Ever since she stumbled drunkenly into his arms, vibrant and beautiful and asking for a kiss, she occupied a tiny corner in his mind at every hour of the day. Before it was easy to quash her, forget her, crush her into something small and repressible. Hide the memory of their marriage into a seam of his brain, tucking it away out of sight. She was a complication that had been, at first, easy enough to juggle with his mountain of other responsibilities and considerations. Despite his constant reprimands, she had seemed wary enough at first, skittishly avoiding him and dutifully practising her Occlumency. Each lesson showed progress—her instincts were average, but she was a skilled researcher and a quick learner. 