He owned a house at Spinner’s End in Cokeworth, a place she’d never seen nor known existed until this very moment. A sour taste filled her mouth and for a moment she wondered if she ever really knew him. Their marriage had lasted less than a year. They had talked so little about themselves. But they had spent so much time in each other’s minds, so many desperate Occlumency lessons, and she had never once come upon any memories of him owning a house. 