She was tired of running. Some part of her felt like she had been running from something for her entire life. Even as a child, before she knew she was a witch, she hadn't felt settled, hadn't felt like she was where she was meant to be. That feeling only increased when she was thrown into the wizarding world. After Harry was killed, she didn't want to keep running, didn't want to keep fighting. A weariness took root within her soul those dark weeks in her broom cupboard.