Ginny had never wanted to live by the sea. The wind was too strong, the air never stopped smelling like salt and she couldn't see anything out the windows except water to the south and fields to the north. Of course, she knew, this location would be the dream spot for some people. It was, apparently, for Bill and Fleur who spent all their time at Shell Cottage, not even spending more than a day at the Burrow during Christmas. But Ginny could not stand it. She had thought after Hogwarts she could finally move to London, to a city: where she could peer out any window at any time of day, look upon dozens of people and not know who they were or what they were doing. She wanted to hear the din of traffic in Muggle London even with her windows closed. The only thing Ginny could hear with the windows closed at Pebble House were the waves crashing and the wind hitting the side of the house. She wanted to smell the local takeaway in the evenings as they prepared for the evening rush of drunk people. She wanted so desperately to be surrounded by other wizards and witches that she would not have cared if she lived in a one-bedroom apartment with five other people. She wanted the excitement that came with living in a "dangerous" city, like her mother called it. Living in the countryside, or by the sea, surrounded by absolutely nothing was for old, retired couples or families like the Weasley's, who kept chickens and everyone had a pair of willies. The sea was not a place for a couple of people in their twenties, rearing to go, starting their lives together.

The only respite for Ginny was that she was away very often for Quidditch matches and training. She did not have to spend more time than was necessary at Pebble House and almost always avoided it, if possible. Harry, who never mentioned her prolonged absences, had noticed this, but never failed to welcome her home with his arms wide.

However, her next training session was not for a couple of days and she had nothing to do with herself, but sit at home and stare glumly out the window till Harry came home from work. She had thought about going to see her parents, but they were apparently in Romania, visiting Charlie. She then thought about going to Romania, but knew she wouldn't be able to get back in time for her training. She had sent a letter to Hermione asking to stay with her, but she had said she and Ron were far too busy. Ginny had even contemplated asking George if she could stay with him in London, above the shop, but she knew he had only just moved in with Angelina and she didn't want to be sleeping on their couch while listening to them shag every night. So, Ginny had resigned herself to spending the next three days alone at Pebble, while Harry worked, being bored out of her wits and unable to get on her broom due to a local muggle village.

It was the first night of Ginny's three-day ordeal, she had already lasted a whole day. She had spent the day mending Harry's and her clothes; every little hole and rip she could find. She had then alphabetised their books and dusted every surface of the house. She was dusting the lowest bookshelf opposite the fireplace, when Harry flooed home.

'Hello, beautiful,' said Harry, making Ginny jump.

Recovering from the shock quickly, she ran to Harry faster than he could take his travelling robes off and attacked his face with kisses. All Ginny's pent up energy was now being used on Harry as she fumbled with his clothes, trying to pry them off him. She was just about to remove his shirt when he grabbed her hands held them away from him in a tight, uncompromising grip.

'Not right now, Gin,' grumbled Harry, extracting himself from her limbs wrapped around him. 'I just got back from work and I'm tired.'

Ginny looked mutinous. She could feel a twitch developing beneath her left eye, gradually twitching more and more. She felt like ripping Harry's untidy, black hair from his scalp. She wanted to scream in his face, but she didn't. She didn't do anything, save stand by the fireplace and watch him remove his cloak and fall into the comfiest armchair. She wiped all expression from her face as she calmed down.

'Where have you been lately, Gin?' asked Harry. 'Feels like you're never here anymore.'

He looked up at her after as he removed his shoes, searching her blank face with a confused, slightly hurt, look on his face. He looked worried for a moment, remembering her quick handedness with a wand when performing hexes and wanted to cover his face. He placed a hand on his wand under his sleeve, just in case; a move that went unnoticed by Ginny.

He couldn't understand her hatred of Pebble House. He did not know why she could not stand the countryside, having grown up in it. He was perplexed as to why she wanted to live in a noisey, smelly city.

No, He doesn't understand, thought Ginny angrily. She knew Harry wanted to be away from prying eyes; he wanted to live somewhere no one knew his name, his scar or his story. He wanted to walk through the streets as Harry Potter and not be recognised, stopped and asked for an autograph. Ginny knew all that and more would happen if they lived in London, she knew he hated it and yet she still, somewhere deep down, despised Harry for making her live in the middle of nowhere.

'Gin?' he asked her cautiously, prepared at any moment to block a Bat Bogey curse if one was thrown his way.

She couldn't take it anymore and burst out everything she had been feeling about their house since moving in six months ago.

'I hate it here, Harry!' she screamed, looking very scary indeed. She realised this and took a moment to calm herself, before continuing, 'I can't take being in this house for one more minute. I want to leave. I know you hate being stared at, Harry, but – no, Harry, don't interrupt me. I want to live in London. I want to live near people. Not people like Mrs Rochester next door, with her hundreds of cats,' she added, as Harry had been about to mention the others who lived on their street, who were few and far between.

Ginny stood, panting heavily, in front of Harry, who was sat stiff as a board in the armchair. He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, it stood at all angles even when his hand was removed.

'I know,' he said simply.

Ginny opened her mouth to shout some more, but Harry raised his hand to stop her. This only angered her more; she drew her wand so quickly, Harry did not even have time to utter Expelliarmus before he was pushed roughly from his armchair. Ginny had not aimed to hurt Harry, but she felt so angry that she had needed to do something, release some of her energy. And this way she was not scarring his beautiful face with some awful hex, but merely pushing him further away from herself.

Harry got up from the floor and stood before her, a pained expression on his face.

'I can't, Gin,' he sighed. 'You know that.'

'You've never even tried, Harry,' she said, her voice noticeable flat. Harry looked up at her, frowning; he had always hated how much she hid her emotions. Ginny never cried like other girls – which was mostly a good thing – and she only ever showed emotion when she was angry or in bed with him. Even then, Ginny wasn't one for pillow talk or snuggling afterwards, something Harry always wanted from his girlfriend.

Maybe this was it, they both thought as they stared at each other in silence. Ginny couldn't stand being at Pebble anymore and Harry hated the lack of any emotion other than anger he got from her; and she was often angry these days. They had survived for nearly five years and in the last six months had fallen apart so much, it felt less like being in a relationship and more like flatmates who never saw each other.

'Harry,' said Ginny softly. 'I moved here for you. I'm doing all of this for you... I just need something in return.'

'What? I'll do anything,' said Harry hastily, looking up with hope that it wasn't over just yet. But his face fell when he saw hers; she wasn't smiling, she looked decided grim, as if mourning at a funeral.

'I need you to let me leave.'

Ginny hadn't know she would say this until it had left her mouth. She was shocked at how harsh her words had sounded, even to her own ears and felt agony rip at her heart, knowing it had sounded ten times worse to Harry. She had said it so quietly Harry barely heard, but he did. He couldn't move, his heart had skipped a beat and his breath was hitched in his throat. Harry felt his life crashing down around him like waves against the cliff just outside their house. He couldn't look away from her face, but he felt as if he would vomit if looked any longer.

'W-what?' he choked out finally.

Ginny didn't say anything. He had heard her, she knew this, so she stood waiting for the boy-who-lived to string a coherent sentence together.

'I love you though, Ginny,' said Harry, his voice breaking as he said her name. It was like a slap to the face, Ginny stood gobsmacked in front of Harry, now the speechless one. Neither of them had ever said they had "loved" the other before. Ginny had always forbade Harry to say it, feeling unnecessary pressure was put on couples to express themselves in such a way. Of course, she had loved Harry – I still do, she thought angrily, albeit slightly unsure – but she had never felt the need to tell him. She had always shown him she loved him, she had thought this was enough. But the sound of that word had made her stomach constrict, made her feel uneasy in front of Harry. She felt positively naked and could stand the pitiful look on his face no longer.

'I need to leave,' she said suddenly, striding out of their house. With no clear direction of where she was going, she apparated, thinking of a spot that had made her happy. She landed with a thud on a muddy lane leading up to a off-balance, completely mismatching house. She felt so glad to be home, she rushed through the kitchen door to see her mother and father finishing their dinner.

'Ginny!' Her mother rushed at her as her father looked pleasantly perplexed at her sudden, unannounced appearance. Ginny was engulfed in a warm, soft hug that made her feel like the weight she hadn't know she was carrying was lifted off her shoulders in only the way a mother's hug could.

Her mother pulled away much too soon for Ginny's liking and held her at arm's length, examining every inch of her face with a huge smile.

'Where's Harry?'

Just the beginning of something, tell me if you like it.