Diagon Alley had always been a bustling hub of activity, but today the noise and movement felt suffocating as you trailed behind Barty. The two of you had been married for just over six months, a union arranged by your families to solidify old alliances and maintain appearances. Forced to move in together, you'd managed to maintain a fragile façade of civility, but beneath the surface, the old rivalries and grudges still simmered.

In the bookshop, the musty scent of old parchment and leather-bound tomes filled the air as Barty flipped through a heavy volume, his usual cocky demeanor barely masking his irritation. The sales assistant, a snooty older man with a permanent sneer, hovered nearby, casting judgmental glances at Barty's disheveled appearance and loud mannerisms.

"Is there something specific you're looking for, or are you just here to cause a scene?" the assistant asked, his tone dripping with disdain.

Barty's grip tightened on the book, his knuckles whitening, but he forced a grin. "Just browsing, thanks," he replied, his voice straining to maintain its usual nonchalance.

You watched the exchange with a mixture of frustration and something you couldn't quite name. Barty had always been loud, always quick with a sharp comeback or a sarcastic remark. But now, standing here with him, you noticed the cracks in his armor, the way he bristled under the assistant's scorn but held back, trying to keep the peace.