"The practice of forgiveness is our most important contribution to the healing of the world." Marianne Williamson
"Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves." Carl Jung

"When you think about it I spent a disproportionate amount of my time at school thinking about the dorm mate I wasn't ever really friends with.

I had felt a bit sorry for her in the first year, I mean having no friends isn't much fun. Not sorry enough obviously - I had Parvati and didn't need a bossy know-it-all for a friend, especially one who couldn't accept haircare advice. I even continued to feel sorry for her once she had friends, after all what use were boys as friends anyway? Not that she was the type to talk about clothes, make up and gossip anyway, as Parvati and I knew well.

Pity dominated my thoughts about her for the first three years really. Second year she spent so much time in the hospital wing she was barely in our dormitory. Then third year she was never around, and when she was she looked so frazzled and tired, not to mention she was always falling out with her best friends, so it was easy to feel sorry for her.

It wasn't until fourth year that the envy set in. Who knew she scrubbed up so well? Never mind that she could pull the famous Quidditch star (although I thought my date was cuter). And then in fifth year she was all action - at the forefront of the DA, flying off with Harry Potter on their ill fated rescue mission.

I think it was the Battle at the Ministry that year that brought the third member of the so-called Golden Trio to my attention. Harry Potter got attention automatically, even from the muggle-borns and she shared our dormitory. But no longer just the goofy sidekick, Ron Weasley had been brave, and therefore I figured he merited further inspection. It was then I was struck by the fact that he was tall, with gorgeous thick red hair and the most dreamy blue eyes. I spent more of that summer wondering how I had missed the studliness of Ronald Weasley than I did contemplating You-know-who's return – shallow I know.

I want to clear something up at this point, I did think that there was something between them, her and Ron I mean. But I thought most of it was on his side not hers. After all she had the attention of a international Quidditch star, in letters if not in person, and even in the grips of my newfound crush I couldn't see how Ron Weasley could compete with Victor Krum. And if I'm honest I thought the same applied to me and her, how could she compete with me?

Sixth year was a bit of a rollercoaster really, emotionally for me - and the wizarding world I suppose, but that didn't really hit me till later – we've already said shallow right? I set out to snag Ron, and I succeeded spectacularly at first. I might have gloated a bit, well a lot, in the dormitory – but I was so caught up in it I didn't really register that she might be hurting. Even if I had, I'm not sure I would have put two and two together and concluded that that meant she had feelings for him.

Shallow and stupid right?

To prove that point, the fact that after that first night Ron never wanted to go somewhere private to snog never struck me as weird. It should have, what sixteen year old boy doesn't want to go further? The one in love with his best friend apparently - but that realisation came much later. So I remained deliriously happy and smug (and oblivious?) until January, I had the boy I wanted, even if we hadn't gone as far as I wanted - I thought it was just a matter of time.

January was when things started to change. Ron was a little more distant, a little less enthusiastic about me, and I noticed he was trying to talk to her again. He'd stopped you see, when we started going out, but that had been one of things I hadn't thought about really. The other things I hadn't considered included how Parvati felt about me spending so much time with Ron.

So where are we up to - shallow, stupid and selfish?

Then came his birthday – I had big plans for his present, I was going to give him myself, well, you know what I mean don't you? But it all went wrong – he accidentally consumed some love potion, so the only time I saw him that day he was searching for Romilda Vane of all people, then he ended up drinking poisoned mead – I'm not really sure of the details of how and why – and ended up fighting for his life in the hospital wing. Apparently Harry, yes the Harry Potter, saved his life, but I'm sketchy on the details. What I do know is that nobody told me until the next day, I was his girlfriend for crying out loud! She knew, I didn't know how, but that's when everything changed.

Am I boring you? Good, so like I said, everything was different after that. She was talking to Ron again, and they spent a lot of time together, with Harry, at least at first. I slowly came to the realisation that Ron was avoiding me, first by always being asleep when I visited him in the Hospital wing, then by always being busy with homework (which was pretty intense to be fair), prefect rounds (but he had skipped those a lot before Christmas), Quidditch (boys!) and them – her and Harry I mean.

No, I hadn't had the opportunity to offer him his birthday present, and with hindsight it was probably just as well. Why? Well one night, it must have been at least a month after his birthday, I saw him come down the dormitory stairs with her. Just the two of them, so of course I reacted, informed him that I don't tolerate cheating and demanded he explain himself – I might have been shouting at that point, I don't really remember. He spluttered a bit, so I asked him straight out if he loved me.

The silence that followed was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. He just stood there looking apologetic, so I told him (screamed at him really I suppose) that it was over and stomped off to my dormitory. Parvati really came through for me then despite the way I'd neglected her, I cried and we ate chocolate and bitched about both of them. She slept in the fifth year dormitory with Ginny Weasley that night and I took that as an admission of guilt. Ron Weasley's name wasn't mentioned in our dormitory again for the rest of the year.

Looking back on it now, I don't think Ron cheated on me that night. He didn't even seem to enter into a relationship with her in what was left of the year – they just remained close friends. I reserved the right to shoot dirty looks at them when I felt like it though. Then Dumbledore died, I was collected by my parents before the funeral and I didn't see either of them again for nearly a year.

As you know everything went to hell that summer, and Hogwarts became a nightmarish place. Neville Longbottom of all people became the leader of the D.A., and got himself a girlfriend in Hannah Abbott – not sure which surprised me more really. Anyway she, no not Hannah Abbott, she had disappeared. All sorts of rumours flew around, she'd emigrated, she'd run away with Ron and Harry, she was at school taking polyjuice potion as a disguise, but no-one knew the true story. Until the day of the battle, when the three of them, the Golden Trio I mean, just walked into the Room of Requirement – where the D.A. was hiding out, you know?

So there they were, about to save the world, or something. She stood next to Ron whilst Harry planned, and there was something there. They weren't even touching but you could tell that they had something. Love I suppose you'd call it, the real deal. That's when I realised they'd always had that, that that was the reason Parvati had just sighed when I went on about my crush on Ron, and why no one who knew the trio well had ever speculated about her and Harry. Next thing I know they'd disappeared off and were saving the world. And me as it turned out – she was the one who blasted the werewolf off me, then later Ron (with Neville's help) finished him off.

Is that irony, symmetry or coincidence I wonder?

Sorry, I suppose you're wondering why the monologue on Hermione Granger? Well she visited me today - I was actually expecting Parvati and the new Witch Weekly - but apparently beggars can't be choosers when it comes to hospital visitors. She brought Ron's oldest brother Bill, the one who's married to the Beauxbaxons triwizard champion, Fleur something......well Fleur Weasley now I suppose.

Anyway, Bill was mauled by Fenrir Greyback too, a year ago pretty much. He's not a werewolf because it wasn't the full moon, but he is as badly scarred as I am and we had a long talk about things. What things? Oh - rare steak, mood swings, societal prejudice - those kind of things. He didn't really have the answers (except he did give me a few damn good steak recipes), but it helped to talk to someone who knows exactly how I feel about things now. Well, not exactly, I mean he's married so he doesn't have to worry about attracting the opposite sex any more, but he did say that the right person wouldn't care about all that stuff and would love me for me.

Any Irishman appearing in my mind at that point was purely coincidence I assure you.

All that talk of the right person leads me back to her. Well, them really – she looked different than she did at school or even during the battle. And not just her hair (apparently it got singed badly so she had to cut it to shoulder length), her clothes (muggle) or even the small but actually really pretty ring she was wearing (yes, ring finger left hand) but something else. There's that word again – something – it was in the way she looked, not happy exactly but content. Is there a difference? I'm not sure, I can't explain it any other way, but I think I know the cause – Ronald Weasley.

She caught me looking at the ring and blushed enough to rival her fiancé, which made Bill laugh and give her a teasing look which made me think that the blushing is a regular occurrence. She stammered a bit about it, looking at me carefully, obviously worried I was going to be upset, that I would still regard her as the 'boyfriend stealer' I had accused her of being in front of the whole common room all those months ago. I reassured her that any envious feelings I had were about having someone to feel that way about, not about the specific personage of Ronald Bilius Weasley. I hope she believed me, what with it being the truth and all. I didn't mention the Irishman-we-are-not-naming, because frankly I get enough pity for the scarred werewolf thing, never mind for my so-called love life.

The point of all this? Well, I just wanted to share with you that today I saw evidence that true love exists, that soul mates exist, that out of the ashes of war there can be beauty and happiness. And you know what, in spite of the pity and envy in our personal history - I, Lavender Brown am happy that she, Hermione Granger, has found true love. Now if that isn't personal growth and all that psycho babble I don't know what is.

Oh, is that the time?

See you same time next week?"

Lavender Brown closed the door softly behind her, and stepped out into the busy St Mungo's corridor. For the first time in all the weeks she had been attending these appointments she did not avoid her reflection in the brass plaque on the door:

Dr. A. P. D Scissett
Psychological Healer

Instead she checked her lipstick (immaculate as always) and walked briskly down the corridor, finally allowing her thoughts to linger on sandy hair, blue eyes and an irish brogue.

A/N The idea that Hermione would have to cut her hair is from "After the Battle" by charma10, because it as an idea I think it's spot on both practically and psychologically, and the story that contains it is one of the very best.