Fine, Not Fine

by Aerivia

At one point Hermione Granger was happy. Unfortunately all that's good seems to come to an end and it seemed like her happiness had run out. Oneshot.

Fine, Not Fine.

At one point Hermione Granger was happy. Unfortunately all that's good seems to come to an end and it seemed like her happiness had run out. Oneshot. Hermione and Ron Divorce. Draco and Hermione friendship up for interpretation. Not Romione or Dramione.

Hermione's throat was raw but that had become a normal occurrence for her over the last few weeks. So were the tear stained cheeks, the abrupt changes in mood, and her sudden affinity for caffeinated beverages. Sleep had become a thing of the past, something she would wish for so dearly only to have it be plagued by nightmares. Or maybe they were memories. After all, the horrors that were displayed in her mind every time she closed her eyes could very well be things that had really happened, things she just refused to remember in a conscious state.

The worst part of it all was the hysterics the nightmares threw her into. Every night Ron would come into her room, finding her thrashing and sobbing, occasionally screaming out against the atrocities that nobody else could see. He would sit with her, hold her close to him in his warm embrace that smelled of home and security. It wasn't his signature Weasley hair that she saw first when she finally calmed down. It was his eyes. He conveyed so much with them, telling her that it was going to be fine. That they were okay and that everything would feel better given time.

That was the biggest lie Hermione Granger had ever heard.

Nothing would make the war okay. Nothing would change everything that had happened. It was reality. The war happened and it changed everything. Sure they won but at what cost? How many people had suffered and felt pain, whether physical or emotional? Hell, she couldn't even escape from it in her subconscious. It haunted her and there was no way that anyone was truly 'fine' after the ordeal.

This particular night was no better than any other. Hermione had lived through the real thing, had been one of the most important reasons behind the downfall of Voldemort. None of that mattered though. She went through it again, seeing the lifeless faces of people she had known, cherished even. Again and again they made an appearance, not allowing her to forget, not allowing her to just move on. They stuck her in the past and she had no choice but to sit with them for however long they demanded her attention.

Ron came barging into her room after the first scream, having grown used to the events. He just gathered her up into his arms and placed a kiss on top of her head, a routine he had grown familiar with. It should have felt natural, right even. All Hermione could feel was fear.

"Hermione," Ron murmured in her ear. "Shh, I'm right here. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Of course nothing was going to hurt her. She was safely in her bed at the Burrow. She could feel the worn cotton sheets that were tangled with her legs and hear the quiet clicking of the clock she kept beside her bed. It wasn't herself that she cried out for though. Of course not, she cried out for all of those who couldn't. For all of the too lates and only a moment sooners.

She never said any of this though. She just clung to Ron and listened to him saying sweet nothings, breathing in deep breaths of his scent as if she was attempting to remember it forever. Maybe she was. Maybe this would be her happy place and the memory of his smell would bring her back to this moment, even if it was only bittersweet.

Every night ended the same with him leaving after he thought she had fallen asleep. Instead she waited to be alone and climbed out of her bed to grab the box she hid underneath. She had brewed up a few potions in her free time, ones that would help her sleep. She never felt like she had a good night sleep when she woke up in the morning but it did give her some much needed sleep none the less. Removing the vial of Sleeping Draught from her box she tipped it back and appreciated the cold liquid on her raw throat.

Drowsiness was already affecting her as she laid back down in her bed. She still talked to herself though, before falling asleep.

"Good night."

.

Hermione felt content for the first time in a while. Everything just felt… comfortable. It was a safe place and she had no fear of being attacked. Everything was how it should be and nothing could have pleased her more. The warm summer air, the perfect blue sky. The way that the sun shone on Ron's hair, turning it into a shiny mess of bright orange. It was a picture perfect and peaceful moment out here.

It still wasn't the happy moment she longed for so much. Sure she enjoyed laying out in the sun with her fingers entwined with Ron's but she still couldn't bring herself to feel good about the moment. So she settled for contentment, enjoying the little steps she was taking towards her goal of feeling better.

"Hermione?"

She turned to smile at Ron. It had been a month and three days since the fall of Voldemort. The nightmares still came but she rarely screamed anymore. Instead she's wake up with damp cheeks and swollen eyes but at least she had been able to stop relying on the Sleeping Draught.

She squeezed Ron's hand lightly as a sign for him to continue.

"Marry me."

"What?"

Ron grinned at her. "I want you to marry me. I want you to be my wife and for me to be your husband and for us to live together."

"But we've only been together for just over a month." she laughed. "Don't you think that that's a little fast to be rushing into marriage?"

She watched as he pretended to think about it. "After everything that's happened? No. I don't think it's too fast. I think I want to be with you forever and that's all that matters."

Hermione's brain worked in overdrive. His proposal wasn't something she had been expecting so soon. Maybe a few years down the road when they could be more sure of themselves. When they hadn't practically just walked out of a war. She could however see why he might feel like this was the right moment. If war had taught them one thing it was that life was fleeting, it could disappear in a breath and she wanted to live in the moment.

Normally she would have spent time calculating her answer but today she couldn't. She used her emotions. She answered with love, with haste, with the need to be close to someone, even a touch of fear could be found coursing through her veins. She could even feel the hint of happiness that welled inside of her as she thought about how much she had once thought about this day.

"Yes." she murmured.

Again, only another month later, she felt that surge of happiness return. Ron looked dashing in his suit and his smile was wide enough to make it seem like his face was going to split in half. Hermione imagined that it was only rivaled by her own as she stood beside him. She felt like they were the only two in the world, and they may as well have been. The only other person allowed inside of their bubble at that moment was the priest and that's because they were hanging on his every word.

A young girl with bushy hair had once dreamed of seeing this day. Of being so deeply in love that she would commit herself to them through a binding contract until death do they part. Now here she was, with a man she had once considered a best friend, now known as her lover. His eyes still spoke to her, whispering the magical statement.

"It's okay. We'll be fine."

Still she didn't put her trust into it fully but she did believe it more. She couldn't understand what more could go wrong. What could ruin what she has now, when she was finally beginning to feel 'whole' again? Fate had appeared to allow her more moments, more time to enjoy and cherish everything she had.

After rings had been exchanged and the two shared a soft brush of their lips she was whirled back to the world of reality.

It terrified her.

Just like Bill and Fleur's wedding the previous year, the Weasley family had generously hosted the wedding. Unfortunately though, the sight of all the people who had gathered for the event reminded Hermione of how the previous wedding had ended; in a flurry of attacks provided by none other than Voldemort's loyal followers.

She wished that she could ignore that fact but she couldn't. As she looked out at all of the smiling faces, all of them feeling happy for her, the new Mrs Weasley, she could only think about who could be trusted. Fear and resentment had started to settle itself in her stomach. Hermione let her eyes dart around the room, looking for anything that may have calmed her down. She looked over their heads, hooping to forget them, studied their faces closely, hoping to recognize them.

That wasn't happening. Nothing she was doing was convincing her that these people were safe, that she could relax and enjoy the night. Her breaths were coming quicker now and she could feel tears starting to prickle her eyes. Ron noticed the change in her attitude and reached out his hand which she took gratefully. He used it to pull her in close, to give her one of the hugs she craved so much just so she could feel like everything was real.

"It's alright. Everything will be fine." Ron whispered in her ear.

.

After a week spent out at the beach house of many uses, Hermione returned to the Burrow with her husband. It had seemed to rush by, they were always occupied with one activity or another and Hermione had felt content almost the entire trip.

They were greeted by a flurry of surprised voices, many thinking that they would be gone longer. Everyone was bustling with excitement, though Hermione couldn't figure out why. Ron beside her looked just as clueless.

"Oh, Hermione dear, we have a special gift for you and Ron. And some good news as well, depending on your thoughts for the future." Mrs Weasley said when she could finally get over to the younger witch.

"Thoughts for the future?"

In all honesty, Hermione had never thought about her future after the war. For a long time it was "survive" and "win" that controlled her future. If she was dead, then she would have no future at all. If Voldemort won, then what kind of future would she be having to live in? Definitely not one of comfort, she knew that much.

"Yes, but that's for later. For now, RONALD! Get over here."

Ron ran over to his mum but didn't get to sit still. Instead, the people in the Burrow that day were pushing them through the house, back to Ron's old room.

"Well go in." Ginny prompted in as the couple stood awkwardly looking at the door.

Ron did the honors of opening up the door and tugged Hermione into the room with him. It had been refurbished to include a double bed and a set of matching dressers. It had been decorated in neutral colours that Hermione adored. She sat down on the bed and immediately wanted to go to sleep. It was soft, a comforting and warm place that she felt that she could sleep in forever.

"We finished it just before you guys got here. I thought you would like a place to stay together while you're house hunting yourself and it seemed like a good idea, especially after Hermione's other present showed up here just a few days ago. Ron got one too, as did Harry, but I doubt that either of them will appreciate it as much as you. Well, it just might change any immediate plans the two of you have."

Hermione stood there puzzled as Mrs Weasley rambled on about the future.

"What other present do I have?"

"Well, not a present per se, it's more of an opportunity that I think you're going to enjoy very much. I'll just go grab it from the kitchen, you two stay up here and pass along any changes you wish to make to Ginny or Harry."

"Like that'll happen mum, it's amazing in here." said Ron as she hurried out of the room.

Harry chuckled in the corner. "It's good to have you both back, and to see you smiling Hermione. I almost forgot what it looked like."

Everyone laughed at the remark, joking about how lonely things had been around the house without Ron making a lot of ruckus. Hermione mostly tried racking her brain for what to expect and even tried asking Harry for a hint but his lips were sealed. Even waiting the couple of minutes it took to retrieve the item in question was agonizing. She felt like she was going to burst from curiosity when Molly returned, her hands behind her back.

"Surprise!" she chimed as she shoved an envelope in Hermione and Ron's hands.

It wasn't hard to recognize the Hogwarts symbol and immediately her heart began to race. Her fingers trembled slightly from her excitement as she tore open the cover revealing two pieces of neatly folded parchment.

It reminded her of the very first Hogwarts letter she had received at the young age of eleven.

Dear Hermione Jean Weasley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been invited to return to Hogwarts for an additional year in order to complete your schooling if you so wish. In light of recent events we found that the education was lacking during the last year and we wish to commend this by offering otherwise graduated students, or in your case- special exceptions, a chance to "re-do" your seventh year. Depending on numbers you may be put into strict returnees classes or placed among younger peers.

There is an enclosed list of supplies required for the school year as well as an updated outline of how visits to Hogsmeade will work. We look forward to seeing you present on September First if you choose to rejoin us and wish you all the well if you pursue another path.

Professor McGonagall

Hogwarts Headmaster

Hermione felt tears welling up behind her eyes but for the first time in what felt like forever, they were from relief. No sense of pain, of anxiety, of fear. Just, relief. Anything good that could possibly happen was starting to. No more misery or gloominess, the world had decided that she had dealt with enough of it and offered her happiness instead. She couldn't feel more thankful.

"Harry!" she turned on him, "Why wouldn't you tell me about this? Or you, Ginny, you're going back for your seventh year, aren't you?"

The two just laughed.

"Actually," Harry started, "I don't plan on returning to school. I had a different opportunity arise and Ron actually has the same option as well, I just wanted him to hear this news as well."

"Bloody hell, return for non mandatory schooling? Did McGonagall actually believe I would do such a thing?" Ron complained. "What's this 'additional' option anyway?"

"The Minister of Magic has personally put in a good word for us to be put into Auror training effective immediately if we so desire."

Hermione's eyes widened. She had been counting on doing her last year of school with everyone. Now Harry wouldn't be returning and neither would Ron by the looks of it. She couldn't let them pass up such a great deal. Not only was it Harry's dream job but more than once she had heard Ron talking about it with him.

"I don't know. It seems like a difficult choice. Work or school." Ron mumbled.

"It's not difficult." Ginny chimed in. "Just pick the one you think you'll have more fun in."

"I hear that they have a free snack bar at the training grounds available if you completed the day's task."

In the end, Ron had chosen to join Harry in their training to become Aurors. Just the girls would be attending school that year but Hermione didn't mind. Being absent from her husband wouldn't be so bad. Besides, the new rules regarding Hogsmeade would allow her to visit him any weekend that he could make it down.

When they retired to bed that night she couldn't help but feel happy with the way things had turned out. She only wished that it could stay like this forever.

.

Hermione laid there, looking at the stars. She didn't know how long she had been there exactly, just that it was freezing for an early November night. The Astronomy Tower had seemed like the perfect place to just go and calm down after a particularly nasty nightmare. She was glad that she had remembered to put up soundproofing wards around her bed after her first night. She didn't want to disrupt her roommates sleep as well.

So instead she moved up here. It made everything seem so… insignificant. She could see more stars than she knew people. The ground looked so far away and she knew that if one were to slip over the edge that they would plummet to their death. It brought reality crashing back down on her and reality was the worst. It shattered her illusion of things being "fine" and made them seem realistically horrible instead.

No longer did this seem like a place of peace. Instead it was a place of misery, one that had brought about the rise of Voldemort and the fall of Dumbledore. A place where the beginning of the end had taken place.

"I didn't think anyone else would be up here."

Hermione didn't even bother to look at the visitor. She recognized the drawling voice as none other than Draco Malfoy. At first she had been angry that he had been allowed to return but that soon settled into sympathy as she came to accept that he had been affected by the war as well, a willing participant or not. The two may not have been the greatest of friends, rarely speaking a word to each other, but they accepted each other now. No more was there animosity between them led by old prejudices.

"What can I say? It helps me think."

Draco chuckled. "I only wish it helped me think. Instead it reminds me of every single wrong move I have made in my entire life."

She heard him sit down at the edge and pictured him resting his head on the railing, his feet dangling over the side.

"It's not all bad up here."

"That's easy for you to say. You aren't solely responsible for a man's death. Hell, as matter of fact, it took place only a few steps from where you're currently resting."

His voice was bitter and Hermione got the impression that he wanted to drop the subject. It was a surprise that he had even mentioned the topic to her. She knew exactly what he was referring to. After all, she had once held resentment for him but now it was all gone. It washed away over the last couple of months when she saw him shunned and ignored. He kept to himself, never bothering to right his name. Instead he remained passive.

After silence had fallen over them once more Hermione sat up, looking at him. He looked almost pained as if he had given up on the idea of happiness, much the same as she had at one point in her life. She couldn't let him sit there like that and accept it as if it was normal, as if his current state of mind is what fate had in store for him.

So she moved to sit beside him. At first he took no notice, deciding to keep his eyes facing out across the grounds as he remained lost in his thoughts. Occasionally he took a sip from a silver flask and Hermione could tell by the smell that it was something strong. She wondered briefly how he had managed to get it into the school in the first place.

"Do you want a sip?" he asked after a while, holding the flask out to her.

She didn't hesitate, just took the drink. It nipped at her throat going down but offered warmth from the inside. Firewhiskey.

"Do you want to know what I think?" she prompted.

"About what?"

"About that night. I don't think you would have done it if you had the chance to go back and do it all again. You aren't really to blame either. You were as much of a pawn in all of this as the rest of us were."

He snatched his drink back and took a few large gulps. "If only things worked out that way, huh? I'm the one who let them in. I'm responsible for all of that havoc and it's not okay. It never will be."

With that he stood up and started to leave.

"Draco?"

He paused at the exit but didn't turn around to look at her.

"It'll all be fine. You just need to give it some time."

"Yeah. Whatever."

And with that he was gone, leaving her once more to contemplate everything that had happened and all the different points of view from that one fateful night. One thing was for sure though, she really didn't blame Draco for any of it.

.

Before anyone knew it the year had come to an end and Hermione found herself being shipped off for home for the last time. It felt off to be leaving some of her happiest memories in the past but it didn't bug her too much. She may have enjoyed going back to school and finishing her education but in the long run it wasn't the best experience. She saw everything all over again. The year was filled with taking the long way so she could avoid certain spots in the corridors or refusing to look down in case she saw a blood stain that she knew wasn't really there.

The school year itself had been wonderful but the building had felt like a slaughterhouse.

It's why it was almost a relief to be going back home. She could feel herself slipping back into the realm of discontent and after everything she had been through in an attempt to make herself feel happier, it was the last thing that she wanted. The one thing that kept her going was the fact that she had a lasting impact on Draco. He stopped being so reclusive and the two had even managed to create a meager friendship based solely on support.

It still didn't fill the void that was caused by the lack of her two best friends.

"Hermione!" yelled Ron enthusiastically as she came through the door. "I'm so sorry, we were going to come and pick you and Ginny up but then we got caught up in a case and just… we're both sorry."

Hermione laughed as did Ginny.

"It's not a problem. We just took a cab."

The four of them sat down and caught up on everything they had missed between meetings in Hogsmeade and their last real get together. Eventually Harry and Ginny had to go for some dinner reservations and left the house alone for the married couple.

They took full advantage of their privacy.

It was a month before Hermione thought that something was off. She had been looking at house listings with Ginny, trying to find a new place for her and Ron now that they could start their lives together. Ginny had been complaining about some menstruation cramps and Hermione had just nodded along, only half listening. She was doing math.

Hermione Granger was late for the first time in years.

Ron of course was ecstatic when her had heard the news, even though it wasn't professionally confirmed he couldn't stop grinning. He even called up the healer himself. His wife found his attitude contagious and enjoyed the attention. She found herself loving every moment of the pregnancy. The fact that a life was growing in her, that she would get a chance to nurture it and see it grow up to be a strong and brilliant person was a miracle. Not only would it increase their small personal family of two, but it was healing her.

As silly as it sounded, the baby was doing so much for her without even taking it's first breath. Just the fact that it was there brightened her mood. Constant smiles and cooing at her stomach despite the lack of signs. She had just been happy. It made almost all other moments in the past year seem dull. She had thought she had been happy but it was more just staying afloat. Nothing was wrong but not exactly right.

By week six they were already playing around with baby names.

"I like Maggie."

Ron's lips set into a smile. "And what if she's really a he?"

"Ron?" she giggled.

"That would just be too creepy. How about… Harry?"

They may not have had a real idea of what to call the baby but they liked to joke about it. Sure one day they would have to be serious about it, it wasn't like a pet that you could call something ridiculous like "Nemo" after a popular character. It required thought and that would be a long process.

It didn't seem like the weeks could go fast enough.

During week nine, Hermione noticed something different. She was spotting. As far as she knew it wasn't a normal occurrence for pregnant women to be seeing this amount of blood while still in the early stages, or in any stage for that matter. She yelled for Ron immediately.

As per Hermione's request, they visited a muggle doctor, one that specialised in this sort of thing. Her heart was fluttering the whole trip and started to thump painfully in her chest as they met the doctor. She explained her symptoms and was asked to lay down. Her eyes remained screwed shut as the man went about his work, applying a warm liquid to her abdomen. She felt something moving across her skin and held back a shiver.

Ron gripped her hand tightly.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley?" the doctor asked, his voice quiet. "How long have the two of you been expecting?"

"Nine weeks." Ron answered.

The doctor turned off the machine and helped Hermione sit up. Fear settled itself deep down inside her gut.

"Is som-something wr-wrong?" she choked out.

The man's face remained expressionless, as if he had grown accustomed to handing out bad news.

"Mrs Weasley… did you notice the silence in the room?"

"I'm sorry," Ron cut in, "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"This room is wired to pick up the baby's or babies' heartbeats through the machine and amplify them throughout the room for the parents to hear."

Hermione's heart nearly stopped beating itself. She felt Ron's fingers clench hers painfully as he came to the same realisation but she didn't mind. The pain kept her grounded. It helped her see that this was reality.

"Your baby's heart wasn't beating."

It helped her see that the world was indeed the cruel entity that she had believed it to be, sucking up every part of her happiness before chewing it up and spitting it out at her feet as if to mock her. It helped her see that she was destined to live a sad and pathetic life no matter what and most of all it helped her see that life really wasn't fine.

.

Hermione spent a week in bed. Often times Ron would be there with her, prodding her to eat. A few bites in and she would stop. With a frustrated sigh he would leave only to return moments later. The first day had been spent with many tears from the both of them. They tried to comfort each other but it seemed that no amount of love people showed to Hermione helped. She didn't imagine that she was doing a great job helping Ron either in her sorry state. She tried though, and she knew he appreciated it.

Still, neither of them showed any signs of improvement by the end of the week. Ron had to return to work though and Hermione found herself occupying their bed all alone. Her thoughts drifted, often landing on the very obscure definition of misery her brain had once held and comparing it to her new found understanding of it. Being miserable was like being incapacitated by a greater force, one that only allows you to feel pain over uncontrollable events. Yet misery had you blame everything in sight. It also cleared or fogged your mind, depending on how you looked at it.

It's how Hermione found herself writing a letter, knowing it would only do harm for now but maybe in the future it could offer some condolences. Despite knowing that her actions were rash, she knew this was something that she had to do.

Dear Ronald,

I really do wish I could explain this to you in person, make you understand all of my reasons, but I don't think I can. I don't want to hurt you, please understand that. It's actually why I'm doing this. Maybe it will help us both, I really don't know.

I'm leaving. Maybe temporarily, maybe permanently, it's yet to be seen. I can see that my behaviour in light of recent events has been frustrating you, possibly even hindering your own healing process. Some time apart could be good for the both of us.

I know it'll hurt for now, but do you remember what you would tell me after my nightmares? It'll be okay. You'll be fine. You just need some time to rest, to pull yourself together. What you don't need is someone bringing you down, killing that mojo you always have. I really am sorry but I don't expect forgiveness. I expect you and I to both heal. Maybe we can be together again then.

Until then, farewell.

Hermione.

One day she would see the letter again during a confrontation with Ron and she wouldn't be able to stop herself from noticing the tear stains. For now, all she needed was time apart, time to let him heal with people who would support him and she knew she couldn't do that for him. Not now, not when misery was following her around and wrecking every good thing she had ever had.

.

Another month and the divorce papers were delivered to her new flat.

She signed them wordlessly, choking back tears that had begun to well up. She refused to let them spill as she sent the owl back on his way.

.

Hermione hugged the bottle of firewhiskey closer to her chest as she felt herself slip against the wall. She let it lower her to the ground. The war memorial stood tall and proud in front of her, illuminated by the spotlights trained on it. She had skipped the ceremony presenting it earlier that day, choosing to hide away at home rather than face the people she had abandoned. She knew that her actions were partly out of selfishness. She wanted to suffer alone, a nice a quiet torment to occupy her days.

The people she had chose to be around her had always been by her side. They would always try to make the situation better as they always had. It's how they all worked. She didn't want it to be fixed, she wanted it to heal. The difference for her meant that the people she loved couldn't be with her.

"You must be a stalker."

She didn't raise her eyes to look at him.

"Hey now, it's just a joke. No need to sulk."

Draco sat down beside her, not oblivious to her sullen mood but instead choosing to ignore it. In all the time he had known her, she was never someone who would view the future, somewhere happy. It seemed to have slipped away from her.

"So what brought you here?"

Hermione took a sip of the amber liquid in her arms. "I needed to see this. I think the monument is horrific."

"And why is that?"

"It doesn't represent the dead. Do you see any hints to that? No. It was built to remind us of this war, to push into our brains every bad thing that happened during the year. Nothing to honour the dead, or to celebrate their lives. It's to discourage a repeat. It's sick."

Draco pried the drink from Hermione and took a few sips himself before replying. "I guess that it is really a thing of horror."

The two sat in silence, filled only by their quiet breathing. It was uncomfortable but not particularly unwanted. The idea that someone was there but not trying to do anything left a positive impression on Hermione.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione looked at Draco quizzically. She had no idea what had prompted him to try to start a conversation. In fact, she thought she was doing better than she normally did. She still felt discontent with her situation but not anything that would be cause to concern for an outsider.

"What's wrong?" he asked again.

"Nothing."

He grabbed the bottle and held it up to the monument, seeing some of the reflected light shine through the bottle. "This says otherwise. I thought you didn't drink but there seems to be a lot of this missing."

"Nothing's wrong. I just can't let go. Everything is in the past."

"So it's just haunting you."

She nodded. That's how she viewed her problems. As strings that wouldn't let go, no matter how much they were cut, how hard they were pulled. It was something that she needed to get over but at the same time she felt the need to keep it there with her. Right in recent memory. It served as a reminder of everything she had lived through and that anything else should be a piece of cake in comparison.

"I want… happiness."

"You don't need happiness. You need time."

Stealing the bottle back she took another swig. "Time, huh?"

"Sure not everything is fine right now. But it's not supposed to be. I may not know what you've been through but I do know one thing, you aren't okay. One day you will be but for now, let yourself heal, even if it's a slow process."

"You know, I may not be happy but talking with you makes me feel fine, for the first time in a long time."

"And that's all you need."

The two stayed up all night, just enjoying the company of each other as they finished off the drink as well as one Draco had brought. He was right about one thing, it would be a long time until she could feel happy again. It wouldn't hinder her healing process though. She would work through this, even encourage him to get through his own problems at the same time. She just knew, one day, even if it's in the far future, she would be fine.

.

Dedicated to my best friend for her 16th Birthday.