Author's Note: This is my first try at BtVS fanfiction after watching the show rather excessively lately, so if any of the characters are horribly off, I apologize in advance. Please also keep in mind while reading that this story is set about a year after the finale of Season 6, but ignores Seasons 7 and 8. Feedback is appreciated.

Disclaimer: All the characters of the Buffyverse are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc., you know the drill - basically, not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.

Hearts on Fire

It had been almost a year since Tara had died, but still Willow felt as if she'd never get over it, as if she'd never find herself happy again. To her friends, she functioned normally, performing spells when needed – always moderate ones, well aware of the fact that she might slip back into the darkness Xander had pulled her out of eleven months ago all too quickly – and generally helping Buffy and the others with slaying the various evils which tormented Sunnydale; she went to her classes in college regularly and had moved back in with Buffy, doing well at her exams and tests, but it all was done automatically, with no real joy for her behind it.

Her friends of course were aware of this, but none of them had an idea how to help her; in the beginning, they had tried to cheer her up, to distract her from her grief, but soon had realized that this didn't work, and now, they all had figured out that all they could do was wait and give Willow the time she needed to heal, something which seemed to her as if it would never happen. The worst thing was always the early morning, when the alarm clock rang and tore her out of her sleep; and still she got up every morning, went through her usual morning routine and then made her way to her classes.

This morning, she almost felt like ignoring her obligations, and stay in the dorm room all day instead, lying in bed and thinking of the wonderful hours she had shared with Tara; she knew though that, if she started doing so once, she'd spiral even deeper into her depression, and thus didn't allow it, getting up instead and making her way to the bathroom. She muttered a short and not all too polite greeting to the other girl brushing her teeth there, the blonde nodding in reply; since practically all of the students knew what had happened to Tara, it didn't surprise anyone anymore when Willow wasn't all too friendly or polite, and at least about this, she was glad.

Bending over the washbasin so she wouldn't end up staining her pyjama, Willow quickly brushed her teeth, then washed her face before she combed her hair; she didn't bother to do anything else with it, just letting it fall down to her shoulders as she made her way back to the room and changed into an outfit more appropriate for class, wishing Buffy a slightly friendlier good morning when the Slayer forced herself out of bed and yawned, then blinked at her sleepily.

"You got early class?" she asked as soon as she was capable of coherent speech, something which couldn't always be taken for granted at such early hours; Willow just nodded in reply, picking up her bag already and slinging it over her shoulders, smiling weakly in response to the happy, cheerful smile Buffy gave her.

"It's not like I feel like going there", she then stated, "but I guess I have to…"

Immediately, Buffy nodded, well aware of what might happen if Willow didn't go to her classes; she gave her friend another encouraging smile, one the redhead didn't return this time, merely mumbling "See you later" as she stepped out of the room and hurried down the hallway, soon reaching the auditorium where the first class of the day would be held.

To her dismay, the seat she usually used, in the middle of the second row, was taken when she entered the hall; she knew that this shouldn't surprise her, but so far, she always had managed to get that particular seat, and for reasons unknown, the fact that she wouldn't that day bothered her more than it should. Forcing herself to shrug it off, Willow sat down next to the usurper, throwing the woman a dirty look out of the corner of her eye; if she noticed, she obviously decided to ignore it, since she just kept her gaze focused on the book which laid on the table in front of her.

Grumbling to herself, Willow got her own book for the lesson out of her bag and let it fall on the table, creating a thump loud enough to make the woman beside her jump; she threw her a short, irritated glance over her rimless glasses, then looked back down on her book, obviously greatly interested in the printed words. Now making a point of ignoring the woman next to her – even though the poor person most likely had no idea why she was confronted with dirty looks and intentional small scares -, the redhead removed her thick notepad from the bag and placed it next to the book, finally finishing her preparations for the lesson by adding her pen, leaning back into the seat as soon as she had gotten done.

Checking her watch, she frowned to herself as she noticed that the teacher was late; holding back the urge to sigh, she looked up at the ceiling and started counting the cracks in it, trying to find any interesting patterns, an incredibly boring thing to do, but still better than just looking straight ahead at the empty blackboard. Finally, with ten minutes delay, the professor almost came barging into the class, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie before he apologized for being late; general murmur of acceptance was the response from the students, and he cleared his throat once more before he started the lecture, Willow's dismay about the usurper of her usual seat soon fading away as she focused on the words of the elder man.