Author's Note: Another chapter beta'ed by the fabulous tectonictigress. Many thanks to her! And additional thank you's to bailey4047 and Caprubia for prereading to make sure I'm not losing my mind in rewriting this! If you tried to read chapter one right after the email came to you, go back and reread. It took nearly two hours to upload the new chapter one and there are some differences that are important.

Chapter 2:

Hermione sat in the warm July sun with the other eighth-years and Luna. The first group therapy session was getting ready to begin and the therapist had suggested that they go outside. The giant squid was splashing playfully in the Black Lake as they all stretched out in the grass. Everyone else had stripped off their extra clothing, wearing the bare minimum to cover themselves, but both Hermione and Malfoy kept their long sleeves on. She was sweating and lifted her hair away from her neck in a big puffy mess, stray hairs sticking to her skin. Looking at Malfoy, Hermione was pleased that his own hair was matted to his forehead as he used his hand to brush the glistening sweat off of his face. She didn't fancy having anything in common with him, but at least she wasn't suffering alone.

The therapist was an elderly woman with a kind disposition named Esmeralda Little. She had everyone sitting in a circle, their eyes closed and breathing steadily to begin their session. Hermione opened her eyes briefly to glance around the circle. Seamus and Theo were listening intently, Blaise was pulling blades of grass from the ground, Luna seemed to be doing some deep meditative breathing, Neville looked nervous as he wiped his sweaty palms against his trousers, and Justin was irritated to be sitting between two Slytherins. Finally, her eyes landed on Malfoy. He was sitting back against his palms with his legs crossed in front of him. His eyes were closed but he had a deep scowl on his face.

How dare he? Out of everyone here, he was the least worthy. His family was part of the problem—they fought on the opposite side of the War until the last moment. He didn't have any loved ones lined up on stretchers along the walls of the Great Hall. No, his parents and he had survived unscathed; his father was still breathing valuable air, Kiss or no Kiss. Malfoy's punishment was light—returning to Hogwarts and keeping his head down? And he had the audacity to sit there and look put out? She huffed loudly, and he opened one eye and looked in her direction. She closed hers quickly and when she did her thoughts transfigured.

They had been cowards, Voldemort-sympathizers, the opposition. But the steel grey of his eyes brought her back to the ballroom where she had laid in a pool of blood as his aunt had carved into her arm. The haunted, horrified way he had clenched his eyes shut to avoid seeing her writhe beneath the crazed witch. The way he smelled, the feel of his warm breath as he had nearly panted with fear as he knelt alongside them. The hesitance in his voice as he fought to find a solution and avoid turning them over the Voldemort. Hermione felt her heart ache within her so powerfully she brought a hand to her chest and had to breathe deeply for a few long moments to get the feeling to subside. Reopening her eyes, she chanced a glance in his direction to find him staring up at the castle beyond her.

"Okay, please open your eyes. The point of these sessions is to introduce you to the concept of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is common amongst Muggles who fight in wars or the like, but it rings true for magical beings as well. I hope to teach you how to identify signs of PTSD, triggers unique to each of you, and techniques on how to cope when an episode does rear its ugly head." The witch was walking around their circle, speaking in a professional yet sympathetic tone. "While this will be offered to the younger students during the school year, each of you is going to have a full schedule as you serve an apprenticeship of sorts with the professors of this school. As such, over the next two months, Headmistress McGonagall has asked that we work in a group setting, as well as one-on-one to learn these triggers and coping mechanisms. There are other types of therapies I'd like to explore with you all as well. Each of you will step out of your comfort zones in the upcoming weeks, but hopefully, the zone you step into is a soothing and calming environment, free of judgment or hatred," Healer Little said sweetly, giving them all a sympathetic smile. "I'd like to begin by going around and introducing ourselves to one another. Please state your name, what you hope to accomplish this next year in school, and what you wish to do as you move on from here."

She began with Hermione, her smile growing wider as she called on the younger witch. She clearly knew who she was. "I'm Hermione Granger. I hope to…have one school year where I can focus on nothing but my education. After this, I'd like to fight for the rights of magical beings and creatures." Hermione thought it was best to keep it brief—no need to divulge too much of her personality or thoughts in these sessions.

Everyone wanted to make it through the year unscathed. Seamus wanted to go on to own a pyrotechnics shop; Theo wanted to become a lawyer; Neville wanted to grow the necessary herbs and plants needed to supply St. Mungo's; Blaise wanted to become a Professor here at the school—Care of Magical Creatures or Potions; Justin wanted to become a doctor—either Muggle or Magical (he hadn't yet decided); Luna wanted to travel the globe, searching for wrackspurts and nargles (to which Malfoy snorted a small laugh and Hermione shot him a death glare). Finally, Malfoy was up, and every set of eyes bore directly into him as he shifted uncomfortably where he sat. The non-Slytherins were all doubtful of his return, hesitant to accept him.

He cleared his throat and averted his eyes from his fellow peers. "I'm Draco Malfoy. I want to…prove myself to everyone…and I hope to go on from here to study…maybe alchemy or potions."

He was mumbling, and it was Justin who spoke up against him. "Prove yourself? Haven't you done that time and again as your family sided with You-Know-Who?"

Malfoy bristled and opened his mouth to say something just as the therapist cut him off. "There will be none of that during these sessions," she shot at Justin. "Everyone here has fought a battle and has proven themselves worthy to be here. If that were not true, Headmistress McGonagall would not have allowed his return."

Theo was giving Justin a deathly stare, almost willing Justin's head to explode. "Don't worry about that prick, mate," he muttered to Malfoy, his eyes never leaving Justin.

Hermione stared at the protective stance Theo had taken, even while remaining seated. She had never thought of the stoic and offensive Draco Malfoy as needing defending, even when he had slunk around with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. It was clear there was something more to their friendship than just being Slytherins and silently wondered if their bond was anything like the one she shared with her two best friends. Her mouth went dry as she thought about the boys, who were likely taking advantage of the sunny day and flying on their brooms with Ginny leading the way. She returned her focus to the agitated Healer.

"If we are quite through with the childish name calling and insult throwing, perhaps we could move on?" Healer Little asked, her hands on her hips.

Justin recoiled and sat back on his haunches once more, rolling his eyes. "Whatever."

"There are ten common reactions to trauma. Let us touch briefly on each today, and next session we will discuss triggers. The first reaction is fear and/or anxiety." She was still walking around the circle with her hands clasped behind her back. "Can anyone tell me why one would begin to feel anxious or fearful in the aftermath of the War?"

Everyone's eyes turned to Hermione expectantly, but it was Malfoy who spoke up. "One could feel those emotions as a response to a changed perception of the world. You go so long thinking the world is one way and then war happens, and your sense of safety is shattered."

Hermione stared at him, her lips parted as she took in his thoughtful response. Perhaps he truly was remorseful underneath that icy protective façade he wore—not unlike the mask of secrecy he had donned during the most shameful moments of his life. Healer Little nodded as she pondered his response. "Excellent. I can certainly see why you would answer with such a sentiment, and I'm sure everyone else here can agree," she tapped his shoulder softly and Malfoy tensed with the contact. "The second reaction is re-experiencing the trauma. We will go through this when we speak about triggers next session. Third is increased senses. Meaning you may feel jumpier or easily startled and more prone to react without thinking it through."

"The fight or flight response," Hermione offered, thinking back on the quickness with which she had drawn her wand on Malfoy in the corridor the day before.

"Precisely. I will try to teach you all techniques to avoid both fighting and running, instead replacing those behaviors with constructive ones. The fourth reaction is avoidance. This can be even more dangerous than any of the other reactions."

"If you avoid the painful thoughts and feelings, you will effectively push away all other positive emotions. I'd imagine that, for some, those emotions would be difficult to discern from one another," Malfoy added quietly, plucking a blade of grass between his fingers.

The people in the group were looking from him to Hermione, to the Healer. The two of them were the only people adding insight to the conversation the Healer was trying to initiate. Justin was still looking at the former Slytherin, disgusted that he dared to speak about PTSD, as though there was no possibility that Malfoy could understand what the rest of them were experiencing. Theo was nodding thoughtfully as he stared at his friend, something unspoken passing between the two.

"The fifth reaction is anger, irritability, and swift annoyance with others. Pretty self-explanatory. The sixth is guilt and shame. Can anyone tell me why someone with PTSD might feel guilty or ashamed?" the witch asked, stopping her pacing behind Neville.

"We survived when so many others didn't," Hermione whispered, more to herself than anyone else, though Healer Little sighed morosely and nodded in agreement.

"Yes. You all survived events that very few people in this world could understand. I will go into the reasons why you should not feel either of those particular emotions. The seventh reaction is depression and grief. We will go through techniques to assist you through those negative emotions as well. The eighth reaction will speak to you personally, Mr. Malfoy: a negative self-image."

Her intended target continued to stare straight ahead, though he gave a short nod and swallowed hard. He apparently didn't appreciate being singled out amongst the group—a feeling Hermione could comprehend, possibly more readily than anyone else seated around them. This thought further unsettled her—just one more way she could possibly relate to Draco Malfoy.

Justin scoffed in disgust. "His self-image? He did everything to earn the dirty looks and doubt being thrown his way now."

"That's it," Theo said, rising to his feet at this point and Justin rose to the challenge.

Malfoy stood as well and put his hand on Theo's chest. "Fuck him. He's not worth getting kicked out of Hogwarts for. I can't go back to Azkaban," he was pleading quietly with Theo.

Hermione had her wand in hand, ready to toss the two apart should they engage in a duel, or worse, a fisticuffs brawl. Theo looked down at his pale friend and nodded, clenching his jaw. "One more snide comment and I'm pounding his face in," he warned, stepping closer so that Malfoy had to take a step back.

Seamus tried to stand in front of Justin, sensing the tension unwavering. "Stop it, mate."

Justin pulled his shirt straight and pushed Seamus away. "Fuck you. Fuck all of you for laying down and accepting this betrayal by McGonagall."

And with that, he stalked off into the castle. The Healer looked around at the rest of them, her lips pursed in a severe manner that immediately had the rest of the men withering. They returned to their sitting positions. "Mr. Finch-Fletchley will come around. He's clearly suffering under the weight of his own emotions. The subsequent sessions will hopefully help him."

Theo scoffed but said nothing. Why did he feel the need to defend his friend when Malfoy himself wasn't willing to get into an altercation? Granted, Malfoy had Azkaban hanging over his head. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, the ninth reaction occurs within personal relationships—with family, friends and significant others."

"That's fairly obvious," Hermione noted, thinking of the pseudo-relationship she was in with Ron. Since his brother had died, his family had been in utter turmoil, and it put a definite strain on their friendship and dampened the feelings she had once thought were so strong.

"The final reaction is to turn to illicit drugs, potions, or alcohol to numb the feelings altogether," the Healer said. "Now, alcohol is banned on campus, but no one is daft enough to believe that you all do not have access to these items."

Seamus smiled faintly, and Theo nodded. Those two were definitely going to be trouble. "That is going to be the hardest battle for some of you, but the easiest for others," Healer Little informed them. "I would encourage you all, as much as possible, to avoid situations where you may be tempted to drink alcohol, at least until you have learned the other coping techniques."

"When are we going to go through coping mechanisms?" Luna asked, opening her mouth for the first time since they had introduced themselves.

Healer Little wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and took a deep breath. "Each of the subsequent sessions until the school year begins, we will cover one of the reactions and how to cope with the negative impacts of each. I've also tailored a therapy program to each one of you to help when times get rough. You may find it beneficial to also assist and work with one another, either in pairs or groups, to experience new and potentially calming activities. Once the school year starts, the Headmistress has asked me to offer assistance, should any of you need it."

For reasons unknown to Hermione, she felt better knowing there would be at least one person she could talk to during what was sure to be a lonely year. She looked at the ragtag team of adults sitting around her, each having suffered their own battle during the War, but none having shared her battle. She wished once more that her two best friends were with her and wondered if she was making the right decision in returning. Trying to picture herself in Auror's robes, Hermione's stomach began to roil and she shook the image from her head. It wasn't the path she was meant to travel.

"Now, if you all would, line up here and I will give you the time and location of your personal therapy sessions," the Healer told them, retrieving a small bundle of ribbon-tied parchment from the pocket of her robes.

Hermione was behind Malfoy and Theo, who were standing side-by-side. Malfoy was scowling and scrubbing a hand over his face as Theo spoke adamantly. "I swear, mate. This is not the year to fuck with me. I've been your silent, overlooked friend for far too long. Not anymore—I will beat his arse the Muggle way if he steps out of line again. I have nothing to lose—my father is dead and Daph left me."

They stepped forward and the Healer handed Malfoy his scroll. "This one may be more entertaining once the school year begins, but you may find that you can teach your ways to some of your fellow veterans here."

Malfoy turned the scroll over in his hands and raised a brow as he stepped away. Theo took his and gave the Healer a wide grin. "I so look forward to our one-on-one time, Madam. I think you'll quite enjoy delving into the depths of my mind—it'll be the topic of your next bestseller."

The Healer smiled back and touched Theo's face. "I'm sure we'll become quite acquainted over time, Theodore."

Hermione watched as Theo clapped Malfoy on the shoulder and the two spoke quietly as she stepped forward. The Healer handed her a small scroll, tied neatly with a royal purple ribbon. "Miss Granger. You'll be working with an old friend. I do hope you find it suitable to your needs and allow yourself to heal."

She tucked Justin's scroll back into her pocket. "I think we have spoken enough for the day. I will see you all next time," Healer Little said, waving a hand to dismiss them and pulling the collar of her robes from her neck. "Mr. Longbottom, if you would let Mr. Finch-Fletchley know I will be waiting in the Great Hall for him to join me."

Neville nodded and followed Luna into the castle. Seamus struck up a conversation with Blaise about their restoration of the Quidditch pitch and they walked off toward the stands together. Hermione turned the scroll over in her hands and sighed. She felt like an outsider as she watched Theo pull Draco into a brotherly hug and Draco return the sentiment. "They just don't fucking get it, Nott," Malfoy was saying.

"Just be yourself. If they accept you eventually, great. If not, fuck all of them. You are not your father," the tall, dark-haired wizard said as he pulled away from his comrade.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Hermione and Nott followed his glare. "Something we can help you with, Granger? Got any more insults to throw at him? Want to kick a man further while he's already down?" Theo asked, his playfulness with the Healer once again dissolved into his prior anger.

She swallowed nervously and shook her head. "I was going to head to the library and wanted to know if Malfoy would like to get a jumpstart on our restoration project."

"For fuck's sake, Granger. We've got well over a month and then an entire school year to finish. I know you're anxious to be back in your natural habitat, but can't you just give it a rest for one day?" Malfoy questioned, stalking past her. "Discover your therapeutic activity and go amuse yourself elsewhere."

She watched as he walked into the castle in a brisk manner, appearing entirely too graceful for such an angry man. Theo stepped up to her, his voice menacing as he spoke to her through clenched teeth. "You tell your boy Justin to back the fuck off. If Draco goes to Azkaban because of him, I can assure you I will share a cell with him because I will kill that bastard."

And with that, he turned on his heel and stalked away as well. Hermione was in utter disbelief. How was Justin 'her boy'? She had hardly said a hundred words to him in seven years and now it was her responsibility to make sure Justin and Malfoy didn't get into it? This year was already shaping up to be disastrous and it hadn't even started yet.

Why was Theo so overprotective of Malfoy? Sure, they were both Slytherins and both of their fathers were former Death Eaters, but Theo Nott had never been part of Malfoy's gang of bullies. I've been your silent, overlooked friend for far too long. Malfoy didn't seem like the kind of person who could get close enough to trust anyone. And yet, they had just embraced like brothers would, like she had seen Ron and Harry do plenty of times before.

She ambled slowly into the castle and made her way to the library. When she arrived, the state of the room—unchanged from the day before, when she could not bring herself to touch a thing—instantly made her heart heavier. The books were scattered all over the place and the shelves in desperate need of repair. Torn pages littered the aisles and the chandeliers that hung overhead were all cracked. She and Malfoy certainly had their work cut out for them.

Hermione pulled a chair out from beneath the closest table and collapsed into it, emotionally drained from her first interaction with the Healer. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and unrolled the parchment. Equine therapy with Professor Hagrid. His hut; dusk. Equine therapy? Horses? Her mind immediately went to the silvery blood of a unicorn, maimed by Quirrell during their first year, and she clenched her eyes. Unicorns were notoriously skittish—how could she possibly be expected to work closely with them?

She rose and went to the closest window. While the glass had been blown from most of the panes, this window remained intact, and she raised her sleeve and wiped away enough grime to peer out. Hagrid's hut looked the same as it always had, having been fully restored after the fires that had ravaged it just over a year before. Thick, hazy smoke billowed from his chimney and a smile graced her face as she thought of the rock cakes he always had waiting when he knew they were visiting. For the first time since returning to the castle, hope began to burn within Hermione's heart.

o-o-o

A/N: Please review! I know the differences aren't quite so dramatic yet, but we shall get there! Your feedback and support are much appreciated!