A/N: This story is inspired by the song "Future" from Paramore's self titled album.

"Hermione, dear, it's good to see you again."

Dr. Reid (she preferred just being called Jenny) greeted Hermione at the door to her office. She half hadn't expected the young witch to return to her office - usually patients with the amount of emotional trauma this young woman had were the most difficult to persuade to come back. She didn't blame them. This office brought out a lot of buried pain and refilled the grave with confidence. Their last consultation was only a brief meet-and-greet between her appointments though, there was still a chance Hermione wouldn't return once they got down to the nitty gritty of her life.

"You too, Jenny. How are you?"

"Good, thank you. Take a seat. Tea or coffee?"

Hermione selected the same plush armchair as last Monday and politely declined. Jenny noted that the girl looked remarkably similar to the photos plastered across the Daily Prophet articles about the War from two years ago that she had to dig up for a bit of research on her newest patient. She could tell that Hermione was still burdened by the horrors of being on the front lines of a war, but she hadn't buried it either. It was a good note to start on.

"So if you're ready to, I think we should begin to focus on why you sought out professional advice. And don't tell me it's because you're bored and it's free." It was true, Hermione wasn't paying a dime for her services. If the famous Harry Potter walked through her door, he wouldn't be paying either. Or any other Order members. The Ministry had been trying to rebuild favour in the public eye as soon as the War ended, and what better way to do that than openly support the heroes that had saved them all?

Hermione gave her a small smile. "Of course not, that would be a waste of your time. But like I said last week, there's so much I haven't… I could've… I could've done a lot more, for everyone. There was so much death, so much pain, and here I am, pottering around my paid-for flat a block away from Diagon Alley, wasting my life away. And I can't sleep properly half the time, I feel like I ought to be ready for something to go wrong, or someone to call for help. Like it's my responsibility." She folded her hands in her lap, looking at her unpainted nails to avoid the therapists gaze. She knew that talking about her problems would eventually help ease her pain, but it had been two miserable years of being too scared to move her life forward, to accept that her life needed a new focus, a new direction.

"It's perfectly normal to feel this way, although after two years it should be easing up. And once again, I am very happy that you returned. It's a good step to moving on. Now, forgive me if you think it's too out of line, but it's very rare that I have the fortune to consult with people whose lives have been published for Britain, if not the whole wizarding world, to follow for years. It might be a good idea for us to go through my observations and see if we can sort fact from fiction. With the way the Ministry was back then I doubt all of it is true, especially with its tight hold on the Daily Prophet. Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded, thankful for the early interruption. She was sure the older lady could tell that after a few sentences she was struggling with what she wanted to say. She had become a different person after the War, that was for sure.

"So first off, you had a good relationship with the owner of the Quibbler?"

"His daughter, Luna, actually."

"I see, I see. So whatever was published in the Quibbler would contain more truth?"

"Um, maybe most of it? I didn't end up reading much and I never found it in me to go back and see what they were saying, but anything about nargles is most likely fiction."

"Yes, I skipped those parts myself. So, did you break into Gringotts?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you stole priceless artifacts?"

"They were enchanted with dark magic but yes, ma'am."

"And instead of being subjected to the horrors of those who break into Gringotts, you rode out on a dragon?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Jenny leant back in her chair. She had trained for years to become an accredited therapist, and had spent even more time honing in her trade, learning from the best and dealing with the worst, but this took the cake. Hell, this baked its own cake.

She must've looked as shocked as she felt, because Hermione commented "To be fair, those articles probably make it sound a lot easier than it was. That probably happened in the span of an hour or so and only stealing Helga Hufflepuff's cup was planned."

Jenny laughed, happy that Hermione could see the humour in part of her life's absurdity. "Just a few more things to clarify but I think I have these right. You didn't date Mr. Potter in your fourth year?" Hermione shook her head. "And you dated Ron Weasley for a short time? Or you are currently dating him?"

That question made the girl in front of her sigh. "No, never dated him, just kissed. I'm annoyed that information spread around though, it was a spur of the moment thing."

"Would you want it to be more? Most people who admit they kissed someone are embarrassed, but then again, they come to see me for different reasons." Jenny said conspiratorially.

"No…no I don't think so. Too much time has passed and we're not as close anymore. Two different people came out of Hogwarts that night."

"Do you think you'd be interested in starting a steady relationship?"

"Not with the way my head is now, but hopefully soon if you can help." Jenny smiled. She genuinely liked Hermione, and she couldn't say that about all her patients.

"Well I'll see what I can do. Now, before you said you felt guilty about having survived the War when others didn't. Have you noticed a rather large divergence in your emotions in the past two years, such as lack of emotions or feeling angry or ashamed that you're still alive?"

Hermione considered it for a moment. "I definitely still have emotions. I don't think I've been angrier, and I don't think I would call it shame, guilt fits better there." Jenny scribbled some notes on her notepad as she spoke. Not parchment and quill she noted. Jenny caught her looking.

"Just basic notes, don't worry."

"I wasn't worried, just curious. You're not using a quill."

Jenny smiled again. "Very observant. Most people don't pick up on that. I have to be able to take notes rather quickly for some people, and this is easier. Don't have to dip it. Alright, now define 'not sleeping well' for me. Is that every night or just every couple of nights? Do you sleep at all, or is it more that you constantly wake? Do you dream normally?"

"Not every night, and mainly I just can't sleep at all. Once I'm asleep I rarely wake. What do you mean by normal dreams?"

"Not nightmares, well, not nightmares every night."

"How often?"

"These days I'd say once every month or two."

"How many times a week do you not sleep?" Jenny's notes had reached a third page on her small notepad.

"It used to be a lot worse, four to five times a night maybe? But now it's twice a week, three times at most. I'd say every 3 days but I'd have to check my calendar."

"That was going to be my next question, good on you for writing it down. Have you participated in any…self-destructive tendencies? And don't say no straightaway, consider the past two years. Have you taken any drugs, medication, potions, charms, or any other tools that would change how you would normally behave?"

"Apart from the medication that I was given when I was released from St. Mungo's, none of the above."

"Well that's good to hear. Have you had hallucinations about any part of the War, be it people, events, or battles?"

"I've had very realistic dreams, but nothing that kept going when I woke up."

"You said before that you wouldn't consider dating Mr. Weasley. Do you still keep in contact with him?"

"I see him every week I go to the Weasley family dinner and I don't think I've consciously gone out of my way to avoid him, but I don't see him as much as I thought I would when we finished school. Then again I'd thought we might've given a relationship a chance by then but…"

"You've both changed?"

"Exactly. And it's not like he's been free, he's been an Auror for the past two years, although he retired from that three weeks ago."

"What's he doing now? Or do you consider it to be private?" Jenny shouldn't have asked, but she was curious. And knowing if he was even in the country would help her to help Hermione, so she indulged herself.

"He's working at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes which I don't think could've been kept quiet. His brother George is really struggling without his twin."

"Fred died in the War, didn't he?" Jenny asked quietly.

"Yes, ma'am." Hermione studied her hands again. The world was truly a different place without the fantastic duo of the twins. While WWW was still a thriving business, especially after the War, George hadn't been able to come up with many new ideas for the shop. Granted, his repertoire of jokes and gags was large enough from brainstorming before everything had changed, but the list was dwindling to a few ideas that were impossible to invent or carry out. Ron joining the WWW team was a godsend as Mrs. Weasley commented last week, much to the absolute shock of everyone. But for now, it was still obvious that something was amiss in the shop, there was a lack of spontaneous flair. It pained Hermione to remember the time she visited around four months ago with Ginny, but she hoped Ron would help George out of his inventor's block.

Jenny could tell Hermione wasn't ready to talk about such things, so she tactfully moved on instead of pushing the subject. She truly wanted Hermione to return next week. "And Mr. Potter? Do you keep in contact with him?"

"Same boat as Ron, really. Harry's well on his way to becoming one of the top Auror's from what I hear from Ginny, his girlfriend. He also has a godson that was orphaned during the War, so he spends a lot of his free time with him too. He still manages to make it to family dinners occasionally so I see him there."

"And you're still close to the rest of the Weasley family?"

"As close as I was before, but Mrs. Weasley has become a surrogate mum of sorts. She's always treated me well, especially coming from a Muggle background and when my own parents can't help me. Nowadays I feel like I talk to her more than my own mother, which is probably true to be honest with you, Jenny."

Hermione wasn't happy with that revelation, but it was true. After the War and all the craziness of the 48 hours after, she headed for Australia to find her parents. Cleverly used charms that thankfully hadn't expired helped greatly in her search, and after four days she had found them and fixed their memories. They decided not to return to Britain though, enjoying the sunshine and laid-back culture of the land down under and reluctance to pack up their business yet again and move back home, so Hermione had only been to visit a handful of times. Phone calls were exchanged every fortnight and Hermione cherished them, but she didn't miss them as much as she used to. Must be a side effect of getting older she mused.

"This next one might be a bit trickier, so take your time. How do you feel about the world?"

Hermione considered it for a moment. "I wasn't there, but I don't think the world we live in is the same as the one after the first War. None of the Order members believe that Voldemort could possibly ever return and I saw him die, I believe it too. Most of the Death Eaters have been put on trial and are paying their dues, so that's something too. Everything feels safe, like we can move on with our lives, like we should move on with our lives. But with the way I'm sleeping and my lack of motivation I can hardly hold down a job successfully, I'd be letting my employer down. I feel…stuck."

"It's good that you've got that insight into yourself and can tap into how you feel, but you didn't answer my question as well as I hoped. Do you feel like the world has let you down? Do you feel like it's your fault that not everything went perfectly for the Light side in the War? Do you blame it on a form of higher entity?"

Hermione paused again, trying to come up with a coherent answer. "It's definitely not my fault that things went wrong. It was a War; bad stuff was bound to happen. I tried my hardest, along with everyone else. We won. And we didn't have as much death as the Order expected apparently, and Harry and Ron and most of the other people I care about turned out alright. I'm happy we won, but like I said, I do feel a bit stuck." Hermione let out a whoosh of air. This was harder than she thought it would be.

Jenny finished her notes and looked at her watch. Their hour was almost up and she couldn't tell if Hermione would be ready to hear her diagnosis before she left. "Have you got anything on tonight?"

"Weasley family dinners are always on a Monday, but I can Floo Mrs. Weasley and cancel if you need me to stay?"

"That's alright dear, I have another appointment in a few minutes. I'd rather not give my initial diagnoses and possible treatments when people are busy but if you'd like to know what I've got I'm more than willing to share. You may even be able to discuss some things with Mrs. Weasley."

"Do you think I'd benefit from knowing?"

"It's entirely up to you. Personally, I think delaying it for a week will have you ready to steal my notebook from my office in a few days." That brought out a smile in Hermione much to Jenny's delight. She had correctly pegged her type as anything but patient when it came to knowledge.

"If we have time I think I'd like to know now."

Jenny flicked through her notebook, deciding on key quotes from Hermione to put things into the best perspective as possible. "From what you've told me in both this session and our last, your life has been put on hold since you were about 15. In this time, you've seen things I'm not even sure I'll be able to help you with, although I will dedicate myself to trying as hard as I can for you. You've seen things that belong in history books and your mental state has survived the brute of it. You've told me yourself you don't sleep well some nights, you feel guilt that you're alive and breathing while others who put the same amount of effort in as you have passed in their battles. Your relationships with those you were very close to are fraying, although we can chalk that up to your emerging adulthood as much as we can blame the War. You struggle to think about the people you've known and love pass on, and I can tell you miss your parents being close to you. Your life has halted, you have no job and no steady and permanent routine to stick to. The Ministry and your parents have been funding you financially while you adjust to living instead of surviving. Does this sound correct?"

Hermione nodded, but Jenny could see that her eyes were glassed over with unshed tears. She carried on. "From this information, I believe you are showing not all, but the key symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Are you familiar with this term?" Hermione nodded again, her tears threatening to fall. "I doubt you would benefit from medication, plus I wouldn't prescribe it to you for another month. Is this okay?" Another nod. "Good. I've had too many sob stories who wait for a diagnosis and then try and get their hands on a prescription for the strongest Dreamless Sleep potion St. Mungo's has."

"How long until you think I'd be steady enough to join the workforce?" Hermione asked, ignoring Jenny's thin attempt at humour.

"If you're willing to continue psychological treatment, that is talking sessions and therapy with me, a few months should be enough. If you feel the itch to rush though this though, I do have a suggestion that worked for a few clients of mine and I believe would work for you in particular."

"What is it?" Hermione asked determinedly. She was more than ready to move past all this, and to get out of this office and lie down on her couch in her flat. It had been quite the day.

"I said before that you had seen things that should only be experienced in history books, didn't I?" Jenny could see the cogs turning in her head before she could finish her thought. "Why not try and turn your experience into one?"

Hermione's thoughts were rushing through her mind. Could she do that? Would she be able to do that?

"If I were writing a book I would need serious help. Do you think other people would be willing to share?"

"You could just write your story and be done with it. No one needs to see it if you don't want them too. Think of it as a Pensieve, something you can store your memories in and forget about until you need them again."

Hermione was intrigued by the idea of writing a book instead of notes for herself. She could write it as a textbook, or as a new chapter to a proper history textbook – maybe even A History of Magic. She could ask Harry and Ron for help, as well as Mrs. Weasley and anyone else from the Order that would be willing to aide her. She could write it completely anonymously, leaving her personal thoughts out of the book and going on straight facts.

"We need to wrap up this session unfortunately. I can tell you like that idea though; it would be good for you. It's something that you can do from your own home and not have to worry about your job, and if it becomes too much at times it can always be shelved and returned to later.

"It's a wonderful idea. In truth, I'm a bit upset I didn't think of it myself, its right down my alley. All the people I can interview and put pieces of history together, I can use it as a true piece of history if I play my cards right, I can help others put their pain into words, stop them from wasting their life the way I've been with mine. There's so many possibilities with this, don't you agree?" Hermione stood to grab her bag as she talked and finally turned to face the therapist, who was looking at her in shock.

"I rarely hear anyone speak that fast who isn't having a nervous breakdown. Are you alright?"

Hermione grinned at that. "This is how I used to be back in my first year at Hogwarts. I feel…refreshed. Excited. That's been rare in my life these past few years. Thank you so much Dr. Reid."

"Not a problem at all, dear. Would you like me to schedule you in for the same time next week, or would you like to think about it first?"

"Same time next week would be lovely if you could fit me in."

"Excellent. I'll see you next week then Miss Granger." Jenny had walked Hermione to the door of her office. "Have a good time at your dinner tonight. And if you're going to ask Mrs. Weasley for help with your book or your notes, be prepared for her to say no. People experienced the War differently to you, she lost a son and her brothers, if I recall correctly. That goes for everyone you ask."

That dampened Hermione's spirits, but she put it in stride. "I'll remember that. Thank you again, Jenny."

Hemione walked out of the office and into the sunshine through the muggle entrance. The weather seemed to be reflecting her mood, and she was grateful for it. Her flat was a few blocks away and she had a few hours to kill before dinner with the Weasley's. She decided to wait until dinner was finished to see how people were feeling and if they'd be receptive to Dr. Reid's idea for a book. She wasn't worried if they said no, though. This was something she could complete on her own.

Hermione made her way home, happier than she'd been in too long.