Burn, Burn, Burn

"I don't understand why I have to be here. I would much rather be at a pub or Mum's."

The woman sitting next to him turns her head slowly, yet with a smoothness that defines her disdain for the man sitting next to her. He reminds me of a petulant child who lost his balloon at a carnival or was denied a second serving of dessert.

"Ronald." It is cold and quiet but holds a commanding force that would make any Catholic school nun proud. "We have issues. Issues that need to be worked through. Issues that can't be cured overnight or at the pub."

"I don't feel like talking though," the man-child continues with his temper tantrum, including crossing his arms over his chest and not looking at any of us in the room.

"One of the problems we are facing is your time in the pub. It isn't healthy to drown your sorrows in firewhiskey or Muggle drinks. You're hurting, and I understand that. I am also. I loved Fred like a brother. I loved Tonks and Lupin. I saw the lives taken. I felt the pain of torture. I have visible as well as invisible marks, but I don't drink away my pain. I think it is time that you stop also."

She is rational, and since I have been seeing her for the past 8 months, I have seen her grow stronger. She has been through the seven levels of hell in her short life. War does that to a person. Yet, here she sits, trying to help the man next to her. I know what I want to say, what I should say - that he's not ready - but I worry about how it will set her back. So I let her take the lead. I let her try and have the man next to her face his own demons.

Love usually can break the walls that the man has built up.

I didn't know about the drinking, though. It seems that his pain has manifested in a different means than hers. And it can be more destructive. She dives into every project, sometimes forgetting to eat and sleep because she is so vested. We have worked out a schedule and discussed the reasons behind her past actions.

He, on the other hand, won't open up. It was one of the reasons I suggested that he attend this session with her. He closes himself from her, as I see now, and has turned into self-medicating his pain. This is a ring of fire that will burn him. I can already see the downfall this will take. I can see him spiraling down, down until there is nothing left of him but a scarred and charred soul.

"Hermione," I ask the young woman in front of me, "do you have anything to say? Maybe you can start us off today with how your week went."

"Thank you, Healer, my week was productive. I set the timer to take breaks, eat, and clear my mind as you suggested and found you were correct. I am more productive when I take care of myself. Now in the mornings, I recall the saying you told me. You can't fill from an empty cup. I say it to myself five times and whenever I want to work through a break."

I watch as her eyes go from dull brown, something that reminds me of hardened stone, to ones full of life. She has made such a productive turnaround, I couldn't be prouder if she was my own child.

"Why did you invite Ronald here today?" I question, although I know the answer. We discussed it at length over the past few weeks.

"I see him falling into a similar pit as I was. I want to help him. I need to see him get better because even with all his faults, I love him."

The man in question has his face glaring at the wall behind me, where my degrees - both Muggle and magical - reside. He has a long way to go before he comes around on his own, but I am patient. I will wait, and I will be here when he hits bottom. I just hope she will remain with him until then.

"Thank you, Hermione, but we discussed that Ronald won't get help until he is ready. Why do you feel that he is ready now?"

"Because if he doesn't find the help he needs, he will soon become as dangerous as the men that he seeks to put away."