Again, I apologise to anyone who was reading this story. At least I warned you this time about not updating. Anyway, I've finally found the time and the inspiration to write something new. Also, with a little bit of help from someone new, I think I might have found my happy place. This story might just have a happy ending after all. I suppose we'll just have to see how it pans out.

Recovery takes a long time and a lot of effort. Its something that people don't always think about; they just imagine that you get better and everything's alright again. That's just not true, healing is all part of the pain. And despite your best efforts, you never heal completely; there's always a part of you that's damaged, which will never get better. Experiences scar you for life.

Sometimes these scars are easy to hide, they can b forgotten and never have to be dealt with. Sometimes they are right in front of you. You can never forget them, never pretend they're not there. They will always remind you of what happened to you and how vulnerable you are. And then there are scars that everyone will see, and for many these are the worst because they tell people your story. Total strangers will be able to see a part of you that is private, and you will never be able to get away from it.

Harry had a scar, of course. It was what made him famous, it was different. His scar showed that he was strong, that he lived.

Ginny's was different. That cruel, angry line that worked its way across her forehead and down to her eye was a symbol of her weakness. It was there because she was stupid and failed to help herself or her friend. It showed the whole world her pain and she hated herself for it.

She had other scars, of course. The ones she made her self, especially, were something she wished she didn't have. But there was something different about those ones. SHE had made them and they showed that she had had a choice. They showed that she had some control over something. They were, in a way, a sign of strength. Ginny wasn't proud of herself for those scars, but they reminded her that she could get through difficult times. But now, whenever she saw her face, she would only see her weakness.

Ginny was looking at herself in the mirror in her room at the Burrow. She had been sitting, tracing her scars with her fingertips, trying to remember the stories behind them. There was the small, circular one on her left foot, where Fred had stuck a quill in her 3 years ago. There was the ring of tiny tooth marks, just below her elbow, where a gnome had bitten her when she was five. There was the harsh, jagged line across her side that she had made the night before Sam attacked her. And, on the inside of her thigh, was the first scar she had ever given herself. The one that, in truth, meant the most. She traced the raised tissue that made the outline of a heart and the letter inside: a small H.

'Its funny what you do when you think you're in love', came a voice from behind her.

Ginny jumped at the sound and twisted round in her chair. Her eyes opened wide when she saw Hermione looking first at her leg, then back up to her face. Ginny tried to reply but found herself stuttering and unable to form actual words. Hermione smiled and she managed to calm herself down a bit.

'You're up', Ginny finally managed to get out.

'It would appear so' Hermione replied, smirking slightly. 'Thought I'd come and see what you were up to.'

'Remembering', she stated sadly while looking down at the marks on her arm.

'The scars aren't who you are, Gin, just part of who you were. Remember that.' She said, tracing the scar on Ginny's head. She looked thoughtful then smiled and continued, 'If they were, you'd still be in love with Harry'

Hermione laughed slightly while pointing to the raised letter on Ginny's thigh.