It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.

~Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay

It was almost one in the morning by the time I finished writing the letter. It had taken me forever to decide what on Earth to put in a letter this final, but once I knew what to say, I couldn't write. My hand shook and tears covered the paper.

But now the words were written, and were being placed on Harry's writing desk. He was slumped over it, holding Sirius' knife in his hands. He'd done that since we'd returned to Privet Drive. He wanted to hold onto something. Quite unlike me.

Seeing him sleeping there, so vulnerable and unaware made me almost want to wake him up to say goodbye. But I knew he'd want to stop me and lock me up, so I settled for gently pushing his messy hair from his eyes.

He stirred in his sleep, but didn't wake. He would wake up in the morning, and see the words Sorry. I hope you understand. He'd be angry at me, I know, but not when I saw how happy I was.

Then I slipped out of his room, and crept down the stairs. Using my hair pin to unlock the door as I did every night, I entered the crisp August night.

Pulling my thin jacket around my shoulders, I walked down the street, a deep feeling of anticpation crawling over my skin. Holding my wand out into the road, it took moments for the Knight Bus to arrive.

"You again." The new conductor grunted. "Where do you go? Make kissy faces at your boyfriend?"

I winced, an evil hiss of It wasn't real travelling through my mind. "Oxford Graveyard." I said blankly, tossing coins into his hand. "That's where I go."

Grunting, the conductor took my money and I took a seat on the bed behind the driver. The bus shot off, leaving me curled up against the window. As the countryside flashed before my eyes, it made everything more real. 

Was I really going to do this? Go against everything I'd ever thought of?

"We're here, love." The conductor said in a gentler tone. "Don't be out too late."

"Trust me, I won't be here long. Soon it'll all be over." I sighed, swinging my legs off the bed.

I desecened the bus steps, and turned around as it whizzed off. That reminded me of another time a lifetime ago, when a blonde haired boy was sick in the bushes... Feeling sick myself, I vaulted myself over the locked graveyard gates.

There was an eerie feeling about being in a graveyard at night, the sort of creeping feeling that a zombie could jump out at you in any moment. But there was also a beautiful silence about it, the kind that allowed you to grieve alone.

And the privacy matter. Nobody would think to look for you in graveyard at one in the morning.

As if in a trance, I followed the path of already falling leaves towards Jenna's grave. I still couldn't believe that Mark hadn't been lying about this grave, that he'd actually taken the time to give Jenna a proper burial after killing her.

I knelt in front of the grave, patting the headstone as if I was touching Jenna again. It was a simple black headstone, with the engraving: 

Jenna Emery Oswin

18th December 1959~3rd August 1994

A wonderful mother of four daughters. She will missed.

Mark had even put a small framed photo of Jenna within the gravestone, a photo of a suntanned Jenna from our holiday to Paris when I was eight. It made me ache just looking at her.

"Hey Jenna," I said, faking a smile. "I know it's been a while since I came to visit, but I had a lot to think about. I brought you flowers though."

I placed the small bunch of Crynanthenuems on the grave bed, next to a drawing of a cat Hollie had left last week. "I saw Lacey and Hollie last week. They're living with Lacey's boyfriend, and Hollie has a kitten of her own now, called Mikey. He's cute." I paused. "But that's not why I'm here."

I pulled out my wand, lying it on my lap. "I'm erasing some of my memories. I know, I know, you're probably yelling at me from the big place in the sky. But I have to do it. I--I can't live with these memories anymore."

Kneeling forward, I tried to stop a shake going through me. I couldn't stop now. I had to tell Jenna, before she was even more disapointed in me. 

"This--this person who I loved more than anything in this world told me the whole relationship was a lie. It wasn't real. And everything came crashing down. He promised me things would get better, that I didn't need to be guilty anymore. And he lied about everything else, so he probably lied about that too..." I pulled at my fingers, agitated. "So why try to recover when there's no chance of me doing it by myself?"

I stood up, holding the wand in my hand. "I'm only getting rid of the guilt and regret, I promise--well and all memories of ever dating him. He'll just be an enemy who tried to trick me. Then maybe I can be happy, move on with my life..."

I knelt down, gently stroking the photo of Jenna's face, feeling a tear drop down my face. "Maybe then I can actually think of people without feeling like I'm drowning."

Getting to my feet again, I raised my wand, pointing it at my head. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my head, my breaths short and anxious. My eyes met Jenna's photo, and I thought of how she would tell me to run, get away from here.

No. I had to do this.

My heart seemed to be missing beats and I could feel a sharp pain in my chest. "Ob--"

But I couldn't do it. My breaths were becoming shorter and bile was rising up my throat and every part of my body was screaming at me to run, run from this danger.

Shoving my wand into my pocket, I staggered out of the graveyard, everything swaying and disorting into a strange grayness. I stumbled into the locked gates, sinking to the floor as I threw up all over myself.

Starting to sob, I rubbed at my sick covered top as my chest tightened futher. This was a panic attack, I was sure of it, but I couldn't stop my heart as it skipped beats and my breath shortened into pants.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. You're okay. You're alive. You're okay.

I kept thinking these things until my head hurt, trying to painfully slow my breathing down. It felt like an hour, but by the time the weight on my chest lifted, my phone told me only ten minutes had passed.

Why couldn't I do it? Why couldn't I erase the memories causing so much pain? Why did I always have to hurt? Why couldn't I be brave?

I hit my head backwards into the fence, wincing as it stung. The pain ecnouraged my twisted mind, and I kept slamming my head into the metal until I felt a trickle of blood trickle down my cheek.

Sobs started again, realising what I was trying to do--erase my memories the hard way. The destructive way that could seriously hurt me. With shaking hands, I dialed the number I'd rung the most over the summer.

"Hello?" his sleepy heavy voice came from down the phone. His voice was so normal and unaware, that I burst into noisy tears again. "Rory? Is that you?"

"A-Arthur." I sobbed down the phone. "P-please, please help me."

"Where are you?" His voice was now alert. "The graveyard?"

"Hurry, please." I whined, and the line went dead.

I huddled up in a ball, the smell of vomit and blood making my head ache and cry even more. How did I end up like this? What did he turn me into that day?

A set of headlights flashed up my vision, and I winced as the light hit the side of my face. A door slammed, and I could hear somebody running. "Accio!" Arthur whispered, and the gate creaked open.

He was at my side in seconds, hoodie on backwards and hair askew. "Oh my God Rory, are you okay?"

I shook my head, holding myself tighter. Now that another person could see the results of my idea, I couldn't bare to speak it out loud. I was so stupid... so stupid. What was I doing to myself?

He placed his hand on top of mine, but I jerked it away. I couldn't stand to see Arthur being so kind to me when I was being such a coward. "Let's get you into the car, huh? Get you cleaned up."

Shakily I got to my feet, Arthur gently putting a hand on my back to guide me out of the graveyard. He helped me into the passenger seat, where I started to shake, feeling sick again. Not the physcial sick, but the mental kind that comes from guilt and stupitidy.

"Right, well I've got an old blanket--you must be freezing." Arthur said, draping a thick blanket around my shoulders. I wrapped it all around me, wishing I could just disapear. My hand found the fabric of material from Sirius' blanket and my finger ran along it, trying to calm myself.

"Right, I've got no plasters, so you'll have to do with a McDonald's napkin for the blood.." Arthur said, passing me a napkin. "It's not used, promise."

I nodded, pressing it to my head, wincing as it hit the pressure point of impact. Arthur and I sat in silence for a few minutes, until he fiddled with the car heating and put music on the radio quietly.

"Okay then, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Arthur said. "You're hurt."

I didn't say anything.

"Oh my God, were you attacked?" Arthur said, his voice raising. "Were you mugged? Oh my God, did they hurt you in other ways?"

"No!" I exclaimed, catching his eye. When he relaxed, I whispered. "I did it to myself."

"On the railings?" Arthur said, and I nodded. He paused. "Why?"

"I was trying to erase my memories." I whimpered. "I nearly used the spell but I had a panic attack... I couldn't do it."

"Well that's a bonus, right?" Arthur said with a faint smile. "You stopped yourself doing it. That's an improvement from the start of the summer!"

I thought of all the times I'd begged him to wipe my memories and winced. "I'm sorry Arthur... I know I piled a lot on you..."

He just shrugged and smiled. "Well you know, if I was falling apart I'd want somebody to be there for me... So I thought I'd do that for you."

"It hurts just thinking of him." I whispered, pulling the blanket further around me. "I want to focus on the happy memories, but they weren't even real to him... So that makes the last two years of my life dark and false. I can't deal with that."

"What he did was inhumane." Arthur said, and he sounded angry. And Arthur didn't get angry easily. "If he didn't love you, he should never have tried to date you. He knew what he was doing, and that's what makes me the angriest."

"I know," I whispered. "And I don't want to feel angry about it, or nostaligic. I just want to forget it all happened to begin with. I want to stop focusing on the dark parts of my life and be happy."

Arthur moved along the bench seat of the car, and lightly picked up my hand. "Now listen to me, Aurora Potter. If there's one thing I've learnt, it that the darkness defines us. It changes us, makes us into the people we are today. I wasn't always a pacifist and vegetarian you know."

Not letting go of his hand, and shutting my eyes, I asked, "But I don't want to let the dark times define me. I feel like I'm drowning Arthur, and I just want to see the surface."

"Look at it this way." Arthur said quietly, running a finger over my palm. "You aren't the same person you were before you discovered who you really were. Learning that changed you and your relationships with your adopted family... But stripping away Aurora Oswin created Rory Potter, a strong girl who is braver than a thousand lions."

"Wanting to erase your memories isn't brave, Arthur. I'm a coward."

"You're brave for almost doing it. I never would have." Arthur said with a crooked smile. "But when you're stuck in the darkness, you can't imagine a way out. But in the end, it's a passing thing, this shadow. Even the darkness must pass. Even if it takes years, it'll pass."

I could feel tears start to fall, but I could feel a smile start to involunatarily creep onto my face. "Did you literally use Lord of the Rings to motivate me?"

Arthur chuckled, and lightly squeezed my hand. "What can I say? I'm a dork." He cleared his throat. "But seriously. One dark time in my life, I felt like you did now. I was drowning in pain and misery and saw no escape. But Cole pulled me out when things escalated. Then I could finally breathe and see how he saw things."

"Well then, you must see me as pretty stupid. That's how I feel." I wiped at my tears angrily.

"Hey, we all deal with things differently." Arthur said. "I bottled things up until the concequences were almost catastrophic. Cole drank, I knew Alia had anger issues when she was younger... Everybody is different. Remember that."

"Ironic." my lip twitched in a smile. "I do want to get better Arthur. I want to just be normal."

"How about we start with clean clothes and a good night sleep?" Arthur said. "You can crash at mine."

"Why are you so nice to me?" I questioned. "I'm not a very good friend."

Arthur lightly kissed the top of my hand with a soft smile. "You're my best friend, silly. Now come on. Seatbelt on before I fall asleep at the wheel."

Arthur started the engine and backed out away from the graveyard. My eyes fixated on where Jenna and Kayley's graves were until they were just faint shadows in the background. Looking for something to distract myself, I turned up the radio which had been a mere buzz for our conversation. 

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right...

I felt a small weight lift off of my heart as I caught a glimpse of Arthur smiling at me subtbly. Maybe it was the loss of blood and sleep deprivation, but I had a feeling that things might actually be alright.

* * * 

Soon I was sat on Arthur's bed, wearing a borrowed Joy Division sweatshirt and pyjama bottoms that were apparently Arthur's when he was a lot shorter. He was getting changed, and as I brushed out my hair, I felt almost calm.

That's the sort of effect Arthur's room had on me, weirdly. It screamed home and was so colourful with vintage band posters and a wall sized Middle-Earth next to a large Hufflepuff flag. Everything was in it's place and used--it reminded me of the room I had in the Oswin's.

I lent back against the bedframe, something crinkling under my weight. I shifted slightly, to see a piece of paper. A letter. I picked it up, frowning when I saw it was addressed to Malfoy. 

My eyes skimmed over certain sentences. You need to know how badly you've traumatised Rory. You were like a dumb kiddie plaster holding back the tidal wave of guilt, grief and pain.  I hid an illness. 

"Hey." Arthur said softly, and I dropped the letter. "I got some stuff for you."

He sat cross legged in front of me, holding plasters and pills. "Hold your hair back, you need a plaster."

"Does this mean you'll be my stupid kiddie plaster?" I asked quietly, pushing my hair back.

Arthur didn't miss a beat. "How much did you read?"

"Only that part... And how you were ill." I said quietly. "I never knew."

"How would you?" Arthur shrugged, gently wiping anti-septic on my forehead. I winced. "Sorry."

"It's fine." I said. "I've had worse."

"Me too." Arthur chuckled with a smile, but it didn't meet his eyes. "Radiotherapy aged thirteen isn't fun. It was so painful that I couldn't eat or sleep properly, and the tumour carried on growing... So I wanted to literally drown myself in the bath. But I didn't. And now I'm four years into remission... I still walk into walls though."

"And you still smile after all of that." I whispered, squeezing Arthur's hand as he placed a plaster on the cut. "You're so brave."

"Well I literally faced death, I thought I'd try to always be happy, not to waste this miracle I'd been given." Arthur forced  a smile. "There. All sorted."

He poured a handful of pills into my palm. "Your anti-depressants. I took the liberty of apparating to your room to get them."

I swallowed them dry, almost choking as the disgusting things went down my throat. "I suppose it's all part of recovery, right?"

"See, Lord of the Rings is inspiring!" Arthur grinned. He crawled off the bed, and turned on the television. "Not as inspiring as Friends though."

"Friends?" I frowned. "What's that?"

"You haven't lived!" Arthur declared. "It's my favourite show, I've been rewatching season two before season three starts next month..."

I crawled under his striped devet, knowing this had always been the routine when I was over. I slept in the bed as I sobbed, as Arthur took residence on his chair. But after learning what I had about him, and my re-determination for recovery, I wanted that to change.

"You can sleep up here, if you want." I said awkwardly. "If you want."

"Uh, yeah, sure, w-whatever." Arthur spluttered, crawling up onto his bed and sliding into the sheets. I was painfully aware of how close the two of us were in this narrow bed. "Cosy, huh?"

"Very." I said. "Now, are you putting this show on or what?"

So we spent the next hour in silence as I was introduced to the lives of Central Perk's biggest customers. My eyes were starting to get heavy, but I had to ask Arthur something.

"Am I the only one apart from your family who knows?"

"Well Ben knows, he went to all of my radiotherapy with me." Arthur said. "Eloise knew. She didn't take it very well though."

"Is that why she broke up with you?" I asked quietly.

Arthur kept his eyes fixated on Rachel, as she paraded around the wedding venue in an awful bridesmaid's dress. "We'd been dating for a while, thought I'd tell her about the fake eye. But she freaked out, and broke up with me because she thought the eye was a sick joke. But then Ben found out and told her about the cancer, and she wanted to pity date me. I wouldn't let that happen. I hate pity for my illness."

Slowly, I wrapped my hand around Arthur's. "Well I like your fake eye. It looks exactly like the other one, a pretty grey shade."

Arthur smiled. "That's what I like about you. You don't judge people, you make them feel better." Arthur gasped suddenely. "Yes! Monica and Richard broke up! Finally!"

I frowned at the screen. "But they were happy together."

"They wanted different thing, and that never works in a committed relationship. I'll give you all my money to bet Monica and Chandler end up together."

"Oh please, that'll never happen. She still loves Richard."

"She won't always love him." Arthur said quietly. "One day, she might be happy with somebody who isn't him."

There was a silence in the room that told me he wasn't talking about fictional characters. "The disk finished. Time to sleep." I whispered.

Darkness engulfed the room, and I could only see the outline of Arthur's face. Slowly, I cuddled into his side, wanting the touch of somebody I trusted and knew. Arthur silently put his arms around me, and I felt instantly calm.

"I still don't know why you think of me as your best friend. I'm not a very good friend." I whispered in the darkness.

"There's no other friend I have like you, Rory."

And I settled into Arthur's embrace, exhausted, thinking of how my relationship might not have been real with Malfoy--but Arthur and his idea of recovery surely was.

- - - - - 

A/N Well that was a rollercoaster of a chapter to write.

AND ALSO NEARLY 300 READS WHEN I ONLY HAVE A PREFACE UP OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING.

Anyway, song of the chapter is Drown by Bring me the Horizon, kinda relevent.

Any thoughts about Rory or Arthur?? I get Rory's behaviour is kinda confusing but what Draco did really shook her world up and she's kinda confused about everything. (Not to mention she doesn't know he was lying like we do)

P.S this book is going to be like 26 parts (shortest book yet) so maybe we'll get this book finished before the summer!