A/N: I know my last chapter was realllly short, but one review? Come on! This chapter is MUCH longer, and I hate to beg, but please, please, PLEASE, read and review. I'm loving the story, but maybe that's because I know where it's going. I need some feedback asap so I know if it's even worth continuing. Thanks!

Chapter 2

Memories always start after sundown…

The sun has just slipped behind the leaning white marble building as she glanced over her shoulder. The empty streets of Diagon Alley seemed strangely imposing in the twilight and she fumbled for the tiny key in her pocket. She slipped it into the concealed lock in the upper left-hand corner of the first set of doors and stepped back as they swiftly opened. With another quick evaluation of the street behind her she noted it was deserted and stepped inside.

At the second set of doors, she was greeted by the night goblin who recognized her at once. He bowed slightly then held up his wand and she understood. Recognized or not, Gringotts wasn't one of the safest places in the wizarding world for nothing. She held her wand to him and he scanned it quickly. She kneeled and watched as he passed the tip of his wand in front of her eyes. Satisfied that she had been properly identified he turned to the locked door behind him.

"You're in very late, Ms. Weasley," he said. She nodded as he slipped his thumbnail into the lock and the door opened a crack. "I thought Mr. Weasley and yourself weren't due in until tomorrow morning?"

"We aren't," she stated simply, pushing though the door. "But we received the general assignment papers weeks ago. Would it be alright if I went ahead and got started on some of the lower security vaults tonight?"

"I see no reason why not. I don't need to warn you about staying alert, miss, do I?" His mouth twisted in an odd sort of way and she supposed it must have been a smile.

"No, of course not," she replied, and added as she turned, "Thank you, Ersted. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, ma'am," he said, pulling the door closed behind her.

She looked around the enormous entry room and again noted how peculiar a familiar place could feel when entirely abandoned. The marble floors were gleaming in the firelight from the torches spaced periodically around the room and her high-heeled boots were echoing softly.

At the end of the hall, she strode to a small wood-paneled door on the right that was partially hidden behind a large tapestry. Once inside the makeshift office she shared with Bill whenever they were at the bank, she began shuffling through the parchment lying haphazardly around her desk. She stopped and smiled when she caught sight of Bill waving at her from the corner of his desk across the room. She turned and walked the few steps to pick the frame up, smiling as she saw herself staring admiringly up at her eldest brother, Fleur on his other side doing much the same.

The photo had been taken mere months after the final battle when she, Bill and Fleur had had a rather long talk. Fleur had voiced her desire to go away for a while, (she had lost a cousin and an uncle in the war), and Ginny could not agree more. The death of Percy was still a subject never broached in the Weasley household. After Harry's defeat of Voldemort things were as close to normal as ever, but still Molly Weasley had been reluctant to let her youngest child move out of the house, let alone go off to Egypt to become a Gringotts charm-breaker. But Ginny had been relentless and with encouragement and promises of her safety from Bill and Fleur, Molly had conceded.

Ginny had trained for several months, eventually moving into an apartment of her own. It was a little more than a year later that she and Bill joined the traveling team and started out on what Ginny was sure would be her greatest adventure. She had traveled to countless countries and whenever she was back at the Burrow for holidays she supposed she must have acquired that "cool" look of Bill's, because Fred and Georges' children were always asking her to recount her adventures and gazing appreciatively at her dragon hide cloak.

She thought of her family then, as she gently placed the photo back onto Bill's cluttered desk. She had been home nearly a week, but it wasn't until the second night that she noticed the candle her mother left burning in the window.

She thought of Percy then, the sinister darkness of the office only fueling her reflections. She wondered what his children might have looked like. What sort of pretentious names only he could have come up with. Her chest constricted and she sighed. She had to clear her mind, or else waste away of sleep deprivation.

She took another look at the vault chart and headed for the door. She found an empty cart and headed off in the direction of vaults that hadn't been checked in nearly 10-years, hoping she wouldn't find the remains of some poor, greedy soul.

It begins to tell 'round midnight, 'round midnight

I do pretty well till after sundown

Suppertime, I'm feeling sad

But it really gets bad 'round midnight

Memories always start 'round midnight, 'round midnight

Haven't got the heart to stand those memories

It must have been four or five hours later before she started to feel the tired ache that would ease her to sleep. Years ago, when she was first starting, she hadn't realized how taxing it could be, checking to verify charms were holding, applying new ones and weeding out the unnecessary. She had just tested the security measures on her sixth vault, (quite impressive for someone working alone, in her opinion), and was stretching, leaning so far back that her shoulders were nearly parallel with the ground when she heard it.

She stood upright at once, reaching for her wand while her senses were straining to focus on the foreign sounds. She was standing at the far end of a long corridor off one of the main vault chambers; her eyes closed lightly as she listened intently to a distant hum that sounded almost like the rustling of wings.

She jerked her head slightly to the right when she recognized it was whispering, not wings, and found the noise was coming from somewhere around the far end of the corridor. She leveled her wand in front of her and walked quietly to the where she had left her cart on the main tracks and peered around the corner.

When her eyes focused she saw two shadowed figures whispering at the other end of the long chamber. It was too dark and too quiet to make out anything of importance. She thought briefly of apparating, but knew the sound would alert them of her presence. She cast a non-verbal silencing spell on her heels and walked as quickly as she could while staying in the shadows of the wall.

She was just close enough to discern that the figures were too tall and broad to be women or goblins before one of them abruptly stopped whispering and disapparated on the spot. Before the second had time to disappear as well, she leapt from the shadows and a silent "Expelliarmus!" landed the figure several feet in front of her, sprawled on his back. Her left hand snapped up to grab the wand that was soaring towards her and before the man had time to regain his breath she was bearing down on him, her boot on his throat and both wands pointed at his face. His hood must have slipped forward when she hit him with the spell, because his forehead and eyes were hidden from view.

"What business do you have here?" she spoke in an authoritative whisper, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

The man said nothing, only struggled and brought his hands up to try and pull her foot away.

"I said," she demanded, pushing her foot just a little harder into his neck, "what business do you have here?"

He had stopped struggling, but was still unable to answer. She moved her wand down to push the hem of his hood up and gasped quietly when the rest of his head was revealed.

"Malfoy?" she asked incredulously. She pulled her foot back but still kept both wands trained on him while he rubbed his neck and slowly got to his feet.

"Well if you are so certain as to my identity, I wonder if you would not allow me my wand back so I may access my vault," he snapped, straightening his robes.

She stared at him blankly, confusion muddling her thoughts, and then smirked as she noticed the small red circle on his neck where her heel had dug into his porcelain skin. She smirked even more when he rubbed it gingerly.

He had not yet looked at her.

"Pardon me," she said in her most professional tone. "Regular banking hours resume tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. until then, I must escort you out. Only authorized employees are permitted inside at this hour."

"Excuse me?" he said incredulously, finally turning to glare at her.

She smiled sweetly as his eyes grew, the recognition and shock clearly discernable on his pale face.

"Weasley?" he gaped. "How did you get in here?" he looked wildly around. Then, "Are you robbing the place?

"No, you moron, I'm not robbing anyone. You always were top notch in the logic department, Malfoy," she replied matter-of-factly. "As it is, I am an employee at Gringotts and should very well be asking you what you are doing here, lurking about at midnight."

She folded her arms, transferred both wands to her right hand and noted how quickly he had recovered from his shock. In a moment he had returned to his previous affronted attitude.

"As the owner of one of the highest security and most prominent vaults at Gringotts, one with a private entrance, mind you, I believe I am well within my rights to be inside the bank at this hour," he snarled.

She mentally cringed at his words. How could she have forgotten about the private entrances?

"Now hand my wand over," he commanded, holding out his palm. "And be assured the proper superior will hear about this."

He smirked then and his eyes were sparkling with malevolence.

She glared at him and thrust his wand into his outstretched hand.

"It's so nice to see some people never change," she added curtly.

"What is that supposed to mean, Weasley?" he asked tersely, stowing his wand safely inside his robes.

"Some people just never grow out of being the insufferable prats I remember so well," she said, her calm voice revealing indifference instead of the rage she felt slowly building.

"Yes, and Weasley's seem to be just as I remember. Ever rude and pathetic, not to mention appalling disgraces to the wizarding world," he leered. "Only now it seems they've added attacking people from behind to that lovely list of desirable traits."

She was seething, but refused to let her facial expressions betray her. She only nodded slightly and turned as to walk away.

"How did you land a job so far above the usual Weasley standard anyway?" he asked. "Not from that scar-face brother of yours, surely?"

For a split second she thought she had passed out. It felt as though the ground had disappeared and she was free falling, her head spinning faster than a new racing broom.

Rarely did Ginny lose her temper, but when she turned back around to face him her hands were clenched so tightly her finger nails were digging into her palm and tiny red sparks were shooting from the tip of the wand she still held in her hand.

"Don't you ever speak of my brother again," she whispered quietly, punctuating each word with a jab of her wand in his face. She didn't remember when she had marched up to him. "It's your fault his face is scarred. Your fault and no one else's."

He opened his mouth to protest, or perhaps gloat about his victory, but the tip of her wand under his chin silenced him instantly.

"No, I do not care that the ministry cleared you of charges. I do not care who the anonymous person was that testified in your defense. It could have been Harry bloody Potter for all I care," she explained, glaring at him. "You are the one who let your death eater friends into the school. You are the one who let that, that, thing, Fenrir Greyback, maul him. So don't speak about things you cannot possibly understand."

She stared into his eyes for a moment more, hoping to convey her seriousness in the matter, then stepped back.

"Goodnight, Mr. Malfoy," she said, finally lowering her wand and turning. "Gringotts thanks your for your business."

She had disappeared into the darkness before he found his voice.

Haven't got the heart to stand those memories.

So, thoughts? Suggestions? Please?