With the Arrows on the road, the apartment building was much quieter the following day, which meant Ginny was able to get the remainder of her things unpacked. It was also quiet the day after that, and she hung all her pictures and baked some cookies. It was quiet on the third day too, and Ginny walked down the hall with the cookies to see if Ron and Hermione were there and wanted to join her for supper.
They were, and they did, and the three of them sat companionably around the kitchen table. Ginny examined the flat; she'd only been there a handful of times since Ron had moved in, and never without Harry there. The sofa and wireless looked brand new; the former adorned at either end with matching Gryffindor blankets – her mum's standard "finishing Hogwarts" gift. Ginny had unpacked her own just that morning. Quidditch posters from the Cannons and Arrows competed for wall space, separated, Ginny was surprised to see, by one of newest Harpies team. She surreptitiously eyed the third Chaser, who appeared, in Ginny's opinion, just a wee bit wobbly on her broom and then almost choked on her pumpkin juice when an enormous photo suddenly winked into existence above the mantle. It was Harry's individual Arrow's photo – Ginny had seen enough of them clutched in eager hands outside – and as she watched, the image gave an embarrassed smile, looked off to the left as if listening to something, and then turned forward again with a cocky wink.
"You actually let him put that up?" she asked her brother. She glanced at the Harpies poster, which suddenly seemed less a show of support and more something to ogle. I'd never quite thought Harry would . . .
"Dam put it up. Temporary sticking charm." Ron waved his wand and the photo disappeared again. "Apparently they do it for all new team members." He shrugged. "It's supposed to keep track of how many women Harry brings back here his first year on the team."
"And how many . . ." Ginny began. She held up her hand. "Actually, don't tell me. I really don't want to know."
"None," Ron said anyway. "At least, not yet. Dam was disappointed, but Harry said he just has higher standards." Ron smirked. "That earned him yet another threat about what's going to happen to him during his hazing night."
Hermione laughed. "Harry needs to learn to keep his mouth shut, at least until after then. Every time he says something they add another drink to his tally."
Ginny groaned. "And I'm apparently minding him afterwards. She looked at Hermione. "Can I hide out at your flat that night?"
"Sure, if you want to," Hermione said, looking up when Ron nudged her.
"If Ginny's there, then we have to be here. Where Harry's going to end up," he said pointedly.
"Ooops," said Hermione. She gave Ginny an apologetic look. "Sorry, Ginny."
Ginny sighed. "Worth a try, I guess." She got up from the table and walked over to the bookshelf. "What are all these things? There were several delicate silver instruments, a small, smudged mirror, and what looked like a fancy Remembrall mounted in a gilt stand.
"Dark detectors and other magical instruments and things," said Ron around a mouthful of pie. "Mostly Harry's, although the Deluminator is mine." He pointed at the slim silver object that Ginny knew he'd gotten from Dumbledore.
Ginny walked closer. "Where did he get all of them?" Some were moving slightly and making humming noises; they all looked rather powerful and mysterious.
Ron shrugged. "Some from Dumbledore, some from work he did this past year, helping Kingsley at the Ministry, some from I don't know where. Said he felt better with them out here, near the front door." He shook his head. "He doesn't say much about it, what he was doing all those months after the war."
"You don't know? I thought you were working there too." Ginny stared at her brother. He and Harry had been living at the Burrow until this past June, going back and forth between the Ministry and Hogwarts, helping to rebuild wherever they were needed. It was an unspoken assumption that both Ron and Harry would be joining the Aurors as soon as the department was reorganized. Ron shook his head.
"He was helping us, but Harry also spent a lot of time off on his own doing things for Kingsley and Gawain Robards, looking for escaped Death Eaters and things. He was always running in and out of meetings and then off to who-knows-where. I'm not sure. He always looked exhausted though."
This was news to Ginny. "He always seemed fine when I saw him." True, the immediate days after Harry had killed Voldemort with another rebounding curse had been tiring and difficult for everyone. Remus and Tonks' funeral had been especially brutal, and Fred's recovery from being nearly crushed by the wall had taken all that first summer; everyone had gathered more often at the Burrow while he was laid up. Ginny's recollection of Harry during that time and over her holiday breaks from Hogwarts was that he'd been about the same as always – joining in the teasing from her brothers, running off with Ron and Hermione every chance they got, helping her mum with the cooking.
She frowned. Had he been quieter than normal? She tried to remember how he'd reacted when she'd told her family she was joining the Aurors over Easter break and realized she wasn't even sure he'd been at the Burrow that day. Everyone else had had a lot to say about it, and it had taken quite a bit of convincing – coupled with some in-person demonstrations using Ron as a partner – for her family to understand how serious she was. But she didn't recall Harry teasing her, not once. He actually hadn't said anything about it at all.
Two weeks later, she'd read on the cover of Quidditch Today that Harry had been named the new starting Seeker for the Arsenal Arrows, one of the strongest teams in the league. He had replaced Dearborne Prescott, the team's only female starter, after she had gotten married and then pregnant in short order after the previous season. He'd moved out of the Burrow within a month, and the next time she'd seen him, he'd laughed harder than anyone when Fred and George used her as an unwitting guinea pig for a new prank. The nine newts running in circles around her legs were only supposed to last for ten minutes, preventing her from moving very far while they sang to the room about how smart she was. But then Harry joked they would be an effective way of keeping Ginny from getting close to a bloke, and Fred had said a spell, and the damn animals didn't leave her alone for another two hours. Harry had called her 'Newt' the entire day, until she'd finally retorted that not everyone could be a hot-shot Quidditch star . She'd shot a spell at the Arrow's poster her mum had just hung in the kitchen, so that Harry's image was suddenly flying in and out of the frame wearing nothing but a pair of bright pink underwear. He'd gone back to calling her Ginny after that, but she hadn't lifted the spell until the end of the day.
"I bet it's nice getting attention for something other than killing Voldemort for once." Hermione's voice broke into Ginny's thoughts, and Ginny realized she'd been staring at one of the Arrows posters for some time." She turned around, intending to make the admittedly snarky response that she bet Harry was probably happy with any kind of attention. But something made her bite back the comment.
"Yeah, I guess," she said. Her brother and Hermione were Harry's best friends; they would know him best. After all, they'd spent a year with him on the run, chasing Horcruxes and years before that getting in all manner of trouble as he's dealt with seemingly yearly attacks on his life. Harry had even been with Ron when he'd rescued her from Tom Riddle and the Basilisk in the Chamber. After that, Ron and Harry went from best mates to being practically inseparable, as least as far as Ginny was concerned. They hadn't pulled back from hanging out with Hermione, it was true, but Ginny felt like she'd barely spent any time with Ron, after that.
But now they were going to be Auror trainees together. Ginny had no illusions that things would go back to the way it had been when they were kids, but she was happy to spend more time with her brother. She looked again at the shelf of dark detectors. Did any of them hold the reason behind Harry's decision? Ginny wasn't sure what most of the were. She shivered suddenly.
"I'm going to the loo, be right back," she said, not waiting for an answer.
At the end of the short hallway, the door to Harry's room stood half open. Ginny paused for a second – she knew it was wrong – and then carefully sidled inside.
Harry's room was disconcertingly neat, belying the years of messes and smells she'd seen strewn across the boys' dormitory and Ron's room at the Burrow. Everything looked new and barely used, even though Ginny knew Harry had lived in the flat for over two months already. The bed was carefully made with fresh linens, his old Firebolt gleamed in a corner as if he'd just polished it the day before. The closet door was closed and not a scrap of clothing or other debris littered the floor. It felt like anyone might have lived there.
She caught sight of his old Hogwarts trunk under the window and smiled at the familiar object. Above it on the wide sill she recognized an elaborate Pensieve flanked by several crystal bottles. Without really thinking about it, Ginny took a step forward, and then another. Her hand was reaching out to pick one up before she realized what she was doing and snatched her arm back. Snooping in Harry's room was one thing; looking into his memories was quite another.
As she was backing towards the door, Ginny's eye landed on the photos on Harry's bedside table. One was familiar to her – his parents, dancing and spinning and grinning up at him, a tiny black-haired baby cradled between them. The other photo was of her family.
Ginny picked it up. She'd never seen it before, but she remembered when it had been taken, just the past Christmas. Everyone was wearing a brand new Weasley sweater and pushing and shoving good naturedly as Molly tried to get them all to face front. Harry was in the photo too, throwing his arm enthusiastically around Ginny over and over again, squeezing her to him in what she remembered was an attempt to throw her off-balance. Her mum had another version of the photo at home; in that one Ron, Ron came up on her other side and together, he and Harry squeezed Ginny completely out of the picture. She had retaliated with several well-placed Bat Bogey Hexes and the photo session had abruptly ended. Ginny wondered why her mum didn't display this photo instead; it was clearly a better shot.
"Ginny? You okay in there?" Ron's voice was magically magnified out in the hallway
Grateful Ron and Hermione couldn't see her, Ginny quickly darted out of Harry's room and into the loo to flush the toilet noisily before returning to the sitting room.
Her subterfuge was wasted; neither of them even looked at her.
"It shouldn't be a late night, we both need to be at the Ministry early tomorrow. It's our first day of training after all." Ginny could hear the deliberate casualness in Ron's voice. She snorted.
"I've known you my entire life, Ron, and you've never cared about being on time for anything except a meal. If you want me out of here so you can have sex with your girlfriend, you just need to say so. I'm not a child." Ginny flashed a silent apology to Hermione for her bluntness. The other witch merely shrugged, looking amused. She had often been a patient listener to Ginny's rants about her brothers, and Hermione's status as Ron's girlfriend hadn't changed anything.
Ron flushed. "I don't know what you mean. It's true, we have to get up early tomorrow."
Ginny rolled her eyes, but decided to let him off the hook. "You're right," she said. "A good night sleep is what we both need." She flashed her brother a sly smile. "Make sure you don't stay . . . up . . . too late," she said.
Ignoring his sputtering, Ginny left for her own flat.
HPHPHPHPHP
Ginny had been to the Ministry dozens of times. She had loved to visit her father when she was a child, not realizing until much later that his tiny, out-of-the-way office was not the most spectacular one in the world. The previous year, she had come with other Hogwarts classmates for memorial services and other events to commemorate and remember those who had fought in the war. And there had been the nearly disastrous after-hours trip at the end of her fourth year, of course. Harry and Ron had almost forbidden her from joining; she still remembered the identically mulish looks on both their faces when she had appeared in the Great Hall with Luna. But in the end, they couldn't very well prevent only her from coming along.
It was a wonder that only Sirius had been killed that night. Ginny herself had almost fallen victim to Voldemort's power during her first year; she should have recognized he was the one behind the entire scheme, especially because she knew Voldemort had been fucking in Harry's head that entire year. Her ire with him for forgetting the Chamber and his annoyance with her for taking over as Seeker when Umbridge had banned him was no excuse; she should have seen it ahead of time. Instead, she had physically healed over the summer and then put the memories of that night in the same compartment in her brain the dealt with her memories of Tom Riddle, that place that was the driving force behind her decision to join the Aurors.
Until now, though, there had always been other who were stronger, more experienced, and more powerful there to help her - Ron and Harry in the Chamber, the Order at the Ministry and Hogwarts, even her mum. Now Ginny had taken the first step towards being the one at the front of the fight, it felt completely different. No wonder this trip to the Ministry felt different. In a few short minutes, she'd be working here.
Next to her, Ron was similarly quiet as they checked in at the visitors' entrance for likely the last time, took their temporary name badges, and caught a crowded elevator to level two. Ginny kept looking around, expecting to see her father or at least another familiar face among the hundreds hurrying along the corridors. They were all strangers though, and to her eyes, no one looked very happy. Ginny suddenly felt very young.
"Ron, Ginny! Wait up!" Ginny turned around and saw the lively voice resolve itself into the familiar face of Parvati Patil, hurrying up the corridor toward them, followed closely by Ernie McMillan, a Hufflepuff she knew Ron and Harry considered rather pompous, but a decent bloke. She relaxed.
"Hi Parvati, Ernie," said Ron. "Joining the Aurors too?"
Parvati nodded and Ernie puffed out his chest importantly; Ginny bit back a laugh at the similarities to Percy.
"They knew to ask all us former DA members, didn't they? And we proved ourselves at the Battle of Hogwarts. I think a number of us joined up." He leaned in. "Pity about Harry though, isn't it? I heard he had a nervous breakdown and they rescinded his offer. It's a surprise the Arrows took him."
Ginny felt Ron stiffen next to her. "That's absolutely not true," she said hotly. "Where the hell did you hear such rubbish? Harry spent the entire last year working his arse off for the Ministry, is it any wonder that he'd want to do something a little less dangerous for a little while?" She gripped her wand tightly; it would not do to hex one of her fellow trainees on the very first day. Ron put his hand on her arm.
"Thanks, Gin," he muttered before turning to Ernie. "Harry made the decision himself not to join the Aurors," he said firmly. "And anything else you might hear is a lie, understand?" Ron's face was as serious as Ginny had ever seen, and she had the feeling he knew more than he was letting on.
After a minute, Ernie nodded. "Sorry, Ron. I . . . didn't realize. I must have heard the wrong information." He shuffled his feet. "See you in training . . . I'm um, I have to use the loo." He turned and hurried off. Ron looked at Parvati.
"And what have you heard?" he demanded.
Parvati shrugged. "Just that Harry joined a team of the hottest Quidditch players in all of Britain, can you blame him?" she said blithely. "Maybe you can help me get tickets to a match? That Kipling Cross is especially dreamy."
Ginny didn't bother telling Parvati that Kipling would not be interested in someone with her anatomy, she was too busy watching her brother out of the corner of her eye. Ron relaxed and nodded. "Sure thing, Parvati, just let me know." As soon as the other witch had walked into the training classroom, Ron turned to Ginny.
"It really was Harry's decision not to join the Aurors, okay?" His face remained serious. Ginny nodded.
"Okay," she agreed. "But there has to be a reason why Ernie thinks otherwise." She crossed her arms. "You might as well tell me before I find out some other way; at least we can have our stories straight."
Ron sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Like I told you last night, Harry worked twice as hard as the rest of us all last year. Some of it was pretty secret, and I think he was on his own a lot. He . . . he got really burnt out."
Ginny nodded; she had guessed as much. "But no nervous breakdown, right?"
"Right," said Ron. "Nothing like that. But the Ministry was pushing him hard to join; they even offered to let him skip training. I think there may have been some raised voices and no silencing charms, while a couple of discussions were going on." He shrugged. "And then the Daily Prophet got wind of things and, you know how they are. Luckily it mostly went away when he joined the Arrows."
"So this all happened right after Easter?" Ginny didn't read the Prophet religiously like Hermione did, but she would have expected to hear something about Harry supposedly having a nervous breakdown. But the weeks after Easter had been particularly brutal for Newt studies, and Ginny had barely left the library. "Did Hermione know? She didn't say anything."
Ron nodded. "She knew; we both decided not to talk about it with anyone, other than to deny the rumors."
Of course her brother and Hermione would know, and would protect Harry. The three of them were a tight little trio, even now. Ginny shook off her jealousy; it never did her any good. She nodded. "Then I will too," she said.
HPHPHPHPHP
The following week was both fascinating and terrifying. In the back of her mind, Ginny had assumed that learning to be an Auror would be rather like a DADA class. Despite the inconsistency of instruction, DADA at Hogwarts generally covered a single topic at a time, whether it be dangerous creatures, dark spells, or general defense, before moving on to the next, interspersed with carefully monitored practical lessons. In contrast, from the very first day Auror training felt like an assault. Ginny and Ron and the ten other trainees were inundated with information that they were expected to not only absorb, but put immediately into action; it wasn't uncommon to be shown a defensive spell only once before being paired up to practice on each other. And the curriculum went well beyond the defensive lessons taught at Hogwarts. Ginny and the other DA members had spent a considerable amount of time learning to shield and dodge dangerous spells; now they were expected to take the offense just as often, and the Ministry's health matron soon knew nearly all the trainees on a first-name basis.
The information they learned about Dark Magic and how to identify and capture those who practiced it was also quite beyond anything Ginny had learned. For the first time, she heard the details about Muggle killings, dangerous blood rituals, curses that caused horrible – and irreversible damage. Any illusion she may have harbored that the "big three" Unforgivable curses were the worst of it was rapidly extinguished, and Ginny spent the night after her second day of training sleeping with every lamp in her flat lit, the room glowing with wards every color of the rainbow, lest a Dark Wizard had cursed the very air to suffocate her once the lights went out.
It wasn't until Friday that Harry's name came up again. After four days of learning with almost no rest, on Friday, the trainees were given an entire hour for lunch after a punishing morning learning how to recognize dark magic by the most subtle shifts in the surrounding energy. An enormous tray of sandwiches and sweets awaited them in the break room, and after getting something to eat, all twelve of them collapsed nearly as one.
Ginny was talking Quidditch with Angelina Johnson and Ron was joking with Lee Jordan about a witch Fred had brought home the other night when Terry Boot came and sat down in their midst. So far, the seven former members of the DA had been generally able to hold their own in classes despite being mostly younger than the other five trainees. But just that morning, Terry had answered a question incorrectly in front of the class, and Ginny could tell that the former Ravenclaw was still stewing about it.
"How the hell was I supposed to know that being near a cursed object can actually change your personality, even if you don't touch it? It's not like there were so many cursed textbooks and candlesticks floating around at Hogwarts!" He took an angry bite of his sandwich.
Ron and Ginny exchanged a glance.
"I was cursed by a diary my first year at Hogwarts," said Ginny quietly. It wasn't something she particularly wanted to talk about, but one of her fellow trainees might be called on to save her life one day, and she didn't want to hold back any knowledge that might help.
"Yeah, and I was almost killed by a poisoned bottle of mead," added Ron. "Also at Hogwarts."
Terry waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, but the two of you were always tangled up with Potter, what did you expect? I mean, sure, he taught us some good stuff in the DA, but I heard he went round the bend after that; I'm not sure I trust anything I learned from him." He looked around. "Hey McMillan, weren't you the one who told me Harry Potter was too unstable to become an Auror? Guess all those years running after Voldemort instead of running away from him finally knocked him barmy."
Later on, Ginny allowed that maybe she shouldn't have called Terry a "cockless prat" in quite such a loud voice, as the name stuck until the day Boot left the training program five weeks later. But she refused to take the blame for his leaving in the first place, really it was his attitude towards battling dark magic – run away, don't face head on – that likely did him in.
At the time however, the shocked silence and then shouts of laughter at Ginny's outburst did the trick. The subject of Harry Potter and why he wasn't an Auror was dropped; Ginny hoped for good.
Outside the Ministry that evening, Ron gave Ginny a hurried goodbye and half a hug before Apparating away to Hermione's. Ginny wasn't upset; the first week of training had felt like a month and she wanted nothing more than to collapse in her flat with some cheap takeaway and wine and spend the weekend sleeping, reading in bubble baths, and not thinking about all the evil she had apparently signed up to help fight.
Ginny was so looking forward to her night in that she didn't even bother to scowl at the folding chairs lining the walk up to her building or the witches sitting in them. Her flat was quiet, her dinner delicious, and the trashy novel she'd picked up was distracting enough that the hours flew by until Ginny finally waved her wand tiredly at the lamps and curled up to sleep just before 1 a.m., fully intending not to get out of bed until some time the next afternoon.
It was not even eight the next morning when the appearance of all those new folding chairs and witches outside suddenly made sense. The raucous shouting was bad enough, but a few well-placed wards muted them. But when Ginny's entire flat began to shake as if someone was hitting a Bludger against the wall, she lurched out of bed and flung open her door to discover that, in fact, someone was hitting a Bludger against the wall.
Actually, it was two Bludgers, hit by the twin Arrows' Beaters, who were running up and down the hall dodging the three Chasers as they weaved in and out, throwing a Quaffle back and forth. They must have enchanted the balls because none of them seemed to fly terribly fast, but damn, they made a lot of noise. Dam was leaning casually against the wall opposite, critiquing the players' technique, and Harry floated up near the ceiling – yes, floated in a cheap folding chair he must have snagged from outside, lazily tracking a Snitch as it bobbed and dipped. The chair turned and he caught sight of her.
"Hey Gin," he waved down. "We're back. Did you have a good week?" His voice mimicked the studied innocent tone, first perfected by Fred and George, that suggested Harry was quite aware that his friendly query would not be well-received.
"Didn't you all play enough fucking Quidditch already? Do you know what the fuck time it is?" Ginny was not in the mood to mince words.
"And hello to you too, Miss Weasley," Dam drawled from his spot across the hall. "Nice to see . . . . so much of you this morning."
Ginny cursed when she realized what she was wearing – a worn out and nearly see-through t-shirt and tiny ruffled sleep-shorts – but she refused to give Dam or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing her cross her arms or blush. They certainly could see that the red in her cheeks was from anger, not embarrassment. She gripped her wand, trying to figure out what hex might be most effective, when Harry spoke again.
"Ehh, Ginny always dresses like that when she's home. All those brothers, you know? She's not into all that girly stuff." He gave her a cocky grin before rotating his chair slowly upside down and then right way up again. "Cool move, huh?" No more falling off my broom if someone tries to hex me in the air." He gave her an expectant look, obviously waiting for praise for his stunt.
Ginny was having none of it. "I was asleep," she seethed. "And I bet the other tenants on this hall were too, before you arses mistook it for a pitch." She put her hands on her hips. "Some of us have jobs that actually require us to think in order to stay alive."
Harry lowered his chair to the ground. "Sorry, Ginny," he said. "Was your first week that tough?"
"Yeah," added Chaser Wilder Rich. "Did you capture a bunch of dark wizards already?"
"Fuck you," she said to the general group. "It's too early for this."
Dam shrugged. No other flats on this floor other than ours and yours," he pointed out. "Ron's gone, and I guess I assumed you might have found somewhere less . . . solitary to sleep last night." He raised his eyebrows. "Not that I'm complaining to find out you were alone, of course. Maybe we can do something to remedy that soon."
"Duck!" Harry yelled and tackled his captain at the same time, and Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex flew harmlessly over their heads and hit the wall. The two men sat up, groaning and rubbing sore elbows and knees. Harry gave her an annoyed look. "Ginny, please don't hex the captain of the Arrows; we don't have a backup Keeper right now. He's not one of your brothers or just some bloke who pinched your arse."
"Not yet," said Ginny darkly. Dam gave her an appraising look.
"I like this one, she's feisty." He turned to Harry. "You'll have to give me the inside scoop on Miss Weasley, Potter. How long have you two known each other?"
"Too long," said Ginny, just as Harry answered, "seven years." He rolled his eyes at her and she shrugged.
"And he won't tell you anything, will you, Harry?" Ginny rolled her wand in between her fingers.
Harry shook his head and Dam just laughed. "Ahh, get him drunk enough tonight and I'm sure he'll talk plenty. Would you like to join us in hazing Harry tonight, Miss Weasley? That way you can keep an eye on him yourself."
Ginny shook her head. "I have plans," she said, not mentioning that those plans involved another robe-ripping wizard romance novel. "You'll have to have your fun without me."
"We'll try, but I'm sure it won't be the same," smirked Dam. "And we'll try not to make too much noise when we get back. "Harry's reflexes aren't going to be quick enough to save me again." He looked around at the rest of the team. "Okay, you heard the lady, let's take this outside so she can get her beauty sleep, not that she needs it."
Harry folded up the chair and hoisted it onto his shoulder. "Sorry about that," he said. "He can be a little much, but he's a good bloke and always has our backs."
Ginny shrugged. "All those brothers, remember, Harry? I can take care of myself."
Harry looked like he was about to say something and then closed his mouth. "Right," he finally said. "Okay." He looked down the hall to where his teammates were just disappearing into a stairwell. "I guess I'll see you later, then."
Ginny nodded. "See you later."