A/N: Sometimes, I'll start out a chapter with a good idea, write the first bit, and things will kind of go off the rails further in. This chapter felt like kind of the opposite. I started the chapter in a completely different way, realized it wasn't working, and then had to rework it. I wasn't thrilled with some of my choices, but I got some good encouragement along the way, and the more I wrote, the more I felt better back on track. You know who you are, so thank you. The scene you want is coming, I promise! I'm sorry it's taken so long, and for those few of you who are reading both this and Servant of Death, I'm well along on the next chapter of that too.

Ginny didn't question Harry when he led her to the back exit of their building; she knew she didn't have to. She doubted he had any more desire than she did to see anyone in the crowd of people still loitering around the front walk. News had traveled quickly, and Ginny was grateful they'd been able to hear the commotion when the rest of the Arrows had left for the pub. She and Harry had peered carefully out her window and she wasn't sure which of them had been more horrified at the number of press there. She was only glad she'd finished collecting her memories first, and carefully stored them in her work bag, to be delivered, she supposed, to Gawain Robards himself on Monday.

Harry was looking tentatively at her, and Ginny wondered if he even wanted to go out to dinner at that point. But then he mumbled something rather incoherent about grabbing a bite, and she'd followed him immediately out the door of her flat.

"They're going to be at the Ministry, aren't they?" she asked suddenly. She knew she didn't have to explain where her thoughts had gone.

Harry nodded. "Probably, but they won't be able to get upstairs to the Aurors. Gawain will see to that." He ran his hand through his hair. "At least, I think he'll see to that." He had an odd look on his face when he spoke of his former boss, and Ginny looked quickly at him. But a second later, Harry's face was carefully blank. He knocked his hip against Ginny's. "You could always hex them."

Ginny groaned. "Don't tempt me. I don't know that the Aurors will be as charitable a second time. Did you know I didn't even get a reprimand?"

"I believe it," said Harry. "You'd probably have to banish Robards' clothes in the middle of a staff meeting and then make the bats fly out of his arse before you'd get in trouble. And maybe not even then."

Ginny gave him a sharp look. "Do you really think . . ." she began. Then she stopped and shook her head. "Actually, I don't think I want to know."

And she didn't want to know, she was pretty sure. It was wrong, probably; one of the things that had already been drilled into them in training was the importance of gathering as much information as possible. According to many of their instructors, Better Aurors Than Themselves had been hurt – or worse – because they'd made hasty decisions based on less than all facts available. Still, Ginny doubted that her disinclination to know exactly what her reputation was to her bosses was the kind of knowledge that could get her into serious trouble. She wasn't sure why she didn't want to know what they had planned for her, and in the back of her mind was the idea that in this case, ignorance would force the Aurors to treat her the same as all the other trainees. Asking too many questions would make her look interested in what they wanted, and having too many answers would change the way she acted and reacted. Better to stay in the dark.

Harry nodded immediately. "I wouldn't either," he said. "Answering all those questions is exhausting, even if you are best friends – or even roommates – with the questioner."

"Ron bugs you about it?" Suddenly, her brother's knowledge of Harry's activities and reasons this past year took on a new flavor. Stupid of her to have been jealous.

Harry nodded. "And Hermione," he said. "I know they mean well, and it's been useful a bunch of times having Ron's eyes on the Aurors, but . . . sometimes I appreciate not having to think about it or explain it or anything. Being with . . . someone who doesn't ask me a million questions is a relief." His mouth twisted for a second as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

Ginny was pretty sure Harry was talking about her, and her decision not to try to learn more made even more sense. Surely there would be no way to ask Harry about her own experience with the Aurors without touching on his, and he clearly did not want to talk about it. Her stomach suddenly gurgled and he smiled.

There's a Muggle pub I like; we definitely won't be recognized. I can take you side along."

Ginny put her hand on his elbow. "Lead the way," she said.

HPHPHPHP

Kerfuffle At Incantation Court

The Arsenal Arrows had more excitement than expected after returning home from their thrilling win against Wimbourne Friday evening. Knowledgable sources report that Aurors were called to diffuse an attempted break-in at Incantation Court, the posh residential building that is famously home to the entire Arrows Quidditch team, and most notably, star Seeker Harry Potter. But was there really ever any danger, or just an overreaction caused by the interference of building resident and Auror trainee, Ginny Weasley?

"It was all in good fun, or would have been, if that witch Ginny Weasley had stayed out of it," said witness Katerina Bellows. "My sister and I are intimately familiar with the safety wards on the building. We just wanted to make sure they were still operating properly, you know, as a service to the Arrows. But then Weasley had to jump in and show off, waving her wand around even though it was painfully obvious she had no idea what she was doing. Good thing for my sister the real Aurors showed up, or Nadia could have been really hurt."

"Nadia" refers to Nadia Bellows, the individual the Prophet has confirmed was trapped in a number of different wards inside Incantation Court's front lobby. According to several sources, these wards included not only the building's ordinary security, but also a number of highly dangerous spells cast by Miss Weasley herself. Given that the building's wards were originally cast by Miss Weasley's brother and Gringott's curse breaker Bill Weasley, one has to wonder if the young Auror trainee has some inside knowledge that maybe her brother's skills were not up to scratch.

The Aurors have refused to confirm whether Bill Weasley's wards failed or what spells Miss Weasley used, other than to state that "proper procedure was followed." Rumors that Harry Potter himself was spotted sorting out the mess Miss Weasley created and protecting his teammates from further damage have not been corroborated. Could he be regretting his decision to leave the Aurors in favor of a life of professional Quidditch? His numerous fans, enjoying the sight of their team atop the standings, certainly hope not.

Ginny slammed down the paper and groaned. Another article written by the anonymous "Prophet Staff" – and she was sure the lack of author was not an accident. Whoever was behind the story was a clever writer, Ginny had to give them that. In just a few short paragraphs they'd managed to cast suspicion not only about her, but also Bill, Harry and the entire Auror corps, all while making the actual perpetrators sound like the real victims. It was beyond infuriating, Ginny thought. Despite the accolades Bramley and Camilla had heaped on her yesterday, she strongly suspected that ending up in the paper twice in as many months would not sit well with her superiors. For all she knew, her meeting with them Monday morning was for the specific purpose of reminding her that she really needed to control her impulses, and that the "proper procedure" mentioned in the paper was actually for her to have immediately called for backup.

She hadn't quite realized her fuming had led her out of her flat and down the hall until she'd already knocked on the door. Harry opened it almost immediately; he was also holding a copy of the paper, and Ginny had the feeling he'd been about to come show it to her. Instead, he silently stepped back and let her enter, closing the door firmly behind her and setting the same spells he'd showed her the night before.

"Coffee?" he asked as she flopped onto the sofa. "Ron made it."

"Thanks," muttered Ginny. Ron was surprisingly good at making coffee – the Muggle way – using a coffee pot he and their dad had restored. It wasn't a misuse of Muggle artifacts, Arthur assured them, because Ron was using the coffee pot in the manner originally intended. Ginny didn't really care, she was just glad Ron brought her a thermos of it almost every morning.

She watched as Harry silently added a shot of Firewhiskey to her mug and sighed in appreciation at the first sip. She looked around. "Where is Ron?"

Harry grimaced. "He and Hermione are in the shower, and you're to welcome my own silencing charms for the fact you didn't know that." He took a sip of his own coffee, and by the amount of steam floating around his ears, Ginny suspected Harry's mug contained more than a single shot of alcohol. "He was livid about the article," he continued. "Wanted to Floo down to the Prophet immediately and demand a retraction. Fortunately, Hermione managed a distraction."

Ginny snorted. "So that's what they're calling it now?" She leaned back. "As long as he knows he can't take on the Prophet. They've already written about two Weasleys; the last thing any of us need is an article suggesting our entire family is unstable."

"Not in public at least," said Harry with a grin. Then he frowned. "Someone at the Prophet certainly has it in for you, don't they? I should have warned you that it's a consequence of associating with me."

"I'll take my chances," said Ginny. "I just hope it doesn't affect anything at training."

"It won't," said Harry, so forcefully that Ginny almost heard an unspoken not if I have anything to say about it. She looked carefully at him. "You sound quite sure."

"I am," said Harry. He sounded a little less vehement, but slightly embarrassed. Ginny waited.

"Well first off, you didn't do anything wrong. You caught someone trying to break into the building, and you stopped them. Quite brilliantly, I may add."

Ginny shrugged. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Not to you, maybe," said Harry, "but, consider how my teammates acted. Most people wouldn't have known what to do as quickly as you did."

"I am learning to be an Auror," said Ginny, with a trace of bemusement. "And a poor one I'd be if I couldn't stop a petty criminal in her tracks."

"But you could have done the same thing two or three years ago," said Harry. "Ron too, and the other DA members, probably." He chuckled. "Despite what Bramley said to the Prophet, proper procedure at this point in your training would have been a simple stunning spell and then a Patronus call for help. Your way was much more effective – and unexpected."

"I was about to send my Patronus," Ginny admitted. "But then Bramley and Camilla showed up on their own."

"Yeah, well, that's the second part of it," said Harry. He looked embarrassed again. "I had suspected, but I wasn't sure until yesterday." He ran his hand through his hair. "Apparently, when I moved into my flat, the Aurors had the wards strengthened to include an automatic call to them if certain spells were cast in or around the building. Your containment spell triggered that ward."

Ginny thought about this for a minute, warring with herself about whether to ask. "They still think you're that important, don't they?" she asked quietly. "That you need such strong protection?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "But more likely, they want to know if I'm doing higher magic. They'll take any sign they can get to think I want to come back."

"Camilla accused you of missing it," Ginny remembered. No matter how determined she was not to ask Harry too many questions, it always seemed to come back around to the Aurors. She looked carefully at Harry. "Do you? I mean," she added hastily, "you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Sorry."

Harry shrugged in understanding. "I miss the . . . idea of it. Sometimes," he said, and Ginny could tell how difficult it was for him to admit. "What I thought the Aurors would be like before . . . I mean, back when I was in school." He shook his head. "I should have known better that it wouldn't be like that. For me at least. Too soon, too much baggage." He gave Ginny a soft smile. "I think it's going to be different for you."

Ginny wasn't sure what Harry meant about too soon; did he mean he'd joined the Aurors too young? Ginny didn't think that was it; she was the same age now as he'd been. And truly, Harry hadn't even been a formal part of the program when he left for the Arrows. He'd quit before he was really hired, and if he'd stayed, Ginny realized suddenly, he would have been in the same training class as she and Ron were. She had never really thought of that before; what would that have been like? Would she and Harry have had the chance to work out their differences, or would his presence have solidified Ginny's petty jealousy at being left out once again?

For the first time, Ginny considered that Harry not joining the Aurors had been a good thing, at least as far as her relationship with him went. If she was honest with herself, she'd have to admit that if she was working with him every day, it would have been much more difficult, if not impossible, to become his friend.

But what would Robards have done, if he'd had both Harry and Ginny in the Aurors at the same time?

She frowned, thinking. Weeks ago, Robards had tried to suggest that Harry was equivalent to her entire training class. She hadn't quite believed it then, but she couldn't deny that the Aurors' interest in Harry – while not quite obsessive, was rather heavy-handed. And now, it seemed that she had somehow become an object of interest herself.

So much for blissful ignorance.

"You say that 'you think' it's going to be different for me, but you aren't sure, are you? I mean, it was pretty obvious that Bramley and Camilla have something in mind for me, something different than the other trainees. Is it just the Chamber again? Or something else?" She gave Harry a silent apology for dredging up the issue again.

He gave her another soft smile, and Ginny had the feeling he knew exactly how much she wished she didn't have to ask.

"Quidditch is easier to talk about," he murmured, and Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Much," she said. "But . . ."

"I know," said Harry quickly. He closed his eyes for a second, as if marshaling his thoughts.

"I think it's the Chamber," he said finally. "They aren't ready to give up on the idea that being possessed gives the two of us some special connection and insight that will be useful to fight Dark Magic. And everything you've done since joining the Aurors – hexing that reporter, stopping Nadia, and just generally killing it at training – only reiterates their belief."

Harry spoke frankly about being possessed, and Ginny found it comforting, as if he were merely remarking on the fact that they had both had the same meal for breakfast. It was a far cry from their fight at Grimmauld Place her Fourth Year, but Ginny didn't say so. They'd both already apologized for their misunderstandings and behavior then, and there was no need to go over it again.

She sighed. She still hadn't given her 'talk' to the other trainees about her experience, and it occurred to her she was going to be careful about what she said. If Robards and the others were looking for evidence that her experience had given her some special power over dark magic, they'd probably be analyzing every word she said. Which meant she probably needed to ask Harry what kind of topics she should avoid. If he knew.

"We should probably get Ron in on this," she said finally. She glanced back at the hallway. Harry's charm must have been really strong; Ginny had no idea if her brother and Hermione were still in the shower or had finished and gone back to Ron's bedroom. And while she didn't really want to find out, Ron knew things about the Chamber that Harry didn't. She said as much, and Harry gave her an odd look.

"They're back in Ron's room," he said slowly. He pointed at a soft blue glow Ginny hadn't noticed, hovering around the hallway that led to the back of the flat. "I added wards to let me know when it's safe to use the loo."

"Smart," said Ginny. "So, do you think we can ask him to come out and talk? I have a feeling I'm going to be asked to talk about what happened my first year pretty soon."

Harry was quiet for so long that Ginny thought at first he hadn't heard her. She put her hand on his arm. "Harry?"

He shook himself as if coming out of far away thoughts. "We don't need to get Ron," he said quietly. "I can tell you everything you need to know."

"I don't understand," said Ginny. Nevertheless, she got up when Harry did and followed him down the hallway.

"I know," said Harry. He looked at her. "Just so you know, Ron's been wanting me to tell you for a while now. And he's been more insistent since you said you were joining the Aurors. Maybe a little before that. It's not his fault."

"What's not his fault?" They were in Harry's room now, and he shut his door and started warding it with spells that Ginny suspected were at least as strong as whatever he'd done for Ron and Hermione. Harry's face was in a tight line. Not angry, exactly, but maybe stressed, if Ginny had to put a name to it. She really didn't know most of Harry's expressions that well, but she knew something was off. She asked again.

"What's not his fault? The Chamber wasn't anyone's fault, except Tom Riddle's."

Harry glanced at her, his mouth relaxing slightly. "How long did it take you to be able to say that?" he asked gently. He gestured Ginny to sit down on the bed, while he walked over to his window.

"A long time," Ginny admitted. "And sometimes I still . . . well, sometimes I don't remember as well as others."

Harry nodded. "I feel the same way about Sirius," he said. He left it at that, and Ginny felt a surge of understanding.

"It gets tiring, doesn't it? Hearing how many times that something wasn't your fault?" she asked. "I mean, I know it really wasn't, but . . ."

"But sometimes hearing someone else try to tell you how much you shouldn't feel blame just has the opposite effect," he finished.

"Because it means they're still thinking about it too," said Ginny, watching Harry give a quick nod. "If they really weren't thinking it was your fault, it wouldn't even be in their mind to say anything."

"Exactly," said Harry. The bed shifted, and Ginny realized that Harry had brought over his Pensieve and a vial of memories. "But this – what I'm going to show you – is different. It's . . . well, I hope it's not upsetting. Or, too upsetting. It's the Chamber, so I know it won't be fun to look at, of course." Harry spoke in a rush, as if more than eager to get all the words out.

Ginny frowned. "The Chamber?" she asked, gently touching the crystal bottle. "Are these Ron's memories?" She'd never really wanted to know too much about what had happened during the time she was unconscious. By the time she'd woken up, Harry had made it there too, and there was blood everywhere, on the dead Basilisk and all three of them, and Fawkes was about to about to pull them back up the tunnel. She had answered Dumbledore's questions about what she'd been doing all year with the diary and then what Riddle had said to her when he finally came out of it, and then she'd clammed up, refusing to look any further in the dusky memories and thoughts that went further than that. Ron had been nicer to her all summer and the rest of the family had fawned all over him until their dad had won the Ministry's draw and they'd all gone to visit Bill in Egypt. By the start of school, things were mostly back to normal and they'd all met up with Harry at the Leaky Cauldron and he and Ron had ignored her again.

Ginny rubbed her hand over her face. "I knew, when I joined the Aurors, that I'd have to talk about the Chamber again," she said. "I figured that it was so long ago, it wouldn't be a big deal." She sighed. "It's weirder to think about again than I thought it would be."

"And about to get . . . I don't know if weird is the right word," said Harry quietly. He tipped the vial into the basin. "But it's going to be unexpected. I thought it was the right thing, at the time." He grabbed her hand. "Promise me something?"

Ginny was still confused, but the look in Harry's eyes was earnest. She nodded. "Of course."

Harry took a deep breath. "Promise me that, when you find out what . . . you're going to find out, that you'll listen to my reasons, and not get mad? I was really young," he said, and his voice was a little pleading.

Ginny put her hand on Harry's arm. "Is it really bad?" she asked. Crazy thoughts, probably fueled by all the wild rumors she'd heard over the years, flew through her head. They'd said Harry was the true heir of Slytherin. He could talk to snakes because he was part snake. He and Tom Riddle had done . . . things together. Things no one could know.

That last story had been so ridiculous that Ginny would have hexed the witch who shared it if Bill hadn't been with her in Diagon Alley and done it himself. Harry was shaking his head as if he knew what she was thinking.

"No," he said. "Nothing like that. It's more . . ." he stopped, looking uncomfortable. "Just, don't be mad, at least, not right away, okay? I promise, there was a good reason."

"Okay, I promise," said Ginny. She still had no idea what Harry was talking about, had something happened with him and Lockhart while they were trapped in the tunnel? What would that have to do with her? Listening to him worry about it wasn't making anything clearer. She bent her head towards the bowl. "Are you coming with me?"

"Do you want me to? Maybe it's not a good idea if I'm there." Ginny couldn't tell from Harry's voice what he really wanted to do. She grabbed his hand.

"I don't think I want to see it alone," she said.

Harry nodded jerkily. "Okay then," he said. They both leaned towards the bowl.

HPHPHPHPHP

When they emerged, Ginny's confusion was mixed with the horror she'd felt seeing the Chamber again. She shook her head.

"I . . . I don't remember, I mean, I didn't remember. I thought . . . I only remembered Fawkes and the tunnel." She didn't think she was making total sense, but she knew it didn't matter. Harry nodded.

"You actually woke up as soon as I stabbed the diary," he said quietly. He swallowed. "The Basilisk had already bitten me, and you said . . ."

"I said I was so sorry, and that I didn't know what to do," she said. Even before she'd heard herself say those words in the Pensieve, Ginny had begun to remember. "I said it was all my fault that Riddle had hurt you." She frowned. "But . . . wasn't it Ron? Why didn't I remember that it . . . it was you?" She had been shocked when she finally understood what she was seeing, that it had been Ron trapped behind the rock wall and Harry talking to Tom Riddle and battling the serpent and finally saving her life by killing the soul bit in the diary. Ginny had watched herself wake up and suddenly recalled talking to Harry as he gasped and panted through the pain of the poison traveling up his arm. And then Fawkes had come and what Ginny watched converged with what she'd always thought was true.

"Why did you tell me it was Ron?" she asked. For she remembered that clearly. Sitting in Dumbledore's office, trying to explain through hysterical tears just what she'd been doing all year, facing her family's shock and disappointment, Ginny remembered vividly that Harry had told them how he'd been trapped with Lockhart while Ron had made it through to the Chamber to save his little sister. It was the stuff of family legend, so engrained in everyone's mind that it had caused Ginny to forget that she knew the truth. And now, Harry was saying it hadn't happened? She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Harry looked uncomfortable. "It's not Ron's fault," he said. "He wanted to tell you earlier."

Ginny nodded with a touch of impatience. "You said that already." Harry was rocking a bit, sitting on the bed, and Ginny suddenly remembered more.

"Percy yelled at Ron, didn't he? About not watching out for me. And Bill was there, and he said he was disappointed in both of us." She looked directly at Harry. "And so you . . .?"

Harry nodded. "I told everyone that Ron was the one who saved you." He shrugged. "It didn't really matter to me."

Unspoken, Ginny knew, was that being named the hero would really have mattered to Ron. At one time, she would have thought it selfish of him, accepting praise and glory for something he didn't do. But she knew her brother a lot better now. "He never made that big of a deal about it, after that first summer," she said.

Harry nodded. "It was an impulsive decision on my part," he said. "I was happy to let Ron take the credit; it didn't occur to me that it would be harder for him." Harry shrugged. "At first, he mostly dealt with it by trying to never talk about it. But when we were on the Horcrux hunt, after he . . . well, after he got the Sword of Gryffindor and destroyed the locket, he wanted to tell you the truth. And your family. I told him he didn't need to, that we could just let it go, but he's been getting more insistent."

Ginny could see all of this. The same impulse that had recently led Harry to give Ron free board in his flat, and do his own laundry, and not care about the attention he got as the destroyer of Voldemort or from being an Arrow, had caused him, at twelve years old, to give Ron more credit for her rescue. It had deflected blame away from Ron, and deflected attention away from Harry. It was not surprising at all.

"Ron didn't . . . it was sometimes hard for him. Being the youngest boy," said Harry, and another piece fell into place for Ginny.

"It wasn't just because they were blaming him then. Why you said he rescued me." Of course.

Harry shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn't really understand families." He twisted a bit of blanket. "Are you mad?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not at all." She put her hand on Harry's chin and lifted it to look right at him. He shivered a bit. "I'm not going to hex you," she said, amused.

"I know. It's not . . . I mean, it's just . . . I know," he stuttered. Ginny chuckled. "Then let me talk."

Harry nodded.

"I'm not mad, not at all," said Ginny. "Or annoyed, or irritated, or jealous that Ron knew, or whatever I might have felt or thought at one time. I get it." She grimaced. "And I have to be quite an arse to still be upset about a decision you made so long ago."

"I could have told you earlier," Harry said.

"True," said Ginny. "And I probably wouldn't have bothered to listen and understand, and yeah, I might have hexed you instead. I get why you waited."

Harry let out a breath. "Okay then," he said. "Okay. Ron will be relieved. We still have to tell your family, but hopefully they'll understand."

"I'll make sure they do," said Ginny. She grabbed her wand and rolled it in her hands with what she hoped was a menacing manner.

Harry barked a laugh. "That look might work on the fan-witches but I'm not so sure your family is going to be intimidated." He sighed. "We'll figure it out."

Ginny nodded. Almost involuntarily, she looked over to the window sill, where several crystal vials still sat.

Harry followed her gaze. "I'm pants at Occlumency. There are things I don't want people to be able to find out from me. Things from . . . before."

Ginny nodded. "Are they . . .?" she began. She stopped. "Actually, it's none of my business."

Harry didn't seem to hear her. He was still looking at the vials. Not yet, she could have sworn she heard him say under his breath. He suddenly shook his head as if clearing it and looked back at her. "They're mostly silly things, really."

Ginny doubted that, but she let it go. "D'you think Ron and Hermione . . ." she started to say, just as Harry said, "Let me know what happens on . . ." They both stopped, gesturing each other to go first.

"I just wanted to know if you'd tell me what Robards says to you on Monday, if you don't mind," said Harry.

Ginny nodded. "Of course, but hopefully it will be nothing."

"I hope so too," said Harry. He stood up and picked up the Pensieve. "And yes, I think it's probably safe to leave the room. Give me a second and I'll show you how to take down the wards."

Ginny got up too, and yawned. "I already need a nap," she said. "That delivery owl woke me up way too early." She touched Harry's arm. "Meet for a run later?"

Harry nodded. "I'd like that, yes." He pulled open the door to his room and they immediately heard Ron and Hermione's voices. Harry listened intently for a moment. "Ron seems to have gotten over his desire to hex the entire Prophet," he said. He looked at Ginny. "Do you want to wait until later to tell him you know about the Chamber?"

Ginny nodded. "I'll make you all dinner, how about that?"

Harry chuckled. "Did your mum drop off more food then?"

Ginny swatted at him. "Prat." She gave him a sheepish look. "Yes."

Harry grinned. "Well then, I'll be over around 6."