I Own Nothing! :) Question from CrazyDyslexicNerd.

"Well Mr Potter I-"

"Wait…Poppy, could I quickly ask Harry a question? It's about the Chamber of Secrets, and my Ginny." Suddenly looking solemn again, Poppy gently agreed and stepped back. Standing up slowly, Arthur looked torn. "Harry…I know you gave us the watered down version in Dum-McGonagall's office, and I never questioned it because eventually I thought my little girl would talk to me about it…But she hasn't. She doesn't talk, and I need to understand why Harry. It's hard to know that your little girl is in pain and you don't even know the reason why. It happened years ago, but when he came back it had its lasting effects, now I don't know how to help her. And don't be a martyr kids, you all have your own problems too. But if I'm going to help her I need to know….And I want to know everything."

Harry felt constricted, upset. He'd never considered the possibility that one of them would ask something about his brushes with Voldemort. After the final battle many walked on egg shells around him, the few exceptions being in this room. He also felt guilty, guilty for not noticing Ginny's problems over his own grief.

Harry began to wonder how much of his friends were in pain as he himself was slowly consumed. He didn't particularly want to relive his adventures, he wanted to move on, forget about that. Then as he looked into the pleading eyes of his makeshift family he paused, and slowly nodded.

This time he stayed seated, with Ron next to him, and the cat Hermione on his left. He briefly considered turning her back, but dismissed the thought as she would probably try to scratch his eyes out. Instead he decided to start scratching behind the lion cub's ears and chuckled slightly as she purred again.

Casting his mind back, he tried to remember what he could of the chamber. As he spoke his voice seemed detached and had an air of vulnerability to it. Molly started rubbing soothing circles on his back, and Arthur moved to place his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"After me and Ron found out that it was Professor Lockhart who would be 'looking' for Ginny, we went to tell him that we'd discovered where it was." He laughed sardonically. "I guess even through the continuous blunders we still thought he'd be able to do it. Anyway when we discovered he was packing we pulled our wands to stop him cursing us. We decided that we'd better make sure he actually went, so we took him along to Myrtle's toilet. There we figured was where the basilisk could enter the pipes." He grinned wryly at Hermione and mentioned that even when she was stuck petrified in a hospital wing she was still saving their guts.

"Anyway, I had to speak parsletounge to open the chamber, and the three of us went down, I remember thinking it was like a dark slimy slide. But when we got down there, Lockhart stole Ron's wand and tried to curse us." At this cries of indignation rose around the room and a few unsavoury names were also thrown about. "But because he was using Ron's broken wand the curse backfired and caused a small cave in. I got separated, on the wrong side. So we decided that it was wasting time if I just stayed there, so I went ahead alone and Ron started shifting the rock so we could get back out." Harry looked up, and was surprised to see that almost everyone in the room had at some point moved closer, and were now comforting one another.

"Eventually I came to another wall, which again had to be opened by parsletounge, and I stepped through." He stopped again, and took another, deeper breath. Almost at once he felt another hand cover the one he was stroking Hermione with, and was shocked to see it was the pale and slender hand of McGonagall, who was smiling at him weakly. The continued support spurred him to continue. "When I first stepped in, I noticed all of the stone pictures of snakes, I looked for Ginny and she was lying motionless at the feet of the statue of Salazar Slytherin. She wasn't stiff, and her eyes were open, so I knew that she wasn't petrified. I thought she was…Then Tom Riddle showed up, and told me that she wasn't dead. That was when I tried to get her out, but Riddle wasn't helping. He was just so calm about it, as if killing someone was an everyday thing for him. I tried to tell him about the basilisk, but as soon as I reached for my wand I realised that he had it." The hands around him tightened.

"I was still confused; I still thought he might help. Slowly he started to tell me about how he'd discovered Ginny, how she'd poured out her heart to him about her brothers, her belongings…me. Apparently she'd been doing it all year, and he was able to start controlling her through it. Ginny would lose her memory for a few hours, and wake up with feathers all over her…He told me that when she finally stopped trusting the diary I found it, and he framed Hagrid He told everything, and it all made sense, you know that he purposefully attacked you Hermione? It was to get back at me; he was hoping you'd die." The gasps went around the room, and Harry could feel Ron trembling beside him. He himself had shut down the feeling part of his brain, and it was like looking at it from the view of a complete stranger.

"He started to talk about when I defeated him the first time, and that's when he told me he was Voldemort. I got angry, said that he was still scared of Dumbledore. Then Fawkes came, with the hat and at first Voldemort mocked it, and I told him about my mother, how she died for me. "There were a few sad smiles around the room, and Sughorn blew his nose. "After that Riddle ordered the snake to attack me. I thought I was going to die…but Fawkes managed to scratch its eyes out. For a while I had to dodge the Basilisk, and all the time I was asking for help- that was when I noticed the sword of Gryffindor, and I managed to stab the snake through its head. But one of its fangs hit me in the process…But !" He hurriedly put in after seeing their shocked faces.

"Harry, could you please repeat that?" Fred was looking a bit confused.

"Oh yeah, sure. Fawkes came in a cried on me, so the venom was reversed. I stabbed the diary that Riddle was manifesting from, with the basilisk fang." At this, he shared a knowing look with cub-Hermione and Ron. "So Ginny started coming back pretty quickly, she was horrified and blamed herself I think…But she only remembered Riddle coming out of the diary, and she didn't see the fight. Still, after we went back to Ron Ginny was stilling blaming herself, she thought she was going to be expelled…" He paused, and turned his head slightly to the side. "I think Mr Weasley that she blames herself still…"

"But she didn't do anything! It wasn't her fault!" Ron burst out, with the others nodding vigorously.

Hermione was itching to say something, and she kept batting at Harry's hand and trying crawl up McGonagall's arm. Unfortunately she was ignored.

"Guilt is a strange thing Ron, it follows no laws and treads wherever it likes. It listens not to reason, but to the heart. That is why it is so powerful." McGonagall's voice sounded sad, and Harry vaguely thought that she sounded like Dumbledore.

"I myself sometimes wonder how things could've gone differently…But the important thing to remember is that you are not in this alone. Ginerva may have forgotten that, but as her family you can help her."

Mr Weasley sighed, and put his arm around his wife. "I think we all have some irrational guilt left over from the war Harry…"

Ron looked up, surprised. "What do you have to feel guilty for Dad?" Arthur gave a sad smile, and Harry noticed the tears in his eyes, he even though he heard the older man's voice break when he spoke. "Sometimes we just wonder, if we did things differently, whether we could those we loved…If I'd have gone F-Fred might…"

There were a few moments of silence where the whole room was sent back to their own demons, their own guilt. Memories of the final battle surfaced, and so did memories of lost ones. Harry felt himself remembering Fred's death, Ron and Hermione's battles and his fear for Ginny. Sometimes it felt like he was hanging over an edge, ready to drop down into-

"Yes well we're all very messed up and need to speak to avery talented therapist, BUT I for one cannot see that happening now. Because no offence, but my manly status can't afford to be damaged by bawling in front of all of you!" George's cheery tone cut through the atmosphere, and Molly tutted. They could all hear the strain in his voice, and see the glistening tears in his eyes.

Molly pulled him into a reluctant hug, something that was mirrored around the room. The room seemed to get smaller as they all mutually agreed to sit and think for a minute, with no one disturbing the silence. They each found somewhere comfortable with all the people they cared about nearby, and just thought. Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione were surprised to be scooped into their head of houses arms. To say that it was at first awkward and uncomfortable was a massive understatement.

But soon they relaxed and just sat there, enjoying each other's warmth and company, as well as anchoring each other to the real world and not falling too deep into the grief. Harry found that with his friends there, he was able to see the good after the war, and looks at the deaths shrouded by only a thin gauze of sadness. After, McGonagall let go, looking quite embarrassed, but not nearly as much as the red faced teens and small cub. However they smiled shyly, and didn't move too far away.

When Hermione began to mewl the room looked at her in surprise and Hermione lamented the fact that she couldn't pull of her usual glares or other scary expressions while she was a fluffy cat. Slowly the others began to comment.

"Oh. I suppose we'd better turn her back…."

"Aww…but I liked her better this way!"

"…Can I pet her? Just once?"

"No! That would be highly humiliating!"

"You speak as if she is not humiliated already."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to turn her back, what if she's planned her revenge?"

"Nah, she knows we'd just gang up on her again."

"Still, she can do some damage…"

"I promised her it would only be for one question."

"I prefer her this way, she can't hurt herself now. If only we could turn the rest of them into one…"

"That would be highly unethical. Minerva would never allow it."

"Hehe, Minerva's not as straight laced as you'd think…"

"Rolanda…"

"Oh someone turn her back already!"

"Alright. Boys, I suggest you prepare yourselves…"

Hermione felt her skin tingle again, and as she grew she distinctly felt a great sense of relief at being able to talk again. "Meeeeeooow!" Hands clapped over her mouth, she looked at an amused Headmistress in irritation.

"I couldn't resist. Don't worry I've fixed it." Hermione once again opened her mouth experimentally.

"Why you bunch of-"

"Language Miss Granger!"

"Hpmh. I will get even boys, be warned." Said boys were now cowering away slightly as her McGonagall glare was back again, in full force. However, their terror didn't last long.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes Professor?"

"Will you kindly get off of my lap? I am afraid that as a cub you were considerably lighter, and I need to move a bit." Hermione jumped off her Professor, glaring daggers at the boys, who were by now in stitches.

Huffing, she went to sit by her Professor's feet, although she didn't look at her and missed the expressions of mirth that passed between the adults present. She started to plot her revenge, even as the next question was asked. Then the question registered in her mind, and she felt her stomach drop.