Outside

The beginning of Ginny's seventh year went by slowly. Snape worked on potions she didn't consider to be all that dangerous: a yellow one to take away fear; a blue one for sedation; a pinky-orange one that wiped six months' worth of bad memories and left its taker with only happy thoughts; a rich grey one that had to be applied to the eyes of the victim, but once applied could never be removed, and could only be activated if the applier said invesperascit--and the victim would walk around in a dimly lit world, as though carrying only a Muggle candle, until the charm was lifted. Veritaserum, and its stronger, stranger, sister-potion, the Viteoserum, which caused its taker to confess every illegal, immoral, and unethical thing they'd ever done, down to stealing candy from their siblings as children. Ginny didn't quite understand that one--surely Death Eaters didn't think killing Muggles was immoral or unethical, so would they confess that sort of thing under its influence? She tried to question Snape, but he rolled his eyes and ordered her to be more careful when mincing.

They were all uncomfortable potions, Dark because they were used for manipulation, but nothing inherently evil. Everything had its positive side and its negative side, and Ginny figured that these potions had to be necessary sometimes. There wasn't a potion equivalent of crucio--Snape grumbled at her about torture methods for days, and all she could figure out from him was that if someone wanted to torture a Wizard or Muggle, there were plenty of Muggle poisons that would do the job, and most Wizards preferred wands to potions anyway.

Snape dosed her with a drop of Veritaserum every morning when they began their work. There had been a few embarrassing moments--such as when Snape asked her what on earth she could possibly be thinking as she stirred clockwise instead of counterclockwise, and she replied, "I'm thinking about peeing"--but nothing she wouldn't recover from, and she was learning to think around the potion, to tell pieces of the truth instead of just blindly blurting out the first thing in her mind. Snape still surprised her sometimes with unexpected questions to see how well she was bearing up--Could you draw your wand on Harry Potter? If you parents begged you, would you cease your Dark activities? Are you a virgin? Have you ever thought about Dumbledore naked?--but other than some blushes, she was getting better and better, and he was gradually increasing her dose.

Understanding the potential in inuring herself against the powerful potion, Ginny resolved to learn how to resist crucio and imperio as soon as possible. She asked Snape to teach her, but he laughed harshly and told her that after twenty-five years of being exposed to Unforgiveable curses, he still couldn't resist them--and, in fact, the only person who could was probably Harry Potter.

She couldn't help but begin to resent Harry; she finally understood why Snape was always so angry with Harry and Ron and Hermione. Despite people dying and Harry's tortured soul, and all that, they still viewed saving the world as a game. None of them were ever hurt (or killed), after all, so even though they may think they worried about it, they never were really exposed to the seedier side of Wizarding, and the violent side of the war.

Neither, really, had Ginny been, because she still hadn't done any real spy work, was still sitting on the sidelines. That was fine with her, because she kept rethinking her decision--and Dumbledore's decision too. What was he planning? It had to be something, because it didn't make sense that he would just let her become a spy because she asked. She couldn't imagine what on earth she could possibly do to help the cause of the Light by pretending to be Dark, which meant Dumbledore was just indulging her need to feel useful by letting her play at being dangerous.

She was learning a lot, though, she had to admit. And, strangely, she found she enjoyed Snape's company. He was silent most of the time, like herself, and when he did speak, it was usually to say something cutting. But she had learned early on to ignore the nastiness in his voice and focus on his critique--and she'd managed to become quite proficient in assisting him with chopping, stirring, infusing, decocting, and all of the other things he had her do.

One of the potions he taught her to make was a glamour, and when it was finished, it gave off small sparks. Snape carefully poured it into a phial, and handed it to her. "Charm this," he said, "and keep it on you at all times."

"But I can just use my wand for a glamour." She examined the bottle. The trapped sparks created a shimmery effect, not unlike the glitter Muggle makeup some of the girls in her year liked to wear.

"Stupid child. You think you will always have your wand? You think you will always be able to depend upon your wand? The only wands that are truly flawless are those with freely given unicorn blood inside, or a Phoenix feather. All other wands have their own affiliations, and you would be wise to remember that." He was filling more phials as he spoke. "And this is not a glamour that will actually change your appearance. It will only make you more alluring. That bit will last five hours, but no longer."

She pulled out her wand and tapped the phial. "Reducio. Impervio." She tucked the phial, which was now the size of a small acorn, into one of the hidden pockets of her robe. "How do I take it?"

"Drink it. If you touch a bit to each eyelid, you will be able to see who else is wearing it. They will have a slight purple glow about their person."

Snape's mouth was more drawn than usual. Ginny realized suddenly that this was her first spy lesson. When in doubt, attract people to you. Control through lust. Be sneaky, be clever, and use your femininity. Everything is a weapon. "That's what this is, then."

Snape looked at her briefly. "Yes. That is what that's for."

Ginny swallowed hard and looked away.

#

Every once in a while, Hermione, eyes hollow, skin stretched tight over bone, formerly bushy, fluffy hair lank, would come in to the lab Ginny and Snape were working in, and she'd take ingredients to mix herself a sleeping draught, and other things Ginny didn't understand the combined use for. Snape did, because he knew everything there was to know about every ingredient in his storeroom, but he never said anything to Ginny about any of it, so she just pretended everything was normal, and said nothing.

#

"Miss Weasley, this is your last chance to stop, to go back to being an ordinary student. As the Muggles say, no harm, no foul. We will just forget these past few weeks have occured. You would still be able to help Professor Snape with his potions, nothing else will have--"

"No, Headmaster. I want to do this."

"Very well, Miss Weasley." An out of character hesitation, and then a brief hug. The scents of lemon and cinnamon. Tears burning eyelids, but pushed aside. "Good luck."

#

Dear Mum and Dad,

Thank you for the extra Galleons, but I told you I didn't need them--I've been working for Snape, and Hogwarts pays student assistants well enough--so I've used them to buy tickets for you both to see Ron and Harry's Christmas match in America. I've arranged for you to stay in a half-Muggle, half-Wizard hotel that Dumbledore told me about. This way, you get to be comfortable, Mum, and Dad gets to play with Muggles

and stay out of trouble. (Sorry, Dad. You know it's true!)

I'm not going to be coming, because I am right in the middle of that special Advanced Potions project I told you about last time I wrote. It's coming along wonderfully, but I don't want to leave it for such an extended period.

I love you both. Please give my love to my brothers, and wish Harry and Ron good luck for me. Tell them I've seen Hermione and she's well. It's very quiet here without everyone, but it's nice to not have to worry about dodging stray hexes in the hall.

Have a wonderful holiday. Maybe I will be able to get special permission to come home for a weekend later on.

Love,
Ginny

#

"Malfoy dungeons." Ginny followed Snape into the Floo, and came out suppressing a cough. She stumbled into the huge stone dungeon, and Snape caught her arm.

"Miss Weasley."

"Professor. Thank you."

"Well, Severus. What have you brought us? A new toy?" Lucius Malfoy was lounging against the far wall, hands tucked in his robe. He squinted at the pair, rolled his eyes. "Really, Severus. A Weasley?"

"Better, Lucius. A convert."

Ah, there it was. The sneer Ginny remembered. She could do this; this was nothing compared to Tom Riddle.

#

"Finally tired of old Dumbass-dore and his Boy Who Lived to be Annoying, eh, Weasel?" Draco took a bite of salad and smirked while he chewed. Ginny was impressed despite herself.

"Something like that," she replied mildly. "I'm a powerful Pureblood witch, and yet everyone overlooks me--Dark and Light. I'm tired of being ignored." Ginny looked over at Snape and they exchanged a meaningful look. The meaning for Lucius and Draco, however, was hopefully very different from what she and Snape meant.

"The Dark Lord will make sure that doesn't happen. I can't imagine how Molly and Arthur managed to come up with you." Lucius, at the other end of the table, next to Snape, looked from his companion to Ginny and down to his plate. He carefully and precisely cut his meat, chewed each bite a specific number of times, and closed his eyes when he swallowed. Ginny vowed to become a vegetarian as soon as the war was over; she was pretty sure that pretending loyalty to Voldemort meant eating everything that was put in front of her by a Death Eater, even if it was roasted giant squid tentacles.

"They forgot a primary rule of parenting." Ginny slowly chewed a carrot and swallowed.

"And what's that?" Lucius finally asked. Score one to me, Ginny thought.

"Dark Wizards aren't born. They're made." Ginny returned her attention to her meal. She missed the approving look Lucius sent her way, but Snape didn't.