Outside

It took Ginny weeks to come to terms with everything that had happened. Finally she decided that she was being silly, and was tired of it, and just because she'd had what amounted to a sexual encounter with a professor she worked closely with didn't mean anything had to change. She refused to continue acting like a typical seventeen year old witch with a crush. Frankly, it was nauseating.

And if her body ached at night for the touch of Snape's wand, well, she just had to make do with digging her nails into her nipples until she cried, until blood welled up and trickled down her torso.

It helped that every week she still had to go to Lucius Malfoy's Saturday afternoon dinners with Snape, and sit across the table from Draco, and make the Malfoys believe everything was going smoothly. Once or twice she debated asking Draco if he'd had to go through what she'd had to go through, but somehow she figured not--his father was the penultimate Dark Wizard of the wizarding world (the ultimate being, of course, Voldemort), and therefore she was sure they all just assumed Draco would be just as terrible as Lucius.

Sometimes, to her great shame, she forgot that Lucius and Draco were Dark. Were supporters of You-Know-Who, were lifelong enemies of her family. Were evil, damn it, just as she was supposed to be.

#

"Rumor has it, Miss Weasley, that you're taking this a bit hard." Lucius lounged in his chair as a house elf served him salad.

"I'm sorry? Taking what a bit hard?"

"Oh... This." He waved a beringed hand, and candle light glinted off the Malfoy family crest. "You can't argue with your destiny, girl, and if part of your destiny is to be an obnoxious Weasley, at least another part of your destiny is to be one of our Master's chosen."

She glanced at Snape, but his face was impassive as always. She raised her eyebrows a bit and figured she'd play it by ear. "Well, it wasn't ever what I'd planned for my life, you know, but so far it's not been awful."

"Haven't you been moping about that dreadful school? I hear Professor Kitty Cat has put you on suicide watch."

Ginny forced herself to laugh lightly. "Really, Mr. Malfoy, have I looked on the brink of death these past weeks to you?"

"Not at all, but--"

"Come now, sir. I've been studying for my NEWTs and I've been helping Professor Snape, and perhaps I've been working too hard and am tired, but do you really think that finding out I've been destined from birth to be a Dark Witch is something that I'm unhappy about?"

"It's a bit much to take in," replied Draco. He looked from Ginny to his father and back again. "And everyone knows, because everyone always knows everything at Hogwarts, so perhaps you're missing your friends? Those brave and loyal Gryffindors who abandoned you at the first evidence you're not what they thought?"

She glared at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Draco. I've never had a friend in that school who wasn't a Slytherin."

"Or Harry Potter," spat Lucius.

"I had a crush on Harry Potter when I was eleven years old." Ginny pushed her salad plate away. "I know a bit better now."

Lucius sent her a meaningful glance that she had no idea how to interpret properly. "I would certainly hope so."

"Lucius," Narcissa interrupted firmly. "Do let us talk about something more pleasant than that dreadful school."

Later that night, Draco escorted Ginny out to the Malfoy Family Gardens. They usually took their pudding there, while Snape and Lucius talked about Voldemort and smelly Muggles, and whatever else evil plotted.

"I'm sorry about my father," Draco said around a mouthful of ice cream.

"That he exists, that he's obnoxious, or that he insists we have vanilla ice cream for pudding every Saturday?" replied Ginny lightly.

"All of the above, but also that he's so insistent about us."

"Us?"

"Don't tell me you're that unobservant! Of course you are, you had a crush on Harry Potter." Ginny noticed Draco said Harry's name with the same disdain his father did.

"Draco, stop it." Ginny took another spoonful of ice cream and made a face. Draco took the crystal glass from her absently, having already finished his. "Just tell me what you're talking about."

"My father has this ridiculous notion that you and I will--that we're going to--"

"No way!" Ginny stared at Draco in disbelief. "But. We don't even like each other!"

"Do you think that matters? When Voldemort tells us to do something, we have to do it. We don't get a choice. And if my father mentions this to Voldemort enough, we'll be told to do it. There are too few pureblood wizards hanging about to waste our reproductive capabilities."

"If you hate Voldemort so much, why are you still--"

Draco's eyes widened, and he interrupted her loudly. "What are you on about? I think it's a great idea! And what a way to rub your father's nose in your defection!"

He glared at her and mouthed, "Shut up, Weasley." She shrugged.

"Whatever you say, Draco. I'm just here to do my part."

What the bloody hell? she thought to herself.

#

She asked Snape, back in the dungeons Sunday morning.

"Draco?" Snape snorted. "He'll do whatever his father tells him to."

"I don't think so. He didn't look too happy at the prospect of coupling with me."

"He's not playing professional Quidditch, is he? Lucius forbid it, and therefore Draco won't do it. If Lucius told him to stand on his head for an hour, he'd do it without asking why."

"I don't know. I think--"

"Well stop thinking," Snape snapped. "The last time you thought about something, you put yourself into this mess."

"I may put myself in stupid places, but that's only because I'm trying to do what should be done!" She jumped to her feet and began pacing.

"Stop playing the stupid Gryffindor, Weasley. You're here because you were tired of being ignored and you thought maybe you could die in the service of something bigger than yourself and finally make something out of your life. I tried to tell you, and so did Dumbledore, that this sort of thing rarely works out the way you plan it." Snape sighed tiredly, as though he couldn't really work up the venom he wanted to yell at her. "At least be honest with yourself if you won't be honest with anyone else."

"Nice thing for a Slytherin to say."

"If you lie to everyone, you still need to know the truth. The basis of being able to turn any situation into what you need or want it to be is first to know what you need and what you want, and second to know what the truth of any situation is, and third to know what all the lies are. I'd expect even a stupid child or a Gryffindor to know that much."

She frowned. "You never taught me that."

"It's common sense, girl. Although I suppose that if you were never taught to lie, you were also never taught how it can be useful," he admitted grudgingly.

"Thank you for giving me at least that." She rubbed her eyes. Lucius Malfoy wanted to marry her to Draco. Draco might or might not be totally evil--definitely Dark, but maybe not evil. She wanted Snape--or did she? What did she want? She prided herself on being honest with herself, but maybe she wasn't. Maybe she was fooling herself just as she fooled everyone else. But she didn't fool everyone else--they all thought she was different, and she was. They all thought she was Dark, and she was. They all thought she spent too much time with the Slytherins, and she did.

They all knew what the truth was, and none of it was a lie.

#

NEWTs were hard, but not so hard that Ginny was worried. She was pretty sure she'd passed them all. As soon as she could get her scores over to the St. Mungo's administrators, she would have an apprenticeship position, she knew it. Then she would be out of Hogwarts. She wasn't quite sure how she would continue to work for the forces of Light after she'd left Hogwarts, but it wasn't like she was really making a difference anyway.

That was one of the truths she'd come to realize. She'd known it, but she hadn't known it. Snape was right the whole time--she really had been hoping to do something to distinguish herself from the rest of the Weasleys. To help the world, to make a difference--but to do it in a sneaky, sexy way. To be the sort of witch they wrote books and made Muggle movies about. To stop fading into corners. She had told herself she wanted to be a spy because nobody noticed her, but she'd really wanted to be a spy so people would notice her.

Oh, Brigid. What in Hades was wrong with her? Were all witches and wizards this bloody screwed up in the head?

#

"Ah, Miss Weasley." Dumbledore offered her a tin of gumdrops. "Thank you for coming so promptly."

"Of course."

"I know you have been expecting to take a position with St. Mungo's when you graduate..."

"Yes, well, I'd like to use some of the knowledge I have from working with Professor Snape all year."

"Can't you use that just as well here?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her, and she felt her face drawing into a scowl, so she quickly, deliberately smoothed her skin out.

"What I'm saying, Miss Weasley, is that Professor Snape has come to depend on you, and I think we can offer you just as much here as St. Mungo's can offer."

Ginny leaned forward. "You're offering me a Potions apprenticeship at Hogwarts?"

"It's more of an Assistant Professorship, really. An apprenticeship would require you to commit five years to working under Professor Snape, and I don't know that I can spare my Potions professor the time... However, Professor Snape has found that he enjoys having more time to do Potions experiments. So you would be helping him with Potions in your off-hours, and teaching some of his classes--"

"Only a few classes. A select few." Professor Snape melted into the room from the shadows in the corner. Ginny's heart skipped, then resumed its normal beating schedule. His brows were drawn and his glare was dark and his arms were folded across his chest. He looked like himself, completely and totally Professor Snape. Not tired, not worn out--just grouchy and mean.

He glowered at her, and Ginny's eyes began to throb. Is this love? she pondered, as Snape continued to outline what her duties would be very meticulously. It wasn't anything like what she'd felt for Harry Potter when she was eleven or twelve. It wasn't like making out with Seamus Finnegan when she was fourteen. No, this was... Burning. It was an ache, but not in her heart.

She blinked twice when Snape handed her a thick parchment sheaf.

"This," he said, "is a list of duties I expect you to accomplish, and a complete outline of how to grade the papers of the first years."

"Um."

"You don't have to decide now," Dumbledore added kindly. "Why don't you look over the packet St. Mungo's sends you, and look over this, and decide then. You have, of course, until the summer holidays."

Ginny nodded dumbly.

"Go on now." Dumbledore nodded at her. "I'm sure your housemates are celebrating the end of the term."

"All right..." Clutching the parchment, she walked to the door, then turned to face the smiling Dumbledore and the glowering Snape. "Thank you for the opportunity. No matter what I decide in the end--I appreciate it."

Dumbledore nodded, but Snape continued to scowl at her, as usual, still looking more like himself than he had since... well, since. And, suddenly, Ginny was very suspicious.