And so Ginny's life of discovering London's second, and much more nefarious underground network, begins.
Dung takes her everywhere, meeting all his contacts, (squibs, muggles and low-level magic users alike). She watches his business deals, analyzing them afterwards, picking out what could have been better or worse. He is very pleased with his role of mentor, though she less so as she trails after his smelly ass, being chased by people they shorted on deals more often than not, with Dung laughing all the way.
She loves it.
He takes her out of simple pick-pocketing and petty thefts and brings her into a life that can actually turn a profit. Gone are the stagnant days of summer, now come high adrenaline foot chases through the back alleyways of London, of smuggling home rune stones through her dance classes, and carrying out magic snake venom in her school lunch bag.
It's a tricky thing, keeping a good school and work balance; what with needing to maintain good grades to keep her place in the school, keeping up the extracurriculars her parents still had her attend, let alone her extra extracurricular activities with Dung. They make it work though, and she becomes a common sight on the blurred edges of knockturn alley, dashing from her latest sale back to class before the end of lunch break.
It must have been mid-November when she has the idea that turns their two-man business into a solid enterprise. She's in her Fifth form chem class, tired and impatient, ready for school to end so she can get to dance. She barely focuses on her chem teacher, mind jumbled with thoughts of her upcoming ballet lesson, her maths homework, and how her and Dung are going to settle the dispute with the vampires who claim they were given dirty blood (which they were, but still, bad talk was bad for business). She also has an upcoming sales pitch with amateur potioneers who are interested in getting their products on the market. She's planning on coming in with a 30% cut, they would likely low-ball with 2-5%, she would accept no less than 15%.
"Now class, see here the hexagonal shape that this compound takes on. Now what we are looking at here is the base makeup of belladonna, a poisonous plant that was claimed to be a common ingredient in 'witches' brews in the middle ages. We've since learned that it is simply poisonous. Now there are many other uses for the belladonna plant..."
Startled out of her musings, she sits up, startled as the beginnings of an idea start to take root, mind whirring as the teacher details the properties belladonna plant as a chemical compound and describes the double and single bonds keeping it together.
She jumps when the bell for class goes off, and hurries to pack her things, joining the mass of students eager to escape from school. She goes on autopilot, going through the motions, mind still miles away until she finds herself in the middle of the studio, pointe shoes laced and her ballet instructor yelling in her face.
The deal goes well. The potioneers grudgingly settling on 16% for her services in the distribution and marketing of their products, and include a hefty bonus for every client she signs.
She's nearly running on the way back to Grimmauld, thoughts she'd been mulling over in her mind since school now beginning to take shape, and she's eager to see what Dung thinks of her idea. She rounds the corner into what had been quickly dubbed 'their' alleyway, and almost smacks right into him. He grabs her sharply and pulls her with him around the corner, crouching behind a nearby skip. She's practiced enough in this that she can contain her sigh of irritation, and waits impatiently as they hide from the people chasing after Dung yet again. Finally, the crooks decide the thief must be long gone and head further into the London maze. Pushing Dung off of where he's huddle practically on top of her, she grumbles as she picks bits of trash out of her clothes and hair for what must be the third time this week.
"We've really got to stop meeting like this," she grumbles, though smiles slightly at the sight of Dung trying to get himself out of the bin she'd pushed him into. She laughs, finally giving in and helping him out, giggling at the amount of rubbish clinging to him.
"Alright, alright, that's enough," he grumbles, dusting himself off. "Now, what had you in such a hurry to see me? Those overgrown dungeon bats - They didn't give you too much trouble did they?"
"No, no, that was fine, plus you know I can take care of myself!"
"'Course you can luv," he says with a laugh, "give 'em the ol' one-two and they'll be runnin' for cover!" He chortles, but sobers quickly enough when she raises her arms up, fists clenched in the classic boxer's pose.
"So, tell me, what happened." he says, raising his hands up in surrender, "what's this thing that I absolutely gotta know?" he asks. So she tells him about the idea she had, and watches as his mouth turns up into an eager grin and the cartoon money signs almost visibly dance around him as he thinks about the profits they're about to make.
"All right princess, alright. I can't say this won't take a lot o'work, an' we'll have to be mighty careful wit' this you hear? Ain't never done nothin' like this before, but doll this is solid gold this is. I would kiss ya if I didn't think you'd have my balls for tryin.'"
She laughs, pleased and excited about the future, before punching him in the stomach as he leans in to try.
She walks towards Number 12 with a hop in her step and a smile on her face as Dung trails behind her, grumbling and limping all the way.
They sorted through their contacts for people who could be of use, and people who could be trusted. Still, they had to be cautious, compartmentalizing information from person to person, never letting anyone know of their full plan until the very end. While they were no expert in Potions, they were with 'real' business, and knew how easily ideas could be stolen. After all, they did it all the time.
Ginny's idea was simple in itself. What would happen if muggle drugs were added to magical potions? Everyone knew that muggle drugs as they were had little effect on a magical person, the magic in their blood quickly metabolising through the 'poison'. If any effects were felt they were largely negative, the lows without the highs, so to speak. But muggle plants were added to magical potions for their properties as neutralizers, capable of being an inhibiting agent or a catalyst. That must mean that they have powerful properties to handle magical elements, right? This had been Ginny's brainwave in her Fifth form Chemistry class, and when broaching the idea, it seemed simple enough. They would simply need to experiment.
Which they did.
A lot.
Weeks turned into months and they had nothing to show for it. They would have given up completely by now if they hadn't been so bloody determined to make it a success.
Finally, the accidental breakthrough they were hoping for. Mid May, a young potioneer made a truly rooky mistake of stirring in powdered Ecstasy rather than pixie dust. They were still cleaning up the resulting explosion. Those who had been unlucky enough to inhale the fumes caused by the disaster were still high as kites, a full week later. Excited by their success, it seemed this was all that was needed to get the ball rolling. They were soon launching their 'magic pills' to the lower end clientele of Knockturn alley. In quick succession, their attempts at mixing muggle hallucinogenic mushrooms with Pepper-Up Potions, and Codeine with Invigorating Elixir became their two most popular products; Marijuana and Calming Draught right behind in third place for most sought after drug in magical London. The effects would vary from person to person, and especially so between magical creatures, but D&G magic pills are sure to provide an unforgettable experience, or so their creators promised. Within a year, word of mouth leads to the massive success of their products, and Ginny and Dung amass fortunes to their names.
The end of the school year goes by in a blink of an eye, and suddenly Ginny's family is forced to evacuate Grimmauld Place in fear that the location has been compromised with the death of Sirius Black and Kreacher's betrayal. Refusing to go back to the Burrow, and managing to convince her mother that changing schools yet again would only cause her unneeded distress, they reach a compromise. Ginny would stay with Bill at his apartment in London during the summer, and they would revisit the topic before the school year began if Grimmauld was still deemed uninhabitable.
Exhausted, and eager to get back into the rhythm of things, she makes herself scarce, especially when Bill has his girlfriend Fleur over. Bill thinks nothing of it, his little sister obviously having a large group of muggle friends that keep her out at all hours in the summer. Besides, his little sister has gotten the soloist role in her junior dance company and she has that thing on Sunday's where she hits people for fun, something called martial arts? On those nights she always comes home grumbling that her martial arts instructor is always murmuring at her to focus, but she finds that hard to do with him saying it all the time in her face. He laughs, and puts thoughts of her comings and goings out of mind.
Fall term arrives, and Ginny is allowed to stay with a Bill to finish her last two years of schooling in London. By now her and Dung's business has had an incredible effect in shifting and modernizing drugs in the magical world. She hears Fred and George praise whoever got magic pills to be 'cool' because their potion products are just flying off the shelves, and she smiles to herself, pleased. When Bill comes home from work complaining that the goblins are showing up high, which only serve to make them even more irritating, she can't help but laugh in his face.
The fun times aren't made to last, however. As the year goes on and the attacks on muggle London increase, her mother's worry for her safety becomes much more pronounced. She begs to be allowed to continue school where she is, at least for this year. She says she's happy here, and doesn't want to leave her friends, or her school, that she's settle now, that she's herself now. Her mother can't do anything in the face of that. It's only when Dumbledore dies later on in June that Ginny starts to take her mother's worries of an upcoming war seriously. She talks to Dung about it, and he agrees that it's high time to go underground, so they look for someone willing to buy up their little company, and scamper.
It's midway through July, the days getting longer and the nights getting grimmer. Ginny and Dung sit side by side in the back room of a bar that's ten years past decrepit, both of them tired after a long week of fruitless negotiations to get their recipes and products into the hands of a suitable buyer. The distant sounds of a clan battle can be heard taking place in the bar proper, and they only move from their seats when a pair of snarling partially transformed werewolves barrel into the room, crashing through the door as they snarl and tear at each other with human hands half formed into paws.
A high pitched whistle causes everyone to cringe, and they watch startled, as the two snarling men are ripped apart seemingly by thin air. The werewolves scamper away, cowering as a man walks into the room, face in his trademark scowl, robes billowing behind him as he stalks forward. He dismisses Ginny and Dung with a glance and waves his wand at the broken door absentmindedly, repairing it without word. He sits, Ginny and Dung following suit, dazed at the sight of the man in front of them.
"Well well well, isn't this a surprise," he drawls, black eyes glimmering as he looks between the two of them, face devoid of any emotion. Ginny fights the urge to fidget as the man who killed Dumbledore just weeks before looks her square in the eye. She sees Dung twirling his wand anxiously between his hands, obviously uncomfortable in the presence of a former Order member-cum-Death Eater.
Waiting for Dung to start the conversation is obviously useless, so she sighs, mentally preparing herself for the shit show that's about to happen. She leans forward, clasping her hands together and braces her arms on the table in between them as she fights to keep a meditative state of mind.
"So," she starts slowly, fingers ticking against each other as she watches Snape for any sign of emotion, "a deal we literally can't refuse hmm?" She asks, referring to the words their contact had said of this potential buyer.
"Indeed Miss Weasley. My current, hmm, employer, has been keeping track of your little operation for a while now, and was quite amused at how your little 'magic pills' had such a devastating effect on the population. He is, shall we say, eager to get his hands on the recipes."
Ginny snorts, "Are you sayin' the famed Professor Snape couldn't guess how we did it?"
"And yet, I know who you are," says Snape, an evil twist to his lips, "I offer you the curtesy of a contract, but you and I both know I do not need to spend coin on information I could extract from you would take only some creativity." He says the word slowly, the enunciation enough to convey his intent. "And then with what's left of you, well, do you know how many would kill to know the identities of the people behind the products that literally tripled magical London's addiction rate overnight?"
Dung's posture stiffens at the thinly veiled threat, and he asks, speaking for the first time in the meeting. "What'da'ya want Snape?" he says, "What's got your business so interested in ours?"
Ginny begins slowly riffling for the wooden spike she keeps hidden in her purse for occasions such as this. She's not sure whether the rumours regarding her former Professor hold any truth, but a stake to the heart should do suitable damage in any case.
Snape pauses, looking at him before saying, "This is an area of, special interest, to certain parties of which I am acquainted. As a Master in potions it was obviously tasked to me to approach the sellers of such an, enterprise as this." He looks at them both, focused and determined to be out of here as soon as possible. "I have a generous sum to offer both of you in exchange for complete silence in regards to the buyer. I'm interested in purchasing your entire stock of inventory, ingredients, cauldrons, and brewing facilities."
Dung whistles, "That ain't gonna to be cheap lad."
Snape shoots him a bitter look, "As I said, I'm willing to offer you a substantial amount -"
"Of how much?' Ginny interrupts, not eager to see this continue in circles.
Snape quiets her with a glance, before continuing, "- half will appear in a holding account at Gringotts this very evening should you agree to our terms, the remainder of which shall be deposited once the transfer of goods is complete and your brewing notes are deemed in order. I cannot speak to emphasize the consequences if one were to find inaccuracies of any sort in any of the materials sold to us." He threatens, his eyes hard and his face twisted in a scowl.
"How-"
"The offer is 2 million galleons, each" he says, cutting Ginny off as if she hadn't even spoken. He reaches into his cloak and pulls out a contract, unrolling it in one smooth motion before laying it on the table in front of them. He adds, "Though I'm not sure how the squib is deserving of such a sum. How did she contribute to this again?" He asks lightly, looking at Dung. Ginny lets out a growl and makes to stand, wooden pike in hand before Dung forces her back in her chair. Snape looks ever so pleased with himself as he watches the exchange
"Deal." Dung says suddenly, looking rather pale.
"-What, Dung? You can't be serious?" Ginny says startled, looking over at him.
"Hush child," he says, looking more serious than she's ever seen him.
"Now, we won't be askin' much of ya," he says to Snape, "But if you can giv-us a week or so to be getting our affairs in order-"
"Dung what are you doing!"
"You have three days," Snape says over Ginny's cry. He nods to each of them as he stands, "Mr. Fletcher, Miss Weasley" and he makes his way to the door. One hand on the doorknob, he turns around to catch Dung's eye, and nods so slightly she almost misses it. Snape leaves, cloak trailing behind him as the noise of the club hits them like a wave, leaving Ginny and Dung sitting back in a daze.
They look at each other, startled, and at a loss for words. When it looks like Ginny is about to open her mouth, Dung silences her with a wave of his hand.
"Not here," He says weary of the open door and lack of silencing charm, "Not now. Meet me at my place in twenty." He says before she can interrupt, and stands up, following Snape's path, leaving her alone in the room.
She looks around, never having felt more alone in her life as she feels right now, in this grey barren room, and its crumbling walls. Everything she had worked so hard for these past two years, gone. She sighs, standing up as she hears the sounds of a fight coming her way, and shakes her head at Dung, wondering how on earth he expects her to make it to his place on the other side of London in that amount of time. Head down, cloak wrapped tightly around her form, she makes her way out of the bar, stake in hand, and resists the urge to flag a cab once she get's out on the street, just for the principle of it.
Forty minutes later, she pounds on Dung's door, soaked and shivering at the downpour that had caught her unawares. He lets her in, and she shucks out of her jacket and quickly removes her soaking shoes, frowning at her wet socks; wishing, not for the first time, that she would have swallowed her pride and hailed a cab.
She edges her way into the apartment, weary of the miscellaneous objects scattered throughout. Dung is pacing, and she takes stock of the open bottle of booze on top of the kitchen counter, and the empty glass beside it.
She stands, shivering and soaked in his living room, waiting for him to start. This certainly isn't their first fight in the two years they've known each other, but she has a feeling it could be their worst.
"We've got to get you out'a London. Out'a this fuckin' country," he says eventually, looking more grim than she's ever seen him. She nods. That'd been the plan, but wait -
"What do you mean me, not us? Dung, you're not coming? What the fuck-"
"I gotta stay, some business Dumbledore wanted me to finish-"
She protests immediately. There's no way she's leaving Britain alone, that had never been on the cards.
"You don't get it, you've never understood, this past year -" he says over top of her protests, making his way over to the bottle, "You weren't around for the last war," he says with his back to her, head bowed as he puts down the glass and takes a swig straight from the bottle. "You don't understand how bad-"
"Fuck you I don't understand!" she says, unable to stop from interrupting. He startles, and swears as he spills his drink on the rug. Turning to face her, he opens his mouth but Ginny cuts him off.
"How dare you say I don't understand; that I don't get it. You know what I've been through, what was done to me." She pauses, heaving for breath, before the words roll out of her mouth, out of her control now, "I don't need you lookin' down on me like everyone else does - that's bullshit Dung an' you know it. I may not 'ave been around for the first war but it sure as hell killed a piece of me as it did anyone else."
"But that's just it!" he replies, truly angry now, "It's not stopping, it's gonna get worse! An' you, you only faced a shade, by your own admission. Tom Riddle at sixteen, Gin. If he did that much damage then, don't you get it Gin? Don't you see-"
"-No I don't Dung" she interrupts, "I don't get it. All this time I've had to put up with people treating me like I'm not capable of lookin' after myself, like I can't do nothin' now I've got no magic. And now your doin' the same thing! Tellin' me to run off to the country while you and the boys take care of things 'ere, like I can't be lookin' after myself, just 'cuz i don't fit in nowhere, -"
"Now that's not what I'm talking about and you know it. I'm just trying to get both our arses out a danger. That's why we agreed to sell the damn business!"
"Oh an' I'm sure that's the only reason is it? You lyin' cheatin' bastard, arrangin' this whole thing with Snape, what you stay behind, had a good ol' laugh be'ind my back. I bet you and Snape planned this whole thing out! I bet you're actually working for that Death Eater! You are aren't ya!"
"Who you callin a Death Eater? I ain't no ones fuckin Death Eater-"
"Oh yes you are!"
"No I ain't"
"Yes you are, and I bet you wipe Lucius Malfoy's arse when he be askin for it too!"
"Oh you little-"
He takes a swing at her, misses and stumbles at the loss in balance, the drink not helping him when she punches a fist into his gut and barely avoiding a follow through kick to his knees. He grabs her hair in response and gets a good hit at her nose before her knee slams into his crotch. He curses, letting her go on reflex and she's got him in a headlock before he can get outta the way. She's screaming, cursing him at the top of her lungs, red hair flying around her and blood gushing out of her nose. She looks like a woman possessed, he thinks, before his thoughts go blurry at the edges. Scrambling now, he manages to find purchase and crashes them both into the ground. He lands hard on her ribs, and before she can recover he scrambles out of reach, raising his wand, head throbbing and palms sweating as he keeps his aim on her. Ginny's still wheezing on the ground, arm wrapped around her ribs, but he knows not to let his guard down before -
She sweeps her right leg around and sends him to face first onto the floor once more. There's a mad scramble for the loose wand, and they claw and scratch at each other trying to get the upper hand. Ginny emerges victorious, her longer nails having done some damage before she stands, mirroring the position he had been in, wand raised, blood rushing down her face. They both realize the wand is useless in her hands at the same moment, and the utter despair that flashes across her face is enough to have Dung back on his feet, arms cradling her as she sobs, dropping the wand from her finger tips and watching as it rolls on the floor.
They stand there for some time, each holding on to the other until Ginny's sobbing settles into the occasional hiccuping breaths.
"I'm sorry I called you a Death Eater," she says after some time, breaking his gaze from the cars and drunken pedestrians going past his window. He looks down at her, and groans when she wipes the back of her hand under her nose and brushes it against his jacket, mildly disgusted at the mix of blood and snot staining his sleeve. She giggles, and tries to cling onto him, wiping her face into his jacket as he struggles to break free. Finally escaping, he pushes her onto the couch and makes his way over to the kitchen, the sound of her laugh comforting him as he throws his now snot-covered jacket at her.
She sighs into Dung's couch, and looks around the apartment as if taking it in for the first time. Her mind brings up images of her and Dung walking into this place laughing with adrenaline pulsing in their veins after yet another close escape; of them in that dingy little kitchen where they tried their first attempt at food based potions and were sick as dogs for weeks after; at the crappy mattress behind that, where she had sat and cried on Dung's shoulder when whatever boy she had been dating had broken her heart, and Dung had told her all the ways they'd make sure that boy would never walk straight again, and they'd laughed and they'd laughed as they came up with more and more ridiculous ways until they were both cryin'. She images her relationship with Dung must be something like Harry's with Sirius. She sighs, knowing how well that turned out, and looks around the room, at the only place she's ever really felt at home since first year, and knows this is the last time she'll see it.
She thanks him softly when he returns and takes the steaming mug of tea gently between her hands. They sit beside each other silently, Ginny blowing softly on the tea, cooling it down before taking a sip. She can tell Dung is struggling to say something, and is exhausted enough to wait for him to spit it out.
"Did I, did I ever tell ya 'bout my little girl?" he says finally, when she's halfway through her tea and her eyelids have gotten droopy enough that she's wondering if he slipped some sort of sleep drug into her cup. She startles at his voice, and shakes her head when he looks over at her for an answer.
"Ya, me and Melisandre had a wee lass together," he says softly, turning his eyes back to the wall, gaze far away and tea mug cradled between his hands. "She was a spitfire, she was, keepin' her Ma up all night with her wailing, but oh she was everythin' to us Gin."
He pauses, taking a breath as his voice cracks.
"I can't, I can't see you gone too," he whispers, and he keeps his gaze straight, not looking towards her as she cuddles up into his side, careful of her sore ribs. Swallowing back his tears, he says, "You don't see, you don't understand, the lengths someone would go through to keep their baby girl safe. An' your family, I know you don't get along, but you don't think if anythin' happened to ya that there's nothin' in the world they wouldn't do to get you back?" He pauses, "And I wouldn't either." He sighs.
"We knew what we were getting into, wantin' to sell the business. We wanted this," he says, finally looking down at her, before taking a sip of his tea, face twisting into a grimace when he swallows the now cold tea. He thanks her softly when she passes him his wand, and he taps both of their drinks gently, watching as steam rises out of their mugs, warming in their hands. "Snape arriving was more a thing o'luck than anything else," he laughs at the incredulous look on her face, and sighs, knowing Gin's opinion on luck more than anything else. "I know, I know, it's all a bit strange, but what's one of your sayin's, not looking a duck in the mouth or some'in?"
She snorts with laughter, then groans with pain as some of the tea she had been drinking goes up her nose. Dung looks down at her and bursts into laughter at the expression on her face. She knows she can't stay mad at him forever, and trying to keep a straight face when she hears Dung's horrible giggle is always impossible.
"So what then?" She asks after they've calmed down, regaining their breath. "Where do I go?"
"Paris," he says after a pause, draining the rest of his tea before continuing, "We'll get you a one-way portkey to Paris. I have a contact there that you can stay with."
At her silence, he jostles her shoulder lightly with his own and plasters a smile on his face, "It'll be fine, you'll see."
Somehow, this fails to reassure her.