A/N: this is completely AU. I hold no allegiance to Canon, and shall do what I will with these characters. For the record, these characters are not mine, but rather belong to JKR. I have a group on Yahoo! Groups. Do visit/join up. It is currently under construction, but will eventually be a comprehensive list of all the best fanfiction, and shall serve as a place to discuss HP as you will.

It Brings Out The Best In Us Chapter 2: Toujours Pur
Ginny stared at herself in the mirror. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin looked tired and dry. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night, because naturally, her mother had lectured her to kingdom come about how she should let those "who know about these things" deal with them. She flicked her wand, and the darkness disappeared. Another flick, and her freckles were gone. Her red locks became a pale mousy brown. Her cheekbones became more prominent, and her jaw receded.

Tonight was the night of the revel. You couldn't be too careful.

'Ron? Are you there?' she called as she walked into the ballroom that had been converted into a fully functional combat training facility. 'I'm just telling you that I'm going now. I've already signed out.' Before you could leave Order HQ you had to sign yourself out, giving a rough estimate of when you would return.

Ron looked up at her from his position on the floor where he was tying his boots. 'Ginny?' he asked, confused. 'You're not coming with us, are you? Harry didn't put you down…'

'Don't worry, Ron. I'm just going out to get some potion's ingredients. We're running low on a few. I'll be back in a few hours, tops.'

'Ginny, its dangerous out there – the raid's on tonight.' Ginny growled in frustration. It was always like this. Generally, she stayed in the house, only traveling to other secure locations. The one time she needed to go shopping…

'Ron, this is probably the safest time for me to be out. All the DEs will be with you guys. Plus, I know how to take care of myself. I've had the same training as you, and everyone is wary of my infamous Bat Bogey hex. No.' She held up a hand. 'Ron, don't even suggest it. No one can go in my stead, because no one else knows what to buy. Ok? Ill see you when I get back.' Finished, she turned, and began to walk away. But suddenly, she flung herself into her brother's strong arms and hugged him tightly.

'Be careful, ok? Don't do anything stupid, and bring back all your body parts.'

'I will, Gin. Love you.'

'Love you too. Now go kick some arse'

Leaving her brother to prepare with his team, Ginny slung her satchel full of empty vials and crates onto her shoulder, before slipping past the kitchen (where her mother was cooking, much to the elves' chagrin) and out the front door.

It was spooky, Ginny decided, to be in Knockturn Alley at four o'clock in the afternoon. There was an air of disquiet and emptiness, though all the usual suspects littered the street with their filth and dirt.

A wheezing warlock tried to hack her arm with a rusty knife caked in Merlin-knows-what, and a withered hag offered her the blood of a baby unicorn for her hair. Dark figures watched silently as she passed, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

Pushing her discomfort to the back of her mind, Ginny slid onto her face the dissatisfied, haughty look she had mastered after spending too much time in Snape's company. The look that screamed breeding, that indicated that you had places to be, the look that said 'don't mess with me.' It wouldn't do to walk down this part of Wizarding London looking as though you didn't belong, even if you were in disguise.

She picked her way through the cobblestone streets, dodging the indigent and the hawkers. Reaching the door of Slager & Finch's Apothecary, she paused to take a deep breath, before entering the shop. It was he only place left in the area. Flitwiggle's had shut down, as had the Hogsmeade franchise. There were still some on the Continent, of course, but transcontinental apparitions were still being monitored. Slager & Finch's, the potions equivalent to Borgin & Burke's for the Dark Arts, was all that remained.

The shop smelt musty, as though it hadn't been cleaned out in many years. Which, knowing the proprietors, it probably hadn't.

A bell tinkled ominously as the door shut behind her. Struggling not to look behind her, she made her way over to the stacks, and began filling her containers with the requisite ingredients. Peering through the jars, she could just make out the counter, where Slager, the proprietor, was dealing with a customer. He was standing very still, looking down his nose at the quivering potions supplier, who was bent in supplication. The man turned and stared at her, searchingly. There was something about that face. She knew it from somewhere…

'Fuck,' she cursed loudly, as a vial dropped to the floor. The valerian went everywhere, making her cough. Hurriedly, she magicked the fine powder into another vial, placing it safely in her bag.

Getting rid of the glass was not difficult, but it was embarrassing. Forced to endure that man's glare made you feel a fool regardless of you're foolishness. Draco Malfoy was a powerful man; his wealth, position, and looks made strong men quake and long to be saved.

She wondered if his next destination would be Malfoy Manor.

Banishing such thoughts from her mind (Who knew how competent a legilimens he was?), Ginny continued to gather her ingredients, all the while trying to listen in on Malfoy's conversation. His voice was low and as hard and as cold as carved ice.

'I expected service from you, Slager.' The man nodded his head jerkily. Dust clung to the sweat at his brow.

'Y-yes, my lord.'

'Do I have to tell you again?'

'No, My Lord. O-on the full moon, I promise.'

'Good. Toujours Pur, Mr. Slager.'

'Toujours Pur, My Lord.'

Draco Malfoy took a final look around the room, his eyes landing on Ginny. She quickly averted her gaze, fumbling with the last of her ingredients. Her eyes fluttered shut as she recited potions ingredients. She could feel him in her mind. Searching…searching…but finding nothing.

Relief washed over her as he strode out the door. She would have to thank Snape again for his aid in teaching her occlumency. It had proved itself invaluable time and time again.

'Can I help you with anything, Miss…?' asked the salesman suggestively, having regained his calm collectiveness upon Malfoy's exit.

'Just these, thank you.'

'To whom should I bill?'

'Let me see the bill first,' she ordered. Her eyes scanned over the calculations. The dirty cheating little slytherin. 'I wont pay that for the lacewings, nor for the Sargasso singfly. They are hardly, how would you say…rare.' She handed the paper back to Mr. Slager, saying, 'I will give you fourteen galleons for the lot.'

'How now, I simply cannot be allowing that. I have a business to run. I have children to feed, stock to purchase…'

'You have only a wife, no children. In fact, I would go so far as to say you were impotent. Do not lie to me. And do not presume that I care about your financial status. If you are doing business with the Malfoys, you have no shortage of capitol.' She raised an eyebrow, sneering. 'Now, am I going to give you my fourteen galleons, or shall I take my business to the continent? The Bulgarians get so snitchy if I choose the Germans over them.' Slager paled. If she could easily travel to the German traders, she must have influence…all the more reason to keep her on side.

'Of course, Ms.…what did you say you were called?'

'Fourteen galleons?'

'Of course.'

'Toujours Pur, Mr. Slager.'

'T-Toujours Pur.'

Leaving the apothecary, Ginny felt slightly ill. She had used the death eater's catch cry. Sure, it was designed to stop her form being captured or killed, but it was still a shock to the system. She hoped it was worth it…

Shakily, she made her way down Knockturn Alley, turning corners blindly. It was dark now, the only light coming from the few shops still legally open. She bumped into something, and received loud curses in return.

It was late. She had been gone five hours at least. The raid on the gathering at Malfoy Manor should be underway, and her heart clenched. Would they be all right? Would they all come home?

Mind firmly on her family, she decided to visit one of the bookstores. She only rarely got the chance to explore them, especially since they were filled to the brim with dark arts books…but it never hurt to know what the enemy was doing. There might even be something useful. And anyway, she was a potions mistress. If any field was connected to the dark arts, it was potions.

Hoisting her now heavy bag, she pushed open the door to the shop. If anything could distract her from the dangers of the night it would be some riveting, saucy potions book…

A couple of hours later, Ginny left the store, text in hand. There had been some truly fascinating, though gory, research done in Florence during the fifteenth century. An ancient wizard had apparently punished his would-be assassinators by feeding them a potion that melted their bodies onto the wall on which they were hung. You can still see the impression today, of three bodies, caught in their moment of death, forever…

Of course, for all his scheming, this wizard had been ruined financially; such ingredients did not come cheap.

The sky was truly dark now. Hurrying towards a secluded alley, Ginny pulled out her wand, and apparated into the foyer of Grimmauld Place.

This was not the Order HQ she had disapparated from. There was no one there. No one had returned yet. Was that a good thing? The worry prickled in her belly. Either they had captured many…or they were all dead. The thought made her blanch.

'Mum?' she called. 'Dad?'

Still no response.

Cautiously, she made her way down the hall, searching the rooms as she passed.

'Hello? HELLO? Is anyone here?'

'Ginevra?' Someone hissed. It sounded as if it were coming form the kitchen. 'Perfect timing.' She knew that voice.

'Severus?' she called as she burst through the kitchen door.

The sight that befell her took her breath away. Sitting on her counter was a tall man. His robes glistened in the candlelight, and his pale hair was streaked with red. Holding him upright was the potions professor. He had heard her come in, and, turning, welcomed her.

'Thank Merlin it is you and not some dunderheaded relative - '

Her gaze passed between the two men. 'Severus? Malfoy?'

'You! You're that girl - ' that girl? What girl? Oh, the appearance changes. Flicking her wand, her appearance returned to normal. Surprise lit Malfoy's face.

'A Weasley? The littlest Weasley. You're a healer right? How convenient. I seem to have had a little…accident.'

And with that, he collapsed forward, unconscious, onto the already-bloody potions professor.

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