A/N: Thankyou very much to my lovely reviewers!

Life was reasonably normal for a long time. Apart from a daily disillusionment charm on the ring, Ginny paid it no mind. Her parents were happy with a small amount of money from her account every fortnight when she was paid, and Ginny was secretly amused that the Malfoy estate was funding her parents' lifestyle.

Being a waitress in the Leaky Cauldron, however, carried risks. One night, she was sure she served Severus Snape, though she never knew for sure, as he was shrouded in a thick black cloak with the hood pulled low over his face. He was alone, but she got the impression he was waiting for someone. After serving him his drink she rushed away, hoping he didn't recognise her. She didn't want to think about the company he kept, nor risk being kidnapped if he thought she knew who he was.

He was back again the night after that. And the night after that. Every night for a fortnight, Snape sat in a dark corner, watching the door. Ginny avoided him as much as possible, but she was the only waitress on Wednesday evenings, so she had to bustle around him, her breath catching in her throat every time she got too close.

She was reaching across the table to pick up his dirty plate and mug when his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Now she could see his black eyes staring at her, boring into her face. She tried to pull away, tried to make a scene, but found she could do neither – she was frozen like a pygmy puff in a spotlight.

"What is this?" Snape hissed, shaking her hand – her left hand, she realised, her stomach sinking. She shook her head, because her throat refused to let any sound out.

"I believe this is the Malfoy heirloom ring?" Still she could say nothing. Her hands were trembling, and she had to prop herself against the table to not fall over.

"Oh, stop quivering, girl," Snape snapped at her, thrusting her hand away. "Sit down, I want to know how you got in."

It took Ginny five seconds to realise that Snape wasn't going to murder her on the spot. She sank into the chair opposite him, still terrified. Snape was looking at her bemusedly, an eyebrow raised, waiting for her to talk.

After a small stutter, Ginny managed to begin talking. "I… I researched the estate, and as long as I'm a pureblood, I'm fine… can't apparate within five hundred metres of the buildings, can't use a levitation charm so I scaled the walls, was very careful to identify the guard charms on the window, found what I wanted, replaced the charms, climbed back down the wall, ran the five hundred metres, apparated to my bedroom, took an untraceable charm off my wand."

Snape sat watching her with his black eyes while Ginny caught her breath. His face was blank, and Ginny wondered what he was waiting for. On a closer inspection, however, she noticed that he wasn't really looking at her – more looking through her. Thinking. Oh. Looking down at the table – stained by ale and worn smooth by many a customer – Ginny waited.

"How long did you plan for your burglary?" He asked, looking at her again. Ginny counted up the time.

"About six months. Got the plans for the building from the Ministry, studied guard charms, got fit, researched the Malfoy treasure and picked an item that I would be able to find…" She trailed off, seeing that Snape wasn't looking at her any longer.

Curious, Ginny asked, "why do you want to know, sir?"

Snape blinked. "That is none of your business, Miss Weasley. And I remind you that at any point I could report you to Mr Malfoy, since I believe that the ring you have on your finger is not removable except by way of death."

Ginny narrowed her eyes, leant closer to Snape over the table, her fear channelling into anger. "You could. But you won't. Because, for some reason, you want something from Malfoy as well. And he won't give it to you freely."

Snape snatched the front of her robes, pulled her close enough to smell his sour breath. "I could charm you right now, and you'd never know any different, never know that you'd given away this information. I could remove the entire incident from you, and you'd barely blink."

"But you won't," Ginny hissed, pushing her nose even closer to Snape, almost touching him; "for the same reason that you didn't just take the information you wanted from my head. You can, but you won't."

Snape held her there for a moment longer, glaring, before he thrust her back into her chair. "You know nothing about it," Snape hissed, but he couldn't quite meet her gaze.

Ginny sat across from him for a while, emboldened by her victory, studying what she could see of him. He was thin – thinner than he had even been a Hogwarts, and the lines on his face seemed scored into his skin. His eyes were sunk deep into his face, and the skin beneath them was darkened from lack of sleep and good nutrition. His robe was black, but worn at the elbows and spotted from spills that he hadn't cared to spell clean.

"You won't be able to get onto the estate. You're half-blood, aren't you?" Ginny asked, and the snarl she received in return was enough answer for her. "Tell me what you want."

Snape finally met her eyes again, and Ginny wondered what he was thinking – his black, soulless eyes giving nothing away. "For a fee, I'll get whatever you want."

"And you'll stick it on your person and be unable to remove it?" Snape hissed, and Ginny felt her face colour. Refusing to be cowed, Ginny bared her teeth at him.

She earned herself a short barking laugh from Snape, who seemed to relax a little. "I have no money to pay you with. The… political climate has not been kind to me, as it seems it has not been kind to you."

"Or my family," Ginny added under her breath, but Snape didn't seem to hear, as he kept talking.

"I would be willing to work towards getting that thing," he indicated to her left hand, which was still sitting on the table, "removed, or at least properly invisible." Ginny snatched her hand off the table and shoved it into her lap where Snape couldn't see it. His sneer was returned with a glare.

"What you want is profitable?" Ginny asked shortly, feeling uncomfortably strange speaking on an almost equal level with a man she had always known as an authority figure.

"Perhaps," he replied, with what Ginny assumed Snape thought to be an air of mystery. She snorted, earning herself another glare.

"I want ten percent of whatever profit you make from it."

"One percent." Ginny peered at Snape's face, trying to gauge how much profit he was actually intending to make from the item she was going to steal.

"Ten percent, or you can go get it yourself."

Snape glared at her, making her feel like a schoolgirl again. But Ginny had survived six older brothers, and knew when she could win an argument or a bargain. She set her jaw and waited. Snape, fuming, glared at the door behind her, then returned his gaze to the redhead.

"Ten percent," he agreed.

"In writing," Ginny pushed, and Snape – glaring – nodded his head. "I accept your proposition. Now, what am I stealing?"

Snape glanced around, then leaned closer to her. "The paradise pearls."