Prologue





I should start from the beginning. But, when did this all started I do not know. How do you start a story that tells of you family's turmoil? How can you know for sure what really was the beginning of it all? Maybe it was a punishment for a sin long ago committed and forgotten. Maybe a destiny, but I don't believe in such things. Better said, I do not wish to believe that I'm not in control over my life. But can I honestly say that I did control the events that followed the rise of the Dark Lord? Am I just fooling myself to feel better, to not feel responsible for my weakness that, I trust, have caused all this pain. I should have been wiser, I should have known better, should have seen it all coming. But I failed. I, who above all cherished knowledge, intellect and logic fell into a trap like a foolish girl thinking I can't be outwitted, so sure that I've passed all the obstacles in my way and avoided all snares. I failed to protect a child I've sworn to always love and care for. I failed not one, but two men I've loved. I was defeated at my own game. I, Minerva McGonagall, named after the Greek goddess of wisdom, one of the most praised minds of today's wizarding world, successfully transfigurated myself into a foolish butterfly flying around the candle totally unaware of the danger. I failed, and I will regret my foolishness for as long I shall live.







Chapter #1; Past sins, present lies





"Minnie, please don't go." ten year old boy pleadingly yelled through tears after a tall girl. She instantly turned and smiled warmly at the boy.

"Leo, I have to go. You know that." she reached for the boy's face and tenderly dried his tears.

"But why..", cried the boy again, "why can't you pause this year so we could go to Hogwarts next year together?"

She was almost crying now, too. But she resisted the urge to cry and gave the boy her soon-to-be-famous stern look; "We discussed this ten times already!" She never allowed herself to cry in front of him, she haven't cried since their mother died ten years ago bringing her brother to this world. He was crying desperately then like he already knew about dark shadows that are waiting for him on his path. His cry pierced her heart then like it did now but, as always, she knew her part and played it well.

"Merlin, give me strength for both of us!" a quick thought crossed her mind. "If I stay with you now then next year one of us cannot go to Hogwarts. The money our father has left us is running pretty low, dear. I must go now and finish my education so I can get a job and start to pay off our debts. And besides, I am the Head Girl, I have a numerous other responsibilities as well."

"Other responsibilities that are more important than me?" whined the boy quietly lowering his head in defeat.

Swallowing hard she tried to force down the lump in her throat, unsuccessfully. "Nothing is more important to me than you, did you hear me!" again she cradled his small face in her hands. "Nothing, don't you ever forget that. I am doing this for you, and for you alone. Now, be good to Mrs Gibbs and I promise I'll write to you every single day." The Hogwarts Express was starting to leave so she kissed her brother quickly on the forehead and jumped on the leaving train. Through the window in her prefect's compartment she could see her little brother trying to wrestle himself out of Mrs Gibbs' arm and run after the train. She waved him until he became nothing more than a small black spot in the distance.





Only then, in the loneliness of her compartment, did she allow her thoughts to wander a little before she would take over her duties. She saw only her own face in the window now. With her big, beady eyes and long hair neatly placed in braids she looked almost like a worryless child. But a child she wasn't. In fact, she could hardly remember was she ever a child. At the age of seven her newly born brother and she became orphans. True, their father was still alive, but only just. It took him another ten years to die of his own hand but he was dead long ago before that. He died with his wife, on the night her brother was born and none of his two children were enough to pull him out of the abyss of his despair.





Sudden fierce hatred filled her hearth and she clenched her hands into tight fists. "Damn you, Father! I hope you're rotting in Hell for what you did to Leo, for what you did to ME!" she hissed at her own reflection. "And damn you a hundred times more for giving me your appearance so I have to remember your cowardice every time I look into the mirror." She abruptly turned her head from the window not to look at herself any more. She hated being desperate, hated being out of control and hated the responsibility she was forced to take so early in her life. And, above all, she hated herself for letting her father's mistakes hurt her so badly.





A quiet sob tried to escape her lips but she pressed them tightly together. The McGonagall women were always strong and she was determined she would live up to that reputation.





* * *





"Funny how this old memories come back uninvited to haunt you when you least expect them to." Professor Minerva McGonagall mentally shook herself out of this pointless reverie and returned her attention to the meeting she had with the inner circle of newly found Order of the Phoenix.

"Three desperate people in the most desperate time of all", treacherous little voice whispered from the back of her mind. "What difference can we make?"





* * *

That evening was a nightmare. No, worse than a mere nightmare. After all, a nightmare is nothing more than a product of a disturbed mind, but this...this was true. A reality at its worst.





As soon as Severus Snape apparated in the dungeons of the Malfoys Manor he realised how huge was the mistake to come here. It was a suicide. "And a rather painful one, I can expect", he could not suppress his famous sarcasm. "Severus, if you're ready...if you're prepared..", echoed Dumbledore's voice in his head. And the echo of his own voice returned, "Yes, headmaster."

"Hell yes. I'm not prepared, not for this I'm not!", desperate voice he could barely recognise as his own retorted before he could do anything to stop it. "Minerva was against this whole plan right from the start. She needn't to say so out loud, it was plastered all over her face." But Headmaster and he himself had won the argument. He was always good in that, persuading other people to do what he wanted them to do.

"Well this is what I bargained for, is it not? The redemption at last although I'm not going to stick around to whiteness it." he thought bitterly as he watched Lucius Malfoy, wearing his usual trademark sneer, approach him across the room.

"Oi, Sevvie, old chap! Just in time. You've missed the party last time and, I must say, our Lord wasn't pleased. No, he wasn't pleased at all!" he grinned evilly at Severus who didn't do as much as blink at very poorly hidden threat.

"I'll do the explaining when and if the Dark Lord arrives. He didn't actually made YOU his deputy so you'll excuse me for not giving apologies for my absence to you." Severus responded with silky voice, his most dangerous one.

"Well, while you're waiting in anticipation may I offer you something that'll, I'm sure, ease your worries a little bit?", Lucius asked, false servility in his voice. "An entertainment, a small gift from our Lord. Unfortunately, you will have to share it with our loyal followers as well...ah, yes, here it is!" he gestured triumphally toward the two hooded Death Eaters carrying a young woman. It was hard to tell even what her normal hair colour was and how did she look like was impossible even to presume. Her naked body was covered in bruises and blood, her hair a wild tangle plastered over her face and half closed eyes. She was bleeding from many wounds, shivering violently, still alive but only just.

"Well...What do you say?"Lucius exclamated happily and strode off to the girl. He, then, grabbed her by the hair, violently yanked her head up and forced her to look him in the eyes. And her eyes...Severus barely suppressed a shiver and tried hardly not to show his horror as Lucius continued like he was chatting about foul weather. Looking into her eyes was like looking into endless pools of despair and pain, the same expression he saw in the mirror every morning. Her eyes pleaded for mercy, pleaded for death to come and put an end to her suffering.





As he looked into her eyes he was able to catch only little peaces of what Lucius was saying.

"...Minerva and Dumbledore...", hearing this two names had the effect of icy cold water on his troubled mind.

"What did you say, Lucius?" he spat acidly while sickening feeling he felt from the moment the girl was brought intensed. This was a test, if he was never sure about anything in his life, he was sure about that.

"I was saying", responded Lucius slowly like he was explaining that two and two made four to a dumb child, "that this piece of filth", there he stopped to spit in the girl's face like he could disgrace her even more, "that this pitiful excuse of a witch is our Lords very special gift to that old Muggle- loving goat Dumbledore and his slut of a deputy Minerva. Can you imagine...Minerva's own daughter, the last descendant of once pure and proud McGonagall family, raised as a filthy Muggle! Maybe He would allow us to deliver her in peaces, I would like that. That would show that bastard...".

"Enough!" Snape interrupted, not being able to bear maniacal glitter in Lucius' eyes. "You're a fool, Malfoy! Minerva has no children. And if she had any, she would definitely raise them to be wizards. Even a Gryffindor, as much I despise them, wouldn't be so stupid to leave his child defenceless." But a sickening feeling prevented him to believe in his own words. For a second he saw Lucius' confidence shake a little bit.

"Be that as it may, the Dark Lord specifically asked for this girl. Now, do you intent to use your turn with the girl or...maybe, you're not what you pretend to be."

"I never cared for the petty, idiotic activities of yours that you call entertainment", acid poured from Snape's mouth but his eyes never left hers. "Do with her as you please, kill her if that'll make you happy or mate with her", his lips curled at last three words, "I couldn't care less, just don't force me to enjoy it too long", he finished still not leaving her eyes, now filled not just with terror but with hatred as well. He concentrated on hatred, it was familiar ground, he's seen it oh-so-many times, first in the eyes of his own victims and later in the eyes of his students. Very slowly, he returned his gaze at Lucius who turned and busied himself with the girl.





Idle expression Severus' face, as he watched Lucius exhibit his perversities, couldn't be further than the storm that raged in his head. "It can't be...Minerva never...she wouldn't keep it a secret, surely...", his mind raced like a wild stallion. Incoherent thoughts raced through his mind, and then, all of the sudden, formed one, crystalline pure thought, "I need to get her out, now."





Later on, he would try hardly to explain as well to the others as he would try to himself, what caused this decision. Was this death the drop that made his cup overflow? What did one more death mean to a man who has seen hundreds more horrible deaths, many innocent people die, many women tortured and raped, whole families slaughtered? What could one death among so many others mean to him? What was so special about this particular woman that forced him to jeopardise his role as a spy? Maybe it was a sudden realisation that his masks fell off revealing him as a turncoat, as a traitor. Maybe it was an intense sickening feeling he got after hearing about her purpose as "a gift". Or maybe it was the abyss of desperation and resignation he saw in her eyes, the expression he knew too well.





What ever it was, the moments that followed became clouded, like he was walking through a very thick mist only he could see. Next thing he knew, Severus found himself next to Lucius with his wand pointed at him. A second later he landed on the edge of the Forbidden Forest clutching the limp body of Voldemort's monstrous gift. Hogwarts, his shelter, the only home he knew where too soon his worst fears would be confirmed.