Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to JKR - But am I allowed to say that evil Mcgonagall is mine?
Chapter 4
There is a traitor in the Order of the Phoenix. Minerva, of course, knows that it there is not one, but two. Herself, and Peter Pettigrew. She had to say, she was surprised when he approached them offering to pass on information.
They sat in the Longbottom's living room, the air thick with tension. Everyone was formulating their own opinions. Who could be the traitor?
" Who do you think, Minerva?" asked Dumbledore, bluntly, his blue eyes for once without his twinkle. Minerva narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips, surveying them all.
" Well, it's not you, Sirius. Your family are Death Eaters, and so it makes no sense. James, your wife is Muggle-born, if you joined, she would be killed. Not you, or Lily. Peter, I can't see any actual advantages that joining them would give you, Remus is smart enough to know that he would be treated even worse under their rule, and Frank and Alice wouldn't risk it, not whilst Alice is pregnant. Alastor's spent his entire life fighting the Death Eaters, so it's very unlikely, and Deadelus is Muggle-born. I know I'm not the traitor, " she lied, " So that leaves me with one question." Dumbledore looked at her quizzically. She looked him straight in the eyes. " Albus Dumbledore, are you secretly passing on information to You-Know-Who?"
Sirius fell off his chair laughing.
Minerva was the one everyone trusted. She was the one who everyone brought their problems to. She knew everything. She knew that Severus Snape had turned traitor, so together, she and Tom manipulated him into doing their bidding all the same. She knew the prophecy about either the Longbottom's, or the Potter's son, and so she and Tom made plans to kill the child. She knew that Dumbledore was the master of the Elder Wand, but this, she kept to herself, instead, placing her chess pieces so that, someday, the wand would fall into her own hands.
She walks down the darkened street. Dumbledore doesn't seem surprised to see her there. He assumes Hagrid has told her.
" Is it true, Albus? Lily and James?"
He sighs, and tells her what she already knew, from the moment the Horcrux in her wrist burnt. Tom has fallen. Only temporarily, of course, and she will easily manipulate some poor soul to bring him back. She looks down at the baby in her arms. She gasps aloud when she sees the scar in her forehead. Dumbledore is nattering some nonsense about a scar on his knee, and Hagrid is bawling loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood, as the blood roars in her ears, staring at the scar. The lightning shaped scar. Just like the one on her wrist.
She wonders if she should kill the boy now, whilst he lives with the Muggles, whilst he is not much of a threat. But no. Too few people know of the boy's location, and blame would fall at her feet eventually.
So she will wait, ten years, looking for ways to bring her husband back.
Minerva gently places the Sorting Hat on Harry Potter's head. It falls over his eyes, and he tenses up. Minerva narrows her eyes at the skinny boy with messy hair.
" GRYFFINDOR!" Yells the Hat.
With all the thunderous applause and cheers coming from the Gryffindor table, no one hears the Head of Gryffindor snort under her breath. Honestly. How utterly predictable.
Minerva whispers underneath her breath, her wand leaving emerald sparks hanging in the air, as the chess pieces groaned and shifted under her spells. The black king straightened his crown. The white pawns stretch, cracking their marble backs. The chess pieces bow to her, their queen. The others are all gaping at the massive stone figures who dominate the room.
" Why chess?" asks Dumbledore.
" Chess is a game of rules. You can't cheat. Chess is a game of pure skill. Besides," she grinned, " These chess pieces belonged to Godric Gryffindor himself. If you can defeat them, you probably deserve to go to the next room." She turned back to the pieces, and narrowed her eyes. " Win at any cost." She commands.
She, by accident, of course, neglected to mention was that,there was a passcode that would let you past the of course, she would never allow Quirrel to "overhear" her enchanting it. After all, only a Slytherin would do something like that - and, of course, everyone knows that Minerva Mcgonagall is as far from Slytherin as you can get.
They have finished enchanting each and every obstacle to protect the Stone. Minerva herself had pointed out that he could simply have used a secret keeper - she'd even offered to do it herself. It would have been much easier for her. Voldemort would have returned, Quirrel probably dead, and the staff would have found her bound, unconscious and "tortured" in her rooms - a foolproof plan. Except Dumbledore was a fool. And so here they were.
The Mirror of Erised stood before them, ornate frame glittering in the faint light. Each of the staff members took turns, stepping up in front of it. Dumbledore seemed pale, as he laughed it off, claiming he saw socks, and Severus looked as forlorn as a lost puppy. She could easily guess what they both saw. The others, she noticed, seemed particularly keen to know what she saw. How predictable.
She steps forward, and all previous resolutions to show no reactions are forgotten - her breath hitches, blood draining from her face. She reaches out, pressing her hand against the cold glass.
An eleven years old girl stares out of the mirror at her, holding the hand of a boy. They are smiling, completely at ease with one another. They both have dark hair, but he has dark brown eyes, whilst her eyes are bright green, like emeralds.
Minerva and Tom
Tom and Minerva.
Except no. She stares enviously at their matching silver and green tie, the snake crests, the emerald lining of their robes.
" What do you see?" Snape asks. Her cheeks feel suspiciously wet, and she wipes them surreptitiously on her sleeve.
" Just... something that might have been." She says, hating how weak she sounds, how her voice cracks ever so slightly, how they all look at her, confused, except Dumbledore, who thinks he knows. She wonders how they would react if they knew what she really saw. They would be shocked.
She is Minerva Mcgonagall, the Gryffindor, after all. But then again, only the best Slytherin's can pretend to be Gryffindors.
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