A/N – I know I've been getting these up pretty quickly, but today I'm leaving to go to my grandparents house for Thanksgiving, and I won't have access to a computer until I get back. No major cliffhangers this time, though, and I'll post Part Five when I get back on Saturday night or Sunday morning.
* * *
"The woman is useless, Master."
Antonin Dolohov watched the Dark Lord nervously. Voldemort's mouth twisted in anger. He had heard all about the methods his Death Eaters had used with the McGonagall woman and how none of them had worked. He had heard all about how she had fought the Imperius Curse and withstood the Cruciatus Curse and would not be turned to his side. He believed it of her. There were only handful of people living he could believe that of, and she was one of them. He had history with this woman, and he was beginning to think the easiest thing to do would be to kill her and have done with it.
"Snape!" Voldemort snapped. Severus Snape stepped forward from among his cronies. "I have a job for you. It will be your rite of passage, if you will, your coming of age as a Death Eater. When you have completed it I shall consider admitting you to my Inner Circle." He paused. Barely a breath stirred the room. Snape watched Voldemort with his black, expressionless eyes.
"You will kill Minerva McGonagall."
Snape's thoughts began to move very fast. He couldn't understand why Voldemort would want to kill Minerva McGonagall. She could be very useful. Snape knew all they had done to her; he had seen her iron resistance, and he knew that she could never be trusted as a Death Eater. He knew, too, that they had no chance of getting information out of her. But surely Voldemort come up with a use for her other than death? No doubt she could be used as a hostage, or to draw Albus Dumbledore into a trap.
"My Lord," Snape said smoothly, "surely we could find a better use for her."
"You will do as you're told, Snape," Voldemort hissed.
This is senseless violence, thought Snape; killing for the sake of killing. This is not an intelligent decision from an intelligent leader. This is a power-blinded man throwing a temper tantrum.
"But, Lord, surely she could be of use to trap Albus Dumbledore or some such. I don't think it advisable to kill her. It might anger Dumbledore in a way that would be very inconvenient for us."
Voldemort's mouth twisted in an unpleasant way reminiscent of Snape himself. "Obedience is a virtue you have not learned yet, Snape," he said softly. "But you will." He raised his wand. "Crucio!"
Snape collapsed in agony beyond anything he had ever imagined. He had never screamed before in his life that he could remember, but he was screaming now, and Voldemort was laughing. The other Death Eaters were laughing too, but it was much more forced. Snape, however, didn't notice anything other than the desperate need to stop the pain.
"I will," he cried.
The pain ceased. Snape drew in a shuddering breath, gathered himself up, and stood.
Voldemort looked satisfied. "You are very teachable, Snape," he said, still laughing. Snape's muscles were rigid with the after-affects of the Cruciatus Curse. "If I may be excused," he hissed, and fled the room.
He ran down the hall, Voldemort's laughter following him, pushed open a door and bolted through it, slamming it behind him. He fell on his knees in a corner and was violently sick. Hot tears had started to his eyes, and he bit them back, cursing his weakness.
After a moment he heard a small sound from behind him. He whirled around and beheld Minerva McGonagall, in filthy, torn and stained robes, her face streaked with dirt and tears. She was no longer chained to the wall, but she held herself in such a way that it was obvious she was in pain, and there was a gash on her face that had laid her cheek open to the bone.
Snape instantly felt more ashamed then ever. They had put this woman through a hundred times what he had felt, and still she had not given in, where he had. He was a coward, plain and simple.
"What have they done to you?" Minerva asked him. Her voice was harsh and wary.
"I don't see that it's your business," Snape said shortly. "I'm no longer your responsibility." He shook himself and left the room for his own apartment.
"Haven't they made any progress at all?" Poppy Pomfrey asked her husband. "Don't they even have any theories?"
"Poppy, if Albus has any theories, he's keeping them to himself, and he's not acting on them very quickly. I think for once he's a clueless as we are."
Poppy looked at Peter in despair. "Peter, if they don't find her – can you imagine what they're putting her through?"
"I can imagine," Peter said grimly.
"They're probably torturing her for information, and if she doesn't give it, they'll kill her, but if she does – what if they try to turn her to their side?"
"She won't go," Peter comforted. "She won't give away any information."
"But Peter, do you know what they do to people?"
"They'll use the Cruciatus Curse, most likely. But Minerva's intelligent enough to make something up if she can't stand the torture anymore. Though she's also smart enough to know that they'll kill her when they find out she gave them false information. I don't think she'll make anything up."
"But how will she be able to stand the torture? Oh, Peter, I shall go crazy here worrying about her. We've got to do something!"
"There's nothing we can do without information, Poppy. Come on, come to bed. Put Minerva out of your mind until tomorrow. Worrying about her isn't going to help anything."
"But I can't help it." Poppy bit her lip. Peter put his arms around her comfortingly.
"I know."
Snape did not sleep that night. He was ashamed of his inability to tolerate the Cruciatus Curse, especially after seeing Minerva McGonagall's resistance to it. But more than that, he loathed the idea of killing. He was not sure if he could bring himself to take another's life. Well, certainly he could kill if it was the last option, and an intelligent decision, but this was senseless.
His mind was working furiously, trying to find a plan for Minerva other than death. It hit him around four o'clock in the morning, and by the time he would normally have been waking up, it was fully fleshed out.
He approached the Dark Lord after breakfast. This in itself was something not many Death Eaters would do. Snape might have a low tolerance for pain, but he was no coward, whatever he thought of himself.
"My Lord," he said smoothly, bowing, "I have been thinking about your orders to kill Minerva McGonagall. I – "
"Yours is not to question why – yours is to do or die," Voldemort growled.
"But Lord, I believe that she would be more useful if we sent her back to Hogwarts, under the Imperius Curse, to poison Albus Dumbledore."
There was silence for a moment as Voldemort absorbed this, then he said, "I thought she fought the Imperius Curse."
"She did," Snape answered him. "But in the beginning. I believe she is too weak to fight it now."
Voldemort nodded. "Perhaps. Yes, there may be something in what you say, Snape. I want the Imperius Curse put on her, to test her. Then return to me and tell me of the results. If it works then we will discuss this further."
It transpired that Minerva was indeed too weak to fight the Imperius Curse. Voldemort was informed of this, and he agreed to Snape's plan. He ordered Snape to concoct a deadly potion, and Minerva was set free under the Imperius Curse and sent back to Hogwarts with the poison and a story.
* * *
"Minerva!"
Albus ran down the front steps and enveloped her in his arms, cradling her face against his shoulder, almost crying with relief.
"Oh, Minerva," he said brokenly. "How – "
Just then there was a shriek from behind them, and Poppy came flying down the steps and flung her arms around both Albus and Minerva at once.
"Minerva, you're back – oh, I was so worried – are you all right – " Peter came up behind her and pulled her away from Albus and Minerva, and the former released the latter, who was shaking.
"Albus – Poppy – Peter," she said. "It's so good to see you. I thought – I thought I'd never see you again."
Poppy began to usher Minerva up to the hospital wing. "How on earth did you get away from them?"
"I don't remember," Minerva said, limping slowly up the steps. "I don't remember a thing – I can't even remember much of what happened to me there."
"Tell me what you can remember," Albus said urgently. "Where are they? Do you know?"
"Albus, she needs to rest and heal," Poppy said severely.
"I'm sorry, Poppy, but this is more important. You can heal her while she talks. What do you remember, Minerva?"
Minerva sat down on a bed in the hospital wing and Poppy began bustling around and patching her up. Albus was glad that the first thing she did was clean and heal the gruesome gash on Minerva's cheek, because it had been making him feel slightly ill to look at it.
"I can't remember them taking me," Minerva said slowly and hoarsely, "I can't remember anything clearly. I can only remember waking up chained to the wall in a room, and I remember being questioned, but I didn't tell them anything, and that's about all." She yawned widely, exhaustion engraved on every feature. Albus relented.
"Well, perhaps it will come back. Have you finished, Poppy? She needs a shower and a change of clothes, I think, and perhaps some food before bed."
"Yes, I've finished. I'll take her up to her room."
Minerva could not eat, but she did wash and change before falling into a deep sleep with Poppy sitting on the bed beside her, for comfort.
"There's something different about her; I don't like it."
"Of course there's something different about her, Albus, do you expect her to come back from Voldemort's stronghold and be perfectly normal and okay? She's been through hell and it'll take her a while to get over it."
Albus sighed. "I suppose you're right Peter. But it still hurts to see her like this."
"I know it does. It hurts me too." This time it was Poppy who responded. All three of them were sitting by Minerva's beside as she slept. Albus sighed again.
"Go and get some sleep, you two. I'll stay here for a bit."
Peter nodded understandingly. "Come, Poppy." Poppy looked uncertainly at her friend, then followed Peter from the room, leaving Albus alone with the battered, tortured woman on the bed, who lay as if totally unconscious. He pulled the crumpled photograph out of his pocket and looked down at it. The photographic Minerva smiled and waved at him, and he bit the inside of his lip. He looked at the woman on the bed and then back at the girl in the photo. The girl looked so innocent, and this woman before him . . . As Peter had said, she had been through hell, and looked it. She looked as if nothing could surprise her anymore. It was a heart-wrenching transformation.
"God, Minerva, I was so frightened," Albus whispered, though she did not hear it. "I'm not sure if I've ever been so frightened, or so worried. I thought I'd never see you again alive." He took her hand from where it lay limply on the bed and held it in both of his own. "I hope you remember what happened, but then again I hope you don't. But remember it or not, I will do my best to help you through this, and I promise I will protect you better in the future."