Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own anything that deals with Harry Potter.
A/N: I am sorry for the delay, but I have been busier than ever and I have barely been able to sleep without feeling exhausted!
Minerva woke at six-fifteen the next morning, that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was to marry him today and she was scared. She was scared that she would not wake up every morning to the smell of lemon drops, but rather to a musty smell. Every morning, from now until she died, she would be forced to wake up in the rough, harsh snare of Lord Voldemort, and not the soft, gentle touch of Albus Dumbledore.
There was a timid knock on her door which interrupted her depressing thoughts. Minerva sat up, feeling confused. Who could be knocking on her door at this hour? That was not Voldemort's powerful knock.
"Come in," she squeaked. The door opened and a shy little house elf entered, a platter carefully balanced in both hands.
"So sorry if Teeny has disturbed your sleep, ma'am," she said timidly, walking over to the bed. "But my master told me I was to serve you an early breakfast, so you could begin preparing yourself for the wedding. She now stood next to Minerva, tray in hands. Minerva offered a weak smile, and then looked down at her hands.
"That is very kind of you to have troubled yourself so, but I'm afraid I am not hungry." Teeny set down the tray and jumped onto the bed.
"Forgive Teeny if she is prying, but is Minerva McGonagall nervous?" she asked. Minerva looked at her sorrowfully.
"Yes, I am nervous," she half admitted.
"Don't be nervous, ma'am," said Teeny. "Teeny will be right there by your side. Master has given me specific orders to act as your matron of honor. Such an honor, it is. Teeny swears, ma'am, that she will do her absolute best to make this day a most memorable one." Minerva attempted another weak smile.
"I'm sure you will, Teeny," she said.
"Well, Teeny needs to go now, ma'am. See you at noon, ma'am." With that, the small house elf left, leaving Minerva once again alone with her thoughts.
"Lucius, you do realize how important this day is, don't you?" drawled Voldemort as he looked at himself in his full length mirror. He thought he looked stunning in his new tuxedo.
"Yes, milord," Lucius replied.
"And you do know that everything has to be just perfect, don't you?" inquired Voldemort, fixing his shirt so it was perfectly creased.
"Yes, milord," Lucius answered once again.
"Good," said Voldemort, now looking at him. "Because if one thing goes wrong, I'll have your head on a platter. Understood?"
"Yes, milord," said Lucius, bowing his head and then looking back at Voldemort.
"Good," smiled Voldemort, turning back to the mirror. "You may leave me." With the wave of his hand, Lucius bowed once more and made his exit.
The day started slowly, but began to pick up speed around ten o' clock, and soon, it was 11:30. In just thirty minutes, Minerva would be walking down the isle. Voldemort had changed his dining area into a small chapel, the giant arch right in front of the fireplace.
"Minerva McGonagall must not despair, ma'am. Never despair," pleaded Teeny, stroking Minerva's hair. They were in her room, and the small house elf had bee brushing Minerva's hair when the saddened witch began to cry softly, her hands holding her face.
"I cannot help it, Teeny," sobbed Minerva. "I'm being forced into a marriage with a man I want nothing to do with. I'm doomed to live the rest of my life as Mrs. Voldemort and not Mrs. Albus Dumbledore."
"Teeny is sorry, ma'am," said Teeny sorrowfully. "Teeny wishes she could help, ma'am. But Teeny is only a lowly house elf, but Minerva McGonagall has told Teeny Albus Dumbledore has promised to come and save her. Albus Dumbledore will, won't he?"
"I do hope so, Teeny," sniffed Minerva. "I do hope so." She composed herself once more and, using magic to pull up her hair, turned to her wedding dress, which lay on her bed. She had to get ready.
The organ blasted the wedding march as Minerva walked with dignity and grace down the isle. Her wedding dress was silk, clung to her body, and fell off the shoulders. Her veil was short in the front and long in the back.
As she walked down the isle, a million questions raced through her mind. Where was Albus? What was taking so long? Would he make it on time to save her? And there, right in front of her, thirty feet in front of her, was the man she was doomed to marry, should Albus not show up.
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when she felt an arm loop through hers, and someone was right next to her. By the look on Voldemort's face before it happened, it was an unwanted visitor. Minerva turned to her left and gasped.
"Albus?" she breathed.
"Hello, my dear," he smiled.
"Thank goodness, Albus. Now get me outta here."
"All in due time, my dear. All in due time." Minerva couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something different about Albus. She didn't have time to hover on it, though, for long. They were now ten feet from where Voldemort stood, and had impeccable hearing. Albus kissed Minerva on her hand and sat down on a nearby chair. Minerva walked, a little more comforted this time, to where Voldemort stood.
"Darling," he muttered angrily. "What is HE doing here?"
"You invited him," Minerva shot back. Voldemort made to comment when the man conducting the wedding began his usual ritual. When he asked if there were any objections, Albus pointedly stood and said,
"I do!" Minerva looked at him; happy at first, then she looked worriedly at Voldemort, anger clear on his face.
"Sit down, old man," he grumbled.
"I just want my say," Albus replied simply. "I have loved Minerva for so many years, I've lost count. I am not about to let her marry someone with no morals. Sure, she can definitely do better than me, but I can't let her do worse." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Voldemort. Voldemort chuckled in his throat.
"How reckless, Albus," he snickered. In one swift movement, his wand was also out, pointed at Albus. "Do you really think you could defeat me and save the girl?"
"I will or I'll die trying," said Albus. "Racindo!" A bolt of light blasted from his wand. Voldemort had barely enough time to block it. This went on for some time and by the time Minerva had thought to grab her wand, a flying spell sped by her face and hit Albus in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Voldemort flew to him, Minerva running to his side, and placed his foot on the wounded area.
"Do you give up, Albus?" he asked smugly. Minerva sat beside him, tears welling up in her eyes.
"I do," was the raspy response. "But Albus doesn't." Voldemort looked at him, confused.
"What did you say?" asked Voldemort.
"You heard me," said Albus. "I give up, but Albus Dumbledore never will!" There was a strange glow about him, and as he glared defiantly at his enemy, the form of Albus Dumbledore began to disappear and there, on the floor, laid the figure of...
"You!" gasped Voldemort.
"Me!" replied Severus Snape, a smile spread on his thin lips. "And I'm not alone. NOW!" Voldemort looked around in time to see Teeny, the house elf, transform into the real Albus Dumbledore and head his way.
"Crucio!" Albus cried. The spell grazed Voldemort's ear, searing pain throughout his entire body.
"Brings a new meaning to Scar head, now, doesn't it?" came a voice. Voldemort's head shot up to see Harry Potter, flying above him.
Potter!" he cried.
"Well, well, Tom," sneered Minerva, standing up and staring at him. "The question, it seems, is do you give up?" Voldemort glared at her.
"... Never! Death eaters, ATTACK! Malfoy, get your arse in here!"
A/N2: What will happen? You'll have to wait till the next chapter to find out. Hope you enjoyed that chapter. I know I sometimes have the worse cliffhangers, but that's how it goes. I would thank you to leave a contribution in the little box! Always Hopeful