Grindelwald was…
Minerva couldn't exactly explain what she felt or saw as she, quite accidentally indeed, looked straight into the great Dark Wizard's eyes.
His eyes were black. That at least was a fact; his eyes were a deep kind of black. The color of deep, of bottomless lakes. An endless darkness- and yet. There was something else in them- something even Minerva, intelligent, witty Minerva could not really define.
Before she quickly lowered her eyes again, she permitted herself one last, small, hidden glance at him. His hair immediately struck her. It was- a kind of dark red, but not the usual sort of red. It was as if it had once been the same, dark color as his eyes, but as if it had- rusted… Yes. That was exactly the way it looked, as if long age had turned deep darkness into something softer. Softer- more fiery. It was a queer color indeed, yet Minerva logically assumed it was natural. Well, what else could it be? The Darkest Lord ever -since Salazar Slytherin himself, perhaps- did probably not dye his hair.
"Look at me." the- man?- said, and Minerva gratefully, yet more hesitant than she'd expected, obeyed.
His face was very pale, and his pronounced cheekbones threw darker shadows on it. Grindelwald, in fact, looked strangely cold. Not the coldness of death, though. Oh no, Grindelwald was very much alive indeed.
The coldness, of…
And for the very first time in her life, Minerva felt deep fear. Deep, profound fear, fear for Grindelwald. Because suddenly, she'd realized that this person was no idiot.
Well, what had she expected, after all?
This was the wizard who had managed to take over the entire world in five years; of course he wasn't an idiot.
Yet, he still was somehow more- impressive than Minerva had ever expected him to be. Darker. Cleverer. More- more addictive.
Minerva gazed into his eyes and understood why so many people had given their lives for him.
Minerva gazed into his eyes and was lost.
But not for long.
After what felt like hours, but in fact could be hardly more than wee seconds, Minerva fell on her knees before the Dark Lord.
"Milord." she muttered, bowing her head. Her black hair, which she wore loosely now, fell in front of her face and she was secretly thankful it did. It was more difficult than she'd expected it to be to keep her composure. She, who could always, under all circumstances, maintain that very own appearance of determinedness that was her own…
But here- here was a wizard who was intelligent. Evil, but intelligent.
Yet.
If he was intelligent, then she had to be more intelligent.
If he was sly, then she had to be more sly.
Her brains had always been her strength, after all.
Grindelwald looked down on her, then curled his thin lips into a devious smile.
"Miss McGonagall. The daughter of, I suppose?"
Minerva's head almost snapped up. Only with the greatest difficulty she managed to control herself. He still remembered her parents? Well, of course he did, she reprimanded herself. Why wouldn't he, after all?
"And, Minerva McGonagall, why does such a smart girl -as you, considering who your parents were, definitely are- come to me? Because after all, I consider it now my unpleasant task to kill you."
He had uttered those words in such a cold, such a hard tone, then he make a faint gesture with his left hand and a wizard strode forward.
Minerva's heart banged like hell, yet she, seemingly calm, answered
"I have come to join you, Milord. I've got information which I think could be of a certain use to you."
Grindelwald raised his hand again, and let his eyes dwell freely over her kneeled body. Minerva shivered, yet bit her lips.
"Alright. You have two minutes to explain me. After all…" He grinned.
"Why should I deny such a pretty little thing those wee minutes of my time?"
Minerva felt like vomiting again, but knew nonetheless this was something included in her task. To oppress feelings of slight sickness was a needed sacrifice for her. A needed sacrifice in order to save the world.
She opened her mouth and talked quickly, talked determinedly.
"Thursday morning, 8 o'clock, a large amount of gold- thousands of galleons- that belongs to the Ministry will be transported. They are doing it in broad daylight, so as not to arouse suspicions. Only two wizards will be guarding it."
Grindelwald raised his eyebrows and smiled his sly grin once more.
"Good, Miss McGonagall. Assuming it is true- what keeps me from killing you now?"
Minerva raised her chin and spoke clearly
"The fact that I know where it will happen and you do not."
To her great surprise, the Dark Lord nodded approvingly, extended his hand and helped Minerva to stand up.
"Really a clever one, aren't you, little Miss McGonagall? I can appreciate cleverness- at least, I can appreciate it in a beautiful young woman."
He allowed his eyes once more to slide along her figure, and smiled again, pointing at a low chair opposite his larger one.
"Sit down and tell me the truth. Why have you come here? Perhaps you have come to join me, perhaps you haven't, but there must be a reason anyway. Last time I heard of you, you were Albus Dumbledore's little love-struck pupil. What has happened since then?"
He talked to her like old friends did, Minerva noticed, and she almost knew for sure it was a trick. She really wasn't that blind. Trying to gain her confidence he was. He wouldn't succeed though. Not as long as her name was Minerva Jean McGonagall.
And it was.
Yet, she knew she needed all her courage now. For this was the hardest part.
"I," she began, trying to look straight into his eyes. She found it extremely hard, though.
"I have, first of all, never been in love with Albus Dumbledore."
First lie.
"Milord, the reason I have come to you is a simple one. I believe that you are right. My parents were wrong. I didn't realize that back then, but now, I know they were wrong and I even- I even know it was probably necessary to eliminate them."
Minerva heard the tears in her voice, as did Grindelwald. Luckily, he interpreted them the wrong way.
"I understand that is a hard thought to you, Miss McGonagall, but I am glad you appear to realize it was inevitable."
Minerva bit her lips and nodded, yet sent a silent prayer up above to her parents, begging them to forgive her, as she went on.
"Yes, I do understand that. I love them for they were my parents, but I hate them for their stupid stubbornness, which caused their own deaths. And that is why I came to you. Because, even though you made me an orphan, you gave me the chance to find out who was right and who was wrong. After school, I enrolled Auror training, but now I've quit it. I've broken with them all. Albus Dumbledore loves me, but I do not love him back. I hate him."
Second, third, fourth… up to perhaps sixtieth lie…
Now only was the question- would Lord Grindelwald believe it? She knew she had told it credibly- hard, but with still an undertone of humanity. But would he… or not?
With a slightly more grim expression on his face, Grindelwald stood up.
"I believe you or I don't believe you, Miss McGonagall. We shall see. You will stay here until Thursday. If your information is correct, you can stay here and I will consider you one of us. If your information is incorrect…"
He hollowly laughed, and Minerva felt her hands tremble. If only Alastor had made sure there would actually *be* a transport of gold… But she could only pray now.
"But now, firstly, tell me the place."
She had no choice. She now just had to trust him. But, she thought bitterly, did anyone realize how hard it was to trust your life to someone who had murdered your parents?
Yet, in a soft voice, she told him the carefully learnt by heart address.
He nodded.
"I sincerely hope it is correct. It would be such a pity to murder something so sweet."
He glanced at her once more. Minerva totally refused to look him in the eye.
"Meia!"
He had hardly pronounced the name, or there the door went open and a small, frail-looking young woman entered. Her skin was white and her light grey eyes were lowered in a very submissive way.
"Bring Miss McGonagall to one of the spare rooms."
"Very well, my Lord." the woman answered in a soft, trembling tone. She turned to Minerva.
"Follow me, please."
And Minerva obeyed.
Minerva couldn't exactly explain what she felt or saw as she, quite accidentally indeed, looked straight into the great Dark Wizard's eyes.
His eyes were black. That at least was a fact; his eyes were a deep kind of black. The color of deep, of bottomless lakes. An endless darkness- and yet. There was something else in them- something even Minerva, intelligent, witty Minerva could not really define.
Before she quickly lowered her eyes again, she permitted herself one last, small, hidden glance at him. His hair immediately struck her. It was- a kind of dark red, but not the usual sort of red. It was as if it had once been the same, dark color as his eyes, but as if it had- rusted… Yes. That was exactly the way it looked, as if long age had turned deep darkness into something softer. Softer- more fiery. It was a queer color indeed, yet Minerva logically assumed it was natural. Well, what else could it be? The Darkest Lord ever -since Salazar Slytherin himself, perhaps- did probably not dye his hair.
"Look at me." the- man?- said, and Minerva gratefully, yet more hesitant than she'd expected, obeyed.
His face was very pale, and his pronounced cheekbones threw darker shadows on it. Grindelwald, in fact, looked strangely cold. Not the coldness of death, though. Oh no, Grindelwald was very much alive indeed.
The coldness, of…
And for the very first time in her life, Minerva felt deep fear. Deep, profound fear, fear for Grindelwald. Because suddenly, she'd realized that this person was no idiot.
Well, what had she expected, after all?
This was the wizard who had managed to take over the entire world in five years; of course he wasn't an idiot.
Yet, he still was somehow more- impressive than Minerva had ever expected him to be. Darker. Cleverer. More- more addictive.
Minerva gazed into his eyes and understood why so many people had given their lives for him.
Minerva gazed into his eyes and was lost.
But not for long.
After what felt like hours, but in fact could be hardly more than wee seconds, Minerva fell on her knees before the Dark Lord.
"Milord." she muttered, bowing her head. Her black hair, which she wore loosely now, fell in front of her face and she was secretly thankful it did. It was more difficult than she'd expected it to be to keep her composure. She, who could always, under all circumstances, maintain that very own appearance of determinedness that was her own…
But here- here was a wizard who was intelligent. Evil, but intelligent.
Yet.
If he was intelligent, then she had to be more intelligent.
If he was sly, then she had to be more sly.
Her brains had always been her strength, after all.
Grindelwald looked down on her, then curled his thin lips into a devious smile.
"Miss McGonagall. The daughter of, I suppose?"
Minerva's head almost snapped up. Only with the greatest difficulty she managed to control herself. He still remembered her parents? Well, of course he did, she reprimanded herself. Why wouldn't he, after all?
"And, Minerva McGonagall, why does such a smart girl -as you, considering who your parents were, definitely are- come to me? Because after all, I consider it now my unpleasant task to kill you."
He had uttered those words in such a cold, such a hard tone, then he make a faint gesture with his left hand and a wizard strode forward.
Minerva's heart banged like hell, yet she, seemingly calm, answered
"I have come to join you, Milord. I've got information which I think could be of a certain use to you."
Grindelwald raised his hand again, and let his eyes dwell freely over her kneeled body. Minerva shivered, yet bit her lips.
"Alright. You have two minutes to explain me. After all…" He grinned.
"Why should I deny such a pretty little thing those wee minutes of my time?"
Minerva felt like vomiting again, but knew nonetheless this was something included in her task. To oppress feelings of slight sickness was a needed sacrifice for her. A needed sacrifice in order to save the world.
She opened her mouth and talked quickly, talked determinedly.
"Thursday morning, 8 o'clock, a large amount of gold- thousands of galleons- that belongs to the Ministry will be transported. They are doing it in broad daylight, so as not to arouse suspicions. Only two wizards will be guarding it."
Grindelwald raised his eyebrows and smiled his sly grin once more.
"Good, Miss McGonagall. Assuming it is true- what keeps me from killing you now?"
Minerva raised her chin and spoke clearly
"The fact that I know where it will happen and you do not."
To her great surprise, the Dark Lord nodded approvingly, extended his hand and helped Minerva to stand up.
"Really a clever one, aren't you, little Miss McGonagall? I can appreciate cleverness- at least, I can appreciate it in a beautiful young woman."
He allowed his eyes once more to slide along her figure, and smiled again, pointing at a low chair opposite his larger one.
"Sit down and tell me the truth. Why have you come here? Perhaps you have come to join me, perhaps you haven't, but there must be a reason anyway. Last time I heard of you, you were Albus Dumbledore's little love-struck pupil. What has happened since then?"
He talked to her like old friends did, Minerva noticed, and she almost knew for sure it was a trick. She really wasn't that blind. Trying to gain her confidence he was. He wouldn't succeed though. Not as long as her name was Minerva Jean McGonagall.
And it was.
Yet, she knew she needed all her courage now. For this was the hardest part.
"I," she began, trying to look straight into his eyes. She found it extremely hard, though.
"I have, first of all, never been in love with Albus Dumbledore."
First lie.
"Milord, the reason I have come to you is a simple one. I believe that you are right. My parents were wrong. I didn't realize that back then, but now, I know they were wrong and I even- I even know it was probably necessary to eliminate them."
Minerva heard the tears in her voice, as did Grindelwald. Luckily, he interpreted them the wrong way.
"I understand that is a hard thought to you, Miss McGonagall, but I am glad you appear to realize it was inevitable."
Minerva bit her lips and nodded, yet sent a silent prayer up above to her parents, begging them to forgive her, as she went on.
"Yes, I do understand that. I love them for they were my parents, but I hate them for their stupid stubbornness, which caused their own deaths. And that is why I came to you. Because, even though you made me an orphan, you gave me the chance to find out who was right and who was wrong. After school, I enrolled Auror training, but now I've quit it. I've broken with them all. Albus Dumbledore loves me, but I do not love him back. I hate him."
Second, third, fourth… up to perhaps sixtieth lie…
Now only was the question- would Lord Grindelwald believe it? She knew she had told it credibly- hard, but with still an undertone of humanity. But would he… or not?
With a slightly more grim expression on his face, Grindelwald stood up.
"I believe you or I don't believe you, Miss McGonagall. We shall see. You will stay here until Thursday. If your information is correct, you can stay here and I will consider you one of us. If your information is incorrect…"
He hollowly laughed, and Minerva felt her hands tremble. If only Alastor had made sure there would actually *be* a transport of gold… But she could only pray now.
"But now, firstly, tell me the place."
She had no choice. She now just had to trust him. But, she thought bitterly, did anyone realize how hard it was to trust your life to someone who had murdered your parents?
Yet, in a soft voice, she told him the carefully learnt by heart address.
He nodded.
"I sincerely hope it is correct. It would be such a pity to murder something so sweet."
He glanced at her once more. Minerva totally refused to look him in the eye.
"Meia!"
He had hardly pronounced the name, or there the door went open and a small, frail-looking young woman entered. Her skin was white and her light grey eyes were lowered in a very submissive way.
"Bring Miss McGonagall to one of the spare rooms."
"Very well, my Lord." the woman answered in a soft, trembling tone. She turned to Minerva.
"Follow me, please."
And Minerva obeyed.
