Chapter Sixteen

"See, and now I say "checkmate", because I have won." Minerva explained with a faint smile; removing the black king from the chess board in the process, then glanced at the young woman sitting opposite her.

"Do you understand?"

Meia almost imperceptibly nodded, but as Minerva's emerald green eyes linked with Meia's grey ones, Minerva knew that, indeed, the girl had understood her. She did know that Meia was not stupid, after all- just shy and very frightened. But perhaps that was only logical.

With one nonchalant swish of her wand, Minerva returned the chess board- a gift from Lord Grindelwald- back to the shelf where she had grown to usually keep it, then glanced up at Meia again. Despite all shyness and fear, she had grown very fond of the young ex-Ravenclaw, who was, or so Minerva had found out, despite her terribly silent nature still about the best companion she had been able find in the castle. Since Meia's husband only found it flattering and apparently amusing that the Master's woman seemed to like his wife's company so much, they got to spend much time together, and there was no person in the castle whose company Minerva valued more.

Except, sometimes, that of Grindelwald.

Minerva's relationship with Grindelwald was a bizarre one, and confusing too, even to her, whose analytical and rational mind had once been praised above all others during Auror training. She was regularly called to his rooms, where they usually talked about many subjects- not even necessarily about the war or his plans for it- and though Minerva hated to admit it, she knew that Grindelwald was an intelligent man, and a powerful one at that.

And now she knew very well that power did not automatically mean intelligence- but she did know, too, that intelligence always meant power, in one way or another. Intelligence was, in a way, nothing more or less than the ability to know others better than they knew themselves- and to be able to control them because of it.

Grindelwald possessed that sort of power, yet not over her, and Minerva felt it somehow fascinated him. She did not lower her eyes as soon as he entered the room- natural stubbornness standing in the way of that, which would perhaps be considered as the perfect performance of her part in the play of the war.

It had also gained her his respect, though. Minerva had noticed the disdain with which Grindelwald treated the people who surrounded him- even Tom Riddle- and she had slowly grown to realize that that was, because they bowed- which she did not. Grindelwald, Minerva saw, was a man who had probably always received everything for free- someone who had always been able to count on his charisma and intelligence to get everything he wanted, and someone who had grown bitter in the process. Bitter and- bored, too, bored of having people nod at him, bored at the "Yes, Sir." which in a way he craved, too.

That was, partly, perhaps the explanation why he liked to talk to her so often- and why he had not- yet- tried anything more. She'd been prepared for it since the very first day, and she'd known that it could happen ever since she'd accepted the mission at her own- but so far, it had not and she was grateful for that.

When she had first left, she had just seen it as a part of her mission- something an Auror should be able to cope with- but that had changed after she had received her first letter from Albus. She'd had to burn it right away, of course, but the words remained written in her heart and Minerva knew very well that that was where they were going to stay- forever.

Since then, it did matter to her. Since that moment, she'd realized that she had actually something to live for, and even though it did not render her desperate- she was too brave for that- it did worry her, a little.

She had known right away that what a spy needed the most was recklessness- the sort of bravery that included throwing yourself into things without properly having thought it all over- and she had thought that, even though it was not a part of her character, that could not be too big a problem to her.

She had no parents alive anymore, nor siblings, and though she did have friends, she wasn't the person to hesitate when duty was involved.

But Albus- she could not, would not, leave Albus behind.

She had something to live for, now- and it hurt her more than she dared admit even to herself. As a soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, she was almost grateful- until Anselmus Malfoy's pale face appeared, and with a short nod, he summoned both women out of the room.

"Meia, here. Miss McGonagall- the Lord wants to see you."