A/N: To Kaitlyn, who reminded me that this fic still existed ;).
Gathering her long, velvet skirts together, Minerva got up, more slowly than, perhaps, she could have. She'd grown into a deep, heartfelt dislike for the fair-haired man with his cold eyes- and she knew she irritated her by not obeying immediately, like Meia did.
The young woman had immediately, at the mere sight of her husband, jumped up and nearly ran out of the room- while Minerva, a small smile on her lips, took her time walking towards the door.
It was perhaps not a smart move to treat a powerful man like Mr. Malfoy undoubtedly was this way- but slowly yet surely, Minerva had come to realize that as long as she had the favour of the Dark Lord himself, she could do anything she wished- and in a weird, twisted way, it made her feel protected.
Even Tom Riddle had left her alone since the Lord had "taught him a lesson"- and though the memory of the Unforgivable Curse still filled Minerva with a disgust never felt before, she had to admit that at least it had calmed Riddle down.
Minerva's only problem was, really, that some part of her really did realize how very fake her feeling of protection was.
Her safety, namely, depended on the mood swings of just one man.
And that man happened to be the darkest wizard of all times.
"Minerva, good day!"
And yet as he sat there, she nearly felt like greeting an old friend. Only an instant later, though, did she realize how twisted it all sounded and looked- and it was that instant that worried her.
"Good day, my Lord. I hope you are alright today?"
Was she getting indoctrinated? Was she turning into a follower of Grindelwald, then? Had, slowly but surely, his ideas crept inside of her mind, too- had she been made into a servant like the others?
Oh hell no!
"I am very well, Minerva, very well, sit down."
And she sat down- because the strange thing about Grindelwald's orders was just that- that you obeyed. No matter how kindly he asked or said something, there was always the need to obey- and you always ended up doing just that.
It was a strange quality of his- and a very useful one at that, Minerva rationally thought.
"I have been thinking about our marriage."
Minerva nervously shifted in her chair- and as the pensive, dark eyes of her Lord came to rest on her face, she realized he'd seen it- and froze.
But why on earth shouldn't he have seen it, actually! It was with a stubborn look in her eyes that the black-haired witch returned his gaze- why couldn't she be nervous, after all? She was twenty-one years of age- why shouldn't she feel a bit intimidated by the idea of marriage?
"Does that idea frighten you?"
"A little."
"I thought so. But Minerva, my Lady- I am making you my Queen- you must see that that's the best thing that could happen to you, don't you?"
The young woman sighed as, in a nearly fatherly way, the older wizard patted her hand. She knew that in a way, he meant well- and she also knew that in a way, he was mad.
Minerva cleared her throat.
"Of course I do, my Lord. It was silly of me to be scared at that idea, and I apologize."
"Of course."
His satisfied smile made that he irritated her for the very first time- it was strange. The past few weeks and days, she'd felt various things towards the Dark Lord- ranging from hate towards something very close to admiration- but not once had he irritated her.
Now, though, he did- and suddenly, she found herself nearly looking down on him- which was a whole new sensation.
Suddenly, he was not the powerful Lord anymore.
Suddenly, she saw a man who'd tried to function in a normal society, and who had failed.
Suddenly, she saw a failure.
And she was not afraid anymore.
