A/N: Well, I think the consensus is to keep writing... Sorry for the delay! Life had been absolutely crazy! But I hope everyone enjoys!
Xxxxx
Cold.
Dark.
Stone.
Pain.
Tessa blinked, floating on the surface of consciousness.
Her hands and feet felt numb. Her skin was icy, goose bumps covering her flesh, making her tremble in the biting air.
She tried to focus her vision, but the space was devoid of any light.
She ran her hands along the ground. It felt like stone. Not smooth like marble, but not ragged.
She tried to straighten her legs, but a stabbing pain shot up her left knee. She cried out in pain and reached down. Her knee cap had been twisted out of the socket.
Tears threatened her eyes. Breathing heavily, she tried to get her pain under control.
She reached up and couldn't feel a ceiling. She reached out- no walls.
So the space was wider and taller than expected. Her feelings of claustrophobia began to wane.
But why was she here?
She remembered... An owl?... A letter?... A letter from who?...
She felt her heart pounding in her head. A migraine was beginning to take hold behind her eyes.
Laying down, she closed her eyes, trying to sooth her nerves.
But she couldn't remember how she had gotten here. Or how she'd gotten hurt.
Jacques. Where was he?
Tessa tried to call out, but her throat was dry and ragged.
She heard a rustling behind her and saw a small flicker of light.
A familiar voice said, "Well, look who has decided to wake up."
She tried to turn, but she felt a blinding pain rip through her back, forcing her muscles to contort and tense.
She heard a cold, merciless laugh.
Her memory flooded back in a millisecond.
Before she could even process it, there was another flash of light, and she fell back on the stone, passing out from the agonizing pain.
Xxxxx
Minerva paced around the pristine lobby. It had been two hours since she'd heard anything from any of the healers.
No news was good news right?
Or was no news bad news?
Whatever the case, the anticipation was getting to her.
She heard rather than saw Kingsley walk through the front door. She wished she could run away and evade his questioning about the incident.
No such luck.
"Minerva!" He called out.
Minerva turned around. "Minister."
"What happened?"
Minerva raised her hand. "I don't want to discuss it right now; I'll send you a statement."
"You need to go home."
Minerva's eyes flared but Kingsley pushed on, "People are asking questions about why you're here. Don't you see how odd it looks that the Headmistress of Hogwarts is over here with a Society witch?"
Minerva started to protest, but realized that he was probably right. "Ok." She said weakly.
Kingsley patted her arm. "Rest. Shower. Eat. I'll let you know if anything happens."
"I'll keep my Floo open."
He nodded and Minerva took out her port key. In a flash she was back in her office.
She instantly flew to her inbox pile to see if there was a letter from Tessa or Percival.
Stupid, she knew that they wouldn't respond so quickly.
Minerva dropped her wands on her desk and walked into the bathroom.
Stripping her clothes, she threw them down the waste chute. She couldn't handle looking any longer at her daughter's blood.
She opened the door and threw them down. Turning to the mirror, she looked at herself for the first time today.
She looked awful.
She had blood on her hands, arms, face and hair, and a nasty bruise was on her arm from a stray rock. Her long black hair was tangled and matted, her bun now hanging loosely at the base of her neck.
She turned away and stepped into her shower. Instantly the water came on, and the water running hot on her body and on the shower floor. The blood and dirt began mingling with the water, making crimson streams on the tile.
The sight of it made something snap in Minerva, and she found herself shaking and crying uncontrollably.
She wept for her daughter, her sweet, gorgeous daughter, whose life was now held in the hands of healers.
She wept for Tessa, for their practically non-existent relationship.
She wept for Percival, whom she could look at and see her husband one more time- and how easily he too could be taken away.
She wept for Albus, and the fact that he couldn't be here to save the world again.
And she wept for herself, for the possibility that she couldn't do her duty as a mother and save her children.
Minerva didn't want to face the fact that the world she had so carefully hidden her children from was cracking, and for once in her life, she had no control.
She just sat on the floor, crying for all she was worth. Her breaths were labored, and she pounded the walls with her fist.
She was hurting and she was alone, and to her, it was a crippling combination.
When her tears stopped flowing and her breaths became more even, Minerva finally pulled herself up and cut off the water.
She opened the door and grabbed her bathrobe and walked to the vanity.
The steam was sitting in the air like a winter morning fog.
She grabbed her toothbrush and hairbrush and sat them on the counter.
With a small movement of her long fingers, she dried her hair and began brushing it out. Her hair was so long when she didn't put it up- it nearly touched her lower back.
Instead of magically putting her hair in a braid, she worked her fingers through her hair and twisted the locks herself. The rhythm and feeling was a good distraction.
She finished and tied a ribbon around it. She then grabbed her toothbrush and paste and brushed her teeth.
When she opened the vanity again, her eyes caught a glimpse of a small purple bottle labeled: Dreamless Drought- for the best sleep a witch or wizard can get!
She reached for it and unscrewed the bottle, then she stopped.
Dreams. She had to dream. That was what gave her the clue the first time, wasn't it? Maybe tonight she'd do the same thing and perhaps find something out...
She shook her head. "Don't put your trust in Divination," she muttered to herself. "Don't you start now. You are too goddamn old."
She started to drink the potion, but she just couldn't.
Screwing the top back on, she extinguished the lights and moved to her bedroom. From her wardrobe she pulled out a thin night dress and placed her robe at the end of the bed.
Kneeling, she grabbed a small canister from the hearth and threw the green powder into the small fire.
"Minister of Magic." She said.
The flames crackled and parted, giving her a view of Kingsley's office.
"Kingsley..." She called.
She heard a rustling and a scrape, and a chair was pushed in front of the fireplace and the Minister sat down.
"Minerva. You look better."
"I look like shit and I know it. News?"
"Esmerele will survive. She's suffered from blood loss and malnutrition but she is alright. The healers have her in a coma now and they are working on her spine injuries."
"Spine injuries?"
"Cruciatus curse."
Minerva closed her eyes. "Oh..."
Kingsley sighed. "Get some rest, Minerva. Nothing will change. I'll see you tomorrow."
"I have to attend to my school first."
"But then come here."
"Yes."
And with that, she closed the fire. She stood up and crawled into bed, pulling the thick down comforter around her body.
She shut her eyes and tried to focus on her summers at the manor, when the Scotland skies blended in with the white-capped waters...
Xxxxx
Percival sat drinking his coffee. He was glad he'd taken this sudden vacation to Ireland. He liked Belclare. He liked the wind off the salty waters and the whispers of the high grass.
It was so quiet and serene here. And he even liked the fact that he lived in a Muggle town. He never really understood why his mother used to do every little thing with magic. He rather liked the simple things- cutting food, hauling wood, and even cleaning.
His small house on a side road was his little get away from the stress of working with potions all day long.
He liked to visit the alchemy stores and pharmacies in Muggle towns. He always seemed to find mixtures that helped tremendously with his work.
Percival arched his back and stood up. He heard an odd sound and turned his head.
Seeing nothing, he picked up his mug and went to move inside.
He heard the faint sound again.
He spun around and met two big brown eyes.
Big brown owl eyes.
A rather large owl sat on top of his vacated seat and looked intently at Percival. He picked up his leg with the letter attached.
"Well hi there. And thank you. Let me get you a treat."
The bird hooted and ruffled its feathers.
Percival walked inside and grabbed a slice of bacon off the counter and walked back outside.
"Here ya go. You may sit and rest, if you'd like. Or go inside, there's water beside the hearth."
The bird hooted and gently flew up and onto the porch.
Percival looked at the letter.
Mom. Double M and fancy script.
Opening it, he read the short note.
Perc,
Please come to Hogwarts. I fear you are in danger.
I'd rather not explain it all here, but I assure you it is serious.
Please come home as quickly as possible.
Love,
Mathair
Percival frowned. He was going back there this weekend. Why was she so anxious?
Shrugging, he walked back inside and laid his coffee on the table.
Well, he thought, if she wants me there, fine.
Besides, he wouldn't mind rummaging around the potion room stores.
He went into this room and threw his clothes in his bag. He grabbed his toiletries and stuffed them in the side pocket.
He went to shut the deck door, but saw the owl was still there.
"Hogwarts?"
The bird nodded.
Percival held out his arm. "I'm going too."
The bird gently flew up and landed on his arm. "And you are?"
The owl raised its leg. On the carrier was stamped FORTUNA.
"Well, Fortuna, lovely to meet you."
She blinked and cocked her head. Percival chuckled and slid the door shut. He flicked his wrist and all the doors locked.
Grabbing the powder, he threw it into the fire. With one last look back, he said "Mathair's rooms," and he and Fortuna walked into the fire.
Xxxxx
It was dark. Silent.
Minerva cautiously crept forward in her Animagus form, her little paws making not a sound on the stone floor.
She noticed two scents. One was Donal, the other was Tessa. She could always identify Tessa. The one thing she had adopted from her mother? An addiction to ginger newts and rose perfume.
Creeping forward, she saw the pathway fork. She sniffed and went right.
She could hear a rattling and a clinking.
The hall twisted down, becoming steeper and colder as she descended.
Water began dripping from the ceiling, and she jerked whenever one hit her back.
Around another curve and there was a thick wooden door. She moved towards it and peered through a crack.
A small candle flickered in the distance, casting dancing shadows on the adjacent wall.
She pressed her ear to the door, but heard nothing.
She thought she could see something in the corner, but before she could look, she felt a small tremor, and the corridor began to collapse.
She tried to morph back into her human form, but her shape wouldn't change.
Desperate, she began clawing at the door in a vain attempt to get in.
She looked around. The ceiling wouldn't hold much longer.
She jumped and tried to grab the door, claws extending in a desperate effort to stay on the wood.
With another shudder, the ceiling gave way.
She turned and watched, petrified as the cascading rocks hurled towards her.
She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the crushing death about to come...
But when she opened her eyes, she was back in her room at Hogwarts.
"Goddamn it." She whispered.
Xxxxx
A bolt of red light burst from the end of the wand, scorcing the wall of the empty apartment.
Donal was furious. He had finally tracked down the McGonagall boy's house and he wasn't even there.
Donal raised his wand and instantly the drawers and cabinets flew open, spewing their contents onto the floor.
He didn't know what he would find, but he had to find where McGonagall manor was. Because if he could find that, he could kill Minerva.
Damn her. How confident she was when she worked with the Society- strutting around with her nose in the air like she had some right to be there.
He had hated her and wanted her at the same time.
She, of course, took no notice of him. She was too busy with her own research and study. And her and that Grace were always together.
But he had won her over, for a short time. He remembered it vividly.
They were in the library, and their hands had brushed when they reached for a quill on the table.
She had blushed. That he remembered.
From then on they kept bumping into each other, both of them becoming more bold with each encounter.
With the war looming, Donal had decided to stay neutral. Minerva, on the other hand, made it very clear that she was not sympathetic to Grindelwald's cause.
When he could barely take her emerald gaze, he had finally asked her out to dinner.
Amazingly, she had agreed.
But they never made it to dinner, not even once.
He'd arrived to her flat and when she opened the door, they pounced on each other.
He had pinned her to the wall. She had leapt up and wrapped her legs around him.
They had kissed with reckless abandon, their bodies frantically grinding against each other.
They hadn't even taken off their clothes. He'd simply taken her right there in the foyer.
And they never went to dinner, not once in their six month passionate affair.
They didn't speak of it at work either. Somehow they both knew that what they had was like a runaway train- it was fast, mad, and hard, but it couldn't last.
Five months into the affair, he had sworn his alliance with Grindelwald's army. His task? Stealing Transfiguration texts that would allow Grindelwald to poison the air with a flick of his wand, allowing him to kill anyone without a trace.
And who had those texts? Minerva.
Donal remembered that night. Minerva was sleeping soundly on the bed. He had crept up and went to her library. It was enormous; obviously she had charmed the room so it appeared smaller on the outside.
There were easily hundreds of books. He had nowhere to start.
He moved to her fireplace and threw in the powder. Casting a silencing charm around Minerva's room, he called in Bain and Tibbet né Long- two of Grindelwald's top wizards.
Quietly they crept out of the fire and moved to the bookcase. Bain pulled out a picture and description of the book they were looking for.
They began searching methodically, staring at the top and working their way down.
About an hour later, Donal found a fake book. It was wooden. He touched the books adjacent- wooden too.
Bain and Tibbet watched, and Donal shot out a spell, splintering the wood and revealing the books hidden within.
Donal reached for the book, but when he did, the other books began flying like bludgers off the shelves, nearly knocking him off the ladder.
"GET DOWN FROM THERE!" Tibbet yelled.
Levitating himself, he grabbed the book and flew down, books battering him as he struggled forward.
The door flew open, and Minerva stood there with her wand raised.
"The book! Throw the goddamn book!" Bain yelled. He already had one foot through the Floo.
"No!" Minerva cried, shooting out a spell to stop Donal's movement.
But Donal was quicker, and the book landed squarely in Bain's hand before Minerva's spell sent Donal sprawling back against the wall.
Before she could cast another one to stop Bain, the fire closed and he was gone.
Donal couldn't look Minerva in the eye. Her emerald eyes betrayed her true feelings- anger, resentment, betrayal, and hurt.
She didn't hesitate twice before angrily grabbing his arm and apparating them to the Ministry. She had sounded the alarm immediately after appearing in the lobby, and before Donal could speak he was taken away to holding, and Minerva was striding to the Auror's office to give her account.
During the trial, Minerva didn't look at him once. And she didn't admit to their affair- she claimed he had broken into her house.
Normally a memory would cloud if altered, but Minerva had only released her memory from the moment she awoke to the noise, which didn't contradict her statement.
And really, who was the Wizengamot going to believe? His word, or Minerva McGonagall, already the most renowned Transfiguration expert in the world?
He had been sentenced to life.
But now that he was free, he was ripe to kill her.
Damn her for ruining his life. He had suffered for forty years in Azkaban, his very soul shattering from the daily torment of dementors.
He wasn't who he was then. Then he was just a pawn. Now, he was his own commander.
And he wanted Minerva to suffer like he had.
One thing she had let slip during their affair- her magic reserve was tied to her family.
Through some information exchanges in Azkaban, he'd learned that she had a family mansion hidden in Scotland, protected by blood wards and enchantments so complex that no person has ever penetrated the walls.
Find the house and destroy it, you'd deplete nearly all of the McGonagall clan's magic stores.
That was his goal, and he was going to kill her and her family, even if it was the last thing he'd ever do.
Xxxxxx
A/N: sorry for the delay! I'm such a bad author... There will be another "Spark" chapter up soon too! I hope you all enjoyed, and again thanks to Lucero! You're the best! :)