The Dark Lord's Table
Yaxley strutted quickly up the long walk to the front gates of the Malfoy Mansion. The magnificent wrought iron stretched nearly twelve feet into the night sky. He was running unusually late, but Scrimgeour had kept him at the Ministry. The old fool. It did not matter; the good Minister would be out of office soon enough. As he prepared to walk through the magical gate, he noticed a tall figure standing next to the green hedges. Flourishing his wand, he spoke in his most demanding voice.
"Reveal yourself." When the figure stepped calmly out of the shadows he realized it was a witch. He would have recognized the top hat anywhere, but it did not belong here.
"Surely, Mr. Yaxely, it has not been that long since we have seen each other that you no longer recognize me." If the Death Eater had any doubts before, her voice was unmistakable.
"Professor McGonagall. What brings you here?" The suspicion in his voice was hard to miss, but she did not seem to care. Glancing up at the gate she spoke again, causing the man before her to cringe at the teacher like tone she used.
"Same reason you are. I wish to speak to your master." This time Yaxley's smirk broke through, but before he could snidely remark she continued on. "However, I am at a loss on how to get in. On the other hand, you seem to be late. Therefore, it may be beneficial for both of us for you to bring me along."
"And how would that help me?"
"I need in the gate and you need an excuse to be late. So string together some story about how you fought to disarm me and we'll be on our merry way." Yaxley shifted from one foot to another, straightening his neck tie. With an impatient sigh, McGonagall removed her wand from her sleeve and handed it over. The surprise on Yaxley's face was unmistakable, but he took the wand without question. Then, taking her arm rather roughly, he marched her through the gates.
White peacocks greeted them on the other side. Even in the face of the Malfoys' fall from grace, the Manor's exquisite grounds gave evidence of their once prominent pureblood status. The tall hedges that lined the walkway faded into a brilliant yard with fountains that once flowed with water. Now, though the grass was green, the fountains were nothing but dry marble. The large double doors opened to reveal the stone entryway. Yaxley led her up the staircase to the dining room. Pausing before the doors sung open; the middle aged man glanced suspiciously at his regal ex-professor.
The grand dining room was unusually quiet when Yaxley led his prize into the room. The crackle of yellow-red flames in the stone fire place was on the only sound. No one dared speak as Lord Voldemort pushed back his chair and slowly came to his feet.
"Well, well, well. Look what the...cat dragged in." The slippery sound of his voice chilled the entire room.
"Your cat," said Minerva with no hesitation only an air of superiority, "caught nothing. I came on my own." Glancing at the hold Yaxley had on her arm; the younger man instantly released her, but kept a firm hand on her wand. Eyes were beating down on her, but she held a firm gaze with Lord Voldemort and for a moment she imagined his read eyes dancing with emotion, but then remembered the creature before her had no emotions.
"To what do we owe the honor, Professor?" Many of the gathered snickered at his degrading tone of voice. McGonagall slipped her pale hand into the pocket of her robes and removed the silver ring. Stepping up to the edge of the long table she laid it gently down on the glimmering surface.
"I came to fulfill a promise." Then she firmly slid the ring down the table until it came to a rest in front of the Dark Lord. Silence fell over the room once again as he picked up the silver object and twirled it in his fingers. After a very long moment he peered at her from opposite the long table.
"Have a seat, Minerva." Hisses flew throughout the room as the ex-professor lowered herself into a chair at the foot of the table as if she belonged there her entire life.
"My Lord!"
"I must protest!"
"It could be a trick! The Order no longer believes they have a spy! She was one of Dumbledore's biggest supporters." Bellatrix Lestrange's voice rang loud above the rest of the crowd.
"You doubt my judgment, Bella?" Voldemort had expected his follower's outbursts. The woman in question vigorously shook her head in protest, struggling to find the correct words.
"Perhaps, my Lord, what dear Bella meant to say was that she would like to understand your reasons for so willingly accepting Professor McGonagall to our table," a confident sly voice broke through the confusion. Severus Snape glanced toward his colleague, but she refused to meet his eyes.
"What is it you protest to? Her name? Her position? Her power? Or the man she so cowardly used as a shield for half a century?" The dig was obvious, but Minerva paid no heed. "Well Bella, why don't you see if she is willing to defend her place at this table?" Bellatrix's eyes lit up with malevolence. With a wicked smile, she clambered onto the table, her black boots clicking on the glossy table top. Drawing her wand, she smirked at the older woman.
"You are joking?" Seeing the look of amusement cross Voldemort's face, she pushed back the chair she had just taking a seat in. "My wand, Mr. Yaxley?" The Death Eater quickly pulled the stick and handed it to her. Gracefully, she stepped up on the seat of her chair, then the table to stand opposite her opponent.
"Let's see what you've got, Professor." Bellatrix was fast to move, attacking mercilessly. McGonagall merely blocked every spell calmly. It didn't take long for her lack of fight to frustrate the Death Eater. "Is this all you have?"
"No one needs to get hurt tonight, Mrs. Lestrange." She blocked a blue stream of light and took two steps backward.
"I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you're worried about," mocked Bellatrix. The Death Eater got two more spells out before Minerva effortlessly flicked her wand in silence. A flash of white and Bellatrix was face down on the smooth table top. Several of the occupants who had been watching in amusement, leaned forward in true interest. Bellatrix pushed herself up in a fury, not to be out done by her much older Professor. Bitterly, she clumsily threw another hex, but McGonagall easily deflected it, moving forward for the first time.
"Mrs. Lestrange, you forget I know your style and where your talent lies. The ill-tempered child I once taught has only changed into a fiery woman with something to prove. You have always looked for a fight and though you have mastered every harmful hex, you lack the patience and experience. Don't you forget I have already lived through two wars. Do not underestimate me because of personal ignorance." She said every word as if she were back in her own classroom. She also knew her opponent's next move before the dark witch began to make it.
"Crucio!" exclaimed Bella, eyes widening with a lust for pain. Minerva began walking quickly toward the beam of red light, swirling her wand above her head, muttering under her breath in a speed none could understand.
"Totus meus poena , totus meus moestitia , sileo in meus animus." In the matter of seconds it took the Unforgivable to reach her she had completed her incantation. A white mist descended around the elder witch and as soon as the curse hit it, it turned red. "Totus meus poena, totus meus moestitia , sileo in vestri somes." The mist quickly formed to a small ball on the tip of her mahogany wand and flew at a great velocity toward the original caster.
Bellatrix's dark eyes showed a brief inclination of fear before they rolled back in pain in response to the Cruciatus Curse. Minerva pulled her wand away, breaking the spell, and not flinching at the sound of the young woman's cries, she walked back to her end of the table.
"I would like a private word." Yaxley was still standing beside her chair and McGonagall held out a hand for him to assist her down. Without question the younger wizard assisted her in stepping off the table, into the chair, and back onto the solid floor. Stowing her wand in her pocket, she turned back to Voldemort. "Now, if you will."
"Everything you want to say may be said in front of them," he said with a sweep of his arms. Minerva stared at him for a moment as if weighing her options. Then, with the grace and poise she was known for, lowered herself into the chair.
"You are here for the girls?" Lord Voldemort glanced over the surface of her mind. Minerva McGonagall had never quite mastered the true art of occlumency, but she had a complex mind with many hidden passages. She had the ability to focus her attention on many things at once, a tribute to her years as a professor, while pushing what she wanted you to see to the surface. It gave the appearance to any legilimen that she was not skilled at closing her mind when, in fact, it was a well practiced defense mechanism. Therefore when skimming her foremost thoughts, Voldemort was surprised to find them completely focused on freeing his two youngest prisoners.
"Yes."
The answer was simple and she had no intention of following up. Minerva stared into the snake like eyes that questioned her, but still refused to make eye contact with his right hand man, Severus Snape. As her darkening green eyes swept the table, they never once rested on Narcissa or Draco Malfoy. Voldemort could sense the pain that glossed over her solid façade every time she skipped over them at the table.
"What makes you so confident that we would just release them to you?" Augustus Rookwood spoke from the chair to the left of his master. His once light brown hair was graying with age and Minerva knew his place at the table was one of respect, because his prime fighting years were behind him, much like her own. The duel with Bellatrix had worn her down; she knew she would be in pain tomorrow.
"I believe that after last year's end of term events, you are without a…"she paused for a moment, searching for the right word. Her actions were carefully calculated and she had to be vigilant of what was said. "…spy. I assume that is still what you would call him."
"Are you volunteering?" sneered Rookwood.
"Not at all. If you want my assistance, it will be completely yours- not as a double agent. I haven't the time or the energy."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"I have secured Snape's welcome back into the Order of the Phoenix as long as he returns with Ms. Weasley and Ms. Granger." Whispers flew through the table once more. With her offer on the table, her eyes finally met Snape's blank black orbs. The lack of expression on his pale face only illustrated his shock at her suggestion.
"How could you have possibly done this?" The Dark Lord rested his chin on the spindle bones that made up his hands. She waited until the murmuring had come to a stop to answer. The game had to be played correctly in order to win and all of her cards were presently on the table.
"They trust me."
"That is undeniable. But will they trust him?"
"They trust me," she insisted once more. Knowing she had bought their curiosity and desperation to know what was going on in the Order, she leaned calmly back in her chair. "My word is as, let us say, golden as Albus Dumbledore's was."
"And how do you plan on explaining your absence?" Snape asked.
"I find that the truth is suitable."
Lord Voldemort actually let out a genuine laugh at her words. "The truth, Minerva? Do you even remember the truth? As Dumbledore's less than perfect past comes into light, you are going to show your dark side? Tsk, tsk. Won't this ruin your reputation?" Laughter rang through the table at her expense once more and her lips pulled thin at his mocking attitude.
"There are very few people in this world that know my investment in you winning this war. Only two are present at this table. If you want to keep your reputation, it will remain that way." The laughter turned to nervous chuckles as the eyes of every Death Eater bounced from their Master to the Transfiguration Mistress. The outer edges of her lips turned up as she tapped her nails on the arm of the wooded back chair. "I can do more than lay your most faithful on this table. You know my strengths as well as my weaknesses. Do you want my help or not?"
A/N: I got to thinking about how I already have the majority of this story written and I thought maybe I would give you a little teaser. Perhaps it would encourage some of you to leave a review (not that I don't LOVE the reviews I have gotten, because they mean the world to me). I do have to say this next chapter teaser isn't as thought provoking or mysterious as others, but I'm giving it to you anyway.
Letters and Memories
"I met Tom Marvolo Riddle in May of my third year. Never would I have believed the twelve year old boy I met on the grounds that day would forever change my life. I was curious of the boy who clearly had more knowledge than students' years above him, especially for someone whom I thought at the time was a Muggle born. Looking back, I believe Tom and I's paths were destined to cross even if I had not approached him that day."