A/N: As promised, another chapter today! I'm sorry for the briefness of the last chapter, but I hope this makes up for it a bit. If not, I can tell you that I'm currently writing chapter 17, and it will probably be around 7,000 words. Now, without further ado, chapter 15!
Bright lights shone down from the ceiling, causing sweat to gather on her hairline, and she had a fleeting moment of amusement, guessing that some muggleborn at the Ministry had enjoyed one too many mystery novels.
Flushing the humor from her mind, she refocused as the frustrated woman sat down in front of her again. "Who created the potion which caused you to revert to your current age?" she asked, and Minerva rolled her eyes slightly, annoyed with the fact that they were starting from the beginning again.
She felt the tingling sensation in the back of her mind, a gentle compulsion charm. It tugged at her know-it-all tendencies screaming, "You know that, Fred and George! Tell them, ten points to Gryffindor!" But Minerva shut that door firmly, instead concentrating on the names of important figures in the Goblin Rebellions.
Urg the Unclean, Goblin leader in the Rebellions of the 18th century.
The now familiar stabbing sensation began to distract her from her recitations, as she held back the valuable answers. She moaned lightly, cringing at the pain, but was able to hold enough focus to last the forty-nine seconds.
Sudden relief filled her and she sighed, allowing herself a small moment of breath, before returning to her complete focus.
It was rare that a person could fight the toxins in Veritaserum. To date, Albus Dumbledore, Gideon Prewett, Alastor Moody, and Severus Snape were the only wizards known to be able to fight it. Granted, most of the higher up dark wizards had never been questioned using Veritaserum—they hadn't exactly hidden their actions, had they? Just the same, Minerva was likely to go down in history if she was able to keep up much longer.
Unfortunately, Mellasandre had been questioning her for several days now, and Minerva didn't know how much longer she would be able to hold them off. She wasn't getting more than four hours of sleep on any given night, and was spending hours each day under harsh questioning. The nature of veritaserum caused each unanswered question to bring a sharp stabbing sensation, similar to the pain of an ice-cream headache. The only difference was that this sensation would last from 48 to 52 seconds.
She had counted.
48 seconds may sound brief, but when debilitating pain, compulsion charms, and veritaserum are combined, suddenly even twelve seconds is too long.
Just as Minerva felt the ringing in her head lessen, Mellasandre was staring her down again and repeating, "Who created the potion which caused you to revert to your current age?"
Bodrig the Boss-eyed, leader of the Brotherhood of Goblins, claimed not to condone violence, but supportive of Goblins who embraced it.
Minerva let out a scream as the stabbing began this time, but still managed to hold the information, clutching it desperately between her teeth. As the pain subsided she bit out, "Fuck you, Mel."
Throughout the years, Harry had done some honestly moronic things, and he was well aware of that. He followed his heart more than his head and, while he certainly didn't begrudge his heart, more often than not it had ended in tragedy.
One of the reason's his and Hermione's friendship had always been so strong, is that despite the fact that she always seemed to know when he was making the wrong choice, she still followed him. And she never once said, I told you so. He loved her for that.
He had always hoped that if she was ever in that situation he would be equally supportive and forgiving—it seemed that he was about to be tested on that.
It had been exactly one week since Minerva had disappeared, and Hermione was in shambles. She hadn't eaten in at least two days, her eyes were red-rimmed, and her hair was an even more terrifying mass than it had been when they were on the run. He had dragged her to class, in some cases literally, knowing that she wouldn't forgive herself if she failed to graduate when all of this was past them. But aside from class she had stayed hidden in her room.
He found himself even doing her homework, which was something he never would have predicted.
Now it was Saturday morning and she had already made a first year cry by shouting at them. Afterwards she had briefly succumbed to a flurry of sobs, ashamed of her untapped temper. When she had tried to apologize to the boy he had just nodded fearfully.
"Hermione," Harry whispered, watching as she paced in front of the fire place, "Please sit down and talk to me."
She looked at him unhappily before heaving herself onto the couch beside him, leaning heavily against his shoulder. "Harry, I don't know what to say," she rasped, voice weary from too many hours screaming at nothingness. "It's been a week, and Dumbledore isn't any closer to getting her back. She's alone, and vulnerable, and I can't do anything."
Harry grasped her hand lightly, "Hermione, you know Minerva. She is anything but vulnerable. I'm sure that she's fairing alright."
Hermione just shook her head and whispered, "I can't stop hearing her voice, Harry."
"What?"
"I—I hear her voice. All the time, I hear her screaming," she said, crying softly. "I know it's crazy, and I know I can't be actually hearing her, but it's there all the same, and it's killing me."
"We're going to get her back, Mione. And I'm sure that she'll be fine. Then you two will have your happy ending, eh?" Hermione shook her head and wiped the tears away fiercely, obviously frustrated with her visible misery. "It's okay to be upset you know—you don't have to be strong all the time."
Hermione shook her head again, "It's better to be angry, than sad, Harry. It's easier."
"Anger is not a good thing, Hermione."
"Hypocrite."
Harry shrugged, "Maybe, but doesn't that mean I would know best? Remember fifth year, Mione? I was angry all the time, and in the end that recklessness and anger got someone killed, and it almost killed you."
Hermione frowned, "Harry that wasn't your fault," she said sadly.
"I'm not saying it was," Harry clarified; he had long since forgiven himself for that particular incident. "But that doesn't change the fact that my anger made me reckless, and you can't let that happen to you."
"But Harry, I need to do something." She whispered, "I can't just leave her there."
Harry pulled her into a hug, allowing her to bury her tears in his shirt, "You are doing something, Hermione. You're trusting Dumbledore."
Harry discretely cast a seclusion spell, distracting their peers from their conversation, as Hermione burst into a wave overwhelming tears. She seemed to finally release the pent up emotions of the past week, sobbing violently into Harry's robes as he held his friend helplessly.
"It'll be okay, Mione," he whispered, desperate to comfort her.
"Harry, I'm completely in love with her," Hermione sobbed finally. "I'm completely in love with her, and she's gone."
Minerva woke up as the lights flickered to life in her room—cell. She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but that didn't seem to matter much recently. It had been three days since her last interrogation, the one which has left her screaming in agony as the same question was echoed endlessly.
She didn't know why they had stopped, but she could only guess they had given up on Veritaserum, which was lucky for her. She could feel her control slipping, and didn't doubt that if they had continued for another day she would have broken. After Mellasandre had angrily left the room, Minerva had been hurried back to her room, and abandoned.
She hadn't left since, nor had she seen anyone, not even for meals. Her stomach gurgled loudly at the thought—three days without food certainly wasn't pleasant, though she was extremely appreciative of the water glass on her nightstand which seemed to refill itself.
Somewhere in the back of her subconscious a deep-seeded fear of being forgotten clawed at her, worried that no one would come for her, worried that she would die here. But she pushed that thought away, realizing it was unrealistic and that nothing of the sort was going to happen.
She could only guess that they were attempting a more muggle technique for weakening her, but that wouldn't work very well. She was hungry, certainly. And physically she was weak. But she had been in worse situations in her life, and she could handle this. Especially with the amount of sleep they were awarding her. After a week of sleep deprivation, she wasn't going to complain about having three days to recover.
She was once again distracted from her musings as a key was inserted in her lock. Derek entered the room stiffly, "Come with me please."
Minerva nodded, standing slowly and approaching him. "Derek?" she asked quietly, causing the man to glance over, surprised.
"Er—yes?" he asked, seemingly confused to be leaving behind their usual script.
"I was just curious what your last name was," she asked softly, "Until this little break, I was seeing you every morning, and I don't recognize you. As you well know, I recognize most people around here, being that I've taught for so long. So I was wondering what you last name was, so I may be able to place you."
Derek nearly smiled, but he was able to control it. "I didn't attend Hogwarts, Professor. I was homeschooled."
Minerva nodded, "Ah, good. That means my memory isn't suddenly failing me."
"No ma'am," he answered, opening the door for her. "Have a good day, ma'am."
The door shut swiftly behind her, but she couldn't contain the soft smile caused by the boy's manners. She hadn't expected that from one of her captors, but she supposed he was only doing his job. He couldn't be more than 22, and had undoubtedly spent all of his time trying to move up in the department. He may not even be fully aware of what happened in these rooms.
"Minerva," a cold voice called from behind her, and she felt her guard going up. She and Mellasandre had given up all pretenses by the second day of Veritaserum, and it was refreshing to see the cold calculation behind her grey eyes. "I'm so glad that you are making friends with our Derek."
Minerva frowned, "I certainly wouldn't consider him a friend. If he was a friend he would let me out of this damned place. I simply find it refreshing to speak with someone who holds an appreciation for manners."
"Well then, I do hope you've enjoyed your rest."
"It was lovely; I've grown rather attached to that painting. I may just stay forever."
"Perhaps," she drawled.
Minerva knew what would come next, which allowed her to be fully prepared. They had decided that Veritaserum wouldn't be of use in her case, meaning they only had one other method. She had tried to lull Minerva into a state of carelessness, to distract her with simple and easy banter back and forth.
But Minerva expected the intrusion and had a strong Iron Gate in place as Mel hissed, "Legilimens."
Minerva could practically see Mel smacking into the brick wall which was her mind, and she knew that the witch had no chance of getting in—but then she considered their tactics with Veritaserum. Long continual attacks, hoping to weaken her.
Minerva considered this as Mel continued to batter hopelessly against her defenses. It would be easy for the first day, maybe even two. Minerva was powerful, focused, and stubborn. She had played these games with Severus Snape, so she certainly wasn't a novice. But eventually she would tire, Mellasandre would get in, and she would find the information which she sought.
She considered the alternative, and it almost made her smile. It was practically a game. She could save her energy by allowing Mellasandre in—it would be risky, certainly, but if she could allow the witch into her mind, but distract her with other thoughts and memories, she may be able to save her energy and fight them off for longer.
Mellasandre pulled back again, taking a sip from her own water bottle and trying to cover how tiring that experience had been. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as Minerva smirked. 'Kitten wants to play?' She thought to herself, 'Let's play.'
"Legilimens," she spoke again, putting more power behind her initial blow. Her expression was more than a little bit shocked as she suddenly tumbled straight forward into Minerva's memories. She grinned for a moment, enjoying her success, before realizing that she had fallen straight into a trap.
A short auburn haired girl ran through the gate of an old house outside of town, laughing madly as her mother chased after her. "Minerva Gwendolyn McGonagall! You stop right this instant; I know it was you who pushed Geoffrey Peck into that puddle!"
"Wasn't me, Mum!" she laughed mischievously, "I wasn't anywhere near him!"
Her mother practically growled as she grabbed hold of the nine year old, "You're not the only witch in the family, Minerva. I'm perfectly aware of what Petrificus Totalus does!"
Minerva smirked, "Must have gotten his laces tangled, Mum."
"He did not get his laces tangled Minerva! Don't you dare lie to me!"
"I'm not even in school yet, how could I have done that? I don't even have a wand!"
Her mother sighed heavily, leaning against the door of the house, "Minerva you're an advanced girl, and I know that. You're bored, and you're eager to go to school. You can do most of the magic first-year students know, and you can do it without a wand. But that doesn't mean you should. You should never hurt people Min, it's not right to control others that way."
Minerva looked at her feet, "Are you going to tell Da?"
"Not if you promise not to do that again," her mother said seriously.
"It was just a silly jinx."
Her mother shook her head, "A silly jinx will turn into a hex, which will turn into a curse. The next thing you know you'll be using dark magic and peeking into people's minds. Dark magic is quite good at sneaking in past a person's defenses; you mustn't give it any room to breathe."
The nine year old pouted slightly, "I would never be bad Mum, that jinx was just in good fun," she admitted, causing her mother to laugh lightly.
"Don't worry, I'm sure that we can have fun without bothering anyone," she teased, conjuring a few lone butterflies to flutter around the tip of her daughters nose. "Now, if you promise to be good, I won't tell your Da or brothers' a thing, and you and I can keep todays magic our little secret, alright?"
Minerva nodded happily, smiling as she watched the butterflies flutter into the wind.
Minerva was smiling broadly as the witch in front of her shuttered from the loss of the memory. "A bit jolting isn't it," she laughed, "spying on someone's memories that way?"
"I will find what I'm looking for," Mellasandre promised, and Minerva shook her head disappointedly.
"Did you learn anything, Mel? It's wrong to peak into other people's minds."
"Legilimens," she said again, glaring as Minerva smirked once more. This time she was less forceful, but more precise with what she was looking for. Unfortunately, that did nothing to deter Minerva's intended memory.
This time an older Minerva appeared, sitting in front of Albus Dumbledore's desk. She was in her thirties, and looked far from pleased to be sitting in front of the headmaster. "I feel like a moron, Albus. Honestly, having me practice Occlumens with my former student—who's also an ex-Death Eater?"
"Now Minerva, Severus is the best Legilimens I have met—he even taught me a thing or two. You have had plenty of practice with the basics, but it would do you well to be prepared against more offensive Occlumens than myself."
Minerva glared icily, "I somehow doubt that a 21 year old is going to teach me anything."
A deep baritone sounded behind her as he entered the room, "I wouldn't be so sure, Minerva."
"You may call me, Professor McGonagall, Mister Snape." She bit out, still unsure as to why Albus had hired the impolite young man.
He held his head high, "Very well, then you may call me Professor Snape."
She growled slightly, and was about to retort when Albus swiftly interrupted the two. "Minerva, I would remind you that if I am to offer you the Deputy Headmistress position at the end of this year, as I am inclined to do, I need to be able to trust that Hogwarts secrets will be safe. That requires a level of defense which you do not currently possess."
Minerva hissed in displeasure, but turned towards Severus, "Fine. We'll start tonight, you may follow me, Snape."
She left the room quickly, leaving Snape no room to argue as he followed behind. They walked silently through the halls for several moments before she finally spoke. "You will teach me, but you will not invade any of my personal memories. If you see anything which looks remotely personal, you are to go in the opposite direction. I am signing up to be taught, not to have my mind molested." She stopped suddenly in front of a portrait, "Are we quite clear?" she asked brusquely.
"Completely," He answered respectfully.
As his answer rang out in the memory Mellasandre tried to escape, to regain control, but found herself frozen as a swirl of color engulfed her and she was plunged into another memory.
Professor Snape's office stood before her, devoid of any personal effects. He slouched slightly, exhaustion clear on his face as he looked at the woman before him. She sat well poised with a tired, yet serious, expression on her face. Her hair was tied back in the customary bun, though several strands had recently escaped.
"Three hours," he breathed, "That's longer than Albus was able to hold out at this point."
She smiled lightly, "Albus is remarkably powerful, but he's not blessed with Scottish stubbornness."
Snape laughed softly, "Well done, Minerva. You've gotten quite good."
"Not good enough," she frowned, "You still broke through."
"Minerva you can't possibly expect to last forever. There will always be someone who can break through. The key is to be able to stand it long enough."
Her expression turned stony, "My thoughts and memories are mine alone, and no one will access them without my express permission."
He shook his head, "That's unrealistic, Minerva."
She smirked slightly, "With all due respect, Severus, you don't know me. I will never fold."
He nodded after a moment, "I will say this, if anyone could do it, it would be you," he paused for a moment, yawning, "I'm sorry Minerva, but can we continue this next week? I find that you have absolutely exhausted me, and I'm in for quite the migraine if I don't go to sleep soon."
She smiled, "Certainly Severus, get some rest. We will practice more next Monday."
Mellasandre jolted slightly as she returned to her own reality, a wave of dizziness and exhaustion surrounding her. "The following week it took him five hours," Minerva said softly from across the table. "And the following month he gave up after eight.
Mellasandre frowned deeply at the girl across the table, "You aren't going to frighten me away, Minerva. I will breach your defenses."
Minerva laughed musically, "Do you know who Severus Snape is child? He stood up to Lord Voldemort himself, and is the most powerful known Occlumens in our history. Do you really think you can do better than him?" Her opponent furrowed her eyebrows, considering what to do next, and Minerva just shrugged. "By all means, continue. I'm having a lovely time; I just wanted you to be aware of exactly what was coming."
Hope you enjoyed! Thank you all for reading, and for your patience in the more unhappy portion of this story! Thank you especially for your overwhelming support via Twitter and Reviews. Please keep it up! It helps more than you know!
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