The Collision

Prologue

I should start from the beginning. But when did this all start? I don't know. How do you start a story that tells of your family's turmoil? How can you know for sure what really was the beginning of it all? Maybe it was a punishment for a sin long ago committed and forgotten. Maybe a destiny, but I don't believe in such things. Better said, I don't wish to believe that I'm not in control of my life. But can I honestly say that I controlled the events that followed the rise of the Dark Lord? Am I just fooling myself to feel better, to not feel responsible for my weakness that, I believe, has caused all this pain? I should have been wiser, I should have known better, I should have seen it all coming. But I failed. I, who above all cherished knowledge, intellect and logic fell into a trap like a foolish girl thinking I couldn't be outwitted, so sure that I'd passed all the obstacles in my way and avoided all snares. I failed to protect a child I'd sworn to always love and care for. I failed not one, but two men I loved. I was defeated at my own game. I, Minerva McGonagall, named after the Greek goddess of wisdom, one of the most praised minds of today's wizarding world, successfully transfigured myself into a foolish butterfly flying around the candle totally unaware of the danger. I failed, and I will regret my foolishness for as long I live.

Chapter #1; Past sins, present lies

"Minnie, please don't go," the ten year-old boy yelled pleadingly through tears after the tall girl. She instantly turned and smiled warmly at the boy.

"Leo, I have to go. You know that." She reached for the boy's face and tenderly dried his tears.

"But why?" cried the boy again, "Why can't you pause this year so we could go to Hogwarts next year together?"

She was almost crying now, too. But she resisted the urge and gave the boy her soon-to-be-famous stern look. "We discussed this ten times already!" She never allowed herself to cry in front of him, she hadn't cried since their mother died ten years ago bringing her brother into this world. He was crying desperately then like he already knew about the dark shadows waiting for him on his path. His cry pierced her heart then as it did now, but, as always, she knew her part and played it well.

"Merlin, give me strength for both of us!" quick thought crossed her mind. "If I stay with you now then next year one of us cannot go to Hogwarts. The money our father left us is running pretty low, dear. I have to go now and finish my education so I can get a job and start to pay off our debts. And besides, I am the Head Girl. I have numerous other responsibilities as well.

"Other responsibilities that are more important than me?" whined the boy, lowering his head in defeat.

Swallowing hard, she tried unsuccessfully to force down the lump in her throat. "Nothing is more important to me than you. Did you hear me?" Again she cradled his small face in her hands. "Nothing. Don't you ever forget that. I am doing this for you and for you alone. Now be good to Mrs. Gibbs and I promise I'll write to you every single day." The Hogwarts Express was starting to leave so she kissed her brother quickly on the forehead and jumped on the departing train. Through the window in the prefects' compartment she could see her little brother trying to wrestle himself out of Mrs. Gibbs' arms and run after the train. She waved to him until he became nothing more than a small black spot in the distance.

Only then, in the loneliness of her compartment, did she allow her thoughts to wander a little. She saw only her own face in the window now. With her big, beady eyes and long hair neatly put in braids she looked almost like a worriless child. But she wasn't a child. In fact, she could hardly remember ever being a child. At the age of seven, she and her newborn brother became orphans. True, their father was still alive, but only just. It took him another ten years to die by his own hand, but he was dead inside long before that. He died with his wife that night, and neither of his two children was enough to pull him out of the abyss of despair.

Sudden fierce hatred filled her heart and she clenched her hands into tight fists. "Damn you, Father! I hope you're rotting in Hell for what you did to Leo, for what you did to ME." She hissed at her own reflection. "And damn you a hundred times more for giving me your appearance so I have to remember your cowardice every time I look into the mirror." She abruptly turned her head from the window to avoid looking at herself any longer. She hated being desperate, hated being out of control, and hated the responsibility she had been forced to take on so early in her life. And, above all, she hated herself for letting her father's mistakes hurt her so badly.

A quiet sob tried to escape her lips but she pressed them tightly together. The McGonagall women were always strong and she was determined she would live up to that reputation.

* * *

"Funny how this old memories come back to haunt you when you least expect them to." Professor Minerva McGonagall mentally shook herself out of this pointless reverie and returned her attention to the meeting she had with the inner circle of newly found Order of the Phoenix.

"Three desperate people in the most desperate time of all," a treacherous little voice whispered from the back of her mind. "What difference can we make?"

* * *

That evening was a nightmare. No, worse than a mere nightmare. After all, a nightmare is nothing more than a product of a disturbed mind, but this...this was true. A reality at its worst.

As soon as Severus Snape apparated into the dungeons of the Malfoy Manor, he realised how huge mistake it was to come here. It was suicide. "And a rather painful one, I can expect." He could not suppress his famous sarcasm. "Severus, if you're ready...if you're prepared..." echoed Dumbledore's voice in his head. And the echo of his own voice returned, "Yes, headmaster."

"Hell yes. I'm not prepared, not for this I'm not!" desperate voice he could barely recognise as his own retorted before he could do anything to stop it. "Minerva was against this whole plan right from the start. She needn't to say so out loud, it was plastered all over her face." But he and the headmaster had won the argument. He was always good at that, persuading other people to do what he wanted them to do.

"Well, this is what I bargained for, is it not? The redemption at last, although I'm not going to stick around to witness it," he thought bitterly as he watched Lucius Malfoy, wearing his trademark sneer, approach him across the room.

"Oi, Sevvie, old chap! Just in time. You missed the party last time and I must say our Lord wasn't pleased. No, he wasn't pleased at all!" He grinned evilly at Severus who didn't do as much as blink at the very poorly hidden threat.

"I'll do the explaining when and if the Dark Lord arrives. He didn't actually make YOU his deputy so you'll excuse me for not giving apologies for my absence to you," Severus responded with silky voice, his most dangerous one.

"Well, while you're waiting in anticipation may I offer you something that'll, I'm sure, ease your worries a little bit?" Lucius asked, false servility in his voice. "An entertainment, a small gift from our Lord. Unfortunately, you will have to share it with our loyal followers as well...ah, yes, here it is!" He gestured triumphantly toward the two hooded Death Eaters carrying a young woman. It was impossible even to guess what she looked like. Her naked body was covered in bruises and blood, her hair a wild tangle plastered over her face and half closed eyes. She was bleeding from many wounds and shivering violently: still alive but only just.

"Well...what do you say?" Lucius exclaimed happily and strode over to the girl. He then grabbed her by the hair, violently yanked her head up and forced her to look him in the eyes. And her eyes...Severus barely suppressed a shiver and tried hard not to show his horror as Lucius continued as if he were chatting about foul weather. Looking into her eyes was like looking into endless pools of despair and pain. In them was the same expression he saw in the mirror every morning. Her eyes pleaded for mercy, pleaded for death to come and put an end to her suffering.

As he looked into them, he was able to catch only little pieces of what Lucius was saying.

"--Minerva and Dumbledore--" Hearing these two names had the effect of icy cold water on his troubled mind.

"What did you say, Lucius?" he spat acidly, as the sickening feeling he had felt from the moment the girl was brought in intensified. This was a test; if he was ever sure about anything in his life, he was sure about that.

"I was saying," responded Lucius slowly as if he was explaining to a dumb child that two and two made four, "that this piece of filth--" There he stopped to spit in the girl's face as though he could disgrace her even more. "This pitiful excuse of a witch is Our Lord's very special gift to that old Muggle-loving goat Dumbledore and his slut of a deputy Minerva. Can you imagine...Minerva's own daughter, the last descendant of the once pure and proud McGonagall family, raised as a filthy Muggle! Maybe He would allow us to deliver her in pieces. I would like that. That would show that bastard--"

"Enough!" Snape interrupted, unable to bear maniacal glitter in Lucius' eyes. "You're a fool, Malfoy! Minerva has no children. And if she had any, she would definitely raise them to be wizards. Even a Gryffindor, as much I despise them, wouldn't be so stupid as to leave her child defenceless." But a sickening feeling prevented him from believing his own words. For a second, he saw Lucius' confidence shake a little bit.

"Be that as it may, the Dark Lord specifically asked for this girl. Now, do you intend to use your turn with the girl or...maybe, you're not what you pretend to be."

"I never cared for the petty, idiotic activities that you call entertainment." Acid poured from Snape's mouth but his eyes never left hers. "Do with her as you please, kill her if that'll make you happy or mate with her." His lips curled at last three words. "I couldn't care less, just don't force me to enjoy it too long," he finished, his eyes still not leaving hers, which were now filled not just with terror but with hatred as well. He concentrated on the hatred. It was familiar ground; he'd seen it oh-so-many times, first in the eyes of his victims and later in the eyes of his students. Very slowly, he returned his gaze to Lucius, who turned and busied himself with the girl.

The idle expression on Severus' face as he watched Lucius exhibit his perversities couldn't be further from the storm that raged in his head "It can't be...Minerva never...she wouldn't keep it a secret, surely--" Incoherent thoughts raced through his mind, and then, all of the sudden, formed a single crystalline, pure thought, "I need to get her out. Now."

Why, he could not tell. Was this death the final straw? What did one more death mean to a man who had seen hundreds of more horrible deaths, many innocent people die, many women tortured and raped, whole families slaughtered? What could one death among so many others mean to him? What was so special about this particular woman that forced him to jeopardise his role as a spy? Maybe it was the sudden realisation that his masks fell off revealing him as a turncoat, a traitor. Maybe it was the intense, sickening feeling he got after hearing about her purpose as a "gift". Or maybe it was the abyss of desperation and resignation he saw in her eyes, the expression he knew all too well.

Whatever it was, the moments that followed became clouded, as if he was walking through a very thick mist only he could see. The next thing he knew, Severus found himself next to Lucius with his wand pointed at him. A second later he landed at the edge of the Forbidden Forrest, clutching the limp body of Voldemort's monstrous gift. He was at Hogwarts, his shelter, the only home he knew, where too soon his worst fears would be confirmed.