Dumbledore was sitting alone in his office again. His eyes were focussed on the opposite wall and he looked distant and sad. It was past Easter. He had promised her she would be out before Christmas, and it was past Easter.
The door behind him opened.
"Hello, Albus."
"Professor Marchbanks," Dumbledore smiled, "Good afternoon."
She took a seat opposite him, "Griselda – please. You haven't been a student for many years now."
He nodded numbly, "Griselda."
"You look troubled, Albus."
"I am."
"May I ask why?"
He looked into her face. "I have made a mistake, Griselda, and someone is paying a terrible price."
"Can you right your mistake?"
"Not without breaking a promise, a sworn promise that must not be broken."
Her eyes scanned his face.
"Minerva McGonagall," she said.
He looked surprised.
"Your promise is to her, isn't it?"
Dumbledore stared.
"You know, I remember examining her for her OWLS," said Marchbanks, almost dreamily, "All Os I recall. And for her Transfiguration NEWT as well – a prodigious talent. I was sorry she was not there to sit the rest of her NEWTS the following year."
"So was I."
"Hmm," the witch sat back and looked at Dumbledore thoughtfully, "I'm going to make a guess, Albus. I am going to guess that your promise to young Miss McGonagall conceals some truly great deed of hers."
Dumbledore looked surprised.
Marchbanks smiled, "Because I suspect she is the sort of person to face the consequences of her sins face on, the sort who could more easily ask someone to conceal her good deeds than her wrongs. And you are the sort of man who would willingly disregard another's mistakes but would be far more haunted by the idea of denying a person's true merit. And you look like a haunted man."
"I saw her, Griselda," Dumbledore said sadly, his eyes focussed on the wall beyond, "I saw what years with the dementors have done to an innocent woman."
"You are certain she is innocent."
"Absolutely."
"And yet before you were sure of her guilt."
"I was a fool."
"Hmmm… I can't deny I liked what I saw of the girl. She had character."
"She still does," said Albus sadly, "Despite what those creatures are doing to her."
"You say she didn't intend to kill you, Albus, but you consistently fail to give a good explanation for her attempt at the killing curse."
Dumbledore looked at her, surprised.
Marchbanks grinned wickedly, "Sometimes," she confided softly, "When I am visiting my brother, I listen at doors. After all, how else is a dull, old examiner to get some excitement in her life?"
Dumbledore shook his head at her.
"I've tried everything Griselda, I can't make them see that she deserves to be released."
"She has to be released," added a voice from behind him.
They both looked up sharply.
"Why do you say that?" Marchbanks asked the Sorting Hat.
"Because she will be needed."
"When? And for what?"
"For Hogwarts."
It seemed the Hat would say no more.
Griselda Marchbanks sat thinking for a moment.
"Edgar has to work with facts and evidence, Albus, and you have given him none."
"I have shown him that she stopped before finishing the curse. That she saved my life in the end. Why can't that be enough? There is nothing else I can give them."
"Of course there is."
"No, Griselda. I can say no more without breaking my promise."
"Oh, Albus, sometimes you are such a Gryffindor."
"My promise –"
"Your promise means you can't tell them anymore of the truth, Albus. I imagine it doesn't prevent you from telling lies?"
Dumbledore stared at her silently.
Professor Marchbanks rolled her eyes slightly and then sat back in her chair and brought her fingers together in front of her face, thinking intently.
"Her brother was a spy for our side," she said finally, "And a hero. Order of Merlin, I believe?"
"Yes."
"The most plausible would be that her brother recruited her to spy also..." she looked sideways at Dumbledore and raised an eyebrow.
He shook his head.
She smiled, "Good, plausible and not breaking your promise..."
"Rex is dead, Griselda. I have no doubt he would have spoken for her if alive, but it is not possible now." Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "You know he only joined our side to save her."
"Then maybe we should give him the opportunity to succeed from beyond the grave."
"How?"
"We would need Rex to have confided the plan to someone," she looked up, "Or maybe a letter. With all my years of examining experience I have quite an extensive knowledge of handwriting charms - I'm sure I could create a convincing letter for someone to produce."
"Griselda!"
"I'm not a law enforcement employee, Albus," Marchbanks smiled, "Outside of examinations I can allow myself a little bending of the rules in a good cause. I trust you, and you trust her – so let's produce a letter and get her home."
Dumbledore sighed, "Nobody would believe it if I produced a letter now. And Edgar wouldn't lie for us, Griselda, you know that."
"Is there nobody else?"
"We were the contacts. Just us."
"There was nobody else from our side who had contact with Rex?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "We had to be careful."
"Wrong," said a determined voice behind Dumbledore's head.
Marchbanks looked up, again surprised by the interruption. "I'm sorry?"
"Professor Dumbledore is wrong," said the Sorting Hat. "One other person from our side had contact with Rex and Minerva."
"Who?"
"You know who, Albus."
"I don't."
"You always overlook him," sighed the Hat.
Griselda Marchbanks' eyes darted from the Hat to Dumbledore as she saw realisation dawning on his face.
"He would never help me," said Albus slowly, "Certainly never risk his own reputation for me..."
"So don't ask him for you," the Hat said wisely, "Instead tell him a story. Tell him the story of a man prepared to give up his shot at power, his safety and even his life to save his little sister. Then ask him to help that man."
There were tears in Dumbledore's eyes. "I don't know if I can," he whispered softly, "I'm not sure I have the words."
Griselda Marchbanks leaned forward and took his hand, "You must try, Albus. If the girl is as good as you say, you must try to find the words, for her."
He nodded, noticeably controlling his emotions.
"I will make preparations for the letter," Griselda said, getting to her feet, "And as far as I can I will prepare my brother's heart to receive it."
After she left the room Dumbledore turned to stare at the Hat.
"Take me with you," it said, "I will help you to convince Aberforth."
"Why?"
"What do you mean why?"
"You don't normally get involved."
"This is different."
"Why?"
"Because it's for Hogwarts."
"How?"
"You ask too many questions," huffed the Hat. "Are we going or not?"
Dumbledore rolled his eyes, but he lifted it carefully from the shelf.
