A/N: Thank you so much for all of the messages & reviews after the last chapter.

For the disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Twenty-Two: February 1944, Pt. I

"Watch it, Min!" Aidan cried as he ducked quickly, narrowly avoiding the hex flying towards his head. "We're only practicing! You don't need to take my head off!"

"Aidan," Minerva huffed, clearly tired, "for it to be called practice, I need to actually push myself to my limits. If I go easy on you, I'll be ridiculously disadvantaged during the actual task."

He sent a Stupefy her way that she dismissed easily. "Honestly, Min, I get it, but you're used to practicing with Dumbledore. I'm nowhere near as talented as him! I can't fight back the way he does." Trying to do just that, Aidan hurled an onslaught of curses her way.

Her thoughts disrupted at the mention of Albus, Minerva cast a Protego, too shocked to respond in any meaningful way. She dropped her wand in exhaustion and staggered back against the wall. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. You didn't kill me. And if you had, I would have just been a ghost and haunted you for the rest of your life." Aidan tried to elicit a laugh from her, but all he managed to extract was a weak smile. "Min, the task is tomorrow. You really should take a break. You look worse than Slughorn that time he ate seven pumpkin pasties and had to waddle to the Hospital Wing."

"No, we can't stop." Minerva rolled her shoulders back, returning to full height. "If I had been training with Al-Dumbledore, we would have been much further along by now. I'll practice all night if I have to."

"For someone as smart as you are, that's a really stupid decision. You need your sleep for tomorrow. At any rate, I'll need sleep sooner rather than later," he frowned at her. "Can't you just ask Dumbledore to come and help you out with some last-minute training?"

"No!" Minerva snarled, plunging her hands into her robes and uncovering a well-read piece of parchment. "You read his last note, same as me. He said I need to be proficient in my offensive spells. We're doing exactly as he suggested."

"But if you were practicing with him, I wouldn't be tired, and you'd know exactly what you need to do," Aidan pointed out, not unfairly. "I still don't understand why he's sending you letters now. You see him in class almost every day; he could easily just talk to you and then pop in and help us one of these days."

"Aidan, I told you," Minerva sighed deeply. "He's busy balancing the war effort and his duties as Deputy Headmaster at the same time. I'm not his responsibility."

"You will be when he realizes how he completely screwed you over by leaving you in my eager but incapable hands," Aidan retorted. "Want to go over the clue again? Maybe that will help us refocus."

Minerva glared at him, walking over to the table where she had placed the vial from the first task. "Aidan, we've gone over it so many times. It legitimately doesn't help us."

"That's not true, Min. You're just frustrated because it doesn't tell us everything. It tells us some things." Aidan joined her at the table, scrutinizing the green vial in his hands. "We know it resembles a medicinal potion meant for victims of head injuries."

"Yes, and what exactly does that tell me? That I'm going to be whacked over the head?"

"You never know! Now we know to make sure you have a helmet on at all times," Aidan joked.

Minerva slapped his shoulder. "Really? That's your inventive solution? Protective headgear?"

"It could come in handy," Aidan said defensively. "Have you tried tasting the potion?"

"I'm not going to ingest an unknown potion with potential side effects, Aidan."

"Okay, well, what if we pour it back into a bowl and poke at it? Maybe there are tea leaves or something, like Divination." Minerva stared at him, and he shifted uncomfortably. "I know you hate the subject, but you never-"

"Aidan, that's brilliant. How come you didn't once think of that over the past few months?" Minerva jumped up and started searching for a suitable container.

"I've been a bit preoccupied," Aidan muttered, and Minerva felt the air change alongside his mood.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to say anything," Minerva began, pausing her search to look at him, "but I did hear your fight on Valentine's Day."

"Min, everyone in the castle heard that fight," Aidan groaned. He started to help her, opening various cupboards in the classroom. "That's just been one of many lately."

Minerva winced, thinking back to the argument. It had happened in the Gryffindor common room, culminating with Charlotte accusing him of putting the war effort before herself. Aidan had screamed back at her, claiming that she was selfish and that she didn't understand him after their two years together. The event had been the talk of Gryffindor tower ever since. "Aidan, you'll figure it out."

"Right, like you and Michael?" Aidan scoffed. Minerva turned ashen, and he swallowed hard, remorseful. "I'm sorry, Min, that didn't come out-"

She held up her hand. "I know what you meant to say, Aidan. Obviously, Michael and I are no longer a couple, and while that is awkward, our love...wasn't mutual." Minerva sighed wearily, too emotionally occupied to think about her failed relationship, or, more precisely, why it had failed. "I didn't feel the same way, and that was a hard conversation. You and Char are different, though. You two love each other, and you've been together for a long time. It's only natural to have a rough patch."

"Min, you've never spoken in cheap platitudes before. Don't start now." Aidan looked at her with a soft smile. "What do you really want to say?"

"Only that if her view of the future is incompatible with your own, it may be best to end it. Otherwise, it's delaying the inevitable."

"Not everyone can be as rational as you. And," Aidan paused, "it's hard to let go of something that you've put so much time and energy into. I still love her, and I'm going to fight hard to make it work."

Minerva reached over and squeezed his hand. "As long as you're fighting for something and not just fighting to say that you did, I'll support you. Now, what do you say we attempt to read the tea leaves of this harbinger of doom?" She held up a suitable bowl.

"I'm oddly excited for this," Aidan admitted, watching as Minerva poured the liquid into the bowl. He frowned as an unpleasant odour wafted into the air. "Merlin, is the trick that they're trying to kill you before the task tomorrow?"

"Hush," Minerva scolded absentmindedly. "Do you have your Divination textbook on you, by chance? We need to read these leaves."

"Um, Min, I know you dropped Divination, but normally you have to drink the potion first. I know you said you didn't want to, but that's the only way that the leaves will appear. I'm sorry I tricked you." Aidan reached into his bag and pulled out the text. "If it's any consolation, I do have the book. I can be your personal interpreter once you've drunk that nasty liquid."

Minerva glared at him, annoyed. "Do you happen to have Poppy on standby in case this goes horribly wrong?"

"No, but I seriously doubt they'd want to kill you before the task. I'm sure they'd want the drama to occur onstage, so to speak."

"Charming, Aidan." Minerva rolled her eyes and plucked up her courage. "In for a penny, in for a pound." She closed her eyes and gulped it down, feeling a disturbing warmth run through her.

After a few moments, Aidan peered at her curiously. "Well, you don't look dead. How did it taste?"

"Like heat." She shook her head. "That was strange. I feel warm and tingly all over."

"Should I get Madam Prewett?" His voice was anxious. "Or Poppy?"

"No, just read the damn leaves. I don't want this to have been in vain." Minerva swirled the bowl around slightly like Professor Olivier had taught her. Once it settled, she pushed it across the desk to Aidan. "What shall I face tomorrow, oh wise one?"

"Alright, soooo," Aidan drew out the syllable as he flipped through the book. "I can't see the cup beneath the leaves, which usually means something bad is coming your way."

"I could have told you that without the potion," Minerva commented drily. "What else?"

"There appears to be the letter n." Aidan looked up at her. "What's bad that starts with an n?"

"Nargles? Nifflers?"

"Do nargles even exist? In any event, in case there are nifflers, don't wear any jewelry or anything. Those things can get nasty," Aidan shuddered. "Wait, I see a cross here, too. A cross usually means your passage is blocked. There are some half-circles if you look at it from this angle." He tilted his head to the side, hair flopping over his eyes. "According to Professor Olivier's holy grail here, that means sleep."

"At this rate, I won't be getting any sleep." Uncharacteristically, Minerva slid into a seat and threw her head on the table. "I already knew I had to face obstacles. Does this mean I'll have to do it while sleepwalking?"

"I mean, that could be terrifying," Aidan offered. "I don't think- oh, hi there, Professor Dumbledore."

Minerva's head shot up upon hearing Albus' name. Other than the briefest of interactions required for her Head Girl duties, she and Albus hadn't spent any time together outside of class since their talk on Christmas day. "Hi, Professor."

Albus nodded briefly at them. "I am sorry to intrude, but Miss McGonagall is required for last-minute preparations for the task tomorrow."

"I sure hope these preparations include you duelling her in my stead because I am way too exhausted to do any more of that tonight," Aidan laughed. "See you tomorrow, Min. Good evening, Professor."

"Good evening, Mr. Scrimgeour." Aidan exited the room, and the two remaining occupants stared at each other in silence. There was an uneasiness between them now, and Minerva didn't know how to fix it. Eventually, Albus coughed. "You need to bring the vial from the first task with you. You'll need to drink it under Madam Prewett's supervision."

Minerva flushed. "Well, Professor, I already drank it."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I see. Just now, I presume, if the empty vial on the desk is any indication?"

"I just drank it a few minutes ago. Aidan and I thought that its tea leaves might give us a clue to the task tomorrow. We got something out of the exercise, but not enough to be meaningful, I'm afraid." Minerva looked at him almost shyly, unsure if he still wanted to hear about her trials and errors. "If it's meant for me to drink it with medical supervision, am I in danger?"

"No, you're not in danger," Albus smiled slightly. "It just means that you figured out a clue that no one else has been able to decipher. The other three champions showed up to the Hospital Wing looking rather worse for wear, unable to figure it out."

"How do you know? I can't imagine Madame Dubois would let you watch Madam Prewett prepare Élodie for the task."

"I have my ways, Miss McGonagall," Albus said mysteriously. "Now, we really should get you over there."

"If we need to be examined after ingesting the potion," Minerva frowned, trying to keep pace with him as they walked, "isn't it rather risky to have given it to us three months ago? What would have happened to me if I had ingested it right after the last task?"

"It's charmed to stay in your system until the procedure has been completed."

"So you're telling me I would have felt warm and tingly for three months? Wait, what do you mean by procedure?" She struggled to keep up with him. "Professor, please slow down."

Albus stopped abruptly, looking down at her. "I do apologize. It's been a while since we've walked toge-

"I understand. There's no need to apologize," Minerva grimaced, wanting to heed off any line of conversation that would lead to more awkwardness.

He nodded briskly, and they continued walking at a slower pace. "To answer your questions, yes, you would have felt...different for a few months. Uncomfortable, I know, but the Ministry doesn't care much for the comfort of its champions." Albus pursed his lips as they approached the Hospital Wing. "And unfortunately, you're about to discover what I mean by 'procedure'. I sincerely regret that you have to endure this, Miss McGonagall."

She looked at him bewilderedly and followed him into the infirmary. Madam Prewett was there, looking tense. The Headmaster and Mr. Bagman, the Ministry official who had introduced the Goblet of Fire to the students, watched Albus and Minerva approach them.

"Good evening, Miss McGonagall!" Dippet bobbed his head in greeting. "Thank you for retrieving the last of our champions this evening, Albus."

"It wasn't a problem." Albus' tone was on edge, and if Minerva were to wager a guess, she would bet that Albus had volunteered to collect her. "She had already ingested the potion, so we can proceed directly to the next step."

"Oh, good. Now, Miss McGonagall, if you'll just have a seat here," Madam Prewett said kindly, gesturing to the empty chair between them. "I'll need you to relax and roll up the sleeves of your robes, okay?"

Minerva looked at Albus, but he was staring firmly at the wall. "May I ask what is about to happen, Madam Prewett?"

Mr. Bagman jumped in. "You'll see, Miss McGonagall, that it's a procedure- well, not so much a procedure as a collection, really, but we just need something from you in order to finish designing tomorrow's task."

"That hasn't been done yet?" Minerva's tone was incredulous. She knew from Callum that the Ministry was incompetent, but she didn't think it was this far-reaching. "The task begins in the morning, and you're telling me you haven't yet determined what it is?"

"No, not to worry, Miss McGonagall," Dippet smiled. "It's been designed, but this collection, as Mr. Bagman so aptly put it, is for the finishing touches, as it were."

"And what, pray tell, are you collecting from me?" Minerva sat in the chair, not quite relaxed. The four adults avoided her question, and she eventually snapped. "Honestly, I'm sure you told the other three, and I have a right to know what medical procedure I'm about to endure."

"It's your memories, Miss McGonagall." Albus' voice pierced through the room. "Memories, dreams, nightmares, hopes, wishes, feelings." His eyes met hers, and she suddenly remembered a conversation they'd had during which he had warned her that the second task was personalized to the champions. This was about as personal as they could make it.

"I see," Minerva forced out grimly. "Alright then, what do you need from me, Madam Prewett?"

"Just close your eyes, dear. You'll feel a warmth -particularly in your forearms- and your head will hurt for a few minutes after. The entire procedure only takes about thirty seconds." The matron's face was kind, and Minerva could appreciate the extent to which the older lady was trying to make her comfortable.

"I trust your capable hands. You haven't led me astray before," Minerva smiled at her before closing her eyes. "Alright, I'm ready."

"Okay, good. Now, I will hold your head. Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore will hold your arms while Mr. Bagman collects your memories."

"What?" Minerva's eyes flew open, wildly meeting Albus' across the room. She couldn't have him touch her, not again, and especially not in front of the room's other occupants. "What's happening?"

"I think it might be better if I collect her memories, Lavinia." Albus rescued her smoothly. "I'm afraid I didn't have a restful sleep last night, and the magic I exerted helping to finish the task has me feeling more exhausted than I otherwise would. I apologize if it's an inconvenience, but I do not wish to compromise the integrity of the procedure, nor harm Miss McGonagall unwittingly."

"Oh, alright," Madam Prewett said slowly, looking at her colleague carefully. "Are you feeling well, Albus?"

"Perfectly fine, Lavinia. There's no need to worry; however, I may steal a Pepper-Up potion from your stores, if that's agreeable."

"Of course," Madam Prewett tutted, then turned to face Minerva. "Mr. Bagman will take your arm instead, dear."

"Thank you," Minerva muttered. She looked at Albus before closing her eyes again. "I promise I'm ready this time."

"Don't worry, it's normal to be a little nervous. Albus, here's the vial. Everyone else ready?" Minerva could hear them situating themselves around her. "Now."

Instantly, her head throbbed and her arms tingled. She could feel Dippet and Bagman extracting the warmth from her, slowly but surely, and the sudden loss of it made her gasp. Her body was ice-cold now, and her mind was blank. Desperately trying to feel something other than cold, she dug her fingernails into her palms. The pain and the chill caused tears to leak out of her eyes. Minerva felt the cold press of the vial against her cheek, and she leaned into the feeling, waiting for it to be over.

"Well done, dear," Madam Prewett's touch eventually turned soft. "It's all over. You can open your eyes."

Minerva opened her eyes and immediately squinted, the light too strong for her liking. "Am I free to go?"

"I'll have you wait a few minutes here under supervision, and then you can head back to your dormitory." Madam Prewett ran diagnostic spells over her. "Your body seems to be handling the magic well, but given what tomorrow will bring, I'd rather be safe than sorry." She turned to the men. "Albus, could you watch her? I have to go check on the Hufflepuffs from earlier, and these two have Ministry business to attend to, if I'm not mistaken."

"Right you are, Lavinia! We need to put this vial with the others and then finish setting up for tomorrow's task. We'll see you tomorrow, Miss McGonagall." Dippet left the room, followed by Bagman. Madam Prewett swept along the beds, obviously intent on finding her other students.

"What happened to the Hufflepuffs?" Minerva asked Albus.

"They thought it would be fun to see how many of them could fit through the kitchen door at the same time," Albus laughed. "It was a bit of a scene, and some limbs had to be shrunken and resized. There appears to be no lasting damage done, but Lavinia likes to be sure of things."

"Her mantra is definitely 'safe, not sorry,'" Minerva agreed. She looked down at her hands and then back up. "I'm sorry that you have to wait here with me."

"It'll only be a few minutes. It's not an inconvenience. Besides, you are my student, and I am charged with your care," Albus told her. "I would sit at any of my student's bedsides if asked by Lavinia."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "I'm well aware of that, but I was more so referring to the awkwardness that now accessorizes our every conversation. It's not fun to dwell in it."

"I have missed your candour," Albus admitted. "And your red quill."

"Well, that's what happens when you cut off personal contact with someone. You miss the good things." Minerva held up her hand, forestalling his argument. "I understand why you did it, particularly after tonight."

Albus opened his mouth and promptly closed it again, content to look at her for a moment. "Do you feel prepared for tomorrow?"

"I feel as prepared as I can be," Minerva sighed. "While I'm still not sure what the tea leaves were telling us, Aidan and I have been duelling and practicing almost every evening. It's been a bit of a mess, what with our patrol schedules, but we've made it work. He's an excellent duelist, but I'll confess that he's not at your level. And," she laughed, "he doesn't let me break his bones like you do."

"I can't say I blame him for that," Albus grinned. "Your spells have quite the kick."

Minerva smiled, "I'll take that as a compliment. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, I'm sure you will. I don't imagine I could extricate myself from visiting the champions' tent very easily. Not when I don't have a valid reason to give my colleagues," Albus hesitated and looked down at his watch. "It's been a few minutes, and you seem right as rain to me. If I were you, I'd head to Gryffindor Tower and get some sleep. You'll need your rest."

"Thank you, Professor," Minerva stood. "I appreciate it. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well, Miss McGonagall." His tone was almost sad, and it broke Minerva's heart to hear. Nodding simply, she headed out of the Hospital Wing. She was halfway home when she heard Rowena shouting.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Honestly, playing with exploding snap just before curfew?" Rowena exclaimed, nearly exploding herself.

Minerva sighed, rounding the corner and pulling on her Head Girl demeanour. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, hi, Min." Rowena's cheeks flushed pink. "This lot decided to keep half the castle awake."

Looking at the terrified trio before her, Minerva guessed they were second-year students who didn't quite know better just yet. "We'll let you go with a warning, alright? Head straight to your dormitories, and don't do this again. Is that clear?"

There was a scuffling as they nodded and ran away, tripping over their robes. Rowena exhaled deeply. "Thanks, Min. I was getting a little angry."

"A little?" Minerva smirked, but her eyes were kind. While she and Rowena had been friends since they were children, their friendship while at Hogwarts had been sporadic at best. They saw each other when they could, but being sorted in different houses had made socializing difficult for the two busy ladies. Their friendship was constant, though, and both knew the other would be there for them in an instant. "What's going on, Ro?"

"You're going to think I've lost my mind," Rowena groaned. She slid down the wall onto the floor, and Minerva joined her. "It's the person I'm seeing. We got in a fight, and now I don't know what to do about it."

"I have no room to judge there," Minerva sighed. Rowena smiled sympathetically at her. "How long have you been seeing this person?"

"Since just before Christmas. We went to the Ball together, and it escalated from there."

Sardonically, Minerva was happy that the Yule Ball had been a joyous occasion for someone. "I don't recall seeing you dance with anyone."

"That would be because I'm dating a woman, and the old dances are very patriarchal in their design."

"Ah." Minerva bit her lip. "I'm sorry you couldn't be there together properly."

Rowena smiled shyly. "I'm not. We're both not ready to be public about dating anyone, and it gave us more of an excuse to talk when we didn't want to dance anymore. It was so cute, though, Min. On New Years' Eve, she actually snuck out of her common room to come to surprise me. It was such a lovely gesture."

Minerva's eyes widened. "You're Poppy's mystery date?"

"How did you put that together so quickly?"

"Because," Minerva laughed, "I was Poppy's cover when the rest of the dorm wondered where she was. You should have told her that we were such good friends; she probably would have asked someone else."

"Probably," Rowena agreed, "but I'm happy you know. It's nice to open up to a friend."

"I can imagine," Minerva murmured. She thought about Albus and her conflicting emotions, and just how much she wished she could talk to Rowena about the entire situation. Unfortunately, there were too many risks, and the last thing she needed was someone overhearing such a conversation in the corridors. "You two will be okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Poppy's just nervous about the tournament and the war and all of the injured people whose lives will forever be changed. You know the story. You probably hear more of it, seeing as you live with her. Enough about me, though," Rowena grinned cheekily. "How are you faring, miss champion? Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"I don't know anymore," Minerva said honestly. If she couldn't open up about her heart, surely she could talk about what was on her mind. "I was on my way back from the Hospital Wing. Madam Prewett performed some sort of procedure on me to extract my memories and feelings. I'm uneasy about what that means for tomorrow."

Rowena stared at her, considering. "You had a clue for the task, right? What was it?"

"It was the potion that I had to drink before Madam Prewett could extract my thoughts. Aidan and I tried to look at the tea leaves. All we could decipher was the letter n, and that I'd have to face obstacles, which we already knew. Oh, and something about sleep."

"And Madam Prewett extracted not only memories, but thoughts, feelings, et cetera?" At Minerva's nod, a rueful smile grew on Rowena's lips. "Min, I'm shocked you couldn't figure it out. The n stands for nightmares. You'll most likely need to face your nightmares."

Minerva gaped at her friend, both thankful for her Ravenclaw brain and embarrassed that she hadn't come to that conclusion herself. "I'm not sure I feel better knowing that."

"No one ever regretted having more knowledge," Rowena replied, somewhat flippantly. Minerva raised her eyebrow but didn't have the energy to argue. She could think of many a time when she would have rather adhered to the "ignorance is bliss" doctrine. "In the interest of time, you should get to bed. Try to sleep without dreaming. You'll feel better. Good luck tomorrow. You'll do well." Rowena squeezed her hand and gracefully hauled herself off the floor, leaving Minerva to ponder the pros and cons of a dreamless slumber in her cat form.

"Good morning, champions!" Dippet called excitedly as he entered the tent the next morning. The rest of the relevant staff clamoured in behind him, like his own personal entourage, and Minerva stifled a laugh at the thought. Her eyes quickly found Albus', who nodded kindly at her. "Today, you'll each be running a different course at the same time. You'll be in separate areas of the quidditch pitch, confined to your own individual quadrant. Within it, you will face your personal worst imaginings and fears.

"The objective is simple: make it through your section, collect the item at the end - you'll need it for the last task - and get out. We judges will be able to see how you perform while you're in the task. Not to worry," Dippet added, "we won't be able to see the exact composition of your nightmares. We value your privacy far more than that. Instead, we'll evaluate how you handle whatever comes your way: we'll track your spells, assess your movements, et cetera. It isn't a timed event, but if you manage to escape with speed while showcasing impressive capabilities, your score will reflect that. Any questions?"

Everyone stayed silent. Minerva, having known about the nightmares, was wearing a grim but determined expression. Élodie appeared to be nonchalant, but Vlad was visibly nervous. Even Riddle looked slightly anxious at the thought of confronting his demons. Dippet looked around the room and when no questions were forthcoming, he continued, "Alright, then. We best get on with it. We'll accompany you to your starting places. Mr. Riddle, please follow me."

"Miss McGonagall, would you please follow me?" Albus looked down at her. "I am to take you to the starting position."

Minerva nodded, content to put this entire task behind her. "I'll repeat what I asked you the last time, since it worked so well for me: any last advice?"

Albus chuckled as they walked. "Be brave, and remember it's all from your own head, your own mind. You created whatever you'll find in there. You can defeat it, too."

"That's quite poetic," Minerva remarked, "but I shall take your advice to heart." They turned a corner, and Minerva caught sight of a pedestal with her name on it. "So this is it, then?"

"Be brave, and remember, you are the master of your mind. And when you want to be, you're damn good at invading the minds of others." He allowed a wistful smile to cross his face. "Do what is required of you to survive uninjured. There are no rules in this task, nor rewards for taking the high road."

"Thank you," Minerva uttered, her throat catching as she realized what she was about to face. An urge came over her to grab his hand, and she did so, allowing herself to truly relish the thrill of his touch for the first time. "I'll do what I can."

Albus looked at her, startled, and then down at his hand in wonder. "Please, see that you do." He retreated back down the tunnel, and Minerva walked resolutely onto the platform. She felt a shield charm go up around her, and Dippet's voice rang out, counting down. Five, four, three, two...

One.

The charms disappeared, and a door opened in front of her. Taking one last look at the room behind her, Minerva stepped through. It slammed shut behind her, making her jump. She quickly absorbed her surroundings in an attempt to get her bearings. The ground was a colossal chessboard; she was in the place of the white queen. There appeared to be no immediate threat. She sighed, wishing she had taken more time to try to learn how to play chess instead of merely attempting to best Albus.

Knowing that the white pieces always moved first, Minerva tried to urge her pawn forward. "Pawn to B3." It didn't budge. Think. This isn't a typical chess match. It's in your head. You're the queen. This is your nightmare. What's the most terrifying thing you could imagine? She racked her brain. There were many horrific situations that she had imagined over the years. With a sinking feeling, her mind solved the puzzle: she only played chess with Albus. If Minerva were the queen in this scenario, he was the king, waiting on the other side. Much like in real life, it would unquestionably be herself who would need to jump through hoops for him. All she could do was pray that this nightmarish Albus wouldn't cause her significant bodily injury.

Slowly, Minerva walked off of the square and towards the other side of the board. Interestingly, the pieces all resembled different people in her life. Among her white pieces, she found Callum, Aidan, Lucy, Charlotte, Rowena, even Michael. The black pieces were comprised of the Hogwarts staff. Professors Carter, Olivier, and Johnson were there alongside Madam Prewett and the Headmaster. Just like she had surmised, Albus was at the back, standing staunchly in the king's position. He was still and silent until she was within earshot.

"Oh, my dear," Albus smiled. "You found me. What do you have to give me?"

Minerva stared at him. "What?"

To her horror, his chess pieces turned on her, animatedly pointing their wands at her, chanting threats. Albus silenced them with a wave of his hand. "You came all the way across the chessboard. You must have something for me."

"I don't have anything for you," she said slowly. While she knew this was her nightmare, she had no control over the situation. A sense of dread blossomed within her.

"Are you sure?" Albus' eyes turned cold, and his head began to enlarge. He reminded Minerva of the Alice in Wonderland books her mother had read to her. Minerva had been terrified of them; the creatures had tormented her nightmares for weeks. Her eyes not once leaving Albus' ever-growing head, she realized how deeply into her subconscious they had gone to retrieve this particular nightmare.

"I don't know what you want." Minerva's voice grew rather desperate, and she clutched her wand tightly.

"My dear," Albus stood, drawing himself up to his full, impressive height, "I believe that you do. I am, after all, the King of Hearts. And I believe you want to give me yours."

"How do I give you my heart?" Her voice wavered, seeing this obstacle for what it was. "I can't just cut it out of me!"

"No? How unfortunate," Albus sneered. "Alright, then. You sealed your fate, my dear. Pawns, bishops, rooks: off with her head!"

Minerva squealed and ducked as spells came flying at her from all directions. Seeing no other way out, she transformed into her Animagus form and expertly weaved herself around the enthusiastic pieces. She retreated to the middle of the chessboard and changed back into a human, happy for the distance. Duelling was something she could handle.

"Reducto!" she cried. Her wrist flicked as she cast the spell across the chessboard, throwing her opponents back against the wall. Twisting her wand, she tied them together, causing them to collide with a satisfying crack. She swallowed as this "King of Hearts" version of Albus turned towards her, fury emanating off his body.

"I don't like to fight people I love," Albus drawled, "but you've taken out my entire army."

"Oh, shut up," Minerva muttered. Knowing her odds of besting him in a full-fledged duel were highly unlikely, she quickly sent a Stupefy in his direction, followed by a stinging hex and a head-shrinking spell. That ought to keep him busy, Minerva thought, once again taking her feline form as she sprinted past him. To her horror, at the end of the chessboard, the ground disappeared from beneath her.

She screamed as she catapulted through the air, transforming back into her human self. The breeze rushed by her, piercing her ears and stinging her eyes. Memories started to appear in the air around her as she fell; this never-ending chute was rapidly becoming a Pensieve. Minerva could see herself talking to Riddle at Slughorn's Ball the night that he marked her arm. There were the times that she had ended up at the Hospital Wing. Christmas with Callum, Diana, and their parents. Dancing with Albus. All of the voices from the memories wafted around her, building to a crescendo.

They stopped shouting abruptly, and Minerva was thankful for the reprieve. Still suspended in the air, she held her wand out, prepared for whatever would come next. She felt a slow, almost methodical chill creeping over her. Sickened, Minerva discovered that the air around her was freezing. The light started to dim, and her teeth began to chatter. With dawning comprehension, she rotated herself as best as she could manage in the air and shrieked loudly.

Dementors were circling her, an ominous hum radiating from their presence. The fear took over her now; she hated feeling powerless, yet there was nothing she could do to stop it. They bobbed in the air, approaching her slowly, and Minerva imagined that this must be what it felt like to await execution. There was nothing to be found anywhere around her: no secret passageway, no slide, no ladder out of the air. She had run out of road, so to speak, and could do nothing but bob alongside the dementors in the air. Resigned to her fate, she gripped her wand tightly and tried to cast the only counter-spell she knew. "Expecto Patronum!"

All that came out of her wand was a thin wisp of white smoke that evaporated the instant it hit the cold air. After the incident in the Hospital Wing, she had worked hard to perfect her patronus. Unfortunately, Minerva had managed to cast a full-form patronus only twice: once with Albus, and again with Aidan. Neither time had been done with overwhelming success, and it didn't seem likely that she would be able to replicate even those poor performances. Crying out in frustration, Minerva tried again and again and again. Each attempt left her feeling colder than the last, continuously suspended in the air.

The darkness seeped into her soul and penetrated her mind. A fear rooted itself into her stomach, blooming throughout her body, and she was so, so tired. Her eyes were closing, and she knew that was not indicative of anything good. She hoped Albus wouldn't be too disappointed in her if the Ministry officials had to come in and save her.

Albus.

Thinking of him gave her the slightest flutter of hope. He wouldn't be disappointed in her; he wanted her to be safe. That was his only expectation. His love and protection set her soul on fire, warming her from the inside out. Minerva's mind travelled to their first private conversation when he had told her they shared the hatstall experience. When he had kept her safe from Riddle. When he had visited her in the Hospital Wing. When they had danced together, and it had felt like the world didn't matter as long as his eyes were on hers. With renewed vigour, she sent her very last drops of energy to her wand: "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

This time there was no fight. A bright, silver light shot out of her wand forcefully, followed by her signature cat patronus. The cat bounded towards the dementors, who fell away smoothly. Minerva barely had time to gather her bearings before she was falling again.

Finally, she crashed into a body of water, the shock of the impact causing her to yelp. Tentatively feeling for the ocean floor, Minerva tiptoed her way through the water, attempting to find shallower waters. She discovered that, impossibly, as reaching the ground became more manageable, the water level seemed to rise around her. Inhaling deeply, she dived down into the water. Her wand lit the way as she swam, attempting to discern which direction would see her escape from this hell the quickest.

Something clutched at her leg, and if Minerva hadn't been underwater, she was sure that her scream would have been blood-curdling. Inferi were rising up from the depths of the ocean floor. They were sliding towards her, their skeletal forms adorned with sheared hair and cracked teeth. She had no knowledge of who they were, but they all felt familiar. If Minerva really looked, she could perhaps find Callum's smile, or even Rowena's eyes...

But time was not a luxury she could afford, and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to search for her friends within the faces of her enemies. The only spell of which she was aware that would conquer Inferi was a fire-summoning spell. Her problem was not that she was incapable of casting it, but rather that she was underwater. Minerva panicked and attempted to swim away. Putting her trained Quidditch muscles to good use, she fought to reach the surface. It had been there, only moments ago. Casting a bubblehead charm to ensure she could still breathe, she swam upwards as much as she could, dodging the Inferi's grasps as they pursued her.

Finally, Minerva crashed into some sort of ceiling. The initial dismay of still being caught underwater was replaced by a surging rush of hope: dimly lit, the roof presented her with a path to a door. All that remained was sparring the Inferi and escaping through the door. She looked at her lone remaining obstacle and shuddered. The Inferi were either multiplying or gaining more intelligence, Minerva couldn't be sure which, but they were more effectively blocking her path than they had been previously.

Worn out after the physical stress of the dementors' attack and swimming to escape animated corpses, not to mention her short duel with Albus, Minerva wasn't sure she had enough magic left in her to finish the task. A thought came into her mind, and deducing that it was likely her only option, she acted upon it. Breathing in as deeply the bubblehead charm would allow, she pointed her wand away from her and began the arduous process of Vanishing the water.

Once Minerva had cleared a broad enough path, she shot fire into the now empty space, expertly hitting the Inferi blocking her way. They fell like dominoes, scratching at themselves in fruitless attempts to extinguish the fires wreaking havoc on their antiquated bones. She knew that her window to escape was small; it would close the second the Inferi fell into the remaining water and could pursue her once more. The moment the last one succumbed to the flames, Minerva braced herself for impact and cast a locomotor charm on herself.

She flew through the peculiar blend of ocean and its humid vestiges, hurtling until she hit the door. Minerva cancelled the bubblehead charm and gasped, enjoying the sensation of her lungs filling with real air. She looked up from her spot on the ground and saw a pouch perched on the edge of the doorknob. To her chagrin, standing was more difficult than she had hoped; her magical core was far more depleted than she had realized. Stumbling as she stood, she expended what little energy she had left and focused on the item hanging off the doorknob. Minerva grasped the package and pushed open the door. Her senses were assaulted by sudden light and loud cheers before something smashed into the side of her head, plunging her world into darkness.