Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters and settings belong to me. They are all the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing around with them for the fun of it…no monetary gain is sought.
This story is dedicated to scatteredlogic for her cherished friendship and all her invaluable help. :
Chapter Thirty Two: A Visit with the PrisonerAndrew Pitt rose from his comfortable chair by the warm fire and approached the window reluctantly. Every time he was forced to open the damn thing to let another owl with a message in, the wind chilled the room thoroughly. Perhaps he should have them go and drop their messages down below in the main wardroom, but then, nothing would be private because none of the guards that worked here would hesitate for a moment to read anything that came in before it was delivered to him. Knowledge was power after all. Best to leave things as they are and practice up on warming spells instead.
As quickly as possible, he opened the small window and let the owl move swiftly into the room. The large bird, with its feathers fluffed up against the cold, crossed the room and settled easily onto the perch that awaited all messengers. Once there, it held out its leg, waiting patiently for Pitt to remove the roll of parchment that was tied securely with a stout thong.
Pitt removed the message and absently scooped a handful of feed for the bird into a shallow bowl, setting it down next to the occupied perch, he then moved back to his comfortable chair by the fire to read the missive. He hadn't been expecting anything in particular, and surprise notices were seldom good.
His frown deepened as he read the message from the Ministry. It certainly wasn't good news, though he shouldn't be all that surprised by it either. Dumbledore had been granted permission to come and speak to McGonagall. Apparently, her lover was under the delusion that he could free her from her imprisonment instead of being out looking around for a replacement bed warmer. Such foolhardy devotion.
Pitt chewed on a lip thoughtfully. All in all, she wasn't in the best of shape. The men had roughed her up pretty good getting her here, but all prisoners should expect to end up a bit bruised. At least nothing had been broken, and he'd managed to stop Quent before he could do any serious damage to her. Still, old Dumbledore wouldn't be too happy when he got a good look at his lady love. Oh, well, it was a bit too late to do anything about it now.
There wasn't anyone on this bloody rock with decent healing abilities, and the old coot would be here in a few hours. So the chips would just have to fall where they did. There were plenty of easy scapegoats lined up before it ever got all the way up to him anyway. He'd certainly treated McGonagall much better than the run of the mill murderer deserved.
His eyes drifted back to the letter, and he read on. When he got to the last paragraph, his eyebrows rose in surprise. Well, well. This was certainly unexpected. He found himself wondering if Dumbledore knew and thus would pass this tidbit on to the prisoner or if he'd have the honor of doing it himself. Quent wouldn't be pleased. On the other hand, he still might be able to get his fun in. Certain things could be finessed a bit, after all…who was going to care by then?
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The ferry cruised to a stop beside the worn pier deep within the large underground cavern, and as it was docked, Dumbledore peered out of the cabin to find one person waiting for him. The ride to the island had been a silent one. The two men on board the boat had greeted him respectfully and showed him to a seat in the rear of the cabin; then they'd devoted their attention to piloting the boat through the choppy waters, a less than pleasant task in the cold gloomy darkness of the North Sea.
It had taken much longer than Dumbledore had wanted to get permission to come and see Minerva. Usually, once someone has been chosen to defend a prisoner, access was granted immediately, but for some reason that wasn't adequately explained to him, permission for him to make a trip out here had taken all day. He'd even begun to think that they were going to put him off until the following day, but at the last minute, he received the okay to come, and he didn't want to take the chance that they'd change their minds. Minerva had been here for two days already; goodness knows what sort of shape she was already in. He needed to see her now.
He'd tried to get permission to bring along a second person, knowing that Severus would want to see her as well. However, the order that came down was very specific. He, and he alone, was to be allowed a visit, and the visit was not to be of long duration. He was allowed only one hour with her. Not a lot of time, but it would have to do.
Severus had been disappointed to be forced to stay behind, though he himself had proclaimed it the wiser course. Still, no matter what he said, the look of pain and worry on his face before he'd hidden it behind a casual façade of indifference had saddened Dumbledore greatly. The younger man might deny his feelings until time ceased its forward pace, but he wasn't fooling the Headmaster one bit. Having to wait to hear news of Minerva would be very, very difficult for the Potions master, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise.
Once Dumbledore stepped off the boat onto the wooden pier, the middle-aged man who awaited him stepped forward and greeted him with an amiable smile.
"Professor Dumbledore. It's good to see you again. Sorry it has to be under such trying circumstances."
Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sorry as well, Mr. Pitt. It has been a long time, hasn't it?"
Pitt nodded solemnly. "I knew you'd remember me. I imagine that you remember all of your former students, don't you?"
"I do remember most. Though there have been a great many by now."
"Yes, I'm sure that there have. Well, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to see Professor McGonagall. It was such a shock to see her here, I must say." He watched the tall wizard carefully as they set off up through the prison at a brisk pace.
"Yes, this has been a shock for all of us." Dumbledore agreed.
Pitt nodded once more. "I'm sure it has been."
Together, they climbed many stone steps and walked down long stretches of corridors in silence, neither having too much that they wished to share with the other. Once they finally approached Minerva's cell though, Pitt spoke up again.
"I'm sorry that I can only allow you to have an hour with her, Professor, but those are the orders I was given."
Dumbledore nodded. "I understand, Mr. Pitt. That's what I was told as well."
"I'm glad to hear that Professor. Please understand also that though she's received a few bumps and bruises in her time here, in general, she's been as well taken care of as I've been able to manage."
Dumbledore frowned at this somewhat alarming statement, but contented himself with another nod. He'd just need to judge for himself exactly what Pitt meant by "a few bumps and bruises". He hoped it wasn't as bad as he feared it might be if the man felt it necessary to warn him ahead of time.
They stopped before a cell and Pitt unlocked it with a large key. "I'll be back in an hour," he said as he swung the door wide and waited for Dumbledore to step inside before closing and locking it behind him.
Once he could hear Pitt's footsteps receding into the distance, the tall wizard turned and let his eyes rove around the small cell. The woman he sought lay on the small narrow cot beside the room's only window, wrapped up in a couple of thin blankets. She appeared to be asleep.
Dumbledore took a moment to really look at her, and what he saw saddened and angered him a great deal. Her face was slightly swollen and covered with bruises, her hair was matted and tangled, her glasses looked slightly bent and were pushed askew on her face as it lay against the ratty pillow. A bloody handkerchief lay on the stones beneath her cot, and smears of dried blood marred one cheek. He knelt down next to her sleeping figure and laid a gentle hand on her head, caressing her hair softly.
"Minerva?" he spoke her name quietly, hoping to awaken her easily.
Her eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, and she pulled sharply back from his touch as if she feared an assault. This reaction chilled his heart; obviously there was a good reason for it.
"No! Don't…" her voice pleaded hoarsely as she sat up and clutched the blankets tightly across her chest.
"Minerva, it's me. It's Albus." Dumbledore was alarmed at her violent reaction and also at the fact that she didn't even seem to recognize him. What unknown horrors had happened to his lovely and sensible friend in the short time of her imprisonment?
"Albus," she whispered. She shook her head in wonder. "What are you doing here?"
He smiled encouragingly at her. "I'm here to see you, Minerva. "I'm here to help you, if I can." Heaving himself up off his knees, he slid onto the bed beside her, opening his arms and inviting her into his embrace.
With a soft gasp, she threw herself into his comforting arms and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Albus. It's so good to see you!" Her voice was heavy with suppressed emotion.
He hugged her tightly as well and frowned worriedly over the top of her dark head. She felt far frailer in his arms than she ever had before. In only two days time, she'd fared more poorly than he could possibly have imagined that she would. With a sudden shock, he realized that if she was condemned to a life sentence, then it would most likely be of far too brief a duration. "It's good to see you, too," he murmured softly, trying not to let his alarm and growing anger show up in his voice.
They simply sat there for a moment holding on to each other, and then finally Minerva pulled back a little and lifted a sorrowful face to her friend. "I'm so sorry, Albus. Please, forgive me. I never wanted you to find out about all this the way that you did. And the school… It shouldn't have happened. I wanted to get away before they came, to keep you and the school out of it completely. I meant to leave sooner. I should've left. If only I hadn't…" Sudden unbidden images of Snape's face flitted through her mind; she could feel his fingers on her skin, his lips on hers… She bowed her head at her weakness and sniffled softly against Dumbledore's robes. "I'm sorry," she whispered helplessly.
Dumbledore hugged her more tightly and said in a comforting voice, "No, my dear. You don't need to apologize for any of that. I'm only concerned with you at the moment." Gently, he caressed her bruised cheek with his hand. "Have they been mistreating you here?" His anger at her appearance edged the question with steel, despite his vow not to reveal it to her.
Her hand flew to her cheek, and she pulled away from him, turning her face to the side and hunching her shoulders protectively. "No. Well, perhaps a little," she whispered softly. "Nothing out of the ordinary, though. They're used to dealing roughly with people here, that's all." She couldn't tell him the truth. This was most likely going to be where she'd be spending the rest of her life. If she angered Pitt and the rest of them, things would only get worse, hadn't they promised her that? If a miracle happened and she was released, then she could talk about it, but for now, it was better to say nothing.
Dumbledore frowned but decided not to push the point. Though he wanted to be sure that she wasn't being treated badly, he was also aware that their time together was limited at the moment and delving into this subject might not be the best thing to do right now, so he moved on to a different topic. Instead, he'd have a little word to the wise with Mr. Pitt when he left.
"Minerva, why didn't you come to me as soon as Ian made his threats against you? If you'd told me the truth immediately, there might have been something that I could have done to prevent all this from happening."
She shook her head and stood up, dropping the blankets on the bed and clasping her arms around herself protectively. Stiffly, she moved across the small cell to lean against the bars of the door, obviously favoring her left leg. "No, Albus. There wouldn't have been anything that you could've done. I wanted to keep you out of it completely. For your sake and the school's sake, I wanted you to be able to truthfully say that you knew nothing about the charges leveled against me. Hogwarts has been through so much these last few years. No one should have to go through any more upheaval because of me. In fact, you shouldn't even be here now. You need to disassociate yourself from me completely. It's the best thing for you and the school. Please. That's why I resigned in the first place."
"I'm here because I'm going to be defending you," Dumbledore stated simply.
Minerva swung around to face him with a horror struck expression on her face. "No! You can't! I gave up everything that mattered to me so that you and Hogwarts wouldn't be dragged through the mud of this scandal. I can't have you involving yourself now. I won't allow it. Besides you were just reinstated as Chief Warlock a few months ago, they won't let you act as my defense. It would be a conflict of interest, and it could jeopardize your reinstatement. "
"It won't jeopardize anything. I took a voluntary leave of absence to do this, Minerva. At any rate, I wouldn't be allowed to preside over your trial. That would have been an even larger conflict of interest given our long friendship, and I couldn't simply stand by and do nothing."
She shook her head sorrowfully. "Oh, Albus, I really wish you hadn't done this."
"My dear, you're not thinking clearly. If I don't defend you, who will?" the elder wizard asked sensibly.
That was something that she'd simply never thought about so she stood there and stared blankly at him for a moment before trying to come up with an answer. "I…I don't know. But it shouldn't be you, Albus. After all the trouble you had last year, everything you went through to regain control of the school, to rebuild your reputation. You don't need to be associated with a murderess now. It will just tear all that down again."
"You aren't a murderess. I refuse to believe that, Minerva, and it really doesn't matter that you'd resigned and intended to leave the school. You are just as entwined with Hogwarts as I am. You'll still be portrayed as its Deputy Headmistress during any trial because that will garner more publicity for the Ministry. My defending you isn't going to harm my reputation or the school's reputation any further, and it's the right thing to do. Anyway, it's already been decided, officially approved, and probably publicly reported as well, so I don't want to hear any more argument about it."
With a sinking feeling in her heart, she merely stood there and watched him uncertainly. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there wasn't any way she could completely divorce herself from Hogwarts after all these years of being so deeply ensconced there. No doubt she would have taught half of the population who would be hearing about this trial. Images of herself and Hogwarts would be one and the same for them. Maybe trying to run from that had been futile all along.
As he watched her come to the realization that he was probably right, Dumbledore patted the lumpy surface of the cot beside him and spoke to her once more in a gentle voice.
"Now, come and sit down beside me again. They haven't given me very much time with you, and I need to hear your side of the story while I can."
Slowly, she returned to the cot and lowered herself awkwardly to sit beside him once more. He couldn't help noting that she moved stiffly, as if she was in pain, though she didn't complain aloud. "Have you seen the memories in the pensieve copy from my room?" she asked in a low voice.
He shook his head. "No. Severus told me about them, but I wanted to see the real pensieve first."
Her head snapped up and her eyes gleamed questioningly. "And have you? What are they like? Oh, I wish I could see the actual pensieve. The copy left me with so many questions."
"I've been granted permission to go and see them tomorrow. I can ask when I'm there if you can see them as well. It seems only fair to me that you be allowed to view all the evidence against you."
"Yes, but somehow I'm not sure that fairness will be of paramount importance here." Her voice edged itself with bitterness. "Ian is very well respected by the members of the Wizengemot, and still viewed as one of them. Since he's the one who presented this evidence against me, no doubt they're predisposed to finding me guilty. I'd thought that people who were only accused of crimes were held at the Ministry before trial and treated as if they at least might be innocent, but what's happened to me so far has been very much the opposite. Mr. Pitt and his guards are certainly convinced that my conviction is a mere formality. That attitude must be coming from somewhere, I can only assume that it's the general feeling at the Ministry of Magic."
Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Yes, I'm afraid that acting Minister of Magic Gallagher has seized on this case as an opportunity to show how strong and decisive a Minister he can be. He's campaigning for his position to be made permanent, and he thinks that he can use your trial to help his cause. However, I've known the members of the Wizengemot for a very long time. I've been a member in good standing for many years myself. Most of them are very much strict adherents to the law. They might view Ian in a favorable light, but they won't allow either his testimony, or the wishes of this Minister, to overshadow their granting you a fair trial, Minerva. I'm certain of that."
Minerva nodded but held her tongue. She truly hoped that Albus was right, but her experience so far led her to believe otherwise. Then there was the fact that even if the trial was as fair as it could possibly be, she might still end up being convicted for the very simple reason that, as far as she could determine, she was guilty. There didn't seem to be any way around that extremely depressing fact.
"Now, before we run out of time together, will you please tell me your side of this story?"
"I don't know what I can tell you that you don't already know from the charges." Minerva shrugged doubtfully. "Ian came to me and showed me a copy of some memories held in a pensieve that he's had in his possession for years. He swore that he just discovered them, but I don't believe that for a moment. The memories appear to show me killing a man named Henry Grant. Grant worked on our estate in the early years of my marriage to Ian. I didn't know him well, nor would I have had any reason to kill him that I'm aware of, but then I don't remember the memories I saw in the pensieve copy either, and they did seem to be mine. Apparently, he also has my wand, the one I thought I'd lost years and years ago, and which shows Avad…the killing curse…to be one of its last spells cast."
"You have absolutely no recollection of this incident at all?"
"No, none. I remember Mr. Grant, though none of my memories of him are very strong. As I said, I hardly knew him. I do remember that he disappeared from the estate quite suddenly, and no one seemed to know where he'd gone, but at the time, everyone thought he'd just left voluntarily. He wasn't viewed as one of the more reliable employees we had." She paused and then added, "I remember looking for my wand for some time, and I remember reporting it as missing and going to get another one, but that's all I remember. I certainly never connected the disappearance of Henry Grant with my missing wand."
She turned and gave Dumbledore a serious look. "Severus looked into my mind before I left Hogwarts. He told me that I'd been obliviated sometime in the past. That the remaining scar is quite old. I have a feeling that that's when it happened, that someone obliviated all memory of this incident from my mind once I'd put my memories into the pensieve. Frankly, I think it was Ian. He'd have had the opportunity and the ability to do it, which says to me that he knows much more about this than he's telling. But it's all speculation. I can't prove anything, and it certainly appeared to be my hand holding the wand that killed that poor man…not Ian's."
With a sigh, she continued, "Ian told me that Grant had stolen money from us and that I was angry about that, but I certainly don't remember anything of the sort." Her voice hardened. "He also admitted to me that he helped me dispose of Grant's body, although I certainly could never prove that." She dropped her head into her hands and sighed hopelessly.
Dumbledore put a comforting arm around her once more. "There has to be more to this than meets the eye. I refuse to believe that you'd murder a man under any circumstances. The fact that someone tried to hide the incident so thoroughly from you is highly suspicious to me. You aren't guilty of this crime, Minerva, and we'll find some way to prove it, I promise."
Grateful for his support, she nodded automatically at his words, not really believing them, although she longed to desperately. Taking a deep breath, she tried to put on a brave face once more.
"How…how is everyone at the school? Did my being arrested like that cause any problems? Were you able to get Harry calmed down? He seemed so upset. That boy takes everything to heart, and lashes out without thinking sometimes; he's so much like his father, but he doesn't need anything else to be concerned about. Certainly not me."
Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. "The school was understandably upset about your being arrested, but I think I managed to calm them all down, including young Mr. Potter. None of them believe you guilty either, you know."
She smiled weakly. "How is Irma taking it? And ...everyone…" she finished lamely and fell silent, not quite able to bring herself to ask about Severus.
"Irma was very upset, as you might expect, but she supports you, too. Everyone on the faculty has spoken to me about this. None of them believe you guilty, Minerva. They all want to help, if possible. Poppy was particularly loud in her support. It seems that she was quite suspicious of Ian while he was at the school and wasn't at all surprised to learn that he'd submitted the evidence against you." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
Minerva smiled faintly. "Was she? Well, it's a comfort to know that if Sibyll ever gives up telling us the truth about people after the fact, that Poppy is waiting in the wings to take over."
They exchanged a brief smile and then, as Minerva nodded and looked down at her hands once more, Dumbledore added softly, "Severus wanted to come with me today, but the Ministry would only allow one of us to come. It wouldn't have looked right for him to have been the one who came. I'm sorry, because I know you'd have liked to have seen him."
Surprised at his comments, she raised her eyes to his once more and saw compassion and understanding in their depths. She shook her head firmly. "No. Severus can't be seen to be supporting me. It wouldn't look good. You shouldn't have even suggested bringing him."
"He's a member of my staff in good standing. I rely on his judgment. If I wanted him to accompany me to visit you, then he would have and none would think anything of it. But it wouldn't do for him to make the visit alone. You're both right about that."
Not wishing to delve into this topic any deeper, Minerva changed the subject. "Have they set a date for the trial yet?"
"Not yet, but, unfortunately, I don't think they'll waste too much time. Now that I've been approved to defend you, and once I've viewed the evidence against you, I imagine they'll set a date quite quickly. I just hope that they give us enough time to examine everything properly and figure out what really happened all those years ago."
Minerva shivered. "I hope so, too, but it may not matter. The past is often far too good at keeping its secrets."
Dumbledore looked down at the sad and battered face of his friend, and while he truly wanted to disagree, he found that he couldn't really argue with that statement at all.
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Next Chapter: Dumbledore makes a visit to Amelia Bones and gets a peek into Minerva's past.
