Note: Part two of today's update. And remember I said that I was extremely proud of my Sorting Hat song? Well, here it is again...

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Be At Heart United

Staring up at the great portraits of the founders and at the various members of staff arguing with them, Minerva was suddenly reminded of the Sorting Hat's song, its cryptic end verses finally falling into place.

But though these houses stand alone
They must be at heart united.
For no good can ever come
When the founders are divided.

Here they were, at the heart of the school, and here were the founders, once more united.

"Feet, Minerva."

The headmistress was brought back to the present by a voice in the vicinity of her ankles and she looked down to see Bathsheba on the floor, working her way around the wool that ran round the room like a multicoloured serpent and that Minerva was standing on without realising. She stepped obediently into the ring of yarn and let Bathsheba continue her appraisal. Minerva looked at the rest of her colleagues, most of whom were still looking around the chamber in awe with mutterings along the lines of 'how could we have missed this all these years?' One of her fellows, however, was engaged in a debate that was becoming increasingly heated and threatening to ruin the tense and eerie quiet in the cavernous room. Charity Burbage was standing in front of Slytherin's portrait with her hands on her hips and an expression of defiance on her young face. Never usually one of much gumption, Charity could pick her moments when she wanted to, and Minerva thought that it would be best to try and act as peacekeeper; her own opinions of the founder aside, it would not do to open rifts when they most needed allies. She crossed the room towards her colleague.

"And another thing…" Charity was saying as Minerva approached.

"Charity," the headmistress began.

"… I still don't see how, oh, hello Minerva. I was just asking the former Professor Slytherin how on earth this is going to work considering… Well, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

Charity drew herself up to her full, if diminutive, height with the ruffled air of an indignant peacock.

"You know, I was wondering the same thing myself," said Filius, coming up on Minerva's other side. "How can Slytherin put in place a protection against a regime that ultimately, he began in the Chamber of Secrets a thousand years ago?" The charms teacher looked up at the portrait sceptically. The founder's glance to the left and right for assistance from his contemporaries did not go unnoticed by Minerva, but the other pictures were too busy in discussion with their own alumni to pay him any heed.

"The Chamber of Secrets was after my time," he said eventually.

"You built it!" Charity exploded, any semblance of deference that she had previously held towards one of the ultimate parents of her beloved institution seeming to vanish with that single accusatory sentence.

"Yes, but only after the portrait was painted."

Slytherin's ally came in the form of Septima, his own house member.

"All of these pictures are young, painted at the birth of the school. The protection was likewise set in place at this time. That is why it will work."

"Contrary to how popular history has construed the relationship between the founders, we were not enemies from the outset," said Slytherin. "We were four friends and colleagues who came together in a time of crisis to build a safe haven, a safe haven that we determined to protect even after our demise. It was only after a significant amount of time had passed that our views became… polarised."

It made sense, thought Minerva, and she could tell that however grudgingly, Filius and Charity had accepted that it made sense as well. Portraits were likenesses of their subjects at the time of painting, not only in body but also in mind. Whilst any portrait only became fully cognate after the death of the sitter, the personality retained was one to match the appearance. As Septima had said, this portrait was young and so was its mind. What he had done and what atrocities Voldemort had committed in the name of his ideals aside, this Slytherin still belonged, mentally, to a time before, a time when the school and its charges had to be protected at all costs against all comers. A later portrait would have no doubt held a wholly different view of the current situation. Slytherin knew this too, and there was therefore little wonder at the confusion apparent in the chamber.

Red and green and blue and yellow
Come together all once more
To find the greatest secret
Hidden in these hallowed halls.

The founders were to reunite and work together for the first time since Slytherin had left the school. Minerva looked down at the line of wool at her feet, where, intertwined with the ever-present thread of gold, there wove the jewel-like yarns that represented the founders themselves. The four colours had come together once more and Hogwarts' best kept secret had been revealed: the protection built into its very core.

"We're short."

Bathsheba's voice, clipped and nervous, cut through the room. She was staring down at the two loose threads crossed over the palm of her hand.

We're missing people, members of the school," she continued.

Minerva performed a quick headcount and with a churning stomach, she realised who was missing. She had passed Severus on her way to the meeting but she had not seen him since. His words of the early hours of the morning echoed through her mind.

"If I am called then I will answer, Minerva, it is as simple as that."

"Severus isn't here," she said quietly.

Bathsheba raised an eyebrow and her glance flickered over Minerva's shoulder to Aurora. The younger witch had been listening to the exchange and was now standing with her arms folded and her mouth set in a thin line, angry.

"Well, this has all been a waste of time then," she snapped. "Trying to unite the whole school when there's a traitor in the midst was never going to work, was it? We might as well throw the gates open and invite the Death Eaters in. Coming to think of it, I'm amazed we haven't done that already."

"Aurora!" said Bathsheba sternly, interrupting the stargazer's tirade. "Remember what we said back in November."

Aurora sighed and looked around the room in exasperation, floundering for an argument.

"No," she said eventually.

"That there's more to that man than meets the eye." Bathsheba glanced at Minerva and furrowed her brow. "You look as if you've seen a ghost, my dear."

Minerva had not been paying much attention to the brief exchange between Bathsheba and Aurora; her mind desperately trying to think of a solution. Severus had known this meeting was taking place, he knew it was urgent, and he was not here. That could only mean one thing.

"He's doomed," she said eventually. "He's gone to Voldemort and he won't be coming back."

"Can I say 'I told you so' now?" asked Aurora plainly.

"No," said Minerva. "He's as good as dead as soon as he gets there."

There was only one answer as far as Minerva was concerned, and that was to go after him and catch him if she could. If he had been called then he still had to get out of the castle, and that was going to be easier said than done now that it was in a state of lockdown. The only feasible option for him would be…

The head's office fireplace. Minerva opened the door and hared out of the room.

"Headmistress, I don't understand, what in Merlin's name do you mean that You-Know-Who's going to kill Severus?" Aurora's voice echoed along behind her as she transformed to take advantage of the tabby's greater speed, bounding along the corridors and up staircases, returning to human form to give the password and gain admittance to her domain. As she had suspected, Severus was at the fireplace.

"Wait, Severus, there…"

She was too late. He had disappeared into the emerald light of the grate.

"…is another way."

Minerva stared into the fireplace. Their final defence had literally gone up in flames. Now she had to tell the rest of the staff this, and in doing so, reveal the deception that she and Severus had played out under their noses since Albus's death. It would have had to come out at this juncture anyway; Aurora's reaction and Charity's misgivings were proof enough of the unease within the school, but now the silence that had the head and deputy had kept was all the more fatal.

"Minerva!"

Bathsheba's voice was sharp and demanded attention, and Minerva turned to see the ancient runes professor entering the room, panting slightly.

"Minerva," the older witch repeated as she caught up to the headmistress. "Even if, by some miracle, you find Severus survives this ordeal and returns to us on whichever side he is currently playing, it's still not enough. There's still someone else missing."

Minerva faltered.

"Who? Everyone was present…"

Bathsheba shook her head, cutting off Minerva mid-sentence.

"Not everyone. Not all the staff. There is still one missing." She held up a small piece of rough, pale grey yarn, left over from the main pattern. "It's Argus, Minerva. Magic or not, he is still an integral part of the school and is represented and required as such."

Minerva felt the sudden urge to sit down in the middle of the office floor out of sheer confusion and helplessness. They had been so close and now everything seemed to be slipping through her fingers. Her emotions must have been apparent as Bathsheba took a step towards her.

"Minerva, there is always hope. You've managed to pull us through this past year, through all the trials and tribulations that have gone with it, and you have never once given up hope even in the bleakest of times. Now is not the time to break that track record. Yes, everything seems lost, but where there's a will there's a way, or some other such inspirational nonsense. Now, I don't claim to know what on earth our absent defence professor has been doing all year, nor why he has an effective death sentence from the master that the majority of the castle believes him to serve whole-heartedly, but I do know that Severus is extremely clever and that if anyone can get out of whatever it is that's waiting on the other side of that fireplace, then it's him. You know that too. So I say we leave Severus to take care of himself and focus on a more immediate problem at hand, namely that of Mr Filch. Where do we find him and how do we persuade him that we have not gone mad?"

Minerva took a deep breath and strengthened her resolve. Whilst she could not share Bathsheba's optimism concerning Severus's ultimate fate, there was nothing more that she could do for him and waiting was her only feasible option. And if, of course, the miracle that Bathsheba foresaw did come true, then it made no sense whatsoever for them to be unprepared when time was of the essence.

"Let's find Argus," she said. Bathsheba nodded her approval and the two witches left the office and headed in the direction of the caretaker's office. It was situated fairly centrally within the school for ease of access, but there was no guarantee that the man would be in there when there always seemed to be something demanding his attention at all hours of the day and indeed night. It was early evening, hopefully he would neither be running around after the students as they went about their daily affairs nor patrolling the corridors for those breaking curfew. Minerva knocked on the door but there was no reply, and there was no way of guessing where he might be. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her, and she retransformed, pattering along the corridor on feline paws, Bathsheba hurrying along behind. When she was in her animagus form, Minerva's senses were altered accordingly, increasing her sensitivity to the smell of, amongst other things, other cats. Trying to track Mrs Norris to find her owner was a shot in the dark but it was a better option than combing the school randomly. She knew that Filch had several store cupboards dotted around the school that he used as alternative offices when Peeves had decided to take apart his official residence, but she didn't know exactly where she might find them. She pattered through the corridors, following her senses and instinct with Bathsheba hurrying along behind, dreading to think how much time was slipping away from them in this search. Finally she found an ajar door that seemed to be promising. She transformed once more and the ancient runes teacher raised an eyebrow.

The headmistress knocked and there came a hasty shuffling of papers. Through the crack between the door and the frame, Minerva saw Filch hastily hide his latest Kwikspell pamphlet under Mrs Norris' basket, earning a disgruntled yowl from the unseated cat.

"Come in!" he called gruffly. "Headmistress," he added with a degree of deference on seeing his visitor. "Professor Babbling."

"Argus, we need your help," said Minerva, thinking it best to get straight to the point. "The entire school needs your help."

Filch's eyebrows shot to his hairline and disappeared there.

"My help?"

"Yes." Minerva wondered how to explain. "If the entire school joins together then we can protect the castle against Voldemort. But we can't do it without you. You are a part of the school as much as any of the rest of the staff."

"You've been here longer than some of them," pointed out Bathsheba.

There was a long pause whilst Argus mulled over the information that he had just been given, and Minerva was daring to hope that perhaps their hasty flattery had done the trick. His eyes lingered longingly on the manacles that had been outlawed so long ago but that he still kept on him 'just in case'. Bathsheba took a step forward and lbent down so that her eyes were level with the caretaker's. He didn't seem all too sure.

"Argus, I didn't want to have to resort to this, hoping that you would help us out of the goodness of your heart and your loyalty to the school, because everything aside, your loyalty is to the school rather than to any of us. But we are fast running out of time and I feel that cutting to the chase is the best choice here. I know, Argus, that you are pondering the possibility of a better school under a new regime. We all know how much you miss Delores Umbridge."

"Best thing that happened to the school in years," said Filch wistfully.

"But to be brutally honest, Argus, life under You-Know-Who will be massively different. Because once the systematic expulsion, slaughter, or otherwise of all the students of so-called tainted blood has taken place, what will happen next? Who will be the next to go? I can assure you, Argus, that there will be no place for squibs in You-Know-Who's new world order. I think you know that too. However many miscreants he may have allowed you to hang from their big toes in the dungeons, your tenure would always have been limited."

Silence reigned supreme. Bathsheba's words, however hard, were in hindsight true.

Eventually Filch nodded, however grudgingly.

"What do I have to do?" he grunted as he eased into a standing position and followed the two witches out of the appropriated cupboard. Minerva grimaced; she didn't know herself.

"We'll find out when we get there," she answered honestly, "but the sooner the better." She hoped that this lack of foreknowledge would not put Argus off now that they had secured his co-operation, and nothing more was said as they returned swiftly to the Room of Requirement. Poppy greeted them as they entered.

"I've had to explain," she said. "Everything that's been going on this past year. Next time warn me before leaving me in the lurch. After you left it turned into… well, I'm not quite sure what it turned into."

"Controlled mayhem," said Filius. "As incredulous and wary as I am that you have managed to keep us all in the dark for so long, Minerva, it was an incredible achievement to do so. Poppy's explanation proved remarkably timely, in fact…"

"And now we are complete," said Gryffindor from his position on the wall, watching Filch skulk into the chamber. "The school united."

"But Severus…"

Minerva trailed off as the staff began to move to the outside edges of the room and a familiar figure became apparent in the centre.

"…because Severus arrived just as she was finishing the tale." Filius finally finished his sentence and moved away to allow Severus to come over and take his place at Minerva's side, deputy head.

"You're alive." The two words were hopelessly clichéd in the circumstances but they were all Minerva could think of to say.

Severus nodded.

"At great cost to another." There was a note of finality in his voice and Minerva knew not to push the subject further but simply be grateful that events had come to pass in this way. She looked around the room, at the school gathered there, united against a common foe. She had no idea what to expect; was there some kind of enchantment to be read, a spell to be performed that would bind them all together and render the castle impenetrable?

A faint glow ran around the train of wool, seeming to answer her question, and Minerva felt a heavy wave of magic descend upon them, almost palpable in its potency.

"It is done," said Hufflepuff, "and not a moment too soon, I believe."

There were no windows in the chamber but Minerva had a terrible idea of what the founder was referring to. She made her excuses and left the room, the other staff following her as she flew along the corridors to the nearest window facing onto the gates.

Voldemort was there with his Death Eaters, deep in conversation with Bellatrix Lestrange. As Minerva looked on, he seemed to recognise the presence of spectators and stared up at the castle.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," he said calmly, his voice amplified to reach them from the perimeter. "My reason for arriving at such short notice is simple. I want Potter. You will either give him to me, or I shall come in and find him myself. The choice is yours."

Minerva did not reply, what could she say? This was the moment of truth. Would the old magic be enough to save them now? All they could do was wait, and hope…

Note2: Snape is alive! The castle is wrapped in a lovely knitted blanket! But I spy trouble on the horizon... Well, when isn't there trouble when Madame Lestrange is in the vicinity and when Harry has been having madcap ideas concerning the destruction of horcruxes? But first things first, I think we ought to see how the Daring Ministry Raid is going, don't you?

Note3: There's so little around on the founders and their connections to each other before Slytherin broke away that I felt justified in using my own licence to fill in the gaps. It's just one of those things I wonder about in idle moments. Yep, I am that weird.