The students had been sent to their dormitories and the petrified victims taken to the hospital wing. Only Minerva, Dippet, Dumbledore and Caset were left standing in the corridor beside those words.
"You found them, Miss McGonagall?" asked Dippet gently.
Minerva nodded.
"Alone?" demanded Caset.
Minerva nodded again.
"Despite, Professor Dippet's instructions? Did you have some particular reason to think yourself safe, Miss McGonagall?"
"No, Sir," Minerva's voice was barely audible.
"And you also found Mary North, didn't you, Miss McGonagall? Again alone?"
"Yes, Sir."
"One has to ask –"
"Enough." Dumbledore said suddenly, "Armando."
Dippet nodded, "Professor Caset, I don't think this is appropriate right now. Miss McGonagall, is there anything you remember, anything you saw or heard that you think we should know?"
Minerva shook her head, "No, sir. I'm sorry."
"Very well, Miss McGonagall, you may go."
She nodded and hurried away. Behind her the three Professors began arguing.
"You can't just accuse her with no proof, Robert," said Dippet.
"You know there's something strange about the girl," the Hufflepuff replied. "And my prophecy, Albus, you need to be careful."
"Your prophecy didn't say she was going to run round the castle petrifying people!" exclaimed Albus.
"No, but I think it made it pretty clear that she is a dark witch."
"You can't say that."
"That's typical – everyone always doubts the value of divination. But it is a powerful subject and that was a genuine prophecy–"
"Related, as Albus has said, to a different situation," Dippet said calmly. "I'm not saying she is innocent, Robert – nor am I saying she is guilty, Albus," Dippet added, seeing the other Professor bristling, "What I am saying is that at the moment we have little information, and proximity to the scene is not enough reason to accuse her. We must be on our guard, we must watch her, and others, and we must ask appropriate questions, but poorly founded accusations are not helpful."
The following morning they were back in the Great Hall. Dippet stood at the front, looking even more concerned than before. He cleared his throat.
"In light of recent events," he began. "It has become necessary for security to be increased at Hogwarts. Hogsmeade trips are cancelled until further notice. There will be checks at all entrances to the castle. There will be a checks for prohibited pets across the whole castle.
The Ministry of Magic will also be supporting our efforts to bring the – um – culprit – to justice. As a result, a small group of dementors will be present on the grounds of Hogwarts. Please do not be alarmed by these creatures. They can be frightening, but they are here for your security and to ensure that any – um – threat – can be suitably contained. However, they cannot easily distinguish between those who have committed a – um – crime and, well, what one might call – mischief – so please do be cautious in their presence."
The Hall was filled with whispering, but Minerva McGonagall was silent. She continued to stare at Dippet long after he finished speaking and Dumbledore watched her with concern. Her face seemed to have paled and her expression was filled with horror.
Finally, as the students filled out of the Hall, he caught up with her and fell into step beside her.
"Are you okay, Minerva?" he asked gently.
"Fine, Sir," she said briskly, falsely.
He nodded. "I can understand that this might be difficult for you, dementors at Hogwarts…"
She turned to face him.
"I am fine, Sir." She said firmly, "But I have studying to do, so if you'll excuse me." She turned away.
"Minerva," he called after her.
She turned back, face stern eyebrows raised questioningly, with just a hint of the adult she would become.
"It's been a long time since we had a game of chess," Dumbledore said gently, "Perhaps we could play this evening, over some chocolate?"
"Thank you for the invitation, Sir," said Minvera crisply, "But I have a lot of studying to do for my NEWTS."
And this time as she turned on her heel and walked away, he let her go.
Minerva reached the end of the corridor, turned left and found herself facing a dementor. It seemed to fix on her and drift ever closer, she grasped her wand and held it in front of her exclaiming desperately, "Expecto! – Expecto…"
Suddenly her mind was racing, her worst memories flashing up seemingly all at once. Her father holding her against the wall; Professor Caset's prophecy; pain; Grindelwald; her father's wand pointed at her, rage in his eyes; a searing pain; Boggart Dumbledore dying before her eyes; her body suddenly ripped from the home of her friend and into her father's presence, his crazed expression as he screamed at her about the 'path she had chosen', the dementors circling and drawing closer, closer, closer…
"STOP!" screamed Professor McGonagall.
Dumbledore's hand grasped the misty vapour of the memory and they were all pulled out, startled and shaken.
"They don't need to see that," McGonagall's voice shook as she spoke. "Nobody should ever have to see that."
Dumbledore nodded and reached for her hand. "I'm sorry, my love," he murmured softly. "I thought I had trimmed the memory better than that."
She shook her head, gently dismissing his concern. "Those memories are hard to trim," she said in an overly matter-of-fact tone, whilst her hands continued shaking, "Once the dementor seizes on you, all the worst memories just come in to your mind at once."
Hermione spoke up, her eyes on Harry. "Is that what it's like?" she asked, concern in her voice, "With the dementors?"
Harry, Sirius and McGonagall all nodded. Nobody spoke for what seemed like ages. The Dumbledore said gently, "Shall we skip a bit."
McGonagall nodded and cleared her throat. When she spoke again her voice was calmer and more detached, more like the teacher that most in the room recognised.
"The dementors remained in the castle for only a few weeks, but it felt like forever to me. I remember feeling as though I could hardly breathe. There were only four dementors in the school and yet, everywhere I turned, there they were. I felt like they were pursuing me around every corner. In truth… I wasn't coping very well."
"But there was one thing that kept you strong for a time." Dumbledore reminded her gently.
"Yes," she agreed, her eyes on the pensieve.
"I'm sorry," he told her.
"Me too." She answered, turning to smile at him. "But I think if we start apologising to each other for every mistake we make in this story we will never finish telling it."
He returned her smile sadly, "I think I have more to apologise for," he said honestly.
"Perhaps that's why we work," she told him in a voice barely audible to the others. "Because I'm sure that's me."
He shook his head.
"I taught him," she said. "And I can never take that back."
Dumbledore shook his head, grasping her hand in both of his, "I… hurt you…" he murmured desperately.
"And I, you." She answered, lifting his hands and gently brushing them with her lips. "But the past is the past," she said more firmly, "And we have a story to finish."
He nodded. "You are right, my dear. You are always right."
He turned to their astonished audience and used his wand to leap through a few memories. "As we were saying," he told them, "Minerva did have one comfort for a time. Kept hidden in her dormitory by this point."