Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

Hello everyone. First of all, I wanted to thank everyone who stuck with me after the last chapter, and welcome all of those new folks who are willing to take this journey with me. I know the last chapter was very ugly, and I had a few readers who left. If you ever read this author's note, I'm sorry the story got too much for you. I know it seems pretty ugly right now, and believe me, it is. I realized when I wrote it that some people might not like it, but I feel that this story was just begging to be told.

One of my readers said they don't believe anyone can be this dumb, and although I'd love to say I agree, I don't. I think that there are many things that have happened throughout human history, and even today, because people have made decisions out of both stupidity and fear. This is just a fictional example that I am writing about. But I would like to stress that no, I do not agree with it, not even 1%. And there will definitely be justice at the end of it all, but it will be a long way until we get there.

But I hope that you stick with me on this journey, I am very happy to have you on board with me. But for those of you who don't, I definitely understand as well.

Okay, onward.

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Minerva McGonagall sat in the staff room, surrounded by all the other teachers. Albus had called them in for this meeting to discuss everything that was going on. There was a current of restlessness around the room, especially coming from the Heads of Houses. Although they knew that this staff meeting ranked high in importance, they were desperate to get back to their students; many were stricken and traumatized from the night before, even those who had not known Cedric Diggory well. After all, every single person attending Hogwarts had seen the boy's lifeless body.

Well, Minerva amended to herself, three of the Heads of Houses were there. Severus Snape was not, and she felt her stomach sink as the implications of that ran through her mind. Being a member of the Order, she knew well exactly where the man had been since late last night, and it terrified her. The fact that he had still not returned weighed heavily on her heart. He might be a dour, bitter, cynical, unpleasant man, but he was her colleague and someone she cared deeply about. And even if she didn't, even if she despised him, she would never, ever want him in the position he was now. Looking at Albus, she could see the strain and worry in those blue eyes of his; for once, they were not twinkling. Knowing Albus for as long as she had, she knew it was weighing on him too, although he would never show it.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Dumbledore said, looking somber as he took in all of his staff members. "I am sorry I have had to call this meeting, for I know several of you are anxious to return to your students. But we do have some urgent matters of concern to discuss." He sighed, looking all of his many years as his gaze continued to wander around the room.

"First," he continued, "I should inform you that Alastor Moody will make a full recovery."

Minerva sighed in relief at this statement, and all of her colleagues did the same. Anger flared in her gut when she imagined all that he had been through. What that despicable monster Crouch had done to him ... her fury was beyond description. He'd kept Moody hostage, starving and dehydrated in his own trunk for nine months. There had been several hours when it looked like the man was too weak to survive, but it seemed as though Madam Pomfrey had worked another miracle.

"Thank Merlin," Filius Flitwick breathed. "Has he awoken yet?"

"No," Dumbledore said, "but Poppy is positive that he will in a day or so. He is weak, but he will recover."

"Where is Crouch?" Pomona Sprout asked, her face full of heartache from all that had happened.

"The Ministry are holding him," said Albus, and Minerva could sense the anger he felt just below the surface. She felt it too, but knew she was not nearly as proficient at hiding it as Albus was; it was broadcast plainly on her face.

"That complete idiot we have as a Minister kept him from giving testimony to the rest of the world, and he did it on purpose," Minerva fumed. "I'm sorry, Albus. I tried my best to make Fudge see reason, but ..."

"You don't owe me an apology, Minerva," Albus said sincerely. "You tried your best, and I couldn't ask any more of you than that."

"Yeah," growled Hagrid, his face contorted in a fierce scowl. "Blibberin' fool. Crouch was a disgustin' human bein', but now that he can' tell the world anythin', we've got a problem."

"Yes, we do," said Flitwick, and his eyes fixed on Dumbledore as he went on. "Albus, we need to tell the students that Mad-Eye Moody was not their professor this year. You wouldn't believe the nasty things I've been hearing all day. There are students who are drawing their own conclusions. They think Harry Potter murdered Cedric Diggory, and they won't hear otherwise."

"Filius is right," said Minerva, her gaze penetrating as she looked at Albus. "This secrecy needs to end now. We allowed you not to disclose the fact that Quirrell was compromised in the worst possible way three years ago. We, against our better judgment, kept several of the details of the Chamber of Secrets quiet two years ago. But we can't let it stand this year. A boy is dead because none of us realized the truth, and because we did not prevent these horrific occurrences, You-Know-Who has returned."

At this statement, it was as though a Dementor occupied the room with them. The gravity of this pronouncement bludgeoned everyone with its intensity. Minerva knew from the looks on many faces that the majority of her colleagues believed this to be true. Only Vector and Sinistra looked dubious, but they did not say anything to contradict her. What do they think's going on, then? Minerva thought, feeling a stab of anger. They don't believe Harry murdered Cedric as well, do they?

Albus looked seriously at all his staff, his face creasing into a frown. "I think telling the students that their teacher was a vicious Death Eater will only traumatize them further," he stated, his voice sad but chiding at the same time. Hagrid nodded in agreement, and this infuriated Minerva. Everyone in the room knew how loyal Hagrid was to Dumbledore, and Minerva knew his heart was always in the right place. But she also knew he often agreed with Albus without thinking, and as she thought back over her own time working under him, she was disheartened to discover she had done the same thing. She still cared for Albus deeply, and would do most of what he asked of her. But after her epiphany and self-reflection, there were things she could no longer condone, and it couldn't be clearer that many of the staff felt the same.

"Maybe, in the short-term, you're right. I have no doubt it will frighten them," said Flitwick. "But if you hide it from them, it will be much worse when they find out. Because believe me, Albus, they will find out, just like they will eventually discover the events of the Sorcerer's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets. Things of that magnitude don't stay hidden forever."

As Minerva stared at Albus's expression, she suddenly felt a wave of recklessness seize her. She knew that Albus was going to make one of his important speeches about why all of this should be kept quiet, and she realized she couldn't take it anymore. For decades she had not stood up to this man when deep down she'd known that many of his decisions were questionable, some flat-out morally wrong, and she had stood back and gone along with him. Well, no longer. If she was going to redeem herself, it would start now, in this very room.

"At this school, Albus, you are a Headmaster, not a war leader," McGonagall said fiercely. "Every decision you make here affects the lives of every staff member and student. I will no longer sit here and allow you to keep certain events from the students just because you feel your position is too important to lose. The students deserve nothing less than to be informed of the events that have occurred, as do their parents. And you need to deal with whatever the consequences are," she went on, pointing an accusing finger at the one person in her life she had once vowed never to cross. "I also wish to inform you that your plan has already backfired. Because the students do not know everything that has happened these past few years, they are coming up with their own conspiracy theories. Filius has already discussed this, but I shall enlighten you further. They are under the impression that Harry Potter whisked Cedric Diggory away from Hogwarts, murdered him, and brought his body back, subsequently blaming You-Know-Who. If you don't tell the students that Barty Crouch, Jr. was behind Harry and Cedric's disappearance, and that he was the one to put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire, it will only make matters worse. And I promise you, if you don't reveal this information, I will do it myself."

And with that, she got out of her chair, pushed it in, and marched out of the staff room. As she left, no one said a word, but she could feel the shocked stares of her fellow teachers on her back.

For the first time in years, Minerva McGonagall felt brave and purposeful, but she also felt shocked at her own brazenness. She had just given her superior, Albus Dumbledore, a severe tongue-lashing, and the most surprising thing of all was, she did not regret a word that had escaped past her lips, not a single one. She also knew it had not been a very dignified exit she had made either; after all, a woman as refined as Minerva McGonagall simply did not storm out of rooms. But she had indeed done so, and had no regrets about this either.

She was about to head back to Gryffindor Tower when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Whirling around, she looked into the kind, understanding eyes of her colleague and good friend, Filius Flitwick. He smiled softly at her, and she gazed back, touched that he had come after her.

"Well done, my friend," he said, his voice full of admiration. "You possess more bravery than I have. You said exactly what I was thinking, but didn't have the courage to say outright. You're not the only one who thinks there's something extremely wrong with this whole picture."

"Yes, well ..." Minerva shrugged, embarrassed at such high praise; she felt as though she did not deserve the accolades.

Flitwick patted her on the back, sensing her roiling emotions. After a moment of silence, he said, "I'll join you. If Albus doesn't inform the students by tomorrow morning, we'll do it together. We both know what this might cost us in his eyes, but frankly, this needs to be done."

"Thank you, Filius," said Minerva, her heart swelling with gratitude. "You don't know how much I appreciate that. I should have stood up to him much sooner."

"That makes two of us," said Flitwick, and Minerva could see the guilt on his face, the same guilt she herself had been wrestling with. The two gazed into each other's eyes, and their gazes sealed the pact between them.

"I'm sorry to cut it short, but I need to get back to my students," Flitwick said then, an apologetic tone to his voice.

"It's all right, Filius. I should be doing the same," said Minerva softly. "How ... how are they coping?"

"Not well," said Flitwick, looking grief-stricken. "Miss Chang ... that poor girl needs a lot of looking after. She went to the hospital wing last night to say a final goodbye to Mr. Diggory, and Poppy told me to come and retrieve her. I know we're not supposed to be physically affectionate with the students, Minerva, but in her case I couldn't stop myself. I took the poor dear to my office and held her for a long time, she literally cried herself sick. She kept repeating "he's so cold," and "he's so scared," and "Why? Why? Why? Why?" I finally got her to Ravenclaw Tower and gave her a sleeping potion from Madam Pomfrey. Before it took effect she kept whispering, "I loved him so much." Merlin, how are we all supposed to cope with things like this?"

The sorrow in her friend's eyes almost broke Minerva all over again, and not knowing what else to do, she embraced him. "I don't know," she whispered, wondering the same thing herself. Cho Chang's repitition of "why? Why? Why?" struck her like a hammer. It was one simple word, but to her, it represented everything. Why indeed? Why did the world have to be such a cruel, awful place?

After a few more seconds, the two friends broke apart, knowing what they had to do. "Thank you again for coming after me," said Minerva, managing a shaky smile for him.

"Of course," said Flitwick, returning the gesture. "We will do the right thing for Hogwarts."

"We will," Minerva murmured, her resolve never wavering. "We will."