Shacklebolt was inspecting one of the many cabinets in Dumbledore's old office, apparently searching for something, eventually, his hunt turned up successful. A pair of goblets, and a bottle of wine were raised in triumph, and Minerva gave an amused glance to the delighted looking man. Dumbledore loosed a light chuckle, the oils of his portrait sparkling with mirth.
Minerva pulled her wand out, deftly flicking her wrist as several plush armchairs thudded to the ground in front of Albus's old desk. The old song of tinkering objects had gone, replaced by absolutely nothing. The shelves had been stripped bare of Dumbledore's belongings, and Snape had apparently thought not to replace anything while he had reigned. Instead, their words of the events of the night were going to be met by silence, no background noise to drown out the harsh realities of war. Minerva sunk into one of the pieces of furniture she'd summoned, seeming to become the fabric of the chair itself as her figure relaxed into the plush velvet armchair.
"We both need it Madam," Kingsley said, a cheeky note to his voice as he placed the goblets down on the headmasters desk, tapping his wand on the neck of the bottle to release a red liquid that had no promise of pain associated with it. He poured them a goblet each, and the sound of the red wine flowing was the only noise in the office for a brief moment. Passing a goblet to Minerva, he settled himself down into the chair she had summoned for him as Albus took note they had chosen to sit the same side of his old desk. The chair the head would sit in empty, he smiled wistfully to himself, noting the unsaid mark of respect they still showed him.
"Are we clear on events yet?" Albus asked the weary pair below him, his blue eyes sharp in his face.
"Not quite, there are still things that need to be explained, but I was lucky enough to catch Mr Potter as he was heading to bed, he's explained a couple of things." Shacklebolt said, as the door to the office opened again, and Flitwick slipped in, looking just as exhausted as both of them. Minerva flicked her wand once more, and a fresh goblet of wine poured itself, floating into Filius's hand as he too sunk into one of Minerva's armchairs.
"Such as?" Dumbledore prompted after Flitwick looked settled.
"Severus has passed, Voldemort murdered him, and I've had his body recovered." Shacklebolt told them all seriously, taking a deep mouthful of wine afterwards.
"A loss to knowledge." Dumbledore murmured, stroking his beard in a contemplative manner.
"Quite," Minerva agreed, taking a surprisingly large gulp of wine from her glass.
"He was a better man than we gave him credit for, even if he was a total bastard." Shacklebolt seemed to agree, nodding his head in sympathy as Flitwick spat out a mouthful of wine.
"So there is nothing that can be done to save Severus then?" Flitwick asked suddenly, swilling his wine about in his goblet as he watched it.
"I don't think so Filius, Mr Potter seemed certain of his passing," Shacklebolt answered quietly, far more respectfully than he had spoken of him moments before. Flitwick sighed heavily, as Minerva draped her head in her hands.
"I never imagined he would die in all of this," she sighed, seeming hopeless to the situation. It was a death that had shaken her solidly. Flitwick echoed her sigh, his entire tiny stature seeming to grow and shrink with the action.
"I suppose we ought to put his portrait up then?" Flitwick asked, looking to Minerva with an air of resignation.
"We can't," Minerva replied, surprised; "the only portraits that go on these walls are the Head's that were appointed by the governors, Snape wasn't voted in. I know the Death Eaters made him have a portrait made, but that was because they thought they would have permanent involvement in the school."
"Hang him in the potions classroom then," Flitwick said offhandedly, "It fits; one of the best potions masters the school has ever had where he belongs, and it always helps to have another set of eyes in a room that know what they're on about."
"I personally like the idea of hanging Severus up in the Potions classroom. A lovely touch, though, I'm sure he'd prefer it if it were in the Defence Against the Dark Arts room." Dumbledore added twirling his thumbs about one another as his blue eyes sparkled with mirth. Minerva rolled her eyes back so far in her head Shacklebolt thought she'd fainted for the briefest of instants.
"I don't think so." She replied as Filius gave a wry chuckle. Minerva took another sip of her wine, giving the gathered group a serious glance. "I suppose we must become realistic now. The school has taken damage-"
"As has the ministry," Shacklebolt input, earning himself a serious nod from Minerva.
"We must discuss the minutiae," she said, the mantle of responsibility had returned to her shoulders unnoticed by her, as Dumbledore stifled a concerned twist of his mouth.
"The minutiae that are not very minute," Kingsley chuckled wryly, taking another sip of his wine. "As temporary Minister for Magic, I will write to the Wizengamot and ask them for a fast decision on a permanent one, and as we were alerted to the passing of Severus by Mr Potter, we need a new Head of Hogwarts, so again, I shall urge the quick appointment of a new Head." Shacklebolt informed them, pulling out his wand and summoning parchment, ink and a rather majestic quill to him.
He set to writing immediately, as Filius and Minerva exchanged glances.
"The admissions book," They said in unison. Minerva nodded as Filius gulped down the rest of his wine.
"I'll do it, then I'll put Severus's portrait up. I'm then off to bed." He announced as Minerva looked at him seriously.
"You're then taking two weeks off for whatever you need to do. I'd suggest rest," Minerva smiled, as Filius placed his feet on the ground again, dusting himself off.
"I'll see you in two weeks then Minerva." He acknowledged, looking respectfully at her. They shared a smile, as Dumbledore cleared his throat pointedly.
"It's the first, if not the most important step in repairing the school Albus," Minerva started, "Earlier in the year Filius and I secretly placed a ward on the admissions book to the school. We wanted to stop any new students, muggle born or not from attending Hogwarts. We had planned to make sure the other schools were able to take them. The moment the war looked as if it would be lasting longer than a year we did it. The idea of a new wave of muggleborn children getting the impression they are unwanted in our world was…" she trailed off for a moment, clearing her throat as her eyes filled with tears, "It was hideous to the both of us. We have to do anything to protect the children and that was one of them."
"I never gave you enough credit," Albus muttered as Shacklebolt finished his letters. With a swirl of his wand they duplicated and vanished, no doubt starting to harass the recipients already. "You most definitely did the right thing." He assured her, his face strong and compassionate. "It does also bring up the subject of repairing the school; the world will need something normal to look forward to. What is more normal than school?" He asked, a spark of amusement glittering in the depths of his eyes.
"You are right, and Hogwarts will be repaired, but we just don't know how. Hogwarts isn't a normal school. The wards were centuries old. It isn't just a case of casting 'repairo', and being done with it."
"There is always a way Minerva," soothed Dumbledore.
"I'm sure the Ministry will have records on the wards of Hogwarts. Anything you need I will make sure you'll have." Kingsley said as he re-joined the conversation, the two important letters now dealt with.
"Thank you," Minerva smiled, flicking her wand. Her silver tabby cat burst from its tip, streaking out the room as if chasing something. "I've sent it to Pomona, Poppy and Aurora, they can make a list of all the things that are damaged, destroyed, in need of repair or restocking; and I told them about the mandatory two week holiday, longer if they need medical attention."
"Smart," Shacklebolt agreed. Minerva's wand burst to life once more as another tabby cat ran past them all.
"That's to Hagrid; he's to tell the house-elves to take a two week break to seek medical attention and rest before getting back to work to help clean this place. I doubt it will do any of them any good to clean up…"
"Corpses?" Shacklebolt offered, sensing where her thoughts were going. Minerva nodded, taking another sip of wine.
"I think Hagrid will likely take the two week break, I doubt he will be in a good state of mind after the night's happenings." Shacklebolt said seriously.
"I agree, seeing Mr Potter as a dead man and well… Hagrid has never been one to kill, but I most definitely saw him throw a grown man across the hall and hit the wall head first… I'm not entirely sure how he'll feel about that."
Albus, Minerva and Kingsley were quiet a moment, taking in the actions they'd seen carried out or simply heard about with a melancholy.
"A lot was asked of all of you, but you must remember you live to make the world better again," Albus encouraged them, sensing the pair below him sinking into a despair often difficult to claw a way back out of.
"Of course, of course," Minerva sighed, waving away his encouragement as if he were patronising.
"Reminds me, if I am made minister I must meet with the centaurs, goblins and house-elves, I believe it would be a good idea to at least take baby steps in the right direction. We oppress too much." Shacklebolt mused aloud as Dumbledore looked as if he could burst with pride.
Silence met his declaration, but no one opposed him either, instead, it seemed as if he had simply voiced what everyone was thinking. It was no time for the old behaviours. Too much had that cost.
"Have you told Mr Malfoy he is to remain here at Hogwarts for the summer?" Minerva asked, as she looked troubled at the idea.
"Yes, I did earlier; Miss Granger was with him much to my surprise." Kingsley said as an eyebrow rose beyond Minerva's hairline. "I must say, your idea to keep him here was an excellent one, I do appreciate the help you've given me." He finished, raising his half empty wine glass to her in a salute.
"At the time it seemed like it was a good plan," She sighed, waving away his toast with a lazy roll of her wrist.
"I believe it still is," Dumbledore interjected, watching the pair of them with sharp eyes, his fingers entwining about one another.
"Is it? Truly? Albus, you were the only one who saw any good in him." Minerva sighed, rubbing her temple with the hand that had waved praise away not moments ago.
"Of course, tell me Minerva, what better for a boy who has been indoctrinated in hate to see than the real damage of a war. He will be here to see all the casualties removed, he will be here to see you all meet with the Weasley family and others, and conduct meetings involving the set-up of a new wizarding world that; if he is smart and I think he is, he'll recognise he'll have no place in unless he changes his world view." Albus spoke gently as Minerva began to chug her wine as if the world were running out.
"I suppose I can set him to work," she debated.
"I'd recommend it actually; he's asked if it'll be possible for him to return to Hogwarts after he does his time in Azkaban, and setting him to work about the castle will be a good way of testing him." Kingsley said pointedly, refilling Minerva's wine glass as if he hadn't just watched her throw it down her throat.
"Has he now."
"You can't expect him to be the only one wanting to return to Hogwarts?" Kingsley asked her a little shocked, "after all, we've just had a war, and I think it would be natural for many students to wish to return to school, to something that is normal for them. After all, I said it before, what is more normal than school?"
"Kingsley," Minerva admonished, "Of course I expect there to be many wanting to come back to school. Mr Malfoy I will admit was a surprise, but then… he was intelligent academically at least. I imagine school could be very healing to those who want it. If I am made the head of Hogwarts I will make sure that the school is here for anyone who needs it. I'm also am making it optional to return for the N.E.W.T years, but fifth year and below must be repeated. What the children received last year was not an education." She said fiercely, and a smattering of applause and agreeing nods came from the portraits above.
"If you need any help from the ministry in creating the extra accommodation for eighth year students, do let me know, I'll do my best." Shacklebolt smiled warmly at her, as Minerva nodded smiled weakly in response.
"So much bloody work to do because one man…" She trailed off, shaking her head in dismay, as Kingsley chuckled darkly.
"At least people will actually work, wanting to get things back to normal, it's the press I'm worried about more than anything else." Kingsley admitted as Minerva looked mildly amused.
"The press?"
"Well, I can imagine they will be very interested in Harry, Ron and Hermione now, not to mention whomever they may become romantically interested in. Hogwarts is also the school that many of them earned their education at, and I've just locked up who could be considered the most eligible bad boy of the British wizarding world." Kingsley said drily as Minerva spluttered into her goblet.
"Oh Merlin," Minerva gasped, "we'll need to get the wards fixed as soon as possible," she withdrew her wand, as if she were going to preform intense magic with barely any sleep.
"But not right now," Albus said sensing the weariness of the pair of them below him. "Sort it out tomorrow when you speak with the Weasley family and Miss Granger, you both have plans to ask them to help you sort your worlds out, and I doubt they will say no. You have time enough ahead. Go, summon healers, go to sleep. Return here in the morning." He ordered them, inwardly amused at their stubborn dedication to put the world to rights immediately.
"I suppose you're right," Minerva agreed, catching sight of her bloodstained wrist. Kingsley just grunted, as a lynx burst from the tip of his wand.
"To the hospital wing for the pair of us, I've just sent for a healer or two, or whomever they can spare to see to the both of us." Kingsley offered his arm to her, a warm smile across his war torn features.
"Oh you're right, you're both right," Minerva sighed, "the world can wait just one more day."
