"Cornelius Fudge? The Minister of Magic?" Professor McGonagall's jaw snapped shut. "Your informant must be mistaken!"
"As I said," Snape said with a slight edge to his voice, "I don't understand it myself. But my informant is generally very reliable, and she assures me that seven of the wizards who led the mob to Azkaban were seen talking to Fudge in the Hog's Head late last night; and the attack happened only a few hours after. She isn't certain that there is a connection, but her investigations have turned up nothing else that could serve as a catalyst."
Dumbledore sighed softly. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus. Fudge may have made some bad decisions in the past, but I will not believe this of him without substantial proof. He is not an evil man."
Snape inclined his head. 'I have instructed my informant to continue her searches, Headmaster. It may have been, despite Professor McGonagall's assertion that this sort of thing doesn't just happen, that the executions were in fact a spontaneous event, and the Minister's conversation an innocent occurrence."
"Indeed, it is possible; on the subject of Voldemort's supporters, tempers shall be very high in the wizarding community for some time to come," Dumbledore mused. "However, whatever the cause of the executions, we have escaped Death Eaters to deal with. I shall go to the Ministry now and find out what has happened. If you can both meet me here after supper, we can discuss things further." He moved towards the empty fireplace.
Both McGonagall and Snape cleared their throats at the same time. Dumbledore turned back inquiringly.
"Professor, perhaps you would care to change first?" Snape pointed out.
Dumbledore looked down at his nightshirt and chuckled. "Indeed. Well spotted, Severus." The bedroom doorway reappeared and Dumbledore disappeared through it, calling as he went, "I will see you both this evening."
Snape and McGonagall were left alone in the Headmaster's study. He gave her a long considering look, and she pursed her lips. "I came back from St. Mungo's to find out what had happened. Since it was late, and my own rooms have still not been repaired, the Headmaster kindly let me sleep in his study."
'Of course," Snape said dryly. "It is a nuisance that one cannot Apparate within Hogwarts, isn't it?"
"Sometimes, yes," she agreed. "However, the protection it affords us has proven very valuable in the last few years."
"Indeed." He gave her an indecipherable last look and moved to the study door. He paused there, and said, "However, the Headmaster's intimate apparel does appear to suit you quite well." His eyes narrowed.
Her face was a picture of outrage.
*******************************************
The Ministry of Magic was alive with a wild celebration when Dumbledore appeared. Masses of people were streaming through the atrium, hugging each other, waving copies of the Daily Prophet from which blared the headline 'Voldemort Gone for Good!' Dumbledore was reminded of a similar celebration almost twenty years ago, when Voldemort had suffered his first defeat. But this time it was certain; the Daily Prophet had crossed the bounds of good taste and even had a photograph of the body to satisfy any lingering doubts. Dumbledore averted his eyes from it.
When he was spotted making his way through the thick crowd, a roar of approval went up. Suddenly he was surrounded by beaming faces, hands waving towards him begging to be shaken. An unintelligible yelling surrounded him: he could only make out a few of the most often repeated phrases. "Well done, Dumbledore!" "You did it!"
He held up his hands for silence, and after a short while the cries of approval died down. Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say.
'My friends, the war is finally over, because of the bravery of many people. Some of those people are with us still; but others had to give their lives to save us from a terrible menace. Let today be one of celebration, yes, but also of remembrance for those who are no longer here to share the celebration, but who have the greatest right to."
While the crowd was silent, working through what he had said, he managed to slip through them and into the main offices.
In Fudge's anteroom there was also a crowd of people, but the atmosphere here was very different. Several people sat alone in the seats, sobbing quietly. Others had congregated into small groups, comforting each other. They did not seem to notice Dumbledore enter.
He saw Arthur Weasley, red eyed, staring glassily at nothing, and moved over to him. "Arthur," he said quietly.
"Oh, Dumbledore." Arthur Weasley's voice seemed to come from far away.
"Why aren't you with Molly and your family, Arthur?"
"I got summoned this morning… told I had to come in today to receive… to receive a citation for Ch-Charlie's br-bravery –" Arthur broke down then, and Dumbledore held him as he cried helplessly.
An aide came towards them. 'Professor Dumbledore, the Minister will see you now."
"In a moment," Dumbledore replied gently, still holding the sobbing Arthur.
"Professor, you can't keep the Minister waiting!"
Dumbledore looked at him, and the aide quickly retreated.
Arthur drew away, wiping his face on his sleeve. 'No, he's right, Dumbledore, you'd better get in there," he hiccoughed, looking ashamed. "I'll be all right."
"Are you certain, Arthur?"
"Yes. I'll get through this, and then get back to Molly. She and Ginny need me right now." Arthur's eyes had regained some of their focus, and they stared at Dumbledore determinedly.
"If there is ever anything I can do -"
Arthur nodded. Both men shook hands gravely. Then Dumbledore started to move towards the Minister's office, stopping every few steps to talk to those faces he knew - and he knew many of them. Words of condolence were useless, so he did not say them, but his feelings could be read without words. It took him quite some time to reach the Minister's office, but none of the aides dared to interrupt him again.
"Dumbledore. It is good to see you." Cornelius Fudge looked like he had not slept at all.
"And you," Dumbledore replied. "Cornelius, why are there grieving people in your anteroom?"
Fudge brightened a little. "We're giving them citations."
"Which is a good idea," Dumbledore said gently, "but is now really the best time?"
"Of course it is! We have to let them know how much we appreciate their bravery and their sacrifice! The sooner they know how much the magical community supports them, the better!"
Dumbledore sighed, shook his head slightly, but said nothing. It was too late in any case – the damage was done. Better that they got this over and done with than to be asked to go home and face it again later.
The brightness faded from Fudge's face, to be replaced with grim tiredness. "But I don't think you came to talk about the citations. We now have the names of the escaped Death Eaters.
"Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and Peter Pettigrew."