When he had told her all that Phineas Nigellus had witnessed in the Black house she looked appalled, and faintly sick.

"Merlin," she swore. "This is horrifying, Albus. Cornelius Fudge? The Minister of Magic? There have been many times when I'll admit I did not think as highly of him as you, but this…"

"Yes," he admitted heavily. "It appears my trust was greatly misplaced. But he was not an evil man, Minerva. I believe the power of his position has turned him towards evil, and his fear of losing that power spurred him to – this."

"I disagree." She said it simply. "Oh, I'll admit that the plot itself is not so inherently evil. We can guess Cornelius was the one who incited the Azkaban riots, just as Professor Snape's informant originally thought. Under cover of the riots he must have smuggled Lucius, Bellatrix, and Peter out and hidden them in the old Black house. What is planned next, given the Daily Prophet's lead article this morning, is obvious."

"I am afraid I have not yet had the pleasure of reading the newspaper," he admitted. "Accio Daily Prophet!" It appeared in his outstretched hand and he unfolded it. Staring out at him from the front page was his own face and a huge headline. "DUMBLEDORE OUR HERO – and our next MM?" Scowling slightly he made the newspaper vanish.

"Cornelius is, if nothing else, a very good politician. He would have realised long ago this might happen," Professor McGonagall continued her explanation. "So he decided to – what is the phrase – 'take out some insurance' to keep his position. No, none of that is shocking in itself; it is an evil a man could be drawn into, bit by bit, and still think he was not doing anything so very wrong.

"But what Phineas described as happening in that house… no, Albus. Those are the actions of a depraved man, and that depravity was born in him. Until now it has just never had the opportunity to come out."

He was horrified. "I cannot believe that! I cannot!"

"You must." Her hand reached across the desk to clasp his, but her voice was uncompromising. "You gave him your friendship and your trust. You helped him in every way you could. But he is not worthy of it. At the end, at the last test, he has proven himself rotten at the core.

"This is not your fault, Albus." She gave his hand a final squeeze and let it go. "It is his flaw."

He looked into her dark eyes, soft with sombre compassion. "I wish you were not right."

"I know."

"What shall we do, Minerva?"

"You know what we have to do." She leaned back slightly, upright in the hard-backed chair. "We have to stop him. We must catch him with the Death Eaters in front of witnesses, and confront him with what he has done."

He nodded. The study room was aglow with soft morning light; sunbeams were reflecting off dark wooden picture frames, warming the soft leather binding of ancient books, caught finally in Minerva's silken hair. His Minerva's silken hair. It seemed a scene ill suited to the darkness of his thoughts.

He thought of Cornelius Fudge, the man he had trusted. Had it not been for him and his deeds, at this moment, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore would have been completely happy. As it was… "I suppose there is no other way."

"There is none. He cannot be allowed to continue as Minister of Magic."

"So I shall alert Severus." He motioned to Fawkes and a few moments later the phoenix sped away. "When Cornelius next breaks through Severus' wards he shall warn us through Fawkes. We can then gather as many members of the Wizengamot as we can and go into the house ourselves." He sighed. "In the meantime we must wait."

"Well," she said briskly, "there's little point in waiting around here."

He stared at her perplexedly.

She rose from her chair. "This courting of ours. I believe long walks together are an established tradition?"

He rose also. "You wish to go for a walk?"

"With you. Yes."

"Why?"

"Because my robe already has dirt on it, so it won't damage it much more if we went wandering around the lake. Besides," she added pointedly, a certain glimmer of mischief in her eyes, "you interrupted my walk in the Forest this morning, and I wish to continue it."

"But now, Minerva?"

"Fawkes' warning will find you wherever you are. And I won't leave you here miserable." Minerva had a very determined expression on her face. "So if you are serious about courting me, Albus Dumbledore, then come and walk with me. Watch as our students enjoy their holiday."

He finally smiled, and came around his desk towards her. "I am very serious about courting you, Minerva McGonagall." He came by her side and extended his arm. "And it shall be my very great pleasure to walk with you."

Smiling herself she took his arm. They stood there a moment in the warm sunlight, forgetting for a few seconds the trouble surrounding them in the strange wonder of their changed relationship, expressed only in their entwining hands. Then, the doorway obligingly enlarging itself to let them through, they left the study together.

************************************

In the empty room there echoed a soft sigh.

"What's wrong now, Dilys?" snapped Phineas.

"Nothing whatsoever, Phineas dear," replied a serenely smiling Dilys Derwent. "I'm just happy, that's all."

"So," said a grinning Armando Dippet. "Do you think our boy will be all right after all, Dilys?"

"Oh, yes." Dilys' smile was almost dreamy. "She has a touch more bark on her than I would perhaps like – but all in all, gentlemen, once this current crisis is over, I think those two will be just fine."

And the portraits, all smiling, were content for the moment to leave it at that.