Dumbledore muttered a locking spell after they had all stepped into a dark hallway that seemed to be chillier than the night outside.
Madam Bones briskly rubbed her arms. "Well, Dumbledore, what no-"
A screaming voice interrupted her. "Filth! Dirty, muggle-loving Mudbloods!" How dare you enter this house!" Madam Black shook her fists at them from her portrait on the wall. Their heads swung round.
"He has to know we're here now," Dumbledore said quietly. "We must hurry." He began to stride towards the long staircase.
"Dumbledore! Albus Dumbledore, the great muggle defender! Traitor to your blood! Have you come to torture my poor niece too?"
Madam Bones had begun to follow Dumbledore up the stairs; now she stopped dead on the third stair. "Torture?" She stared at Dumbledore's back. "What the hell is going on?"
Dumbledore did not turn around. "We must hurry," was all he would say as he continued up the stairs, Minerva and Severus right behind him. After a moment the fifteen members of the Wizengamot's Circle followed – but now with more hesitant steps. The mystery was proving more worrying than they had imagined, and the small glimpses of their faces that the gloom of the house allowed showed them to be significantly paler than they had been in the streetlights outside.
At the top of the staircase Dumbledore stopped so suddenly Minerva, close behind, cannoned into him. He quickly turned, wrapping his arms around her waist to prevent the threatened faster trip back down the stairs.
She did not attempt to free herself, but instead looked up into his face. "Albus?" Around them the others gathered close. Severus already stood in the corridor, apart and aloof, quick eyes darting everywhere.
He kept hold of her. "He's left the bedroom. We should find him first."
For once not caring they were not alone she took his face in both hands. "First it must be seen. He cannot leave the house, and before we take him we must all bear witness to what he has done."
He did not want to agree, she knew; but he finally nodded gravely. Letting go of each other they moved to the bedroom Phineas Nigellus had indicated, the others following. Severus was there before them all, and stepped first through the door. He made a small choked sound.
It was a scene that could not be described – only revisited in nightmare. It was, normally, a somewhat dark and austere bedroom; Minerva had remembered it as the room Molly Weasley had put the two boys in the year of Voldemort's return. Two four-poster beds; dark wood furniture; heavy curtains on the window. Not attractive, but not frightening, either. Normally.
Madam Bones took two steps into the room. "My God." Her voice was quiet. "The blood. Look at the blood."
It was not that which made Minerva pale – she had been on battlefields before. But the smell – of filth, of degradation – drained the colour from her face. Next to her she felt Albus grasp her arm for a moment as if to steady himself; glancing up, she saw his bright blue eyes, tear-dimmed. "I should not have delayed so long," he said quietly to her. "If we had come as soon as we knew they were here..."
She laid her hand over his, where it rest on her arm, and squeezed it fiercely. "You didn't do this, Albus Dumbledore." Her whisper was almost furious in its vehemence. "How are you responsible for his madness?"
He did not reply, but instead looked away, and she knew whatever she said he would continue to blame himself.
Severus moved to one of the two unmoving bundles on the floor. He carefully lifted it onto one of the beds and began the examination. Letting go of Dumbledore's hand, Minerva went to help him. It only took them a few moments to find what they needed to know, and Minerva gently covered the form with a blanket.
Snape lifted his head to stare at the group who watched, clustered near the door. His face was paper white. "Bellatrix Lestrange," he told them. "Killed by Avada Kedavra."
"What was left of her," Minerva added in a voice of stone. "The Avada only happened less than an hour ago. She's been systematically tortured for the past two days – there are marks of Imperio and prolonged Cruciatus on her body. And some more – inventive – tortures, both magical and muggle."
Albus realised he had never seen her face like this before – not even in the midst of war. In every feature was written bone deep hatred.
Severus moved away from the bed to examine the other form still lying on the floor. "Lucius Malfoy," he confirmed, his tone almost clinical. "Also dead." He moved to the empty bed and, pulling off a sheet, quickly placed it over the remains.
Madam Bones' eyes blazed. "What happened to them? Who did this?"
"The answer to your second question is hiding somewhere in this house," Minerva snapped. "Shouldn't we get him first?"
Madam Bones turned to the gaping crowd. "Right. Three groups. Start searching every cranny of this cursed place."
"Oh, I say!"
"Amelia, I hardly think..."
"This is a job for the Aurors, surely!"
"Are you mad?"
"Are you wizards, or are you mice?" she shouted. The complainants stopped, stunned by the roar. Madam Bones turned to Dumbledore. "Who are we looking for, Dumbledore? We need to know – now."
The question he did not want to answer; but he did. "Cornelius Fudge."
For a long moment it seemed that the world did not move. Then Madam Bones said, softly, quietly, "No."
"Yes," was his only reply, in a tone as gentle as hers had been.
She shook her head – along with several others of the Wizengamot's Circle. "I don't believe it." Stalemate.
Minerva took a deep breath, but Severus forestalled her before she could erupt. "If you will allow me, Headmaster, Madam Bones," Snape held up his wand, "there is an easy way to prove guilt or innocence. Anteimago videre."
The room filled with a ghostly blue light, and the white form of the Minister of Magic drifted through the spectators towards the three human figures invisibly held immobile against the far wall.
A low moan burst from Madam Bones as the shadowy form began his obscene work on the female figure. "I'll kill him."
"Stand in line." As she spoke, Minerva McGonagall gently rested her hand on the blanket-covered form on the bed, as if sealing her vow.
"Now, steady on!" One of the Wizengamot members – Ermot Herm – now raised his voice. "What Cornelius has done has to be punished, I agree. But don't forget, these people were Death Eaters! They perpetrated tortures –" he flinched as the image of Fudge drew a knife blade along a human cheek, laying it open to the bone – "just like these…"
Madam Bones whirled around. "You think that excuses this horror?" To accompany her words the sound of a sharp slap echoed through the room, and Ermot staggered backwards, a red handprint emblazoned on his face.
"You miserable bastard," she raged. "So they were Death Eaters. So what? What does that make us if we condone this? That it comes from one of us makes it all the more unforgivable." She glared at the others clustered near the door.
Minerva, with one last glance at the shrouded figure on the bed, moved towards them. "It doesn't matter greatly whether you forgive him or not," she informed them calmly. "I cannot. I will kill him."
Snape, still standing by the form of Lucius Malfoy, looked up in some surprise. "Unexpected," he murmured. "Is Professor McGonagall so tender to Death Eaters that she would kill to avenge them?"
Minerva turned slightly to look at him. "Who they were has nothing to do with it, Severus. I'll kill anyone who does – that." She gestured to the wall, where the phantoms continued their play.
He nodded his head slightly as she turned back to face the Wizengamot. "Move," she commanded. None of them had ever been taught by Professor McGonagall, but they scrambled to make way for her with as much alacrity as first year Hufflepuffs. She went through the door without looking back.
Madam Bones let out a sharp hard bark of laughter. "Well," she said briskly, "if Minerva McGonagall has the guts to kill him, at least let's make it legal. All those in favour of the death of Cornelius Fudge for atrocities committed against his fellow man, raise your hands." Her own went up immediately.
Most of the others shot their hands up into the air straight after, their faces as set and grim as her own. A few looked uncertain, and they glanced over at Dumbledore for reassurance.
Albus had not spoken nor moved since Severus had cast his spell. His entire attention seemed rapt in the remembrance of torture playing out at the far wall. As the figure of Fudge raised his wand to perform the final curses a tear could be seen slipping down his cheek. At that, all but one of the dissenters thrust their fists into the air.
The lone holdout was Ermot. He shook his head. "Death Eaters killed my family. I won't condemn Cornelius for killing them."
Madam Bones' gaze softened – but only for a moment. "So you think revenge justifies all, Ermot? Even if it turns us into those who caused our grief?"
He looked shocked. "But I haven't – I wouldn't – "
"If you condone it in Fudge, doesn't that mean you would?"
He visibly struggled with it for a moment and then, reluctantly, his hand rose.
Madam Bones smiled an almost feral grin. "Right. Unanimously carried – or close enough for government work. Now let's go see if Professor McGonagall's already carried out the sentence. Groups of three, people; first to find him casts a Sending spell for the rest of us."
With Madam Bones at their head the Wizengamot members complied without a single complaint – for possibly the first time in their history. They had seen all they needed; now the hunt was on.