Location: Hogwarts staircase, descending from the third floor to the entrance. Present: K. Shacklebolt, A. Dumbledore; various unidentified parties hurry about the Entrance Hall below.
SHACKLEBOLT: We’re out, Albus.
DUMBLEDORE: [taken aback] Out? What do you mean?
SHACKLEBOLT: I’m pulling my team. We’re out. Really, we were never here.
DUMBLEDORE: I see. I see.
SHACKLEBOLT: You – you understand. I hope.
DUMBLEDORE: Ah, yes. I understand.
SHACKLEBOLT: Fucking hell, Albus. This can’t come back to us. You understand that, yes?
DUMBLEDORE: I always suggested, Kingsley, that you let us handle it.
SHACKLEBOLT: I don’t – I don’t know if – fuck, Albus. Scrimgeour will –
DUMBLEDORE: Let us handle it, Kingsley.
SHACKLEBOLT: A body, Albus. A fucking body.
DUMBLEDORE: It will be taken care of.
SHACKLEBOLT: There’s a witness.
[Pause. They have reached the bottom of the stair. Dumbledore breathes deeply. Then he shakes his head and gazes at Shacklebolt with a faint smile.]
DUMBLEDORE: [placing a hand on Shacklebolt’s back.] Kingsley, Kingsley. You’ve nothing to fear. Look where you are. [Gestures and smiles.] It’s Hogwarts.
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