Cutting things out.
Keep your head down, Dolores. Keep busy. You haven't done anything wrong. You gave that-- that mad woman information because she said she was a concerned citizen. You certainly didn't think she'd use it on an auror killing spree.
The first thing I must do. The very first thing. Is to wash my hands of all things remotely related to Bellatrix Black-Lestrange. No more letters, no more pleasantries. It's high time that woman gets thrown behind bars, if her husband can't even leash her.
Besides, I got what I want from her. I'm already promoted. She can rot in Azkaban for all I care.
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Job cuts. How exciting! I like to compare it to a professional game of musical chairs, where the unlucky person who is left without a seat is not only eliminated from the game, but ejected rather unceremoniously from the Ministry. Of course this game is only for those in the lower rank employees, but it's rather fun to watch.
And while the Minister is the one who, regrettably, signs the cuts, it falls to me to invite the unfortunate almost-former-empolyee of the Ministry to my office, have him sit down, offer him some tea, and break the news as gently and professionally as I can.
Attention, Demetrius Shunpike of the Department of Floo and Transportation. Would you like some tea?