Harry and his friends were among the quickest to react to the commotion below.
But even with their immediate response, even running down the stairs as fast as they dared without actually falling, by the time they rushed back down from the fourth floor to the first, the entrance hall of St. Mungo's was already completely packed.
The hall overflowed with victims' families—witches and wizards whose loved ones lay upstairs in various states of recovery or decline.
Lightly wounded patients who could walk had hobbled down from the upper floors, some still in hospital gowns, bandages visible beneath hastily thrown-on robes. Even some unoccupied hospital Healers had abandoned their posts momentarily, drawn by the pull of this unexpected visit.
They had collectively left only a small space in the very center of the entrance hall for Minister Bones who stood dressed in solemn black robes that seemed to absorb the light around her, and Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, whose head was wrapped in blood-stained bandages that hadn't been changed since yesterday's battle.
His magical eye buzzed and spun constantly, maintaining vigilance even in this environment.
With no room to even stand on the crowded first floor, Harry and his friends could only remain on the stairs. They stood on the steps, craning their necks and rising on their toes to watch Minister Bones as she made her way through the crowd, shaking hands with each of the injured one by one.
The noise of voices made it completely impossible to hear what specific words she was saying to each person.
"Why is Professor Moody with Minister Bones instead of resting?"
Harry muttered to his friends, his eyes tracking Moody's figure through the crowd below.
During their stay at Grimmauld Place over the past month, whenever they called him Professor, Moody would angrily shout at them, reminding them that he had never actually taught at Hogwarts for even a single day.
But Harry and the others still habitually addressed him as Professor regardless.
"My situation only allows me to take temporary leave."
Sirius's voice suddenly appeared behind them on the stairs, making several of them jump slightly.
"But the Minister's safety is the most important thing in times like these, especially when she insists on making public appearances in crowded, difficult-to-secure locations like this. So I asked Alastor to fill in for me for a few days while I recover. He's the best there is for personal protection."
"What is Minister Bones doing here, Sirius?"
Hermione raised her chin slightly. Her brown eyes were thoughtful as she watched the Minister move through the crowd.
"Offering condolences to the families of the fallen and visiting the wounded, of course."
Sirius said simply.
"We've suffered tremendously heavy losses in yesterday's battle, haven't we? Dozens dead, hundreds injured. The Minister believes these people deserve to see that their government—that their leader—hasn't forgotten them or dismissed their sacrifices as mere statistics."
Many people in the crowd below were waving enthusiastically to Minister Bones, calling out greetings and thanks. Their faces showed a mixture of grief, exhaustion, and something like hope or at least determination.
Harry simply watched the scene unfold in contemplative silence, his expression was incomprehensible.
If it were Cornelius Fudge down there making this show of solidarity, Harry would certainly think that he was just putting on a performance for the cameras and reporters.
But Minister Bones was different. Harry could see that even from this distance.
She was surrounded by the crowd below with deep resolve and determination on her expression—when she faced those injured victims and their devastated families, the grief and fury burning in her eyes couldn't escape the notice of anyone paying attention.
"She looks so much older than she did during the Triwizard Tournament—"
Ron's sudden observation, spoken in a hushed tone, made Harry look at Minister Bones with fresh eyes.
Indeed, compared to a month ago when she'd been a dignified presence at Hogwarts during the Tournament, Minister Bones had noticeably aged. There were more wrinkles on her forehead and around her eyes. Her hair had become more silver as if grief and responsibility had leached the color from it.
"After all, we're in wartime now. A hardline Minister for Magic who refuses to compromise with dark forces has to bear an enormous amount of pressure and criticism from all sides—"
Sirius sighed heavily.
"She shouldn't be here—"
Harry's sudden remark left Neville looking bewildered and confused.
"Why not, Harry? Isn't it good that she's showing she cares?"
"There might be Voldemort's minions hidden here among the crowd. They might take this opportunity to attack her."
Harry's voice was low as he thought back to the Death Eater he'd seen in this very hospital yesterday—the one Mrs. Weasley had recognized.
This wasn't baseless speculation or paranoid fantasy. Harry's warning did carry some real possibility.
Sirius's expression darkened immediately at Harry's words. His body language shifted, becoming more alert. His vigilant gaze swept back and forth through the crowd below, searching for anyone who looked suspicious or out of place.
Just then, as if Harry's concern had summoned danger into being, a woman holding a small child suddenly pushed roughly through the crowd. Her movements were desperate as she rushed toward Minister Bones with!
Moody, true to his well-earned reputation as one of the most experienced and paranoid Aurors in the Ministry's history, reacted immediately even in this chaotic environment. His movements were so fast they seemed almost superhuman—years of constant vigilance had trained his reflexes to respond before thought could even process the threat.
He stepped forward with his stomping gait, his wand appeared in his hand as if by magic. The tip pointed directly at the charging witch's forehead, steady as stone despite his rapid movement!
The atmosphere in the entrance hall instantly became knife-edge tense, the temperature seemed to drop several degrees. The noisy crowd fell completely silent as if someone had cast a Silencing Charm over the entire room.
"Not like this, Alastor—"
Minister Bones's voice finally reached the ears of those watching from the stairs.
"I believe this lady doesn't mean me any harm."
She turned her gaze to the woman.
"Do you, madam?"
Looking at the grief-stricken witch and the young child in her arms who had been frightened into silence by the sudden tense atmosphere and the sight of a wand pointed at her mother's head—Minister Bones's resolute face softened somewhat.
Reaching out with calm, she pushed aside Alastor's extended arm gently moving his wand away from the woman. Under the gaze of everyone in that crowded hall, Minister Bones gently supported the tearful witch's trembling arm where she held her child.
She asked in a warm, encouraging tone, "You want to tell me something, don't you, madam? I'm listening. Please, speak."
The witch was clearly of ordinary station. The overwhelming pressure of so many eyes fixed upon her, combined with the crushing sorrow weighing on her heart, left her unable to speak a single clear word in response to the Minister's gentle question.
She could only sob sorrowfully.
"I—my husband is—is Kush Tucker, Minister."
Under Minister Bones's continued comfort and encouragement, the tearful witch finally managed to speak through her tears.
'Kush Tucker.'
Harry searched his memory but had no recollection of that name. It meant nothing to him. And he was quite certain that Minister Bones wouldn't have heard it either before this moment.
Minister Bones didn't ask who Kush Tucker was, nor did she need to ask what had happened to this obscure wizard. It was all painfully obvious.
"Your husband must have loved you and your child very much—"
Minister Bones simply took a deep, steadying breath before speaking. Her voice carried across the silent hall with clarity.
"I believe he went to the battlefield for you and your child, didn't he?"
The witch sobbed even more uncontrollably at these words. Harry strained his ears, leaning forward on the stairs, and could barely make out what she was saying between her broken, gasping sobs.
"Kush and I—we were so happy when he became an Auror for the Ministry. We'd been living in such hardship before... I begged him not to go yesterday. But Kush—Kush told me he should go, that he had to join the resistance, because if—if the Dark Lord won this war, wizards like us would become slaves."
Harry immediately felt a surge of deep respect for this wizard named Kush Tucker—a man he'd never met, would never meet, but whose courage and shone through his widow's words!
"What should I call you, madam?"
After listening intently to everything the woman had to say, Minister Bones asked after a brief silence. Her voice was gentle but clear.
"Naomi... Naomi Rose, Minister—"
"Naomi—"
Minister Bones made her voice louder, projecting it so everyone in the hall could hear clearly.
"First, please allow me to express my deepest respect for your husband, for Mr. Kush Tucker. Without question, he was a warrior and a hero. Even if he may not have been an exceptionally gifted wizard—even if his name was not widely known, even if he held no high position, his courage in confronting evil is absolutely admirable and worthy of honor."
Minister Bones's voice rang with conviction.
"The Ministry of Magic is proud and deeply honored to have had an employee like Mr. Kush Tucker. His sacrifice will not be forgotten. His name will be recorded among the heroes of this war."
Mrs. Naomi Rose could no longer even support her own weight. Her legs gave out beneath her as the full weight of her grief and the Minister's words crashed over her.
Moody and Rufus Scrimgeour who had appeared from somewhere in the crowd, had to step forward quickly to help support her arms, keeping her from collapsing to the floor.
"Second, I want to tell you something, Naomi, and I want everyone here to hear this as well—"
Minister Bones raised her voice further, addressing not just the grieving widow but the entire crowd.
"You needn't worry about your future. The Ministry of Magic will honor Mr. Kush Tucker's bravery with more than just words. You will receive a considerable sum of galleons from the Ministry's war relief fund—enough to ensure your livelihood for years to come, enough that you won't have to worry about keeping a roof over your heads or food on your table."
She continued, her voice grew stronger:
"Furthermore, your child—whether or not she is admitted to Hogwarts will be guaranteed a well-paying position within the Ministry when she comes of age."
Minister Bones raised her head, struggling to contain the surging emotions that tried to overwhelm her own composure.
"And let me be clear—this is not just for Mr. Kush Tucker. All the witches and wizards who sacrificed themselves on yesterday's battlefield will receive such compensation. Every single one, regardless of their station or fame. Those who participated in the war and were wounded or disabled—you are all brave fighters, all heroes deserving of recognition."
Her voice rang with authority and passion:
"The Ministry of Magic will award each of you medals of courage and generous monetary rewards. Your names will be inscribed on a memorial that will stand in the Ministry's atrium. Future generations will know what you did, what you gave, what you sacrificed for their freedom!"
"Bellatrix would absolutely go mad if she knew the galleons she inherited from the Black family fortune was being used by the Ministry to reward wizards resisting Voldemort."
Sirius hummed twice with deep satisfaction.
"Everyone, please listen—Mr. Kush Tucker's words have told the entire wizarding world exactly why we must wage this war."
Minister Bones straightened her posture. Her eyes blazed like coals as she looked around at everyone in that crowded hall, making eye contact with as many as she could.
"Evil forces will not show mercy simply because we submit to them. They will not stop their encroachment and violence because we yield. Those dark wizards who have been lurking in the shadows for decades, gathering their strength—their true goal is not merely power for its own sake."
She paused, letting the silence stretch.
"Their goal is to dominate our entire world through tyranny and fear, to impose their twisted ideology on everyone, and to turn all of us into slaves! Slaves with no rights, no protections, no hope!"
Harry stared focused at the impassioned Minister Bones, utterly transfixed by her words and presence. He could feel his heart pounding, could feel the blood coursing hot through his veins in response to her speech!
"Everyone, I know, we all know—that no one wants to see their loved ones perish in war. No one wants to bury their children, their parents, their siblings, their friends. No one wants to see our prosperous magical civilization suffering and wailing in the flames of battle, watching everything we've built burn!"
Minister Bones's eyes blazed with fury.
"But we must face the truth, no matter how uncomfortable: sometimes we have no choice but to fight! For ourselves, yes—but more importantly, for our children and grandchildren.
So that they can live in a world where they are respected rather than viewed as slaves. So that they can grow up free in a society based on justice and law rather than privilege and blood status—we must fight to the very end!"
She raised her fist in a gesture of defiance.
"The Ministry of Magic will never surrender to Voldemort!"
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