When the three syllables "Vol-de-mort" echoed through the reception hall of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
Before the brief decade of relative peace that had preceded this dark moment in history, the British Ministry of Magic had endured decades of brutal turmoil and violence.
The man his followers called the Dark Lord had forged a terrible legacy of terror through countless cold-blooded murders and bloody massacres that still haunted the memory of magical Britain. He had imprinted his very name with such profound fear into the hearts and minds of all who heard it that even years after his apparent defeat, the trauma remained.
Even the Ministry of Magic itself, the official governing body of wizarding Britain and the institution meant to protect its citizens had shamefully resorted to calling him "You-Know-Who" rather than daring to speak his actual name aloud.
This cowardice had led to the entire British wizarding community treating the name like a curse in itself. The practice had made them a laughingstock among witches and wizards from other countries, particularly the French and Americans, who viewed the British fear of a mere name with bewildered contempt.
And now, years later, when Minister Amelia Bones spoke that forbidden name openly—everyone present felt as though they were witnessing nothing less than the dawn of a new era!
Clap.
The first sound of applause was hesitant. Then another joined it.
Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!
The pin-drop silence that had gripped St. Mungo's entrance hall erupted suddenly into thunderous applause. The clapping swelled rapidly, growing in volume and intensity until it was deafening!
"Brilliant!" Sirius shouted down toward Minister Bones from his position on the stairs, pumping his fist enthusiastically in the air like a much younger man. His gray eyes blazed with fierce approval and joy.
"She really is something, isn't she!" Hermione's cheeks flushed pink with excitement as she clapped with enthusiasm it. Her eyes were shining with pure admiration. "That took real courage—to say his name like that!"
"She certainly is impressive—" Ron agreed, clapping along with the crowd though his face showed hints of unease beneath the excitement. "But it wasn't exactly the wisest move, was it? You-Know-Who won't let this slide."
"That's exactly why it's so brilliant, isn't it?" Neville said with conviction. "I've always thought it was strange, actually... I mean, using 'You-Know-Who' instead of, Vol— Voldemort—"
Despite his brave words, Neville still shuddered violently as the name left his lips. Visible discomfort flashed across his round face, and his hands trembled slightly.
"If you'll excuse us—"
Rufus Scrimgeour's amplified voice cut through the continuing applause and cheering.
The crowd's enthusiasm remained overwhelming, people were pressing in from all sides, surrounding Minister Bones so wholly that she'd nearly disappeared from view. Scrimgeour had been forced to amplify his voice magically with his wand just to be heard over the noise.
"Minister Bones still has many more people to visit! She needs to see some of the critically injured patients upstairs who couldn't come down to the entrance hall!"
"Let's go—"
Sirius gestured for their group to move along. The crowd on the stairs were also gradually dispersing now.
Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder as they began climbing toward the fourth floor once more.
They encountered Neville's parents on the second-floor landing, emerging from a consultation with their Healer.
Frank and Alice Longbottom made a striking couple and had kind faces. Harry could see something of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in them.
They too had suffered significant injuries in yesterday's brutal battle.
Mr. Longbottom leaned on a cane. His wife Alice had her left arm wrapped in thick layers of white bandages that extended from shoulder to fingertips.
"Did you hear Minister Bones's speech just now, Frank? Alice?" Sirius asked with enthusiasm, his voice was still energized by what they'd witnessed.
"Of course we heard it—" Neville's father replied, sounding equally animated despite his physical discomfort. "We were on this floor, but her voice carried beautifully. Minister Bones's courage is absolutely admirable! Under her leadership, I truly believe the Ministry is bound to accomplish great things!"
Alice rolled her eyes tenderly at her husband's political enthusiasm. Then she looked warmly at Neville.
"These must all be your friends, right, Neville? Why don't you introduce us properly?"
"I was just about to, Mum—" Neville said with a grin, carefully supporting Alice's uninjured right arm with gentleness. "Well, that's Hermione. You already know her. And these are Ron, Ginny, George, and Fred—all Weasleys."
He gestured to each in turn.
"Hello, it's wonderful to meet you all—" Mrs. Longbottom nodded to each of them with warm courtesy. Then her brow furrowed slightly with concern. "Your father was injured too in the battle, wasn't he? How is he doing?"
"Arthur's up on the fourth floor recovering," Sirius interjected. "We were just heading up to visit him now, actually. You're welcome to join us if you'd like—I'm sure he'd appreciate the company."
"We'd be delighted," Frank said immediately, and naturally the Longbottoms fell into step with their expanded group as they resumed climbing the stairs.
Harry, as the grand finale of Neville's introductions, received a considerably more elaborate presentation from his friend.
"Ah, yes." Frank Longbottom's eyes flicked briefly instinctively to the lightning-bolt scar partially hidden by Harry's dark hair before he caught himself and looked away.
His voice was warm with interest. "Neville's told us quite a bit about you over this past month. He says you're quite brave. That's clearly true—having the nerve to run onto an active battlefield at your age! For an underage wizard, that's truly remarkable courage!"
"Please don't encourage him in that kind of recklessness, Frank!" Sirius said with feeling, rolling his eyes dramatically while Harry's face burned crimson with embarrassment.
"Fair point," Frank conceded with a good-natured laugh, though confusion still creased his brow as he continued.
"We all know yesterday's victory over Voldemort wasn't just Bryan's doing—Honestly, I fully expected the Ministry to make a huge propaganda campaign out of it! You know, 'Harry Potter Defeats Voldemort Again' or something equally dramatic splashed across the front page of every paper."
His confusion deepened.
"But I heard that for some reason, Minister Bones has strictly forbidden the story from spreading beyond. She won't even let the Daily Prophet print a single word about Harry's involvement. That doesn't seem quite fair to you, does it, Harry? This kind of publicity would make you famous throughout the wizarding world—well, more famous than you already are. After all, even Bryan— Oh!"
Frank stopped mid-sentence; his eyes widened. "You're already here, Bryan!"
As their group had chatted while climbing, they'd arrived at Mr. Weasley's room on the fourth floor without fully realizing how far they'd traveled.
The door stood partially open, and through it they immediately spotted Bryan Watson sitting in a chair beside Mr. Weasley's bed.
Wrapped in white bandages like an Egyptian mummy—only his eyes, nose, and mouth visible through the layers of dressing, Mr. Weasley appeared to be discussing something serious with Bryan. His furrowed brow showed traces of hesitation.
"Ah, you're all here—" Bryan said, noticing the group clustering in the doorway. He rose from his chair and nodded to them with his warm smile.
"When did you get here, Bryan?" Sirius raised an eyebrow with interest, stepping into the room.
"Actually, I came to the hospital with Amelia earlier," Bryan explained calmly.
He drew his wand from his sleeve with a gesture and conjured an entire row of chairs with a casual flick. Smiling as they settled themselves, he asked, "How was Amelia's speech?"
"Outstanding—" Sirius said with satisfaction. He sat down heavily and casually grabbed an apple from the overflowing fruit basket on Mr. Weasley's bedside table, taking a bite.
"But why didn't you show yourself downstairs and say a few words as well? Everyone knows you stood up to an enraged Voldemort face-to-face. If it had been you speaking instead of or alongside Amelia, people might have felt even more confident and secure."
Professor Watson hadn't conjured chairs for the young wizards when he'd created the seating.
Harry noted this silently, but hearing Sirius's question, he looked at Professor Watson with curiosity.
"I can't steal all the spotlight, can I?" Bryan chuckled. "Otherwise, Amelia would have quite a difficult time establishing her own authority as a wartime leader."
Sirius pursed his lips thoughtfully, seeming unconvinced by this explanation but was unable to find a good counterargument.
The exposed skin on Mr. Weasley's face—the small portions visible between bandages was still pale.
However, when he greeted everyone warmly, thanking them for visiting and exchanging cordial pleasantries with the Longbottoms, his voice was considerably stronger than yesterday's thread-like whisper that had barely been audible.
"My Healer tells me that if I'm lucky and there are no complications, I might be discharged by the end of the month—" Mr. Weasley said glumly in response to inquiry about his condition and recovery timeline. "A whole month stuck in this hospital bed, staring at these same four walls! I'll go absolutely mad..."
"Oh, it's not so bad really, Arthur. Time passes more quickly than you'd think when you're healing—" Mr. Longbottom said with humor, his eyes were twinkling with gentle mischief. "That's how Alice and I felt during our long stay here—we closed our eyes for what felt like a moment, and when we opened them again, a dozen years had passed!"
A wave of cheerful laughter filled the hospital room at this audacious joke, breaking the tension.
Even Mrs. Weasley managed a smile despite her worry. As long as Mr. Weasley could recover fully without lasting complications or permanent magical damage, that was the best possible outcome anyone could hope for.
"No need to rush your decision, Arthur—" Bryan said with an encouraging smile, leaning forward slightly in his chair. "You can use this downtime to weigh the pros and cons carefully and think seriously about my proposal. After all, it's a significant matter. These decisions shouldn't be made lightly or under pressure."
The moment Bryan spoke these words, the worry and discomfort in Mr. Weasley's expression immediately dissipated, replaced by the same gravity mixed with hesitation they'd all noticed when they first entered the room.
'What exactly was Professor Watson discussing with Mr. Weasley?'
Harry and Hermione both looked at Ron simultaneously with questioning expressions, silently asking if he knew what was going on with his father.
Ron could only return their curious gazes with a completely baffled expression and a small shrug, clearly just as mystified as they were about what kind of proposal Professor Watson had made.
"Speaking of which, were you two just—" Sirius began asking hesitantly with his natural curiosity. He gestured vaguely between Bryan and Arthur.
"Oh, there's no great secret here, Amelia and I have been discussing the creation of a new department at the Ministry. We need someone of Arthur's integrity and unique skill set to head it, so I came specifically to consult with Arthur about whether he'd be interested in the position." Bryan didn't keep them in suspense. He spoke directly.
'A new department? Someone of integrity?!'
Judging from the conflicted expression on Mrs. Weasley's face as she stood at the foot of her husband's bed, Hermione could sense that Mrs. Weasley seemed to hope that Arthur would accept this position.
After all, if the offer warranted Professor Watson making a personal visit to a hospital room, the head of this new department might not necessarily be highly ranked in the formal hierarchy, but it would certainly be critically important.
"What kind of department is it?" Sirius didn't bother hiding his intense curiosity and asked eagerly.
"The Department of Oversight." Bryan's smile grew meaningful.
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