Time as a Healer

Harry strode into the Ministry and along the tiled corridor to the lift where Arthur Weasley, puffing as he ran to catch him up, joined him. Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder.



‘Harry… How’s my Grandson this morning?’ Arthur beamed at him.



Harry grinned at him. Arthur doted on James.



‘James is great, Arthur, he was throwing mashed banana around as I left.’ He smiled and his eyes glazed a little as he thought about his son.



‘Need to chat about the other matter later.’ His face was set as they looked at each other. Harry nodded.



There were other people in the lift and there was no sure-fire way of being sure where peoples’ loyalties lay. The Order had started to meet again, even though most of the members were younger now. Hermione had been excluded because, as far as the Order was concerned, she was already guarding their secret weapon. But Harry wanted her back in the fold. She wouldn’t be able to cope with not knowing if Severus was alive or dead and this way, she would know what was happening as soon as the rest of the Order.



‘See you tonight, Harry.’ Arthur nodded as he left the lift.



The doors closed and Harry closed his eyes momentarily. Like everyone, he had hoped that Voldermort’s death would be the end of it. But it hadn’t been like that at all. Of course, things had been quiet for a few years. Everyone had started to live their lives again and there was a lot of joy. Harry married Ginny and they started trying for a family straight away. Ron moved in with Lavender, who got pregnant almost immediately and was now expecting their second child. The Order was disbanded because there was no role for them and everyone was happy.



Then, just when everyone was settled, the rumours started that another had assumed the title of Dark Lord from the shadows and was rounding up the secretive few that still held Voldermort in high regard. These were old Deatheaters who hadn’t made the most of the opportunity afforded by his death to actually go off and have a better life, one not tainted by raping and torturing muggles and other debauched activities. Harry shook his head a little. How could anyone derive pleasure from another person’s pain? He had never got his head around it.



His mind drifted back to Severus. He was in awe of him. It was only after Voldermort had died that Harry had learned the full extent of his involvement for the Order. He had spoken at length with Albus’s portrait and he had told him everything. He had protected Harry from the outset, although he hadn’t known that at the time. The memory of losing Lily that haunted him each time he looked at Harry and the pain that it caused him manifested itself in what Harry had wrongly assumed to be hatred. Ruefully, Harry realised that if things had been different between his Mother and Severus, he could have been his son and not James Potter's.



He had been glad for Severus when he fell in love with Hermione. He just hoped that he would still love her when all of this was over, because at the moment, Severus Snape didn’t know who he really was. He didn’t even know he was a wizard.



Stepping out of the lift, Harry took a deep breath and walked quickly down the corridor. He knocked on a large black door and waited.



Rufus Scrimgeour looked up from his desk and raised his wand. The door opened and Harry walked in, sitting down without being invited in the chair opposite the Minister.



‘I take it you have news for me, Harry?’ Scrimgeour’s voice was like an oil slick and Harry fought the urge to shudder.



It still rankled that the Order was now closely aligned to the ministry and it irked Harry all the more that he had been selected as the go-between for the Order, knowing that Scrimgeour wouldn’t speak to anyone else. But the Order needed to keep him on side, they were a depleted group and they may need the Ministry’s help at a later date.



Harry forced a small smiled on his face. ‘I have, Minister. The Order has been successful in locating Severus Snape. His memory had been modified and he has been living as a muggle in a small town just outside London.’



Scrimgeour looked at Harry. He wasn’t a stupid man, he knew quite well that Harry had known the whereabouts of Snape all along but had kept this from him for some unknown reason. No matter, they had him now.



‘Excellent news indeed. And the plan is…?’ He leant forward on the desk.



‘To bring him back into the Order, reinstate his memories…. And end this new threat from the inside. Severus is our best hope.’ Harry looked at Scrimgeour, his face betraying no emotion.



‘How soon is this happening, Harry?’ Rufus stood and walked around his desk, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked.



Harry glanced at him briefly. ‘I don’t have that information. There is a meeting of the Order this week, I assume that decision will be made at that time.’



‘I wish to speak to Snape myself, you’re aware of that? I only have the word of a dead Headmaster that he is not a murderer, Harry. I am being put under pressure to send him to Azkaban, as you are aware.’



‘He is not a murderer!’ Harry snapped. They had already had this conversation. ‘If he goes on trial and is found guilty, he won’t be able to help us. He will be of no use locked away in Azkaban, Rufus.’



‘A trial would not be necessary if I can question him, with witnesses, with the help of Veritaserum.’ Rufus frowned down at Harry. He was showing remarkable loyalty to one who had killed a good friend in front of his own eyes.



‘I would have thought Albus’s word was good enough.’ Harry spat at him. This was getting them nowhere. ‘We need Severus. Let us use him to do what we have to do, Rufus. Then, if he agrees of course, you can question him afterwards.’



Rufus glared at Harry. How dare he tell him what to do? Harry showed him no respect. There was silence between them for a while. It stuck in Scrimgeours’ throat that Harry was right.



‘I cannot wait forever, Harry. Make sure I don’t have to.’ He gritted his teeth and Harry recognised that this meeting was over.



He stood and walked from the room without a backward glance. He didn’t need to look to know that Rufus Scrimgeour’s eyes were boring into him as he left.







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