Disclaimer: This is a work of Fan Fiction; everything about Harry Potter belongs to J K Rowling. I own nothing.


Chapter One

The silver metal shimmered, reflecting the light off the collar pin on the immaculate dressed male who was striding confidently within the Ministry of Magic, London. As compared to the people around him who were dressed in typical wizarding fashion, robes, he was dressed in a black business suit, the black tie contrasting on his white shirt. An epitome of professionalism could be felt from him.

Placing his elbow down on the counter, he peered downwards, the female receptionist immediately looking up towards him with a friendly smile. He also noticed her eyes shifting to his collar pin, reading the letters formed by the metal, ICW. The International Confederation of Wizards, the magical world's intergovernmental organization.

"I've arrived with my team. I do hope the Ministry has helped to ensure that everything is in order." He addressed her with a slight German accent, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. At the mention of team, the receptionist eyes darted past him, witnessing a group of combined nationalities behind. Few were dressed similarly to the muggle fashion of who seemed to be the leader of the group, while the rest were in wizarding robes. What was consistent, however, was the shimmer of the words ICW pinned onto their clothing.

"If you are done…" A slight impatience appeared in the tone of his voice. "Please guide us to where we need to be."

"Y-yes…" The receptionist stuttered, quickly rummaging among all the documents on her desk before managing to find the one she was looking for. Handing the parchment over to the representative from the ICW, she visibly swallowed nervously before speaking. "Please head over to the meeting rooms then."

"Thank you."

Hans Richter sighed silently, leaving the receptionist behind after thanking her. Nodding over to the lifts, he signaled for his team to move.

Allowing his team to enter before him, Hans stood front center in the lift. As the gates closed, he noticed the space the rest of the team has given him. A wry smile appeared on his lips. Seemingly, his reputation still creates fear within others. Brushing his neatly groomed beard, trimmed to be short while covering most of his face, he could only sigh once again internally.

Perhaps after he was done with this case, he could honestly consider retiring. Hans pondered.

Age was catching up to him, if the wrinkles and the grey color of his hair and beard was an obvious indicator enough. Yet, even Dumbledore worked furiously past his prime. Then again, with a wizard of that caliber, when in his long life would be considered his prime? Hans chuckled.

Arriving on the fifth floor of the ministry, conveniently where the British seats of the ICW are located, Hans and his team left the lift. The parchment held in his hand was handed over to be passed around, orientating his team to which office and who they were about to speak to.

Like a well-oiled machine, there were no further instructions. His team disbanded and left, each heading to complete their duties, of which Hans was sure they'd perform admirably. He had hand selected them after all.

Knocking on the door, out of politeness than of necessity, Hans entered the room his charges are located.

His role was simple today. His team and Hans included are to collect information on an elusive international criminal wanted by the ICW. Knowing the criminal's past and behavior was important to help predict the criminal's next move, considering he had success in evading them for the past year.

"Good afternoon." Hans greeted the couple seated on the desk awaiting his arrival. "I'm Hans Richter, Team leader of Task Force Two. I'm also the Chief Officer in charge of arresting the criminal responsible to multiple breaches of the statue of secrecy, Harry Potter."

The pair exchanged glances before nodding their understanding.

Setting his briefcase on the table and taking a seat across the couple, he opened the briefcase. Setting fresh paper down on the desk, he smoothed the already flawless surface with his hands. A white quill was dipped in ink and set onto the paper, hovering stationary. "We'd be using an exact-quotes quill to transcribe this meeting for us." Hans informed them, noticing their eyes on the quill. "Rest assured, it will write as exactly as what is said."

Removing his wand from the inner breast pocket of his suit, he tapped the paper and a momentary shimmer was seen reflecting off.

"Record on the Fifth day of June, Year two thousand and nine, voluntary report of criminal Harry James Potter of Britain hereby commences. Officer in charge of report would be I, Hans Richter. Contributors to report are Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Hermione Jean Weasley nee Granger." Hans spoke, and true to his word, the quill filled out the words exactly.

Silence, the corner of Hans's lips twitched upwards as he noted the atmosphere of the room. Even the breathing of the individuals of the room could be heard audibly.

Ron and Hermione kept their fingers tangled between them, the pressure exerted onto each other's hands bordering on being painful, their discomfort showing visibly on their features.

Hans sighed, tapping his wand on the paper once again. The quill previously vibrating, waiting froze motionless. "It would be troublesome if the current British Head Auror and upcoming Head of the British Department of Magical Law Enforcement do not help to provide known information about a known criminal. Yes?"

Fury burned in the eyes of the redhead; however Ron tore his eyes away from Hans, courtesy of Hermione jerking his hand towards her. A silent exchange between their eyes and Hermione nodded.

"It's only about his past, when we're schooling with him and the years after that." Hermione re-explained to her husband. "We do not know where Harry is currently." She turned to look at Hans. "So asking that of us would be useless."

Hans nodded. "I understand. I'm merely here for Harry Potter's past. I do not need anything that's on public record. Like being the boy-who-lived, man-who-conquered, or his two years as an Auror. What I'm interested in, is his school years. I'm told it shapes and determines an individual." Hans smiled. "Also preferably if you have any idea of the six years of disappearance from Britain before he reappeared as a healer at your magical hospital."

Once again, glances were exchanged between the couple and Ron nodded to Hans.

Tapping his wand back onto the paper, a smile spread across Hans's face.

"We met Harry on the Hogwarts Express on our first year as students in Hogwarts." Ron began.

-Harry Potter and the International Confederation of Wizards-

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, leveled her stern gaze on the person across her.

"I do not understand the question."

"Let me repeat then." The ICW agent replied, visibly affected by her gaze. "Were you aware of Harry James Potter's interest in becoming a Healer?"

"Yes."

"Could you care to explain further?" The agent brows furrowed at how uncooperative the Headmistress was. "Please." He added, mostly out of fear.

McGonagall straightened, her lips thinning. Her eyes moved to the corner of the room, recalling the memory as she spoke.

"Mister Potter expressed his interest in becoming a Healer when I spoke to him about his future career during his fifth year. Considering his grades, it was quite a plausible career choice for him. Even if he was slightly lacking in his theoretical work, his practical was the best in his year." She paused, sorrow leaking into her demeanor. "However, towards the end, he laughed it off. Saying most expected him to be an Auror, and that it was a more practical choice for him."

McGonagall shifted her gaze back onto the agent. "I'm proud that after serving as an Auror for two outstanding years, Mister Potter decided to pursue his calling towards the magical art of healing. Considering how Saint Mungo's and the wizarding world have benefitted from his decision to switch to becoming a healer."

"So you're supportive of Harry Potter's decision to heal muggles magically, even at the cost of our secrecy?"

"It was a natural disaster. Lives were on the line. Magical or not…" McGonagall replied.

"I was not talking about his first transgression." The agent argued. "I meant, even now, after being punished for his role then, he aims to make a mockery of the statue of secrecy. How could you be supportive of that, knowing that magic now might not be able to combat the prowess of the muggles' weapons?"

Minerva McGonagall huffed, crossing her arms. "He is a savior, and a good man. What he is doing, while against the law, comes with good intentions. Also, it's against the law because the ICW is inflexible."

"Headmistress McGonagall!" The agent warned.

"I've said my piece. I'd like to leave." McGonagall stood.

"Is this how the Headmistress of Hogwarts should act?"

"I'm retiring." She replied, offering a thin-lipped smile before exiting the room, slamming the door behind her.

-Harry Potter and the International Confederation of Wizards-

"No. After he returned, we tried to continue the relationship. It did not work out." Ginevra "Ginny" Weasley answered. The professional Quidditch player was obviously impatient. "Look. I have a practice session I need to be at. I'd be late. So if you have questions, please speed things up."

"Are you still currently in contact with Harry Potter?"

"No."

"We're done then."

"Good." Ginny sighed, standing and leaving the office.

"Sorry about her." Ginny's brother apologized, offering a kind smile. "She take Quidditch really seriously. Not because perhaps she still has some lingering feelings that you dug up so brutally for Harrikins."

George Weasley rests his chin on his hand, his elbow on the table as he observed the ICW agent with interested eyes. "I'm afraid you would not get much out of me."

"…considering he saved my life." Fred Weasley continued beside his twin.

"That makes us quite indebted"

"to Harry. Who also happens"

"to be one of the key shareholders of"

"Weasley Wizarding Wheezes." The twins ended together, obviously having fun torturing the male.

"Let's get this over and done with." The agent groaned, nursing a headache from dealing with a Quidditch diva and her two impish brothers who seemed to enjoy completing sentences together.

"Do you know where Harry James Potter is?"

"Could be in Spain."

"Germany."

"Norway."

"USA."

"China."

"Good one, Gred."

"Why thank you, Forge."

"Enough! Do you know or do you not?"

"We currently do not know where Harry is." They both replied, flashing grins at the agent.

"Please leave."


Author's Note:

Hi. For anyone who has read my previous story and is still around, I apologize.

This story is a rewrite for the doctor, however done much differently.

Considering my previous story was left alone due to my time in the military, I'm happy to say I've completed my tour and is free to stay committed and faithful to complete this story, which has been nagging me inside my head forever.

For new readers and old alike, feedback and criticism is appreciated.

Thank you.