Healer Coventry “call me Covey” Cook was nothing like Harry had expected. Unlike the matronly Madam Pomfrey, who could be anyone’s stern grandmother, Healer Covey didn’t look old enough to be a Healer.  She was young, with spiked blonde hair tipped in a bright blue that matched the color of her eyes. She had a sparkling nose ring, wore stylish robes, and smiled easily. She spoke with an odd accent—part Scottish, part he-had-no-idea-what, and blew and snapped bubbles of bright pink bubblegum with enthusiasm.

When Harry spoke, she stopped popping her gum mid-snap and tilted her head in such a way that she made you feel that whatever you were saying was the most important thing in the world. He liked her instantly, and imagined that her demeanor made it easier for kids to relate to her. She reminded him a bit of Nymphadora Tonks.

"Aye, laddie, let me take a look at ye then. It wonna hurt a bit." Covey waved her wand over Harry, generating an even more detailed list of the injuries Harry had suffered throughout his life.  

Harry observed the healer, but no matter how long the list on the parchment grew, her demeanor didn't change. She was cheery and light-hearted, with a positive attitude that was infectious. He supposed that would help to keep her younger patients calm. Harry found it equal parts encouraging and disconcerting. He supposed it did inspire confidence, though.

"Hmm…” Covey said, studying the list. “You had a bad break in this wee bone here, see?" Healer Cook said, holding up Harry's right hand and showing him his pinkie finger, which he couldn't quite straighten. "Do ye remember how ye got it?"

Harry shook his head. 

"What about this scar here on yer neigh shoulder, do ye remember that?"

 "No, not really," Harry responded.

 "Aye, I betcha you were just a youngin’ when it happened," Covey proclaimed, smiling. "An’ here?"

 "That was from Quidditch," Harry replied. "Third year." 

 "Aye, dangerous sport, that," Covey said, “though I must admit I played it fer a bit.”

 “Did you?” Harry asked.

 “Aye, I did.” Covey said, glancing between Harry and the parchment.

 “What position?”

 “Keeper. Til I nearly had me head knocked off. Sort o’ lost me interest after that I’m afraid.” Laughing softly, Covey continued. "Last question, Laddie. What about this leg here. Looks like a nasty one. Transverse fracture an' all."

 Harry shook his head. A transverse fracture didn't sound good, but he had no memory of that either. "I don't remember," Harry uttered. "Is that unusual? That I can't remember?"

 Healer Covey smiled reassuringly at him. "Not at all, Laddie. Tis perfectly normal. Now, be a good lad, aye, and stay put. I just need ta nip up and have a word with the Headmaster." 

Dumbledore and Severus Snape were discussing the situation with Dolores Umbridge when there was a knock on the headmaster’s door.

 "Come in," he called, pleased to see the young woman who awaited his audience.

 "Ah Healer Cook," Dumbledore said, striding to the door to welcome her. "Let me introduce you to my esteemed colleague, Severus Snape. He is our Potions Master and a Professor here at Hogwarts."

 "Pleased ta meet ye, Professor," Covey said, holding out her hand.

 “Healer Cook,” Snape said, shaking her hand.

 “Please, call me Covey. The headmaster speaks very highly of you.”

 “The headmaster,” Snape said with a scowl, “is much too generous.”

 Covey laughed softly and Dumbledore, who was watching the two closely, smiled.

 "So you have met our Mr. Potter, yes?" Dumbledore inquired.

 "Indeed, I have. Nice young lad. Run afoul of some Muggle relatives, aye?"

 “Indeed,” Snape confirmed. "Can you heal him?"

 "Physically, aye," Healer Cook said, directing her response to Snape, "but there's more to it than that."

 Dumbledore noticed that the usually cheery healer was looking quite grave. "What have you found?" 

 "He donna remember his injuries." She looked to the headmaster. "That is nay a good sign, Albus. True he was too much of a wee bairn to remember some o' them, but others... I ken he's repressed them. Too painful, ye see?"

 Dumbledore took a deep breath. Snape's face darkened.

 "There's more too, I reckon. Because he used untrained magic to heal himself, the memories will be tied up in the partial healin’. I canna heal over what he did; I have to undo it first, and then heal from the base up, ye ken?" Healer Cook’s gaze was steady, intent. "That means when I release his magic, all of those memories, and the pain, will be a comin’ back at him. It mighta be too much for him to handle."

 Dumbledore carefully considered this, before asking the room at large: "Do you have any recommendations? Magical or Muggle?"

 "Certainly a calming draught would be in order. An’ pain potions, too." Healer cook replied.

 "Done," Snape said. 

 "But I donna reckon that will take care o’ it all. The memories were repressed for a reason. Once they escape the binds holdin' them, I imagine the lad will have some sufferin' and such. PTSD the Muggles call it. I’d recommend findin’ him a counselor. He’s gonna be needin' ta talk ta someone."

 Dumbledore glanced at Snape, who shook his head. "The boy has already showed you some of his memories, Severus. It only makes sense." 

 "I am NOT a counselor, Albus. I am a Potion's Master." 

 "And the head of Slytherin house, where you have counseled many students." 

 "So send him to McGonagall," Snape retorted. 

 "Ah, but he did not share his memories with Minerva. Nonetheless," Dumbledore said, raising a hand to silence Snape's objections, and turning his attention back to the healer. "What else may be needed to help Harry through this?"

 "I am concerned that we will release too much at once, too many memories. It would be much better if we could release them slowly. But there's no tellin' what will come out when we undo his magic. He wonna remember what he used so he wonna know what's all tied up in there."

 Silence held sway in the room until Snape looked to Dumbledore and uttered one word. "Occlumency." 

 Dumbledore considered this. "Severus, do you think you could shield the boy's mind during the healing process? Act like a filter for him, if you will. Release the memories in bits and pieces, over time, so he could handle them."

 Severus snorted. "As if he'd agree to that."

 "He might not have a choice," Dumbledore replied, his tone serious. 

 "Covey, are you familiar with the field of Occlumency?"

 "Nay, Albus, I am not."

 Dumbledore spent some time explaining the theory, with Snape jumping in on occasion to clarify. Finally, Dumbledore said, "Do you think it could work?"

 "Well," Healer Cook considered, "I donna think we got anythin' to lose by tryin' it." 

 Harry was not surprised to see Healer Covey and Dumbledore enter the infirmary. He was, however, surprised to see that Snape was with them. He reflected that he shouldn't have been, though, since Snape had said it would take more than one session to cure him of the Dark Magic that Umbridge had tortured him with. Even so, Snape was looking markedly uncomfortable. 

 "Hello, Harry. How are you feeling?" Dumbledore inquired. 

 "Fine." 

 "Good, good. Healer Cook here was just telling us what would be needed to heal your old injuries. As you already know, you used some of your elemental magic to stabilize them. Unfortunately, in order to restore you completely to health, Healer Cook will need to undo those fixes, and re-heal them from their original injured state." 

 Covey smiled and nodded. "Not ta worry, Laddie. I've done it hundreds o’ times before."

 "Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued, "When she undoes your magic, the original injury will pain you as it did when it first occurred. We have, however, some means of combating the worst of it. Professor Snape here," Dumbledore gestured to the stoic man standing beside him, "will administer pain relieving potions and a calming draught." 

 Harry studied the three figures around him. Healer Covey was looking pleasantly expectant, Snape was unreadable as usual, but Dumbledore looked unsettled. Harry shifted into a more upright sitting position. "And?" Harry inquired.

 "And," Dumbledore said, taking a calming breath, "there is some concern that the pain may be too much to handle."

 "Albus," Snape warned.

 Conceding, the headmaster continued. "Not just the physical pain, although I don't wish to minimize it. But what we are more concerned about is the emotional pain that may arise."

 "Emotional pain?" Harry questioned.

 "Healer Cook informs me that you do not remember how you obtained your injuries. We think that you may have suppressed those memories. A perfectly natural response, I assure you. For how could you continue to live with the Dursleys with the constant reminder of what they had done to you." 

 Harry noted that Dumbledore's face had taken on that aged look again, as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders.

 "To be bombarded with all of those memories at once, Harry, may be too much for any one person to handle." Dumbledore added.

 Harry swallowed. He didn't like the sound of any of this. "I feel okay now, though, Professor. Do I really need to be healed?"

 Before anyone else could answer, Snape said, "Yes, Potter, you do."

 "Yes, Harry," Dumbledore echoed. "You have likely grown used to the discomfort and don't even realize how much it affects you. And even if it doesn't affect you much now, it certainly will as you age."

 Harry couldn't imagine not being able to handle the memories. They were in the past. He probably just forgot them because they weren’t important. 

 "Lucky for you, laddie, your potions master has a good idea on how to help ya through it."

 Harry looked up, startled. He wasn't sure he would like anything Snape came up with. It probably would just make things worse. Instead of looking at Snape, Harry directed his gaze to Dumbledore.

 "Coventry is referring to Occlumency, Harry," Dumbledore stated. 

 Harry felt his stomach drop. No way was he going to engage in that again. That's how this whole things started. Vehemently, he shook his head.

 "No?" The headmaster questioned.

 "I can't do it, sir," Harry replied. Averting his gaze, he continued, "I never learned how."

 Harry waited for Snape to make some snide comment about his inadequacies or his laziness, but one never came. 

 "It would not be necessary for you to occlude, Harry. In fact, I'm not sure that you could even if you had gained some success with the skill. However, as you've already developed a link with Professor Snape, it might be possible for him to occlude for you, to shield your mind so to speak, if the healing process becomes too overwhelming for you."

 Harry swallowed. If his memories truly were that bad, did he really want Snape to see them? True, he'd already thrown a bunch at the man, but that was in a fit of anger. He wasn't in his right mind at the time. Knowing that Dumbledore was expecting an answer, Harry said, "Er, I really don't think that will be necessary, sir. I am sure I can handle it." 

 Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "It may be a lot to manage, Harry, and it would not be a sign of weakness if you needed help. The number and severity of your injuries are many."

 Directing the conversation away from Snape, Harry asked, "What would happen to me if I couldn't handle them, as you say?"

 The three of them exchanged a glance that made Harry feel decided uncomfortable. 

 Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "When the magical mind is overwhelmed by too much pain for too long a time, the damage can be irreparable."

 "Like Neville's parents?" Harry asked in a whisper.

 "I'm afraid so," Dumbledore said gravely. "To avoid that, Harry, it would be my preference to at least have Severus present, just in case he is needed. If you don't need him, no harm done. And if you do need him, he will be here to help you."

 Harry looked at Snape's inscrutable expression and wished he knew what the man was thinking. Rashly he blurted out, "And you agreed to this?" The question was clearly directed at Snape. 

 Snape nodded curtly, he lips pressed tightly together. 

 Harry flopped back against his pillows. He didn't like feeling that he didn't have a choice. Making one last ditch effort, imploring Dumbledore: "What about you? Could you be my shield?" The look on Dumbledore's face gave him the answer before the wizard even spoke. 

 "I am truly sorry, Harry, but for many reasons, I cannot."

 Harry turned away unhappily. He wanted to ask if it could be someone else, anyone else, but he already knew the headmaster's answer to that too. If there were another choice, he'd have been given it.

 Sighing, Harry said, "When do we begin?"

 Dumbledore cleared his throat. “We think it best to clear out the remaining dark magic from the Blood Quill first. As Professor Snape is needed for this, and as it is quite taxing for you both, we will aim for a schedule of every-other day. Once all traces of that curse have been removed, we shall commence the remainder of your healing.”

 Harry nodded. He had one more day of respite then.

 “For now, Harry, you may return to class,” Dumbledore informed him.

 Harry looked at his watch and practically groaned aloud. Charms was nearly over and the next class was double potions with the Slytherins before lunch. He glanced up at Snape who seemed to know what he was thinking.

 “Don’t be late, Potter,” Snape said, and then turned to leave the hospital wing.