It had been a few days since that trial. A few days since Harry had found himself (almost) face to face with a man he thought dead. A man who'd sacrificed so much. For his mother. For him. It had been beyond weird and Harry still didn't know what to make of it. But he did know he wanted to talk to Snape. If he could find him. Not the he knew what he'd say, but that could wait till he'd at least found the man.
This, and a more or less pointless excuse, was the reason he was now knocking on the Minister's door.