Chapter 1: Spook
"Well find him!" yelled Fury, his veins pulsating with anger. There was a reason for this frustration. A few hours back an unknown had been recorded going through Baghdad International. It was late 2003, operation Desert Storm, and coalition troops were pushing through at speed. Both British and Americans, on a scale that hadn't been seen since WW2.
"Sir!"
The yell caught his attention.
"I've found him! Captain Nick Warhurst of 45 Commando RM. Joined out of school, straight A stars with both A-levels and GCSEs. Been in the Marines for… Sir?"
"Yes?"
"He's a spook. Made up."
-§-
Nick Warhurst was an odd man, and not just because he was made up. His parents had been killed in 1981. A terrorist, the authorities called their killer. He had moved to his aunt's and uncle's house, where he lived until he was ten. Then, on one stormy night, in a lighthouse on the Solent, a giant burst in, turned his cousin into a pig, broke his uncle's shotgun, and gave the poor, young scared Nick a squashed cake. But the most odd thing about this made up person is that he got straight A*s. And that was not made up.
Harry Potter was an even stranger boy. When he was eleven, he saved Nick's stone. When he was twelve, he saved a girl from a monster. When he was thirteen, he rescued his godfather. Fourteen? Won a tournament. Year after? Lead a student based section into the almost certain death and didn't lose a single student. Sixteen? Saw his headmaster die. Seventeen? Killed the terrorist who killed his parents. The most odd thing about him? He got straight O's. That wasn't made up either.
-§-
I will let you into a little secret. You may have already guessed the answer. Harry Potter is Nick Warhurst. He took his exams with Hermione Jean Granger when he was in fifth year. He joined Her Majesties Royal Marines 45 Commando as a 2nd Lieutenant and traveled up the ranks until he was a Captain. He joined the SBS.
And why he was a spook? He was at Hogwarts for most of his secondary education. Special training for most of his life, and once the war was over, he wanted more. He wanted to feel alive, the feeling of when you are at being fired at. He wanted the camaraderie of the ranks. And most of all, he wanted to follow in the footsteps of his family: his great grandfather served in the Royal Green Jackets at Waterloo; his grandfather was an officer in both the Great War and the second; in the RFC with a chap named Algernon, and in the RAF with a Flight Sergeant Smyth. His father was the same as Nick, joining the bootnecks. Then he died.
During his Hogwarts years, Harry Potter was trained by a great number of people: Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, his godfather- Sirius Black. However, the lesson he learned the most from, was not from a master of warfare, evading, or camouflage. It was actually time spent with Penny and Nick, going to France, Germany, Russia even, learning languages and accents like they were his own. It was here that they knew him, and him alone. They told him what to do, and he loved them for it. Then they died.
-§-
It was only a matter of time before Nick got noticed. His four man section was often in and out of ops before the enemy realised they had been planned. When questioned, his mates said that "We closed our eyes, and something dropped on us. We went back in time he said. A secret experimental device, used to help secret ops like ours."
He got taken to a house at Tyneham. He got introduced to a man. A man named C. His actual name was Richard Dearlove, head of SIS. He got turned into their man. An assassin. A bodyguard. A spy. D39.
-§-
His job was supposed to be simple. "Set up a network, 39."the head of D had said. "Fun, relaxing, hot weather: what more could you want?"
To be honest he was expecting it, as he pulled his L9A1 Browning 9mm from its holster. It wasn't the first time the Americans had cocked up, and it certainly wasn't the last. A girl: Rosie George was at the centre of it. He was almost certain it wasn't her name, almost as certain that Nick Warhurst wasn't his. They had been tracking him for a while, apparently . Wanting to recruit him for a while, apparently. Well, apparently, an armed Soviet offshoot had wanting to kill him for a while. The Americans didn't know this, apparently. So they 'caught' Nick, and interrogated him. And, apparently, the Americans didn't know how to put up a cordon. So, Nick was under fire, with questions on one side, and bullets on the other.
"To be honest," he muttered to himself, "I'm not sure which I prefer-interrogation from the pretty redhead or the bullets."
"You better not be talking bout me sunshine, or I'll chop off your-"
"Yes Rosie, sorry Rosie, won't do it again Rosie."
"Shut up, bastard."
"Bitch."
"Limey."
"What does that even mean? I mean, I know it's for sailors, Brits especially, but bloody hell why is it bad? I was a Marine, for gods sake, now SBS, and-"
"No you're not. You are a spook aren't you."
"Fucking cunt."
AN: Hello. As you have probably figured out, this is my first fanfic, and to be absolutely honest, I am shite at English. Please, if you find any mistakes, tell me! Thanks.
Capoff