The sounds of the hustle and bustle of London at lunchtime wafted through the open window, accompanied by the slightly putrid scent of the Thames. Harry Potter sat in silence, not daring to speak until the man in front of him did so first. The man was typing away at his computer, seemingly unaware of Harry who was sat across from him on the other side of his desk. The man kept typing, letting Harry wait. Harry had been waiting for twenty minutes already. Finally, he stopped. As the man turned to face Harry, he straightened the lapels on his pristine suit jacket, and spoke with a voice which was dripping with authority.
"Good Afternoon Agent Potter"
"Good Afternoon Sir"
The man took a folder from a drawer under his desk and slid it across the table towards Harry.
"Tell me what you see, Agent Potter"
Opening the folder, Harry was greeted with several photographs of charred corpses. There were about twelve of them, scattered on a stone floor. The corpses varied in size, the largest being the size of an average adult man, and the smallest being much younger. They were bad, but Harry had seen worse.
"I see bodies, Sir. Burnt ones"
"And tell me, how do you think they were burned"
"Well, there are no signs of charring on the stone, so they were set on fire somewhere else and the corpses were left here. As for the method of burning, it could be practically anything, Sir."
The man took another object from the drawer, and rolled it across the desk where it stopped in front of Harry. It was a short wooden stick, about ten inches long. It was a wand.
"This was left at the scene. A warning. The perpetrators wanted us to know it was them" said the man, his voice maintaining an unwavering matter-of-fact tone, despite the morose subject matter.
"Wizards did this?"
"Indeed. This is the ninth attack the magical world has perpetrated against our people in the last three months. They are becoming more frequent"
"Why on earth are wizards attacking us?" Harry asked, perhaps a little too loudly
"That's what you are going to find out, Agent Potter" said the man.
"Am I on reconnaissance Sir?" Harry asked, fearing he would have to spend another two months sat on benches subtly watching hot spots and noting down certain people's activities. God, Harry hated doing re-con.
"Not exactly. Do you remember when I hired you twelve years ago Potter? I inquired as to whether you would be cooperative if asked to return to the wizarding world for the sake of the agency, and you agreed. I trust you are a man of your word?"
"You want me to go into the field?"
"You are one of our most experienced and decorated field operatives Potter. Why the sudden apprehension?"
"I was seventeen when I left the magical world, Sir. I haven't stepped foot in it for twelve years"
"You were also very influential in that world, am I not correct?"
"Well, in a sense Sir, yes. My name did carry some weight"
"Good, then this influence can be used in your effort to shed some light onto who exactly is responsible for these acts of terror"
"Am I merely gathering intel, Sir?" Harry asked, knowing the answer already but seeking confirmation nonetheless
"No. You know what you have to do when you discover the perpetrators Potter. We need to ensure that the acts of terror against the non-magical people of Britain will not go unpunished. And do it quietly, we have managed to keep the existence of the magical world a secret for this long, I don't want you to cock it up by blowing up part of The Tower of London again" said the man.
"Understood Sir"
"Very good Agent Potter. This is a top priority assignment, I expect you in the field within twenty four hours. Now go and see Marlowe, he has been informed of your assignment and will have your equipment ready"
Nodding curtly, Harry stood up and walked to the door. Just before he reached for the handle, he heard the man speak
"Oh, and Potter - should you so happen to encounter any old acquaintances, do remember where you're loyalties lie"
"Of course, Sir" Harry said, and he meant it. He had made a career out of killing those who needed to be killed, and he would make no exceptions for anyone with whom he used to share a life.
Just outside the man's office, a woman was waiting for Harry.
"Good Morning Melissa, I take it you have my file"
"Of course Harry" she said, holding it out in front of her. Just as Harry went to grab it, she pulled it back. "I hope you don't mind that I had a look inside it" she said as a mischievous smile played at her lips
"I would be surprised if you didn't" said Harry, sporting a similar smile which belied amusement as he snatched the file out of her hands.
"So you're going into the magical world, huh? I've always wanted to see you holding that wand of yours"
"I don't think this job is going to take long, so we'll see if we can't arrange that for when I get back" said Harry with a grin. As he walked away, he heard Melissa mutter "I'm counting on it"
Harry rounded the corner and started down the stairs towards the quartermaster's workshop. When he opened the file, he found it to be mostly redundant. There were fact files on most major locations in wizarding Britain; Gringotts, The Ministry, Hogwarts etc. Most of the information was comprised of things that he already knew, but there was one shock, and it was a big one. Flipping to the piece of paper marked GOVERNMENT, Harry was stopped dead in his tracks. Sat at the top of the page were the words MINISTER OF MAGIC: HERMIONE GRANGER - AGE TWENTY NINE, accompanied by a picture of Hermione smiling and waving, with Ron at her side doing the same. Seeing their faces for the first time in twelve years conjured an unwelcome pang of nostalgia and affection, which Harry quickly banished. Twelve years in this profession and Harry had gotten really good at suppressing unwelcome emotions. Shaking his head clear of the thoughts of friends long forgotten, Harry continued down the steps on his way to get his new gear.
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Harry arrived at a shabby metal door with a worn metal plaque which read MICHAEL MARLOWE - QUARTERMASTER. The door groaned when Harry pushed it open, and he stepped through in to the chaotic hell hole that was Michael's workshop. From between two shelves covered in a strange mix of toys and semi-automatic weapons, a small man popped out, wearing a white lab coat covered in streaks of oil.
"Good to see you mike Mike"
"Harry, you're back from Argentina!"
"Not for long, the boss has got me straight back in the field"
"So I've heard. I've got you some new toys, some of my best work" Mike said, before disappearing back between the shelves as quickly as he'd come. A few moments later he returned, holding a handgun, a wand, and a pair of sunglasses. "This was my first time making gear for an agent going into the magical world, so I really got to get creative" announced Mike, beaming with pride.
"A gun, a wand and some sunglasses hardly strikes me as a momentous achievement Mike"
"Ah, there's that classic Potter stupidity I've missed so much while you were away" quipped Mike, only to be met with a scowl from Harry. "These aren't just bog-standard items Harry my friend. For starters, we have this gun. Walther PPK, 7.65 mm, same as your old one in every way, except this one is charmed"
"What, by magic?"
"No, by my endearing personality. Of course by magic"
"Mike, why is it that every time you open your mouth I want to hit you?" Harry wondered out loud.
"Must be my aforementioned endearing personality" he said with a smirk, "and don't ask how I managed to get these charmed, you really don't want to know"
Harry definitely agreed with that.
"anyway, back to your new gun. It's charmed to fire infinitely"
"Wait, what? I have infinite ammo?" Harry asked, wondering if this had suddenly become the greatest day of his life.
"I knew you'd be delighted my trigger-happy, sociopathic friend" Mike beamed. "Moving on to your sunglasses, these have also been charmed in order to detect ambient magic, meaning you will be able to spot any traps, tricks or hidden foes"
As harry took the sunglasses and stuck them inside the jacket, he thought they could be the most useful tool he's ever had. Not as much fun as the infinitely loaded gun, but probably more useful.
"And finally… your wand" said Mike, laying out nine-inches of holly on the table in front of Harry.
"Mike, this looks exactly like my old wand, how did you-"
"I stole it from your apartment"
"For fuck sake Mike"
"Also, I ate all your cereal. Breaking into an MI6 secured apartment builds up one hell of an appetite"
Harry sighed, buried his head in his hands and wondered how on earth he was ever supposed to sleep in his own bed again knowing this lunatic was capable of breaking in. Tucking his wand into his trouser beside his holstered pistol, Harry turned and made his way out of MI6 headquarters and into the streets of London. He had a job to do. Investigate. Infiltrate. Terminate. And Harry Potter always got the job done.