/*So here's chapter two of Lord of Harlem. As promised, a large time-skip, and as not promised, a quick James Bond crossover. Note that at this point, Harry's thirteen and would be about to start Hogwarts. He'll be heading to Hogwarts in what would be his fourth year, when he's sixteen. So here's chapter one of HP:LoH.
*/

"Yo, Lil B, time to get up!"

Cream Corn's shout rang through the house. I shot out of bed, excited. My dad was finally taking me with him on a CIA mission, which he'd promised to do ever since I turned thirteen. Ever since my birthday last month, I'd been on edge, waiting for the next mission to come in.

He finally had gotten a mission, and the two of us were heading to the Caribbean, to an island called San Monique. The dictator, a man named Dr. Kananga, was the alter ego of the Harlem drug lord named Mr. Big. Using his position as dictator of an island that was ideal for poppy growth, he planned to bring tons of heroin to Harlem and drive rival drug lords out of business.

Cream Corn was also going with us, to help subdue Kananga's right-hand man, a voodoo practitioner named Baron Samedi.

As the son of a kung fu master and the pseudo-nephew of a surprisingly competent wizard, I was going along to assist both of them in whatever manner they needed. Black Dynamite had trained me since I was five in the arts of kung fu and weapons, while Cream Corn started my training in magic two years later. He taught me charms, transfiguaration, potions, warding, the animagus transformation, and offensive and defensive magic.

Pushing aside thoughts of my training and musings about the future, I get out of bed and hop in the shower. After I finish drying myself off, I throw on a pair of baggy shorts and a loose tank top. I look into the mirror and, as always, think about my appearance.

I'm told my height is well above average for my age group, and my slim but muscular frame is also unusual, but expected from my years of kung fu. My black curly hair is non-remarkable for a black boy, but my emerald eyes are quite unusual. My dad tells me they're my mother's eyes, but he hasn't told me much more about her.

I know that she's a Brit, that she died shortly after my first birthday, and that I have a half-brother who's famous in Britain, but that's all I really know about her.

I shake my head, and head down to breakfast. Cream Corn is standing at the stove, smush-frying his sliced baloney fried into a dome.

"You ready for this B?" he asks me.

"Hell yeah, CC! You look just as ready to go as I am though."

And it's true. Cream Corn looks like he's practically bouncing in his seat. I know he's been working for the US government taking down Dark Wizards as a Hit-Wizard, but he looks excited to be taking on the bigger challenge of subduing a voodoo lord.

After we finish breakfast, we each head to our rooms to make sure our luggage is ready. Opening my drawers, I make sure I didn't leave anything behind. Unlike my father and Cream Corn, who still wear platform shoes and zoot suits, I prefer baggy athletic shorts and loose t-shirts and jerseys. Seeing everything is packed, I strap on my wands.

My primary wand (blood wood and nundu heartstring) goes into the CIA-issue wand holster Cream Corn bought for my tenth birthday. Dragon-skin, invisible, and able to shoot out the wand with the flick of a wrist, it's perfect for the undercover CIA operative in a tight spot. Knowing my penchant for getting into trouble, he thought it would be a good thing for me to have.

My secondary wand (Yggdrisil and black mamba fang) goes into the invisible leather and demiguise hair holster on my ankle, and my Hit-Wizard's burner wand goes into a holster built into my Jordans. Made specifically by the United States government as an untraceable alternative for deep-cover operatives, it doesn't have nearly as good a connection as either of my two custom wands, but it's good enough to use in an emergency for a quick escape.

I think back fondly on my two custom wands and the first time I held them.

FLASHBACK

A week after Cream Corn told me about magic and that I was a wizard, he took me to Jazz Alley, the supplier of magical supplies to the greater New York area. He led me past Nike Broom Company and American Phoenix Outfitters and into Wand Locker.

When we walked in, the bell over the door rang, and a peppy blonde named Tiffany walked out of the back and turned to me.

She told me, "I'll walk you through what needs to be done. Hold your hand over these woods as you walk by, and tell me which one feels warm to you. Do the same for these cores over here. If you have more than one wood or more than one core, take them all, that just means that you have more than one possible wand."

Following her instructions, I picked out a reddish wood, a pale wood, a thick snake fang, and a black leathery core in short order. Taking them to Tiffany, she gave them a quick glance.

"Excellent," she said. "Blood wood and nundu heartstring, and Yggdrisil and black mamba fang, these should both make powerful wands. The blood wood comes from the land of a relatively young American vampire named Blacula, and Yggdrisil wood is obviously from the Tree of Life. That particular nundu heartstring came from the Plains Killer, the nundu that ranged free over the African savannah and killed a few hundred wizards before being killed. The black mamba is one of the deadliest snakes in the world."

While she was talking, she was waving her hands in intricate patterns over the woods and cores, and by the time she finished talking, my wands were ready.

"Here you go! The blood wood and nundu should make for an exceptionally powerful wand, capable of doing great feats, while the Yggdrisil and black mamba should make for a well-rounded wand capable of somehow suppressing its own magical signature. I've never seen this before, but then again, I've never seen this combination before."

Cream Corn paid for my wand, and we quickly left the store. He leaned down and spoke into my ear.

"I know you're taking after your father and looking to join the CIA once you're 18, the Yggdrisil and black mamba wand would be good for deep-cover missions or assassinations. But that's years down the road, it's time to start your training."

END FLASHBACK

Double-checking my wands are secured, I switch out my tank top for a Laurence Taylor jersey, I add a pair of shoulder holsters for the Colt 1911's my dad gave me for passing my master marksmanship class at the CIA last year. In a flurry of checking clips and safeties, I add a sheath of throwing knives to my waist and another into the sole of my other Jordan sneaker.

Now that all my favorite weapons were on me and realizing that my dad would provide any other weapons I'd need during the mission, I grab my luggage and meet Cream Corn downstairs. We quickly head out to his car and head to the airport, where we'll meet my father and head to San Monique. We were on our way!

/* So there it is, first chapter of Lord of Harlem. BD, CC, and Harry are off and running to San Monique! Next chapter continues the James Bond story arc, so that's a thing. I might toss in some X-Men crossover or something. We'll see. If you have some ideas, let me know. Hit that review button down there, drop me a line.
*/