A/N: Yes, I know I said this would be up ages ago, but ... I lied. But, this time I actually have a good excuse!

Reviewers: Well, let's hear it!

You see, in order to fully prepare to write this story, I immersed myself in as many spy and thriller novels as I could find and I just got so wrapped up in Dan Brown's books (which I'm sure as any one who has read them knows) that I didn't write anything. Yeah ...

Harry: - appears – That's your excuse?!?

Well, yeah. Uhuh.

Harry: That's pathetic! You had better get writing, missy! – eyes reviewers – And you better all leave good reviews ... or else.

Aye, aye, captain! You all heard the man! Let's go a-fanfictioning!

CH7: The World Is On Fire

"The world is on fire

It's more than I can handle.

Tap into the water,

Try to bring my share."

"First things first, Harry, is that you have to disappear," Kyle said pleasantly, sliding into a seat across from him.

Harry looked up sharply. "What?"

"No, no, not like that. Relax. We can't have the Boy Who Lived vanishing off the face of the earth, after all, especially during the trials we are facing. I merely meant that no one can know exactly who you are and what you do. Undercover agents can not afford to have their identities compromised. While you are here, you will work on many different things in many different fields, but the only person who should know of all of them is you. And maybe Viper."

"Who's Viper?"

"He's the director of the agency right now. It's his job to know everything and he does it well."

Harry felt a shiver go up his spine, now feeling as though he was being watched, and he nodded solemnly.

"As I was saying," Kyle continued. "It is imperative that your real name is not discovered and that feat has become increasingly difficult in the past few years ... "

"Why?"

"Unfortunately, we have a spy in our midst. We are not sure who he is, but he has revealed the names of many of out prominent members in very public ways ... If he finds out that you work for us, you can kiss your anonymity good-bye."

"A spy who spies on spies? He must be very good."

Kyle nodded shortly, then moved on. "When you work for the agency, you are assigned a number and a code name to be referred to as. Remember this number, for it is who you are: 317796. Your code name will be given to you soon."

"Who picks it?"

"I do. It's tradition for the mentor to pick his student's name."

"What did your mentor chose for you?"

Kyle looked slightly uncomfortable. "Sawdust."

Harry burst out laughing, clutching his sides. "Sawdust?!?"

"Yes, but most call me dusty for short." Harry continued chuckling and Kyle scowled. "Knock it off. You don't understand, on my first day here, I ... got a little over-excited with my Disarming spell and blew up an end table."

Harry bit his lips and managed to choke out, "Beware of the great and powerful Sawdust!" before dissolving again.

Kyle snorted. "Sarcasm can be a dangerous weapon, you know. You would do well to hone it."

Slowly, the giggles died down and Harry gave him a cheeky grin. "Death by words or by the sword."

"I think that will do quite nicely," Kyle responded, a smile spreading across his face.

"For what?"

"Let's move along. I know you are studying to be a Metamorphmagus, but do you know how to change your appearance yet?"

Harry shook his head, confused by the sudden change of subject. "I've only managed to lengthen my hair so far."

"Very well then." He took out his wand and cast a few charms on the teen's face. Harry glanced into a mirror to see brown hair, hazel eyes, and an unmarred forehead.

"Well," Kyle rubbed his hands together. "I've got a lot to show you, so come along," he turned to the door and looked back over his shoulder. "... Dagger."

"Dagger?"

"Whose wit is as sharp as steel." Kyle winked. "Hopefully you will grow into it. Follow me."

"We've just got one last step before you are officially inducted into the agency," Kyle explained, walking down the long hallways of the base. The passageways were fairly deserted; they only passed a handful of other spies who were too involved in their own work to spare a glance at the pair.

"And what's that?" Harry struggled to match his mentor's strong strides.

"You have to be tested of course." The color drained from Harry's face?"

"Tested for what?"

"To see if you are suitable to be a member of the WIA." Kyle stopped at a door on the right hand side of the hall and pushed Harry in. "Good luck."

Chuckling, the man entered the door next to it. Two people were sitting inside, facing a large one-way window. A woman with blond hair turned to him.

"What sorry excuse for a recruit did you get this time, Thompson?"

"What's wrong with my agents, Pixie?"

"Nothing. It's just ... most of them couldn't find their own nose in the dark."

"Oh, I suppose you have amazingly intellectual and athletic recruits yourselves?" Kyle replied sarcastically.

"I don't want to brag, but mine is top of his class at Fleetwood."

"And mine is Head Girl of Beuxbatons," the man sitting next to her, who was called Bolt, spoke for the first time.

"Then let's watch the testing."

Through the window, the three spies watched as their recruits sat in a white room, each one looking terribly nervous. A tall, dark-skinned man paced in front of them, shooting off questions.

"What is a Gantarin Potion, number one?" he barked.

"I - I don't know?" answered a light haired boy, gripping his seat. "Sir," he added at the man's look. Bolt looked downward.

"And number two?" The man narrowed his eyes at a small, petite girl sitting next in line.

"Me neither, sir."

Pixie sat up in her seat. "What kind of a question is that? Who would actually know the answer to that?" She glared at the man, who seem to sense her gaze and shook his head slightly at the glass. "Me and Slips are going to have a long talk about this."

"Do you have an answer for us number three?" The mean, Slips apparently, stared at Harry.

"It ... " He licked his lips nervously. "It's a restorative potion that was used mostly in the Middle Ages during battles, sir. When the warriors would get tired, they would give them a few drops and they could stay up another 48 hours."

Slips raised an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

"It was outlawed in ... 1942, I think, and classified as a Dark Potion."

"Why was that?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, the war against Grindelwald was going on then. The longer the fighters could stay up, the more bloodshed there was."

"Very good." A soft ringing came from Slips pocket. "Excuse me." He stood over by the wall, taking a small gray object out of his pocket.

"Looks like I hit the Natural on the nose," Kyle said proudly and Pixie gave him a withering glance.

"Isn't the saying 'hit the nail on the nose?'"

"That's not what I meant."

"Er - sir?" Harry asked when Slips was done talking. "Isn't that Muggle Technology?" The rectangle in his hands looked strangely like a beeper.

"It is. We find it to be more effective than most magical ways of communication while out in the field. Of course, it has a few magical adaptations ... Can you think of any?"

"Er ... You'd have to make it so that the signals wouldn't be scrambled in the midst of so much magic."

"How would we do that?"

"A simple strengthening charm mixed with a summoning charm should direct the signal straight to the communicator itself, but ..."

"But?" Slips prompted when Harry was silent for a few moments.

"You'd need a pure base to stabilize it. Like holy water or phoenix tears. But you couldn't have it moving around - it would make the reception fuzzy. So you'd have to crystallize it first."

"Any other problems?"

"You'd have to put a lot of secrecy charms on it to stop people from intercepting transmissions.

"Congratulations, number three. You've passed this part of the test."

"Game, set, and match." Kyle smiled proudly at Harry.