Harry quickly ducked beside the wall, casting out a few 'expelliarmus' in an attempt to disarm his attacker. He knew that signing up for a new agency would be dicey at best, but years had gone by since his time at the ministry and boredom was making him restless.

It had also been years since he'd last seen the captivating man in the bar. Harry had texted him— like any reasonable man would— they'd gone out on a few dates and then Jack was just… gone. Poof. Into thin air. Harry didn't take it too personally; Hermione had gotten tired of his whining within 3 days ("Harry, I didn't even complain this much when I gave birth"— That was an argument that would always shut him up). Her and Ron's kids were almost old enough for their own families, and yet Harry refused to age a day. He still didn't look any older than 20. This brought about some resentment from past and current friends, but there was really nothing to be done about this.

Harry had encountered a few relationships since, but none of them had really taken off. Something about them just felt… wrong. Incomplete. And so he continued on, swearing off of relationships for a little bit and instead signing on to this agency. He'd signed on under another name, one Thomas Green, in an attempt to separate himself from the wizarding world and everyone that would get star struck upon hearing his name.

And so he became Thomas Green— the very same Thomas Green engaged in battle in Cardiff of all places. He affixed a permanent glamor to the ring on his finger, turning his messy dark brown hair a sleek and shiny light brown, his deep green eyes shifting to a brilliant blue. Hiding his scar was more difficult, so he instead shifted it to the underside of his jaw, which he had made a tad broader. He would fit in better with the masses, rather than standing out as he had done before.

...

Harry had entered this agency as a private and slowly worked his way up the ranks. He merely presented himself as an eager body, making sure that he didn't showcase the lethality of his magic. Only its usefulness. He felt it was safer this way— for him and his enemies. Harry was NOT in the business of killing after all. Now maiming on the other hand…

His mission for today was supposed to be simple: infiltrate and extract. However, it was proving to be far more difficult, as there was an actual sentient and intelligent enemy for him to detain; a species with technology far greater than mankind. That said, this mission was still pretty low stakes— his enemy lacked basic conversational skills with one another and couldn't keep a firm grasp on his location.

Harry's eyes glanced down the hall, having long since heard his enemy grow silent. There stood a tall figure at the end of the hall, wearing a sharp looking grey coat and a striking outfit to match. Harry stowed his wand and raised his gun, affixing his sight enhancing glasses back on his face, and rounding the corner.

"Please state your name and business!"

There was a pause before the man replied, slowly turning around as if he knew there was a gun pointed to the back of his head, his own gun clattering to the floor. Harry could barely hold back a gasp as he took in just who he was looking at.

"My name is Captain Jack Harkness. I am a member of tor—"

Harry vaguely remembers feeling the butt of a gun glancing off of the back of his head before letting himself drop to his knees, feigning loss of consciousness. Internally, he was fuming.