Disclaimer: Of course I do not own neither Harry Potter, nor NCIS. But a person can always dream, right?

A/N: Ok guys, I know you probably want to kill me right now, but I don't see that happening anytime soon. I won't waste time explaining my reasons, cause you probably just want to read the next chapter – I'm very sorry for the delay, though.

CHAPTER 7 – A NEUTRAL GROUND

Wednesday came pretty fast with Gibbs and his team finishing up Petty Officer Landon's case and Harry busy getting acquainted with all the other agents. The day before Conrad had sent him a note with coordinates, and frankly Harry couldn't have been more curious as to what all these 'special training' meetings entailed. He didn't know whether he should wear wizarding robes or simply muggle clothes, so he opted for the second choice. He put on a simple green t-shirt and black cargo pants, put his hair back in a ponytail and strapped a dagger to his ankle to be on the safe side. Ever since the war has ended he was quite proficient with wandless magic, but one could never be too careful. Harry smiled feeling his magic hum in anticipation. It has been a long time since he had a serious workout. With one last glance at his apartment he apparated away.

-ooo000ooo—

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" Abby caught up with him on his way to the elevator. "What should I get him?"

"Huh?"

"Harry's house-warming party on Friday? It's a custom to bring a gift, Gibbs. And I don't know what to get him. Well, I mean I do know – I have plenty of ideas, but I'm not sure they would be welcomed so early in our relationship." She took a gulp of air. "I don't mean the relationship kind of a relationship, but the normal one. You know – friends, colleagues."

"Abby." Gibbs was getting frustrated. Sure, the way Abby talked was cute, but frustrating nonetheless.

"Anyway, I thought about handcuffs, what do you think about handcuffs, Gibbs? Obviously, not the police type, but the furry type. Green, red maybe. Do you think he'd like that? Or maybe a collar. He does seem the type and Tony could be totally turned on."

"Abby," He said a bit more forcefully this time. "I really do not want to hear words 'Tony' and 'turned on' in the same sentence again. As well as to think about my nephew's sex life."

"Prude." She murmured softly but he heard it anyway.

"Oh, Abby," He sighed and kissed her cheek. " No one who spends so much time with you can stay a prude for long." He turned around, planning on fetching himself another coffee.

"So not true!" He heard from behind. "Sister Greta and sister Lucilla still blush when I mention guys in front of them."

"And what kind of guys do you mention, Abby?"

"Hm." She lowered her head for a second, then lifted it suddenly. "You didn't tell me what you think about the handcuffs!" She shouted after his retreating back.

-ooo000ooo—

The place in which he found himself was not exactly what he had imagined. For starters it was not a building but an open space – a big one, football pitch kind of field. There were trees surrounding the area, as to limit the danger of a spell going astray. It was perfect for this kind of gathering – Harry thought sadly – it was like the last battle all over again. Sure, the trees were nothing like the ones in the forbidden forest, and the breeze from the lake was painfully absent, but still, it brought back memories.

Conrad seemed to understand, cause he was by his side in a flash, patting his shoulder soothingly.

"Don't think about it now, Harry," He looked at him seriously. "It's over."

"You're right, Conrad, thanks. So who do we have here?" He quickly scanned the faces of those present, stopping at the familiar smirk.

"You do know Tony, of course?" He asked.

"Yeah, I've had the pleasure." Harry said, his voice teasingly official. He winked at his hopefully soon-to-be lover and concentrated on the group of people he was being introduced to.

"This is Marisa Carter, FBI…" Conrad pointed towards the petite blonde who smiled encouragingly. "Brad Wilson…"

But Harry's attention drifted outside the circle, towards the lone tree on the left side of the field and the man leaning against it. He was muscular and graceful with the air of confidence around him. Definitely not Harry's type – bald and unshaven – but still there was something about him, something, which Harry couldn't quite put a finger on. He emanated this animal magnetism paradoxically saying 'wild, dangerous, do not approach' and Harry was certainly affected by it.

Conrad noticed his stare and sighed. He turned around towards Harry as if to cut the invisible thread between Harry and the mysterious man.

Harry motioned his head towards the man and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"CIA," Conrad sighed again. "Goes by the name Trent Kort, but it's only an alias." He narrowed his eyes. "He doesn't socialize much and is by far the most talented wizard here," Conrad's voice was suddenly cold and serious, similar to his great grandfather's when Harry met Nicholas Flamel for the first and last time. "But he's a cold-hearted son of a bitch, and Harry, be really, really careful around him."

"I'm always careful, Conrad."

-ooo000ooo—

Tony clenched his fists trying his hardest not to be jealous. However the look that Harry was giving Kort was very disturbing. For a while Kort seemed to be oblivious but then he glanced back and now they were engaged in something that could only be described as a staring contest. Tony's investigative skills kicked in involuntarily and now he was processing the data, analyzing and gauging the threat.

There was no malice in their stares and that worried Tony more than anything. Kort hated everyone, didn't he? And what was Harry doing, drawing his attention like that?

-ooo000ooo—

Harry cautiously approached Kort, having outmaneuvered Conrad and his overprotective streak. He could see the smirk on this handsome face from far away, but he wasn't bothered by it in the least. In fact, quite the opposite. He slowed his movements, making sure they were smooth and graceful. The tiger tattoo slipped out from underneath his sleeve and onto his forearm, roaring silently. Kort chuckled at that and instead of a normal handshake stroked the tiger's head lightly. Feeling these rough hands on his skin, Harry felt himself getting goosebumps all over. Kort chuckled again. What the hell was Kort doing? More importantly, how was he doing that? And why was Harry reacting? He glanced at the smirk plastered on the agent's face and suddenly he knew there was nothing to be afraid of. Trent Kort was just a fucking tease.

"Harry Potter." He introduced himself and was surprised to see a spark of recognition in these blue eyes. He noticed early on that American wizards tended to stay away from British affairs.

"Trent Kort." And here was the answer to Harry's unasked question – the faintest trace of British accent in Kort's voice. "So to what do we owe an honour?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. The guy definitely knew how to push the right buttons. Or, rather, the wrong ones.

"Needed a change of scenery." Harry explained then smiled. Kort was going to comment on that, but Conrad whistled and beckoned them over.

"Wanna be my training partner?" There was this tone again – seductive and drawling. "My ego could definitely use kicking your ass."

"I have a feeling," Harry smirked at him. "That your ego will be the only thing hurt today."

-ooo000ooo—

Tony of course knew that Harry is the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, et cetera, et cetera, but he never suspected how good he really was. He watched him duel Kort and could only stare open-mouthed at some things he did. Wandless, wordless spells were flying back and forth, and soon they were being watched by all of the present. In the end it was Kort, who found himself on his knees, surrounded by six snakes, obeying every single word Harry had hissed.

"That was amazing, guys." Conrad applauded, and they all went back to their duels.

-ooo000ooo—

Tony wished to congratulate Harry on his spectacular victory, but the opportunity did not present itself until Friday, during the preparations for the party.

Being a wizard, he was asked to come early and perhaps help clarify some matters to Harry's English friends.

Once again, he found himself greeted by a freshly showered Harry, buttoning his shirt. He glanced at the tattoo, sleeping soundly on his chest and swallowed hard.

"That was a good display on Wednesday," He said as he presented Harry with a bottle of wine. "Kort is definitely re-evaluating his strategies."

"Thanks." Harry smiled and did the only thing he could think of for the last couple of days. He grabbed Tony by his shirt and sealed their lips together. The other agent melted into the kiss, tongue pushing past his lips in an effort to find his. Harry tasted like coffee and oranges and Tony immediately wondered whether there were any other flavours to uncover. He licked Harry's bottom lip and bit it lightly, merely the grazing of teeth on his sensitive flesh.

"We should stop, my friends will be here any minute now." Harry whispered, his voice hoarse and full of desire. He brushed Tony's warm lips with his own once again.

"Oh, don't stop on our account," A teasing voice came from the doorway and Harry inwardly whined. "Had we known we were to enjoy such a show, we would bring popcorn."

"Remus." Harry groaned and disentangled himself from Tony's body.

"Pup," Remus looked at him reprimandingly but with a hint of amusement. "Didn't you know that you should never snog a guy before introducing him to your parents?"

Tony coughed suddenly and muttered something under his breath.

"But, Remus, you're my godfather," Harry explained carefully as if speaking to a child. "If you think of yourself as my mother, then Severus would have to be my father and it would be just plain wrong."

A calm cough came from the doorway.

"Severus!" Harry shouted and threw himself in the Potion Master's arms.

Okay, folks, that's it. Tell me what you think?