Welcome back! We hope you enjoy this chapter. We of course don't own HP or Marvel. They belong to Rowling and Marvel respectively. This is a collaborative work between myself and Venerance. We also thank the help of Nauze and Philip Tomarys. There are a few time jumps in this chapter so we can get to the good stuff. I've included time stamps so that you know when everything is happening. Make sure to read the A/N at the end of this chapter.

This chapter is dedicated to my great-uncle Pablo, who just recently passed away after complications from surgery on 04/21/2020.

Te amo tio. Gracias por inspirarme a escribir con mi corazón. Que las estrellas iluminen para siempre tu camino. ¡Buena caza!

Enjoy and R&R!

"Play it again."

The video on the large screen rewound back to the darting figure cloaked in the murk of night. His silhouette was softly illuminated by the flashes of light from the firing of his weapon as he mounted himself behind some sort of cover. But it was not just the combustion from his weapon's barrel that lit up the night sky.

Scratching the small trimmed bush that dressed his chin, the man narrowed his eyes as the image on the screen zoomed closer on the lens of the masked figure's goggles. A hint of gleaming white reflected in the optics before the video stuttered and snapped to black.

It should have been nothing. Many would say he was imagining things. That he was finally going insane. Seeing impossibilities or illusions where there was none. He would be a laughingstock if he brought it up to anyone else.

Typing into the keyboard, the video began to rewind until the flash of a bullet firing illuminated the scene. Halting the video in its tracks, the man allowed himself to observe the tense individual in the recording. His vision drifting across the screen, he felt his lips twitch slightly downward as he focused on the blurry insignia on the man's arm.

"Enhance."

26th November, 2008

Harry flipped through the briefing as he shifted into a more comfortable position. The assignment was nothing too serious. Three high-value targets settled in a small encampment near Gulmira. There was very little intel about the area. Only satellite images and video surveillance from drones gave Harry an inkling of where he would be conducting his operation.

While these sort of operations were meant for a team to handle, especially HALO operatives, the mission was what one would call as 'off the record'. Something coordinated by a higher-up that was not meant to draw attention. Which found Harry being drafted into. Whether it was his impeccable service record or minimal presence within the SAS, his handler found him worthy of this clandestine mission.

A loud beep sounded over the plane's intercom, resulting in muffled grumbling and yawns as everyone in the troop bay unstrapped themselves from their seats to stand up and stretch. Orders came from an officer pacing up and down the row of soldiers lining up at the exit. Following the man's commands, Harry gave a once-over on the parachute attached to the man in front of him. Patting twice on the man's shoulder to signal that his chute was good, Harry braced himself on the rope swinging lazily from the plane's interior hull.

A loud mechanical screech resonated through the troop bay as the rear door of the aircraft began to open. Two pats on the shoulder alerted Harry to his own good chute. Staring at the signal light at the rear of the aircraft, the occupants shuffled nervously as they waited.

And kept waiting.

"Ding"

The red signal light turned green. Immediately, the occupants started to trudge out the back of the plane. He could barely hear himself breathe as the sound of the wind blasting by hundreds of miles per minute filled his ears. When Harry reached the end of the ramp, he leapt off with a whoop.

It never got old, being able to soar weightlessly through the air as he maneuvered around with little to no resistance. Except, this time, he didn't have a broomstick between his legs. Triple the danger, triple the excitement, triple the freedom. From the corner of his eye, he could see the main group drifting farther and farther away in the night sky. It was clear that no one saw him branch off. He was nothing more than a mere speck in the endless abyss of black.

A laugh escaped Harry's lips as he streaked across the midnight sky. Nothing in the world, nothing magical, nothing muggle, could replicate this feeling of such sensational joy he felt at this very moment. He could feel his suit rippling across his body as he soared downwards hundreds of feet per second. Checking the gauge on his wrist, Harry let out another whoop as he veered off into the distance.

The smog was thick over the small encampment near Gulmira.

That was only what Harry had been able to see before he landed on the sandy earth a few hours ago. Pulling a pair of binoculars out of a satchel by his hip, Harry laid down carefully on the rocky cliffside. Inch by inch, Harry slowly crept to the ledge, making sure to minimize his profile and sound.

"What do we have here?" Harry murmured quietly to himself as he zoomed the binocular lenses closer to the source of smoke wafting into the air.

Drifting past the smoky ruins of a semi-burnt town, Harry found himself focusing on a line of jeeps and trucks bumping up and down on a rocky path near the mountains. It didn't take a genius to understand that the people in the line of vehicles ahead were the ones responsible for the devastation in the town. Not with the several technicals he spotted protecting what appeared to be looted cargo.

The briefing mentioned something like this. That the members he was sent to assassinate belonged to a more underground group of individuals. Not as large as terrorist groups such asAl Qaeda but far more capable and covert, raiding and pillaging local villages and towns for supplies while they worked on grander schemes. Several corrupt government officials had been suspected of working with this group, known as the Ten Rings, but evidence had been hard to dig up.

Disapparating from his position, Harry reappeared further up the mountain road that the congregation of vehicles seemed to be following. Intel stated that his targets were in the area and the line of ignorant terrorists were, hopefully, going to lead him right towards them. Casting a quick disillusionment charm, Harry prowled by the boulders near the road as the first sign of headlights began appearing around the corner.

The rat-at-tat of a poor overworked engine first graced Harry's ears as a white pickup truck turnt around the corner before chugging up the slightly inclined road. Through the windshield, Harry could spot two masked individuals arguing and gesturing nonsensically about something. Harry noted the AK-47 resting in between the passenger's legs before letting his gaze move over to the following vehicle. A troop transport.

As the vehicles began to pass, Harry felt his ears perk at the slight sound of muffled sniffling over the mechanical hums. Twisting his head around, Harry could feel his eyes begin to widen as the canvas-covered troop transport passed by. Through the opening in the back, he could see one of the terrorists threatening a child with the barrel of his gun.

Oh, he found his first additional target, all right.

A small crunch sounded beneath Harry's feet as he crept along the pebble pathway. Tents filled with stockpiles of weapons rested ahead, cleverly hidden behind jutting rocks and beige canvases. Temporary and rugged but effective - it easily explained why British intel was having a difficult time locating these encampments from an aerial and orbital view.

Drawing his wand from his makeshift holster, Harry slowly crept up the path to the half-asleep guard slumping in his chair. Double-checking to make sure his disillusionment charm was up, Harry stepped away from the shadows and rested his wand tip against the exhausted man.

"Avada Kedavra"

A flash of green light illuminated the dusty road before fading away. Leaving behind an empty corpse resting peacefully on the cool metal chair. Despite the disgust Harry felt after using the curse, he was forced to concede the practicality of such magic in his current occupation.

Harry quickly darted behind several crates sitting haphazardly behind a wall of sandbags as suddenly lit floodlights began to scour the area. Peeking out from between the cracks of the boxes, Harry watched as a line of trucks began filtering into the open area of the encampment.

It was the convoy.

Shrieks and cries from the passengers inside of the troop transport echoed throughout the mountainside as they were forced out of the vehicle at gunpoint. Loud smacks of rifle butts against flesh as the men were separated from the women, elicited a small growl deep within Harry's throat. The unfortunate truth was that innocent people were always dragged into the harsh realities and unending conflicts of any war. It was inevitable.

Luckily for these victims of their circumstances, Harry would be here to help, this time.

From one of the leading trucks, he spotted two of his targets exiting the line of vehicles as they walked deeper into the camp. Casting a quick glance at the scared civilians, Harry closed his eyes before following his targets.

'Later' Harry told himself as he watched his mission enter a large tent at the far side of the camp. 'I will come back for them later.'

As a patrol strolled past, Harry hurried across the dirt road and knelt besides the thin canvas wall of the large tent. Muffled voices filtered through the cloth into Harry's ears as he quickly casted Homenum Revelio. The silhouettes of several people shone through the tent wall, causing Harry to silently curse.

If it had been just the two targets, it wouldn't have been too much of a hassle to handle. But six, that was bound to muck things up. Even if he silenced the entire tent, the flares from surprised, especially silent, gunfire would draw too much attention. He couldn't afford to wait for the group to disperse. Each of his targets were a timed priority. And he had no idea where the third was.

He would have to buy more time. If he casted a silencing charm over the tent, it would buy him enough time to extract the information he needed from at least one of his targets before a patrol was sent to investigate.

Waving his wand, a slight sparking sheen covered the tent. Skulking around to the entrance, Harry readied his silenced pistol in one hand and wand in the other. With a mental countdown from three, Harry shook off his nerves and burst into the tent.

Everything seemed to slide into slow-motion as Harry quickly identified his two targets lounging in the back, talking to a single guard while three others stood attentively at the sides. With Harry's sudden entrance, he watched as his targets shot upright and the guards stumbled backwards, quickly identifying him as non-friendly.

Vibrations ran up Harry's arm as his finger pressed down upon the trigger while a piercing spell flowed through his wand in tandem. Blood splattered across the tent wall and ground as two of the guards fell to the floor. By the time Harry got his second shot off, incapacitating the third guard, the last guard finally managed to fire his rifle in Harry's direction in a panicked motion.

Harry could feel the whiz of the bullet pass beneath his arm before a final bullet from his gun had the guard falling into the tent wall.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, the spell slammed into one of his targets, knocking him harshly into the ground.

"Kenneth Grant," Harry growled as he hoisted his second target up by the neck before slamming him down into a table. "Where is he?"

"Stupid Englishman," the man growled before Harry lifted him up and slammed him back down again. "The men outside will know. They will come for me!"

"That is more than enough time for me," Harry replied as he aimed his wand at the man's purple face. "Legilimens!"

A swarm of memories assaulted his mind. Delving deeper and deeper, Harry quickly passed by the dredge of irrelevant memories until he arrived at something more recent. A bruised and injured man, blood soaking his ragged clothes as he was strapped down in a sturdy metal chair. The memory went by faster and faster as it sped past the hours of torture. Until finally, Harry watched as the man exited the room.

"What did you do?" The man stuttered as Harry emerged back into reality. "Witchcraft! The Devil is in you!"

Harry offered no words as he efficiently sent the man into the afterlife. Stepping away from the body, Harry froze as the sound of several clicks sounded behind him.

"Turn! Slowly!" Harry heard a voice behind him say. Carefully turning to face the new threats, Harry found himself staring at the target he stunned moments prior in front of a group of armed terrorists.

"You think you can shoot me and live?" The target hissed as he pulled open his jacket. His fist thumped against the metal plate of his body armor concealed under his heavy jacket. "You have made a grave mistake."

"I don't think it was me who did so," Harry said slowly as his eyes shifted from one terrorist to another as he whipped his wand around to cast a Bombarda. The tent entrance exploded in a shower of sparks and dirt as Harry quickly casted a shield around himself. It was official now. The mission had pretty much gone tits up.

He quickly left the tent. Sprinting across the open area as spotlights began scouring the area, Harry slid into cover behind a small cache of crates as three terrorists appeared around the corner. Loading a fresh magazine into his gun, Harry popped out of cover and fired at the wild gunmen.

Specks of blood adorned the crates as a bullet slammed into the cheek of one of the insurgents before Harry ducked behind cover yet again. Reloading his pistol, Harry kept his weapon trained at the middle aisle before sliding his wand into his dominant palm. Peeking out once more, Harry conjured a jet of flames to sprout towards the hiding terrorists.

Screams split the air as Harry made a break towards the cave in which his target's memories pointed to. Sliding through the entrance, Harry quickly picked off two of the guards who were running up one of the tunnels before dashing down a second.

Navigating through the maze of cavern tunnels proved to be mentally and physically exhausting as insurgents seemed to stream from everywhere. Two turns, he had to backtrack and find a different path due to LMG fire until finally, he arrived at the containment blocks. Keeping a watchful eye at the tunnel he had just come through, Harry carefully crept past the metal doors until his attention was drawn towards the sound of a scream resonating from a door to his left.

Harry immediately had his wand and gun out. Gently twisting the metal lock, Harry flinched as a loud metal clamp disengaged from the frame. Hearing the voices inside falter, Harry immediately kicked the door open and found himself staring at a surprised man with a blowtorch in his hand and another strapped into a chair with his head lolling.

A twitch of his finger sent a fountain of red into the cell wall.

"VIP located," Harry radioed in as he set about removing the man's bindings. "Situation got a little bit loud but targets one and two are KIA. Over."

"Copy that," he heard a female voice reply through his headset. "Cleanup crews are on their way. Please, make your way to the rendezvous for extraction."

"About time they sent someone to extract me," the man hissed in pain as he found himself hoisted to his feet. "Be more gentle next time!"

"I've heard how stuck up you agency boys can be," Harry grumbled as he began escorting the agent out of the caverns. Navigating carefully past the intersections where he had last encountered the encamped LMGs, Harry almost groaned in irritation as he felt the agent behind him stumble and collapse onto the ground.

"Get up!" Harry growled as the sound of footsteps began thundering in the corridor behind them.

"Give me a weapon!" The agent scowled as he clutched his aching chest.

"You idiot," Harry grumbled as he yanked the man forward. "We need to move, now!"

"I need a weapon!" The agent repeated. Biting back a groan, Harry handed over his pistol and two additional mags.

"Happy?" Harry snarled as he grabbed a hold of the agent's arm. Pushing past the entrance of the cave, the two found themselves stumbling into a crowd of terrorists all aiming their weapons at them.

"Down!" Harry yelled as he shoved the agent to the ground. "Fiendfyre!"

Screams erupted from the group as a massive fiery beast began taking shape in front of everyone. Waves of scorching heat blasted through the camp as coils of flame. Cutting off the stream of flames sprouting from his wand, Harry quickly dragged the astonished agent behind him as he made a quick detour through the middle of the camp.

"What was that? Where are we going?" The agent gasped disbelievingly as he stared back at the scorch marks left behind in the blackened and glassed sand.

"You agency boys don't always get the good toys," Harry misdirected as he approached the tent he last saw the frightened civilians forced into. Pushing past the flaps, Harry found himself being held at gunpoint by one of the civilians inside.

"Englishman," The civilian stammered as he pointed his gun back and forth between Harry and the agent behind him. "You did this."

"Relax," Harry attempted to coax as he attempted to take a step forward only to find himself being held at gunpoint once more. "I'm here to help."

"Help?" the man spoke in disbelief. "You come to my home, bring war to my door and have my family brought into the hands of terrorists and you tell me you want to help? If you want to help, then leave! Tell your fellow soldiers to leave this land and never come back. Then, and only then, you will be helping."

Harry's eyes floated towards the fearful gazes cast his way as the rifle in the hands of the frightened man in front of him began to rattle.

"There are empty trucks out front," Harry at last said. "I'd suggest you hurry."

Exiting the tent, Harry found himself caught in the grip of the agent besides him.

"Want to explain that?" The agent barked as he pushed Harry against one of the crates outside. "The people, the fire?"

"It's not important."

"Au contraire," the agent jeered as Harry felt the tip of his gun pushed against his stomach. "I rather think it's a potential threat to British security. The weapon you have is probably against military regulations and those people back there are probably terrorists that you were in cahoots with. All it would take is a phone call to your superiors and you would find yourself in a deep dark hole in the middle of nowhere unless you hand that thing over and explain everything."

Harry could feel his eyes narrow at the non subtle threats the cursed bureaucratic agent in front of him was emitting. The next time someone asks him to undertake a black ops mission, he would just refuse. He didn't appreciate people he rescued turning against him.

"Fine," Harry growled as he watched a smirk slide across the agent's face. "Listen carefully…"

"Obliviate."

14th December, 2008

The streets of London were quiet as Harry walked through Trafalgar Square. It was late evening and most of the tourists had returned to their hotels and hostels. Harry himself was finding it hard to sleep. The mission from a few years prior kept playing through his head. The Occlumency he learned from Auror training helped some, but he was still no master at the skill, even if his own meager skills were probably the best in the world, he mused sardonically.

The walk towards the pub where he used to work at was pretty quick and Harry was able to get out of the weather that was slowly starting to turn sour. When he entered the diner-turned-pub, he was greeted by the new hostess and she took him to a back table and allowed him to settle down before she handed him a menu.

"May I start you off with something to drink sir?" asked the woman.

"Guinness, make it quick, please," answered Harry.

"I'll be right back with your drink, sir."

As the woman left, Harry took a few minutes to look at the menu. He doubted it was any different since his employment here but it never hurt to check. After deciding what to eat, he placed his menu back down and waited for the waitress to return with his stout beer. He took in the music that was playing through the roof speakers. It was a soft Scottish jig, meant for some light dancing. Looking around, Harry saw that there was indeed a couple dancing softly to the music.

It had been eight years since he had arrived in this dimension. Six years had passed since the fall of the World Trade Center. Since then, he'd only made a few friends, namely his last employer, Adam, as well as Tsang and Chandar. He allowed his head to drift off a bit. He missed his old friends from his dimension. He was sure that Ron or Neville would be able to say something to cheer him up. Luna would probably confuse him so much with her curious outlook about the world that he'd forget his woes, at least for a while.

The waitress serving him returned with a dark beer which Harry recognized from previous trips to Adam's pub. He thanked her and ordered the steak pie and took to sipping his drink, savoring the bitter aftertaste of the drink as it slid down his throat. The music had shifted now and Harry glanced at the clock and the wall. The softest tones of a saxophone were now coming through the speakers, and Harry allowed himself to sway slightly at the music. That was one area where muggles had done much better than their magical cousins.

When Harry had finally set himself up completely, he'd found great pleasure in enjoying the music that mundanes had to provide him with. They offered much better alternatives to the Weird Sisters. He much more preferred the dulcet tones of vocalists like Celine Dion. That said, he did enjoy some of the pop culture icons of the day. Akon's music seemed to be on a constant replay in his head these days. Now that he thought about it, he'd been whistling some of the Beatles on his way back to London, from Afghanistan.

The waitress returned with his steak pie, setting it down in front of him. Harry nearly moaned as the crust melted in his mouth. He deeply enjoyed having this treat, now that he was back in the UK. There was only so much the cooks back at base could do to make the food taste decent with such egregious ingredients.

"Careful there, someone might get jealous of that pie," a subtle Scottish Brogue washed over Harry's ears.

The woman's voice came from behind Harry's shoulder and he turned to look at the statuesque brunette standing behind him. She was beautiful and Harry found himself being reminded of that one actress who played the main role in the Tomb Raider films. He nodded his head in greeting and she took the nod as an invitation to join him at the table.

"You looked like you could use someone to talk to," she offered as she sat down and Harry could offer no reply. Instead, he only shrugged as he grabbed one of the extra menus at the corner of the table to give her. Harry watched her, a bit unsure of himself and how he was supposed to answer to this woman. Finally the most typical greeting left his lips.

"Hello, my name is Harry Potter," he responded. She looked up from the menu and gave him a small grin.

"I'm Keira Walsh," she said as the waitress came back to get Keira's order.

Harry allowed himself to relax a bit as he watched as she ordered from the menu and the waitress left once again to fill in the new order. Keira was the first to speak, "So Mr. Potter, why haven't I seen you here before?"

"I've been overseas," he answered vaguely.

This seemed to pique her interest. "Business or pleasure?" She asked with a coy grin on her face. One that Harry was finding hard not to match.

"Definitely business," he responded with a grin of his own.

"Sounds dull and boring," her grin was still splayed out over her face.

Harry shrugged, "It can be. Besides, I much prefer to be back home here in London. The weather here is absolutely abysmal, but at least it's usually cooler than the desert during the day."

Keira's eyes narrowed in interest, "Oooh, a military man, huh? How long have you been over there?"

"Off and on again since '02. So, about six years now," Harry answered, looking down at his plate.

"So you get to see the world? What's the most beautiful thing you've seen out there?" she queried.

Harry was sorely tempted to answer with 'you' but it reminded him too much of the cheesy pick-up lines Fred and George often employed, so he instead recalled the sight he'd been graced with the day when he last left Afghanistan, "We'd just taken off from the base and it was still dark. Our chopper was taking us to the American base in Qatar for supplies and what not. We'd be taking a flight from there."

He closed his eyes, as the sunrise over the Persian Gulf painted itself in his head. He opened his eyes and offered Keira a soft smile as he continued, "As we came in, you could see the sun coming up over the Persian Gulf. Everytime the sun comes up over the water, it's a great sign, but I think the fact that it meant I was finally going home for a while was even better."

The waitress returned with Keira's order, and after the waitress left, Keira raised her drink to Harry, "To more beautiful sunrises."

Harry raised his glass, "Cheers!"

They both knocked back their drinks and Harry once again enjoyed the sensation of the ale headed towards his stomach. The pub was quieter now, and a glance at his phone told him that it was nearing closing time for the pub. The waitress came back with the bill and Harry paid the tab.

"So, what do you say we get out of here?" asked Keira as she stood from the table. Harry followed suit, placing a £2 coin on the table as they left the pub. The weather was fair again as midnight came closer. Harry and Keira walked for what seemed like hours.

Harry let Keira take the lead and they came up on some apartment buildings and Harry followed as she led them to one of them. When they reached the entrance, Keira turned to Harry, a smile on her face.

"Would you like to come in? I'm sure I can wrangle up a small kettle of tea," she asked.

Harry breathed in deeply and offered her his best lopsided grin, "Sure."

She smiled brightly and opened the door to the townhouse. With a nod of his head, she let him enter first. The door closed tightly behind them.

6th February, 2009

Raza Hamidmi Al-Wazar was not a happy man.

Two cells had gone missing the past week. Almost all the scouts he had sent to investigate had never returned. The ones that did, spoke of a great terror. Scorched earth and burnt rubble. Remnants of an unknown weapon that extinguished their fellow brother cells from this Earth. All the while, the American and English forces began enclosing on their position.

Times were desperate.

Raza turned back to the cave they were currently operating from. The cell was little more than half staffed. They had to relocate after a couple of English forces ransacked their last center of operations. Rooms filled with weapons, riches, and men were lost to those English dogs as they were forced to flee.

Him, forced to flee. The other leaders would laugh and ridicule him if they heard of this development.

They needed something better. Something to force those American and English dogs to turn tail and flee. And as if Allah himself had come, the white Devil, otherwise known as Obadiah Stane, reached them. He made them a wondrous offer after hearing their demands - courtesy packages filled with Stark armaments built the trust the cell held towards the old man, but still, he would never fully trust a white traitor, if he could betray Stark, there is no guarantee they would not be betrayed in turn.

"Raza!" A man came rushing towards him from the mouth of the cave, speaking in heavily accented Arabic. "Mr. Stane has just called. And he says he has good news!"

Raza nodded and followed the man back to their communication center where Abu and the communications chief were already waiting for him. Abu's eyes were twinkling with delight. It appeared as if the offer was already something of interest if it had his second-in-command excited.

"Mr. Stane, I was told that you have an offer for us?" Raza started, his voice even, though the desire to sneer at the man persistently poked at the forefront of his mind.

"Ahhh Raza, I do have good news!" The white Devil smiled as he took a sip from a mug besides him. "Stark Industries has just unveiled a new weapon. Now I must say she is quite a beauty. Certain to wipe a mountain completely off the planet, if you understand what I mean?"

Raza's eye twitched at the hidden threat within Stane's message. "I see…"

"Now, I'm sure you may doubt my words, but next week, a Stark contractor will be demonstrating the capabilities of this weapon to the United States Army. I'm sure it will be a show that you would not want to miss."

6th June, 2009

Harry woke up feeling a bit groggy. Rubbing his eyes, he patted the bed to the left of him only to realize it was empty. A slight scent of peaches drifted from the bathroom that slowly forced him out of bed. He took his time in getting ready, it wasn't like there was anything for him to be doing at the moment.

After brushing and rinsing his teeth, Harry stumbled into the living room where he plopped down onto the couch. Clicking the remote, he found the television switching on to CNN which was continuing its broadcast about the mysterious disappearance of the famed billionaire Tony Stark and the aftereffects of his return.

Harry rolled his eyes as he fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. He didn't appreciate being pulled from shore leave to search for some inventor, if rumors served right, got himself captured and multiple soldiers killed due to his own recklessness. It reeked of selfishness. And quite possibly, the only reason he was pulled was because the inventor was some big shot within the U.S. military. Sure, it should have been a U.S. affiliated emergency and it would have, if it hadn't been for the fact that Stark was a weapons genius. If terrorists had him in their clutches, who knew what they could find themselves fighting against.

His short departure led to a few heated tensions with his girlfriend who was already quite concerned about the mounting tensions in Afghanistan. With a sigh, Harry turned the television off and prepared to go outside.

It was a quiet morning as he entered the pub and sat down on a bar stool. He pulled out his tome and began to read as he waited for someone to come out and see him. After about a minute or two, the pub owner came into the room with an apron on and a towel over his shoulder.

"Harry! How've you been?" Asked the aging man with a wide grin on his face.

Harry flashed a grin as he locked eyes with his former boss. Adam always seemed to have a smile on his face whenever he was at work. Didn't stop him from being a harsh taskmaster in the kitchen when it was necessary, however. But the quality of the food that came out from doing so made it more than worth it.

"Can't complain too much," answered Harry as the owner placed a cup of tea in front of him.

"So, what can I get you today?" Harry's eyes roamed the menu before landing on a rather appetizing option.

"I'll have the full breakfast."

"Okay then, give me a second and I'll go place the order in the back," the old man told him as he lumbered off into the back. Harry took a few seconds to stir his tea and before taking a sip as he glanced around the small pub.

"Still seeing that girl, what's her name Kyra?" asked Adam.

Harry glared at him a bit, but corrected him, "Keira, and yes, I'm still seeing her."

"I'm glad for you Harry, you need somebody that can pull you out of your apartment every once and awhile," Adam responded, leaning back against the countertop behind him, "Everything good in that department?"

Harry grimaced as he looked down at his teacup. Things weren't as good as they had been. He stirred his drink once more, creating a swirling brew intermittent with chaotic whirlpools before answering the man, "She's not taking too well the fact that I'm constantly being deployed to Afghanistan. Keeps asking me to transfer somewhere else. It's not like I have a choice, though. It's up to command that determines where I go, not me. If she is constantly getting upset about that and refuses to listen when I try to explain, how's it going to be like with the next deployment?"

Adam picked up a glass and started patting it down with his towel, "Do you love her?"

Harry began to contemplate on his words before offering a shrug. "I like her, I guess."

Adam looked at him critically. "You guess? Then why are you still with her?"

Harry could only offer another shrug before a small ding rang through the pub as a tall black man adorned in a long ebony leather coat strided into the building. As Adam walked off to tend to the newcomer, Harry found himself staring emptily at his tea.

What was he looking for with his relationship with Keira? Something normal? Something stable? Companionship? These thoughts roamed around his head, unaware of the small wooden creaks sounding from the stool next to him.

"So, I guess this is the place where I can expect to find one of the SAS's youngest and one of the most successful members of all time."

Harry gently laid his fork back down to his plate as he turned to look at the newcomer who just moved to the seat right next to him. Up close, Harry could see an eyepatch covering the left eye of the dark skinned man as he looked towards him with an unflinching stare. Even with only one eye, Harry could feel himself become slightly unnerved from the strange man.

"I think you may have the wrong person." Harry replied.

"No, I'm pretty sure I have the right person," the man chuckled, relieving the pub of all its previous tension. "You are not exactly that hard to track down."

"You know," Harry began to reply as he dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "Even the bit of information you do have is not publically accessible. I could have you detained and thrown into lockup for just knowing this."

"I know more than bits Mr. Potter," the man spoke as he leaned closer to Harry. "But I'm not here to talk about your career history. At least, not directly."

Harry found himself slightly curious as the man began pulling a manila folder from within his coat. Placing it down in front of him, Harry found himself casting the mysterious man a wary look before opening the folder.

Records, health reports, grades, identification papers. All lined up and organized into their own little subsections with the folder. Notes detailing about previous operations he took part of. His successes in the field with notes from his superiors. Even the black ops operation held several connections towards him within the folder. Each and every paper within, all meant to be classified.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has had its eye on you for a very long time Mr. Potter," the man said as he observed the conflicted emotions travelling across Harry's face.

"Shield?"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, or S.H.I.E.L.D., for short," the man clarified as he began taking a sip from the drink placed before him. "And yes, the upper echelons of your British military know we exist. We just prefer to keep our organization out of public view."

"Secretive, huh?" Harry scoffed as he turned his attention back to his plate. "Doesn't sound so secretive if you are discussing this with me in an open pub."

"You and I have very different views of open, Mr. Potter."

Harry stilled before casting a wide sweep of the entire pub. There was absolutely no one around. The pub owner was missing and there was hardly any sound coming from the back. Even the television in the corner of the room was shut off. All in all, it was only him and the strange man in the pub alone. His hand slowly drifted beneath his jacket to grip his pistol only to discover the man's hand gripping his wrist, halting the movement.

"My division specializes in counter-terrorism and intelligence," the man continued, ignoring Harry's narrowed gaze pointed his way. "For two years now, my organization has been tracking your movements."

"Great," Harry scoffed as he attempted to jerk his hand out of the man's ironclad grip. "My own personal secretive stalker. Positively titillating."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. monitors all threats to global security," the man clarified as he released Harry's wrist. "You just happen to be one of those supposed threats. If you turned, who knows what kind of damage you could do to the world?"

"I am just one man," Harry replied as he suspiciously observed the slight gleam in the man's only remaining eye.

"Indeed," the man smiled as he began drinking from his cup once more. "One man with the ability to do the extraordinary."

Harry found himself flying into action before his brain could even process what just occurred. A jab towards the head followed by an uppercut to the stomach. All of which would have landed if it wasn't for the equally as fast reflexes from the man besides him. Dodging the cup thrown at his face, Harry whipped around and pulled out his Glock-17 only to find a similar pistol aimed straight at his face.

"You're fast Potter, very fast," the man complimented. "I'm very glad I had the chance to see a hint of it in action."

"Well, you're about to see something a whole lot quicker if you don't lower that gun, right now," Harry hissed as he locked gazes with the man in front of him.

"I'm just here to ask for your help," the man spoke.

"Yea?" Harry questioned, "Well, you've got a shitty way of showing it."

With a gesture meant to symbolize Harry to relax. The man slowly placed his pistol down on the bar counter before raising his hands in the air.

"You see? Now please, lower that gun," the man spoke, "you are making my agents very, very anxious."

Harry looked down to see several laser dots pointed all around his torso. With a twitch in his eye, Harry placed his gun back underneath his jacket. As soon as he did so, the lasers disappeared.

"You were prepared," Harry replied as he stared back at the slightly amused man.

"I've done my homework, yes," the man responded as he nodded to the folder. "Are you prepared to do yours?"

"What do you want?"

"No, no, no," the man chuckled as he took a seat at the bar once more. "It's not what I want. It's what you want. You're looking for a purpose. Possibly, it's why you joined the military. While I'm sure you had other reasons as well, as seen in the folder, your uncanny actions in minimizing collateral damage and the rather unfortunate accident one of your superiors had suffered, you've got no idea what you want to do! You're a man with ideas but have no way of knowing how to follow through with them."

"So what is this?" Harry questioned. "A recruiting pitch?"

"Not yet," the man said as he gestured towards Harry to finish his breakfast. "I have a slight problem that I need some outside help with. The SAS recommended you."

Harry glared at the man, still suspicious until the man handed him a letter from within his coat. Ripping up the seal, Harry's frown lessened as he skimmed the paper before noticing the signature of the Director SAS at the bottom of the paper.

"You want me to go on a rescue mission to retrieve one of your agents in the Middle East?" Harry shook his head, "Why can't you send one of your own men to do so?"

"I'm afraid… we might have a slight internal problem," the man's tone signalled his slight irritation with the subject. "It's enough to say that we don't want to give his captors any sort of warning that someone is coming."

Harry leafed through the letter and folder before sighing and looking back up at the strange man, "When would I leave?"

Fury gave him a smile now, "Flight leaves for Kabul at nine PM tonight from Heathrow, you'll be taken to the American Embassy in Kabul. Instructions will be there when you arrive."

"You know, I never got your name?" Harry called out as the man began approaching the only entrance into the pub.

"It's Fury," the man answered as he opened the door, "Nicholas Fury."

As the strange man left, Harry turned back to the folder and letter resting in his hands.

Keira's going to be so pissed.

A few hours later, Harry was sitting in Keira's apartment waiting for her to come home. She hadn't been happy when he called her at work and told her that something had come up and that he had to leave London that night. He already had his bags packed and was just waiting for the inevitable argument that was coming his way.

He prepared a pot of tea for when she got there, they would both likely need that or something stronger. He was setting the table when she came in through the door and placed her purse on the little table by the door. She saw the tea and went to sit down, waiting for Harry to join her.

"So, tell me again what happened?" she asked.

Harry poured them both a cup of tea, making them the way they both preferred before answering. "I've been tasked to assist in a rescue operation earlier this morning. I have to leave to Afghanistan tonight."

Keira finally looked up at him and Harry noticed just how dark the circles underneath her eyes were. "Are you kidding me? Again?"

Harry felt a bit indignant, "This is my job. It's what I do, you've known this since we met."

Keira gripped her cup of tea tightly as she shot a glare towards Harry. "Yes, but it's beginning to feel like you are prioritizing your job over me. And when you get back, you like to pretend that nothing has happened at all."

"It's my duty," Harry reiterated as he groaned in annoyance, "I can't drop everything and stay with you every second of the day. I've made a pledge when I joined the military and I have to stick to it."

Harry expected screaming or shouting. But he didn't expect the monotone voice that came from her. "I can't deal with this anymore. Just go. I'll send you anything you forgot but just… go."

Harry sighed and rose from the table. A lump of guilt began pooling within his throat. He tried hard to swallow but it refused to go down. Gripping his bags, he casted one last look in Keira's direction before walking out the door.

7th June, 2009

The drive to the embassy was a quiet one. Harry had used the flight to Kabul to read his briefing and mentally prepare himself for the trip ahead. Now that he was in Kabul, he was ready to work. When they arrived at the embassy, it was already dawn and there was a man in a suit and with short hair waiting for them at the gates. Harry thanked the driver as he exited the SUV before approaching the waiting man who took a glance at his watch.

"You're late."

"I didn't realize there was a specific time for me to arrive," Harry retorted. One of the agent's eyebrows rose before he didn't offer back any retaliation.

"My name is Agent Coulson. I will be your assigned handler as we prepare you for your mission," the man gestured for Harry to follow him inside and Harry dutifully followed.

Agent Coulson led Harry through the embassy to a door with the emblem of an eagle embossed on the glass. Based on the image he'd seen on some of the folders earlier, Harry figured this must have been the emblem of S.H.I.E.L.D. The label beneath with the words "Field Office-Kabul" on the glass only signified the importance of said building to Harry.

"You know," Harry mentioned with a small smirk. "I would have thought an counter-intelligence agency would have been more… covert."

Coulson responded with a deadpan, "We believe that hiding in plain sight is a philosophy to aspire to, Mr. Potter."

"Fair enough," Harry replied though he doubted keeping the emblem of said agency in open view did the agency any favors.

They went to a service elevator that only had one direction from the main floor, downwards. Harry's eyebrows rose as they went down several levels. He was tempted to whistle a small tune, but Coulson seemed to be a bit too stiff, although that could easily be attributed to the fact that one of his fellow agents was currently being held hostage.

They exited from the elevator into a room filled with armor and weaponry. Harry let out a low whistle. From pistols to anti-material sniper rifles, this armory had it all. Scouring through the shelves and lockers, Harry found himself drifting the handguns and pulled one out that resembled his own. It was a Glock-17 with heavy modifications. Pulling his own out, Harry compared the two before picking up the custom glock in satisfaction.

"Lightweight trigger, custom barrel, custom silencer, custom stippling, extended magazine and a reflex sight?" Harry whistled in appreciation as he twisted the gun around in his hand from all angles. "Someone worked very hard on you."

"We aspire to have the best gear possible for every agent," Coulson explained as he stood next to Harry. "Is that all you wish to use?"

Harry nodded as he grabbed several of the extended magazines to pocket as Coulson led him to another section of the armory. Lockers filled with bodysuits lined the walls. But Harry found his eyes being torn away when Coulson seemingly pulled a remote out of nowhere and pressed a button. A hiss emitted from the back end of the room as a closed-faced locker rose from the floor. Small amounts of mist flowed down the casket as it escaped from its chilled confines.

"If you don't mind, we've already decided on your outfit based on what talents we were able to observe." Pressing the remote once more, a mechanical hiss emanated through the armory as the casket began to open.

It was really something out of a comic book if one thought about it. It was being worn on a mannequin for the full effect. It wasn't military body armor, but rather a full slim suit. The torso was a thin jacket with a strap wrapping around the chest. The forearms were coated with a thin metal gauntlet that connected to an elbow pad. This came with gloves designed for ease of use. The pants included armor for the thighs as well as extra cargo pockets for small tools. There was also a holster for the glock along the side. At the feet were two padded boots that rose up to the knees.

The main piece of the entire attire had to be the helmet. It was mainly a fiber based cloth, but it was covered with straps that were attached to a pair of NVGs which was equipped with a filter breather beneath along with small cameras that allowed the wearer to view targets from multiple angles. A long whistle escaped through Harry's lips as he approached the chilled suit.

Harry turned to Coulson again, "This is what I'll be using?"

"I take it that you are satisfied with the design?" asked Coulson, a slight smirk on his lips.

Harry looked back at the suit, "Bloody hell, mind giving me the details of the suit?"

"We've done our own mix in creating a lightweight bulletproof material for our field agents to use," Coulson began explaining as he took up his position by the suit. "While the process is too expensive to mass produce, it is quite effective. A hybrid mix including kevlar and ballistic nylon, the suit should be able to stop any sort of light caliber rounds. The goggles are a modified version of Steiner's AN/PVS-21 NVGs that should offer thermal optics in addition to the night optics. Titanium alloy plates adorn the forearms, shins, and chest for additional protection as well."

Coulson checked his watch before motioning to the suit. "We are running late, if you would please put on the suit."

He turned away as Harry pulled the suit from the casket. Stripping out of his clothes, Harry began pulling the suit off the mannequin. A cool sensation ran up Harry's body and goosebumps ran up his body like a tidal wave as he slid one foot after another into the suit. Zipping the suit up, Harry began flexing different parts of his body before putting the suit through a wide array of motions. While the suit hugged his body, it offered zero limitations or restrictions, whatsoever.

He could get used to this.

When Harry was finished, Coulson led him up to the roof where a weird looking jet was waiting for them. Coulson must have sensed Harry's curiosity because he began to speak once more as they boarded the jet.

"We call it a quinjet," Coulson explained. "It'll take you to the drop point. The coordinates for the extraction have already been put into your GPS. You'll take Rumlow to the pick up where the quinjet and pilot will be waiting for you. Should just be a simple in-and-out job. Good luck Mr. Potter."

As Coulson left the quinjet, Harry strapped himself in as the quinjet lifted off from the roof and towards the direction of his drop point.

It was dark when Harry glided onto the rocky terrain. Casting a disillusionment spell over himself, Harry quickly began walking towards the first set of GPS coordinates. It wasn't too far. He made sure to land near the marked position on his GPS to avoid the hassle of a long trip to his objective. With the night sky playing to his favor, he was practically invisible to anyone looking up into the atmosphere.

When he arrived near the coordinates he found himself staring at another cave encampment. Switching to night vision, Harry located three glowing silhouettes moving lazily through the camp. Slipping his wand and pistol into hand, he cut down the guards at the front of the cave entrance with severing spells aimed at their necks while shooting a third in the head with his pistol up on the watchtower. He didn't bother to stay for the gory aftermath as he passed them, wand raised, into the cave system as their bodies vanished from the Earth.

The lighting system was shoddy, allowing Harry to creep through the system of tunnels with ease, barely visible to the naked eye. Pistol pointed outfront, Harry quickly hugged the walls as a group of fatigued, haggard terrorists staggered up the cave tunnel. As soon as their backs were turned towards him, Harry quickly fired off multiple shots with his pistol before vanishing their corpses to join their comrades with a swish of his wand.

Where do vanished objects go anyways?

Each guard he passed, he killed as stealthily as he could. To destabilize the terrorist cell, he vanished the weapon stockpiles he came across which were resting in the small alcoves of the cave system. His objective wasn't to eliminate the entire terrorist cell. Intel stated that two more major cells would be arriving at this location and if they discovered something suspicious, then they would lose the opportunity to eliminate a total of three massive cells in one single strike. That was almost two-hundred terrorists.

Sweeping past the patrols of guards, Harry found himself delving deeper and deeper into the cave system. Nothing appeared to look like an interrogation room or holding cells. Just rooms filled with maps, bunks, or stockpiles of supplies.

Digging deeper and deeper, Harry found himself halted, hugging the cave walls in the shadows, when he came across a weary insurgent covered in a layer of blood, coating his body like a macabre and thick paint. His finger twitched across the trigger guard of his pistol but he stayed his hand. As the terrorist lumbered off, Harry decided to travel down the path where the terrorist came from.

Furtively slinking down the tunnel, Harry found himself approaching an open room that held a restrained man slumping down in his chair. The man was looking pretty haggard. Harry guessed that the terrorists had indeed put the man through the ringer so to speak. There were signs of hunger and abuse all over his body. He would need extensive medical attention. Gently pushing the man against the back of his chair, Harry was able to make out the stitching that read "Rumlow" on the left part of the chest. Confirming that this was the agent he was sent to extract, Harry quickly cut the man's bindings before casting a Stupefy at the abused man.

The less the man was jostled about, the easier it will be for the doctors to help him recover. Hauling the man onto his back in a fireman carry, Harry casted a quick second glance around the room to ensure nothing was left behind before he Apparated away.

Quick, quiet, and efficient. As he made his half-mile jog to the extraction point, Harry couldn't help but wonder whether or not S.H.I.E.L.D. would let him keep the suit. He couldn't remember the last time a mission felt this easy, it was almost disquietingly comfortable.

A/N: It's been a while, hasn't it? Unfortunately, my personal life has been a bit hectic. Besides my great-uncle passing away, I also broke four ribs after falling down a flight of stairs, not fun. The nice thing is I now have a rather long summer break ahead and I should be ready to rock n' roll. If you haven't seen it yet, there is a poll on my profile, so go vote while it's still up.

Venerance: Hi, so some of you may be wondering what the suit really looks like? I doubt we did a descriptive enough job of describing it for you. But if you want to have the main idea of what Harry's suit looks like, look up "Agent of Omnistat" on google images. Only thing we really changed was the NVGs for the outfit. Instead of the ones you see in that picture, just imagine Steiner's ones.