CHAPTER 3

Harry followed Harry Hart into the tailor shop. The older man greeted the man at the counter, who stated "Fitting room one is open, sir," and a small smile on his face. Harry didn't miss how he was being assessed but didn't say anything. From what Harry had told him, this job was a bit James Bond-ish, so if the man running the shop hiding a spy organization has the need to assess him, he wasn't going to complain. Harry certainly understood that instinct to assess everyone after the war.

"What is your full name?" Harry Hart asked him, startling him out of his thoughts. The man was facing a mirror and Harry walked so he stood next to him. While the younger of the shared namesake had changed into nice pants and a button up top, he still looked like a slob next to the impeccable Harry Hart.

"Harry James Potter-Peverell." Harry stated. It still sounded weird for him to add Peverell to his name, but when he went to Gringotts, they gifted him with the Peverell title as a gift of finding all the Hallows.

"And is Harry short for something? My own name is short for Harold, much to my own displeasure. I never liked it much." Harry Hart asked, looking at the younger through the mirror.

"I am not sure, I'm an orphan and no one ever told me or called me anything but Harry Potter," Harry replied, his voice turning slightly bitter at the end.

"Would you like to be called something else? Of course, a gentleman is always called by his preferred and generally formal title." Harry told him, his mouth quirked. "May I suggest Hadrian? It's a noble and strong name."

"Hadrian, yeah, I like that." Harry Potter replied.

"Of course, if you make it through training you will be assigned the name Gawain. That is the spot on the Round Table you are competing for." Harry told him.

The raven haired man made a face. "Isn't that rather Arthurian, the Round Table, Gawain?"

Harry chuckled. "The Kingsman are the new Knights. Manners Maketh Man, Hadrian, remember that."

The candidate smirked. "Manners Maketh Man, I do like that."

Harry looked around him, the reality of what he had just achieved finally beginning to sink in.

Harry had been the only wizard but he is among his fellow high society that he become familiar with after he discovered his inheritance. The people he roomed with were pretty good people, a few petty rivalries here and there but it is to be expected given the situation. Even so, Harry had not found himself making any real friends here, still preferring to keep to himself. He knew that either he would win and never see these people again or lose and still never see them again. Besides, for the past few years he had lived relatively alone, making a few friends but not close ones.

Harry did, however, find himself seeking out the company of the other Harry, or Galahad, whenever the man was around. Once Harry got over the sheer gorgeousness of the man, he was able to find they had a lot in common and began to unconsciously copy the man's mannerism.

He thought back to the first test, the water filled room. One of the other recruits figured out how to get air through the toilet pipes while Harry used a modified bubble-head charm that allowed him focus on getting everyone else air and cracking the glass. Harry had managed to swing on a pipe hanging on the ceiling and used the force of his body to crack the glass.

Merlin had seemed very pleased with his actions. The balding man pointed out how he saved Jane, a girl who had been drowning, which seemed to gain him some extra points in the man's book. Except Harry had noticed that Jane wasn't really drowning, only faking, when he went over to her. It was then that he figured out that they must be rigging the tests to show the worst. He had seen similar topics during the war.

The second test was when they had to choose a puppy. After losing Hedwig during the war, Harry had never considered having another pet, but when he saw the cute face of the all black German Shepherd staring at him, he felt his heart cave and he carefully lifted the pup into his arms.

After naming him Sirius (much to the pleasure of Galahad who said it was an ancient name that fit in well) he had gone through the rest of his training with him. Sirius, much like his namesake, was both mischievous and faithful to a fault, even when he was barely twenty pounds. Harry often found him staring and glaring at any of the recruits who seemed to do anything to bother Harry.

Harry was happy he had spent all that time in the Room of Requirement learning all manner of subjects as it helped him when he had to take many tests on subjects ranging from Spanish and French verbs to how to clean, load, and shoot various guns to foreign politics.

It was at this point, about a month and a half after the start of training, that Remus had started to get suspicious, sending letters and calls when he could. Harry knew he couldn't tell Remus what he was doing, and simply told him he was at school for a new job. He wasn't wrong.

Besides learning about weapons and fighting and foreign politics, the Kingsman also insisted on teaching the candidates how to be a tailor, at least to the extent that they could pass for one and tend to the shop above when needed. Harry, much to his own surprise, had begun to find this a relaxing reprieve as well from the stress.

The manor also had a fairly large collection of gymnastic equipment that the wizard found himself using whenever he could. The man who shared his namesake had often came to watch him practice, remarking on his fluidness and how it would help him on the job.

The day Merlin sent them out to go skydiving, Harry had been the unlucky victim to be without a parachute, saved by a carefully placed cushioning charm and the last minute help of one of his fellow recruits. All in all, by the end of the test only two remained. He and another by the name of Emerson.

When they were given twenty-four hours with their mentors before the final test, Harry Hart had invited a just turned twenty two Hadrian out to his house for a celebratory drink and dinner.

*Flashback*

"Thank you for the food," Hadrian told the older man as his plate was taken to the kitchen. "Do you want some help cleaning up?"

He got up to follow his mentor to his kitchen, his head buzzing slightly from Harry's excellent Scotch collection they had broken into. As he walked behind the agent, his emerald eyes trailed up the man's body. Harry was still wearing his suit from work, only having removed his jacket to leave his vest and shirt and tie.

"I think I can handle just fine but thank you," Harry responded. He turned to give the wizard a smile and Hadrian got an idea and acted on it before he could think it through. Stepping forward, he placed his hands on the older man's hips and then walked them backwards until Harry it the edge of the counter. "Hadrian?" Harry asked but was quieted when Hadrian dropped to his knees and began to unbuckle his belt. "Of fuck,"

"That's the idea, mate," Hadrian quipped before being silenced.

After a truly wonderful night, Harry to get through the final task to get the job he had spent just over two months working for.

When Harry was called into a room by Merlin, only to have the man hand him a gun and tell him, "Shot the dog," he nearly froze. He took the gun, mind whirling. He had noticed that the past tests had been rigged to that no one actually died, so he could assume this was too. Shakily, he raised the handgun and pointed it to the head of Sirius, he mind flashing to the image of his godfather falling through the veil.

He pulled the trigger.