Thomas Acker was not the strongest opponent Harry had ever faced. In all honestly, he wasn't even close. His actions were fuelled through anger and desperation and not much else. He had gotten the drop on Harry and his partner through sheer dumb luck and that wasn't from a false sense of modesty on Harry's part. He crimes were disgusting and remembering even half of what the bastard was wanted for overpowered the after taste of Pennyworth's cooking, twisting the remnants of breakfast into something toxic.

Acker was a despicable person and a waste of flesh but the reason why the Unspeakables were involved at all were for his connections, not his crimes. Very involved. Harry had been nearing MACUSA's entrance when he had finally gotten his Commander's response, because while the Patronus was convenient, it wasn't quick. The message was a demand for immediate retrieval. In other words, "save the politics for the aurors and do your bloody job, Potter!"

It hadn't taken long for Harry to about turn from where he had been headed to restart his hunt. He should be asking for permission to work on American terrain; they didn't appreciate foreign governments working on their soil without it. Harry knew this but he also didn't answer to MACUSA. If the Commander wasn't scared of the fall out, well, it wasn't down to Harry's judgement. That he enjoyed some diplomatic immunity helped.

Luckily, it didn't take long to track Acker down. He was amateurish at best at concealing his magical signature. Subduing him was more of an effort but not by much. By lunch time Harry had his perp under arrest and trapped in a containment hex developed solely for the DMLE use. It was the safest way to transport criminals though the ethics of the hex had been argued a number of times, from a number of mouths that had never had to place value on a life; from people who had never had to weigh risks, who had never had the chance of a civilian getting hurt by the possibility that a criminal got free.

The containment hex wrapped it's victim inside a dimensional pocket, or so it was theorised. Not many were terribly clear on how it worked, just that it did. Harry, himself, preferred not to think about it. Not that it wasn't a concern, just that the longer he had worked for the DMLE, the more righteous conduct faded in favour of practicality. Acker may be in distress from the hex but it wouldn't physically harm in and that was enough for Harry.

It wasn't long after that Harry was breezing past MACUSA security and heading straight for the receptionist positioned at the front desk. Gloria Nawabi, Harry had first met years ago, now in her mid-fifties and a retired auror. Retired after her wand arm was ruined on a mission and she was deemed no longer fit for duty. She had sharp eyes and a solid equanimity.

Gloria picked him out from the masses; from all her colleagues milling about with something to do. Her eyebrow raises as she recognises him but she stays otherwise unaffected. Gloria was someone who was hard to fluster. It's something that he had always liked about her.

'Agent Potter,' Gloria greets upon his reaching her but it's more of a demand while using a facade of politeness that he had yet seen crack. "Agent" instead of his actual title as he was a foreign worker, a common practice between governments and their public servants.

Why are you here? is silent between them, left unsaid. No paper work would be there for him, least not yet if the Commander bothered with it at all this late in the game. Harry knew the process; officially having visited a number of times. He could find his way to any department, recognised the workers and had some understanding for their schedule.

Harry had one of the better relationships with MACUSA, in or out of his Unspeakable robes. Whether that was down to how unconventional Harry was or the history his family held here, he wasn't sure. It wasn't much to brag about considering the state of their alliance.

'Gloria,' Harry says with a smile. He is tentative on his feet but he doesn't feel like having that exploited today. 'I assure you my being here is as unexpected for me as it is for you.'

Gloria was not stereotypically intimidating at only five feet, four inches with a relatively slight frame, however athletic. She had a presence though, an air of quiet strength that followed everything she did. From the reports Harry had read about her (because he was an Unspeakable and an aspect of his job was being intrusive), she was impressive.

'I haven't missed a memo, I assume.' This was a courtesy. From their every interaction Gloria had proven herself to be scarily competent.

Harry leans against her desk in some semblance of nonchalance though really it was to hide his weak knees. 'Afraid not,' he responds.

Gloria inclines her head. 'Then, Agent, how did you come to be on American soil?' she asks in all her official capacity. It was a thing Harry played along with in measurements. 'I would like to remind you that you are a representative between our countries and while that allows certain amenities it may have impacts or be brought up in future meetings, discussions or trade deals.'

Harry doesn't snort because he's not that much of a prat. It is a close call though. 'I understand,' he says and he did but that didn't mean he didn't find it ridiculous. 'I had a 10-29f. Committed a code 243b before he deployed the use of an illegal portkey. I now have him in containment.'

Gloria's eyes flickered over him and lingered over the bandages wrapped around his head, which he had considered removing. 'Damages?'

Harry didn't wince as he replied with a clear: 'unknown.' He had lost track of Acker for hours after all, and there was no responsible way of hiding that.

'You'll consent to a written report?'

'Sign, sealed and delivered before I leave,' Harry promises though he'd really rather not. The most tedious part of his job was the paperwork. It was even worse when it was for other countries and his chicken scratch handwriting and vague bullshitting wasn't good enough to pass.

Gloria raised a single eyebrow. 'I suppose you'll be needing the use of our holding cells, as well as a department head?'

Harry smiled even if he'd forego the whole mess entirely if he could. 'If you please.'

Gloria sighed but she finished writing her message on the enchanted paper in front of her, and with a wave of her rune pen it folded itself neatly into the form of a bird. Harry watched idly as it flew off. 'Harry,' she prompts once she's done, tone lighter if not wearier.

'I know,' Harry exhales, holding up a hand.

If Gloria wasn't so composed she'd be pinching the bridge of her nose. As is, she closes her eyes for a moment too long. 'How do you manage this?'

Harry swallows. That was the question, wasn't it? 'I am what I am,' he laughs because this was fine. Even when it wasn't. He hated himself for feeling even the least part bitter for the direction of his life, because he had chosen this life. These were his choices.

Gloria's brow creases, unobscured by a middle parting in her long, dark hair. She sense the changing track of their short conversation and hesitates. '…procedure is doing a killing on you.'

Harry snorts. 'Aw, come on. What's a bit of paperwork between allies?' Hyperbolical, of course. The short answer: a lot. Harry got a certain amount of leeway as his occasional stints as a representative, his status in England and his surname. Otherwise, there was little love lost between England and America, however much their "special relationship" was professed. This could cause an uncomfortable tension between their two governments.

Gloria gives a short shake of her head. 'I can feel the grey hair starting to grow, Potter, and you aren't even one of ours.' Receptionists dealt with a lot of crap. He'd handed her a lot of crap. Harry didn't blame her for her exasperation.

'You have nothing on me, Agent Nawabi. In full knowledge of the law, I understand that me doing my job does not make me responsible for any emotional distress that may occur.'

Gloria's eyes narrow in mock scorn as she learns forward to jab her pen in Harry's direction. 'Yet,' she states. 'There's a petition going around just for you.'

'I feel honoured.' Harry smirks, hand over his chest. Gloria rolls her eyes with a snort as she gestures for the two aurors guarding the area forward. He doesn't remember them as well as Gloria, not with the shifts so frequent.

'Everything alright over here?' the tallest one asks uncertainly.

'Of course,' Harry responds blithely even while palming his wand. 'I have a perp in need of lockup until we can send him back across the pond. You gentlemen up for the task?'

The shorter auror frowns. 'Status?'

'Unarmed,' Harry reassures while slowly drawing his wand. Americans were too quick to fight, the exact opposite back home even if England was better known for its duelists. It made Harry warier than he otherwise should be as he pulled a bound and shaking Acker from the pocket he'd been held up in. Space ruptures and the air shakes as Acker tumbles to the floor, seemingly from nowhere. 'I'll send the office his paperwork if it's needed after my telling off.'

The aurors blink at his display, while the spell was more or less pretty common in Europe it was less so in America. They argued over the ethics of it even while their fatality numbers were one of the highest in the world. That, and it wasn't easy holding the spell in place for a long period of time, which probably made Harry's causal use seem somewhat unusual.

'Thomas Acker,' Harry inform them as he gets Acker off of the ground and forcing the man to his feet. One of his victims while seriously injured and in unimaginable pain had managed to stumble away to get help, putting the location of where they had been left to bleed to death behind them. If they could accomplish that, than Acker could bloody well carry his own damn weight.

The tallest auror nods, wand in hand as he takes Acker's arm in a tight grip. Bastard was already in cuffs so there wasn't much else to do but dump him in a cell. 'Right, got it,' he says as he glances from Acker to Harry. 'Should we inform the Ministry that we have him in our custody for the time being?'

'Only if you promise not to lose him,' Harry says with a smirk. Honestly, the Ministry would be the last to know about his gaunt to the States. His orders passed through the Unspeakables to the proper channels for an auror so identities remained hidden.

The shorter auror snorts. 'As entertaining as ever, Agent.' The distain was clear and Harry honestly barely blinked. He was used to people liking him for one reason and hating him for another. 'We'll take him.' He's far rougher with Acker than his partner but Harry doesn't watch them leave for too long. A few bruises on Acker was the least he deserved, honestly.

'You don't remember Auror Miller, do you?' Gloria asks though she already knows the answer to that. Harry turns back to her with a shrug. 'It was one of your first visits? Things exploded? We had to Obliviate a whole street of muggles and then blame it on the Metas? You left us the clean up?'

Harry hums in a careless manner. 'Yeah,' he says. 'Sounds like me. He one of the poor bastards work over time?'

Gloria snorts indelicately. 'Him and half the department. You're luck we let you back in after that.'

Harry nods. 'I thank your patriotism every day,' he replies.

'What was that? Causing trouble already, cousin?' a voice asks, taking Harry by surprise. His hair on his neck stands up on end as he swerves around. He forgets in his startle his state as a certifiable bobble head and stumbles and would have fallen with how gravity had shifted against him if not for strong hands that grab hold of his arms and steadied him. 'Woah there!'

Harry blinks away the black spots to stare up at a familiar face. 'Zea,' he breathes in relief, smiling slightly though the woman doesn't return the expression. Her face was creased into something vaguely concerned.

'You didn't report he was injured, Gloria,' Eliza chides although there isn't much edge there, it's enough. Gloria, who had sprung to her feet seemed paler, her grip on her pen having shifted to how one would hold a wand.

'I….saw the bandages around his head but…' Gloria trailed off and for a second fought for some inner balance as she reseats herself. 'I apologise, I should have known better. Not to mention, he's a Potter.'

'Oy now.' Harry huffs and tries to step back from Eliza but she's gotten her claws into him now and doesn't seem all that willing to let him go. 'I resent that.'

Gloria looks as unimpressed as it gets. He vaguely remembers Malfoy looking similar that one time he'd tried to leave his tender care with bleeding ears. 'No,' she refutes impassively, 'you resemble that.'

'I'm not sure how much I appreciate that,' Eliza responds before Harry can, shifting her grip to his shoulders to keep him steady even after Harry found his feet.

'He's not the first in your family to bleed over my desk, Auror Potter,' Gloria lightly comments.

'I'm not bleeding,' Harry feels the need to point out. He'd had stitches and everything.

'This time,' Gloria corrects and…yeah, she's not wrong.

Eliza huffs. 'Thanks for getting more, Gloria. I'll take him back to my office. Healer in ten?'

Gloria inclines her head, already reaching to create another message. 'Thanks,' Harry adds but he's already getting pulled away. He knows the path, having been to Eliza's offer a number of times before. They get a few looks, and more than one official recognises him. He an see their uncertainty though no one disturbs them.

Before Harry knows it, he's sat on her settee; stuffed into one side of the room for guests or meetings. In his days as Head Auror, Harry had had something similar. The desk was pushed into a corner of the room, filled to the brim with paperwork and having memos circling the space of her abandoned chair. It was all organised chaos, with filling cabinets lining the walls and paper and notes strewn across the floor.

Eliza sits herself opposite him, robes almost artfully splaying around her. Hazel eyes assess him and although he'd never gotten to know his dad outside of pictures, her's were still awfully familiar. They reminded Harry of the things he had lost; he could never make up his mind if they comforted him as much as they hurt him.

'You look like hell,' Eliza states after a pause too long, blunt and straightforward as she watches him, while scanning him for further injury. Her eyes linger around Harry's shoulder and even though he had transfigured his jacket, she's no fool.

Harry shrugs. 'I feel it to be honest,' he responds. 'Had some right rotten luck with that bastard.'

Elizabeth "Eliza" Potter, age thirty-three-years old. Eliza had Harry's father's eyes and their family's hair worn long like a lion's mane about her head. He'd met her his first assignment to the MACUSA. As an orphan, he had known little of the Potter's history; hadn't known that a branch family had travelled out to America during its colonial days and had built up from there. The Potter's had been one of MACUSA's founders, or something of the like. Law enforcement seemed to run in the blood.

He doesn't know which one of them had been more shocked; Eliza who had known that he was out there - because who didn't? But recognising him as blood and not just some celebrity. Or Harry, for realising there was any blood to recognise.

She'd been green at the time, but still a force to be reckoned with. Harry was new to the Ministry himself back then, but not to service. Neville, his partner at the time, had spent a long time looking between them. Eliza had stared a lot herself. Until, finally, she had said: 'you remind me of my grandfather, back during - well. Grindelwald.'

They had had a strange relationship since but Harry trusted her, despite how fraught the politics could be. They weren't - close, but they were in the strange circumstance of knowing each other without experiencing much of each other. They could read each other, shared traits and characteristics though some may call it superficial. Harry wasn't about to be invited over for Christmas - he had his own family, but there was this tacit agreement of support that had formed without their awareness.

'Must be off your game,' Eliza comments though that was more mocking than anything. They had built up a healthy respect for each other after working together.

'Could just be old age,' Harry jokes. Out of all his coworkers, he by far was kept the closest eye on, taking every precaution to ensure he didn't die in the field. No one wanted that, could afford that. Harry was more emendable to any possible ending but that's because he understood what his job could ask of him.

Eliza tilts her head as her face becomes more serious. 'So, you're not under my jurisdiction and I feel like you've already going to get one hell of a reprimand once you get back to England. A part from more things to rip you about, I've got nothing to say about this unexpected vacation. But, I'll need a full report. How long will you be staying?'

As an auror conducting work, even if they weren't working directly with MACUSA, they didn't need a Visa. All that was required of them was permission which granted them a pass for however long their mission lasted. Special relationship, indeed. Now that Harry was here, unless America wanted to pursue charges - which Eliza obviously didn't, even with Acker caught, he could stay however long processing took which was really down to the two governments and Harry, himself.

'A couple of days? I'll get it done before, maybe tonight? It won't take too long, I can have the office Floo me copies of the documentation you'll need,' Harry replies and Eliza seems happy enough with that but, since he was here… 'Actually, Zea there's something I need your advice about.'

Eliza quirks an eyebrow. 'Why does that sound like I'm about to have an impending headache, cousin?'

Harry shifts awkwardly. 'My - er, surrogate uncle, has this ward? They live in Gotham and he's asked me if I could work part time for awhile. I'm thinking about taking leave from the Ministry since they're in a bit of a bind but I'm guessing I'd have to apply for a temporary Visa?'

Small admissions and white lies, they're little things but they're things he's not sure the Waynes' would would want him sharing. Best keep consistent, Eliza would understand. A pain, this would be, but Harry had promised and he wasn't in a position to leave someone in a predicament. The Ministry would take him back and his days with Teddy should be amendable to any contract he set up.

Eliza blinks. 'What?'

'My uncle's a Squib so they're know about magic and I have someone in mind for the work contract, but -'

Eliza raises a hand. 'Wait, stop,' she demands as her expression morphs into something incredulous. 'You - you just decide to spontaneously quit your job and leave home for a job for your - "surrogate uncle"?'

'Everything will still be there when I get back, Zea,' Harry feels the need to point out. In for a penny, in for a pound. 'It's not like I'm giving up a position and I'm not on the career track. It won't interfere with visitation either, so it's not like I'm losing anything.'

Eliza stares at him for a moment. 'And Mom thought you were this crazy homebody.'

Harry's face cools a bit. 'I've done my part. England can survive without me.'

Eliza sighs, rubbing her hands down her face. 'Not remotely what I meant,' she denies in irritation. Her eyes sharpen with focus as they stare at him. 'This is going to take more than ten minutes.'

Right, the healer. 'Do you have anything planned this after this?'

Eliza groaned. 'Not anymore,' she says just in time for there to be a knock at the door. They glance at each other, wordlessly agreeing to put this off. Harry rounds his shoulders as Eliza calls the healer in, a harried looking man in white robes and impatiently fiddling with his wand.

'Head Auror?' the healer prompts.

Eliza gestures to Harry. 'My cousin. Head and possible torso injury.'

The healer blinks and without pause wavs his wand in Harry's direction. His gaze narrows at the readings. 'No Mag treated?' he assumes correctly.

'Yeah,' Harry admits, much to Eliza's exasperation. 'I refused their medication but I wasn't able to get away from the treatment. My potions got destroyed on the trip over and with my head wound, well, I wasn't able to apply a temporary fix.'

'The perp?' Eliza demands.

'Gave me some trouble.' It would be embarrassing ordinarily, the Commander certainly wouldn't find this at all amusing. With his level of training, Acker getting the upper hand shouldn't have happened.

The healer still gives him a dirty look. 'With the - stitches you've been subjected to, I'm unable to properly heal you but I can give you a pain potion.' Harry swallows his derision, often times if aurors turned up to a healer sporting muggle treatments the healer would wash their hands of their patient. From going to Malfoy for so long and having to have emergency treatments before, they had both learnt ways to implement the magic with the muggle, just not everyone bothered.

'That's it?' Eliza certainly doesn't sound impressed but then he'd nearly collapsed on her so go figure. The healer certainly wasn't hiding his unwillingness to help or fulfil his oath either, something Eliza would pick up on.

'I'll take a muscle relaxant, as well,' Harry butts in before the healer can open his mouth. Harry's certainly not going to force someone to treat him. 'And something for my head, if you would. Wouldn't want my report to be illegible, now would we?'

The healer's face scrunches up but he leaves without any verbal protest to gather the requested potions. As soon as the door closes behind him, Harry relaxes back into the cushions with an irritable sigh. 'Harry,' Eliza rebukes. 'You know I'm going to have to report that.'

Harry shrugs one-sidedly. 'Of course, Zea but I'm not about to force someone who can turn me inside out to administer healing.' The attitude was unfortunately common, especially with the DMLE and outside spending more and more time in the muggle world.

Harry, himself, had almost lost both his hearing and his ear on his left side; the scar on the nape was certainly still visible after he'd been ambushed just outside London. He'd woken up inside Royal London Hospital, taking up one of their trauma beds. He'd been handcuffed to the side since he'd been surrounded by the bodies of his attackers, but he'd managed to get in contract with his auror supervisor to handle the situation. Not long after he'd been transferred to St Mungo's where he'd gone on to receive not the best care. The bigotry and supposed superiority was obvious and it wasn't about to be fixed any time soon.

'I'm sorry,' Eliza sighs and she looks more tired than ever as she slumps. 'I can handle everything you need for you to work in America on a temporary basis. As the head of our branch family it gives you legitimacy to attain a joint citizenship if you wanted to appeal for that, but…'

Harry's already shaking his head. 'That's a bit - drastic, I don't think we have to go that far for this job. Besides, I can't imagine what the media would print.'

Eliza snorts. 'You let them get away with far too much. I'd sue for slander if they had printed a tenth about me as they have you, fucking parasites.'

'We don't have that type of recourse in England yet.' Wizarding Britain, at least. The muggles at least understood that the media shouldn't be able to print anything they wanted just to sell a headline, even if they could be just as bad.

Eliza makes a show of rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms. 'I'll be your sponsor, regardless. Or - well, Dad may get 'll help you, anyway. You understand though, that on the terms of your Visa, you'd be subject to the laws of this country. The Ministry wouldn't be able to protect you from anything serious.'

'Zea,' Harry admonishes lightly. 'Just what do you think I'll be getting up to?'

'You're a few explosions too late to play the whole innocent thing off successfully, cousin,' Eliza states.

'Drat,' Harry sighs mournfully.

'Harry.'

'I'll remember.' Harry holds up his hands but her ire clings to her. 'It's a muggle job, Zea. Not even I can complicate this -'

'Wanna bet?'

Harry pouts. 'Have a little faith would you? I haven't even started and I already feel like you're waiting for something to go wrong.'

'Oh I have faith,' Eliza says but it sounds like a threat. One that Harry blissfully ignores. 'two-hundred gallons that your luck plays out like it usually does.'

Harry narrows his eyes. 'You're on.'

Con/Textual Vomit: Ahhhhhh yes! Setting some stuff in here. Forgive the OCs. Eliza's based on canon though, if that helps anyway. Abraham Potter was one of the first aurors out of twelve for President Jackson so, yeah. Harry also needed a point of contact for the inevitable crazy that's going to occur (and yeah, he's losing those gallons). I like the idea of the Potter's having branch families that have established themselves as independent in other countries. Why didn't they come for Harry? Couldn't risk a international incident and Dumbledore.

We're getting more down to business in the next chapter. With the contract, primarily. Ugh once I've properly set this stuff up than the pacing should be better, I tagged this as "snapshots" for a reason haha. (I have so many notes, so many now. All the way to Jason muhwahaha. I'm really excited :3)

Originally uploaded: 29/06/18

Oz