5Alright this is my first fic and essentially its a fusion of the tv show Burn Notice and the Harry Potter series, any suggestions on what I can do to improve would be appreciated. Oh and the standard disclaimer, I own nothing except for the plot of this fic.
Burn Notice
My name is Harry Potter, and I used to be an Unspeakable until...
It's too bloody hot in this damn country, Harry thought as he strode towards the front doors of the Fairbanks Motel. As he stepped through the door, a rush of cool hit washed over him and he relished in it for a moment. As he stopped he thought about his assignment and why he was in this country. Ghana is a bleeding hellhole, he thought, walking towards the front desk. A young woman who couldn't have been more than twenty years old sat at the front desk, looking decidedly bored, and perked up noticeably when he approached her. Harry took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the pocket of his grey suit jacket.
She spoke with almost no trace of the local accent. "Good afternoon sir, can I be of service today?"
Harry glanced down at her name tag and then grinned charmingly at her. "Why yes, you can, Alala; my name is Andrew Thompson and I am supposed to meet an associate of mine, a Mr. Anthony Devonshire, but I seem to have forgotten what room he's in and it's very important that I get to this meeting on time. Could you do me a small favor and tell me the room number?"
She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear and shyly glanced down. "I really shouldn't sir, it's against the rules."
He looked at her in the eyes and smiled. "Please, Alala. It's very important that I'm not late."
She blushed and looked down at the computer in front of her.
"...Well, alright. Just give me a minute." She typed something into the computer and said, "Ah here we go, he's in room 319, the elevators are down the hallway to the left Mr. Thompson."
"Thank you, Alala."
Harry walked over to the elevator and got in. The elevator appeared at first to be empty, but as he stepped inside he felt the tip of a wand dig into his side and he heard a rough, gravelly voice say from behind him, "You're late, Mr. Thompson; and Mr. Devonshire does not appreciate tardiness. I will escort you to him and if you try anything funny you'll be having a little accident."
Harry stood perfectly still as his yet unseen guard dug the wand between his ribs, while the elevator started its journey up to the third floor.
"Now I want you to very slowly take your wand and put it on the floor in front of you."
Slowly, Harry reached inside the left sleeve of his jacket and pulled out his wand. When it hit the floor of the elevator he heard a swish of fabric, and in his pereiphereal vision he saw two men appearing out of nowhere in the elevator with him. Goon number one quickly retrieved Harry's wand and tucked it into his back pocket.
"You know, people have lost their butt cheeks doing that," Harry said with a little smirk. Number one looked uncomfortable and quickly shifted the wand to his front pocket. Harry's smirk widened. "Do you want to guess what they lost doing that?"
He looked decidedly uncomfortable now and quickly shifted the wand to his off hand, glaring at the still smirking Harry. Goon number two, on his left, smirked at him as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. The wand in his side dug in a little harder. "Move." The three moved down the hallway until they arrived at room 319.
Goon number one knocked on the door and a muffled voice from the other side asked who it was. "It's us, boss, and we brought Potter."
There was a click and the door swung open, but before Harry could take another step, another wand was shoved in his face.
"You know, if I didn't know better I'd almost think that you lot didn't trust me," he said.
A voice carried out from further back in the room. "They said you had a smart mouth, Mr. Thompson."
Harry was herded into the room, ; inside were three more men, two of them standing on either side of the third who sat in a rolling chair, near a table in the center of the room with two more chairs. Anthony Devonshire was a man of average height with brown hair and blue eyes and he spoke with just the slightest hint of an Irish brogue. He was simply a very average looking individual, which made it all the more remarkable that he was head of the business for one of the largest magical crime syndicates in all of Europe. Anthony gestured at one of the chairs in front of him and said, "If we could get down to business Mr. Thompson, my time is far too valuable to waste here much longer."
Harry nodded obligingly as he went to sit down. "Of course."
The crimeboss snapped his fingers; one of the men behind him retrieved a briefcase from a desk in the corner of the room and passed it to him.
He put the briefcase down on the table and flipped it open. Inside was an assortment of pieces of various magical beasts. A dragon's claw, hippogriffs' feather's, lethifold skin and other heavily restricted potion and wand ingredients.
"This is but a sample, Mr. Thompson. After we receive payment, full shipment will begin."
"How soon can we expect shipment of the merchandise to begin?"
"Within the week."
Mr. Devonshire reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small white crystal, which he showed to Harry. "This is one of the newer models of Gringotts transaction crystals."
Anthony placed his hand on the crystal; it flashed blue once and then went back to white. He slid it back towards Harry and stared at him expectantly. Harry outstretched his palm and placed it on the crystal, but when he did, instead of blue it glowed a deep red.
He stared at the crystal in surprise and moved his hand over the top of the crystal again—and once again it glowed red. Devonshire's henchmen grew tense and drew their wands.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Thompson?" Anthony asked with far more than a hint of annoyance.
"No, of course not, there must just be a slight bit of confusion, if you would give me just a moment with my associates, I'm sure we can straighten this out with a minimum of difficulty." Harry stood up and moved to a corner of the room, with two of the hired muscle following him, and he withdrew a two -way mirror from under his shirt. A hooded face appeared in the mirror.
Harry leaned in and whispered, "Croaker, what is going on? My payment transfer isn't going through and I need you to fix it quick because these guys are getting really damn twitchy!"
Croaker didn't speak for a moment and then replied, "It isn't going to go through, Harry."
Harry was stunned. "What do you mean, it isn't going to go through? Croaker, this is not the time."
The man on the other side spoke clearly and concisely.
"It isn't going to go through because it's not allowed to. There's a burn notice out on you, Harry. Goodbye." The face disappeared and the line went dead.