The following morning — 9:11 AM — Mid-Wilshire Police Station
The station’s meeting room was in full use a rare occurrence outside of major operations.
The blinds were partially closed, the light streaming in in thin strips, casting long shadows on the rectangular table.
Seated around were:
Captain Zoe Anderson, at the head of the table
Sergeant Wade Grey, arms crossed, posture relaxed but alert
Angela Lopez, leaning forward, elbows on the table
Tim Bradford, leaning back in his chair, shoulder still sensitive
Talia Bishop, leaning against the wall, observing everything in silence
And, seated between Zoe and Wade, someone who wasn’t part of that ecosystem:
Jessica Russo — FBI.
She wore a dark blazer, light shirt, her hair neatly tied back.
Her FBI badge was visible, resting on the table, next to a tablet.
“Thank you for receiving us with such short notice,” Jessica said, her voice firm and professional.
“I know Mid-Wilshire isn’t usually our first line of support.”
Zoe nodded.
“Normally not,” she replied.
“So I imagine this isn’t routine.”
Jessica tilted her head slightly.
“It isn’t.”
She touched the tablet screen and projected some images onto the room’s monitor: maps, blurred faces, arrows indicating movement.
“We’re conducting a federal operation involving an international trafficking network operating in Los Angeles, London, and Marseille,” she explained.
“We need discreet local support.
Patrols that know how to operate outside the visible norm.”
Tim frowned.
“The FBI asking for local patrol support…” he commented.
“That’s unusual.”
“I agree,” Jessica replied.
“But this network has already demonstrated that it knows federal protocols.
We need eyes they aren’t expecting.”
Angela crossed her arms.
“—And why Mid-Wilshire?” he asked.
Jessica offered a small, controlled smile.
“—Because you have a resource that doesn’t appear on the organizational charts.”
Wade raised an eyebrow.
“—I like it when federal agents talk in riddles,” he commented.
Zoe remained focused.
“—Be direct, Agent Russo.”
“—Consultant Russo,” Jessica corrected.
“—I’m temporarily assigned.”
She took a deep breath.
“—One of our targets has operated in the UK for years,” she continued.
“—We need someone who understands European dynamics, joint operations, and grey diplomatic games.”
Silence fell for a moment.
Talia was the first to notice.
“—She’s not talking about us,” she said calmly.
Before Zoe could respond, the door to the room opened.
“—Sorry I’m late,” said a familiar voice.
“—I was called by the captain.”
Harry Potter entered.
Impeccable uniform.
Neutral posture.
Calm expression.
His eyes quickly scanned the room… and stopped.
Right on her.
Jessica Russo.
For a second, no words were spoken.
Then Harry smiled.
A real smile, rare, completely outside the professional register everyone knew.
“…Hey, Jess,” he said casually.
The effect was immediate.
Angela turned sharply to him.
Tim blinked.
Wade tilted his head.
Zoe frowned.
Jessica, for her part, was visibly surprised.
“Harry?” she said, jumping up.
“Harry James Potter?”
“The one and only,” he replied.
And then, to the absolute shock of the entire room, Jessica stepped across the space between the table and hugged him.
“You son of a bitch…” she said, laughing softly.
“I knew that name wasn’t a coincidence.”
Harry returned the hug, brief and respectful.
“Long time no see,” he said.
“London… 2013?”
“Operation Black Meridian,” she replied immediately.
“You disappeared after that.”
They stepped apart.
The silence was now deafening.
Angela was the first to speak.
“…Did I miss something important here?”
Tim looked from Harry to Jessica as if trying to recalculate an impossible equation.
“You two…” he began, “know each other?”
Jessica was still smiling, but now she understood the atmosphere.
“Ah,” she said.
“Right.
Context.”
She returned to her chair, sitting down again.
“Harry and I worked together on an FBI operation in London,” she explained.
“He was… on loan.”
Wade let out a short laugh.
“On loan.” Of course.
Zoe fixed her gaze on Harry.
“Mr.
Potter…” she began.
“Captain,” Harry interrupted respectfully.
“Authorized by the time.
All within the bilateral agreements.”
Jessica nodded.
“I confirm,” she said.
“He saved an entire cell of our agents from being exposed.”
Angela’s eyes widened.
“He what?”
Jessica tilted her head.
“You really didn’t know who you had here, did you?”
Talia crossed her arms slowly.
“We were starting to put the puzzle together.”
Tim rested his elbow on the table.
“So let me guess…” he said.
“This ‘FBI operation in London’ wasn’t exactly bureaucratic.”
Jessica gave a half-smile.
“Let’s just say it was… off the beaten track.”
Zoe took a deep breath.
— Russian Agent… — she said — you came to ask for support from Mid-Wilshire.
— Yes.
— Jessica replied.
— And clearly already knew he was here,” Zoe continued.
Jessica didn’t deny it.
“I found out last night,” she said.
“When they cross-referenced the name of the Victoria Cross holder with the LAPD personnel database.”
Everyone looked at Harry.
Angela closed her eyes for a second.
“Of course this was going to happen.”
Harry remained calm.
“It wasn’t planned,” he said.
Jessica leaned forward.
“But it’s convenient,” she added.
Tim narrowed his eyes.
“You came here because of him.”
“Partially,” Jessica replied.
“I came because the FBI needs local support.
But…” she looked at Harry, “knowing he’s here changes the level of the operation.”
Wade rested his hands on the table.
“In what sense?”
Jessica took a deep breath.
“Because this network…” she said, “has crossed paths with him before.”
Silence returned.
Angela turned to Harry.
“Do you want to tell us this now… or later?”
Harry held her gaze.
“Now is better.”
He turned to Zoe.
“Captain, with your permission.”
Zoe nodded slowly.
“Go ahead.”
Harry took a deep breath.
“One of the FBI’s targets operated as a financial intermediary for extremist cells in the Middle East,” he said.
“I met him twice.
Once in London.
Once in Istanbul.”
Jessica confirmed with a nod.
“He knows Harry,” she said.
“And respects him.
Or fears him.”
Tim exhaled slowly.
“Great,” he murmured.
“Exactly the kind of thing nobody wanted to hear before coffee.”
Angela rested her hands on the table.
“So the FBI wants Mid-Wilshire…” she said, “and wants Harry Potter.”
Jessica was direct.
“Yes.”
Zoe crossed her arms.
“That will still be decided by me.”
Jessica nodded.
“As it should be.”
She looked at Harry again, now with a more personal tone.
“Are you alright?” she asked softly.
Harry smiled slightly.
“Just trying to be a police officer.”
Jessica shook her head, amused and serious at the same time.
“You were never ‘just’ anything, Harry.”
The atmosphere was heavy.
Past.
Present.
Future.
Zoe lightly patted the table.
“Very well,” she said.
“Let’s take a five-minute break.”
She looked at Harry.
“Mr.
Potter… stay.”
Everyone stood up slowly, exchanging silent glances.
When the room emptied, only Zoe Anderson, Jessica Russo, and Harry Potter remained.
Zoe crossed her arms.
“It seems your past has a special talent for catching up with us,” she said.
Harry nodded.
“It always has.”
Jessica watched the two of them.
“Captain…” he said, “I understand your reservations.”
“I hope you do,” Zoe replied.
Jessica took a deep breath.
“But if there’s anyone capable of keeping this operation clean…” she looked at Harry, “it’s him.”
Zoe was silent for a moment.
“Then we’ll see,” she said finally.
She stared at Harry.
“Welcome to the federal level, recruit.”
Harry allowed himself a small, tired smile.
“I thought you’d left that behind.”
Jessica chuckled softly.
“Nobody ever does, Harry.”
And in that instant, everyone in Mid-Wilshire began to realize an inescapable truth:
Harry Potter wasn’t just someone trying to start over.
He was someone whose past continued to be sought after even when all he wanted to do was patrol ordinary streets.
pat/SHADOWGHOST07
Full story over there