Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the brisk September air of London, Tony Stark stepped out of the vehicle, feeling the chill seeping through his suit. He was attending another event that was a necessity. An obligation as the heir to Howard Stark’s legacy. However, this legacy, damned as it may be, required more of him, than just escaping into a haze of alcohol and fleeting encounters that he would often seek.

Tony was not looking forward to the evening, spending time around pretentious people who believed themselves superior. He especially dreaded the company of those who expected him to be his father or the people who thought he should find a good woman, settle down, and start a family. Just so he could be a screw-up of a father like his own.

After entering the building, Tony shrugged off his outer coat, revealing a three-piece black suit with a red handkerchief peeking out his breast pocket. He quickly noticed admiring glances from younger women and the few older married ones. However, he wanted nothing to do with them. He was just here to make a few substantial donations to the various charities, and then he planned on quickly getting drunk before catching his flight home.

It was later in the evening, that Tony found himself approaching the bar after signing off a few checks and doing the bare minimum of socializing required at these events. He noticed a pretty red-headed woman sitting at the bar, who seemed to be ‘enjoying’ the evening as much as he was. Deciding he might as well have some fun this evening, he takes the open seat next to her and orders a drink. With a not-so-subtle turn, he began to strike up a conversation with her. After spending the remainder of the night talking to the beautiful redhead, Lily, Tony felt a strong connection and wanted to invite her over. The conversation had been pleasant, and Tony thought they had really hit it off, wanting to leave with her. Suddenly, Lily turned and motioned for a man to come over. Tony’s curiosity piqued as he watched the man approach. Lily turned back to Tony, gave him a once over, and smiled. Which left him intrigued and a little uncertain about what might come next.

The man walked up behind Lily and placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes full of promise. Lily then proceeded to introduce the man, James, as her husband. Tony's heart sank at the realization that this beautiful woman was already taken and that the couple wanted something he wasn't interested in. Not that Tony didn't go both ways. He just drew the line at a threesome, and he didn't like to do both genders at the same time. He decided to wait and see if his assumptions were correct; it wouldn't be the first time someone had asked something absurd of him.

Lily looked almost hesitant before speaking again to Tony. Summoning up her courage, she explained that she and James had been married for the last year and a half, but they were unable to have any children due to an incident James had had in his last years of high school. She had then gone on about how James was from an old lordship family, and if they had a child that didn't resemble him, their child would not have an easy life, or an inheritance. Pausing, Lily realized that she had been telling him the whole story, James had remained silent the whole time besides nodding in agreement. She looked over at James, realizing the gravity of what she was asking for, and the two shared a moment. With desperation, James mustered up the courage, his pride be damned, to ask Tony if he would be willing to donate his genetic material. Because of the similar features the two men shared, they hoped that this would be a solution to their predicament.

Tony was ready to decline their request, not wanting a child of his own running around. However, the desperation and hope in the couple's eyes made it impossible for him to refuse. Tony agreed to donate his sperm and ensured the process would be purely scientific, with no physical conception involved. He had a few conditions before agreeing, such as sending him a photo of the child and the child's name once born. He also asked that when the child turns 21, and if he had no children, he wanted the option to meet this child and potentially offer a role in his company, assuming he had no one else he could trust to take over. Even if Tony did have his own children, he still wished to meet the child on their 21st birthday, but only as an old family friend.

While the couple seemed reluctant about the prospect of the child potentially taking over Tony's company. He reassured them that it wouldn't be forced upon the child and that he would likely have someone to take over anyway. Despite their initial hesitation, the couple agreed to Tony's terms.

After that evening, Tony and the Potters, as he later discovered, only met up one other time. It was when Tony came to hand over the infamous cup to them, wishing them well and the best of luck with the pregnancy. Unknowingly to him, the Potters had written in their wills, once their ball of sunshine was born, Harry James Anthony Potter, should anything happen to them, that Tony was to be contacted and Harry to be put into his care. A week after Harry's birth, Tony received an image of Lily and James holding a tiny baby in their arms, on the back read Harry's name and his date of birth, July 31st, 2000.

Sadly, after the tragic events of Halloween in 2001, Lily and James’s wills remained unopened due to a certain someone's interference. Harry was sent off to live with Lily’s remaining family. He found himself in a household where he was unwelcome and unloved. Growing up with the Dursleys, Harry had to endure verbal, mental, and emotional abuse, and he was occasionally faced with physical abuse. He grew up being bullied by his own cousin and was forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs at 4 Privet Drive.

At the age of 11, Harry discovered that he was a wizard and received an invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There, he was sorted into Gryffindor's house. Harry spent his first year facing many challenges, like battling trolls and possessed teachers, hiding dragons, forging friendships with Ron and Hermione, and developing a rivalry with Draco Malfoy.

For the last 11 years, Tony had been wasting away in a haze of alcohol and casual encounters when he wasn't stuck in his workshop, inventing weapons or other things. However, that all changed when he was kidnapped and forced into building his own weapons for terrorists. With shrapnel threatening his heart and kept alive with a makeshift contraption involving a car battery, his life changed forever.

Upon freeing himself from captivity, Tony vowed to cease all weapon production at his company. Instead, he pushed forward with a new purpose, dedicating himself to becoming the hero known as Iron Man.

The year that Harry entered his second year of schooling, marked a significant year for both him and Tony. Across the Atlantic in America, Tony alongside The Avengers, dealt with the threat of Loki, and the Chitauri’s invasion of New York. Following the attack, Tony realised that he needed to get his priorities in order. He instructed Jarvis to monitor for any mentions of Lily, James, and Harry, or any other individuals connected to them.

Meanwhile, Harry embarked on his second year of school. He continued to face challenges, like confronting a basilisk, and rescuing Ron’s younger sister, Ginny, from dying at the hands of the manifestation of Tom Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort.

Returning to Kings Cross station, at the end of his second year, Harry felt sick throughout the train ride, he was not looking forward to spending the summer with the Dursleys. It was all for the greater good, as he had once heard Dumbledore say to McGonagall one day in passing.

Upon being collected by his so-called family. He was surprised to see them all in the car, however, any shock he had, dissipated when he noticed the abundance of shopping bags loaded in the back seat next to Dudley. He was made to sit in the trunk of the car with his oversized school trunk.

It was on this trip home, that they were T-boned by a drunk driver and rushed to the hospital. It would be considered a tragedy by most, however, to Harry it wasn't. Vernon had died on impact, and Petunia was rushed into operation. She was eventually put in the ICU ward. Dudley had been lucky to only be left with a broken arm and leg, and a few fractured ribs. As he had been saved from the worst due to Harry’s magic.

Harry himself was covered in bruises and had cracked a good rib or two, as well as a broken arm, from being smashed into the side of his school trunk, his magic had protected him from death. The two boys had been admitted into a General Hospital room, but Aunt Marge had been quick to fetch Dudley and leave Harry behind. She hadn't spoken to him besides claiming he was to blame him for the accident or tell him he deserved every injury he had. It was not one day later that Jarvis notified Tony of a hit on Harry had come up in his search.

Chapter Text

“Sir” Jarvis’s voice cut off the music that filled Tony’s lab in the Avengers tower. However, Tony remained engrossed in his work for the company, oblivious to the interruption. “Sir?” Jarvis persisted, knowing that Tony would be listening regardless of his lack of response. “I seem to have a hit on one of the names you asked me to monitor last year.”

Tony paused what he was doing, turning to give Jarvis his full attention. He gestured for the AI to display the information he had uncovered. A holographic screen materialized before Tony, with a newspaper article about a recent car crash. The headline had Tony feeling anxious before he even read the first line, but as he started to read the article, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The only fatality so far was an older man.

As Tony read on, he felt empathy for the wife, who was unaware of her husband’s passing, as she was in a coma in the ICU ward. He was wondering why Jarvis was showing him this, he said he had flagged something about the Potters. It wasn’t until his eyes landed on a crucial piece of information that he understood. One of the two boys that were in the crash, and one shared a name with Tony’s biological son, Harry Potter.

“Jarvis! What about Harry’s parents? Why was he with other people? Is he the son of James and Lily?” Tony fired off his questions to Jarvis in a moment of panic, fearing the worst. That both James and Lily had passed away and he had never known. He would have been able to help the kid back then.

“In an article from 2001, it details the home murder of a James and Lily Potter, and that their one-year-old son was sent to live with a close relative, Lily’s biological sister, Petunia Dursley, Sir,” Jarvis responded. Another article appeared before Tony, this one looking like it had been scanned before being uploaded online, as some words weren’t clearly visible. Tony skimmed over the content of the article, noting that not much detail was given about the incident other than the couple being found dead in their house on the morning of November first, 2001. It was presumed to be a murder despite the lack of any wounds, and their one-year-old had been put into the care of his aunt.

This was THE Lily and James he had helped all those years ago.

Tony stepped back in shock. He knows that the three of them had never explicitly discussed about what would happen to Harry if anything happened to them. And it probably never came out that Harry was his son, but he should have known, this was his son. He might not have been father material, and he probably still isn’t, but he never wanted to just leave his child be. It was already 2013, their deaths had happened almost 12 years ago, and he had no clue.

Tony’s brain was already starting to turn on how to get the kid into his care, but first, he needed to ensure Harry received the best treatment possible.

“Jarvis, I want you to contact the hospital where Harry is staying and get him into a private room, the best one available. Also, make sure all of Harry’s medical fees are paid by me personally, not the company. I don’t want anyone, especially Pepper, to get wind of this. She might make things more complicated than they need to be,” Tony instructed as he made his way out of his lab and headed to the elevator to take him to his private floor. “Jarvis, make sure you arrange for a DNA test at the same hospital Harry is currently at. Make sure to get samples from both Harry and me, I want them done quickly. And make sure the London apartment is ready for us to stay in. How long is the quickest flight to London?”

“The quickest flight to London is approximately seven hours, Sir?” Jarvis replied, “Must I ready the private jet?”

“No, I want this flight to be incognito, and I know the company tracks my jet, make sure you book first class.”

“I will begin making all the necessary arrangements immediately. I have notified the hospital of the changes, and they are to be made immediately.”

Tony nodded his head; his mind was racing. He had to get to London as soon as possible, and make sure Harry was taken care of. This was his responsibility, and he wouldn’t fail his son again.

The elevator came to a halt, and before Tony could step out, he realized it wasn’t his floor. The doors dinged open, and a sweaty Steve Rogers walked in, who had clearly just finished working out in the training area situated above the labs and below the living quarters.

“You look like you’re thawing out there, Capsicle. Careful, otherwise you might just melt!” Tony commented as Steve entered.

“I’m not so sure it’s me who should be worried. You’re not looking so good yourself, Tony. Anything the team should be concerned about?” Steve asked, noticing the unusual tension in Tony’s demeanour.

“Nothing that needs the Avengers’ help, just some personal problems I need to deal with." Tony paused for a moment, contemplating whether to confide in Steve. He normally kept his secrets close, as he had learnt not to trust others. However, this was Captain America he was speaking to, and if anyone could keep a secret it was Steve Rogers, as long as it didn’t go against the law.

“I have a kid in London, and before you anything, I’ve known about him since before he was born. I helped out a couple, about 13 years ago, who couldn’t have kids because the guy was in some kind of accident in school.” Tony clarified, expecting Steve to question the legitimacy of his child. “The kid was in a car accident the other day, and his parents have been dead for a few years now, and I don’t know why I was never notified of their death.

“I’ve had Jarvis looking for them since the invasion last, and I finally know where my kid is. I’m heading to London as soon as I can to go see him and get custody. I might be gone for a while. Might be a few weeks to a couple of months.”

“Are you going with Pepper?” Steve asked.

“She’d only make things more difficult than they need to be. She’d want to do a press release immediately, and I think the kid and I are going to need some time to get to know each other. Plus, she’s here to run the business not to micromanage my life.”

“Tony, I don’t think this is something you should be doing alone.” Oh, Tony knew damn well he shouldn’t be doing this alone, but Pepper was off the list, and he didn’t really have anyone else on the list besides Rhodey, and he was probably busy.

“I know, Cap, but I’m just going to have to.” Tony sighed.

“I’ll go with you,” Steve said, concerned for his teammate. “I’m not going to leave you with a kid who’s just been in an accident, let alone the two of you trying to figure out how to move forward. Let me come with you,” Steve pleaded. “I can help out when needed, and on the bonus, I can learn more about this world.” He said firmly, he definitely wasn’t going to let Tony handle this on his own.

“Okay,” Tony sighed, “I’m not going to argue on this, because honestly, I need someone to do this with me. Jarvis will let you know when we are leaving, so pack your bags, and make sure your saggy bottom is there.” Tony joked as the elevator came to a stop and Steve got off.

“Will do Tony, and I’ll let you know my bottom isn’t saggy. I’ve heard it’s America’s ass.” Steve chuckled, leaving a stunned Tony by himself as the door to the elevator closed.

Tony chuckled, and continued going up to his floor before continuing his list of things to do with Jarvis as he exited the elevator. He could have sworn it had slowed down when Cap got on.

“Jarvis inform Pepper that I won’t be available for the next few weeks due to personal issues, and that I’ll be in London. Let her know that I’ll explain everything as soon as I can. And if you haven’t already, book another seat for the flight tomorrow.” Tony entered his room, getting ready to pack the essentials, everything else could be brought there.

“Jarvis, also, arrange for someone to redo one of the guest rooms on my floor, in some neutral colours, Harry can decide on colours later. And make sure it’s more child-friendly, no naked portraits or anything like that. Make sure they sign a non-disclosure agreement.” He would hold back on the ideas he had for the room; it wasn’t going to be his anyways.

“Will do, sir. Would you like me to arrange a full wardrobe for everyone, so you don’t have to worry about packing clothes?”

“Good thinking J, I knew that there was a reason that you’re my favourite A.I.”

“Sir, I am your only A.I.” Jarvis replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Tony quickly packed up any tech he might need to take with him, and some things that could not be brought there. He created a list of things he would need to work on over there and any documents he could go over on the plane, he wanted to avoid a lecture from Pepper about work ethics again.

He would also need to start researching schools over here and build a strong case for Harry to move to America with him, he didn’t know what life his child had. He didn’t know how difficult that might be, but he was determined to make it work.

Tony knew he needed to get some sleep. It was already nearing eleven PM, and he would be losing about half a day on the plane. If the plane was to take off around 11 AM, they would arrive near 6 PM. Meaning he would have to wait until the next day to visit the hospital.

The next morning, Tony met Steve in the elevator, both heading to the same destination. They shared a silent car ride to the airport. He had elected not to get Happy to take him, too many questions.

Tony was half-awake, not having had his morning coffee yet, and had yet to become a functioning human being. Steve sat silently reading a book, glancing at Tony occasionally to check on him. At the airport, there was a brief argument from Steve about flying first class, but Tony’s glare quickly ended that discussion.

They boarded their plane just shy of 11 AM and settled into their respective seats, keeping themselves busy. Tony only started talking after his morning coffee, despite it almost being the afternoon, and much to Steve’s amusement. They still had to be up early with New York traffic. Once they were in the air, they didn’t talk much.

After landing just after 6 PM, or 11 pm local time, they grabbed some takeaways from one of the many places at the airport and headed to Tony’s apartment. They arrived feeling a bit sticky from the flight, it was summer, even if it was London. The apartment was spotless, and the kitchen was stocked with food, despite the fact that neither of them really cooked.

“Tony, isn’t this a bit much? The grandness of your home is overwhelming, especially for something you don’t use often.” Steve remarked, feeling a bit out of place from the amount of luxury.

“Ole fellow, I’ve had this apartment for a long time. This is where I stay if I have to be in the UK for some reason.” Tony shrugged it off. They both went their separate ways after that, bidding each other good night. They agreed that Steve would stay behind while Tony went to the hospital the next day.

Chapter Text

Harry sat alone in the hospital room feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. Dudley had left with Aunt Marge this morning, as soon as visiting hours began. As usual, Marge had made him feel even more like a freak and failure, blaming him for the accident and damning him to hell and back for Uncle Vernon’s death.

Harry couldn’t help but think, ‘Good riddance.’ Uncle Vernon had caused him nothing but pain for as long as he could remember. He knew it was not right to think that way, but after living in fear for so long, it was relieving to not have to worry about being thrown into a cupboard without food or being hit with a belt.

Despite everything, Harry was a bit worried about Aunt Petunia. He didn’t like her, at all, but she was his mother’s sister. Dumbledore had said he needed to stay with her for the protection he gets from the blood wards from his mother’s death, though Harry had doubts about that. After overhearing Dumbledore talk to McGonagall, he wasn’t sure how much of it was true.

He couldn’t understand why Dumbledore had refused his begging to stay at Hogwarts over the summer, especially with him knowing about the abuse. So, forgive him for being resentful of the old coot, with everything being labelled “for the greater good.” Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place on Earth, but his first two years had been spent battling or figuring out some danger. Even as a twelve-year-old, he could see that it wasn’t right.

Going back to what was happening around him, he was confused, to say the least. A nurse had come in a few minutes ago to tell him he was being moved to a new, private ward. He was baffled as to why. Who would do something like that, especially for a “freak” like him.

He was glad to be moving, though. The only other person in the room was an old man, who kept asking intrusive questions, on why Marge had said what she did. Not that he answered those questions. He had never liked talking to strangers; they always said weird things. Mostly from people he hadn’t known were wizards before Hogwarts. Always thanking him for things he couldn’t remember about the night his parents died. He only knew that it had landed him with the Dursleys.

“Harry Potter?” A nurse called as she walked into the room. Harry hadn’t seen her before and wondered why the friendly nurse from earlier hadn’t come again.

“That’s me,” He responded softly.

“I’m here to move you to your new room. You’ll be moved to one of our private wards, and I’ll be your personal nurse for however long you are here. You may call me Nurse Laura or simply Laura.” She explained.

“Also, on Monday, a man will be coming to see you, as well as another doctor you haven’t met yet, and a few tests will be done.” She kindly informed him.

“Now, in the report of your injuries, nothing indicated that you couldn’t walk, but you have signs of being severely malnourished, and we don’t want to take any chances. So, a wheelchair is on its way over so I can move you without the concern of injuring yourself further.”

“Ah, okay.” Harry replied, though he knew he could walk perfectly okay. He had navigated Hogwarts without any problems, although he often got tired. However, he didn’t want to argue with the nurse. They were supposed to know what was best for his health, probably better than Dumbledore ever could.

“Tomorrow, someone from the childcare services will come around. They’ll be here to ask you a few questions about your home situation and any possible negligence. I’ve heard that your uncle has already passed away. If there are any signs of negligence, then we will do our best to make sure you don’t have to go back.

“Although, I don’t think there will be any problems with that, especially with that certain man coming on Monday, and the tests we have been asked to do.” The nurse told him.

“Who is coming over, and what tests are being done?” He sure hoped it wasn’t Dumbledore.

“I would love to tell you who is coming over, but I have signed an NDA.” Laura sighed, “Don’t worry no one bad, just a lot of press around him, and I can understand why he doesn’t want this to get out if the tests are positive or false.

“As for the tests, I am allowed to share that they are simple DNA tests for you and himself. I think the results will be quite pleasing, considering how confident the man is about the outcome.” Laura finished just as someone rolled in an empty wheelchair. “Alright, your ride is here.”

Harry nodded his head, carefully getting out of the bed with Laura’s help and settled into the wheelchair. As they journeyed up the hospital, into a more secure and private section, a few floors up, he noticed the difference immediately. The area was more homier looking than the sterile white and blue room he had come from.

“The nurses had a good laugh when the mysterious man said he would pay for everything. Americans always seem to forget that we have free health care. However, our private suites are not free. They are for high-status patients or for those willing to pay and wanting added luxuries while getting treatment.” She told him as they made their way into one of the rooms.

As they entered the room, his breath was taken away, by a hospital room no less. He could fit the Dursley’s entire lounge and maybe even their kitchen in there. There was a window on the opposite side of the room from where they had come from, that reached both the floor and ceiling. The wall cut across diagonally before cutting back to the wall; there was a door there, leading into a bathroom.

There was a bit of space after that, where there was a shelf built into the wall with a vase of yellow tulips. The hospital bed was close to the wooden area where the shelf sat, it was shaped like an upside-down L, and the pattern flowed through onto the ceiling. Some curtains ran around the edge of the wood but were drawn open at the moment. The bed lay in the middle of that space.

The frame of the bed was like that of all hospital beds, but was of better quality, the mattress looked thicker and way softer than the bed he had just been on. The sheets on it looked so warm. There was a carpeted area under the bed, but the rest of the floor was wooden. A sink sat in a granite counter on the same wall that led outside the room, with a painting of a sunny beach above it. Opposite the bed was a sitting area with two armchairs and a coffee table.

The room was modern, done in monochromatic themes of beiges, a completely different style from what Harry was used to. He was used to the old-fashioned traditional furniture at Hogwarts or the second-hand run-me-downs that were just broken from Dudley. However, he most certainly liked the clean, open feeling that the modern design offered. If only he knew what his future held for him, he would know this wasn’t even a taste of what was to come.

Once he was situated in his new room and left to his own thoughts, he didn’t know what to think of the situation. Who could be paying for the room? He doubted it would be out of the Dursleys’ money, and he doubted that Dumbledore even knew he had been in the accident yesterday. Heck, he didn’t think any wizard would know about him being in a hospital, let alone one that would let him stay here and put him in a private room. They would have moved him to St Mungo’s where they could have fixed him in a few minutes.

Harry wasn’t going to deny that he liked his new room, it made him feel like someone cared for him for once. Even with what the nurse had said about DNA tests with some man she couldn’t name, he doubted that anyone could be related to him outside of the Dursleys and his parents.

He knew that it couldn’t be his grandparents because he had already tried to find his dad’s parents when he got to Hogwarts. He had contacted the Goblins through a letter, only to receive a response that, sadly, his grandparents had died shortly before he was born, of dragon pox.

He had also been informed that he had no living relatives of the Potters that were close enough in blood to take care of him. As well as that his mom’s parents had been killed by Death Eaters shortly after Voldemort’s defeat.

So, he was stuck living with the Dursleys, and there was no possible way someone could take custody of him through blood relation. Unless there was something else that he hadn’t been told about, not that that wasn’t the normal case for him. Always out of the loop.

When nurse Laura came back later to get his lunch order, he asked about his trunk that had been in the car crash with him. He asked if he would be able to get some books to read while he was here, he wasn’t sure if there was anything worthwhile to watch.

Laura told him that she would look into getting his trunk for him, saying that it had likely gone with the car in the tow truck, and she would try and retrieve it for him. Considering it had his initials “H.P.” on it, it should be rather easy. When she came back with his lunch, she brought him a few books, including the first book in the Percy Jackson series, that he had seen some of the muggle-borns read.

Harry spent the rest of the day engrossed in the book, that he had heard so much about, outside of taking breaks to eat and shower, and obviously sleep. It would have been a shame not to enjoy the comfortable bed while he was here.

The following day, after having finished the book, and starting another from the pile he had been given, a kind-looking man, that looked to be at least 1.7 meters tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and brown eyes knocked on his open door.

“Hi Harry, may I come in?” the man asked.

“Uhh, yeah, sure,” Harry replied, he was feeling awkward about meeting so many new people he would probably never see again.

“My name is John Green, and I’m from the child-care services. I’m just going to ask you a few questions. Is it alright if I sit?” Harry nodded, and the man moved one of the chairs to the side of his bed and sat down.

“I wanted to talk to you about your household environment. The doctors have alerted me to some concerning signs, and I would like to know what caused them. Do you think you can answer the questions I am going to ask you?”

“I..I’ll try my best, sir.”

“That’s all I can ask for, and please call me John.” The man, John, said softly, noticing that Harry was fidgeting. It was clear that he was uncomfortable and would rather not talk about it.

“Okay… John.” Harry knew he could do this. All he had to do was tell the truth, but now that the opportunity had presented itself, someone who would actually rescue him, he wasn’t so sure he could. Not after he had been let down by other adults.

“Harry, can you tell me about any time that you felt threatened at home?” All it took was that one question to set Harry off. He told his life story, of living with his aunt and uncle, being bullied by his own cousin, minus all the magical stuff.

By the time John left, he was in shock. He had seen worse cases, in terms of physical abuse, but the amount of emotional, verbal, and mental abuse that twelve-year-old boy had faced was not something he often came across. It was the most difficult to find in abused children, with no physical scars to alert them.

Vernon Dursley could be glad he was dead, otherwise, John would have ensured he didn’t live the rest of his life in peace. He didn’t know what to do about Harry’s aunt, Petunia. She was a tricky case, especially being in a coma, but in all his life, he never thought he would be wishing someone dead. He needed to find the other boy, Dudley, so he could be placed in a better environment, where the people would care about his health and not how his parents had.

Harry was exhausted after having spoken so much. After eating lunch a little later due to John’s visit, a doctor came to swab his cheek for a DNA sample. He had started to dose off while they got what they needed for the tests, once they had left, he fell asleep. He woke up in the early hours of Monday morning, he quickly went to the toilet, then settled back into bed with the book he had started reading the day before, waiting for the day’s events to unfold.

He was disturbed from his reading by a knock on his door. Turning to face, whoever had decided to visit him now. He was met with the face of a man, that looked like the older version of himself, only the man’s eyes were brown, and his chest seemed to glow faintly.

~~~~~

At exactly six a.m., Tony Stark walked into the hospital to have his DNA taken and tested alongside Harry’s. By 6:45, he was standing outside Harry’s door. Through the small window in the door, he could see Harry was absorbed in whatever book he was reading. The boy looked like a miniature version of him, although his hair was longer and more of an untamed mess, a trait Tony knew as a recognizable feature of Stark men.

Tony took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He had faced life-threatening situations, had fought and won many battles. But now, standing outside this door, about to meet this boy who is his son. This was unlike anything he had ever faced before.

Finally building up the courage to knock, he nudged the door open, knocking on it lightly, with the DNA results in his hand. Tony was frozen where he stood as bright emerald-green eyes stared straight into his soul.

Chapter Text

Tony was stuck in the doorway to Harry’s hospital room. The vivid greenness of Harry’s eyes held him in place, a striking reminder of Lily Potter from all those years ago. This was his son. He had known that for a long time, but now he had undeniable proof in his hands that HE was Harry’s biological father. No one could deny him that. No one could take Harry away from him.

Something had shifted inside of him, looking into Harry’s eyes. He felt a sense of completeness, a realization that his life had just gained a new meaning. This child was his, and he honestly had no clue that it would spark such a profound emotion within him. He felt that Harry and himself could face the world together and come out on top. All he could think about were the years he had missed out on because he had never been told about the death of the Potters.

Tony was hesitant, unsure of what to say, where to even start. ‘Hi, I know this sounds crazy, but I’m your real dad.’ Nope, he couldn’t start off like that.

“Um,” Harry said unsurely, “are you going to just stand there?” he called out softly. He didn’t want to be rude, but the man who looked oddly like him had been staring for the last five minutes and it was making him anxious. He really wanted to know if it was just a coincidence that they looked alike, in all but age, or if there was yet again something he hadn’t been told.

“No. Sorry. I just got stuck in my thoughts there. You’re Harry Potter, right? Is it alright if I call you Harry?” Tony was a nervous wreck. This shouldn’t be that difficult, but just seeing the kid sitting there with those big eyes, with a glimmer of hope in them, had him feeling like he was about to sweat an entire river.

“Yeah, you can call me Harry. Uh, do you want to have a seat?” Harry felt very awkward at the moment. He honestly had no idea what to say to this man he didn’t even know. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, but who are you?”

“Right, should have told you that from the start. I’m Tony Stark.” Tony said, trying to steady his nerves. “And I honestly think,” Tony sighed, “the best way to go about this is to just give you the test results.” He handed over the DNA results to Harry, then pulled up a chair next to the bed.

Harry took the paper from the man named Tony, his heart pounding. The top of the page read, ‘DNA Results’. This was going to be interesting, especially given the information he had received from the Goblins. The results contained a bunch of data that he didn’t understand; numbers and letters mixed together, comparisons between his and Tony’s DNA. There were various sections circled and ticked. However, it was the conclusion at the bottom of the paper that caught his eye. It read:

“The results of the test done, on the inquiry of one, Stark, Anthony Edward, shows that there is a 99.98% Paternal match between one Potter, Harry James Anthony, and one Stark, Anthony Edward. This can be concluded to Stark, Anthony Edward being the biological father of Potter, Harry James Anthony.”

Harry was at a loss for words, to say the least. His dad wasn’t his dad, but rather this man in front of him. Everyone had always said he looked like a mini-James Potter, but if James wasn’t even his father, then what did that mean? Harry sat there feeling lost; his whole life was a lie. Tears of frustration were welling up in the corner of his eyes.

Tony sat there watching the kid, he could see he was frustrated, anxious even. He hadn’t stopped watching him since he handed over the results. He saw the confusion give way to a realization and a stillness as he processed the last part. He didn’t understand the frustration though. He knew he should explain everything, but it was probably best to let Harry come to terms with the knowledge first. Damnit, he didn’t know what to do, he could screw this all up before it even began.

“So,” Harry paused. “You’re my father?” He asked after what felt like an eternity of being lost in his own thoughts.

“Yes, I am.” Tony replied. He was determined to answer the questions directly, and not skirt around the truth. That might lead to issues further down the line.

“You knew I was your kid?” Harry’s voice was void, dreading the answer to his question.

“Yes, I’ve known you were my kid since before you were born. I-”

“Then why didn’t you take care of me after they died!” Harry half shouted, his voice filled with anger and hurt.

Tony was stunned. He should have expected this, but it hadn’t fully registered in his brain that Harry might be upset over the same thing that had been haunting him.

“I-” For once in his life, Tony was speechless. He took a deep breath and decided to tell Harry the full story. “Can I tell you the story of how you came to be, without me ever being involved in your life first, and then I can answer your questions?”

“Fine,” Harry bit out, he couldn’t understand, how there could be any excuses, especially for not being there for him.

“Back in 1999, I met Lily and James Potter at some charity event,” Tony began, his voice steady, despite how he was feeling. “I couldn’t remember the name of the event when it happened. I spent most of the night talking to Lily; I thought we had really hit it off. Later, she introduced me to her husband, James. They were having trouble with getting pregnant.

“They said James had been in an accident in high school that had left him unable to have children. Since James and I looked similar, they asked if I could help them out, so I did. It was all done scientifically, IVF, nothing physical, never had that type of relationship with either of them.

“I only saw your parents twice in my life, when I met them and the day at the clinic.” Tony told the kid. Harry looked like he was contemplating everything, trying to process the information. “Your parents and I decided that you would only meet me when you turned twenty-one and everything would then be explained to you,” Tony continued.

“We even decided that you would be given the option to take over my business if I didn’t have someone else to. A few days after your birth, I received a photo of you in Lily’s arms with James beside her. It was a shock when they gave you my name as one of your names. I honestly wasn’t expecting it. I guess they never told anyone about what happened.” Tony paused, giving Harry time to digest it all.

“So, you were never meant to be in my life? Did you not care when they died?” Harry shot back, still a little angry but starting to understand why the results said what they did.

“Harry, I might have never meant to be in your life until you were older. I thought that James and Lily would make excellent parents, but I wasn’t a family man back then. I couldn’t look after myself, let alone a child. As far as I knew, I was just helping out a desperate family.” Tony needed to put that out there before continuing on.

“Now, I don’t know what went into your parents’ will, if they even mentioned me in it, but I wasn’t aware that they had passed away. Last year, after the New York invasion. I started searching for you and your family, I’ve been trying to get my priorities straight. It wasn’t until a few days ago, when the car crash made the news, that I learned of your parents’ tragic death, and that you had been living with your mother’s relatives.”

Harry’s anger had turned from Tony to all the things that had gone wrong in his life. He could have had a better life, being raised by his own father, maybe he could have even avoided thinking he was a freak. His anger built up, as his thoughts spiralled, filling the room with a static charge. His magic built up around the room, the lights flickered, before they burst.

Tony quickly moved to shield Harry from any falling sparks or glass, as they rained down from above. The nurses quickly rushed in to check on them. Once they were deemed okay, they moved Harry into a new room. Tony trailed after them. Harry was in a state of panic, he had seemed okay when the nurses were here, but now that they were alone, the panic seemed to set in.

Watching Harry, Tony knew that it had been his anger that had caused the sudden electrical disturbance. His gut had guided him through countless situations before, and it was telling him the same thing now.

He felt helpless, not knowing exactly how to comfort Harry, but he needed to. He wrapped his arms around his vulnerable child, pulling him closer as he sat on the bed next to him. He gently rubbed Harry’s back, whispering soothing words, telling him that he was safe now and that he wasn’t going anywhere. Tony felt a wetness develop on his chest, realizing that Harry had started to cry softly into it.

It took ten long minutes before Harry calmed down, and Tony couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life this kid had had, to cause such powerful emotions. He had a newfound determination to protect his kid.

“Harry, I’m here. I’ve got you, and I’m never going to leave you,” Tony said softly. “I should’ve stayed in contact with your parents, but I didn’t see it as my right to. Now, though, I want to be your dad, but I don’t want to replace James. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I promise you, I won’t let it go unnoticed anymore. I’ll do my best to protect you. When you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen to everything you have to say.”

Harry gave a weak laugh at Tony’s words, a small but significant sound that gave Tony hope.

“I’ve never been able to trust adults,” Harry said barely above a whisper. “They have never seemed to care or believe me. But, Tony, I honestly hope that I can finally have someone I can go to.” He said with a waver in his voice.

“Maybe one day, I’ll call you Dad, but I don’t feel comfortable with that yet. I have something I need to tell you, but I’m not sure if I can. It’s not just my secret to tell, and it might change the way you see me,” Harry was feeling impossibly overwhelmed. Being in an unfamiliar place wasn’t helping his anxiety.

Tony loosened his hold and gave Harry a reassuring smile. “Why don’t we get out of here and get to know each other better? I’m sure you don’t need to be in a hospital this long for a broken arm.”

“Laura said they still wanted to do some tests on me today,” Harry told Tony. “Not sure for what though.”

“Well then, let me go check what tests they still want to do. And if it’s not too important we can maybe get out of here. Tony said, getting up off of the bed, Harry nodding in agreement. As Tony headed out of the room, Harry’s mind raced with concerns about the Ministry of Magic potentially showing up, like they did when Dobby did magic in the Dursley’s house.

He wondered if he could tell Tony about magic. If Tony was his father, then surely, he’d have the right to know, surely? His thoughts drifted to Hedwig. He had sent her to the Weasleys’ house, but knowing her, she had probably sensed that he was hurt, and would have come looking for him. At least he knew that his trunk was safe, despite not being with him. He should ask Tony if they could fetch it when they left the hospital.

While Harry was lost in his thoughts, Tony approached the small reception area in the private ward. He inquired about the remaining tests that they wanted to run on Harry. They assured him that it was nothing serious or health-related; they merely wanted to study why he was healing so quickly. Tony quickly shot that down, asserting that Harry would not be treated as a lab rat and that they would all be hearing from his attorney.

He quickly signed Harry out of the hospital and settled the expenses. Asking why it wasn’t higher, the nurse sighed at him, muttering under her breath. Explaining that healthcare was free. Walking back to the room, he realized he didn’t have any clothes for Harry to wear. He didn’t know the state of the clothes Harry would have been wearing during the accident. He shrugged off his jacket, intending for Harry to wear it. They would only be heading back to his apartment, after all.

When Tony got back to the room, he saw that his son was deep in thought. Taking a closer look, Tony noticed how much Harry resembled him when he was younger. He was shorter and skinner than he had been, but they shared the same nose and lips. Harry’s lips were on the plumper side, was it kissable lips that people liked to call them? Dang, that was something he was going to have to deal with when Harry got older. His son, dating, that was a whole other can of worms he didn’t want to open.

His nose, while being more button-like, had the same sharp angle as his own. His eyes were entirely his mother’s, big and round, unlike his sharp brown ones. Though his eyes seemed brighter than what he remembered as Lily’s being. Harry’s longer and curly hair reminded him of when he used to let it grow out. He realized that with a haircut, they would look even more alike.

He could tell that once Harry grew older and lost the baby fat on his face, his jawline would resemble his own sharp one. Although he had nothing on Cap, and the beard made it look sharper than it was.

“Hey,” Tony called out softly, getting Harry’s attention. “Good news. The tests they wanted to run weren’t necessary, so I’ve signed you out. I’m ready to go when you are.”

“Really! That’s great. But, uh, do you think we could go and fetch my school trunk? Laura says it’s at the impound nearby. It has all my things in it.” He was relieved, to say the least, he didn’t want to be in the hospital any longer.

“Of course,” Tony reassured him. “We can go get your school trunk. And here, I don’t know if you’ll need it, but you can wear my jacket. It’s going to be rather large on you, but it’ll do for now. As long as you stay in the car.”

“Thanks,” Harry said taking the jacket from Tony as he got out of bed. His clothes were in the cupboard, but it would be nice to cover himself up. Getting dressed, the jacket was large on him, but the gesture made him feel warmer inside. Standing next to Tony he felt more secure.

“So, I’m not going to ask how it’s possible that all your stuff fits inside one school trunk, surely you have more?” Tony asked puzzled.

Harry shook his head. “My aunt and uncle never liked me. I only got hand-me-downs from my cousin,” he said. He hoped another adult might believe him, like the man from yesterday.

“Harry,” Tony said gently, “did they do anything to you, things that an adult shouldn’t do to a child?” Harry looked away at his questioning, Tony feared the worst. If his kid had been touched inappropriately… what he would do to those people.

“I… There was a man here yesterday, from childcare services, that I spoke to. He, um, knows everything that happened. Nothing too bad, I swear…” Harry trailed off. “I- I’ll tell you, what happened, but please not right now. I’m not feeling up to it right now.” Harry knew he could trust Tony, but after the emotions he had gone through earlier, he just wasn’t up to it today.

“Hey, kid, that’s perfectly fine.” Tony said, giving him a small smile, his fears calming a little. “I’m not going to rush you into anything. All in your own time, okay? Just know that when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be there.” Harry smiled back, nodding his head.

“Okay then,” Tony said. “Why don’t we go fetch that trunk of yours and head back to my place? I have a friend of sorts, who came with me from America. Don’t even know if you could call him a friend; we work together, and he lives in the building I own. But hey, he offered to come along.” Tony rambled as they made their way out of the hospital.

Once they were in the elevator, Tony looked down, to notice Harry had socks on but no shoes on. “Hey kid, what happened to your shoes?”

“Uh,” Harry looked down at his feet feeling embarrassed. “They must have got lost or destroyed during the accident.” His cheeks flushed.

“Do you want a piggy-back ride to my car? Don’t need you slipping or getting your socks dirty on the way there.” Tony said crouching down to Harry’s height. He realized that Harry was rather small for his age.

Harry was taken aback, sure, he had never ridden on the back of a parent, and he was way too old for one. But for some reason, he couldn’t find himself saying no. “Really? I’ve never had one before.” His inner child, which was screaming to do something fun, had him saying yes.

“Of course, kid. I wasn’t going to offer if I wasn’t serious.” Tony said in all seriousness.

Harry took a moment before getting onto Tony’s back. As Tony stood up, he looped his arms under Harry’s legs. Grateful that he worked out regularly and was used to the heavy Ironman suit. Although Harry weighed nothing in comparison to his suit.

Once out of the elevator, Tony walked them to his car. It was parked on the far side of the lot, despite being here so early. He had already messaged his driver that they were on the way. Once at the car, Tony placed Harry into the back seat, before sliding in next to him. Surprising the driver who worked for the London branch of Stark Industries. There was another NDA that was going to be needed. Jarvis should be handling those already.

Tony instructed the driver to go to the nearest impound lot. Despite the lot being only about 20 minutes away, the lunchtime traffic made the trip longer. They had been in the hospital longer than expected. It didn’t take long before Harry started to dose off in the back, exhausted from the emotional day.

Retrieving Harry’s school trunk didn’t take long. It had been removed from the car when the car had been taken to a repair shop by the insurance company covering Harry’s relatives. There was some blood on the trunk, but the old man running the place said they hadn’t been able to open it. Tony had to pay extra to get the trunk back and keep it off the books. And then a bit more on top of it to keep his presence in London a secret. The old coot knew how to get money out of him.

Harry was still asleep when Tony got back into the car, surprised he hadn’t been woken by the noise. When they made it back to Tony’s apartment. Tony had the driver bring the trunk into the elevator before he left. Cap could bring it into the apartment, since it was a private lift. Tony carried Harry in his arms, as they rode the elevator up. When the doors opened, he saw Steve standing there.

Steve smiled at the sight of the little boy in Tony’s arms, before grabbing the trunk that was beside them. Tony carried Harry into his room, placing him under the sheets carefully, not wanting to disturb his sleep. He found Harry’s trunk by the door, before making his way to the kitchen.

“Thanks,” Tony said to Steve when he saw him standing there.

“No problem,” Steve said softly with a goofy smile on his face. “Let me know if you need me to do anything, otherwise I’ll be around.”

“Will do Capsicle. I don’t want to leave Harry by himself, so if I’m needed. I’ll be in my room.” Steve nodded in response, his smile lingering. So, Tony made his way back to his room. He got in on the other side of the bed, it would be better if Harry didn’t wake up in a strange environment by himself.

Just as Tony got comfortable, Harry turned and cuddled into Tony’s lap. Preferring to use it as a pillow than the actual one. Tony smiled softly at his son, running his fingers through Harry’s messy hair. He pulled out his StarkPad from the bedside table and started on some work, replying to emails and reassuring Pepper that everything was alright.

This moment, even one of peace, felt like the first of many for Tony. He had already missed so much and wanted to savour the little bubble of comfort and security he was in, hoping it would never go away.

Chapter Text

Harry woke to the feeling of fingers running through his hair and his name being called softly. His eyes fluttered open, squinting at the brightness of the room. The persistent calling of his name wouldn’t allow him to rest. Finally opening his eyes, he gazed up to see Tony, his father, watching him with a soft smile.

Harry’s head rested in Tony’s lap, and as he watched Harry join the waking world, he couldn’t help but think affectionately of his son. Tony had only been able to do so much work before he got bored of reviewing drafts. His fingers itched to create, so instead of working, he had made lists; lists of all the possible ways in which he could spoil Harry. He knew he shouldn’t go overboard, no one ever seemed to appreciate his gifts. But this was his son, and he was Tony Stark, so they could all be damned. He would do what he wanted.

As much as he had wanted to let Harry sleep, the sun was starting to dip down. And there didn’t need to be two people with bad sleeping habits in the family. Tony was disturbed from his thoughts by Harry reaching towards him.

“What’s this?” Harry asked softly, reaching out to touch the light emanating from Tony’s chest.

“It’s an arc reactor,” Tony explained. “It’s keeping tiny pieces of shrapnel from reaching my heart, and most likely killing me.” He could see the worry creep into Harry’s eyes. “Fear not, my child, for I am in good health, and you have nothing to worry about.” Tony boomed playfully before he started to tickle Harry’s sides.

Harry burst into giggles, wriggling around as Tony tickled him, being careful of Harry’s broken arm. The sound of laughter filled the room, and Tony found the sound more precious than anything he owned. As he eased up on the tickling, Harry continued to laugh, a happy smile on his face. Looking like the child he was despite his short stature.

His mind raced with numbers and formulas that could help Harry restore the nutrition he had lost during his childhood, potentially aiding his growth. Thanking the time and effort he had put into studying nutrition after he had returned from Afghanistan, despite never using it. When it came to Harry’s health, he would never go as far as something like the super-soldier serum Cap had taken. However, he would try his hardest to give Harry the best future possible.

As Harry’s laughter died, Tony spoke gently, “Why don’t we get something to eat? You must be hungry after sleeping so long,” he suggested. He hoped to introduce Harry to Cap if he was around. He didn’t want to put introductions off for too long. It was better for Harry to meet Cap now rather than by being startled by a stranger in the place. Cap had already seen the kid, and he knew he was staying here, but Harry not so much. He didn’t want a repeat of the hospital room.

“Sure, I’m fine with whatever you want.” Harry knew that his situation had changed, that he wasn’t stuck in an abusive situation anymore. However, it was hard for him to express his desires. Even with having been to Hogwarts and the Weasleys’ home, he had never been able to express his desires. At least not in terms of food. He was used to his wants being overlooked anyways.

“You sure, 'cause we can get whatever you want?” Tony asked. He could see Harry was waging a war in his own mind. “We can get Chinese, Italian, although my Italian food would be better. There is also pizza, burgers, you name it. I can get it. And that doesn’t just go for food, if you ever want or need anything, just let me know. There’s very little that I can’t get for you.” He said, trying to assure Harry about his doubts.

“Uh, pizza sounds good, and…” Harry took a reassuring breath. “Um, maybe we can get some treacle tart? It’s a favourite of mine.”

“Sure, kid. I can’t say I’ve ever had treacle tart, but I’m not afraid to try something new. Jarvis, get us the regular order of plus and extra cheese pizza with…” Tony looked at Harry, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, pepperoni, please.”

“And another pepperoni pizza, along with a good helping of treacle tart, and a few slices of apple pie.”

“Yes, sir. I would also recommend that young sir put on some clean clothing. There is children's clothing in your wardrobe sir. However, it may be rather large on young sir, as I assumed him to be a typical twelve-year-old size. Given his smaller stature, I would advise that you go shopping sooner rather than later.”

“Thanks J. I’ll do that as soon as I can.” Tony paused for a moment before continuing. “Harry that is Jarvis. It stands for Just a Rather Very Intelligent System. He’s an AI that I built. If you’re ever lost in the house, need anything, or just want to talk, he’s there. When I get you a new phone, he will also be built into that. I’ve integrated his infrastructure into all my main residences.”

“Hello, younger sir. It is nice to formally meet you.”

“Um, hello, Jarvis. It’s nice to meet you as well. You can just call me Harry, no need to call me Sir.” Harry answered, looking around in awe.

“Will do young Harry.”

“Jarvis has a habit of calling people what he wants, so don’t mind him. I’ve been trying to get him to call me Tony for years. Isn’t that right, J?”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, Tony got out of bed and walked over to his wardrobe area. Harry stayed in bed, so Tony motioned for him to follow. Harry got out of bed with a big yawn and sleepily made his way to Tony’s side. Tony pushed open the door, and Harry stared in amazement. Tony couldn’t help but smile at his kid, but Harry’s next comment took that smile away.

“This is bigger than any of the rooms I have lived in. I mean, of course, it’s bigger than a cupboard under the stairs, but then I got to stay in the smallest bedroom in the house. I think it’s just bigger than the dorm room, but that was a circle so it’s difficult to judge. This is like three times bigger than anything the Dursleys gave me.”

“Harry, you won’t ever be living in a small room again. I can promise you that your next bedroom is going to be even bigger than this walk-in closet.” Tony said as he crouched down beside Harry, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Do I have to sleep somewhere else? I mean, it was nice sleeping here. It made me feel… safe.” Tony’s heart melted at the spoken words.

“Kid, of course, you can stay with me. I just thought you might want your own room.” Harry shook his head and hugged Tony, almost knocking him over from his crouched position. Tony, a bit shaken at first, quickly returned the hug, feeling Harry tighten his grip even more.

Tony and Harry hugged for a few minutes before Jarvis informed them that Steve had left the house. Jarvis had sent him on a mission to get ice cream from a nearby parlour. He had hinted to the Captain that he might get onto Harry’s good books by doing so. Jarvis then went on to inform him that the food would be arriving shortly. With some reluctance, they both let go of the hug. Tony would be lying if he said he didn’t shed a tear over the moment they had just shared.

They quickly set about getting dressed. Every time Tony suggested something in his classic red and gold, Harry shot it down. He explained that they were his schoolhouse colours, and he didn’t want to wear them all the time. Tony felt a bit hurt, wondering if Harry didn’t like Iron Man. But surprisingly Harry hadn’t shown any recognition of his name. There was a possibility that he didn’t know about Iron Man, however strange it may be. Harry eventually settled on a plain green T-shirt, the colour oddly reminding Tony of Loki and Harry of Slytherin, along with a pair of jeans.

By the time the pizza had arrived, they were both sitting in the kitchen. Tony couldn’t get over the amazement on Harry’s face whenever they entered a new room, especially when they got to the kitchen. Sometimes, he forgot that others didn’t grow up with the same luxuries.

“Tony?” Harry asked as his father, wasn’t that a mind boggler, opened up the pizza boxes.

“Yeah, kid?” Tony answered looking up to see Harry looking anxious.

“Just, uh, thanks. You didn’t have to find me or even go looking. So, yeah uh thanks for taking me in.” Harry blushed looking away, feeling embarrassed.

“Kid, I would fight a thousand battles, if it meant I could have you in my life. So don’t stress, I’m just glad I found you before anything terrible happened.” Tony said reaching across to ruffle Harry’s hair.

“Tony,” Harry said in a more casual tone, “would I be able to bake in here?” He asked while grabbing a few slices of pizza to put on his plate.

“Sure kiddo,” he didn’t pay any mind to the question. “Just make sure there’s an adult with you. Jarvis can keep an eye on you, but he can’t do much if something goes wrong. But feel free to.” He replied. “I’ve got my nonna’s old recipe book. I think the original copy is in Malibu. But J’s got a copy.” Tony smiled.

“Thanks. I’ve always enjoyed baking, even though my aunt made me cook. I don’t mind cooking, just not alone.” Tony crumpled the napkin in his hand. “I liked helping my friend’s mom in the kitchen when I was over though,” Harry said, smiling warmly at Tony.

As Harry shared personal details of his life, even though they were still new to know each other. Tony sensed there were deeper, potentially darker stories Harry might share in time. He didn’t even want to think of Harry’s relatives as human, Harry would tell him it all in due time. It tugged at his heart. He realised he was growing to love his son quickly and wished he had looked for him sooner.

“No problem!” Tony said trying not to let his emotions show, he didn’t want to get into a fit, just as Harry was opening up to him. “Let’s eat!” As they dug into their meal, Tony observed Harry’s delighted expression as he took his first bite of pizza. Harry glanced at Tony with wide eyes before devouring the rest of his pizza without another word. Not realising this was the first time Harry was having it. Tony took another bite of pizza before getting up to grab water for both of them.

While Tony’s back was turned, occupied with gathering drinks. Steve walked in behind, setting a bucket of ice cream on the table. Proudly announcing he had found the best ice cream in the area. Harry having been oblivious, was so startled that everything went dark momentarily when the power tripped.

After a few seconds, Jarvis rebooted the power systems. “Sir, there seemed to be a large fluctuation of energy in the room. Power has been restored and all systems are busy rebooting. Estimated time for full restoration is around 30 minutes.”

“Thanks J.” Tony said, now standing with empty glasses in his hands and a puddle of water beneath him.

“Whoops,” Harry said sheepishly, his heart still beating a mile a minute, while Steve just stared at him in surprise.

“Surprisingly, this isn’t the first time this has happened today,” Tony said to Steve, who looked at him questioningly. “Do you have anything to say, Harry? Seeing as though this is a repeat event. The first time is chance, the second time is a pattern kiddo, and at three, well, I don’t want to study my own kid.” He threw a towel down to clean up the mess and refilled the glasses, grabbing one for Steve in the process.

“Uh…” Harry went quiet, thinking about what to do. He knew he could tell Tony, he wanted to. But he wasn’t so sure about the other man, and Steve could see by the looks he was being sent by the kid that he was reluctant.

“I’m Steve Rogers. I work with Tony. You could probably call us friends.” Steve said, trying to ease the tension.

“I’m Harry,” he replied softly.

“Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Okay, no more pleasantries, Cap. Harry?” Tony said trying to bring the conversation back on topic. He didn’t want to interrogate his son, but he didn’t want his electronics frying every day. Not with his hobbies.

“I don’t know if I can tell Mr Rogers,” Harry said, his voice wavering. Steve noticed that Harry had more manners than his father, but he was going to shelve those thoughts away for later.

“It’s okay, Steve can keep a secret,” Tony reassured him.

“Um, okay.” Harry could do this, he took down a basilisk this year, but this was nothing. He just didn’t want to be thought of as a freak by his own father. He needs to rip the band-aid off. “I’m a wizard.”

A wizard. Tony thought, his eyebrows raising. “Like Loki type of magic, flying around on a broomstick wizard, a double double toil and trouble kinda wizard or like Merlin?” Tony fired off. He was curious but surprisingly open-minded, Harry was grateful.

“Um, I’ve heard that some traditionalists pray to different gods, but no, not like Loki, at least I don’t think so. Broomsticks are usually only used in sports, not really for travelling. Potions are a yes, but my teacher is horrible. And Merlin is a historical and actual person. He’s one of the founding members of the wizarding society here in Europe, or so I’ve read.”

Steve was impressed by Harry’s ability to keep up with Tony, but then again, they were related. Tony, on the other hand, was uncharacteristically speechless, even if only momentarily.

“I knew a few wizards back in my day,” Steve said, breaking the silence. “They joined in our battle against HYDRA. Apparently, HYDRA had teamed up with an evil wizard or something. Landed up fighting alongside a few wizards every now and then.

“That’s so cool, but how old are you? 'Cause the last dark wizard was Voldemort, and that was mainly aimed at a certain group of wizards. The one before him was Grindelwald, and you look way too young to have fought him, or Voldemort really.”

“Considering I was frozen in ice for 70-odd years, and because the name sounds familiar. I’d say it was this Grindelwald guy.”

“You were frozen in ice? That’s… well, kinda creepy.” Steve chuckled at that, astonished that Harry didn’t know who he was.

“Harry, can you tell us anything about being a wizard? Better yet, can you show me?” Tony asked, finally finding his voice after coming out of his thoughts.

“Uhh, I can’t really show you because I’m not seventeen yet. I haven’t even finished my schooling and I really don’t want to get in trouble with the ministry again.”

“Trouble with the Ministry?” Steve echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, they don’t take too kindly to underage magic outside of school. But there are books we can get from our magical district, Diagon Alley. It’s kind of like a hidden part of London. I also need to go to the bank to see about a few things. And probably get my arm healed,” Harry said, glancing at his broken arm.

Tony’s mind was already racing with possibilities. “Alright, you can tell me later about getting in trouble with this ministry. You probably got that trait from me. I’m known for pissing the government off.”

“Language Tony,” Steve said, giving him a pointed look.

“And Diagon Alley you say.” Tony continued, ignoring Steve’s comment. “Jarvis, start gathering information on the place. I want to know everything you can find.”

“Already on it, sir.”

“A hidden magical district sounds fascinating. If you wouldn’t mind, can I tag along?” Steve asked.

Tony nodded. “We’ll get whatever you need from Diagon Alley. We can head out tomorrow. Get everything sorted out. Cap can you believe it,” Tony turned to Steve. “I’m the father of mini-Gandalf, how cool.” He said jumping around like a little kid.

Harry smiled, feeling a warmth he hadn’t felt since Hagrid had taken him shopping. “Thanks, Tony. It means a lot. And… if you’re interested, I can tell you what I know so long about magic. It’s just patchy cause our history teacher is a literal ghost and only teaches one subject."

“I’d love that,” Tony grinned. “And afterwards we can make our plans for tomorrow.”

Harry started sharing the limited knowledge he had, outside of goblin wars. Yes Tony, real goblins. The different subjects he took, as well as the magical creatures he had encountered. Minus the basilisk. Tony and Steve listened intently, amazed by the world that was right under their noses. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt like he belonged.

As this was happening a white shape appeared in the window. She squawked loudly, before pecking at the invisible wall that stood between her and her owner. All three heads turned towards her direction. One she recognized, the other looked like her boy, but much older, and the other she had no recollection of.

Harry turned to see a snowy owl sitting on the ledge outside the kitchen window. “Hedwig!” He shouted running to the window to let her in. Letting his fingers glide over her feathers as she stood on the kitchen counter.

Chapter Text

Tony’s life was changing, and it felt like he was destined to live in a constant state of amazement if this day was any indication. First, he had learned that his son had been abused by his relatives after the Potters died. Then he discovered that Harry could do magic, and now here he was watching his son share treacle tart with an owl perched on his shoulder.

He had been shocked, to say the least, when Harry recognized the owl at the window and began letting it in. Steve being the little shit he was, despite being anything but little, had just been sitting there eating, with a smug look on his face. Which came about after promptly telling Tony that he knew something he didn’t. Tony had never felt so speechless in his life.

Harry kept feeding pieces of the tart to the owl, who was apparently called Hedwig. Tony doubted that treacle tart was the best diet for an owl.

“J, what do owls normally eat? And can you order at least one of everything from a pet store that is suitable for owls?” Tony called out breaking the silence in the room.

“Certainly, sir. Owls are most likely to be found eating small rodents, but they are also known to eat amphibians and the occasional fish. They are not known to eat plant-based foods, as they are birds of prey. I have sent in an order for both live and frozen rodents, as well as various other supplies.” Jarvis responded.

“Thanks, J.”

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” Harry said with wide eyes. “I’m used to sharing my food with her, with what little I was allowed.”

“Harry,” Tony said, taking a deep breath. “Now that you’re staying with me, you’ll never have to suffer like that again. I know you don’t want to right now, but I think we need to discuss what your relatives actually did to you.” Tony placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“I need you to know that you will be loved and looked after from now on. Nothing you say will change that, no matter what has happened to you. You can ask for anything, or if you need help, I’ll drop whatever I’m doing to be there for you. You are my son, Harry, and I’ll do anything with the power I have to give you the best of what you deserve. No questions asked.” Hedwig hooted in agreement, while Harry nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. “Hey, you don’t need to cry,” Tony said gently. “I’m only doing what’s right.”

“I… I know that you’re doing is how any child should be treated, but after what I’ve been through. It just… It just overwhelms me.” Harry said struggling to get the words out. Steve and Tony patiently waited for Harry to speak again.

“I… A lot…” Harry cleared his throat. “I don’t remember when I first arrived, but I know the story. I was left at their door in the middle of the night to be found the next morning. Mind you it was the end of October. I remember always feeling hungry, always wet, cold and crying for help. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t a slave to them. Always in the garden with nothing to drink.” Harry said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

“As soon as I could stand at the stove with the help of a stool, I was making all their meals. Yet I would only get the occasional scrap. If I didn’t do something the way they wanted I wouldn’t get fed. If I made them angry, I would be locked in the cupboard with no food. Sometimes they left me locked in the cupboard for days, only getting one trip to the toilet.”

“My cousin was a bully. He likes to play a twisted game called “Harry hunting.” Most times I would be left with bruises, and on some occasions, broken bones.” He still hated his cousin for all his tormenting.

“Petunia never really touched me, she once hit me over the head with a frying pan when I burnt the bacon. She mainly used her words to hurt me, leaving the physical hurt to the others. They often called me a freak, and a waste of space, among some other colourful words. And I did, I felt like a waste of space, I did until I went to Hogwarts.”

Harry went silent, he didn’t like speaking of what Vernon had done to him. As much as he knew Tony wasn’t going to view him differently. There was still doubt in his mind.

“Vernon treated me the worst,” Harry said, barely saying the words. “He…” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s alright, take your time.” Tony said gently.

“He would beat me, often. For things I didn’t even do. The beatings were worse if he had clients over. He would… he would uh lash me with his belt, making sure to use the side with the buckle. He once broke my fingers when I did better than Dudley on a test. I never did that again.” With having said the encounters that had scared him the most, both physically and mentally. He went on to detail all the encounters he could remember, both the small indignities and the severe cases, leaving nothing out.

It took him a long time for Harry to share everything, but he needed to unburden himself, even the things he hadn’t shared with the social worker.

“Harry,” Tony called out quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for sharing everything with us. I know it mustn’t have been easy.”

“That’s not all, there’s more things that happened. What I’ve told you. Well, that’s only the things that happened with the Dursleys. There’s more, things that happened to me at Hogwarts, the um school I got to, for, um.. magic. There were some things that I overheard, just as the term was breaking up. I’m not entirely sure if the experiences I’ve had at school, is the way I should have experienced it.”

“Harry,” Steve spoke up. “You don’t have to force yourself. You can tell us whenever you’re ready.” He didn’t want Harry to push himself. He had already shared so much. After hearing what he had been through, they would both understand if he didn’t want to share more.

“It’s okay,” Harry said with a small smile. “I want to talk about this. I feel like if I don’t do it now, I never will. I’d rather get it all out at once, than drag it out.” Hedwig gave a soft hoot in reply.

“Okay kid, we’re here for you,” Tony said.

Harry took a deep breath and began to recount his experiences. He started with the time before his first year. He talked about the mountain of letters he received, Hagrid’s visit, meeting everyone on the train, and even his first encounter with Draco Malfoy. He described how his friends treated him, how they made him feel like he finally belonged somewhere.

He spoke about his Potions classes with Snape, about finding the Mirror of Erised, encountering Fluffy, and the adventure to get the Philosopher’s Stone. Harry shared the horrifying truth of a teacher being possessed by Voldemort, and their intertwined story.

He went on to speak about his second year, about a diary that wrote back, having the bones in his arm vanished. He recounted his fear and the danger of the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, how he discovered he could talk to snakes, and of being accused of opening the Camber. He detailed everything that had happened.

He shared what he had overheard from Dumbledore, his conversations with the goblins, and a brief explanation of what the goblins did in the magical community. He even shared his insecurity around being famous for not dying, while his parents sacrificed themselves.

Harry then started to explain the theories he had, which he had started to develop not long after hearing what Dumbledore had to say. He expressed his belief that Dumbledore, or “Fumbleworth,” as Tony called him, was training him to be a weapon, a pawn in his chess game against Voldemort. He mentioned his suspicions about Hagrid introducing him to the wizarding world while badmouthing Slytherins, the oddity of why the Weasleys used the muggle entry his first year going to Hogwarts, and how everything seemed to conveniently fall into place.

Tony and Steve listened to it all. Their outrage grew with each revelation, and how everything seemed to perfectly fall into place as it happened.

By the time Harry finished speaking, it had grown dark. Still full, from their late lunch, they decided to head to bed. Hedwig had settled on a chair in Tony’s room, intent on watching over her owner, while Steve had gone off to a room further down the hall. Harry was exhausted from the day and was about to collapse into bed. Tony stopped him from doing so and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Harry felt the tears escape as he clung onto to Tony. They stayed there for a while, his sobs the only sound in the room. Tony gently petting his head and reassuring him. “You’re safe now, Harry.” Tony said breaking the silence. “you’ll never have to live like that again.” The shock of everything he had shared, and the overwhelming emotions, had finally caught up to him.

Tony had never experienced so many emotions as he had while listening to Harry’s life story. At just the age of twelve, Harry had already faced so much adversity. He felt overwhelmingly proud of Harry; proud that he had endured without complaint and proud that he had noticed when things didn’t seem right. And they weren’t.

Tony swore to himself that this Dumb-as-a-door person would face consequences, especially if Cap didn’t get to him first. With that sense of righteousness, he had. He was determined to make sure Dumbledore paid for his negligence. Even if the old man never saw it coming.

Eventually, Tony ushered Harry into the bathroom and helped him run a bath, making sure that his cast stayed dry. Though it was awkward for both of them, especially Harry, they remained mostly silent. Afterwards, Tony helped Harry get into some pyjamas and tucked him into bed. He then washed up himself before climbing in beside Harry.

Harry immediately curled into Tony’s side. Tony laid a soft kiss on his forehead, whispered “Goodnight,” and received a sleepy grunt in reply. For the first time in a long time, Tony didn’t struggle to fall asleep. He felt content with his child safe in his arms, knowing Harry was finally safe from harm.

~~~~~~

Tony woke in the early hours of the morning to find Harry thrashing about in bed. A thin layer of sweat covered him, and his face was twisted in discomfort. Tony, having had his fair share of nightmares, gently took Harry into his arms, calling his name softly and soothing him with words of safety.

Harry eventually calmed down, snuggling into Tony’s chest, his broken arm tucked tightly into his chest. Despite Harry’s calm, Tony continued to rub his back, trying to offer as much comfort as possible.

Tony didn’t know how long he lay there, but eventually, Harry began to wake up. He glanced up at Tony, realising where he was, and despite feeling embarrassed, snuggled in closer. The memories from his dream still lingered.

“Hey Bud, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Tony said. “You’re safe now. I’m not ever going to let anything hurt you.” Harry nodded his head into Tony’s chest. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Harry stayed silent, trying to decide if he should share his nightmare. “I… they wanted to take me away from you… and they did. They locked me up, with my uncle watching over me… he uh… he started to beat me with his belt… but it turned into a frying pan… it hurt. But then I heard your voice, you were there rescuing me.” Harry said. “I can’t believe that bastard still haunts me from his grave.” He laughed bitterly.

Tony held Harry tighter. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. But remember, he can’t hurt you anymore, no one can. You’re safe with me, I promise. I might not have magic like you, but I have methods of protecting you. I am Ironman after all! No one will ever take you away from your old man.” Harry gave Tony a confused look.

“Ironman? That name sounds familiar. I think I’ve heard the muggle-borns talk about it. Isn’t it a person who flies around in a metal contraption or something?”

Tony chuckled. “You really don’t know about Ironman? What about the Avengers?” Harry shook his head. “Well, I am Ironman. I don’t just fly around in a tin suit though. I didn’t bring any of my suits with me, but I’ll show you when we get back to America. For now, I can show you some clips. “

“That would be nice,’ Harry said, feeling curious. He decided not to ask about going to America later; he wasn’t ready to have that conversation just yet.

“J, what time is it?” Tony asked.

“It is currently 6:45 am, Sir. Mr rogers has been in the kitchen for the last hour preparing breakfast for everyone.”

“Thanks J, tell him we will be there shortly.”

“Will do sir.”

Tony turned to Harry who had pulled away and was starting to get out of bed. “What do you say to having some breakfast, and then we can head out to that mystical ally you were telling us about?”

“Sure,” Harry replied, a small smile forming on his lips.

After having gotten ready for the day, they headed to the kitchen. Tony kept an arm around Harry’s shoulders telling him stories about being Ironman. They found Steve cooking up a hearty breakfast, the smell of bacon and eggs filled the air. For once in his life, Harry felt like everything was normal and right.

“Mornin’,” Tony greeted as they entered the kitchen. “You sure you cooked enough food there, Capsicle?” Tony teased. It wasn’t every day that you got to see the captain in casual clothes, especially multiple days in a row. Tony was enjoying the view.

“Good morning,” Steve replied with a warm smile. “You’ve got a growing boy on your hands and a super-solider under your roof. So, let’s hope I made enough to feed a small army.” Steve teased back, noting that they were all wearing sweaters.

While Steve wore a baby blue one, Tony wore maroon, and Harry sported a brown sweater over a plain T-shirt. Steve couldn’t help but think they looked like a family, which made him blush slightly. He quickly turned around to grab plates for breakfast.

Harry’s eyes widened, not used to seeing this amount of food outside of Hogwarts. “This looks amazing, Mr Rogers!”

“Just call me Steve, Harry. And thank you.” Steve said smiling.

They sat down to eat, enjoying the meal that had been prepared for them. The atmosphere was relaxed between them, Harry enjoying the comfort of his newfound family. After breakfast, they would head out on their journey to Diagon Alley, but for now, Harry was going to enjoy the meal.

~~~~~

On their way to Diagon Alley, Tony driving this time. Harry, seated in the back, with Steve in the passenger seat. Harry turned towards Tony to ask a question. “Tony, do you think I’ll be able to contact my friend Hermione? She has muggle parents, so they should have phone numbers.”

“Sure, no problem, kiddo. Do you have their numbers?” Tony asked.

“Ah, no, but I know that they are both dentists and that their last name is Granger.”

“You hear that, J?” Tony asked. Jarvis was connected via Bluetooth to the car.

“Yes, sir. I’ll start looking for two dentists by the surname Granger with a daughter named Hermione,” Jarvis’s distorted voice responded.

“Thank you, Jarvis!” Harry beamed.

“It’s no problem, young Harry,” Jarvis replied smoothly. Tony felt a surge of pride. Both of his ‘children’ were interacting and getting along.

“Harry, what are your friends like?” Steve asked turning to face Harry, who was in the middle seat. This led to Harry describing Hermione as the brightest witch of their age. He mentioned Draco Malfoy, his rival, who was a close second in terms of intelligence.

He also shared his mixed feelings about his friendship with Ron Weasley and recounted how Ron’s younger sister, Ginny, wouldn’t leave him alone and had embarrassed him on Valentine’s Day with a love poem that compared him to a toad.

By the time Harry finished talking about his friends, Tony was nearing their destination. “Where is this alley actually?” Tony asked. Having been given the general location from Harry earlier.

“We have to go to Charing Cross Road and find the Leaky Cauldron. From there, we can get into Diagon Alley.”

“Why do we have to go into one place to get to the other?” Tony questioned, curious.

“The Leaky Cauldron is a magical pub that acts as a barrier between the Alley and the muggle world. Tom, the bartender, can help us get through,” Harry explained.

“They really don’t want us non-magical people to know about you guys living right under our noses?” Tony mused.

“Yup, there are a lot of laws about doing magic around mugg – non-magical people. We can’t tell anyone about magic unless they are family or somehow close to us and need to know. We also aren’t really allowed to do magic in public unless it’s a magical area. So yeah, they like everything to be hidden,” Harry confirmed.

The rest of the short drive was spent with Harry asking how Steve still looked so young and got a very watered-down version of Steve’s story. Harry had to stop Tony from driving right past the Leaky Cauldron, pointing it out just in time. Both Tony and Steve couldn’t see what Harry was talking about, but when he explained what the building looked like, they finally saw it. Harry explained that it most likely had muggle-repellent charms on it.

Tony parked his car a few stores down from the pub. People walking past were already stopping and staring at his car or probably the license plate. SI-I 03, short for Stark Industries International, car number 3. People probably recognised the significance of the plate or were simply intrigued by the luxury car.

They quickly walked the short distance to the pub, having to stop Steve from walking right past it. Tony laughed at him, making Steve blush in return at his mistake. They walked in, and Tony was not impressed by the interior, though he guessed it suited the pub’s name.

“’ello Harry! ‘s been a while since I ‘ast saw ya. ‘ow was ya school ‘is year.?” Greeted Tom, the bartender.

“Hi, Tom!” Harry greeted, “It was an okay year, nothing to write home about.” Harry replied. Tony snorted at that, knowing Harry’s year had been far from okay.

“Ya need ‘ome ‘elp get’ing through te the alley?”

“Yes, please. That would be helpful,” Harry responded. Tom grinned at Harry and led him to the back of the pub, Tony and Steve trailing behind. Tom took out his wand and tapped a pattern onto the brick wall. Harry watched closely, trying to remember the pattern. To Tony and Steve’s fascination, the wall began to disappear, revealing Diagon Alley bustling with activity. Harry made his way through the entrance, motioning for the others to follow them when they didn’t move.

They trailed after Harry, passing many shops that had them rethinking what they knew of the world. They passed cauldron shops, apothecaries, Quidditch supplies (whatever that was), and many other mystical stores. The one that made the most sense to Tony was the bookshop, and he was definitely planning to stop there on their way out.

Harry came to a stop in front of a tall white building that seemed to defy gravity as each floor tilted in a different direction. The sheer whiteness of the building made it stand out from the ones surrounding it; it was the only structure that didn’t seem to be covered in dirt or falling apart. Shining in gold above the entrance was the sign: Gringotts Bank.

As they walked up the steps, Tony noticed an engraving on the wall, ‘Fortius Quo Fidelius.’ If Tony knew his Latin correctly, it meant ‘Strength Through Loyalty.’ There was another long engraving he only caught a glimpse of as they entered the building, all he managed to read was, “Enter, stranger, but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed-,” Tony was glad he didn’t catch the rest of that threat.

On either side of the open doors at the entrance to the building stood two small creatures in full armour, which Harry said were goblins. They were given indifferent looks as they passed by them. Upon entering the building, they were met with two long rows of bank stations stretching down the length of the room. Harry walked towards the first open teller that he saw.

“Good day, Arrast,” Harry said looking at the name plaque. “I was hoping you could see if Griphook is available to see me, Heir Potter, about the state of my accounts and an inheritance test.”

“Of course, Heir Potter.” The goblin grinned at him before leaving his spot and heading further down the long hall.

“Just be polite to the goblins, greet them by their names, which should either be on their desks, if not, they will give them. Do that, and they will treat you as you treat them. Oh, and I’ll try and explain any of the customs if need be.” Harry explained.

 “They seem like I could trust my money with. Maybe I should start investing with them as well, get Stark Industries into the magical world. Think of all possibilities that await us, Harry.” Tony mused.

“Griphook will see you now, Heir Potter. May your coffers be ever full.” Arrast said upon returning.

“And your enemies tremble at your knees,” Harry replied with a grin, causing the goblin to grin back before motioning for them to follow.

“There’s no one right response when a goblin tells you ‘May your coffers be ever full.’ But it’s usually centred around their enemies fearing them.” Harry half whispered to Tony and Steve.

The goblin stopped them in front of a door before knocking. A “come in” was heard before the door opened and the goblin left as they entered. With the door closing behind them, Harry sat in front of a desk where Griphook was seated. Tony sat down next to Harry while Steve remained standing as there wasn’t a third chair. The goblin watched Steve for a moment, as if waiting for something to be said. When nothing was said, he grinned, and a chair appeared on the other side of Harry with a flick of Griphook’s hand. Steve thanked him before taking a seat.

“What brings you here today, Heir Potter? And what fascinating guests you bring with you.” Griphook greeted, a smirk on his face.

“Hello, Griphook. I’m here to check over my affairs and to take an inheritance test. And some other potential business if the inheritance test goes outside of the expected.” Harry greeted back.

“Is there anything that has made you doubt your linage, Heir Potter?”

“I’ve had some recent information present itself that says otherwise, and please call me Harry.” The goblin gave a throaty laugh at Harry’s cheeky grin.

“You sure are an interesting one, Harry.” Griphook opened a drawer on his side of the desk and pulled out a piece of parchment with a small dagger. “Place three droplets of your blood onto the parchment paper for you family up to three generations before you and your closest claimable titles. Or use five drops of blood, for branches of relatives regardless of their health status, and all claimable titles. You can also include any of your inherited family magics or magics cast on you.

“The standard test will cost 4 Galleons; the next test will cost 5 Galleons. For the extra information that will be an additional cost of 2 Galleons on top of everything, due to the use of a potion alongside the test.” Griphook explained.

“I think I’d rather not take any chances. I’ll pay the two extra Galleons and do the test with five drops of blood.” Harry said, taking hold of the dagger as Griphook produced a potion vial from somewhere. The potion had a deep purple colour to it, but still allowed light to flow through. Griphook poured the potion into a bowl.

“Now, place the drops of blood into the bowl.” Harry cut the tip of his finger, allowing the drops to land into the bowl, quickly pulling his hand back after the fifth drop. Griphook handed him a cloth for his finger, upon wiping the blood off his finger, the cut healed, and the blood disappeared from where it had smudged onto the cloth.

Griphook proceeded to tip the liquid onto the piece of parchment, which absorbed the liquid without becoming damp. Griphook’s eyes widened as words started to appear on the parchment. “Very interesting indeed,” Griphook handed over the parchment.

Tony and Steve leaned in as Harry took the parchment and began reading:

Name: Harry James Anthony Potter

Mother: Lily Jane Potter (nee Evans) – Deceased

• Living Sister: Petunia Ann Dursley (nee Evans) – (Status: Critical Condition) - Aunt

Father: Anthony Edward Stark

• No siblings

Blood Adopted Father: James Fleamont Potter – Deceased

Maternal Grandmother: Elizabeth Rose Evans (nee Arbuckle) – Deceased

• No living siblings

Maternal Grandfather: Johnaton Roy Evans – Deceased

• No living siblings

Paternal Grandmother: Maria Collins Stark (nee Carbonell) – Deceased

• No living siblings

Paternal Grandfather: Howard Anthony Walter Stark – Deceased

• No siblings

Maternal, Maternal Great-Grandmother: Daphne Jane Arbuckle (nee Smith) – Deceased

• No living siblings

Maternal, Maternal Great-Grandfather: Samuel Arbuckle – Deceased

• No siblings

Maternal, Paternal Great-Grandmother: Rebecca Evans (nee Barnes) – Deceased

• Living brother: James Buchanan Barnes (Status: Frozen in stasis) – Great Uncle

Maternal, Paternal Great-Grandfather: Mattew Andrew Evans – Deceased

• No siblings

Paternal, Maternal Great-Grandmother: Lavinia Sophia Carbonell (nee De Luca) – Deceased

• No Siblings

Paternal, Maternal Great-Grandfather: Peter Carbonell – Deceased

• No siblings

Paternal, Paternal Great-Grandmother: Jenavieve Stark (Nee Johnson) – Deceased

• No living siblings

Paternal, Paternal Great-Grandfather: Walter Howard Stark – Deceased

• No living siblings

Claimable Titles:

Stark Heir (Available) – Paternal Legacy

Lord Potter (Age Seventeen) – Through Blood Adoption

Heir Potter (Claimed) – Through Blood Adoption

Lord Black (Age Seventeen) – Through Godfather’s Claim

Heir Black (Available) – Through Godfather’s Claim

Lord Peverell (Age Seventeen) – Through Blood Adoption

Heir Peverell (Available) – Through Blood Adoption

Lord Slytherin (Age Twenty-five) – Through Right of Conquest

Heir Slytherin (Available) - Through Right of Conquest

Gaunt Head of House (Available) – Through Right of Conquest

Family Magics:

Stark Blood Line: None; however, inclined to understand the world around them, develop/invent technology, retain knowledge and learn faster than average.

Evans Blood Line: Inclined to master Charms easier than most.

Potter Blood Line: Inclined to be a natural flyer through all means, inclined to achieve an Animagus form, inclined to invent potions.

Peverell Bloodline: ⨇⨊⨈⨎⨞⨘⨚⨳⩙⪐⪓ , in possession of invisibility cloak.

Slytherin Blood Line: Parselmouth and Parselmagic.

Magic on Person:

Magic Core blocked 50%: Will release upon majority – placed by Lily and James Potter.

Parselmouth block 50%: Broken - placed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Parselmagic block 100%: Placed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore.

Horcrux: Placed by Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. – Destroyed by Basilisk Venom.

After reading through everything, Harry was confused about some things, and wasn’t quite surprised about others. Tony was busy planning how to get away with the murder of one Albus Dumbledore, and Steve was shocked when he saw that Bucky might still be alive or that Bucky’s little sister was Harry’s great-grandmother. Who knew that her going off to boarding school would have led to her actually marrying the Evans lad she always wrote about.

“Does Harry have to inherit all of those titles? Otherwise, he’s going to have a lot on his plate,” Tony exclaimed.

“I presume you are Mr. Stark then?” Griphook inquired.

“Technically speaking it's Dr Stark, though I’ve never really used the title. But perhaps I should start, I don’t think I’ll be able to compare to your titles though, Harry.” Both Harry and Tony chuckled at this.

“My apologies, Dr Stark. Harry does not have to claim all the titles. The Malfoy heir is also in line to inherit the Black Lordship. As for the Gaunt line, there is very little wealth remaining. The Gaunt family, they were the descendants of the Slytherin line, the last Lord squandered their wealth and sold off most of their known properties, as well as their title.

“The Peverell title, which the Potters descended from, is similar. Most of its wealth has merged into the Potter line, though it does provide an additional seat in Wizengamot. The Slytherin line on the other hand, unlike the Gaunt family, due to many rules pertaining to taking over the Lordship, has a substantial amount of vaults. Many of which contain money, books, research, paintings, jewellery, and more. However, one vault, however, is dedicated to funding the upkeep of the school and is supported by contributions from both past and present Slytherin students.

“So, while Harry does not have to claim all the titles, as he has done so with the Potter line, only a few of the titles hold significant weight in the magical world,” Griphook explained.

“Do any of these titles have any weight in the non-magical world?” Tony asked.

“In the past, the Peverell title would have been a true Lordship, but it no longer holds such status since the monarchy it originated from no longer exists. So, while Harry may claim his titles, they hold no weight outside of the magical world. They are essentially glorified titles for the head of house, as the title comes with a seat on the Wizengamot.”

“Alright, that’s good to hear. Harry already has a lot on his plate if he ever decides to take over Stark Industries from me.”

“You are the owner of Stark Industries?” Griphook inquired. “Your success is well-known among the Goblin Brotherhood. Some of us had wished you were a wizard.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I have full intentions on expanding Stark Industries into the magical world at some point. I definitely know who will be handling my accounts on such matters as well.” Tony grinned widely.

“You are quite the wild one we had thought you would be Dr Stark. You might one day be a friend of the Goblin Brotherhood.” Tony shot Griphook a cheeky grin.

“On another note, would I be able to get a copy of all of Harry’s banking records since the Potters passed away? I think it’s high time I start investing his money, not that he won’t be getting from me.” Tony said.

“Of course, I can have the Potter accounts brought up, and if Harry wants to claim any of the other titles. I can have those accounts brought up as well.”

“I don’t have to claim them all, do I? I could claim some now if wanted and others at a later date,” Harry asked.

“Almost certainly,” Griphook confirmed.

“Then I think I’ll just claim the Slytherin line. It seems it may have things of interest for me, outside of money. None of the other titles hold much value to me right now, and I already claimed the Potter line a few months ago. Although I’m still waiting on the ring for that, but we did arrange for me to fetch it.”

“Certainly, I will have someone go and fetch the rings right away, and have the requested documents brought to you, Dr Stark.”

“Oh, please call me Tony. I feel like my father when someone calls me that,” Tony said, grinning.

“As long as you call me Griphook.” The goblin grinned back. The room settled into a brief moment of silence before Steve finally spoke up, having remained quiet during everything.

“Master Griphook, would there be any way of locating a relative of Harry’s on the list? Mainly the one who is in stasis.”

“Call me Griphook, and you are” The goblin asked.

“Captain Steve Rogers, but Rogers is fine.”

“Mr Rogers, it is easier to track someone who is conscious and moving about, even if they are asleep at times. To track a person's remains is also an easy task. Now, while it is possible to track someone who is in a state of stasis, it will take a great deal of time, and will require only the best in the business.”

“Thank you, Griphook,” Steve said appreciatively.

“Tony as it stands, we need to change Harry’s guardianship over to you. Before we do that, I’d like you to have a mental and physical test done. I suspect that you’ll have it done in the non-magical world as well, but the ministry here won’t accept those methods. We can conduct the tests here and have the papers filled out as well,” Griphook explained.

“Thanks, that would be helpful. It didn’t even cross my mind that the wizarding ministry might have different standards from the rest of the world,” Tony replied.

There was a knock on the door before a goblin entered, carrying two small boxes and a binder full of papers. The goblin placed everything in front of Griphook before leaving again.

“The heir rings,” Griphook started, handing over the boxes to Harry, “only hold protective spells and non-theft charms on them. You will simply need to place the ring on your finger, wait for it to fit, and then place the other one on. They will react to the other and can show as one if wanted, but either or both can be removed at any time. If you wish, they can also become invisible, only while on your finger. When you come of age, your lordship rings will present more of a challenge; they have to deem you worthy before you can claim the title,” Griphook explained.

Harry placed the Potter ring on first. It was a simple golden band with the Potter crest engraved on it, it shrunk to fit his finger rather quickly. He then grabbed the Slytherin ring, a thin band of white gold shaped like a snake wrapped around his finger with a small flicker of green for the eye. This ring took longer to resize itself, but it eventually did.

“Looking good kid,” Tony said. Harry willed the two rings to merge. They merged into a golden band with the Potter crest sitting on top. The snake warped itself within the gold band, not daring to touch the Potter crest, the green still glinting in its eye. The ring contrasted itself with the classic design of the Potter ring and the sleek snake that showed off on the sides of the ring.

“Tony, if you would allow our healers to do a medical and mental screening, we can finish up here for today,” Griphook said, Tony nodded, and a few healers entered, two wizards and a goblin. The wizards began waving their wands, speaking Latin in a hushed whisper, while the goblin chanted in Gobbledegook. When they stopped, scrolls appeared before them, which they passed over to Griphook, before leaving. He took a moment to read over them.

“It seems everything is mostly alright with your mental state, except for some minor PTSD. However, your physical health is confusing. While you are healthy, the results are saying you are near death,” Griphook noted.

“Ah, PTSD, my good old friend from my time in Afghanistan. The other issue originates from the same place. I have shrapnel in my chest, and without this device,” Tony said tapping his chest, “I would be dead already. It keeps the shrapnel from getting any closer to my heart.”

Griphook took a moment to think, “Okay.” These muggles are something else. “While I don’t see any immediate problem with that. I recommend that you see a wizard healer about getting the shrapnel removed. Why don’t we finish up the paperwork now.”

Tony filled out the forms to transfer guardianship over to himself, taking him about half an hour to fill them out. Griphook handed him the folder of Harry’s accounts, as well as a pouch that was directly connected to Harry’s vault afterwards. He explained that this was the stipulated amount Harry received from his trust vault. His aunt and uncle had never been to collect it. Tony thanked Griphook, despite not needing the extra funds, but seeing as he didn’t currently have any wizard currency, it would be used in the interim.

“It was good to finally meet you, Heir Potter,” Griphook said bidding them farewell. “Your letters have been a pleasure when received. Mr Rogers, we will get back to you on tracking Harry’s relative, expect a response through Harry. Dr Stark, it has been an honour to meet a man of such accomplishments. May your gold ever flow.” Griphook raised his eyebrow at Tony, waiting to see how he would respond.

“And may your enemies shit their pants when they hear your name,” Tony responded with a grin, making Griphook burst out in a deep laugh.

“You are an interesting one indeed, Dr Stark.”

With that, the three of them left the bank. It was nearing midday when they stepped outside. Tony insisted that they stop at the bookshop they had passed. He wanted to get anything and everything he might need to help Harry, and himself, as well as anything his kid wanted.

Chapter Text

After leaving Gringotts, the three of them headed into Flourish and Blotts, the only bookshop in sight. The shop’s appearance was a charming mix of a vintage and magical allure, with enchanted books floating in the window display. Upon entering the store, Tony immediately grabbed a basket and eagerly went about exploring the different shelves, his eyes wide with excitement.

Harry trailed after him, determined to prevent Tony from purchasing every book in the store. “We don’t need all of these, Tony,” Harry said, trying to steer him away from the more fictitious titles.

Meanwhile, Steve followed the signs that led him to the ‘muggle’ section. He was expecting to find books from the non-magical world, but rather was surprised to discover a collection of books dedicated to parents with magical children.

The shelves were lined with titles offering advice and guidance for muggle parents navigating the wizarding world. Intrigued by this, Steve scanned the spines of the books, selecting a few that would be helpful to Tony, or just generally useful. He picked out four of the fifteen available books: ‘The Magic Gene: What You Need to Know,’ ‘Why Your Tech Won’t Work Around Your Kid,’ ‘All Magic and No Sense,’ and ‘Wizarding Laws for the Muggle-born Parent.’

While Steve was absorbed in his search, Tony and Harry zigzagged between the rows of bookshelves. Tony’s enthusiasm to get every book available was infectious, but Harry had to say no, to the less than practical books. “We won’t be able to carry all of these,” Harry said, fully knowing they would shrink the books down at the counter. He took the hefty tome titled ‘Advanced Rune Translation’ out of the basket.

Tony was being relentless, his hands reaching out to grab anything that caught his eye. Harry didn’t even recognise half the books that were being placed in the basket. “But what about this one? Or this one?” Tony asked, holding up a series of obscure volumes.

Harry sighed in defeat, recognizing a few familiar titles among the stack, including ‘A History of Magic’ and ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.’ “Alright, but no Lockhart books,” Harry said firmly, steering Tony away from a glittering display of Lockhart’s works. “They’re just a bunch of rubbish, full of false adventures.”

Eventually, Steve found the two amongst the shelves and added his few books to the growing pile in Tony’s basket. How it all fits in there, was simply because of magic. Tony clapped Steve on the back with a grin.

“Thanks. I guess the old man can still read,” Tony joked.

They spent another hour and a half in the shop, Tony’s excitement showing no signs of waning. Eventually, Harry and Steve managed to coax him towards the counter, where a bemused clerk began tallying up their purchases. The clerk’s eyes widened when they realized the sheer amount of books there were, a greedy look quickly replaced their initial surprise as the total cost was calculated.

Tony had no care for the final cost, despite Harry’s insistence that they didn’t need so many books. Tony flashed him a cheeky grin and handed over the pouch, paying the full amount. “Don’t worry about it, Harry. I have more than enough to pay for all of this.” Tony said. The clerk handed Tony a small, enchanted package. The clerk explained that when it was opened, everything would return to the normal size and weight.

When the three of them finally left Flourish and Blotts, they stopped at a quaint café on their way back to the apartment. The café had an inviting atmosphere, with cozy seating, with the rich aroma of freshly baked pastries wafting through the air. They settled into a corner booth, savouring their food, though Tony wouldn’t stop complaining about the coffee.

This coffee is so weak. It’s like they tried to give me dirty dishwater.” Tony grumbled, pushing his cup away in disgust.

Steve smirked, taking a sip of his own drink. “Oh, suck it up, Stark. Not every place is going to have your type of deathly coffee.” Steve mocked.

Tony raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I could suck it up, but I’d rather have something strong and satisfying,” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo.

Harry burst into a fit of giggles, unable to contain his amusement at their banter. Normally, Tony and Steve would have ceased their bickering by now, especially when it started to get sexual. Steve got embarrassed easily. However, seeing Harry so genuinely happy, Steve continued their playful exchange.

“Well, if you’re looking for something strong, I don’t know if I would be able to satisfy you. Maybe you should look to Banner or Thor.” Steve shot back with a grin, Harry still laughing.

“Calm down Capsicle, I'd rather not deflower my science bro like that, and really Point Break has nothing on you, besides his ongoing L’Oréal commercial. Don’t you worry Old man, I wouldn’t mind having a tall glass of righteousness.” Tony winked, causing Steve to blush and finally stop in his pursuit of trying to embarrass Tony.

By the time they returned to the apartment, the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the city. As they headed up to the apartment, Harry’s thoughts began to drift. The reality of his new situation was sinking in. He had a father, who was going to be officially looking after him. He had been told this by Tony when they had initially met, but it had never truly registered.

He had been bracing himself for a return to the Dursleys, despite Petunia being in a coma and Vernon being dead. The lingering fear of abuse had been hard to shake, but now, surrounded by people who cared about him, he finally felt free. He had even trusted three different adults with the dark secrets of his past.

For the first time, Harry felt a glimmer of hope. His life which had been filled with hardship and pain, was finally starting to turn around. He glanced at Tony and Steve, who were bickering over something else now, and smiled. With their support, he felt ready to face the future.

“Welcome back, sirs,” Jarvis greeted them as they stepped into their temporary home. The sleek, modern apartment felt like a safe haven after their eventful day. “I have found a home phone number belonging to a pair of Grangers with a daughter named Hermione.”

“Thank you, Jarvis! Tony, can I please call Hermione?” Harry asked eagerly, practically bouncing with excitement despite the cast on his arm.

“Sure, kid. You can use my phone. While you do that, I can get started on those books,” Tony, replied, smiling as he handed over his phone, unlocking it. Steve set the package of books on the coffee table in the lounge, which had a stunning view of the city below.

Harry, not really knowing how to work a phone, fumbled with the device, his fingers clumsy on the screen. Seeing his struggle, Jarvis intervened. “Young Harry, would you like me to place the call for you?”

“Yes, please,” Harry said gratefully, holding the phone to his ear as the ringing tone began.

Meanwhile, Tony wandered over to the lounge. He watched as Steve began opening the package, and the moment he did, a cascade of books tumbled out, burying him in a small avalanche of books as they continued to pour out. Tony burst into laughter at the sight.

“Need a hand there, Cap?” Tony teased, settling onto the couch. He started sorting through the pile, organizing the books by their titles.

Harry, oblivious to the commotion, focused on the ringing phone. After a few moments, there was a click. “Hello, this is Dr Jean Granger speaking.” Hermione’s mum answered Harry’s phone call.

“Hello, Mrs, I mean Dr Granger. Is Hermione there? It’s Harry Potter, a friend of hers from school,” Harry said.

“She’s here. Let me just call her.” Harry heard a faint call for Hermione to come downstairs before her mother continued. “I’ve heard lots about you from Hermione. It’s nice to know she has finally made some friends. Ah, here she is.”

“Hello?” Hermione’s voice came through the phone.

“Hi, ‘Mione.”

“Harry! How are you? Why are you calling? I thought your family didn’t allow you to use any of their things. How did you even get my number?”

“I’m good Hermione, despite the fact that we were in a car crash on the way back from the train. Uh, my uncle died in the crash, and my aunt is in a coma at the moment. Dudley has gone to stay with his aunt.”

“If you need somewhere to stay, I’m sure my parents won’t mind,” Hermione cut in, concern evident in her voice.

“It’s all good, Hermione. You won’t believe what’s happened since then. It’ll probably answer you other questions.”

“Go on, I’m listening. But I swear, Harry James Potter, if you’ve gotten into trouble, you will be hearing it from me!”  

“Jeez, ‘Mione, have a little faith in me.” Harry took a deep breath and sat down next to Tony on the couch. “And technically speaking, it’s Harry James Anthony Potter.”

“What, I didn’t know you had another name.”

“Neither did I, cause apparently my dad isn’t my dad. Well, he kind of is but isn’t. My real father heard about the car accident and came to get me. We just got back from the Goblins, and he is now officially my father in the magical world. We still have to do the paperwork in the Muggle world.”

“Harry…” Hermione gasped. “Don’t tell me that James was actually your mother. I know wizards can get pregnant with the right potions and spells, so it never really happens by accident.”

“No, he’s not! Merlin, Hermione. I didn’t even know wizards could get pregnant! James couldn’t have children, so one night, Mom and Dad were at an event where they met my father and asked him to help because he looked similar to my dad. James even went and blood-adopted me to make sure I became his heir. You won’t believe the amount of houses I’m heir to, but most of them are just empty names.”

“Harry?” Hermione said, restraint in her voice. She was used to Harry’s rambling.

“Yes, Hermione?”

“Who is your biological father?"

“His name is Tony Stark.” Harry heard Hermione gasp.

“Harry, do you know who he is?” Hermione asked. Harry looked over to Tony who was bickering with Steve about how to organize the books.

“Apparently, he’s some kind of superhero.” Harry wasn’t too sure, not with what he had witnessed of Tony’s behaviour.

“Harry, Tony Stark is one of the richest people on this planet, and he’s a genius. He saved the world last year from an alien invasion.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Really!”

“Well, at least he can protect me from Voldemort then.”

“Honestly, Harry,” Hermione sighed. “Sometimes I really don’t understand you. Tony and his team can protect you from anything! You’re probably the safest you’ll ever be.”

“Cool… Hermione, do you want to come over this weekend? I think I can finally have friends over!”

“Sure, Harry. Let me ask my parents first. Call me again tomorrow and I’ll have an answer for you.”

“Okay, awesome. Talk to you tomorrow! Bye, ‘Mione.”

“Bye, Harry.” The call ended and Harry turned to Tony with a beaming grin.

“Tony, can Hermione come over this weekend?”

“Sure, kiddo, she is more than welcome to,” Tony replied, briefly glancing up from the books he was arranging. “I should be able to make some phones for the two of you before then.”

“You don’t have to do that for us!” Harry exclaimed, not used to Tony’s generosity.

“Just because I don’t have to, doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Plus, I’ve been itching to fiddle with stuff.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed, smiling. He joined Tony and Steve in sorting the books, offering as much input as he could. The process was surprisingly enjoyable, with Tony explaining why he deemed a book important and Harry sharing what he knew from his classes.

Once the books were organized, Tony picked one he had deemed important and started reading. As he got started on the book, he went into a deep focus, zoning out from the rest of the world. After a while, Steve and Harry realized that they couldn’t get a reaction out of him and left for the kitchen.

They sat in a comfortable, yet still awkward silence for a few moments before Steve spoke up. “So, Harry, can you tell me about any good things that happened at Hogwarts? And who’s this Voldemort guy?”

Harry eagerly answered all of Steve’s questions, recounting his best memories from Hogwarts. The Quidditch matches he had played, sneaking around the castle with his friends, and the pranks the Weasley twins pulled. The conversation flowed naturally, and Harry tried his best to share what little he knew about Voldemort.

As the day wore on, the discussion shifted from Harry’s experiences to Steve’s life before he became Captain America. Harry listened in awe as Steve recounted stories of his time growing up in Brooklyn, and his friendship with Bucky. Harry was fascinated to learn about Bucky, who was still somehow alive, and his great uncle.

Eventually, they decided to order food for dinner and elected for some Thai food. When the food arrived, the enticing aroma filled the apartment, drawing Tony out of his trance just long enough to join them for the meal. They enjoyed the meal, settling on more light-hearted conversations. Tony, being the speed reader he was, had already finished two books by the time they all decided to turn in for the night.

As Harry lay in bed, he felt a sense of contentment he had never felt before. Whatever the future held was uncertain, but for now, Fate seemed to be on their side, granting them a well-deserved moment of peace and happiness.

Chapter Text

The week passed peacefully; each moment was filled with a comforting sense of normalcy which was a rarity in Tony Stark’s life. When Tony wasn’t engrossed in whatever text he was reading, he was in his lab. It was limited, but his main focus was the phones for Harry and Hermione, so he could manage. Harry often joined him in the lab, watching intently at first, but gradually his curiosity transformed into genuine interest.

Tony noticed this, and would explain what he was doing to Harry, reminded of when he was first introduced to a lab. It didn’t take long before Harry was asking questions, and Tony got him to help with simple tasks, making sure he maintained lab safety. They grew closer with each shared project.

When Harry wasn’t with Tony, he was with Steve, working on digitizing the extensive collection of books that Tony had amassed. Despite their efforts, they had barely made a dent in the pile.

The task seemed impossible, but Tony had insisted on transferring all the information onto Jarvis. Stating that if they ever needed the information down the line, it would be easier to access. He was particularly interested in understanding why magical blocks had been placed on Harry, but so far, he hadn’t found anything noteworthy.

Determined to find answers, Tony had typed up a letter to the British Wizard Hospital, on Harry’s recommendation, requesting a check-up appointment for both him and Harry. Griphook having mentioned the possibility of getting the shrapnel removed from his chest had intrigued him, but Harry’s well-being was his main concern. After a series of correspondence with the hospital, Tony had finally secured an appointment for the two of them on Monday morning. He just hoped that the visit wasn’t going to be a disappointment.

Amidst all of this, Steve’s birthday had passed by quietly. He hadn’t mentioned it, content to let the day pass without any fanfare. Tony, despite people saying he was unobservant, had wished him a happy birthday, but Harry had remained unaware. Steve was rather glad the day passed uneventful; he preferred it that way. His birthday hadn’t felt like his own for a long time, and it was more than enough to spend his day not really doing anything. A gift he truly appreciated.

Spending time indoors, especially with Harry, was the best gift Steve could have asked for, if he really asked for any. Harry’s presence was a constant source of light, his smile lit up the whole room. Steve happily stored the memories away, grateful for the gem Harry was.

Saturday came with the promise of a visit from Hermione. Since her parents didn’t work on weekends, it was the perfect day for the family to come over. Harry had taken to calling her at least once a day, having quickly learned how to put her on speakerphone. The calls were the highlight of his day, especially when he tackled the mountainous task of digitizing books with Steve.

It was through these conversations that Hermione learned about Jarvis and discovered that Steve Rogers, a.k.a Captain America, was also staying with them. She may have squealed at the revelation.

Tony, while looking forward to meeting the Grangers, also wanted to speak to Hermione’s parents. He wanted to understand their perspective of Hogwarts, especially if they knew what had been happening. And if not, to inform them of such events. He also wanted to discuss something with them, something he hadn’t figured out how to broach with Harry.

It was Mid-morning when Tony received a call from reception, notifying him that the Grangers had arrived. He granted them access and, along with Harry and Steve, went to meet them at the elevator doors. As the doors slid open, a whirlwind of curly hair launched itself at Harry.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, hugging him tightly, careful of his injury.

“Hermione, it hasn’t even been that long!” Harry laughed, returning her embrace.

“I know, but I’ve been so worried about you since you first called.”

“I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“I know you didn’t, but I can’t help worrying about you. Trouble always seems to find you. Now, tell me everything that’s happened since we got off the train,” Hermione all but demanded, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“Okay, okay. Come one let me tell what’s happened.” Harry said leading Hermione to the nearby lounge.

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Steve offered, following the two.

Tony watched them go, before turning to face the Grangers. “Welcome to my home, Dr Granger and Dr Granger.”

“Please, call me Jean,” Hermione’s mother said with a warm smile.

“And please, call me Paul,” her father added.

“Well then, you must call me Tony. Would you like something to drink?” Tony offered.

“Some tea would be great, thanks.” Jean replied.

Tony led them to the kitchen, where they sat in the breakfast nook. He busied himself preparing tea for the couple and coffee for himself. Once the drinks were ready, he placed their cups in front of them and took a seat.

As they sipped their tea, Tony studied the Grangers. They seemed pleasant and approachable; he knew this conversation required a gentle touch. “So, I wanted to talk to you two about something,” he began choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been concerned about some things that have happened at Hogwarts over the past two years. I was wondering what Hermione has told you?”

Jean sighed, exchanging a glance with Pual. “She’s told us about her subjects, what classes are like and shared her excitement about learning magic. However, we’ve always had the feeling that she wasn’t telling us everything. But we haven’t pushed her. We’ve never seen her so happy before. She finally has friends.”

Tony nodded, understanding their perspective. “While I can see your point about not pushing, what Harry has told me in the last week, has left me concerned. He’s mentioned some of the ‘adventures’ he, Hermione, and their other friend have had over the past two years.”

“Adventures?” Paul asked, eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”

Tony took a deep breath, being delicate with what he said. “In their first year, they navigated a maze-like course, set up by their teachers, to protect a priceless object from an evil wizard. Their friend, Ron, was knocked unconscious in a giant chess match that put all their lives at risk. When they reached a wall of fire, only one of them could pass through after solving a potion's riddle. If they guessed wrong, they would have died. Harry went through the flames and encountered their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who was being possessed by the evil wizard, Voldemort. Harry doesn’t recall much after that, but it must have been traumatic.”

Jean’s face paled. “Hermione has never mentioned any of this!”

“And that’s just their first year,” Tony continued. “Their second year was even worse. Hermione was petrified, I’m not just meaning scared. More like she had been turned to stone, and this was for a good portion of the year. This happened when she was trying to help Harry figure out what was happening at school. Something the teachers and headmaster should have been handling.”

Both Grangers were in shock. They had sent their daughter to this school believing it was the safest place on earth, but it clearly wasn’t.

“Hermione Jean Granger! Come here right now!” Paul shouted. Moments later, Hermione and Harry shuffled into the kitchen, with Steve trailing behind him.

“Hermione, how could you have not told us about the dangers you faced at should?” Paul demanded.

“I… We were always fine afterwards.” Hermione stammered, hanging her head.

“That is no excuse. You were in danger. You were petrified, and we didn’t even know about it! Did you even learn anything at this school that wasn’t from your own personal reading?” Paul’s voice softened, but the concern was evident.

“I’m sorry, Mum and Dad. But I knew that if you knew everything that happened, you wouldn’t let me go back. I finally have friends and feel like I belong somewhere. I didn’t want to lose that,” Hermione cried.

Jean placed a comforting hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Hermione. But we need to consider other options. Maybe look at other magical schools. We haven’t paid the fees for your third year yet, so there’s still time to change your mind.”

Hermione nodded, tears in her eyes. “Okay, Mum.” She sniffled.

“Tony,” Jean spoke. “It was lovely of you to have us over. Sorry to say that this visit has to be cut short. What you have told us has been enlightening and concerning. I think we need to have a talk with our daughter and do some research on schools. We want her to be safe.”

Tony, fully knowing the gravity of the situation, knew this visit had gone askew. “It was no problem having you all over. If I find anything myself, I’ll let you know. I also have a gift for Hermione so she and Harry can stay in touch.” He said pulling out the phone he had made for her.

“Thank you so much!” Hermione said delighted, taking the phone from Tony and wiping her eyes. Her parents expressed their gratitude, as Hermione hugged Harry goodbye, before they all walked to the elevator.

As the Grangers left, Tony felt a mix of relief and concern. He had started a difficult conversation, but it was necessary for the safety of both Harry and Hermione.

Turning back to Harry, Tony softened his tone. “Sorry about that, Harry. I just wanted to air a few concerns with parents in a similar situation. But what I said to them was true. I don’t feel comfortable with you returning to that school, so I will be keeping my options open. I only want what’s best for you. Okay, kiddo?”

“Okay, D– Tony,” Harry replied, almost slipping before correcting himself. Tony smiled warmly at his son before excusing himself to do some more reading.

As Tony left, Harry found himself alone with Steve, who was watching him with a thoughtful expression. Steve had noticed Harry’s near slip of the tongue and sensed the emotional struggle behind it. It wasn’t the first time in the last week that Harry had almost called Tony “Dad,” and Steve knew it wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t understand what was holding Harry back, but he intended to find out and help him through it.

Chapter Text

Monday came around faster than Tony and Harry had expected. They now stood outside a modest door bearing a sign that read “Dr Irène Gotts.” Tony was still awestruck at the building, which had been invisible to him until Harry took his hand. Which caused it to materialize out of thin air, filling what had previously been an empty space.

After a short wait, the door opened to reveal a middle-aged witch with streaks of grey in her brown hair, which was neatly tied up in a bun. She wore a doctor’s coat over a long dress and peered over her glasses at a file in her hand.

“Are you Tony and Anthony Stark?” she asked. Tony hadn’t wanted to use Harry’s first name for the appointment.

“Yes, we are,” Tony replied, rising out of the chair, Harry following suit.

“I am Dr Gotts. Please come in so we can start this appointment.” She turned and walked back into the room, leaving the door open for them. Tony and Harry followed her into a cosy office and took seats opposite her at a large oak desk.

“So, what brings you in today?” Dr Gotts asked.

Tony leaned back in his chair. “Anthony here had his arm broken in a car accident just over a week ago. He was seen to at a Muggle hospital, but his arm needs to be properly fixed. We also recently visited Gringotts and discovered that there are magical blocks that have been placed on him.

“His magical core is half-blocked by his mother and adoptive father. They passed away a while ago. Otherwise, I would have asked them why. Because I am not a wizard, I don’t know what to do. Anthony also has a block on one of his abilities as well, which I want removed. He broke the other block that had been placed on him.” Tony explained about Harry.

“Additionally, having taken over custody, I had to do a health check. The Goblins are concerned about my constant state of near-death. See, I was involved in a terrorist attack a few years back. I have shrapnel in my chest. The arc reactor in my chest is acting like a magnet to keep from entering my heart.” Tony finished.

Dr Gotts studied them for a moment before speaking. “The broken arm is easy to fix. The block his mother placed is common and nothing to worry about. Parents often block a child’s magical core if it’s too large. It helps them control their magic and avoid issues like emotional outbursts or spellcasting failures. Once Anthony reaches his majority, the block will fade as he gets used to having more power.

“Having blocks placed on abilities is uncommon. I’ll need to check if the broken block caused any damage. I’ll need to know what blocks were placed,”

Tony hadn’t wanted to reveal this sort of information. “The broken block was a 50% block to Anthony’s Parselmouth ability, and the other block is completely blocking his ability to practice Parselmagic.” Dr Gotts started at them, eyebrows raised.

“Those are unusual blocks. I’m assuming they weren’t placed willingly?” Tony nodded. “I will definitely need to check for damage from the broken block as it affects the vocal cords and speech patterns. For the other block, I recommend a curse breaker specializing in medical magic to remove it. Unfortunately, I cannot help you with the shrapnel, Mr Stark. I can recommend specialists, but they’re in the U.S. or Japan.”

“That’s fine, I’m from America. How soon can my son’s block be removed, or should we wait until we’re back in the U.S.?”

 “You can have the block removed in America, but it should be done before he reaches his majority, or the block will become permanent, and may cause damage to his magic core. Now, if you’ll let me fix his arm, we can discuss the rest afterwards.”

Tony nodded, and Dr Gotts moved around the desk, taking out her wand. She gently held Harry’s arm, muttering an incantation under her breath. A soft glow surrounded the injured limb, and within moments, Harry’s arm was healed, and the cast vanished. Harry flexed it experimentally; glad he didn’t have to go through another situation like the one with Lockhart.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“You’re welcome, Anthony,” Dr Gotts replied with a warm smile. “Now, let’s address the other issues. I’ll perform a diagnostic spell to check for any damage from the broken block.”

She waved her wand over Harry, and a translucent image of his body appeared in the air showing the magical block. “It looks like the broken block has caused some minor disruptions. However, they seemed to be resolving on their own. I wouldn’t be worried about any side effects.”

Tony exhaled in relief. “Thank you, I appreciate your help.”

Tony continued to talk with Dr Gotts as Harry sat quietly, listening intently. The doctor provided Tony with a list of specialists in America who could help with his condition. Tony also confirmed that he would arrange for the block to be removed from Harry when they were in America, saying they would be leaving soon.

Leaving the hospital, Tony felt optimistic about their future. As they returned to the apartment, they found Steve in the lounge, surrounded by the books they had been sorting through.  Tony couldn’t help but admit that Steve looked good in relaxed clothing, surrounded by a sea of literature.

“You know,” Harry said, a smirk forming on his face. “If you didn’t just stare at him, and actually asked him out. I’m sure you two would make a good couple.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?”

“I would have to agree with young Harry on this one, sir,” Jarvis chimed in.

“Traitors, the two of you,” Tony muttered.

“I’ve also seen him looking at you, so I don’t think it’s one-sided,” Harry added with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Where does a 12-year-old get these ideas from? You shouldn’t know these things,” Tony said. He felt like a hypocrite saying that. He didn’t even want to think about Harry thinking those things.

“When you spend most of your year at a boarding school, especially around older guys, you learn…. Things,” Harry replied. His grin widened before he ran off into the lounge and jumped onto Steve.

Steve caught him just in time, preventing him from falling off the couch. They both settled in on the couch, with Steve pointing out Harry’s now-healed arm before he went back to reading the book. Harry picked up his own. Tony shook his head, amused, and headed to his lab.

In the lab, Tony focused on recording the few samples of magical signatures he had been able to collect. He was hoping to create a device capable of identifying magical signatures. It would bring the possibility of recruiting individuals with magic to work for him. He would be able to then expand his business into the magical community, but it would also allow him to see if anyone who currently worked for him had magic.

Tony was deep in thought when his phone rang, interrupting his work. “Sir, Ms Potts is calling,” Jarvis said.

“Patch her though,” Tony replied, setting down his tools and leaning back in his chair.

“Hello, Tony,” Pepper’s familiar voice came through, sounding annoyed.

“Morning, Pepper,” Tony replied, “Shouldn’t you still be asleep, a little early for you to be awake?”

“Tony, how can I be asleep when I’ve just been informed that there are pictures surfacing on Twitter of you with a child who looks oddly like you!”

Tony winced, knowing this conversation was inevitable. “Pepper, I was going to tell you, I really was, but-”

“So, you’re telling me that he is your kid?!” Pepper cut him off. “How can you be so sure?”

“Pep, I’ve always known about him. I’ve known about him since he was conceived.”

“Tony, what do you mean by that?” Pepper asked, confusion lacing her words.

Tony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he prepared himself to explain. “It’s a long story Pep, but I’ll give you a shortened version for now. Basically, thirteen years ago, I met this couple at a gala. They couldn’t have children due to the husband’s medical issue, and they asked for my help as a donor, which I agreed to.

“Long story short, they passed away a while back, and my kid hasn’t been living in some great conditions, so I’m taking over his custody. I’m in the process of doing so. It might be a few more weeks before I can head back to the tower. Cap’s here with me, so I have some help.”

“Tony, I don’t know what to say,” Pepper replied, her voice devoid of emotion. “I’m angry that you’ve kept this from me, especially since we used to date. However, I am also happy for you to have some family in your life. Just don’t screw the kid up.”

Tony was hurt by what Pepper had said, he knew she was joking, to some extent. However, she knew how much his father had hurt him. “Thanks, Pep.” He said curtly. “I’ll let you know when we head back, but for now, I’ve got things to focus on.”

“Of course. Take care, Tony, and let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Pep. Talk soon.”

Tony ended the call, feeling a mix of relief and hurt. He knew that their relationship hadn’t ended on a good note, but they had been fine. They had gone back to being friends. The situation was already complicated, and now he was feeling even more lost. Hopefully Happy would have his back. He sat back, slumping in his seat, letting his thoughts drift to Harry and the new responsibilities he had taken on. A smile formed as he thought of his son.

While Tony was occupied, Steve and Harry had been talking quietly in the lounge. As soon as Tony was out of earshot, Steve gently broached the subject that had been on his mind.

“Harry,” Steve began gently, glancing down at the boy resting against his shoulder, “I know you haven’t known Tony for long, and it’s normal to be scared of new situations. But I’ve noticed you’ve started to call him ‘dad’ a few times. I want you to know that there is nothing to fear, even if it’s only been a week since you met each other. There’s a bond between you. Tony already thinks of you as his son, and he would never be upset if you called him ‘dad’.”

Harry shifted, his small frame tense as he considered Steve’s words. “I… I want to call him ‘dad,’ but I’ve never really had one. It doesn’t matter to me that it’s only been a week. He’s been more of a more of a parent than anyone ever has in my life. But… I don’t want it to feel like everything is being rushed. What if this is all just a dream? What if I wake up and it’s all gone?” Harry’s voice trembled as he spoke, the panic building in his chest.

Steve wrapped an arm around him, offering comfort. “Harry, I understand. You don’t have to rush, and you don’t need to be afraid. Tony’s got you now, and he’s not going to let you go. Take your time. There’s no rush, but just know that when you’re ready, Tony will be there. I’ll be there. And knowing Tony he’ll be thrilled to hear you call him ‘dad’.”

Harry nodded, finding comfort in Steve’s words. “Okay,” he said and relaxed back into Steve’s side, his worries easing slightly. The two continued to read books of magical fairytales that lay open in front of them. The comforting weight of Steve’s arm around him, made him feel safe and protected.

Meanwhile, Tony was busy sending a quick message to the Grangers, arranging another meet-up before they had to leave London. With that taken care of, he turned his attention to the data he’d collected, his mind starting to buzz again with ideas and possibilities.

As the day wore on, Harry found himself growing closer to Jarvis. The AI was becoming more than just a butler; he was a confidant; someone Harry could talk to and joke with. He had snuck off after a while of sitting with Steve. Jarvis had agreed to help him with his secret plan to get Tony and Steve together.

Steve, on the other hand, had his thoughts elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. How his best friend was alive, or the fact that Harry was distantly related to him. The urge to find Bucky was strong, but frustratingly, there were no leads. The Goblins had promised they could locate him, but it would take time, and Steve wasn’t sure how long he could wait.

Despite the worries in all of their minds, there was a growing sense of hope in the apartment. Tony had found his son, Harry had found a father, and Steve… well, Steve was beginning to believe that maybe, just, maybe, he could have his best friend back.

Not far from the apartment, lurking in the shadows of a damp alley, a large, ragged grim hound barred its teeth. A low growl rumbling from deep within its chest. The object of its irritation was a crumpled newspaper lying nearby, the front page showing a picture that had him seething. In the grainy photograph, his godson, Harry, was standing next to a stranger, a man he had never met. There was a headline, something about rumours, but his eyes only had one focus: Harry, in some other man’s company.

Why was Harry with this stranger? And why had they been splashed across the front page like some kind of spectacle?

The dog’s growl deepened, his body was tense with anxiety and frustration. He couldn’t just sit here, he had to move quickly. The wizarding world might not be looking for a stray dog prowling the streets of London, but he knew all too well that every minute he was out in the open carried a risk. He had been wrongfully locked away before, he couldn’t afford to be caught again. Not when there was so much, he had to fix.

First, he had to find Harry. And that rat.

The rat that had betrayed them all. He needed to fix everything.

Yes, that’s what he needed to do

Find the Weasleys.

Find the rat.

Then find Harry.

The shaggy black dog took off, his dark form slipping unnoticed through the city’s streets, a shadow on the move. Determined to fix everything, even with a half-broken mind.

Chapter Text

Sirius travelled relentlessly, driven by desperation and obsession. Day bled into night, and still, he pressed forward. His journey was erratic, punctuated by moments of distraction, the most arbitrary things would pull his attention away from his goal.

In these moments, he’d lose himself, wandering off course before his scattered mind snapped back to its purpose. Once his focus returned to him, his mind would ablaze with purpose, propelling him onward.

His original plan had been simple; find Harry, make sure he was safe, and then proceed with capturing that dreadful rat. The second part of his plan would have started when everyone went back to Hogwarts, where distractions would be minimal, and his path clear. But things had changed.

He hadn’t found Harry where he was supposed to be, and with his frustrations climbing, Sirius made another reckless decision. He would go after the traitor first. Why wait?  He could strike under the cover of darkness, slip in and take what he needed while no one was watching.

Yes, that’s what he would do.

His mind, fractured from the years of isolation and torment, clung to his half-baked plan like a lifeline. It was messy, but it was the only thing he had.

Eventually, Sirus came to a halt, his paws sinking into the soft earth as stared up at the strange house before him. The structure was wrapped and crooked, with rooms stacked atop one another in impossible ways, defying the laws of gravity and architecture.

The Burrow, the home of the Weasleys, stood like a testament to the oddities of magic. Its mismatched walls, a patchwork of charm making it unique, even to wizards. For a moment, Sirius just stared at it, memories of being invited over for dinners and other events flooding his mind.

A wild laugh escaped from his throat, spilling into a feral growl that echoed through the trees. His mind was a whirlpool of fragmented plans, all of them incomplete and scattered, but one thing remained crystal clear.

HE WAS GOING TO GET THE RAT.

Revenge burned in his mind, encompassing all his other thoughts. Questions of Harry were barely registering anymore. He told himself that once he had his revenge, everything would fall into place.

He would get Har-----

No-

He would clear his name.

Get Har-

No-

Be free.

Then….

              He……

…. What was he going to do next?

……………

Oh, right.

Then he would get his godson and take proper care of him.

Sirius would make his move in the dead of night, when the house was quiet and the world still. No one would be the wiser. He would be a shadow, slipping into the house like a ghost. And when it was over, when he caught that bastard rat, he would finally be free.

Or so he thought.

~~~~~

The week passed pleasantly, with a sense of routine setting over Tony, Harry, and Steve. Tony split his time between tinkering in his lab and spending it with Harry, enjoying the rare chance to just relax. Time would often find the three of them gathered in the living room, books in hand, and falling into an easy rhythm.

During these quiet moments, Harry took the opportunity to subtly prod Steve about Tony. He was being careful, trying to gauge Steve’s reaction. The man seemed oblivious to his own reactions, occasionally blushing, but unaware. There was definitely something between them, nothing big, something that was brewing, but both seemed oblivious.

On Friday, Hermione came over to visit. They’d been talking regularly on their new phones, but seeing each other in person, was completely different. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cosy living room, they quickly fell into conversation, the ease of their friendship evident.

Harry told her about all the books that they had been reading the past week, and Hermione, the known studios, beamed with approval. “You’re finally reading more,” she told him teasingly, and Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

Hermione shared the news from her side. Her parents had been growing more and more uneasy with the danger that surrounded Hogwarts. After she had begged them multiple times, they had reluctantly agreed to let her return, but on a firm condition. Should anything unusual or dangerous happen this year, they would pull her out and find another school for her.

“One more incident, and I’m done,” she said her voice mixed with worry and determination.

Harry understood the weight of her words. He felt guilty about what he had to say. “As far as I know, I won’t be going back to Hogwarts,” he said quietly. “I think I’ll be moving to America with Tony. He hasn’t said anything directly to me, but I know that much.” The statement hung in the air for a moment.

Hermione’s face fell slightly before she composed herself. She nodded, trying to be supportive despite the pang of sadness she felt. “We can still message each other and see each other over the holidays.” She offered. They were both on the cusp of change, and though it was hard, she understood that Harry’s new life was taking him in a different direction.

After Hermione left with her parents, Steve vanished somewhere, leaving Tony and Harry alone in the apartment. It was then that Tony decided to finally have that serious conversation he had been putting off. He motioned for Harry to sit with him in the lounge, his expression soft but serious.

“I want to talk to you about school,” Tony began. Harry sat up straighter knowing this was coming. “We’re leaving for America on Sunday. I’ve got custody of you now, in both worlds. I know this place is your home, we can always visit, but I think moving to America would be best for us. Now, with your schooling, I don’t want to rush any decisions, it’s still the holidays in America. I just want to know what you are thinking, so I know what to look into when we get there.”

Harry listened intently as Tony laid out the options. The first option was to stop learning magic entirely and to attend a regular muggle school. Neither of them were fond of that idea. Tony made it clear that he had to offer it, just to make sure Harry knew it was on the table. But Harry shook his head almost immediately. He couldn’t imagine leaving the magic world behind. Even though it had brought him so much pain, it was also a part of him.

Tony smiled slightly, not surprised by his son’s reaction. “Yeah, I figured that wouldn’t be your pick,” he said, leaning back on the couch. “So, the second option, would be to find another magical school in America. Hogwarts isn’t the only school here, so there’s got to be one in America, maybe even multiple schools. We can look into it once we’re settled over there.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. The idea intrigued him, but he was still uncertain about it. A new place, new people, it just felt overwhelming.

Tony continued, “And then there’s the third option. You could do both, muggle and magical studies, but through homeschooling. I can teach you the science and tech stuff, and I’m sure I can rope in the other Avengers to help with other subjects. And if there’s something we can’t handle, we’ll get tutors. For magic, we’d find specialists in America, we’ll be starting with a clean slate. A fresh start.”

Harry’s mind raced as he considered the possibilities. Being homeschooled sounded like a lot of work, but then he would be able to spend time with Tony, be taught by him. It felt more personal, he didn’t really know the Avengers, but from what Tony had told him they seemed cool. Plus, he would still be able to explore his magic.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Tony reassured him. “Just think about it, okay?” He wanted to give Harry the space to think, make sure he was comfortable with whatever choice he made.

Harry had made up his mind almost immediately. The idea of being homeschooled outweighed the other options. He didn’t want to be sent away again, not after being found by his dad. Still, he kept the decision to himself, for now, not wanting to rush the conversation. He suggested that maybe in the future he could attend a muggle school, while continuing his magical studies at home. He was excited about what the future held.

Saturday was a whirlwind, packing up projects that Tony had started working on all the books and other small things. Tony, being the genius he was, eventually called in professionals to take care of boxing up everything. Tony hovered nearby as everything was packed away, making sure they didn’t touch the lab. Everything was labelled properly and would be shipped back to the United States.

Taking a moment to call Pepper, Tony let her know that boxes were on their way, and to prepare the plane for Sunday. She let him know that the plane had been there all week. Ever since she had learnt of his whereabouts, she hadn’t expected him to stay as long as he had. Tony didn’t know what to think of Pepper, he was grateful that she always thought ahead of him, but her undermining of him was hurtful. She needed a reminder that she wasn’t the actual CEO of the company, and only stood in for him.

By the time Sunday morning rolled around, the apartment felt empty, with all of their personal items packed away, but the buzz of excitement lingered in the air. Harry woke to the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. Curious, he padded down the hallway and peeked inside the kitchen. He was greeted by the sight Tony being held in a headlock by Steve, both of them covered in flour from head to toe. Tony’s usually impeccable hair was now dusted white and was laughing uncontrollably as Steve grinned like a mischievous kid.

Harry stifled a giggle, watching as Steve grabbed another handful of flour and dumped it into Tony’s hair, smearing it across his face with a satisfied grin. Tony sputtered through his laughter, trying to wipe his eyes as he tried to shove back at Steve. The two men continued their mock wrestling, which seemed to have started when making breakfast.

“Jarvis, you’re recording this, right?” Harry whispered. “And please send it to me.”

“Most certainly, young Harry,” came Jarvis’s smooth reply, causing Tony and Steve to freeze and turn towards Harry.

Tony narrowed his eyes, still in a headlock. “Kid, what did you just ask Jarvis to do?”

Harry shrugged, trying to look innocent, but the giggle that escaped him ruined the act. “Nothing!” He said, a little too quickly.

Steve looked down at Tony and they exchanged a glance, a wicked gleam passing between them. “Grab him, Cap!” Tony called out. Before Harry could react, Steve darted forward, wrapping his strong arms around Harry’s waist and hoisting him off the ground.

“Gotcha!” Steve laughed as Harry squirmed and laughed uncontrollably, trying in vain to escape Steve’s iron grip.

Tony, still grinning, took the opportunity to grab a fistful of flour from the nearby counter and approach his squirming son “Payback time,” he said playfully, dumping the flour over Harry’s head in a white cloud that covered him from head to toe.

“Hey!” Harry gasped between giggles, trying to shake the flour off. But before he could get away, Tony swooped in and began tickling him mercilessly. “Da… dad stop,” Harry managed to cry out between busts of laughter, his small hands pushing at Tony’s chest as he wriggled in Steve’s arms.

Tony froze, as the word dad, left Harry’s mouth. His heart skipped a beat, and he looked down at Harry, stunned. Harry’s eyes were wide, still shining with laughter, but there was vulnerability behind them, as if he wasn’t quite sure how Tony would react to being called dad.

Tony’s expression softened, and before he could stop himself, he wrapped Harry in a tight hug, pulling him close against his chest. His face buried in Harry’s shoulder, the scent of flour and the faint sweetness of the boy’s shampoo filling his senses. A few tears slipped free as he chuckled into Harry’s neck, overwhelmed by the warmth that had just bloomed in his chest.

“Dad,” Harry whispered again, a little more confident this time as he wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, holding on tightly. Tony’s beard tickled his skin, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh softly as Tony held him close.

Tony would later think of this moment as one of the best days of his life. Not even the first cheeseburger, he had had after escaping captivity could compare to the feeling of hearing Harry call him dad for the first time. It was pure joy that washed over him and filled every crack in his heart.

Eventually, Tony loosened his hold, looking down at Harry’s flour-covered face with a smile. He ruffled Harry’s hair, which sent more flour into the air. Wiping away the few stray tears that escaped.

“Alight, kid,’ Tony said softly. “You’ve just made my day.”

Harry grinned back up at him, feeling a warmth inside that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time, he really felt like he had a family. A real family.

Steve, watching the tender exchange, couldn’t help but smile, happy to see the bond between father and son growing stronger. He knew that there would probably be challenges up ahead, but in that moment, everything felt right.

After the morning’s playful chaos, things settled back to normal in the Stark household. Harry soon discovered that Tony and Steve had been attempting to make pancakes, but their bickering had landed up with the kitchen being a disaster zone. Flour covered nearly every surface, and the two men, despite their best intentions, had made a mess of the kitchen. Harry, amused by the two supposed adults, took charge and made breakfast. Keeping a close eye on them, while they mainly cleaned up the kitchen and themselves.

Once breakfast was over, it was time to head to the airport. Harry found himself struggling to coax Hedwig into her cage, knowing that animals needed to be secured during flights. Tony, however, waved off his concerns, reassuring him that it wasn’t necessary.

So, there he was, standing in a part of the airport he didn’t even know existed, Hedwig perched comfortably on his shoulder, as they approached the plane that would take him to his new home.

Harry wasn’t greeted by the commercial plane he thought he would see, but rather a sleek, slender private jet stood there. Its steps were already lowered and ready for boarding. A man who must have been the captain descended the steps to greet them. He knew his dad was wealthy, but not to this level. It was a tangible reminder of just how different his life would be now.

As they climbed the steps and entered the jet, Hedwig flew from Harry’s shoulder to perch on the back of one of the seats, surveying the area with a keen, curious gaze. The interior was impressive, though not overly large. The main cabin area had a comfortable layout, with different seating areas, and what seemed to be a separate room towards the back.

Steve quickly claimed one of the single seats, settling in with a contented sigh. While Tony took the double seat, sitting across from Steve, and motioned for Harry to join him. Harry sat down beside his dad, the leather seat plush and comfortable beneath him.

Moments later, the captain reappeared, explaining apologetically that there was no air hostess available for the flight. The air hostesses probably didn’t want to sign the NDA. The pilot offered to show them how to operate anything they might need, but Tony dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. They were more than capable of managing on their own. Soon after, the jet engines hummed to life, and they were airborne, leaving London behind.

It was a 7-hour flight in total, but Tony insisted there was no rush, encouraging them all to take it slow. Harry sensed that his dad was mentally bracing himself for whatever awaited them on the other side of the Atlantic. To pass the time, Tony and Steve began telling Harry about the Avengers, sharing stories and bits of information about the team.

Tony spoke at length about Bruce, his admiration for the scientist as he described Bruce’s “beautiful mind,” as he put it. Steve recounted his encounters with Natasha and Clint, his respect for their skills evident in his voice. Both men, however, had less to say about Thor, their experiences with the Asgardian had been limited. Tony also mentioned Pepper, although not as much as he had expected. His thoughts were too preoccupied with the boy sitting beside him.

As the plane glided smoothly through the air, the gentle motion and soft hum of the engines began to lull Harry into a state of drowsiness. Before long, his head began to droop, and he finally succumbed to sleep, his head falling softly onto Tony’s shoulder. Tony smiled down at him, a quiet sense of contentment settling in. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Tony shifted Harry, letting the boy’s head rest in his lap. With Harry now sleeping peacefully, Tony leaned back in his seat, his hand gently resting on Harry’s shoulder.

The cabin fell into a comfortable silence, each man lost to themselves. Steve seated across from them, glanced over occasionally, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched the two. Tony had started to do some work, but still kept one hand on Harry.

Tony gently shook Harry awake as the plane began its descent. Harry was still half-asleep when they landed. Harry groggily followed his dad and Steve off the plane, but he quickly snapped to full alertness when he saw the mob of people on the other side of the fencing. They were shouting and waving cameras, the flashes from the lenses creating a disorienting strobe effect. Although their words were indistinct due to the distance, the intensity of their presence was undeniable.

Sensing Harry’s anxiety, Tony turned to him, placing a reassuring hand in his messy hair, giving it a playful ruffle. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’ve got this. You don’t need to say anything. Plus, I’m not giving them anything to chew on just yet. They can wait until we hold a press conference.”

With that, Tony confidently made his way towards the fence, where the crowd’s noise reached a fever pitch. Meanwhile, Harry and Steve quickly got into the waiting car, nodding at Happy sitting in the driver’s seat. Harry glanced back, watching as Tony exchanged a few brief words with the reporters before making his way to the car. As Tony slid into the seat next to him, the clamour of the crowd was left behind, replaced by the quiet hum of the vehicle.

Tony sighed as he settled into his seat, the tension momentarily leaving his shoulders. “Happy, good to see you. Take us home,” he instructed, his voice tinged with weariness. Happy nodded, casting a concerned glance at Tony through the rearview mirror.

The drive was mostly silent, the only sound being the gentle hum of the car and the soft rustling of the city outside. Harry, still trying to process everything, gazed out the window in awe as the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets of New York City whizzed by. His mind raced, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the city and the fact that this was his new home.

As the car slowed down, Harry’s eyes went wide at the sight of a massive, gleaming tower coming into view. Its sleek design and impressive height made it stand out against the skyline, and Harry could hardly believe what he was seeing.

“You live here?” Harry asked, his voice filled with amazement.

Tony chuckled. “Harry, I own the building.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as he tried to wrap his mind around that fact. “Merlin’s beard, that’s so cool.” He exclaimed.

Steve, who had been listening quietly, raised an eyebrow at the expression. “Merlin’s beard?” he repeated, puzzled.

Harry blushed slightly. “Ah, it’s an expression… I think. I’m not really sure. I’ve heard other things with his name that don’t sound very nice.” Like Merlin’s saggy balls, Harry thought.

Steve blinked in surprise. “Wait, Merlin, is real? I thought you were joking.” Steve hadn’t seen any mentions of him in the books they had read so far.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, but he lived a long time ago. There’s even something called the Order of Merlin. I think it’s an honour given to witches and wizards who’ve done great things.”

Tony, sensing that the conversation could easily spiral into a lengthy discussion, decided to refocus their attention. “Alright, we can dive into the history of Merlin later. Right now, it’s time to introduce you to the rest of the team, kiddo.”

As the car came to a stop inside the building’s parking area, Happy gave Tony a questioning look through the rearview mirror. Tony responded with a subtle gesture that, I’ll fill you in later, and Happy nodded in understanding.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s head to the elevator,” Tony said, leading the way. As they stepped inside, Tony couldn’t help but smile as he addressed his digital son. “Jarvis! Oh, it feels so good to have you everywhere again and not confined to small spaces. Tell the others to meet us on the party deck. There’s someone I want to introduce them to. Make sure Pepper is there as well.”

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis responded smoothly. “Miss Potts is already waiting for you, but I will notify her. It’s good to have you back, sir.”

Once inside the elevator, Tony could hardly contain his excitement.  He was practically bouncing on his feet, a mix of eagerness to introduce Harry to the team and nervousness about how they might react. The anticipation was written all over his face. Sensing his dad’s jitters, Harry reached out and grabbed Tony’s hand, offering silent reassurance. Tony glanced down at his son and smiled, gently ruffling his hair as a way to ease his own nerves.

As the elevator doors slid open, the sounds of the team’s chatter filled the air. Steve stepped out first, moving ahead to greet the others, while Tony and Harry lingered just outside the elevator. Tony took a deep breath, his heart racing with a mixture of pride and anxiety. He pulled Harry into a hug, it was brief but heartful, it seemed to ground him, giving him the strength he needed to face the others.

Releasing Harry, Tony took his hand again, giving it a comforting squeeze before they walked forward together. As they rounded the corner, the team’s conversation came to an abrupt halt, all eyes turned to them, and focused on Harry. The room was filled with a mixture of curiosity and surprise as they took in the sight of Tony and the boy by his side. Steve was already standing with the others, his expression warm and encouraging, as if silently telling Tony that everything would be alright.

Pepper stood with her arms crossed, a look of mild irritation and surprise on her face, clearly ready to scold Tony for keeping something from her. Natasha’s face was unreadable, her calm demeanour giving nothing away. Clint’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, as if trying to piece together what he was seeing. Meanwhile, Bruce was clearly processing the situation, his analytical mind already working overtime to understand the dynamics at play.

Tony cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hey, guys,” he began, his voice steady. “I want you to meet my son, Harry. He’s going to be living with us from now on.”

Chapter Text

Previously in A Longing for Family:

Tony cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hey, guys,” he began, his voice steady. “I want you to meet my son, Harry. He’s going to be living with us from now on.”

Tony nudged Harry gently, silently encouraging him to speak up. Harry hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of all the eyes on him and the silence within the room. He managed to muster up the courage to break the tension.

“Hello, I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you all,” he said, his voice clear but tinged with nerves.

The room remained silent for a beat, everyone processing the unexpected introduction. Then, Clint, never one to stay quiet for long, spoke up, breaking the awkward silence. “Wait, your child’s British? You never even go there. So how is it that when a kid of yours does pop up, he’s British?” His tone was a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew this would be complicated, but Clint had a way of cutting straight to the point. “Birdbrain,” Tony began, already feeling the headache forming. “I’ve always been careful in my past… endeavours. Harry was… how do I put this? Harry was me helping out a genuinely nice couple who were struggling to have a child. He hasn’t just ‘popped up,’ as you put it. Some things have happened, and now he’s in my custody. Should’ve happened a lot sooner, but I’ll be looking into it.”

Natasha, ever observant, leaned forward slightly from her spot on the couch, her sharp eyes narrowing. “What ‘things’ happened, Tony?” she asked, her voice calm.

Tony met her gaze, understanding why she was asking. “While I would love to tell you, Tasha,” he replied, “I think that’s Harry’s story to share, if he chooses to.”

Her eyes flicked to Harry, then back to Tony, a silent exchange passing between them. Pepper, who had been quietly watching the entire interaction, remained silent, her gaze locked on Tony, processing everything without saying a word.

“Now,” Tony continued, shifting the focus back to introductions, “let me introduce you properly. The lovely redhead standing in the back is Pepper. The other lovely redhead sitting over there is Natasha, a.k.a Black Widow. Birdbrain, as you already know is Clint, a.k.a Hawkeye. And over here, we have the only other person with brains on the team, Bruce Banner, and his… other half is the Hulk. And of course, you already know Cap.”

Bruce, who had been standing slightly back, took a cautious step forward. “Tony,” he started, his voice carrying a note of concern, “Is it really a good idea for me to stay here? Especially now that your kid is going to be living here. At least, I assume that’s the case?”

Before Tony could answer, Harry spoke up, his tone polite but curious. “What do you mean Mr Bruce, sir?”

Bruce hesitated, unsure of how much to explain, but Tony jumped in to clarify. “Bruce’s other half only comes out when he’s really angry, and he turns into a big green being who calls himself Hulk.”

Harry, showing more bravery than perhaps anyone expected, replied with a calm certainty. “I don’t see anything to be afraid of, Mr Bruce. I’ve defeated a troll and a basilisk before. I’m not afraid.”

The room erupted in laughter, the Avengers assuming the boy was joking, treating his words as nothing more than overactive imagination. Bruce chuckled along with them, but it was clear the tension had eased slightly. However, as the laughter died down, Tony and Steve’s serious expressions caught their attention.

Clint, still smiling but now with a hint of doubt, asked, “You’re not joking, are you, kid?”

“No, he isn’t,” Tony interjected before Harry could respond. “But it’s not the time for that discussion. There are things we need to figure out before Harry might even be allowed to tell you, something about a Statute of Secrecy or whatever. But since I’m his father, I’ve bypassed all that red tape.”

The mood in the room shifted as the Avengers processed this new layer of complexity. Tony didn’t want an argument to start, so he decided to cut the conversation short. “Now, as much as I’d love for everyone to continue getting to know each other. I think Harry and I should go settle in. Maybe we can all meet for dinner later today and continue this then. For now, let’s leave it at that.

“And just a heads-up, if any of you think about searching for info on my son, consider yourselves warned. And if anyone even thinks of informing Fury or S.H.I.E.L.D. about Harry, you might find yourselves enjoying the great outdoors, known as the streets, more often.”

With that, Tony gave a final nod to the room, then turned to lead Harry away from the party deck, leaving the Avengers with more questions than answers. As they left, the team exchanged looks, the unspoken understanding that this was just the beginning of a much larger story.

Tony led Harry up to the penthouse, using the private elevator up to the floor. They passed through the sleek, modern living area, then ascended the spiral staircase to the upper level, where Tony’s private quarters were located. The metallic steps echoing under their feet.

This floor held Tony’s bedroom, a mini lab that doubled as an office, and a spare room that Pepper usually occupied when she visited. It wasn’t particularly large by Tony’s standards, but he couldn’t help but feel it might be too small for his son.

As they reached the hallway, Tony paused, glancing down at Harry. “Now, Harry,” he began, his voice gentle, “there’s a spare room here that you call your own. But if you still want to stay with me in my room, that’s completely okay too.” Tony’s mind drifted for a moment, he wouldn’t mind at all if Harry wanted to stay close, he would be able to keep him safe. He knew he’d only insist on Harry having his own space once puberty hit.

Harry hesitated, his small hand brushing the bannister as he considered. “Ah… I… I can still stay with you? But, um… maybe I should start sleeping in another room. I don’t want to invade your space.”

Tony crouched down slightly, meeting Harry’s eyes with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, Harry. It doesn’t bother me at all. But if you want to start sleeping in your own room, that’s also okay. If you feel like staying in your own room but want to hop into my bed when you feel like it, that’s fine by me too.”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Thanks… dad. I think I might take you up on that last offer.”

Tony’s heart swelled at the word “dad,” something he was still getting used to but loved hearing. He ruffled Harry’s messy hair, a grin spreading across his face. “No problem, mini-me.” Tony motioned towards the room. “Now, let me show you your new room, and you can tell if there’s anything you want to change about it.”

Tony opened the door, revealing a room that was simple but well-appointed. The queen-sized bed, neatly made with crisp clean sheets, dominated the space, flanked by matching side tables. Built-in wardrobes lined the wall, offering more storage than Harry would likely ever need. The far wall was taken up by floor-to-ceiling windows, flooding the room with natural light. A sturdy desk sat in front of the windows, inviting Harry to sit and look over the city as he worked.

Opposite the bed, a large flat-screen TV hung on the wall, and there was a door that fit seamlessly into the wall, hiding a bathroom in there. The bathroom was sleek, with a modern shower, that could fit five people. There was also a free-standing bathtub and a toilet tucked behind a frosted glass divider. There sink was set in black granite and with a large mirror above it.

To Tony, the room was modest and functional; nothing fancy by his standards. But when he looked down at Harry, he saw his son’s eyes widen in awe. To Harry, this was the best room he’d ever seen. It wasn’t as grand as his dad’s room in London, but it was more than enough for a twelve-year-old who had spent years sleeping in a cramped cupboard under the stairs or in a cold, impersonal dormitory.

“This is… amazing,” Harry murmured, stepping further into the room. He ran a hand over the soft bedspread, then turned to look at his dad, his green eyes shining with gratitude.

Tony felt a lump in his throat at the sight of Harry’s genuine happiness. He knew this wasn’t just about the room, it was about Harry finally having a place where he belonged, a place where he was wanted. “I’m glad you like it, kiddo,” Tony said softly. “But if there’s anything you want to change, anything at all, just let me know. This is your space.”

Harry hesitated, glancing around the room again. “Ah, not really, it’s so amazing in here. But maybe, uh, can we change the colours, so it isn’t so grey? Not that it isn’t nice, but I’d like some colours in my room.”

“Sure thing, kid. Got any colours in mind?” Tony asked, curious to see what his son would choose.

Harry’s face brightened as he thought about it. “Maybe some shades of red, like your suit? And a few other colours that go with it?”

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle. “Harry just because I wear those colours doesn’t mean you have to like them. But don’t tell Cap I said that. I’m still trying to get him to try on the red and gold suit I designed for him.”

Harry grinned, shaking his head. “I still want to. Red was my house colour at Hogwarts, and it kind of grew on me. I also like the red of your suit, just no gold, please. That’s a bit much.”

Tony smiled warmly, appreciating that Harry was starting to assert his own preferences. “Red it is, then. We’ll get that sorted out this week.” He knew it was Sunday, so getting someone in to paint today would be difficult, but he’d make sure it was done as soon as possible. He sat down on the bed and patted the space next to him, inviting Harry to join him.

Once Harry settled beside him, Tony’s tone grew more serious. “This is completely up to you, but if you want to tell the others about how you came into my custody, we can do it together, and I trust them with my life. We try not to keep things from each other, but this isn’t just my story to tell, it’s yours too. So, if you don’t want to share, that’s okay.

“It doesn’t have to today, either. Just whenever you’re ready. Well, maybe not whenever, I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night for a serious talk. Sleep is a precious thing around here,” he added with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “But the decision is yours.”

Harry considered this, his brow furrowing slightly. “I mean, I don’t mind telling them. If you trust your team so much, I should be able to trust them too. I just don’t know how I feel about giving all the details. I don’t really want them to know that my parents were murdered by a mad dark lord who was trying to kill me… a one-year-old baby. Some things I’d rather keep to myself for now, especially when it comes to magic, at least until we’ve figured everything out.”

Tony nodded, understanding the weight of what Harry was saying. “That’s perfectly fine. We can do this together, and if there’s anything I start saying that you don’t want me to, just tell me to stop.”

Harry looked up at Tony and nodded, “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, mini-me,” Tony said. “We’re in this together.”

Tony put his arm around Harry’s shoulder and grabbed the remote, switching the TV on. They spent the rest of the day lounging together, watching movies, and enjoying the rare calm before dinner, where they would finally share their story with the others.

When dinner time arrived, Jarvis gently informed them that the team was gathered in the dining area and that pizza had been ordered. Tony had briefly forgotten that the rest of the team weren’t particularly skilled in the kitchen. They could manage for themselves, but feeding a group? Pizza was the go-to solution.

As they entered the family dining room, everyone was already seated, engaged in various conversations. Slices of pizza on their plates and boxes scattered across the table. The room briefly fell silent as they walked in, with everyone except Pepper giving them a brief glance before returning to their discussions. Pepper, however, kept her eyes locked on Tony, her annoyance evident. Tony met her gaze with a slight glare that conveyed his frustration, what? He took a seat next to Steve, with Harry settling in beside him and Natasha on Harry’s other side.

Clint broke the silence, his tone light. “So, kid, where’re you from?”

“I’m from Surrey, sir,” Harry answered, a bit shyly.

“None of that ‘sir’ stuff,” Clint replied with a grin. “I’ve got kids younger than you. Just call me Clint, okay?”

Harry nodded, relaxing a bit. “Okay… Clint.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at Clint, suddenly curious. “Wait, birdbrain, you have children?”

Clint shot Tony a wry smile. “Tony, you’ve gotta have noticed that I don’t permanently live in the tower. I’m only here when the breaks between missions are short.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Pepper, her voice sharp. “As much as Clint’s family matter is entertaining, Tony. Why didn’t you tell any of us when you left? Or for that matter, why you would leave at all?”

Tony sighed, trying to keep his temper in check. “Jeez, Pepper, am I not allowed to live my own life? Some things are more important than the business. If you had a kid who suddenly needed your help, I’m sure you’d drop everything to help them.”

“If I had a child, Tony, they would be with me in the first place. I wouldn’t have to fly across the globe to help them,” Pepper shot back, her voice tinged with frustration.

Tony’s eyes narrowed, his tone defensive, “Pepper, don’t say things like that when you don’t know the full story. You don’t know the circumstances around Harry’s birth!”

“Then enlighten me!” Pepper challenged, frustration and anger evident in her voice.

Tony crossed his arms, his voice turning sulky. “No, I don’t think I will, especially when you’re acting like this.”

Pepper glared at him for a moment before pushing back her chair and storming out of the room in silence.

The room was thick with tension until Bruce spoke up, trying to diffuse the situation. “Not that she wasn’t out of line, Tony, but how did Harry come about if you say you were careful?”

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s actually not that amazing of a story. Almost 14 years ago, I met this couple at some function in London. After a while of chatting with Lily, Harry’s mother, she called her husband over, and they asked if I’d be willing to help them. James, Harry’s adoptive father, couldn’t have children. They came from a very uptight, strict background, so they couldn’t just get anyone to help. But I looked enough like James that no one would notice he wasn’t the biological father. We made an agreement, and I was only supposed to meet Harry when he turned 21. Unless, of course, something happened to Lily or James.”

Tony paused, his expression darkening. “And something did. About a year after Harry was born, both Lily and James passed away. Harry was sent to live with Lily’s sister and her family. I don’t why I wasn’t notified, I have my suspicions, but that’s a story for another time. When the attack happened last year. I had Jarvis try and find the Potters. Two weeks ago, Jarvis alerted me that Harry had been in a car accident. His uncle died, and his aunt is still in the ICU. Though frankly, they all deserve a worse fate.

“Harry’s cousin went to live with his dad’s sister. As soon as I found out, I flew out and had DNA tests done to prove Harry was mine and got him into my custody. I’m still waiting for his aunt to wake up so she can be charged with child neglect and endangerment. No one hurts a Stark and gets away with it. But that’s the gist of it.”

Tony glanced at Harry, his expression softening. “Anything you want to add, Harry?”

Harry shook his head slightly, his voice steady. “Not really. You got everything. I’d rather not go into the details of their abuse again, especially so soon.”

Natasha’s eyes softened as she opened her arms, silently offering Harry comfort. “Oh, sweet child, come here.”

Harry hesitated for a moment before leaning into her embrace, feeling a sense of safety and warmth as Natasha gently stocked his back. Her hug was tender and motherly, and Harry melted into it, grateful for the unexpected comfort.

Natasha shot a warning glare at the others as they exchanged surprised looks. It wasn’t every day that they saw Natasha willingly give out hugs.

After that, dinner continued in a peaceful lull, the earlier tension disappeared into the warmth of casual conversation. Harry listened intently as the team bantered back and forth, occasionally chiming in when asked a question or when he felt he had something to contribute. He found himself smiling more often than he expected, comforted by the easy camaraderie amongst the group.

As the meal wound down, and the plates were emptied, Tony caught Harry’s eye, giving him a small, reassuring smile. When everything was put aside to be washed, Tony and Harry said their goodbyes and headed back up to the penthouse, leaving the others to retreat to their rooms on the lower floors.

Once in the penthouse, Tony helped Harry get ready for bed, tucking him in with care. He lingered by Harry’s side for a moment, brushing a stray lock of hair from the boy’s forehead. “Goodnight, kiddo,” Tony whispered, his voice tender.

“Goodnight, Dad,” Harry replied, a soft smile on his lips as he snuggled into the blankets.

Satisfied that Harry was settled, Tony returned to his room. He sprawled across the bed, his tablet in hand, going through some work emails and plans he had been putting off. But even as he worked, his thoughts kept drifting, not understanding why Pepper was acting like she was.

After a while, Tony felt a slight dip in the mattress beside him. He looked over to see Harry, who had quietly crept into the room and was now curling up on the other side of the bed, his eye half-closed with sleepiness.

Without a word, Tony set aside his work and reached out, pulling Harry close. The boy nestled into his father’s side, feeling safe and content. “Jarvis, dim the lights,” Tony murmured softly.

The lights in the room gently faded, leaving only a soft glow from the city outside to filter through the curtains. In the quiet of the night, they both fell asleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence.

Chapter Text

It was noon, and Clint Barton had been pacing, waiting for Tony to come down for what felt like hours. In reality, it had only been two hours, but patience had never been his strong suit. Especially when he was eager to continue discussing the new arrow designs, he and Tony had been working on before Tony had unexpectedly left. Growing restless, Clint decided to take matters into his own hands and ventured up to the penthouse.

He slipped silently into Tony’s bedroom, fully expecting to find the genius tinkering with something, or at least awake. Instead, what he found made him pause mid-step. Tony was sprawled on his back, fast asleep, with his son wrapped around him like an octopus. Harry’s limbs were splayed out, one arm draped across Tony’s chest while a leg hooked over his father’s side. It was a heartwarming sight, it reminded him of his own kids. For once Tony Stark, the notorious insomniac was peacefully asleep.

Clint couldn’t resist. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures, grinning at the thought of teasing Tony later. He sent the photos to Natasha, who replied almost immediately with a string of full stops, clearly unimpressed with his antics. Chuckling, Clint made a quiet exit, leaving the two to their rest.

As he went back to the common area, Clint found Natasha already there, lounging on the couch and watching one of her usual survival shows he plopped down beside her, catching a glimpse of some of the idiots struggling to start a fire.

Natasha didn’t take her eye off the screen. “What’s so funny?”

“Just saw Tony and Harry upstairs. Kid’s got him locked down like a squid,” Clint said, still amused.

Natasha arched an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Clint knew she had seen the photos, and while she might not have found them funny, there was a softness in her expression that suggested she wasn’t entirely immune.

“What do you think of Harry?” Clint asked after a moment, his tone more serious.

Natasha shifted slightly, her eyes still on the TV but her mind clearly elsewhere. “He’s a kid who’s been through more than most adults. You can see it in his eyes, the way he flinches at loud noises, how he’s always a little too aware of his surroundings. But he’s got a good heart. You can tell he wants to fit in, to belong.”

She paused, her voice taking on a thoughtful edge. “He’s probably missed out on a lot of his childhood. So, I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t always act his age. Sometimes he might seem older, sometimes younger. And he’s small for his age, but that could work in his favour if he learns how to defend himself.”

Clint glanced at her, recognizing the subtle hint in her words. “You want to train him, don’t you?”

Natasha didn’t deny it. “Only a little. He’s Tony’s son, which means he’s a target. He needs to know how to protect himself.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Clint agreed. “If my kids were his age, they’d already be shooting bows and arrows, if they want to, of course.”

Natasha gave a rare smile, amused by the image of tiny Hawkeyes in the making. “How’s your family doing?”

Clint’s expression softened as he thought of his wife and kids. “Laura’s handling things like a champ, as always. She’s less stressed now that we haven’t had any life-or-death missions recently. Cooper and Lila had a fight the other day, but they patched things up when I let them help fix up some old bows. And little Nathaniel… well, he’s starting on solids. I’m not sorry to be missing those diaper changes.”

“Sounds like little Natasha is growing up strong,” Natasha teased.

Clint groaned, rubbing his face. “I’m starting to regret naming him after you. It’s Nathaniel, Nat.”

Natasha just smirked, tucking her feet under Clint’s leg as she got more comfortable on the couch. They fell into a comfortable silence, the TV droning as they relaxed.

Steve entered the room not long after Clint had settled on the couch. He took one look at Natasha and Clint but didn’t bat an eye, casually joining them, sitting on the other side of Natasha. She leaned against Steve as if it were the most natural thing in the world, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

Clint, always curious, nudged Steve with his elbow but was quickly swatted away but Natasha. “So, Cap, what’s the kid like? You’re the only one besides Tony who’s spent any time with him.”

Steve’s expression softened at the mention of Harry. “He’s a good kid, very kind-hearted. He’s also pretty amazing in the kitchen. But try not to let him feel like he has to be there all the time. He’s still finding his place here, and I don’t want him to doubt that he belongs here.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully before continuing. “I’m only going to share this because it’s important for you to know. His relatives... they made him cook all the meals in their house. It was more like a chore than anything else, so Tony’s been careful about letting him cook only when he wants to, and with someone around. If Harry hears you’re hungry, he might just whip something up, don’t let that be the only thing he thinks he’s good for. And, Clint, the kid’s got a sharp mind. Could probably rival Tony’s one day. I’ve never seen anyone keep up with him so easily.”

Clint whistled low, impressed. “And what’s with the owl in Tony’s lounge?”

Steve smiled fondly. “That’s Hedwig. She’s Harry’s pet, his first friend, really. So, a word of advice; don’t mess with her. She’s fiercely protective and might peck your eyes out if she thinks you’re up to something.”

Natasha chuckled at the thought of an owl attacking Clint, to which he glared at her. They went back to watching TV, occasionally talking about lighter topics as they lounged together. Eventually, Natasha decided it was time for some training, Clint went off to Skype his family, and Steve headed to the kitchen for a snack.

Meanwhile, in Tony’s room, Jarvis gently woke him from his slumber. “Sir, Mr Barton has just left your room after taking some images on his device.”

Tony groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. “Thanks, J. Make sure you get a copy of those photos for me. And keep an eye out, don’t want those ending up anywhere they shouldn’t, not that Birdbrain would do that, but you never know.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony looked down at his still-asleep son, gently shaking him. “Harry, time to wake up, buddy. We need to get you used to the new time zone. Can’t have you sleeping all day.”

Harry mumbled something incoherent into the pillow. “Come on kiddo. We’ve got a letter to write and send to the goblins today. No delaying.”

Harry groaned but finally relented, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. “Fine, I’ll get up.”

“That’s my boy!” Tony grinned, hopping out of bed and grabbing some clothes before heading to the shower.

Harry lay there for a moment longer, listening to the sound of water running in the bathroom. With a sigh, he pushed himself out of bed, heading to his room. He was surprised to find that the clothes his dad had brought him in London were already there, neatly arranged in the wardrobe. He hadn’t noticed when that had happened, but it brought a small smile to his face. Grabbing a t-shirt and jeans, he made his way to the bathroom, deciding a shower was definitely in order.

After he finished, feeling much fresher, Harry padded down to the living area of the penthouse. Hedwig greeted him with a soft hoot from her new perch, and he took a moment to stroke her feathers before heading into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he frowned at the sparse contents. There was only the basics inside.

Shaking his head, Harry decided then and there that he was taking his dad grocery shopping, whether Tony liked it or not. He pulled out the eggs and a lone pack of bacon he found buried in the back of the freezer. Setting the bacon in a bowl of lukewarm water to defrost, he busied himself with making a cup of coffee, knowing his dad would need it.

As he turned to place the coffee on the counter, he found Tony standing there, watching him with a soft smile. “Morning, Dad,” Harry said, holding out the cup.

“Morning, kiddo,” Tony replied, taking the coffee. “You’re getting way too good at this, you know.”

Harry shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Tony’s expression softened further, a trace of concern crossing his features. “Harry, you know you don’t always have to cook, right? It’s my job as your parent to take care of you, even if that means I have to start cooking myself.”

“I know, Dad. You’ve told me that a bunch of times,” Harry reassured him. “But I’ve actually come to enjoy cooking these last weeks. I can make what I want when I want, it’s fun. I’m not forcing myself to, I promise. If I don’t feel like cooking, I won’t, okay?”

Tony let out a small sigh of relief, his smile returning. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re here to be my personal chef or something.”

Harry’s eyes met his dad’s, his voice sincere. “I know that, really. In the short time I’ve been with you. I’ve never felt so loved before.”

Tony’s heart swelled at the words, and he couldn’t resist pulling Harry into a quick, warm hug, ruffling his hair as he released him. “Okay then, mini-me, what are we making, and how can I help?”

Harry glanced around the kitchen, noting the sparse contents of the fridge continued into the rest of the kitchen. “Well, since the kitchen is pretty much empty. We’re doing bacon and eggs, no toast though. We’re definitely going grocery shopping today.”

Tony chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Alright, I usually have other people handle that for me, but I guess we can do it ourselves. You probably will know better about what we will need around here anyway. But first, we’ve got to finish that letter to the goblins. And, by the way, I’m slightly offended you haven’t told me how I can help with breakfast. For the record, I know how to cook, your grandmother made sure of that. I’m just out of practice.” He teased, winking at Harry.

Harry shot him a mischievous grin. “Yeah, but you couldn’t even make pancakes without making a mess.”

Tony burst into laughter, shaking his head. “Touche, guess you’ll just have to teach me.”As Tony downed the rest of his coffee and started making himself another cup, he kept the conversation light, chatting with Harry as the boy cooked. The scent of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen, and soon enough, they were sitting down to a quick breakfast. The meal was simple, but Harry’s skill in the kitchen shone through and Tony couldn’t help but compliment him between bites.

After Breakfast, they moved on to the task of writing a letter to the Goblins. Tony sprawled out on the couch with Harry beside him, while Jarvis helped record everything they wanted to include. The AI chimed in with suggestions now and then, gently steering them away from anything that might be unnecessary. The process took a bit longer than expected, but eventually, they had a complete letter.

Tony held the printed letter in his hands, scanning over it one final time before rolling it up. “Alright, Hedwig, think you can deliver this to the nearest Gringotts?” he asked, holding the rolled-up letter out to the snowy owl, who was perched nearby.

Hedwig hooted softly in response, extending her leg so Tony could attach the letter. Once secured, she gave a small shake, then took off through the door that led outside to the balcony, her wings catching the morning sunlight as she soared into the sky.

Tony watched her disappear, realising this was going to be his life now. He turned back to Harry, who had also been watching Hedwig, a fond expression on his face. “You’re really something, you know that kid?”

Harry glanced up at his dad, his eyes bright. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dad.”

Tony ruffled Harry’s hair again, the gesture filled with affection. “Come on, let’s get ready for that grocery run. We’ve got a kitchen to fill and a lot of time to make up for.”

After finishing up in the penthouse, Tony and Harry headed out to stock up on groceries. Harry felt at peace knowing they were going shopping. It wasn’t just about having food in the fridge; it was about ensuring his dad took care of himself properly. But, true to Tony’s style, they weren’t just going to any ordinary grocery store. Tony had a taste for the finer things in life, so they visited high-end speciality stores, each one either high-end or Tony personally knew the owners.

Tony’s approach to grocery shopping was an experience in itself. Harry quickly noticed that this wasn’t just about picking up essentials. At each store, they were greeted personally by the owners, who seemed eager to accommodate Tony’s every whim.

Harry watched, bemused, as Tony effortlessly negotiated deals for weekly deliveries of the freshest produce and the highest quality meats. It was clear that Tony was in his element and Harry couldn’t help but smile at the whole affair. While he wasn’t entirely sure what made these places better than the local grocery store, he wasn’t about to argue. He was having too much fun.

By the time they finished, the car was packed to the brim with bags and boxes. With the groceries taken care of and weekly deliveries arranged, they headed back to the tower. Tony, ever the delegator, had people waiting to help unload and take everything up to the penthouse. As the staff efficiently transported the haul upstairs, Tony and Harry made their way to the rec room.

Not stopping there, Tony called a few high-end clothing stores, informing them that he would be visiting with a child in tow the next day. He emphasized that he expected nothing less than top-tier service, and while these places usually required a week’s notice for appointments, Tony Stark had never been one to follow the rules.

Harry, glancing over at his dad, noticed the gleam in Tony’s eyes, a mix of excitement and determination. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and as much as he was enjoying it, he was afraid it was a bit much and that he would soon turn into a Malfoy variant.

With his calls finished, Tony finally joined Harry on the couch, the tension from his earlier tasks melting away as he noticed what was on TV. “Cartoons, huh?” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Harry nodded, his eyes glued to the screen, having never really watched them before. “Yeah, I figured we could both use a break.”

Tony smiled, sinking into the cushions beside his son. “You’re probably right. We’ve had quite the morning.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, watching old re-runs on the TV. “Dad?” Harry asked after some time had passed.

“Yes?” Tony responded, feeling warm and fuzzy again.

“What’s going to happen to Petunia?” Harry’s voice was quiet, tinged with uncertainty. “I know you said she’s still in ICU, but what happens when she gets better?”

Tony sighed, knowing this was a difficult topic but one they needed to address. “Well, because of the way she abused you, she’ll be tried in court for child neglect and endangerment. I’ll be pushing for the maximum sentence, but since most of the abuse was mental and emotional, it might be hard to get the full ten years. Still, with the best attorneys and a bit of Stark influence, I’m hopeful we can get some justice.”

Harry listened intently, his head resting on Tony’s shoulder. Tony continued, “As for your uncle, even though he’s gone, his assets are frozen. Anything his family would’ve benefited from his passing is also frozen. They’ll be sold off, and the money will go to charities that help abused children. I may have pushed my name around to get this to happen, it’s not entirely legal, but Vernon’s sister agreed to the terms of the contracts she signed. And your cousin, Dudley, will continue to stay with his aunt, and that’s all I was willing to listen to the last I spoke with my lawyers.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry’s voice was softer now, the weight of his past evident in his tone. “Whatever happens, I’m sure it’ll be what they deserve.” He leaned in closer to Tony, seeking comfort as thoughts of his relatives darkened his mood. Tony placed an arm around Harry, trying to offer him some comfort.

The room fell into silence, the earlier warmth giving way to the sombreness of the topic. Not long after, Clint strolled into the room, breaking the quiet as he flopped into one of the armchairs across from Tony, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, Tony,” he started casually, “I was looking for you earlier. Wanted to go over those arrow designs we talked about before you left. Oh, and by the way, Nat’s thinking about giving Harry some self-defence lessons.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the idea. “Nat training Harry? That actually sounds like a good plan.”

Harry, who had been quietly listening, perked up at the mention of his name. “Wait, are you talking about the arrows or me getting lessons?”

Tony chuckled, a smile playing on his lips. “Both, actually. But I’m more interested in you learning from Natasha. It wouldn’t hurt for you to know how to defend yourself. When I was your age, I had to learn a few things too; kind of comes with the territory of being a Stark, and now, as the son of an Avenger. J, where’s Natahsa?”

“Miss Romanoff is still on the training floor, sir,” Jarvis responded promptly.

Tony nodded, then looked at Harry. “Why don’t you head down and see what she has in mind? Get a feel for some exercises you can start with. Clint and I will be here, nerding out over some tech stuff.”

Harry hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a mix of curiosity and anticipation coursing through him. He made his way to the elevator, feeling a flutter of nerves as he descended to the gym floor. When the doors opened, Jarvis’s voice guided him again.

“Young Harry,” Jarvis said, “if you continue through the gym, you’ll find a door on the far-left side, you’ll find Miss Romanoff inside.”

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Harry replied, grateful for the AI’s help.

“No problem, young Harry,” Jarvis responded warmly.

Walking through the gym, Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place among the sleek machines and equipment. He spotted the door Jarvis had mentioned and approached it, knocking twice before waiting, his heart beating a little faster than usual.

“Come in,” Natasha’s voice called out from the other side.

Harry opened the door and stepped inside, closing it softly behind him. Natasha glanced up from her workout, a hint of surprise in her eyes, quickly replaced by a welcoming smile. “Hey, Harry. What brings you here?”

“Um, hi, Nat… Natasha,” Harry corrected himself. “Clint said you wanted to train me in self-defence, and Dad agreed that it would be a good idea. He said to come down and see where I can get started.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Natasha’s lips. “Sure, I can get you started. But why don’t you join me for a cooldown first? It’s just some stretching, nothing too intense. And please, Harry, just call me Nat.”

Harry glanced down at his clothes, unsure if they were suitable. “Is what I’m wearing okay?”

“You’re fine for today,” Natasha assured him. “But make sure when Tony takes you shopping, you get some workout gear.”

Relieved, Harry moved to her side, trying his best to follow her lead as they stretched. It didn’t take long for him to realize he wasn’t nearly as flexible as Natasha, but his time on a broomstick during Quidditch had given him decent balance and coordination. Natasha noticed his efforts and offered gentle corrections, her tone encouraging and patient.

Once they finished the cooldown, Natasha sat down with Harry on the floor, jotting down a list of exercises he could start with. They also set up a few days each week for more focused training sessions, where she would teach him basic self-defence and help him build up his strength.

As they wrapped up, Harry felt a sense of belonging growing within him. It wasn’t just Tony and Steve anymore; he was surrounded by people who genuinely cared for him, and who wanted to see him grow and thrive. That night, as he lay in his bed, Harry felt a deep contentment settling over him. He was finally surrounded by adults who actually seemed to care for him.

Chapter Text

The morning light filtered through the windows as Harry sat at the kitchen island, absently spooning cereal into his mouth. Across from him, Tony sipped his coffee, his attention divided between the steaming mug and the Stark-pad in his hand, where various schematics and notes flashed across the screen. The kitchen was calm, filled with the soft hum of appliances and the occasional ding coming from the Stark-pad as Tony scrolled.

A knocking caught their attention, Hedwig was standing outside the glass doors wanting to be let in. Harry went to open the doors and before he could go to greet her, she flew inside, swooped down and landed on the kitchen counter. Harry went back to his seat, fishing out some owl treats for her. He noticed a small envelope was attached to her leg. Harry paused, putting the treats down so he could untie the letter. Harry smiled, petting her feathers, she flew off after finishing her treats, likely to be found on her perch in the lounge.

Harry examined the envelope, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the formal seal of Gringotts pressed into the wax. His dad noticed the change in his demeanour and set the tablet aside, coming over just as Harry broke the seal and watched the parchment enlarge to its proper size.

“Gringotts?” Tony asked, leaning over Harry’s shoulder to get a better look, Harry nodded in confirmation.

Harry scanned the letter, his eyes widening slightly as he read aloud:

Dear Dr Stark and Heir Potter-Slytherin,

We have received your letter and have an available timeslot for you to visit on the 17^th of July 2013, at 12:30 pm. Be advised to arrive earlier than the given time.

We await your arrival.

Gringotts, New York City Branch.

Tony straightened; his expression thoughtful. “Well, I guess that settles our plans for tomorrow,” he said, glancing at the date on the letter. “July 17^th, that’s tomorrow, 12:30 sharp.”

Harry nodded, but a small from creased his forehead as he re-read his name. “I’m not sure if I should’ve claimed the heirship to the Slytherin line,” he admitted quietly. “I know that I did it to get access to the books, but who knows what those books are about? What if they’re full of bigotry, or forbidden magic.”

Tony could sense the uncertainty in Harry’s voice. He sat down beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You did what you thought was right,” he said gently. “And knowledge is power, Harry. Whatever those books contain, I’ll be there to go over them with you. You’re not alone in this, we’ll face it together.”

Harry nodded pensively. “And it’s not like you have to claim the title completely,” Tony said. “Maybe after we see what the books are about, you could return the title. However, that does sound strange and is probably not something they would allow. But who knows? When you’re older, you might be able to bestow the title to someone else. Just how that Godfather’s claim allowed you to have a stake in the Black titles. We can ask the goblins tomorrow. They’ll know for sure.”

Tony smiled, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I get that. But remember, you don’t have to decide everything right now. One step at a time. Okay, kiddo?”

Harry looked up at his dad, the worry in his eyes easing a little at Tony’s words. The kitchen felt warmer, and more secure, as Tony’s confidence bolstered his own. He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Yeah, we’ll get through this together.”

Tony grinned, ruffling Harry’s hair before standing up to refill his coffee. “Now, finish up your cereal. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

After finishing breakfast and getting dressed, Harry and Tony headed out for the day. Painters were scheduled to arrive to repaint Harry’s room, and there was a pressing need for new clothes. The ones that Jarvis had gotten, weren’t the right size. And from what Harry had told them, his wardrobe had been sparse for as long as he could remember, so Tony was making it his mission to change that.

Their first stop was a store with a name that Harry found odd, he didn’t even know how to read it. However, as soon as he walked inside, he had a feeling it would be his favourite stop of the day. The shop was vibrant, with colourful clothes neatly displayed on racks, and the cheerful atmosphere put him at ease.

They hadn’t been inside for long before Tony started grabbing one of everything in Harry’s size. Harry’s eyes widened in shock as the pile of clothes grew larger and larger. No one had ever spent this much on him before, it felt overwhelming, almost wasteful. He couldn’t imagine wearing everything they were picking out.

“Dad, this is a lot,” Harry said hesitantly, his eyes wide as more and more clothes piled up.

Tony glanced at him with a reassuring smile. “If there’s anything you don’t wear, you can always donate it. There’s no pressure to keep it all.” It was a simple reassurance, but it eased Harry’s worries, so he decided not to protest.

The cashier, on the other hand, seemed to be in a state of shock as they rang up the mountain of clothes. Harry couldn’t tell if it was because of his dad’s reputation, or the sheer amount of items being purchased. As the clothes were being gathered, Harry spotted a jersey in the mix that caught his eye. It was vibrant, blues that melted into each other like watercolours with a brushstroke smiley face. He instantly loved it and was definitely going to be wearing it often.

When he noticed that two more identical jerseys had joined the pile, he turned to Tony with a questioning look, only to be met with a cheeky wink. “A good find deserves a backup or two.”

After about half an hour, they finally left the store, the bags scheduled to be sent directly to the tower later in the day. As they drove to the next location, Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit dazed by the whirlwind of shopping, but there was also a growing excitement in him. This was all for him, and it was so far from anything he’d ever known.

Their next stop was a much larger store, one that seemed to cater specifically to kids his age. The sign overhead read “Couture Kids,” and at least this time, Harry thought the name made sense. As they walked in, Tony grabbed a trolley, but they hadn’t gone far before a shop assistant approached and offered to push it for them. Harry was starting to get used to the VIP treatment, but it still felt strange.

Tony continued his spree, picking up anything in Harry’s size and sometimes grabbing multiples if it was something simple and practical. Harry watched in amazement as the trolley filled to the brim, clothes piled so high that it looked like something might topple over at any moment.

As they moved down one aisle, Tony passed by a display of shirts, Harry noticed that Tony skipped over them without a second glance. Curious, Harry took a closer look and saw that they were Iron Man T-shirts. He paused, drawn to the designs, he couldn’t resist. He quickly grabbed a few and slipped them into the trolley. But Tony noticed, and Harry blushed, caught in the act.

Tony looked at the shirts, then at Harry, feeling a warm, fuzzy sensation deep inside; something that had nothing to do with his arc reactor. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear anything with me on it, so I skipped those,” Tony admitted with a sheepish grin. Seeing Harry go out of his way to pick up those shirts made him wonder if this is what a family felt like.

Their next stop was “Abercrombie Kids,” where the process repeated itself. Tony was buying everything in Harry’s size. This time, they found some workout clothes that would be perfect for Harry’s upcoming training sessions. As they moved from store to store, Harry began to notice that all the places they visited were quite expensive. He hesitated before finally asking his dad about it.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Tony explained with a grin. “Today won’t even make a dent in my fortune. Plus, I like spending my money on others; especially you.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that logic, so he let Tony continue. They visited a few speciality stores, picking up winter wear, underwear, socks, and shoes; anything they hadn’t found earlier.

After their shopping spree, Tony and Harry made a quick stop at an eyewear store that also housed an optometrist. Harry’s glasses needed updating, and Tony wanted to ensure he had an abundance of both regular and prescription glasses and sunglasses. Harry went through the check-up process, making sure they had the right prescription before they focused on selecting frames. Harry was fascinated by the variety of styles, and with Tony’s encouragement, he picked out several pairs that suited him well.

Before heading back to the Tower, Tony had one more stop in mind, he had already called ahead to ensure that the store was prepared. This wasn’t just any store, it was a small, antique-looking boutique that normally didn’t cater to children. But they would make an exception for a Stark. When they pulled up in front of the boutique, they were greeted at the door by the store’s owner, a distinguished man named Allen.

“Good afternoon, Mr Stark. It’s always a pleasure to see you. Is this the young gentleman we’ll be fitting today?” Allen greeted them warmly, his eyes assessing Harry with a professional curiosity.

“Hello, Allen. The pleasure’s mine. And yes, this is Harry,” Tony replied with a smile. “He’s the one getting fitted today.”

As they stepped inside, Harry’s eyes widened in awe at the sight of all the suits lining the walls. The boutique was elegant, with a refined air that made him feel like he had stepped into another world. It was a far cry from the casual stores they had visited earlier. The suits were meticulously displayed, each one a masterpiece of tailoring.

Before long, Harry found himself standing with his arms outstretched as Allen took his measurements. The experience reminded him of his first trip to Diagon Alley for his Hogwarts robes, though this time, there were no magic tapestries or sneering Draco Malfoy to contend with. Allen worked with swift precision, jotting down every measurement as he went, his demeanour calm and focused. Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed during some of the more personal measurements, but Allen’s professionalism put him at ease.

Once the measuring was complete, Allen brought out several large books filled with fabric swatches. Instead of paper, the pages were made entirely of different fabrics, each one representing a possible choice for the suits.

“If you’d like to go through these and let me know your preferences, I can start crafting the suits,” Allen said, handing one book to Tony and another to Harry. Tony motioned for Harry to join him on the plush seating in the room, a small but comfortable settee placed strategically in the corner.

As they flipped through the fabric books, Tony pointed out various materials to Allen, favouring the classic blacks, rich beiges, subtle browns, and one striking white fabric. Harry, who was still getting used to the idea of owning so many suits, hesitated before choosing a deep maroon fabric that caught his eye. He liked how the colour was both bold and understated, a reflection of his growing confidence.

Allen took careful notes, planning out six suits in total. He decided on two black suits, one as a backup, along with one in maroon for Harry, and another in charcoal black. He skipped the white fabric, knowing it would wash out Harry’s complexion, but chose a deep brown that would complement him well. A blue-black suit rounded out the selection, with the idea that patterned suits could be introduced later as Harry got older.

“Everything should be ready in about a month, Mr Stark,” Allen said. “I will also make sure to include matching button-downs, as well as suitable ties.” He closed his notebook with a satisfied nod. “Thank you for your continued support of my store. With the right haircut, the boy will look just like, Mr Stark.”

Tony chuckled at the comparison. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not my father, then. Harry’s his own person, and I don’t ever expect him to be like me.”

“Indeed, Mr Stark,” Allen agreed with a knowing smile. “Rest assured, you can expect nothing but the finest material and craftsmanship in these suits.”

“Thank you, Allen. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Tony replied, standing up and guiding Harry towards the door. Final goodbyes were said before the two headed back to the car, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the city streets.

As they drove back to the tower, weaving through the typical New York traffic, Harry looked out the window, feeling a mixture of excitement and exhaustion. Today had been overwhelming in the best way possible, filled with experiences he’d never imagined having.

Tony glanced over at his son, a quiet pride evident in his eyes. “You handled today like a champ, Harry,” he remarked, reaching over to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Harry smiled, the warmth from his father’s words easing the lingering fatigue. “Thanks, Dad. It was a lot, but I’m glad we did it together.”

Their return to the Tower was smooth, the building's sleek architecture was a stark contrast to the bustling city outside. As they entered the building, the place was unusually quiet, suggesting that most of the staff had headed home. Expecting a peaceful evening, Tony and Harry headed upstairs.

However, as they opened the door to the penthouse, they were greeted by a mountain of shopping bags cluttering the entrance and lounge area. The sight was both amusing and overwhelming.

“Huh, I didn’t think we had brought that much. Well, I guess we should take everything to your room and start unpacking,” Tony said, surveying the piles. It was clear they wouldn’t be finished by nighttime.

Just as Tony reached out to grab a bunch of bags, his phone rang, breaking the moment.

"Sir, I would advise you to pick up the call. The same number has tried to call you multiple times today, and I believe it is the child-care service person handling Harry's case," Jarvis, informed him calmly.

Tony groaned, realizing he couldn't ignore the call any longer. He glanced at Harry, who was watching him with a mix of curiosity and concern. Taking a deep breath, Tony answered the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Stark. You are a very difficult person to get hold of," the man on the other end of the line grumbled.

"Hello, Mr. Green. I hope everything is going well," Tony replied smoothly, masking any irritation. As he spoke, Harry watched closely, recognizing the familiar voice.

Tony smiled reassuringly at his son before taking the conversation into the kitchen, Harry trailing behind.

“I’m calling to inform you that the procedures against the late Mr Dursley have been finalized with his sister. It has been agreed that his assets will remain frozen and will be sold or auctioned. The proceeds, along with any payouts from insurance claims, will be consolidated into a single fund. Half of this sum will be donated to charities supporting abused children. The remaining half will be divided into three parts; two-thirds will go to Dudley, and one-third will be allocated to Harry.”

“The money can just go to charity,” Tony said, watching as Harry pulled ingredients from the cupboards and fridge, preparing what looked like pasta for dinner. “It’s not like Harry will ever need it, but I’ll discuss it with him later.”

“Understood. You can finalise that decision with your solicitor when the time comes. As for Mrs Dursley, she regained consciousness this morning. After the proceedings of today, she was found guilty of child abuse, neglect, and endangerment on both accounts of Harry and his cousin Dudley.

“She tried to proclaim innocence over Skype, but she was not entirely clear-headed and gave herself away. Once she is deemed stable, the court will assess whether she shows any remorse. Based on the outcome, the judge will decide the length of her sentence, and if it’s served consecutively or concurrently. Given the gravity of the offences and the involvement of both children, your solicitor is pushing for a substantial sentence served consecutively. It’s likely she’ll face up to 20 years in prison.”

Tony sighed, thinking about the impact this would have on Dudley. Even though he was a bully. “That poor boy. Let’s hope this helps him, especially if the things Harry has told me about his upbringing are anything to go by.”

“Dudley’s situation has been carefully considered. For now, it’s been decided that he will remain with his aunt under close supervision from social services. He’ll also need to participate in a rehabilitation program to address his weight and any associated health issues.”

“Hopefully, this time will also help correct his attitude,” Tony commented thoughtfully.

“Indeed, Mr Stark. And can I say, your legal representation has been exceptional throughout this process, it’s rare to see such cases handled so swiftly.”

“That’s what happens when you hire the best solicitors in the country,” Tony remarked a hint of pride in his voice.

“Indeed. And lastly, Mr Stark, there will be a follow-up assessment on Harry by the UK’s Child Protection Services. They’ll be ensuring that his living conditions have significantly improved and that he’s thriving in your care. While he may be nearing his teenage years, children who have experienced abuse can be particularly vulnerable at this age. It’s not uncommon for someone to experience age regression or emotional outbursts on occasion.”

“Thank you for the heads-up, Mr Green. I’ll make sure to provide the best environment for Harry. It must be quite late on your end, so I won’t keep you any longer. Thanks again for the update on the case.”

“You’re welcome, Mr Stark. Have a good evening,” Mr Green replied before the line went dead.

“What was that about?” Harry asked, glancing up from the pan where he was carefully stirring the sauce.

Tony set his phone down on the counter, his expression a mix of relief and seriousness. “That was Mr Green, the guy from child-care services who’s been handling your case. And it’s all good news!”

Harry turned off the stove, giving Tony his full attention as he continued. Tony recounted the conversation with Mr Green, and explained the court’s decisions regarding the Dursleys and the future steps. When Tony mentioned the plan to donate Harry’s portion of the money to charity, Harry nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful.

“I don’t want anything that used to be theirs,” Harry said quietly. “I’ve had enough of their hand-me-downs to last a lifetime.  It all just makes me feel… like a freak. I don’t want to be a freak anymore.” He admitted hatefully.

Tony’s heart ached at Harry’s words, not surprised at Harry’s exclamation. “You’re no freak, Harry. And giving that money to help other kids, it’s a good thing. Something positive out of all this.”

After dinner, the two of them tackled the mountain of shopping bags waiting by the entrance. They lugged everything up to Harry’s room, chatting about the day as they worked. When they opened the door, Harry paused, his breath catching in his throat. His room, which had been a plain dull space before, was now vibrant and full of life. The walls were freshly painted in a dark red which made the room feel cosy and welcoming.

The wall behind his bed now had a mural behind it of a deep green forest, flashes of red seeping through in the form of ageing leaves. The lighting was also softer than it had been, fitting the new theme of the room. Although still giving more than enough light to fill the room.

“You… you really did it,” Harry said, his voice a mixture of surprise and emotion. He hadn’t expected Tony to follow through with the painting so quickly. The gesture, though small in the grand scheme of things, felt enormous to Harry.

“Of course I did,” Tony replied with a grin, pleased with Harry’s reaction. “I told you it’d get done. This is your space now, gotta make it yours.”

They spent the next hour unpacking and organizing, though it quickly became clear that they wouldn’t finish everything tonight. As Harry began to fold clothes, he couldn’t help but notice how much he had now, so many new things, more than he could ever remember having. The pile of clothes he knew he wouldn’t wear grew steadily, destined for charity. The act of sorting through everything felt almost therapeutic, a way of letting go of the past and embracing his new life.

Finally, with a yawn, Harry set aside the last shirt. "There’s still a lot to do," he said, looking at the remaining bags.

"Yeah, but we made a good dent in it," Tony replied, ruffling Harry’s hair affectionately. "And we’ve got time. No rush."

Harry smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest that he wasn’t entirely used to. The day had been long but fulfilling, and for the first time in a while, he felt genuinely excited about what was to come. Tomorrow, they’d be visiting the Goblins; a prospect that filled him with curiosity and a bit of nervousness, but also a sense of adventure.

As they prepared to head to bed, Harry took one last look at his room, now filled with new things, and new possibilities. The memory of the Dursleys was still there, lingering in the background, but it felt less oppressive now, overshadowed by the life he was beginning to build with Tony.

"Goodnight, Dad," Harry said softly as he climbed into bed, the word ‘Dad’ still new but comforting on his tongue.

"Goodnight, Harry," Tony replied, turning off the light and leaving the door slightly ajar, just in case.

As Harry drifted off to sleep, he felt a deep sense of peace and belonging. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was truly home.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up late, the fatigue from the previous night’s unpacking still clinging to him. He stretched lazily, savouring the comfort of his bed for a moment before getting up. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room.

After a quick shower, Harry dressed and looked around at the pile of shopping bags still waiting to be unpacked. Though they’d made good progress last night, there was still work to be done. Determined to finish the job, he began sorting through the remaining items, folding clothes neatly into drawers and organizing his new belongings.

Half an hour had passed in peaceful silence, the task giving Harry a sense of accomplishment and order. Just as he was folding the last of his shirts, a knock on the door interrupted his focus.

“Harry, come down and eat something for breakfast!” Tony’s voice called from the other side.

Harry smiled to himself. Tony had been up early, immersed in work. Planning a press conference, reviewing R&D proposals, he never seemed to stop. But amidst all that, he’d still thought to check on Harry, to make sure he ate. That simple gesture made Harry feel cared for in a way that was still new to him.

“Coming!” Harry called back, giving one last glance at the now-organized room before heading downstairs.

Meanwhile, Tony was in the kitchen, refilling his coffee cup as he glanced over the scattered papers on the table. His mind buzzed with the day’s tasks, but a sigh escaped him as he noticed how quickly the morning had slipped by. He’d been ignoring Pepper’s calls, preferring to avoid any more confrontations for now. Her reaction the other day still weighed on him, and he wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.

“Sir, Miss Potts is trying to reach you again,” Jarvis informed him, the AI’s voice as smooth as ever.

Tony hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “Leave her, J. I’m not in the mood.”

“As you wish, sir,” Jarvis replied, and Tony returned to his coffee, hoping the caffeine would sharpen his focus.

A few minutes later, Harry came bouncing down the stairs, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. He grabbed a bowl of cereal and joined Tony at the table, his bright smile infectious.

“When are we going to leave for the bank?” Harry asked between bites.

Tony checked his watch, mentally calculating the time they’d need. “In about an hour. It shouldn’t take us long to get there, but we should leave a little earlier, just in case.”

Harry nodded, finishing his cereal quickly before darting back upstairs. He wanted to make sure his room was completely tidy and to pack up the clothes he’d decided to donate. As he folded the last item into a neat pile, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. The small mountain of clothes destined for charity was a reminder of how far he’d come from the days of oversized hand-me-downs and second-hand everything.

Back in the kitchen, Tony was engrossed in his work, scanning through the last of the R&D proposals. Most of them were impractical, either unsuitable for mass production or thinly veiled attempts to develop weapons. His jaw tightened at the thought; he’d made a promise, to himself and the world, never to go down that path again. With a heavy sigh, he disapproved of the majority, pushing the plans aside.

His thoughts drifted as he worked. There was something else on his mind, something more personal. Tony was curious about Harry’s magic, how it worked, and if there was a way to bridge it with technology. From what he’d observed, some tech seemed immune to magic, while other devices malfunctioned, often depending on their complexity. He had noticed that things with arc reactors in them worked fine, especially his own.

There was an unpredictable element, Harry’s emotions. Electrical devices generally worked fine, but the lights were another story. They would pop randomly, and no matter how much he analysed, Tony couldn’t pinpoint why. But until Harry was ready to talk about it, Tony would keep his theories to himself.

About half an hour later, Harry bounded back into the kitchen, a wide grin on his face. Tony couldn’t help but smile back as he watched Harry interact with Hedwig, who seemed to be enjoying the attention. The sight of his son so at ease made Tony’s earlier frustrations melt away, replaced by a warm, contented feeling.

The elevator dinged, and Natasha walked in, her presence as calm and composed as always. She ruffled Harry’s hair affectionately before making her way over to Tony.

“Pepper is in the common area looking for you,” she informed him, a slight smirk on her lips. “She looks angry.”

Tony sighed deeply. He had been avoiding Pepper all day, knowing this moment would come. He didn’t like dodging her, but he also didn’t feel ready to face whatever confrontation she was bringing. Yes, it was childish, but he was still raw from their last conversation and wasn’t eager to reopen that wound just yet.

“Tell her I’m not here,” Tony said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Harry and I are going to be leaving soon anyway.”

Natasha nodded, her expression softening. “Alright,” she said before turning to leave.

Harry watched this exchange with a raised eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Why are you avoiding her?” He asked, looking at Tony with confusion.

“After her outburst at dinner the other night, I’ve been upset with her,” he admitted finally. “And I’m not ready to talk about it yet with her.”

Harry nodded slowly, absorbing the information. He was still getting used to the complexities of adult relationships, but he understood enough to know that sometimes people needed space. “Okay,” he said simply, offering his dad a small smile.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, returning the smile. “You all set to go?”

“Yup,” Harry said giving Hedwig one last treat.

“Good,” Tony said, standing up and stretching, trying to shake off the lingering tension. “Let’s get going then.”

The Goblins hadn’t given them explicit directions on where to go, so Tony had Jarvis search for any unusual energy signatures similar to what he had recorded in London and from what Harry sometimes emitted. They had narrowed it down to an area west of Central Park, a spot that seemed likely and had a large output of energy. Tony carried the letter they’d received, just in case it would be needed to confirm their appointment.

As they walked through the bustling streets, Harry noticed a discreet entrance next to a storefront, marked subtly as the destination. It wasn’t the main entrance that most people seemed to use, this one was almost hidden in plain sight. Harry pointed it out, and they made their way over, slipping through the door and into a world that was starkly different from the city outside.

The moment they stepped inside, they were transported into a grand space of marble and gold. The walls, floors, and pillars were all made of pristine white marble, shot through with veins of gold that glimmered under the soft lighting. The air was cool, almost serene, with a sense of timelessness that made Harry’s breath catch. Goblins sat behind polished desks, each one encased in a protective shield, that glimmered blue in the light. At the centre of the room stood the master teller, overseeing everything with an air of authority.

Tony led the way to the centre desk, where he inquired about their scheduled meeting. Without hesitation, a goblin was summoned and led them down a hallway lined with heavy doors. They stopped at the third door, where the goblin knocked before stepping back, leaving them to enter on their own.

The door opened to reveal an older goblin seated behind a grand mahogany desk, his long fingers skilfully handling a stack of papers. He looked up as they entered, setting the papers aside with deliberate care. His gaze was sharp but not unkind as he regarded them.

“Good day, Dr Stark and Heir Potter-Slytherin,” the goblin said in a gravelly voice, inclining his head slightly. “I am Master Lagraff. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?”

Tony didn’t waste any time. “I want to set up an account under the Stark name, that Harry will have access to. I’m also interested in using that account to invest in the wizarding world, start spreading the Stark name around, so that one day Harry won’t have to worry about money or credibility. And I’d like it to be linked with the non-magical world to avoid the hassle of currency exchange. I did it once in London, and I’d rather not go through that again.”

Lagraff nodded thoughtfully, his sharp eyes never leaving Tony’s. “That can certainly be arranged, Dr Stark. Papers will need to be drawn up and reviewed. If you’d like, we can also provide a personal storage option, though, unlike our counterparts in London, we do not use underground vaults due to the subway system. Most of our clients don’t require physical storage, but it is available as a separate service.”

Tony considered the offer for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think we need that right now, but it might be something to consider in the future.”

Harry watched the exchange quietly, absorbing the details and the gravity of what was happening. This wasn’t just about setting up an account, it was about laying the groundwork for his future, bridging the gap between two worlds that had always seemed so far apart. Something that would take time, and he wasn’t sure could actually happen.

Lagraff made a note on one of the documents before him. “Very well, we’ll proceed with the account setup and the necessary investments. Is there anything else you require today?”

Tony shook his head, but Lagraff turned his gaze to Harry. “And Heir Potter-Slytherin, is there anything you need?”

Harry hesitated for a moment, then spoke up. “Master Lagraff, I was wondering if it would be possible to move the contents, though not the money, of the Slytherin vault to New York. And you can call me Harry.”

The goblin’s eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the request. “It is possible to move the contents of the vault, though it may take some time and incur costs. However, it can be arranged. We would need to set up a suitable storage area here in New York.” He began sorting through papers on his desk, eventually pulling out a few specific forms.

“I would also like to ask, Harry, if you’ve been registered as an American wizard or if you remain under British jurisdiction. If not, it might be worthwhile to consider. As a non-magical guardian, Dr Stark, the British Ministry may try to exploit the fact to gain custody of Harry. They are possessive of him because of his history.”

Tony’s expression darkened at the thought. “How would we go about changing his wizarding nationality?”

Lagraff nodded as if expecting the question. “I can contact the Magical Congress of the United States of America, or MACUSA, on your behalf. They can take the necessary steps to officially recognise Harry as an American Wizard. Normally, such a process wouldn’t be urgent, but given Harry’s background and the notoriety of his situation, it may be wise to handle this discreetly.”

Tony felt a wave of relief at the goblin’s proactive approach. “That would be very helpful. Would you also be able to assist with finding magical tutors for Harry?”

“Unfortunately, we do not handle such matters,” Lagraff replied, his tone measured. “However, MACUSA should be able to provide you with all the information and resources you need, including reputable tutors.”

The conversation moved swiftly after that, with Lagraff efficiently guiding them through the remaining paperwork. An hour after they had entered the building, their business with the goblins was concluded. The Stark account had been established, and the process of transferring the Slytherin vault’s contents to New York was underway. Master Lagraff estimated it would take about a month to complete the transfer, given the significant amount of items in the vault.

As they left the opulent building, Harry felt a mixture of emotions; relief, anticipation, and a hint of anxiety about the changes unfolding around him. But more than anything, he felt secure knowing that his dad was by his side, ready to face whatever challenges came their way. Tony, for his part, was already thinking several steps ahead, determined to ensure that Harry’s future was protected, no matter what.

Tony and Harry made their way into Central Park, a mutual understanding passing between them without the need for words. Tony wasn’t eager to return to the tower, where an encounter with Pepper seemed inevitable, and Harry was content to savour the warmth of the sun, something he hadn’t had many chances to enjoy in his life.

The park was alive with vibrant energy of people enjoying the day; families having picnics, couples strolling hand in hand, and children running freely across the grass. The trees offered patches of shade, their leaves rustling softly in the gentle breeze, and the distant sound of laughter filled the air.

Tony glanced down at Harry, who seemed captivated by the sight of a group of kids playing with a frisbee. There was a brightness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, a kind of wonder that Tony couldn’t help but notice. It was a reminder of just how different Harry’s life had become in such a short amount of time.

“Wanna take a walk?” Tony asked, his tone casual, but there was an underlying sense of wanting to prolong this peaceful moment.

Harry nodded eagerly. “Sure.”

They began walking along one of the park’s winding paths taking in the sights and sounds around them. Tony found himself relaxing, the tension of the morning easing away with each step. The greenery, the openness, and the absence of the usual noise of the city life provided a much-needed escape.

After a while, they found a quiet spot near a pond, where the water shimmered under the sunlight. Tony sat down on a bench, stretching his legs out in front of him, while Harry wandered closer to the water’s edge, watching the ducks glide effortlessly across the surface.

“Did you come here a lot when you were a kid?” Harry asked, turning back to look at Tony.

Tony shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Not really. Despite New York being my hometown. My childhood was… different. Busy, I guess you could say. My parents were always working, and I was always… somewhere else.”

Harry nodded, understanding more than he said. He turned back to the pond, watching the ducks again. “It’s nice here.”

“Yeah, it is,” Tony agreed, his voice softer. He watched Harry, noting the way his son seemed more at ease here, away from the complexities they were facing. It struck Tony how much Harry had been through, how much he had endured, and yet here he was, finding joy in the simple things.

After a while, Harry wandered back over to Tony and sat down beside him on the bench. They sat in comfortable silence, both lost in their thoughts, but connected by the quiet understanding that sometimes, it was okay to just be. To let the world slow down for a bit and appreciate the moments of peace when they came.

Eventually, Tony checked his watch and sighed. “We should probably head back soon. Got a lot to do.”

Harry nodded, but there was no rush in his movements as he stood up. “Okay.”

They started back towards the edge of the park, but this time their pace was slower, more leisurely. Tony found himself wishing they could stay a little longer, avoid the responsibilities waiting for them just a little more. But he knew they couldn’t hide out here forever.

As they exited the park, Tony glanced down at Harry, who looked up at him with a small, content smile. For now, that was enough. They’d faced a lot today, but there would be more days like this, more moments of peace and quiet to look forward to. And maybe, just maybe, they were both starting to find a new kind of normal.

~~~~~~

Across the ocean in the British counterpart of Gringotts, Albus Dumbledore stood in its grand hall, his usual calm demeanour replaced by a rare display of frustration. The goblins working behind the counter cast wary glances his way, but their expressions remained as inscrutable as ever.

“What do you mean I cannot see the account manager for the Potter accounts? I was here just last month!” Dumbledore’s voice was sharp, cutting through the usual murmur of the bank.

The goblin before him, standing atop a polished platform, remained unfazed. His pointed features were as still as stone, a picture of unyielding patience. “Professor Dumbledore, as I have already informed you, Griphook is unavailable to see you without a prior appointment. And even if you had one, he is not obligated to meet with you. Heir Potter’s accounts are no longer under your jurisdiction.”

Dumbledore’s frustration simmered into barely contained anger. “But I must speak with him, it concerns Harry. Without the necessary funds, his aunt and uncle cannot afford to care for him.”

The goblin’s eyes narrowed slightly, his patience wearing thin. “As I have stated already, Mister Dumbledore, you may request an appointment with Heir Potter’s account manager. However, they will not see you today, and certainly not on such short notice.”

Dumbledore’s knuckles tightened around the head of his staff. “Heir Potter? Harry has never claimed his titles, nor does he know of them!” His voice rose, drawing the attention of others in the hall. Heads turned, eyes widened, but Dumbledore seemed oblivious to the scene he was creating.

The goblin’s gaze grew colder, more calculating. He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering to a menacing whisper. “Mister Dumbledore, are you admitting that as Harry Potter’s former magical guardian, you failed to inform him of his rightful inheritance and the responsibilities to his estate?”

The hall fell into a tense silence, every eye now fixed on the confrontation. Dumbledore, realizing he was losing control of the situation, backpedalled quickly. “No… I mean, I simply felt that with everything Harry has endured, it wasn’t the right time to burden him with such matters.”

“And what, exactly, Mister Dumbledore, is so pressing in Heir Potter’s life that it outweighs his right to know about his to know about his inheritance and legacy?” The goblin’s words were sharp, a challenge that left Dumbledore momentarily speechless. “Because, to our knowledge, nothing of such significance has occurred that would justify your withholding of this crucial information.”

Dumbledore’s temper flared again, and his tone turned accusatory. “Why do you care so much Harry Potter? Goblins are known to be more concerned with their vaults than their clients.”

The goblin’s lips curled into a thin, humourless smile. “We find Heir Potter’s new guardian to be more… agreeable. He has wealth, influence, and a vision that aligns with our interests should he choose to bank with us.”

Dumbledore’s heart skipped a beat. “New guardian? What do you mean?”

“You will find this information within the Ministry of Magic, Mister Dumbledore,” the goblin replied, his voice dripping with disdain.

“No,” Dumbledore snapped, his desperation showing. “Tell me now, you greedy bastard!”

The goblin’s expression hardened, and the hall seemed to grow colder. “Good day, Mister Dumbledore. I suggest you leave before we are forced to remove you.”

Realizing he had overstepped, Dumbledore attempted to rein in his temper, but the damage was done. “I demand to see Harry Potter’s account manager!” he said, his voice losing its authoritative edge.

The goblin raised a hand, signalling to the guards stationed nearby. “We warned you, Dumbledore,” he said quietly.

On cue, the guards approached, their imposing presence making it clear that Dumbledore was no longer welcome. As they escorted him out, the other patrons watched with a mixture of pity and curiosity. To them, the once-great Albus Dumbledore was now a relic of the past, clinging to a world that had long since moved on without him.

As Dumbledore was unceremoniously ushered out of the bank, the goblin behind the counter smirked, knowing that a fine for the disturbance would soon be issued to the old wizard. Gringotts had never held much affection for Dumbledore, despite their reluctant cooperation in the past. Now, with the right information in the right hands, it wouldn’t be long before the wizarding world saw the true nature of its once-revered leader. The goblins would watch from the sidelines, as they always did, unless, of course, the price was right.

Chapter Text

Harry sat behind the heavy wooden doors, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. The muffled buzz of voices from the other side seeped through the cracks, reminding him that in just a few moments, he would be thrust into the public eye. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, tugging at the hem of his shirt, feeling every wrinkle and crease. The press conference had been scheduled for later in the week, but thanks to Pepper, it was happening tonight, far sooner than he was ready for.

Pepper had pushed the press conference forward to suit her own agenda, and Tony had been furious when he found out. Harry overheard their tense exchange earlier.

Tony had planned the original timing carefully, knowing that if the story broke on Friday evening, the press would have limited time to print before the weekend. But Pepper, with an air of superiority, had brushed off Tony’s frustration, telling him he should have answered her calls.

The tension between them crackled like static in the air, and Harry could see how much Tony resented it. Pepper, once Tony’s partner in more ways than one, now seemed to act like an ex who couldn’t let go. And for what? Tony had moved on, his focus was on Harry now, and Harry alone.

Harry shifted his gaze to his dad. Tony stood by the door, checking his watch with feigned indifference, clearly trying to tune out Pepper, who was nearby, still fussing over last-minute details.

Tony was dressed in his usual sleek press conference attire, a sharp navy-blue suit with a crisp white button-up and a matching tie, but Harry could tell by the tension in his posture that he was anything but calm. Harry, in contrast, had gone with something more casual: black jeans and a short-sleeved button-up shirt that felt both too formal and too laid back for the occasion.

Finally, Tony nodded at Harry and pushed open the doors. The flash of cameras hit them like a wave as they walked onto the stage. Harry followed closely behind Tony, feeling the weight of hundreds of eyes and camera lenses on him. His breath caught in his throat, but he focused on staying steady, standing just beside the podium as Tony took his place behind it.

The room fell into a hush, all eyes on Tony as he began.

“I know many of you have seen the rumours circulating and some of you have captured pictures with a boy who looks a lot like me. You’re not wrong to wonder, and today, I’m here to set the record straight.” Tony’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying steel in his tone. Harry glanced up at him, marvelling at how composed he seemed.

“Yes, this boy is my son,” Tony continued, pausing for the murmurs in the crowd to die down. “His name is Harry. But before you jump to conclusions. No, he is not the product of my so-called ‘playboy days.’ Harry has always been a part of my life, even if circumstances kept us apart until now.”

The room was silent, reporters hanging onto Tony’s every word. Harry’s palms were sweating, but he kept his eyes forward, focusing on Tony’s voice, which had softened as he explained the story.

“In 1999, I met a married couple at a charity event. The husband, well, he looked quite a bit like me. They couldn’t have children on their own due to an accident he had in high school. After getting to know them, they approached me with a request: a sperm donation. They needed their child to resemble the husband, for personal reasons within their community. I agreed on the condition that I’d meet the child, either as Harry’s uncle or, if the time was right, as his father, when he turned twenty-one.

“Unfortunately, Harry’s parents died when he was just a year old, and I was never informed. He was sent to live with his mother’s sister, a situation I didn’t know about until recently. Without going into details, Harry’s time with his aunt and uncle was… less than ideal. But thanks to a recent incident, I was finally made aware of his situation, and I’ve since corrected it. Harry’s been with me these past few weeks, and we’re working on building the relationship we should have had from the start.”

Tony took a steadying breath. The room was quiet Harry could hear the faint clicking of a camera. He knew what was coming next, the part of the speech where Tony would throw down the gauntlet.

“And now, to the press.” Tony’s voice hardened, his gaze sweeping over the reporters like a warning. “For years, I’ve let you write whatever you want about me. Hell, I’ve even played into it at times. But if any of you dare to publish anything about Harry, especially something outside of official events, without my permission, I promise you’ll regret it. I will take legal action for defamation of character and the unauthorised exploitation of a minor. This is your one and only warning. Harry’s off-limits.”

The weight of Tony’s words hung in the air, and Harry felt a strange mixture of pride and protection welling up in his chest. Tony stepped back from the podium, casting one last glance at the room full of stunned reporters before nodding to Harry.

Harry met his dad’s eyes and felt the tension drain out of him. They had done it, survived this ordeal. As they walked off the stage together, the weight of the world seemed a little lighter on Harry’s shoulders.

Tony left the press conference feeling cautiously optimistic. He had given the press just enough to satisfy their curiosity, but not enough to fuel wild rumours. At least that was the plan. He knew better than to fully trust the media, though speculation was inevitable.

As he walked past Pepper on his way out, he caught the sharp look she shot him. It was clear she wasn’t buying the story, even though it was the truth. He sighed inwardly, knowing that sooner or later, he’d have to sit down with her and show her the baby photo of Harry to prove that his story wasn’t some elaborate PR stunt.

Tony didn’t want to stay on bad terms with Pepper, but he also knew they couldn’t go back to the way things were. Their relationship had run its course, and they were both too stubborn to make it work without constant friction. There had been good times, but he didn’t miss the arguments, the tension, or the slow realisation that they wanted different things in life. Now, his world revolved around Harry. That’s what mattered. And Pepper, well she needed to accept that.

As they made their way to the elevator, Harry walking beside him, quieter than usual, but there was a visible lightness in his step. Tony glanced down at him, noticing the small smile that played at the corners of Harry’s lips.

“You good, kiddo?” Tony asked, nudging him lightly with his elbow.

Harry looked up, the smile growing wider, “Yeah, I think so. I don’t really know why, but…. I’m happy.”

Tony’s chest tightened at that. He could tell Harry hadn’t experienced much happiness in his life, not the genuine kind, and it made this moment all the more important. Just seeing his son happy, despite the chaos of the press conference was worth all the stress.

“Good,” Tony said, his voice softer now. “You deserve to be.”

Standing in the elevator, neither of them could fully grasp the magnitude of what had happened. Harry, in particular, didn’t realise how dramatically his life was about to change. He had never dealt with the media in person like this; just the occasional article here and there or someone stopping him on the street. This was different. His dad had made a public declaration, telling the world that Harry was his son, and Tiny wasn’t about to hide him away from the world.

The next morning, the fallout began.

Every tabloid, news station, and newspaper had something to say about the press conference. Headlines ranged from factual to sensational, but surprisingly, none of them had crossed the line Tony had drawn. His warning seemed to have done the trick, at least for now.

No one dared to speculate beyond what Tony had shared, and all the articles stuck to the script. But Tony knew it was only a matter of time before someone broke rank. Once the rest of the world caught wind of the story, especially since the press conference hadn’t been broadcast live, the real frenzy would begin.

For now, though, they had a brief moment of peace. Harry, blissfully unaware of the brewing storm, still seemed content. He didn’t know that the media could be relentless, that they would dig into his past, scrutinize every detail of his life, and paint their own version of the story. But Tony knew. He’d been through this circus too many times, and now, he would do everything in his power to shield his son from it.

Tony sipped his coffee as he scanned the morning papers, his mind already strategizing his next move. He needed to keep Harry grounded, to prepare him for what was coming without overwhelming him. And he needed to figure out how to keep Pepper from derailing everything. She had already thrown enough wrenches into the situation; he couldn’t afford any more surprises.

Harry, meanwhile, was sitting at the kitchen table, absentmindedly flipping through one of the tabloids. He didn’t seem fazed by the coverage, at least not yet.

Tony cleared his throat. “You know things might get a little crazier from here, right? The press; they’re like vultures. They’ll start digging into your life, trying to find stories.”

Harry looked up, a bit of uncertainty creeping into his expression. “I guess I didn’t really think about that…”

“Yeah, I figured.” Tony leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “But listen, you don’t have to worry. I’ve got your back. If anyone steps out of line, they’re gonna regret it.”

Harry nodded, taking some comfort in his dad’s words. “I guess it’s a good thing I disappeared off the face of the earth two years ago.” He said, still there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. He was starting to understand the weight of the public’s attention. “You’ve been through this before,” Harry said after a while.

Tony gave a half-smile. “More times than I’d like to admit. But this time, it’s different. I’m not going through it alone.” He met Harry’s eyes, making sure the boy knew exactly what he meant. “We’ve got this.”

Harry’s lips curled into a small smile again, Tony would get his kid through this with the least amount of damage possible. They would face the storm together, and nothing; no rumours, no headlines, no drama, would change that.

Tony and Harry opted for a quiet day indoors, knowing that the news reporters had set up camp outside the tower, eagerly waiting for any scraps of information. The media frenzy had become relentless, trying to catch any glimpse of the Stark family. It wasn’t safe for Harry to venture out.

Harry spent most of his day in his room, finding some comfort in talking to Hermione. The familiarity of her voice, her curiosity, and their shared experiences brought a sense of normalcy in the midst of chaos. After catching up with her, he headed down to the gym to break in his new workout gear, meeting Natasha for some much-needed physical distraction. It was nice to burn off some of the nervous energy that had built up since the press release.

Meanwhile, Tony threw himself into his work. He was in his workshop, tinkering with a few new ideas for the Iron Man suit, half to keep his mind busy, half because he genuinely needed the distraction. Every now and then, his thoughts drifted back to Pepper and the unresolved tension between them. He tried to push it aside, focusing on his tools and blueprints.

When the hum of machines didn’t drown out the persistent noise of his thoughts, he knew it was time to step away. Reluctantly, he made his way upstairs to join the others for dinner, where he, Harry and a few of the Avengers ended the night with a movie.

~~~~

The next morning brought changes. Clint and Natasha were called away on a mission. Harry went down to say goodbye, figuring it was the polite thing to do. When he arrived, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. His dad and Steve were both blushing like schoolgirls, not meeting the other’s eyes. Harry raised an eyebrow but decided to keep his curiosity to himself… for now.

After they left, Harry found himself in front of the TV, flipping channels until he stumbled on a British news station. His heart sank as he saw his dad’s face plastered across the screen, and then, briefly, his own photo appeared. The coverage was just as invasive across the ocean, and he suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over him.

What if someone from the wizarding world sees this?

He hadn’t been thinking about how his sudden appearance in America would ripple across the magical community.

But then, a small thread of hope tugged at him. His scar hadn’t been visible in the photo, and Tony hadn’t mentioned his surname during the press conference. Maybe he would be okay. Maybe the magical folk wouldn’t connect the dots. At least, not yet. Harry wasn’t ready to face them just yet, not after the last two years, and learning what Dumbledore had done to him. His life with Tony was just starting to feel real. The last thing he wanted was for that peace to be shattered by people who saw him as the Boy-Who-Lived.

Little did Harry know, that his fear was misplaced. The British wizarding world was caught up in an entirely different storm. Sirius Black, the infamous mass-murderer and supposed betrayer of the Potters, had escaped from Azkaban. All eyes were focused on the manhunt. No one was paying attention to the muggle news, and even if they had, very few wizards ever cared about the happenings of the muggle world. For now, Harry’s secret remained safe.

~~~~

Harry found himself sneaking into Steve’s room just before lunch. He didn’t need any help in the kitchen, it wasn’t like he was making anything too complicated, but he could use the company… and his dad had made him promise to not cook alone. And he was, as he put it, too busy “doing science bro stuff” with Bruce to lend a hand. Steve didn’t need much convincing to tag along. Harry appreciated the quiet presence; Steve had a way of making things seem a little calmer.

As they finished setting the table, Harry called his dad and Bruce to join them. The moment Tony walked into the room, the tension between him and Steve was unmistakable. Their awkward glances and flushed faces were hard to miss, but Harry pretended not to notice, he was definitely asking Jarvis what happened later. Instead, after lunch, he once again dragged Steve down to the gym, this time to get a few pointers on basic defence; and help with the program Natasha had left behind. Steve seemed eager to help, and Harry was grateful for the distraction.

The next day, as Harry sat at the kitchen counter, munching on his Cheerios, wondering why Jarvis wouldn’t tell him what happened between his dad and Steve. He could hear the sharp edges of an argument coming from the balcony. Tony’s voice was heated, unmistakably in the middle of a tense phone call with Pepper. The words “missed too many meetings” drifted through the open door. Harry shook his head, trying to focus on his breakfast, but the argument seemed to seep into the air like a storm cloud.

Suddenly, the flap of wings caught his attention. A large bald eagle swooped in through the open balcony doors, they had started to keep open for Hedwig. Tony was busy changing one of the glass panels, so it would be able to open for Hedwig when she went near it. The eagle landed gracefully in front of Harry, extending a leg with a letter attached to it. Harry quickly removed the letter, and the eagle took off as swiftly as it had arrived.

He barely had time to open it before Tony ended his phone call and moved to stand behind him. They both leaned over the parchment, reading the message in silence.

Dear Heir Potter-Slytherin and Guardian Dr Stark,

It has been brought to our attention that you are currently residing in the United States of America. Under the authority of the Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA), we urge you to visit our Immigration offices and apply for all necessary documentation.

Due to Heir Potter’s unique circumstances, we have set aside the following dates for personalized assistance; Monday, July 22^nd, Tuesday, July 23^rd, and Wednesday, July 24^th. Should you be unable to attend during this time, you will need to follow the standard immigration process.

Additionally, given the status of Heir Potter’s guardian, we require a list of all individuals aware of the magical world. Any unapproved individuals may have their memories altered, should their knowledge be deemed inappropriate. Due to living situations please also provide a list of those who will need to know.

Please visit our office at the Woolworth Building, New York City, New York, for further inquiries.

Regards,

Catriona Wolfs

Head of Immigration Office, MACUSA

Tony read the letter twice, his brow furrowing in surprise. “They move fast in the wizarding world,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I thought I was famous, but it looks like you’re a bigger deal than I realized.”

Harry chuckled nervously. “I guess so. Can we go on Monday?” He glanced up at his dad. “I just want to get it over with. What the goblins said the other day has me on edge.”

Tony nodded, his face softening. “Yeah, Monday works. I can’t do Tuesday anyway. Pepper’s got me booked for some meeting that’s probably going to take all day.”

A quiet pause hung in the air before Tony spoke again. “Harry, I need to ask… are you absolutely sure about the home-schooling thing? I mean, you could make friends, get a fresh start in a new school, even a regular one. I don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out because of… well, everything.”

Harry looked at his dad, appreciating the concern behind words. “Dad, I’m sure. I don’t want to go back to a magical school. Not after what I’ve been through. If I change my mind, I’ll tell you. But right now, I think this is what’s best for me.”

Tony ran a hand through Harry’s hair, an affectionate gesture that felt reassuring. “Alright. I just don’t want you to regret anything later.” Before either of them could say more, Tony’s phone buzzed on the counter. “Sir,” Jarvis's voice interrupted, “Miss Potts is trying to reach you again.”

Tony groaned, rubbing his temple. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?” Harry questioned.

“I agree with young Harry, sir,” Jarvis added, his voice tinged with a playful tone.

Tony threw his hands up in mock frustration. “My own children are ganging up on me. Great. Bullying me, the both of you.”

“Dad,” Harry said, his voice a little firmer, “You’re dodging the topic.”

Tony sighed, his shoulder slumping slightly. “She hurt me, kid. She doesn’t believe me about you. Thinks I’m making things up, covering up the truth. And it’s about you, which makes it worse.”

Jarvis chimed in again, his tone soft but insistent. “The longer you avoid it, sir, the more she’s going to misunderstand.”

Tony looked down, clearly torn. “I know, J. But it stings, you know? I was excited to tell her about Harry… and she blew it off. Didn’t believe me.”

Harry leaned in, placing a comforting hand on his dad’s arm. “It’s okay, Dad. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. But maybe she’s not the great friend you thought she was, if she is acting like this?”

Tony looked at him, a bit startled. “She’s been through a lot with me, Harry.”

“I get that. But going through things with someone doesn’t always make them a good friend. There’s this one kid from school, Draco, he tried to be my friend, but he ended up insulting the friends I already had. So, I turned him down. He continued to tease us through the years, trying to make me regret my decision. But despite him being around, especially in life-changing moments, he would have made a bad friend.

“Even my friend, Ron, isn’t the greatest of friends, but he was the first friend. I know it’s not the same, but some people aren’t meant to be your friend.”

Tony stared at Harry for a moment, the weight of his son’s words sinking in. “Thanks, kiddo. Maybe you’re right. Maybe she should just keep being the interim CEO for a while… and not be in my life like she used to be.

Harry squeezed his dad’s arm. “Talk to her first, though. Just make sure.”

Tony smiled faintly. “I will just… not today.”

Turning to Jarvis, Tony sighed. “J, let Pepper know I need to talk to her next week about everything.”

“Right away, sir.”

~~~~~

The weekend passed quietly, though Harry and Tony were still confined to the Tower. Crowds of reporters and curious onlookers lingered outside, though by Sunday, they had thinned somewhat, probably gearing up for the workweek. Harry hoped that with Monday’s arrival, the chaos would die down completely, but for now, the world outside remained distant, muffled by the Tower’s walls.

Sunday afternoon found Harry and Tony lounging in the common floor lounge, nestled into the couch. Harry was tucked into his dad’s side, his legs curled beneath him as the two watched an “Alvin and the Chipmunks” movie marathon. The warm, lazy atmosphere was one of rare peace; no teach to tinker with, no battles to fight, just the comfort of their movie and each other.

About halfway through the second movie, Tony spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “Harry, I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice soft, almost tentative. “Do you want to tell the rest of the team about magic?”

Harry glanced up, surprised. The question lingered in the air, weighty despite the casual setting. Tony paused the movie, turning slightly to face his son.

“I trust them,” Tony continued, his brow furrowing as he chose his words carefully. “But there’s Nat and Birdbrain… they work for S.H.I.E.L.D., and you never know what they might be obligated to report. If something magical comes up and could be useful intel for them, or something S.H.I.E.LD. needs to keep an eye on. They might be stuck between helping us and doing their job.”

Harry leaned into his dad’s side, thinking. The idea of telling the tea about his magic unsettled him. He didn’t want to hide who he was, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to share that part of his life just yet. Not with people he still felt like he was getting to know.

“I don’t think I’m ready to tell them,” Harry said, his voice quiet but certain. “Maybe in the future. Maybe if something happens and there’s no way around it. But right now… I just want to be Harry. Not Harry the wizard.”

Tony looked down at him, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s okay, kid. You take your time. I’m still gonna see if I can get clearance for them to know. Just in case something comes up and they need to understand what’s going on.”

Harry nodded, grateful. “Thanks, Dad.”

With that, Tony unpaused the movie, and they returned to their easy Sunday. Halfway through the second film, Steve wandered in, looking a little lost as he glanced at the screen.

“What’s… going on here?” Steve asked, frowning as the animated chipmunks danced across the screen.

Tony grinned. “You’re late to the party, Cap. Classic cinema right here.”

Steve gave him a dubious look but sat down anyway. Bruce appeared near the end of the last movie, settling into the background as the group’s numbers grew. By the time the movie marathon was over, they had gathered together in the common room, tucking into some takeout as the weekend wound to a peaceful close.

~~~~~

Monday morning came quicker than Harry expected. Tony was determined to keep their outing under the radar, and by nine, plans were already in motion. Bruce had agreed to take one of Tony’s flashier cars to serve as a diversion, while Harry and Tony slipped out in a plain, everyday vehicle. One that wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention.

“Ready?” Tony asked, glancing over at Harry as he laced his shoes. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. He was trying to be the dad he had never had, protecting his kid from the world’s sharp edges.

Harry nodded, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Bruce left first, pulling out in one of Tony’s usual eye-catching cars, the sleek engine purring as it cruised out of the garage. Tony and Harry waited a few minutes, giving Bruce time to draw attention before slipping out themselves in the far less conspicuous vehicle.

The drive through the city was quiet, the hum of the engine blending with the morning sounds of New York waking up. Harry stared out the window, watching the buildings blur by, his mind racing with thoughts of the MACUSA office, the formalities ahead, and the growing weight of his dual identity. For a fleeting moment, he wondered what life might be like if things were different. If he were just an ordinary kid, no magic, no famous father, no weighty titles attached to his name.

Tony seemed to sense the shift in his mood. “You doing alright over there?”

Harry nodded, pulling himself back from his thoughts. “Yeah. Just… thinking about everything.”

“Big day,” Tony said, his tone light, but his gaze flickering over to Harry with concern. “But we’ve got this. We’ll be in and out, paperwork done, and then maybe grab some lunch afterwards. How’s that sound?”

Harry smiled, appreciating the effort Tony was making to keep things normal. “Sounds good.”

As they neared the Woolworth Building, Harry felt a flutter of nerves settle into his stomach. The towering structure loomed ahead, an imposing reminder of the new world he was stepping into. Not just the magical one he’d been born into, but the reality of balancing that with his life as Tony Stark’s son. Something he was coming to realise the weight of.

“We’re here,” Tony said softly, pulling into a side street and finding a parking spot that was just out of sight of the main entrance. He turned to Harry, his eyes war with reassurance. “Ready, kid?”

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. “Ready.”

With that, the two stepped out of the car, the city buzzing around them. As they approached the towering Woolworths Building, a tall man in a grey suit approached them near the entrance, his movements smooth and deliberate.

“Harry Potter?” The man’s voice was light but commanding, his eyes briefly flicking to Tony before settling on Harry.

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, instinctively shifting closer to his dad as Tony subtly took his hand.

“I’m Daniel Trolinski,” the man introduced himself, offering a small smile. “I’ll be assisting you and your guardian with the immigration process today. And you must be Tony Stark. Welcome.” His tone was respectful, but there was an underlying efficiency, the kind of attitude someone had when they knew they were dealing with important people.

Tony gave a quick nod. “That’s us.”

“Excellent. If you’ll follow me, we can get started shortly.”

With that, they entered through the revolving doors that the other commuters ignored. Harry and Tony both marvelled at the magical world unfolding before them. Inside the Woolworth Building, the lobby was far from ordinary. Papers fluttered mid-air, darting from desk to desk like birds, and a giant clock hung from the ceiling. Its hands spinning in erratic, magical ways that definitely didn’t tell regular time. Tony couldn’t tear his eyes away from the moving images on the front page of a newspaper or the statues that occasionally shifted positions, watching the room as though they were alive. His gaze briefly caught on small creatures polishing wands in the corner, their tiny hands moving with meticulous care.

“Wow,” Tony muttered, his curiosity clear. “I’ve seen a lot of tech in my time, but this...”

Harry chuckled softly at his dad’s amazement. For once, it was Tony being the wide-eyed spectator in a world beyond his understanding.

 Daniel led them into an elevator tucked away in a quieter corner, and as they stepped in, Tony looked up, noticing how the tracks seemed to disappear into the sky, as if the elevator could travel in any direction. “Does this thing even have a top?” Tony mused aloud, half to himself.

Their descent was swift, and before long, the doors opened to reveal a hallway lined with dark blue panelling. They walked briskly down the corridor until they arrived at a door marked Immigration Offices.

Inside, the space seemed to expand impossibly, bustling with witches and wizards of all ages and backgrounds. The waiting room was filled with people who barely glanced their way as they passed by. Daniel led them past the front desk and down another hallway until they reached a door with his name neatly inscribed on it.

“Please, step into my office,” Daniel said, holding the door open for them.

The room was surprisingly cosy, with deep blue walls and a dark wooden floor. Tony’s eyes were drawn to two tubes that hung from the ceiling, one of them connected to a button near the desk. They sat down as Daniel took his seat behind the desk, the atmosphere settling into something more formal.

“Now, let’s get started,” Daniel began, folding his hands in front of him. “If I understand correctly, you’re looking to change Harry’s magical citizenship from British to American, particularly to protect him from certain... complications with the British Ministry?”

Tony nodded, resting his hand protectively on Harry’s shoulder. “Exactly. The goblins mentioned that the British wizarding community has a bit of an obsession with Harry. And if they don’t, then I’m no Iron Man. I’m pretty sure having him registered as an American wizard will help fend them off, or at least make things more difficult for them.”

“You’d be correct,” Daniel said with a faint smile. “The British Ministry has a history of being... persistent when it comes to individuals, they deem important. Changing Harry’s citizenship to American will provide certain protections and make it clear where his allegiance lies.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, glancing at Harry before speaking again. “I’ll also be sorting out his regular citizenship in the non-magical world when the time comes. Unless this also acts as Harry obtaining his American citizenship in total. But otherwise, this is our priority.”

Daniel nodded, “Yes, gaining his citizenship through us, directly impacts on the non-magical side. It is linked together, unlike in other wizarding communities. Now, I believe there was also the matter of who knows about magic and any potential need to disclose that information in the future. And, of course, any other questions you may have.”

Just then, a soft whirring sound filled the room. A small capsule shot down one of the tubes, stopping with a faint click before dropping neatly into Daniel’s waiting hand. He opened it with practised ease, laying out the documents before Tony and Harry.

“Here’s everything regarding Harry’s change of citizenship from a minor British wizard to a minor American wizard, with provisions for his eventual registration as an adult.”

Tony scanned the paperwork, his eyes flicking over the lines with a sharp, discerning gaze. It looked standard enough, except, of course, for the added mentions of magic scattered throughout. After a thorough read-through, Tony handed the documents back to Daniel.

“Everything looks in order,” Tony said, a touch of relief in his voice. “But before we proceed, we do have a couple of questions.”

Daniel steepled his fingers, his demeanour calm and open. “I’m happy to help. What would you like to know?”

Tony leaned back slightly, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair. “One thing I’m still wondering about… what happens to any titles Harry holds? And what about him doing magic outside of school, what are the laws here?”

Daniel smiled, clearly prepared for this. “The first question is fairly simple. Any titles Harry holds, such as lordships or other hereditary claims, will remain valid across the entire wizarding world, unless otherwise specified by a specific country’s laws. That means he can keep and claim any titles he has, no matter where he resides.”

Tony nodded, absorbing the information. “That’s good to know.”

“As for your second question,” Daniel continued, “underage witches and wizards are permitted to perform magic as long as they are living with an adult magical being who has completed their education. This excludes accidental mafic or magical outbursts, of course since those can’t be controlled. The of age wizard doesn’t have to be related to the underage wizard. So long as they live under the same address.”

Tony relaxed, glancing at Harry. “Sounds reasonable to me. Harry, what do you think?”

Harry sat up a bit straighter, processing the information. He wasn’t entirely used to thinking of himself in terms of titles or citizenship, but he had to admit, the idea of being able to perform magic under Tony’s roof made everything feel a little easier. They would just need to find a wizard to live at the tower. “I think that sounds fair.”

Looking over at Harry, Tony smiled warmly before shifting back to more practical matters. “And about the people around us,” Harry started again, hesitating just a moment. “If we’re living or working with people who don’t know about the magical world, what do we do? Like with the team…”

Daniel’s expression shifted to one of careful consideration. “Good question. Magic is typically kept hidden from non-magical individuals unless they are immediate family or there’s a pressing need for them to know. In your case, if you have trusted people, people who need to understand Harry’s abilities, provisions can be made. However, I would advise caution, especially with organisations like S.H.I.E.L.D. They tend to dig deeper than most, and once they learn something, it is nearly impossible to keep it contained.”

Tony let out a low chuckle, recognizing the truth in Daniel’s words. “Yeah, tell me about it. I’ll make sure we’re careful.”

Harry, feeling more settled, allowed his curiosity to surface. “What if someone finds out by accident? You know, like if they see me do magic when I wasn’t supposed to?”

Daniel’s smile was gentle, understanding the concern that often weighed on young witches and wizards. “Accidents do happen, and when they do, we have ways of handling them. Memory modification charms are used in such cases to erase any knowledge of the magical event. However, we try to avoid those when possible. It’s always better to prevent the exposure in the first place.”

Harry nodded, relieved that there was a solution, but also realizing the responsibility that came with having magic in a world that wasn’t supposed to see it. “I’ll be careful.”

Tony gave Harry an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder, before shifting gears. “And what about schooling? Is he required to attend a magical school, or is there flexibility? We’ve been leaning toward homeschooling.”

“Ah, that’s no problem at all,” Daniel said smoothly. “In the United States, there are no strict requirements to attend a magical school. Homeschooling is perfectly legal as long as the education meets MACUSA’s standards, and Harry passes the required tests at the appropriate age. You’re free to choose tutors or alternative methods, as long as they comply with the law. If you need more information on schooling options, there’s plenty of material at the front desk, but that’s not my speciality.”

Tony exhaled slowly, his relief evident. “Good. That takes a weight off.”

For a moment, the room settled into a comfortable silence. Harry glanced at his dad, feeling lighter, the weight of uncertainty slowly lifting from his shoulders. He could feel Tony’s steady presence beside him, a reassurance that whatever lay ahead, they would figure it out together.

Daniel looked between them, his tone softening as he asked, “Any other concerns before we move forward with the paperwork?”

Harry glanced at Tony, and with a small smile, he shook his head. “No, I’m ready. Let’s move forward with me becoming an American wizard.”

Tony grinned, proud of how well Harry was handling everything. He gave a quick nod to Daniel. “Yeah, I think we’re all set.”

“Very well,” Daniel said, pulling the documents forward. “Dr Stark, if I could have you sign where marked in red, and Harry, you’ll need to sign at the places marked in green.”

As Daniel handed over the paperwork, Harry felt a strange sense of finality settling in. This was it; a new beginning, a fresh start in a world that held so much potential. It wasn’t just about changing his magical citizenship; it was about claiming his place in this new life with Tony by his side.

Harry took the pen with steady hands and signed where indicated, each signature feeling like a small step toward solidifying who he was becoming. Tony followed suit, his focus sharp as he ensured everything was in order. The scratch of their pens was the only sound in the room for a few moments, but there was something comforting in that.

When they were done, Daniel carefully gathered the signed papers and placed them in a folder, sliding them into one of the tubes. With a soft whoosh, it disappeared upwards, whisked away to wherever magical documents went to be processed.

“Now, Harry,” Daniel began, his tone soft yet formal, “please stand, place your right hand over your left breast, and repeat after me.”

Harry shot a glance at Tony, who gave him an encouraging nod. Standing, Harry followed Daniel’s instructions, his hand trembling slightly as it came to rest over his heart.

“I hereby declare,” Daniel began, his voice steady.

“I hereby declare,” Harry repeated, his own voice soft but determined.

“On oath…”

“On oath…”

As the words flowed between them, the weight of the moment started to settle in. Harry could feel each phrase pulling him deeper into this new life, each declaration a step further from the past he was trying to leave behind. Tony’s eyes stayed on Harry, his heart swelling with pride at how mature and composed Harry seemed despite the gravity of the situation.

“That I, Harry James Anthony Potter…”

The sound of his full name, spoken with purpose, struck a chord within Harry. This was more than just reciting words. It was a declaration of identity, of belonging, something that had always felt just out of reach.

“Absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure…”

He spoke the rest of the oath clearly, his voice growing stronger with each phrase. Following along with the words Daniel spoke.

“All allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty…”

“Of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen. That I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, Against all enemies, foreign and domestic…”

Tony watched in awe, as his son spoke every word without fault, confidently renouncing his British identity.

“That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same. That I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law. That I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; And that I take this obligation freely; without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion.”

By the time he reached the final line, “…so help me Lady Magic,” Harry’s heart was racing, but not from fear. It was from the quiet excitement of becoming something new.

Daniel offered him a reassuring smile. “You are now a citizen of both the United States of America and the Magical Congress of the United States of America. You may be seated.”

Harry sank back into his chair beside Tony, who placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. For a moment, there was silence between them, a shared understanding of what this meant for both their futures.

But Tony’s expression had shifted, a small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Daniel noticed and addressed it with a knowing look.

“I can tell what’s on your mind, Dr Stark,” Daniel said, his tone taking on a slightly lighter note. “It’s understandable. But rest assured, every magical person seeking American citizenship must go through this oath. It’s actually more lenient than what No-Maj citizens swear to. Unlike them, magical folk are not required to fight in conflicts unless they volunteer. It’s not mandatory, and the option remains a choice.”

Tony relaxed slightly, his frown easing. “Good to know. I’d prefer Harry not be forced into anything.”

Harry glanced at his dad, appreciating the quiet protectiveness behind his words. Tony always seemed to be one step ahead when it came to shielding him from unnecessary burdens.

Daniel shifted topics smoothly. “Now, about who already knows and who might need to know about magic in your life.”

Harry took a deep breath, preparing to explain. “My aunt and cousin know, though it was mostly because I lived with them, and they couldn’t exactly avoid it. My uncle knew before he passed, but… they’ve always hated anything abnormal, and magic is far from normal in their eyes.

“My dad knows, obviously, because I kind of had to tell him when the lights kept popping around me. And Steve Rogers found out at the same time. Although he says he already knew about magic. Apparently, during the war, he fought alongside wizards. Apparently, HYDRA got involved with the war against Grindelwald.

Daniel listened carefully, nodding as he absorbed the information. “And that’s the full list of non-magical people who are aware?”

“Yes,” Tony confirmed, cutting in to add his own assurance.

“I see no issue with those individuals knowing,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “However, we may need to investigate further into your other family members, just to assess their intentions. But only if they ever come to reside in America. Now, let’s talk about those who might need to know in the future.”

“The rest of my team could potentially need to know,” Tony said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “We all live under the same roof, and it’s going to be hard to keep things quiet if they see Harry doing magic.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, considering Tony’s words. “That makes sense, but can you be certain these individuals won’t reveal anything beyond the team? Secrets like this are delicate.”

Tony leaned back slightly, confidence radiating from him. “I trust them. If I ask for it to stay in the room, it will. They’re loyal, and they won’t betray me.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second before choosing not to mention Clint and Natasha’s ties to S.H.I.E.L.D. He knew the duo could be trusted to keep this under wraps.

Daniel jotted something down before looking up again. “Who exactly are these individuals?”

“Dr. Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton… and then there’s Thor. I’m not sure if he needs to be included since he’s not from Earth, and well, he’s Asgardian.”

Daniel offered a small smile. “Any non-Earth species are not governed by our magical laws, so Thor wouldn’t be affected. And as we have experienced, Thor already has magical knowledge through his brother, so there’s little concern there. Otherwise, the names you’ve listed seem appropriate. Your reasoning is sound.”

Tony nodded, feeling a weight lift. “Good. I trust them all.”

“If there are any changes in the future,” Daniel continued, his tone professional, “whether new people are informed or if someone needs to, unfortunately, forget, you’ll need to contact the Department of Information Containment. You can write to them or visit them personally. Just make sure to keep us updated.”

“Understood,” Tony said, his tone final.

Daniel stood, a polite smile on his face. “Well, I believe that wraps up everything. I’ll escort you back to the entrance and direct you to the information area. Once that’s done, my work here will be complete.”

Tony, rising to his feet, exchanged a glance with Harry before addressing Daniel. "Actually, I was advised by a magical doctor to seek help here in America for the removal of some shrapnel in my chest. I’d like to get that taken care of."

Daniel’s expression softened with concern. “Of course. You’ll find information on magical healers where I’m taking you. The information desk will have details about everything you’ll need; medical services, schooling options, magical districts in New York, upcoming events, businesses, and more.”

As they walked through the waiting room and down the hallway, Tony kept a hand on Harry’s shoulder, gently guiding him as they followed Daniel into the elevator. It was strange, the quiet between them. A comfortable kind of quiet, one where neither felt the need to fill the space with idle chatter. Just the presence of one another was enough. Daniel led them through the grand atrium, and with a polite nod, left them a few meters away from the information desk before disappearing back into his office.

The information desk appeared deceptively normal, but Tony could already sense something was different. Behind the counter sat a woman, her workspace surrounded by racks and shelves that seemed alive, shifting and moving of their own accord. The slight hum of magic buzzed through the air.

"Hello, how can I help you?" the woman asked with a professional smile.

Tony stepped forward. "We’re looking for all the information you’ve got on magical schools and tutors, as well as doctors here in America. Oh, and any details on magical areas in New York."

He paused, glancing back at Harry and adding with a wry smile, "Actually, it might be easier if you just gave us one of everything."

The woman raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "New to the magical world?"

"You could say that," Tony replied casually, before gesturing to Harry. "But my son isn’t."

The woman’s eyes flicked to Harry, widening in recognition. There was a moment of realization, Tony Stark, the famous Avenger, and Harry Potter. But she composed herself quickly and gave a sharp nod. "Of course. I’ll get you one of everything we have. It’ll just take a moment."

Harry watched in quiet awe as racks and drawers sprang open, releasing a whirlwind of brochures and booklets of all shapes and sizes. Even more material flew in from behind the woman, clearly coming from other parts of the building. The scene was mesmerizing, and for a second, Tony caught the familiar look of wonder on Harry’s face, the same look he’d had the first time he saw Stark Tower.

Soon, two large paper bags, enchanted with expansion charms, floated to the counter, filled to the brim with information. “That should be everything,” the woman said, offering a polite smile. “Have a good day.”

Tony gave her a nod, picking up the bags with ease. “Thanks. Alright, Harry, let’s get out of here. I think we’re officially done.”

As they stepped out of the building, Tony glanced at his watch and realized two hours had flown by. Between signing documents and taking in all the new information, time had slipped away from them.

Harry’s stomach growled, and Tony chuckled softly. "Should we grab some food like we said we would?" he asked, his voice teasing but gentle.

“Can we get some muffins?” Harry asked, his eyes lighting up.

Tony ruffled his son’s hair with affection. "We sure can, kiddo. And let’s grab some doughnuts for Brucie-bear too, as a little thank you for this morning."

They walked toward a nearby bakery, the quiet, easy rhythm between them returning. Inside, the warm smell of baked goods filled the air, and Tony couldn't help but smile as Harry picked out a couple dozen muffins for everyone at the tower. They also grabbed half a dozen doughnuts, which Tony was sure Bruce would appreciate, though he imagined the scientist would make a joke about the sugar content.

As they left the bakery, they were spotted by a few people. He could feel their eyes on them, as he tried to lead Harry away. People were pulling out their phones already. He knew there’d be trouble tomorrow. Going through articles that would appear, and requests for interviews. A headache for sure, but right now, it didn’t matter.

Driving back to the tower, Tony kept the pace slow as they wove through the busy streets. The city was alive with energy, and despite the inevitable flood of work that awaited him, Tony was content. Today wasn’t about meetings, it was about spending time with Harry, figuring out their future together. And that mattered more than anything.

As they pulled into the garage of Stark Tower, Tony glanced at Harry, who was already halfway through a muffin. He smiled to himself, the warm feeling of contentment spreading through his chest. He knew the day wasn’t over, there was still time to relax, time to enjoy the company of the team members who were around.

“Ready to share those muffins with the others?” Tony asked with a playful smirk.

Harry grinned back. “If there’s any left.”

Tony laughed, the sound echoing through the garage. "Well, let’s get inside and see if we can’t save a few before you eat them all."

As they made their way toward the elevator, Tony couldn’t help but think how far they’d come. It wasn’t easy, navigating magic and the Avengers, but for the first time in a while, he felt like they were on the right path. Together.

Chapter Text

The days began to blur together as everyone adjusted to their new routines. Tony, now juggling his company, parenthood, and the magical world, found a strange rhythm falling into place. The morning after their trip to M.A.C.U.S.A., Harry spent the day with Steve and Bruce, checking off items from Steve's never-ending list of things he’d missed during his time as a popsicle, his dad’s words, not his.

It had taken some convincing to get Bruce to join them. He was still wary of being around Harry, afraid something would happen, that the Hulk would come out. But Harry, with an easy smile, had reassured him.

“I’m not scared of you,” Harry had said simply, his words cutting through Bruce’s usual hesitance. “I’ve seen the videos. I know what Hulk can do, but I also know you’re Bruce. That’s enough for me.”

Bruce had softened at that, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was rare, but the kid had a way of making people feel safe.

By the end of the afternoon, the trio had fallen into an easy camaraderie, Harry managing to coax even more stories from Steve about the old days and Bruce, surprisingly, chiming in here and there with quiet humour. It felt like a small victory for Harry, bridging the gap between him and the team.

As the week went on, the household began to shift again. Clint and Natasha were due to return on Friday. Something Harry had been eagerly counting down to. Natasha had a way of making him feel grounded in a world that often seemed too chaotic, she was the first female he had been able to look up to.

Clint, though, was to head home to his family for a while, he had promised to be back for Harry’s birthday. Before the spy twins had left, Clint had handed Harry a small, inconspicuous phone number.

“Just in case,” he’d said with a wink. “You ever need me, kid, you call, alright?”

Harry had nodded, tucking the slip of paper safely into his pocket. It felt good knowing Clint was only a phone call away.

~~~~~

Meanwhile, on the lower levels of the tower, Tony was struggling through a five-hour-long board meeting. He found himself absentmindedly tapping on his tablet, half-listening as the board droned on about numbers and projections. His mind was elsewhere, occupied with more important matters, like designing a new way to summon his suit from any distance. He was also sketching out rough ideas of a suit for Harry, something light but protective. He wasn’t about to throw his kid into a fight, but he needed to make sure Harry was safe.

In the back of his mind, Tony was also juggling another project; digitizing everything he had on magic. They’d done some work in London, but it wasn’t enough. He needed someone who could handle the magical archives, a wizard or witch who understood the complexities of magic and technology. But finding someone trustworthy in this realm was tricky.

He’d thought about sending out applications through M.A.C.U.S.A. or maybe contacting the wizarding newspaper. Either way, it would require sifting through all the materials they’d picked up yesterday. Another task for later.

The meeting dragged on, and by the time the hour-long break arrived, Tony was thoroughly bored. The company always tried to cram everything into the meetings he actually attended, but today, his patience was thinner than usual.

As the meeting finally adjourned, Tony headed out of the office and towards the elevator, eager to get back to the penthouse. One of the perks of living in Stark Tower was the quick commute from work to home, at least, on paper. But as the elevator doors slid open, revealing Pepper, standing there with a tense expression, Tony knew his evening was about to take a turn.

"Tony, we need to talk," Pepper said, her frustration clear in her tone. The edge in her voice was sharp enough to cut through the leftover irritation from the meeting.

Tony blinked, momentarily taken aback. It wasn’t that he didn’t expect the conversation, he’d suggested it himself, but the confrontation felt premature. “We need to talk?” he echoed, more out of surprise than anything. He had been hoping they could sit down tomorrow, as agreed. No meetings, no pressure, just an honest conversation.

"Yes." Pepper’s arms crossed over her chest, her chin lifting slightly in that familiar, defiant way. “We need to talk now.”

Tony exhaled, the weight of the day catching up to him. “No,” he said, the word coming out more forceful than he intended. “There’s nothing left to say. You don’t want to believe the truth, and that’s on you. I’m not going to feed you lies just so you can keep some image of me in your head.”

Pepper’s eyes widened, but Tony pushed on, his frustration giving way to something rawer, something that had been building for a while. “There’s a reason we didn’t work out, Pepper. You know it as well as I do. I saw through it; your ambition, the way you prioritized the company over anything else. I let you go because it was better that way. You make a great CEO, I won’t deny that. But if you ever try to sabotage my company, or me, or God help you, my son, you’ll be out of Stark Industries faster than you can blink.”

He paused, his voice dropping lower, the finality of his words heavy in the space between them. “I care about my son, Pepper. And he trusts me. I won’t let anything jeopardize that.”

Without waiting for her response, Tony stepped around her, his mind already on Harry. He needed to get home, back to where things made sense, where there was warmth, care, and something real. Not this.

Tony was right to have ended things with Pepper last year. The realization had come slowly but painfully: she’d only ever seemed genuinely happy when he was buying her expensive, branded items. The more time passed, the more the sparkle in her eyes had dimmed when it wasn’t accompanied by something material.

As he stepped out of the elevator, Tony decided to head to his lab instead of the living area. He couldn’t face Harry while his emotions were in turmoil. His anger simmered too close to the surface, and the last thing he wanted was to lash out or say anything he’d regret.

He had promised himself that he would sit down and talk things through with Pepper; give it one last shot to clear the air between them. But now, after today’s encounter, all he felt was frustration. He had loved her once, truly loved her. He had believed in what they had, but somewhere along the way, things had soured.

Apologies were never enough for her. Every argument, every misunderstanding, seemed to end with him in the wrong, as if his love wasn’t measured by his actions but by the things he could provide. It had taken him a long time to accept that she was using him for his money, but once the truth settled in, there was no going back.

With his thoughts spiralling, Tony did what he always did to escape; he cranked up the ACDC playlist to max volume and buried himself in work. The raw energy of the music helped drown out his anger as he focused on the task at hand, tinkering with designs and modifications that kept his mind busy but his heart untouched.

Hours passed, the world outside forgotten, until the music abruptly cut off. Jarvis’s calm voice filled the lab. “Sir, Captain Rogers is approaching.”

Tony didn’t bother acknowledging the interruption. His hands continued moving, tools sparking as he concentrated on the project before him. Moments later, Steve’s voice broke the quiet hum of the lab.

“Tony?” Steve’s tone was soft, but the concern was evident. Tony turned slowly, trying to mask the anger still lingering in his chest. But Steve knew better. “What happened?”

Tony sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t even know, Cap. Pepper cornered me after the meeting and…” Tony sighed, “I just lost it. She keeps accusing me of lying, questioning me about Harry and the whole story behind how he came into my life. I just… I just snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. And now, I’m too pissed off to be around anyone. I don’t want Harry to see me like this. Not when I can barely hold it together.”

His voice cracked as he finished, and in a rare, vulnerable moment, Tony’s hands went to his hair, tugging at it as if trying to pull himself back from the edge of an emotional outburst.

Steve stepped closer, offering the quiet support Tony hadn’t known he needed. “Tony, it’s okay,” Steve said gently, pulling him into a firm, grounding hug. Tony tensed at first, his body shaking; not from tears but from the sheer weight of everything he was carrying.

“I don’t get it,” Tony whispered after a moment, his voice muffled. “I don’t know where the woman I fell in love with went. Why does it feel like everything was a lie?”

Steve held him tighter, offering the comfort of someone who understood betrayal on a deep, personal level. “You don’t need her to believe you, Tony,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “If she doesn’t trust you, if she can’t see the real you, then she’s not worth it. She never was. You’ve built a life here; with people who care about you. You don’t need her validation.”

Tony shook his head, still struggling to let go of the frustration clawing at him. “But what if it was my fault? Maybe I pushed her away. Maybe I just wasn’t…”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, his tone firm but kind. “It’s not your fault. You’re a good man. Hell, you’re a great dad. I’ve seen the way Harry looks at you. That kid adores you. You’ve done right by him, and that’s what matters.” Steve pulled back slightly, looking Tony in the eyes. “The people who are closest to you, the ones who really matter, believe in you. Who gives a flying fuck about what others think.”

Tony blinked, taken aback by Steve’s words, but also by the surprising levity that followed. “Wait,” Tony said, half-laughing, half in disbelief. “Did you just… did Captain America just swear?”

Steve smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Tony, I’m from Brooklyn. Of course, I swear. Maybe not all the time, especially after the army, but trust me, I do.”

Tony shook his head, a laugh escaping him despite the tension still in his chest. “Well, I’ll be damned. Captain Stars and Stripes, has a mouth.”

Steve chuckled, glad to see some of Tony’s humour creeping back. “You know, we’re making apple pie upstairs,” Steve said, his voice softer now, coaxing Tony out of his lab and back into the warmth of the tower. “Harry’s been cooking up a storm, and I promised him an all-American dessert. You should come up, and join us. I know you don’t want to let him down.”

Tony hesitated for a moment, but Steve’s words broke through the fog of anger and self-doubt that had clouded his mind.

“Yeah, alright,” Tony said, finally standing up straighter. “I’ll finish up here, then I’ll come join you guys. Just give me a few minutes.”

Steve gave him an encouraging smile before heading out of the lab, leaving Tony in the sudden, comforting silence. For a moment, Tony lingered, glancing at the piece of work he had been fiddling with. He took a deep breath, finishing up the small adjustments he’d been making before setting the project aside.

True to his word, Tony made his way to the kitchen not long after. As he entered the room, he was greeted by the warmth of home; Harry laughing over something on the stove, and Bruce already sitting at the counter, his usual calm presence a reassuring balm. He wasn’t used to everyone in the penthouse, but he was enjoying it. It no longer just felt like a place to sleep.

Tony slid into a seat beside Bruce, and just like that, the weight of the day seemed to lift as they fell into an easy conversation, trading thoughts on the latest advancements in their respective fields. The tension from earlier began to dissipate, replaced by the simple joy of being surrounded by the people who mattered most.

~~~~~~

The next few days flew by in a comfortable rhythm. The team, plus Harry, were eagerly awaiting Natasha’s return from her latest mission. When she finally arrived, they welcomed her back with warm greetings, but true to her nature, she spent a little time with them before quietly retreating to her room. No one pressed her; Natasha needed her space after long missions, and the team understood that. When Friday evening rolled around and she didn’t reappear, they decided to postpone their monthly movie night until Saturday, hoping she’d be more rested by then.

In the meantime, Tony dove back into his project, flipping through the mountain of information leaflets they had picked up from MACUSA. It was tedious work, but when he stumbled upon the magical newspaper, the M.A.N.Y. (Magical American New York) Daily Times, a smirk crossed his face. Finally, some luck.

He immediately got to work, drafting an application. Stark Industries was looking to hire someone well-versed in magical knowledge to help digitize centuries of arcane information onto secure, private servers; accessible only to those in the magical world.

The more Tony thought about it, the more he realized the potential. Why stop at keeping the knowledge private for his own use? He could offer the service to the wider wizarding world, starting with the American magical community. It would be a challenge, but Stark Industries thrived on those.

Satisfied with his application notice, he borrowed Hedwig to send out the letter. The owl was graceful and efficient, her feathers a brilliant contrast to the dark New York skyline as she disappeared into the night. Tony’s mind buzzed with the possibilities as he awaited a response. He didn’t have to wait long; by the next morning, the M.A.N.Y. Daily Times had replied, confirming that his ad would be published in the upcoming issue. Things were moving faster than he’d expected, and for once, he welcomed it.

While waiting for responses from the magical community, Tony had also been busy focusing on something closer to home: Harry’s education. He wanted to ensure that his son had a well-rounded, solid foundation. Better than what most traditional schools could offer. He knew that homeschooling would give Harry the best of both worlds: magical studies alongside a robust academic curriculum. But it was a heavy responsibility, and Tony felt the weight of it on his shoulders.

He was meticulous in selecting teachers for Harry’s core subjects. The American education system wasn’t good enough in his eyes, not for Harry. Tony had experienced firsthand how watered-down it could be compared to the rigorous schooling he’d had growing up. He was determined to provide Harry with the best education, no matter what it took.

First, there was English. Harry had missed two years of formal schooling in this area, so Tony was focused on finding a teacher from the U.K. to ensure his son learned proper English, not the Americanized version. He knew the importance of language and how it shaped thought, and he didn’t want Harry to miss out on that. It would also be better for Harry to continue learning through the same medium of English.

Mathematics was next on Tony's list. Rather than splitting the subject into fragmented sections, he intended for Harry to study the subject in its entirety. That’s how it was done in the U.K., and in Tony’s view, it gave students a much deeper understanding of the subject. His plan was to find a tutor who could guide Harry through it at a faster pace, ensuring that all the different aspects—algebra, geometry, calculus; came together naturally.

Then came the sciences. Tony was excited about this part. Harry would be learning physics, chemistry, and ‘Natural sciences,’ which was just biology. He wanted Harry to understand how the world worked, both in the mundane and magical sense. There was something magical about science itself, after all, and Tony wanted Harry to appreciate the wonder in both.

History and geography, taught together as social sciences, were also on the list. Tony believed the two subjects complemented each other, and it was important for Harry to understand the world, both past and present. It wasn’t just about facts; it was about perspective, about seeing how events shaped the world and understanding his place in it.

Then there was Latin, a language Tony felt was crucial not just for Harry’s academic growth but also for his magical studies. The roots of so many magical spells were in Latin, and mastering it would give Harry an edge in both his academic and magical pursuits. Tony was already in talks with a Latin tutor, someone who specialized in teaching young wizards and witches, and worked in the academic world, luckily here in New York.

Tony had also arranged for Harry to learn Italian, something personal and dear to his heart. Tony’s mother had been Italian, and the language had been part of his upbringing. It wasn’t just about the words; it was about family, culture, and connection. He wanted Harry to have that piece of his heritage.

As he considered all of this, Tony found himself thinking about how much he was asking of Harry. The kid had agreed to be homeschooled, knowing full well that this education would be intensive, especially with the magical curriculum added on top of everything else. Tony was planning a rotating two-week schedule: one week dedicated to regular academic subjects, the next focused entirely on magic.

It was a lot, sure, but Harry had faced challenges most kids his age never would, and Tony knew he could handle it. Besides, other children around the world took on similar loads of work and thought it was normal; why should Harry be any different?

Still, a flicker of worry nagged at the back of Tony’s mind. Was he pushing Harry too hard? Would it all be too much? He shook off the doubt. Harry had wanted this, and Tony wasn’t about to let his son fall behind in either the magical or the mundane world. If anything, he’d make sure Harry excelled in both.

With appointments lined up for Monday to meet with potential tutors, Tony felt like he was making real progress. His life had shifted so drastically since taking Harry in, but for the first time in a long while, Tony felt grounded. There was purpose in all of this, a new kind of responsibility that went beyond business meetings and technological advancements. It was about Harry’s future, and Tony would do anything to ensure it was a bright one.

~~~~~

Harry's birthday was fast approaching, next Wednesday, to be exact, and Tony was torn on how to celebrate it. He wanted the day to be special, unforgettable even, but figuring out the best way to spoil Harry had proven trickier than expected. Renting out an amusement park or somewhere flashy had crossed his mind, but Tony knew his son better than that by now. Harry wasn’t the type to want grand gestures just for the sake of them.

Maybe a day of sightseeing? The thought had merit. Despite living in the city for a while now, Harry hadn’t had the chance to explore New York properly. Tony imagined taking him to all the iconic spots, Central Park, the Empire State Building, and Times Square. Not just a quick tour, but an actual day out, the whole team tagging along to make it more personal. He knew Harry would appreciate the experience more than anything material.

But still, there were gifts. A mountain of them, to be exact, tucked away in a warehouse and ready to be brought into the tower the night before Harry's birthday. Tony had gone overboard, as usual, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t just about getting him things, each gift represented a part of his affection, his hope to give Harry everything he never had growing up.

He knew the others had gotten Harry gifts too. Little by little, Tony had noticed how his team was shaping Harry's interests, pulling him into their own hobbies. Clint had introduced him to archery, and Natasha… well, she was teaching him things Tony tried very hard not to think about.

Speaking of Clint, Birdbrain who had casually dropped a bombshell about his family, mentioned that he’d be bringing his family to the birthday celebration. Tony was still trying to wrap his head around that one. Somehow the featherless chicken had managed to keep a whole family hidden from the team for years, and that still baffled him. A family man, yet Clint had always seemed perfectly content in the chaos of their world.

Tony shook his head, still amused. Either way, Tony had welcomed the idea with open arms. He didn’t care about the age gap between Clint’s kids and Harry; he was sure they’d hit it off just fine.

Saturday rolled around faster than expected, and the day passed in a blur of activity. Harry spent most of the morning with Natasha, and Tony couldn’t help but smirk when he saw them together. It was clear his kid had taken a liking to the Black Widow, and Tony chose not to intervene as Nat showed Harry the basics of knife-throwing after their morning workout. Great, Tony thought, because what every twelve-almost-thirteen-year-old needs is advanced combat skills.

He chuckled to himself as he retreated back to the lab. There was a sense of peace now, a quiet kind of trust that had grown between him and Harry over the last month. Tony didn’t feel the constant need to hover anymore, anxious that something might go wrong if they weren’t together every second. It was liberating to know Harry was safe with the team, and that they genuinely cared for him. He’d built this strange little family, and somehow, they were all finding their way.

Back in his lab, Tony found himself working on a few more last-minute touches for Harry’s birthday surprise. There was still that little nagging voice in his head; was it enough? Was he doing enough? He knew it wasn’t about the presents or the trips or even the team’s involvement. It was about being there, being the father Harry needed. The father he had never had. He had read somewhere that absent fathers create absent fathers. He didn’t want that to happen. And with each passing day, Tony felt more and more certain that he was getting it right.

But there was always room to do better, always that part of him striving to make up for lost time. He wasn’t just planning a birthday; he was building a life for Harry, one where he could feel secure, loved, and free to be himself.

As the day wound down and Tony tinkered with the last piece of Harry’s surprise, he glanced at the clock. The week ahead would be full, with plans and schedules, but it would also be filled with moments he knew he wouldn’t forget. Whatever else the future held, Tony knew he was finally in the right place, and that was worth more than any gift he could give.

~~~~~~

Sunday morning dawned, casting a soft light over the vast grounds of Hogwarts. Dumbledore sat at his desk in the high tower, gazing out through the window as he mulled over his latest frustrations. The quiet stillness of the school grounds did little to soothe his growing agitation.

He felt it. a faint but unmistakable weakening of the wards around the Dursleys' home. Though the wards weren't blood wards, as he had claimed for years, they still provided a crucial layer of protection for Harry, a safeguard that had to be recharged annually when Harry returned "home."

But something had shifted, and Dumbledore wasn’t sure what. As far as he could guess, the Dursleys had simply gone on holiday, oblivious to the enchantments surrounding their house. It wasn’t as if they were particularly attentive to matters of magic, after all. The headmaster grimaced, his blue eyes darkening as he recalled the disdain with which they’d always regarded Harry.

Still, he reassured himself that, though unpleasant, they were necessary for the boy’s safety and eventual role in the greater fight ahead. Dumbledore refused to consider the possibility that something could have happened to Harry, no, the wards were still in place, just weakening. His little pawn was still alright.

His hand hovered over a half-written letter on his desk, addressed to the Dursleys. His polite tone had faded the longer he sat with his frustration. Albus wrote sternly, warning them of the dire consequences if they didn’t return to their home soon. He chose not to mention that the wards would hold until November, determined to give them a sense of urgency. He tapped the letter with his wand, sealing it, but his anger simmered beneath the surface.

It had been a long and trying few months. First, the unexpected escape of Sirius Black from Azkaban had shaken him to the core. He knew Black would want to seek out Harry, perhaps even reveal truths best kept buried. Though Albus didn’t believe Black would risk returning to Harry now, the potential was dangerous. There was always the slight chance Sirius could prove his innocence, and that would be a catastrophe.

He had checked in with the Weasleys and Peter was still there, safe. Sirius hadn’t gotten to him, yet. If Harry fell into his godfather's hands, Dumbledore's carefully laid plans would unravel. Sirius was too unpredictable, and if he managed to clear his name and claim Harry, the boy would be taken out of Dumbledore’s direct influence. Even though Sirius generally agreed with his broader views, Dumbledore could not risk losing his chance to shape Harry into the weapon he would need to defeat Voldemort.

That thought darkened his mood further. As if Black's escape wasn’t troubling enough, Dumbledore had recently found himself banished from Gringotts, a blow to both his pride and his plans. The goblins, notoriously difficult to deal with, had refused him access to Harry's vaults, and the Potter account manager had all but disappeared on him.

Albus had always relied on his status as Harry’s magical guardian to monitor the boy’s finances and keep a close eye on any dealings that might interfere with his carefully orchestrated narrative. Now, he was shut out entirely. He couldn’t help but suspect that the Ministry might be involved, or worse, someone else pulling strings behind the scenes. The loss of control gnawed at him.

And then, of course, there were the wards. Always the wards, and the pressure they represented. Why had they weakened now? He drummed his fingers on the desk, the sound punctuating his growing frustration.

As if Lady Magic herself had conspired against him, this year seemed poised to be one of his most challenging yet. He had managed to secure Remus Lupin for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, something, at least, had gone right. Remus was loyal, trustworthy, and, most importantly, manageable. A werewolf’s position in society was precarious, and Dumbledore knew that the man would be eager to repay his kindness, making him less likely to ask too many questions.

But Lupin’s presence also carried risks. He was part of the old Marauder group, dangerously close to the truth about Sirius and Peter. That connection could complicate things, but Albus had weighed the risks and decided it was a manageable gamble. Besides, he needed someone competent in the cursed position, and Lupin fit the bill. Still, the thought of how closely the man’s loyalties might lie with Sirius made Dumbledore’s stomach twist in unease.

With a sigh, Dumbledore rose from his desk, pacing slowly in front of the window, the hem of his midnight-blue robes sweeping silently across the floor. The year ahead loomed like a storm cloud on the horizon, dark and full of unknowns. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite all his manoeuvring, things were beginning to slip through his fingers. The balance he had worked so hard to maintain was threatening to tip.

But Albus Dumbledore had faced worse before. His mind was sharp, and he still had cards to play. He would figure out what had caused the weakening of the wards, and he would stop Sirius Black before the man could do any more damage. Harry Potter’s future, and the future of the wizarding world, depended on it.

As he stared out at the grounds below, he tried to calm the storm brewing inside him. The year would not be easy, but he would see it through. He always did.

Chapter Text

A new week had begun, and Tony Stark found himself preparing for a long day of interviews. He wasn’t just screening candidates for any job. These were potential teachers for Harry, and Tony was determined to find the absolute best. No compromises. Even if it meant sitting through back-to-back interviews all day. With the first one scheduled for nine, Tony glanced at his watch. He still had half an hour to prepare, but his mind was already buzzing with questions for the candidates.

Upstairs, Harry was in his room, talking to Hermione through the enchanted mirror they used to stay in touch. Hermione had gone to visit Ron, but Ron wasn’t too thrilled that Harry had left Hogwarts. Harry could feel Ron's frustration even through Hermione’s reassurances. He promised Ron he'd write soon, but a small part of him dreaded those letters. What could he say that would make his friends understand the enormity of what had changed in his life?

Tony, meanwhile, sipped his coffee, scrolling through last-minute notes on his tablet. A faint frown creased his forehead. He couldn’t help but worry about the gap in Harry’s education, two full years without a formal school structure, plus the whole complication of switching between magical and non-magical subjects. It wasn’t just about finding good teachers; it was about finding educators who could help Harry catch up without overwhelming him. Crash courses, extended hours... whatever it took to fill in the gaps.

He also had to balance this with something lighter. Harry’s birthday was coming up in just a few days, and Tony still had a few loose ends to tie up for the celebration. He didn’t want to go overboard, but that familiar itch of wanting to spoil Harry gnawed at him. There were a few places he still needed to call, and a few surprises he wanted to check on. I can handle this, he told himself, shifting focus back to the interviews.

By the time Harry came downstairs, Tony had nearly finished his coffee and was skimming through his plans for the day. Harry grabbed a piece of fruit, excitement flickering in his eyes as he prepared to meet his potential teachers. But beneath the surface, a hint of nervousness lingered. The weight of expectation always seemed to follow him, at Hogwarts, it was because of who he was: The Boy Who Lived. Here, in his new life, he didn’t know what these teachers would expect from him, but he hoped it wouldn’t be the same kind of pressure. He was done being the Chosen One. He wanted to be Harry, just Harry.

After a quiet moment with Tony, Harry slipped back upstairs, lost in his thoughts. He had never really known his parents. Well, his mom and adoptive dad. Now he had Tony, but the question still haunted him, how much of him was shaped by those he’d never had the chance to meet? He tried to shake the thought away, focusing on the day ahead.

The interviews started promptly at nine, and by noon, Tony and Harry had already gone through ten candidates. Only one had really stood out, Lloyd Binion, a tall, dark-skinned man in his late fifties, who had left his previous school over disagreements about student independence. He would be teaching Harry maths. Tony had liked his approach to education, structured, but not rigid, and Harry had felt at ease during their conversation. Still, it was only one out of ten, and the day wasn’t even half over.

The interviews were gruelling, lasting about twenty minutes each, and Tony could sense Harry’s patience wearing thin. After the next interview, they decided to take a break before tackling the next batch of ten. Tony stretched, feeling the strain in his back, and glanced at Harry, who looked more thoughtful than tired. "You doing okay?" Tony asked.

Harry nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. "Yeah, just... I hope we find the right people."

Tony smiled. "We will. It’s a process, but we’ll get there."

By the time the final interview ended in the mid-afternoon, Tony had whittled down the pool of candidates to a select few he hoped would work out. Of the twenty they had met, he felt confident about four. Besides Binion, there was Janice Bennetts, a British woman in her late forties who would be teaching English. She had an air of strict professionalism but spoke warmly about fostering creativity in students, a balance Tony appreciated.

Then there was Hwang Soen-Hwan, a young Asian man with a bright, engaging personality who had offered an innovative approach to teaching Physics. Tony could already see Harry getting lost in conversations about science with him, the way he often did with Bruce. And finally, Estela Linde, a Spanish woman in her thirties, who had been in correspondence with Tony long before the others. She was not only a skilled Latin teacher but also a witch who had done her wizarding master's on the application of Latin in spellcasting. Her enthusiasm for both magic and language was palpable, and Tony was confident she could make the often-daunting subject exciting for Harry.

"We’ve got a solid group here," Tony said as they wrapped up. "Four out of twenty isn’t bad."

Harry nodded but didn’t say much. The interviews had drained him, and there was still the lingering question of how much catching up he’d have to do. Tony noticed the quiet look on Harry’s face, a familiar shadow of doubt.

"Hey," Tony said gently, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. "We’ll make this work. We’ll find a rhythm that suits you, okay?"

Harry looked up, managing a small smile. "I know, Dad. I’m just... nervous, I guess."

Tony smiled back. "That’s normal. But don’t worry, you’re not doing this alone."

As they left the interview room, Tony felt a small weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t over yet, there were more teachers to interview next week, and he still had Harry’s birthday to plan. But for the first time, it felt like things were beginning to fall into place.

Tony spent the last few hours of the day making calls, double-checking every detail to ensure Harry’s upcoming birthday would be perfect. He was juggling reservations, confirming delivery times for the mountain of gifts he’d stashed away, and generally making sure no stone was left unturned. Meanwhile, Harry had slipped off to spend time with Natasha, where she was telling him about a new, and somewhat unexpected skill, knife throwing.

The next day, Clint arrived at the tower, a sheepish smile on his face as he apologized. "Sorry, the family couldn’t make it this time," he said, scratching the back of his head. "But they send their best wishes, and we’ll all come by soon, promise."

Harry nodded, a little disappointed but understanding. "That’s okay. I’m looking forward to meeting them when they can come."

Clint grinned, ruffling Harry’s hair. "They’ll love you, kid."

After Clint’s arrival, Harry spent the rest of the morning with Natasha, continuing their lessons from the day before. She was patient but firm as she adjusted his grip on the handle of the knife.

Natasha had been patient as she explained the fundamentals to him. "Grip it a little further down the handle. If you hold it too high, it won't release cleanly," she instructed.

Harry adjusted his grip, eyes narrowed in concentration as he mirrored her stance. "Like this?"

"Perfect. Now, watch me." Natasha moved fluidly, her foot sliding into position, one behind the other. With effortless grace, she drew her arm back and snapped it forward, releasing the knife. The blade flew cleanly through the air and embedded itself with a satisfying thunk into the padded wall.

Harry's eyes lit up with amazement. "Wow..."

"Your turn." Natasha stepped back, allowing him room to practice. Harry tried to mimic her movements, adjusting his stance with her guidance. When he finally let the knife go, it spun awkwardly, the hilt bouncing off the wall and landing harmlessly on the floor.

"Not bad for your first try," Natasha said, her tone encouraging. "But you let go just a bit too early. Hold on a fraction longer, and you'll get the blade to hit next time."

Before Harry could attempt another throw, Clint appeared, leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed with a smirk. "I thought you'd at least wait for me before you started teaching the kid how to throw knives."

Natasha didn’t miss a beat, rolling her eyes as she turned to him. "Please, like you weren’t already watching from the vents. You just decided to make an appearance now."

Clint’s mock offence was immediate, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. "How rude. Here I was, giving you two your bonding time."

The banter between the two Avengers was something Harry had grown to love. It felt like watching siblings bicker, and the lightheartedness of it all made him feel more at home. He couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to tease each other, their words flying as fast as Natasha’s knives.

Just as Harry was preparing for another attempt, Tony walked in, his voice ringing with mock sternness. "Nope. We are not teaching my kid how to throw knives before he’s even thirteen." He shot a playful glare at all three of them, his hands resting on his hips.

Harry grinned, knowing exactly how to push back. "I’m thirteen tomorrow. What’s one day?"

Tony huffed dramatically, eyes wide. "What’s the difference? One day makes a huge difference, buddy! In a day, I could invent something entirely new. Or you could... well, not become an assassin just yet." His faux seriousness was betrayed by the grin tugging at his lips. "Clint, Nat, can we all agree to hold off on turning him into a deadly weapon until after his birthday?"

The two exchanged mischievous glances before Clint finally spoke, a playful smirk curling at the edges of his mouth. "We can wait... until tomorrow. After that, no promises."

Natasha nodded with a mock-serious expression. "We’ll start teaching him how to properly protect himself after his birthday, but every year he gets something new. By next year, he’ll be even more prepared."

Tony groaned dramatically but couldn’t help but laugh. "Fine, fine. You can teach him something new every year, at least until he’s sixteen. I just don’t want a mini-assassin running around the tower. Not yet, at least."

Harry chuckled at the scene, feeling the warmth of the banter wrap around him like a cosy blanket. This was what family felt like; people who would tease and protect him in equal measure. The feeling of belonging was something Harry cherished, and moments like this made the chaos of his life feel a little more stable.

As lunchtime approached, Harry slipped away from the ongoing bickering between Clint and Natasha, deciding to find Steve. The captain had promised to help him bake something special for the team. After all, Harry figured, he couldn’t just learn to throw knives, he needed to master cupcakes too.

~~~~~~

Harry woke up on Wednesday morning to the persistent tapping of something against his window. It wasn’t just any window; it was a wall of windows that offered a stunning view of the city. Groggy from sleep, he rubbed his eyes and saw a weary owl flapping its wings outside, desperately seeking a place to land. His heart leapt. Hogwarts letter.

Throwing off his blankets, he scrambled out of his room, racing downstairs to the living area. He slid open the balcony door, and the owl swooped in gratefully, perching gracefully on the designated owl perch Tony had set up. Harry quickly fetched some treats and fresh water for the owl before gently retrieving the letter strapped to its leg.

"What's all this commotion about?" Tony’s voice came from behind, and Harry turned to see him coming down the stairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"It's my Hogwarts letter," Harry replied, holding up the envelope.

Tony raised an eyebrow and sighed dramatically. "Well, there go all my morning plans. I even set an alarm."

Harry laughed at his dad’s playful frustration, passing him the letter. Tony glanced over the parchment briefly before a more serious look crossed his face. He quickly grabbed a pen and scribbled his own response.

Dear Professor McGonagall,

It has come to my attention that my son, Harry, has faced significant danger during both of his years at Hogwarts. As his guardian, I cannot, in good conscience, allow him to continue in an environment where his safety is repeatedly compromised.

Therefore, I am withdrawing Harry from Hogwarts to provide him with a more secure and well-rounded education.

Best regards,
Dr Anthony Stark.

"Here," Tony said, attaching the letter to the now-rested owl’s leg. "You can take this back after you've had a good break." The owl hooted softly in thanks as Tony gave it a gentle pat before turning to Harry. "Alright, kiddo, let’s stick to the plan today, shall we?"

Tony led the way into the kitchen, where a full spread of breakfast greeted them, waffles, fresh fruit, pastries, everything Harry loved. The private chef he had hired had gone all out.

"Happy birthday, kid," Tony said, grinning as he watched Harry’s eyes widen at the sight. "Go ahead, dig in."

"Thank you!" Harry eagerly filled his plate with waffles, piling on syrup, fruit, and a bit of everything else, his excitement bubbling over.

Tony sat down next to him, casually filling his own plate. As they ate, he looked over at Harry, his face softening with affection. "I hope you're ready for today. I’ve got a lot planned."

"You really didn’t have to do anything, Dad," Harry mumbled between bites, feeling touched but a little overwhelmed.

Tony waved the comment away, his tone turning serious but warm. "Nope, none of that today. You're a Stark now, Harry, and most importantly, you're my son. I’m gonna spoil you, and you’ll just have to deal with it." He smirked, though his eyes held a deeper emotion. "Honestly, I never thought I’d have a kid in my life. But now you’re here, and I’m gonna make sure you get all the good stuff I couldn’t give you before."

Harry paused, his fork midway to his mouth, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest. "Thanks, Dad. For everything."

Tony smiled, a little softer this time. "You’re worth it, kid. Now, hurry up with those waffles before I eat them all."

They shared a quiet laugh, the easy rhythm of their bond carrying them through the rest of the morning, filled with warmth and the unspoken promise of a day full of surprises.

After breakfast, Tony led Harry down to the common area. They noticed the owl had already left, while Hedwig had returned from her nightly adventures. As they approached, Harry could hear the lively chatter of the tower's occupants. Walking into the room, the conversation paused, and everyone turned to face them.

“Happy Birthday, Harry!” they all called out, their voices overlapping in a cheerful chorus, grins spreading across their faces.

Tony grinned widely. “Happy Birthday, son!”

Harry beamed back, his smile so wide it made his cheeks ache. “Thanks, everyone!”

Clint nudged him forward, gesturing to the massive pile of presents. “Come on, kid, there’s a mountain of gifts with your name on it!”

Harry couldn’t remember ever receiving so many presents. It was overwhelming but in the best possible way. Suspecting most of them came from his dad, he didn’t rush through them. Instead, he took his time, neatly unwrapping each one. Clint groaned in mock impatience.

“Rip them open, will ya?” Clint teased, shaking his head.

Harry laughed but continued at his own pace. Some of the gifts were... interesting. Clint had gotten him a bow and arrows in a deep green, the same shade as his eyes, along with a book on “The Best Hiding Places.” Harry chuckled, figuring that was very on-brand for Clint. Nat’s gifts had seemed relatively tame at first—until he opened the last package. A leather journal, a book on lock-picking, and a case of throwing knives that matched the colour of his new bow. Harry shook his head, wondering what his dad would think.

Bruce, ever the calming presence, had gifted him a Spanish cookbook and a baking book focused on sweets, which made Harry think of the times they’d cooked together. He laughed when he opened Steve’s present to find a pair of Iron Man socks tucked alongside some candy and tickets to a Broadway show. Simple, thoughtful, exactly what he’d expect from the man.

And then, there were the gifts from Tony.

His dad had gone all out. Among the many items were every gaming console imaginable, along with a stack of games. But the real surprise came when Harry unwrapped a custom-built computer. Tony had designed it himself, specifically for Harry’s schoolwork and any future projects.

Harry looked around at everyone, his heart full. “Thank you, everyone...” He blinked, trying to keep the tears in his eyes from spilling over. “This really means a lot to me.”

Natasha, ever the quiet comfort, ruffled his hair gently. “You’re one of us now, kid. We’re family.”

Tony clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder, his expression soft. “Come on, birthday boy, let’s get dressed. We’ve got a full day ahead.”

Harry nodded, hurrying to change. When he came back down, everyone was gathered in the parking area, standing around a van. The excitement was palpable.

“Where are we going, Dad?” Harry asked, following Tony closely.

Tony flashed him a grin. “You’ve been in New York for weeks and haven’t even scratched the surface. Today, we’re showing you the city—our favourite spots and some of the iconic ones too.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He had never imagined getting a personal tour of New York City from the Avengers. This was shaping up to be the best birthday he could have ever dreamed of.

Hopping into the van alongside the Avengers, Harry sat back as Happy drove them to the start of their adventure. Their first stop was the Statue of Liberty. Tony had insisted they begin with the iconic landmark since the boat ride would take time, and it was something Harry had to experience firsthand.

As they arrived at the island, Harry's eyes widened in awe, staring up at the towering green statue. He stood at the base, craning his neck to take in every detail of Lady Liberty. Tony and the others watched with smiles, clearly enjoying his wonder.

After a good amount of time exploring the island, they took the ferry back, Tony quickly gathered everyone back into the van. Their next stop was a small bookstore-turned-café, one of Bruce's favourite hideaway spots. It was cosy and tucked away from the bustling streets, a place that seemed to exude quiet comfort. They had a light lunch there, chatting over sandwiches and coffee before venturing back into the city. From there, the day unfolded with more sightseeing, hopping from one tourist hotspot to another.

By the time evening came, the van pulled up a block away from their final destination. As they walked down the street, Harry noticed a few people stealing glances at the group, whispering excitedly about seeing the famous Avengers in person. A couple of women paused, smiling warmly at the sight of Tony holding Harry’s hand as they walked side by side. It was a small, intimate moment in the chaos of New York, but it made Harry feel more secure than ever.

Finally, they arrived at an old Italian family restaurant. Tony grinned as soon as they stepped inside, the warm, familiar smell of garlic and fresh herbs filling the air.

“Anthony, it's good to see you again,” said a greying man behind the bar, his voice carrying a light Italian accent as he walked over to greet them.

Tony beamed. “Good to see you too, Roberto. How’s Maria doing?” He motioned for the team to follow him to the largest booth in the nearly empty restaurant.

Roberto’s face lit up. “She’s well, she’s busy helping Juliet with the new baby.” He handed out menus as he spoke, clearly delighted to see Tony.

“Juliet had another kid with Mark?” Tony asked, leaning back comfortably in his seat.

“Sí,” Roberto confirmed with a chuckle, turning to Harry. “And I see you also have a child now.”

Tony smiled and introduced them. “Harry, this is Roberto, an old family friend. Roberto, this is my son, Harry. It’s his birthday today.”

“Ah, so that’s why you asked for the special item,” Roberto said with a knowing look, his eyes twinkling.

“Exactly. It wouldn’t be a birthday without it.”

“Good, good. I’ll leave you and your friends to enjoy your evening.” Roberto gave them a nod before retreating to the back of the restaurant.

As the group settled in, Harry felt a warm sense of belonging wash over him. He joined in the conversations, laughing along with the others as they shared stories and joked around. There was something about this moment, surrounded by people who cared about him, that made him feel like he truly had a family. Sure, the Weasleys had treated him kindly, but this… this was different. He didn’t feel like an outsider here. He felt at home.

After a satisfying meal, Roberto reappeared, pushing a trolley towards the table with a large chocolate cake resting on it.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Roberto said warmly as he placed the cake down in front of him. “This was Tony’s favourite cake as a child, and my own kids love it too. My wife made it just for you. I hope you enjoy our famous chocolate cake, and that you’ll spend many more birthdays here with us.”

Harry gazed at the cake, his heart swelling with gratitude. It wasn’t just the cake or the presents, but the feeling of being surrounded by people who truly cared about him. As he looked around the table, at the faces of his new family, he couldn’t help but smile. This had been his best birthday yet, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future held.

Chapter Text

Minerva McGonagall sat in her familiar office, sunlight streaming through the high windows and casting soft, golden light over the scattered letters and parchments on her desk. It was a routine task, one she'd done countless times over the years, sorting through Hogwarts replies, ensuring everything was in order for the new school term. She found a certain comfort in this predictable ritual.

One by one, she scanned the letters, confirmations of returning students, new applications, and the occasional special request. A small frown tugged at her lips as she opened a particular envelope, noticing it wasn’t one of the usual ones she received. Her brow arched slightly when she read the first line. A withdrawal letter.

It was rare to receive one, especially so close to the start of term. Skimming the letter, she noted the parent’s concern over safety and the wish for their child to receive a better, safer education elsewhere. The signature at the bottom read, Dr Anthony Stark. The name barely rang a bell, and Minerva, assuming it was from the parent of a Muggle-born student, sighed softly. A shame, she thought. Hogwarts was a magical experience for all students, but sometimes parents from the Muggle world had different priorities, especially when they didn't fully grasp the world their child belonged to.

"Another overprotective parent," she murmured under her breath. With a casual flick of her wand, she slotted the letter into the withdrawal slot, not giving it much more thought. The letter vanished, whisking itself off to update the school registry, and as quickly as that, the student was removed from Hogwarts’ records. A pang of regret flickered in her chest, losing a student, any student, always left a subtle ache, but there was nothing more to do about it. She had other letters to review.

As she moved on to the next pile, she felt a small twinge of curiosity. She couldn’t recall a student named Stark, nor did the name appear on any of the class lists she had memorized over the years. Strange, but she dismissed the thought. After all, Hogwarts welcomed hundreds of students, and it wasn’t unusual for some to fly under the radar, especially Muggle-borns who might not have had as many ties to the magical community.

Her focus shifted to a more familiar name, Harry Potter. She sifted through the envelopes, a brief sense of concern creeping in. No letter from Harry yet, she thought, her frown deepening.

"It’s probably just his relatives again," she muttered. It wasn’t uncommon for Harry’s correspondence to be delayed or disrupted by the Dursleys. They never truly understood or appreciated the importance of his magical education. "No matter," she reassured herself, setting the thought aside. "He’ll show up when the term starts, as always."

She closed the folder of letters with a soft sigh, unaware that she had just made a decision that would shake the very foundation of the magical world. A moment that would, in time, come back to haunt her, and Hogwarts.

For now, though, Minerva returned to her work, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing just on the horizon.

~~~~~~

Harry’s birthday had come and gone, leaving the tower in an unusually quiet state. Steve, Clint, and Natasha had been called away for a mission the day after, and Bruce had disappeared into one of his scientific retreats. Tony, noticing the silence, seized the opportunity. It was the perfect time to sit down with Harry and go through the options for his magical education.

There were still a few subjects for which Tony hadn’t secured tutors, and the upcoming interviews were starting to weigh on his mind. The idea of lowering his standards had briefly crossed his thoughts, but the mere notion made him chuckle. A Stark never lowers their standards, especially not for something as important as education.

Tony entered the room with a dramatic flair, dropping a hefty stack of booklets on the table in front of Harry. Harry looked up from his breakfast, unimpressed at being interrupted mid-bite.

"Come on, kid. As soon as you’re done, we can dive into this together," Tony said, already starting to sort the booklets into subject categories.

Harry, in no rush, deliberately slowed his chewing, earning a pointed glare from his father. He took his time cleaning up, relishing every second Tony spent tapping his fingers impatiently.

"Such enthusiasm..." Tony remarked, eyes narrowed. "Come on, help your old man out. Did I just call myself old? Yes. Am I old? Absolutely not. Still a spring chicken."

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at Tony’s antics, finally giving in. "Alright, alright. What are my options looking like?"

Tony grinned. "There are quite a few subjects, and some tutors offer joint courses, combinations of related subjects, and others offer introductory subjects with a different focus later on. The larger piles are for the subjects taught by themselves, and the smaller piles are for all the others, like joint subjects. Some make sense and others don’t. For example, potions and herbology make sense together, but then there are odd combinations like History and Herbology. No real connection there, so that one’s out."

"Can I start looking through them?" Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Go for it. It's your education, after all. However, I'd like you to stick to the standard subjects as a base. There are some decent combinations in that pile over there," Tony pointed to a separate stack. "You might find something interesting."

The morning passed with Tony organizing while Harry sifted through the booklets, occasionally pausing to read in more detail. Tony kept a close eye on the choices Harry was making, casually asking if Harry was sure about certain selections. Half the time, Harry reconsidered, realizing his dad had a point. But Tony didn’t push too hard; it was important that Harry had control over his education.

By mid-afternoon, the pile of options had shrunk to a more manageable stack. The room was quiet except for the shuffling of papers and the occasional murmur as they discussed the subjects, each decision thoroughly weighed. Pros and cons were debated, and Tony, in his natural problem-solving mode, ensured they considered every angle: Was the subject manageable? Did it align with Harry’s interests? Was it challenging enough?

"Okay," Tony said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms. "So far, we’re looking at nine subjects. Let’s break it down."

Harry nodded, glancing over the notes they’d made. "Potions and Herbology. Makes sense, they complement each other."

Tony agreed. "Right. Then we’ve got Spellwork, which covers both Charms and Transfiguration. That’ll give you a solid foundation."

"And Magical Theory," Harry added, excited. "Later focusing on Runes, Arithmancy, Illusions, and Enchanting. I can't wait for that one."

"That should keep you busy," Tony said with a smile. "Then there’s Defense Against the Dark Arts, paired with the Dark Arts themselves. After all, you can’t defend against something you don’t understand."

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Makes sense. It’s better to be fully prepared."

Tony glanced at the next few selections. "Magical History, Law, Politics, and Customs.

You’ve got titles and responsibilities that come with them. This one’s important."

Harry sighed, less enthused by this subject, but understanding the necessity. "Yeah, I get it."

"And then there’s Foreign Magics and Cultures," Tony said, raising an eyebrow.

Harry grinned. "I always thought there was only one type of magic but, now that I know that there are more. I want to learn about them all."

Tony nodded approvingly. "I’m with you on that. Being a sponge for knowledge isn’t a bad thing."

Finally, they came to the last subject. Harry’s eyes lit up. "Care of Magical Creatures."

Tony chuckled. "You’ve been stubborn about that one, even though there’s no decent teacher available yet."

"Two weeks during the summer," Harry reminded him. "We can dedicate time to it.”

“I’ll see if the guy who wrote all the books-” Tony started.

“Newt Scamander,” Harry interrupted.

“Yes, I’ll see if he can be convinced to teach you over that time. I’ll see what I can do,” Tony rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m sure he won’t be able to resist a Stark-level offer."

They had finalized the subjects, but there was still the matter of creating a timetable, balancing Harry’s magical and regular studies. Tony sighed, already feeling the weight of the task, but quickly perked up. "We’ll leave that to Jarvis. He’s the expert at organizing chaos. I’ll also send out letters to all the different tutors tomorrow"

Harry smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. They had spent hours working through the options, and now, for the first time in a while, he felt a real excitement for the future. A new kind of learning was just on the horizon, and this time, it felt like he was in control.

As the sun began to set, Tony glanced over at his son, pride evident in his expression. "We make a good team, don’t we?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, we do."

~~~~~~

The week passed in a steady rhythm, and before Harry knew it, Friday had arrived. The days had blurred together in a mix of planning, discussions, and the faint hum of anticipation. Tony had successfully secured tutors for the remainder of Harry’s magical subjects, meeting with each one personally.

Except, of course, for Care of Magical Creatures. Newt Scamander still seemed like a distant possibility, but Tony was never one to give up. He had his ways of getting in touch with people, no matter how elusive they were, and he was confident he could convince the renowned magizoologist to teach Harry.

Clint had returned from his mission earlier in the week; however, Natasha and Steve were still away. Tony had a feeling their extended absence might have something to do with the lineage test they'd done for Harry. He hadn't asked for details; he trusted his team, but when he had spoken to Steve about the mission, there was a certain tension in the air when the subject came up. Harry seemed unaware, his focus was on learning new skills with Clint. The archer had taken it upon himself to teach Harry how to shoot with a bow and arrow, a skill that Harry was growing to enjoy.

Tony had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, he appreciated Clint's dedication to teaching Harry precision and discipline. Despite agreeing to only learning one new deadly skill a year. But on the other hand, Tony was building a non-lethal suit for his son, and the idea of Harry growing up into a mini-assassin wasn’t exactly part of Tony’s grand plan. He found himself watching from the sidelines, torn between pride at Harry’s natural talent and a faint unease at how quickly his son was picking up such dangerous skills.

By the time Friday arrived, Tony was focused on a different task, interviews. These weren’t for tutors, though. his was Stark Industries business. Tony had a new project in the works, one that could revolutionize how the magical world accessed and stored information.

They had started on it in London but his vision of creating a wizarding server, something that would act like a magical search engine, compiling centuries of old magical theory, spell research, and runic studies into one easily accessible database. It required someone who was well acquainted with both magic and technology. It was the kind of project that could break the magical world’s resistance to modern technology, and Tony needed the right minds to make it happen.

He’d expected more people to turn up for the job, but as the day wore on, he realized just how closed off the magical community was, even to opportunities that could propel them forward. Still, a handful of promising candidates had shown up, and Tony found himself in a series of back-to-back interviews, trying to gauge not only their technical skills but their openness to innovation.

One interview, in particular, stood out. A wizard named Jericho Drumm, who had moved from Africa to the U.S. to study psychology, intrigued Tony. Jericho had a deep knowledge of magical theory, but it was his forward-thinking approach that captured Tony's attention. He spoke of blending modern technology with ancient magical practices, a fusion that aligned perfectly with Tony’s vision. Jericho’s calm confidence and thoughtful responses made Tony feel like he was sitting across from someone who truly understood the potential of what they were building.

The interview wrapped up with a handshake, and Tony leaned back in his chair, feeling a rare sense of satisfaction. Jericho Drumm was the perfect addition to the project; a balance of knowledge and open-mindedness that was sorely lacking in the magical world. This wasn’t just about compiling old books. It was also about getting the information out there, for others to use.

How they would do this, was a big question though. As only people with magic should be able to use it. Nobody should just be able to stumble upon it. It might take a few years, but it would happen. Even if Tony and his team had access to it at first, it was a project that would eventually change the way magical information was shared and preserved for future generations. It was something Hogwarts had never quite managed, relying on dusty libraries and outdated practices.

As the afternoon wore on, Tony conducted a few more interviews, though none quite matched the spark he’d seen in Jericho. By the end of the day, Tony felt confident that the project was in good hands. Now, the real work could begin, digitizing the texts, and getting the magical community to buy into the idea. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Tony had never been one to shy away from a challenge.

While Tony spent the day neck-deep in interviews, Harry found himself in the training room with Clint, learning what Clint liked to call "the ways of the bow and arrow." Harry couldn't help but let his mind wander to all the possibilities, he was already imagining what kind of spells could be added to the arrows. Magical arrows could be useful in more ways than one. At least once he had learnt enough to make it happen. He grinned at the thought.

“Alright, kid,” Clint said, snapping him out of his daydreams. “We got the basics down yesterday. Today, we’re aiming to hit the target. Not just shoot.”

Harry pulled an arrow from the quiver, not entirely sure what to expect. As he nocked it, Clint stepped in, adjusting his grip, positioning his fingers a little more evenly. “Relax your shoulders. Trust your stance,” Clint said, with a patient ease that Harry appreciated.

When Clint gave him the okay, Harry exhaled, releasing the arrow. He followed its path as it sliced through the air and landed a good meter shy of the target. His heart sank in his chest, the familiar sting of disappointment creeping in.

Clint, noticing Harry’s fallen expression, was quick to step in. “Hey, don’t sweat it, kid. I couldn’t hit a target either when I first started. Just don’t tell your dad that,” Clint gave a conspiratorial wink, even though he was bending the truth. But Harry didn’t need to know that. “You’ll be hitting bullseyes in no time,” Clint added with a smirk.

Harry nodded, trying to push away his frustration. The next two shots came closer, and on his third try, the arrow finally hit the target. It wasn’t anywhere near the bullseye, it barely grazed the outer ring, but it didn’t matter. A rush of excitement flooded him.

“Uncle Clint, I hit the target!” Harry beamed, looking up at Clint with wide, triumphant eyes.

Clint chuckled, taken slightly off-guard by the “uncle” title but warmed by it all the same. “You sure did, kiddo. And with time, you’ll be hitting the bullseye every time.” He gave Harry a playful ruffle of the hair.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the training room, Harry growing steadily more comfortable with the bow in his hands. Each shot got a little better, his confidence building as Clint offered encouragement with every attempt. Harry wasn’t perfect, but he was learning, and, perhaps most importantly, he was having fun.

By the time Tony came down to call them up for dinner, the two were sweating but grinning like fools. Tony raised an eyebrow at their flushed faces. “Looks like someone’s been hard at work,” he teased, glancing at Harry’s bright expression.

“We have! I hit the target, Dad!” Harry declared, his pride evident in the excitement still buzzing around him.

Tony chuckled, impressed but not entirely surprised. “Well, that’s my kid.” He gestured for them to follow. “Come on, pizza’s upstairs, and we’re not waiting.”

The three of them made their way to the common area, where Bruce had already settled in, lazily flipping through one of his books. Pizza boxes were scattered across the table, and as the group dove in, the room filled with easy conversation. Bruce occasionally tossed in a wry comment, Clint recounted a particularly exaggerated story about one of his missions, and Harry, in between bites, eagerly joined in.

Tony, for the most part, sat quietly, watching the scene unfold before him. His team, his family. gathered around, relaxed, and laughing. And Harry, his son, is right in the middle of it all, happy and healthy. Tony’s heart swelled with a warmth he hadn’t expected, but there was a darker thought lurking just beneath the surface. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the shrapnel embedded in his chest. It was still there, a constant reminder of his fragility, and if he didn’t do something about it soon, he might not be around long enough to see Harry grow up.

It’s time, Tony thought to himself, his decision firming in his mind. He needed to get the surgery, whether through magical means or traditional. He wasn’t going to let his own stubbornness take him away from this, away from Harry.

Lost in thought, Tony barely registered Harry poking him in the ribs. “Dad?” Harry’s voice brought him back to the present. “You okay?”

Tony shook off the weight of his thoughts, forcing a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just thinking.”

Harry gave him a curious look but didn’t press further. Tony ruffled his hair, masking his anxiety with the casual gesture, before jumping back into the conversation around him as if he hadn’t been elsewhere a moment ago.

Later that night, as they all settled down in the lounge watching some TV shows, Harry couldn’t contain his excitement for the weekend. His dad had promised to take him to the beach, a first for Harry, and the boy had been buzzing about it for days. The prospect of spending time with Tony, doing something as normal and fun as a beach trip, was almost too good to be true.

“I’ve never been to the beach before,” Harry said, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. “What’s it like?”

Tony leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Well, you’re in for a treat. There’s sun, sand, waves... and if you’re lucky, ice cream. Afterwards, I’ve got a surprise lined up for you. It’ll be a day to remember.”

“What’s the surprise?” Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.

Tony grinned, tapping the side of his nose. “You’ll find out soon enough, kiddo. Just get some sleep, tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

“Alight!” Harry exclaimed, excited for tomorrow.

"How’s the archery coming along?" Tony asked, nodding toward the bow resting on the coffee table.

Harry shrugged, but there was a gleam in his eye. "Clint says I’m getting better. I like it."

"Of course you do," Tony said, ruffling Harry’s hair as he stood up. "Just remember, no assassinations unless absolutely necessary."

Harry grinned. "Got it, Dad."

As the evening stretched on, Harry’s excitement bubbled over. He couldn’t wait for the beach, the surprise, and whatever else his dad had planned. More than anything, though, he was just happy to spend time with his dad.

~~~~~~

Saturday morning arrived with Harry bounding onto his dad's bed, his excitement already in full swing. He was dressed in his swim shorts, grinning as he jumped right onto Tony, knocking the air out of him.

"Ugh!" Tony groaned, dramatically playing dead beneath the covers, arms flailing before falling limp. "A little warning next time, kiddo."

Harry laughed as Tony came to life again, sitting up and ruffling his son’s already wild hair. "Dad!" Harry groaned, trying to smooth the mess, only for Tony to keep tousling it every time he fixed it. With a sigh of playful defeat, Harry flopped backwards on the bed.

“When are we going to go?” Harry asked, the eagerness still in his voice.

Tony glanced at the clock and gave a half-hearted stretch. “After breakfast and once I’m ready.”

“Can’t we just go now?” Harry pleaded, looking up at his dad with hopeful eyes.

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “If we went now, you’d be the first to complain about being hungry the second we get there.” He raised an eyebrow as if daring Harry to deny it.

Harry huffed in mild frustration. “Fine, I’ll go eat breakfast,” he said, dragging himself off the bed and out of the room, but not without a playful glance over his shoulder.

As Harry disappeared into the kitchen, Tony found himself lingering in his bedroom for a moment. He smiled to himself, shaking his head. He couldn't believe how much had changed in just a short time,

how much he had missed. While the loss of the Potters had been a tragedy, Tony often thought about how it led him to this moment, to Harry. He didn’t regret his past, but he wished he had been there for his son sooner. Now, with Harry in his life, the idea of being a dad didn’t seem so impossible anymore. In fact, it was starting to feel like the best thing he’d ever done.

Once dressed, Tony headed downstairs. In the kitchen, Harry was already devouring a plate of bacon and eggs, clearly eager to get to the beach. A second plate was waiting for Tony on the counter, and he felt a swell of warmth at the small, ordinary gesture. It reminded him that this wasn’t just some fleeting moment. Harry was growing more comfortable here, more at home. And that’s all Tony wanted for him. A home, a family.

"Ready for the beach?" Tony asked, taking a bite of his breakfast.

Harry nodded vigorously, mouth full of food, a grin still plastered on his face. Tony couldn’t help but laugh.

After breakfast, they set off in Tony's Audi R8 Spyder, the top down, wind rushing through their hair. Tony hadn’t taken the car out in a while, but he figured Harry would appreciate the ride. He glanced over at his son in the passenger seat, Harry’s face was lit up with pure joy as they sped down the highway toward the beach. The drive wasn’t long, but it was enough for Tony to feel a sense of peace wash over him. Today was about Harry, about making memories, and being the dad he wanted to be.

When they arrived at a more private section of the beach, Harry could barely contain himself. The second Tony parked, Harry bolted out of the car, running toward the ocean with reckless excitement. Tony barely managed to grab the towels and sunscreen before chasing after him.

“Hey! Hold it right there, kid!” Tony called, rushing forward just in time to scoop Harry up and toss him over his shoulder, earning an exaggerated groan from his son.

“Dad!” Harry whined, squirming to get free.

“Not until you’re covered in sunblock, Mr. British Skin,” Tony said, plopping him back down in the sand. “Otherwise, I’ll be the one dealing with a sunburned kid.”

Harry crossed his arms but reluctantly took the sunscreen Tony handed him, applying it with little enthusiasm. Once finished, he looked like a ghost, thick layers of white sunblock covering his skin.

Tony snorted. “You missed a spot. Or... all of them,” he teased, earning a playful scowl from Harry.

“Alright, alright. You ready to swim?” Tony asked.

“Yup! Learned how before Hogwarts,” Harry said proudly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Good,” Tony nodded. “Just stay where I can see you, alright? I’ll join you in a minute, gotta set up first.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Harry beamed, before sprinting off toward the water, kicking up sand in his wake.

Tony shook his head, smiling as he watched Harry race toward the waves. He quickly set up the umbrella and towels, making sure his arc reactor was covered with a waterproof sheet just in case, and of course wearing a vest, he didn’t need pictures of his chest circulating in the media again. He glanced at the small robot, turned speaker, he’d brought with him, whispering to it, “J, keep an eye on the kid, will you?”

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis responded, his voice a calm reassurance.

With everything in place, Tony finally joined Harry in the water. They spent the next few hours splashing around, Harry trying to ride the waves, and occasionally attempting (unsuccessfully) to dunk his dad. Tony played along, laughing as he pretended to stumble, but Harry’s attempts barely moved him. He thought about how one day, Harry might be strong enough, he just hoped that day didn’t come too soon.

By midday, the sun was high in the sky, and they decided to dry off, sprawling out on their towels. Harry lay back, hands behind his head, while Tony sat up, looking over the water. He noticed some people nearby starting to point in their direction, whispering amongst themselves. His stomach twisted. He knew what this meant, the paparazzi were closing in.

“Time to go, kiddo,” Tony said, standing up.

Harry, noticing the sudden urgency, glanced around and quickly understood. They both packed up their things in a hurry, trying to stay ahead of the growing crowd. By the time they reached the car, a few vans had pulled up, camera crews spilling out, but Tony was already peeling out of the parking lot, leaving them behind.

They both burst out laughing as they sped away. The thrill of the escape added to the extra layer of fun to an already perfect day.

When they arrived back at the tower, an eagle was waiting for them on the balcony. Tony raised an eyebrow, taking the thick package the bird carried before it flew off. He glanced at it but decided to deal with it later. Right now, there was something more important at hand. He had a surprise for Harry.

“Why don’t you wash off all that seawater and get into something comfortable?” Tony said, popping his head into Harry’s room, catching him just as he was flopping onto his bed.

Harry glanced up, blinking tiredly. “Sure, Dad. What are we doing? Are we finally going on that ride you promised?” he asked, springing to his feet.

Tony gave him a mischievous grin, tapping the side of his nose. “You could say that,” he replied cryptically before heading to his own room.

When Tony came back downstairs, he found Harry waiting in the lounge, looking at him expectantly. “Come on, we’re headed to the lab,” he announced.

Harry followed, confusion crossing his face. “I thought we were going for a ride?”

“We are,” Tony said, that glimmer of excitement still in his eyes as they stepped into the elevator. Harry followed him down into the lab, curiosity starting to overshadow his confusion.

Tony led him over to one of the large glass cases that typically displayed his Iron Man suits, except, this time, the glass was darkened, hiding whatever was inside. Tony stopped in front of it, hands on his hips, turning to Harry with a look of pure, barely contained enthusiasm.

“Alright, kiddo, you ready for a ride you’ll never forget?” Tony’s grin widened, and Harry’s heart skipped with anticipation.

“Uh… yeah?” Harry replied, both confused and intrigued.

Tony clapped his hands together. “J, dim the lights!” The lab lights softened, adding a dramatic glow. “Drum roll, please.” Jarvis

obliged with a small drumroll sound, filling the silence with a sense of ceremony. Tony stepped forward; his eyes sparkling as he gestured grandly to the case.

“And now, for the grand reveal of one brand-new Iron Man suit, kid-sized and completely non-lethal!”

With a flourish, the tint in the glass faded, revealing a smaller Iron Man suit in gleaming red and gold, perfectly crafted to fit Harry. Harry’s jaw dropped as he took it in.

“Dad… you didn’t…” he whispered, awestruck.

“Oh, but I did, mini-me.” Tony couldn’t help but chuckle as Harry rushed forward, wrapping his arms around him. Tony returned the hug just as tightly, savouring the moment.

“Come on, kiddo,” he said, releasing him with a pat on the back, “let’s get you suited up, and I’ll show you the ropes. We’ll take it slow, but I’ll be right there if you need anything.”

Harry was practically bouncing with excitement as Tony helped him into the suit. It was a bit nerve-wracking, standing still as pieces of armour clicked into place around him, but he trusted his dad completely. Once suited up, Harry took a deep breath, feeling a surge of power and wonder as he flexed his hands, seeing them encased in sleek red metal. He felt like a superhero.

Tony suited up beside him, the familiar whir and click of his own armour coming to life filling the lab. He made a quick call to Jarvis

, who opened the hatch nearby, letting a warm breeze waft in, carrying the scent of the evening air.

“You ready to fly?” Tony asked, stepping beside him as the platform slid open to the sky. Harry nodded, his heart pounding, and they took off together, side by side, lifting into the air above the city.

At first, Harry’s movements were cautious, unsure of the controls, but Tony stayed close, guiding him with a steady voice, his words calming any hesitation Harry felt. Soon, Harry got the hang of it, finding it surprisingly intuitive. It was like being on a broom, only better. The power in the suit gave him an exhilarating sense of freedom.

They soared together, cruising at a comfortable speed. Far below, people stopped and pointed, watching Iron Man and his smaller companion streak across the sky. Tony watched with pride as Harry grew bolder, dipping and diving, his shouts of pure joy echoing in the night air.

Eventually, Tony picked up the pace, urging Harry to keep up, and the two raced through the sky, breaking through low-hanging clouds as the city lights shimmered below. They flew in companionable silence, each savouring the experience, but Harry’s laughter punctuated the quiet night, his joy filling Tony’s heart with a fierce, protective pride. He had given Harry something that night, something unforgettable.

As they circled back toward the tower, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city. Tony guided Harry back down, helping him navigate the descent and landing. By the time they touched down, Harry’s face was flushed with exhilaration, his eyes still wide with awe.

Stepping out of his suit, Harry looked up at Tony, his expression a mix of gratitude and joy. Tony reached over, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “So, how’d you like your first Iron Man flight?”

“That was… amazing, Dad,” Harry said, still breathless. “Thank you.”

They both headed back upstairs, feeling the weight of the day settle in as exhaustion crept up. When they finally reached the penthouse, they found Bruce waiting for them, leaning casually in the doorway with a small, knowing smile.

“Brucie-bear, what brings you to my humble abode?” Tony asked, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.

Bruce crossed his arms, his tone amused. “Oh, just checking in. Saw you two out there, figured you’d be in need of some dinner afterwards.”

Harry lay sprawled on one of the couches, still catching his breath, his face plastered with a wide, satisfied grin.

“You’re not jealous I didn’t make a suit for you, are you, Brucie-bear?” Tony teased.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, looking entirely unbothered. “I’m more than happy to keep my feet on the ground, thanks. Besides, the Hulk isn’t exactly suited for metal armour. But I am here to let you know I whipped up something in the common area; there’s food if you’re hungry.”

“Food sounds incredible,” Tony said, his stomach growling on cue. “Thanks, Bruce. We’ll be down in a bit, just need a minute to recover.”

Bruce chuckled, giving them a nod before he left. They lounged a while longer, the memory of the flight still fresh, the buzz of adrenaline finally starting to fade. Harry’s stomach growled loudly, making Tony laugh as they finally summoned the energy to get up and make their way downstairs.

In the common area, they found Bruce had indeed outdone himself, laying out a spread of pasta, salads, and homemade garlic bread. The four of them shared a relaxed meal, laughing and chatting until they were all too full to move.

When they finally made it back to their rooms that night, Harry could barely keep his eyes open, a sleepy smile on his face as he burrowed into his bed. Tony paused in the doorway, watching him for a moment, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Today had been a memory, one he hoped Harry would carry with him forever.

And, as he closed the door and headed to his own room, Tony knew that he would too.

Chapter Text

Tony woke in the pre-dawn hours, his body sluggish but his mind restless. Despite crashing hard the night before, his brain was already racing, the persistent itch of a looming problem refusing to let him rest. The shrapnel in his chest was no longer just a physical threat. It had become a shadow hanging over every moment, every plan, and every thought about the future with Harry. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. If he wanted to be there for his son, he needed to act now.

The tower was still and quiet, the soft hum of the building’s systems the only sound as Tony slipped into his office. He settled into his chair and began drafting emails, reaching out to every medical expert he could think of. He crafted his messages with uncharacteristic precision, balancing urgency with tact, knowing he was appealing to the best in their fields.

He didn’t stop there. Switching to parchment, Tony addressed letters to wizarding healers in New York. A list of magical professionals had been sent over by a trusted contact, and while he was sceptical of their methods, Tony had learned to take magic seriously, especially when it could save his life.

He had also reached out to Doctor Stephan Strange. Strange was the most renowned doctor he knew of and had met. The man exuded a kind of calm authority that Tony respected. He might be a neurosurgeon, but his mind was brilliant. If anyone could put together a team to handle a problem like this, it was Strange. With a sigh, Tony began typing a more personal email, laying out his situation with honesty and a touch of dry humour, hoping it would catch the man’s attention.

By the time the emails were sent and the letters stacked neatly on the counter, the first pale hints of daylight were creeping through the windows. Tony grabbed the pile, intending to take them out himself, but a familiar chirp stopped him in his tracks. Hedwig was perched on the kitchen counter, her amber eyes fixed on the stack like it was her personal mission.

Tony sighed, shaking his head. “You’re not going to let me do this myself, are you?”

The owl ruffled her feathers, her intent unmistakable.

“Alright, fine,” Tony said with a small laugh, scratching her head gently. “But this is a lot, girl. You’ll need to take a few trips.”

Dividing the letters into manageable bundles, he handed her the first batch. Hedwig took off with an almost smug chirp, leaving Tony alone in the kitchen.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, savouring the warmth as he carried it to the table where he’d left the package from a few days ago. The thick parcel sat there, an unassuming weight that promised answers he wasn’t sure he wanted.

“Alright, let’s see what secrets you’re hiding,” Tony muttered, tearing it open.

Inside were meticulously organized bank statements spanning from the year the Potters had died until the present. Tony settled in, expecting the task to be straightforward. He figured the accounts would show little activity beyond standard fees and interest. But as he flipped through the first few years, his confidence started to waver.

At first, everything seemed normal, just as he’d predicted. But in 2004, the year Harry turned four, something unusual caught his eye. An item had been removed, a single transaction for something called the Cloak of Invisibility. Tony frowned, his mind racing. That seemed like something important, but why had it been taken? And more importantly, by whom?

As he continued, more anomalies appeared. In 2005, a series of withdrawals began, all for books with peculiar titles: Ancient Magical Theory, Advanced Charms, and The Founders’ Legacy. The pattern continued into 2006, but by then, it wasn’t just items being removed. Money started vanishing from the account, small amounts at first, but the numbers grew steadily over the years.

Tony’s heart sank as a single name kept surfacing in connection with the transactions: Albus Dumbledore.

His grip on the papers tightened. Why was the Hogwarts headmaster taking things from the Potter’s vaults? Why did this man seem to pop up everywhere? Had this man been using Harry for his family’s wealth, but for… what? Tony’s jaw clenched as he stared at the evidence.
He pushed back from the table, running a hand through his hair. Questions swirled in his mind. Why had Dumbledore done this? Was it for Harry’s benefit, or was it something more sinister? He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the numbers didn’t lie.

Tony took a deep breath, steadying himself. There was no point in getting worked up without all the facts. He’d dig deeper, uncover everything, and confront this man.
But one thing was certain: Harry deserved the truth.

Just then, the flutter of wings drew his attention. Hedwig had returned, dropping the empty pouch from her first delivery and holding out a leg expectantly for the next batch.

Tony smiled faintly, grateful for the distraction. “Alright, girl. Round two?”

He attached the next bundle, before going back to reading the documents. He needed to go over it all to better understand what had happened.

Harry wandered into the kitchen, still groggy from sleep, to find his dad hunched over the counter, a stack of papers spread out before him. Tony’s brows were furrowed so deeply that Harry half-expected steam to start pouring out of his ears. His dad didn’t look up, his focus laser-sharp, but the tension in his shoulders was impossible to miss. Whatever had him so worked up, Harry was pretty sure it wasn’t about him.

Grabbing a bowl of cereal, Harry moved to the opposite end of the counter. He watched his dad for a moment, spoon halfway to his mouth, before deciding to break the silence.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” he asked between bites, his voice light but curious.

Tony didn’t respond. His eyes stayed glued to the papers, his hand occasionally drumming against the counter as though trying to work through a complicated equation.

“Dad?” Harry repeated, this time a little louder.

Tony blinked and glanced up as though coming out of a trance. When he saw Harry, his expression softened, and a small smile flickered across his face. “Hmm? What was that, kiddo?”

Harry set his bowl down, frowning slightly. “I asked what’s wrong?”

The question made Tony’s face darken again, the scowl from earlier returning in full force. He looked back down at the papers, took a deep breath, and finally met Harry’s eyes.

“Albus Dumbledore,” Tony said, his tone heavy with irritation.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What’s he done this time?”

Tony’s jaw tightened as he gestured to the papers. “Turns out he’s been taking money and other valuables from your vaults for years. Since 2006 for the money, and even earlier for other things.”

Harry blinked, stunned. He let his spoon clatter against his bowl as he processed the information. “Why would he do that?”

“No clue,” Tony replied, his voice sharper now, frustration bleeding through. “And from what I’m seeing, he hasn’t returned any of it; except for one item.”

Harry tilted his head, confused. “What kind of things has he taken?”

Tony flipped back to one of the pages and scanned the list, his expression growing grimmer with each item he read aloud. “An invisibility cloak, the Potter grimoire, the Peverell grimoire, and Lady Potter’s sword… just to name a few.”

Harry frowned, his brows knitting together. “I do have the cloak. He gave it to me in my first year at Christmas. But I’ve never even heard of the other things.”

Tony’s lips pressed into a thin line as he gave Harry a pointed look. “So, he returned one thing, out of countless others. That’s not exactly what I’d call reassuring.”

Harry raised his hands defensively, the spoon still in his mouth. “Hey, don’t look at me. I didn’t even know this stuff existed.”

Tony shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “This isn’t on you, kiddo. It’s on him. And trust me, I’m going to handle it.” He tapped the stack of papers for emphasis. “I’m sending a letter to the goblins at Gringotts. I want every single thing he’s taken returned; money, artifacts, everything. And I’ll be demanding interest on the money he’s stolen. If Dumbledore thought he could get away with this, he picked the wrong person to mess with.”

Harry gave a small, amused smile as he resumed eating. “You know more about money and legal stuff than I ever will, so… go nuts.”

Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re right, I do. But that’s going to change once we start your financial lessons.”

Harry groaned dramatically, but Tony ignored him, already consumed by the papers in front of him. For a moment, Harry stayed where he was, spoon idly circling his bowl as he watched his dad’s intense focus. It was oddly comforting seeing how much Tony cared about making things right. With a small smile tugging at his lips, Harry pushed his chair back and decided to leave his dad to his mission.

Heading toward the garage area, Harry searched for Clint, who had promised to wait until later in the morning for Harry to join him on his run. Sure enough, he spotted the archer jogging at an even pace, his movements steady and efficient.

“Clint!” Harry called out, waving as he approached.

The man slowed just enough to wave him over. “Hey, kid! Come on, you’re just in time for the last lap.”

Harry broke into a light jog, falling in step beside Clint without much effort. The man cast a curious glance at him, impressed by how easily the newly turned teenager kept up. Though Clint shortened the lap to keep it manageable for Harry, he was unaware of the boy’s Quidditch training and the endurance that came with it.

“You’ve got a good stride, kid,” Clint commented, his voice light but approving.

“Thanks, I’m used to other forms of sport more than running, but I like this,” Harry replied, his cheeks flushed but his energy steady.

They finished the lap at a comfortable pace, both breathing easily as they transitioned into a cooldown walk. It was a simple moment, but Harry enjoyed it, being able to connect with someone on the team who wasn’t his dad or treated him like a fragile kid.

“Alright,” Clint said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “Now that we’re warmed up, let’s hit the training room. I’ve got a few new tricks to show you.”

Harry grinned and followed Clint to the lower levels, excitement bubbling in his chest. Spending time with Clint always felt easy and fun, and it didn’t take long for them to slip into their usual rhythm in the training room. Clint guided Harry through a series of exercises, focusing on flexibility and precision, before they transitioned into archery practice.

Standing behind Harry, Clint adjusted his grip on the bow. “Remember, it’s not about pulling the string as hard as you can; it’s about control. The arrow doesn’t need brute force; it needs finesse.”

Harry nodded, his green eyes narrowing as he drew the bowstring back. With a calm exhale, he released, and the arrow soared through the air, embedding itself neatly in the outer ring of the target.

Clint gave a low whistle. “Not bad, kid. Keep that up, and you’ll be putting me to shame in no time.”

Harry grinned, his confidence growing. “Think I could compete with you one day?”

Clint smirked but kept his tone measured. “Maybe. You’ve got potential, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’ve got a long way to go, and Nat hasn’t even had her turn training you yet.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Nat? What’s she going to teach me?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Clint said with a chuckle, his expression teasing but fond. “Let’s just say she’s got her own unique set of skills. And if you survive her lessons, you might just earn your spot in the big leagues.”

The two continued their practice, laughter and encouragement filling the room. Clint couldn’t help but marvel at Harry’s natural aptitude, not just for archery but for taking everything in stride. There was a quiet determination in the kid that reminded Clint of himself at that age.

As they wrapped up, Clint leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “You did good today, Harry. If you stick with this, who knows? You might have a future as an archer.”

Harry’s smile widened. “Thanks, Clint. I’ll keep practising.”

“Good. Now, go grab some water and relax. You’ve earned it.”

As Harry headed for the water cooler, Clint watched him with a thoughtful expression. The kid had real talent, but more than that, he had heart. And that? That was what made all the difference.

While Harry was busy training with Clint, Tony finally finished going over the last of the bank statements. The weight of everything he had uncovered sat heavily on his shoulders, but his focus didn’t waver. Sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by papers and notes, he meticulously drafted a formal letter addressed to Gringotts. It outlined every discrepancy, every theft, and every item taken from Harry’s vaults. He wanted to ensure the Goblins had no room for misinterpretation when he confronted them.

After a final read-through, Tony leaned back in his chair, satisfied with the draft. He shuffled the pile neatly, thinking of the letters he’d written earlier in the morning. Reaching for them, he was surprised to find them missing; until his gaze landed on a small note left on the table:

Gave the rest of the letters to Hedwig :)
-Harry

Harry must have given them to Hedwig when he had headed to training with Clint. Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That kid and that owl,” he muttered. Hedwig was still out, so he placed the new letter in the pile to be sent when she returned.

Rubbing his temples, Tony decided to check his email, hoping for a reply from any of the medical experts or wizarding healers he’d reached out to earlier. His inbox, however, was empty of anything useful. The disappointment gnawed at him, so he turned to his usual solace, his lab.

“J, let me know when Hedwig gets back,” Tony said heading to his lab.

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis replied smoothly.

Once in his lab, Tony dove into the project that had been consuming most of his free time: a new upgrade for his suits. His mind raced with ideas as he fine-tuned the systems, trying to ensure the components didn’t fly toward him at speeds likely to break ribs, or worse more private areas. Time slipped away, his focus so sharp that he barely noticed the hours passing until Jarvis interrupted.

“Sir, Hedwig has returned.”

Tony glanced up from his work, a wrench still in his hand. He hesitated, torn between finishing the delicate calibration in front of him and dealing with the waiting letter. But with a final twist of the tool, he stepped back from the table and wiped his hands on a nearby rag.

“Good timing,” he muttered, heading upstairs. Hedwig waited patiently on her perch; her large amber eyes fixed on him as though she knew exactly what was going on. “You’re a lifesaver, you know that?” Tony said, stroking her feathers before attaching the letter to her leg. “Alright, girl. One more delivery, and then you get the rest of the day off.”

With a soft hoot, Hedwig took off, disappearing into the sky. Tony watched her for a moment, feeling a strange sense of relief.

Feeling lighter, Tony decided to check in on Clint and Harry. He found them wrapping up their training session in the gym, both sweaty but grinning. Clint was gesturing animatedly, likely sharing some kind of victory story, while Harry laughed, his face lit with genuine happiness.

“Alright, you two, enough fun. Let’s get some food,” Tony called out, interrupting their conversation.

“Lunch already? Time flies when you’re teaching the next Hawkeye,” Clint teased, nudging Harry with his elbow.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, kid, you need fuel if you’re going to survive Nat’s training someday.”

The three of them shared a casual lunch together, laughter and easy conversation filling the air. Tony couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride at how easily Harry was settling into this new life. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but moments like this made it feel like they were heading in the right direction.

Afterward, they each went their separate ways; Tony back to his lab, eager to finish his suit upgrade, and Harry retreating to his room. The boy had picked out a book during their trip to London and seemed intent on devouring it.

~~~~~

The next morning arrived in a whirlwind of activity. Tony had barely taken a sip of his coffee before the kitchen table was flooded with owls delivering letters. One particularly determined owl nearly knocked over his cereal bowl in its bid to land. Harry laughed from across the counter, watching as his dad tried to catch the avalanche of parchment before it became breakfast soup.

“Jarvis, any chance you can manage the mail before I lose my toast to incoming letters?” Tony grumbled, shifting a precariously balanced stack to the side.

“Noted, sir. I shall endeavour to redirect the next wave,” Jarvis replied dryly.

As Tony freed his StarkPad from beneath the heap, Jarvis chimed in with an update that made him pause mid-bite.

“Sir, you’ve received a reply from Dr Stephen Strange.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? That was fast.” He swiped to open the email, his curiosity overtaking his hunger.

The email was brief but thorough, written with the precision Tony expected from one of the most renowned neurosurgeons in the country.

Dr Stark,

Your case is interesting and unprecedented. While I have my suspicions about the cause of your injury, I respect the privacy of your situation and will refrain from speculation.

I have begun assembling a team of specialists and have already reached out to Dr Cecilia Reyes. I understand you’ve also contacted her; an excellent choice, as she’s someone I deeply trust when it comes to surgeries involving complex trauma wounds. Additionally, I am consulting with colleagues whose ongoing research may offer further insights and solutions.

I will remain in contact as we finalize plans for the procedure. The operation to remove the shrapnel around your heart should be feasible within the coming week.

With regards,
Stephen Strange, M.D.

Tony read the email twice, his lips twitching into a small, satisfied smile. “Well, looks like the good doctor’s on board,” he muttered.

“Dr Strange agreed to help?” Harry asked, his tone cautious but hopeful.

“Not just help; he’s building a dream team,” Tony said, scrolling through the message again. “He even mentioned Dr Reyes. Funny thing is, I reached out to her because she was listed as a magical healer. Didn’t realize she also has a solid reputation in non-magical circles.”

“That’s good, right? Having a mix of doctors and healers?” Harry asked, leaning forward, his cereal forgotten.

“It’s better than good. It’s exactly what I was hoping for,” Tony said, his voice tinged with relief. He set the StarkPad down, leaning back in his chair. For the first time in a long while, the idea of getting the shrapnel removed felt less like a far-off dream and more like a tangible plan.

Harry nodded, though his brow furrowed slightly. “So... this means the surgery is soon?”

“Probably within a week,” Tony confirmed. He watched as Harry’s expression shifted, a flicker of unease breaking through his usual composure.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Tony said, reaching across the table to ruffle Harry’s hair. “These are the best people for the job. They’ve got this.”

Harry smiled faintly, brushing his dad’s hand away. “I know. It’s just... it’s a big deal, you know? But I’m glad you’re doing it. You’re not going to be living with a magnet in your chest forever.”

Tony’s chest tightened at Harry’s words. He didn’t often stop to think about how his condition affected his son, but hearing the relief in Harry’s voice made it clear: this wasn’t just about him. It was about both of them, and the life they were building together.

“Yeah, kid,” Tony said softly. “Me too.”

For a moment, they sat in companionable silence. The letters and emails forgotten, they let the weight of the decision settle around them. It wasn’t just about removing the shrapnel, it was about the chance to finally move forward without the constant shadow of death hanging over them.

“Alright,” Tony said, standing and grabbing the empty cereal bowls. “Let’s get this day started. Big things ahead, kiddo.”

Harry grinned, the tension melting from his face. “Big things, huh? Sounds like every day with you.”

“You know it,” Tony quipped, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder.

The day unfolded quietly, with the hum of Tony’s workshop filling the tower like a steady heartbeat. He was immersed in fine-tuning his Iron Man armour, every movement precise and methodical. Harry sat nearby for a while, perched on a stool, watching his dad work with rapt attention.

“Kid, don’t you have a bow to fire or something?” Tony teased without looking up, the glow of his tools reflecting off his goggles.

Harry grinned. “Just waiting for Clint to finish his nap. He promised to show me a new trick today.”

“Clint teaching you tricks? That’s how bad habits start,” Tony muttered, though his tone was fond.

Harry laughed, sliding off the stool. “You sound like you’re scared we’ll out-prank you one day.”

“Scared? Me? Never. You two just better remember who invented half the tech in this place before you try anything funny,” Tony shot back, watching Harry leave with a smirk.

Once Harry was gone, Tony settled back into his rhythm. The occasional ping of an email interrupted him, and he paused his work intermittently to exchange messages with Dr Strange. Each update from the doctor brought a mix of relief and nerves, it was progress, but it also made the looming surgery feel more real.

He skimmed over an email from Pepper titled "We need to talk." “Yeah, not today, Pep,” he muttered, pushing it aside.

When his armour upgrades were done, Tony switched gears, diving into a few smaller projects. He tinkered with designs for household gadgets that could be modified for public use, thinking idly about patents and production. He lost track of time until Jarvis interrupted.

“Sir, Mr. Barton and Master Harry are heading out to acquire ice cream.”

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “Ice cream? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Indeed, sir. I believe this excursion will involve significantly more sugar than either of them needs.”

Tony could picture them already, Harry with his wide grin, and Clint with his devil-may-care attitude. The duo was trouble waiting to happen, and Tony was sure the city wasn’t ready for the combined chaos of an Avenger and a teenage wizard.

“Just what I need, two people who think hanging out in air vents is a legitimate pastime,” Tony muttered, though he couldn’t help but smile. He was grateful Harry had found a friend in Clint, despite their age difference.

As he put his tools away, Tony’s thoughts turned to Harry’s future. While it was good for the kid to bond with the team, he couldn’t ignore that Harry needed friends his own age. Enrolling him in a high school might be a good idea someday, though the thought of dealing with PTA meetings made Tony wince. One thing was certain: no way was he introducing Harry to the spoiled brats of his social circle. For now, he’d let the kid enjoy his childhood, especially since Harry still called Hermione every week. Those calls seemed to anchor him, reminding Tony that Harry hadn’t completely left his old world behind.

Later that evening, Tony decided to break from routine and make dinner. He rummaged through the kitchen, pulling out ingredients with the same precision he used in his lab. Memories of his mother flitted through his mind as he prepared a classic Italian dish, though he opted to leave out the wine.

As he worked, Tony couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He realized he’d never cooked for the rest of the team before. The image of their shocked faces made him smirk, especially Steve’s. The idea of Captain America, who probably thought Tony’s meals came pre-packaged, realizing he could cook was too good to pass up. Not that Steve was back from his mission yet.

“Well, Mom,” Tony murmured under his breath, stirring the sauce, “let’s see if I can still do you proud.”

The kitchen filled with the rich aroma of garlic and tomatoes as he worked, his mind momentarily free of shrapnel, surgeries, and scheming wizards. For tonight, at least, it was just a father, a son, and the promise of a good meal.

~~~~~

Meanwhile, in the shadowy corners of London’s backstreets, a large black dog darted through narrow alleys, his paws splashing through puddles left from an earlier rain. Sirius Black, in his animagus form, growled low in frustration as shouts and hurried footsteps echoed behind him.

The chase had been going on for ten relentless minutes, and Sirius cursed himself for staying too long in one place. He’d been staking out the house where Harry was supposed to live, only to find it lifeless.

When he first approached the property, it had been eerily quiet. A peek through the windows revealed rooms covered in white fabric sheets, like ghosts frozen mid-dance. Half the furniture was missing, and the air smelled faintly of dust and abandonment. Sirius had even risked sneaking inside under the cover of night, hoping for clues. What he found only deepened his confusion. The house wasn’t just empty. it felt discarded.

Where was Harry?

Driven by worry, Sirius had lingered longer than was safe, and his patience had come back to bite him. Some overly curious neighbour must have spotted the "stray" lurking about and called the RSPCA. Now here he was, sprinting through the streets, heart pounding as they closed in.

He darted around a corner and slipped into a narrow alley, flattening himself against the damp brick wall. His lungs heaved as he listened intently. The sound of footsteps grew faint as the pursuers rushed past, their shouts growing more distant.

For a brief moment, Sirius allowed himself to relax. He’d lost them.

Or so he thought.

A split second later, something heavy and coarse dropped onto him. Sirius thrashed instinctively, snarling as he realized a net had ensnared him. The weight of it pressed down, tangling around his legs and pinning him to the ground.

“Got ‘im!” a triumphant voice yelled.

Sirius froze, his breath coming in ragged bursts. A swirl of panic and fury churned in his mind. This was bad, really bad.

Oh, shit.

As the net tightened around him, Sirius’s mind raced. He couldn’t transform back, not here, not with all these people watching. But if they captured him, his chances of escaping unnoticed would vanish. He struggled, but the net held firm, and the approaching figures loomed closer.

For the first time in a long while, Sirius felt truly trapped.

Chapter Text

Sirius sat in suffocating darkness, cramped inside a cage barely large enough to turn around. The dull hum of a moving vehicle vibrated through the metal floor beneath him, but he had no clue where he was headed. The faint scents of industrial plastic, rust, and the occasional whiff of wet fur reached his nose.

An animal shelter, he guessed bitterly. That would be his destination.

He shifted uncomfortably, the bars pressing into his fur. Time had long ago lost meaning for Sirius, especially during his years in Azkaban. The unbroken darkness, the confined space, it all felt suffocatingly familiar, stirring echoes of memories he’d rather forget about that horrid place.

The vehicle slowed abruptly, and a wave of magic rippled through the air. Sirius’s ears perked up, his heart lurching. This wasn’t ordinary. Someone used magic...

Panic surged. His mind raced to the worst possibilities. Had they found me? Were Aurors waiting to drag me back to Azkaban?

The van jolted to a stop, and Sirius tensed, muscles coiling like a spring. The door creaked open, and bright light poured into the space, momentarily blinding him. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the sudden glare.

A bubbly voice broke the silence. “You weren’t lying when you said you had a big dog in the back of the van!” A short, overly cheerful woman appeared, peering into his cage.

“The thing’s filthy,” grumbled the man who’d captured him, shaking his head in disbelief. “Needs a bath, maybe three. I’ve never caught such a dirty mutt before.”

I’m not a mutt, Sirius thought indignantly, curling further into the corner of the cage. But the mention of a bath set his nerves on edge. He’d endured a lot in life, but being forcibly scrubbed like a common stray felt like a low blow.

And yet, there was no escape.

Half an hour later, water dripped from Sirius’s soaked fur, pooling around his paws as he endured yet another scrub. The first bath had turned the water a muddy brown, and the second wasn’t much better. Now, finally, the water ran mostly clear.

"You're a whole different colour under all that grime!" the preppy woman chirped, wielding a hairdryer like a weapon. Sirius gave a low growl, but it was half-hearted. His muscles ached from resisting, and his pride was already thoroughly battered.

As she reached for another towel, a commotion echoed from outside the bathing area. Sirius’s ears twitched as hurried footsteps approached.

“Mr. Scamander! You can’t just walk in here!”

The door burst open, revealing an older man with a mop of unruly hair, a long coat, and a warm, curious smile. Behind him, a flustered shelter worker tried unsuccessfully to block his path. Sirius froze.

He recognized that face instantly.

Newt Scamander.

The famed magizoologist stepped closer, his sharp eyes scanning Sirius with a mixture of awe and fascination.

“My word,” Newt murmured, tilting his head as though inspecting a rare gem. “I haven’t seen a Grim in years.”

“A Grim?” the preppy woman asked nervously, stepping back. The other workers exchanged uneasy glances.

“Oh, yes,” Newt said conversationally, pulling out his wand. “A Grim is a rather misunderstood magical creature. Folk tales describe them as omens of death, but they’re quite extraordinary, really.”

The staff shifted uncomfortably, clearly unnerved by the revelation. Sirius suppressed a snort of amusement. If they only knew.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Newt continued, his tone polite but firm.

He waved his wand in a complex, fluid motion that Sirius didn’t recognize. A faint mist enveloped the room, and the shelter workers’ eyes glazed over, their expressions going blank. Loose pieces of paper began to lift into the air, dissolving into dust before disappearing entirely.

Sirius felt his body rise, magic tugging him gently upward. Water drained from his fur in an instant, leaving him dry but comically fluffy. He flailed slightly, caught off guard by the sensation of floating.

Newt placed a battered leather case on the floor and flipped it open. The lid expanded, revealing the enchanted interior, a vast space teeming with magical creatures. Sirius caught glimpses of vibrant feathers, shimmering scales, and curious eyes peeking out from various corners.

Before he could process what was happening, Sirius was floated down into a separate compartment within the case. The moment he landed on the soft surface of the compartment, the levitation spell was cancelled, and he found himself on solid ground.

Sirius shook himself, his fur settling as he tried to take stock of his situation.                                                                                                    

~~~~~

Sirius wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in the magical menagerie, surrounded by the sounds of rustling feathers, soft growls, and the occasional chirping from the other creatures Newt Scamander kept in his enchanted case. The air was warm, tinged with earthy scents and the faint hum of magical wards. Time blurred, much as it had during his years in Azkaban.

Then, the familiar sound of footsteps drew his attention.

Newt Scamander appeared again, emerging from what looked like a small shed within the case. His coat was slightly dusted with sawdust, and in one hand, he carried a sturdy bucket filled with a mysterious shimmering substance.

“Well, well,” Newt murmured, setting the bucket down. He crouched to meet Sirius’s eyes, his sharp, discerning gaze piercing through the guise of his canine form. “What’s a Grim like you doing in London? Last I checked, your kind were safely settled in a magical preserve in Northern Scandinavia.”

Sirius tilted his head instinctively, the motion more dog-like than human, as confusion bubbled within him. A preserve? There are magical preserves for animals like my animagus form? It was news to him, but not entirely surprising.

Newt frowned slightly, studying Sirius with an intensity that made his fur bristle. After a moment, he slid his wand from its holster in a fluid, practised motion.

“Unless,” Newt said slowly, his voice tinged with suspicion, “you’re not actually a Grim.”

Before Sirius could react, a flash of brilliant blue light burst from Newt’s wand, engulfing him in an all-too-familiar sensation. His body twisted and stretched painfully, forcing him out of his canine form and back into his human shape.

Sirius collapsed onto the ground with a grunt, his limbs trembling from the effort of maintaining his animagus form for so long. His breathing was ragged, and his bones ached with a dull, throbbing pain.

Newt’s expression didn’t falter. With a sharp flick of his wand, golden cords materialized, wrapping around Sirius and lifting him into the air like a puppet on invisible strings. He dangled upside down, his unkempt hair falling in his face.

“Now,” Newt said calmly, his wand steady, “what’s a wanted criminal doing skulking around the streets of London in his animagus form?”

Sirius’s heart sank, and he raised his head as best as he could, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Please… let me explain.”

Newt didn’t lower his wand. “Who’s to say anything you speak is the truth?”

“Veritaserum,” Sirius croaked, struggling against the binds instinctively before forcing himself to still. “You can use Veritaserum if you don’t believe me. But I need someone to know the truth.”

Newt regarded him in silence, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the man before him. Sirius met his gaze steadily, willing the magizoologist to see the sincerity in his plea. His grey eyes, haunted and weary, carried the weight of years spent wrongfully condemned.

Finally, Newt sighed, the faintest flicker of something, pity, perhaps, crossing his face. He lowered his wand, and the golden bindings vanished. Sirius dropped to the ground with a thud, groaning softly as he rubbed his wrists.

But Newt wasn’t done yet. He flicked his wand again, and the enclosure around Sirius shimmered, sealing him inside with an invisible barrier.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Sirius Black,” Newt said quietly, his tone measured and firm. “But until I have Veritaserum and can confirm your story, you stay here. I don’t take risks with my creatures, or my life.”

Without waiting for a reply, Newt turned on his heel, disappearing into the labyrinthine corridors of his case. The sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, leaving Sirius alone once more.

The silence felt heavier now, though. Sirius sat on the soft ground, rubbing his sore wrists and staring at the shimmering barrier that separated him from the rest of the world.

For the first time in a long time, he felt a glimmer of hope. Someone was finally going to hear him out.

~~~~~~

The rest of the week passed smoothly, and the weekend brought a welcome sense of calm. Harry had one more week before his classes began, and he and Tony had spent the last few days finalizing his timetable. They decided on a rotation: one week dedicated to magical studies, the next to regular academics. It was a balance Harry found exciting, though daunting, as he looked forward to diving into new knowledge.

Still, a shadow lingered over his excitement. Steve and Natasha had been gone for nearly two weeks on a mission, far longer than Harry had grown used to. Clint’s missions rarely lasted more than a week, and Natasha’s typically followed the same pattern.

“They’ll be fine, kid,” Tony reassured him over breakfast one morning, noticing Harry’s furrowed brow as he absently stirred his cereal. “If there are two people you don’t need to worry about, it’s Steve and Natasha. Trust me, they’re basically indestructible.”

Harry nodded, trying to take comfort in his dad’s words. But no matter how much faith Tony had in them, Harry couldn’t shake the gnawing unease. Something about the radio silence felt... off.

When Sunday rolled around, his anxiety eased, at least temporarily. The sound of the elevator chiming and heavy boots echoing through the tower signalled their return. Harry hurried to greet them, his relief palpable when he saw both Steve and Natasha walk in, seemingly unharmed.

But their faces told another story.

Steve’s usual calm, confident expression was shadowed by a weight he couldn’t hide, while Natasha’s sharp gaze seemed distant, her posture unusually stiff. Harry hesitated, hovering near the edge of the room. He wanted to ask them what had happened, but the unspoken rule hung heavy in the air: they didn’t share mission details, especially not with him.

“Welcome back,” he said quietly instead, hoping his smile didn’t betray his lingering worry.

“Thanks, kid,” Steve replied, his voice steady but softer than usual. Natasha simply gave a small nod before excusing herself, heading toward her room.

Harry watched them disappear down the hall, his unease returning.

Later that evening, Steve reappeared, freshly showered but still carrying the same heavy expression. Harry sat in the living room, flipping aimlessly through a book, when Steve approached Tony, who had just returned from the lab.

“Tony,” Steve said, his tone low and serious, “can we talk? In private?”

Tony raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Sure. Come with me.”

Harry’s curiosity burned, but he knew better than to follow. As they walked away, the tension between them seemed almost tangible, and Harry’s mind raced with possibilities.

He tried to return his focus to his book, but it was no use. Whatever news Steve had, it was big enough to make even him and Natasha look rattled. Harry could only hope it wasn’t as bad as he feared.

“What’s up, Capsicle?” Tony quipped, leaning casually against the workspace of an unused lab in the tower. His usual smirk softened when he caught the troubled look on Steve’s face.

Steve stood rigid by the door, as though stepping further into the room might make his burden heavier. “Tony, I’m not sure how to say this,” he began, his voice low and hesitant.

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Oh, this is something serious then?”

Steve gave a brief nod, and Tony immediately straightened, all traces of humour gone. “Okay. Start from the beginning.”

Steve took a steadying breath. “We were following a lead, but it turned into something else. When we dug deeper... it wasn’t what we were expecting.”

“Steve, just spit it out. Leave the cryptic act to Natasha.” Tony crossed his arms, the concern in his voice sharper now.

Steve glanced down, as if gathering his words from the floor. “We found a lead on Bucky,” he said finally. “While investigating Hydra’s remnants. We... we identified him in some footage. The Winter Soldier... is Bucky.”

Tony’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. “What else did you find?”

Steve hesitated, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Whatever he was about to say next was clearly tearing him apart. “The Winter Soldier...” He faltered, then forced himself to look Tony in the eye. “He killed your parents.”

The words landed like a bomb, the weight of them reverberating in the silence that followed. Tony froze, his face a mask of controlled stillness, but Steve pushed on, his voice strained.

“I saw the video, Tony. It’s... it’s all there. I don’t know why Hydra recorded it, but they did. Natasha saw it too.” He took a shaky breath, his composure unravelling. “Tony, I know Bucky would never do something like this willingly. Hydra must’ve brainwashed him, turned him into a weapon. I thought Hydra was gone, but they’re still out there. They’re still experimenting, still—”

“Steve, take a breath,” Tony interrupted, his voice unnervingly calm.

Steve blinked, startled by Tony’s reaction, or lack of one. “Tony... your parents didn’t die in a car accident. They were murdered.”

“I know, Steve. I heard you the first time.”

“Then why aren’t you angry?” Steve asked, his voice breaking with confusion and guilt.

Tony tilted his head, his gaze steady. “Do you want me to be angry? Because I can be.”

“No! I just…” Steve ran a hand through his hair, his composure fraying further. “I just thought you’d be. I mean, this is huge, Tony.”

Tony sighed deeply, stepping closer and placing a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Look, I’m shocked. Trust me, my brain’s spinning faster than the centrifuge in my lab right now. But you, Steve, your best friend, the guy you thought was dead, turns out to be alive. And now you’ve found out he’s been brainwashed into becoming a weapon for Hydra? That’s a lot to handle.”

“I don’t know where he is, Tony,” Steve said, his voice breaking. “I don’t even know what kind of state he’s in, or if we can help him.”

“Hey.” Tony’s tone softened as he squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. Remember, we’ve got the goblins working on locating him. They’ll find him, and when they do, we’ll deal with it together. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Steve looked at Tony, his usual stoic façade cracking. “Thank you,” he said quietly, genuine gratitude shining through the pain.

Tony gave him a small nod. “Now come on, Cap. The kid’s been worrying his arse off about you and Natasha. Let’s go show him you’re alive and well. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Steve hesitated for a moment but finally nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself. As Tony left the room, Steve lingered, collecting his thoughts.

When Tony entered the common area, the lively hum of conversation and laughter greeted him. Clint and Natasha had broken out the beers, Bruce was sitting with Harry as the two sipped apple juice, and the coffee table was laden with pizza boxes.

Tony leaned against the doorframe for a moment, a rare smile tugging at his lips. Harry was smiling again, visibly more relaxed now that everyone was back. The kid deserved to have some fun without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Grabbing a slice of pizza, Tony made a silent vow to protect this strange, mismatched family of his, no matter what Hydra, the Winter Soldier, or anyone else threw their way.

Chapter Text

Sirius lay on the soft grass, his bare skin brushing against the lush blades as he stared up at the enchanted sky. Though the space was magically created, it felt more real and freeing than anything he’d experienced in the last twelve years. The faint rustle of an artificial breeze and the warmth of the sunlight were enough to ease some of the tension from his aching body. For the first time in over a decade, he felt... almost human.

How long he lay there, he didn’t know. Time seemed to stand still, and Sirius allowed himself to savour the simple pleasures he’d been denied for so long.

When Newt Scamander returned, a small bottle of Veritaserum tucked securely in his hand, he paused at the edge of the clearing. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight of Sirius sprawled across the grass, his posture oddly peaceful for a man accused of mass murder.

“Enjoying yourself?” Newt asked cautiously, slipping his wand into his other hand as he approached. His tone was light, but his guard was up.

Sirius sat up, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Best I’ve felt in years,” he admitted. “Not much grass in Azkaban.”

“Are you ready to be questioned?” Newt asked, holding up the vial of Veritaserum.

Sirius’s grin faded, replaced by a sombre resolve. “If it means someone finally knows the truth? Absolutely.”

Newt handed him the vial. “Three drops,” he instructed.

Sirius ignored the warning and tipped back more than three. Newt raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He simply stood back, watching as Sirius’s eyes glazed over, his body relaxing as the potion took hold.

“What is your name?” Newt began, his voice calm and steady.

“Sirius Orion Black,” came the automatic reply.

“What year were you born?”

“1976.”

“Are you a Death Eater?”

“NO! Never!” Sirius’s voice was sharp, but the potion restricted any dramatic outburst.

“Did you ever follow, serve, or agree with Voldemort?”

“No. Moldyshorts can suck it.”

Newt’s lips twitched despite himself. The Veritaserum often brought out the truth in uniquely colourful ways. “Did you betray James and Lily Potter to Voldemort?”

Sirius’s expression twisted in anguish. “No. Jamie was like a brother to me... but that sneaky rat did!”

Newt leaned forward, his interest piqued. “What happened, then? How did Voldemort find them?”

“I was supposed to be their Secret Keeper,” Sirius said, his voice thick with regret. “But I thought it was too obvious. So, I convinced them to use the rat, Peter. Who knew that little coward would run straight to Voldemort and tell him where James, Lily, and Harry were?”

Newt could see the frustration bubbling beneath Sirius’s calm exterior, suppressed by the potion’s effects.

“And after that?”

“I got to their house too late. James and Lily were dead. Harry was crying in his crib. Hagrid showed up before I could even think about what to do. Said Dumbledore ordered him to take Harry. Once Harry was out of my arms, all I could think about was revenge. I tracked Peter down to a crowded street... but he was too fast. He framed me. Blew up the street, killed all those people, cut off his own finger, and escaped as a rat.”

“Why didn’t you defend yourself in court?”

“I never had a trial.” Sirius’s tone was blunt, the bitterness evident even through the Veritaserum.

Newt frowned. “So why escape now, after all this time?”

Sirius’s glazed eyes brightened slightly with determination. “I saw him. In the Prophet. Living with the Weasley family like some pampered pet. That rat’s been living free while I rotted away in Azkaban.”

“As far as I know, the Weasleys don’t live near where you were captured,” Newt said, his brow furrowing.

“I went to their house first,” Sirius admitted, “but there were too many wards for me to go unnoticed. I heard the Wasley twins talking about where Harry lived. With his magic-hating Aunt of all people. He wasn’t with his aunt and uncle, but their stuff was still there. The neighbours spotted me, though, and I had to run before I could figure out where he was.”

Sirius fell silent after that, the potion rendering him incapable of elaborating further without being prompted. Newt stood quietly, processing everything he’d just heard. The story made sense, or at least, it was consistent. Still, Newt couldn’t ignore the telltale signs of long-term exposure to Dementors. Sirius might be telling the truth, but his mind was undoubtedly damaged.

Finally, Newt spoke, his tone decisive. “I’ll help you,” he said.

Sirius blinked, his focus sharpening as the Veritaserum began to wear off. “You will?”

“Yes. You clearly need someone on your side,” Newt said firmly. “You can stay with me for now. I have a larger enclosure, far more comfortable than this bag, and I could use some extra help. In return, we’ll work on a plan to catch Pettigrew and clear your name.”

Sirius’s expression softened, disbelief and gratitude warring in his eyes. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

Newt offered him a small, genuine smile. “Everyone deserves someone to believe in them. Now, let’s get you back on your feet.”

He handed Sirius the antidote to the potion and helped him stand. As Sirius stretched, a faint glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes. For the first time in years, he felt like his luck might be changing.

~~~~~

Despite the gravity of the news Steve and Natasha had brought back, Tony had shelved any immediate action. The impending surgery demanded his full focus, and he knew better than to split his attention when his life, and the stability of his arc reactor, was on the line. The team of experts assembled for the procedure reassured him. Dr Strange, with his unparalleled precision, would lead a crew of top-tier surgeons and a few discreet magical healers posing as mundane doctors. If anyone could pull this off, it was them.

Tony, for his part, wasn’t worried. Surgery didn’t faze him, it was just another problem to solve. But that confidence didn’t extend to everyone else. Harry, in particular, had been on edge all week, his concern as obvious as the Gryffindor crest on his hand-me-down sweater. Even the Avengers, who usually masked their worries well, seemed uneasy.

Now, in the sterile calm of the VIP hospital suite, Tony sat on the pre-op bed, already dressed in hospital robes. He fiddled with the edge of his gown, the faint hum of medical monitors filling the room. Harry sat cross-legged on the bed beside him, shuffling a deck of cards with a concentration that brought a proud smirk to Tony’s face.

“You sure you’re up for this, kiddo?” Tony teased as Harry dealt the cards. “Poker’s not for the faint of heart. High stakes, endless mind games... It’s war.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. “You said it’s a game of strategy, Dad. And I’m great at strategy.”

Tony chuckled, taking his cards and organizing his hand. “Oh, you are, are you? Guess we’ll see. But remember, no mercy. Life lesson number one: nobody’s going to give you an easy win.”

“Is this really the best time to teach him gambling?” Steve’s voice interrupted from across the room, his disapproving gaze fixed firmly on Tony. Arms crossed and leaning against the wall, Captain America looked every bit the scolding parent Tony liked to pretend he wasn’t.

Tony shot him a grin. “Relax, Capsicle. It’s math and psychology, very educational. Besides, I’ve already vetoed Exploding Snap for today. You should be thanking me.”

“Exploding what now?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing.

Harry laughed. “It’s a wizard card game, but Dad said it’s not hospital-appropriate.”

“I’d rather not have to explain to Strange why there are singed cards and mini explosions all over the surgical suite,” Tony said, pretending to shudder. “Besides, poker teaches valuable life skills. Bluffing, reading people, misdirection...”

Steve sighed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Tony quipped, tossing a poker chip at him.

Despite the banter, the tension in the room was palpable. Every now and then, Harry’s playful smile would falter, and his eyes would dart to the medical equipment like he was bracing for something to go wrong. Tony noticed but didn’t comment. Instead, he reached over and ruffled Harry’s hair, earning a half-hearted “Daaaad” in protest.

“It’s going to be fine,” Tony said softly, his voice losing some of its usual bravado. “I’ve got the best people working on me. And after this? I’ll be around for a long time to keep teaching you all the ways to annoy Steve.”

That earned a chuckle from Harry and a faint smile from Steve, though the latter quickly masked it with a grumble about bad influences.

As they played, the room gradually filled with other familiar faces,

Natasha leaning against the doorway with her usual calm presence, Clint juggling an apple as if it were a weapon, and Bruce thumbing through a medical journal in the corner. Each of them had their own way of hiding their concern, but Tony knew them well enough to see through it.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy with unspoken tension. Pepper had stopped by earlier, offering a few words of encouragement before slipping out again. She’d wished Tony luck with the operation and expressed relief that he was finally taking care of himself, but her visit had been brief and distant.

Tony had watched her go with a pang of regret. Their romantic relationship had ended amicably months ago, but he still hoped she’d come around. She was one of the few people he truly trusted, and he missed the easy camaraderie they used to share. He resolved to reach out to Rhodey once he recovered; if anyone could help him navigate this emotional minefield, it was his best friend.

For now, though, Tony focused on his game of poker with Harry. He kept the mood light, cracking jokes and gently teasing his son as they played. It was his way of easing Harry’s nerves, even as the boy’s worry lingered just beneath the surface.

Their game was interrupted by the soft hiss of the door sliding open. In stepped Stephen Strange, flanked by a team of surgeons. The medical staff hesitated, their eyes going wide at the unexpected sight of the Avengers scattered around the room. Strange, however, didn’t miss a beat, his expression quickly neutralizing into professional detachment.

“All right, Stark,” Strange said, scanning the room. “You’ve got a fan club, I see.”

Tony smirked. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

Strange rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “We’ll do one final check on your vitals before taking you into the theatre.” Strange said, his voice calm and authoritative.
Tony nodded, waving off the worried glances from the others as the doctors busied themselves with monitors and scans. Harry stood close by, clutching the deck of cards in his hands like a lifeline.

When the preparations were complete, the doctors wheeled Tony’s bed toward the door. He glanced back at Harry and the others, his trademark smirk firmly in place. “Don’t get too comfortable without me. And no cheating at poker, kiddo.”

Harry managed a small smile, but his grip on the cards tightened. “You’ll be okay, right?”

“Better than okay,” Tony replied, his tone light. “I’ll be back to kick your butt at cards in no time.”

Strange smiled turning to Harry, he softened his tone. “We’ll take good care of him, I promise.”

Harry nodded, his grip tightening on the deck of cards. “You better,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Tony leaned down and ruffled his son’s hair one last time. “Hey, none of that. I’ll be back before you know it. Just keep practising your poker face. You’ll need it when I wake up and take all your pocket money.”

Harry managed a weak smile, and Tony gave him a reassuring wink before letting the team wheel him out. As the doors closed behind him, the remaining Avengers settled into the room to wait. The operation would take several hours, and they all braced themselves for the long haul.

Harry, too restless to sit still, dug out a handheld game console that Tony had customized for him. It was loaded with games from every major company, a clear testament to Tony’s knack for bending the rules, legal or otherwise. Harry’s fingers moved over the controls with practised ease, but his mind was elsewhere.

Time crawled by, each minute stretching into an eternity. Steve paced the room, his usual stoicism faltering under the weight of his concern. Natasha remained seated, her expression unreadable, but Clint could see the subtle tension in her posture. Even he wasn’t immune, his leg bounced anxiously, the nervous energy building with each passing hour.

Harry was the most unsettled of them all. His thoughts raced, conjuring worst-case scenarios faster than he could push them away. His dad had promised him everything would be fine, and Harry desperately wanted to believe that. But life had taught him to expect the worst, and his luck rarely proved otherwise.

Still, as he glanced around the room, Harry felt a flicker of comfort. Just a few months ago, he wouldn’t have believed he could be part of a family like this. At the end of his second year at Hogwarts, he’d assumed he would always be an outsider, grateful for the Weasleys’ kindness but never truly belonging.

Now, though, things were different. He had a father who loved him, not just in name but in action. And the Avengers, with all their quirks and complexities, had become his extended family. It wasn’t perfect, but they’d made it work. They’d chosen to be a family, and that choice made all the difference.

Harry clutched the console tighter, the game momentarily forgotten. He couldn’t lose his dad, not now, not when he’d just found him. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to focus on the bright screen in front of him. Tony was in the hands of the best, and Harry had to trust that was enough.

A collective sigh of relief filled the room as Dr Strange stepped through the door, his expression calm but reassuring. “The surgery was a success,” he announced, his voice steady. “Minimal complications. Tony handled it like a champ. We’ll be bringing him back shortly; he’s still under anaesthesia but should wake soon.”

The tension that had gripped everyone finally began to ease, replaced by quiet murmurs of gratitude. Harry sank back into his chair, the handheld console forgotten in his lap, his shoulders sagging with visible relief. Steve clapped a hand on Clint’s shoulder, and even Natasha allowed herself a small, fleeting smile.

True to Strange’s word, Tony was wheeled back into the room not long after, looking pale but stable. Harry immediately moved to his father’s side, gripping his hand tightly. Though Tony remained unconscious.

The next two days passed in a blur of enforced rest for Tony, much to his dismay. Despite his protests, the medical team insisted on keeping him under observation at the hospital, monitoring his recovery with meticulous care. Harry stayed by his side as much as possible, keeping him entertained with stories and magic tricks he’d been practising.

By the time Tony was cleared to return to the tower, he was already scheming ways to escape further bed rest. Unfortunately for him, Steve was adamant about following the doctors’ orders.

Back in the safety of the tower, Dr Reyes offered to fully restore Tony using her abilities. Reluctantly, Tony agreed, and in less than an hour, he was back on his feet, moving as though the surgery had never happened.

Those unaware of the magical intervention were less convinced. Several staff members in the tower kept throwing concerned glances his way, murmuring their doubts about whether he should be walking around. Steve, ever the steady voice of reason, assured them that Tony was fine, and eventually, they relented.

For Tony, the real relief wasn’t in walking again but in being home with his son. “No offence to Strange,” he quipped to Harry that evening, “but I’d much rather spend my weekend here than in a hospital bed being poked and prodded.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, I can’t blame you. Hospital food isn’t great, either.”

They spent the weekend together, alternating between playing games and tinkering in the workshop. Tony’s mood soured briefly when Harry sheepishly admitted to accidentally frying the game console Tony had made him at some point when Tony had woken up at the hospital.

“Magic and tech don’t mix well, huh?” Tony said with a chuckle, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Guess I’ve got another project on my hands.”

~~~~~~

Saturday found the two Starks tucked away in one of Tony’s labs, surrounded by an assortment of tools, magical artefacts, and half-finished prototypes. They’d been working on what Harry had dubbed “magi-tech,” a blend of magic and technology. So far, their experiments hadn’t yielded much success, but Tony was determined to crack the code.

He had a hunch, inspired by the arc reactor’s unexpected resilience against Loki’s mind control the previous year. Since his suits were made from gold-titanium alloy, he had plenty to tinker with. He figured it was at least a promising starting point. At least it gave them something to tinker with as Harry peppered him with questions about circuits and enchantments.

The hours slipped by until the quiet hum of the lab was shattered by a sudden, deafening crack of thunder. The sound was sharp, singular, and completely at odds with the clear blue sky outside.

Harry froze mid-sentence, his eyes darting toward the ceiling. “What was that?”

Tony didn’t need to guess. There was only one person he knew who could make an entrance like that. His suspicions were confirmed when Jarvis’s calm voice chimed in.

“Sir, Thor has arrived on the rooftop. He appears to have brought Loki with him.”

“Shit,” Tony swore under his breath. Loki. Of all the unannounced visitors…

“Great,” he muttered. “Let them into the penthouse. Don’t let the others know Loki’s here yet, I need to talk to them first.”

“Understood, sir,” Jarvis replied smoothly.

Tony turned to Harry, who was staring at him with wide, expectant eyes. He could practically see the questions swirling in his head.

“Well, kiddo, it’s about time you met the last member of my little rag-tag team,” Tony said with a nervous grin. “And his... complicated brother that tried to take over the world last year. Thor and Loki.”

Harry’s brows shot up. “The Norse gods?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Tony said, waving a hand vaguely. “But they’re actually aliens.”

Harry blinked, his head tilting slightly. “Is that the scientific explanation?”

“Yes?” Tony hesitated, unsure where this was going.

Harry snorted. “Because for us magical folk, they’re very much part of our history books. From what I’ve read, they haven’t exactly ‘graced’ us with their presence for a few hundred years.”

“Well, they’re still aliens,” Tony said defensively, crossing his arms. “Not from Earth.”

Harry gave him an amused look. “Sure, Dad. Totally aliens. Not actual gods or anything.”

Tony groaned, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to be fun.” He gestured for Harry to follow him. “C’mon, let’s go meet the thunder squad before Thor smashes something or Loki tries to... I don’t know, monologue.”

As Tony and Harry stepped into the penthouse, they were greeted by an unusual sight. Thor stood in a silent staring contest with Hedwig, the snowy owl perched regally on her stand, her amber eyes unblinking as if challenging the God of Thunder. Across the room, Loki lounged on the sofa, his presence radiating effortless arrogance. He looked like he belonged there, his dark attire blending seamlessly with the sophisticated décor, his expression a mix of disinterest and mild disdain.

When Loki’s gaze landed on Harry, though, a flicker of amusement lit his eyes. Harry couldn’t help but think he looked a little like Snape, aloof, calculating, and far too observant for comfort.

Thor broke the silence as they approached. “Man of Iron! It is good to see you again!” His booming voice was warm, accompanied by an exuberant grin. Before Tony could protest, Thor had him wrapped in a bone-crushing hug.

Tony winced. “Thor…. lungs…. need those!” he wheezed out.

Releasing him with a hearty laugh, Thor turned his attention to Harry, his blue eyes bright with curiosity. “And who is this young mage you bring with you?”

“This is my son, Harry,” Tony said, his voice softening slightly as he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Due to... recent events, he’s come into my care.”

Thor tilted his head, a look of interest crossing his face. “You have a magical child, Stark? Fascinating.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “You so much as think of touching my son, and I’ll sic the MACUSA and the goblins on you. Believe me, they don’t scare easy, and neither do I.”

Thor held up his hands in surrender. “Peace, Stark. I mean no harm. Magical children are a blessing, rare and precious. I would not dream of hurting him.” He smiled warmly at Harry, though the tension in Tony’s posture didn’t ease. “But it seems the magical community is thriving far more than I had thought.”

Tony’s jaw tightened, his protective hand remaining firm on Harry’s shoulder. “Why’d you bring your brother with you, Thor?” His gaze cut sharply to Loki, who was watching the exchange with an air of detached amusement.

Thor’s expression grew a touch more serious. “Our father has decreed that Loki’s punishment for his misdeeds shall be to live among the people of Midgard, under my watch, with his powers sealed.”

At this, Loki let out a low, exasperated mutter. “Not all my powers,” he drawled, his tone thick with disdain.

Harry watched the three men, noting the subtle tension in the room. Thor, ever the exuberant optimist, seemed at ease despite the weight of his brother’s presence. Tony, on the other hand, remained guarded, his distrust of Loki practically crackling in the air. And Loki… Loki was studying them all with a sharpness that made Harry’s skin prickle.

Throwing caution to the wind, Harry stepped out from under Tony’s protective grip and walked toward the dark-haired god. He felt his dad’s eyes burning into the back of his head, and he was sure Thor was watching him just as closely.

“You’re the God of Mischief, right?” Harry asked, taking the seat across from Loki.

Loki arched a brow, clearly intrigued. “Indeed.”

“So…” Harry tilted his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Did you really give birth to an eight-legged horse?”

The question hung in the air for a moment before Thor erupted into booming laughter, his voice echoing through the penthouse. Loki’s previously calm façade cracked, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing with irritation, though there was a glimmer of amusement behind them.

“See what chaos your ridiculous tales have wrought, brother!” Loki snapped at Thor, who was still clutching his sides. Turning back to Harry, Loki’s lips curled into a wry smile. “No, I did not birth Sleipnir. Though I may have had a… hand in his arrival into this universe. Let us leave it at that.” His voice dropped into a warning tone. “And do not ask about the other tales of my children. Some things are best left unspoken.”

Harry nodded quickly, sensing this was a boundary better left untouched. Still, he couldn’t resist lightening the mood. “I know some twins who’d love to meet you,” he said, a grin breaking across his face. “Fred and George, they’d probably start dedicating all their pranks in your honour. You’d be their hero.”

Loki’s brows lifted in genuine surprise before a laugh slipped from him, a sound smooth and rich like silk. The unexpected warmth in it caught everyone off guard. Even Tony, who had been watching him like a hawk, blinked in surprise.

“You have an interesting son, Stark,” Loki said, his voice laced with dry amusement. “I would be… delighted to meet these troublemakers of yours, little mage.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted as the rest of the Avengers filed in. Clint was at the forefront, a knife in hand, his body tense and coiled like a spring. The others followed, their expressions guarded, calm masking an undercurrent of unease.

“What do you mean by ‘little mage’?” Clint asked, his sharp gaze fixed on Loki, though it flicked briefly to Harry.

Harry stepped forward, raising his hands in mock theatrics. “Uh… surprise! I can do magic!” he announced, wiggling his fingers with a grin that only slightly masked his nerves.

“Yeah, kiddo, that’s not going to cut it,” Tony muttered, stepping beside him. His tone was light, but there was a hard edge to his words, a clear warning to the room.

Tony straightened, his protective energy filling the space. “What Harry means,” he began, his voice steady, “is that there’s an entire magical community out there that he’s a part of. A community that, frankly, hasn’t done much to protect him.” His gaze swept the room, daring anyone to challenge him.

“Some madman has been after my kid for years,” Tony continued, his voice growing sharper, “and when I took him into my custody and found out about magic, I made one thing clear to myself: I will never let anyone put Harry in harm’s way again.”

The room was silent, the weight of Tony’s words sinking in. Harry glanced up at his dad, feeling equal parts embarrassed and grateful.

“And just so we’re clear,” Tony added, his tone turning icy, “if any of you have a problem with Harry being a wizard, you’d better rethink it fast. Because Harry isn’t the only one out there. He’s kind of a big deal in the magical world, a celebrity, even. And he’s got the Magical Congress of the United States of America backing him. If they think any of you are a threat to the magical community, they won’t hesitate to wipe your memories of everything magical.”

The Avengers exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke up.

“We were going to tell you soon,” Tony said, his voice softening slightly. “Harry’s starting school in a week and learning magic is going to be a big part of his life. But here’s the thing: magic has touched all of us in some way, whether we realized it or not. So, does anyone have a problem with this?”

Tony’s question hung in the air. His tone left no room for argument, but it was clear he was watching their reactions closely.

When no one answered, Tony gave a curt nod. “Good. Harry’s just a kid. Save your anger for Loki.” His eyes darted to the lounging god. “He’s the one who messed with our heads last year, and it looks like we’ll be ‘graced’ with his presence for a while. So, if you want revenge, aim it at him, not my son.”

The room remained quiet, the tension gradually easing as the Avengers processed Tony’s words. There was a flicker of understanding in their eyes. Harry wasn’t Loki, and whatever else they might feel about the situation, they could see how fiercely Tony would fight for his son.

Tony caught Steve’s eye. The Captain’s expression was thoughtful, but there was a glimmer of something else, pride. After everything with Bucky, Steve had begun to see how much Tony had grown, and how deeply he cared for the people in his life.

“So,” Clint finally broke the silence, sliding his knife back into its sheath, “why is Loki here?”

Chapter Text

“Why is Loki here?” Natasha asked, her voice sharp as she echoed Clint’s question. She crossed her arms and pinned Tony with a hard stare. “And don’t think we’re done talking about everything you just glossed over.”

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Thor?” he said, deflecting the question to the god of thunder. “This one’s all on you.”

Thor straightened, his posture as regal as ever, and spoke with his usual booming confidence. “It has been decreed by the All-Father that Loki’s punishment cannot simply be confinement. Locking him in a cell would not be enough to atone for the chaos he unleashed upon Midgard and Asgard alike. Thus, his powers have been stripped, most of them, at least, and he has been sent to your realm to prove himself worthy of redemption.” Thor paused, glancing at Loki, who lounged on the couch with a bored expression.

“Loki is to partake in what you call community service,” Thor continued, his voice reverberating through the room. “He will aid in repairing the damage he has caused and learn humility through acts of service. If he fails,” Thor’s voice grew grim, “he will be exiled to an uninhabited planet for the next millennium.”

Loki gave a sardonic smile from his seat, one hand draped dramatically over the armrest. “Yes, the All-Father is so confident in my failure that he’s already preparing my cell,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery.

Tony raised an eyebrow, leaning against the nearest wall. “I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do,” he quipped. “Although I can’t imagine the world will throw a parade when they find out you’re back.”

“Loki is magical, right?” Harry’s voice cut in, curious and cautious as he perched on a chair opposite the trickster god.

Loki’s sharp gaze flicked to the boy, and his lips curled into a faint sneer. “Yes,” he said, his voice cool and clipped, “or I should be.”

Harry tilted his head, unbothered by Loki’s demeanour. “Well, maybe the magical community could use your help. Voldemort’s clearly still alive and after me. Loki could help take down a dark lord while doing community work, like food drives or something.”

The room fell silent for a moment as everyone processed Harry’s suggestion. Thor’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, and even Loki looked momentarily intrigued.

Tony crossed his arms, considering his son’s words. Voldemort wasn’t a topic they’d discussed much outside of the grim recounting of Harry’s past, but the threat was real. And as much as Tony wanted to shield Harry from every danger, Voldemort’s existence was a problem that couldn’t be ignored.

“That’s... not a bad idea,” Tony admitted. “But, kiddo, I don’t want your life revolving around that monster. You’re starting school next week, and that’s where your focus should be. We can work on this in the background. Loki,” Tony said, shifting his attention to the god lounging across the couch, “could be useful in taking down old Moldyshorts. But he should also focus on helping the people he’s hurt the most, the ones who need it the most.”

Loki leaned forward slightly; his interest was piqued despite himself. “I will assist in whatever endeavours Thor deems appropriate,” he said, his tone formal yet tinged with curiosity. “As per the All-Father’s orders, of course.”

Harry glanced between Loki and his dad, sensing an unspoken understanding beginning to form. Loki might not have been the ideal ally, but he could be a valuable one. None of them could have foreseen the role Loki would eventually play or how much the trickster god’s presence would reshape the paths of their lives.

Tony sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he ushered the rest of the team out of his living area. Assigning Loki to a room opposite Thor’s felt like the easiest way to avoid an immediate clash amongst everyone. Not that it would last, but Tony wasn’t in the mood to referee their antics tonight.

When he returned to the main living room, he was surprised to find Steve still there, even though he distinctly remembered the man leaving earlier. Steve sat on the couch, speaking quietly with Harry. Their conversation had the air of something light but meaningful, and it made Tony pause for a moment, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

Without a word, he moved to join them, settling next to Harry. His son leaned into his side without hesitation, and Tony instinctively wrapped an arm around him. Steve glanced up and smiled at the sight.

“That was… something else,” Steve said after a moment, his tone dry.

“You can say that again,” Tony replied with a chuckle.

Harry looked up at his dad, his green eyes bright with curiosity. “Dad… was that really the Loki and the Thor?”

Tony smirked. “Kiddo, I don’t think you’ve ever been this impressed with me. I mean, your old man is Iron Man, and yet here you are, fangirling over Thunder Boy and his adopted drama king.”

Harry flushed, glancing away. “It’s not that you’re not awesome…” he muttered, clearly embarrassed. “It’s just… the Norse gods are in our history books. Especially the old ways, before the magical community went into hiding during the witch hunts. They were huge back then, and when we lost contact with them, it was like they faded into myth. But meeting them in person…” He paused, struggling to find the words. “It’s just cool. The books were right about the way their power feels. Like how it makes your skin crawl and your hair stand on end.”

Tony laughed softly, squeezing Harry’s shoulder. “Alright, kid, I get it. Honestly, I felt the same way when I met Capsicle over here. All those amazing stories about him in the history books, and then you meet him in person, and he’s even better than the books say.”

“Tony…” Steve started, clearly flustered.

“It’s true, Steve,” Tony interrupted. His voice softened, and he glanced at the man beside him. “Especially the way my dad used to talk about you. Like you were the son he never had.”

For a moment, Steve’s face flickered with emotions: surprise, guilt, and something softer, maybe even regret. Tony held his gaze, shrugging as if it didn’t bother him. “It wasn’t your fault, Steve.”

Steve gave a small, hesitant smile, but before the conversation could drift into heavier territory, Harry piped up. “Dad, do you think Loki would teach me some of his magic?”

Tony turned to his son, eyebrows raised. “Loki? Teach you magic?” He chuckled. “You never know with that guy. You’d have to ask him yourself.”

Harry’s face lit up, and he began to rise from the couch, but Tony quickly tugged him back down. “Not now, though. Give it some time, kiddo. Loki’s… complicated.”

Steve watched the interaction with a quiet smile before rising from his seat. “I should head out. There are a few things I need to take care of.”

Tony leaned back, smirking. “See you later, Spangles.”

As Steve moved toward the elevator, he paused, glancing back at Tony. “And Tony… I’m sorry. About your father.”

Tony gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. “It’s alright, Steve.”

Steve hesitated for a moment longer before continuing. “Oh, and… Pepper reached out to me. She thinks the two of you need to talk.”

Tony sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He knew this was coming, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly. “I’ll talk to her.”

Steve offered a final, encouraging smile before stepping into the elevator and disappearing.

Tony remained on the couch, his arm still around Harry, staring at the elevator doors as if he could will them to open again. Talking to Pepper wasn’t going to be easy, but deep down, he knew Steve was right.

“Dad?” Harry’s voice broke the quiet moment, tentative but curious.

“Yeah, kiddo?” Tony glanced at him, noting the thoughtful expression on his son’s face.

“What were my grandparents like?”

Tony paused, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t something he’d thought much about lately, but he realized how little Harry probably knew about the people who came before him. With a soft sigh, he leaned back into the couch.

“Well, your granddad… he was a complicated guy. He expected the best out of everyone, no exceptions. Sometimes that meant he forgot about his own family along the way.” Tony’s voice softened. “But that didn’t mean he didn’t love us. He just… didn’t always show it in the right ways.”

Harry nodded, his expression pensive, and Tony took it as a cue to continue. “Now, your grandmother,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, “she was something else. A force of nature. Smart, elegant, and sharp as a tack. She had this way of making everyone around her feel like they were the most important person in the room.”

Tony spent the next hour sharing stories about his parents, focusing mostly on his mother. He spoke of her warmth, her wit, and the way she had balanced out Howard’s intensity. It was rare for Tony to dwell on the past like this, but Harry listened so intently that it made him want to keep going.

Finally, he had JARVIS pull up the digitized photos of his family, even some of Edwin Jarvis, the man who had been more of a parental figure to him than Howard ever was.

Harry leaned in closer, captivated by the images of a family he’d never known.

~~~~~

The next day dawned bright, but Tony found himself seated at his desk, staring at his phone like it was some kind of ticking time bomb.

He had just returned from a shopping trip with Harry to pick up everything his son needed for school, which was starting tomorrow. Tony had suggested having everything delivered; it would’ve been easier and quicker, but Harry had insisted on doing it himself. Tony couldn’t help but smile at the kid’s independence.

Now, though, his thoughts were elsewhere. He knew he needed to make this call, but the idea of actually dialing the number filled him with a strange mix of dread and resignation.

“Sir,” JARVIS’s calm voice broke the silence, “if I may offer some advice, I believe it would be best to speak to her now, rather than prolonging this any further.”

Tony exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks, J. You’re annoyingly right, as always.”

With a deep breath, he pressed the call button.

The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered. “Tony?” Pepper’s voice came through, warm but tinged with something unreadable.

“Hey, Pep,” Tony replied, his tone softer than usual. “I think… I think we need to talk.”

“God, Tony, I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” Her relief was palpable, and Tony felt a small pang of guilt for how long he’d avoided this conversation. “I’m close to the Tower. Do you want to meet there, or should we go to that café we used to like?”

Tony hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’ll meet you at the café.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll see you there.”

Tony ended the call, staring at the phone for a moment before standing. He found Harry in his room, busily sorting through his school supplies. “Hey, kiddo. I’m heading out for a bit,” he said casually.

Harry looked up, giving him a quick nod. “Okay, Dad. Have fun… or, you know, whatever it is you’re doing.”

Tony chuckled, ruffling his hair before heading out the door.

The walk to the café gave him time to think. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to Pepper, or how this conversation would go, but at least he was doing it. That had to count for something, right?

When he arrived, he spotted her immediately. She was seated at their usual table at the back, where they could talk without being overheard.

Tony straightened his jacket, steeling himself before making his way over. As he walked through the café, he caught the eye of a waitress who froze mid-step, her eyes wide with recognition. He offered her a quick nod before taking the seat across from Pepper.

Not moments later, the same waitress approached, her notepad trembling slightly in her hands. Tony smiled politely as she took his order, the interaction grounding him just enough to face the conversation ahead.

Pepper looked at him, her expression a mix of cautious optimism and weariness. “It’s good to see you, Tony,” she said softly.

Tony nodded; his throat suddenly dry. “Yeah,” he managed. “You too.”

Tony sat silently across from Pepper, his coffee untouched, waiting for her to speak. The air between them was heavy, thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Pepper’s gaze was fixed on her hands, twisting the edge of a napkin as if it might somehow unravel the knot between them.

When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything, Tony exhaled sharply. “Pepper,” he began, his tone measured but carrying a sharp edge of hurt, “you honestly hurt me.”

Pepper’s eyes flicked up, startled, but he pushed on.

“Harry is my son,” Tony said, his voice steady, though the weight of his words hung between them. “I’ve known about him since before he was born. But the way you assumed he was just some… consequence of my younger, more reckless days? That dug deep.” He shook his head, bitterness lacing his tone. “Yeah, I used to sleep around... a lot. I won’t deny that. But I was always careful, Pep. Hell, I didn’t even physically sleep with Harry’s mom. I was a sperm donor, at most.”

Pepper’s lips parted as if to speak, but Tony didn’t let her interrupt.

“I wasn’t even supposed to meet him until he was older. But things happened. Big things. And I should have had him with me since he was a baby.” His eyes softened momentarily as he thought of Harry. “And not having you by my side in this, not having your support; it stung. Because you’d rather believe this image of me, this caricature, than listen to my words.”

“Tony…” Pepper began, her voice trembling, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“I loved you, Pep. Once. And I still do… but not in the same way anymore. Honestly? Sometimes I’m glad we ended things.” His words were firm but not cruel, spoken like a man who had wrestled with the truth long enough to make peace with it. “We don’t work, Pepper. We never did. And you’ve just proved my point; we can’t be more than friends. I wanted you to be part of my life, part of Harry’s life. But have you even said a word to him?”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing. “What has he ever done to you?”

Pepper’s shoulders shook as silent tears spilled down her cheeks. Tony felt a pang of guilt, but he didn’t regret what he’d said. She needed to hear it. They both did.

The waitress appeared awkwardly in the middle of the conversation, placing Tony’s coffee in a to-go cup without a word. The tension was palpable, and Tony gave her a tight nod of thanks before turning back to Pepper.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “Tony, I really am sorry.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, his voice gentler now but still resolute. “And I was really hurt.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “It’s going to take time, Pep. A lot of time, if we ever even get back to where we were. But one thing’s for sure: Harry is my life now. And I’ll be damned if I let anything, or anyone, come between that.”

He took a sip of his coffee before standing up. “I should go,” he said, his tone lighter, though the weight of the conversation still lingered. “I left Harry alone in the Tower, and I don’t need one of the assassins teaching him how to disarm me in my sleep.”

Tony placed a hand on Pepper’s shoulder, a small gesture of comfort that belied the finality of his words. He nodded to her, his heart aching as he watched her cry. But he wasn’t going to beg for forgiveness, not for something he hadn’t done.

This wasn’t the end, not entirely, but Tony knew they’d reached a turning point. He’d moved past the person he was when he and Pepper had tried to make things work. And now, with Harry in his life, he had something far more important to focus on.

As he walked out of the café and into the crisp afternoon air, Tony felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness. There was still a weight in his chest, but it wasn’t as heavy as it had been.

He smiled faintly at the thought of Harry, probably neck-deep in his school supplies by now. Tony didn’t want to waste another moment. It was time to head home, where he belonged, and spend the rest of the day with his son before the adventure of school began tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Tony woke earlier than usual on the last Monday of August, a rarity for him but a necessity today. It was Harry’s first day of school, and Tony was determined to make it special. They’d debated starting on September 1st, aligning with the traditional Hogwarts schedule, but ultimately decided to stick with the U.S. school calendar. It made more sense, given the structure of Harry’s new education: alternating weeks of non-magical subjects and magical studies. Today marked the start of his first “normal” school week.

Glancing at the clock, Tony saw it was barely past six. Harry’s first class wouldn’t begin until 7:30, but Tony wanted time to prepare breakfast and, frankly, to settle his nerves. Even though classes were held in the Tower and there was no morning rush to contend with, the milestone still felt monumental.

Tony made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a few pans to cook up a proper breakfast. Normally, mornings in the Stark household were quick affairs: coffee, maybe a protein bar, and out the door. But today wasn’t a normal day. Today called for bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Harry loved pancakes, though he stubbornly refused to call them that, insisting they were too “small and fat” to deserve the name. Tony chuckled at the thought as he flipped one onto the plate.

By the time the clock neared seven, Tony went upstairs to wake Harry, but to his surprise, he found his son already awake, dressed, and looking eager.

Harry practically buzzed with excitement as he finished tying his shoelaces. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this thrilled about starting school, not even before his first trip to Hogwarts. Back then, he’d been more nervous than anything else, unsure of what to expect. Now, he knew exactly what was coming.

The placement tests he’d taken a few weeks prior had been a wake-up call. He was behind, not just in non-magical subjects but in the magical ones, too. America, as it turned out, had much higher academic standards than Britain. But instead of feeling discouraged, Harry saw it as a challenge. He’d made it his goal to catch up by the third quarter, and this time, there were no restrictions holding him back.

The memories of holding himself back still stung. As a child, doing better than Dudley in school had led to punishments he’d rather forget. He’d learned quickly that excelling came at a price. Even at Hogwarts, he’d often avoided standing out, afraid of losing the fragile friendships he’d built. But here, with his dad encouraging him every step of the way, Harry finally felt free to do his best.

When he reached the kitchen, the smell of breakfast greeted him warmly. Tony had outdone himself. Harry filled his plate with a generous helping of bacon, eggs, and the so-called “pancakes” before settling into his seat.

Tony joined him a moment later, sliding into the chair next to Harry with his own plate. “So,” he asked, his voice light, “are you ready for your first day of school?”

“Yup!” Harry said, popping the ‘p’ with enthusiasm. His green eyes sparkled as he launched into a rapid-fire explanation. “I’m really excited about my first lesson, chemistry! It’s kinda like potions, right? At least, in some ways. I can’t wait to try my first practical. And biology sounds fun, too! The little I learned before Hogwarts was so basic- just bugs and plants- but there’s so much more to it. Oh, and Italian! I’m really looking forward to that. Once I get the basics down, we can practice it every night, right? I really want to be able to speak the language!”

Tony couldn’t help but grin as he listened to Harry’s excitement. He recognized that eager energy all too well; it was the same drive he felt whenever he dove into a new project.

“Glad to hear it, kiddo,” Tony said, smiling warmly. His heart swelled with pride, not just for Harry’s enthusiasm but for the resilience he’d shown in getting to this point.

When Harry finished his breakfast, they headed down to a lower floor of the Tower. Tony had carefully planned this setup. He didn’t want Harry’s lessons taking place on any of the team’s designated levels. Those areas were too chaotic, not to mention full of distractions. Instead, Tony had left a couple of floors deliberately empty, just in case the team expanded in the future, and repurposed one of them into a dedicated space for Harry’s schooling.

The floor directly above the training area had been transformed into a series of classrooms. Most lessons would take place in the main classroom, but Tony had designed a few specialized rooms for practical lessons. He’d also left room for adjustments, hoping the magical tutors would help finalize the space once they arrived.

As they reached the classroom, Tony lingered only long enough to greet Harry’s first tutor. He ruffled his son’s hair and gave him an encouraging grin before leaving Harry to his studies.

~~~~~

Harry’s day began with chemistry, and it was every bit as fascinating as he’d hoped. The way his tutor described the elements, their interactions, and how different forms affected reactions reminded Harry of potions. But there was a precision to chemistry, a methodical, almost mechanical quality, that made it uniquely exciting.

Latin came next. While Harry had a very basic understanding of the language, they started from scratch with simple phrases and grammatical structure. It was enjoyable enough, but he could already tell Latin wouldn’t be his favourite subject. Still, he was determined to give it his best shot.

Physics followed, and Harry found it particularly engaging. It reminded him of the time he’d spent with his dad in the lab, watching Tony work and asking countless questions. Many of the concepts already felt familiar, and he couldn’t help but imagine how understanding physics could help him someday assist in his dad’s projects.

By the time his first break rolled around at 11 a.m., Harry was thoroughly engrossed. Each of his one-hour lessons had left him buzzing with new information, and he felt like a sponge soaking it all up. He spent the half-hour break flipping through his notes, already eager for the next round of lessons.

After the break, Harry dove into biology, where he learned about cellular structures and processes in a way that finally made sense. The explanations were far more detailed than anything he’d been taught at his old school, and he found himself marvelling at the complexity of life.

Math followed biology, and while it was challenging, Harry found it oddly satisfying. There was something reassuring about numbers, how they fit together, always logical, always constant. He felt a spark of pride every time he solved a problem correctly.

At noon, Harry joined Steve and Bruce for lunch in the kitchen. Steve had made sandwiches, and Bruce had warmed up some leftovers. It was a casual, relaxed meal, and Harry enjoyed listening to their banter as he ate.

The afternoon brought three final lessons: social sciences, Italian, and English.

Social sciences turned out to be unexpectedly engaging, covering topics like culture, history, and geography. Harry realized how little he’d really thought about these things before and found himself fascinated by the discussions.

Italian, however, quickly became his favourite language. He loved the way the words flowed and how they sounded when his dad spoke them fluently. Tony had promised they’d practice together every evening, and Harry couldn’t wait to impress him.

English was the final lesson of the day, and while Harry enjoyed it, he was taken aback by how far behind he was compared to other students his age. His teacher seemed both surprised and curious about the odd words Harry occasionally used, relics of his magical upbringing. Determined to improve, Harry made a mental note to spend extra time on his writing and vocabulary.

By the time his lessons ended at 4 p.m., Harry was tired but exhilarated. He couldn’t wait to share his day with his dad.

“Jarvis,” he asked as he stepped out of the classroom, “where can I find my dad?”

“Sir is currently in lab 004 with Dr. Banner,” JARVIS replied, his voice warm and familiar.

“Thank you!” Harry said, beaming as he made his way to the elevator.

“You are most welcome, young Harry,” the AI responded, a trace of affection woven into his words.

Harry headed down to the lab and found his dad and Bruce hunched over something on the table. From the looks of it, they were waiting for... something. But nothing seemed to be happening. Their shared expressions of disappointment quickly shifted, though, as the object in question suddenly hissed, then erupted in a plume of pink smoke.

“Dad!” Harry called out, stepping fully into the room, alarm flashing across his face. “Are you alright?” He hesitated near the door, watching the pink cloud curl and dissipate.

Tony and Bruce waved the smoke away, coughing lightly. “We’re fine,” Tony said, though he frowned at the table. “At least, I think we’re fine.” He turned toward Bruce, eyebrows raised in question.

Bruce gave his lab coat a dusting and nodded. “Yeah, nothing harmful. Just another failed prototype.”

“What was that?” Harry asked, stepping closer to peer into the container. Its contents had transformed into a brittle, cracked substance that looked like burnt sugar.

“We were working on an adhesive,” Bruce explained, already clearing the workspace with practiced efficiency. “The idea was to create something flexible, like chewing gum when it’s being chewed, but with enough strength to hold things securely in place. Unfortunately…” He gestured toward the now-useless substance and sighed, moving to a nearby hologram to tweak the formula.

“It’s a work in progress,” Tony added with a shrug. He turned to Harry and gave his hair a playful ruffle. “Enough about that. How was your first day of school, kiddo?”

“It was amazing!” Harry’s face lit up as he launched into a rapid-fire summary of his day. “All my teachers were so much fun, and the subjects are so interesting. Tomorrow’s double lessons sound even better. Mrs. Dube said we might get to do some basic experiments if there’s enough time. And with the two-hour sessions, there should be plenty of time! I can’t wait to see what she meant about how different types of elements and their compounds react. She did say some of them are dangerous, though, and that I’d probably only work with those if I become a scientist when I’m older…”

Harry paused suddenly, his excitement dimming as he realized he’d been rambling. He glanced down, his cheeks reddening. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on and on like that.”

Tony crouched slightly to meet Harry’s gaze, a warm smile on his face. “Hey, don’t apologize for that. Ever. You’re excited, and that’s a good thing. You know, I do the same thing all the time, ask Brucie Bear over there.”

Bruce didn’t look up from the hologram but muttered a distracted, “Sure, Tony.”

“See? Even Bruce loves me for it,” Tony said with a grin, reaching out to gently nudge Harry’s shoulder. “Sometimes, you’ve got so much to say, and your brain’s running faster than your mouth can keep up. That’s not a bad thing. Don’t ever feel like you need to tone yourself down or hold back, especially when it’s about something that excites you or makes you happy.”

Harry hesitated but then nodded. “Okay.”

“‘Okay?’” Tony repeated, mock-stern.

Harry nodded again, this time with a small smile.

“Great. Now, what do you say we head upstairs? I’ll get started on dinner, and you can tell me everything about what you learned today. Sound good?”

“Yeah!” Harry beamed, his earlier hesitance forgotten.

Tony threw an arm around Harry’s shoulders as they made their way back upstairs. Harry was talking a mile a minute, recounting every detail of his day with unbridled enthusiasm. And Tony listened to every word, a soft smile playing on his lips.

These were the moments he’d longed for as a kid, the kind of moments he’d never had with his own father. He wasn’t going to let history repeat itself. Tony silently vowed to give Harry every ounce of love, attention, and support he’d once craved.

Whatever it took, he’d be there for his son. Always.

Chapter Text

While Harry was sitting in his lessons on Wednesday morning, Tony found himself dragged out of the lab by Steve. No explanation was needed; the determined look on Steve’s face said it all. The rest of the team had waited long enough, and they were demanding answers about magic.

The Avengers, plus Loki, were gathered in the common area. Tony noted the varying expressions around the room: curiosity, scepticism, and in Loki’s case, smug amusement. He sighed, sinking onto the edge of one of the couches. This wasn’t a conversation he’d been eager to have.

Natasha broke the silence. “Tony, we’ve been patient. You said you’d explain about Harry and... magic.”

Tony took a deep breath, bracing himself. “Alright, but what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. I’ve got permission to share this, but if it gets out to anyone who isn’t in the know, there are consequences. And I don’t just mean for you.” He paused, meeting each of their gazes. “We’re talking memory wipes, or worse. So keep this to yourselves.”

Clint leaned back, crossing his arms with a sarcastic smirk. “Oh, great. That’s not ominous or anything.”

Tony ignored him. “Magic has always existed on Earth,” he began. “But when witch hunts hit their peak, the magical community decided to go into hiding. They created barriers, spells, wards, and entire areas of land dedicated to magical creatures, places no non-magical person could ever find.

“They’ve been living like this for centuries, completely separate from the rest of the world. They have their own governments, schools, shopping districts, law enforcement, all of it. And everything is hidden behind layers of enchantments. If you’re not supposed to know it’s there, you won’t see it.”

He glanced at Loki, who looked utterly unimpressed, and then back to the rest of the team. “I won’t tell you Harry’s personal story; it’s his to share, but I’ll say this: it hasn’t been easy for him. Over the centuries, the magical world has had its share of wars, just like ours. A lot of them started because some power-hungry wizard decided that ancestry was more important than magic itself.” His voice tightened. “The last war ended the night Harry’s parents were killed. And let me tell you, it was bad. Worse than anything we’ve faced, even Hydra.”

The room was quiet, everyone absorbing the weight of his words.

“Just like here,” Tony continued, “there’s good magic and bad magic. Evil wizards are trying to dominate the world, and people are willing to stop them. It’s a lot to take in, but at the end of the day, Harry’s still Harry. I just hope this doesn’t change how you see him.”

Natasha was the first to respond, her voice soft but resolute. “Tony, Harry’s like family to all of us. Nothing about this changes that.”

“She’s right,” Clint added, his tone uncharacteristically sincere. “Harry’s like one of my own kids. Him being a wizard? Doesn’t change a damn thing. We love him just the same. And honestly? He’s the light of this place. You’re the glue that holds the team together, but Harry? He’s the joy that keeps us going when the days get rough. I can’t imagine this tower without him.”

Tony swallowed hard, his vision blurring slightly at the edges. He didn’t want to get emotional, but Clint’s words hit him harder than he’d expected.

Of course, Loki had to ruin the moment.

“As heartwarming as this little display of sentiment is,” Loki drawled, his tone laced with amusement, “when will the child begin his magical training? I wish to observe.”

Tony rolled his eyes, his voice dry. “Next week. Then every other week after that.”

“Good.” Loki smirked, reclining as though this was all part of some grand plan of his own.

Tony sighed, already resigned to the chaos Loki would inevitably bring to Harry’s lessons.

~~~~

Harry’s week had been nothing short of amazing, and it showed in the wide grin on his face as he sat in his room, video-calling Hermione. His laptop perched on his desk, he eagerly recounted every detail of his first week of school. Hermione listened intently, her own smile growing as Harry’s enthusiasm bubbled over.

“And then we did this experiment in chemistry, and it was so cool! The reaction turned blue, and it reminded me a little of potions, just... less magical but still fascinating. Oh, and Italian! It’s already my favorite. I’ve been practicing with Dad, and he says my accent isn’t completely awful!” Harry laughed, his green eyes sparkling.

Hermione chuckled. “That all sounds wonderful, Harry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited about lessons. It suits you.”

Harry’s smile softened. “Thanks, Hermione. But enough about me. Are you ready to go back to Hogwarts? I’m going to miss our weekly calls.”

Hermione sighed, her expression growing a little wistful. “Yes, we’ve got everything sorted. Mum and Dad took me shopping last Sunday for my school supplies. I think we might actually have a good Defence teacher this year, but I’m reserving judgment until I’ve had a lesson. And Ron...” She trailed off with a small laugh. “Well, he keeps complaining about you not coming back, but he’s sticking to his promise not to tell anyone. Although he doesn’t know why you left.”

Harry’s expression turned thoughtful. “Tell Ron I miss him too. And if he ever needs to, he can add a note to your letters when you write me. I’ll always write back. And you’re still sure your parents don’t mind emailing instead of using an owl?”

Hermione waved a dismissive hand. “They don’t mind at all, Harry. Honestly, they find the idea of emailing much more practical. Can you imagine an owl flying all the way from Scotland to New York? Poor thing. I’d feel awful. Besides, I already write letters to them weekly when I’m at Hogwarts, so this is just as easy.”

Relieved, Harry smiled. “That’s good. I’d hate to make things difficult for them. And you’re sure you’re okay with all the subjects you’re taking this year? You’ve got a lot on your plate.”

Hermione’s face lit up with excitement. “I’m fine! I’ve already made a timetable, and everything fits perfectly. Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures- it’s all so fascinating. I’m going to make it work, Harry, I promise.”

Harry shook his head fondly. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Hermione. Just don’t forget to take breaks, okay?”

“I won’t,” she assured him, though her grin suggested she might be stretching the truth a bit.

Their conversation continued, with Hermione diving into her plans for the year while Harry listened with equal enthusiasm. It was comforting to chat with her, even if he couldn’t be there in person.

The call ended when Jarvis’s polite voice interrupted. “Pardon the interruption, Harry, but Mr. Barton is looking for you. He was wondering if you’d like to continue your archery lessons this afternoon.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Thanks, Jarvis! Tell Clint I’ll be right there.”

“Of course, young sir.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and envy flashing across her face. “Archery lessons? With Clint Barton? Harry, that’s so cool!”

Harry grinned, grabbing his bow and arrows. “Yeah, it’s a lot of fun. Clint’s a great teacher and surprisingly patient. I’ll tell you all about it next time we chat, okay?”

“You’d better,” Hermione said with mock sternness, though her smile lingered.

“Deal. Bye, Hermione.”

“Bye, Harry. Have fun!” With that, Harry changed into workout-friendly clothes and made his way down to the training room, excitement buzzing through him.

When Harry entered the training room, bow in hand, he was surprised to find Loki lounging against the far wall. The god’s presence was unexpected; Harry hadn’t seen much of him since the day he arrived. Clint, who was already setting up the training targets, glanced briefly at Loki, his jaw tightening.

“Let’s get started, kid,” Clint said, his tone carefully neutral, though the set of his shoulders betrayed his discomfort.

Harry nodded, eager to begin. He had been practicing for about half an hour, with Clint occasionally stepping in to correct his posture or offer tips. Loki, however, remained uncharacteristically quiet, observing Harry’s every movement with an intensity that made the young wizard a little self-conscious.

Finally, Loki broke the silence. “You know,” he said, his voice smooth and nonchalant, “you could add a touch of magic to your arrows as you release them.”

Harry paused mid-draw, turning to stare at Loki, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I can do that?”

“Of course,” Loki replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It would take practice, but it’s well within your capabilities. I could teach you how.”

Before Harry could respond, Clint’s eyes narrowed, and he shot Loki a glare that practically screamed, Stay out of this. Loki, however, seemed entirely unbothered, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You’d teach me?” Harry asked, his excitement bubbling over. “That would be amazing! What kind of magic could I use with a bow?”

Loki’s smirk deepened, pleased by Harry’s enthusiasm. “Many kinds. Enchantment, elemental augmentation, even spells to guide your arrows to their target. The possibilities are vast. I’ve mastered many techniques over the centuries, though…” He gestured vaguely to himself, his expression briefly shadowed. “My current circumstances limit what I can demonstrate.”

Harry’s eyes lit up with wonder, imagining all the possibilities. The magical community had always spoken of Loki in hushed, almost reverent tones. His magic was legendary, not bound by the conventions of good or evil, but purely a force of nature, like the god himself.

“Wow, that sounds incredible,” Harry said earnestly. “But I think I’d like to focus on getting better with the bow first, you know? I don’t want to add magic into the mix until I’ve got the basics down.”

Clint’s posture visibly relaxed at Harry’s response, though he kept a wary eye on Loki.

“A sensible choice,” Loki said, inclining his head. “Mastery requires patience and dedication. But when you’re ready, little mage, I will be here. Magic is a precious gift, and wielding it to its full potential is an art worth pursuing.”

Harry nodded, a grateful smile on his face. “Thanks, Loki. Maybe we can start on the weekends or after my lessons are done for the day?”

“Of course,” Loki replied, though there was a flicker of disappointment in his expression that Harry didn’t notice. He straightened, brushing nonexistent dust from his tunic. “Until then, I will take my leave. Enjoy your practice, young one.”

Loki turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Clint, it was delightful catching up.”

Clint didn’t bother to hide his exasperated eye-roll as Loki exited the room.

As the door closed, Harry turned to Clint, tilting his head curiously. “You don’t like him, do you?”

Clint sighed, lowering his bow and leaning on it. “Not particularly. We’ve got... history, and it’s not exactly the friendly kind. But as long as he behaves himself, I can tolerate him.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, sensing there was more to the story but deciding not to press. “Well, at least he seems willing to help me. That’s something, right?”

Clint gave him a faint smile, ruffling Harry’s hair as they reset the targets. “We’ll see. For now, let’s stick to what we know. Magic or no magic, hitting a bullseye takes practice. Ready to go again?”

Harry grinned, gripping his bow tighter. “Always.”

~~~~

On Saturday evening, Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, typing out a message to Hermione. He wanted to make sure she got it before her first day back at Hogwarts, knowing he wouldn’t be up early enough to send it in the morning.

Good luck with your classes, Hermione. I can’t wait to hear all about them. Write when you can. I’ll have plenty to tell you too!

With a satisfied smile, Harry set his phone aside and climbed into bed, his excitement making it hard to fall asleep. Tomorrow would be the start of his magical lessons, and he could hardly wait.

When he finally woke up the next morning, it was already later than usual, but that didn’t bother him one bit. Hermione had probably been up hours ago, making her way to Hogwarts, while he was enjoying the luxury of a slower start to his day.

After getting dressed, Harry headed downstairs for breakfast. The tantalizing smell of eggs and pancakes greeted him as he entered the dining area. His dad was already there, sipping coffee and skimming through a holographic screen, but he looked up with a grin when Harry joined him.

“Big day today, kiddo,” Tony said, ruffling Harry’s hair affectionately as he took a seat. “Ready to blow some tutors’ minds?”

Harry grinned back, practically bouncing in his seat. “Absolutely! I can’t wait to get started. Though...I wish Hermione could text me from Hogwarts. It’s going to be so weird not being able to talk to her as much.”

Tony chuckled. “Well, maybe we’ll figure something out. A magical phone project sounds like something fun to tackle.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Do you really think we could? If Mr. Weasley can make a car fly, I bet we could make a phone work with magic.”

“Leave it to us, genius duo,” Tony said, winking.

As Harry finished his breakfast, he mentally ran through his schedule. His first two lessons would cover subjects he was already familiar with, likely assessments to see how much he knew. After that, the day would branch into entirely new material, including the Dark Arts, later in the afternoon. Harry was both nervous and thrilled at the prospect. He already imagined the stories he’d have to share with Hermione when he sent his next letter.

One detail still lingered in his mind, though. “Dad, is Loki really going to sit in on my lessons?”

Tony raised a brow over his coffee cup. “Yup. The god of mischief himself is curious about how we teach magic here. Don’t worry; he promised to behave. Probably.”

Harry wasn’t so sure about the last part, but he figured if Loki got bored during the initial assessments, it wouldn’t be his problem. He was just too excited to finally start learning magic in a formal setting.

With his anticipation mounting, Harry pushed back from the table and grabbed his bag. “Alright, I’m ready to go!”

Tony smiled fondly, watching him head toward the elevator. “Knock ‘em dead, kiddo.”

~~~~

Dumbledore’s usual twinkle dimmed slightly as he scanned the Great Hall, watching the crowd of students stream in. His sharp eyes flitted over every face, yet one in particular was conspicuously absent. The Boy Who Lived, the prophecy child, was nowhere to be seen.

The headmaster stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze lingering for a moment on Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. Both students seemed perfectly at ease, chatting amicably with their peers as they settled into their seats. Their lack of concern hinted that Harry’s absence wasn’t unexpected, at least not to them. Perhaps the boy had an upset stomach and had chosen to slip away to the loo before the feast began.

Dumbledore allowed the thought to pacify him as the Sorting Ceremony commenced. His expression softened when he saw the nervous first-years, their small frames dwarfed by the Sorting Hat as it called out their new houses. The hall erupted into cheers with each announcement, and for a while, the headmaster allowed himself to be carried along by the joyful atmosphere.

But as the feast wore on, unease crept back into his chest. Something wasn’t right.

Across the room, Remus Lupin shared a similarly troubled look. When the feast concluded, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor made his way to the head table, catching Dumbledore’s attention.

“Harry wasn’t at the feast,” Remus said softly, his brow furrowed.

Dumbledore gave a gentle nod, his voice calm but tinged with worry. “Yes, I noticed. I suspect he may be feeling unwell, though I’ll admit his absence is... unusual.”

“I hope that’s all it is,” Remus replied, though the unease in his tone suggested he wasn’t convinced.

Once the students had dispersed to their dormitories, Dumbledore took it upon himself to investigate further. He began with Professor McGonagall, catching her just outside the Gryffindor common room.

“Minerva, have you seen Mr. Potter this evening?” he asked, his voice carefully measured.

“No, Albus,” McGonagall replied, her lips pressed into a thin line. “And what’s more, his trunk and belongings aren’t in the dormitory. It seems he hasn’t returned at all.”

Dumbledore’s brows furrowed deeply. “I see. Thank you, Minerva.”

From there, he made his way to the dungeons, hoping Severus Snape might have some insight. When he mentioned Harry’s name, however, Snape’s trademark sneer deepened.

“I’ve seen no sign of the boy, nor have I heard any whispers from my house about his plans,” Snape said curtly, his tone laced with disdain. “If he’s managed to get himself into trouble, it’s hardly surprising.”

Dumbledore let out a soft sigh as he left the dungeons, ignoring Snape’s barbed remarks. The pieces didn’t add up. Harry’s closest friends seemed unconcerned, suggesting they knew something he didn’t. And yet, Harry’s belongings weren’t at Hogwarts, and there had been no word from the boy himself.

Back in his office, Dumbledore settled into his chair, staring at the flickering fire in the hearth. Memories of the previous year surfaced: of Harry’s relatives refusing to let him return to school, of the boy’s struggle to reach out for help. Was history repeating itself?

He resolved to give Harry two days. If no letter or message arrived by then, he would visit the Dursleys himself.

With his decision made, Dumbledore allowed himself to relax, donning his polka dot pyjamas and slipping into bed. His dreams that night were strange, filled with cryptic images of socks and shadows whispering of change. He dismissed them as nonsense, choosing instead to trust that everything would sort itself out.

But oh, how wrong he was.

Chapter Text

Dumbledore paced his office, the soft rustle of his robes the only sound breaking the oppressive silence. It was Tuesday, and still, there had been no word from Harry. His frustration was mounting, though he carefully kept his expression calm, outwardly, at least. The boy’s absence was troubling enough, but what gnawed at him more was the utter lack of communication. Harry wasn’t one to stay silent, not for this long.

After dinner, Dumbledore summoned Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to his office. They arrived promptly, though their discomfort was evident. Hermione sat stiffly in her chair, her knuckles white as she gripped the edges of her skirt. Ron fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, avoiding Dumbledore’s gaze altogether.

“Do either of you know where Harry might be?” Dumbledore asked, his voice measured but tinged with an edge of frustration.

Both students shook their heads. “No, Professor,” Hermione answered quickly, her tone a little too composed.

Ron mumbled something incoherent, his ears reddening.

Dumbledore’s sharp blue eyes narrowed as he studied them. They were hiding something; that much was clear. When he attempted to catch their gaze, neither one met his eyes, a deliberate effort that only deepened his suspicions.

“Very well,” he said finally, though his tone was heavy with disappointment. “You may go.”

The moment the door closed behind them, Dumbledore summoned a house-elf, instructing it to fetch Severus and Minerva immediately. Minerva arrived first, her expression already lined with concern. Severus, as expected, arrived late, his reluctance written all over his scowl.

“Do either of you know where Mr. Potter might be?” Dumbledore asked, his attempt at calm undermined by the frustration slipping into his voice.

Severus sneered, his lip curling. “The boy is likely seeking attention. Fame hasn’t been enough to sate his need for the spotlight, clearly.”

Minerva’s eyes flashed. “Severus, really!” she snapped. Turning back to Dumbledore, her voice softened but carried a sharp edge. “Albus, I told you not to place Harry with those dreadful Muggles. What if something has happened to him? You know how they treated him!”

Severus’s head snapped toward her, his dark eyes narrowing. “The Dursleys?” he hissed, venom dripping from the word. “Don’t tell me you left him with that woman, Albus.”

Dumbledore remained silent, which was all the confirmation Severus needed.

“You fool,” Severus said coldly. “If you wanted the boy to be safe, you would have kept him as far from Petunia Dursley as possible. You may have condemned him to his death.”

“Now, Severus,” Dumbledore said, raising a hand in a weak attempt to restore order. “Let us not be hasty. The wards surrounding that house are the strongest protections available. Harry is safe there, I assure you.”

“Then where is he?” Minerva demanded, her voice trembling with equal parts anger and fear.

Dumbledore hesitated, the weight of their stares pressing down on him. “That is what we’re going to find out,” he said finally. “The three of us will visit Privet Drive tonight. I’m certain we’ll have answers by morning.”

But by morning, everything Dumbledore had believed would be shattered.

They arrived at Number 4, Privet Drive, under the cover of darkness. The house was eerily silent, its driveway conspicuously empty. Dumbledore frowned as he cast a quick unlocking charm on the front door.

The inside of the house was cold and lifeless. Dust blanketed every surface, and the air smelled stale, as though it had been months since anyone had lived there. A few pieces of furniture remained, draped in white sheets, their shapes ghostly in the dim light.

“Albus,” Minerva said, her voice trembling. “Tell me you knew about this.”

Dumbledore didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His mind churned, grappling with the unexpected void before him. He prided himself on knowing everything of importance, yet here he stood, blindsided.

Severus snorted, his arms crossed. “So much for your ‘safest place,’” he muttered.

Without another word, the three of them hurried to Arabella Figg’s home. When she answered the door, her face was pale, and her hands shook with fury.

“I’ve been trying to contact you all summer!” she shouted before Dumbledore could speak. “There’s been a car accident. Vernon’s dead, and Petunia’s only just come out of the ICU, and she’s facing charges for child endangerment! Dudley’s gone to live with his aunt, but as for Harry—”

“Where is he?” Dumbledore interrupted, his voice urgent.

Mrs. Figg shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together. “No one knows. Social services couldn’t find him, and the Dursleys didn’t say a word. He’s gone, Albus. Vanished.”

Dumbledore’s heart sank. The boy was alive, of that he was certain; the instruments in his office confirmed it. But alive and safe were two very different things.

If anyone had thought to check the Muggle internet, they would have found the answer easily enough. Headlines proclaimed Harry Potter as Tony Stark’s son, photos splashed across the pages of news sites. But Dumbledore, despite his professed love for Muggles, had always dismissed their technology as inferior, unworthy of his attention.

Now, he would have to resort to other means. He would find Harry, and when he did, he vowed, the boy would never slip through his fingers again.

~~~~

Harry had been having an incredible week at school. His magical studies were more engaging and challenging than anything Hogwarts had ever offered, and he couldn’t be happier. He had just finished drafting a letter to the Grangers, which they could print and deliver to Hermione once she sent her first letter home. He made a mental note to ask her how she was finding the magical school, though he doubted it could rival his own experience so far.

Now, Harry was lounging in the common area with the Avengers- and Loki, who had somehow inserted himself into their dynamic without much fanfare. Tonight was their monthly Saturday movie marathon, something Tony insisted on for both Steve and Harry to “catch up on pop culture,” though Harry suspected it was mostly an excuse for his dad to unwind.

Everyone was dressed in comfortable clothes and sprawled across the couches, beanbags, and armchairs. Bruce and Steve were bringing in snacks, Natasha sat cross-legged with a sharp look that somehow still said “relaxed,” and Clint was perched upside down in an armchair, munching popcorn. Loki, predictably, had declined to sit. He leaned against the back of the couch with an air of superiority, arms folded, looking entirely unimpressed. Harry sat quietly, fiddling with the bracelet Tony had designed for him, a compact emergency device that could form a protective gauntlet and fire small energy bursts.

The calm didn’t last.

Two loud pops shattered the air, and suddenly, two very unwelcome figures appeared in the room. Dumbledore and Snape.

Within seconds, the atmosphere turned electric. Natasha had a gun pointed at the intruders before anyone could blink. Clint had two knives in his hands, Steve stepped forward with his fists clenched, and Thor extended his arm, summoning Mjölnir with a deafening whump. Loki didn’t move from his spot but raised a hand, green magic flickering ominously at his fingertips.

Harry barely had time to process it all before he realized his own bracelet had reacted, forming a sleek metal gauntlet over his hand. A soft whir from above told him that Jarvis had even activated a ceiling-mounted sniper. Tony was the only one not immediately brandishing a weapon, though Harry knew better than to assume he wasn’t ready.

“Harry, my boy! What are you doing in America?” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he spotted him, entirely ignoring the array of deadly weapons pointed in his direction.

“Who the fuck is your boy?” Tony snapped, stepping forward, palm outstretched and ready to fire. “Harry, come here. Away from the old pedophile.”

Dumbledore’s expression darkened with indignation. “Now, listen here! I am not a pedophile. I am Harry’s guardian.”

“Guardian, my ass,” Tony retorted, voice laced with venom. “Harry, get over here before I blast this wrinkled wizard into next week.”

“Harry, you must come with us,” Dumbledore implored, seemingly unfazed. “Hogwarts is where you belong.”

“No,” Harry said flatly, his voice steady.

“You stupid boy!” Snape barked, his face twisting with fury. “Don’t you realize you’re unprotected here with these Muggles? But no, you just had to chase more attention—”

Before he could finish, Harry raised his gauntleted arm and fired. The projectile struck Snape square in the groin, the professor letting out a strangled grunt as he collapsed to the floor.

The gauntlet snapped back onto Harry’s hand with a satisfying click.

“Harry!” Dumbledore gasped, wand in hand, but before he could utter a spell, Loki’s magic wrapped around him like shimmering vines, holding him firmly in place.

“I wouldn’t recommend trying anything, old man,” Loki drawled, his voice low and deadly.

Tony stepped forward, placing himself between Dumbledore and Harry. “What business do you have with my son?” he demanded, emphasizing the last two words.

“Harry is the son of Lily and James Potter!” Dumbledore declared, his voice rising in indignation.

“Not biologically,” Tony countered with a smug grin. “He’s the product of me and a family who couldn’t conceive because James was shooting blanks.”

Dumbledore’s jaw dropped, but he quickly masked his surprise, slipping back into his grandfatherly demeanor. “Regardless, Harry is a wizard and must return to Hogwarts to complete his education.”

“I’m well aware of magic, as is everyone else in this room,” Tony said smoothly. “And no, Harry won’t be returning to your little death trap. He’ll finish his education here in the States, where he’s safe.”

“That is preposterous!” Dumbledore snapped. “Harry, you must—”

“I said no,” Harry interrupted, his voice firm.

“You heard him,” Tony said coldly. “You’re not welcome here.”

“And if you ever return,” Loki added, his voice calm but icy, “you will face the wrath of gods and heroes.”

Loki’s magic swirled, growing brighter, and with a flash of green light, Dumbledore and Snape vanished. The shimmering energy expanded, coating the entire Avengers building with an invisible barrier. Loki’s magic settled, but the god staggered slightly, leaning against the couch to steady himself. The little magic he had access to was strained.

“I have banished them from the premises,” Loki announced, his voice slightly strained. “And placed protections so no one who means Harry harm may enter.”

“Thank you, Loki,” Tony said, his voice sincere.

The god blinked, caught off guard. “You are… welcome, Stark.” He quickly schooled his features, though he looked faintly embarrassed.

“Please, call me Tony. You’ve more than proven yourself.”

Tony turned back to Harry, scanning him for injuries. “Are you okay?” he asked, his hands checking Harry over despite the boy’s protests.

“I’m fine, Dad!” Harry exclaimed, swatting Tony’s hands away. “I just didn’t expect Dumbledore to show up so soon.”

“That was Dumbledore?” Clint asked from his perch. “Huh. Thought he’d look more… Gandalf-y. Also, nice shot, kid.”

The group slowly relaxed, weapons disappearing back into hiding places. Eventually, they all settled back into their seats, though the tension lingered. If anyone noticed that Loki chose to sit on the edge of the couch where Harry was or that Harry edged closer to Tony, no one mentioned it.

As the first movie started, Harry let out a small sigh. He would definitely have to write to Hermione about this.

~~~~

The next day, Harry found himself standing in front of Loki’s door, his heart thudding with a mix of nerves and excitement. After the confrontation with Dumbledore, Harry had been thinking a lot about Loki’s display of power. It had been precise, controlled, and, most importantly, protective. He wanted to learn from someone who understood both the destructive and safeguarding aspects of magic. With his dad’s less than reluctant approval, Harry knocked.

The door opened after a few seconds, and Harry blinked in surprise. Loki stood there, but not in his usual Asgardian attire or even the sharp, tailored clothing he seemed to favour. Instead, the god was dressed in sweatpants and a loose shirt, the casualness of it so unexpected that Harry took a step back to double-check he hadn’t knocked on the wrong door.

“Ah, little mage,” Loki greeted, his tone light and amused. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Harry hesitated, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “I was hoping… uh, I was wondering if you’d be willing to teach me some magic?” He shifted on his feet. “You offered before, and after yesterday, with what you did… it was really cool. And, um, I thought maybe you could teach me your type of magic?”

Loki’s sharp gaze softened, though he masked it quickly. “Of course I can,” he said, a faint smile curling his lips. “Although what I accomplished yesterday took centuries of practice. Do not expect such feats overnight. But we will get there… in due time.”

Harry’s face lit up, the nervous energy replaced by excitement. “Awesome! Thank you, Uncle Loki! Let’s go to the training floor!” With that, he spun on his heel and dashed down the hall, his eagerness carrying him away before Loki could even respond.

The god remained rooted in place for a moment, blinking as the words registered. Uncle Loki. The title hung in the air, unexpected and unfamiliar. From what he had observed, Harry hadn’t referred to any of the Avengers as “uncle” or “aunt.” Tony was the only one who held a familial title in the boy’s life—Dad.

A strange warmth blossomed in Loki’s chest, catching him entirely off guard. He had not known the boy for long, yet Harry had already bestowed this title upon him. Why? Loki could not fathom the reasoning, but he found he didn’t care to question it. The warmth remained, a quiet but undeniable ember.

A rare, genuine smile broke across Loki’s face. He would teach the boy everything he knew. He would guide him, train him, and ensure that his magic would be a source of strength rather than fear. And heaven help anyone who tried to harm this child, for they would answer to the god of Mischief himself.

His resolve firm, Loki stepped out of his room and followed after Harry, the smile still lingering on his lips. The training would begin, and he would ensure that Harry Potter became a mage to be reckoned with.

~~~~

Tony was hunched over a glowing display table, the holographic files on Hydra and the Winter Soldier flickering before him. Next to him, Steve stood just as intently focused, his brows furrowed with concentration. Jarvis had compiled every shred of information they had on Bucky Barnes, but as the two of them sifted through the data, Tony’s mind wandered.

He had also sent his magical assistant to consult with the goblins and investigate any potential magical leads. It was a long shot, and given it was the weekend, Tony didn’t expect any updates right away. Still, every avenue had to be explored. If there was any chance that Harry had another living relative, even one as complicated as Bucky, Tony was determined to find him, even if the man had killed his parents.

Beside him, Steve’s breathing was steady but close, the warmth of it brushing against Tony’s neck as they worked. Tony swallowed and willed his thoughts to stay professional. The proximity was fine. Perfectly fine. Nothing to dwell on.

Steve, on the other hand, was not doing much better. He was keenly aware of how close Tony was. Too close. Steve kept his gaze fixed on the display, but his mind betrayed him, wandering to things it had no business considering. He was definitely not attracted to the way Tony’s hair fell into his face when he was focused. Or the way Tony’s mouth pursed in thought, frustration etched into his features.

No. Steve Rogers was not attracted to Tony Stark. He was a straight man, and he had been his whole life. Even though it was perfectly fine for others to be otherwise these days, he was definitely a heterosexual man. And Tony was the son of Howard Stark, his old friend and ally. Thinking of him in any other way was out of the question.

Steve’s jaw tightened as he forced himself back to the files, even as his cheeks burned with a slight blush.

Tony glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, you okay there, Cap?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Yeah, just… It’s frustrating that we don’t have more to go on. I can’t stop thinking about what Bucky’s been through.”

Tony exhaled, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t. Don’t go down that road, Steve. Focus on the now. The goblins said he’s in stasis. He’s alive, and he’s going to be fine. When we find him, we’ve got all the resources we need- medical, magical, and otherwise. We’ll help him.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed slightly under Tony’s hand. “Thanks, Tones,” he said softly, his voice laced with gratitude.

Tony offered him a small, reassuring smile, though his own heart stuttered in response. “Yeah, well, you’d do the same for me. Let’s not get mushy about it.”

Steve chuckled, the tension between them lightening just a fraction.

Tony stepped back, gesturing toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go track down the assassin twins and see what kind of trouble Harry and Loki are getting into. Knowing those two, it’s either magic lessons or something that’s going to give me a migraine.”

Steve nodded, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You know they’ll rope us into it if it’s the latter.”

“Oh, without a doubt,” Tony quipped, already heading out the door.

The two of them left the room, their shared determination to find Bucky keeping them grounded despite the unspoken undercurrents between them. For now, there were other distractions, and a chaotic teenager with a Norse god for a teacher was a good place to start.

Chapter Text

Tuesday morning brought clear skies and a crisp breeze, the perfect setting for Steve’s morning run. His feet pounded rhythmically against the pavement; the world around him reduced to the steady cadence of his breaths and the thrum of his thoughts.

He couldn’t stop replaying the conversation he’d had with Tony about Bucky. Well, not the conversation itself, but the man he’d had it with. Tony’s voice, his presence, the intensity in his gaze when he spoke about helping Bucky; it all lingered.

Steve’s feelings were a tangled mess. He was undeniably drawn to Tony, and that scared him. He’d always considered himself a man who liked women; Peggy’s memory was sacred to him. The idea of being attracted to another man, especially Howard Stark’s son, was uncharted territory.

The world had changed, he knew that. In the 21st century, people love who they love without fear or shame. But Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that this freedom wasn’t meant for him. He was a relic from another time, out of step with the world around him, and the thought of exploring these feelings made him uneasy.

As he ran, Steve resolved to push these thoughts aside. Tony was a good friend, and Steve would keep it that way.

His instincts, honed through years of war and battle, suddenly kicked in. A tingle of unease crept down his spine. He slowed his pace slightly, scanning his surroundings. Everything looked normal, but something was off. He picked up his speed again, hoping to avoid whatever trouble his gut was warning him about.

That hope was short-lived.

A tall figure appeared in front of him, seemingly out of thin air. Steve came to an abrupt halt, his body tense and ready for a fight.

“Dumbledore,” Steve said, his voice wary. The sight of the older wizard stirred memories of the war. They had crossed paths briefly during Hydra’s reign, though Steve hadn’t known him well. Now, his opinion of the man was solidly in the gutter after learning how he’d treated Harry.

“Steven, my boy,” Dumbledore greeted him with a warm, grandfatherly tone that didn’t match the steel in his eyes. “Might I have a moment of your time?”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “It’s Captain Rogers,” he replied coolly. “And I don’t see what we have to talk about.”

Dumbledore’s expression didn’t waver. “I’m only here because I worry for Harry. He would be far safer at Hogwarts, where the magic surrounding the castle can protect him.”

Steve’s fists clenched. “Safer?” he repeated, his voice low but laced with anger. “You mean so you can get to him and use him as you please. Harry’s a child, Dumbledore. Not a weapon.”

The older wizard’s twinkle dimmed, replaced by a hard edge. “Harry must be the one to defeat Voldemort,” he said, his tone growing sharper.

Steve took a step closer, his imposing figure towering over Dumbledore. “Harry is not going to risk his life because you can’t handle your own damn problems. One power-hungry wizard is your mess, not his. We’re going to protect him, and we’re going to make sure he never has to see a battlefield again.”

Their voices had risen, and they were now full-on arguing on the side of the street. Passersby began to stop, eyes wide as they recognized Captain America embroiled in a heated exchange with a stranger.

“Harry’s destiny is tied to Voldemort’s!” Dumbledore snapped, his tone losing its usual calm veneer.

Steve took another step forward, his voice like thunder. “No one decides Harry’s destiny but Harry. And if you come near him again, you’ll regret it. That’s not a threat; it’s a promise.”

Phones came out as the growing crowd recorded the confrontation. Dumbledore glanced around, clearly noticing the attention they were drawing. Steve’s gaze didn’t waver; his piercing blue eyes locked on the wizard.

“The prophecy demands that Harry is the one who will fight Voldemort! The man will not be defeated otherwise,” Dumbledore insisted, his voice sharp and commanding, cutting through the growing noise of the gathered crowd.

Steve glared at him, his stance firm and unyielding. “You, of all people, should know that prophecies only have power if you believe in them. Without belief, they’re just mumbled words; nothing more than guesswork that may or may not come to pass.”

Dumbledore’s expression hardened, his usual twinkle replaced by an unsettling intensity. “This one is different,” he argued. “The words are too accurate to be dismissed as gibberish nonsense. The Dark Lord himself declared the prophecy true when he went after Harry, marking him as his equal with the killing curse.”

The crowd around them was growing, a curious audience murmuring and pointing as they tried to piece together the context of the heated exchange. Phones were raised, recording the scene.

Steve’s jaw clenched as anger surged through him. “Dumbledore, you’re a fucking lunatic!” he snapped, his voice cutting through the buzz of whispers. “Do you not see how deranged you’ve become? You put magical blocks on a child! You stunted his abilities; he was just a baby! Do you have any idea how much damage you could’ve done to him?”

Dumbledore’s gaze remained defiant. “It was necessary,” he said coldly. “That child’s magic could have grown unstable. Without those blocks, we could have been dealing with another Dark wizard running loose in my school. I made my choice for the greater good. Hogwarts will not teach another Dark Lord.”

Steve took a step forward, his voice shaking with barely restrained fury. “Magic isn’t dark or light; it’s the choices people make that define it. Don’t you dare put your failures onto others. Harry is a child, not a weapon, and—”

Before Steve could finish, a series of loud pops erupted around them, the sound like firecrackers going off in rapid succession. The crowd froze in place, their phones and shocked expressions locked in time as though they were statues. A group of men and women in red-and-black uniforms appeared, their presence radiating authority. They surrounded Steve and Dumbledore, their wands raised in readiness.

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” one of the newcomers declared, stepping forward with a commanding voice, “you are hereby under arrest for breaching the Statute of Secrecy. You openly displayed magic and discussed magical affairs in the presence of Muggles. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Dumbledore’s face twisted with rage as he fought against the magic suppression cuffs they clamped onto his wrists. “What about him?” he snarled, nodding toward Steve. “He was also openly discussing magic!”

The auror didn’t so much as blink. “Captain Rogers did not initiate the conversation,” they said coolly. “Nor did he display magic. He is not guilty of breaking the law. He may be called in for questioning, but that will be for the Wizengamot to decide. For now, focus on your own rights, Dumbledore. I will remind you again that anything you say can and will be used against you.”

Steve crossed his arms, glaring at Dumbledore as the cuffs clicked into place.

Another auror turned to him, their expression more neutral. “Captain Rogers, you are free to leave. However, we advise you to do so immediately, as you may be affected by the memory charms we will cast shortly to contain the breach.”

Steve gave them a curt nod. “Thanks. Good luck dealing with him.” He turned and jogged away, his pace faster than before as adrenaline coursed through him.

By the time he reached the tower, his mind was racing. The confrontation, Dumbledore’s audacity, the sheer spectacle of the arrest, it all churned in his thoughts like a storm. One thing was certain: Tony and Harry needed to hear about this.

Steve stepped into the elevator, rubbing a hand over his face as he prepared to tell them everything that had just gone down.

~~~~

Harry heard about Steve’s encounter with Dumbledore after finishing his lessons for the day. At first, he didn’t know how to react. He wasn’t angry, not exactly, but there was a hollow, aching weight in his chest. Retreating to his room, he shut the door behind him and sank onto his bed.

Dumbledore had been someone he once admired, someone he had trusted. To hear that the man had placed blocks on his magic, not for Harry’s safety but out of fear that he might become evil, felt like a betrayal so deep it left him untethered. He curled into himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees as if trying to hold himself together.

He felt wetness gather at the corners of his eyes, and despite his best efforts, a tear slipped free. Before he could stop them, more followed. He buried his face against his arms, silent sobs shaking his small frame. He had promised himself long ago that he wouldn’t cry anymore, that he wouldn’t let himself be weak again. But here he was, breaking that promise as his chest ached, and his heart felt raw.

He didn’t hear the door creak open or the soft footsteps approaching his bed. He only realized someone else was there when the mattress dipped under another weight, and he was pulled into warm, secure arms.

“It’s alright, Harry,” came Tony’s voice, low and soothing as he gently rubbed his son’s back. “I’ll make sure that man never gets to you again. I promise.”

At those words, Harry broke completely. His sobs, quiet before, turned loud and wrenching as he clung to Tony, every emotion from the past few days crashing down on him all at once. The betrayal, the fear, the overwhelming sense of loss, all of it poured out in his tears.

Tony held him close, one hand cradling the back of Harry’s head while the other continued its soothing motions along his back. He didn’t say anything more, letting his presence and touch speak for him. Seeing Harry like this, so vulnerable, so hurt, was like a knife to his chest.

Tony’s mind swirled with anger at Dumbledore. The man had dared to harm his son, dared to treat him like some kind of tool rather than a person. The old wizard would regret crossing a Stark. No one messed with his family and walked away unscathed.

Eventually, Harry’s sobs subsided into soft hiccups, his body exhausted from crying. He remained in Tony’s arms, feeling the warmth and steady rhythm of his dad’s heartbeat. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe, not the fleeting kind of safety that could be taken away, but something solid and unyielding.

“Thanks, Dad,” Harry whispered, his voice hoarse but sincere. He tightened his grip on Tony, grateful for the unwavering support he’d found in him. Harry didn’t know what he had done to deserve this kind of love and care, but he was thankful for it all the same.

Tony pressed a kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “Anytime, kiddo. I’m here for you. Always.”

In that moment, Harry made a decision. He was done letting anyone control his life or shape his destiny. He wasn’t a weapon, a tool, or a pawn in someone else’s plans. He was Harry Stark, and with his dad by his side, he knew he’d never have to face anything alone again.

~~~~

Sirius was currently staying at Newt Scamander’s home—though calling it a “house” might have been generous. The small living area was overshadowed by the sprawling, magical habitats that filled most of the space, each designed to care for creatures of every size and temperament. Sirius didn’t mind. The work gave him something to focus on. He helped with chores, primarily feeding the less dangerous animals, and in return, he had a comfortable guest room and a roof over his head.

That morning, Sirius was eating a modest breakfast at the kitchen table while Newt sat across from him, sipping tea. The peaceful quiet was broken by the arrival of a tawny owl swooping in through the open window, clutching the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

Sirius barely glanced at it, more focused on his plate, but Newt unfolded the paper and immediately froze, his teacup trembling in his hand.

“What is it?” Sirius asked, frowning at the man’s reaction.

Newt didn’t respond at first, his wide eyes fixed on the headline. His grip on the paper tightened, and Sirius could see a mix of shock and grim satisfaction crossing the older man’s face. Finally, Newt slid the newspaper across the table.

Sirius leaned forward, his brows furrowing as he read the headline:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE – ARRESTED BY MACUSA FOR BREACHING THE STATUTE OF SECRECY

Beneath it, the article continued:

Albus Dumbledore, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock, and Hogwarts Headmaster, was taken into custody earlier this week after engaging in a conversation about magic with a Muggle in a public space. Several Muggles overheard the exchange before MACUSA intervened, erasing their memories of the incident. Sources close to the investigation say Dumbledore’s actions are in clear violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. His trial date has not yet been announced.

Sirius sat back in his chair, staring at the words as if they might rearrange themselves into something more plausible. He felt a jolt of disbelief. “What the hell was he thinking?” he muttered.

Newt, who had remained quiet, finally set his teacup down with a soft sigh.

Sirius turned to him, still trying to process the news. “You know Dumbledore, don’t you?”

Newt nodded, his expression turning sombre. “Yes, he was my professor at Hogwarts. Brilliant man, no doubt, but… flawed.”

“Flawed how?” Sirius pressed.

Newt hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “He has a habit of treating people as chess pieces, tools to further his plans. He once tried to involve me in his war efforts, urging me to fight for his cause. It wasn’t until public pressure mounted that he took on the responsibility himself. Even then, he prefers to remain at arm’s length until there’s glory to be claimed or no other option left.”

Sirius frowned, his opinion of Dumbledore beginning to shift. He had always respected the man, but Newt’s words cast a shadow over that respect.

“So, you’re not surprised by this?” Sirius asked, gesturing to the paper.

“Not at all,” Newt said with a rueful smile. “He’s always believed himself to be above the law, insulated by his titles and reputation. But no one can avoid consequences forever.”

Sirius stared down at his plate, his appetite gone. He had been considering reaching out to Dumbledore for help, perhaps for guidance or resources. But now, he wasn’t so sure. Newt’s insight, combined with the stark reality of the headline, painted a very different picture of the man Sirius had once held in such high regard.

Maybe it was better to keep his distance. Whatever he decided, Sirius knew one thing for sure: Albus Dumbledore wasn’t the infallible figure he had once believed him to be.

Chapter Text

By Friday, Harry’s new determination had him fully immersed in his studies. He was making strides with his lessons and even surprising himself with how quickly he was picking things up. So, when he walked into the lounge after a lesson and saw a man he didn’t recognize standing there, he froze.

The man wasn’t part of the Avengers; Harry knew all of them by now. He was dressed sharply, exuding an air of authority and familiarity, and was staring at Harry as if trying to piece him together. Intrigued, Harry couldn’t help but inch closer, his curiosity outweighing his caution.

The two locked eyes in an unspoken challenge, and Harry felt a flicker of competitiveness. If this stranger wanted to stare him down, he was game.

The standoff might have continued indefinitely had Tony not walked into the room. He paused, taking in the scene of his son and his best friend locked in what could only be described as a silent staring match. Tony sighed, already imagining how long this could go on. Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room.

Both heads snapped toward him, the spell broken. Harry’s face lit up in an instant, and he rushed to Tony’s side, his smaller frame ducking behind his dad as though seeking cover.

“Dad!” Harry exclaimed, peeking out from behind Tony and shooting the stranger a wary glare.

“Dad?” the man asked, eyebrows arching in surprise as he gave Tony a questioning look.

Tony winced. “Platypus! Honey Bear! How’ve you been? Look, I’ve been meaning to call you, but things have been… complicated.” He gestured vaguely. “Anyway, this is my son, Harry. Harry, meet my best friend, Rhodey.”

Harry blinked, stepping out from behind Tony to get a better look at the man. “Your best friend?” he repeated innocently, his tone sweet but his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I thought Steve was your best friend?”

Tony shot Harry a sharp look, though he couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride at his son’s cheekiness. The timing, however, left a lot to be desired.

“Tony,” Rhodey started, his voice heavy with disappointment.

“Look, Rhodey, no one could ever replace you!” Tony blurted, his words tumbling over each other. “Steve’s just… Well, he came with me to fetch Harry, but that doesn’t mean anything! You’re still my best friend, my Platypus, my Sour Patch!”

Rhodey crossed his arms, fixing Tony with a long, pointed stare. “Tony,” he said slowly, “has it really been that long since we talked?”

“Rhodey, no,” Tony said, his voice edging toward desperation. “I swear, I was going to call you. But then the surgery happened, and with Harry—”

“Surgery?” Rhodey cut in, concern overtaking his expression. “Tony, what happened? Are you okay?”

Tony waved his hands in front of him as if trying to dismiss the worry. “No, no, nothing bad! It was to remove the shrapnel. I figured I couldn’t exactly stay a walking time bomb now that I’ve got a kid to look after.”

Rhodey’s shoulders relaxed, though his concern lingered. “You should’ve told me, Tones. I mean, I’m feeling a little left out here, but I’m glad you’re okay. I think it's due time for us to sit down and catch up.”

Tony grinned, relief washing over him. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Come on.” He turned to Harry, raising an eyebrow. “And you, don’t think I didn’t notice that sass. You’ve been hanging around the assassin twins and Loki way too much.”

Harry smirked, sticking his tongue out. “Pretty sure it’s just because I’m your kid.”

Tony ruffled Harry’s hair affectionately before leading them all into the kitchen. The three of them settled at the table while Tony made drinks. Harry mostly listened as Tony and Rhodey talked, offering occasional input with a quip or two that earned a laugh.

By the end of the conversation, the tension between Tony and Rhodey had eased, their usual banter flowing freely. Rhodey made Tony promise to keep him updated on everything happening at the Tower.

As they wrapped up, Harry couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement for the weekend. He had lessons with both Clint and Loki to look forward to, each of them having claimed one day to teach him their unique skills. Harry smiled to himself, already imagining what he’d learn next.

~~~~

The weekend flew by for the Stark family, and by Sunday evening, Rhodey was on his way back home. He’d spent his visit getting to know Harry and catching up with Tony, though he hadn’t been particularly impressed by the miniature Iron Man suit he had built for Harry. His reaction had been a mix of scepticism and concern until Tony reassured him it was purely for defence.

“No more action,” Tony had emphasised, his voice firm with determination. “Harry’s been through enough. I’m not letting him anywhere near danger.”

Rhodey hadn’t pressed the issue further but had left with an understanding of how deeply Tony’s protective instincts ran. They’d chosen not to tell Rhodey about magic just yet. Tony felt it wasn’t his secret to share, and Harry was still getting to know the man. Although the two had gotten along reasonably well, their rapport was nothing like Harry’s easy camaraderie with the other Avengers, or even Loki, who had somehow wormed his way into their unconventional family.

Still, something lingered in the air. Tony couldn’t ignore how subdued Harry had been since the confrontation with Dumbledore.

At first, Tony had been worried the incident had cast too long a shadow over his son. But slowly, Harry began to return to his usual self, throwing himself back into his studies with single-minded determination.

For Harry, immersing himself in learning was a lifeline. His lessons were structured, clear, and entirely under his control, unlike the chaos that had defined much of his life before. Hogwarts had offered knowledge, yes, but with strings attached; its focus always tied to expectations and manipulations. Now, he was free to study for his own sake, and he intended to make the most of it.

The weeks passed in a blur of lessons and practice. September faded, giving way to October, a time Tony gleefully declared the “spooky season.” Decorations began popping up around the tower, courtesy of Clint, who had an absurd love for Halloween. Pumpkins, fake cobwebs, and rubber bats seemed to appear overnight, to Harry’s quiet amusement.

But despite the festive atmosphere, Harry couldn’t bring himself to share the excitement. Halloween was a complicated day for him. At Hogwarts, it had been a day of celebration, yet in the shadows of his memories lay the tragedy that had shaped his entire life. His parents’ deaths had hung over every Halloween like a dark cloud, and now, even with a new life, the date felt heavy with dread.

Thankfully, it was only the start of the month. He pushed the thoughts aside, burying himself in his studies.

Tony, for his part, marvelled at Harry’s progress. His son absorbed knowledge like a sponge, mastering subjects with astonishing speed. Teachers praised Harry’s work ethic and intelligence, and they wouldn’t have been surprised if he surpassed his current grade level before the school year ended.

“Just like his old man,” Tony would say with a proud grin whenever someone mentioned Harry’s achievements. “Only, you know, smarter, especially with the magic bit.”

Pepper had started making more frequent visits to the tower, though her appearances were brief and tentative. Tony’s words during their argument had clearly stuck with her, and she’d been forced to confront her mistakes.

One afternoon, she passed Harry in the corridor, her steps faltering for a moment. She offered him a soft smile and a tentative, “Hello, Harry.”

To her relief, Harry smiled back, though the interaction had been brief. Pepper doubted she would ever have the same close bond with him as the others did, but she accepted that. She’d been wrong, and she knew it.

Later, watching Harry animatedly explain his lessons to Tony, she saw just how alike father and son were, how Harry’s passion mirrored Tony’s in every way. She could see now what she had missed before: Harry was more than just Tony’s son. He was a Stark through and through.

~~~~

Tony was deeply engrossed in his work alongside Natasha, their shared goal focused on finding Bucky Barnes. Steve had been sent out to follow leads on the ground, but when he wasn’t in the field, he was heavily involved in analysing any new information they uncovered. The search had proven frustratingly elusive. Even the goblins, whom Tony had reluctantly agreed to involve, given their unique resources, admitted their own magical tracking efforts were being disrupted. They suspected that wizards might have been involved in whatever had happened to Bucky.

The scant evidence they had on the Winter Soldier had been painstakingly pieced together. Jarvis was currently decrypting the latest batch of data retrieved from an old Hydra bunker, a lead that had also pointed them to an abandoned Red Room facility. Natasha had led the infiltration team through the remnants of the base, her demeanour more guarded than usual.

“Sir, the decrypted information is ready for review,” Jarvis’s voice cut through the tense silence of the room.

“Finally,” Tony muttered, straightening up. Holographic projections filled the air, displaying a series of photos, videos, and documents. The images flickered with decades-old shadows of Hydra’s operations and, to Tony’s unease, faint Red Room connections.

Natasha stood still as she scanned the images, her expression tightening. One photo, in particular, seemed to root her to the spot.

“Nat?” Steve asked, his sharp eyes catching the tension in her posture.

For a moment, Natasha said nothing, her gaze locked on the image. She finally spoke, her voice quieter than usual. “I know him. He was one of my trainers in the Red Room.”

Her words landed heavily in the room. Steve took a step closer, his brows furrowing in concern. “What else do you know, Natasha?”

A brief flicker of hesitation crossed her face before she answered, her tone carefully controlled. “We were... involved.”

The admission was met with stunned silence. Tony blinked, pausing mid-reach for his coffee. “Wait—romantically?”

Natasha nodded, though she kept her eyes trained on the hologram. “It was a long time ago, near the end of my training. I didn’t know who he really was back then; none of us did. His handler controlled every part of his life. One day, they took him away, and I never saw him again.”

Steve took a step closer, his jaw tight. “Did he ever tell you anything that could help us? Places he’d been, details about his missions?”

“No,” Natasha said, shaking her head slowly. “Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t. They wiped his memories after every mission and whenever he was moved between bases. He didn’t even remember who he was before they took him. It was like watching someone live as a shadow of themselves.”

The room was silent as her words settled over them. Tony finally broke the tension, clearing his throat. “Okay, so we’ve got something to work with now. A name, a face, and some connections. That’s better than nothing.”

Steve nodded, though his expression remained grim. “We’ll start cross-referencing this with Hydra’s other records and the Red Room’s files. There’s got to be a pattern, some way to figure out where he might be now.”

“We’ll find him,” Natasha said firmly, her usual confidence returning to her voice. Whatever emotion had surfaced earlier was now tucked away, replaced by a steely determination.

Tony clapped his hands together, trying to inject some levity into the room. “That’s the spirit. Team Stark-Rogers-Romanoff, we’ve got this. We’ll find Barnes, mark my words.”

Natasha’s lips twitched in the faintest of smiles as she straightened her shoulders. “We will. It’s just a matter of time.”

The trio exchanged a look of shared resolve, the weight of the mission momentarily buoyed by their collective determination. But even as the room settled into the quiet hum of renewed focus, Natasha’s gaze lingered on the photograph, the past haunting her thoughts more deeply than she let on.

~~~~

Harry was practising his magic under Loki’s watchful eye, the god lounging nearby with an air of casual superiority. Loki’s occasional pointers were sharp and precise, offering insight whenever Harry stumbled over a spell. Despite admitting that Harry’s magic was unfamiliar to him, Loki had noted certain similarities to spells he had once studied. Intrigued, the god had even begun exploring Harry’s brand of magic on his own time.

This particular afternoon, Loki was engrossed in a thick, weathered book written in a script Harry didn’t recognise. Its runes seemed to shimmer faintly, a hint of magic woven into the text itself. Harry’s curiosity was piqued, but not enough to distract him from his wandwork, at least until an odd sound pulled his focus.

A sharp, almost melodic hissing sound came from Loki. Harry froze, his head snapping toward the god, who continued to hiss softly, his tones shifting with an almost musical rhythm. The hisses seemed purposeful, deliberate, and Harry realised he could hear fragments of something familiar, words hidden in the cadence of the sounds.

“Are you a Parselmouth?” Harry asked, astonished, his wand lowering slightly.

Loki glanced up from his book, one elegant brow arched. “A what, now?”

“Parseltongue,” Harry clarified. “You’re speaking the language of snakes. You can talk to them?”

Loki smirked, setting the book aside. “Ah, not quite. I am not naturally fluent in this serpent language you speak of. But,” he added, with an air of self-satisfaction, “I can shapeshift. I simply altered my tongue, throat, and vocal cords to mimic the structure needed for snake-speech. A simple enough feat for one such as myself.”

Harry’s excitement dimmed. “Oh.” He had hoped, just for a moment, that he’d found someone else who shared his unusual ability, someone who wouldn’t treat it like a curse or a stigma.

Noticing the boy’s disappointment, Loki leaned forward slightly, his tone curious. “So you can speak this language naturally? Without shifting your form?”

“Yes,” Harry admitted. “But I don’t know how it works. It just… happens.”

“Fascinating,” Loki mused, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “And can you perform magic through it?”

Harry hesitated. “I think I should be able to, but… the headmaster at my old school placed a block on me. It stops me from doing Parselmagic. I was told I could break it by casting spells in Parseltongue, but I haven’t been able to get the books on it yet.”

“Books?” Loki’s interest sharpened instantly. “You know where to find such texts?”

“Yes, they’re in one of my vaults. But I’d need to retrieve them first.”

Loki’s lips curved into a pleased smile. “If I were to take you, would you retrieve them?”

“Sure,” Harry said with a shrug, though he quickly added, “I’d have to ask my dad first, but I don’t mind.”

Loki nodded, clearly already making plans. “Excellent. The sooner we acquire those books, the better.”

There was a gleam of anticipation in Loki’s eyes now, the kind Harry had come to associate with the god’s unrelenting curiosity. Loki had taken to his time on Midgard with an enthusiasm that surprised even himself, and Harry had become a particularly compelling enigma to him.

As they resumed their lesson, Loki’s thoughts drifted. He had begun to feel a growing attachment to the young wizard, a desire to see Harry reach his full potential. Perhaps, in time, Harry might even become his apprentice. But for now, there was much to learn for both of them.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Harry sat at the breakfast counter, fixing his dad with the most pitiful expression he could muster. His green eyes were wide, his bottom lip slightly jutting out—a perfected look of innocent pleading.

Tony, for his part, stubbornly refused to look up from his tablet. “You can stop with the puppy-dog eyes, kid. Not working today.”

“Please, Dad!” Harry begged, leaning forward with urgency. “It won’t take long, just a quick trip! In and out before you know it, I promise!”

Tony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He knew this battle was already lost. “Fine,” he relented, dropping the tablet onto the counter. “But, and I cannot stress this enough, Loki is to do nothing except escort you to the bank and back. No side quests, no theatrics, no weird magic experiments. Are we clear?”

Harry’s face lit up as he sprang from his seat, throwing his arms around Tony. “Yes! You’re the best… you know that, right?”

“Sure,” Tony muttered, half under his breath, as he patted Harry’s back. “But only when you want something.”

Harry was already halfway to the elevator, practically vibrating with excitement. “Thanks, Dad!”

Tony watched his son dart off, sighing heavily before pulling out his phone. “Happy? I need you to take Loki and Harry to the bank. And make sure neither of them burns it down. Or takes over the country. Or… just keep them out of trouble, alright?”

~~~~

Happy drove them to Gringotts with his usual stoic professionalism, though his sharp gaze darted toward Loki every so often, clearly wary. The god, however, seemed to find amusement in the man’s tension, a sly smile playing on his lips as they arrived at the towering, marble bank.

The goblins, initially startled by Loki’s presence, quickly masked their surprise and carried on with their characteristic efficiency. Loki, for his part, adapted swiftly to the goblins’ formal customs, inclining his head just enough to convey respect while still holding his usual air of regal detachment.

Harry watched the exchanges closely, a mixture of awe and relief washing over him as the goblins began retrieving the items he’d requested. He’d been worried that Loki’s natural arrogance might offend them, but the god seemed to take the entire affair in stride, even offering quiet observations about the architecture and magical wards as they waited.

When the goblins finally returned, they presented a stack of five ancient-looking books bound in cracked leather and embossed with faintly glowing runes. Harry’s breath hitched slightly as he reached out to touch one of the covers, his fingers grazing the cool surface.

“These are yours,” the goblin announced, his voice low and gravely.

Harry nodded, too awed to speak, as Loki reached out to lift the books into his arms. The god cast an appraising glance at the tomes before turning to Harry. “Shall we?”

~~~~

The pile of five ancient books sat between them on the floor of the training room, their presence commanding attention like a silent challenge. Harry and Loki stared at the pile, then at each other, neither willing to make the first move.

Harry crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow in defiance. Loki mirrored the gesture, his expression smug. The god had faced far more obstinate opponents, Thor came to mind, and had no intention of losing this particular battle. Harry, however, had years of suppressing impulses behind him, the result of his less-than-ideal upbringing. His patience was formidable.

The stalemate might have lasted indefinitely had Steve not walked into the room. He stopped short, looking between the two of them and the untouched books. His brow furrowed.

“You’ve been in here for half an hour,” Steve said, hands on his hips. “Is this what you’ve been doing the whole time?”

Neither Harry nor Loki acknowledged him until Steve cleared his throat pointedly. Both turned to him in unison, their synchronised irritation almost comical.

“So… anything interesting happening in your little circle over there?” Steve ventured with a wry smile, hoping to cut through the tension.

Loki rolled his eyes, breaking the silence. “We were engaged in an intense battle of wills before you ruined it, Captain. The matter of who would open the first book remains undecided.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You’re a supposedly all-powerful god, and you’re afraid of opening a book?” His tone dripped with sarcasm.

Loki let out a sharp, disgruntled sound. “Fine.” He reached for the top book, flipping it open with an exaggerated flourish.

The text was incomprehensible at first, just swirling lines and shapes, but Loki’s Allspeak quickly made sense of the runes. His face twisted in distaste as he scanned the pages. “Ugh. Of course.”

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, leaning forward in curiosity.

“The title is Understanding the Purity of Parseltongue to Understand Blood Purity.” Loki’s voice was dripping with disdain. “It’s a sanctimonious ramble about the so-called ‘purity’ of the language. Completely useless drivel.”

Harry grimaced. “Glad I didn’t grab that one.” He reached for the next book in the pile and grinned when he saw the title: An Introduction to Parselmagic: Foundations and Practical Uses. He cracked it open eagerly, scanning the first few lines.

Loki peered over Harry’s shoulder, his mood souring further when he realised the boy had snagged the better book. Not wanting to be left out, Loki shifted closer, awkwardly scooting across the floor until he was seated next to Harry.

Steve, who had been watching from the doorway, chuckled softly at the sight. It wasn’t every day you saw the God of Mischief bum-shuffling across the floor like an impatient child. Harry didn’t seem to notice, already engrossed in the book, but Steve caught the faintest hint of a pout on Loki’s face.

Shaking his head in amusement, Steve left them to it. He’d barely made it to the hallway when a strange hissing sound reached his ears. He paused, frowning, just as a loud pop echoed through the room, followed by the unmistakable crash of thick glass shattering.

Steve spun on his heel and rushed back inside. His jaw dropped at the sight before him. A snake, its scales shimmering in iridescent hues, coiled on the floor in front of Loki, who looked more intrigued than alarmed. Harry, however, was lying sprawled on the floor, his eyes half-closed and his face pale.

“What the hell happened?” Steve demanded, dropping to his knees beside Harry.

Loki’s expression was calm, though his sharp gaze betrayed concern. “It seems the block on his magic, the one preventing him from practising Parselmagic. has been shattered. Likely a result of attempting to cast a spell from that book.”

Steve checked Harry’s pulse, relieved to find it steady. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Loki assured him, his tone measured. “His magic is… readjusting. It’s a natural reaction after such a restriction has been forcibly removed.”

Steve didn’t look entirely convinced. “I’m calling Tony.”

“That would be wise,” Loki replied absently. With a flick of his wrist, a glowing barrier of magic encased the snake in a makeshift glass cage. The serpent, clearly no ordinary creature, hissed softly as its tongue flicked out, tasting the air.

Loki shifted Harry gently so the boy’s head rested in his lap. He began running his fingers through Harry’s unruly hair, his movements surprisingly tender. The god’s gaze softened, a hint of something unspoken flickering in his expression.

Steve raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic display of affection. “Didn’t think you were the nurturing type.”

Loki’s lips twitched, but he didn’t look up. “When I was young, my mother did this for me whenever I overextended myself. It seems appropriate.” His voice was quieter now, almost contemplative.

Steve nodded slowly, stepping aside to make the call to Tony. Meanwhile, Loki continued his gentle ministrations, his mind already turning over the possibilities this breakthrough in Harry’s magic might hold.

~~~~

Tony hurried down the hallway, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. When he entered the training room, the sight of Loki seated calmly on the floor, Harry’s head cradled in his lap, made him exhale a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Relief surged through him, though it was quickly followed by a simmering concern.

Loki glanced up as Tony approached, his expression unreadable, and gestured for him to join them on the floor.

“He’s fine,” Loki said in a steady, soothing tone. “His magic is recalibrating itself after breaking a block. Considering it’s been there for more than ten years, his magic has quite a bit of catching up to do.”

Tony knelt beside them, studying his son’s pale but peaceful face. “Do you know which block broke?”

Loki tilted his head, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. “He had more than one?” he asked, his voice low but laced with growing anger.

Tony nodded, his gaze shifting to Harry. “Yeah, there were several. Some are gone now, but there’s one his mother placed on him. That one was meant to protect him as a toddler, his magic core was too large for him to handle safely. The other was Dumbledore’s doing, suppressing Harry’s ability to perform Parselmagic. He broke the block when speaking Parseltongue this past year.”

Loki’s brows furrowed, his fingers briefly stilling where they’d been carding through Harry’s hair. “There were others?” His tone was deceptively calm, though his eyes darkened.

Tony hesitated, weighing the god’s reaction. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “There was a Horcrux inside Harry.”

The air seemed to shift, the temperature around them dropping as Loki went utterly still. His sharp intake of breath was the only sound for several beats. “A Horcrux?” Loki said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet seething with contained fury. “That vile magic is forbidden even among the darkest realms. Who dared place such a thing inside a child?”

“Voldemort,” Tony answered grimly. “But it’s gone now. Destroyed by basilisk venom and neutralized by phoenix tears. Harry doesn’t even remember it being there.”

Loki’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening slightly against Harry’s unruly hair before he forced himself to relax. “And the rest of these blocks?” he asked coldly.

“Dumbledore,” Tony said simply. He didn’t miss the dangerous glint in Loki’s eyes. “The one that broke today was Dumbledore’s, the one suppressing Harry’s ability to perform Parselmagic.”

A low, venomous hiss escaped Loki. His eyes turned an unnatural shade of black, and a faint shimmer of golden magic flickered around him. Tony had seen Loki angry before, but this was something else, a silent, icy rage that promised retribution.

“I swear,” Loki said, his voice dangerously low, “those men will answer for what they’ve done. A prophecy does not excuse their crimes. Not even fate has the right to harm a child.”

Tony placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder, grounding him. “Focus on Harry right now. He’s okay. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

Loki exhaled sharply, the black receding from his eyes as he nodded. “You’re right.” After a pause, he added, “He’ll need to rest in a proper bed. He should recover fully in a few hours, a day at most.”

Tony carefully leaned forward and scooped Harry into his arms. His son stirred faintly but didn’t wake, his head lolling against Tony’s chest. Tony smiled softly, noticing the weight Harry had gained since their first meeting. Back then, the boy had been little more than skin and bones.

“Thanks, Loki,” Tony said quietly. “For helping him. For staying calm.”

Loki inclined his head, a flicker of warmth breaking through his earlier storm of emotion. “It’s an honour to care for Harry. If you need me to watch him, I’ll do so gladly.”

Tony hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, he carried Harry out of the room and up to his quarters, instructing JARVIS to hold all non-emergency notifications. He laid Harry gently on his bed, tucking the covers around him before settling into a nearby chair with his Stark-Pad.

As Tony glanced at his sleeping son, his jaw tightened. He didn’t care how powerful Dumbledore or Voldemort had been, he’d make sure neither could ever harm Harry again.

~~~~

Tony was pacing Harry’s room, his worry growing with each passing hour. Harry had been unconscious for 12 hours now, and though Loki had assured him it was part of the magical adjustment, Tony couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at his chest. The sun had set hours ago, casting long shadows across the room, and the only sound was the faint sound of Harry breathing.

Steve and Loki had stopped by earlier. Loki was more concerned with Harry, while Steve seemed to be checking in on both of them. Tony appreciated their concern, though he was glad for the quiet now. Being alone gave him the space to replay the odd events of that morning with Steve.

He had been in the lab, tinkering with the team’s gear, when Steve walked in. Tony had glanced up, expecting the usual greeting, but instead, Steve had just stood there, staring at him with an unreadable expression. After an awkward moment, Steve blushed, muttered something under his breath, and quickly shifted to his usual businesslike tone, asking what Tony was working on. Tony had chalked it up to one of Steve’s typical “awkward old-timer moments.”

Then, it got stranger. Steve had reached for the small spy gadget Tony had just repaired for Natasha at the same time Tony was about to pick it up. Their hands brushed, and Steve froze, his face turning beet red. To Tony’s surprise, Steve didn’t immediately pull his hand away. Instead, he stammered something incoherent, his hand still resting lightly on Tony’s. For a brief moment, Tony swore he saw something in Steve’s eyes, something vulnerable, raw, and undeniably... warm.

Tony couldn’t quite figure out what had happened. Was it a fluke? Or something more? He didn’t mind the attention, though. Hell, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued. But whatever was going on, Steve clearly needed to sort himself out before he spontaneously combusted.

Tony’s musings were interrupted by a faint sound. He glanced toward the bed, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Harry stirring. The boy’s emerald eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first but quickly taking in his surroundings.

“Dad?” Harry’s voice was hoarse but steady, snapping Tony out of his thoughts. He was at the boy’s side in an instant, crouching next to the bed and cupping Harry’s face to check him over.

“You’re awake,” Tony breathed, relief flooding his features. He scanned Harry carefully, noting that, aside from looking a little pale, his son seemed unharmed. For a brief moment, though, Tony thought Harry’s green eyes were glowing faintly. He blinked, and the glow was gone. He shook it off, deciding it was just his tired mind playing tricks on him.

“How are you feeling, kiddo?”

“I’m okay,” Harry replied groggily, rubbing at his eyes. “Just tired. And... hungry.”

Tony chuckled softly, ruffling Harry’s messy hair. “Hungry, huh? Not surprised. You’ve been out for 12 hours.”

Harry’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together what had happened. “Twelve hours? What even happened to me?”

Tony settled into the chair he’d dragged to Harry’s bedside, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You and Loki were reading those Parselmouth books, and you ended up performing Parselmagic. That triggered the block on your magic to break. Your magical core had to reconfigure itself to adjust, and all that strain knocked you out.”

“Oh.” Harry blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to curiosity. “Well, at least the block’s gone now.”

Tony sighed, shaking his head with a rueful smile. “Yeah, at least that block is gone. You know, kid, you should really work on developing some self-preservation instincts. I don’t need both of us running headfirst into trouble all the time.”

Harry grinned sheepishly, his easy acceptance of the situation only adding to Tony’s mix of exasperation and pride. Tony sighed again, standing up and stretching. “All right, let’s get you something to eat. What do you want, kiddo?”

“Pizza!” Harry said brightly, his grin widening.

“Your usual?”

“Yes, please.”

“Got it.” Tony headed for the door, already instructing Jarvis to place the order. He paused at the threshold and turned back. “Why don’t you grab a quick shower? By the time you’re done, the pizza will be here.”

“Okay!” Harry pushed himself up, still a little groggy but clearly regaining his energy. Tony left, making a mental note to order enough pizza for the rest of the tower while he was at it

Loki sat in the lounge, a book balanced in one hand and a glass cage resting beside him on the table. He appeared relaxed, but the sharp glint in his eyes said otherwise. As Tony walked past, Loki’s voice broke the silence without him even looking up.

“I assume Harry is awake?”

Tony stopped, glancing at the god lounging as if he owned the place. He had long since gotten used to Loki’s constant presence around his son; it was like having that one relative who stayed long past their welcome but somehow made themselves indispensable.

“Yeah, he’s awake. Should be down soon,” Tony replied, walking into the kitchen. “Care to join us for dinner?”

Loki’s lips twitched into what might have been a smile. He stood, the cage in hand, and followed Tony. “I would be delighted.”

Tony eyed the cage as he pulled open a cupboard. “What’s with the cage? Coffee?” He grabbed the tea leaves before Loki could answer.

Loki placed the cage carefully on the counter. Inside was the snake Harry had summoned earlier, its scales shimmering faintly under the kitchen lights. “This is the snake your son summoned,” Loki explained, his tone nonchalant. “And tea, please.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “It hasn’t disappeared yet?” He filled the kettle and set it to boil, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

“No. I suspect it is not a temporary summon. The snake appears to be a permanent manifestation, at least until it is banished by Harry.” Loki leaned against the counter, watching as Tony prepared their drinks.

“So Parselmagic is stronger than the regular stuff Harry’s been learning?” Tony asked, sliding a mug of tea toward Loki.

“Not exactly,” Loki said, taking the mug and inspecting it like it might suddenly attack. “Parselmagic and traditional wizarding magic draw from the same well of power. However, Parselmagic is unique due to the rarity of Parseltongue itself. Few wizards understand the language, let alone know how to counter spells cast using it.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his coffee. “How rare are we talking here? I mean, how many wizards can even speak the language?”

Loki paused, considering the question. “Outside of Harry and the Dark Lord, there are very few. Most of those who can speak it reside in the Asian continent, particularly India, where the language is occasionally taught. Even there, it is practiced sparingly, largely due to the stigma placed on it by the English wizarding world.”

Tony frowned. “Let me guess. Dumbledore and his gang of morality police painted it as dark magic?”

Loki inclined his head slightly. “Precisely. Fear of the unknown breeds ignorance, and Parseltongue is no exception.”

Tony leaned against the counter, his gaze drifting to the snake in the cage. “Can you understand it?”

Loki’s expression shifted, a flicker of pride lighting his features. “I can. It has taken me a day, but I now understand the language. Speaking it, however, is a separate matter. Though Allspeak grants me fluency in most tongues, magical languages require... finesse.” He smirked faintly. “I shall only know if I have mastered it once I speak to Harry in Parseltongue.”

Tony chuckled. “You’ll have to let me know how that goes. What about Thor? Think he could pick it up?”

Loki scoffed softly, his tone laced with amusement. “Perhaps, if he applied himself. Our mother gifted him with some aptitude for magic, but he has little interest in such pursuits. He prefers a hammer to a spellbook.”

Tony smirked, pushing off the counter to check the time. “Well, Thor’s loss, I guess. You sure this snake is safe, though? Harry’s got enough on his plate without accidentally summoning something dangerous.”

Loki looked at the snake, his expression unreadable. “It is not a creature I recognize, but it seems... tethered to Harry’s magic. I suspect it will remain loyal to him as its summoner.”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but decided to let it slide. He had bigger things to worry about, like making sure his kid actually ate something after his magical adventure. As the two fell into a companionable silence, Tony found himself oddly grateful for Loki’s presence. For all his dramatics and arrogance, the god had proven himself surprisingly dependable when it came to Harry.

When Harry finally appeared, fresh from the shower and looking more awake, Tony handed him a glass of water before he gestured toward Loki.

“Kid, you should probably thank your magical babysitter here. He’s been keeping an eye on your snake situation.”

Harry blinked, his gaze falling on the cage beside Loki. Inside, the pale, shimmering serpent raised its head, its sleek body coiled loosely. “Oh! It’s still here?”

As Harry approached, the snake lifted itself higher, its movements smooth and deliberate.

“Speaker,” the snake hissed, its tone sharp, “is there a reason you summoned me only to imprison me? I am no mere garden snake and do not take kindly to being caged.”

The serpent’s voice echoed in Harry’s mind, its words clear and precise. He paused mid-step, startled, and glanced over his shoulder. Tony and Loki were both watching him intently, their faces unreadable, though Tony’s brow was furrowed in confusion.

“You won’t harm us if I let you out?” Harry asked cautiously, his voice steady despite the tension in his shoulders.

“I would not dare,” the snake replied, its tone softer but still regal. “Not in the presence of Jörmungandr’s father.”

Harry turned sharply to Loki, his curiosity sparking. “Wait... Loki, is that true? Jörmungandr’s father?”

Loki’s expression tightened briefly before he sighed, his fingers brushing along the edge of the cage. “Yes, Jörmungandr is... one of my children, born to my first wife. It is a long and painful tale, Harry, one that ends with the All-Father banishing my children from their home and forbidding me from seeing them. But that is a grief I have come to live with.” His voice was calm, though there was a flicker of something raw in his eyes.

“Right. Okay,” Harry said, shifting his focus back to the snake. “Loki, can you let him out? He promises not to harm us. On Jörmungandr’s father’s honour.”

Loki arched a brow but relented, unlocking the cage with a flick of his fingers. “Very well,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “But I expect you to take responsibility for your new friend.”

The snake slithered out gracefully, its movements almost mesmerizing. It approached Harry, pausing to examine him with unblinking eyes. Slowly, Harry crouched and extended his arm. The snake coiled up his outstretched limb, its body light yet firm, before draping itself across his shoulders.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked softly.

“I have no name,” the snake hissed. “Only my scent.”

“What type of serpent are you?” Loki asked, his Parseltongue slightly stilted but intelligible.

“I am a botis snake,” it replied, its voice smooth. “I come from the deserts of Africa.”

Harry tilted his head. “Can I give you a name, then? Something easier for us to use than scent?”

The snake paused, its head lifting slightly. “Tell me of this name you propose.”

Harry smiled faintly, considering his words. “Apollo. It’s the name of a Greek god, the god of the sun. Apollo was also the name of the program that sent people to the moon. Your scales remind me of sunlight, the way they shimmer, but their pale tones also make me think of the moon.”

The snake let out a low hiss, almost thoughtful. “It is an acceptable name; with reasoning I can respect. You may call me Apollo.”

Apollo shifted slightly, his coils relaxing as he rested his head against Harry’s shoulder. “The non-speakers look lost,” he added, his tone tinged with humour. “I shall rest now.”

Harry glanced up to find Tony standing awkwardly nearby, his coffee mug clutched in both hands. Loki, however, was watching Tony with a smirk, clearly amused.

“Well,” Harry said, breaking the silence, “this is Apollo. Apparently, I summoned him from somewhere in Africa. He says he’s a botis snake. I haven’t heard of one before, but he’s magical and seems happy enough here for now.”

Tony blinked, processing the information. “Right. J, order some snake food and... whatever equipment we might need for a snake. Let’s not wing this one.”

“Right away, sir,” Jarvis replied smoothly.

“So, what exactly is a botis snake?” Tony asked, his gaze flicking to Loki.

Harry shrugged. “No clue.”

Both of them turned expectantly to Loki, who raised a brow. “I know little of the species myself. I have heard of them in passing but never studied them in depth. Their scales are said to occasionally reflect the world around them, almost like a mirage.”

“J, anything in the archives?” Tony asked, already anticipating the AI’s reply.

“Not currently, sir. I will contact Mr. Drumm to inquire if he has any resources on magical serpents.”

“Thanks, J.”

Tony exhaled, shaking his head as he glanced at Apollo, who now looked utterly content draped across Harry’s shoulders. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

Loki chuckled softly. “Indeed. Though, if Harry continues down this path, you may need to expand your understanding of magical creatures sooner rather than later.”

“Great,” Tony muttered. “Just what I needed. More surprises.”

Harry grinned, reaching up to lightly scratch Apollo’s neck. “Don’t worry, Dad. He’s harmless.”

Loki gave Harry a once-over with his magic, his sharp gaze softening as he confirmed that Harry’s magical core was stabilizing. While it was strained from the rebound of breaking the block, it had already begun to heal itself. A few days of rest, good meals, and minimal magical exertion would set things right. Thankfully, Harry’s upcoming school schedule didn’t involve much magic, and with the weekend ahead, he had plenty of time to recover.

Their food arrived not long after, filling the air with the savory aroma of pizza. The three of them settled in to eat together, the atmosphere quiet but not unpleasant. Harry wasn’t in the mood to face the rest of the team just yet. As much as he would have liked Steve’s company, inviting him without including the others felt awkward, especially with Loki already present.

Apollo, who had been resting comfortably on Harry’s shoulders, stirred at the scent of food. Lifting his head, he fixed Harry with an almost regal gaze.

“Speaker,” the snake hissed politely, “might I request some raw meat? This fare smells intriguing, but it is not suited to my palate.”

Harry stifled a grin. “Sure, Apollo. Jarvis, can we get some raw meat sent up?”

“Certainly, sir. It will be delivered shortly,” the AI responded smoothly.

Tony chuckled. “That’s one polite snake you’ve got there. Not that the competition is stiff.”

Once they finished eating, Loki rose to leave. “You should rest, Harry,” he advised, his tone firm but not unkind. “And no taxing magic until your core has fully recovered. Apollo seems capable of offering company if you need it.”

Harry nodded, his gratitude evident in his smile. “Thanks, Loki. For everything.”

The god inclined his head before departing, leaving Harry alone with his dad and his newfound serpentine companion.

Tony leaned back in his chair, his expression amused but curious. “So, any other snakes you’re planning to summon and adopt? Or is Apollo it for now?”

Harry laughed softly, shaking his head. “I think I’m good. I didn’t even realize that spell would summon a real snake from somewhere in the world. And I don’t know what happens to the snake if I cast the cancellation spell. Does he just vanish? Get sent back? I’d rather not risk it. Besides,” he added, glancing at Apollo, “he seems happy enough here. Definitely happier now that he’s out of the cage.”

Tony nodded, his gaze shifting to the snake draped lazily over Harry’s shoulders. “He does look pretty comfortable up there. Is he venomous?”

“I’m not sure. Want me to ask him?”

Tony waved a hand dismissively. “As long as he’s a friend, I’m not worried.”

The moment of light banter ended as Harry stifled a yawn, his eyelids drooping despite his best efforts to stay awake. Tony noticed immediately and gave a small smile.

“Why don’t you head to bed, kid? You’re wiped.”

Harry hesitated for a moment but gave in, another yawn escaping before he could answer. “Alright. See you in the morning.”

“Night, kiddo.”

“Night, Dad.”

Tony watched him shuffle off, Apollo still draped comfortably around his shoulders. The sight tugged at something deep in his chest, pride, worry, and love blending in equal measure. Being a father wasn’t easy. In fact, it was downright stressful at times. But he didn’t regret a second of it.

He wasn’t in this alone, either. Clint, with his own family, had been a steady source of advice. Natasha had claimed the role of the cool aunt, while Bruce was always there in his quiet, steady way. Loki, surprisingly, had become an unofficial co-parent, though Tony would never admit it aloud. And Steve... well, Steve was something else entirely.

Tony sipped his coffee, his thoughts drifting. There was something between him and Steve. Something unspoken but undeniable. He knew himself well enough to recognize that he wasn’t straight… probably bisexual, though he’d always leaned more toward women. Still, a few men had turned his head over the years.

Steve, though, seemed to be wrestling with his own feelings. Tony wasn’t going to push; he wasn’t actively looking for love, after all, but if it came his way, he wouldn’t turn it down.

As he passed by Harry’s room on his way to the workshop, Tony wasn’t surprised to see the light still on. He decided to let it slide; Harry could sleep in tomorrow. They didn’t have any big plans for the weekend anyway.

Inside the room, he could hear Harry’s soft voice as he spoke with Apollo. The boy’s curiosity and enthusiasm shone through even in the quiet tones.

As soon as Harry closed his bedroom door, Apollo stirred on his shoulders, lifting his head curiously to take in his surroundings.

“Is this your nest, young one?” the snake asked, his voice a soft, resonant hiss.

Harry grinned as he set his wand down on his bedside table. “If you mean the place where I sleep, then yeah. This is it.”

Apollo gave an approving hum, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “Yes, it is... warm here. Comfortable. Where may I claim a nest among yours?”

Harry hesitated, glancing around the room. “Uh, I should have something better for you by tomorrow, but if you don’t mind, you can sleep next to me tonight… or I can make a bundle for you?”

“A bundle should suffice,” Apollo replied regally, beginning to slither down Harry’s arm.

Gently placing the snake on his bed, Harry rummaged through a drawer to grab a few spare blankets. As he worked, he stole glances at Apollo. The snake wasn’t very big, maybe 70 centimetres long, with a slim body that shimmered faintly under the light.

“Are you venomous?” Harry asked as he shook out the blankets.

Apollo raised his head, studying Harry intently. “I am, though my venom is not deadly.”

Harry paused, glancing over his shoulder. “What happens if you bite someone?”

Apollo’s tone turned contemplative. “My venom induces paralysis, spreading slowly through the limbs. Movement would return after some time, though the victim might experience lingering sickness. However, my venom carries magical properties, it is designed to incapacitate, not kill. I cannot say the same for others of my kind, as many have suffered mistreatment at the hands of humans and do not infuse magic into their venom as I do.”

Harry nodded, his hands working on the makeshift bundle. He carefully arranged it on the far side of the bed, where he rarely slept anyway. “You’re definitely the smartest snake I’ve ever met,” he said with a chuckle.

Apollo slithered toward the bundle, inspecting it before coiling up. His head tilted slightly, and Harry could have sworn the snake looked smug. “Thank you. My species prides itself on intelligence.”

Harry laughed outright this time, shaking his head as he settled onto the bed. “Do you have any siblings?”

Apollo shifted slightly in his bundle, the faint shimmer of his scales catching the light. Harry thought he saw images being portrayed in them, but it happened too quickly for him to be sure of what he saw.

“I once had nest mates. As we grew older, we drifted from our hatching grounds. Occasionally, we cross paths and exchange words, but our lives have taken us far from each other.”

There was something wistful in Apollo’s tone, and Harry found himself watching the snake with a new kind of respect. He could sense a depth of experience in the creature, something ancient and wise that surpassed any other magical being he had encountered.

“Let us sleep now, young one,” Apollo said after a moment, his voice quieter, almost soothing.

Harry smiled and shifted to get comfortable, pulling his blanket up. “Good idea. J, can you switch off the lights?”

“Of course, Young Harry. Sleep well,” Jarvis replied, his smooth voice filling the room before the lights dimmed into darkness.

“Thanks, J. Night.”

“Good night, Young Harry.”

As Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, he could feel the steady warmth of Apollo’s presence nearby. For all the chaos of the day, there was a strange sense of peace in the quiet of his room. Safe, warm, and with a new friend by his side, sleep came easily.

Chapter Text

The next day, Harry was still recovering from his magical exhaustion, though the others were glad to see him up and moving around. Even so, his sleepiness lingered, evident in the dark circles under his eyes and the way he yawned over breakfast.

Apollo had quickly settled into his new habitat, which now spanned Harry’s room and a few designated spots on the top floors of the Tower. The sleek enclosures were carefully designed to match his needs, complete with temperature control and plenty of cosy spaces for the snake to rest. He seemed quite content with the arrangements, much to Harry’s relief.

Between sips of juice, Harry couldn’t help but notice Steve acting strangely. The Captain seemed to be avoiding Tony, dodging eye contact and steering clear of his usual spots in the room whenever Tony was nearby. On the flip side, Tony seemed to revel in the opportunity to annoy him, tossing offhand remarks or exaggerated winks just to get a reaction. Harry watched them with a mix of amusement and frustration, clearly, at least one of them was aware of the tension between them, but neither seemed inclined to address it.

As Harry mulled over how to push them toward bonding, Jarvis’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Sir, it has come to my attention that as the new inhabitant of the household is a snake, specifically, a magical one, he may require specialized equipment that I am unable to purchase online. It would be prudent to visit the wizarding district before the stores close today.”

Tony looked up from his coffee, smirking slightly. “Thanks, J. Harry, you up for a trip?”

Harry perked up immediately. “Yup!” Then, as an idea struck him, he turned to Steve, doing his best impression of wide, pleading eyes. “Uncle Steve, won’t you come with us?”

Steve hesitated, his expression caught somewhere between suspicion and uncertainty. “Sure, kid, but… don’t you think Loki would be better suited for this kind of thing?”

Harry glanced over at Loki, who was lounging nearby with a faintly amused expression. The god raised a single eyebrow, his voice dripping with dry humour. “While I would be delighted to join Harry on his noble quest to care for a snake, may I remind you all that it was not long ago I attempted to conquer this planet? A quick trip to the bank is one thing; parading about in public is quite another.”

Steve grimaced. “Alright, point taken.” He sighed, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Let me get dressed, and we can head out.”

“Sure thing, Spangles,” Tony quipped, flashing Loki a mischievous wink on his way to the door.

Loki’s knowing chuckle followed them out. Harry stifled a grin, marvelling at how smoothly Jarvis and Loki had supported his little scheme. By the time Steve joined them at the parking lot, looking freshly pressed but visibly wary, Harry was practically buzzing with excitement.

“Steve, you’re riding up front with Dad,” Harry insisted with a grin, hopping into the backseat before either adult could protest.

“Harry—” Steve began, but Tony cut him off.

“Don’t fight it, Cap. The kid’s got his heart set on this. Get in.”

Steve climbed in reluctantly, settling stiffly into the passenger seat like someone bracing for an ambush. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Tony couldn’t help but snicker under his breath.

“You’re acting like I just threw you into the deep end, Rogers. Relax. It’s a shopping trip, not a covert mission.”

Steve shot him a sideways glance. “I’m just not used to… this,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely at the sleek interior of Tony’s car, the playful banter, and, presumably, the billionaire himself.

Tony smirked, his tone light but not without warmth. “Stick with me, Cap. You might even enjoy yourself.”

From the backseat, Harry hid his grin behind his hands, watching as Steve’s ears turned faintly red. The impromptu plan was working perfectly.

It didn’t take long before they arrived at the Woolworth Building, their only known way into the magical district. While there was a more public entrance, none of them were familiar with it, so they opted for the route they knew, even if it was out of the way. Harry couldn’t help but find it odd that the goblins didn’t have their bank situated within the shopping district itself. There was probably a reason for it, but the logic escaped him.

The group made their way quickly to the district entrance. Tony and Steve, wide-eyed, took in the sight as they stepped into Salamander Alley. Harry, however, found himself automatically comparing it to Diagon Alley. Salamander Alley, it seemed, was entirely underground, illuminated by a series of skylights cleverly disguised as fountains aboveground. He quickly realized they must be directly beneath a nearby park.

Where Diagon Alley had an old-world charm, its whimsical, mismatched buildings somehow fitting together in a way that defied logic, Salamander Alley struck him as more modern. The structures weren’t pristine, and there was a slight misshapenness to the layout, but everything seemed solid and stable—a deliberate kind of magic, carefully maintained. A faded sign they had passed at the entrance confirmed the alley’s name, adding a touch of character to the bustling scene.

“Alright,” Tony announced, breaking Harry’s train of thought, “we’re heading to the pet store and then straight home. No detours.” He glanced pointedly at Harry, his concern for the boy’s recovery showing despite his casual tone.

The pet shop wasn’t hard to find, and once inside, Harry wasted no time slipping away from his dad and Steve to find an attendant who could help him.

Tony leaned casually against the store counter, watching Steve as the man stood awkwardly, clearly out of his element. “So, Stevie,” Tony began, his tone teasing, “ever been to a magical district in America before?”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “No, Tony. You know that. The only time I’ve been to a magical district was when I went to Diagon Alley with you two.”

“Ah, fair point,” Tony replied, smirking. He let the silence stretch for a beat before adding, “Had any big revelations recently?”

Steve turned to him with a puzzled frown. “What do you mean? Everything’s fine with me.”

“Sure about that?” Tony’s gaze flicked down, then back up again, his expression almost too casual. Steve shifted uncomfortably, his posture stiffening.

“I’m fine, Tony.”

Tony’s smirk deepened. “Now, Steve, there’s nothing wrong with checking me out. Wouldn’t be the first time a man has.”

Steve’s ears turned red. “I wouldn’t do that, Tony. I’m into women. I’ve got Peggy.”

Tony tilted his head, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Come on, Stevie. Peggy moved on a long time ago. She got married and had a full life. You know that. And honestly? You’ve moved on too.”

“I—” Steve started, then stopped, clearly flustered.

“Stop fighting it, Steve,” Tony said, his voice quieter but no less firm. With that, he straightened and headed off to look for Harry, leaving Steve alone to stew in his thoughts. Tony wasn’t about to push any harder, it wasn’t his style, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t plant the idea.

Meanwhile, Harry had finished gathering what he needed. There wasn’t much he didn’t already have, so he picked up a few magical items with muggle equivalents and arranged for a weekly delivery of food for Apollo. When he reunited with his dad, they both stepped outside to find Steve waiting for them.

The Captain stood just outside the shop, staring into the distance with a dumbfounded expression. His usual easy confidence seemed to have been replaced by a quiet, thoughtful demeanour. Whatever Tony had said was clearly still circling in his mind.

Harry exchanged a quick look with his dad, who simply shrugged as if to say, Your plan worked better than I expected.

Without a word, Steve fell into step behind them as they made their way back to the car.

~~~~~

Across the Atlantic Ocean, Sirius Black was finding solace in an unexpected place. For the past month, he’d been helping Newt Scamander care for the various magical creatures at his treatment centre. It was fulfilling work, and though it was far from the adrenaline rush of his days as an Auror, it gave Sirius a sense of purpose. The animals didn’t judge him, didn’t ask questions, and didn’t care about his past. Instead, they responded to his care, and in turn, they helped ease the weight of guilt and anger that had hung over him for so long.

Sirius glanced at the grindylow tank, his mind wandering as he methodically chopped up food for the creatures. If it hadn’t been for Newt... He shook his head. He didn’t like to think about what might have happened if the eccentric magizoologist hadn’t found him.

Newt wandered over, his hands lightly dusted with hay. “You ever consider working with animals? Before... everything happened?” he asked, his tone casual but curious.

Sirius paused, setting down the knife as he thought about it. “No,” he admitted, leaning back against the counter. “All I wanted was to be an Auror. Partly to stick it to my parents, be everything they hated, and partly because it meant working alongside James.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “Why do you ask?”

Newt tilted his head, his eyes briefly scanning the creatures in the room. “You seem to have a knack for it,” he said simply.

Sirius huffed a laugh. “Maybe. Could be because of my animagus form, or all those full moons spent with a werewolf. You learn a lot when you’re trying to keep your best mate from tearing himself apart.”

Newt’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he nodded. “Ah, yes. Remus Lupin. It’s remarkable, really, what you boys managed to do back then. A group of teenagers figuring out what a werewolf truly needs during the full moon, something even the finest potion masters haven’t gotten right.”

Sirius gave a small, wistful smile, the memories both warming and stinging. “We did what we could. He deserved it.”

Newt turned thoughtful, his hands idly straightening the tools on the counter. “I’ve been meaning to tell you—there’s an upcoming trip I’ve been planning to the United States. Some of the animals here are ready to be released into sanctuaries over there. But... there’s more to it.” He met Sirius’s eyes, his expression serious but kind. “If all goes well, I can pull a few strings, call in some favours, and get you a fair trial in the U.S.”

Sirius froze, the words almost too much to process. “Are... are you serious?” he stammered, disbelief and hope warring on his face.

Newt chuckled softly. “I thought that was your job.”

The corner of Sirius’s mouth twitched at the familiar joke, but Newt’s tone quickly turned solemn again. “Yes, Sirius. I’ve been watching you, and it’s only fair you have a chance to clear your name. If it works, though...” He paused, considering. “You may end up stuck in America. As far as I know, the two governments aren’t particularly cooperative. But you’d be free.”

Sirius’s breath hitched. The thought of freedom, a real chance at it, was overwhelming. “When do we leave?” he asked, his voice trembling with restrained emotion.

“Monday morning,” Newt replied. “I’ll need to inform the Auror department over there about your arrival. They’ll probably detain you at first, but I’ll do everything I can to get you a trial as soon as we land.”

Sirius let out a shaky laugh, his eyes bright. “If this works, I’ll owe you a life debt, Newt. A big one.”

Newt waved a hand dismissively, a warm smile on his face. “Nonsense. The world needs good people like you, Sirius. And so do those who care about you.”

For the first time in years, Sirius felt a genuine spark of hope. He clenched his fists, steeling himself. He finally had a chance, not just to clear his name, but to build a life again.

~~~~~

Monday arrived, dragging behind it an unbearable weight of anticipation. For Sirius, the hours seemed to stretch endlessly. Every passing moment felt like an eternity as he waited in Newt's enchanted trunk. Though the inside of the case was a sanctuary, spacious, stable, and detached from the world’s movement, it couldn’t keep his mind from racing.

He busied himself tending to some of Newt’s animals, anything to keep from counting the minutes. But even the soothing routine of feeding and cleaning wasn’t enough to stop the anxiety gnawing at his chest. The stakes were high: his freedom, his name, his future, all hinging on what would happen in the next few hours.

Finally, there came a knock from above. Sirius froze, taking a steadying breath before climbing out of the trunk. The bright light of the outside world momentarily blinded him, and as his eyes adjusted, he caught sight of the American Auror approaching him. The man was tall, with a stern expression that offered no hint of sympathy.

The Auror held out a pair of enchanted handcuffs, their surface faintly glowing with runes. “Sirius Black,” he began, his tone cold and formal, “you are under arrest for the murder of one wizard and twelve Muggles, as well as for escaping from lawful imprisonment. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Sirius didn’t resist. He held out his hands, allowing the cuffs to snap into place with a sharp click. The weight of them was both literal and symbolic, but Sirius kept his head high. He wasn’t going to let them see his fear.

The Auror pulled a coin from his pocket, tapping it with his wand. It glowed brightly for a moment before he placed it in Sirius’s hand. The familiar tug of a Portkey yanked him forward, and in the blink of an eye, Sirius found himself standing inside a small, sterile cell.

The walls were plain, the air cool and heavy with the faint scent of magic. Before he could take in more of his surroundings, a sharp voice called out, “Sirius Black.”

He turned toward the bars of the cell, where a young woman stood. She was petite, with sharp, intelligent eyes that burned with determination. She didn’t look like someone who intimidated easily.

“Welcome to the United States and to MACUSA,” she said briskly, her tone professional but not unkind. “Your trial is scheduled to begin in an hour. I trust Mr. Scamander has briefed you on the process?”

Sirius shook his head, feeling a pang of unease. “Not much,” he admitted.

She gave a curt nod, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Figures. I’m Lauren Appelman, your legal counsel. Let’s sit down and go over what’s going to happen in court. We don’t have much time, so I’ll be direct.” Everything blurred by Sirius as she started to discuss how the trial would go down.

~~~~~

Newt Scamander sat on the defendant’s side of the courtroom, his fingers lightly drumming against his knee. He was here to serve as a witness if needed, though he hoped his testimony wouldn’t be necessary. He adjusted his posture, scanning the room filled with a mix of power and scrutiny.

His attention was pulled to the quiet, purposeful steps of the newly elected President of MACUSA, who approached with an air of authority. President Quahog leaned down, his voice barely above a whisper. “I trust the favour you’ve called in isn’t because of Harry Potter.”

Newt tilted his head, genuinely puzzled. “No. Isn’t Mister Potter supposed to be in the U.K.?”

For a moment, Quahog looked thoughtful, his gaze flickering toward the far side of the room. The weight of his words carried a quiet gravity. “This information doesn’t leave America,” he began in a low tone, “but Mister Potter has been a citizen of the United States, and of MACUSA, since late July. He’s living with his biological father, so if Sirius Black clears his name, there will be no possibility of him gaining custody of his godson.”

Newt absorbed the information, his expression neutral despite the flicker of surprise in his eyes. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, given what little he knew of Harry’s current situation. “You want me to tell him?”

The President shook his head, his voice firm but calm. “No. That isn’t your burden, for now. Just ensure Black keeps his focus on clearing his name.”

Newt gave a small, understanding nod, watching as the President straightened and made his way to his seat.

The courtroom began to fill with an expectant silence. This trial was semi-closed, with only a carefully vetted group of reporters and select spectators in attendance. Most were individuals of influence, their eyes sharp and calculating. Every rustle of parchment or scrape of a chair carried weight in the heavy air.

The low hum of conversation stilled entirely as Sirius Black entered the room. Two guards flanked him, their wands resting at the ready, while his lawyer, Lauren Appelman, led the way. Sirius’s expression was a mix of determination and unease, but he held his head high.

Newt’s heart ached at the sight of him. Though Sirius carried himself with an air of defiance, it was clear that the years in Azkaban had left their scars. He walked with purpose, yet there was a faint hesitancy in his step, a wariness born from years of being treated as less than human.

Sirius’s gaze briefly swept over the spectators, lingering for a moment on Newt. The silent acknowledgement passed between them like an unspoken promise: This is your chance. Don’t give up now.

Lauren directed Sirius to his place, and the guards stepped back, taking their positions near the edges of the room. The tension was palpable as the proceedings began, the Chief Magistrate’s voice cutting through the silence to formally open the trial.

Newt sat straighter, bracing himself for what was to come. He had done everything in his power to bring Sirius here, to give him a shot at the justice he deserved. Now, it was up to Sirius and Lauren to see it through.

The trial began in earnest, though Sirius barely registered the opening statements. His nerves felt like live wires, buzzing under his skin. The weight of years spent in Azkaban pressed down on him, making the waiting unbearable. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his thoughts racing. This was his chance, his only chance, and all he could do was sit and hope the truth would finally prevail.

The judge's voice broke through his haze. “Sirius Black, do you consent to the use of Veritaserum for questioning during this trial?”

Sirius forced himself to meet the judge’s eyes. His voice, steady despite his nerves, rang clear. “Yes, I do.”

The judge nodded, motioning to an attendant. Sirius was guided to a chair at the centre of the circular courtroom. The room seemed to hum with tension as the small vial of potion was unsealed. The attendant carefully measured out three drops, nearly tipping a fourth before pulling the vial back. Sirius swallowed the potion, the cool liquid settling in his throat. He felt the familiar fog of Veritaserum wash over his mind, a strange clarity that left no room for lies.

Lauren Appelman, his lawyer, stepped forward, her tone calm and deliberate. “What is your name?”

“Sirius Orion Black the Third,” he answered without hesitation.

“What year were you born, and where?”

“1976, in the Black family townhouse, London, Great Britain.”

Lauren glanced at the opposing lawyer, who gave a small nod. “The potion is working,” they confirmed.

Lauren pressed on. “Were you ever a Death Eater?”

“No, I have never been one.”

“Where were you on the night the Potters were murdered?”

“I was at home when my alarms went off. I rushed to the Potters’ house to check on them.”

“What did you find when you arrived?”

“I went inside and saw James dead on the floor. I ran upstairs to the nursery, where Lily was lying on the ground. Harry was in his cot, crying.”

His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, the memories cutting through the Veritaserum-induced haze.

“What happened next?”

“I went outside, and Rubeus Hagrid arrived. He said I had to hand Harry over, Dumbledore’s orders. Hagrid told me Dumbledore wanted to check on Harry and place him somewhere safe. I didn’t argue. I trusted both of them to protect Harry.” Sirius’s jaw tightened, the edges of his anguish breaking through. “After that, I left to find Peter Pettigrew.”

“Why did you seek out Peter Pettigrew?”

“Because he was James’s Secret Keeper. He betrayed them.”

“Weren’t you the Potters’ Secret Keeper?”

“I was at first,” Sirius admitted. “But I convinced James and Lily to switch to Peter. I thought it would be safer, no one would ever suspect him.”

Lauren nodded, her voice measured. “And when you found Peter Pettigrew, what happened?”

“I confronted him several days later. He was in a crowd of Muggles. He started shouting that I had betrayed the Potters and killed them. Then…” Sirius paused, his voice trembling with restrained anger. “He cut off his finger, cast Bombarda Maxima behind his back, and transformed into a rat. He escaped into the sewers.”

“Transformed into a rat?” Lauren pressed.

“Yes. Peter is an unregistered Animagus, like James and me.”

“When did you become an Animagus?”

“While we were at Hogwarts. My friends and I learned to support Remus Lupin during the full moons.”

“So, your Animagus form was never registered?”

“No,” Sirius admitted. “James and I planned to register once we became Aurors.”

“Why wasn’t this information brought up in your previous trial?”

Sirius’s voice hardened, bitterness cutting through the Veritaserum’s haze. “Because I never had a trial. They threw me into Azkaban without one.”

Gasps rippled through the courtroom, the sound rising like a tide.

“Order!” The judge banged their gavel. “Silence in the gallery.”

Lauren’s expression didn’t change, though her voice carried a sharper edge. “To clarify, you were imprisoned without trial?”

“Yes,” Sirius replied.

“And you later escaped from Azkaban?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How?”

Sirius’s voice softened, the memory stark in his mind. “I spent most of my time in Animagus form, a Grim-like dog. Dementors can’t sense animals the same way they do humans. I saw Peter in the Daily Prophet, in his rat form, with one of the Weasley boys. That gave me purpose.

“At night, I slipped through the bars in dog form. I was skin and bone by then, thin enough to fit through. I swam across the cold waters surrounding the prison, my fur keeping me warm enough to survive.”

Lauren turned to the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor. Please administer the antidote.”

The potion’s effects wore off quickly after Sirius was given the antidote. His mind cleared, and the oppressive haze of Veritaserum lifted. He blinked, glancing toward Newt, who gave him an encouraging grin from his seat. Sirius tried to take comfort in that, though his nerves continued to gnaw at him as the jury deliberated.

Minutes felt like hours. Sirius picked at his fingers, his mind racing with every possible outcome.

Finally, the jury returned, and the courtroom fell silent.

The foreman stood; his voice clear. “The jury finds the defendant not guilty. Sirius Black is to register his Animagus form within one month and receive physical and mental treatment until deemed healthy.”

The words hit Sirius like a tidal wave. He was free.

For a moment, he sat frozen, unable to believe what he’d just heard. Then, he shot to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He crossed the courtroom in a few strides and pulled Newt into a fierce hug.

Newt returned the embrace just as tightly, a quiet laugh escaping him. “You’re free, Sirius. It’s finally over.”

Sirius’s voice cracked as he replied, “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to, not yet,” Newt said, his tone light but his gaze steady. He’d wait to tell Sirius about Harry. There would be time for that when Sirius was ready.

For now, the only thing that mattered was that Sirius Black was free.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was in his lab, the hum of machinery and the glow of holographic screens his constant companions. He was engrossed in an experiment that had consumed him for weeks: integrating magic and technology. It wasn’t easy, magic and tech seemed to repel one another, like oil and water. So far, his experiments had shown that devices powered directly by the arc reactor could coexist with magic, but only under strict conditions. The arc reactor itself was impervious to magic as long as it wasn’t directly charmed. However, once struck by any spell, the connected tech would immediately fail.

It was fascinating and frustrating in equal measure. Tony leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Great. So I can’t exactly put mini arc reactors into toasters and sell them as ‘magic-proof’ appliances. Not if I want to sleep at night."

Still, progress was progress. With Harry’s help, and the invaluable assistance of Mr. Drumm, Tony had made a critical breakthrough. By placing a protective shield around the arc-reactor-powered tech, it remained functional even during high-magic events like Apparition. That discovery opened up exciting possibilities. Unfortunately, the protective charm had a fatal flaw: it deteriorated within two weeks, likely due to interference from the device's electromagnetic waves. Tony had already added a note to increase Mr. Drumm’s salary. The man had been a patient, tireless partner in testing the limits of these experiments.

Tony turned to a thick, open tome on his desk, The Theory of Magic. He squinted at the dense text and groaned. Theoretically, he understood it; magic was, at its core, a manipulation of energy fields. But practically? The nuances escaped him.

"Stick to what you know, Stark," he muttered, flipping the book closed.

Consumer products would have to wait, but custom gadgets for Harry and the team? That he could manage. Already, he’d designed and built several pieces specifically for Harry, most notably a magically enhanced phone. It had taken months to perfect, but the result was worth it. No matter where Harry was, he’d be able to reach Tony in an emergency. The phone also had a discreet tracking feature, though Tony had promised only to use it under extreme circumstances.

His train of thought was interrupted when Mr. Drumm walked into the lab, a letter in hand.

"Mail just came. Looks like it’s for you," Drumm said, holding the parchment out.

Tony took it, noting the wax seal, clearly magical correspondence. He unfolded the letter, skimming the neat, flowing script. His eyebrows shot up as he read.

Dear Dr. Stark,

I am writing this on behalf of all of Harry’s teachers. We recently convened to discuss your son’s remarkable progress and potential.

Harry has consistently demonstrated an extraordinary aptitude for magic. He is not only a quick learner but also achieves perfection almost immediately in his studies. His understanding of magic surpasses that of most adult wizards.

In light of this, we believe Harry is ready to sit for his O.W.L.s. He will also likely be ready to sit for his N.E.W.T.s next year, though the exams for both occur simultaneously.

We suggest he take his O.W.L.s in November. Enclosed are the necessary forms for registration. Next year, he can sit for his N.E.W.T.s, which are tentatively scheduled for late May or early June.

During this time, we will continue to teach him everything required for both exams. Beyond this, we strongly recommend he pursue a Mastery in any field he chooses. Harry is the most exceptional student I’ve had the honour of teaching, and I can confidently say the same for my colleagues.

His brilliance would have been stifled at Hogwarts. You made the right choice in selecting alternative schooling.

Regards,
Ralph Siegel
Spellwork Teacher

Tony leaned back in his chair, rereading the letter. A rare smile tugged at his lips.

"Kid’s a genius," he murmured, though his tone was full of pride.

Drumm raised an eyebrow. “Good news?”

“More than good. Harry’s teachers think he’s ready for his O.W.L.s, and his N.E.W.T.s aren’t far behind.”

Drumm let out a low whistle. “Impressive. You’ve got quite the prodigy on your hands.”

Tony folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket. He’d tell Harry after his studies were done for the day. The kid had worked hard, and he deserved to hear how proud his teachers, and his father, were of him.

Tony’s mind wandered to the future. If Harry passed his O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s early, he’d be free to focus on other areas of study. Perhaps even attend a non-magical high school, if he wanted. Harry had been catching up on his non-magical education at lightning speed, and Tony was confident the kid could handle anything thrown at him.

For now, though, Tony returned to his work, a quiet satisfaction warming his chest. Harry had a bright future ahead of him, and Tony was determined to support him every step of the way.

~~~~~

Tony was fine-tuning his latest experiment with magic and electricity when the Avengers’ alarm blared through the tower, cutting through his focus like a knife.

“What’s the problem, J?” Tony called out, already on his feet. He sprinted out of the lab and toward his personal armoury, where his suits stood like sentinels waiting for action.

“There are multiple individuals with extraordinary heat signatures en route to the Tower,” JARVIS replied, his tone clipped with urgency. “Their temperatures are continuing to rise at an alarming rate.”

Tony’s mind went into overdrive. “Where’s Harry?”

“Currently attending his Mathematics class, sir.”

“Good. Alert the teachers, get them out of the Tower if possible. If evacuation isn’t an option, send them and Harry to the bunker. And make sure Loki goes with them.”

“Right away, sir.”

The bunker beneath the Tower was one of Tony’s post-attack improvements, created after Loki’s invasion. The rooms had been fortified to withstand almost anything: explosions, biological attacks, even low-level magical interference. It wasn’t perfect, but it would buy time if trouble escalated.

Moments later, the metallic hum of his armour filled the air. Tony stepped into position, letting his suit converge around him. It was a dance he’d perfected: the machinery attaching seamlessly as he moved. The HUD blinked to life as the helmet snapped into place, and Tony launched himself toward the landing pad.

When he arrived, the rest of the Avengers were already there, a mix of determination and readiness etched on their faces. Relief flickered through him; Harry and Loki were nowhere in sight.

“Anyone got the spark notes on what’s happening?” Tony asked as he landed, the repulsors in his suit hissing as he touched down.

Clint stepped forward, his bow slung over his shoulder. “It’s a group SHIELD’s been tracking for months. We linked them to the recent terrorist attacks across the country, the ones claiming to be the Ten Rings.”

Natasha folded her arms, her expression sharp as a blade. “They’ve been planning this for a while. Looks like they decided to make you their target.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “Why me? Did I invent something cooler than them?”

“You rejected Aldrich Killian’s pitch,” Natasha said curtly.

“Killian? Who’s that?”

“A guy who wanted your support for his project years ago. You agreed to meet with him, but you blew him off.”

“And now he wants me dead?” Tony groaned. “Because I said no to his idea? Someone didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.”

Natasha’s lips twitched, but her voice stayed serious. “It’s more than that. Killian’s using Extremis, a genetic modification serum that gives its subjects enhanced abilities. They’re stronger, faster, and capable of generating extreme heat.”

“And melting things,” Clint added. “They’ve been turning themselves into walking bombs, incinerating buildings, and killing anyone in their path.”

Steve stepped forward, his shield gleaming in the afternoon light. “Is there any way to stop them without killing them?”

Clint shook his head, his tone grim. “We haven’t found one. Their bodies run so hot they’re on the verge of combustion. The only ways to take them down are to overheat them until they explode or freeze them solid before they can.”

Steve frowned, his jaw tightening. “So they’re a danger to themselves and everyone around them.”

“Exactly. And they’ve got no problem taking out entire blocks to make a statement,” Natasha added.

Tony exhaled sharply, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. “Alright, what’s the play?”

Steve took charge, his voice steady but commanding. “Clint, you take a high vantage point and provide cover. Natasha, stay close and assess their weaknesses on the ground. Thor and Hulk, you’re on heavy containment. Keep them away from civilians at all costs. Tony, you’re with me for crowd control and cleanup.”

Tony gave a mock salute. “Got it, Cap.”

Steve’s gaze swept over the team. “Remember, they’re dangerous. Keep your distance and be ready for anything.”

The gravity of the moment sank in as Steve gave the final call. “Avengers, assemble.”

With that, the team dispersed, each member leaping into action with practiced precision. Tony activated his thrusters, the roar of his suit cutting through the tension. As he soared into the sky, he couldn’t help but glance back at the Tower.

Harry would be safe. JARVIS wouldn’t let him down.

But the thought of these walking bombs, these Extremis soldiers, targeting the people he cared about ignited a fire in Tony’s chest.

Aldrich Killian had made a grave mistake.

~~~~~

The streets outside the Tower were already a battlefield. The heat radiating off the Extremis-enhanced attackers warped the air, and Tony could feel the intense pressure rising in his chest as he surveyed the chaos. He wasn’t the kind of guy to shy away from a fight, but these... walking infernos were a whole different level of danger.

“We need to neutralize them fast!” Steve’s voice cut through his comms. He stood at the front, shield raised, as one of the attackers charged toward him, flames licking from their skin.

The enemy moved fast, but Steve was faster. With a roar, he launched his shield, knocking the Extremis soldier off course. But the soldiers were already back on their feet, their body glowing bright orange as the heat surged again, and they hurled themselves at Steve.

Tony didn’t wait for orders. His suit hummed as he soared down, landing between Steve and the enemy, his repulsors aimed at the soldier. “Not today, hothead,” he muttered, blasting the soldier back with a concentrated blast of energy. The Extremis-enhanced person screamed as they collided with a nearby building, the heat sizzling against the stone like a furnace.

Thor appeared from the side, Mjolnir raised high, crackling with energy. He swung the hammer with godly strength, knocking two of the attackers off their feet in a single strike. “By Odin’s beard, these creatures are as stubborn as they are hot-tempered!” he roared, his voice booming through the battlefield.

“They won’t go down easily,” Natasha said, firing an explosive arrow from her bow. The arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself in the chest of another soldier. There was a brief second of stillness before the soldier’s chest exploded, sending a shockwave through the area.

Clint was above them, perched on a rooftop, eyes sharp. “Got your six,” he called, releasing a volley of arrows. Each one found its mark, either directly hitting the Extremis soldiers or detonating in a burst of shrapnel. The heat didn’t seem to faze Clint. His cool demeanour was a perfect match for the chaos unfolding beneath him.

Meanwhile, Hulk was smashing through the streets, taking the fight directly to the heart of the enemy. His roar shook the very ground as he threw his massive fists at the remaining soldiers, sending them flying like ragdolls. “HULK SMASH!” he bellowed, knocking another Extremis soldier unconscious with a brutal punch.

Despite their overwhelming strength, the soldiers weren’t going down without a fight. One of them, now covered in a crackling aura of heat, charged at Tony with blistering speed. The air around them shimmered with the intensity of the flames as they came at him. Tony raised his repulsors, but the heat was so intense it was causing interference with his systems.

The Extremis soldier reached him, and with a flick of their wrist, they slashed across his chest, leaving a burn mark where the suit had failed to block the blow. Tony grunted, feeling the sting of it, but he wasn’t about to let it stop him. He powered through, delivering a quick blast of energy that knocked the soldier back, but the damage was done.

"That stings," Tony muttered to himself, wincing as his suit’s diagnostics flashed on the HUD. Minor injuries, nothing he couldn't handle, but he'd need to keep his focus.

Steve, seeing Tony’s struggle, charged in. He swung his shield with precision, knocking the soldier into the air before Tony blasted him into a nearby wall with a repulsor pulse. The soldier crumpled in a heap, the heat radiating from them now almost extinguished.

“I’ll take care of the cleanup,” Steve said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.

Tony nodded, keeping an eye on the situation. “We’ve got more incoming; just keep it together.”

Clint’s voice crackled in their comms. “I’m out of arrows for the big ones. Need some backup down here!”

"On it," Natasha replied, swinging through the air and landing beside Clint. “We need to take them down quickly, or they’ll tear through the whole block.”

Thor raised Mjolnir once more. “Then let us end this,” he declared, as lightning coursed from the hammer, striking the final two remaining soldiers. The explosion was enough to knock the remaining attacker’s unconscious, their glowing bodies finally dimming as their heat dissipated into the cooling air.

The Avengers stood amidst the wreckage, their bodies bruised but victorious. The streets around them were smoking, the remains of destroyed vehicles and shattered buildings scattered across the area.

Tony flicked his comms on, his voice still sharp despite the strain. “J, get the damage report, and make sure the civilians are evacuated. No one’s getting caught in this mess.”

“Already on it, sir,” Jarvis responded.

Steve walked over to Tony, who was inspecting the damage to his suit. A charred line across the chest, but nothing too serious. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just a scratch,” Tony muttered. “Could’ve been worse.” He looked over at the team. Natasha and Clint were already moving to secure the area while Thor and Hulk were taking care of the last of the attackers.

“Looks like we made it through in one piece,” Steve said, his voice lighter.

“For now,” Tony added. “But next time we get a warning like this, I’m taking them out with a remote-controlled drone. No more getting up close and personal with walking fireballs.”

The others gathered around, their expressions a mix of relief and fatigue. Despite the minor injuries, there was no doubt about it: the Avengers had won the day.

Tony looked up at the burning sky, feeling the weight of the battle but also the rush of victory. There was still work to do, but for now, they’d earned a moment of peace. He couldn’t help but worry about Harry, despite knowing he was safe at the tower.

~~~~~

The piercing wail of the emergency alarm shattered the usual calm of Harry’s Maths class. His head snapped up, heart racing, as Jarvis’s calm voice informed them of an impending threat.

“Please proceed to the evacuation point,” the teacher said hurriedly, gathering her belongings before bolting for the exit. Harry, however, stayed put. Seconds later, the elevator doors opened, revealing Loki standing inside, his expression unreadable.

“Come along,” Loki said, his tone curt but not unkind.

Harry stepped in, his heart still thundering. “Do you know what’s going on?” he asked, his voice tight with worry.

“No, I do not,” Loki replied evenly, standing tall like a sentinel in the confined space. “I was with Thor when the Avengers were summoned. Jarvis informed me shortly after that I am to remain with you in the bunker.”

The elevator hummed as it descended, but the silence between them was heavy. Harry tried to focus on the soft whirring, anything to keep his thoughts from spiralling. His dad and the rest of the Avengers were out there, heading into danger. He wanted to help, to do something, anything, but he knew better. Tony had made it clear: Stay safe. Stay put.

Still, the helplessness gnawed at him. He’d faced danger before, run headfirst into chaos when others would flee. But this wasn’t his fight. He clenched his fists, frustrated but resigned.

The elevator dinged, and Loki stepped out first, ushering Harry into the secure bunker. The room was fortified with layers of reinforced steel and magic, the air cool and sterile. Loki’s hands moved deftly, weaving additional wards across the entrance with practiced ease.

“What about Apollo and Hedwig?” Harry blurted, his voice cracking slightly. His familiars were more than just companions; they were family, and the thought of them in harm’s way twisted his stomach.

“I will fetch them,” Loki said, his tone calm but firm. “Stay here.”

Before Harry could protest, Loki vanished into the shadows, his presence gone in an instant. Harry paced the room, his mind a chaotic storm of what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. His dad, the team- what if they didn’t come back?

Moments later, Loki reappeared, holding Apollo and Hedwig with care. Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief, though the tightness in his chest didn’t fully ease.

“They’re safe,” Loki said, setting them down gently.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered, reaching out to stroke Apollo’s sleek scales. Hedwig nipped his fingers affectionately, her amber eyes bright with awareness.

Loki studied him for a moment before speaking. “Your worry is palpable,” he said softly. “Come, let us turn your mind to something more productive.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, his brow furrowing.

“We shall delve into magical theory,” Loki replied. “A mind occupied with learning cannot dwell endlessly on fear.”

Harry nodded reluctantly. They sat together at the table, and Loki conjured a tome filled with intricate diagrams and glowing runes. As Loki explained the principles of advanced warding, Harry found himself drawn into the complexities of the craft. But every so often, his mind drifted back to the fight raging above them, the anxiety tightening his chest anew.

Jarvis’s updates every thirty minutes were a double-edged sword. The AI’s calm reassurances helped ease Harry’s worry, but the waiting was excruciating. Loki noticed and, with a flick of his wrist, conjured a plate of sandwiches and two steaming mugs of tea.

“You must eat,” Loki said, sliding a plate toward Harry.

Harry tried to muster an appetite but only managed to pick at his food. The tea, however, was warm and soothing, and he was grateful for Loki’s quiet presence.

“You’re my favourite uncle, you know,” Harry said suddenly, his voice soft but sincere.

Loki raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I am honoured,” he said, inclining his head.

The hours stretched on, and though Loki kept him engaged with discussions about magical resonance and the theory of temporal charms, Harry’s mind remained tethered to his father. He tried not to imagine the worst, focusing instead on the sound of Loki’s voice and the rhythmic scratching of Apollo’s claws against the tabletop.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jarvis’s voice broke the silence.

“The Avengers have been victorious,” he announced. “They are en route back to the Tower with minimal injuries.”

Harry exhaled sharply, the tension flooding out of him in an overwhelming wave. Relief left him lightheaded, and he sank back into his chair, grinning despite the tears welling in his eyes.

Loki placed a hand on his shoulder, his touch steady and grounding. “Your father is resilient,” he said. “As are the others. You need not have doubted their strength.”

Harry nodded, his heart still racing but filled with gratitude. “Thanks, Loki,” he said quietly.

“You are most welcome,” Loki replied. “Now, let us prepare to greet them. I suspect your father will want a full report of your time in the bunker.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at that, racing towards the elevator. It seemed to move agonizingly slow as Harry leaned against the wall, willing it to go faster. His heart pounded in his chest, a chaotic drumbeat of relief and urgency. They’re back. Dad’s okay. The thought repeated in his mind like a mantra, but it wasn’t enough to calm him.

When the doors finally opened to the penthouse, Harry didn’t hesitate. He bolted out, his shoes skidding slightly on the polished floor. He barely registered the others, Steve’s tired but reassuring nod, Natasha’s subtle wave, as his eyes locked on the landing platform.

Tony’s suit detached piece by piece as he stepped away from the platform, his movements deliberate and measured. The exhaustion in his posture was clear, but he was upright, unhurt. He was alive.

Harry didn’t wait for the suit to fully dock. He sprinted forward, the relief bursting from him in an unstoppable wave. Tony turned just in time to see Harry throw himself at him. The force of the hug made Tony stagger back a step, but he caught Harry easily, his arms wrapping around his son with equal fervour.

“It’s okay, son,” Tony murmured, his voice soft and steady, the way he would when he soothed Harry after a nightmare. He felt the dampness of tears soaking into his shirt where Harry’s face was pressed against his chest. “I’m home now. I’m safe.”

Harry didn’t reply, only tightened his grip as though letting go would make Tony disappear. Tony rested his chin on Harry’s head, one hand coming up to rub slow, reassuring circles on his back.

Behind them, the rest of the team exchanged quiet, knowing glances. Steve gave a small nod, and Natasha tilted her head toward the elevator, signalling the others to give them space. One by one, they filed out, leaving the pair alone.

Tony let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The weight of the fight, the danger, the sheer terror of leaving his son behind- all of it hit him now, in the quiet of the penthouse, with Harry clinging to him like a lifeline.

“I was so scared,” Harry finally whispered, his voice muffled against Tony’s chest.

“I know,” Tony said, his voice cracking slightly. He pulled back just enough to tilt Harry’s chin up, meeting his red-rimmed eyes. “I know, kiddo. I’m sorry you had to go through that. But I promise you, I’ll always do everything I can to come back to you.”

Harry nodded, sniffling as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “You didn’t do anything reckless, did you?”

Tony smirked, though the corners of his eyes softened with warmth. “Not this time. Figured I’d give your old man a break from the heroics. Let the team handle the crazy stunts for once.”

Harry managed a watery laugh, and Tony felt a surge of relief. He tousled Harry’s hair gently, his smirk giving way to a genuine smile.

“Come on,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulders and steering him toward the couch. “Let’s sit down. You can tell me all about how Uncle Loki kept you entertained while I was out saving the world.”

“You mean while you were being careful,” Harry corrected, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Tony chuckled, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere. “Exactly, kid. Careful.”

For the first time that day, the weight on Harry’s chest began to lift. Sitting beside his dad, feeling the warmth of his presence, he knew they’d be okay.

Chapter Text

Dumbledore sat in the high-backed chair of his office, staring into the swirling depths of his pensieve. The room, usually a sanctuary of wisdom and calm, felt heavy with the weight of his mounting failures. The flickering light of the candles cast jagged shadows on the walls, mimicking the disarray in his mind.

His fingers steepled under his chin, he let out a slow, measured sigh. Everything was slipping through his fingers. Once, his influence had been unshakable, a guiding force shaping the wizarding world. Now, it felt like a house of cards, crumbling one piece at a time.

The titles stripped from him had been the first blow. He was banned from stepping foot into American soil, and other countries weren’t looking at him favourably. And now the school board, the last vestige of his once unassailable authority, was murmuring about his potential removal as headmaster. It was an insult he had never anticipated, one that stung deeper than he cared to admit.

What went wrong? The thought gnawed at him like a parasite. For years, his plans had unfolded with meticulous precision. Now, the threads unravelled faster than he could weave them back together.

Snape had been his loyal instrument for decades, a blade sharp and efficient, wielded in shadows. But even he was slipping from his grasp. The man had grown cold, detached, and worse, defiant. The last time they spoke, Snape’s thinly veiled fury had been palpable. His anger wasn’t directed at Harry but squarely at him, and Dumbledore had yet to find a way to steer him back into line.

He tapped his fingers against the armrest, considering the alternatives. Perhaps Neville Longbottom could be shaped into a replacement for Harry. The boy had potential, buried deep beneath layers of fear and uncertainty. But no, Neville lacked the charisma, the raw magnetism needed to inspire others. He would never be the figurehead the wizarding world required.

He needed an ally with connections to America. Newt Scamander had been his first thought and hope. But even that avenue was sealed shut. Newt’s silence had been deafening. Every letter returned unopened; the parchment unmarked save for the faint creases of rejection. It wasn’t surprising, Newt often went months with no contact to the outside world. He had always been more devoted to his creatures than to the cause. Yet, Dumbledore had hoped the bond they once shared would be enough for the man to respond to him.

It wasn’t.

His eyes shifted to the window, where the faint, menacing silhouettes of Dementors circled the grounds. Their presence had been his idea, a calculated move to keep Hogwarts under control while projecting the illusion of protection. But Sirius Black’s continued evasion had turned it into a bitter reminder of his diminishing power. The Dementors were supposed to draw him out, to corner him into making a mistake. Instead, it was as though Black had vanished off the face of the earth.

And then there was Harry.

The boy was untouchable, nestled under Stark’s ironclad protection and surrounded by allies Dumbledore couldn’t influence. He had underestimated Stark, underestimated the muggle’s determination, his resources, and his refusal to play by anyone else’s rules. Harry, too, was proving more resilient, more self-assured, than Dumbledore had anticipated. It was a dangerous combination.

The frustration clawed at him, a cold and gnawing sensation that even his phoenix’s warm presence couldn’t soothe. Fawkes let out a soft trill, sensing his master’s unease, but the sound did little to calm the storm inside.

I must adapt, he thought grimly. This is not the end. It is merely a setback. Yet, the doubts lingered, creeping into the corners of his mind like smoke. For the first time in decades, Albus Dumbledore wasn’t sure he could win.

~~~~~

At Avengers Tower, the hum of normalcy slowly returned in the wake of the recent battle. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind a quiet determination in its place. Harry, though initially shaken by the events, found solace in the rhythm of his daily routine. The memory of his dad flying into danger haunted his dreams for a few nights, but he pushed past it with the resolve of someone far older than his years.

For Harry, the experience became a catalyst. He dove into his studies with renewed fervor, as if arming himself with knowledge could somehow shield the people he loved. Books and scrolls piled high around him as he tackled both magical theory and non-magical subjects with equal intensity. His teachers noticed the change, but none dared to slow him down; they could see the purpose behind his efforts and didn’t want to stand in his way.

By the time November rolled around, the buzz in the Tower shifted with Harry’s upcoming O.W.L.s. The exams were a significant milestone, and Harry approached them with the same quiet focus that had defined him in the past weeks. When the day of the exams finally arrived, he was prepared, perhaps even overprepared. He breezed through each test with ease, his answers flowing effortlessly as though he’d known the material for years.

The waiting period for results stretched on, but Harry’s teachers were unanimous in their predictions. “O’s and E’s across the board,” His one professor had said confidently, He’s exceeded every expectation we had.” Having taken twelve exams, many of which combined theory-heavy and practical components. Harry had impressed even the most demanding instructors with his calm, methodical approach.

In the midst of this magical success, Harry’s non-magical studies continued at a similarly breakneck pace. His tutors had been astonished by how quickly he caught up to and then surpassed his peers. By the end of the year, they had convinced him to sit for his placement exams in early January.

“You’re more than ready, Harry,” one of his tutors assured him during a session. “Take the exams while the material is still fresh in your mind. At this rate, you’ll think they’re child’s play by summer.”

Harry had hesitated initially, feeling the weight of yet another set of tests. But the logic was sound, and after a brief conversation with his dad, he agreed. The placement exams, he learned, could be taken on his own schedule as long as the necessary government approvals were processed ahead of time. Tony had made sure that was never an issue.

As the days moved forward, the mood at the Tower became lighter. Harry’s nerves settled into excitement, and his confidence grew with each passing accomplishment. Tony watched with quiet pride, marveling at his son’s determination. It reminded him of his own drive, but there was something different about Harry, something purer. Harry wasn’t chasing accolades or validation; he simply wanted to protect the people he cared about.

It was an unspoken bond between them now, a shared understanding that neither put into words. Instead, Tony supported Harry in his way, offering encouragement, tinkering with gadgets Harry might need, and making sure there was always time for the two of them to decompress.

The Tower thrived once more, alive with the subtle undercurrent of growth and recovery. Harry was finding his stride, and the Avengers themselves, though battle-worn, seemed more connected as a team than ever. In the quiet moments, Tony would glance at Harry, engrossed in his studies, and feel a surge of hope. We’re stronger together. He’s stronger than I ever imagined.

Tony and Steve continued their delicate dance, navigating the uncharted territory of their evolving relationship. Tony was careful not to push too hard, knowing that Steve’s instinct to retreat was deeply ingrained. Instead, he let their moments unfold naturally, small gestures and fleeting touches filling the spaces between them. Tony wasn’t in a rush; he knew these things took time, and he was content to let Steve come to terms with his feelings at his own pace.

For Steve, it was a slow, cautious process. The idea that he could allow himself to want someone, let alone Tony, was new and unsettling. But there was something undeniably magnetic about Tony’s presence. His wit, his brilliance, the way he looked after the people he cared about, it was hard not to be drawn in. Steve wasn’t ready to dive headfirst into anything, but he was beginning to let the idea settle in his mind. And that was enough for now.

Meanwhile, the search for Bucky remained relentless, a constant undercurrent of tension running through the team. Even with the aid of the magical world, Hydra’s web of secrecy proved formidable. Every lead, no matter how promising, seemed to evaporate into thin air. Each base they identified turned out to be a ghost town by the time they arrived—equipment left in disarray, evidence of hurried departures, but no trace of life.

The frustration weighed heavily on Steve, though he tried not to show it. Bucky was more than a mission to him; he was a tether to Steve’s past, a living reminder of who he once was. Tony saw the strain in Steve’s shoulders, the way he carried himself with a little less ease after each fruitless raid. He didn’t press Steve to talk about it, but he was always there, a quiet presence offering support in the way only Tony could.

Though the setbacks were disheartening, the team was making progress against Hydra. Each base they raided brought them one step closer, not just to Bucky, but to dismantling the organization piece by piece. The Avengers and their magical allies worked in tandem, uncovering small but critical details about Hydra’s operations. Every scrap of intel felt like a victory, a glimmer of hope in the midst of their frustration.

Tony, for his part, threw himself into the effort with his usual gusto, leveraging his technological genius to outmanoeuvre Hydra’s tricks. He’d even begun experimenting with magical enhancements to his tech, consulting Harry and Loki when he hit a wall. Though he joked about being the least magical person in the room, his determination to make progress was anything but a joke.

For all their challenges, the team found moments of connection amid the chaos. Late-night planning sessions often gave way to shared meals and quiet conversations, small reminders of why they fought so hard in the first place. And though the search for Bucky weighed heavily on everyone, there was a collective resolve that they would find him, no matter how long it took.

For now, Tony and Steve’s tentative steps toward each other mirrored the team’s slow but steady march forward, progress measured in inches, but progress nonetheless.

~~~~~

By the first week of December, the Tower was transformed into a festive wonderland. Twinkling lights adorned every corner, garlands wrapped around the sleek metal railings, and a towering tree in the common room shimmered with ornaments and a carefully placed star. Harry was in awe. The decorations made the Tower feel alive, brimming with warmth and cheer. It felt more magical than Hogwarts had ever managed, even without a single spell involved.

Clint was particularly enthusiastic, planning to bring his family to the Tower for the holidays. Harry was excited at the prospect of having children around, even if they were younger. He’d never spent much time with kids outside of school, and the idea of a proper family holiday, filled with laughter and shared moments, was a new kind of joy for him.

In the meantime, Harry continued his rigorous training schedule with Natasha and Clint. Sparring with Natasha had become a weekly ordeal, one he approached with a mix of dread and determination. She was a fierce teacher, quick and unrelenting, and even with training weapons, Harry often walked away covered in bruises. Despite the physical toll, he was improving. Each session lasted a little longer before he inevitably hit the mat, and Nat was always there with a sly smile and a hand to pull him back up.

Tony had expressed his concerns about Harry being pushed too hard. The last thing he wanted was for his son to turn into a soldier. But Natasha had reassured him with quiet confidence.

“I’m not training him to fight battles, Tony,” she’d said. “I’m teaching him to stay alive if trouble finds him. And let’s be honest, trouble loves him. It runs in the family.”

Tony couldn’t argue with that, though the thought still weighed on him. He made a point of checking in on Harry, whether through the Tower’s cameras or dropping by the training room, just to make sure the kid was still smiling.

As Christmas approached, Tony found himself agonizing over the perfect gift for Harry. He’d already bought enough presents to fill an entire room, but none of them felt personal.

They were things, plentiful of new console games, gadgets, tools, books- but nothing meaningful. It was Steve who unknowingly gave him an idea.

During a late-night chat, Steve had casually mentioned how much he valued the few photos he had from before he was frozen. “Pictures help you hold onto the moments you don’t want to forget,” he’d said. The idea stuck with Tony.

He began pulling together photos from his childhood, snapshots of his life with the Avengers, and every picture he could find of Harry since he’d come into their lives. It became a project, a labor of love. Every page of the album felt like a step closer to showing Harry just how much he mattered.

Watching Harry through the cameras one evening, Tony marveled at the bond that had formed between him and Loki. In the training room, Loki was guiding Harry through a spell, speaking Parseltongue with surprising fluency. Tony still found it incredible that Loki had taken the time to learn the language, all to help Harry master his magical potential.

“Villains can be reformed,” Tony muttered to himself with a smirk. “Just gotta find them the right hobby.”

Sometimes, though, it felt like he was co-parenting with the Norse god. Loki had an uncanny knack for stepping in with advice, guidance, or just a sharp comment that somehow resonated with Harry. It was an odd arrangement, but Tony couldn’t deny its effectiveness. Harry was thriving, and for now, that was what mattered most.

Tony was standing over a monitor in his lab, his focus still glued to the feed showing Harry and Loki practicing magic in the training room. He heard the faint swish of the lab doors opening and turned, only to see Steve standing there, a curious expression on his face.

"Spangles, you need anything?" Tony asked, his attention snapping back to the monitor. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve minimized the feed, but he found himself hesitating.

Steve crossed the room with deliberate steps, moving to stand just behind Tony. His presence was warm, steady, and oddly comforting.

"Watching Harry again?" Steve asked, his voice soft as he hooked his chin over Tony’s shoulder to look at the screen.

Tony froze, caught off guard by the closeness. His face burned crimson, and his words came out in a nervous tumble. "Just, uh, making sure they aren’t blowing things up again."

Steve hummed in response, his eyes lingering not on the screen but on Tony.

"So, uh—Cap—" Tony started, only to be interrupted.

"Steve," the other man corrected gently.

Tony swallowed hard. "S-Steve, what’s up?"

Steve leaned in closer, his cheek brushing against Tony’s. The faint smell of aftershave and warmth enveloped Tony, making it hard to think straight.

"Just wanted to see what you were doing," Steve murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Couldn’t get you out of my mind."

Tony blinked, his heart skipping a beat. This newfound confidence in Steve was unexpected, and Tony wasn’t sure whether to lean into it or panic.

"Not that I’m complaining about this charmingly bold move," Tony quipped, his voice slightly higher than usual, "but where’s it coming from, Spangles?"

Steve pulled back slightly, just enough to look Tony in the eye, though their faces remained close.

"Because I’m done running," Steve said, his tone steady but tinged with vulnerability. "I’ve lost someone I loved before because I hesitated, and I sacrificed myself instead of giving us a chance. And let’s be honest, Tony- we’re both self-sacrificing idiots. I don’t want either of us to regret anything this time."

Tony’s breath caught, and for once, he had no clever comeback. Steve’s hands settled gently around Tony’s waist, grounding him, and slowly turning him around until they were facing each other.

Their foreheads touched, and Tony could feel the weight of the moment settling over them like a warm blanket.

"So," Tony whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips, "are you going to kiss me, or are we just going to stand here getting uncomfortably philosophical?"

Steve chuckled softly. "I thought you’d never ask."

He leaned in, and their lips met in a gentle kiss. It wasn’t fireworks or a grand, sweeping moment; it was tender, deliberate, and filled with unspoken emotion. Tony smiled into the kiss, and Steve followed suit, their lips moving together as if they’d done this a thousand times before.

When Steve pulled away, his smile was soft and full of affection. Tony grinned back, the tension in his chest replaced with something light and hopeful.

"Glad you finally grew a pair," Tony teased, his usual cheekiness returning.

Steve chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Do you want to give this a real shot? You and me?"

Tony pretended to consider, though the answer was already clear. "You know, I never thought I’d date someone so much older than me, but hey, I’ve got daddy issues."

"Tony!" Steve groaned, laughing despite himself.

"Alright, alright," Tony said, his tone turning serious as he looked up at Steve. "Let’s give it a shot. But Harry is my first priority. Always."

"I wouldn’t expect anything else," Steve assured him, leaning in again for another kiss.

Before their lips could meet, a loud boom came from the monitor behind them. Both men turned to see a plume of smoke on the screen.

"I hate to interrupt, sir," Jarvis’s voice chimed in, calm as ever, "but Master Harry and Loki appear to have caused another explosion."

Tony groaned, already pulling away from Steve and heading toward the door. "Thanks, J. We’re on our way."

Steve watched Tony practically stumble out of the lab, his usual quick wit lost in a flurry of movement. By the time Steve reached the elevator, it was already on its way down. With a resigned sigh, he took the stairs, moving with steady purpose to the training floor.

When he arrived, he was greeted by the sound of Harry’s laughter ringing through the room. Loki stood nearby, his expression caught between exasperation and amusement, while Tony was doubled over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Steve!” Harry called out, his face lighting up as he spotted him. “You should have seen it! I never thought a spell for silence would make so much noise!”

“That’s because you put too much power into the spell,” Loki said, his tone sharp but not unkind, his scowl tempered by the faint twitch of his lips.

Harry grinned sheepishly as he picked up Apollo, who had been dozing on a plush pillow nearby. “I was just trying to see if it could go further!”

Tony straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Loki?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry, though the edge of panic was already fading.

Loki sighed, folding his arms. “Don’t fret, Stark. What Harry said is true. I was teaching him one of my own spells, a barrier that cancels out sound within its bounds. He mastered it, but then he decided to push more power into the spell without fully understanding its structure. The result was… well, the opposite of silence.”

Tony visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping as he let out a breath. “And you’re sure he’s alright?”

“Of course,” Loki replied, his voice cool and unbothered. “I’ve already checked him over. The worst consequence is some ringing in the ears, which has already subsided.” He raised an eyebrow, adding with a wry smirk, “I am well aware that you monitor our lessons, Stark, but I wasn’t expecting Captain America to join the surveillance.”

“I wasn’t,” Steve said quickly, his cheeks darkening. “I was just… with Tony.”

“Hmmm,” Loki mused, his sharp eyes narrowing playfully. “Doing what, exactly? Should I be preparing to set up silencing spells around your quarters?”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed, his blush deepening as words failed him.

“No, not yet,” Tony quipped with a mischievous grin, slinging an arm around Loki’s shoulders. “But we’ll take you up on that offer later.”

The god stiffened, a flush rising to his pale cheeks. “I… what?”

Tony chuckled, his grin widening as he nudged Loki. “Don’t go all shy on me now, Reindeer Games. You’re the one who brought it up.”

Loki spluttered, his face now matching the crimson of Steve’s.

Meanwhile, Harry, watching the exchange with wide eyes, tilted his head and whispered to Apollo.

“What are they talking about? Why is Dad laughing, and why do Uncle Steve and Loki look like tomatoes?”

Apollo stirred from his pillow, his golden eyes gleaming as he fixed Harry with a steady look. “It is not something you need to concern yourself with, hatchling. When you reach maturity, you will understand.”

Harry pouted slightly, but Apollo closed his eyes again, signalling the conversation was over.

Tony glanced back at Harry, noticing his son’s confusion and barely stifled curiosity. He winked at him, earning a hesitant smile in return. Turning back to Loki and Steve, he couldn’t help but laugh again. “C’mon, you two. Let’s go before Harry decides to ask more questions.”

The group left the training room, their dynamic a comfortable blend of familial chaos and newfound closeness.

~~~~~

“Newt! The Hippogriffs are in heat… again!” Sirius shouted over the paddock, his voice tinged with a mix of urgency and exasperation as he maneuvered carefully among the agitated creatures. His boots squelched in the muddy terrain as he secured the feed bins.

Newt Scamander appeared in the doorway, his calm demeanour a stark contrast to Sirius’s flustered state. “Indeed, they are,” he remarked, tilting his head as he observed the Hippogriffs. “The potions they were fed at the trading ring must still be lingering in their system. Best be quick about it—you wouldn’t want to be chewed up. They’re particularly ornery in this condition.”

Sirius muttered something under his breath, casting a wary glance at the largest Hippogriff before finishing up his task. Once everything was in order, he hurried out of the enclosure, sighing in relief as he set his equipment back in the storage shed.

“Merlin’s beard,” he grumbled, wiping his hands on a rag. “I sometimes question our sanity, you know. But I suppose you already do that for both of us.”

Newt didn’t respond immediately, his attention absorbed by the stack of letters in his hand. His brow furrowed deeply as he read through them, a shadow of irritation crossing his usually placid face.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, leaning against the doorframe of the shed.

“Nothing,” Newt replied, though his tone suggested otherwise. He waved a parchment vaguely. “Dumbledore is trying to contact me again. Persistent as ever. It seems he still hasn’t realized that you’re a free man now.”

Sirius tensed for a moment, but the mention of Dumbledore no longer carried the sharp sting it once did. Therapy and time had dulled the edge of that wound. “Well, let him keep barking up the wrong tree,” he said with a shrug. “You’re not biting, are you?”

“Certainly not,” Newt assured him. He sifted through the remaining letters, his expression shifting slightly when he picked up another one. “Ah. That reminds me. There’s something I’ve neglected to mention.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? What’s that?”

“I’ll be taking on a student this summer,” Newt said matter-of-factly as he folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket.

Sirius blinked. “You? Taking on a student? That’s unheard of.”

“Yes, well,” Newt replied with a faint smile, “the student was quite insistent. He’s homeschooled in magic and is unable to study magical creatures throughout the year. But he has a clear passion for the subject, and he intends to sit for his O.W.L.s after our summer lessons.”

Sirius leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “The whole summer? That’s a pretty big commitment, even for you.”

“Not quite the whole summer,” Newt clarified. “Only about four weeks. It will focus on the practical aspects of Care of Magical Creatures, the kind of work that can’t be gleaned from books alone.”

“So, who is this kid?” Sirius asked, tilting his head. “Must be someone important if they managed to convince you to take them on.”

“Harry Stark,” Newt replied evenly.

“Harry Stark…” Sirius repeated, frowning in thought. “No clue who that is. A Muggle-born, then?”

“I’m not certain of his blood status,” Newt replied, his voice carefully neutral.

In truth, Newt knew exactly who his future student was. He followed Muggle news more closely than most wizards and was well aware of the boy’s connection to both the Avengers and the magical world. But Newt had decided it was best to keep this particular piece of information to himself, at least for now.

He glanced at Sirius, whose expression betrayed only mild curiosity. Sirius’s focus was better spent on his own healing for the moment. When the time came, the revelation would be a good surprise, one that might even help Sirius reconnect with Harry in a meaningful way.

The boy’s father, Tony Stark, had been fully informed of Sirius’s presence at Newt’s sanctuary, as well as the events of the trial that had cleared Sirius’s name. Whether Harry himself knew the truth yet was another matter entirely.

Newt smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. If the situation allowed it, he wouldn’t mind playing the role of a meddlesome grandfather figure. He hadn’t had the chance to raise children of his own, after all.

For now, though, he kept his thoughts to himself and returned to sorting through the letters, leaving Sirius to ponder what kind of student could inspire Newt Scamander to break his solitary habits.

~~~~~

The next morning, the quiet hum of the kitchen surrounded Steve and Tony as they sipped their coffee. The early hour cast a soft golden light through the windows, but despite the tranquil setting, the air between them was tinged with a faint awkwardness. They were still navigating this new territory of being a couple, a dynamic complicated further by Tony’s role as a single parent.

Steve leaned casually against the counter, watching Tony absentmindedly swirl his coffee. Harry wasn’t up yet, too early for a teenager, but Tony seemed distracted, his furrowed brow hinting at thoughts far removed from the present moment.

“What’s on your mind?” Steve asked, his tone gentle as he set his mug down. He worried for a moment that Tony might be second-guessing their relationship.

Tony sighed, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the ceramic mug. “It’s Harry,” he said after a pause, his voice low and contemplative. He glanced at Steve and caught the puzzled expression on his face. Realizing he hadn’t fully explained, Tony shifted his weight and tried again.

“He doesn’t really have any friends his age,” Tony admitted, his words heavy with concern. “I mean, there’s Hermione, but they can only really talk during the holidays. Magic and technology don’t exactly get along, and while we’ve managed to make a few things work here, we can’t bridge that gap entirely, not yet.” He sighed again, his shoulders slumping. “I’m worried that spending so much time around us, adults who’ve seen more than our fair share of horrors, that he’s not developing the way a normal teenager should. Socially, emotionally... I just don’t know if I’m giving him what he needs.”

Steve listened intently, his brow furrowing as he considered Tony’s words. “Why not ask him if he’d want to join a school next year?” he suggested.

Tony shook his head, setting his mug down on the counter. “He’s determined to finish his magical education first. And honestly, at the pace he’s going, he’ll probably outpace the American education system in no time. He might not even need to go to school after that.”

“What about Midtown High?” Steve asked. “They’ve got a reputation for fostering gifted kids, and their programs go well beyond what most schools offer.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully. “That’s likely where he’ll end up. It’s close, and they’d challenge him in ways that matter. But it’s still at least a year away, and I don’t want him to feel isolated in the meantime.”

Steve stepped closer and gently took the mug from Tony’s hands, setting it aside before pulling him into a warm embrace. His hands moved soothingly along Tony’s back, offering comfort as Tony rested his forehead against Steve’s shoulder.

“Maybe a club or a sports team,” Steve suggested softly. “Or even group lessons,

something he could do in the afternoons or on weekends. It’d give him the chance to meet kids his age, build friendships, and feel like part of something outside of our world.”

Tony leaned back slightly, considering the idea. “That’s... not bad. It could work. I’ve thought about asking some of the rich families I know if their kids are around his age, but I scrapped that idea pretty quickly. I don’t want him anywhere near the kind of people I grew up with.”

Steve smiled, brushing a hand along Tony’s jawline. “Then find something that’s just his speed, something that’ll let him be himself and connect with others naturally.”

Tony’s lips curved into a small grin as he looked up at Steve, a spark of hope in his eyes. “I’ll talk to him about it,” he said, his voice carrying a renewed determination.

“Good,” Steve replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“Morning,” Harry mumbled through a yawn as he shuffled into the kitchen, his hair an unruly mess.

Tony and Steve froze mid-motion, their expressions a mix of surprise and guilt. Harry wasn’t supposed to be awake yet.

The teenager raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You two finally worked out your feelings for each other?” he asked with a grin, grabbing a bowl and pouring cereal. The milk, conveniently left on the counter, followed.

Tony and Steve exchanged panicked looks, caught like kids with their hands in the cookie jar. Harry, however, seemed utterly unbothered as he sat in his usual seat, spooning cereal into his mouth and watching them squirm.

When Tony’s brain finally rebooted, he stepped out of Steve’s loose embrace, his cheeks flushed. “You… don’t mind us being together?” he asked cautiously, his tone hesitant. If Harry wasn’t okay with it, Tony knew he wouldn’t continue the relationship, no matter how much he wanted to.

Harry didn’t even blink. “As long as you’re happy, I don’t mind,” he said with an easy shrug, his spoon clinking against the bowl.

Steve, still unsure, ventured, “Even about us being men?”

Harry set his spoon down, giving Steve a bemused look. “Steve-o, wizards and witches date whoever they want all the time. Same sex, different species, you name it. And there are potions that let two men, or two women have kids that are genetically theirs, so it’s not a big deal.” He smirked faintly. He would be a hypocrite if he was against it, considering he was pretty sure he was bisexual. “Be with whoever you want, just don’t hurt my dad. Otherwise…” Harry’s voice dropped, turning serious. “I won’t hesitate to make you regret it.”

“I would never,” Steve replied solemnly.

“Good.” Harry returned to his now-soggy cereal, nonchalantly pouring in more to freshen it up.

Tony let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. For once, he felt like he might not be screwing everything up.

Steve and Tony busied themselves making a more balanced breakfast, but Harry was content with his sugary cereal, brushing off Tony’s teasing about it. Not long after, Steve excused himself to train, or something that sounded equally like an excuse, and left the two Starks alone in the kitchen.

Tony took a seat across from Harry, propping his chin on his hand. “So, kid,” he started, trying to sound casual. “I’ve been thinking. I’m a little worried you don’t have any friends your own age.”

Harry looked up, blinking. “I have Hermione,” he pointed out.

“I know, and she’s great,” Tony agreed. “But you can’t really talk to her or see her much while she’s at school.”

“I don’t really need anyone else. I’ve got you, Steve, and everyone else in the Tower.”

Tony sighed, his fingers drumming against the table. “I love that you get along with everyone here, but it’s not exactly healthy. We’re all adults, and not the best role models when it comes to normalcy. Most of us have seen war, lost people, and carry enough trauma to fill a warehouse. I don’t want that weighing on you. You deserve friends your age, kids who can help you feel like a regular teenager.”

Harry mulled this over, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Okay… so what do you suggest?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe you could join a club or a sports team. Or take some group lessons, something where you’d meet other kids and make connections outside of the Tower.”

Harry hesitated, fiddling with his spoon. “There’s actually something I’ve been wanting to try,” he admitted.

Tony’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? What’s that?”

“Dance classes. Like ballet,” Harry said, his voice steady despite the hint of colour rising in his cheeks.

Tony leaned back in his chair, clearly surprised but not displeased. “Ballet? That’s… unexpected. Are you sure? It’s a tough activity, especially for guys. You’ll need serious discipline.”

“I know,” Harry replied confidently. “But I’ve talked to Nat about it. It’s a great way to train your body for flexibility, balance, and strength. Plus, if I can make some friends while I’m at it, why not?”

Tony’s smile widened. “Alright, but only after your exams. Deal?”

“Deal,” Harry said, grinning. He was determined to ace his tests and prove he could handle it.

“I’ll look into finding the best classes, somewhere with good people, not snobs,” Tony said, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, with a knowing look, he added, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Nat’s ‘dance fighting’ moves, would it?”

“Maybe…” Harry said, unable to suppress a grin.

Tony ruffled his son’s hair affectionately. “Figures. What else should I expect with the assassin twins teaching you?” Harry laughed, swatting Tony’s hand away.

Tony leaned against the counter, a teasing grin on his face. “So, what do you think of my boyfriend?”

Harry didn’t miss a beat, smirking up at his dad. “I don’t know… think he could have done better.”

Tony feigned mock outrage, narrowing his eyes at his son. “Oh, you think so, huh?”

Harry darted toward the living room, laughing, but Tony was quicker. He grabbed Harry by the arm and, with practiced ease, hoisted him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey!” Harry squealed, laughter spilling out uncontrollably.

Tony smirked, bouncing him a little for effect. “You want to say that again, kid? Think your old man isn’t all that?”

Harry wriggled helplessly, gasping between bouts of laughter. “Alright, alright, I give up!”

“That’s what I thought,” Tony said triumphantly, setting Harry back on his feet, but not before catching him in a playful headlock and thoroughly ruffling his already wild hair.

“Okay, you win!” Harry laughed, breathless and grinning. He managed to wriggle free, stepping back just out of reach. “Still think Steve could’ve done better, though,” he added cheekily before sticking his tongue out and making a break for the elevator.

Tony lunged for him but stopped short as the elevator doors slid closed faster than usual.

“You’re a traitor, J!” Tony called out, hands on his hips as he glared at the nearest ceiling camera.

Jarvis’s voice came through, calm and faintly amused. “I must protect my younger brother, sir. It is, after all, what you programmed me for.”

Tony rolled his eyes, though his grin lingered. “Yeah, yeah. Gang up on the old man. Real original.”

“If we are considering chronological age, sir, Captain Rogers would be the oldest resident in the Tower.”

Tony let out an exaggerated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “My own creation and my son, teaming up against me. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“You’ll recover, sir,” Jarvis replied, the faintest hint of humor lacing his tone.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re lucky I don’t hold grudges,” Tony muttered, but the smile on his face betrayed him.

Chapter Text

The day before Christmas dawned crisp and bright, the kind of day that reminded Tony why he loved New York in winter, though today wasn’t about enjoying the city. Tonight, he and Harry were attending a high-profile charity gala, and Tony was determined to make sure Harry’s debut into his world went smoothly.

This wasn’t just any first event. It was a test of resilience, charm, and wit against the sea of social sharks that were always lurking at such events. Tony knew Harry would handle himself well; the kid was smart, quick, and more grounded than Tony had ever been at his age. But the tabloid vultures and opportunistic guests? That was another story entirely.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, wishing for the hundredth time that Steve could be there. Having Steve by his side would steady him, but they weren’t ready for the world to know about them yet. That storm would come eventually, and when it did, it was going to be one hell of a mess.

For now, Tony focused on the present. Natasha was running Harry through a crash course in personal safety, her voice calm but firm as always. Harry sat on the couch, legs crossed and a notebook in his lap, as if this were just another lesson in defence.

“So,” Harry recapped, his tone deadpan but his eyes sharp, “if some creep, old or otherwise, tries to touch me inappropriately, I either pull out my knife or knee them where the sun doesn’t shine?”

Natasha’s lips curved into a small, approving smile. “Exactly. And after that, you let Tony or me handle the rest.”

Harry tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his expression. “And by ‘handle,’ you mean...?”

Natasha’s grin widened, her tone turning wickedly nonchalant. “A little blood, maybe some maiming, and making sure they end up behind bars. Eventually.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know. What about Dad? What if someone tries something with him?”

Tony, who’d been leaning against the counter watching the exchange, stepped in before Natasha could answer. “Kiddo, don’t worry about me. I’ve got enough… hidden precautions that most people know better than to try anything. And for the record, I haven’t touched a drink since the New York invasion. So, no, nobody’s going to mess with me.”

Harry nodded but didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Still. If someone does, I’ll be ready.”

“Good,” Natasha said, giving Harry a firm nod. “Just remember, if something happens that feels wrong or even confusing, anything, you tell Tony or me immediately.”

“I promise,” Harry said earnestly.

Tony smiled, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Alright, champ. Go grab a shower. The stylist is going to be here any minute, and we’ve got to make sure you’re looking sharp.”

Harry rolled his eyes but obeyed, setting his notebook down and heading off to his room.

Once Tony was sure Harry was out of earshot, he turned to Natasha, his expression serious. “Who’s shadowing us tonight?”

“I’ll be following directly,” Natasha replied, crossing her arms. “Clint will be on standby nearby in case anything goes sideways.”

Tony nodded, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. “Good. I don’t want any surprises tonight, Nat. Nothing can happen to my kid.”

“You have my word,” Natasha said, her voice as steady as steel.

Tony exhaled deeply, nodding again. For all his genius and bravado, when it came to Harry, he was just a dad trying to shield his kid from the worst of the world. Tonight, that job felt heavier than ever.

~~~~~

The stylist was fussing over Harry’s hair, her movements meticulous as she tried to tame the unruly curls into something elegant. Natasha leaned casually against the doorway, her sharp eyes scanning the room, but her presence exuded a sense of quiet protection. Meanwhile, Tony was in his own room, finishing the final touches on his outfit when Steve entered, the door clicking softly behind him.

Tony glanced up in the mirror, his lips quirking into a smile as Steve approached. “What do you think, Spangles? Do I scream ‘philanthropist billionaire with a heart of gold’ or ‘man waiting for the open bar’?”

Steve chuckled, stepping closer. “You look great,” Steve murmured, reaching out to straighten Tony’s tie. The red shirt paired with gold accessories was pure Iron Man, and Steve couldn’t help but find it endearing. He smoothed the fabric, his hands lingering for a moment before he leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Tony’s lips.

Tony leaned into the touch, but when Steve pulled back, the soft smile on his face faltered at Steve’s serious expression. “You’ll be safe, right?” Steve asked, his voice low but firm.

“Of course.” Tony’s tone was light, but the intensity in Steve’s gaze made him pause. “I mean it, Tony. Don’t let anyone take advantage of you or Harry.”

Tony softened, reaching up to touch Steve’s hand. “I won’t, Steve. Nat’s watching us like a hawk, and you know me, I don’t exactly make for an easy target. But I promise, no one’s going to get the upper hand.”

The tension eased from Steve’s shoulders slightly, though concern lingered. “Good. Just... don’t forget you have people who care about you now.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “And who would be devastated if something happened.”

Tony’s lips curved into a sly grin, ever the master at deflecting heavy emotions. “Well, as long as those people include you. But hey, if someone does try something, I’ll make sure to save the ‘damsel in distress’ act for you.”

Steve huffed a laugh, his cheeks colouring. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you’re still here. Speaking of which, when are you going to take me on a proper date? You’re so old-fashioned; I figure a candlelit dinner is the least you could do.”

Steve rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “Maybe sooner than you think. Now go knock them dead.”

Tony winked, stealing one more kiss before heading for the door. “I’ll hold you to that, Cap.”

As they walked back into the main living space, the stylist was packing up her tools, and Harry sat patiently, his hair styled into something neat but still very him. He glanced up, narrowing his eyes playfully at the adults.

Steve cleared his throat, avoiding Natasha’s knowing smirk. “You ready for your first gala, Harry?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

Harry gave a dramatic sigh. “As excited as a niffler with no gold,” he deadpanned. “But sure, maybe I’ll terrorize a few old men who think the sun shines out of their ar-”

“Harry!” Tony interrupted quickly, shooting a warning glance at the stylist, who raised an amused eyebrow but said nothing. “You’ll have a great time,” he corrected smoothly, then turned to the stylist. “Thanks for your hard work. Jarvis has your payment squared away, right?”

“Already done, sir,” the AI chimed in smoothly.

The stylist nodded her thanks and made a polite exit, though Tony could tell she’d be repeating this story to her friends later.

“As I was trying to say,” Harry continued once she was gone, “maybe I’ll amuse myself by messing with a few old farts who have nothing better to do.” He crossed his arms. “What’s so bad about the word ‘arse,’ anyway?”

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Because I’d rather not give the tabloids any ammunition to paint me as the world’s worst parent, that’s why. Trust me, the headlines write themselves.”

“So, what, I’m not allowed to say anything remotely rude all night?” Harry asked, the incredulity clear in his tone.

“Oh, you can,” Tony replied, grinning. “Just not when someone with a camera, a recorder, or a notepad is within earshot. Or, better yet, make sure it’s subtle enough to go over their heads.”

“Got it.” Harry stood, brushing invisible lint off his jacket. “Are we ready to get this over with?”

“You and me both, kid. Happy should have the car ready.” Tony followed Harry to the elevator, pausing just long enough to press a quick goodbye kiss to Steve’s lips. He glanced at Natasha, his expression hardening slightly.

“Nat,” he said quietly, the words heavy with meaning.

“I’ve got him,” Natasha replied simply, her voice as steady as steel.

Satisfied, Tony stepped into the elevator, giving Steve one last smile before the doors closed.

~~~~~

Harry adjusted the cuffs of his black suit jacket, the soft fabric a reminder of the effort Tony had put into making sure everything was perfect for his first gala. The green button-up he wore added a pop of colour, a subtle nod to his individuality. Loki had picked it out, claiming it suited Harry’s “mischievous but refined” nature. While Harry liked the shirt, he mostly appreciated not matching Tony completely. That would have felt too on-the-nose.

He lingered by the food table, a safe haven amidst the swirling sea of overly cheerful faces and clinking champagne glasses. Tony had disappeared ten minutes ago, drawn into an enthusiastic conversation about clean energy with a group of scientists. Harry hadn’t minded at first, but as more strangers approached him with polite small talk and overly familiar smiles, he quickly grew weary. His fingers danced across his phone screen as he texted Hermione, who, bless her, was staying up late just to entertain his grumbles about the evening.

Harry: “Imagine me trapped in a room with a hundred Malfoys, all grinning like Cheshire cats. That’s this gala.”
Hermione: “Stay strong, Harry. One day, you’ll look back on this and laugh. Maybe.”
Harry: “Doubt it. But thanks for suffering through this with me.”

Lost in the comforting banter, he was startled when someone cleared their throat nearby. Harry looked up to see another teenager standing in front of him.

The boy had dirty blonde hair that fell in soft waves across one eye, which was a striking shade of icy blue rimmed with grey. He was taller than Harry by a few inches, and though his posture was relaxed, there was an air of uncertainty in his expression as he stuck out his hand. He looked to be a year or two older than him.

“Uh, hi,” the boy said awkwardly. “I’m, uh, Harry.”

Harry blinked, then broke into a grin as he shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Harry too- Harry Stark, to be precise.”

The boy laughed lightly, his grip firm but friendly. “Harry Osborn. Nice to meet you too, Stark. Mind if I call you that? Otherwise, this could get real confusing.”

“Only if I can call you Osborn,” Harry countered, his grin widening.

Osborn smirked. “Deal.”

For a moment, the noise of the gala faded into the background, and Harry felt a little less out of place.

“So, did you get dragged to this thing too?” Osborn asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Dragged is the right word,” Harry replied, leaning casually against the table. “My dad thought a charity gala on Christmas Eve would be a good introduction to this world. I think he just didn’t want to show up alone.”

Osborn chuckled. “Could be worse. My first gala was the Annual Brag Fest in July. Supposed to be about raising funds for the less fortunate, but it’s really a competition for who can make the biggest splash. Half the donations end up being stuff the charities can’t even use. I swear, one year, someone donated an actual yacht.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “A yacht? What are the charities supposed to do with that?”

“Sell it, usually.” Osborn sighed, a trace of bitterness in his tone. “Rich people love to flaunt their wealth, no matter who it’s for. Your dad’s different, though. He might like the spotlight, but he actually cares about the causes. My dad... not so much.”

There was a weight in Osborn’s words that Harry chose not to press. Instead, he shifted the conversation. “Where are you from?”

“Used to live in New York, but we moved to Florida a few years back. Still got a place here, though.” Osborn tilted his head. “You’re from the UK, right?”

“Yeah. Spent my whole life there until a few months ago. I don’t miss the weather, that’s for sure.”

Osborn chuckled, but his attention wavered as his gaze drifted across the room. Harry followed his line of sight to see a man standing a few feet away. He looked unwell; his pallor was sallow, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of something invisible yet heavy. The man beckoned, and Osborn sighed.

“Looks like I’ve got to go,” Osborn said, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket. He scribbled something on it and handed it to Harry. “It was nice meeting you, Stark. Let me know if you ever want to hang out.”

Before Harry could respond, Osborn turned and walked toward the man, his expression shifting to something more reserved. Harry watched them go, then looked down at the paper in his hand. Written in a slightly messy scrawl was a phone number and the words: “Hit me up. Could use someone who gets it.”

Harry slipped the paper into his pocket, a small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe this gala wasn’t a total bust after all. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Tony striding toward him. His dad’s face was a study in contrast: his lips pressed into a thin line, his shoulders tense, yet his expression brightened as he neared. Harry’s curiosity was piqued, especially when he noticed Tony glance toward the skylight.

Following his dad’s gaze, Harry squinted upward. High above, Natasha moved like a shadow, her silhouette barely distinguishable against the skylight. She held something in her hand, likely a weapon, but from this distance, it was impossible to tell.

“Harry,” Tony said, draping an arm around his son’s shoulders, his tone light but laced with urgency. “Hope you enjoyed yourself, because I sure didn’t. Let’s get out of here, huh? We’ve done our civic duty, smiled at the right people, dropped some cash in the donation bin. Time to call it a night.”

Before they could move, a man appeared out of nowhere, stepping into their path. Harry noticed the way Tony’s posture shifted, his body going rigid as the man slung an arm around his shoulder.

“Tony, so good to see you here,” the man said, his voice oily and insincere. “Thought you weren’t coming after the incident at the last gala.”

Tony’s jaw tightened, but he forced a thin smile. “Hammer. I thought you were keeping a low profile after the whole ‘paying your way out of prison’ debacle.”

The man, Hammer, Harry presumed, laughed, the sound grating and hollow. “Ah, you know how it is, Tony. Can’t be held responsible for every little thing my company does without my knowledge.”

Harry frowned. Even to him, the lie was glaringly obvious. Hammer’s gaze shifted to him, his smirk widening. “And who’s this? Don’t tell me- this is your bastard son?”

The words hung in the air like a slap, and Harry saw the way Tony’s hands curled into fists, his knuckles whitening as he fought for control.

“Don’t know where you’re getting that rumour, from” Tony said, his voice low and steady, though his eyes burned with restrained anger. “But let me set the record straight: my son is not a bastard. And you don’t talk to him unless he talks to you first.”

Tony shifted slightly, positioning himself between Harry and Hammer, his protective stance unmistakable. Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he quickly checked it. A message from Natasha flashed on the screen:

“Get your dad out. Now. Before this gets ugly.”

Harry tugged gently at Tony’s sleeve, catching his attention. Tony glanced down, his gaze softening at the worry etched on Harry’s face. He exhaled sharply, then turned back to Hammer with a forced smile.

“As much as I’d love to continue this... delightful chat, Hammer, we were just leaving,” Tony said, his tone brisk. “So, if you’ll excuse us...”

Without waiting for a response, Tony grabbed Harry’s arm, steering him toward the exit. They moved quickly, Tony’s steps purposeful as they made their way to the waiting car. Happy was already outside, standing by the sleek vehicle, and opened the door for them without a word.

The tension in the air lingered as they slid into the backseat. Harry glanced at his dad, whose usual quick wit had been replaced by a stony silence.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Harry asked softly.

Tony hesitated, his eyes flickering toward the window before he answered. “Hammer,” he said finally. “He’s not a good guy. He’s been trying to fill the gap I left when I got out of the weapons business, but he’s doing more harm than good. Shady deals, dangerous tech... and he always manages to buy his way out of trouble. He’s the kind of person you’re better off avoiding.”

Harry nodded, sensing the weight of the encounter had shaken Tony more than he let on. The car stopped briefly a block away from the venue, and Natasha climbed in, her movements fluid and purposeful.

Tony remained quiet for most of the ride, his tension palpable, but Harry struck up a conversation with Natasha. She recounted snippets of her surveillance, including a few amusing observations that made Harry laugh. In turn, Harry shared his impressions of the evening, the boring small talk, the stiff pleasantries, and meeting Harry Osborn.

“He seems like a decent kid,” Tony said, “Nothing like his father, from what I’ve heard.” The hint of a smile tugged at his lips. Maybe his kid was better at this social thing than he gave him credit for. Time would tell, but for now, Tony was just relieved the night was over.

~~~~~

Tony burst into Harry’s room with the enthusiasm of a sugar-loaded kid on Christmas morning, "Jingle Bells" blasting from portable speakers. The Santa hat perched askew on his head added to the chaos as he bounded around the room, singing off-key. Harry groaned, pulling his blanket tighter around him, as the absurdity of the scene slowly registered.

He glanced at the clock. Six a.m. Barely. While Harry liked Christmas, more so since he’d started spending them at Hogwarts, he liked his sleep even more. Still, the sight of Tony so gleeful would make him laugh later. Right now, though, it was far too early for carolling.

“Merry Christmas!” Tony bellowed when he saw Harry stir, his grin wide enough to split his face. With that, he disappeared out the door, music following him down the hall like an excitable puppy.

A familiar, calming voice spoke up. “Good morning, Harry. It seems that sir has embarked on a festive crusade this morning,” Jarvis remarked dryly, “and I regret to inform you, I was unable to dissuade him.”

Harry sighed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “It’s fine, J. Just earlier than expected, that’s all.” He burrowed deeper under the covers, reluctant to face the chill air despite the heaters humming in the background.

“I should mention that breakfast is ready, and I have delayed clearing the frost and snow from the building exterior at sir’s request. He mentioned something about preserving the ‘Christmas spirit.’”

“Figures,” Harry muttered, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Thanks, J. I’ll head down in a bit.”

Dragging himself out of bed, Harry slipped into his slippers and headed downstairs, still in his pyjamas. The kitchen was mercifully quiet, so he took the opportunity to make himself a mug of hot chocolate, savouring the rare tranquillity.

The peace was short-lived. Soon, the elevator chimed, and a group of half-asleep or thoroughly disgruntled Avengers shuffled out, led by the inescapable sound of Tony’s Christmas playlist.

Harry followed the group into the lounge, where they claimed spots on the couches or sprawled across the floor. He settled next to Steve, who looked like he was about to nod off. Meanwhile, Tony, fully in his element, played the role of "present fairy," distributing gifts with flourish.

Though there weren’t as many presents as on Harry’s birthday, there were still plenty. He unwrapped a pile of clothes featuring Avenger logos, some new games for his consoles, and more chocolate than he could eat in a week.

One particular gift caught his attention: a book from Hermione about well-known heroes and their stories. He ran his fingers over the embossed cover, smiling at her thoughtfulness. Another package, from Neville, contained a letter urging Harry to stay in touch, along with a plant that Harry would have to research later. There was a box of chocolates from the Weasley twins and a knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley, red with a gold "H."

His hands hesitated when he realized Ron hadn’t sent anything. The omission stung, but Harry pushed the thought aside. He hoped their friendship would survive the distance and the changes.

“And now, the grand finale,” Tony announced, handing Harry a final gift. “From all of us.”

Harry carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a large, meticulously crafted photo album. He flipped through the pages, his eyes widening with surprise and warmth. Each page told a story, a timeline of his life with his new family. Pictures of him with Tony, Steve, and the Avengers filled the album, along with older photos he didn’t recognize.

“These are your grandparents,” Tony explained, pointing to one image. “And that’s Jarvis, my family’s butler, and me when I was a kid.”

Harry’s throat tightened, emotions surging. “Thank you,” he said, his voice soft as he set the album aside and hugged Tony tightly. “Thank you, everyone. This means so much.”

Steve leaned into the hug, adding his warmth to the moment. Soon, it became a full-blown group hug as the rest of the Avengers joined in. Awkward angles and all, it felt perfect.

Later, they gathered around the kitchen island, sharing breakfast together. Harry messaged Hermione, hoping she liked her gift, and shot a quick text to Osborn. The two had exchanged a few messages the night before, and Harry was beginning to enjoy the idea of a budding friendship.

Tony, his earlier exuberance mellowed, sipped his second cup of coffee with a contented smile. Harry, now on his second breakfast, couldn’t help but feel a rare sense of belonging, a feeling he never thought he’d have.

Chapter Text

The week between Christmas and New Year’s was unusually calm at Stark Industries. Most of the staff had gone on holiday, leaving only a handful of researchers and engineers wrapping up end-of-year projects. The usual hum of activity in the labs was reduced to a faint murmur, making the perfect time for Tony to finally give Harry a proper tour of the company.

"These are the micro-reactors we’ve been developing," Tony said as they entered one of the quieter labs, gesturing to a sleek, compact device on a workbench. "They're part of my push for more sustainable energy solutions. These little guys could power everything from cars to small towns, eliminating dependence on fossil fuels."

Harry leaned in to get a closer look, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch the glossy surface of the reactor. "They’re smaller than I thought. How do you keep them stable?"

"Carefully," Tony quipped with a smirk. "There are a lot of redundancies in place to prevent meltdowns, but the real challenge is making sure they can’t be weaponised."

Harry raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with humour. "What, like you did?"

Tony spun around dramatically, one hand over his heart. "Iron Man is not a weapon," he said, mock indignant. "It’s a protective device designed for flight and, okay, yes, the repulsors pack a punch, but that’s just a happy side effect."

“Sir,” Jarvis

interjected, his tone dry but amused, "Might I remind you of the numerous other functionalities that the suit is capable of?"

Tony sighed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Can’t have any fun, can I? Even my AI turns against me."

Harry laughed, the sound ringing warmly in the otherwise sterile lab. "So, what’s the next step with these reactors?"

Tony grinned, diving back into explanation mode. "I’m working on miniaturising them even further for consumer tech, phones, wearables, you name it. But making sure they’re foolproof is the real headache. No one wants their smartphone doubling as a pocket grenade."

Harry's curiosity sparked another thought. "Are you still working on integrating them with magic?”

“Drumm and I have been tinkering with that idea. He’s more of a sorcerer than a wizard, whatever that means, so we’ve hit some snags. He’s off chasing leads on how magic, and tech can coexist. But there’s progress on another front, our magic search engine."

"Wait, you’re making a magical search engine? That’s brilliant!" Harry’s green eyes gleamed with fascination.

"Yep," Tony said, leading him to another workstation displaying screens full of text and runes. "We’re calling it 'Magic Google' for now, placeholder name, obviously.

We’ve secured rights to some contemporary publications and are navigating wizarding copyright laws for older works. It's a logistical nightmare; every country has its quirks. In the U.S., luckily, it works the same as non-magical copyright, where anything over fifty years old goes into the public domain, but other places? The rights pass to the author’s next living relative. Do you know how hard it is to track people down when they don’t even use phones?"

"Sounds exhausting," Harry admitted.

"It is. But some Ministries have been cooperative, which helps. Jarvis is already organising the data we’ve uploaded so far, but I’m building a separate AI to manage the search engine itself.

“That’s cool,” Harry said, his eyes full of fascination, “Hermione will definitely want to know about this. Have you thought about any names for it yet?”

“I thought about MAGOIC, Mystical Archive of Global and Omnipotent Information and Curiosities. But that sounds a bit too dramatic and foreboding for my taste.”

"What about SPELL, Sorting Pages of Enchanted Lore and Lunacy?" Harry suggested.

Tony chuckled, clearly impressed. "Not bad, kid. I’ll add it to the shortlist."

As they left the lab, Tony clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. "Enough of the boring stuff. Let me show you the fun lab."

The next lab they entered was a stark contrast to the previous one. Where the micro-reactor lab had been sleek and orderly, this one was a chaotic jumble of prototypes, parts, and half-finished gadgets.

"Welcome to R&D’s playground," Tony said with a grin, gesturing around.

"What is all this?" Harry asked, taking in the haphazard collection of devices.

Tony pointed to a hoverboard suspended mid-air by an unstable-looking force field. "That’s the hoverboard we’ve been working on. Still ironing out a few, uh, minor bugs."

As if on cue, the hoverboard wobbled violently, shooting sparks before abruptly crashing to the floor. Harry instinctively stepped back, his eyes wide.

"Okay, so maybe more than a few bugs," Tony admitted, inspecting the wreckage with a sheepish grin. "But we’ll get there."

Next, Tony picked up a small, boxy robot with blinking lights and a vaguely cheerful expression painted on its front. "This little guy tells bad jokes. A passion project of mine."

"Why?" Harry asked, genuinely baffled.

"Because the world needs more terrible humour," Tony said with mock seriousness. He pressed a button, and the robot chirped to life.

"What do you call a magical owl?" the robot asked in a robotic monotone.

Harry groaned, already knowing what was coming.

"Hoo-dini!" the robot finished proudly.

Tony grinned like a proud father, while Harry shook his head, trying not to laugh. "You’re unbelievable."

"Thank you," Tony replied, taking it as a compliment.

By the time they finished the tour, Harry’s mind was buzzing with ideas and possibilities. Stark Industries was so much more than he’d imagined, a blend of cutting-edge technology and a dash of Tony’s eccentric charm.

As they stepped into the elevator, Harry glanced up at his dad. "Thanks for showing me all this."

"Of course, kid," Tony said, ruffling Harry’s hair. "You’re family. And who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be the one leading a tour like this."

Harry smirked. "Only if I get to show off the bad-joke robot."

Tony laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet elevator. "Deal."

Loki made an unexpected appearance as they hopped off the elevator, sweeping Harry away for what he dramatically called a "magical adventure." Tony didn’t protest; he trusted Loki enough not to let anything happen to the kid. Still, curiosity got the better of him. A quick glance at the monitors in his lab revealed the so-called "adventure" involved the two of them lounging on a couch and watching Hercules. Tony chuckled to himself.

"Classic Loki," he muttered, turning back to the Iron Man suit he was fine-tuning.

He’d just started tinkering with the left repulsor when Steve stepped into the room.

“Hey, handsome,” Tony greeted, a warm smile spreading across his face. “What brings you here? Got another report about the tower fridge being raided by Clint?”

Steve grinned, leaning down to press a soft, teasing kiss against the corner of Tony’s lips. “I was wondering if you were free for a date.”

“For you? Always,” Tony replied, already setting down his tools. He grabbed the jacket he’d tossed over a chair earlier and shrugged it on. As they walked out, he waited for Jarvis to confirm the lab was locked before letting Steve take the lead.

“Before we head out, we’ll need disguises,” Steve said, holding out a baseball cap and a pair of thick-framed glasses for Tony.

Tony quirked an eyebrow, but he took them anyway. “Because nothing screams inconspicuous like Clark Kent chic.”

Steve laughed, adjusting his own cap and oversized flannel, which successfully masked his broad frame. “You love it.”

“I like you, so I’ll let it slide,” Tony teased as they stepped onto the streets of New York.

The cold December air nipped at their faces as they strolled through the city hand-in-hand, their disguises doing a decent job of keeping them under the radar. Steve led them to Central Park, where they bought hot dogs from a street vendor and found a quiet bench overlooking the pond.

For a while, they simply talked, their conversation flowing easily. They discussed Harry’s progress with his studies, the team’s recent dynamics, and the biting chill that had overtaken the city. Then, as they ate, a comfortable silence settled over them, the kind that only came with being completely at ease in someone’s company.

Steve eventually broke the quiet. “I just wanted to say thank you,” he said softly, his voice carrying a rare vulnerability.

Tony glanced at him, surprised. “What for?”

“For asking me to come with you to London,” Steve began, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Ever since then, my life hasn’t been the same. Before that, I felt like I was just… existing. Living from one mission to the next, waiting for orders. But now…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “Now, I’m waiting for the missions to end. So I can come home. Be with you and Harry. You’ve brought colour back into my life, Tony.”

Tony blinked, caught off guard by the depth of Steve’s confession. His heart swelled, and a faint blush crept up his cheeks. “You big sap,” he managed, his voice softer than usual. He reached for Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Thanks for coming with me. I don’t think I would’ve held it together if you hadn’t been there. Finding out about what Harry went through…” Tony shook his head, his voice tight. “I might’ve done something reckless. I needed you more than you know.”

Steve squeezed his hand, offering a small, reassuring smile. He wanted to kiss Tony then and there, but held back, knowing better than to risk drawing attention.

After finishing their food, Steve led Tony to an old bookstore tucked away on a side street.

“You’re full of surprises tonight, Rogers,” Tony said as they stepped inside, the scent of aged paper and leather binding enveloping them.

“I thought you might like it,” Steve replied, glancing around the store.

Tony’s eyes lit up as he scanned the shelves. “Oh, I definitely like it. Look at these!” He dove into the rows of books, pulling out rare titles that didn’t have digital copies. Meanwhile, Steve browsed another section, his fingers brushing over books he remembered from his childhood.

When they were both hidden deep among the towering shelves, Steve suddenly turned to Tony. Without a word, he gently took the book from Tony’s hands, setting it aside before cupping his face.

“What are you—” Tony started, but Steve silenced him with a kiss.

It started slow, tender, but quickly grew more passionate. Steve pressed Tony against the shelf, his hands sliding down to rest on Tony’s hips before slipping under his shirt. Tony responded eagerly, his hands tangling in Steve’s hair as their tongues danced together in a fervent rhythm.

The creak of the front door and the jingle of the bell startled them apart. They were both breathless, their faces flushed as they exchanged sheepish grins.

“Well, that was... unexpected,” Tony murmured, smoothing his shirt as Steve chuckled.

“Didn’t hear you complaining,” Steve teased, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping back.

Tony laughed, a giddy sound that echoed through the quiet store. He returned to browsing, but there was a noticeable bounce in his step now. Steve followed him with a self-satisfied grin, feeling as though he’d just won the jackpot.

~~~~

Harry slouched on the couch next to Loki, the faint hum of the TV filling the room as the credits rolled on Hercules. With a sly grin, Harry turned to the god beside him.

“Not that this wasn’t entertaining, especially watching a Norse god critique a movie about Greek gods, but what are you really up to?”

Loki tilted his head, a feigned expression of shock and disdain crossing his face. “Can I not simply enjoy the company of my favourite magical child?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’m the only magical child you know.”

“Details, details.” Loki waved dismissively before leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. If you must know, your Captain requested my assistance. He needed someone to occupy you while he whisked your father away on a clandestine excursion.”

“Oh, well, that explains it.” Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not exactly a state secret.”

“Indeed, the dramatics seem unnecessary,” Loki admitted with a smirk.

Harry straightened up on the couch, the earlier cheekiness giving way to curiosity. “Since we’ve got time, do you think we could continue with the magic combat lessons?”

Loki’s expression softened, and he nodded approvingly. “Of course, little one. Your enthusiasm is admirable. Last time, we focused on enhancing weapons with spells and potions to amplify their effects. This time, I believe it’s best to teach you how to wield magic directly, to control a weapon with nothing but your raw power.”

“Like telekinesis?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Not quite,” Loki said, rising gracefully to his feet. With a flick of his hand, he conjured several gleaming practice knives, their edges shimmering faintly. “This technique allows you to imbue a weapon with your magic, letting it move according to your will, unbound by touch. Observe.”

Loki closed his eyes briefly, and the knives began to glow with a vivid green aura. They floated into the air, circling him in a graceful orbit before darting across the room in intricate patterns. Trails of emerald light followed their paths, leaving glowing arcs in the air. Loki adjusted their speed and direction with ease, making them spin and weave through the room like dancers in a mesmerising performance.

Harry watched in awe, his eyes wide. “That’s incredible.”

Loki lowered the knives with a satisfied smirk. “And now, it’s your turn. We’ll start with something simpler.” He summoned a small ball and placed it in Harry’s hands. “Focus on channelling your magic into the ball, but remain in control. Do not let it overwhelm you.”

Harry nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration as he held the ball. He tried to mimic Loki’s demonstration, imagining the energy flowing from his core into his hands. Several attempts ended in failure, the ball remained frustratingly inert, but finally, a faint turquoise glow flickered around it before fading again.

“Good,” Loki praised, his tone encouraging. “You’re beginning to grasp how to transfer your magic while maintaining control.”

As Harry continued practising, Loki observed the turquoise hue of Harry’s magic with keen interest. In Harry’s world of magic, each branch of magic tended to carry a colour, tied not just to its nature but to the intent behind it. Most explosive spells, for instance, burned with shades of red, while protective spells gleamed in calming blues. However, someone’s raw magic usually stayed one colour throughout their life.

Green magic, the colour Loki himself often wielded, symbolised growth and harmony. Which is rather ironic, considering his tumultuous nature. For him, it had always made sense; his magic drew from nature and the energies around him. But turquoise...

Loki tilted his head, intrigued. Harry’s magic wasn’t the fiery red of combat or even the mysterious purples of high-level sorcery that he had expected. Turquoise carried an air of wisdom and creativity, but it also resonated with healing and protection, qualities Loki might not have immediately associated with the boy.

“Interesting,” Loki murmured to himself.

Harry, still focused on the ball, caught the comment. “What’s interesting?” he asked, the glow flickering slightly as his concentration wavered.

“Nothing to distract yourself with now, little one. Focus,” Loki said smoothly, hiding the small smile tugging at his lips.

Harry shot him a curious glance but was too focused on his task to ask more. Slowly but surely, the ball began to float, wobbling clumsily through the air.

By the time Tony and Steve returned, Harry had managed to direct the ball in simple circles, albeit with occasional drops.

“You’re making progress,” Loki said with a nod of approval. “But remember, mastery comes with patience and practice. There’s no need to rush.” With a casual flick of his wrist, he dispelled the knives and handed the ball back to Harry.

Tony, stepping into the room, raised an eyebrow at Loki. “You didn’t turn him into a frog or anything, did you?”

Loki smirked. “Tempting, but no. I’d say he’s become quite adept under my tutelage. Far more disciplined than I expected, actually.”

Harry beamed, pride flickering across his face.

“Don’t let it go to your head, kid,” Tony said, ruffling Harry’s hair.

As the group settled back into the room, the air was warm with camaraderie, and Harry’s excitement about his magical progress was palpable. Loki reclined, a knowing smile on his lips as he watched Harry chat animatedly with Tony and Steve, the ball now floating steadily in his hand.

Chapter Text

The Tower felt unusually still. With the Avengers attending a New Year’s Eve charity gala, one of those high-profile events filled with politicians, reporters, and people who only smiled for the cameras, Harry was left behind in a fortress of glass and steel that suddenly felt much too big.

He didn’t really mind being alone; the noise of galas wasn’t his idea of fun. But tonight, the silence pressed in a little heavier than usual, broken only by the faint hum of the Tower’s systems. Even Jarvis seemed to speak softer, as if trying not to disturb the quiet.

Harry spun lazily in his chair before opening his laptop. If his friends in the magical world could see him now, sitting in one of the most technologically advanced buildings in the world, chatting across continents, they’d probably faint.

“Come on, come on…” he muttered, tapping his fingers impatiently as the video call connected.

Hermione’s smiling face filled the screen. “Harry! Finally! I wasn’t sure if the time zones would line up—oh—” Before she could finish, a blur of red hair shoved her aside.

“Harry, mate! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Ron bellowed, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

Harry winced at the volume. “Blimey, Ron, I’m right here. You don’t need to shout.”

“Honestly, Ronald,” Hermione huffed, smacking him on the shoulder. “He’s not deaf!”

Ron rubbed the spot where she’d hit him, but didn’t lose his grin. “Sorry, mate. It’s just—Hogwarts isn’t the same without you. Everything’s gone dull. Even Quidditch isn’t as fun when you’re not around.”

Harry laughed softly. “Sounds about right.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve finally got a decent Defence teacher for once,” Ron continued, leaning closer to the screen. “But Snape’s got it out for him. Hermione thinks he’s a werewolf—”

“I don’t think, I know,” Hermione interrupted sharply, folding her arms. “There’s clear evidence, Ronald.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “See? Insane. No way Dumbledore’d let a werewolf into the castle.”

Harry smiled, the warmth of the exchange easing the ache of homesickness that had been creeping up on him. “I’ve already heard some of this in your letters, but it’s good to hear it from you both. Really good.”

Ron perked up again. “So when are we seeing you, mate? Everyone’s been talking- about you leaving, about your dad… well, Tony Stark. Dean nearly exploded when he found out. Says it’s ‘bloody mental’ that you’re living with Iron Man. Hermione’s been showing me all these fancy Muggle things about him on the talking tome-”

“It’s called a computer,” Hermione corrected.

“Right, yeah, that.” Ron waved it off. “Anyway, he seems like a cool bloke. Bet he’d be a Gryffindor if he wasn’t a Muggle.”

Harry chuckled. “He says he’d be a Ravenclaw.”

Ron made a face. “Nah, he’s too reckless for that. Definitely Gryffindor material. Bit like Mione. Reckless, brilliant, can’t stay out of trouble.”

Hermione tried, and failed, to hide a smile. “I suppose that makes you a Slytherin, then, Ron, since you’re so good at stirring things up.”

Ron sputtered, red creeping up his neck, and Harry couldn’t help but grin. Something was definitely going on between those two.

“I’ll try to visit over summer,” Harry said after the laughter died down. “Or maybe you could come here. I’ll talk to Dad about it. He’s got all sorts of plans lately, but I’ll make it happen.”

“Brilliant!” Ron said. “It’ll be like old times, except, you know, with less homework and more flying cars.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. “How’s your studying going, Harry? Keeping up with your subjects?”

“Yeah, pretty well. Dad’s big on science, but he doesn’t mind me practising spells as long as I don’t blow up the lab again.” That earned him a snort from Ron and a horrified gasp from Hermione.

They talked for nearly two hours after that, about Quidditch matches, Professor McGonagall’s new glasses, the twins’ latest pranks, and the chaos of Christmas at the Burrow. Harry soaked in every word, every laugh, letting the sound of his friends’ voices fill the empty corners of the Tower.

Eventually, Hermione yawned and leaned into Ron’s shoulder. “We should get some sleep. We’re heading back to the Burrow in the morning.”

“Right,” Ron said, still grinning at the screen. “Don’t forget us when you become all famous with your billionaire dad.”

Harry smiled, a little sad but mostly content. “Never. Promise.”

The call ended, and the screen went dark, leaving Harry’s reflection staring back at him.
He sighed softly, leaning back in his chair, when his phone pinged with a message

From: Harry Osborn.

He couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at his lips. The two had struck up a strange but easy friendship over the last few days, built through shared sarcasm, mutual curiosity, and the occasional late-night chat about what it was like growing up with famous fathers, even with the other boy being two years older than him.

It didn’t hurt that Osborn was good-looking, in that polished, too-smart-for-his-own-good way.

Osborn: If you’re free, there’s a very boring party happening on some rich kid’s rooftop. Come keep me from dying of small talk.

Harry snorted. Osborn was always dramatic. His dad hadn’t exactly forbidden him from going out, just left his usual warning before the gala:
“Don’t get into too much trouble, and don’t live like I did at your age.”
Whatever that meant.

Happy was still around, and if not… Loki owed him a favour or two.

Stark: Are you the knight in shining armour or the damsel in distress?
Osborn: Definitely the knight in shining armor. You, however, can be the damsel I’m rescuing from the glass tower.
Stark: Send me the address. Be there ASAP.

Harry grinned and jumped to his feet, adrenaline buzzing under his skin. He pulled on a pair of dark skinny jeans, a crisp white button-up, and his leather jacket, a casual look, but with enough flair to look effortless.

Finding Happy was easy enough. Unfortunately, he found him watching something Harry immediately regretted seeing.
“Happy,” Harry said flatly. “I need a lift.”

The man fumbled for the remote. “You didn’t see anything.”

“Didn’t see a thing,” Harry promised, fighting a smirk.

Happy was all too eager to drive him across the city, saying nothing the entire ride. The quiet suited Harry; it gave him time to take in the glowing sprawl of New York. It still amazed him sometimes how different this world was from the one he’d grown up in.

~~~

 “Stark, you made it!” Osborn greeted, leaning casually against the entrance of a sleek apartment building. His smile was bright, the kind that could sell a headline.

The two of them passed through security without question. Of course, they did. The sons of billionaires walked through these doors like royalty.

“Finally,” Osborn said, falling into step beside him. “Now I can actually enjoy myself. I’ll introduce you to some people… girls your age, maybe guys, whatever you’re into.”

Harry nearly tripped over his own feet, heat rushing to his face. “I- uh- thanks?”
Osborn grinned wider, clearly enjoying the reaction.

“Relax. I’ll introduce you to both. Just avoid the kids whose parents barely made the guest list; they’re always looking for a scandal. And since you’re Stark’s kid, definitely steer clear of any politicians’ children.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Not that I’m into all that, but… who’s left, then?” Osborn hummed thoughtfully, glancing over the rooftop crowd. The night skyline glittered behind them, the thrum of music pulsing beneath the chatter.

“Well, there’s me, of course. A few kids from the UK, too- maybe you know of them. That’s Tiffany over there, the only politician’s kid you can even think about flirting with. She’s scandal-proof, mainly because she is known to get around with the guys. Gwen Stacy’s here too; her dad’s a police captain. Good head on her shoulders.”

Harry followed his gaze, taking in the clusters of laughing teens, champagne glasses clinking, the smell of expensive perfume and city smoke mingling in the air. It was another world entirely, one of privilege and performance.

“This is your party, isn’t it?” Harry asked suddenly, noticing the subtle way everyone glanced at Osborn before speaking to him.

Osborn’s grin turned smug. “Guilty. You caught me.” He gestured lazily across the rooftop. “That’s Kate Bishop, sharp as a knife, don’t get on her bad side. Danny Rand’s around here too, though he’s gone full monk lately. And Takeshi Matsuya, tech prodigy, orphan, bit of a loner. You might actually like him.”

He was about to go on when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“Oi, Potter!”

Harry froze. That voice. He turned, already sighing.

Draco Malfoy stood there, of all people, dressed in Muggle clothes that somehow still suited him. Beside him were the Greengrass sisters and was the blokes name Zabini? All looking equally out of place yet utterly confident.

Osborn blinked. “You know him?”

“Unfortunately,” Harry muttered.

“It’s Stark now, Malfoy,” he added coolly, folding his arms. “And what’s it to you?”

Malfoy smirked. “Oh, a change of name, and suddenly you think you’re one of them? Come to mingle with the peasants, have you?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You’d know all about peasants, wouldn’t you? Surprised they let you out without your bodyguards. What, did daddy not read the invitation? I’m sure love to hear his precious son’s ‘slumming it’ with Muggles.”

Osborn’s eyes flicked between them, fascinated, like he was watching a chess match.

“Gentlemen,” he cut in finally, hands raised. “As fun as this sexual tension is, let’s not start a scandal at my party.”

Malfoy sneered but turned away. “Very well, Osborn. See you around… Po-Stark.”
The group drifted off, leaving Harry and Osborn alone again.

Osborn turned to him, still amused. “What was that about?”

“We went to the same school,” Harry said shortly, crossing his arms. “He’s a prat.”

Osborn chuckled. “Maybe so, but the Malfoys have power. Money, old family titles, and I’ve never seen anyone talk to Draco like that.”

Harry shrugged, unbothered. “Let him run to Daddy. I don’t care. He’s just another spoiled prince who can’t stand being told no.”

Osborn laughed outright at that, shaking his head. “I think I’m really starting to like you, Stark.”

Harry smirked, glancing toward the skyline where fireworks were beginning to flicker faintly in the distance. “Careful, Osborn. You might actually mean that.”

“Maybe I do,” Osborn said, his grin softening for just a moment. “Just definitely not in that way.” And the moment was broken

~~~~

It was getting close to midnight, and Harry had been abandoned.

At some point between his second drink and Osborn’s third laugh, Gwen Stacy had appeared,  and apparently, she and Osborn were much more than just friends. Harry had caught sight of them earlier, tucked behind the rooftop bar, snogging like they’d invented the concept.

He rolled his eyes and turned away, tugging his jacket tighter around himself. The winter air bit at his cheeks, but the rooftop was alive with warmth, music thrummed through the soles of his shoes, laughter and champagne mingling with the faint smell of smoke and city lights.

Then he saw it, a flash of platinum-blond hair near the far wall.

No entourage, no bodyguards. Just Draco Malfoy, standing alone, leaning casually against the glass barrier overlooking the city.

“Malfoy!”

The blonde startled, his head snapping up. When he spotted Harry, his eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Po-Stark?” he corrected, lips curling.

Harry smirked. “Just wondering what a pure-blood git like you is doing at a Muggle party.”

Draco scoffed, straightening with a tilt of his chin. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Father has investments in several Muggle corporations. As do the others I came with. The Malfoys are hosting their own New Year’s gala tonight, adults only, so we were sent here to ‘keep up appearances.’” His sneer deepened. “I see you’ve found your home among the lesser.”

“Oh, hop off it, Malfoy,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “No need for the snide remarks.”

That earned him a faint smirk. The music pulsed around them, and for a while, they just stood there side by side, leaning against the wall and watching the crowd dance. The skyline glittered like stardust above them.

Harry broke the silence first. “How’s Hogwarts been?”

Draco exhaled slowly, like he wasn’t sure why he was answering. “Quiet. Not nearly as entertaining without you there to make trouble. Quidditch is too easy now… Diggory’s the only one worth competing against.”

He hesitated, then added, “Though the dementors are bloody awful. Nearly kissed a student last month. Pointless things. If the Ministry had half a brain, they’d realise Black’s been in America this whole time- and pardoned, no less.”

Harry blinked. “What are you on about?”

Draco turned to look at him, eyes narrowing. “You haven’t heard? Sirius Black, the man who supposedly betrayed your parents, escaped Azkaban. The Prophet’s been full of it for months. Turns out he made his way to America, got a trial this time, and was cleared. He never got one before. Whole mess of Ministry incompetence, really.”

Harry’s brain stuttered. “He’s… innocent?”

“Apparently.” Draco shrugged, glancing away. “But Fudge has head so shoved so far up his arse, he still insists he’s after you, though. Typical. My mother’s been furious… they’re cousins, you know. Says the Blacks were always too proud to mix with common criminals.”

Harry only half-listened as Draco’s words dissolved into a familiar ramble about bloodlines and politics. His thoughts were spinning. Why hadn’t anything been said about the man. This was the first time he had even heard the bloke’s name.

But then the music changed, the tempo slowing, people gathering in clusters as the countdown loomed closer. Couples leaned together, laughter echoing in the cold air.

Harry’s eyes flicked toward the giant clock projected onto the side of the building. Twenty seconds to midnight.

He turned back to Draco.

“Hey, Malfoy.”

“What?” Draco drawled, still staring at the crowd.

“Do you wanna… kiss the new year in?”

That got his attention. Draco froze, blinking rapidly before schooling his expression. “You fancy yourself a kiss with me, Stark?” His voice was smug, but the faint colour in his cheeks betrayed him.

Harry just shrugged. “Why not? Everyone else seems to be.”

The crowd began to chant - ten, nine, eight…

Draco’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Well,” he murmured, stepping closer, “don’t mind if I do.”

The numbers hit one.

Fireworks exploded above them as Draco’s hand caught Harry’s jacket, pulling him forward. Their lips crashed together, clumsy, hot, a collision of teeth and adrenaline. The taste of champagne and fire lingered between them.

For a second, Harry forgot to breathe. It wasn’t graceful, more of a challenge than a kiss, but something about it made his chest twist. It wasn’t Malfoy that made his stomach twist, rather the confirmation that yes, he was also into boys, and right now it seemed he preferred them over girls.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless.

Harry leaned in, voice low and teasing. “I guess your father won’t be hearing about this, then?”

Draco laughed, a real, surprised laugh that cracked through his usual composure. “Not if you value your life, Stark.”

Then, with a grin that looked almost wild in the fireworks’ glow, he tugged Harry in for another kiss.

This one was slower. Surreal.

And when Harry finally pulled back, his heart was pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the alcohol or the music.

~~~~

Harry crept through the front doors of the Tower, trying to be as quiet as possible. The city outside was just beginning to fade from its New Year’s frenzy, the echo of fireworks lingering somewhere in the distance. The lobby lights were dimmed to a soft golden glow, and for a moment, he thought he’d actually made it in unnoticed.

Then-

“Ah,” came a smooth, familiar voice from the shadows, “I see you have finally decided to return home.”

Harry jumped. Loki was lounging elegantly on one of the couches in the living area, dressed in black silk like he’d been waiting for hours and didn’t mind one bit. A faint, knowing smile curved his lips.

“Had enough of kissing blonde boys?” he teased.

Harry nearly choked on his own breath. “I- what- how… how could you possibly know that?”

Loki’s grin widened, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Did you truly think I would let you leave the Tower without a trace? Your father asked me to ensure your safety. I am a god of many talents, little one... subtle surveillance being one of them.”

Harry groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Right… yeah. That checks out.”

Loki tilted his head, pretending to ponder. “So, should I inform your father that his son has been gallivanting across the city at indecent hours, locking lips with the offspring of a pureblood aristocrat?”

Harry’s heart stopped for a beat. “Wait, no! Don’t tell him… please. I didn’t get into trouble, I didn’t do anything bad!”

Loki chuckled, waving a graceful hand. “Relax, Litli,” he said, the old Norse endearment warm despite his amusement. “You did not break any rules, nor cause any chaos I am required to report. And I would hardly consider a kiss to be an act of rebellion.”

Harry let out a long sigh of relief. “Good. Because it’s not like it meant anything. Malfoy’s a bloody prat; arrogant, spoiled, can’t go five minutes without mentioning his family name.”

“And yet,” Loki interrupted smoothly, eyes glinting, “you kissed him.”

Harry’s face burned. “He’s good-looking, alright? And… a good kisser.” He looked away, muttering, “Doesn’t mean I like him.”

Loki chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying himself. “So, no boyfriends yet, then? Or girlfriends? Surely there must be someone who’s caught your fancy?”

Harry groaned again, pulling a face. “No. Not yet. And even if there was, I wouldn’t tell you, you’d probably conjure mistletoe above us or something.”

“I might,” Loki said with mock offence, “but only to encourage confidence.” Then, his voice softened, the teasing ebbing into something almost fond. “You are young, Litli. There is no rush. You have plenty of time to discover who is worthy of you.”

Harry blinked at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. Loki’s tone reminded him of a mother, or maybe the version of a parent that always believed he’d be more than what others saw.

“Thanks, Loki,” he murmured.

“Think nothing of it,” Loki said smoothly, rising from the couch with an easy grace. “Now, off to bed. Wash the smell of alcohol and questionable decisions from your skin before your father returns. I’m sure he’ll want to spend the day with you later, and I would prefer not to explain why you look like you’ve been kissed into next week.”

Harry’s ears went red again as he backed toward the staircase. “Goodnight, Loki.”

“Goodnight, Litli,” Loki replied, the old word rolling off his tongue like a lullaby.

As Harry disappeared up the stairs, Loki turned back to the city skyline outside the window. For a moment, his smirk faded into something softer, something proud.

“Blonde boys,” he murmured to himself with a faint chuckle. “He truly is his father’s son.”