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Harry ducked into an out of the way corner and pulled on his invisibility cloak. He'd found through trial and error that it could fold up impossibly small and fit into any pocket, regardless of how much space it really should take up. He'd been plotting since the headmaster told him he'd have to go back to the Dursleys. Well, no, he'd been plotting since Christmas break when he'd been told that he couldn't leave the school unless he was going home to his relatives for the holidays.
But as soon as the barmy old coot had told him that there was nowhere else for Harry to stay, he'd been plotting. Harry knew more about the wizarding world now than anyone expected. He'd used his cloak to go out several times a week and look at books that the others hadn't thought it was important for him to read. Harry had noticed it shortly before Christmas, that Hermione was very particular about his reading habits. Anything that wasn't necessary for their schoolwork was fine for her to pick up for 'light reading' but not for Harry. And Ron disdained him reading at all.
After his first night in the cloak, Harry knew better than to go into the restricted section, but that didn't keep him from reading the books in the unrestricted sections. He was easily able to smuggle them back to his bed to read. Since Harry still got up at the crack of dawn, expecting to have to cook breakfast for the Dursleys, it was easy enough to get his extra reading done then, hidden behind the curtains of his four poster.
Harry had read about the important wizarding families, and been shocked to find his name among them. He'd read about how each of those families had an ancestral seat where they lived, meaning that the Potters had such a home. He'd read about their connections to other wizarding families, like the Blacks and Fleamonts and Nettletofts, which in turn connected them to the Weasleys and Prewetts and Longbottoms and Malfoys and Abbotts and Davieses. All of those families who might be inclined to take Harry in for part or all of the summer, instead of him going back to the Durselys.
And the headmaster wouldn't even let him ask.
Who was the headmaster to restrict him anyway? He wasn't Harry's parent. He wasn't his guardian. If anything, Professor McGonagall was his temporary guardian during the school year, for all that Harry never saw her outside of class or meals. Other than the day she'd forced him onto the quidditch team. But neither of them had any power over Harry during the summer. He'd checked.
So no, Harry wasn't going back to the Dursleys. He was going to someone who had real power in this world; someone who would probably be willing to help him, for a price.
Making sure that no one was looking in his direction — they'd mostly all left by wizarding means by then — Harry quickly slipped his cloak around himself and his trunk. He'd gotten the Weasley twins to shrink Hedwig's cage and put it in the trunk, and he'd told her to wait at the school until nightfall and then find him after her hunt. Harry hoped to be in a home by then, but if not he'd make do. If nothing else, he'd seen a sign at the Leaky Cauldron advertising rooms for rent, and he could stay there for the first night if necessary.
With his cloak wrapped around him — just as it always seemed to get as small as he needed, it now easily covered his trunk — Harry set off through the barrier. He cautiously poked his head out first, making sure he wasn't about to run into anyone, before going all the way through.
Harry saw Vernon waiting over by the notice board, and wondered who had told him to be here today. Harry certainly hadn't, and the original letter he'd gotten had said nothing about return times. The headmaster, probably. Harry huffed quietly, then turned and deliberately went in the opposite direction.
He kept close to the walls, and soon he reached a loo. He went inside one of the stalls, removed his invisibility cloak, and tucked it back away in the pocket that didn't hold his wand. Then he emerged and headed off in search of the underground line he needed. He had a little muggle money left from when he and Hagrid had used the underground back at the end of the summer, and he knew it would be just enough to get to Charing Cross. Wizards probably had better ways of getting around, but Harry didn't have access to any of those. Yet.
In no time at all, Harry was in sight of the Leaky Cauldron. Keeping his head down, he walked right through, heading for the back alley. Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he quickly tapped the right brick to open up the alley behind. Once through, Harry pocketed his wand, ducked his head, and made his way firmly down the alley towards Gringotts. He couldn't risk people seeing his forehead and knowing who he was, and not for the first time Harry wished that Dudley ever wore and discarded caps, as he could have used one now.
He made it to Gringotts without incident, and breathed out a sigh of relief when he reached the inside. Gringotts was sovereign goblin land, according to the book he'd read, and no other wizard could remove him by force if he claimed sanctuary from them. If the headmaster caught him now, Harry would just need to call for sanctuary from the goblins long enough to get his own home figured out. Maybe they could protect him from the Dursleys long term, too.
Harry strode up to the nearest open teller, made a note of their nameplate then put on his best, most polite expression. "Excuse me, Teller Ironmaw. I would like to see the Potter account manager please."
"Do you have your key?"
"I have never been in possession of my key, due to my circumstances," Harry said formally. "I am aware that I will need to pay Gringotts to confirm my identity without it." The books had been quite clear on that, though they hadn't said exactly how such things were done.
The teller looked at Harry with what seemed like mild surprise, then nodded. "Follow me."
He was led, not to the Potter account manager, but to an office labeled "Inheritance". Harry figured that was just so they could prove who he was, and then he'd be directed to the right place.
The goblin inside had a nameplate on his desk, which said Flamelock. "I beg your pardon, but I don't know your title," Harry said. The book had been very specific to always use a goblin's title, since they were earned through hard work and many years of rising through the ranks.
Flamelock grinned without his teeth showing: an excellent sign for Harry. "I am a manager, little wizard."
"It's very nice to meet you, Manager Flamelock," Harry said, bowing his head. "I'm Harry Potter. Because of circumstances beyond my control, I've never had possession of my key. I believe it resides with someone at Hogwarts." He had no idea if Hagrid had given it to someone else or if he still had it, but Harry would put his money on the headmaster. "I'm aware that I need to pay for services to verify my identity and recall my key."
"Very well done, little wizard," Flamelock said. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a parchment, a crystal, and a long needle. He placed the crystal on top of the parchment, then handed the needle to Harry. "Prick your finger and then smear the blood on the crystal," he instructed. "Both will be cleansed after use."
"Thank you," Harry said, accepting the needle. He did as instructed, resisting the urge to suck on his finger once he was done. Instead he discretely wiped off the excess blood onto his jeans. The crystal turned dark red, then golden, and Harry noticed words beginning to form on the parchment as he handed the needle back. Flamelock put it on a small golden tray. When words stopped appearing on the parchment, he put the crystal there too.
Picking up the parchment, he read it over. "You are indeed Harry Potter," Flamelock said. "Would you like to recall all keys to your vaults, Heir Potter?"
Harry made a note to come back to the fact that he had more than one vault, but for now he nodded. "Yes please. I would also like to speak to my account manager."
"Very well." Flamelock got up from his desk and opened the door. He handed the parchment to the goblin who was waiting outside. "Runner Fleetfoot, escort Harry Potter to Account Manager Graveljaw."
Harry quickly made a note of both names. "Thank you for your time today, Manager Flamelock," he said, dragging his trunk out of the office and following Fleetfoot.
After going down several corridors and past more doors than Harry could count, they arrived at one labeled 'Potter Account Manager.'
Fleetfoot knocked on the door, and Harry quickly said, "Thank you for your help, Runner Fleetfoot." He wasn't sure what a runner did, save for maybe just escorting wizards around behind the scenes, as the book hadn't mentioned it, but it was clearly a title, and he knew to use it. Fleetfoot nodded at him as the door opened.
Handing over the parchment that proved Harry's identity, Fleetfoot then got out of the way and allowed Harry to follow the other goblin inside, closing the door behind him.
"Thank you for seeing me, Account Manager Graveljaw," Harry said politely, taking the seat opposite the desk again.
"Thank you for finally visiting me, Heir Potter. You have ignored our messages for some time."
"I'm sorry that you've been waiting for me, but I was rushed through the bank during my only visit before, and the Teller never mentioned you or doing an inheritance test or anything. He didn't even give me back my key, but returned it to Hagrid instead." Harry said in a rush. "I did look you up during the school year, and came back as soon as I could, as I wasn't allowed out over the Christmas break."
"Do you happen to remember the Teller's name?" Graveljaw asked.
"Griphook."
"I will make a note of that and question him at a later time," Graveljaw said. "Now, what is it that you need from us today?"
"I need to recall my keys so that I have access to the bank," Harry said, pulling the list he'd prepared out of his pocket. He hadn't known about the multiple key thing, but he'd written down everything else he could think of. "I need a secure way to hold onto them as well. I need to know how to access Potter Keep. I need to know if my parents had a will. I need to know if you know anything about why my scar hurts sometimes. I need to tell you that I think I know who broke into your bank last summer. I need to know who my closest relatives are aside from the Dursleys. And I need to know if you know any reason why the headmaster would want to keep me going back to the Dursleys. And I guess if you've been sending me messages, I need to know why I haven't ever gotten one."
"A weighty list, Heir Potter," Graveljaw said, though he seemed pleased. "I would be glad to assist you with all of those tasks today."
Harry was furious. He was doped up on so many potions that the fury was distant and muted, but he could still vaguely feel it. It all came down to the headmaster. He had been the one to place Harry with the Dursleys in the first place, and he'd apparently done it with a bit of Voldemort stuck in his head!
The goblins had removed it — Harry got to see their healing halls, which the book had said was only for employees, but apparently customers could pay for their services as well. They'd also given him potions to correct his badly healed bones, and to get rid of the beltmark scars on his back, and to shore up his organs and expand his stomach from the years of starvation.
Dumbledore had also been responsible for the mail ward on Harry, and though the goblins couldn't find any of his old mail, they could and had set up a new ward, that Harry controlled. All of his post went to a Gringotts curse breaker first, who would examine it for dangerous things, and contact the DMLE if necessary, before forwarding the cleared mail to Harry. With Graveljaw's help, Harry had paid for a full page advert in the Daily Prophet where he apologized for never replying to anyone's mail, explained about the illegal mail ward, and warned that from that point on letters would be screened by Gringotts. Hopefully that would pacify the people like the goblins who had never heard back from him, while warning off weirdos who wanted to send him cursed mail in the future.
Dumbledore had had Harry's keys — and there were twelve of them! — and Harry now had them tucked away safely in a special mokeskin wallet that no one else could open or steal. Flamelock was conducting an audit to see if Dumbledore had removed anything from any of the vaults over the years, and if he'd taken so much as a knut Harry wanted the book thrown at him.
Dumbledore also apparently controlled the Wizengamot, as its Chief Warlock, and he'd used that position to seal his parents' will, as well as to lock his file so that the Wizarding Child Protective Agency had never paid him a visit. Flamelock had warned him that if Harry attempted to live with the Longbottoms or Davieses or Weasleys that Dumbledore would just scoop him right back up and plonk him with the Dursleys. And there was nothing that Harry could do about it.
Well, there were two things. One was he could hole up in Potter Keep and never leave. He'd need to get tutors and study for his OWLs on his own, and he'd have to emerge to take them, at which point Dumbledore would snap him up again. Harry would be protected by the ancient family wards, but he could never emerge again until he was over seventeen.
Alternatively, he could go with a little known family connection. His Great Grandfather had had a sister who was a squib, and she had married a muggle, then later moved to America. Apparently Harry's cousin there was a big deal in the non-magical world — rich and famous — and he'd have the power to stand up to Dumbledore despite being a squib. There was also the fact that he would be in America, and hard to find there, as everyone would expect Harry to remain in Britain. He could enroll at one of the American schools, and complete his education there. It would mean giving up his new friends, though Harry wasn't sure how good of friends Ron or Hermione was. And that was even assuming that his cousin would take him in. He had recently been orphaned himself, though he was six years older than Harry, but at least he was considered an adult in the wizarding and muggle worlds.
But it was the best option that he had.
Once Harry was freed from the healing hall in a few days, Flamelock would arrange the meeting, and Harry would have a chance to talk to this Tony Stark, and see if they could come to an arrangement.
Tony had no idea why he was being summoned to a bank called Gringotts, but he'd been told it was personal, not related to SI, and therefore he didn't need his CFO to come with him. Tony was distressingly sober, since he didn't want to misread anything when it came to finances without Obie there to double check. Since it wasn't SI business, Tony didn't use the company driver, but instead drove himself to the nearest branch in Manhattan.
He really wanted to get out of the mansion — maybe move to LA — but Obie wasn't sure about setting up a West Coast headquarters there, and Mr. Jarvis didn't have the same negative associations with the mansion that Tony had.
Once Tony was inside, he flirted with the cute secretary who led him to the office. The nameplate on the desk said Mr. Graveljaw, and Tony immediately thought of making fun of it, then dismissed the impulse. He wouldn't have been able to resist if he'd been drunk, but as it was he had some impulse control.
The man behind the desk was thin, with a hooked nose and full beard, and he didn't have the greedy look on his face that most people did when meeting with someone as rich and good looking as Tony. It was a refreshing change.
"So, why am I here?" he asked once he was seated.
"Proof of the embezzling within your company," Mr. Graveljaw said without preamble, handing over a stack of documents. He had a British accent, but it wasn't the same as Mr. Jarvis's.
"I don't like being handed things," Tony replied automatically.
Mr. Graveljaw immediately adapted and slid the papers across his desk, instead, which Tony was grateful for. So few people even cared about his wishes that way, and for this man to do it without complaint… then the words caught up to him.
"Hang on, you specifically said this was personal, not about SI. You told me not to bring my CFO."
"Proof that it was Obadiah Stane who was the largest embezzler, in addition to selling Stark Industries stock under the table to enemies of the state," Mr. Graveljaw said, sliding a second folder of documents towards him.
Okay, that was going to take Tony a minute. Obie had been Howard's partner, he'd been Tony's godfather for fuck's sake! How could he have been dealing under the table? And for how long? Was it new? Just since Howard and his mom had died?
"How long has he been doing this?" Tony asked, his voice annoyingly unsteady.
"Several years, since before his promotion to CFO. A promotion he gained by revealing a different embezzler upon whom he pinned some of his own crimes," Mr. Graveljaw replied.
Which, okay, Tony was going to need another minute to process that. It sounded like Obie had always been dirty, had always been lying. Maybe even from the very beginning he'd had his sights set on this course.
Tony blew out a deep breath. "How did you find all of this?"
"We have our ways," Mr. Graveljaw replied, which was not at all reassuring. "We have provided a second set of all documents, which can be given to the FBI as soon as possible," he said, patting two more folders on his side of the table. "Our methods are legal, and are shown in these copies."
"Right, okay." He really wanted to know more, but he'd get that out of his FBI contact if necessary. Once he met them. "I guess the next question is why? Why were you looking into my company?"
"That's a slightly longer story," Mr. Graveljaw said. He slid another folder across the desk, and Tony hesitantly picked it up. It was much thinner, so he opened it.
It started with a printout of a family tree, going back to Tony's grandmother Elsbeth's parents — her maiden name was Potter, apparently — and coming down the other side to his cousins, James and Lily, and their kid, Harry. He was 11 by Tony's math. He was also the only other person on the family tree besides Tony who wasn't listed as deceased.
Tony had a bad feeling about this, but he didn't want to jump to any conclusions. This couldn't be as bad as one of Howard's paternity suits, which he'd already had to deal with once in the past few months.
"Before you get any ideas about extortion, please flip the page," Mr. Graveljaw said.
Tony did so and wow. The kid wasn't a billionaire, but the Potter fortune was nothing to sneeze at. The kid could probably buy and sell Hammer Tech a few times over if he wanted. That ruled out the money angle. Tony flipped to the next page.
It was a medical file, complete with pictures and x-rays, and it showed clear evidence of the kid's abuse. Belt marks and broken bones. There were notes about long term starvation and organ damage. The final picture was a headshot of the kid. He looked scrawny, but determined. Tony felt bad for him, even as he knew there was nothing he had to offer the kid but more money he didn't need.
"That is my client, Heir Potter, and we looked into your company at his behest. He has given me permission to share that file with you," Mr. Graveljaw said before Tony could ask the question. "His parents were killed when he was a little over a year old, as you can see, and he has lived with — or in his case, barely survived being placed with — his maternal aunt and uncle for the past 10 years. After spending a year at the boarding school his parents attended, he attempted to leave their care, only to be blocked by someone high up in the British government, who had been embezzling Harry's caretaker stipend for himself, among other thefts. We are unable to move against him at this time."
"So what, he needs lawyers?"
"He needs a home where he is safe, and he has chosen you because of your lack of ties to Britain, your inability to be bribed to hand him back over, and your power to kick up a fuss if he is illegally kidnapped. He hopes you will not continue to abuse him, but that is lower on his list of priorities." Mr. Graveljaw said plainly. "He has two other choices of equal relation to you, but they are both susceptible to the influence of the man who has heretofore controlled Heir Potter's life, and would not protect him for long."
Tony processed that. He'd been kidnapped himself a few times by the age of 11, and it sucked. Plus he'd never hurt a kid the way Howard had hurt him. It wasn't as bad as the kid's experience, clearly, but it still galled Tony. He didn't do children, but Mr. Jarvis did, and surely he'd be willing to raise the kid for the next few years. And maybe Aunt Peg could do something about the high ranking British politician who was trying to control the kid's life.
"Alright, I've got no clue how to raise a kid, so it'll be my butler doing it, but I'll take him," Tony decided.
"Thank you," Mr. Graveljaw said. He pressed a button on his desk and said, "Runner Brightcurl, please escort Heir Potter to my office." An intercom, then.
"Oh, and one more thing for you and the FBI," Mr. Graveljaw said, sliding another folder across the desk. "Proof of SHIELD's infiltration of Stark Industries and associated embezzlement from the company and yourself. And proof that Hydra has infiltrated SHIELD since its inception. It would not be safe to trust them with Heir Potter's situation either."
Tony accepted the folder, even as his brain was whirling with denials, "How?" was all he could think to ask.
"Their own version of Operation Paperclip," Mr. Graveljaw explained, and right, that made sense. Still, he'd have thought that Aunt Peggy and Howard would have vetted their picks better. Though maybe it only took one or two…
The door opened with a perfunctory knock, and the sexy secretary from earlier showed in the kid, Harry Potter. He looked shorter than Tony expected, but Stark men were short, and maybe that came from the Potter side as well. He clenched his fist around the folder in it. Maybe it came from the malnutrition, too. The kid was toting a trunk behind him, and Tony figured that probably held all of his possessions.
"Hey kid," he said.
"Hello Dr. Stark," the kid said back, and yeah, he had just managed to complete his doctorates last month, but very few people called him that.
"Just Tony is fine, kid."
The kid smirked. "Then I'm Harry."
Right, first name basis it was. "Look, Harry, I don't take care of kids; my butler will be in charge of you. Is that alright?"
Harry glanced at Mr. Graveljaw, who clearly gave some signal of approval. Right, because they'd clearly vetted all the people in his life, and Obie and Aunt Peg had come up wanting, but Mr. Jarvis had been cleared. "Alright," Harry agreed pragmatically. "Thank you for taking me in despite the— well… everything."
"No problem," Tony muttered. It wouldn't be him dealing with the kid's problems. Not when he had plenty of his own problems at SI and SHIELD to take care of now. He scooped up all of the files he'd been given, then turned back to Mr. Graveljaw. "You'll give your copies to the FBI?"
"Indeed. They should contact you shortly," he promised.
"Right. Ever been in a convertible, Harry?" Tony asked.
Harry's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Nope!"
"You'll love my mustang then. Let's go."
"Goodbye Account Manager Graveljaw, and thank you," the kid said formally. Maybe it was a British thing? Then he followed Tony and the secretary out the door.
Tony needed a drink.
Harry had settled in just fine with Mr. Jarvis, who had been surprised but accepting. He'd also sworn not to talk to Aunt Peg or Obie about the kid, which was good enough for Tony for now.
Tony had then spent all night reading the files Mr. Graveljaw had given him, and spent the next two days in meetings with the FBI. The CIA and NSA had been called in to handle the Hydra issue, while the FBI handled the embezzling from Tony and SI. He couldn't prove that his father hadn't given Aunt Peg permission to take the funds SHIELD was siphoning from him, so she wouldn't be in trouble for them, but he was cutting her off and making it clear that he would no longer be supporting her under the table.
Obie was going to be in prison for decades.
The raids were going to go down tomorrow, since Gringotts had been incredibly thorough, and even included which computers and drives they had found their information on, so the FBI could easily collect the evidence. It was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel when it came to cleaning up SI.
Tony should be thrilled.
But mostly he was just tired. He couldn't trust his godfather. He couldn't trust his Aunt Peg. He didn't know who he could trust anymore, besides Mr. Jarvis.
He desperately needed a drink.
But Howard had always been worse when he was drunk, and Tony was afraid to follow that pattern. He'd never hit the kid, of course, but if the way he yelled at his bots when drunk was any indication, he couldn't trust himself not to be verbally abusive. His bots shouldn't have to take that either, Tony had realized.
Harry mostly stuck to his own room — at least in the 48 hours they'd had him — and Mr. Jarvis reported that he'd settled in just fine. Tony wasn't sure what that meant, but assumed things were going well, and he continued to leave the kid in the capable hands of his butler. They could probably go days without seeing each other in a mansion this size — Tony had certainly had that experience with his parents — so it wasn't like the kid was an intrusion. Still, Tony didn't want to risk it.
God he wanted that drink.
But he wasn't going to take it. Neither he nor Harry deserved what had been done to them, and when not being abused came fourth on the kid's wishlist for a new home, there was a problem. Tony wasn't going to accidentally verbally lash out at the kid if he ran into him, or take out his shitty day on him with cruel sniping. He was going to be better than Howard. And that meant no drinking.
He wasn't sure how long he'd make it, but Tony was determined to try. For the kid, and for himself.
Harry sighed and tried to relax in his new room. It was almost as big as the dorm room he'd shared at Hogwarts, with its own ensuite. It was definitely bigger than any bedroom in the Dursley's house. He had been worried about letting Hedwig in, but once he'd explained things to her, she was happy to roost in a tree in the yard for a few days, and keep out of sight of Tony and Mr. Jarvis.
Graveljaw had recommended that they approach Tony in stages. First with the problems with his company and the idea of taking Harry in. Then with the whole magic reveal. It would need to wait at least a week, but no more than three, because Harry would need his guardian's approval to transfer into Ilvermorny, and Tony had to be in the know by then. Two weeks would be better, so he had a little time to get his head around things before the meeting with the Headmistress.
That meant that he needed to hide Hedwig just for those two weeks, before he could openly admit to owning such an unusual pet. Her cage was still shrunk down in his trunk, along with all his magical supplies. Harry had removed his clothing from the Dursleys and placed it in the closet and dresser, but other than that he didn't have anything to unpack. Stuff like his photo album of his parents contained moving pictures that he couldn't explain yet, and even his textbooks had suspicious titles. Harry could pull them out one at a time to read, as long as he could hide them away when there was a knock on the door, but he couldn't afford to really unpack.
Still, Tony had been relatively kind, if absent dealing with his company, and Mr. Jarvis was quite nice. There was a staff of four: a cook, two maids who cleaned during the week, and Mr. Jarvis, who was in charge.
Once Tony and Mr. Jarvis knew about magic, Harry was going to have to ask to keep his room cleaned himself, so that he could allow Hedwig in and unpack his books. It shouldn't be too hard, since he had spent years cleaning the entire house for the Dursleys, but it might take a little convincing for people who were already used to having maids and stuff. Harry couldn't imagine it.
Was this what it would have been like if he'd grown up in Potter Keep? He knew that magicals had their own kind of servants, though he hadn't been able to find much information about them. Still, the laundry was always done in Hogwarts, and their room kept clean, so someone must have been doing it. And since Harry had never seen a maid, it must have been someone or something magical.
If Potter Keep was as large as the Starks' mansion, it probably needed some of those magical servants too. Maybe Harry could get one to help out Mr. Jarvis, and then he wouldn't need to worry about leaving magical stuff out in his room. He'd need to ask Graveljaw about it. In the meantime, Harry was going to do his best to be the perfect houseguest.
He couldn't help clean, it had been made clear, and he couldn't do his summer assignments because they would be different at Ilvermorny. He had nothing but his school books to read, since Hagrid hadn't let him get anything that wasn't on the list. Mr. Jarvis had shown him the large library here, but Harry didn't have the first clue what to read about. Maybe he could ask? It might come across as a stupid question, but Harry was fine with that. He'd been called stupid all his life, so what did it matter if Tony or Mr. Jarvis thought the same?
Harry just needed to bide his time until the big magical reveal — he couldn't allow himself to think that it would go badly — and then he'd be able to get all the books he wanted. Gringotts had already told him that the New York equivalent of Diagon Alley was called Hudson Alley, as it ran beneath the river of the same name. Harry had enough money that, without Hagrid there standing over his shoulder, he would be able to buy every book that he wanted.
And once he met with the Headmistress of Ilvermorny, he would have his summer assignments to compete as well. Then Harry would be awfully busy for the rest of his summer. So he might as well relax and enjoy himself now, while he waited out these two weeks.
The kid didn't even have clothes, Mr. Jarvis reported! Tony hadn't thought much about the oversized hand-me-downs he'd first seen the kid in, but apparently it was all he had, and barely enough to last two weeks. He didn't even have enough underthings, or swim trunks, or more than one sweater. It was a travesty.
Tony had gotten a card from his own bank under the name 'Harry Stark', since they were trying to hide the kid. He'd handed it to Mr. Jarvis, told him to take the kid out and go crazy, and then gone back to work on cleaning up SI.
Crazy was an overstatement, Tony learned, when Mr. Jarvis handed him the receipts that night. He'd had to work hard to convince Harry to get enough outfits, and he'd been very shy about trying things on. He'd even worn a shirt while trying on the swim trunks. Remembering the beltmarks on his back, Tony wasn't surprised. He'd shared the file with Mr. Jarvis the first night — with the kid's permission — so they both knew about his past already. But if he didn't want to show them his back outside of the photos that had been taken for evidence, that was fine.
Still, it was clear that the kid wasn't used to coming from wealth, and wasn't used to living with money. He even kept his own room clean and attempted to cook his first day here, waking up before Helga did and getting things half pulled out before Mr. Jarvis came in to see what the noise was about. The kid had been scared he'd been too noisy, but had taken the news that he didn't have to work for his keep well enough.
Now if only they could get him to come out of his room and socialize a bit. Tony didn't care, since he spent most of his time locked in his own lab, but according to Mr. Jarvis, the kid was worryingly introverted. He'd even had to be given permission to explore the library, and pointed in the direction of some books he might enjoy.
Tony wasn't sure if it was a product of how he was raised before, or just wariness of his new circumstances: he wasn't a psychologist. But he was tempted to read a few psychology textbooks, or at least books about dealing with abused kids, so that he wouldn't make any egregious mistakes. He was trying to be better than Howard, after all. Now if only he could find the time!
Finally, the day was here! They had an appointment with Graveljaw — to discuss Harry's schooling, they'd been told — and both Tony and Mr. Jarvis had agreed to come. It was outside of normal business hours, since Tony had to deal with Stark Industries during that time — especially while looking for a new CFO — but they'd made it work around his schedule.
Fortunately, Gringotts doors worked magically, based on the goblins' intent, so that they could open the door in New York, and find themselves in Graveljaw's office in Britain, and vice versa. It was all sovereign goblin soil, so Harry didn't have to worry about being caught and dragged back into Dumbledore's clutches, but it certainly made it easier to attend meetings without needing to drag his account manager to a different country!
But now it was time, and Tony and Mr. Jarvis were finally going to learn about magic. Then Harry would finally know for sure if they were willing to keep him, or if he'd need to hire tutors and hide himself away in Potter Keep. Harry's stomach was roiling, even though Graveljaw had assured him that they could be obliviated if they didn't react well.
Mr. Jarvis insisted on driving the bently, with Tony and Harry riding in the back. They got to the mundane entrance to Gringotts' New York branch easily, and then Runner Brightcurl ushered them into Graveljaw's office. Harry saw the goblins as they were, but Graveljaw had shown him the runes that made them appear to be human to muggles and squibs. It was like a variant of the muggle repelling charm that kept anyone from noticing what happened around the entrance to Platform nine and three quarters, except that those in the know about magic could be keyed into it so see through the illusion, even if they were a squib or muggle.
Since Tony was a squib and Mr. Jarvis was a muggle — though apparently in North America they were called No-Mag — they would see the human glamour until Graveljaw keyed them into it, revealing his real form. It was the easiest way to prove that magic existed, he'd explained to Harry, short of Harry pulling out his wand and transforming a matchstick into a needle! And since he couldn't do that without getting in trouble for using underaged magic, it was best if they used the revelation of goblins as their introduction to the magical world.
Harry watched carefully, but since he'd always seen the goblin as he was, there was no discernible change. No shimmer of magic in the air or anything. Of course, Tony and Mr. Jarivs both recoiled, which was evidence enough that something had changed. Still, Harry was a little disappointed not to have seen the change for himself.
"What the fuck?" Tony said.
"Magic is real," Graveljaw said simply. "There is a whole hidden world living alongside your mundane one, filled with magical races and creatures. Young Heir Potter is of this world, which is why we have special dispensation to tell you about it."
Both men shot looks at Harry then, and he waved somewhat awkwardly.
"Magic is real?" Tony said skeptically.
"What could we do to prove it to you?" Graveljaw asked easily. "I could transform a sheet of parchment into a bird, or turn Heir Potter's skin bright blue. You already saw the glamour that makes me appear to be a human."
"Nothing that you've suggested; it might be a pre-arranged trick," Tony said quickly. "Can you turn my sunglasses into a basketball?"
"Easily," Graveljaw said. Tony pulled his sunglasses off and held them in his hand. Graveljaw waved his hand and a moment later they transformed into a basketball. Tony almost dropped it, but Mr. Jarvis helped steady it as he reached out to stroke it himself.
"Can you do a turtle?" Tony asked. Another wave of Graveljaw's hand and the basketball became a turtle that wiggled its little feet against his palm. "Fuck," Tony muttered.
"I'd chastise you about your language, but that appears to be an appropriate response," Mr. Jarvis said, running one finger down the turtle's shell.
Graveljaw waved again, and the turtle turned back into Tony's sunglasses, which he carefully examined before putting back on his head. "Okay, say we believe you…"
"The high up member of the government who is attempting to control Heir Potter's life is a member of the magical government of Britain. He holds three of the four most powerful positions in that government, and has the ear of the fourth. In addition to political power, he has prodigious magical power."
"So what can we do to protect Harry?" Tony asked, and Harry let out a small sigh of relief that the description of Dumbledore's power didn't put him off right away.
"You have money and power in the non magical world in America, and since you are a squib, you can gain standing in the magical world here as well."
"A squib?" Tony asked.
"A squib is a person born with a magical core, but without the proper channels in their body to cast active magic. Your grandmother Elsbeth was a squib, despite having two magical parents. Most squibs are tossed out in the non magical world to sink or swim, but the Potters are among those who hire tutors to train their unwanted children in mundane subjects and then grant them their trust fund. Per our records, her trust fund was how your grandparents moved to America and started your grandfather's business."
"Do you mean to tell us that most families just dump their children in the streets if they aren't magical enough?" Mr. Jarvis asked, appalled.
"Yes. It is viewed as a huge failure if a child does not receive their invitation to attend a magical school at the age of 11, and most families would rather pretend that the child had never existed in the first place than reveal their shame at birthing a squib," Graveljaw said with clear distaste.
"But the Potters weren't jerks about it," Harry quickly pointed out.
"That is true," Graveljaw acknowledged with a small tilt of his head. "And somewhat off the subject. Dr. Stark, your father was a squib like his mother, and you are one as well. As a squib you have almost as little standing in our world as a muggle, or non magical. However, were you to take up the regency of the Potter holdings, you would suddenly gain a great deal of power. It would also allow you to wear the Potter regent's ring, which would protect you from many magical attacks."
"And you think that that power would be enough, combined with my wealth, to protect Harry?"
"If you approached the American magical government for help, it should be. Gringotts can also provide you further protections and methods of escape that can be used when under attack. It is not likely that you will ever be attacked, but it is better to be safe than sorry." Graveljaw explained. "Our first line of defense is obscurity, as Dumbledore is unlikely to think that Heir Potter has the resources to leave Britain. Even if he got his hands on a complete family tree for the Potters, he would simply dismiss Elsbeth as a squib and thus beneath notice."
"So he's not likely to trace Harry to America in the first place; these are just backup precautions," Tony said.
"Indeed. Of course none of it is applicable if you chose not to take in Heir Potter now that you know the full extent of the situation," Graveljaw pointed out.
Harry held his breath, waiting to hear their decision.
"What are Harry's other options?" Mr. Jarvis asked. "Not because we don't want him, but does he even have any?"
"Heir Potter may seclude himself alone in Potter Keep and self study, then arrange to take his formal exams when he is 15 and 17. There is a chance that when he emerges to take his exams, he could be caught by Dumbledore, unless he took them in another country."
"He'd be all alone?" Mr. Jarvis asked, clearly horrified.
"Well that's unacceptable," Tony said firmly, much to Harry's relief. "Tell me more about this regent's ring."
Harry allowed himself to slump with relief. Tony and Mr. Jarvis weren't going to send him back, even though they now knew how much power Dumbledore had. They hadn't even balked at the idea of magic! Maybe everything was going to be alright.
Unfortunately for Tony's desire to attack the problem of magic with science, Harry wasn't permitted to use magic outside of school. Still, it didn't stop him from running what tests he could on his Goblin provided portkey necklace. Mr. Jarvis had one too, and Tony was also wearing the Potter Regent's ring. It had warmed up and sized down to fit his finger as soon as he put it on, and Tony couldn't wait to figure out how that kind of magic worked either. But he'd been warned never to take the ring off, as it offered him protections for his mind as well as his body.
Tony still wasn't sure exactly how much trouble this Dumbledore guy could be, but Harry was clearly scared of the amount of power he held over his life, so Tony wasn't going to rock the boat. It was bad enough that he'd placed him with abusive people in the first place, Tony wasn't going to give the man a chance to send Harry back there now that he'd escaped!
And the stories of Harry's first year at Hogwarts! From the minor inconvenience of incompetent teachers to the dangers of trolls and cerberuses. Not to mention a possessed teacher carrying a dark lord on the back of his skull! Tony wasn't sure how dangerous a dark lord actually was, but given that this one had killed hundreds of people, including Harry's parents, it was a wonder that Harry had survived the encounter at all!
Harry had high hopes for Ilvermorny, the school here in Massachusetts. With Tony acting as his regent, they'd sent a letter to the Headmistress, asking if Harry could begin as a second year. They had a meeting set up in a week's time, just before Harry's birthday.
After that, they'd be going to a hidden market called Hudson Alley to pick up Harry's new school supplies — and anything else that caught Tony's eye. He'd already gotten access to his grandmother's vault — and witnessed a little more magic in the process — and transferred a half a million dollars into it so he could buy whatever he wanted.
Graveljaw had warned them that only muggleborns — or No-Mag, as they were known here in the US — or those too poor to have a vault used actual money instead of magical impressions of their key. Tony refused to be seen as inferior, or risk being discovered as a squib, so he intended to out-pureblood anyone who came his way.
They also had a meeting scheduled for the day after Harry's birthday with the American representative to the ICW. It sounded like the magical equivalent of the UN, and according to Graveljaw he was the best person to consult on the Dumbledore issue. Since Dumbledore was both the British representative and currently the Supreme Mugwump, they needed the American representative in their corner. Graveljaw had also assured them of his discretion, so it was safe to bring Harry along to the meeting.
Between then and now Tony had two meetings with the FBI and NSA. The first to deal with Obie, and the second to deal with Howard's notes about SHIELD. Tony had tasked Mr. Jarvis with hunting down anything in the office that was about SHIELD instead of SI. Then, after scanning copies, he'd turn it all over.
In the meantime, Harry had relaxed greatly now that Tony and Mr. Jarvis knew about magic. He'd introduced them to his owl, who he'd been hiding in the back yard, and showed them his photo album, full of moving pictures of his parents and their friends. He'd even let Tony borrow his magical textbooks and Tony had raced through the first few last night. The moving diagrams of wand movements would do nothing for him, but Graveljaw had confirmed that squibs were able to participate in most tasks in herbology, potions, ancient runes, and lower level care of magical creatures. They were fully capable of handling arithmancy, astronomy, and history as well. Harry hadn't studied arithmancy, ancient runes, or magical creatures yet, but Tony had enjoyed reading his astronomy and potions texts. Harry had confessed that he'd been looking forward to potions — which seemed like a combination of cooking and chemistry to Tony — but that the professor for that class had taken an instant dislike to him and made his life miserable.
If Harry was going to go back to Hogwarts, Tony might have wanted to do something about that — surely there was some kind of parent teacher association or board of governors that he could complain to! — but as it was Harry was trying to put his Hogwarts experience behind him. He'd confessed that he would miss his friends, but only one of the adults at the school had made any kind of positive impression, and he was only the gamekeeper. It was a biting indictment of the teaching staff, but then so were trolls and possessed teachers.
All in all, Tony's summer was shaping up to be busier than his last semester had been, when he'd been balancing taking over the company and finishing up his degrees. Still, he wasn't going to complain, because he was getting to learn about magic!
Harry loved exploring Hudson Alley. It was like his first trip to Diagon Alley, but instead of Hagrid rushing him along from one stop to the next, Tony was just as eager as Harry to investigate every nook and cranny. They were both wearing goblin glamours, so they wouldn't be recognized, and were able to simply explore at their leisure.
One of the first places they'd gone to was the house elf traders' corner, where they were able to obtain a house elf. House elves could cook and clean, but most importantly they could do magic that Harry was forbidden from performing. It meant that they could shrink all the packages that Harry and Tony bought, pop them home in an instant, and unshrink them.
They'd picked a bright eyed, happy elf girl named Jelly. She could read and write, and her speech was clear. Some of the others had been hard to understand, and it was clear that some of the traders put more effort into teaching their elves than others. Jelly was thrilled to join their family, and easily bonded to Tony and Harry. Since bonding to a house elf didn't require active magic, Tony as a squib was able to do it, and Jelly became a Stark.
Harry was going to be a Stark too — at least on paper. During his meeting with the Headmistress, Madam Fairchild, Harry had taken short version of the end of year tests, to prove that he'd learned enough to attend his second year at Ilvermorny. To his shame, he'd failed the tests for potions, history, and defense, and only barely passed in transfiguration and astronomy.
Madam Fairchild had reassured him that Harry was not the first transfer from Hogwarts they'd had, and those students always tended to place a year behind their peers, as Hogwarts had such low standards for their professors and students. Harry felt a little better at that, and at the knowledge that he could still start as a first year in September. In fact, as Tony pointed out, doing so — like taking the name Stark — would help hide him from Dumbledore and his minions, as they would be looking for someone older.
The goblins had already taken care of his curse scar, and healed his eyesight, so he no longer looked like Harry Potter. And since he appeared to be a year younger, and with a different last name, it would help hide him from British searchers.
Put like that, Harry was fine with starting over. In fact, he was looking forward to getting a second chance at potions and defense. Even history had sounded fascinating when he'd first read his book, so it was just Binns who had ruined it for him. Madam Fairchild had even known of a spell that would give Harry an American accent, like Tony's, so he wouldn't give himself away that way!
First years were not allowed on the quidditch teams here either, and Madam Fairchild had told Harry that she would not be making an exception for him. That was fine with Harry, as he'd never actually asked to be on the quidditch team in the first place. He liked flying just fine, but he could do without the dangers of bludgers and Slytherins slamming into him. He was perfectly happy not playing quidditch at Ilvermorny.
And now they had a whole alley to explore! All kinds of little shops lined the path beneath the river, and an enchanted ceiling overhead showed the view underwater. Harry knew it was enchanted because it didn't show the trash and muggle boats and things that were surely up there. Still, it cast a gorgeous cool hue on everything, and it really felt like being underwater.
Jelly had to make three trips at the bookstore to get all of the books that Tony and Harry wanted, and two at the apothecary. Tony was fascinated by potions, and since it was one of the magics that squibs were capable of performing, except at the highest levels, he was going to be following along with Harry in his books. All of Harry's textbooks were new, save for The Standard Book of Spells, so he had a lot of shopping to do for school. He also needed new uniforms and even a new wand. There was a chance that the British Ministry of Magic could use the trace on his wand to find him, even if he wasn't using it.
Madam Fairchild had recommended getting a new wand at Fenwick's, and then placing his old wand in his vault. Tony had thought it was an excellent idea, and had been only a little surprised to find that his new wand had a thunderbird feather at the core, since he'd been expecting a phoenix feather again. But apparently wandmakers in different countries used different cores, and Mrs. Fenwick used thunderbird feathers, griffin feathers, and wampus fur in addition to the local dragon heartstrings. Either way, Harry was very pleased with his new wand, and somehow it felt like it fit even better than his old one.
He'd also gotten a wand holster for his wrist, so he wouldn't need to keep his wand in his pocket anymore. Then they'd ducked into the Hudson Alley branch of Gringotts and paid Graveljaw a quick visit so that he could place Harry's wand in his vault. After that it was back to shopping!
Harry had gotten some owl treats for Hedwig, but Tony had been otherwise uninterested in the owl or pet shops. Still it felt like they'd hit every other shop on the street! They'd both gotten several every day robes, since Tony would occasionally need to appear to be a wizard, and so Harry would have something to wear outside of school. They'd both gotten some odd looks for their muggle — No-Mag, he reminded himself — clothing. Luckily Tony paid for everything with his Stark vault key, so no one ever knew that Harry Potter had been there.
By the end of the day, Harry was exhausted, but Jelly had brought home all of their new supplies and unpacked them, putting them away as instructed, so he was able to just collapse onto his bed after dinner and read until he fell asleep.
The rest of Harry's August passed in much the same way. He had all the time in the world to read his new books, and to get used to the sound of his new accent. Jelly served him snacks whenever he wanted them — Tony had politely let go of the cook and housekeepers, using the excuse that they would be wasted with just the three of them in the house — and allowed Jelly to take over all the cooking and cleaning. She also had house elf tethers on Harry, Tony, and Mr. Jarvis, so she could pop to their side at any time.
It was mostly a precaution in case Dumbledore found Harry and tried to whisk him away, but Harry had heard about how Tony had been kidnapped several times as a child, and figured it was better to have Jelly tether all three of them than to be sorry later.
Graveljaw even arranged for wards around the mansion which kept out those with ill intent, and which hid the backyard from muggles not in the know. It meant that Harry could fly his broom as long as he didn't go above the roofline. He also got to swim in the pool, now that he didn't have to hide that the goblins had healed up his back. They'd healed a few scars for Tony as well; Harry had overheard him talking to Mr. Jarvis about it, but it sounded like something he should keep his nose out of, so he'd crept away.
So Harry had spent the last month of his summer flying, and swimming, and reading, and comparing notes about magic with Tony. It was the best month of his life.
Harry loved Ilvermorny.
It was the yule break — they celebrated the olde ways, meaning they had a yule celebration instead of Christmas — and nothing dangerous had happened even once.
Harry was ahead in some of his classes, like charms, on track with the others in some, like potions, and behind in history. Given that his muggle, pre-Hogwarts, history lessons had all been British-centric rather than North American-centric, the last one was actually not surprising, as he lacked a certain foundation that most of his peers had.
His mind healer, whom he was seeing every other week at Mr. Jarvis's suggestion, had reassured Harry that he did not have to be the best at every subject. And told him that actually he was doing quite well at his new start. It was strange to have people who cared about how he did, however. The Dursleys never had, only insisting that he cheated if he did better than Dudley. And Ron had gotten snippy with him when he studied more than the minimum. But Tony and Mr. Jarvis actually cared about his grades.
Mostly his mind healer worked through his years with the Dursleys, and the trauma he had gone through at Hogwarts. He'd killed a man last year, and yes it was true that he'd been possessed by Voldemort, but that hadn't changed what Harry had done. As soon as he'd told that story to Tony and Mr. Jarvis while recounting why Hogwarts wasn't safe, they'd immediately insisted on the mind healer.
Mrs. Williams was a muggleborn who understood about Harry's shock at discovering magic was real, and she'd gotten her licenses in both muggle child psychology and magical mind healing. She was also silenced by a magical vow of confidentiality, so no one would find out from her that he used to be Harry Potter, Britain's savior.
Harry much preferred being Harry Stark, little known cousin of Tony Stark, who went to Ilvermorny and had friends and wasn't quidditch mad. It was so much easier, and less stressful, and Mrs. Williams said that that was alright. It was even alright for him to resent Britain for the way they'd fawned over him and constantly brought up his parents' deaths with that boy-who-lived nonsense. And it was alright for him to hate Dumbledore for everything he'd done to Harry.
Harry was still working on believing her about everything, but she said that was alright too. It would come with time. And time was something he now had plenty of.