Chapter 5
Harriet is left alone in the room not long after Dr. Banner drops that nuclear bomb on her. She can feel the static of her magic sparking at her fingertips and the ends of her hair, anxiety continuously rising with every moment she spends in the tower.
What is she going to do? She can’t heal herself without one of her wands and even then, she can’t exactly cast magic in front of muggles. She could call Kreacher or Azzy, but she’s not sure how the occupants of Stark Tower will react to an elf or a death deity appearing out of thin air.
Much more slowly and carefully than before, she shifts on the bed until she is sitting up, propped on the pillows behind her. Harriet takes slow breaths through gritted teeth, working through the pain radiating out from her side. As it lessens to an ache rather than a throb, she tries to examine her surroundings more thoroughly. The room looks sterile, the machines around her all shining as if they’ve been freshly polished. She finally takes note of the needle stuck into her arm on the inside of her elbow, not too far above her puncture scar from her battle with a basilisk several years ago. The sight makes her more nauseous than the gaping hole in her side had the night before. The needle connects to a tube where clear liquid flows into her. An IV, her subconscious provides. She’s had such little interaction with muggle healing methods in her life that it’s easy to forget what their contraptions are called at times. Aunt Petunia rarely took Harriet to the doctor as a child, and she only ever encountered magical healing after the age eleven. Godric, what she wouldn’t give for a pain potion right about now.
When she realizes that her magic is actually visibly sparking over her fingers, she forces herself to take a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. She has to calm down or she’s going to make this situation ten times worse than it already is.
“Hi.”
Her lids fly open as she jolts in surprise. The sudden movement causes her to hiss in pain, pressing her hand to her bandages once again. A glance about the room reveals a child standing beside her bed. A child that looks suspiciously similar to herself. Harriet begins internally cursing the creators of the toy robot that led her to this situation.
Morgan Stark (Because who else could the little girl be?) stares up at her with wide green eyes, a curious expression on her face. Morgan’s eyes are lighter than her own, more sea green than the emerald color Harriet sports. She assumes that the girl must have inherited her eye color from her own mother. Otherwise, it’s as if she’s staring at a past (albeit healthier and well-fed) version of herself. It’s rather disconcerting.
The two stare at one another for a few moments, Morgan’s eyes flickering between Harriet’s face and her hands. It takes longer than she would like to admit for Harriet to tear her gaze away from her sister ( her sister! ) and glance at her own hands.
“Fuck!” The curse is hissed as she slides her still sparking hands under the blankets on the bed. She glances at a younger girl, trying to think of a plausible excuse that a nine year old will believe.
“Are you magic like Dr. Strange?”
Strange? She casts her mind back to the various research she’s done on her biological father over the past few years. Dr. Strange must be one of the ‘Avengers’ Stark works with. She realizes who Morgan is talking about at the same moment that Dr. Banner walks back into the room. The sight of him makes something else click in Harriet’s brain. The man in front of her is also the green giant she has seen footage of, the Hulk.
“Morgan? What are you doing here?” Dr. Banner furrows his brows at the girl. “Peter said you were spending the day with him and your dad.”
The mini-Harri (honestly it’s as if Harriet is staring into a funhouse mirror) shrugs. “Dad and Petey were zoned and I wanted to meet the ‘pretty lady’ Petey saved.”
“Morgan!” The doctor hisses, glancing furtively at Harriet.
Her sister cocks her head to the side in confusion before realizing whatever mistake she must have made and raising her brows. “Oops?”
Harriet decides to cut in. “So, this has been fun, but I really have to go. Are those my things?” She nods at what is obviously her satchel in Banner’s hand.
He glances down before looking sheepish, shrugging. “Uh, it should be most of them.”
Even though they are still covered by the blankets, she knows that her fingers must be sparking in time with her spiking anxiety. “Most?”
Banner clears his throat but Morgan beats him to the punch. “Dad has your magic sticks!”
“Morgan!” Multiple voices call for the girl at once. Dr. Banner with wide eyes, casting apologetic looks at Harriet all the while, and what sounds like two other men from outside the room. The others sound more frantic than scolding.
Banner sighs, glancing over his shoulder and out into the rest of the med bay. “She’s in here, Tony.” He calls, stepping to the side of the still open doorway.
“No-” Harriet tears her hands from the blankets, gesturing in protest at the same time that the man that she has been actively avoiding and vaguely stalking burst into the room.
“Maguna! You can’t just leave without telling someone!” Stark ignores everyone else, only having eyes from his daughter as he kneels before her, hands on the child’s shoulders in an attempt to be stern.
The girl shrugs, not seeming worried at all over her father’s obvious anxiety. “I told Friday.”
Stark freezes before swinging his head around so fast that Harriet is sure he must have whiplash. He looks at the young man that has come to stand in the doorway. “Did you ask Friday where Morgie was?”
The other man, who looks about Harri’s age, grimaces and shakes his head. “I thought you did.”
The two stare at one another in silence for a moment before Dr. Banner sighs, giving them both looks of disappointment. “This is why when Pepper says Friday is in charge while she’s gone, she’s not joking.”
Stark smiles sheepishly as he stands, keeping a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Well, Morgan never left the tower, so no harm no foul.”
Both Banner and the unnamed man give her father unimpressed looks. The young man then turns his eyes onto Harriet. He smiles nervously, lifting a hand in an awkward wave before rubbing the back of his neck.
“Heard Spider-Man brought you in. How’re you feeling?” Brown eyes look at her so earnestly that she has to look away, not enjoying the feeling of a flush creeping up her neck. When she turns, her gaze falls back on Stark who is now looking at her with an expression that makes her think he’s putting a bit too much thought into who she is. A glance at Morgan shows the girl grinning at her, casting looks between Harriet and the other man. Finally, her eyes land on Dr. Banner, the only safe person in the room to look at.
“I want my things. Now.” She tries to sound confident, as if giving an order, but her voice shakes with anxiety. She clears her throat. “Just give me my stuff and I’ll be out of your hair. Thank the spider bloke for me.” As she speaks, she clenches her hands into fist, thankful that her magic has decided to calm, and presses them into the bed. She uses the force as leverage to turn her body and swing her legs over the side.
“Woah, hotshot!” Stark lets go of his daughter, darting out an arm to stop her progress.
“Miss Granger, I really must insist that you delay leaving just yet.” Banner’s voice is soft but he wears a stern expression. Harriet is very suddenly reminded of Remus, causing her heart to pang painfully.
Harriet shies away from her father’s touch, actively avoiding making eye contact with the man, and glares right back at the doctor. “Listen, I’m fine. Really. Thanks for the healing and thank the bug man for saving me, but I’ve really got to go.”
“Kid, come on.” She flinches as a warm hand lands on her shoulder, causing Stark to hesitate before squeezing her shoulder lightly. She tries not to look up at the man, not wanting to see their similarities that she’s sure are there. She’s examined pictures of her father enough to know how alike their features are and doesn’t need the confirmation seeing the man in person will provide. He squeezes her shoulder again. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere, especially not by yourself. Is there someone we can call for you?”
She takes a deep breath, then another. After the third she finally manages to tilt her head up and make eye contact with the billionaire, shrugging off his hand. “First, I am not a kid. Second, I can decide for myself if I’m well enough. Third, do not touch me again.” She glares as fiercely as she can manage and pushes herself to her feet. She sways slightly but manages to stay upright. “Now. I want my bag, my clothes, and my wa- sticks.”
The other occupants of the room stare at her for a quiet moment before Stark is the one to sigh this time. “Look, what did you say your name was again?”
She just manages to stop herself from giving her actual name. “Lily.”
“Well, Lily,” Something about his expression makes her think that he doesn’t quite believe her. “We can’t just let you wander down the street getting blood everywhere. So, either you give me an address and we escort you home or you tell us who to call to come get you.”
For a second, just a second, she debates apparating home right then. Statute of Secrecy be damned. Instead, she breathes deeply before meeting her father’s eyes. “I need a phone, then.”
“Now we’re talking sense!” Stark claps before pulling a cell phone out of his pocket. He fiddles with the device for a moment before handing it over.
Harriet sinks back down to sit on the edge of the bed as she dials the number for the landline in her apartment. She had installed the phone in the first few weeks after they moved, after receiving a howler from Hermione for moving to a different continent without informing anyone. The phone had been their compromise, though Ron still occasionally has the habit of writing letters. The phone rings three times before someone picks up.
“Mistress Harriet is still not here, Weasel.” Weasel? Ron or George must have called while she was gone.
“Kreach, it’s me.” Harri speaks quietly, turning slightly away from her audience as she holds the phone to her ear.
“Mistress Harriet? Where has you been? Leaving Kreacher and Master Edward all alone! Missing the dinner Kreacher cooks for you! Not coming home all night! Kreacher waits up for his Mistress but she never comes home-”
“I’m sorry, Kreach, really. I promise that I would have come home if I had been able. I got caught up in some…trouble, but I’m fine. How’s Teddy?” Asking about her son allows the anxiety over her little boy that she’s been holding back to hit her full force. She hasn’t spent a night away from Teddy since he came into her care. Even when she’s swamped with work, she always makes time to go home and tuck Teddy in at bedtime.
“Master Edward is playing with his blocks and has destroyed Kreacher’s sitting room.” She can’t help the snort she releases at the elf’s attempt to sound disapproving only for his words to ring with fondness. He does become more stern as he continues. “When should Kreacher expect Mistress to grace him with her presence?”
“About that, I need Azzy to come get me from Stark Tower.”
“Then the Mistress should call for Master Death. Kreacher’s Mistress is the Lady Black and should not lower herself to childish grudges.”
Harriet rolls her eyes, wincing as she shifts on the bed. “I am with others and unable to call Azzy at the moment. Will you please ask him to come get me?” The elf doesn’t answer. “I’ll buy you the mug- American candies you like.”
Kreacher hums and she can practically see his satisfied grin through the phone. “Kreacher will have Master Death collect Mistress.”
“Thank you, Kreach-”
“And Mistress Harriet will also buy Kreacher a new muggle moving picture in return.”
She huffs, shaking her head despite the small smile trying to tug at her lips. Honestly. As much as Kreacher once claimed to hate muggles, he sure has adjusted to their way of life. “I will buy you the American candies and a new movie.”
The line goes dead after that and she holds the phone back out to Stark. She finds her sister looking at her oddly.
“Yes?”
“Who’s Kreach?” Morgan rocks back and forth on her feet for a moment before launching up and sitting next to Harriet on the bed.
“My…roommate.” Harri finally decides.
“And Azzy?”
“My other roommate.”
“And Teddy?”
She can feel herself soften at the name, shoulders relaxing from their tense position up by her ears. She gives the girl a smile. “My son.”
“You have a kid? You’re like fifteen!” Stark interrupts, looking at her incredulously.
Harriet glares, straightening in her sitting position. “I am twenty.”
“Pfft. A baby.”
“Hey!” The younger man that is still standing by the doors cuts in, a faux offended expression on his face. “I’m twenty-one, too.”
“Point made, Petey-Pie.” Her father rolls his eyes at who she now realizes must be the Peter that had been mentioned earlier.
“Why don’t we allow Miss Granger some privacy so she can dress. Seeing as her roommate will be here soon.” Dr. Banner looks to Harriet for confirmation to which she nods. He moves across the room and opens a cabinet, pulling out a pile of folded clothes. “We had them washed last night.”
The doctor sets the clothes at the end of her bed, causing Morgan to hop down with a pout. Just as it seems that Banner is about to usher everyone out, a figure materializes right next to the bed.
“Mummy!”
“Holy fuck!”
“Morgan!”
Peter lunges forward to snatch Harri’s sister away. Stark has somehow put on the blasting glove of his metal suit and is holding it out defensively, standing in front of Peter and Morgan. Dr. Banner has taken a defensive stance as well. Azrael stands beside her, looking rather smug as he holds the struggling, blue haired toddler in his arms. Teddy reaches for her but Azzy has other plans. Death steps forward and deposits her son in Tony Stark's arms. The man catches the toddler, looking bewildered.
“Anthony Edward Stark, meet your grandson, Edward Potter.” Azrael then gestures to Harriet. “And your eldest daughter, Harriet Potter.”
Harriet’s emotions and magic boil up within her until she can hear the window on the wall opposite the door crack. “Azzy, what the fuck ?!”