Congratulations, it's a boy!

CHAPTER 11

The next day, even after a good night's sleep and promising not to sneak out anywhere again to Tony while he was asleep - which Harry argued wasn't sneaking out at all since he simply walked out, no sneaking required - Tony still seemed to hold a grudge against Loki.

That manifested while Harry was sharing breakfast with the man and having a pleasant chat when Loki strode in, only to be hit in the face with a boiled egg of all things.

He looked so scandalized that Harry couldn't help it and burst out laughing.

"What is wrong with you, Stark?!" Loki demanded, clearly trying to figure out which unfortunate life choices had led him to this.

Fearlessly, Tony stood up and marched up to the God, then took a swing that Loki barely missed. "You're a child stealing piece of shit, Loki! I had my son for one fucking day - one, and you're already his guardian?!"

Loki shot a panicked look at a sniggering teenager but received no support. He raised his hands in surrender.

"Hey, don't blame me! Your son was the one to suggest it to me! And while I admit that there isn't a better choice than I, it's still not my fault!"

Tony growled and looked like he was going to hit him again, but held himself back. "You'rethe adult. You get the blame."

"Preposterous. I'm innocent."

"You gloated all the way through the appointment," Harry pointed out loudly, beyond intrigued to watch two people arguing over his guardianship. He was under the belief that people wanted to get rid of him, not get ahold of him.

Tony looked ready to punch the god again and Loki took a cautious step back. "Not helping, Harrison," he hissed.

The boy shrugged.

"I don't see why you're fighting. Magical guardian has different… responsibilities, per se, and like I said, it's temporary."

"What other responsibilities?" Tony demanded to know.

"Making sure I finish and have adequate magical education, making sure I integrate into the world properly, that I know how to manage my estates and finances, am aware of laws and such. That kind of thing."

"How is Loki, who had no idea about your world existing before now, is supposed to help with all that?"

Harry shrugged. "Like I said, it's temporary. Entering the tournament gave me a viable cause to become emancipated, but I must be fifteen at least. So, it's a waiting game."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. God help him.

"You," he pointed at the God who still had some egg in his hair. "You know where this magical district is?"

Loki nodded.

"You will take me there."

"Oy! What for?" Harry shouted. "What about me?"

"We need lawyers, kid. I'm telling you, you get the best ones and it's like, all of your problems disappear."

"Is that how you run your life, Stark?"

"You can bet your ass that I do."

"You can't actually sue people!" Harry screamed. "Nobody knows you're my father! Nobody even knows I'm here! I've been essentially pronounced missing and I- I don't want to- I don't bloody want people to find out I'm here, because I will be dragged back to England and locked up again!"

Harry was panting when he finished his rant, feeling slightly nauseous. He shouldn't have let Tony con him into eating so much food.

"Harry," Tony walked up to him as he spoke in a soft voice. "Do you honestly think I'll allow anyone to just take you? You were pretty sleepy, but I told you yesterday: you're in my legal custody. And as much as I want to smash that idiot's behind me face for being your extra, super unnecessary magical guardian, that also means they have no legal right to you."

"Didn't stop them before," Harry lowered his eyes, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. He was so powerless before. Why could Dumbledore dictate where he spent his summers? He should've had no say in it at all.

They weren't related.

Tony snorted. "Well, anyone is welcome to try, kid, but I'm telling you: they're going back home in pieces. I'll show you later some of the stuff that I've made, what it can do. You'll love it."

That forced a reluctant smile on Harry’s face. Tony sounded so enthusiastic about this 'stuff', that Harry couldn't help but feel excited as well.

"Now, you're going to have to brief me -us," Tony corrected himself after Loki pointedly cleared his throat, "-on what happened. With the whole kidnapping thing and all."

Harry sighed deeply, reaching out for the cup of coffee Tony's ordered for him. He preferred tea, but this will do just fine. He wasn't one to complain about food. 

"The Tri-Wizarding Tournament happened in my school. It was supposed to be students of age only, but someone entered my name and I was forced to compete. That's not the point - the point is, someone did it with a plan in mind, to kidnap me at the end of the third task. I touched that trophy - a portkey - and was transported to a graveyard. But I wasn't alone. Another champion touched it as well and - he was killed immediately upon arrival."

Harry couldn't look them in the eye, afraid to see disgust that he didn't manage to save Cedric. Didn't even try.

"A man named Pettigrew tied me to the tombstone and took blood from me. Blood from an enemy, forcibly taken. For a ritual to restore the Dark Lord's body. He was resurrected that night. We fought, I escaped through a fluke that shouldn't have been possible and ended up here. You know the rest, but…" Harry gulped, forcing his head up to meet the horrified eyes of Tony. His father. "There's a world wide search going for me. And… how the fuck am I supposed to show up days later, healthy, not kidnapped, while Cedric is probably still lying in that graveyard, dead?"

"Can't you tell them the truth, about the Darth Vader and all?" Tony asked, and Harry offered a small smile at his naivety. He used to be like that too before he was hit in the face with the fact that people believed what they wanted to believe. Truth rarely mattered.

"No one worried, believe me. I- I saw some papers while in the Magical Alley. They are calling Dumbledore senile for suggesting it was the work of the Dark Lord. If I told someone he's back with no proof other than my word? They'd lynch me."

"Then lie," Loki shrugged. "You were kidnapped by his follower, which is true. You escaped, but your transportation device was flawed. You were hurt. You needed time to recover, couldn't contact anyone earlier. Mostly true. Just evade some things and you'll be fine."

"Pretty sure people need to know about the Big Bad, dude," Tony said, glaring at Loki. "Harry?"

The boy shook his head.

"You don't know the people there. Nobody believed me about not entering my name into the tournament, and when I insisted on it being true, my name was dragged through the mud in papers. I'm not going through it again, especially not with something like this. I'd be lynched."

"Fine. Then how do you want to play it?" Asked Loki. "I mean, I don't mind you hiding here forever, and neither does Stark, but I doubt that's what you want."

Harry paused, then shook his head.

"No, but… not yet. I'd rather have a few days of peace first. Those are… exceedingly rare."

Tony snorted. "Ain't that right. Well, if you're not storming the Magical World, mind coming down with me to the lab? I think it's time to introduce you to my babies. Hm… could I call them your other siblings?"

Harry stared. "You have children in the lab?"

"Come on down and you'll see, mini-me. It's your right of passage. Not you," Tony stabbed a finger into Loki's chest. "You're not welcome in my lab. Actually, don't even go near it. I'll make something that throws eggs at you if you're within fifteen feet of it. Fair warning."

"Rude. Fine. I know when I'm not wanted," Loki huffed, turned on his heel and left, his clock fluttering behind him.

"Dramatic, isn't he?" Harry muttered.

Tony couldn't help but laugh, reaching out to ruffle Harry’s hair which startled the boy a little. "Kid, you have no idea. I mean, I guess it's expected since he's a god, but not even Thor is so dramatic, and trust me, he is. All that Shakespearian language and shit. You'll see."

"The- what language?"

"Shakespeare?" Harry shrugged, having no idea who or what that was. "Do you… what do you read in that school of yours? Do you not have an English class or something?"

Harry shook his head.

"No? What for? We're there to learn magic and not whatever that was." Harry scrunched up his nose.

"What? No wizarding primary school? How do you learn how to write?" Tony looked almost scandalized.

Harry shook his head. "No? As far as I know, magical children are tutored privately, either by their parents or tutors. I went to primary school since I had no idea I was a wizard, though, as did all muggleborns. Which…" was a bit fucked up. Why wasn't there any formal education for kids?

But was it necessary? Harry hated primary school, but that was mostly due to Dudley alienating everyone. Harry enjoyed learning.

"Weird. Not gonna lie." Tony shrugged it off easily. "Can't say you missed much, though. Hm… did you have a PE class?"

Harry shook his head. "We have quidditch?" He smirked. "Although, with all those stairs it wasn't necessary, I'm sure."

Ah, so that's what Harry meant earlier.

"Cap was so insulted when you told him you not only have no idea who he is, but don't have sports at your school. He takes it suuuper seriously. Probably because his face is plastered over every single video. Arrogant little shit."

"I… have no idea what you mean," Harry admitted, getting more and more frustrated with just how much he didn't understand.

"You're not missing much." Tony stood up. "Come on. My lab is this way."

Having a panic attack would've been right on par.

Harry felt just as the day he stepped into the Diagon Alley for the first time. Awed and completely overwhelmed.

Tony's lab looked like a movie. Harry was afraid to touch anything.

Apparently, his father was a bloody genius, because Harry had no idea what any of that stuff was, not to mention moving robots that understood what Tony was saying.

He had to pinch himself several times just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

And then Tony showed him his 'suit'. Ir reminded Harry of some old Dudley's toys he was never allowed to touch.

"You're going to have to elaborate, because I'm completely lost," Harry admitted with slightly tinted cheeks and head bowed in shame. He really should've taken a few Muggle Studies classes, but he was pretty sure they didn't teach anything like this. Harry was lost.

"Ah, this suit?" Tony knocked on the metal. "I made it. It's tuned to my body, so if I do this," Tony flicked his wrist, and the hand part of the suit just flew over and attached itself to Tony, like some glove, "it comes to me. Super convenient, especially in sticky situations. The whole suit is like that, and with it, I can fly."

"How did you even think to make this?" Harry asked, because he didn't think normal muggles were going around creating things like these. Harry certainly never even thought about it. Why would he?

"Ah, you see…" Tony looked downright uncomfortable as he put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and led him over to one of the tables where he was pushed to sit down. "A while ago I was… kidnapped." Harry’s eyes widened. "While there, I was instructed to build a weapon, but instead… I built something very similar to my suit so I could escape. It was shit and fell apart faster than I'd like, but it did its job and I escaped. After that, I decided to build a proper one. Took some time and a lot of trial and error, but I got it right, eventually."

"Merlin’s balls," Harry cursed, shocked at what he was hearing. "Is getting kidnapped a family trait?"

"Brat," Tony ruffled his hair playfully, earning himself a smile. "But probably. Should probably check our DNA for some weird mutation that would explain all the trouble we attract."

"Might be a curse," Harry nodded solemnly. "I know for a fact some families carry curses throughout generations."

"Really?"

Harry nodded. "Yep."

"Jesus, kid. I feel completely out of my depth with the whole magic thing." Harry winced, guilt flashing over his face but Tony shook his head. "No. You're not allowed to feel guilty, Harry. Hey, look at me." Harry slowly lifted his eyes to look at his father, still not over the fact that someone wantedhim, magic and a murderer after him, and all. "I'm glad to be part of your magical life. It'll just take both of us time to adjust to what each of us consider normal, yeah?" The boy nodded slowly, and Tony grinned. "Atta boy. Come on. Let me show you some more of my trinkets before someone comes to steal you away."

Writing a letter to Sirius shouldn't have been that hard.

Just a 'hey, I'm not dead. Want to come meet my new dad?' should've done the trick, but things weren't that easy.

He didn't want to tip anyone off as to where he was. People would get suspicious if Sirius was the one getting letters. They'd snoop and find Harry.

And he wasn't willing to risk it. At least not until he can figure out something cryptic enough that couldn't be deciphered.

The underlying fear that he'll be forced to go back to the Dursleys never went away. He'd hear some bullshit about wards, about necessity of sacrifices, and then goodbye Harry. C'est la vie.

That's not to mention… Voldemort. Harry shuddered.

So far he completely ignored that it happened. That Cedric was killed in front of him, that that filthy traitor Pettigrew tied him up and used him. That Voldemort-

Voldemortwasback.

It felt more like a dream than a memory. Did anyone even know he's back? Would anyone even care?

Would anyone believe him if he told them?

Harry had a distinct feeling that the Wizarding Britain preferred to remain ignorant and just prefered to keep going as if nothing was happening.

And Harry had a track record of people not believing him about important things. Nobody believed him about the Dursleys. McGonagall didn't believe him when Harry warned her about the Philosopher's Stone. Nobody believed him about him hearing Basilisk, or not being the culprit. Bloody Minister of Magic brushed him off after he insisted on Sirius' innocence. No one stood by him when he said he didn't put his damned name into the Goblet of Fire. Not even his best friend, which Harry was still salty about.

He was going in circles and always ended up in the same place: not being believed. Why would this time be different?

He'd be called a liar again, portrayed as someone who was trying to instill fear into the masses. Merlin knows what Rita Skeeter would write, considering all those disgusting articles that called him an attention seeking twelve year old.

The things they were calling Dumbledore right now were enough to put Harry off from opening his big fat mouth, unless he was given veritaserum. But even then… they'd probably call him delusional.

Loki was right in suggesting telling half truths. And he will, he just… Harry just needs to find out what those are and write the damn letter to Sirius. He must be freaking out, thinking Harry must be dead.

Padfoot, Harry began and-

Now what?

He must be smart with this. What if death eaters intercept this letter?

I'm well, Harry writes, gripping the pen with more force than usual. His writing was all shaky - it's been years since he's held a muggle pen in his hand. It felt so weird to write with it now.

I'm with family. A long story you're a part of. I feel cheated: I was led to believe my parents weren't fond of attending muggle parties in secret, yet, here I am. Want to come meet someone certain from one of those parties?

I hear goblins honor secrecy above all.

Be safe,

Mini Prongs

Harry nodded.

Sounded vague enough. A complete nonsense if you didn't know what the sender was implying.

Now, Harry just needed to go back to Gringotts and have them send this letter. Perhaps they could add a portkey for Sirius to it or something; he had no idea how to make one. Yet.

He should've bought books instead of clothes. Harry groaned. He really was in desperate need of learning more spells.

At least Hermione would be proud.

Sleep had become a rare guest for the Lord of the Black family.

The Blacks had always been a family that honoured familial ties above all else, and if you slighted one family member, you slighted them all.

Or at least that was how it was in the past; now the family had been broken apart, serving Lords who didn't give one shit about them or their families. Most were dead.

But Harry was his family. His pup. His heir.

Sirius promised to both, Lily and James to take care of him for the rest of his life. And he would.

Not because of that promise, but because he could still recall how the small baby Harry looked at him with those bright green eyes full of joy when he came to visit, squealed, and demanded to be picked up. How that day Harry spoke his first word, and it was Paddy.

How Sirius, who never wanted to have kids in his life, felt like a proud father at that moment, and promised that little boy to protect him from everything bad in this world.

And how he failed that promise.

Sirius would rather crucio himself than abandon his godson again.

He promised Harry a family, and a family he shall get.

And the Blacks… people have forgotten the reason why their family has always given their children the names of the stars, of constellations. People tend to forget just what kind of power this family wielded before war broke them apart, after they lost their faith in the stars, in each other. Forgot their path.

If you ever met a centaur, they'd tell you they can see the future written in the stars.

But so can the Blacks.

Divination has always been a powerful tool and Blacks had been blessed by it, blessed and led by the stars for centuries.

It's a shame his family had abandoned their gift, but Sirius hasn't. He hasn't forgotten the tales his uncle - the last Lord Black - had told him.

He was certain they will guide him and he'll be reunited with his godson once more.

No matter the price.