White walls and clean sheets
Harry felt comfortable. Which was bad. Because when Harry had fallen asleep, he was decidedly not comfortable.
He kept his eyes closed, his breathing even, and listened closely. He could hear a very faint beeping noise, and someone tapping their shoe on the floor next to him. He could smell a strong disinfectant, probably hospital grade. And he could feel a constant pressure on his arm, likely from an IV. Hospital. He was in a muggle hospital.
So he was found - or more likely, woken up and gotten down from his hiding spot before he was found. Hopefully he had the good sense to leave his bag or at least stuff his cloak into his bag.
Deciding he had gathered all he could, Harry cracked open his eyes cautiously. Tony fucking Stark. Sitting next to him. Staring at him. Bloody hell.
“Harry?” Stark broached, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between them. Harry stared at the man, his body tensing. “I’ve been looking for you,”
Fuck. Stark knew. Harry’s eyes darted toward the door, debating what his chance of escape was. Low. Very fucking low.
“Shit, kid, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just… Ah, hell. Harry, I’m your dad,”
Smooth. Really fucking smooth, Stark.
“I’m sure this is probably a lot of information, and you’re probably overwhelmed, so I’ll leave you alone to think for a bit,” Stark said, reaching for the door as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. Figures. Harry rolled his eyes as soon as Stark was out of sight, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
So Stark hated him already. Fine. He took out his IV and tentatively stood, gingerly testing out his ankle. It was fine. Probably.
A sharp pain laced up his leg when he took another step, and Harry winced. His ankle would be fine. He just had to get out of here. No use staying when Stark clearly didn’t even want to talk to him. Like the Dursleys. Which was fine.
Taking a closer look at his surroundings, Harry realised the beds and medical equipment were all top-notch, though not in use, and there were large windows on one wall overlooking the city. He must be in Stark Tower. It only made sense that Stark had some sort of high class medical floor in his tower.
Harry continued to limp across the room, glad for whatever painkillers Stark’s staff must have put in him.
He had to get out of here.
No way was he sticking around to see just how similar Stark was to his previous guardians.