“Definitely premeditated escapes.”
“How much?”
“How much what?” Harry asked.
The man, Tony, his father, grinned wryly and ran a hand through his hair. “How much money do you want?”
Harry reeled back, shocked and a bit insulted. “I don’t want your money,” he said. He’d have to be an idiot to not notice that this man was loaded, but so was Harry and so was Sirius. They didn’t need money from him, they needed help.
“My friend said you were smart,” Harry said slowly. He glanced around the lab they stood in and nodded to himself, obviously this guy was brilliant. “We, my friend and I, are in a bit of a jam…” Harry was the one grinning wryly now, a jam was a rather small way to describe their problems.
“A jam, huh?” Tony said. He looked Harry’s face over carefully with the same sort of xray vision that Harry felt like Snape had. “What friend, what kind of jam, and why did you think I could help?”
“A good friend, a bad jam, and because my friend said so,” Harry snapped.
Truthfully, he had no idea why Sirius insisted that Tony Stark was the only one who could help them. He also had no idea why Sirius wouldn’t come with him- it wasn’t like they knew who he was in the States.
Harry Potter? Sure. Apparently Harry was famous in more than one country, but Sirius Black? No.
But Sirius had been adamant, and, as he’d been the one with the escape plans, Harry hadn’t stopped to question him.
~~~~~
Harry had only been at the Dursley house for a week, but it had been the worst week he’d ever spent there in his opinion.
Everything hurt.
His head. His heart. His body.
His emotions felt overwhelming and Harry was ready to break.
Harry had been laying flat on his back in his bare room, staring lifelessly up at the ceiling—
‘Kill the spare!’
‘Take the cup and go!’
‘Bring my body back to my parents.’
“Harry?”
Harry was so startled by the familiar voice that he flipped off his bed and then hissed through his teeth at the painful jolting motion. He scrambled to the door and tried to look through the crack at the bottom.
“Sirius?” he whispered, hope and dread filling him.
Hope that it was his godfather, as it sounded like.
Dread that it was his godfather, as it sounded like.
“Back up,” Sirius whispered back. He sounded hoarse, but with the thrum of excitement in his voice that he always had.
“Don’t—”
Harry no sooner than whispered the word before his door was kicked open with a loud bang. The hard wood swung back and hit Harry in the face, bloodying his nose.
“Shit!” Sirius ducked down to the floor and pried Harry’s hands away from his face. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I- Harry, what the fuck happened to you?!”
Harry wrenched himself from Sirius’ grasp and backed away to sit on the edge of his bed. He turned his head a little, angling to keep the worst of the facial bruises hidden in the shadows, and swiped at his sore nose with the bottom hem of the baggy grey shirt he wore.
“What are you doing here?” Harry asked harshly, always pushing before he was pushed.
Sirius rocked back on the heels of his feet, staring at Harry intensely and causing Harry’s scowl to deepen.
“You first, I think,” Sirius said slowly. He looked around Harry’s bedroom and Harry was suddenly glad for the darkness to hide the lack of detail and the abundance of misery etched in the room.
“You broke in my bedroom, you first,” Harry snapped. He jumped to his feet and moved to the window. He kept his back to Sirius and kept his head turned just enough to keep him in his line of sight.
Sirius snorted and took Harry’s abandoned spot on his bed. He kept his hands on his thighs and his eyes steady on Harry’s head. “Glad you brought that up, why the fuck did you have seven bloody padlocks on your door?”
“It’s a dangerous neighborhood,” Harry said flatly.
“They were locking you in.”
“To keep the neighborhood safe, you see.”
Sirius laughed, but it was bitter and more surprised than amused. “Yeah? Beat yourself up then, kiddo?”
Harry scowled and ducked his head. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking on my godson since he hasn’t wrote me any letters assuring me of his excellent health, clearly,” Sirius drawled.
Harry grinned and shook his head. Sirius was a prat, but he was Harry’s favorite prat. Harry turned a little and leaned against the wall, carefully keeping his head turned away from Sirius. “Yeah?” Harry feigned surprise. “That’s mad, Sirius. Except, I bet if your godson had gotten a single bloody letter from his godfather, he probably would have replied.”
Sirius dropped the act and he blinked quickly at Harry. “Not getting my letters? Harry, I’ve sent you a dozen!”
Harry raised a skeptical brow. “I’ve been here eight days.”
“And I’ve been worried about you for fourteen years,” Sirius countered with. He pinched his brows together and scowled at the floor, “You didn’t get a single letter?”
Harry shrugged, ignoring the pain as he did so, “Nope.”
Sirius growled and lifted his head to stare harshly at Harry. “And the bruises?”
“You did hit me with a door,” Harry said drily. “Suppose it could have happened then.”
“Cut the cute crap, Harry,” Sirius said, his tone serious and fed up now. “What happened?”
Harry frowned and inched backward, Sirius rarely lost his temper, but it was always dramatic when he did. “Same shit as always, Sirius. ‘Welcome home, go fuck yourself.’”
Harry didn’t have to explain past that, not to Sirius, not again. The two of them had shared more than enough conversations over Sirius’ enchanted mirrors during the course of Harry’s fourth year. Sirius was Harry’s favorite person in the world, he didn’t have to be distant with him and he didn’t have to wear a mask with him.
He still did, usually, but he didn’t have to.
“I’m going to fucking kill them,” Sirius growled. He jumped to his feet and flicked his wand in his hand in an instant. He looked torn for a moment, glancing between Harry and the door.
Harry quirked his lips in a wry smirk. “I think if you choose revenge over me one more time then my feelings might get hurt here.”
Sirius bared his teeth and ran his empty hand through his hair, tugging harshly at the black locks. “I can use a knife, no magic, no Azkaban?” he offered.
Harry relaxed a little, if Sirius was talking then he was thinking. “Good idea,” he said. “I’ll write to you from prison when they arrest me for the crime.”
Sirius smiled, an empty and joyless smile, and sank back on Harry’s bed. “It is my turn to frame someone else for a crime,” he joked weakly.
Harry gave him a soft chuckle for his effort. “They’re gone anyway,” he said, glancing out the window and down in the empty driveway. “Our definitely not premeditated murder will have to wait.”
“Excellent. Let’s plan our definitely premeditated escapes then, huh?”
~~~~~
Sirius was a mad bastard, but he had been correct, Tony Stark was Harry’s biological father.
Maybe he underestimated Harry’s ability to get the man’s assistance though.
“So a good friend needs your help to get out of a bad jam?” Tony asked Harry. “And this same good friend just happened to know that you were my son, something I didn’t even know?”
“Yes,” Harry said coolly. He was so on edge. He was tired, he was hungry, he was sore, he just found out twelve hours ago that he wasn’t an orphan. He was ready to snap and he didn’t want to do it in front of this man. “Feel free to run the test again,” Harry waved his hand at the machine that made Tony believe the story, “but then I’d still like to ask for that favor and I’d rather not do it with a bald spot.”
Tony, inexplicably, grinned. “Can I hear the favor over a hot meal? I’m so hungry that, I’m not kidding, that microscope is starting to look tasty.”
Harry rolled his eyes and weighed his options.
Oh. That’s right. He didn’t have any.
“Fine,” Harry sighed. He backed away from the doorway when it looked like that was the direction Tony was headed. He forced himself to keep his head up, refusing to drop it in front of this man. He didn’t care what Sirius said about Tony Stark partying with him and his parents ‘back in the day’, Tony Stark was a wild card and Harry didn’t know how to play him yet.
“What kind of food do you like?” Tony asked Harry over his shoulder as he led him back toward the lift. “Chinese? Italian? Sushi? I’m an excellent chef, Harry. You just name it, and I’ll order it.” He grinned at Harry, apparently pleased with his joke.
Harry blinked away the surprise that wanted to appear on his face. Apparently Tony had meant they would be sharing a hot meal.
“Whatever is fine,” Harry mumbled as he inched around Tony into the lift.
“Any allergies? Food you hate? Food that transform you into a ten foot tall green giant monster?”
Harry picked his head up to give Tony a curious look. “Mushrooms,” he quipped sarcastically. “Except I turn purple, not green.”
Tony threw his head back and roared with laughter. “No mushrooms then,” he said once he controlled himself.
Harry’s hand tensed every time he said something that would have gotten a backhand, at a minimum, from his relatives, but Tony seemed determined to find every single line Harry fed him hilarious.
It was infuriating.
Harry lived for the the tiny adrenaline rush he got every time he put himself in a ‘risky situation’. It made him feel alive, it took away his endless apathy.
Flamel’s stone was in trouble? Time to go save it.
Ginny was in a chamber with a basilisk? Harry would help.
Confront a mass murderer, a werewolf, and a hundred dementors? Absolutely.
Those were the times Harry was awake.
Sirius called him an adrenaline junky, Harry told him it took one to know one. The two of them were a lot alike, and Harry would do anything for him.
Even apparently sit through dinner with Tony and ask him for help.
The lift went up and let out a ding when it reached the top floor.
Harry almost raised his brows at the posh and technology filled flat the lift doors opened to, but he caught himself last moment. He could see why the guy thought Harry was after his money.
“Nice place,” Harry said neutrally as they moved through a huge foyer into an even larger sitting room. There was a telly covering an entire wall and a wall of glass windows directly across from it.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Tony winked, causing Harry to scoff softly as he unintentionally quoted something Ron once said to him.
“Hey, Jarvis.”
“Yes, Mister Stark?”
Harry twitched harshly at the disembodied voice that floated through the room. He spun around, trying to find its owner, but found no one aside from Tony in the room.
Tony grinned at Harry again and strolled over to the massive fridge in the kitchen set off along the fourth wall in the room. “Jarvis is my assistant,” he called, even though Harry didn’t ask him to explain. He popped the fridge open and browsed the contents for a moment. “I’ll give you a beer if you tell me how old you really are.”
Harry lost his curiosity about Jarvis in the face of the insult. “I said I’m fourteen, I’m not lying,” he insisted. He followed Tony toward the kitchen then hesitated next to one of the tall stools at a bar-style countertop. “I’m short, not stupid, I know my age.”
Tony chuckled again and pulled out two cans of soda, he put one on the bar counter, apparently for Harry, and gestured for him to take a seat. “No son of mine could have an IQ less than 100,” he boasted.
“Sure,” Harry drawled. He gingerly sat on the edge of the barstool, though he casually scooted down one when Tony took the seat directly beside him. Harry cracked open the can, mimicking Tony’s actions, while Tony called for Jarvis again.
His… his disembodied voice possible robot or magical assistant.
Sirius swore Tony was a muggle, but Harry was skeptical.
“Can you order us…” Tony stared thoughtfully at Harry for a moment. “Two large meat lovers pizzas, an order of breadsticks, and one of those brookie desserts from that place I like?”
“Of course, Mister Stark. It will arrive shortly.”
“You eat a lot,” Harry said, quite rudely. He was so damn on edge though that he’d almost take a quick brawl to ease his nerves.
Tony grinned again and guzzled half his drink. “And you’re a damn smartass,” he said. It was a statement that would precede a smack from Uncle Vernon, but Tony said it… fondly?
“What’s your mom’s name, anyway?”
Harry stiffened in his seat. “Can’t remember the name of every woman you shagged?” he sneered defensively.
“Nope.” Tony shrugged and plunked his elbow on the bar before resting his head in his hand and watching Harry curiously. “Where is she?”
“Dead.”
“Oh.” Tony’s eyes went soft and it put Harry further on the defense. “I’m sorry, kid, that’s rough.”
Harry didn’t have a reply to that, so he chose not to reply. He held Tony’s sympathetic eyes as long as he could, which admittedly was not all that long, before dropping his eyes to his lap.
“What was her name?”
Harry’s voice was soft, wistful, “Lily.”
“Not…” Tony abruptly sat up and his jerky motion had Harry quickly picking his head back up. “Not Lily Potter?”
Harry…
Harry had never said his last name was Potter.
“Maybe,” Harry said slowly. He watched as Tony’s eyes widened in surprise. “You do remember her then?”
“I remember spending about a week with Lily, James, and a few of their friends in London around the right time, yeah,” Tony said. His eyes were still surprised, but there was a soft smile on his face now. Nostalgic, maybe.
And considering he was feeling nostalgic about a week he spent partying with Harry’s parents, during which time Harry was conceived, it was pretty bloody disturbing.
“How- where’s James?” Tony asked Harry after shaking the smile off his face and frowning suddenly.
“Also dead,” Harry said shortly.
“Jesus Christ.” Tony rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “I’m sorry, kid. I guess I probably missed my chance to send flowers to the funeral, huh?”
Harry snorted. “Almost fourteen years too late for that,” he said.
Tony’s look of sympathy and surprise flickered quickly. “They’ve been dead for over ten years?” he repeated. “Who do you live with?”
“Suppose that’s not your business,” Harry said carefully, all his muscles tensing up. “Unless you want to help me out?”
“Anything, kid. You name it.”
Harry held back from smiling at the earnest way Tony offered that. “I fake need ID’s, passports, birth certificates, social security cards, and plane tickets for me and my friend.” Harry smiled blandly at Tony, “If you can help me and my friend get a place in Russia, I’ll even give you my address.”
Tony’s jaw dropped at Harry’s request. “You… you came here, told me I have a son, and you want to move to Russia?”
“Yes,” Harry nodded.
“Why?!”
“They don’t extradite to the UK,” Harry said glibly, hiding the truth behind sarcasm.
“But…” Tony ran a hand through his hair, messing up the styled dark locks into something more similar to Harry’s. “What the fuck?” he blurted, looking hard at Harry now. “You traveled here from London to ask me to get you and a friend some super illegal paperwork so you can run off to Russia?”
“Yup.”
“Why?!” Tony threw his hands in the air and Harry relished the tiny spark of life that his aggravation gave him. “You could have came to someone- anyone else. Why come tell me I have a kid only to rush off and leave?”
“Sorry to break your fantasies of father son bonding, but I’m only here to ask if you’ll help,” Harry said. “My friend told me you were the best. And we are in—”
“A bad jam,” Tony repeated Harry’s words from earlier. He pointed a finger at Harry, sending Harry scooting back in his seat a bit. “You want me to break the law for you and you won’t even tell me what you’re running from.”
“I’m sitting, actually,” Harry said. He took a sip of his soda in a stab at appearing perfectly at ease, but the liquid sloshed in the can as Harry’s hand shook. He quickly sat the can back down and tucked his hands beneath his legs. Tony’s eyes tracked the movement, and Harry dared him to comment on it with his eyes.
Tony didn’t, surprisingly. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and mumbled something to himself that Harry couldn’t catch.
“Mister Stark, your order has arrived.”
Tony groaned again at Jarvis’ announcement. He slowly stood up and pointed at Harry again, causing Harry to narrow his eyes irritably.
“If I go grab our food, are you going to disappear before I get back?”
“If you stick your finger in my face again then I’m going to burn this building to the ground and you’ll wish I had simply disappeared,” Harry sneered. He wasn’t suicidal, necessarily, he wouldn’t bat his hand out of his face, but he’d rather not have him that close either.
Tony almost immediately dropped his hand, and he shook his head fondly. “That chair was an innocent bystander. It never meant you any harm.” He gave Harry a smile and his eyes looked like they were hopeful, “I’ll be back in a jiff, don’t disappear because I’ll spend the rest of my life tracking you down and you’ll never know a moment of rest.”
Tony turned and all but jogged to the lift doors, as if worried that Harry would disappear while he went to get food.
“That chair was a menace and you should be thanking me for getting rid of the bloody thing!” Harry called to him just before the lift doors closed.
Tony laughed again, leaving Harry perplexed.
Harry closed his eyes and let his forehead smack on the bar counter. Not for the first time, he desperately wished Sirius had came with him.
~~~~~
“Can’t you come with me?” Harry whispered to his godfather desperately. The two of them were standing in the lobby of the airport and Harry had a sudden desperate desire to drag Sirius on the plane with him.
“Planes are fun, don’t be worried,” Sirius assured Harry quietly, purposefully ignoring the true source of Harry’s anxiety. “You’ll like flying. And someone needs to stay to keep You-Know-Who and You-Know-Who off your trail.”
Harry scoffed and looked around at the crowds and the noise and the lines. He was more anxious about this part of the plan than he was about Voldemort or Dumbledore finding him. Harry never been on a plane before, never even stepped foot in an airport.
The Dursley’s certainly never took him on holiday, and wizards had no need for him. The latter of the two being the reason Sirius decided it was the safest way to get Harry to America without getting caught.
“What if he won’t help?” Harry asked Sirius quietly, his eyes on his scuffy trainers. “What if…”
“Hey.” Sirius put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and they both ignored the flinch it caused. “Tony Stark’s a good guy, kiddo. He’s- he’s going to love you, I just know it. I bet he’ll be thrilled to find out he’s got such a brilliant son.”
Harry scoffed and kicked at the floor. “He’s not my dad,” he told Sirius, though he spoke to the floor. “Blood doesn’t make family,” he peeked up at Sirius through his fringe, “right?”
Even under Polyjuice, the smile looked like Sirius. “Right,” he agreed. “Blood doesn’t make family, but love does, kiddo, and he’s going to love you.”
“I’m coming right back for you,” Harry said stubbornly, finally lifting his head up to glare at his godfather. “Quit acting like I’m not. You promised, Snuffles, you said we’d do this together.”
“And we are,” Sirius said quickly. “You should just do this part by yourself. Give him a chance to get to know you before you go dragging me into the mess.”
Harry clenched his jaw. He had no intention of getting to know Tony Stark. He was going to ask for help then leave.
That was that.
“And you really can’t come?” Harry asked Sirius one more time.
“This part is just you,” Sirius said. He gave Harry a gentle push toward the security line. “Knock ‘em dead, kiddo. Don’t forget to write.”
Harry grimaced and then forced himself to relax. “Don’t kill any muggles while I’m gone, alright? Twelve was plenty.”
Sirius’ laugh followed Harry through the security line while he desperately wished his godfather would accompany him the entire time.
~~~~~
Harry and Tony ate in near utter silence.
The pizza was good, but Harry was so on edge he could hardly eat more than a few bites.
The ‘brookie’ was amazing though and Harry ate over half of his piece of that.
Tony waited until Harry pushed his plate away from himself to clear his throat and start the interrogation Harry knew was coming.
“I’d need names for the papers,” he said, immediately knocking Harry off-kilter.
“What?” Harry gaped at him and then caught himself and tried to clear the shock off his face. “You’ll do it? You’ll help me?”
“On two conditions.”
Of course.
Nothing came for free.
“What?” Harry sighed.
Tony fidgeted in his seat, and Harry got the impression he wasn’t a man who fidgeted very often.
“One, I’ll need some time to get the documents you need, and I want you to stay here until I get them,” Tony said, sounding rather stern. “It isn’t safe for Tony Stark’s son to go roaming around New York.”
Harry let a bitter smile show; it wasn’t safe to be related to Harry Potter, full stop. “And the second?”
“And… and I’d like it if you kept in contact.”
Harry twisted his lips to the side thoughtfully. Sirius didn’t even know Harry planned on asking for help right off the bat, he thought Harry would ‘let Tony get to know him’ before bringing up any of their problems. So waiting a few days wasn’t an issue, and it wasn’t as if Harry had a place to stay outside of Tony’s obviously roomy flat anyway.
Keeping in contact though? That didn’t exactly scream ‘distant and don’t care’. That whispered ‘attachment’ and attachments were dangerous.
“I can pay you to stay here, and for the papers,” Harry offered instead. “You’ll have to wait until I can get the money from my account though.”
Because Sirius, in all his infinite wisdom, only sent Harry with just enough muggle money to buy a drink on the plane and a taxi from the New York airport to Stark Towers. Harry would have gotten his own money, but since Sirius bought him the next available plane ticket, he didn’t have time to get to Gringotts and back.
“And we can exchange Christmas cards.”
Tony snorted and sent a pointed look around the flat. “Do I look like I need the money?”
Honestly? No. But Harry didn’t like being in his debt either.
“Do I?” Harry asked defiantly.
Tony glanced at his ratty and overly large clothes, but didn’t comment. “I’m supposedly fourteen years behind on child support, don’t worry about it.” He waved his hand airily. “Those are my conditions, kid, take ‘em or leave ‘em.”
“If I leave them?”
Tony grinned and laced his fingers behind his head. “Then I get one of my lazy ass overpaid lawyers to get custody of you established tonight and you move in anyway.”
“I’ll take the conditions,” Harry said quickly, not doubting the determined glint in the man’s eyes that mimicked Harry’s own determination. He couldn’t risk getting stuck there forever, not while Sirius was counting on him. Harry slowly held his hand out to Tony, “Deal?”
“And if you like it here, you stay forever and we try that father son bonding you mentioned earlier,” Tony said in a rush before smiling widely at Harry and grasping his hand. “Deal.”