“Welcome to America.”
Harry groaned the instant he felt himself waking. Everything hurt, something wet was on his cheek, and something sharp was in his ankle… He tried to ignore it, ignore the everything that wanted to yank him from his sleep, just drift off…
“Gerroff,” Harry moaned when something wet and scratchy rubbed across his cheek again and something sharp stabbed his ankle. “Kill me or go away.”
Hoot!
Woof!
Harry jerked upright and saw Joey standing beside where his head had been, his little tail wagging happily, and…
“Hedwig,” Harry breathed. She was smaller, her feathers a different color, but Harry would recognize those yellow eyes and haughty expression anywhere. “Oi! Why’d you peck me?” he grumbled when he realized that her sharp beak had been the thing stabbing his ankle.
Hedwig ruffled her feathers and began a long series of hoots that sounded a lot like complaints. Her complaints only ended when Harry moved Joey to his lap and held his arm out for Hedwig to come perch on him and begin picking at his hair with her beak while he smoothed her wings.
“I missed you too, girl,” he murmured. “Did Sirius treat you okay?”
An especially hard yank of Harry’s hair seemed like a no.
Joey let out a whining yip which caused Hedwig to hoot which caused Harry to sigh.
“What time is it?” He automatically reached over to his nightstand for where he usually left his phone while he slept, but the empty table brought back the night before and everything that happened.
“Oh, god.” Harry’s eyes were wide and he felt sick to his stomach. He’d performed magic in front of muggles, attacked that man, and…
“I jumped,” he whispered, dumbstruck. “I bloody jumped.”
In all of Harry’s wildest fantasies about dying before Voldemort could kill him, dying to escape the little shit life he’d had, he’d never actually done anything before. He’d sat on the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts and think about it. He’d eye the knives in the Dursley’s kitchen and think about it.
It had always been a vague idea, a last resort escape plan, but… but he jumped.
And then smashed into a flying metal man, had an embarrassing meltdown, flew back to Tony’s house, and was sent to bed like a child.
At least smashing into Tony’s Iron Man suit explained why Harry felt so sore.
Harry wriggled around until he could move his phone from his pocket. He tried to click on the screen, but it wouldn’t work. He frowned and plugged it in, waiting for it to light up, and frowned that much harder when it didn’t. He didn’t remember breaking it, but he didn’t use it after he got back to Tony’s either.
“What the hell?” Harry murmured. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, silently cursing in his head as he did, and glanced at the two animals watching his every move. “Can you lot wait five minutes for me to shower before we find you food and go outside?”
Hedwig immediately flew to Harry’s dresser, perched on top of the dark wood, and nestled her head in her wing as an answer. Joey barked, which could mean anything really. Harry saw his bedroom door was still open though, so it wasn’t as if Joey would starve while Harry showered thanks to the bloody expensive feeders Tony bought him.
He glanced out the windows, trying to judge the time based on the current level of brightness, and grimaced when he had no good guess. His phone was his only clock in the room, and he…
Oh.
The robot bloke.
“Er… Jarvis?”
The robot bloke answered immediately, which meant he was always listening, which meant Harry had been talking to Hedwig and Joey in front of an audience apparently.
“Yes, Mister Stark?”
Harry scowled, “Call me Harry. And d’you know what time it is?”
“It is currently four twenty-seven pm, Harry. And your father has requested that I inform you that there is food and ibuprofen in the kitchen that you should help yourself to.”
“Right…” Harry dropped his voice to a whisper, conscious of the open door. “Is he in there?”
“No, Harry. Mister Stark is in his office.”
Harry felt his tense shoulders relax and he rolled them while he tried to remember the odd phrase Tony had used last night. “Is it still… er… P-H-A-T lockdown?”
“Yes, Harry. The only current occupants on this floor are Mister Stark in his office and Mister Hogan in the living room.”
Harry nodded and winced when he stood up; Merlin, he was sore. He felt like he’d just gone ten rounds with Dudley and his gang.
He’d been collecting clothes from his dresser and closet when he had another thought.
“Hey, Jarvis?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“Er… are they mad? Tony or Happy?”
It took Jarvis a moment to answer, and Harry really hoped he wasn’t asking them. Before the silence wore on too long though, Jarvis came back.
“No, Harry. I have assessed their moods based on their facial expressions and have deduced that Mister Stark is hungry and occupied with his thoughts while Mister Hogan is tired and focused on beating level 55 of Pac-Man on his phone.”
Harry let out a surprised laugh at Jarvis’ efficiency and thorough response. “Thank you,” he said genuinely while he moved to the bathroom. “I think we’re going to be mates, Jarvis.”
“Fantastic, Harry. I will begin researching friendship bracelets for humans and ‘robot blokes’.”
Harry laughed again. It seemed like something Tony would do, program his own robot assistant to be as cheeky as he was.
After he showered and inspected himself, he was surprisingly injury free, aside from a small cut and fresh bruise on his forehead, Harry snatched Joey off his bed, squared his shoulders, and stepped out in to the sitting room.
“Morning, kid.” The muggle (Harry hoped he wasn’t hiding any secret powers) bloke that had a row with Harry when he first arrived in New York sat in a recliner directly across from Harry’s bedroom doorway. He was staring down at his screen, but Harry got the distinct impression that he was also looking him over as well.
“It’s almost five,” Harry pointed out dryly.
“God, you sound like your dad,” Happy huffed. He looked up from his phone and saw the dog wriggling in Harry’s arms. “He need to go out again? I let him out a while ago.”
“Seems like it,” Harry said. He made to move toward the lift and paused when he saw Happy standing up and stretching. “I can go by myself,” he told him coolly.
“I figured,” Happy snorted. “But the doors won’t open for you during lockdown and I could use a smoke.”
Harry grit his teeth together and nodded slightly. He didn’t actually enjoy being locked in, even if technically they were locking others out.
The two of them, plus Joey, plus Hedwig who swooped into the lift at the last moment and landed gracefully on Harry’s shoulder, were quiet as they moved down to the lobby and out the back door to the private little backyard where Joey could run. Hedwig took off for the skies the moment they were outside, and Joey began running with all the energy of a puppy, while Harry just sat beneath the single tree and leaned against the trunk.
“How does the bird know where to take mail?” Happy asked after sitting against the tree, close but not too close, and lighting a cigarette.
Harry shrugged and tossed a tennis ball for Joey, suddenly reminded of the letter signed ‘Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Gred, and Forge’ up in his room. “She’s a genius, I suppose.”
Happy chuckled, “What’d you call her? Hedwig?”
Harry hummed and watched Joey chase the ball.
“What’s it mean? Is it French or something?”
“Latin, actually.”
Happy sounded impressed, “Really?”
Harry scoffed, “No.”
“You’d never know you didn’t grow up with Tony around,” Happy said, he didn’t sound annoyed, just amused. “The man’s always had a smartass comment for everything.”
Harry glanced over at Happy and saw that he was toying with a cigarette, not even truly smoking it, merely holding it and flicking it awkwardly.
“How long have you known him?” Harry asked curiously. The others in the tower all obviously met through their antics as heroes, Pepper said she met Tony through their job, but Harry wasn’t sure about Happy.
“Feels like a long ass time,” Happy grinned. He had a friendly enough grin, with little lines around his mouth and crinkles beside his eyes. In fact, when he wasn’t screaming in Harry’s face and threatening to call the police, he was a friendly enough looking bloke.
With the added, and apparently rare, benefit of not being an Avenger.
“We met back in Malibu, I actually saved his life, and then he offered me a job.”
“What?” Harry screwed up his eyes to stared hard at Happy. “You saved his life?”
Happy smirked, “Before he was Iron Man, he was just a brilliant asshole who liked to drive drunk and wreck cars. He got in a wreck, and I happened to see it. I yanked him out before the whole damn thing exploded, and he laid there on the ground, drunk and panting and covered in blood, and you know what he said?”
Harry lifted a brow.
“He said ‘I owe you my life.’ And I said, ‘I don’t want your life, just quit driving like an idiot’ so he told me why don’t I drive him around instead?”
“Like a chauffeur?” Harry asked. “And you just took the job from this bloke you didn’t even know?”
Happy tilted his head back against the tree and laughed loudly. “Kid, everyone knew Tony fucking Stark. And since my life was pretty shit, and Tony seemed like a guy who paid good, I accepted it. We did my hiring paperwork while he was in the hospital and I drove him home. I’ve worked for him ever since.”
“That’s mad,” Harry said. He grabbed the tennis ball that Joey nudged and rolled to him and threw it again, grinning slightly when the little guy ran as fast as he could toward it. “Why was your life shit?”
“You ask a lot of questions for a kid who doesn’t like to talk about himself.”
Harry shrugged, just as content to sit in silence as he was to hear about someone else’s life. Actually… no he wasn’t.
“I’ll tell you one thing if you tell me about your shit life,” Harry said as soon as he realized that silence meant listening to his own thoughts surrounding the MACUSA meeting the next morning.
“Yeah?” Happy turned so he could face Harry. “Alright, deal, kid. Let me think… Oh! I know, what’s your favorite video game?”
Harry blinked at the easy question. He only knew one. “The racing one,” he said slowly. “I’m not very good, but it’s fun to drive fast, I suppose.”
Happy grinned and dug the half-gone, unsmoked, cigarette in the dirt. “You’re definitely Tony’s,” he chuckled. “So I used to be a boxer, right?”
Harry subtly scooted backward. Dudley had been ‘a boxer’ and his favorite punching bag was Harry.
“But I lost every damn fight I entered.”
Oh. That was okay then.
“So just when I was thinking about quitting, getting ‘a real job’, probably with the police department, Tony Stark went and offered me a job? Hell, I was pumped, kid. I knew it might be boring, driving some rich guy’s limo around? But the first night I took Tony out, he hit on some guy’s wife, and the guy comes out, all pissed and huge, and I just stepped in, got him with a right hook, and knocked him out. First fight I won in years, and Tony gave me a raise the next morning after I drove the woman home.”
There… there were so many parts of that story Harry didn’t understand. He focused on the important bit though.
“The woman was married and still went home with Tony?”
Happy raised his brows. “Didn’t he sleep with your married parents?”
“Yes,” Harry scowled at the ground. That was… that was so weird. “You wanted to be a cop?” he asked instead. “Someone—
A death eater in disguise.
—told me I’d be a good cop.”
“Yeah?” Happy caught Joey when the little traitor went and leapt up on his lap. He ruffled Joey’s ears and grinned down at the lovable pup. “I thought about it, figured I might be decent at it, but the thing is, cops are expected to put their lives on the line for everyone, every day. Now, me? I don’t mind to take risks for my friends, for the people I love, but for some random Joe Schmoe? Probably not. Not everyone’s meant to be a hero. Ya know?”
Harry thought about that. Not everyone had to be a hero. In fact, for heroes to even be special, there had to be average people. And Harry had never wanted anything more than to just be normal and average.
“Happy, that’s… that’s oddly inspirational.” Harry cleared his throat, “For a failed boxer turned limo driver, anyway.”
Tony was in the kitchen when Harry, Happy, and Joey got back upstairs, Harry had assured Happy no less than a dozen times that Hedwig would find her way back when she felt like it.
“My favorite son,” Tony cried. He had a white apron on top of his jeans and tshirt. An apron he carelessly wiped his hands off on. “I hope you’re hungry because I’m starving.”
“And cooking?” Happy asked, giving Harry a sideways look as he mouthed the word ‘Run’ as he turned his back to Tony and flopped down on the same recliner he’d been in earlier.
Harry remained in place by the kitchen entrance, shifting from foot to foot. He actually had no idea what kind of changes last night had caused and now it seemed like everything was off-kilter. Was he supposed to apologize? Insist he take off before Voldemort can follow him to Tony’s life? Should he—
“You lose your phone?”
“What?” Harry blinked and shook his head, trying to focus on the current conversation instead of his tangled thoughts. “No, I’ve got it?”
“Huh.” Tony swore suddenly and flicked the stove off, drawing Harry in to see what he was making that had that much smoke coming from the pan. “Macaroni,” Tony explained when he saw Harry standing on tiptoes by the counter trying to see the stove. “I sent you a text to see if you liked it, but it’s not going through. Thought maybe you dropped it last night.”
“No, it’s just…” Harry steeled himself. “It’s broken, I think. I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose and I don’t know what happened and I can pay you back for it—”
“Woah,” Tony held his hands up and shook his head. “Breathe. Why don’t you go grab it, I’ll send Happy out for something edible, and I’ll take a look and see if I can’t fix it?”
Harry felt his neck heat up at his own rant and nodded shortly. He tried to open his bedroom window while he was in there, give Hedwig a place to come back to when she got tired of flying, and frowned when it wouldn’t open.
“Thanks,” Harry muttered when he brought Tony the phone and saw that Happy had already left. “I- I didn’t ask, but… but my owl, Hedwig—”
“Is perfectly welcome to stay,” Tony murmured. He sat at the kitchen bar and pulled a slim case full of tiny tools from his pocket. “Let’s just see here…” he pursed his lips while he flipped the phone around and tried to click it on. “What’s happened to you?”
Harry assumed he was talking to the phone.
“Thanks,” Harry said again. “She likes to fly though, so could you maybe show me how to open my window so she can come back inside? Otherwise she’ll be locked out.”
Tony looked up from the phone to Harry and his eyes were thoughtful. “No,” he said, shocking Harry. “I can’t open your window, kid, no offense, but I’d rather not test the net on this tower by you jumping.”
Harry felt his entire face burn red hot. “I’m not—”
“Aht.” Tony held up a hand, causing Harry to take a step back. “Will she come back inside if we open one of the living room windows?”
Harry glanced toward the wall of windows in the sitting room and shrugged. “Yeah, probably,” he mumbled.
“Perfect. Let me just pop this baby open, see what’s going on here, then I’ll… what the hell?” Tony used one of the tools from the kit he had to pull the back off Harry’s phone, sending out a puff of rancid smelling smoke.
“Did you drop it at all?” Tony asked Harry. He used one of the hook looking tools to pull out what probably used to be a battery but resembled more of something made of melted goo.
“No,” Harry said quickly. “I swear, I didn’t drop it, I just… I…” Harry nearly smacked himself. He did take a shuffling step backward, nearly tripping over Joey who had been sitting by his feet. Harry didn’t even think of it, but… but he’d accidentally apparated with muggle technology right in his pocket. “I’ll pay you back for it,” Harry said nervously. “I think… I think I broke it, last night.”
“How…?” Tony looked up from where he’d been digging in the melted inside pieces of the phone to squint at Harry. “Oh! Magic isn’t good for electronics, is it?”
“Not… not really, no.”
“But…” Tony’s eyes looked glazed as he stared over at the wall. “But if apparation can ruin electronics, why did your stunner not impact any of the household tech? Jarvis!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Full system report.”
Harry fidgeted as there was a buzzing going through the entire flat. How pissed was Tony going to be if Harry’s—
“Wait! You called it apparation?” Harry narrowed his eyes at Tony. “Are you…?”
“Incredibly handsome? Yes. A genius philanthropist? Also yes. In contact with your godfather who misses you and explained magical concepts and history to me this morning? Correct again,” Tony smirked.
“What all did he tell you?” Harry asked. He backed up some more until he could take Happy’s abandoned chair and clenched his hands together on his lap while he stared at Tony.
“Enough for me to be jealous,” Tony quipped. “Hold that glare for a minute, Jarvis! Report?”
Harry scowled down at his lap, actually rather irritated. There wasn’t anything to be jealous about, magic was as much of a burden as it was a gift.
“There appears to be no deficits, sir,” Jarvis said. “Would you like me to run it again?”
“No, thanks.” Tony had a thoughtful and familiar look on his face as he tapped the skinny hook tool to his chin and stared at the wall. “Is it because there’s more tech in here, harder to destroy, or…” Tony glanced down at his chest. “Is it the arc reactor energy? Or is it…”
Harry was bewildered as Tony suddenly leapt to his feet and took off toward his office.
He got to his feet as well and glanced toward where Tony went then decided he had the same look on his face as Hermione did when she ran off to the library. A look like that usually meant a genius at work and Harry would just be in the way. Plus… Plus he should probably actually read the letter from his friends, see what they sent after weeks of silence.
Harry sighed and moved to his room, digging for the letter from his friends that Hedwig brought with her. He grabbed the scroll and moved back to the sitting room, spreading across the sofa, and slowly unrolled it.
H,
If you’re reading this, please, please, write back. We’re all worried sick and terrified. We understand if you felt like taking off was your best option, it probably is, but please, just let us know that you’re alive. Snuffles keeps leaving, trying to find you. Molly cries every time she hears your name. And we’re so scared for you. We aren’t going to try and convince you to do anything you don’t want to do, we just want to know you’re alive. You’re probably furious with us, that this is the first letter we’ve sent, but it wasn’t by our choice and we can explain more another time if you’ll just write back.
Please be alive and safe and able to write.
We love you,
-Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Gred, and Forge
That… that hurt, surprisingly.
It wasn’t that Harry didn’t think that his friends liked him, or missed him, but… but what would have happened if Tony hadn’t caught Harry last night? If Harry died in New York while his friends sat in London and wondered what happened to him.
Harry plucked Joey up from the floor and held him (he was not cuddling his dog) while he reread the letter. He paused at the bit about Sirius leaving the house and snorted; dramatic prat was probably just running around London, stretching his legs, and pretending to look for Harry.
Or, more likely, having more bloody secret meetings and conversations with Tony. Harry had no idea what the two of them were doing, Tony trying to help Sirius clear his name and Sirius telling Tony about magic, but he wasn’t entirely sure he liked it.
Harry sighed and tucked the letter in his pocket. “What d’you think Arsehole, huh? If they didn’t write before now because Dumbledore told them not to, then can I really trust them to not tell him if I write back?”
Joey didn’t respond, because the lazy little pup had fallen asleep.
“I guess we’ll see what happens tomorrow,” Harry mused quietly to himself. “No need to write any letters if I’m just going to prison anyway…”
Harry laid on the couch quietly with Joey for a while until Happy came back with bags loaded with food.
“Where’s your dad?” he asked as he heaved the bags up on the counter.
“Office,” Harry said. He looked at the clock on the fall and realized it was actually about dinner time. “Oi, isn’t it Sunday?” he asked Happy.
“All day long,” Happy chuckled.
“I thought that the others always came up here on Sunday’s for dinner?”
Happy paused as he had been unloading what looked and smelled like burgers and chips from the bags. “Not tonight,” he said, annoyingly vague. “Why don’t you go tell your dad there’s food here?”
“Why not?” Harry asked, ignoring the request that seemed to just be an excuse to end the conversation.
Happy sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not my business, kid, I don’t ask questions. Your dad said that Clint’s being a prick and they weren’t coming up tonight, that’s all I know.”
Harry hummed and gently laid Joey on the floor so he could get up. “I suppose I’ll just ask Tony,” he said.
Except when he walked in Tony’s office, he immediately got sidetracked.
“Okay, but if I send you some tech, can you walk around your house, maybe shoot some spells at it, see what happens? Oh, hold on,” Tony stopped pacing behind his desk and turned to Harry, “what’s up?”
Harry looked at the stacks of books and notes and little pink sticky notes that now covered Tony’s giant desk. “Who are you talking to?” he asked, bewildered.
Tony pointed to a black earbud that Harry hadn’t noticed. “Sirius, you wanna say hi?”
“No,” Harry scowled. Of course Tony would be talking to his new best mate. “Happy said to tell you he’s got food.”
“Excellent, thanks, Harry. Hey, Sirius, listen, I think I’m on to something but I need you to do your part, okay? So just look for a package in the next day or two, try and apparate with it, and then call me. Cool? Alright,” Tony laughed and Harry’s confusion and irritation skyrocketed. “Yeah, I’ll tell him, bye.”
Tony clicked a button on the earbuds and grinned. “Arc energy, Harry, it’s the only difference between the two!”
Harry nodded slowly. “And that’s supposed to mean something to me?”
“It’s why the phone melted but nothing inside the house did,” Tony explained. “Come on, let’s eat and I’ll explain.”
Harry wanted to ask about Sirius, he wanted to ask about Clint, but instead, he listened as Tony discussed different forms of energy with terms that Harry couldn’t begin to hope to follow. It was a decent distraction though, listening to Tony talk. He did a lot of talking with his hands, waving his food around, and he had a fervent light in his eyes as he went on about something that was obviously important to him.
And, since Tony had done nothing but help Harry recently (surprise adoptions notwithstanding), Harry tried to follow along and understand it all.
“So you think because the arc reactors are immune to magic influencing it?” Harry asked curiously when Tony stopped to breathe.
“Exactly, kid!” Tony nodded eagerly. “And now I’m wondering if I can just put on my suit, go find this Voldemort, blow him to pieces, snag the Rat-man, and call it happily ever after.”
Harry choked on his food and struggled to clear his airway for a moment. “What?” he finally gasped after he was able to breathe again. “Bloody hell, what all did Sirius tell you?”
“Everything,” Tony said simply. “And don’t think we won’t be discussing you traveling back in time to fight a werewolf and a bunch of soul-sucking dementors. Do you know the scientific improbabilities of magic? It follows no logic, no laws of the universe, nothing! It’s- it’s insane!”
“It’s freaky,” Harry said bluntly.
“Nah, I think it’s cool,” Happy said. He’d finished eating in record time and had taken up a spot on the sofa, content to play on his phone while Tony talked about energy and electricity and magic. “Makes more sense to just be born magic than building a million dollar super suit to try and mimic it.”
“Hey, I resent that implication,” Tony said, pointing at Happy. “My suit cost way more than a million dollars. And you,” he swung his finger to point at Harry, “as soon as I figure out how to block magic sensors without blocking your magic, I want to see everything you can do.”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “Without a wand? Not a damn thing.”
“So where’s your wand?”
“Sirius has it.”
“Why?”
Harry smacked the table, feeling his anger boiling over at just… just everything. “Why do you care?” he demanded. “Why are you talking to Sirius? Why aren’t you upset that I’m a wizard? Why aren’t you pissed I broke that phone? WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON HERE?!”
Tony didn’t look phased by Harry’s rant, unflappable as always, he just took a long drink from the soda Happy brought with their dinner while he considered Harry thoughtfully.
“Hey, Hap, call it a night,” he called over to Happy.
Happy looked up from his phone. “You sure, boss?”
“Yeah. Oh, hey, open one of those top windows on your way out, will ya? Hedwig needs an open window.”
Happy muttered something about birds and bird-lice as he drug a chair over to the wall of windows and opened a very top one.
Harry sat with his arms crossed, full of irritation and probably irrational anger, while he waited for Happy to leave and Tony to explain what the hell was even happening.
Finally, Happy left and Tony looked at Harry.
“You’ll have to explain what you’re upset about, I’m a genius, not a mind-reader,” he said with a sarcastic grin.
“You’re just- just fine with magic?” Harry asked him. “Nobody normal is ‘fine’ with magic!”
Tony tapped his chest where the glowing reactor laid beneath his shirt. “I’m not exactly ‘normal’, am I? Hell, one of my best friend’s turns into a Hulk when he’s pissed off, what’s a little magic when I’ve seen aliens and met Gods before?”
That… Harry hadn’t actually considered that. Aliens and Gods were a hell of a more ‘unnatural’ than magic.
“What all did Sirius tell you?” Harry asked, changing the subject a bit. “About- about magic, and me, and stuff…?”
“Everything,” Tony said. He stretched his legs beneath the counter, leaning his chair backward, and frowned. “I might know more magical history than I do non-magical, but Sirius is a good storyteller when he wants to be.”
“He told you about Voldemort?” Harry asked.
“Yup.”
“And about me?”
“Yup.”
“Then you’ll be wanting me to leave?” Harry asked, cursing Sirius in his head. Why would he send him away, ensure they couldn’t live together, if he was just going to ruin Harry’s chances of staying where he sent him?
“What?” Tony’s chair hit the floor on all fours and he looked surprised. “Not even a little bit, kid, why would I?”
“Maybe your new best mate forgot to mention it, but the last two people who stood between me and Voldemort are dead,” Harry said flatly. “If he finds me here, he will kill us both.”
Tony didn’t look concerned in the slightest, he waved his hand in an arrogant way. “If he tries, then I’ll just see which is worse- a crazy wizard who tried to kill my kid or the God of Thunder and Magic Hammers. I like Thor’s odds, really, but hey you can place your bets on the crazy wizard if you want.”
“I…” Harry shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “So you know everything and you still don’t want me to leave? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m cursed by being a wonderful parent,” Tony sighed dramatically. “Honestly, kid, I’m hurt that you thought magic and wizards was going to scare me away. Were you ever planning on telling me?”
“No,” Harry said bluntly. “And next time you talk to Sirius, you can tell him I’m pissed that he did.”
“You could tell him yourself,” Tony said cheerfully. “We can replace your phone tomorrow, I can hook it up to the system here, find a way to make it work on the go, then you can call Sirius and he’ll quit whining to me about how much he misses you.”
“That’s assuming I’m not in prison tomorrow,” Harry scoffed. “I did break the law, you see.”
Tony waved that off as well. “I break the law all the time and never go to prison and you won’t either. What d’ya say? If you don’t go to prison tomorrow, which you won’t, will you call him? Let him explain why he sent you here?”
“Tricked me into moving, you mean,” Harry corrected him.
“Tried to protect you,” Tony countered.
“I don’t need protected,” Harry said irritably. “I need- needed… not tricked,” he finished lamely.
“Look,” Tony sighed and leaned on the counter, propping his chin in his hand, “I’m going to be sappier than Happy on Valentine’s Day real quick then we can go do something totally manly like burp and play xbox, okay? But this whole thing you’ve got going on, saying you don’t need anyone, fuck the world, etc, etc, I get it. Hell, you probably get it from me, but Sirius loves you, I care about you, you’ve got friends that miss you, and you’ve got new friends here that care about you. You and I are a family, kid. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me. So let’s just deal with MACUSA tomorrow, replace the phone, call your godfather, and figure out how to be the most perfectly abnormal family to ever exist, alright?”
Harry shifted in his seat, anxious and embarrassed. “You don’t think I’m mad?” he asked as he began ripping tiny shreds of his napkin apart on the counter.
Harry came with an entire suitcase full of problems. And it was as if that suitcase had sprung open last night, exposing everything for Tony to see. The fact that Tony didn’t seem to mind was uncomfortable because either he was entirely mad (a true possibility) or he actually liked Harry, which was uncomfortable to consider.
“Harry,” Tony waited until Harry glanced up at him, “I think if I had been through all the shit you have, I would have jumped off a roof a long time ago. You’re not crazy, you just need some help to get through it. Alright?”
Harry shrugged and clenched his jaw hard, annoyed at the sudden prickling sensation in his eyes.
Tony cleared his throat, ending the awkward silence. “Since it’s Sunday, which means it’s family night, you get to pick; do you want to get your ass kicked on the Xbox again or see why Lord of them Rings is the greatest cinematic masterpiece to ever be released?”
Harry smirked, relieved at the change in topic. “I thought the Breakfast Club was the best movie ever?”
“Top of my list,” Tony said seriously before winking, “but I think you’ll like Gandalf and I need you to tell me if any of it is real because I’ve always wanted to meet a hobbit.”
Harry stayed awake for approximately an hour into the first movie, scowled as poor Frodo Baggins was forced to be some sort of Chosen One by a manipulative wizard with a long white beard, and then promptly fell asleep when Frodo met a little guy that reminded him of Dobby.
Tony finished the first movie, then snagged a couple of blankets, tossing one of Harry and keeping one for himself, before settling back on the couch, perfectly content to sleep out in the living room with his son for the night.
*****
“Can I… can I use your phone real quick?“ Harry asked Tony as they stood outside the building where MACUSA was stationed the next morning. He regret eating even the couple of bites of muffins that Pepper brought them for breakfast as he was certain he was moments away from throwing up right on the sidewalk.
“Sure.” Tony handed him his phone and leaned against the light post. “I’m not letting them take you to prison, you know, so no ‘farewell forever’ texts.”
“Right,” Harry said skeptically. He opened Tony’s messages and typed a quick one to Sirius, just in case.
Miss you, Pads.
“Here.” Harry gave him back his phone and took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. “Let’s get this over with, hmm?”
“Let’s try to be optimistic here,” Tony said as he held the door open for Harry. “If they try and arrest you, then we’ll just run off and you’ll finally get to see Russia.”
Harry looked at Tony’s entirely serious face and felt his upper lip twitch just a bit. “Perfect,” he drawled. “They don’t extradite to the United States either, you know.”
Tony laughed, his laugh echoing around the posh lobby they stepped into. “Smartass,” he said fondly.
Harry tried to hold his smirk as they approached the tall wooden desk with an older woman seated behind it.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Tony greeted the woman with a smile and a wink. “My son and I are here for a meeting with President Quahog?”
“Of course.” The woman batted her lashes at Tony and gave Harry a simpering smile. “He’s been expecting you, if you’ll both just follow me…”
She got down from the desk and led Harry and Tony down a hallway to the left of the lobby. “Right in here, gentlemen.”
She knocked on a large, gleaming, wooden door and smiled at them after someone called ‘Enter’.
“Good luck, gentlemen,” she smiled.
Tony looked down at Harry, “Ready?”
“Nope,” Harry deadpanned as he reached down to open the door.
Tony chuckled and they stepped inside the office together.
The first thing Harry noticed was the giant American flag that hung across the back wall of the office, giving the man sitting at his desk an incredibly odd background. The desk itself was large and had two plain wooden chairs in front of it that Harry assumed they were meant to sit in.
“Mister Harry Potter-Stark and Tony Stark!” The man got up and leaned across the broad desk toward them, offering his hand first to Harry then to Tony. He was… well, he wasn’t what Harry expected. He was tall, for one, and had salt-and-pepper hair brushed neatly on his head above almond-shaped blue eyes. He wore a muggle suit, a simple and black suit, not unlike one Tony had been wearing when Harry first met him, and he had an easy smile on his face as he greeted them.
“Please, sit,” he said after they each shook his hand. “My name is President Quahog and I am delighted to meet you.”
Harry was not delighted to meet him, so he settled for a nod and sat down a second after Tony did.
“I, for one, am thrilled to be here,” Tony said brightly. “I’ve always wondered, is there a secret magical government inside the Manhattan Building, and it seems as if I were right.”
The President fixed Tony with a wide smile. “Well, you’re certainly no stranger to secret government organizations, are you, Mister Stark?”
“No stranger at all,” Tony agreed. “Except, in my experience, those secret governments typically reveal themselves in times of crisis. Not that we’ve had any recent crisis that could have used some magical assistance… Oh, wait,” Tony leaned back in his chair and shook a playful seeming finger at the President, “we did.”
Harry knew Tony was a mad bastard, but Merlin he had bollocks.
The President didn’t seem offended though, he just laced his hands together on his chest and leaned back with an indulgent smile.
“We prefer to not interfere with no-maj wars,” he said. “It’s helpful when we wish to avoid the Salem Witch Trials repeating themselves.”
“Of course,” Tony said, “why help avoid a war if it means risking your safety?”
“Why indeed,” the President agreed. He turned toward Harry, apparently choosing to end the conversation there, and smiled. “Would you care to explain what happened yesterday morning around approximately 0330 to have set off so many bouts of wandless magic?”
Harry glanced at Tony out of the corner of his eye and saw his tiny nod, so he tried to explain in a way that didn’t make him sound like an idiot.
“I, er… I was arguing with this bloke and—”
The President held his hand up for Harry to pause and checked a paper in front of him. “‘This bloke’ meaning Director of SHIELD, Nick J Fury?”
“Yes. Sir,” Harry added quickly. There was a time and a place to be a prat, this wasn’t one of them.
“Understood, go on.”
“Well… I er… I didn’t mean to hurt him, but he was talking—”
“Being incredibly rude in Harry’s own home,” Tony cut in.
“Right,” Harry said slowly. “And it wasn’t on purpose, I just… I just stunned him, I think.”
“Quite so,” the President said. “And then?”
“And then…” Harry tried to remember the details. “I just… I ran and the door was locked and I wanted it to open so I guess it did—”
“I made a poor choice to lock the doors,” Tony interrupted again. “That was on me.”
The President smiled slightly at Tony, more amused than anything, and inclined his head. “Understood. Go on.”
“And then… I was running, trying to get away—”
“From whom?”
“What?”
The President cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on Harry. “From whom were you running from? I understood that Mister Nick Fury was still quite unconscious.”
“Er…” Harry fidgeted, feeling extremely stupid.
“Me again,” Tony said with a grimace. “You might have missed it, as you enjoy hiding from conflict, but my son was kidnapped by a death eater, saw his classmate die, was tied to a tombstone, and forced to participate in a ritual to bring Voldemort back to life before he had to duel for his life. Understandably, there’s some lingering PTSD there. It was another poor decision on my part to chase him.”
There was nothing weirder than hearing Tony talk about Voldemort and death eaters. The shock of those words coming from his mouth actually covered the pang of remorse at hearing about Cedric’s death again so casually.
“Gentlemen,” the President was definitely amused now as he looked between where Harry was picking at his nails and where Tony was sitting back entirely at ease, “I believe there’s a misunderstanding here we should clear away. Mister Potter-Stark is not in trouble for accidental magic, there is no need for the defensive measures. We rarely see cases of accidental, wandless, magic that did not happen due to extreme duress. And, as Mister Stark is important to the no-maj world, Mister Potter-Stark is important to ours. It would be remiss of me to not ensure that Mister Potter-Stark is safe within his home.”
Harry’s jaw actually dropped. “But… but I did magic? Underage magic in front of muggles?”
“Accidental magic under psychological duress,” the President waved an airy hand. “And, as Mr Fury is already aware of our existence and Mister Stark is your father, you did not violate the Statute of Secrecy either.”
Harry blinked and felt caught off-guard. “I’m- I’m not in trouble?” He’d been so certain that he was going to be arrested, sent to prison.
“Certainly not,” the President said. “I do apologize if you thought you were. I oftentimes forget how strict the British can be.”
“Wonderful,” Tony said brightly while Harry sat there, gobsmacked. “So then we’ll just get going!”
“Actually, there is another concern I would like to speak with you both about,” the President said, causing Harry to snap his jaw shut as surely his punishment was about to happen. “I have received a letter from Minister Fudge, informing me that as of Saturday, June 18th, at 0600, Harry Potter was reported as a missing person. If he is found, the British Ministry of Magic require that he be returned to England.”
“It would be difficult to do that, considering Harry is my legal, biological son,” Tony said. “I’m sure you’re aware that it’s actually illegal to kidnap a child.”
“Truly, Mister Stark, I wonder why you think I would stoop to such lows?” The President shook his head and kept up his polite smile. “As you’re no doubt aware, I am a professional.”
“I’m aware of a lot of things,” Tony said with his own polite smile. “I’m aware that you have a muggle parent, you went to Yale, not as impressive as MIT, but respectable, you have weekly meetings with Barrack—”
“Barrack?” Harry asked, cringing under the sudden stares of the two men.
Tony leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other knee. He winked at Harry, “Old golfing buddy of mine, President of the muggle US. If you think I brag, you should hear him after nine rounds.”
Riiiight.
Tony looked back at President Quahog and Harry realized this must be how Tony runs his business too. It didn’t matter that the President was the one who set up the meeting and sat behind the desk, Tony was controlling it. He controlled it with his casual posture, his easy jokes that carried some sort of weight to them, and the way he looked just slightly condescendingly amused by everything the other man said.
“Anyway, the point was that I don’t think you can just deport my son without Barrack having a problem with it,” Tony told the President. “I can call him though,” Tony pulled out his phone and pulled up an image hovering in the air of himself with a dark skinned man with a golf club, “we can see what he thinks about the illegal deportation of a minor American citizen.”
“Mister Stark,” the President leaned his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers beneath his chin, “you misunderstand me once more. I said that the British Ministry of Magic is searching for Harry Potter and would like for us to inform them if we find him in our country.”
Harry slumped in his seat, ducking his head and wishing he were invisible.
“Aah.” Tony didn’t sound bothered, which actually made sense, because it didn’t make sense for Tony to even want Harry to stay in the first place.
“Well, if my son or I see this elusive, and probably rather handsome, ‘Harry Potter’, I will personally call your cell. You do have a cell, right? Because the British wizards are still using sheepskin parchment, which is both disgusting and more outdated than my buddy Steve.”
Harry’s head snapped up at the President’s soft chuckle. “What?” he blurted out, feeling dim. “Er… you’re going to lie to Minister Fudge for me?”
President Quahog fixed Harry with a polite smile. “Certainly not. I would never lie to my delightful, if tacky, British counterpart. I told him if I found Harry Potter that I would tell him, and I will.”
Harry didn’t want to look away from the man who was going to sail him back across the ocean, but for someone who spent so much time acting like he didn’t want Harry to leave, Tony wasn’t even pretending to care now.
“Kid,” Tony smirked at him, “got your wallet?”
Harry kept his eye on Tony as he slowly pulled the slim black billfold from his pocket that Tony got him when he bought Harry clothes.
“You have your ID in there?”
“Yeah?”
“Read it out loud for the class,” Tony said airily. He raised his brows and held his smirk as Harry pulled the little plastic card from his wallet.
Glancing quickly at the President, Harry looked down at the card that had his name, photo, and Tony’s address on it.
“Harry James Potter-Stark, 200 Park Avenue, Manhattan, New York City—”
“Precisely, Mister Potter-Stark,” the President interrupted him in a warm and friendly tone, as if they were two friends sharing a joke. “I can tell Minister Fudge, with a clear conscious, that I have not seen hide nor hair of Mister Potter. It is unfortunate, but perhaps he simply isn’t in our country.”
Harry’s jaw practically hit his chest as he clutched what was apparently a lifeline in his hand. “You- you’d do that for me, sir?”
“Harry, may I call you Harry?”
Harry nodded dumbly. If he wasn’t sending him back to England to die at the hands of Voldemort, he could call him ‘boy’ for all Harry cared.
“Harry, we Americans have never been known to take orders from the British.” The President held his hand out across the desk to Harry once more, “Welcome to America, home of the free, land of the stubborn.”
“Amen,” Tony said solemnly as an incredibly bewildered Harry shook hands with the President of MACUSA once more.