“Showtime.”
“Jarvis, are we recording?”
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said promptly. A glowing red light in the corner of Tony’s glasses when he looked in the mirror confirmed his words.
Tony ran a hand over his hair, straightened the tie he rarely bothered to wear with his nicest suit, and plastered a smile on his face.
“Showtime.”
Tony stepped from behind the curtain to the impromptu stage that had been erected to hear the new owner of Grunnings Drill Company speak to the employees. It wasn’t a huge company, by any means. Perhaps 250 employees total, including the current directors.
Tony let his eyes sweep across them all as they clapped politely for him until he found the man of the hour.
There.
Vernon Dursley. He looked similar enough to his drivers license photo that Tony had no difficulties in identifying the man. It helped that he stood nearly as wide as he did tall, with a ridiculous bushy blonde mustache that took up most of his face and hid his upper lip. He stood with his legs wide, probably to support his weight, and pulled on his suspenders with the air of a man who thinks he’s much more important than he was.
Time to put that notion to rest.
“Thank you,” Tony called out, his voice carrying easily through the warehouse they assembled in for the meeting. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Tony Stark, the new owner of Grunnings.”
There were the obligatory chuckles, very few people who didn’t spend their time at some anti-electronic cult of a castle were unaware of who Tony Stark was.
“And since I’ve got plans with my son in a few hours, I’ll keep this short,” Tony said pleasantly. He waited a beat to make sure he had their complete attention before continuing. “I trust everyone likes their recent raises? The plans for expansions? The lifts on commissary caps?”
The claps were louder that time, even a few whistles, and Tony smiled at them. Purchasing Grunnings wasn’t a horrible investment, not really. They had potential to grow, and with Stark Industries pairing with them, they’d be the next top tool brand.
“You might be wondering why I bought this little family owned business. Why not Dewalt or Milwaukee? I’ll tell you,” Tony pointed at Dursley, “that man right there gave me the inspiration to buy Grunnings Drill Company.”
Dursley looked surprised and startled to be singled out, then he looked smug as his coworkers began clapping for him and shooting him appreciative looks.
Tony let him bask in the limelight for a moment, even clapping his own hands together a few times, before moving in.
“And we’ve never met before,” Tony said to the others. “Imagine that, I bought an entire company for a man I’ve never met face to face, wild, right? My business director was stunned. But just like family is important to the Grunnings, who are relaxing in Hawaii now I believe, it’s important to me too.”
Tony laughed, a forced and fake laugh, but charming nonetheless. “I never even introduced my son, did I? See, here’s the thing, I didn’t know I had a son for a while…” his eyes met Dursley’s and his smile turned sharp as Dursley lost a few shades of color in his cheeks.
Hopefully he was thinking of that NDA and relinquishing of his legal guardianship for a certain kid a couple of weeks ago.
“And, like any proud papa, I have a photo.” Tony clicked a button on his watch and let a photo he took of Harry shine in the air. It was a good photo too, Harry had been sitting on the beach with the sun shining on his wet hair, his eyes lit up and his mouth spread in a laugh as Sirius paddled in the ocean as a dog.
Tony didn’t look at the picture though, he watched Vernon Dursley. He watched as his face turned colors so quickly that someone else might worry for his health. Tony only worried that he’d drop dead before he had a chance to wreck havoc in his life.
Surprisingly, a few people glanced from the photo of Harry on display to Dursley. Apparently Harry wasn’t as much of a hidden relation as he had wished to make him.
“Yep, that’s my boy,” Tony said, actual pride lacing his tone. “Good kid too, you should meet him, he’s practically magical.”
A full body twitch from Dursley. The man beside him with the goatee and tweed suit inched away.
Fun.
“And the more I talked with him, the more I realized that sometimes there are disgusting pieces of human waste in this world,” Tony said thoughtfully. “So it made think of the best way to vanish waste, and you know what? I started with a full audit for all my companies.”
Tony stared directly at Dursley with a challenging and cold look. A look that promised retaliation for every single thing he said to his son, every night he made him sleep in a closet, and every time he raised his hand to his kid and made him feel unloved and unsafe.
Something unfurled in Tony’s stomach, something he typically worked to push down, but relished in it this once. It was a possessive sort of satisfaction in knowing the he was about to hurt someone who hurt someone he cared about. He was going to dress it up, call it justice, but it was just revenge.
And he wanted Dursley to know it.
“Vernon Dursley has been skimming money from the books for years,” Tony lied easily. “He’s been overcharging customers, pocketing the extra from both customers and commissions.”
There wasn’t any dramatic sounds of surprise, but there were a lot of heated looks at the incredibly purple-faced man who’s chin was touching his chest as he gaped at Tony in pure shock.
Checkmate, you dick.
“I have not!” Dursley roared once he managed to move his jaw again. He looked toward where the directors stood and jabbed a finger at Tony on the stage. “He is lying!”
Tony was, but the paperwork and audit would look like he wasn’t. And the Grunning’s lawyers would go after Dursley hard and every piece of property he owned, every cent he had in his account, and every bit of his savings would be up for grabs when they went back twenty-five years and saw the ‘theft’ Dursley committed.
Once Dursley was penniless, drug through the courts, trashed in the papers, then Tony would find a way to ensure he knew that he should have given his son a god damned bed to sleep in.
The directors looked at Tony, their brows raised in obvious ‘what do we do here?’ positions, and Tony waved his hand toward Dursley. “Arrest him,” he said. He waited until security began moving toward Dursley to add his final remark, “You’re fired, by the way.”
Dursley allowed himself to be led from the warehouse to the exit, shouting and sputtering all the while about how this was a mistake, he was a good employee, blah blah blah.
All true, honestly. Vernon Dursley was the top selling salesman with the highest records that Grunnings had ever seen. The company might even take a hit if his contracts declined to renew with a new salesman.
Tony would burn the building to ashes without insurance though if it meant getting even a small amount of justice for his kid.
“Well, with that taken care of…” Tony clapped his hands together and silenced the whispered conversations over the new development. “I decided to add another 5% to your raises for incredibly important reasons I can’t be bothered to explain. Now, I think Jennings, Roalds, and Watson have a meeting to get to over charges to press, lawsuits to file, all that boring stuff. The rest of you should take the day off.” Tony touched two fingers to his temple and swung his arm out in a mimic of a salute, “Make me proud.”
There was more applause, more genuine applause anyway, as Tony stepped off the stage and had a quick chat with the lawyer and directors he had singled out. He encouraged them to run an audit, see the damage for themselves, and then begin going after Dursley for every pound that it appeared as if he stole. And if they did their job properly, went back from the first sale Vernon Dursley ever made, they were going to end up with his house, his cars, his entire boring little middle-class life in their hands.
Nearly two million pounds was going to be a struggle for Dursley to pay back, but that was really his problem, not Tony’s.
Tony’s only problem was catching a flight back to New York in time to chat with his kid about the upcoming school year. Oh, and sending Sirius the video of Dursley being fired.
He sent the video from the plane, even attached a caption of ‘Step One’ with a few of the random emojis that Sirius preferred to communicate with. About midway through the flight, Tony got back a shooting star and a palm tree.
He really expected more from Sirius when he brought up the Dursley situation over the weekend. What use was killing someone when you could destroy their life instead? Wizards were hideously behind on times.
Tony had his tie off before he disembarked the plane and his jacket hit the floor almost the instant he entered his place.
“Greetings, favorite son, favorite future wife,” Tony called to Harry and Pepper. The two of them were sitting on the floor of the living room, papers and brightly colored brochures spread across the coffee table. Harry had his eyebrows pinched together, causing his forehead to crinkle, and Pepper’s teal eyes were sparkling with laughter. Tony felt an unexpected wave of fondness wash over him as he looked at them; it was odd, it was messy, but they were his home. And damn if it didn’t feel good to be home.
“Did I miss dinner?” Tony asked hopefully, looking around for any signs of food.
“You actually missed an excellent dinner,” Pepper said. She smiled at Harry, causing the kid to lose a single wrinkle in his forehead, before turning to Tony. “Did you know Harry can cook?”
“I can’t, actually,” Harry said quickly. He busied himself with stacking up the brochures for what seemed like every high school in the state. He shot Tony a quick look, hints of distrust still present in his eyes. “Pepper did all the work, I only saved the sauce.”
Tony flopped in the chair behind Pepper and plucked one of the pamphlets from the coffee table to look over. It was for a private prep school, York Prep School, and looked like the kind of place that Tony would have hated and he was sure Harry would as well.
“Harry’s being modest,” Pepper said warmly. She pushed a pamphlet toward Tony, a blue and yellow one that proudly stated ‘Midtown School of Science and Technology’ in big block letters across the front.
“I tried making chicken Parmesan, since it seemed simple enough when my dad used to make it, and Harry could smell I was ruining it clear from his bedroom.”
Tony watched Harry subtly over the top of the Midtown pamphlet and saw he looked torn between being pleased at Pepper’s praise, as the adorable little pink splotches on his cheeks indicated, or irritated by it, as the heavy rolling of his eyes indicated.
“Beginners luck,” Harry said firmly, apparently wanting to close the subject. “Also, I don’t know algebra, and I can’t go to school with these…” he flapped his hand at the pamphlets, mimicking Tony’s favorite move of disdain, “These genius kids. They’re going to think I’m an idiot.”
Tony scoffed and tossed the Midtown pamphlet back on the table. “You’re a wizard, so where’s the wizard school pamphlets? Surely there’s more than one in the world?”
Harry pulled a golden brochure from the bottom of the stack and slid it across the table, avoiding eye contact all the while. “It’s in Massachusetts,” he said, quietly and snark free. “Hedwig brought me that this weekend, from the President, I guess. I- I think I’m accepted if I want to go.”
The famous hero of England that the wizard President of America went out on a limb to protect? Yeah, Tony wasn’t exactly falling over in shock that he had a place at the American wizard school.
Tony looked it over, nodding in approval that it had been founded by a ‘no-maj’, meaning it had to be less archaic than Hogwarts, and winced at the blatant description of a boarding school lifestyle. Call it paranoia, but Tony would feel better if his son lived at home, where it was safe, rather than at a school full of kids with magic. One of them could lose control, then it would be Tony’s son flying across a room and falling unconscious, or worse. But… but Harry was a wizard and telling him he couldn’t train to be a wizard would have been like telling Tony he couldn’t study robotics or engineering.
The last thing Tony wanted to do was hold his kid back.
“So what are we thinking here?” Tony asked. He grabbed the pamphlet for Midtown, York, and Illvermony and held them up. “Any ideas?”
“It’s going to be bloody terrible any way it goes,” Harry said irritably. “One place I’m an idiot, one place I’m the Boy-Who-Lived, and one place—”
“Where you have friends and can be tutored to catch up to their level,” Pepper cut in. And man, she sounded like such a mom too. All firm and supportive, it was distractingly hot. “This is a big decision, Harry, and we’ll support you no matter what. Plus,” she grinned and plucked the Midtown pamphlet from Tony, “I bet I know a certain cute boy who wouldn’t mind tutoring you if you chose Midtown.”
“You’re absolutely right, Pep,” Tony nodded while Harry turned a dark shade of red. “Sure, people think Cap doesn’t understand modern mathematics, but really I think he’s a genius in disguise.”
Harry’s blush disappeared and he even gave Tony a friendly, if small, grin. “Yeah? Suppose Bruce is all about science then?”
“Doctor Banner?” Tony scoffed and relaxed back in his seat. “Kid, you might have missed it with his glasses and whole Hulk bit, but Bruce is a poet at heart. He can quote Robert Frost in a way that leaves you heart broken and contemplative for weeks.”
Harry’s grin slowly slipped away at whatever new mistake Tony made.
“I don’t know who that is,” he said quietly. He fingered the Midtown pamphlet and a flash of longing flitted across his face before he pushed it away.
Pepper gave Tony a ‘fix this, now,’ look before getting up and stretching her back. “Tony, you want some dinner? I’ll heat you up a plate.”
“You’re a goddess,” Tony told her truthfully, waiting until she walked off to attempt to resolve whatever insecurity was plaguing his son. “Kid, nobody really knows Robert Frost, he’s just another dead poet.”
“They know math and science and fucking chemistry though,” Harry scowled. He looked at the neat stack of brochures and Tony thought he looked like he wanted to catch them all on fire.
“Do they know potions or transforming spells? No,” Tony said with conviction. He tried out one of Pepper’s warm smiles when Harry looked up at him from his seat on the floor, but the kid looked mildly confused so Tony figured it didn’t look as encouraging when he did it.
“You can learn math and science and all that, hell kid, I can teach you everything you need to know. Those kids can’t learn magic. They could wave a wand around and never do a single thing. So, it’s up to you, if you want to focus on magic, we’ll do Illvermony. If you want to go to school with your geek, we’ll do Midtown. If you want to meet some of the future social snobs that used to throw the best parties in the city, then we’ll do York. I don’t care where you go to school, but don’t let something pointless like current skill level stop you from going where you want.”
Instead of perking up, as was the entire point of Tony’s extremely motivational pep talk, the kid looked more downtrodden than before.
“You might have missed this, along with every other thing in my life—”
As if it was Tony’s fault. The kid was a riot.
“—but I’m not actually some miniature genius,” Harry said, his voice as warm as Steve was during his long nap. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Harry said it like a shit, and his arms were tense as they held his torso up on the floor, but… but Tony actually thought he did look a little sorry, as if Tony could be disappointed in him, which was stupid and he would happily tell him that.
“Saved a ridiculously over powered stone from a maniac.”
Harry’s glare somehow deepened. “Pardon?”
“Saved a little girl from dying by putting a sword through a basilisk.”
“You don’t even know what that is.”
Tony raised his voice, “Saved your godfather from having his soul stolen. Saved him from prison. Rescued some redhead kid from possibly murderous mermaids. And escaped from an actually murderous sociopath.”
“SHUT UP!” Harry jumped to his feet, his chest heaving and his eyes misty looking. Tony heard Pepper drop something in the kitchen and hoped she stayed in there.
“YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!” Harry yelled. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging the ends harshly and glared at Tony harshly. “You heard Sirius talk about things he wasn’t even there for and you think it’s got anything to do with skill? That was luck,” Harry spat, his face twisting up angrily. “It wasn’t me being clever or quick, I was just bloody lucky.”
Tony waited, making sure he had nothing else to add, then went on.
“Flew on an airplane. Traveled to a new country alone. Went to a party with people you didn’t know. Made friends. Adopted a dog and spoiled the shit out of. Drove a motorcycle—”
Tony heard Pepper swear in the kitchen, but he didn’t worry about that just then. That was future Tony’s problem.
“Reconciled with your godfather. Kicked Nick Fury’s ass. And woke up this morning and began making plans for the future.”
Harry’s breathing had slowed somewhere around ‘adopted a dog’ and his little angry face was more wary than anything by the time Tony finished his list.
“All those things? You did them,” Tony said calmly, staring evenly up at the kid now. “You think I’m disappointed you don’t know the formula for pi? Who cares? Those other parents, the ones with the super lame ‘my kid’s on honor roll’ bumper stickers have no idea what it’s like having a kid who’s done so much in such a short time.”
Tony mentally chanted the words he really needed to say, four easy little words that he certainly never heard from his dad, but Harry seemed to need to hear from him.
Four words. Easy.
So easy.
Harry stared at him, Tony stared back.
Four words.
“I’mproudofyou,” Tony said in a rush, causing Harry to rear back and actually take a step further from where Tony sat in his chair. Tony cleared his throat, refusing to do something as plebeian as blush, and tried again. “I’m proud of you for all the things you’ve done,” he said slowly, enunciating clearly so there was no misunderstanding between them.
“The big stuff, the ‘lucky stuff’, and the things that you might think are little, but aren’t actually. You traveled to a new country without a cell phone, kid. I won’t take a leak in a bar without mine on me, that takes guts and has nothing to do with luck. So don’t think I give a damn about if you go to Midtown and flunk out, which you won’t, by the way, because school is literally the least important factor to judge a person on.
“In fact,” Tony smiled brightly, “you should just be homeschooled. We can get Sirius to teach magic stuff, I’ll do the muggle stuff, we can get Pepper to dress in a naughty teacher outfit, it’ll be great!”
Harry’s tense posture seemed to sag, his shoulders slumped and he actually looked shocked, as if Tony had struck him across the face. Then, apropos of nothing, he looked disgusted as he scrunched his nose up.
“Sirius is half-mad and I’d rather not see Pepper in a ‘naughty teacher outfit’,” he said. He sounded normal again, snarky and dry, just the way Tony liked him.
Pepper chose that moment to make her grand re-entrance, a plate of food that smelled heavenly in her hands. “We can put your dad in detention for the rest of his life,” she said with a dirty look aimed at Tony before contradicting her mean words by carefully handing him the hot plate. Pepper sat on the sofa while Tony made love to what was probably the first home cooked dinner he’d had in months with his eyes.
“Whatever school you want to attend will be lucky to have you,” she told Harry. “You’ve got time to decide. If you want to go to Midtown, just let us know and we can start finding tutors.”
“Er… right.” Harry glanced down at the table then quickly snagged the stack of pamphlets. He shifted uneasily as he looked at them. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome, I guess,” she grinned.
Harry retreated to his bedroom quickly after a mumbled ‘good night’, the pamphlets in hand and his loyal dog following behind him. Pepper waited until his door closed to swat Tony’s arm.
“You’re a moron, Tony Stark,” she said, no real heat to her voice. She rolled her eyes while Tony took a hesitant bite of his food. “‘Naughty teacher outfit’, he is fourteen!”
“Almost fifteen,” Tony corrected her. He closed his eyes and let out a nearly indecent noise. “Forget magic or science, let’s send the kid to culinary school.”
Pepper sighed, a soft and sad little sound. “I don’t think he likes to cook, actually. I thought he did, because he was so good at it, but he mentioned cooking a lot for ‘his relatives’,” Tony loved when she did the sarcastic finger quotes, “and he was in a rush to get out of the kitchen as soon as he saved me from ruining the food.”
“In that case, I’m hoping for Midtown,” Tony said truthfully. “Also, remind me to send you the video of firing Dursley for theft.”
Pepper leaned on the armrest of the couch, the brightness of her eyes another thing Tony loved about her. “Was he stealing?” she asked in a whisper.
Tony smirked, “Not a dime.”
Pepper laughed while Tony took another few bites of the best damn chicken parm he ever tasted.
“Hey, Tony?”
“Hmm?”
Pepper smirked and batted her eyelashes. “I’mproudofyou,” she said in a quiet rush of breath, mocking Tony’s genuine attempt at sounding like a parent.
Tony rolled his eyes that time and tried to stab her arm with his fork. “Laugh all you want, Miss Potts, but I’m beginning to think the Internet had it all wrong. Parenting is god damned hard.”
Pepper quit laughing, though she still smiled sweetly at him. “I was teasing, but…” She leaned over the armrest and pecked Tony quickly on the cheek. “I am proud of you,” she murmured.
Tony was glad he had said it to the kid, because he didn’t realize until then how nice that was to hear.