“You are a LIAR!”
“And I don’t even know what a terrorist is, but I know it’s not Spider-Bloke! He’s a good listener and I feel like I can tell him anything, you know? Sort of like I’m supposed to do with you. Except now it’s suddenly all ‘oh, Harry, don’t hang out with anyone who I don’t like, no you can’t be nice to a sick bloke just because he killed someone’, even though Tony did all those things too! Look at Psycho, they’re best mates! Or, they were, but now she’s trying to help Bucky and he can’t see that! PLUS Tony calls her and Clint assassins, but they can hang around and shake the hell out of me and Bucky can’t even walk down the fucking sidewalk? It’s bullshit!”
Harry’s ‘therapist’, a quiet older bloke named Michael, hummed and nodded behind his desk, watching while Harry paced his office and ranted.
“Why do you think that Bucky is a ‘sick bloke’ instead of a dangerous assassin as your father said?” he asked Harry calmly.
Harry threw his hands up and kept pacing from bookcase to door, over and over. “Why can’t he be both? They said he was brainwashed, which is like the imperio curse, right?”
“What’s the imperio curse?” Michael asked Harry curiously.
It was almost funny, talking magic with a muggle inside a posh office decorated with degrees and heavy books on shelves. Harry didn’t think he’d like ‘Michael Morris’ much, but then Tony had him sign an entire bloody stack of papers with ‘confidentiality clauses’. Then suddenly Harry had a therapist who knew about magic, but only because he thought Harry was an ‘enhanced individual’ who went to a school for other ‘enhanced individuals’.
It helped some that there was plenty of video footage of Sirius and Wanda using magic on all the different news channels, so calling them all ‘enhanced’ didn’t mean that much for the Statue of Secrecy.
As soon as Harry was free to speak freely, it was like a damn burst and Harry started telling the muggle his entire life story.
And now Harry had some middle aged bloke with a bald head and glasses listening to Harry talk every week, but sometimes he had decent advice.
“The imperio is a spell that controls a persons mind,” Harry told Michael while he kept pacing. “And I looked up brainwashing, it’s like being under the imperio, and HYDRA sounds like the death eaters, so it’s like Bucky was imperio’d by death eaters and nobody wants to help him, they just want to throw him in jail!”
“I think it takes a great deal of compassion on your part to see Bucky as a victim rather than a perpetrator.”
Harry scoffed irritably, feeling like Michael was missing the entire point.
“Bucky’s face is all over the news,” Harry said, pointing a finger at the blank telly hanging on the wall in the corner. “What’s the point of having a dad if he won’t listen to me and a godfather who’s leading the charge against my friend?”
Michael nodded again - he was a big fan of nodding - and wrote something down in the notebook Harry pretended didn’t exist. If Harry knew there was a notebook filled with notes about him, then he’d be annoyed and everything would be ruined, so it was better if Harry just pretended it wasn’t there.
“Are you more concerned with Bucky being controlled against his will or that you feel as if your voice isn’t being heard?” Michael asked.
Harry paused in his pacing to shoot a long look at Michael while he played with the question in his head. If Harry was only concerned with the first part, then he was an idiot. If Harry was only worried about the second part, then he was a piece of shit.
“Both,” Harry finally said confidently. He moved to sit in the comfortable black leather chair across from Michael’s chair and grabbed one of the spinning things off his desk to toy with while they talked. Harry pinched the silver circle with his thumb and middle finger and used his index finger to spin the red blades around and around.
“Throwing Bucky in jail for things he did brainwashed would be like throwing me in Azkaban if someone imperio’d me to kill someone else,” Harry said. “And why shouldn’t I get a say in what happens with Bucky and Spider-Bloke? They’re my friends.”
Michael smiled slightly as he smoothed down his sparse grey mustache. “Do you want my opinion or are you using this time to get all your thoughts out?”
Harry stared deadpan at Michael while he kept spinning the little gadget. “What are you getting paid for?”
“Some of both,” Michael said with an agreeable nod of his head. He adjusted his wire-framed glasses and thought for a moment. “I believe that you have spent so long as an independent party- one who was pushed in dangerous situations and treated as an adult in those situations, that it is currently inconceivable to you to have an adult watching for your best interests and laying down boundaries for you.”
“I’ve always had boundaries,” Harry sneered. “‘Stay in the cupboard, don’t speak, pretend you don’t exist’.”
“Those were not reasonable boundaries, those were ways that you were abused,” Michael said, instantly pissing Harry off.
Abuse was… was something sick and shameful and made Harry feel like his boiling blood was cooled with freezing cold ice water.
Harry’s finger moved even quicker, spinning the dumb thing around as quick as he could. “I wasn’t abused,” he said as calmly as he could. “Quit saying that.”
“Alright,” Michael agreed easily, as he always did when Harry shut down certain topics. “Let’s look at other boundaries you had. You were at your school for enhanced students, correct? Now, tell me, what did you do when you were told to stay out of the wing of the school that had the Cerberus in it?”
Harry almost smiled to hear a muggle talking about Fluffy. He only didn’t, because he was scowling.
“That’s different,” Harry insisted. “I know what you’re going to say, that I can’t follow rules, right? But I can when they make sense.”
“Excellent.” Michael made a note on the invisible notebook and then put his templed fingers to his chin while he watched Harry. “Name me some.”
Harry blinked at him incredulously, surely he was kidding.
“You want me to name every rule I’ve ever followed?” Harry asked.
“No,” Michael chuckled quietly. “That would be rather pointless to have you list every time you never jaywalked. What I mean is for you to think back on all the times you were specifically told a directive - whether for or against something - and you followed it.”
“I—” Harry opened his mouth and then snapped his mouth shut. “Once—” No, not that either…
“Give me a minute,” Harry grumbled to Michael.
‘Don’t take your broomstick off the ground…’
‘Don’t go in the third floor corridor…’
‘Don’t be out after curfew or smuggle illegal dragons…’
‘Don’t tell anyone you’re a Parslemouth…’
‘Don’t go in the Chamber…’
‘Don’t sneak in Hogsmeade…’
‘Don’t confront Sirius Black…’
“Aha!” Harry punched a fist in the air victoriously. “Alright, Dumbledore sort of told me to use the time turner with Hermione to go back in time and save Sirius and Buckbeak!”
“Who is Buckbeak?” Michael asked, flipping through his notebook that didn’t exist.
“A hippogriff.”
“And what’s a hippogriff?”
“Er… so it looks like a half eagle, half horse, thing.”
Michael put the notebook back on his desk and made a quick note before looking up at Harry. “Okay, so when you did follow an order, it was when an adult was depending on you to correct a situation that he found dangerous?”
Harry sighed and glanced at the clock on the desk, mentally rejoicing that he only had fifteen minutes left as he was sure he knew where the conversation was headed.
“Sounds about right,” Harry said tiredly. “I suppose you don’t want me to tell you that I also listened to Moody, the death eater in disguise, when he guided me through the tournament that ended in Cedric dying and Voldemort being reborn?”
Harry had to work especially hard to ignore Michael’s notebook when his pen began flying across it quick enough that smoke should be flowing upward.
“On the contrary, Harry, I would very much like to hear more about that.”
By the end of the session, it seemed like Michael was trying to say that Harry was a child who couldn’t follow orders ‘made for his safety’. So… it wasn’t as if the bloke was always perfect.
Harry and Tony’s flat was empty and quiet when Harry got back from therapy, and Harry jumped at the chance to take Joey for a walk without being bothered about his safety.
“C’mon, Arsehole,” Harry said quietly, clipping Joey’s leash on him before pulling on his coat. “Let’s go see if we can find our friends, huh, buddy?”
Joey barked loud enough to wake Hedwig up from her perch, earning himself an angry hoot.
“Quick,” Harry said, urging Joey on before Tony got back from whatever was keeping him. Happy always drove Harry from school straight to therapy on Friday’s and normally Tony was home by the time Harry got back, but Harry wasn’t going to complain then.
Just because Harry won the disagreement on him being tailed inside school didn’t mean Harry thought he’d win any other disagreements.
Harry probably looked paranoid when he slipped outside, a bag of supplies over his shoulder, as he shot looks from left to right and behind him to make sure he wasn’t being followed.
If Harry wanted Bucky to not get captured, he needed money and food and probably medicine. Harry just hoped the cash he had saved for an emergency, the cereal and crisps in the cabinet, and a bottle of Tylenol were at least a good place to start.
“How do we find a stalker?” Harry murmured to Joey while they traveled further from the tower. “Do we just say ‘come out, come out, wherever you are’?”
“Depends on who you’re looking for.”
Harry jolted when Spider-Bloke jumped down from a rooftop to do a flip land on his feet just in front of him.
“As happy as I am to see you,” Harry rolled his eyes so Spider-Bloke didn’t think he was entirely serious (even if he was), “I’m actually looking for Bucky today.”
“Why, why, are you going looking for the wanted assassin?” Spider-Bloke asked Harry as he fell in step beside Harry.
Harry wasn’t sure where Bucky would be, but he was hoping to find him somehow. He used to reliably be hanging around wherever Harry was, but it seemed like Spider-Bloke scared him off; and the recent news probably didn’t help any either.
“Reward money of course,” Harry said with a smirk. “I’m going to get the money, buy my own fancy jet, and then my team of Anti-Avengers can make their first mission breaking Bucky out of jail.”
Spider-Bloke laughed, and Harry rather liked his laugh. It was cheery and warm, but a bit deep and felt familiar.
“I don’t know that you’ll find a jet for $500,000,” Spider-Bloke told Harry while Harry stuck his head in an alley they were passing, hoping to find Bucky. “And you know, I’d love to join your team of anti-heroes but I saw in the paper this morning that I’m a new recruit for the Avengers.”
Harry straightened up and smiled nervously over at Spider-Bloke. “Really? That sounds terrible. You should quit and join my team.”
The AA was a joke between Harry and Peter, but since Harry hadn’t talked to Peter in weeks, he figured he was sort of off the team… as much as that thought bothered Harry.
“Done,” Spider-Bloke said easily. “Maybe we could make our first mission not looking for dangerous criminals.”
“Hmm…” Harry hummed and pretended to think it over. “Sorry, but I’m actually in charge.” He patted Spider-Bloke on the shoulder and gave him a winning smile. “And Bucky’s not dangerous, he’s sick.”
And why nobody aside from Harry could see that, Harry had no idea.
Every time Harry saw Bucky, he looked like someone terrified of the world and himself. There was something in his eyes that made Harry’s chest ache with sympathy while his blood raced in acknowledgment of the fact that Bucky could be dangerous, but he’d never hurt Harry.
Except for the time he shoved Harry on his arse, but that was hardly Bucky’s fault.
“Sick in the head,” Spider-Bloke muttered.
Harry pretended Spider-Bloke wasn’t being horribly sarcastic. “Exactly, and if other people with messed up heads get help, why not him?”
“Because he’s a murderer?”
Harry huffed and stopped on the sidewalk to glower at Spider-Bloke. “Are you going to help me or are you going to be a prat the whole time? Because I like you, but I’m trying to help him so if you’re not helping me then go away because he won’t come out if you’re hanging around talking shit about him.”
“I’ll stick around, make sure you don’t get killed,” Spider-Bloke said with what seemed like a grin.
It was hard to tell really, with the mask he had on, but Harry was usually decent at judging the moods of people he hung around. Harry really wished Spider-Bloke would just take the mask off, but he figured he was probably shy.
“You should tell me your name,” Harry said as casually as he could while they resumed their walk. “Maybe- maybe your number too? I can’t keep calling you Spider-Bloke and snogging you if I don’t even know your name.”
Spider-Bloke didn’t say anything for a minute, so Harry kept walking with Joey sort of leading him along. New York was rather pretty in the fall- not as good as Hogwarts, but still pretty enough with the sparse trees in the neighborhood changing colors and the lavish fall themed decor on the shops and buildings.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that…” Spider-Bloke stopped and grabbed Harry’s hand, holding it between his while he stared down at him, his expression hidden behind the mask. “I don’t want this to get ruined,” he said softly. “And, who knows? Maybe you knowing my secret identity could get you hurt.”
“Maybe me not knowing could get me hurt,” Harry countered with. He grinned a little, “I don’t really like secrets much.”
It wasn’t like Spider-Bloke had a law he had to follow; there was no law saying ‘enhanced humans’ had to keep their identity a secret, not like with wizards and…
Spider-Bloke wasn’t a muggle.
“You’re not a muggle!” Harry cried, suddenly delighted. He momentarily forgot all about Bucky as he realized that if Sirius and Wanda were classified as ‘enhanced humans’ and so was Spider-Bloke, then there was no law saying Harry couldn’t tell him.
If Sirius could be seen on every bloody news channel riding a broomstick and using his wand, then Harry could tell one single ‘enhanced person’ about magic.
“I’ll trade you secrets,” Harry smirked, sure he could get Spider-Bloke’s name. “C’mon, mine’s brilliant, way better than a name. You don’t even have to take your mask off if you don’t want to.”
“Wait, what’s your secret?” Spider-Bloke asked. “You literally tell me everything.”
“Not everything,” Harry taunted him. He looked around the very open sidewalk they were on and pulled Spider-Bloke and Joey both back about half a block until they could duck in an alley.
Harry wondered if he should be concerned about the amount of time he spent in alleys recently, but decided that was a problem for Michael to decipher.
“Quit showing off and tell me your name,” Harry told Spider-Bloke when he began crawling up the wall and doing flips off it.
Spider-Bloke landed in front of Harry and Joey jumped up on him, wagging his tail and begging to be pet, which Spider-Bloke did while he tilted his head curiously at Harry.
“Tell me your secret first,” he said. “If it’s that you think my ass looks great in this suit, I know.”
Harry scowled and kicked a rock toward Spider-Bloke, distracting him from Harry’s red face.
“Nobody’s arse looks great in red and blue spandex,” Harry lied through his teeth. “How do I know you’ll tell me your name if I tell you my secret?”
Spider-Bloke laughed and sat down on the gross ground, loving on Joey while he looked up at Harry. “Trust, I guess. But if your secret isn’t like totally earth shattering then I reserve the right to give you a fake name.”
Harry sat down and crossed his legs on the gross ground as well and considered the new deal.
Magic was earth shattering.
… right?
“Deal,” Harry grinned. He offered his hand to Spider-Bloke for a handshake and instead Spider-Bloke just held it in his while he waited for Harry’s secret.
Harry hesitated, struck by sudden nerves. It was the calm way that Spider-Bloke rubbed his thumb on the back of Harry’s hand that soothed his nerves.
Spider-Bloke was ‘enhanced’. He got bit by a bloody spider and got super powers, he wasn’t in a great position to call Harry a freak.
“Did you see the videos of the Avengers in Sokavia?” Harry hedged, waiting to see what his reaction would be.
Spider-Bloke laughed a little, “I think everyone did.”
“So… so you saw my godfather, right?”
“Sirius? Yeah, the one with the black hair and flying broom? They’re calling him Magic Man.”
Harry snorted; if he ever talked to Sirius again, he was going to take the mickey out of him for such a daft name. Harry didn’t like ‘Black Widow’ but at least she found an original name instead of ‘Iron Man’, ‘Spider-Man’, and ‘Magic Man’.
“Well… I can do the same thing he can. I was born with magic, I’m a wizard,” Harry said in a rush, his stomach twisting and causing him to blurt it all out at once. Harry then stared very hard at his and Spider-Bloke’s entwined hands right next to where Joey plopped his head on Spider-Bloke’s lap and waited for a response.
“You… can… do magic?” Spider-Bloke finally asked, painfully slowly.
Harry nodded. “Your turn,” he said, speaking extra quickly to make up for Spider-Bloke’s stunned and slow speech.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Is that- you’ve got some sort of abilities? Is that why you don’t know freaking algebra?!”
Spider-Bloke moved from the ground against the wall behind himself in one move so quick that Harry nearly couldn’t see it. One second, Harry thought everything would be fine, the next it looked like he’d fucked everything up again.
“I…” Harry blinked and swallowed hard. “Wait… who told you I don’t know algebra?”
That wasn’t something Harry told Spider-Bloke, he was fairly certain of it. Harry hadn’t wanted to seem like an idiot, so he didn’t talk much about his classes with him.
And if the news was reporting on Harry’s grades then Harry would probably be alone and friendless for the rest of his life.
Spider-Bloke reached up quickly and grabbed the bottom of his mask, causing Harry’s breath to catch, then—
“PETER?!”
Harry jumped to his feet then and snatched Joey’s leash off the ground when it wasn’t some nineteen year old fit bloke beneath the mask, it was someone Harry trusted and liked up until he screamed at Harry and started being a dick.
“YOUVE BEEN LETTING ME TALK ABOUT YOU TO YOU?!” Harry screamed as the blood drained from his face quicker than ever before. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
How could he?
How the fuck could he?
“I trusted you… twice,” Harry said in a soft and furious voice. “Twice, Peter, TWICE I TRUSTED YOU! You arrogant, self-centered, lying—”
“Oh I’m the only liar here?!” Peter laughed harshly and flung his mask at the wall a few feet to the left of where Harry stood. “YOU HAVE FREAKING MAGIC, HARRY! And you never told me, nooo, BUT YOU’LL TELL SPIDER-MAN?”
“SPIDER-MAN IS A STUPID FUCKING NAME!” Harry shouted. “I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU TRICKED ME INTO THINKING YOU’RE SOMEONE YOU CLEARLY AREN’T, TWICE, BUT BRAVO!”
“Get off the freaking cross, Harry!” Peter scoffed. “I didn’t think I fell in love with some MAGICAL FUCKING WIZARD!”
Harry staggered backward, accidentally tripping over Joey’s leash and nearly falling, as the air was knocked from his lungs and he gaped at Peter.
“You…” Harry didn’t even know what to say. “You’re mad,” he said hoarsely, blindly backing down the alley as he tried to blink back frustrated tears. “You don’t love me.”
“God damn it,” Peter growled. He pulled at his hair and looked upward, spinning in a quick and agitated circle. “Yes I do,” he said, stopping to watch Harry leave. “Please, Harry, let’s just talk, okay? We both fucked up, we both kept secrets. Can we just talk like normal people? Please, please, Harry?”
“Every time you talk you lie to me,” Harry said. He swallowed hard, “Every time.”
Sirius loved Harry, even when he refused to quit the team, Harry knew he loved him.
Tony loved Harry… which was odd, but nice. But Tony was Harry’s dad he didn’t have to love him, but Harry assumed it made dealing with him much easier.
And that was it.
Those were the people that loved Harry.
“You are a FUCKING LIAR!” Harry shouted once more before turning around and pulling Joey along so they could sprint back home.
Harry heard Peter scream once behind him, but Harry pretended he also didn’t exist.
No notebook.
No Peter.
Easy.
It didn’t even hurt.