Chapter 18
"I've got some good news and bad news," Tony sighed, walking into the living room where Peter, Harry, and the rest of the team were sitting.
"What is it?" Bruce asked, brow furrowing as he frowned.
"Loki and Thor just sent a message saying they can't make it until tomorrow evening, but the good news is, I've been informed that the Dursley's house is unoccupied at the moment, so we can go get Harry's stuff," he turned to face Harry. "If you want to go get it, that is. I'm sure someone would be more than willing to go get it for you, or, we understand if you don't want it at all too."
"No! I want it!" Harry cried, straightening up a bit from his position lying against Peter. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "I want to go get it. This is something I need to do."
A relieved and proud smile appeared on Tony's face, and affectionately ruffled both Harry and Peter's hair.
"When are we going?" Harry asked, standing up. "Can we go this afternoon?"
"Can we fly to England this afternoon?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically.
"...Yes?" Harry replied, searching the billionaire's face for any sign of an answer.
Tony crossed his arms and rocked back on one foot for a moment, tilting his head as he thought before flashing a bright grin. "What's the point of having a private jet if you can't use it to make trips to another country in the middle of a day?"
"Tony, I can't go today, I have that conference," Pepper stood up and placed a hand on his arm, a worried and disappointed look on her face.
"I can go," Natasha offered, and both Tony and Pepper turned around. "If you want a second person to go with you, I can go."
"Harry, is that alright with you?" Tony asked, and Harry nodded.
"I want to go too," Peter chimed in.
"Absolutely not, kid. You're supposed to go home today as it is, and you're aunt is definitely not going to approve of you flying across the ocean to run a 10 minute errand with us," Tony lectured.
"Tony, I'm not sure I want Harry going," Bruce spoke, making everyone turn and look at him.
"Bruce," Harry pleaded.
"I'm serious, Harry. You've had a rough past few days, and your body is recovering. As it is, your fever just broke a few hours ago. And now you want to fly across the Atlantic? I'm not so sure it's a good idea."
"C'mon Bruce," Tony held up his hands. "Nothing's going to happen. I'll make sure he takes a nap on the plane, and he's not straining himself in any way at the house. We'll be back by 9. 10 tops."
"Plus, we're going to be with him. If he gets sick, we'll turn around and come straight back," Nat added, and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Plus, I think getting out of the tower will help me get better, don't you think Bruce?" Harry turned to the doctor with puppy dog eyes so strong that they near-matched Peter's, and Bruce crumbled immediately.
"Alright, alright. But you take a nap there and back, okay? And, I swear to God, if I hear you spiked a fever- even a tiny one- and didn't come back immediately? You're never leaving my sight again, got it?"
Tony, Nat, Harry, and for some reason Peter, gulped with a nod.
The man was scary in doctor mode.
"Can we go now? I can't wait to show you my Firebolt!" Harry exclaimed, becoming more animated by the second. It was the bubbliest anyone had seen him in almost a week.
"Show us your what now?" Clint teased, giving Harry a wink. Harry had explained to them all about Quidditch and how much he loved it, going on and on about the game for hours.
"Harry, are you alright?" Steve asked, dulling the moment a bit.
"Yes, why?" Harry frowned slightly. He was just excited, why did Steve think something was wrong?
"You're shaking, and it's not just excitement. You're... trembling," Bucky commented, noticing it too. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"I feel fine," Harry insisted with a sigh. "I just... I always shake, okay?"
"He's right. Even in his sleep, he twitches and shakes a bit," Peter mumbled. "Sorry, that sounded a bit creepy."
Bruce frowned, watching as Harry curled in on himself. It was a complete flip from his mood not even 10 seconds ago.
"Harry," he began gently, "we just need to make sure it's not a side effect of an infection or anything else, okay?"
"It's not," Harry replied quietly, his chin tucked to his chest.
"But we don't know that for a fact, " Bruce sighed, feeling as if he were arguing with a toddler... Or Tony.
"Because I've had it for two years, okay?" Harry burst suddenly, taking aback everyone in the room.
"What- Harry, what do you mean? Why haven't you said something sooner? We could have started physical therapy, or started with-" Tony began, but Harry cut him off.
"It's because you wouldn't be able to do anything about it," he said before sighing and rubbing a trembling hand over his face.
As far as the shaking went, Harry had good and bad days. On the good days, the shaking and spontaneous twitches were at a very low to nonexistent level. On a bad day, he would make sure to wear sweatshirts and clothes with long sleeves to hide the trembling, say he was cold, and avoid taking anything from anyone's hands-- a trick Tony had apparently patented several years ago.
"It's from dark magic. There's no cure," he explained, looking down at his hands then back up at everyone in the room. "I'm fine now, but during the third task in the Triwizard Tournament, I told you Cedric and I were transported to the graveyard.
"Voldemort's followers were there, and so was a very weak and lifeless Voldemort. He ordered Cedric to be killed. 'Kill the spare' were his exact words," Harry paused, reliving the memory for a moment.
The flash of green light.
The look on Cedric's face.
How he had been positioned just slightly in front of Harry, trying to protect him.
"Harry?" Clint called softly, watching expressions of pain cross the teenager's face.
"Come back to us bud. Hey, there ya go," he coaxed as Harry slowly reappeared from wherever he had just gone.
"Sorry," Harry apologized, blinking back tears. Part of him still felt responsible for Cedric's death, and no matter how many people told him otherwise, he was sure that he always would.
"Hey its okay. Take your time sweetie," Pepper hushed, and Tony gave a her a look of confusion. 'Sweetie' wasn't a word she used. Ever.
"After he... After Cedric was... After that, they tortured me. Pain curses. Pinned me down, sliced my arm open to take my blood, which they needed to bring Voldemort back. Once he was restored to power, he asked me to battle. I said some things he didn't like, and he hit me with several pain curses.
"The pain-- it's worse than almost everything I've ever experienced," -nobody missed the use of the word 'almost'- "and I was under it for a long time. And then again, this past year, during the final battle. I suppose its nerve damage from the stress of it. Any way- it can't be healed."
Tony was seeing red. Why was everyone so set on hurting his kid?
Just from glancing at Bruce, he could tell that the same thoughts were running through the doctors mind.
"Hey big guy, settle down. Now's not the time, and the guy's dead anyway," Clint murmured to Bruce whose eyes were beginning to bleed green.
"You're right," Bruce took a deep breath. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"Can I please go?" Harry asked, looking up at Bruce with puppy dog eyes. "I promise I'll sleep on the plane."
Bruce sighed, looking around the room. Steve, Clint, Tony, Pepper, Peter, Natasha, Bucky and Harry's eyes were all trained on him, awaiting the answer.
"Fine. But you're taking a nap on the plane," Bruce conceded.
"Thank you! I promise, I won't overdo it!" Harry hopped up and threw his arms around the doctor, taking the man aback for a moment with surprise.
Seconds later, Harry pulled away and turned expectantly to Tony, who was chuckling. Natasha stood up and placed a hand on Harry's shoulders.
Tony glanced at Bruce for one last nod of assurance before shrugging.
"Well what are we waiting for? My private jet is on the way- we've got a plane to catch!"
*
"Hey Aunt May," Peter greeted, dropping his bag on the floor next to the door and slipping off his shoes before walking into the kitchen to hug his aunt.
"Hey Petey, I missed you," she kissed his temple and reached up to ruffle his hair, despite the 5 inch height difference.
"How was your weekend?" He asked, grabbing a granola bar from a cabinet before unwrapping it and eating it in two bites. "'Ny d'tes?"
May wrinkled her nose and swatted at his arm.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," she scolded gently, "and yes, for your information, I did."
"OOH!" Peter squealed. He felt bad for being excited about Aunt May dating, but seeing her happy and moving on was nice, and she deserved it.
"Was it with Glenn?" Peter wrinkled his nose, and May rolled her eyes. "He smells like cheese."
"Peter!" She laughed. "And no, it was not! I actually have standards, believe it or not!"
"Who was it with then?"
"Sean, one of the new RNs," she replied, pretending to be interested in opening a letter from a college in Louisiana that Peter knew he would never attend.
"Is he cute?" May laughed as Peter propped his elbows on the counter and leaned his head on his hands.
"Yes, yes he is."
Peter paused, thinking of Harry. Should he tell May about it? She had the right to know. As it was, with the entire team knowing, there was no way of keeping it a secret for long.
"Hey, why the long face all of a sudden? I thought we were joking around and having fun?" May set down the letter and hopped up so she was sitting on the counter, staring at Peter expectantly.
"Aunt May, would you... If I told you... Okay. If I liked guys... Would you be mad?"
Her big eyes searched his face intensively, as if searching for something.
"Pete, are you trying to tell me you're gay?"
"What? No! I..." He trailed off and looked at his hands before murmuring, "pansexual, actually."
A beat of silence passed before Peter looked up at his aunt through wet lashes.
"Are you mad?" He choked.
"Peter," May began. "Nothing could ever make me love you any less. I could care less who you date. As long as you're happy and they're treating you right, I don't care if they're a guy or a girl or don't have a preference at all. I'll love you the same no matter what, okay?"
And those were the only words that Peter needed to hear before diving into May's arms and squeezing her in a tight hug.
"Okay, okay, okay spider baby, super strength remember?" She wheezed with a laugh, and Peter's grip loosened immediately.
"That's better. Now," she pulled away from him. "Tell me about this boy that's got you so red in the face."
*
Vernon Dursley stood outside Number 4 Privet Drive, umbrella-less, in the rain. He was wearing a hat and a long cloak that helped disguise him well.
Slowly, he made his way up the steps to the front door, where he bent down and reached under the door mat, pulling out a spare key.
He chuckled to himself. Petunia didn't even bother to hide the spare key when she and Dudley left to stay with her parents while awaiting the trial. It was as if she expected him to come.
Trying to go to America was a bit thick. As soon as he had stepped foot in the airport, he saw his face on the television screens covering every inch of the airport. Security was sure to pick him up, even in disguise.
He had shaved his mustache, and actually lost some weight recently. Without Petunia or the boy to cook for him, and without money to buy much food, he had been forced to limit what he was eating. He had also purchased a pair of glasses and colored contacts, now wearing brown contact lenses and reading glasses with the lenses popped out.
Upon first glance, he was near unrecognizable.
Fumbling with the lock for a moment, he unlocked the door and returned the key to its place under the mat before entering quickly.
Without even looking around the house, Vernon rushed to the cupboard under the stairs and threw open the door to find the boy's stuff perfectly untouched.
Smiling to himself, he shut the door slowly and walked up the stairs to begin getting prepared.
Everything was going perfectly according to plan.