Chapter 6
Harry hadn't realized he passed out until someone shook him awake. He groaned and rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut to try and hold back the urge to be ill all over the hotel carpet. He could afford to replace it, yes, but that didn't mean he wanted to. Harry vowed that he would never look at memories without a chaperone again. Especially ones that were as chaotic and oddly-structured as Tony Stark's. What else did he expect from a genius, though?
"Are you okay?"
Thank god that was Blaise and not Clint. Harry didn't want to explain to Clint why he had fainted near a small, glowing basin. "Fine. Bathroom."
Blaise didn't argue as he dragged Harry across the room and into the pristine bathroom. They settled around the toilet and Harry let himself take a few deep breaths, glad when his stomach started to calm down.
"What the hell happened?" Blaise asked, his voice soft. He ran a hand through Harry's hair. "Do I need to call Miranda?"
"Memories," Harry murmured. He would never admit that he leaned into Blaise's hand. "I needed information, so I looked at Tony's memories."
"You've never reacted this bad to them before…"
Harry opened his eyes and frowned at him. "I haven't looked at them in eleven years. Any information on Tony and Howard, I just got from the press or old files at the house."
"Damn, Harry, you—"
"And it was a little hard to maneuver." Harry sighed and leaned against Blaise. "Now I have a damn headache. Shit."
"Well, I guess we're just lucky that you decided to look at the memories after you opened the expo."
"Mmhm." Harry closed his eyes again. "Next time, you're following me. Or helping me somehow."
"Deal." Blaise was quiet for a moment, but Harry could tell he wanted to say more. Sure enough, Blaise soon sighed and pushed Harry back to look at him. "Why were you looking at them now?"
Several reasons passed through Harry's mind, but he settled on the one he actually saw. "I needed to know Tony and Howard's real relationship."
"So you went with Tony's first? Harry, I really don't think—"
"Sorry," Harry said, pushing away. "I guess I had hope that they had a normal relationship while he was growing up. I wanted to see that Tony thought his father was a good man."
"And?"
Harry rubbed at his eyes. "And I was wrong. At least to Tony, Howard was a bastard. I'm glad I made the decision not to talk about Howard to other people as much as I could get away with. I would have painted him different and ruined this whole thing."
Blaise rubbed at Harry's back. "So what now?"
"I should look at Howard's memories, I guess." Harry reached out to the toilet to help himself stand. "I'm not sure if I want to anymore."
"Harry…"
"Maybe it's time to stop this, Blaise. Maybe it's time to finally let Tony Stark rest."
Blaise was quiet for a long time and only spoke when Harry got enough courage to look at him. "What about Iron Man? The people that depend on him?"
Harry rubbed at the reactor, wondering how long he had before the poison started to show on his body. "Heroes sacrifice themselves every day," he said, taking a few steps back to lean on the counter. "Besides, I kind of miss London."
"This is insane, you know that?" Blaise reached out to tap Harry's chest and Harry couldn't help but flinch away. Nobody had touched it since Stane. Blaise, thankfully, continued on as if nothing had happened. "Did you ever stop to think about Hermione and I? We aren't superheroes. We can't fake our deaths."
Harry looked away from him. "Hermione can hand the company over to someone and disappear. Claim it's because of heartbreak or something."
"And me?"
"Military mission gone wrong?"
Blaise snorted and shoved at Harry's shoulder. "You're an asshole. Despite everything you put us through, Hermione and I actually like this. She feels like she's making a difference in the world and I'm a highly-respected soldier."
"Power hungry?"
"Don't you know it." Blaise wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and walked him back into the room. "If you want to kick the bucket, that's fine, but don't expect us to follow this time. This is our life now."
Harry grunted as Blaise settled him on the bed. He let his friend shove him under the covers and then watched as he put away the miniature Pensive. It fascinated Harry how the blue of his reactor and the blue of the Pensive matched and he tried not to think of that in a morbid way. He couldn't help that he did, but at least he tried.
"Hey, Blaise?"
Blaise glanced over to Harry with a raised eyebrow. "What?"
"What do you think about moving here?"
"To a hotel?"
Harry let himself laugh. "No, to New York. I mean, we stayed in Malibu because it was more secluded and we had more time to slide into our new lives, but…"
"New York is where the company is officially run from, I know." Blaise sat on the edge of the bed. "If you want to live here, in New York, I'll follow you. You, Hermione, and Neville are all I have now." He smiled and shook his head. "And even Barton when he isn't being an idiot. We're a family, and family sticks together."
"Unless one of us dies, you unfaithful Slytherin."
Blaise laughed and leaned forward to ruffle Harry's hair. "That stopped being an insult years ago. Get some rest, idiotic Gryffindor."
Harry watched Blaise leave, unable to stop smiling at the old exchange. Sometimes it felt good to remember who they used to be, especially if there was no war mentioned. As soon as Blaise left and the high ran down, Harry's thoughts turned back to the memories and Howard. He doubted the man would know an element that could replace Palladium – Howard would sure never expect someone stupid enough to shove it repeatedly into his own body.
Harry really, really needed to stop doing this whole stupidity act. It was getting old.
He sighed and reached over to the tablet next to the bed, glad that he made sure Jarvis was uploaded into it. "Jarvis, you up?"
"Up and waiting with recent diagnostic examination."
The last thing he wanted was bad news, but he needed to know. "The watch says nine percent. Did you run the potions through to see what would help?"
"I have, sir, and am sending you the ones that may do some good." A corner of the tablet lit up; Harry flicked it open, frowning at the options. "I have also including some regular herb combinations that may help."
"Thanks, I'll get started on these when I can. When's my next meeting?"
"Your next appearance is at two-thirty tomorrow afternoon in the West Pavilion with several key military leaders. Shall I run off their names?"
"No, let's just make it a surprise. Make sure I'm heading there by two."
"Sir, will take approximately an hour—"
"I know, but this is my show, right? Relax, we've already scheduled for the fact that I'm going to be late." Harry hummed and opened another file. "How are we going on the designs for this?"
"Your secret project is still secret, sir."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I hope so. I don't want Blaise to see this before I'm finished." He hesitated. "Someone's got to take up Iron Man when I'm gone and I doubt he'd want Gryffindor colors."
"Yes, sir. Silver and green are much more elegant."
"The bad part is that you're telling the truth." Harry wrinkled his nose and turned the image. "Add some more guns to it. He's big into that stuff now that he plays with it all day. Maybe one on the shoulder…?"
"His is to be less discrete than yours, sir?"
"Of course because he'll hate that. Slytherins love discrete." Harry tapped a few more things. "We do still have that small storage of Stark weapons, right?"
"I am always watching it, sir."
"Great, we'll use those." Harry stretched and put the tablet back. "I'm going to take a nap."
Jarvis didn't answer him back, but Harry really didn't need him to. He was already asleep.