Disclaimer: I used write out a very specific disclaimer explaining exactly what it is I don't own for each and every story I write but I find myself not really interested in doing so any more as it grew very tedious. Suffice it to say I own nothing that was created by anyone else and I am making no money whatsoever from the writing of this FanFiction.

Warnings: Mild Violence, Language, Adult Context, Alternate Universe,

AN: This story is self-beta'd; so there may be occasional grammatical or spelling errors that crop up every now and then and for those I apologize in advance.

Chapter 01: Stark Realities

Friday, April 03, 2015
Stark Tower, New York City
United States

Harry let out a low, growling moan as he woke to find himself in a soft, comfortable bed. He then promptly curled up beneath his covers and buried his head beneath a pillow in an attempt to sink back into oblivion to escape the lingering ache he still felt. The fourteen year old wizard bolted up and out of the borrowed bed he was sleeping in two seconds later when his memories from the graveyard slammed back into his head. As soon as he had opened his eyes, it didn't take him more than two heartbeats to figure out that he wasn't in his dorm room, in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, or his cramped bedroom at the Dursleys.

Panic began filling Harry as he took in the sterile metal walls of the room he'd woken up in. As he backed away from the odd looking metal bed he'd been lying in, Harry felt something tugging at his chest and when he looked down he found several wires and tubes linked to his half naked body. He stared at them for a split second before he began ripping them away, uncaring of the pain he felt as the adhesive patches were roughly pulled from his skin and he barely even flinched when he pulled the needle from his arm.

Harry was just pulling the tube from his nose when the door to the room slid open to admit an unfamiliar man that was wearing a white lab coat. The man frowned at Harry as he stated, "You really shouldn't have pulled the leads from your chest or the IV from your arm; you could have seriously hurt yourself."

"Who are you? Where am I? How did I even get here? Why am I here? What is it you want from me?" Harry demanded all in one breath as he warily moved around to place the bed between himself and the unfamiliar man.

"I am Dr. Bruce Banner and you don't have to be afraid; I'm not going to hurt you. You were in a right sorry state when I found you."

"Is this a hospital then?"

"No; it's more of a private infirmary. If you'll climb back into bed, I'll hook you back up to the monitors and run a few tests to make certain that we didn't miss anything while you were unconscious."

"Er, no; I don't think so," Harry retorted with a brisk head shake; he didn't trust the unfamiliar doctor at all. "I don't know you and you still haven't told me exactly where I am or what it is you want with me. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer it if you pointed me to the exit instead." At that point, Harry recalled the giant troll that had saved him as he added, "I need to track down a… friend."

"Sorry, no can do, kid," another man announced as strode into the room like he owned it (which Harry would later find out the man did, in fact, own the room along with the rest of the building it resided in). "We can't just let a kid your age wander off on his own; that would be highly irresponsible of us. How about this; you give us the names, address, and phone number of your parents and we'll call them so they can come pick you up? It might help if you were to give us your name as well."

Harry tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes as he replied, "Ah, no; I'm fourteen, almost fifteen, and not stupid; meaning I know better than to trust two perfect strangers. I'm also more than old enough to take care of myself."

"Fourteen…?" the unnamed man repeated in disbelief. "Get out of here; you can't be a day older than twelve, if that."

"I was cursed with short genetics and idiots for relatives," Harry snarked back as he reached up to adjust his glasses only to realize that he wasn't wearing them. He patted his face in confusion and rubbed his eyes before he stared at the two men watching him; panic rising as he realized he could see both men clearly despite the fact that he was not wearing his glasses. Taking a shaky breath, Harry demanded, "What the hell have you done to me?"

"We healed you," Dr. Banner answered as he lifted his arms in a placating gesture. "Please, I assure you that we do not wish to harm you; we only want to help you. We'll even help you find your friend before we get you back home."

"No. I don't need any help nor do I want any help; all I want is for you to let me go. I suppose I owe you a thank you for healing me, and once I get home I can make arrangements to repay you for that, but I don't need anything else from you or your nameless friend, Dr. Banner."

"Nameless…?" the unnamed man gasped in shock as his mouth fell open. "Don't you recognize me?"

"No, sorry; I've never seen you before. You're probably confusing me with my father; I've been told countless times that I looked just like him."

"J.A.R.V.I.S., I thought you said you checked for any signs of a concussion," the man called out to the air as he frowned at Harry. "The kid is obviously suffering from some serious head trauma if he doesn't recognize me."

"All of the scans taken of the young man's brain came back normal, sir; bar the unusually high level of brain activity that the scanners are currently registering," a voice with a British accent stated from out of no where; making Harry jump and glance around the room for a third person.

"Then why the hell doesn't the kid know who I am?" the man petulantly demanded.

"I didn't think any one could have an ego larger than Lockhart," Harry half muttered to himself as he snapped his head back around to stare at the grown man who was now pouting at the teen.

"Don't mind Tony; he's used to being the center of attention," Dr. Banner stated with a nervous laugh.

"I'm Tony Stark, I'm always the center of attention," the other man stated as he straightened up to look Harry up and down carefully. "Maybe he'd recognize me if I had on my Iron Man suit."

"Iron Man suit? What is that?" Harry asked as he wrinkled his brow in confusion before he shook his head and pushed his curiosity to the back of his mind. "You know what, don't answer that; I don't care what it is. Will one of you please just tell me what you did to me and then show me the way out?"

"You don't know who Iron Man is?" Dr. Banner parroted back with more than a little surprise while the other man gave Harry a blank look before he stalked out of the room. "Don't take this the wrong way but have you been living under a rock all of your life? I mean, Tony Stark… Stark Industries is huge… a company known world wide and Iron Man? Iron Man is… well, it's Iron Man."

"I might as well have been living under a rock; I spent the last four years at a boarding school and my summers with my relatives. Still, I'm really not interested in hearing all about Mr. Stark, his company, or his weird metal suit; so you don't have to worry about filling me in. All I really want is for you to tell me what it is that you've done to me and for you to let me leave."

"Tell you what, you sit down on the bed and allow me to give you a cursory examination while you answer a few of my questions and I will answer a few of your questions. You can discuss your departure with Tony later. Does that sound fair enough to you?"

Harry frowned slightly as he contemplated the doctor's offer before he let out a sigh when he realized it was probably the best he was going to get. He then gave Dr. Banner a reluctant nod as he climbed up onto the bed and pulled the discarded sheet around him as he finally realized just how cold the room felt.

"You can keep the sheet around your shoulders if you are cold but I need to you scoot up to the edge and drop your legs over the side of the bed for me so I can test your reflexes," Dr. Banner instructed as he stepped up to the bed. "And, if you could start with your name, I would appreciate having something to call you other than kid or hey you."

"Harry. What did you do to my eyes?"

"We removed a foreign substance that was pressing down on your optical nerves and repaired the long term damage caused by the substance. What are your parents' names? And I need you to take a deep breath for me."

"My parents are dead," Harry replied as he restrained himself from reaching up to finger the lightning bolt scar on his forehead while the doctor checked his heart and lungs. "Where am I?"

"Stark Tower, New York City. When and how did your parents die?"

"October thirty-first, nineteen eighty-one and they…" Harry answered before he trailed off; the wizard a bit unsure of how to finishing answering the question because he was certain the two men were muggles. He briefly considered telling them that his parents had died in a car crash (as his aunt and uncle had told him for years) before he decided that it would be wrong to belittle their sacrifice in such a way now that he knew the truth. "They were killed by a madman; they died trying to protect me. Why did you bring me to New York? Why didn't you just take me to the closest hospital?"

"We originally planned to take you to the nearest hospital but there were some… irregularities with your situation that would have caused a lot of problems. So, Tony brought you here where we knew you would receive the treatment you needed without any hassles. What is your birthdate? And do you know the name of the man that killed your parents? Or if you don't know his name, a description of him would do."

"I was born on July thirty-first, nineteen eighty. And Tom Riddle is no longer human enough to be called a man; he'd become a monster long before he kill my mum and dad. He's dead now and hopefully, this time, he'll stay dead too. When you found me… was there another, older boy? He… Pettigrew killed him but his body should have been in the graveyard where you found me."

"I didn't find you in a graveyard, I apparently found you in Hyde Park but we were in the French Alps when I finally woke up. I don't remember there being anyone but you there. Could you tell me what happened to you that night and how you got injured?"

Harry felt his heart ache as the memory of Cedric's death hit him hard at that moment and he reached up to press his hands to his face. He also remembered the grim realization of his own impending death during that terrible duel with Voldemort and how easily he'd accepted that he would die that night.

"Harry…?" Dr. Banner gently prompted.

"I can't. I can't tell you anything more. I… I need to get to Scotland. I need to tell the Headmaster what happened to Cedric and Voldemort. I have to warn him about the Death Eaters. And I have to find the… friend that saved me and make sure nothing happened to him."

The door to the room slid open again at that point and Harry lifted his head out of his hands in time to see a human sized red and gold robot walk into the room. The robot thing walked to the middle of the room and placed its hands on its hips and demanded, "Now do you recognize me, kid?"

"Uh, no; I didn't know that talking robots existed," Harry replied as he stared at the talking machine.

"I'm not a robot!" the machine spluttered in response as it lifted a hand and peeled the face plate off to reveal the other man from earlier, the one Dr. Banner had called Tony Stark.

"Is that the suit you were talking about earlier? Why would anyone want to wear a metal suit? Doesn't it get too hot to wear outside when the sun is up?" Harry asked as he eyed the suit while Dr. Banner covered his mouth and smothered his laughter.

"This suit no mere suit I'm wearing… it's a state of the art piece of technological genius and with it, I am Iron Man."

"Good for you, sir; I like the color. However, I still say that it looks far too hard and complicated to get into and out of; what happens when you have to pee?"

"I just pee right in the suit; no need to take it off."

"Oh, gross; that is so disgusting! Why would you…? How could you stand walking around covered in pee? What do you do when the suit fills up and you're swimming in your own pee? Urgh, I think I'm going to be sick just thinking about it."

"Oh, don't be a drama queen; the suit has a filtration system that deals with it and the water it produces is clean enough to drink."

"I so did not need to know that. That is just so… urgh, can I go now? I am almost tempted to go find Lockhart and have the barmy ponce permanently wipe the memory of you and your tin-can-toilet-suit from my mind."

"We are going to need more information from you before we can take you home," Mr. Stark replied once he'd collected himself (the man had gaped at Harry due to the insult that the teen had directed at the Iron Man Suit). "Such as the names of your current guardians, your home address, the address of your school, what you think the current date is, and a name or description of your friend. Like I said earlier, it would be irresponsible of us to let a fourteen year old wander off on his own."

Harry didn't like the way Mr. Stark had stressed his age, as if he didn't believe Harry about his age. He also didn't really want to give the man any more information than he'd already given Dr. Banner. When it became apparent that the man was still waiting for answers, Harry evasively replied, "My boarding school is in Scotland; my headmaster will see to it that I get back to my relatives after I tell him what happened. You don't need to worry about my friend and I don't know what day it is because I don't know how long I was out."

"You were unconscious for two weeks," Dr. Banner offered in response to Harry's final statement.

"That would make it the twenty-third or twenty-fourth of June," Harry murmured half to himself.

"And the year?" Mr. Stark prompted.

"Nineteen-ninety-five."

"Wrong answer, pal," Mr. Stark countered as he crossed his arms with a clank. "You're off on your calculations by about three months and twenty years, kid; it's April third of the year twenty-fifteen. So, who are you really and where are you from? And who is this supposed friend you keep talking about?"

It was Harry's turn to gape at Mr. Stark as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea that he'd somehow lost twenty years after the events in the graveyard. He then frowned and shook his head in denial even as he rasped out, "No, you're lying. I can't possibly have lost twenty years…"

Harry's voice trailed off and the blood drained from his face as a small part of him realized that it was entirely possible for him to have lost twenty years. There were plenty of spells that could manipulate time and there were magical aides and artifacts that could take one back in time (time turners, for one); so it was possible that he'd lost a significant number of years. He began hyperventilating as he recalled the golden dome of magic that had engulfed him and Voldemort when their spells had connected and the effect the spells of the Death Eaters had had on that dome of volatile magic when the Dark Lord had ordered his minions to kill Harry.

"Hey, hey; calm down, kid," Mr. Stark ordered as he reached out to grab hold of Harry.

Harry threw himself into a backwards roll that had him dropping down off the bed once more in order to maintain his distance from the metal-suited man. The teen's stomach twisted with panic and despair as his mind created all kinds of horrible scenarios taking place after he'd been thrown forward through time. At the same time, the little magic that his core had not used to help facilitate his recovery began shifting in response to his emotions which in turn caused the lights in the room to flicker.

"Tony, is that you playing with the lights?" Dr. Banner demanded; his curt voice cutting through Harry's panic, drawing the teen's attention to his fluctuating magic.

"Uh, no; that's not me Bruce."

Taking a deep breath, Harry calmed himself and backed further away from both men as he tried to think of how he could get to Hogwarts where there would be someone he could trust to help him. Help you…? Since when has anyone in that castle helped you? Harry's sub-conscience insidiously demanded as it brought up the wealth of memories he had of all the times the staff had failed him and the other students. Face it, Harry; those people could care less what happened to you and if you did go to them, they'd blame you for whatever it was that happened all those years ago. Isn't that what they always do? Blame you for every little thing that goes wrong?

Harry's knees buckled and he staggered for a couple of steps before he dropped down onto his knees as the weight of those old memories pressed down on him and his sub-conscience continued to whisper, None of them will listen to you, they never do. Not when you tried to warn Professor McGonagall about someone being after the Stone, not when you denied being the Heir of Slytherin, not when you tried to tell the Minister that your godfather was innocent, and not when you told the entire school that you didn't put your name into the Goblet of Fire.

Where were the teachers when you faced Voldemort twice in your first year? Where were they in your second year when Hagrid was arrested? And when you faced Voldemort and a basilisk beneath the castle? What did any of the adults do to protect Hagrid and Buckbeak from the Malfoys in your third year? Where were the rest of the staff when Pettigrew escaped? When the dementors attacked? When Fudge prepared to have Sirius's soul sucked removed without a proper trial?

And what help were the staff in preventing you and Cedric from falling into a trap during the final task of the Tournament? Where was Dumbledore while Pettigrew was murdering Cedric? When the traitor stole your blood in order to bring back Voldemort? Or when Voldemort was torturing you? Face it, that world cares nothing for you; it never has. After all, they were the ones that consigned you to the Dursleys and a childhood of servitude.

"Harry, you need to calm down," Dr. Banner instructed and Harry snapped his head up to find the doctor crouching just a few feet away from him. "Easy; I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just worried about you."

"I'm fine," Harry replied automatically; that particular response so deeply ingrained in his psyche that it would never occur to him to give any other answer regardless of how 'fine' he wasn't.

"Does that mean your panic attack is over, kid?" Mr. Stark inquired nonchalantly as he too moved closer to the teen.

"I wasn't panicking," Harry denied with a frown. "I was… reflecting."

"Uh-huh… and what did you learn from your reflections, kid?"

"That I absolutely hate it when people call me kid," Harry deadpanned as he half glared at the man in an effort to distract the man from digging too deeply into what had just happened.

"So, being called kid makes you go loopy until you end up in a not-panic attack?" Mr. Stark snarkily asked as he gave Harry a knowing look.

"Only when I'm confronted by crazy men in portable metal toilets."

"Ouch, that was a direct attack upon my person. I'd be highly offended about that if not for the fact that I've had far worse accusations and insults hurled at me. What other great insights have you been having in that half developed brain of yours?"

"What do you care?" Harry demanded in a quiet voice as his green eyes glittered with a mixture of fear and anger as he continued to maintain eye contact with the man. "You're just another adult in a long line of adults who will never listen to what I have to say. You will never see me as anything but a useless child; something not worth your time unless I have something that you want."

"You're way too young to be that cynical," Dr. Banner stated in a low voice.

"Don't be naïve, Bruce; life's harsher lessons are never age restricted," Mr. Stark chided as he continued to hold Harry's gaze. "And are you sure you want to challenge me like that, kid? I should warn you now, kid; I never back down from a challenge. You might not like it when I prove that I am not like the other adults you've known."

Harry snorted, "No other adult I've known has ever worn a metal suit that doubles as a full-body toilet; doesn't make you any less crazy though nor does it make you any less likely to ignore me again."

"I've not ignored you once."

"You've not let me leave, even after I've asked you to show me the way out several times."

"I didn't ignore you; I told you why we won't let you go."

"There's nothing you can do for me and there is no one who will come for me."

"What about the friend you mentioned earlier? Or the headmaster from your school?" Dr. Banner inquired with a slight frown.

"My headmaster is a busy man; he has more important things to do than come running halfway around the world just to take me home. As for my friend, I don't know his name and I have no idea where he lives."

"Then how could you possibly call him your friend?" Mr. Stark asked as he reached up to scratch the back of his head; his metal clad fingers scraping across the metal helmet he wore over his head. "And I thought you said your headmaster would be able to take you back to your relatives?"

"He killed Voldemort and saved my life," Harry explained wearily as he ran his hand through his hair and dropped his eyes to the floor. "What else could I call him but a friend after that? And Dumbledore would send me back to my relatives, he always does, but that doesn't mean he will waste his time to fetch me. That's if he's even still alive; he was positively ancient twenty years ago…"

"Okay, let's ignore the decrepit headmaster with one foot in the grave for now and focus on this, uh, friend of yours. For starters, do you think you could describe him for me?"

"He was… tall; very tall," Harry replied as he frantically tried to think of the best way to describe the giant troll that saved him without actually saying the creature was a troll. "Muscular too; he was definitely very, very strong. And I remember he had black hair and green eyes that were much lighter in color than mine. He didn't talk much though."

"Uh-huh, your friend didn't happen to have green skin, did he?"

Harry's breath caught in the back of his throat as he snapped his head up to pierce Mr. Stark with angry green eyes as he immediately feared for the life of the troll and demanded, "What did you do to him?"

"Whoa, I didn't do anything to him, buddy. I was just asking a question and I'm pretty certain you just answered it."

"You better not have hurt him," Harry snarled as he pushed himself back to his feet; his magic once again stirring.

"No, he's a bit hard to hurt," Dr. Banner muttered with a grimace.

"Where is he? What have you done to him? I won't let you keep him in a cage! He may not be human but that doesn't give you the right to lock him up as part of some kind of freak show."

"Relax, kid, the jolly green giant is not in a cage and he's not part of a freak show. He's actually a rather famous hero."

"Stop calling me kid and my friend wasn't a giant; he was a mountain troll. Well, a mountain troll on steroids. Though I suppose it's possible he could have giant blood in family tree. He was semi-intelligent too. Only troll I've ever come across that could speak English."

"A troll?" Mr. Stark snickered as he cast a sideways glance at Dr. Banner for some reason. "And he spoke to you? What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything to me… he uh, called Voldemort a… uh… er, well he called him puny right before he flattened him."

"Everything is puny to the Hulk."

"You said he's a famous hero… does that mean you know where he is?"

"Yes, I always know where he is," Dr. Banner stated with another grimace. "He hardly ever comes out though."

"So, he is locked in a cage then," Harry growled as he swung his sharp gaze from Mr. Stark to Dr. Banner.

"No, he's a… um… he's not exactly a real person, you see; he's part of another."

"Yeah right, there's no such thing as were-trolls and it was not even the full moon when I saw him. If he's some kind of celebrity hero, why is he locked up all of the time?"

"He's got some rather potent anger issues; he likes to smash things," Mr. Stark answered with a small smirk. "We all love the big guy though, I even consider him a friend. You know, you and I have a lot in common; the Hulk saved my life not that long ago. He helped save the entire city actually."

"Let him out," Harry ordered as he ignored the part about him and Mr. Stark having anything in common.

"He's not caged, he's sleeping," Dr. Banner insisted and Harry thought the man was looking a little panicky as his watch began beeping rapidly.

"I don't care! Let him go!" Harry yelled angrily as his magic exploded out of him.

The lights in the room exploded while the building's power surged in response to Harry's uncontrolled magic. Outside of the building, everything within ten miles of Stark Tower went dark as the area was knocked off of the power grid by the relatively weak if potent discharge of magic (Harry's core still rather depleted from the third task, his duel with Voldemort, and from the extensive healing his body had required due to the severity of his injuries).

Inside of the room, exhaustion slammed into Harry a split second after his magic had exploded outwards and his eyes rolled up in the back of his head as he passed out.

AN: Poor Harry, he's completely out of his depth here. I mostly had a ball writing this chapter last year; the entire scene where Harry insults the Iron Man suit several times always made me crack up each time I fiddled with the chapter to edit out the little mistakes I'd missed the first ten times I edited it. Poor Tony too, not only was he not recognized, his precious suit was picked on. Repeatedly. By a snot-nosed teen. *snickers* ~ Jenn

08-14-16: Minor edits made to chapter to fix spelling/grammar mistakes and removed unnecessary author's notes.