Disclaimer: Just like everybody else posting on ff. net, I do not own the copyrights of either Harry Potter or Ironman (or Corpse Bride or McDonald's). What I do own is an imagination and a laptop.

Summary: Harry was born a hermaphrodite but kept it a secret. He used his alternative identity as a woman to escape the nosy British wizards and settles in the States. There he met a handsome young genius who even though a complete womanizer and a snob captures Harry's attention. And vice versa.

Universe&Timeline: Follows HP books, set after DH; Follows IM movies, set a few years before the IM1 plot.

Main pairing: Harry(Helena)/Tony

A/N: I'm trying to use British dialect when writing from Harry's POV. So to you Americans football means soccer. I'm going to keep referring to Harry as 'Harry' and 'he' when I'm writing from Harry's POV as he still thinks of himself as Harry; but 'Helena' and 'she' when on anyone else's POV because they think of him as 'Helena'. The story is pretty much canon, but Harry didn't date Ginny, and of course he didn't marry her and have babies.

PS: My English classes never covered where to put commas, so I'm improvising.

Posted: 13.02.10

Harry's POV

God kill me. Hermione and Ron won't stop sending me those damn LOOKS! They look at me with their eyes almost screaming 'when are you finally going to ask her out?' and it annoys me to hell and back. Just because they got together, just like everybody expected, doesn't mean I have to start making babies with Ginny, just because everybody expects me to. I asked myself a question when I was nine. Do I want to be a mummy or a daddy? At fifteen the answer became pretty clear. Definitely a mummy. I have Cho Chang and her waterworks to thank that epiphany for.

I first laid eyes on her when I was thirteen. I found her to be incredibly beautiful, but not really in a sexual kind of way. When I was fifteen I kissed her. The kiss was not bad, I guess. Weird part was that even though I was attracted to Cho the kiss didn't make me feel much of anything. I went out with her once too. Thank god I did. It opened my eyes to the fact that even if I find both sexes alluring, in ways that aren't comparable, I am meant to date a man.

That was confirmed after first kissing a boy too. It happened later that same year, right after Sirius' death. The depression made me do something I never would've dared otherwise. When aunt Petunia was on her weekly beauty salon visit, I styled my school robes to look like a long black dress, stole a pair of her flip-flops, the ones she wont miss because she doesn't wear black (why buy black if you don't wear it anyway?), put on her makeup and put a hairclip into my hair in a way that kept my fringe in place, just in case. Borrowing one of her bigger handbags, I put on my invisibility cloak and went to London.

The first thing I did was convert galleons into pounds, and then buy myself a proper dress. It was a dark mossy green, no sleeves and almost reached my ankles. Then some makeup that looked better for my light olive complexion (aunt Petunia has horrible tastes anyway, bright light blue?!). Some boxer briefs, since I still have balls that need room and panties don't give that, and finally two bras. I had a petite body and my breasts are quite small, thank god or my secret would've been found out ages ago. Good thing that they didn't grow to B-cup until I was seventeen, and then I wasn't sleeping with a dormful of horny teenage boys.

After the emergency shopping I did I went to the ladies room and changed into the dress, took off the old makeup (damn, should've bought a real makeup remover) and put on my new very own makeup. The bigger bra was a bit too big, but the smaller pushup A-cup fit well. I finally looked like a proper girl. And I looked beautiful. I know because I've always seen a boy in the mirror and that enabled me a subjective view; my dressing up in my aunts rags doesn't count. The woman has a horrible eye, and her makeup never fit me that well either (blue isn't my color, actually it isn't hers either).

So, putting the makeshift robe-made-dress and makeup with my invisibility cloak in the bag, I left the little girls' room and found myself completely at a loss of what to do next. So I did what the Dursleys have always forbidden for me. I went to catch a movie. Didn't want a sappy chick flick, that's what my aunt always looks at home, or Hollywood action adventure violence, had enough of it at home too (Dudley's favorite). A poster of a creepy looking animated film caught my eye. Corpse Bride? Sounds interesting enough, so I guess we have a winner.

After buying the ticket and some soda I went to my seat. Next to me were two giggling girls, about a year or so older than I. They had a magazine.

"Oh my gawd, he's is just soooo hawt!"

Okay. Bimbo alert. The girl closer to me turned and caught me staring. Instead of turning back to her giggling friend like I expected of her, she gave me a wide grin and showed me the magazine.

"Isn't he just adoowable? He's sooo handsome and loaded to boot." She giggled.

I looked down at the magazine with lots on shots of a brown-haired, brown-eyed young man. The article stated that he's a 21-year-old young techno genius (having built his 1st engine at 6), returning to take over his late father's company from his business partner and friend Obadiah Stane.

It took a moment for me to realize that I was giggling, just like the other two. Tony Stark was very handsome.

"He… certainly has a charm to him."

The two girls burst into a new fit of giggles and I handed them the magazine back.

"I'm Abby, and this is Cindy. What's your name?"

"Harry." I replied automatically. Only when they looked at me oddly did I realize my error.

"Short for Hadriana, but everybody calls me Harry." I tried to correct my error. They seemed satisfied. After that I was pulled into a conversation about Tony Stark until the movie started. I enjoyed the movie very much. Especially the concept of the afterlife being so much better and livelier that life itself. I hope you're having a ball wherever you are, Sirius.

After the movie the girls invited me to eat with them in McDonald's. Even as the first impression was they're just two giggling bints, I must admit I was a little hasty. Or even a little hypocritical, as I was giggling just as much as they did. Anyway what was important was that we ran into Abby's twin brother Andy. He didn't care about his sister or her friend but he paid for my meal for me. He seemed patient enough, until Abby and Cindy started talking about celebrity breakups and hookups. He rolled his eyes and I got the impression that Abby had deliberately started talking about a subject that was boring for her brother.

Truthfully I was getting a little bored myself until some of Andy's buddies showed up and invited us to play some football. Damn it, why did I have to wear a damn dress!? But we went anyway. The girls didn't seem to care about the game much, they were more interested in cheering for the boys who were on the skins team.

"So, you wanna play?" Andy asked me, a flirtatious tone in his voice.

"I want to. But I just bought this dress." I answered. I really did want to play; I haven't played for five years, not since I graduated from my muggle school. I was always good at football, Dudley's fault though why I was always picked last for the teams.(1)

"Of course. You can sit by Abster and Cindy." He said like he was used to hearing excuses like that but never believe them.

"Seriously, Andy, I want to play." I said. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"Hey An, wanna get your chick to play too? Were one guy short." Andy's friend yelled at him.

They said that it didn't matter that I wore a dress while playing.

"Alright, but only of you don't push me. I really don't want to ruin this dress."

I ended up playing on Andy's team. I don't think the boys cared that I played, but just wanted to get an even number. Just look pretty on the side of the field? Screw that, I haven't had the chance to play in five stinking years! And you know what? The other boys sucked at this! Ha! Imagine their surprise when the girl in flip-flops (which were mighty uncomfortable by the way), holding the hem of her skirt so she can run, stole the ball from a guy twice her size and scored 4 goals! The end result 6-2.

Abby and Cindy had cramps from laughing and the other team sulked and went home to nurse their bruised egos. The game ended not very well though. A guy from the opposing team had enough of the humiliation and against my stated wishes deliberately pushed me into the mud. Andy, who I'm pretty sure had a crush on me, punched the guy in the nose. That started an all out fight. While the other boys were ecstatic and chanted a mantra of 'fight, fight, fight', I found it anything but amusing. Asking one of Andy's friends turned out to be futile. Some fine examples of Homo sapiens. Finally I got through to them by dousing them from a big water bottle (Abby and Cindy had to help).

After that Abby and Andy took me to their apartment so I could clean myself up. They had thin walls. While I was in the bathroom I heard Abby telling Andy to ask for my damn number already. So when I got out of the loo, all dressed in my black 'dress', I thanked them for letting me use their bathroom and bid them goodbye. When I left their apartment and was about to leave, Andy ran after me and told me he'll walk with me. I bit my lip. I didn't want to start a relationship with a muggle when the war was looming on the horizon. So I did what I had been curious about for a few years now. I kissed him. I kissed a boy on the lips. And let me tell you, if there had been any shred of doubt whether I should be with a girl or a boy since the Cho fiasco, it was gone now. Especially when he kissed me back. Ooh, weak on the knees… and getting turned on, nooooot good! So I pulled away and said it's not necessary. He nodded and went back, in a slight daze. He also forgot to ask my number, thankfully.

And here I am, sitting, with Ginny making doe eyes at me and my best friends sending pressuring stares. I DON'T WANNA MARRY A DAMN FEMALE, DAMNIT!

3rd person POV

Eating meals with the Weasleys got more and more awkward for Harry each passing day. At first it was just Ginny looking at him with an in love look in her eyes. Then Ron got into his head that he just had to become a brother-in-law. Hermione agreed, apparently, if her stares were to go by. If that wasn't enough of a bother to Harry already, the rest of the Weasley clan seemed to develop the same idea.

Harry chewed his roast potatoes. He had just turned eighteen, the war had just ended. Ron and Hermione, much to Mrs. Weasley's dismay, made plans to buy an apartment together, and all he wanted was take his damn NEWTs and commit his time to botany. Even as he held no attraction towards Ginny, he had no plans to settle down for a few years yet.

"Would you like more peas, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked with a smile. Ginny was the one who held the bowl.

Harry sighed. There was only so much he could take. He decided to put a stop to this circus.

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm going to have to be blunt with you and your family. Really it's a bit of a joke this charade. I know you all want me to get together with Ginny. That's not going to happen. Ever. I just can't see her that way." Harry deadpanned with his face devoid of any emotions.

Everybody tensed. Ginny dropped the bowl and it broke on the floor. She ran away and you could hear her sobs before she slammed her door shut behind her. Just dandy! Ron looked pissed and Hermione had a look of disappointment. Not the kind where you see there wasn't anything to do about the matter and you accept it, but the kind where you're looked down upon. Mrs. Weasley had a very forced and cramped smile on her face that looked like a grimace.

"Of course, dear. I understand."

Like hell she did.

After that day, things didn't go well for Harry. Ron refused to talk to Harry, opting to just glare at him. Hermione always sighed and shook her head, sending annoying as hell glances at him. Ginny was behaving like a woman scorned. The rest of the Weasley clan behaved with forced friendliness. By the end of the week Harry had had enough. While Ginny, Ron, Hermione and a bunch others went to Hogwarts to finish their education and get their NEWTs come September, Harry was nowhere to be found.

Harry used his Helena identity to get a drivers license and generally practiced being a woman. He absorbed himself in learning pathology and a little of cosmetology. As said before, he had a knack for flora so combining the aforementioned with nature... He immersed himself in his private garden and experimented with different scents and allergic reaction his created perfumes had. However it was difficult to concentrate with his 'friends' having no respect for his privacy. Even as he had his own rented apartment, they simply insisted on sitting in uncomfortable silence with him. The press wasn't much better. Having his personal space thoroughly violated, Harry decided the only way to get some self-time at all was to move away. Far away.

So by the end of August, he had completely put his male identity on a back shelf, where it collected dust, hopefully never to be taken out again. Instead he assumed his- her- other identity as Lady Helena Potter, the witch who lived among muggles. With a new name came a new image. He downed a hair growth accelerator potion before going to bed one evening and woke up feeling mighty uncomfortable. While his hair reached his mid back, he couldn't close his legs because of the damn bush that grew between them. His legs reminded him of some bizarre wolfman and don't even get him started on his eyebrows and armpits. Thankfully he still had that shaving device he was given on his 17th birthday.

While his old friends boarded the scarlet train on their way to Hogwarts, Harry boarded a plane on its way to California. He was still surprised how fast and easy he got the green card. There was little in this world that money couldn't buy. Lucky Harry was from an old noble, not to mention wealthy, family. Unlike the muggle world, wizards still had quite a few aristocrats running around. Hence the title Lady.

After the plane had landed, luggage claimed, and checkpoint passed, Harry took his first step on his new homeland. Harry smiled, took a deep breath and… gave himself a thorough scolding. Way to go genius! Next time plan ahead a few more steps and not just what's in front of you. The hell am I supposed to do now? House hunting can take months! Still, there was nothing else to do besides hail a cab and ask to be driven to a hotel nearest to a real-estate bureau. After settling in his room at a 4-star hotel, he headed out and started his quest on house hunting.

It was a PAIN! The agent, after discovering he was dealing with real live nobility, started showing him various villas and mansions, which surprisingly there seemed to be no shortage of in Malibu. Still, it was not what Harry needed at all.

"Really, don't you have a slightly smaller house? With more ground maybe? A garden?" Harry pleaded after two weeks of no luck. His own specific tastes surprised him. He thought he would be happy with just about anything after Grimmuald Place, but it just didn't seem right.

The agent was at his wits end as well. He was desperate not to lose the prestigious client, so as they say: desperate times call for desperate measures. Harry was a little reluctant when he was driven slightly out of the city and to what looked to be a pointless wasteland. He was shown a modestly sized house that looked like it was over two hundred years old.

"The house is old, but the plot is big. The lands reach from here to there to that mountain." Said the agent who felt like slicing his wrists. He had taken this Lady, who clearly had very refined needs, to this old piece of crap in the middle of nowhere. What the hell had he been thinking?!

"This is… perfect." Harry said after only looking at the house once.

"R-really?!" The agent was baffled. This was what the Lady wanted?

"The house will have to be remodeled. But it's what's behind the house that's precious." Harry smiled.

"But there's nothing there, milady."

"Exactly."

Two years passed and Harry celebrated his 20th birthday alone. Well sort of alone. The house had quickly been remodeled. Something that Harry did by himself with the help of magic, with plenty of plants potted in each room. The plants were Harry's guards actually. While looking innocent enough, the tentacles were not to be messed with, and considering how several were planted in every room of the house, including bathrooms, the house was a fort in disguise.

However if you were to visit, the house itself would be the furthest thing from your mind. Probably because of the humongous greenhouse looming behind it. Easily five times the size of the house itself, it even had three different levels. Kreatcher, disguised as a butler, wasn't a pushover either.

The greenhouse was exactly where Harry spent his birthday. Some of the plants he had had sentient consciousness and were nice to hang out with. With Kreatcher serving tea and the seedlings cooing Harry relaxed and admired the bottle on his hand.

"Well, these little sweethearts are finally in the market. You think they'll sell good?"

Harry had finally created the perfect perfume made only of flora.

"How can it not, mistress?" Kreatcher creaked with a grin "No one knows plants better than mistress."

Harry smiled at Kreatcher, the little flatterer.

"Mistress has an invitation, mistress."

"Invitation, Kreatcher?"

"Yes, mistress. To a party of sorts, mistress."

"Let me see, Kreatcher."

Kreatcher handed him the invitation. Harry took one look at the invitation.

"Please send my decline, Kreatcher. I have no desire to go to a movie star's birthday bash. Sending an invitation to a stranger. Seems like a shallow person."

"Mistress should go out and have fun sometimes, mistress. Kreatcher sees her poor mistress getting lonely. Kreatcher thinks mistress should find a husband."

It wasn't the first time Kreatcher had told him that.

"True, I should probably go out a bit more often, but the only way I would go to a stranger's party is if it were a charity event, or maybe a fundraiser. But a person who's just looking for more publicity or trying to get some can can it. Besides I have more work to do."

Besides perfumes, Harry was also working on the medical field. He started out small, of course. A better cough medicine was his first achievement. Trying to sell it though turned out to be a bit of a pain, as he had no papers to prove his professionalism. However as the drug was tested it was proof enough that he was the real deal. After that he looked for other ways to cure other ailments. He thought about developing a new vaccine, but discarded the idea. He distrusted vaccines and preferred to fight illnesses instead of trying to prevent them. He really had it against to plan ahead.

"Mistress has another invitation as well, mistress. And mistress said she'll attend fundraising charity, mistress did."

"Charity? What kind of charity?"

"Hospitals needs new and better equipment, they does. Needs money for that, mistress."

"Hospital fundraiser?"

"Yes, mistress. It is said many important medical noses will attend, mistress. Mistress should attend." Kreatcher kept egging Harry to go. Harry smiled at the house-elf.

"If I were to find a husband, Kreatcher, I'd like him to be a bit closer to my own age, which I doubt the doctors you want me to meet are. I shall attend however."

Kreatcher, in his butler disguise, drove to the fancy looking fundraiser-charity thingy with Harry sitting on the back seat. Harry was slightly nervous. So far he had managed to stay out of the public eye. Even when he first moved here he wasn't really hogged by the paparazzi despite being a British aristocrat moving to the states. However, with his new perfume Tentacula (kinda ominous name, but Venomous Tentacula was the main ingredient) released, and with his success in the medical field despite it only been a year and a half since his first deposit, Harry feared he will be hot news and be stripped of his peaceful solitude he had grown accustomed to.

Kreatcher opened the door for him. As soon he stepped out- a flash of light! Yay, not even one minute and someone shot a picture. Hopefully it was because of the limo. It didn't cross Harry's mind that it was because he looked stunning. He was aware that he looked beautiful, just not how beautiful. Walking up to the gala, he noticed he got plenty of attention. A waiter offered him champagne, but he refused. He wasn't 21 yet.

"Good evening, miss." A voice said.

Harry turned to a man that looked about sixty or so.

"Dr. Roger D. Counts, PhD and a pathologist. I was wondering whether you'd like to join me and some of my friends on our table."

He better not think Harry was there as spread legs, like a lot of gold diggers there. Still, he didn't know what else to do here anyway. And pathology was something that was within Harry's area of expertise.

"That would be lovely Dr. Counts." Harry said with a charming smile. He was about to introduce himself but the doctor was already pulling him towards the table.

Harry found the good doctor a little too smug. He pulled the chair for Harry at least. But Harry still felt uneasy. Especially since the other young women accompanying the doctor's friends all looked like gold diggers on the market for new sugar daddies, if the way they clung to the older men's arms was any indication.

"Woow, really? It's called a cell? Like a phone?" Was that woman for real? What the hell had she been doing in high school?

But the part Harry liked the least weren't the women with dangerously low IQ, or how he was immediately taken as one of them, but that no one asked his name. It was like it was normal for men to use nameless women at random and discard of them later when they get boring.

The last of Harry's patience however ran out when Dr. Counts rudely put an arm around Harry and said.

"Why don't you scurry over and give papa some sugar, toots."

Oh that did it. So Harry did exactly what the man asked. He took a bowl of sugar and dumped it all over his face.

"There's some sugar for you, Dr. Tactless." Harry said and gracefully left the table leaving the spluttering man and wide eyed bimbos behind. Maybe he should reconsider dating women. Being a father probably wasn't that bad.

"That was some show you made." A voice from behind said.

Harry turned his head to see an incredibly handsome man that looked vaguely familiar.

"Chivalry is dead. A girl has got to do what a girl has got to do in a world with no gentlemen." Harry stated.

"Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries." The man introduced with a crooked grin while offering his hand which Harry took.

"And what might be the name this delicately gorgeous young lady?"

"Lady Helena Potter, an aristocrat and a biologist."

Harry couldn't even start to describe the smug joy he felt when a look of utter surprise crossed the man's face.

"And he still treated you like that?"

"Maybe he would not have, had he actually had the tact to ask for my name."

10 minutes ago.

Tony was bored. There were plenty of nice young ladies walking around but no one captivated him tonight. That's what usually happened when he started an interesting new project: all he wants to do is to get back home behind the tinkering table. Tonight it would have to take a very special kind of woman to distract him from his thoughts of work.

"Too much partying, Tony? Feeling tired from having too much fun?" Chuckled Obadiah, who was far from oblivious about Tony's dilemma.

"Just the company, Obie. Just want something fresh and… Who is that?"

Tony was quickly distracted by a black haired goddess with burning emerald eyes. Granted she wasn't wearing a particularly revealing garment, but the slender curves left little to the imagination.

"The one with the red dress? Never seen her before. Looks young enough, might be her first party of this caliber around here."

"Most likely, I think I would've remembered a face such as hers. Excuse me." Tony said and handed Obadiah his martini glass.

He was about to go and introduce himself when a doctor, who wasn't exactly in his first youth- or second, beat him to it and snagged the goddess to himself. Obadiah gave a laugh and handed him back his martini glass.

"Well that was fast. Better luck next time, old boy."

"What do you mean 'next time'? I steal girls away from geezers like them all the time."

"Yes I know. Because of your monetary stature and good looks I've seen you say 'Hey you, come with me' to a girl who's already taken while having others already hanging off your arms(2). You have it way easy, Tony. One day you're gonna meet a girl whose standards are too high for even you."

"I have and her name is Pepper, remember? But I don't think it'll come to that, Obie. She looks uncomfortable."

Obie glanced at the table and saw that Tony was right. The pretty young woman didn't look like she was having fun. Rather she looked like she was sitting with something that died two month ago. It was a wonder why no one else from the table seemed to notice. The icing of the cake, however, was when the man put his arm around the woman and said something so lame Tony and Obadiah had to roll their eyes. Scratch that, the icing was when the woman threw a bowlful of sugar at the man. Tony hadn't been that amused in a while.

"There's your cue." Said Obadiah and took Tony's glass again.

Tony walked over with a smirk.

"That was some show you made." He told her and watched her twirl around to face him. She looked even more beautiful up close. Taking a closer look at her he saw that her almond-shaped green eyes were slightly slanted, giving her a unique feline look.

"Chivalry is dead. A girl has got to do what a girl has got to do in a world with no gentlemen." She said with no humor in her British accented voice. It was clear that she didn't like being disrespected. Made her even cuter in Tony's book.

"Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries." He introduced expecting her to start spluttering, then flirting, like any other woman that didn't recognize him straight away. When she didn't he was only mildly surprised. She was a lady after all.

"And what might be the name this delicately gorgeous young lady?" He prompted, feeling curious. She's probably the daughter of some rich snooty businessman so he should recognize her last name.

"Lady Helena Potter, an aristocrat and a biologist."

Okay, he wasn't expecting that. When he said lady he didn't mean literally.

"And he still treated you like that?" The temporarily tongue-tied Tony said when nothing else seemed to come up.

"Maybe he would not have, had he actually had the tact to ask for my name."

"His loss then, I suppose." 'And my gain' Tony grinned after regaining his cool.

"If you mean his loss about having a conversation about pathology, then yes, but no if you mean about bedding me." Helena's eyes narrowed. Fiery.

"About the conversation, of course."

Smooth lie, Tony had every intention of bedding this little vixen tonight himself.

"Would you like to have a drink with me?"

"I can't drink."

Tony raised an eyebrow. What was she a heath nut? One drink won't kill anyone.

"I'm twenty."

Ah, so that's it.

"Oh, what can one drink do? I'm buying."

And she smiled.

"That's very generous of you Mr. Stark, but I'm still going to have to decline."

"What are we on a business deal? Call me Tony, no need to be so formal, this is a party not a funeral. So, as you insist on not drinking, how about a dance with me."

"That sounds pleasant, Mr. Stark. I mean Tony."

They ended up dancing until it was time for the entertainment to start. Tony invited Helena to sit on his reserved table, with Obadiah and him. She seemed happy to accept. She hit it off quite well with Obadiah too. In a platonic way. And that was the problem. She seemed to be platonic with everybody, including Tony. In fact he was starting to doubt whether he would actually be able to get laid tonight.

She was interesting to talk to though. Because since she was a botanist he doubted she understood anything about design. He was wrong. It amazed Tony how different but similar his area of expertise and hers can be. While his designs were very specific and you have to know exactly what to do, the risk factor only came in when the actual testing came in. That was true on her field as well, however unlike in technology you can't be 100% sure how your design can turn out. While in technology you'll either fail or succeed, in botany it can be anything in between, because you can never be sure what happens next as the newly bred plant grows and matures no matter how good your math is, hence the risk always there. And that's only the first part, what you can concoct from the produce is a different era altogether.

One thing became very clear to both Obadiah and Tony: Helena was just as brilliant with plants as he was with technology.

Obadiah, being ever-curious about abroad upperclassmen, couldn't help but ask.

"So, is there a Lord Potter somewhere? I would think a father would feel very protective if their daughter was such a beauty."

"Of course there is, Mr. Stane. He's back at England, six feet under along with my mother. Just as they have been for the past nineteen years."

Obadiah looked as uncomfortable as Tony felt, but still couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"What happened?"

Way to go Obie! Tony glowered, but Helena didn't look offended.

"Assassination: gas explosion."

"That's an interesting necklace." Tony said, desperate to change the subject.

"Thank you, Tony. I designed it myself." Helena said with a smile.

"I thought you were into botany." Obadiah said in confusion.

"I am." She replied with a smile.

Obadiah and Tony took a closer look at the necklace. It was a plant! It was a red branch that grew out of a small pot disguised as a big ruby. The branch was snaked around her neck and the tip was curled around the base where it grew out of. The branch had barbs, all of which seemed to grow on one side as not to blemish her skin.

"She likes skin heat, but doesn't like being touched." Helena explained the odd way the barbs seemed to grow.

"Unlike a lot of other plants, she doesn't get scared easily, so if you get too close, it'll actually try to sting you."

Being curious, Tony moved his hand close. The plant twitched, but couldn't quite reach his hand.

"That's impressive, Lady Helena. You could make quite a profit for yourself if you let it to the ma…" Obadiah was cut off.

"No." She said adamantly. At the look of surprise that crossed his face she explained.

"As you may have guessed, I'm a bit of a tree-hugger. As pretty as these jewelry-plants are, they're also rather delicate. An average person couldn't take care of them and I don't want to sell them as a one-time jewelry."

The party carried on and soon the glow of the dawn could be seen. A lot of money had been donated, champagne drunk, food eaten and sex had. Except for Tony. He was however quite amazed at how good of a time one can have without it involving the exchange of bodily fluids. But that didn't mean he didn't want to get her into his bed. So he invited her to his place.

"That's very kind of you, Tony, but I'm tired and I'd like to go home."

Translation: I will not have sex with you tonight. Damn.

"Of course. Can I have your number?"

Tony was surprised that he actually had to ask. Usually women would slip him their numbers all by themselves.

"Yes, I suppose you can, Tony." Helena said with a smile.

"Great. So… goodnight Helena."

Tony leaned to kiss her, but Helena turned her head.

"Wait! Before you get any ideas, Tony. I don't do one-night stands. I don't approve of infidelity either."

With that she sat in her limo and drove off. Looking behind him he saw the wide-eyed multi-billionaire standing in a stunned stillness. Helena let out a giggle and turned to sit normally.

"Did mistress have fun, mistress?" Kreatcher asked from behind the wheel.

"I must admit, Kreatcher, I'm thoroughly glad I went out tonight."

That Stark was definitely a fine human specimen. Although Harry would never date a guy with commitment issues, after meeting Tony he had to ask himself a question: why did he ever doubt whether he wanted to be a mummy or not?

(1) - That's actually canon. Rowling said that Harry wasn't bad at sports, but because of Dudley he always got picked last.

(2) – Look at Ironman's deleted scenes. It actually happened.

Word count: 5726

Thank you for reading.