3 – Taken

He awoke with a groan as he felt the blankets being torn off the bed and light streaming through the window. He rubbed his forehead, letting out a soft moan. Holding his hand over his eyes to block out the sun light, he spoke hoarsely, "close the blinds, would you?" he rasped. Hermione snorted and closed the door. Loudly. He rubbed his head once more, groaning at the noise.

"J," he began, about to roll over and bury his head in the pillow. The metallic voice responded as he fluffed the soft feather back up and slammed his head back once more. "yes sir?", his artificial assistant asked, responsive as ever. He smiled at the thought of the dependable machine. "Do me a favour pal, close the blinds".

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir" the Artificial butler told him. With a snap, his head shot off the pillow. Suddenly awake, he leaped off the bed. As he made his way towards the bedroom door, he was fuming. "Why not?", he asked the machine. Jarvis continued; voice as calm as ever.

"Miss Potts instructed me not to let you go back to sleep sir. She threatened to switch me off while you are away if I challenged her authority". Despite the annoyance, he chuckled. That definitely sounded like something Hermione would have threatened the A.I with. It also sounded like something she would do. He couldn't really blame his artificial friend, with odds like those. Wait? While he was away? He frowned.

"Jarvis?", he began slowly, now confused, staring at the door, before casting his eye around the room. Lying on the end of the bed, where it had clearly been set out for him was a crisply laundered black suit jacket, shirt and pants with a maroon tie. "am I going somewhere?" he asked the machine. Jarvis' dulcet tones were quick to reply.

"Yes sir," he replied helpfully, "the presentation of the Jericho is today. You will be driving to the airport, and then flying non-stop to Afghanistan. Miss Potts accurately predicted that you would forget however. Hence her assistance on waking you, sir. You are officially running late for the plane." He shrugged as he headed for the shower adjoining his room.

"my plane, my rules. 'On time' is whenever I get on". For several moments, there was no answer as he prepared the water for the shower. Finally, the reply came.

"But sir," Jarvis replied, and Harry could almost picture a frowning face as he spoke, "the generals are all already there. The military pays a good deal to Stark Enterprises, the least you can do is show up on time to meet them, surely – "he shrugged as he climbed into the shower, cutting the machine off.

"Grow a spine Jarvis. Learn to have a bit of fun, or I'll put you on mute" the reprimand seemed to have the desired effect. Jarvis fell silent, and offered no more complaints. An hour later, he was dressed, out of his room and ready to go. Hermione's stern gaze met his own as he closed the door. He smiled charmingly at her.

"alright there, miss Potts?" he asked, as Edwin shuffled about the house, clearing the clutter and softly whistling to himself. Hermione's glare deepened. She strode forwards, shoving a tablet into his chest. "the specs on the Jericho," she explained as he raised a questioning eyebrow, "Dean's waiting on you. Shield decided Stark needed more security after the last couple of attempts against you, and decided to send him". Harry smiled; it had been a while since he'd seen the other former Gryffindor. The chance to catch up would be a welcomed one. He told her as such, but she simply continued glaring.

"You need to start taking your role more seriously Harry," she began, her glare softening slightly as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder "I know it's hard to hear this, but being Tony Stark isn't just an excuse to throw parties, waste money, get hammered and date movie stars. This can't all be fun and games anymore. You have responsibilities now". Harry glared at her as he snorted at her words.

"Oh really? I didn't know that Hermione. I forgot, you're the only one who knows anything about responsibility, aren't you? After all, saving an entire world was just 'fun and games'!" with that he stepped past her, storming towards the door as he called for Neville to tell the other man goodbye. He hesitated at the door, looking back at Hermione. He shook his head in annoyance.

"She'd be ashamed of this, you know?" Hermione whispered. With that, any apology that might have been coming died on his lips. He closed his mouth, turned back around, and slammed the door. He climbed into the Maserati, and tore fiercely out of the garage, and down the street. Jarvis' urgent reminders that he was speeding were ignored, before he switched him off completely for some peace and quiet.

Ten minutes later, he was at the airport. His private jet sat proudly in front of him on the tarmac as he climbed out of the car, grabbing his sunglasses out of the dashboard, and sticking them in his front pocket. He stalked fuming towards the plane. Dean was glaring at him as he stepped out of the car, but the look on his face as he reached the stairs silenced any criticism. He stepped past his old friend.

"Let's get this bird in the air," he told the pilot, who nodded with a simple 'Mr. Stark' in greeting. Harry fell into an armchair, Dean taking the one next to him. His fellow wizard looked worryingly at him for several moments before grabbing a bottle and two glasses from one of the cupboards above them. Silently flicking his wand, he poured out both glasses before pushing one into his hand.

Harry took it with a simple nod as thanks. Dean shrugged before nodding in return as he sat back down. It was only when they finished that he finally spoke. "What happened?" he asked, waiting silently for the answer. At first, harry refused to meet his gaze. He stared at the clouds outside the window before sighing slightly.

"I – admittedly – drank to much last night. I had a hangover, and I was late waking up this morning. In my defence," here, he cast a glance at Dean, daring him to contradict or complain about his arrival time, "I had honestly forgotten about the presentation time. I thought we were flying out in the afternoon. She started abusing me when I walked out of my room after getting ready, told me I was treating everything like a game. Said I had responsibilities now". Dean flinched at that, seemingly realised where the story was going. The other man slowly flicked his wand, poring another glass each, this time only half full.

"Thanks," harry murmured, offering a proper thank you this time, his friend nodded, smiling slightly.

"Let me guess," Dean began, smirking slightly, "you snapped at her about the war?" Harry nodded warily as he finished his drink, flicking his own wand to wash and return the glass. He let out a soft huff as he stretched his legs out before him.

"I meant to apologise immediately, but she said something afterwards that made me think better of it. Maybe after we get home and we've both had time to sleep on what was said". He shrugged, placing his hands behind his head as he stared at the roof of the plane.

Dean nodded, knowing better then to question him. The rest of the plane ride passed in relative silence, with the two friends only speaking occasionally to ask the other how life had been treating the other in his absence. Harry chuckled at the tales of Dean's shield exploits, including one he mentioned briefly, referring to it only as 'Budapest'. Harry had been intrigued, but on that particular mission, the spy would say no more.

A few hours later, he was stood in the desserts of Afghanistan with the sun beating down on him only slightly off-set by a discreet cooling charm. He stood in front of a group of military representatives, each hanging onto his every word.

"Is it better to be feared, or respected? Now, I say, is it too much to ask for both?" Outwardly, he remained calm, but inside he was beaming, he had them. He could tell by the looks on their faces. Unbidden, something Edwin had once told him came floating back to mind, always, whenever possible, lead with a rhetorical question, helps put them at ease, but gets them thinking.

"With that in mind, I humbly present the crown jewel of Stark Industries' freedom line. It's the first missile system to incorporate our proprietary repulsor technology. They say the best weapon is one you never have to fire! I respectfully disagree; I prefer the weapon you only have to fire once! That's how dad did it, that's how America does it – and it's worked out pretty well so far. Find an excuse to let one of these off the chain, and I personally guarantee the bad guys wont even want to come out of their caves. The explosion behind was deafening, as was the massive shockwave that launched across the landscape, knocking several hats off of heads. A little bit of discreet magic to spruce things up didn't really hurt either.

Had he known what would come afterwards, after ensuring Obie of an early Christmas, he might have hesitated as he made his way down the track towards the line of vehicles. Had he known how his life was about to change, perhaps he wouldn't have forced Dean to ride in another Humvee. Perhaps, but probably not. There wasn't much he would trade the life he was about to step into for. That day, and the days immediately proceeding it may have been difficult, and there had been many more after, but life had never been simple for Harry Potter; why should any different be said of Tony Stark?

And so, there he sat in the Humvee, surrounded by soldiers as they drove down the road along with the rest of the convoy. In his hand was a glass of fire whiskey, though the soldiers around him would never know it. The burning liquid wasn't the best tasting alcohol in the world, but it was a good reminder of the world he had come from, and the person he had been. The silence was deafening as he shrilled the glass, drowning the last of the liquid in a single gulp.

"So, is it just me," he began, looking out the window at the dead vegetation, at the soldier across from him throwing furtive glances, and then out the front, "or are we passing some sort of hellscape? Wouldn't know it by the look of things", despite his – admittedly, very bad – attempt at humour, the soldiers remained silent, though one did crack a smile. Harry sighed.

"I feel like you're driving me to a court martial, this is crazy, what'd I do?" after Hermione, he just wanted any sort of conversation, to take the edge off things and empty his mind of the anger and guilt, he continued "I feel like you're gonna pull over and snuff me? What, you're not allowed to talk? Hey Forrest!" He shouted at the young man beside him. He'd watched Forrest Gump with Ed and Neville a few months before and loved it. Man of few words, that Gump.

"We can talk sir" thank Merlin for that then. He pored another glass, listening to the AC/DC blaring from the stereo on the floor in front of him.

"Oh. I See. So, it's Personal?"

"No, you intimidate them"

He blinked. "Good God, you're a woman. I Honestly, under the helmet, I couldn't have called that. I mean, I'd apologise, but isn't that what we're going for here?" thoughts of Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, Professor Mcgonagall, Bellatrix Lestrange, Ginny, and Hermione flashed through his mind. All soldiers, all equally as dangerous as their male counterparts.

"I thought of you as a soldier first", he told her, watching her carefully as he waited for a response. When it came, it was swift, blunt, and to the point. As expected of a soldier.

"I'm an airman" he cast an appraising eye over her briefly. He nodded slowly. If she had been a witch, he could easily picture her zipping around a quidditch pitch on a broom. She had the build for it.

"Well you have actually excellent bone structure there. I'm kind of having a hard time not looking at you now. Is that weird?" the airman laughed, smile reaching her eyes, and the man in front grinned. The kid laughed awkwardly, as though he still wasn't sure it was allowed. Harry glanced at him, smiling slightly.

"It's okay laugh," he told him. "Hey," he shouted happily as the kid's expression seemed to loosen up considerably.

The man in front turned to him, as though trying to take his attention off of the kid, "Sir, I have a question" he began. With a simple gesture, Harry motioned for him to continue. "Is it true you went twelve for twelve with last year's maxim cover models?"

Harry smirked slightly at the memories before answering, though the smile didn't quite meet his eyes. "That is an excellent question," he began, still smirking as he removed his sunglasses to look at the other man properly. "yes and no. March and I had a scheduling conflict, but December was twins". The story wasn't entirely true; he had been the one to cancel on march. Her red hair and looks had brought up too many bad memories.

"Anything else?" the kid beside him awkwardly raised one hand. Harry internally groaned as he rolled his eyes. Really, what was this, primary school? What were they teaching these soldiers out here? "you're kidding me with the hand up, right?" the kid blushed slightly, but continued.

"is it cool if I take a picture with you?" Harry pretended to think about it for a few moments before answering, smiling as he did so.

"Yes, it's very cool", he told the kid. With a happy grin, the kid unstrapped a small handheld camera from his side, passing it forward to the man in front. Printed on one side near the top in small black block letters were two words: Stark industries. "Hey, look at that," Harry began, "brand recognition. Thanks. That's nice, by the way. Well done," he and the kid tilted their heads to the side as the other soldier held the camera up. "I don't want to see this on your myspace page," Harry stated, only half joking. The amount of times his own face had popped up on other people's social media was starting to get a little bizarre.

The kid held up a peace time between them. Harry decided to have a little fun, "Please, no gang signs", he requested in a deadpan tone. The kid hastily pulled his hand down, smiling, harry placed a hand on his shoulder, before discreetly raising bunny ears behind the kid's helmet. The older soldier bit his tongue to avoid laughing, which instead came out as a choked cough. "No throw it up, I'm kidding. Yeah, peace. I love peace. I'd be out of a job with peace."

No sooner had they taken the picture then the Humvee in front was rocked by an explosion. The soldiers hastily stepped out to defend him, instructing the inventor to stay were he was. Harry looked around in a wild panic, before realising he'd left his wand on the plane. He swore. He could do simple wandless charms, but complex martial magic? No chance. As the kid was cut down by gunfire, and holes pilfered one side of the van, Harry began to feel claustrophobic. He hastily staggered out of the Humvee.

Diving behind a rock, he quickly removed his Starkphone from his pocket and switched the device on. There was a single bar staring him in the face. A signal, but a weak one. Flicking through contacts, he struck 'JARVIS' with his thumb. Just as he was about to speak, a missile landed in the ground by his side. A missile with his name on. With a start, he leaped back, but was still caught in the explosion. Thrown off his feet he landed on the dirt about a few metres away.

With a groan, he felt a strange stinging sensation in his chest. Looking down, he saw blood beginning to stain his chest. He pushed the collar back, only to find his bullet proof vest underneath shredded in several pieces. He felt himself loose consciousness, and with his last thoughts on his friends back home, let his head hit the dirt once more. With that, he knew no more.