Okay, so this is set after Homecoming but before Infinity War. How does Peter and Tony know Strange, you ask. Well, let's just say they've crossed paths before.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN 'BY YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHERE HE IS'?!" Tony Stark raged at the sorcerer who was looking far too calm in his opinion. He had come to pick up his mentee, who he does not see as a son at all (no matter what Pepper or Rhodey say), so that they could spend the rest of the day hanging around in the workshop, watching movies or do whatever enhanced spiderlings do when he was informed that said enhanced spiderling had disappeared.

"Exactly, what I said the first three times, Stark," Strange snapped at the fuming billionaire, "Peter touched a stone that transported him and his friends to an alternate reality. To track his physical form down is near impossible."

"WHY DID YOU EVEN PUT THAT GOD-FORSAKEN STONE IN THE SAME ROOM AS THREE TEENAGERS WHO ARE FAR TOO CURIOUS FOR THEIR OWN GOOD AND wait what do you mean by 'physical form'?" Tony trailed off from his rant as Stephen exhaled deeply with closed eyes and a tired expression.

"As I was trying to say before you decided to interrupt, was that I am able to connect with his astral form, or soul, if you will. Once I locate that, I would be able to pinpoint exactly which universe he is in."

"Great, Doc," Tony replied mock-cheerfully, "once you do that, all that we need to do next is call up Doctor Who and ask him if we could take his TARDIS for a spin."

"Stark," Stephen drawled, glaring.

"What," Tony snapped with a glower of his own, "the kids got school tomorrow and his aunt comes back to Queens as well and if she finds out I lost Peter because he went on some universe hopping adventure, the next time you'll hear of the name 'Tony Stark' will be at my funeral." His face paled as if he was having war flashbacks to the time May Parker found out about Peter's extra-curriculars. That woman can sure make your life flash before your eyes.

"Of course, it may take a while to actually travel to the universe he is in," Strange said, "especially as there are so little scriptures; alternative realities are all very theoretical."

Tony looked sceptic until he was suddenly hit by an idea, "Maybe on Earth it is."

"Whatever do you mean?" Strange sighed in exasperation.

"I'm just saying that we might be able to get a bit of help from a close friend of mine," Tony smirked as the crackling sound of a lightning bolt resonated through the room.

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..…...

"And that's the story of how I found out that I could hold Thor's hammer," Peter finished as the Golden Trio burst into hysterics.

"Oh, oh my Merlin," Ron wheezed, clutching his sides as tears of laughter streamed down his face, "that was hilarious."

"But not as hilarious as the one where you and the Black Panther's sister teamed up with the God of Mischief to prank the Avengers," Harry added with every other word punctuated with giggles.

"I may have lost my lab privileges for three days but the look on Mr Stark's face when he realised that F.R.I.D.A.Y was programed to only respond in vines was totally worth it," Peter stated, grinning at the memory.

"But you guys have some pretty awesome stories yourself," Ned pointed out, "I mean the one where Fred and George charmed all of the cutlery in the Great Hall to start singing 'Be Our Guest' was incredible."

"Or the one where all of the half-bloods and muggleborns spent an entire day speaking in Pig Latin," Peter added, "although, the 'Great Hogwarts Food Fight of 1995' is my personal favourite. They're banned in the tower."

"Yeah," Ned said, "only because you always cheat by using your spidey-sense to dodge everything. And you always stick to the ceiling as well."

"Also, I would just like to add," Ron began, turning his head towards MJ, "you scare me."

MJ narrowed her eyes and then tilted her head, as if she was contemplating her answer, before fixing him with an intense glare for a few seconds then shrugged and went back to her book, "Good."

Hermione glanced at the clock, "I think that we should go to bed now."

All the boys groaned in unison.

"Why 'Mione," Ron whined, "it's not like we're going to lessons anyway."

"Because Ronald," Hermione countered, "we'll have to wake up early incase the professors find a solution and, knowing you boys, if you stay up any later, you'll probably sleep the entire day."

"What, and miss out hanging around with these lot," Ron asked incredulously, Hermione sent him a look, "alright, alright, we'll head in."

They all went to their respective beds, having already changed into pyjamas earlier during their storytelling session. Just as Peter's head fell onto the soft pillow and sleep began to overcome him, through his drowsiness, he heard a voice say "Nox."

"Kill the spare!"

"NO!"

Harry scrambled his way to Cedric's cold, lifeless body, "C'mon Cedric, don't be dead. C'mon no, CEDRIC PLEASE!"

"He won't wake up, Potter," snarled Voldemort, blood red eyes glinting in delight at Harry's fear, "not thanks to you."

"What," Harry gasped, "No, I didn't-"

"Tell me, Potter," Voldemort hissed, "how many more people will die for you?"

The fog around the graveyard cleared to reveal Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny standing with masked Death Eaters holding wands at their necks.

"How many more will suffer for you."

"OI, no-nose," Ron exclaimed, "if you want to kill Harry, you'd have to get through me first."

The Dark Lord waved his hand towards the red-head in a bored manner, as if saying 'go on'.

Ron's face twisted in pain as he fell to the floor with an agonising strangled scream, his limbs writhing in agony, an exact re-enactment of the tortured spider on Moody's - well, Barty Crouch Jr's - desk, before going completely still, his eyes turning glassy and his face white. Hermione screamed "RON!" at the sight of his corpse.

Harry woke up with a start, perspiration streaming down his face. Panting, he clutched onto the bedframe and shakily pulled himself out of bed. After thrusting his glasses onto his face, he swiftly and silently made his way into the bathroom. He splashed water onto is face before taking in his haggard reflection. 'God, I'm so pathetic,' he thought.

"Bad dream?" a soft voice called out to him in concern, which caused Harry to jump back in shock and immediately turn towards the voice with his wand stretched out and his heart in his mouth. Wide, tear-stained emerald eyes met with large chocolate ones. Standing awkwardly at the bathroom doorway was Peter Parker, an actual superhero that he spent his childhood looking up to, fiddling with the too-long-for-his-arms linen sleeve of his Spider-Man pyjama shirt - oh, that caused more than a few sniggers when he came out of the bathroom dressed in those. The wizard untensed, but not entirely, and slowly lowered his wand.

"Uh, yeah, I mean, um, yeah," Harry whispered, trailing of at the end, so that he didn't wake any of the other occupants - not that he needed to speak loudly anyways, considering who he was talking to. "I'm sorry. I, um, didn't mean to wake you."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Peter replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm a really light sleeper. Kind of side affect of being bitten by a radioactive spider."

"Right, well, I suppose it is," Harry responded, "Not that I'd know. I mean, I can guess." Honestly, Potter. Can you be anymore awkward?

Peter hummed in agreement.

"It was about Cedric, wasn't it?" He asked quietly, averting his gaze to the wooden floor.

"What," Harry responded in confusion before adding, "oh, yeah, but how did you-" he cut himself off when he realised that of course Peter knew about that - he knows everything about Harry the same way knew everything about him. It's strange to think about really, that they're perfect strangers, never met each other before, yet they know every single detail about the other.

"You shouldn't blame yourself y'know," Peter said, "it wasn't your fault."

"But it is," Harry argued, "I could've done something. It was me that Voldemort wanted, not him."

"Yeah, I get what you mean," the other conceded, "If I did something, Ben would still be here."

"Peter, you shouldn't say that," Harry scolded lightly, "It was not you that killed your uncle. It was a mugger that shot him."

"But I just stood there when he was shot. I already had my powers, I could've pushed him out of the way, or jumped in front of him, or-or anything instead of just standing there and watching him die. That's something that will always be true."

"That's how I feel with Cedric. Do you know what Voldemort said before he died: 'Kill the spare' - the spare. The only reason that he was killed was because he wasn't me," Harry's voice was getting louder as he spoke. Peter's head snapped towards the direction of his sleeping peers when he heard a slight disturbance but Harry noted that it was just Ron turning over in bed, mumbling about tap-dancing spiders. He sighed, "God, I hate it."

"Me," he clarified when Peter looked at him and tilted his head in puzzlement, "being The Boy Who Lived. Everyone I know suffers in some way: my parents, Ginny, Cedric, who knows who else will later on. Even people who agree with me are being punished," he rubbed against the makeshift bandage on his scarred hand, "what's the point of being the Boy Who Lived if everyone else has to die?"

"It's same thing with me," Peter replied, "I have a thing with ruining lives as well."

"That's not true."

"Yes. Yes, it is. It's because of me that Ben died and now May's all alone. It's because of me that Liz had to leave and move to Oregon. It's because of me that people could've died when the Staten Island Ferry split. It's because of me that Ned and MJ are always worrying about me and it's because of me that we're all stuck here in here in the first place!"

They both stood there in silence for a while, before Harry began to laugh softly under his breath.

"What?" Peter asked.

"Look at us," he replied, gesturing between the two of them, "we make a right pair, don't we?"

"Yep," Peter said, nodding his head and popping the p, "teenage orphans with guilt-complexes the size of Jupiter."

"I don't know how our friends deal with us."

"Neither do I. I'm just so lucky to have them." He paused, "I think we should head back before one of them notices that we're gone and think that we've gotten ourselves killed in the Forbidden Forest or something."

"Yeah."

Just as Peter turned to leave, he was stopped by Harry's voice calling his name quietly. When he looked at him, Harry asked, "So, these ... books. Do they tell you everything?"

"Well, most things," Peter shrugged.

"So, do they tell you about the future? About the war?"

Harry looked at Peter with such an intense gaze, green eyes almost glowing in the faint moonlight, that he couldn't look away, "About my future?"

"Umm." Peter hesitated. He could tell him everything about the future, about how he'll win the war and get married. How he'll have four children - but only three of them biologically because of course he considers Teddy Lupin a son - about how he'll stand on platform nine and three quarters nineteen years after he defeated Voldemort, not as a student, but as a proud, yet war-hardened, father who'll comfort his youngest son when he's scared of ending up in Slytherin. He could tell him all of that but...

"What about mine?" He found himself saying instead, "You know about my past, do those comic books tell you my future? Do I get married, have a family?"

Do I manage to live being Spider-Man, or do I constantly put myself and everyone I love in danger?

Harry paused, thinking of Gwen Stacy, the girl who Peter wasn't fast enough to catch, MJ, the girl Peter decided to spend the rest of his life with, and May - both the aunt who had to raise him all by himself, and the daughter that Peter wanted to raise but never had the chance to. But then again, it was clear that wherever this Peter Parker came from wasn't exactly like the comics he read back in primary school.

"I think it's best that we don't say anything," Peter stated with a strange mixture of certainty and nervousness.

"Yeah, you're right," Harry conceded. He was silent for a bit.

"You know, we had Spider-Man comic books in my primary school library. I used to read them all the time, thinking that he was amazing - dedicating his life saving people and never getting any recognition for it. His entire life was one trauma after the other yet he continued to spend his life looking out for the others, putting others before him. I used to sit there thinking that he was a hero."

Peter looked at him, collected his thoughts and said, "That's what Harry Potter was to me. He was this brave wizard who could do anything even when everyone hated him. Ben and May would read me the stories during my bedtime and I would just think that he was the bravest person ever - well, after Iron-man and the Avengers, of course."

The two of them stood in silence for a while before Harry said, "Goodnight Peter."

"Goodnight Harry."

...

"Oh, wait, Harry."

"Yeah."

"You might want to tell someone about those nightmares. I'm probably a big hypocrite by saying this but it might help."

A/N : Yes, I know that the first issue of The Spectacular Spider-Girl (Peter's daughter May 'Mayday' Parker) was released in 1998 as well as her debut in Spider-Man #418. But just for plot purposes, let it happen.
For those of you that haven't read the comics or don't know: May Parker was kidnapped, under orders of Norman Osborn, when she was just born after Mary Jane Parker gave birth to her. Peter and MJ were told that the baby was a stillborn and had no idea that the nurse was working under the Green Goblin. May was then killed by her kidnapper.
The Spectacular Spider-Girl series is basically an AU spin-off of what would've happened if May survived the kidnapping, where she grows up, gets spidey powers and fights crime like her dad. (I honestly love her so much)