ARC II

- 02 -

Reginald Whyte

Tony surveyed the man in front of him with a steely gaze. Chestnut hair, bushy eyebrows, rhodium grey eyes and a frame that was most definitely taller than his. He looked aristocratic and "agenty". He had been in the presence of Director Fury enough to get a whiff of what bureaucratic whipping-boy spy felt like. That and the crisp suit that Reginald Whyte had on was enough to put Tony off. He had things to say to this man. Plenty of them started with the words: "Why the hell-" or some other four lettered variations. He did try not to swear. He found insults could be best dished out without vulgarity. However, in this case some profanity was warranted.

"Interesting place you have here," Tony said as he came closer to the man. "Has a real 'old world' and 'neighbourhood that will kill' written all over it."

The Snake and Badger was a pub apparently owned by Whyte. The old building close to the heart of London at the crossroads of one of the more volatile neighbourhood's in the city. It was here that the billionaire was directed to meet the owner in their brief three-in-the-morning call. Reginald took a sip of whatever he had in his mug. The man gave him a pointed look as Tony sat down across from him.

To his credit, Reginald asked simply: "Coffee Mr. Stark?"

Tony made a face. Last time he was here, the sludge they considered coffee nearly upturned the contents of his stomach. "Whisky and that will be good."

An aristocratic brow went up before the man nodded. Pulling out what seemed to be a stick? The man proceeded to shock Tony to the core. Physics was waived in favour of a stick waving weirdo. Before him an intricate drinking glass formed in front of him. While a bottle that came from a nearby shelf floated their way, uncorking as it did so and a couple shots of brass-tinged whisky poured itself in the conjured glass. The bottle set itself on the table, Firewhisky on the label. The billionaire blinked at the man in front of him before picking up the glass. He stared at it, twirling it about in his hand.

"Fascinating," Tony muttered. Words racing through his mind like biologically occurring inert energy manipulation. "Do you do this with every person you meet or this is just British for manners?"

"Go with the one that makes you feel better," Reginald finally retorted. "Seeing as we are here to discuss your family and furthermore confidential information that you have acquired and now pose as a danger not only to yourself but also to my charges."

"Funny you say that." Tony remarked. "You took seven years before getting my son out of that hellhole."

"Not quite," Reginald retorted. "I have always been in your son's life and his sister's. It was more a matter of figuring out what to do with certain persons who are also just as invested in your family as we are."

Here Tony paused and looked at the man before him before taking a sip of the whisky. Burning heat raced through his throat and up to his head. He felt momentarily ablaze, nearly spitting out his drink before clamping down and giving a loud grunt.

"It is quite strong." Reginald stated.

"Not at all," Tony managed to gasp as he downed another sip. Heat went up through his face and it felt as if he was expelling fire as he let out another huff of discomfort. Pride wouldn't let him say anything different. "It's refreshing. Now tell me details."

The other man seemed to sigh. "Where would you like to begin?"

"Where is my son's mother?" Tony asked immediately.

"Always the harder questions," Reginald muttered as he looked at Tony carefully. "What do you remember of Lily?"

Tony blinked, pursed his lips before replying. "It's fuzzy. I have no records of a Lily Evans past her tenth birthday other than what was listed in the obituary I could find of her parents. There is also no death certificate on file or any pictures of her I can find. Petunia was convinced enough that she had died though if I go by the reports Dursley gave."

"I see," Here Reginald took a sip of his drink before proceeding with an explanation. "In my line of work, there are people with extraordinary gifts. These people live in an entirely separate sphere of societal isolation, people who call themselves magicals. Lily was one of these persons. It may be that she was able to alter your memory so you could forget her in a way to protect you from people like her."

"Magical, huh, like yourself." Tony stated, (he privately didn't want to reveal how uncomfortable he was that someone could alter his mind or had "magic") the other man nodded. "Still, doesn't answer my first question Reggie."

The other man pursed his lips. "Lily, she unfortunately died while protecting her family from the head of a xenophobic – what you could call – terrorist cell."

The billionaire responded by taking a shot of his drink as his mind worked through the information he had received. Given his personal vendetta against terrorism, hearing the woman who bore his child into the world was killed by them left a bitter taste in his mouth. "What were they after?"

"Execution," Reginald replied swiftly. "Their leader Thomas Riddle Junior, also went by the name Voldemort and considered a Dark Lord (Tony noted the bitterness the last couple of words were spoken from the man) was a magical who sought supremacy over a certain portion of Europe. His group called themselves Death Eaters."

"Voldemort, sounds like bad cheese." Tony retorted effortlessly. "So why target Lily?"

"We are still not certain." Reginald stated.

"MACUSA," Tony mused. "That's the group you're part of."

"Not quite. I work as a consultant liaison if you will between MACUSA and other governments tracking magical threats. That particular group is the magical government stateside." Mr. Whyte stated. "The rest of what I do is confidential. Of course, I doubt that will stop you from gathering as much Intel as you can. I must say your invention JARVIS is masterful work. Should you have gone to my old school, I do believe you would not be wearing red and gold. As by your tie, blue and silver suit you."

"Thanks," Tony said, he picked up more of the Firewhisky and poured himself another shot of the stuff. It was good, he wondered if he could branch out and sell a form of this to the masses. "He's not just an invention. Now tell me what you can about my son? Why did it take you so long to get to him?"

Reginald smiled softly. "Harry, he's a good boy, brilliant. He does not trust easily but knowing his past, it is also understandable." Here he took another sip of his tea. "Would you mind continuing this conversation over a meal Mr. Stark? It is past my normal time for lunch."

The billionaire murmured an agreement. He then proceeded to listen to the man in front of him answer a number of questions he had. He found out that the man in front of him was unable to directly care for Harry or Harry's sister, Viola. "Binding magical contract prevents me from 'meddling' in greater political matters in the magical world."

Apparently Lily had married into an old family: "the Potters are a prominent family having been around since the twelfth century" that had quite the political clout. However, that power had diminished since the civil war within the European magical communities. If Reginald had interfered in the care of Harry in any way; he would have been shipped off to what was the equivalent of Alcatraz for the magical community.

The other guardian looking after the Potter's well-being ("Ah, the elusive Frank Brown," Tony had muttered. "The military man") had also unable to directly care for Harry due to his line of work. Plus as his status was that of a non-blood-related carer and a non-magical one too; certain magical political bodies would have made it nigh impossible for Harry and his sister to be placed with him. It wasn't for lack of trying. The pair had been at a stand-still until they could figure out the loopholes they could play with to ensure that the Potter siblings at least were aware of people who did care for them as much as possible. Sadly, what little aid Reginald had given was only enough to assist the Potters escape from a burning house in Surrey.

"So how deep does this contract bind you from helping me get further information on this world Lily was a part of and if any of those members from Riddle's days try going after us?" Tony asked. Here the other man smirked.

"While the information I am giving you is not quite public record, seeing as your line of questioning for the past two hours have been intent on protecting the 'Boy-Who-Lived'," Reginald took a sip of the Pinot Grigio he had procured for their impromptu lunch. "Loopholes are quite well within my right to play with. It is a bonus that you are the secret biological father no one knows about. A card I fully intend on using against certain magical political fronts that have every intention of manipulating the last line of Potter."

Tony was quite certain he liked the man, oddly enough for being an aristocratic, sly, sneaky bastard. Of course, the billionaire was going to have to consider his next course of action. His son from what he had gathered was a budding genius; Harry had been able to create an entire replica down to the last detail of Big Ben from memory alone using Lego blocks when he was seven. However, the boy had issues with authority and 'playing nice' according to Reginald.

"It's in his genes." Tony uttered proudly upon hearing that.

"He is a valuable player in a larger game Mr. Stark ("Tony", the brunette interjected) and a dangerous one at that." Reginald sighed. "He is a child yes, a genius even as well as brave. The same could be said of his sister Viola. The both of them have not had the easiest or best childhood. They will need care, love and support. Will you be able to commit to doing this? The reason why I even am here is because of this."

As if he had been waiting for this moment for the past couple of hours the men had spoken. The aristocratic "magical" placed an envelope on the table and passed it forwards. Feminine writing graced the front with Tony's name. He blinked, reaching for it.

"I suggest you read the contents of this package when you retire for the evening. Tomorrow, I will take you to a place where you may possibly observe your son before meeting him."

Tony blinked again, silently regarding both the envelope and the aristocrat before him. While it had been his intent to meet his son almost immediately as he got off the plane; a tiny part of him wished to procrastinate a little. "Thank you Reggie." He finally uttered. What other words could he use? Thankfulness was something he had learned over the past few weeks. Having been hit with plenty of information bombs, Tony couldn't help but remain still and quiet as his mind processed the data dump that had been loaded upon him.

He reached out for the envelope before him. He wasn't prepared for what he'd find yet like with everything he undertook – he took it all in with the confidence born from facing down fear in impossible circumstances.

000

May 29, 2001

Dearest Tony,

If you are reading this then we have perished and my sister has managed a way for you to receive this letter. I know it is a sorry excuse to explain things unless you have been able to break through my memory alteration then perhaps you'll have some understanding. If not; then I hope by reading this it will jar some of the work I've done upon you. Not to worry, no aliens or the type of technology you were comfortable with was implemented in the process. Understandably not a consolation prize by any means, it's the best I could come up with under duress.

Author's Note: Merry Christmas! I do hope you enjoyed that despite how short it is. Thanks again for the reviews and follows and faves. Appreciate every time y'all drop me kind words. See you soon!