Preface

His Deepest DesirePosted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/7463562.

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:

Gen

Fandom:

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Character:

Harry Potter, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Thor (Marvel), Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Lily Evans Potter, Albus Dumbledore

Additional Tags:

Dumbledore Bashing, slight ron bashing, Harry is Tony's son, And didn't have much of a childhood, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Character Death, mentions of depression, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con

Stats:

Published: 2016-07-12 Updated: 2020-06-30 Chapters: 12/? Words: 15552

His Deepest Desire

by nebula_nye

Summary

It was quite a nice Saturday when the letter from the very dead woman arrived.

When the Dursley's recieve a letter from Lily Potter stating that James isn't Harry's father, they immediately jump on the chance to get rid of him. Although, Tony Stark doesn't really seem like the worst person to live with.

Homecoming

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

This story begins on a Saturday

It had been a peaceful day up until a point (one we will touch on in a minute or so); one of those days where everyone woke up late, but happy and well rested. A day where it was most certainly too hot to go outside, and nearly too hot to be inside. So, the Dursleys laid around in the living room that fine Saturday, pretending there wasn't a boy locked up in his room upstairs, pretending that he wasn't there at all, and even, had never been there to begin with.

But yet, Harry Potter sat in his locked room, pushing his glasses up the sweaty bridge of his nose, wishing he were nearly anywhere else in the world. Harry Potter was, to say the least, very unhappy. He wasn't having the nice Saturday everyone else was having with the cool air and the television, but rather a sweltering day, bent over the homework he'd been assigned over the summer holidays.

Now, when the mail arrived on this fine Saturday is when the day became . . . not so fine.

Among the bills and catalogs, was a thick envelope addressed to Mrs. Petunia Dursley, written in emerald ink. The envelope was thick, for the paper inside wasn't the typical copy paper or loose-leaf notebook paper, but instead parchment, yellow and rather old looking. But the choice of stationary wasn't the truly extra-ordinary thing about this letter, but the fact that the letter had been written by a very dead woman by the name of Lily Potter. The letter written by the dead woman got stranger, however, as the contents revealed that her son was not her husband's son, but rather a bastard of Tony Stark. Upon reading this letter, Petunia Dursley, who was Mrs. Potter's sister, nearly fainted. She and her husband had raised the bastard son of one of the wealthiest men alive. Shock turned to anger, however, due to the fact that the man who had so willingly left the boy on her doorstep had claimed that she, Petunia Dursley, was the only and closest living relative the boy had left. This fact was one of the main reasons that she hadn't taken the child to an orphanage, as the wards she had been told protected her house did so because she was the closest relative the boy had. The anger stemmed from the fact that no wards had ever been on her house to protect her family, and therefore, Petunia had kept the boy for thirteen years for no reason at all.

After showing the letter to her husband, who had been reduced to a purple-faced mask of anger, they jointly agreed to book a trip to New York, primarily to pay Mr. Stark a visit and to, hopefully, rid themselves of the child.

The boy in question, Harry Potter, did not know of this plan. If he had known, he might not have been doing his homework, but perhaps laying on his bed, wondering what his father would think of him, and how his life would dramatically change over the next few days.

THIS IS A PAGE BREAK

The trip to New York had been extremely uneventful. Other than passengers complaining under their breath about how both Vernon and Dudley should be forced to purchase two seats, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Harry had been seated next to a quiet man who seemed very uneasy. After confiding in the man that this was his first time on a plane, and that he too was nervous, the man had smiled and introduced himself as Bruce. Bruce still didn't talk much throughout the flight, but did curiously glance at Harry every now and again, as if they had met somewhere and he couldn't quite place him.

After a rather boring eight hour flight and finding their luggage, Vernon ushered them out the door and into a cab that would take them to their hotel. While the suite they were staying in had two bedrooms, Harry was forced to sleep on the sofa as Dudley had demanded he have a room to himself. Harry was perfectly fine with this arrangement as Dudley tended to snore quite loudly, gladly taking the creaky sofa away from both of the bedrooms and sleeping soundly through the night.

The next morning was an affair in itself.

It was on this morning that Vernon and Petunia planned to take Harry to Stark Tower, claim he was Stark's son, and hopefully, make a profit. The family had packed the finest clothes they owned for the occasion, Petunia even purchasing a few items for Harry that actually fit. It was not a surprise, to say the least, that the boy was both quite shocked and intrigued by her sudden generosity. The clothes were obviously not as expensive and nice looking as the others, but they fit, and frankly, that was all Harry cared about.

Once again taking a cab, the Dursley family arrived at Stark Tower at exactly 9:00 a.m.. Immediately after entering the building, Vernon Dursley walked straight to the front desk and demanded in his thundering voice that he see Stark personally to discuss "A matter of great importance."

THIS IS ALSO A PAGE BREAK

"Sir, I've already told you, you may not speak to Mister Stark directly. I am, however, more than eager to relay your message to him," the redheaded woman-who had introduced herself as Pepper-spoke through a strained smile. This seemed to do nothing but make Mr. Dursley angrier, if possible.

"Well, if I can't see Stark personally, then I'd like to talk with someone of importance. Perhaps his lawyer?" The man spat out.

Pepper then dropped her smile and pressed her lips into a thin line, "Well, sir, as it so happens, you're speaking to the CEO of his company. Am I important enough for your time?"

Vernon paled, but didn't lose the anger in his voice, "I suppose." He cleared his throat and pointed a large finger to Harry, "That, is Tony Stark's son, and I would like him to be returned to his father, as soon as possible."

Pepper stared curiously at the boy before lacing her fingers together as she spoke, "Mr. Dursley, we get numerous claims of Stark's children a year. I do hope you realize we can't just take your word, we'll need him to take a paternity test, and even then, we might have to do some digging."

"THEN DO IT NOW!" he exclaimed, making the art on the walls shake. "I just want him gone."

Frowning, Pepper turned to Harry and gave him a once over. She couldn't deny it, the boy certainly had many of Tony's features. Sighing deeply, she stood and motioned for Harry to follow her, "Come on, let's take you to the labs."

Harry obediently followed her to the elevator, and remained quiet and sullen the entire ride. The doors slid open to reveal a lab that seemed to come straight from a movie screen. Holograms lit the room and occasionally bounced from screen to screen. His eyes widened as he recognized a familiar face, "Bruce?"

Both the man and Pepper turned to him, both of them surprised. Bruce smiled at the pair and waved them in, "Hello, Harry. I didn't expect to see you this soon, or even again, actually."

Harry gave an amused grin while Pepper spoke, "We need a paternity test done. Tony back yet?"

Bruce shook his head as he guided Harry to a medical table, "No, not yet. He told me he wouldn't be back until the end of the week."

Pepper shook her head, "Of course. I'm assuming you can handle this? I need to go keep a close eye on his . . . family." Receiving a nod, she turned on her heel and was back into the elevator in a flash.

Bruce turned around and grabbed a swab from the cabinet counter, "I'm going to swab the inside of your cheek, Harry. Open up."

The swabbing was very quick and once seemed satisfied, he placed the swab into a strange machine. Catching Harry's confused look, Bruce clarified for him, "This machine is run by JARVIS. It's going to compare your DNA to Tony's and tell us if you're actually his child."

Harry nodded thoughtfully and Bruce smiled at him, "So, did your parents bring you or . . ?"

"My aunt and uncle. I never knew my parents, they died when I was young. Or, my mom did, I suppose, if my dad's really Mr. Stark," Harry explained, not meeting Bruce's eyes.

The man frowned and the next few minutes were spent in silence. It was broken, however, by a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, "The boy is a match to Master Stark's, DNA, sir. Might I suggest calling Master Stark in on this matter?"

"No," Bruce said hurriedly, "Don't call him, he's working for once. Would you inform Pepper, though, and have the paperwork ready for her when it's needed?"

"Of course, sir."

"Thank you, JARVIS." Bruce glanced at the child next to him and gently put a hand on his shoulder, "Well, Harry, welcome home."

Chapter End Notes

Okay, so obviously I changed a bit of the canon, but because it's fictional, I can do that. Timelines are different, it's currently the end of June after Harry's fourth year. Yes, Cedric will come up and potentially become a bigger part of the story. The other chapters will also be less narrative, I promise. I was setting up the story in this chapter.

An Explaination

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry was in shock.

As Bruce led him back into the elevator, Harry's head spun. He no longer had to live with the Dursleys. After years of longing for a relative to swoop in and take him away, his fantasy had finally come to life. He should be happy, elated even; but instead, all Harry felt was dread. How was he supposed to explain everything that had happened to him? Should he tell them that his parents were murdered, died in a house fire, or in a car crash? Should he tell them the truth about Hogwarts and himself, or did he hide the fact that he was a wizard, who went to the finest wizarding school in Europe? Speaking of school, was he expected to return come fall, or transfer to an American wizarding school? Or a muggle school, for that matter? Was he supposed to tell his friends about his new parentage and his parent about his friends, or did he need to keep that a secret too?

Harry's face paled dramatically and a coldness flooded his body. He leaned against the side of the elevator for support. Closing his eyes, Harry took deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. Bruce noticed and put a warm hand on Harry's shoulder, speaking in a soft voice, "Harry, what's going on? Can you tell me what's bothering you?"

"Just a lot to process," he rushed out, sucking in a bit of air as he went. "Give me a minute, I'll be fine."

The elevator doors opened with a ding. Bruce guided Harry into Tony's currently unoccupied floor and onto a kitchen barstool. He waited patiently for Harry's breathing to even out before pulling up a barstool across from him. "Alright, can you talk now?"

Receiving a nod, Bruce continued, "Okay, now, I'm certainly not a psychiatrist, but I am rather good at listening. Will you tell me why you got so upset?"

Harry looked at Bruce with wide eyes that reflected respect. No one had asked how he was doing in a while, not truly, anyways. He shrugged, "I've just wanted to get away from them for so long now. But, now that it's actually happening, I'm not happy or excited, I'm completely terrified."

"Well, I'm guessing you don't want to say a last goodbye to them, then?" Bruce gave a half-hearted smile, "Frankly, I'd be nervous myself in this situation. Suddenly being thrown into a household isn't the easiest, especially one you were you don't know anyone. I promise you though, everyone here would go to the ends of the earth for you in time."

"Everyone here?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yeah, the team, the Avengers?" Bruce tried to clarify, only to be met with a confused stare. "Are you telling me you don't know anything about the Avengers? Captain America, Black Widow, Iron Man? The battle of New York last May?"

Harry shook his head, "Am I supposed to?"

"It would certainly make things a lot easier for me." Bruce sighed, "Come on, let's show you who you're living with."

PAGE BREAK

"So you really turn into that giant green bloke?"

Bruce sighed, "That's your first question? And yes, that's me. If you're uncomfortable with me here-"

"Why would I be uncomfortable? You're a good man that also happens to have bad anger issues, no big deal," Harry stated nonchalantly. "Besides, from what I've seen all of you have a bigger right to live here than I do." He paused and stared, transfixed upon the glowing screens around him. "This is insane, the American Flag has been frozen for seventy years? The arrow man just hit an alien without looking. Without looking! Iron Man can fly around and zap people seven ways from Sunday."

"Actually, it was only sixty-seven years, people tend to stretch it a bit," said a voice behind them.

Harry whipped around and there stood one of the tallest men he'd ever seen. The man smiled at first, put it faltered a bit as he turned to Bruce. "Tell me this isn't a recruit. The kid can't be older than twelve."

"I'm fourteen, thanks," Harry muttered under his breath, staring at the man. He was obviously Captain America, but it was hard to recognize him without the suit.

Bruce waved his hand as if chasing away a bad thought, "Oh, no. Not a recruit. Steve, this is Harry Potter, Tony's son. Harry, meet Steve."

"I didn't know Stark had a son," Steve said exasperatedly, although not unkindly as he held out his hand for Harry to shake.

"I didn't either, sir, not until about an hour or so ago," Harry replied as he shook hands. "I hope I won't be too much of a problem."

"You won't be a problem, I promise," Bruce repeated to him and then turned to Steve. "Tony doesn't even know yet, and we'd like to keep it this way for the time being. At least until he gets back from England."

Steve nodded, "Understood." The room fell into a semi-uncomfortable silence as the three of watched the battle unfold before them.

Harry looked around at the two men, "Why's he in England?"

"There's a town there, Little Hangleton, that had some strange activity going on. S.H.I.E.L.D. sent him to go check on it as he was the fastest. He's been there for about a week now, comes home Friday, he told me," Bruce answered.

There was a pause as thoughts whirled around in Harry's head. The other two seemed to sense it, as they both remained quiet and waited for a response. He swallowed thickly, "Did this strange activity have odd lights near a graveyard? Screams, maybe?" His voice betrayed him, starting strong but slowly tapering off into nothing more than a whisper.

Steve and Bruce shared a look. "Yeah, it did. Do you know something we should, Harry?"

Harry quickly shook his head. "No, just heard it on the news," he lied.

Pursing his lips, Bruce gestured behind him, "There's rooms down the hallway past the living area. Yours is the red door on the left. Why don't you grab a shower and we'll go out for lunch?"

Figuring that the man's question was meant more as a statement, Harry quickly made his way to where Bruce had directed him. Sure enough, there was a hallway with three doors, red and gold on the left, and just a red on the right. Quietly opening the door, Harry marveled at the room. An entire wall was nothing but a window that displayed the New York skyline. The room itself was spacious; so big, in fact, it made him uneasy. His small, sad bag of belongings had been brought up, along with a note that said his other things would be sent along at a later date.
Harry laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, recounting in his head what had already taken place that day.

He had a living father. His father was a muggle, who also happened to be a very wealthy man and a superhero. He, Harry, now lived with his father's teammates. His father worked with a secret government agency who was investigating the happenings in Little Hangleton's graveyard.

His father was investigating one of the worst nights in Harry's life.

Chapter End Notes

So, there's going to be new characters in the next chapter. Yay, am I right? Anyway, I'm not sure what the update schedule looks like at the moment. So far, it's just been me writing in whatever freetime I get.

Harry, Meet Natasha

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

As soon as Harry left the room, Steve frowned. "He knows something. Is that why we're going out for lunch instead of you making curry?"

"Yes. And no, we're out of ginger. The main reason we're taking him out is to build somewhat of a positive relationship with him before we start grilling him for answers." Bruce scowled, "Or S.H.I.E.L.D. gets a hold of him, whichever comes first. Not to mention he had a panic attack or got extremely close to one on the ride up here."

At Steve's questioning glance, Bruce elaborated, "He said it was all so much to take in at once. That he'd "just wanted to get away from them for so long". I didn't meet his family, but from what I've heard from Pepper, they're just about the bottom of the barrel for a family. Said the other boy with them easily tipped two hundred on the scale while Harry hardly looks like he could be a hundred soaking wet. So, he's either one of the world's pickiest eaters, or he was the receiving side of target-child selection."

Steve sighed, "I'm not exactly caught up on modern medical terms, but I'm guessing that means he was the subject of child abuse?"

"Yes, it's when a parent, or parents, favor one child to the extreme in comparison to the other. If we're right, he's been underfed, if not starved by these people. There's no telling what they've done to him," he finished, standing up from his seat on the couch. "Natasha's back, right? Fill her in and we can take her with us. She'll be able to tell us when and if he's lying."

"Right."

PAGE BREAK

When Harry reemerged from his room, there was only a woman waiting for him. She had scarlet hair and eyes almost similar to his. His were the color of emeralds, while hers were a bright shade of jade. Jaded eyes, that were currently focused on her phone.

She didn't look up at him when he walked into the room, "Hello."

"Hi," Harry replied, looking around the room for the other two. "Where did Dr. Banner and Mr. Rogers go?"

The red woman finished her text before finally look at him, "Dr. Banner had to put a few things away in his lab and Mr. Rogers had to use the bathroom. I'm Natasha, by the way."

Her voice, while soft, made Harry extremely uneasy, "I'm Harry."

Natasha opened her mouth to speak as Steve stepped back into the room, followed quickly by Bruce. "Sorry, Harry, had to put a few things away before we left. Didn't want them escaping while we were out. I see you've met Natasha."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that. We met, we talked, and I'm ready for lunch," Natasha said, slipping her phone into her jacket pocket as she stood. The four of them fit into the elevator with ease, and all stood in awkward silence on the ride down to the garage. Bruce fished a pair of keys out of his pocket and led them to a black car; modern, but not flashy.

Bruce and Steve sat in the front, leaving Harry in the back with Natasha.

It wasn't that he didn't like her, it was that he was more anxious than usual around her. She had a sort of aura that demanded respect and didn't take no for an answer. Most times, when Harry met a person like this, they turned out . . . not so stellar.

The woman also had charm, though. She was obviously very good at sensing emotions and (Harry assumed) using them to her advantage. Her smile could melt your fears, but it could also be the center of your worst nightmares. She held herself in a dignified manner, one that displayed she could do more than just hold her own, but could protect the lives of others.

Or destroy them. Her eyes held her past. While her eyes shone with false interest at her phone, you could nearly feel the gears whizzing in her head. Oh, she was smart, smarter than most. Putting together the most abstract of thoughts and mannerisms together to form the big picture, the answer to her question. This woman had seen everything and nothing with those eyes. This woman had not only built regimes on her best days, but had toppled them on her worst. This was a woman who was the most important woman alive, yet no one at the same time.

Harry blinked, and suddenly he was back in the car, staring at Natasha, who was eyeing him curiously. He smiled at her and turned to look out of the window as Bruce drove out of the garage and into the city. Harry decided he not only liked, but immensely admired Natasha.

PAGE BREAK

The restaurant was nice, but homely feeling.

The four of them were seated in a booth, Harry sitting with Bruce now. He didn't look at the menu, used to Uncle Vernon pretending he was mute and ordering the cheapest thing for him to eat. When the waiter came around, she began asking for orders with him, and he panicked. Natasha, however, was quick on the uptake and ordered pork steaks with green beans and potatoes for them to share. Bruce ordered a pasta dish, and Steve a burger.

When the waiter left, he was met with three questioning glances. He cleared his throat and picked at his shirt, "I don't normally order. Uncle Vernon just orders me the cheapest thing when they have to take me out."

There was a very pregnant pause. "Then thank your lucky stars I ordered for you. Bruce and Steve both suck at ordering for other people," Natasha supplied, sipping on her soda.

Bruce gave a small, forced laugh, "I'd argue, but then I'd have to eat crow. She's easily got the best taste in food, and at guessing what other like. It's a talent, really."

"Maybe she should start ordering for me then. When we go out places, most of the time the food really messes with me. All the salt, grease, and sugar in everything nowadays. I grew up eating ration foods and boiling everything," Steve explained, more to Harry than anyone else. "But by Jove it tastes better."

Harry smiled, which made Steve smile. Lunch passed quickly, the four of them sharing stories and answering Harry's questions. Natasha was right on the money with his meal. It was by all means near perfect, the pork steak juicy, green beans warm and crunchy, and potatoes spicy and buttery. His plate was completely clean in no time. They paid and left a nice tip for the waiter, something, they explained, they did often when they ate out. All of them came from humble backgrounds, and knew that a big tip can make someone's day all the more special.

The ride back was just as quiet as the way there, but not as awkward. They climbed into the elevator, continuing to talk animatedly as they reached the common area.

"So, what movies do you like, Harry?" Bruce asked as they got sat down on the couch. Harry was sitting in the middle of Bruce and Natasha, Steve opting for the armchair.

"Uh," Harry scratched the back of his neck, "I've never really seen many to have a favorite."

Steve's eyes widened, "You've seen the Disney classics, surely?"

Harry went red, "No, actually. Not even sure who Disney is, to be honest."

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! JARVIS, start a marathon, stat! Get comfortable, kid," Steve said. He leaned over the back of the chair and tossed them blankets.

Harry managed to last through Snow White and Pinocchino, but after the first few minutes of Fantasia, his head slowly came to rest on what he thought was Bruce's shoulder, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

Chapter End Notes

Strange powers, does Harry have. There will be a time jump in the next chapter and we'll meet finally meet Tony! And Clint, but mostly Tony.

Well, Shit

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The first night had been interesting. He'd managed to give everyone in the tower a heart attack when he'd had a nightmare. It was of the night in the graveyard, but instead of encouragement the ghosts had given him, he was plagued with the ones he loved yelling abuse at him. "It's all your fault," they screeched. Cedric's body had risen up and walked menacing towards him.

Harry woke in a cold sweat, Bruce and Steve holding him down. They said JARVIS told them he'd been shaking and screaming for help. Natasha had reached him first, followed by Steve and Bruce. They'd held him down while she went to get him a drink, which she walked in with only moments later. After a glass of water and a soft smile, they left him to go back to sleep. Only he didn't go back to sleep, and neither did anyone else in the Tower.

PAGE BREAK

If he had learned only one thing in the week that followed, it was that the team, while completely different at times, were some of the most put together group he'd ever met.

Bruce worked most days in his lab, researching a potential cure for his 'issue' or piecing together a response plan for when he did lose control. When he wasn't busy, however, he enjoyed drinking tea and playing chess with Harry, answering his questions about modern science and machinery. Harry, in turn, told him small bits about his life with the Dursley's and at school, being extremely careful not to let anything about magic slip.

Natasha also worked fairly often, and Harry didn't exactly know what she was doing. About the third day he was there, Wednesday, she had stormed in and demanded to know where the rest of his clothing was. Surprised, he stammered back that the Dursley's must not have gotten it sent to him yet, as they weren't home. She had only pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, looking him over carefully. Leaving without a word, Natasha returned late that night, arms weighed down with not only clothing and a few books, but a promise to properly take him shopping one day.

Steve was in the tower most days, and was the person whom Harry spent most his time with. They finished the Disney movies together, and started watching some of the other big name movie series that neither of them had ever seen. Harry learned that Steve was multilingual, and after begging relentlessly, Steve promised to teach him, but advised him Natasha would be better, as she knew at least ten different that he knew about. Harry had declined his offer, and explained to him that he didn't want to bother her anymore than he already had. Steve had frowned and they began their lessons that day. Steve was also an artist and he enjoyed drawing the people around him. Intimate and domestic, the Avengers in Steve's eye was nothing but beautiful. Bruce laughing while dishing out dinner; Thor learning to play checkers; Tony grinning across the table; each pencil stroke had been drawn carefully and affectionately. Steve saw how Harry looked at his drawings, and one night, Harry found a portrait of himself, sitting in the armchair with Fahrenheit 451.

PAGE BREAK

Friday, however, was the most eventful day of all.

The team had taken to sleeping on Tony's floor, feeling the need to be as close to Harry as possible should something happen, or if he had a nightmare. Natasha had been offered the bed immediately, but she had turned it down in favor for one of the couches. Steve, too, had prefered the couch, leaving Bruce in the room across from Harry's. This particular night, however, they'd fallen asleep watching Return of the Jedi, meaning, the four of them were laid out on Tony's couches (which they had pushed together) in some of the oddest positions.

Steve was, essentially, the baseboard. He was laid horizontally, head dipping off one back of the couch while his left leg was slung over the armrests, right leg bent at an angle. Harry had started on the side of the couch, but now he was laying on Steve's bent leg, drooling onto his pants. Bruce took up the most space, lying as much like a starfish as a human could achieve, his glasses askew. Natasha was sleeping in the sitting position, clutching the bucket of popcorn.

This scene was not what Tony or Clint were expecting when they got home at two in the morning. While Clint found this image assuming, Tony did not. He rubbed at his eyes, "Why the fuck are you up here?" It wasn't quite yelling, but it was loud and annoyed.

The four of them shot up, Bruce knocking into Natasha as he sprang up, causing her to spill the popcorn on the floor. Harry gave a shout as Steve's legs suddenly came to life from under him, and he smashed into Bruce's back. Steve simply lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. "Ha, loser."

"Shut up."

Tony took a deep breath, "Is anyone going to explain why you're having a movie marathon in my quarters instead of in the common area? Or do you all not explain the meaning of the word 'common'? "

Bruce fixed his glasses and stepped around Natasha, who had thrown up the bird and rubbed at her face. "You're home, wow, I didn't think you'd be here this early. I thought maybe noon, or later, but-"

"You're rambling, what're you hiding?" Tony stepped past Bruce and instantly locked onto Harry. The kid was eerily similar to yours truly, but there were touches about him that weren't his, but belonged to someone very familiar. The ears, the lips, the . . . eyes. He knew those eyes. They belonged to her. His fire flower.

"Shit. You're mine," Tony said. Apparently, this wasn't the right choice of words, as the kid went beet red.

"Yea- I mean, yes sir." A moment passed, "If you don't want me here, tha-"

Before any of the others had a chance to reply, Tony cut in, "That's ridiculous, of course you're staying here. I'm just surprised, this doesn't normally happen. Where's your mother?"

Harry swallowed, "She's dead, sir. She has been for nearly thirteen years."

"Right," Tony sighed and rubbed at his eyes, "Right, so, uh-"

"Harry."

"Harry, I've had a helluva week, and I'm actually really tired, and it's obvious you are too, so let's go to bed, and we'll talk in the morning. Yeah?" Tony stated, pleaded more so.

Harry nodded, got off of the couch bed, and headed to his room. Tony gave the rest of the room his best bitchface, "We'll also be talking in the morning." He then grumpily marched to his room and was asleep as soon as he hit the doorway.

The remainder of the team separated their couches and laid down. There was no use in going back to their rooms now. Clint clambered into an armchair as Bruce walked to Tony's room. Seeing him on the floor, he snorted and climbed into his bed, resuming his spread eagle sleeping position.

Chapter End Notes

Okay, I haven't said it yet, but I guess it goes without saying that I don't own shit. Other than the plot, of course. I got asked if Loki would be joining later, and I'm happy to say yes! Yes, he will be, but it'll probably be on down the road.

Painful Truths Aren't Always Better

Chapter Notes

THERE IS A REFERNCED SUICIDE ATTEMPT. IT IS NOT GRAPHIC.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It was still too damn early when Tony woke up again.

The sounds and smells coming from the kitchen woke him up. There was laughter amidst idle conversation, a beautiful noise Tony hadn't heard in awhile. He walked quietly into the kitchen, surveying the team sitting around the table eating a meal together. Before he left, they could hardly stand being in the same room as each other.

His sneakiness was a waste of time apparently, as Natasha spotted him from across the room, greeting him with a simple, "Hey."

Tony nodded back as Steve stood, pulling another chair towards the table, "Come join us, you've got to be hungry."

And of course, Steve was right, Tony's stomach giving a growl as he started piling pancakes onto his plate. Bruce cleared his throat, "How'd the mission go?"

Tony shook his head, "Bunch of bullshit, per usual. Something definitely happened there; energy signatures everywhere, almost matched the signatures from Loki's sceptre. And this weird pile of iron. Spoke with some of the locals and they all seemed sort of shook up about it. Must have been bad, whatever it was." He took a bite of pancake and sipped at his juice, "There seemed to have been a hell of a struggle judging by the state of the lawn. JARVIS says nearly twenty people would have been there, but he can't get profiles for most of them, just these two who had hit the ground, hard. S.H.I.E.L.D. said no recent bodies, but-"

"They're lying," Steve said, hardly looking up from a piece of notebook paper. "There's been two deaths there in the past year. An old man and a teenager."

"How do you know that? It took JARVIS a few hours to crack that one, and you just simply know?" Tony huffed, "What're you looking at anyway, you've hardly looked at me since you told me to join you guys for breakfast."

"Harry told us, said it was on the news for a while. And I'm teaching your son French. You should be proud, really, he's an incredibly fast learner," He replied, passing the paper over to Natasha to read. "But if you had to break into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files to get that information, it wouldn't have been on the news."

Instead of having a quipy remark to throw back at Steve, Tony sat there, dumbfounded. He watched as Natasha read over his paper with an impressed look on her face. "You're telling me that my son's been here long enough for you to teach him French, but not long enough for someone to pick up the phone and tell me I had offspring at home?"

"Well, you were working, and Pepper didn't think it was a good idea to contact you immediately, and frankly, I didn't either. But yes, he's been here since Monday, and I think there's a few things we should fill you in on," Bruce said, setting his napkin back on his plate and pushing his glasses up.

Tony's face flushed with anger, "I would damn well think so."

Bruce rolled his neck and began speaking, "Well, from what we've learned, Harry's parents were murdered when he was a baby, and he's been living with his aunt and uncle ever since. It's clear that they abused him, just from the bits we've managed to collect out of him. He was kept in the cupboard under the stairs as a child, not properly fed or clothed." He took a deep breath, "Harry let slip one day that in the room he had before he came here, there was a cat flap on it so they could slide his food in. And that means he was kept locked up frequently. There's been mentions of physical abuse, as well as emotional and mental. He has nightmares. Bad ones."

"And they're still alive?" Tony growled.

"We're building a case against them. For now, we're just making their lives a living hell. Pepper managed to pull some strings and got him fired. Someone also tipped off the authorities that there was a drug cartel operating inside the house, and the house got searched. They're having quite the time in court right now. Then, we'll hit them with our case, and they'll be even more discredited. All about reputation, these people. Our plan is, once they get done there, we'll start cutting everything they have. Cable, electricity, water, all gone. Then we go in and scare the living shit out of them." Natasha spoke with such ease, as if she were simply planning an outing with friends. She handed the paper back to Steve, "Have him work on the past participles a little more."

He took the paper and laid it on the table, "They won't be getting anyway unscathed, Tony. We promise."

"That's quite the plan you have." Said a quiet voice from behind them. Harry stood in the doorway, rubbing at his face. "Was that just off the top of your head, or have you been planning it for a while now?"

The table went tense as Harry walked over, pulling up a chair. The teen put some fruit and two pancakes onto his plate. "It's been in the works since you arrived here and had a panic attack in the elevator," Bruce replied.

Harry frowned and raised an eyebrow, "I always took you for a pacifist. Natasha, most certainly would have come up with this. Steve, even, but not you. Guess I was wrong."

"Normally, I am. But when someone hurts a person I care for," Bruce clenched his fist under the table, "it gets downright ugly."

"We can't let them get away with this, Harry, it was unacceptable what they did to you," Steve said.

"Really? Because the neighbors really didn't mind. I would be outside all day, working my ass off on whatever task I was told to do for the day. I couldn't go inside to cool off, or get a drink. They didn't care then. They certainly didn't care when I tended to their lawns," Harry's voice steadily grew louder with each passing sentence. They didn't care when I had the only window in the house with bars on it. No one cared when Dudley would chase me around and beat me to a pulp. Or when I came to school with bruises up and down my arms from Uncle Vernon. The nurse didn't blink twice at the story my aunt told about the whelps on my back from a belt. My headmaster didn't care when I told him I was being starved and raped at home. No one cared when I slit my wrists. No one cared when I couldn't talk for a month after one of my friends died! No one in my life has ever cared! So, why do you?!" With his last words, nearly every piece of glass in the room shattered.

Everyone was on their feet in an instant. Steve tackled Harry to the ground and he screamed. Steve wasn't hurting him though, he was shielding them from a threat that would never come. Tony summoned his suit and Natasha pulled a gun from her holster. "JARVIS, what's it look like?"

"There are no unordinary heat signatures in the building, sir. There is no one on this floor that shouldn't be."

Steve rolled off of Harry and pulled him up, checking him over for any signs of bleeding, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," He said, gently pushing Steve away. He swallowed, "I'm gonna go back to my room now, if that's alright with everyone?"

Tony stepped forward, raising the faceplate on his mask, "Uh, no, it's not alright with me. We're going to talk about what you just said."

Chapter End Notes

There's no scene cuts in this one! Yay me!

The Truth Will Out

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry scratched the back of his neck, "I don't know what you're wanting to talk about."

"Well, maybe about your years of abuse you've just filled us in on? Do you not have any decent friends? At all?" Tony said, opening a door. Like magic, the suit peeled off of him and into the closet.

"Maybe I don't, what are you going to do about it?" Harry said, "Or are you going to track them down and fillet them within an inch of their lives, too?"

Steve stepped forward, "Harry, we're not going to going to harm any of your friends-"

"Speak for yourself, old man," Tony snapped. "Seriously, how did no one know? Why didn't they ask questions?"

"Because it wouldn't have mattered!" He yelled, "I told you, even when I came clean about it and tried to get help, I was pushed away! No one cared, no one ever has!"

Silence fell across the room. Sighing, Tony walked to Harry and gently guided him to the couch. "No one may have cared then, but now you have people in your life that do. But we can't help you if you don't want to be helped." Taking the quietness as a positive reaction, he pressed on. "I think it'd be best if you started from the beginning and told us what's been happening in your life."

After several minutes of staring at the ground, Harry finally looked up. "Fine. But I'm only doing this once, so you all better be fucking listening."

PAGE BREAK

"I suppose my life really began to take a downhill turn on Halloween of 1981. My parents had been hiding from a mass murderer named Tom Riddle, and only a few people knew where they were hiding. I don't really know why he was after them other than the fact my dad was assigned his case. One of the people that knew where they were hiding told him where my parents were. So, Riddle went to the house and murdered both my parents. It's said that he tried to kill me as well, but someone or something drove him away, and he was presumed dead.

"I spent the next years of my life being pinched and prodded by my cousin Dudley. By the age of four I was working in the garden and helping cook breakfast. If I messed up, I was punished, usually a spanking. When I turned seven, I was expected to cook, clean, and just overall maintain the house. If I messed up or forgot to do something, I was beaten, then locked in my cupboard without food for the rest of the day. My high marks in school suddenly dropped, and I slowly became invisible." Harry took a deep breath and mumbled something that sounded like, "I can't believe I'm doing this."
"The first time I was raped, I was nine. It was one of Dudley's friends. He thought it'd be funny and he found it extremely so. I didn't. It happened again right before I turned eleven. A neighbor that watched me while the Dursley's were out.

"When I turned eleven, I got a letter from a school in Scotland, asking me to come study there. Uncle Vernon said no, but he wasn't smart enough to write them back, so they kept sending letters and eventually sent a representative from the school to get my answer. Hagrid, the representative, saw what conditions I was living in and told me I was going to this school, whether or not the Dursley's wanted me to. I was elated, I was finally getting away from the Dursley's. He took me shopping for school supplies and bought me my first birthday present. It was an owl; I named her Hedwig, and the Dursley's haven't sent her over. There was still a month left until semester started, but the Dursley's were too afraid

"On the train there, I met my first friend. We shared candy and chocolates, and I started a card collection. Inside these chocolate frogs were cards with famous graduates of my school on there. My first card was the current headmaster, Albus Dumbledore-"

"Albus Dumbledore?" Steve asked. "He's not dead?"

"No, but he's ancient," Harry began to sweat a bit. "How do you know him?"

"During the war, and he was older in age back then, too. We, the Commandos, actually dropped in the middle of a battle he was fighting in. It was-" Steve's unfocused eyes suddenly because crystal clear as he locked eyes with Harry. "It was incredible. Unlike anything I've seen before. He practically begged us not to write a mission report over it, so we didn't. He-" Steve searched Harry's now extremely pale face. "You're like him, aren't you? And Tony's case, that's. . . that's got to do with people like you, doesn't it?" He stood up and ran a hand through his hair, "Why didn't think of that before?"

"'People like you', what the hell is that supposed to mean Rogers? Are we dealing with a cult? Is my son a part of a cult?" Tony asked.

"No, it's not a cult-"

"Well, it sounds like a fucking cult to me!"

"Stark, it's not a cult."

"And why are you so confident in that, Romanov?"

"Because I work with underground shit like this, you ass."

Tony threw his hands up in the air, "So, everyone in this goddamned room knows what the fuck is up with this apparently immortal old man but me, is that it?"

"I don't know," Bruce said.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, "Well, maybe if you'd shut up, we could get to the part where we explain."

"Shouldn't we be telling S.H.I.E.L.D.-" Steve began.

"What exactly are you telling S.H.I.E.L.D. about Harry, huh? I thought we agreed to not bring them into this?" Bruce stood.

"Bruce, please calm down-"

"What he's wanting to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. is that wizards are what happened in Little Hangleton's graveyard that night."

Everyone turned to the doorway, where Clint was leaning. He walked to the table and threw down a pile of papers, "I got a report that Harry Potter had gone missing while we were there. I had it figured out, of course, I've worked a case like this before. Tony only got brought in by a rookie error, but we couldn't just send him back home because then he'd start digging, and find exactly what we didn't want him to. So, we let him think he was doing his job and we went home. Only, when we got here, I found Harry-freaking-Potter having a movie marathon. I went in early to turn in the report and alerted S.H.I.E.L.D. he was here. They've promised to keep you as under the radar here as possible, you're welcome."

"Why would he need to be under the radar?" Steve asked.

Clint sighed, "Because of the shit that's happened to him while he's been there. Stark, you've got a helluva son."

Tony's face turned dangerously red as he gripped the back of his chair, "And, uh, what exactly happened to my son in the 'Wizarding World' to have gained the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

When Harry didn't respond, Clint supplied an answer, "He's the only known person alive to have escaped Voldemort when he wanted them dead. Not once, not twice, but consistently. Not even Dumbledore could manage what he's done."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "I thought Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard alive?"

"He was, until Harry came along."

"So you're saying Harry's the most powerful wizard alive?" Bruce asked.

Natasha nodded, "Yes, theoretically."

"Oh my Lord," Tony fell into an armchair across from Harry, his arms resting on his knees. "Okay, kiddo. I want the full story, nothing edited out, no matter how much you won't think we'd like it. I need to know."

Harry took a deep breath, color returning to his face a minute at a time, "Well, it basically still begins the same. . ."

Chapter End Notes

. . . And the rest of Harry's story won't be written because the author is lazy as shit. Yep, that's me. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the big reveal. Next chapter will basically just be reactions, emotions, and talking about Cedric and what happened at Little Hangleton.

Decisions

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

". . . And when we grabbed the cup, it was supposed to take us back to the school so we could be done with this whole thing. It took us to the graveyard in Little Hangleton instead." Harry took a sip of the water in front of him.

"As soon as we got there, Peter Pettigrew, Ron's former rat, was waiting with Voldemort. Voldemort told him to 'kill the spare', and without hesitation, he murdered Cedric." Harry took a deep breath and looked at his hands. "Then he tied me to a headstone and performed a curse, or ritual, I'm not entirely sure what it was, to bring him back. That's how I got this scar," He rolled up his sleeve to show them the long gash on his right arm. "Voldemort had to have my blood to return to power. When he first appeared, it was like the world had ended. I was completely numb from head to toe. I thought he was going to kill me right then and there. But he gave me my wand, and we dueled. While we were dueling, our spells hit each other and sort of locked, like they were of equal power. A sort of bubble developed around us and his wand starting shooting out people his wand had killed. Cedric, the old man from my dream, my parents; all encouraging me. Cedric asked me to take his body back to his dad, so I began to formulate. The cup was still by Cedric, and I was hoping on the fact that the portkey would now take us to the school, so all I had to do was run to the cup. The ghosts helped. When I broke the connection between us, they flooded towards and around him, so that neither he nor his followers could see me. I ran faster than I ever had in my life, jumped on top of Cedric, grabbed the cup, and thanked everyone I could think of that the cup took us back to the school, where all hell broke loose. I really don't remember much, I was in shock, but everyone was screaming and crying, and Mr. Diggory holding Cedric . . ." Harry trailed off.

He looked up at the room. He sat alone in an armchair, everyone else gathered on the couches, staring intently at him. They had been a good audience, gasping and yelling profanity where necessary. Harry held them in his hands, as their eyes bore into his, "And then I was dragged up to the castle for medical treatment and that's it."

No one moved and he raised an eyebrow, "Seriously, that's it. You guys can clap or do whatever you do now."

Tony cleared his throat, "Harry, you don't have to answer now, but do you want to go back to Hogwarts? I could really see why not if you didn't, and I think I may know someone that could give you a magical education."

"If you mean Loki, I swear-"

"Wait, you guys know Loki? Like, the Loki?" Harry asked, leaning forward in his seat a bit.

Clint scowled, "Trust me kid, he's not all he's cracked up to be. The New York thing? That was Loki."

Harry's face dropped, "Oh. That wasn't in the report."
"No, it wasn't, because S.H.I.E.L.D.'s trying to cover it up. It turns out Loki was being controlled at the time of the attack, and, uh," Bruce cleared his throat, "I 'cognitively calibrated' him when I smashed him into the ground. So, he had no idea the severity of what he was doing at the time and now he's just angry because he can't fix what he's done."

"He's still a dick," Clint huffed.

"I agree, I'm not fond of him, but if Tony's willing to give him a shot, I say we do it. Especially if it keeps Harry from having to go back to that school of his," Steve said.

"I agree," Said Natasha, "Sorry, Clint, you've been outvoted."

As Clint crossed his arms in defeat, Harry ran a hand through his hair, "So, I could stay here, no one know I'm here, and have someone from legend teach me magic instead of someone who doesn't really care whether I live or die. Yeah, yeah, I think that's the best option."

Tony grinned ear-to-ear, "You really want to stay here? Even with the week you spent with these lunatics?"

"Come off it, all three of us put together isn't nearly as bad as just you." Natasha rebuttled.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Yeah, I really do. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have a family. Like I belong."

The smiles in that room could have powered New York for a hundred lifetimes.

Chapter End Notes

First off, I want to say I'm sorry for not updating yesterday, and for this shitty chapter. I'm very busy at the moment with a play I'm in, it's crunchtime over here. I made myself sit down today and write this out, and no surprise, it's the shortest chapter yet. But, in good news, LOKI!

Flight

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The next morning, Harry was shaken awake by an overly excited looking Tony.

"Hey, hey bud, wake up. Jesus, kid, wake up."

Harry blinked once. Twice. He rolled over and looked at the clock. "Hey. Why are you waking me up at four in the morning?"

"Cause you haven't gotten to see my suits yet," Tony grinned widely. "Wanna see them? Morning's the best time to fly around."

"I don't know how to fly your suits," Harry stated, taking his glasses from Tony. "And I have a strange feeling I should know how to before I get inside one and you set me on New York."

"Why do you think you're up so early? If I'm right, we have exactly one hour and thirty-two minutes to teach you. Bruce and Steve both said you're a faster learner, and now it's time to prove it." Tony dumped some pajama-like clothes on his lap. "Put these on and meet me in Lab 4 in five minutes."

PAGE BREAK

"So, it's just balancing, basically?"

Tony nodded beside Harry, adjusting the suit to fit his petite frame. "Yeah, basically. When you get better, you can have control of the weapons, thrust rate, all that fun jazz. But for now, JARVIS has control of it." He stepped back and admired his work, "Nice. JARVIS, we're ready. Suit please."

Tony held his arms out and the suit enveloped him. "Wicked."

"Now, just remember what you learned thirty minutes ago, and you'll be fine, I promise. Or at least until Steve finds out," Tony shrugged.

Harry's faceplate shut and Iron Man came to life. Numbers and words floated around him for a moment before they were all swept away and Tony's voice was in his ear, "Hey, kid, can you see?"

"Yeah, I see you," Harry waved back.

"Excellent. Let's go." They shot out of the top of Stark Towers, Harry following closely behind Tony. He'd thought he'd flown before, but this, this was a different kind of exhilaration. There was none of the bad parts of flying, no bugs or the elements, just a breath-taking view of the sights below. Cars drove underneath him like automated toys, the building lights illuminating the early morning sky. The sun slowly began to peak the horizon.

"Harry, over here."

Tony led them to the what Harry assumed was the Empire State building, slowly hovering over the observation deck, "I know the guy who owns the building, we made a deal. I can trespass at any time of the day without security calling the police, and I help with the eco-friendly campaign."

"That's good, I suppose," Harry responded with mild interest. The sun had crested, and the sky was painted in a thousand colors. Reds melted into oranges that converged into yellows. Pinks and purples were dotted across the horizon. The two sat in awed silence, watching the sun make its way upwards, until the morning was in full bloom.

"That was beautiful. Thank you," Harry said as they made their way back to the tower. "How did you know I liked sunrises?"

"I didn't," Tony's voice responded. "I just figured you hadn't gotten out much in the past few days, figured you were itching to stretch your legs somewhere besides the tower."

Harry smirked, "Well, you're a very good guesser then."

"No, no," Tony said as they reentered the lab, "I'm good at theorizing. Most of my life is built on theories."

The suits were easily taken from them by the floor, the two of them walking up the stairs.

Where they were met with Natasha, who looked extremely displeased. "We have a problem."

Tony raised an eyebrow, "And what's that? I didn't think you'd be the one to give me a lecture about taking him out."

"That's not the problem, but it sort of ties in. The problem is that the wizarding world is getting suspicious Harry's gone. His friend's letters are coming back untouched. A guy Fury knows just left his office after questioning him about where he is. And now suddenly there are two Iron Men gazing at the sunset together. The news is having a field day," She led them upstairs to where most of the team were sitting in differing degrees of tiredness. Steve made a motion to open his mouth, but quieted at a look from Natasha.

"-wondering who's in that suit, aren't you Richard?"

"I sure am, Sally. It is one of his teammates? A new recruit perhaps?"

"It may be a love interest, and boy am I ready to report that, especially after his break from CEO Pepper Potts. We'll see you at noon, right here on channel six."

"And what's this got to do with Harry?" Tony questioned.

Natasha sighed, "We're saying it's probably for the best that Harry doesn't go out for a while. Or at least not without some sort of disfiguration. It'd be only too easy for them to track him down if a picture was snapped of you two out to lunch one day. I mean, no letters or anything. I'm sorry, Harry, I really am. I just don't want you to have to go back to them."

Harry nodded, "No, I understand. It's just, there's still a few people in the wizarding world that I think still care about me, and I them. I'd hate to leave them completely behind."

Bruce pursed his lips, "What if you wrote just them a letter, to let them know you're fine. You don't have to tell them where you are, or who you're with for safety purposes, but just write to them to put their minds at ease."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "That could work."

Bruce sipped his tea, "Get on it, then. We have a lesson at eight, if I'm not mistaken."

Chapter End Notes

Wow, I didn't realize how many people actually read the notes! That's awesome! Yes, Loki's going only going to teach him about things he'd learn at Hogwarts, but cool shit as well. Hermoine will be brought in at one point. Remus and Sirius, I'm not quite sure they'll be in here yet. Thanks for the well wishes, and for reading!

Letters From Home

The past couple of weeks had been something of a rollercoaster for Tony.

He'd ended a shitty mission with a simple, "I don't really know what happened, please leave me alone," only to get home and find a boy who was the cause of the mission. Well, not really the cause, but had almost everything to do with it. Not only was this boy from another world almost, but also his child. Since he was eight, Tony had sworn to himself that he would never have kids in fear of turning into his father. But now, there stood his child, hurting and locked inside of himself, unable to escape (He supposed the whole 'not being able to properly express emotions' thing ran in the family). Tony had never actually wanted to hurt people with his bare hands before, but hearing the things this child had gone through, what flesh and blood people had put him through, wanted to make him throw up and murder everyone all at once.

This child, however, was a different story.

Harry had quickly become part of the daily routine for them all. He'd linked up a Stark pad to his Iron Man visual screen, so they could watch the sunrises together. The kid woke up early, just for that. Then, he'd sleep until seven, where Steve would have breakfast ready. At eight, he and Bruce met in the lab or the common area where Bruce taught him about modern science and mathematics. Mostly physics, but also some biochemistry. When ten rolled around, he and Steve would meet on Tony's floor to talk about whatever books, movies, or music they'd been entertaining themselves with. Steve drew while Harry practiced his French, Natasha occasionally making an appearance to help. Sometimes, they'd just watch a movie and eat snacks. Harry would eat lunch, then head down to Tony's lab. Personally, this was both Harry and Tony's favorite time of day. It had become a regular thing by accident, but neither of them minded. Tony taught him what he knew about machines and how to build them, design them. Most of it was hands-on, Harry taking apart and putting motors back together, but once or twice he'd manage to give a lecture over safety and how it should only be used in times of extremity. Natasha trained him in the evenings, teaching him basic self-defence moves and a small bit of parkour. Parkour he liked, Tony had noted. He could walk in and see the two of them, regular peas in a pod, scaling the pipes attached to the walls. It was like watching a masterpiece being painted, simply breathtaking.

The nights were breathtaking, but for a different reason.

The others were right about Harry's nightmares, they were truly awful. The first time it had happened, Tony honestly thought the kid was being murdered. He'd ran across the hall and barged into his room, where no one but Harry was. He was twisting and screaming hysterically, tears running down his face. Tony hadn't known what to do but try and shake him awake. Clint had quickly dropped from the air vent and pulled him away, telling him that if he didn't wake up immediately, it was probably best to just let him work through it in his dream. Tony had fought him, but Clint kept him restrained, and sure enough, Harry stopped both screaming and moving, laying on the best peacefully. He and Clint had promptly left the room and opened a bottle of rum. That was their routine when Harry woke. The two of them watched him carefully, and when he calmed, they drank a fourth of a bottle of rum.

PAGE BREAK

"-Ferromagnetism is the most commonly referenced type of magnetism, like what you learned in elementary school. It mostly deals with iron and iron based metals, like nickel, cobalt, and most of their alloys. Ferromagnetism is the mechanism by which certain metals to become permanent magnets, or are attracted to magnets. Now, you don't need to get this confused with ferrimagnetism, which is very similar, yet completely different. Ferromagnetism was-"

Tony cleared his throat, "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, Bruce, but Harry has mail."

Harry jumped up from his seat on the couch, notebook and pencil landing on the floor. He rushed to Tony and took the letters from his hands with a quick, "Thanks," and tore the envelope open. The first one was from Hermione.

Dear Harry,

You don't know how pleased I am to hear you're alright. I won't even lecture you on not

telling me where you are, as long as you're truly okay.

I don't blame you at all for wanting to leave the wizarding world; it's gotten pretty nasty

since you've been gone. Ron says his dad said that the government is tearing apart from

within, split between those who side with Dumbledore, and those who side with Fudge.

The papers are nothing but slander and meaningless words now, no actual news about

anything. It's quite horrifying, to be honest, and I find myself dreading the beginning of the

school year.

As for the other letters you sent, they've been delivered. You were right, Ron asked

(through Ginny) if I could stay the summer with them. We're not at the Burrow, though,

but Sirius's house! I was easily able to give Fred and George their letter, as well as Sirius

his. Professor Lupin is staying here as well. He and Sirius both have been worried sick;

be surprised if your letter from Sirius has the Professor's name on it well.

Best wishes,

Hermione

P.S.- Send the letters to the P.O. box on the envelope. I go once a week to get letters

from my parents. Yours will blend in. Also, Hedwig's with me. She can't find you, so I'm

taking care of her for now until we can meet again.

Harry grimaced, "She says the government's falling apart." He opened the next letter.

Harry,

That's heavy shit mate. And you know us, we won't tell a soul about your letters. It's

curious though, Hermione's the one that gave us the letter. She did it sneakily, mind you,

but we know it's her. Just wondering if Ron got a letter as well. You mentioned that you

only sent them to your most trustworthy friends. An aside: He's not that trustworthy, but

his heart's in the right place, we think.

This place is very dark and dirty. We've been cleaning nonstop since we got here. This

place is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, a secret society lead by

Dumbledore. It's pathetically annoying, they won't let us into the Order meetings. We

can still hear them though, with our Extendable Ears. You've got them in a right tissy.

Even Snape's worried. Fred nearly died of a heart attack. Sirius is understandably

pacing the floors, and occasionally goes on a rampage and only Professor Lupin can

calm him down. Most of the time it's with a nice sandwich, but sometimes it's a heavy

confundus charm.

We've passed our apparition exam and are now actual members of society. If you ever

want to meet up, let us now where, and we'll try and make it.

Take care,

Fred and George

Harry opened the last letter.

Prongslet,

You've nearly given me a head full of grey hair, child. I didn't think it would be this way. I'd

always assumed I get it because you were chasing after one of my children, and I'd be

have to be the protective father and fun-loving uncle all at once. However, that's not how

this story is going, and only goes to show you almost never get what you want in life.

Your life is one of my biggest regrets, Harry. Because of my irrational behavior, you

weren't given a choice in life. You were thrown into home where you were not loved or

cherished as you should have been. I shouldn't have gone after Peter that night. I should

have stayed and fought with Dumbledore. I surely would have lost, but at least I would

have lost with the piece of mind that I did what was in your best interest. We should have

been a family, Harry, you and me and Remus.

Wherever you are, I hope you are being loved and taken care of. I asked Remus if your

letter looked encoded, like a plea for help, but he said it simply looked like the writing of a

boy who was done with the world. I couldn't have agreed with him more.

I never got to tell you about how sorry I was about what happened to you that night, and

about Cedric. I knew he meant a lot to you. There again it is proven that we have no real

control over our lives.

I love you, Harry, and I hope for nothing more than that you find happiness wherever you may be.

Sirius

I'm Drowning

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Cedric. He keeps screaming Cedric," Tony mused one night, sitting across from Clint. He looked up at the archer, puzzled, "Why does he scream for Cedric?"

Clint shrugged and took a sip of his rum, "Cedric was the name of the kid Harry watched die. I don't know about you, but I'd have nightmares about that sort of thing if I was his age too." He paused. "So, Thor and Loki are arriving tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded curtly. "You're not staying, are you?"

"Me? Hell no. Cursed or not, I still hold one mother of a grudge," Clint replied. "I'm going to go lay low in England for a bit, if you want to know. Keep an eye on those relative fuckers of his."

A snort, "That's a lovely holiday."

"Yeah, well, wasn't exactly my idea," Clint downed the rest of his drink. "Tasha 'suggested' it. I'm merely executing her plan."

"If it's her plan, I probably really don't want to know what's going to happen, then, do I?"

"No. Not really."

"Good." Tony stood and began to walk from the room, "Give them what they deserve."

THIS IS A PAGE BREAK

Steve and Harry were having their usual ten o'clock meeting. It was a rainy Wednesday, and they had decided to independently read "To Kill a Mockingbird" before discussing it. The two of them had notepads and wrote down questions they'd later want to talk about with the other. Harry let out a sigh and slowly lowered his book to his lap, "Steve, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course. I thought we were waiting until we'd both finished to ask questions though?" Steve replied, licking his finger to turn the page.

Harry scratched the back of his head, "I didn't really mean a question that pertained to the text, actually."

When Steve looked up and noticed the serious look on Harry's face, he immediately sat down his book and turned to face Harry, "Shoot, kid."

"Uh," Harry looked all around the room, not wanting to meet eyes with Steve. "What's the saddest you've ever been?"

His brows furrowed, "What's the saddest I've ever been?"
"Yeah." Harry went red and looked down at his book, "I'm sorry, that was stupid. And really personal. . ."

"No, it's fine. I'm someone who tends to overshare a lot of things," Steve moved from his chair next to Harry on the couch. "Well, I've been. . . sad a lot in my life. My father died when I was young, and I had to bury my mother when I was nineteen or so. That was sad. Uh, I was upset when Bucky told me he was being sent overseas, you know who Bucky is, right?" Receiving a nod, Steve continued. "One of the worst times of my life was when he died. I felt pain beyond pain. Bucky was always there, even when I had nothing. Now, there a difference in that and in the pain I felt when I realized I woke up."

"When you woke up?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Steve said, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders. "You didn't think that plane crash was an accident, did you? No, I meant to go down. It was shortly after Bucky died, and I was still feeling that gripping darkness. It overwhelmed me. I had the opportunity to. . . end it all, so to speak, and I took it. I thought I was going to die and join Bucky in whatever afterlife there was for us. Instead, I feel a stinging cold and see nothing but dark. Then I woke up here and realized I was completely alone. Now, that sadness, that was different. That was a pit in my chest that wouldn't go away. I didn't know anyone here, or anything about this time. That was hard." Steve hesitated, then ruffled Harry's hair. "But, I found a family here, and it certainly wasn't my choice. I was forced out of my own self-pity to rejoin the world, and look what I found. Bruce, Tony, you," Steve nudged him gently. "I'd say it saved my life. Honestly."

Harry didn't say anything, but sat just a tiny bit closer to Steve, laying his head on his shoulder.

Steve sighed and brushed a stray hair from Harry's face, "So, I believe it's only fair I get to ask you a question now, huh?" Steve dropped his voice, so that just Harry could hear him, "Why did you ask me that?"

"Because I'm sad," Harry said. "I know, I have no right to be. I'm living with some of the best people on the planet, in one of the nicest buildings on the planet. But still, I can't make myself happy. Other people have to come along and make me happy, but when I'm alone, at night, I can hardly breathe because I can hear them talking to me. They don't say anything bad, or hateful, but their memory is enough to give me chills. I can hear them talking, things they said to me, things I heard them talk about. It reminds me that they're not here anymore, and nothing I could ever do will bring them back." He sighed, "I know that sounded really stupid, but I can't help it. It's drowning me."

Steve looked at Harry, not in pity, but in understanding. Before he could say anything, JARVIS's voice came from around them, "Sirs, Master Stark and the others are on their way up as we speak."

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's forehead, "We'll finish this conversation later."

The elevator reached their floor with a 'ding', the doors slid open, and there stood the entire ensemble of their team, minus Clint, plus two new people. One was very slim and had black hair, the other rather muscular and blond.

Tony cleared his throat and gestured between Harry and Steve, "Anything here I should know about?"

Two voices answered at once, "Oh, lord, no. He's a bit old."-"Tony, I would never try and approach your child."

"You think I'm old?" Steve said, with mock hurt in his eyes.

"Well, you're only about ninety, I'd say that's old," Natasha quipped back.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, I'd like to introduce you to some people, Harry," Tony said, walking over to Harry. "The blond is Thor, he had problems with sarcasm and likes pop-tarts. The black-headed beauty is Loki, he has control issues and hates people. Thor, Loki, meet my progeny."

The pair started. "Progeny?" Loki asked. "How is it that you end up with one of the most powerful magic wielders of the age as a child?"

"Friend Stark, you did not mention you had a child at all our last visit. How is it that we are just now hearing of this?" Thor asked.

Tony rubbed his bridge of his nose, "Well, Point-Break, I didn't even know I had a child until two Fridays ago. . ."

Chapter End Notes

I'm so, so sorry. For those wondering, the play went off beautifully and without a hitch. I've started school again, and let me tell you, it is a bitch. So, the update schedule will be a bit shit for the next few months. The quality of the writing, as I'm sad to say, will probably also go down, as in this chapter. I couldn't really think of an interesting way to introduce Loki, and I am really sorry about that, I did my best. On a good note, we'll see a LOT of him in the next chapter!

Don't Forget, Silence is a Valid Option

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Magic isn't a plaything," The dark-haired man began, "It is a tool and a weapon. Your magical education up to this point has been decent, but under proper guidance and circumstances, you could be a much greater wizard than you are now, Harry."

Harry furrowed his brows, "What if I don't want to be a great wizard?"

"Then you will use your magic as a tool," Loki stated. "I will still teach you to defend yourself, both defensively and offensively. But, how you use your knowledge is entirely up to you.

The first thing you need to know about magic is that it is a part of you. Deep inside, a magical core rests. Most wizards of your kind use a conductor to harness their magic. It's not necessary, but it makes it easier to learn. I believe you should not learn in this manner. The sooner you begin to be comfortable with using solely your core, the better you will be able to control your magic. I heard about your outburst the other day. Once you learn to take control of this core, you needn't worry about accidents such as these. To control it, you first need to control yourself. Meditation is helpful, especially when done correctly. It will help you connect with your body, and perhaps, you'll even find your core.

Magic has been feared throughout the ages, and I'm afraid I haven't been the most helpful in calming this uneasiness." Loki took a breath and swallowed. "However, magic has ingrained itself into mundane life without the mundanes knowing it. Someone is always particularly lucky, or good at guessing. They're merely unconsciously calling upon their dormant magic to help them throughout the day. You don't want to be powerful wizard, but you are. That does not mean you have to continuously use your magic. Once you control it, instead of the other way round, you can..." he searched for the right word, "calm it. Repress it just a bit. I don't recommend it, as it tends to have negative side effects, including being out of practice. You have to use your magic to keep it under control. Otherwise, you just might forget how powerful it truly is."

Harry blinked, "I won't be needing my wand, then?"

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Harry liked the newest members of the household. Thor was very loud and somewhat crass, but altogether enjoyable and just clueless as he was to muggle culture. Loki, on the other hand, was nearly a complete opposite to this adoptive brother. He sat quietly and kept to himself, but when he did speak, it was sharp edged and witty. Despite the bad stigma surrounding him, Harry felt himself being just as drawn to him as he was drawn to Natasha.

Ah, Natasha and the rest of the house. Harry felt it the moment Loki arrived. There was a shift in mood. When once they were carefree and joyful, they were now guarded and somewhat closed off. It drove Harry insane. The team knew of Loki's innocence, surely. Shouldn't they be able to look past him being manipulated like a puppet and help him heal as well? It seemed they couldn't. They were polite to him, but not the same people they were when he wasn't there. His birthday seemed to be the only day they all truly tried to set aside their differences. (It was also the day that Harry realized how much he meant to them.)

This was the reason he often times sought Loki out for a cup of tea and a talk. Loki named it pity, but Harry saw it as them helping one another. The god had given him potions to help him sleep and for Harry, there was no repaying that because it wasn't just him it effected. Everyone in the Tower had enjoyed getting a night's rest, then a week, and onward.

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Piano was a new hobby he'd taken up with Tony. The man was incredibly talented and had a good ear. He'd explained to Harry that he'd always been able to and credited it to being a genius. However, Harry could play just as well as his father , so he knew that couldn't be it.

Tony, on the other hand, wasn't so convinced. Harry continued to amaze them all with how quickly he latched on to new ideas and concepts. French had been mastered, and now Steve was teaching Harry Gaelic. He caught on to that quickly as well, and Tony had no doubt the boy would master it by the end of the month. Watching Harry made Tony feel something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He was upset, he knew that. But what he was upset about was a mystery to him. Harry was doing wonderfully. He had his moments of doubt, of course he did. But he always recovered. He was happy, wasn't he? He talked and joked around with them. But sometimes, he'd get flustered. He'd freeze up and either couldn't think of something to say, or wouldn't say what was on his mind. He always smiled when they were around, but he'd caught Harry with a sullen look on his face when he was alone more than once. But, Tony didn't say anything. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say.

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"Have you gotten any other letters from England?" Steve asked one afternoon.

It was a rare day. Natasha and Clint were off of mission, that was normal. Tony was at a conference, which wasn't entirely uncommon, but not normal. The Asgardians were in S.H.E.I.L.D. headquarters being questioned about... something. Even Bruce was out. Steve had made his way up to Tony's floors to find, not so out of the ordinary, Harry on the couch. He'd tried clearing his throat, but the boy was deep in thought.

His voice seemed to draw Harry from his thoughts, however. He jumped and whirled around, relief evident on his face when he saw Steve. As the elder waited for a response, relief turned into confusion, "Sorry, what did you say?"

Steve sat on the sofa across from him, "I asked if you'd gotten any other letters."

Harry shook his head and looked away, "I haven't sent any response."

"You haven't?" It was Steve's turn to look confused, "Why not?"

The boy shrugged, "I don't really know what to say. How do I tell them what I'm doing? How do I tell them that I miss them, but I'm doing fine without them?" He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Because I do miss them. And I want to see them, but I can't. Not with the Order around and school being back in session."

Steve wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, and he supposed it was good he didn't, as Harry continued to open up to him. "And sometimes, I don't even know how to talk to you or Natasha or Tony. I feel like I'm pretending. And I don't think I am, but I have that feeling. I feel like I'm not real. I feel like I'm hiding from everyone and I don't know why."

"Then I guess it's pointless to ask why," Steve shifted on the couch and kept watching Harry. The boy had pulled his knees up to his chest. "We never finished our talk, Harry. About... sadness. Do you still feel like that?"

Harry nodded, "It's not as bad. But it's not... good. I don't have dreams anymore, which is good. I'm just-" He sighed. "What happens when I don't have the potion anymore? Am I just going to have to keep dreaming the dreams. I don't want that." He stopped and shook his head, looking anywhere in the room but Steve.

"You might not want my opinion, once you hear it, but I'd like to you consider it. Don't take your potion tonight." Harry met his eyes then and Steve help up a finger. "You're incredibly brave, Harry, and you need to be. Even when the monster you're facing isn't visible. Don't take it tonight, and see what happens. I'll even stay with you, if you'd like. I'm sure any of us would, all you need do is ask."

Steve left his statement at that and Harry didn't reply. They continued their afternoon in a comfortable silence, the both of them wrapped up in their own heads to manage a conversation with one another. When night came, Harry did as Steve said.

Sleep didn't come immediately as it did with the potion, but when it did, he slept peacefully through the night."

Chapter End Notes

Wow. I am so sorry I haven't updated in... literally a year. I hope this sates the people that continuously followed this story, and if it didn't, I apologize.

Strange Feelings

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

His lessons with Loki had been ... strange.

Loki's way of using magic was so different from what he'd learned in the past four years at Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, wands were used to focus their magic so that it could alter something in the physical world. What Loki was teaching him, however, focused more on familiarizing himself with how the atmosphere changed while using the magic. It was fascinating, and Harry had tried to explain it to Bruce more than once. Rather than using an excess of energy to change things around him, he learned how to harness the energy around him and use it to his advantage. Loki wasn't as focused on his ability to change the colours of objects, but rather his ability to assess potential threats. He'd tried to tell Bruce it was like seeing with his eyes shut. Harry knew that Hermione would love studying under Loki, and quite frankly, would probably be able to better articulate the actual processes they were learning.

"How have you been sleeping?" The smooth voice drew him out of his musings. The way Loki looked at him told him the god already knew the answer.

Harry shifted in his armchair, "Better. I don't need the potion to go to sleep anymore. Nightmares aren't as frequent." When he didn't continue, Loki merely raised an eyebrow. "I've been having weird dreams," he nodded, avoiding Loki's piercing gaze. "They don't really feel like dreams, though, they're so real. I can feel things around me, touch them. Just not the people."

Loki sipped his tea and crossed his legs, "This has been happening for several weeks now, no? What's made you not ask me about them?"

Harry's ears went red, not answering the man for several moments. "I- I don't want them to stop. They've been peaceful, for the most part." At Loki's nod, he continued, "It's mostly just me standing behind or above my friends, my godfather. They just talk or play games or they're cleaning. It's mundane."

"And it comforts you."

"Yes."

"That's not all though, is it?"

"No." Harry answered truthfully. "I see Cedric sometimes. It's at Hogwarts, in one of the outside corridors." He shrugged, "We just talk. He's an interesting person. His dad's a bit of a cock, we both liked Quidditch." He squared his jaw, "Sometimes it's something different entirely. I'm walking in the dark and there's glowing orbs that whisper. I can't ever make out what they're saying. I've tried holding them up to my ears and smashing them. I've tried to just keep walking and see where I end up, but the doesn't end. Not until I wake up, anyway. And it doesn't even end when I wake up. The team feels different. Sometimes, if I look too closely at them, I- I see their lives. Well, not their lives, but snippets. I've seen Nat doing ballet and Steve sitting on a dock. It's like I'm in their heads or something."

Loki listened carefully, seemingly deep in thought. "You are. In their heads, that is. I would first like to apologize for this oversight."

The man stood and began to pace the room, "With the way we are learning, I am training you to open up to your environment. However, I have failed to teach you how to close yourself off. To protect yourself. You see their memories because you're unintentionally picking at their brains. You've heard of a Pensieve, yes?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "So, a Pensieve is used to store personal memories by extracting them from one's head to allow for better viewing. You're essentially doing the same thing - but instead of oneself removing and viewing the memory, you're viewing either something important to them or something they're thinking about at the time. As for the visions of your friends, I suspect you're entering one of their heads. Maybe it's a live picture, perhaps a snippet from the day's happenings. I can't be sure, but if you feel like they're able to see him, it's likely you're seeing through one of them. You might not want to stop having these dreams, but we do need to take this seriously. If you're exploring in your sleep, it makes you vulnerable. If you can explore, others can and will find you, your friends, and us."

Silence fell over the room and Harry visibly deflated. He understood Loki's concern - he'd been writing Hermione more over the past few weeks and Voldemort was definitely gaining both strength and followers. He needed to be able to protect himself. The fact didn't make it any easier, however. He missed his friends and little bits of their day made him worry less about them. Loki was right, it did comfort him. Once again, he was being asked to give a bit of his happiness for the greater good.

"Alright. Where do we start?"

PAGE BREAK

"Should we send him to school?"

Tony looked up from his workbench to see Bruce, who had obviously been there a while and had made himself comfortable. The scientist shrugged, "I mean, I don't mind teaching him. He's a great student. But I feel like he needs to socialize with people his age."

"Most kids his age don't act like he does," Tony countered, stretching a bit. Christ, how long had he been down here? "I mean, he gets along great with Cap, you'd think he was a forty year old." He held up his hand when Bruce started to open his mouth, "Yes, I know it's because they both feel out of place, but that's the problem, isn't it? He won't fit in with kids his age, especially in New York. Most fourteen year olds don't have the amount of trauma he has either."

"He's nearly fifteen now."

Tony rolled his eyes, "Yes, that whole year makes a world of difference in the maturity and gained trauma of teenagers. My bad."

Bruce sighed and leaned on the table, "You know what I mean, Tony. And I'd think you'd be surprised at the trauma levels of teenagers these days, especially in New York. No, it won't quite meet Harry's level, but I'm sure he'd be able to bond with at least one person. He made us all like him."

"Teenagers are ruthless, Bruce." Tony ran a hand down his face, "Fine, I have another reason. He's my kid. I'd go as far as to say he's one of the smartest kids in the state. He'll get bored, just like I did, and we all know where that led me. I don't want that for him."

"Tony. You know as well I do that there are schools explicitly for gifted children. There's several, in fact. In New York." He pushed a file he had on the table over to Tony. "I did some research and found some good schools. Please think about it. Talk to him about it, he may feel strongly one way or the other." Bruce stood, but paused before he reached the door, "He has a support system you didn't, Tony. I don't think he'll go down the same path. But even if he does, we'll be here to catch him. Anyway, ending up like you wouldn't be the worst thing for him." Bruce offered the other a small smile and left the room as quietly as he entered. Tony sighed and looked down at the manila folder in front of him, lazily flicking it open and beginning to read through the information Bruce had given him.

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Birthdays were never really something he had looked forward to before. In fact, they were hardly celebrated. Maybe a little extra food at dinner or a new pair of socks, but never really a cake and festivities. So, when he awoke on the 31st, he certainly didn't expect the banners, balloons, and confetti all around the common room. The entire team was standing around, ready to yell, "Happy Birthday!" Harry smiled unlike he had before. Yes, his friends celebrating his birthday was a treat for him, but this was a crowd of adults that had decided he was worth celebrating. That he was worth something. "I wish I had brushed my teeth now," he said, walking towards them as they beckoned him forward. Behind them lay a table of modest presents, all wrapped nice and neatly. "This is all for me?" He asked, walking letting Tony guide him to a seat on the sofa.

"Well, of course," Thor boomed, a slightly confused look coming over his face. "Who else would it be for? This is your day of birth, young Stark."

Harry shrugged, not really knowing how to tell the god that he wasn't normally met with fanfare. Tony, however, saved him from answering by shoving a box onto his lap. "You have to open mine first," he declared, taking a seat beside him, "Because I'm your dad and all."

"Okay then," Harry smiled, carefully unwrapping the thin box. "A laptop?" He asked, a strange look on his face.

Tony nodded, "I thought it was about time you got one of your own. As much as your quill and ink interest me, I don't think having 21st century technology at your fingertips wouldn't be a bad idea. If you don't like it, we can take it back, exchange it out. Hell, I could build you a new one. Teach you how to build one."

Harry's eyes widened with each sentence, very aware of how nervous Tony was. "No, it's brilliant. Thank you." He set it aside and gratefully accepted the next package. Steve got him a oil paint set and a few new notebooks. Natasha gifted him some new clothing (which he was secretly the most appreciative of), Bruce gave him a rock collection. Loki gave him a old book from his personal collection (he couldn't wait to write Fred and George about that) and Thor gifted him ... an axe. A whole axe, about half the size of him.

"I heard you've been training in hand to hand combat. One day you'll be able to wield this with ease. You are a great warrior, young Stark, and I will be honored for you to use this in battle." Harry nodded at Thor's statement, enjoying the mirth in Natasha's eyes and the unease in Tony's. Finally, a parcel from England was handed to him. Inside was a mix of items, obviously collected from the various members staying with Sirius. Some of the twin's joke candies, but more importantly, a few books on runes from Hermione and a mirror from Sirius with a note attached. He closed the box, choosing to examine it closer in private. He beamed at those around him, thankful for the family they'd created most of all. "Breakfast?"

Chapter End Notes

Oh wow, it's been a while. As a treat, here's a moderately long chapter!
Holy hell was this a coping mechanism. It's a bit jarring, actually, rereading this. My entire world has changed since starting this and it's crazy to look back at the projection. Oop. As always, I guarantee nothing in terms of updates. I might update tomorrow, it could be another two years. Who's to say?

Afterword

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