Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

I went home the day I posted ch 36, and then was back in the hospital the very next day. I got super busy with school, and writing one-shots about my original child characters... I think this chapter might be closer to those than a lot of my other fanfic chapters.

Harry's happy that Steve's gone, but his dad hasn't stopped frowning and looking towards the road.

Harry tries to make his dad feel better by saying "Steve's probably not dead," but his dad's face doesn't change.

"The punk will get himself killed one day. Especially with no one to watch his back."

"I'll go," Mr. Stark claps Harry's dad on his metal shoulder, winces and then disappears into the school. He clomps out as Iron Man and hovers in the air.

"Can I go?" asks Harry, longing to fly again.

"No," his dad answers right away.

"Then you can't either." Harry grabs his dad's hand and tugs him back toward the court.

After Iron Man rockets away, Harry refuses to let go of his dad. He shrieks as his dad swings him up onto his skin shoulder, holding him almost high enough to dunk a basketball.

When Harry throws the ball from the ground, it doesn't even get close to the hoop.

Harry can't wait until he's grown like the big kids. If Harry was bigger, maybe Dudley wouldn't have hit him all the time. Harry smiles at the thought, but realizes he'd never be bigger than Uncle Vernon.

"Size ain't everything." Mr. Logan says after hearing Harry's wish to be bigger. Mr. Logan is shorter than all the other guys here, a lot of the women.

"Do you grow down?" Harry asks, confused about how some of the big kids are taller than Mr. Logan. Isn't he older?

Mr. Logan snorts. "No. I just didn't grow much."

The stick between Mr. Logan's teeth wiggles when he talks. Aunt Tuna said only horrible, nasty people used them, but she'd say that about wands too.

Mr. Logan pulls out a small box full of the sticks and offers one to Harry's dad. Harry's dad flicks something and lights the end of the stick on fire. He puts it in his mouth and puffs out smoke, like the dragons Piers told Dudley about before Aunt Tuna forbade him from talking about it.

"Can I try?" Harry begs.

"They're not for kids." Mr. Logan grunts, shoving the box back in his pocket.

Harry crosses his arms and says, again, "I wish I was bigger."

"You shouldn't have these, even when you're bigger." Harry's dad says.

"Why?"

"Ain't good for anyone really," Logan says. "but I heal."

"I heal!" Harry protests. "Sometimes I wake up and don't hurt anymore, even after Uncle Vernon gives me a thrashing."

Both Mr. Logan and Harry's dad look furious, and Harry bites down on his lip to shut up. He doesn't say anything about Mr. Moody making his knee better.

Nobody says anything for a bit, and then Mr. Logan nods at the orange ball laying forgotten on the court. "Try to score some more."

"I can't." Harry says, much quieter. He'd need a broomstick, like Quidditch, or a flying motorbike. Mr. Stark said he'd make one, but now he's gone with Steve.

"You don't need anything but yourself." says a voice behind him. Ms. Jean. Without anyone touching it, the basketball lifts off the ground, flies over the court, and swishes through the net.

"Dad! Did you see?!" Harry shouts, running after the ball. The ball changes direction mid-bounce to hop over to Harry.

Harry throws the ball over and over, but he can't get it to fly, even when he tries pushing with hands he can't see.

Harry spots Mr. Moody watching from the side, and remembers that he'd made a ball fly too. "Can I use your wand? Please?"

"No." Mr. Moody growls. "It wouldn't listen to you."

Remembering the wand he'd grabbed on the plane, and how the window exploded, Harry nods. He doesn't want the basketball to explode, even if Mr. Moody could fix it, just like he had back at Mr. Stark's house.

When it's time for Harry to visit Professor X's office, Harry doesn't let his dad leave.

The professor's office looks fancy and old, a little like the place Dumb-Bell-Door brought them, only the Professor's a lot nicer. He lets Harry play with the horse head and other strange-shaped toys that sit on a board that looks like kitchen tiles. Harry makes some of them HYDRA, and the two he's using as Iron Man and Captain America take them down.

As he's playing, Harry tells the Professor "Matilda's better than me."

"I wouldn't want anyone else as my kid." Harry's dad lays a hand on his shoulder. "Not Robin nor Matilda."

Harry sits stiffly. "You want Steve."

Harry's dad blows out a heavy breath, only there's no smoke now. "I stayed with you."

"Harry," Professor X says, "Steve means a lot to your dad, but that doesn't mean he'll stop caring about you."

Harry drops the figures. Aunt Tuna and Uncle Vernon only cared about Dudley.

Harry crawls into his dad's lap, sniveling like the sissy boy Uncle Vernon said he was. He hears Professor X more than his dad, even though Harry's ear is right next to his dad's mouth. The professor keeps saying that Harry is safe now, that his aunt and uncle won't hurt him here.

"My dad beat 'em." Harry mumbles once he's stopped sobbing. He stares at the scattered pieces on the board. "An' Iron Man's going to win 'gainst HYDRA."

"It won't be fast." Harry's dad says. "Steve fought them before, and they came back."

That's because Steve isn't as cool as Iron Man.

Harry slides off his dad's lap, and picks up one of the pieces with a ball on one end. He smashes the ball into the HYDRA pieces, just like the Bludgers Mr. Moody had told him about.

When Harry tries throwing the piece to make it soar, it crashes to the squares below.

"Why can't I do it?" Harry asks after another throw ends with the piece crashing down. "Ms. Grey made the ball fly."

"Most of my students cannot control their powers when they arrive."

"The big kids can." Harry grumbles. They can do lots of things he can't, like read, shoot hoops, stay up late. He's seen some of them use powers.

"They're still learning." Professor X says. "I taught Jean and Scott to control their powers when they were far older than you."

"Matilda's five, and she can."

"She practiced." Harry's dad tells him. "If you practice, you'll get better."

When their session is over, Harry pulls his dad back to the courts, but Ms. Jean is gone and several big kids are playing ball. None of them make the ball fly like Ms. Jean.

Harry rushes in, thinking about the ball flying to him, but it doesn't. The big kids keep throwing over his head, and Harry gets more and more frustrated until one time, the ball suddenly stops above him and bounces right at his feet.

Harry grins as he grabs it. Did he do that?!

Harry shouts. "Dad! Did you see? Look what I did!"

He hurls it up at the hoop with all his might, and it hits the rim this time.

Harry's dad lifts him onto his shoulder again. One of the big kids throws the ball up to him. Harry throws it and it hits the outside of the rim. Instead of bouncing away, the ball rolls up over the rim to fall through the net.

"I did it!" Harry shouts. It didn't happen every time he wanted it to, but it happened. Some of the big kids cheer, and Harry grins down at them..

He can't wait to show Mr. Stark.

As Harry is carried on his dad's shoulder around the court, he almost feels like he's flying.