The next day, Stark was a man on a mission.
He went between drawing diagrams and equations on scraps of paper, to looking at the metal restrictors around Harry's wrists to inspecting the various tools and devices around the cave.
At times, he got Harry to pick up or hold heated bits of metal, as though testing his resistance to heat.
Harry didn't like the grabbing and the close scrutiny, or the bright lights Stark was determined to work under, but he put up with it, knowing that Tony was working on a way to free his magic. He longed for the feeling of using it again, anything to get rid of the cuffs sapping it from his core.
Harry hadn't realised how much he had missed it, but being told that he would be able to use magic again made him sick to his stomach with hope. He didn't know how long he had been hidden away in this cave – or even where the cave was – but however much time had passed, it was too long. He suspected it was months.
For a long time before Yinsen had arrived, Harry had been on his own. Even when the Afghani man had helped set his bones when the ten rings had finished torturing him and taking his blood, he didn't speak much. It had taken him weeks to find out that Yinsen even spoke English.
For five days Harry watched Stark work in silence, ignoring any attempts to pull him into conversation.
Harry didn't like talking. The torture from the ten rings had at one point permanently damaged his tongue and vocal cords; a piece of metal had been imbedded in the back of his tongue and throat that Yinsen hadn't been around to remove. Harry had healed around it, making it impossible to remove now.
He didn't want to form attachments to anyone else that might get hurt or simply leave him, and it had been drilled into his head from a young age that he was to be seen and not heard, and preferably not seen, either. Stark, however, seemed determined to get him to talk, not at all bothered by Harry's eyes or healing ability or the small flames that danced around his fingertips. It was a refreshing change from the Dursley's and Yinsen's obvious fear. It probably didn't help that for the first few weeks or months he had known Yinsen he had told him his name was Peter Granger, the same name he had given Raza and his men whenever they asked. They didn't seem to know he was Harry Potter, but he didn't know if they knew anything about the wizarding world, and he wasn't about to tell them that they had kidnapped one of the most famous people in magical Britain.
Stark was no closer to finding a way three days later when the ten rings stormed into the cave and threw a hood over Harry's head before pulling him down the now-familiar route.
41 steps, then 16 steps. Left through a door, then four steps. He felt a cool breeze from an open door or the entrance to the cave, before he was pulled the final 20 steps into a white tiled room and thrown to the ground.
Harry didn't like to think about the things they did to him in that room, but he was proud that he managed to stay conscious for longer than normal, the knowledge of what Tony Stark was working on giving him the hope and stubbornness to ignore the pain.
When he woke up on the small camp bed in the cave, the first thing he noticed were the bandages wrapped around his hands and forearms. He gingerly pulled one off, and a smile spread across his face for the first time since before he had gone down into the Chamber of Secrets. The metal band was gone, a thick scar surrounded by raw red skin all that was left. He didn't think the skin would ever heal properly – most of the cuts he had received, especially early on that had got infected or had stone or metal in for a long time had left a scar, and he didn't even know how long the bands had been there – but he didn't care. His magic felt closer to the surface than he every remembered it being. He slowly sat up, then flexed his fingers. A large fireball appeared above his palm, reducing his vision to a blur of red and orange as flames licked at his fingers. Harry laughed and extinguished the fire.
He jumped to his feet and followed the man's smell to find Tony Stark at the back of the cave, drawing on sheets of tracing paper. Harry rushed forwards and threw his arms around the man. "Thank you." He said. "Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Thank you." He felt tears leaking from his eyes, and thought he might have accidentally thanked the man in Farsi as well.
Stark hesitantly patted him on the back, and Harry pulled back.
"Thank you." He said once more. He didn't know how to put into words what Stark had done for him; how much better he felt without the bands leeching off his magic.
"No problem." Stark said. "I thought I may as well do it whilst you were unconscious."
Although he was still rather weak, the next day Harry began heating metal and soldering wires for Tony. He stood with his back to the security camera to hide the fact that he wasn't using any equipment, and heated and melted where Tony directed him, wearing a pair of soldering goggles to darken the worst of the light.
"This would go much faster if you tell us what we're making." Yinsen said, hammering out a sheet of metal.
Stark seemed to think for a second, then nodded. "Come on."
He led them down to the back of the cave and gathered the various sheets of tracing paper together, stacking them on top of each other.
"What is it?" Yinsen asked.
"Flatten them out and see." Stark said, then spread out the papers. The drawings on each one lined up and formed a large metal suit, with weapons and armoured plating. "It's our ticket out of here."