Harry climbed out of the car, staring through the fading light at the building in front of him in shock.

Stark's Malibu house was perched on a cliff top high above the sea, all smooth white stone and glass. There was a helipad off to his right, and no other buildings for hundreds of miles around. The driveway itself had to have been at least 4km long.

He followed Tony into the huge building, and the man gave him a brief tour around the building. "We'll go shopping tomorrow." He said. "We'll get anything you need. Clothes, books, games, whatever. I meant it earlier when I said you're family." Tony showed him into a bedroom. "You can stay in here." He said. "It's furthest from the lab and the kitchen, so hopefully your senses won't... you know..." He gestured vaguely with his hands. "I'm just down the hall, if you need anything, and you know where everything is, and-"

Harry caught his waving hands in his own and stopped him mid-sentence. "Thank you." He tried to put everything he could into those two words; his appreciation for letting him stay here, his gratitude for everything he did inside that cave and during the escape, how much it meant to him that Tony hadn't ditched him as soon as they reached the US. He must have been at least partly successful, or perhaps Tony was just used to deciphering the multiple meanings behind Harry's 1 or 2 word sentences, as Tony gently clapped a hand on his shoulder in understanding.

"I'll be in the lab."

Tony turned and left him on his own, and Harry looked around the room. It was huge, at least three times the size of Dudley's bedroom. One wall was completely made of glass, with an incredible view over the sea. There was a large double bed in the centre of the room, and matching bedside tables, chest of drawers and shelves, as well as a large desk next to the huge windows. A door led to a magnificent bathroom, with dark marble tiles and a bathtub sunk into the floor, and a second revealed a wardrobe the size of the Dursleys' garden shed.

Harry sank onto the end of the bed, his hands running over the unbelievably soft material of the covers. He felt tears on his cheeks and wiped them away, surprised. He didn't think he'd cried since the first week in Afghanistan, and before that... he couldn't even remember. He fingered the clean white bandage that had been wrapped around the raw scar tissue around his wrists by the military doctor and felt a surge of emotions: Anger at the ten rings for kidnapping him. Grief that Yinsen had not made it out of the cave with them. Resentment at Albus Dumbledore for kicking him out of Hogwarts and making it so that he was kidnapped in the first place. Relief that he was finally, finally away from the torture.

His vision blurred through the tears and he closed his eyes, letting them run down his cheeks silently.

The acrid scent of smoke invaded his nostrils. Harry's eyes suddenly jumped open, and he caught sight of dark tendrils rising off him and the bed. He jumped up and ripped his t-shirt off, stamping it out and hastily patting at the smouldering duvet. He looked guiltily at the ash on the pristine carpet and the dark holes in the duvet.

Harry caught sight of a familiar welt across his ribs, a dark mark left from a belt, years old and unhealed by the phoenix tears. There were more across his back, a few creeping around his chest and arms. The TV on the wall opposite him came to life before buzzing into static.

His spiralling thoughts turned to Ginny, and the tears fell faster, that helpless feeling creeping in that he wasn't able to save her, wasn't even able to save himself before the basilisk bit him, securing his future as an even bigger freak. He almost thought it would have been better if Fawkes hadn't reached him in time, if he had died down in that chamber with Ginny. He didn't even know if he could die.

The TV sparked and switched off with a wisp of pungent smoke as countless emotions churned in his stomach.

Harry hugged his knees to his chest. His head was spinning, overcome with feelings and emotions; grief, happiness, self-loathing, disbelief, gratitude, anger, disgust, glee, shock, loneliness, and that overwhelming relief, combined with the newly-restored tingle of magic flowing just under his skin.

He thought about Ron and Hermione, speculating about what they were doing now, and if they had noticed when he stopped writing. Harry wondered if their time at Hogwarts without him had been as eventful as their first 2 years, and gave a small chuckle. The chuckle grew, until he was full-on laughing as he sat on the huge, soft bed, tears streaming down his face.

His throat felt tight, and he rested his forehead on his knees, curling up as small as he could, still sobbing and laughing and feeling unbelievably confused.

Harry jumped as a cold powder settled over his arms and back, and looked up to see Tony pointing a small fire extinguisher at him. His eyes snapped around the room and he realised he had set the bed on fire, smoke rising up from the dark blue duvet and curling towards the ceiling.

"-you alright?" Tony asked, approaching him slowly. He wasn't wearing a shirt.

Harry nodded, grinning. He was the best he could remember feeling in over a year. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing out the white powder, and looked around the room guiltily. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Tony said, eyes not leaving Harry's face.

He was sure he must look a state, tear tracks across his cheeks, fire extinguisher covering him from head to foot, and a huge grin on his face.

"We were calling your name."

It was only then that Harry noticed Pepper stood in the doorway. "I didn't hear you."

Harry didn't need to be able to see the expression on Tony's face to see he didn't believe him.

"Come on Harry, let's get you out of here." Pepper said, walking into the room and taking him by the hand. Harry let himself be lead out as she wrapped an arm around his bare shoulders protectively. It was only then that he noticed he was shaking.

Pepper showed him into another room and through to the bathroom, talking soothingly as she helped him out of the burnt trousers he was wearing and into the shower, then into a pair of pyjama bottoms and an oversized sweatshirt when he got out.

Harry didn't protest as she steered him towards the bed, and thought he was probably asleep before his head hit the pillow.