-Chapter 1-

"Hermione!"

Harry awoke with a shout. Blinded by the bright lights he rolled off something soft and landed on the floor, quickly scrambling to his feet. His hands were frantically searching his pockets for the holly wand, but it was gone.

His eyes slowly started to focus more and he realized that he wasn't in the ministry anymore. Harry looked around and found his glasses on the night table beside the hospital bed he had apparantly fallen off of.

He already knew he wasn't in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts and probably also not at St Mungo's. He couldn't detect the smell of potions he was accustomed to and nothing seemed familiar otherwise.

Suddenly he jumped as a bodiless voice that seemed to come from all sides addressed him: "I see you have awakened, Sir. Dr Banner should be with you shortly."

The wizard still tried to find the source of the voice as the door opened.

A middle-aged man with greying hair and kind, brown eyes entered the room.

"Hello. I'm Bruce Banner. I see you are feeling better. Would you mind sitting down and letting me give you a quick check-up? That was quite the fall."

What was that accent? American? Does that mean-

"Where am I?" His voice sounded raspy.

At this moment, the door was opened again and a brown-haired man in his fourties barged in.

"You are in my tower. I thought maybe you noticed when you came falling from the sky and broke my platform. Still don't know how you managed that."

Harry took a weary step back.

"What's going on here? Who are you?"

The man seemed surprised and slightly insulted at the same time.

"Where did you live until now? Under a rock? I'm Tony Stark; genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Iron Man? Jarvis, does he have a concussion or something?"

Dr Banner interrupted him before he could continue: "Tony, please just stop for a minute."

He turned to Harry: "Your accent doesn't sound American. Where are you from? Are you British maybe?"

"So I am in America? That's bad. That's really really bad. I have to go now."

His hand automatically reached for his wand again but didn't find anything.

"How long was I unconcious?"

"About a day. It's now March 14."

"Bullocks. Wait, what? No, it was 18. June. I'm sure of it." He was getting more anxious by the minute.

He halted.

"What year is it?"

"What?"

"What year is it?"

"2013?"

Harry blanched.