NOTE: Mea culpa. I know Sir Arthur was British, not American - I've read and enjoyed too many of his stories not to know - but somehow I missed that on the read-through. No disrespect to Sir Arthur was intended; it was just honest error. I'm fixing it now.
AUGUST 1
Steve had visited London once during the war, if you counted a stopover between New York and the Eastern Front as "visiting." He hadn't had time to see the sights then, though, so this morning, just as dawn crept over the city, he pulled on a T-shirt, track pants, and running shoes.
His morning run, planned with JARVIS' assistance, would take him all the way to Buckingham Palace and back, passing the Tower of London, the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the Tate Gallery, Trafalgar Square and St. Paul's Cathedral along the way.
The route would take almost two hours, and he'd still likely be back before Tony and Harry were up. Certainly before Tony was awake, he acknowledged wryly, as the other man had spent much of the night in his workshop working on who-knew-what.
He paused at the door to his room. "JARVIS? Please alert security that I'm taking the stairs down."
"Done, Captain."
"Thanks," Steve replied and turned toward the emergency exit.
Fifty stories later, he pushed open the door to the alley behind the London version of Stark Tower. He turned toward the main street, only to be stopped by an excited yip.
He turned and saw a large black dog sitting by the trash bin, tongue lolling and tail wagging madly back and forth across the sidewalk.
"Hey, fella." Steve bent to scratch the dog's ears. Something about the dog seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. He put that thought aside and addressed the dog as though it were a person. "Pretty sure you don't want to try to keep up with me. But if you're still here when I get back, I'll make sure you get a meal."
The dog yipped again and licked Steve's hand.
"Good boy." Steve rubbed the dog's head again and then set off.
Much to Steve's surprise, the dog met him two blocks from Stark Tower and Steve slowed his pace so it could keep up as he finished his run.
"Guess I owe you a meal," he said, scratching the dog's ears. "Be right back."
Steve headed in the main doors, and the dog tried to follow him.
"No," Steve told him, holding up a hand, palm outward. "Stay."
The dog whined, but sat near the door, his expression clearly showing he didn't like the order.
Steve made his way to the employee cafeteria and selected a couple of hamburgers and hot dogs, and a heaping pile of pancakes for himself.
Once he paid for them - at prices he would've expected in 1940 rather than 2020, which made him appreciate Tony's consideration for his employees - he headed back downstairs to the dog, who hadn't moved from where he'd left it.
"Good boy," Steve said. "Let's get out of people's way while we eat, huh?"
He led the dog - or, more accurately, herded the dog - back around to the alley where he'd first left the building and, setting the to-go container with his pancakes on a lidded trash can, placed the burgers and hot dogs on the ground. The dog didn't quite lunge for them, but it was close.
"I have no idea why the cafeteria has hot dogs and hamburgers this early in the morning," Steve told the dog as he patted its shoulder as it ate, "but I'm glad it does. You probably like those better than oatmeal or eggs."
The dog didn't stop eating, but its tail wagged madly.
Grinning, Steve picked up his carton of pancakes. He leaned against the wall, opened the carton, and began to eat.
At a quarter to eight, Tony stumbled into the kitchen, past his son who sat at the dining table in his new pajamas with a book open before him and … was that really a quill pen in Harry's hand, or did Tony need coffee?
That was a question that answered itself, so Tony crossed to the coffee station and poured a mug of steaming coffee. He added enough cream to cool it to drinking temperature and took a long swallow.
Half the mug later, Tony felt awake enough to say, "Hit me with it, J."
"Good morning, sir," came JARVIS' prompt response. "Ms. Potts requests that you call her at your convenience, but not earlier than two p.m. London time, on a matter of importance but not urgency, to do with a motion before the board of directors. Project CA-21B has been crated for shipment and is en route to the airport now. It should arrive and be set up by six p.m."
"Sounds good," Tony said, pouring a second mug. "And Spangles?"
"Captain Rogers left at five fifty-two for a morning run," JARVIS reported. Tony grimaced. "He returned at seven thirty-nine and proceeded to the cafeteria where he purchased pancakes, hamburgers, and hot dogs."
Tony paused with the cup halfway to his mouth. "Odd breakfast choice."
"If you'll look to the screen, sir," JARVIS said, in a tone even drier than usual, "you'll see that he wanted the hamburgers and hot dogs for another purpose."
Tony glanced up at the screen where he saw Rogers leaning against the alley wall eating pancakes while a large black dog gobbled at the hamburgers and hot dogs on the ground before him.
"Huh." Tony took another swallow of coffee and saw Harry frowning at the screen. "Something wrong, Harry?"
Harry started, and turned to him. "Oh. Um -" he broke off, obviously hesitant.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me," Tony said. "Or ask me. I promise I won't get upset." He pursed his lips. "Okay, maybe I'll get upset, but I won't hate you or not want you around anymore. I promise."
Harry hesitated a moment longer before saying, "Isn't it - um - rude? Intrusive? That JARVIS keeps track of Captain Rogers?"
"JARVIS keeps track of everyone at SI, to some degree or other," Tony replied. He topped off his coffee mug and came to sit across from Harry. "And it's a little intrusive, but everyone who works here is informed that they'll be monitored for security purposes. After the mess with Romanoff and SHIELD, I'm taking no chances that SI will be hacked again."
Harry blinked at him - and now that Tony was sufficiently caffeinated, he saw that yes, his son was holding a quill pen - and said, "I didn't understand half of that, but okay, I get it that as an employer, you have a responsibility to the company. But what about Captain Rogers? What about me?"
"If I may, sir?" JARVIS said.
"Go for it, J."
"I am aware of everyone who enters and leaves the building," JARVIS said. "This is a basic security protocol. I do not actively monitor anyone who isn't an employee, but there are certain phrases or actions that will alert my subroutines and draw my full attention. In Captain Rogers' case, he asked my assistance in planning a jogging route for him, so I knew where he was going."
"What about me?" Harry asked.
"Per Sir's instructions, I am monitoring you more closely, for security reasons only," JARVIS said. "At this time, few people know you are Sir's son, but that news will get out, and when it does, there will be - I believe the term is a media frenzy."
"Oh." Harry actually shrugged. "I'm kind of used to that."
"What?" Tony asked.
"When I first went into the magical world - or, really, went back to it - everybody recognized me."
"That's not really an answer," Tony said. "How and why did they recognize you?"
Harry frowned. "I'm - not really sure. I mean, I know my parents died fighting a dark wizard, and that he was somehow defeated that night, but I don't remember it. But -"
"But?" Tony prompted when Harry hesitated again.
"But there are books that talk about it," he said. "Hermione said I'm in Modern Magical History, and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. Maybe they have pictures?"
"Do you remember anyone taking pictures of you, at any time?" Tony asked.
"No," Harry said, and looked down at the book in front of him. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never took pictures of me. And I didn't go many places but their house and school, a park or playground sometimes, but I guess someone could've taken some then."
"But you're famous in the magical world."
"They call me the Boy-Who-Lived."
"Well, that's horrible," Tony said, and Harry looked up at him, obviously startled.
"You're the only one who gets that," he said.
"Really?" Tony held up a hand. "I'm not disbelieving you, I'm just surprised."
Harry shrugged his good shoulder. "It's some big … myth. Legend, maybe. Nobody knows what happened that night Whatever anyone writes is just speculation, and I can do that on my own."
"True enough," Tony conceded, then nodded at the paper in front of Harry. "That your letter to Professor McWhatsername?"
"McGonagall," Harry corrected. "And yes."
"I dictated mine last night," Tony said. "Someone will bring it up when you're ready."
"Sir," JARVIS said, "Captain Rogers offered to help in any way he can. Would you prefer if he went to pick it up, to minimize the young sir's exposure to other people?"
Tony considered the question. He couldn't keep Harry secluded forever - and he didn't want to, not after how he'd been treated by those wastes of flesh called the Dursleys - but he didn't feel comfortable letting too many people around Harry yet, at least not until he understood magic better.
Magic. Despite his words to Steve last night, Tony's head still warped when he tried to think about it.
He looked to Harry to get his opinion, and found his son staring at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
"What?" Tony asked.
"You're - you're asking Captain America to be your postman?"
The question startled Tony into laughter. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but yeah."
"I believe," JARVIS said, reproof coloring his tone, "that the captain offered the service."
"Still," Harry began, but Tony shook his head.
"We accept with thanks," he said. When Harry was about to protest, Tony leaned forward. "I just want you to have a little more time to adjust before we out you to the world. The fewer people who see you, talk to you, the better right now. It won't be for long, I promise."
"I -" Harry took a breath and appeared to summon all the courage he had before he met Tony's gaze squarely. "I don't have a lot of experience trusting adults. Not good experience, anyway."
It took him a moment to subdue the sudden burst of anger that flared in his gut, at the Dursleys and at every other adult who'd failed Harry, but Tony managed a smile and said, "Then we'll work on getting you some."
Harry smiled bashfully, and, thankfully, before the moment got too maudlin, the door to the stairs opened and Steve came through, looking freshly showered and shaved to judge by his still-damp hair.
"Good morning," Steve said, sounding way too cheerful for this time of day, as he crossed to the table and put a sheet of paper and pen on the table beside Tony. "Your letter."
"Thanks, Cap," Tony said, and waved his mug toward the kitchen. "Coffee's on - probably more to your liking than the cafeteria stuff."
"You give your employees substandard coffee?" Steve asked.
"Of course not, and thanks for the vote of confidence," Tony said without any real heat. It was a valid question, after all, even if the doubt that prompted it … hurt. "I just like mine stronger than most people do. Figure you might, too."
"Ah." Steve looked abashed. "Sorry for implying otherwise."
"No problem," Tony said and read over the letter. When he finished, he nodded to himself. The tone might be on the brusque side of businesslike, but at this point, he didn't care. He signed his name and looked up at Harry.
"Is yours ready?"
"I think so," Harry replied. "And - and I wrote to my friend Hermione, too. I hope that's okay."
"Of course it is," Tony assured him. "We both have some life changes to make now, but that doesn't mean I want you to leave all your friends behind."
Harry ducked his head again and mumbled a "Thank you."
"What now?" Tony asked. "We take these up to Hedwig? And then what?"
Harry smiled, and it was full of pride. "She'll take them to Professor McGonagall. And then she'll take mine to Hermione."
"Hm." Tony thought about that for a moment, then said, "Well, let's get up there. The sooner she starts, the sooner we'll have an idea how to proceed."
Minutes later, Tony led the way onto the roof garden and over to where Hedwig perched on the gazebo railing. He'd caught a flash of her white plumage as the elevator door opened, and now she sat waiting regally for them.
"You," he told her, "are one beautiful owl." And it was simply the truth - snowy owls were always his favorite owl. Not that he saw many of them outside of nature documentaries that he sometimes turned on in a last-ditch effort to get some sleep after working all night on a project.
Hedwig ruffled her feathers and gave an approving bark.
"And she's smart," Harry said, hobbling up beside him. "That's even better than beautiful."
Harry reached out to stroke Hedwig's feathers, and she nipped at his fingers. Tony's first instinct was to help his son, but Harry was smiling and Tony allowed himself to relax. Maybe that was a sign of affection between them?
"We've got some letters to Professor McGonagall," Harry said. "And then I have a note for Hermione. Are you rested enough to take them?"
Hedwig hooted and held out her leg. Harry started to attach the letters, and Tony had a thought. "Just give her the ones to your professor right now."
Hedwig barked indignantly - and why was Tony applying human emotions to an owl? - and Harry looked up with a frown.
"I don't mean she can't take the one to Hermione - did I say that right?" Tony hurried to assure his son. "Just that she should stop back here before she does. I'll have something for Hermione, too."
"What?" Harry asked.
Tony grinned. "Birthday present."
"Hers isn't until September," Harry said.
"But yours was yesterday," Tony said. "And it's a present for you, too."
He grinned at Harry's baffled expression, then looked at Hedwig. "So - I wasn't ready for a pet owl, but I can adapt. What do you want? A perch?"
Hedwig barked.
"Okay, I don't know if that's a yes or a no," Tony said. "How about this - hoot for yes, bark for no? That work?"
Hedwig hooted.
Tony grinned. "Great. Perch?"
Another bark.
"Huh, so I guessed right." Tony privately congratulated himself for that before asking, "Nest?"
A double bark.
"I think she'll make her own," Harry offered. "If you'll let her, I mean."
"Sure, you bet," Tony said. "Wherever you want on the roof is fine. Okay, how about this - is there anything you need from us humans right now?"
Hedwig barked.
"Okay, then," Tony said. "We'll make sure there's always water in the birdbath, and I'll have someone install a button that you can tap if you need our attention for anything."
"Can - can she come inside, sometimes?" Harry asked. "She always stayed in my room at my uncle's house."
"I assume she's housebroken?" Tony asked and got rewarded by an indignant hoot from Hedwig and a glare from his son. He shrugged both off. "Question had to be asked. JARVIS, get someone to add a call button for her."
"Of course, sir," JARVIS replied. "And I shall order a perch and stand for her as well, just to be thorough."
"Great," Tony said.
"What about this little guy?" Steve asked from where he sat at the table inside the gazebo, stroking the feathers of the Great Grey Owl that had come with Hedwig and promptly fallen unconscious on arrival. It was awake now, finally, and obviously enjoying the attention.
"That's Errol," Harry said. "He belongs to my friend Ron's family, and he's … not …. Ron said he's ancient."
"Shouldn't he be heading back to them, then?" Tony asked.
"He probably will," Harry said. "As soon as he's fully recovered."
"Right," Tony said. "J, have some of whatever we have that's good for owls brought up for Errol - and Hedwig, too, if she wants any before she leaves."
Hedwig made a prek sound and took off, banking so that she whacked Tony's head with her wing as she soared into the sky.
Tony glared after her. "A bark would've been fine!"
He shook his head and turned back to see Steve and Harry both grinning madly.
"I think she likes you," Harry confessed.
"Of course she does, I'm very likable," Tony replied, and ignored Steve's quiet snort. "So a dish of water and … what do owls like to eat?"
"Hedwig loves bacon," Harry replied. "But probably any meat would be good, especially if it's raw."
"J?" Tony asked.
"I've already requested bowls of water and raw meat to be brought up from the cafeteria," JARVIS replied. "After the breakfast rush is over."
"Okay, then, that's settled." Tony rubbed his hands together. "Today I get to see a magical … what? City? Town?"
"Street," his son replied, then frowned. "Or several streets, I think. Neighborhood, maybe?"
"That's disappointing," Tony said.
"Maybe it's good to start small," Steve offered.
"Have you met me?" Tony demanded.
"And your father, too," Steve shot back without heat. "I know it's not in your nature to take things slow, Tony - but this is a lot to take in, for anybody."
"I think he's doing quite well," Harry said. "Certainly better than -" he broke off, his expression uncertain.
"Better than most, probably," Steve finished diplomatically. "Especially with Hedwig - you treated her almost like one of the family."
"Because she is," Tony replied, and was rewarded by Harry's bright smile. "Okay, so where are we going today?"
"Diagon Alley," Harry replied. "Off Charing Cross Road."
"And where are we going once we get there?" Steve asked.
"Gringotts," Harry said promptly. "It's the wizarding bank. I need to get money for my school things."
"Pish." Tony waved that away. "I'm pretty sure as your father it's my duty to pay for things like that."
"They only take galleons," Harry said, and Tony blinked.
"Wooden cargo ships?" he asked, perversely pleased that Steve looked just as puzzled as he felt.
Harry laughed - actually laughed, long and hard, and Tony hoped that he'd hear more of that from his son as time went on. "Gold coins," he finally gasped.
"Oh." Tony hadn't expected that. Then again, what could he have expected from a magical world? "Then let's see how much you have, and if you need more, there's got to be a way to convert dollars, or pounds, to gallons."
"Galleons," Steve offered gently.
"Right, that." Tony grinned. "So - everyone fed ? Then let's go."