In the end, Tony had to play the guardian card to convince Harry to let him pay for Harry's holster and a second one for his other arm.
"No sense tipping anyone off where the attack's coming from," Steve said when Harry protested the second bracer.
Harry had, however, paid for the holster for his friend. "She's my friend. Do you even know her last name?"
Tony had given in with ill grace, he knew, but it rankled to be outsmarted by a thirteen-year-old.
He'd eventually won the entire game, though, when, over Ollivander's objections, he insisted on all the protections that a member of the magical military or police force - "Aurors," Harry told him - would have.
"This is Harry Potter, who the lot of you so rudely call the Boy-Who-Lived," Tony had said when Ollivander protested. "The darkest bastard in a generation or more came after him personally - and you think you'll convince me he doesn't need military-grade equipment?"
So Harry was now wearing two leather wristbands - each one of them a holster, though only the one on his right wrist actually held a wand.
For now, Tony told himself. Redundant backups were always a good thing, so why wouldn't a backup wand be a good thing? Especially a backup few people knew you had.
The only question was, how would he find an American wandmaker?
He dropped back a few paces, letting Steve and Harry lead the way back through Diagon Alley as he pulled out his phone and called up JARVIS.
"How may I assist, sir?"
"Put out feelers," Tony said, "or run a search algorithm or something - I need a witch or wizard, preferably American, but I'll take what we can get."
"For what purpose, sir?" And only JARVIS could ask that without a hint of innuendo.
"I need a guide to the magical world," Tony replied. "Someone who knows where Harry can get a backup wand, things like that."
"Very good, sir," JARVIS replied. "I'll start immediately."
"Thanks, J." Tony shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked up to see that Steve and Harry were almost at the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts. Tony jogged a little and caught up with them just as Steve was opening the door.
"That's new," Harry muttered, gesturing to an iron cage. By the furor within the cage, Tony deduced that all of the books were The Monster Book of Monsters, and as torn pages flew everywhere, Tony wondered what kind of madman thought that was an appropriate book for thirteen-year-old students to use.
"Hogwarts?" The abrupt question came from the clerk on duty, a man who looked far too harried for a bookstore. "Third year?"
"Yes," Harry replied, and the clerk came from around the till.
"Out of the way," he snapped, and Tony blinked in surprise at the man's tone, then his eyes widened as he saw the thick, heavy gloves the man pulled on before heading toward the cage.
"Hang on," Harry said. "I've already got that one."
Profound relief washed over the clerk's face. "Oh, thank Magic. I thought we had it bad with the Invisible Book of Invisibility - ordered two hundred copies, never actually found them. But this! I'm never stocking them again!"
Only the man's distressed expression kept Tony from laughing aloud, but he did have to cough to cover it.
"Right," the clerk said, visibly calming himself. "So - third year. What are your electives?"
"Let's make this easy," Tony said. "Two sets of the Hogwarts books for every year."
"Which subjects?" the clerk asked.
"All of them," Tony replied, then frowned. "How many are there?"
When the clerk didn't answer immediately - and that made Tony frown more deeply, because shouldn't the primary supplier of textbooks know what classes the school offered? - Harry chewed his lip a moment before he spoke.
"Um - Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, DADA, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, for first and second year," Harry said. "So that's seven. Then starting third year, we choose electives from Muggle Studies, Divination, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures. That's five. Twelve total."
"Twenty-four books, assuming one book per class." Tony shrugged. "Even if there's three or four per class, shouldn't be a problem. Two complete sets," he added to the clerk. "Except that monster book in the cage. One of those is plenty."
"Ahm - of course," the clerk said. "Anything else?"
"Yes," Steve put in, and Tony quirked an eyebrow at him. "Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. Those are the ones you mentioned, right, Harry?"
"Right." Harry looked as surprised as Tony felt. "But why -?"
"And," Steve continued, cutting off Harry's question, "a couple of general history books covering the last century or so."
"Two copies of those, too?" the clerk asked.
"No, just one should be fine for those," Tony said, then looked at Harry. "What else?"
"That's it, I think," Harry said.
"Okay, then." Tony looked to the clerk. "Get those gathered, and shrink them in a way that Harry can un-shrink them without violating the - what's it called?"
"The Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery of 1875," Harry replied.
"Right, that," Tony agreed. "What's the damage?"
The clerk blinked and looked around. "Damage? Was someone hurt -?"
"I think he means how much does he owe you," Steve said, then laughed. "But with Tony, I'm never entirely sure."
"I resemble that remark," Tony said with a grin, before turning back to the clerk. "So? How much?"
"Four hundred forty-six galleons," the clerk said.
Tony handed over the money and received in return a package about the size of a paperback book.
"Just open it," the clerk said, "and the Shrinking Charm and Featherlight Charm will both wear off. You might want to have it on a table or floor when you do."
Steve pocketed the package, and they returned to the office of the Daily Prophet, where they received a similarly-sized package with similar instructions.
"All righty, then," Tony said as they emerged into Diagon Alley once again. "Who's for lunch?"
Harry realized he hadn't been to Diagon Alley often, but even so, he'd never taken time to have a meal in the Leaky Cauldron. Instead, he simply passed through it.
That changed today, though, because Tony Stark had decided to experience the magical world. He'd been mostly on-mission (Steve's term) when they shopped, but once that was done, Tony looked at whatever caught his eye.
Which was everything.
It was over an hour after they left the Prophet before they finally sat down to eat. They placed their orders - Harry chose shepherd's pie, the adults had steak and kidney pie - and Tony lounged back in his chair.
"Tell me about your classes," he said. "Which one's your favorite?"
"Anything but Potions," Harry replied immediately. "Which sucks, because I figured I'd like that one."
"Why'd you figure that?" Steve asked.
"And why don't you like it?" Tony added.
"I'm good at cooking, and making potions uses a lot of the same skills. And I don't like it because the professor hates me."
Steve frowned. "Hates you? That seems … strong."
Harry snorted. "Not strong enough. My first class with him, he calls me their new … celebrity," he was careful to emulate the pause and tone of Snape's original comment. "Then he proceeds to ask me questions about a subject I'd never studied - hadn't even heard of until the month before. Said that fame isn't everything, and then insinuated that I hadn't opened a book before I got to Hogwarts. And I did - I read a couple of them, and looked through One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, but I wasn't expecting a pop quiz on the first day of class."
Wow. Apparently, he still resented Snape for that.
And he'd apparently brought the conversation to a halt. The silence didn't have time to become oppressive, though, because Tom brought their meals.
"Did you complain about this teacher?" Steve asked once Tom had gone.
Harry gave a half-shrug. "A prefect told me that he has it in for everyone in my house - well, everyone not in his house, really. It's been that way a while, so I didn't think complaining would help, and it might make it worse."
"House?" Tony asked. "You have class in houses?"
"No, not that kind of house," Harry replied. He took a bite of shepherd's pie to give him a minute to consider how to explain it. He swallowed and said, "When we get to Hogwarts, we're sorted into houses. The Sorting Hat-" Tony snorted, Steve looked baffled, and Harry had to bite back a smile "-puts us into a house based on our personalities, and that's where we live for the rest of our schooling."
"Based on personality," Tony repeated. "Like what?"
Harry took another bite before saying, "Like - Gryffindor, my house, is for the courageous. Ravenclaw is for the intellectuals. Slytherin is for the ambitious and cunning, and Hufflepuff is for the loyal and hard-working."
"But most people have more than one of those traits," Steve said. "Or at least, there's nothing contradictory about them. I mean, you can be cunning and courageous, or intellectual and loyal."
"I think it looks for whichever's most dominant." Harry shrugged. "But then, it wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I argued it out of it."
"What's wrong with ambition and cunning?" Tony asked.
"Nothing," Harry said. "It's just - well, when Hagrid brought me to Diagon Alley, he said there hadn't been a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. And the wizard who killed my parents was in Slytherin. And…" he ducked his head. "And I met a boy when I was getting my robes - he was a bit of an arse, still is, and he was sure he was going to be in Slytherin, and I didn't want to be in the same house he was."
"It's also more cunning not to be put in a house that's known for cunning," Steve said, and Harry joined in Tony's chuckle.
"Do you get re-sorted at any point?" Tony asked. "Because my personality wasn't the same at fifteen as it was at eleven. Yours probably won't be, either."
Harry frowned. "I - don't think so? I've never heard of it, but I've only been there two years."
"Something to ask about," Tony said, and took another bite. "So - what are your other teachers like?"
"Professor McGonagall's great - she teaches Transfiguration." At Steve's frown, he added, "Turning one thing into another - like a matchstick into a needle."
Tony shook his head. "I'll have to see that to believe it. What else do you like?"
"Quidditch," Harry replied immediately. "It's a sport - you play it on brooms."
"Brooms?" Steve gave him a funny look. "Isn't that … cliché?"
Harry shrugged. "Maybe."
Tony snorted and coughed on his swallow of ale. When he'd recovered, he said, "But you love Quidditch?"
"Right," Harry said, "flying is great - except for long distances. Then … well…"
"Chafing, I'd guess," Steve said. "Like on a bicycle?"
"Exactly!" Harry said. "Magic can make it better, but it's still not, well, pleasant."
Tony snorted again. "Imagine not. So what's Quidditch like?"
"It's brilliant," Harry said, and launched into an explanation of the rules and a description of some of his games that lasted through lunch.
By the time they got back to Stark Docklands Tower, Tony wasn't sure how to feel.
Clearly, Harry loved magic and the magical world - though Tony wondered how much of that love was based in being away from his Uncle Vernon - and that love seemed to color all of his experiences there. That wouldn't be a bad thing, necessarily, except that some of those experiences made Tony want to call Child Protective Services, the Board of Education, or both.
Or whatever the magical equivalents were. Assuming the magical world had equivalents, which Tony wasn't sure he could assume, based on Harry's stories - stories of:
A corridor that students were instructed to avoid unless they wished a very painful death. Tony snorted at that - a warning like that would draw kids to it like flies to honey.
A bully of a potions teacher who barely taught and obviously favored some students over others.
A history teacher - a ghost, which was cool and unsettling at the same time - who droned on in a monotone about the goblin rebellion du jour.
An astronomy class that was held at midnight on a school night.
A forest just off the school grounds that was forbidden to students, except when they were ordered to serve detention there at eleven o'clock at night - again on a school night - when there was a known dangerous creature killing unicorns - ever more cool than a ghost, even if Tony would never meet one. Steve might, though - in it. That said students were split up and unaccompanied by a responsible adult just made Tony want to blast something.
A groundskeeper hatching a baby dragon - and, really, if any more creatures from Dungeons & Dragons turned out to be real, Tony might have a breakdown - in a wooden hut. On school grounds. Without knowledge, let alone permission, of the school administration. Tony was proud of Harry for helping his friend, Hagrid, not get punished for that, but it was still a mark against Hogwarts' safety.
A teacher who ignored a student's warning about a possible dangerous situation and compounded that reaction by taking away house points. Tony had to add the house point system in general to his tally of issues, but really, it was a minor annoyance compared to the biggest issue.
The biggest issue was a teacher possessed by the shade of the man who'd killed James and Lily Potter - who had somehow gotten into the school and remained there without detection, until Harry and two of his friends confronted him - after getting past what might have been meant as deadly traps, but were really only somewhat more dangerous than a Tough Mudder (assuming the poison vials didn't really contain deadly poison; Tony wasn't sure whether that was a safe assumption). That Harry had - apparently unintentionally - killed that professor in self-defense made Tony more than slightly homicidal.
And that was just Harry's first year.
Tony wasn't sure he wanted to hear about second year, but he had to, and preferably before he met with Professor McGonagall.
But that was an issue for later, Tony reminded himself as the driver pulled into the garage under Stark Docklands Tower. Now, he needed to get Harry and Steve inside, organize some kind of dinner - delivery again, probably. He'd have to have someone stock the kitchen - and find someone who could actually cook the groceries they bought.
He hadn't realized that having a child to care for came with quite so much work. He could only be grateful that most of the things he was considering took more effort to set up than to maintain.
He hoped.
Tony got out of the car, barely registering when the other two did the same, still thinking about everything that needed to be done, and moved to the trunk so he could retrieve the results of today's shopping expedition.
A woof followed by an oof and a, "Hey, fella," from Steve drew his attention, and Tony looked up to see a large black dog wiggling and wagging happily as Steve scratched its ears.
Then it left Steve and went to Harry, who looked like he was about to dive back into the car. The dog sat, making eager noises while its tail swept back and forth across the garage floor at blurring speed.
"Are we getting a pet now, too?" Tony asked, and Steve turned to glance at him, careful to keep one eye on Harry and the dog.
"I ran into him this morning when I went for my run," Steve said. Then he frowned. "And I think he's the dog I saw at Harry's uncle's place."
The dog yipped, obviously trying to coax Harry to pet it.
"You don't have to, Harry," Tony said - and would've sworn the dog suddenly looked dejected.
"No, it's okay." Harry reached out a tentative hand to scratch the dog's nearest ear. "I think -" he took a shuddery breath. "I seem to remember a big black dog from when I was very little. Not at the Dursleys', but … maybe my parents had a dog?" He frowned. "I - Taffy? Taddy? No - Paddy. I think that was its name."
Tony gave an exaggerated sigh. Then, "You want to keep him, don't you?"
"I - yes," Harry said without looking away from the dog. "But you're doing so much for me already, I-"
"Stop," Tony said gently. "Look at me."
Harry turned, slowly, not stopping his rhythmic scratching of the dog's ears.
"I'm the first to admit, I'm not a pet person," Tony said, then offered the best grin that he could. "There's a reason I surround myself with AIs, after all."
Harry chuckled - weakly, but he chuckled.
Encouraged, Tony continued, "But that doesn't mean that you're just like me. Maybe you are a pet person - and now's the time to find out."
"Really?" Harry asked.
"Really," Tony assured him. "So here's the deal. We'll adopt him, but you're responsible for taking care of him. He's got the run of the roof, but you'll need to take him for a walk once a day while you're here. You'll feed him and clean up after him. If you don't, then he goes to a no-kill shelter, no questions and no protests. Deal?"
Harry appeared to think that over. "I want to try to find someone to adopt him before he goes to a shelter."
"Fair enough." In all honesty, Tony had expected more of a protest. Then Harry's expression changed to one of … despair?
"What happens when I go back to school?" Harry asked. "I won't be here to take care of him!"
"We'll find someone to help out," Tony replied.
"I can walk him," Steve offered. "We'll figure out the rest when we need to."
"First, he needs a bath," Tony said. "JARVIS, find someone to come up and give him one - an employee, mobile groomer, whatever. If it's one of ours, give them an extra day's pay as bonus."
"Yes, sir," JARVIS replied.
"C'mon, then." Tony led the way to the elevator. "Here, boy."
The dog whuffed, its tail still wagging back and forth across the garage floor, but didn't move.
"C'mon," Harry tried as he started for the elevator. The dog - Paddy, unless Harry decided otherwise - barked and ran for him, making Tony tense and wish he had his armor on.
But Paddy just fell into step with Harry and moments later, three humans and a dog were on their way to the roof.
They let Paddy out on the roof, and Harry told the dog he'd be right back. Tony was surprised that Paddy sat down, its head cocked and ears forward, and simply watched as the elevator doors closed again.
Minutes later, he followed Harry and Steve off the elevator and into the conference room. Steve put the shrunken bunch of schoolbooks at one end of the table, and Tony took the shrunken back issues of the Daily Prophet to the other. Harry followed him, touched the stack with the tip of his wand, and said, "Unpack."
The stack expanded to cover almost the entire table in stacks almost three feet high, and Tony stared at it.
"Maybe we went overboard," Steve said.
"Maybe a little." Harry sounded very amused, and for a moment, Tony considered having him do the initial sort on which were the most important issues to read.
He killed that thought dead with a reminder that the story of his parents' deaths was in the stack. He or Steve would sort through the first year's issues, and then Harry could help sort the remaining ones.
It was still going to be a lot of concentrated work, and Tony suppressed a sigh as Harry started scanning the topmost page of each stack.
"Books," Tony reminded him, and Harry repeated the tap and the incantation on the pile of books at Steve's end of the table.
"Much more manageable," Steve said.
"Right," Tony said. "Harry - one set's for you, so you can set them up in your room. Decide where you want them and let JARVIS know. We'll have shelves put up by tomorrow."
"Thanks," Harry said, and while many might think the single word inadequate, Tony heard the sincerity in it. Then he cleared his throat. "Do you have whatever you wanted me to send Hermione? I thought I'd see if Hedwig's back."
"It should be upstairs," Tony said. "We'll stop there and get it, then head to the roof, see if Professor McGone Girl responded, too."
"I'll get started here," Steve said.
"JARVIS, see if you can scan the newspapers," Tony said. "It'll be a lot easier to search for anything we need in the future if they're scanned."
"Of course, sir," JARVIS responded. "With the captain's assistance, that shouldn't be difficult."
"Just tell me what to do, JARVIS," Steve said.
As JARVIS began to explain what he wanted, Tony jerked his head back toward the elevator and Harry joined him. A couple of minutes and one quick stop later, Tony followed his son onto the roof, a pair of boxes clutched in one hand.
The dog loped up to them but stopped short of jumping on either one of them, choosing instead to sit and stare longingly at Harry.
"Hey, boy." Harry scratched its ear in passing. "Let me talk to Hedwig, and then I'll see if I can find a ball."
"J?" Tony asked.
"A case of tennis balls is included amongst the items I ordered once you approved the dog as a pet," JARVIS replied. "I expect the delivery within the hour."
"And the bath?" Tony prompted.
"A cashier in the cafeteria offered to bathe the dog and give it a basic exam," JARVIS said. "She is in her final year of veterinary studies."
"But she works in a cafeteria?" Harry asked.
"Stark Industries is a leader in offering flexible scheduling and tuition reimbursement for all programs of study," JARVIS replied. "Not simply those that will increase their value to the company."
Harry turned wide eyes to Tony. "But - why? Why would you pay for people to train to leave you?"
"If they're good employees, I'd rather have them here and happy as long as I can," Tony said. "If they're bad, then I can get rid of them sooner."
Harry's expression showed his bafflement. "I guess that's something else the tutor will explain?"
Tony laughed. "If they don't, I will. Is Hedwig around?"
A hoot sounded from above them, and Tony looked up to see Hedwig banking toward the gazebo.
He urged Harry forward with his free hand, and a minute later Harry met the owl at the gazebo railing and was removing a letter from her leg.
"You'd think," Tony mused, "that magic would come up with a more efficient mail delivery system."
Hedwig hooted indignantly.
"No offense," Tony said to her, "but I can send a message around the world in seconds. Minutes, if the connection is bad. I'd think that brilliant owls like you would be reserved for … I don't know - messages from the Queen or something. Important, prestigious things, instead of everyday stuff."
That seemed to mollify Hedwig a little, because she set to preening Harry's hair while he bent over the letter to read it.
"She says that she'll be here at ten on Saturday," Harry said. "And so will Madam Pomfrey."
Tony's brows slammed together "Who?"
"Madam Pomfrey," Harry repeated. "She's - well, the school nurse is the best equivalent. I'd asked for her to come with Professor McGonagall so she could heal me. Then Tom…" Harry shrugged, and Tony couldn't help being glad for the Leaky Cauldron barman if it meant his son was free to move as he wanted.
"Makes sense," Tony said. "And I'm not mad at you for inviting her - this is your place, too. Just let me know ahead of time, okay?"
Harry's expression turned mischievous. "I did. They won't be here until Saturday."
As quickly as it came, that mischievous expression faded into one of uncertainty, even apprehension.
Tony forced down another wave of anger at the Dursleys so he could laugh genuinely. "Fair point. How about when you issue the invite, next time?"
"Okay." Harry was trying not to look relieved, and Tony judged it a passing grade, if barely. He swallowed and looked up at Tony. "What did you want me to send Hermione?"
"Let me check," Tony said, and hid a grin at his son's astonished expression. "They're alike," he added as he tore open one of the boxes.
Harry drifted closer to look over his shoulder as he revealed the latest StarkPhone - the one that wouldn't be released until the end of September. Tony powered it on and checked the contacts.
"Yours." He offered it to Harry, who took it with a bewildered expression, and Tony held back an angry growl. "Never seen a smart phone before?"
"Not up close," Harry said. "Uncle Vernon has one for work, and Aunt Petunia had a simpler phone to take with her for emergencies."
"It's reasonably intuitive," Tony said. "Or so I've been told. Touch the icon labeled Contacts."
Harry did so, and Tony smiled as his son's eyes widened. "TJ - Tony and JARVIS?"
"Got it in one," Tony said. "I'll answer if I can, but if not, JARVIS will."
"And Hermione? How'd you get her number?" Harry asked.
"Didn't," Tony replied. "Because I'm giving her a new one." He picked up the second box and handed it over. "Your number's already programmed into it."
"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed.
Then Tony frowned as a thought occurred to him. "She's the only one of your friends you've mentioned. Should I get a phone for anyone else?"
Harry's expression turned contemplative for a moment, then he shook his head. "I don't think so. My other friend, Ron - he's magical-born and raised, and he doesn't know how to use one, really. He called me, earlier in the summer, but-" Harry broke off and chuckled softly.
"What?" Tony asked.
"It wasn't funny at the time," Harry said, "but he kept yelling through the phone, even though I'd told him just to talk normally. He should've known better, because his father's in charge of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Huh."
"What?" Tony asked again, as Harry's expression had shifted once again.
"I never thought to wonder where Ron got a phone to call me," Harry said. "The Weasley family is all magical."
"And magical people don't know about telephones?" Tony asked.
"Most of them don't have a lot to do with Muggles - non-magical people - at all."
The most disturbing thing about that statement, Tony thought, was that Harry didn't seem bothered by it at all. Before he could pursue that line of thought further, Harry said, "I can send my letter, right?"
"Oh - sure," Tony said. "As long as Hedwig can carry the box, too?"
Hedwig whacked his arm with her wing.
"I'll take that as a yes." Tony grinned at the bird who shook her feathers before turning to Harry and sticking out her leg.
"One minute, Hedwig," Harry said. "I need to add a P.S. to my note to Hermione."
Hedwig returned her foot to the ground and if she'd been human, Tony would've sworn that she huffed in irritation.
Tony didn't like to think of himself as a snoop - S.H.I.E.L.D. databases notwithstanding - but he couldn't help looking over Harry's shoulder as he added, P.S. - My number's in the contacts of the phone. I'm sure you know how to use it, or can figure out how. Looking forward to talking with you!
Once Hedwig was airborne, her cargo securely fastened to her leg, somehow - "Magic," Harry said with a grin when Tony asked - Tony reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew the letter James and Lily Potter had written to their son.
"Here. Read it whenever you want, but you should have it." He held out the envelope. Harry took it with a shuddery breath, and Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. "I figure you don't want me breathing down you neck while you read it, so come find me if you want to talk or anything. Or Steve - he's probably a better listener than I am. JARVIS can tell you where we are. Okay?"
Harry nodded wordlessly, and Tony patted his back awkwardly before heading back to the elevator. As he turned to step into it, he saw the black dog sitting beside Harry and leaning into Harry's leg as Harry opened the envelope. Tony could only hope the dog could offer more comfort than he knew how to.