It took JARVIS shutting off the music and the lights to pull Tony from the design schematic he'd been working on. His initial flash of annoyance passed quickly, and he said, "I hope you saved my work."

"Of course, Sir," JARVIS replied, his normally expressionless tone somehow conveying his offense at the implication he might not have done so. "You have not eaten since breakfast, and that was at 8:45 this morning. It is now half past seven in the evening."

"Oh." Tony stood, wincing as his muscles protested the sudden change in position, and stumbled around his workshop a bit, letting his body recover from staying in the same position far longer than anyone would consider reasonable. "The others?"

"Young Harry is doing homework. Captain Rogers and Mr. Black are watching Star Wars: A New Hope."

"Nope, uhn-uh, not possible," Tony declared, stretching and twisting his back to ease the tension that had settled between his shoulder blades. "It's Star Wars, period. Tell me you put on the original, not the one somebody couldn't keep his hands off of?"

"Of course, Sir," JARVIS repeated, this time with a note of fond exasperation in his tone. "I am fully aware of your preferences on the matter."

"I should hope so," Tony muttered. Then the implications of the time hit him. "Dinner. We should do something about dinner."

"Indeed. Given the hour, and your lack of - shall we say - finesse in the kitchen, I suggest ordering in."

"We've done pizza already," Tony said as he started toward the elevator. "How about Chinese?"

"I shall order an assortment," JARVIS assured him.

"Thanks, J."

Minutes later, he strode out of the elevator. Harry was sitting at the dining table, a bunch of books and papers scattered around him, with a quill in his hand.

Tony looked over Harry's shoulder at what he was writing - his handwriting's worse than mine, but probably better than if I tried to use a quill - frowning at the title at the top of the page: Abraxan Hair and Asian Dragon Hair: A Comparison.

"I guess saying they're from different animals - an abraxan's an animal, right? - is going for the low-hanging fruit?" he said.

Harry looked up and grinned. "I should write that and turn it in, just to see Snape's reaction." Then his expression fell. "It wouldn't be worth the lost points and the detention, though."

"No sense of humor?" Tony asked, and got a resounding, "Not at all," in return. "I always hated teachers like that. It's part of why I never got a doctorate."

"You were going to be a doctor?" Harry asked, and it took Tony a couple of seconds to figure out what he meant.

"Not that kind of doctor," he said. "American universities offer three types of degrees - bachelor's, master's, and doctorate. You could be a doctor of about anything - history, biology, whatever - but not be a medical doctor."

"Oh." Harry appeared to file that away for future use. "Weird."

"Says the kid who claims he can turn buttons into beetles," Tony shot back. "Dinner's on the way, so find a good place to stop for a bit."

"'Kay." Harry turned back to his homework and Tony continued into the living room, where the movie had ended and Steve and Sirius sat talking about it.

Tony dropped into a chair near them, unwilling to interrupt discussion of a specific point. Then again, Steve's inherent courtesy wouldn't let him leave Tony out of the conversation for long.

Sure enough, it was barely two minutes before Steve turned to Tony. "I'm sure you've seen this movie several times. What's your favorite part?"

"Threepio," Tony replied immediately. "He and Artoo were a big part of the inspiration for JARVIS."

"I thought-" Steve began, but broke off, apparently unsure what to say next.

"Jarvis was, too," Tony said, then looked at Sirius, whose confused expression almost veered into caricature. "Edwin Jarvis, he was Dad's butler, though that doesn't come anywhere close to describing everything he was and did. I guess the magical world doesn't have anything similar?"

Sirius thought for a moment. "The closest we get to an all-around assistant like JARVIS would be house-elves. They're magical beings who have powerful wandless magic." He winced. "A lot of Muggleborns think they're slaves."

"Are they?" Steve asked without censure.

"…maybe?" Sirius blew out a breath. "I mean, my family had one, but he was just … there, you know? Since I was a baby." He shook his head. "For all that I grew up in the magical world, there's a lot about it I don't know."

"Just like there's a lot about our world we don't know," Tony said. "I mean, who has time to learn everything about six thousand years of history?"

"Six thousand?" Steve asked.

"Earliest written records date to about 4000 BCE," Tony said. "But even if you want to limit it to the thousand years before Christ, that's still three thousand years. What was going on in, say, the Indian subcontinent three thousand years ago? How about Peru?"

"If they are slaves," Steve said, "is there anything you can do about it?"

Sirius snorted. "Right now?"

"We can owl order some books and you can read up on it." The suggestion came from Harry, who had joined them without Tony realizing it. "I met a house-elf last year."

"Oh?" Tony straightened a little, suddenly interested. "Tell us about it - you didn't grow up in the magical world, so you have a little bit of an outsider's perspective."

"Um - okay." Harry came around and sat on the floor by the coffee table. Tony wondered if the Dursleys had made him sit on the floor, or if it was just a preference. "The one I met is called Dobby, and he belonged to Lucius Malfoy."

"That ba-" Sirius stopped himself when Harry looked up at him, curiously. "He's married to my cousin Narcissa," Sirius said instead. "The family loved him, of course. I can't stand him."

"I don't care for his son, either," Harry said. "Draco's a bully."

"But you were telling us about this house-elf - Dobby, right?" Steve said, and Tony was glad for the redirection. There was so much to learn about Harry's world, and Tony wanted to learn it all. For right now, though, he really needed to focus on Harry and his needs.

Harry took a breath. "Dobby tried to save my life - or at least that's what he thought he was doing. He came to my bedroom and tried to convince me not to go back to Hogwarts, but he couldn't explain why. He'd been stopping mail coming to me, so I'd think my friends had abandoned me and I wouldn't want to go back." Harry sounded annoyed by that, and Tony couldn't blame him. "I finally figured out that his master was going to do something bad at or to Hogwarts. But I was determined to go, so he did magic in the house - made a cake fall on Mrs. Mason's head- "

Sirius interrupted with a hearty laugh. "I don't know who Mrs. Mason is, but great prank!"

Harry didn't appear amused. "And then the owl came from the Improper Use of Magic Office, telling me they'd detected Hover Charm, and further spellwork on my part could lead to expulsion."

"Wait, what?" Tony sat forward. "They detected a charm and assumed it was you? They didn't investigate?"

Harry shook his head. "No. And what's worse-" he broke off suddenly to study his shoes.

"What, Harry?" Steve asked gently, and once again, Tony was grateful for Steve's compassion. Tony admitted he had very little of it, and it was reserved for people who hurt through no fault of their own. Which, of course, included Harry, but Tony's own feelings about Harry were still enough of a mess that he wasn't sure his compassion would come out untainted by anger - anger that Harry might misconstrue as being with him instead of about him.

Harry gave a one-shoulder shrug without looking up. "Uncle Vernon read that letter … I hadn't told him I couldn't use magic outside school. It was the only thing…"

"Protecting you," Tony finished. "JARVIS, start a file. Sometime after we get Harry settled, remind me to buy whatever company Vernon Dursley works for and get his ass fired. Label it Phase One of Project Ruin Vernon Dursley."

"Noted, Sir," JARVIS replied.

"Why wait?" Sirius snarled.

"Because he just lost his wife," Tony said. "And, worse, his son just lost his mother. I don't give a flying damn for Vernon Dursley, but his son … However much of a brat, prat, berk, bully, whatever he is, if he loved his mother at all, I know what he's going through. I know how I would've felt if Dad had lost everything right after that, and I don't want to put the kid through that if we don't have to."

Sirius looked like he desperately wanted to argue that point, so Tony flashed him a grin. "Besides - revenge is a dish best served cold - and with sufficient time to plan."

Sirius stared at him for a moment, then laughed. "I really like you."

"I don't swing that way, Black," Tony shot back, grinning to take any insult out of the words, even as Steve leaned toward Harry and stage-whispered, "Does that scare you like it does me?"

Harry giggled - positively giggled, and Tony was glad to hear it. From what he'd seen so far, Harry hadn't had much to giggle about in his life. Before the conversation could pick up again, the elevator dinged softly.

"Dinner has arrived, Sir," JARVIS said.

Tony rose to go get the bags full of white cartons, calling over his shoulder, "Somebody get some plates, forks and spoons to serve with."

Harry hurried to do that while Tony opened carton after carton. Cashew chicken, beef and broccoli, Kung Pao chicken, Mongolian beef, sweet and sour pork, shrimp in black bean sauce, along with cartons of steamed rice, chicken chop suey and pork fried rice, soon loaded the coffee table. Piles of chopsticks and packets of soy sauce completed the buffet. He put the packet of fortune cookies aside for later.

"What is all that?" Harry asked, wide-eyed, as he returned to the living room with a stack of plates piled with silverware.

"Chinese food," Tony replied. "Or, well, a commercialized and Anglicized version of Chinese food. Have you had it before?"

Harry shook his head and passed a plate to each of them before sitting on the floor again. "Uncle Vernon didn't like a lot of foreign food."

"Well," Tony smirked, "we'll just have to introduce you to as many different types as we can."

"That-" Harry looked down. When he spoke again, it was with a whisper, "What if I don't like it all?"

Tony shrugged as he scooped some rice onto his plate. "Then you don't. It's not required."

"But - you're spending good money on it," Harry replied.

"Look," Tony piled beef and broccoli onto his plate and sat back, "I'm not advocating waste. I'm saying try a bite or two of everything, then have a real portion of your favorites. Whatever's left over, we'll have tomorrow night, Sunday night for sure if things run later than we expect tomorrow. If nothing you like is left, then you have breakfast for dinner. Deal?"

"Deal," Harry said, looking at least relieved if not happy, and Tony's resolve not to hurt the Dursley child any more than necessary was sorely tested.

"What about after Sunday?" Steve asked. "I'm pretty sure living on takeaway isn't a good thing."

"It's worked for me for years," Tony replied, taking a big bite to emphasize his point.

"I can cook," Harry offered. "I had to, and I learned how to make a lot of things."

"You go to a boarding school," Steve pointed out.

"And I don't want you to have to cook here," Tony added. "If you want to cook a meal because you like doing it, fine, but it's not required."

"If I may, Sir." As always, JARVIS' interruption was polite. "There are personal chefs who will cook for you."

"That's an idea," Tony mused. "See if anyone who works for SI is interested in the position, will you? And figure out what the salary should be - high side of average for the industry."

"Of course, Sir."

And just like that, Tony mused, he'd created one more job - because whoever got promoted to personal chef would have to be replaced within SI - and the news media would never know. He chuckled to himself at the thought before returning to his beef and broccoli.

They ate quietly for a few minutes, then Tony looked up at Harry. "You know we're meeting with your professor tomorrow morning, and after that, we'll be making some big decisions. Before that happens, though, I need to know something. What do you want, going forward? Don't think about it, just give me your first answer, whatever it is."

It took a moment, but Harry replied, "I want to go back to Hogwarts."

"Why?" Tony asked. "What does Hogwarts offer you?"

"Magic," Harry replied, more quickly this time.

Sirius shook his head. "Oh, pup. Hogwarts isn't the only magical school in the world. Besides Beauxbatons and Durmstrang on the Continent, America has at least two - Ilvermorny and Salem Witches' Academy."

"Witches' Academy?" Tony repeated. "That sounds sexist to me - tell me there's a wizards-only school, too?"

Sirius shrugged. "Probably. I only know about those two because Lily got invitations to attend both of them for her NEWT studies."

"NEWT?" Steve repeated. "As in eye of newt and toe of frog?"

"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests," Sirius said. "You have to pass them - sometimes with top marks - to get into some professions."

As fascinating as that was, Tony refocused on Harry. "What else does Hogwarts have?"

"Quidditch," Harry replied.

"You play?" Sirius asked, his eyes brighter at the thought.

"Seeker," Harry replied. "Youngest in a century."

Sirius grinned at him. "Your da- James played chaser."

"It's okay if you call James his dad," Tony put in. "I'm still a relative stranger. I get it."

Both Sirius and Harry looked a little relieved at that, and Tony shoved his hurt at their expressions down. What he'd said was just the truth, and the truth hurt, as the saying went.

"Do American schools have Quidditch?" Steve asked, smoothing over the moment before it could turn awkward.

"…Maybe?" Sirius responded. "I know they play Quodpot, which is kind of a bastard stepchild of Quidditch. But even if they don't play it professionally, I'm sure there are amateur leagues."

"If there aren't, I'll fund one," Tony said. "What else, Harry?"

"…My friends."

And there was the heart of the matter. The words came out hesitantly, barely audible, and Harry was looking at his feet again. Tony was sure his expression mirrored Sirius and Steve's identical heartbroken expressions.

He cleared his throat. "Anyone in particular?"

"Hermione," Harry answered firmly. "And Ron - but he has a big family, you saw in the Prophet. Hermione's an only child, like me, and … well, she's so smart that a lot of kids would pretend to be her friend just to get her help on homework."

"But not you?" Steve asked.

Harry grinned. "I never said I didn't ask for help, sometimes. But no, I'm her friend because she's funny and brave and she got over the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing really quickly."

All four of them shared a grimace at the epithet before Tony came back to the subject at hand.

"With the understanding that you'll make new friends wherever you go," he said, "and that you can keep in touch with these two - Ron and Herme-whatever-"

"Hermione," Harry said.

"Right, her," Tony grinned at his son. "What else?"

Harry frowned, obviously concentrating, then shook his head. "Hedwig, my wand, my broom, the photo album Hagrid gave me for Christmas first year. That's all I really need."

Tony studied his son for a long moment, but didn't sense anything except sincerity.

"Okay," he said. "That's our goal. I'll say right now that after what you told me about your first year, I'm not exactly thrilled with Hogwarts in general. I know," he added, holding up a hand to forestall any protest, "it's the first place you found out about magic, and it's where your friends are. But you have to admit, it hasn't been exactly safe."

Harry opened his mouth, maybe to protest anyway, but shut it and then shrugged. "I can't argue that."

"Good." Tony grinned at him. "Then we're prepared to beard the lioness in her den. Well, my den, but you get the point."

"One more thing," Steve said, and Tony sat back, waving a hand for him to continue. To his surprise, Steve focused on Sirius. "I don't think you should be here tomorrow."

"What?!" The question came from Sirius and Harry, and it was only Tony's respect for Steve's tactical abilities that kept him from echoing it.

"As much as I'm not looking forward to facing two fully-capable witches without magical backup," Steve said, "I think the risk of them seeing you is too great."

Tony mentally kicked himself for forgetting that their guest was a wanted man in the magical world. Having two witches around who didn't know the man never had a trial wasn't the best of ideas.

"I'd planned to be Padfoot," Sirius replied, and Tony nodded. That should solve the problem nicely.

"I'm not sure that's enough," Steve said. "When I worked with wizards during the war-"

"Voldemort's blood war?" Sirius asked.

Steve shook his head. "The Second World War - and the Grindelwald War. The wizards I worked with then had all kinds of detection spells. All it would take is one bad roll of the dice, and you'd be back in prison or worse."

Sirius' lips thinned, but after a moment he nodded. "I wish I didn't, but I see your point. I'll make myself scarce."

Harry's expression was as disappointed as Tony ever wanted to see it, but rather than reassure his son, his attention was focused on Steve. "You're treating this like a hostile encounter."

Steve blew out a breath. "It has the potential to become one. Some of the stories they told …. They're not above wiping all of our memories, if they think it's necessary, whatever that means."

"But Tony has the right to know about magic," Harry protested. "Hermione's parents do."

"And where does that leave me?" Steve asked. "Most of the people I worked with are probably dead, so I don't have anyone to vouch for me."

"Maybe not," Sirius said. "Magical people tend to live longer than non-magical people."

"Really?" Steve actually sounded surprised, and an irrational wave of … relief? Yeah, relief … swept through Tony. There was something about the magical world Steve Rogers didn't know. He was floundering almost as much as Tony was. Tony felt guilty for being comforted by that thought, but owned it regardless.

Steve shook off his surprised and went on, "Which is another reason I don't want you here. When you come back, if they have wiped our memories, you can help us get them back."

"I don't have a wand," Sirius said.

"We'll get you one," Tony promised. "Not sure how, yet, but we will."

"How will you know if they've … done anything?" Sirius asked.

"JARVIS will be monitoring and recording the entire meeting," Tony said. "He'll real-time archive it in several different locations. From what Harry's said, they won't have any idea what's possible with technology."

Sirius snorted. "They sure won't. I don't, and I've been with you the last couple of days."

"To be fair," Tony said, "you spent the prior twelve years in prison. A few gaps in your knowledge are to be expected."

He didn't realize the words might be insensitive, even cruel, until they'd left his mouth. Fortunately, Sirius shrugged them off.

"So who's coming tomorrow?" he asked.

"Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey," Harry replied immediately. "At least, those are the two I invited."

"Anyone else is not welcome, then," Tony declared. "I won't let you be bullied in your own home, or anywhere else, if I can help it."

"They wouldn't," Harry protested.

Tony shrugged. "I'll take your word for it. But bringing along someone who wasn't invited without a fantastically good reason is a form of bullying, too."

Harry looked somewhat stunned, and Tony figured he'd never thought about things like that.

Harry appeared to shake himself out of his surprise and said, "Take Hedwig with you. I'll call her when we're done, so you'll know it's safe to come back."

"Just don't go too far," Tony warned, and wondered when he'd started sounding like a father, and to a man who looked to be only a little younger than he was.

"Jubilee Park's not far," Steve said. "I can tell you how to get there tomorrow morning."

"Great," Tony declared. "Now that's settled, who's up for a game of Monopoly?"

"That's still around?" Steve asked. "I played it sometimes when it first came out."

"It's still around," Tony said. "We just don't play it like everyone else does. A board, J?"

Almost instantly, a holographic depiction of the basic Monopoly board appeared on the coffee table, completely overlaying their dinner.

"So every takeout box is a hotel?" Steve asked dryly.

"Just the mains," Tony quipped. "The rice boxes are houses. C'mon, help me clear this stuff away so we can play."