Chapter 18

"Freak," Harry whispered, holding tighter to himself and tears starting to flow down his face. "That's what they called me: Freak."

He wiped his face, then turned his head away from his father and Bruce, staring at the ceiling as he tried to prevent further tears from falling.

"Aunt Petunia hated my mum," Harry continued. "She was jealous because her little sister was more intelligent, more beautiful, and married a richer man. And then her hated sister went and got herself killed and she was saddled with her spawn. They never beat me, although my cousin did enough of that for them. Harry Hunting was his favorite game. I was never welcome in their home- not part of the family. I- I was their servant, their slave. I cooked, I cleaned- and if it wasn't up to their standards then I was locked in my cupboard without food."

"Cupboard?" His father exclaimed, startling Harry. Tony sent the boy an apologetic look but continued. "What do you mean cupboard?"

"Until I was 11, my bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs," Harry admitted. "The first time I felt like I was home was at school. I couldn't understand why the others were excited to go home for Christmas or other holidays. Now I do. If I could have grown up here, with you- " Harry stopped, choking up. After taking a breath, he continued. "That's why I don't care about having a studio, or anything else. I just enjoy spending time with you."

His father reached out and squeezed his gloved hands.

"I love you- you're not a freak!" Tony said, angrily. "They are the worst human beings- no child deserves what you were put through."

Harry hesitated. Should he tell them now? He had wanted to wait, but maybe now was the best time after all. He looked into his father's eyes and saw concern and love there. He could do this.

"But maybe they were right and I am a freak," Harry said. "There are some things you don't know about me, some lies that I've told, because I was afraid you would hate me if I told you."

"Harry, nothing you could say could make me hate you, that I know," Tony reassured him.

"You say that, but you don't know what it is!" Harry cried. "I remember distinctly the Dursley's behavior changing for the worst when I began to show signs- show signs of- of- "

"It's ok, Harry, I know," Tony informed his son gently.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. He knew?! How did he know about magic?

"Harry, there's nothing wrong with being gay," Tony said warmly, squeezing the boy's hand. "No matter what those useless relatives told you."

Oh Merlin, that wasn't what Harry meant to get off his chest! But at the same time it was good to know his dad was fine with it and not bigoted.

"So, you're OK with that?" Harry asked. "Being gay?"

"l'd be a hypocrite not to be, "Tony admitted, giving Harry a sheepish smile. "I've been openly bisexual since the early 90's."

"And I demi-sexual," Bruce said, and Harry turned to see the man smiling at both father and son. "That means that I only feel attraction once I've formed an emotional connection. So, we understand what it's like to not be the hetero norm, and we are both here to support you."

"Thank you," Harry sniffed, finally allowing some more tears to fall. He never even thought a year ago that there would be adults in his life who would make him feel supported- loved.

But now he has to tell him his other secret. He hoped they would be as understanding.

"There's something else I have to-" Harry started, but then stopped when he felt a burning in his pocket, where his pocket mirror was.

Draco!

Draco must have set off the emergency charm on their two-way pocket mirror!

"Give me a minute- I'll be right back," Harry said, as he stood quickly, pulling his hand from his father's so quickly, his glove was pulled off. He couldn't worry about that now, not when Draco could be in danger! He ran to his room and opened the mirror.

HP&MCU&HP

Tony and Bruce sat stunned. It seemed so sudden, Harry bolting out of there. It had been going so well.

"Don't be discouraged, Tony," Bruce tried to reassure the other man. "You did great when speaking with him. He opened up, and now he may just need some time for himself."

Tony stared at the glove in his hand- with both anger and concern marring his face.

"What is it?" Bruce asked.

"Did you see his hand, Bruce?" Tony asked in return. Bruce shook his head. "There were scars on his hand. Scars in the shape of words, of letters. I couldn't read it, it was so fast, but I saw it! JARVIS, do you know what is written on Harry's hand?"

"Yes, Sir," the A. I. answered. "The scar tissue is in the shape of a sentence'. 'I must not tell lies!'"

AN: That's it for now! I know these chapters have been short, but that's the only way I can get them out weekly. I hope y'all understand. See you next time!

Love, Insie

PS- for all y'all who've been, let's say, perplexed about my having Harry pretend to be a 'dancer', my reasoning behind that will be explained in chapter after next. fyi