AN-This chapter has been an absolute nightmare to write. I know there's not much action, but I promise this was necessary.

Tons of thanks go out to njchrispatrick, who helped push me into finishing this, listening to my whining, and even contributing a few paragraphs to help me figure out where this was going. If you haven't read his stuff, check it out

Chapter Three

Harry stared out the window of Number Four Privet Drive, shuffling the letters in his hands over and over again. Some were cards, birthday and Christmas, while others were sheet after sheet of paper.

Harry had read them all, over and over again, until the pages were creased and the words were embedded in his memory.

Tony was the only person, outside of Hogwarts, that had ever seemed to care about him. Tony had given him advice, and had listened to him without trying to tell him how to feel

And now it had been over two weeks since he'd heard from the man.

"Up!" Aunt Petunia rapped on the door to his bedroom, startling him, and Harry grumbled. It must be breakfast time.

As Harry trudged down the stairs towards the kitchen, Dudley sneering at him as the larger boy came out of his bedroom. He hadn't tried anything since Harry got his letter, but the threat was always there.

"Morning, Uncle Vernon." Harry tried to be polite as he greeted the whale sitting at the table, newspaper in his porky hands, but Vernon didn't do anything more than grunt.

Grunting was better than yelling, and Harry knew that things could be a lot worse for him.

"Get breakfast started, Harry. Vernon has to work early today." Petunia took her seat at the table, giving him a sharp eyed glare as Harry trudged towards the stove. Breakfast, at least the ingredients, were already laid out, and Harry moved by rote.

"Vernon." Petunia was talking, but Harry tried to tune her out as he put all of his attention on the eggs. "Vernon, look at the front page."

Harry stirred the eggs.

"Petunia, it couldn't be. It's some other boy."

"But Vernon," Petunia's voice was a hiss, "What if it is! Don't you think its a little coincidental?"

"Nonsense, Pet..."

The eggs were smoothly plated, three large plates and one half portion (Harry never wanted to turn out to be like Dudley, thank you very much), bacon placed neatly next to them as the adults continued to bicker behind him.

"It would make sense! I mean, why else would he have..."

Harry slid the plates in front of the two adults, the third (and largest) plate going in front of the seat that Dudley very quickly took when his pig like nose scented food in his near vicinity.

"Thank you, Harry." The words were stilted, and Harry raised an eyebrow. In the seven years, give or take a few, that he had been cooking for the Dursleys, none of them had ever said thank you. Ever.

"Er, you're welcome?" Harry offered, turning away from the awkward exchange to grab his own plate. He would love to escape to his room, eat away from them, but Aunt Petunia would lose her mind at the thought of crumbs getting anywhere but in the kitchen. Even her precious Didley Duddikins couldn't get away with it.

"Petunia?" Vernon's fork froze halfway to his mouth, bits of egg falling onto the table under him as he stared at his wife.

"Just in case Vernon. I won't have him angry at us."

Dudley looked between his parents like he was at a particularly confusing tennis match, but Harry kept his focus on his plate. The sooner he finished it off, the sooner he could clean up and escape to his room again. He had stashed a physics book from the library under his bed before he left for Hogwarts, and he was looking forward to reading it.

It wasn't like he would pay the fine anyway.

Just as Harry scraped the last bit of egg and burnt bacon off his plate, rushing to the sink to throw it in, the doorbell rang.

Vernon and Petunia looked at each other, but neither made a move to get out of their chairs. Dudley would never be bothered to move from his seat when food was involved, and Harry wasn't allowed to talk to 'normal' people.

The doorbell rang again.

"I'll get it," Harry moved towards the door, but Petunia was on her feet before he could step out of the kitchen.

"No. Stay there, Harry."

She was gone in a swirl of skirts.

Tony rang the doorbell of Number Four Privet drive for a second time, exchanging an aggravated look with Happy.

Not only was he here, a continent away from Malibu at the ungodly time of 7:30 am on a Tuesday (He hadn't even known they made a 7:30 am, was that a recent thing?) , he was having to wait on the doorstep of the most cookie cutter, identical, neighborhood's that he had ever had the displeasure to step foot in.

Harry had grown up here?

'Happy, is this thing broken?" Tony asked rhetorically, pushing his finger on the doorbell and pressing until he could hear the chimes sound repeatedly inside. He had sent letters, they knew he was coming, hell it had been in all the papers for at least a week.

There was no way they weren't expecting him.

"Probably not boss, it is early." Happy stood beside him, staged so he could see everything going on, and Tony knew that bulge in his jacket wasn't from a blind tailor. Happy was armed, and would go down firing before he let someone get to Tony again.

Tony grunted, leaning on the doorbell harder. If they weren't awake, they would be awake now.

The door was yanked open suddenly, and Tony looked over the top of his sunglasses the stick thin woman standing in front of him. Dressed like a fifties housewife, completely with tarnished pearls, , Petunia Dursley was everything he thought she would be, and that wasn't much.

"Can I help you?"

Tony had to give her credit, her voice didn't shake when she spoke to him. He knew CEOs who couldn't say the same.

"Absolutely Petunia," Tony smiled and walked into the house, not waiting for her invitation. He had been kept waiting long enough, "I thought that I was clear when I would be here, but apparently not."

"Who is it, Petunia?" The floor vibrated slightly under him, and Tony touched the wall to keep himself from falling over as Vernon Dursley came around the corner into the hallway, completely filling the doorway. "Oh...Mr. Stark!" A smile crossed the obese man's face and he stuck out a flabby hand. "What an honor!"

Tony wrinkled up his nose as he eyed the appendage before returning his gaze to Vernon, merely raising an eyebrow. The other man held his hand out for a few moments longer before registering the billionaire's obvious lack of care and withdrew it.

The man, Vernon, screwed up his face slightly and it grew a bit more red as his moustache twitched. "Erm," he blustered, tugging at his shirt, "is there anything we can do for you?"

Tony felt his irritation bump up another notch as they tried to pretend that they had no idea why he was there. As if he hadn't been sending them money for a decade.

"Let's cut to the chase, Dursley. We both know why I'm here."

Vernon blinked, shifting in the doorway. He looked confused, and Tony began to think that something wasn't right here.

"I'm afraid we don't, Mr. Stark. If you're here to talk about drills, I prefer to do that at the office."

Drills. Dursley thought he was there to talk about drills? As if he needed to outsource drills to a small company no one really heard about.

"Why would I come all the way to London, for drills?" Tony asked. Happy shifted away from the door, coming to stand at his shoulder.

"Boss, maybe your letters didn't get here?"

Tony blinked again. The thought hadn't even occurred to him.

"What letters?" Petunia asked, finding her bravery again. She slid past Happy, and stood next to her overweight husband, the comparison between them reminding Tony of a Laurel and Hardy sketch.

"Seriously? You didn't get any of my letters? Dammit, Pepper, I knew I should have used email. This is what you get for trusting people instead of technology." Tony ranted to himself, yanking his sunglasses off and shoving them in the top pocket of his suit jacket. "Did Harry get any of mine? Maybe Hedwig was more reliable than whatever gets mail from us to you."

"Did I get what?"

Tony's breath caught in his throat, words failing him for the first time in his life, as Harry shoved his way past his uncle to stand in front of Tony.

"Did I get what?" Harry asked again when Tony didn't answer, too busy taking in the changes that had taken over his son since he was a toddler. He had no pictures of Harry, too afraid that people who would use Harry to get to Tony would find them and make the connection, and he hated that he had missed so much of the boy's life. "Hello?"

"Boss," Happy nudged him slightly, and Tony startled. Harry was glaring at him, green eyes almost burning, and Tony swallowed heavily.

"Hi Harry, I'm Tony."

"No, I am not at liberty to give more information at this time." Pepper almost growled the words into the phone. It was the fourteenth call from the press she'd had about the new "Stark and Son" duo, and she was already sick of them. "Yes a press conference will be held sometime in the near future, we just ask that you be patient while Mr. Stark and his son settle in."

"No, that's all the information I am going to give, Ms. Everheart. I'm sure Tony will let you know when he's ready."

Pepper hung up the phone without waiting for a reply, groaning and turning the phone off completely when it immediately started ringing again. She loved Tony, she really did. This was the best job she'd ever had, it was never boring. While sometimes she got tired of wrangling "Tony the Man Child", she had to say it was the most rewarding thing she'd ever done, but occasionally she wished her boss would just think before he opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to his mind.

This could have been handled so much better, a press conference specifically for introducing the idea of Tony having a son, or at least a press release. If Tony would have just thought for once!

"Ms. Potts?" A redhead woman poked her head around the door, a smile on her face and Pepper found herself smiling back. Promoting Natalie Rushman had been a stroke of luck; the woman was amazing with other employees and vicious with the press, Pepper was lucky to have her in her corner.

Even though Legal was bemoaning her loss very heavily, and to anyone who would listen.

"Yes, Natalie?"

"Lt. Colonel Rhodes is downstairs, he wants to speak with you, if you're available."

Pepper smiled, slipping her feet back into her heels and standing up.

"Lay on, MacDuff. I always have time for Rhodey."

If only for a drinking partner when dealing with Tony got too much for both of them.

"Happy, why don't you take Harry to his room to pack his stuff." Tony didn't yell the words, but Harry knew they weren't a request. Tony, his Tony, the Tony from all the letters, was standing in the middle of the Dursley's living room...and the Dursleys cowered from him like he was a god.

It was sort of cool, even though Harry had the feeling that there was something major that he was missing.

"Come on kid, you're upstairs right?" Happy, the stocky man that hadn't left Tony's side since they stepped into the house, smiled and nodded towards the stairs. "Let's go get your stuff, I don't think the boss is going to want to stay here very long if he has the chance. He's a bit of a diva like that." Happy winked at him, and Harry bit back the snicker that wanted to escape.

Tony watched the two go out of the corner of his eye, waiting until they disappeared into the upstairs hallway, before he turned on the Dursleys, quick as lightning.

"Okay, Dursley, what do you want?"

Vernon smiled slowly, beady eyes studying Tony like he thought he would be able to outfox the other businessman.

"Well, we have been taking care of your son for over ten years now, with minimal pay from you.."

Tony frowned, cutting the large man off.

"Dursley, I have paid you, every month, without fail, since the moment you took Harry in. And I don't see any indications that you have put that money towards my son, except what I forced you to do. You didn't send him to a good school like I asked, you clearly don't supply him with the clothes he needs, you did minimal care, if that."

Vernon crossed his arms over his chest, glaring now.

"You paid us pennies, Mr. Stark. If we knew exactly who you were, the amount you offered would not have been enough. We have gone through hell with that boy, and we deserve some payment for that!"

Tony stepped in front of Dursley, wishing he was in the armor so he could give Dursley a repulsor blast that he wouldn't forget. "Watch yourself Dursley," he hissed. "I was planning on just leaving with my son, no muss no fuss, but if you want to fight me you'll regret it."

Dursley swelled like a puffer fish, and pointed a finger in Tony's chest, right over the reactor. Tony tried not to flinch back, and glared harder.

"Now see here, Stark!" Vernon growled, "We have put up with your freak of a son for ten years. We have fed him, clothed him, sent him to school, let you send him presents and letters all these years without expecting anything for our own Dudley who felt horribly left out, and put up with having someone that is not our blood in the house. What you sent us didn't even touch what he put us through."

Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for it. This was always when the threats happened. They were sometimes good threats, and Tony was interested to see what Dursley would come up with. It wouldn't change anything, but it might be good for a laugh.

"Oh? And what exactly do you propose to do about it?" Tony smirked, "What amount of money do you think is 'acceptable'" The quotes were clear, and Vernon glared harder.

"Well considering our hardship," Vernon said, and Tony knew he was about to deliver what he thought would be the killing blow, "and to keep all of this out of the press, wouldn't want your investors to know that you weren't supporting your own child, I think 2 million, Pounds not Dollars, would be a fair price."

"My son is worth more money than I've ever owned." Tony snarled, going nose to nose with the other man, "But if you think I'm going to pay you for providing the absolute minimum care that a human being could be accepted to receive, you are stupider than I thought." Tony grinned, "If you even try to go to the press with your lies, I will make sure you and your wife spend the rest of your days in jail for neglect of a minor, if I can't manage to make outright abuse stick."

Tony stepped back, pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket and sliding them back on his nose.

"The question is, Dursley, do you think your lawyers are better than the worst of mine?"

Dirty Harry had nothing on Tony Stark

Harry slowly packed his trunk under the watchful eye of Happy Hogan, straining his ears to hear what was going on downstairs.

"So, do you like living here?" Happy asked carefully, picking through the clothes (if they could be called that) in Harry's small wardrobe, passing the least offensive articles back to Harry.

"It's okay. My school's nice, and I'm not here all that much anymore, so it's not horrible." Harry answered just as carefully, folding the shirts and sticking them deep in the bottom of the trunk, under his school uniforms and over his books. He knew Tony knew about the wizarding world, but he wasn't sure about Happy and he wasn't going to get in trouble with whatever passed for government in the Wizarding World for letting a muggle find out about everything.

"Do you like school? You got to a boarding school, don't you?" Happy closed the wardrobe, everything else inside a lost cause, and leaning against it. The room was bare, no pictures of Harry with friends or school stuff on the walls, a bare bed with a threadbare blanket and a flat pillow pushed against the far wall.

Harry knew it was depressing, and he wanted to get Happy out of the room as quickly as possible. He didn't want to be judged anymore than he already was. "Yeah, the same school my parents went to. It's great!"

"What's your favorite subject?" Happy picked up the trunk as Harry closed it, grunting a little bit at the weight, and Harry crossed the room to grab Hedwig's cage as the two headed out the door.

Harry frowned as they got closer to the stairs, and the sound of Uncle Vernon and Tony yelling at each other echoed up the staircase. He couldn't make out the words, they were screaming over each other so much it sounded like white noise. Harry's hands began to sweat, and he almost lost his grip on Hedwig's cage.

He hated when people yelled. He hated it.

"You okay, buddy?" Happy asked, coming up behind him as they reached the bottom of the stairs and froze at what he saw. Tony was in Uncle Vernon's face, his finger pointed at the other man's face, with no regard to the shade of red Vernon's face was taking.

Harry knew that color. That's the color Vernon turned when Harry did magic he couldn't control. That's the color that lead to being locked in the cupboard under the stairs for days, and being told how worthless and stupid he was.

Harry really did not like that color.

"Now you see here, Dursley..." Tony shouted, his finger touching Vernon's nose, and Vernon slapped it away.

Harry saw red. Hedwig's cage fell from his hands, and his hands tingled.

"Don't threaten him." Harry growled out, his voice deeper than normal, and inside he was panicking.

It was happening again.

Notnownotnow He thought to himself, even as he crossed the room and pointed a hand at Uncle Vernon. The man's face went white, the color rapidly draining away from him and he swayed on his feet. Harry could feel the magic gathering, he knew what was coming, and Uncle Vernon did too. Harry saw Aunt Petunia and Dudley move as far away from him as they could get, his large cousin covering his backside as he raced up the stairs faster than Harry ever thought he would be able to move.

"Boy, don't you..."

He flew backwards, Harry's magic lashing out and pushing the threat to Tony as far away from the man as he could get him. Harry panted, trying to grab hold of his magic, but he wasn't able to.

He was never able to, not when he got angry like this.

Anger was bad.

He was bad.

Vernon was climbing to his feet, the wreckage of what had once been their kitchen table clinging to his clothes as he stood and coughed.

"Boy, you are going to pay for that." The obese man growled, stomping towards Harry. "You are going to pay for using your freakishness on me."

Harry could feel the magic building in him again, his nails biting into his palms as he clenched his fists.

"Stop it, Dursley. I'm taking Harry, and you'll be hearing from my attorneys for the rest." Tony stepped in front of him, blocking Harry's view of Uncle Vernon all together. He wasn't afraid, either of Harry or Uncle Vernon.

Harry had never been around someone who saw what he could do, saw how he lost control when he was angry, and wasn't scared of him.

"Stark!" Vernon called, but Tony turned his back on him and smiled down at Harry.

"You ready to get out of here, kiddo? I guess you didn't get my last letters, did you."

It wasn't a question, but Harry shook his head anyway.

"No, not since before school ended."

Tony's hand was warm on his shoulder as the businessman steered Harry out of the room, through the front door, and down the driveway to the black car waiting with the engine running.

He didn't look back.

Bruce was in the middle of the jungle when it happened. His bag warm against his shoulder, the leather hand made by one of the people he had managed to save from whatever horrible virus had been spreading through last village, Bruce looked up at the sky.

Hulk stirred, roaring in his mind, and a tingle ran through his body.

"It's happening again," Bruce sighed, forcing his feet to move one in front of the other as he pushed himself through the underbrush around him.

Hulk roared in his mind again, angrier than Bruce had ever heard him, but Bruce wouldn't turn around.

He was headed farther into the Amazon, further away from the humans that the Hulk would love to hurt.

He didn't care what was going on, he didn't care why he had gotten these feelings over and over again over the last eleven years, he just didn't care.

He was a monster, and he wasn't going to give himself anymore reasons for destruction than he already had.

The Hulk roared a final time, before settling in the back of Bruce's mind like a pouting toddler.

It didn't matter, the farther he got from humanity the better.

"Sir? There's been an incident of underage magic," Dolores Umbridge simpered as she pushed open the door to Minister Fudge's office. The Minister glanced up at her, his quill pausing on the parchment in front of him.

"And? Why are you bothering me with this?" Fudge sighed, "There's a whole department that handles that."

Delores nodded, but pushed her way into the room more.

"I know sir, but this happened in Little Whinging, Surrey." Delores placed the file gently in the front of the desk, reverently. "I thought you would want to handle this yourself."

Minister Fudge raised an eyebrow at his undersecretary, and flipped the file open quickly. His eyes widened as he took in the name and location, before slamming it shut and looking at her.

"Who else knows about this?"

She shook her head.

"No one, sir. I made sure of that."

Fudge nodded, climbing to his feet to pace around his office.

If they moved on this, before Dumbledore found out, they would be able to swipe the boy right from under him.

Cornelius Fudge was not a bad man, and he was not a stupid man, but he was a weak man. He knew that, but he surrounded himself with strong people and made himself indispensable. It was how he had gotten where he was, and it was how he was going to stay.

If he could pull this off, he could do what he should have done eleven years ago, he would never have to worry about his position again.

"Call for a meeting of the Wizengamot, Dolores." Cornelius made up his mind, "We have to get the poor boy away from that house and into a good wizarding family, he clearly hasn't learned the control he needs."

Once Cornelius gained custody of the Boy Who Lived, his position in the Wizarding World was assured.

But they would have to move fast, Dumbledore wouldn't like this.

At all.