Chapter 1: Little Ivy Harriet

Here's another one. This is supposed to be crackish. I wanted to do a female Harry, who was so cute she got almost anything she ever wanted. It will be a crossover, meaning that she will meet those from the Marvel verse. They will give her anything she asks. I was going to make one of them her father, but I thought better of it. It's been done to death. It works better that they just do it because she's adorable.

I'll admit that I've only seen up to the Avenger movie. I've read the fanfics and such. So, if my depictions of the characters are off, that's why. Remember, this is crackish. They are going to be a bit OOC. I might throw some other Marvel characters in there as well. I'm thinking Deadpool and Wolverine and such.

I got the idea from my youngest daughter, who was just too cute for words. She could make anyone buy her shoes. Anyone. It was unbelievable how many people bought that child shoes. Or just about anything she asked for. She's still adorable as an adult, but she was Weaponized Cuteness as a kid.

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Little Ivy Harriet Potter was the cutest little girl in the world. She was about six years old and had the most adorable curls of red hair. Her chubby cheeks were just the right chubbiness. The kind that grandmothers wanted to pinch. Her large emerald-green eyes were anime like in their brilliance. She was what Hollywood looked for in star babies. So why was she shoved in a boot cupboard? Well, her aunt hated her.

But little Ivy was a happy girl, which made her aunt hate her more. She had tried to make the girl miserable her entire life, but Ivy was just too adorable to be unhappy. She was loved by everybody, except her aunt. There was just too much bitter jealousy there. Ivy looked too much like her mother did as a child. Lily had always gotten her way too.

Ivy's Uncle Vernon would give her sweets when her Aunt Petunia wasn't looking. He tried to run interference, but he was scared of his wife. Her Cousin Dudley would help her with her homework at school and give her part of his lunch too. He also kept the bullies from picking on her, not that they did, she was just too cute. He would make sure that she had many friends and that people treated her right.

The neighbors loved her too. They let her do small chores for extra pocket money. Like take out the trash, or water the garden. Nothing too strenuous. They liked seeing the little girl happy. They would give her new outfits, telling her aunt that it was something a relative had outgrown. They knew if they ever told the vindictive bitch that they were new that she would bin them. The neighbors were not pleased with Mrs. Dursley, but they didn't know about the cupboard and just thought that she was petty.

Ivy was a lovely child, and she was usually only seen going to and from school and around the front of the house. One of the many chores that she had to do was to tend the garden. Her aunt didn't like for her to have idle hands, so she made sure that Ivy always did something around the house. Uncle Vernon tried to talk Aunt Petunia down, but the woman would not be deterred.

One day a man came. He was a tallish man with brown hair and an expensive suit. He had been wandering in the neighborhood for a while. His car had broken down and he had been looking for a public phone. His cell phone was dead, and he couldn't contact anyone from his office. He was in the burbs, and he didn't know anyone here.

He stopped and looked at the little girl with the head of red curls. He recognized her from somewhere, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Little girl, what is your name?" the man asked, making Ivy stop what she was doing, which was pulling weeds.

"Ivy Harriet," she said, always giving both her first and middle name. Her voice was like the tinkling of bells, and it was just the right pitch to the ears.

"Well, Ivy Harriet, what is your parents' names?" the man said, squatting down a bit to be closer to her height. He didn't mind that the girl's hands were dirty. He could clean the suit. She was just too adorable to be mad at if she touched him.

"My Aunt Petunia said my mum's name was Lily, she won't tell me my daddy's name," Ivy said, a tear in her eye, making the man want to hug her, she was just so cute. He would do anything to make that sadness go away.

"Your aunt sounds like a mean person," the man said, realizing that he recognized where he knew the girl from. He knew her mother, if only briefly. "I knew a woman named Lily. She had hair just like yours. Only not as curly. You must have gotten that from your father," he added, tugging playfully on one of her curls. It sprang back into shape when he let go, making Ivy giggle. There, that is the type of noise that should come from that picture perfect doll like face.

"You really knew my mum," Ivy said, her eyes going wide and bright. No one ever told her anything about her parents. "My aunt doesn't like my mum," she said, softly, looking quickly at the house and then she took the man's hand, making him stand and follow, and drug him down the street to the corner park. "We can talk here," she said, sitting on a swing.

"I didn't know her very well," the man confessed warily, as he sat on the swing next to her, not wanting to give the girl too much hope. "I only knew her for a week," he said, thinking back to the time he had spent with Lily Evans.

They hadn't spent that much time together. He had had business meetings and she had been touring America at the time. She said she had just graduated from school and was only there for the week. He had run into her literally in the airport and offered to buy her a drink. She had informed him that she was underage in America, but had they still been in England, then she would have taken him up on it.

"Oh," Ivy said, her eyes going mournful, which once again looked cute. He reached over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She beamed a smile at him. she was never sad for long.

"I met her when she was visiting Malibu California," he started and told her of the time he had spent with her mother. They had clubbed a bit, and they spent some time on the beach. Lily had told him she was engaged, so they never did what he normally did with unattached females. Not that he'd tell this precious little girl about his playboy ways. All he wanted to do was make her happy.

"She sounds nice," Ivy said when he was done talking. "I am sad that she died in a car accident," she said, her tone mournful.

"Is that what your aunt said?" the man asked, thinking it might have been more than that. The Lily he knew couldn't drive.

"Aunt Petunia doesn't say nice things about my mum," the tiny girl said, hanging her head and sniffling.

"Come now, don't cry," the man said, taking a hanky out of his pocket and wiping the tears off her chubby cheeks. "What can I do to make you smile again?" he asked, handing her the handkerchief.

"Will you find out what happened to my parents?" Ivy asked, her eyes wide and pleading. She knew her aunt was lying because she remembered a green light and a man's evil laugh. "I think my aunt lied to me," she added, making her eyes wider and more yearning.

"I am a very rich man. I think I can find out for you," the man said, taking out a piece of paper and jotting down Lily's name and Ivy's too. "Do you know your last name?" he asked the little girl.

"Potter," she said, her face brightening, making everything around her seem to brighten as well.

"I'll do my best to see what I can find," he said, tucking the paper in his pocket. "Do you know where I can find a phone? Mine is dead, and I need a tow," he explained, holding up his dead phone.

"You can use our house phone," she said, taking his hand again and dragging him to the house. "Aunt Petunia is gone now. I saw her car drive by a minute ago," she said, hoping that her aunt hadn't noticed she had been talking to the man, but not overly confident that she had been missed.

"Alright, but only for a minute. I don't want you to get in trouble," he said, letting himself be dragged by the cute child.

"It's cordless. I'll bring it outside," Ivy said, thinking that was the best solution. That way she wouldn't have brought anyone into the house. So she took him to the house and had him sit on the step, and she got the phone. It was hard, and she had to get the stool to get it, but she got it in the end. She took it to the man and gave it to him.

"Thank you, Ivy," the man said, pushing the correct buttons and calling his driver to let him know that he was stranded in the burbs. He gave the street that he was on, and then hung up. "I'm going to go and wait for my friend at the park. You put that phone away and I'll come back when I know more about your mom," the man said, handing her the phone.

"Thank you, Mr… I never got your name," the six-year-old said, looking at him with a cute tilt of her head. Her curls all fell to the right side of her head in an adorable fashion.

"You can call me Tony."

"Thank you, Mr. Tony," she said, with a charming curtsey. She then giggled and ran back into the house. She put the phone away and stowed her stool. She then went back outside to say good-bye to Mr. Tony. But the man was gone. She looked up the street and saw him walking away. "Bye, Mr. Tony," she called, making everyone that was near look to see who she was talking to.

"Bye, sweetie," Tony said as he turned and walked backwards. He waved and then turned and continued to the park. His mind was going a mile a second, which was not unusual for him, but instead of plans and configurations, he was thinking of the adorable little girl he had just left behind.

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"Hey, boss," Happy said as he pulled up to the curb where his boss Tony Stark was waiting. The man seemed to be preoccupied, which was normal.

"Happy," Tony said, getting in the car. He plugged his phone in right away. "The car needs towed. It broke down about a mile from here. On Twiddlebird lane," he added, thumbing through all the text that he had received while out of touch.

"Twiddlebird lane? What kind of name is that?" Happy asked, getting on his own phone and calling for a tow.

"Beats me, that's the name though," Tony said, thinking of three different derogative he could use with that name, but keeping them to himself for the moment. "You know how the British are," he said with a shrug.

"They're not so bad," Happy said, driving down the road, mindful that he stayed on the correct side.

"No, that's not what I meant, but they do have some strange naming quirks," Stark said, still answering his texts. "Where's Pepper?" he asked, thinking that she would have been with Happy.

"You missed a meeting," the driver said, shrugging his shoulder as if that explained everything, which it did.

Pepper always covered for him when he missed meetings. She was his CEO after all. The only meetings that he was required to attend were board meetings, and R&D meetings. Those were the ones that required his input.

"I'll explain when I see her," Tony said, then booted up his laptop, which had been stored under the seat. "Jarvis, I need you to search for anything you can find of Lily Potter nee Evans. I want who she married, how they died and what they did for a living."

"Of course, sir," the very smart computer said in his British accent. "Did you wish to know anything else about her?" he inquired.

"Just where they lived, and anything you can find out about their death and see what you can dig up about Ivy Harriet Potter too," Tony said, tapping away on his keyboard. He was doing his own research on what to get little girls for Christmas, because he was so getting that child something. He looked through all the websites that had toys. He never knew there were so many. Maybe he'd build her something.

"I would ask if it was a new flame, but you mentioned death and a child," Happy said after everything had been quiet for a while, steering through downtown London. "Not your usual forte," he added, looking back in the rearview mirror.

"I met the most adorable little girl," Tony confessed. "The kind that people would sell their kidneys just to make smile," he stated, reminding himself of Ivy's sunny smile. "She asked me to look into her parents' death."

"What an odd request from a child," Happy pointed out, thinking it was not something a child should be thinking about.

"Her aunt is a piece of work," Tony said, even though he never met the woman.

"Is it an abusive situation?" Happy asked, not sure where Tony was going with this.

"No, I don't think so. The girl looked well cared for," Tony said, trying to see if there was anything off about his interaction with Ivy. "She was a bit frightful of her aunt, but not overly scared of the woman. More like the woman was a hag and not a shrew," he tried to explain.

"Do you plan on helping her?" Happy asked, wondering why this little girl was so important to his boss. Tony didn't like kids.

"I knew her mother," Tony said, like that explained everything, which it did not.

"You know lots of women," Happy pointed out with a smirk.

"Here now, my playboy days are over," Tony said, looking up from his laptop. It was true, he hadn't slept around since he went through the portal. He just couldn't seem to want to party like he used to. Sure, he still went to the parties, and he still got drunk, but he didn't enjoy it like he used to. It was all pointless now.

He turned back to his laptop and saw the cutest little doll. It was a Shirley Temple doll, which Ivy kind of reminded him of. He ordered it and all the clothes that came with it. It cost him a fortune since it was an antique. They would arrive at his apartment here in London. He still might make her a bracelet that would track her. She was just too cute to be left vulnerable.

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"What were you doing talking to that man earlier?" her aunt shrieked at her. Ivy was standing there with her cute little dress all dirty from doing the yard work all day. She had gotten it all done like she was supposed to, but her aunt had seen her at the park with Mr. Tony.

"His name is Mr. Tony and…" the cute little girl started to say with wide innocent eyes, when her aunt lifted a hand as if to box her ears. She hated it when her aunt boxed her ears. It hurt like the dickens for ages.

"I don't care what his name is. You know you're not supposed to talk to anyone," the woman said, tugging her curls in a painful manner. It was bad enough that the gossips on this block thought she was a shrew, she didn't need strangers talking about her too. She had tried to blame it all on Ivy Harriet at first, but the little brat was just like Lily and too cute for anyone to think there was any evil in her. But Petunia knew better. She was the devil's spawn, just like her mother.

"Sorry, Aunt Petunia," Ivy said, tears falling down her cheeks. She was sad and making the others around her sad. Well, not Petunia, but the men of the house were sad that she was sad. They stood behind Petunia, trying to make Ivy smile, but were failing badly. "He was lost, and I helped him get founded," she said, hoping that it was a good enough excuse.

"You are supposed to keep to yourself," Petunia shouted and grabbed the girl by her arm and shoved her in her cupboard. "Stay there," she hissed as she slammed the door. Maybe a few days in the dark would teach the child to cooperate. She could do without supper as well.

"Now, sweetums," Vernon tried to placate his wife. She was always so unreasonable when it came to punishing Ivy. She lavished attention on Dudley, but poor Ivy was treated so poorly.

"Don't you sweetums me," Petunia snapped, turning her ire on him. "I know you have been giving her food when I'm not looking. If I catch you doing it again, you will feel my wrath," she said, then stomped up the stairs to take a bath. "Duddiekins, Mummy is going to take a bath and we'll go get something to eat when Mummy is done," she said from the top of the stairs. "Vernon, make sure Dudley is dressed," she said coldly.

Vernon hung his head. He knew he'd get the couch if he disobeyed. He felt a tug on his hand and looked to see his son smiling at him. Dudley put his finger to his lips and winked at him. He smiled at the lad, knowing that Ivy would not starve.

Things were now normal in the Dursley household.