ARC II

- 03 -

Harry, I'm Your Father

The kid was a replica. Did he ever get that stubborn look on his face when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds or idiots?

"Hawwy he-ah," the blonde little girl was a charmer. "Bwock."

Damn, she had her older brother wrapped around that pinky of his. Mind, Tony barely knew the tyke and already the seven-year-old blondie had him by the bleeding heart. He observed the duo from behind a glass window that was dark to the kids in the room. Beside him Reginald was finishing up a call before placing his phone into his pocket. The other man was not grinning per se although he did seem to have a softer look with a barely visible smirk on his face if one squinted.

The boy, Harry, was gentle and kind as he directed his sister where to place the block. He could barely hear him tell her; "Vi, place it here and I'll do the rest."

Shit, he felt something tingling in his chest that was completely apart from the reactor.

"Arc de Triomphe," Reginald stated suddenly. "I wonder where he saw that landmark."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Look closer Mr. Stark at his foundations. He may not complete it today although given time; he might finish it within the month. Last month he finished replicating in his words, the tower from the movie with the little men and the elves." The aristocratic man replied.

Tony looked closely at the black hair child's work. Saw the foundation of what looked like squares and how quickly the child seemed to be placing the blocks down. Reginald continued with his soliloquy as the American remained observant of the children. Apparently, they were usually in two hour sessions with a couple of therapists. Part baby-sitting and part observance since Petunia had left. The sessions were also one of the keys applied to Harry's rehabilitation. The boy was calmer working through some of the tougher things in his young life when he was working on something. Viola who was a little young still did help her older brother. They were working on her lisp.

"Two hours, twice a week," Reginald stated. "After this month they're only cutting it down to two hours once a week as was recommended by their therapists. The sessions have been vital to their growth. Harry had not spoken a word to anyone for nearly six or seven months since his aunt's passing. Viola can speak 'normally' but chooses to remain lisping in public I'm told. They are still working with her on that really."

Tony felt that sick feeling in his gut. The kids were damaged in ways he, himself, could probably relate to in some degree. However it didn't mean it was right. In the ensuing quiet as he watched the two children interact with their therapists. He saw the careful way Harry handled his sister. The slight protective streak he developed, seemingly out of habit watching things around them both as if waiting for the ball to drop. He watched as Viola seemed to stick close to her brother (unless they were colouring) and the way both of them kept their voices level. Cool, calm, collected. They didn't smile much he noticed. They did hug each other but shied away from the adult therapists if they got too close. In little ways, in little movements the genius pensively observed wondering how he could speak to them both. For it was no longer a question of just having his son. No, he'd have both the Potter kids as part of his family else his name wasn't Tony Stark, the Iron Man.

"Would you like to meet them Mr. Stark?" Reginald finally asked after what seemed like an age. "They are almost done their session and I will be escorting them to eat some luncheon. You are welcome to come along so to speak."

Tony glanced at the aristocratic man's way noticing the impassive look there. He gave a murmured ascent to the request. He followed behind him as Reginald spoke to the children who seemed a little bit warmer to the proper Englishman.

"Hello Harry, Viola. I would like to introduce you to a new acquaintance of mine. This is Mr. Tony Stark and he will – " He was interrupted by Harry's and Viola's twin shouts of Iron Man.

"Wow!" Harry murmured in surprise, eyes wide. "Mr. Whyte this is really Mr. Stark right?"

"Iwon Man!"

Tony couldn't help but deliver his best smile. It took everything in him not to grin with full sharky teeth because of the simple pleasure of knowing that the kids at least recognized him.

"Yes kids, I'm Iron Man." Tony nodded. "You mind much if I join you?"

"No way," Harry grinned widely, green eyes gleaming. "If Duddy was around he'd want to use the loo out of excitement. Wicked! Do you really have a suit made of iron?"

"Gold-titanium," Tony replied. "Not iron. Iron is too brittle a material."

Twin, tiny eyes stared at him and he could have sworn they both made an "ooh" noise. It was discombobulating to be seen in a better light as a superhero than as Tony. Still, he'd take what he could get.

"Why are you seeing Mr. Whyte sir?" Harry asked finally, intelligent eyes seeming to put pieces together.

"Don't mattah Hawwy." Viola grinned. "Is Iwon Man! Iwon Man don't need a weason."

"Perhaps we can ask questions for Mr. Stark ("Iwon Man! Unca Weg ge' it wight!") – yes – we can certainly ask these sort of questions over luncheon." Tony couldn't help but smirk with glee watching the aristocratic, very put-together man stumble over his words in the face of his charges.

"Lead the way champ." Tony nodded towards Harry who seemed to return the equally mini-version of the same smirk he'd given Reginald. The other man seemed to glare at him without words. Tony exacerbated the situation by teasing the Brit a little when Viola once again corrected her "Unca Weg" for not calling him Iron Man.

"Yes Reggie, Iron Man. Get it right." Tony beamed. The other man seemed to take everything in with a grain of salt. The control he exerted over himself not to roll his eyes was monumental.

- o -

While the shiny newness of being at the same table as Tony Stark, The Iron Man was a novelty to be cherished. Harry James Potter knew in his young mind that there were only three reasons a superhero would want to dine with them. After all who were Harry and Viola anyway? Just a bunch of kids caught in the middle of a bad situation.

He was eight, not blind.

Something weird was happening. Then again he ought not to be surprised when strange things occurred to them anywhere they went.

"Mr. Stark," Harry began. "Er – Iron Man (he corrected himself after seeing Viola's mouth open), sir, what brings you to eat with us today?"

"Good company I suppose," Tony grinned. "Also because Reggie here invited me; didn't you Reggie? We're actually discussing super top secret confidential superhero business."

"What kin' ob bwizness?" Viola lisped. Harry watched Tony lean forward towards his sister who was in a raised seat with an intent look on his face.

"It's the kind of business that involves good pasta." Tony replied. Viola and Harry frowned both at that. What was super top secret confidential superhero business about food?

"Dat's widicuwous." Viola stated. Harry snorted.

"Beg your pardon?" Tony frowned.

"Widicuwous!" Viola nearly yelled.

"Miss Viola," Reginald interjected before the blonde could go into a bit of a fit. "I understand you think super top secret confidential superhero business concerning good pasta is ridiculous. I will be less understanding should you continue to fling your fork around as if it cannot be used as a weapon."

Three sets of eyes stared at the elegant man in their midst. It was comical. Really, truly it was and Harry had to laugh. He couldn't help it. Mr. Whyte was so posh and seemingly serene. There had only been one time he had been angry in front of him and Viola. That one time had been directed at Uncle Vernon. Even then Harry admired Mr. Whyte's restraint. His sister on the other hand; seemed to worship the aristocratic man.

"Well lovely," Tony said looking at Viola finally. "I guess pasta as a secret mission is ridiculous. However, I think there's something even more ridiculous than that."

"Oh yeh?"

"Yes," Tony smirked. "Mr. Unca Weg here thinks you can hurt someone with your fork"

Here the little girl frowned at Tony then proceeded to stare at her fork. Harry looked at his sister kindly and both of them seemed to share a silent thought between them.

"Sowwy." Viola declared, gently placing her fork down (or as gently as a hyperactive seven year old could) on the mat.

"No problem kiddo." Tony nodded.

"Indeed." Reginald said, wiping the corner of his mouth with the proffered table napkin. Eying Viola and Harry he quickly put his plan in motion. A plan neither Harry nor Tony was privy to. "I believe Miss Viola, you and I will need a moment to look at the dessert menu. Mr. Stark – Iron Man – here has something to say to your brother."

She frowned and Tony felt like he'd been thrown into a den of hungry lions. Honestly, that had been a surprise.

"You'll be okay?" Viola asked her brother with a slight tilt of her head.

"Yeah Vi, it's Iron Man," Harry grinned though nervously. At a loss of what could possibly be required of him by this infamous hero. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Hm," the blonde murmured. "Unca Weg, wead da way."

Both disappeared from the table, hand to hand. Reginald walked tall and proud with the little blonde by his side clutching onto his good arm. Tony had to gather his thoughts for a moment when those same piercing green eyes looked into his intensely.

He didn't have a clear plan of action and really what he could say to a child he just literally met. This child was biologically his and although he only spent two hours watching from behind tinted glass. It was two hours' worth of categorizing and agonizing observations about the boy. It was two hours' worth of feeling guilty and depressed. It was two hours' worth of worrying that this boy wouldn't like him as him, as – well – as a dad. Then again he also had spent hours even before this moment, as soon as he found out that he had had a son, feeling self-depreciating and crippling concern.

"Harry, uh, I actually am here for a super top secret superhero business proposition." Tony managed finally looking back at the eight year old. "That doesn't have anything to do with pasta."

The boy frowned. "Well then, why tell me?"

Tony cleared his throat with some water before pressing forwards. "Well you see, superheroes can make mistakes too. Sometimes they do this without even realizing it. That is to say – uh, well. Hm, I suppose, well, ah have you ever wondered about your parents?"

"They died in a car crash." Harry said matter of factly. "Aunt Petunia said so."

"Oh," Tony sighed. "Well, what if not all of them died?"

The frown on the boy's face was remarkably close to his. He recognized how the boy's eyebrows furrowed down the middle and how those green eyes darkened with concentrated concern. Quite honestly it was adorable yet freaky. Like someone had replicated his DNA and created this better piece of art in front of him.

"How can someone have more than one set of parents?" Harry asked finally.

"Uh," Tony licked his lips. "Well, what if one of your parents had you with someone else?"

"Huh?"

Shit, he would have to figure out a different tactic. "What if you had two dads and one mommy?"

The confusion on the boy's face was priceless. Tony didn't know how else he could broach this topic gently. After all, they had just met. He took a deep breath in and decided to just go for it. Cut to the chase with the truth. "Harry, what I'm trying to say is – I'm your father."

"Beg your pardon?" Harry rejoined swiftly.

This was going to be a long -

Author's Note: Happy New Year! Thank you for your reviews, faves and follows. I hope this piece wasn't too rushed (it felt slightly rushed and like I was pulling teeth getting some of this chapter going). I'll probably do some fleshing out in the next chapter. That said, I hope this will suffice for the time being. Thank you once again! Cheers, Dae