I loved hearing the opinions on if Steve was crossing a line in telling Tony or not. It's definitely a gray area situation, especially because in the timeframe of this fic, they are really only just starting to become a team. Thank you all for reading/favoriting/commenting!
Note: Just a reminder that Snape "froze" the pictures in Harry's photo album. I don't know if there's a canon way to do it but if they can hide Hogwarts there must be some way for the Statute purposes.
It took Tony less than half a day to see what Steve saw in Harry immediately, but another full day to admit his teammate was right. Whatever was happening with Harry was more than an adjustment period, and it seemed to get worse as the days went on. Before his eyes, the easy-going kid from those first few days, the boy who had listened attentively to Tony in the lab on his first night in the Tower, disappeared, leaving behind a quiet, anxious, borderline morose teenage boy. Worst of all, Tony recognized the same haunted expression on Harry that Tony had in the months following the New York invasion.
Naturally, Tony turned to his tech to figure out what was happening. Since JARVIS still couldn't retrieve any audio recording when Harry was in his bedroom — a glitch that Tony bumped up on his "to-do" list — he had to get a bit more creative than usual. He found himself in the lab on Sunday night, going through every bio-systems report he could find related to Harry's bedroom. He looked at everything, from water usage in the ensuite bathroom to any movement detected by the sensors, trying to piece together what Harry was up to in his bedroom each night. He was about to throw in the towel when he spotted the timestamps on the energy consumption report, which prompted him to specifically dig into Harry's bedroom light usage. That was when Tony discovered the first problem: either Harry had suddenly taken to sleeping with the lights on last week, or assuming he was awake while the lights were on, he wasn't getting any semblance of decent sleep. Tony knew all about how insomnia could mess with someone, and it definitely could explain Harry's less-than-stellar disposition lately. Hell, Tony could get downright insufferable if he strung too many late night work-benders in a row, and he was a professional at running on little sleep.
This discovery led Tony to the question, "why wasn't Harry sleeping?" and it didn't take a genius to narrow it down to either nightmares or insomnia. Genetics certainly could explain the latter. Tony had faced several bouts of insomnia throughout the years, and it wouldn't be the worst training he could hand down to his son. But Steve's uninvited opinion on the matter just wouldn't leave him alone, inevitably tipping the scale in favor of nightmares. So, this led him right to the next big question: what caused such intense nightmares that had the teenager waking up in the middle of the night and more often than not, staying awake afterward? None of his currently functional technology could answer this, but as he crawled into bed just before dawn on Monday, images of Harry spending most of the last four years in a juvenile detention center flashed through his mind.
The gravity of the situation hit him over breakfast on Monday morning, prompting Tony to design and activate the "Family Man" protocol. Under this protocol, JARVIS disabled all of Tony's devices and muted any non-urgent notifications at noon. This would stop Tony from hiding away in his lab, forcing him to be home with Harry every afternoon unless someone triggered the "Shit Hit the Fan" protocol. Next, Tony canceled all his work sessions with Peter for the week. Peter, of course, wasn't happy about it, and gave Tony a myriad of valuable reasons — he'd returned home from Genius Camp and had to hand in his essay about what he'd learned there to fulfill the requirement for the scholarship SI awarded him, he needed to make more web fluid before the weekend, they were right at the end of the news web shooter upgrade, he thought he solved the issue Tony had with the voltage of Nat's Bites. In the end, Tony stood his ground. He had one chance to get this parenting thing right, and he was already feeling like he was on the brink of failing.
Of course, Tony's entire plan depended on Harry opening up to him now that he was physically present, but as he quickly realized, that was not the case. He hardly saw the kid during his first two afternoons home, and by the third day, he was used to entering the silent penthouse, checking on Harry in his bedroom, and then spending the rest of the time in the living room trying to go insane from boredom until their takeout dinner arrived. Tonight, Tony chose Josephine's Italian, and not even the delicious aroma of lasagna and garlic rolls warming in the oven could draw Harry out of his bedroom. Tony's mother, and his grandmother, would be disappointed in both of them.
Tony took two wine glasses from the bar, placed them at his and Pepper's settings, and asked JARVIS to place an anonymous ad for a personal chef.
"Giving up on the recipes folder so soon, sir?" JARVIS replied.
"Hey, I have a growing, slightly malnourished teen to think about," Tony retorted. It really had been unrealistic of him yesterday to start meal planning. "We all know Pepper and I don't have time to cook dinner every night, I'm not asking Harry to cook for us no matter how amazing the meal was, and I don't need to be some superstar parent to know that living off the amount of takeout we eat would be frowned upon by every single pediatrician in existence. Ergo, a Stark Family chef is the best option I have."
"What days and meals would you like me to include?"
"Uh, let's go with dinner only on Mondays through Thursdays. I can discreetly have lunch sent up from the SI kitchens," he replied. As he heard the front door close he hastily added, "And upload all the resumes to my home server."
JARVIS had confirmed everything by the time Pepper appeared in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning in for a kiss.
"Look at you being all domestic house dad," she whispered into his smile. "I think it's a good change of pace for you."
"Well, don't get used to it." He dropped his hands from her shoulder in defeat. "I'll probably be throwing in the towel tomorrow."
"Still no luck with Harry?"
"Nope," he said, giving a nod toward Harry's bedroom to show just how frustrated he was. "It feels like he doesn't care if I'm around or not. In the last three days, all I've accomplished is driving myself crazy with nothing productive to do here."
She swept her hands over their perfectly set table. "Dinner is productive."
"Oh yeah," he huffed and gave such a hard eye roll he was surprised he didn't see the inside of his skull. "Telling JARVIS what to order and setting the table was a real workout. It took me hours to finish."
She playfully slapped his chest, expertly avoiding his arc reactor by just a hair, and then reached for the bottle of wine Tony had perfectly matched with their dinner.
"Give him some space. Remember, this is all new for him too." She poured the red wine into the decanter placed in the middle of the table. "If his aunt, uncle, and cousin didn't like him, he probably isn't used to having someone around who actually cares about him or what he's going through. Remember, you did the same thing with Jim."
He rubbed the back of his neck, deep in thought about what she said. As true as it might be, he'd repeated, and promptly ignored, the same story to himself again and again over the last three days, yet it just didn't seem to make him feel any better. He definitely preferred to be on Harry's side in this type of situation instead of being the adult in it.
"How was your day?" He asked, expertly deflecting the conversation away from him. Leaning nonchalantly against the breakfast bar, he watched her nervously fiddle with the plates and utensils on the table, shifting them around before returning them to the same places they started. Believe it or not, Tony knew how to properly set a table. "You look a bit frustrated. Anyone you need me to fire for you? Pretty sure I can still fire someone and I'm in a fiery mood this week. Pun intended."
"No, not yet anyway," she said, releasing a tired breath. "And, yes, you can say it was a rough day. Someone broke into the upstate facility last night."
"What?!" Tony pushed himself off the counter and in two fast strides approached her at the table. A break-in certainly qualified as 'shit hitting the fan' in his book, meaning no one — specifically, his girlfriend CEO — had officially notified him of it. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"This is me telling you."
"I kind of meant this morning, y'know, when I was actually at work," he argued, craning his head to make eye contact while she unnecessarily refolded Harry's napkin. "Why am I only finding out about it now, Pep?!"
She threw down the napkin, ignoring it tumbling into Harry's chair, and stood straight, practically towering over him in her heels. Pepper never cowered from anyone, least of all Tony, and that fearlessness was one reason he trusted her as the CEO of Stark Enterprises. Occasionally, Tony found it oddly sexy to be on the other side of her fury, but not when she kept something this big from him.
"What would you have done, Tony? Gone up there to help Mary-Ellen inventory the place?" She demanded, pausing for him to reply knowing he wouldn't have gone. After all, he hadn't done so for any of the prior break-ins. "Exactly. You would have used it as a distraction from what you need to be focused on here. It's why you made me CEO–to handle these situations–and I am handling it."
"Fine," he conceded. "Just…" he ran his hand through his hair, messing it up in the process, "we're a tech company, Pepper, how can this happen?"
"They don't have any information on that yet, Tony. At least not that the police have shared," she said, sadly. "As soon as I know, you'll know."
Her tired sign made Tony's stomach instantly knot. How many times had she answered that same question? And how many more times would she answer it once the media found out? He never wanted to add to her grief, at least not any more than usual.
"Any idea of what kind of damage we're talking about, here?" He asked gently, implying that he would drop the subject if she wanted to. At the same time, most of the facility upstate was a warehouse with only a small manufacturing area in the rest. He needed to know how bad the situation could be.
Pepper threw her hand up in the air. "A lot of vandalism. Whoever these people are, they clearly dislike you judging from the graffiti in the pictures. So far the only thing Mary-Ellen reported stolen was boxes of stationary–stationary, Tony! I could have given them whole pallets of pens, notebooks, and stickers… all of it for a fraction of what it's going to cost to clean the facility and change all locks and codes."
Tony didn't soften the blow. A full security system overhaul would be hell, and not just for Pepper to manage. Codes and badges had to be renewed for every department and regular visitors who entered the building. Honestly, it would almost be easier if —
"We'll close it." He announced, and the more he went through the details of the plan he had literally just formed in his head, the more he loved the idea.
Pepper scowled and mumbled, "I believe I may have missed the station for your train of thought. Close what?"
"The whole place!" He exclaimed. He started to pace, his feet and hands moving as fast as his brain as he spoke. "We can find another location for the manufacturing… you're great at finding those places… and I've been wanting to move the Avengers out, anyway. After a few renovations–in the form of a full makeover–upstate would make the perfect new compound for them. You have to agree, we're outgrowing this place, and this was what? The third break in this year that building's seen?" Pepper gave a hesitant, thoughtful nod. "Yeah… Well, I doubt anyone will mess with it if we plop the Avengers there, especially if any combination of them live there full time."
It made so much sense now that he mentioned it that he mentally kicked himself for using the Tower first. Sure, the Tower had the upscale chic atmosphere in the middle of the biggest city, but the blueprint drafts he was forming in his head for the Compound building would be comfortable — an actual home the Avengers could settle down in. Plus, the upstate facility sat on acres of land in the middle of nowhere. While it made the recent break-ins even more alarming, they could use the wooded landscape for outdoor training, walking and running paths, and a place to go to refresh.
Pepper reached out and stopped him in the middle of his fourth lap between the breakfast bar and the couch, muttering to himself about the potential plans and schedules. She moved in closer until they were standing eye to eye, and Tony could have stayed there forever, looking into the face that always made him feel like everything would work out just as it was meant to. She kept her gaze locked on him as she bent down to slip off her heels. They landed in the living room with a clatter, and Pepper shrank down to that familiar height, just right for Tony to wrap his arms around her.
"How about I finish getting the food on the table and you go call Harry for dinner?" She whispered into his ear. "The rest we will figure out later."
Later. In the years he called his "pre-Pepper days", later wouldn't be an option for Tony. Now, he could see how self-centered he had been in those days. He was working on improving his behavior by teaching himself to put things on the back burner for later instead of obsessively dwelling on them all the time.
Harry, Tony found out, was like any stereotypical teenager who valued his privacy, so Tony wasn't shocked to find his door closed when he got to the kid's bedroom. Tony remembered feeling like Harry every time he came home from school, but now that he was the adult in the situation, he really hated the idea of his child sitting on the other side doing who knew what. And given the Stark genes he inherited, Tony seriously reconsidered evaluating the bedroom door rules, especially until he figured out the issue with JARVIS's recording.
When Tony lightly tapped on the door's frame and didn't get a response, he gave it a firmer knock in the middle. The second, and more innocent, reason Tony hated the closed-door thing was because he never knew whether to just walk in if Harry didn't give his permission. That he could ask JARVIS to call Harry to dinner wasn't lost on him. But knowing Tony's luck, Harry would storm out right into Tony's chest as he awkwardly asked his AI to talk to his son for him. Definitely not the impression he wanted to leave, and the kid needed to learn to answer Tony, not only JARVIS.
Tony gave Harry another minute before finally deciding to go in.
It turned out he didn't have to worry about walking in on Harry unexpectedly because Harry wasn't even in his bedroom. He had a brief — and also unnecessary — panic until he heard the shower running in the bathroom next door, making it clear where he was; though it left Tony unsure of what to do next. He could just turn around and leave, telling JARVIS to let Harry know about dinner as soon as he was out of the shower, but standing alone in his room felt like a missed opportunity after Tony had spent the last three days literally waiting for Harry to open up to him. As long as he stuck to looking at things that were out in the open, avoiding opening drawers or digging through the closet, it didn't really count as snooping, did it? Not that he'd be against snooping in the right circumstances, he just didn't think it was that urgent… yet.
As Tony looked around the room, the first thing he noticed was how clean and tidy Harry kept it; rather impressive for a teenage boy. The sheets and blankets were neatly pulled up to the pillow, making the bed look more put together than Tony managed at his age. There were no piles of laundry in the corner — Harry insisted on doing his own when Tony offered to combine his with Tony and Pepper's for Theresa, Tony's private house cleaner, to do — and no stinky shoes haphazardly kicked off by the side of the bed, but there also no knickknacks collected over the years of his childhood sitting out on display on the shelves. In fact, taking another look around the room, if it weren't for the random pencils and loose leaf papers scattered on the desk, a couple of books and a tiny gold ball sitting on the bench overlooking the window, and the tall glass of water on the nightstand, it looked like no one actually lived there. Tony first assumed it meant Harry wasn't comfortable living there, or that the Tower was just a temporary home until he remembered the single backpack Harry showed up with. Considering he grew up with relatives who neglected him, Harry likely didn't have a lot of personal keepsakes to bring from home. Or, more accurately, from his old house to his new home.
Tony promised himself he'd change that — as soon as he figured out what was up with the kid — and he was already brainstorming a list of things to buy: Legos, comic books, anything else Harry mentioned he liked, plus a lot of pictures to brighten up the blue walls… starting with Malibu and possibly Harry and his friends around New York once he got around to inviting them to
With no other personal items in sight, Tony started with the books. There were two books sitting in the middle of the bench: The Next Chess Master and a rudimentary Chemistry textbook. Tony made a mental note of the chess book for later, but finding the Chemistry book a strange pick for a permanent overseas trip, he flipped through it, hoping to uncover some hidden meaning in the pages. Sadly, nothing really stood out to him.
The last book resting on the bench was near the far edge of the window like Harry had been reading it while leaning against the wall and looking outside. Tony's breath caught in his throat the moment he turned it over. This one was different from the other two; it wasn't an instructional book or a textbook. It wasn't an actual book at all. It was a photo album featuring a child on the cover — his child, his mind supplied — sandwiched between the somewhat familiar Lily Evans and a man Tony figured had to be James Potter. Harry seemed to be around a year old, but to be honest, Tony wasn't the best at gauging kid's ages. Logically, though, Harry couldn't be older than a year and a half. At that point, both adults in the photo had passed away, and based on the cheerful couple, caught mid-wave with their equally cheerful toddler, none of them knew of the tragic fate that awaited them.
As Tony flipped through the album, he gained more insight into his son. The first few pages were filled with baby or toddler Harry and Lily's wedding to James Potter. Then they jumped in time to a pre-teen Harry sitting on a train — confirming he took a train to and from school — nestled between a girl with the thickest hair Tony had ever seen and a boy with matching red hair and freckles. Hermione and Ron, Tony recalled. Harry's two best friends. Noticeably absent were any photographs connecting these two eras of Harry's life. They either didn't exist or Harry didn't see them as important enough to put in the album. The heavy lump growing in Tony's stomach led him to believe it was the former.
The sudden sound of the shower turning off pulled Tony out of his brief journey through Harry's photo album. Regardless of how tempting the glimpse into Harry's school life was, he absolutely could not be caught red-headed — literally with the book in his hands… a book of pictures that Harry had never once mentioned in the weeks he'd been living there.
A shimmer of golden light reflecting off the small ball next to the window grabbed his attention as he leaned down to set the album on its back in the same spot he had found it. The metal object, around the size of a ping-pong ball, had no branding or other distinguishing marks on it, and with so few belongings around Harry's room, Tony was curious about what made this little thing so special it was sitting alongside his family photo album. Without really thinking, he reached out to grab it–
"You don't want to touch that."
Tony spun around and found himself face-to-face with a shirtless Harry. With his jeans hanging off his hips, glasses half fogged up, and a towel in hand, trying to dry his messy hair, he simultaneously looked at least a year younger than his nearly fifteen years and far wiser than those. He also looked so much like James Potter in those pictures, Tony finally understood why no one ever doubted his paternity until Lily's letter surfaced; especially considering Harry was now closer in age to Potter when he died than to Tony's current thirty-eight. Back then, nobody had any reason to question it in England, and Tony had no reason to go searching for him, which left Harry slipping through the cracks and ending up in his aunt's abusive home. A fate Tony would spend the rest of his life trying to correct.
"Ooh, then you don't know me too well yet," Tony warned with a sly grin. "As soon as you say I shouldn't do something, it immediately makes me really want to do it."
"Alright," Harry challenged. He crossed his arms around his chest in a show of defiance that had Tony doing a double take, feeling as if he were staring through a window at his younger, slender, paler, and more British self. Unaware of Tony's momentary distraction, Harry jutted his chin toward the ball and said, "Go ahead."
Tony paused. "You know, if it's something legitimately dangerous, I really should know about it. I'll probably have to tell you that you can't have it."
Harry laughed, a sound that took Tony back to their afternoon shopping trip. He hadn't heard much of it since then and it filled him with hope that his efforts to get through Harry's hardening outer shell might actually work.
"Are you scared of it?"
"Absolutely not!" Tony stated, only half-feigning his insult. "I'm Iron Man."
He hung back for just a moment longer before lunging forward to grab the little thing. But as soon as his fingertips brushed against the icy metal, delicate thin wings popped out for the side, and it flitted about an inch above his hand. Tony examined the ball, confused about how it hovered with no wind or audible motor noises. Right as Tony was closing his hands around it, the little ball shot up into the air, leaving Tony's hand grasping at nothing.
"What the hell? Where'd it go?" Tony exclaimed. He looked all around Harry's room, but it was nowhere to be found. If not for the buzzing sound zipping by his ear every couple of seconds, he would have assumed it had somehow vanished.
Harry, however, had a very different reaction than Tony. While Tony's head aimlessly searched around the room, Harry's eyes locked onto something Tony couldn't see. His muscles tensed in time with his flickering eyes until he reached out above his head and, suddenly, the little ball appeared in his hand, almost out of thin air.
Impressed didn't even come close to describing Tony's feelings as he watched his son do whatever one called what he just did. "God, how did you get such good reflexes? I barely saw the damn thing… and you just… plucked it out of the air like it was nothing."
Settling into the palm of Harry's hand, the wings retracted into the sides, leaving it completely smooth with no evidence they were there at all. Harry returned it to a little box on the nightstand beside his glass of water.
"It's a practice tool," Harry finally told Tony, pulling a plain gray shirt on. "It's to help focus my attention, and yeah I guess it helps with reflexes."
Reflexes for what, Tony never got to go ask because Harry pointed towards the door, reminding Tony why he had been there to begin with.
"Someday," Tony said, placing his arm around the teen's shoulders on their way to the table following the aroma of their lasagna and garlic bread down the hall, "we'll let that thing loose in the training arena and see who can catch it faster, you, Clint, or Iron Man."
"What is it you're planning on releasing into the training area?" Pepper asked. She was already at the table as Tony and Harry rounded the corner, serving large portions of salad onto each plate. At least they were getting some vegetables with their takeout tonight.
Tony didn't give Harry a chance to answer, taking his seat as he explained to Pepper, "Harry, here, has this nifty little object that flew so fast it disappeared right in front of me. I literally couldn't see it, but you should've seen him, Pep… Harry's eyes locked right onto it and he just plucked it right out of the air."
"Wow! That's really cool, Harry."
Although Pepper said it in a more patronizing tone than Tony would have used given Harry's frigid exterior lately, Harry perked up at the compliment.
"Thanks," he replied, serving himself lasagna next to his little mound of salad before passing the tray to Tony and then taking a bite. "We use them at school… for fun, mostly. It's a good way to pass the time."
Well, if that wasn't something someone incarcerated would say, then Tony didn't know what was. Fortunately, he had enough sense to bite his tongue, figuratively and physically, before he said so out loud and ruined whatever camaraderie they had fallen into. Unfortunately, Tony had no way of knowing how quickly all of it was about to change.
"And Tony wanted to race this thing with you and Clint?" Pepper asked Harry in her best can-you-really-be-any-less-mature voice.
"No," Tony answered for Harry. "I want to race it between Harry, Clint, and Iron Man."
"That's cheating," Harry huffed. He pushed his salad around on his plate, avoiding eye contact as he made his accusation.
"How do you figure?"
Again like looking in a mirror, the glare Tony finally received nearly made him choke on the piece of garlic bread he'd just taken.
"You have thrusters. And trackers that can find it for you," Harry argued, rapidly. "Basically, all you have to do is tell JARVIS to lock onto it and he'll do the rest. I don't even have my…"
"Yes?" Tony urged when it seemed Harry wasn't going to finish his sentence. Between sounding as if Tony killed his best friend and the deep reddening in the kid's ears Tony really wanted to know what he was about to say.
"I–I can't fly."
"Pfft, neither can Clint," Tony aptly pointed out, missing the tension building in Harry's clenched jaw. "The name Hawkeye is strictly regarding his vision and attack accuracy. There are no wings involved. But for you," Tony winked quickly, "I'm sure I can make you fly someday."
"Tony!" Pepper half-admonished.
From there, the night went from halfway decent to downright terrible faster than Tony thought humanly possible. One minute it felt like they were on the verge of bonding and then the next Harry answered Pepper's question about how it worked with a sarcastic "by magic".
Pepper pretended to be unfazed by Harry's sudden shift of attitude. She asked if he was excited about the upcoming trip to Malibu or if he needed anything for it. Tony knew the answer long before Harry mumbled, 'I don't need anything' because Harry never needed anything. It was obvious his aunt and uncle had taught him to expect nothing, whether he needed or just wanted it. For the trip, Tony would either have to guess what Harry might need — like an extra set of swim trunks or two and sandals — or creatively find a way to slip Harry up to talk.
After a tense dinner, Harry jumped up to help Pepper with the dishes like he had done every night, except tonight they worked in complete silence. Harry usually sounded less guarded talking to Pepper, surely a result of him spending his first week mostly with her, but tonight he stood beside her with only the sound of the running water as he rinsed the sauce off the plates and the shuffling of ceramic coming from Pepper arranging them in the dishwasher. If she noticed Harry's cold shoulder — and Tony knew she did — she made no outward gesture of his silence bothering her.
Tony wasn't as patient as Pepper, and remembering the chess book in Harry's room, Tony invited the teen to a game the second he handed off the last dish before he could sneak away to his bedroom. He couldn't stand another day at home, bored out of his mind, so he counted on sneakily getting some information from him while they played together. If not, he might end up having to ask Natasha for help, and just thinking about him owing her a favor made his skin absolutely crawl. Not to mention, he could already picture Clint teasing him about it when she inevitably told him. He'd never hear the end of it… how Tony Stark needed a spy to extract information from his own kid.
Nope. Chess had to work. Except by the third move, Tony began to seriously question if the book he found in Harry's room actually belonged to him or was given to him as some kind of joke because unless his strategy depended on random chaos, the kid was terrible at chess… and Tony never claimed to be any good at it. Somehow, Tony stayed patient during the long pauses between his and Harry's moves, only offering him advice twice — one which Harry took, and the other he didn't acknowledge hearing at all.
A couple of frustrated grunts from the teen made Pepper glance up from her tablet, catching Tony's eye from the couch where she had been working until the detective in charge of the facility break-in called. Tony took a chance that Harry would abandon the rest of the night to excuse himself to speak with Pepper about the call in her office. They needed downstairs to review the official report, and although Tony never liked Pepper in the offices alone at night, ultimately he understood she had to be there.
The disruption ended up giving Tony the break he needed to start his own investigation when he returned to the chessboard. And with the photo album from Harry's room fresh in his mind, Tony knew exactly where to start–
"You know what was missing in the 'pacchetto di Harry Evans' your professor left with me?" He asked in what he hoped was a curious, and not accusatory, voice. Harry hummed in response, barely glancing up from scrutinizing the board. "Baby pictures."
That got Harry's attention fast, based on how his muscles instantly stiffened, leaving his hand floating precariously over one of his last two remaining pawns.
"Yeah, I don't have a single baby picture of my kid to put in my wallet," Tony continued, pretending not to notice Harry's odd reaction. "Do you have any idea how many board meetings I've sat through where I had to look at baby pictures in those little wallet plastic holders? I think I've more than earned my turn. Are you sure there isn't anything from Surrey we should get? I can fly out there and talk to your aunt and uncle–"
The prospect of speaking to Harry's relatives shook the kid out of his reverie. "Sorry to disappoint you, There aren't any pictures of me there," he practically spat out and slid his pawn up a space; a completely random move if Tony ever saw one. "I told you they didn't like me much."
Tony moved his knight to help protect his remaining Bishop. "Surely your mom and James had some. A new mom always has pictures."
"I'm sure they did," Harry muttered rather grudgingly. "They–" he sighed, releasing what sounded like a relieved breath, "-they left me a… storage unit… of sorts… with everything from the house after they died. I'm sure there's stuff there. I haven't… really had time to explore it."
"I can take you there sometime," Tony offered. "Wherever you're ready, of course."
"Sure, whatever."
Another uncomfortable silence enveloped them, with Harry and Tony taking turns to move. Tony got Harry's two pawns and Harry took the knight Tony fully expected to have to sacrifice.
Fed up at the lingering silence, Tony slid his bishop in place to eventually take Harry's rook, folded his arms on the table, and then said, "Listen, kid. We gotta stop doing this… whatever this even is. I need you to tell me what's going on."
Harry's head snapped up, a combination of betrayal and fear written all over his tired face. "Like what? I already told you about my aunt and uncle."
"Ok, then let's skip them for now," Tony tersely replied. "Let's start on the other end. Where have you been for the last four years? The school in Scotland has no record of you. In fact, I couldn't find anything on Harry Evans at all, and you didn't physically board any train at King's Cross Station in September–"
"Are you spying on me?"
"Technically spying implies being currently watched. I would call this research."
Harry scoffed and stood up from the table, once again crossing his arms in the same way Tony did when he was angry and hurt, and trying hard to keep himself together. "You don't trust me?"
Tony knew the question was a trap. He knew it, and yet he didn't stop himself from answering it honesty. "Can you blame me?"
"Thanks for that!"
Harry moved to leave, but to get to his bedroom he had to pass Tony, who in one swift move, stood and grabbed Harry's arm to stop him from going anywhere.
"C'mon, Harry, what do you expect?" He tried to reason. "A kid shows up here under suspicious circumstances–no lawyer, no social worker, just a creepy ass professor at a school who has no employment information on him–claiming to be mine from a woman I hardly remember? And you think I wouldn't want to verify the information on my own?"
"But the test–"
"Was absolutely correct. You're right! You are my son and, whether you like it or not, nothing is going to change that." His hands were moving as fast as he spoke, trying to convey his concern and worry to his son. "But I also think I have the right to know what I'm walking into. Especially if there are any issues or messes I might have to clean up…"
Harry scowled at the insinuation he made. "There's nothing you need to know."
"Nothing? Nothing at all?" Tony asked, giving Harry one more chance to fill in the blanks himself. He didn't move a muscle. "What about how you went by the name Harry Potter for most of your life, possibly all of your life? Because that's where I found your actual school records—the ones from St. Grogery's. I still can't find anything, under either name, from any boarding school in the UK."
"My aunt probably didn't know my name," Harry replied, a small waver to his quick words. "I told you she and my mum hated each other. They probably didn't talk much before they died and everyone thought James Potter was my father. It's not much of a stretch that she thought I was a Potter. She definitely wasn't making me a Dursley."
"How do you think she enrolled you in school?" Tony challenged, more than asked. He knew the answer, but he hoped Harry would get there himself.
"I–I don't…"
"She used the birth certificate that someone issued the day before you showed up on her doorstep under the name Harry Potter, not Harry Evans!" His voice raised with each word until he was yelling. "Then Harry Potter's records mysteriously end with your dear aunt's letter to Stonewall High dis-enrolling you and stating you'd be attending St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. C'mon, kid! I've turned my life upside down for you, I don't think I'm asking much for a little bit of honestly about where you were for the last four years!"
"Sorry I've been such an inconvenience to you! Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get your precious life back real soon!" Harry yelled back at him.
"Yeah, that's not how this parenting thing works with me," Tony retorted. "Although I'm beginning to understand why my old man celebrated the day he shipped me off to boarding school."
He hadn't meant to say it, not the way it came out, anyway. But as Tony knew all too well, he couldn't take back the words, and standing there, his face frozen as if the words physically slapped him, Tony knew Harry understood the meaning of them too.
"You don't have to take me, you know. Just say the word and I'll be gone," he growled — Tony almost preferred the yelling — and in full teenage fashion, stormed out down the hallway to his room, slamming the door behind him.
Like any other challenge Tony faced in his life, and driven by his own disappointment, Harry's blatant disrespect, and his still unanswered question, Tony acted impulsively and took off after his son. The problem was unlike those other challenges, there was no magic formula for extracting information from Harry… at least none he wanted to personally use… making the solution to his Palladium poisoning seem almost easier than talking to Harry. Even if the right formula miraculously came to him during the short trip from the living room to Harry's bedroom, it wouldn't have prepared him for the sound of Harry's crying echoing into the hallway from under the closed door. He froze, his hand unsteadily hovering above the doorknob, once again unsure of how to proceed.
Should he storm in there and demand respect? Or give Harry space? Or was standing outside and talking through the door a better compromise?
Tony tucked his shoulders up and slowly slid down the opposite wall, wishing Pepper was there. She would know what to do and what to say to make things right. She always knew what to do. Tony wasn't Pepper, and as much as he wanted to believe he wasn't Howard Stark either, he felt dangerously close to crossing the line he'd promised himself he'd never do.
Finally releasing a frustrated sigh, and feeling more unsteady than he had in years, Tony retreated towards the kitchen, fully intending on cleaning up the chessboard and strategizing his next real-life move. But as he passed by the front door, he realized that what he really needed was some space… a lot of fucking space to get his head back in the game.
"JARVIS, tell me if Harry leaves the Penthouse, and let Pepper know I went out for a bit," he snapped, barely hearing the AI's response as he rushed to the elevator.
He wanted to go down to his lab, to tinker away the stress building up in his body, and having limited himself to half-days gave him plenty of projects he could lose himself into. Regardless of what he wanted, though, his thumb continuously pressed itself onto the UP button mid-debate.
Guess I'm going to the gym instead.
After almost a minute of impatiently waiting for the elevator, he pounded his fist onto the UP button for the sixth, seventh, and eighth time, desperate to create a physical space between himself and Harry. It finally opened on the ninth hit, and in his haste to enter, he ran directly into Pepper, returning from meeting the investigator. She had obviously been the reason for the elevator delay.
"Tony!" She exclaimed, holding onto him as they both now exited the elevator and the doors closed behind them. "Are you alright? What happened? Where's Harry?"
"Harry's in his room. Actually, will you check on him for me? We kind of…" he shifted his weight awkwardly between his feet, "we… uh… we had an argument just now and I just… I can't be there. I'm going to go up to the gym for a bit, work off this extra energy I have pouring out of me."
"Yes, of course, I'll check in on him." She lightly grabbed his arm, giving him a slight squeeze and drawing all of his attention to her. "Do you need anything?"
He shook his head, not because she wouldn't give him good advice, but because he needed answers, and those he had to find himself. "How did things go with the detective?"
She waved off his concern. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Nothing will get fixed tonight." She leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheeks. "Don't stay up all night, alright?"
"I'll try not to wake you coming to bed." He nodded, and with his fist pressed the UP button once again. This time the door opened right away, as the only other user of it stood in front of him.
The Avengers gym was on the floor with the theater, kitchen, library, and small lounge, and had all the bells and whistles one would expect from a superhero team. Each person had helped design his or her own preferred area. Steve liked to use the punching bags, and Tony had a recurring monthly order to replenish them at the rate the super-soldier damaged them. Clint and Natasha usually choose the hand-to-hand combat or the weapons practice arena on the floor above the combat arena, accessible via the glass stairway connecting the two venues. Bruce rarely visited the official gym, not that anyone would ever say so to him, and instead got his exercise swimming laps in the pool upstairs or on the indoor walking path around the top floor. Tony had built a similar path on the twentieth floor for SI employees, to keep the Avengers and SI work completely separate.
Tony's area?
After a quick visit to the locker room to change into the gym clothes he kept stored there, Tony headed straight to the weights. Despite how easy it might look to the casual observer, controlling his Iron Man suit took a lot more muscle strength than most people would think. The titanium alloy and his state-of-the-art hydraulics couldn't fully make up for the sheer weight of the mechanics and artillery — albeit limited compared to Rhodey's suit — he carried hidden within it, so while reducing the weight was a continuous priority for him, realistically he'd never get it to a level where he wouldn't need to be physically fit to wear it.
He was hardly ten minutes into his workout when thoughts of Harry's drama crept back in. The less Harry confided in Tony, the more probable it became that he would have to pay a visit to the family who had abused his son, despite Tony's best efforts to avoid making the trip across the pond. Unless, of course, Harry had run away and was now trying to hide from his aunt because either he was a juvenile delinquent — he never denied attending St. Brutus's —, she was part of some cult, or he just wanted to get away from her abusive nature. If any of those were the case, then Tony didn't want to reveal Harry's whereabouts to her by showing up. Even if the documents formally ending their guardianship were legal, she could cause him trouble. All Harry had to do was tell the truth and Tony would do whatever it took to help him. He'd make sure Harry never had to see the Dursleys again.
Still, none of his theories felt completely right, and he suspected he was missing one or two crucial pieces that would finally bring the puzzle together.
By the time he completed his weight rotations and walked to the treadmill to cool down, the convoluted thoughts about Harry made Tony's brain ache worse than when he arrived at the gym. He booted up the treadmill's screen and attached the specialized sensors designed to monitor his heart during all of his cardio workouts. Monitoring his heart during his workouts was the one piece of advice Tony took seriously from his doctor post-arc-reactor, so he programmed the treadmill not to start up unless he had the sensors attached. This way, the machine could react to his readings in real-time, like not speeding up, or even braking abruptly, if anything seemed off.
The screen in front of him not only showed him all of his health data while he ran, but it also provided him access to his servers to work. Needing a distraction from his family issues downstairs, Tony pulled up the police report on the upstate facility's break-in to search for any clues of who might have done it. Two sentences in, he noticed something concerning. Unlike the other break-ins, the culprit in this instance had actually gotten inside the building, meaning the vandalism covered the entire structure instead of just the outside walls. The security footage, too, was perplexing because, while having some of the best frame rates available, it showed no faces and, in one instance, a blur of a person rushing by.
The last page of the document held the inventory report, compiled by the facility manager, Mary-Ellen, listing all the items that were missing. As Pepper had mentioned earlier, most of the items were marketing materials — SI pens, notepads, mugs, and shirts — except for the stickers. The ones on this list were not his marketing "let's give these out to prospective clients or visiting school groups" stickers, but their official manufacturing labels primarily used on the product boxes. This further complicated matters, and he made a mental note to ask Pepper whether she notified the lawyers in case of any potential counterfeit claims. He had no doubt that whoever broke into the facility knew exactly what they were doing and hoped to disguise their prize by stealing other "innocuous" things.
A set of four consecutive loud beeps from the treadmill alerted Tony that his rising, off-beat heart rate triggered the automated slowdown. Good, he was about to slow down, anyway; probably wasn't the best idea to study police documents while running.
Just as she promised, Pepper was still awake when Tony walked into their bedroom a few hours after he had cowardly abandoned Harry, and she was still awake when he finally collapsed into bed after showering. They didn't talk about what happened that evening, whether Harry said anything to her, or what Tony discovered about the break-in. He just wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as he could. He let himself go, pouring all of his raw emotions into loving Pepper. For once, he just gave in to the sleep that was creeping up on him. He let his body, still naked and entwined with Pepper's, succumb to the blissful sleep, hoping it would mend his inner wounds and prepare him to face the trials that the next day would inevitably bring.
Deep asleep, he dreamed about Pepper… of their secluded lake house — they really should visit there more often — where they lived a simple life. No board meetings. No Avenging. Nothing besides the two of them, Harry, and their little girl. In his dream, he had just tucked his daughter into bed when an alarm went off around him.
Back in the Tower, Tony bolted up in bed at the sound of the perimeter alarm blaring from the ceiling and JARVIS informing him, "I've detected a breach in Master Harry's bedroom window."
Endnote: Horrible cliffhanger, I know. I usually don't like to leave ones like this because I hate when I read them but I'm not sure if I'll be able to squeeze the next chapter out before I go out of town soon. Just know that the next several chapters are already written so it should be quick to update once I'm back.