The glow in Harry's emerald eyes had lessened, but it was still there—faint, pulsing, like embers in a dying fire. But this fire wasn't dying. It was waiting, simmering beneath his skin, tied to his emotions in ways Harry didn't fully understand.
Tony hadn't stopped staring. Not in fear, not in judgment—just observation. Calculating. Like an engineer piecing together an unknown element.
"So," Tony said after a long silence, stretching his arms as he leaned back into the old couch. "Are glowing eyes a wizard puberty thing, or should I start checking if you've been bitten by a radioactive basilisk?"
Harry smirked. "I think I'd be dead if that happened."
"Good point. Still, the glowing is new, huh?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I've always been… strong, magically speaking. But this? The glow? It's never happened before."
Tony drummed his fingers against his knee, his mind clearly working a mile a minute. "So what changed?"
Harry hesitated. What had changed? His power had always been strong, sure, but the glowing was new.
Then it hit him.
His emotions. His magic. His father.
He had spent years pushing down everything—his grief, his anger, his exhaustion—because the world had demanded it of him. He had been a symbol, a warrior, a leader. Never just Harry.
But now? Now he was Harry Stark. And maybe, for the first time, his magic wasn't being held back by old constraints.
"I think it's you," Harry said before he could stop himself.
Tony blinked. "Hate to break it to you, kid, but I don't usually make people glow."
Harry exhaled sharply. "No, I mean… my magic. I've never let myself feel like this before. Like I actually have someone."
The words hung between them, heavy and raw.
Tony's face changed. The humor faded, replaced by something deeper—something unreadable. "Kid…"
Harry shook his head. "I didn't mean to say that."
"No, you did." Tony's voice was softer now. "And I get it."
Another silence stretched between them. This one wasn't awkward—it was understanding.
Then Tony sighed, rubbing his face before looking at Harry with something dangerously close to determination.
"Alright," Tony said, standing up suddenly. "Here's the deal. We don't know what's going on with your magic. We don't know why your eyes are doing the whole glow-in-the-dark thing. But I do know one thing."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"You're not alone in figuring it out."
Harry's breath hitched.
Not alone.
He had fought battles, faced death, and walked through hell thinking he had to do it all alone.
But now?
Now there was someone standing beside him.
A father.
His father.
And for the first time in his life, Harry let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—he didn't have to carry the weight of the world alone.