Chapter Text
One of the interns was at the kitchen table, shoulders shaking, and Tony did not know what to do.
She was one of the new ones, on recommendation from a friend of a friend. Her-mee-onee or something like that. (Tony could never remember her first name). She was good, but a little on the green side. Her work in theoretical physics was astounding, but give her a calculator to put together and she was helpless. Hence the internship. If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d swear she’d never seen a computer before.
But here she was, crying silently at the kitchen table at 3 in the morning, her bushy hair hiding her face and parts of a letter.
“Hey, Granger,” he said, not too loud and pleasant. His specialty.
Her shoulders gave one last shiver and she wiped at her eyes. “Sorry, Mr. Stark, I didn’t think anyone would be awake.”
“Tony, remember? No formalities when we’re all living together.” He finally stepped into the room and started putting together the coffee pot. It was a bit early, but he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep anyway. His intern sniffled a bit in the silence.
“What’s got you up, anyway? Nature of the universe?” Usually, he’d be more upbeat. Distracting. But sincerity seemed to be the only thing for a mostly empty kitchen at 3 am. He flicked the coffee maker on and turned to face her.
“I… well…” She bit her lip, rolling it over her teeth as she thought. Staring directly at him with her swollen, red eyes, though, like she could pick him apart through sight alone. She came to a decision. “You remember those terror attacks that were all over Britain a year ago?”
Ah, those. Those were the reason Granger had been eligible for this particular internship to begin with. Tony nodded.
“Well, a friend of mine was caught up in them too. With me. And he’s…” Her eyes welled up and she looked back down at the letter in her hand. Parchment, Tony noted, and a wax seal like some sort of medieval scribe. “He’s not doing well. Adjusting.” Tony didn’t point out that Granger, too, was having trouble adjusting.
“He’s really bad. He’s not… He won’t…” She looked at him suddenly, eyes fierce and determined, and Tony would have stepped back if the kitchen counter wasn’t already digging into the small of his back. Damn, kid.
“He needs to get out. He needs new scenery, less press. And I know I could help him! But I’m here, and I can’t just…”
“You can’t leave,” Tony said, a little desperately. She narrowed her eyes, but Tony didn’t take it back. This program was good for her, it was good for all the kids he had accepted, and, judging by what he knew of her, it might be the only sort of help she would accept. He couldn’t, in good conscience, not help a kid like her.
“I can’t just bring him here,” she corrected.
The words went off like a bell in Tony’s head, and he smiled. “Why not?”
She scoffed, and it looked so natural he almost laughed. “And what, just bring him into to tower? Let him sleep under my bed?”
“I mean, you could do that, or we could just set him up in his own room.”
She placed her hands on the table as if the steady herself. “You don’t mean…”
“Why not? There’s plenty of space. We could even set him up with a few projects, get some real world work experience and everything.”
“Mr. Stark,” she said faintly, a small, hopeful smile growing on her face. “If you think I’m bad with technology, just wait until you meet him. He’s been known to blow up cell phones.”
Tony snorted a laugh. “Tony. And remind me never to ask you for a recommendation. I’m sure he can sort paperwork or something. Why don’t you write him back and see if he’s interested? I’ll get everything sorted by morning.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” Her eyes were watery again, but Tony didn’t feel bad this time. He turned away to pour himself some coffee. “This really means a lot. I don’t have many friends and we’ve known each other since we were eleven so… Thanks.”
Tony snorted again. “Call me Tony. What’s this kid’s name anyway?”
He turned around just in time to see the beaming smile on her face. “Harry Potter.”