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“Oh James, he’s definitely his.” Lily giggled, leaning her head on her husbands shoulder
“Dang, I hoped he’d get my hair, can’t deny it though, Tony had better.” James tsked, fluffing up his dark tight curled hair, while Harry was sporting dark brown hair that spiked in several directions, with a bit of static they could easily make a mohawk on him. Provided endless entertainment for the couple.
“How in the world do we tell him?” Lily snuggled to her husband's side, taking his hand as she kissed his shoulder, stroking her thumb over his palm.
“ How about… ‘Congrats, It’s a boy’? James sniggered as he poked at the child's cheek, paler than him as well. He kissed his head, peppering him in kisses softly.
“Well, since we’re going to be doing a family blood bonding, I’m sure he’ll have a blast figuring out how Harry has three parents.” Her warm green eyes full of mirth, stroking along his fingers gently. “He has now had a child with a witch so…technically he can be told.”
“I’ll write him a letter.” James smiled, kissing her slow and tenderly as he went to pen out the outcome to their pal, who when they’d stopped some asshole from spiking something into his already likely deadly concoction of drugs and alcohol, had taken them out for a joyride in a most wonderful convertible, racing through the night, while none of them should have been out there, and they’d spent three days together afterwards, all spoiling and enjoying each others company quite intimately.
Communicating was a bitch, but they had sent Sirius out with the letter to be posted to the man; muggle mail was a bit safer for when wizards were expecting owls everywhere.
~~~~
Unfortunately, the night that the letter had reached Tony, he had been going over quite the party, things getting shattered, papers flown everywhere, piles covering each other haphazardly, and when it got shoved away into a stack with blueprints and old birthday cards from Tony’s mom to him as a kid- one letter of the lineage for a Harry James Potter Stark got lost in the mess, for six years.
Six years in which Tony took over the family company, got kidnapped by terrorists, had the family friend turn on him from apparently having been selling his weapons to the enemies, to the highest bidders, and for him to become Iron Man.
He was digging through his old papers, looking into the older blueprints for what exactly was bugging him about his fathers works, when he came across the birthday cards from his mother with other papers.
He sunk against the window, slowly shifting through them, with a faint wet smile stroking over the letters of her penmanship, before he came across the quite odd, heavy letter. He blinked, looking at the penmanship that seemed like its heavy hand belonged on the Declaration of Independence, when he opened it, having to read over it three times, and the scotch on his empty stomach hit hard, bringing itself back up as he let out a hysterical laugh.
Great. Just Great.
On top of everything happening, he had a kid out there somewhere. He pinned it up in Jarvis notes being scanned in to remind him about it in a couple months when the latest nonsense with this Ivan idiot was over.
Then it drawled on longer, and it was a few more months until he had time to deal with that again. When he finally looked up the family so he could get in contact with them, he felt worse than when he first realized there was a seven, almost eight year old out there he was a missing dad to. His mom and the adopted dad were dead, the kid was seized from an abusive aunt and uncle, and had gone missing as a runaway in the foster system.
He would get a reward for being the world's shittiest parent, surely.
Fantastic.
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Harry watched through the top of the staircase spandrils down at the family below. It was his last day here. Children Services had stepped in. Finally.
He had tried for so long, so hard to be a good kid to them… he was just never enough though.
He’d smile, he’d keep his head down, he’d stay quiet, whatever they wanted… if they’d just leave him alone.
Dudley was a right prat when around his parents, but in the quiet dark hours of the morning when the whimpered gasps of his cousin under the stairs startled him awake, he’d make his way down, and found his cousin more than once curled up in the dirty mattress in the corner, holding his arm that had been turned black and blue, or with a rise across his cheek because the day after his mom gave him a haircut, it dared to grow right back out again, or a dish fixed itself, or the roses turned odd colors. They punished Harry for things Dudley thought they should be relieved for. (Neighbors adored the bright red roses with gold edges to their petals way more than the plain soft pink everyone else had, he didn’t see the problem. And to be mad your china set wasn’t incomplete when he fixed a plate? What?)
Dudley would gently pull his cousin into his arms and hold him close, protect him from the spiders, his mom, his dad, the nightmares of a woman screaming by a green light. (Maybe Harry’s mum's car had crashed with them near a store? Green open signs were common enough.)
~~~~
Dudley had a weird turning in his gut, and from then, not sure what to do. He knew his parents didn’t even want him looking at Harry, but when he saw the boy, younger than him by five weeks, but years smaller…the little six year old decided he would find work arounds.
He scoffed when Harry cooked breakfast and wasn’t allowed to eat until they were done, and once his dad left for work, Dudley would leave about half the food on his plate and push it away complaining it got cold too fast and he couldn’t eat it now. His mother, always watching her figure, though he didn’t get why, didn’t want to peck at it, but refused for things to go to waste either, and started leaving it to Harry that he could have it.
It took three months of this for a bit of fat to make it into Harry’s sunken cheeks, and to get in shape too, he insisted Harry should carry their bags when they walked home from school, that he couldn’t be bothered to. Two loads of books, homework, and the random bottles and sand filled toys he put in his bag would help Harry put on more muscle. On tv they talked about carrying weights while walking all the time to help tone their legs or arms. Harry could use that.
When it was the dead of the night and he held Harry in comfort against the nightmares that plagued him, or their walks home, he let himself be softer with him.
“Why…do you always want Aunt Petunia to stack so much on your plate when you never finish it?” Harry hesitantly asked, on the third week of their walks.
“You know Da loves your cooking, though he’ll always have something to say opposite…If I don’t grab it, there will be nothing left for you.”
The way Harry’s eyes had widened in shock and so much warmth and hope by that small gesture stirred a feeling in his gut…like razors? Or blunt end of knitting needles getting jabbed in his side? Either way he hated it, and heat filled his face as he looked down, walking faster to force Harry to jog after him.
Why did his parents hate Harry so much? He was a little weird yeah, but they treated him…dirty.
He knew he had to be careful or Harry would be punished for Dudley making friendly with him.
“I can’t be nice in front of Dad but…what I say around him is just rubbish, hm? If I talk you down enough maybe he won’t hit you…but…you really aren’t bad, Harry.” He looked ahead with their walk, hands shoved into his pockets. It had taken him too long to put things together already, but he’d seen his friends with their siblings and cousins…none of them treated their family nearly as bad as his own did to Harry, and he had been a part of that.
Harry had been quiet as he walked with him on that thought, and looked around tentatively at the possibility it was some sick joke, before he wrapped his arm through Dudley’s, and he could feel him trembling there. Dudley smiled, taking his hand out of his pocket to hold his hand, and decided they were using some of his birthday money to sneak off for some ice cream.
Their bond had grown from there, and they kept it secret from Dudley’s parents. He started breaking things Harry had eyed at the stores before that he knew his mom got him just to spite the boy, and when it was tossed in the room of previous broken things over the years, he’d sneak back in with Harry in the middle of the night to fix it up. They took over the closet on the far side of the room behind the mountain of broken presents, torn clothes and backpacks, and they played games, from board games to game systems, and more than a few times they’d dozed off there and had to hurry back to their places before the Dursleys were any wiser in the morning.
Eventually he just demanded that Harry be let out of the cupboard to come up to his room and play video games with him. “Mum I’m going to look like an idiot if I invite Piers and can’t beat him! Let me practice with the dweeb!” Then he’d beam at Harry as soon as he closed the door behind him and they’d snuggle in his actual room, Harry hiding his giggles as they feasted on hidden crisps and warm sodas stashed away, while practicing away.
Then he insisted on needing fight gear. He saw on the telly about little ones being able to fight back. “I’ll use Harry as the punching bag when I take out the sand one!” He called out, winking to Harry, who let out a groan, covering his mouth to hide his laugh.
Some work out VHS set with the boxing gear, and both of them could throw a punch.
Harry needed to know he was wanted too. So often he was shoved into a corner and ignored at home he started coming up with games to get them outside with the neighbor kids. Had to sound mean for his parents sake though. “Harry Hunting!” If Harry got caught by him, Piers, or Malcome, then he had to carry all of their bags until they got back to the Dursleys. If he got away for long enough and hid well enough, then they pitched together and all bought ice cream. At the end either way, he’d squeeze his cousin's hand and grin at him widely.
Of all of them, Harry was his best friend, and they were inseparable.
It lasted until Harry was seven and a half, where Aunt Marge had come to visit with her awful dog.
Ripper had torn out a section of Harry’s leg, blood was everywhere, and Petunia was lecturing him about blood on her freshly cleaned wood floors! Dudley angrily scooped up his cousin and ran out of the house, taking him to the hospital while Harry had sobbed into his shoulder from the pain, as they left a trail of blood behind them.
A sobbing, panting pair of seven year olds had set the waiting room into panic, and they were quickly brought back to take care of his wounds. Harry was too scared what would happen if he tattled, so Dudley set his jaw and spoke up. He told them about the dog bite, how his parents had responded, and how Harry had been ignored by his parents for years for too many injuries to count.
Checking his records, they were gobsmacked that Harry didn’t even have basic inoculations. Were his parents trying to let him die from Polio or something? He told them everything he could remember. Maybe they’d talk to his parents, force them to behave with their nephew.
He didn’t expect they’d take him away.
After they stitched him up, and Vernon and Petunia came barreling in, yelling at Harry for leading Dudley astray, red as swollen tomatoes, his mother’s screeching and their tunnel vision on the boy they hadn’t realized there was a social worker in the corner of the room with a clipboard, who had been sorting through her notes of Dudley’s report.
They only realized she was there when Vernon stepped up to roughly grab at Harry’s wrist and half yank him out of the bed, tearing out his iv line, and the social worker had firmly planted himself between them, snatching his wrist off of Harry’s and forcing him back as they called security and had the two escorted out to be put into holding.
The next couple days were a whirlwind.
While they were in holding, they got a warrant to inspect the property, and got Harry and Dudley to come with to explain some things.
They were horrified with the tattered mattress under the stairs with mold growing on the underside of the stairs right over his head, the padlock on the fridge and pantries.
Now his parents were back in the house as the social workers sorted through anything Harry could use, and he was going to be carted off to foster care.
He joined his cousin at the top of the stairs as the workers packed his things, and he held his hand tightly, putting his head on his shoulder. They were both shaking.
Dudey gave him the number for the newest cell phone he’d gotten after Christmas, insisting they had to visit and talk to each other. Harry looked at it as wetness blurred his vision, tucking it in his pocket as delicately as possible.
“Any family would be lucky to have you, Harry. I’m sorry ours has been so rotten.” Dudley whispered as he gripped his cousin in as tight a hug as he could.
“I…thank you for being kind to me Dudley…I..I’m sorry I’ve messed everything up.” Harry choked out, trying not to sob.
Dudley smiled faintly with a sadness to his eyes. “I’ll be alright…staying with Da’s folks can’t be all that bad while they’re answering for things…even they seemed pissed at what Mum and Da did.”
Harry nodded, hugging him tightly. “I’ll write or call you whenever I have a chance Dudley…thank you.” He whispered, then he was guided into the back of the social workers car and carted off for some new journey. He silently pleaded for anyone with just an ounce more of humanity than his blood relatives.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that he spent two months in a foster system that actually didn’t have any more care than the original, but they didn’t care where he went either, and he wasn’t hit.
It was deep into the night, curled up under his bed and whispering to the gentle lights that floated around him that only he seemed to see, this being for the first time in his highly emotional state, that he whispered in a hoarse whisper something that would change his life forever as he stroked the line of light. “I want to be where I belong…I can’t…I can’t do this anymore.” He felt a twist in his gut and his eyes widened as he blinked, and he found himself in an alleyway, lights faintly on the other side of it, and it was sunlight out? He was in his pajamas, no shoes, no jacket, and it was unusually chilly for such a summer day, the smell of the beach on the air. He looked bewildered, hugging his arms close around himself as he slowly started down the sidewalk, lip trembling in panic.
He shuffled through the alleyway, poking his head out and…where in the world?
He was surrounded by neon lights, bright towering billboards, racing cars down the streets, and so…so so so many people.
He slowly shuffled along the side of the sidewalk. To his credit, no one seemed to want to look at the lost kid, so he fancied himself very sneaky, thank you. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying not to stumble as he slowly walked his way down the street.
This…did not feel like it was where he was supposed to be…but, if the energy thought it did…perhaps somewhere here, something was for him.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
“Sir, I have a report on that missing persons case.” Jarvis worded delicately while Tony was in his lab, shaking hands from staying up so long as once more he was trying to improve his arc reactor technology, and his head snapped up from where Rhodey had been talking to him.
“Where is he, Jarvis?” He demanded immediately, jumping to his feet and taking a cloth to his hands to clean up.
“South Bronx, here in New York Sir.”
“He went missing in the U.K., how the hell is he here?” He demanded, quickly getting dressed.
“Tony, who is this about?” Rhodey frowned, seeing the panic in his face, and Tony, rubbing his hands together, got into a drawer, and held out the thick parchment to Rhodey.
“I…found this among the clutter while clearing out earlier this year, we were dealing with Ivan so I couldn’t bring the kid home in the middle of all that, he’d be in so much danger, and it said he was with his aunt and uncle so I thought it could wait, but…” He put on his coat quickly, bringing up the feed Jarvis had found him on while Rhodey caught up on the letter, scanning over it quickly with his eyes widening.
Shit.
The kid looked like hell. Pajamas, with a weak pair of sandals barely holding onto his feet, and a massive jacket on him, one of the homeless probably decided to help him be a bit more covered.
He was so thin, and ran quickly across the road, making himself big enough for cars to not accidentally hit him, and duck enough to avoid anyone trying to grab him.
“I’ll get the car started, something a little more subtle so we don’t paint a target on the kids back as soon as we pick him up.” Rhodey hurried over to the line of cars, picking a black ‘71 Ford Torino, and roared it to life as Tony grabbed a couple pillows and a blanket from his couch, throwing them into the back to make it more comfortable for the kid before he hurried in beside his friend.
They peeled out of the garage quickly, racing down as Tony kept a constant watch on the kids movements. Hacking into mom and pop security systems that weren’t in the grid wasn’t going as he hoped, so he had to watch from a traffic cam that barely poked into the store, as the little boy stood on his tip toes, talking to the cashier about something, before hurrying with a step of excitement to it to go get something. The few seconds he was outside of the feed, Tony felt his stomach turning about what was happening to him, where had he been in the three weeks he’d been missing? Had anyone hurt him?
The South Bronx was not a friendly area, but perhaps a lost boy that their accents couldn’t understand each other clearly. Maybe, just maybe, they would have taken pity on him.
They slowed once they were in the area, Tony tracking the every movement, while tiny Harry appeared back on the screen to wave happily to the store owner, and hug a bag close to his chest, hurrying back out with it and hurrying over to one of the homeless areas, taking out packs of pastries and passing it out to some of them, it didn’t seem to matter if they were younger or older to the boy, any of them he came across he was helping. The bag was almost empty by the time the kid sat on the underside of an overpass, curled up with his knees to his chest.
He had left with a bag full of food, and only allowed himself to keep a half a loaf of pound cake and a Fanta. His eyes weary, head snapping around looking for any odd sounds.
He guided Rhodey to the right area, to park the car in a nearby parking lot by a convenient store, so it was right next door to where the kid was as he hurried to eat. “Should have grabbed him something more at the house to eat.”
“How fast he’s eating, I don’t think he’d be able to keep down more than that, Tones.” Rhodey looked as the boy was watching the other way, his eyes glued to a group of graffiti artists deeper into the elbow of an overpass.
His head snapped around though when he heard their shoes on the gravel rocks approaching, and jumped up, spilling his drink, he cursed a bit under his breath, hurrying to salvage what was left of the drink and shift back quickly.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright kid, we just want to check on you.” Tony put his hands up passively, taking off his sunglasses as he squatted down a bit to not have himself be as intimidating.
Harry flew his eyes up to his face, before his jaw dropped, forgetting about the drink slowly emptying itself onto the gravel. “....Iron Man??”
Tony couldn’t be more thrilled with his decision to go public with his hero side than in this moment. “Yup that’s me kid, this is my friend Rhodey, and you’re Harry, right?” He quirked his lip in a lopsided smile, and Harry stared at him in pure shock, jaw dropping.
“Did the Iron suit give you mind reading powers?!” His eyes sparkled a bit, rocking back on his feet a bit as he, almost in a daze, put the last crumbs of his pound cake back into the bag to waste nothing.
“Not a chance, champ. Turns out I knew your folks though, Lily and James?”
Harry tilted his head a bit, his astonishment sliding away as his eyes teared up a bit, swallowing as he fiddled with the bag. “I…the social worker did say that was my middle name…”
“Harian James…Anthony…. Potter.” Tony smiled, nodding.
“I..yes….that’s what they said it was.” He was clearly confused why the attention was on him, and shifted a bit. “You knew them? But..you’re an American hero?”
Tony laughed softly. “Well one night, your dear old man and lady were my heroes. Can you come back with Rhodes and I, and I’ll tell you all about it?”
Harry hesitated, flicking his eyes back the other way like he was considering still making a run for it, but apparently Tony’s reputation was strong enough in New York for him to loosen up a bit and smile softly, slowly nodding, and Tony smiled, holding his hand out to the boy, who took it.
Ew. Sticky hands. They’d fix that when back home, for now though, the sparkle in the boys eyes and complete acceptance as something shifted when he took his hand had him relaxed enough to the grossness to guide him to the car, and watch the boy fluff up the back seat a bit and strap in, bouncing softly and beaming widely.
Harry kept his eyes on him as Rhodey started the car again, folding his hands into his lap, polite as he could be, and the biggest smile.
If he thought it was just because he was Iron Man, Harry dashed that quickly.
“So you knew my parents? Aunt Petunia said they were drunk idiots, but Dudley says she lies a lot.”
“I only knew them for a few days, but they were responsible for me when I was the drunk one, so no, I don’t think they were drunks. They seemed absolutely brilliant when I got down off of my hangover.”
His face fell, but only a little bit. “Well…can you tell me what you do know about them?” He spoke gently.
“Your mom had the most gorgeous head of fiery red hair, I got a thing for red heads you see.” He winked, getting a light giggle out of the kid. “I was in a dark place, blurring the days together, and there was some meeting or other in London, I think it was a green energy thing. I had been absolutely bored with all of it! So I partied very hard afterwards, going to a local pub I bought drinks for everyone so they’d all be sloshed with me. No fun drinking alone right? Well…I blurred from one bar to the next, to a club, to a backroom and got into stuff I should have never touched. Someone saw how much fun I was having though and I think they were trying to take me away. But your mom caught them trying to drug my drink an-”
“Tony!”
“What?”
“He’s seven for crying out loud, you got to tell him all the details??”
“Oh come on, he was in the Bronx!”
Harry nodded, eyes bright and locked in on him. “Someone tried to trap you in their basement, what happened next?”
Tony snorted at Rhodey’s eyes widening in shock. “Well, I’m looking the other way, then suddenly WHAM!” He smacked his fist against his hand loudly, kid jumping a bit. “This fiery red head is swinging! She busted the jaw of the guy behind me as what he was trying to put in my drink spilled all over himself, as well as the rest of my drink.” Harry beamed brightly, leaning forward against the seatbelt, gripping onto it in awe as Rhodey shook his head, weaving them back out of the Bronx.
“They figured I was way too wasted, and guided me up to a room. I thought we were up for some shenanigans, but I passed out soon as they got me into the shower, clothes and all.” Harry giggled a bit, clearing thinking it quite odd to shower with clothes on.
“Next thing I know, I’m wrapped up in the softest blanket burrito ever, while the two love birds had left me on the bed and they were curled up on the couch. I’d barely noticed James before, what with such a gorgeous redhead the night before right in front of me, but he had darker skin, dark curled locks against his head, and warm eyes. He was stout, built thick like he was an officer or firefighter, wasn’t sure which.” He nodded thoughtfully. “He looked just as pretty as your mom, curled up against her, and they were so blissfully happy, snuggled up, faces set without a worry in the world… I wanted to be a part of that. For three glorious days, I was. We rode around the streets, blasting our music, singing in the parks, talking like teenagers about ‘Rebelling against the man’, and I was… kind of like a boyfriend to the both of them for those three days.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “My Mum and Da dated Iron Man?!”
“Back then I was only Tony Stark, kid.” He chuckled, smiled faded. “I’m sorry I didn’t know about you sooner, Harry… your…James sent me a letter, probably when I was in the middle of being a complete mess and…I didn’t find it among my paperwork until recently, and I had a big fight with someone our dads got into a fight back in the day that I didn’t want to drag you in the middle of… but… you should have never ended up homeless, in the foster system, or even with your Aunt and Uncle…I should have found this years ago.” He spoke softly, as Harry slowly read over the aged parchment, tracing his fingers along it. He had read it so many times while searching for Harry, and he knew Rhodey had parts of it probably in his head as well.
Hey, Anthony!
It’s been some time since we’ve seen you, but we’ve had our hands full with a new little one! Congrats, it’s a boy!
He is such a little cutie, he races around like a natural, we should have known right away that he was yours with the way you drive. We had to wait until his hair grew in though and it came out in your wild style neither Lily or my Family has. When he cackles, you can just feel your heart melt, he is just so bright and full of wonder. He’s probably going to be a natural inventor, the way he tears apart any of the muggle plastic toys and looks at their insides. It’s a bit how you looked while checking under the hood of the convertible.
He’s got your hair and sharp jaw, easily, hard to tell about his cheekbones under all his cute pudginess, but he’s got Lily’s eyes.
We understand if you rather leave things as they were, we had a wonderful weekend with you, passionate and wild. A kid may be the opposite of what you’re looking for, but if you would like, we would love for you to be in his life, and figure out what all we should do about custody going forward. We love every moment with our sweet Hadrian, but we would never stop a father from seeing his son.
We hope to hear from you, but if things are too hectic right now, we completely understand. Our door will always be open for you.
From,
Lily and James Potter (And Harry)
Tucked into it was a picture of a baby, looking like he was squealing in laughter as he was racing at the camera, mouth wide open like he was going to eat it in one swoop.
Harry blinked as he realized it must be him, smiling a bit, seeing the legs of someone in a skirt in the background, as it must be his mum.
He blinked more, reading it over again.
…
…..
……
“IRON MAN IS MY DA?!”
Rhodey busted out laughing. “We’re going to do a DNA test to be sure, but either way, I think Tones is taking you in, kid. You’re stuck with an idiot in a supersuit I’m afraid.”
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