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Chapter Text

The war had been bigger than anyone realized.  

At first, Voldemort had been a British problem. A dark wizard terrorizing a single country. But power—true power—was never so easily contained.  

As the war in Britain escalated, dark forces across the world had begun rising in Voldemort’s shadow. Death Eater cells formed in Europe, Asia, and the Americas, all waiting for their chance to strike. The Statute of Secrecy had kept most of it hidden, but the entire world had been at risk.  And when Harry Potter finally ended it,.He hadn’t just saved Britain.

He had saved the world.

By fifteen, Harry Potter was more than just The Boy Who Lived.  

He was Lord Potter, Lord Black, Lord Peverell, and Lord Gryffindor. He was a war hero, a knight- personally knighted by the queen, a commander. Some whispered he was the second coming of Merlin.Others feared him as a kingmaker, a man whose influence had reshaped magical governments across the globe.  

But Harry didn’t care about any of that.  

What mattered was rebuilding.  

For a year after Voldemort’s fall, Harry had dedicated himself to cleaning up the mess. The British Ministry was a disaster—corrupt officials scrambling for power, old laws designed to suppress Muggleborns still in place, Death Eater sympathizers trying to weasel their way back into society.  

Harry had burned it all down.  

With the help of Hermione, Neville, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy( he's still a prick– but they became colleagues of a sort , dare say friends)and other like-minded witches and wizards, he had torn through the old guard. Laws were rewritten. Corruption was rooted out. Magical Britain was forced—kicking and screaming—into a new age.  

But power had its price. Harry is TIRED DAMNIT.

By sixteen, Harry was an enigma. He appeared when necessary—at Ministry meetings, international summits, or as a consultant for the Aurors. Otherwise, he disappeared from public life.  

Rumors swirled. ( OFCOURSE!!! *Scoffs*)

Some believed he had ascended into some higher magical existence. (Ha!!)

Others thought he had left Earth entirely.

(Harry: It's actually a good idea,can we do it Her—

Hermione: NO!!!)

The truth?  

He was raising a child.  

Teddy Lupin was only a 2 year baby when the war ended, orphaned before he could even say his parents’ names. 

Harry helped raising him from a baby with Andy but she soon died of grief.

Harry refused to let him grow up alone.  

By magical law, Harry would have been too young to formally adopt him, but at sixteen—and as a noble lord—he had every right to take Teddy in as his own. Afterall He became emancipated as soon as he turned 13 to protect himself from those who wanted to use him.

Teddy was his son. And so, when Harry had finally set everything in order, when Britain no longer needed him…

(There were objections but he has long learnt to ignore them.)

He left. He took Teddy and moved across the ocean, settling in New York, America.  

New York was different from Britain.  

The magical world here was stricter, more hidden, woven carefully around the edges of a city that never slept.MACUSA enforced the Statute of Secrecy with ruthless precision, and unlike the old families of Europe, American wizards long had learned how to blend in with Muggle society.  

It was the perfect place for Harry to disappear and raise his son.

But just because he was out of the spotlight didn’t mean he was idle.  

Even before leaving Britain, Harry had already completed his magical education along on the side. But unlike most wizards who stopped at standard NEWTs, Harry had pursued Masteries in multiple subjects.  

By the time he turned sixteen, he had officially earned Masteries in:  

- Healing (he didn't want be helpless again)

- Runes (it's like coding which he loved before magic came into his life)

- Defense Against the Dark Arts (he doesn't want to die, thank you very much.)

- Charms ( his mom's expertise so he might as well learn it.)

- Transfiguration (for his dad)

- Care of Magical Creatures ( the three headed dog, basilisk thought him a lesson to be careful enough to atleast know about magical creatures)

-Potions (useful even if he has love–hate relationship with snape)

- Magical Law ( he just didn't want to be a pawn to those who wanted to use him.)

His magical expertise was unmatched for his age, and even among older wizards, few could rival him. Over the years the countless nights he spent learning from the moment he realised that the magic world is not so safe, to both protect himself and his loved ones made sure of it.

(Thank goodness he inherited his father's intellect and not his playboy tendencies.)

But there was one area he had neglected —Muggle education.  

Harry had grown up in the Dursleys’ home, attending regular school as a child, but his academic studies had ended the moment he entered Hogwarts.  

He was years behind in subjects like mathematics, science, and modern technology.  

So, in his free time, Harry dedicated himself to catching up.  He read textbooks, studied history, learned about current politics and economics. He refused to be ignorant of the world he now lived in.  

One day, Teddy would grow up in both the magical and Muggle worlds. And Harry refused to be unprepared for that.  

The no-maj world knew of Lord Peverell.

They heard of his deeds—charities, orphanages, disaster relief, international accords. World leaders spoke of him with reverence and caution. But none of the outside world had ever seen him.  

And that was how Harry wanted it.  

The Potter townhouse in Queens was a safe haven.From the outside, it was an ordinary brick home, blending perfectly into the neighborhood. To the magical eye, it was a fortress—protected by the strongest wards and concealments magic could offer.  It was perfect.  

Here, Harry was just Harry Evans, a quiet young man raising a three-year-old.No press. No expectations. No politics. Just peace.

(But peace never lasted.)

Because across the city, a fifteen-year-old named Peter Parker was swinging between buildings, fighting crime, and getting himself into far too much danger.

Harry had lived in many places: a cupboard, a castle, a tent. This was different. The townhouse in Queens wasn't large or extravagant, but it was perfect. A quiet neighborhood, a decent-sized backyard, a place where no one knew him. To the outside world, he was just Harry Evans, a young consultant for law enforcement—a job he'd created to protect Teddy in the Muggle world. He got a lot of weird looks for it, but he ignored them with practiced ease.

This was exactly how he wanted it.

Because after everything—after wars, politics, and being the center of global attention—Harry wanted a normal life. Or, at least, as normal as it could get.

Then he found out about Peter Parker. And things became a little more complicated.

Harry wasn’t ignorant. He'd spent years operating in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. So the moment he moved in, he researched his surroundings. That’s when he discovered Spider-Man.

A teenager with enhanced abilities, swinging around Queens, trying to be a hero?

It wasn’t his business.

Then Harry saw the patterns. Peter was young. Reckless. Inexperienced. And worst of all? He reminded Harry of himself. A boy who wanted to do the right thing no matter the cost, who would throw himself into danger without hesitation, who was too young to bear that weight.

And Harry couldn't just ignore that. He would step in when the time came.

He had just picked up Teddy from daycare and was juggling a bag of groceries while the three-year-old excitedly babbled about his day. Then someone crashed into him.

“Oh—uh—sorry about that!”

Harry steadied them both. He looked up. Peter Parker. Harry sighed internally. Of course.

Peter blinked. “Hey! You’re new, right?”

Harry raised an eyebrow as if to say, Is it that obvious?

Peter shrugged. “Queens isn’t that big.” His eyes flickered to Teddy, who was staring intently.

Teddy giggles. “You are a clutz.”

Peter blinked and blushed slightly before laughing. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”  

Harry smiles. He reminds me of a puppy.  

Peter hesitated, then nodded toward Teddy. “Your little brother?”  

Harry paused for half a second before replying. “My son.”  

Peter’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh. Cool.”  

Teddy beamed. “I know.”  

Peter grinned, clearly entertained. “Well—uh, welcome to Queens, I guess.”  

Harry smirked. “Thanks.”  

Peter hesitated, looking like he wanted to ask something, but a voice called from across the store.  

“Parker! Get moving!”  

Peter winced. “Right—uh, see you around?”    

“Yeah,” Harry said. “See you around.”  

Peter grinned, then jogged off.  

As they continued shopping, Teddy tugged on Harry’s sleeve. “Is Peter our friend now?”  

Harry smiled. “We’ll see, Teddy. We’ll see.”

___________________________________________

It didn’t take long for Peter to notice him. Harry was, after all, hard to ignore. A sixteen-year-old single father, raising a toddler while working as a consultant? People talked. Peter was curious. It happened at the local café, where Teddy had decided to make friends.

Peter had been sitting alone, reading over his school notes, when a small, giggling child ran up to him.

Teddy beamed. “Hi!”

Peter blinked. “…Hey?”

Teddy tugged at Harry’s sleeve. “Can I stay?”

Harry hummed and nodded toward Peter. “That depends.”

Teddy turned to Peter with wide, hopeful eyes. “Can I?”

Peter, despite himself, grinned.

“…Sure.”

A friendship began. After their first meeting, Peter Parker became a constant presence in Harry’s life. It wasn't like Peter was seeking him out; Teddy had simply taken a liking to him. That meant Peter was stuck with them. Not that he seemed to mind.

Harry was… interesting. A sixteen-year-old raising a three-year-old while working a real job? That wasn’t normal. And yet, somehow, Harry made it seem effortless. Peter wasn’t sure how, but the guy was calm, collected, and way too competent. It was intimidating.

And for some reason, Peter wanted to impress him. Which was ridiculous. Because Harry wasn’t his teacher or mentor or anything. Just a guy in the neighborhood.

…Right?

Peter had mentioned, offhandedly, that he wanted to get better at self-defense. (He really wanted to know how to fight, but couldn't say the real reason, so self-defense it was.)

Harry had tilted his head. Then he had asked, “Do you want help with that?”

Peter hesitated. “You know self-defense?”

Harry’s lips had curled slightly. “A little.” 

(Draco: *rolls eyes* a little he says.)

That was how it started. Because Peter was too curious for his own good. Because Harry, despite being calm and friendly, had a sharp edge underneath. And because Peter—without realizing it—had been looking for guidance. Harry, for his part, had already decided to help him. Even if Peter didn’t know it yet.

“Again.”

Peter groaned, rolling onto his back. “I hate this.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Then stop getting hit.”

Peter glared. “That’s your fault!”

Harry just smirked. They were training in Harry’s backyard, an enclosed space shielded from view where no one could see Peter get absolutely wrecked.

At first, Peter had thought this would be easy. After all, he had enhanced strength and speed. How hard could it be?

Answer: Very.

Because Harry didn’t fight like a normal person. He was fast. Precise. Unpredictable. He didn’t waste a single movement. And worst of all, Peter had the distinct feeling that Harry was holding back.

“…Dude.” Peter sat up, breathless. “How the hell are you this fast?”

Harry just tilted his head and smirked. “Practice.”

Peter huffed. But even as he complained, he adjusted his stance, ready to try again.

Harry was impressed. Peter was learning and quick on the uptake. Harry didn’t just want Peter to be a good fighter; he wanted him to be a survivor. Every block, every parry, every lesson was a desperate hope, a silent plea to the universe.

Don’t let him drown as a hero. Don’t let him lose everything. Just… let him always come back home.

Chapter Text

May Parker first heard about Harry Evans from the neighbors.  

“A sixteen-year-old raising a child?” Mrs. Rodriguez had said, shaking her head. “Poor boy. He’s an orphan to, you know. No family left.”  

That had caught May’s attention.  

No family?  

“ He’s raising a kid alone?” she had asked.  

“Yeah,” Mr. Lee from the corner store had chimed in. “I asked once if he had anyone around—extended family, older relatives—but he just smiled and said, It’s just me and Teddy.”  

A teenager, completely alone, choosing to take care of a child.  And from what she heard, he was handling it well.  

“He’s got this… I don’t know, calm and mature aura about him,” Mr. Lee had continued. “Like, nothing shakes him. And that little boy? Happy as he can be. It's unbelievable until you see it.”  

May had found it impressive. But it wasn’t until Peter started talking about him that she realized just how important Harry had become to her nephew.   

Apparently this Harry kid started teaching Peter self defence.

“Harry says dodging is just as important as landing a hit.”  

“Harry made Teddy laugh so hard, it was adorable —May!, you should’ve seen it!”  

It turned into full-on admiration.  

“Harry’s the coolest. He’s only sixteen and basically a martial arts master. At least I think he is because he explains it so well!!”  

“He never brags about it, but he knows everything about fighting. Like, real strategy. Not just ‘punch bad guys and hope for the best.’”  

“He’s freakishly smart. Like, not normal smart. He says he didn’t go to a regular school, but he studies all the time. I think he knows more than my teachers by now.”  

May had raised an eyebrow at that.

Peter continued, oblivious.  

“Oh, and he never ignores me. Like, I can ask him literally anything, and he actually listens. And if I mess up? He doesn’t yell, he just... explains what I did wrong and how to fix it. Like a real mentor.”  

Or brother. He doesn't say that.May had noticed it wasn’t just Harry’s skills Peter admired.  It was who he was. 

And then came the part that really struck her.  

“Harry’s raising a kid, May,” Peter had said one night after dinner. “And he’s so good at it. He’s patient. He actually listens to Teddy, like he’s important. You should see them together—it’s like Teddy’s the most precious thing in the world to him.”  

Peter had sounded almost… envious.  

And that had settled it. She needed to meet this kid.  

But one thing had confused her.  Peter had never been interested in self-defense before.  

And now, suddenly, he was obsessed with it.  

It wasn’t like she didn’t want him to learn—knowing how to protect himself was a good thing—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about it.  

She's got a gut feeling something is off.

She had asked one evening, arms crossed. “You’re telling me some random kid you just met is giving you free self-defense lessons?”  

Peter had nodded eagerly. “Yeah! He’s awesome at it, May.”  

“That’s not the point.” May frowned. “Why is he doing it for free?”  

Peter had blinked. “Uh… because he’s nice?”  

May had given him a look.  

Peter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I may have casually mentioned once that it would be nice to learn self defence and he offered to teach me. That was it.”  

May narrowed her eyes. “And since when do you care about learning how to fight?”  

Peter hesitated. “I mean, you always tell me it’s good to know self-defense, right?”

May crossed her arms. “Peter. You’re my nephew. I know you. You’ve never cared about this stuff before. What changed?”  

Peter shifted uncomfortably.  

May waited.  

Finally, Peter muttered, “I just… want to be stronger. I just don't want to be helpless anymore.”  There was something heavy in those words.  

May softened immediately.  

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Pete… if something’s going on, you know you can tell me, right?”  

Peter nodded quickly. “I know! I just… I just want to learn. That’s all.”  

May studied him for a long moment, but in the end, she let it go.  For now.  

But she made a mental note—when she met Harry, she was definitely going to ask him about this.  

The opportunity came one evening at dinner.  

Peter was rambling about training again—how Harry had flipped him onto his back five times in a row, how he was too cool for words.  

May let him talk for a while, then casually asked, “So when do I get to meet this awesome big brother of yours?”  

Peter choked on his drink.“Wha—meet him?”  

May raised an eyebrow. “Peter, you never stop talking about this kid. It's been months and you literally worship the ground he walks on.”  

“I do not—”  “Sweetheart, you do"

Peter groaned, sinking into his chair. “Fine. But why do you want to meet him?”

May tilted her head.

“Because you spend half your free time at his house. Because he’s teaching you how to fight. Because he’s a sixteen-year-old raising a child, and I’d like to make sure you’re not overwhelming him with your endless energy.”

Peter frowned. “I’m not overwhelming—”

“You’re talking about him right now,” May pointed out, smirking.

Peter pouted.

May smiled, then softened. “Look, Pete. I’m glad you have someone to look up to. I just want to meet him and his son. You clearly adore them.”

Peter hesitated, then sighed.“Okay, okay. I’ll text him.”

Harry agreed easily.

He invited them over for dinner, saying Teddy would love to meet Peter’s aunt.

So, a few days later, May Parker found herself standing in front of a modest townhouse, curiosity thrumming in her veins.

Peter bounced on his heels, clearly excited but nervous.

She had questions.Why was Harry teaching Peter for free? Why did Peter suddenly want to learn self-defense?

But most of all…She wanted to know about Harry Evans?

And why did Peter trust him so much?

May Parker had been expecting someone mature beyond his years.

After all, Peter wouldn’t stop talking about how calm, responsible, and wise Harry was. The neighbors had painted him as capable, independent, and focused on raising his son.

But what she hadn’t expected was how… normal Harry Evans appeared when he opened the door.

Sure, he carried himself with an ease that didn’t match his age, but when he smirked at Peter and said, “Teddy, I think Peter’s trying to impress us with his fancy clothes,” it was so dryly teasing that Peter groaned immediately.

“I hate you.”

Harry’s smirk widened. “I know.”

May bit back a laugh.

Oh. She liked him already.

Teddy Evans was adorable.

Dark black hair, wide green eyes, and a ridiculous amount of energy.

He declared, arms spread wide. “Welome to our home!”

May grinned. “Why, thank you, sir.”

Teddy beamed, then dramatically whispered behind his hand, “I paciced tha all mon-ing.” { I Practiced that all morning}

May chuckled. “You nailed it.”

Harry, standing behind him, shook his head fondly. “Come in before Teddy starts reciting Shakespeare.”

May stepped inside, taking in the space.

It was a bit spacious but warm and cosy, decorated in a way that made it clear a young child lived here. Crayons on the table, a few scattered toys near the couch, and a handmade sign taped to the wall that read: WELCOME ANT MAY (with the “U” clearly smudged out).

She smiled. It felt like a comfortable home.

And despite everything she’d heard about Harry being a sixteen-year-old raising a child alone, there was nothing about this place that felt chaotic or unbalanced.

If anything, it was… peaceful. That alone told her a lot.

Dinner was shockingly normal.

Teddy talked the most, filling the conversation with random stories about his daycare, how he was “learning to be a ninja” from Peter, and how Harry made the best pancakes in the world, no contest.

Peter complained loudly. “Excuse you, I made you pancakes once!”

Teddy patted his hand sympathetically. “They wer goo, Petey. But Daddy’s are bete.”{They were good Petey but Daddy's are better}

Peter made a wounded noise.

Harry smirked. “You’ll recover.”

May, watching all this, realized something.

Peter was part of their routine.

Harry—who had no family—had somehow ended up with her nephew who he treats as his honorary sibling.

It was… kind of sweet.

“So, Harry,” May said casually, after Teddy had gotten distracted with his mashed potatoes. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “All good things, I hope.”

Peter immediately groaned. “Why would you say that?! Now she’s gonna tell embarrassing stories.”

May grinned. “Oh, you mean like how you went on a ten-minute rant about how ‘Harry’s footwork is like magic and he barely even moves, it’s like he’s predicting everything before it happens—’”

Peter whined loudly. “I hate you.”

Harry chuckled, amused. “I mean, I do have excellent footwork and Peter’s got potential. He just needs to stop throwing himself into attacks like an idiot.”

Peter looked betrayed. “I am sitting right here.”

May laughed, then leaned back slightly, watching Harry closely. “But seriously. You’re training him for free. Why?”

Harry’s expression didn’t change. “Because he asked.”

May raised an eyebrow. “That simple?”

Harry tilted his head, considering her thought process, Then he sighed. “Yes but..Alright. It’s also because he reminds me of me.”

May blinked.

That… wasn’t what she expected.

Peter perked up, suddenly paying close attention. “Wait… seriously?”

Harry smirked. “Yes, Peter. I was also an overly energetic child with terrible impulse control.” well energetic when pranking and terrible impulse control when it comes to his 'saving people thing'.

Peter gasped. “Oh my God, I knew it. And I don't have terrible impulse control!!”

May chuckled but kept her gaze on Harry. “But you’re not exactly a trained instructor. Where did you learn all this?”

Harry was silent for half a second before answering, “I have.....a bit of experience and while  I'm not a trained instructor, I have training in self defence. Otherwise, I wouldn't be qualified for my job.”

She smiled softly quelling her urge to question. “Well, I appreciate you looking out for Peter.”

Harry met her gaze and gave a breathtaking smile. “I like him.”

Peter grinned. “I am pretty awesome.”

Teddy giggled. “You’re okay.”

Peter blushes.

Harry and May laughed.

By the end of dinner, May had learned a lot.

Harry was clearly intelligent—he carried himself like someone who had seen way too much for his age but had learned how to keep it from consuming him. He was patient and steady, especially with Teddy.

And Peter was learning how to think and plan.

Harry genuinely cared about him.

When they were leaving, Teddy hugged Peter tightly. “Come back soon, Big Bothr Petey!”

Peter grinned, ruffling his hair. “Obviously.”

Then, to May’s surprise, Teddy turned and hugged her too.

She blinked, then smiled, ruffling his black hair. “See you later, kiddo.”

Then she turned to Harry, who was watching with that same unreadable expression.

She hesitated. Then she said, “You’re doing a good job, you know.”

Harry blinked once. “What?”

“With Teddy,” she clarified. “With… everything. You’re doing a good job.”

For the first time, Harry looked genuinely taken aback then gave one of his breathtaking smiles.He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Thanks.”

May left with Peter, feeling a lot better about this whole thing than she ever expected.

___________________________________________

May Parker had never been one to let things go.  

If something didn’t make sense, she asked questions. If she didn’t like the answers, she kept asking. And right now, Harry Evans didn’t make sense.  

So she was going to do what she had to do.  Dig.

Peter had too much faith in Harry to question anything, and while May was happy he had someone to look up to, she wasn’t about to let him get attached to someone with a past he didn’t even understand.  

She needed answers.  

And the first step is spending more time around Harry and Teddy. Which, conveniently, was easy—because Teddy had already decided she was family. 

“Teddy, sweetheart,” May said one afternoon as the little boy happily swung his legs at the kitchen table. “Tell me about your dad.”  

Teddy lit up instantly.  

“Daddy is the best,” he declared. “He can do eveythin!”  {everything}

May chuckled. “Oh yeah?”  

Teddy nodded so fast his turquoise curls bounced. “Daddy coos eally goo foo! nd he ells the bes sores. nd he nos ow to o all the coo fihing suff —he’s, lie, a suer nin-ja!” 

{Daddy coos really good food! And he tells the best stories. And he knows how to do all the cool fighting stuff —he’s, like, a super ninja!}

May raised an eyebrow, amused. “A super ninja?”  

Teddy gasped. “No! A suer secet aent nin-ja!” {No! A super secret agent ninja} 

May bit back a laugh. “Wow. Sounds impressive.”  

Teddy beamed. “He is! And he never gets mad. He just knows things. Like when I have bad dreams, he always wakes up before I even call him! And when I’m sad, he always knows.” 

{A/N :  imagine his lipsing}

May paused.  

That… was oddly specific.  

“And he’s always there,” Teddy added proudly. “He promised. And Dad never breaks promises.”

May smiled softly.  But it still didn’t explain anything.  

Harry was cleaning up dishes, rolling his sleeves up as he wiped down the counters. He didn’t even look up as he said, “You’re about to interrogate me, aren’t you?”  

May paused mid-sip of her coffee.  

“…What?”  

Harry finally turned, giving her a knowing smirk. “You’ve been watching me all afternoon. Teddy’s easy to distract, You want answers.”  

May narrowed her eyes. “You really observant.”  

Harry chuckled. “I try.”  

May crossed her arms. “Alright, since you’re expecting it—how does a sixteen-year-old orphan raise a child, cook, teach self defence to another teenager, work as a consultant to law enforcement whatever that means?”  

Harry didn’t answer right away. he sighed.  

“What do you know?” he asked.  

May raised an eyebrow. “I know what the neighbors know. But I don’t know if I believe it.”  

“Well, let’s see what you think after I tell you,” he said.  

Then, calmly, he gave her the official excuse he used for Muggles.    

“My parents died when I was a baby,” Harry said, voice even. “I was sent to live with my only remaining family—my aunt and uncle.”  

May felt her stomach tighten.  

Something about the way he said that felt too detached.  

Harry continued. “They… weren’t kind. I did all the housework, all the cooking. If something went wrong, it was always my fault. I was never part of the family. They demanded perfection, if a single thing felt off, if the food I cooked wasn't up to the mark —I was punished”.

May gripped  her coffee cup tighter.  

Peter didn’t know about this.Harry had been neglected, worse by the sound of it, by his own relatives. And now he was raising a child, No wonder he was so determined to do everything right.  

Harry continued, voice calm like he was reciting facts instead of talking about his childhood.  

“I finally got out when I was eleven. I was accepted into a prestigious boarding school. It was invite only school where children of many lords, talents and many other important people  go to. Thought things would get better.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “I was wrong.”  

May stayed silent, waiting.  

“When I was 14, the school was attacked by a terrorist group” Harry said smoothly. 

May immediately tensed.  

“They were extremists,” he continued, tone casual but too controlled, like he’d told this story before. “They targeted students, took control of the school, we were caught in a conflict no one outside even realized was happening because it's secluded to give maximum protection to children which backfired in this case.”  

May stared at him, suddenly horrified.  

“And afterward?” she prompted.  

"British Intelligence and military finally got involved,” Harry said easily. “Since my school wasn’t officially recognized in normal records to protect data of the children from outside, it was easy to keep things quiet. After… everything, they recruited me as an informant. I don’t work for them, but I help with intelligence where I could.”

May had no idea if this was true, but she heard of the terrorists that terrorised Britain in the news a while back.

It explained why, why he knew self-defense and, why he was always so in control.

But something still didn’t add up.

May tapped her fingers against the table. “So you were a child soldier? How did they allow it.”

He simply said, "Their hands were tied as they had the entire school as hostage and we had no other choice if we had to survive. The authority could not take action against the terrorists even when they were caught due to the hostage situation as the terrorists just asked for their release if they didn't want any innocent deaths.”

May’s stomach twisted.

Peter thought Harry was just some cool, talented guy. He had no idea that his mentor/brother had spent his childhood fighting terrorists.

No wonder Harry had taken Peter under his wing.

He saw himself in Peter.That scared her. A Mother’s Instinct.

She exhaled. “Why are you telling me this?” Because this sounds like, while generic, confidential information —considering it's not in the news.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Would you believe me if I said I trust you?” 

“…No.”

Harry laughed quietly. “Fair enough.”

Then his face turned serious. “I’m telling you because you’re important to Peter. I don’t want you to think I have some hidden agenda. He’s a good kid. He deserves to be taught properly and how to protect himself.”

May thought about Teddy. She thought about how soft Harry’s voice got when he spoke to him. About the way Teddy never doubted, not even for a second, that his father would always be there.

Harry had been a child soldier.But he wasn’t raising one. And that, more than anything, made her believe him.

Now May really understood him. Somewhat.

Before, May had simply thought of Harry Evans as the responsible kid raising a child too young. 

Now, she couldn’t look at him the same way.  

Knowing his past– his childhood of housework and survival, and the way he had worked with MI6 afterward—made every little thing he did stand out differently.  

Before, she had thought he was just naturally mature since he was an orphan.  Now she saw it for what it was.  A kid who had been forced to grow up too fast. And Peter still had no idea.  

She didn’t change anything about how she acted, but she paid attention.  

It told her everything she needed to know.  

May didn’t know much about combat training, but she knew how to read people. And she knew a bit of self defence herself. Ben was adamant that she learn how to protect herself.

But now, May watched Harry interact with Peter, knowing what he had been through, and she realized something—  

“Okay, Parker,” Harry said, smirking as he stood across from Peter in the training space. “What’s the rule?”  

Peter groaned, shifting into a stance. “Think before I move.”  

Harry tilted his head. “And?”  

Peter sighed. “And don’t just dodge—control where my opponent goes.”  

Harry nodded approvingly. “Good. Now try again.”  

Peter launched himself forward, throwing a punch.  

Harry sidestepped at the last possible second, making Peter overextend just slightly—enough to throw off his balance.  

Then, with infuriating ease, he grabbed Peter’s wrist, twisted, and flipped him onto the mat.  

Again.  

Peter let out a pained groan.  

“I hate you.”  

“You love me,” Harry corrected, offering him a hand.  

Peter grumbled but took it anyway.  

Harry was teaching Peter how to control a fight before it even started.  

And Peter—oblivious, eager, and completely trusting—was eating up every word.  

May didn’t know what to think about that.  

He was training Peter to survive.

Question is survive from what? 

For all the ruthless efficiency in training, there were also moments that were…  

Ridiculously normal.  

And Peter loved every second of it.  

Teasing and Bickering  

“Move your feet, Parker,” Harry instructed as Peter attempted another set of drills.  

Peter huffed, shifting his stance. “I am moving them!”  

Harry tilted his head. “Are you?”  

Peter scowled. “What does that even mean?”  

“Exactly what I said.”  

May watched as Peter groaned loudly before lunging again. Harry sidestepped like it was nothing, reached out, and flicked Peter’s forehead mid-motion—just enough to throw him off balance.  

Peter tripped. Harry smirked.  

Peter, sprawled on the mat, pointed accusingly. “That was unnecessary”  

Harry shrugged innocently. “It was effective.”  

“I hate you.”  

“You say that a lot,” Harry mused. “Yet here you are.”  

May bit back a laugh. Because Peter was having fun.  

Harry  was messing with him, poking fun, and giving him hell the way an older brother would.  

And Peter, despite all his complaints, was loving it.

Peter huffed loudly, dramatically flopping onto the couch.  

“I am starving.”  

Harry, sitting beside him, raised an eyebrow. “Then go make something.”  

Peter groaned. “But that takes effort.”  

Harry smirked, holding up a sandwich. “Good thing I made myself one, then.”  

Peter eyed it suspiciously. “...You wouldn’t happen to want to share, would you?”  

“Nope.”  

Peter sighed. “That’s fair.”  

Then, without warning, he lunged for the sandwich.  

Harry, tilted it out of reach, causing Peter to nearly face-plant onto the couch.  

Teddy giggled from across the room.  

Peter gasped dramatically. “How dare you.”  

Harry took a slow, deliberate bite of his sandwich. 

Peter narrowed his eyes. “This is an act of war.”  

Harry, completely calm,kept chewing. “You don’t want this fight, Parker.”  

Peter grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him. 

It hit Harry directly in the face.  

Teddy burst into laughter and clapped.

And May, watching from the kitchen, couldn’t stop smiling.  

Peter showed up at Harry’s place more and more.  

He’d drop by after school, collapse onto the couch, and complain about homework while Harry sat beside him, silently reading.

Or he’d play video games with Teddy— the kiddie safe ones, laughing as the little boy cheated outrageously.  

Or he’d rant about school, grumbling about annoying teachers, while Harry listened with amused patience. 

Peter hadn’t had an older sibling before.    

That’s exactly what he had now.  

And Harry—For all his smirks and teasing— liked it too.

May can see all that.

Harry was actively making sure that Teddy had everything he never did. And Teddy knew it.  (Somehow that genius toddler is much more intelligent than most pre teens)

One evening, when May was helping Teddy put away his toys, she had asked, “Teddy, what’s your favorite thing about your dad?”  

Teddy tilted his head, thinking.  

Then he said, very seriously, “He’s always there.”  

May’s breath caught slightly. To Teddy, the most important thing in the world was the fact that Harry was always there when he needed him.  

Harry had grown up without that.So now, he was making sure Teddy never had to feel alone.  

Harry wasn’t just responsible because he had to be. He wasn’t just good at housework and cooking because he had been forced to do it. Even though it had come from trauma, survival, and years of fighting, he had turned it into something positive.  

That was rare.Harry had given Peter guidance, protection, and a brotherly bond.  He had given Teddy security, warmth, and a father’s love.  

It was time someone gave Harry something.  

And May Parker was going to make sure that he had a family too. 

It took Peter an embarrassingly long time to realize what Harry was trying to get him to do.

At first, he just kept dodging like normal. But Harry was relentless.

He didn’t give Peter time to reset.He kept up the pressure, constantly moving, constantly attacking, forcing Peter to react over and over again.And Peter finally understood the problem.

He wasn’t controlling the fight.Harry was.Peter was just running away, avoiding getting hit but never turning the fight to his advantage.

So he started thinking.Where does he want Harry to move?He feinted left, saw Harry adjust—

There.

The next dodge, he moved just slightly differently—guiding Harry into a position where he had limited movement options.Then—when Harry attacked again—Peter used his own momentum to force him sideways.

And for the first time—

Harry had to adjust at the last second. Peter saw the flicker of approval in his expression before he flipped Peter onto his back again.

Peter groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Harry smirked. “That was better.”

Peter squinted at him. “I feel like you let me have that one.”

Harry didn’t confirm or deny.

Peter groaned again.

Harry just smirked and took another sip of water.

Peter flopped onto the ground, groaning. “I hate you.

Peter grumbled unintelligibly.

Peter wasn’t stupid.

He knew that Harry didn’t just know these things for no reason.He knew Harry had experience, had seen and done things most people never would.

For now, he was just grateful to have him as a teacher. Because for the first time, Peter was learning how to really fight.

And whether Harry knew it or not…

Peter was going to use everything he learned to keep people safe. 

(Just like Harry did-Even if Peter didn't know it.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

By this point, Harry should’ve seen it coming. Ned was already a fixture in their lives. If he wasn’t at school or at home, he was either at Peter’s apartment or here, sprawled out on Harry’s couch, eating his snacks, and playing video games with Teddy. Teddy, of course, had decided weeks ago that Ned was his second big brother. Harry didn’t argue. Because, somehow, along the way, he’d started taking care of Ned too.

Harry had met Ned’s parents exactly once. It happened after Ned had stayed at Harry’s house too late one night, and Harry insisted on walking him home. When they got there, Ned’s mom had looked Harry up and down, pursed her lips, and said, “So you’re the one keeping my son out all night.”

Harry, completely unbothered, had responded, “Ma’am, if I wanted to get rid of him, I’d have dropped him off hours ago.”

Ned’s dad had burst out laughing. Ned’s mom, despite herself, cracked a smile.

A few days later, Ned nearly had a heart attack.

Because Harry casually pulled out a second key and handed it to him. Ned froze. Peter, sitting next to him, choked on his drink. 

Ned gaped at the key. “Wait. Wait. WAIT. Are you serious?!”

Harry grinned. “No, I’m pranking you.”

Peter snorted. “Oh my God.”

Ned sniffed. “Dude, I am so honored.”

Harry gave him a serious look. “But keep it to yourself. No one else needs to know you have it.”

Ned nodded instantly. “I solemnly swear I won’t tell a soul.”

Harry just shook his head, amused, watching as his small family grew.

What Peter and Ned didn’t know was that a normal key wouldn’t do anything. Harry had warded the house beyond reason. The first layer of protection would act as a Muggle-repelling ward, making anyone with ill intent feel as if they had forgotten to do something and needed to leave. If they ignored it, the second set would knock them out, tie them up, and teleport them directly to the designated American Auror holding cells.

From there, If they were magical, the Aurors would take charge.  If they were Muggles, they’d be interrogated for the reason, their memories erased and be dumped at the police station with a cover story. 

If anyone tried to breach the wards further in… well, they would find out why Harry was so feared.

Even with a key, you couldn’t get inside unless Harry keyed you into the protections. Which is why, when he gave Peter and Ned their keys, he had also quietly keyed them—and May—into the wards. Because he trusted them. And Harry Evans did not trust lightly.

After getting his key, Ned went all in on the big brother thing. If Teddy wanted snacks? Ned got them. If Teddy wanted to play games? Ned let him win. (Okay, sometimes he let him win.) And whenever Teddy dramatically declared war on Peter, Ned was always on his side. Which, of course, led to chaos.

For example, Teddy dramatically pointed at Peter. “You, Big Brother Peter, are no match for me and Big Brother Ned!”

Peter scoffed. “Oh yeah? And what’s your plan, huh?”

Teddy grinned. “BIG BROTHER NED, ACTIVATE THE SECRET WEAPON!”

Ned smirked. “You got it, little dude.” Then, without warning, Ned grabbed a pillow and chucked it directly at Peter’s face. Peter took the hit like a chump.

Teddy giggled wildly. Ned cheered. “VICTORY!”

Peter groaned. “I hate both of you.”

Harry, standing in the doorway, shook his head. “This,” he said, “is what you get for adopting a chaotic little brother.”

Peter sighed dramatically. “Why am I always outnumbered?”

Teddy beamed. “Because we’re the best team ever!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

But, despite his grumbling, he wouldn’t change a thing.

Because they really were family.

Harry used his basement often. Unlike the rest of the house, which looked completely normal to Muggles, the basement was a fully magical space, hidden and undetectable. Down there, he had multiple hidden compartments for storage, his personal study and magical library, a potions lab where he regularly brewed supplies for himself and the trainee Aurors (he’d lost count of how many times those idiots needed emergency first aid before they could reach the infirmary), and a training area, both for himself and, eventually, for Teddy when he got older.

When Teddy is old enough, this would be where he will learn magic before going to school and practice during school holidays. Already, Harry was introducing small lessons, letting Teddy hold a practice wand and learn the basics—spelling his name with sparks, channeling magic into glowing orbs reminiscent of aurora lights, it's surprisingly engaging (Teddy is a bloody genius), and showing off Harry’s magic while telling him stories. Teddy loved every second of it.

Harry simply explained to Teddy that they were all secret ninjas so they need to keep magic a secret. It worked surprisingly well, with everyone not taking seriously when he exclaims that Harry is a super secret ninja.

Harry smiled. 'Teddy can know the real reason when he's old enough anyway.'

Chapter Text

Peter had been having a decent day. Mr. Stark was still ignoring him. Classes were boring, Ned was rambling about their next LEGO project, and Flash was being his usual, annoying self. But Peter had learned to ignore it. Flash wasn’t worth the energy.

Then Flash went after Ned.

Peter snapped.

It happened fast. One second, Flash was taunting Ned—calling him names, shoving his backpack, making cruel comments in front of everyone. The next, Peter had him pinned against the lockers. The hallway went silent. Flash stared at him, wide-eyed. Peter’s fists were clenched. His breath was sharp. He could hear his own heart pounding.

Then a teacher’s voice cut through the tension. “Parker! Principal’s office. Now.”

Peter closed his eyes. His day was officially ruined.

Peter sat in the chair, arms crossed, as the principal glanced over his file. Flash’s parents had already been called. Now it was Peter’s turn.

“We’ll be contacting your guardian,” the principal said, reaching for the phone.

Peter sighed. “Yeah, okay.” It wasn’t a big deal. They’d call May, she’d be annoyed but understanding, and everything would be fine.

Then the secretary spoke up. “May Parker isn’t answering.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. It wasn't unusual; May was probably with a patient. But the thought of no one coming to defend him, or of him having to trouble her, left him feeling hollow.

The principal sighed. “We’ll try the secondary contact.”

Peter blinked. “...The what?”

The principal barely looked up. “Your secondary emergency contact.”

Peter froze. “...I have a secondary contact?”

The principal nodded. “Yes, a Mr. Harry Evans.”

Peter’s brain short-circuited. Harry? Harry was his emergency contact?!

Before Peter could even process it, the phone was ringing.

And then Harry picked up.

“Mr. Evans?” the principal said.

A brief pause. Then, "Yes," came Harry’s calm, smooth voice. "Speaking."

Peter felt his stomach twist. The principal continued, “I’m calling regarding Peter Parker. There was an altercation with another student—”

“I see,” Harry said. "I’ll be there shortly."

The call ended. Peter buried his face in his hands.

The second Harry’s phone rang, he knew something was wrong. The number was unfamiliar, but the moment the secretary introduced herself as Midtown High’s office administrator, he was already pulling up information on his phone.

By the time she finished explaining that Peter had gotten into a fight, Harry had already hacked into the school’s disciplinary records. What he found made his blood boil. Flash Thompson’s history of bullying was extensive. Reports—some filed, most ignored. Mentions of Peter’s name over and over again. And Ned’s, too.

Harry gritted his teeth. Peter had never told him. Neither had Ned. Hell, even May didn't seem to know the full extent of it. But it didn’t matter. Because now Harry knew everything.

And someone was going to pay for it.

The moment Harry stepped into the principal’s office, the atmosphere changed. Peter and Ned, who had been bristling at Flash’s taunts, suddenly forgot how to breathe. Because Harry Evans looked like he had just walked off the cover of a CEO magazine. He was dressed in a dark navy suit, crisp and perfectly tailored. The silver cufflinks gleamed subtly, and the way he moved was a study in refined elegance, like a young king surveying his court.

It wasn’t just the clothes that made the room feel smaller. There was something else. Something dangerous. A sharp, military precision in the way he walked. A controlled fury simmering beneath his expression.

Peter and Ned, sitting in their chairs, were too stunned to speak. Peter managed to whisper, “Dude. He looks like he came straight out of a novel.”

Ned nodded slowly. “Like… if a royal commander entered modern world.”

Peter swallowed. “He looks terrifying.”

Ned whispered, “I know.”

Meanwhile, everyone else in the room was having a very different reaction. For the first time, they noticed something very strange about Harry Evans. He was young, but the way he walked, the way he carried himself… he didn’t feel young. There was no awkwardness, no uncertainty. His expression was unreadable, his presence intimidating.

The principal swallowed nervously. Flash’s parents, who had been gearing up to argue, suddenly looked like they weren’t so sure anymore, their instincts screaming at them to back down. Flash just stared, his mind screaming that the guy Peter had called wasn’t normal. His self-preservation— unknown to him, reacting to the angry magic— was screaming to get away.

The first thing Harry did was step between Peter and Ned, blocking them completely from Flash and his parents. Physically. Like it was instinct.

Peter froze. Ned felt his chest tighten. Because no one—no one—had ever done that for them before. He was protecting them. Peter swallowed hard. Ned blinked rapidly, suddenly way more emotional than he wanted to be.

Flash noticed ofcourse. Because Peter Parker, the kid he had bullied for years, now had someone standing in front of him—shielding him—like he actually mattered.

Harry’s gaze swept over the principal. “I assume I was called here to discuss the blatant negligence of this institution in allowing constant bullying to take place on its premises.”

The principal paled. “Mr. Evans, that’s not—”

“I haven’t finished speaking.”

The principal snapped his mouth shut. Harry’s voice remained calm, collected—but sharp as a blade.

“This school has a long-documented history of allowing Mr. Thompson to harass students without consequence. Given that my brother”—he gestured to Peter—“was one of those students, I assume your faculty simply chose to ignore the problem⁹?”

The principal fidgeted. “That’s not entirely fair—”

“Fair?” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like someone who concerns himself with fairness, especially since it seems you don't care about it either?”

The principal visibly sweated. Flash’s parents, who had been ready to argue in their son’s defense, suddenly looked like they were rethinking their choices.

Harry continued, his voice smooth. “Here is what is going to happen. You are going to present me with a written record of all previous complaints filed against Mr. Thompson. If you don’t have one, I will assume this school has been neglecting its duty to protect students, and I will personally see to it that legal action is taken against you.”

The principal looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

“Furthermore,” Harry continued, “if I hear so much as a whisper about my brother or his friend being harassed again, I will ensure this school’s funding is reviewed for its failure to provide a safe environment.”

The principal’s eyes widened in alarm. “Funding?” he echoed weakly.

Harry smiled coldly. “Did you really think Midtown High runs without financial oversight? I have political contacts who would be very interested in hearing about your lack of proper student protections.” 'actually that is a plain threat, Midtown has a good reputation so he's going to use his contacts to review the staff and wash out all those who ignored bullying and have them replaced.'

The principal turned pale. Peter and Ned exchanged awe-filled glances.

Ned whispered, “Dude, he just threatened to end the school.”

Peter nodded. “So cool.”

Flash’s father cleared his throat. “Now, wait just a moment—”

Harry turned. His attention locked onto Flash’s parents. They immediately looked uncomfortable.

“Mr. Thompson,” Harry said smoothly. “Your son has spent years harassing my brother. Now that he’s faced the consequences of his actions, you want to play the victim?”

Flash’s mother huffed. “Our son was attacked! He—”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Did he attack first? Let's check the security footage right now if there is any doubt about who started it. And then you will leave me no choice but to take legal action.”

Silence.

Harry smirked. “Ah. That’s what I thought.”

Flash’s mother faltered. Harry took a slow, measured step closer. “My baby brother has tolerated your son’s bullying for years. If you were actually concerned about your son’s well-being, perhaps you should have corrected his behavior before he finally faced someone who wasn’t willing to tolerate it.”

Peter flushed at being called 'baby brother,' a warmth filling his heart.

Flash’s father tensed. “Are you threatening us?”

Harry smiled. “No. I’m simply pointing out that your lack of parenting is finally catching up to you.”

Flash’s father looked furious—but hesitant. Harry looked like someone they didn’t want to make an enemy of. His presence, his voice, the way he controlled the conversation—he wasn’t just some kid. He was dangerous. And he knew it.

Peter and Ned were still recovering from the sheer intensity of what had just happened. The school had been destroyed verbally. Flash’s parents had been shut down entirely. And Harry had done it so effortlessly that Peter and Ned were still reeling.

Then, just when they thought the surprises were over, Harry led them straight to a sleek black Bugatti parked outside.

Peter froze mid-step. Ned gaped.

Peter pointed. “That’s a Bugatti.”

Ned nodded slowly. “It is.”

Peter turned to Harry. “Why do you have a Bugatti?”

Harry, already unlocking the doors, glanced back at them blankly. “To drive.” 'Is something wrong with it?, the goblins recommended it to him among many others.'

Peter and Ned exchanged looks. Then, in perfect sync, they whispered, “...Cool.”

The moment the doors closed, Peter immediately leaned forward from the passenger seat. “Okay, you have to tell me—how did you do that?”

Harry didn’t even glance at him. “Do what?”

Peter gestured wildly. “That! Back there! The intimidation thing!”

Ned nodded furiously. “Dude, you owned that room.”

Harry sighed, adjusting the gear shift smoothly. “I studied law.”

Silence.

Then:

Peter, whispering, “He’s a lawyer ninja.”

Ned, nodding solemnly, “With the ability to terrify adults into submission.”

Harry said nothing. The Bugatti purred as they glided through the streets.

Then, suddenly, “You’re not getting off the hook for not telling May or your parents.”

Peter and Ned froze. Ned winced. “Uh—”

Harry cut him off. “No excuses.”

Peter opened his mouth. Harry gave him a sharp look in the rearview mirror. Peter snapped his mouth shut.

Harry’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge. “They’re your guardians. They deserve to know what’s happening to you.”

Ned fidgeted. “We just… didn’t want to worry them.”

Peter nodded quickly. “Yeah. We could handle it, so—”

Harry exhaled sharply through his nose. “That’s not your call to make. Trust me, I know how you feel.” He quickly pushed aside the memories of his own childhood, when he had no one to complain to and had to rely only on himself even after entering magical world.

Peter and Ned stilled. Harry’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. “It’s their job to worry about you,” he said. “It’s their right to know when something’s wrong.”

Peter and Ned looked down. The weight of Harry’s words settled over them. And for the rest of the ride, the car was silent. Harry was upset. Peter and Ned were nervous. And for the first time all day, the victory they had felt earlier didn’t feel quite as good.

Beyond the scolding, both guardians were both disappointed that their kids his it and relieved that it hopefully won't happen again.

They were truly greatful that Harry handled it because if Flash's parents were to threaten them financially then they wouldn't be able to do anything.

Peter had barely slept. And judging by the look on Ned’s face when they met up outside of school, neither had he. They both stood near the entrance, staring at the students filing into Midtown High, hesitating.

Ned groaned. “I hate that he was so quiet about it. I’d rather he just yelled.”

Peter nodded. “Same. Silent disappointment? Terrifying.”

They both stood there, not moving. Peter sighed. “We have to fix this.”

Ned groaned. “How?”

Peter hesitated. Then, “I have an idea.”

Ned stared. “That’s never good.”

Peter and Ned had long accepted that Harry Evans was a terrifyingly competent big brother.

But after everything that happened with Flash, and the school?

They started to realize something didn’t add up.

Harry knew too much. Not just in a "he’s smart and well-read kind of way" but in a "how the hell do you know this when you never even went to school kind of way".

Peter and Ned were hanging out in Harry’s living room, scrolling through their phones while Teddy played with his LEGOs and Harry was in his "totally normal and definitely not suspicious basement office".

Peter was watching a news segment on politics, half-listening, when he suddenly remembered something.

"Hey, Ned," he said. "Remember when Harry commented on how the government will try to control supers?"

Ned snorted. "Yeah. Did you read the accords, it's basically a fancy worded freedom restriction contract."

"but like—how?" Peter frowned. "How does he know all that stuff? He didn’t go to school with us. He never talks about college. But he acts like he has a law degree."

Ned froze.

Then he slowly turned to look at Peter.

“…Dude.”

Peter narrowed his eyes.

“Dude.”

Because yeah—now that Peter thought about it, Harry also knew politics, law, and international relations.And that wasn’t just something you casually pick up.

Right?....Peter and Ned exchanged a look.

And in perfect sync—

"We need to look him up."

Searching for Harry Evans

Ned pulled out his laptop, fingers flying across the keys as he searched.

Peter leaned over his shoulder, eyes scanning the screen as Ned typed in:

Harry Evans – New York

Nothing.

Harry Evans – CEO

Still nothing.

Harry Evans – Political Connections

Nothing.

Peter frowned. “Dude, how is there nothing? He literally acts like a billionaire CEO, there should be something.”

Ned nodded, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, this is weird.”

Peter sat back, thinking. “Okay, what about deeper databases? Corporate records? Maybe even news articles?”

Ned cracked his knuckles. “Say no more.”

Thirty minutes later, Ned was staring at the screen in horror.

Peter frowned. “What?”

“…He doesn’t exist except for citizenship records.”

 “What?”

“I tried government databases. Corporate records. Everything.” Ned shook his head. “There is no record of Harry Evans anywhere.”

“…That’s not possible.”

Ned ran a hand through his hair. “Dude. I know.”

Peter thought for a moment. “Maybe he changed his name?”

Ned nodded slowly. “Maybe. But that still doesn’t explain everything else.”

Now, they weren’t just curious.Now they were determined.

Before they could start digging further, though, Harry did something unexpected.He showed up at Peter’s apartment one morning, completely unannounced, and tossed him a helmet.

Peter barely caught it. “What—?”

Harry smirked. “You and Ned are coming with me today.”

Peter blinked. “Uh. Where?”

Harry didn’t answer.

Instead, he simply texted Ned:

Harry: Be outside in five minutes.

Ned’s response was immediate.

Ned: What why what’s happening—

Harry: No questions. Just be ready.

Ned: …terrifying but okay.

And that was how Peter and Ned ended up on the back of a motorcycle(peter in the back seat and ned in the carrier), speeding down the highway, completely lost but too excited to care.

Harry had planned the entire day. First stop? Breakfast at an insane rooftop café with the best waffles Peter had ever tasted.Then, An arcade that had literal vintage games and a VR setup that made Ned geek out so hard he nearly passed out.

After that, Harry somehow had reservations at an exclusive bowling alley-slash-lounge that was way too fancy for them, but the food was incredible, so they didn’t question it.

And finally—Harry took them go-kart racing.

And that was when Peter and Ned remembered something very important.Harry was competitive.

The first round of racing was fine.Harry was casually in the lead, completely relaxed as he effortlessly outmaneuvered them.

Peter was desperate to catch up.Ned, meanwhile, was just trying not to crash.

Then—Peter got an idea. He glanced at Ned. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Ned grinned. “Oh yeah.”

Harry, up ahead, immediately sensed danger.

He barely had time to react before Peter and Ned ganged up on him, blocking him in with perfectly timed turns.

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

Peter grinned triumphantly. “Ha! Got you now!”

Harry grinned.

Then, with the smoothest move they had ever seen, Harry braked, spun, and slid out of the trap like it was nothing.

Peter and Ned crashed into each other immediately.

Harry casually crossed the finish line first.

Peter groaned. “HOW?”

Ned just stared. “Dude. He’s a race car driver too?”

Harry, acted completely unbothered,  smirking to hide his laughter. “Better luck next time.” 'You don't need to be a race car driver to outmaneuver two newbies on their first day. These two are so funny.' okay so maybe he used a bit of magic but that means nothing.'

Peter collapsed onto the track. “I hate you.”

Harry patted his shoulder. “No, you don’t.”

Peter just laughed.

Because for the first time in days, he wasn’t thinking about Flash. Or the school. Or Tony Stark Or Spiderman Or anything stressful.

Just this.Just being here, with family.

By the time they got back, Peter and Ned were exhausted. Harry parked the bike, stretching slightly. “Feeling better?”

Peter nodded. Ned yawned. “Dude. That was awesome.”

Harry smirked. “Good.”

Peter hesitated. Then, softly, “...Thanks.”

Harry glanced at him. “For what?”

Peter shrugged. “For… today. For everything.”

Harry was silent for a moment. “That’s what big brothers are for.”

Peter felt his chest tighten. He didn’t need to say anything else. Because Harry wasn’t going anywhere. And that, that was enough.

Peter and Ned had been casually suspicious of Harry before.

But after failing to find anything about him anywhere on the internet, they were fully committed.

So naturally, they did what any rational people would do.

They grabbed a whiteboard, a stack of sticky notes, and turned Peter’s room into a full-on investigation headquarters.

Ned stood in front of the board, marker in hand, and dramatically wrote:

"WHO IS HARRY EVANS???"

Peter nodded seriously. “Alright. Let’s review what we know.”

Ned tapped the marker against his palm. “Confirmed facts: He’s ridiculously good at politics, law, and international relations—”

(Harry: I'm a lord)

Peter nodded. “And no government or corporate records exist on him.”

( Harry:Statue of secrecy is a serious thing)

Ned added another note. “Drives a Bugatti and acts like a CEO, but there’s no trace of him in business.”

( Again Statue of secrecy is a serious thing but maybe they should do something about the no records thing.)

Peter snapped his fingers. “And let’s not forget—he’s apparently a professional-level race car driver.”

(harry simple used his quick reaction response with dash of magic not that peter or ned know about it)

Ned pointed at the board. “Right! And he somehow knows people in power.”

(Harry: ofcourse I do)

Peter groaned. “Dude, who is he?”

Ned dramatically slapped a new note onto the board:

"Secret Agent?"

Peter gasped. “Spy theory is back on the table!”

They both stared at the board, deep in thought.

Peter squinted. “Alright. We need more data.”

Ned cracked his knuckles. “Time to hack deeper.”

Unfortunately for them, Harry was not an idiot.

Within ten minutes of their search, Harry—sitting in his home office—felt the tiniest flicker of an attempt to probe certain databases.

(Harry simply placed a spell to know if someone is trying to breach anytime anywhere which is something most of the wixen, who are involved with no-maj world, do after graduation to better protect themselves.

It quickly became a necessary with the rapid development of technology.)

He smirked.

Peter and Ned, bless their hearts, were good at technology.

Harry was better.(Son of Stark here)

So instead of shutting them down immediately, he decided to have some fun.

Peter and Ned were deep into their search when—

Their screen glitched.

Ned frowned. “Wait—”

A message popped up:

"Nice try."

Peter froze. “Uh.”

Then, a second message appeared:

"Do you really think you can out-hack me?"

Ned paled. “Oh no.”

Peter grabbed his head. “OH MY GOD HE KNOWS.”

Then the laptop shut down on its own.

Dead silence.

Ned slowly turned to Peter.

“…We are so screwed.”

An hour later, Peter got a text.

Harry: Anything interesting on the internet today?

Peter nearly dropped his phone.

He frantically texted back.

Peter: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT.

Harry: Uh-huh. Sure.

Peter groaned, tossing his phone onto his bed.

Ned, sitting next to him, looked equally stressed.

“So,” Ned said. “On a scale of one to ten, how dead are we?”

Peter sighed. “At least a twelve.”

Ned nodded solemnly. “Cool, cool.”

A knock at the door.

Peter and Ned froze.

They slowly turned to look at the door.

Peter swallowed. “You don’t think—”

The door swung open.

Harry stood there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

Peter and Ned screamed.

Harry casually walked in, closing the door behind him.

“So,” he said. “You two have been busy.”

Peter and Ned sat up straight like terrified soldiers.

“Nope,” Peter said quickly. “Not at all. Just—hanging out. Normal stuff.”

Ned nodded furiously. “Yup! Completely normal! No hacking. No conspiracies. Definitely didn’t turn Peter’s room into an investigation headquarters—”

Peter kicked him.

Harry just sighed.

Smoothly, he pulled out his phone and showed them a picture. 'Thanks for the heads-up May'

It was their conspiracy board.

Peter screamed internally.

Ned choked. “HOW?!”

Harry smirked. “You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Peter groaned. “Okay, okay. Maybe we tried to look into you.”

Ned held up his hands. “In our defense, you don’t exist on the internet!”

Peter nodded. “And you quote political theory and law like you have a degree but never went to college! And you’re weirdly good at things normal people shouldn’t be good at!”

Harry simply raised an eyebrow. “So instead of asking me, you decided to hack into government records?”

Peter and Ned looked away.

“…Maybe.”

Harry sighed.

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not a secret agent.”

( Just an ex rebellion leader now a secret world leader)

Peter squinted. “That’s exactly what a secret agent would say.”

Harry smirked. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

Peter and Ned grumbled.

Harry turned toward the door, then paused.

“Oh,” he added casually. “I deleted all your searches.”

Peter and Ned froze.

“…What?” Peter asked.

Harry smiled innocently. “And all your backups.”

Ned paled. “Wait—”

“And your conspiracy board? Yeah. It’s gone.”

Peter snapped his head toward his wall.

The board was completely empty.

Peter gasped. “HOW?!”

Harry just winked. “Better luck next time.”

Without another word, he walked out.Peter and Ned sat there in absolute horror.

Then, finally, Ned whispered:

“Dude. He is a spy.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Oh yeah. Definitely.”

Harry barely out of the door groans.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

After their first failed attempt at uncovering Harry’s past, Peter and Ned knew they had to be smarter. Harry had caught them last time. He’d erased their searches, wiped their conspiracy board, and even mocked them for trying. But did that mean they were going to stop? Absolutely not.

This time, they planned carefully. No using their personal devices—they went to the school library. No obvious searches—they used a VPN, fake accounts, and disguised their queries. No rushing—they searched in small pieces, gathering information bit by bit.

And they found something.

Ned stared at the screen, eyes wide. “Dude.”

Peter leaned in. “What?”

Ned turned the screen toward him. “I found something.”

Peter snatched the mouse, scrolling rapidly.

And there it was—

An official government record.

Name: Harry Evans
Citizenship: Dual Citizen (United Kingdom / United States)
Current Residence: New York, USA
Legal Status: Diplomatic Immunity in the United States

Peter’s jaw dropped.

“Diplomatic immunity?!” he whispered.

Ned nodded excitedly. “Dude, that’s not even the best part. Look at this.”

He clicked another tab.

It was a school record.

School: Edinburgh Academy for the Exceptionally Gifted
Location: Scotland, United Kingdom
Status: Graduate

Peter gasped. “That—”

“That’s a real school,” Ned said. “Super exclusive. Only elite kids get in. No internet allowed, total secrecy. It’s like some spy academy or something.”

Peter grabbed his hair. “Dude. DUDE. What if he’s an actual agent?!”

Ned kept scrolling. “Wait, there’s more.”

Peter leaned in. “More?!”

Ned grinned. “Check this out.”

Professional Qualifications

They found certifications.

• Certified Field Medic – Emergency Trauma Specialization
• Professional Law Qualification – International Affairs & Governance
• Registered Consultant for MI6 – Details Confidential

Peter fell out of his chair. Ned nearly choked on air.

“Oh my God,” Peter whispered. “Harry is an actual trained field medic? And a legal expert?!" 'I already know about MI6 cause he told he was a consultant but! but the rest?!'

Ned gasped dramatically. “He’s a British spy lawyer doctor ninja!”

Peter grabbed his face. “We were right! He’s a super agent!”

Ned nodded furiously. “DUDE. WE HAVE TO TELL MY PARENTS.”

Peter jumped up. “AND MAY.”

The Adults Already Knew

May had been enjoying a peaceful afternoon of her leave day when Peter and Ned burst into her apartment like lunatics.

May nearly dropped her drink. “WHAT—”

Peter grabbed her shoulders. “AUNT MAY. WE FOUND IT.”

Ned waved a stack of printouts. “HARRY EVANS EXISTS BUT HE’S A SPY.”

May blinked. “...I’m sorry, what?”

Peter shoved the papers in her face. “He has dual citizenship! He went to a secret boarding school in Scotland for rich people! He’s a trained field medic! He’s a legal expert! AND HE HAS A RECORD OF WORKING WITH MI6 LIKE HE SAID AND HE HAS DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY.”

May took the papers, read them, and then stared at them. Then she looked at the boys. Then back at the papers. Finally, she sighed.

“...Yeah, that tracks.”

Peter and Ned gawked. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT TRACKS?!” Peter shouted.

May shrugged. “I mean… we spoke about some of his experience and this is just futher proof that what he said is true, not that I doubted it.”

Peter threw his hands in the air. “HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS?!”

May smirked. “I’ve had time to process.”

Ned grabbed his phone. “I’M TELLING MY MOM.”

Ned sprinted home, bursting into the kitchen like a man on fire. His mom, mid-chopping vegetables, narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

Ned gasped for breath. “HARRY’S A BRITISH SPY LAWYER DOCTOR NINJA!”

She slowly set down the knife. Then, calmly, “Explain.”

Ned shoved the papers onto the counter. His mom picked them up, read them, and then raised an eyebrow. “...And?”

Ned stared. “MOM. HE WORKED FOR MI6.”

She hummed. 

Ned waved his hands. “HOW ARE YOU NOT FREAKING OUT?!”

His dad, walking in, glanced at the papers and shrugged. “He did say he worked with intelligence.”

Ned gawked. “WHAT.”

His mom smirked. “Oh, honey. Did you really think you were subtle about your investigation?”

Ned froze.

His dad clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re smart, son. But you’re not Harry smart at investigations.”

And just like that—everything made sense. Harry had let them find this. Which meant...

Ned gasped. “PETER. HE PLAYED US.”

And on the other end of the city? Harry, sipping his tea, smirked.

Chapter Text

Peter had been having a great day. He'd aced his chemistry quiz, eaten two sandwiches at lunch 'special sandwiches that Harry made especially for him, exclaiming that I need all the nutrients that I could get which turns out are very fulfilling which is saying something considering his metabolism. Now he doesn't go half full anymore. Which sometimes scares him into thinking that Harry might know that he is spider-man.', and, for once, Harry hadn’t flipped him onto his back during training. That last part was a win in itself.

But the best part was that he was finally starting to get it. Harry’s training—the way he talked about control, strategy, and positioning—was actually making sense now. Peter had never thought about fights that way before. But now, as he perched on a rooftop in his suit, scanning the streets below, he found himself thinking about positioning, movement, and where threats could come from. That made him feel more prepared than ever.

Which was perfect timing. Because the moment he spotted the group of guys in Avengers masks breaking into a bank, he knew it was go time.

Peter groaned as he pulled out his phone. “Come on, come on, pick up…” After a few rings, Happy Hogan’s voicemail kicked in. Peter sighed and started talking anyway. “Hey, Happy! Uh, so I just found some guys robbing a bank with, like, super illegal alien tech? You know, not normal weapons? Thought maybe Mr. Stark would wanna know?”

He waited a second, hoping Happy would miraculously pick up. Nothing. Peter sighed. “Right. Of course.” Then he shoved his phone away, launched a web, and swung down to handle it himself.

Peter landed gracefully on the sidewalk outside the bank’s broken window. “Guys, come on,” he called, hands on his hips. “If you’re gonna rob a bank in Avengers masks, at least pick a side. Are you pro-heroes or anti-heroes?”

The men inside froze. Then one of them, wearing a Thor mask, cursed. “Shit—it’s Spider-Man!”

Peter grinned. “Aww, you know me!”

The Hulk-masked guy raised a modified Chitauri weapon and aimed. That’s when Harry’s training kicked in. Peter didn’t wait for the shot to fire. Instead of dodging reactively, like he normally would, he moved first—forcing the robber to adjust. Control the fight. He webbed the guy’s wrist and yanked, throwing off his aim before the weapon could fire. The energy blast missed completely, scorching the ceiling instead. Peter grinned. That’s one down.

But there were still three more. The Iron Man-masked guy charged at him, swinging wildly. Peter, instead of just dodging back, angled his movement—sidestepping in a way that forced the guy closer to the teller desks. The moment the guy turned, Peter webbed his feet to the floor. Iron Man Mask tripped, slammed face-first into the counter, and went down. Peter grinned. That’s two.

The last two guys—Thor and Captain America Masks—moved together, using the bank layout to force Peter into a corner. Which meant… they thought he was trapped. Peter smirked. Then, instead of trying to break through, he led them further in, dodging just enough to make them follow him. And right when they overcommitted, Peter backflipped over them and webbed both of them to the counter.

Captain America Mask cursed. “Son of a—”

Thor Mask struggled. “Get off me, man!”

Peter dusted off his hands. “Aaaand that’s four.”

Just as Peter secured the last guy, the weapon that Thor Mask had dropped started glowing. Peter stiffened. “Uh. That doesn’t look normal.” The blue energy pulsed ominously. Then, before he could react, it overloaded, sending out a shockwave that blew out the bank windows completely. Peter was thrown back, barely catching himself as shards of glass rained down. The robbers groaned, dazed from the blast.

Peter shook himself off, heart pounding. “Okay. Not what I wanted to happen.” He rushed forward, webbing up the weapon before it could cause any more damage. And that’s when he noticed the glowing purple stone inside it. Peter frowned. That… looked weirdly important.

The police sirens blared from outside. Peter took a step back, glancing between the captured robbers, the damaged bank, and the glowing tech in his hands. Normally, he’d just leave this stuff behind for the cops. But this was alien tech. It thrummed with energy, faintly pulsing in his palm. This wasn’t just a bank robbery. Something bigger was happening. And if no one else was going to look into it, then he would.

Alone. after all he was Spider-Man and no one knows about it

(Harry:....... If it weren't for breaking the fourth wall, you would be grounded for doing dangerous things alone even if it makes me a hypocrite.)

Peter rushed home, eager to start analyzing the alien tech. He barely even registered that Ned was supposed to come by, too focused on getting his suit on and starting his investigation. So when Ned finally walked into Peter’s room, he came face-to-face with Spider-Man.

Peter, hanging upside down from the ceiling, froze.

Ned, holding a LEGO Death Star piece, stared.

Silence.

Ned’s entire brain short-circuited.

Ned dropped his LEGO piece. Peter dropped from the ceiling. Ned pointed at him. “Y-YOU’RE—”

Peter ripped off his mask. “SHHHHHHH!”

Ned took a deep breath. And screamed.

Peter tackled him onto the bed, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Ned! Ned, shut up!”

Ned muffled something against his hand, eyes as wide as saucers. Peter slowly moved his hand away. Ned gasped for air. Then whispered, “DUDE.”

Peter sighed. “Yeah.”

Ned sat up, still in shock. “You—you’re Spider-Man?!”

Peter groaned. “No, I just like dressing up and climbing walls for fun.”

Ned ignored the sarcasm completely. His hands shot to his head. “Oh my God. This makes so much sense now.”

Peter blinked. “It does?”

Ned nodded furiously. “YES! Why you’re always disappearing without any good reason! and all those secret ‘internship’ trips!”

Peter froze. 

Ned gasped dramatically. “WAIT. If you’re Spider-Man—then the Stark Internship—”

Peter immediately held up his hands. “It’s real! It’s just—not what I told you.”

Ned’s jaw dropped. “DUDE. YOU’RE LITERALLY WORKING FOR TONY STARK.”

Peter sighed. “Technically, yes. But also, NO ONE CAN KNOW.”

Ned grabbed him by the shoulders. “PETER. HOW ARE YOU NOT FREAKING OUT ABOUT THIS?!”

Peter waved his hands. “Because I already freaked out months ago!”

Ned paused. Then narrowed his eyes. “...Does Harry know?”

Peter hesitated. “...I think he doesn’t.”

(Harry: snorts Yeah, right.)

Ned stared. “You think?”

Peter fidgeted. “He’s… weirdly observant.”

Ned nodded quickly. “Yeah. Because he’s a spy doctor lawyer!”

“So wait—if Harry doesn’t know, what’s your plan?”

Peter froze. “...Plan?”

Ned grinned. “Oh, you definitely don’t have a plan.”

Peter buried his face in his hands.

The freakout didn’t last long. Because within minutes, Ned was fully onboard.

“Okay, okay,” Ned said, pacing the room. “This is huge. Like, next-level huge.”

Peter sat on his bed, rubbing his face. “I know.”

Ned spun around. “And you need help.”

Peter frowned. “I—what?”

Ned pointed dramatically. “You need me. Every hero has someone running backup. Someone on the computer. Someone in the chair.”

Peter blinked. “...The chair?”

“Yes! You know, the guy in the chair!” Ned grabbed Peter’s desk chair, spun it around, and plopped down in it.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “You just wanna sit in my chair.”

Ned waved him off. “Irrelevant.” Then he grinned. “Dude, think about it. You go out fighting crime, and I’ll be here, running searches, hacking into security cams, tracking the bad guys—you know, hero support!”

Peter hesitated. Then, after a moment, “...That actually sounds kinda awesome.”

Ned grinned even wider. “RIGHT?! I can be, like, your own personal Oracle!”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been watching too much Batman.”

Ned ignored him. “Come on! You’ve been doing this alone, right? Imagine how much easier it’d be if you had real-time backup.”

Peter bit his lip. “I mean… yeah.” Then he sighed. “But seriously, you can’t tell anyone. Not May, not your parents—no one.”

Ned held up a hand. “Dude. You literally just handed me the greatest secret of all time. Do you really think I’d mess this up?”

Peter squinted. “I dunno. You did scream.”

Ned rolled his eyes. “You dropped from the ceiling in a spandex suit! It was a natural reaction!”

Peter grinned. “Still funny, though.”

Ned shoved him playfully. “Whatever, Spider-Dork.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Rhodey had seen a lot of crazy things in his life.This was new.

The results had just been delivered, stamped with official Stark Industries authentication.Now Rhodey was staring at a 99.99% match between Tony Stark and Harry Evans.

Rhodey’s brain short-circuited.“...Oh, shit.”

He snatched the folder off the desk and sat down.Then stood back up.Then sat down again.

“…Nope. Not dealing with this alone.”

He pulled out his phone and called Happy.

Happy was mid-coffee when his phone rang.He checked the ID. Rhodey.

He sighed. “This better not be another Avengers-level disaster.”He answered. “What?”

Rhodey’s voice was tense. “Get to Stark Tower. Now.”

Happy frowned. “Why?”

“I have an emergency.”

Happy groaned. “Unless it involves Tony doing something monumentally stupid, I don’t—”

“This is worse.”

“…Worse than Tony?”

Happy swore.

Then grabbed his keys. “I’ll be there in ten."

By the time Happy stormed into the lab, Rhodey was pacing.

“Alright,” Happy said. Rhodey threw the results at him.Happy grabbed them and scanned the page.

He froze. Because there, in official black-and-white print—Tony Stark: 99.99% DNA match to Sample. Happy sat down immediately.

“…Oh, we’re screwed.”

Rhodey nodded. “Yep.”

Happy stared at the paper.Then back at Rhodey. Then back at the paper. "Tony—”

“—has a son.”

“Oh, he’s gonna lose his mind.”

He sighed. “Alright. So where’s the kid?”. Rhodey ran a hand through his hair. “He left.”

Happy blinked. “He what?!”

“Yeah,” Rhodey muttered. “Said he had to get back to work. He was supposed to come back after.”

“ Work?”. Rhodey nodded. “That’s what he said.”

“How old is he again?”. “…Sixteen.”

Happy’s eye twitched. “A sixteen-year-old working?”

Rhodey shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, man. He said he’s a consultant in law enforcement .”

Happy rubbed his face. “Jesus.”

“This is bad."

“Understatement of the year,” Happy shot back.

Rhodey dragged a hand down his face. “That’s not even the worst part.”

“How is that not the worst part?!”

“The kid brought a baby with him.”

“…What.”

Rhodey nodded grimly. “He had a kid with him.”

"His brother?"

Rhodey shook his head "no ...his baby, looks like him too"

“Tony has a grandkid?!”

Rhodey groaned. “That’s what I’m saying!”

Happy’s hands went to his head. “We—he—he doesn’t even know he has a son! Now he’s a grandfather?!”

Rhodey rubbed his temples. “I know.”

Happy stared at Rhodey.Rhodey stared at Happy.

Happy threw his arms up. “ All we can do is now wait and see when the kid comes back and tell Tony.”

(If he comes back)

Rhodey just collapsed into a chair.

“…Yeah.”

Tony Stark was a father and a grandfather.

And he had no idea.

Rhodey and Happy decided to wait for the kid but no matter how long they waited he didn't come back.

(Harry at this time was kicking open Peter's door after the call of help from May and honestly forgot about the test)

Tony Stark was having a normal day. Well as normal as a day can be when you almost get a heart attack from a reckless spiderling and had to take his suit in hopes that he gives up being spiderman and atleast have a semi-normal life or I want him to realise that unlike me he's better and doesn't a need a suit to be a hero. Parenting mentoring is hard.

Then Rhodey and Happy stormed into his lab like they was on fire.

And Tony—who had just taken a sip of coffee—choked.

(coffee-oh my dear coffee where would I be without you)

Because the first thing Rhodey said was—

“You have a kid.”

(Tony felt his not so normal day get worse with a very very bad feeling)

Tony coughed violently.

“What—?!”

Happy dropped a file onto the table.

“Scratch that. You have a kid and a grandkid.”

“Oh, good one,” he said, smirking. “Alright, which one of you had the bad dream, and which one’s here for moral support?”

Rhodey and Happy said nothing and stared. Carefully, he put his coffee down.

He folded his hands.And in the calmest voice possible, he asked—

“Are you both high?”

Rhodey shoved the file toward him. “Just read it.” Tony grabbed it.

(Tony suddenly felt his body not co-operating-no it's not from being old)

He slowly flipped it open.And immediately froze.

Subject A: Tony Stark
Subject B: Harry Evans
Result: 99.99% match

Tony’s brain short-circuited.

“…What.”

Happy sighed. “That’s what we said.”

Tony flipped through the papers wildly.

“No, no, no, hold on—this is a joke, right? A prank? Am I getting Punk’d?”

Rhodey crossed his arms. “Afraid not.”

Tony stared at them before letting out a hysterical laugh.Because that was all he could do.

“Oh, great! No, this is fine! It’s not like I just confiscated Peter’s suit and now suddenly found out I have kids!” He threw his arms in the air.

“I mean, wow! Look at me! One minute, I’m scolding a teenager—next minute, I’m somebody’s father—!”

"-and a grandfather apparently because being being is a father isn't enough. I'm too young to be a grandfather!!"

“…I need a drink!! I'm not sober enough for this conversation but I can't, who the the hell who drink when they found out that they have a kid somewhere out there!!.”

(He's not Harward)

Rhodey and Happy exchanged a look.

“…He’s spiraling,” Rhodey muttered.

Happy sighed. “Yeah, let’s give him a sec.”

Tony kept ranting.

“How old is he?”

“…Sixteen.”

"He's a teenager a kid"

“ Where the hell is He?!”.

Rhodey sighed "he left".

"He left???!!!"

Rhodey nodded.

Tony’s throat felt tight.

“You mean to tell me,” he said slowly, voice tight, “that my own son showed up, took a test, and then just… walked away?…He didn’t even wait for the results?”

Rhodey muttered. “Said he had to get back to work. He was supposed to come back after.”

"But he didn't come back"

"Yeah" Happy put his face in his palms.

Tony swallowed hard. His son—his own kid—had come and gone.Like it didn’t even matter. Like Tony Stark was nothing more than a footnote in his life. His chest ached.

“I need to find him.”

'Because can someone have the irrational urge to know everything about a person so bad when they just exist. Because this was his son -and grandson though he is not touching that yet- he wants to know, who are his parents, what is he doing,what does he like, does he like science?'

“Okay. First question.” He pointed at the file. “Who the hell is Harry Evans?”

“We don’t know.”

Tony spluttered 

“…Come again?”

Happy sighed. “We tried looking him up. We got nothing.”

“Define ‘nothing.’”

Rhodey gestured toward the screen. “See for yourself.”

Birth records. School files. Medical history.

He scoured every government system he had access to.

Nothing.

Or rather—

Name: Harry Evans.

Education: Edinburgh Academy for the Exceptionally Gifted.

Occupation: Consultant for US Law enforcement (classified).

Citizenship: Dual British-American.

Miscellaneous: Professional field medic, private law qualification, brief records of working with MI6 (classified), diplomatic Immunity in America.

No baby photos.No social media.No medical history beyond basic vaccinations.Everything else is Completely locked down.

Tony’s eye twitched.

He turned slowly toward Rhodey and Happy.

“You mean to tell me,” he said, voice dangerously calm, “that my own son has better security than the Pentagon? Why the hell does he have diplomatic immunity?!!”

(Harry: you see magic is a funny thing)

"Who the hell is my son??!!"

(Harry: I'm a human, just a bit on the special side along with many others.)

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

Chapter Text

Tony was not handling this well. At all.

Because, apparently, he had a son. And that son had walked into his building, taken a paternity test, and left like it was just another Tuesday.

Tony had so many damn questions. So, naturally, he gave the order.

“FRIDAY, pull up the security footage from when the kid was here.”

“Displaying now, Boss.”

The screens flickered to life. And Tony Stark, along with Rhodey and Happy, got their first proper look at Harry Evans.

The video started at the front desk.

The video started at the front desk. Harry walked in, completely calm, carrying a small toddler on his hip. Tony’s breath caught. Because holy shit. That was his son. And that was… his grandson. Tony felt dizzy.

Meanwhile, Rhodey and Happy were watching Harry like hawks—every step, every movement. The more they watched, the more confused they got. This kid didn’t walk like a teenager. He didn’t fidget. He didn’t hesitate. He carried himself like he belonged there. 

(Tony: That must be my genes at work

*Proud dad noises*)

Like walking into Stark Tower with a toddler was just another day for him. His posture was straight, his presence commanding, and his expression completely unreadable.

Rhodey narrowed his eyes.“…He walks like a soldier.”

Tony blinked. “I was gonna say spy, but sure.”

(Aaaand the spy theory is back on the table 

Peter and Ned: It didn't even leave the table

Harry: ...... I'm not a spy.

Peter and Ned: but you have no records and you're a super lawyer doctor ninja if you are not a spy)

Happy frowned. They all watched in silence as Harry made his way to the desk.

The toddler suddenly grabbed Harry’s face.

And, in a clear, determined voice, asked—

“Daddy, can I press the buttons?”

Tony choked out a laugh.

Rhodey and Happy stared in amusement.

On-screen, Harry sighed.“Teddy, what did we talk about?”

Teddy huffed.“But they look fun!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Teddy puffed out his cheeks. “And you said I can’t press buttons in fancy buildings.”

Harry nodded. “That’s right.”

Teddy pouted.

“…But what if I just press one?”

Tony felt his heart clench.Because, holy hell.That was his grandson and he was a menace.

Tony locked onto the screen.He still couldn’t believe this was real. And yet there was no denying it.

After managing to redirect Teddy away from the buttons, Harry approached the receptionist.

“I’d like to see Tony Stark.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “He didn’t even introduce himself.”

Happy hummed. “Like he expected them to know him.”

The receptionist barely glanced at him.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

She looked unimpressed.

“Then you can’t see him.”

Harry didn’t react. Acceptance. Rhodey and Happy exchanged looks.What sixteen-year-old responded like that?Like he had expected this outcome.

Tony’s chest tightened. That wasn’t normal.

(Maybe he's a spy.... even if he's a spy he's my kid, I want to help him if he's stuck in a place he can't escape. What kind of kid works for the government at 15!??.

Oh my god what if he wants to escape or he needs help and that's why he came to him. What about the baby!!??)

The toddler perked up again.And in a clear, confident voice, he asked—

“Daddy, why is the lady being mean?”

Tony snorted, before mouthing 'Daddy'.

Rhodey and Happy once again stared in amusement.

On-screen, the receptionist’s face twitched.

“I—I’m not being mean.”

The toddler—Teddy, apparently—puffed out his cheeks.

“You’re not letting us in.”

The receptionist looked uncomfortable.

Harry's lips twitched. “Teddy, she’s doing her job.”

Teddy huffed.

“…Still mean.”

Happy snorted. “Oh yeah. He’s got Stark blood.”

(Harry: Ofcourse he does, I blood adopted him so no one can take him away from me.)

Tony’s heart clenched. Because Oh My God. His grandson was adorable. And also a tiny agent of chaos.

The footage jumped to when Rhodey confronted Harry. Tony and Happy watched closely. The moment Rhodey pulled Harry aside, the kid didn’t panic. Didn’t look nervous. Didn’t even seem fazed. He just observed Rhodey right back.

Happy muttered, “That’s unsettling.”

Tony nodded silently.

On-screen, the conversation played out.

Harry: “I recently found out some information that suggests I might be Stark’s biological son. I came here to request a meeting.”

Like it didn’t matter. Like he had already accepted being ignored. Now, Rhodey was questioning Harry.

“So, where do you study?”

Harry just smirked slightly.

“Edinburgh Academy for the Exceptionally Gifted.”

Rhodey, both on-screen and in real life, muttered, “Never heard of it.”

Harry’s smirk widened.

“Most people haven’t.”

Tony stared.

That was exactly the kind of smug answer he would’ve given.

Then came the moment that made Tony stop breathing when Rhodey questioned about parents.

Harry just tilted his head slightly.

Completely calm, detached—neutral—

“They’re dead.”

Silence.

On-screen, Rhodey frozen in discomfort.

And in real-time Tony felt his stomach drop. Harry didn’t even flinch. He just said it like a fact. Like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t supposed to hurt.

Tony’s hands curled into fists.

Happy rubbed his face. “Jesus.”

Because no matter what Tony had expected—

It wasn’t this.It wasn’t a kid who walked into his building alone.A kid who had zero records, no family, and no expectations.A kid who had said, “I don’t need anything.”

“Alright,” he said, voice steady. “Let’s go find my damn kid.”

Chapter Text

Tony Stark could find anyone.It was a simple fact. If someone existed, he could track them down. Period. So when he sat down in front of his screens, fingers flying across the keyboard, he fully expected to have Harry Evans’ full life story in under ten minutes.Easy.Except—He got nothing. Completely locked down.

Tony’s eye twitched.

“…FRIDAY. Explain.”

The AI responded immediately.

“This is all the information I can find.”

A dramatic pause.A beat of silence.“Wait.”

His eyes narrowed. “FRIDAY.”

“I found something about mini-boss.”

Tony's ignoring the part about mini-boss for now and groaned. “I swear I didn’t code you to be dramatic, FRIDAY. What did you find?”

FRIDAY responded smoothly. “Peter Parker’s secondary emergency contact is Harry Evans.”

Silence.Complete. Absolute. Silence.

Tony stared at the screen. Tony felt his brain overloading. Processing... Processing... Error. Tony felt dizzy.

Happy let out a low whistle. “That’s… unexpected.”

Rhodey huffed out a laugh. “Unexpected? Happy, this just turned into a whole new level of confusing.”

Peter, who had just had his suit taken away. Peter, who had just had a complete breakdown. Peter, who had needed support after the ferry disaster—Had Harry Evans listed as his secondary emergency contact. Tony’s mind raced.It meant Harry had been there.It meant Peter knew Harry. It meant Peter trusted him.

“We’re finding him. Now.”

Rhodey sighed.“No, we’re finding him tomorrow.”

Tony glared. “Excuse me?”

Rhodey gestured toward the windows. It was dark out.

“You need to process this, Tony,” Rhodey said firmly. “We all do. It’s late. Even if we find something, what are we gonna do? Show up in the middle of the night and demand answers?”

Tony clenched his jaw. “It’s not like I’m gonna sleep anyway.”

“Then don’t,” Rhodey shot back. “But take the night. Think. Process.”

Happy nodded. “He’s right, boss. If we rush into this, we’re gonna screw it up.”

“…Fine.”

Rhodey and Happy relaxed slightly.

“But first thing in the morning?” Tony muttered.

Rhodey nodded. “First thing.”

They weren't able to go the next day. The Accords committee had to come down due to the ferry incident, and Tony had to do damage control for Peter. Then Pepper and he had another fight for reasons he doesn't care about. 

(not that he doesn't care about Pepper)

Tony wanted to skip the board meeting after dealing with the Accords committee but didn't give Pepper a reason why—he didn't want anyone else to know about his son yet. Pepper didn't let go, not this time, and dragged Tony to the meeting—it was important for Tony to attend to show that SI was still strong even after the negative publicity it got after what happened in Berlin and that Tony was still strong and healthy. By the time it finished, the day ended.

And the Homecoming night started.

The Plan is Simple

Rhodey and Happy had spent all night planning. Well—Rhodey had spent all night thinking. Tony had spent all night pacing, muttering theories, and running multiple background searches that kept leading nowhere.

Happy just drank coffee and waited for the inevitable disaster.

(And coffee is our MVP)

By morning, the answer was obvious. They already knew where to start. Because if Harry Evans was Peter Parker’s emergency contact, then all they had to do was go to Peter’s home. Easy. What could go wrong?

…Plenty, as it turned out.

By the time Rhodey and Happy reached Peter’s apartment, it was late morning.

Peter was at school. Harry was at work. Only May Parker and a three-year-old child were home. May had no shift that day and  Teddy wanted to spend time with May.so Harry left Teddy with May.

Of course—they didn’t know that. yet.

Rhodey knocked on the door. The door swung open to reveal May Parker. She blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly. Rhodey and Happy immediately recognized the look. It was the same look people got when they didn’t trust the situation.

“…Can I help you?” May asked carefully.

Rhodey cleared his throat. “Hi, Ms. Parker. My name is Colonel James Rhodes, and this is Happy Hogan. We—”

“I know who you are,” May interrupted.

Rhodey paused. Happy blinked. “You do?”

May crossed her arms. “You’re War Machine, and you’re Tony Stark’s driver.”

Happy scowled. “Head of Security.”

May shrugged. “Same thing.”

Happy grumbled.

Rhodey sighed. “Right. So, uh—we were actually hoping to speak with Harry Evans”

May’s eyebrows raised. "Harry’s at work"

Rhodey and Happy exchanged looks.

Rhodey frowned. “Where does he work?”

May tilted her head.“…Why are you asking?”

Rhodey and Happy paused.

They didn’t have an excuse other than straight out saying harry Evans is Tony starks son.

Her eyes narrowed.

She crossed her arms. “Peter just lost his internship last night. And now, the next morning, two people connected to Tony Stark show up at my door, asking about Harry?”

Rhodey winced. Happy sighed. “Okay. That sounds bad.”

May didn’t react. “…Yeah,” Rhodey admitted. “That sounds bad.”

May leaned against the doorway. “So, I’ll ask again—why are you looking for Harry?”

After all there is no way she is going to betray Harry, no matter who comes knocking on the door.

A small voice interrupted. “May?” A tiny head peeked out from behind May’s legs.

Rhodey and Happy froze. Because there, staring up at them with wide, curious eyes, was a small, black-haired toddler. Rhodey’s and Happy's respective heats gave out because that was Tony’s grandson and he was adorable.

May, however, was completely normal about it. She glanced down at the kid. “What is it, Teddy?”

Teddy blinked at the two men. Then, in a perfectly innocent voice, "I KNOW YOU! WE MET YESTERDAY! DADDY CALLED YOU CONAL RODYS! ARE YOU HERE FOR DADDY?"

May glanced back up. Her eyes narrowed even further. Rhodey and Happy were too distracted to notice. Because Teddy. Was. Adorable. The kid had messy black curls, bright eyes, and an expression that was way too curious for a toddler.

Rhodey cleared his throat. “Hey, yeah—nice to meet you, kid. And it's Colonel James Rhodes.”

Teddy stared at him. He turned to May. “Are they bad guys?”

Rhodey choked. Happy looked offended. “What?! No!”

Teddy squinted at them. “…Are you sure?”

 “Yes, kid. We’re sure.”

Teddy tilted his head. “…That’s what a bad guy would say.”

Happy gawked. “Are you serious?!”

May snorted. Rhodey let out a breathless laugh. Because that was so Tony–like.

May stepped forward, blocking the doorway.

“Listen,” she said firmly. “I don’t know why you’re looking for Harry, but I don’t like surprises. So either you tell me what’s going on, or I’m closing this door.”

Rhodey sighed. "Can we wait here for harry atleast?!

Before May could answer, a tiny voice, completely unprompted said, “Are you Daddy’s friends?”

Rhodey and Happy blinked. Then looked at each other. Then back at Teddy. Happy hesitated. “Uh…”

Teddy’s eyes widened hopefully. “You are, right?”

Rhodey—the decorated war hero—felt his entire resolve shatter. “…Yeah, kid,” he found himself saying. “We are.”

Teddy grinned. “Okay!” Then, happily, “Do you wanna play with me?”

Happy grunted. Tony’s grandson was this adorable, and he was a tiny menace. Happy just shook his head.

May patted Teddy on the head. "Not this time, Teddy, today is May and Teddy day only."

Teddy beamed. "Okay!!!! MAYBE NEXT TIME, CONOLAL JEMS RHODIES!"

May turned to face them with a stern face. "I'll tell Harry you visited today. I'll ask him to contact you if he wants to. Leave your contact details."

Rhodey and Happy did just that because they didn't want to upset May, Peter, or Harry.

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Tony wanted to show around the penthouse after Dinner.

Now after getting to see the living, dinner and the rooms they finally moved to Tony's private lab.

The moment the doors parted, Teddy gasped in sheer wonder, his little fingers tightening around Harry’s hand as his wide green eyes darted around the room.

“Whoa…” Teddy breathed, tilting his head back as he took in the floor-to-ceiling windows, the glowing interface panels, and the countless pieces of tech scattered across the space.

Teddy loved new places, especially when they were big, shiny, and full of buttons. Stark Tower was all three.

“Daddy, this place looks like a spaceship!”

Harry, standing beside him with his usual composed elegance, gave an amused hum.

“It does, doesn’t it?” he murmured before glancing at Tony, who was watching them both with his usual air of casual interest.

“I assume you don’t mind a little curiosity?”

Tony smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Curiosity’s fine. Breaking expensive things? Less fine.”

He crouched slightly to Teddy’s level. “So, kiddo, how good are you at not touching things?”

Teddy blinked up at him. “…I don’t know, Grandpa Tony. I never tried.”

Harry sighed, already seeing where this was going.

Tony let out a bark of laughter. “At least you’re honest,” he said, standing up straight.

“Alright, ground rules—try not to touch anything that looks too important, and if something starts beeping, that’s usually a bad sign.”

Teddy grinned. “Got it!”

Harry wants pinch the bridge of his nose but said and did nothing.

Teddy gasped. “There are robots here!”

Tony winked. “ They are the Cool ones.”

Despite the initial agreement, it took less than five minutes before trouble found them.

Teddy had wandered over to one of Tony’s holographic workstations, where floating projections flickered and shifted with precision.

 It was glowing, moving, calling to him. With a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he stretched out a small hand and poked the nearest button.His little fingers reached out, curious—just a tiny poke—

The interface flickered wildly. Text and data scrolled at rapid speeds.

Instantly, blueprints of the Iron Man suit flickered to life above the table. Numbers, schematics, and dangerously confidential files filled the air.

Harry pinched his nose.

Tony blinked.

Teddy yelped and quickly stepped back, hiding his hands behind his back.

That was when FRIDAY’s voice chimed in, thoroughly unimpressed.

"Boss, your grandson appears to be attempting to hack into your security systems. Should I be concerned?"

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned just in time to see Teddy standing stiffly in front of the console, looking incredibly guilty.

He gave the biggest, most innocent smile he could muster. “Umm… it was an accident?”

“Teddy.” Harry’s voice was calm, but firm—the kind of tone that made it clear there were no excuses.

The little boy winced, shoulders hunching slightly. “I… I just wanted to see if I could make the blue lights move,” he admitted softly.

Harry sighed, crossing his arms. “And what’s the rule about touching things without permission?”

“…Don’t do it?”

Harry arched an eyebrow.

Teddy sighed dramatically. “Don’t do it even if it looks really cool?”

Harry nodded. “Exactly.”

Looking properly chastised, Teddy turned to Tony with his best remorseful expression. “I’m sorry, Grandpa Tony. I didn’t mean to mess up your stuff.”

Tony, who was mostly amused at the situation, waved a hand. “Eh, no harm done. Just—maybe don’t go poking glowing buttons in a genius billionaire’s tower. That’s how people end up accidentally launching things. If you had accidentally launched a missile or something, then we’d have a problem.”

Teddy gasped. “Wait, can you actually do that?!”

"Not anymore," FRIDAY quipped dryly.

Harry gave Tony a look.

Tony grinned. “Relax, it’s all locked down. Mostly.”

Teddy pouted. “I just wanted to see if I could make the blue lights move…”

Harry sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “Teddy, you cannot just—”

Tony held up a hand. “Nah, let the kid have his fun—with supervision.” He leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Besides, if he’s got an interest in tech, who better to teach him?”

Teddy perked up instantly. “Really?! You’d teach me?!”

“Sure, why not? But first, ground rules—no touching without asking, no hacking my systems, and absolutely no giving FRIDAY bad ideas.”

Teddy’s eyes sparkled. “You think I could give FRIDAY ideas?!”

FRIDAY sighed. “I respectfully request that the small one does not contribute to Stark-level chaos.”

Harry gave Tony a flat look. “You are a terrible influence.”

Tony grinned. “That’s what family’s for.”

(Damn if it didn't hit the bullseye)

Harry sighed but couldn’t entirely hide the indulgent smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"what do you like, Harry, favorite foods? anything that isn’t classified or people watching?”

Really Tony is running out of questions that can be asked without looking like he's pushing too much.

“Tea,” he said after a moment. “Good books. Sparring, when I have time.”

Tony gave him a look. “Tea, books, and sparring. You sound like a very refined secret agent.”

(Peter and Ned frantically nodding: Very True

Natasha:*approves*

Fury: He would make a goddamn good spy.

Tony: *excited* can he out spy you?!!

Fury:......

Natasha: *smirks*)

Harry smirked slightly. “I prefer ‘consultant.’”

( Harry: I'm not a secret agent.

Just an ex rebellion leader now a secret world leader)

Teddy, happily looking around, piped up, “Daddy’s really good at fighting! But he always says fighting is a last resort, so I gotta learn other things first.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Smart policy.”

Tony perked up after a bit. “You said you like science, What kind?”

Harry chuckled lightly, sipping his tea. “A bit of everything, really. I like understanding how things work.”

“Sounds like you got the Stark genes after all,” Tony mused, then grinned at Teddy. “And you, little guy? Got a favorite subject yet?”

Teddy beamed. “Art! And stories! And I wanna learn how to build cool stuff, like you!”

Tony clutched his chest dramatically. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but there was warmth in his gaze.

 “Alright, so what’s the verdict? Do we call it a night, or do we fully commit to this bonding thing with a movie?”

Teddy lit up, bouncing in his seat. “Movie!”

Harry chuckled, already expecting this. “What are you suggesting?”

Tony smirked, standing up. “Kid’s choice.”

Teddy gasped dramatically. “Any movie?!”

“Yep,” Tony confirmed. “Any movie you want, buddy.”

“Can we watch a Disney movie?!”

Tony gave him a mock-serious look. “I like the way you think, kid. FRIDAY, queue up The Lion King.”

"Classic choice, boss," FRIDAY remarked, the lights dimming as the massive screen in Tony’s home theater flickered to life.

Teddy was thrilled and immediately climbed onto the couch, settling between Tony and Harry. “Daddy, you’re gonna love it!”

Harry smirked slightly. “I’ve already seen it.”

He had seen it on a rare quiet day with Teddy and Andy.Teddy was only 6 months old, so he won't remember.It was his first time watching something without fear of being found out by his uncle

Teddy gasped in pure betrayal. “Without me?!”

“I am was a kid once too, you know,” Harry pointed out. 

(Lie. I must not tell lies. The back of his gloved left hand seemed to burn. )

Teddy huffed before settling against his father’s side, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Well, you have to watch it with me again.”

Harry smiled indulgently, running a hand through Teddy’s hair. “Of course.”

Tony watched the interaction, his heart clenching a little. Harry was a damn good dad.'I need to do my best for him too.I'll never be Harward.'

As the movie played, Teddy reacted to everything.

He gasped dramatically when Simba was introduced, cheered when Mufasa appeared, and then leaned forward with wide, fascinated eyes during “Circle of Life.”

Tony found himself more entertained by the kid than the actual movie.

He chuckled as Teddy whispered predictions to himself—

“Simba’s gonna be a great king!”

“Oooh, I don’t like that mean lion…”

“Daddy, do you think I could ride a giraffe?”

Harry hummed, keeping his expression neutral. “You can try.”

Teddy gasped again. “Does that mean yes?”

Tony snorted, shaking his head. “Kid, he just set you up for failure.”

Teddy looked between them, eyes narrowing. “I will ride a giraffe one day.”

“Sure, sport.” Tony ruffled his hair. “And I’ll build you jet boots so you don’t fall.”

Teddy gasped, completely missing the sarcasm. “Really?!”

Harry gave Tony a look.

Tony just smirked.

Then came that part of the movie.

Mufasa’s death scene.Teddy, who had been all smiles and giggles up until now, went silent.

His little hands gripped the pillow tighter, his eyes wide and heartbroken as he watched Simba desperately try to wake up his dad.

Harry, already prepared, placed a comforting hand on Teddy’s back.

Teddy sniffled, then turned to Harry with big, glassy eyes. “Why didn’t he wake up?”

Harry’s heart ached, but he kept his voice gentle. “Because sometimes… people don’t get to wake up, love. And they go up in the sky becoming beautiful shinning stars-always watching over you”

"Like grandma Andy?"."Yes, like grandma Andy." Teddy’s lower lip wobbled.

He crawled onto Harry’s lap, curling into his father’s chest for comfort. “That’s not fair. I don't want them to leave, can't they stay?”

“I know, they can't stay cub, that's why they watch over us from the stars.” Harry murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Teddy’s curls.

“It never is fair.”

Tony watched the scene unfold, his chest tightening.

(Because apparently his grandmother is dead. What about teddy's mother? If he had a grandmother he had to have a girlfriend who is teddy's mother right?Why is Harry raising his kid alone?Who raised Harry?Where did he grow up?)

Tony had no doubt that Teddy had never once questioned if he was loved.

He swallowed hard, pushing down the sharp pang of regret.'He couldn't be there like this for Harry.'

He couldn't change the past.But he could be here now.

By the time the movie ended, Teddy was completely wiped out. He yawned big, rubbing his eyes as he snuggled deeper into Harry’s chest.

“That was the best movie ever…”

Harry chuckled, running a soothing hand along his back. “Tired?” Teddy mumbled something incoherent, already half-asleep.

Tony watched them for a moment before smirking. “So, does this mean I get a ‘Cool Grandpa’ ranking?”

Teddy’s tired little voice mumbled, “...Top tier…” before drifting off entirely.

Tony grinned. “Nice.”

Harry shook his head fondly, adjusting Teddy slightly so he could stand up without waking him. “I should take him home.”

Tony hesitated for half a second before offering, “Or, you guys could crash here. You know, just to make things easier.”

Harry hesitated too, his natural instinct screaming at him to politely decline.But then he looked down at Teddy’s peaceful, sleeping face. Would it really be so bad?Harry let out a soft sigh. “Alright. Just for tonight.”

Tony tried not to look too pleased.

“Good call. You guys can take one of the guest rooms.”

FRIDAY’s voice chimed in. “I’ve already prepared it, boss.”

Harry gave the ceiling a pointed look. “Of course you have.”

Tony just grinned.

Later that night, after Teddy had been tucked into bed, Harry and Tony found themselves sitting by the window, looking out over the city skyline.

For once, there were no questions.No expectations.Just a quiet moment between a father and son who were still figuring each other out.Tony and Harry sat by the large window, looking out at the city skyline.

The usual tension that Harry carried with him—the quiet caution, the unshakable guard—felt less rigid now.

Tony glanced at him but didn’t break the silence.Surprisingly, it was Harry who eventually spoke.

“…Teddy had fun,” he said quietly. 'Me too he wants to say.'

Tony smiled, keeping his gaze forward. “Yeah. So did I.”

Harry hummed softly, sipping his tea. “… he likes you.” 'I think I like you too.'

Tony smirked. “I am pretty great.”

Harry huffed a small laugh, shaking his head.

They sat there in companionable quiet—two men who had lost time, both hesitant yet secretly hopeful that this was the start of something real.

Chapter Text

Peter had been waiting. Because obviously, Harry’s dinner with Tony was a big deal. And obviously, he needed details.

So, lying in bed, still sore from patrol, he picked up his phone and texted.

Peter: Soooo… how was dinner with Stark?

Seconds later—

Harry: It was fine.

Peter squinted. Really? That was it?

Peter huffed and texted again.

Peter: That’s all I get? ‘It was fine’?

Peter: Dude!!! I need the details and why is Mr. Stark intrested in you- your not going to be invited to avengers right?!. because that's cool, you would be a good hero.

Harry: That's all you get and No, he didn't want to meet me to invite me into the Avengers.

Harry: Are you injured?

Peter froze. Then quickly typed—

Peter: Whaaat? Nooo. Why would you think that?

Harry: Go to sleep, Peter. And i better not find that was a lie.

Peter groaned. Because of course Harry was more concerned about injuries than gossip. Still—

Peter: So no crazy drama?

Harry: Go. To. Sleep.

Peter sighed. But just before putting his phone down—

Peter: …Did Teddy like him?

Harry: Yes.

Peter grinned. That meant everything.

Peter (to May): It seems everything went fine. Harry says Teddy likes Mr.Stark.

May(in a late night shift): That's good. Why are you still awake go to sleep.

Peter groaned.

Peter: I swear Harry and you are so similar sometimes.

Peter: Fine I'm going back to sleep.

Peter: Good night.

And with that thought, he finally went to sleep.

Harry was up early. It was a habit, ingrained from years of waking up at the crack of dawn out of necessity. Even now, when life had finally settled into something less chaotic, his body still insisted on greeting the sun before anyone else.

So, naturally, he found himself in Tony Stark’s high-tech kitchen, preparing breakfast before anyone else had stirred. Despite the state-of-the-art appliances surrounding him, he stuck to a simple but well-balanced meal. Scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, golden-brown toast, and a side of fresh fruit. He even made blueberry pancakes for Teddy, knowing his son would be excited.

It was exactly what Tony had said he liked for breakfast—especially blueberry pancakes—when they’d had dinner the night before.

Harry blinked, processing. Huh. Maybe some subconscious part of him had picked up on it. Or maybe—just maybe—he was already getting used to the idea of family with Tony in it.

Tony woke up and followed a delicious smell coming from the kitchen and was surprised to find Harry cooking breakfast.

Harry turned, smiling at Tony. "I woke up early and made breakfast for all of us. Hope you don't mind."

"Mind? I don't mind even if you make breakfast every day, it smells delicious and oh my god! Is that blueberry pancakes?! They are my favourite!. Forget about working as a consultant, become my chef instead."

(Or forget about working at all, move in with me. But he doesn't say that. Not now at least. He really wants to ask where he learnt cooking but keeps mum about that too. But Tony files everything away. From, Harry's work as a supposed consultant, his wary demeanor, his extreme competency, his supposed involvement with taking down terrorists, him being emancipated at 13, his zero records, to how he interacts with Teddy.)

Harry huffed a laugh. But said nothing.

A loud thump came from the hallway, followed by the rapid patter of little feet. Seconds later, Teddy came barreling into the kitchen, his messy curls bouncing as he ran straight for Tony, still groggy and standing near the counter.

“Grandpa!” Teddy leaped.

Tony barely had a second to react before he suddenly had an armful of an overexcited four-year-old. "Oof!" Tony caught Teddy just in time, his hands instinctively going under the boy’s arms to support him. His brain? Full system failure.

Teddy beamed, completely oblivious to Tony’s internal crisis. “Good morning!”

Tony, meanwhile, was internally panicking. What do I do? Am I holding him right? Why is he so small? HELP.

Harry, who had been plating the food, immediately noticed the distress on Tony’s face. “Relax,” he said, grinning slightly. “You’re not holding a bomb.”

Tony shot him a look. “You sure? Because I feel like I need a manual for this.”

Harry walked over, giving Teddy a fond look before adjusting Tony’s hold on him. “Here. Support his back a bit more—yeah, like that. And don’t overthink it. He’s not going to break.”

Tony hesitated for half a second before shifting his grip as instructed. …Okay. This wasn’t so bad.

Teddy, in all his unbothered glory, just grinned and leaned his head against Tony’s shoulder.

Tony? Full emotional meltdown.

He cleared his throat, looking away as if that would help him ignore the warmth spreading in his chest. “You trust me to hold him?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Harry’s expression softened, “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let him jump on you.” And playfully bumped their shoulders as a comforting gesture.

Tony went still. That meant something. And promptly buried his face in Teddy's curls to hide his smile.

Pepper Potts walked in. She was dressed impeccably as always, tablet in hand, her expression all business. She had walked into Stark Tower expecting to deal with yet another round of Tony’s inevitable chaos, but somehow, that chaos had taken a completely unexpected turn.

“Tony, you have a meeting in an hour,” she started, barely glancing up from her screen. “If you’re late again, the board will—”

She finally looked up and froze. Because Tony Stark—her boss, her ex, her best friend, the man who had way too much chaos in his life—was standing there… holding a small child. A child who, if Pepper did the mental math, was the right age to have been conceived during their relationship.

The pieces clicked together in the worst way possible. Her face went blank.

She said coolly, setting the tablet down with controlled precision. “I’ll have my resignation on your desk by the end of the day.”

Tony blinked. “Wait, what?!”

Pepper folded her arms, her expression eerily calm. “I assume you’d prefer to handle this… situation privately, considering the timing.”

Harry was highly amused but seeing the rising panic in Tony’s eyes, decided to intervene. So he said smoothly, “Teddy isn’t Tony’s son. He’s mine.”

Pepper’s eyebrows twitched, her carefully constructed composure slipping. “What?”

Harry, still very much enjoying this, let the words sink in before delivering the final blow. “I’m Tony’s son.”

He admits it . Tony felt warm . This means progress right? If he's willing to announce it aloud even if it's only to Pep.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Pepper stared at them, clearly unsure whether to laugh, cry, or completely reevaluate her entire life. Because Tony became a grandfather, not just a father. She expected a kid but not a grandkid. ' And why is Tony's kid who looks like 15 something has a son? A teenage dad!! What about his girlfriend? Family? But looking at Tony's pleading look, she stopped herself from questioning.'

"Harry Evans and my son is Edward Evans, nicknamed Teddy. It's nice to meet the great Pepper Potts."

Pepper finally sighed, "Just call me Pepper." She turned to Tony. “Tony… I don’t even know where to start.”

Harry half smirked and half grinned.

Teddy, meanwhile, chose that exact moment to yawn dramatically and snuggle closer to Tony’s chest. Pepper’s gaze softened slightly at the sight.

“…You’re a grandfather,” she murmured, still reeling, shaking her head and teasing. “How does that feel?”

Tony groaned.

Pepper sighed again but smiled faintly. “Well. I suppose I won’t be resigning after all.”

Tony exhaled dramatically. “Oh, thank God.”

She had been ready to resign. Now, she was standing here, watching Tony Stark—her former boss, ex-boyfriend, and the most emotionally stunted genius on the planet—holding a tiny child who had just called him Grandpa. And, the kid’s father? Tony’s teenage son.

Yeah. That was a lot to take in before breakfast.

Which was exactly why, when Harry—still looking far too amused at the entire situation—gestured towards the breakfast table and said, “You might as well sit and eat with us,” she almost refused on instinct.

But then—

“Please stay!”

Teddy, bright-eyed and smiling, turned his full, devastating attention on her.

And Pepper Potts, the woman who had survived Tony Stark’s most ridiculous antics without flinching, felt her entire heart melt in real-time.

“…Okay,” she heard herself say, before she could even think about it.

Sitting down at the table, Pepper was immediately presented with a tiny plate of pancakes. Teddy beamed at her, practically bouncing in his seat. “I asked Daddy put extra blueberries in them! They’re the best!”

Harry, sipping his coffee, snorted. "You demanded it."

Teddy pouted. “Same thing.”

Pepper, already resigned to her fate, muttered to Tony, “He’s definitely your grandson.”

Tony felt like floating then . Is it possible to fall in love at the first meeting? He always thought love at first sight belongs only to lovers and he didn't even think it was possible. Why did no one warn him?

Pepper couldn’t help but smile as she took a bite. And, okay, The pancakes were good. She glanced at Teddy, who was watching her with expectant excitement.

“…You were right,” she told him, warmth creeping into her voice. “These are definitely the best.”

Teddy’s face lit up.

Harry, catching the look in Pepper’s eyes, grinned. Hook, line, and sinker. Teddy 1. Pepper 0.

Somewhere between Teddy explaining the very important difference between different kinds of syrup and insisting Pepper try at least one of his strawberries, Tony realized that Pepper was doomed.

He had never seen her this soft before. And he knew, knew, that she was completely, utterly enchanted. It was a little alarming how easily Teddy won people over. Tony wasn’t even sure if Teddy knew he was doing it on purpose or if it was just pure, natural chaos.

Either way? Pepper Potts, Queen of Composure, was laughing at Teddy’s little stories.

And Tony, Yeah. He was definitely losing his most competent ally to a four-year-old.

Tony groaned. “FRIDAY, remind me to update my will. Apparently, I need to leave everything to my grandson.”

Harry's felt his heart stutter because even if that was a joke, from people like Tony, he was seriously considering Teddy as family. Harry felt unusually happy, it means Teddy has more family. He doesn't care about wills too much. Not when everything Harry owns will go do Teddy. Unlike him, Teddy will never have to worry about money.

( Harry dreaded the day Teddy inherits everything because it's the day the world is doomed for good. After all Teddy is the son of a marauder.)

FRIDAY’s voice chimed in, far too amused. "Noted, Boss."

Pepper just shook her head, smiling.

Teddy just giggled, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just effortlessly stolen another heart.

They didn't talk much; Harry had to go to work, Teddy to daycare. Tony and Pepper had meetings to attend. They parted ways with the promise of meeting again.

That evening Harry finally told May, Peter and Ned why Tony wanted to meet. The freak out was to be expected. It took a while with Harry explaining that he recently found out and wanted to have Tony informed with a tiny hope that Teddy can have a grandfather, before the calmed down.

(Meanwhile Rhodey (in despair): When will I enter the scene again?! Did I get forgotten? Hello!!. Did no one remember me?

Happy: Sympathetic Pats his shoulder in comfort.)

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Chapter Text

Tony sat in the lab, idly twisting a screwdriver between his fingers, lost in thought.

Peter’s words from earlier still echoed in his head—Harry was a doctor, lawyer, ninja in their eyes. And somehow, despite knowing his kid for a while now, Tony knew none of that.

Well, except for the ninja part. Harry definitely had that whole silent, elegant, probably-dangerous thing going on.

He wanted to know more. But not the deep, painful stuff—not yet. He just wanted to get to know his son.

Tony sighed, then made up his mind. He walked to the common area, where Harry was sitting with a book and a cup of tea, exuding his usual quiet, refined presence. Teddy was curled up next to him, happily coloring.

(Today was the fourth day from time they first met and he asked Harry to come to the tower and apart from the second day where they had breakfast together, Harry didn't go to work the following days, he readily agreed to come to the tower whenever he asked)

“Hey, kid,” Tony greeted, leaning against the couch. “Got a minute?”

Harry glanced up, mildly surprised. “Sure.” He marked his page and set the book aside.

Tony hesitated for half a second, then sat across from him. “I was thinking… I don’t actually know a lot about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’d say that’s fair.”

Tony huffed. “Wow. Brutal.”

Harry smirked slightly.

“I just mean—look, no pressure or anything, but I’d like to change that. So how about we start small? What do you like?” Tony asked, waving a hand vaguely. “Anything?”

Harry tilted his head, considering the question. “I like tea.”

Tony groaned. “Wow. Groundbreaking.”

The corner of Harry’s lips twitched. “I read a lot,” he continued. “History, strategy, some philosophy. And science.”

Tony perked up. “science?”

Harry hesitated for a split second. “Yeah. I think it's intresting but I'm not an expert in it.”

Tony hummed. “Alright, alright, you’re a bookworm and a thrill-seeker. Got it. What else?”

Harry sipped his tea before answering. “I cook. I prefer quiet places. I enjoy working with my hands—crafting, fixing things.”

(Mostly using magic)

Tony grinned. “Now that I can work with. You ever build anything?”

Harry nodded. “A few things.”

“Like?”

Harry exhaled a quiet laugh. “That depends. Are we counting things that explode?”

(Again using magic.)

Tony barked out a laugh. “Kid, you’re my son, alright.”

The conversation flowed more easily after that, the usual guardedness in Harry’s posture subtly easing. Teddy, apparently done with his coloring, climbed into Harry’s lap, listening quietly.

“Alright, favorite subjects in school?” Tony asked next.

Harry glanced down at Teddy, absentmindedly fixing his slightly messy hair before answering. “History, mostly. But I liked Defense—ah, self-defense, I mean. Helps me with my profession".

Tony noticed how Harry corrected himself mid-sentence, but didn’t push. “So… basically, you liked learning how to outthink and outfight people?”

Harry smiled slightly. “I suppose so.”

Tony smirked. “Okay, remind me to never make you mad.”

“I’ll try.”

It was easy—natural, even. For once, they weren’t dealing with awkward introductions, unspoken questions, or unsaid things hovering in the air.

They were just talking.

And Tony, for the first time in a long time, felt like he was actually getting to know his son.

The comfortable air between them lingered, and Tony wasn’t about to let it slip away.

Harry was relaxed—or at least, as close to relaxed as Tony had ever seen him. That was a win.

“So, any fun stories from school?” Tony asked, leaning back.

“You know, before you graduated early and became a consultant to special forces at sixteen?” He shot Harry a pointed look.

Harry huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, sure. So, any good ones?”

Helped take down a terrorist organisation by being at the wrong place at the wrong time?Like hell he'll believe it. But Tony doesn't push it.Not when Harry is opening up.

Harry hummed, thinking. “Well… there was this one time my friend and I accidentally set a professor on fire.”

Tony nearly choked on his drink. “I—what?”

Harry chuckled. “It was an accident. There was this teacher—strict, all about rules. One of our classmates played a prank that went wrong, and somehow, the professor’s cloak caught fire.”

Teddy gasped. “Did he turn to ash like in cartoons?”

Harry ruffled his hair. “No, thankfully. We managed to put it out before it did any real damage, but my friend and I were right there, so of course, we got blamed.”

Tony smirked. “Let me guess. Detention?”

“Two weeks,” Harry confirmed.

“Oof. Harsh.”

Harry shook his head. “That wasn’t even the worst one. There was also the rogue cat incident.”

“Oh, this I have to hear.” Tony grinned.

Harry leaned back, smirking. “A friend of mine—who was very against rules, by the way—snuck a stray cat into our dorm. No one noticed for a week. Until one morning, it escaped, ran straight into the teacher’s lounge, knocked over a potio—I mean, a chemistry set—”

Tony raised a brow at that but let it slide.

“—and caused a minor explosion. It took three professors to catch the cat, and my friend spent a month in detention.”

Teddy giggled. “Was the cat okay?”

“Oh, perfectly fine,” Harry assured him. “It actually ended up becoming the school’s unofficial mascot.”

Tony shook his head, grinning.

Harry smirked. “That’s only the tip of the iceberg

Tony narrowed his eyes, but there was amusement behind them. “Y’know, every time you tell me something about your life, it sounds less like a school and more like a battlefield.”

(Damn he hit the nail on the head.If only he knows.)

Harry just smiled, taking a sip of his tea. “I had… an interesting education.”

Tony was sure there was way more to these stories than Harry was telling him. But for now, he’d take what he could get. Because Harry was talking. Laughing, even.

Tony was hooked. The more Harry talked, the more ridiculous his school life sounded.

What kind of school was this?

He didn't even hear about it, only that it's super elite and exclusive that only selected can join. They don't even allow Internet in the schoo, completely hidden.Which is suspicious as hell.

(Ned: It's definitely a spy school.

Peter: agreed.

Natasha (to clint) : Let's dismantle it then.

Harry: YOU ARE NOT DESTROYING MY SCHOOL

Tony: we aren't asking permission.)

Tony leaned back in his chair, grinning as he watched Harry. His kid—was actually talking, telling stories without that usual guarded edge. And man, his stories were wild.

“So,” Tony said, smirking, “your school had fire professors and rogue cats. What else?”

Teddy perked up. “Tell the one about the pudding!”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “The pudding?”

Harry sighed but chuckled. “Alright. So, in my third year, there was a massive food fight in the cafeteria—”

“Oh, this is already good,” Tony muttered.

“—and someone—still don’t know who—thought it would be funny to switch out the custard for extra-sticky gelatin pudding.”

“It got everywhere!”

Teddy giggled.

“It was chaos. Imagine an entire cafeteria trying to run while stepping in superglue pudding. People were stuck to chairs, trays, even the floor.”

Tony wheezed. “You mean to tell me someone booby-trapped the school with pudding?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said. “We had to be rescued by the janitor—who was furious, by the way. Took forever to clean up.”

Tony shook his head in disbelief. “I knew school food was a crime, but that takes the cake.”

Teddy giggled. “Harry got pudding in his hair!”

Tony burst out laughing. “Oh, I need to see that.”

Harry gave him a flat look. “Unfortunately, there are no pictures.”

“Damn. Tragic loss.”

Harry smirked. “At least it wasn’t as bad as the haunted bathroom.”

Tony nearly choked. “The what?”

Harry sipped his tea innocently. “One of the bathrooms was… let’s say out of order. There were all these weird pipes issues—every time someone went in, the sinks would randomly turn on, or toilets would flush by themselves.”

Teddy nodded seriously. “And sometimes, people swore they heard voices.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Okay, pause. Are you telling me your school had possessed plumbing?”

Harry smirked. “Let’s just say no one went in there unless they had to.”

Tony shook his head. “I swear, the more I hear about your school, the more I think it should’ve been shut down.”

Harry just grinned. “ You think that was bad? Let me tell you about the great stair collapse of Year Two.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry—the what?”

Harry shrugged like it was normal.

“There was this really old staircase in one of the towers. Everyone knew it wasn’t the sturdiest, but the school insisted it was fine. Until one day, in the middle of rush hour, the whole middle section just… collapsed.”

Tony blinked. “You mean to tell me a staircase just gave up with students on it?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said. “It turned into a slide. Five people crashed at the bottom, and one guy actually got stuck in a wall.”

Tony ran a hand down his face. “Your school had zero safety regulations.”

“None whatsoever,” Harry confirmed.

“And instead of closing it down, they just put up a sign that said ‘Use at Your Own Risk.’”

Tony for the first time was speechless.

“That’s not a warning, that’s a threat.”

Teddy giggled. “Tell about the pumpkin incident!”

Tony looked between them. “Why do I feel like I need to hear this?”

Harry sighed, but his smirk was pure amusement.

“So, every fall, we had this huge harvest festival. The teachers would bring in decorations, food, everything. One year, someone thought it’d be funny to replace all the normal pumpkins with rotting ones.”

Tony grimaced. “Ugh.”

“Oh, it gets worse,” Harry said.

“See, these weren’t normal rotting pumpkins. They were so bad that if you touched them, they’d explode.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

Harry nodded. “One student picked one up, and boom—pumpkin guts everywhere.”

Teddy was grinning.

“It smelled so bad.”

Tony winced. “I take it this set off a chain reaction?”

Harry grinned. “Oh yeah. The teachers tried to move them, but every time they did, another one would go off. By the end of it, the whole cafeteria looked like a pumpkin murder scene.”

Tony wheezed. “I—who did this?”

“No one ever confessed,” Harry said, shrugging. “The principal lost it—he started ranting about ‘irresponsible hooligans’ while covered in pumpkin mush.”

Tony shook his head. “Your school wasn’t a school, it was a survival course.”

(Understatement)

Harry smirked. “Pretty much.”

Tony chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched Teddy cuddle into Harry’s side.

He still didn’t know everything about his son, but one thing was very clear—

Harry’s life had never been normal.

Tony wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing

 “Alright, alright, tell me—was there ever a year at your school that wasn’t complete insanity?”

Harry hummed, pretending to think. “Nope.”

Teddy giggled. “Never ever!”

Tony groaned. “Figures. Alright, you got any more? What else happened at this cursed school?Because so far, your school sounds insane”

Harry chuckled. “Oh, absolutely. We had the worst luck, my friends and I.”

Harry smirked. “There was the Great Library Fire of Year Four.”

Harry scoffed. “Excuse you, I didn’t set anything on fire.”

Tony crossed his arms. “Uh-huh. I feel like you have a very loose definition of ‘I didn’t do it.’”

Harry smirked. “Okay, fine. I was there. But technically, it was an accident.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that.”

Harry shrugged. “See, we had this one teacher who hated anyone making noise in the library. One day, some students were—well, not quiet—and she lost it. In her frustration, she knocked over an old oil lamp.”

Tony blinked. “Why did your school have oil lamps?”

Harry sighed. “You’re asking the wrong questions, Tony.”

“Okay, fine,” Tony said, rubbing his forehead. “Continue.”

Harry smirked. “So, the lamp fell. The rug caught fire. Chaos ensued. People were screaming, running, throwing books—someone tried to beat the fire out with a chair.”

Teddy nodded seriously. “It didn’t work.”

Tony's eye twitched. “They made it worse, didn’t they?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said. “By the time the fire was out, half the room was covered in soot, and the teacher tried to blame us.”

Tony looked personally offended. “She started the fire and blamed the students?”

“Yup.”

Tony sighed. “This school, man.”

Teddy grinned. “It was awesome.”

Tony shook his head. “I don’t know whether to be horrified or impressed.”

Harry chuckled. “That’s the standard reaction.”

Tony leaned back, smirking. “Alright, give me one more. What’s the craziest thing that happened?”

Harry hesitated for a moment before his lips twitched. “Alright. Ever heard of exploding cupcakes?”

Tony stared at him. “No. No, I have not, because normal schools don’t have exploding cupcakes, Harry.”

Harry’s smirk widened. “Well, mine did.”

Teddy nodded enthusiastically. “Boom!”

Tony groaned. “Okay. Explain.”

Harry leaned back, casually sipping his tea. “It was during a big school event. Someone—still no idea who—thought it’d be funny to fill cupcakes with baking soda and vinegar.”

Tony covered his face. “I—your school was a war zone.”

Harry just grinned. “Like I said—never a dull moment.”

Tony shook his head, watching as Teddy giggled into Harry’s side. 

Harry’s life had been ridiculously chaotic.

(Those who knew Harry: snort understatement of the century)

Tony was still reeling. “I just—how did your school not get shut down? Like, genuinely, how did it pass safety inspections? Did it even have safety inspections?”

Harry smirked. “Honestly? Probably not. Or if it did, someone was really good at covering things up.”

Teddy giggled. “It was fun!”

Tony groaned. “Of course, you think so.”

Harry thought for a moment before his lips twitched. “Okay. Ever heard of The Great Hall Ceiling Incident?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “No, but based on what I’ve heard so far, I’m gonna assume it wasn’t minor.”

Harry chuckled. “You assume correctly.”

Teddy nodded enthusiastically. “It was so cool.”

Harry leaned back, smirking. “Alright. So, the ceiling in our school’s dining hall was designed to look like the sky outside. It was usually harmless.”

“Usually,” Tony repeated. “Meaning at some point, it wasn’t?”

Harry grinned. “Exactly. One day, something malfunctioned. Instead of just showing the weather, it started acting like it.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Wait—wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me—”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said. “Suddenly, the inside of the hall had wind, rain, and lightning.”

Tony gaped. “You ate lunch in a storm?”

“We tried,” Harry said.

“It didn’t go well. Someone’s entire plate got blown away. A kid got hit in the face with flying toast.”

Teddy cackled. “Boom! Splat!”

Tony clutched his chest, laughing. “I cannot with this school—why did they not evacuate?”

Harry shrugged. “Oh, they tried. But then it got worse.”

Tony stared. “How?”

Harry smirked. “Hail.”

Tony choked. “Hail?”

“Golf-ball sized,” Harry said casually.

“People were hiding under tables while staff ran around in a panic.”

Tony leaned back, covering his face with his hands. “I—this is so unsafe—”

Harry snorted.

“The best part? The headmaster just walked in, looked around at the chaos, and went, ‘Ah. Unfortunate,’ before sitting down and having his tea.”

Tony gaped. “HE DID WHAT?”

Harry nodded. “Didn’t even flinch. Just casually sipped tea while we were getting pelted with ice.”

Teddy gasped. “Grandpa Tony, your face is so red!”

Tony pointed dramatically at Harry. “You—you are never sending Teddy to that school. Ever.”

(Harry watched Tony's reaction with amazement.

He never thought Tony would be this angry.

Something broken inside him started healing.

Ah. He's already a goner.

Tony Stark dug himself into his heart and built a house there becoming a permanent resident.)

Teddy pouted. “But—but—”

“No buts,” Tony said firmly.

“I refuse to let you get taken out by rogue toast and flying hail.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Relax, Tony. I was fine. Mostly.”

Tony groaned. “You are so lucky I didn’t know you back then, or I would’ve had a heart attack.”

Harry's heart clenched, this time with longing.

Harry smirked. “But then you would’ve missed out on all these fun stories.”

Tony huffed. “You and I have very different definitions of ‘fun.’”

(Tony thinks this is karma. Is this how Happy, Rhodey and Pepper felt. He has new respect for them)

Teddy tugged on Tony’s sleeve. “But Grandpa Tony, it’s funny.”

Tony sighed, ruffling Teddy’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah, kiddo. It’s funny now. But your dad was basically living in an action movie at all times.”

Harry grinned. “That’s an accurate summary, actually.”

Tony just shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

Harry’s smile turned mischievous. “Oh, Tony. Have I ever told you about the Exploding Pumpkin Juice Prank War?”

Tony immediately groaned. “I already regret asking.”

Teddy giggled excitedly. “It's a story so awesome!”

Tony took a deep breath.

“Okay. Let’s hear it. What in the absolute hell happened with this… Exploding Pumpkin Juice Prank War?”

Harry smirked, leaning back like he was about to share the best gossip in the world.

Teddy was practically vibrating in excitement, already giggling before the story even started.

“Alright,” Harry said. “So, my school was full of two types of people: those who lived for absolute chaos, and those who suffered because of it.”

Tony groaned. “Why do I already know which category you were in?”

Harry ignored him. “One day, some brilliant—” he used air quotes, “—students decided to start something. A little, harmless prank.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “I doubt very much that it was harmless.”

“Oh, it was at first,” Harry said.

“Someone just ench—er, rigged a few pumpkin juice bottles so that when you took a sip, it made a funny noise—like a duck quacking.”

Tony blinked. “I—okay, that’s actually kind of funny.”

“Oh, it was hilarious,” Harry said.

“Until someone—who shall remain unnamed—decided that wasn’t enough.”

Teddy giggled. “Boom boom juice!”

Tony’s eyes widened in horror. “Boom boom juice? Oh, hell no. I don’t like where this is going.”

Harry grinned. “It escalated quickly. The next day, more juice was tampered with. Instead of just making sounds, it started changing colors, making people’s teeth blue or turning their tongues green.”

Tony snorted. “Okay, still not terrible.”

Harry nodded.

“Yeah. But then it kept going. People started adding fizzing agents so that the juice would start foaming up and spilling everywhere when someone tried to drink it.”

Teddy clapped his hands. “Like a volcano!”

“Exactly, Teddy,” Harry said, ruffling his hair.

Tony sighed. “Alright. So some kids got creative with their soda. Big deal.”

Harry smirked. “Yeah, but then it really got out of hand.”

“One particularly creative individual decided to set booby traps,” Harry said, eyes twinkling.

“If you didn’t drink the juice, it would randomly explode the moment you picked it up.”

Tony choked. “Exploding drinks?”

“Tiny explosions,” Harry assured. “Just enough to make a mess, not hurt anyone.”

Teddy giggled. “Sticky! Everywhere!”

“Oh, it was,” Harry agreed.

“Within hours, the entire dining hall turned into warfare. People were suspicious of every single drink on the table.”

Tony gaped. “You lunatics turned lunchtime into a psychological thriller where no one knew if their drink was safe?”

Harry nodded, grinning. “Pretty much. I watched grown adults stare at their drinks like they were defusing a bomb.”

Tony wheezed. “I—this school was insane.”

“Oh, the best part?” Harry said, eyes gleaming. “One of the teachers—who thought they were being smart—brought their own sealed drink.”

Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And?”

Harry’s smirk turned wicked. “Someone swapped it when they weren’t looking.”

Tony gasped. “No.”

“Oh yes,” Harry said. “So there we were. Dead silent. The entire hall watching as this very serious, no-nonsense professor took a sip of their totally safe drink.”

Teddy bounced. “And then—BAM!”

Tony leaned forward, fascinated despite himself. “What happened?”

“The juice erupted,” Harry said dramatically. “Like an orange geyser, straight into their face.”

Tony burst out laughing. “No—no way!”

“Oh, way,” Harry said. “They just sat there. Dripping in sticky pumpkin juice. Completely silent. The whole hall was waiting—we all knew we were doomed.”

Tony wiped a tear from his eye. “What did they do?”

Harry grinned. “They sighed, calmly put their cup down, and said, ‘I hope you children are proud of yourselves.’”

Tony howled with laughter. “I love this professor!”

“Oh, everyone did,” Harry said. “They were the best.”

“Well, kid,” he said, “I think you just convinced me your school was absolutely terrifying.”

(Kid.

Harry swallowed. The last time someone called me that was sirius.)

Teddy giggled, sitting up. “Daddy tell fire story!”

Harry leaned back, eyes gleaming with amusement. “So, picture this: It was one of those rare days where everything at school was actually… calm.”

Tony snorted. “Unlikely.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, pointing at him. “Which is why, of course, things went to hell within the hour.”

Teddy nodded very seriously. “Boom.”

Tony put his face in his hands. “Oh, God.”

Harry grinned.

“So, there was this one student—bit of a disaster—who was absolutely terrible at chemistry. And by terrible, I mean legendary levels of incompetence.”

Tony perked up. “Oh, this is already great. Continue.”

“So,” Harry said, “they were working on a very basic experiment—something so simple, a child could do it. But somehow, they miscalculated, and their solution burst into flames.”

Tony cackled. “Oh, that’s classic.”

Harry nodded. “It was. Except, instead of calmly handling the situation, they panicked and knocked over the entire table of chemicals.”

Tony’s laughter halted. “Wait—hold on.”

“Boom!” Teddy cheered.

Harry grinned. “The entire classroom went up in flames.”

Tony stared. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Harry said. “

There was fire everywhere. People were screaming, desks were melting, and I was standing there wondering how the hell a simple assignment turned into a scene from an action movie.”

Tony wheezed. “Oh my God—how did you survive school?”

“Miraculously,” Harry said dryly.

“But the best part? The professor just sighed, pulled out a fire extinguisher, and casually put out the flames like it was a normal Tuesday.”

Harry said, laughing. “They were just so done with us.”

Teddy nodded sagely. “Teacher very tired.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Harry agreed.

Tony wiped a tear from his eye. “Alright. But be honest—how many times were you the one setting things on fire?”

Harry paused. “...Define many.”

Tony groaned. 

(This is definitely karma. He really needs to apologise to Rhodey, Happy and Pepper.)

Teddy, completely unbothered, clapped his hands. “More stories! More stories!”

Harry chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair.

“Alright, alright. How about the time someone accidentally dyed the entire school’s laundry neon pink?”

Tony perked up. “Wait, that actually happened?”

“Oh, it absolutely did,” Harry said, grinning.

“And let me tell you, I have never seen a group of grown adults look so done with life.”

Tony smirked. “Okay. I need details.”

Teddy cheered. “PINK CLOTHES STORY!”

Tony leaned back, shaking his head. “Alright, I need to know—who was responsible for the pink laundry disaster?”

Harry smirked. “Oh, you’re gonna love this—it was absolutely not an accident.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “A sabotage mission?”

“More like revenge,” Harry corrected.

“See, there was this one absolute menace of a student—rich, entitled, thought they owned the place. They always bullied other students, but since their family had connections, they never got in trouble.”

Tony groaned. “Ugh, those types.”

Harry nodded. “Exactly. Anyway, one day, they pushed the wrong person too far. This one student—let’s call them ‘Mischief Master’—decided enough was enough.”

Teddy clapped. “Mischief!”

“Exactly, Teddy,” Harry said, grinning.

“So, Mischief Master sneaks into the laundry room—somehow—and dumps an industrial-grade bottle of bright pink dye into the washing machines.”

Tony snorted. “Oh, I like them.”

“Oh, it gets better,” Harry said, eyes twinkling.

“See, they timed it perfectly so that every single piece of clothing belonging to that one student got dyed.”

“No. No way.”

Harry nodded. “Way. Every uniform, every expensive designer jacket, even their gym socks—neon pink.”

Teddy gasped dramatically. “Everything?!”

“Everything,” Harry confirmed.

“And the best part? The student had no choice but to wear their gloriously pink wardrobe for weeks, because they weren’t allowed to replace everything immediately.”

Tony lost it. “That is the pettiest and most beautiful thing I have ever heard.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, Mischief Master was never caught, but they became a legend.”

Teddy bounced excitedly. “PINK LEGEND!”

Harry laughed, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “Exactly, kiddo.”

Tony wiped at his eyes, still laughing. “Okay, but be honest—were you Mischief Master?”

Harry gave him an innocent look. “Tony, I would never commit such a crime.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “That’s not a no.”

Harry smirked. “It’s also not a yes.”

Tony pointed at him. “You’re so guilty.”

Teddy nodded sagely. “Daddy very sneaky.”

Harry chuckled, leaning back into the couch as Teddy nestled against him.

The room was still filled with lingering laughter, but something had shifted—the air felt lighter, warmer.

Tony watched as Harry absentmindedly ran a hand through Teddy’s curls, a soft, content expression on his face. I

t was such a small thing, but Tony felt something in his chest ache.

He’d missed so much.

For all Harry’s refinement and guardedness, he was still just a kid—one who had seen too much, carried too much, and somehow ended up raising a child of his own at an age where he should have been worrying about school dances and late homework.

And yet, here he was—telling stories, making Teddy laugh, and letting Tony in, just a little bit.

Tony cleared his throat, pulling himself together. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. I said it earlier but your school was objectively insane.”

Harry smirked. “Took you this long?”

“I was in denial,” Tony admitted. “But now? Now I need to meet some of these people.”

Harry chuckled. “I’d say ‘good luck,’ but… let’s just say most of them aren’t exactly reachable anymore.”

Tony frowned, but he let it go. Now wasn’t the time to push.

Harry hummed. “Well, considering it was in a castle, that probably helped the atmosphere.”

Tony blinked. “…A castle?”

Harry smirked. “Yup.”

Tony stared at him. “Are you—wait, hold on—you lived in a castle?”

Harry nodded casually. “Mhm. Very old, lots of history. Bit drafty. Probably haunted.”

Tony looked personally offended that this information was just now being revealed.

“You mean to tell me that I’ve been sitting here listening to your ridiculous school stories and not once did you think to mention that it was all happening inside a castle?!”

Harry shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal.”

Tony gaped. “Not a—not a big deal?! Who goes to school in a castle?!”

Teddy gasped. “Does it have dragons?!”

Harry chuckled. “No dragons, bud.”

(Dragons in Hogwarts was a one time thing)

Teddy pouted.

Tony ran a hand down his face. “I swear, every time I think I have a grasp on your life, you just drop another ridiculous fact like it’s nothing.”

Harry smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”

Tony groaned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Teddy tugged on Tony’s sleeve. “Can we go to castle?”

Harry ruffled his curls. “Sorry, bud, no visitors allowed.”

Teddy huffed. “No fair.”

Tony muttered, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Although,Tony already made a mental list to see where it is and if possible visit. Who would deny Tony Stark?

(Only if he knew)

Tony reached over, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “Alright, Mini Mischief. You got any dirt on your Daddy?”

This was turning into a great day.

Chapter Text

Harry was happy.

He was really happy. The night was going great. He's trying to get close to Tony and Teddy was having fun. But like any other time when things are going well-

His felt some one calling him urgently through his magic.

It's a handy spell he uses as emergency call button. when someone breakes a tiny glass figurine of a stag he specifically made for this purpose and gave to a small number of people. Each stage gives sends different songs.This perticular call is from Kingsley.

That means it's important if it's coming from Minister For Magic.

Yes, you heard it right it's now called Minister For Magic not Ministry of Magic.

After Voldemort none of the students who got traumatized let their parents agree to hypocrisy. They refused to be blind.

Traditions were brought back. Unreasonably outlawed magic became lawful. Dark cores are not longer cursed- after all dark magic is not black magic. Blood-status no longer matter, not when blood adoption exists. Muggle borns were proven to be descendents of pure blood lines. Magical orphanages were created. Muggle born parents were monitored. Magical primary school was built. Hogwarts was renovated to be safe, it's wards remade more powerful especially with an heir present. Muggle studies became upto par with times along with the introduction of Internet, mobile phones etc even if usage of tech is forbidden in magic dense places like Hogwarts, ministry or diagon ally.

And the magical world, just like that bent backwards.

They couldn't say no.

Not when their hypocrisy got countered with harsh truths with evidence.

Not when the students—especially those he personally thaught to fight and students who were present when the death eaters when Hogwarts got taken over,threatened that if they didn't agree they might as well leave their families.

Not with him leading the Nobles in the court. Not when the wixen are still calling the second coming of Merlin and as the man-who-conquered.

It was a Revolution.

Tony reached over, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “Alright, Mini Mischief. You got any dirt on your Daddy?”

He doesn't mind Teddy telling embarrassing stories to Tony.He really doesn't.

But he has to go. So he with great regret he said. "I'm sorry Tony but we have to cut this short. I have something to do at work today".

Tony wanted to say something. Anything.

But stopped himself from saying anything after seeing geniune regret and apologetic expression on Harry. This was the first time he saw such an expression on his son.

" But Daddy, I don't want to go!, I wanna stay with grandpa!."

"I'm sorry Teddy,how about this." Harry turned to Tony.

"How about we meet for lunch or dinner whenever you're free at my home?."

Tony's eyes lit up. "I'll come whenever."

Teddy jumped up." Yay! Grandpa Tony I'll show you all my toys.we can play LEGO and I have a huge dragon collection."

Tony smiled fondly."sure bud"

Harry smiled fondly at the interaction.

Tony didn't receive a call that day. Or the next day. Or the day after that. It's been a month. No reply to his texts or calls.'What if he doesn't want to him. Did he do something wrong.' He was worried. 

"I don't know Mr.Stark, he said he's back in Britain to deal with some business. He took Teddy with him. Said He would be staying with his aunt and Uncle's family. May is also getting worried because he isn't replying to any of us."

'Oh my god! What if something happened at work.' He wants to go to London but he doesn't even know where he works or lives. Doesn't know about any of Harry's friends. Doesn't know where Teddy is staying. Nothing comes up when he searches with FRIDAY. Not even a plane ticket.

It's Official. Tony is worried. So he calls his war councel- Happy, Rhodey and Pepper for help.

Even if they would be useless like him, unable to do anything in this case, Tony can atleast rant about it. Tony wasn't panicking. He wasn’t. Sure, it had been days since he last heard from Harry. Sure, the kid didn’t have a digital footprint. Sure, even FRIDAY came up empty when looking for any trace of him. But Tony wasn’t panicking.

He just… called a meeting. A totally normal, not-at-all-paranoid meeting. Tony paced the room as he tried not to let his frustration boil over. His war council—Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy—was seated around him, watching with varying levels of amusement and concern.

Peter, who hadn’t been invited but somehow managed to get past FRIDAY’s security, was sitting on the arm of the couch, looking just as tense as Tony felt.

“So,” Rhodey drawled, arms crossed, “you’re son, who works in law enforcement, disappeared off the grid and isn’t answering your calls?”

Pepper said flatly. “He left with Teddy, promised to meet up again, and then radio silence?”

Peter bit his lip. “May’s worried too. Harry always lets her know if he’s out of touch for a while.”

“I even tried emailing. Nothing.”

Happy sighed. “Okay, so either he’s busy, or something’s wrong.”

Tony huffed. “Exactly. And we don’t know what, because our guy doesn’t exist in any system.”

Rhodey snorted. “Yeah, that’s still suspicious, by the way.”

Happy sighed. “You checked FRIDAY?”

Tony shot him an unimpressed look.

“Of course I checked FRIDAY. You think I wouldn’t? But there’s nothing. No records, no tickets, no anything. It’s like he never left.”

Rhodey frowned. “Alright. Let’s run through what we do know. He said he was going back to Britain for work, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony confirmed. “And he said Teddy was staying with his aunt and uncle’s family.”

Pepper hummed. “Do we know who his aunt and uncle are?”

Silence.

Peter hesitated. “I mean, he’s British—”

“Wow, thanks for the revelation, Underoos,” Tony deadpanned.

Peter rolled his eyes. “No, I mean—maybe his family is, like, old money British? That would explain the whole ‘no digital footprint’ thing.”

(Ron: *eyebrows shot up* He figured it out!! Oh my god he actually hit the nail on the head.

Hermione: *Impressed* I can't wait to meet him and pick his brain.

Harry:*rolls his eyes* shush you guys, don't scare my little brother off .*proud face™*)

Happy nodded. “Yeah, some of those really rich families keep everything off the grid. Still doesn’t explain why he’s ignoring you, though.”

Pepper sighed. “Okay, but we do know he works in law enforcement. What if something serious happened?”

Rhodey shot her a look. “Serious enough that he can’t send a single message?”

Tony groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “This is why I'm worried and we should’ve pushed harder when he dodged all my questions about work.”

Peter perked up. “What if he’s a spy?”

Rhodey raised a brow. “And he explicitly told us he’s not a spy.”

Peter huffed. “Well, yeah, but that’s what spies say.”

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose. “We already had this conversation. We agreed to believe him.”

Happy leaned back. “Doesn’t mean it’s not shady, though.”

Peter held up a finger. “Spy-adjacent?”

Tony pointed at him. “Stop making up words.”

Pepper gave them all and exasperated look. “We’re getting off track. If he’s not answering, we need a plan.”

Tony exhaled. “Right. We can’t find him through tech. So we go manual.”

Rhodey raised a brow. “Meaning?”

Tony smirked. “We go to him.”

Happy sighed. “We’re flying to Britain, aren’t we?”

“Ding ding ding,” Tony said.

Rhodey groaned. “You don’t even know where in Britain.”

Tony waved a hand. “Details.”

Peter grinned. “Ooh, road trip!”

Pepper sighed. “Tony—”

“Nope!” Tony clapped his hands. “I’m not sitting around waiting for something bad to happen. If he’s in trouble, I wanna know. If he’s avoiding me, I also wanna know.”

Happy muttered something about regretting this already.

Rhodey sighed. “Fine. I can use some of my contacts to get to MI6 Office But when we get there, you’re the one explaining why we just flew across the ocean unannounced.”

Tony smirked.

“Deal.” one way or another, he was finding Harry.

Getting May’s permission to bring Peter along was surprisingly easy.

“She’s been worried sick,” Pepper had said after the phone call. “She’d rather have Peter with us than sitting at home overthinking.”

That was how Peter Parker ended up sitting between Tony and Rhodey on a private jet to Britain, vibrating with barely contained energy.

“You think he’s a spy now, right?” Peter asked, looking between them. “Because this—this is, like, classic spy stuff.”

Rhodey groaned. “No one said he’s a spy.”

Happy snorted. “Right. Because normal people disappear for days with no digital trace.”

Peter pointed at him. “Exactly!”

Tony just shook his head, drumming his fingers against the armrest.

Rhodey’s connections got them a meeting with the Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service—also known as C.

It had taken some convincing (and a few well-placed calls), but apparently, the combination of War Machine and Iron Man wanting a sit-down with the head of MI6 was intriguing enough to be granted a slot.

The office was exactly what Tony expected—modern, professional, and filled with an air of we-know-everything-about-you.

C himself was a middle-aged man with sharp eyes and an even sharper suit. He greeted them with polite curiosity.

“Well,” C said, steepling his fingers. “I must say, I didn’t expect to host you today. To what do I owe the honor?”

Rhodey, as the most diplomatic of the group, took the lead.

“We’re looking for someone. A Harry Evans. Currently 16 year old.Supposedly worked with MI6 in the past. Now works as a consultant.”

C raised a brow. “MI6 doesn’t employ teen—.”

His brow furrowed slightly, as if something clicked in his mind. Then his face became unreadable.

“…Does this person you’re looking for have the most brilliant green eyes you’ve ever seen? With  black hair?”

The shift in atmosphere was immediate.Tony’s gut twisted.Rhodey’s eyes narrowed in suspecion.

Peter, sitting beside Happy, twitched in discomfort.

“Yes,” Rhodey confirmed. “That’s him.”

C’s expression paled. For a moment, it looked like he was scrambling for words ,but just as quickly, he erased all traces of emotion.

His voice was clipped when he asked, “Why are you looking for him?”

Tony crossed his arms. “Because he told us he was back in Britain for work. He was supposed to call us, but he’s gone radio silent. We’re worried.”

“I can’t say anything,” he said, tone final. “But as far as I know, Harry Evans is safe. He’s handling something personal.”

Silence.

No one believed that for a second. Rhodey’s expression turned calculating. Peter’s fingers twitched. The whole conversation was suspicious.

C had immediately denied hiring a teenager. But he backtracked.

If Harry had worked for MI6, he’d be memorable. After all, how many teenagers get recruited into British Intelligence?

And yet, C hadn’t remembered him until the description.

Which meant— Harry’s name was fake. Or he didn’t actually work for MI6. Or his existence was buried so deep that even the head of MI6 had to actively recall it.Or—worse—all of the above.

None of this was adding up, and Tony Stark hated not having answers. The fact that C had said, "as far as I know" sent alarm bells ringing in Tony's head.

Even he didn’t know what Harry was doing? How deep was this buried? What did Harry actually do?

'Is Harry in trouble after all?'

Peter exchanging a wide-eyed look with Happy.

Happy grunted.

Rhodey ran a hand down his face. 'This just keeps getting worse.'

Tony’s clenched his hands. The four of them sat in silence in the black SUV Rhodey had arranged for them, parked just a few blocks from MI6 headquarters.  

It was Peter who finally broke the silence.  

“That was so suspicious.”  

“No kidding, kid,” Rhodey muttered, rubbing his temples. “He practically had ‘classified government secret’ flashing in neon lights over his head.”  

Tony leanedagainst the headrest and closed his eyes. “Let’s break this down. First, he acted like he’d never heard of Harry. Then, he recognised his looks. And then, after confirming it was the same guy, he went full MI6-mode and clammed up.”  

Peter frowned. “Yeah! At first, it was all ‘why would we employ a teenager?’ and then suddenly it’s ‘I can’t tell you anything, but as far as I know he’s safe.’”  

“That’s the part that gets me,” Happy grumbled. “As far as he knows? So he doesn’t actually know?”  

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Tony tapped his fingers against the leather seat.

“Because if C himself doesn’t know what Harry’s up to, then we’re dealing with something way bigger than a simple law enforcement gig.”  

Rhodey nodded, expression grim. “We’ve got a few possibilities. One, Harry never actually worked for MI6, and they’re just covering for something else. Two, he did work for them, but under such deep cover that even their director only knows bits and pieces. Three… whatever he’s mixed up in is classified beyond MI6’s clearance level.”  

(Harry: *le gasp* he hit the Bulls eye.)

Peter’s eyes widened. “So, like, above even them? What’s above MI6?!”  

Tony sighed. “That’s what I wanna know, Underoos.”  'I would have said SHIELD if it did not get destroyed. But still, a SHIELD agent will not get that reaction.'

Peter’s face scrunched in thought. “I mean… Harry’s really smart. And crazy skilled. Ned and I always had this joke that he’s a doctor-lawyer-ninja or something, but what if—what if he’s actually something like that? Like a spy or an agent or—”  

Rhodey cut him off. “Except he told us he wasn’t a spy.”  

Peter threw his hands up. “Yeah, but what if he was just technically telling the truth? Like, maybe he’s not a ‘spy’ but he’s still in something just as dangerous?”  

Tony still with his eyes closed . “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.”  

Peter kept muttering . “Another thing, if he recognized Harry from his appearance, why didn’t he recognize his name? Shouldn’t he have put two and two together immediately?”

Rhodey shot a glance at Tony.

Rhodey continued Peter's train of thought. “If he really knew who Harry was, the name should’ve been enough. The fact that it wasn’t means there’s a good chance that ‘Harry Evans’ is fake and he’s operating under a different name.”

Tony’s voice was tight with frustration. “Which begs the question—what the hell does he actually do? And Think about C's reaction—he actually got pale after recognising who we are asking for. That wasn’t just ‘oh, I vaguely remember this guy’—that was ‘oh crap, this is above my pay grade.’”

If his name were real, there’d be records. There’d be something to find. Instead, they had a guy running law enforcement ops with no digital footprint and a literal spy chief who damn near had a heart attack when they asked about him.  

“So where do we go from here?” Happy asked.  

Tony exhaled sharply. “We find his ‘aunt and uncle.’ If Harry said he was staying with them, then they exist. And if they exist, then maybe we finally get some damn answers.”  

He tapped the dashboard. “FRIDAY, search for Evans families in Britain. Cross-check any Evanses with dark hair and green eyes— and hell, check for similarities to Harry’s features just in case because it is likely that 'Evans' is entirely made up too.”  In hopes that they might find something, even if the name is madeup it doesn't hurt to try.

“On it, Boss,” FRIDAY responded.

A moment later, she continued, “I have a match. Several, actually, but only one stands out: Lily Evans, deceased. She had striking green eyes, like the ones you described. She also had a sister, Petunia Dursley, née Evans, who is alive and living in Surrey with her husband and son. There is a record of Lily Evans son—Harry Potter.”  

The car went dead silent.  

“Harry… Potter?” Rhodey repeated slowly.  

“FRIDAY, pull up photos,” Tony ordered.  

A holographic display flickered to life, showing an old photo of a young Lily Evans.

Her red hair was different, but those brilliant green eyes were unmistakable. The next image was of a boy—Harry Potter—who looked like a miniature version of their Harry and like Teddy's twin. Same wild black hair, same features and most damning of all, the same unmistakable green eyes.

“Holy shit,” Peter whispered. “That’s him. That has to be him.”  

“And look at this,” FRIDAY continued, pulling up a record. “Harry Potter disappeared from public records when he was eleven—ironically, the same age his mother was when she started attending a certain hidden school.”  

“No way that’s a coincidence,” Rhodey muttered.  

Peter, still staring at the hologram, spoke up. “Harry told me he grew up with his aunt and uncle. Not his parents.”  

That sealed it. Harry Evans was Harry Potter. 

We’re going to Surrey.”

Chapter Text

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James Rhodes was a man of logic.

He believed in rules, in structure, in accountability. That was why he had supported the Accords—because superheroes needed oversight, and the world needed reassurance that they wouldn’t run unchecked.

But what Rhodey didn’t believe in was political games.

And somehow, somehow, in all the chaos surrounding the Accords, someone had played the system under their noses.

It wasn’t until after everything had settled—the rogue Avengers back in the Tower, pardoned, supervised but free—that Rhodey started digging. 

The Accords had been brutal when they were first proposed.

The restrictions, the oversight, the control—it had been an ironclad contract. And yet, by the time they were enforced, they had changed.

Radically.

The rules were still there.

Superheroes had accountability.

But they weren’t under complete government control.

There were emergency clauses, independent oversight instead of direct political control, protections against wrongful persecution.

And the rogue Avengers— They hadn’t even needed to stand trial. Their records had been quietly adjusted. Pardoned.

It had been too clean. Too precise.

And when Rhodey finally traced the changes back, all he found was one name. Peverell.

Lord Peverell was a ghost.

No pictures, no public appearances, no clear identity.

But he had power.

Rhodey had seen Tony go toe-to-toe with politicians and walk away the winner, but even Tony Stark hadn’t been able to get through the red tape of the Accords.

And yet, Peverell had. Without a fight that made it into the news. It had just... happened.

Quietly.

And then there was Bucky Barnes.

Steve had fought tooth and nail for Bucky’s freedom, but there had been no winning against the system.

The Winter Soldier had been a boogeyman for decades, and no one wanted to hear about brainwashing or HYDRA programming.

But then, out of nowhere, classified Russian documents had surfaced.

Testimonies from former Soviet officials. Proof of Barnes’ captivity, of HYDRA’s influence. And suddenly, the longest-held prisoner of war was exonerated.

Not long after, General Ross had been arrested.

The man who had spearheaded the most aggressive sections of the Accords, the man who had been pushing for enhanced individuals to be permanently detained, had been removed like a bad chess piece.

While Tony was still processing everything about his newly discovered son, he had unknowingly been under Harry’s protection long before they even met.

The Sokovia Accords had been a disaster, and while Tony had tried to work within the system, it had been messy.

The government had been rigid in its stance, and the divide between heroes had been deep.

Then, out of nowhere, an unknown but powerful figure had stepped in—Lord Peverell.

No one had ever seen his face, but his influence was undeniable.

It was through his carefully worded amendments that the Accords were softened. Under his influence:

• Superheroes were granted operational freedom, as long as they underwent accountability training rather than signing their autonomy away.

• The rogue Avengers, including Steve, had been pardoned under the condition that they work alongside the government in a supervised capacity rather than being fugitives.

• Bucky Barnes had been legally declared the longest-held POW, which led to his criminal record being wiped clean.

No one knew who Peverell was.

But some suspected he was British, given his clear sway in the U.K.’s government.

Others theorized he was an aristocrat with old-money influence.

All they knew was that he had enough power to override decisions even the U.N. struggled to change.

(Well they would definitely listen when someone went and changed the whole wizarding world entirely in a year just after war without much blood shed.)

“You know,” Rhodey started, “I always thought some big-shot noble or politician saved our asses after the Accords. I didn’t think it’d be your kid.”

Tony blinked. “Excuse me?”

Rhodey gave him a dry look. “Tony I think Your kid is Lord Peverell.”

(someone give this guy a medal)

Tony snorted. “Right. My sixteen-year-old son is a political mastermind who reworked international law. You hear how ridiculous that sounds?”

Rhodey just folded his arms. “Yeah? So tell me why ‘Lord Peverell’ has no digital footprint, no public appearances, but somehow has more power than some powerful organisations? Sounds a lot like a certain paranoid teenager we both know.”

Tony hesitated. He had looked into Peverell before—everyone had. But there had never been any record of his face or age.

“… He might not be?” Tony muttered, rubbing his face.

Rhodey just chuckled. “Yeah. Maybe not. It does sound ridiculous.”

(Never mind)

Later that night, Tony watched Harry—his son—playing with Teddy and Delphine, effortlessly making them laugh, completely oblivious to his father's train of thoughts.

Tony muttered to himself. "Nah it can't be him....I hope."

It started with an offhand comment from the President.

"Your kid has a good head on his shoulders, Stark."

Tony had nearly choked on his drink. "what now?"

The President had only smiled. "Ah. I see he hasn’t told you. Figures. Lord Peverell prefers to remain unseen."

It couldn’t be.

The one credited with making critical amendments to the Sokovia Accords, securing pardons, and helping take down General Ross.

The one Governments acknowledged, feared him even, but no one had ever seen.

No. No way.

But then Tony turned to him, eyes wide with shock, and Rhodey knew they were both thinking the same thing.

Harry.

Harry freaking Evans/Potter.

The kid who walked around in hoodies, smirked like he knew all your secrets, and carried his toddler daughter around like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The kid who, apparently, had the political influence to rewrite international law.

That had sent Tony and Rhodey straight to Harry, who was lounging in the tower with a book in one hand and Delphine curled against him, babbling happily.

Teddy was on the floor, playing with Peter, both of them too engrossed in their game to notice the sudden shift in atmosphere.

It was a picture of peace. Normalcy.

Rhodey shattered it in an instant.

"Lord. Peverell."

Harry froze.

Rhodey had always known there was more to Harry Evans than what met the eye.

The kid was sharp, calculating in a way that reminded him of Tony, but with an edge that hinted at something more experienced. He moved like a soldier, spoke like a diplomat when he wanted to, and had a paranoia that made even Rhodey’s military-trained instincts look relaxed.

But This was a whole different level.

Rhodey wasn’t angry, not exactly—Harry had done this before they even met—but the sheer magnitude of it was impossible to ignore.

Tony was still muttering under his breath, clearly trying to process. "The kid basically rewrote the Accords. He made sure enhanced people weren’t treated like weapons. He—he got Ross arrested."

Rhodey exhaled. "And he never said a damn word."

Harry froze.

Then, very deliberately, he closed his book and looked up. "Ah," he said slowly.

"You found out."

Tony ran a hand down his face. "How?*"

Harry shrugged. "Titles. Old money. Connections people don’t talk about. Peverell is a name that opens doors. And when doors didn’t open? I made sure certain people saw why they should."

Rhodey exhaled. "So you just… fixed it?"

Harry knew what he was asking about.

The Accords.

"I made it fair," Harry corrected.

"The original Accords stripped away autonomy, forced people to comply or become criminals. That’s not accountability. That’s control. So I did what I could. I made sure they felt the consequences of ignoring better options."

 "What does that mean?"

"It means," Harry said with a pointed look, "that certain people in power suddenly found themselves in positions where saying ‘no’ wasn’t a viable option anymore."

(Well it would have been impossible without the help of goblins but they were happy to help create a blood bath even if there was no blood.

And he had money. The goblins were very satisfied.)

Tony stared at him. 

"I knew who you were. And I knew, if things went wrong, they’d use you. Or worse, your people. I wasn’t going to let that happen."

"I did it because it needed to be done. And because I refuse to let something like that hang over my family."

Tony’s breath hitched.

Rhodey suddenly realized—this was about more than politics. More than hero work.

This was about them.

Rhodey wasn’t sure what to say.

The kid had changed the world before they ever entered his life, and yet, everything he did had still been for them.

Harry had rewritten international law not just for superheroes, but to protect his own.

To protect Tony. 

Tony exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face. "Damn it, kid."

Harry smirked, but there was warmth in his expression.

Rhodey just shook his head. "This family is insane."

Delphine stirred,"Da," she mumbled.

Harry kissed her forehead. "Yeah."

Rhodey sighed. "Unbelievable."

Tony Stark prided himself on being able to handle just about anything—aliens, near-death experiences—but nothing could have prepared him for breakfast with family.

He and Rhodey had barely made it into the kitchen before they were met with pure chaos.

Teddy was perched on the kitchen counter, animatedly waving his arms as he told Peter a story.

Pepper was attempting to get Delphine into her high chair—and losing the battle—while Harry stood at the stove, casually flipping pancakes like he didn’t have two tiny agents of destruction under his command.

"I’m just saying," Teddy was saying, "Uncle Ron swears daddy once sleepwalked his way into the middle of a battle and still won."

Peter, wide-eyed, turned to Harry. "That’s not real."

"It’s exaggerated," Harry corrected, sighing. "One time. One time I was sleep-deprived, and it happened to be in the middle of a fight between two schoolmates."

"And you won," Teddy pointed out smugly.

"It was luck."

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. "Harry, That wasn’t luck. Probably.Not after what we learnt about you."

"Debatable," Harry muttered, flipping another pancake.

Meanwhile, Delphine, the tiny menace, was actively resisting captivity.

"No!" she protested, gripping the edge of the chair with surprising strength as Pepper tried to settle her in.

"Delphi, sit down," Harry said without even looking.

"No!"

"Sit down, or no extra syrup."

Delphine gasped in betrayal. "Dada!"

"You heard him, munchkin," Pepper said, finally succeeding in buckling the tiny terrorist into place.

"You gotta listen."

Delphine pouted dramatically, crossing her arms like she was plotting her revenge.

"This is incredible," Rhodey muttered, leaning against the counter.

"Harry’s an international diplomat, basically untouchable, and yet he’s getting bullied by a two-year-old."

"Welcome to my life," Harry said dryly.

Tony took a sip of his coffee before focusing on Teddy. "Alright, kid, tell me more about this sleepwalking battle."

Teddy grinned. "Oh! Well, there was also the time Uncle Ron said daddy accidentally challenged a guy to a duel without realizing it and uncle Neville was trying to prevent daddy from being woken up so he went to fight instead—"

"Teddy," Harry groaned. "We’re not telling them that one."

Peter perked up. "You challenged someone to a duel by accident?"

"Technically, yes. But it wasn’t my fault."

"How is it not your fault?" Tony asked, grinning.

"I was being polite!" Harry protested. "I didn’t know the guy took ‘anytime, anywhere’ literally!"

(Ron: That wasn't being polite, that was goading him to fight.

Hermione and Molly: *disapproval noises*)

Rhodey was outright laughing now. "Oh, I like this one."

Meanwhile, Delphine saw an opportunity.

While everyone was focused on Teddy’s story, she very quietly reached out and stole Tony’s pancake.

Tony blinked as his plate suddenly became empty.

"Excuse me, young lady."

Delphine, pancake in hand, stared him down with her big green eyes.

"Delphi, no stealing food,*" Harry sighed.

Delphine, still holding the pancake, shoved a bite into her mouth. "Mine now."

Pepper hid a smile behind her coffee mug. "Oh, she’s definitely yours, Tony."

Harry smirked. 

Rhodey chuckled, shaking his head. "This is way better than dealing with government meetings."

And for once, Tony had to agree—chaos and all, this was the best way to start a morning.

     A few weeks later 

Teddy had a gleam in his eyes that Peter was starting to recognize as dangerous—not in the ‘life-threatening’ way, but in the ‘this is going to get me in trouble’ way.

"Okay, Petey," Teddy whispered conspiratorially, "I need your help."

Peter glanced at the nearly four-year-old with wary amusement. "With what?"

"Pranking Grandpa Tony and Uncle Rhodey," Teddy said with far too much excitement.

Peter hesitated.

He knew this was a bad idea. Harry had explicitly told him to keep an eye on Teddy, not enable him.

But on the other hand... it was just a harmless prank.

"Okay," Peter relented, "but nothing too crazy."

Teddy grinned. "Of course not!"

That was a lie.

The first prank was simple—switching Tony’s coffee with decaf.

A classic.

A safe choice.

The second was... less safe.

Peter really should have asked more questions when Teddy grinned and handed him what looked like harmless, colorless powder.

"It’s just a tiny bit of food dye, uncle George and uncle Fred gave it to me." Teddy had promised.

Except, one hour later, Tony’s face was a vibrant shade of purple.

Rhodey was bright green.

Neither of them had any idea why.

(They didn't panic.

The reason was simple.

Teddy told them some of Harry's, his uncles Fred and George's mischief.)

Tony squinted at his reflection in the nearest Stark-tech display.

"Alright, which one of you little gremlins did this and How?"

Peter and Teddy both pointed at each other.

Rhodey groaned. "You two are lucky I don’t have time to deal with meetings today."

"Yeah, otherwise our image would be ruined!" Tony grumbled, rubbing his face as if that would somehow make the color disappear.

It did not.

Teddy barely contained his giggles.

"You look so cool like that, Grandpa Tony!"

Rhodey shot a flat look at Peter.

"You. You’re supposed to be the responsible one."

Peter coughed. "Define responsible."

Before Rhodey could respond, Delphine escaped.

Again.

The first time, they thought maybe she had just climbed out of her playpen by accident.

The second time, Tony narrowed his eyes.

The third time, Pepper just calmly sipped her coffee and said, "She probably gets that from you."

Tony scowled. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Rhodey looked between Tony and the toddler who had somehow bypassed a top-tier Stark Industries baby enclosure and was now halfway up a counter.

He sighed. "Oh no. There’s two of them."

Delphine clapped her hands as if she’d won a great battle. "Up!" she cheered.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, okay, I see why Harry is constantly paranoid now."

Just as he said that, Delphine reached for a Stark-tech prototype sitting on the counter.

Tony lunged.

Rhodey lunged.

Pepper didn’t lunge. She just took another sip of coffee as Tony and Rhodey barely managed to grab the highly volatile, expensive piece of tech.

Peter, still guilty about the prank, scooped Delphine up.

"Okay, kiddo, maybe let’s not destroy Grandpa Tony’s stuff today."

Delphine pouted. "Fun!"

Tony was so close to losing it. "No. Not fun."

By the time Harry returned, Tony was exhausted, Rhodey looked like he was ready to retire, and Peter was questioning his life choices.

Pepper was completely unbothered but keeping an eye.

Harry raised a brow at the scene before him. 

Pepper smiled. "Your daughter is an escape artist."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. I know."

Teddy ran up to Harry and latched onto his leg.

"It was so much fun! Peter helped me prank Grandpa Tony!"

Harry slowly turned to Peter, who froze like a deer in headlights.

"You—" Harry exhaled. "You let Teddy rope you into pranking Tony?"

Peter raised a finger. "Technically, it was harmless."

Tony, still purple, crossed his arms. "Yeah. Harmless."

Harry tried. He really tried to keep a straight face. But when Delphine reached up to pat Tony’s cheek, he lost it.

He laughed.

It was warm, genuine, and fond.

Tony froze.

Rhodey blinked.

Peter just grinned.

"Me- Man, you guys look like a mess," Harry said between chuckles.

He carefully took Delphine from Peter and kissed the top of her head. "You had fun today, huh, little menace?"

Delphine gave him a toothy smile. "Fun!"

Teddy beamed. "I had fun too!"

Tony groaned. "Yeah, kid. We know."

Rhodey rubbed his temples. "This was one day. How do you do this every day?"

Pepper smirked at them. "New respect for Harry?"

Tony sighed. "Yeah, yeah. We get it. The kid’s some kind of parenting wizard."

Harry just smiled.

(Tony: Parenting is hard.

Harry: *side eye*.

Tony: you must be a wizard.

Harry:*smirks*)

Ned wasn’t the type to get paranoid.

That was usually Peter’s thing.

But lately, something felt off about Harry.

It started one day, after Harry came back from work and suddenly decided to pick them up—which wasn't unusual but he started picking them up from school every day— Not that they have complaints about it. Infact both of them were pretty happy.

It wasn’t anything obvious at first—just little things.

A shift in his posture—a battle ready stance according to Peter who learnt from Harry to identify the necessary tics during a fight, the way his fingers twitched when someone walked too close.

And then there was the fact that Harry had started disappearing more frequently.

At first, Ned thought it was just work.

Harry was a consultant for law enforcement, after all.

But the problem was, Harry was way too good at keeping secrets.

Ned had seen him lie smoothly to Tony Stark’s face before, and Mr.Stark was, like, a human lie detector.

So if Harry was acting suspicious, then something was definitely going on.

And Ned hated not knowing what.

So, when Harry slipped out of the house at nearly midnight—Ned and Peter were crashing at Harry's for the night—Ned made a choice.

A stupid, reckless choice. But hey, wasn’t that basically the Parker-leeds-Evans/Potter/Stark family motto at this point?

He followed him.

Harry was playing a dangerous game.

Antonin Dolohov was a name that should have stayed buried in the ruins of the war.

But like all bad things, he had crawled his way back into the world, leaving bodies in his wake.

MACUSA had reached out, their message clear: Dolohov is here. We need you. He might target you or those close to you. Be careful.

Harry hadn’t hesitated.

This wasn’t about politics, or power, or duty.

This was personal.

Dolohov was a monster—one of Voldemort’s most ruthless killers.

If he was loose, Harry wasn’t going to let anyone else clean up his mess.

Not if Antoni Dolohov was after him

Not if his family might get hurt.

That was how he found himself tracking a trail of dark magic through the streets of New York.

His proximity wards detected malicious magic in Queens.

His wand hidden but ready.

He moved in silence, a predator stalking prey.

What he didn’t expect was Ned Leeds stumbling into the alley behind him.

Harry whirled, wand raised before he could stop himself. The second he recognized Ned’s face, he cursed under his breath.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Harry hissed.

Ned, for his part, looked both terrified and very determined.

"Following you. Because you’ve been acting shady as hell more than usual, and Peter and I aren’t dumb and both of us as are worried, okay?" He folded his arms.

"Also, I might have used Peter’s tracker tech, but that’s not important right now."

Harry exhaled sharply. He didn’t have time for this.

"Ned, you need to go home."

"Not happening," Ned shot back. "Not until you tell me what’s going on."

A sharp crack echoed through the alley. Apparition.

Close.

Too close.

Harry’s eyes snapped to the street corner just as a shadow detached itself from the darkness.

A voice, laced with cruel amusement, slithered through the air.

"Well, well. The Boy Who Lived. How nostalgic."

Dolohov.

Harry moved before Ned could even breathe, shoving him back against the wall just as a jet of green light seared through the air where Ned had been standing.

"Go!" Harry barked, stepping forward, wand blazing with magic.

Ned’s eyes were wide with terror. But then something strange happened.

As Dolohov raised his wand again, a nearby trash can launched itself through the air—directly at Dolohov’s head.

The unexpected force sent the Death Eater staggering back, just long enough for Harry to counter.

Ned, breath coming in short gasps, stared at his own shaking hands.

"What the—what just happened?!" Ned yelped.

Harry didn’t have time to answer.

He filed it away for later.

Right now, he had a fight to finish.

The fight wasn’t easy but wasn't difficult either.

Not after what he went through.

Dolohov had always been a brutal duelist and Harry had to fight smart afterall he cannot use much power since he has to fight while protecting Ned while also making sure no muggles get notified or accidentally become collateral damage.

The battle raged through the alleyways, spells colliding in bursts of deadly light.

Harry knew he couldn’t let this fight go on.

Not in the middle of a city filled with Muggles.

So he did what he did best. He ended it.

An opening.A flick of his wrist. A whispered incantation. And Dolohov fell, bound in unbreakable magical chains, his unconscious form collapsing onto the pavement.

MACUSA’s Aurors arrived moments later, taking Dolohov into custody. Harry barely gave them more than a nod before turning to Ned, who was still standing in shock.

"We’ll talk about it later, I promise." Harry told him, voice firm but not unkind.

Ned nodded dumbly. "Yeah. Okay. Cool. I just—okay."

By the time Harry and Ned made it back home, exhaustion was setting in.

(Mostly mental exhaustion rather than physical)

He stepped through the door, ready to scoop up his kids and pretend the night had been uneventful.

He didn’t get the chance.

May—who Peter called when Teddy woke up with no Harry and Ned—took one look at him and frowned. "You look like you fought a hurricane."

Peter, sitting cross-legged on the couch, immediately went on high alert. "what? What happened?"

Teddy,—who had woken up —however, was not concerned at all. He gasped dramatically. "Cool! Battle mode!"

Harry sighed. So much for hiding it.

May crossed her arms. "Sit."

Harry huffed but obeyed. As May fussed over his rumpled clothes and smoothed out his windswept hair, Peter studied him carefully.

"What happened?" Peter asked. 

Harry met his gaze, considering. Then, he sighed.

"Just… unfinished business," he said. "But it’s finished now."

May just hummed. "Unfinished work? Really?"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, ma’am."

Teddy grinned up at him. "Did you fight a bad guy?"

Harry ruffled his hair. "Something like that, cub."

Peter didn’t look convinced.

Ned, sitting in the corner, definitely wasn’t and looked like he was bursting from questions.

Ah.well. He needs to talk to Ned. And perhaps take him to grignots for an inheritance test.

Chapter Text

Ned Leeds was not okay.

He was so far from okay that he wasn’t even in the same galaxy as okay.

Because Tonight had been insane.

One second, he was just a concerned friend/Brother following Harry, and the next, there was a scary dude in a cloak throwing literal green death lasers, Harry was fighting with a glowing stick, and Ned had somehow—somehow—moved a trash can with his mind.

Which, by the way? Should have been impossible.

But it happened.

He knew it happened because he saw it.

Felt it.

The way his panic had surged, the way his chest had tightened, and then—boom—the trash can launched straight at that terrifying guy’s head.

What. The. Hell.

Ned barely registered when they got back to Harry’s house.

His legs moved on autopilot, his brain overloaded with questions.

Too many questions.

His breathing was getting too fast, his hands were shaking, and he was pretty sure he was about three seconds from a full-blown panic attack.

What just happened?

What was that fight?

What was that stick?

(A wand . Some part of his mind whispers.

He ignores it.)

Why did the scary guy know Harry?

Is it related to Harry's work?

What were those lights?

(Spells the same part of his mind whispers)

What the hell did he mean by ‘Boy Who Lived’?

Was Harry supposed to die?!

His head spun. None of this made any sense.

"Ned?" Peter’s voice cut through the fog.

Ned barely processed that he was standing in the middle of the living room, frozen, breathing too fast.

Peter was watching him with growing concern, and May had that look—the one she got when she was about to go full Mom Mode.

Even little Teddy was peeking at him from behind Peter, big green eyes blinking in confusion.

Then, before Ned could totally spiral, a slender and strong arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"Come on, buddy," Harry murmured. "Let’s talk."

Ned let himself be steered toward Harry’s room, too numb to resist.

He barely registered Harry gesturing at Peter and May, silently telling them to back off.

Peter hesitated but nodded, scooping up Teddy while May sighed, giving Harry a pointed look before letting them go.

The moment the door shut behind them, Ned collapsed onto the bed.

His hands were still shaking.

His mind raced. Harry stood in front of him, looking at him with something between patience and understanding.

Ned opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

And then he just—blurted it out.

"I think I have powers."

Silence.

Harry blinked. Once. Twice. Then, to Ned’s absolute horror, he laughed.

"Okay," Harry said, amused. "That’s one way to look at it."

Ned gawked. "Dude, I moved a trash can with my mind! And you—you were fighting with a glowy stick and that scary guy was throwing death beams and I don’t—I don’t even know what to do with that!"

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright. First of all, deep breaths."

"I CAN’T BREATHE, HARRY."

Harry rolled his eyes but didn’t push.

Instead, he sat beside Ned, giving him a moment to process.

Ned pressed his hands against his face. "Is this… part of your job? Does SHIELD know you do laser stick fights in alleys?"

Harry chuckled. "No, SHIELD has no idea. And I’d prefer to keep it that way. I'm pretty sure only the director of shield knows."

Ned groaned. "Okay, cool. Cool cool cool. So I just found out you have secret powers and that I might have secret powers, too?"

Harry hummed. "Maybe."

Ned yelped. "MAYBE?!"

Harry sighed. "Look, Ned, I promise I’ll explain. But first, I need you to calm down, alright? You’re not in danger. No one’s coming after you. Just breathe."

Ned tried. It didn’t really work.

But Harry just waited.

Finally, after a long moment, Ned managed a shaky breath.

"Okay. Okay. I’m good. I’m fine. Explain. Please."

Harry studied him, then nodded. "Alright. But just… keep an open mind."

Ned had a very bad feeling about this.

"Harry," he said slowly, "are you about to tell me you’re a Jedi?"

Harry snorted. "Not quite."

Ned sat on the bed, still feeling like his world had just tilted sideways. Ned—somehow—had done something that shouldn’t be possible.

And now Harry was looking at him with the softest expression Ned had ever seen, a mixture of patience and something almost like excitement.

"Ned," Harry started, voice calm but serious, "what happened back there—when the trash can moved—was magic."

Ned blinked. "Magic."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Real magic. The kind that isn’t smoke and mirrors or sleight of hand. The kind that’s been hidden from the world for centuries."

He paused.

"Do you know if anyone in your family had magic?"

Ned frowned, trying to think. "I mean… my grandma used to say that her grandfather was a magician and that magic flows in our veins, but I always thought it was just bedtime stories."

Harry smiled a little. "It might not have been just a story. If you’re okay with it, I can check for you. I promise it won’t hurt."

Ned hesitated, his heart still racing from the night’s events.

But if there was anyone he trusted, it was Harry. He nodded. "Okay."

Harry lifted a hand, fingers barely moving, and suddenly a warm, invisible force wrapped around Ned.

It wasn’t tight or overwhelming—it was comforting, like being wrapped in a soft, protective cocoon.

It felt like cool freshwater on a hot summer day, like floating on a cloud, but beneath the surface, there was something powerful. Something vast and untamed, like a storm brewing over the ocean, electricity crackling in the distance.

It was Dangerous.

However he doesn't feel threatened.

Instead he feels—

Ned let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. "Whoa… it’s like… safe. It feels safe."

Harry withdrew his magic, looking a little startled.

Then—to Ned’s absolute shock—Harry blushed.

Ned gaped. He had never seen Harry blush before. Not once. And suddenly, he felt an intense, irrational need to protect this moment.

No one is allowed to steal my big brother away.

Ned was also starting to develop a brother complex, and oh, Peter was going to be so annoyed—so much for teasing him.

Harry coughed awkwardly before continuing. "So… I’ve confirmed it. You have a magical core, but you’re what we call a squib. That means you have magic, but it doesn’t manifest in traditional ways and can only be used in certain branches of magic."

Ned tilted his head. "So, like, I can’t do spells?"

"Not the way I do," Harry admitted. "But your magic is attuned to something else entirely. Runes."

(Harry had become awfully sensitive to magic during the war and what he did to check Ned's core gave him a bit of his magics characteristics.

It's like telling apart colours.Though he cannot tell everything just their inclination.Like some might excel in potions while others in blood magic.

He can also feel the core colour—light,dark and neutral.

Every one has both light and dark, the percentage of a colour, the more easy those spells come to them.For example a witch with 30% dark core and 70% light would prefer light magic spells than dark magic spells as it comes easier.Neutral are those who are close to harry, like 46%light and 54% dark. They are very rare and have little trouble with dark or light.True Neutral are extremely rare almost considered non existent if not for historical records.

Ned is inclined towards light with 70%light and 30% dark.

Harry is True neutral.)

Ned frowned. "Runes? Like, Viking runes?"

Harry grinned. With a flick of his wrist, glowing symbols appeared mid-air, hovering in intricate patterns. One pulsed gently before the image of a small bird formed out of golden light, flapping its wings before vanishing in a shimmer.

"Runes are an ancient form of magic that can be inscribed, coded, and activated in different ways," Harry explained. "Your magic naturally aligns with them, which honestly explains why you’re so good at coding. It’s basically modern rune work without magic."

Ned’s eyes widened. "Wait—so you’re telling me that I’ve been doing magic this whole time without knowing?!"

Harry chuckled. "No what you have been doing is not magic but coding is similar to runes so it comes easy for you."

Ned leaned back against the pillows, his brain breaking a little. "Okay, yeah. This is crazy. But also? So cool." 

"what else can magic do?"

Harry smirked and waved his hand.

The air shimmered, and suddenly, the room changed. The ceiling transformed into a moving night sky, stars twinkling above them. Little glowing orbs drifted through the air, casting soft light. With another flick, the orbs turned into tiny golden fish that swam through the air before vanishing in puffs of smoke.

Ned’s jaw dropped.

Harry grinned. "That’s just the simple stuff. There’s a whole world of magic out there."

(Draco: THAT is NOT SIMPLE stuff POTTER!!  *face pams*

Bill:*pats Draco'd shoulder comfortingly* Don't mind him, you know that he's dense when it comes to his power. He has zero common sense when it comes to what a normal wizard can do and cannot do.)

Ned finally snapped out of his daze. "Okay… okay. And Can I see see this world?"

Harry held up a hand. "One step at a time.and it's our world.I’ll give you the basics first. But for now, what you need to know is that the wizarding world is hidden from non-magical people—Muggles, or No-Maj in America. There’s a whole society, government, schools, the works. Teddy and Delphi are also wixen, like me. And magic is the reason I’m able to keep my information hidden."

"Tomorrow, I’ll take you to MACUSA and the wizarding alley here in New York. You’ll get to see everything."

Ned let out a slow breath. "Alright… Alright. This is happening. I have magic. And you’re a literal wizard. And I almost died tonight. But I also moved a trash can with my mind."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, that about sums it up. And you moving the can is called accidental magic which is what it says literally magic done by accident."

"You might be a squib but you still have magical core,so accidental magic is very much possible if it's a life and death situation or if they are extremely terrified or angry. However that magic is still very weak compared to a wixen's accidental magic."

Ned exhaled. "Okay. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool."

Then he promptly passed out from sheer information overload.

The next morning, Harry stood in the Leeds family’s living room, hands casually tucked into his pockets as he made his case.

“I was thinking of taking Ned out for a bit after school. You know, just a brotherly outing. We’ll be back before dinner,” Harry said with his usual charming ease.

Mrs. Leeds looked between Harry and her son with a small smile. “Well, I trust you, Harry. But you’ll make sure he eats properly, right?”

Ned groaned. “Mom—”

“Of course,” Harry promised solemnly. “I’ll make sure he's safe.”

Ned shot Harry a grin.

After school, Harry brought Ned back to his place. 

Ned, standing beside him, was practically vibrating with excitement. “Alright, where first?”

“First,” Harry said, smirking, “you get to meet the real Teddy.”

When they arrived at Harry’s house, Ned was expecting something cool, but nothing prepared him for the sight of a small boy with bright blue hair and golden eyes beaming at him in the doorway.

“Teddy, meet Ned,” Harry introduced.

Ned blinked.

Then the boy grinned at him, and his hair melted from turquoise to a deep purple before shifting into a dazzling gold.

“Holy—” Ned took a step back, eyes going wide. “what. WHAT IS HAPPENING.”

"DUDE—YO—YOUR HAIR—A—AND EYES—?

Harry chuckled, ruffling the boy’s now-green curls. “Ned, meet Teddy. He’s a Metamorphmagus. He can change his appearance at will.”

Teddy puffed out his chest proudly, his eyes now an unnatural glowing amber. “It’s cool, right?”

“That’s—That’s not just cool, that’s insane!” Ned gawked. “You’re telling me he can do this whenever he wants?”

Teddy nodded enthusiastically, shifting his nose to resemble a pig’s snout before giggling and returning to normal.He briefly morphed into a perfect tiny version of Harry, complete with messy black hair and green eyes before giggling again.

Ned clutched his head. “Okay. Okay. This is so unfair.”

Harry chuckled. “Metamorphmagi are rare. Teddy got it from his mother. He can change his features at will, but it’s tied to emotion. It’s a special ability some wixen are born with.”

“Wixen?” Ned echoed.

“The gender-neutral term for magical folk,” Harry clarified.

Ned was still staring at Teddy, who was now cycling through different hair colors like a neon sign. “That’s so much cooler than moving a trash can.”

Teddy cackled.

“Alright,” Harry said, clapping his hands. “I need someone to watch Teddy and Delphi while we’re out.”

Ned tilted his head. “Oh, May’s not babysitting today?”

Harry smirked. “No need.”

With a snap of his fingers, two small creatures appeared out of nowhere. One had bat-like ears and a wrinkled face, while the other was shorter with large green eyes and a proud stance.

Ned yelped and stumbled back. “WHAT THE—”

“This is Kreacher and Dobby,” Harry said, completely unfazed. “They’re house-elves.”

Dobby beamed. “Dobby is honored to meet Master Harry Potter’s guest!”

Kreacher, meanwhile, gave Ned a slow once-over and simply nodded. “The young master’s friend does not seem entirely foolish.”

“Uh… thanks?” Ned said weakly.

Harry smirked. “House-elves are magical beings that help take care of homes. They’re incredibly powerful and ridiculously loyal.” He glanced at them. “I need you two to watch over Teddy and Delphi while I take Ned out.”

“Of course, Master Harry,” Kreacher grumbled. “The little ones will be safe.”

Ned was still trying to process everything when Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. “Come on. Time to show you something really cool.”

Their first stop was an unassuming building in the city: Woolworth’s.

“We’re going to Woolworth’s?” Ned asked, puzzled.

“Just watch.”

Harry led him through the doors, past rows of normal customers. But as they approached an old elevator, Harry pulled out a coin, tapped it against the metal panel, and murmured something under his breath.

The entire elevator shifted. The doors shimmered, and suddenly, they weren’t in Woolworth’s anymore.

They were inside MACUSA.

The grand lobby stretched before them, filled with people in flowing robes and tailored suits, moving between floating golden memos. Charmed candles hovered in elegant chandeliers, and large banners displayed various wizarding news headlines.

Ned’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”

Harry chuckled, steering him forward. “Welcome to MACUSA—the Magical Congress of the United States.”

Ned spun around, taking it all in. The receptionist, a sharp-looking woman in a dark blue robe, raised an eyebrow as they passed. Her expression turned into shoch and awe as she watched Harry.

Ned was too shocked and taking in the magic to notice.

Harry immediately used magic to change his appearance. His hair became blonde and eyes blue.

At Ned's questions gaze and amazement at Harry's new look and whispered "Wow."He explained." It would be easier this way."

When Ned wanted to question more—

Harry nodded politely at her before leading Ned toward a side corridor. “Come on. The real fun is in the alley.”

Through another hidden doorway, they stepped into what looked like a bustling city street—except everything was magical.

Shops displayed floating books, broomsticks hovered outside storefronts, and cauldrons stirred themselves in apothecary windows. Street lamps burned with soft blue flames, and the air smelled like roasted nuts and something sweet Ned couldn’t place.

“Okay,” Ned breathed. “This is officially the coolest thing I have ever seen.”

Ned quickly forgot about the questions regarding Harry's looks.

Harry laughed. “Welcome to Ilvermorny Alley. First stop—Gringotts.”

Ned barely had time to register the towering, white-marble building before they stepped inside.

The sight of goblins—actual goblins—working behind high desks, counting gold and inspecting enchanted objects, made Ned grab Harry’s sleeve.

“Dude. You never told me there were goblins.”

Harry smirked. “I figured I’d let you be surprised.”

One of the goblins, a sharp-eyed one, looked up. “Lord Potter. A pleasure, as always.”

Ned turned slowly toward Harry.

Harry sighed. “ They can see through my disguise because their magic is different.Let’s just focus on your inheritance test.”

Ned, still overwhelmed, followed Harry to a side desk.

"Business?"

"Inheritance test for Ned Leeds," Harry said smoothly.

The goblin’s eyes flicked up at that, assessing Ned with an unnerving gaze before nodding and calling for another goblin to assist them.

Moments later, they were seated in a private chamber deep within the bank.

A sharp-looking goblin named Ragnok placed a small silver dagger and a parchment in front of Ned.

"A single drop of blood will suffice."

Ned swallowed nervously, glancing at Harry, who nodded in reassurance.

Taking a breath, he pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto the parchment.

The effect was immediate. Golden letters swirled across the page, forming intricate, glowing symbols before settling into readable text.

Ned Leeds, of the House of Ardeshir.

Ragnok’s expression flickered with recognition. "Ardeshir… That is a name long thought lost. Your ancestors were renowned rune masters and enchanters, known for their advancements in magical crafting. Their legacy vanished centuries ago after their stronghold was destroyed in a magical catastrophe. Few believed any descendants remained."

Ned’s jaw dropped. "Wait—so my family was some kind of magical geniuses?"

"In their time, yes," Ragnok confirmed. "If their talent still runs in your veins, you may be able to reclaim that knowledge."

Harry explained to Ned. "Rune magic is powerful."

Before Ned could even wrap his head around it, Ragnok motioned for them to follow.

"You have a vault. Not a large one, but enough to contain what remains of your family’s holdings."

The ride down into the depths of Gringotts was an experience all on its own, with twisting tracks and an unsettling speed. When they finally stopped, Ragnok unlocked a small but ancient-looking vault door.

Inside, there were no mountains of gold, but what Ned saw made his breath catch—old tomes with strange inscriptions, enchanted tools, and rune-inscribed objects that hummed with latent power.

He reached out to touch one of the books, feeling warmth beneath his fingertips. "This… this is mine?"

Ragnok nodded. "These are your birthright."

Harry placed a reassuring hand on Ned’s shoulder.

"We’ll go through them together. And I’ll make sure you get books on the basics of magic too, so you can understand everything properly."

Ned, still in awe, grinned. 

Harry led Ned through the bustling wizarding alley, his steps confident but his demeanor relaxed.

Despite the wild experience of Gringotts, Ned was still bursting with questions, and Harry—ever the patient big brother—decided they needed a quiet place before diving into the madness outside.

Besides Ned needs to be fed and watered.

They stepped into a cozy little café tucked into a corner of the alley, its entrance marked by an elegant, floating sign that changed colors depending on who looked at it. Inside, the tables hovered just slightly off the ground, gently rocking like boats on calm waters.

Drinks poured themselves from enchanted kettles, and plates of pastries hovered obediently at a customer’s side, waiting to be plucked from midair.

Ned’s eyes widened as he took it all in. “Dude, this is insane.”

Harry chuckled, guiding him to a secluded table. 

A menu floated in front of them, shimmering as if written in golden ink.

Harry casually ordered a butterbeer and a plate of assorted pastries, while Ned, after staring in amazement, ordered a Chameleon Fizz, a drink that promised to change flavors with each sip.

The moment Ned took his first sip, his face transformed in rapid succession—first pure delight, then shock, then confusion. “Wha—what the heck?! It was cherry, then mint, and now it’s—oh God, is that bacon?!”

Harry laughed. “It’s a wizarding favorite. Keeps things interesting.”

As they ate, Harry explained some of the basics of wizarding society.

Ned listened, enthralled, as Harry spoke about Quodpot (America’s chaotic, explosive alternative to Quidditch.), the differences between MACUSA and the British Ministry, and how wizarding food was often laced with minor enchantments to enhance flavors or effects.

Ned soaked it all in like a sponge, occasionally muttering, “Peter is going to lose his mind when I tell him this.”

When their meal was done, Harry set down his drink and pulled his wand out discreetly.

With a murmured spell, his jet-black hair lightened to a golden blonde, and his emerald eyes became a striking blue.

Ned stared. “Dude. You just went full undercover mode. Again”

Harry smirked. “It helps me walk around without unnecessary attention. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

Ned raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. The moment they stepped back outside, he understood why.

As they wandered through the magical marketplace, Ned started noticing something weird. Harry—disguised though he was—was everywhere.

Huge moving posters displayed different versions of him.

In some, he wore battle armor, his wand raised like a sword, eyes blazing with magic.

In another, he stood like some noble lord from a fantasy novel, regal and untouchable.

One depicted him as a warrior, a commander leading an army. And then there were the toys.

Ned skidded to a stop in front of a shop window displaying Harry Potter action figures.

Tiny versions of Harry dueled each other with sparks flying.

One figure transformed into a magnificent silver-blue phoenix with glowing green eyes. Another had him riding a broomstick, dodging an invisible opponent.

“Oh my God,” Ned whispered. “You have merch.”

Harry sighed. “Unfortunately.”

But the true highlight came when they passed a particularly shady-looking stall.

A vendor in garish robes waved them over excitedly. “You, sir! You look like a man of culture! Interested in authentic Harry Potter memorabilia?”

Harry tensed. Ned, on the other hand, was very interested. “Wait, what kind of memorabilia?”

The vendor beamed and began listing items. “A genuine lock of his hair! A toothbrush used by the Chosen One himself! Bottled air from his greatest battles!”

Ned lost it. He doubled over, laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach. “Pfft—Dude! Your hair? A toothbrush?! And AIR!!?!!?Who even—” He wheezed, barely able to breathe.

Harry groaned and dragged him away by the sleeve. “This is why I use disguises.”

Ned wiped away tears of laughter. “Man, I knew you were famous from the posters all over, but I didn’t think you were ‘black-market toothbrush’ famous.”

Harry muttered, “Capitalist nonsense,” under his breath, still looking mortified.

As they walked, Ned began noticing more. The way people whispered when they passed Harry’s images. Some looked up at the posters with admiration. Others with reverence. A few with something close to fear.

At one point, he overheard a conversation between two witches. “The Boy Who Lived… Do you think he’ll ever return to England?”

Another scoffed. “The Man Who Conquered has no reason to. He did his duty. He deserves peace.”

Ned turned to Harry. His big brother was a living legend.

They continued through the alley, with Ned occasionally bursting into laughter about the toothbrush incident.

Harry, still red in the face, muttered, “I am never letting Teddy or Delphi hear about this.”

(Even if they will find out about this sooner or later.)

Ned grinned. “Oh, I am absolutely telling them.”

Harry groaned. “You’re worse than Sirius.”

Ned paused. “Who?”

Harry hesitated before sighing. “I’ll tell you later.”

(Harry needs to create an account for Ned just in case.

And if Ned truly wants to learn about magic then Harry needs to meet a certain sorcerer supreme.

After all runes are well and good but it's not safe for Ned to be alone in the wizarding world as a squib.Even if it's better now there is still some people with prejudice.     

It's better for Ned to learn some Mystic arts to protect himself.

However He needs to speak with Ned and his parents before doing anything.

Maybe some time after the enthusiasm and shock has worn off and Ned learns some general knowledge about magic?.)

Harry warned Ned before going back home. "Ned you must not tell anyone about this, I will speak your parents but apart from them no one must know, including Peter."

Ned."But —"

Harry cut him off."I know what you want to say Ned, and yes we know about Peter being Spider-man and it's not fair to keep this a secret from him but this is a must. I never planned on revealing magic— even if I took counter measures in case of a reveal—because it is safer than way. You only got to know about magic because you have it. Anyone not belonging to a wixen's family knowing magic's existence is punishable by law."

Ned looked dejected."oh."

(Although with Harry, Ned can leave scot free, it's better to warn beforehand.)

"You saw my fame Ned, I have enemies that come with it, I don't want anyone to hurt my family which also includes you, my little brother. Besides we can perhaps be able to tell them sometime in the future. This is still new to you so it's best to adjust first. And who knows— both Tony and Peter are smart so they might find out about it themselves."

Ned felt warm at those words and gave a large smile.

"But you must never reveal it yourself."

"okay." Ned nodded.

Harry smiled."good."

Chapter Text

Harry sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Leeds, fingers steepled as Ned practically vibrated in his seat next to him.

His parents looked between the two boys with wariness, as if expecting them to announce that Ned had won a lottery or joined a secret government agency.

"So... what's this about?" Mr. Leeds asked, eyeing them both.

Harry took a breath. "Mr. and Mrs. Leeds, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just get straight to the point. Magic is real. And Ned has a magical core."

Silence.

Mrs. Leeds blinked. Mr. Leeds pinched the bridge of his nose. Then, as one, they both turned to Ned.

Ned grinned. "Surprise! I'm magic! Well, sort of. More like... magic-adjacent? Magic-compatible? Discount wizard? Still figuring out the branding."

Mrs. Leeds stared. "Ned. Honey. Have you been watching those fantasy movies again?"

"I mean, yes, but that's not the point!" Ned huffed.

"Mom, Dad, it's real. Harry’s a wizard! He can prove it!"

Harry, who had expected skepticism, nodded.

"Would you like a demonstration?"

Mr. Leeds, still looking like he was regretting waking up this morning, sighed.

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

Harry flicked his wrist, and the teapot on the table suddenly lifted into the air, pouring steaming tea into the cups before settling itself back down.

Mrs. Leeds gasped. "Oh my God. The dishes are haunted!"

"No, Mom, it's magic!" Ned laughed.

"Do another one, Harry!"

Harry rolled his eyes but obliged. He waved his hand, and the lights dimmed as tiny golden stars appeared in the air around them, gently floating.

Then, with a snap of his fingers, the illusion swirled into a miniature glowing dragon, which flapped its wings before dissolving into soft sparkles.

"Oh." Mrs. Leeds looked faint. "Oh dear."

Mr. Leeds muttered, "Well, that’s new."

"This is the best day ever," Ned said dreamily, watching the last of the sparkles fade.

Harry cleared his throat. "Now that we've established magic is real, there’s something important I need to explain. The magical world is hidden from non-magical people—Muggles. There are strict laws about secrecy, and only immediate family is allowed to know. If word got out… there would be consequences."

Mr. Leeds leaned back. "So this is like one of those 'secret society, break the rules and we erase your memory' kind of things?"

"Er... yes, actually. That’s a real thing."

"Oh." Mr. Leeds took a long sip of tea. "Well, that’s horrifying."

Mrs. Leeds took a deep breath and turned to Ned. "Okay. You said you're magic-adjacent? What does that mean?"

Ned sat up straight. "I'm what’s called a squib. I have magic, but I can’t do spells the way Harry does. But! I do have an affinity for runes, which is like ancient magic coding!"

Mrs. Leeds pursed her lips. "That actually explains your obsession with computers."

Harry nodded. "There’s more. The magical world... isn't always kind to squibs. There's still prejudice. Some see them as lesser. I don’t want Ned to be vulnerable if he ever encounters that."

Ned frowned. "Wait. Are we talking 'mean words' prejudice or 'pitchforks and torches' prejudice?"

"Somewhere in between. Which is why I think you should learn the Mystic Arts."

Mr. Leeds raised an eyebrow. "Mystic Arts? What’s that?"

"A different kind of magic," Harry explained.

"It's not wand-based, but it draws from a deeper, universal source. Squibs have been able to use it before, and it would help Ned protect himself if needed."

Ned’s eyes practically sparkled. "So... you're saying I could become a mystic warrior? It sounds super awesome and fancy —using energy from the universe and Mystic."

Harry sighed. "I’m saying you could learn to defend yourself."

"Potato, potahto."

Mrs. Leeds still looked hesitant, but she sighed. "As long as he’s safe, and he still does his homework, I suppose there's no harm in learning."

Harry smiled. "I’ll make sure he gets the right training. And to start—" he reached into his bag and pulled out a stack of items, handing them to Ned "—this is a beginner’s guide to runes, a do’s and don’ts guide, runic ink, a special pen, and parchment to practice."

Ned took them like they were made of solid gold.

"Oh man. My very first magic homework. I love this."

Harry smirked. "Let’s see if you still love it when you actually have to study."

Mr. Leeds shook his head. "Well. This is a lot to take in. But… if this is real, and Ned has a future in it, then we’ll support him."

Mrs. Leeds nodded. "Just promise us one thing, Harry."

Harry met her gaze. "Anything."

"No magical accidents. Our son does not need to wake up glowing one day."

Harry coughed, avoiding eye contact. Ned just grinned. "No promises."

Ned sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by parchment, ink, and the books Harry had given him.

His Beginner’s Guide to Runes was open to the first practical exercise: a simple rune meant to create a faint, steady glow.

It looked easy enough—a few precise strokes, a tiny push of magic, and boom, instant magical nightlight.

Except… he was a squib.

His magic didn’t work like Harry’s.

He couldn’t cast spells, and runes relied on magic flowing through them.

But Harry had assured him that magic had different expressions, and runes might be the key to unlocking his own unique connection.

“Alright,” Ned muttered, dipping his quill into the shimmering runic ink. “Let’s see what happens.”

Carefully, he traced the rune onto the parchment.

The ink shimmered faintly, which he took as a good sign.

“Okay… now I just focus.” He placed his palm flat on the parchment, willing the rune to activate.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, the rune let out a weak fizz, before pulsing softly like a dying firefly.

Ned grinned. “Hey! That’s—”

The rune promptly sparked, shot out a tiny arc of static electricity, and zapped him right in the fingers.

“OW—okay, rude!” He shook his hand, glaring at the parchment as if it had personally insulted him.

“I was trying to be nice!”

He poked it again, cautiously.

Nothing.

Annoyed, Ned pressed down a little harder.

The rune gave a feeble flicker, then suddenly let out a pop and sent a puff of smoke spiraling into the air.

“Uh oh.”

The parchment suddenly burst into small, flickering blue flames.

“OH CRAP!” Ned scrambled, grabbing a cup of water and splashing it onto the flames—successfully dousing both the parchment and himself in the process.

He sat there, dripping wet, the faint smell of burnt ink in the air.

A second later, there was a sharp pop as Harry apparated into the room, wand raised. He took one look at Ned—soaked, surrounded by wet parchment, and looking at him sheepishly—and sighed.

“…What did you do?”

“I was trying the illumination rune,” Ned admitted. “It, uh… sort of… combusted?”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ned, you’re a squib. Your magic works differently. You can’t just activate runes by touch alone.”

“I wasn’t forcing it! I just… thought about light and everything!” Ned protested.

Harry crouched next to him and examined the parchment, now singed at the edges.

“The problem is runes don’t just react to intent alone. Squib magic tends to be more about resonance rather than output. You need something that harmonizes with your magic, not just conducts it.”

Ned blinked. “Like… a tuning fork?”

Harry grinned. “Exactly. Runic magic isn’t about raw power—it’s about precision and balance. Your magic is subtle, more like a ripple in a pond than a rushing river.”

He pulled out his wand and conjured a small, controlled glow above his palm. “See? This is like flipping a switch. But for you, it’s more like fine-tuning an instrument.”

Ned’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh, so I need something to amplify the signal instead of just brute-forcing it?”

“Kind of. We’ll experiment with different materials—maybe enchanted ink, special parchment, or infused stones. You just need the right medium.”

Ned grinned. “This is just like debugging code.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, except the code sometimes catches on fire.”

From downstairs, Ned’s mom shouted, “NED! WHY DO I SMELL SMOKE?!”

Ned winced. “Uh, gotta go.”

Harry chuckled, handing him another parchment.

“Try again. But outside this time. I specifically choose this book as it only contains mild runes and none are combined— it's like learning only letter's instead of words so you would be fine without supervision.”

"However for anything more advanced than this, you will learn it under supervision."

“Noted.”

Ned had imagined his first Mystic Arts lesson to be something straight out of a fantasy movie—maybe some glowing rings, levitation, or at the very least, a dramatic opening of a portal to another dimension.

Instead, he was sitting on a cold floor, legs crossed, eyes closed, trying really hard not to think about the itch on his nose.

“Focus,” Wong’s voice was firm but patient.

“I am focusing,” Ned grumbled, cracking an eye open.

Wong gave him a look. “No, you’re thinking about how uncomfortable you are. That is not focus.”

Harry, leaning against a bookshelf, hid his smirk behind his hand. “Told you it wasn’t all fireballs and portals.”

Ned groaned and closed his eyes again, shifting slightly. “Fine, fine. Focusing.”

The lesson had started with Wong explaining the fundamental difference between Mystic Arts and wixen magic.

Unlike wizarding magic, which relied on inherent magical cores, spellwork, and enchanted objects, the Mystic Arts relied on drawing energy from the universe itself, channeling it with discipline and willpower.

It wasn’t something that needed a natural magical core—it needed training.

(The only reason he's learning is because Harry doesn't want him to be vulnerable just  because he has a magical core but cannot use it.

It's nice having a big brother.

And Ned gets to be a cool 'Mystic Warrier' according to him anyway.

Oh my god! What is even my life!.)

Which meant step one: meditation.

Ned had never realized how hard not thinking was.

After what felt like hours (but was probably ten minutes), Wong finally spoke. “Enough. Now, try to feel the space around you.”

Ned hesitated. “Uh, like, the air?”

Wong sighed. “No. Feel the energy. The world is filled with it. You do not see it, but it moves. Reach for it—not with your hands, but with your mind.”

Ned frowned and did his best.

He sat still, inhaled slowly, and tried… well, something.

At first, nothing happened. Then—just for a second—he felt something.

A tiny shift. Like the air wasn’t just air, but something more pressing lightly against him. The moment he realized it, the sensation slipped away.

His eyes snapped open. “Whoa.”

Wong raised a brow. “You felt it.”

Ned nodded quickly.

“I think so? It was like—it was there, and then gone. Like trying to hold onto water.”

Harry grinned. “That’s better than most beginners.”

Wong gave an approving nod. “Good. You have the awareness. Now you must train it.”

Ned groaned. “More meditation?”

“Much more.” Wong smirked. “But if you work hard, we might move on to something slightly more exciting next time.”

Ned slumped. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.”

Harry clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome to training, little brother.”

Ned was at Harry's place practicing runes.

Peter was doing patrol so this is perfect opportunity as he cannot accidentally burn the house with Harry there.

Ned stared at the softly glowing rune on the parchment, completely awestruck.

He did it.

The rune shimmered faintly, pulsing like a tiny heartbeat.

His first real magical success.

"Oh man. This is so cool!" Ned whispered in amazement.

Behind him, Teddy gasped dramatically.

"I wanna do it too!" The little metamorphmagus's hair turned a deep mystical purple as he grabbed a quill with far too much confidence.

"I am the Great Rune Master Teddy and I shall create the most powerful rune ever!"

Ned barely had time to react before Teddy started scribbling what could generously be called runes.

They looked more like wobbly, enchanted doodles, but the sheer enthusiasm was undeniable.

And then Delphi, barely two years old, let out an excited squeal and smacked her tiny hands into the enchanted ink, giggling as she dragged them across the floor.

Her "runes" were even less accurate than Teddy’s.

They weren’t runes at all—just chaotic toddler scribbles.

Then the room glowed.

Ned’s awe turned to instant, visceral panic. Oh no.

First, the parchment with Teddy’s rune ignited in shimmering blue fire. It didn’t burn anything—just hovered dramatically, swirling in patterns. Teddy howled in excitement and ran in circles shouting,

"I HAVE SUMMONED THE ANCIENT FLAMES!"

Then Delphi clapped her hands, and suddenly everything not nailed down started floating.

Ned let out an undignified squawk as the chair he was sitting on levitated a solid two feet off the ground. His book shot into the air, flipping pages wildly. The inkwell spun in lazy circles, completely ignoring gravity.

"AHHH—HARRY!" Ned shouted as he flailed helplessly in mid-air.

"THEY'RE BREAKING REALITY!"

Harry apparated into the room with a pop, wand raised. He took one look at the situation—the floating objects, Teddy cackling like a tiny warlock, and Delphi clapping in delight as she actively rewrote the laws of physics—and just sighed.

"Kreacher! Dobby! HELP!" Harry called, because even he knew better than to handle this alone.

The two house-elves popped into existence immediately.

"Master Harry's children are causing chaos again!" Kreacher rasped in disapproval.

Dobby, on the other hand, looked delighted. "Oh, Mistress Delphi is so powerful!" he squeaked. "And young Master Teddy has summoned fire! Great accomplishments for such little wixen!"

"NOT HELPING, DOBBY!" Ned yelped as the chair flipped sideways, nearly dropping him before the floating effect randomly decided to hold him in place again.

Harry flicked his wand, muttering a series of counter-charms.

One by one, the floating objects dropped to the ground, the fire rune poofed out of existence, and gravity remembered it had a job to do.

Ned, unfortunately, dropped straight to the floor with a thud.

He groaned. "I think… I think I saw my life flash before my eyes."

Teddy beamed. "Was it cool?"

"No, it was terrifying! How are you both so powerful?!"

Delphi clapped her hands again. A book exploded into butterflies.

Ned screamed.

Harry rubbed his temples. "Alright. No more rune experiments inside the house. Outside only. And maybe in a reinforced bunker."

Dobby picked up Delphi, who giggled and played with his ears.

"Oh, Mistress Delphi will be very, very strong! She will be a great wixen!"

Ned just sat on the floor, eyes wide, still processing.

He was supposed to be the one learning magic.

And yet, somehow, he was surrounded by a four-year-old mad scientist, a toddler goddess, and two magical creatures who treated all of this like Tuesday.

Hell Harry treated this like it's Tuesday.

He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or deeply, deeply afraid.

"Harry," Ned finally said, staring blankly ahead. "I need a break. And possibly therapy."

Harry threw an arm around him. "Welcome to the magical world, bro!"

Ned was starting to think Harry had a death wish. Or at least an unnatural tolerance for chaos.

“A park,” Harry had said. “It’ll be fun,” he had assured.

Now, Ned stood in the middle of a wizarding park, utterly overwhelmed as Teddy giggled and changed his face for the fifth time in the last ten minutes, now resembling a very stern-looking witch who had walked by earlier.

Meanwhile, Delphi, strapped securely in a floating pram, was clapping her chubby hands, sending out little bursts of magic that made random objects bounce and wiggle around them.

“Harry,” Ned whispered urgently, grabbing his big brother’s sleeve.

“I don’t think she’s supposed to be doing that.”

Harry, the absolute madman, just hummed in acknowledgment, entirely unbothered as he sipped his enchanted iced tea.

“She’s two. It’s normal.”

“She just made that bench dance,” Ned pointed out.

Harry glanced over.

The wooden bench was indeed awkwardly tap-dancing in place, its legs clicking against the cobblestone path.

Harry flicked his fingers, subtly dispelling the enchantment, and the bench collapsed back into stillness as if nothing had happened.

“She’s got good control for her age,” Harry said proudly.

Ned gawked at him. “Good control?!”

Before Harry could respond, Teddy, still grinning, shifted his hair and eyes again—this time copying Ned’s face exactly.

“Oh, come on,” Ned groaned. “Stop doing that!”

Teddy smirked. “Why? Feeling threatened by your own good looks big brother?”

He even mimicked Ned’s voice perfectly, making Delphi squeal with laughter.

“Dude, that’s creepy,” Ned muttered, rubbing his arms.

Harry, as usual, looked entirely unfazed. “Teddy, if you’re going to mimic people, at least be subtle about it.”

Teddy huffed but returned to his usual blue-haired, bright-eyed self. “Fine.”

The peace lasted all of ten seconds before Delphi, in her excitement, made a nearby flock of birds start flying backward.

Ned waved his arms frantically. “Harry! Fix that! People are staring!”

Harry sighed and flicked his fingers again, undoing Delphi’s accidental spell.

She pouted and crossed her arms in her tiny way, clearly unimpressed that her magic had been stopped.

“She’s going to be a menace when she gets older,” Ned muttered.

Harry grinned nostalgic. “That’s the Black family blood. They’re all dramatic.”

Ned didn’t even want to think about what Delphi would be capable of as a teenager.

Just then, Teddy spotted a magical pet shop and gasped.

“Ooooh! Can we go in? Please? I wanna see the Kneazles!”

Before Ned could protest, Harry was already steering them toward the shop, completely at ease with the fact that he was bringing two walking magical disasters into a store filled with living creatures.

Ned, meanwhile, was pretty sure he was going to have a heart attack.

Ned stared at the assortment of wizarding games Harry had laid out on the floor, his brain short-circuiting at the sheer absurdity of them.

There were enchanted chess pieces that whispered strategies to their players, a deck of cards that shuffled itself (and occasionally tried to sneak away), and a board game called Exploding Gobstones that he was fairly certain was illegal somewhere.

"Alright, pick your poison," Harry said, amused at Ned's overwhelmed expression.

"You’ve got Wizard’s Chess, Exploding Snap, Quidditch board strategy, or—if you’re feeling brave—Zonked."

"Zonked?" Ned repeated warily.

Teddy gasped. "Can we play Zonked?! Can we?!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at Ned. "Zonked is… a little unpredictable. The game changes depending on who's playing. And the rules… bend. A lot."

"I love bending rules!" Teddy declared, his hair flashing neon green in excitement.

Ned, against his better judgment, sat down.

"Alright. Let’s get zonked."

The moment Harry opened the box, the board unfolded itself with a flourish, floating in mid-air as the game pieces zipped into place.

A glowing quill materialized and scrawled across the board in shimmering gold letters:

WELCOME TO ZONKED! RULES? WHAT RULES? JUST DON’T LOSE.

"I already regret this," Ned muttered.

The game started off simple—roll the enchanted dice, move a few spaces, follow the prompts.

But within minutes, chaos had erupted. Teddy had somehow conjured a swarm of tiny flying pigs that zoomed around the room.

Delphi, delighted, clapped her hands, which promptly made the pigs start singing. Loudly.

"WHY ARE THEY SINGING?!" Ned shouted over the chorus of squealing harmonies.

"Because Delphi rolled a Wild Card!" Harry called back, utterly unfazed as he sipped his tea.

(He needs more tea to live.)

"Just go with it!"

Ned tried.

He really did.

But then his next roll transported him three feet into the air, hovering helplessly above the board while the game mocked him with a glowing sign that read: FLOAT MODE ACTIVATED. TRY AGAIN, PEASANT.

"Oh, come on!"

Teddy cackled. "Ned's losing! Ned's losing!"

"This game is rigged!"

Delphi giggled and smacked her chubby hands on the board, causing all the game pieces to shuffle around randomly.

The pigs vanished, but in their place, a tiny raincloud appeared over Ned’s head, drizzling exclusively on him.

"I QUIT!"

"You can't quit Zonked!" Harry said, grinning.

"You have to finish the game. Otherwise, the board follows you for the next 24 hours."

Ned stared at him. "You're joking."

The board cheerfully chimed: HE IS NOT JOKING. SIT BACK DOWN, PEASANT.

Harry just sipped his tea. Teddy and Delphi dissolved into giggles.

Ned sighed and rolled the dice.

    INTERLUDE

Ned sat cross-legged on the floor of Harry’s living room, carefully inscribing a rune onto a small wooden tile.

He had been improving—slowly—but progress was progress.

Teddy, watching over his shoulder, bounced excitedly. “Ooooh! Can I try? I bet I can make it work better!”

Ned hesitated. “I don’t know, man. Harry said runes are precise and need control and I don't want to repeat what happened last time.”

Teddy grinned. “I got so much magic! I bet it’ll be super cool!”

Before Ned could protest, Teddy pressed his tiny, chubby hands over the rune, his eyes flashing with mischief. Magic surged into the symbol, the ink glowing an alarming, fiery gold.

“Oh no.”

The rune didn’t glow. It exploded.

A blast of shimmering light erupted, and suddenly, everything in the room started floating.

The couch? In the air.

The bookshelf? Hovering.

Delphi? Giggling as she happily spun in midair like a delighted, giggling top.

“TEDDY!” Ned shouted, now weightless and flailing. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Teddy cackled. “I think I made it better!”

Delphi clapped her hands, somehow making the magic worse.

The room tilted sideways, though technically, nothing had moved—except Ned’s sense of gravity, which now believed that up was wherever it wanted to be.

“I DON’T LIKE THIS!” Ned yelped, waving his arms and accidentally somersaulting midair.

Teddy, who had gleefully flipped upside down, gasped. “Oh! Maybe I can fix it!” He waved his hands.

The room shimmered.

The floating furniture grew legs.

“WHY DOES THE COUCH HAVE LEGS, TEDDY?!” Ned screamed as the couch scurried away.

Teddy, wide-eyed, looked at his hands. “That… wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Delphi, now happily hovering, reached out and booped Ned’s nose. “Fix!” she declared.

Instead of fixing anything, Ned’s hair turned bright neon green. Along with walls.

“OKAY, NO MORE HELP FROM THE TINY PEOPLE!” Ned yelled, kicking his legs in the air and flailing like a helpless turtle.

Just as he was contemplating whether this was how he died, a familiar pop sounded in the doorway.

Harry walked in. He stopped. He looked around.

The floating furniture.The neon-green Walls.The levitating toddlers. The sentient, scuttling couch. Ned, midair, spinning in slow motion with neon-green hair.

Harry sighed deeply.

Ned, wild-eyed and floating, pointed frantically. “I CAN EXPLAIN—”

Harry held up a hand. “Don’t. I’ll fix it.”

A simple wave of his wand, and the room snapped back to normal.

Ned crashed onto the couch—thankfully now back to being an ordinary inanimate object—while Delphi landed safely in Harry’s arms, still giggling.

Teddy plopped onto the carpet, looking vaguely disappointed.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Teddy, what have we said about helping with runes?”

Teddy shuffled guiltily. “Don’t?”

Harry nodded. “And Delphi?”

The toddler beamed and raised her arms. “More!”

Harry sighed again, rubbing his temples. Ned, hair stll neon green, flopped onto his back and groaned.

“Harry,” Ned mumbled into the cushion. “you said that chances are high for my kids to me magic?— I’m never having kids.”

Harry patted his shoulder. 

Chapter Text

Peter knew something was up with Ned. And it was driving him insane.

At first, he didn’t think much of it.

People had off days, got distracted, had their own things going on. But This had been a week of weirdness.

It started small—Ned zoning out mid-conversation, like he had something on the tip of his tongue but was forcing himself not to say it.

He would start to say something, then physically bite his tongue, shake his head, and change the subject.

It wasn’t like Ned to keep secrets from him.

Then there was the sudden shift in how he acted around Harry.

They had always been close, but now it felt different.

Like they had a shared secret.

A big one.

And it wasn’t just Harry.

Teddy and Delphi acted the same way.

They’d always adored Ned, but now they looked at him like he was part of their little world.

They’d whisper things to him, giggle, and share these knowing looks that left Peter completely out of the loop.

Peter hated being out of the loop. Especially when it involved his best friend.

He tried to bring it up, casually at first.

Jokingly accusing Ned of sneaking off to some secret after-school club, teasing him about spending way too much time with Harry.

But Ned always brushed it off, shifting the conversation, cracking a joke, or just straight-up acting like he didn’t hear Peter.

That’s when Peter noticed the biggest red flag—Ned was leaving school every day for an extra class.

“What class?” Peter had asked.

“Oh, just something I’m trying out,” Ned had said.

“Like what?”

“Just… stuff. You know, stuff.”

Peter had given him a flat look. “You’re literally the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

Ned is suddenly very interested in his shoelaces.

And yet, somehow, Ned wasn’t cracking.

That was the most unbelievable part.

He looked like he wanted to spill but just barely stopped himself every single time.

It was a miracle, honestly.

Ned couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, yet somehow he was keeping this?

It stung more than Peter wanted to admit.

The truth finally hit him in the face—literally—when he walked into Ned’s room unannounced.

Which was normal.

They’d been best friends since forever, and Peter had been coming over to Ned’s house since they were kids.

It wasn’t weird.

What was weird, however, was seeing his best friend floating.

Like, not jumping. Not falling. Floating.

Ned was just there, mid-air, lying on his back like he was chilling in a gravity-free zone.

A piece of parchment and a quill hovered next to him, the quill scratching out something on its own.

Peter froze in the doorway. His brain shut down.

Ned turned his head, saw him, and went completely rigid.

The moment broke. The parchment dropped. The quill clattered onto the desk. Ned himself flailed wildly—

And crashed onto the floor.

Peter blinked. “...Ned?”

Ned scrambled up, his eyes wide in full-blown panic.

“Peter, buddy, my best friend in the whole world, you didn’t see that.”

Peter pointed. “You were floating.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you were!”

“No, I wasn’t!”

They stared at each other. The quill twitched. Peter saw it.

“Dude.” Peter whispered. “Are you a Jedi?”

Ned groaned. “I wish.”

After five minutes of hyperventilating and pacing, Ned finally gave up trying to talk his way out of it.

He sat Peter down and started explaining.

About magic.

About Harry, Teddy, and Delphi being magical.

About how he himself had a magical core but was something called a Squib, meaning he couldn’t do most magic the way wizards did.

Peter listened, eyes getting wider and wider. He opened his mouth once. Closed it. Opened it again.

“So you’re, like, half-magical?”

“More like magical-adjacent,” Ned corrected.

“I can’t do spells, but my magic is tuned to runes. I can apparently do potions, herbology, arithmacy, care of magical creatures —although Harry says it's dangerous for those without magic to protect themselves—among others but I'm not studying those yet. I’m also learning Mystic Arts from this guy named Wong, so I can at least do something to protect myself.”

Peter absorbed this. “Mystic Arts?”

“Yeah, it’s like magic but different.It’s more about energy and focus and portals and—ugh, it’s complicated.And the best part is anyone can do it.”

Peter just stared at him for a long moment.

Then he grinned. “Dude. That’s so cool.”

Ned blinked. “Wait, you’re not freaking out?”

“Oh, no, I’m definitely freaking out. Just internally.”

Peter leaned forward. “So, like… can you fly?”

Ned said excitedly.“Not without support. Harry said he'll show me how to fly on a broom.”

"A broom?!, like wizards and witches? That's soo cool?."

"I know."

“Can you shoot fire from your hands?”

“Not without runes.”

“Can you teleport?”

Ned hesitated. “...I mean, maybe someday? That’s a Mystic Art thing, I can't do the wizarding teleportation.”

Peter gasped. “Bro. You’re gonna be, like, a magician.”

Ned sighed. “Okay, you have to stop calling it that.”

Then, suddenly, a horrifying thought struck him.

His face paled. “Oh, crap.”

Peter frowned. “What?”

Ned shot up from his chair, rushing to grab his phone.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you! It’s literally against the law! I could get in so much trouble!”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?!”

Ned frantically dialed. “I gotta call Harry before the Ministry for Magic throws me in wizard jail!”

Peter, now also panicking, grabbed his arm. “Wait, wait, wizard jail?!”

Ned’s hands were shaking as he clutched his phone, pacing in frantic circles while Peter just stood there, still processing everything.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up—” Ned muttered, heart pounding.

Finally, Harry answered. “Ned? What’s—”

“OH MY GOD, HARRY, I MESSED UP! I MESSED UP SO BAD!” Ned all but shrieked.

“I TOLD PETER ABOUT MAGIC! I DIDN’T MEAN TO, BUT HE SAW ME FLOATING, AND THEN HE STARTED ASKING QUESTIONS, AND I PANICKED, AND—”

“Ned.” Harry’s voice was calm but firm. “Breathe.”

“I AM BREATHING, IT’S JUST REALLY FAST AND REALLY LOUD AND PROBABLY IN A WAY THAT WILL MAKE ME PASS OUT.”

Peter, still gripping Ned’s arm, nodded frantically.

“I second that. He is absolutely panicking in a pass-out kind of way.”

Harry sighed. “Okay, listen. Take a deep breath. You’re not in trouble. No one is getting arrested.”

“But the law!” Ned hissed.

“The Ministry for Magic! The Statute of Secrecy! I read the book you gave me, Harry! They throw people in jail for this!”

“You’re not a wizard under the Ministry’s jurisdiction, Ned.” Harry reminded him patiently.

“You’re training in Mystic Arts. The laws don’t apply the same way. And besides,  I can always adopt Peter into my family as my brother if anyone makes a fuss. Or we can have peter train in mystic arts too if he wishes, so there is no need to worry.”

Peter felt— something at that. He is not going to process it. Not now, Maybe before going to bed.

Ned paused mid-panic. “Wait. You’re sure?”

Harry’s voice was tinged with amusement. “Yes, Ned. Very sure. Now, grab Peter and get over here.”

Ned exhaled so forcefully he nearly deflated. “Okay. Okay. Be right there.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, how are we getting there? We’re not exactly wizards, dude.”

Ned grabbed his jacket. “We take the subway.”

Peter looked disappointed. “No teleportation?”

“No teleportation.”

By the time they arrived at Harry’s house, Ned had  stopped hyperventilating, but Peter’s excitement had only grown. 

The moment they stepped inside, Teddy and Delphi came running.

“Bro!” Teddy tackled Ned in a hug, grinning.

Then he spotted Peter and gasped dramatically. “big brother Petey knows?!”

Delphi clapped her hands. “Petey knows! Petey knows!”

Peter blinked. “Okay, I gotta ask—why do they call me Petey?”

Teddy shrugged. "cause you are Petey.?"

Delphi nodded sagely. “Petey.”

Peter looked to Ned. “I will accept this, but I am keeping score.”

Harry appeared, watching them with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Come on in, you two. Let’s clear up a few things.”

They all piled into the living room, where Harry—after making sure Ned had stopped looking like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown—explained things properly.

“Yes, the Statute of Secrecy exists, and normally, telling a non-magical person about magic is a problem,” Harry said.

“ Ned is training in the Mystic Arts, the Ministry doesn’t have authority over him the way they do over wizards.”

“So… no wizard jail?” Peter asked, just to be sure.

Harry smirked. “No wizard jail.”

Ned collapsed into the couch in relief. “Oh, thank Merlin.”

Peter turned to him. “You say ‘Merlin’ now?”

“I’VE HAD A LONG WEEK.”

With Ned no longer panicking, Peter immediately started his interrogation.

“Okay, so you said you can’t do wizard spells, but you can do Mystic Arts stuff. What’s the difference?”

Ned sat up, more relaxed now.

“Mystic Arts don’t rely on a person’s magical core like wizard spells do. It’s more about controlling external energy—like portals, shields, and elemental stuff. Anyone can learn it if they have the focus and training.”

Peter’s eyes lit up. “So I could learn it?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes. But it’s hard. And it takes a lot of discipline. If you want to learn I will have it arranged”

Peter immediately turned to Ned. “You’re learning this?”

Ned scowled. “You didn’t have to say it like that.”

Harry smirked but continued. “Then there are runes, which do rely on magic, but in a way that even Squibs can use. It’s like… written magic instead of spoken spells.”

Peter whistled. “So you’re basically a magical engineer?”

Ned beamed. “I like that title.”

“Can you fight with it?”

“Not yet,” Ned admitted. “But that’s part of the training. And runes can be used for protections and traps, so it’s useful in different ways.”

Peter hummed thoughtfully. “Okay, but real question—how have I never noticed any of this magic stuff before?”

“Because it’s hidden,” Harry explained. “Spells keep normal people from seeing anything magical. It’s why you’ve never accidentally stumbled into a wizard shop or noticed people flying on brooms.”

Peter looked betrayed. “And I never saw it?”

“Nope.”

Peter crossed his arms. “I feel personally offended.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s literally the law.”

Peter huffed but turned back to Ned. “So, what’s next? Are you gonna be, like, a wizard-doctor? A rune master? A magical superhero?”

Ned grinned. “Honestly? No idea. But I know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Ned wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re never gonna have a normal best friend ever again.”

Peter grinned back. “Dude, I never wanted normal.”

Interlude

Peter had officially stepped into a whole new world.

And it was trying to kill him.

Okay, maybe not kill him. But it definitely had it out for him.

It started with the tiny dragon.

One moment, Peter was admiring the magical pet shop’s window display, and the next, a tiny pygmy dragon launched itself at him from out of nowhere, clamping onto his jacket like an overexcited puppy. It chirped happily, flapping its wings as it nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, get it off, get it off!” Peter yelped, flailing as the dragon tried to eat his hair.

Harry sighed, stepping forward. “Alright, let’s—”

“NO! I WANNA KEEP HIM!” Teddy shouted, arms outstretched. “HE LIKES PETER!”

“No, he likes biting me or eating my hair!”

Delphi giggled, reaching out and accidentally unleashing a wave of magic.

The dragon hiccupped—and suddenly Peter’s watch dail got burned. Fortunately he wasn't.

“WHAT.”

Harry groaned. “Okay, let’s fix that—”

But then the quill incident happened.

Peter, still rattled, stumbled into a nearby shop and grabbed a self-writing quill to inspect it. Bad idea.

The quill immediately started scribbling in midair.

‘Peter Parker screamed like a little girl.’

“WHAT?! I DID NOT!”

‘Yes, he did.’

Ned howled with laughter. Teddy pointed at Peter, giggling wildly. Even Delphi clapped like this was the best thing ever clearly enjoying his distress.

Peter snatched at the quill, but it dodged him and kept writing.

‘Peter Parker is now pouting. Adorable.’

“I WILL DESTROY YOU.”

Harry flicked his wand and finally stopped the quill, handing it back to the amused shopkeeper.

“Okay. That was just bad luck. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He was not fine.

Because then Teddy happened.

Peter was mid-sentence when his hair suddenly turned neon green.

Ned gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, Peter, you’re the Grinch.”

“TEDDY!”

Teddy grinned, rocking on his heels. “You look cool, Petey!”

“FIX IT.”

“Nope!”

Harry sighed. “Teddy…”

With a reluctant sigh, Teddy gave the antidote for the potion he slipped into Peter's juice, and Peter’s hair turned back to normal. Peter exhaled in relief.

And then Delphi clapped. Big mistake.

A sudden rush of accidental magic made Peter float.

“Wait—wait—WHOA!”

He flailed as his feet left the ground, hovering a few inches in the air.

Delphi squealed in delight. “Fly, Petey, fly!”

“I CAN’T FLY!”

Ned, unhelpful as always, doubled over laughing.

Teddy cheered.

Even Harry looked like he was fighting a smirk as he casually reached up and pulled Peter back down with a simple spell.

Peter’s feet hit the ground, and he swayed slightly, mentally reconsidering all of his life choices.

“Okay,” he said slowly, gulping. “No more surprises.”

Then he stepped outside.

And a rogue broom rammed straight into his back.

“OH, COME ON!”

The broom, apparently delighted, started hovering in front of him, nudging him like an overeager puppy.

“It likes you.”

“Tell it to like someone else!”

The broom ignored him and proceeded to shove itself under him, forcing him to grab it before he faceplanted onto the pavement.

And then the broom took off.

Peter shrieked as he wobbled unsteadily in the air, gripping the handle for dear life. “I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS!”

Ned cheered. “DUDE, YOU’RE FLYING!”

“I’M DYING!”

With another sigh, Harry flicked his wand, and the broom stopped mid-air.

Peter, disoriented, slid off and landed on the ground in a heap.

He lay there for a moment, staring at the sky, reconsidering all of his life choices.

Harry peered down at him. “You good?”

Peter slowly sat up, hair a mess, face pale, and hands still shaking.

And then he grinned wildly. “That. Was. AWESOME.”

Ned burst out laughing. Teddy cheered. Delphi clapped excitedly.

Harry just sighed. “Great. Another one.”

Chapter Text

Peter thought he was prepared.

He’d fought alongside Iron Man.

He's fought Vulture.

He’d seen some wild stuff in his time as Spider-Man (Like alien tech blasting through a bank wall). But — This was something else entirely.

The second Harry—in disguise led him and Ned through what looked like a dingy alley behind a pub and tapped on a few bricks in a wall, Peter’s world cracked open. Literally.

The wall shimmered and rearranged itself into an archway, revealing a cobblestone street bustling with people in robes, owls flying overhead, floating signs, and a literal dragon-shaped fountain that breathed actual fire.

“Okay,” Peter said slowly, gripping Ned’s arm.

“What. The. Hell.”

“Welcome to Diagon Alley,” Harry said casually, like he was pointing out a new pizza place.

Peter’s jaw didn’t close for a solid five minutes.

Everything was too much—the cauldrons that stirred themselves in windows, the brooms hovering lazily in the air, the howlers screaming advertisements.

A kid walked by eating ice cream that changed colors every lick.

Someone’s hat tried to fly away. There was a whole rack of screaming books that Harry expertly avoided.

“I don’t even know where to look,” Peter muttered.

“Why is everything moving?”

“Magic,” Ned said with a grin. “Isn’t it insane?”

“Insane? Dude, this makes Stark Tech look boring.”

Then Peter stopped.

His eyes landed on a shop window packed with posters, photos, and merchandise.

At first, he thought it was an ad for a movie or something. But then he squinted.

“Is that… Harry?”

Harry sighed.

Peter moved closer to the display.

Posters showed a younger Harry holding a glowing wand, his name in dramatic gold lettering.

One had him mid-duel, facing off against what looked like a cloaked villain.

Another was an old, dramatic photograph of Harry with a phoenix behind him.

There were even knitted dolls of Harry in a glass case.

There were fans too. 

Peter awed. “Dude. You’re, like… famous.”

“Even the Avengers don’t have this much stuff,” Peter muttered, mouth agape.

“This is… ridiculous.”

“Seriously,” Ned added.

Peter pointed to a book prominently displayed at the front of a bookstore.

“The Story of Harry Potter: The Saviour, the Most Powerful Dark Lord, and the Hidden Manipulator.”

“…Can I buy that?” Peter asked, genuinely curious.

Ned looked just as eager. “Yeah, I still haven’t finished the magical history stuff. I wanna know the whole saga. I didn't even touch modern history yet.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. But only if you don’t read the commentaries aloud.”

Peter was already at the door. “No promises.”

Ned followed, still shaking his head. “This is unreal. To think the person I consider my brother is in history books."

“It’s like finding out your teacher is secretly Batman.”

Harry looked at both of them with tired eyes. “I’m basically the Avengers combined in the wizarding world. Except I didn’t get a cool suit. Or a choice.”

Peter grinned. “Well, now I’m definitely finishing this book.”

(He's ignoring the last part for now.

Why does someone only a year older than him has such tired eyes?.

He needs more information before he touches that.

Information that Harry won't share himself.

So other sources it is.

Even if the said source is a History Book.

On the bright side, he has Harry's permission to read.)

Harry sighed again. “I regret everything.”

It started off as a normal school day.

Peter had just barely made it to first period when he noticed something weird.

A low rumbling sound echoed faintly through the hallway.

The lights flickered once, then again. A few students looked up, puzzled, but the teacher brushed it off.

Peter frowned. Something felt...off.

By third period, things went from weird to absolutely unhinged.

It started with lockers randomly slamming open and shut—all of them—down the entire hallway like dominoes.

A few students screamed.

One kid’s math notes got shredded midair by what looked like invisible claws.

The loudspeaker started playing distorted carnival music.

Somewhere, a fire alarm went off...but there was no fire.

Peter and Ned locked eyes from across the hallway. “...Please tell me this isn’t one of yours,” Peter muttered.

“I swear, I didn’t do anything!” Ned whispered. 

Then they heard it.A low growl. 

Something wet and sloppy slithering against tile.

And then—it pounced.

A grotesquely enchanted plush creature, made to look like a cartoony monster, charged down the hallway screeching like a banshee. Its button eyes glowed red. Its limbs were stitched too long.

It howled, “HIDE AND SEEK, I FIND YOUUUUU—”

Screaming erupted.

“IT HAS TEETH!!!” someone yelled.

Peter dove behind a row of lockers. “WHY DOES IT HAVE TEETH, NED?!”

Because it's either magical or their school is now haunted.

Right now the only resident magician available is Ned.

“I DON’T KNOW! I THOUGHT IT TURNED OFF AFTER THEY STOPPED PLAYING!”

The thing skittered sideways like a crab, sniffed the air, and bolted straight for the science wing.

“What is that thing?!” Peter cried, as he and Ned sprinted down the hall.

Peter can't even fight it in public.

His senses are not even warning him 

“It’s one of Teddy’s hide-and-seek toys! It’s enchanted to find you if you hide and then—it’s supposed to tickle you when it wins!”

“That is not a tickle face, Ned!!”

 Students were scattering in every direction.

One poor guy got lightly zapped by a wall clock that started spewing sparks.

A biology class was trapped inside their room by a desk that had fused with the door.

Someone's Chromebook sprouted legs and took off sprinting.

Peter ducked behind a trash can, panting. “So, uh... what’s plan B?”

“Call Harry?” Ned offered, pulling out his phone with shaking hands.

only for it to show low battery and get switched off.

Peter forgot his own phone.

(Being Spider-man means broken phones. He really needs to remember to ask Harry if he has any magical solution or ask Mr.Stark to make his phone super soldier/super fall proof.

He's relying on Ned when he's in school —doesn't matter if Peter has his phone or not— and Karen while he's spiderman.

So yeah, forgive him if he forgot his phone.)

"Oh Shit".

Meanwhile, at the MACUSA, Harry was deep in a strategy briefing with a group of aurors about new training when both his and MACUSA's emergency rune alert pinged.

He frowned. “Magical activity in Midtown?”

One of the younger aurors glanced at the screen. “Looks like unregulated charmwork, maybe a cursed object loose? Want me to notify field agents?”

Harry’s jaw tightened when he saw the coordinates. “No. I’ve got this.”

“Sir?”

“My... people are there. I’m going.”

He grabbed his wand and along with a team of Obliviators. Within moments, they Apparated into a discreet alley near the school.

Back inside, chaos reigned.

The plush creature had multiplied. There were now two—possibly three—of them.

One was crawling across the ceiling, upside down. The fire alarm had been replaced by high-pitched giggling.

Someone’s backpack was levitating three feet off the ground, spinning slowly.

Peter looked like he wanted to cry. “This is worse than alien goo. This is worse than ANYTHING.”

Ned was trying to herd a group of first-years into the gym, only to find that the gym floor had turned into slime.

Just as the third creature lunged toward a group of panicked students—

A blinding light washed over the hallway.

The plush monsters froze mid-leap and fell harmlessly to the ground. Every spark, flicker, and floating object dropped still.

The enchanted chaos vanished like a popped bubble.

Harry Potter stood in the middle of the hall, wand out, coat flaring slightly, and eyes scanning.

“Is everyone alright?” he asked calmly.

Everyone stared.

“... Harry?” Peter gasped in hope.

The Obliviators moved quickly, securing magical traces, casting memory charms, erasing the footage, and ensuring no trace of magic remained.

Teachers were charmed into thinking it was a gas leak drill. Students were dazed, confused, but alive.

In Harry’s study later that evening, Peter and Ned sat quietly while he finished his report. Harry was still in his work robes.

Peter finally broke the silence. “So, uh... that wasn’t supposed to happen, right?”

Harry looked sooo done.

“No. That toy is to be destroyed. It was not enchanted to do that, it seems when it got pressed into Ned's phone in his bag, the complicated charm work got overcharged. That toy wasn't made to be electricity proof. It's something that needs to be investigated as magic should have short out the phone, not get overcharged. Ofcourse we need to consider the fact that it got overcharged when the source itself was contained in a phone battery. The question is how?It's being investigated as we speak.”

“Teddy might’ve...accidentally shoved it in my bag after we finished playing.” Ned admitted.

“I definitely didn’t know.” Peter added.

Harry looked at them both, and rubbed his temples. “Magic isn’t a toy, you two. Even the harmless stuff has layers. Rules. Risks. I know you two are not at fault, I'm just asking you to cautious.”

Teddy and Delphi were curled up on the couch nearby—Delphi hugging her stuffed dragon tightly, Teddy fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“This can’t happen again,” Harry said, voice low but firm.

“Magic and the non-magical world aren’t meant to mix like this. Especially not in public. Especially not with enchanted toys that cause panic.”

Peter swallowed. He’d never heard Harry sound like this before. Not angry. Just... heavy.  Like someone who’d seen too much and carried all of it on his shoulders.

Harry looked directly at Peter. “You saw how fast it got out of control. If normal people realise how much trouble a single toy can cause, do you know what would happen?"

"The public already is less receptive to super heroes who saved the world. How would they react if it's revealed that people of great powers live among themselves."

(A remake of Witch trails. Only more gruesome and more widespread.

Another world war.

The end of magic.

The end of the world as we know it.)

"It would lead to war which our world isn't prepared for.You’re smart, Peter, Ned. You both get it now, don’t you?”

Peter horrified at the mention of war, nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do. It’s not just fun or games. It’s dangerous if we're not careful.”

Harry gave a tight nod. “Exactly. There are rules for a reason. Not because we don’t trust you—but because the world doesn’t work like a comic book. Magic doesn’t get to exist openly. Not without consequences.”

Peter glanced at Ned, who looked down at his lap. But before he could speak, a small hand tugged at Ned’s sleeve.

It was Delphi.

She held out her squishy dragon. “Here. You can have Draggie.”

Ned blinked. “Are you... giving me one your favorite toy?”

She nodded solemnly and patted his cheek. “Don't cry.”

Teddy shuffled forward too, hands behind his back.

“I didn’t mean to hide the toy in your bag, Ned. I thought it’d be funny. Sorry.”

Peter and Ned stared at the two kids, then looked up at Harry, who gave him a faint shrug as if to say, That’s the best apology you’ll get.

Ned smiled and took the dragon. “Thanks, Delphi.. and Teddy, Just... maybe next time, warn me before unleashing chaos gremlin energy?”

Teddy grinned. “Okay!”

Peter wanted to coo.

Harry gave them a tired smile. 

Peter slammed the book shut, hands trembling. "Okay. That wasn’t a biography. That was a war journal."

Peter fumes."It's really TORTURE to read through every single page without wanting to STRANGLE someone. I can't believe We even made this far. Where in the BLOODY HELL WERE THE ADULTS. What the HECK WERE THEY DOING?! Arruugghh!!." He threw his arms up.

(They were lucky both of Ned's parents were away, otherwise they would have definitely been told off.)

Ned didn’t respond right away.

He was still frozen, staring at the page like it had personally slapped him. "He—Harry—he did all that... and he's just, like, casually making us sandwiches and teaching me runes and training you to fight?"

Peter shot him a wide-eyed look. "He killed a guy. Like, actually killed a guy. In first year. With his hands—or at least, indirectly! He was eleven!"

"The possessed teacher," Ned whispered, almost in disbelief. "And he didn’t get therapy. No one said, 'Hey, maybe don’t let this traumatized child back in school without theropy.'"

Peter stood up and began pacing. "There were obstacles. Literal life-or-death puzzles hiding the Philosopher’s Stone. Which he got through. As a first year."

"The troll," Ned added. "The Devil’s Snare. Flying through deadly keys. Giant chess. And then voluntarily letting Voldemort—VOLDEMORT—burning to stop him."

Peter groaned, falling back onto the bed. "He was hearing voices in the walls, finding frozen students, got blamed for everything. And then he stabs a basilisk. With a sword. With no training! To save a friend.He almost died again."

Ned buried his face in his hands. "And still no therapy."

Peter looked up slowly. "Then in second year —his godfather escapes from wizard prison. Everyone thinks the guy's a murderer. He meets soul-sucking demons in the sky. Dementors."

"He learns the Patronus charm—a spell even full fledged wixen struggle with little success. From his father's friend," Ned whispered. "Remus, who’s a werewolf. Who almost killed Harry accidentally. Harry almost died again."

"And they find out that the real traitor was another Peter. Pettigrew. Who framed Sirius. Who’s actually innocent and Harry’s godfather."

"Then they TIME-TRAVELED. TO FIX EVERYTHING. They were twelve."

Peter paused. "Okay. That part might’ve been the least deadly. Relatively.

Ned flipped to the another section. "Triwizard Tournament same year."

Peter groaned. "The dragons. The merfolk. The literal death maze."

"He got kidnapped.Got tortured. Got Voldemort resurrected in front of him. Got tortured again. Fought for his life. Came back. And people didn’t believe him!"

"Then he gets dragged into a trial for protecting himself and his cousin from Dementors?!"

Ned shuddered."And Umbridge. The so called detentions which are basically a form of torture. Again. Forming a secret army because the school won't help.The adults won't help. Harry was thirteen!."

Peter’s voice cracked. "And Sirius dies. In front of him. And he has to keep fighting."

(uncle ben please! Please don't leave! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.)

Ned stared at the book, then at Peter. "He’s... he’s a literal war general by the end. Hunted. Leading a resistance. He becomes the face of a rebellion."

"Fighting Inferi—literal ZOMBIES. Escaping death like it’s a Tuesday. Dumbledore dies.The Ministry falls."

"And Harry—he disappears. Lives in hiding. Still fights. Survives ambushes.  Survives torture.      Still leads corresponding with his allies all over the world and commanding his army. At fourteen!!!!!"

Peter whispered, "And the final battle... he almost died, he went alone to save everyone And ended it. Saved us. Because if war like that—which went all over the world, hidden right under our noses—bleeds over to this side then—"

Both Peter and Ned shudder at that thought, a chill running their spine. They felt suffocated.

(If only they knew that Harry really died that day.)

There was a long silence.

"I thought he did something amazing to have such fame but didn't think he lead a war."

Ned sat back, looking like the weight of a century had dropped on his shoulders. "This guy tucks in his kids at night. Explains rune safety. Trains you to fight and survive while joking. Pokes fun at us. Feeds us. Picks us up from school. Gossips with May. Grounds us for making trouble. Gets us out of trouble. Takes us out to fun outings and shopping. Plays games with us. Teaches his kids sometimes. Plays with them. Tries and succeeds to become a family to us and Tony Stark."

Peter just stared at the wall, like he was seeing Harry for the first time. Really seeing him. "No wonder he says he works in law enforcement. That he’s a consultant. And he got knighted at fifteen."

Ned gave a short, laugh bordering hysterical.

"Also explains how it's kept hidden so well."

Peter now staring at the ceiling. "Dude. Harry Potter is terrifying."

"And somehow," Ned added reverently, "also the kindest person I’ve ever met."

Peter slowly picked the book back up. "I don’t know if I want to hug the life out of him or never make eye contact again."

Ned nodded solemnly. "Both are valid."

"Do you think he got therapy? Because no way he got out of that without nightmares atleast or maybe PTSD?"

No answer.

They need a break.

They wanted to go throw away the book from the very first chapter or have a mental breakdown at every chapter they read.

Because. What.The. Hell.

The book isn't even finished yet.

Peter sat on the edge of Ned’s bed, the book lying open and forgotten beside him.

The room was quiet now, the earlier chaos of their joint reading session settled into a heavy silence.

His mind was still reeling.

He stared at the ceiling, hands clenched in his lap, the images from the book playing again and again behind his eyes like some awful movie reel.

A basilisk. A sword. A boy barely older than a kid facing down a monster. Alone.

A graveyard. A resurrection. A wand to his throat.

A trial where no one believed him.

Detentions that were closer to torture.

A godfather, finally found—only to be ripped away.

The weight of a war. The silence of grief.

Always more.

Always expected to save everyone.

Peter swallowed hard. He was no stranger to danger—he’d faced death himself.

This wasn’t superhero stuff. This was real. Raw.

Worse than any villain he’d fought.

Harry had never bragged.

Never even hinted at what he’d survived.

To Peter, he was just… Harry. Teddy’s dad. Delphi’s dad.

The quiet guy who made killer grilled cheese and knew too much about old books.

Who kept a watchful eye without hovering, who could spot a lie from a mile away, but never made you feel bad for it.

His big brother who would always help him.

His big brother who would always tease him.

His big brother who is too competent at everything he does.

His big brother who always listens to him without judgement.

Now Peter saw the cracks. The weight behind Harry’s steady voice. The reason why his eyes sometimes looked older than they should. 

It's because they saw pain. Loss. Torture. Sacrifice. War.

He understood why Harry is such a good dad at such a young age.

It's because he doesn't want his kids to go through what he went through.

He wants to give them a childhood he didn't get to have.

Peter rubbed his face. “Man,” he whispered, “he really has been through hell.”

But he’d come out the other side. Not perfect. But kind. Protective. Strong.

Peter wasn’t sure he could’ve done the same.

Peter wasn't sure even the Avengers could do it at 15.

His respect for Harry grew into something deeper.

Not worship.

Not fear.

But understanding.

Real, human understanding.

He finally understands his big brother. At least as much as possible from reading a book.

Peter picked the book back up slowly, like it was sacred. Or radioactive. 

Because really there are still two more parts to read. The dark lord. And The hidden manipulator.

Atleast They coverd the part about their big brother. Even if it's not his full story.

Maybe they should read the remaining part later?

The fact is they are barely able to process the information they read.

Probably for the best to leave the rest for another day.

Ned met Peter's eyes. His eyes show the same reluctance. 

They both silently agreed. It's best to leave it for now.

(They couldn't touch the book again. For a while.)

Peter is going to get a brother complex at this rate.

He wants to somehow hurt all those who hurt his brother.

(Ned: Are you sure you don't already have a brother complex?

Peter: You are in no position to accuse me Ned.

Ned: Fair.)

Peter really wants to drag Harry to therapy though.

(If both Peter and Ned cry when they are alone in their room—mourning for the lost childhood and for all the suffering a little boy—their big brother—, who once lived under a cupboard–whose greatest wish was a family that wants him– had to endure? Then no needs to know.)

Harry stepped into the apartment, shoulders stiff and robes smelling faintly of ash and antiseptic.

Another long shift.

Another mess cleaned up. His wand hand was still aching from shielding spells. He closed the door quietly, expecting silence (his kids would be asleep) or maybe an awkward nod from the boys after everything they’d read by now.

(The boys said they would crash here today.)

Instead—

“Hey!” Peter popped out of the kitchen like he’d been waiting for hours. “You look like crap.”

Harry blinked. “Thank you?”

“Sit down.” Peter shoved a steaming mug into his hands. “It’s hot chocolate. Kinda. Don’t judge.”

Harry glanced down.

The cocoa was a little too pale, and marshmallows had sunk to the bottom in surrender. The mug said “World’s Okayest Wizard.”

He snorted.

Ned lounged in Harry’s armchair, looking far too smug. “You’re late. We bet on whether you’d come back with scorch marks.”

Harry sipped. “Did I win?”

“Nope. You’ve got scorch marks and blood. Disqualified.”

“Ah. Tragic.”

Peter was already fumbling in the kitchen again. He opened a cabinet, closed it, opened another, then turned to Ned. “Where’s the cheese?”

“In the fridge, genius.”

Harry watched the chaos unfold: burnt grilled cheese, cutlery falling, Ned googling “how to cook without ruining someone’s childhood.” Peter yelling, “It’s fine! Harry’s eaten worse, probably!” as smoke wafted from the pan.

It was a disaster. And it was adorable.

Harry sat on the couch, sipping his gritty cocoa, holding back a laugh.

They were trying so hard. And failing beautifully.

“Retire, General Potter,” Ned declared, waving a spatula like a surrender flag. “We got this.”

Peter dropped a plate in front of him a few minutes later. The sandwich was half-burnt, but the look on their faces dared him to complain.

He didn’t.

He devoured it like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Later that night, Harry changed out of his robes and was about to collapse into bed when he noticed something beside his wand on the table.

A bracelet. Made from cheap beads, a string, and a piece of notebook paper folded into a tiny charm. A rune drawn shakily in pencil.

It wasn’t magical. Not even close.

He picked it up gently.

Tucked under it was a note in Peter’s handwriting, Ned’s messy doodles crowding the edges:

“Not because you need it. Just because you’re ours too.”

Harry sat down, bracelet clutched in his hand.

He didn’t cry.

But he did sit there for a long time, smiling to himself—still holding back laughter—because somehow,… he felt lighter.

Chapter Text

The house was silent, long after the laughter and warmth of the evening had faded. Harry lay in bed, eyes wide open, watching the ceiling like it might shift into another battlefield.

He didn’t sleep—not really. Not unless exhaustion dragged him under. And tonight, sleep had come, but it had not been kind.

The dream still clung to his skin.

Smoke. Blood. Screaming. Again. Always again.

The final battle played out in pieces—Neville screaming as the bridge exploded behind him, Lavender’s hand twitching in the rubble. Harry reaching for help and finding no one left.

And then it blurred—his nightmare never respected timelines.

Back to the Dursleys. To the too-small cupboard and the stench of bleach. To Dudley pounding on the door, chanting “Freak, freak, freak.”

To sitting in the hospital wing at eleven years old with broken ribs, telling Madame Pomfrey he’d tripped.

The shame still burned sometimes.

(His visits to the mind healer helped with much after war, but it's a slow process.)

He’d watched Cedric fall again. Watched Sirius slip through the veil. Felt the Cruciatus curse tear through his nerves. Heard his name screamed by students too young to be in battle. Watched Teddy’s mother die. Again. And again.

And worst of all—the faces. They always came last. Piled in a circle around him. Asking the same question.

Why didn’t you save me?

He sat up, clutching the blanket to his chest, heart hammering like war drums in his ears. In the quiet of the apartment, with only the distant hum of the city outside, it was too easy to fall back in.

He hated this part—the silence.

It gave the ghosts room to whisper.

Remus. Tonks. Sirius. Colin. Snape. Moody. 

They all visited, uninvited, and left him breathless.

He couldn’t save them.

He could command armies, win wars, wield magic most people only read about.

But he couldn’t save them. And it didn’t matter how many laws he rewrote or reforms he fought for.

The dead were still dead.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed his face, groaning softly into his palms.

He had children now.

Teddy. Delphi.

Bright, brilliant, reckless Teddy who shifted his eyes pink just to make Ned laugh. Quiet, clever Delphi who could sneak out of any play-pen and always somehow knew when Harry was sad.

They saw him as safe.

What if he failed them, too?

What if something slipped past his wards? What if a spell backfired? What if someone from the old days—came back again and Harry wasn’t fast enough?

He couldn’t lose them. He couldn’t.

They were the future. 

His future. He lives for them. 

(It would break him, if something happens to them.)

And then there was Tony.

Tony who had never once demanded answers, never pushed past the name “Evans,”— Even when he found out his real name is Potter.— never questioned the weird things.

Tony, who laughed with Teddy, held Delphi like she was made of stars,—It doesn't matter if he still panics sometimes when he holds them— and called Harry his own without even saying the words.

(Tony knew Delphi for only a day which he seemed to not care and still held like she's precious.

Which, fair. Delphi is precious.)

That terrified him more than anything.

Because Tony became too close to him in too little time. Without life or death situations too.

Because what happened when Tony found out the truth? That Harry wasn’t noble or righteous.

That he had blood on his hands. That he had once used a Cruciatus curse out of rage. That he had ordered people to kill, had held dying friends in his arms and lied to their families about what their last words were.

What if Tony looked at him and saw a monster?

Would he still call him family then?

Would he still trust him?

A sound broke his spiral—Delphi, murmuring in her sleep through the baby monitor.

Harry moved on instinct, gently lifting her plush dragon and tucking it under her arm. She settled instantly.

He stood there a long time, just watching her breathe.

He turned to his left, towards the other side of the bed where Teddy sleeps.

His chest ached.

He wasn’t sure if he was meant to have peace. He wasn’t sure he’d ever earn it.

But for their sake—Teddy’s, Delphi’s, Ned’s, Peter’s, even Tony’s—he would keep trying.

Even if the ghosts never left.

Even if the guilt never faded.

Even if he never slept through the night again.

He whispered into the darkness, voice breaking with the weight of it all:

“I’m still here. I’m still trying.”

But even in the stillness, the weight never left.

He remembered the early days after the war—the endless Ministry meetings, the whispers behind his back, the pressure.

Everyone wanted something.

The world saw him as hope, as a weapon, as the Boy Who Lived.

No one saw the boy who broke down every time he was alone.

He remembered the raw fear the day he got custody of Teddy, after Andy's death. He had stared at the parchment, shaking, and all he could think was I can’t do this. I’m going to ruin him.

And then Delphi.

The fear doubled.

(But he had to do it 

And he loves them to pieces)

He had stood in the dark with her in his arms, praying to whatever force existed that he wouldn’t mess her up.

He wasn’t a hero to them.

He had to be a father.

That scared him more than anything Voldemort ever had.

The adults in his life had failed him. Dumbledore, the Ministry, the Dursleys, the professors who looked the other way.

He couldn’t afford to be one of them.

He had friends. People who held him together even when he didn’t think he could be. 

But even then, Harry had stood at the center of it all. Always.

The world expected him to save them. So he did.

But it cost him. It always cost him.

He had taken his Lordships young—right after his name was entered in the Triwizard Tournament. He’d quietly used them as leverage. He had no choice.

He had entered the political arena before he could legally drink.

During the height of the war, while the Snatchers hunted muggleborns like prey, he coordinated with the Department of Mysteries and trusted Aurors. They used faulty portkeys to stage escapes. On paper, those muggleborns were declared dead.

In reality, they were alive. Safe. Hidden in safe houses shielded by ancient magic.

The Aurors, outwardly loyal to the Ministry, played their part well.

They burned the tips. Declared them invalid. Cited protocol.

They followed the law outwardly.

But secretly, they checked. If the tips were genuine—not death eater traps or orders—they moved. 

Harry coordinated it all in secret.

He exhaled, fingers tightening briefly around the railing of Delphi’s crib.

Maybe peace wasn’t something he’d ever get to keep.

But maybe, just maybe, he could build it for them.

"Rest Master. All will be well in time." The shadows whispered.

 That was enough.

Spoken in the Lovegood conservatory, before her death. Witnessed only by her daughter, Luna Lovegood, at the age of four. A Prophecy sung by Pandora Lovegood, a fates design to only be heard by her little child.

The last prophecy foretold by Pandora Lovegood.

“ The heir shall rise as all,
Forged in love and hope, tempered in pain and scars.
The world will not choose him,
But he will still answer.

With his loyal stars at his command.

Led through conviction and promise.

From shadowed blood and boundless pain,
The child of storms shall rise again.
Marked by both hope and endless death.

The shepherd shall guide the dark astray,
One cloaked in wisdom, who led hearts to fray—

A puppeteer draped in gold and guilt.

Darkness that lost its name.

Favored by Fate, by Magic, by Death—
He shall conquer not with curse or breath,
But with hands that hold and hearts made whole,
He mends the cracks the warlords stole.

He who walks with death and bows to none.
Born with love, shaped by pain,
A blade hidden beneath gentleness,
A storm wrapped in kindness.

He is Magic’s favor.
He is Death’s mercy.
He is Fate’s defiance.

Born not in light, nor shadow’s keep,
He walks his own through blade and book.

The flicker between mercy and might.
When two tyrants clash—one cloaked in lies of wisdom,
And one with a soul torn and sold—
He shall not kneel to either.

His name shall be a whisper and a roar.

The heir will shield what others would burn.
With a blade of truth and a voice of fire,
He shall carve the age to come.

Magic shall know him as a son.
Death shall walk beside him as a friend.
Fate shall favor him as a guide.

The heir will rebuild what was destroyed—
Not with power, but with promise.
Not for glory, but for love.

The child who walks beneath many names,
Bearing flame of future,
Shall shatter both wand and throne.

The Light will blind. The Dark will consume.
But he will see both—
And walk between.

The heir turned lord will bear the cost others dared not count.

The False Shepherd shall fall by truth’s whisper,
And the Lost Serpent by his own echo.

But the One who endures—
Shall weave their end into beginning.

He shall speak for the unseen,
Raise the forgotten,
Heal the magic cracked by old greed.

And when magic itself remembers its heart,
And through his hands,
The Age of Silence will end—
And the world will listen once more.

With his loyal stars at his command. Lead through conviction and promise.

Forged in love and hope, tempered in pain and scars.

The heir shall raise as all."

Location: unknown 

Time: unknown 

A prophecy was discovered deep within the Lost Texts —etched in runes and sealed in a scroll.

The scroll was rescued by early sorcerers and safeguarded within Kamar-Taj's Vault of Echoes. The prophecy became one of the core mystical texts studied by senior Masters.

Known by every sorcerer trained in Kamar-Taj, though its true subject was never understood.

Treated with reverence but also confusion—many believed it referred to a being that would rise in the far future or on another plane.

The subject of the prophecy often referred to as a symbol of endurance, hope, and rebirth.

“He shall be born of hidden fire,
Of boundless power and perseverance.
Raised in shadow, forged by grief,
Carved by duty no child should bear.

One born of war and genius,
A heart forged in pain and love,
Will guard the dying light of living,
And carry it into galaxies unnamed.

He will lift his hands to the stars.
And the heavens will answer.

The child shall stand where gods fall,
And hold the line where titans kneel.

The boy with no throne shall become the man without limits.
First son of stars.

He shall wield not one legacy, but two—
One of blood, one of will.
One forged in battlefields,
The other in circuits and smoke.

He will rise where balance ends,
And begin where time rewinds.

The skies will fall, the earth will burn,
And the dead shall walk in dust and silence.
In that hour, the child of two legacies
Will hold the balance.

And when the world ends not in flame but in silence,
He will stand between.

The Chosen of No One.
The Last Hope of Many.
The Spark between Life and Ash.

The Titan shall offer death,
The world shall offer surrender,
But he shall offer something neither expect—hope.

When the stars scream,
When the gauntlet closes,
He shall not run.

The bearer of Fate’s favor,
Magic’s heir,
Death’s friend,
And the legacy of Iron—
He will face the end of all things.

And choose to begin again.”

Chapter Text

“Dinner at the Tower,” Tony had said, like it was a casual thing.

Harry wasn’t sure if any meal involving Tony Stark was ever casual.

But he came—because it was Tony, and because Tony had said, “I want you to meet my science bro.” Then added, “Bring the kids. He should meet the whole weird unit.”

So now Harry stood in the Tower’s main kitchen, Delphi chewing on his hoodie strings while Teddy zoomed around the island pretending to be a spaceship.

Tony, of course, was leaning against the counter looking far too smug.

Which is, fair, normal.

“You nervous?” Tony asked, passing him a drink.

“I don’t get nervous,” Harry said smoothly, catching Delphi before she could dive off his shoulder.

“I get quietly concerned.”

“Yeah, that’s called nerves.”

Before Harry could throw something, the elevator dinged—and in walked Bruce Banner.

He looked different than in the pictures Harry had seen.

A little tired around the eyes, but warm in the way that felt real, like someone who had been through hell and still chose gentleness.

Harry felt something familiar in that quiet sadness.

Something that reminded him of Remus.

(I want you to be my child's godfather Harry. There is no one I would trust my son with. no other than you.

He pushed away the thought)

Bruce smiled. “Hey, Tony.”

Tony grinned and pulled him into a quick, brotherly hug.

“Welcome to chaos, big guy. ”

Then, Tony stepped aside and motioned toward Harry. “This is Harry. My kid. These are the gremlins—Teddy and Delphi.”

Bruce blinked, his eyes briefly flickering toward the children as Teddy ran up to him with zero hesitation.

“Are you the Hulk?” Teddy asked breathlessly. “Can you turn big and green right now?”

Bruce froze. “Uh. Not... not right now, no.”

Teddy beamed. “That’s okay. I think you’re awesome! You're strong and green and huge! I want to be big too.”

(Harry: *holding back a sigh of relief*  Thank goodness, Teddy didn't figure out how to change his skin colour yet or they would have a problem right now.)

Delphi watched her brother, then looked up at Bruce. Her big eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Then she raised her arms.

“Up?”

Bruce hesitated.

Harry caught the moment instantly—the way Bruce’s hands tensed at his sides, the flicker of worry in his expression.

“I… probably shouldn’t,” Bruce said quietly.

“Just in case.”

Harry chose this moment to get involved, his voice firm but kind. “Dr. Banner. It’s okay.”

“I haven’t been around kids,” Bruce murmured.

“Not really. It’s just… what if—”

Harry raised a brow. “What if you turn into a big green rage monster?”

Bruce blinked.

Harry shrugged. “Yah, big deal. I doubt Hulk would hurt my cubs, it's more likely he will protect them instead.”

Not empty words because he can feel it.

Can feel Hulk's curiosity.

When Bruce entered the room, something... shifted.

Harry felt it.

There was a presence— powerful. 

For the first time, Harry sensed the Hulk.

And the Hulk... was curious.

Not angry.

Nothing that suggests malicious intent at all.

Now there is something else added to the curiosity.

Like the Hulk wants to— to coo?

Any way, Harry decided that if the rage monster wants to coo, then he's fine with his kids getting another protecter.

Tony, sipping his drink in the background, grinned. That’s my son.

Bruce, despite himself, smiled. Like father like son.

Harry offered Delphi over. “She’ll let you know if she doesn’t like something. Trust me.”

Gingerly, Bruce took the toddler. She settled in his arms like she belonged there.

Teddy clung to his leg with a proud grin.

Bruce let out a soft laugh, one hand supporting Delphi and the other still a little stiff.

Watching Teddy cling to Bruce’s leg and giggle. Letting Delphi babble nonsense into Bruce’s collar.

Bruce blinked, but didn’t speak. Not out loud.

He feels weird, Hulk’s voice echoed in Bruce’s mind. Strong. Like a big storm or an angry ocean.But safe. It's weird. Like the ocean is both angry and calm.

Bruce remained quiet, adjusting Delphi slightly.

He has green eyes, Hulk added, thoughtful. Pretty. Glowing. Shadows like him.

Bruce raised an eyebrow internally. 

Green eyes is small. But not small.

Bruce didn't argue. 

He glanced at Harry, who was gently pinching off Teddy’s cheek while talking to Tony. For all the light in the scene, Bruce could see it—the weight Harry carried. It was in his posture. 

Bruce outwardly smiled faintly.

It was concerning.

Flashback - Months Ago

In the mountains beyond Nepal, Bruce had wandered into a reclusive village—half-starving, exhausted, and desperate not to turn green again.

There he met a hermit. A silent man with no name who spoke little, but taught Bruce a new kind of meditation.

A method that let him go deep into his own mind.

For the first time, Bruce met Hulk.

It was terrifying.

They didn’t agree on anything. They yelled. They fought. Eventually, they spoke and they listened.

They came to an understanding: Hulk would not hurt unless they were in danger. He would protect, not destroy.

Since then, Hulk had become more than just an angry echo. He spoke now, sometimes unprompted—dropping thoughts, comments, or complaints into Bruce’s head like a roommate who didn’t know personal space.

But it worked.

It kept them balanced.

They settled into dinner—something vaguely pasta-adjacent that Tony definitely didn’t make himself. The table was full of half-lucid toddler stories, interrupted attempts at adult conversation, and Bruce slowly relaxing.

They didn’t talk about politics.Or secrets.

They talked about weird food cravings, the pros and cons of building robot babysitters, and how Teddy once got his head stuck in a cauldr–bowl for fifteen minutes. 

(Teddy was 2 at that time. It was at that moment  that Harry decided to teach magic safety.

He also needs to teach Teddy to not slip up among no-maj.

Hopefully both Dr. Banner–call me Bruce– and Tony didn't notice.

Hopefully.)

Harry chuckling when Delphi smeared sauce on her face like war paint, teasing Tony when he burned the garlic bread (“You own AI assistants and not one can cook?”), and sneakily slipping vegetables ontoTeddy’s plate when the boy wasn’t looking.

Bruce watched it all, strangely charmed. Not just by the kids—but by Harry. 

Didn't Tony say that Harry was 16 or something?

This is very concerning.

Why is a kid acting more adult like than most adults? And taking care of children?

A kid raising kids? What the heck has the world come to!

Very concerning.

Dinner had been loud, messy, and somehow successful. Delphi was full, Teddy was vibrating with energy.

Teddy, in a bold move of post-pasta ambition, dove under the couch.

“I need supplies for Pillow Fort!” he declared.

While Delphi clapped enthusiastically from the floor, Teddy began dragging cushions and blankets toward the center of the living room.

In his search, he found something small, metallic, and blinking under the couch.

“Cool,” he whispered—and poked it.

The drone hummed to life.

One of Tony’s not-yet-approved prototypes, it had been abandoned after failing its last test. It was supposed to immobilize targets by launching soft foam rounds that hardened on contact.

Only it never hardened. Instead, it covered everything in foam.

The drone beeped once.

Then fired.

PFFT!

A foam dart smacked into Tony’s chest.

(If Harry weaved protection around everyone the moment he sensed a projectile, then no one needs to know.)

“What the hell—Teddy!”

“Pillow Fort defends itself!” Teddy yelled gleefully, before bolting around the coffee table.

Delphi shrieked with joy and toodled after him, giggling.

Tony ducked as another round of foam blasted from the drone.

“FRIDAY! Disable that thing!”

“Working on it, Boss,” FRIDAY replied smoothly, “but it is technically operating within its intended parameters. You did say you wanted adaptive target behavior.”

Tony growled, “It’s attacking us!”

Another foam dart hit Bruce in the leg.

Bruce yelped. “What even is that?!”

“Harry, help.” Tony hissed, diving behind the couch.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who left it under the furniture.”

Tony knew he shouldn’t leave his tech outside of the lab.

He should have listened to Pepper.

In his defense, he forgot he left it there, and it was hidden under the couch when he cleaned up the living room before the kids came for dinner.

FRIDAY added helpfully, “Incoming projectile. Dr. Banner—brace. Boss—duck now. Oops. A second too late.”

Tony got hit square in the shoulder.

Harry, leaning against the kitchen archway, was shaking with silent laughter.

He had a hand over his mouth, shoulders trembling. Responsible? Sure. But he was also a Marauder’s son.

This was gold.

At that moment, the elevator dinged and Rhodey stepped in—only to be greeted by foam to the face.

“What the actual hell?!”

“Welcome to game night,” Bruce said, ducking another round.

Teddy, now emboldened, began running around everyone. “Get Uncle Rhodey! He’s the boss level!”

Delphi, ever the chaos enabler, squealed, “BOOSSSSS!” and chased—well, toodled after him.

FRIDAY was clearly having the time of her digital life. “Teddy—left! Dodge incoming. Nice work! baby boss. Colonel Rhodes, incoming foam—”

Another dart smacked Rhodey on the back of the head.

“FRIDAY!” Tony yelled again.

“Disabling now,” she said. Then added, “Eventually. They are surprisingly agile. And loud.”

Bruce, mid-dodge, said, “This is worse mayhem than you create sometimes Tony."

“YES! FUN! HIT HIM AGAIN!” came Hulk’s booming mental cheer.

Bruce sighed internally. Not helping.

“MORE FOAM!”

Rhodey managed to clear some foam off his face, glaring at Harry. “Aren’t you supposed to be the adult here?!”

Because, true, his nephew was more adult than some adults. And definitely more mature than Tony and more stern than Bruce.

Among Tony, Bruce, Teddy, and Delphi — Harry was definitely the adult.

Harry, barely holding it together, just smiled with his shoulder shaking.

As another foam dart came hurtling toward him, Harry flawlessly sidestepped it. His eyes twinkled with mischief. Not a speck on him.

Tony, still crouched, looked up. “You’re enjoying this.”

Harry finally let out a snort and burst out laughing.

That was definitely the most inelegant and carefree Tony and Rhodey had seen him.

Rhodey thought it was worth it, if getting covered in foam helped his nephew to loosen up.

The bot spun once, attempted to launch another round—and promptly made a high-pitched whiiir before dropping lifelessly to the floor.

“System shutdown complete,” FRIDAY said, with way too much sass.

Silence.

Foam covered everything.

Delphi collapsed into Bruce’s lap in a fit of giggles and shrieks. Teddy flopped over Tony’s feet, howling in laughter .

Rhodey looked like a walking marshmallow. Bruce looked like he was reconsidering every life choice.

Only Harry remained untouched.

Well, Harry and Delphi, thanks to the protective layer he’d quietly weaved around her.

He doesn't dare to find out if the foam is toddler friendly or not.

(Sometime later they would wonder.

How did Delphi–a toodler–dodge the foam darts?)

Everyone turned to Harry accusingly.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “You’re not even hit.”

Harry blinked at them, all innocence. “I guess I’m just naturally graceful.”

Tony groaned. Rhodey looked like he was plotting something. Bruce just shook his head.

“Next time,” Tony muttered, “we’re eating out.”

Bruce said wryly, “And get kicked out after the first 10 minutes.”

Rhodey let out a snort.

Harry, who had taken deep breaths to stop laughing, burst out laughing again.

Later, after the kids had crashed, Bruce leaned back in his chair.

“You’ve got a good thing here,” he said.

Harry looked at, where Delphi snored gently on Teddy’s chest.

“I hope so,” he said softly. “And I’m gonna do my everything to protect it.”

Bruce nodded. Very concerning indeed.

Rhodey has pride shining in his eyes.

Tony his his smile.

And in the back of Bruce’s mind, Hulk rumbled.

Green Eyes is strong and kind. Let's Keep him. Then I can play with the cubs whenever.

Chapter Text

I have posted my work in Quotev.

https://www.quotev.com/story/16993894/When-Magic-Meets-Iron

This is closest to how I imagine my characters.

Key word being: closest. 

My version of Harry Potter does not have glasses. 

Teddy goes with whatever colour he likes in private but takes after Harry in public.

Delphi and Harry have different shades of black/brown hair.

Delphi and Teddy definitely have Harry's green eyes, nose and skin tone from blood adoption in my version.

Created by AI. Not my work, Hence not how I actually imagine them.

You are free to imagine them however you like.

https://i.quotev.com/74fesnks4nha.jpg — Harry Potter. Ignore the glasses. Not accurate but close.

https://i.quotev.com/m3a2nqmhwl5q.jpg —Teddy. Again, Not accurate but close.

https://i.quotev.com/we5etivjqawa.jpg — Delphi. Similarly, Not accurate but close.

https://i.quotev.com/s4i3q6llllea.jpg —  Delphi and Harry. Again ignore the glasses.

https://i.quotev.com/qyl3hqha3wtq.jpg — Delphi and Harry part 2.

https://i.quotev.com/4spakhbw3i2q.jpg — Teddy and Harry.

Chapter Text

The kids were finally winding down.

Teddy was curled up in Harry’s lap on the couch, a soft blanket wrapped around him.

Delphi was snuggled against Bruce, who looked both baffled and honored. Rhodey was smiling faintly.

It had been a wild evening.

Harry was humming something under his breath, soothing.

Delphi was already asleep.

Teddy’s eyes were fluttering.

In a whisper that's not really a whisper, Teddy said, "Today was fun, let's do it again."

Harry chuckled in amusement. Said in a fond tone, "Sure cub, as long as your grandpa is okay with it."

Tony snorted.

Teddy hummed then asked something which broke hearts.

“Will Grandpa Tony leave me like Grandma Andy if I’m not good?”

The words were slurred with sleep—but they still slammed into Tony like a punch to the gut.

He saw Harry stiffen.

For a second, no one said anything.

Just silence and a kid asking a question that shouldn’t have existed in the first place.

Harry’s voice came first.

“No, cub. Tony’s not going anywhere.”

But Teddy’s head was already turning toward him.

Tony swallowed and moved closer, kneeling in front of the couch. He put a hand gently on Teddy’s blanket-covered foot.

“Hey, kiddo. Look at me.”

Teddy blinked slowly, halfway between dreams and questions.

“I’m not leaving. Not even if you’re grumpy. Or messy. Or you put juice in the server rack.”

Rhodey snorted softly behind him.

Tony smiled.

“You’re good, Teddy. But even if you weren’t, I’d still love you. That’s what family means. Okay?”

Teddy nodded sleepily. A little smile on his face.

“Okay,” he murmured, and fell into a full sleep.

Tony looked up to see Harry watching him.

Something cracked in those green eyes. And before Tony could ask—

A tear slipped down Harry’s cheek.

“Hey—what? What’s wrong?”

Another tear. Then another.

“Harry—?”

He hadn’t meant to cry.

He didn’t even feel it coming.

Teddy’s question had hit like a curse straight to the chest. The kind that echoed with old wounds and half-healed breaks. He’d thought he was used to it. That the ache dulled with time.

But watching Tony kneel in front of Teddy, say those words—those gentle, unconditional, grounding words—

Something in Harry broke.

Or maybe something in him healed.

Because for a split second, he saw another version of his life.

One where the Dursleys weren’t part of it. One where a man like Tony Stark had scooped him up from the rubble of Godric’s Hollow and said, “You’re enough.”

Would Tony have told him that back then?

Would he have hugged a crying boy with a scar and told him he didn’t have to save the world just to be loved?

Harry didn’t know.

But watching him with Teddy...

That hidden part of him—the part still curled up in a cupboard, waiting for a letter or a rescue but has long since given up—it felt seen.

And then Tony asked, panicked, what was wrong.

Harry couldn’t answer.

So he stood, after gently laying Teddy down on the pillow.

And he hugged him.

Arms tight. Face buried in Tony’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Again. And again. “Thank you.”

The tears didn’t stop.

For once, they didn’t hurt.

Tony froze.

His kid—his kid—was crying.

And hugging him. For the first time.

Tony felt a tangle of emotions slam into him all at once.

Joy. Raw, beautiful joy that Harry was trusting him enough to lean on him.

Panic—because he didn’t know why Harry was crying and he didn’t know how to fix it.

He was holding his kid for the first time, and his kid smelled like forest and rain, like home and something calm and grounded and right.

But his kid was also shaking, and Tony’s stomach twisted with helplessness.

He wanted to punch something. Someone.

Probably the Dursleys.

Hell, definitely the Dursleys.

Whatever part of Harry’s past made him flinch, whatever made this kind of comfort unfamiliar—it made Tony’s blood boil.

And still—he was happy.

Because Harry had chosen him. Chosen to come to him, to cry into his shoulder, to say thank you like it meant something.

When the said thank you is not necessary at all.

And Tony didn’t know what to do. Not really.

So he did the only thing he could.

He hugged back. Fiercely. Arms tight around Harry’s back, hand cradling the base of his neck.

He looked toward Bruce and Rhodey, silently begging for help.

But he didn’t expect the look in their eyes.

Anger.

Quiet, furious anger.

At whoever or whatever hurt Harry enough to make this moment necessary.

In hindsight, Tony should have expected it.

After all Rhodey and Bruce definitely know something or someone hurt his kid from this reaction alone.

Rhodey from the trip to London and Bruce is intelligent enough to connect the dots.

Harry didn’t let go for a long time.

Tony didn’t move either.

Slowly and gently, began to rub slow circles along his son’s back. It felt like the only thing he could do.

The only anchor he could offer in whatever storm Harry was still carrying.

Eventually, Harry’s breathing evened out.

He had fallen asleep, still tucked into Tony’s shoulder, arms curled around him like he was afraid to let go even in sleep.

Rhodey approached quietly, his usual smirk nowhere in sight. Instead, he was soft, calm.

This was The man who had watched Tony fall apart and helped him get back up again.

He draped a blanket gently over Harry’s back.

Tony looked down at the boy—no, the young man—curled up against him.

His son.

Harry. It doesn't matter what surname he chooses to use. Potter, Peverell, Evans –it doesn't matter.

Harry is a Stark.

His Son.

And yet, in sleep, Harry looked so impossibly young.

It was somehow easy to ignore he's just sixteen when he's awake, Despite his short height.

It's because of how he behaves and his aura.

But now he looks so young.

Younger than Peter.

Tear tracks still marked his cheeks, drying in streaks across soft skin.

Tony’s chest ached.

Harry stirred slightly, murmuring something incomprehensible, and Bruce frowned. 

Bruce had noticed his gloves.

He crouched beside the couch, his voice quiet.

“Do you think he’s uncomfortable?”

Tony shook his head. “Maybe, He's asleep but I don't think wearing leather gloves is comfortable."

Bruce’s hand hovered near Harry’s, uncertain. Then, with the kind of gentle precision that came from years of working with fragile things, he slowly began to roll up one sleeve.

He had trusted Harry, respected his privacy. He hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t asked about the gloves or the long sleeves Harry never took off.

Even lounging. Even when waking up and still half asleep.

Tony had chalked it up to fashion. To anything but the worst.

He wasn't prepared for the cruel reality as Tony watched.

He wasn’t ready.

The gloves were long—reaching halfway up the forearm—and Bruce tugged gently at one until it slipped off.

The back of Harry’s hand was pale. 

Scarred.

Not of slashes or burns.

But With Words.

Carved into skin like someone had taken a knife and made it a pen.

I must not tell lies.

Tony’s breath caught.

Rhodey leaned in and went still.

Bruce looked physically ill.

“What the hell,” Tony whispered voice and mind oddly without any emotion. “Who… who does this to a child?”

To his child?

Tony felt someone stole his breath. His mind feels like static.

Rhodey’s voice was tight with anger. “ That’s... Torture. Someone Tortured Him.”

Bruce didn’t say anything. He just gently, carefully, rotated Harry’s forearm.

His lips pressed tight into a firm line. Eyes bright green in anger.

The sleeve rode up further.

Another scar.

This one cut deep across the soft inner flesh from wrist to forearm—diagonal. Old but angry-looking. Scar tissue ridged and pale.

Not accidental.

And definitely not from a fight.

Tony stared.

His brain couldn’t quite wrap around it.

“That’s—”

“A suicide attempt,” Rhodey finished, low and grim.

“No,” Bruce growled. “Not an attempt. That’s… that’s how you mean it.”

Tony felt like the floor had opened under him.

His son. His brilliant, funny, brave son—

Had once been in that much pain.

He felt sick. Furious. Useless.

“I didn’t know,” he said, voice breaking. “I didn’t ask. I thought—I thought he was just... .”

Rhodey didn’t blame him. “We all thought that.”

Bruce eyes still light with bright green.

Then, silently, he moved to the other side and removed the second glove.

This time, they all braced themselves. And it still wasn't enough.

The second hand had no writing—but the skin along the wrist as scared and rough, like something had been cinched too tight.

It looked like he’d been shackled.

Flesh still carried the deep impressions—permanent damage. Bruises turned to thick scarring. Scars that screamed of resistance. Of someone trying hard to break free.

Rhodey inhaled sharply.

Someone held Harry captive.

Had him shackled.

Tony didn’t even speak. He was frozen.

Bruce looked like he was going to shatter the floor.

From somewhere deep in Bruce’s mind, a voice rumbled.

“They hurt kind green eyes,” Hulk snarled.

“Hulk will smash them.”

“Rip their bones. Crush their skulls. Tear their skin.”

Bruce clenched his fists and forced a breath out through his nose.

“I want names,” Tony whispered. “I don’t care who they are. Where they are. I will destroy them.”

Rhodey, voice steady but burning, said, “I’ll cover you. I’ll make it legal. Or make it disappear.”

Tony finally looked up.

“This—my kid—was tortured. Shackled. Carved into.”

The air felt electric with fury.

Tony’s arms tightened around Harry protectively.

He would never let anyone touch his son like that again.

And whoever did?

He was coming for them.

                                OMAKE

"A suicide attempt,” Rhodey finished, low and grim.

(Harry: WHAT!!! NO!!!)

“No,” Bruce growled. “Not an attempt. That’s… that’s how you mean it.”

(Harry: Mate— Mate– back up, it's a misunderstanding!!!

Tony: *Heartbroken*

Harry: Nooo, listen to me Dad, It's a misunderstanding. Draco help!!!

Draco:*snorts*  you're on your own.

*Pats Harry's shoulder*

Harry *pouts*: Traitor!!!)

Chapter Text

Hey, lovely readers!! 👋

Your favorite (and slightly chaotic) author here with a quick heads-up! So, life, in its infinite wisdom, decided to throw a few curveballs my way, meaning updates have hit a temporary snag. Think of it less as a halt and more as a dramatic pause for effect! 🎭

But fear not, my dear literary companions! The story isn't going anywhere, except maybe to a spa for a little glow-up. ✨ That's right, the fic is officially going under a bit of editing. Don't worry, the heart and soul (and all your beloved plot points!) of the story will remain exactly the same. We're just talking about a little sprucing up, some better wording here, a smoother sentence there, maybe teaching a few commas where they really belong. 😉

The good news? I'm never abandoning it! You're stuck with me (and this story) for the long haul. The next chapter will be dropping once this little editing adventure is complete, and I'm crossing all my fingers and toes that it'll be "soon" soon!