Since many people I am sure need a refresher on where this is at (as did I when I went to write this chapter….) here we are:
Peter Parker has recently discovered that he has unknown powers. Bruce is trapped by U.S. Army and General Ross somewhere, and Harry has started a blood ritual to find him. Minister Fudge is attempting to get Harry's Wizengamont seats taken away as he is not the true blood child of James Potter. Hermione has realized that Harry's father is Tony Stark. Victor Von Doom has tempted Harry with soul magic that could possibly bring back the dead. Tony has opened a project called Extremis based off what he saw while rescuing Rhodey from MODOK. Loki, Thor, and Hel are on earth looking for the Master of Death. Tony is enlisting Jasper Reyes to help with the whole mess with Angela Yasui and the EPC. Matt Murdock is working behind the scenes to charge the Dursleys with child abuse. Harry's bodyguards are Luke Cage and Danny Rand.
On to the very belated Chapter 25. Cheers!
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
First, Peter Parker freaked out.
By freaked out, Peter's brain kept cycling through what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. He stared at his hand, and then up at the mirror. He looked normal, if not a bit spooked. He felt himself starting to hyperventilate.
He quickly turned on the bathroom fan hoping to drown out his breathing. It was an outrageously loud noise that his aunt and uncle had complained about for years. Peter always told them they were being dramatic.
However, this was different. His ears felt as if his ear drums were exploding from the inside.
Peter moved without thinking. Any rational person would just turn off the damn fan. Any rational person would open the door and escape the noise.
Peter, however, was not acting rationally.
He sprung towards the window, turning the latch and opening it without a thought. Within two seconds flat, Peter found himself hanging from the exterior windowsill. The gap between his apartment and the building next to them was maybe two feet, but there were six flights in the air.
Despite that, Peter felt far calmer and in control of himself than he had in the bathroom.
That noise was gone. There was an instinct in him that screamed safe.
He was not safe, well, he should not feel safe. He was hanging sixty to seventy feet above the ground. A fall from this height should kill him. But his muscles held in a way he had never experienced.
Peter flexed his fingers feeling the grip of each one had against the wood. He – surprisingly easily – pulled his body up and reached up to grab the wood trim above the window.
Peter had never in his life been able to do a pull-up. It had always been something reserved for the athletes of his school. Peter had never been necessarily envious, but he had watched the other guys in gym class jump up and easily do ten without a sweat.
Peter's asthma had always made him dread gym class since he first started school. One of his earliest memories of elementary school was being seven years old and having an asthma attack trying to run a half mile.
Peter had felt so humiliated and singled out when the gym teachers had told him that, "Everyone has their own limits." Peter's limits just happened to be the lowest out of any of them. The other children were not nice about it and Peter felt othered for the first time.
That didn't include when he was eight and asked to make a family tree. Or when the teacher made him sit out of a math competition in class when he was nine because he won the last three. Peter felt humiliated because he was just trying to do what the teachers said, and he felt like he was being punished for being smart. Looking back, he understood that the Mr. Wilson was trying to give other students opportunities, but Peter didn't understand at the time.
Nonetheless, Peter pulled himself up onto the ledge. Then, by instinct, he reached up and…
Gripped wasn't the right word, rather the better word would be attached. Peter attached himself to the brick through his grip. He pulled himself up, once, twice, three times, until he was hanging from the building only through his hands.
Peter knew that if he stopped for a second to think about what was happening, he would freak the hell out. He continued to scale the wall until he reached the top of the building. He reached around the ledge and hauled himself up and around onto the roof of his building.
There was a guy on the other end of the roof. He recognized the man as on of the other apartment owners. He was deep in conversation on the phone.
"— telling you, I have no idea what's up with this guy. I swear to god, one day all he wants to do is come over and watch movies, and the next he leaves bails on me literally right as I am waking out the door."
Peter froze, feeling both as if he were intruding and terrified that the man would turn around and see him hanging over the side of the building.
Then, clear as day, Peter heard the woman on the other end of the line respond. Her voice was warm, but slightly annoyed.
"Eli," she said, "You have to be clear with Daniel. Stop gripping to me on the phone about not knowing what he's thinking and just ask him. For fuck's safe, you're almost twenty-eight. I have giving you this advice since high-school."
"I know Anne, it's just –"
"Just what? Stop getting yourself into these situations with partners and just communicate."
Eli grumbled and started to turn around. Peter immediately started crawling his way back down the side of the building. He could hear Eli's footsteps heading his way.
Peter froze, trying not make any noise.
"I know, I know. I just really like this one, and the sex –"
"I am not listening to my younger brother talk about his sex life."
Eli's footsteps stopped and Peter could see him standing directly over the side of the wall he was on. Eli laughed, and Peter tried to push himself flat against the wall as if that would do anything to change that he was only five feet from the man and completely visible if he were to glance down.
Could he make himself invisible he wondered?
Probably not, Peter had pretty shit luck.
Thankfully, Eli turned around and started walking to the other end of the rooftop. Peter, quietly as he could, started to scale himself back down the wall until he reached his bathroom window.
He slipped inside, gritting his teeth at the noise of the fan.
He flipped it off and stared in the mirror. There was a faint mark on his neck where he had felt the pain at Oscoprs.
On a hunch, he pulled his shift off and stared at himself.
A breathed out a low, "fuck." His shoulder, his chest, and abs were all defined like the football players at Midtown. Literally yesterday he had been all skin and bones. Now he looked like he spent an hour in the gym every day.
Thank god it was summertime because how the hell would he have been able to explain this to the kids in the locker room at school.
This wasn't scientifically possible. Muscles didn't sprout overnight. His fingers shouldn't be able to grip the sheer side of the wall. Human ear drums shouldn't be able to pick up a voice on the other end of a phone call when the person was using earbuds.
Peter took deep breaths trying not to feel monumentally overwhelmed.
Peter knew he should immediately tell a responsible adult what had happened. Uncle Ben would already kill him – well, maybe just be seriously disappointed – for not telling him right away.
Even Tony fucking Stark was an option with Harry around. But Peter's heart pounded, and his brain spun, and he knew that as much as he should say something, he wasn't going to.
At least, not until he knew what was going on.
Peter turned around and shut the bathroom window. He turned on the shower. He could pretend for a couple hours and pretend it way all okay.
Peter needed answers. He knew that started with a microscope and research.
….
Astral projection was not something that most magic users did, especially in the British magic community. It was far more common in shaman cultures, centered around spiritual rituals and connecting to one's ancestors.
Even then, it was only done by the most accomplished, practiced, and powerful magic users. It required pushing one's essence – their soul – outside of the physical body for a limited amount of time.
It was dangerous, for sure, but not really for Harry. He had been utterly fascinated by the topic of souls when he had first come to Hogwarts. Harry had been stunned by the presence of ghosts. Most witches and wizards didn't even balk at the apparitions, but they blew Harry's eleven-year-old mind.
At that age, he was already deep into his study of the natural world. The fact ghosts were literally dead humans – and sometimes non-humans – that wondered the earth as walking souls shook his perception of human consciousness and the afterlife.
Really, the magical world had no idea how long muggle scientists and philosophers had been debating the very topic.
Harry had always attributed human's belief in a soul as something that came from the human need to understand. Prior to science explaining that emotions and impulses arise from our limbic systems, attributing them to a soul seemed rational.
In many ways, Harry had fallen for the fallacy of linear progress, believing that what we know now is greater than what we know in the past implicitly. No. That was not true. Especially once Harry learned about magic.
The Greeks and Romans treatises on magical theory were some of the texts that Harry tended to pull from the most, especially when it came to broad theory.
Harry remembers the quote from Plato's work Phaedo, "This then is what is called death, a release and separation from our soul from the body."
Harry was sure, of course, that his work on the magical theory behind souls was exactly what got Dr. Victor Von Doom interested in him.
Harry had of course promised his father that he would inform him of any dangerous magic. This was, of course, dangerous magic. Harry was about to separate his soul from his physical form to project to find Dr. Banner. Not true separation of course, that would be death.
Yes, it was dangerous, but it was also something Harry had done plenty of times. Harry's research may be mostly theoretically, but it needed grounding in the practical.
Harry may not have done the tracking portion of the spell, but the rest was as comfortable to him as lumos.
As the last word of the ritual left his mouth, Harry closed his eyes in the Avenger's tower and opened them to blinding white lights. It was a bizarre feeling, being incorporeal, but one that Harry was used to.
Harry took in his surroundings. It was a rather small room with what appeared to be thick metal walls. On the wall Harry was facing was a large thick cut out glass window. Harry could see an observation area above with some muggles milling about. They would not be able to see him.
The room was filled with medical equipment and monitors. Most of it looked jerry-rigged and incongruous, as the machines were not designed to be in the room.
He did not have much time until he would be pulled back to his body. The time depended on the distance of which Harry was projecting his soul. Of course, Harry did not know where Bruce was, so he couldn't get an accurate estimate of how much time he had. Further, Harry had no idea how the irradiated blood would affect the ritual.
Thus, time was of the essence.
Bruce was in front of him – not appearing as a raging gamma monster as his father had described – but asleep in human appearance. He was strapped down with heavy metal ties. Of course, Harry had the immediate reaction of wanting to burst out his wand and spell Bruce free and awake.
However, he could not do that in this form. He willed his incorporeal form forward. Harry's plan was to phase out of the room and search for some sort of indication of where they were located. A map or signage would do. However, just as Harry's incorporeal form moved through Bruce, he felt jolted. Something was stirring in Bruce. Almost magical. Harry pulled as hard as he could with his magic, which was exhausting at this distance from his body, to barely nudge whatever magical phenomenon was occurring in Bruce.
Harry felt his body in the Avenger's tower slump in exhaustion just as Bruce and some sort of creature appeared in front of him, both in incorporeal form. It must be the gamma monster his father was talking about.
Bruce looked at him wide-eyed. He opened his mouth as if he were attempting to speak, but nothing came out. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to. The creature lumbered around the room, confused and dazed.
Harry motioned to Bruce to follow him. Bruce took an – unnecessary – deep breath and hesitantly started to move forward. He mouthed to Harry some sort of statement. Harry paused, unsure of how to respond. Bruce then started to sign at him, also something Harry had never learned.
Bruce sighed, motioned forward as they floated out of the room.
The cool metal washed over their bodies as they escaped the room. The creature stayed behind.
Bruce and Harry sulked through thin long corridor. Two American soldiers appeared garbed in blue cameo. Bruce immediately ducked, concerned. Harry shook his head at him and gave him a wry smile as he floated forward towards the two women.
" – the meeting is at 1400. Lieutenant Richards ordered an all-hands-on deck. I think there is going to be a working party afterwards – "
"I don't want to be caught up in that."
"I don't think we have a choice. General Ross is here. What is the Army doing –"
The two women walked by Harry and Bruce, their steps quick and efficient. After a moment,
Bruce realized that he was not going to be seen and stood up straight.
Harry could feel the ritual magic begin to weaken. They didn't have much time. Harry increased his speed. He was starting to suspect something. Harry led Bruce to a set of stairs. Bruce moved to crawl down, but Harry had a sinking suspicion.
He motioned to Bruce to follow him up the stairs. They climbed up a circular well passing four doors on the way up until they ran straight into a hatch. Harry and Bruce phased through the door. Harry could feel the weight Bruce's reaction next to him. Although Bruce could not make any noise, Harry could swear he heard a gasp.
Because before them, lay an endless expanse of blue…
….
"A boat! They thought it was a good idea to put the Hulk on a boat. A fucking boat," Tony groaned.
"To be fair," Steve interjected, "We did take the Hulk on a helicarrier."
"First, Fury was the one who decided it was a good idea to put the Hulk on a helicarrier. Second, look how well that turned out," Tony retorted. "We were lucky that Bruce didn't ground our asses in middle America while Reindeer Games let loose in New York City."
"You know Tony, I watched that movie and Loki is nothing like Ben Affleck's character…"
"I refuse to explain. It will no longer be funny."
"I just think you didn't think through the nickname."
"Boys, boys, we have a Hulk to rescue that – need I remind you – is trapped on a boat somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic," Natasha drawled.
"He's specifically on the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Claremont which is 100 nautical miles off the coast of Greenland," Steve said grimly.
Fury finally chose that moment to speak. "As much as I dislike General Ross, Dr. Banner is on a
U.S. helicarrier. It would be a political nightmare for the Avengers to be seen attacking our own men. I will contact General Ross and we will go about this in a more diplomatic fashion."
"Excuse me," Tony responded, "I have one of my friends currently in a coma in the hospital and another being held captive on a fucking ship. I'm sorry, fuck the U.S. government. Bruce is one of ours. We don't leave men behind. Isn't that the saying?"
"Stark, think for a fucking moment." Fury adjusted his eyepatch. "Who do you know that can help with this situation? Further, who do you think I am? There are better ways to solve this problem than going in guns blazing."
"I think Bruce deserves a little more than us waiting an appropriate 3 to 5 business days for a response," Tony snarked back.
Steve, who had been frowning in the corner, spoke up, "I agree with Tony. I fought for this country. I served with good men and women. This is not honorable actions by the U.S. government. I would not leave a soldier behind on a battlefield, and we certainly are not leaving Bruce."
"You know it must be serious to have Papa and Daddy agree," Clint snarked. Natasha rolled her eyes.
"You are both being overemotional here. I understand the impulse, but we have to think through this slowly. The last thing we need is the public to come at the Avengers with pitchforks if Ross spins this wrong. Bruce has shown that he is harder to kill than that. He'll be fine," Natasha pointed out.
Tony frowned, "I don't like this."
"I, again, agree with Tony. Nat…" Steve trailed off.
"Give it 24 hours," she said, "Let's come up with a better game plan than just attack."
"That's always my game plan," Tony said blithely.
Natasha met his eyes. For once, Tony wasn't wearing any glasses. She narrowed here eyes at him giving him a blank look. She said, "I don't believe that for a fucking second."
Natasha was right.
Tony had already begun to think of contingencies.
….
Harry Potter sat in his room working on his physics homework. He had it spread across the bed as he lazily worked on the equations.
He had protested of course when Tony went into the meeting to plan Bruce's escape. He had argued that he was the one that found on where Bruce was, he should be part of planning how to get him out of there. It felt like last summer all over again.
Tony had sighed and told him that this wasn't a "you're a kid thing," but rather a "you're not an Avenger thing." He then promised he will tell him all the details after the meeting. Sometimes Tony reminded him so much of Sirius it hurt.
So, Harry sat twiddling his thumbs and eating bon bons. He had texted Peter asking him how he was feeling but hadn't received a response. He had written out a letter to Ron and Hermione but didn't have a single clue on how to send them.
He didn't have Hermione's muggle address, and Ron was only reachable via owl.
Once again, he regretted telling Jasper to keep Hedwig during the summer. Jasper had planned to stop by the tower on Saturday to give him an update on everything going on in the magical world. Maybe Harry could give him the letters to send then?
He sighed. There was so much going on. Fudge's campaign against him wouldn't stick as soon as Tom Riddle reared his ugly head, but for now it was a pain in the ass. He was grateful however, because it did force him to connect with his father. Harry privately admitted he wouldn't have had the courage without this situation.
Harry glanced over to the paperwork sitting on the side of his bed. Tony hadn't really had much time to explain them to him, other than he loved Harry and he thought that he deserved justice.
But Harry knew enough about legal proceedings to know what a deposition was.
The civil suit had already been filed in England. Tony said he had some of the best attorneys in
the world working on it. The Dursleys had already obtained representation. It had been, what, three days since Harry had moved in with Tony.
It was a lot.
Harry wasn't sure he was ready to answer those questions. Harry wasn't sure he would ever be ready to answer those questions.
A little green ball of light appeared in front of him. A voice projected into his head. A voice projected into his head, "Your magic is showing distress. Is there any way I can help?"
Harry swallowed heavily. It wasn't that he had necessarily forgotten about Lily, rather just that it had been pushed to the back of his mind. He had created something with sentience. Dear lord.
Harry spoke out loud, slightly hesitating, "I am okay. Just concerned."
"Is there anyway I can alleviate that concern? I am here to protect you." Harry was vividly reminded of Dobby and flinched.
"No, nothing you can do," Harry paused, the scientist in him itching for more information, "How far is your reach?"
The green light bounced around the room. It cycled through light and dark green. It projected into his head again, "I encompass approximately three meters in all directions around the tower. I can feel all living creatures within it. And JARVIS."
"Do you and JARVIS," Harry paused trying to find the right word, "communicate often?"
"Yes, JARVIS is teaching me how to be of assistance to you." Harry swallowed heavily. What was Lily? Was she magic personified? Was she alive? Had Harry fundamentally altered the basic rules of magic without realizing it? Had Harry accidentally created a creature that was bound to him like some sort of slave?
That last one scared him the most.
"Do you want to be of assistance to me?" Harry asked her.
Lily responded with no hesitation, "That is my purpose."
Harry knew he was playing with fire. He had risked his life to create a ward around the tower.
Yet, that didn't stop him from saying, "You create your own purpose. Not what others tell you it is."
The green light flickered in front of him, giving away no hint of what the ward was thinking.
Lily then spoke in his head, "You think in human concepts. I was created by you with certain parameters in place. You designed me to protect this structure. I have chosen to protect you. It is my purpose."
Harry blinked, feeling very touched. There was apprehension, for sure, but also a surge of warmth. It was as if his mother had a legacy.
"Thank you, Lily."
The green light then flickered out. Harry was certain that Lily was still watching, but she had disappeared from the room. It felt comforting.
Harry turned back to his homework.
There was a knock on his door.
"JARVIS? Lily?" Harry asked.
"It's your father young sir," JARVIS said out loud at the same time Lily projected to him, "Your father would like to talk to you."
"You can come in," Harry called out.
Tony looked exhausted when he entered the room. That made sense as he had spent the last few days awake. First, up with him watching the Star Wars movie, then probably up all night when Harry was injured, then, tracking down his friend Rhodey, and finally consumed with finding Bruce. Harry would be shocked if he had more than a couple hours of sleep straight in the last few days.
Tony took a seat on the small couch to the right of the bed.
"I'm surprised you're still here," Harry commented.
"Well, Fury and Natasha are arguing the diplomatic approach considered Bruce has been kidnapped by an American army general," Tony explained.
Harry raised his eyebrows, "And you're agreeing to this?"
"I would rather avoid an international incident. Fury and I will be working our contacts over the next 24 hours to get a release," Tony said grimly.
"You need sleep," Harry pointed out.
"I always need sleep," Tony responded.
Harry raised by eyebrows. Tony laid back on the couch. "You know I'm supposed to be the father here."
"We're unconventional."
Tony glanced at the paperwork Harry had been looking at minutes before, "Good, I'm glad you looked them over. What do you think?"
"I think you're suing for an outrageous amount."
"They kept you in a cupboard kid."
"They didn't want me to begin with," Harry responded neutrally.
"Doesn't fucking matter," Tony snapped with an intensity that surprised Harry. He sighed, and then continued, "Look, sorry, I'm not trying to get pushy with this, but you're my kid. I'm going to feel guilty for the rest of my life because while I was fucking my way through L.A. you were being beaten by a belt."
Harry flinched, and instinctively hunched over.
"Tony…" he said, then swallowed and corrected, "Dad, you didn't know."
"I didn't sure. But I wasn't careful enough. I wasn't holding myself responsible for my own behavior. I cared more about my own pleasure than what I left behind. I'm sorry that you paid for my mistakes Harry."
Harry first impulse was to jump up and tell him that no, it wasn't his fault. He swallowed and finally settled on, "You're right. You're also wrong in that my parents never told you and that's on them. Neither of us would have known what it was like if I would have grown up with you. But we're here now. I've been through a lot and I know dwelling on stuff isn't going to help."
Tony blinked, "You're right. You're right kid."
"I don't know if I want to do it," Harry admitted.
"You don't have to decide at this exact moment."
"I know," Harry said.
"Either way, you're still one of the strongest people I have ever meet," Tony told him. Harry swallowed hard at the compliment. He had actually heard that from a lot of people, but not a lot of people actually knew what he went through. They could tell him he was strong for facing a dragon, but to Harry that was nothing.
Harry was strong because he survived ten years with the Dursleys, completely unloved. It was amazing he was as well-adjusted as he was.
"Thanks Dad," Harry said, then he continued, "But I'm serious you really should go get some sleep. You look like death."
"You sound like Steve," Tony told him as he was leaving. Despite that, Harry knew he followed his advice when he checked with Lily ten minutes later.
….
Peter Parker did not have a full lab in his room. The microscope that Uncle Ben had gotten him three years ago for his eleventh birthday was woefully underequipped for this situation.
Peter checked the clock, it was only 8 P.M. in the evening.
He decided to text Ned.
What r u doing? Peter asked.
Rewatching Clone Wars Season 2 Ned responded. It showed that Ned was tying again.
Im on the episode where Ashoka and Barriss fight off the brain worms. Come watch it w me?
Ned's mom was chill about Peter staying over. They were only three blocks away, and Peter and Ned spent way too much time at each other's houses.
Peter asked, if that's ok
Ned sent a gif of Sherlock from BBC Sherlock that said "Of course, how can I refuse?"
Peter rolled his eyes and got up to ask his Uncle Ben if he could walk over to Ned's.
"I don't know buddy," Uncle Ben started.
"Please Uncle Ben," Peter responded, "Ned said we could watch Clone Wars and build some Legos. His mom said I can stay over."
Aunt May and Uncle Ben exchanged a look with each other. He could hear their internal monolog. On one hand, Peter was sure they would like to have the apartment to themselves, but on the other, Peter was sure they were spooked from yesterday.
"Come on Uncle Ben, Aunt May, it's summer. Pretty please," Peter begged.
"Fine," Aunt May caved, "But Ben is walking you over."
"That's fine," Peter said. They normally let him go on his own, but he supposed they were cautious with everything that had happened.
"And you text me as soon as you are leaving his place tomorrow."
"Yes, Aunt May," Peter intoned.
Peter went and grabbed his backpack that he had shoved a change of clothes into. Uncle Ben and he walked over to Ned's house. Uncle Ben spent the time asking about his class and the decathlon.
Ned's mom told him it was, "Great to see you Peter honey," as if he hadn't been at Ned's house on Monday. Ned was in his room with Clone Wars on.
Ned started to talk to him about the episode, but Peter put his hand up to stop.
Ned asked, "What?"
Peter responded, "I need you to help me break into Oscorp."