I do not attempt to claim ownership of Marvel Comics or the Harry Potter series.
Afghanistan / 28.01.2010
He was going to die.
He never thought his life would end this way, the great Tony Stark forced to build a missile for terrorists and then disposed of. To be honest he'd always imagined his death at a very old age after pleasing two beautiful models, perhaps even three.
He refused to accept this situation, he refused to die like this, Tony Stark was no-one's slave.
Jumping at the sound of the door opening, Tony looked up. Surely they couldn't expect results that fast, it had only been an hour since the leader demand he built the Jericho.
"Stay back," muttered Yinsen, indicating for Tony to step back from the door.
Backing away, Tony watched at the metal cell door swung open, allowing two of their captors to enter, carrying the broken and beaten form of a teenager between them.
Dropping the teen on a camp bed, the two terrorist left the cell, locking the door behind them. Kneeling down, Yinsen set to work clean the blood from the teen, revealing the true severity of his injuries.
Tony wanted to be sick, the boy couldn't be more than about fourteen. Nearly every part of him was injured, a large cut running from his forehead to his chin had gouged through his left eye, both his legs appeared to be broken and he was missing several fingers and toes.
"Oh god," muttered Tony, feeling a fire light inside of him, "They're monsters."
"Don't worry, he'll be fine," assured Yinsen as he set one of the boy's legs.
"What do mean, fine?" exclaimed Tony, "I'm not a doctor but I'm pretty sure he won't last the night!"
"They do this to him every week, I just have to make sure I set any broken bones before he heals," replied Yinsen, finishing setting the boy's other leg.
Tony opened his mouth to reply be stopped short as he watched as the boy's injuries begin to heal at an incredible rate. Tony stared as the slash on the boy's face healed completely, his legs repaired themselves with a series of sickening snaps and his missing fingers and toes grew back.
"Impossible," breathed Tony.
"He's enhanced," spoke Yinsen, "If I had to guess I'd say a modified version of the super soldier serum."
"What's his name?" asked Tony, watching as the boy finished healing, but stayed lying flat on his back, his unfocused eyes pointing at the ceiling.
"I don't know, he's never said a word," answered Yinsen, "They broke him long before they took me, I call him Khalid, it's means-"
"Eternal," finished Tony.
"I didn't think you knew Arabic," stated Yinsen.
"I don't, I did a semester on it in college to impress a girl," explained Tony, "Pretty much all I remember is that and the Arabic for 'I didn't sleep with your wife'."
"So, why are you here?" queried Tony, "Why did they take you?"
"I'm a doctor of biochemistry," responded Yinsen, "I was taken to create a super soldier serum from Khalid's blood."
"I'm guessing so far it hasn't worked," muttered Tony.
"No, the last attempt killed the one who took it," replied Yinsen, "They seem to think Khalid knows the secret behind how to make the serum work."
"That's why they're torturing him," stated Tony.
"Correct," affirmed Yinsen.
"I wondered what happened, how he ended up here," spoke Tony.
Little Whinging / Seven Months Earlier
Glaring at the retreating forms of his relatives, Harry Potter grabbed his heavy trunk and lifted it out of the car. Reaching back in Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage, the snowy owl asleep inside.
"Come on, this might be the last time you get to stretch your wings before we go back to Hogwarts," spoke Harry, unlocking the cage, rousing his owl.
Hedwig gave Harry a sleepy glare but hopped out of her cage and took flight. Harry sighed, he was scared, when he'd left the Dursleys' house last summer it had come after weeks of being locked in his room with bars on the window and involved a flying Ford Anglia.
It almost made him want to fight the Basilisk again, almost.
"Hurry up, boy!" barked Vernon from the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive.
"Coming Uncle Vernon," replied Harry, shutting the car boot and dragging his trunk to the door.
"In quick!" ordered Vernon, "Trunk under the stairs, keep the cage!"
Following instructions Harry deposited the trunk on his old bed in the cupboard under the stairs and shut the door.
"In here," snapped Vernon, indicating to the lounge as he locked the cupboard door, "And leave the cage here for now."
Putting the cage down and walking into the lounge, Harry took a seat on the sofa, while Vernon shut the door and dropped into his armchair.
"You're lucky we agreed to take you back after that stunt last summer," grumbled Vernon, "But this year I'm going to lay down some ground rules, understood?"
"Understood," responded Harry.
"Good, now you're aunt will write out a list of chores for you, if she asks you to do anything, you do it," explained Vernon, "Now, in return, your owl can come and go, at night only, and keep your friends updated that you're fine. And if you behave yourself we'll allow some books out of your trunk to keep on your room only, so you can do your homework, got it?"
Pushing the urge to make a sarcastic remark down Harry replied, "Yes, sir."
"Now it's time for your punishment," spoke Vernon, picking up Dudley's Smeltings stick from the coffee table, "Hand out!"
Calming himself, Harry slowly raised his left hand and held it out.
"Good," smiled Vernon, his eyes glinting manically, "Let's begin."
Flinching as the cane came down, Harry bit his tongue to stop himself from shouting as it dug into the palm of his hand over and over.
After what felt like an eternity Vernon stopped, "Now wasn't that ea-"
Opening his eyes, Harry quickly in the sight of his Uncle's rapidly purpling face. Looking down at his hand, Harry's mouth fell open, the wound from the cane was nearly completely healed.
"Phoenix tears," breathed Harry.
"You freak, you dare use magic in my home!" yelled Vernon, standing and grabbing Harry's throat, lifting him up, "I'll give you something you won't heal!"
Wheezing, Harry watched from his increasingly blurry vision as his aunt slammed the door open, screaming at his uncle to let him go.
Gathering the last of his strength, Harry lashed out with his foot. Screaming, Vernon dropped Harry as he collapsed to the floor, cradling his crotch.
Storming past his aunt, Harry ripped the understairs cupboard door open, easily breaking the lock and grabbing his trunk. Dragging it behind him, Harry marched towards the door when it was suddenly blown off its hinges, sending Harry flying backwards.
With a gasp Khalid woke, sitting bolt upright, gasping and covered in sweat.
Looking around, Khalid saw Stark sat at a workstation fiddling with some machine.
Glaring, Khalid swung his feet over the edge of the bed, staring at the ground.
"Those scars you've got," spoke Tony, "They're from before you got your powers, aren't they."
Khalid looked down and continued to ignore the man.
"Who was it?" queried Toby, "Who abused you?"
"I know what those kind of scars look like," continued Tony, "I see them in the mirror every morning."
Walking over, Tony sat on the camp bed next to Khalid.
"When I was kid my parents barely had any time for me, our butler, Jarvis, practically raised me," explained Tony, "He died when I was 8, cancer, so my parents hired a new butler."
"He was nice at first, he gained my trust," spoke Tony, "But then he turned nasty, he'd hit me for nothing and convince me I deserved it. It went on for years, he left one day and never came back, got bored I guess."
Tony sighed and fell into a calm silence, the sound was Yinsen light snoring.
"Pardon," blurted Tony, turning to face Khalid, in the two weeks he'd been here the teen hadn't said a single word.
"My name's Harry," muttered the teen with a scratching voice.
"Pleased to meet you Harry," replied Tony, smiling.