Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Marvel's Ironman. Anything you recognize is not mine.

Warning: This contains FEM!Harry. I'm sure there are also other differences to the original, but remember: this is fanfiction. I made those changes because I can. (;

That said, I appreciate comments containing constructive criticism but I will not reply to flames.

Love, W

Edited: 01/03/2015


Amy was finally finished with her last shift at the hospital. It was eleven thirty at night and she really wanted to sleep for a week. Especially after that debacle with a suicidal drunk who seemed to have lost his wife two weeks ago in an accident.

The young Healer sighed as she changed into her well-worn blue jeans and a ruby Weasley sweater from the previous Christmas. Not wanting to bother with her Potter hair for the ride home, she just put it up in a messy bun. Grabbing her new leather messenger bag, another Christmas present, Amy left the changing room.

On her way out, she waved to the nurse on duty.

The twenty-six-year-old made sure to be polite and considerate whenever she spoke to nurses because they tended to be good conversationalists when you needed to rant about sexist pigs or moronic pick-up-lines.

Hermione had suggested she try to combine her Healer training with Muggle medicine so Amy could work in both worlds, after the defeat of Voldemort and her overwhelming need to leave the Wizarding World.

So Amy applied for the three-year Healer program alongside Hannah Abbott who had become a good friend over that time.

Maybe she should give her a call? It always was fun to go out with the Hufflepuff.

Hermione said she was too scholarly to really lose herself to the music like Amy tended to do. Besides, her bushy-haired sister in all but blood had just given birth to a little girl called Rose which she had been named godmother of.

At the thought of the ginger-haired baby Amy smiled, losing herself easily in memories of spending time with her family. Due to her job at the Saint Cross Private Hospital in downtown Manhattan, New York City, the young witch rarely spent time with them anymore.

Amy was so lost to her thoughts that she didn't notice when a brunette guy crashed into her.

Great. Just what she needed.

"I'm sorry, wasn't looking where I was going," she apologized immediately, automatically.

The stranger helped her back on her feet, a charming smile on his face. "I'm sorry for not looking either."

"Thanks for helping me up. Well, have a nice night," Amy heard herself say awkwardly.

She had blushed embarrassed. Usually her Quidditch-honed instincts saved her from situations such as this.

"It was nice meeting you...?" the stranger replied easily.


"Do you have a last name too?"

She blushed but held her ground. Amy had no idea where that sass was coming from all of a sudden. "Yes."

The brunette's smile widened. "I'm Tony. Can I offer you a ride home?"

Oh, she was too tired for these games. Especially after working over 26 hours straight in a busy emergency room. "No, thanks. I don't want to impose. See you."

Maybe if she hadn't been so tired, Amy would have seen his smirk as a foreboding sign. Unknowingly she had issued him a challenge which he wouldn't back down from.

Tony Stark was like a dog with a bone when he had found something that interested him.

Oblivious as Amy tended to be in a social setting, she had sparked his interest by not recognizing him from the countless tabloids featuring his portrait additionally to actually saying no to his face, withstanding the trademark Stark charm.