Shortly after JARVIS had finished the impromptu modern history lesson for Professor McGonagall, Tony let Harry go.

"Pretty sure you'll be bored with the rest of our talk," Tony said. "You and I will talk later."

It was only after he said it that he realized the words could be threatening, but Harry didn't seem to register them that way, and for that Tony was grateful. They'd been getting along well enough so far, and he really didn't want to accidentally cause a major setback.

But Harry simply said, "I can get started on my Transfiguration essay," offered a shy smile to McGonagall, and headed off to his room.

"And you don't need me, either," Steve said. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

When the other two had gone - in Steve's case, just to a small sitting area outside the conference room - Tony turned to the stern-faced woman again.

"I'll just say it," he said. "I have concerns about Harry returning to Hogwarts."

The woman bristled. "Hogwarts is the best school of witchcraft and wizardry in Europe."

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't have enough information to offer an opinion on that," Tony added, hoping to soothe whatever feathers he'd ruffled with his initial statement. McGonagall nodded once, sharply, accepting his explanation. "But what I do know is that you're not preparing him for life in the non-magical world."

McGonagall's astonished expression would be funny as hell if it weren't also disappointing as hell. Tony stifled a sigh and waited for her to form words.

"Whyever should we?" she demanded.

"Because maybe he won't want to stay in your world." Tony strove for a reasonable tone, rather than an accusatory one. "I mean, given the dangers he's faced in your world, it's understandable that he might not want to stay there."

"But - he's a hero," McGonagall protested.

"So am I," Tony pointed out, and for once it was something he could accept and just say without being arrogant. "So's Cap - Steve. So's everybody who fought beside us against the Chitauri. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I fail to see why Mr. Potter would choose to leave the magical world for the Muggle world."

Damn. That haughty tone wouldn't be out of place from a queen. Thankfully, the only queen Tony had ever met had been polite and gracious, not at all like the woman before him. He shoved that thought aside to focus on the conversation.

"Yes, you probably do," Tony replied. "Which doesn't really matter. What matters is that Harry has a choice of where to live - or, rather, he should have a choice of where and how he lives when he's an adult, and you're taking that away from him by denying him a mundane education."

McGonagall's lips pressed together so tightly they almost disappeared. "What does the Muggle world have to offer that we don't?"

"Science and technology, among other things," Tony said. "Buildings like this one. My suit. The chance to travel into space and find friendly aliens, as opposed to those invaders you just watched. But none of that matters. What matters is you're taking away Harry's ability to choose, and I won't allow that."

McGonagall frowned - almost scowled. "The International Statute of Secrecy and other laws mandate that magical children who don't complete their magical education have their wands snapped, their magic bound, and their memories of everything to do with magic removed," she said. "Surely you don't intend to condemn your son to that tragic fate?"

Tony stared at her. "You do realize how barbaric that sounds?" He shook his head. "Does the law require that he attend Hogwarts? Or will any magical school or private tutor do?"

She offered him a shrewd look. "How will you know if I answer truthfully?"

"Eh." Tony shrugged. "I'm pretty good at reading people. And I have other resources."

McGonagall quirked an eyebrow and her lip twitched. Tony would bet good money she was itching to ask him what other resources he might have.

She disappointed him by saying only, "When Harry passes his O.W.L. exams, he will have full wand rights. How and where he prepares for them is … not restricted."

"Great," Tony said with a grin. "So. Persuade me to send Harry back to Hogwarts next term instead of hiring private tutors or enrolling him in a school that doesn't neglect his non-magical education."

It was almost two before McGonagall finally left, and neither she nor Tony was entirely satisfied with their discussion. McGonagall still couldn't seem to grasp - or didn't want to grasp; Tony wouldn't rule out either possibility - that the mundane world was just as interesting as the magical one, and Tony refused to acknowledge the magical world as superior to the mundane.

McGonagall also didn't want to allow that maybe - just maybe - the mundane world would largely accept the existence and presence of magical people without much rancor. Even when Tony pointed out that the longer the magical world tried to stay hidden, the worse mundane people would think of them when it was finally revealed - and it would be revealed, sooner or later. Revealing themselves and all they could offer non-magical people - magical healing alone would be a benefit for everyone - before that discovery would go a long way to easing hard feelings.

And speaking of hard feelings…

"I apologize," Tony said.

McGonagall's brows creased. "For?"

"Getting angry with you about what happened in May. I'm - we're all still dealing with not just the invasion but the implications of it, and I'm still pissed that your society chooses to stay hidden because it's your planet, too, and when it's threatened, we should all be fighting for it," Tony offered by way of explanation. "But you're a teacher, and it's not your job to fight for it. Sorry for implying otherwise."

"I assumed that when you asked where we were, you were speaking of the magical world in general, not me in particular," McGonagall replied, rather stiffly. "No apology is necessary, but it's accepted regardless. There's one other thing - as it's now past the first of August, Harry's tuition for Hogwarts this year cannot be refunded."

"Well, if he doesn't attend, maybe you can use it to outfit all of the Quidditch teams with new brooms, so none of the houses would have an unfair advantage over the others," Tony replied - and that was a state of affairs he only knew about because Harry had griped about it to Steve, who had then passed the information on to Tony.

They ended - or rather, abandoned - the discussion with Tony's promise to let her know as soon as he could what Harry's plans for the year were, and McGonagall teleported away with a bang like a crack of thunder.

"JARVIS," Tony said when she was gone, "remind me to ask what determines how much noise they make when they teleport like that. And tell Harry that he can call Hedwig and Sirius back."

"Done, Sir," JARVIS replied, and Tony rose from his seat to examine the stacks of newspapers on the far end of the conference table.

And how was it that they had newspapers, but everything else seemed to be on parchment? Tony gave a mental shake of his head and chalked it up to just one more way the magical world was weird.

Thanks to Erskine's serum that amplified all of him, Steve had paged through thousands of issues of the Daily Prophet overnight, with JARVIS scanning the pages as he did so. While all five thousand (thereabouts) issues were in JARVIS's memory systems, Steve had set aside the issues that seemed most relevant.

It was to that smaller stack that Tony turned now. Steve had arranged them in chronological order, which meant that the one on top was the one announcing the defeat of Voldemort and James and Lily's deaths.

Not that the Prophet was honest enough to say that. Instead, their headline read:

YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED!

HARRY POTTER SURVIVES KILLING CURSE!

"Superstitious bunch," Tony muttered as he scanned the article. Not once was Voldemort referred to by name, and for the life of him he couldn't imagine why. After all, as Confucius said, the beginning of wisdom is to call things by their proper names. Presumably, that extended to people, too.

The article didn't tell him anything new, and in all honesty, Tony preferred both Harry's and Sirius' more direct manner. The flowery, almost gushing, prose in the Prophet made him feel like he was at a party full of sycophantic used-car salesmen, and he wondered idly what it would take to set up a competing newspaper - one that stuck to clear reporting of events.

Tony let the thought slide by almost before it was fully formed. There were plenty of opportunities to make money in the magical world if he chose, not least of which was figuring a way to introduce magical versions of mundane technology to a population that would love them.

He frowned at that. Certainly the British magical population would love whatever gadgets he came up with, but what about the American magical population? Were all witches and wizards as backward - or quaint, as Aunt Peggy would probably insist on calling it - as the British?

He really hoped JARVIS could find some more magical people. Sirius tried to help, but twelve years in prison meant that whatever connections he might have had were … unreliable at best. Still, he'd encourage the man to reach out to anyone he knew who might be willing to talk with Tony about the magical world.

A crack from the foyer made him jump, and he whirled to look through the glass wall separating the conference room from the foyer. He relaxed only a little when he saw the healer - Pomfrey - standing there.

Steve was on his feet, tension limning his body, and Tony was grateful he hadn't gone far.

"What the hell?" he all but yelled as he hurried from the conference room. "Don't you people knock? Or call? Or anything to let someone know you're coming?"

"I would have," she replied, "but you don't have a Floo, and this may be the only chance I have to speak to you without someone else listening."

"Is that a concern?" Steve asked.

"Before I visited this morning, I would have said no," Pomfrey replied evenly. "However, I found something in my scan of Mr. Potter that I'd like to revisit."

"And you couldn't do that when you were here before?" Tony asked.

"Ethically, no. While Mr. Potter had informed Minerva of his injuries when he wrote to her, he has not, to my knowledge, mentioned to her the other things I found during my scan," Pomfrey said. "Will you ask Mr. Potter to join us?"

That made a lot of sense, and Tony was just grateful that at least some aspects of the magical world resembled the mundane one. "JARVIS?"

"Already done, Sir."

Sure enough, it was barely a minute later before Harry emerged from the elevator, wand ready in his hand. "Tony, what's - Madam Pomfrey? What are you doing here again?"

Pomfrey was frowning at Harry when she answered. "I do hope you weren't planning to use magic outside of school, Mr. Potter?"

"To defend my family? Yes!"

Pride swelled in Tony's chest at Harry's defiant declaration, but he kept his tone moderate when he said, "Thanks, kiddo, but it's not necessary this time."

"Good." Harry's wand disappeared from his hand - back into its holster, presumably. "So what's going on?"

"I want to know how you have the remnants of both basilisk venom and phoenix tears in your system, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey replied, managing to be both stern and kind at the same time.

Harry's hand came to rest on his right arm, just above the elbow. "The basilisk bit me in the Chamber of Secrets. Fawkes cried into the wound and saved my life."

And just like that, Tony felt homicidal again. He blew out a breath. "Translate that for the non-magicals in the room?"

When Pomfrey spoke again, it wasn't to answer his question. Instead, she scowled. "And why am I only hearing about this now? Miss Weasley came to see me at the end of May. Why have you waited two months?"

Harry shrugged. "Headmaster Dumbledore told me to go to the feast. And, well, the wound healed."

Pomfrey exploded. "And just when did Albus Dumbledore become a medi-wizard, let alone a full healer? Never, that's when! He had the sense to send Miss Weasley to me, but not you? Of all the asinine, hair-brained…" She stopped and took a breath, visibly striving for control.

When she spoke again, her tone was carefully neutral. "It would have been best if I had examined the injury at the time, Mr. Potter. As that didn't happen - through no fault of your own - will you allow me to conduct a more thorough examination now?"

Harry looked uncertainly at Tony, and Tony realized this was one of those moments when he needed to be a father. "Please do. I believe Harry when he says he's healed, but this is all new to me, and I'd like a professional opinion."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." She'd barely finished before her wand was in her hand and she was waving it in an intricate pattern, muttering something that sounded like Latin. Tony would ask JARVIS later to tell him what she said.

"Well." Pomfrey stowed her wand with a frown. "There appear to be no lingering physical effects from the basilisk venom, though there is something … different in your magic. I don't believe it's entirely detrimental," she added quickly, "but it is beyond my ability to deal with at this time. I strongly suggest you visit St. Mungo's for a thorough magical exam."

"Is that a visit now or a visit sometime before school starts?" Tony asked.

"It's not urgent, if that's what you're asking," Pomfrey replied. "Though I wouldn't suggest too long a delay. They might also be able to do something about the scar."

"Speaking of that scar," Tony said. "There was black around it, too, when you did your initial diagnostic. What does that mean?"

"It's believed," Pomfrey said carefully, "that he received that scar when he survived the Killing Curse."

"It's believed," Tony repeated. "Do you believe it?"

She shrugged. "It's as good a theory as any. But it's beyond my capability to diagnose and treat. I'm a medi-witch, not a healer. When you consult the healer, you can also consult about that."

Tony offered Harry a wry grin. "Looks like you and I have a doctor's appointment." Then he frowned. "Do we just show up? Or how do we make an appointment?"

"Owl them, of course," Pomfrey said. "St. Mungo's is here in London, so the reply shouldn't take very long."

As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open and Hedwig soared into the room. Behind her, Tony thought he saw someone standing in the shadows of the elevator car, but when he focused, the car was empty-

-except for the large shape of a black dog bounding toward Harry, who was soon staggering under the weight of Hedwig on his shoulder and Dog-Sirius against his legs. But Harry was laughing, and given the conversations they'd been having, Tony took that as a win.

Pomfrey was smiling, too. "This beautiful lady can help with that, I'm sure."

"Wrong adjective," Tony said without thinking, drawing an angry bark from Hedwig and frowns from Pomfrey, Harry, and Steve. "Not that you aren't beautiful," he added to Hedwig, "but it's crass to compliment a lady's beauty first unless that's all you want from her. This stunningly intelligent lady can help with that, I'm sure," he finished with a grin.

His grin grew wider as Hedwig gave a shake of her feathers and settled back on Harry's shoulder. He could almost hear her in his head saying, About time you noticed.

Pomfrey chuckled softly. "Fortunately, Mr. Potter makes it a habit to be friends with stunningly intelligent ladies."

"Oh?" Tony glanced from her to Harry. "Do tell."

Harry shrugged the shoulder Hedwig wasn't perched on. "Hermione's the smartest witch in our year. Maybe the entire school."

Tony recognized the name, of course, and was still just wary enough of the magical world after his conversations with McGonagall not to say more than, "Showing good taste already. I like it," which made Harry blush, which only made him grin his fool head off.

If he'd known being a dad could be so much fun, he'd've tried it years ago.

That realization froze him mid-thought. Not just that he'd had it, but the implications it brought with it. Would he have given it a try years ago? Or did he have to get to here and now for even thinking of being a dad not sending him screaming back into his workshop, never again to emerge?

He shook himslef free of his uncomfortable reverie and found that Steve had, while ruffling Dog-Sirius' ears, apparently asked Pomfrey where this St. Mungo's place was, and was repeating directions back to her.

Shortly after that, Pomfrey cracked away again, and Tony shook his head. "Teleportation, great. Sonic booms every time? Not so great."

"Wait 'til you walk through a fireplace," Harry said dryly.

Sirius transformed back into his human form, and Tony scowled at him.

"Didn't realize she'd come back," Sirius said in response to Tony's unasked question. "I saw her just as the doors opened and shifted as quickly as I could."

"Do you think she saw you?" Harry asked, his tone clearly conveying how worried he was at the thought.

Sirius shook his head sharply. "She would've said something if she had."

"What do you think," Tony said, "about this St. Mongrel's or whatever?"

"Mungo's," Sirius corrected. "I can't say it's a bad idea - unless you've already been?" he added to Harry, who shook his head.

"I've never seen any magical healer except Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. "Or, I don't remember seeing anyone else. Maybe somebody took me after - well, after."

Tony could fill in the rest of that sentence as easily as anyone else: After my parents were killed.

And just like that, the decision was made. "Write to them," Tony said. "Ask for appointments for both of us."

Sirius frowned. "Both of you? No offense, but St. Mungo's is for magical issues."

Tony shrugged. "Pomfrey suggested they might be able to help with this." He tapped the arc reactor. "Figure it can't hurt to ask."

Sirius looked like he wanted to object, but eventually just shrugged. "Worst they can do is say no."

Harry took almost an hour to write the note to St. Mungo's, but finally it was ready and he took it out to Hedwig's perch in the rooftop garden.

"Are you up for a trip?" Harry asked her. "It's here in London."

Hedwig gave a quiet prek and offered him her leg. He fastened the note to her leg and stroked the feathers at the top of her head.

"Thanks," he said quietly. "Not for taking my letters and things, but … well … for being a friend. I don't have a lot of those, and I probably should be more appreciative toward the ones I do."

She pressed her head against his fingers and made a soft hooting sound that somehow Harry thought was just … well, not nonsense, really, but more a comforting sound than an actual attempt to communicate.

"Fly safe," he told her, and almost before he finished the words, she was aloft, hovering for a moment to cuff his head with the tip of her wing before flapping her wings for lift and banking over the top of the tower.

Harry's Seeker gaze followed her until she disappeared into the midafternoon sun before he turned back toward the lift. Something made him turn away from the lift and toward the gazebo, though.

He took a seat, grateful for the shade though the temperature was still warmer than he'd gotten used to in Scotland at Hogwarts, and stared out over the city skyline.

The sky appeared a dusty blue, with airplane contrails and hazy clouds breaking up its vastness, and Harry allowed himself to think about what he wanted to do.

He'd never thought about that before - the Dursleys never cared what he wanted, except possibly to make certain he never got it, and Magical Britain was hardly better, seeing him as they pleased, whether that was as their hero or a disappointment, even a villain, as the events at school last year had proved.

What would happen next year? Would he still be the hero who received a Special Award for Services to the School, the wizard who rescued Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets, who destroyed the diary that almost reincarnated Voldemort, who killed the basilisk that petrified four students and, almost as an afterthought, freed a house-elf from horrible masters in the Malfoys?

Or would he be the reviled apparent Heir of Slytherin, the one who terrorized Muggle-borns without even trying? Not that he actually had, but some people still believed it.

More importantly, would he have any clue which one it would be before he arrived at Hogwarts? Did he want to go to Hogwarts, knowing how fickle the students could be and, worse, how little support he'd have from the staff?

And then there was everything Tony and Professor McGonagall had talked about. Harry had been so happy to escape the Dursleys that he never considered what might happen when he graduated Hogwarts - other than the absolute certainty that he would never, ever, see the Dursleys again once he was an adult. Which didn't mean he never wanted to spend time in the non-magical world ever again, just that he wanted to avoid the Dursleys.

But Hogwarts, as Tony had pointed out, wasn't preparing him for any kind of life outside the magical world. Harry didn't share Hermione's all-consuming passion for knowledge and learning, but he didn't want to limit his choices through ignorance.

That ignorance had slapped him in the face earlier, metaphorically speaking, when the discussion about his elective courses had come up. He thought he'd asked for help, but Percy hadn't mentioned careers. Certainly the staff hadn't, and it seemed that the electives he chose had a lot of influence over his future career choices - if he even knew what those career choices were.

He really should've asked Professor McGonagall while she was still here. But then, she hadn't been helpful at all when he and Ron had gone to her about the Philosopher's Stone, so maybe she wasn't the best person to ask. But who could he ask in her stead?

Harry smiled suddenly as the answer formed in his mind. Of course. Who else would he ask?

He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed the icon to call Hermione before he could talk himself out of it. She was on holiday, after all.

He almost ended the call, but she answered before the second ring. "Harry?"

"Hi, Hermione." At the sound of her voice, his scowl changed to a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize what time it is. If you're busy with your parents, we can talk some other time."

"It's fine, Harry, really," Hermione said. "My parents are arguing, so it's a really good time."

"Arguing?" Harry frowned.

"About whether or not they're going to cut our holiday short."

Harry felt his eyes widen. "Why would they do that?"

"It's your fault," Hermione said, but she sounded amused.

"Mine?!" How could her parents arguing possibly be his fault?

"Well, indirectly," she said. "Because Dad really, really wants to meet Tony Stark, and you said you're not sure how much longer you'll be in England."

"I'm really not sure now," Harry muttered.

"Harry?" Concern touched her tone. "What's wrong?"

Harry winced. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"You did. What's going on?"

"I don't even know." Still, he explained the conversations that happened at brunch and afterward. When he finished, she was quiet for a long moment.

"I - hadn't thought about all that," she said finally, her voice quieter than he'd ever heard her. "I was so wrapped up in learning everything I can about magic that I didn't even think about Muggle - mundane - studies. Outside of the elective, of course."

"Of course," Harry agreed with a grin that she couldn't see. It faded quickly. "But you're thinking about it now?"

"I'm thinking about it now," she confirmed. Then she took a deep, if shaky, breath. "And I don't like what I'm thinking. They expect us to give up the world we were born into - but what about our families?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I wouldn't have minded giving up the Dursleys, but I don't want to give up Tony."

"And they'll want us to, won't they?" Hermione asked in a small voice. "I mean, remember how Mr. Weasley treated my parents at Diagon Alley last year."

"And they have an uncle, or maybe a cousin, who's an accountant," Harry said, "but Ron said they don't talk about him. It's a complete separation, it seems, and that makes no sense."

"The Statute of Secrecy," Hermione began, but Harry cut her off.

"Makes no sense, either," he said. "Not anymore - or that's what Tony says, and I can't find anything wrong with his argument. Maybe you can, when you talk to him?"

There was another pause. "I'll get to talk to him?"

"I hope so," Harry said. "If you still want to meet up to get books, that is. Or if you just want to come to the tower. Either one works."

"The tower?"

"Stark Docklands Tower. It's where we're staying while we're in London," Harry said. "I hope you'll come by when you get back."

"I'd love to," Hermione said, excitement animating her voice. "I read lots of articles about him before Hogwarts, of course, and some of what he's doing with artificial intelligence is amazing."

"Yes, it is," Harry agreed, thinking of JARVIS. He couldn't wait to see Hermione's reaction when she met him. He shook that thought aside to focus on the Hermione he was talking with, not the one he'd see soon, he hoped. "There's one other thing."

"What?"

"Did you know our electives matter to which careers we choose? If we stay in the magical world, I mean."

"Well … I sort of guessed that," Hermione admitted. "But nobody explained it, if that's what you're asking."

"No, nobody explained it, and I-" Harry took a shaky breath. "I picked the ones Ron did, because at least I'd have someone friendly to help."

There was a moment of silence before Hermione almost shouted, "Harry Potter! Did you not think I'd help? Of course I would-!"

"I know, Hermione," Harry said quickly and with enough force that the words broke into what was sure to be a rant of some length. "I know. But I also know that you signed up for all the electives. I didn't think you'd have time to help me if I needed it."

It was several breaths before Hermione spoke again, and for a moment Harry thought the connection had failed.

As if a phone designed by Tony Stark would fail.

"Oh, Harry." Her voice sounded broken, like she was trying not to cry. "I feel like I should apologize-"

"No, don't," Harry said quickly. "You chose what you thought is right for you, and that's absolutely right. Don't hold yourself back because of me."

"Don't you hold yourself back because of him, either," Hermione snapped back, and Harry flinched from the acid in her tone. "You're a great wizard, Harry - I told you that before. Don't let yourself become less to keep someone else happy."

"Ah - well - Tony said something similar," Harry began, then frowned. "Well, not really similar at all, but in the end, I'm changing my electives."

"To what?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"I'm thinking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"Really? Those are two of the hardest subjects Hogwarts offers."

"Tony said Arithmancy should be relatively easy, at least at first."

Hermione scoffed. "What would he know about it?"

"Apparently, he read all the textbooks last night," Harry replied. "And he said that Arithmancy, in the beginning, is based on maths we've already studied at school."

There was another long pause. "That's … disappointing."

"Tony's talked about getting me a tutor for Muggle subjects for the rest of the summer. Not actual studying this summer, I don't think - more testing to see how far behind I am."

"D'you - do you think the tutor could test me, too?" Hermione asked. "I'll happily pay the fee."

That made Harry laugh. "No, you won't. Because even if I wouldn't offer because you're my best friend, Tony won't hear of it."

"That's not fair, Harry," Hermione said. "I can pay my share."

"I know you can, and that's not the point," Harry said.

"Then what is?"

"It's-" Harry paused, considering his words. "It's Tony's way of showing he cares. He doesn't see it as throwing money around, but as doing something you need, or something that would make you happy."

And those words led him to a surprising conclusion: in some ways, Tony was as emotionally dumb as he was. That was something he'd have to think about, when he had the chance.

"Well." Hermione sounded a little baffled, and Harry smiled to himself. It wasn't often that his friend was baffled. "I still have to make the offer. It's polite."

And speaking of polite. Harry cleared his throat. "Um - Hermione? There's something I have to tell you."

"What's that?"

"When Professor McGonagall was here, I mentioned you'd signed up for all the electives. And," he added before Hermione could say anything, "something she said made me think she's not going to approve you taking all of them."

"Oh."

Her acknowledgment fell into a silence that Harry didn't know how to interpret. He let it linger, unwilling to break it as he had no idea what lay on the other side of it.

"My parents weren't happy with the idea, either," Hermione said finally. "I just - there's just so much to learn!"

"But that doesn't mean you have to learn it all in school," Harry offered. "And you don't have to learn it all right away."

There was another pause before a huff came through the phone. "When did you start being rational?"

Harry chuckled, hoping his relief didn't show in his tone when he said, "Tony's influence."

"Hmf. Well, it's good that you've got a good influence at last."

Harry's chuckle turned into a full-on laugh. "I think that's the first time Tony Stark has ever been called a good influence."

"Oh." He could almost hear Hermione chewing her bottom lip. "Do you think he'll forgive me?"