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Harry Potter and the Invincible Technomage
Year Two Summer
A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor any of the Marvel Comics Characters mentioned herein. But you knew that.
Harry Potter and The Invincible TechnoMage
Chapter Eight – Year Two Summer
August 12 1989:
The Stark Estate:
The tall man had spotted the boy only a few seconds before as Harry had run around the corner of the subbasement corridor giggling. Simon Williams gave chase, barreling around the corner only to run head on into Hank McCoy, who was hanging from an overhead support beam by his toes. The collision dropped the both of them painfully to the floor.
“Did you find him?”
Williams gave his best friend a filthy look. “Oh yes Hank, I found him. That’s why I’m running through this subbasement like an idiot.” He pulled himself to a standing position, and then reached down to help McCoy to his feet. “Harry was right HERE, not four seconds ago, he ran around this corner, I take it you didn’t see him?”
“He must be doing that magical stealth thing again.” McCoy said, brushing dust out of his blue fur. His ears pricked up. Was that giggling? He looked about… nothing.
“’Sure we can stay with Harry, Tony’ you said.” Simon said picking himself up. “‘How much trouble can a nine year old be Simon?’ you said. The answer is quite a bit.”
The Quinjet performed a flawless vertical landing on the helipad of the Stark Estate. Harry thanked Thor for what seemed the thousandth time for his help. The Thunder God gently cuffed the boy, then with a frighteningly majestic swing of Mjolnir, the immortal vanished heading home to see his own father.
Harry entered the mansion, and quietly made his way through the halls. He hadn’t informed his father of what was happening, but the idea that the man didn’t know was laughable. The more he thought about the representative from the Embassy at his hearing, the less likely it was that Tony Stark was ignorant of what was going on. His first thought of the Grangers involvement fell apart when he realized that the representative had been a Wizard himself. How likely was it that the Grangers would know that there was a magical component to the US’s diplomatic mission when Harry himself hadn’t known?
The door to his father’s study was open. That could only mean that Tony was uncharacteristically home during the day. Which meant he knew about the troubles Harry had been through in Scotland, and he knew that Harry hadn’t come to him for help, instead going to others.
Harry presented himself at the door and knocked on the frame.
Tony Stark was sitting at his desk, he looked up at the knock, and smiled broadly, and he rose from his desk and pulled his son into an embrace. The man then guided his son to the leather sofa next to his desk.
“So, why Thor and not me?”
Harry developed an intense interest in his shoes. “They wouldn’t have allowed you to speak; the backward laws of that culture barely recognize non-magic users as human. The only way you would have gotten into the court room would have been to armor up and bust a lot of heads. Stephen and Mistress Harkness are both officially wanted criminals by their laws, so the same applied to them. Wanda would have had to throw a bit of power around to, because she’s a woman and doesn’t use the right kind of magic. Hercules would have broken heads on general principle; Sersi would have transfigured everyone in the courtroom. Thor is a magical person who is both intimidating enough to scare the bejeezus out of them and level headed enough to not actually kill anyone.”
“I can’t fault your logic in that, especially since it worked. But Harry, I knew about what was going on from the third day after they took your tech. You have some very good friends in Padma and Hermione. They got word to their parents, who got word to me. I was the one who got the Government involved. By the way, the British Prime Minister and Her Majesty the Queen are both sending you official apologies, and from what I hear, the Queen will be having a few select words with ‘The Queen’s Wizard’ which is the Minister of Magic’s official title.” He reached out and lifted Harry’s face to look at him. “Don’t hide things from me Harry. You are an accomplished young man, but your old man can still help, if only a little, besides,” Tony Stark smiled broadly “If they had been foolish enough to actually try to keep you away from me, they would find out just how well my toys work around magic.”
August 12 1989:
The Stark Estate:
Nine year old Harry Potter was having the time of his life. Hanging out with Hank and Simon was more fun than anyone should be allowed to have. Truly those two big people were as much kids as he was or Franklin was. Ah, there it was. Dad’s lab. All kinds of great stuff was in there… Maybe a surprise or two for his baby-sitters. A grin fixed on his face Harry started working on the door.
He thought about what Mistress Harkness had told him about his magic, that it was nothing more than an extension of his intent. Harry liked his stern tutor a lot. She was strict, her lessons sometimes made him think that his brain was going to liquefy and pour out his ears, but unlike so many of the other adults he had to deal with she never, ever spoke down to him.
But just intending for the door to open wasn’t good enough. There were far too many safeguards on the door; instead he was going to try to do what Wanda did. He was going to try to have his magic affect probabilities. If it worked, the door would open all by its self. Harry placed his hands on the door and focused on the possibility of the door opening, causing his magic to flow within him as he had been taught, Harry unleashed it into the door.
Six A.M. the morning after his return from Hogwarts, Harry was out on the grounds beside the Walnut tree he and Franklin had built a tree fort in when they were seven. He really loved this old tree, so many happy memories of nights spent in the fort, plotting the days when they would be costumed adventurers like their parents, oh and the horrible code names they had chosen, though the names paled next to the color blind monstrosities they had designed as their future costumes.
Harry worked his way through his morning stretches, just as he’d been taught
Harry’s heart soared. He wasn’t sure how this man would react to his failure to assimilate in his birth parent’s culture. That he was here now told Harry that the Captain didn’t hate him for his failure.
“Since it’s been a while since we had a decent work out, I thought we’d start out light today…”
Oh oh. A light work out for Steve Rogers would cripple most people.
“Let’s start with a three mile run” the living legend continued, “Then maybe an hour of aikido, just to see what kind of shape you’re in.” With that the man began his run, setting a pace for a five minute mile. He maintained that pace for the entire run.
Following the morning workout, Steve joined Harry for a light breakfast.
“Not bad, you’ve gotten your wind back since your injuries and your kata aren’t too bad… a bit slow and sloppy, but I’m writing that off to not having anyone to spar against. You haven’t forgotten how to fall. I think we’ll have you back up to speed in a few weeks”
Harry nodded. He knew that ‘up to speed’ was achieving a level of physical conditioning that would qualify him to excel at any sport offered for his age group, or with a little effort, to be able to hand Steve his towel after he finished HIS work out.
“So.” Rogers said. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Harry hesitated. “I screwed up. I didn’t get the job done.”
“Really? I’ve been over what Tony said happened, it seems to me you did alright.”
“I’m supposed to do better. There’s a prophecy…”
“Ah, more of your hocus pocus. I don’t believe in fortune tellers.”
“As I recall, you didn’t believe in magic either.” Harry grinned.
“Point.” The blond man considered that for a moment. “What does this prophecy say exactly?”
“I don’t know, really. The seer contacted me and told me that thousands would die if I didn’t return to Britain.”
Rogers straightened in his seat. “Tony didn’t tell me about that.”
“I didn’t tell him. He has a harder time with magic than you do.”
Rogers nodded. “What do you plan to do?”
The boy shook his head. “I don’t know, I really don’t. There are so many good people there, if my staying away is what kills them, I don’t know if I could handle that, but at the same time, they want to control me, to force me to abandon Dad. I just can’t do that.”
“I don’t have the answers you’re looking for Harry. But if you want an old man’s advice, go to your father and lay your cards out on the table. All of them. Then the two of you can work through what you need to do.”
“I know… I should have done it from the beginning, but I was worried…”
“That he would forbid your going.”
“Yeah. I never wanted to go there in the first place, but the prophecy… How could I ignore that? “ Harry shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ve got a while before you need to decide anything.” Steve sipped at his coffee. “Tomorrow we get back to basics… You aren’t going to improve if I keep taking it easy with you.”
Harry nodded while groaning inside. Tomorrow was going to hurt. A lot.
The End of Term staff meeting ended as they always did, quiet celebration for the school surviving yet another year. The next morning the staff would be leaving for their holidays, the three whose contracts were expiring would decide to either sign up for another year or to move on. Dumbledore was confident that all three would remain, leaving him with only the Defense Against Dark Arts Instructor to replace (again).
The staff’s disappointment in him over his handling of young Mr. Stark was more than evident. Stories of young Stark’s episodes of ‘civil disobedience’ had been exchanged around the table by the staff, officially disapproving while smiling and shaking their heads in amusement.
“I really had thought I’d seen everything. I mean I lived through his father and his gang of miscreants, I’ve even had the Weasley twins, who aspire to succeed the Marauders as the school’s premier pranksters, but the Stark boy…”
“The Muggles have a saying about idle hands.” Severus Snape said, recalling his own childhood. “It was a mistake to remove the boy’s focus. Prior to his… tantrum, his work was… adequate.”
Filius Flitwick smirked into his mug. For Severus Snape to describe any Ravenclaw’s work as ‘adequate’ was tantamount to high praise in deed, to have him describe the son of James Potter in such a way….
Poppy Pomphrey cleared her throat. “Albus, is the boy coming back?”
The Headmaster’s silence spoke volumes.
August 12 1989:
The Stark Estate:
The door to his father’s lab suddenly swung open. Cool, he could affect probabilities! Harry hopped up and down in excitement for a moment then entered the lab. There it was, the ‘techvest’ that dad had originally made to monitor his magic and it’s affect on electronics. Then it had been used as a test bed for Dad’s Powertap prototypes to see if Starktech could be powered by Harry’s magic.
Pulling off his shirt, Harry donned the techvest, and then set to attaching a few of the cool things that his dad had developed for it. Hank and Simon were never going to believe what his dad had come up with.
Harry exited the lab, and the door sealed behind him. He then turned and ran down the hallway looking for his adult playmates. Barreling around the corner he ran full on into a man in an odd red and black bodysuit. As they both fell to the ground Harry heard the telltale ’fzzz-pop’ sound of an electronic system being disrupted by his magic, and the intruder alarms of the manor began to sound.
“What the?” the confused intruder said. The manor’s defensive systems began to deploy against the man. He scooped Harry into his arms and the Intruder Defense AI was confused by the signs of a known being superimposed over the unknown causing the weapons systems to lock in safe mode. The intruder alarms continued to sound.
“I came for Stark’s tech.” The man in red and black rasped in Harry’s ear. “But I’ll settle for Stark’s kid. I’m sure he’ll sell me his toys to get you back.”
“One moment Miss….Harry!”
Coming in from his morning run, Harry heard Jarvis’ call as he was exiting the kitchen and returned to take the phone, mouthing ‘thank you’ to his man who was like a favorite uncle.
“Hello Hermione, it’s good to hear your voice. Just home from school?”
“Yes, Padma’s here with me.”
“Hi Harry!” came Padma’s lilting voice.
“Padma, it’s good to hear you as well.”
“It’s weird not being able to see you like if we used a floo.”
“Harry, this is horribly expensive and Mum gave me a time limit, we just called to tell you that everyone was worried about you. Neville said to tell you that he couldn’t handle all us girls by himself”
“Which one of you hit him for that?”
“I did.” Padma said with a giggle in her voice.
“Good, wouldn’t want him getting too comfortable.”
“Are you coming back Harry?”
Kristine Granger looked over the rim of her teacup at her daughter and her friend and sighed.
A friend who was spending the night. This was new; Hermione had never had friends that were close enough to spend the night. Somehow it seemed odd that this pair of twelve year olds would have bonded so closely with a boy
“Are you coming back Harry?” Hermione asked.
The pair crowded the telephone handset listening intently.
“Well, you’d better write you prat.” Padma said. “We’ve got a boat load of homework this summer and we’ll need someone to feel superior too.”
“You too Harry. You’ve got my number. You’d better call.” Hermione said adding to the conversation that Kristine could only hear one side of.
“Bye Harry.” Padma said.
“Goodbye.” Hermione added before hanging up the phone.
The two girls looked at the telephone wistfully.
“Well done ladies.” Kristine said. “Under five minutes.”
“Harry said that he’d call next time, when a few of us can get together near a phone.” Hermione said.
“So, is he coming back?” Kristine asked.
“He doesn’t know.” Hermione said with her voice cracking.
“I think he wants to, but…” Padma continued. “He doesn’t know if he can trust the Headmaster and the Wizengamot.”
On the morning of August 10th there was a loud crack sound twelve meters in front of the front door to the Manor of the Stark estate and two people suddenly appeared from no where. Almost as soon as they materialized alarms sounded and weapons systems deployed.
The smaller of the pair moved as if to draw a weapon.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The dry voice of Edwin Jarvis came from all sides of the intruders. “Producing a weapon or something that the defensive systems would take as a weapon will cause you much pain.”
“I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
“I’m sure you are madam. Does your school not teach the basic protocols of good manners such as calling ahead to request an audience?”
The woman colored. “I am unused to such treatment sir.”
“Indeed?” Jarvis answered. “We are unused to having associates of kidnappers suddenly appearing on our lawn. Please state your business so that you may leave.”
“We only want to speak with Harry Potter.” The woman’s companion said, speaking for the first time.
The door to the manor opened and Harry stepped out. “That’s too bad sir, because there is no Harry Potter here. As I’ve told you people many times my name is Harry Stark. Good Morning Professor. And you are sir?”
“Merlin, you look just like James. My name is Sirius Black, Harry, I’m your Godfather.”
“The same Sirius Black imprisoned for assisting in the murder of my birth parents and for the murder of one of my birth parent’s best friends and a dozen or so mundanes? You’ll forgive me sir if I’m something less than thrilled to meet you.”
“Harry, please, we need to speak with you on a serious matter.” Minerva said.
“We aren’t doing this on the front lawn Professor, nor are you speaking with me without my father being present. You can come back after seven pm tonight, my father will be home then and you will be able to have your say. For now, get off my father’s property.”
August 12 1989:
The Stark Estate:
Harry was shocked that the man in black and red would be like this. Being around his father and his father’s friends had almost allowed him to forget what he thought of as ‘The Bad Times’ when his aunt and uncle and cousin would hurt him for no reason. Well, no more. Steve had taught him lots of things, several of them were suppose to hurt big people. Time to see if he had actually learned anything in his morning lessons.
With calm deliberation he drove the thumb of his right hand into the left eyehole of the man’s mask.
Lucius Malfoy was a man on a mission, a mission assigned by his master more than a decade before.
“Lucius” The Dark Lord had said. “My victory is assured. However there are powerful forces aligned against me.” He handed Lucius a small book. Malfoy recognized it to be a Muggle diary. “This is a great prize Lucius. If I disappear and you are unable to find me for a decade, take this and arrange for it to be placed in the hands of a pureblood child starting their first year at Hogwarts. A young girl would be best as few boys that age would ever keep a diary. It is important that the book be used. This will bring me back to you.”
Lucius held the small book in his hand now and swept through Diagon Alley looking for a likely recipient. Ah, there. Perfect…
Minerva McGonagall perched primly on the sofa looking at her host over the rim of her teacup. The elder Stark radiated power. Not magic, but the charisma of a man who got things done, very like Albus, yet in a very different way. A very subdued Sirius Black sat next to her, while Harry sat next to his father with an expression of mistrust fixed upon his features. On the other side of Harry sat Agatha Harkness wearing an expression of vast disappointment while looking at her several greats Grand Niece.
“So” Tony Stark said. “Why are you here and why shouldn’t I have you thrown out?”
“Mr. Stark, we are here to offer both Harry and yourself the apologies of the staff of Hogwarts for the actions of our Headmaster and the Wizengamot for what was attempted last May. What they attempted was unforgivable.”
“Yet you have forgiven them.” Observed the Billionaire.
“Albus Dumbledore is a great man, but still a just man, one who makes mistakes. Some of us follow the greatness in him.”
“And what of you Mr. Black?” Harry fixed the older man with a stare. “How is it you are out of prison?”
“Evidence exonerating me was found. It showed that, as I always said, Peter Pettigrew was the traitor and the one who killed the Muggles.”
“And this evidence was discovered by…” Harry paused, “Albus Dumbledore?”
“How did you know that?”
“Ah, how very convenient. Harry slips from his control, and suddenly the Headmaster discovers evidence exonerating Harry’s Godfather, just in time to have him released so that he could accompany young Minerva to convince the lad to return to school.” Agatha shook her head. “Manipulation upon manipulation. Didn’t anyone ask why he didn’t find what ever he found a decade ago? He let you sit in that cell for all that time because he didn’t NEED you Mr. Black.”
Both McGonagall and Black blinked as they made the associations.
“Albus was rather driven in his late teens when he sought me out.” Agatha noted. “Even then he was so convinced he was right in every situation. It seems he has gotten worse.”
“Mr. Black,” Harry was starting to feel sorry for the older wizard. “You tell me that you are my Godfather. I’m afraid that I’m not really sure what that means.”
“Please, call me Sirius. My being your Godfather means that your parents entrusted me in guiding you through life in their absence.”
“Mr. Black, please take no offense, but I have a father to give me that guidance. While I’m grateful to Lily and James Potter for my life, I have no memories of them, nor any emotional attachment to them. I don’t know what circumstances kept you from me when I needed you, nor do I understand why I was left with as abusive a family as the Dursleys, but I was. I’m sorry sir, but you cannot just appear when it’s convenient to Albus Dumbledore to have you guide me. I am not lost.”
“Harry,” Minerva McGonagall interrupted, “Lily’s sacrifice allowed you to defeat the worst Dark Lord in living memory, you cannot abandon…”
“Surely you don’t subscribe to that nonsensical story Professor.” Harry shook his head.
“As I pointed out to Professor Flitwick, there was exactly one survivor of that encounter. Me. I have no idea what happened. The history books tell us that the bodies of Lily and James Potter were found, dead by the killing curse. Voldemort’s body was determined to be disintegrated by the same magical force that destroyed the cottage we lived in. I was found with this curse scar, that everyone knows was caused by the unstoppable, unsurvivable, kills without marking the body every time it’s tried, Killing Curse. Occam’s razor tells me that someone is looking to sell someone something with that story.”
The two visitors from Hogwarts blinked at the reference to someone’s razor, not understanding the reference.
“Mr. Stark, the fact remains that you did survive something that should have killed you, if not the exchange of magic, then at very least the event that destroyed your parent’s home. You are a symbol to many people of the light can achieve. Surely you aren’t willing to turn your back on them?”
Harry did not respond, rather he continued to stare vacantly at the Transfiguration teacher.
“Harry, are you alright?” his father asked. Harry didn’t respond in anyway.
Moving at a speed that belied her years, Agatha Harkness moved to look deeply into Harry’s eyes, and gasped. “Harry’s not here. He’s in an out of body event.”
The room erupted into chaos.
Harry found himself on a featureless plain tinted in reds and purples. Sitting in front of him on a black throne like chair was a woman.
Clad in a black flowing gown with red highlights in spider motif, the grey haired woman’s eyes were covered with a red band of fabric. She turned her face to face him.
“Good evening Mr. Stark.”
“Good evening to you Madame Webb. Is this strictly necessary? I was in a meeting.”
The woman nodded. “I know Mr. Stark. The signs pointed to your making a decision. I thought it wise to speak with you before you did so.”
“Last year you convinced me to attend Hogwarts telling me that if I did not return to Britain thousands would die. I returned, and the arrogant wizards attempted to take me away from my father.”
“As you recall, I told you that your way would be difficult no matter which path you chose. This continues to be so. All of your futures are now clearer to me. You are fated to face the man who killed your birth parents. All of your paths lead to such a confrontation. I still cannot see the outcome of that confrontation, as the two of you both employ far too many chaotic enchantments for me to see through. Your only options will be where this confrontation takes place, and how many die before you face each other.”
“That can’t be right. That man died.”
“No Mr. Stark, he did not. His body was destroyed, but he lives on. You actually met him last year when he was possessing one of your teachers. He was the one who loosed the troll into your school.”
Quirrell! Harry thought. That explained the ‘other entity’ his tech suit had detected.
“And what is my best path?” He asked.
“Best is subjective Mr. Stark. The path with the fewest deaths involves your returning to Hogwarts. Following that path you will confront your parent’s murderer in three years.”
“And if I stay here?”
“You will still confront him, but not until after he has consolidated his power in Britain, and in doing so liquidated those who do not fit in his view of blood purity.” She grimaced. “None of your friends from school would survive.”
Harry closed his eyes, and nodded. “Send me back.”
Harry opened his eyes to find his father’s worried face looking down at him.
“Are you alright Harry?”
Harry glanced around; he was in his room, away from the visitors from Hogwarts. “I’ve got to go back.” He whispered.
“I told you about the seer, Madame Webb Dad, she just ‘spoke’ with me. The Wizard who killed my birth parents is still out there, I’m the only one who can face him according to her. If I stay here, I still end up facing him, but only after he murders his way through the UK.”
Tony considered that for a moment. “I hate magic. How reliable is this seer? I couldn’t find out much about her other than Spiderman said she was helpful on occasion.”
“I can’t explain it Dad, but she knows. Really, she just knows.”
The Elder Stark’s mouth set itself to a hard like. “I don’t like it. I’ll talk to Agatha; you aren’t going back if I can’t get some guarantees.”
August 12 1989:
The Stark Estate:
The man in red and black screamed when Harry’s thumb drove into his eye and dropped the boy.
Harry hit the floor taking the impact on his butt like Steve had taught him, rolling to stand in front of the man.
“A sure way to get a man’s attention is to go for the crotch” Steve had told him, “But in our business most of the major players protect themselves there. But almost no one protects the other vulnerable spots. If you can’t reach his eyes, take out his knees.”
Harry launched a side kick at the screaming man’s left knee, shattering the man’s kneecap. Harry over extended the kick and fell as the man crumpled to the ground. Harry quickly crabbed away from the man then rolled to his feet maintaining his guard.
Attracted by the Alarms and near panicked by the screams Hank and Simon rushed to Harry’s side.
“Spymaster? My god Harry, are you alright?” The furry man scooped the boy up.
“Your fur tickles!” the boy giggled. “Steve was right, bad guys are stupid around kids.”
Simon Williams picked the whimpering man off the floor by his neck. “Idiot.” Wonder Man said carrying the man to the holding facility to await the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that the alarms had called. “Three people in the mansion and you picked on the one Captain America taught to fight.”
Hermione Granger looked up from her notes when the phone rang. She had finished all her summer assignments by the third week of the holidays, but it never hurt to review. She had been going with her parents to their surgery most days this summer, using one of their offices as to study, but most Fridays (like today) she remained at home, sometimes going to Padma’s or Hannah’s. Today however she was just spending a quiet day at home.
She picked up the phone on its third ring. “Granger Residence.” She said matter of factly.
“Hello Hermione.” Came a voice she had come to know well.
“Harry, how are you?”
“I just thought I’d call to let you know I’ll be seeing you on the train on the first.”
In a small township in the state of New York, a young man was almost deafened by a sudden squeal of happiness.
In order of appearance
Hank – Hank McCoy PhD. Biochemistry. PhD Genetics. PhD Physics. M. D. Large man, covered with Blue fur, his feet are as dexterous as his hands, very strong, very agile, and very fast. Most commonly associated with the X-men using his imaginative codename “Beast” He spent several years with the Avengers
Simon – Simon Williams. At the time of the story, Simon Williams uses the Codename Wonder Man. His body is permeated with ‘ionic energy’ He is very strong, extremely resilient, for all intents and purposes immortal. Works as an actor/stuntman (being indestructible makes the most extreme stunts somewhat risk free.) His major acting credit to this point in time was as a sidekick (and principle straightman/victim) of a children’s television Host ala Sideshow Mel to Krusty the Clown. His best friend Hank McCoy reminds him of this (and his multiple pie-in-the-face moments) all the time.
The Seer – Cassandra Webb, also known as Madame Webb, suffered from a lifetime of blindness and many years of neurological deterioration due to myasthenia gravis, she compensated with her profound psychic abilities, establishing herself as a medium. Her appearances are usually associated with Spiderman/Spiderwoman, but on occasion assists other Heroes, Harry Stark for instance.
The Man in Red and Black – Sinclair Abbott also known as Spymaster, the third user of that name. An unpowered master thief and spy, utilizing a high tech stealth suit to infiltrate high security facilities and make ‘impossible’ heists.
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents - Strategic Hazard, Intervention, Espionage Logistics Directorate. Founded to combat technologically advanced threats on World security, S.H.I.E.L.D. remains on the frontlines fighting terrorism and extraterrestrial menaces working as an international intelligence agency.