Man of Iron, Child of Magic

3

It wasn't long before Harry was dressed - in clothes that looked three or four times - not sizes, times - bigger than he was, and Tony forced himself to save questions about them for later as they got Harry out of the hospital and into the car.

Of course, Tony mused, Dr. Mendscole was certain Harry had been neglected, if not actually physically abused, so maybe ill-fitting clothes was just one more aspect of it. Still, he'd have to ask, once they were settled in for the night.

During the ninety-minute drive to Little Whinging - and, really, where did the Brits get names for their towns? - Tony came to one inescapable, inevitable conclusion: his son was hiding something.

Tony didn't know what, or why, but the way Harry spoke about his school only in generalities, the way he paused before he answered every question, and a nervousness Tony hadn't seen when they were talking about James and Lily Potter all supported his conclusion.

The question was, what was he going to do about it?

If Harry were anything like him - or Lily, for that matter - pushing him would only make him retreat into himself and set back the fragile trust they were beginning to build.

He'd offered the letter from James and Lily again, but Harry shook his head, and Tony understood. He wouldn't want to read something so emotionally charged in public, either.

Then Rogers asked, "How are your grades? Generally speaking?"

"About half As, a few Es, and one O," Harry replied absently, and Tony and Steve shared a look.

"Okay, that's nothing like the American grading system," Tony said, "so you'll have to explain it. I mean, to us, an A is the best you can get."

Harry laughed quietly. "A is for Acceptable. E is for Exceeds Expectations. And O is Outstanding."

"Our is ranked A, B, C, D, F," Tony said. "So, sounds like mostly Cs, a few Bs, and one A?"

"Probably," Harry said.

"Are you doing your best?" Steve asked, and he managed to do so without an accusing tone to it, which Tony wasn't sure he could've managed.

"I - don't know. Maybe?"

"How can you not know?" Tony demanded, and hoped it sounded more incredulous than accusatory.

Apparently not, because Harry flinched a little.

"I -" Harry swallowed and looked away, out the window of the car at the passing buildings. "I wasn't allowed to do better than Dudley," he said finally. "So - I stopped trying. Even after I went away to school."

It was as much the matter-of-fact tone Harry used as the words that made Tony feel a little homicidal.

Thankfully, Steve picked up the conversation while Tony got his impulse under control.

"If you're slightly above average without trying, I'm sure you'll be near the top of your class when you start trying again," Steve said. "But even if you're not, as long as you're doing your best, Tony will be proud of you."

"He's right," Tony said immediately. "I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't like for you to outshine both of your parents, but you're you, and as long as you do your best, that's what matters."

"I will," Harry said. "I promise."

When they turned into Privet Drive, Tony focused on not snorting at the drab sameness of the houses along the street.

"Should've named this area Stepford," he muttered, only to be met by twin expressions of confusion. He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Right - we are having a movie marathon at some point."