Man of Iron, Child of Magic

7

When the car dropped them off not quite half an hour later, Tony looked around curiously. Charing Cross Road was one part of London he'd never seen before. It was famous for its bookstores, though other types of shops were dotted here and there, and Tony frowned when he didn't see anything that looked like it might be magical.

"So far, not impressed," he muttered, and felt a hand tapping his shoulder.

"What?" He looked up to see Steve pointing across the street.

"There," Steve said, "between the record shop and the book shop."

Tony blinked, and suddenly there was another shop between them. The sign proclaimed it The Leaky Cauldron.

"If you aren't magical and don't know it's there, you won't see it," Harry explained, eyeing the traffic coming both ways. "Do either of you see a pedestrian crossing?"

"We passed one a block back," Steve said. "No light, though."

He led the way, followed by Harry, and Tony brought up the rear, the odd thought that he and Steve were positioned somewhat like a protection detail barely registering in his mind.

Inside, the pub itself was dark, even after enough time had passed that Tony's eyes should have adjusted, and rather shabby, and a low murmur of conversation paused briefly as the double handful of customers looked up. A few frowned, though Tony couldn't guess why, but after a moment, conversation resumed.

"Cor, Mr. Potter," came a surprised voice from behind the bar. Tony glanced that way and took in the older, bald barman. "Have a little accident, did you?"

"Not quite so little, Tom," Harry replied. "It killed my Aunt Petunia."

"Sorry 'bout your aunt," Tom said.

Harry nodded a thanks as he hobbled closer. "Not so bad as all that - I got a new guardian out of it. Tony Stark is my - guardian, and Steve Rogers is a friend of his. This is Tom. He owns the Leaky and has always been nice to me."

After the introductions were acknowledged, Tom said, "Looks like the accident banged you up a bit, too, didn't it?"

"Two cracked ribs, a fractured left clavicle, and a broken left wrist and ankle," Harry replied. "And a lot of bruises."

Tom's gaze flicked from Tony to Steve and back before settling on Harry. "You're gettin' good care, I take it?"

"It's okay, Tom," Harry said as he made it to the bar, Tony a half-step behind him and Steve another step behind him. "They know. And this is the best Muggle care available."

"Well," Tom said, "I'm no healer, but - if your guardians don't mind, that is - I've fixed up a fair few customers who got a bit rowdy of a night. I could fix you up, I reckon."

Tony understood immediately - the barman was offering to use magic to heal Harry. By the look on his face, Harry wanted that, and badly.

"Please?" Harry asked.

Truthfully, Tony hated - make that hated - the idea of someone casting a spell on his son, but this was apparently part of their world now, so he blew out a breath. "If you're sure, Harry-"

"Oh, yes," Harry said immediately. "They're just simple fractures, at least according to the X-rays."

"They let you see your X-rays?" Steve asked, astonished.

"I asked," Harry said. "And it was kinda cool, except they were my bones, you know?" Then he turned back to Tom the barman. "When can you do it?"

"Right now," Tom replied. "Let's just get you someplace more private. It's summat small, though."