On that fateful Halloween night, Lily and James survived while Voldemort apparently 'marked' Harry Potter as his equal.
Aria Potter, twin sister of the boy-who-lived was proclaimed a squib, abandoned by her family and given to the care of the Dursl...
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Stark Tower , 8 years ago, 2:43 am,
The penthouse was quiet. Too quiet, in fact.
The kind of stillness that pressed heavy on a child's chest after waking up from a bad dream.
The soft patter of little feet echoed faintly down the corridor as a seven year old Aria crept along, the sleeves of her oversized Iron Man pajamas nearly swallowing her hands. Her hair stuck out in all directions from sleep and static, and her bottom lip was pulled tightly between her teeth.
She paused at the door to her dad's room.
It was cracked open, just a sliver, enough for a faint blue glow to spill out.
She didn't knock.
Only pushed the door open, slow as she could manage, and slipped inside like a shadow. Her eyes scanned the dark until they landed on the shape of him—her father, the man, the myth, the overworked legend—spread eagle across a bed way too big for one person, blankets kicked to the floor, one hand flopped dramatically over his face.
She took another step and his voice grumbled into the dark.
"I swear to God if this is about the robot vacuum again—"
"It's me," Aria whispered.
Tony paused.
He slowly peeled his arm off his face and turned his head to look at her, eyes squinting blearily. "...Kid?"
She nodded, lip trembling. "I had a nightmare."
His sigh was long and theatrical. "Of course you did. Can't be a Stark and have a normal REM cycle."
She started to retreat, assuming she'd get sent back to bed with some mumble about Jarvis turning on a nightlight—
"Don't just stand there like I'm about to charge you rent for floor space," he muttered, patting the empty side of the bed. "C'mon, jump in. Left side's yours, but no stealing blankets."
The seven year old didn't wait. She scrambled up onto the bed and immediately curled into a tight ball near his side.
He didn't say anything for a moment. Just watched her from the corner of his eye. Then he reached for the remote on his nightstand, thumbed a button.
Above them, the ceiling flickered—and transformed.
A thousand stars bloomed to life. Constellations. Galaxies. Nebulas. Like someone had ripped the roof off the tower and let them lie beneath the cosmos.
Aria's eyes were flooded with light, and her breath caught.
Tony glanced at her. "Cool, right?"
She blinked up at it in wonder. "How'd you do that?"
"Magic," he said, then added, "and a little help from a Stark-grade projector."
They laid there in silence for a beat, her small fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt.
