It Only Takes a Second

- III -

(A/N: Please note that this chapter has vivid depictions of abuse, mentions of sexual assault and abuse, as well as graphic descriptions of injuries. If you are at all sensitive to these specific things, please go check out another one of my... fluffier... works. As always, thanks for reading!)

*

"Hi, my name is Tony, and I have had the pleasure of meeting Harry this morning. Can I come in?"

*

Aunt Petunia narrowed her eyes at Harry, but she opened the door for Tony and escorted him inside. As soon as he was inside, she motioned for Harry to come inside as well.

Harry glanced up at Pepper, who was now standing right beside him. She gave him an encouraging nod, and began following him into the house.

Pepper was just itching to wrap her arms around Harry, march him right back into the car and take him back to New York with them. She could tell that these were the people that were responsible for Harry's suffering, but unfortunately she couldn't make any accusations without actual proof.

"Petunia! Who's at the door?" Vernon boomed, heaving himself off of the couch and stomping into the hallway.

"Who the hell are you?" Vernon barked, frowning at the unfamiliar man in his home. "We're not interested in what you have to sell, and I'll be sure to tell your employer that you're barging into people's homes!"

Tony couldn't help but chuckle at the morbidly obese man standing in front of him. He would have been more intimidating, except for the fact that he was as tall as he was wide, and his mustache reminded him of one of a walrus.

"He's not selling anything Vernon, he's here about the boy," Petunia hushed, widening her eyes at her husband.

Harry wanted to cry when he stepped inside and saw Uncle Vernon glaring at him, his face turning a nasty shade of purple with rage.

"Uh, yes," Tony interrupted, seeing how upset the man after the strange interaction he had just had with the horse faced woman. "I was just at the market and I met your son-"

"Son!" Vernon spat, making the word sound as if it was the most revolting thing anyone had ever made him say. "That boy isn't my son! He's the son of my wife's good-for-nothing sister!"

"She and her husband were drunks. They died when he was 15 months old- drunk driving. Found him on our doorstep the next morning. Been raising him ever since," Petunia told Tony. He could tell just by the strange amount of pleasure she had from telling the story that she loved to gossip about anything and everything.

"Well, um, yes," Tony cleared his throat. He glanced over at Harry who looked as pale as a ghost. Pepper was standing next to him, assuming an almost protective stance. A strange sense of joy bubbled in his chest when he thought about his fiancé taking a liking to the boy, but couldn't place why.

"So I was at the market this morning and I saw Harry. He wasn't looking too good, so I approached him to see how I could help, and then he collapsed. I helped him to a shady area, because I figured maybe he got overheated, wearing all that getup-" he motioned to Harry's sweatshirt and sweatpants, "and he passed out again. So I called my fiancé to come help me take him to the hospital, and he passed out again in the car, but when he came to, he refused and asked us to take him home.

"So we brought him here, and I figured I would want to know if he was my kid- nephew-" Tony quickly corrected as Vernon's began to open his mouth to speak. "I just wanted to make you aware of the situation."

"Oh he has fits like that all the time," Petunia said shakily, waving her hand. "Some head trauma from the car accident as a baby."

"That's right," Vernon said, stepping up beside his wife. "And we try to live life as normally as possible with it, so we would appreciate it if you'd drop it and allow us to live our lives. Have a good day now."