It Only Takes a Second

- XIX -

(A/N: MAJOR trigger warnings on this chapter. Reader discretion advised. Stay safe everyone.)

*

Harry wasn't sure what he was expecting when he opened the door, but he thought for sure some things would have changed.

Perfect, proper portraits of Dudley through various points in his life hung on the walls, complimented by pristine, completely normal family photos.

He glanced out the window at Tony and Natasha who were anxiously pacing by the car. They had wanted to come in with him, but something inside of him said he needed to do it by himself.

It was one final step of closure.

Closure on his past life.

The key had even been in the same place, under the doormat. He knew from Tony, though he wasn't sure how the billionaire knew (but he knew better than to ask), that Dudley and Aunt Petunia had gone to stay with family.

Now, he was just standing there in the doorway, looking around the house. It was strange, being there again. The house that had been his home for fourteen years, without ever really feeling like home.

Harry made his way to the cupboard, reaching for the knob before hesitating for a moment.

If he opened this door and retrieved his stuff, that was it.

This chapter of his life was over.

He scolded himself. The Dursley's had been nothing but vile to him for his entire life, so why was he hesitating?

He wanted, above anything else, to just forget everything they had put him through. So why was he hesitating?

He wanted to get his stuff, fly back to New York, get adopted, date Peter, and forget. So why was he hesitating?

With one final deep breath, he reached out and turned the doorknob and...

Nothing happened.

It was locked.

Cursing under his breath, Harry wracked his brain as to where he remembered the Dursley's keeping the key, before remembering Uncle Vernon throwing them into the dresser drawer upstairs on that day that Tony saved him.

Harry paused for a moment, debating on whether or not he should tell Tony and Natasha that he was going to be a few more minutes because he was looking for the keys, but he knew that they would insist on helping him look, and he really didn't want their help. He had to do this on his own.

He walked down the hallway to the staircase, noticing that the banister had been repaired from when Uncle Vernon threw him down the stairs. Aunt Petunia must have been mortified, having the police in and out of her home while it looked such a mess.

Harry paused for a moment, wondering why Aunt Petunia didn't get arrested. While she had never done anything to the extent of what his uncle had done, she had still done her fair share of abuse as well.

Shaking the thought from his mind, Harry slowly ascended the stairs, focusing on the grain in the hard wood. He didn't think it was going to be so hard to go back upstairs, but it was. It was where everything had happened. This bedroom was where his life crumbled around him, left for Tony, Pepper, and the rest of the Avengers to piece back together.

He reached the top of the stairs, noticing his trembling hand. This time, he knew that it was more than just the damage from the Cruciatus curse. No, this was fear.

"Just do it," Harry told himself, and before he could balk, he shoved open the door to the bedroom and took a large step inside.

He was just about to make a beeline for the dresser drawer that contained the keys when the bedroom door swung shut with a slam.