[Author Note: Tony Stark is straight, He is not Gay. English is not my first language]
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It was past two in the morning when Sirius wandered into the kitchen for a glass of wine, The lights were dimmed to a warm amber glow—just enough to see but not enough to fully wake the senses. That was probably the point.
Tony sat at the island counter, barefoot, shirtless under his hoodie, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a nearly full glass in the other. There was no ice. No mixer. Just… vodka.
Sirius raised an eyebrow upon seeing this. "Vodka at two AM? What happened? Did Jarvis say something snarky again?" he teased.
Tony glanced up, eyes shadowed and tired, but he smirked faintly. "Nah. Jarvis knows better than to sass a man with unresolved trauma and no bedtime."
Sirius walked in and pulled a stool beside him. "Mind sharing?"
Tony pushed the bottle toward him wordlessly.
Sirius poured himself a shot and downed it in one go. "Damn. That's not the cheap stuff."
Tony swirled his glass, eyes unfocused. "Yeah… nothing but top-shelf poison for the Starks."
There was a silence, the kind that doesn't need to be filled—but eventually, Tony spoke again, softer this time.
"You ever think about the kind of life you had before everything fell apart?" he asked, not really waiting for an answer. "Before Afghanistan. Before the press conferences and before all of this...?"
Sirius just listened.
"I was a genius. A billionaire. A playboy. Asshole, too," Tony said, his tone somewhere between self-mocking and honest reflection. "I thought I had everything. Women, weapons, money. I didn't need anything else."
He paused, taking a long sip.
"And now? I have a ten-year-old magical kid calling me brother and a former dark wizard crashing in my guest room who turns out to be my relative, A grand uncle? Cousin? I've got a werewolf and a literal man who can become a furry doggy raiding my liquor stash in the dead of night."
Sirius raised his glass in mock salute.
Tony laughed—short, dry. "It's insane. I didn't sign up for this magical mess, y'know?"
"You are drama," Sirius deadpanned.
"Exactly!" Tony exclaimed. "Trouble comes to me whether I like it or not. It just… happens. And I keep telling myself it'll calm down. That one day, I'll get a moment to breathe. But that moment never comes."
He rubbed his face, then stared down into his glass.
"…Sometimes, I wish I could just have five minutes. Just five. To sit with my parents. To hug them. Talk to them."
Sirius's expression softened.
"Howard was a lot of things," Tony went on, voice quiet. "Cold. Harsh. Distant. But he was still my dad.... I kinda wish I just...."
Sirius looked at him, then down at the counter.
"I never had that," he said, voice low. "My mother didn't love me. Not really. Not like a mother should."
Tony turned slightly, watching him.
"She loved the idea of me. The pureblood heir. A Black, through and through. Noble and ancient and rotten to the core." Sirius let out a bitter chuckle. "I joined Gryffindor just to spite her. Wore red like a badge of rebellion. Every second I breathed was an offense to her beliefs."
"What about your dad?" Tony asked softly.
Sirius scoffed. "He was a coward. He didn't scream or hex like she did. He just… stood aside. Always. Let her do whatever she wanted. Never lifted a finger when she cursed me. When I left."
There was a pause. A long one.
"She tried to kill me once," Sirius said suddenly. "After I ran away to the Potters' for summer. Came back to grab something I left behind. She caught me. Hit me with something dark and vile—I still don't know what it was. James's dad found me passed out near the gate. I was 15."
Tony blinked. Then muttered:
"…What a bitch."
Sirius snorted. "You're not wrong."
They both laughed. It wasn't a loud laugh—it was cracked, tired, almost broken. But it was real.
After a moment, Tony poured Sirius another shot, and one for himself.
"To dysfunctional families," Tony said, raising his glass.
Sirius clinked it. "And the ones we make for ourselves."
They drank in silence, not needing to say anything else. The night was still heavy with their ghosts—but for once, neither of them was facing them alone.
———
Tony was deep in the guts of a new circuit board, his fingers deftly adjusting microwires with a practiced ease only years of experience—and sheer stubbornness—could bring. Sparks danced briefly as he welded something together.
Then came the rush of footsteps.
"Tony!" Harry's voice called from the doorway, sounding excited and a bit breathless.
Tony didn't look up. "What's up, Mini Stark?"
"Can I go visit Ron? He invited me over for a few days. Hermione's gonna be there too. Just a little summer hangout."
Tony raised one brow, still soldering. "You mean hangout with your chaos friends" Tony waved a hand absently. "Go ahead. Just don't blow anything up."
"Yes!" Harry beamed, spinning on his heel and sprinting down the hall.
The lab fell quiet again, save for the gentle whir of machines. Tony kept working… for about thirty seconds.
Then he paused.
His hands froze mid-motion. His brow furrowed.
He straightened up slowly, gazing blankly at the wall in front of him, as if his brain had just caught up to something important.
"Wait a second," Tony muttered. "If Harry's learning spells and magical history and potion-brewing… what about the normal stuff?"
He looked to Jarvis.
"Jarvis?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Isn't he supposed to be getting a regular education, too? Like math? Science? Taxes? All that fun, soul-crushing stuff the rest of us had to suffer through?"
"It would appear Mr. Potter's formal education has focused exclusively on the magical curriculum provided by Hogwarts."
Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That's what I thought."
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Call Hermione. She's the brains of the operation."
"Dialing now, sir."
The line rang a few times before it picked up.
"Hello?" came a warm, polite voice—an older woman's, with a clear British accent.
Tony smiled. "Hi. it's Tony, Harry's big brother, Remember me?"
"Oh, Tony! Of course, I remember you"
"Is Hermione around?"
"One moment, dear, I'll fetch her."
Tony waited, drumming his fingers on the table.
Soon enough, Hermione's voice came through the line, slightly breathless.
"Tony?"
"Hey, Brainiac. Don't worry, I'm not calling to tell you Harry isn't allowed to visit. He's already packing and yelling about jelly beans."
"Oh." She laughed lightly. "Good. I thought maybe you changed your mind."
"Nope. But I do have a question."
"Sure, what is it?"
Tony leaned against the table. "Are you studying non-magical subjects? Like Muggle world courses? High school stuff, university prep? That kind of thing?"
There was a pause.
"Well… yes," Hermione replied slowly. "Sort of. I've been taking a few online classes and keeping up with Muggle studies on my own. But I'm planning to work in the wizarding world. It just… makes more sense, given my skillset."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Wait. So that's a choice? Like, you either work in magical society or the Muggle world?"
"Exactly," Hermione said. "Most witches and wizards stay in their own community. There are positions—Ministry departments, magical research, spellcraft, creature studies…"
Tony sighed and rubbed his temple. "Yeah, but do they get degrees? What if you want to apply for something here? What if Harry wants to take over Stark Industries in ten years? Or just open a bakery or get a driver's license? Don't you guys need, like, SATs? Diplomas?"
"Well…" Hermione hesitated. "Technically, no. Hogwarts doesn't prepare us for Muggle certifications. That's why some Muggle-borns or half-bloods do extra coursework or just live fully in the magical world."
Tony stared blankly into space.
"So you're telling me he's learning magic, but he couldn't file a tax return or apply for a passport if his life depended on it?"
Hermione laughed nervously. "Um… accurate?"
Tony dropped his head into his hands with a groan. "Oh, that's just great."
He pulled himself upright. "Alright, new plan. When Harry gets back, I'm adding a few tutors to the Stark Tower schedule."
"You're… gonna give Harry tutor classes on Muggle side?"
"Yup"
"Don't you think he already has a lot on his plate? He's still dealing with—"
"I'm not gonna drop an academic bomb on him, kiddo. I just want to make sure the kid can survive in both worlds. He deserves the option."
There was a pause, and then Hermione said more softly, "That's actually… a really good idea."
"I know. I'm a genius."
"You're also overbearing and dramatic."
"I take that as a compliment."
Hermione chuckled. "Alright. I'll even help you build the curriculum if you want. Something balanced. No soul-crushing calculus."
"Deal"
As the call ended, Tony stared at the ceiling.
"Jarvis?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Add 'Wizard Kid Survival Program' to my to-do list."
"Already done, sir"