Tom Stark-Malfoy

*Tony's P.O.V. The night after the attack-seen in Iron Man 3 on Dec. 22*

[-Sir. Sir!.]

Oh god, everything hurts. I feel like I have a massive gash on my face and that alarm isn't helping.

"Alright, kill the alarm. I got it."

[That's the emergency alert triggered by the power dropping below 5%.]

What? I feel cold air whip past my face.

Am I falling? I'm falling!

I crash into the ground, the force of going over a hundred kilometers per hour, collided with every nerve ending I had left. My breathing left me in sharp, hollow rasps as I hit tree, rock, bouncing and tumbling off everything on this damn ground, my screams filtering whatever noise my body was not supposed to make.

And I'm still, dead on the floor as I start to regain my breath. I reach up to my head and take of my mask. Breathing in the fresh yet searingly cold winter air.

"Snow? Where are we, upstate?"

[We are 5 miles outside of Rose Hills, Tennessee]

"WHY? Jarvis! Not my idea! What are we doing here, this is thousands of miles away! I've gotta get Pepper, I've go to get Tom, I-'ve-"

[I prepared a flight plan, this was the location.]

"Who asked you?!"

[I-]

"Open the suit."

[I- I think I may be malfunctioning, sir.]

"Open eject."

The suit opens up, allowing the frosty air to seep over my body as I sit up.

"Hahhh, hohhh. That's cold."

I blow hot air into my hands and rub them together to create heat. I raised up my arm to inspect the subcutaneous electronic devices. No longer relishing in the cold, I just wanted to get back into my suit.

"Maybe I'll just cozy back up for a bit."

[I actually think I need to sleep now, sir.]

"Jarvis."

"Jarvis?"

"Don't leave me, buddy."

Great. . . Great. Just- great.

I look around at the dark ground covered with thick layer of snow. I was feeling smaller with every minute. Aliens. Terrorist attacks. And now my family.

I'm so sorry guys. Pepper. Tom. . . I'm so sorry.

I dragged the Mark 42 behind me, slowly making my way to the nearest town. After putting on a poncho from a statue I found a payphone.

{Stark Secure Server: Now transferring to all known receivers}

"Pepper, it's me. I've got a lot of apologies to make and not a lot of time, so first off. I'm so sorry I put you both in harm's way. That was selfish and stupid and won't happen again. Also, it's Christmas time. The rabbit's too big. Done. The tree's gone, Sorry. And I'm sorry in advance because I can't come home yet. I need to find this guy. You and Tom, please, stay safe. That's all I know. I just stole a poncho from a wooden Indian."

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*I placed names before dialogues to prevent any confusion*

December 23 - 4:30PM

*Tom / Draco's P.O.V.*

I felt myself regain consciousness, waking up to a blur of words I couldn't focus on.

Where am I?

"- - - -ye - -. - find- -."

"- - -Potter!- - -the- - ."

What?! Bloody Potter? My eyes flash open, opening up to the burning sensation of bright lights.

I immediately closed them once more, hissing at the pain. I tried opening them again, this time I slowly open my eyes, letting them adjust to my surroundings.

At first I could only see white blurs of colour, but my vision slowly cleared up. This happens quite frequently nowadays, losing consciousness and waking up to an unfamiliar room. I shouldn't be making a habit of it lest I become Potter. Now where is that git? I look around, but what I see isn't Potter.

White tile ceilings, white sheets, green cloaked woman, brown haired man in auror robes?

I blink and did a double take, focusing on the man and the woman chatting at a distance from me. I didn't see incorrectly. The stern looking woman was a mediwitch, provided her robes were her own. And those are most definitely Auror robes. While the woman was tall and had black hair and just as dark colored eyes, the man had an average height, light brown untamable hair and hazel eyes.

Potter: "- -hav- - you see-. - - - here to see the boy. And please Cecilia, pl- call me Samuel - - when we were still in school."

That man must be the Potter she was calling out to since they're the only ones here.

Cecilia: "- - - stop - - informal while working. - - -, he is quite peculiar. Wilkinson and Graves brought him in around noon, he was suffering from magic exhaustion, but now he's fully recovered. It should certainly have been impossible but I've never had such a case with one so young before. His youth should have played a role in speeding up the healing process. Though- there was some trouble, but I was able to heal every wound on the child. There shouldn't be any scarring."

Magic exhaustion; am I in the wizarding world? In a wizarding hospital?! With wizards and witches! I thought I had to wait until I was 11 since I never knew where the entrance to the wizarding world was in America.

Potter: "What sort of trouble was it?"

Cecilia: "Well, most of the damage done on his body was unlike any I've seen before. Nasty internal bleeding and fractured bones without any sort of bruise or indication of a hex. He was also burning up. It was as if his body decided to self-destruct. And at first, every single spell cast around him disappeared like mist. I was worried I'd turned into a squib, but it happened to everyone."

Potter: "It disappeared you say?"

Cecilia: "Indeed. After a few potions though everything returned to normal. Wasn't the first abnormal case I'd handled, they come in at least twice a day after all."

I wasn't hallucinating, thank god! But where am I? What am I doing here? Am I still in Malibu?

Potter: "Well that certainly is true considering my first trip to Ilvermorny clinic. One wrong wave of the wand and I grew foot long feathers from my nose!"

The mediwitch chuckled as if holding back a laugh

Cecilia: "I remember it as if it were yesterday, quite the charmer you still were even with pink feather sticking out of your nose. I still wonder how you never lost an admirer after any of your incidents."

Potter: "Once you know how to charm, you'd still be able to do it, no matter what the situation. -"

I started zoning them out after coming to the conclusion that they no longer gave any useful information. I guess I'm in a hospital. . . again. I get up from the bed slowly, careful of any lingering pains from earlier.

Wait, earlier I was- I still haven't found him! I need to go back.

Just as I was about to stand, a heavy hand pushed me back down, preventing me from getting up.

Potter: "Woah, hold your horses boy. You're still recovering from the horrible state you were in when you were brought here. And I need to talk with you about a few things, as well as ask you a few questions. Nothing too hard. Now why don't you sit down for a while."

I glared sharply at the man trying to stop me from finding my father.

Tom: "I can't. I need to find my dad!"

Potter: "Your dad?"

Tom: "Yes Tony, Tony Stark. Ironman! I need to find him before they do."

Potter: "Tony Stark? I didn't know he had a son. Well it has been some time since I last read the No-Maj paper. Now who are 'they'?"

Well that is plausible since I rarely left the house, and when I do I'm usually with Pepper. But No-Maj? What in Merlin's dusty beard is a no-maj?

Tom: "What's a no-maj?"

Potter: "Well sport, No-Maj is a term we use to call people with no magic. I'm sure strange things have happened around you when you're sad, happy, or angry. That's because you have magic, you're a wizard!"

I stared at the man with expectation in his eyes, but slowly it was dwindling. Is he expecting something? . . .

Right! The great reveal of magic to mudbloods! He thinks I'm a mudblood. But I'm not a mud- . . . I'm not a mug-... I'm not a no-maj born. However, it would be strange in my circ.u.mstances if I tell them that. They could do a background check on me and I would have no way of explaining why I know certain things.

But reacting with awe would be too late now.

Tom: "Are you alright? Is this part of a TV show joke you are doing on the children of rich people? If so it's not funny anymore. I demand to see my father!"

Potter: "Ah yes. You don't believe me. However, I must regretfully say that it is not a joke. We'll help you find your father, but you have to help us first. Now, who are these 'they' you are talking about?"

I smiled inwardly to myself. He bought it.

Tom: "Them. The people who blew up our house with missiles!"

Potter: "Missiles?!"

I certainly don't want to waste any time explaining myself to these people but the more people searching for my dad, the better. I need to know if he's useful or not.

Tom: "Do you promise?"

Potter: "Promise what?"

Unbelievable, are all Potters such dunderheads?

Tom: "Promise to look for my father?"

Potter: "Yes, I promise."

I searched for the honesty and commitment in his eyes, smiling once more to myself as I found it. Surprisingly it wasn't that hard and didn't take long to find as I saw that same conviction in another irritating Potter's eyes almost everyday in my past. I nodded my head and continued.

Tom: "Yesterday, our house was attacked by terrorists. They were riding helicopters and attacked us with missiles, propelled precision-guided munition systems carrying explosives. Pepper, Maya, and I were able to escape but I blacked out before I could see my father get out as well. He's out there somewhere, I know it. I have to find him!"

Potter: "A propelled what?"

Tom: "A flying bomb!"

Potter: "I know what missiles are boy, I just couldn't imagine anyone targeting a child with them."

Oh, I thought he was asking. Never mind, doesn't matter.

Tom: "They didn't target me with it. They targeted my dad. I can't waste anymore time talking, we need to find him or he will be in danger!"

Potter: ". . . This morning, you were looking for him."

Tom: "Yes, I was."

Potter: "You can't keep doing what you did. Do you know what happened to your body?"

Tom: "Yes I-"

I ran out of magic and probably damaged the pathway of magic in my body to a great extent. But I can't say that, can I? He thinks I'm mugglebor- no-maj born. I can't believe I almost made a slip, especially as a slytherin. I'm becoming too rash and acting before I think, almost like a- . . . A gryf-fin-dor. How repulsive.

But he's right, I can't keep acting like this. I keep regretting the countless times I'd failed or lost something because I didn't act fast enough. And now, to ensure it doesn't happen again, I've forgotten to think things through before I act.

A snake who has completely forgotten how to act like one is worse than a lion.

Now what have I done wrong?

Tom: "How did you find me? No one knew where I was."

Potter: "We were alerted by wandless magic use in a heavily populated no-maj area. Then we stayed and looked out for any unauthorized magic use in the city. We knew where you were the very next time you used magic after the junk shop."

So my very first action had already been wrong. I shouldn't have gone to the shop. I should have brought money. There are countless things I failed to do because of my recklessness. Be that as it may, there is still one think that I can't place a finger on. Why does it seem as if they sensed only the magic used in the junk shop and the mansion? Didn't they sense the magic I used in the hospital? There was also that woman, was she not muggle? Did they find and obliviate her?. . .

Could the hospital be warded? Maybe there were a lot of wizards there and so my magic use was camouflaged. I should find out next time- . . . I sighed. Just after rebuking myself for being impetuous, I go and plan out the next 'great adventure' (note the sarcasm).

Potter: "You don't sound like a kid who first learned of magic."

Tom: ". . . My dad fought aliens and is teammates with a mutant, a god, a really old guy who looks to be in his 20's, an assassin, and a . . . man with a bow. Never mind the last person, but I think I gave my point."

Potter: "Touché. Well then does this mean we have a deal? I'll have my men track down your father and you answer all my questions. No lying."

Tom: ". . . Deal." I just need to tell him half truths.

Potter: "Alright first I need you to tell me your name and if you already knew of magic before today."

Tom: "Tom. Tom Stark. And- I've known about my powers all my life."

Potter: "You have? Who taught you? Did you tell anyone?"

Tom: "I've never had any teachers for my past 7 years, I've been practicing it on my own. I never told my dad nor Pepper since they were rarely home."

I masked the growing smirk on my face seeing his surprise and pity. Just like Saint Potter to pity and try to save everyone he meets.

Potter: "Oh well, how about your friends?"

Tom: "I don't have any. I'm homeschooled."

Potter: "I'm sorry. I mean, hey, I could be your friend!"

What? Barmy old man.

Tom: "I don't want you to. You're old. People your age should be getting friendly with working women, not 7 year old boys."

At the corner of my eye, I could see the offended yet amused expression of the man and behind him the stern mediwitch who wanted to reprimand me. (Who looked eerily like a possible relative of Professor Mcgonagall)

Potter: "Where did you learn such things?"

Tom: "From my dad."

I inwardly grin at the dumbstruck conflicted man. I wait for a few seconds for the man to continue his questioning but silence permeated the room.

Tom: "Are the questions done? Then let's look for him."

Potter: "You got me there kid. Alright, let's go."

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As soon as we stepped out of the building, it was as though the entire world had changed. Lights twinkled brightly on every post, roof, and tree. Old, wooden buildings lined the edges of unusually named streets, well unusual for non-magic folk that is.

All sorts of colors would flash through the shop windows, illuminating a bright array of strange knickknacks. Some of the trinkets fluttered around within their cases, whilst others emitted a jaunty tune whenever someone walked by.

Somewhere overhead there are owls flying left and right, delivering last minute Christmas letters and presents.

Wizards and witches dressed in their robes of different styles and colors massed in tight clumps on the street. Some rushed hurriedly by with giant steps, whilst others walked at their own pace. But everyone would call out to one another with their holiday blessings and cheer. Their greetings playing a symphony heard only during the most anticipated time of the year.

To any other child, everything would scream of magic, wonder, and dreams. But for me, it can only be described in one word.

Home. This was where I belonged.

Potter: "Right this way Tom, follow after me!"

"Good Afternoon Mr. Potter! P.l.e.a.s.u.r.e to see you this afternoon."

I turned to face the man who called out to. . . Potter. Noting his wide smile and cheery atmosphere. Hufflepuff. There is no other term to describe this man who bleeds yellow and black.

Potter: "Mr. Grimsditch! it's great to finally see you not hidden behind your desk, I almost didn't recognize you."

Grimsditch: "Well it's a most wonderful time of the year after all, I refuse to torture myself with more paperwork."

Potter: "As do we all. Send my regards to Mrs. Grimsditch, she's been quite dazed these past weeks."

Grimsditch: "It's all the last minute Christmas shopping I tell you. Nothing to worry about."

Potter: "Well, we best be on our way now. Little Tom and I have to fill out our own few forms."

Grimsditch: "Little Tom? Why, I didn't see you there!"

I jumped at the sudden attention.

Grimsditch: "What might your name be?"

Tom: "Hello Sir. My name's Tom, Tom Stark."

Grimsditch: "Tom Stark? Might you be related to that superhero, Ironman?"

Tom: "Yes Sir. He's my father."

I wait for his reaction of surprise and awe but was unsettled by his unanticipated dispirited look.

Grimsditch: "I'm sorry. It is taken with great pain, the loss of a such great man brings. Especially to family. If there is anything I could do to help-"

Tom: "He's not dead!" I cut him off before he could continue what he was saying.

Tom: "I know he out there hiding somewhere. It's not the first time."

Grimsditch: "I see, so where are you boys headed?"

Tom: "I'm taking him to Central Hall." Potter speaks up before I could, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

Grimsditch: "Oh? Well you should hurry up then, it's past 5 o'clock."

Tom: "Goodbye then Grimsditch. Merry Christmas."

Grimsditch: "Merry Christmas Potter, you too Mr. Stark."

I nod my head and push Potter forwards, not wanting to be near that man again. How dare he insinuate that nonsense.

We walk down the street quite similar to Diagon Alley. There was a broom shop, a candy shop, a bookstore, an owl post, everything that was there, I could find here.

"Here we are, watch your step."

We stop in front of a smaller building with the words "MACUSA District Office" engraved over the top of two doors raised a few feet above ground level. I took each step on the three step wooden stairs with care, the splintered wood creaking underfoot.

Inside was much larger than the outside and looked of a much higher class than the old rotting wood entrance on the exterior of the building.

The tiled floor had lotus patterns, and the tinted glass gave an air of class. Behind the intricately carved reception desk sat a woman who was thin and positively ancient. Her hair was spattered with grey and her brown eyes flitted over doc.u.ment after doc.u.ment, her rectangular glasses perched right at the tip of her long nose.

Potter: "Good afternoon Ms. Fowler, I'm here to register a minor, No-Maj born."

Fowler: " ? " The witch leaned over her desk to look at me.

Fowler: "Why you would bring him here? All No-Maj borns are automatically registered by Ilvermorny after they get their letter at the age of 11. He seems no older than 8 or 9."

Potter: "Ah yes, he is scheduled for an introduction later this evening due to. . . over use of controlled magic."

Fowler: "! . . . I see. Well then Mr.?"

Tom: "Stark, Tom Stark."

She reached for something under her desk and places it on top of the desk facing me. A piece of paper, and ink pot, and a quill similar in size and color to the ones found in Gringotts.

Fowler: "Mr. Stark. I will have you write your basic information. Don't bother lying, it will change back to the truth anyway.

I nod my head and take the quill with practiced ease. It has been quite some time since I last used a quill but it seems like I still haven't forgotten.

Dipping the quill tip into the pot, I look over the paper and immediately come across a problem. Have I been registered as Draco Malfoy already? If I write Tom Stark will it change into my real name? But Tom is also my name since it is on both of my muggle adoption and birth certificates.

Elegantly, I write my name on the paper. Tom Stark. And wait for it to change. While writing my other information like my birth date and Guardian's name, I inwardly cheer and am saddened that the ink doesn't move at all.

Did my parents already forget about me? Promptly after filling it all in, the ink of my birth date changed from June 7 (the day I arrived in America and what was written on my birth certificate) to June 6 +0. I thought maybe it would change to June 5 which is my real birthday from my past life but there it is, June 6, though I have no clue what the '+0' is.

/ Little did anyone know 'Draco Lucius Malfoy' had already been written down on Hogwart's Book of Admittance which will bring about a few complications in the future /

/A/N: YOU DON'T NEED TO READ THIS. . . maybe:

for those who will question why Tom Stark didn't change into Draco Lucius Malfoy, this is because he has already been registered by muggle paper and so legally he is Tom Stark, adopted son of Tony Stark. Lucius had registered his son right after birth (just before he went missing the day after- leading to the quill of acceptance to write down his name into the book of admittance) this will lead to inheritance issues, and a lot more identity crisis problems of course but it won't be found out until much later. +0 is the time zone England is in, the Western European Time Zone whereas CA, America can either be -8 or -7 during daylight saving time. I hope this was helpful./

Fowler: "Alright you are free to go, just don't be late to the meeting."

She slid the piece of paper off the desk and placed it into a folder on a shelf behind her.

Potter: "Thank you Ms. Fowler. You say your thanks as well."

Potter nudged my shoulder with his right arm.

Tom: "Thank you Mr. Fowler."

Fowler: "You're welcome Mr. Stark."

When we left the building at the sight I saw a couple of newspapers. Reading up to date news wouldn't really be of a loss to me. I reach over to Potter's sleeve and tugged before voicing out my thoughts.

Tom: "Can we look at some papers?"

Potter looked down at me and smiled.

Potter: "Sure thing."

We headed over to the newspaper stall and I started looking over the different titled and pictures. Man Saves Family From House Fire. Failed Attempt To Break Out Of Azkaban. Ilvermorny's School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry Now Offering N.E.W.T. level Alchemy. I glance at the other papers until I come upon the most recent one. No-Maj Superhero Dies After Threatening Mandarin.

In the front cover I could a picture our house getting bombarded by missiles. My vision starts to get blurry and heat rises into my face. They're wrong, he's not dead. He always disappears but he always comes back!

I could feel anger tinting my vision red, with wh.i.p.s of magic sizzling at my fingertips. I heard startled screams before feeling my head being pulled back and a vial being pushed against my lips, its contents pouring into my mouth. I was about to spit it out before there was a jab against my stomach causing me to swallow. I bent over and coughed due to the sudden intrusion of a potion down my throat, feeling calmer I noted that the taste was that of a calming draught. Immediately I started glaring at Potter.

Potter: "I didn't give you anything bad, it was to calm you down since you were doing accidental magic."

Tom: "I did accidental magic?"

Potter shrugged and gestured to the newspaper stall now missing quite a lot of papers and the ones that remained were shredded to oblivion.

Tom: "Th-that?! I-, I-."

Potter: "I know you didn't mean it, but first you should apologize to the man whose livelihood you destroyed."

I turned to face the startled wizard and apologized. I didn't even notice I had done magic. After a while I felt a person's hand patting my head.

"It's alright kid. I know you didn't mean it, and thank you for apologizing."

My eyes grew wide at the strangeness of this man. I destroyed his stall and he thanks me? Though it does feel nice to have others commend me for saying sorry. No one has done so before, all this time I was just s.u.c.k.i.n.g in my pride. So this is what it feels like to say the right thing without a heavy heart. It's less aggravating than I thought.

Potter: "No, thank you for letting him off, I'll pay for everything."

"Oh you don't need to, it's Christmas. It's the season of giving, there is no reason to be stingy."

Potter: "Then that's even more of a reason for me to pay for it. Don't worry I am fully capable of it, our family is quite well off. Take it as my gift to you."

"Well if you say so, here you can have some candy. It's all I have to give, I hope you won't mind."

Potter: "Oh, not at all. I love fizzing whizbees! Here Tom, try some."

I considered not eating it but thought better of it. Because if I do take one I will float and won't be able to walk properly on my own. Then he would have to drag me around which would be favorable on my part since my feet were starting to hurt from all the walking.

Taking two, I started to suck on them and float, not forgetting to put on a shocked expression. Potter laughed before saying goodbye to the man and grabbing hold of my shoulder, pushing me as he heads towards our next destination. I know I shouldn't be this calm or happy after that incident, but I blame it on the calming draught.

.about

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