Tom Stark-Malfoy

(This chapter has quite a lot of P.O.V. shifts because I want to share the P.O.V. of different people so be prepared!)

I'm sitting in a white room, waiting for him to open his eyes. The medi-witch said that they've done all that they could, and all that's left to do is wait. The clock hands keep spinning, but I'm stuck in place. I could see the people come and go through the gap in the door, either laughing or crying. All of them are filled with emotions heightened to the extreme, but I only feel an emptiness that is eating me from inside. I want to say it's my stomach, but the pain is higher positioned than that.

I thought that there was nothing more emotionally and mentally draining than waking up every day in a house that was no longer a home, and going to sleep at night with wizard Hitler a few doors down.

I've exprerienced and wasn't as lost when waking up to the rubbles of my house, and a presumably dead father who never called me son. Wondering if he tried to kill you. Wondering if you had just lost everything or if you never had them in the first place. But I've never felt more alone than I do now.

I've caused the death of countless others, but neither their blood that has pooled by my feet nor the tears of their loved ones ever downed me. Why is it than I'm now drowning in my own *whisper* tears? Why am I so powerless against him? I can't even hate nor love, and save nor kill him properly. Just live already so I can forgive myself, or die so I can abhor myself. Can't you let me be selfish and think of myself than strangle me alive by thinking of you?

I've never thought of others before (Father and Mother taught me to prioritize myself- to think like a true Slytherin), I never knew it could be this tiring.

It's already 10pm but I still haven't eaten. I feared that my stomach would refuse any contents, and indeed that has happened so I don't want to repeat it anymore. Is my stomach trying to reflect the state of my heart?

. . . Hahaha. . Ha. . . ha. .

Woe is poetry roused by the theatrical darkness of the Slytherin common room. [1]

"Please wake up. Please." I pleaded barely above a whisper. A teardrop makes its way down my cheek, but I wipe it off with my forearm before anyone could notice.

"Wake up already. I'm bloody hungry. . . Let's eat together. Let's go to Disney, they have clam chowder. You wanted to try it right? *hic* It also sounds pretty good to me. *sniffle* There's also Ihop, they have a special ma- *hic* make your own pancake. B-but it only *sniffle* lasts till tomorrow so you should wake up before- *hic* before- *hic*"

I shut my mouth and bite on my lip before I could burst out into a fit of crying. I can't possibly embarrass myself by crying like a baby.

*breathe in* *breathe out*

*breathe in* *breathe out*

"Tony. . . I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for not trusting you, and for failing to save you. I should have been m.a.t.u.r.e, and not let my emotions get the better of me. Hurting you as a result of my childish tantrum is unforgivable. But most of all, I'm sorry that I wasn't a good son. I have no right to call you father."

". . ."

"Now all I have to do is repeat that when he's awake."

*grunts*

"You- ! You're awake?"

"Who said you can stop being my son?"

"Dad. Oh-, I mean Tony. I uh-"

Why, of all times, did Merlin choose to curse me inarticulate at this very moment?! I have never stuttered my whole life, and I never will! Should anyone refute me, I will deny it!

"Listen here-"

My attention quickly shifts back to Tony as he tries to sit up in bed.

"No! Lie down. Don't make your injury worse."

He reaches out and pats my head, calming down all my nerves. . . Since when did his presence become comfortable? Like . . . family.

Now I feel even more ashamed at my actions. Merlin, I don't know how to face him anymore. I guess he noticed this by how declined the angle of my head was.

"Hey, look at me."

A gentle hand c.a.r.e.s.sed the back of my head, giving me the courage I needed to face him.

"I wasn't hurt at all! The only thing I felt was a tickle. And maybe an itch, but that's all. "

". . . It's not that convincing with how pale you look."

"I'm always pale, too many hangovers. But that doesn't matter. What matters is why you'd think I'd stop being your father."

"Well. . . It's not like you adopted me of your own will."

"And why do you say that?"

I look into his eyes to find some reassurance. That he won't hate me after learning what I did to him.

"The truth is. I'm a wizard. When I was a baby, I cast a spell on you which made you adopt me. I saw it when looking through your memories, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked. What I did was illegal and intruded on your privacy."

I had long looked down, but I could definitely feel his disbelieving amused grin growing, like an obtrusive aura that won't leave you alone. Annoying.

"Even if that were true, and I'm not saying it is. You are still my son. You have been my son for 7 years, and you are my son now. You're also a much better person than you think you are."

"I couldn't possibly be! I mean- I wasn't able to find you when you went missing, not to mention that I almost KILLED you!"

"But you did find me. And you could never kill me. I might not live for as long as you want me to, but I promise you that I will live for as long as you need me to. I could never ask for a son greater that you. You're brave, smart, kind, and stronger than I could ever be."

"I'm not what you think I am."

"I've watched you grow up Tom. And what you did these past few days could earn you a medal from the president!"

"You're wrong. I'm not brave, I only tried to find you because I was scared!"

"But you ran. Everyone feels fear, but it is only the strong ones who could face that fear and you faced it way better than anyone could, definitely. You don't know how proud of you I am right now. Though I am also disappointed at your lack of self-regard by running out of the hospital to find me, I am also proud that my son would go through such length for me which many others can't say the same."

I could feel my cheeks burning up and my vision blurring from his blind faith in me. Just shut up already stupid old man!

"That wasn't the first time either. You saved me countless times. I can't even count how many times I almost lost to life and to alcohol, but you saved me. By greeting me with your smile or with a tiny wave of your hand every time I returned home. By encouraging me with the wonder and excitement that shines in your eyes every time you snuck into my work-lab- tinkering with my work thinking I'd never notice."

At this his grin grows wider with delight at the blush that was annoyingly rising up my cheeks.

"You saved me by being my son. The media says that I gave you a life, but the truth is you gave me mine. I need you, Tom, so can you forgive this foolish father of yours? Can you let me be your father for as long as I want?"

". . . How long is that?"

He smirks that stupid knowing smirk of his as though he can see right through me and knows exactly which buttons to push or not. . . I want to punch it.

"For a quintillion years." [2]

He breaks out into a full-blown smile, and I couldn't help but smile as well. A quintillion? I think I can live with that.

"Now come here, son."

"You. . . Forgive me? For distrusting you? And for almost killing you?"

"That's my job, son. As long as you forgive me for making you distrust me, and for almost killing you."

I nod my head and let myself fall into his hug, immersing myself in his warmth. Warmth, which erased all the emptiness I previously felt.

"That's my job, dad."

He squeezes me tight, making it hard to breathe.

"I- I can't breathe."

"Oops. Sorry son."

He loosens his hold by the slightest margin. Just barely enough for me to breathe and I immerse myself into his hug, this time comfortably. Should anyone ask if this moment happened, I shall firmly refute them.

"Now . . . What was that about magic?"

I want to tell him everything, but where do I even start? _

"Before that, the medi-witch said that you should both eat something light then go to bed."

I turn my head (still couldn't escape my father's hold) and see a familiar head of messy hair.

"Potter?!"

Ugh! I almost forgot. Dad's here. I can't believe I lowered my guard enough to forget to use proper titles.

". I mean. . . Mr. Potter. I thought you had gone home?"

I had motioned to him with my eyes in an attempt to mitigate the situation outside before he starts talking magic to my dad, but his stern stare put down all hopes of him letting me off easy. I guess I did something more serious than I initially thought. . . But I only used. . . Wasn't Legilimency. . . . . Illegal? . . . SHOOT! Legilimency is illegal! Holy Mother of Merlin. Did they find out?! But how could that be? I didn't use a wand! Are they taking me to Azkaban? But no, that's in Britain. Will they b-bring me to American Azkaban? This can't be?! I only just regained family! I haven't even done anything to stop the Dark Lord!

"Yes, well, I didn't mean to interrupt but there is something of importance Mr. Stark and I have to discuss while he is still conscious. Tom, if you would?"

". . . Understood, will it take long?"

"Not long."

I guess by 'not long' he means 'By the time we finish talking, you should be waiting outside. So don't get any funny ideas and try to escape.'

"Very well. I'll return. . . Father. I'll also ask the mediw- or. . nurse to bring us something light."

I swiftly left the room and closed the door with a single movement while imitating a model student to remove any doubts on my discipline. But as expected of an Auror, before my ear even met the door, I could hear an undefinable buzzing sound. tsk. Muffliato. A blessing or a curse? One would never know.

.

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Tony P.O.V.

From how my son talked to this man, is seems like he has known him for a long time. Which is strange since he has never gone out of the house before. They also share a lingo I have never heard of. Even stranger, is when 'Potter' had waved a stick at the door as soon as my son left the room.

At this point I'm starting to doubt if this is yet another one of my drunk dreams, and I had accidentally sniffed a joint somewhere between drinking and sleeping. But I could swear I hadn't had a drink in a couple months and have not touched a drug in 6 years! . . Only some painkillers here and there. And some sleeping pills as well. . . But I've cut down on alcohol since Tom turned 7, and it was because of a social thing- I didn't even finish the glass!

"As you know Mr. Stark."

"Tony, Mr. Stark is my father."

"Yes. Tony. Tom is a very. . . Special child."

"Special you say. Though he thinks a little differently than other kids his age, he is by no means a special child."

"Ah. . ahem. my apologies. By special I didnt mean. . . mentally handicapped. I meant that he is very "special.""

"My Tom is a normal kid. I also created my first Nuclear Reator blueprint when I was his age. Being a genius doesnt mean he ceases to be normal. If you are trying to make him join whatever special group you are trying to make while under the pretence of 'protecting' him, I will make you wish you never tried."

". . . We know that Tony, I think you may be confusing us for another "group." But rest assured that we are not who you are thinking of. However, you can't deny that you have seen him do things, almost impossible to be real."

My eyes can't help but widen as flashbacks of what happened at our house flooded my mind.

". . . Who are you?"

I fixed my gaze on his eyes, ready to spot any deception. But he seemed as honest and pure as Thor. . . Either he's a Thor, or the worst kind of criminal there is.

"Be assured that we are friends, not foes."

"Alright then, what is he. And what is your relation to him? You seem to be quite familiar with my son, but I dont recognize you."

"I have had an encounter with him before. The reason is, Tom is a wizard and so am I."

". . . A wizard. With wands, flying broomsticks, green skin, and atrocious laughter?"

"Well. . . Yes and yes, then no. We wield the magic we are born with using wands as a medium, green skin and atrocious laughter is merely a preference."

"I don't believe it."

"As do most, until they finally see."

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Tom/Draco P.O.V.

Potter's probably explaining the existence of the wizarding society, and is now informing him about his new obligations as the father of one such member of the society.

He'll probably want to hush up what happened as much as possible too.

Wait. . . I could definitely make use of this situation! Heavy planning and deception is needed, but I think I can do it.

This could be my ticket. This situation might never happen again so I can't hesitate. I just hope no one ever finds out about what I'm about to do.

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Sometime after returning with some apples, two of which have already entered my stomach, I had unknowingly fallen asleep on the Hospital's bench. The next morning I had woken in a familiar room. Seeing the same Victorian style bed sheets next to old wooden carved bed posts, and feeling the same ice cold marble floor freeze my feet as I get up from bed during the morning was certainly different than experiencing it at 3 in the morning. The room was much cozier than I remembered.

I never expected to be back here again. At least not so soon. I remember Potter telling me that he and 'other people' will be asking me some questions in the morning, as well as to not escape because there were werewolves with counter-measures. . . I think. . . I can't remember, the few glimpses of memories the happened while gaining and loosing consciousness throughout the night were not all that reliable.

After freshening up (spending more time in the shower than I had planned) and donning a new attire that Potter's house elf must have prepared. What was his name again? Buckbean? Barley? Buckwheat? I went down to get a light breakfast and indeed, my memory of Potter's statement was on point. . . At least the first half was. A stern looking auror had come, and by badges pinned on his clothes, he seems to be part of some sort of intelligence and interrogation department.

"Let's cut the formalities. You performed an illegal type of magic. Where and who did you learn it from? Don't lie to me since if I catch you even once, I will have no choice but to use our own method of making sure you can't lie again."

So basically you won't give me veratiserum until I prove myself a terrible liar. . . Deal!

I looked at his eyes, and gulped nonexistent saliva. Almost automatically I saw his eyes turn gentler, until a second later- he clenched his fist even tighter than it was before; must be a newbie. Looks like they're going easy on me since I'm just a kid. Nice.

But I can't seem too fake, or I'll definitely get caught.

"I- I don't know sir. I just got angry since my father kept lying to me and wanted him to stop lying. Before I knew it I could see his memories. Then when I tried to back out, I realised that I had hurt him. I didn't mean to! I thought he was okay. Did I actually hurt him really badly?"

The Auror's conviction obviously shook from the wavering/contemplative look in his eyes. He must think everything I did was accidental magic by now. Well, it's not completely wrong.

"No. No. Your father's fine. But do you really not know what you did?"

I slowly shook my head, as though ashamed at what I had done. . . Well. . . I really am ashamed at what I had done. . .

He sighed defeated, but his eyes strengthened once more.

"What else can you do?"

I guess he's testing me now if I'm telling the truth. By the looks of it, they already know what I can do, but not how much I know. Alright. Let's use 'I can do magic and am aware of it, but I don't know how!'

I stayed silent for a few seconds, creating the perfect mood for a troubled yet 'I'm ready to fight back if you try anything funny' pre-teen!

". . . I can move things without touching them. I could make people do what I want without telling them. I could make bad things happen to people who deserve it."

I could hear him take in a sharp breath, shocked at what I told him. But why? I only described wingardium leviosa, compulsion charms and harmless jinxes. Like most kids usually do as accidental magic. . . Does he not believe me? I strengthen my gaze, showing him that I know what I can do, and I'm not just some delusional kid.

"I could make them hurt for messing with me, or what's mine. Could you do that too?"

So you better not try anything foolish! . . . Why do I feel like I've heard those words somewhere before? [3]

*gulp* . . . he gulped? Did I say too much?

". . .You can't keep using it anymore. As you know, we wizards keep ourselves a secret from the world."

"I shouldn't use magic anymore?"

But wouldn't suppressing my magic turn me into an obscurial?

"No. You can still use magic but not outside of wizarding boundaries. We can have someone pick you up at least once every two weeks to teach you the basics on controlling and safely letting out your power. Don't expect much though since formal lessons usually start when the child is 11, not 7."

"Oh.. ."

"You have to promise not to use magic outside anymore. Okay?"

"Okay. I promise. But may I go more often? There's almost nothing to do at home when dad's not around."

". . . I guess we can organize it. How often do you want?"

Looks like the bargaining starts now. Guess I'll max it out to see how far they'll go. But I also wouldn't want to be stuck under surveillance 7 days a week.

"5 days a week!"

"3."

"Deal!"

I shook his hand preventing him from taking back his words. His darkened forehead loudly expresses his dismay at having to find me a teacher who will teach me 3 days a week.

"Monday, Wednesday, Friday."

"Don't push it kid. I'll have to speak with headquarters to find someone available. You're stuck with whatever schedule that person has."

I showed a mildly irritated/disappointed face.

"Alright. But no Sundays."

Sunday is family day and that's the only day I'm sure father is free. He needs to teach me about nuclear chemistry! If there's a way to generate raw magic by having it create itself, then it would be a huge boon that would solve all problems of running out of energy while casting wards, creating blast-nuggats (crystal balls with 'Bombarda maxima' spell cast into it using runes.), and other such war-necessary items.

.

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John's P.O.V. (That interrogation auror, but don't worry. He will only be mentioned and most likely never appear again. . . maybe.)

No child has ever been that aware of what they can do. Accidental magic happens spontaneously, most of the time without the child knowing they're the ones who did it. But he knows what he can do. And he even controls it consciously. He knows his power, and he uses it to his will. But the creepiest thing about this kid is his possessiveness and his d.e.s.i.r.e for dominance. How is he already threatening me to not mess with him at his age?

Just talking to him makes chills run up and down my spine. This kid is definitely not normal. There's a dangerous aura surrounding him. There's also the situation he apparently caused not even a month ago. Using magic out in the open in front of No-majs! Sooner or later he'll reveal us all. I'm surprised he has stayed hidden this long.

His rapid shift in personalities also caught me off guard (From an innocent, confident, and mischievous child to an emo, psycho-serial killer in the making.) Bi-polar disorder?

The more I think about this kid. The more my head hurts.

"Potter. There's something wrong with this kid. It's not good to have him watched by millions of No-majs. He is far too aware of his own powers. His father is also far too familiar with SHIELD to keep him hidden from them. I'm sure you know this but the only thing SHIELD knows are the level 13 files entrusted by the Government. We need to keep it that way so we need to make him invisible, now!

"Do you mean he has to stay in the wizarding world?"

Samuel seems exited yet concerned about the though of the boy staying here, in wizarding community. Probably thinks he'll stay with him. . . Well, he isn't wrong. He's the best candidate since the boy is already familiar with him, but he's not staying here.

"No. I'd have him stay with a wizard if it were only up to me, but we can't legally separate a child from his parents. Tell his father that he needs to stay somewhere remote. And tell him we're putting up wards no questions asked."

"But what if he refuses. You know 'Iron man' isn't the type to silently follow other's words."

"Then tell him he needs to protect his son unless he wants SHIELD to use him as a weapon!"

". . . Alright, chief."

*sigh* This child is giving me more headaches than my wife, and I only met him once! I glanced sideways at my desk where blank papers lay untouched.

Filing paperwork is the worst part of being an auror. No one ever signs up to be an auror just to sign more paperwork! I was a fool. I should have just pursued Herbology instead and inherited my dad's green-house.

________

[1] hahaha this is a Puppet Snape easter egg, due to the excessive melodrama of Slytherins. "Button oh button. Oh where hath thou fled?" ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ ) wu wu wu~ (crying sounds)/

[2] Exayear (Eyr): A billion, billion years. 1x10^18 years or 1,000,000,000,000,000,000 years. Or in layman's terms, a quintillion years. /

[3] For those who want an explanation. It might be mentioned in the future or not, but remember that drop of Potter blood Draco used as substitution for the spell in the first few chapters? Well, that along with the other ingredients had fused Harry's blood into his own. The Phoenix blood was supposed to be used to re-create life. And indeed there was Phoenix blood which wasn't strong enough to recreate his life, but merged it with his previous (baby) one. You know how much importance wizards place on blood power? Yeah, I wanted to use that.

Potter's blood made him have some subconscious memories from Harry. Not anything big, but stuff like feeling a little more amicable to the Gryffindors, have a little more doubt on the way his Godfather, Severus, acts. But this wont affect the fact that he still idolizes Snape very much, and wishes the Gryffindor Quidditch team will break their bones and fall sick during a match. This doesn't affect his pride and lower self-esteem, though. Those are because of his experiences of falling to the bottom of the food-chain with everyone hating on him, including himself for his bad choices during the second wizarding war against Voldemort. So yeah SUBCONSCIOUS MEMORIES!)