Chapter Text
Tony Stark said he wasn't nervous the first time he boarded the Hogwarts Express. He was lying.
His parents had, for once, come to see him off in person. Tony was still surprised his father had been there, but then he thought on the many cameras around, and wondered how many front pages they would grace the next day, especially if his sorting leaked. It was good publicity.
Still, the eleven year-old genius stood with a straight back and no tears in his eyes as he let his mother hug him, dabbing at her own cheeks with a handkerchief. "Remember, Anthony; no matter what house you're sorted into, we'll both love you just the same as we do now," she assured him, kissing his forehead. Tony stifled a small smile; he knew that wasn't true. If he were in Hufflepuff, his dad would probably disown him, and Gryffindor didn't bear thinking about. The only acceptable houses in his father's eyes were Ravenclaw and Slytherin.
"I need to go, Mom, the train's about to leave," he urged, tugging himself out of her embrace. His father clapped him on the shoulder with one hand, gently cuffing him around the head with the other as he crouched to Tony's eye-level.
"Do us proud, kiddo. And remember what we talked about," Howard Stark instructed, a smile on his face. Tony nodded sharply; no causing trouble, no disgracing the family name, no sub-standard grades. He could only promise the last one, and they both knew it.
"I'll see you at Christmas," Tony replied, consenting to a stiff hug with the greying man. The Hogwarts Express began to spew smoke from the chimney, and Tony grabbed the handle of his trunk, dragging it towards the nearest open door. Hoisting it onto the train by himself, he glanced back at his parents for the barest moment before shutting the door behind him, wandering down the train. Most of the compartments seemed to house older kids, though Tony grinned to himself when he saw one with a single boy inside, looking about his age. He had messy dark hair, and had his nose buried in a book about magical theory. Tony's kind of guy. Nudging the compartment door open, Tony offered an easy grin to the other boy. "Hey, mind if I join you?" he asked, not waiting for an answer before heaving his trunk onto the luggage rack.
"I, uh, actually prefer being alone," the boy replied softly, his voice still polite even though he was clearly telling Tony to leave. Tony didn't let that deter him, grinning wider.
"That's only because you've never had the pleasure of my company before," he assured, dropping into the seat opposite the boy. The purple sweater he was wearing was somewhat threadbare, and there was a small hole in the knee of his jeans; a definite contrast to Tony's designer jeans and tight-fitting t-shirt with an expensive leather jacket over the top. "Tony Stark," he introduced, holding out a hand. The boy blinked, surprised.
"You developed the Stark Theorem of Magical Engineering," he declared, making Tony practically beam. Such a refreshing response from the usual 'you're Howard Stark's kid'.
"Yes, yes I did. You know my theorem, you're my new best friend, okay?" Tony told the scruffy boy. Very few people knew the Stark Theorem, and even fewer knew that it was actually Tony's and not Howard's. Tony had been seven, and purposefully ignorant of the 'limits of magic'. His theorem had allowed Stark Industries to progress in their search to combine magic and technology, though since Howard had developed the actual spell series, he'd gotten all the credit.
"I… I think I'd like that. Bruce Banner," the scruffy boy finally said, shaking Tony's hand. Tony smiled at Bruce, who smiled back tentatively.
"So, I'm assuming you're aiming for Ravenclaw?" he queried, and Bruce nodded.
"That's the plan," he confirmed with a somewhat shaky smile, as if he were concerned about how likely his plan would be to work. "How about you?"
"Ravenclaw is most likely, but Slytherin wouldn't surprise me. So long as I'm not a Hufflepuff," he added with an exaggerated shudder, making Bruce shoot him a look.
"Hey, Hufflepuffs aren't all bad. My dad was a Hufflepuff," he defended. Tony shrugged, rifling through his satchel until he found what he was looking for.
"Whatever, man. Blueberry?" He held out the bag of dried fruit out to Bruce, who hesitated before taking one, making Tony smile. That was definitely going to be the start of a beautiful friendship, Tony was sure of it.
.-.-.
He and Bruce were left fairly well alone during their trip, though Tony went a little overboard when the trolley came by selling sweets and snacks. He insisted on buying enough for Bruce too, despite the other boy's protests, and they spent the companionable ride discussing magical theory and quidditch, once Tony found out Bruce was a fellow Tornadoes fan. The conversation only halted when they drew closer to Hogwarts, and Bruce insisted on going to change in the bathrooms. Tony, never one to be body shy, had started stripping off in the middle of the compartment, and promised he wouldn't peek, but Bruce still left. Tony merely figured he was self-conscious.
Both boys were practically bouncing with excitement when the train pulled into Hogsmeade station, and Tony stopped Bruce with a hand on his shoulder before they left the compartment. "Hey, promise me; no matter where we're sorted, we're still friends. Even if you're a Hufflepuff," he added with a teasing grin, holding out an expectant fist. Somewhat bemused, Bruce obligingly fist-bumped him, nodding.
"Friends no matter what," he agreed, and with that settled, they both joined the flood of students leaving the train. First years were easy to find, being the only students without house colours on their robes, and Tony and Bruce made their way over to the gathering of their yearmates near the huge man that Tony knew to be Dugan, the gamekeeper.
"First years, follow me!" the man called, lantern swinging over their heads as he counted them. When they were all there, the group followed Dugan towards the edge of the lake, and Tony resisted the urge to grab Bruce's hand, his stomach squirming nervously. His new friend had gone chalk-white, and Tony could see several other anxious-looking faces around him. At least he wasn't the only one. Tony grimaced when he saw a fleet of small boats waiting for them at the water's edge; he hated sailing. He had done ever since he'd fallen out of the family yacht aged nine, and no one had noticed for a whole twenty minutes. "Alright, hurry up! Four to a boat, quick now!" Dugan urged, and Tony immediately looked towards Bruce, both with the same expression on their faces; we're sharing a boat
They ended up in a boat with a friendly-looking dark-haired girl and a boy who introduced himself as Phil Coulson almost as soon as they stepped into the boat, shaking both their hands furiously. Tony immediately didn't like him. The girl merely gave her name as Jane, staying fairly quiet through the ride, too busy looking at the scenery. "We should be coming up to see the castle soon," Coulson told them. "Hogwarts: A History says that the first years are kept separate from the rest of the school before the sorting ceremony, but doesn't explain what the ceremony is. No one I've asked does either; I wonder what kind of test it is. It has to be pretty thorough to accurately gage personality enough to sort people into the four houses."
"Hey, Coulson?" Tony said cheerily, drawing the other boy's attention.
"Yes?"
"Shut up." Even Jane giggled at his words, and Bruce snorted despite his reproving look. Coulson looked as though the wind had been blown from his sails, but obediently quieted. Maybe he wasn't so bad. Tony's breath caught in his throat as he got his first glimpse of Hogwarts castle. He'd seen it in photos, but that didn't compare to the beauty of the building in person, and a glance to his side showed Bruce in an equal state of amazement.
They all bundled together once more when they got out of the boats, and Dugan led them up to the huge oak front doors. One of them was open, and Tony recognised Professor Selvig stood waiting for them; the man had worked with his father in the past, and Tony had met him a couple of times. "I'll take them from here, Dugan," he declared, the slight hint of a Nordic accent to his words. Dugan nodded, slipping past the deputy headmaster and into the castle, and Selvig surveyed them flatly. "Follow me," he said curtly, turning on his heel and leading them inside. Tony tried not to gawp at the inside of the castle as he entered, concentrating on following the professor and keeping by Bruce's side. They were led into a small side-chamber, and he could vaguely hear the chatter from what must be the Great Hall. "Line up and make yourselves presentable," Selvig instructed, arms folded over his chest. There was a flurry of activity as they all shuffled into line, Tony stood between Bruce and Coulson, who was checking his hair in a pocket mirror. Who the hell carried around a pocket mirror?
Selvig adjusted the cloak of a tall boy with long blonde hair with a disapproving frown, but seemed satisfied with the rest of them, then carried on back to the front of the line. "This way, students," he called, leading them towards the now-open door to the main hall. Tony took a deep breath, offering Bruce a shaky grin.
"Ravenclaw, here we come," he muttered under his breath, sounding more confident than he felt. Walking in line, he drew on every ounce of confidence he'd gained from growing up under public scrutiny, giving his best careless grin and strutting walk as he followed the other first years onto the raised area of the hall in front of the teachers' table. There was a ragged old hat perched on a three-legged stool, and Tony was confused. What the hell was that about?
It all became clear once they were stood in line, and a rip in the brim of the hat opened. Then it started singing. Tony worried that he'd inhaled a few too many chemical fumes the night before, but a glance either side confirmed that he was definitely not the only one hearing the hat sing. Well, magic had done weirder things. When the hat finally shut up, Selvig pulled a scroll of parchment from his sleeve, unrolling it. "When I call your name, sit on the stool and try on the hat," he announced, eyes fixed on their little gathering. Tony had counted, and there were twenty-six first years including himself. "Adams, Michael." A nervous-looking fair-haired boy edged towards the stool, tentatively placing the hat on his head. There was a long moment of silence, and then Tony jumped as the hat barked out 'HUFFLEPUFF!' for the whole hall to hear. The yellow-clad table of students burst into applause, and Michael Adams grinned, placing the hat back on the stool and going to join his new housemates, his robes and tie turning yellow and black as he walked, the Hufflepuff crest appearing on his chest. "Banner, Bruce!" Tony gulped, giving the other boy's hand a quick squeeze hidden behind the folds of their robes before letting him walk forward.
"Please be Ravenclaw," he muttered to himself, barely audible. His face split into a wide grin as the hat shouted 'RAVENCLAW!' almost as soon as it touched Bruce's head, and as blue and bronze appeared on his robes and tie, Tony could see the other boy's relieved smile upon joining the Ravenclaw table. Now all he had to do was get in the same house as his new friend.
Tony wasn't surprised when Coulson made Hufflepuff. At all. He didn't pay much attention to everyone else, too busy wondering what it was about the hat that made it able to judge personality, but he did concentrate enough to find out that Jane's last name was Foster, and she was joining Bruce in Ravenclaw. Yeah, Tony liked her already. The tall blonde boy turned out to be called Thor Odinson, and he let out a loud cheer when he was sorted into Gryffindor. Again, Tony wasn't surprised. Finally, however, Selvig called out "Stark, Anthony," and Tony stepped forward, trying not to visibly wince at the round of whispers his name threw up around the hall. Of course everyone would know who he was; he'd been on the cover of Witch Weekly barely six months ago. He was quite possibly the most famous eleven year-old in the wizarding world.
Sitting on the rickety stool, he set the hat on his head, jolting when he heard a voice. 'Hmm, another Stark, eh?' the hat murmured, sounding intrigued. 'Very busy mind you've got going on here, lad. And I can tell you now, trying to steal Headmaster Fury's glass eye won't work. It's warded beyond even your skills.' Tony resisted the urge to curse; there went his plans. He'd have to re-think a few things, and figure out what wards there were on that eye. 'You're rather like your father, yes, but… smarter, no doubt. Less driven, too, and that's definitely not a bad thing. Only one place for you, boy.' Tony crossed his fingers in his pockets, and couldn't stop the grin on his lips when he heard the hat shout 'RAVENCLAW!' to the hall. His eyes immediately met Bruce's, and he beamed when he saw the other boy applauding wildly. Setting the hat back on the stool, Tony watched his uniform change colour as he joined the cheering Ravenclaw table, several of them exclaiming how they'd surely win the house cup now with him joining them. Tony snorted to himself; they obviously didn't know of his reputation.
He slid onto the bench beside Bruce, clapping the other boy on the back. "Looks like we both ended up where we wanted," he pointed out, smiling widely. Bruce grinned back, nodding.
"I… I'm still in shock," he admitted, making Tony laugh.
"Give it a little while, we'll get some food in you. That'll make everything better," he remarked, twisting around to watch the rest of the sorting. There weren't many people after him, and Selvig took the hat and stool away when everyone had been sorted. By Tony's count, eight Gryffindors, five Slytherins, six Hufflepuffs and seven Ravenclaws. Not a bad mix, in all. The sheer number of Gryffindors was a little disappointing, but he couldn't complain. The hall went silent as Headmaster Fury stood, staring them all down through his one eye, his magical eye rolled far back into his head. That was cool and creepy at the same time.
"Twenty-six new brats to add to the tally," he declared, sounding unimpressed. "If any of you damage my school, you'll be in detention until your grandchildren arrive here. Now eat, and get to bed early. It's a long day tomorrow." With that, he sat down, and Tony barely had time to blink before the tables were covered in food.
"Is that it?" he asked Bruce, who shrugged.
"Short and sweet, and got the point across. I can't say I'm complaining; I'm starved," he admitted, already reaching for a large dish of vegetables, spooning a small mound onto his plate. Tony balked at the sheer amount of green and healthy on one plate, immediately filling his own with as many different kind of meat as he could reach. Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes, then spooned some green beans onto Tony's plate. "Eat your vegetables," he instructed, making Tony snort.
"What are you, my mother?" he asked wryly, though he let the green beans stay, and even added some carrots to the plate as well. He actually ate them, too, under Bruce's watchful eye. He was very glad at his new friend's foresight to sit at the end of the Ravenclaw table; it meant there were less people within reach to ask him about what it was like being Howard Stark's son. He hated that question.
Bruce had a hard time keeping Tony from inhaling twice his body weight in sugar when the desserts came, though the young genius did a valiant job of hogging most of the ice cream and chocolate cake. Bruce himself had a small slice of apple pie, and Tony graciously donated some of his ice cream hoard to his friend. "How can you even eat that much?" Bruce asked, shaking his head in exasperation. "By all rights you should weigh a ton!"
"Thinking burns calories," Tony pointed out. "And if there's one thing I'm good at, it's thinking. Hell, I can't wait to see what the potions lab set-up is like round here. I was halfway through a project before I came here and I really want to finish it." Bruce eyed him for a long moment, then sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.
"Need a brewing partner?" he asked, somewhat resigned. Tony grinned, spooning yet more ice cream and pie onto his friend's plate. Bruce could do with the calories; he was scrawny as hell.
"I like you. You can stay," he declared firmly, making Bruce chuckle.
"I'm so glad I have your approval." Not protesting at the extra dessert, Bruce started on the second helping Tony had given him, and the young Stark heir smiled to himself, making progress through his small mountain of ice cream. Maybe Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad after all.