Faultlines

Drawing Room Talk

Drawing Room Talk

Three quarters of the Stark family spend the summer Harry was turning eleven in Washington DC. Harry's dad was working on something. That was all the information he would give and both Harry and his Mom were too used to his behaviour to really care. Dad got like that sometimes. And then he forgot everything around him. Much like Tony, but Harry would never dare to tell his big brother that. Dad and Tony fought often these days and Harry was certain that most of the time they didn't even know what about anymore. Yes, Dad worked a lot. Yes, Dad forgot school plays. But he was busy, Harry knew that. And if he had time for his sons, then he really was there. But that never seemed enough for Tony. Mom always got sad, when they fought. Once, only once, had she told Harry: "Don't judge your brother. He is not angry, he is hurt. Dad had a lot less time and patience for Tony, when he was small, than he had for you. I think he regrets that he missed so much with Tony and tried to do better with you. One day Tony will see that it shows how much Dad loves you both."

His Mom always answered his questions like that. Not sugarcoating their strange, often difficult family. They weren't perfect, none of them were. And Harry loved her for not pretending otherwise.

Now Harry and his mom were sitting in her dressing room. Harry's parents were supposed to go to a charity gala together (his Dad hadn't come back home yet, but his Mom wasn't going to skip out). Harry often joined his mother when she got ready. It was their time together, mostly spend talking. Today Harry was sitting on the cushioned windowsill, reading out loud, while his Mom did her hair. They were reading 'The Hobbit' again.

"Your father called earlier.", his mother carefully interrupted Harry, when he had just finished a chapter, "We have an appointment tomorrow at 2 pm. All of us."

"What kind of appointment?", Harry asked, expecting another charity event or publicity for SI.

"A Professor from a school called Ilvermorny got in touch earlier today."

"I won't be going to school in New York anymore?", Harry stared at his mother in horror, "You want to send me away?!"

"Of course not, Baby, that is not what this is. She got in touch, as I told you, and made an appointment. She said it was about your very future."

An idea was beginning to form.

"Oh... you think it's. .. about what happens when I am angry sometimes?"

"It might be.", his Mom gave him a reassuring smile, "Especially since she managed to call your father on a disconnected payphone as he was walking down the road."

Harry gaped at her.

"Will Dad be there?", he hated how weak and scared his voice sounded.

"I know he will try."

She didn't lie and say "of course" or "sure" and Harry loved her even more for it. You did not promise things when it came to Howard Stark.

"Mom...", Harry stopped, biting his lip nervously, "What do you think is wrong with me?"

His mother put her curling iron down in shock and turned around to look at him.

"Wrong?", her eyes were open wide in horror, "What would ever make you think there was anything WRONG with you?"

Silence.

"Normal kids don't explode things. Or make them fly or..."

"Harry. Harry, look at me. Yes, you can do these things. So? Tony does it, too. All the time. He blows things up, even if he doesn't want to. So does your father, come to think of it. They use their brains and their hands for it. I don't know what to call what you use, but to me it makes no difference. Energy channeling... magic... what does it matter? At the end of the day I am still stuck with three extraordinary men blowing up my home."

Harry couldn't help it: he laughed between the tears that had formed in his eyes.

"What's so great about being normal anyway?", he asked, grinning and forcefully brushing the tears away.

"As the only normal one in this family, I can tell you that it is occasionally very hard."

"You are not normal, Mom.", Harry told her firmly.

"Oh honey, I am. But that's totally okay. There is nothing wrong with being either normal or not. We are all amazing.", she opened her arms and Harry hurried over. He didn't care, if he was too old or not, he carefully set down on her lap, as his Mom hugged him close.

"Don't ever think we don't want you, don't ever think we don't love you. You are my son, no matter what will happen or not. Don't you ever dare think anything else."

"Now really, what is going on here?", Howard had entered the dressing room, his suit meticulously styled. It looked like he had come home without them even hearing him and had gotten dressed next door.

"Howard, dear, I was just telling Harry about that Professor coming to see him tomorrow."

"And that is a reason to cry now?"

"No.", Maria rolled her eyes, "I was assuring Harry that he doesn't have to go anywhere, if he doesn't want to."

"Of course not. What sort of stupidity is this?"

"Howard..."

"Harry, stop being ridiculous. That idea is too stupid. I don't tolerate stupidity in this house."

"Howard!", his Mom shouted angrily, but Harry didn't care. He jumped up and forcefully hugged his Dad. It took a moment before his father returned the hug, but then he was holding on just as tightly.

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Buddy. Now run off and let your Mom and I get ready."

Harry grinned at his father, still teary-eyed, before running towards his room. He needed to make a list with all the questions he needed to ask.