I found daddy, but I hurt him! I

(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 mature, 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 caressed 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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[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. /