chapter 13

It was eerily quiet in Tony's house as Harry wandered through and stared outside into the evening sky through the vast windows. It was getting late, but he had no desire to sleep. After the whirlwind that his day was, including his meeting with Fury, he couldn't help but reconsider his choices, wondering if his decision was really the right one. Once more he'd managed to get himself employed by an organization that didn't care much for the boundaries of law, as long as the job got done.

Twirling his wand distractedly, he wondered what he'd do now. He might be called by S.H.I.E.L.D. at some point, but that would hardly make a steady job to get a reliable income, which he'd have to arrange at some point. Of course, working with anything too public would be an issue anyway; the army was after his hide, probably for similar reasons as S.H.I.E.L.D. had been, and it was unlikely this would get him on the good side of prospective employers. Staying in Tony's place was easy, and he doubted the man would really force him to leave. He wasn't a nuisance, and the house was plenty huge enough for some more people – but he did feel like a freeloader.

Tony was down in his basement, which was no surprise. He'd been spending a lot of his 'alone time' down there, and had spent more than one night sleeping on the couch, snoring loudly. Harry suspected that hiding out down there was the man's version of privacy. It was strange in a way - he was living pretty much as he was used to, with only one or two people really even knowing him. Well, there was Natasha, but they hadn't seen each other in a while, now. Perhaps that would change soon, with the new arrangement with S.H.I.E.L.D. Honestly both Tony and Bruce reminded him a little of Hermione - incredibly smart, analytical, and sharp. Of course, the kind of rapier wit that Tony in particular exemplified didn't match that mental image at all.

New friends - that's maybe what they were, even though he only knew them since so very recently. He felt vaguely uncomfortable about the whole concept given what happened back home, but they could take care of themselves, like Hermione and Ron were, he was certain. Perhaps - perhaps this was how he'd find a place in the world, again. A place among other unique, somewhat weird people. He shook his head, smiling vaguely at the idea.

There was a sudden thud under his feet, and he sprang up, hair rising on the back of his neck. "Jarvis… what was that?"

"Mr. Stark appears to be engaging in an unplanned test of the lighting fixtures, sir. Please do not worry."

Harry frowned as another thud blasted through the house, and he heard the tinkling sound of breaking glass. "And that?"

"…Analysing the fracture strength of windows?"

Harry had made it down the stairs just after a third and fourth blasted through the hall. There were no windows left in the hall, and there were several singed sections of wall that he could see. "Tony, what the hell are you doing?"

Tony stood there, fuming, one arm raised in his direction. It was covered in some kind of red-and-gold machine; it was like a glove, except metal, and within its palm shone a small circle very reminiscent of the arc reactor. For a moment it looked like he was going to fire again; then he lowered the device and slumped down on his bench. "Harry. Thought I told you the basement was off-limits to technophobes?" His usually jovial tone was absent.

"You were making a lot of noise," Harry answered carefully. "Mind telling me why you were blowing up your own home like this? Not that you're not welcome to do it, it is your place, but..."

"I needed to blow off some steam, that's all." Tony looked down at the device on his arm, frowning. "Forgot I wasn't alone around here."

"…If I can help, just tell me," Harry said softly.

Tony looked at Harry for a long moment. "Harry…" He sighed. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think this is something I have to do alone."

Harry nodded uncertainly, glancing at the TV. He recognized images from Afghanistan, villages under the control of terrorists, great stockpiles of weapons and missiles. He looked back at Tony's grimace. "I take it you're going back there, then?"

Tony didn't seem surprised by his conclusion. "Those weapons you see there on the TV? They're Stark weapons, and my company sold it to them. My company!" he ran a hand through his hair. "Obadiah has been trying to get me removed as CEO, and now I find out he's been dealing under the table with the worst of scum. The very people that kidnapped me in the first place. I can't let that kind of thing stand."

"So what, you're going to tell them off?" Harry said with a scoff. "Don't be an idiot, Tony. As I recall you have two powerful wrecking balls in this very house. I can't speak for Bruce, but I'd be willing to help you reclaim or blow up the damn things if you wanted to."

Tony smirked viciously. "Three." At Harry's confused look he gestured to the back of the basement. "Three wrecking balls. Come."

Bruce started awake as the walls trembled. He was up and clothed within the minute when a second and third thud resounded from below, and for a brief moment he feared the army had already found him. When nothing of the sort seemed evident, he relaxed.

Bruce left his room and thought of that afternoon. Meeting Tony Stark had been different than he expected. Tony, it turned out, was as aggravating as he was amusing; the man had an ego the size of the planet Jupiter and a childish streak a mile wide, but he was also oddly respectful of him. Perhaps it was because Harry was around, but the other guy had been fairly quiet, and even Tony's needling had done little more than annoy him. It was a welcome change, and he took advantage of the calm to improve his breathing techniques, so that the next time he wouldn't need to rely on outside help.

The sounds Bruce had heard, it turned out, came from below: From the basement. He cautiously descended the stairs, glancing around the dimly lit room; there were splinters of glass everywhere, and one of the lights hung limply from the ceiling, occasionally sending out bright sparks.

"Tony? Harry?"

"Here," Tony called tiredly from the back, and Bruce quickly made his way over. He found the man staring at Harry with a pensive look. The latter was propped up against the wall with his arms crossed. "Might as well make this a show 'n tell for everyone, then."

Bruce stepped back in surprise when the floor suddenly opened up, revealing a startling array of mechanical components. Robotic instruments erupted from under the floor with various intricate fragments of some kind of mechanical device attached. There were gleaming golden surfaces and bright red metal parts, all dancing around in what seemed like a computerized ballet. Tony stepped fearlessly into the mass of whirling and whirring machines, and they suddenly arranged themselves around him – boots closed around his calves as robotic arms placed red and gold components around his limbs before a large chest rose up and attached itself solidly to his middle. It was the most remarkable thing that Bruce had ever seen; he glanced sideways at Harry, and amended that. One of the most remarkable things. The helm snapped closed around Tony's face, and twin slits of light blinked on.

"Bloody hell," Harry whispered and Bruce agreed. Tony flexed his arms – the red and gold armour seemed light and flexible, and he turned to the other two with a very fluid movement; his boots clicked sharply against the floor.

"Meet the Mark III," Tony announced as the faceplate slid open, revealing the smirking face of Tony behind it. " It's a Fully functional gold-titanium alloy-based armour with built-in holographic technology, variable flight surfaces, and the best in repulsor technology that's available right now. My own design, actually. Pretty nifty, isn't it?"

Bruce blinked. "Wait, flight surfaces? You can fly too?" Bruce asked, sputtering, glancing between him and Harry. "Was the Law of Gravity repealed when I wasn't paying attention?"

Tony smirked. "This baby can go well beyond Mach 1, too. Don't get jealous now, I can't punch things into orbit; we all have our advantages."

"This was your secret project, then." Harry said at last, amazed. "…I'd ask you how it works, but I don't think I'd understand a word of the explanation." He stopped suddenly. "Hey, this might be a strange question – but have electronics ever gone haywire around this thing? I mean, regular electronics, not the stuff running on that arc reactor of yours?"

"No." Tony turned to him and flipped open the faceplate of his helmet. "Why would you think something like that? I imagine stuff would stop working if I fire the repulsors at it, but that's obvious."

Bruce studied the suit with a critical eye. "It certainly looks like armour, but does it stand up to a good hit? How much kinetic energy can this thing absorb?"

"Theoretically? It should be able to withstand hits from 20mm Vulcan rounds with only minor damage, if that gives you some idea. Designed it to take fall damage too, just in case – I should be able to survive, though the suit may end up ruined."

"Impressive," Bruce whispered. "Why did you make this? I thought you were done with weapons."

"It's not a weapon," Tony said. He paused. "Well - not just a weapon," he amended.

"Using a weapon to take out other weapons you made. Yeah, that sounds like your kind of thing." Harry tapped the armour with his knuckles. "You didn't just build this, did you? You designed it. That's bloody amazing."

Tony nodded, suddenly glancing upwards and frowning. "As interesting as it is to show off to you guys, you can take a closer look later. Right now, I have something important to do, and I don't need distractions."

"You're going after the terrorist group that captured you back in Afghanistan," Harry said, hesitating. Tony turned to him with sharp eyes. "Well, I could tell you to back off, but I know it wouldn't work on the likes of you." He paused, reaching into his pocket. "I could at least give you a good luck charm. Bruce will recognize it, I'm sure." He pulled out a dirty sock.

Tony stared. "…What."

"Just take it," Bruce commented tiredly. "My advice is to not think about it too hard."

Harry rolled his eyes, handing the smelly piece of clothing to Tony. "Trust me – put this somewhere on your person, and if you're in really deep shit, just say Portus. It'll take a few seconds to activate. You can think me crazy, if you like, I don't care. Just… for my peace of mind. It should work for you as well as for anyone, and your suit would be fine, I'm certain."

Tony didn't comment, stuffing the piece of clothing into his suit with some difficulty. "If you're just doing this to make fun of me, I'll warn you now: You won't like my retaliation. A lucky sock, seriously?" He closed his faceplate. "Now... I must go, my people need me! Oh, before I go, what was that password, again? Port-"

"Don't!"

"-us? Oh, crap, what…" Tony vanished in a flash. An enormous splash resounded in the distance.

Bruce sighed and shook his head. "…Well, I guess it's lucky that that word won't come up in casual conversation."

"Director, you need to see this." Coulson looked grim as he read his pad. "We were monitoring Stark's whereabouts as ordered, and we came across some unusual observations." He handed over a small pad which showed a scrolling list of data and pictures.

"Summarize it for me," Fury said shortly.

"Yes, sir. It's been determined that, as expected, the hacker that placed Harry's fake information in official files did this from Stark's house; we haven't taken any further steps, considering he's now a 'consultant'. There is more, though." He frowned, tapping the pad. "Someone got there before us. The army managed to trace a more recent alteration to public data, and it led them to Los Angeles. They know Bruce Banner is there, sir."

Fury cursed. "General Ross, I take it? I'm not surprised he kept a close eye on Banner's data, and he was probably the first to learn about the events in Brazil. Damn, is he already aware of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s involvement?"

"Unlikely, sir – the video they have retrieved from Brazil is considerably worse than our own footage, so no logos could be identified, let alone faces. That's not really the nastiest bit, though – that would be this." He tapped a button on the pad and a graph and list appeared; several lines were highlighted in red. "While tracking military activity in regards to Banner's file, we came across an unusual number of references to Harry and Stark. From there… we came across something disturbing. The army's receiving money from Mr. Stark's company as expected – but they're not the only ones."

Fury scanned the graph and narrowed his eyes. "Stark Industries has been double-dealing, if this data is correct, they've been supplying weapons to multiple sides of the same war, and they've been laundering money," Fury observed. "Who's been receiving these shipments? The army?"

"From what we can determine a great number of the weapons went to the terrorist organization known as the Ten Rings, sir. They were responsible for Mr. Stark's capture, if you recall. There's also a second large investment by Stark Industries that benefits another group or person, but there's not enough detail to determine who is receiving all that cash. The accounts involved had been emptied by the time we checked, and there's no telling who accessed them."

"Stark wouldn't fund his captors, that much is certain." He frowned. "Was Harry responsible for this?"

"Probably not," Coulson answered, shrugging. "All the transactions we've been able to trace coincide with Mr. Stark's absence from the public eye, but they started before he returned from his capture. In other words, before Harry even became an issue at all. Instead, another person is implicated, and from the limited data we've deciphered so far, most of the dealings were made via a computer in the Stark building in Los Angeles – registered under a Mr. Obadiah Stane."

Fury scowled. "I know that name."

Coulson nodded unhappily. "Unfortunately, so does S.H.I.E.L.D. – and the army as well, I imagine. Stane has been on our watch-list since he was spotted talking to Jerome Hamilton, a known domestic terrorist that's gone underground several years ago, and is still at large. Unfortunately, beyond a single conversation there is no evidence of their interaction, so the case was dismissed as likely being a fluke. Hamilton has been known to occasionally throw investigators a false lead.

Fury pulled up the file of Jerome Hamilton, and paled. "This guy deals in highly dangerous chemical and biological weapons, and sells them on the black market? I can say a lot about Stark, but he's never been quite inhumane enough for that kind of thing. Contact Agent Barton – tell him to suit up and pack his bow. I want to know where that money's going to, and tracking down Hamilton is a good way to get started on that."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Coulson – you will head to Los Angeles, after you're done with that. With the army closing in, Banner and Harry might need S.H.I.E.L.D. support to cover them, and you're it. Take a squad. " He waited until the man nodded, then turned away, flipping open his phone and quickly dialling a number he'd recently memorized.

The phone was picked up immediately. "What do you need, Director?" After a stunned silence, Harry chuckled. "I had a suspicion you might call, even though I had hoped it would take longer than this. What do you need?"

Fury scanned the map of Los Angeles as he called it up on his computer screen, focusing on the Stark building. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is pursuing someone who has been spending a great amount of Stark's money on illicit activities, including terrorism. I figured you'd appreciate getting your hands dirty on that, given the fact that you can actually stand him."

"…Sure," Harry responded. "What are you going to do?"

"We want to bring in the culprit so that we can question him. He may have information about the groups he is in contact with, so that we can take them out." Fury frowned. "Unfortunately, we cannot simply drop in on the target. You might want to know the army has gotten involved, and we'd like to keep S.H.I.E.L.D.'s presence out of the picture, to avoid getting into yet another squabble with defence. Your abilities would allow you to evacuate the target without having to go straight through the armed forces, which would be a serious boon, and you are not known to be affiliated with us."

"Figures you'd find a way to keep yourself safe, while I get even more notorious," Harry said dryly. "What exactly do you need me to do, then? Helping out Tony's becoming a habit, so I'll do it, but I'd like some bloody details."

Fury sighed. "Alright. I want you to break into the Stark building, and retrieve a man called Obadiah Stane. I am sending you a picture of him, right now. You managed to sneak onboard the Helicarrier, getting into Stark's place certainly shouldn't be a problem for you." He muttered something uncomplimentary about that particular incident. "The target will likely be armed, so you'd have to prepare for that. We want to interrogate him, so keep him in one piece, too."

"Is delivering him to that last base we spoke at acceptable? The one with the fancy garden?"

"…You don't know where that is, you were in a blinded car."

Harry laughed softly on the other end of the line. "I think you'll have to learn not to underestimate me, Director. Now, what do we do if the army does decide to interfere? You know they're on the lookout for both me and Banner, right? I'd really rather avoid them entirely, if at all possible."

Fury rubbed his forehead tiredly. "You can keep yourself out of their hands until Agent Coulson arrives with S.H.I.E.L.D. support. If it's absolutely necessary, they'll intervene. We'll deal with any fallout from that after the fact."

"Okay."

Harry frowned, slipping the phone back into his pocket; it was performing admirably so far, which was somewhat surprising after Fury's had practically self-destructed. Perhaps it had something to do with the comparative simplicity of this one? It certainly didn't look nearly as sophisticated as the one he'd had before. Musing on the topic, he didn't notice Bruce's impatient stare until the man decided to speak up.

"Well, what did he want? What's happening? There's only two people who could've been calling…"

Harry turned to Bruce with a serious expression. "It was Fury, and he'd asked me to help out. Quicker than I'd anticipated, actually, but I guess it makes sense." He narrowed his eyes at his phone, wondering how to bring up the picture that had been sent. "Tony's company is being used to get great amounts of money to terrorists, and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s uncovered who's behind it." Bruce sucked in a breath, but gestured for Harry to continue. "A man called Obadiah Stane – Tony's mentioned him before, and I always heard he was a good man. His mentor, even."

"Tony's mentor's been stealing from him?"

Harry grimaced. "It's worse than that, I believe. Stane's been trying to oust Tony from his position and take his place. Now it seems Stane's already been abusing his current position to trade large sums with the very terrorist organization that took Tony captive in the first place. I wonder how coincidental that capture was?" He stepped over to the windows and looked over the sea. "Tony's gone to personally destroy all the weaponry that the terrorists received from Stark Industries. Fury wants me to bring in Stane, and I have no real clue how Tony might react to something like that, given their relation. Even with his questionable dealings of late, I doubt he'd just go along with capturing such a long-time friend."

Bruce nodded. "You want to take him in before Tony's back. I'll help, of course."

Harry turned to Bruce in surprise. "You'll help? Why's that? Last I checked, you've only known the guy for a day, and I didn't think you'd want to get near the army, in any case. They're still looking for you, and they're getting awfully close."

Bruce hesitated, and then frowned. "Harry , I might be afraid of hurting people – but I'm not a coward. You're clearly going after this guy alone, and that's just begging for trouble. Besides – half the Stark building has electronic locks, you wouldn't know what to do with them!"

Harry smirked. "Hey, I might not know much about computers, but I can blow them up well enough, and that usually works for my purposes. Now that you mention it, thought… I was considering finding a way into Stane's office. There's a computer there that has been used for most of the trading, and it's bound to have some juicy information. Chances are S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't gotten to it yet, so we could use the opportunity to figure out what's going on."

Bruce deliberated for a moment, and then nodded. "I can get that information, I think – but I'd need to sneak in, and it would take me at least a few minutes to get access and copy the files, or to transmit them back here. We'd probably need a distraction."

Harry smiled knowingly. "Perhaps not. If I take out Stane, you could go after the data, and all you'd really need is a way not to get spotted by any guards that might be there. I have a way…"

"This isn't physically possible!"

"Hush," Harry whispered, cringing. "You're going to warn half the building that you're there – just try not to get yourself noticed, please."

"Nanotube sheets could potentially generate an effect similar to this, but there's no way it could be a flexible surface, let alone allow one to sense the outside from within the effect zone!" Bruce whispered, slipping his face out. "Metamaterial technology is not this advanced! It can't be!"

Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn't all that comfortable with allow Bruce to borrow his invisibility cloak, but under the circumstances he didn't need it nearly as much; a disillusionment charm would work well enough for his purposes, even if it probably wouldn't fool much more than a casual visual search. "Bruce – just skip trying to figure out how it works, and accept that it does."

"…I think it actually blocks infrared light. Does it block the entire light spectrum? But how could you see anything from under it, then? This is…"

"Bruce."

"Yes, yes…" Bruce said, sighing. "Just promise me that we'll have a talk about this, after we're done. You keep pulling miraclesout of your pockets…"

"Get up to Stane's office, and be careful." Harry whispered forcefully. "I'll go after Stane himself – I believe I saw him downstairs in the foyer, so I'll start there. On the off chance he's in the office, don't approach him. Just wait until I'm near." Bruce nodded, slipping the cloak over his head and quickly departing down the hall.

Harry sighed in relief. Without his cloak, he'd need to be more careful than he usually was: Infrared cameras would easily spot him, for one. Thankfully the Stark building seemed fairly empty at this time of the night. The structure had at its centre a sizable version of the arc reactor; though it felt somewhat similar to Tony's version, the giant machine was strangely weaker than the pocket-sized version he knew. When Tony had unveiled his metal suit, his chest reactor had gone into serious overdrive, and for a moment Harry had been convinced that the magic would ruin every electronic device within a mile wide radius. It hadn't. Whatever strange form of magic this might be, it wasn't like anything he'd ever encountered.

Sneaking down to the ground floor, there were about a dozen people scattered around the hall; several were carrying around tools and heading for the basement, a few others were speaking in hushed tones. Quickly moving past, it took him only a few minutes to get to the largest gathering.

"Anyone have any idea what we're dealing with?" one of the men said, scratching his head. "It's not often that you get booted from your own lab…"

"Not really," answered a second man. "I hear it came from upstairs – some kind of secret parts, something like that. I guess it's that new contract, top secret stuff."

"Let's hope the press skips this one, can you imagine the stories that could form?" the first responded, sighing. "Where's the big guy, anyway?"

"Upstairs, I imagine. Said he had to take care of something. I think he'd just out to find himself some more donuts," a third man commented, and the others chuckled.

The big guy – well, three guess who that was. Harry turned on his heel, heading back in the direction that Bruce had gone. As he reached the stairs he gave up on stealth in the nigh-abandoned hallways and sprinted ahead. He whipped up the stairs at breakneck speed, wand at the ready. The three security guards that he came across on his way up the many stairs didn't even have time to notice him; they toppled to the ground, stunned.

Harry quickly put an Impervius charm on his clothes; it had been helpful in the past. He stalked over to the door slowly. Stane sat behind his desk, rummaging through a pile of papers and muttering softly to himself. Stepping in softly, the man suddenly looked up, and frowned, before turning back to his papers.

Seeing him sitting there, Harry wondered whether or not he could really do this – arrest someone merely on Fury's say-so. He put another step forward, and this time Stane looked up, and their gazes locked. Pure panic flashed through those eyes for a moment, replaced almost immediately by a calculating gaze that was far too devious for comfort.

"Obadiah Stane," Harry said, dropping the disillusionment spell, now that he'd been spotted.

"I recognize you," Stane said slowly, eyes narrowing. "You saved Tony's bacon in Afghanistan, didn't you? I never did get to meet you."

Harry shrugged. "Harry Callahan, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm afraid I've come here for your arrest, Mr. Stane." Harry tried to smile congenially. There were no guns in sight, though that could be a ruse; he was ready to send a Stupefy in an instant, should he get nasty. He briefly considered just stunning him and getting out of there, but that was a bit of overkill when dealing with an embezzler.

"So you are a secret agent," Stane whispered, eyes widening. "I had suspected it, but... That technology you used; turning nearly invisible is a remarkable achievement. You must be working for an organization much higher up the food chain than I'd anticipated. Who do you work for?"

Harry shrugged, imagining the devilish smirk that Fury would have at hearing such praise for his organization. "Are you going to make this a mess, or will you come quietly?"

A tense silence persisted for nearly a minute. Finally Stane nodded tiredly. "Alright – I'll come quietly. No need to get hasty. Can you at least tell me who you're taking me to?" Stane gingerly raised his hands; Harry had only enough time to notice a small pencil-sized object in one of them and raise his hand an inch, and he nearly had a spell off, before the buzzing started. For a second it felt like his heart stopped, and his wand dropped back into his pocket from his trembling fingers. The excruciatingly high-pitched sound of the little device echoed in his head as his muscles got stuck in position. He desperately tried to move his body, but it was no use. His breath became heavy and laboured and he couldn't look away.

"Don't worry – it will only last fifteen minutes, give or take," Stane said, smiling. "Such uses this technology has – temporary paralysis has many applications, and we really should have brought this little doodad into production, don't you think? It's unfortunate that you should discover its wonders so very shortly before your demise."

Harry tried to scream, to yell, to cast spells, but it was pointless. He might as well have been a statue. For an instant, he felt like he was back on the tower, watching powerlessly as Snape approached Dumbledore, the Killing Curse on his lips.

Stane smiled viciously. "I'm sure it's quite uncomfortable, but that's the least of your problems. In five minutes, there will be an unfortunate explosion at Stark Industries, destroying all financial information that had been erroneously left without a backup. I'm afraid you tragically die in the fire. Don't worry, I'm sure that they'll write a touching eulogy for Stark's saviour, and you'll get an honourable funeral for your service to the nation. I do appreciate getting this chance - "

A loud cry suddenly reverberated through the room, and for a moment Stane seemed as frozen as Harry was. He slowly turned to the source of the cry and paled dramatically when he realized what he was seeing. Three feet beside him, Bruce's upper body suddenly became visible, where before there had only been thin air. His muscles were twitching wildly, his eyes crazed. The gossamer invisibility cloak slid off the man's twitching frame, pooling to the floor at his feet as Bruce bellowed again in a far deeper voice. Harry shivered violently as he realized what had happened. Bruce had been in the room all along. The paralyzing device had caught him by surprise as much as it had Harry, but Harry didn't have a violent alter ego that really, really didn't appreciate stress.

In his frozen state, Harry could do nothing but watch helplessly as Bruce struggled against the device's effects, a greenish hue flashing across his skin as his limbs were slowly forced to obey by a cruder consciousness than his own. In his last sensible moments, Bruce tried to grab Stane. The next roar was deafening and Bruce's massive hand slammed down onto the floor, but it was too late. He was gone.

The Hulk turned to Harry with a look in his eyes that was so alien – so lost – that Harry had no idea what the creature was thinking. It didn't look violent, or even raging: If anything, Harry thought he saw Bruce in there, confusedly gazing around himself from the Hulk's body. The creature raised a hand, and prodded Harry in the shoulder. The wizard toppled to the floor, his limbs still refusing to move.

"Puny human," the Hulk grumbled. It ripped Obadiah's desk aside with one hand, sending it crashing through the window and out the side of the building. Below the desk was a device; it was large and black, and decidedly not supposed to be there. With a mighty swing it careened out of the building as well, flipping through the air, end over end. It smashed into the ground far below and released an explosive shock wave that rumbled through the building.

Harry twitched, and his hand moved minutely; slowly, he was regaining control of his muscles. He tried to keep his sight on the Hulk – all the could see was it standing at the giant hole it'd torn into the side of the Stark building, as if unsure of what to do. Harry desperately hoped it wouldn't decide he'd make suitable smashing material. Still, he let out a slight sigh to relief. Unintentionally or not, Bruce had just saved his life.

"Stane," Harry whispered; his tongue felt heavy and sluggish in his mouth, and he was uncomfortably reminded of resting in St. Mungo's after taking a particularly nasty spell-burn to his torso; he'd been nearly as weak, there. The Hulk would probably tear the man limb from limb, but right that moment Harry couldn't care; orders to capture or not, Stane had just tried to murder him, and he wasn't damn well letting the guy get away without a scratch.

The Hulk turned and stared at him for a long moment. Its eyes looked far less like Bruce's than before. They resembled burning, constantly smouldering coals, now. The creature stepped over to Harry, its footsteps putting little dents into the floor. "Stane," Harry tried again, attempting to gesture. He knew it was probably pointless to communicate with Bruce like this – it certainly hadn't worked last time – but while he couldn't movie, he had nothing to lose. The creature suddenly roared at the top of its lungs, and with a single movement the entire wall crashed in on itself, descending in bits and pieces around him as the Hulk stormed through. It hurtled into offices on the other side and thundered through the hall, out of sight.

Harry slowly managed to sit upright, his skin regaining some colour and his breathing returning to a semblance of normal as the paralysis started to wear off, leaving him confused and sick. Harry tried to cast a reviving spell - it worked well enough for Stunners - but he couldn't manage it; he was shaking, and his concentration was shot. Sirens sounded in the distance and he knew that was bad news. He wasn't quite sure why right that moment. He managed to, at last, stand up. He grasped his jacket and pulled out his phone, taking a long minute to recall Tony's number.

"T-Tony?"

"Harry? …You sound horrible, what's going on?"

"W-We're at the St-Stark building. Banner's changed – Stane. Stane's gone bad." Harry said, groaning. "Where… are y-you?"

"I'm headed back home – I have over two hours of travel time left, even if I push it – what's the situation? Talk?"

Harry stumbled into the ruined hallway, grasping his wand in hand. He tried a few spells he knew to counteract stunning, but they had little effect. Casting Rennervate did little: He felt like dancing a jig, but his limbs protested and refused to comply. Aside from the floor, which was miraculously enough intact, there was scarcely anything left of the upper floors; even the ceiling sagged under its own weight, and Harry stumbled out before it could collapse on him.

"Stane – he used… some kind of paralysis device. Tried to kill me. He didn't see – Bruce." Harry muttered into his phone. He summoned his invisibility cloak from the floor and wrapped it around his shuddering shoulders as he made his way to more stable ground. "Bruce – changed. I think he's gone after Stane."

"You're telling me that Obadiah tried to kill you?" Tony barked, furious. Harry grunted in affirmation, making his way to the window with measured steps. He gazed out of the giant tear in the side of the building where the Hulk had smashed its way out. Far below, he could see the green giant. Unfortunately, there was something else.

"Tony – there's – there's another suit!" Harry blurted, taking in the huge machine that took a hit from the Hulk's fist, and remained standing. It looked like a gigantic silver version of Tony's armour – bulkier and larger, but definitely reminiscent of it. The huge machine blasted the Hulk with a bright repulsor beam, and the green behemoth lurched back. Harry quickly rummaged through his bag for his trusty Firebolt; he had no desire to try and run in his condition. "It's like yours - but gigantic!"

Tony cursed. "That's the Mark I, it has to be – Damn it, I left it in little pieces. Someone must've reconstructed the thing. I'm already headed back, can you keep the scrapyard busy while I put on afterburners?"

"You cannot take me, brute!" Obadiah's deformed voice resounded from the huge metal suit; its fist smashed across the Hulk's face and there was immediate retaliation, but the suit actually fended off the blow, energy crackling across its surface. In the centre of the great machine's chest – right where an arc reactor would be – gleamed an iridescent green light.

"Stane's … in the suit," Harry said, wincing. "He's actually managing to block Bruce's hits in that thing. I think we'll need all the... firepower we can get."

"I'm hauling my shiny metal ass back there at Mach 2!"

"Tony... Portus."

There was a silence on the other end. "...This shouldn't become a habit. I think I still have a waterlily shoved in between my-"He cut himself off, and sighed. "Couldn't you have picked a cooler passphrase than Portus? Anyway, you'll pay for the cleaning b-" The signal cut off.

In the distance, military helicopters approached.