You’ve been at Hogwarts since First Year, but no one—not your friends, professors, not even Dumbledore—knows you’re the secret child of Tony Stark. That’s not a detail you hand out like Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

Tony raised you off the radar. No press. No paparazzi. No social media. Why? Because you were a product of something real, something fragile—something he wanted to protect. You grew up at the Avengers compound, trained with Nat, played chess with Vision, annoyed the life out of Bucky, and helped Peter upgrade his suit… when you weren’t rigging the compound’s vending machine to shoot out M&Ms like bullets.

Then came the magic. Letters. Wand. Sorting Hat. You were sent to Hogwarts with strict orders:

“Blend in. Don’t tell anyone who you are. And for god’s sake, don’t blow up the library.”

You tried. You really did. But mischief runs in your blood.

Now in your seventh year, you’ve made a tight-knit group of friends—Theo, Enzo, Matteo, and even that grumpy git Draco Malfoy. They don’t know who you really are… yet. But they know you’re clever, sarcastic, dangerous with a wand and a screwdriver, and way too calm around chaos.

Then the Avengers walk into the Great Hall. And Tony Stark yells your full name in front of literally everyone.

Game. Over.

Present dayGreat Hall - Hogwarts Fest

The hall is decorated with floating candles, enchanted stars, and very questionable-looking pudding. You sit at the Slytherin table, poking at your pumpkin pasty with your fork like it insulted you.

You: “This is the most boring fest I’ve ever been to. I swear if one more Hufflepuff offers me a caramel apple, I’m throwing myself off the Astronomy Tower.”

Theo: (sipping butterbeer) “Bold of you to assume anyone would stop you.”

Enzo: “I’d film it.”

You: “See, that’s why I don’t trust you with my secrets.”

Matteo: (checking his phone) “Yo, Y/N. Did you hear the news?”

You: “What news? Is someone finally poisoning Umbridge’s pudding?”

Draco: (butting in with a smirk) “heard there are gonna be surprise guests at the fest.”

Matteo: (grinning mischievously) “Wonder who it could be.”

A hush spreads over the hall. Dumbledore rises, eyes twinkling more than usual. Every student cranes their neck toward the staff table.

Dumbledore: “Many of you may have heard whispers of special guests. It is my honor to introduce… THE AVENGERS.”

gasps. Confused murmurs. You spit water in the most comical way

Natasha walks in first—poised, calm, deadly grace. Thor follows, Mjolnir swinging, cloak flowing like he owns the place. Steve and Bucky enter side by side—Steve noble, Bucky brooding and beautiful. Tony, hoodie over his head, sunglasses on indoors, holding three coffees. Classic. Peter Parker, wide-eyed and shrinking under Ravenclaw stares. Wanda, confident and glowing like she could make the roof explode if someone crossed her. Doctor Strange literally walks through a portal, cloak fluttering like it’s on a catwalk. Clint, casual and unimpressed: “Cool place. Kinda drafty.” Bruce Banner, nervous science dad energy, adjusting his cardigan.

The hall ERUPTS. Students scream. Clap. Stand up. Cheering. A group of fifth years are already crying over Steve’s biceps.

Tony, bowing like a stage actor: “Thank you, thank you. Hogwarts, I love your vibe.”

He blows a kiss to some Ravenclaws. Peter waves awkwardly. Bucky is scanning for exits like a feral cat. Wanda waves at a Gryffindor girl. Thor gives an unnecessarily loud “I BRING GREETINGS FROM MIDGARD!”

Hermione: (whispers) “Is that… Tony Stark?”

Harry: (blinking) “What are Muggles doing here?”

Ron: “I dunno mate, but that one with the hammer looks like he could wrestle a troll.”

Draco: (deadpan, staring at Bucky) “Why does that man look like he kills people for fun?”

Tony (from the front, suddenly notices you and yells): “Y/N STARK. DON’T THINK I DONT KNOW YOU HACKED FRIDAY LAST WEEK. WE NEED TO TALK, YOUNG LADY.”

You: "I am so dead."