Chapter Text
Bruce boarded the Hogwarts Express nervously, walking down the narrow aisle while running his thumb back and forth over the handle of his rolling suitcase. As he looked around, he seemed to be the only student with one and not a trunk.
He still didn’t think he belonged, that any of it was real. Someone as reasonable and logical as Bruce would’ve never believe in magic, let alone him being magic himself. His father had quite literally beaten the idea into him.
As he passed the different compartments of the train, he was nervous to enter uninvited into any of them, but they all seemed to be full. He finally came across one that was only occupied by only one boy who happened to look his age.
“Do you mind if I sit in here with you?” Bruce asked as he opened the compartment door. The other boy looked up, a confused look on his face, and nodded.
Bruce began to lift his suitcase into the bin above the empty seat.
“Why does your trunk look like that?” the other boy asked.
“What?” Bruce said as he sat down.
“Why does it have wheels and stuff?”
“It’s a suitcase. I don’t know. Why doesn’t yours?”
The boy narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re muggle born, aren’t you?”
“I’m what?”
“You’re parents aren’t magic, right?”
“No…”
“Muggle. Not-magic.”
“Right.” Bruce looked out the window as the train began moving. Although he was more than happy to be leaving home, Bruce felt like he didn’t belong here, either.
“What’s your name, anyway?” The other boy had startled Bruce out of his thoughts.
“Bruce. Banner. You?”
“Tony Stark,” he said as he held out his hand. Bruce took it and then relaxed into his seat. “So, how much do you even know about Hogwarts? Or the Wizarding World, for that matter?”
“Nothing, really,” Bruce looked down and felt his face flush. Back home, he had always seemed to know everything about everything. He wasn’t used to being completely ignorant about anything. The lack of resources he had was astounding, and now he was going to school without even the basic school supplies. He had been promised all of his books and basic supplies would be waiting for him at Hogwarts, but he missed his first chance of experiencing the wizarding world because his father wouldn’t allow it. Bruce saved enough money for a bus ticket to London, received a train ticket in the mail, packed his things and got to the Hogwarts Express all by himself. Now that he looked back on it, it was quite an accomplishment.
“Wow. That’s crazy,” Tony shook his head as if he couldn’t believe such a thing, tousling his black hair into his face. “My parents come from an annoyingly old wizarding lineage. It sucks, kind of. What was it like growing up in a muggle house?”
Bruce laughed. If only Tony could imagine the house he’d come from. “Terrible. I’m glad to get out.”
“You didn’t like anything?”
Bruce thought about it. “School, I guess. I was good at it. I have no idea if I’ll be good here, though.”
“Wait, you’ve already been to school? How old do muggles start?”
“Around age five, maybe? Why, don’t wizards have primary schools?”
Tony school his head. “We stay home, learn stuff from our parents, I guess. What did you do in Muggle School?”
It was Bruce’s turn to be in disbelief, and he laughed at it. “Reading and math, mostly. Some art and music, science, sports.”
“Wait, science and math? Those are things? I’ve only ever heard of them.”
Bruce looked back out the window. “Those are my favorite subjects. I guess they don’t have them at Hogwarts, right?”
“I doubt it. I’ve never heard of wizards doing it.”
Bruce sighed. Without math and science, his hopes of doing well in his new school started to dwindle.
“If you wanted, you could show me some of that math and science stuff.” Tony said.
“Really?” Bruce’s whole body perked up, and he could swear Tony looked genuinely interested.
“Hell yeah! It’d be so cool to learn about non-magic stuff! I’m not saying I don’t like the wizarding world, but it feels so small sometimes. Especially growing up in it. They don’t really like to explore new things. Wizards are very… traditional. Especially ones that come from families like mine.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’ll learn about that soon enough.”
Tony suddenly looked up. “Wait, do you even know about the houses at Hogwarts?”
“The houses?”
“Oh my god! It’s like, the most important part of school!”
“Really?” Bruce suddenly felt embarrassed again for his lack of knowledge.
“Well, aside from actual learning, it’s the most important part of school. So long, long ago when they were starting Hogwarts, the founders couldn’t get along for shit and decided to divvy up all the students. They each had some stupid character trait or whatever they cared about and decided which students end up where. For as long as Hogwarts has been around, everyone gets sorted into houses. And it sticks with you. Pretty much all your friends will be in your house. You live in dorms together and eat together and have a Quidditch team and a mascot and everything.”
Bruce was suddenly excited yet nervous. He’d have to be sorted? Would he have to be judged? Would he even get along with his other house members? And what the hell was Quidditch?
“What are the houses?”
Tony started numbering them on his fingers. “There’s Slytherin, which is supposed to be for ambitious and cunning people, then there’s Ravenclaw, which is for the smarty-pants, Hufflepuff for anyone who’s ‘loyal,’ but everyone knows that house pretty much takes anyone who doesn’t fit into the other three, and Gryffindor, which some people say is for the brave, and I say is for the reckless.”
“Wow… which do you think you’ll get sorted into?”
Tony grunted. “Slytherin. My whole family’s been in Slytherin. I don’t know what they’d do if I wasn’t sorted there… they’d probably kick me out of the family.”
Bruce doubted this, but he didn’t know how serious these houses actually were.
“Are there rivalries?”
“Pretty much Slytherin against everyone, but especially Gryffindor.”
Bruce nodded. “Do you want to be in Slytherin?”
“I don’t even know. I just expect it.”
“Why do you say that? Because of your family?”
“That, and Slytherin has sort of a reputation… more like a stereotype. I think I fit it.”
“What sort of stereotype?”
“The bad kind. ‘Evil’ would be an exaggeration, but not completely off the mark.”
“Well, you definitely don’t seem evil to me.”
Tony looked surprised by that. “Thanks, but you don’t know me to well.”
Bruce looked out the window again, watching the green outside the train move at lightning speed. What house would he be in? Ravenclaw, probably. But he didn’t know the houses well enough. Slytherin didn’t sound appealing, at least not being thrown into a stereotype, but if Tony thought he was going to end up there, it must not be too bad. Tony didn’t seem too bad, at least.”
They spent the rest of the train ride going back and forth between animatedly talking about their two very different live to going back to silence. When the food cart came around, Bruce couldn’t afford any because he hadn’t exchanged his currency, but Tony got him some of his own favorite wizarding treats. Tony taught him about chocolate frog card trading, and then they tried different flavors of every flavored beans until Bruce got sick and Tony laughed at him. By the end of the train ride, Bruce didn’t care what house he would be sorted into, he just really wanted to be with Tony.
When the first-years reached the Great Hall, Bruce couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d never seen a building so beautiful except for in books; the tall, medieval-style archways, the long wooden tables, the hanging candles, and most magnificent, the ceiling that mimicked the sky.
It was announced that the first-years would be sorted by a talking hat, and Bruce was even more convinced that this was all a dream.
Only two students were in line before Bruce to be sorted (Hufflepuff and Gryffindor). Bruce shook as he walked up to the stool and had the wrinkled hat set on his head. It was only a few seconds until the hat shouted “SLYTHERIN!” and Bruce felt himself blush.
As he walked towards the long, green-decorated table, Bruce glanced at Tony. He was waiting, towards the back of the line and gave Bruce a thumbs-up. Inside, though, Bruce was queasy. Even though he only heard some comments from Tony, he didn’t like the reputation he was being put into. Evil? Bad? These were things Bruce never wanted to be associated with. However, he had thought these things about his father, and maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree at all.
He looked up to see Tony walking towards the stool. Tony caught Bruce’s eye and smiled at him before the hat was placed on his head. It seemed to take a much longer time deciding Tony’s house, however, until it finally shouted “GRYFFINDOR!” and Tony’s face turned white.