“Remember people, I’ll be talking about bezoars next class, so be sure to look over that section in the book. Off you go, class dismissed!”
The sound of chairs scraping against the floor and feet scrabbling fills the air, and Peter stands up, gathering up his books, turning to walk out with Ned and MJ.
“Except you, Parker. Stay back a minute, you and I need to have a conversation,” their professor calls, turning to the shelves behind him.
Ned goes for subtle, giggling lightly, while MJ just laughs out loud, wolf whistles and cat calls filling the air from various corners of the classroom. Peter blushes furiously, red staining his cheeks, and he throws a middle finger over his shoulder, making his way to the back of the classroom. The man sits perched on a stool, eyeing Peter over his glasses. Peter comes to a stop in front of him, inches away, finger twirling in the strands of the yellow scarf winded around his neck.
“You needed to see me, Professor Stark?”
“How many times do I have to tell you, love, call me Tony. Hell, call me Anthony if you have to, Professor Stark makes me sound like a father, my father,” Tony groans.
“You are a daddy though, aren’t you?” Peter questions cheekily, rocking back on his heels, giggling when Tony rolls his eyes.
“You refuse to call me Tony in class, but calling me daddy is perfectly all right? Bit counterproductive, wouldn’t you say?”
Peter grins. “Never claimed it wasn’t,” he says. “Daddy,” he tacks on, for good measure.
“Merlin’s beard,” Tony grumbles, shifting on the stool. “We’re meant to be having a serious conversation, boy.”
“By all means,” Peter shrugs, waving a hand, biting back a smile. “Serious conversation away.”
Tony reaches behind him, pulling forth a stack of papers. He picks up the booklet on top, holding it up for Peter to see. “Look familiar, Parker? Ringing any bells?”
Peter squints, leaning forward and pretending to eye the booklet seriously before straightening. “No sir, can’t say that it does.”
It’s Tony’s turn to squint, and he takes off his glasses. “No? You’re certain?”
Peter nods, emphatic. “Why would you think Flash’s homework would be familiar to me, Professor?”
“Because it’s the most curious thing, you see,” Tony starts, standing up and crossing his arms, settling back against the laboratory bench. “Same concepts, tested last week? Flash fails the exam. Hugely, might I add. One might even go so far as to say epically. But then homework’s issued on the same concepts less than a week later? Flash passes with top marks. Utter perfection, in fact, not an error to be found,” he finishes, brandishing the pamphlet in question in the air for emphasis.
The two of them stand in silence, staring at each other, waiting for the other to blink first.
“Cut him some slack,” Peter relents, hurrying to defend the boy when Tony rolls his eyes. “Work’s piling up, and Quidditch tryouts are this week- position’s opened up for Ravenclaw’s seeker.”
“Well, maybe he shouldn’t be trying out for the team if he can’t handle the workload now should he?” Tony questions, turning around, beginning to gather his papers up off the surface.
“It’s not easy, when the only time your parents will pay attention to you is if you bring home a perfect report card. And his father will never speak to him again if he doesn’t make it onto the team,” Peter responds, tone soft and pleading, delighted when Tony’s shoulders sag, giving in.
“You’re too bloody soft for your own good, Parker. Boy picks on you like there’s no tomorrow, and you repay him by doing his Potions homework,” Tony grunts, turning around, waving a finger at Peter’s face. “Damn Hufflepuff through and through,” he half-snarks, half-complains, heading for the door.
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Peter laughs, falling in step with the older man.
“Mm, worse than being a self-centered, cutthroat Slytherin, I suppose?” Peter asks, giggling and twisting, dodging Tony’s good natured swat. They walk down the hallway, past crowds of chattering students and big, open windows, bathing the corridor in sunlight. Peter turns right at the end of the passage, beginning to make his way to the Hufflepuff dormitories, tuning to wish his professor a good rest of his day. “See you Tue- Professor?”
“Parker?” Tony throws back, tone amused, eyes twinkling and smile wicked, keeping step with the boy.
“Why, if I may ask, sir, are you walking with me to the dormitories?” Peter questions, arching an eyebrow.
“Just wanted to walk you back, gotta make sure you make it there in one piece.”
“I’ve been going to this school for seven years, Professor,” Peter remarks, so dry he could light kindling, “might come as a shock to you, but I think I’ll be fine.”
“One can never be too careful these days, little badger,” Tony croons and Peter rolls his eyes but, save for a light shove, doesn’t disagree further.
They make their way through the castle to the corridor that leads to the Hogwarts kitchens, proceeding past the large still life that forms the entrance to that area, to the pile of large barrels stacked in a shadowy stone recess on the right-hand side of the corridor.
Tony stands, waiting for Peter to tap the code on the correct barrel and open the entrance, and Peter stands, waiting for Tony to walk away. Neither of them moves for a few minutes.
“Professor?” Peter finally prompts, distinctly unimpressed when Tony gives him a look of feigned confusion.
“What? I’m just waiting for you to get in safely,” Tony defends, making no move to walk away.
Peter rolls his eyes - something that’s becoming increasingly common in Tony’s presence, they both note - lightly shoving Tony, nodding his head in the direction of the corridor.
“That’s quite alright, Professor, you’ve walked me this far, I really couldn’t expect you to stay.”
“Oh really, it’s no bother- Tony starts, cut off when Peter gently nudges him again, nodding his head more meaningfully this time.
“Go. Before someone comes and we have to explain what it is that’s happening here.”
“Nothing’s happening here though, is it sweetheart?” Tony prods, grinning when Peter lets out a small huff.
“No thanks to you,” he shoots back, crossing his arms.
“Fine, just give me a kiss then,” Tony offers. “One kiss and I’ll be gone,” he swears, leaning in, eyes fluttering shut and lips pursing, head tilting-
Peter’s hand comes up, slapping across Tony’s mouth, preventing the man’s lips from meeting his own, where an amused grin plays.
“Not as long as you’re still my Professor, Professor. Bloody hell, for such a sharp man I do have to remind you quite often,” Peter says, playfully scandalized.
“What can I say, darling,” Tony responds, pulling back with a wicked grin on his lips, not the slightest bit repentant. “Memory’s a tricky thing, ‘specially in old age. Gets a wee bit finnicky.”
“I’ve heard there’s spells you can perform for that sorta thing, potions you can take. Wouldn’t you know, being a Potions professor?”
“You’re snarky for a Hufflepuff, you know.”
“And you’re just as lecherous as one would expect a Slytherin to be. Now will you leave, old man, or am I going to have to spell you away?”
has this been done already? im jk, i know it’s been done a million times, and a million times better, this is me lovingly adding my token of trash to the talent pile :) lemme know if y’all wanna see another slytherpuff (my new favourite ship name ever) drabble with young!tony💕
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