33 Chapter 33

"Nothing really, why?" Pepper asked with a hint of confusion in her eyes.

Biting into the last bite of his burger, Tony said, "Well, there's this party tonight, and I thought I could use a date."

Pepper's initial puzzlement transformed into an instant awkwardness. Her lips parted as if searching for the right words. "Do you need me to arrange a date for you?"

Tony waved off her suggestion with a laugh, his eyes darting to the textbook on the table. "No, no, just you. You as my date," he replied nonchalantly, grabbing a tissue to dab at his mouth before picking up the book to continue his reading. "Pick a dress you like, charge it to my card. You know the drill."

Pepper blinked, processing the unexpected proposition. "Wait, you mean you and me?"

Tony, nose deep in his book, gave an absentminded nod, not bothering to gauge her reaction.

Her cheeks ablaze, Pepper stammered, "Okay, got it. See you tonight," and quickly made her exit with her heart pounding.

Once Pepper had left, a sudden thought struck Tony. "Hey, Jarvis, get me Jamie on the line."

The holographic interface flickered to life, dialing Jamie's number. Tony tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk. After a few rings, Jamie's voice crackled through the speakers, and she didn't sound too thrilled. "You better have a damn good reason for calling me right now, Tony."

Tony wasn't one to dilly-dally, so he got straight to the point. "Ever heard of George Weasley?"

Jamie's irritation took a swift detour to curiosity. "Sure, I know him. He's Uncle Ron's brother and a close friend of my godfather. Why the sudden interest?"

"I stumbled upon his shop on Enchantia Avenue."

"Huh, I didn't know he set up shop there," Jamie mused, her tone turning thoughtful. "Maybe I should swing by sometime."

"He's running an alchemy workshop. Got me thinking, is he any good at it?"

"He was my top pick when I was looking for a teacher for you. Didn't finish his formal studies, but that guy's a bit of a genius when it comes to making prank stuff," Jamie replied,

Tony leaned back in his chair. "That's impressive. What do you think about having him help me improve my armor?" He absentmindedly stroked his chin, his gaze fixed on his armor being worked behind the glass.

Jamie's mind whirred with possibilities. Images of Tony, decked out in his suit armor, launching fireworks over a crowd, morphing into a colossal, shadowy dragon, sending his foes fleeing in terror. 

Shaking off her vivid imagination, Jamie went, "I think it's possible, Tony, but you gotta watch out. You've met the guy, you know what he's like. Speaking of which, what kind of animal did you turn into?"

Tony, with the memory of his embarrassing workshop experience, whispered, "How the heck do you know about that?"

Jamie chuckled, "He must've pranked you good. So, did he turn you into a pig or was it something else?"

"Canary," Tony deadpanned.

For a beat, the line crackled with silence. Then, Jamie's full-blow laughter could be heard from the other end. "I wish I could've seen it."

"Haha, go ahead, laugh it up," Tony grumbled.

"Okay, okay, no more laughs. Anything else? I'm kinda swamped right now," Jamie responded, her attention firmly fixed on the bubbling cauldron in front of her.

"Nope, I'll treat you to dinner later. Goodbye," Tony said, ending the call.

Mark II had just put the final brushstroke on the red and gold suit, and Tony couldn't help but admire the result. His eyes fell on a gap by the wrist—perfect for stashing his wand.

Just as he was soaking in his handiwork, a sudden burst of warmth could be felt in his pants pocket. The galleon inside was turning into a mini furnace. Tony snatched it out, only to find the coin transforming into a miniature replica of George's face. "Tony, your order's all set. Are you coming to pick them up? Or should I send an owl?"

Tony glanced at the clock—it was pushing two in the afternoon. "Come over. I've got something cool to show you," he said and then told George his Floo address.

He barely beat George's arrival when the fireplace roared to life, and George stumbled out,

"Sir, my sensors detected an unfamiliar presence," Jarvis's alarmed voice rang out. "Should I sound the alarm?"

Tony shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "No, no, Jarvis, this is my guest," he interjected, his voice warm and welcoming. He extended a hand toward George, who was busy brushing soot from his shoulders. "Welcome to my lair, George."

Taking in the surroundings in confusion, George couldn't help but ask, "Hey Tony, was that a house-elf talking just now?"

Tony's smile faltered. "Oh, shoot! I forgot about him!" He smacked his forehead, a look of realization crossing his face. Gesturing for George to follow, he led the way toward the basement.

After rummaging through the entire workshop, Tony finally found what he was searching for—the contract he had signed with the house-elf. He carefully examined the document and found the name of the house-elf. 

"Bog?" Tony softly called out.

With a faint pop, a raggedy pillowcase-wearing house-elf appeared before Tony, eyes brimming with tears. "Master! You remembered me at last!"

Tony awkwardly shifted his gaze to the small creature. "Sorry about that. I've been busy, you know. What have you been doing all this time?"

"Bog has been diligently cleaning the house for Master," the elf hurriedly replied.

Tony nodded. "Alright, continue doing that, but make sure you don't reveal yourself to anyone else."

Bog bowed deeply, nearly touching the ground with his head. "Of course, Master."