Chapter Text
"Bruce. Wake up. Bruce. BRUCE."
Bruce sprang into consciousness, barely repressing a (very manly) shriek of fear, but kept his eyes firmly shut. What was happening? In a matter of seconds his left hand had gone for his glasses and his right for the wand he kept under his pillow. He could feel a weight on his left. He opened his eyes to the "sweet" sight of Tony Stark's smiling face hovering over his own - it actually explained the weight since he was probably sat (or sprawled) on his bed besides him.
Bruce just wanted to go back to sleep.
"What time is it and what do you want?" he half whispered half-mumbled, going for an exasperated tone without succeeding.
"It's exactly 4 in the morning, and I need sustenance."
"You need what!?"
"Food. Spiced chicken wings. Tacos. Apple pie. Treacle tart. Pumpkin juice. Also some coffee."
"But it's four am!"
"Exactly. C’mon, Grumpy, it'll be fun!"
"No. We're going to lose House points and everyone is going to hate us, and we're going to get detention."
"But I'm hungry!" said Tony, a little too loudly. They both frowned.
It was the middle of the night, and the six other students in the dormitory were fast asleep (and if they weren't, well, they weren't making themselves known and therefore didn't count). Tony looked like a lunatic, Bruce thought.
"You're worse than a pregnant woman with your cravings, you know that?" he whispered.
"I'm not on my cycle Bruce... therefore I need food," Tony answered seriously.
"I'm going back to sleep," scowled Bruce.
"Nope!" simply said Tony before giving him a shit-eating grin and pulling the blankets off his body, throwing his pillow away as well. Bruce pushed Tony away in return, almost making him fall off the four-poster bed, and they ended up wrestling like children for a while in (relative) silence. In the end, Tony grabbed Bruce, and they both ended up lying on the cold, unforgiving floor, one sprawled beside the other.
And really it was the point of Tony's plan all along, but Bruce was so very much awake that he felt like there wasn't much point in trying to go back to sleep. So he sighed and got up on his feet, and Tony did the same, except that Tony was smiling like a madman who hadn't gotten any sleep in the past 28 hours, and Bruce was still a mess of grumpiness and curls.
And while Tony was fully clothed - black pants and Muggle hoodie with a Muggle band on it - Bruce was in his boxers.
"You never told me that you slept in your boxers" grinned Tony. Bruce was freezing and wanted to rip that smile off his face. "You know, I think Hogwarts would benefit from you walking around without a shirt more often."
"I'm not walking around, you dragged me off my fucking bed, and besides, I'm pretty sure no one would benefit from seeing my scar."
And a scar he had, indeed. A single, but big, bite mark, on the right side of his body - you could still imagine the bottom teeth digging at the top of his hip, the upper teeth on his lower ribs. A dog bite, to anyone who asked. Being Muggle-born, Bruce knew it could pass. But nobody ever asked, for rare were the people who'd ever seen it. Tony was one of them, but he knew the truth, so it was different.
"Duh, you would get ladies all over you. They love that kind of thing."
"Whatever, pass me some clothes" grumbled Bruce, sat on the side of his bed.
"Only because you're my favourite, Grumpy" said Tony before throwing him a hoodie and some pants.
Being a bit taller, and a bit broader on the shoulders than Tony, the hoodie clung to him like a second skin - Tony didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes Bruce wondered how, and when, their friendship had started to become... this. He had yet to success in pinpointing the exact moment, but wasn't giving up by any means.)
"Let's go get your fucking food"
Tony trusted his fist in the air in victory while whooping with glee.
"You guys shut the fuck up or I'm getting Coulson to kick your stupid asses!" said an unknown, grumpy voice in the shadows somewhere in the room. Bruce muffled his laugh into an awkward cough and let himself get dragged by the wrist.
They got out of the Fifth Year male dormitory, tried not to make any noise while going down the stairs (Bruce was silent, Tony... a little less so), before crossing the Ravenclaw Common Room, getting down the spiral staircase that led to it. Five floors to go, Bruce thought.
"What about the Prefects though? They must be patrolling... and we have school at 9 o'clock tomorrow..."
"Bruce, Bruce, Bruce... first my luck is legendary, se-"
"By legendary you mean you always get caught right?!"
"It's mean to interrupt, Bruce - second, if we meet anyone, officially you woke up feeling extremely bad and I, being the generous and ideal student that I am, decided to take you to the Hospital Wing."
"Sure. Like that's gonna work. Tony Stark on a 4 am stroll to take his fellow Ravenclaw down to the Hospital Wing."
"Good to see you agree with me."
"I was being sarcas-"
"Whatever, we've got five floors to go through, well, six since the kitchen is in the basement, remind me why we stopped again!? Move your werewolf ass."
"You dodged my question about us having class tomorrow."
"It wasn't even a question and therefore didn't require my attention," he said before starting to walk again.
Bruce sneered but followed Tony anyway.
Fortunately, they didn't meet anybody on their way down, and didn't get caught.
Hogwarts at night was a sight that Bruce always enjoyed, despite it being a little creepy. There weren't any torches lit, so they had to use their wands if they wanted to see where they were going. And it was eerily calm, so quiet that the only thing you could actually hear was the noise of your feet on the ancient stone-paved ground - that and your breath, and the pounding of your heart. You could see the night sky outside the windows if you passed any,
the moon shining over the lake, if you were passing by the right side of the castle. Those kinds of things.
Tony, once in the basement, actually wanted to pay a visit to Clint ("to scare the shit out of him, come on it will be LEGENDARY") in his Hufflepuff dormitory. Bruce convinced him that it wasn't a good idea, and surprisingly enough he dropped it.
So here they were, in the kitchen, right under the Great Hall. The ceiling was high, the atmosphere warm; there were dimly lit fires in the chimneys, and the room smelled wonderful. Some of the elves were actually cleaning when they arrived, the others being probably asleep somewhere else, but as soon as they saw the two students, they gathered around them and offered them all sorts of food, as they usually did. The fact that it was so early in the morning (or so late during the night) didn't seem to faze them in any way; they seemed glad to be visited. Tony had been there more than a couple of times, and some of the house elves apparently knew him. He gently asked for some apple pie, butterbeer and coffee, all while being very polite. One of the things that had always fascinated Bruce was how kind Tony could be when he wanted to. The food was quickly brought to him by two elves apparently very eager to please.
Soon Tony and Bruce were invited to sit down by the chimneys on comfortable armchairs. The house elves were happily babbling and Tony was stuffing himself with food - he'd now gotten hold of some chicken, Bruce didn't want to ask how, when, or why - and seemed at peace. He looked tired, but other than that, well.
Bruce guessed he probably looked the same, right now - weary but peaceful.
It seemed ridiculous, this four am trip to the kitchen, now that he actually thought about it. But those were the odds of being friend with Tony Stark, you never knew what could happen, Bruce mused. He realized without any surprise that he didn't mind.
Then, he remembered he had class in a few hours and sighed. Okay, maybe he did mind a bit after all.