1This takes place sometime after the last chapter of Cupboards and Cryogenics.
Harry grips a wooden block as he runs up to Dad. "I want to make it into a trophy. You said you'd teach me how."
The Olympics are over now, and they're back at the X-Homeschool, but Harry still loves the thought of winning the cup.
Suddenly, the wooden block is a shiny, golden trophy cup. Harry looks up at Loki, who says "I'm sparing your father the pain of trying to teach you anything."
Harry holds the cup out angrily. "I'm not a pain! Turn it back to a block!"
The trophy cup doesn't change. Harry drops it on the rug.
Dad frowns at Loki. "I thought you enjoyed seeing others suffer."
Harry runs to get another block. "Don't turn this one, Loki."
Loki raises his hands with a smile that means trouble.
Dad pulls a knife out from somewhere, flipping it. Harry laughs, and Dad tells him not to try it.
Harry very carefully watches as Dad shows him how to slice off bits of wood. It's like slicing things in the kitchen.
"Follow the lines, like a train on the tracks." Dad says, showing Harry with his own knife. "Make sure you always move the knife away from your body."
"You don't." Harry says. He's seen Dad carving towards his hand- and not even his metal one.
"I heal." Dad says. "And I'm highly skilled with knives."
"I want to be highly skilled with knives." Harry says. Mr. Stark had said knives weren't toys, but Harry's learning how to carve toys. He feels so grown up now that he's five.
Dad makes Harry put on safety gloves that he never wears. Harry also has to wear goggles over his glasses, the same type of goggles Doctor Banner and Beast wear in the lab. Mr. Stark doesn't always wear them, but Dad says
After a lot of showing Harry how, Dad watches carefully while Harry tries it.
Dad makes slicing the wood look so easy, but it's not. And it's so slow. Harry does a gazillion moves with the knife, and barely anything comes off.
"This is where magic comes in handy." Loki says, sounding bored. "Even Black could transfigure it in a moment."
"Cutting stuff is fun." Harry says. He can pretend to be Logan when he helps Dad slice things for smoothies.
Logan plops down on the couch with a beer, and Harry holds out the block. "Can you cut some?"
"Give it to me, so I don't slice off your fingers." Logan commands. "You'd need a fancy metal hand like your old man."
"Aren't you older?" Harry asks, confused, as he hands Logan the block. Logan pushes one claw out to cut off the corner of the block.
"Why's it so easy for you?" Harry demands. It's not fair!
"My claws are adamantium." Logan tells him. "They can cut through things a lot tougher than wood."
Harry looks at his little knife, then the claws. He hands the knife to Dad and grabs Logan's hand, careful not to touch his claws.
He tries to move Logan's hand like a knife, but Logan pulls his claws back in.
"Hey!" Harry frowns. "How am I going to cut it now?!"
Dad silently hands the knife back. Harry scowls and slices little splinters off it.
Dad makes this look a lot more fun. And a lot faster.
Once Harry's had enough, Dad stands up and leaves the room. He comes back with a bar of soap, and Harry scowls.
"I'm not even dirty."
"Try carving this." Dad says. "It should be easier."
Harry wrinkles his nose. He doesn't want to carve soap.
Maybe Mr. Stark has a special knife that makes cutting wood easier.
Mr. Stark's in the lab, wearing his own goggles. He listens as Harry describes how everyone can cut wood easier than he can.
"Bring it here." Stark says. "I've got the perfect solution."
Harry runs back for his block. When he returns to the lab, he expects to see Mr. Stark holding a knife that's as good as Logan's claws, but Mr. Stark just gestures to a little table.
"Put it here. What are we making?"
"A trophy."
"Out of wood?" Mr. Stark asks, surprised. "C'mon, we can do better than that."
Mr. Stark pulls out a block of metal. It's so heavy Harry can barely lift it. He taps it. Cutting through wood is hard enough. There's no way he can cut through that.
Mr. Stark pulls Harry back. He's wearing his own goggles, and suddenly, laser beams start cutting through the metal block, shaping it into a trophy. It glows brighter than other metal, and Mr. Stark says they have to wait for it to cool down.
"Why waste time whittling like Gepetto?" Mr. Stark asks, one of his weird names for Dad, like how he calls Harry "Oliver".
That still didn't help Harry make it into anything. Mr. Stark always says making things is the best part about being Iron Man, but Harry still hasn't made anything.
Harry takes his block of wood back and leaves the lab. Passing through the kitchen, he sees Doctor Banner cutting veggies.
Harry pulls up a stool and climbs up to watch. Then he pushes the stool to grab a pear from the fruit bowl, and another knife from the drawer.
"Knives aren't toys." Doctor Banner tells him.
"Dad's teaching me how." Harry says. He looks at the pear, which is sort of shaped like a trophy when he turns it upside-down.
Harry tries to cut a hole in the bottom of the pear, which is now the top. He's eating the parts he cut out when Jubilee walks in the kitchen.
"Practicing for Halloween?" she asks. Harry stares at her, and she says "You know, carving pumpkins."
"This isn't a pumpkin." Harry tells her, thinking she should know that.
Sirius walks in the room and pulls out his wand. "It could be."
"No!" Harry almost shouts. "I want to do it! I'm big enough!"
Sirius shrugs and puts his wand away.
Harry tries to cut away part of the bottom to make the stem of the cup, then realizes he could just eat it instead. He eats to the core.
Grinning, Harry holds his pear cup up.
He charges back to Dad, who's on the couch with Logan. "Dad, look! I made you a trophy! It's for the Pear Olympics, 'cos Grandpa'fessor said you'd beat him in those!"
Harry crashes into Dad's legs and climbs onto his lap. "Here, Dad, you win the Pear Olympics!"
Dad takes the trophy gently in his hands. He even smiles as he looks at it. "Good job," he says, and ruffles Harry's hair.
"I can make another for Grandpa'fessor." Harry says.
Logan snorts, but he doesn't say anything about participation trophies this time. Instead, he mutters to Dad "So, we ain't going to tell him it's Paralympics?"
I went to some intro to whittling event at a community center when I was in high school. I gave it up as soon as I got home, so I think Harry actually did better than I did.