The Concord House had opinions about parties.

Kendis knew that because the moment she stepped into the foyer with a tray of champagne flutes floating behind her, the lights warmed by exactly two degrees, the plants on the console table perked up like nosy aunties, and the dark chevron floors gleamed like the house had buffed itself out of pure vanity.

Tony noticed too, because of course he did.

He stood beside her in a charcoal suit with the sleeves rolled up, looking expensive, smug, and far too proud of himself. “House is showing off.”

Kendis handed him a glass without looking at him. “You built a technologically advanced mansion on top of a magical land spirit with emotional attachment issues. What did you expect?”

“I expected exactly this,” Tony said, taking the glass. “I just enjoy being right.”

Kendis glanced toward the front door as the first wave of guests gathered in the foyer: Pepper looking effortlessly elegant and already scanning for fire hazards, Rhodey beside her with the resigned expression of a man who had known Tony too long, Happy hovering near the door like he planned to personally fight anyone who tracked mud inside. Ho Yinsen stood slightly back, soft-eyed and amused, taking in the room with the quiet wonder that still made Kendis’s chest ache.

Dum-E, U, and Butterfingers rolled in behind Tony in a chaotic little parade. Dum-E had a party hat taped to his claw. U carried a tray of napkins like a solemn little butler. Butterfingers was already too close to a potted plant.

“No,” Tony said without turning.

Butterfingers froze.

Kendis hid her smile behind her glass. There were many things about Tony that made her fall in love with him: his kindness, his loyalty, even when he had every reason to run, but the thing that clinched the deal was how he loved his bots. For all of his complaints, his love for JARVIS, Dum-E, U, and Butterfingers was one of the best parts of her husband, and she treasured every moment she got to witness Tony being an unapologetic bot dad.

Her gaze traveled to the door as the rest of her friends arrived. The group arrived in clusters. Hermione Granger came in with Ron and Arthur and Molly Weasley, all of them staring at the foyer with different flavors of alarm, curiosity, and judgment. Molly had already brought food because of course she had, and Kendis was not foolish enough to tell that woman she did not need to.

Her cousin Tristan and his lover James could not make the trip because of work, and her Aunt Dahlia and her wife and partner unfortunately could not make the trip to California on such short notice. But Tristan did send her an espresso machine that looked like something out of NASA, and Dahlia sent her a beautiful wind chime for her garden.

However, Ian and Jason came. Ian was all sunshine and mischief as usual, while Jason was an ocean of tired calm. Ian was a ball of energy, his smile wide and bright as his sharp, intelligent eyes traveled across the foyer.

Jason walked over to Kendis and hugged her. “It’s finally done.”

Kendis laughed and playfully shoved him away, “It was only six weeks.”

“From what I hear?” Ian practically skipped over to her and hugged her. “It was an eternity.”

Lana could not make it because she had a shift at work, but Kimberly came in holding a pretty succulent that Kendis immediately knew the best place for.

Then Jarod and Miss Parker entered like they were casing the place, though Jarod at least had the decency to look delighted about it. Miss Parker looked at the mirror, the curving console, the abstract artwork, and then at Tony.

“You designed this?”

Tony pointed at Kendis, “Partnership.”

Kendis pointed right back at him, “Compromise.”

Miss Parker’s mouth twitched, “That explains why it has taste.”

Pepper coughed into her champagne.

Wei Ying came through the door laughing, Lan Zhan calm at his side, both of them pausing when the foyer lights flickered once in greeting. Cristopher Dry and Jude Alvarez followed, Jude smiling softly while Cristopher looked up at the crown molding like he was determining whether the house had a surveillance state.

Eve Moneypenny swept in composed and sharp-eyed, and Richie Ryan came in behind her with an expression that said he had accepted three impossible things before breakfast and was ready for four more.

Dominic Toretto, Mia, Brian, and Letty came last, and Kendis had the private satisfaction of watching Dom’s entire face change when he saw the floors, the woodwork, the sightline to the lawn, and the solid front door.

He nodded once. “Good house.”

Kendis immediately decided the Concord House had just gained a favorite.

The foyer itself was exactly what she and Tony had fought, laughed, and compromised into existence. Blue-gray walls with box molding. Dark wood chevron floors. A long, elegant view toward the front door with tall glass panels framing green lawn and trees outside. On one side, the sculptural wooden console curved like something alive beneath a gold oval mirror; on the other, a rounded brown sofa sat under a bold painting of a Black figure wrapped in sweeping burnt-orange shapes. Plants softened the corners. Warm light made everything feel expensive, strange, and lived in.

Kendis clapped her hands once. “All right. Welcome to the Concord House. If the walls shift, the hallway stretches, or a room appears that Tony did not build, please do not scream unless something is actively biting you.”

Ron froze. “Sorry, what?”

Hermione’s eyes sharpened. “Rooms appear?”

Tony lifted his glass. “Tour rule number one: don’t encourage the house.”

The overhead light flickered.

Kendis sighed. “It likes encouragement.”

Arthur Weasley looked delighted. “Marvelous.”

Pepper looked less delighted. “Is there a safety protocol for the sentient architecture?”

“Several,” Tony said.

Kendis muttered, “Most of them are bribes.”

The lights flickered again, smugly.

She began the tour before the house got any more dramatic.

They moved first into the front lounge, and Kendis loved the way everyone slowed when they crossed the threshold.

The room opened up tall and bright, all floor-to-ceiling black-framed windows facing the green lawn, warm wood floors, a long clean-lined fireplace set into pale stone, and a wall of bookshelves glowing softly at the far end. The furniture was low, plush, cream and rust and warm brown, with rounded edges and enough seating for a crowd without looking like a hotel lobby. The rug looked abstract and modern, but the colors made it feel warm instead of cold. Plants stood near the windows, because Kendis had insisted the house needed green things inside to match the green things outside.

Tony had called it “biophilic integration.”

Kendis had called it “not living like a billionaire in a toothpaste commercial.”

“This is the front lounge,” she said. “Formal enough for guests. Comfortable enough that I will not yell if you sit down.”

“Please tell me you have dirt-repelling charms on the sofas,” Molly said with disapproval, her eyes traveling pointedly to where Alke was lying on the rug.

Happy narrowed his eyes at the cream sofa. “Are people allowed to eat in here?”

“No,” Pepper, Tony, and Kendis said together.

Dum-E raised his claw.

“You especially no,” Tony added.

Wei Ying immediately flopped onto one of the chairs with shameless delight. “Rich people furniture is dangerous. It makes you want to nap.”

Lan Zhan looked at him.

Wei Ying smiled up at him. “I am appreciating the craftsmanship.”

Miss Parker walked along the bookshelves, heels silent against the floor. “This is the room where you pretend you’re normal.”

Kendis grinned. “Exactly.”

Tony put a hand over his heart. “I pretend to be normal beautifully.”

Rhodey snorted, “You pretend to be normal like a raccoon wearing sunglasses.”

Kendis nearly choked on her champagne.

The Concord House dimmed the lights around Rhodey for half a second, like a spotlight of approval.

“Do not encourage him either,” Tony warned the ceiling.

From there, they moved into the dining room.

Kendis had known the dining room would make an impression, but she still felt a private, ridiculous bloom of pride when everyone stepped inside and went quiet.

The room was long and elegant, with tall black-framed windows along one side looking over the lawn. A huge polished wood table dominated the space, the grain rippling like water, supported by sculptural looping legs that looked almost impossible until you touched them.

The chairs were curved wood with pale cushions, arranged for a dinner party that could probably become a summit if anyone got dramatic enough. A green abstract painting anchored the far wall, brass-and-globe lighting floated overhead, and a curved wood cabinet stood along the side like it had been carved by someone who understood both beauty and storage.

Molly Weasley made a small sound.

Kendis turned, bracing herself for either praise or a lecture.

Molly’s eyes were misty. “Oh, this is a proper family table.”

That hit Kendis harder than expected. She was an orphan who had always been forced to watch from the cupboard while Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and her cousin Dudley sat at the table looking like the perfect family, eating the food she had made while Kendis was left inside her cupboard with scraps.

Hearing Molly say that touched the needy little orphan who still lived inside her.

Tony’s hand brushed the small of her back, there and gone, subtle enough that no one else needed to make anything of it.

“You finally get to hold those big dinner parties you always wanted,” Ian said, giving her a soft smile.

Kendis did not reply because she knew she was already way too close to crying as it was.

“It expands,” Kendis said. She coughed and then pointed to the walls. “The room does too, when needed.”

Ron stared down the length of the table. “This gets bigger?”

“Much bigger,” Kendis said.

Hermione gave her a look. “How much bigger?”

Kendis shrugged. “Depends how many people the house thinks need feeding.”

Mia smiled, soft and knowing. “So it’s a family room pretending to be a dining room.”

Kendis liked her immediately all over again. “Pretty much.”

Dom ran one hand over the back of a chair, careful and respectful. “Table like this means people come back.”

Tony glanced up as the room warmed. “Was that the house, or did I just have a feeling?”

“Both,” Lan Zhan said calmly.

No one questioned how he knew.

Arthur was examining the light fixture with almost religious fascination. “And the chandelier doesn’t interfere with the expansion?”

“Not after the second test,” Tony said.

Pepper closed her eyes. “There was a second test?”

Kendis decided not to mention the first chandelier had attempted to migrate into the soup.

“Moving on,” she said brightly.

The infirmary was next, and Kendis felt the mood shift before they reached the door.

It still unsettled her a little, that room. Not because it was bad, but because it had not been part of the original plan. The Concord House had revealed it like a secret it had been waiting to tell, and Kendis still did not know what to do with being loved by a house that prepared for everyone’s blood before anyone spilled it.

The door opened into light.

The infirmary was spacious, bright, and almost impossibly clean without feeling sterile. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over trees and grass. Patient beds lined one side, separated by warm wood accents and privacy panels. The surgery suite sat behind glass, pristine and terrifyingly advanced, with overhead surgical lights and monitors. A holographic medical station glowed blue-white near the front, displaying a human anatomy model that rotated slowly above the console.

Hermione stopped dead.

Ho Yinsen stepped forward with the reverence of a doctor entering a place that understood purpose.

Pepper whispered, “Tony.”

Tony’s expression had gone still in that way Kendis recognized. His mind was already cataloging power systems, redundancies, emergency routes, surgical tools, infection protocols, and all the ways a room like this meant he could fail less often.

“I didn’t build this,” he said quietly.

That silenced everyone.

Kendis crossed her arms, not defensive exactly, but close. “The house made it.”

Ron looked alarmed. “The house made a hospital?”

“Infirmary,” Kendis corrected. “And yes.”

Jude’s gaze softened as they looked around the room. “It made room for care.”

Cristopher, who had been quiet for too long, said, “And containment.”

Kendis nodded once. She appreciated that he saw it. “Quarantine-capable. It’s reinforced if needed, but it’s also consent-based because this is not a prison.”

Miss Parker looked through the glass into the surgical suite. For once, there was no sarcasm in her face. “Someone thought ahead.”

“The house did,” Kendis said.

The lights pulsed once.

Dum-E rolled closer to the holographic console.

Tony pointed at him. “No.”

Dum-E lowered his claw.

Butterfingers tried to reverse into a chair and bumped it.

“Also no,” Tony said.

Kendis watched Molly put a hand over her mouth, eyes traveling over the beds, the clean linens, the warm wood, the windows. She knew Molly was thinking of children, battles, war, all the places healing had been too late.

Yinsen looked at Kendis. “This is a gift.”

Kendis swallowed. “Yeah.”

Tony’s hand found hers this time, no pretending. She squeezed back.

Then Wei Ying ruined the emotional weight by leaning toward the hologram and saying, “Can it show ghosts?”

“No,” Tony said.

“Can you make it show ghosts?”

“No.”

Wei Ying smiled. “That was not a no forever.”

Lan Zhan said, “Wei Ying.”

Kendis loved them, she really did.

The library came after, and the moment the doors opened, Kendis felt the tour tilt from futuristic sanctuary into gothic indulgence.

The library rose in dark wood and warm light, two stories of bookshelves, carved arches, iron railings, and a sweeping staircase curling along the wall to the upper balcony. Tall windows let in green-filtered light from outside, but the room itself glowed amber and old, with leather sofas, deep chairs, patterned rugs, and the kind of atmosphere that made you want to read forbidden books and make questionable life choices.

Hermione made a noise that was almost indecent.

Ron looked at her, alarmed. “You all right?”

“No,” Hermione said faintly.

Kendis grinned. “This is the library.”

“No, this is a trap,” Hermione said, already walking toward the shelves. “This is specifically designed to ruin my schedule.”

Tony nodded. “We considered calling it the Hermione Granger Memorial Productivity Death Chamber.”

Kendis elbowed him.

“She’s not dead,” Ron said.

“Her free time is,” Miss Parker said, accepting a glass of champagne from a floating tray as if she had been born expecting magical service.

Jarod looked delighted by the balcony. “Secret passageways?”

Kendis looked him dead in the eye. “Do not ask questions you are too talented to exploit.”

Jarod’s smile widened.

Miss Parker pointed at him without looking. “No.”

“But—”

“No.”

Richie wandered toward one of the leather chairs and dropped into it with a sigh. “This room feels like it should come with a haunted portrait.”

“It probably does,” Kendis said. “We just haven’t found it yet.”

Arthur had found a rolling ladder and was looking at it with the same wonder he usually reserved for plugs. “Ingenious.”

“Arthur,” Molly warned.

He took his hand off it but only just barely.

Wei Ying peered up toward the second level. “This room knows secrets.”

Kendis glanced at the shelves, at the carved balcony, at the places where shadows gathered softly instead of threateningly. “Yes.”

Lan Zhan looked at her, and she had the uncomfortable sense he understood more than she had said.

Tony leaned close. “You’re doing that thing where you have feelings and pretend they’re interior design opinions.”

Kendis kept smiling at the room. “You’re doing that thing where you talk too much for a man standing within stabbing distance.”

He kissed her temple, completely unbothered. “There she is.”

The gym shifted the energy again.

The room opened wide and warm, wood floors gleaming under soft recessed lighting, a slatted wood ceiling running overhead, and tall windows looking out over the lawn. One side held treadmills, bikes, weights, benches, and racks of equipment. The other opened into a padded sparring area, clean and spacious, with shelves for yoga mats, medicine balls, and training gear. It was upscale without being precious, practical without being ugly.

Letty’s eyes lit up first.

Kendis noticed, because she always noticed women looking at spaces where they could be dangerous in peace.

“This is the gym and sparring room,” Kendis said. “Cardio, weights, mobility, hand-to-hand, weapons practice if properly supervised, and no, Tony, the repulsor gauntlets do not count as gym equipment.”

Tony opened his mouth.

“No.”

He closed it.

Rhodey laughed. “That was preemptive.”

“That was marriage,” Pepper said.

Dom walked toward the weights with respectful interest. Brian looked at the sparring mats. Mia checked the windows and exits, which Kendis respected. Letty stepped onto the mats and rolled her shoulders like she had already decided she would be back.

Cristopher’s attention went to the equipment layout. “Good sightlines.”

Jude nodded. “And enough open space that people won’t feel boxed in.”

Kendis gave them both a small smile. “That was intentional.”

Happy eyed the sparring area. “Is this where people are going to get hurt?”

“This is where people are going to get hurt less than they would elsewhere,” Kendis said.

Ron stared at the equipment. “Do you lot schedule fights?”

Tony shrugged. “Sometimes they schedule themselves.”

Wei Ying brightened. “That is the best kind.”

Lan Zhan’s expression suggested he had never once believed that in his life.

Dum-E rolled onto the edge of the mat.

“No sparring,” Tony said.

Dum-E raised his claw.

“You cannot fight Letty.”

Letty looked over. “I mean…”

“No,” Kendis and Tony said together.

Butterfingers somehow beeped in disappointment.

By the time they reached the mudroom, Kendis was already grinning because she knew this room was going to be divisive.

The mudroom was enormous and beautiful in a deeply practical way, with dark built-ins, brass hooks, storage baskets, a long cushioned bench, gray tile floors, stone counters, and multiple shower stalls lined across the far wall. There were sinks, hampers, boot storage, towel drawers, decontamination features Tony had insisted on naming something dramatic, and enough space for a small army to come in filthy and leave marginally less disgusting.

Happy stopped in the doorway. “This is a mudroom?”

Kendis spread her arms. “This is the mudroom.”

Rhodey snorted as he stared at the row of showers. “This is a locker room with delusions of grandeur.”

Tony looked offended. “It has excellent self-esteem.”

Molly walked in, inspecting the hooks, the benches, the storage. “Oh, this is sensible.”

Kendis beamed. “Thank you.”

Pepper looked at the showers. “Why are there so many?”

Kendis and Tony exchanged a look.

Ian sighed. “Monster fights?”

“Monster fights,” Kendis confirmed.

Ron made a strangled noise. “How often are you fighting monsters?”

“More than we should,” Tony said.

“Less than it feels like,” Kendis added.

Miss Parker ran one finger along the counter and found no dust. “I hate that this is impressive.”

Jarod opened one of the drawers and found neatly folded towels. “Labeled by contamination level.”

Cristopher leaned in. “That is either deeply paranoid or deeply earned.”

“Yes,” Kendis said.

Wei Ying pointed toward the showers. “Can they remove corpse smell?”

Lan Zhan closed his eyes.

The entire room paused.

Tony turned very slowly. “Do I want context?”

“No,” several people said.

The Concord House chose that moment to turn on one shower for half a second and then turn it off.

Kendis looked at the ceiling. “You are not helping.”

The lights flickered, pleased with itself.

Mia was laughing quietly. Letty looked like she approved. Dom nodded again, as if the mudroom had confirmed his original assessment of the house. Arthur was examining the drainage system with reverent curiosity. Molly had already mentally assigned everyone hooks. Pepper looked like she was updating three emergency manuals in her head. Happy looked relieved that at least one room understood mess.

Ian and Wei Ying were examining the laundry chute while Jason pulled one of the baskets out of the cubby hole.

Kendis stood there with Tony beside her, their friends and family spread across the mudroom, bots beeping underfoot, magic humming in the walls, and the strange warmth of the Concord House wrapped around all of them like the building itself had leaned closer to listen.

She had spent so much of her life expecting homes to be temporary, conditional, complicated things.

This one kept making more room.

Tony’s shoulder brushed hers. “You okay?”

Kendis looked at the gathered chaos. Hermione and Arthur were discussing plumbing. Now Ron was loudly trying to understand why corpse smell had been mentioned. Wei Ying was absolutely not helping. Miss Parker was pretending not to be charmed by the towel system. Yinsen and Pepper were quietly discussing the infirmary. Rhodey was warning Dum-E not to challenge Letty to anything. Molly was telling Butterfingers he was a sweet little thing, which was dangerous encouragement. Dom, Mia, Brian, and Letty had settled into the room like people who understood that family came with dirt, blood, engines, and loyalty.

Kendis let herself breathe.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m okay.”

Tony smiled at her, warm and private. “Good party?”

The house lights glowed gold.

Kendis laughed despite herself. “Apparently, the house thinks so.”

Then Molly Weasley clapped her hands and announced that everyone needed to eat before the food got cold, even though half the food had been charmed warm and the other half was being monitored by JARVIS.

The entire group obeyed anyway.

Kendis watched them file out of the mudroom and back toward the heart of the house, loud and impossible and alive. Tony stayed beside her. The bots followed in a crooked little line. Somewhere in the walls, the Concord House hummed, pleased and proud.

Kendis touched the doorframe once as she passed.

“Show-off,” she murmured, but she could not quite repress a smile.

The lights flickered.

And this time, Kendis shook her head at the beautiful sentient house because, in the end, she knew that Concordia had every right to be proud of herself.