So... here we are. This will be the sequel to Faultlines. As of now I am planning about 19 chapters, but that might change.
I am sorry this took so long, I've been having some serious health problems and it has all been quite a struggle.

Adding to that, this story didn't feel right to me for a long time. Faultlines was done, but I decided to add some chapters and they felt weird and tugged on. THat's why I took those two last chapters as the beginning of the new story. My lovely Beta and I have been discussing this story for months now, nothing felt right. Nothing made us happy. Now, finally, we think we found the answer of how to make this a story and not just an appendix.
I didn't want to write this story and regret it later... I don't know when I'll be able to finish this, but it will lead right up to Infinity War and then we will see :) Thank you, to those that are still here... and whoever might stumble onto it now.

Magic

"Filthy intruders! Scum!"

Bucky Barnes woke with a start, his metal arm outstretched and a knife in hand.

Where was he again? Right. Harry Stark's magical safe house.

Much more undressed than he would have liked, Bucky hurried downstairs to find Harry and an unknown woman pulling at some curtains he had only walked past the night before.

"So sorry, Harry.", the woman sighed, when they both let go and turned around to look at each other.

"Don't worry. It happens to all of us and we really should get up anyway. Morning, Bucky."

"Morning.", Bucky mumbled back.

"Hermione, this is Mr Bucky Barnes. Bucky, this is my sister Hermione Weasley."

"Nice to meet you.", Mrs Weasley smiled at him, not really waiting for a reply but holding up a small bag, "I brought breakfast."

"You are a HERO.", Harry smiled, "The kitchen it is. You coming, Bucky?"

"No.", he mumbled, "I'll get dressed first."

"Great.", Mrs Weasley smiled warmly, reached into her bag and for some very strange reason (having nothing to do with logic or physics) vanished her whole arm into it, before coming up with a bag that was BIGGER than the one it was supposed to have fit into, "I brought this for you. Clothes."

He took the bag on instinct and blinked at her, but she didn't seem to notice, instead waving at him and making her way to the kitchen, Harry following close behind, talking about how Alec had petitioned his father for a cat.

On his way back up, Bucky walked past Steve, Clint and Sam, awake and slightly nosy looking.

"What? Why was I the only one going down to check for danger?"

"Because this is a magically protected home and every danger would have to come from WITHIN. Better to leave that to Harry.", Clint shrugged, "I am not letting some… pixie eat my face off."

"What was it?", Sam asked.

"Curtains."

"Sounds… why do I even ask? Magic.", Sam gave up.

"Did I hear someone else?", Steve continued instead.

"Harry's sister."

"Since when do the Starks have a sister?", Clint looked confused.

"I am guessing her last name was Weasley?", Steve looked at Bucky for confirmation, who nodded, "Then she's one of Harry's sisterd-in-law."

"She brought breakfast. In the kitchen. If you are hungry."

"Cap is always hungry.", Clint yawned, "I'll go and wake the others."

Bucky hurried back into his new room and ripped open the bag, only to find what looked like… robes. Way too used to strangeness to really care anymore, he got dressed and made his way down for breakfast. The others were all already there and (Bucky noted with a strange sense of glee) dressed in their fighting clothes from the day before. Except for Harry, who had also apparently found the time to dress and was (just like Bucky) clad in long robes.

Scott stared at him, open-mouthed, roll in hand.

"Rocking the wizarding look.", Harry grinned, "I had almost forgotten how comfortable these are."

"I could say something snippy here, but why would I?", Mrs Weasley raised an eyebrow, but her smile gave the whole exchange a teasing tone.

"We have an hour before we need to leave, so sit down and get some food in.", Harry told him, his gaze leisurely returning to a newspaper lying on the table in front of him. There was a moving picture on its front page. A moving picture of a much younger looking Harry.

Clint seemed to notice the picture at the same time that Bucky did.

"Why are you in the papers today?", he asked worriedly, as Bucky sat down and grabbed a plate.

"Not important.", Harry growled and put the paper in his front pocket.

Mrs Weasley gave him an annoyed look.

"Secrecy is not helpful here.", she chastised, "We have very strict rules about the exposure of our world. Some… and I really mean SOME members of our community are worried about the fact that Harry used his powers to intervene in a non-magical matter."

"It could have affected the magical community as well. I thought.", Steve sounded confused.

"Yes. And no. It SHOULD have affected us, but no one was really worried. We do not recognize any form of Muggle authority and… well… there is a certain lack of means to enforce a law we don't want to accept. Secrecy is a now integral part of our identity. It would be hard to give that up and we will not subject our children to that danger.", Mrs Weasley explained.

"Do wizards have that much power? I mean… I saw Harry in action, so…", Clint looked at her with so much interest, Bucky suspected he had wanted to ask those question for years, but Harry apparently wasn't the most forthcoming man.

"Harry is an auror. You are.", she added, when the man in question snorted, "You are a trained auror. Whether you still work as one or not, is not the point. So to answer your question: No. You cannot expect every wizard to be NEARLY as trained as Harry, but we are numerous. And there is a whole group of these well-trained fighters. Even if not, there are a lot of other magical creatures very capable and willing to fight something that could potentially infringe on their rights. We are a slow-moving community. You will not get us to change our ways in a matter of months or a few years."

There was a deep, thoughtful silence after that.

"You won't get into trouble for helping us, right?", Steve asked, his voice so guilty, Bucky almost felt guilty by proxy. Well… more guilty than he already did.

"No.", Harry told him sharply and no one dared to ask anything else.

"How are we getting to the hospital?", Steve asked five minutes later.

"We are not.", Harry told him, his face apologetic, "Bucky and I will go by ourselves."

"What? Why?"

"Because getting permission for ONE non-magical person to enter was already tough enough.", Mrs Weasley explained, "Had anyone but Harry asked, they would never have said yes. And with the added controversy of Harry's little… private show of power, we'll just not try our luck. For now."

"Don't worry.", Harry winked at Bucky, "We'll find the way just fine."

Bucky was actually fine with that. Steve, he noticed, looked more uncomfortable.

"Doesn't mean you can't visit him sometime. Or that he can't leave, if he wants to.", Harry smiled at Steve.

"Will there be many other patients?", Bucky asked, trying to hide the gloomy feeling in his chest.

"You'll be in the closed ward. Don't worry. Only long term patients there.", Mrs Weasley explained, "Not much coming and going there."

That wasn't really what Bucky had been concerned about, but he chose not to ask further.

Breakfast was quiet and… strange. Not that Bucky minded. He enjoyed the peace and...well… mondanity. It was a bit like he remembered breakfast back… before. When the Howling Commandos would sit together after a fight, bloodied and tired, but required to take care of their bodies.

When Harry proclaimed they'd have to leave, Steve gave Bucky a warm hug, the others stood around nodding at him and Wanda grinned and said: "The magical world is fun. Don't worry… just go with it."

Ominous statement.

But Bucky's life had become a never ending parade of weird, horrifying and, yes, ominous a long time ago. At some point he'd had to accept that. And to go with whatever life threw at you.

Like sitting in the subway next to Harry Stark, both of them wearing cloaks. Or the fact that no one really seemed to mind their strange attire.

Bucky stole a glance at Harry's face. Hydra had been EXTREMELY interested in the man. Who was he? Where had he come from? And where had he been hiding for so long?

No one had ever told him much. Of course not. That wasn't his job, after all. But he… remembered things. Small things. Because no one ever bothering to tell him anything also meant no one had ever really cared, if he DID hear something. Why would they? He wasn't… he wasn't a person. He didn't have a personality. Or awareness. He was a weapon. No one had been home.

Steve. Even within the mist and dark of everything, something within him had recognized Steve.

Steve. He had begun the process of chasing off the dark. He had brought back the spark of what was Bucky Barnes. The rest was now HIS responsibility.

They left the Tube and made their way through the busy London streets, until they reached an old, empty looking shop.

Harry winked at Bucky, before casually leaning towards one of the sad looking manikins and whispering something. A finger moved. Bucky blinked.

Just go with it.

Harry gestured at Bucky to follow and simply walked through the glass. Bucky (not eager to be left behind) followed on instinct. Harry was his only chance now anyway, so better not doubt the man.

There were people waiting for them on the other side.

"Oh look, the cavalry.", Harry sighed and raised an eyebrow at the tall, dark man in the front. He was flanked by two alert looking women. A man in limegreen robes was standing a little way to the left, studying them curiously.

"Good morning, Harry. Mr. Barnes.", the obvious leader responded with a careful smile.

"Morning, Kingsley.", Harry's voice sounded much more reserved, but after a second a bright smile flashed over his face, "It's been a while."

Bucky decided that this didn't look like his conversation at all and simply nodded in greeting.

"Three years, I think. Time just keeps going. How are the kids?"

"Bigger. Much bigger. Only two still left at home."

"I can't believe Teddy is already graduating. I feel old."

"You and me both.", Harry agreed, before taking another step and carefully hugging the older man.

Bucky couldn't hear what they told each other next, but he didn't particularly care to anyway. He was busy studying the man in lime green robes, who looked at the two old friends, unsure what was appropriate here, before he shook his head and walked up to Bucky.

"Mr Barnes? I am Healer Kremer. It is very nice to make your acquaintance."

Bucky took the offered hand, seemingly oblivious to the two woman watching him like hawks. Their main concern was definitely the safety of the man Harry had called Kingsley, but that didn't stop them from keeping a close watch on him. Bucky couldn't really fault them for it. He was dangerous after all. Which was exactly why he was there. And why he possibly shouldn't be. In a hospital, magical or not, he could do far more damage than he cared to think about.

"Apologies for being so rude.", Harry grumbled, "We are all too busy to see each other often. Bucky, Healer Kremer here agreed to try and help you. Hermione assured me, he was the best."

"I am.", Healer Kremer smiled brightly at them and Bucky felt a sudden jolt, reminded of the way Howard Stark had been the same, self assured sort of man. Howard. He could still feel his blood on his hand.

"Kingsley here is our Minister of Magic.", Harry continued, as if the healer hadn't said a thing, "And these two Aurors are Polly Liebermann and Claire Fox."

Aurors, Bucky remembered, like Harry had been.

They nodded at him, not unkindly but still on guard and Bucky did the same. Too many people. Way too many people. Why had he agreed to this?

So no one can use you again, that little voice that so suspiciously sounded like Steve, told him, so you can be you again.

Kingsley gave him a calculating stare, "We have a lot to discuss, Harry. I'll be waiting down here for you. Polly can…"

"Wait here as well.", Harry told him sharply and Kingsley raised an eyebrow.

"Very well."

"He was worried for the patients."; Bucky told Harry quietly, as they followed Healer Kremer up a flight of stairs, "And he was right to be."
Harry frowned at him in honest confusion.

"There are too many people here. I am a danger to each and every one of them."; Bucky explained. Harry opened his mouth to answer, when they walked through a door and found themselves in front of a middle-aged man with a bright smile and even brighter, still mostly blond hair.

Harry gave an unhappy sigh, Healer Kremer smiled almost indulgently, "Ah, Gilderoy, you shouldn't be out here right now. I seem to remember you have a painting appointment."

"But I have fans waiting. See? Do you have an autograph yet?", he addressed Bucky, who blinked in surprise.

"No?", he replied on instinct, more of a question towards Harry than anything else.

"And of course you came all this way to see me. Understandable. A true fan.", and without waiting for any kind of response, he reached for Bucky's metal arm.

Bucky felt himself go rigid. Everything slowed. He could hear his own breathing. Hear their breathing. His instincts kicked into gear. Later, he'd be ashamed to admit that he had no idea what could have happened, but the stranger's hand never actually made contact. It just stopped in mid-air.

"Gilderoy!", the healer's voice was sharp and Bucky noticed the wand in his hand, slightly raised. Gilderoy meanwhile was looking at his unmoving hand in wonder, "We do NOT touch people without their consent. Remember?"

"Yes. Right. Of course. Not even fans.", Gilderoy replied, his eyes still glued to his unmoving hand.

Bucky took a step back and inched closer towards Harry. Finally the stranger's hand went down and Healer Kremer put his wand away.

Gilderoy gave them a last, slightly dazed smile, before hurrying off.

They waited until he was out of sight.

"I apologize, Mr Barnes. He wasn't supposed to be here. But he is strangely sufficient in running away."

Harry made a strange, less than friendly sound in his throat, but didn't comment.

The healer's brow furrowed, turning towards Harry.

"I assure you, Mr Potter, Mr Lockhart is no danger to anyone."

This time Bucky was pretty sure the sound Harry was making was a suppressed laugh. Or gagging noises. It was really hard to tell.

Healer Kremer gave Harry another, disapproving look, but decided not to comment, instead turning back towards Bucky, "I specialize in problems relating to memory. Gilderoy is one of my long term patients."

"How long has he been here?", Bucky asked. How long could magic really need for anything?

"Oh, over 20 years. But don't worry.", he added, when he saw Bucky's shocked expression, "His case is in no way comparable to yours."

"Reassuring.", Bucky quietly whispered towards Harry, when they continued their walk.

"It is. Believe me.", his eyes were still somewhat clouded and Bucky expected some history there.

They reached a small, but sunny room. There was a bed, a table and chairs and a comfy looking armchair.

"This will be your room for now. Today we will get you settled and make an assessment of your situation. But that we will do privately.", Kremer gave Harry a pointed look.

"If you would give us a moment, I'd be happy to get out of your hair.", Harry replied. Healer Kremer nodded and closed the door behind himself, leaving Bucky and Harry in silence.

Harry plopped down on one of the chairs, reaching into the pocket of his cloak.

"They are good people here, mostly. They'll look after you."

"He used magic? To stop Gilderoy from touching me?"

"Yes."

"If I were to… they wouldn't let me hurt someone here."

"No. It might not be elegant, but if they really wanted to, they could even do something stupid like… letting you hover in the air. You are safe here. For everyone."

Bucky felt like there was a massive weight falling off his chest. He hadn't been that worried about getting hurt… but hurting somebody else… a patient…

"I will make sure Steve can come and visit soon, but I am told it's best to give you a moment to get settled, so that might be a week or two."

Bucky didn't answer. What was he supposed to say anyway?

"Phones don't work in here, but… there are other possibilities. You can ask to send an owl.", Harry slit a paper out of his pocket and put it on the table, "If something is wrong, I'll be here in a matter of minutes. Or if I am not available, Hermione will come. Or someone else I can trust. I am a paranoid bastard, so… if I send someone you don't know, they'll tell you Roonil Wazlib send them. So you know it was me."

"Roonil Wazlib.", Bucky repeated tonelessly.

Harry grinned.

"Yes. Such a lovely name."

Bucky strongly suspected a story behind it, but stopped himself from asking.

"You are not a prisoner here, Bucky, you can leave, if you want. Just so you know… this is to help you, not detain you."

"I know. Thank you."

Harry looked just as uncomfortable as Bucky felt. How… how was this conversation going to end?

"Okay!", Harry declared, overly cheery, "I will leave you to it then. Goodbye, Bucky. Get better."

Bucky nodded at him, when Harry walked past him and awkwardly patted his back. Then the door closed again and Bucky was left standing in his new room. In a magical hospital.