It took Hermione another whole day to wake up. Steve and Bucky took turns to wait next to her bed, not wanting her to wake up alone in the hospital room. During the long hours he spent looking at her, Bucky found himself wondering things about her.

Which colour her eyes were. How her voice sounded –Fury had told them she was British, so she probably had an accent. How she'd react. What she'd want to do once reality settled in.

When she finally opened her eyes, Steve had gone out of the room to speak to Sharon and Bucky was alone with her.

Her eyes were brown, he noticed. And looked terrified.

When she finally posed her eyes in him, she sat suddenly, clutching the sheets and trying to move as far away from him as possible. Bucky could hear her heart racing. He tried not to be offended by her reaction.

"Who are you?" she spoke, her accent obvious. "And where am I?"

Bucky stood up, his hands up in front of him, where she could see them. He saw the way her eyes flickered to his metal arm, and willed himself not to move it suddenly, not wanting to scare her even more.

"My name is Bucky," his voice sounded much more calmed that he felt. "You are in a hospital room, because you were badly injured when we found you."

"Where did you find me?"

On my lap, he wanted to answer, although it was probably not a good idea.

"In the park," he decided to say. "You were unconscious, and covered in blood. My friend and I brought you were."

She narrowed her eyes. "Where is here?"

Bucky sighed, and prepared himself for her reaction. "New York."

To her credit, Hermione covered her shock pretty well. Her eyes widened a little, and he could hear her heart racing even more, but she didn't move, didn't say anything that gave away how incredibly confused and scared she felt.

"I'm… a little far away from home," she said, at last.

You have no idea, Bucky thought.

"When can I go? I should probably find a way to contact my friends, they must be worried."

His heart broke. How was he supposed to tell her that her friends had gone for the last nineteen years thinking she was dead?

"What day is it?" she asked.

Well, crap. "May 3rd."

She relaxed a little. "Oh, well, it's only been a day, then. Thank Mer… Thank God."

Bucky stilled. Was he supposed to tell her then that it had been actually twenty years? He wished Steve were there, he was probably better suited to explain that than he was. Steve wasn't there, though, and that girl deserved to know the truth.

Here goes nothing. "It's May 3rd… of 2018."

Hermione blinked. Then tilted her head to the side. Then blinked again.

"May 3rd… of 2018," she repeated. "We are in the twenty-first century."

Bucky would have laughed, had not the situation been so delicate. "We are."

"I'm in New York, in 2018," she stated again.

"You are," Bucky nodded.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then. And Bucky found himself feeling a little wary of that look. It reminded him a little too much at the look Natasha gave him or any of the other Avengers before lashing out at them.

"You look like you're expecting me to freak out," she accused him. "So you probably know I should not be in New York. In 2018."

He wondered how many more times she was going to repeat that.

"Are you going to freak out?" Bucky asked, lamely.

Hermione blinked again. "I don't know."

"I know your name is Hermione Granger," he admitted. "And I know the last time you were seen was in Scotland, in 1998."

She nodded. "I've been missing for twenty years."

"I'm sorry," he offered.

"Are you… like me?"

Bucky knew what she was asking. "I don't have a wand."

"But you know about wizards and witches."

"Not until yesterday. You… you are taking this surprisingly well."

Hermione sighed. "Sadly, this is not the weirdest thing that's even happened to me."

Bucky could totally understand that.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

The door opened then. Bucky froze, his eyes fixated in Hermione, worried the sudden appearance of another person would finally make her snap. She stayed still, though, her eyes on the door.

Steve's mouth hanged comically opened when he realized Hermione had finally woken up, and he stopped on his tracks, looking at her as if he didn't know quite well what to do next.

So much for knowing what to do in these situations, Bucky thought.

"Punk, this is Hermione Granger," he finally broke the silence. "Hermione, this is my friend Steve Rogers. He was with me when we found you."

Steve cleared his throat. "A pleasure, ma'am."

Hermione arched her brows. "I'm from the nineties."

The comment broke the tension, and made Bucky laugh. Steve blushed, but laughed at the comment as well.

"He's not," he explained Hermione.

Something seemed to click in Hermione's mind then. She looked at Steve, her mouth as opened as his had been before.

"Steve Rogers?" she asked him. "As in… the Steve Rogers?"

Steve nodded, blushing even more. "You know about our history?"

"I wasn't born in the magical world," Hermione explained. "I went to a non-magical school for a few years, and I studied World War 2. You crashed your plane into the ice."

"And I stayed there, frozen, for nearly seventy years."

Hermione winced. "That's… a long time."

"I'm sorry you know so well how it feels like," Steve told her, clearly sensing he'd already explained to her the situation.

Hermione turned to look at him, then. "You said your name's Bucky."

"Bucky Barnes," he confirmed.

Her eyes widened. "James Buchanan Barnes." Bucky nodded in confirmation. "You fell from a train."

"I lived."

"You were frozen, too?"

He flinched. "Sort of."

Hermione seemed to understand she'd touch a delicate topic, because she didn't ask any more questions about it. He was immensely thankful for it.

"Is that the reason you're the ones here?"

They both nodded.

"You don't need to make any decisions now," Steve assured her. "But you might want to think what you want to do next."

Hermione sighed. "You mean if I want to contact my friends?" Steve nodded. "What's the official version of what happened to me?"

"You disappeared on May 2nd, 1998. The looked for you for a whole year, and you were declared officially dead on May 2nd, 1999."

"How did…" she gulped. "How did the war end?"

Steve smiled. "Your side won."

Hermione sagged on the bed, small tears gathering around her eyes. "He did it. He finally killed the bastard."

The urge to approach her and offer his comfort was strong, but Bucky forced himself to stay where he was. She didn't know him, had no reason to trust him, even if she seemed comfortable in his presence. He couldn't just go to her and hug her, much that he wanted to, to his immense surprise.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked her.

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to remember. "I was… fighting. I got separated from my friend, and there were two wands pointing at me," she explained. "The spells… they crashed into each other, and then they hit me. I remember a light so bright it blinded me, and then… nothing."

"There was a light when you appeared here, too," Steve told her. "When the light was gone, you were already on Buck's arms."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I fell into your arms?"

He'd never wanted to kill Steve so much in his life. "Yeah."

"How embarrassing," she blushed. "I'm sorry."

Steve seemed to be trying very hard to contain his laughter. Bucky didn't think even the Winter Soldier would have been so happy to kill the man as he wanted to, in that moment.

"Don't worry about it," Bucky calmed her.

Steve sobered up quickly. "About your friends…"

Quickly gaining her composure, Hermione stayed silent a few minutes, thinking about Steve's question. To any person, reaching out to old friends and reunite with them would be the obvious answer. He and Steve knew better, though. Sometimes a little time to process changes on your own before been subjected to them in the form of your past coming back to show you just how much you've lost was needed.

"Can I… take a little more time?" she asked finally. "I want to see my friends, obviously, but…"

"You can take all the time you need," Steve promised her.

She nodded, smiling thankfully. "Am I in a hospital?"

"You're in Stark Tower," Steve explained. "We live here, and you can stay for as long as you want. There's someone who would like to meet you, though."

She looked at him, confused.

"Not someone from your past," he clarified. "My… boss, sort of. He's the one who told us who you are. He works for S.H.I.E.L.D., I don't know if you know what that is."

Hermione nodded. "I've read about it. S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about us, too, so I guess that makes sense."

"You don't have to meet him right away," Bucky intervened. "You still need to recover from your injuries, and probably have some rest. He can wait a few days to meet you."

Steve nodded. "Of course."

Hermione seemed relieved at that. "Thank you. Are you… are you sure I can stay here?"

"Totally sure," Steve confirmed. "My friend owns the building."

"Stark Tower," she exclaimed. "As in Howard Stark? Is he…?"

Bucky shook his head. "He's dead," he winced, remembering how he died. "His son, Tony, is the owner of the building."

She nodded in understanding. And she looked suddenly very tired.

"Get some rest," Bucky told her. "We'll come back later to see how you're doing. You're safe here. No one will bother you."

"I… I could use some sleep," she admitted. "Thank you."

He and Steve left the room when Hermione laid back on the bed, preparing herself to sleep again. When he closed the door behind him, Steve was already looking questioningly at him.

"You okay, Buck?"

"Yeah. Just… I'm a little worried that she reacted so… well."

Steve nodded. "I was expecting her to be in the middle of a panic attack," he admitted. "I almost had one, and I knew when I crashed my plane that there was a possibility I wouldn't see my friends ever again. She was just there, fighting with her friends, and suddenly… gone. You're worried that she hasn't fully understand what's happened yet?"

"I'm a little more worried about the fallout when she does."

He just hoped he could helped her. He had no idea why, but helping Hermione Granger was suddenly the only thing he could think about.

And her eyes. They were brown and big. And he liked them quite a lot.

A/N. Shock makes people react in funny ways. It's also a slow process. There will be more to it.

The length of the chapters will vary. These first two were a little introductory, so I didn't want to put much information into them, but the rest of them will be longer.