It took days jumping from one plane to the next, making detours and finally riding a car to get to what looked like a factory with its high chimneys puffing out smoke like a sailor's pipe. She estimated she was somewhere in the middle of Europe, but she could be off by several hundred miles. What she did know was that she was in deep trouble, but then again, she'd been ever since she set foot in Europe.

She was brought up to an office decorated in typical villain lavishness which actually reminded her of Malfoy Manor and she couldn't help but step off the lush carpet. It wasn't the same color as the one she had been tortured on by Bellatrix, but it certainly bore a similarity in its patterns and thickness.

"Ah, Fraulein Granger. So glad you could join me," his host said with what actually looked like a sincere smile.

"It's not like I had a choice. You're Johann Schmidt, aren't you?"

"Indeed. I'm honoured you recognize me."

"Know thy enemy."

"And know thyself," Schmidt smirked. "Which I most certainly do."

He motioned for her to sit down in the upholstered wingback chair which could have sat Hagrid with its ridiculous size. She hesitated so the guard behind her nudged her forward.

"None of that now, Hans. You may leave," Schmidt chided.

Her guard snapped his heels and walked out the door. She sat and stared at the man in front of her. One on one. Schmidt really did not think her a threat, and she supposed that without her wand, she really wasn't much of one.

"Tea?"

She snorted inelegantly.

"Something stronger, I reckon."

Schmidt served them whisky in twin crystal tumblers, then toasted his own glass in the air.

"To order," he said.

Not quite what she had been expecting.

"To your demise," she toasted back.

Schmidt chuckled and drank to it anyway, then tossed pictures her way.

"That is you, yes?" he asked as her eyes widened in surprise, because there she was in front of the Woolsworth building with her patronus in plain sight, lighting her features clearly in the dark.

She was perfectly recognizable. There was no denying it was her, but she checked every one of them to make sure Steve wasn't identifiable. Relieved he was safe, she considered whether to say it was only a trick of the light, but dismissed the idea because Schmidt's men would no doubt have told him about her other feats of magic during the battle in Norway.

"How did you get these?"

"We have eyes everywhere, Fraulein, although I'll admit this was more likely a stroke of luck. I would, however, like to hear your story. You are truly a mystery "

She tossed the pictures back on the opulent desk and downed her whisky. Liquid courage. She feared she would need it very soon.

"All the whisky in the world wouldn't loosen my tongue."

Nor would torture. If Bellatrix had failed using the cruciatus and a cursed blade, she doubted this Hitler flunky would succeed with muggle means.

"Interesting. You do not fear. Now, I want your story even more, and I always get what I want."

From then on, for days on end they isolated her, then tried sleep deprivation, lack of food, water, beatings, electric shocks… then something that truly frightened her when a so-called doctor managed to mess with her mind using a machine. It was painful. Half her face felt like it had taken a hit from a troll's club, like the one she had barely evaded in her first year, while her whole brain was pressed through a grinder. If she hadn't had some basic knowledge of occlumency, she might have broken then.

Failing to break her, they had managed to crack the surface though, and now she was to meet with Schmidt and she feared he might find the crack in her mind and pry her open. She was so out of it when they dragged her from what she dubbed the lab wing to the villain's lair that she thought she heard her name echo around her, as if someone was calling for her. If she was starting to have auditory hallucinations, she might be worse off than she had estimated.

"Fraulein!" came Schmidt's loud greeting, his voice grating after the quiet of the lab. "I am sorry for not meeting sooner, but I was… otherwise occupied. I see you were treated well, however."

Hermione made the effort to glare at him, but was shocked to see her wand in his hands. She knew he had it, of course, but had not expect to see it so close at hand. So close… She lunged forward, but dear old Hans caught her by the hair and she fell back on her arse. Hans hauled her up by the back of her uniform, tearing several seams, while Schmidt tutted at her.

"You see, I thought this was your source of power, and you do crave it I see, but it is merely wood," he said and rapped the wand against his desk, eliciting a hollow tap tap of wood on wood.

She winced because her wand was unique and irreplaceable in this reality, but only of use to her.

"So, the power I am seeking," Schmidt continued as he rounded his desk to tower over her. "Must come from here."

He pressed the tip of her wand to her chest, hard enough to cause pain, but she fought against Hans' grip anyway. If only she could grasp her wand, she would be able to disapparate and leave this nightmare of a place, but Hans was unyielding. Schmidt looked down at her, his gaze evaluating, while she stood with her eyes cast down, shoulders slumped, her curtain of hair hiding her features. She didn't want him to think she needed to be broken any more before whatever came next. She needed what little will and strength she had left.

"Follow," he ordered, and Hans frog marched her to the next room.

She had imagined a place as disgustingly opulent as his office, a library maybe, but it looked more like a workshop crossed with a meeting room, all of it permeated in an unnatural blue light. The so-called doctor was there too, and she felt her hair stand on end at the sight of him.

"Doctor, if you will," Schmidt said.

Hermione kept her eyes on the pudgy man. He reminded her of Wormtail. The way he scuttered about on his small legs, eager to please his Master… she imagined it was too much to hope he strangled himself to death with his own hand. However, all thought of causing him severe bodily harm flew out the window when he used long metal pincers to retrieve the source of light from his machine. As soon as it was out, the air turned as thick as molasses. The blue cube was otherworldly and she knew without a doubt what it was.

"The Tesseract," she gasped, her breath coming short from her proximity to the source of pure energy.

It was too much. Too much raw power, unbridled, dangerous, not evil but not good either, and her whole magic recoiled at being so close to it. She instinctively knew the cube needed to be contained, hidden and forgotten by all. No mortal could control such a thing. Might as well try to hold a star.

"Precisely," Schmidt said. "You fear this. You have feared nothing until now. Why this?"

"It's… too much power."

Schmidt laughed.

"There is no such thing as too much power, Fraulein, only those too weak to take it, and you are not weak. Doctor."

He motioned for his minion to proceed and she stepped back, walking on Hans' foot, pressed flush against him, but she would climb the son of a bitch if it meant getting away from the Tesseract. His grip on her tightened though, holding both her arms behind her back and keeping her on her toes as if offering her in sacrifice to the glowing cube.

When it came close enough that the light hurt her very eyeballs, a tendril of energy coiled away from the cube towards her. Energy seeking energy. But they were not meant to meet, never should have since she was from another reality. When it brushed against her magic, she was drained like a battery and fell like a puppet with its strings cut, only held up by her guard's hold on her, then new energy filled her whole being with such force she thought she would implode from the shock of it and turn to dust, but she was merely flung back against the back wall instead, swatted away like a bothersome fly, as if judged unworthy and tossed aside. She was saved from more bruising by using Hans as a cushion. Served him right. But when the dark haze of unconsciousness started to fall over her, she had to wonder just how sentient the Tesseract was.

"And then I woke up on top of a tank, outside for the first time in weeks, and there was good ol'Bucky and a mountain of muscles wearing my boyfriend's face."

Silence fell over them, the dump of information needing some time to be processed. Steve wasn't naive, he knew she had glossed over several parts. Even Bucky seemed to know more about it, the way he had tensed and held her closer. Hell, he probably did. They had both been subjected to that same horrid "doctor". Anger roiled around his stomach and Steve wanted to lash out, but not here, not now. Not when Hermione was shaking just froma telling her story.

Hydra had tortured her, had taken her wand and done something to her magic with the artefact she had been seeking. No wonder she had been distant. Going through all that… He couldn't imagine. Steve looked at her longingly from his cot. He wanted to pull her close against him and use his new body to shield her from all the evils of the world, but it was this same oversized body that kept him from sharing his cot with her. Bucky was doing a fair job of it anyway, spooned around her like protective armor, sharing comfort and warmth. He felt he should be jealous of their proximity, but this wasn't their first time sharing a bed and he loved them both with such fierceness, it felt natural they would fit together, all three of them. Seeing the ease with which Hermione and Bucky embraced each other, he thought they might feel the same way too.

Steve brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"We'll find them and make them pay," he promised, his voice rough, still coloured with anger. "We will get your wand back."

He knew it was important to her. She could still do magic, obviously, but he had never seen her do so before without it. It might be more difficult or taxing for her, he wasn't sure and didn't want to ask now, although he would need to very soon, before their team left off.

On the bright side, there were no nightmares that night, none that woke him at least. In fact, Hermione and Bucky were still sleeping peacefully when he checked on them the next morning, wrapped in each other's arms, but he reluctantly got up when he heard a commotion outside. It could be nothing, but he wasn't going to wait for trouble to find him.

Trouble, as it turned out, was Stark and his ostentatious car. Very shiny and red and no doubt costing more than he'll ever earn. Stark was chatting Peggy up while soldiers were admiring his ride. It looked entirely unpractical for these parts. A jeep would be a much better choice in his opinion, but people often chose beauty over practicality.

"Hey, Captain! My man! Just the person I was looking for!"

Steve's eyebrows shot up. He had no idea why Stark would seek him out, of all people, but he had to admit he owed the man big for giving him a plane lift into a dangerous zone.

"How can I help you?"

"Hop in!" Stark said with a nod at his car.

"Go on," Peggy agreed. "I'll tell Hermione where you've gone off to." She lowered her voice. "Is she…"

He nodded, then smiled secretively.

"No nightmares."

Peggy returned the smile and sent him off, warning him to not let Howard walk all over him. True enough, the engineer's personality was loud and overwhelming, but he meant well. He was surprised to find Stark didn't need a favour at all, but had a gift for him: a shiny round shield which seemed as light as a feather.

"Mr Stark-"

"Howard. Come on, buddy. We've laughed in the face of Death together, and worse: Colonel Phillips! Maaaan can that guy hold a grudge! Good thing he likes my toys, which made me think of yours. I heard you're going out soon. Come on, test it out."

Howard pointed at a dummy at the far end of the cluttered warehouse where he was currently tinkering with one of the tanks they'd brought back from Hydra's base in Azzano. Steve held the silver shield up, testing it's balance and weight. Howard rapped on it with a metal rod and it rung harmoniously. It was perfect and took him little effort to throw towards the dummy, decapitating it in the process.

"Ow!" Howard exclaimed with a laugh while Steve winced.

Better yet, the shield bounced off the wall behind the headless dummy and came back to him in a perfect straight line. Steve caught it easily and gave its creator an impressed look.

"That's definitely going to come in handy."

"Bulletproof too. Want to try it out?"

"Sure?" Steve replied uncertainly.

If it didn't work, they were going to have a hard time explaining to the Colonel why his chief engineer had been shooting at his supersoldier.

"Ready?" Howard asked stepping back ten paces and taking aim.

"I feel like I should be saying no."

Howard chuckled and emptied his clip. Looking down at the front of his shield, he found it as good as new. Not a single scratch to be found on the gleaming surface.

"Wow. Think it'll work against those Hydra guns too?"

"I haven't been able to test it, but in theory, it will deflect the beam of energy like a mirror so be careful where you angle it."

Steve nodded. He could use that against them. He had flattened Howard's bullets but he supposed that if he caught the shots just right, he could theoretically also deflect them towards the enemy.

"Thank you for this. I don't know how to repay you."

"Just win the war for us, Captain."

Steve snorted.

"I'll do my best."

He left his shield with Howard who wanted to paint it. Something to do with P.R. apparently. Steve hoped they weren't going to make him go into battle in tightpants again. His men would be laughing themselves silly all the way to Berlin. Hermione would too, he was sure.

The rest of the day was spent planning their route and training together. Hermione could fling anything in any direction, the force of it depending on the weight of the object or person in question. Her feats of magic drew a crowd, and he was glad to note people were in awe of her power rather than afraid, but he supposed this crowd, in particular, had seen some shit at the hands of Hydra and were just glad they had secret weapons just as powerful on their side. Steve's training with a normal shield seemed a bit pointless, so he just went through standard physical with Dum Dum before they sparred together. He couldn't go full out, lest he send him to the hospital, but it became quite challenging when Morita and Falsworth eventually joined in the fight against him. Bucky had gone off shooting for game with several soldiers of the one-oh-seventh who were sick and tired of eating the same old spam. And Jones and Dernier… well, those two were just terrifying as they devised tactics and specific weapons to use against Hydra. Steve finally sent the duo off to see Howard to get them equipped with the certainty the genius would find a way to improve upon their designs.

He had worried about Dernier at first because of the language barrier, but he understood English well enough, the basics at least, and was just terrible at speaking it. His attempts came out a garbled mess of sounds he couldn't make head nor tail off. Jones and Hermione spoke French anyway, so he wasn't too isolated, and Steve was slowly picking it up as well. As a resistant fighter for the last three years, Dernier would be invaluable in connecting them to the various other resistance networks who were distrustful of strangers by necessity.

All in all, his ragtag team was meshing well and he felt they could actually take down Hydra with such a formidable group.

Bucky returned with a couple of deers that evening, and everyone was content and full when they turned in for the night.

"What do you suppose the Colonel wants with us tomorrow?" Bucky asked him as he undressed. He sniffed himself and wrinkled his nose. "I need a shower."

"You own fault for skipping off all day."

"I put food in that belly, you little punk," Bucky said as he jabbed him in the stomach before shaking his hand in the air. "Ouch. Are you actually made of stone now?"

"Who knows? I'm just the lab rat, remember?"

Bucky huffed, then looked at the cots with a furrowed brow.

"Think Hermione will come around tonight?" he asked.

"I don't know. She needed to talk yesterday… She didn't say anything about tonight."

Bucky nodded and climbed into bed.

"You don't mind… that I'm here? If you need some privacy, I could-"

"No," Steve assured him. "We take care of each other, remember? Besides, we sort of made it a habit whenever we're all three together. I think we sleep better this way."

Bucky gave him a puzzled look, so Steve elaborated.

"Peggy told me Hermione had nightmares, but she didn't last night."

"Oh," Bucky said and looked away. They both knew he had, too, except for last night, but neither mentioned it. "I really like her," he admitted quietly.

"I know, Buck."

"I don't get you," he muttered, turning his gaze towards the canvas overhead.

Steve shrugged, making his cot squeak loudly under the strain of his bulk, so he didn't hear at first when Hermione sneaked into their tent. He didn't know if she had heard any of their conversation either. Hopefully not. He didn't want her to think he didn't care about her, but he didn't want her to think he considered her his possession either. Without a word, she took off her boots, shed her coat and climbed into bed between them, falling back into Bucky's waiting arms as she reached for his hand. Suddenly, the cot sank and Hermione rolled on top of him while Bucky fell against his side, with surprised, muffled exclamations all around.

"What the hell?"

"Everyone all right?"

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled against his chest, sounding miserable.

"Did you just… fuse our cots together?" Bucky asked, rolling back to his side to even out their weight on the structure.

"I didn't mean to," Hermione mumbled as she stayed sprawled over him.

Her arms wound around him, hugging him, and he returned it with fervour, burying his face in her curls. She always smelled so sweet, even after spending days in a muddy camp with little to no hot water.

"I just wanted to be closer and my magic… I'm having a hard time keeping it under control," she admitted and let go, falling back beside him with a huff.

"You're not going to turn us into toads while we sleep, doll, right?"

Hermione smiled against him.

"You call me doll again, Buck, and I just might."