A/N: I don't own either universe.

Thanks for all your comments, reviews, follows, and favorites! Please continue to do so!

Sorry for any grammatical errors. I reread my chapters constantly and hate when I catch errors—hate it.

We're working our way back towards fluff with a plot so the next chapters are consistently longer. I'm still thinking I might be done at chapter 20 (until I work on the sequel) but I'm still working on the chapters and will have to see. One piece I had written since I first started this fic was finally going to be uploaded…but it's been relegated to the next chapter after determining it'd be a better fit there and 18,000 words was too long for a single chapter. So, I'm excited for next week!

Some fun things are upcoming and you can contribute as you please! I don't think I've rejected anyone's suggestion yet so shoot me your headcanon/fluffs/plot bunnies and I'll see if I can find a home for it.

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you keep enjoying!

Oh boy. This one is a doozy in length. (over 10,000 words!)

-0-0-0- Wrong and Right

Hermione was dying. She reminded herself for the umpteenth time that it was only figurative and she hypothetically was getting enough sleep to prevent a sudden collapse. Still, she thought petulantly, she at least felt genuinely miserable. Her nights had become a mix between sleeplessness and the ragged agony of her usual nightmares that left her throat sore from screaming herself awake. As she had done prior to the appearance of Bucky and Steve, Hermione distracted herself with additional work. Sure, she was probably running herself a little ragged, but it was better than sitting idle in despair.

Her days of comfort and happiness were over but Hermione still trudged along. After all, she recalled like a mantra, who could heal Steve and Bucky but her? Despite her own declining mental health—not declining per se but perhaps just returning to the previous state—Steve and Bucky were apparently improving. Better yet, they were improving together.

She cringed as she reflected on her own limited capabilities in mind-healing; there was only so much she could do for Bucky or Steve at one time. She had prioritized the recovery of Bucky's memory as well as lessening the agony of his memories with Steve. She was pleased that Bucky was less wary towards Steve, but the result was hardly a surprise; the repair of their mental relationship bolstered their friendship. Dimly, she acknowledged that it served to isolate Hermione from the both of them. She really only saw them when she healed them and that was fine. The healing sessions were seemingly inadequate compared to the nonstop presence they shared before—but it was appropriate as their mental health care provider to only see them in a professional capacity. So she tried—really, she did. Admittedly it was lonely, but it was appropriate. Even if it meant sleepless nights and tired eyes because peaceful sleep could no longer find her without Steve and Bucky at her side.

So Hermione distracted herself with more work. She had taken a brief reprieve from her pedagogical work and free-lance consulting in order to initially welcome Steve and Bucky. Now, as days had passed and she had grown confident that Bucky would not run away from treatment in shame and self-loathing, Hermione could regularly leave the house again to conduct her work. Steve had apparently also returned to work with the Avengers, meeting with his team almost daily to train or plan. Between Hermione and Steve's new erratic schedule needs, Bucky sometimes was left alone at the house. He seemed to prefer it that way.

"I'd rather not be alone."

Hermione remembered Bucky's words the first day of his lucidity—before he had withdrawn. She knew she had to respect what he was saying, even if it wasn't what he was feeling, even if she desperately yearned to not be left on the outskirts of best friendship again. But his needs were greater than her own and more than anything, he needed to feel like he had control and autonomy. So Hermione left him alone. Crookshanks, aware of her will and probably possessing reasons of his own, often shadowed Bucky as the only comfort Hermione could offer without intruding.

While Bucky had been actively avoiding her, Steve had been another story. Their first healing had been a session of mending for both of them. She had been glad when Steve seemingly eased from the wariness he carried after her Occlumency incident. She had been stunned when Steve had suddenly become more forward. She recalled him at the cusp of his trance, touching her blatantly in a way he never managed when she looked at him head on.

"We take care of each other." He had said and her heart had nearly burst from just the idea. Since that day—since his healing had begun—Steve had begun to touch and seek her touch more willingly. It was all little things, like passing items and grazing fingertips or a hand on her back to guide her in a certain direction. It never was inappropriate or crass and Hermione admitted only to herself and Crookshanks that she did in fact enjoy his caresses. But even with Steve's sudden lingering brushes, Hermione found it did not fill the void that Bucky's affection had left. If anything, Steve's sudden fascination with her skin coincided with the beginning of their healing sessions—a fact that was not lost on her. She resolved to concentrate on healing both Steve and Bucky quicker lest she continue to stare her temptations in the face daily.

Hermione was familiar enough with the healing Steve required. Steve reminded Hermione of Harry in many ways. Prone to self-sacrifice, they were two people in her life who easily sacrificed themselves to the literal death for the benefit and life of others. They also seemingly didn't expect their miraculous return back to life. Some people would be overjoyed with a second change but people like them, well, they were often martyrs because they had not seen a life beyond their war.

Hermione followed the wounded paths inside of Steve's mind until she reached his memories of life before the war and the war itself. Steve had feared the end of the war for a variety of reasons but at the end of the day the war had made Steve capable and his fear extended to what would happen when it concluded; how he would leave that capability behind. Like many of Hermione's friends who had spent so much time involved in fighting a brutal war, they had no idea where to channel their energy after.

Hermione could also relate.

Another unsettling thing that Hermione encountered was Steve's own self-loathing for Bucky's tragic demise. Resolutely, Steve had determined to never leave his friend behind again. Hermione sought to mend the negative feelings Steve held towards everything that had occurred to Bucky. They ran deep, taking root within Steve's soul, grit, and determination, but Hermione could mend them—so she did. Yes, Steve was a mind she could fairly easily work with all things considered.

Bucky, however, was a mind of mysteries. Whatever Hydra had done to him had resembled the Cruciatus curse. Since Hermione had trained her protégés to heal Cruciatus damage, Hermione had not healed someone with similar-type damage in over a year. Her students were proficient and Hermione was lucky enough to have subsisted on their abilities during that time. Hermione personally only treated very important people or cases that were deemed impossible—a category Hermione had determined included Bucky. She had been fine enough on the first phase of healing; increasing growth rates of memories was not particularly painful—just taxing. But now that Hermione was on the second phase of healing—focused and specific healing—it was taxing and painful. Hermione hadn't even entered the third or fourth phase! Which was why, Hermione thought angrily, she needed proper sleep.

Regardless of her personal distaste of sleep deprivation, Hermione was a creature of routines even as she developed less than ideal patterns. Her new one started when she woke up dead-exhausted. She worked, healed, worked, and healed. When she went to bed, she attempted to stay awake despite her compounding sleep deprivation. Eventually, she'd fall reluctantly into a fitful sleep. Rinse and repeat. She was appreciative the day she had stumbled into Steve in the kitchen. Talking with him—even in the middle of the night—put her at ease and so she happily added late night tea to her itinerary. The idle chatter before sleeping did wonders to improve her growing sleeplessness.

Still, Hermione thought ruefully, a bandage only helped so much when you had a festering wound. Regardless, Hermione woke with only a small sound of protest, eyes bruising from her lack of peaceful rest. When she opened her eyes to the offending morning light she protested vocally again. She could stay in bed, she thought. Crookshanks would fetch her food—she was sure of it. When Hermione spent five minutes contemplating whether she could subsist on a diet of mice, she finally gave up on her daydream and dislodged Crookshanks softly from his place beside her. The Bucky Bear and Captain America bear slid down the sheets as she stood. She dressed slowly. She brushed her hair ineffectively. She looked at her bloodshot and baggy eyes in the mirror and sighed. A quick twist of her wand and the usual glamour was set; she didn't want the boys to notice or worry. She didn't want to know how she would feel if they saw her state and didn't react either so she didn't give them the chance.

Hermione sipped her black tea and quietly ate her oats before descending into her magical basement. She was in the process of organizing her work documents when the green flames in her hearth echoed her name. She answered the call.

"Harry." Hermione greeted with a small smile. His hair was disarrayed but he looked happy and whole.

"Morning, Hermione!" Harry greeted good-naturedly, he was fumbling with something beyond her sight "I had some legislation I wanted you to—" Harry looked up and paused abruptly at the sight of her. She drew back a little warily.

"You're wearing a glamour." Harry noticed immediately despite the green tint of the flames. Hermione bit her lip, guiltily. The problem with glamours was that certain imperfections disappeared; people who knew where those marks were supposed to be could notice the absence.

"I've had a few rough days at work." Hermione said vaguely. She withheld her wince when Harry looked at her sternly, gauging.

"I thought you just took a break? Then you go back to work and you're pushing yourself too hard? What's the point of a vacation if you aren't actually able to rest and relax?" Harry chastised. Hermione cursed mentally. As the main person who mothered others, it was difficult to receive it from anyone—especially Harry or Ron.

"I'm fine, Harry." Hermione said as she waved off his concern. His expression remained stony.

"That remains to be seen. Are you coming to the burrow next dinner?" Harry asked pointedly.

"No, I'll still have company." Hermione responded wearily.

"Muggles who aren't your parents?" Harry hedged suspiciously. Hermione attempted a faint smile.

"Just two friends." Hermione answered. Harry's suspicions were clearly rising.

"Oh? Where do you know them from?" Harry asked nonchalantly but Hermione recognized he was fishing for answers.

"They're local." Hermione mumbled as she stared down at the hem of her skirt.

"Uh huh." Harry drew out the expression. "Local muggles who are staying at your place? How did you meet?" Harry called her out obnoxiously. Hermione pursued her lips.

"Well, I met one in the alley outside my house two years ago and then I met his friend." Hermione offered vaguely.

"He?" Harry noticed.

"Yes. He." Hermione answered succinctly.

"I see…" Harry trailed off lightly, though his lips were forming a smirk.

"Oh, Harry, stop! Honestly. You're worse than Ginny and Molly!" Hermione complained suddenly. She was glad he was no longer focusing on the original topic but this topic was one they revisited far too often.

"Can you blame me? I just want someone to take care of you." Harry offered.

"I can take care of myself." Hermione bit out. "I'm not pursuing a relationship with either of them. I'm just letting them stay until they move into their New York apartments."

"First of all, you obviously can but don't take care of yourself—despite promising Ron and I you would when you moved to New York—and secondly, you're telling me you let two muggles into your sanctuary of protection and you're doing it so they have somewhere to stay? That's the only reason?" Harry baited. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"It's not like the house is just a Fidelius charm, you know that; having them here won't erase my protections." Hermione pouted.

"Come on, Hermione. I know you better than that; you don't invite random muggles or wizards over unless you have a good reason. You've only known them at max for two years—how do you even know they're safe?" Harry questioned. Hermione sucked her cheek and sulked.

"I knew you for less than a year before I was gallivanting with you." Hermione recalled.

"And now you have great friendships and several children who call you Auntie. So is there something else?" Harry reiterated relentlessly.

"They're just… I'm just helping them out and they are fine. Crookshanks approved and everything." Hermione responded weakly. Harry 'hmmd' on the other side of the flames.

"Alright. I'll accept that you are currently not pursuing either muggle and you will be missing Burrow dinner, but you better be at the one after, am I understood?" Harry demanded. Hermione snorted a laugh.

"Yes, Lord Potter." Hermione snickered. Harry scoffed in response.

"I'm looking out for you, Hermione—just like you did for me. Okay?" Harry told her softly. Hermione melted at the placation.

"Yes, Harry." Hermione smiled back. "Fatherhood becomes you."

"I know." Harry smirked. "Oh, right—papers! Can you look over the legislation that's circling around over here and let me know what you think?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. "I'll send them right over." Harry flashed her a grateful smile.

"I love you, Harry." Hermione told him fondly.

"I love you, too." Harry said with a smile.

"Give my love to the others, as well." Hermione demanded and Harry nodded.

"Will do. Take care." Harry said as he removed himself from the call. The papers shot through a short time later and Hermione Accio'd them into her hand before sitting back on her heels.

That was close.

-0-0-0-

Steve was happy to report his friendship with Bucky was healing. They were not the same—no—but their friendship was evolving into something new but no less deep than it had been in the past. Steve was unsure if it was Hermione's healing or the techniques they were both employing to benefit Bucky but whatever the tactic, it seemed to be working. Despite spending nearly every day training with various Avengers, Steve still spent much of his time back at the house in Bucky's room. Sometimes they talked, other times they just coexisted in the same space together. Hermione had suggested to Steve that Bucky might benefit from more hobbies and after Steve badgered his friend, Bucky had finally taken up additional hobbies—including reading Hermione's books and gardening on the roof. Hermione's library was rich with all types of books—save the military books that Steve favored—but it particularly favored fantasy books. Steve remembered Bucky's preference for sci-fi and fantasy and thus he was not surprised when Bucky began talking about one plot or another, a character or conflict. Unfortunately for Bucky, Steve was never able to offer much to the conversation about books Steve never had read. Fortunately, someone else in the house was far more apt.

"Hermione has read all these books, Buck." Steve suggested to Bucky. "I'm sure she'd love talking about them—they're in her library after all." Bucky, however, had mumbled some excuse, continuing to avoid Hermione. It irked Steve that his friend was warming back up to him but was still frigid and avoidant with Hermione. Steve might acknowledge there was progress, but Bucky making regular eye contact hardly seem like such a big accomplishment, especially given how Bucky was especially diligent to not touch Hermione in any way. Occasionally Bucky would even duck so obviously out of the way that Steve was amazed Hermione never got offended. Granted, Bucky's touch-reluctance seemed to extend to Steve as well. While in their past life, Steve and Bucky had jostled, wrestled, and embraced one another on the daily, nowadays, Steve was lucky if Bucky bumped shoulders without flying backwards against the wall in alarm. Despite this there was one being who was the sole exception—Crookshanks. The mercurial, bowlegged cat seemed indifferent to Bucky's preferences and brushed by Bucky's ankles constantly. Bucky would flinch at anyone else's touch but he seemed no longer surprised as Crookshanks swept by him with feline authority. Steve resolved to not be jealous of the cat.

Given Bucky's predisposition to avoiding Hermione with deliberate consistency, it was with great surprise that Bucky seemingly flipped in the complete opposite direction once again. It was the end of dinner when Hermione had already swept the dishes away that Bucky had called out from the table.

"Hermione." Bucky said softly, yet her name seemingly echoed in the sudden stillness of the room. "Can we—" Bucky croaked out before pausing. He regarded Hermione as Steve regarded him; Hermione had paused mid-stride and turned towards them in surprise. "Can we watch a movie?" Bucky finished hesitantly. He swept a tongue across his lips as if to wet his dry lips. Hermione and Steve both looked at Bucky stunned.

"Yes." Hermione authorized slowly. She was smiling; her eyes were alight with joy, exuding a spirit of complete contentedness. "I would like that very much." Hermione ventured and Bucky melted from the sight, Steve saw. Steve was glad he was currently escaping notice because he had no doubt his face mirrored the contained adoration he also felt for a happy Hermione. They assembled by the couch, Steve siting in his usual spot immediately while Hermione turned on the next Disney movie. They had waited for Bucky in order to continue their Disney Marathon and were starting exactly where they had left off. When Hermione sat down in her normal seat she glanced up at Bucky. Steve followed her gaze. Bucky had not shifted from where he stood beside the couch. He looked unsure as he looked between the couch and the floor. Finally Bucky sat down. He was on the couch but sat distantly from where Steve and Hermione sat side-by-side. If Hermione was disappointed, she did not reveal it.

After that day, Bucky had seemingly decided to shuck his self-imposed isolation. Where he used to be found only in his room, Steve now found Bucky dwelling somewhere in the openness of the atrium. Instead of avoiding Hermione, Bucky began to seek opportunities to spend time with her and Steve. Every night after dinner, they would retire to the couch where they would continue their movie list. Though the three did not sit as intimately as they had previously, Steve noted that just spending time with both of them still eased his mind and soul. He was therefore reluctant to spend evenings away despite the urging of the other Avengers. Steve was fortunate, however, that Natasha had continued to be away on missions and conveniently had been unable to corner Steve to ask any additional questions—which was good because Steve was a shit liar. Unfortunately, Natasha wasn't the only one asking questions.

"So I've come up with a new theory." Tony said one day in the practice room of the Avengers tower. Steve closed his eyes in annoyance and he ended his round on the boxing bag with a hit so powerful, the bag broke. Steve frowned. Hermione's charmed bag had held up to every punch he had ever thrown at it but it was back on her roof.

"That's the third bag this week, Cap." Clint said with an amused grin as he fired an arrow casually at a moving target. "Why don't you try boxing a metal beam instead?"

"Ah ah ah!" Tony reprimanded. "We were focusing on my theory!" Tony drew Clint's attention. Clint sheathed his bow to walk over to listen.

"What theory?" Clint asked curious.

"Why I haven't been able to track Cap's home." Tony elaborated and Steve's hackles went up in surprise.

"You've been trying to track me?!" Steve exclaimed. Tony's eyes widened slightly as he looked awkwardly away from Steve's scorching glare.

"Only to update your contact information, of course." Tony reasoned and Steve looked at him in deadpan disbelief.

"Where are you staying, Steve? Nat said whenever she calls your phone when you're at your 'house' it reads in different places." Clint questioned in a non-threatening manner.

"I've been getting false reads, too!" Tony exclaimed, his interest peaking. Steve looked up to the heavens for strength.

"Can you please not track me?" Steve begged in exasperation. "Has it occurred to you that maybe I don't want to draw attention to myself? That maybe I like living somewhere a little more subtle than 'Avenger tower'?" Steve ranted. Clint seemed to be weighing the merit of the idea but Tony was pouting.

"You issued a challenge, Cap, I need to know where you're staying." Tony explained.

"Why don't you just tell him where you're staying, Steve?" Bruce was still in his lab coat as he entered the gym; he never trained—didn't really need it. "You know he won't drop it until his curiosity is sated." Steve felt his jaw jut out in determination.

"It isn't my secret to tell." Steve reiterated for the thousandth time. "I promise I'm safe, protected, and well cared for." Steve said.

"Well good for you, Steve!" Clint said with a friendly pat on Steve's shoulder before disappearing back into training. Steve turned to Bruce and Tony.

"Can't I get a little privacy?" Steve asked gruffly before picking up his towel to head back to the changing rooms. Over his shoulder he heard Tony shouting his latest theory but Steve ignored him—whatever it was, it was wrong. Determinedly done for the day, Steve rolled out on his new Harley. The ride was quick; Hermione lived relatively close to Avenger tower. Steve pulled the bike into the garage, grateful Hermione allowed him to park it there after the utilization of a cab became impractical. Steve was already in a bad mood from the usual questions as he collapsed into the sofa, eyes closing in an effort to will away his frustration.

"Steve." Bucky greeted from where he was lounging on the other side of the sofa reading a book. Steve nodded tiredly back. Bucky was peering over the top of his book to look at Steve and Steve, already irritated, was a little more confrontational than usual.

"Yes, Bucky?" Steve questioned as patiently as he could. Bucky did not even flinch at the less than patient tone.

"Did you see Hermione eat breakfast?" Bucky asked softly. Steve opened his eyes and looked back at Bucky who had pulled the book down into his lap.

"What?" Steve asked confused. Bucky was looking at him searchingly for some reason.

"You left early this morning—did you see Hermione eat?" Bucky elaborated. Steve stared at his friend blankly. Steve had gotten up first and had seen Hermione wander into the kitchen. Slowly, the realization fell into place. Hermione had entered the kitchen but she had only grabbed a cup of tea, mumbled her itinerary, and then had disappeared into the basement.

"She had tea and then disappeared downstairs." Steve remembered. Bucky was still looking at him seriously.

"No food?" Bucky clarified. Steve nodded.

"She didn't eat anything while I was there but she might have come back after I left." Steve reasoned. Bucky was frowning.

"No. I came out here right after you left and I haven't seen her all day." Bucky explained. Steve felt his brow furrow.

"Maybe she popped out for lunch?" Steve asked. Bucky shook his head again.

"She always tells me when she's leaving." Bucky said as Steve began to rub his eyes.

"What are you trying to say?" Steve finally asked.

"I'm saying I don't think Hermione has eaten all day." Bucky determined. Steve glanced at the clock. It was already dinner time. Steve's own stomach grumbled in hunger and Bucky rolled his eyes at the ill-timed reminder. "Why don't we make dinner today?" Bucky announced as he set his book aside and headed towards the kitchen. Steve stood and followed as Bucky began pulling ingredients out of the fridge. Remembering past experiences, Steve took the lead.

"Woah, Buck—better let me handle that." Steve said with a hint of a teasing smirk appearing as his foul mood began to dissipate. He delegated Bucky off to the side to prep vegetables, so Steve could take control of the meal plan. "How did you notice Hermione missed her meals? Does it happen often?" Steve asked during his search for ingredients. Bucky scoffed at the question.

"I've been in the atrium all day. This is the first time I've been able to confirm she missed meals, but I think it's happened a few times." Bucky mentioned ruefully. Steve eyed him over his shoulder as he took flour out of the pantry.

"You're keeping an eye on her?" Steve asked with a feigned nonchalance. Bucky's eyes narrowed in suspicion and Steve regretted his friend could see right through him.

"Somebody has too." Bucky said under his breath but it was loud enough that Steve could hear it. Steve paused.

"What?" Steve asked as he gave Bucky a look.

"I just happened to notice." Bucky finally said as he jutted out his jaw. He was still focused on slicing the carrots but Steve could feel his friend's faint disapproval. "Haven't you noticed anything…different over the past few weeks?" Bucky baited in a way that sounded accusatory. Steve, irritation returning from early, felt his temper rise.

"I'm surprised you noticed anything from inside your room." Steve bit out, annoyance creeping into his tone. Truthfully, Bucky had been emerging from his room more frequently. Reluctantly, Steve recognized he probably should have been more patient but Bucky was leading to something and Steve just wanted to know what.

"I'm not surprised you didn't notice despite not restricting yourself to your room." Bucky returned. Steve flushed in surprise.

"What does that mean?" Steve asked as he narrowed his eyes in growing frustration. Steve flipped the meat angrily in the pan.

"It means; I hadn't left Hermione alone just so you could neglect her." Bucky growled. Steve shook the pan angrily.

"I've been a little busy with work—as has she—and I already said you were my priority." Steve groused back at the unstated blame. Bucky was peeling the potatoes with exaggerated flourishes.

"I shouldn't be anyone's priority." Bucky countered harshly. Whatever Bucky had intended by the conversation was halted when they both jumped at the sound of a door shutting. Hermione turned the corner not long after.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I got caught up in work; I didn't even notice the time—wait—are you…cooking?" Hermione rambled as she took in the sight of the kitchen. Steve glanced at Bucky. He was flushed as he ducked his head behind the shadow of his hair. Steve looked back at Hermione who looked confused.

"I'm finally getting a chance to show off my cooking skills." Steve covered breezily. Bucky was covertly eyeing Hermione so Steve did the same. Her hair was barely contained by her hair tie, but it looked healthy. Her skin glowed, pleasantly flushed. She looked just as attractive and healthy as he had always seen. Crookshanks jumped on the kitchen chair and Hermione scooped him into her arms to pet him, chattering away banally as the cat pretended to be interested. Steve determined that Hermione looked as she always did. A glance to his side revealed Bucky narrowing his eyes. If Bucky thought something was wrong with Hermione she was damn good at hiding it, Steve realized.

After dinner and Bucky's healing, Steve joined Hermione as she poured him a cup of decaffeinated tea. Steve took it willingly. He allowed his hands to brush hers as she passed the cup to him. She ducked her head away with a pretty blush.

"The food was good." Hermione complimented. "I should've let you cook for me ages ago." Hermione said with a light laugh. Steve smiled down at his tea.

"What happened to trading manual labor for room and board?" Steve joked. Hermione laughed again.

"You're right! I have a gardener and cook…do you think Sam could be a pool boy?" Hermione wondered aloud. Steve looked at her askance.

"Do you even have a pool?" Steve asked. Hermione smiled amused.

"No…but I'm sure I could figure out how to add one." Hermione said as she hefted the wand in her hand playfully. "How is Sam by the way?"

"Good…good. He has his own room at Avenger tower now. He said that Stark kept calling him the Eagle while he stayed in my designated room, so he demanded a new one. He only comes up occasionally though; he still has some Veterans Affair business in DC." Steve told her as he taped his finger on the edge of his mug. Hermione was smiling softly as she looked at her own mug. Steve regarded her again. Her hair was still messy and riotous but still looked healthy; her skin still looked well; she still looked fine. Yet, something in Bucky's hinting had struck home for Steve. She was still evasive about questions of her own past. Steve still didn't know about the origins of her scars. Her smiles still seemed sad. He finished his tea sooner than usual and bade Hermione goodnight. She looked disappointed and just as reluctant as he felt when they parted to their respective rooms to sleep. She always had a brief look of dread as she entered her room but Steve had always thought it was because she missed their sleepovers. Steve sat in his room on the edge of his bed for a long time, contemplating. What had Bucky meant? What had Bucky noticed? Steve's door opened and he looked up in surprise.

"Notice anything?" Bucky whispered softly as he entered and closed the door behind him. Steve glanced at the clock. It was already the early twilight hours of the next day.

"She seems perfectly alright." Steve responded. Bucky looked at him expectantly and Steve sighed. "But somethings never seemed to add up—things she's said and done." Steve elaborated. Bucky nodded. Steve looked at him. "Shouldn't you be sleeping to recover?" Steve asked accusingly. Bucky shrugged.

"I always wake up at this hour." Bucky admitted. Steve looked at him significantly and Bucky capitulated. "Nightmares." Bucky clarified. "But don't pretend you don't have sleepless nights, too."

"You're right." Steve acknowledged. "So if we all suffer from insomnia…what about Hermione?" Steve asked. Bucky crossed his arms.

"Exactly." Bucky said grimly. Without thinking, Steve opened the door and strode to Hermione's. Bucky was beside him as they lingered outside of her room and listened. The house was unusually quiet for New York but there was nothing coming from Hermione's room. Steve should have been able to hear shuffling or breathing.

"Buck—can you hear anything?" Steve whispered to his friend beside him. Bucky shook his head negative. Steve knocked lightly on the door. "Hermione?" Steve voiced tentatively. Steve felt his anxiety grow as the silence held; there was no movement, no indication of life. When his second attempt yielded no answer, Steve began to panic. Impulsively, he threw the door open. "Hermione?!" He called, dimly acknowledging Bucky entering behind him. Steve's concern was unnecessarily as the figure they were searching for jumped up from the bed with a wand pointed in their direction.

"Steve?" Hermione whispered in disbelief. A light emerged from her wand, casting a low glow around them. "Bucky?" She echoed incredulously. "What's wrong?" She asked, her face scanning both of them in the illuminating light. But Bucky did not answer nor did Steve and he imagined it was for the very same reason; Hermione looked awful. Her eyes were sunken. She appeared to have lost weight in her face which gave her a gaunt expression. Her bushy hair seemed drier and brittle. How could they have missed this? Steve wondered angrily. How could they not have noticed?They were so wrapped up in their own recovery and friendship that they have completely missed Hermione's own suffering. Steve blamed himself; he had prioritized Bucky but he should have been there for them both. Hadn't he told Sam he'd support Hermione, too? She was staring at them blearily as she awaited an answer neither had given.

"We couldn't hear you…" Steve explained awkwardly, still concerned with the sight before him. Hermione sighed, as she dimmed the light to a more manageable level.

"It's a silencing spell…so everyone could sleep better." Hermione explained tiredly. Steve suspected the last part was a lie. "Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine." Hermione placated. Lie. Steve identified.

"O-kay." Steve continued uneasily. "We—um—we'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry for the disruption and goodnight?" Steve finished hesitantly. Hermione gave him a brief smile.

"I'll see you two in the morning." Hermione said softly as she settled back into the bed. Feeling a rush of affection for their caretaker, Steve trailed over to her. "Steve?" Hermione asked, surprise coloring her voice. The wand light was gone but Steve could still make out her form with the moonlight from the windows.

"I'm tucking you in." Steve replied loftily. Hermione made a strangled noise but acquiesced as Steve pulled the blankets to her chin. "Goodnight." Steve whispered as he allowed himself a soft caress on the corner of her jaw.

"Goodnight, Steve. Goodnight Bucky." Hermione said quietly back. Steve closed the door behind him and exhaled as he closed his eyes. When Steve opened them, he saw Bucky leading back to his room—his shoulders hunched in contained rage. Steve followed and was not surprised when Bucky closed the door swiftly behind them. Steve looked around. Bucky must have gotten packages from his online shopping because there were boxes, knick-knacks, and packaging everywhere.

"Fuckin' hell!" Bucky exclaimed as he dropped onto the corner of his bed.

"Language," Steve reprimanded out of habit. Admittedly, Steve wanted to curse just as bad.

"Fuckin' heck." Bucky bit out sarcastically as he looked up at Steve. "You saw that shit, didn't you?" Bucky ground out and Steve looked at him harshly again. It had been some time since Bucky had used quite so…colorful language. Steve knew Bucky was inclined to cursing when he was agitated. Steve had no doubt that his friend was currently very agitate—just like Steve himself. Bucky wiped a hand over his face and Steve exhaled again in frustration.

"I'd have to be blind to have missed it, Buck. You were right; something is wrong with her." Steve admitted his brows furrowing.

Bucky hissed out a "no shit" under his breath. "Well, we're both blind because we both missed it until now." Bucky admitted ruefully.

"How did you know? How did you notice?" Steve asked suddenly. At that moment, Crookshanks meowed and jumped up on Bucky's desk chair. Bucky eyed the cat significantly. Steve looked at the cat and back to Bucky in surprise. Bucky nodded in confirmation. "The cat?" Steve questioned in disbelief.

"Crookshanks does things for a reason. He showed me the book she wrote. I read it—and—and she was tortured, Steve." Bucky explained. Steve closed his eyes.

"The scar…on her forearm." Steve recalled as he rubbed between his eyebrows. "She said it was from her war."

"What does that mean? I keep coming across it but I don't know what that actually means!" Bucky ran his hands through his hair. Steve looked at the floor sadly.

"She always changes the subject when I asked for details. She hadn't—I thought I was respecting her by not pushing." Steve exhaled in frustration, still rubbing his face. "What do we do?" Steve asked.

"What can we do?" Bucky retorted his tone echoing Steve's own realization that he didn't have a damn clue. Their late-night brainstorming ended inconclusively. The next day Steve was still thinking about solutions when he realized that Hermione was doing more than avoiding conversation topics. When she entered the kitchen in the morning, Bucky passing her eggs and sausage to her surprise, Steve inspected her features. She looked the same as she had always looked. She still looked fine. She still looked put together and healthy. Steve commented as such when she disappeared into the basement later that day.

"No…" Bucky pondered. "Something isn't right; I know what I saw." Bucky confirmed. Steve turned and looked at Bucky as the answer seemed to hit them both.

"Magic." They agreed ominously. Hermione was using magic to cover up whatever negative effects were occurring.

-0-0-0-

"People always crack, Steve. Even people who are good at hiding it." Sam said at the practice gym in Avenger tower.

"But why is she hiding it? How long has she been hiding it?" Steve wondered. Sam shrugged indelicately. Realization struck Steve. "You don't think it's because I make her uncomfortable—touching her?" Steve asked worryingly. He hoped desperately that wasn't the case. Sam snorted.

"Steve, I think Penny has eyes for only you and her guard dog." Sam commented with amusement. Steve frowned.

"But he's not like that anymore…and he might kill you if you call him that." Steve warned. "Do you think that's why she's upset?" Steve continued to wonder, just as he had for the past few days since the discovery.

"Well, I'm calling him that until you give him a new nickname." Sam said idly as he drank from his water bottle. "Listen, maybe Penny's trying to choose between you, maybe she's not trying to choose either of you at all—she's your doctor, after all. All I know is that when I saw her, she had it bad for both of you and the way everything has been lining up, that's got to come with a whole slew of problems." Sam pontificated. Steve was so deep into considering Sam's opinions that he hadn't even noticed as Tony snuck up behind him.

"Ohhhh?" Tony drew out in a grating voice that immediately put Steve on edge. "What's this about your lucky penny, Cap?" Tony said with a Cheshire cat smile. Steve resisted the urge to flinch.

"My necklace?" Steve questioned deceptively. Tony could not be fooled if his smile was anything to go by.

"Noooope." Tony said, releasing the word with an exaggerated pop. "You're too late, Cap; I've already heard it. Dr. Penny. Penny with a capital P, as in a proper noun, as in a person!" Tony smiled.

"Thank you for the grammar lesson." Steve deadpanned. Sam gave Steve and apologetic look but Steve knew he was at fault for asking Sam so publically. Tony stepped out of his iron man suit and procured water from the fridge.

"You know, Cap. Good ol' falcon over here has been unwilling to reveal the details of your little chateau." Tony took a drink of water. Steve flashed Sam an appreciative look and Sam nodded back. "The most I got out of Wilson is the same thing Agent Romanoff got: a Miss Penny of Oz." Tony accused. Steve felt vaguely like he was being interrogated but he had been expecting Tony to bring his accommodations up again; he was just lucky he still hadn't seen Nat yet while she was on her own intelligence missions. "So who is she? Wouldn't Dorothy be more apt?" Sam snorted.

"Dorothy and Toto—that sounds about right." Sam seemed to contemplate the metaphor and Tony brightened in response.

"But who would be Steve? The cowardly lion?" Tony needled aloud. Steve bristled.

"If I'm the lion, you're the tin man." Steve projected, glad that in terms of pop culture metaphors, this was one he could actively participate in.

"This is all wrong." Sam admitted. He pointed at Steve. "Steve is Dorothy and Toto is still Toto." Tony glanced back at Sam in confusion.

"A: Who is Toto? And B: Then who does Penny become?" Tony questioned.

"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtains." Sam said as he waved his hands in front of his face. Tony's brows furrowed.

"So you're all going to her to have your wishes come true?" Tony extrapolated. Steve sighed.

"It's not a perfect metaphor." Steve said as he rolled his eyes.

"I don't know, Cap." Sam disagreed. "I think the tin man could use a little bit of her magic." Sam said under his breath. Steve gave him a sharp look at the mention of magic but Tony was too annoyed to apparently notice.

"I want to meet her!" Tony demanded petulantly. "Why haven't you invited her over?" Steve snorted.

"So you can interrogate her? Absolutely not." Steve vetoed.

"Why hasn't she invited us over? Doesn't she know about us?" Tony continued to whine as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Of course she knows." Steve said as he looked skyward for patience.

"Who knows what now?" Clint said as he appeared out of nowhere. Steve wiped another hand across his face.

"Penny knows about the Avengers but Cap won't invite her to visit." Tony pouted. "Jarvis, tell Steve we are perfect hosts."

"Captain Rogers, I am proficient in hosting traditions of over 100 different countries." Jarvis rang out from around the room.

"She's not meeting any of you." Steve groused out. "She's got enough going on as it is and I'm not subjecting her to any of you."

"I thought Sam's been to her house?" Clint commented unhelpfully and Tony's eyes lit up.

"Wilson's already met her and seen her house?! Aw, come on, Cap!" Tony looked nearly close to begging.

"No way!" Steve continued. "There's no reason why—"

"What about your birthday party?" Tony cut in. Steve gave him a look.

"What?"

"Your birthday? Tomorrow? Invite her?" Tony asked. Steve blinked at Tony, then at Sam and Clint. Steve had completely forgotten his birthday. "Romanoff will be back tonight! We were going to watch the fireworks from the tower?" Steve was still staring at Tony. His birthday was July fourth and he had completely forgotten. "You weren't listening." Tony noticed with a frown. "We mentioned watching the fireworks the day before yesterday." Tony reminded him. The day before yesterday, Steve had been preoccupied with Hermione's hidden health issues.

"Wow, Cap. Did you forget your own birthday?" Clint commented with a laugh. He slapped Steve on the back and Steve jumped.

"I— "Steve paused. He what? He didn't want to celebrate with the Avengers? He wanted to celebrate with Bucky and Hermione? Sam caught his eye and seemed to get his hesitation.

"The fireworks are pretty early. You could always stay for those and just head back to Penny and Toto after." Sam commented. Steve nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I—wow—yeah, I forgot my birthday." Steve admitted. Clint laughed easily again.

"We'll see you tomorrow then." Clint agreed as he pulled back an arrow and launched it at a far-off target. It struck. "Nat's been upset she keeps missing you." Clint smirked as he jumped back into the training field. Steve felt the blood from his face drain. He had forgotten about Nat.

-0-0-0-

Steve's birthday started off well. He had wandered into the kitchen to spot Bucky and Hermione perched over the frying pan making pancakes. Hermione noticed him first and smiled warmly in his direction.

"Happy Birthday, Steve!" Hermione greeted delightedly. Then Hermione did something she had only done for comfort; she hugged him. It took Steve a moment to comprehend what was happening as she tightly gripped his torso. When Steve realized, he wound his arms around her—slouching down to embrace as much of her as possible. His body heated from the touch and despite the smell of the pancake batter in the air Steve inhaled deeply as he fondly recalled her scent; he hadn't been close enough to savor it since they had all slept together. When Steve finally let go, Hermione backed away shyly. Her face was red as she switched spots with Bucky in order to flip the hotcakes.

"Happy 96th, old man." Bucky said with a small smile. Bucky outstretched his hand and Steve shook it. He was surprised again when Bucky swept him in to an embrace. It was quick but strong and Steve pulled away with the feeling of tears welling in his eyes. He heard Hermione sniffle before clearing her throat.

"Have some pancakes, Steve." Hermione said as she blinked away her own emotional tears with a smile. Steve sat down and Hermione gave him a huge stack, slathering the pancakes in maple syrup, whip cream, and strawberries—Bucky's recollection of his favorite, no doubt.

"Thank you, you two." Steve said sincerely as Hermione and Bucky joined him at the dining room table. After breakfast, Hermione and Bucky procured presents.

"It doesn't really count as a present from me, given that the money is Hermione's." Bucky commented ruefully as he passed the present towards Steve. Steve opened the gift warily followed by outright surprise and amusement. It was a mug—a tacky mug.

"I'm not 96; I'm 21 with 75 years of experience." Steve read the words on the cup with amusement and confusion that he expressed with a laugh.

"Thanks, Buck!" Steve said as Steve displayed the mug proudly. Hermione stepped forward next with a chest.

"This doesn't really count as a present from me—Bucky was the one who had the information I needed." Hermione said with a pointed look towards Bucky. Bucky's hair had fallen to hide his face and Steve opened the chest with cautious confusion. It was a folder of papers—some old and some new. "Bucky told me enough details about your friends that I was able to call in a few leads and track down their relatives." Hermione continued hesitantly as Steve shuffled the papers and gawked. "It seems a lot of your friends had some letters they had written to you when they disappeared, letters that their relatives kept—letters that are before you. Most of the relatives also wrote up some information about your friends lives and some are even willing to meet you if you have any additional questions." Hermione finished. Steve clenched his eyes tightly as he perused the letters. Dum-Dum, Jim—all of the Howling Commandos appeared to have written him and even SHIELD had not procured this information for him.

"Thank you." Steve said sincerely. He glanced at both Hermione and Bucky before swallowing his emotions again. "Thank you so much." Steve felt his eyes watering and he coughed. "Have you read them, Bucky?" Steve asked. Bucky's expression was guarded.

"No. Those letters weren't meant for me." Bucky said and Steve felt his heart tug. His friends had also been Bucky's friends. Surely he deserved the same closure. Hermione coughed to bring attention to herself.

"I hope you don't mind, Steve…but I also used the opportunity to get the letters for Bucky. I'm not sure meeting the relatives would work quite the same, but it seems they also had a few letters to you, Bucky." Hermione added and Steve was pleased. He noticed that Bucky's face had become sterner, harsher, but now Steve recognized the mask for what it was; Bucky was deeply moved despite his single nod of thanks.

After presents, they watched Disney movies all day in the closest semblance to the comradery they had had since their big fallout. They sat, all three of them, on the couch that Hermione magicked into a bed so they could all lay back as they2 watched. Hermione had smiled widely as Steve had idly chatted throughout the film and Bucky had even cracked a few jokes. It was so enjoyable, so calming, that Steve was loath to leave. It was with some trepidation that Steve returned to Avengers Tower. Even as Steve's motorcycle approached the tower, Steve felt his place on the couch calling him back home.

Steve had told Hermione about Tony's fascination with meeting her as well as his birthday party, but Steve already knew Bucky wouldn't leave the house until his triggers were removed. The whole 'still wanted criminal thing' was also an inconvenience. Steve had insisted that Bucky and Hermione stay home together. Hermione had frowned but had expressed interest in meeting the team in the future. That left Steve with some hope.

"Happy Birthday!" The team cried out, Sam included, as Steve entered the main floor of the housing levels. Steve laughed as Jarvis played 'For he's a jolly good fellow' over the speakers and Tony showered him with confetti. Thor had apparently returned from Asgard and hauled Steve up on his shoulders to jostle him around. Sam, Clint, and Natasha were twirling sound makers in a far more reserved manner. Bruce was clapping politely.

"Thor! Thank you!" Steve exclaimed. "You can set me down now!" Thor's booming laugh echoed in the high ceilings of the room.

"May you celebrate many years of birth, Midgardian Steve!" Thor proclaimed joyously. Steve smiled politely.

"Now, I know you think you can process alcohol too fast to properly imbibe…but I convinced Thor to bring some of his Asgardian liquor." Tony said with a smirk. Thor pulled out a small flask.

"This, Midgardian Steve, was aged for 1000 years from the barrels built from the wreck from Grunhel's fleet—it's not meant for mortal men!" Thor said with a grin. Steve accepted the small pour and smelled the potent brew. He nodded his head. This, he thought, might actually succeed in getting him drunk. A few shots later, he was surprisingly—and unexpectedly—tipsy.

"Hey there, Cap." Natasha said as she cornered him by the bar. Shit. Steve thought.

"Hey, Nat." Steve nodded his greeting. "How did your missions go?" Steve asked hesitantly. Nat smiled that dangerous smile Steve saw all too frequently on missions.

"No work tonight, Steve. Instead, I'm more interested in hearing about what you've been up to." Nat stared Steve down and Steve attempted to blink away his altered state; it failed. "Tell me about Penny."

-0-0-0-

Steve liked the Avengers, well enough. They had their flaws, had their issues, but they were genuinely good people underneath it all. Their small get together had been the first time the Avengers had actually assembled since the tower had become the Avengers Headquarter; it was nice that they had done so for him. They were good people—well on their way to becoming even better friends if not family—but Steve missed Hermione and Bucky. Despite spending the larger part of the day with them both, Steve regarded the fireworks with a sort of melancholy. He wanted to be back on Hermione's roof, watching the fireworks in the distance. The melancholy seemed to linger the longer he stayed and Steve wondered if he was just sad when he drank; it had been far too long since he had even been capable of checking that Steve could hardly remember the before.

"You alright, Cap?" Sam asked as he approached with a water bottle. Steve drank it gratefully. The rest of the Avengers were lounging on the couch. Nat caught his eye and smirked. Steve rubbed his face. Their conversation had not been pleasant. Steve had not yielded much useful information about Hermione but he had proceeded to fill the silence with an unnecessary soliloquy of all the things he liked about her and how she was awe-inspiring with the vaguest of reasons. Natasha had seemed surprised at the hour long monologue but eventually she was interrupting with questions, clarifications, and suggestions. Steve stopped rubbing his face as he leaned back to face the ceiling.

"The party was great, I just…" Steve trailed off unsure.

"You miss Penny and Toto." Sam said understandingly. Steve gave a smile laugh.

"You know Sam, he might kill you if you call him that, too." Steve reminded him.

"He called me a pigeon." Sam remembered bitterly. Steve flopped his head back into a normal posture.

"I told Natasha nothing and everything." Steve revealed miserably. Sam looked at him with amusement.

"She tried to hit me up early for information but apparently deemed you the weaker of us two." Sam smirked. Steve groaned, still feeling the room tilting. "You can leave, Steve." Sam said a moment later more seriously. "You can go home." Steve looked around. Natasha was talking with Banner and Stark. Thor was talking with Clint.

"I don't think I should be driving my motorcycle." Steve said as he stood. He was embarrassingly tipsy for how early it was; at least Thor and Tony looked equally inebriated.

"Woah, there Cap." Stark said as he spotted Steve's tottering. A light flashed and Steve realized Stark had taken a picture. Steve closed his eyes in annoyance. "If only we had a designated room for you to sleep this off. Oh I know! We could put you in your room!" Tony suggested.

"I'll take him home." Sam offered, guiding Steve slightly though it was largely unnecessary. "Cap's heading back home. I'm sure we'll see you tomorrow!" Sam announced to the groans of disappointment in the room.

"If he's so dedicated to returning home, I'll take him home." Tony graciously offered.

"You won't be able to." Steve piped up, seeing through his ploy.

"Then just call Penny here to pick you up." Tony suggested.

"That wouldn't make any sense." Sam noticed.

"Then I'll go with you so you aren't alone on the return." Tony bargained.

"I'll just stay over at Penny's again; she won't mind." Sam was steadfast.

"Then I'll return by myself— "Tony continued stubbornly.

"Tony. Let the poor guys go." Natasha called from Bruce's side. Clint snickered at the reprimand but Steve was thankful for the support—despite the reason he now had it. He flushed at the reminder of their conversation. He hoped Hermione's spells really did hold up because Tony and Nat were hard-pressed to find her.

"Alright, see you all tomorrow and thanks again!" Steve waved goodbye. The ride back to Hermione's was quiet.

"So Romanoff seems to approve." Sam commented and Steve groaned, covering his face.

"She's never going to let it go." Steve complained and Sam made a noise of agreement.

"Maybe you should do something about it." Sam commented. Steve looked at him askance. Sam had already texted Hermione who had confirmed that Sam was indeed welcome. Sam parked in the empty spot of the garage.

"Sam!" Hermione greeted happily as they entered. "Welcome back, Steve! How was the party?" Hermione asked. Steve brightened at the reception.

"It was good." Sam offered. "Steve even managed to get tipsy on some alien wine." Hermione flashed an amused look at Steve and he flushed at the appraising gaze.

"Oh? Remind me to see how magical alcohol works on you." Hermione said with a smile. "Bucky, you remember Sam?" Hermione said as she looked at the two who had been exchanging subtle hostile looks that stopped when they became5 the center of attention.

"Barnes." Sam nodded in acknowledgement.

"Wilson." Bucky returned with quiet control. Hermione coughed awkwardly as if she sensed the tension.

"Well I'm sure you already had cake…but Bucky mentioned you had a birthday tradition and I managed to run out and get this from a friend—they're really the best bakers in New York, you know—and well…I hope you like it." Hermione said, rambling as she dragged Steve forward. On the counter in the kitchen, a pie was loaded with candles. "Bucky purchased the candles…so we…well…they're on there." Hermione's mouth tweaked to the side but Steve gave a chuckle. 96 candles—there were 96 candles on the pie.

"It's apple." Bucky said from the side and Steve flashed him a grateful look. They had had cake at Tony's—very good cake—but apple pie was Steve's birthday tradition. They sang happy birthday before Steve blew the candles out. Hermione cut them pieces and he dug in with relish. They were the best pies in New York, Steve determined.

"Where did you get this?" Steve murmured appreciatively. Sam looked equally interested in the response.

"Kowalski bakery—I'm friends with the owners." Hermione revealed proudly. Vaguely Steve recalled a bakery by a similar name; the bakery must have existed for quite some time. The pie was polished off before the group moved to the living room to watch TV. At Steve's request, the Disney marathon continued but after the first movie Sam was begging off.

"You're welcome to take my room." Hermione offered. Sam adamantly refused. "I can just transfigure myself a bed from the couch in the basement." Hermione placated but Sam still refused.

"You can use my room." Steve offered.

"It's your birthday, Steve." Sam chastised. Steve shrugged.

"This couch is already made up and I'll be up late anyway." Steve defended. Reluctantly, Sam headed off to his room and they started the next movie. By the third movie, Bucky had allowed himself to relax beside Hermione, lounging in the transfigured bed so only his head was propped up to see the movie. Steve was equally relaxed, the sounds of Hermione's deep breathing lulling him into a similar sleep.

"You have a good birthday, Steve?" Bucky asked quietly from Hermione's other side.

"Yeah." Steve whispered tiredly. They shouldn't sleep here, cuddled up in the magic bed, but it was still technically Steve's birthday and he wanted to. "How was she?" Steve asked.

"Missed you, I think. I occupied her by talking about books." Bucky admitted and Steve was grateful Bucky was finally talking to her and keeping her company.

"We should stay here—make sure she's sleeping okay." Steve reasoned, not altogether altruistically. Bucky took a moment to respond.

"Just to keep an eye on her." Bucky capitulated, his voice tinged with the same sleepiness Steve felt.

"Protection purposes only." Steve mumbled. The sound of breathing, the warmth of his companions, and the utter radiating peace beckoned Steve into the most peaceful sleep he had had since they last slept together as a group.

-0-0-0-

"Isn't this cute."

Steve blinked slowly before his eyes propped open. The voice had been soft and low and now Steve realized why. Hermione was plopped across his chest and breathing deeply. A sound in the kitchen indicated Bucky was awake and cooking while Sam stared down at Steve, a cup of the newly stocked coffee in his hands. Sam was smirking at Steve and Steve realized why; now that Steve was awake he was going to be conscious of the way Hermione draped across him but unwilling to wake her up. Sam slinked off with a knowing look as Steve resisted the urge to stiffen.

The dins of the kitchen were followed by a wafting smell of bacon. After some time, Hermione's eyes finally fluttered open lazily as she made an appreciative sound that set Steve's insides on fire. Slowly she adjusted to her surroundings, eyes blinking. She looked well rested, the bruising of her eyes fading, though the gauntness seemed to have only moderately improved. Whatever magic she had done previously had seemingly faded and Steve took the time to study her so close.

Her nose was dusted with faint freckles he had forgotten existed. A small scar he never noticed graced her upper lip. Her cheek had a thin scar he could barely see even up close. She inhaled deeply before seemingly recognizing the position she was in. She leapt up in surprise so quickly that she fell back on the bed in a tumble of sheets.

"Good morning." Steve said with amusement.

"I-I'm sorry Steve." Hermione said as she was untangling her cloth prison. "I must have fallen asleep! Merlin! I'm terribly sorry about that." Hermione had freed herself and was looking at him abashed. "And Bucky, too." Hermione added.

"Breakfast." Sam called merrily from the kitchen. Bucky had laid out the table and Hermione excused herself briefly to her bedroom. Sam was smirking at Bucky and Steve from across the table. "You know what I don't get?" Sam said nonchalantly. Steve looked at his friend. "Why do you both act like you don't want to wake up next to her every morning? Barnes here sprung up like a daisy the minute I stepped out of the hall." Sam continued. Steve and Bucky looked at him equally aghast.

"We're not—that's not— "Steve was interrupted when Hermione returned in a change of clothing. She was directly across from Steve as they ate, avoiding Steve's gaze in embarrassment but in doing so she allowed Steve to regard her unhindered. He noticed that the freckles on her face had disappeared, the small scars were no longer visible; she was using magic, he realized. Sam disappeared to shower and change before their return to Avenger tower, leaving the trio alone at the table. Silence was descending but all Steve could do was think of the calm he felt as he went to sleep the night before and the happiness he felt with Hermione in his arms. Secondarily, he remembered that her magic had failed overnight and had allowed him a glimpse behind her mask.

"Sorry about last night." Hermione apologized again. Bucky waved off the apology but Steve was still contemplating.

"I enjoyed it." Steve admitted. Hermione and Bucky were both glancing at him in surprise. "I haven't slept that well since our last sleepover." Steve continued.

"So did I." Hermione admitted softly, jumping in surprise as if she realized she had admitted it aloud.

"Do you mind if we have more?" Steve continued boldly. Hermione was flushing and Bucky was looking at him like he was crazy, but Steve did not retract his statement.

"Ye-yes! I mean no! I mean—of course you are welcome; you're always invited." Hermione still looked shocked but she perked up significantly in a way that reassured him. It wasn't until Steve had returned from Avenger tower again that Bucky had a chance to address his decision.

"I'm not sleeping over." Bucky began gruffly. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep next to her last night." Bucky continued with regret. Steve waved him off.

"You and I—and Hermione—all slept better together. If that isn't a good enough reason than you should know her magic faded overnight." Steve observed. Bucky looked at him curiously. "When she was asleep this morning I saw her freckles and scars but after she went to her bedroom and returned, they were gone." Steve explained.

"So if we see her when she sleeps, we can check if she is getting better or worse." Bucky identified. Steve nodded. Bucky sighed but seemed to agree with his logic as they both followed Hermione into her room that night. Hermione blushed as she set up their old blanket nest.

"I can make the bed larger instead if you'd like." Hermione mumbled softly. Bucky shook his head.

"The floor is fine." Bucky announced. Steve was adjusting the blankets when two plush bears rolled out.

"Is this…are those our bears?" Steve asked as he picked one up. Hermione blushed as he observed them.

"This one has a metal arm." Bucky recognized quietly. Hermione's face turned a deeper red.

"I can transfigure it back—it was your gift, after all." Hermione offered. Bucky shrugged.

"I wasn't using it; you can keep it however you please." Bucky dismissed as he adjusted in the nest for sleep. They slipped into bed, an odd energy in the air. The night was a mix of conscious tension and unconscious reassurance. Hermione did not sing a lullaby but Steve chatted amiably with her. Though Bucky still refused to touch Hermione, Hermione seemed unfazed. As she fell to sleep again, Steve noticed Bucky remaining vigilant, but Steve was warm and sleepy. Steve faded into a deep sleep.

Steve noted in the morning that Hermione's complexion seemed better—that she seemed better. Bucky agreed and despite his blatant hesitations, Steve noted, dutifully climbed into bed beside her the next night and the next. A new routine developed, stolen from their once-routine, and it all began from Steve's very happy birthday, he reflected. As his hand inched closer to Hermione's—almost touching but not quite—Bucky's presence reassuring on her other side, he realized that this was right. This was where he belonged; this was home.