Their Little Witch
Chapter 20
T'Challa had found Harry after his meeting with the British Minister, a sour look on his face,
"Your Shacklebolt is very annoying."
Harry cocks an eyebrow,
"He was alright when he was just an order member, we got on okay."
T'Challa puts a hand on Harry's shoulder, leading him to a small table with two chairs,
"Power changes people, Harry. It corrupts. Minister Shacklebolt believes he's doing the right thing, and it's that belief that makes him a dangerous man right now."
Harry sits down slowly,
"And what does he want?"
"To be blunt, he wants a poster boy. He wants the Chosen One to tell wizarding Britain how good they are, how things are changing for the better. He also has a formal warrant for the arrest of Miss Granger. He plans to return every day this week until you meet with him and I would advise that you don't do this until your friend is recovered."
Harry scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully,
"Won't that be a bother for you?"
T'Challa grins,
"On the contrary, I believe I will quite enjoy telling your Minister that you are too busy to speak with him. This is no burden on me."
Harry just agrees, content to allow T'Challa to terrorise the older man for a while.
For almost a week, things didn't really change. Harry spent his days avoiding Minister Shacklebolt, usually in the field with Steve and Bucky, and sometimes Luna, he was getting better with the gun, it felt more natural in his hand now and he was missing less often. Luna had picked it up almost embarrassingly quickly, she'd taken to it with the same grace that she had taken to everything, it just came naturally.
He'd also spent a lot of time writing letters that never got a reply. At first, he'd been hurt. But he wasn't twelve anymore, and no manipulating Headmaster was telling people not to write, so he took it on his chin and figured he'd talk to them about it on his eventual return.
Hermione hadn't changed much, her arm was getting better, but mentally she was still disappointingly absent. Sometimes, on the good days, he felt almost certain that she was looking at him, not through him or by him, but right at him. There were just these moments of pure clarity, like she had something to say, but then she'd be gone. She'd visited him twice more in the night after he'd had a minor emotional moment, but she'd always been back with Bucky before morning.
Bucky had earned Harry's respect quite quickly. He didn't flinch or falter when Hermione needed looking after, he'd fed her and helped her sleep, remarking yesterday morning that his shoes and socks must have stank, because he'd woken up and they'd been banished outside of the room. He was very patient, despite how much the situation was beginning to affect him.
They all felt it, really. The bit of hope they'd found was starting to dwindle, her scans were coming up clear and normal, but she just wasn't home.
It was early morning, he'd just left his room for breakfast when he'd felt it, a sharp pain in the back of his head that had him sprawling to his knees, a short gasp coming out of his mouth, and then there was a gun in his face, a gun he recognised. Bucky's gun.
He followed the gun with his eyes, coming face to face with a very awake, very angry looking Hermione,
"How dare you wear his face!?"
And then the gun was brought down on his temple and his vision faded.
When he came back to, Luna, Steve and Bucky were stood over him, each with a concerned frown on their face,
"What happened? Who did this?"
"Shall I get T'Challa? Has there been a breach?"
Harry groans, clutching his pounding head and sitting up. Luna gives him a bright red pain potion, and if she wasn't dating Steve, he'd have kissed her. He downed it, feeling almost instant relief before meeting their eyes,
"I'm actually fairly certain it was Hermione."
Luna frowns suspiciously,
"How can you only be fairly certain?"
He rolls his eyes,
"Because there was a gun in my face, slightly distracting, yeah?"
Bucky runs a hand down his jacket, a dark frown on his face,
"My gun is gone."
Harry just gestures at him in a 'See?' way that makes Luna swat his arm.
When Harry stands, it's with horror that he realises,
"Guys, my wand is gone, too."
A look of dawning realisation slides down their faces and they pull him to his feet,
"We have to find her, now. Where would she go?"
Luna contemplates for a moment, her voice small,
"If I thought I'd been captured, I'd get out of the building first, then work out where I am from there."
Bucky puckers up his lips,
"She won't know. She's dangerous."
Steve nods slowly,
"We have to find her before anyone else does."
Harry frowns,
"She said something to me, too."
Luna eyes him,
"What?"
"She said," He takes a deep breath, "and I quote, 'How dare you use his face!?' but I don't understand."
Luna sucks in a sharp breath,
"She thinks you're dead," Her voice, despite being a whisper, is filled with uncertainty, "Our job just got so much harder."
Steve wraps his arms over her shoulders,
"How so?"
But it's Bucky who answers, his voice like steel,
"She's going to think we're all death eaters in disguise."
As they start walking, Steve's voice fills the hall,
"How did she get out of your room without you noticing, Buck?"
"I was in the shower, she was still sleeping when I left, I figured Shuri had come to get her when she was gone."
Steve nods and they walk faster, unsure of just how much of a head start Hermione had managed to get.
Once they got outside, Luna had used the point me spell, her wand showing her which way to go.
Hermione had gone into the woods, which wasn't reassuring at all.
Hermione was terrified; the last thing she remembered was pain. Excruciating, never ending pain. Then, she'd woken up in a strange room, with no wand and no indication of where she was. She'd found a jacket, though, hung over a wardrobe. In the inside pocket, she'd found a gun.
She'd looked around, and for a moment she had considered staying. Maybe she could get useful information for the order, but she didn't know if there even was an order anymore. If they'd won, she should have woken up basically anywhere but here. The Burrow, Hogwarts, even the Compound.
In the end, the thought of more torture had sent her running from the room. She couldn't do it, she wasn't strong enough. And she'd promised Bucky that she'd come back to him, she remembered that.
Her blood had turned to fire when she'd seen Harry. Harry was dead, he'd died a hero. How dare any dirty, useless death eater think they were worthy to use his face? It wouldn't work, she wouldn't fall for that, but she couldn't let it go without a warning. She'd do it to anyone wearing that face.
She'd wanted to shoot him, she wanted justice, but the sound would have alerted any other death eaters that she was up. So, she'd hit him. Hard. Her fury doubled when she'd seen the wand, her old wand that Harry had been using. Her brother, Harry. She'd snatched it away, her chest tightening uncomfortably.
And she'd ran, and ran and ran until her legs had given out, and then she rested for a minute before running again. She'd sped right out of a door, her heart stopping when she'd realised that she had no idea where she was and no way to contact anyone. Nothing here was familiar. The buildings looked odd, and the whole place was surrounded by forest and jungle. She'd figured her best bet would be to be unseen, so she'd ran for the trees, and just kept going. She'd tripped over roots, scraped her hands on the bark of the trees and had been whipped by various branches, but she didn't slow until she didn't have a choice. She'd reached a cliff edge, a beautiful waterfall.
She'd stopped, her legs burned and her lungs felt like they didn't fit in her ribs anymore, and she'd almost crawled to the cliff edge, allowing herself just a moment to catch her breath and take in her surroundings. She had to admit, the place was stunning. She'd found herself just past a forest, sitting on a very high cliff edge next to the top of a waterfall. Below her, a large river flowed, separating the civilization from what appeared to be miles of jungle, lush and green. For the first time in what she assumed to be her life, Hermione had no idea where she was and that terrified her.
She felt hot, wet tears sliding down her cheeks and she angrily brushed them away with the back of her hand, this was no time for crying. She figured if she wanted to stand even a chance of escape, she had to cross the river and hike through the jungle. She got the feeling that it sounded a lot easier than it was going to be.
For the first time since waking up, she looked down at her clothes. Her previous outfit had been replaced with simple white linens, and she hadn't been wearing shoes. She sighed, thinking of the blisters and cuts her feet were about to endure.
Hermione rose shakily to her feet, wringing her hands in front of her. She was still carrying both the gun and the wand. She would need to fashion some form of bag at some point. She was trying to remember if she knew how to swim. Her memories were still hazy, but she got the feeling that it was a skill that she hadn't given much thought to before.
Unfortunately for her, this river was about half a mile thick, and there was a big chance that she wouldn't make it across without at least some swimming. She didn't even know how deep it was. She nibbled on her lower lip, looking down the drop at where she would certainly fall if this went wrong. It was a very very long drop.
Her heart beat hard in her chest; she didn't need her memories to know she was afraid of heights. That much was obvious.
A familiar voice broke through her thoughts, and she turned sharply, raising both the wand and the gun, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her.
No. No.
The death eaters were stretching to new forms of torture, and this was so much worse. She was staring at the faces of the people she loved, Bucky, Harry, Luna and Steve. Her hands shook as she aimed her weapons. Duel wielding wasn't her specialty, and she was definitely out numbered. Then a thought hit her that made her want to be violently ill. They'd gotten Harry's face because he was dead, did that mean?... No. It couldn't.
They were approaching her and she let out a snarl, steadying her hands,
"How dare you." She seethed, "How dare you use their faces?"
The one who was imitating Luna stepped forward, they'd even stolen her voice,
"Hermione, it's us. I promise, just lower the wand and the gun and we will help you."
For a single moment, she was almost tempted. But that's what they want; they want her to feel comfortable.
"It won't work. You won't fool me," Her voice was thick and she was vaguely aware that she was crying again, "But I swear, on everything I have, that if you've hurt them, I'll come back and kill you all, do you understand?"
The Luna-Look-A-Like frowned with a hint of deceptive confusion,
"Hurt who?"
Her eyes flash dangerously, she can feel her magic spiking,
"My friends. I'll find them, and when I do, if they're hurt, I'll kill you."
The one with Bucky's face approaches her, but she points the wand at that one dangerously,
"Whoever you are, you'd better thank your lucky stars that I'm rather fond of that particular face, because right now, I-I can't bring myself to shoot it."
She feels her voice crack and she shakes herself, flicking her eyes over her shoulder. They're pushing her backwards, towards the cliff edge. She swallowed thickly when Luna's voice filled her ears again, making her heart clench painfully,
"We are your friends. I'm really Luna Lovegood, that's James Barnes, Steve Rogers and Harry Potter."
She felt her resolve hardening,
"Harry Potter died a hero. I saw the body. My friends are worth a hundred of you."
But its Harry's voice that almost breaks her, the deceptively pleading tone almost makes her cave,
"Please, Hermione, just come with us. We'll explain everything, I swear."
Just come with us.
The words bounced around her skull, memories of the cruciatus curse making her skin hurt and her eyes water, she wouldn't survive it again. Her eyes flicker to the Bucky look-a-like and she felt herself soften slightly, her voice betraying her,
"I know you're not him. I know that, but God, Bucky, I am so sorry. I'm not strong enough for this, and I promised I'd come back to you, no matter what the cost." She almost smiles sadly,
"I won't be a prisoner again."
And then she threw herself backwards, ignoring the screaming around her. She closed her eyes, praying that she would reach the river. The goal wasn't to die, it was to live.
She felt like she should scream, but she didn't have it in her. She opened her eyes to look at the sky, it was sunny and blue, not a cloud in sight. And then there was a black and silver shape rushing towards her, the silver flashing out and grabbing her shirt, tugging her to a chest and she frowned, looking up into Fake-Bucky's face and seeing only fear,
"How did you get his arm?"
Then their bodies hit the water.
It was freezing cold, shocking the air right out of her lungs. She felt her body hitting rocks as she sank lower, the silver hand had loosened its grip just enough that her body had been tugged away by the flow of the water and she'd realised with a start that no, she didn't know how to swim.
She tried to push her body to the top of the water, to get some air, but the water was stronger than her and she was cartwheeling through it. She could see Bucky, and she let herself believe that he was hers. Her Bucky. And when he reached his hand out to her, she reached back. With a sharp tug that had definitely damaged her shoulder, she felt herself being pulled against the water and into his chest. He used his feet to propel them both back to the surface and she gasped in a large lungful of air, clinging to him for a second, coughing up down his back while he held her in a very tight embrace,
"It's my arm you bloody idiot."
She looked at his face, she wanted to believe him, she really did.
"Can you swim?"
When she shook her head, he'd glared,
"I'll deal with that later. Hold on." He'd positioned her on his back, pushing them both against the flow of the water and back to shore. When they'd reached the muddy edge, she'd let him go, rolling onto her back to catch her breath.
In her hands, she was still clutching the gun and the wand.
Bucky appeared above her, straddling her hips. She didn't fight him when he pinned her hands above her head, his breathing hard. His eyes were dark and locked on her and Hermione suddenly felt very exposed. He used one hand to hold both of hers, his other hand coming down to cup her cheek,
"Is it really you, Hermione?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"
He slid the gun and the wand away, they came to a halt somewhere above her and he pressed his head into hers,
"If you ever scare me like that again, Doll, you'll put me in an early grave."
Hermione tensed, Bucky had been the only person to ever call her 'Doll'. And only they knew that. Only her friends and Bucky himself. Her breath caught in her throat,
"Bucky?"
And then he beamed, his gorgeous Bucky-smile that always made her melt,
"Yeah, Doll. It's me, I got you."
She had so many questions, but right at that moment, none of them mattered,
"You just followed me off a cliff!"
He laughed, a hysterical laugh that made her want to cry,
"Of course I did, of course I did. I hadn't even got you back yet and you went and jumped off a cliff!"
He pressed his forehead to hers; bringing one of her hands to his chest so she could feel his heart racing,
"And then, and then you tell me you can't even swim. What kind of sucky plan was that!?"
She swallows the lump in her throat,
"I woke up alone, afraid and I couldn't even remember if I could swim or not until I hit the water. What happened?"
"So much. So much happened."
She can feel his breath on her cheek, making a warm feeling spread through her chest, despite the now soaked and heavy clothing she wore. Her eyes meet his tentatively, his gaze was fierce and yet so soft, his lips just centimetres from hers and she closed her eyes in anticipation, only to feel his shoulders sag as the sound of running footsteps reach their ears.
She flicks her eyes to his face, a tight ball of fear spreading through her chest that makes her struggle against him, the need to flea filling her and Bucky just grips her slightly tighter,
"It's okay, Doll. I'm right here; I wouldn't let anything hurt you."
His eyes follow her lower lip as she nibbles it, his gaze hot in a way that makes her cheeks rush with warmth,
"Promise me this is real?"
She can hear the childish pleading in her own voice and it makes her wince, but he just smiles at her,
"I promise you, Doll. This is as real as it gets."
When he's confident that she's not going to run off or do anything similarly stupid, he rises to his feet, helping her to stand as well. He scoops up the gun and the wand, turning to her,
"Can you even use a gun?"
She didn't feel the need to dignify that with an answer, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair,
"You will be the death of me. My gravestone will say 'Killed by stupidity'."
She flinches into his side when the others come tearing through the tree line, fear and shame trickling into her. Part of her believed Bucky- that this was real, that she was safe, but that didn't explain Harry. Everyone's looking at her as the words fall from her mouth,
"Am I dead? Did we all die?"
For a single moment, no one says anything. Then Luna steps towards her, offering her hands out,
"I imagine that if this were heaven, your clothes would be dry by now. We're alive, Hermione, and we're us."
Hermione slowly detaches herself from Bucky's side, stepping forward apprehensively before sprinting at Luna, bowling the two girls into the floor,
"I am so sorry, Luna."
Luna's laughing as she lies on the ground, a real bubble of pure relief and joy had exploded in her chest, leaving her feeling giddy. She didn't even complain when Hermione stood up, giving Steve a hug too,
"I am so glad that you're okay."
Then her eyes turn to Harry, who steps backwards in alarm, raising his hands as if in self-defence,
"'Mione-" Her hand connects with his cheek, effectively cutting him off with the force of her slap,
"Harry Potter! You utter prat! You died! I saw your body!"
Harry winces, rubbing his cheek,
"But I did come back?"
Hermione snarls, patting her pockets before turning to Bucky,
"Where's my wand? I need my wand."
Bucky just stands there as she approaches him, he's almost tempted to give her the wand just to see what she would do, but the fear on Harry's face struck something in him and so, instead, he smiles softly at her,
"Doll, he's alive."
And she seemed to stop in her tracks, a rush of emotions hitting her all at once. The fear, the desperation, the sheer anguish at seeing the body and now, the complete and utter relief that he was here. She could feel the sob before she heard it, making her knees buckle and she turns to Harry,
"Why didn't you say goodbye?"
And as she reaches the ground, Harry reaches her, pulling her into his chest and stroking her hair,
"Because I was stupid and scared and I thought if I'd told you, you'd have done something incredibly stupid, like follow me."
She's crying on him, and she's horribly embarrassed, but she can't stop herself,
"I would have gone with you. I would have."
He's rocking her,
"I'm so sorry, 'Mione. I never wanted to hurt you. Not ever."
Hermione sniffles, wiping her face with her hands,
"Why are you here, Harry?"
Her brown orbs meet his green ones, reflecting the question at him and he sighs,
"How about, we go back, get you cleaned and dried, and then we can talk about everything you've missed? Can you walk that far?"
She just nods, rising to her feet,
"I stink of river water."
Harry chuckles wetly,
"Yeah you do."
Hermione lets Bucky hold her hand as they walk, he's as gross and slimy as she is and for a split second, she considers asking if he would shower with her, to save on water of course. Then she banishes the thought away with a blush that makes him look at her curiously and she finds that she can't meet his eyes.
Luna, who had witnessed the sudden change in her two friends, smirked knowingly, leaning into Steve as she walked.
While they're walking, she becomes acutely aware of the pain tearing through her shoulder. She moves it gently, wincing as the pain races up through her neck, Bucky looks at her apologetically,
"I didn't mean to hurt you."
She squeezed his hand,
"S'not your fault. But, if you're feeling guilty, I'll let you rub it better for me." His eyes turn wide and she grins at him, enjoying the light blush that spreads up his face,
"I-I can do that."
Bucky's shy smile makes butterflies flutter in her stomach and she has to look away to stop a blush from spreading up her own face.
Luna giggles, her wispy voice calling out,
"This can't be comfortable on your feet; I imagine they must be getting all scratched and grazed."
Bucky looks down at her feet in alarm and she supposes that while it's not the biggest concern on her mind, her feet were getting a bit tender.
"You're not wearing shoes!"
Hermione blinks at him,
"Well observed."
And then she's in the air, being carried again,
"I'm beginning to think that you just enjoy picking me up, Mister Barnes."
Bucky doesn't look at her, but she hears Luna giggle and Steve's whispered
"She's onto him, now."
"It's not my fault if you're always injured."
She grins cheekily,
"So, if I wasn't hurt, you wouldn't want to carry me?" Her tone is teasing and light and Bucky holds her a bit tighter,
"I don't owe you any answers."
She thinks for a moment,
"Well, if you're helping the injured, I hit Harry in the head with a gun twice. I'm sure he could use some help, too,"
Bucky's eyes narrow at her,
"Nasty witch, you are. I don't know why I'm so nice to you."
Hermione curls into his chest, sharing their small bit of body warmth, a content smile on her face.
"That gun hurt, you know?"
Hermione flings her head back to look at Harry, narrowing her eyes slightly,
"Well, it wasn't exactly meant to tickle you."
He huffs and she laughs.
Steve clears his throat, bringing Hermione's attention to him,
"Why did you jump into the river? Why didn't you apparate to the other side?"
Bucky frowns, tensing his jaw,
"Captain Reckless doesn't get to give advice. Keep your dodgy advice to yourself, Punk."
Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly and Bucky grins,
"Do it again, Stevie, maybe you'll find your brain," Bucky pulls Hermione up so he can stage whisper into her ear, "His mother did promise me that he actually has one, but I've yet to see the proof."
She snorts, letting out a loud giggle that makes her sides hurt and Steve bumps shoulders with Bucky, an amused grin on his face. Luna skips alongside them, dragging Harry with her,
"She couldn't apparate because she would have splinched herself."
Steve looks at Luna,
"Splinch?"
She hums at him,
"Could be a paper cut, could mean leaving half your body behind. That would certainly have been unpleasant. We're lucky the wrackspurts only made her jump."
Hermione could have flinched at the dark looks on both Steve and Bucky's faces,
"How is it we're only hearing about this now?"
Harry is content to let the girls' burn through this one, and Hermione saves Luna from more heat,
"To be fair, apparition is the most dangerous form of travel but ONLY if you're not focussed. For example, I splinched Ron because we apparated while running away from a death eater, my panic left him with a scar on his shoulder. It's only a problem if you're not paying attention."
Steve grabs Luna's hand and Hermione frowns in confusion, when had that happened?
A.N. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Marvel. Please review! Please remember that this doesn't follow canon at all, so some of the characters may behave a bit differently to what you are used to! If anyone wants to design me a cover, please feel free!