Come Together Chapter 14 - Heroism Part 2

AN:

Oni: Sorry for the wait, y'all! Real life got in the way, so I haven't had much time to write. Still, here's the next chappie!

Tom: This Chapter was influenced by another crossover fanfiction called Of Old Soldiers and Missing Wars by NonchalantxFish. Apparently it will give you 'feels'.

Oni: *sobbing uncontrollably*

Tom: *gives Oni a hug* There there...

Steve: Anyway, a big Thank You for all of your kind words, and for Following and Favoriting this fanfiction. It really means a lot.

Tom: Stop being so dramatic Steve, we're not going away anytime soon.

Bucky: We just hit 500 Follows!

Howard: *throws combusting confetti*

Monty: Oni does not own the Marvel Cinematic Universe nor the Harry Potter franchise.

Oni: Aaaand ONWARDS!

High above the Atlantic Ocean, Captain Steve Rogers did battle with one of the worst bullies he had ever come across - Johann Schmidt, also known as the Red Skull. The HYDRA leader's goons were dead, one buried beneath the sea inside a propelled bomber, and the others either gunned down or knocked out. The back end of the Valkyrie was damaged due to the fact that Steve had just crashed one of said propeller bombers into it from behind (something he knew the guys would get a kick out of once they heard about it). Blasts of blue light crashed into his shield as Schmidt began his attack.

"You don't give up, do you?" the Red Skull sneered out, holding the large gun powered by the energy of the Tesseract.

The Tesseract. An object of magic, he knew now. Did Schmidt know what that thing was capable of? Did anyone? Steve had often wondered since he found out if such an artifact should have been uncovered by man. Perhaps it would have been better if it were still buried, lost to time, regarded as merely a myth.

"Nope!" Steve answered before rushing towards the man who threatened to destroy all that he held dear.

Within seconds he managed to close the distance between them and knock the gun out of the madman's hands. Fists flew and feet kicked as a scuffle for victory ensued, with both men getting thrown around by the other and Steve getting bashed by his own shield at least once. A chance arose a moment later and the star spangled man (no longer a dancing monkey, now a beacon of hope, fighting for the right for all to live free) rammed the Red Skull into the flight console, causing the plane to plummet.

Both fighters were forced to the roof, where they began a fight anew. A swift kick sent Steve to the back of the room and allowed enough time for Schmidt to engage the autopilot function and return the Valkyrie back to cruising position. Steve landed back on the ground with an audible thump, but was quick to recover. A good thing he did, as the Red Skull pulled out a Tesseract-powered pistol from his holster.

"You could have the power of the gods!" shouted Schmidt as he fired at Steve, "Yet you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of nations! I have seen the future, Captain! There are no flags!"

Steve didn't even want to comment on the sheer irony of the man's words and actions. Appealing to your enemy whilst trying to kill him was generally not a good way of going about convincing him of your point of view. Furthermore, did the 'no flags' rule apply to the HYDRA flag as well? Because that thing was an eyesore, and everywhere. Steve silently wished that Bucky was there with him, as he would have really taunted the Red Skull with his wit. Better yet, get Tom's rapid fire snark to retaliate that notion (You look like a walking flag, the man had once said, when they had first gotten all their uniforms and he could still remember the sound of Bucky's laughter. How ironic those words come again now, from the mouth of an enemy instead of a friend). Despite those thoughts whirling through his mind, Captain America voiced none of them aloud.

"Not my future!" was all he managed to say before barrel rolling down to the main cockpit, flinging his shield at Schmidt and making the man crash into the glowing blue machine at the center of the room.

With a strange pulsing, almost gurgling cry, a glowing object rose from the metal cylinder in a burst of blue lightning. Energy crackled around it, like cerulean fire, lingering around the object that shone with an unnaturally bright light. Squinting his eyes, Steve realized that said object was a cube. A glowing blue cube of infinite magical energy (as Tom would probably call it, with eyes sparkling at the thought of studying it, eyes with shifting colors exactly like the artifact in front of him), finally revealed. Schmidt stood upon shaking legs, wobbling towards the exposed Tesseract.

"What have you done?" the Red Skull murmured aloud, picking up the cube with one hand, "No!" he breathed out, the word barely a whisper and yet the horror it conveyed reached Steve's ears loud and clear.

The man narrowed his eyes at the Tesseract in his hand, tilting his head (as if he were pondering it. Maybe Schmidt only now noticed the wild energy of the artifact, instead of merely the power it held) and staring at the cube with an expression that bordered on awe and fear. Freed from its cage, the blue cube began the grow brighter, flexing its energy like a liberated lion stretching its legs. It felt right to regard the Tesseract as a wild animal to Steve (Tom and Monty had taught him that highly powerful magical artifacts always had a mind and personality of their own. This one was no different), and like a wild animal that had been unfairly used and abused, it turned on its master. The sound it made was akin to a roar - an ethereal, breathy cry. Blue energy crackled like lightning, spreading out and filling the walls and flying up to the ceiling, where the Tesseract's energy gathered.

With a burst of light and sound, the ceiling was no longer there, and Steve looked up, mesmerized, at a sky untouched by light pollution with stars and cosmic clouds. The kind he saw when he looked up in the wilderness with his team, Dum Dum Dugan snoring away next to a much quieter Falsworth while Gabe Jones and Jim Morita listened sleepily for any stray HYDRA chatter, Dernier muttering in French as he slept. Steve would usually stay awake and keep watch with Bucky and Tom, staring up at the heavens above and marveling at the innumerable pinpricks of light that stretched across the expanse from horizon to horizon. Stars like that were breathtaking to those who never had the chance to see the wold above for what it was - vast and endless. It was in those moments of quiet and beauty that they told stories of home, of Brooklyn and its light pollution and fun, of Hogwarts and its solitude and majesty.

(You'd like Hogwarts, he could hear the smooth voice of a soldier, tinged with slight homesickness as he regaled to the two Americans stories of the school, there's no city lights and the ceiling in the Great Hall is bewitched to look like the sky outside.)

Unbidden, this memory rose to the surface of his mind.

So lost was Steve, drinking in a sight that displayed the truth of the nature of the Tesseract that he didn't even realize that Schmidt was there until the man's screams mixed with the artifact's roar, a pure beam of power pouring from the cube up into the starry abyss above. The beam grew and grew, swallowing the Red Skull whole as the Tesseract took its prisoner into the unknown, a wave of energy washing over the room (and perhaps more, was that a sonic boom?) as the doorway closed.

(Elsewhere, Tom Riddle panicked as the Tracking Charm he placed on Steve is destroyed by a force more powerful than he could yet comprehend, not that he knew that tidbit. He was too busy trying to convince himself that Steve was fine, and that he would be back soon.)

With the gateway gone, the Tesseract dropped down with a rather humble clunk, burning through the grate floor and the bottom of the plane itself, falling to the sea below. Steve wondered if the metal was that weak against the artifact, or if the Tesseract was still burning from its outburst. It didn't really matter, though, as there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Going to the slightly damaged control, Steve sat down in the pilot's seat and scanned the displays in front of him. Just as he had feared, the plane was still headed for New York, and at the speed it was going, the whole East Coast would be wiped out in a few minutes. Checking the switch, the American soldier grimaced when he noted that the autopilot function was stuck. If he was going to manually override it, he would have to stick with it until the end or the autopilot would save the plane and everything would be for nought.

I'm with ya 'til the end of the line.

Bucky's voice rang in his ears, the words a parody of its intended meaning, as Steve reached over the console and turned on the radio hoping that it was connected to the radio tower back at the HYDRA headquarters (that should be in SSR custody by now).

"Come in." he said in what Tom would call his 'leader voice', trying to hide the unease he felt, the fear that gripped his being, "This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?"

The radio crackled to life, and Steve let out a sigh of relief. He was greeted by the familiar voice of Jim Morita, signaling that the HYDRA base had been successfully captured.

"Captain Rogers," the rather tech-savvy Commando began, "what is your-"

"Steve!" Jim was cut off by two overlapping voices, belonging to the same people that helped him get on the plane in the first place, Peggy Carter (his girl) and Tom Riddle (his little brother).

"Is that you? Are you alright?" Peggy then asked, which was followed by Tom's relieved voice adding, "It's good to hear your voice, Captain."

It was no wonder how they got along so well with Bucky. They all liked to worry over him like mother hens (granted, Steve himself had done much the same thing with them, but that was beside the point), fearing for his safety and trying to protect him despite the fact he could now knock a guy's lights out with a single punch.

"Peggy! Tom!" he heard himself shout, knowing that it was the last time he would get to say those names, "Schmidt's dead."

And unlike most people, they just saw him as Steve Grant Rogers, the guy who never ran from a fight instead of Captain America, the Star Spangled Man With A Plan. It was going to hurt leaving them. Maybe he would be able to watch over them, like Bucky probably was already.

"What about the plane?" Peggy asked, getting to the point as always.

Again he tried to dislodge the autopilot without breaking the mechanism. No change. He let out a large breath, half exhaustion and half nerves, feeling like he had asthma all over again.

"That's a little bit tougher to explain." Steve answered, knowing there wasn't enough time to explain.

But it didn't matter. Already he knew that Tom and Peggy were mentally picking apart his words and seeing the underlying meaning of them, like they always did. On the other end he could hear Tom muttered something about a Tracking Charm and an energy fluctuation.

"Give us your coordinates." his girl ordered, effectively drowning out the younger Brit's muttering (which in another situation would have been hilarious), "We'll find you a safe landing site."

Blue eyes flecked with green flickered to the display once more. Six nukes still in the back. His mission ended here, alone in a plane headed for the ocean deep.

"There's not going to be a safe landing." Steve sighed out, looking out towards the endless blue sky filled with clouds rapidly passing by, "But I can try and force it down."

Well, not completely alone. The voices crackling through the radio gave him a little comfort, knowing that they'll be alright. Even now, they were trying to find a way to bring him back. It was too bad he was trying to commit their voices to memory, their exact cadence and melody, pairing it up to what he recalled (vividly) of their faces.

"I'll get Howard on the line," was Peggy's instant reply, "he'll know what to do."

"There's not enough time." he shouted, only now realizing how breathless he sounded, "This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York."

Steve paused, looking at the rolling sky and all its wonder. How many times had he seen the same sight with nervousness and excitement, on a raid with his Commandos? Their faces came to the forefront of his mind, laughing, smiling, rolling their eyes. Their voices followed after, sharing a story, joke, a song. The soldier, ready to die, tried to recall a mental image of what he was leaving behind. Not the legacy (for why would he care about things like that?) but the people that he had come to know and love.

He had paused for too long.

"Steve." came Tom's smooth voice, uncharacteristically somber and filled with dread, "Please don't do this."

"I gotta put her in the water."

Why did such a simple sentence hurt to say?

"Please, don't do this." came Peggy's worried voice, echoing Tom, who had repeated the phrase alongside her, "W-we have time, we can work it out."

"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere." Captain America replied, his eyes returning to the map display on the console where the plane indicator neared the coastline with every passing second, "If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die."

An odd noise crackled from the radio, and Steve realized that Tom was growling in frustration. Showing that much emotion was never something the wizard did publicly, so the fact that he was doing so now told the supersoldier just how distraught the young adult was.

"Steve..." Tom began, his tone almost pleading, but Steve cut him off.

Begging was not something Tom Riddle ever did, and he would be damned if he was the one who made the kid start.

"This is my choice."

The proclamation was met with silence. There was nothing anyone could say to that.

With his words bringing in a sense of finality to his actions, Steve Rogers fished out from his pocket a silver compass. It had been a joint gift from Peggy, Tom, and Bucky for his birthday. His old tarnished compass with Peggy's newspaper clipping had been lost during the fall of Nurmengard, and the trio had pitched in to get him a new one. Peggy had bought the actual compass, but Tom had etched runes all around the case (Hopefully you don't lose this one, wouldn't want it to fall into the wrong hands, you see). Bucky had instead provided a small photograph, taken by Howard during one of their many outings to the Leaky Pot, that fit perfectly into the interior of the compass.

He placed the small device on the Valkyrie's own compass display. Looking back at him was the grinning face of Howard, who had his arm slung around a smirking Tom alongside an equally beaming Bucky. They were seated around the bar (their usual spot) with Peggy sitting in a chair in front of them, her smiling face front and center. He doubted Peggy and Tom were smiling this way now.

Steve's resolve hardened. With renewed determination he clutched the manual controls and tipped the plane downwards, forcing the aircraft into a nosedive. Once more his eyes returned to the smiling faces on the compass.

"Peggy, Tom." he called out.

He wanted to hear them one last time.

"We're here." came the instant, simultaneous reply.

A comfort, to take his mind off of what was about to happen. Like how his mother held his hand tightly when she took her final, weak breaths on their tattered mattress, her grip loosening when she finally passed away. He would meet her and Dad and Bucky when this was done, he was sure.

Til the end of the line.

The clouds parted before him, the white expanse of ice revealed itself before him.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that party." the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he realized what he just said.

The chuckle Tom gave was humorless, half broken and a mite hysterical. Peggy's wavering breaths were no better.

"All right," his girl managed to say, "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."

The place they danced the second time, after the awkward but exhilarating first dance at the Leaky Pot (which had ended with some of Grindelwald's goons showing up, interrupting the moment they had shared).

"You got it." Steve answered, his own voice wavering as the sheet of ice neared.

She had wanted to teach him to dance at a proper club after that, and Bucky had dragged Tom along for the same reasons (It's almost a rite of passage to teach you two shut-ins the Jitterbug, so let's get cracking!). The memory was a fond one.

"Eight o'clock on the dot." Tom added, and it sounded as if he were saying it through gritted teeth, "Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

His voice cracked a couple of times, though it was obvious that he was trying to act confident despite the circumstance. Something wet trailed from the corners of Steve's eyes, streaking down his cheeks and flying off his chin.

"We'll have the band play somethin' slow." Steve said with certainty, "I'd hate to step on your feet, Peggy."

I love you. Words unspoken, yet loud and clear.

The white sheet now covered the entirety of his vision. His heart hammered in his chest as he prepared himself for the inevitable crash.

"I'm sure you'll do fine." Peggy replied, "Just be there."

I love you too. I'll miss you.

"Maybe you could even sing for us, Tom." Steve continued, and a noise akin to a broken laugh sounded from the radio, "Something from The Wizard of Oz."

A pause.

"So be it." came the answer, though strained.

Goodbye, Brother.

"It'll be great." Steve assured, "We could slow dance to Somewhere Over the Rain-"

The nose of the Valkyrie met the ice at full force, damaging the displays as the aircraft skipped over the surface like a stone skimming over a lake. Pieces from the bottom and the back fell off (if the flying debris was anything to go by) as the sharp tip of the plane buried itself into the frozen wasteland. Ice mingled with broken glass (the window had shattered upon impact), the controls and radio quiet, dead. Slowly the great rumble of the engine turned into a quiet whine as everything shut down around him. The compass was nowhere to be found, having dropped into the crevices of the floor at some point during the jarring crash. A sigh of relief came from Captain America. The world was safe, the war over.

He'd crashed into the white, frozen ground from a great height, just like Bucky. He's sure both Tom and Bucky would have appreciated the irony (when the former got over his grief).

A noise, sharp and loud, resounded from all around him. Something had just broke, and that something was the ice sheet he had landed on. As the hard shell gave way, the Valkyrie plunged headfirst into the freezing ocean. Frigid salt water stung his skin as the waves easily penetrated the broken aircraft, and Steve knew that he could only hold his breath for so long. Deciding to make use of his strength before it was sapped from him, Captain America unbuckled himself from the pilot's seat, floating in the water as the plane further descended into the ocean's freezing depths. Even if he could leave the ship, the conditions of the water coupled with his exhaustion from the day's events would take its toll on him, and he would float away into the endless sea.

Steve sighed mentally as he looked up where the light was filtering in from the surface of the ocean. It was getting dimmer, though whether it was because he was sinking deeper or because the surface was once more freezing over (sealing him completely in this watery grave). He shivered, the cold seeping into his bones. Closing his eyes, Steve Rogers clasped his hands together in front of him.

One last prayer before the end.

Our Father in Heaven, Hallowed be Your Name.

He spoke not in mouth (for that would have killed him instantly) and not in mind (as it was getting harder to think with each passing second), but in heart, hoping that even as he sunk down into the abyss that God would hear him. However it was not a mighty voice that replied to his prayer, but many voices that echoed back at him in the depths. Familiar voices that made his heart beat faster (it was a hallucination, he knew, brought on by the lack of oxygen, but it didn't make them any less real to him).

Your Kingdom come, Your Will be done,

Always be a good man, murmurs the quiet voice of Doctor Erksine, who had given him so many words of encouragement and wisdom, holding a glass filled with Schnapps in his hand. The German scientist was probably with his family now, he was a good man. Steve hoped he would see him soon, to apologize for failing him as well, for not jumping forward in time.

On Earth as it is in Heaven.

Better get moving, bugs! Dum Dum's booming voice chimes in, and his thoughts turned toward his team, who now stood victorious over HYDRA, the enemy base overrun. Their faces, determined, joyful, somber, voices echoing through his mind like a cave. They would mourn, he was sure, but they were strong. Strong enough to fight side by side with him on the frontlines, strong enough to laugh through injury and pain. Strong enough to move on.

Give us today our daily bread,

Whatever you want, pal, Howard adds. Steve could practically see the smirk on the inventor's face, writing down notes and fiddling with his thin mustache. The glint in the man's eye as he tinkered with his inventions alongside his genius compatriots was something Steve didn't realize he would miss, and yet here he was doing that very thing.

And forgive us our Sins, as we forgive those who Sin against us.

So be it, Tom whispers as Steve remembered the wizard that had quickly turned into family. Dark hair so similar to Bucky's the two could be mistaken for brothers. The low timbre of his voice so often carrying his sharp words from thin lips to amuse and hurt. Long, boney fingers that meticulously casted spells with an equally pale and narrow wand. Tesseract blue eyes that bored into the soul as easily as bullets pierced unguarded flesh.

Lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil.

You won't be alone, Peggy proclaims, as Steve recalled every detail he could about his girl (a beautiful dame to call his own, and who would have ever thought?). Earthen hair falling down in perfect waves. Brown eyes like the richest chocolate. Smooth skin like porcelain. Lips redder than wine. The voice of an angel. An angel who saw the skinny beaten down Brooklyn kid before she ever saw the Herculean war hero. He hoped he hadn't ruined all her chances of living a happy life after this.

For the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory are all Yours

Til' the end of the line, Bucky states. Thoughts flickered to times when he was younger, shorter, sicker (which really wasn't all that long ago, really). Wiping blood from his nose from a dingy alleyway, limping alongside his taller, worried friend. Bucky, his best and oldest pal, one he couldn't save. Steve could almost hear him now, griping about how it wasn't his fault, before slinging an arm around his shoulder. Would Bucky be the first one he would meet?

Now and Forever

There was only one way to find out, he supposed, as his brain finally succumbed to the lack of oxygen. The cold had become nigh unbearable, all his strength was gone. What little energy he had left had been sapped by the very ice that froze all over him. The voices faded away as Steve's hands slid to his sides, bubbles trailing from his mouth and nose.

Amen.

Deep beneath the Atlantic Ocean, Captain America slipped into oblivion as ice froze all around him, encasing him alongside his well-used shield.

"Steve?" was the whispered question, "...Steve? Steve?"

The static felt all too deafening to him as something in his chest began to tighten. Tom's eyes were screwed shut, and yet hot, stinging liquid still managed to leak out. He did not need to open them to know that Peggy was not faring much better. Both their voices were cracking as they called his name out like a broken record, knowing full well an answer was futile. With his head bowed, Tom let out a shaky breath.

Steven Grant Rogers was dead.

The notion was almost impossible to accept. A sniffle came from beside him, and Tom squeezed her hand (which at some point during their final conversation with their costumed friend had met, needing a physical comfort for the pain that was about to hit them) as a weak notion of reassurance (of what, he wasn't quite sure). Almost immediately he was pulled into a tight hug from the SSR Agent (which he reciprocated absentmindedly, damn these muggles for making him so soft), and the two of them stayed that way for what felt like hours, mourning the loss of their Captain (her love, his brother). Hearing Bucky's death secondhand was bad enough. This was akin to the pain he felt with his Horcrux (both its creation and its reunion to the core), and bloody hell it seared. Of the three of them, Steve and Bucky were the most pure, the most wholesome. It was Tom whose soul had been blackened with past sins, so why was he (the monster) the one left standing while they had died? After all that he did to make sure he could perish alongside them?

This moment of weakness and loss, however, was interrupted by a rather frantic Jim Morita (when on Earth had he left the room? Tom wondered in the back of his mind). With the sound of thundering footsteps echoing in the radio tower becoming louder, Tom and Peggy broke apart to face the fellow Howling Commando.

"Grindelwald and his army's got the entrance blocked." the communications officer of the group stated, not remarking on the appearance of either British operative, "Looks like he's waiting for someone."

"Probably for you." replied a gruff voice.

Behind Jim came another familiar face, which was that of Alastor Moody. The blond Auror trainee had an expression on his face that Tom could only label as 'constipated' as he faced the youngest Commando.

"The war's not over yet." the wizard that was just a few years Tom's senior growled out, "The Auror Corps are at your disposal, and each of us are ready to fight with our lives under your lead."

"Us too." came the voice of Dum Dum Dugan, with the rest of the Commandos trailing behind him, "This part of the war's your specialty, kid, and none of us can go home until this bozo is dead. We've got your back, Sarge, I'm sure Cap would be proud."

A final man parted the small crowd that had formed to face Tom. Colonel Phillips seemed to eye the young wizard for a brief moment before letting out a sigh. Two hands clamped down on his shoulders as Tom's superior spoke his next words with a heavy tone.

"With Captain Rogers unable to lead the rest of the SSR into a fight that involves magic and crazy Dark Lords, it looks like that job falls to you. Under you we can officially join forces with our... magical comrades and beat this guy once and for all. But unlike the Howling Commandos, some of these guys are Lieutenants and Captains themselves and they aren't going to listen to a Sergeant that just followed Captain America, even with your magic stick. They listen to rank and leadership, one of which you have and the other..."

Another heaving sigh came out, though this one was more wry. The Colonel patted Tom on the back.

"Congratulations, Major Riddle, you just got a promotion."

With that the Colonel left, most likely to inform the rest of the SSR troops of this new development. The remaining group that consisted of Moody, his fellow Howling Commandos, and Peggy turned to Tom, all of them shocked by the Colonel's decision, which was obviously not made lightly.

"Do you think they would listen to me?" was Tom's quiet question, asking both about the Aurors and the troops that would have to face Grindelwald's army in its entirety.

"Without question." answered James Falsworth, followed by the nods of Gabe, Jim, Jacques, and Dum Dum.

"After what Colonel Phillips just did?" Peggy added, "I don't think any of them will have much of a choice if we want to win."

Moody's answer was a snort.

"None of us would be here if we weren't prepared to follow your orders," the Auror trainee grumbled with an eye roll, "If it weren't for you, the Ministry would've kept us out of this, twiddling out thumbs in the break room. All of us are ready to fight and ready to die. Are you ready, Lord Voldemort?"

Their words had caused a sudden shift to occur in the whirling storm that was Tom Riddle's mind. The indescribable pain and sadness that he felt at the loss of both Steve and Bucky, and the doubt and self loathing that had arisen because of that loss were quickly replaced by an influx of boiling anger and determination. He would not let their deaths in be vain.

Flicking his wrist, Tom felt the familiar weight of his yew wand, twirling it between his fingers before gripping it hard. A flick to his other wrist activated his shield, the object's magic humming in power and anticipation. His blue eyes flashed red (an all encompassing crimson that did not appear human in the slightest, not that he could see that) for a brief moment before fixing all of these people (family, friends) with his piercing gaze. A smile slowly spread across his face, one that lacked any warmth or mirth and instead conveyed a kind of intense mania.

"I am ready." was his answer, "Let's go kick some arse."

AN:

Oni: This is an actual Omake that I wasn't able to fit into the story, but since this chapter references it, I might as well show you. The other one is for laughs. Enjoy!

—

Omake 1:

Nighttime Musings - July 1944

The forest was quiet. Well, quiet in that there wasn't much noise that would alarm any of the men who had set up camp. Most of the group was asleep (well, not really, Gabe and Jim, who were listening with half-lidded to some German chatter on the radio), and guard duty for the night had passed to their Captain. Even so, he wasn't the only member of the group awake. Two others had decided to join him in the nighttime calm, Bucky and Tom. All three were currently marveling up at the clear sky, which revealed the billions of stars that endlessly stretched across the expanse above them.

"Look at that." Bucky murmured, his head rested upon his pack, eyes scanning the sight above him, "You'd never get a sight like this back in Brooklyn."

Steve hummed in reply, leaning his back against a tree trunk, drinking in the night as it truly was.

"With all the city lights drowning out the stars you'd never see 'em." he stated, his mind returning to the city that never slept, the constant hustle and bustle of New York, "Guess you never really know what you're missin' out on until you see it with your own eyes."

A rustle of fabric to his left, and Steve's mental map told him it was Tom wrapping his green and silver scarf around George, who was coiled in his lap. The rather small asp tended to get cold at night, despite it being summer. The young man (not yet a grown adult, even though his eyes were already shrewd and hard) hissed comfortingly at the serpent (like someone soothing a puppy or kitten and not a venomous snake) with a light smile on his face.

"What it is like?" asked the British soldier quietly, "Your home?"

Of course Tom would have derived what Steve was thinking about. Then again, it was probably pretty obvious. Before the blond haired man could give an answer, however, Bucky spoke up.

"Oh it's pretty swell." the brunette American replied, "Baseball games, hotdog stands, Coney Island... I mean it's busy, sure, but it's home, ya know? After all this is over we'll take you there and show ya! Those scores of yours can be transferred, right?"

A chuckle and a shuffling noise to Steve's left. Tom was shaking his head, and Steve glanced there to see an amused smirk on the kid's face. Thin fingers continued to stroke George, who hissed in contentment (he had picked up certain words and cues in Parseltongue just by being around the two for a prolonged amount of time, with Tom's help with translating, of course), as shifting blue eyes turned to Bucky.

"Yes, my NEWT scores are indeed viable in America." Tom replied wryly, "But with Rapaport's Law still in place there, I highly doubt any of us can get away with such obvious mingling without one or three of us dying by MACUSA's hand."

Bucky pouted slightly, making both Tom and Steve chuckle.

"You can still visit." Steve supplied, smiling, "There's no Law against that, right? And besides, you can pretend not to be a wizard at all. Wouldn't that bypass it?"

A look of contemplation fell over Tom, and Steve knew that his argument had won.

"I suppose I could." Tom answered quietly, "Though unless Howard flies me there, I'm not sure if I could get on a plane. Theoretically I could try to apply for an International Portkey on 'work related' business, and I'm sure my NEWT scores will be more than sufficient. But Portkeys are heavily regulated as it is, getting an International Portkey would be a bloody nightmare."

"Couldn't you make one yourself?" asked Bucky curiously, one seconds ahead of Steve.

"Yeah," added the Captain with a knowing grin, "Pretty sure that brain of yours could find a way to sneak past all those pesky rules."

They were gifted an amused huff and an eye roll from their efforts. Tom turned to Steve with a wry smile.

"As gifted as I may be, Steve," the teenage wizard replied, "Portkey travel has been ruled with an iron fist since the War started. Not only are Portkeys themselves heavily regulated, but the knowledge of how to make one yourself's been stashed away in fear of students joining Grindelwald fining such information or Muggles finding out our existence if used near, with, or against them, as well as keeping track of the witches and wizards under the Ministry of Magic. My... position with a few Professors was rather precarious before the Austria Incident, which means I haven't been able to cajole anyone into teaching me how nor procure a book that could explain its intricacies to me. I'm not all-knowing in the field of magic, even if I'm highly advanced for my age, and I'm starting to think that maybe some people were too afraid to teach me, considering they didn't even offer Apparition classes to my year. Besides, the lack of such knowledge was what drove me to practice Apparition, by all means more centralized to the individual, in the first place."

Silence reigned for a few moments as the two American soldiers processed the information that was given to them. It painted a grim picture of how far the Wizarding World was willing to go to hide themselves away. Steve understood the secrecy, since most of their tech was SSR knowledge only, (and the Technomancy gear was only built for the Howling Commandos alone), but to take away a safe mode of transport for civilians to leave a war zone crossed a line.

"Sounds like you're a riot at magic school." Bucky quipped, trying to subtly draw attention away from the surprisingly serious topic, "So what was Hogwarts like?"

Tom closed his eyes to gather his thoughts, his face for once betraying a wistfulness and a hint of nostalgia. Steve watched as pale fingers trailed along the fabric of the scarf, a slight longing in the usually blank blue eyes of the teen.

"You'd like Hogwarts," he sighed out, "It's a castle that sits on a cliff in the Scottish highlands, surrounded by the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest. There's no city lights and the ceiling in the Great Hall is bewitched to look like the sky Slytherin Common Room's in the Dungeons, see, and that's already below the level of the Lake. It's like living in a strange fishbowl, once you've factored in the mermaids, which are not as pretty as the fairytales have claimed and have learned how to swear quite fluently in English mind you, and the Giant Squid, who's far friendlier and playful to boot. There's actually a room on the Seventh Floor that appears to only those who need it, and contains everything you need inside. I've used it many a time to hide from some of my housemates and to work on special projects that I didn't want them knowing about."

Whilst the boy spoke, Steve noted the tinge of homesickness in his voice (whether Tom knew it or not). It was obvious that despite the lack of friends and the animosity he initially had the bear from his Housemates, Tom Riddle still considered Hogwarts his home. With the way the guy spoke about the place, Steve wouldn't be surprised if Hogwarts was as every bit as magical as it sounded. Maybe Tom and Monty could convince Dumbledore to give them a tour before they left the continent.

Bucky voiced the last sentiment out loud. It was funny, the way their minds worked so closely.

"Maybe you could get your Professor to show us before we go back to the States." his oldest friend offered, ruffling Tom's hair as he did so, "One last magical celebration before MACUSA cuts us off. Hey, do ya think we could smuggle some of that Butterbeer and Firewhiskey home?"

Tom muttered under his breath something about the misuse of alcohol, causing the duo to break out into quiet chuckles. The young wizard rolled his eyes once more, but soon joined in on the mirth.

Bucky always knew what to say when Steve felt down, and it was obvious that it now extended to Tom as well. No longer was his face blank as he smiled along with them, something that had been happening more often. It was nice to see the normally solemn and dour teen smile. A real smile, and not the one that Tom usually plastered in front of his face when trying to coax information out of strangers (oozing charm and charisma in a way that Bucky fell short of and Steve could only shake his head at).

It was kind of strange, the way Tom had gravitated towards to two friends from Brooklyn, as if subconsciously wanting a family out of it. And in a way, hadn't that happened? Howard, Peggy, and the Commandos were basically all the family the kid's had at this point, a little brother in a crazy, multinational family.

George then decided that now was the time to hiss (which sounded like a complaint, most likely for being jostled awake), and another round of quiet laughter broke out as both Steve and Bucky watched Tom placate the little snake, hissing out platitudes that Steve could catch bits and pieces of.

Even in the wilderness, fighting a war, moments like these gave Steve hope that everything would turn out alright.

—

Omake 2:

If Tom Had Learned How to Make Portkeys

"Bucky!" Steve cried as he watched his best and oldest friend fall from the train.

The wind whipped around the brunet soldier as he quickly shoved his hand into his pocket, feeling for the lighter that Tom had given his for situations like this. Once he found it, he gripped it tight and yelled out the activation word.

"Oz!"

In the blink of an eye, Bucky was no longer falling.

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a resounding splash came from something hitting the Black Lake at a high speed. Students flocked to the impact sight in shock and curiosity, only to see a lone figure break the surface of the water with the help of the Giant Squid, sputtering our water as he was carried to shore. The mystery man was unceremoniously plopped onto the Lake's edge, his eyes blocking away the water.

The gaggle of students parted, and the man looked up to see the genially smiling Transfiguration Professor.

"Well hello, Sergeant Barnes." greeted Dumbledore with a chuckle, "I see Tom has made use of the Portkey spell I taught him. Please, come inside, you must be exhausted. And, of course, welcome to Hogwarts."

Later, Bucky will ask how the Portkey knew to dump him in the Lake to break his fall. Tom would admit that Portkeys were not that smart, and only transported the user to a pre-set destination. Howard Stark had overheard the conversation and was rolling on the floor laughing as Bucky put Tom in a headlock, rubbing his fist over the cackling wizard's head.

MUCH later...

"Steve..." Tom began, his tone almost pleading, but Steve cut him off.

Begging was not something Tom Riddle ever did, and he would be damned if he was the one who made the kid start.

"This is my choice."

The reply was scathing and exasperated.

"Steve, the compass is a bloody Portkey!" Tom groaned out, "Cut the dramatics, crash the plane, then come home."

A brief pause.

"Oh, right."

"Yes." was the flat reply, "Oh right indeed."

The nose of the Valkyrie met the ice at full force, damaging the displays as the aircraft skipped over the surface like a stone skimming over a lake. Pieces from the bottom and the back fell off (if the flying debris was anything to go by) as the sharp tip of the plane buried itself into the frozen wasteland. Ice mingled with broken glass (the window had shattered upon impact), the controls and radio quiet, dead. Slowly the great rumble of the engine turned into a quiet whine as everything shut down around him. Seeing that there was no way that the ship would fly away, Steve dug into his pocket and found the silver compass that doubled as a Portkey and whispered the code word once he grabbed his trusty shield.

"Oz."

As Captain America disappeared, the ice sheet cracked and the Valkyrie sunk down into its watery grave.

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a figure dropped into the Black Lake and fished out of the water by the friendly Giant Squid. Some of the surrounding students cheered and took their winnings from the grumbling losers as the figure crawled from the edge.

"Tom, you sonova bitch!" the figure cried with no malice as Albus Dumbledore came to greet yet another one of Tom's interesting muggle friends.

AN:

Oni: That's all for now, folks! Sorry if it's a little short, hopefully the Omake make up for it a little...

Tom: Don't for get to Follow, Favourite, and Review.

Oni: And I'll see you next time, my pretties!