Steve had washed up, changed clothes, and stretched out on the decadent king-sized bed, trying to process the day. Magic was well outside his comfort zone, and that wasn't taking his visceral reaction to Harry into account. Steve knew, at some point, he'd stop being overwhelmed by the magical world.
The thing with Harry was more troubling. Before now, he'd never had a problem pushing aside distractions and focusing on the task at hand. No clue on how to control it, Steve figured for right now, awareness was his best bet. No more speaking without thinking, he told himself with a firm mental shake.
A glance at the clock on the bedside table showed he had twenty minutes till dinner. Steve was thinking about going down early and enjoying the garden when his phone vibrated in his pocket. The screen showed it was Fury calling. For once he didn't fumble, and accepted the call.
"Fury," he greeted.
"Rogers, you alone?"
"Yes," Steve said briskly.
"I want you to evaluate, Potter," Fury said. "He could be an asset."
Steve frowned. "What kind of evaluation are you looking for?"
"I've been doing some independent research. I've known Kingsley for years and he's never lied to me, as far as I can tell. But I didn't realize how close he was to Potter. His judgment may be impaired," Fury said.
"This isn't the first time Potter's stability's been questioned. There were two previous occasions," Fury added.
"I don't think I'm the person for that job," Steve said, uncomfortable with the mere thought.
"I don't want a psychological evaluation," Fury said in an impatient growl. "All I want from you is, does he know what he's doing, and do you trust him to do it."
Steve shook his head. "I don't think…"
"Look, Rogers, on paper all the Avengers should be on a shrink's couch, not in the field. Including you," Fury said bluntly. "I can live with that, it's the nature of the beast. What I need to know is if Potter can put aside his neurosis and get the job done."
Steve had been so distracted by his reaction to Harry, he'd forgotten to keep an eye on Nick Fury. His secrets have secrets, ran through his mind in Tony's voice.
"You want him as an Avenger," Steve said.
"Absolutely," Fury said emphatically. "I've seen an example of what he can do, and frankly, he's wasted as a tracker."
Steve wasn't sure what to think right now. Fury's interest in Harry was coming from left field. He'd been so wrapped up in the hunt for Bucky, he hadn't been thinking about the Avengers.
"I thought his ministry wouldn't allow that," Steve said slowly.
"Kingsley implied we might convince the ICW to over-rule them." Fury was using his 'Shut up, I'm giving a briefing,' tone. "I've been coordinating with both the ICW and the UN to reach an agreement that will keep the Avengers from being labeled vigilantes. I'm not risking that effort on what could be a loose cannon."
Somehow, Steve resisted the impulse to point out Stark was a loose cannon and sighed.
"Can I talk to Harry about this?" Steve asked. He was sick of all the secrecy.
There was silence for several moments before Fury spoke again. "Provided you find Barnes, you'll be back in the UK for several weeks after the secretive detour." Fury still sounded annoyed there was a secret he didn't know. "Can you wait till then?"
"Why then?"
"Ideally, I'd like to have more of the details nailed down before he's approached. While I might be a ruthless bastard, I don't want to get his hopes up without some assurance it'll work out," Fury said in a quiet voice.
Fury made a good point.
"I can wait till then," Steve agreed.
"And you'll give me your impressions of his abilities?" Fury pressed.
Though still not a hundred percent comfortable with the situation, Steve agreed. "Yeah." A thought crossed his mind. "Wait, all that bull about the informant; were you testing him?"
With a laugh, Fury said, "Have a good evening, Cap," and hung up the phone.
Steve stared at the phone in his hand and huffed. It was always, find one answer and gain ten new questions with Fury.
Noticing the time, Steve muttered, "Damn."
Twenty minutes had dwindled to three. He rushed to put his shoes on, ran a hand over his hair, and checked his shirt was tucked in. It was a t-shirt, but it was a long-sleeved t-shirt. Steve thought it looked alright with his jeans.
Downstairs, he headed out the rear door and stopped dead. There was a portable gazebo set up with strings of glittering lights decorating it. Steve rubbed the back of his neck; my definition of casual is very different. He wondered if he should change clothes after all. A crisp white tablecloth covered the table. There were cloth napkins, for goodness' sake.
"He always goes overboard."
Startled, Steve whirled around and all concerns about the table fled. It was clear Harry had showered recently; his hair was damp and the top half pulled back from his face. He was wearing a faded pair of jeans that hung low on his hips with a snug green lightweight sweater.
The part of Steve's mind that wasn't leering at Harry was relieved he hadn't underdressed. A glance down and he realized why he hadn't heard Harry coming. The other man was barefoot. Even his feet are attractive, Steve succeeded in keeping his moan internal.
Still oblivious to Steve's dilemma, Harry smiled. "I shudder to think what he'd do if I wanted a formal dinner."
The sentence, so at such odds with Steve's thoughts, startled him back into the present and out of his prurient imagining of Harry's shower. Apparently, part of his brain had kept up with the conversation, so Steve could smile and say, "Me too."
"Kreacher will serve when we sit down," Harry said as he walked to the table. "Do you prefer wine or beer?"
"Beer," Steve said as he sat. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about wine."
Harry grinned as he slipped into his seat. "Neither do I. I just drink whatever Kreacher puts in front of me." He shrugged. "It's always good."
Kreacher appeared beside the table holding a tray with two plates and two tall glasses of beer. With a snap of his fingers, the tray emptied and Kreacher muttered, "Savages always be wanting beer," before he disappeared again.
Steve's plate held generous servings of roasted lamb, roasted potatoes, and green beans.
"Are the portions correct?" Harry asked.
Looking over, Steve noticed Harry's portion wasn't much smaller than his own. "It's perfect," Steve said. "I was afraid I was going to have to ask for seconds and embarrass myself."
Harry laughed as he laid the napkin on his lap. "Kreacher is used to large portions. Magic burns a lot of calories. So, no need to be shy about asking for seconds."
"I had noticed," Steve said as he nodded towards Harry's plate. "You didn't do much magic today, at least not that I saw."
"I spent my morning helping a friend." Harry sipped his beer. "Luna, the blonde you saw earlier, and her husband bought a house, so I helped them lay the wards."
"Is that the type of stuff they teach at your magical school?" Steve asked.
The question sparked a conversation that lasted through dinner, covering a slew of topics of interest to them both. Ranging from Hogwarts to Brooklyn, it was one of the most effortless conversations he'd engaged in since he woke up. Harry never hesitated to explain when Steve felt lost and he didn't get annoyed at having to explain.
The plates had vanished several minutes earlier when a small silver, ethereal otter swam through the air towards the table. When the otter reached Harry, it spoke. "I'm not trekking all over this house, Harry Potter. Where are you?"
Glad the animal was distracting Harry, Steve snapped his mouth shut. This was beyond manipulating the physical world. Steve wasn't sure words could describe the feelings the animal evoked. The closest he got was a sensation like all the hugs he'd ever received condensed in an instant.
With a laugh Harry waved his hand, and there was another silver animal in the garden. This one was not small. The large ghostly silver stag sported an imposing set of antlers. The increased intensity left Steve's eyes stinging, and he needed to blink several times to maintain his composure.
Harry spoke to the stag, saying, "In the garden, you're just in time for tea and pudding."
The stag tossed his head and walked through the wall into the house as the otter faded away.
Turning his attention back to Steve, Harry smiled softly and gave Steve a few moments. "Patronuses often have that effect the first time you see them," Harry said when Steve gave him a nod. "They're the magical projection of a happy memory."
"It's also a complicated bit of magic that even adult wizards have trouble with," Hermione said as she entered the garden. "So, according to Potter's Luck, Harry mastered it at thirteen."
Harry stood and wrapped Hermione in a warm hug. "Save the bragging for my goddaughter."
Steve stood as well. He'd tried to break the habit because he'd been scolded for sexism several times, but it looked like the magical world still used old-fashioned manners.
"You won't brag about yourself, so someone has to do it," Hermione said archly. "Besides, it's good practice."
Harry shook his head as he gestured between Steve and Hermione. "Hermione, Captain Rogers. Captain Rogers, Hermione Granger."
"Ma'am," Steve said with a polite nod.
Harry waved his hand towards the table, and another chair appeared. The instant they sat down, Kreacher appeared with another tray.
"There be chamomile tea for the Missus Hermione," the elf said solicitously. The change in the elf shocked Steve. "Master should drink the tea and maybe he sleeps, but Kreacher knows he won't."
"Thank you, Kreacher," Hermione said as the elf unloaded the rest of the tray.
"There be coffee for Captain Savage," Kreacher said with a sly smile at Steve.
"Oh, dear," Hermione said as Kreacher popped out. "You did make an impression."
"It's fine," Steve said. "I'm afraid I put my foot in my mouth earlier and Kreacher took exception."
"Kreacher wouldn't care if you insulted him." Hermione narrowed her eyes at Steve. "What did you say to Harry?"
Harry reached out and placed his hand over Hermione's. "It was nothing, Hermione, don't fuss."
Though he appreciated Harry trying to smooth things over, Steve owned up to his mistakes. "I overheard part of your conversation and asked if Harry was unstable."
"Brave and tactless, Gryffindor to the core," Hermione said with a sigh. "I owe George five galleons."
Harry chuckled. "You should know better than to bet against George by now."
He was sure all the words were English, but he still didn't understand. "Gryffindor? Galleons?" Steve asked cautiously.
Hermione turned to him. "Wizard-kind uses a gold standard, coin-based monetary system; a galleon is the largest denomination. Though exchange rates vary, it averages five pounds or seven dollars."
She poured herself a cup of tea, and Harry passed over the sugar. "Hogwarts operates on a house system where the students are sorted into dorms according to broad personality types."
Harry poured two cups of coffee and passed one to Steve.
"Gryffindor houses the brave of heart. Unfortunately, that trait often coincides with tactlessness," she said with a sniff.
With a broad smile, Harry said, "Both Hermione and I were Gryffindors." He scooped up one of the individual tarts and a fork. "So not only can we be tactless ourselves, but we're also inured to it."
Steve couldn't help but smile back. "I appreciate you not getting irritated at constantly having to explain things to me."
"We're inured to that too," Hermione said as she eyed the tarts.
"Neither Harry nor I grew up in the magical world, so we're forever having to explain mundane things like the tube or electricity." She finally reached for a tart. "I'm going to be big as a whale before this child gets here."
Harry smiled at her around his mouthful of tart. They did look good; Steve broke down and took one. They spent the next several minutes enjoying dessert.
When Steve finished the gooey tart, Harry pulled another fountain pen from his pocket. "Ready for your passkey?"
Steve nodded. "What do you need me to do?"
"On a pulse point is best, so just roll up a sleeve," Harry said as moved his chair closer to Steve.
With a deep, steadying breath, Steve pulled up his left sleeve to the elbow and held out his hand. Harry took his hand, holding his palm, and tilting until his wrist was in the right position. A shiver went down Steve's spine as Harry's thumb brushed his palm. Harry pulled the cap off the pen and leaned closer. Steve felt the nib of the pen meet his skin as Harry began to draw.
Harry talked as he drew, his breath warm on Steve's arm. "It's a basic runic sequence. Fehu for security, Perthro for secrets, and Algiz for defense."
Steve's breath caught in his throat.
"In essence, it says 'keep my secrets safe.'" Harry was retracing the figures he'd drawn on Steve's wrist.
The skin prickling sensation of someone watching him was a sharp, sudden shock. Steve jerked his head around, taking great care not to dislodge his hand from Harry's, to find Hermione watching him with a cool, knowing expression.
"I see you got the white ink to work," Hermione said.
Steve had been so busy watching Harry he hadn't noticed the color of the ink.
"It just needed a pinch more mother-of-pearl to stabilize it," Harry said.
Steve had to close his eyes for a moment as heat began traveling up his arm from his wrist. The feeling wasn't erotic, but it was, without a doubt, sensual. When Harry blew on his wrist to dry the ink, it was all Steve could do not to moan.
He opened his eyes to find Hermione still watching him. Her poker face was as good as Natasha's, Steve couldn't guess what she was thinking. Harry's grip changing distracted Steve as Harry rubbed his thumb over the figures on Steve's wrist. The static electricity felt even stronger this time. It wasn't painful, but a soft buzz under his skin.
"That should do it," Harry said as he released Steve's wrist. He looked up and flashed Steve a smile. "That will key you into the wards I set."
He had to duck his head. Not even Harry would be oblivious to the yearning Steve felt right now.
"How long will the buzzing last?" Steve asked, unable to hide the roughness of his voice. He admired the neatly drawn, slightly iridescent figures on his wrist. They were almost invisible against his skin.
"Buzzing?" Harry and Hermione asked at the same time.
He didn't look up but said, "Yes, it feels like the marks are buzzing under my skin."
"You can feel it?" Harry asked in a faint voice.
The fragility in Harry's voice brought Steve's head up.
"What are you thinking, Harry?" Hermione asked briskly.
Harry turned to her and asked in a soft voice, "Could he be feeling my magic?"
Sitting back in her chair, Hermione looked off into the distance. "I suppose, given that you imbued the runes on his skin, it might have been enough to make the sensation tangible."
Steve noticed while Hermione looked curious and contemplative, Harry just looked worried. He didn't know if it would make things better or worse, but Steve said, "I've felt what I thought of as static every time you did magic today."
Hermione turned and gave him an inquisitive look. "Have you really?"
Steve nodded.
She turned back to Harry. "So, is it your magic or all magic he can sense? And if it is just yours, is it due to your power levels?"
"He's only seen me summoning, setting up the tent, and shielding. I don't know what electronics he has, so I was careful to moderate my power," Harry said, with a frown creasing his brow.
"Well, there's one way to find out," Hermione said with a keen smile. She turned to Steve. "Would you allow me to blindfold you?"
Steve started. "Ma'am?" The look in her eyes reminded Steve of the scientists with Project Rebirth.
"For an experiment," she said enthusiastically. "We'll blindfold you, then Harry and I will take turns casting and you let us know when you feel something."
"Hermione, he's not a project," Harry said in a warning growl.
"It will only take a few minutes to test my theory," Hermione said with breathless excitement. "It's ever so interesting."
"I don't believe it, Hermione. I never thought I'd see the day you'd advocate human experimentation," Harry said brokenly.
Hermione's head jerked up, and she looked at Harry with growing concern.
Steve had the feeling two different conversations were going on and he only understood one of them. But he was curious. Was it magic or Harry's magic? Steve wasn't sure which answer he preferred.
"I'll do it," he said abruptly.
Harry turned to him; expression fierce. "You don't have to. You are not an experiment," he growled.
Steve blushed and proactively crossed his legs as a wave of heat washed over him. Passion, on Harry, was stunning.
"Harry," Hermione said in an impassive tone. "There is a difference between an experiment he participates in and an experiment done on him. Are you being protective or reactive?"
With a muttered curse, Harry stood up from the table and stalked back into the house, slamming the door behind him. It was the first hint of a temper Steve had seen from him.
"That was my fault," Hermione said with a sad, quiet sigh, drawing Steve's attention from the closed door.
"I let my curiosity have free rein and forgot that even the thought of experimenting on people still, understandably, upsets him," and almost under her breath added, "As I know full and well."
With a nod, Steve said, "I can see how it would."
"Don't worry about it," Hermione said. "He'll be back in a few minutes. His temper is hot but short-lived."
Hermione rubbed a hand over her rounded stomach, and it seemed to soothe her. After a minute, she turned back to Steve and gave him a contemplative look.
"I've known Harry since we were eleven, been his friend nearly all that time," she said. "And I've noticed he makes most of his friends two ways. It's either an instant, almost instinctive bond or one forged through shared death-defying adventures."
He frowned; how many death-defying adventures had Harry gone through.
"Which were you?" Steve asked with a brow raised in curiosity.
She smiled fondly. "Harry helped save me from a twelve-foot mountain troll in our first year."
"Trolls are real?" Steve asked, aghast.
Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. "As are dragons, phoenixes, unicorns, and a dozen other 'mythical animals'."
Steve fell back in his chair. "This has been the most surreal day in my life," he muttered. "Including the aliens."
"If you hang around Harry, you'll have more," Hermione said with a pointed look. "Which brings me back to my point. Harry seems to have decided you're his friend. I think, right now, friends is how it should remain, don't you?"
He ducked his head. Now, this was a shovel talk. "I'm trying," Steve said. "I've never been…" He struggled for words. "Overwhelmed like this before." It wasn't perfect, but he hoped it got his point across.
With a frown, Hermione asked, "You're drawn to him?"
"That's an accurate description," Steve said tiredly. "Does that mean something to you?"
Hermione closed her eyes. "Maybe." She seemed lost in thought.
Hermione was easy to talk to, but it was still a mortifying conversation, and it skirted close to the subject of Steve's preferences, preferences he had no intention of talking about.
"Damn," Hermione muttered. "There's something I read, but I can't put my finger on it." She huffed. "Pregnancy is rotting my brain."
Hermione turned to Steve. "It'll come to me and we'll be seeing each other again as soon as Harry finds Sgt. Barnes."
"If Bucky can be found," Steve said with a worried frown.
Her lips twitched. "If Harry said he can do it, he will, no matter what. He's the most driven person I've ever met."
Steve raised an eyebrow. "He seems pretty easy-going to me."
"He is, but don't let that fool you. Harry's also stubborn, relentless, and determined," Hermione said with a grin.
Before Steve could respond, Kreacher appeared and switched out the pots of coffee and tea.
"Master Harry says he be out in a minute." He looked up at Hermione. "Did the savage Captain ask rude, nosey questions again?"
"No, Kreacher," she said with a gentle smile. "I accidentally reminded him of something upsetting."
Kreacher gave her arm an awkward pat and then disappeared with the used tableware.
"When he comes back, don't try to excuse or explain away his temper. That kind of attention makes Harry uncomfortable," Hermione said quickly and quietly. "When he apologizes, accept it and move on."
Steve nodded, appreciative of the advice.
Then she smiled, but it wasn't a cheerful expression. "If you make me regret telling you this next bit, I'll skin you alive slowly and submerge you in saltwater. Then I'll heal you and do it again."
It was not an idle threat. He winced. "Yes, Ma'am," Steve said crisply as he wondered about the damage an angry, pregnant witch could inflict. Her threat might actually be possible.
She might not be his commanding officer, but she was unquestionably commanding. Steve also decided that, for the good of humankind, Hermione Granger could never meet Natasha Romanoff.
"So long as we're clear," she said sharply.
Her expression softened. "Harry isn't capable of betrayal, and he'll keep a friend's secret until the end of time. The Department of Mysteries is still a sensitive subject," Hermione said with a grimace.
"But otherwise, he doesn't mind questions about his past, provided you limit your emotional response. Treat the answers as casually as he does and you'll be fine," she said helpfully.
The door opening from the house cut off Hermione's advice. She gave him a last warning look and turned to watch Harry walk across the garden.
Harry had undone his hair, and it streamed around his face. He looked calmer as he came up behind Hermione.
"You're a saint," Harry murmured as he kissed the top of Hermione's head and wrapped his arms around her. "And I don't deserve you."
"Well, I don't deserve you either," Hermione said with a fond smile as she squeezed his arms. "I guess we'll have to keep trying until we do deserve each other."
With one last squeeze, Harry retook his seat. "I think maybe I'm ready to read that book on Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy now."
Hermione nodded. "I'll send it with Kreacher as soon as I get home."
Harry turned to Steve and gave him a wry smile. "Sorry you saw that; knee-jerk reactions are a bad habit of mine."
Steve smiled back. "As one hot-head to another, don't sweat it."
"If you still want to test that theory, I'm ready," Harry said, voice again calm and even.
"I am curious," Steve said as Hermione nodded.
Hermione pulled her wand from the sleeve of her top and tapped the table. A solid black strip of fabric appeared, and she handed it to Steve. "It's less disorienting if you put it on yourself."
Nervous despite his curiosity, Steve picked up the blindfold and tied it around his eyes. "Ready," he said.
"When you feel the static raise your hand," Hermione said briskly. "We won't be aiming any of the magic at you."
Both Harry and Hermione were silent except for their breathing. After a couple of moments, he felt the static again and raised his hand. It was different, softer somehow. Another heartbeat later and he felt what he knew on an instinctive level was Harry's magic, the static much stronger this time. He raised his hand again.
"Well, he can sense both of us," Hermione said contemplatively. "Is there a difference between the sensations?"
Steve pulled the blindfold off. "The second time I felt it was stronger," he said. He deliberately didn't add the part about knowing Harry's magic.
"I wonder," Hermione said. "Do you think he might have some magic of his own?"
"Wouldn't I know that?" Steve asked.
"There's growing evidence that a segment of the population has magic, but it's dormant for the lack of a better term," Harry said with a pensive expression.
Hermione perked up and turned to Harry. "Do you remember when I was reading the Black Grimoire?"
"You mean, do I remember when it tried to eat you?" Harry asked acerbically. Somehow, carnivorous books didn't faze Steve.
With a roll of her eyes, Hermione plowed ahead. "One entry was a spell to test humans for magic."
"Of course, the Blacks had a bloody spell for that," Harry muttered.
He closed his eyes and held out his hand. A moment later, a large, black leather-bound book appeared in his hand with a soft pop. Harry opened his eyes and smiled as he passed the book to Hermione.
"Honestly, Harry," Hermione snapped. "Remote apparition of an inanimate object isn't possible." She snatched the book out of his hand.
A smug smile tugged at the corner of Harry's lips and Steve thought it might be his new favorite, edging out Harry's pout.
"Obviously it is," Harry said with a self-satisfied tone.
"Harry," Hermione growled.
"My contract last week got canceled. The Fawcett heir came crawling home the day after his father cut off his trust fund," Harry said with a contemptuous twist of his lips. "I was bored. It doesn't need much magic, but you have to have a very clear picture in mind."
"Cheeky," Hermione said with a reluctant smile. "You'll teach me?"
"When I get back," Harry said.
Hermione paged through the book, stopping on a page less than halfway in, and pushed the book over to Harry.
"Why me?" Harry asked as he tried to push the book back to her. "This is your theory."
"Because I don't want to sit here for the next hour learning the spell when you can do it in five minutes," Hermione said bluntly.
Harry accepted the book with obvious reluctance. "Shrew," he muttered with no heat.
He missed Hermione's smug smile as he began reading. After a couple of minutes of silence, Harry closed the book, leaned back in his chair, and shut his eyes.
"Harry," Hermione said just under conversational volume. "Have you messed with the grimoire since I looked at it?"
Eyes still closed, Harry's brow creased, but he answered absently. "No."
Steve sipped his coffee and watched, wondering what Hermione was up to.
"That was nearly two months ago. Do you think your memory has become eidetic?" She asked, her tone still soft and casual.
Harry groaned, rolled his head towards Hermione, and opened his eyes. "Probably, or at least bloody close," he said with a wistful sigh. "It's been a year; I had hoped to be done with new talents."
"I know," Hermione said. "Go back to your practice, it'll be alright."
Harry closed his eyes again. Since it seemed talking softly wouldn't disturb Harry, Steve asked Hermione, "Eidetic?"
"They used to call it photographic memory. Perfect or near-perfect recall," she said.
Steve nodded. "Bucky had something like that, even before the serum."
"Did he really?" Hermione said keenly. "That could be helpful." She caught Steve's questioning look. "I'll explain later."
"Got it," Harry said as he straightened up. He looked at Steve. "Besides my magic, the only thing you should notice is a tugging sensation, and that's only if you have magic to tug on."
"Alright," Steve said. "Whenever you're ready."
Harry held out a hand and Steve felt Harry's magic wash over him. A split second later, he felt unbalanced as something in his chest jolted.
"He's got magic," Harry said with a frown. "But there's something odd about it."
"Odd how?" Hermione asked as Steve felt Harry's magic leave him.
A part of his mind kept track of the conversation, but most of it was trying to reconcile this previously unknown aspect of himself. That Steve Rogers, from Brooklyn, had magic.
"I'm not sure," Harry said with a frown. "I don't think he has enough magic for active use, but I doubt mundane repelling wards would affect him."
"Well," Hermione said bracingly. "We'll have to research it."
Harry's lips twitched. "Of course we will."
"I don't know what I can do to help," Steve said as he tried to gather his thoughts. "But I'd like to know more."
"A strong back is always helpful when Hermione researches," Harry said with a laugh. "Hauling books for her can wear a guy out."
"That's enough out of you," Hermione said primly, but her eyes were smiling. "We should get down to business. Did you explain anything beyond tracking Sgt. Barnes?"
"Not really," Harry said. "Just the bit about the first approach. I figured you'd make a better job of it."
"Boys," she muttered as she turned to Steve. "Both the magical and mundane world have treatments for mental health, but no one had tried to combine them."
"It seemed an obvious solution, so along with a friend of ours, Luna, I passed a Mastery for Mind-Healing in the magical world and a doctorate in Psychology in the mundane world," Hermione said, a hint of pride in her tone.
That explained why she was easy to talk to. Steve didn't know what a mastery entailed, but getting a doctorate at her age was seriously impressive.
"Because of me," Harry said with a bitter smile. "While they might not have known the specifics of what was happening…," Harry trailed off.
"It wasn't hard to guess why they wanted him or the consequences," Hermione said. She squeezed his hand. "Never once have Luna or I regretted that choice, Harry."
She sat back. "Now, hush you, I'm explaining things to Captain Rogers."
It was clear to Steve theirs was a deep and abiding friendship. He sat quietly and waited for Hermione to continue.
"Using techniques from both worlds has proven extraordinarily successful. The most dramatic difference is the speed of progress," Hermione said with an enthusiastic bounce. "In large part due to the magical disciplines of Occlumency and Legilimency."
"Occlumency is the practice of defending your mind, and to build the strongest defenses, you need to understand it," she said. "And the key to understanding your mind is organizing your memories."
Steve nodded. He followed so far, could see how it would be helpful.
"And being the converse of Occlumency, Legilimency is entering another person's mind," Hermione said.
Steve frowned at that. His comfort didn't extend to what sounded like mind-reading.
Harry noticed his discomfort and gave him a reassuring smile before he said, "Legilimency is a challenging spell to master, and it's tightly regulated now. You're not likely to stumble on one."
"Heavens, no," Hermione said. "And I promise there will be magically enforced oaths to ensure Sgt. Barnes' consent and privacy. Our purpose is to be with him as he sorts his memories. To keep him from losing himself in the memory."
Some of the tension eased. It didn't seem common, and both Harry and Hermione seemed sincere. Steve didn't think someone looking to use such skills for nefarious purposes would be so up front about it. Harry had gone out of his way to ensure Steve was fully informed. It made for a nice difference from Shield.
"If you're willing, Harry can give you a demonstration," Hermione said. "I'd do it myself, but I can't pull you into my mind and Harry can."
Harry looked at him candidly. "But only if you're willing, and I promise not to go poking about."
Steve knew this was a spectacularly bad idea, but he couldn't pass on the chance to see Harry's mind. "Alright," he said, still a little leery. "What do I do?"
With a soft smile, Harry said, "All you need to do is look into my eyes."
It was the easiest order Steve ever followed. He felt the hint of Harry's magic before there was a foreign presence in his head. Adrenaline flooded his system, but Steve had no idea how to combat this.
Easy Steve, resonated in his mind and he calmed as he recognized Harry. This is far as I'll go. I'm going to back out now. I need to talk to Hermione, then I'll show you my mind. And suddenly Steve was alone again.
"He has Occlumency barriers," Harry said, startling Steve. Somehow, he sounded less like Harry when they were outside Steve's mind.
"Really?" Hermione looked at Steve with that scientist's eye again. "Instinctive, do you think?"
Harry shrugged. "Most likely."
He turned to Steve. "The barriers keep people out of your mind. A strong enough attack can break them, but yours are better than average."
It surprised Steve how relieved he felt, knowing he wasn't helpless against that type of attack. They gave him a couple of minutes to come to grips with the new awareness of himself.
When Steve looked up, Harry asked, "Ready for a trip to my mind?"
Still eager for a glimpse at Harry's mind, Steve nodded.
"Same as last time," Harry said.
Steve looked into Harry's magnificent eyes and felt when Harry entered his mind again. Just reach out, came Harry's mental voice. He had no idea how he would do it, but he had to reach out and, with that thought, Steve was pulled away.
He was still aware of his body, still in control of his mind. His mind was simply not in his body. It was the strangest sensation; he could sense Harry all around him. Steve felt a tugging sensation and turned his attention towards it.
Let me show you a memory, Harry said. And Steve found himself standing outside a stunning castle. A tiny Harry with round glasses stood beside a broom. My first flying lesson.
Steve watched as an eagle-eyed woman instructed the group of children on how to call and mount their brooms. Watched as one poor boy, Neville, was tossed through the air, ultimately falling and breaking his wrist. Steve saw the arrogant blonde, Malfoy, crow and preen before his peers, saw a determined Harry standing up to him. He couldn't help but cheer along with the children when Harry caught the small clear ball after a death-defying dive.
As the memory Harry held up the ball with an enormous smile, Steve was gently guided out until he was alone in his mind again.
"What did you show him?" Hermione asked as Steve regained his equilibrium.
Steve heard the smile in Harry's voice. "First flying lesson."
He wasn't quite ready to talk about the experience, but he could see how it would be useful. Steve looked at the other two.
When Harry noticed him, he asked, "Back with us?"
"Mostly," Steve said with a wry grin. "I'm at a loss for words."
"Not sure the words exist to describe it," Harry said with a soft smile.
With a smile for both of them, Hermione got them back on track. "If Sgt. Barnes has an eidetic memory, it's likely his memories are intact. They might be buried, but they're there and won't have to be pieced together."
"I hope so," Steve said.
"When we find him and if he'll let me, I can temporarily lock away the memories from his time with Hydra," Harry said.
"That should allow the older memories to surface and as more surface, the more himself he'll be. When he's confident enough in himself, we can work through the troublesome memories," Hermione said.
Steve frowned. "Wouldn't it be better to keep those memories locked away?"
"You can't protect a mind from itself for long," Hermione said with gentle patience. "Eventually, they'll come to light. It's better they do so where someone can help him."
"Shacklebolt mentioned when non-magical people witness magic, their memories are removed. Could you do that?" Steve asked. He didn't want Bucky to relieve those years.
Hermione shook her head. "Missing a single memory doesn't affect a person long term. But removing everything that has happened in the last several decades, the holes that would leave would drive him mad," she said. "I'm sorry, magic is incredibly helpful, but it can't solve everything."
Shaking himself, Steve turned to Harry and Hermione. "Don't be sorry. Last week I didn't have the faintest clue on how to find Bucky and less on how to help him. And now you've given me hope for both."
