Steve hit the door less than a minute behind Harry, but that had been enough time for the other man to disappear from the hallway. Thinking on his feet, Steve called for Kreacher. He wasn't sure the elf would help him, but it would be faster than checking doors.
Kreacher appeared in the hall and for once didn't give Steve a hard time. He didn't even speak, just pointed to the door across from the library. Steve reached the door in three strides. As he reached for the doorknob, he hoped Harry hadn't locked it. Thankfully, the handle twisted easily, and he pushed the door open, revealing a half-bath with Harry kneeling over a toilet, dry heaving.
Spying a stack of hand towels beside the sink, Steve wet one and wrung it out. Turning to Harry, Steve draped the damp towel around Harry's exposed neck and knelt beside him. He put his hand on Harry's back between his shoulder blades.
The feel of Harry's magic almost seething startled Steve for a moment, but he ignored it and rubbed Harry's back with a gentle touch. There was nothing else he could do at the moment. No words would stop Harry's stomach from revolting. Steve worried about what Harry had seen in Bucky's memories to cause such a severe reaction.
Slowly, the spasms eased. Steve almost jumped out of his skin when Kreacher silently appeared at his side and handed him a glass of water. Steve gave him a grateful smile. With a distressed look at Harry, Kreacher left as silently as he'd arrived. Harry sat back on his heels and Steve handed him the glass. The first sip was used to rinse his mouth and then spat into the toilet. After that, Harry sipped the water.
Steve slipped his arm around Harry's waist, cradling Harry to his side. He was surprised but gratified when Harry leaned into him after a moment of hesitation. Harry took a last sip of the water and then banished the glass with a gesture.
"They were monsters," Harry breathed. "Nothing human could have done what they did."
Steve tightened his arm around Harry. Steve had no words, nothing to help. All his strength was useless in a fight against the demons in a man's mind. All he could do was offer a safe harbor to Harry now, and Bucky when he was able to accept it. Steve wasn't sure how long they knelt before Harry began to pull away. Though he was reluctant to do so, Steve removed his arm from Harry's waist and got to his feet. He offered a still kneeling Harry a hand and when he accepted it, Steve pulled him to his feet.
Harry gave him a sad, grateful smile as he took the towel from his neck and set it aside. "I need to grab a couple of things from the library before I go back out," Harry said as he turned to the door.
"I'll wait for you," Steve said as they stepped into the hallway.
Harry ducked into the library and came out in under a minute, carrying a thick book, a lap desk, and a roll of parchment. They made their way back to the greenhouse in silence, and Steve had a moment to think. There was a backdoor into Bucky's mind; he didn't know what that meant, but he swore to find out.
Once they made it back to the others, Harry set the parchment and lap desk on his chair and flipped pages in the book until he came to a page of photographs. Moving photographs, Steve realized as Harry held the book out to Bucky.
"Have you ever seen any of these people?" He turned to Steve. "Either of you? It would have been during the war."
Hermione leaned closer. "Harry," she said with a quiver, "That's…"
"I know," Harry cut her off. "Wait a minute and I'll explain."
She sat back with a concerned frown. Steve stepped closer to Bucky and looked over the page. There were a dozen individual pictures of different men. He scanned the faces, trying to see if he could place them. Bucky was frowning at one picture, so Steve took a closer look. It was a blonde man with short hair and mismatched eyes; the face tugged at something in his memory.
After a moment, Bucky pointed to the picture of the blonde. "I think he was there when Hydra held me prisoner the first time." He frowned again. "There's something there in my memory, but I can't see it," Bucky said, frustrated.
"Don't force it," Hermione said softly.
"I know the face too," Steve said as his own memory came to the surface. "In surveillance photographs, no one ever found out who he was."
Harry took the book from an unresisting Bucky and set it aside. He moved the lap desk and parchment from the chair and sat with a heavy sigh.
"The man's name is Gellert Grindelwald," Harry said. "I caught a glimpse of him in Bucky's memories."
He pulled the desk into his lap, unrolled the parchment, and pulled a fountain pen from his pocket. "Hermione, if you tell them about Grindelwald, once I finish this, I'll tell you what I think is going on."
Hermione gave Harry a long look, but Harry didn't seem to notice as he wrote hurriedly. With a small huff, Hermione turned to Steve and Bucky.
"Gellert Grindelwald was what the wizarding world labels a Dark Lord. He was long thought to be the worst Dark Lord in modern times, until another upstaged him. Around the same time World War II was being fought, there was also a war in the Wizarding World, with Grindelwald leading the Dark," Hermione said in a brisk voice. "His goal was for wizards to rule over the non-magical populace. There were also rumors he helped the Nazis in some of their human experiments."
"The other Dark Lord, is he still around?" Steve asked, worried about what they were getting into.
"No," Hermione said shortly. "He died the second of May, two thousand and eight." She sent a sorrowful look at Harry.
Steve hesitated to ask, but Bucky had noticed her expression as well. He gestured to Harry and raised an eyebrow. Hermione pressed her lips together tightly and nodded.
Not looking up from his writing, Harry said with no inflection, "He was the monster who murdered my parents and far too many others."
"My sense of time isn't the greatest," Bucky said in a low voice. "But you had to still be a kid."
"I was seventeen," Harry said flatly as he looked up. "And I hadn't been a child for a long time by that point."
Before anyone could comment on that, Harry picked up the parchment, set aside the lap desk, and called for Kreacher. When Kreacher arrived, Harry handed him the parchment. "Do you see any loopholes in that?" Steve remembered Harry telling him how good Kreacher was at finding loopholes.
They were silent as the elf read. "No, Master has not left loopholes," he said as he handed the parchment back to Harry.
"Thank you, Kreacher."
The elf nodded and disappeared, taking the lap desk and book with him.
"Grindelwald was a Dark Lord of many talents," Harry said. "The historians say he may have been the greatest Occlumens the world has ever seen." Harry shrugged. "But what they fail to mention is a wizard that skilled in Occlumency is also bloody good at Legilimency."
"There's no evidence of that," Hermione said with a furrowed brow.
"There's no public evidence," Harry said with a gentle shake of his head. "At some point, the Unspeakables had access to his journals." Harry looked away and swallowed. "A lot of what they did to me was of his invention."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione cried as she got to her feet and sat in his lap to wrap her arms around him. Harry let her hold him for a long minute before he kissed her head.
"Go back to your chair, you," Harry said with a fragile laugh. "Your daughter is kicking me."
She looked him over with care, nodded, and bussed his cheek. Hermione made her way back to her chair. With a deep breath, she got back on track. "What does that mean in relation to Bucky?"
"Grindelwald is the one who put the backdoor in," Harry said. "I don't know why." Harry frowned. "Grindelwald had little use for non-magical people."
"Could he have magic?" Steve asked. The discovery that he had magic was still fresh in his thoughts.
They all turned to look at Bucky, who flinched a little and inched back in his chair. "Don't look at me," Bucky said defensively. "The first I knew of magic was when Green-Eyes made those bottles float."
"But you saw the tent," Harry said musingly.
Harry nibbled on his lower lip, lost in his thoughts. Steve swallowed hard and looked away. This is not an appropriate time for impure thoughts, he told himself firmly.
"I didn't see it at first," Bucky said. "Everyone avoided that section of grass and when I got closer, I felt something buzzing. When I concentrated on the buzzing, the tent appeared."
"Like static electricity?" Steve asked. Could Bucky sense magic, too?
Bucky nodded.
"Of course, it's bloody both of them," Harry muttered as he looked up at the ceiling, a frown tugging at his mouth. After a moment, his expression smoothed out, and he turned to Bucky. "There's a spell that will let us know if you have magic. It doesn't hurt. I did it on Steve yesterday."
"You have magic now?" Bucky asked Steve with a raised eyebrow.
"Shocked me too," Steve said. "Apparently, it's enough to see magical things. But Harry's right, it doesn't hurt."
Bucky shrugged. "Might as well, night can't get much stranger."
Harry waved a hand in Bucky's direction. There was the wash of Harry's magic and a moment later, Bucky's hand flew to his chest, his eyes wide.
"It's the same as Steve's," Harry said. "He has magic, but again, something's off about it."
"Alright," Hermione said with a nod. "We'll add it to the research list. At least we can theorize it explains Grindelwald's interest in Bucky. And it also explains the strength of the barriers in both Bucky and Steve."
"From what I saw, Grindelwald worried that Bucky's willfulness." Harry flashed Bucky a grin. "Might interfere with their goal. So, he encoded a set of words to trigger some type of post-hypnotic compliance."
Steve laughed. "Willfulness is putting it politely." He had hundreds of stories of Bucky's stubbornness.
"Mom always said I was hardheaded," Bucky said with a fond smile.
Hermione looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow. Harry rolled his eyes and pointed at himself. "Pot," he pointed to Hermione, "Kettle." She grinned, but didn't disagree.
After a moment, Harry got back to the point. "Grindelwald gave the words to a small, older man with glasses, so we have to assume someone else knows how to trigger it. Which means it has to come out and come out now."
"Harry," Hermione said. "Are you sure it has to be now? Maybe we should do some research first?"
Harry shook his head. "First, the only place to research it would be Grindelwald's journals and I don't know where they are, but I will find them," he said with audible determination.
Harry looked at Bucky with so much understanding Bucky had to turn away and something in Steve's chest tightened. "And with those triggers in place, Bucky will never trust his own mind."
Bucky's jaw tightened, and he lowered his head, his hair falling over his face, hiding his expression.
"You're right," Hermione said after a moment. "What's on the parchment?"
"It's a magically binding contract," Harry said, looking at Bucky. "Magic itself will make sure I keep the terms."
Slowly, Bucky raised his eyes to meet Harry's. "What are the terms?" he asked, voice neutral.
"That I will never use the knowledge on another living being, except to free someone, should I come across one. That I will remove the triggers in their entirety." Harry held Bucky's eyes without flinching. "That I will do nothing else, without your permission, while I'm in your mind. On penalty of my magic."
Harry handed the contract to Bucky, who read it quickly.
"Why?" Bucky asked, looking lost after he'd finished.
"I need you to trust me, at least in this." Harry took a deep breath. "You'll have to help me and do as I say without hesitation. I can't give you the time to develop that trust, but I can give you this."
There was nothing Steve could do besides sit and watch as Harry and Bucky talked. The thought of someone having control of Bucky's mind again horrified him. He knew Harry was right; Bucky would never trust his own mind if that trigger remained. Steve knew Bucky wanted it out too, but he wasn't sure if even that contract would be enough to overcome Bucky's mistrust.
Bucky is nothing if not resilient, Steve thought as he watched Bucky square his shoulders and, despite his doubts, say, "Alright, let's do it."
Harry pulled a slim black box from his pocket. "Wizards love their quills," Harry said as he opened the box. "Normally, I don't bother with them, but this quill is rather special."
Hermione gasped at the sight of the solid black quill.
Taking the contract back from Bucky, Harry waved his hand, and the contract floated stiffly before Harry. "Instead of ink, this quill uses the writer's blood. And there is powerful magic in blood."
Before Steve had a chance to find out why Hermione seemed so concerned, Harry had put the quill to the parchment and, with a slight wince, signed the contract. The flash was much brighter this time, and the contract didn't disappear. Harry handed the parchment back to Bucky and put the quill away.
"Since you can feel magic, you should be able to tell the intent in the magic of that contract," Harry said. "Close your eyes and concentrate on the parchment. Feel the magic in it and what it means to you."
The back of Harry's right hand was bleeding sluggishly and, with a tsk, Hermione pulled her wand and waved it at the wound. The blood disappeared, and the wound closed. With the blood gone, Steve saw white lines on the back of Harry's hand. He couldn't quite make out what it said, but it was definitely words.
Bucky closed his eyes, his brows furrowed in concentration. After a moment, he inhaled and his eyes flew open. "When you said on penalty of your magic, you meant you'd lose your magic," he said in a rough growl.
"Only if I violate the terms," Harry said with an easy shrug.
"You don't make sense," Bucky said with a huff. He rolled up the contract and set it aside. "Are we going to do this, then?"
Harry smiled. "Are you ready?"
"No," Bucky said with a tight smile.
"Do it anyway," Both Harry and Bucky said in unison.
Steve shook his head. Those two shared a strange, dark sense of humor. Bucky met Harry's eyes, and they withdrew once again into Bucky's tortured mind. Given what Harry had gone through, Steve wasn't certain that was good for Harry, but Hermione hadn't objected.
His concern must have shown. Hermione turned to him and said, "They'll be fine. Though it's not physical, this is something they can fight."
She stretched in her chair for a moment. "For Bucky, it's about taking back control, which will be a tremendous boost to his self-esteem."
"And for Harry?" Steve asked curiously.
"The Unspeakables are the witches and wizards that kidnapped Harry. They ensured he had a whole host of skills. Their end goal was to turn him into the ultimate weapon," Hermione said with disgust. "An assassin no one could stop, a spy no one saw coming. All under their control."
Hermione smiled with gentle pride. "Harry decided to use those skills to defend and protect instead. And each time he does, it's another victory over them."
Steve walked out onto the balcony and took a deep breath; the last two weeks had been draining, in a mental if not physical sense. They'd been in Wakanda for a week and a half, and if Steve thought magic was hard to wrap his mind around, the technology here had his head spinning.
Everyone was very polite, but except for Shuri and T'Challa, not particularly welcoming. It had taken Harry revealing the secret of his access to Wakanda, two secrecy oaths, and a five-page non-disclosure agreement before they could enter the country.
Steve understood their concerns. If the outside world discovered the phenomenal scientific gains the Wakandan people had achieved, the fallout could be bad. Harry had explained that both Wakanda and the ICW had a fear of discovery and were working to quietly promote themselves to organizations like the UN in hopes that if the truth came out, the fallout would be minimized.
It was that work that led King T'Chaka to agree to treat Bucky. There was something else there, though Steve couldn't figure out what. A few days into their stay, he found the answer in a conversation with T'Challa.
The Department of Mysteries had wanted access to a supply of vibranium. The metal responded to magic in unique ways. So, they kidnapped the prince from a diplomatic junket in London, planning to ransom him for vibranium.
While the Unspeakables were distracted trying to contain T'Challa, Harry used the opportunity to make his escape, taking T'Challa with him. And in the process, Harry killed six Unspeakables and incinerated the entire Department of Mysteries. Bucky had simply shrugged at the news, but Steve had a harder time. In the end, the King had granted Harry access and a limited offer of mutual assistance.
Harry barely made the introductions before they swept him away to discuss his end of the deal. It was the last time Steve had seen him. It was odd, he'd only spent three days with Harry, he shouldn't be missing him, but he was. Bucky seemed to miss him as well.
Steve leaned against the balcony rail and looked out over the lush landscape. He'd talked to Fury, who'd convinced the UN to agree to a conditional pardon for Bucky, on the understanding they would question him and verify the facts. It was a tremendous weight off both their shoulders. And the progress Bucky had made, both physically with a new prosthetic arm made from vibranium, and mentally with the Occlumency exercises Hermione taught him, was staggering.
As soon as Shuri and the doctors started examining Bucky, Hermione had given Steve a very firm talk. She warned him against comparing the Bucky he'd known with the man on the hospital bed because no one survived all Bucky had and remained unchanged. She also told him to expect mood swings, continued distrust, and long, broody silences. All Steve could do, she explained, was to be there, to offer whatever support Bucky would allow.
The hint of tears in her eyes made Steve realize she wasn't only speaking as a healer. Hermione had first-hand experience with Harry. Steve felt a kinship with the heavily pregnant woman who didn't even come to his shoulder. Hermione had stayed three days, helping Bucky shore up his Occlumency, now the backdoor had been removed and teaching both Steve and Bucky several Occlumency exercises.
Today was their last day, and Harry had left a portkey to London. They would land in an alley near a pub called the Leaky Cauldron and someone would meet them. There had been some question of who would be available, but Hermione had assured them someone would be there. Steve was waiting for Shuri to give Bucky one last check-up, ensuring the arm was functioning as expected.
A noise behind him had Steve turning in time to see Shuri hand Bucky a package and shove him out the door. She gave them a friendly smile and waved before disappearing back into her lab. Bucky frowned at the package but slipped it into his duffle and joined Steve.
"She said it was for Harry," Bucky said. "She also said portkeys are an unpleasant way to travel."
"Worse than apparition?" Steve asked, arching a brow.
Bucky shrugged. "Shuri just smiled when I asked that."
Steve sighed. "This is going to be bad, isn't it?"
"Getting soft in your old age?" Bucky asked with a grin.
Steve groaned. Even Bucky was doing the age jokes. "You're older than I am," Steve reminded him.
Bucky shot him a grin. "Yeah, but it looks better on me."
Shaking his head, Steve picked up his bag and held out the feather Harry had given him. "It should activate in a minute."
Still grinning, Bucky held the other end of the feather, and they waited. Steve began to worry he had the time wrong when something jerked him backward by the navel and the world spun around him. A few endless, dizzying seconds of whirling later, the sight of ground rushing towards him startled Steve. He tried to get his feet down, but didn't make it in time. Landing hard on his ass, Steve heard Bucky's impact, and a muttered, "Fuck."
Steve closed his eyes, hoping his head would stop spinning soon. A few moments later, someone grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
"Lean on the wall," Bucky said, voice gruff. "It makes the spinning stop faster."
"How do you know?" Steve asked testily as he leaned on the blessedly motionless bricks.
"Bounced when I landed," Bucky said. "Ended up leaning against the wall."
"That was a lot worse than apparition," Steve said moments later when he could open his eyes again.
Bucky nodded, still looking irritable. He stepped out of the alley and looked up and down the street.
"The pub is a few doors down," Bucky said. "Pubs have beer."
A beer sounded good. They double-checked their bags and headed down the street. The pub looked a little run-down on the outside, but sturdy enough. They walked through the doors to a dimly lit, shabby main room. It didn't look dirty, just shadowy and quiet.
There was a long bar taking up most of the back wall, and Steve and Bucky made their way to it. As they slid onto stools, an older gentleman, dressed more formally than Steve would have expected from a barkeeper, approached.
"Good afternoon," he said with a smile. "Can I get you, gentlemen, anything?"
"Beer," Bucky said softly.
"Two, please," Steve said as he pulled out two of the gold coins Hermione had given him.
"Of course, of course," the man said. "Any preference?"
"Whatever you'd recommend," Steve said. Who knew what kind of beer wizards had?
"I'm rather fond of Dragon's Scale myself," the man said as he reached beneath the bar.
He pulled out two deep amber bottles and with a wave of his wand; the tops popped off. The bartender took one of the gold coins and gave Steve a handful of change, some silver, some bronze. Steve slipped them into his pocket.
Steve and Bucky took the beers with quiet thanks. A little unsure, Steve sipped the beer. It wasn't bad. Underneath the hops, there was something he'd never tasted before. He noticed Bucky had waited for Steve to take the first drink.
A young blonde woman came out of a door behind the bar. "Uncle Tom, the ledgers have locked up again. We should really think about replacing them."
"Now, Hannah, there's plenty of life in those ledgers yet," the older man said as he hurried into what Steve guessed was an office.
The young woman walked over. "You must be Steve and Bucky," she said with a smile. "Harry asked me to look out for you, said to feed you up as he's running late."
"Thank you, miss," Steve said with a smile. Bucky still didn't like to talk more than he had to and especially not to strangers.
"It's Hannah," she said with a smile. "If you want to grab a booth, I'll bring you out some lunch. We have steak and kidney pie or fish and chips today."
They both ordered fish and chips and headed for one of the high-backed booths. Steve couldn't guess how long it had been since he'd eaten fish and chips. A few minutes later, Hannah swept out from the bar, holding two plates. She set them on the table with a smile.
"If you need anything, shout out," she said as she walked away.
The portions were as generous as Steve had come to expect from the wizarding world. The fish and potatoes were both golden brown, and the smell was divine. They took their time eating. Steve had no idea if Harry's running late was a few minutes or an hour, and the food was too good to hurry.
They'd just finished and were enjoying their beer when the backdoor to the pub opened and Harry breezed through. To Steve's disappointment, Harry had tucked all his hair into a bun. He was wearing another sweater, blue this time, and jeans. He saw Steve and Bucky and sent them a smile as he stopped at the bar.
"Thanks, Hannah," Harry said with a smile. "Just put it on my tab and tell Neville I said hi."
Hannah dropped the dishtowel she was holding. "You should come around some weekend and say hi yourself," she scolded with a smile.
Harry flashed her a wide grin and waved as he made his way to the booth. As Harry approached, Steve was surprised but pleased to see Bucky scooting over to make room. Harry slipped in beside Bucky.
"Hi," he said with a bright smile. "Sorry I'm late."
Bucky looked at Harry and gestured to Harry's cheek and Steve noticed a fresh bruise high on one cheekbone.
"That why you're late?" Bucky asked gruffly.
Harry winced when he poked at the bruise.
"I hadn't realized he got me," Harry muttered. "But yes. The last guy wasn't happy to be found." Harry shrugged. "But the thief and his stolen goods are in the hands of my friends."
"Plus," Harry said with a smile. "Going through his things gave me a lead on something else I'm looking for."
"You should be more careful," Bucky said softly before he turned back to his beer.
"How was your time away?" Harry asked, changing the subject.
Bucky glanced around the room, before shrugging his flannel off his shoulders, leaving him in a t-shirt, and he turned to show Harry his new arm. "They do good work," Bucky said with a soft smile. "It doesn't rub and pinch like the old one."
"I'm glad," Harry said with a cheerful smile.
Bucky slipped his shirt back on, opened his duffle, and pulled out the package. "Shuri said to give you this," he said as he handed it to Harry. "She also said if it works, she'd share the patent with you."
"Ta," Harry said as he tucked the package away in a pocket. Steve assumed, as there was no bulge, the pocket had wizard space as well.
Harry turned back to Bucky. "I've an idea of how to mimic nerves in your arm," he said. "So, she sent me a small-scale replica to test it."
Bucky stared at Harry, wide-eyed and speechless.
"Wait," Steve said. "Nerves? You think you give him a sense of touch?"
"I'm almost positive," Harry said with a smile. "Combining runes and vibranium, it should work. I just have to get the placement nailed down."
Still not able to find words, Bucky smiled and squeezed Harry's shoulder. Bucky's comfort around people he knew was improving by leaps and bounds, Steve thought.
"That's amazing," Steve said with a smile of his own. Hermione explained not even magic could regrow a limb, but giving Bucky the ability to have feeling in that arm again was the next best thing.
They sat quietly, letting that revelation sink in. Steve found his mind drifting back to his conversation with T'Challa and the questions that had lingered. Why hadn't Harry mentioned he rescued someone in his escape? And why hadn't he said anything about the deaths?
His curiosity in the lead, Steve turned to Harry. "Why didn't you mention people died in your escape?"
Harry blanched and ducked his head. The sudden swell of Harry's magic caught Steve by surprise. A moment later, Harry's head came back up, eyes ablaze.
"I'll be sure to lead with that next time, Captain Rogers," Harry said, his voice a cold, chilling contrast to his eyes. "In my escape from quasi-legal detainment, one of the Unspeakables attempting to recapture me assured me I'd never be free of them. And in my terror and panic, I completely and utterly lost control of my magic."
Steve wished more than anything he could take the question back, but he couldn't look away from Harry's eyes.
"The resulting firestorm quite literally obliterated the Department of Mysteries, along with all the Unspeakables present that day," Harry said relentlessly, voice calm and even, but icy cold. "I'm sure that story will appeal to future clients."
Harry doggedly held his eyes, not allowing Steve to look away until Bucky wrapped a gentle hand around the back of Harry's neck and tucked his head into Bucky's shoulder.
"Easy there, Green-Eyes," Bucky said softly as he held Harry close. "You got your magic all worked up."
Over the top of Harry's head, Bucky glared at him. "Christ, Steven, think before you open your mouth."
Steve dropped his head into his hands. It seemed like, around Harry, none of Steve's mental filters worked. It was the second time his normal straight-forwardness had gone from insensitive to harmful. He didn't know if Harry would forgive him this time. He desperately tried to find the words to convince Harry to give him another chance, but pretty words had never been his forte.
Keeping Harry tucked in tight, Bucky rested his head against Harry's. "Steve's mouth has always gotten him into trouble," he said, voice low. The crackling magic in the air slowly eased.
"Kept getting his ass kicked because of it. Must have taken too many blows to the head." Bucky's eyes dared Steve to argue. "Or maybe his momma dropped him on it. But he's thoughtless, not malicious."
He knew he had to speak now. "I don't have words to say how sorry I am," Steve said. "I should not have said it and you don't owe me answers."
Steve didn't even try to offer an explanation, now was not the time. He didn't want Harry to think he was making excuses.
Giving him an approving look, Bucky eased his grip on Harry. "You should see his face, Green-Eyes, he's got sheepish down pretty good."
After a moment, Harry began pulling away from Bucky. Bucky let him go but laid his arm across the top of the booth. The magic in the air was still sparking, but not nearly as much as it had been. Harry looked up and Steve fought a wince at his expression. Harry's face was impassive and, Steve felt a stab of guilt, he'd rather face Harry's anger.
No matter how much he wanted to, Steve didn't turn away. "I'm sorry," he said again, wishing he knew how to make it right.
Several moments passed, it felt more like hours before Harry looked away. "Talk to Hermione about how Occlumency can help the foot in mouth problem you have," Harry said wearily, but there was no mistaking it for a request.
"It can?" Steve asked, astounded. Bucky gave him a warning look. "Of course I will," Steve said hurriedly.
Harry huffed. "I shouldn't have lost my temper," he said. "I'm still working on that."
Bucky leaned around Harry and looked towards the bar. When Hannah noticed him, he held up three fingers. She nodded and a moment later, three more bottles of Dragon's Scale floated through the air and landed on the table. Harry waved his hand, and the tops vanished.
They sat drinking the beers for a few minutes before Bucky grinned, and Steve swallowed a groan. He knew that grin, it always meant embarrassing things for him.
"When he was sixteen," Buck said. "Steve here got in a fight with a group of punks from the next block, dragging me with him."
Harry tilted his head to look at Bucky, and Steve slumped in his seat. He couldn't believe Bucky would tell this story.
"He was getting his ass kicked pretty good, but wouldn't give up. I had two of them down when the police showed up." Bucky snickered. "Soon as I saw the cops, I stopped, but not Stevie. When one of the cops tried to pull him away, Steve turned and decked the cop."
There was a small grin on Harry's face.
"The cop was so pissed he let the rest of us go, but took Steve down to the station," Bucky said. "I had to go down and give them my last five dollars to get Steve out of there before his mom got home from work."
Bucky turned to Steve. "You still owe me five dollars."
It was soft, but Harry chuckled, and when he turned to Steve, he smiled.
With a flick of Harry's wrist, the time appeared in green smoke, hovering over the table, 1:46 P.M. "We should go," Harry said. "I told Angelina we'd be there by two."
"Who's Angelina?" Steve asked as they got to their feet, eager to put the past few minutes behind them.
"An old friend," Harry said as he led the way to the backdoor. "Hermione mentioned you both need clothes; Angelina works for one of the clothing stores on Diagon Alley."
Harry's voice was amiable and gave Steve hope the other man felt the same way.
Steve and Bucky had read about Diagon Alley in the book Harry had given him, both curious about this new world they had some small connection to.
