Steve could hardly believe his eyes; Harry had tapped a brick in the dismal little courtyard and opened an archway into a rich, colorful, fantastical street. Harry ushered them through the archway, but let them stop on the other side and take everything in. There was a soft, fond smile on Harry's face as he watched Steve and Bucky.
"We are definitely not in Kansas anymore," Bucky said, shaking his head.
Thankfully, while the street was bustling, no one paid attention to Steve and Bucky staring. After looking their fill, they still hadn't seen everything, but Steve and Bucky were ready to move on. They walked three abreast down the street, past dozens of shops advertising astonishing wares. Everything from beetle eyes and brooms to cauldrons and wands.
As they walked, Steve noticed the number of people staring. For once, it wasn't at him. They were watching Harry. Most smiled or nodded as he approached, but there were a few hidden disdainful looks and once or twice Steve caught a hint of hostility.
They had just passed the shop selling brooms when an older woman came barreling towards Harry. Steve didn't like her expression, and Harry almost flinched. That was all Steve needed to see. With a long stride, he stepped in front of Harry and blocked the woman's approach. She tried to side-step him several times, but was no match for Steve.
"Move aside, young man," the woman demanded with an imperious flap of her hand.
Steve glanced over his shoulder. Bucky had Harry's arm and was leading him away from the woman.
"Ma'am," Steve said in a firm but respectful tone. "Mr. Potter doesn't have time to talk today."
The woman tried again to move around him before giving up and glaring at Steve.
"I read what that boy said in the Prophet last week, werewolves deserving the right to work and live among decent wizards, poppycock. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind," the woman said peevishly.
Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Everyone is entitled to their opinions," he said.
The woman gave him a triumphant smile and tried to step around him again. "But they are not entitled to accost people in the street and force their opinions on them," Steve said with a frown as he blocked her again.
"Why I never," the woman gasped.
"I'm sure," Steve said with a stern stare. "That's why you think berating strangers in the street is acceptable."
She tried to stare Steve down, but she was barely five feet tall and still winded from her dash across the street. She glared in the direction Bucky and Harry had gone and huffed. With a last dirty look, she turned and stormed off.
After making sure the woman was leaving, Steve made his way to where Harry and Bucky stopped under the awning of a store selling telescopes. Harry gave him a grateful smile, and Bucky arched a brow in question as he approached.
"Something about werewolves having rights," Steve said.
Harry looked tired. "It's always something with them," he said with a sigh. He shook it off a moment later, leaving Steve to guess it must happen often.
Harry gestured to a shop two doors down. "Angelina works for Twillfett and Tattings. After the war, she convinced them to offer mundane clothes as the younger generations are fond of it," Harry said with a proud smile. "She doubled their sales inside a year, and they just offered her a partnership."
They made their way into the store, and a tall whirlwind with flying braids wrapped around Harry.
"I haven't seen you in ages, Harry," the woman said quickly. She held Harry at arm's length and looked him over before hugging him again. "You look good, except for the bruise. I have some bruise cream for that."
She finally released him and pushed him toward a comfortable sitting area arranged next to a square platform. "Sit, all of you." She gestured to Steve and Bucky. "I'll grab the bruise cream and Tilly will bring coffee. Americans like coffee, right?"
No one had a chance to answer before the woman darted behind a curtain at the back of the room. Harry had a wide smile on his face. "That was Angelina."
Steve and Bucky were still standing inside the doorway, trying to take in the human whirlwind. Harry snickered and waved them over. Harry sat at one end of a long couch and Steve took the other end. It surprised Steve when Bucky hesitantly sat down between them, eyes never leaving the curtain.
"She'll calm down in a minute," Harry said. "She's always enthusiastic, but not always so intense."
"It's Harry's fault," Angelina said as she swept back into the room, holding a small jar. A house-elf followed behind her with a tray. "He never comes around, so I have to grab him when I can." The elf put the tray on the table and disappeared.
"I saw you…" Harry frowned, trailing off.
"Three months ago," Angelina said archly as she handed Harry the jar. "At Charlie's birthday do."
Harry gave her a winsome grin, and Steve almost choked on his tongue. "I don't know how I've stayed away so long."
Harry unscrewed the top to the jar, smeared some of the cream onto his bruise, and sighed with relief.
"Prat," she muttered before turning to Steve and Bucky. "Hermione tells me you need kitting out for Scotland in the spring," Angelina said as she waved her wand and a red velvet curtain suddenly surrounded them, blocking the area off from the rest of the shop. "In case you missed it, I'm Angelina, and if one of you will hop up on the platform, we'll get started."
Bucky all but pushed Steve off the couch. As he stumbled to his feet, Steve turned and scowled at Bucky. Bucky looked entirely unrepentant as he poured himself a coffee. Harry leaned into the corner of the couch, sniggering.
Before Steve could step up on the platform, Angelina stopped him. "Given your build, I need precise measurements, so no shoes and strip to your pants, please," she said as she gestured to a small table on her right.
Steve stared in shock. Angelina arched an eyebrow and stared him down. Now, this was a lady who could intimidate in a way the woman on the street could only dream of. Reluctantly, Steve toed off his shoes. He'd thought about removing clothes around Harry, but this was not what he had in mind.
When his shirt came off, Steve was very careful not to look at Harry. He tried to step up again, but Angelina tutted at him.
"Down to the pants," she repeated.
Steve glanced down and frowned; he only had his pants on. He heard a snicker from the couch.
"Pants mean underwear on this side of the pond, Steve," Harry said helpfully.
"I didn't know that," Angelina said with a thoughtful frown.
There was nothing he could do to stop the blush spreading across his chest and face. Steve suppressed a groan and reached for the button on his jeans. Once his jeans were off, Angelina stepped aside and there was a loud, long wolf whistle from the couch.
Steve whipped around and saw Bucky with a wide grin, laughing. Harry was deliberately looking away and, if Steve could believe his eyes, there was a tinge of red on his cheeks. It was the first time Steve had seen any hint of interest from Harry.
Heartened, Steve stepped up on the platform and followed Angelina's direction as a magical measuring tape floated around him. Steve guessed the tape connected somehow to the quill writing under its own volition on the clipboard Angelina held. At least the process was quick. In under five minutes, Steve was slipping his clothes back on.
He was looking forward to Bucky's turn at being embarrassed on the platform, but Bucky still lacked a shred of modesty. He stripped down and stood on the platform in his boxer briefs, undaunted. It was Steve's first clear look at Bucky's shoulder, and the heavy scarring made him wince. Harry's face was still red, and he'd gone back to fiddling with his cuffs. It seemed a habit when he was uncomfortable.
"Do you need any special considerations for your arm?" Angelina asked. Steve was thankful she treated it so matter-of-factly.
With a half-shrug, Bucky said lowly, "I like something sleeveless under another shirt."
Angelina sent Bucky off to dress as she made a note on her clipboard. "Alright, Harry, up you go," she said briskly.
"What?" Harry's head shot up. "I have plenty of clothes," he protested. "You picked them out, remember?"
With one hand on her hip, Angelina gave him a stern look. "You've gained several much-needed pounds since the last time I got my hands on you, which was a year ago. It also looks like you've put on more muscle. That jumper is too tight across the chest."
He opened his mouth to argue, but Angelina raised an eyebrow, and Harry reluctantly stood up. He passed Bucky as the other man retook his spot on the couch. As Harry began disrobing, Steve told himself staring was not acceptable.
When Harry stepped on the platform, Steve kept his head down, but he couldn't stop watching Harry through his lashes. He was whipcord lean, all lithe muscles, with broad shoulders, and narrow hips. Beautiful, Steve's mind supplied. But the scars now on display disturbed Steve.
There was a long slash down the inside of his left forearm, a large puncture wound near the elbow on the right. Another puncture wound on the top of the right shoulder. The most distressing were a dozen long, silvery scars that crossed Harry's back, some of them wrapping around his ribs to his chest while others curled around his hip. Steve couldn't guess what had caused them.
When he glanced to the side, Steve saw Bucky frowning at the same scars. He strongly suspected Bucky knew what caused scars like that, and judging from the fury in his eyes, it was bad. He hated the thought of Harry having to go through whatever had left him with so many scars.
Angelina finished quickly and Harry dove back into his clothes, only seeming at ease once covered again. He dropped back onto the couch and busied himself with pouring coffee. Bucky adjusted his position until he had his leg pressed against Harry.
Steve wished he felt as easy with Harry to unhesitatingly offer comfort. Bucky must have seen something in Steve's expression because a moment later his other leg was nudging Steve's.
Finishing up her notes, Angelina tapped the clipboard with her wand, and then there were three clipboards heading for the couch. "I know none of you have the patience to pick out your own clothes. If you'll circle a few styles and colors, I'll gather them up and send them to Harry's tomorrow."
Harry flashed her a grin and turned to his clipboard. Bucky and Steve were staring at the quills.
"They're self-inking," Harry said under his breath. "Use them like a pen."
Relieved, Steve looked at the clipboard. There were several styles of shirts, button-ups, t-shirts with and without sleeves, and lightweight sweaters. The picture of the flannels relieved Steve. He didn't care if they were old-fashioned; they were warm and comfortable. He used the feathered end of his quill and pointed them out to Bucky. Bucky smiled and circled it with a flourish.
The pants, no trousers, he wasn't making that mistake again, were equally straightforward, jeans, cargo pants, slacks, and khakis. Even though the thought of Angelina picking out his underwear embarrassed him, Steve circled the boxer briefs, one of the greatest modern inventions in his opinion.
There was a section for shoes and boots. He hurried through the jackets and sweaters, wishing all his shopping could be this effortless. Steve preferred this method; anything was better than letting Natasha and Tony drag him through stores, only to criticize his taste.
When he finished, he stood and returned the clipboard to Angelina. Harry had already finished and was talking softly with Angelina about someone named George. A couple of moments later, Bucky joined them. Angelina looked over the papers and smiled.
"I'll put it on your tab, Harry," Angelina said, "And I expect to see you for dinner soon."
Harry grinned. "Of course, you and George should come to the house sometime, bring the kids."
"I'm going to hold you to that," she said with a smile. "Worse, I'm going to tell George. He'll never let you forget."
Angelina stole another hug from Harry before she let them leave.
"Who's George?" Steve asked.
"Ron's older brother and a former Quidditch teammate of mine. He's Angelina's husband," Harry said as they walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron.
"You spend a lot of time with other men's wives." Bucky pointed out with a grin.
Harry smiled and shook his head. "You don't know the half of it. Hannah from the pub is married to another friend of mine, Neville. And that's just the ones you've met so far."
"The boy from your flying lesson?" Steve asked, the name ringing a bell.
Harry nodded.
Bucky openly looked Harry up and down. "You queer?" Bucky asked frankly.
Steve winced.
Watching Bucky from the corner of his eyes, Harry nodded again. "Mostly," he said softly, blush staining his cheeks. "I've liked women too."
Steve almost forgot to keep moving his feet. Harry likes men, kept echoing in his head.
Bucky smiled. "Me too."
Harry relaxed and returned the smile.
"Buck?" Steve turned to him in surprise. He'd never gotten a hint of Bucky being interested in men.
Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve. "It wasn't safe then," he said with a shrug. "It seems to be now."
"For the most part," Harry said. "There are always bigots and in some countries it's still illegal, but not in western Europe or the U.S., Canada too."
Steve was still trying to process the dual revelations when Bucky turned to him with expectant eyes. He flushed; he'd never explicitly admitted his attraction to men aloud. Bucky didn't push, but he reached out, squeezed Steve's hand briefly, and gave him a soft smile.
Steve wondered if he was brave enough to say it out loud in plain terms. It was a secret he'd kept his entire life. In the beginning because, even as a teenager, Steve had recognized the danger. But now, so much of his life was public, he liked having something that was only his. After a moment Steve realized Bucky wasn't asking him to share it with the world, he was asking him to open up to friends.
With a deep, slightly shaky breath, Steve said, "I like men too, even if I've never acted on it."
He didn't dare look at the other two, afraid he'd spontaneously combust if he did. Thinking before speaking is becoming critical, Steve thought grimly. He couldn't believe he'd just admitted he was untouched.
Bucky draped his arm around Steve's shoulders and murmured softly enough only Steve heard him. "You always were a brave little shit."
From Steve's other side, Harry bumped shoulders, leaning into him for a moment. And the last of the fear left him.
They'd almost made it back to the Leaky Cauldron when Steve remembered the other thing he wanted to do today. "Is there an ATM somewhere nearby?" he asked Harry.
"I have no clue," Harry said. "I do all my banking at Gringotts, the goblin bank." He turned and pointed down the street towards a large, imposing white building standing alone.
"Hermione said they have a way to access mundane accounts," Harry said with a shrug.
"Do you think I could withdraw money?" Steve asked.
Harry shrugged again. "For a fee, the goblins will do most anything."
"Do we have time?"
Turning towards the bank, Harry said, "Clothes were the only thing scheduled, otherwise it's getting you and Bucky settled in at the house."
As they walked to the bank, Harry said, "Goblins are extremely proud, a race of warriors not allowed to fight. Don't waste their time and be respectful. I don't think either of you will have problems with that."
Harry glanced at the bank, and a wry grin crossed his face. "And if they start whingeing about dragons and destruction, don't worry, it's all aimed at me."
Bucky looked at Harry with a raised brow. "Later," Harry said, still smiling. "I don't want to remind them."
Harry led them up the steps past armored two guards, and Steve did his best not to stare. Bucky had taken one look at the goblins, shrugged, and followed Harry. They were approaching the long, wooden counter when another goblin, this one in a fitted three-piece suit, hurried over, intercepting them.
"Mr. Potter, Gringotts wasn't aware you'd be visiting today," the goblin said in a gruff voice.
"It was spur of the moment, Grinnuk," Harry said politely. "Captain Rogers would like to access his mundane account."
The goblin turned to Steve. "And does Captain Rogers have an account with Gringotts?"
Before Steve could answer, Harry cut in. "No, he doesn't. However, he is my guest." Harry's tone was oddly formal.
"A Potter guest?" The goblin asked with an emphasis on Potter.
"A Potter-Black guest," Harry said firmly.
Grinnuk gave a single sharp nod. "Follow me, Adraff should be available."
Steve looked at Harry questioningly as they followed the goblin out of the large lobby into a tunnel-like hallway.
"In the magical world, a head of house has a measure of standing. The older the house, the higher the standing," Harry said voice pitched low. "The Potters are an old family, but the Blacks are ancient."
"You said your godfather was a Black?" Steve asked.
"There's a distant connection between the families, enough to say I have Black blood. Between that and being Sirius' heir, it was enough to install me as head of the house." Harry shrugged. "There's powerful magic in blood."
"Quite right, Mr. Potter," Grinnuk said as they reached a plain door.
The plaque on the door had writing, but nothing about it was familiar. Grinnuk used his long fingernail and drew it across the plaque. The high-pitched, grating noise caused Bucky to wince.
"Come," a voice barked from the other side of the door.
Grinnuk pulled the door open and waved them inside. They walked into a spartan office, where most of the furniture was made of a white, highly polished stone. The only concession to comfort were stingy, green cushions on the two chairs before the stone desk. Clearly uncomfortable, Bucky stepped to the side and parked himself against the wall near the door.
"Adraff, I'd like to introduce you to my guests, Captain Steven Rogers and Sgt. James Barnes." Harry turned to Steve and Bucky. "This is Adraff. He very capably manages the Black and Potter accounts."
Steve and Bucky nodded to the goblin. Taller and stouter than Grinnuk, Adraff appeared older, too.
"Have a seat," Adraff said as he took his own seat.
Harry turned and looked at Bucky, who shook his head firmly. Steve and Harry took the offered seats and Harry quickly got to business. "Captain Rogers would like to access his mundane account and make a withdrawal."
Adraff looked at Steve. "There is a twelve sickle fee for access and a one percent fee on all money withdrawn," he informed him.
Steve looked at Harry, confused by the unfamiliar term. "I don't know the exchange rate at the moment," Harry said. "But most likely it's under five dollars."
Turning back to Adraff, Steve nodded and pulled his wallet from his pocket. "That's fine." He handed over the card Tony had written his account details on. "That's my account information. I hope that's all you need."
Adraff skimmed the paper and said, "It is acceptable." He turned to a stone cabinet behind him before turning back to Harry. "This equipment is delicate; I ask that you contain your magic."
"Of course," Harry said as Adraff opened the cabinet and pulled out a laptop. "But you should speak to Justin Finch-Fletchley. He's developed shielding for mundane electronics that's proven very effective, even against my magic."
Adraff stared at Harry for a moment over the opened laptop. "You give Gringotts this information freely?"
Harry shrugged. "The Ministry has been ignoring him. I don't see why the Ministry's loss can't be Gringotts' gain. And Justin is a friend."
"On behalf of Gringotts, I thank you," Adraff said with a gruff formality. "Gringotts owes you a boon."
With an almost predatory smile that made Steve hurry to cross his legs, Harry said, "If you were feeling generous, you could waive the withdrawal fee."
There was a soft snort from Bucky's direction as the goblin narrowed his eyes and watched Harry. "I would be willing to waive the fee today."
"I was thinking for as long as he's my guest," Harry countered.
With a smile that contained far more and far sharper teeth than Steve thought should be allowed, Adraff laughed gruffly. "Very well, Mr. Potter."
"Thank you," Harry said. Steve quickly echoed him.
The goblin went back to the laptop, looking at the card Steve had given him and tapping keys. "How much would you like to withdraw, Captain Rogers?" He asked.
Realizing he had no idea, Steve turned to Harry. "How much do you think the clothes for Bucky and I will be?"
"No clue," Harry said. "Angelina sends the bill to Adraff, and he pays it." He turned to Steve. "Besides, it was my treat."
Steve frowned. "Harry."
"Steve," Harry interrupted softly. "There's more gold in the Potter and Black vaults than anyone could spend in a hundred lifetimes." He turned to include Bucky. "I don't have any family I'm willing to claim, so I like to treat my friends, please let me."
Bucky crossed the room and squeezed Harry's shoulder and instead of going back to the door, he took a position on the wall next to Harry. Steve could only sigh and nod. He doubted he'd be able to deny Harry anything when he said please like that.
"I still owe you the fee for finding Bucky," Steve said stubbornly.
Harry chuckled. "I guess you didn't notice. The fee wasn't in the contract," he said. "I was only going to charge Fury because he aggravated me."
Steve hung his head, defeated. "How much do you think I should get for spending money?" he asked with a sigh.
With his lips pressed together to hide his smile, Harry shrugged and turned to Adraff.
The goblin tutted. "How long is he staying, Mr. Potter?"
"Say three months to be on the safe side," Harry said.
"Two hundred galleons would be more than sufficient," Adraff said briskly. "Would you like that in galleons or pounds?"
Steve turned to Harry again. "Half and Half," Harry recommended.
It only took Adraff a couple of minutes to finish his typing. He handed the card back to Steve and turned back to the cabinet. Adraff returned the laptop, pulled out a drawer, and quickly counted coins and notes. He presented Steve with a pouch and an envelope.
"One hundred galleons and five hundred pounds," Adraff said as he handed Steve a receipt. "Your account will reflect the withdrawal within the hour."
The goblin turned back to Harry. "Was there anything else Gringotts can do for you, Mr. Potter?"
"That was all," Harry said as he got to his feet. "Thank you, Adraff."
"In that case, good day to you." The goblin's expression turned sly. "Might I recommend exiting the front door this time, Mr. Potter? The skylights have been recently cleaned, you understand, I would hate to see the elves' labour rendered useless."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. "As I don't have a dragon today, the front door will have to suffice."
Adraff laughed heartily as he opened the door and ushered them out of the office. Bucky was nearly quivering with the need to ask, but he kept his mouth closed as Adraff escorted them back to the lobby. But as soon as they were out of the bank and down the stairs, he turned to Harry.
With a good-natured groan, Harry told the story of his escape on the back of a dragon, through the skylight of the bank's lobby as they walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron. By the time they'd reached the blank wall, Steve and Bucky were holding each other up as they laughed riotously.
"Prats," Harry muttered. "Let's get to the house before Hermione comes looking for us," he said as Steve and Bucky settled down.
"It's not another portkey, is it?" Bucky asked with a suspicious frown.
Harry wrinkled his nose. "No, I hate portkeys," he said with a shudder. "I'll apparate us there."
"Thank God," Steve said under his breath. Bucky nodded in agreement.
With a smile, Harry held out his hands. Today, there was no hesitation from Bucky. There was the increasingly familiar wash of Harry's magic and before Steve could get dizzy this time, they were on an unpaved lane facing a tall stone fence.
There was a large, elegant gate flanked by reclining stone lions guarding an empty field. The landscape was gorgeous, lush green hills surrounding them and a large body of water in the distance. But Steve definitely noticed the lack of a house.
After checking them over, Harry waved them over to the lions. "I wanted to key you into the wards," he said. "Then you can come and go at will."
With slow, obvious movements, he pulled a slim dagger from a hidden pocket. He opened a small gash on his palm and placed it on the lion's head as he closed his eyes. Steve felt Harry's magic wash over the area and then saw a flash of light. When Harry pulled back his hand, the gash had healed. Harry cleaned the blade with a gesture and turned back towards them.
Harry handed the dagger over, hilt first, to Bucky and said, "Just a drop on the lion's head."
Bucky looked the blade over carefully, even testing the balance before he shrugged and pricked his finger, daubing it on the lion's head. As soon as the blood touched the stone, Bucky gasped. With a soft smile, Harry took the dagger from Bucky, cleaned it with a wave of his hand, and handed it to Steve.
Steve repeated the process without protest, nearly dropping the dagger as a large house appeared in the distance. It wouldn't qualify as a stately home, but it was still impressive. Two stories built from bricks, with large windows. Clinging ivy covered one side of the house. The terraced gardens were simple but well maintained, and Steve noticed several outbuildings.
"Welcome to Tigh Na Awe," Harry said with a pleased smile. He pushed the gate open and nudged them into walking down the gravel path to the house.
"What does it mean?" Bucky asked.
"The original owner had a sense of humor," Harry said, shaking his head. He pointed towards the body of water that was getting closer as they approached the house. "That's Loch Awe, so the name means House of Awe."
Bucky snickered, and Steve had to smile.
