The spring air was brisk and cool, making the walk from the gate pleasant. The landscape was exceptional, and Steve was glad he'd packed a sketch pad and pencils. He wondered if there was a town nearby if he needed more supplies.

It was less than a ten-minute walk from the gate, and as they approached the door, Bucky started chuckling. "Glad we're using the front door," he said with a grin.

That was enough to get Steve chuckling again, too. They entered the house to a wide, two-story foyer. Harry was shaking his head, but smiling as he led them to a comfortable sitting room done up in earth tones. Hermione was sitting in a wing chair with her feet up on an ottoman. Steve and Bucky were still snickering; she took one look at them and turned to Harry.

"What did you do?" She asked.

Harry flopped gracelessly onto a wide couch. "Nothing, they're just prats," he said, trying to hide a smile.

"Harry," Hermione said with a smile of her own.

With a huff, Harry admitted. "We stopped by Gringotts. Adraff had to get his digs in."

"And?"

"That was it," Harry said. "When we left, I had to tell them about the dragon." Harry waved his hand towards the couch where Steve and Bucky were sitting. "You see the result." His voice sounded irked, but the smile in his eyes told the truth.

"I also mentioned Justin's shielding," Harry said.

Hermione gave him a wide smile. "Very well done, you." She adjusted her position with a small wince and a rub to her stomach.

"Kicking?" Harry asked with a raised brow.

"Every time I sit down," Hermione said with a rueful huff. "How did it go with Angelina?"

"Mortifying," Steve said, not quite under his breath.

Hermione shared an amused look with Bucky. Thankfully, neither felt a need to comment.

"Did you have to tell her I needed clothes, too?" Harry asked with a frown.

Hermione sat up and turned to Harry. "You've put on at least twenty pounds in the last year, Harry. It was past time."

There was a low, subvocal growl from Bucky, and Steve agreed with the sentiment, on Harry's slim frame, twenty pounds would make a considerable difference. He must have been nearly skeletal a year ago.

"I know," Harry said with a quiet sigh. "But the scars upset her."

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "The scars upset anyone with a shred of compassion."

Tilting his head back and staring blankly at the ceiling, Harry sighed. "George said she cried last time. Angelina never cries."

Voice still soft, but a little uneven, Hermione said, "It was the first time she'd seen them. When I first saw them, I cried until they gave me a calming draught."

Harry tilted his head towards Hermione and frowned. "I don't remember that."

"You were still unconscious," she said. "And Ron was even worse off."

"Ron cried?" Harry asked, surprised.

"No," Hermione said with a sad smile. "He stormed the Department of Mysteries with Neville to see if you'd missed anyone."

"My kinda guys," Bucky growled.

Again, Steve wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment. Truthfully, he had an urge to go there now and check. No matter how much he wanted to know, Steve would not ask Harry what caused those scars.

He did make a mental note to ask Bucky later. The look Hermione gave Bucky made Steve guess that would be a topic of conversation between the two.

His bewilderment clear, Harry stared at Bucky. After a moment, he shrugged and turned to Hermione. "Steve needs some help with thinking before he speaks," Harry said evenly.

Steve flushed red but didn't turn away, well aware he needed all the help he could get.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How bad is it? Worse than Ron?"

Harry held her eyes for a moment; Steve guessed Harry was showing her his memory. Hermione blinked quickly as she looked away from Harry.

"Right," she said, turning to Steve. "There are Occlumency exercises that will help, but there are also several non-magical practices that would be beneficial."

Hermione pulled her wand and summoned a pen and a small notebook. "I'll get you the books and we can work on it once a week or so," she said as she made a note. "That is, if you're willing?"

"Yes, please," Steve said quickly.

It wasn't only the situation with Harry. Steve worried if he'd unknowingly hurt other people as well. Frankly, he wondered how many of his issues with Tony could be attributed to neither of them thinking before speaking. He might not be able to control Tony's actions, but Steve could damn sure learn to control his own.

Bucky nudged him and gave him an approving nod.

Hermione finished up her note and turned to Bucky. "For the next few weeks, you'll meet with either Luna or myself daily," she said. "Luna will be by later today to introduce herself."

Bucky nodded his understanding.

"First, we'll help you do a rough sort of your memories. Once that's done, we can work through them." Hermione paused. "I won't sugarcoat it, it will be difficult. There will be days you feel worse instead of better. So, in between looking at the memories, we'll teach you coping techniques."

She nodded towards Harry. "Harry has installed a world-class gym. There's also an indoor pool and a vast library. Sometimes, distraction is a valid technique. It allows your subconscious to process."

Though his shoulders had hunched, Bucky was listening closely.

"And while physically you may not need more than four or five hours of sleep a night, you may well find yourself sleeping longer. Unfortunately, sleeplessness can also be an issue. There are several medications or potions that can help short term if it becomes an issue," Hermione said. "Do you have any questions right now?"

"No," Bucky said. "I'm sure I will after we get started."

"Questions are always welcome," Hermione said with a soft, sincere smile.

"Luna and I have our offices in one of the outbuildings. Most of our clients arrive by floo and Harry has warded that building to keep people from wandering," she said. "But your meetings will be wherever you're most comfortable, so poke around this evening. Harry will let you know what's available."

She swung her feet down off the ottoman and made an unsuccessful attempt to stand. Hermione glared at the chair. "It didn't seem this low when I sat down."

Harry was already on his feet before Steve or Bucky could react. He gave Hermione a hand and easily pulled her to her feet.

"I'll make sure you have a nice tall chair for tomorrow," Harry said with a grin.

"Thank you," Hermione said as she kissed his cheek. "I left a movie for the three of you tonight."

With a doubtful look, Harry asked, "It's not another one where everyone dies at the end, is it?"

"I will never ask you to watch A Perfect Storm again," Hermione said as she rolled her eyes. "You simply don't appreciate the benefits of a cathartic cry."

"And you don't appreciate the benefits of making things explode," Harry said. It had the feel of an old argument.

Bucky smiled widely. "Explosions can be fun."

"Not another one," Hermione said with a groan. She turned to Steve and gave him a disheartened look. "I suppose you like explosions as well?"

"Maybe," Steve said with a smile.

"Well, then the movie is perfect for you lot. Die Hard has several explosions." Hermione headed for the door. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

Harry walked her to the door and when he reentered the room Bucky asked, "How do you…" He frowned. "Don't you worry? I mean, she's just so…" He shook his head. "Pregnant."

"Finally," Steve said as he slapped the couch. "I thought I was the only one. It's like waiting for a bomb to go off."

Bucky nodded his agreement, but Harry gave them a stern look.

"Never say that where she can hear you," Harry said adamantly, pointing his finger at them. "If I have to sit through another three-hour, in-depth lecture on human pregnancy, including all the horrifying photos, because of you two," Harry trailed off for a moment and shuddered. "Well, let's just say I know where you'll be sleeping."

Steve felt vaguely nauseous at the thought, and Bucky's eyes had widened to an almost comical extent.

"Three hours?" Bucky asked with a shudder.

Harry nodded. "She said it was the short version."

After a moment, Harry shook himself. "Moving on, leave your bags here. Kreacher will take them up, and I'll show you the ground floor."

"Kreacher doesn't stay in London?" Steve asked, trying to hide his disappointment. The elf knew how to hold a grudge.

With a knowing grin, Harry said, "No. He pretty much goes where I do." He led them down the hall towards the back of the house.

Opening doors and pointing out rooms, Harry gave them a tour of the main rooms. The library was massive and Harry assured them there was plenty of mundane fiction, both classic and modern. There was a comfortable office they were free to use, complete with a laptop and Wi-Fi. A beautiful sunroom with great light and a panoramic view of the loch and landscape caught Steve's eye. There was a smaller, cozier sitting room Bucky seemed to take an interest in.

But the pièce de résistance was the gym and indoor pool. Steve thought world-class might have been an exaggeration, but it wasn't. It had every piece of equipment Steve could think of, and the quality was evident. The pool was regulation length with four lanes; there was even a hot tub. Steve could easily see himself spending time here. Bucky looked equally enthusiastic.

After letting them look their fill, Harry led them to the kitchen. He pointed out where the between-meal snacks would be and the beverage selections, inviting them to help themselves. The tour finished in what Harry called the family dining room. As they entered the room, food appeared on the table.

Though they hadn't been active, they all made quick work of the meal. Once they'd eaten and appreciated the meal, a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a pot of coffee took its place, as well as a fourth coffee cup.

"Luna must be here," Harry said.

A few moments later, the delicate blonde Steve had seen the first day wandered into the room. Her pale grey eyes were soft and almost distracted. The three men got to their feet, and she drifted over to Harry and kissed his cheek.

Not waiting for introductions, she turned to Bucky and held out her hand. "Hello, Bucky. I'm Luna."

Bucky gently shook her hand, looking as if he feared she'd break. "Hi," he said in an unusually soft voice.

"I'm going to help Hermione unfuck your head," she said without a trace of discomfort.

The vague flush on Bucky's face surprised Steve, he didn't know Bucky could feel embarrassment. Harry snickered quietly as he poured coffee for everyone. Luna introduced herself to Steve and took the seat next to Harry.

"Ooh, Kreacher's chocolate chip biscuits," she said happily as she took two and immediately dunked one in her coffee.

Once everyone had retaken their seats, Luna turned to Harry. "Rolf said he explored around Novi Grad a few months ago and still has detailed maps and ariel photographs. He'll be at home all day tomorrow."

"Ta," Harry said with a smile. "I'll stop by after lunch."

"What's in Novi Grad?" Steve asked.

"A lead from the thief," Harry said. "If it pans out, I'll tell you about it."

"You're leaving again?" Bucky asked with a frown.

"Not for a few days," Harry said with a reassuring smile. "And it should only be overnight."

Still frowning, Bucky nodded. Steve was curious about the attachment Bucky had developed. While he'd always been outgoing, Bucky hadn't ever had a lot of close friendships. Neither had Steve.

"Harry needs to stay busy," Luna said before she turned back to Harry. "But I'm sure you can find projects closer to home as well." She reached out and squeezed Harry's hand. "We miss you when you're off gallivanting."

Patting Luna's hand, Harry said, "If this works out as I hope, it should only be day trips for the next few months."

"I'll hold you to that, Harry Potter," Luna said with a hint of steel.

Luna released Harry's hand and turned to Bucky. "Knowing Hermione, she's already gone over everything with you. She's always been better at organization. Our differing perspectives will benefit you, though," Luna said with a dreamy smile.

"How likely are you to sleep tonight?" She asked with a gentle candidness.

Bucky ducked his head at the blunt question. "I'll be fine," he said lowly.

"I'm afraid fine is not an acceptable answer," Luna said lightly. She glanced at Harry and added, "Someone has made us wise to that trick."

The innocent expression on Harry's face was so patently false even Bucky's lips twitched.

"Most of the time, I can shut my mind off," Bucky said with obvious reluctance. "And when a nightmare wakes me up, I can usually go back to sleep after an hour or so."

"And how many times a night do the nightmares wake you up?" Luna asked, still tenaciously gentle.

Bucky shrugged. "Most nights, once or twice."

Steve was back to feeling heartsick. He hadn't realized how bad the nightmares were or how little sleep Bucky must be getting.

With a hint of a frown, Luna asked, "Does being physically exhausted make a difference?"

There was a long pause as Bucky considered. "Maybe," he said. "I think I still have them, but I don't quite remember it in the morning."

"But you can sleep through the night?"

Bucky nodded. "At least four or five hours."

"Good," Luna said with a firm nod and a smile. "I'm sure Steve and Harry will be happy to help exhaust you."

The sudden coughing fit from Harry startled everyone. Harry was bright red, choking and trying to mop up coffee from his lap. With a knowing smile, Luna flicked her wand out and the coffee disappeared.

Harry quickly controlled the coughing, muttering, "Went down the wrong pipe."

Bucky looked supremely amused and Steve felt lost.

%%%

The next several days would always number amongst the worst in Steve's life. Bucky was so miserable it felt like base cruelty to make him continue. Part of Steve wanted to whisk him away and promise everything would be alright.

Steve wasn't sleeping much better than Bucky. In the two-bedroom suite they shared, Steve could hear Bucky pacing half the night. The nights he heard muffled sobs were infinitely worse. He felt utterly helpless.

Harry shoving him in to the gym was the only thing that saved Steve from a breakdown of his own. Between working out with Harry and the books Hermione gave him, he survived the days.

They spent the evenings with a silent Bucky wedged between Steve and Harry on the couch in the media room, pretending to watch anything Harry thought might distract Bucky. Steve wasn't sure it was working, but Bucky seemed to draw some comfort from their presence.

The night Harry left to follow his lead was the worst. It was barely midnight, and Steve had listened to muffled whimpers for an hour. This can't go on, Steve decided as he gave up the pretense of sleep. He threw the covers off, crossed the sitting room, and without knocking, entered Bucky's dark bedroom.

In the moonlight, he could make out Bucky curled around a pillow in the middle of the bed. The weeping was hardly louder than had been through the walls. The thought of Bucky trying to muffle his torment brought tears to Steve's eyes.

Crawling on the bed facing Bucky, Steve had to wrestle the pillow away from the other man. When Steve tried to pull Bucky into his arms, there was a brief struggle.

"Stop, Buck," Steve said in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

Bucky froze for a long moment and Steve saw the glint of his eyes as Bucky recognized who had ahold of him. "I've got you," Steve murmured. The next time Steve pulled Bucky closer, the other man went easily.

Steve did his best to wrap himself around Bucky, holding him tight. With a heartbreaking whimper, Bucky tucked his head under Steve's chin and, though there were no more sounds, Steve's chest grew damp. There were no words he could offer; Steve could only hold him close and gently stroke his hair.

Eventually, the shudders eased; Steve didn't loosen his hold and a few minutes later he heard Bucky's breath even out into sleep, felt his body go limp. Steve still didn't let him go. He closed his eyes and vowed to hold on as long as Bucky would allow.

The next time Steve opened his eyes, the amount of sunlight flooding through the window astonished him. A glance at the clock on the bedside table showed it was nine in the morning. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd slept eight hours. Sometime during the night, they'd shifted until Steve was on his back, Bucky sprawled across his chest, head still tucked under Steve's chin and his right arm around Steve's waist.

The bedroom door opened silently and Hermione poked her head in. She gave Steve a soft smile when she saw he was awake and came fully into the room. She flicked her wand once in Bucky's direction and then again beside the bed. A comfortable chair took shape, and she sat.

"I cast a silencing charm," Hermione said. "He won't hear us. Are you comfortable talking to me here?"

Barely awake, Steve had even less control of his mouth than usual. "Of course," he said quietly, despite the charm. "I often entertain married women in my friend's bed, half-naked, with an equally half-naked man draped over me."

There was a smile on her face, but she still arched a brow.

"It's fine," Steve said with a sigh.

Hermione flicked her wand again and several pillows slipped themselves behind Steve, raising his upper body, giving him a more comfortable position to talk. Bucky frowned in his sleep and tightened his grip on Steve, but didn't wake.

"How long has he been asleep?" Hermione asked.

"Since around one this morning."

She settled back into the chair. "Bucky has given me permission to share whatever I find appropriate with you," Hermione said. "Yesterday was very difficult for him. We've finished the memories of the conditioning and training."

With a frown, she sighed. "He remembers every person they made him kill," she breathed.

Steve couldn't hold back his tears. He closed his eyes and bent his head to Bucky's. "He said his memories were spotty," Steve whispered brokenly.

"They are," Hermione said. Steve heard the tears in her voice. "He doesn't remember the details; he remembers their faces. It's what he sees in his nightmares."

There was a long silence as Steve grieved for the man in his arms. A man haunted by the nameless faces of the people he'd killed.

Softly Hermione spoke. "The first two months after we got Harry back, he couldn't sleep if he was alone. Ron and I spent every night with him, wrapped around him so closely he couldn't feel alone for a single second. The long, dark hours of the night were the hardest for him."

Steve opened his eyes and looked up at Hermione. Tears fell silently down her face as she continued. "Hold him as long as he'll let you. I promise it will help. He fears he's so tainted by what they forced him to do that no one can bear to touch him."

She got to her feet, banished the chair, and crossed to the bed. After hesitating for a moment, she stroked Bucky's hair and pressed a kiss to Steve's cheek.

"He needs a day to recover, so I'll see you both tomorrow." With a soft look, Hermione left, flicking her wand at Bucky as she did.

After Hermione left, Steve kept his silent vigil. He wondered how much of what she'd said was about Bucky and how much was about Harry. There were obvious similarities between the two, the things they'd survived. Steve didn't know if the Unspeakables sent Harry on missions, but had a horrible suspicion they had.

When Bucky shifted and stretched, Steve tightened his arms, determined not to let Bucky pull away, to put distance between them. The feel of Bucky's rough stubble rubbing against his chest startled him. Unable to resist, he stroked his knuckles against Bucky's face.

"Your first night with a man," came Bucky's gruff voice. The feel of his breath across his skin made Steve shiver. "Was it good for you?"

"Buck," Steve said in warning. "Don't be an ass."

When Bucky didn't make a move to pull away, Steve relaxed his grip.

"Just trying to stop the awkwardness," Bucky murmured.

Steve huffed. "By making it more awkward?"

Bucky hummed in agreement. "You make a decent pillow," he said with a yawn. Then, so low, Steve felt it more than heard it. "Thank you."

The day off seemed to help. They'd read in the library, Bucky joined Steve in the gym, and they took a long stroll down the banks of Loch Awe. Bucky seemed easier in himself, less broody. The hunted look Bucky had worn since they'd found him disappeared, and Steve finally felt confident Bucky would make it through this.

Harry had sent a message through Kreacher; he'd run into complications and would be a couple more days. There was nothing they could do but hope he'd stay safe.

That night at bedtime, Steve changed into sleep pants and walked into Bucky's bedroom. When he stepped inside, Bucky stared at him for a long moment.

"You better not hog the blankets," Bucky said with a tight smile.

Steve spooned up behind him and wrapped his arm around Bucky, pulling him into his chest. And he kept doing it every night thereafter. Bucky still had nightmares; he still woke up trembling. But he fell back to sleep easier, and when he couldn't, Steve held him close and whispered the old folk stories his mother had loved.

Five days after he'd left, Harry returned as they sat down for dinner. He tumbled into the chair, his hair down and as wild as Steve had ever seen. Kreacher personally delivered Harry's plate and stayed watching with worried eyes until Harry took his first bite.

When Harry slowed down his eating, Bucky raised a brow. "That bad?"

"It was a complete cock-up," Harry said before he took a deep swallow of his wine. He pushed his plate away tiredly but hung on to the wineglass. "I went looking for Grindelwald's journal and found an active Hydra base."

Both Steve and Bucky straightened up. Steve looked Harry over, checking for any hint of an injury.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. There wasn't even any real fighting. First thing I did was pump a potent sleeping potion through their climate control." He sighed and took another sip. "They had Loki's staff."

"Shit," Steve muttered. "After Shield imploded, I didn't even think about that."

With a sigh, Harry eyed the wine bottle before putting his glass back on the table. "They were experimenting with it." He glanced at Bucky before he said, "Most of their subjects died."

"Most?" Bucky asked with an intent gaze.

"There was a set of twins that 'volunteered'," Harry growled. "They survived and were, enhanced is the term the UN is using. The male has superhuman speed and the female some type of magic I've never seen."

Harry paused long enough to call Kreacher and ask for coffee.

"There was a civil war in Sokovia, and their parents died in a bombing. They spent three days trapped with their parents' dead bodies and an unexploded shell. They were only ten and spent the whole time waiting for the bomb to go off. The uncertainty left them horrifically traumatized."

Harry accepted the coffee cup from Kreacher with a smile. Kreacher watched Harry for a moment before clearing the table with a snap of his fingers, another snap and the elf popped out.

"The brand on the shell was Stark Industries."

With a muttered curse, Steve slumped in his chair.

"It's not like Stark had any say in how the government used the munitions, but the twins refuse to see that," Harry said. "They blame Tony Stark personally for their parent's death, with the Avengers guilty by association."

"That's not fair," Steve said, fully aware nothing in life was fair.

"Not in the least," Harry said as he raked a hand through his hair. "But those two are so fucked up, they make me look like the poster child for mental stability."

The comment startled a laugh out of Bucky. Steve gave Harry a warning look, but Harry simply smiled back, unrepentant.

"Where are they now?" Steve asked tiredly.

"UN holding cells," Harry said. "It took me two days to lay enough runes and wards to hold them."

"Does Fury know?"

That smug smile was back on Harry's face. "He absolutely knows. I'm surprised you didn't hear the shouting from here."

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, a grin creeping across his face as well.

"I'm not sure what he's more fussed about," Harry said gleefully. "That I destroyed the scepter, or that I copied all the data from Hydra's servers before I destroyed them. Or possibly, that I refuse to hand over the data."

Steve thought long and hard before he spoke. "Are you sure you're the person to make that decision?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe not, but someone has to. I'm not saying I'll never share parts of it." Harry frowned and took a sip of his coffee. "There is some knowledge that's too dangerous to allow its continued existence, things that can never be used for the benefit of humanity."

"Or things that can't survive people's thirst for power," Bucky said with a sad, quiet sigh.

Harry toasted Bucky with his coffee cup and a faintly bitter smile. After a long moment, Steve nodded his agreement. If Harry could survive everything that life threw at him and still have the gentle compassion he'd shown to Bucky, maybe he was the person for the job.

"The Department of Mysteries studied a wide variety of esoteric magic," Harry said as he set his coffee cup down. "Love, time, death, and they discovered some of those things had a physical representation. Each such representation has gone by countless names, and all have shaped the histories of civilizations and worlds. They're called Infinity Stones."

Harry's voice was soft and almost hesitant. "Occasionally there is a being who can wield their full power without losing either their life or their mind."

His movements slow, barely seeming to notice Steve and Bucky, Harry rolled up his sleeves. "Space, Reality, Power, Mind, Time," he gestured and the cuffs Steve had never seen him without vanished. "And Soul," Harry whispered.

Around both of Harry's wrists were intricate swirls of Celtic knots interwoven with strange symbols Steve didn't recognize. They didn't look like any tattoo Steve had ever seen; the fine, almost delicate lines were an iridescent black and seemed to ripple beneath the skin.

Bucky reached across the table and delicately ran his fingers over one of Harry's wrists. "What is it?" He asked in an achingly gentle voice. "I can feel your magic in it."

Harry gave him a wavering smile. "It's the Soul Stone," Harry said. "The Unspeakables tried to use it against me, to control me, not realizing it had already chosen me. The Stone didn't like that and made sure no one could ever take it from me."

"Never?" Steve asked with curiosity.

"I wouldn't recommend coming near my wrists with a sharp implement and hostile intent," Harry said with a brittle smile. "The last person who tried paid with their life."

And as proof of his progress with thinking before he spoke, Steve didn't ask.

"What does the Soul Stone do?" Bucky asked, still gentle, still tracing the marks.

"Your soul defines who you are, what you are," Harry said. "Magic is in the soul as well; the Stone can amplify and modify all of that in its Chosen."

Harry looked down and wouldn't meet either of their eyes.

"And it can call forth the souls of the dead and the living," Harry whispered. "The magical world calls the wielder of the Soul Stone the Master of Death."

The fact he wouldn't meet their eyes told Steve that Harry meant it literally. He suddenly understood Hermione's words better. Harry was terrified no one would accept him once they knew the truth. The fact he'd dredged up the courage to tell them anyway humbled Steve.

Given the way Bucky had wrapped his fingers around Harry's wrist, he'd come to the same conclusion. Steve reached out and gently took Harry's other wrist, the static hum of Harry's magic as strong as he'd ever felt. He gave it a soft squeeze, trying to show Harry he didn't fear him or feel differently about him.

With his fingers over the pulse point, Steve felt it as Harry's racing heartbeat slowed. Steve had a million questions, but was in no state to think about them, so he forced them aside.

After several moments, Bucky asked, "The scepter was one of the others?"

With damp eyes, Harry looked up. "The Mind Stone," he said. "Given all the damage it's done in the last few years, I didn't see any hope of it being used benevolently. And anything hidden can be found."

"The Stones have a type of sentience, and wielding one makes it easier to sense the others." Harry sighed. "The Mind Stone seemed to understand; I'm not sure I could have destroyed it if it hadn't allowed it."

Harry gently pulled his hands back, giving Steve and Bucky a grateful smile. "I also got other impressions from it," Harry said. "But I don't quite understand it yet. I'm afraid it's going to take talking to people I'm not prepared to talk to right now," he said with a frown. "Not until I've done some research."

"Did you find the journals?" Steve asked, trying to steer away from the more fraught subjects.

"No," Harry said, wrinkling his nose. "But I do have the locations of half a dozen Hydra vaults. According to the disgusting man in charge, they're full of priceless artifacts of power."

Steve frowned. "You can't search all those yourself, it could take years."

"I know. Fury with the UN, and Kingsley with the ICW are putting together proposals on that issue." Harry shrugged. "I hope they come up with some bloody brilliant ideas. I'm at a loss right now."

"We need a movie," Bucky said. "Let everything percolate; maybe we'll have better ideas tomorrow."

Harry smiled. "I could go for mindless entertainment."

"Damn right," Bucky said as he hustled them down the hall into the media room.

With blatant calculation, Bucky steered Harry into the center seat of the couch, giving him a stern look before turning to pick out a movie. It only took him a few minutes to decide and get the movie started.

"Lake Placid," Bucky said. "Luna said we should root for the crocodile."

With a laugh, Harry shook his head. "Taking Luna's advice on movies is risky."

Unconcerned, Bucky dropped onto the other end of the couch and draped his arm over the back. Twenty minutes later, Bucky was asleep, head in Harry's lap, arm stretched across Steve's thighs, legs dangling over the arm of the couch. Since Harry didn't seem to mind, he was running his fingers through Bucky's hair, Steve didn't offer to move him.

A few minutes later, Harry gestured to Bucky and Steve felt a rush of magic. "Silencing charm?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry nodded. "How's he doing? Hermione said he's had a few rough days."

"Better," Steve said. "I've been sleeping with him."

Harry's eyebrows flew up.

"Not like that," Steve said with a furious blush. "Just sleeping."

There was a hint of a wicked smile on Harry's lips, but he nodded. "It makes the nightmares easier to deal with when there's somebody there," Harry said. "I would have lost my mind, or done something foolish if it hadn't been for Ron and Hermione."

Steve didn't like to think what Harry meant by doing something foolish. Taking care not to disturb Bucky or to startle Harry, Steve draped his arm over Harry's shoulder. He didn't try to pull Harry to him or hold him in place, he simply made the offer.

When Harry tentatively settled his head on Steve's shoulder and leaned into him, Steve's throat tightened and it almost hurt to swallow. But something in his chest eased, and the sense of contentment that surged up surprised him.