CHAPTER SIX
Summary: When Hermione sees him for the first time, she can't help but think he looks familiar. When she sees him the second time, she can't help but notice there is something decidedly strange about him. And when she sees him for the third time, she can't help but insert herself into his life. No matter how dull or dangerous that may prove to be.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and Marvel. I am not making a profit from writing and posting this fanfic. And as usual, I have taken some liberties regarding changes made to canon, plot points, the timeline etc.
Page count: 15
After a pause of silence and him watching her, he said, "I don't deserve it." He shook his head, and seeming to realise that he still had his hand curled around her wrist, he released his hold, leaning further away from her.
"You're not a monster," she promised. "You're a victim. Who understands you better than I? We have different backgrounds and experiences, but I understand you. Every thought, feeling, habit... I can help you and you are worthy of it. From what I've gathered, you were a good man before you were forced into a terrible and inconceivable situation. Anything that happened afterwards was not your fault or doing, and the moment you had the opportunity, you walked away. You don't want to be bad, and you're not."
"I can never make up for what I've done."
"No, most likely not," she agreed, knowing it was best that she be honest with him. "But you can at least try, and that is better than nothing. It's been nearly twenty years since the Wizarding War, and I'm still trying to make up for the things I did."
"You didn't have a choice."
"That's where you're wrong," she countered. "Every choice I made, I did so willingly. Every life I took, decision I made and crime I committed, I did that knowing exactly what I was doing. Your free will was taken from you. But you've got it back, right? So why not use your freedom to try and make amends; if you don't, you'll never find peace. And you deserve that, Bucky. I promise you do."
He lifted his gaze, his eyes locking with hers, searching her expression closely.
"Have you found peace?"
She smiled sadly. "Not entirely," she admitted. "I don't think that's possible for people like us, but we can try and I've yet to give up. I have good days and bad days, and the good outweighs the bad."
"I'll never have a normal life."
"Yeah, I know, I mean, don't forget who you're talking to. I'm a magical ex-child solider who has to hide her abilities in order to prevent another possible war, but I do have a life, and you can have that, too."
"There's people looking for me and they'll never stop. Not until they control me or they kill me."
"Ah, but I can help you with that," she smiled, deliberately darting her gaze about the room until he consciously mimicked her actions, Hermione pointing out the house they were currently sitting in. The magical house. "Only those that I give the password to can see the building and only those that I allow can bypass the security wards. It's not visible to anyone, even planes or helicopters that may pass overhead," she explained, seeing his slow blink of surprise. She smiled sheepishly. "The building is also untraceable. Technically, it doesn't exist. All tracking measures are useless, magical and muggle. So when I say you are safe here, I mean it. No one will ever find you whilst you are in this building and I'm opening up my home to you. You can stay here for as long as you wish. Safely, securely and without fear."
"Why?" His forehead creased.
She shrugged her shoulders in response. "I could do with the company; it gets lonely being in this big house all by myself and now you know my secret, so I don't have to hide myself from you. And, you and I, we're kindred spirits. I understand you better than you realise. And if you allow me to, I can help you."
"Help me how?" He questioned, seeking further information rather than just declining her offer as he had previously.
"You say your memories have returned, yes?"
"Yes."
"All of them?"
"I think so," he nodded hesitantly. "I can't be certain."
"Well, you've faced a lot of trauma and I know the effects that can have on the human psyche, I've witnessed it, I've felt it. And as a child soldier, if I can get through it still in one piece then I'll be damned if I don't get you through it, too. Given what you've faced with the memory wiping, brainwashing, constant reprogramming and repeated freezing and unfreezing, I don't particularly want to go digging around inside your head. I can't imagine you wanting to give your permission and I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Digging around inside my head?" He echoed.
"Yes, some magical folk are capable of casting Legilimency, the art of slipping into another's mind to read their thoughts, look at their memories and feel their emotions. On the flipside, some are capable of performing Occlumency, the art of producing a series of mental barriers and blockades to prevent Legilimency, but it also helps with decompartmentalisation and shutting down one's own ability to feel emotions when in a difficult situation."
"And you can read people's minds?"
"I can do both," she nodded. "But to be honest, it's been a while since my services have been required. And I never read another's mind without their expressed permission. I value privacy and it would be immoral of me to invade someone else's without their consent or knowledge."
"Does it hurt?"
"No. It only causes discomfort and pain should the person I am performing it on try to block my attempts or push me from their mind, and only those with some training within Occlumency are capable of doing so."
"Would I know you were doing it?"
"No, at least, I've never had a patient report any feeling or knowledge of my presence in their mind."
"How does it work?"
"We remain in eye contact, I mutter the incantation and then I simply slip into your mind. That's it. Sometimes I'm in there for hours, sometimes I'm only in there for a few moments. It depends on the purpose," she shrugged. "But, there are other methods for learning to cope without my having to enter your mind and remove any memories. And regardless, when magic is involved, memories are never truly removed. They are simply taken and relocated from one part of the brain to another, locked away and never to be thought of again. They can return, that is a possibility, but it would require something severe to break the containment ward. Personally, I've never seen it happen and I've yet to have any complaints, and I've been doing this for over a decade and seen to hundreds of patients... But I don't want to push you, so take some time to think about it, okay?"
Looking away from him, Hermione peered at the window, seeing the rise of the sun and knowing the windows were charmed to mimic that of the time passing outside of the house. This way, when she was buried in a book for hours at a time, she could gauge how much time had actually passed. But whilst it mimicked the passing of time, it didn't mimic the weather, only if it's asked to, per her spellwork, again, which is useful so she can ask to see the weather and dress accordingly.
She'd barely had any sleep and neither had he, but she was now wide awake and she knew from experience that after a bad night's sleep, Bucky wouldn't want to sleep again. The sun was up, they might as well do something rather than sitting around on the bedroom floor doing nothing.
"Are you hungry?" She asked him. "I'm not certain on the time but the rise of the sun means breakfast, and I'm not in the right frame of mind to fall asleep and I don't believe you are either."
Rising to her feet and feeling the tingling numbness in her legs, she steadied herself with a hand on the bed and then glanced down at him expectantly. He held her gaze a moment longer before his gaze lowered to the snoozing feline on his lap.
Hermione snorted, "It seems she's found herself a new favourite sleeping perch. She's well trained, just scratch her behind the ear to wake her and then tap her on the head twice and she'll move."
He looked dubious but did as she told him; reaching out with his right hand he carded his fingers through her soft fur, hearing a sleepy, protesting yowl from the cat as she yawned. She stretched out her body and then looked up at him with indigo-coloured eyes and after he patted her on the head twice, Captain released a meow of disapproval before she climbed from his lap, stretched her body out once more and then took her leave from the room with her tail high and swishing back and forth, leaving in search of a new sleeping perch.
"Told you," she grinned, seeing his look of surprise. "Come on, breakfast," she clapped her hands in encouragement that he hurry up. "I'm not entirely sure what I have left, but we'll make it work."
She waited for him to rise to his feet before heading for the door, pausing when she realised that he wasn't following her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him reaching for his gloves.
"You don't have to wear those," she told him, waiting until he lifted his blue orbs to her, his hand paused midway in pulling the glove on his left hand. "You are safe here," she promised, "And you don't have to hide anything from me," and with that, she left him alone.
She headed down the stairs and to the kitchen, ransacking her cupboards in search of anything edible whilst mentally compiling a shopping list, being sure to take into account the extra mouth to feed. He hadn't given her an answer but she was sure he would accept, no matter how much he believed himself unworthy of her help and kindness. But her house was the only place in the Muggle World he would be safe.
He was silent in his approach, Hermione unsure if it was intentional in order to see how easily she spooked and if she was afraid of him, or if it was done out of habit. Regardless, she'd felt his penetrating gaze on her back as she reached for the cupboard above, rising up onto her tiptoes and trying to reach the top shelf. Before she had the opportunity to climb onto the counter or drag a chair over, she felt his presence behind her, the fabric of his t-shirt millimetres from touching her own as he reached up and pulled the bagels from the shelf before setting them on the counter beside her.
She didn't realise she'd been holding her breath until he stepped back from her and she felt her lungs protesting. Sucking in a deep breath that had her shoulders rising and falling, she cleared her throat and turned to face him.
"Thank you."
"Why didn't you use magic?" He tipped his head, watching her curiously. "I assume there is something you could've done."
"Well, being a Muggleborn and not being raised from birth around magic, no matter how long I've known, I sometimes revert to muggle tendencies, forgetting that I am a witch, if that makes sense. And not only that but I like to keep myself grounded. I do my best not to take my magic for granted and use it for silly tasks that can just as easily be done manually. I wash the dishes by hand rather than using a charm, I usually cook without the aid of cooking spells, and sometimes I find that my instinct is to throw a punch rather than a hex or jinx."
Not being able to take his piercing stare, she turned away from him and focused on slicing the bagels in half and toasting them, adding a generous helping of butter that melted with the heat. Seeing as she didn't have any coffee, she made him a strong cup of tea with only a dash of milk, before preparing her own with a third milk and no sugar. After placing the items on the table, she waited until he crossed to sit opposite her before she made a start on eating.
"So, I'm curious," she began, waiting for him to give her his attention before she continued. "These abilities this serum gave you, what are they exactly? How do you differ to a regular human?"
He watched her with a calculating gaze.
"I'm a doctor, remember? A magical doctor," she pointed out. "I'm just curious how this serum may differ to some of our own treatments and capabilities."
He held her gaze a moment longer before nodding slightly, seeming to be willing to believe her. "Enhanced speed, strength, durability, reflexes and senses," he listed. "I can easily go days without sleeping, and I've a faster metabolism that allows for faster than normal healing, and I can never get sick or catch a disease."
"Really?" She perked up in interest. "And how fast a healing, would you say?"
"It depends on the injury. I've had a broken arm completely heal within a week, and a shallow knife wound within a few hours."
"That's interesting," she remarked. "Well, you've now seen and experienced what magical healing is capable of," she gestured to him pointedly. "We also have the ability to brew potions to enhance strength, durability and speed for a short while, but it can have side effects, depending on the individual. As for sleep, we have potions to help us sleep, not prevent it, at least for long periods of time. I know there's something students used to use to stay awake when they were cramming for exams, but it was frowned upon by the staff. And despite our magic, we are still human and do require a regular and healthy sleeping pattern to function. I wouldn't want to think what a half-crazed insomniac wizard would be capable of. And if you have a faster metabolism, I suppose that means you burn off calories and energy stores much quicker; you must be hungry often," she mused, looking to him in concern and thinking back on the times he'd refused to eat the food at the diner. She made a mental note to double her shopping list; she needed to shop as if she were feeding the Weasleys.
"And whilst you might not tire as easily and you are capable of going without sleep, I wouldn't recommend it. Your mind and body require both nutrition and sleep in order to function to its full capacity. And now that you're here, I'll be sure to see to it that you get both."
"I haven't agreed to staying here," he reminded.
"Why wouldn't you?" She arched an eyebrow. "You've food, shelter, safety and security. All free of charge."
"It's improper."
She snorted. "You're living in the twenty-first century, now, not the 40s. Things are different here, and it's perfectly acceptable and normal for a man and woman to be living together, regardless of their relationship. My parents lived together before they were married in the 70s," she shrugged. "Besides, even if it were unacceptable, no one knows either of us is here except for me and you. I know this may be difficult for you, but you really do need to change your mindset, and I'll help you adjust in any way I can. However, I know you accepting my offer would be you placing a lot of trust in me, so, take as much time as you need to think about it."
Finished with her breakfast, Hermione stood from the table and moved to the counter, quickly toasting the remainder of the bagels and adding butter before placing them before him. Once done, she turned her attention to washing the dishes from the night before and that morning, setting them on the draining board to dry, feeling his eyes on her the entire time but ignoring it.
Drying her hands with a tea towel, Hermione moved to the closest window and peered at it expectantly.
"Show me the current weather," she instructed, the image changing to show a surprisingly sunny sky and a gentle breeze that disturbed the trees.
Nodding to herself, she turned to face Bucky, seeing his questioning expression.
"Well, I don't exactly have a nice view, do I?" She replied to his unasked question. "The windows are charmed to mimic the passing of time, but they will show me anything I ask – the weather, a forest, a beach, a lake, whatever I'm in the mood for," she shrugged, moving to take his empty plate and mug from him and quickly washing those, too. "So, it appears to be a nice day, and I have a few errands to run. Do you want to come with me?" She asked, seeing the way his eyes darted to the door hesitantly. "No one will know," she promised, drawing her wand and giving it a gentle shake in her grasp, bringing his attention to it. "Magic," was the only word she offered. "It might be nice for you to be in public without fear of being recognised or found... I'm going to get ready, but I'll leave some clothes in your room if you wish to accompany me."
She took her exit and headed for her bedroom, searching through her clothes for anything that might be appropriate for him to wear, or that she may transfigure for him, Hermione making a mental note to purchase him some clothing of his own whilst she was out. After selecting and altering a pair of dark jeans, a clean white t-shirt and a black jacket, she sent them to his room before she searched for her own clothing that day, settling on a white summer dress that fell to mid-thigh, a light blue denim jacket and a pair of ankle boots. She pulled her hair back from her face and secured it atop her head in a ponytail and then she visited her bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth. After retrieving her handbag, she returned to the kitchen, her mouth pulling into a smile at the sight of Bucky stood awkwardly in the kitchen as he peered out the window intensely, the view changing with each muttered word that left his mouth.
He was dressed in the clothing she'd left for him, including his combat boots that he'd previously worn and he wore his leather jacket over the hooded jacket she'd provided.
"I'm glad you decided to accompany me," she said in lieu of a greeting, already knowing that he was aware of her return. "But we best see if I can fix the damage done to your jacket, to stop people from getting suspicious." He turned to look at her accusingly. "I said they wouldn't recognise you, not that they wouldn't see you," she pointed out. "I mean, I can make that possible, but should people see me talking to myself, they might think me weird."
She saw his mouth twitch in response and she moved to approach him, stopping before him with her wand in hand.
"Right, hold still, this won't hurt a bit."
She saw the stiffening of his form when she raised her wand and it hovered over the damaged fabric, and she muttered beneath her breath, seeing the slight staining fade but not disappear, and the fabric was stitched back together, temporarily.
She'd have to buy him a new leather jacket too, since he seemed to be so fond of it.
"It'll do for now," she said aloud, slipping her wand up her sleeve and into the holster attached to her arm. "Right, put this on," she instructed, a black baseball cap appearing from out of nowhere and into her hand before she held it out to him. He glanced down at it. "Magic," was all she offered, seeing that he took it from her hesitantly and placed it on his head, a visible shiver leaving his body. "Magic," she repeated when he looked to her for answers.
Her eyes darted around the room a final time, in search of anything she might have forgotten to clear away, noticing that a kitchen knife was missing from the block that sat on the kitchen counter, but she didn't mention it.
"Right, I'm ready, you?" She asked. "Excellent," she beamed when he gave a reluctant nod. "Then let's go."
She turned and headed for the door, descending the staircase and reaching for her beaded bag which she slipped over her shoulder and recast the Disillusionment Charm on to hide it from view.
"This morning, I thought we'd avoid apparition as it sometimes can affect the magic I've placed on the cap, so instead, we'll be driving," she told him, leading the way towards the large covered object before she took a hold of the sheet and pulled it free, folding it neatly and placing it off to the side.
Stood before them was a sleek black SUV that was adorned with four silver rings, the paint work pristine and the windows tinted black. She opened the passenger side door for him, showing him the black leather interior and the immaculate carpet, the car still having that new-car smell.
"I've had it two years but barely used it," she explained when he looked to her. "Now I have an excuse to. Go on, in you get, things to do, places to be and all that."
She waited for him to climb inside before she closed the door behind him and headed towards the driver's side, placing her handbag in the back seat before she climbed into the car, fastened her seatbelt and turned on the ignition, reversing towards the garage door that magically lifted to grant them leave.
Once they'd left and were driving down the road, the garage door closed and the building was no longer visible.
"And people didn't just see us appearing from out of nowhere, and in a car that looks to be more expensive than their houses?" Bucky asked her incredulously.
"Nope," she popped the 'p', turning to look at him with a grin. "Magic, Bucky. Magic."
She set the sat-nav to take her to the nearest shopping mall, intending to buy him clothing first, and most likely, his own wash and hygiene products. During the journey, he remained silent and without a seatbelt, she noticed but didn't comment.
The sat-nav didn't help with avoiding traffic and just as Hermione's patience was wearing thin, they finally reached their destination, Hermione pulling into a parking spot and climbing from the car, waiting for Bucky to do so as well so she might lock it.
He'd been quiet but comfortable, she'd assumed, but the moment they were out in the open, Bucky seeing the people entering and leaving the mall and milling around the car park, she saw the change in his posture, the wary expression that graced his features.
"When you're with me, you're safe," she promised, coming to stand beside him. "So, take as much time as you need to process that and when you're ready, we'll head inside. If I'm honest, I'm not comfortable around large crowds either, more so when I'm inside, so I'm looking to be in and out as quickly as possible."
His eyes lowered to her, searching her expression before he closed the car door, his decision made and his eyes still watching her.
"Then let's go," she offered an encouraging smile. "Stay close, I'm not in the mood for having to resort to tracking measures." His eyebrow quirked. "Most are illegal," she shrugged one shoulder, "But that's never stopped me."
His mouth stretched a little wider, the closest she'd seen to a smile yet before he fell into step beside her, his shoulders tense and his gloved hands fisted by his sides as they approached the large building. The noise hit them the instant they stepped through the doors, Hermione seeing Bucky's clear discomfort but he didn't voice it and so, she never mentioned it.
"We need to get you some new clothes," she told him, picking a store at random and heading towards it.
"Why?" He responded, and she hadn't expected him to.
"You're currently wearing my clothes, granted, I did alter them to fit you," she replied, seeing him tip his head as he looked down at himself contemplatively. "Although, the underwear was men's, and brand new. I sometimes buy items of clothing and later drop them off at homeless shelters and hostels; the underwear was all I had left of men's clothing. And your clothing was damaged and is beyond repair, despite my attempts. So, you need your own clothing, think of it as a step towards recovery. A step towards reclaiming your identity..." She halted to a stop by the doors of the clothing store and turned to face him.
"Who are you?"
"Bucky Barnes," he responded, blinking in confusion.
She smiled at him. "Well, Bucky Barnes, let's find your style." Turning on her heel, she stepped inside, him following her a moment later. "So, we need underwear, socks, pyjamas, casual wear, shirts, jumpers, maybe some sportswear, what do you think? Have I missed anything?" She peered at him over her shoulder, seeing that he looked highly uncomfortable and a little overwhelmed. "Don't worry, we'll take it one step at a time," she promised, reaching for a nearby basket. "Let's start with casual wear."
Despite intending to be in and out of the clothing store as quickly as possible, they'd spent over an hour browsing and Hermione encouraging Bucky to select anything that caught his fancy, and three shopping baskets later, their purchases had been paid for and they stepped out of the store, Bucky carrying the heavier of the bags despite Hermione's insistence that he needn't do so.
"Well, that's clothing ticked off the list," she began, heading for the nearest shoe shop. "Next, shoes. Yours are looking a little on the ragged side, and you can never have too many options."
They hadn't spent as long in the shoe store, being in and out within thirty minutes after purchasing three new pairs of shoes, and getting peckish, Hermione stopped at the food court long enough to purchase them both something for lunch and for them to eat it.
"We need to get you a new coat, something suitable for all weathers," she said aloud as she browsed the selection in another clothing store, eventually purchasing a new winter coat, a summer jacket and a new leather jacket to replace his current one.
"And now we need wash and hygiene products," she told him, stifling her laughter when she saw Bucky's unhappy expression as he trailed behind her, his hands and arms laden with shopping bags and his eyes glued to the ground. He looked incredibly bored and as though he were ready to go home. "But, we'll take these bags back to the car first," she decided.
After a quick trip to the car to deposit the shopping bags into the back seat, they returned to the mall, making their way through the busy crowd. It was a lot busier than it had been when they'd first arrived, having gotten there so early. But now it was midday and the weekend, and the mall was so packed, she could barely take two steps forward without potentially walking into someone.
When a group of young men were travelling in the opposite direction, one of them walked into Hermione, clipping her on the shoulder and causing her to stumble. She winced in pain and she'd have fallen had Bucky not reached out to steady her.
Rolling her aching shoulder, she looked over at him, seeing his head turned and his dark expression following the man that had walked into her, and he looked as though he were about to follow him and put his head through the nearest window.
"Leave him be," she told him. His head slowly turned to face her, that same robotic motion from before.
"He hurt you."
"Yes, he did. He's an arsehole and he didn't apologise, but I wasn't expecting him to. From my experience, people aren't as polite over here as they are in Britain. We apologise whether it's our fault or not; it's a reflex. Regardless, you don't need to hurt him in return. I'm fine, no harm done."
"Then why are you still rubbing your shoulder?" He challenged.
She scowled, realising he was right and she deliberately brought her hand away and dropped it to her side.
"Never mind, we're almost done here, anyway."
She picked up her steps and continued on her journey, Bucky falling into step beside her.
"Men have no manners," he muttered, and she looked up at him questioningly. "In my time, a man would never harm a woman as that man did you. Accident or not."
"Well, times have changed," she pointed out, "And sometimes, it's not always for the best."
~000~000~000~
"Do we really need all of this?" Bucky asked, peering inside the basket that was gripped in his hand, seeing the number of items and products that she'd put in since their arrival at the store. Soap, shower gel, wash cloths, razors, an electric razor, toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, a hairbrush, cologne and aftershave, beard trimmers and his own towels.
"Yes, we do," she responded, absentmindedly selecting a few items for herself and placing them in the basket along with his. "If you're staying with me, you need your own things."
"I haven't agreed to stay with you."
"Not yet," she chirped, "But you will, no matter how stubborn you are, but I think that should be enough for now, I can always come back later. So, we'll pay for these and then we can head to the supermarket."
The moment they returned to the car and placed their purchases in the back seat along with the others, she noticed the relaxing of his posture and the slumping of his shoulders.
~000~000~000~
"Is there anything in particular you like?" She asked, stepping into the supermarket with a trolley at the ready and reminding herself to shop as if she were feeding the Weasleys, that meant multiple of the same products, but she supposed it wouldn't matter that much so long as they were stored correctly and she used magic to lengthen the expiry date on perishable items.
"I don't know," he responded.
"Is there anything you remember from before? I know things are different, but chances are, we can still find it or something similar, or I may be able to recreate it for you. Or would you just prefer to browse and see what catches your eye, or if there's something you'd like to try? I imagine there's far more choice than what you're used to, both from your time and your previous imprisonment. What?" She looked to him after hearing his snort. "That's what it was," she defended. "You weren't there by choice, you were imprisoned, and I highly doubt they let you chose your own meals, in fact, did they even feed you?
"Yes."
"And?"
"I don't know what it was."
"Lovely," she grimaced, finding herself imagining a kind of gruel containing all the parts of food that people wouldn't normally eat. "Well, you're with me now and you're free, free to choose whatever you wish. But given your metabolism, I'm planning on purchasing more meat, protein and carbohydrates than I usually would for myself, that's a lot of bread, pasta and steak," she gave her head a shake.
He followed her around the supermarket, either nodding slowly and shaking his head when Hermione pointed out a product, but never actively seeking something out for himself. With the trolley full, they reached the final aisle, fresh produce. Hermione selected apples, grapes and oranges, as she usually would, and she glanced at the melons and mangos, debating whether she was in the mood for it. When she lifted her gaze, intending to ask Bucky if he would like it, he was nowhere to be seen.
She cast a glance around the aisle, catching sight of him further down and she approached, seeing him staring down at the plums contemplatively.
"Do you like plums?" She asked curiously.
"Plums are said to help with memory," he answered, "I remember eating them after escaping HYDRA."
Her expression softened. "Did it help?"
"I don't know."
"And did you enjoy them?"
He hesitated before nodding slowly. "Yes."
Nodding, she reached over and gathered a number of them into a paper bag before she set them in the trolley. She'd never been fond of plums, but if he wanted them, she wasn't going to stop him.
"Is there anything else you'd like to try that you haven't before?" She checked. "Whilst staying with me is all about recovering and making progress in taking back your life, it's also about new experiences."
She observed as his eyes catalogued his options, his attention caught by the blue-purple colouring of the nearby berries. She felt her mouth twitch as he approached and peered down at them curiously. He hadn't argued that he hadn't yet agreed to stay with her, as he had previously.
Following him, she said, "Blueberries," and she reached for the plastic container. "I'm not overly fond of them, but they are nice in muffins or in porridge." She set them in the trolley. "And strawberries, how do you feel about them? I only like the sweeter tasting ones."
"I don't remember," his brow furrowed.
"Well, we'll see if we can jog your memory, hmmm?" She set a carton of them in the trolley. "Right, milk, bread, eggs, bacon, protein, pasta, noodles, fish, fruit, toilet roll, vegetables, cereal, cat food and treats..." She listed aloud as she glanced down at the trolley and the items inside. "I think that's everything."
~000~000~000~
"Wow, I didn't realise that was the time," Hermione remarked, noting the time on the dashboard reading that it was almost five o'clock in the evening. They'd been out of the house since eight o'clock. "I suppose being diverted after that accident didn't help," she sighed. "No matter, we're done for the day. We can head home, put the shopping away and I'll make a start on dinner... So, how did it feel being in public?" She asked, starting the engine and pulling out of her parking space, heading for home.
"Odd. Unsettling."
She arched an eyebrow. "No one recognised you," she pointed out.
"That is what I find unsettling," he admitted and she snorted.
"Magic can take some getting used to. I know that you've witnessed it and felt its effects, but I suppose it truly hasn't sunk in yet that it exists."
"It has," he disagreed. "I have a higher than normal brain function," he told her and she rolled her eyes.
Of course he did, she thought.
"I can't remember the last time I wasn't waiting for or watching for an attack or ambush, or that I wasn't fighting for my survival. Being out for more than an hour was risky, but today, your magic made it so I was able to blend in with everyone else. That's not something I've experienced before."
"Well, for now, it's the new norm. It's your new norm. As I said, Bucky, you're safe with me and you can trust me, but I'm not going to push the matter. I know how hard it is to learn to trust again."
When they reached the street that housed Hermione's building, Bucky felt the ground shaking upon their approach and the building came into view, the garage door opening before closing once Hermione parked the car.
Climbing out, Bucky eyed they dozens upon dozens of shopping and grocery bags, contemplating how many trips would be required before they'd transported them from the car and up the stairs, but before he could reach out or voice his thoughts, the shopping bags silently levitated out of the car and up the stairs.
He blinked slowly, his gaze looking for Hermione and seeing her lazily directing the movement of the shopping bags with her wand whilst her attention was otherwise on pulling the sheet to cover the car, keeping it clean and preserved.
"What?" She asked, lifting her gaze after feeling his stare.
She didn't wait for a response, removing her beaded bag and slipping it on the wall hook before she followed the course of the shopping bags, upstairs and into the kitchen. Bucky wasn't far behind her, noticing that the shopping bags were by the seating arrangement, and the grocery bags were in the kitchen.
"I'm deciding whether I should put them away by hand or be lazy and use magic," she shared with him, her gaze darting between the bags on the ground and the cupboards before her. "Well, there is a lot of food," she nibbled her lip.
She hoped she could fit in all in. The bill had cost her more than a month's shopping, not that she minded, that is; she could more than afford it. It was just somewhat of a shock, giving her an insight into what the Weasley's food bill might have cost.
"And I'm hungry," she added. "Okay," she sighed, having made up her mind. "Magic it is."
Her wand in hand, she felt his eyes on her as she flicked it at the bags, the items of food being summoned and directed towards the correct cupboard, drawer and the fridge, it taking only minutes what might have taken her half an hour.
She smiled to herself happily.
"Great, now let's get your clothes put away," she decided, turning on her heel and having the shopping bags following after her as she headed to the floor above and the room she'd given Bucky.
Stepping inside, she made quick work of emptying the bags and setting the items into neat and tidy piles on the bed. She didn't want to unpack for him; she wanted to give him the opportunity to do it himself and organise his clothing the way he would like to, and she wanted to give him the privacy to do so. She supposed the last time he'd owned something was before he was taken by HYDRA.
That was why she was adamant that he choose his own clothing and food. She wanted to give him the freedom of choice, to show him that he was no longer a prisoner and his decisions and actions were his own. She may have purchased them, but they were his belongings, whether or not he chose to stay with her and accept her help.
Looking down at the bed, her eyes scanned the items, noting that Bucky had gone down the casual style route, and she wasn't certain if that was because it was what he preferred, if it was similar to what he might have worn in his own time, or if it was what he believed would help him blend in, but she supposed it didn't matter.
On the bed sat a pile of t-shirts, mostly dark shades with two white t-shirts thrown in, a pile of darkly coloured jeans, a number of dark jumpers, some woollen and others cotton, a number of shirts, mostly white, and three pairs of trousers. There also sat a selection of underwear and socks, pyjamas, tracksuit bottoms, the coats they'd purchased, and the shoes – a pair of trainers, a pair of oxfords, and, a new pair of combat boots.
She smiled to herself. It should be more than enough.
Again, he was silent in his arrival, but she'd felt his stare on her. Lifting her gaze, she smiled at him.
"I'll leave this here for you to put away as you please. I'll unpack your wash products in the bathroom and then make a start on dinner. Is there anything in particular you would like?"
He appeared thoughtful before he said. "Pizza."
Hermione's eyebrow arched. "Pizza?" She echoed.
"Pizza," he nodded. "I remember it. I think… I think I liked it."
Her mouth tugged into a smile. "Then pizza it is," she agreed. It was a good job she'd thought to put a number of frozen pizzas into her trolley.