Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the Marvel Universe, the Avengers or any of their characters. This is non canon, Harry is Heather, aka a female in this… I write for fun, hence this is fanfiction ;)
"Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die." Herbert Hoover
Captain Potter leaned back against the hard harness of her seat on the large military plane. Her time was up and she was shipping home. She had served her Queen and country proud. But she was tired, a bone deep weariness that weighed heavily on her.
At twenty-two she had been fighting for a decade if not longer. She had won the Final Battle against Lord Voldemort and soon found herself in an audience with the Queen. Her Majesty had learned of her actions and had awarded her the highest medals for both civilians and military. She had been knighted and given a title in the realm. She had been asked by the Queen to join a special task force in the military to hunt down terrorists in the Middle East.
Thus Heather Rose Potter found herself enlisted and put through the rigorous training of the British Special Forces. She along with dozens of other muggleborn and halfblood magic practitioners had answered the call of their monarch and country.
Heather had quickly risen in the ranks, earning her place and the respect of her fellow soldiers. Though she was much smaller than her fellow soldiers reaching only five foot two inches in height, she packed one Hell of a punch. She had proven herself both on and off the battlefield.
Closing her eyes, she knew that she would need to take some time to figure out what was next for her. She had gone from one war to the next and she feared she did not know what it meant to lead a normal civilian life. None of her friends from Hogwarts truly understood.
Many had gone on to live their lives as best they could. Some had gone on as if nothing had changed or happened. Others changed into completely different people, transformed with the aftermath of war and the loss of their childhoods. She couldn't blame them, not really.
However, as "The Chosen One" she never really had a chance at a normal life. Dumbledore and Riddle saw to it that she never really had a childhood. After winning the Final Battle it was almost a relief to be called to serve her Queen in the military. It was familiar to her, it gave her purpose.
Now she feared she did not know what to do with herself. Hermione and Ron had been hounding her to visit, and as much as she missed her friends nothing would ever be the same. She wasn't the same.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her emerald eyes to meet the eyes of her team, her brethren. They nodded to her in understanding. Their team was being given the option to retire from the services with full honors and benefits. They had been on the frontlines for the past five years and had been integral parts in apprehending and taking out numerous targets throughout the Middle East.
However, Her Majesty had decided it was time for them, for her, to rest. There was still a war waging, but it was now time to pass the baton. She would be reporting to Her Majesty shortly after arriving back in London. There she would have an audience with her Queen.
Her team was close and had fought, bled, and survived together in the rough terrain. Many of them would be sticking together in their next endeavors. None of them were reenlisting, they had decided as a team that they would be moving on.
Drawing a shaky breath, Heather nodded and closed her eyes again. Perhaps this time she went back to London the ghosts of her past would not haunt her quite so much. But really who was she kidding?
"I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity." Dwight D. Eisenhower
Captain Potter was dressed in her freshly pressed ceremonial uniform for her audience with Her Majesty. She was unsure of the nature of the visit, but when the Queen summons you, you do not question, you simply obey.
She was exhausted if she were being completely honest. Last night she had not slept well at all, plagued by memories and dreams of war, she found no rest. Waking several times smelling gunpowder, smoke, and blood, she could not find solace closing her eyes.
Following the swift footsteps of one of the staff, Heather schooled her features and followed. She nodded to those that she passed along the way and kept her head held high as she walked. Even as she passed she could hear the speculative whispering and the hushed tones of the people that she passed.
She watched as the gentleman she had been following opened a large ornate door and beckoned her to enter. Drawing a cleansing breath, she entered and smiled with affection for the Queen. After bowing and saluting her sovereign she entered further into the room.
Taking the seat offered, Heather exchanged pleasantries and sat on pins and needles. She knew that this was not simply a social visit. They spoke quietly, laughing and exchanging brief anecdotes of their experiences in the service. Before Her Majesty sighed heavily and looked her age.
"We find that we must ask you to serve us once more, Lady Potter." the Queen said almost sadly. "We have found that there is a threat on a global level that we wish to have you personally attend to."
"I will do whatever I can to help and serve you, Your Majesty." Heather replied honestly.
"There is an agency passed out of the United States called SHIELD." Her Majesty began carefully. "They've reached out to us in hopes of recruiting you to assist them in facing any threats that may arise on a global and national level. It is our hope that you will be able to do so, with our blessings, of course."
"I would be honored," Heather murmured, intrigued by the offer.
"You of course, have our full support," the Queen smiled. "A plane will be arranged for you by the end of the week. An agent of MI5 will be leaving you a package of the necessary information and supplies needed. You will act as our liaison."
Puffing out a breath, "This is a huge honor, Your Majesty. I shall endeavor to be worthy of the trust that you're placing in me."
"Nonsense, dear." The Queen chuckled. "We are most certain that you will more than succeed in your task. A bit of advice though? Do not forget to live your life. You are still young and have much to look forward to and live for."
"Thank you, Your Highness," Heather replied humbly.
The audience concluded and Heather was escorted through the gates to a waiting car. She sat in the backseat and breathed out shakily realizing that she would be off to her next adventure by the end of the week.
Chuckling to herself, she realized that she had a lot of packing to do. She would be going to the United States for an indefinite amount of time. Honestly, she wasn't going to complain about it either. It would be a fresh start for her, something that she was greatly looking forward to.
"Know thyself, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories." Sun Tzu
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Hermione demanded for what seemed like the hundredth time.
"Yes, Hermione, I am sure that this is what I want to do," Heather replied, rolling her eyes. "I leave in the morning and do not know if or when I will be back."
"Heather!" Hermione gasped in shock. "You just got home!"
"Hermione, listen to me for once!" Heather snarled, finally losing her patience. "This has not been my home in a long time. This is a chance for a fresh start for me. I know you're upset and you do not understand, but this is what I want!"
Rolling her eyes, she watched as Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. Snorting in frustration, she continued packing her things. Calling for Kreacher she instructed him to pack the rest of the things and to put them into storage. She also gave him a missive with instructions for Gringotts regarding her accounts.
Her intent was to transfer her accounts to the US branches of Gringotts. She would make use of her assets in the United States rather than leaving them to be neglected in England. It was her hope that the New York branch would know more about investing in the stock market.
Heather watched sadly as her friends left Grimmauld Place through the floo. She hadn't meant to blow up at them, but honestly they, particularly Hermione, treated her like she was still the wayward eleven year old she met on the train.
Kreacher returned after successfully completing his tasks from his Mistress. Heather walked through the empty halls of Grimmauld Place, wishing not for the first time that Sirius and Remus were still around. She missed them dearly along with all of the others that had not survived the war.
It was sometime later that she had fallen into a fitful sleep. Kreacher woke her a few short hours after she had fallen asleep to get up for the day. Her belongings were packed into shrunken trunks and stowed in her canvas russack along with the majority of her wardrobe. She would be traveling 'light' to the naked eye with just her russack and a backpack.
Shortly after waking up she stepped out the front door of Grimmauld Place to the waiting car. She sealed the House and had Kreacher seal the rest of her properties. Her will had been updated with Gringotts and her properties put in stasis. Her house elves were instructed to upkeep the properties in her absence.
Looking out the back window of the town car, Heather felt the weight on her shoulders ease a bit. She was not sure when or if she would ever set foot in that house again. She both loved and hated it and everything that it stood for.
Heather looked out the window at the pouring rain and realized that she was more than alright with leaving this all behind. She was ready to move forward and ahead. Enlisting was her first step, this next move across the pond was the next and she was more than read for it.
"When you talk to people who have been in combat, there's a sensory overload that happens. The color becomes vivid. Sounds become more pronounced. People talk about how, for them, the war was technicolor and real life was black and white after the war." David Ayer
Shouldering her backpack and large canvas russack, Heather made her way through the busy airport. She was glad that she had worn her leather jacket as it was chilly outside. Nothing like the winters in Scotland or even the freezing nights in the desert, but there was still a bite in the air in New York.
Weaving her way through the crowds, she headed towards the exit where she hoped she could hail a cab. To her immense surprise and relief there was a sleek town car waiting for her. A man in a suit held a sign with her name on it and nodded to her as she approached.
"Captain Potter?" he asked. "I'm Agent Phil Coulson and I've been sent to collect you to bring you into base."
"Hi Phil," she said with a weary smile. "I'm Heather Potter, it's nice to meet you. I appreciate the lift, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to get to my destination."
Phil nodded to her and opened the trunk for her to put her russack. Heather kept her backpack with her in the car. She knew that he was observing her, but she could not find the energy to care at the moment. He seemed nice enough and he had been part of the large packet that the MI5 agent had left her to read through.
Closing her eyes briefly, she leaned back in the seat and watched the world blur by as he expertly wove through traffic. Running a hand through her long, wavy black hair, she realized that she would need to either braid it back in a long plait or put it up in a bun. She did not want to cut her hair, but if need be she would.
After what seemed like several hours, they were pulling into an underground garage in the heart of the city. Heather was sure that he had back tracked and zigzagged around the city several times before entering the actual location.
Snorting in amusement, she knew that he thought she wouldn't know how to get there, but honestly? Did he not know her skillset? Grinning cheekily over to him she exited the car and shouldered her backpack before grabbing and shouldering her russack as well.
Heather followed him silently, taking everything in and observing silently. She knew that there was at least one person shadowing them from the garage. In the lobby, there was another that seemed to glance and look away. This person was a blonde male, light colored eyes, muscled, but he carried himself differently. He was either a spy or an assassin, deadly.
Trusting Coulson, she followed him silently through the maze of hallways behind a series of badge entrances. Finally they arrived in a large conference room where there were several people sitting around a large table. The man from the lobby was sitting there with a smirk, which she replied with an eye roll.
"Captain Potter!" a deep voice greeted here. "Welcome to Avengers Headquarters here in New York. I'm Director Fury and it is my understanding that the Queen specifically selected you for this endeavor."
Heather put her russack down and put her backpack beside it. Nodding to others in the room. She briefly took in each of their appearances and recognized them from the dossiers that she had read through prior to her departure.
"You're correct, Director." she replied. "Her Majesty summoned me upon my arrival back from my last tour of duty."
"We've noticed a few blanks in your files, Duchess." one of the men snarked.
"Stark, that's enough," another man said firmly.
"It is my understanding that if my records are redacted then you're not cleared to know the information," she said evasively.
"Stark, Captain Potter has been given the highest medals of honor as both a civilian and a member of the British Armed forces. She has more than proven herself both on and off the battlefield." Director Fury said firmly.
"I don't understand how someone can simply disappear off the face of the earth at the age of eleven!" Stark cried. "It makes no sense!"
Heather ignored the man and the others and faced Director Fury once more. "What level of clearance is the team being given, sir?" she asked. "Will I face sanctions for revealing about myself and my past or am I at liberty to ease the diva's delicate sensibilities?"
There were several snorts and laughs around the room as well as the indignant cry from Tony Stark. Heather paid no mind, but instead watched Director Fury. He had a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before he schooled his features.
"You've been knighted by the Queen of England," he said softly. "You've been granted dual citizenship and granted diplomatic immunity and amnesty in all realms for your service and sacrifice. You've got clearance to tell whomever you deem necessary."
"Right, well then it would be best to get it out of the way then," Heather said with a mischievous grin, her green eyes sparkling. "I'm a wand-wielding witch and I'm about to absolutely blow your minds."
"Whaat?" Tony asked in shock.
Flicking her wrist, her wand appeared from its invisible holster. A casual swirl of her wrist and Tony Stark's chair vanish, causing him to crash down on the floor. A flock of birds formed and flew up from a stack of papers. With another flick of her wrist her pensive popped into view and levitated towards the table. The others sat back in shock and some fear.
"This is a pensive," she explained quietly. "I can put my memories in it for you to see so you can see for yourself who and what I am."
"How does it work," Tony breathed.
Putting her wand to her temple, Heather closed her eyes and began drawing as many of her memories regarding the war as she could, specifically the year she spent on the hunt for Horcruxes and the Final Battle. Slowly she drew the wand towards the pensive as a blue wisp of energy ran from her temple into the waiting stone basin. After several long minutes she finished, her brow covered in sweat.
"All you need to do is touch a finger into the liquid," she said tiredly. "You'll be brought into my memories. However, you should be aware you will see, feel, and experience everything from my point of view. It's not pretty, but it is the only way that you will understand. It is difficult for me to talk about and even harder to explain things without you having some context."
"This is safe?" Bruce Banner asked.
"It's completely safe," she replied.
Director Fury approached first and then the rest of the team stepped up. When they looked at her she shook her head. They were expecting her to go with them.
"I've lived it once already, I will not go through it all again." she whispered hoarsely. "I'm plagued enough by the nightmares and memories. I'll answer any questions that you have, but I won't go in with you."
She watched as the group entered the pensive and knew that they would be in there for some time. Heather laid down on the ground, curling up against her russack and drifted off to sleep. Unsure of when they popped out of the pensive, she was in a deep sleep completely unaware of the shocked and horrified looks of the rest of the Avengers.
Hearing the voices of others, Heather blinked her eyes tiredly. "Questions?" she asked warily.
"I think we need a chance to digest everything that we've seen," Director Fury said soberly. "For what it's worth, thank you."
Heather ducked her head and swallowed thickly. "I just did what needed to be done," she murmured.
"You were just a baby!" Stark cried out in frustration. "Hell you're still a baby compared to the rest of us! What the Hell is wrong with witches and wizards that they sent kids to war for them?"
"Aye, Lady Potter," Thor boomed somberly. "You're a wee lass, but a fierce warrior. You should have been protected and cherished."
"Tell me," Natasha asked silkily. "Are your relatives still alive perchance?"
"They are and they will stay that way," Heather said firmly. "My cousin and I have reconciled and I'll be happy to never see or interact with my aunt or uncle ever again."
Clint sat in the chair quietly observing her. "Why wouldn't they fight their battles themselves?" he asked hoarsely.
"Most of them are cowards at best," she replied wearily.
"Welcome to the team Captain Potter," Director said before exiting the room.
Heather sat on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest. Around her the rest of the Avengers were still soaking in everything that they had seen and heard. To know that she had done and seen so much at such a young age did not sit well with them. Natasha especially felt a kinship to the young woman. They both had their childhoods stolen from them.
"Right," Steve Rogers said, breaking the silence. "You've read all of our files I'm guessing. Do you have any questions for us?"
"I did read the information provided to me," she answered, facing her fellow officer. "At this time I have no questions. I do however have slight concerns that I want to see if we can figure out. Magic and technology do not usually get along. My team was working on developing coms that used both and helped on our missions overseas."
"Do you think they would come to work for Stark Industries?" Tony asked in excitement.
Heather laughed softly, "Most of them were planning on following me here to the states. I'm not sure if they would work for you or if they would have to clearance to do so. Magic, as a rule, is not something that is supposed to be shared with non-magical people." she explained carefully. "There is a law stating that we are kept separated and secret. The Witch Trials were very real and caused our entire society of people to hide."
"We can speak to Director Fury," Steve offered. "I'm sure we can get the credentials and clearances needed especially if it will help the team."
Tony called JARVIS to contact Fury and reach out to the necessary channels to expedite the situation. Heather pulled a flat silver disc from her pocket and tapped her wand to it. Silently and thought of the message and had it sent to her team.
"What's that?" Clint asked curiously.
Snapping her eyes to his, she grinned. "Magic!"
"No really, what did you just do?" Natasha asked, sitting besides Clint.
"This silver disc has something called a Protean Charm on it," she explained, holding it up for them to see. "It is imbued with magic and used to communicate with the match discs. I reached out to my team to see who would be willing to help and when. I should be getting replies soon."
"Amazing!" Tony murmured. "And it works anywhere? How?"
Heather shrugged, "I'm not an expert by any means. My friend learnt this Charm when we were fifteen. However, it is a graduate level Charm and hard." she replied, looking down at the disc. She smiled as she watched replies scrawl across the smooth surface. "If you can get them the clearance, the rest of my unit can be here within a couple of weeks."
"How many are we talking about?" Director Fury asked from the door.
"Six highly skilled and trained magical soldiers from Her Majesty's Special Task Force," she replied with a slight smirk. "We've been together since basic training."
"Get me their names and we'll get them here." Fury replied. "For now they can work with Stark Industries and consult with SHIELD and the Avengers. Unless you all think that you've got room for six more team members?"
"Most of them don't want to fight anymore," Heather replied softly. "They want to help, but we all just retired with full honors from Her Majesty's service."
"And you?" Steve asked her quietly. "You still want to fight?"
Shrugging, "It's all I know." was her weary reply.
The room fell silent. Heather Rose Potter, Captain Potter was not what they were expecting. She was tiny, so much smaller than anyone else in the room. Her bright green eyes, pixie like features, and long black hair were striking. Though battleworn, she was a beautiful young woman.
"Follow me," Natasha said, standing up. "I'll show you to your quarters here. You're welcome to stay here until you find a place to stay."
"She can stay at Stark Tower," Tony said suddenly. "In fact you're all welcome to stay. I've got over ninety stories of unused floors."
"I appreciate the offer," Heather began.
"I insist, shorty." Tony said firmly. "You're part of the team now and we look out for one another. You can stay in the Tower, Hell you can even have an entire floor to yourself if you want."
"Are you sure?" she asked apprehensively.
Tony walked forward and shouldered her russack. "I'm more than sure. I meant what I said, you and everyone else is welcome to stay at Stark Tower." he replied seriously. "It'll give you a chance to settle in and you can check out the labs for your team if you want. Hell, your team can stay there too!"
"For now, sure." she replied with a grateful smile. "Just until I find my own place."
"For as long as you want or need," Tony insisted.
"Respecting our veterans includes providing them the ways and means they so desperately need to reintegrate into our lives and serve us again as productive members of our civilian community." -Charles B. Rangel
Heather looked out over the city skyline from the panoramic view of her floor in Stark Tower. She had been given a tour of the headquarters, before the entire team joined her and Tony in Stark Tower. Apparently, Bruce Banner already moved in and others of the team were contemplating taking Tony up on his offer. He wasn't even going to charge any of them rent as he already owned the entire building.
It really was quite a beautiful view as the sun was setting in the sky. The bright lights of the city were beginning to light the skyline as the sunlight faded along the horizon. She wasn't sure how she felt living in a city, especially one so large, but for now it was home.
"Everything alright?" Steve asked softly from beside her.
"It's a lot to take in," she replied quietly. "My team will be here next week, but this is not what we're used to. It's not what I'm used to. I haven't slept in a normal bed in years, nevermind lived in a luxury apartment."
"I know what you mean," he replied. "As you know I woke up after being frozen for seventy years. This world is vastly different from the one that I'm used to. You aren't alone trying to adjust."
"Neither are you," she said with a soft smile.
"My floor is the one below yours," he told her. "If you need anything you can pop in whenever."
"Same to you," she laughed softly. "Although I have a feeling most of us are going to end up on the communal floors below Tony's penthouse!"
"Most likely," he grinned down at the petite woman. "While we all like our privacy, I think none of us really like to be alone."
"That I can more than understand." she laughed. "Let's go up and see what we can scrounge up for dinner."
The pair walked to the elevator and stepped in, pressing the button to go to the main communal floor. They stepped off and walked in seeing that there was a large open living area with a large television and theater system set up. There was a gourmet kitchen set up with state of the art appliances as well as an enormous dining table.
It was tastefully decorated, lavish and yet comfortable. It was warm and inviting with a little bit of class. Overall Heather found it appealing. Walking towards the kitchen she rummaged through the cupboards and opened the refrigerator. She struggled to reach the boxes of pasta but Steve laughingly helped her.
She instructed him to find a large stock pot as she began pulling out ingredients. Heather grabbed packages of chicken and told him that they would be making some chicken parmesan. He raised an eyebrow at her, but simply followed her lead.
They joked as they prepared the meal. Heather was slowly introducing him to some of the more modern appliances as they cooked. She knew that he was still adjusting and that it could be overwhelming. She hoped that by doing this a little at a time she could help him acclimate and integrate.
Forty minutes later the elevator dinged and Tony stepped out. "What is that glorious smell?"
"We made dinner," Heather answered with a smile. "Hope you don't mind."
"Like an honest to God home cooked meal?" he asked wide eyed. "JARVIS let the rest of the team know that there's dinner up here!"
"Right away sir," the AI British voice answered.
A few minutes later Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and Thor strolled in. They all sat at the table talking while Heather was finishing up. Steve was leaning against the counter nearby watching the youngest member of their team.
"Take a plate for yourself," Steve said firmly. "The rest of us can serve ourselves."
Heather grabbed a plate and filled it with food before scurrying to the table. The rest of the team bustled to the kitchen loading their own plates as well. Soon the only noises coming from the area were sounds of eating and groans and moans of pleasure at the taste of the food.
"You made homemade bread?" Tony breathed. "Tiny, this is delicious!"
"Mention my height one more time and I'll turn you into a toad," she smirked at him, causing him to choke.
"You can really do that?" he asked in a high pitched voice.
"I can really do that." she stated firmly, giving him stink eye.
"Right, no more comments about her height or lack thereof." he muttered.
Heather subtly wiggled her fingers towards him, while talking to Thor who was sitting beside her. She kept her features carefully schooled, but knew that Thor had caught on when he grinned at her and gave a wink as they continued talking. Of course the Norse god would feel the magic around them.
There was a cough and then laughter around the table. Tony was seemingly oblivious so far as he continued to stuff his face. Clint was chuckling, trying to clear his throat. Natasha was grinning widely. Bruce was laughing outright.
"What?" Tony demanded.
"Your hair!" Bruce breathed.
Tony left the table and ran to the nearest reflective surface where he shrieked. "My hair, my beautiful hair!. I look like a clown!"
And he did. Tony's dark luscious locks were now in a curly, rainbow clown like 'fro. Heather smiled at him sweetly and wiggled her fingers causing him to yelp.
"Change it back!" he cried. "I'm sorry you're vertically challenged, but it's not my fault. Just change it back!"
"Vertically challenged!" Heather snorted. "That's a new one!"
"Please change it back!" he said stridently.
"If you're a good boy, I will after you clean up the mess from dinner," she smirked at his indignant look.
He sat down in an amused huff and dug back into his plate. The rest of the team were chuckling and finishing their own food. They had not sat down like this all together without there being a crisis or plotting in some time.
As a group they lounged around the table talking and laughing together. Heather could see that they had been through some stuff together and she appreciated that they were taking her under their wing so to speak. She was not sure what to expect when she was essentially volun-told that she would be joining SHIELD or the Avenger Initiative.
"I think it's a common misconception in the civilian community that the military community is filled with just drills and discipline and pain. They forget that these are humans who are in an abnormal situation." -Adam Driver
Screams surrounded her. All she knew was pain and she could taste her own blood. Heather thrashed around trying to break free from her captors. Her throat burned from her screaming as the torture curse was applied once more.
Sobbing, she begged them to stop, screaming that she didn't know anything. Her heart hammered in her chest as she felt the sharp blade of Bellatrix Lestrange carving into her arm. Scarring and branding her for life, reminding her of her place in their society. She and her dirty blood were not welcome in their world.
Heather was fighting the unseen hands. Screaming and crying as the team flew into her rooms in shock and alarm. JARVIS had alerted them to her distress and they had gone running. None of them knew what to expect, but seeing the smaller woman thrashing around in the throes of a nightmare and memory was horrifying. They could clearly see her scars along her arms and shoulders.
Bucky had stopped in before heading to headquarters. He was visiting Steve when JARVIS warned them of the distress of Captain Potter. He was instantly on alert seeing Steve shift and turn sprinting towards the stairs. Following behind his best friend, they both sped up hearing the horrific screams coming from the floor above them.
They pulled up short in the room of a young woman screaming. He recognized the signs of someone having been tortured. Swallowing thickly he approached the side of the bed with Steve. Both men dropped to their knees and began talking to her.
"Heather!" Steve called out firmly, but gently. "Heather, you need to wake up now. You're in Stark Tower and you're safe."
"Captain Potter!" Bucky tried, seeing no recognition or response he tried something else. "Alright, Heather, I know you can hear us. It's just a dream, just a memory. Wake up, doll."
"Mr. Stark, Miss Potter's heart rate is reaching alarming levels. She would perhaps benefit from a sedative." JARVIS informed the group.
Bucky, having experienced similar situations of his own, sat on the edge of the bed and gently reached out for the petite woman. Tugging the blankets wrapped around her away, he carefully eased onto the bed and pulled her up against his chest, holding her firmly, but gently.
"Easy there, doll." he murmured into her ear. "You're safe and we've got you. You've got to wake up now and take a breath."
Heather slowly came to consciousness before she burst into tears and buried her face into the shoulder of the man who was holding her. Much later she would be mortified and embarrassed, but right now she needed comfort and felt safe in the strong arms of whoever held her. She could feel the phantom tremors running through her body. Her nerves felt like they were on fire and she ached.
"Back with us now?" a deep voice rumbled into the crown of her head.
Not able to speak, she nodded into the muscled chest. She felt the arms holding her tighten around her and found herself following the breathing pattern of the large male. His voice was not familiar, but she found it comforting. She knew that Steve was beside her taking on the role of mother hen as he spit out questions in rapid fire. This man must know Steve and the team she mused as her eyes grew heavy once more.
Her hands tightly gripped the shirt of whoever it was she was sitting on. Burrowing her face against the warmth of his chest she breathed in the musky, yet very male scent mixed with aftershave and leather. It was heady and given any other circumstance she might have remembered that the scent bore a striking similarity to what her Amormentia potion had smelt like in school.
"I think she fell asleep again," Bucky said awkwardly to the rest of the room.
Steve grinned at his friend's discomfort. "She definitely fell asleep again."
"And it looks like she won't be letting go anytime soon," Tony smirked. "Right, well now that I know that she's not being murdered, I'm going to go back to sleep."
The rest of the team nodded to Bucky in amusement before filing out. Steve sat beside him looking far to amused. Rolling his eyes, Bucky shifted her in his arms and tried to lay her back, but she clung to him. Swallowing thickly he looked down, really looking at the tiny woman in his arms.
Sighing he toed off his boots knowing that it would be nearly impossible to wrangle free without waking her. He just hoped that she would not wake up completely alarmed at a strange man in her bed holding her. Steve looked at him with an eyebrow raised before nodding.
"I'll be out on her sofa," Steve said to Bucky.
"I read the packet we were given about her," Bucky murmured, shifting both his body and hers further into the bed. "I think there was a lot that was left out of her profile."
"You'll have to ask her," Steve replied sadly. "She showed us some of her memories, Buck. It's worse than anything that most of us have experienced. The worst part is, she was just a kid. Hell she's just a kid now. Heather is only twenty-two."
"Well, let's try to get some more sleep," Bucky murmured, looking down at her delicate and aristocratic features. "Hopefully she doesn't wake up and slap me for this."
Steve chuckled as he left the room. He opted to leave the door open and went to the living room to curl up on the sofa. With Heather being so vulnerable he wouldn't leave her alone.
"Alright sweetheart," Buckley whispered. "Let's get some more shut eye."
He shifted so they were in the center of the king sized bed that Tony had in each of the master suites. Heather still clung to his shirt and he couldn't find it in himself to wake her. Hell, after hearing her scream like that he had a hard time fighting back his deadly alter ego from hunting down the bastards responsible.
Maneuvering around he managed to tug the blankets back up and wrapped his arms around her smaller frame. She really was tiny in comparison to his much larger muscular build. His hands easily spanned her waist and she was a good foot shorter than himself.
Losing himself to his thoughts he breathed in her floral scent. He couldn't quite place the flower, but he also smelled a hint of coconut and a scent that seemed distinctly Heather. All in all it was a very feminine, very appealing package wrapped in a petite, but curvy and toned body.
Shaking himself from that train of thought, he shifted slightly. Heather burrowed her face into the crook of his neck and sighed. Her faint puffs of breath fanned along the sensitive skin there and caused goosebumps to form. Mentally cursing, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
Finally he must have drifted off because the next thing he knew he was waking to the bed shifting. His eyes snapped open to find bright green eyes peering into his own. Damn, she was beautiful, he thought to himself as he watched her carefully. He made no move and just let her take in her surroundings as he waited.
Steve, having heard movement, came to the doorway of the room and stopped. "Good morning, Heather." he greeted with a kind smile. "That's Bucky. Last night-."
Heather dropped her head into her hands as she blushed hotly. "Oh my God!" she wheezed in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. I had a nightmare, didn't I?"
"Easy there, sweetheart." Bucky said calmly. "It happens to the best of us. We've all been there at some point. I imagine after sharing your past with the team drummed it all up again for you."
Heather raised her head and met his eyes. She could see the same pain and grief in his eyes as she knew were in her own. Much like Steve this man was out of sorts and out of place in the world that they found themselves in.
"Yes it brought it back up," she whispered. "I haven't had a bad one like that in years."
"Why don't we head upstairs for breakfast?" Steve offered. "I'll go make sure there's coffee."
"Right," Bucky said standing from the bed. "I'm going to head to my room and take a quick shower and change. I'll meet you both upstairs."
"Thank you," Heather whispered as he began to leave the room.
Bucky paused and turned to look at her. "No thanks needed," he replied with a boyish grin. "It wasn't a hardship to cuddle a pretty girl." Giving a wink, he left the room chuckling.
"Bloody Hell," Heather muttered while blushing brightly.
Climbing from the bed, she turned to make it before heading to her ensuite bathroom. She would take a shower before facing everyone. Hopefully it would make her feel better. Rummaging through her russack she pulled out a long sleeved shirt with thumb holes and a well worn pair of skinny jeans. Once she had grabbed her under garments, she entered the ridiculously large bathroom and walked towards the shower.
Stripping away her sleep clothes she looked at herself in the mirror. Over the years she had picked up a number of nasty scars. There was the Basilisk bite on one arm and the knife scars on her left. The first was from when Pettigrew resurrected the Dark Lord. The second was from when Bellatrix carved the word 'mudblood' into her at Malfoy Manor.
While Bellatrix abhorred Hermione for even existing, she loathed Heather. Heather had defeated her Lord a number of times, but the real insult was her having inherited the Ancient and Noble House of Black with all of its titles, properties, monies, and assets. Bellatrix was seething when she learned of this and found the perfect opportunity to enact her own brand of revenge against her.
Shaking herself she turned and climbed into the steaming shower. The water sluiced away the sweat and grime from her travels and nightmares. Lathering the loufa, she poured a generous dollop of her lily of the valley scented body wash. After rinsing, she washed her hair with her coconut scented shampoo, rinsing and combing her fingers through her long, curly tresses.
Over the years she had experimented with different scents but found comfort in the scent of the lily of the valley. It reminded her of her mum, who she later learned used the same scent. Coconut she found to be soothing, much in the way that she found flying to be soothing.
One of her first holidays she had flown to the Caribbean with her team for some R & R. The sunscreen was coconut scented and she was obsessed with it. The sound of the waves and the gentle ocean breeze gave her peace and helped to center her, more so than flying ever could, and that was saying something.
Turning off the water, she wrapped her body in the large fluffy towel and began to dry and comb her long hair. Debating needing a haircut, she tugged the comb through her hair. She had not realized that it now reached close to her lower back. Of course her hair was still wet and once her unruly tresses dried it would bounce up in curls.
Heather dressed quickly, opting to leave her hair down for the time being. Tugging on a thick pair of socks she grabbed her boots and laced them up before heading towards the elevator. Her hair was dry after a simple flick of her wrist, but she felt no need to put it up as she stepped out onto the communal floor.
Apparently her appearance was different enough from the day before that most of the men stopped and stared at her. Having her hair down and wearing more civilian, casual clothing seemed to be a drastic change apparently. Only Natasha seemed to understand and the women shared a look.
"Coffee's up, wee one." Tony teased, causing Heather to shoot him in the arse with a stinging hex, causing the man to yelp in shock. "What was that?" he demanded.
"Stinging hex," she shrugged, grabbing a cup of coffee. "I did warn you."
"Though she is but little, she is fierce," Thor grinned down at her. "Lady Heather, are you feeling refreshed?"
"Much better thank you," she answered with a smile.
"Hey!" Tony said indignantly. "Why doesn't he get hexed or zapped or whatever that was?"
"He is a Norse god. You are an annoying man child." she replied with a smirk. "There's a big difference there, tin man."
"I see how it is," Tony sniffed before digging into his breakfast.
The group chuckled and sat eating together before leaving for the various routines. Most of them would be leaving on assignment in the near future. Heather would be getting the lay of the land and getting accustomed to life in New York and working with the Avengers and SHIELD for the time being.
Fury wanted her to work with both Steve and Bucky while Natasha and Clint were being sent out. Thor would be returning to Asgard in the near future. Tony and Bruce would be working on various projects, including working alongside Heather's team members.
Heather fell into a routine. She worked with Bucky and Steve as well as other agents from SHIELD that put her through the paces. With her military background she was not behind on her training or skill set, but they were refining it and honing further. Despite her petite stature, she packed one Hell of a punch, many sport bruises to prove it.
Despite the additional training, Heather often found herself waking in the middle of the night with nightmares and memories. Not wanting to wake anyone, she had asked JARVIS to direct her to the gym and training rooms within the Tower. It was there that she would work herself into exhaustion and beat back her demons.
Wrapping and taping her hands and feet, she would spend hours beating the large punching bag hanging in the room. Once finished unleashing her pent-up anger and aggression she would cool down and do yoga for a solid hour before stumbling to bed. It was her routine and so far, it was working for her.
Bucky had taken to checking in on Heather from the shadows. Each of them suffered from nightmares and memories and had their own way of dealing with it. He and Steve both hated sleeping for fear of not waking or waking up decades later in a completely unfamiliar world.
He leaned in the corner with his arms crossed over his broad chest watching Heather move. His lips quirked slightly watching her fluid movements, knowing that she would and could do some serious damage should she ever find herself unarmed. It was comforting and terrifying at the same time.
For Bucky interacting with and flirting with women came easily. However, with Heather Potter newly dubbed Dark Rose, he found himself floundering. There was just something about the little pixie that had him fumbling and bumbling like Steve. That thought had him smirking ruefully. Who knew all it took was a five-foot two-inch tall, little spitfire to turn him into a chump?
Heather for her part knew that he was there. She could sense him in the background, but ignored his presence, blocking everything out. Part of her training and instincts dictated that she identify, assess, and deem friend or foe at all times. These were inherent instinctive steps honed through wars, both magical and mundane.
Giving the bag a last round of kicks and punches she caught the bag breathing heavily. Leaning her head against the heavy weight, she closed her eyes trying to control her breathing. Her nightmares this night had been particularly horrific.
She woke up nauseous and gasping before throwing herself into the bathroom and throwing up. Her dreams had been plagued by the Final Battle and everyone that had been lost. The unseeing eyes of children, classmates haunted her even now five years later. Drawing a deep cleansing breath, she acknowledged that they probably always would.
"Everything alright, Bucky?" she asked tiredly.
"I could ask you the same thing, pixie," he teased half heartedly.
"Pixies are vicious little blighters," she murmured. "Tiny, but Hell to deal with. I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not."
Bucky let out a surprised laugh that seemed to startle him. "No insult meant," he assured with a small smile. "I see I'm not the only one that cannot sleep."
"Memories," she whispered, turning to face him with sad green eyes. "Memories haunt me even in my sleep. The Final Battle should have never had to happen. It should have never been our responsibility, my responsibility. More families lost their children that day than I care to think about."
"It wasn't your fault," he told her gruffly. "The adults in your life let you all down. All of you did what you had to do in order to survive. The deaths of those children are on the hands of the adults and those in power, not yours, doll."
"I wish that I could agree with you," she replied sadly. "I led them to battle, to their deaths. It's a difficult burden to bear."
"It's a burden to anyone who goes to war, sweetheart." He told her, sitting beside her on the mat. "Anytime a soldier goes to war there is a risk that is taken. It is a risk that each person accepts and understands. Don't take ownership of that."
Heather choked out a sobbing laugh. "If only it were that easy." She croaked. "So many families were destroyed that day. I feel like I let them down when I joined the Queens Services, but I couldn't stay and handle it all anymore."
Bucky cautiously reached out and pulled her against his side. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her smaller frame to his own and just let her cry it out. He wondered when the last time she allowed herself to do so was. After everything that she had been through he was surprised that she hadn't done so before now. Survivor's guilt was Hell, everyone on the Avengers team knew it first hand.
"I've got you, sweetheart." He murmured into her hair. "Let it all out. It's okay to not be okay. None of us are okay and that's fine. We just need to work through things and get better even if it takes time. You're going to be okay."
Heather leaned in, taking comfort in the larger muscled man's embrace. She felt safe with him, something that she had not felt in a very long time. Sure, she trusted the rest of the Avengers team, but with Bucky and to a certain point Steve, she felt comfortable and safe. It was something that she was beginning to latch onto.
"Sorry," she murmured against his chest. "I promise I normally don't cry or break down."
"Happens to the best of us, doll." He replied with an easy smile.
Leaning against his solid frame, Heather felt grounded. "When do you think we will be sent out?" she asked him.
"It's hard to tell for certain, but soon I would imagine." He replied honestly. "Clint and Natasha should be back in a few days. Once they give their briefing, we will be heading out shortly thereafter. I would imagine the mission will be based on their findings."
"If that's the case I'll start getting my gear ready," she sighed.
"Right," he snorted. "As if it's not already packed and ready to go."
Heather rolled her eyes, but smiled and blushed slightly. He was correct in his assumption. It was rare that she didn't have her gear on standby and ready to roll out at any minute. Just like she knew that anyone else on the team, perhaps all of them, were the same. It was a habit from being battle ready at a moment's notice.
"Why don't you go get cleaned up and we can go grab some breakfast," Bucky offered.
Heather looked up at him and found him looking down at her with a slight flush creeping up his neck. Flashing him a grin she nodded, dimpling slightly. She watched in fascination as his Adam's apple bobbed in response before he cleared his throat and returned her smile. Interesting, she thought to herself. Perhaps the attraction she felt for him was not one sided.
"Breakfast would be great," she replied, laughing as her stomach rumbled. "I'll run up to my room and grab a quick shower and meet you?"
Clearing his throat again, Bucky nodded. "I'll meet you in the foyer on ground level in twenty?"
"Brilliant," Heather hopped up and waited for him.
They entered the elevator and hit their respective floors. The pair felt no need to fill the silence with awkward conversation. Heather found it a refreshing change from some of her friends who felt the need to talk about everything and anything all the bleeding time!
Sometimes quiet was needed. As an only child who grew up in an abusive household, Heather often found that she needed solitude. She felt more comfortable in quiet spaces and relished in the peace. She got enough action in battle, she did not feel the need to fill her peace with mindless chatter.
While she loved Hermione dearly, the girl often did not know when to stop! Rather than accept that Heather did not wish to speak of things, she would push and nag until Heather lashed out. Many of their arguments stemmed from Hermione pushing too far. She supposed that she held some responsibility for their fractured friendship. However, she would not feel bad for sticking up for herself and her convictions. Hermione and Ron did not understand her need to leave the Magical World and enlist in the Queen's services, and she found she was done caring.
Stepping off the elevator with a smile and a wave, Heather walked into her flat and moved through the rooms towards the Master bedroom. She turned on the shower and stripped from her sweaty workout gear. Climbing into the steaming shower, she sighed as the heat eased her muscles and the tension that had been building.
"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me." ~unknown
"It is a war within yourself that never goes away." ~ unknown
Twenty minutes later found herself dressed in a pair of well-worn skinny jeans and her boots with a comfortable sweater. She was plaiting her hair in a long French braid when Bucky approached her. He was dressed in his customary worn jeans, dark t-shirt, and leather bomber jacket.
"There's a place a few blocks away that has a great breakfast spread," he told her with a smile. "It's an Irish Pub that makes a mean Irish coffee."
Heather laughed happily, "Well I can't turn down a proper Irish coffee." She winked at him. "Though a full English Breakfast is something I haven't had in a long while. I can't wait to see what they've got on the menu!"
The pair walked through the streets of New York. Even with it being before six in the morning it was still bustling. Granted there were not nearly as many people as there would be in just a short hour or two, there were still quite a few people up and moving.
Bucky kept glancing down at the petite woman at his side. Only Steve had brought out such protective tendencies in him prior to meeting her. It was something that he found exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. She was new to all of them and yet he and Steve both agree that they felt a connection to the woman. While Steve's seemed to be a more platonic connection, Bucky found himself mesmerizing by her. From her lilting accent to her captivating emerald eyes, he couldn't seem to not notice her.
As they walked, Bucky took the street side of the sidewalk. It was a habit that had carried over from his upbringing. His pa always told him to make sure that a lady was safely blocked from the street. The painful tug of grief swamped him briefly before he stamped it down ruthlessly. There was no use in thinking about it, they were all gone decades ago.
Quicker than he had anticipated they found themselves in front of McGregor's Pub. The front door was open and there were a few tables outside in the brisk air. Bucky guided her inside with his hand resting on the small of her back, nodding to the bartender. He found a high top table in the back corner facing the door.
Heather hopped up on the seat and smiled gratefully at the bartender who dropped off a couple of menus. There were only a few other people there so it was quiet, but almost familiar. It reminded her of Rosmerta's in Hogsmeade. Grinning, she found that they did indeed have a full English breakfast on the menu, however she highly doubted that she could eat all of it.
"Well I'm pleased they've got a full English on here," she smiled at him, her eyes sparkling brightly and her dimples showing. "However, I highly doubt I'll be able to even eat half of it!"
"Get it anyways," Bucky chuckled. "Either I can eat it, or you can box it and bring it back."
Heather laughed softly and bantered with the bartender, who was in fact Irish. Apparently McGregor's was a family pub that had been there since their ancestors had arrived in the colonial days. Bucky sat back watching with a slight smile. She seemed much better than she had been earlier.
Ian, the bartender, took their orders and brought over their Irish coffees. Their heaping plates of food came out a little while later and they dug in. Heather had been right that the portion was far too much food for herself. Bucky had indeed eaten what she couldn't. He chuckled and told her that he remembered having a similar breakfast when he had been stationed in Britain during the war.
Bucky waved her off and settled their bill and chuckled good naturedly when she said she would get their next trip. They strolled down the streets of New York and made their way towards Central Park. It was a place that while in the heart of the city, was a step away from the hustle and bustle. It gave the illusion of being away from it all, even if only briefly.
They walked through the park before stopping to sit on one of the benches near a large pond. The leaves were starting to change. There were vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows all around them. For Heather it was a new experience and it was stunning. She felt at ease and at peace right there in the middle of the city with Bucky beside her.