June 15th 1943

Hermione tracked Steve's thin shoulders as he made his way to the mess hall. He and his fellow volunteers had unpacked their bags, and they play fought with each other ahead of him. Steve put his hands in his pockets and avoided swinging elbows on the way to dinner.

"Problem?" Peggy asked, coming up from somewhere behind. She helped watch the group of men march away.

"Steve," Hermione answered honestly.

"Yes, the newest volunteer," Peggy breathed out with a furrowing brow. "Dr. Erskine's pick from last night in New York. Phillip's isn't impressed. To be fair, after reviewing his medical files, neither am I." She shook her head in thought. "He's been listed as having asthma, high blood pressure, heart trouble, colorblindness, and a weak immune system that's left him with scarlet and rheumatic fever in the past. Now while the serum is theoretically able to fix his list of ailments, he's not what one would call standard US Military or SSR material."

"Don't shut the door in his face just yet," Hermione said, unable to look away from Steve's retreating back. "He might surprise you."

Peggy blinked. "I didn't say I would. I know what it's like to have people shut every door because of the way you look." She glanced back to Hermione and raised a brow. "Already taking Abraham's side Agent? We haven't even reviewed training yet."

"No Peggy," Hermione said, "It's worse than that. That's him from Brooklyn. My Steve." She met her friend's gaze with wide eyes.

Peggy was confused for a moment before her eyebrows drew up in surprise, and she turned sharply to scope out the shortest man on base. "That's him?" she asked, her lips growing tight in her focus. "The one who always writes to you?"

"And sends me Christmas presents when I'm out of state," Hermione nodded faintly. "Who send me drawings of home so I don't miss the changing seasons. Who held onto baseball tickets for months just to see if I could get away for a day to watch a game together. Who comes back with a new bruise every time I see him because he refuses to walk away from- ."

Peggy turned to study Hermione's face. "He-" Hermione swallowed and felt a surge of fear and anxiety sweep over her. She crossed her arms over her stomach and clenched her teeth.

Peggy stepped softly closer. "When did this happen?"

Steve's group of men disappeared into the mess, and Hermione remained unmoving in the dying light of the New Jersey sunset. She didn't try to deflect or lie her way around Peggy's question. They knew each other too well for that now. "I don't know," Hermione answered truthfully. "Yesterday? A year ago? Just now?"

Peggy looked between her eyes. "Did he tell you?"

"That he was here? No," Hermione shook her head. "I haven't seen him in months, not since I left to take the tour of Uncle Sam's bases."

"And Dr. Erskine?"

"Peggy, I didn't know until I saw him lined up with the others this morning. I hadn't a clue."

Hermione felt the taller woman's hand curl over her shoulder, and Hermione grabbed on like a lifeline. They sat in silence as the sun continued to set, because what could be said? Hermione knew what these men were here to do, and damn if it didn't make sense that Steve, her Steve, would be the first to step in line too. To volunteer himself as a lab rat for the good of America, her soldiers, and the Allies in the War.

Anxiety ballooned in her chest.

And with her serum. Her brainchild of nearly three years with Abraham.

What if it went all wrong?

What if the Vita Rays didn't react to the serum and the electromagnetic radiation just turned his insides to mush?

What if the serum didn't bond with the proteins of his cellular fibers and his molecular density was liquefied under the strain?

These were calculated theories and risks, Hermione knew full well, as they had never properly tested the entire process on a living being before. And Merlin, what if it all happened to him?

"Hermione you're going to give yourself an attack," Peggy said, shaking her roughly from her thoughts.

Air hit her lungs in a gasp, and Hermione realized dimly that she hadn't been breathing. "What if I-"

"-kill him?" Peggy asked neatly, because she knew the risks too. Not the full understanding of each equation, but she got the process of a sticky ending. "You won't."

"I-"

"You won't."

But they might, and they both knew it. Hermione had no idea how to put this all in a letter to Bucky.

June 16th 1943

"Recruits!" Colonel Phillips barked early the next morning, causing everyone in earshot to stand a little straighter in attention. The row of recruits focused directly ahead, and Hermione purposefully skimmed over Steve's eyes as she watched the Colonel walk back and forth in front of their row.

"By the end of this week one of you will demonstrate not only the physical conditions of a soldier in your position, but also the mental agility, the moral integrity, and the American tenacity of something more." Colonel Phillips stopped and folded his hands behind his back. "Agent Carter, Agent Granger, Sergeant Duffy, and myself will take turns overseeing the training in this operation until we have the one man who will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir!" they echoed in unison.

"Good. Training starts now. Lets go on a run boys. Five miles. Agent Carter, with me on this," he said as he made his way to to the Jeep Hummer.

Hermione stood next to Peggy and Sergeant Duffy off to the side, clipboard in hand, as she felt the beginnings of New Jersey's oppressive humidity curl at the base of her neck. She handed her clipboard to Peggy and turned to the Officers Cabins as Sergeant Duffy called the men into column and began their run. She'd like to say that she felt the warmth of a pair of eyes follow her as she left, but it was probably just the New Jersey heat.

Hermione made it to her own cabin and sat down heavily on the edge of her bed. Determined to avoid the wallow of foul emotions surrounding her, Hermione closed her eyes and placed her hands on the tops of her bent knees. She let her thoughts dwindle away as she began to control her breathing. She wiped the feelings she'd been fretting over for the past three days away from her center of self, and opened her palms to the ceiling of her room. As she counted the exhale of her breaths, she worked her way through several occlumency exercises. The thin and crumbling walls of her mind that had once stood so thick and proud after the War blatantly demonstrated the large volume of time she had ignored her mental lessons.

Hermione removed herself from the outside world, and passed the time by strengthening her shields and carefully organizing her mental state into something more manageable. By the time Hermione heard the knock of her dorm door and resurfaced from her isolation, the morning sun outside her shuttered window had dipped entirely to the other side of the horizon. Hermione got up from the bed slowly.

The expectation of seeing Peggy or Abraham with a summons to dinner vanished when Hermione opened her door and looked slightly down at a mop of blonde hair. "Steve?" she blinked in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

He still wore his PT trousers and shirt, dirt smudged across his arms and under his chin. He looked at her with wide eyes and swallowed. "Herm- ma'am, I know I'm not supposed to be here right now, but I had to-"

Passerby's on their way to dinner glanced with raised brows and nudging elbows at the Private standing in front of her cabin door, and Hermione made a quick decision to take whatever this was away from her room. She stepped forwards into Steve's space, and he choked on his words as she closed the door behind her. "Let's take a walk," she said, eyeing the passing soldiers and keeping her hands to her side.

Steve followed her gaze and fell in line to her right. They made their way in the opposite direction of the flowing crowd, and stopped by the Postal Office near the front gates. A few stragglers to dinner walked by, but it was clear that the draw of the nights food pulled more than the temptation of eavesdropping.

Hermione placed her hands behind her back and put more than a respectful amount of distance between the both of them before facing Steve.

He mirrored her pose and met her gaze with unblinking, careful eyes. "I didn't know you worked here," he stated firmly, starting off. The flex of his jaw echoed the earnest cut of his words as he continued on, "I had no idea that takin Dr. Erskine's offer meant that I'd be workin in the same place Hermione, I swear. I didn't just say yes because I-"

Hermione blinked at his words and frowned as they processed across her own thoughts. "Wait," she interrupted and frowned further. "Do you think, that I think, that you ... followed me here?" she asked.

Steve froze. Hermione swore she could see the sinking of his chest as he exhaled. "Don't ya?" he said instead.

The smell of unwashed man carried from the wind, and she grimaced. "Of course not. Not at all."

Surprise crossed his face. "Oh."

Hermione almost rolled her eyes to the heavens and asked Merlin to strike her where she stood. "Oh honestly Steven-"

"You looked like you'd swallowed a lemon whole when you saw me up there!" Steve burst out, and Hermione retracted her future words.

Hermione was on the cusp of telling a white lie, something easier to dismiss, when she remembered Bucky's voice from only a few days ago. "Don't you think that's his choice too?"

Her Gryffindor courage escaped her and she pulled her arms in around herself, biting her lip. "I was scared," she admitted quietly.

Steve's eyes widened. Clearly that wasn't what he'd been expecting. "Scared?"

She looked around at the military base, and the setting sun of another day. "This project you volunteered for yesterday with Abraham- Dr. Erskine, I've been working on for nearly three years. This is what I've been doing with the military for so long," she explained. "And seven months ago I was tasked with finding the right subject, the right volunteer, to be the lab rat for it." She stared at him. "I was terrified when I first saw you Steve, because I couldn't- I can't distinguish between just another soldier, another volunteer, from my friend. You have to understand how difficult this procedure is going to be, and what it could possibly do to you."

"You think it's gonna kill me?" he asked, going for the worst. "Any one of us?"

Hermione was unable to look him in eyes. "It could," she admitted. "It'll be the first full trial on a human. It could very well turn you into a puddle, or turn you to ash."

The grounds were silent and she heard Steve swallow. "If those are the risks," Steve said slowly, and Hermione met his eyes again, "I'll still do it." Because of course he would. "And it's not - see, this isn't about me. There are men, women, layin down their lives every single day. I got no right to do anything less."

"And that is when we vill know," Dr. Erskine said, tapping his nose at her with a conspiring smile and pouring her another shot of vodka. "-zhe makings of a truly good man."

She swallowed. She wanted to argue, yell at Steve for coming to such a conclusion, but the familiarity of his conviction settled farther in Hermione's bones than in just the current conversation. It reminded her of Harry; the set of his shoulders and the power in his gaze when he came to a decision. Knowing that even at his worst moment, even when he had the free choice, he would do the right thing for everyone else.

Memories of her oldest friend rushed to the surface of her mind, and Hermione had to turn away quickly to shove the threat of useless tears down her throat.

"Hermione?"

She waved her hand away at his tone, and swallowed down the familiar ache of her loss several times. "It's nothing," she said, gathering her composure in a deep breath and turning back to him. "You've just - you reminded me just now of a dear friend."

Steve's gaze became immediately softer. "From home?"

Her past home. Hogwarts and the renewed Potter mansion. James, Albus, little Lily. Ron's first on the way. She nodded.

He opened his mouth before shutting it again, and his shoulders hung sadly. "I'm sorry."

She smiled slightly at the genuine empathy. "Don't be. Seeing you has just reminded me of everything I have now here in America. At home in New York."

His eyes snapped up to her, and Hermione felt the tingling of brash, school yard bravery sneaking up her back. "Of everything I want there, and don't want to loose."

His gaze switched between her eyes, like he was trying to find something in her expression, and he stepped closer with determination in the press of his lips. "I've -"

Whatever he was going to say was washed away with the sound of the evening tocsin ringing across base, signaling the close of dinner. The echoed peals of the great bell broke whatever charge was hanging in the air between them, and Hermione took a step back. Her courage was gone again. "You should get some dinner before it's gone Private Rogers," she said, forcibly removing herself from the moment and reeling in her thumping heart. She put her arms behind her back to fist her hands together, and she surveyed the empty camp around them as a distraction. Her mouth felt dry. "You have a long rest of the week ahead of you. You should... you should get ready for it."

Steve's mouth still hung open from his past words, and he snapped it closed with a swallow. She watched as he came to some sort of decision with himself and nodded. "Yes ma'am." His eyes held onto hers for another moment before he turned on his heel and made his way to the mess.

Hermione watched his retreating back. She released a shaking breath and followed after him to her cabin for the night.

She needed to find Abraham's bottle of vodka.

June 17th 1943

Hermione confessed to Abraham about Steve the very next day before training began.

They had sat close together in the Officer's Dining Hall over toast and a cup of tea, and he blinked in shock at the coincidence. He knew Hermione's Steve, as he had often found a letter in her hands from him during their trip across the US, or showed him a sketch that he had made in their down time. "Truly? Zhe same man?"

Hermione nodded and Abraham smiled thoughtfully. "You have spoken of him many times, but never had I thought of a face," he said. "But always bravery was mentioned."

She grinned. "More than he has common sense sometimes."

He gave her a small smile, and took a sip of his Earl Gray. "Did I tell you that he tried to enlist five times before I found him?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. "No, he never mentioned."

June 21st 1943

As the days passed, remaining impartial to the recruits became rather difficult, Hermione decided.

Her assignment was to observe and report the physical wellness and attitude of each volunteer throughout training. As she had personally reviewed every recruits file more times than she cared to count, she logically knew who could perform in the best areas provided. Private Hodge, Colonel Phillips favored man, was an easy standout for his ability to follow orders, his glowing recommendation from Washington, and his higher than average physical fitness. He had volunteered for the Army the day after Pearl Harbor, along with many of the other recruits. They were all standard military men. Tall, strong, competent, and followed the chain of command without thought.

Steve on the other hand, Hermione had noticed, was mostly the complete opposite of his fellow recruits. When Hermione watched the other men perform over one hundred push-ups in a single sitting, Steve was struggling with nearly thirty. When asked to clear the ropes course with other recruits, Steve would get caught in the small footing, trip, and dangle dangerously off the structure while the others moved through efficiently around him.

However unlike the others, Steve seemed to use his mind more than he used his body. As Hermione continued to study everyone's progress, she noticed that Steve would strategize before attempting any action. The ten mile run and Flag Test was an appropriate example of this as the others had simply heard an order and moved to execute, while Steve had watched, tried a different approach, and then got to sit in the Jeep with Hermione and Peggy as the rest of the men ran the remainder of the course.

It was hard then for Hermione not to be impartial as an Agent in the Operation, for she could see just how much better Steve would be than the others based solely off his actions and thought process. How much better his potential as a super soldier would be compared to any another volunteer here bulked up and sent on their way like a bull injected with steroids.

Putting the need for impartial emotion aside, Hermione also recognized how much he deserved the chance to be more than what his body forced him to be now.

Hermione didn't put that last bit in her reports as being impartial really was necessary in the Operation's process, but Abraham seemed to be able to read between the lines and he agreed.

The day before the Project Rebirth's trial training came to an end, Hermione and Peggy stood watch over the recruits while they executed another push-up exercise.

Peggy watched each recruit like a hawk, walking up and down the line. "Faster, ladies! Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!"

Hermione heard Colonel Phillips and Abraham walk up together from behind, and she tapped her pencil on her clipboard to get Peggy's attention. As Peggy turned to the sound, Hermione overheard the Colonel and Abraham's conversation. "- throw me a bone. Hodge passed every test we gave him. He's big, he's fast, he obeys orders. He's a soldier."

Hermione grimaced, coming to a conclusion on what they'd been discussing, and kept her eyes forwards.

"He's a bully," Abraham argued flatly, and she nearly grinned.

Peggy got the recruits to their feet in attention as the Colonel and Abraham paused at a supplies truck just behind her.

"You don't win wars with niceness, doctor. You win war with guts," she head the Colonel say, and then the faint ting of metal scraping against something.

She watched as a small object was lodged over her head into the thick of the recruits, and her eyes trained on what looked to be a small metal cylinder come to a stop before Private Hodge. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Grenade!" Colonel Phillips yelled.

The recruits bolted into action, splitting apart into a dozen directions as Hermione reached up into her shirt sleeve for her wand. Her fingers grabbed the edge of its' handle, but her arm was pulled back sharply by someone from behind, forcing her momentum to swing into a 180 rotation. She came face to face with Abraham, and her expression melted from furious to confusion in a split second. "Wha-"

"Get away! Get back!" a familiar voice shouted, and Hermione turned back around with wide eyes.

Steve was curled up into a ball on the dusty ground, his body wrapped around the grenade, eyes slammed shut and brow furrowed; waiting for the inevitable.

Hermione's heart stopped in her chest.

After several careful moments, soldiers started to stand up from their crouch. Peggy, who Hermione had seen jumping towards the explosive like Steve, stood straight and put her hands on her hips.

"It's a dummy grenade," an officer from farther back announced, and people closer to the event started to stand up, dusting themselves off. "All clear. Back in formation."

Steve slowly began to uncurl himself on the ground and sat up. He blinked heavily at the dust and sun on his face, adrenaline and confusion plain over his features. "Is this a test?"

Relief swept over Hermione, hard and breathtaking. She grinned brilliantly at the man.

"He's still skinny," Colonel Phillips said with dour criticism, and she heard his footsteps wander away.

Steve got to his feet and Abraham stood closer at Hermione's side. "Well. It seems we have our soldier."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should feel elation and pride or fearful anxiousness.

Later That Night

Hermione knocked once on Steve's barracks door, before letting herself in.

"Steve?" she called. She made a turn into an open doorway and found a row of empty beds lining a short hall with mattresses folded over in the middle. Steve's bed was the only one left in the room, and the occupant stood from the edge he'd been sitting on as he saw her walk further in.

"Hermione!" he said, "I didn't think I'd get to see you until the procedure tomorrow."

She came to a stop just across from the shorter man and gave him a small smile. "I wanted to congratulate you," she said. "And to apologize for earlier this week."

Steve's smile dimmed and he hesitated with a response. "What for?"

"My apology? Well for the way I went about our conversation. And said it. And walked away from- there's a couple reasons actually."

"Did you-," he swallowed and put his hands behind his back. His silver name tags hung loose from the stark white t shirt he wore and glinted in the setting sun from outside. "Do you regret it?"

Hermione felt the many layers in that question. She bit her lip and took a seat on the edge of mattress opposite him. She gestured for him to follow, and he did. She swallowed. "Did you know that I was at the Stark Expo in New York last week and ran into Bucky?"

The uptick of his eyebrows answered her question.

"Well, I did. I'd just flown in and was wandering around the exhibits when Bucky found me," she decided to leave out the two extra women in that moment. "We got caught up for a while and eventually I asked where you were." Steve studied her. "That led on to a different conversation, and at first, it made me uncomfortable. Not because I didn't like the answers to the questions that I'd been asking, but because I didn't know what to do with them, and I didn't know if I had the courage to act on it."

Steve swallowed. "What kinda answers did you find?"

"The kind that would make impartial judgment calls impossible to deliver," she answered honestly. Steve was silent across from her, his chest barely moving, as if he was afraid to breathe. "And at first I wasn't going to say anything because this-" she waved her hand to the barracks, "-all of this-was just one of the many stops on the road forwards. The goal of this Project was to perfect the modern soldier and move to the front lines. Europe is next, and I didn't want to be another sad goodbye at a train station."

He leaned forwards. "Hermione-"

"Which of course Bucky told me was useless, as a relationship isn't just one person," she hurried on, trying to organize her words so he would understand the lot of it. "Then I realized that a whole other problem was taking place because then you were here and volunteering and the entirety of my work for the past three years could end everything before I even got the chance to-" Hermione shook her head. "To do anything. Make a choice."

Steve was still leaning forwards, and he looked between her eyes. There was still confusion hidden in his depths, but also a breathless excitement, and the smallest glimmer of hope. "And have you? Made that choice?"

Her own chest felt hollow, like she could take flight with the barest of winds and fly away in any direction, but it was the hope in his eyes that let her mouth go on. "I don't know where I stand with... you. Or even how you feel, but I'm scared of how much you mean to me," she said, "and I don't want to loose you." She started to say something more, but stamped down on the need to throw any more of her turbulent emotions at him. She shut her mouth and clenched her jaw.

"Doll-," Steve said, and Hermione's eyes widened at the word. Steve had never called her that before. Bucky yes, but only because he was Bucky and he could get away with murder before anyone called him out on those baby blues, but never Steve. "- Hermione, you've gotta know I've been carrying a torch for you since- well, since our first Dodgers game."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "But that's when we first met!"

Steve shrugged with a small smile. "It wasn't up to me. You were wearing the prettiest blue color hat and jacket I'd ever seen. Standing all by yourself, no one helpin you-"

"-until you."

"-And then you smiled at me," he confessed with far away look, "You smiled at me, and laughed a little, and I just- I don't know, I lost it. Never looked back."

Hermione felt warmth rise up from her collar bones. She hadn't been in a relationship in many many years, but she was certain she'd never felt so dazzled before by someone until now. "Is that, " she paused, "something you really want?"

"Yeah," Steve replied without hesitation, and Hermione's heart just lifted. "And I know that I can't give you anything- I don't have even a dollar to my name- but I'd really like the chance to try."

She nodded along with his words, her insides flying higher and higher. "Alright."

"Yeah?" he asked, and a full blown smile lit his face

"Yes," Hermione answered with a matching expression.

Hermione had unconsciously moved forwards on the edge of the mattress, leaning into Steve's space, when she heard the sharp knock on the barrack door outside. She jumped to her feet just as Steve did in surprise. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw Abraham walking in with two glasses in one hand and- was that his bottle of vodka?

He hovered at the door when he saw the pair of them standing close between the beds. He raised an eyebrow. "May I?"

Hermione moved away quickly. "Yes of course! I'll just-"

"Agent Peggy said that she vas looking for you?"

Hermione nodded, taking the exit that was offered. "I'll find her right away. Thank you Doctor." She turned to Steve, "I'll see you at your procedure tomorrow Private Rogers."

He gave her a small smile and nodded, and Hermione looked to Abraham once more before she walked out of the barracks and closed the door behind her.

A thought came to her and she opened the door back up. Abraham and Steve swiveled to look around, and she pointed a stubborn finger to Abraham. "He has a procedure tomorrow, no fluids," she said looking at the bottle of vodka and then pointed the finger at Steve threateningly. "Don't even think about it. Alright?" Both men nodded blankly in tandem, and Hermione smiled at their confirmation before closing the door behind her again.

She stood here for a moment, frozen in front of Steve's barrack doors, hearing the faint murmuring of the men beyond. She breathed out slowly, thinking over all of tonight's events, before her brain caught up with her actions.

Starting a relationship is bad, a part of herself thought. What happens when you find a way home and have to say goodbye? She mostly dismissed this fear as soon as it came. Her research so far had indicated that nothing would be able to bring her home except for the minuscule chance of getting her hands on the tesseract again. And even that was questionable, because what if it just send her to another dimension again? Worse, what if it just killed her?

And what about your history? the same voice in her consciousness asked viciously. A dimension jumping, time traveling, witch? Would he even think to look at you the same way again if you told him what you were? What you've already done? and Hermione tried to ignore that question as well. When she told him, because she would tell someone she cared for, not if, about who she used to be and where she'd grown up, she was sure that a man like Steve Rogers would be able to understand and move forwards.

Are you though? the voice asked. Would you like to run an arithmetic equation on how sure you are? Or do you fear that as well? The brave Gryffindor who helped defeat Voldemort.

Hermione blinked away the rising anxiety and shoved down her fears, locking them away in a dark section of her mind, before she made her way back to her cabin.

June 22nd 1943

Hermione wasn't able to sleep that night. She reviewed all of her research and equations over and over again, looking for any possible mistakes. She pored over her numbers, made multiple cups of tea, and flicked her wand at the phonograph in the corner of her room to keep the night at bay.

When Abraham came for her in the early morning so they could make it to Brooklyn and start prepping the equipment, Hermione was shuffling all of her papers back into order. He noticed the bags under her eyes and frizziness to her hair with a raised eyebrow. "Have you been awake all night?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Zhe serum has been finished for weeks now, you know this."

She nodded, but continued to pack the remaining items of her possessions away in silence.

He didn't say anything else as she finished and they walked out the door together. They got on a plane with Colonel Phillips and Sergeant Duffy, and Hermione watched as the clouds passed beneath them in a daze. Abraham and Hermione then took separate cars than the officers to the underground facility that doubled as an antique shop in Brooklyn.

After they had arrived, Hermione went to shower and change into her white coat and uniform, liberally applying makeup to the undersides of her eyes before swiping on lipstick. When she walked into the operating room of the facility, Howard and Abraham were waiting for her. Howard took one look at her and immediately held out a cup of coffee he'd been holding near his chest. "Christ Granger, it looks like you haven't slept in a week."

"Language Howard," Hermione admonished, accepting his cup of coffee gratefully, and looking around the room before taking a small sip. "Have you started?"

"Live and ready to go."

Hermione nodded and looked to her mentor. "Where do you want me?"

Abraham adjusted his glasses. "With me of course," he answered.

Hermione smiled and they began their work.

A little after noon, Abraham watched as Hermione recalibrated a machine that a doctor under Stark had dismissed. She flipped a switch, turned a dial, and motioned to Stark from across the room. "Operational!" Howard made a mark on a sheet of paper in front of him, and Hermione turned to Abraham steady gaze. "Did you find an error in my work?" she asked, noting the concentration.

He smiled lightly. "Never klein time traveler. I only wish to watch."

Hermione blinked. "Oh," she said. "Alright." She turned to another machine and examined the dial it held. "Do you think we're ready?"

"The serum is complete," he said, mirroring his words from earlier this morning. "There is nothing more to do."

"Except hope that it works," she said, turning to face him.

"It vill work," he said, and motioned to the machine behind her. "I have had zhe best assistant there is to offer."

Hermione smiled at him. "I wish I had your confidence."

He gave her a shallow frown and raised an eyebrow. "You vill see. Our work will be completed today, and it will stop Hydra."

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze. "Your family would be proud."

He looked at her over the tops of his gold rimmed glasses. "Yes, they would, but I am already proud. Zhe best part of my work was not the serum, no, but working with the best of the future." He lifted a finger and pointed at her brain. "This," he said, and then pointed to her heart, "and this, have been a privilege to teach. My only regret is that we did not meet sooner, under better circumstances."

Hermione smiled warmly at him. "We have plenty of time for the rest of forever," she said, holding the eyes of the man she had come to feel for as a father. "I have enjoyed every moment that I have been able to learn under you," she said, "and look forwards to many years more."

He smiled and placed a curl that had escaped her bun behind her ear. "Come klein time traveler, let us help your soldier."

Hermione immediately spluttered. "He's not my- we're not-"

"The walls of the barracks are not thick," he said, looking over at her from the tops of his glasses again. "And even if you two aren't now, you will be." He smiled. "He is a good man."

Hermione felt heat flood her face at the thought of Abraham hearing Steve and her's conversation, but nodded in agreement. "He is."

Later that day

Hermione watched as Steve laid down into the shuttle looking pod that Stark had designed and programmed. He wore no shirt, and Hermione could see goosebumps rise to the top of his skin as he settled himself against the padded framework. He swallowed down his nerves, and Hermione and Abraham walked forwards to stand on either side of the pod.

"Comfortable?" Abraham asked first, as Steve rotated his shoulders.

Steve smiled and looked down at the pod. "It's a little big," he joked lightly, but Hermione had to agree. The pod was meant for a man nearly a foot taller that Steve, and it dwarfed his already small appearance.

Abraham laughed lightly, running his eyes over the machinery, diligently looking for anything wrong again. Hermione followed after him, but found herself staring at the man she'd committed to trying a relationship out with yesterday.

Steve didn't look to her as he asked Abraham, "Save me any of that vodka?"

Abraham looked mildly regretful. "Not as much as I should have. Sorry. Next time," he met Hermione's eyes over Steve and smiled again. "Ja?"

Steve looked to Hermione for the first time, and she gave them both a warm smile. "I think we can all spare the time for a drink after this, don't worry." She watched him attempt a grin and then it fall flat. Hermione searched his eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Determination shot through him, thick and strong. "You know I do."

"I wouldn't think less of you."

One side of his mouth tugged up, looking a little sour. "I would."

She blinked and looked away, motioning to the side with a small nod of her head. "I'll only be a few feet away the whole time. You won't be alone."

Something loosened in Steve's posture and Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. Behind them, the photographer that was hired by Stark snapped a shot, nearly blinding Hermione's peripherals with its' bright light. She geared herself to turn around and bite the man's head off, but Abraham was faster and gave the man a look that might have even frightened the Colonel.

He watched the photographer retreat and then called out to the rest of the room, "Mr. Stark, how are your levels?"

"Dandy Doctor. Levels at 100 percent," Howard answered walking up from a team of scientists in the corner. He stopped besides Steve's bed and took in the image of the smaller soldier in the pod. "We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready as we'll ever be." He glanced up at Hermione. "You okay doll?"

"Dandy Howard, thank you," Hermione answered, struggling not to roll her eyes in front of the senator and his team in the viewing box. He just grinned and moved back to his station among the equipment.

Steve looked to her with wide eyes, clearly trying to not ask a question that he knew he didn't need to know, but Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's a friend. The pushy type in most cases, just relax."

Before Steve could answer, Abraham was standing in front of the viewing box with a microphone in his hands. "Ladies and gentlemen, today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path to peace. We begin with a series of micro injections into zhe subjects major muscle groups." Hermione and another nurse dressed in white opened the container holding the serum, and withdrew the many blue vials that fit snugly into the pod. "The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. And then to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with Vita-Rays," he said.

The nurse took a needle from the side and injected Steve at the top of his arm. He breathed out slowly as she withdrew the metal and walked away. He cleared his throat, "That wasn't so bad."

Tension was thick in the room, and Hermione nearly laughed.

Abraham didn't, and said flatly, "That was penicillin." Steve gave him a look and Abraham almost shrugged back as if he was saying, 'eh, what can you do?' before he looked to the scientists around the room manning the equipment. He met Hermione's eyes, and gave her a shallow nod.

Hermione swallowed and held her head up high. "Serum infusion," she called out to the surrounding scientists, "beginning in: Five. Four." The arm guard threaded with needles came down on Steve's skin. Hermione hid her wince. "Three, Two," she put a hand on Steve's shoulder as Abraham did the same on the other side. This would not be fun. "One."

A switch was flipped and the blue colored serum vials emptied themselves into Steve's body. Steve clenched his teeth, and opened his eyes to the ceiling, clearly holding back the urge to scream.

Hermione grimaced and nodded back to Abraham.

The older scientist looked over his shoulder. "Now Mr. Stark," Abraham commanded, and Hermione heard an additional switch flip.

She removed her hands away from Steve as the pod began to rise and turn perpendicular to the floor, the green tint of the metal flashing against the florescent lighting. The lids of the pod began to close in around Steve and Hermione took several steps back to watch as he was enveloped beneath the metal. Scientists attached an electrical looking tube to the top of the pod that Hermione recognized as the electrical current for the Vita-Rays. Half way through, she told herself.

Abraham knocked on the front of the pod and called Steve's name. "Can you hear me?" he asked. Hermione was too far away to hear what was said back, but when Abraham had turned around, he had a grin on his face. "We will proceed," he announced and looked towards Howard.

Howard took his verbal que and began to turn a dial on the machine in front of him. A low rumbling echoed through the chamber and Hermione lifted a pair of Vita-glasses to over her eyes, giving one to Abraham as well. Howard moved to another separate machine and began to turn a metal wheel clockwise slowly. "That's 10 percent," he called out, and the room was filled with a bright white light from the pod.

Hermione bit her lip and watched the glow of light in the chamber continue to increase.

"20 percent," Howard called, continuing his slow climb. "Thirty. Forty."

"Vital signs are normal," another scientist called out.

"That's 50 percent," Howard said, watching the levels increase even further. "Sixty. Seventy."

At almost 80 percent, Steve started screaming.

Hermione's eyes widened and she flew forwards at the sound. "Shut it down!" she called, panic gripping her heart and turning her insides to ice.

"Steven!" Abraham rushed to the pod and pounded on the metal door as the white light got brighter and brighter. "Steven!"

"Shut it down!" Hermione called again, and this time was echoed by Peggy coming out of the viewing room. "Now! Shut it down!"

Dr. Erskine flipped around from the pod and pointed to Howard. "Kill the reactor Mr. Stark!" he said racing forwards. "Turn it off. Kill it! Kill the reactor!"

Howard moved farther down to another machine and Hermione felt her panic rise through Steve's screams. "Howard!"

"I'm on it! I-" Howard said lifting his hands to a large switch.

"NO!" screamed a voice from inside the pod, Steve, and Hermione's heart nearly stopped in her chest again. "DON'T!" he screamed and the iridescence of the Vita-Rays from his pod layered the room in a shining milky light, "I CAN DO THIS."

Panic flooded Hermione's mind, and she gaped at the light where Steve was hidden. She felt frozen at his words.

Howard apparently had no such dispositions, and moved back to the metal wheel. He put his hands down on his machinery and immediately continued moving.

Hermione remained like stone as the light continued to climb higher and higher throughout the room. She didn't dare move forwards now, or she didn't know what she'd do. Bombard the metal shielding that held Steve, or tackle Howard to he ground. "Merlin please," she said without breath or thought.

"80. 90," Howard called, and then- "That's 100 percent!" The electricity of the pod began to hum loudly.

For a moment or two, nothing longer than that, the bright light held.

Then, Hermione saw electric sparks flash from the equipment around the room, jutting off frantically like fireworks in an evening sky, before everything fell silent, and the equipment died. Suffocating silence filled the area, and smoke slid off the green tint of the pod. Vita glasses slid off of faces, and people in the viewing room stood up in anticipation.

Hermione discarded her own glasses. "Howard!" she called, and then immediately, the doors disengaged.

The room seemed to hold it's breath as the green lids of metal sprang apart and florescent lighting reflected off the subject inside.

Hermione's mouth dropped open.

Instead of the goo or ash that Hermione had feared would be left of such an extreme treatment, stood instead, something completely else. An enormously tall, heavily muscled, sweat layered man leaned laboriously against the padded framework inside. A chiseled jaw was tipped forwards into the air, gasping at oxygen into a barrel wide chest that flexed with protruding muscles. Where thin pale arms had once been, stood instead fully defined brawny limbs, laying thick next to the expanse of his ribs. Her eyes widened, all common sense abandoning her and leaving her stupid, completely unable to process the data that was flaunting itself an arm length away.

Gone was the skinny, sickly, five foot four man, and instead stood a behemoth of a soldier, heavy with planes of layered muscles and sharp angles. Gone was Steve.

Abraham was the first to recover from the paralyzing shock. He surged forwards as the opening doors settled into place, and he put his arm around the man to help him step out of the pod. Howard was on his other side, hands pressed against the swell of his abs, as Steve took stumbling steps forwards. "I- I did it," he breathed out hard.

"Ja... Ja," Abraham tipped his head at Hermione and smiled with blinding satisfaction and joy. "We did it."

Hermione stepped closer. She watched as Steve's eyes rolled at his slow steps forwards, but then finding equilibrium in the next moment. He held on to the men at his sides with obvious strength and fully operational gross motor functions. "We did it," she whispered. Her mind felt high above the clouds. Wonder, awe, pride, and an overwhelming flush of relief washed over her.

"You actually did it," Howard echoed with wide eyes and a loose jaw, jumping between the two.

Steve steadied himself on both feet, and the scientists at his sides released him with cautious, hovering hands. He rolled his shoulders back and stretched up to his impressively full height, taking a deep breath in. On the release out, his eyes opened and they swept the room. It was penetrating and searching.

Hermione mentally cataloged his reactions. Heightened cellular regeneration, she reminded herself. In all areas, including his eyes. Strengthened eyesight, that was clearly affirmative as she watched him study the machinery around the room that would have originally been too far away for him to focus on. And if the cone sensitivity in his eyes have been strengthened as well, perhaps a cure for color blindness? She'd have to ask.

Hermione let him take in his surroundings a moment longer. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Steve turned his gaze down to her, as she was now nearly a foot shorter than he. He searched her eyes, the planes of her face, and around the curves of her jaw, taking her all in. The intensity was jarring. "Taller," he answered completely serious.

A corner of her mouth lifted. The physical body of who she familiarized with Steve might be gone, but mentally- "Well, you look taller."

Peggy came to her side and offered Steve a white t-shirt. "Put this on, before you take someone's eye out," she said, clearly eyeing the mass of muscle he now was made up of.

Steve smiled back shyly and scratched the back of his head. It gave everyone an eyeful of his abs, all the muscles leading down, and the swell of his bicep. Hermione was sure she heard the other nurse from earlier squeak. Steve immediately lowered his arm and accepted the shirt from Peggy. Without meeting Hermione or Peggy's eyes, he turned around to slip on the white cotton.

Unfortunately, that also meant that it gave an ample opportunity to stare of the planes of his back. Peggy's eyes look in the view and then traveled farther down. Her eyebrows raised. "Well," she said.

Hermione immediately twisted around. She could feel the heat of her own attraction rising from some neanderthal section of her ovaries and she hurriedly stamped it down. Not even two minutes out of his procedure Granger, she berated herself. You are absolutely not here to ogle! Merlin, and you call yourself an adult.

Fortunately, because Hermione had turned around, she watched as Abraham finished shaking the hand of a member from Senator Brandt's party and he met her eyes. He motioned her forwards. She came to his side just as Senator Brant himself and Colonel Phillips came to speak. "Congratulations Doctor!" Senator Brandt said with a confident, curling smile that won polls and votes. His eyes stopped on her. "And you are Miss-?"

"Granger. Hermione Granger," she answered, shaking his hand after Abraham.

"My Head of Assistants," Abraham introduced with a smile. "Without who, none of any of zhis-" he motioned to the room at large, "-would have been possible."

Senator Brandt looked mildly amused. "Well then, a hearty congratulations to the both of you. Your work here-"

For some reason, Hermione thought she heard the sound of a small metallic 'clink'. It echoed in her ears for an impossibly long moment, and she felt her eyes sweep over to a gangly suited man an arms length away, holding of all things, a silver lighter. There was no panic, only bewilderment. Of all the things? There wasn't time to wonder why the stranger was holding a fire hazard in the middle of a laboratory, as with Hermione's next blink, there was a tremendous CRASH above her head. Then a blast of dragon fired heat swept over her body from crown to toes. A unbending force like a giant's swatting hand drove her to her knees, and her legs slid from under her. Her head slammed against the linoleum floor. Then, dazed, she felt glass shards raining down from above.

The explosion echoed in her ears. Someone screamed. The panic lasted only a moment before a solitary white lab coat rose from his kneeled position beside her. "Someone stop him!" he yelled, pointing forwards. Hermione looked up at the figure blankly, her sight spotting at the edges. Abraham?

She blinked several times, and focused her eyes to the present, demanding concentration. Abraham took a step forwards. A shot rang out. She watched Abraham jerk, and his foot came back down. Another shot.

Somebody screamed.

Abraham's knees buckled, and he fell to the floor like a limp rag doll.

Clarity swept through her mind. Her eyes widened. Hermione echoed the terrible scream. "NO!"

Another shot above her head echoed in the metal chamber.

She didn't keep track of the stranger or the noise. She grabbed the body of her chosen father at the side of his lab jacket and pulled with all of her strength. His hand flopped uselessly onto the top of her arm. She drove her momentum back and pulled him onto his back.

"Abraham!" Her eyes flicked down over his body, and she stopped at the two soaking blood marks spreading from over his heart.

Death, a part of her ever moving mind supplied, diagnosing the outcome.

She climbed closer to Abraham and held his face in her hands. His eyes settled on her, remarkably lucid, and he breathed out shallowly. "Hermione. Schatz."

"I'm going to fix this, it's going to be okay," Hermione whispered, reaching into her lab coat for her wand. An Episki and a Vulnera Sanentur would stable him. Or prolong an already painful death, her same inner voice said flatly. The hearts muscle and tissue will not be so easily fixed. They haven't the equipment for open heart surgery. Use your mind. You know this.

Her breath quickened as she came to the outside of her lab jacket.

Abraham's eyes followed her movement and he lifted a slow, trembling hand. He settled it onto the top of her arm, freezing her action. He reached up to the top of her wrist. His fingers curled like he'd hold her limb there against him.

She saw the determination in his face, and Hermione blinked away rising tears. "Abraham. Let me fix this."

His eyes crinkled at the edges, and the gold of his wired glasses gleamed. His fingers tightened around her hand, and he shook his head minutely.

Shots rang out again from down the outside hall, but all Hermione could hear was Abraham's shallow, slowing, breathing.

Steve came to a crouch beside Hermione, and Abraham's eyes turned to the new face. He lifted the hand that wasn't holding Hermione's down, and pointed a shaking finger to Steve's chest. Right over his heart.

She didn't know what it meant, but Steve looked at the poking finger on his chest and then back at Abraham with wide eyes.

Abraham gave him the smallest of nods, as if he still had the energy to speak. His eyes lowered and his head tilted, the remaining moments of his strength leaving him. He smiled one, lopsided grin once more to Hermione in his last moment, and then he died.

German Translation:
Schatz- Treasure (A common German endearment for those of familial bonds)