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December 27th, 1944 - Somewhere in Belgium
Hermione and Bucky kept their eyes peeled for snipers or remaining Hydra forces as Daniel drove them through the abandoned streets of the warring town. After the noise of echoing gunfire had disappeared into the cutting winter wind, Daniel glanced back at Hermione and passed them both a K-ration from his pack. "You both look like hell. You a little more so, doll. Eat something."
Bucky blinked, mechanically accepting the food, and furrowed his brows when he turned to Hermione. He looked her up and down, jaw hardening. "Steve's gonna fucking kill me."
Exhaustion slid down her back and Hermione slumped farther into her seat, wanting to disappear under the scrutinizing gaze of her friend.
Daniel frowned from the front seat. "Language, Lieutenant."
Bucky waved him off, shaking his head and glancing at Hermione in hurried glimpses, confusion, and guilt slipping through his expression.
She didn't have the will to argue. After the adrenaline of the explosion receded, Hermione's body began to make her aware of every hurt she hadn't escaped. Breathing was like inhaling fire, and Hermione suspected that at the very minimum, she had at least two cracked ribs. Her hair also smelled slightly burned, and she was bleeding in several places. Overall, Hermione felt cold, beaten to her bones, and both mentally and physically exhausted.
Bucky, on the other hand, seemed well off despite being thrown out of the same building as her, and Hermione didn't think it was just because of higher pain tolerance. He didn't share the many scrapes and scratches that Hermione had sustained from the projected rubble during their fall. While she generally looked like something had chewed her up and tossed her out, Bucky remained curiously free of any noticeable wounds. Like luck itself had passed over him during the explosion, and left him injury-free.
If Hermione had any doubts about his enchanted dog tags working before, she certainly didn't now. He had basically walked away from a tank explosion. Hermione wanted to partly cheer at her own brilliance and success, while also cursing herself for not making another for her own health.
It would have to be added to her mental list.
After one had been made for Steve and Peggy of course, but she would have to start the process soon. The potion procedure had taken about three months for Bucky's dog tags, and Hermione didn't have the time to additionally figure out a shorter enchantment.
Her stomach rumbled, and Bucky split the canned chicken pâté, fighting biscuits, and the small bar of chocolate from the squished cardboard box with her. She shoveled down what she could manage and left Bucky the pack of 4 cigarettes, but stole back the strips of chewing gum to help take her mind off the pain throughout her limbs.
Unease sat heavy in her heart as evening encroached on Steve's appointed rendezvous, a few miles out from town. Fading stretches of sunlight lit the sky in deep reds and purples as Daniel parked and hid the Jeep while radioing into his commander about his new situation. Bucky set up their small camp and Hermione silently cast several protective enchantments so that only her boys would find them amongst the wilds.
"You still got the target?" Bucky asked, settling down next to her sometime later as they sat together, waiting for their friends to come back.
Hermione touched her coat pocket and nodded when she felt the edges of the small metal box, relief coursing through her. "Whatever Johann wanted to remain hidden- we've got it."
"It was worth it then, that son of a bitch," he sighed. Bucky flopped onto his back, eyes to the stars, and Hermione tipped her head back with him. He glanced across to her. "You look like you're doing better."
She fought the urge to shrug. "Thanks."
Hermione certainly felt better. She'd whispered healing enchantments under her breath and had fixed most of the major damage within her as they all sat in the darkness waiting for their friends to return (it had been two broken ribs, not cracked), but was careful to leave the visible injuries on her face and hands to avoid any suspicion from Daniel.
Bucky tucked his hands under his head, and Hermione flicked a warming charm over him as he stretched out on the freezing pine-needled ground. His eyes flicked to hers for a slight nod of thanks, before settling back. "So, then. You wanna talk about Howard?"
Irritation filled her as swiftly as her peace left, and her head snapped to his face. "Merlin, did Steve tell you about that? The Beastly twins?" she shook her own head, uncaring for his answer, as the suppressed uncertainty and unease from earlier filled her chest. "I don't know what Howard was on about, but he's not -" Hermione choked on her own denial and swallowed. "I mean- He can't. He isn't. It doesn't make sense."
Bucky snorted, and the steam of his breath escaped over his patronizing grin. "Oh yeah, sure," he said. "Two of the smartest people in the world, working closely together, all of the time, to save humanity. High pressure. Long hours. In the middle of nowhere most nights. You're right. Can't figure that one out either. Wild."
Hermione kicked him with the edge of her boot. "Oh shut it, you great brute. You know what I meant."
He turned his head to her, shadowed eyes colder than the night around them. "I think you know as well as I do that Howard's been in love with you for a long time. Maybe even as long as Steve. Anyone with eyes can see it."
The drowning feeling in her chest became heavier as guilt mixed within.
Hermione bit her lip and turned away. She didn't want to think about it, but she had a feeling that he was right. Howard was her close friend, and she knew nearly everything there was to know about him. What he liked to eat, what color pen he preferred, what his sleeping habits were… She also knew that Howard didn't take women home anymore. Even when he had the chance back on a base filled with nurses, he'd been curiously free of a nighttime companion for - well, Hermione hadn't been keeping track. It had been some time.
"And what am I supposed to do about it?" Hermione whispered back. She shook her head. "I don't-"
I don't love him was such an easy answer, but it wasn't entirely right. She did love Howard, her friend, coworker, and genius. If she was brutally honest with herself, she could easily envision a future where they became something more. Where they would grow Howard's company, taking her future knowledge and his inherent genius, and then spend the rest of their days learning together, creating things, lavishing in a comfort most dreamed of, and indulging in the power that only money could buy afterward. She would be content with their shared love of clever accomplishment, but her heart would forever hunger for what it had already so sweetly tasted. Howard, she understood in her soul, would never be able to fill that need that Steve so easily returned.
"Who do you love more?" he asked, looking between her eyes like he could read her mind.
"Steve," Hermione immediately answered. Always Steve.
Steve, whose fragile artist hands had become tempered into weapons so that he could defend a standard of human rights for strangers that he would never meet. Whose steady, unsung integrity had seeped, unchecked, into Hermione's very own soul, and pushed her to think beyond the easy answer in every equation she faced. Whose hands and heart held hers like she was the most precious thing in the universe.
Hermione recognized that when she truly fell in love, she was not the most important person in the world anymore. Her problems, her desires, her happiness. It all focused on Steve now. To be of any help for him. Whatever his goals were: his needs, his wants. She felt for them before her own and the joy, she felt, was ever sweeter when he did the same in return for her.
It would always be Steve, for so many reasons, said and unsaid still between them.
Bucky smiled. "That's gotta be the best thing I've heard on this continent."
She laughed. Her own heart fell when she thought back to Howard. "It's true. It'll always be him, with everything I have," she admitted quietly. "With Howard, I just… I don't know how to-"
"You tell him straight on, doll. A fella's gotta know there's no chance," he answered easily, reading her mind again. "He needs to hear it from you before either of you gets hurt."
Hermione sighed, looking back to the cold stars for further help. "You're right, of course."
Bucky shifted on the ground next to her. "And doll?"
Hermione shifted her head so that she was staring back at the sharpshooter with her full attention. "Bucky."
"Do it soon, okay? Set the record straight with Howard, and get it through Steve's thick head that you're with him till the end of the line."
Hermione studied his face, taking in the serious attention behind his eyes. Why the rush? "Of course, I'll talk to both of them when we're back."
Bucky rotated his jaw like he was going to say something more, before he nodded and flopped back onto the ground, eyes towards the stars.
Hermione pressed forwards. "Was there anything else you wanted to say?"
Bucky released a huffed laugh and then shook his head. "I just don't want you both to be too damn stubborn or stupid to miss your shot."
Hermione snorted, quite unladylike, and fell back against the ground at his side as well. Miss your shot, she repeated back to herself. At what? Happiness? Love? Hermione was already there wasn't she? Weren't they?
"You're the marksman, Barnes. Shouldn't I be telling you that?"
"Yeah, but you're like a sister to me," he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Hermione nearly forgot how to breathe in the next moment. He'd never been so bold about their relationship before, and it half surprised, half warmed her to the core. She smiled as he continued on. "So if I was to take a shot for you," he said, "it would be to make sure that whoever's at the end of my scope doesn't get back up."
Hermione nearly laughed. "I hope you don't mean Howard."
Bucky grinned. "Now doll, don't go giving me ideas."
Daniel, Bucky, and Hermione rode out early the next morning, tense from the frigid temperature and the empty night. There had been no sign of the missing Commandos.
Daniel's radioed conversation with his commander led to an order for him to stick with Bucky and Hermione until they got back to base. They were a big deal apparently. It annoyed Hermione as they sat back in the Jeep and started driving again. If it were just her and Bucky, she could have apparated them back to the airbase in a split second instead of the several-hour drive ahead of them.
By the time they'd made it to the airbase, it was nearly noon. No radio contact had changed the news of the missing Commandos, and Hermione's skin itched to travel back to town and search for them all herself. Worsening scenarios flashed in her mind the longer they were away. Were they okay? Been crushed underneath the rubble? Did they too come face to face with the Uber tank? Had someone died?
Hermione and Bucky said their goodbyes to Daniel as they got on a plane back to the SSR base, and Hermione passed him her contact information for after the War. He'd accepted it with a raised eyebrow but shook both Bucky and her hand in a solid understanding before leaving. She hoped to see him again.
The long flight back to the SSR base was stressful. Bucky was silent most of the way, and Hermione passed the time by working on occlumency exercises to bypass her growing anxiety. When their plane finally landed back down, it was still dark in the early morning and both Hermione and Bucky's nerves were shot at the lack of communication from base. However, her mental shields had never been made stronger.
"We should get you to a medic," Bucky said gruffly, yawning.
Hermione shrugged off his worry. "I feel fine."
"You don't look fine."
She lifted a tired brow. "You saying I look bad, Barnes?"
He scoffed and looked away. "Do I want to die today? No ma'am. But... you should get that cut on your head looked at, at the very least."
Hermione frowned, she'd been so worried over Steve and the Commandos, she had forgotten in the solidarity of herself that Bucky, she could now heal herself without giving any watching outsider suspicion. She should heal her scraps and bruises. A yawn escaped her, and Hermione decided she'd deal with it after a few hours of sleep. First, she had some Commandos to find.
"A bath would do you both a bit of good," Peggy announced herself from the shadows of the opened plane hanger, walking forwards in a thick woolen pressed suit, red lips, and perfect curls.
Hermione and Bucky exchanged a quick smile before Hermione launched herself forwards. Hermione and Peggy embraced, and Peggy frowned lightly as they parted and she got a good look at Hermione's disheveled mess. "He's right, you should get yourself cleared with medical before anything else," she stated.
Hermione dismissed the idea. "Have you any news?"
"Of your missing teammates?" Peggy gestured for the both of them to follow her. "Yes, actually. You'll be happy to see this."
She led them around to a line of prepared canvas tents. As Hermione took in the sleeping arrangements meant for herself and the Commandos, she noticed that most of the tents already had personal effects placed amongst the spaces. Howlett's famous extra smelly pair of socks sat outside the opening of one tent, Happy Sam's beard kit was visible on the bed inside another, and as Hermione's breath caught in her throat, she saw a very familiar brown leather jacket rolled up next to a beaten and dirt-encrusted pack. Steve's pack.
"Are they already- ?" Hermione asked, head swinging around to her friend.
"They arrived about four hours ahead of you," Peggy confirmed with a nod and a smile. "Private Jones … Well, from what I've heard, Gabe sweet-talked a plane ride from the crew of passing transport somehow."
Gracious, of course, he had. The man was a walking flirt, and everyone's most dearest friend when he chose so.
Bucky snorted and then exhaled a long breath, full of released tension and relief. "Well thank God for that. At least one thing went right."
Barring the explosion, the injuries, and the impromptu meeting with one of America's finest, Hermione didn't think it had all gone that bad honestly. Relief flushed through her, bright and warm. They had lived after all, and others she had met during this war couldn't say the same thing.
Peggy frowned and turned to Hermione. "Was the objective lost to us then? Steve reported that the last he saw of you both was while you were still searching for the schematics."
"No, it's been secured." Hermione patted the pocket over her heart, and Peggy's eyes dropped to the motion with a small nod. "Bucky and I found it before the building was shot down."
Her friend's brown eyes turned warm under the glow of the early morning lanterns. "I heard what happened. I'm glad you're alright." She glanced between them. "The both of you, it's not something one usually walks away from."
No, no it was not.
"It was the dog tags," Bucky confessed, quietly.
"Along with a bit of my magic," Hermione added in, smiling for Bucky's guilty conscience, "but it's left us none the worse for wear."
"Me more so than her," Bucky stated, "And I'll keep saying it until it happens, she needs medical."
"Right. We can debrief as you're getting patched up," Peggy agreed before Hermione could say much back.
Bucky held the outsides of her arms gently, pushing her forwards as Peggy turned and led them through the camp. "We've also got a soldier who had eyes on us at a bad time. US, 28th Infantry, Lieutenant Daniel Sousa. He'll be needing a follow-up," Bucky reported.
"I liked him," Hermione added.
Peggy stopped their march forwards for a moment, peering at Hermione over her shoulder before giving her a small nod. The soldier had seen something he shouldn't have, but Hermione thought he should be brought into the circle instead of buried somewhere because of it. Peggy would make sure it would happen.
By the time Hermione had been sat down and reviewed by a doctor, the sun had risen. Bucky remained at her side, warm smiles for her while her head was wrapped and cold eyes for anyone else in the tent that looked at her too long. It made her smile as Hermione reported everything she could remember of their events to Peggy, including that they hadn't had time to look at the schematics yet.
By the time they could smell the beginnings of breakfast wafting through the tent's canvas flaps, Hermione was cleared to leave and Peggy had finished her debrief. "Eat something, then meet at the large tent in the back," Peggy ordered them both. "Colonel Phillips will want to be there to unveil whatever you managed to take."
Bucky gave her a sloppy salute, Hermione nodded, and they filed out of Medical into the smell of actual bacon and ham cooking somewhere close on a pan. "It's a Christmas miracle," Bucky smiled wolfishly, head cocked and eyes scanning the crowd of soldiers beginning their day. He snagged a piece of bacon from a passing plate and split it with her. Then they began their search.
They eventually found Steve and Co sitting around a fire on the opposite side of camp, quietly talking amongst themselves and eating breakfast. Hermione's eyes swept across the downturned heads, committing them to memory as intense happiness unfurling in her chest. All three of the enhanced soldiers among them looked upwards when they approached, but Steve was the first on his feet.
He was a flash through the cold air, and then a pillar of strong warmth when he tugged her towards his chest and into his arms. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck, pressing her face into his, and Hermione let her eyes close. Her breath escaped her, and a violent torrent of relief flushed through her body.
He was alive. He was fine. They were all okay.
Merlin above, they were okay.
Her shaky hands found the planes of his face, curving his cheekbones and tracing the edge of his jaw as he held her against him, his breathing heavy in her ear. The sound of the Commandos welcoming Bucky and her back rung from the corner of her mind, but she could only focus on the soldier between her palms. She leaned backward so she could see the cornflower in his eyes, and see the state of his health with her own hands.
He was alive. Breathing, healthy, strong. Despite everything, she had found where she never wanted to be parted from ever again, and that was from his side. His lips tipped upwards as her fingers spread to hold his face. His shoulders relaxed. His deep breath echoed in her own chest.
Hermione thought she'd melt right there at the tender attention in his gaze, searing her from the inside. He looked at her as if sunshine was liquid and Hermione wore it in the strings of her curls, and the highlights of her face. Like she was the world he had came back to fight for, soldier that he was.
"You're late, Captain," she quoted Peggy from a previous mission, what now seemed ages ago. "Again, at that too."
His mouth twitched. "Sorry, Ma'am."
She struggled to keep a smile from her face. "Communication issues?"
"Transport this time actually." His lips pulled into a smile, and she could no longer deny him hers as well. "I'm glad you're okay," he continued on, arms tightening ever so softly around her. "We saw the building come down, and we couldn't stay to search for long with Hydra there."
She felt his worry, and relief through his eyes. "We had to detour and went to the rendezvous afterward. When you didn't show the next morning, we moved on."
Steve opened his mouth to say something back but was quickly interrupted.
"You gonna let her down Cap? Hoggin' a girl to yourself like that is bad manners you know," Gabe announced from their side.
Hermione blinked in surprise, their own little bubble of happiness broken, and a flush crawled up her neck. When Steve had lifted her into his arms, he had picked her up from her thighs to his torso so that Hermione had to look down at him from her perch on his arms. His hands were on the wool of her service skirt, but the cold morning wind was icy against her nylons, and she was sure she must look ridiculous dangling from him as she was.
Her cheeks warmed, and she swatted at the soldier's chest. "Put me back on my feet, Merlin Steve, look at the pair of us."
His brows lifted like he hadn't been aware of their situation either, and glanced at the Commandos to their left. Every man on his team was looking on in amusement.
Hermione tapped his shoulder to escalate her release, but when Steve turned to look back at her, his face turned to a smirk, filled with mischief.
A wave of caution overcame her. She knew that look. Knew it from her Brooklyn adventures with Steve and Bucky, but had never seen it plastered across Steve's face before.
"Steve," she warned lowly. "Don't you da-" But it was too late.
Steve swung her around. Her back dipped, her legs were swung up, and Steve suddenly held her close to his chest bridal-style with a sly smile. "'Scuse me, men. Miss Granger and I were in the middle of somethin, and it sure would be a waste to let her go now."
Despite herself, a smile stretched across her face and a laugh bubbled up her throat as she rolled her eyes. "Oh for Merlin's-"
Guffaws of laughter exploded from the team. One or two wolf-whistled, and some passing soldiers gave them curious glances. Her blush deepened.
"Oh la la, le Captain- !"
Steve hooked his gaze back to her. "If that's still alright with the Lady of course." He swallowed, looking slightly nervous, and Hermione bit back a laugh.
It had been some of Bucky's teachings no doubt, but they were wasted on Steve's baby blues.
Hermione however, had grown up with the Weasley twins and knew how to craft a joke. Peggy had taught her how to execute it. Something Hermione was only too happy to show to him if he was going to start this in front of their friends.
She lifted her arms over Steve's broad shoulders and tipped her head to the side. Escaped curls fell softly over the side of her exposed neck, and she tipped her face up close to his. She gently brushed her nose against the length of his and their breaths collided. Steve shivered under her arms, and the heat between them chased away the snowy morning.
She grinned.
Leaning back and head turning to the men that filled Steve's team, she gave them all an outlandishly wicked Gryffindor smile, stretched wide across her face. "Haven't a problem at all," she said conversationally as jaws dropped and eyes widened like saucer plates. She tipped her chin down, just so, and looked up from beneath her eyelashes. "Gentlemen, enjoy the rest of your breakfast." She turned to Steve. "Now Capt-"
But Steve was already marching away from his team, and Hermione was choked on her surprise for a moment before she let out a stream of giggling laughs. More laughter erupted from the Commandos behind them, and the wolf whistles picked back up.
"That's trouble you've got there Captain!" Jim yelled, and another round of laughs started.
"Don't forget debrief, you crazy kids-" Bucky yelled after them too, "-in thirty! And make sure she eats something, Stevie!"
Hermione giggled helplessly in Steve's arms as the laughter and jeers of his teammates began to fade. They were heading back towards the rows of pup tents that Peggy had shown Hermione previously, and Steve didn't put back down on her feet until they were standing out in front of Steve's officer's tent.
It was bigger than the rest of the Commandos, and therefore had most of the traveling equipment and extra supplies piled in the front area. When Hermione's feet touched back down, she sidestepped a pile of K-rations on the floor.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, looking up. He hadn't said a word the whole way there, but the blush at the tops of his ears hadn't gone down either.
He couldn't possibly be angry, could he? She dismissed the thought as soon as it had come. No, he'd started the teasing, and it hadn't become spiteful - perhaps he was embarrassed?
She paused. Well, she had gone a little off the deep end, and that was not what most respectable working women did in this-
Her thoughts were cut off when Steve's hand reached for the back of Hermione's head, cupped the neck beneath her failing bun, and pulled her up to his mouth. She had a brief moment of surprise before a searing kiss was laid across her lips, and the hair at the base of her skull was pulled back and fisted in his grasp.
Hermione gasped, and shivers ran down her sides,
Steve took her opening as an invitation and swallowed her sounds with a forceful push of his tongue in her mouth. He licked upwards into her, tasting and taking, forceful in his savoring embrace, and heat radiated down her chest.
"So happy you're okay," he said, tipping her face backward with the hand buried in her hair and breaking their kiss. "I thought I watched you die."
The pain in his gaze outshone the fire slowly heating her blood. She kissed his forehead, the side of his nose, and held his face. "Never. You won't ever lose me," she whispered softly, a promise.
She meant it, from the deepest part of her heart. She would never be parted from him in that way, not if she had the power to stop it. Which she did, in this world and in this time. She would do anything, anything to keep this. Steve, her future, together. He was all she had despite the friends she had made along the way. He was everything, present, and future for her now and nothing in this damned world would take it from her. Not again.
Hermione closed whatever distance remained between them. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to her and she met no resistance.
His hand found the underside of her service jacket and pushed underneath to the cotton shirt below. She could feel the heat of his skin over her clothes, warming her over her layers, and it kick-started her heart. He lit a familiar flame in her bones, and she had to get closer, get more.
"What do you want?" he asked her, lips at her ear as he trailed down her neck and dug his fingers into her sides.
"You," she answered breathlessly, honestly. "Just you - forever."
That stopped him. He froze halfway back up her neck, and his hands landed tenderly on her hips. Holding her close, but far away enough to make her miss his heat. She froze as well, confusion filling her. Why had he stopped? Again.
He pulled his head back and held her close to his chest. She craned her neck up to meet his gaze and was surprised at the wonder reflecting back at her. "That's a hell of a thing to say, Hermione," he swallowed.
She frowned. Had she not made her intentions clear? Did he need something written out? Another part of her wondered if there was some sort of miscommunication between them at the moment. She decided honestly was always the best policy with him. "I don't know what you mean. Why did you pull away?"
"Oh, doll," Steve said, and pulled her up against him, chest to chest. Hermione let her arms dangle over his shoulders, lightly brushing the back of his hair. He smiled. "I didn't mean to pull away, I only wanted to make sure I'd heard you right."
She frowned again. Heard her right? She thought back. "Just you-" she repeated from earlier. "Forever." She blinked and unconsciously pushed back a strand of his blonde hair. "Well of course I meant it. Isn't that what we're doing here?" she asked. Together, in this war, hadn't they decided they were going steady?
A relieved smile passed softly over his face and he chucked. "Yeah, it is. We just never talked about it is all." When she didn't immediately answer, he reached for one of her curls and lightly touched the end of it. "The future, when this is all over. What it's gonna look like- for us."
And then suddenly, Hermione knew exactly what he was talking about. What most couples did in a hurry before the War and what would happen in abundance afterward. Marriage. Children. He was talking about marrying her.
"I know a lot has happened since we first met," he continued on, unaware of Hermione's internal realizations. "But the thought of you being a part of my life has never changed. You were this light in my day that was shining in a color I had never seen before. And then you were my friend, who's only ever wanted the best for me despite all the chips stacked against the littlest guy in Boston. And then one day, you became everything to me," he confessed.
"Steve, I-" This felt like more than trading sentiments between each other.
"And ever since, I've been trying to become someone worth standing at your side. Who at the end of the day you could come to and say ' that's him- that's my guy," he sighed, one hand rubbing circles into the shirt of her lower stomach. "I couldn't do it selling comics, or writing transcripts, and hell, I couldn't even do it volunteering to serve my country."
"You have never needed to be anyone more than who you already are Steven Rogers," Hermione declared. She was shocked he thought so little of the genuine good in him.
A corner of his mouth lifted. "But you know what I learned?" he asked, leaning forwards. His lips ghosted the top of her forehead. "I found out that you and I, we're better together, no matter what. At home in Brooklyn, in a laboratory working to defeat Nazis, fighting in a War that we both volunteered to join. You and me, it fits, and I want it to be that way forever."
"Me too," Hermione agreed.
"Yeah?" Steve asked, surprised.
"Do you want me to spell it out for you?" Hermione replied.
The tops of his ears burned. "Well, I thought you-"
Hermione gathered up her courage. She had to - what was it Bucky had told her to say to Steve? Let him know you're with him till the end of the line. Well, then that was what she had to do. She had never been any good at personal relationships, and there was no conclusive research Hermione had ever found that ruled the best methods of maintaining a relationship other than bland common sense. She would have to do what she felt right in her gut and hope that Steve would continue to meet her in the middle; be simple and effective.
"If you asked me to marry you, I would say yes," she stated.
Steve blinked. Shock registered across his eyes for a moment before a full smile blossomed over his face. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and the blue of his gaze seemed to shine lighter. "I didn't even get the chance to fully ask," he asked.
"Well," Hermione blushed, "I was thinking ahead."
He grinned, and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. "Of course you were. I love that about you."
Hermione's blush flamed hotter over her cheeks, and the insecurities she'd harbored since she was a child felt hushed in her soul from his words. He loved that about her. Her mind. Who she was.
"Although, I bet you didn't see this coming," Steve said, stepping away with a lingering enamored smile.
Steve broke the hold of her arms around him, and Hermione immediately missed the circle of protection and them that she had been encompassed in. He took another full step behind, shoulders back and wide, a certainty to every movement. He took a deep breath like he was steadying himself.
Curiosity and unease filled her stomach. Couldn't see what? What was he doing, or going to say? He-
With the smooth lines of his uniform proud in the morning sun and the smell of instant coffee and pine trees hung in the chilled air, Steve slowly knelt down onto one knee before her.
Hermione's mind went absolutely blank.
"Hermione. Hermione Jean Granger," Steve said her name like a treasured song, hand at his pocket, and then retrieved a small black box from his trousers. "Witch of Hogwarts, Time Traveler, and Universe Hopper Among the Stars," he smiled and continued on. "The greatest friend a person could ever ask for. The love of my life."
Hermione didn't know if she was breathing. Steve's eyes didn't waver from her face and radiant happiness rounded each word from his lips like they were infused with sunshine.
"Today is a Wednesday, Hermione Granger, and I love you," he avowed. "I will love you tomorrow, and the next day, and even next month. In four months, I will love you as I love you today, but stronger. In a hundred years from now, I will run wrinkled hands over grey hair and smile as I remember how much I love you."
Tears gathered in Hermione's eyes. A fullness that couldn't be explained expanded her heart, her chest, and her breath. Steve opened the little black case to her.
"When you love someone as much as I love you, getting married is the only thing left to do. So will you make me the luckiest man in any time there's ever been, in any world that's ever made, and marry me, Hermione?" he asked.
Marry me, Hermione?
The words echoed in her head, and a thousand different thoughts flooded her mind. Each one shouting at the other with the volume of her emotions, and a tear fell down her face, but Hermione could only think of a single word, rising from the depths of who she was.
She laughed, hand dashing away the tears unabashedly falling from her face, and cried out, "Yes! Yes, of course, I'll marry you!"