A/N This takes place a month or two after the final battle in the Harry Potter Universe and sometime between Steve being unfrozen and the Avengers movie in the Marvelverse. And yes, I know the timelines don't match up.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own.
Warning: This story may contain in-depth descriptions of grief and PTSD. When I started this story I had no intention of going this detailed into the emotional impact, but as I started writing this I couldn't help but feel I wouldn't be doing justice to the toll trauma takes on children if I glossed over all the awful stuff that happens in canon. If there's anything I think might be extra triggering then I will try to put up a separate warning.
Chapter 10
Before she left the wizarding sector, Hermione inquired about directions to the owlery and hurried along to the end of the street where it was located. The owlery was a small two-story building with the whole second floor dedicated to a roost for the owls housed there. There was a bell above the door that chimed loudly as Hermione entered. She immediately spotted the clerk even in the dim lighting of the room. He was hard to miss with several owl feathers sticking out of his disheveled brown hair and a dirty apron. He seemed disinterested as he hardly glanced up at the chiming of the door. Luckily, there weren't any other customers in the post office at the moment.
"Can I help you miss?" he asked.
Hermione tucked her hands in her pants pockets and smiled politely. "I hope so. I've just moved here from Britain and I'm hoping to send a letter home. Is that possible and if so, how would I go about that?"
The clerk was leaned on counter and he didn't so much as look up from what appeared to be a pop culture or fashion magazine before he answered in a bored tone, "That's easy enough. If you let me know the country of destination, at the end of the day I will floo over the day's mail to the nearest wizarding post office and they will owl the letter to the receiver."
Hermione scowled at his rudeness as she pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and an ink set from her beaded bag in her pocket. "May I use that desk over there to write a short letter?" she asked as she pointed to a small wooden writing desk with her free hand in the far corner.
The clerk shrugged as he turned a page, "That's what it's for."
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from snarking at the unhelpful clerk. She didn't want to draw too much attention to herself and throwing a fit would be counterproductive to that goal. She made her way over to the desk that appeared to have seen better days decades ago and sat down to write a short note to Harry. She brushed the soft feather end of the quill against her lips as she mentally composed what she wanted to write. She put the tip to the parchment and began to write.
Dear Harry,
I'm sorry I left without talking to you first, but I'm not sorry that I left. I needed to leave, and I don't think I'm coming back anytime soon. I've already found a muggle job in America and I believe it will do me some good to be out of Britain for the time being. I need time to think about everything that happened. I hope you haven't been worried about me. I'll be safe especially since no one seems to know who I am here. It's honestly the nicest thing about being here. Americans seem very far removed from what happened in Britain. I don't think the average American would even recognize you either!
If you need me urgently send me a message on the DA coins and I will find a way to meet you. Take care of yourself and let Mrs. Weasley fatten you up! I know you aren't a great correspondent, but please keep in touch and maybe even come visit me.
Love,
Hermione
P.S. Please don't tell Ron where I am.
Hermione tapped the letter twice to spell the contents of the letter to only be readable to Harry. Then she folded and addressed the letter to her friend. At the counter she cleared her throat loudly, à la Madame Undersecretary Umbridge, to get the cashiers attention. He startled and finally looked up from his magazine. When he met her eyes, she said, "This is for someone in London. How much do I owe you?"
He quoted her an amount and Hermione counted it out and handed him the exact change. Hermione let out a cleansing breath as she exited the post office. Not only did the air outside not smell of owl excrement and a barely maintained store, but she had been feeling immensely guilty about not contacting Harry and now that she had sent off a letter, she felt some of her guilt and anxiety melt away.
She knew that he had to be worried that she had suddenly disappeared after a Sunday dinner at the Weasley's after the endless funerals and the fact that he hadn't heard from her in so long. She didn't want him deciding that she had been kidnapped and doing something reckless and dangerous to rescue her when that's not what she needed. What she had just needed was to get away from the toxic atmosphere in wizarding Britain and Ron Weasley's idea of a marriage proposal when they hadn't even been dating, nor did she want to date him anymore not after he had left her and Harry during the Horcrux hunt.
When Hermione got back to apartment after her adventure in Wizarding New York she rested in her conjured chair, that she was surprised had stayed conjured for so long, and waved her new wand in complicated patterns toward her apartment door to set up a few basic wards to alert her when she had a visitor. Her new wand channeled her magic much easier than Bellatrix's wand had for her. When she had previously cast with Bellatrix's wand it was as if she had to overcome some initial resistance before her magic could be used and that had made it unsuitable for casting long-lasting stable wards. She had forgotten how wonderful and easy magic felt when the wand that was well matched to her magic.
Hermione heaved herself out chair and walked to her bedroom closet. Then she expanded it to the size of a small potions' lab. She summoned all of the obviously magical items in her apartment, like her spell books, cauldrons, potion ingredients, and witches' robes and stashed them haphazardly in her newly enlarged room. She figured she would sort everything else out another day. Once outside of the closet Hermione warded it with her least intrusive muggle repelling wards. She smiled, pleased at how smooth her casting was now. If muggles were going to be in her home, she didn't want them stumbling over her magical items, but she also didn't want them rushing out of her room convinced they had a dentist appointment they had forgotten about.
She made her way back out to her living room and sat down heavily in the conjured chair. As soon as she relaxed and melted into the seat it popped out of existence. Hermione flailed as she fell. She hit the carpeted floor hard. She stayed on the floor for a moment before sighing as she hoisted herself up and rubbed at her sore backside. At least she was expecting to have a delivery of furniture for her living room and bedroom later in this afternoon. Maybe if she had furniture for those two rooms, she could stop being so embarrassed when her coworkers showed up unannounced and saw how bare her apartment was.
When she was younger, she had thought that when she was an adult, she would take pleasure in a sophisticatedly decorated apartment. Now, it just hadn't been something she cared or even thought about until her coworkers had shown up twice in the same week. She hardly glanced at the bare walls or noticed her severe lack of furniture unless she needed it. The emptiness just didn't seem to matter to her.
While she was waiting for the furniture, she dived back into reviewing the provided research and studying for her job interview in the morning. She flipped through the binder making some last-minute notes in the margins. She paused for a long second in her perusal and then rapidly went through all the provided material, but she couldn't find what she was looking for. She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought. There was no data included on whatever alias she was supposed to use tomorrow and there was no way that she could manage to get an interview, let alone hired, on her current qualifications to such a high-profile and exclusive company.
Hermione nonverbally summoned the business card Agent Coulson had left with her. The card flew out of her newly stocked kitchen and into her waiting hand. She dialed the cell number written on the card into her phone and tapped her foot while she waited as the phone rang.
It rang three times before the Agent's voice came over the phone speaker, "Coulson speaking."
"This is Hermione. Sorry to bother you so soon, but I was reading through the information in the packet you dropped off a couple days ago and I realized that there is no cover or alias for me included. Is there a way I'm supposed to play this, some kind of protocol that I'm not aware of, or is SHIELD intending that I come up with my own alternate alias and fake documents?" she asked.
"That wasn't in the packet?" he asked after a long pause.
"Nope," she popped the p sound as she answered.
"And Fury didn't discuss any of this with you beforehand either?" he said genuinely sounding confused to Hermione.
"He did not."
"That's strange, but it might have just been an oversight I suppose. I will look into it and then drop off the information and your documentation this evening," Coulson said. In the background Hermione thought she could hear other people chatting quietly.
"Alright I should be at home the rest of today, so anytime is good for me," she responded back mildly while tapping her pen steadily against her research materials.
He sighed on the other end of the line, "I'm going to assume that Director Fury forgot to have someone issue you a computer as well, judging by the fact that I see a personnel equipment request on my desk."
"I'm supposed to get a computer?" she asked blankly.
"I'll take that as a no. Yes, you were supposed to be issued a secure laptop and a government email. If I can get it setup this afternoon, I will bring that later too and show you how to log on and use anything you don't already know how to use," he stated.
Hermione frowned. She wasn't sure how well a computer would fare in her apartment with her magic acting the way it had been lately. "Okay I will be waiting here then," she said and hung up the phone. She had only a couple of hours to get her magic under control enough that she didn't fry a highly sensitive piece of equipment. She ran through a status check of her magical and mental well-being. She thought that her mental state was actually better than it had been in a long time, between not having to use a wand she loathed and having some basic protections on her apartment, she felt safer and more relaxed than she had in a long time, but she didn't know if that would be enough to allow her to safely use a computer yet.
The curly haired witch tapped her foot against the floor and furrowed her brows in thought. She supposed the only other thing to do would be to clear her mind and employ the start of her Occlumency shields to keep her emotions and magic in check. The issue with that was that she wasn't sure she could keep her shields active for that long especially since she didn't know when the other Agent would make it to her apartment, and it wasn't a long-term solution, since it would be dangerous for her in the long run to have incomplete Occlumency shields active all the time, not to mention energy draining. Until she got herself under permanently under control, she would continue to be a hazard to the electronics around her which would be a disaster both at SHIELD Headquarters and Stark Industries if it had as many electronics as she suspected it did. She didn't think fixing or relearning control was the type of thing you could just hurry along though.
The magic in her proximity wards buzzed pleasantly as they registered more than more person outside her door. She sat up abruptly, dropping her pen onto her materials as she was knocked out of her deep thinking. There was a rapping at her door and Hermione looked out her peephole before opening the door to the furniture delivery people.
"Is this the residence of Ms. Hermione Granger?" the taller of the two men asked.
"Yes, it is," she replied.
"We have a delivery of a bedroom and living room set for you. Where would you like us to put it?"
She stepped out of the doorway as she spoke, "Please come in and stacked up in the living room is fine for now."
"Alright, we're going to have to make several trips to bring it all up," the taller of the two spoke again.
"That's fine I'll leave the door open," she said.
Hermione made her way into her kitchen and set a kettle on the stove for tea. As she waited for her water to boil, she sat on her counter and watched the movers bring in her new furniture. It took them several trips, but they finally left and closed her front door as they left. Hermione hopped down from the countertop with her half-finished tea in hand. There was hardly any room in her living room at the moment as it wasn't meant to house furniture for two rooms and it wasn't a large room to begin with.
Hermione moved all her research onto the counter she had just vacated in the kitchen and vanished the rest of her temporary conjured furniture. She tapped her wand absent-mindedly against her leg as she stared at the time on the stove. By her count, Agent Coulson could be there at any time now and he didn't seem like the kind of person to show up late unless there was an emergency.
She tucked her wand back away and sat down cross legged on the floor near a window. She took several deep breaths as she attempted to clear her mind. When she accomplished clearing her mind, she held pictures of still lakes and flawless glass in her otherwise empty mind. She left no crevasses, cracks, or crags. She pictured her mind impenetrable and unbreakable and felt the subtle magic of Occlumency settle in her mind allowing her to mute the turmoil that roiled through her on a daily basis.
Theoretically, it would keep her mind calmer, especially from external sources, and therefore less prone to magical outbursts. She knew it wouldn't be enough against a Legilimency attack, but she wasn't trying to do that much right now. Maybe eventually she would get that proficient, but she was just trying to settle and calm her mind enough to significantly lower the rate of her magical outbursts. She likened the beginning stages of Occlumency to a magical version of meditation.
After the magic settled fully in her mind Hermione let out a deep cleansing breath and opened her eyes. She had no idea exactly how long she had spent building up the fortress of her mind. Ideally, once she became practiced at the art of Occlumency she would be able to draw up defenses in her mind instantly, but that normally took months more of dedication and practice.
Hermione set about making more tea and mentally began planning out how she was going to fit the new furniture into their set rooms. She was just finished pre-cleaning her bedroom so that she could move the bedroom set into that room first when she felt her proximity wards go off yet again. She wiped her dusty palms off on her pants. As she was making her way down the hall and to the door a knock sounded. She smiled, pleased at the efficacy of her wards and the amount of forewarning they provided. She glanced through the peephole and spotted Agent Coulson in a professional black work suit shifting awkwardly outside her door.
"Phil, thanks for dropping by. Please come in," she said as she opened the door.
"Thank you, Hermione," he answered exchanging a warm smile with her.
Hermione scratched at the back of her neck as she said, "Excuse the mess. I finally had furniture delivered, but I haven't had time to organize it."
"That's perfectly understandable. I have your assigned laptop with me." he said holding up a black case. "For now, since I didn't get the chance to formally train you, I'm just going to have you relay anything important to me through email or phone."
"Alright email is good. I know how those works," she said with a self-deprecating smile. She gestured toward her kitchen counter. "If you want to set that up there, you can show me my logon information and then we can go over what you found out about my cover situation for the Stark Assignment."
Phil nodded and showed her how to log in to her assigned laptop and some of the security features. It didn't take long maybe twenty to thirty minutes at most. During that time Hermione was eternally grateful that her magic behaved perfectly.
Hermione shut down the computer and then looked to her supervisor. He had an immensely displeased look on his face, and she was instantly wary. She bit her bottom lip and asked, "What's wrong?"
The displeased look didn't disappear from his face, but it did smooth out a little at her question. He sighed, "I talked with Director Fury about your assignment and your cover. He doesn't want you to use much of a cover. In fact, he wants you to be yourself and the only things he arranged for you were a graduation certificate, military records, honorable discharge papers, and references from your home country."
"But why? And I wasn't in the military," she said. A frown settled on her lips and her brows furrowed in confusion.
"I'm not sure why he wants you to be yourself," Couslon said with a shrug. "Fury seemed particularly annoyed that Her Majesty's Armed Forces gave him trouble about providing a civilian with military papers at least until he mentioned your name. Then Director Fury said that they practically tripped all over themselves to help as they've apparently been trying to reach out to you. Fury even got moved up the chain of command for faster assistance," Phil said lightly. Hermione could see the grin threatening to break out on the agent's face and the twinkle in his eyes. She imagined that it was rare to see Director Fury flummoxed like that, especially when it appeared that he still had no idea why she was being treated in such a manner. It must be infuriating for him.
Hermione grinned back, "I certainly wouldn't know why that would be. I've never met any of Her Majesty's Forces."
Phil hid, what Hermione suspected was the start of a smile, behind his hand and made a noncommittal noise. He continued on, "In light of the information that was provided for you, I'm changing the parameters of your assignment. I'm not sure what he was thinking, but as Director Fury has your assignment now, there's no good way for you to succeed without you being suspected and since your supposed to be a consultant it would be foolish to ruin your real name."
Hermione cocked her head, "Okay, what will I be doing then?"
"It's basically the same, except I want you to really work for Stark and only contact me to let me know if Stark is about to do something truly hazardous or if you come across information that SHIELD couldn't get otherwise about other dangerous individuals," he said.
Hermione let out a soft breath of relief and Coulson knew he had made the right decision. When he had met her the other day, she had seemed warm and sincere. It wasn't that he thought that Hermione wasn't capable of what doing what had been asked, but with the additional information that she didn't have any sort of cover, Coulson didn't want to put the woman in that position when it wasn't necessary. It was different when you had a role to play in an undercover mission, but if you were supposed to be yourself and spy, it brought all sorts of moral and ethical issues up. He wasn't in the habit of using his assets up or messing with their heads and then throwing them out after they were too broken.
"If you don't have any questions, I'll leave these papers here for you as well as the information that SHIELD used to put together your resume," Coulson said as he handed a small packet to her.
Hermione glanced through the pages quickly looking for anything obvious she should question the other man about before he left. When she didn't see anything, she nodded at Coulson and thanked him. He left shortly thereafter. As soon as he left, she began deconstructing the defenses she had up in her mind. While they were still only partially built, they drained her magic at a faster rate and there could be mental strain when they came down, especially if they were used for too long. They were a good short-term solution to help blunt her emotions, but she was aware that the fallout could be rough if she left them up too long.
While Hermione was letting her mind recalibrate, she familiarized herself with the additional information she had been provided. She noted that the military papers the British Army had sent her included a note from General Richards that stated that she had been retroactively inducted into the ranks and that should she decide to make it back to the UK she would be reinstated at this rank immediately after she went through basic training if she wanted to work for the Army, or providing she could prove that she went through basic training with their American allies, she would be re-enlisted at that active rank and any clearances granted to military members of that rank would be granted to her in thanks for her service over the last few years.
There was contact information for the General listed at the Chief of the General's office, which nicely explained why this general knew anything about her, if she had any questions or needed anything else. If he was head of the British Military than it made sense that he knew since he was one of the highest-ranking military members and would be one of the people that needed to know about magic regardless of the Statute of Secrecy. Judging by the offer they made her they were clearly hoping that they could entice her into working with them if she ever went back home.
She was a little shocked that she had been granted essentially granted service time and the rank of Lieutenant. She was sure that wasn't how the military usually worked and she wasn't sure if she would take them up on completing the basic training or not if she made it back to Britain. On one hand, it would be good to have that distinguishment, but on the other, she wasn't sure if she would go back home any time soon or if she would be healthy enough to participate in something so vigorous. Besides, she didn't feel she had earned the distinction they had bestowed on her. Looking at the discharge papers in her hands Hermione wondered if her father would have been proud of her even though she didn't feel like she had earned it.
Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of her father. She wasn't sure if she would be able to undo the spell she had cast, but at any rate, it still wasn't safe enough for her parents to come home, even if she could manage to undo her spell work. She had known the statistics before she had performed the spell to erase herself from her parents' memory. The chances of her retrieving her parents' memory perfectly was around twenty percent and the rate of only partially retrieving the memories was only fifteen percent more. The rate of complete failure to fix her parents memories was a nearly sixty-five percent, but Hermione hadn't felt like she had a choice at the time.
What were her parent's memories of her compared to their lives? She knew she could not have lived with being the reason that her parents were tortured or killed. So even though she might never get her parents back it had been worth it to Hermione. She recognized that it was, perhaps, the cruelest piece of magic she had performed. To take away all of someone's yesterdays for the promise of a false tomorrow. She knew that her parents had considered her an integral piece of their lives and that magic had ripped her from them when she went off to Hogwarts. And she had let magic tear them apart again, even more thoroughly, when she had forcibly torn her existence and their own from their knowledge without their consent.
When the activity from the Death Eaters' that specifically bore her a grudge died down, she would take time off work and search for her parents in Australia. She tried not to dwell on what she would do if the spell wasn't reversible on both of her parents. In the meantime, though she would contemplate her future plans for her career, where she wanted to live, and what she was going to do about Her Majesty's Army attempting to recruit her.
Her wards buzzed pleasantly at her awareness again and Hermione glanced curiously at her door. She dashed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and wiped the excess moisture on her pants. She wasn't expecting anyone else today and it was close to dinner time maybe even slightly after that for most people. She palmed her wand at her side and went to her door. Standing outside the door was Steve Rogers for the second time in just a few days. She slipped her wand back out of sight and opened the door.
"Hello again. I didn't expect to see you so soon," she said with a slightly puzzled look on her face.
Steve adjusted the baseball cap on his damp hair and asked, "Is this a bad time?"
"Oh no. Please come in," she said as she stepped back from the doorway to allow his broad form to enter her home.
He walked in her apartment for the second time in only a few days and took in her drawn features and red-rimmed eyes. His expression softened, she looked very lost at the moment and he was reminded that she was still recovering from whatever had happened to her. It was often hard to tell, because she carried herself and spoke so confidently that it masked the toll her negative experiences had left. She had a distinct and memorable presence. He thought that despite her slight stature, it would be hard for anyone who ever saw Hermione Granger to forget her. However, with her slumped shoulders and tear-stained eyes it was apparent that she wasn't healthy physically or emotionally yet. That was to be expected though. It hadn't been very long since the end of her trauma.
Steve watched one unruly curl of her wild hair drop nearly into her eyes. With how sad she looked his fingers itched to tuck the wayward curl behind her ear, but he restrained himself. He was primarily surprised that he'd even had the urge to do such a thing in the first place. That wasn't something he did to people he didn't know all that well and he had only truly spent a significant amount of time with Hermione a handful of times. He also didn't think that she would appreciate such a gesture; she would either feel it inappropriate or worse she'd think he was attempting to take advantage of her state of mind. He was sorely tempted though because he felt drawn to her like she was a powerful magnet.
He glanced away from her distracting hair and over her shoulder. He was surprised to see loads of furniture stacked up in the room several feet away. Steve gestured toward the furniture, "Oh, I did come at a bad time. I just thought I would see if you've eaten yet."
"It's not a bad time. My furniture was delivered earlier today, but at this rate, I likely won't start organizing it until tomorrow evening anyway, so you aren't interrupting anything," she said with a still watery half smile.
"Let me help you move your furniture around then and if you're hungry afterwards we can go get something to eat," he said gently not mentioning the signs of her distress that lined her face.
Hermione crossed her arms stubbornly. "I couldn't ask you to do that."
"You're not, I'm volunteering," he said chipperly.
Hermione looked at him shrewdly and then sighed before replying, "Okay, but only if you let me pay for dinner afterwards this time."
Steve grinned. "No promises ma'am."
"I'm not a ma'am," she scowled.
Steve took off his leather bomber jacket and moved toward the pile of furniture. Hermione took his jacket and placed it on her kitchen counter, since that was one of the only flat surfaces available in her apartment right now. Hermione had just been intending to use her magic to move and organize the new furniture, but Steve looked like he wouldn't take no for an answer. She attempted to help move the furniture, but she was too slow to keep up with how fast and easily Steve lifted the furniture. She eyed him curiously and a little entranced, to her dismay, as he worked. He seemed absurdly stronger than she would have expected. His muscles bunched up and flexed the whole time, but he didn't even break a sweat or become winded. And that was strange even by the standards Hermione was used to.
Steve was thankful to have a mindless distraction such as moving furniture. He hadn't planned on bothering Hermione the night before her assignment, but during his workout earlier in the afternoon, thoughts of his war days and those he had lost had intruded and upset his state of mind. In his mind he could still see Bucky fall from the train and feel the emptiness of his outstretched hand. He had hightailed it back to his apartment to take a shower, but the quiet of his apartment had made it easier for his thoughts to spiral. Steve had grabbed his keys and cruised the city until he realized that he was hungry and only a few streets away from Hermione's place and that company would be a welcome distraction.
Within no time at all the two of them had managed to arrange the furniture in a manner that Hermione was satisfied with. She still needed décor for her walls, but at least her apartment wasn't barer than a bachelor pad anymore.
"I've worked up an appetite. Let's go get something to eat," Steve said as he twisted his torso from side to side to stretch his lower back. Hermione caught her gaze staring at the outline of his abs and drifting lower before she realized and quickly averted her eyes.
"Okay, let me go change into fresh clothes. I'll be right out. Your jacket is on the counter in the kitchen," she said her voice fading as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. She quickly changed into clean appropriate clothes and put a light jacket on since it was cooler this evening.
When Hermione made it back into the kitchen where Steve was still retrieving his jacket, she saw that he had his brow raised at the papers that were on the counter. As far as she could tell, he hadn't touched the paperwork at all, but he wouldn't have needed to, because sitting out in plain sight on the top of the stack was her newly created discharge papers. She felt the blood drain out of her face and she swayed slightly in the doorway. She had not meant to leave those out and he would think that she lied to him when they met about not being in the military.
Steve looked up at the movement and quickly noticed that something was wrong with her. He held up his hands with his palms visible. "Hey, I didn't look through your papers. I just recognized the discharge papers and I was surprised because I thought you had told me you were a civilian," he said, free of any accusation in the tone of his voice.
Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she let her gaze meet his bright blue gaze and she saw only curiosity reflected in them. There was no judgement that she could see, and she was just realizing how much his good opinion and friendship meant to her.
She started explaining quietly, "That's because when we met, I was just a civilian. Apparently, Director Fury reached out to my home country to provide a cover story for me and they gladly retroactively inducted me into the military for my service over the past few years. Apparently, they had already been trying to reach me for a month at my previous address to offer me a position or award. I had heard murmurs of it when I left England, but I hadn't thought they were serious." Which was true, she had heard that the muggle military wanted to award her before she left, but she hadn't thought it was true because how would they explain her award without explaining about magic?
Steve dropped his arms back down and cocked his head as he asked, "You seem upset about this?"
Hermione crossed her arms stubbornly and ground her teeth together as she averted her eyes. "They made me a Lieutenant and I didn't earn that. I don't like the thought that they just granted me an exception and gave me a position that I didn't earn."
He walked into her space and rested a gentle hand on the outside of her upper arm. He looked down into her warm whiskey-colored eyes as he spoke softly, "If they gladly granted the position it sounds like you did earn it with your actions."
The curly haired witch dropped her crossed arms. "It still doesn't seem fair," she said.
Steve pursed his lips as he debated on what to say. He decided that he could tell her a little about his own experience as long as he kept it vague. His thumb unconsciously made small soothing circles on her arm. Steve wet his lips, "My Captaincy was granted to me in a similar manner. Not exactly the same way, but I didn't have any field experience before it was granted to me and for a long time I didn't feel as if I had done enough to deserve it."
Hermione stared up into his face and held back a shiver that threatened to break loose from the gentle caress on her arm. Her voice came out a little breathily as she asked, "How did you get over that?"
He met her gaze with a serious look on his countenance, "I proved that I was worth it."
Hermione frowned and wrinkled her brows. "How do I do that?"
"Whoever sent those papers seems to think you already have," he said.
She blinked to process his statement and pursed her lips, "I don't even know where Lieutenant falls in the ranks."
Steve let out a boyish grin. "Well, I think I still remember how Her Majesty's Forces are structured, so I can probably help you there. Are you a 1st or 2nd Lieutenant or did they make you a Lieutenant something else?"
Hermione blinked and snagged the military paperwork off the counter to check not having known that there was more than one option. "1st Lieutenant," she answered and looked back up at him expectantly.
"That means they made you a commissioned officer above a 2nd Lieutenant, which is the lowest of the officer ranks, and right below Captain," he explained.
"Oh, I feel better about that. Thank you. I was worried they went overboard. I still don't think I earned that, but that's not as bad as I thought," she said breathing out a shallow breath and relaxing her tensed posture.
He met her gaze and said earnestly, "Glad I could help."
Hermione's flickered down to his lips before darting back to his eyes. She cleared her throat and backed up. His hand slid down the length of her arm as she moved out of his reach. She looked up at him through her long lashes and nearly let out a sigh of relief when she saw that he didn't seem to notice her misstep. "So, what did you want for dinner?" she asked to change the subject and hopefully shake herself out of the awkwardness she was feeling.
A mischievous look stole across Steve's face and Hermione had a feeling that she wouldn't like whatever he had to say next. "Your choice Lieutenant Granger."
Hermione threw up her hands exasperatedly. "Technically, Captain Rogers I rank below you, so it should be your decision where we eat," she argued. She had a brief thought of relief that at least the tension had been broken.
He raised a brow and pointed to himself, "Since I'm above you I can just order you to decide where we eat."
Hermione scowled, "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"
"No ma'am," he said with an easy smile.
She opened her eyes wide and pouted playfully. "But I don't know that many places here. I haven't gone out to eat all that much in the short amount of time I've been here," she said in a coaxing tone.
Steve swallowed at the way the pout she gave him emphasized the softness of her lips. He dragged his gaze up to her eyes, but that only made him notice that in this lighting her eyes exactly matched the Irish whiskey that he and Bucky had drank on his twenty-first birthday. He blinked in surprise at that memory. That was the first time he remembered something about his friend in a positive manner since he had woken up from being frozen. The first time something had reminded him of his friend without thinking of the loss of him first.
Coming back to himself, Steve rolled his eyes at her and said, "Fine. We can walk around a little and see if anything catches our eye."
"I knew you'd see it my way eventually Captain," she said with a wink.
A/N This has been a very terrible month which is the only reason this didn't get out sooner and that I haven't been as good about responding to reviews. Within the past few weeks I've lost several people to covid. Thankfully, no one in my immediate family but, the losses are still painful and I just haven't had much inclination to update even though this chapter was mostly finished already.
Anyway, let me know what you thought and thanks for reading.
-BlushinRosie
