Dum Dum, Morita, Falsworth, Dernier and Jones. They had all accepted his offer to team up to go against Hydra, and all it had cost them was an open tab at the local bar, and a dance with Hermione, which she happily agreed to, saying she hadn't gone dancing since she was seventeen.

By the time they made it back to camp, they were all too exhausted for any kind of talk and they crashed in their respective tents, except for Bucky who left the one-oh-seventh cramped lodgings for Steve's roomier tent. He was glad too, because Bucky woke him up with a wail that soon turned into a scream. Steve scrambled out of bed and reached for Bucky, trying to rouse him from his nightmare.

"Steve?"

Bucky's voice sounded so small, so unlike him.

"Shhhh. Yes. It's alright. Try to go back to sleep now, Buck. I'll watch over you. You have nothing to fear."

Bucky mumbled and turned over on his side to grasp his arm then seemed to calm down, but as Steve leaned closer to check his temperature, he heard his friend still mumbling under his breath.

"Sergeant James Barnes, 32557038…"

Steve ran a finger over his cheekbone where a bruise had dug deep just below. He had no idea what Hydra had been doing to him but it had obviously left deeper marks than what he could see on the surface. When Bucky relaxed his grip on him, Steve pulled his cot next to Bucky's and spent the rest if the night close by so he would know immediately if something was wrong. By the time he woke up again though, Bucky was already gone.

When he went out to find him and check he was alright, Peggy accosted him with the news Hermione had had nightmares too.

"Hydra did something to them. When I found him, Bucky was strapped into a chair with a… thing… a machine on his head. I still don't know what they did to Hermione. She's been reluctant to confide in me. She's been… more distant than she used to be back home."

Peggy looked him over.

"You're sure that doesn't have to do with how much you changed? If she's always known you the way you were before, you've got to give her a little time to adjust. In the meanwhile, we'll just have to keep an eye on them, see if the nightmares are a regular occurrence or just them processing their narrow escape. A lot of people have nightmares around camp, so don't worry yourself too much over it, okay?"

She didn't seem all that convinced by her own advice but there was little more they could do for now. During the day, he had the impression hus sergeants were both avoiding him, and it hurt in a way physical blows didn't.

At night, Bucky didn't move his cot away though, so neither did he. They didn't comment on the new sleeping arrangement, just took off their boots and jackets and lay down.

"You okay, Buck?"

Bucky mumbled a vague assent.

"Only you've been quiet today, so I was worried."

He chuckled humorlessly.

"That's just it, you see? That's how it's going to be now. I used to be the one looking out for you, Steve, and now…"

"So it's my turn. Only seems fair after all those years of you keeping me out of trouble, making sure I didn't need for anything."

Bucky was too quiet. Maybe Hermione wasn't the only one who needed time adjusting to the new him. It seemed unfair, because he was still exactly the same person inside. Somehow, whether too weak or too strong, he was still not being treated just for who he was. Did it really bother Bucky so much that he was his equal now?

"I don't think any less of you, Buck," he added, wondering if that was what was bothering him the most.

He couldn't figure this out if no one talked to him. He didn't want the three of them to become strangers. They'd gotten to be so close in New York in such a short time, and now… well, he supposed war did change people. Himself more than most, apparently.

Bucky didn't say anymore, but he wasn't sleeping either, then he almost bolted off his cot when the tent flap opened.

"It's me," came Hermione's whisper. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Steve said, reaching a hand out. "Come here."

She struggled with her boots, cursing laces and mud and numb fingers until she managed to kick them off. She draped her coat over a pole and crawled between them, but Steve occupied all the space on his cot and she fell back towards Bucky's side, causing her to apologize profusely.

"I asked for an extra blanket, but this is much better," Bucky said as he wrapped an arm around her and nuzzled his face into her half unbound hair.

"I didn't know you were cold, Buck," Steve admonished. "You could have taken mine."

"I'd rather keep Hermione."

"Boys, I'm not a hot water bottle to be passed around. Steve, unless you want me to sleep on you, I think this is the best we can manage. I'm not going to ask if you mind, Bucky, because you obviously don't."

"It's not like we haven't slept together before," Bucky teased.

"I hope no one is overhearing this. They're going to get the wrong idea entirely," Steve muttered as their banter conjured images to his mind that had nothing to do with sleeping arrangements and were making his uniform uncomfortable.

"Should be fine. It's quiet tonight," Hermione said. "And I promised you two a story, right?"

She first told Bucky of the pieces he was missing of her time with Steve, how she was from an alternate reality, another time and space.

"Can you prove it?" Bucky asked.

Hermione shifted to dig into her pocket. One of her coins dated from 1997. Bucky lit his lighter and nodded.

"Guess you had other proof?" he asked him, looking over Hermione's profile.

"Plenty. Of the magic too. Can you show him the animal made of light?"

He had always wanted to see it again but hadn't wanted to ask Hermione before as she had been so distraught the last time she had summoned it. Hermione bit her lip and he knew he wouldn't like whatever she said next.

"I can't. That takes us to the second part of this story."

She took his hand and he gave it a gentle squeeze of encouragement while Bucky tightened his arm around her.

Ten weeks ago...

Hermione squinted around the snowy slopes. She didn't know if Norvegian winters were always this extreme or if this was a particularly bad one, but they were making little progress towards the small church she was certain hosted an artefact Hydra was after. Even her compass seemed to be affected by the cold and they'd had to backtrack a couple of times already. The only silver lining in this situation was that they hadn't encountered a single German patrol. They were probably snowed in somewhere, enjoying a hot cup of cocoa. Standing in the snow and freezing gales, trying to figure out the direction to take, Hermione had never hated nazis more than she did right now.

"Sergeant! One of the scouts thinks he found the village."

"Thinks?"

"Well, we can't read the name for shit, but it looks close enough and there is a very old stone church like you described."

"Stone? He's sure about that?"

Most of the smaller, older churches like the one she was searching for were made of wood, and with everything covered in snow, it was hard to tell one thing from the next. But this was a better lead than they'd had in the last three days, so she nodded for them to go on.

"Show the way, then."

She turned her raquettes around and ploughed her way through the powder like snow. Good thing she'd learned a thing or two spending winters in Scotland. When they got there, she only had to glance at the church to know this was it. Or what was left of it. All this time and effort for nought. They'd come too late. Hydra already had the mythical cube of power, the Tesseract. Now, she dearly hoped it was only a myth because if it was half as powerful as legends reported it to be, then they were all fucked.

Events like these made her realise how much more different this world was, and how much she was invested in it at present. Already in New York, when she had realized this was not her reality, she had decided she was here to stay. Maybe even before that, because there was Steve… She had never met someone like him before: so caring, with a sense of justice more ingrained than she had seen in any Gryffindor, brave and strong on the inside, but so weak on the outside it broke her heart. She had wanted to protect him at first, the way he had protected her when they met, despite the odds stacked against him.

But then she had grown attached to him, and then fallen in love with such ease, she couldn't have fought her feelings if she had tried. So she was here to stay. She wouldn't return to the world that had birthed her even if she was given that choice. Meeting Bucky had been a strange experience. He and Steve fit like two pieces of a puzzle, but out of two different boxes, in a way Harry and Ron never had. She feared she would become an outsider when he showed up, the way she had always been, even amongst friends, but Bucky accepted her with open arms. Sometimes literally if she took into account the last night they'd spent sleeping together. It should have been weird, but it wasn't. The three of them created their own little bubble of peace and understanding.

"Ma'am?" her second in command asked.

Pembrook sometimes fell back on treating her like a civilian and a woman rather than his team leader on this mission, not that she blamed him. He was far more experienced and higher ranking than she was, so she let him do his work, only pointing in which direction she wanted to go. They were both happy with the tacit agreement, and so were the other men, she was sure. They were nice enough, but it obviously bothered them to be following a woman, and one who didn't even sound American despite her uniform.

"Any locals around?" she asked.

"No. No bodies either. They might have fled, or been taken prisoners."

With Hydra, either of those were an option. Those thugs didn't bother wearing gloves when they wanted something. The way the centuries old church, a historical and architectural treasure in its own right, had been gutted open like a Christmas turkey, was a testament to that.

"Still no sign of enemy troops?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Alright, we'll set up camp for the night in the church if that's alright with you. It'll give me time to figure out what was taken, if anything. The tower should be good enough for a lookout?"

He nodded and barked out orders. Hermione smiled at the efficiency Pembrook displayed. With the knowledge she was in good hands and didn't have to keep an eye out, she set about to investigate the ruins with a peaceful mind. It was slow going with all the snow that had blown in through the open doorway but there was a tomb, the heavy stone lid of which had been thrown off with such force, it had landed three feet away and broken in several pieces like a shattered mirror. Hermione inspected the lid first, the runes were half erased by time but she could piece together the story of the warrior entrusted with the cosmic cube from the All-Father, which would have been great news if only she had gotten to it first… Peeking into the tomb, the poor skeleton warrior had had his arms ripped off. Definitely Hydra's work. No respect for anyone or anything, living or dead. She found the bones nearby and froze, stunned, because all around, lay what she'd first thought was ice, but, upon closer inspection, turned out to be glass. Making sure her escort were all busy, she palmed her wand and cast a reparo on the broken object which reformed into a perfect glass cube with a dull discoloration in its center.

A fake. It was only a solid block of glass. Not a container for something, and without any spark of energy to it. Ancient, but ultimately worthless. Hydra must have crushed it in anger. Typical. So did they leave empty handed? She kept the spark of hope and relief in check, and paced around the tomb in widening circles, drawn more and more towards the carved wall of Yggdrasil until she was called over by Pembrook standing near the fallen wooden doors of the church. He pointed to the floor which had been covered in snow, revealing a dark stain beneath. Hermione pursed her lips, not particularly surprised Hydra had commited murder in a sacred place.

"Good job on sealing the entrance, Captain," she said, nodding towards the tarp they'd pulled over the collapsed doors and wall.

It cut off the wind and stopped more snow from blowing in, cutting the chill drastically although the night would be difficult to sleep through.

"Rest up. We'll leave at first light."

Pembrook saluted, seemed to catch himself, and smiled sheepishly before gathering his men like a flock of lost lambs for the night. Taking advantage they were all busy, Hermione cast a warming ward all around the large room. Not too warm, they weren't idiots, but enough that they'd attribute the change in temperature to their own hard work and get a good night's sleep for a change. She returned immediately to the Yggdrasil carving after that. She'd never seen such a representation before. Asgard was represented floating above all, of course, and it drew the eye away from the rest. However, she could feel some lingering energy and followed her instinct, tracing a finger down the tree, through the others realms and to its roots. The bottom was still layered in snow and ice however, so she cast a warming charm on her leather gloves to wipe it away until she found a small square hiding nook that had obviously been pillaged already. The traces of energy were alien. Not quite like electricity, not quite like magic. It was something else, something new, yet old like the world.

She had no doubt now that Hydra had found the Tesseract before them. With a sinking heart she joined the men around a small firecamp.

"Bad news, Sarge?" one of them asked.

"They found the artefact."

The men's face fell. They didn't know what it was, per say, nor who they were up against exactly. They didn't need to know as they weren't a part of Project Robin, but they knew enough to understand they had failed and come all the way out here for nothing.

"At least we know. We can prepare ourselves," she tried to comfort them.

She wished someone could comfort her. Schmidt having the Tesseract was like… Voldemort with the mastery of the deathly hallows, only much much worse, she suspected. The information she had on Schmidt was vague and mostly hearsay, but she had seen how fast he found the artefacts and the aftermath of his pillaging. The man was cunning, ruthless and power-hungry. It was with an uneasy mind she drifted off to sleep.

Pembrook shook her awake none too gently some time later. He usually slept next to her in order to keep an eye on the boys, as if she couldn't defend herself.

"Look-out signaled movement. At least four. Circling around."

Hermione nodded. Adrenaline thrumming through her veins, she was as alert as she could hope to be. She crawled out of her blanket, having kept her boots on and cocked her gun. Using a gun did not come naturally, but using a wand for most of her life had given her pretty good aim and reflexes. She would still rather have her wand out, and was ready to use it at any moment if the battle turned sour. She stared at the tarp for any sign of their visitors like the rest of her troop. It may not be Germans, but only locals checking out what was going on with their church again.

But the tarp wasn't pulled aside and she heard a metallic sound, like a chime, then another and a small ball came rolling out from under the tarp.

"Grenade!" Pembrook shouted and threw himself over her just before it detonated with a small hiss.

"Gas!" he corrected. "Fuck."

Because gas masks were not standard equipment.

"Cowards!" he shouted towards the entrance.

They huddled towards the back of the church where the air was still clear but another grenade came crashing through a window behind them. Hermione tried to keep her breathing under control the way she coached Steve to do during his asthma attack, then used her wand to create a bubble charm around them. It was the largest bubble charm she had ever cast but it worked. The greyish gas molding against it. The men muttered amongst them and one of the soldiers was going to poke it with his finger, the bloody idiot.

"Don't," she grumbled.

It was hard enough keeping the thing stable. If she'd had time, she would have cast a bubble charm on each of their heads and they could have fought their way out. But she didn't have time for such a task and couldn't choose who would get a fighting chance and who would be left to choke, so she'd neatly boxed herself into a corner, too busy keeping up the giant bubble to do anything else to save them all.

"What- How-" Pembrook sputtered before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, now I get it. We can't just wait here, though. We're sitting ducks."

"Will the gas disperse?" she asked through gritted teeth.

She could swear the gas was poking at the bubble charm, looking for a way in.

"No breeze. Might take a while. They're probably waiting outside just for that."

Hermione nodded.

"How long can you hold your breath?"

"How long do you need?"

Hermione calculated how fast she could cast a strong wind charm: dropping the bubble charm, wand movement, incantation and effect.

"Forty seconds at most."

The men nodded around her.

"Then get ready to run and attack."

Her wind spell worked like a charm and the gas was expulsed out through the doorway before she could inhale any while speaking the incantation. They charged and Hermione cast a shielding charm at the front line. If her magic was out of the closet, so to speak, she might as well go all out and keep them safe. It was an all out battle in front of the church. The gas had hit a few Germans as it was expelled, but they were still outnumbered and eventually overwhelmed. Still a better outcome than being gassed like insects. They fought with all they had, they fought for their life, for freedom, for a chance to see their home and loved ones again.

Steve.

It was his face she saw when the barrel of the gun stopped inches from her own. This was it then. Death had finally come for her.

"Surrender, Fraulein."

Hermione glared at the man towering over her, jutting out her chin mulishly.

"Surrender, or say bye bye to your Freude."

He tossed his head to the left and she caught a glimpse of Pembrook and a few other men being aligned in the snow with their hands up. It looked too much like an execution lineup and Pembrook shook his head at her. She was about to call the nazy out for being a liar when she was hit from the back.

A liar and a coward.

When she woke up, she was a prisoner, unsurprisingly. It had been a dangerous mission, so far out behind enemy lines, but that's usually how Robin missions went. Success rate was poor and Death rate high. She might even have refused if she hadn't identified this artefact as something as bad as a nuclear bomb.

At least she was travelling comfortably for a prisoner, she'd give them that, but Hydra, because these were Hydra soldiers according to their octopus pins, never did anything without a reason, so she stayed on her guards. Maybe they wanted to soften her up, gain sympathy, a little stockholm syndrome on the side maybe? Ha! Fat chance. She knew evil when she saw it.

"Where are my men?" she demanded.

One of the soldiers, probably the higher up given the way he strutted over to her like a peacock, with a smile which didn't reach his eyes.

"Prisoners of war, of course. They stay in the snow, but our leader wishes to meet you personally, Fraulein Granger."

He said her name all wrong, but it chilled her that he seemed to know exactly who she was. Concerning Pembrook and his troop, she had no way of knowing if their supposed fate was true or not.

As for meeting with Schmidt, she couldn't think of anything else she'd rather not do.