Chapter Four
The Black Pit
After checking and putting away his combat knives, a couple of grenades, his new SIG-Sauer, and his two favourite Glucks, Bucky's eyes fixed on the computer screen, but as much as he stared at it, nothing changed. The Void or Sentry had given no sign since their sudden disappearance that morning.
"You know," Harry said as he observed Clermont Ferrand's Place de la Victoire from their hotel window, "our turn started one hour ago and I honestly thought two things would happen, the first being that you would ask me some questions."
Bucky, seated on the bed with the little service table in front of him, lifted his eyes from the computer and stared, again, now at Harry.
Harry scoffed and crossed his arms after Bucky's questioning silence; then shook his head in bemusement.
"Blimey! About Hermione?"
Bucky narrowed his eyes. "Why would I?"
Harry observed his tense posture and sighed. "Sorry. Forget what I said." And returned to watch the French evening life.
Minutes passed without another word.
Bucky internally groaned. At least thrice he had stopped himself from asking questions about her. How did Harry know? Was it that obvious? It was unimportant, really. The sensation of lacking control over his life, over his own emotions, had made him take a step back … And yet, if he could ask Harry…
Now his psychologist was emphasising in his mind how he needed to open himself more, to 'nurture friendships'. He clenched his jaw and mentally scowled at Dr. Raynor's image.
Really? How could he open up when he still had issues trusting people? When trusting meant surrendering control? When opening up meant confiding his hurt? Explaining the Winter Soldier? Who would trust him in a relationship after knowing who he was in the past? Who would believe in him after knowing the truth?
In his mind, Dr Raynor took out that goddamned black notebook and started writing.
Fine! He accepted the challenge. Maybe, if he asked something, he wouldn't have to talk much. Just one question.
Bucky cleared his throat. Just one question. You can't shy away forever.
"Hermione told me this is your last mission?" Bucky asked. Harry jumped, surprised.
"Er… yeah," Harry took a seat in one of the hotel chairs, making himself comfortable, "I've decided to leave the Ministry," Harry couldn't avoid resting his head on the chair, watching the ceiling, "I got tired of fighting."
"How come?" Bucky asked despite his initial aversion to the conversation.
"Well, I don't know how much Hermione told you about our childhood… about my life," Harry commented, still not making eye contact with him, "but I've been fighting since I was 11 years old, and I feel it's finally time to leave that life behind me," the wizard leaned forward, his eyes resting on him.
Bucky nodded. He understood. And quite perfectly as well. That was his secret wish.
It seemed the nodding was enough for Harry. He continued.
"After the war, I now understand that I didn't know what to do with my life. I thought I did, I followed Ron into Auror training. I worked hard to follow that childish dream that somehow had convinced me that fighting was my skill, my role. But it isn't. I married a smart, caring and patient witch that showed me I didn't need to hide from the rest of the world anymore. And I realised that not only I didn't need to hide behind my auror duty, but I also didn't want to. I want peace, Barnes. So, I chose to leave that life behind."
Peace. That word. Bucky carefully nodded again.
"Was it... hard?"
"It was a fucking hell. Facing my black pit. My anger."
"What are you gonna do, now?" Bucky was curious. If this man was able to find another path, to find someone who he could trust, then maybe…
The question made Harry chuckle.
"I'm gonna teach. I do have skills that children can learn, like how to protect themselves from dark magic. So, Hogwarts will be my new home starting next September."
If he remembered correctly, Hogwarts was a boarding school. "Your family?"
Harry smiled as he shook his head. "They'll live in the nearest town and I'll come and go. They're really happy, by the way. I'll get to spend more time with them and I won't put myself in danger anymore."
Not many seconds passed before Bucky opened up. It was easy with someone who had had a similar experience.
Dr Raynor 20, Bucky 0.
"Do you know about…me? The Winter Soldier?" Harry raised his eyebrows after he listened to Bucky's question.
"Yeah. I ahh... may have heard a conversation you had with Sam the other day... er... sorry 'bout that." Harry sheepishly brushed his hair. Bucky didn't know how to feel. If enraged, relieved or worried. How much Hermione knew?
"We read about the hero Bucky Barnes, and, well, that you've been ... Er... on missions since WWII?" At Bucky's firm confirmation, Harry let out a low long whistle of surprise, "Bloody hell, that's … I don't know, mate, aren't you tired?"
"I am." Forgetting about the computer, Bucky moved it away, facing Harry directly, "I want a peaceful life like you, one without the Winter Soldier's shadow."
Harry shook his head. "Mate, believe me when I tell you, that's not the way."
"What do you mean?"
"Er… Well, by thinking that way, you're just anchoring yourself to something you can't be anymore. Believe me, I've been there, and it's a mistake. You changed. The Winter Soldier happened. That black pit that represents everything you loath about yourself will be there, always."
Bucky felt his throat close.
"Instead, you should focus on what you can be in the future with what you've got, mate. You have the power and freedom to choose, right?" Harry stopped, unsure, but then decided to continue, "Just remember, you deserve it. Even if friends and family died because of you. Even if you feel shame after remembering how you pushed away the persons that care for you." Sorrow flashed in Harry's eyes. Guilt was visible to those who shared it. "It took me years to accept it but, if there is one piece of advice that I can share with you is that the only one who can stop you from taking what you deserve is yourself."
Those words were foreign to Bucky. Life had given him shit and he had lost himself in that process, the Winter Soldier taking his place. But now that he was back, what did the new Bucky want from now on? What did the new Bucky deserve? Dreamed of after making his amends?
Curly hair came to mind.
"Until we leave, whenever you wanna talk, I'll be here." Without anything more to share, Harry stood and went again to his previous place beside the window, grief marring his face, while Bucky struggled with the avalanche of emotions and thoughts that the conversation had created.
It wasn't much later that there was a knock on the door. Harry smirked, the remnants of his hardships gone from his eyes.
"And, there it is. My second guess."
Bucky, being closer to the door, stood and opened it, finding Hermione awkwardly smiling with a plate of french food and wearing comfy clothes. He pressed his lips together at her sight before finally words came out of his mouth.
"He's back there." Bucky signalled towards Harry.
"Oh, right. Thanks." She entered and nervously glanced at her best friend who raised an eyebrow after noticing only one dinner plate. Harry and Hermione shared a look for a couple of seconds before Harry playfully scoffed.
"Ron called room service and asked for more than we can all eat?"
"You know him." Hermione bit her lower lip.
Harry nodded. "I'll come back later to continue my shift, then." He waved as he passed by them, "Cheers!"
Before Bucky could ask her why she had brought only one plate filled to the top with an assortment of french food, Hermione laid it on the table where the computer was.
"As we cannot understand your technology, Sam agreed you should stay monitoring the computer. So I brought you a little bit of everything," Hermione patiently waited for him to sit, so he took his previous place on the edge of the bed, "Croque monsieur, a mix of cheeses, french fries, steak and salad…" she blurted all out as she seated by his side, on the bed, not on the chair across from him. He tensed and tried -and failed- to move away from her, " … Sam told me you don't like pudding, so…"
Hermione conjured a glass of water and then crossed her legs, turned towards him, expectantly waiting for him to start eating, her chin on her hand.
Bucky took the cutlery and focused on the food instead of her. He gained time to think about what to do. Hermione was there, in the room. They were alone.
With difficulty, Bucky chewed his Croque monsieur.
Shit. Of course he would take the chance, any chance, if only to talk to her and listen to her voice. He wanted this, a memory that he knew would become one of the best he would have in the future. Bucky's memory, not the Winter Soldier's.
He swallowed and nodded, "This is good." When he turned to her, brown dreamy eyes made his heart beat faster. "Is the antidote ready?"
"Yes. I finished it half an hour ago." She continued observing him.
"So, err… you're from London?"
"I am. Born and raised."
"You live there?"
"I have a flat in Sutton. It's a town south of the City where some magical people like myself live." Hermione calmly answered, her eyes fixed on his face as if she wanted to remember every detail. "You?"
"Washington D.C., though Sam and I spend a lot of time back in his home town in Louisiana," Bucky smiled, remembering the long hours they spent on the sea, fishing, or training in the back garden, "Sam has family there, two nephews that are fun to be around." He saw her nod and thankfully she didn't ask him about his family. "Do you have family left?"
Hermione hesitated for a moment before talking, "Yes, my dad. My mum passed away a few years after they regained their memories."
Memories? His confusion might have shown because she explained.
"During the last year of the war, I… I erased myself from their memories and placed a wish in their minds to move to Australia."
Bucky slowed his chewing. "Can you do that?"
She bit her lower lip and looked down to her lap before confirming it with her head, "I'm not proud, but it was the only option to save them. I was a target and soon, they would've been too."
"When this morning you said you had to find them, I thought they'd been exiled," Bucky played a little with his food. "Sometimes we have to make hard and painful choices. So, I guess you were able to heal them?"
"I was. Partially. They struggled to remember everything; my dad still does. As you can imagine, he's not very happy with that."
"Memories are special. They're what make us who we are," he paid attention to one of the cheeses before deciding to smell it, scrunching his nose and eating a little of it. "I don't remember much from my previous life. It's frustrating, so I can empathise with your dad. How's he dealing with it?"
Hermione sighed, "After they forgave me, we agreed on making new memories. So, that's what we do. I try to visit him often, travel with him, and accompany him to places he wants to go."
Life is cruel, Bucky thought. If there was one woman who could understand him, it was her.
"Like where?" He focused again on his almost finished salad, the only thing left on his plate, wishing she wouldn't see his sad smile.
"Well, he loves gardening. So I took him to Alnwick Poison Garden where he carefully observed the more than 100 species of poisonous plants they have." She chuckled at his expression.
"You sure take after your dad," Bucky said as he thought of what else to ask her. "What is your favourite spell?"
Her eyes opened wide before she knowingly smiled. Hermione took her wand from its holster and pointed it towards her palm. "Frigus flammae."
Bright, blue flames came out of the tip of her wand. The flames rested on her palm, not burning her nor inflicting pain. "You can touch them."
Bucky extended his right hand with the amusement of a child. "Frigus flammae?" He asked. At her confirmation, he grinned. Magic was beautiful.
"Is your arm okay after Anthony jinxed you?" She asked as she played with the flames.
Instead of tensing, Bucky observed his left arm. Talking about his bionic arm with her felt freeing.
"Yeah. It's fine."
"I'm glad." She exhaled as the flames vanished. "Listen, Bucky. I want to thank you. Back in the plane, you took my side, then changed Ron's place because Merlin knows I would have jinxed him, and then you waited for me to jump when not even my friends did."
"Hermione. It was nothing." He kept his eyes on his plate.
She shook her head, her voice coarse with emotion. "No. You've been listening to my monologues all week, making suggestions, and even asking questions. Showing me around. You stayed while Princess Shuri and I worked in her lab… Bringing me tea, just as I take it by the way…" Her eyes were focused on her intertwined hands.
He didn't want to sound jealous but the comment came out before he could keep his mouth shut. "It was probably something your family, friends or … exes did, so it was nothing."
Hermione wistfully chuckled, averting his eyes. "That's sadly not true. You see, I'm an unspeakable. By … law… I'm bound to secrecy except to a partner by marriage. I can't share my research, my daily work, my thoughts and struggles with anyone, not even Harry or Ron."
"How come they know now?"
"They know because of this mission. Before, only Anthony and the Head of the Department did. The press mentioned our name when they published our findings on the magical gene, but we couldn't give any interview ..." Hermione exhaled again as if preparing herself, "It's a solitary profession. It was one of the reasons why Viktor and I broke up."
He raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner, too afraid to sound eager if he uttered a word.
"You know how important it is that we discovered this gene. Right?" She asked.
"Yeah. It's the reason why muggleborns are equal to purists in your world. It's … important to you. You changed your world."
Hermione tenderly smiled at him.
"I worked so hard, Bucky. I spent years with Anthony in a lab, and when not in the lab, I was researching and exhausted. From the beginning, I couldn't share anything with Viktor, except that it was important. I thought he didn't mind his lack of involvement in my professional life. But as time passed, we started sharing less and less. And after two years of relationship, he … got tired of my absence. One day, when I came back from the Ministry, he was gone. I said he broke my heart, but I'm sure I broke his before."
Bucky's face was impassive as he took the last bite of his dinner.
"Harry and Ron, they love me of course. We're best friends … What I'm trying to say is that I've felt more support from you during this last week than I've ever felt before. The circumstances are not the same, of course, but still … thank you."
What could he say to those words? It had been like second nature to him despite his trusting issues. He smiled at her and nodded. The truth was she had done so much for him too. The fact that he was able to feel and care for someone who hadn't judged him until now…
Bucky slowly let a breath out, preparing himself for what he was about to do.
"When I showed you my arm and who I was before, you didn't run away."
Hermione raised one eyebrow, "Why would I?"
"Ummm… I was an..." Bucky breathed deeply, "… an assassin, Hermione." He inhaled and exhaled again, his lips ironically smiling, too afraid to meet her eyes, "I was a brainwashed, dangerous killer. Most people would excuse themselves and leave."
She shook her head, "I don't know about other people, Bucky." He could feel her eyes on him, "I just know that when I see you, I know you are a good man. And quite honestly, you are not that different from werewolves." Hermione playfully scoffed.
"Werewolves?" At her nodding, he continued, "You have werewolves in your world?"
"Yes, and vampires, giants, house-elves, goblins and fairies… They don't exist here?"
"Not that I'm aware of." He turned towards her, finally with the courage to meet her gaze, "So, why a werewolf?"
"Well, the wolf, if not under control, is a very dangerous killer. It's in its magical nature. But, the human is a separate entity, with its own moral code. To be infected doesn't mean the human is lost. And I believe it's the same with you. A duality you share."
"You have friends that are werewolves?"
"I did. Remus Lupin taught at Hogwarts. He was my professor and Harry's dad's best friend. Sadly, he and his wife passed away during the war. And over the years I've met others too."
Bucky raised his eyebrows. "So, that's why you didn't freak out? I'm like a werewolf?"
Hermione nodded with a sheepish smile, "And Harry and Ron think so too, by the way."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes, "Of course they do."
Hermione vanished the plate and glass of water with hesitancy.
Would she leave? Was their time up? He should have eaten slower.
Bucky didn't want her to go so he did the only thing he could think of. The fingers from his human hand closed the distance and timidly held the tips of hers. Painfully avoiding her beautiful eyes. Instead, he saw her fingers immediately interlace with his. They were warm and soft. When he gathered the courage, he looked up only to see her sad smile.
She tilted her head, and to his surprise her eyes watered. "I wish so many things, Bucky."
Bucky clenched his jaw and wrapped her hand with his instead, wanting to hold her body and not permitting himself to do so. "Me too, baby doll. Me too."
God, he wished for an opportunity that he knew he would never have. Hermione, the only woman who could understand him, and accept him, had to leave.
Something in her hurting eyes made him move closer to her, his left hand drying a tear with his thumb. He then longingly caressed her neck, her cheek, her ear. Until he worriedly saw it was the vibranium one. Bucky was about to remove it when Hermione leaned in, her right hand stopping his bionic fingers from leaving her face. Her eyes were firm, almost challenging him.
Relieved by her acceptance, his mind stopped working. If it hadn't, he probably wouldn't have leaned forward and kissed her. Softly first.
By the time their first kiss ended, his mind only focused on her steady eye contact and her body arching towards him, her lips a breath away. She took the opportunity this time, their kisses instantly turning passionate.
As they both settled on the bed, Bucky wondered how he could move on from her once she left. Hermione would become a memory engraved in his soul for the rest of his life.
A/N: aawww poor Bucky. When finishing TFATWS, my husband and I wondered why they didn't name it Captain America and White Wolf at the end. But, I now think it was because Bucky hasn't completely healed. He's not ready to become White Wolf yet. What's your opinion on this?
If you haven't seen it, check the psychologist scene from TFATWS. She asks Bucky what he wants, he answers "peace". Even though Dr Raynor isn't pleased with his answer, I don't doubt he said the truth, though to get there a lot of work had to be done. That's why I made Harry say the same word as a reason to move forward. In many fanfictions, they depict Harry as an auror. Though is simpler for story purposes, deep inside me I don't buy it hehe. So my Harry will always leave that life behind, sooner or later, because for me it means he has walked away from the pain, guilt, and hero mindset.
It was also a surprise when the trio obliged me to write how they compared Bucky to a werewolf. I wasn't sure, but they insisted (rolling eyes). Let me know what you think in a review. Also, don't forget to follow this story. - Wishing you a beautiful day - Aniara27