Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Marvel or the characters therein. Nor, sadly, do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

Read! Dance like a Solid Gold Dancer! Laugh at your own silliness! Enjoy! Review!

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The Foster Mum

Hermione awoke to total chaos in her sitting room. James, Steve, and Sam were trying (and failing) to deal with three children. The eldest of the three was a boy about eleven or twelve, the second was a girl about five or six, and the third was a tiny baby who she only knew was a girl thanks to the blanket swaddling the near on newborn.

Walking out into the sitting room, she found two of the children crying their hearts out, and the third sitting silently with tears dripping down their face. Rubbing her face, she went over to the eldest, and hugged them. Rubbing their back, she remained silent.

"What's your name, darling?"

"M-Mike," he breathed. "M-my mom and dad…T-they were killed."

"I'm so sorry," she sighed, running her hand through his dark brown hair. "I know it hurts. It's the worse hurt in the world."

"How would you know?" he demanded.

"My parents were killed too," she breathed.

Mike deflated at those words. "T-they were good people."

"I'm sure they were," she murmured, making him look her in the eyes. "I know this is going to sound mean. But please, don't take it as such, okay?"

He nodded.

"Your sister—the one that's crying her little lungs out right now—we need to find a way to calm her down." She blushed. "Is the baby a boy or a girl?"

He snickered. "A girl. She has a pink blanket!"

"I didn't want to presume anything. Sorry."

"It's okay," he murmured.

"And your other sister isn't doing too well either. We need to help them both calm down before they make themselves ill. Okay?"

"Okay," he whispered. "You never told me what your name was."

"What?" She ended up yawning. "Terribly sorry. I'm still half asleep." Rubbing her eyes, she answered, "I'm Hermione Granger-Barnes."

It was with wide, shocked eyes that Mike whispered, "You're Hermione Granger?"

"Have you heard of me?"

"You're a member of the Golden Trio!"

"Very good," she said, absently taking the wailing infant from Sam. "Be a love and see what you can do about getting bottles and nappies for the baby, Sam?"

"On it!" Sam said, running away from them to see the chore done.

Hermione put the baby onto the lounge and was in the middle of swaddling the baby when the little girl went over to her, tugging on her shirt.

"I have to go potty."

"Okay," she murmured, as she picked up the baby once again and was rubbing the tiny infant's back.

Standing up, she handed the baby off to James. "What sounds good for breakfast?" She looked down to the little girl. "You never told me your name. And it would be silly of me to keep saying little girl all the time. Because there's a lot of little girls out in the world."

That only gained her a small, tight smile and little else. "I'm Winston Churchill."

"You look very young and a girl to be he," Hermione pointed out to her, as they were walking over to the bathroom.

The little girl's eyes went wide. "You know who he is?"

"Seeing as he was the former Prime Minister of my country way back in the day, yes."

"Oh." She sighed. And went on to say before they left the sitting room, "I'm Elizabeth Warren."

"At least she picked a girl this time," Steve said, making Hermione smile at his comment.

"She gets points for choosing an American as well," James murmured.

Their words had the girl blushing. "My name is boring."

"Let's hear it," Hermione told her, smiling kindly. "We won't know until we hear it."

"Rosie."

"That's a beautiful name," Hermione said, as she opened the door to the bathroom, letting her into it. "And I bet she named you after someone really important." Shutting the door behind the little girl, she waited until she heard the little girl's attempts to wash her hands. Going into the restroom, she held her up and said, "You haven't said whom you were named after yet."

Splashing the water, she announced, "Rosie the Riveter!"

Hermione set her back onto her feet and was looking at the little girl intently, saying nothing.

Lowering her head, she answered, "My granny."

"Your mother must have loved her mother, your granny, very much," Hermione murmured, leaning in close. "Dare I say it, more than likely nearly as much as she loved you."

Tears welled in the little girl's eyes. "I want my mommy."

"I know, love." Pulling the little girl into her arms. "I know." Rubbing her back, she rocked the girl. Scooping her up off of her feet, she carried her out to where the others were. "Okay, that's Mike, you're Rosie, but what's your sister's name?"

"Lucrezia Borja," Rosie answered.

Steve and Bucky looked to each other, with the first stating, "Say what you will about her picking the wrong names, at least she knows her history."

"Rosie!" Mike snapped at his sister. "Her name is Lucy!"

"But it's so boring!" Rosie said dramatically.

"Sweetie, whom did your mom name her after?" Hermione asked quietly.

"My auntie Lucinda," she murmured, looking about ready to start crying again. Sniffling she whispered, "Mommy loved her too. And she wanted to remember her when she looked at our Lucy." Lying her head on Hermione's shoulder, she breathed, "I miss her too."

Hermione could only rub her back and rock her, as no words would heal—no matter how well meaning they would be.

…

Steve and Bucky ended up making the children a simple lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup. This was something they, with the exception of the baby, partook in. Hermione fed Lucy her bottle, as James fed his wife bites of food.

"So how is it that you know all those historical names?" Steve asked Rosie.

"Daddy used to read us history books," she whispered, looking about ready to cry again. "He didn't like picture books much. Said we weren't learning much from the muggles who wrote them."

Hermione's head snapped up and was looking at the children. "Mike?" He looked over to her. "Are you Purebloods or half-blood?"

"Half-blood," he answered quietly, looking to the others there uncomfortably. "We can't speak about…" He lowered his voice and said, "…you know what in front of…" He pointed to Steve and Bucky. "…you know other people!"

Rolling her eyes, she looked over to Steve. "I am so sorry for what I am about to do." He frowned, as she went on with, "But know it's for a good cause." Turning to Rosie, she said, "Rosie, do you know who this man is? It's Captain America."

Both Mike's and Rosie's eyes went wide at those words, even as James snickered. "That was evil, sweetheart."

"I know," she sighed, handing the baby over to him. "I have to make a few calls, but I'll be back straight away."

Leaning down he kissed her, gaining a few groans from the two older kids. The two were grinning at each other, as he said, "And you want how many?"

"As many as we can handle," she murmured.

"Something tells me one may be our limit," he muttered, looking down into the curious gaze of the baby's wandering eyes. "What do you think, pretty girl?" This only had her smiling gummily, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Infants, it would seem, aren't any more immune to your charms than I," Hermione said dramatically, as she made her leave.

James blushed, looking over to a wickedly smiling Steve. Without his longtime friend saying a word the former Winter Soldier cleared his throat, muttering, "Shut up."

…

The children had no one. Their parents had been killed by a wizard that had been seeking personal revenge against the family. What little she was able to discover was that it had been a long lasting blood feud that was older than even the adults taking care of them—this included Steve and James. Why this was the case, no one was certain. The only sure thing they knew was that this left the children alone in the world.

In the end, Hermione sat the two older children down and went about asking them if they would be interested in staying with them.

"You'd get your own rooms," Hermione told them. "I'll introduce you to our family. And if you want, they can be your family too."

Tears welled in Mike's eyes, as he asked, "Really?"

"Really," Hermione assured him.

"You won't make us change our names?" Rosie asked.

"Why would I want to do that?" Hermione inquired. "If and when the day comes that you want us to adopt you formally, you'll have the choice to keep your name." She smiled. "Or you can do what I did when I got married."

"What did you do?" Mike asked.

"I still have my own last name," she told them. "But I hyphenated it and added my husband's name. I go by Hermione Granger-Barnes."

Mike and Rosie looked to each other and back over to her, eyes wide with wonder. Clearly, they didn't know that this could be an option.

"I just want you all to be happy," Hermione told them quietly. "But I know that when the day comes, whenever that may be, if you choose to add James's and my name to yours, we'd be so honored." She went over to them, kneeling between them. "It wouldn't mean that you were forgetting your parents or other family. I think it would be more along the lines of adding to it."

"Michael Hrabar-Barnes." The boy tried saying it to see what it sounded like.

"Rosalyn Hrabar-Barnes," Rosie whispered, trying out the name herself. "It's still a little boring, but it beats what it used to be."

"Do you know what Hrabar means?" Hermione asked her.

"She doesn't," Mike muttered.

"You don't know either!" Rosie accused her brother.

"Rosie," Hermione said, her voice firm but soft. "Calm down. Any argument where you lose your cool, is an argument lost."

Blinking at those words, Rosie said, "Huh?"

"It means if you get upset and forget to use your words, you'll sound stupid and lose the fight," Mike told her.

"Oh," Rosie said, clearly impressed by what Hermione had told her once her brother had explained it.

"But like I asked, do you know what your last name means, Rosie?" Hermione repeated her question.

"No," she whispered.

"It means 'brave' in Czech. And for what it's worth, I think you two are pretty brave," Hermione murmured. "If you want, we can all learn how to speak Czech. That's if you want. It must be important to your family, if that's your last name."

Neither one wanted to do that, so that topic was tabled—for the time being. Who knows, Hermione thought, they might change their minds.

…

They ended up moving apartments within the building. James was away with the team, leaving her alone with the children. She kept asking them questions about what they liked to eat, how they wanted their rooms decorated, and just about anything else that came to mind.

She had a special meal sent up to the flat of pizza and root beer, telling them that's an American tradition for a meal when one moves into a flat. This had Mike smiling, and Rosie asking her if she had done it before.

"Once," she informed her, as she passed the plate of pizza to her. Hearing Lucy fussing via the monitoring system that Tony had set up, she went over to the room and brought her back with her. "Just once did I have the chance to do as much. It was my first night in my first flat, but I was alone. Needless to say, this is so much more fun!"

…

When Bucky arrived home at two in the morning, it was to a very quiet apartment. Frowning, he went over to the master bedroom to see Hermione with the baby on her chest, Rosie on one side, and Mike on the other—and all of them were sound asleep.

Smiling to himself, he went over and kissed his wife's head.

"Oh James, you're home," she breathed, looking around at the children. "Can you take the baby to her cot?"

Without saying anything, he scooped up the baby and did as she asked. Meanwhile, she picked up Rosie and took her over to her own bed. It was while she was putting her to bed that the little girl woke up.

"Mmm…movie?"

"We'll watch it tomorrow," she cooed. "Now sleep."

"And if I have a nightmare?"

"Do you want a night light?" Hermione asked her.

"Yes, please."

Hermione magically set out fairy lights throughout the room. The sight had Rosie letting out a soft sigh as she drifted off to sleep.

She left the room and went over to Mike's room to see that James was doing an inspection with a very attentive little boy watching him. Walking over to Mike, she silently tucked him into the bed.

"Want a night light?"

"Yes, please."

Again she set out the magical fairy lights. Mike smiled to himself, as he too fell back to sleep.

Once they were in bed, James asked, "So? How did it go today?"

"So far, so good," she murmured, snuggling up to him. "They're still getting the lay of the land as it were." She yawned. "Good night, James. Don't be shocked if we end up with them in our bed tonight."

And as predicted, that's exactly where they ended up—even the baby—Rosie brought her over when she herself arrived, saying Lucy was lonely. Shrugging, they allowed them to pile in and all went fast asleep.

TBC…

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That sure was a long one! I hope you enjoyed it. Take care and may all your dreams come true. Have a great day, everyone!