Some questions are answered, but more are left to take their place.
March 18th 2016; 1145 Hours
"We have a match." Skye says triumphantly when they reconvene at the Playground. She looks like she's almost vibrating with enthusiasm. Bucky isn't entirely sure if it's appropriate. From what he can remember, the girl had been enslaved.
His misgivings must show on his face, because she flushed a clear her throat awkwardly, "I mean- we've got a match." She delivers it this time in a more serious tone. Her body shifts, evidently wanting to lead them through to the conference room.
"Where is everyone?" Natasha purrs unnecessarily; they all know that Coulson must be dying to give them a debriefing. Skye leads them off deeper into the Playground. The conference room (which isn't exactly big) is already filled with Coulson's lot. They pack themselves into the room, finding places to fit in with minimal fuss (well, except for Stark, but the man was a drama queen at the best of times). Clint perches himself on top of a filing cabinet like it's a thing he does everyday (although to be fair, it probably is). Bucky is reminded of sardines. Deadly sardines. With guns.
"So what have we got?" Steve asks the moment everyone is settled.
Coulson sighs heavily, "What we've got is a diplomatic nightmare." He motions behind him and Skye brings up a missing persons report on the holographic screen. Bucky blinks; for a moment he could have sworn the picture of the woman had moved.
"Hermione Granger." Clint reads out from his perch. He frowns thoughtfully, "Why does that make her a nightmare?"
"That would be because of me."
The effect on the room is instantaneous; at least ten weapons are drawn and aimed at the newcomer. The young man raises his arms, unphased by the number of guns pointed his way, "Wow. Okay. Glad none of you are trigger happy, I guess."
"Who are you?" Agent May demands. The man tilts his head, looking at her queerly. He snorts softly.
"Sorry; it's been a while since someone hasn't recognised me."
Eyebrows rise in what must the 80 percent of the room. The man's lips twitch like he's trying to stop himself from laughing.
Coulson sighs again, "Auror Potter, thank-you for coming at such short notice."
The mirth fades away, but a small, self-depreciating smile remains, "Head Auror now. I got promoted."
Coulson blinks, "Congratulations."
"Thanks." His eyes stray to the image of the Granger girl- she must be in her teens in that image, but it is unmistakably the Morrigan, "That's the old poster of Hermione."
The Director sighs, "Yes." He motions around the room- no one's lowered their weapons, "Stand down. Head Auror Potter is an ally; he's been SHIELD's liaison with Wizarding Britain for a few years."
"A few years? Try a decade." Coulson shrugs, "And call me Harry. Or at least Potter. Head Auror Potter is three syllables too long."
Skye gapes (she's not the only one), and glares at Coulson, "Wizarding? Wizarding?! Have you been holding out on me again? Phil, please tell me you're talking about actual magic here."
Bucky shares a look with Natalia.
Stark snorts derisively, "So you're telling us you're what? A wizard? You gonna wave your magic stick around and read to us from a magic book?"
"Oh yeah, sure." Potter remarks dryly. Bucky gets the sense this isn't the first time he's gone through this, "I can do all kinds of things. You wanna see me pull a rabbit out a hat, too?"
Stark doesn't reply, but Bucky can see the retort lying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting.
Potter's eyes travel around the room, searching for a place to sit (there isn't any, naturally. The newcomer doesn't seem to mind terribly much). His eyes linger particularly on Clint, perched as he is on the cabinet. A smirk lingers in the lines of his mouth, but disappears quickly enough.
"You said you had information about Hermione?"
Coulson clears this throat. He looks almost nervous, "We have reason to believe that we've found her."
Whatever colour had been in the younger man's face disappears. He breathes shakily through his nose. Mack offers the Englishman his chair and he all but collapses into it, "You found her." He breathes. A hand rises to rub at his jaw, "Oh Merlin you've found her." He looks up sharply, his bright green eyes sharp and keen, "Is she alive?"
Skye, lurking behind the Director, cringes, "We think so?"
Potter's eyes narrow, and whatever benign look that had hung around the man disappears, "You think?"
The British half of the FitzSimmons duet (he's still not entirely sure which one she is) pipes up before a diplomatic nightmare turns into a reality, "We're going through the all of the relevant information we have on her now." The woman says reassuringly, with all of her wide-eyed sincerity, "But we discovered her in a cryogenic tank. Cryogenics are a dangerous and complicated procedure. Even with our solid understanding of the process, we can't be sure, if we took her out if she'd even wake up."
"Cryogenic tank…" Potter echoes in shock.
She smiles at him kindly, "Cryogenics are-"
"-I know what cryogenics are!" Potter snaps. Fitz/Simmons flushes and he purses his lips apologetically, looking back down and his knees, "Sorry, I'm just kind of invested in this. Hermione was my best friend. We fought through a war together."
To his right, Steve shifts. Bucky can imagine what's going through his head right now.
The wizard looks back up, "Why is she in cryo?"
"It's... ah. How they stored her, per se. In between missions."
"Stored her." Potter says flatly. His lips curl back in an angry snarl, "Like a piece of meat."
Bucky wonders if this was what Steve was like when he found out about the ice.
Coulson raises a hand to halt the conversation before it could derail any further, "Please, Auror Potter. I invited you to the debriefing because I thought you would have some valuable information to add to this discussion. Any and all of your questions should be answered."
The lines of Potter's shoulders grow taught for a long moment, before he sighs heavily and leans back into his chair. The creases around his face are pronounced and troubled. Bucky wonders what exactly the Morrigan was to him all those years ago, "Of course," he says, rubbing at his face with his left hand. Bucky catches sight of a pale line of scarring cutting across the skin before the man drops it back into his lap. Strange; for a moment he almost thought it looked like words, "Carry on. The DMLE will do whatever it can to help."
Coulson smiles- a small thing, barely a smile at all- and Skye emerges from behind him like nothing had ever happened, "Agent Skye will be happy to fill you in."
"Ah- right," she fiddles with something on her tablet and the screen behind her lights up with a new image of a satellite image of a featureless stretch of forest. She clears her throat, "In 2001, SHIELD investigated reports of an explosion of extreme magnitude originating from a remote area in Papua New Guinea. SHEILD agents found the remnants of a secret lab- largely destroyed by the explosion. No survivors were found.
"Our agents were unable to recover the data from the labs computers- it was concluded at a later date that the explosion that had wiped out all of its inhabitants had also cleaned the hard drives- most likely through some kind of EMP wave; however a significant amount of the labs records were able to be retrieved as hardcopies, in a section of the lab that had avoided the worst of the blast.
"Of particular interest was the subject codenamed 'The Morrigan'. No information could be found pertaining to her origins, and the notes regarding her experimentation and blending with the serum remained unaccounted for, however photographs and notes of her successful blending turned up time and time again. From what SHIELD could garner, the lab in PNG was a subsidiary branch of a larger group- most likely originating in Eastern Europe, which had been operating since the mid-1950s. The lab that was discovered had likely been constructed in the 1980s.
"By the end of the SHIELD inquest, it was concluded that the explosion had been caused by a subject who, upon being blended with the supersoldier serum had become unstable. The resulting explosion had wiped out most of the facility, and killed all complex life forms in a hundred and fifty foot radius."
Beside him, Steve sighs heavily, "It always comes down to the super-soldier serum, doesn't it?"
Skye bites her lip. Natasha's eyes narrow, "Why wasn't the incident investigated further? SHIELD's policy on the serum and its offshoots are clear. And the ability to wipe out life in a radius that large would surely have drawn some heat from the World Security Council."
"About that…" Skye fiddles with her tablet some more, and old SHIELD personnel files of Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins appear on the screen. Steve sucks in a sharp breath, "Turns out, these two were head of the security detail. In fact, most of the agents sent to take care of the place were known affiliates of Hydra. The investigation, inquest and reports themselves were all signed and approved by Alexander Pierce. Chances are Director Fury never even knew about it, let along the WSC. Most of these files we only found post data dump- as you'd well know."
Natasha inclines her head, satisfied with the response.
"That's all well and good," Potter says, frowning at the stoic faces of Rumlow and Rollins, "But what's this got to do with Hermione? Are you saying that she was there? Or that she took part in the experiments?"
Skye shifts uncomfortably; she looks extremely troubled, "Well, then we have this-" she pulls up a video file, "We found this in one of the Hydra archives in Italy a few months ago. Prior to today, I had no context for the footage- thanks for that, Coulson-" Coulson rolls his eyes, "it was only labelled 'subject 135'; just thrown in with a pile of junk, presumably meant for disposal."
She clicks on the file and the video plays. It's low quality and old- has obviously been converted digitally at some point. In the grainy image, a woman is pulled into the room. Her arms are tied behind her back, judging from the awkward way her chest thrusts out. She struggles against the men that hold her arms, eyes wide. Her mouth is gagged.
"Miss Granger." A man says from behind the camera. His accent is Scottish. Her eyes latch onto him- just above and to the right of the camera. There is no recognition on her face.
One of the men holding her tears off the gag. She snarls at him and he backhands her viciously. The force of it sends her sprawling to the concrete floor. When she looks back up, her nose is bleeding and there is blood on her teeth.
"What do you want with me?" she spits out. Her fury is incandescent.
A cold laugh, "Not what you think."
She laughs- high pitched and bitter, "I doubt that."
The voice steps around the camera, closer to the woman. The man is short, painfully thin. His hair is bone white and cropped short. She pulls herself awkwardly into a kneeling position. The hand of one of her captors prevents her from rising further.
"I won't tell you anything."
"I don't want you to tell my anything. It's only a happy coincidence that brings you here, my dear. But you will be of use, I am sure."
Her eyes widen and she attempts to draw back, appalled. The old man laughs, "I thought you might do that. I've heard tell you are a proficient legilimens. In my line of work such barriers have been pointless."
The girl sobs, "All those people! All that death! You're a monster."
The man hums, unaffected, "We sacrifice much for the price of progress, my dear."
She keens and sags in the other men's hold, "Oh God- your son!"
This time he slaps her. She cries out at the pain but does not fall. When he speaks, his voice is calm and collected, "Was not strong enough. But… perhaps you will be the one, my dear." He pulls a stick from his sleeve.
She shakes her head, the terror on her face clear as day, even on the grainy footage, and begins to struggle valiantly against her captors and the strip of wood at her head, "No- please. No- HARR-"
"Subtranaturius memoria."
Like a switch being thrown, her face goes blank and serene. She sags in their arms again and Bucky watches as two thick columns of what looks like a silvery gas come out from her eyes, intertwining into a glittery rope. Following the direction of the man's wand, they float through the air and he guides them carefully into a large glass flask. In the lull of silence, he stoppers the flask and labels it, moving away from the camera momentarily to place it somewhere.
She looks up in confusion when he returns. The old man caresses her face. The action is almost tender, "I don't… I… where am I?"
The man pockets his wand and draws away, "You are with Project Koschei, my child. I am Doctor Sinclair. You volunteered to be a part of this bold new endeavour; don't you remember?"
She looks, bewildered, at the two men that stand on either side of her. They've moved away, and she pulls her arms around, rubbing at the remnants of marks on her wrists, "Yes, of course, Doctor. How silly of me."
"It is of no consequence my dear. Now, you must get up. There is much that must be done in preparation."
She stands- docile and calm- her eyes falling on the camera, and the footage goes black.
The room is quiet.
To his right, Potter is crying silently.
A/N: So, I did make up the memory spell, for those who were wondering. And spent like, an hour deliberating on what to actually call it. :I Its effect on memory will be discussed in future chapters! :)