WE'RE GETTIN' CLOSE TO PART FOUR NOW

*coughs* Sorry. I'm just excited, is all.

Part Three: In Which

Chapter Nine: People Leave for Places Unknown

Harry walks in on the butt end of a conversation early in February. Steve stands strong and tall, facing the floor to ceiling window that looks out across the Manhattan skyline. The line between his muscled shoulders is taught and he holds his phone tightly enough for the whites of his knuckles to show stark and white.

"Yes, sir," he says, seemingly unaware of Harry's arrival, 'but what of- I see." He breathes out slow and his face is so close to the glass that he fogs it, "Yessir. Rumlow? I've heard he's pretty good; it'll be good to work with new people."

Harry wavers where he stands, unsure if he should be party to this conversation. He shifts to turn towards the kitchen, but Steve half-turns and gives him a little half wave. Harry sighs and throws himself down upon the ridiculously comfortable sofa and waits as the supersoldier continues talking to (presumably) SHIELD.

"How long?" an extended pause and Steve sighs heavily again, "Right, I understand… No, I'd rather not stay at the Triskellion. Yes. Yes. Okay." He glances back at Harry, and puffs out his cheeks. Harry muffles a laugh into the leather of the couch, "Yessir. I'm sorry sir, but I have to go. Yes sir, tomorrow morning."

The speaker on the other side must hang up, because Steve lets out a long, drawn-out groan.

"Fury?"

"Yes. He wants Natasha and I to be stationed in DC for a while," he replies, and collapses onto the couch too, his big arms flopping down on either side like they weigh a tonne.

Harry raises a brow and rolls onto his back, "How long?"

"He didn't know. But I think it's gonna be a while."

He stays quiet for a time, mulling on that answer, "Well then," he doesn't want Steve to go, but it's not exactly his place to ask him to stay, even if they are friends, "did he tell you why?"

Steve shrugs, "He said it was because he wanted me to start working with his strike force- the men on the team are skilled at what they do…. But who knows with Fury. He could have a million and one reasons for wanting to keep me there, and he's gonna keep 'em all close to his chest… We leave tomorrow morning."

Harry hums and takes note of the emptiness in his chest, "You hungry?"

Steve gives him a wry smile, "Always."

It's… well, it's not exactly boring without Steve and Natasha, but it's certainly less interesting without them around. Harry's known for a long time that there's little for him to actually do here. Short of starting his own vigilante justice empire or a black-market supply of magitech, there's not terribly much he can offer himself for in the tower. And he and Hermione may have decades of shared past between them, but their interests and talents were worlds apart (not to mention she had Tony Stark to satiate/entertain). Even Draco seems put out by their absence- though Harry's sure that's moreso because of Natasha than it is Steve.

It only takes a week of sitting on his arse, glued to Netflix, before he breaks and starts looking for work. Two weeks and no short amount of deflecting and ass-kissing and genuflection later (and probably some sly wrangling on Stark's/Jarvis' part, if he's honest) and he miraculously manages to land himself a cashier job in a twenty-four hour convenience store several suburbs away. His employer is a middle-aged woman who smiles too little and pays cash in hand. She doesn't ask questions, which is fine by Harry, because he's not entirely sure how he'd answer them anyway.

It's a long way down from Head Auror, but it's something, and honestly Harry just enjoys playing the role of surly teenager again. It's considerably more enjoyable when there's no threat of death and destruction hanging over his head.

Stark blatantly disapproves of the venture, but Hermione finds the whole thing infinitely amusing; though it takes her a month before she comes to see him. She laughs when she finds him- chewing on gum with a meticulously cultured bored expression on his face, selling booze and cigarettes and poptarts to the late night customers.

"My, how the mighty have fallen," she smirks, nodding to his uniform and name badge, "Dudley. Really?"

"It seemed fitting," Harry replies, popping his gum obnoxiously. "Think I shoulda made myself ugly too. S'not like anyone's gonna remember my name anyway."

She quirks a brow, "With a name like Dudley, I think they're bound to."

He grins at her, "Do you want something, 'Mione?"

"Not really," she shrugs, "though I suppose I should buy a few of your least healthy things, just to torment Tony a little more." Tony had been largely horrified by Harry's job search- had tried to offer him a job in the tower to appease him but Harry was having none of that. He wanted an honest to God job- one that he should have had in his actual teenagerdom. One that wasn't in the tower.

"Well, the least healthy'd have to be the cigarettes, but I'd have to ID you for that."

"Mm, I'd rather not give Tony any more vices than he already has."

"Then twinkies are always a good bet. I'm not entirely sure what it is about Americans and those things, but they love their- oh! Actually, grab that can of whipped cream- second aisle, down near then end. That'll clog up your arteries real good."

The corners of her lips twitch in amusement, "You're taking this job seriously, I see."

He snorts, "This is only the first half of the shift. Things get real interesting later." He leans in close, eyes wide and his friend moves closer in response, "That's when the stoners come in. And Christ, they're so much fun!"

Hermione lets out a startled laugh, "I'll have to take your word for that."

"You don't understand; a week ago I had a guy coming in asking to pet my hair. He gave me a bead for my dreadlocks."

"… You don't have dreadlocks."

"I know!Hermione, this job is awesome."

"Do you still have the bead?"

He pulls out the fine chain with the symbol of the Deathly Hallows on it. A large, clumsily carved bone bead sits next to it. Hermione nods in faked appreciation, "That is really something."

"Right!?"

"I think I'll take Darcy with me next time."

"You should. I'm sure she'd appreciate this more than you." She nods absently, and wanders down the aisles, picking up an assortment of pointless items along the way.

"Doctor Pepper ice-cream syrup," she muses loud enough for Harry to hear, "I wonder what that's like."

"I don't know, but I really want an Irn-Bru syrup because of it."

"Mm," she hums, "I'd buy it."

He smirks. When she returns to the counter, she's carrying an armful of products Harry mostly reserves for the drunk and the hopelessly single; ice-cream, the syrup, the can of whipped cream, a small bottle of hand sanitizer and instant noodles. He raises a brow, "Trouble in paradise?"

Hermione just gives him The Look, "Harry, you live with me. There's always trouble in paradise."

He snickers, "C'mon; Tony accounts for at least sixty percent."

She rolls her eyes, "Try eighty."

He wiggles his eyebrows and brings up her account, "That's twenty-three eighty-five."

She passes over the shiny black credit card with Tony's name embossed in gold. It's probably never been used to pay for something so plebeian. He says as much but Hermione just hums, "I don't know," she says softly, eyes turning fond, "he surprises me, sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Okay, most of the time."

He changes her money over and she leaves with a smile and a wave, disappearing out the door. Harry muses on how happy the how the displacement has ultimately made her. He's glad; Hermione hasn't been happy- properly happy- for a long time. For a brief moment- in between her hair vanishing out of sight and the swish of doors as another customer walks in, he wonders if it's going to stay this way.

He hopes so. This is the life they always should have had.

THANK-YOUUUU to everyone who left a comment in previous chapters. You're all AMAZING

:3