The best word to describe the group gathered in the small lounge area just off of the Avengers Tower landing pad was sombre.

As the news had begun filtering in, gathering in intensity by the hour, of what had happened at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, they had begun appearing at this spot. And while the main lounge several floors above would have been the better choice, especially considering its size, this was where they each decided to be. It was here that they would be on hand for when their friends, their de facto family, would return home to.

Clint had been the first to appear, falling into the lounge that faced the landing pad, his head resting on the top of it as his eyes alternated between the clear blue sky and the television in the corner with its continuous news broadcast.

He'd seen his team mates attacking the Triskelion. He's watched as Thor and the Hulk grounded two massive, brand-new helicarriers. He'd heard the recording that someone had made of Steve's speech to the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel there decrying the HYDRA agents embedded within the organisation. He'd even watched, spellbound, as Thor, Harry and some guy with mechanical wings took on the third helicarrier as it was lifting off. He'd shot forward in his seat, eyes wide, as Harry poured molten lava onto one of its engines.

Tony and Nat, Clint knew, had been there as well, but they weren't seen in any of the footage. Their names were mentioned, of course, especially in conjunction with all of the classified data that was being dumped onto the web, so he knew that they were still alive.

Sometime during the broadcast, Jane, Darcy and Erik had arrived. Clint only really noticed them after the two women rushed across the room to hug a dazed-looking Pepper when she stepped out of the elevator.

Jarvis, of course, kept them updated on the team's status, and more importantly, the fact that all were alive and apparently even uninjured. The fact that all of them were wanted for questioning was also reported, not that it seemed, at least according to Jarvis, that any of them had acquiescenced to the request.

Sometime after that, Clint shifted from his seat, quickly scaling a convenient strut to perch on a small platform high above the room, as though it'd been designed especially with him in mind.

And really, it was a good thing that he had, the small lounge was quickly being overrun by the rest of the team. Matt and Jennifer arrived together, only a few minutes before Peter, Gwen and Doreen appeared.

Clint knew that, while there was some concern for their team-mates and friends, the big questions that had yet to be voiced revolved around S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fall itself. The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. worked together – Clint, Nat and Steve were, in fact, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. S.H.I.E.L.D. also had a lot of sensitive data about the team in their data banks and there was worry about what all that data being uploaded to the web meant for them.

At one point, Clint had even given in to the temptation and attempted to ring Bobbi – she was their S.H.I.E.L.D. handler, after all. The fact that he didn't get an answer was worrisome.

Matt and Peter's heads snapping towards the landing pad seconds before Jarvis spoke alerted them all to the fact that the quinjet was almost home.

As the group surged forward, Clint slid down the strut and slipped to one side. By the time that he'd done so, the quinjet's engines were cycling down and its wings were in the process of folding up and over so that the vehicle could be pulled into its proper place.

"I feel like I should be wearing a laurel wreath," Tony stated as he stepped from the quinjet's ramp, his eyes surveying the awaiting crowd.

"What are you talking about?" Pepper asked as she headed towards him to envelope him in a hug.

"A laurel wreath. To wear. You know, like a Roman Emperor coming home from war after a successful battle to find the crowds waiting to greet him and to celebrate his victory," Tony explained exasperatingly.

"Make it out of thorns or something," Clint retorted, "perhaps the spikes will pierce that head of yours and deflate it a bit."

"That's harsh, Bird-brain," Tony replied. "And where were you, anyway? We could have used you. Well, obviously not used you since we got the job done anyway, but an extra person for the bad guys to aim at never goes astray."

"On vacation," Clint replied succinctly.

"As helpful as ever," Tony replied nonplussed.

"Is he alright? What's wrong with him?" Peter asked quickly as Steve appeared, carrying an unfamiliar man in his arms.

"Who is he?" Jane asked, rushing forward.

"This is Bucky, an old friend of mine," Steve replied continuing his walk.

"Also known as the Winter Soldier," Nat added, meeting Clint's eyes.

Clint's head snapped back to the unconscious guy. He'd heard plenty of stories; one even from Nat herself. He'd thought that they were old wives' tales. Obviously not.

"I can barely feel a pulse," Jane remarked sounding alarmed, her hands at 'Bucky's' neck.

"That's because he's under the influence of a potion called the Draught of Living Death," Harry stated as he followed Steve.

"Well, that's not ominous in the slightest, is it?" Darcy asked sarcastically.

"Don't worry, There's a counter," Harry waved off. "We just needed to make sure that he stayed unconscious until we could get him some help."

"What's wrong with him?" Doreen asked.

"Bucky's been brainwashed. By HYDRA," Steve replied grimly.

"I'm guessing that's not all that they did," Matt said. "He's got a metal arm, doesn't he?"

Clint shook his head at that idea. A metal arm. And if the stories were true, it worked as well as a normal one. Or better, considering how strong it was reported to be.

Movement from quinjet's ramp had Clint switching his attention there. The guy standing there was African-American with a goatee and short, military-style haircut. This was the guy in the wings at the battle on the T.V.

"Clint Barton," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

"Sam Wilson," the guy replied, shaking Clint's hand.

"Saw what you did on T.V.," Clint remarked. "That was some fancy flying."

"You did? Thanks," Sam replied.

"How'd you get involved, anyway?" Clint asked.

"Steve," Sam replied, nodding at the man in question. "He and Nat turned up on my doorstep looking like something the cat dragged in. Apparently, they'd just survived being bombed. Anyway, I wasn't going to say 'no' when Captain America asked for my help."

Steve's raised voice interrupted their conversation just then. Clint turned to see him standing just before the elevator, the Winter Soldier still cradled in his arms.

"Everyone," Steve said. "There'll be more time to debrief later. For now, there's one piece of news that you all need to know. Obviously, this is an Avengers-level secret, so I'm trusting you all not to divulge it to anyone else until we say otherwise."

Clint saw a myriad of nods, some, like Doreen's were quite emphatic, others, like Erik's were more solemn.

"Nick Fury's alive," Steve stated simply, his eyes seeking out Clint's. "He faked his own death because of HYDRA. For now, he wants to keep it that way and we'll respect that. I just thought that you should all know."

Clint nodded to Steve before slumping against the wall. A presence appearing beside him had him looking up into Nat's face. It only took a moment of searching before he found the truth of it in her eyes.

"Tell me everything," he said.

ooo00ooo

"Are you sure about this, Tony?" Steve asked sounding completely unsure himself.

"This isn't my first rodeo," Tony replied.

At Steve's dubious look around the apartment, he continued.

"Look, this place, heck, this entire floor has been specially reinforced," Tony elaborated, moving to the closest wall and popping a panel off to show the bright silver metal hidden beneath. "This stuff is designed to contain the Hulk. And it's been tested. Thoroughly. I even built a small cabin out in the middle of nowhere for S.H.I.E.L.D. They had Bruce test it as the other guy. It held. And if it can hold him, then it can hold this guy, metal arm and all."

"Alright," Steve nodded and walked across the room to lie Bucky on the bed.

"Now what?" Tony asked. "You gonna do your hocus pocus and wake sleeping beauty here up?"

Harry tore his gaze from the man in question to look firstly at Tony and then at Steve.

"Best be prepared for anything," he warned. "His mind is fractured; there's no telling how he's going to react once I wake him."

"Jarvis, seal the room," Tony commanded.

Instantly, the door swung closed and they could hear the bolts slamming home. Steve didn't change his position from the end of Bucky's bed, his shield staying firmly on his back.

"Alright, here we go," Harry said.

Taking one particular vial from his belt pocket, he opened Bucky's mouth and poured it in. A simple, wandless spell had the man swallowing the potion. And then it was a matter of waiting.

It only took a couple of minutes before the Draught of Living Death began wearing off, evident by the slightest twitch from Bucky's hand and his chest beginning to rise and fall more quickly and normally.

And then Bucky's eyes snapped open.

Before any of the Avengers could blink, let alone speak, the Winter Soldier leapt from the bed. A fist lashed out, doubling Tony over even as a foot struck out sending Harry tumbling away. And then Bucky leapt. Steve barely had time to get his hands up before Bucky was on him, bearing him to the ground, one hand coming to wrap around his neck as Steve held off his mechanical arm.

"Bu...cky," Steve rasped.

The man's eyes narrowed slightly and Steve felt the pressure loosen slight.

"You know me!" he said. "I'm Steve. You've known me your whole life."

"No!" the Soldier shouted back and the pressure around Steve's neck increased once more.

"Think ... Bucky! Think back! We grew up together," Steve managed to get out. "In Brooklyn. You're my best friend."

Something must have triggered for Bucky suddenly froze, staring. Suddenly, he let go, and rolled away to come up sitting on the floor holding his head and he shook it violently back and forth.

Steve, meanwhile, shot out one hand, telling Harry to hold off on whatever spell he was about to shoot at Bucky's back.

"You know me," Steve said to Bucky once again.

"No! No, I don't!" Bucky disagreed but the anguish in his voice was plain for all to hear.

"You do and I think that you know that," Steve replied gently.

"Where am I?" Bucky asked, his hands coming away from his head as he looked around at the three surrounding him.

"Somewhere safe," Steve told him. "Somewhere where you can recover, find your memories again."

Once again, Bucky was shaking his head hard.

"No. They're gone. I don't remember anything," he stated harshly.

"Your memories are still in there," Harry told him. "I've seen them. We can help you get them back if you like, Bucky."

"No!" Bucky screamed. "They're gone! There's nothing of this 'Bucky' in me! I'm not him!"

"Steve? Are you sure about this?" Tony asked.

"Yes," Steve stated emphatically. "This is Bucky. My best friend. Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky. I won't abandon him; I know he's in there and if there's even a chance, then we've got to take it."

"Then it seems I've got a call to make," Harry said and immediately vanished from the room with the barest pop.

ooo00ooo

Today may have been an extremely long one, even by Hermione's standards, but Hermione practically skipped through the door of her apartment.

Finally, after so many failed attempts, stalls, slides backwards and days on end when it seemed it would never ever happen, the Wizengamot had not only accepted her Bill of Equal Magical Species into the day's proceedings but had debated it and then, miracle of miracles, passed it.

Oh, there was now a whole host of work before her but the hardest part was done: all intelligent magical species – witch, wizard, goblin, dwarf, house elf, centaur, merman – were now considered equal. At least in terms of the law. There was still getting that accepted in society, having representatives from each species accepted onto the Wizengamot and in Diagon Alley, really the list was enough to fill rolls and rolls of parchment.

This, however, was what Hermione had been working on ever since she'd entered the Ministry after finishing at Hogwarts. Kingsley had supported her the whole way, not that he ever expected it to happen, she knew, no matter how much he tried to hide his true feelings.

Hermione all but bounced into her kitchen to pour herself a celebratory glass of wine. Her hand paused at the glasses and she wished that she could share this with the person who had had such a hand in this coming about.

Harry.

His 'gutting' of the Wizengamot's Pro-Pureblood faction the last time he was in England had allowed her to work on the Light side and the Moderates to get enough supporters to have her Bill introduced and consequently passed. But, of course, he was still in America.

Flopping onto her couch, she plopped her feet up on her coffee table, not something that she would ordinarily do, but right then, she was too happy to care. A flick of a button turned the T.V. on. And then she rocketed forward on her chair, her legs coming down and a splash of her wine slopping over the edge of her glass.

The Avengers were there. On the screen. Attacking a S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier! The camera panned to show Mage, obviously on his broom, his wand extended as he poured molten lava onto one of its engines.

The ringing of her phone was nearly lost to her as she stared at the footage. Somehow, though, the sound must have gotten through for Hermione managed to find her feet and make her way over to it. She fumbled somewhat with the phone, her eyes focussed as they were on the T.V.

"Hello?" she said absently.

"Hi, Hermione!"

The familiar voice had her blinking furiously before she stared between it and the television.

"Harry?" she asked quickly.

"Yep. It's good to hear your voice. How are you?" he said as though he wasn't doing anything dangerous in the slightest.

And then it cliked. The footage on the T.V. wasn't live.

"Harry! Are you alright? What's going on? Where you really attacking a helicarrier? With lava? Where'd you learn such a dangerous spell?" she blurted.

"Hey, slow down 'Mione," Harry laughed. "I'm fine. I'm guessing that you heard what happened, then?"

"I'm looking at it now," she said, still staring as the helicarrier began to nose dive towards the river below. "What happened? When did it happen?'

"This morning. Our time. Which would have been early this afternoon for you," Harry replied. "As to what happened, the short version is that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been infiltrated by HYDRA. Um, you do know who HYDRA is, don't you?"

"Yes, Harry, I know who HYDRA is," she replied sarcastically. Then, "but I thought they were an evil science group from World War Two."

"Yeah, well, it seems that they've been hiding for the past seventy years. Inside S.H.I.E.L.D. And they were about to launch helicarriers with a mission to kill a couple of million people. So, you see why we had to do something?" Harry said.

Hermione shook her head. Harry's short version left something to be desired.

"At least you seem to have learnt your lesson and actually called me this time to tell me that you're alright," she said. "You are alright, aren't you?"

"Yep. Not a scratch," Harry said before his voice turned serious. "Actually, that brings me to the other reason I called."

"Oh?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Yeah. It's one of Steve's friends from back before he was frozen. HYDRA did something to him to make him survive all this time and also really messed with his mind at the same time," Harry said. "I've taken a peek and it's a real mess in there."

"You? You used legilimency? When did you learn that?" Hermione asked.

"On my travels," he replied and she could see his shrug. "But I only know the basics. And what Bucky needs is a proper Mind Healer."

"O-kay," Hermione said. "But why ring me? I'm sure that there are Mind Healers in the States."

"Probably are," Harry agreed. "But none that I know or trust."

Hermione's mind instantly leapt to the only Mind Healer that Harry might be aware of.

"You don't mean ..." she asked.

"Yep," Harry agreed.

"But ..." she began.

"I'm not Ron, Hermione," Harry stated. "And this is for Steve's best friend. Besides, she was there at the Battle. She didn't run despite what the consequences could be. I know that I can trust her."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Yes. Please, Hermione. Just ask her. For me," he pleaded.

"Alright," she sighed.

"Brilliant!" he said. Then, "so, how was your day?"

Hermione could instantly see that he was trying to change the topic away from the dangerous escapades that he'd just been involved in and she almost almost didn't let him get away with it. If it had been any other day ...

"It's been amazing!" she said. "You'll never guess what happened."

"Yeah? Tell me everything," Harry said.

Settling herself back onto the lounge, Hermione picked up her glass of wine. Harry might not be there to enjoy her success with her, but this was surely the next best thing.

"Do you remember me telling you about my Equal Magical Species Bill?" she began.

ooo00ooo

"Were you not able to procure a Healer for Steve's friend, Seidhr?" Thor asked, sounding concerned.

Harry looked up from his phone, the frown that he was giving it still on his face.

"What?" he asked.

"The Doctor that you were going to arrange for Bucky," Steve clarified. "I'm guessing that you weren't able to find one?"

"Oh, no. That's all taken care of. At least, it should be. Hermione's going to ask the Mind Healer I know in Britain to come over," Harry replied.

"Then what's got you all down, Magic Man?" Darcy asked.

Harry shot her a Look; having Tony calling him any number of names other than his own was bad enough without Darcy adding to it.

"It's Skye," he eventually replied. "She's not answering her phone, which is really not like her."

"Skye? You mean that girl that's working with Phil?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied as he noticed Nat and Clint sharing a grim look with each other. "What is it?"

"You guys battled HYDRA at the Triskelion. What's the odds that HYDRA's embedded everywhere within S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Clint asked.

"You're thinking that we sparked a mass 'revolution'? And that Phil's been caught up in it, aren't you?" Nat half-asked, half-stated.

"I can't get a hold of Bobbi, either," Clint replied with a shrug.

"Stark?" Steve said.

"On it," Tony replied, having moved to the nearest computer console, his hands beginning to blur over the keyboard.

"Don't bother, Tony," Bruce called. "I think we already know the answer."

As Bruce turned up the volume on the T.V., those farthest away drifted closer to better hear what the news reporter was saying.

"This morning's battle between the Avengers and the world's premier spy agency, the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, at