Bewitched by You (A Marvel/Harry Potter Crossover) COMPLETED

Chapter Six: Memories Old & New

"Stop, stop," Hermione said, her gaze on the map open in her hands.

Reacting instantly, Bucky slammed on the brakes, rocking them both forward a bit in their seats as the rusty bucket of bolts they were riding in jerked to a halt. He bit his lip to hold in an apologetic laugh as he glanced over at her . . . only to find the witch shooting him a withering look.

"Uh, sorry."

With a shake of her head, she cleared her throat and showed him the blinking spot of red on the parchment. "See there?" She pointed out the window, beyond the thick expanse of trees lining the otherwise vacant road. "We have to go that way."

He nodded, easing his foot off the brake. Making a u-turn, he parked the car several yards back up the road. They retrieved their packs from the trunk, but he held onto the keys and made a mental note of the location in context to where they were headed—just in case they needed a ride, again . . . and provided no helpful passersby called in to have the poor heap of metal towed away.

He also did quite well holding in a snicker when she referred to the trunk of the car as the boot. He wasn't going to question whether he simply thought Britishisms amusing, or if he found them cute because she was the one saying them.

The trek into the woods to reach their destination was a bit further than Hermione's original estimation. "Likely half an hour," she'd said.

She would swear the spot was moving further into the woods the closer they got to it. By the end of the second hour of hiking—Merlin only knew where the bloody hell they were by now—she found herself randomly filling Bucky in on all the wonderful films of her childhood on which he'd missed out.

There were benefits to being a witch with a Muggle home life.

"So wait," Bucky said, stopping in his tracks after they pushed past some brush. "You're telling me that this guy who trained for only five years beat someone who'd been training for twenty? And training with revenge on his mind?"

"Some people are quick studies."

"I don't buy it," he said as he started forward, again.

Hermione's shoulders slumped as she fell into step beside him. "Oh, c'mon. Look, maybe it's because neither of them really wanted to kill the other. One was saving his ire, the other was saving his vengeance. They both recognized that the person they were dueling was not the person they truly needed to face."

He let out a sigh. "But you just said they were giving it their best."

Hermione thought, perhaps, he wasn't one accustomed to people pulling their punches. "Their best artistic maneuvers. Not the same as fighting to kill. If you lack conviction, you will not follow through, no matter how skilled you are."

Bucky held up his hands in surrender—here he was, arguing a movie plot point like it mattered. "Okay. Okay. How big was the giant, again?" he asked, opting for a different point in the same subject.

She glanced at him, her brows shooting up. "Uh . . . by American standards of measurement, I believe he was seven-foot-four, and . . . over five-hundred pounds. Why?"

"Context. I'm trying to picture the fight between him and an average-sized man."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but nodded. "When this is over, I am so making you watch The Princess Bride," she said with a grin.

He laughed, but then nearly tripped over her as she stopped short.

"It's here!" Excitement bubbled in her tone as she lifted the map, lining it up with the trees ringing the small clearing they found themselves in.