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

Chapter Twenty-One: Death Sight

Hermione opened her eyes with a series of slow, drowsy blinks. She last recalled nodding off on Bucky's shoulder, now she lay flat on her side . . . . Had they simply collapsed backward onto the bed?

Yet, as her surroundings swam into focus before her, she found she recognized the featureless walls with their swarming, ephemeral gold symbols. She made a sound of discomfort in the back of her throat as she pulled herself to sit up.

Bucky, looking no more at ease than she felt, was climbing to his feet beside her.

Loki stood off to one side, his back to them. Though, from his posture, she thought for certain he'd folded his arms across his chest . . . the image of him tapping a thoughtful finger to his jaw as he pondered the symbols in front of him came to mind.

"Finally awake, are you?" The jet-haired man turned his head for only a moment, peering over his shoulder at them. "Well, figuratively speaking, of course."

Bucky's jaw fell a little as he tipped his head back, his gaze tracing over the symbols on the ceiling. "Wow." He wanted to say more, but speech seemed to escape him just then.

"Why did you bring us here?" the witch asked with a clearing shake of her head as she finally stood.

Arching a brow, Loki pivoted on his heel to face them. "You made me give my word that I would tell you something of what I am 'up to,' did you not?"

Feeling just a touch stupid in that moment, Hermione nodded. "Well, yes, but I thought you'd just show up back where we were, again."

Loki frowned, nodding back. He was being far too lenient with these two, but then, he could not bring himself treat than any differently than he already was. Blasted cosmic connections—they were a damned inconvenience.

"I will allow you to ask one question. Only one. I will answer honestly. I had thought reminding you of the power of this place would assist you in choosing what you ask."

"Why does it have to be me?"

Hermione jumped a little, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. The question had tumbled from her lips before she'd even realized she had spoken.

Behind her shielding fingers, she chewed furiously at her bottom lip as she glanced at Bucky. He gaped at her in disbelief, and she could not say she blamed him.

Curling her hands under her chin, she pouted. "Sorry, that one just sort of sprang out."

Groaning, he rubbed his hand over his face. Not that he wasn't curious what it was that made Hermione the key to this place, but . . . . "Maybe, I don't know, you could've asked, 'what are you planning to use this room for?' Or 'what's the deal with this place?'"

She folded in on herself a little at the tone in his voice. "Are you angry with me?"

"What? No." Bucky scowled, his shoulders drooping. "I'm just frustrated that we seem to stop thinking clearly around him," he said, gesturing vaguely toward Loki.

Loki's pale face pinched in a vaguely affronted expression. "Yes, well," he started, his gaze flitting over each of them, in turn, as he spoke, "it is no small feat for me to think clearly around the two of you, either."

Blue eyes rolling, Bucky set his jaw. "Ya know, we didn't ask for this any more than you did. Pretty sure if we'd had a choice, you'd be the last person—"

"Gentleman, please," Hermione said, holding up her hands.

Their reactions were comically similar as they turned their attention to her. Each scowling as they exhaled sharply through their nostrils.

At the noisy exhalations, her brows shot up and she shook her head. "Like talking to already-taunted bulls in an arena." Sighing, she dropped her hands. "It may not be the best question, but it is the one I asked, so, Loki? If you would?"

Lowering his gaze to the floor, he darted out his tongue to wet his lips as he thought on his answer. To twist the words, or simply come out and say them cleanly?

Dilemmas, dilemmas.

But then, he saw no benefit to dishonesty in this moment.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You are the last Earthbound Witch. Those of your kind who suffer loss have mysteries revealed to them—the greater the loss, the greater the mystery revealed."

Her brows pinched together as she understood his meaning. "Like the thestrals." Her jaw dropped a bit and her eyes widened.

Bucky thought sure he must've misheard her. He understood a host of languages, but couldn't make sense of the word—what the hell was a thestral? "What?"

She shook her head, biting her lip a moment. "They're these . . . beasts in the magical world, like skeletal horses, but you can't see them unless you've witnessed a death."

Loki only watched their interaction. Once more, he folded his arms across his chest as he waited for her to connect the dots. He didn't fully understand her loss, either, but he was certain—with her tendency to think aloud—that he was about to understand as she explained how it was that she'd become the last of the Earthbound Witches.

Her gaze roved, raking the floor of the room. "I can . . . I can only assume that you mean Muggle-borns when you say Earthbound Witches. The greater the loss . . . ? You mean—" She cut herself off, tears gathering in her eyes and the tip of her nose stinging. Her throat felt like it wanted to close around the words.

In a blink, Bucky was beside her, curling a protective arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into him with very little awareness of the movement, or instruction to her body to do so. "It's because I felt their deaths." Hermione shook her head, her voice trembling. "It was more than knowing all the other Muggle-borns died, it was after my spell came back to me and I felt it. Your locator stone must've predicted that that would happen, or it would never have led you to me."

Though he wasn't looking at them, Loki was painfully aware of the weight of their gazes on him as they waited for him to offer some response. "The orb can guide one based on internal predictions it makes, but it does not share entirely what it sees, only the outcome. Only what it deems of most use to its user. I was . . . ." He swallowed uncomfortably. "I was unaware of the depth of your loss."

"How does me being able to see the symbols help you, though?" she asked, deciding to force her feelings away for the moment. Collapsing in another heartbroken heap wasn't going to help their situation any. "Can't you see them, too?"

His perfect jet brows lifting, Loki nodded. "Yes, as can Bucky."

She tipped her head to one side, trying to understand—had she missed something? She didn't think she had. "Then what difference does it make that I—"

"Seeing them," Loki began, a severe frown tugging at the corners of his lips as he crossed the room toward the other two, "is not the same as comprehending them."

He had her here, now . . . . He should force her to try to read the formula to him. But this was not the room, only a dream of the room. If his memory was off in even the slightest detail, her translation would be flawed.

Loki ignored the nagging sensation that he was not overly fond of forcing Hermione into anything, either.

"And that was a second question."

Hermione exchanged a look with Bucky. Loki'd said only one question, and they were in his mind . . . . Was he going to punish them, somehow, for overstepping?

"I—I didn't really mean to—"

"You owe me," the Asgardian said as he reached out, lightning-fast, and pressed his fingers to each of their foreheads.

* * * * *

Hermione and Bucky started awake in their quarters at Avengers tower. Snapping her head up from his shoulder, she glanced about the room as she tried to think about just how bad owing Loki anything might be before she finally met Bucky's gaze.

His shoulders slumping as he let out a breath, he said, "Well, shit."