Chapter 2
While they wait, a woman with a young son toddling behind her wanders into the room. She stops short upon seeing them.
“Who are you?” she asks.
“We are friends of Lord Malfoy,” Steve responds. The woman stiffens a little and turns to leave the room. “Who are you?” Steve asks quickly, before she is entirely out of the room.
“I’m Lord Malfoy’s wife, Narcissa, and this is our son Draco,” the woman hesitantly responds.
“Forgive me, but you look a little young to be Abraxus’s wife,” Bucky says questioningly.
“Lord Malfoy is Lucius Malfoy, son of Abraxus. I assumed you knew,” Narcissa responds, confused but intrigued enough to fully enter the room.
“Our bad,” Steve says. “We’ll leave then. We’d hoped to see Abraxus, an old friend of ours again.” The two men share a look and prepare to leave.
“What is your business with the Lord Malfoy?” Narcissa asks, even more curious now. The two men in front of her certainly didn’t look old enough to have known him at all, let alone well enough to call him a friend.
“We’d just hoped to see Abraxus and speak to him. I assume he retired from his position early?” Steve asks in return.
“I’m afraid he died about twenty-five years ago from dragon pox. I’m sorry for your loss,” Narcissa says, taking in the shocked sadness of the men with some surprise. These men did not look like they could have been much more than toddlers, if that, twenty-five years ago, but they look like they genuinely mourn the loss of her father-in-law.
The two men turn towards each other in sadness, but the tense moment is suddenly broken when Draco Malfoy, just barely five, tugs on Bucky’s pants.
“Lift me up,” he demands.
“Draco,” Narcissa sighs.
He pouts and adds a reluctant “Please.”
Bucky bends down and swings him gently in the air before setting Draco carefully on his hip. “How old are you?” he asks the boy banging on his metal arm with interest, probably noting the differences in textures and temperatures.
“I’m five,” Draco announces proudly and holds up four fingers.
A bout of sudden accidental magic sparked by curiosity burns a hole in Bucky’s sleeve where Draco’s pounding on it. Narcissa rushes forward, fervent apology on the tip of her tongue and worry for her child clear on her face, but she stops short when she sees the metal below the sleeve. Draco turns his head toward his mom, obviously confused.
“Why is his arm metal?” he asks. A gleam appears in his eyes, and Draco looks pleadingly at his mom. “Mom, can I have a metal arm?”
“No, Dragon,” Narcissa sighs. She turns toward Bucky and Steve. “I’m sorry about your clothes. We’ll replace them.” Narcissa inwardly cringes at the thought of replacing such a hideous piece of clothing. What was that, a prison outfit or something? It couldn’t be because there were no black and white stripes, and they looked too well-fed to have been in Azkaban, but still. She shudders inwardly while maintaining her smile and tries not to notice how muscular these men are, how easily they could hurt her.
“I heard you wanted to see me,” Lord Lucius Malfoy said, sweeping into the room with Dobby on his heels. He’s completely ruined the mood of the room, and Steve and Bucky can’t help but notice the new bruise on Dobby’s face and that Dobby is wringing his ears as if his life depends on it. Maybe it does. “Wife, take that brat and go,” Lucius hisses into Narcissa’s ear at a volume that normally would have been quiet enough for no one else to hear. Unfortunately for him, Bucky and Steve have incredible hearing. They aren’t particularly impressed. Narcissa’s smile flickers for a moment before she composes herself and smiles apologetically at Bucky while she grabs Draco from him. Narcissa quietly leaves the room with Dobby scurrying after her, grateful for the excuse to leave.
“What was it that you wanted?” Lucius asks, a charming politician’s smile on his face.
“We wanted to talk to Abraxus, but it would seem that’s no longer possible,” Steve says in reply. Both Steve and Bucky note with distrust that the man’s smile doesn’t falter even at the rather harsh reminder of his father’s death.
“Yes, well, I’m sure any business you had with him can be conducted with me as well,” the oily businessman replies.
“I’m afraid we could only have talked to Abraxus, but thanks for the offer,” Steve says.
He grabs Bucky’s arm, and the two promptly apparate away, leaving Lucius several things to consider. He didn’t see a wand in the hand of either man, yet they had apparated with apparent ease. Not even his Lord, the Dark Lord at the heigh of His power, could apparate without a wand. They also shouldn't have been able to apparate at all within his wards. After a few moments of contemplation, Lucius summons Dobby back into the room. The house elf appears promptly, only to be hit several times with Lord Malfoy’s cane. “You said they were important visitors and friends of mine,” he hisses. A cruel smile twists his face. “For wasting my time, I want you to iron your hands twice.”
“Yes Master. Dobby is sorry,” the downtrodden little elf replies, and vanishes to the room with an ironing board set at exactly his height. Dobby wails as he does his master’s bidding. A cruel parody of a smile warps his face as Lord Malfoy enjoys the sound of the screams echoing around the house. Narcissa is always more obedient after hearing the creature’s wails.
Narcissa shifts Draco’s hand to Dobby’s immediately after leaving the room and kindly asks him to put her son down for his nap. Dobby smiles shyly at the woman and does so, not letting himself wonder why he is tasked with putting Draco down to nap when the lady enjoys doing so so much. Once they are gone, Narcissa pulls up her skirts and sprints down to Lucius’s office. She knows their marriage contract is in there somewhere, and she assumes that it will take at least a few more minutes for the business to be concluded. Narcissa curses herself for allowing her son so near to the visitors. They’d seemed so nice, maybe even genuinely so, but if they were willing to do business with Lord Malfoy, they obviously weren’t all they appeared to be.
A small triumphant laugh escapes Narcissa’s lips when she finds the contract. She promptly makes a copy of it for herself and stuffs it back into the cavity behind the painting she found it in. She hurries toward the nursery and winces as Dobby’s screams echo through the manor. Narcissa makes a mental note to herself to prepare some burn salve. She acts all flustered and quelled when Lucius comes to the nursery to check on the effect of Dobby’s torture on her. All the while, Narcissa pictures the contract hidden in her skirt and the rather sizable amount of money she has squirreled away from the money she draws from her husband’s vaults to supposedly spend all on jewelry and dresses. Only a few more days until her escape, she assures herself. Just a few more days.
Tony
It’s been nearly twenty-four hours, and there’s been no sign of either man anywhere. Tony doesn’t know how they escaped or if they were somehow taken, but he knows that the chances of finding either man are decreasing with each moment. He finishes writing his monitoring algorithm and tells Jarvis to run it constantly until the two men are found, dead or alive. Any picture or post that could somehow be related to his absent teammate and that teammate’s friend will be evaluated by Jarvis and shown to him if there is any possible connection.
Steve and Bucky
Steve and Bucky look at each other on the deserted cliff by the sea. Going to Abraxus for initial assistance had been their hope when they escaped. The man should still have been alive, and both men knew without saying that foul play had been what really killed their friend. Abraxus had had dragon pox as a child and would not have died from it, even if it was possible for him to get it again.
“I think the spouse did it,” Bucky says.
Steve looks at him a little funny.
“What? You were thinking it too,” Bucky laughs shortly. “There’s no way Abraxus’s son would have turned out like that without the spouse - not the Lady Narcissa - being a complete piece of work.”
Steve can only nod in agreement and wonder what had compelled Abraxus to marry someone like that. An arranged marriage contract, perhaps? One forced by his parents, not one that Abraxus chose for himself.
Steve and Bucky had helped Abraxus from the shadows as the man disguised himself and fought against Grindelwald. They’d gotten to know him well as the bonds of trust and magic they’d forged had required. Steve and Bucky had worked together, employing their various skills, to outfit their friend in all of the disguises he needed, and had provided him with several different magical items and potions that could be used to distract, befuddle, or even harm others.
Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder had been a favored more or less accidental invention of theirs, so named because a failed potion from a Peruvian wizard fighting in the war had been the inspiration for their creation when the vapor caused all the people in the area to go temporarily blind before it exploded fully. They’d tinkered around with it on the side for months before producing something fit for their friend to use without being blinded himself, so long as he wore a specific enchanted token. Abraxus had been sweet on someone, though he’d been rather vague on details. The person he’d described sounded nothing like the person he must have married to produce a person as twisted as Lucius Malfoy, not to mention that she, assuming the pairing had been male/female as was the case in most arranged marriages, might have killed him for no discernable reason.
“Where should we go?” Bucky asks.
“What should we do?” Steve asks in return. It’s Bucky’s turn to look confused, though that clears as Steve elaborates, “About Narcissa and Draco, I mean.”
“We can’t just leave them there, but we don’t even have somewhere of our own to go,” Bucky replies.
“Then that solves our question. We’ll go see if Gringotts is still around and buy a house big enough for all four of us from whichever vault the money from our patents and investments went into, if Narcissa and Draco decide they want our help,” Steve declares.
At Bucky’s nod, the two apparate into Diagon Alley just before a satellite focuses on the spot they were standing.
“I swear there was someone there a moment ago,” Jarvis explains apologetically.
“Then what, they just vanished?” Tony asks incredulously.
“It appears so, sir,” Jarvis replies, sounding more baffled than any AI, other than Jarvis of course, has a right to be.
“Are there any other unexplainable disappearances you’ve noticed, J? Someone vanishing into thin air or suddenly not having any public records, no matter their age” Tony asks, thinking that someone is perhaps somehow kidnapping people by making them vanish somehow.
“I will look into it, sir,” Jarvis replies with determination.
“Thanks J,” Tony says before going back to work on the suit.
Narcissa
Narcissa smiles rather triumphantly. After examining her marriage contract to one Lucius Malfoy, she found a clause written in small print that if no further children had been conceived in five years after the heir, both parties could be freed to go find different spouses if one so wished. No wonder that viper kept the contract from her! Narcissa contacts her confidant and asks her to arrange a meeting with a magical lawyer in one week’s time. Narcissa is confident that she will be able to retrieve her hidden money and collect any possessions of hers that she values in a week. She already has an excuse planned, should Lucius take an interest in her actions for some strange reason: Draco has started getting into her things and she wants to make sure they are properly stored so he doesn’t harm himself - accidental magic is hard to ward against. She mentally asks Draco’s forgiveness for the lie. Narcissa also has plans in place to take Dobby with her. Though his burns are mostly healed by now, the Lord Malfoy only picks on him this brutally, something about being a transplant to the estate and needing to be taught his place.
Steve and Bucky
“What can I do for you, sirs?” the goblin asks rather unpleasantly.
“We would like to speak with King Rashanar or whomever may be his successor, worthy knight,” Bucky answers in flawless Gobbledegook.
The goblin sits up and looks more closely at the two men standing in front of him.
“What business would you have with the king?” he asks cautiously in Gobbledegook.
“We have a business proposal to offer,” Steve says. Bucky unfolds his arms and shows the goblin a glimpse of the metal hand beneath the glamor of normal flesh. The goblin’s eyes widen in interest.
“Claynar,” he whispers in awe before remembering himself. “Of course, right this way sirs.”
The goblin hops down from behind his desk and motions to another goblin to take his place. The new goblin, much younger than the one who’d answered their query, looks extremely confused but doesn’t dare to question his superior, instead just sitting on the high chair behind the desk and calling the next person forward. The older goblin leads them down several corridors, commenting from time to time on their surroundings in Gobbledegook. He can’t help but notice the understanding and nods of interest coming from the two men, who had apparently learned Gobbledegook at some point in time, as well as the respect they continue to give him. His station of knight and one of the first lines of defense against attack warrants such respect, of course, but he is unused to such behavior from wizards.
“Here we are,” the goblin says. He leaves them waiting in the antechamber and slips into the office of the king.
“What is it, Garnak?” the king asks wearily.
Garnak bows low and keeps his eyes on the floor as he answers. “King Rashanar, there are two men who wish to speak to you.”
“Turn them away. I am not interested in visitors while my son plots to overthrow me,” the old king orders.
“My king,” Garnak continues, risking the wrath of the premier warrior of their clan, “they asked for you by name.” He can sense he’s about to be interrupted and possibly gutted, so he hurriedly continues. “One of them has a hand made of claynar.”
The king makes a small hum of interest.
“They also speak Gobbledegook as if they were born to it,” Garnak adds.
“Show them in. If your claims are false, you will pay dearly for it. I have more than enough to deal with right now,” the king sighs to himself.
Garnak opens the door wide and announces, “You may enter,” to the two men waiting surprisingly patiently in the antechamber. They immediately stand and walk into the room, bowing once over the threshold.
They bow for a few long moments before the king says, “You may rise,” in Gobbledegook. The two straighten up but keep their eyes on the floor, showing proper respect to the king of a warrior nation. The king’s eyebrows climb higher on his face. “Introduce yourselves,” he orders, already suspecting what the two men will say - they remind him a great deal of two men he once knew.
“We are Steve and Bucky of New York,” the two men answer in synchronized Gobbledegook.
“You may leave, Garnak,” the king orders. Garnak does so, his interest thoroughly peaked but unlikely to be satisfied.
“I had not realized you two were still alive,” King Rashanar says quietly. “You may look up now, by the way. It’s been too long.”
Steve and Bucky look up, smiling at the older version of their cranky friend.
“How exactly have you remained so young?” he asks out of genuine curiosity. “And I thought you both dead.”
“I survived the long fall at the cost of my arm. HYDRA found me and replaced the arm, along with any free thought I had, with their machinery. When they didn’t need me, they froze my body,” Bucky explains with a pained smile.
“My plane crashed into an ice field, so I spent about seventy years frozen. I was found and woken up by an organization called SHIELD that turned out to be HYDRA in disguise, which I only found out after working with them for two years when they sent Bucky to kill me. They captured us a while later when I refused to sign my rights away and chose to save Bucky instead of kill him. We dismantled HYDRA’s mental control and escaped. What really happened to Lord Abraxus Malfoy?” Steve asks.
“Though I am unable to prove it, his wife, a Lestrange, killed him to raise their son to be who she thought he should be. She died shortly after Lucius Malfoy turned fifteen, likely Magic finally taking justice. I am uncertain as to the conditions of the new Lady Malfoy and her son. I remember her as a polite young lady, but who knows what’s happened to her in the last few years,” Rashanar answers.
“Narcissa and Draco are both very sweet, but the new Lord Malfoy is the type of man Abraxus fought with our backing. We’re trying to figure out a way to free her from that bastard’s control,” Steve answers, clenching his fist. The goblins, King Rashanar in particular, had backed them and given them any supplies they needed to help Abraxus. Abraxus was to use his power to improve the standing of the goblin nation, but Steve suspects he was murdered before he could do that. In other words, that investment hadn’t panned out, so Steve wouldn’t be surprised if they’d retreated from the Wizarding World while they recovered from the devastating loss. Wars aren’t cheap, especially not if one is funding a vigilante hero.
“I heard something about your son trying to overthrow you?” Bucky asks, never one for much formality or tact.
King Rashanar snorts. “You really haven’t changed. Yes, my son Ragnok is trying to overthrow me because our home cavern has become unstable and the people are restless. We have claynar enough to strengthen the walls and pillars but are unable to work fast enough to restructure the cavern, though I have placed all of our best smiths on the issue. The Ministry of Magic has refused to help. It’s gotten even more useless in the time you’ve been gone.”
“What of Grindelwald? I assume he’s been defeated,” Steve asks.
“He was defeated shortly after you two disappeared by a man named Albus Dumbledore. There is a new Dark Lord though, one even worse than Grindelwald. He tried to directly and magically kill a baby to spite a prophecy. This, of course, didn’t work with the magical children being sacred and protected by Lady Magic herself, so the Dark Lord was forced to flee his body and is now trying to gather enough of his power back to form a new body. Voldemort, the new Dark Lord, unintentionally left a piece of his soul in the baby’s - Harry Potter’s - forehead. Our seers can also tell that the boy is living in absolutely terrible conditions now, forgotten by the world he saved and hated by those he should be able to call family, placed there knowingly by Albus Dumbledore,” Rashanar explains sadly. Even if Death Eaters were unable to magically harm babies and toddlers of their enemies’ families, that didn’t stop physical harm or harm from where the children were placed later. “We know where he is but have been rendered unable to help him because of the political and magical power Albus Dumbledore wields in regards to the boy.”
“Perhaps the two of us can help all four of you,” Steve offers. “Something tells me Narcissa is just about to her breaking point, and I will not allow a child to be raised in such a manner if I can help it. As for your cavern, Bucky and I are rather strong wizards.”
Bucky nods in agreement.
“It doesn’t matter how strong a wizard you are. Claynar is nearly impossible to work with. Speaking of which, Garnak mentioned that one of you has a hand made out of claynar. I’m assuming that’s you, Bucky?” Rashanar asks.
Bucky takes off the glamor and reveals his metal hand - and a tiny part of his arm where his sleeve is singed - to King Rashanar. He then proceeds to take a little bit of claynar off of the tip of his finger with his mind. Steve takes a little bit of that ball for himself, and the two men carefully make a web of vibranium stretched out in the air. It hangs there for several seconds before Bucky pulls it back down into the tip of his finger. Rashanar’s mouth is gaping wide open, and Steve and Bucky smirk a little in enjoyment.
“How is this possible?” Rashanar finally asks.
“I was given a shield of claynar, as you call it, and became familiar with it. I gained the ability to call it back to me and eventually manipulate it over nearly a year of constant battle,” Steve explains.
“The arm fashioned on me was made of this metal, so I was close enough to gain some understanding of it. When they put me on ice for the first time, my mind connected with his -” Bucky’s head tips to the side to indicate Steve “- and I understood how he could manipulate his shield. I haven’t had much of a chance to practice with it until now because my mind hasn’t been clear enough to, but I reckon we can manipulate the claynar you have to structurally support your home cavern if you allow us to.”
“What do you ask in return?” Rashanar asks warily.
Steve and Bucky have a mental conversation for a long moment.
“We want to be able to provide a place - likely a house - for Lady Malfoy to stay with her son, should she choose to leave her husband, as well as a place for Harry Potter. Depending on his physical, mental, and emotional state when we meet him, we may choose to take him in ourselves. We would also ask for your support and silence in regards to Harry Potter and the Malfoys - excluding the current Lord Malfoy of course - should we need it. We also would like some claynar for our own to be able to manipulate for our protection and the protection of any of those in our care,” Steve announces.
“The house across the street from the Potter boy is going up for sale. We will buy that for you. It should have plenty of room for five people to live in it comfortably. We will furnish the house and continue to give you support as long as you work with us amicably. This may expand into other metals and items, depending on the need for such items and your agreement in making them. As for the claynar, we will see how much is left over after the cavern has been made sound,” Rashanar offers, pleased.
“And the promise of silence and support if necessary?” Bucky presses.
“Fine,” Rashanar grumbles. He was hoping they’d forgotten about that particular matter. “Let us seal this in blood.”
The three make cuts in their palms and swear to uphold the terms previously stated. Blood is drawn out and mingled into the air, flashing a green-gold as the alliance is forged. The cuts are completely healed, and three contracts appear where their blood had been. They hang in the air until each of the three steps forward to grab their copy. A quick glance over the paper reveals that their previous conversation is written down word for word once the negotiations had begun.
Rashanar nods, satisfied, and taps a previously-unnoticed inlaid gemstone to summon one of his underlings after he places his copy in a hidden desk drawer. The goblin enters and bows low. He only nods in confirmation at the order to purchase and furnish Number Five Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey, and scurries back out to do as he is ordered. King Rashanar turns back to Steve and Bucky, who have just finished shrinking the contracts and placing them in their pockets.
“Shall we head down to the cavern?” he asks. Without waiting for an answer he turns on his heel and begins to lead the way.