Chapter Text
There was a bump against Bucky’s leg, and he fought to keep a straight face as he discreetly glanced down to see Winter carrying the parchment he and Steve had been passing back and forth throughout the unbearably long duration of the graduation speeches in her mouth. They were sitting alphabetically, so while Bucky was in the second row behind their professors, Steve was way back with the Rs. They refused to let that stop them from making fun of the proceedings, however, so they’d enlisted Winter’s help. It was perfect: with everyone wearing their long graduation robes (which were basically fancier versions of their house robes), Winter could easily slip through the rows of chairs between him and Steve without being obvious to the parents and friends sitting off to the side watching their graduates with teary eyes and proud smiles. Somewhere in there were Sarah, Tatiana, and Mikhail, although Bucky hadn’t seen them when they marched out onto the grounds.
It was a gorgeous day for this, not too hot with the sun shining off the Black Lake behind the speaker’s podium like thousands of glittering diamonds. All along the shore, the boats that were ordinarily tasked with escorting the first years to their first night at Hogwarts sat in a row, but today they would serve another function. After everyone had done a lot of talking and the students were all called for their diplomas and they were given a few minutes to greet their families for pictures and tears—after all their business at Hogwarts had officially been concluded, they would step into those boats for the first time in seven years to leave the castle the same way they arrived.
That, however, would probably never happen at the rate these speakers were saying their pieces. Seriously, Bucky was beginning to wonder if there was some kind of international competition for which school could hold the longest graduation ceremony. When they’d attended Peggy’s last year, it had been a five-hour affair. (Although, to be fair, a good half hour was spent cleaning up after Tony’s waterproof fireworks exploded beneath the surface of the Black Lake, simultaneously drenching the assemblage and setting the boats on fire. That had been wild.) Today, it looked like they were trying to break that record: the ceremony had started at ten in the morning and now it was almost four o’clock with no end in sight.
Professor May had spoken first, welcoming their families and congratulating them on a hard-won end to their education. She waxed poetic about the difficulty of completing seven long years, surviving the N.E.W.T. exams (which were called Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests for a fucking reason), and making it to this day without having some sort of mortal accident. It was meant as a joke but when she said that, her eyes came to rest on Bucky during her scan of the crowd, and he couldn’t stop himself from shrugging helplessly; there had been the slightest twitch of her lips in response as she plowed on.
Ever since his interview had run in the Daily Prophet, the near-death experiences had stopped. Or, at least, the ones that weren’t to be expected when you went to a school where learning dangerous magic was pretty much a regular Tuesday. Bucky had been inundated with letters from people not only throughout Great Britain but the international Wizarding world at large, offering their support and saying they would be fighting the good fight for him in whatever way they could. His friends had grown even more protective, and students he’d never met before scowled at the assholes who so much as blinked at Bucky funny. That number had decreased tremendously after Rumlow and Rollins went back to Durmstrang when it reopened, however.
Surprisingly enough, most of the people who had originally gone to Durmstrang didn’t return to their old alma mater. They were given the option of waivers to remain at Hogwarts, and a great number of them decided to take Fury up on his offer to finish their education there. People who had been bullies and assholes under Pierce and Schmidt’s tutelage turned into laughing, caring Hogwarts students here and became just as protective of their resident famous person as everyone else. As a result, seventh year went off pretty much without a hitch.
Some days were harder than others, there was no doubt about that. Bucky still woke up sometimes feeling like getting out of bed was some impossible feat or that he was so worthless it wasn’t like anyone in his classes would miss him if he didn’t show up. There were still days when he mentally hid from his memories because the nineteenth of August rolled around and he couldn’t think about his sister without feeling like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, or he smelled something familiar and internally collapsed when he realized it was the same perfume his mom liked. Those days were fewer and further between, though. Most of the time, he was able to clench his fist around his dad’s dog tags and his mom and Becca’s rings, take a deep breath, and soldier on. Some of those days, he could even find the strength to pull out the last note his mom had ever sent him, three days before she died, and not cry rereading the part where she said he was her greatest achievement and how much she loved him. That didn’t stop him from hitting up the Staples in Brooklyn during one of their vacations to get it laminated just to be safe, but still, it felt like he’d climbed a mountain and deserved at least a little praise for it.
Today had almost been a Bad Day. He’d woken up in his dormitory for the last time, blinked up at the ceiling, and remembered that his parents and Becca wouldn’t get to see him graduate. It had occurred to him increasingly over the last month or so, and his nightmares had returned with a vengeance as a result—mercifully after he’d taken all his N.E.W.T.s, or else that would have been a royal clusterfuck. Every time he’d start getting visibly lower (or at least he assumed so since he didn’t know any mind readers regardless of his suspicions about Professor Heimdall), his friends would be there to yank him back up straight and remind him that they were there, the family of his choosing that would follow him to whatever end. Clint, oddly enough, had been the first to realize what was happening as they were getting dressed that morning. He’d plucked up Winter immediately, shoving her in Bucky’s face and speaking in a high-pitched voice that was supposed to be his cat’s until Bucky laughed and pulled his fur ball into a hug. Winter had licked his face and nuzzled his neck and yeah, it was okay. It wasn’t good, but it was okay.
Until they had to sit through every Ministry official known to man telling them about the value of education and basically giving them a nonstop advertisement for jobs at the Ministry they could apply for now that they were finished with this stage of their lives. Bucky was positive that at least half his classmates were asleep with their eyes open behind him, so could they really blame him for searching for a distraction?
Bending down to make it look like he was scratching his leg, Bucky retrieved the slip of parchment and stroked Winter’s back as he read, “I’m putting my money on Stark.”
Bucky almost snorted aloud, rolling his eyes and pulling a pen out of his robes. His last message had been something to the effect that he was trying to figure out which professor would get tired of this shit first and hurry it along. He had to admit, Steve probably had a point.
“True. Fury might butt in, though. He looks like he’s ready to blow a gasket.”
That was also true: Fury hadn’t gotten up to speak yet. Apparently it was customary for the headmaster to be last so that he could also distribute their diplomas and shake their hands. Despite only having one visible eye, that eye spoke volumes regardless of the steady patience plastered to the rest of Fury’s features. Bucky honestly couldn’t blame him since, of all the people he wanted to hear speak at graduation, he thought Fury would be way better than the last ten Ministry goons promoting their departments and handing out internship opportunities to certain special graduates who’d earned it somehow.
And they hadn’t even gotten to Pierce yet.
Folding the parchment in half, Bucky scratched Winter’s ears and handed her the note. Because she was a brat and wanted him to know just how much he was putting her out when she could be playing with her toys and taking a nap instead, Winter bumped her head into his palm for extra scratches first before graciously taking his note and slinking off to find Steve again. That, regrettably, left Bucky with nothing better to do than turn his attention back to the ceremony.
Honest, how did these people not get tired of hearing their own voices? Janet van Dyne had been up there for at least ten minutes by Clint’s watch (thank goodness they were sitting together or Bucky may have fallen asleep by now), droning on about the importance of Aurors and the crime-fighting members of the Ministry in keeping their world free from fear. It felt like common sense, though, like a police chief getting up and telling them you know we take the bad guys off the street, right? They got it: Aurors good, bad guys bad.
Steve had returned the note with a little cartoon drawing of Fury’s head exploding before she finally finished by reading off a list of the Hogwarts graduates who had been accepted into the Auror program. Bucky had to pause in writing his reply to whoop loudly with their other friends when Steve’s name was announced. (Fuck the whole no applause till the end bullshit—that was his best friend they were talking about up there.) When the speech was mercifully, blissfully over, the real mindfuckery was set to begin as Pierce took the podium.
“He’ll talk for an hour—time him, ‘cause I’m calling it.”
Once he’d sent Winter off with his message, Bucky reluctantly exchanged a Done With This Shit glance with Clint before looking back up to the stage to see Minister Pierce staring out at them, that faux-grandfatherly smile on his face. It was the same one he’d worn when Yasha Smirnov had interviewed for a position at Durmstrang Institute, and what was hiding underneath was actually more maybe there are two or three good ones than I care about your future.
“Ladies and gentlemen, professors, and new graduates, it is my honor to address you today,” he began, that smirk never once dropping from his countenance. “It is traditional for the Minister to give a speech about the difficult feats you have all achieved in the last seven years and the new horizons awaiting you as you step out of school and move on to the next great chapter of your lives. However, you’ve heard a great deal about that today already, so I would hate to bore you with more rhetoric.”
There was a titter of laughter, mostly relieved, that moved through the crowd. Bucky just rolled his eyes, plucking Steve’s return note from Winter’s mouth when she slipped between his ankles. “I was betting on two.”
If anyone could, Bucky thought wryly, setting the parchment in his lap when Pierce started talking again. He’d wait to reply until he had something good to make fun of this time and occupied himself with petting Winter’s head absentmindedly.
Pierce allowed a moment for everyone to fall silent again before he continued, “Instead I would like to talk to you about something we don’t tend to think about a great deal, especially when you live in the safety of such a fine institution as Hogwarts.”
Raising an eyebrow, Bucky bit the inside of his lip to avoid groaning when he predicted where this was going to go.
“Dangers persist in our world, from within our ranks as well as without.”
Called it.
“As you leave Hogwarts and move forward into the world, many new things will present themselves to you. They may be opportunities that you never considered being available. Perhaps you will find a career you hadn’t thought possible or decide to travel around the world to discover and explore the many things it has to offer. The only limit to your own achievement is that which you enforce yourself. But wherever you may roam, there will be dangers the likes of which our forebears were never exposed to. You will learn that while Hogwarts and the other excellent academies of magic throughout the world are built on the idea that learning is the root of all that is good in our community, there are also evils to be found that will seek to supplant those teachings and seduce you to their ways.”
“I guess Pierce feels guilty about all those sex workers he has to hire since he probably doesn’t get any from his wife,” Bucky jotted down on the parchment, handing it down to Winter. She nipped his finger, took the note, and was gone.
Pierce’s expression was grim, his eyes scanning over the crowd as he silently allowed his point to settle in their psyches. For his part, Bucky wasn’t concerned. He’d seen plenty of the evils the world had to offer, many of them working at the Ministry itself, and wasn’t going out there blind.
Most of the next few minutes were filled with rhetoric about those dangers: the lure of dark magic (which was rich coming from someone who oversaw a school that was just fine with teaching it), the murky ambiguity of the unknown, and the seemingly innocent who couldn’t be further from what they appeared.
And, of course, entanglements with Muggles.
“Muggle sex workers, Buck. Magical ones are just fine.”
Once again, Steve had a good point there.
“One of the greatest dangers to our society and all of its members is the dichotomy of our existence: magic versus Muggle, wizard versus human. The wall between our species has existed since before anyone here was born and will continue to do so for as long as we walk this earth. It is one built on false assumptions and ignorance, creating fear where understanding would cure all ills.”
Then why the fuck don’t you want to bring that wall down, you dick?
“I do not tell you this to concern you or make you fear for your safety,” Pierce assured them as the smile returned to his face. “I tell you this so that you may continue to educate yourselves as you step out into the world. The more you know about the dangers awaiting you, the more prepared you will be to face them. The only way to combat ignorance and assumptions is with open-minded selflessness and the ability to allow the opinions of others to impress upon you that there is not one way of thinking. A threat to one may be a natural element of life to another. Only together can we ensure the safety of our people and perpetuate the success of our society. You must think in terms of what you can do for the good of our world rather than what you can selfishly get out of it.”
“I call plagiarism. Where are the Kennedy lawyers?” wrote Bucky, sending an increasingly exasperated Winter off again. He tried not to feel too bad about it, though: he knew for a fact that Steve had some cat treats in the pocket of his robes.
Pierce shook his head with a disappointed expression, lamenting, “I know it isn’t profitable to work for the good of others. The Aurors who protect us are invaluable, and there is no way we can ever monetarily repay them with what they deserve. Many organizations designed to do good for others throughout the Wizarding world rarely get the recognition or financial support warranted by the generosity of the hearts in charge of them. That does not mean these ventures are not worth the time and effort of those willing to put themselves second and the fate of our world first. One such organization, which anyone who has read the Daily Prophet in recent months will be familiar with, is run by one of the young men sitting here before me today.”
Fuck my life. Seriously, just fuck it with a cactus.
“James Barnes,” announced Pierce, waving a hand towards where he was sitting so everyone knew who to stare awkwardly at, “is the founder and sole shareholder of the nonprofit charity organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. I think we can all agree that if anyone here could stand a little bit of selfishness in his life, it would be Mr. Barnes. But that isn’t the way he sees things. Instead of focusing on employment after school that will benefit him, Mr. Barnes has turned his attention to one of the areas of our community that will always require the best we have to offer: children’s safety and education. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s mission statement is as follows: ‘To be the illumination in the darkness for the betterment of mankind. To be the light in the shadows for those who need it most.’”
Pierce had to stop there as sudden applause swept through the assembly, and Clint shook him proudly by the shoulders even as Bucky ducked his head to stare at the ground. His face was probably crimson enough that he could realistically pass for the Gryffindor banner floating in the breeze behind the podium.
Once things had settled enough for him to continue, Pierce nodded. “We should all be grateful for such an example of true courage, selflessness, and dedication to the wellbeing of the Wizarding world and strive to do the same. In fact, at this time I would like to announce that on Monday, the Ministry will be donating five million Galleons to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Foundation to be put to use in protecting and rejuvenating the minds of our youngest witches and wizards.”
Bucky’s head shot up and his mouth fell open as he stared blankly at the Minister. Everyone else broke out into thunderous applause once again, but he couldn’t feel less like celebrating. Five million Galleons? Yeah, that would be great, but there was no way he’d accept any money from Pierce’s filthy hands. He’d built S.H.I.E.L.D. during the summer before seventh year, funding all of it himself with the frankly ridiculous sum of money he had inherited. Thanks to Sarah and some of the finest minds at Gringotts, he’d invested a fair amount in various industries that had already seen a return, and it was doubtful that he’d ever have to work a day in his life regardless of how much he spent on S.H.I.E.L.D. or paid the caretakers who were currently overseeing it while he finished his education. Tony was actually managing the building in his absence and had sunk a good bit of his own money into making sure the facilities in London were the best, both by Muggle and magical technological standards; Bucky had contracted Tony’s newest creation, Stark Industries, for that very purpose and had (shockingly) never regretted it. If there was something they wouldn’t be likely to miss, it was the five million Galleons he would be sending right back to the Ministry on Monday morning.
Oh, but that wasn’t the best part.
“I’d like to invite Mr. Barnes up here to say a few words.”
That was the best part.
Except for the interview he’d done just over a year ago, Bucky hadn’t spoken in a public capacity…ever. Even when he opened S.H.I.E.L.D., he’d avoided the usual media circus and made sure that a tour of the facilities was held when he wasn’t present. But this was an opportunity that even he couldn’t pass up, so Bucky stood from his seat and edged his way out of the row while everyone clapped and cheered excitedly for him. They probably wouldn’t stay that way for very long when they heard what he had to say, but hey, he wasn’t here to please people.
Up close, Pierce’s smirk was more arrogant than it had appeared from where he was sitting, and Bucky returned his gaze with an equally genuine smile as they shook hands formally. Then Pierce stepped aside, gesturing in what was probably supposed to be a gracious manner toward center stage.
Just before he took his place by the podium, Bucky slipped his wand out and pointed it at his throat, muttering, “Sonorus.” Then, channeling everything he’d ever learned from his mother about addressing a crowd, he cleared his throat.
“Thank you for your kind words, Minister,” his amplified voice rang out over the grounds, echoing a bit as if he were speaking into a microphone in a stadium. It was almost as unnerving as the fact that every pair of eyes was on him. As that hit him like a ton of bricks, he had to force himself to smile through it and keep talking rather than making a total fool of himself.
“The S.H.I.E.L.D. Foundation was originally an idea my mother came up with. Unfortunately, she didn’t live long enough to see it through. When I found her notes, I decided to finish what she started for the good of everyone.”
Not just the Wizarding world, you prick.
Swallowing hard, he glanced around to see that he had everyone’s rapt attention. They actually gave a shit about what he was saying. Now, of course, he had no clue how much of that was based on his own merit versus what was simply due to whose kid he was, but that was neither here nor there.
“When I first started S.H.I.E.L.D., which was the name my mother wanted to use, I tried to think of what it would stand for. It is a shield for kids in need, whether they’re threatened by a lack of resources or an abusive home or just plain ignorance about the world around them imposed by people who don’t want them to know any better. It’s not just for them, though. It’s also a shield for anyone in need, of any age or creed. We’ll never shut our doors in anyone’s face when they come to us for help.”
There was a smattering of applause he was forced to pause for until he was allowed to keep going. “One thing the Minister didn’t mention that really hasn’t been covered a whole lot in the press is what S.H.I.E.L.D. stands for. It means Sheltering Humanity in Every Lifestyle or Discipline. It means we don’t care about whether you’re a wizard or a Muggle or any creature in between. If a house-elf shows up at our doors, we’ll be there. If a Muggle shows up looking for answers, we’ll be there. If a kid from a Pureblood family comes asking about the other side, we’ll be there. S.H.I.E.L.D. is out to help humanity, whether they use magic or not. And that is why I am declining the Minister’s generous offer of five million Galleons.”
There it was—confused gasps and murmuring took over for a bit, and Bucky did absolutely nothing to stop them. He didn’t glance back at the Minister or any of the other officials, who probably thought he was off his rocker for not taking advantage of such a huge sum of money. When he caught a glimpse of his professors’ faces, however, there was more than one glimmer of pride staring back at him. Professor May was openly smiling for the first time ever, and Fury was sitting up taller in his chair, the impatient glare having retreated to be replaced by a look of utmost calm.
Bucky waited patiently as the noise eventually died down, not wanting to speak over them. It took longer than he’d anticipated, but all eyes turned back to him, a bit more shocked this time than before. (It wasn’t due to his awesome and articulate public speaking skills either.)
“As much as the S.H.I.E.L.D. Foundation appreciates this show of support from the Ministry, it wouldn’t be right for us to accept these funds when they could be put to other use. The Ministry is, after all, an entity for the magical community. Instead of giving us this gift for anyone in the world that might benefit from it, I urge the Ministry to take those same five million Galleons and use them to improve our knowledge of and cooperation with our Muggle neighbors starting from the magical side of the global community. As the Minister said, the wall between us is built on misunderstandings and a history of bigotry on both sides. S.H.I.E.L.D. will be here to help those in need, magical or not, but only the Ministry can send the message to the Wizarding world that we are one. Thank you.”
It took a long moment before everyone seemed to realize that he had finished; most still gaped at him like he had reverted to speaking Russian. One person clapped: Heimdall stood from his seat slowly, applauding with steady approval in his eyes.
Then he could see Steve getting to his feet to do the same.
And T’Challa.
Sam.
Clint.
Thor.
Fury and May. Coulson and Stark.
Soon the whole assembly was on its feet, applauding him as he stepped back from the podium and once again pointed his wand at his throat to remove the spell that had been amplifying his voice. His throat felt raw from the strain it had endured during his speech, but that was fine. No one was expecting him to say anything else as they continued to cheer for him.
To his left, the Minister stepped forward from where he’d retreated for the duration of Bucky’s speech, his smile looking more like a strained grimace now. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d think Pierce had been forced to eat a rat as he held his hand out to Bucky.
“Quite the diplomatic speech, Mr. Barnes,” he remarked as they shook hands, his voice low and unheard by anyone else. “It really is a surprise you didn’t decide to go into politics.”
Now that he was facing away from his audience, Bucky allowed his counterfeit smile to slip off his face and coldly replied, “Thank you, Minister. I learned from the best.”
With that, he turned his back on Pierce and returned to his seat. The students surrounding his chair all reached forward to clap him on the shoulder and utter words of encouragement and admiration; Coulson and Erskine, who were sitting immediately in front of him, turned to shake his hand as if he were an equal. Smiling bashfully, he went with the flow despite the urge to shrink into himself until everything calmed down enough for the Minister to complete his own speech.
Did everyone else notice that it was more rushed and superficial than the rest had been, or was it just him?
“Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” Pierce intoned. “Truly, you have proven today that you are even more selfless than any of us could have believed. Your work will be a gift to mankind, and I do not doubt that you will shape the century. Let us all take Mr. Barnes’s example and strive to be better, for the good of all of us. Congratulations, class of 2014.”
The applause was more lukewarm this time, so Bucky had to assume that yes, other people had noticed how lackluster the conclusion was.
A tiny meow alerted him to Winter’s arrival, and he bent down to take the slip of parchment from her mouth before thinking what the hell and pulling her into his lap.
“I swear, I think the ghost of your mom just talked at our graduation…”
Chuckling breathlessly, Bucky merely shook his head. A year ago, he probably wouldn’t have been able to take that joke. Now, however, he couldn’t help smiling about it. After all, he didn’t really disagree. The beginning of his speech had been a bit rough, but…something had hit him hard enough to get him smoothly through the rest, and he knew who he had to thank for that. For once, he could look back at something he’d done and not have to wonder if his parents would be proud of it—he already knew.
When Fury took the stage, the only thing he said was, “Well, I don’t think I could possibly say anything that would be as good as what we’ve already heard, so let’s just get to the diplomas.”
The crowd laughed, and the professors stood to usher them up from their seats. As their names were called, they crossed to the podium, shook Fury’s hand, and received their diploma from Professor May. The other professors stood in line before and after, congratulating them as they walked by and, in a few cases, giving out hugs and handshakes.
He was pretty close to first when Fury called out, “James Buchanan Barnes,” and the applause was almost as deafening as it had been after he spoke. All of the professors patted him on the back as he strode up to Fury, the headmaster gripping his hand tightly for a little longer than was usual to tell him quietly, “You made your parents proud today, Barnes.”
“Thank you, sir,” he whispered, blinking the sudden mist out of his eyes to take his diploma from Professor May, who actually pulled him into a stiff hug before he moved on. So did Ross, Erskine, and Heimdall; even Phillips held a hand out to shake with an approving nod.
Diploma in hand, Bucky was allowed to return to his seat and take a deep, cleansing breath. He’d done it.
He watched while the rest of his friends crossed at the front of the assembly, applauding and cheering in all the right places (which got him a stink-eye from Fury a couple of times, but no one tried to stop him or anyone else who did it). Bucky couldn’t hold in his laugh when Fury announced, “His Royal Highness T’Challa of Wakanda,” and everyone but Steve’s jaw dropped to the grass when Luke appeared next in line.
“Dude, what the hell?!” exclaimed Clint beside him. Bucky reached out a finger to close his friend’s mouth only to have it swatted away as incredulous eyes rounded on him. “You knew?”
“Sort of?” he shrugged with a grin.
“You douchebag! How did you know?”
Bucky explained that they met before school and that T’Challa only told Steve because Bucky knew, but that did little to assuage Clint’s indignation.
“We’ve been best friends with a fucking prince and didn’t even know it,” he grumbled, slumping back in his chair even though they were supposed to stay standing.
“Maybe you can get him to let you try on his crown to say sorry,” consoled Bucky with some underlying snark. Clint flipped him off.
Once everyone had been called and returned to their seats, Fury stood before them and declared that they were officially graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the class of 2014. Everyone broke into applause, and Bucky felt more than saw the people behind him throwing the stupid hats they’d had to wear with their robes up into the air in glee (probably more from getting to take the damn things off than to have graduated, really). Clint grabbed Bucky’s off his head and threw them up together while Bucky hugged Winter to his chest and laughed.
Because this was real. It was real when Sarah ran up and threw her arms around his shoulders in a bone-crushing hug. It was real when Mikhail clapped him on the shoulder and told him how proud both he and Tatiana were of him. It was real when he and his friends immaturely oooooooh’ed at the kiss Peggy laid on Steve the moment he was within reach, much to the latter’s blushing embarrassment. The love, happiness, and delight were all real as they made their way to the boats for the last time and sailed towards Hogsmeade for the celebration that would take place in the rented out Three Broomsticks.
As it probably always would, a tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him that he shouldn’t be here, but Bucky ignored it. The fact of the matter was that he was here and had made it this far, and that was something to be proud of. Not every day would be a good one—many of them would probably suck. But today, life was good, and he would bask in the moment and the sensation of being loved for as long as he could.