After Winter

This story is part of my request series All About Harry. Do you want to make a request? Look at my bio page for info.

Winter Soldier, James Barnes, every now and again, is woken for a Mission, but they don't mention the time he spent Rogue. He had a family, a wife, a son on the way before he was dragged back kicking and screaming Murder.

Harry was eighteen and in New York for a class trip when the Winter Soldier pointed his gun at Captain America, Harry slipped in front of the Captain as he was walking and the Winter Soldier lowered his gun as the memories came flooding back.

I don't own the rights to Harry Potter, Captain America or any associated stories, characters or concepts.

Chapter 1
Words: 1 449

Life could be absolutely wonderful; there was no doubt about it. But for it to be wonderful you had to have a life and James Barnes had the extreme luck of getting his back.

He had very few memories. He had no recollection of his childhood, all he knew was his mission and what he could do to get the wanted results. But as he got farther and farther away from Moscow on his latest mission to kill an English ex-Military man, he started to feel things. He began to want things.

At first it was just minor stuff, like deciding that he could take the afternoon off to do nothing more pressing than to sit in a café and have more than one second cup of coffee, and why not indulge in a strawberry tart while he was at it?

When he had woken up all that mattered had been the mission, but as he got closer to his target other things began to matter. He got a glimpse of what life could be like. The man had a family. He seemed to love them very much and James couldn't help but want the same for himself. A wife, children… A normal life.

No more sneaking around. No more cold, empty beds. No more guns. And no more death.

Once the man was no longer breathing, lying cold on the floor, blood splattered on the wall behind him, James walked away, giving a silent promise that this death would be the last one at his hands.


About a year later, at the beginning of summer was when he saw her for the first time. She was wearing a white dress. Her hair was long and deep red. Her face was angelic, as if carved by one of the masters of old. And her eyes were green, so very green. As soon as he saw her walking down the road in Hyde Park he knew that he wouldn't give up until she was his.

He'd hurried after her and without any fanfare he had asked her out. At first she had seemed startled, those green eyes growing large. Then she had smiled politely and gently turned him down.

He had insisted that she should give him a chance, following her through the park, determined to not let her get away.

"You haven't even told me your name, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome," she said, smiling as they reached the edge of the park.

"James," he said simply. Half a second later she had burst out laughing.

Later he had been told the story about that, about another dark haired James who wouldn't give up and he could appreciate the irony.


They had gone on a date, which turned into several dates, and when autumn came and she had to go back to school, they both mourned their separation, promising to write.

His Lily was only seventeen years old, but he could wait. He had a life now, and waiting for the girl that was his perfect fit was not a problem.

The year went by; they met for Christmas and spent every minute that wasn't dedicated to family together.

Spring came and passed, with Lily's eighteenth birthday passing as well and then summer was upon them once more.

In early June, with flowers at their feet and a blue sky over their heads, back in Hyde Park where they'd first met, James proposed.

After Lily said yes, James became certain that he was living a dream. Things couldn't have been better.

They got married, Lily moved into his apartment as she continued to study. He loved his wife very much and she loved him back. It didn't matter that they had to eat lentils and beans several times a week to get by on the lousy income he made as a cabdriver. They were in love and love can get you to the moon and back. Things were simple and they required little else than each other.

But as time went by, he grew complacent. As with the memories of his life before the last mission, the memories of Russia and what he had been required to do, faded away, meaning little when he was so surrounded by love and contentment.


"I'm pregnant," Lily whispered one night in early December the following year when they lay cuddled up together in bed.

"Really?" he asked, feeling a grin spreading across his face.

"Yes," she said, smile evident in her voice. "You're gonna be a father. Daddy James."

He pulled Lily closer in his arms, kissing her lips, trying to convey the feeling of happiness that was spreading through him. "I love you so much," he said, kissing her again.

"I love you too."


They were sitting in the kitchen, silently watching the rain that fell outside their window when Lily spoke.

"If it's a boy I want to call him Harry."

James smiled at her and the out of nowhere statement. "Oh, you've already had time to think about that?"

"Hmm," she hummed in affirmative answer.

"And if it's a girl?"

"If it's a girl, then you can decide the name."

James smiled.


Before he got to see her belly grow, his old life caught up to him. He was driving his taxi when the client that got in brought up a gun.

"You knew we would find you," the man said.

"Get out of my car," James snarled.

"Your car," the man laughed. "How deluded you have become, Winter Soldier. No, this little play of yours is over. It's time to take your final bow to the audience and leave the scene."

He'd fought for all he was worth, but there isn't much you can do against slowly spreading gas that flows into your lungs until you lose consciousness.

He didn't wake up again for a very long time, and when he did, the memories of the years spent away from his oppressors were gone.


"He'll be back," Lily insisted.

James Potter sighed. "It's been four months now, Lils." He was tired at seeing Lily like this, always cooped up in the apartment Barnes and she had shared. She had no colour in her cheeks anymore and her eyes no longer sparkled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard her laugh.

"He'll be back," she repeated, hand pressed at her stomach.

"I'm sure he will." He'd be there for her until then, he knew that she would never love him, but he couldn't help but love her. And Barnes was a good man, a man he had begun to consider as a friend, though he had hated him in the beginning for stealing away Lily's heart. He would not let either of them or their child down.


Winter Soldier saw his opportunity and without care for the group of teens that was just a few feet away, walking in their direction he pointed his gun at Captain America.

The blond man noticed him instantly and tensed, ready to move, then his eyes grew wide, surprise showing on his face. "B-Bucky?" he stammered.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" Winter Soldier asked of the leathercoat wearing blond. Before the man had time to answer one of the teens that had been walking passed them was standing between them, and Winter Soldier refocused on him, sighing lightly. He had hoped for no complications. It should be simple. Appear at the right time, take his aim and shoot.

"Get out of the way kid," he said, keeping his finger on the trigger. After all it was only the matter of having to use two bullets instead of one.

"No way," the teen said defiantly, sticking out his chin.

Winter Soldier stared him down, taking him in and assessing him. Tall, rather slight, but with the potential to fill out his frame with muscles in a few years time, dressed in a hoodie and jeans, dark hair, strong jaw in a narrow face, and eyes that were spitting defiance. Green, green eyes.

"Lily." He didn't realize that he had spoken the name. The barrel of the gun pointed to the ground.

Memories came flooding back. Walks in Hyde Park. Missions given to him in Russia. A small kid with asthma who wouldn't let that stop him from standing up to people. His wife and their unborn child. Assassinations. World War II. Steve.

"Oh my God," he gasped, having fallen to his knees. He looked back up, seeing Steve, his stubborn, foolish and brave friend looking at him with a worried expression. He turned to the kid; the young man with Lily's eyes, and… and… his face. "Harry?" he asked.

End Chapter 1

AN 20th August 2013 (9th October 2013):

This story was very simply written. It was nice trying a new style, a style that didn't take nearly as much effort as the way I usually write and I was able to write it up in one go. I know it ends rather abruptly, but I decided to keep it like that. I will probably continue it at some point, but I can't tell you when.

[Last edited October 2015]