Struck ~ Bucky Barnes

Chapter I

Annabelle moved down the corridor towards the department of mysteries with confident, graceful strides - ingrained in her from months of pureblood etiquette training courtesy of Andromeda Tonks, formerly Black.

Her auburn hair was pinned tightly in a neat updo and her suit immaculate as she strode down the hallway. The dark, grimy walls of a decade prior had been exchanged for light creams and greys with the revamp of the ministry in the immediate aftermath of the Second War of Voldemort.

The ghastly statue implemented by Umbridge (who was rotting in a cell in Azkaban for the foreseeable future), had been torn down by hand (or, well, by tools) by all those it discriminated against, and had been replaced by a fountain. The centrepiece was an exquisite design of a unicorn, Phoenix and thestral all in harmony, and the names of all magical beings lost in the wars of Voldemort and Grindelwald were engraved in and around the fountain itself.

The ministry had not only been revamped in its appearance. Legislation had been rewritten and obliterated (with a sort of vindictive glee) and teams put together to prevent their government from ever becoming a dictatorship again.

The magical world had healed. It would never again be what it once was, but what it had become was far greater than anything anyone could have hoped for.

And at the heart of the revolution lay Annabelle Potter.

The twenty-six (nearly twenty-seven) year-old witch had risen to become the youngest Head Auror ever at age 25 when she had been granted the position.

The witch also had masteries in Defence against the Dark arts, healing, charms, ancient runes and Arithmancy, as well as a degree in politics from Cambridge University, and one in medicine.

Her most proud accomplishment, though, was co-parenting her godson with his grandmother.  Teddy was a darling, the incarnation of sunshine and laughter. She spoiled him rotten, and cried almost every time he called her "mum". In fact, the first time he did so, she cried so hard that he started crying as well, thinking he had hurt her in some way. The metamorph turned 9 a few months prior. His family had already started betting on which house they thought he'd be in - Anna and Andromeda were certain it'd be hufflepuff, just like his mother.

The red-head shook her head minutely to dispel the train of thought with a slight smile, before her 'work face', as Ron had so eloquently dubbed it, returned and hazel eyes hardened in professionalism and confidence.

She stood in the room of spinning doors, before speaking clearly: "the Head of Department's office."

Merlin that would've been a useful tidbit to know in fifth year.

She dropped off the paperwork in the empty office, before turning and leaving through the door-

-which opened into the room designed for experimenting with spells and rituals.

The room seemed to tilt on its axis as she stepped through, the shouts of alarmed witches and wizards echoing around her. A gasp slipped out from her own mouth as she summoned her wand into her hand, though with the anti-apparition wards around the entire building, there was no way she'd be able to get out of the situation anyway.

Anna's vision was consumed by a white light, and then darkness.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Agent Carter moved through the streets of London with confidence, lips painted a vivid red and makeup flawless as she walked towards the MI5 headquarters.

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of a crash in an alleyway ahead, and hurried forward to investigate, hand gripping her gun under her jacket.