A/N: Hello all and welcome! This story is a gift!fic for the truly fantabulous nightgigjo in celebration of her birthday!

I will apologize, this is my first foray into the Harry Potterdom. Please forgive me for any mistakes that I have made heh Also, I'm fudging the timeline a bit for this piece so you can say this is a slight AU take on whichever events you want to take as being AUed (both apply).

The first time Harry Potter met Steve Rogers was at his cousin Dudley's sixth birthday party. Dudley had gotten upset because Harry just had to attend his special celebration. As punishment for his (supposed) crime, he'd tied Harry to a tree and left him there. Harry had been almost numb from the cold when a man had appeared from out of the mist to untie him. He'd have sunk to his knees in an unceremonious heap had the man not wrapped a supporting hand around his elbow and helped him to slowly sit upon the moist ground. The man had then crouched in front of Harry, a quiet smile curving his lips and a warmth to his eyes that soothed away the vestiges of hurt Harry allowed himself to feel for Dudley's unspeakable cruelty.

"What's your name, son?" the man inquired in a voice as soft as a midsummer rain.

"Harry Potter, sir," the six-year-old replied somberly.

"Well, Harry," the man said kindly as he wrapped him in a worn leather jacket that smelled like the summer sun and some sort of spicy, musky scent that Harry would learn years later was something called bay rum. "Can you tell me why you were tied to a tree?"

Embarrassed heat crept into Harry's cheeks and he glanced down at the ground before mumbling, "My cousin Dudley was upset that I was attending his birthday celebration."

"And your cousin doesn't like you I am guessing?"

Harry shook his head. "He prefers to act as if I don't exist." Then he added in a humiliated whisper, "He likes to forget that I exist."

"Well, Harry Potter," the man declared as he rose to his feet and held out one of his large hands. "I know that you exist. And," he added in this rich voice that managed to settle and soothe him, "I will never forget you."

Harry glanced first at that calloused hand and then up into the man's face. He saw no hint of malice or cruelty, no indication to suggest that he was pulling Harry's leg. He slowly placed his small hand in that larger one and allowed the man to pull him to his feet.

"Thank you, sir."

A kind, but somewhat bashful smile creased the man's lips. "No need to call me, sir, Harry," he told him. "Just Steve will do."

Steve had walked him home (to the displeasure of Uncle Vernon) then, talking about inconsequential things along the way. Harry had been intrigued about his going around the world to become "acquainted with everything that had changed." He'd asked him to write (again to the displeasure of Uncle Vernon) and Steve had promised he'd "write" to him as "often as" he could.

He'd kept true to his word.

Steve Rogers sent Harry Potter one letter a month for the next nine years.