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What is love?

CHAPTER XI

Perfect Timing

2004 - Grimmauld Place, London

As he pictured her leaving yet again, Harry didn't know if to hex himself or her; he felt like all the ground he'd built under him fell apart slowly, leaving him in a 3 square feet space with a huge void underneath.

Finally his let his shoulders slump and he resigned to put that previous night in the pensieve, where most of those memories were… he didn't quite feel like fully remembering they'd had sex and then argued again, and she'd walked out from his life yet again.

As he entered his Studio, he looked around and spotted the whitish stone basin with runes around the edge and sighed. He used this room to put his thoughts together when he had to make choices or pull himself together after especially tough missions or days. It was pretty much what Hermione'd been back then while the war still stood, when they all had to go out and 'save the world', as Ron usually called it. He chuckled at the memory of him and his friends back when they were inseparable, not to mention unbeatable.

There it stood, his favorite chair, probably in the whole world. It was pretty much like the one he'd made his throughout the seven years at Hogwarts. It was red and overstuffed, and what he liked more was that it sat in front of the fire, giving him a special feeling about it.

He sat, cast roaring flames in the fireplace and just stared into them… It didn't matter that it was mid-afternoon by then, because Harry always cast a darkening charm on the windows, so it appeared to be the middle of the night and the cold winter weather in the damp walls was of much help as well.

Often, he had wondered why he liked night much more than daylight, and he had come to the conclusion that it was probably because at night he could manage to be invisible and not go about being recognized or even seen.

An hour went by and he barely moved, only to accio a couple of sandwiches because he was starving. A lot of thoughts had been going around his head, good thoughts, bad thoughts, guilty, happy, spiteful, wonderful… and they all came down to the same person: Hermione.

He had indeed been terrible to her and he fully understood now why she had reacted the way she had. But she had also been horrible… it all didn't matter right now, for it hadn't been just lust speaking the previous night. He had felt like back then and judging by the way she moved and spoke, she had felt it too. And of course, to that you had to add the fact that he'd had the best night of sleep in a long time.

Something had to be done right now, they had to sort this out or he'd probably die of uncertainty… if you could die of that. But this time it was going to be different, for he wouldn't be coming to ask her back or to face Ron… he would come to her to make things clear and move on finally if it was necessary, which he hoped it wouldn't be.

It was about seven at night and the rest of the occupants of the house had already come back from work. Remus was in the Library reading, as he always did when he came back at night. Tonks was in front of the TV with a sandwich on her hand, which she always had before dinner, and Lariana… she was in the kitchen, as usual. Even if it wasn't her cooking day, she would always make something for them; one of the things Harry loved about her.

When the door to the Studio opened, Tonks looked up at him, "All right, Harry?" she asked with a smile, even if Harry knew she was still mad about the whole Hermione-at-the-door incident.

Lariana heard Tonks voice and smiled, coming up from the kitchen. "Hey there, sulky head!" she greeted with a smile, but he could make out a little sadness in her eyes.

"Good evening," he said back at both women and took a seat besides Tonks.

"Rough day?" she asked as she morphed her face into an Elmer Food one. Harry and Lariana broke down laughing.

Remus heard the voices and came out from his reading session. "What's the joke about?" he asked, happy to see his three housemates speaking normally; he focused on Harry, who sobered almost instantly.

"Hello, Remus, how was your day?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't ask.

"It was good, a lot of paperwork as usual. So did you-?"

Harry sagged and shook his head. Remus started to scold at him but Harry interrupted before anyone could say another word. "But I'm leaving right now. Don't wait up," he told the three, but especially at Lariana.

2004 - Outskirts of London

Once again, she didn't apparate; she walked just as she'd done little over a week ago, when she'd first left Ron at her place. She hoped Ron wasn't there any more, for she didn't quite feel like she could handle anything else right now. Walking was always her best option when she was upset or just needed time for herself. Fresh air or Harry were the two things that had always been able to calm her down; even if he had been the reason why she was upset, even if she was about to break down into a million pieces… Harry or fresh air. Since she didn't have Harry now, nor she would ever again, judging by what had just happened, she decided to walk home and let her head sort things out.

Maybe she had indeed overreacted and spoken out of time, but she was so angry at him… Was she so weak in the 'Harry' field? How could he so easily break her will and her defenses? She would never understand that part of her brain… or her heart.

Maybe she had just gone into an automatic self-preservation mode when she'd seen that yet again, he had broken though her walls; maybe she did feel all those things or as usual, she had just screwed things up for thinking too much.

This time, however, she was sure it had gone too far; way over any unspoken limits they might've had before. He had thrown her terrible accusations and she had responded with the same weapons. They had both crossed the line and she was positive there was no turning back now; not this time.

As the door to her flat creaked open, she tried to smell Ron's aftershave to see if he was still there. When nothing hit her nostrils, she didn't know if to be relieved or feel she had finally pushed away everyone that might've cared for her.

She threw herself to the big four poster bed she had shared with Ron and cried her eyes out until she fell asleep. She cried for Harry, for he wasn't coming back; she cried for Ron, whom she had loved with a shadow always lingering over them; she cried for her, because she had fallen into a web she had spun herself; and she cried for the three of them, for what they had lost for being so stupid and immature.

2004 - Outside Hermione's flat

If he wasn't mistaken, it was one block away. Last time he'd been there, he had only apparated and he didn't quite remember the way back as he was completely broken inside.

Harry stood at the beginning of a very posh-looking muggle street, where there were buildings that obviously held VERY nice apartments and a couple of nice little houses; all very decorated in the outside… clearly it was even better in the inside for what he'd seen of houses or buildings like these.

Finally, he recognized the one he was looking for. It had twelve floors and a post-modern design, all red with amber balconies and small columns taken from the renaissance architecture. He looked up and located the eighth floor, in which Hermione lived; and took a couple long strides to the porch, where he placed number 800.

As he gathered the courage to do it; to end it or start it, but for real, he felt his back pocket start to vibrate and took his hand away from the bells. When he recognized the source of the strange movement, he groaned in protest. "No, this is not possible," he cursed and went to a narrow alleyway in-between the building and a house.

He took out his wand, which was now starting to grow warmer, and glared at it. "Damn paging spells," he muttered and cast the charm to 'answer' the call. "What now? Remus, I told you I wasn't going to work on my day off and right now you interrupted me before I-"

"Harry, it is no joke, we need you. Hermione can wait until you come back," Remus' voice emerged from the wand.

Harry frowned, it wasn't usual to hear his voice so tense; Remus was very calm in the most stressful situations, and Harry admired it very much. "What happened? News on their next move?"

"No, this is worst. I am not quite sure what they are up to, but it is a fact, what you'd thought. They are killing each of us one by one," he stopped for a moment and a deep breath was heard. "They attacked our street, Harry."

"What?! But they can't-"

"They don't see the house, but they know we live there. A couple of muggles were killed in the crossfire-"

"Lariana? Tonks?"

"They're ok, just a little shaken."

"And you?"

"I'm in one piece, if that's what you wondered," he chuckled slightly.

"I'm on my way."

"Don't come round Grimmauld Place, we need you in the old Ministry. Hunter followed two of them, we believe they are using the wards we had set up for the Ministry to keep in the hiding," he informed gravely.

"But I-"

"They are all right. Plus, I am with them so don't worry, get them."

Harry let out an exasperated breath and spoke, "fine, just- take care of them, all right?"

"I will."

"Right, I'm on my way," and he cut the communication. When he was sure he was out of earshot, he let out a scream. The only blasted place where they were safe had been attacked.

"And Harry-," the paging spell came back to life.

"Yes?"

"Be safe, the cavalry will be there as soon as they can."

"I will," he said, not even buying it himself. Nowhere seemed to be safe anymore, and the fact that three of the most feared and respected aurors lived under the same roof didn't seem as much of a good idea as it had in the beginning… They were putting an innocent life in danger, her life in danger, and it wasn't fair at all.

He apparated to the very core of London, where the old building that had once been the grand Ministry for Magic of the United Kingdom still stood. No one would've ever imagined that the greatest battle of all times had taken place a mile underground, tearing the whole place to pieces back then.

Harry didn't really want to go back there, a lot of painful memories came back to him of that first battle in fifth year; of that last battle seven years ago… However, if the damn Death Eaters were gathering again there, he was sure going to go in and blast them to jelly for having killed so many valuable people, co-workers and some friends as well.

Slowly, he entered through what used to be the visitor's entrance, for it had always been the less watched way in. As the floor underneath him sunk low, he pulled the invisibility cloak on and disappeared on what seemed thin air.

When it came to a stop, Harry took a deep breath, the one he always took before a fight, to remember why exactly he killed all those wizards and witches. He was ready now and the door slid open. A small part of Harry still hoped he would meet a deserted place, but he was not surprised at all to see two stupid-looking Death Eaters gazing at the elevator with equally stupid and bewildered looks.

Harry chuckled to himself, and you plan to conquer the Wizardring World with these kind of helpers, give me a break! He thought, and as soon as the ground steadied itself, he banged together the heads of the guards and they were knocked cold, so Harry bound them for when the `cavalry' arrived.

He continued his way down until reaching what used to be the fountain with the witch, wizard, elf and centaur and saw half a dozen more Death Eaters, all immersed in their routines, which included chatting and making fun of mudbloods. Harry shook his head under the cloak and decided he didn't have enough freedom of movement with the cloak on, so he took it off. "Good evening! It is so nice to see you!" he greeted with a wide grin. They all looked up, and for a moment no one moved. "What? Isn't anyone going to give me a courtesy welcome?" Harry pressed.

"How the hell did you-?"

"Tsk, tsk. Gotta be more careful when going back to your dump. And especially after you attacked my street," Harry continued with a cold, falsely gleeful tone that hid all the anger for having put in danger the ones he loved.

The Death Eaters looked at each other and Harry saw, with satisfaction, a flash of cold fear run through their eyes. If there was something that angered Harry Potter, it was when his close friends were attacked; and they knew it.

"Get him! Now!" roared the one who appeared to be the leader of that little group. Exchanged looks of questioning followed this order, but finally they charged, and Harry was more than ready.

He jumped, ducked, attacked and bounced away curses as he tried to get past them. Three were stunned, one dead -at the spell of one of his mates- and Harry took down the other two single handed. Indeed, he didn't come out unscathed, but he was fairly all right, considering he had faced six Death Eaters, that now lay bound on the ground, alone.

Limping a little, and cleaning a bleeding eyebrow, Harry continued under the cloak until what he assumed to be the center of operations because of all the safety wards it had; a place he had hoped he would never see again, but here he was… The Department of Mysteries, or what was left of it.

When standing in the round room, Harry scanned the doors that surrounded them and the old pain for his godfather's death came back to him. He fought to push back those feelings and entered one door, then another one and one more; sealing each as he came out and every time a little more beaten up.

It had been two long hours of fighting and as far as he could remember, he'd killed at least eight -a new record for him-, apprehended about fourteen, and the reinforcements weren't there yet.

"Where the hell are you guys? Can't take them all by myself," he said to his wand, feeling a little dizzy already from blood loss. He was very powerful, but he still hadn't managed to be Superman.

At last, his wand vibrated back and Harry felt relieve wash over him. "Chief, we're lost, there are so many rooms here and Gizmed was the only unspeakable amongst us."

"What happened?"

"We met a dozen and they got him and two more."

"Fuck! We're granting them exactly what they want! Use Colloportus and eventually you'll find me," he ordered his subordinates.

"Right, chief. Hang in there, we'll be there soon."

"I hope so…" Harry said honestly and cut the communication. He had stayed in the last room he'd emptied, feeling he wasn't in shape yet to go through one more door. "Just a little longer," he told himself and sat down, using first aid charms to heal the worst injuries.

He wasn't nearly done when a door to his right slammed open. He looked up with a smile. "It was about-" he stopped when he recognized Lucius Malfoy and six more Death Eaters.

"So… we meet again, Potter. Bad timing?"

"It is always an unwanted pleasure to greet my eyes with such filth," Harry responded, trying to gain time. He was sure he could take down two or three of them, but Lucius? He wasn't too sure.

"The old trick… you're so predictable, you know that?"

"It is working, isn't it?"

"Don't be so sure. Expelliarmus Maxima!"

Before Harry could put the shielding charm up, he was hit and flew to the wall, slamming against it. After a few moments, he regained his breath. "Aren't we a little aggressive today?" Harry asked insolently as he stood, extending his hand so his wand flew back to his hand. "Petrificus Totalus!" Harry shot but Lucius was too fast, and a Death Eater in the back fell to the ground.

"Crucio!"

Harry fell to the ground revolving in pain; seconds later, he was getting over it with a great effort, using the mental training he'd recovered from Dumbledore himself. "Reducto!"

This time, he did receive the impact and he slammed against the door he'd come through. Immediately, showers of sparks and jets of lights attacked Harry, who wasn't fast enough to duck them all, given his actual condition. He resisted and shot spells back, but soon, he couldn't stand it anymore and he collapsed to the ground, letting his tired and beaten up body drift into darkness.

A/N: Thank my day off for this chapter. I wish I could've extended more on the battle, but it would've ended up a VERY long chapter, which we don't want, right?

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