It was just over two years ago now, Harry thought to himself. Two short years since it had all ended. They had hunted down every single piece of Voldemort's soul and destroyed them. Sometimes Harry wondered what had happened to their own souls as they maimed and killed countless death eaters who stood in their way. It was what they deserved, of course, but it still burdened his , he pushed it away, reluctant to think too much of their "glorious victory".

In the public's eye it had been glorious, seven young wizards and witches playing such a large part in the destruction of Voldemort's army. But they did not know half of what had happened. All the blood spilt, all the lives snuffed out. While it had never been him handling the executions, he had approved every single one of them. As more innocent people died, they all became less forgiving to the captured death eaters. They had all coped somehow, through denial, drinking, emotional detachment or a conviction that what they did was, in the end, for the greater good.

If Harry had to put a finger on what kept him human through the inhumanity he delved into, he would have said Hermione.

While he had kept everyone motivated, kept them going, she had always done her utmost to keep everyone sane. To some extent it had worked.

The death eaters were weak after their master's defeat. Many had been killed and many had been sent to rot in Azkaban. Those who were left had either rallied to Bellatrix Lestrange or retired on unknown locations.

The ones who fought on still caused some chaos, but they were not enough to threaten the Ministry of magic, which had been led for almost a year by Kingsley Shacklebolt. After Scrimgeour had ordered that all members of the Ruthless Seven should be brought to justice for their crimes there had been a lot of turbulence in the magical community. More than half of the auror office had threatened to resign and the protests against the decision had been such that Scrimgeour had left his position. Kingsley Shacklebolt had won the election that followed by a landslide and under his leadership; things had gotten more stable. Several new departments had been started, the department against magical discrimination among them. Against the few remaining death eaters, Shacklebolt had recruited a veteran from the second war.

The official name was The Vanguard, who was a complete enigma to the entire magical community. Nobody knew the appearance, age or even the gender of the ministry's agent.

What everyone knew, though, was that the Death eaters feared the operative as much as their master had feared Albus Dumbledore and that despite their best efforts, they had not come any closer to finding or killing The Vanguard.

The vanguard stood motionless in front of the four black-robed death eaters who observed the much feared enemy with caution.

They were by the edge of a thick forest with the main road that continued for a mile to the nearest city behind them. The grassy area was separated by fences and in the distance, cows could be seen. The dew-covered grass was lusciously green and stretched as far as the eye could reach in parallel with the road.

An orange jet of light flashed but the Vanguard drew a wand rapidly and dispelled it before it even had closed half the distance.

With a fluid wand movement, the grass in the area of the guilty Death eater grew rapidly until it was knee-length. From the front, the grass entangled the death eaters feet, while from behind; it got hold of the knees.

With a firm pull, both the legs were snapped off a few inches below knee-joint with an ominous crack

Three killer-curses were fired but The Vanguard ducked them and then slammed a gloved fist into the soft ground. The earth beneath the combat-boots adorning the Vanguards feet cracked and triggered a fissure that ran along the ground to all three death eaters.

They all fell down the waist-deep hole that had been created and before they had a chance to jump out, the earth closed in on them, leaving them stuck.

One of them managed to aparate out before the grass once again came alive and snatched the wands from their hands, snapping them in half.

No doubt wearing a smile beneath the hood that effectively cast a shadow over the face, The Vanguard raised a hand, issuing for the last Death eater to come get some.

The young female death eater, shaking from her boots to the wand-tip attempted another Avada Kedavra, but the green light flickered for a second at her wand-tip and then went out like a shattered light bulb.

With a simple disarming spell, the unsteady hand lost the wand and The Vanguard took it skilfully. A few stunning, levitating and binding charms later, the death eaters were all incapacitated in and left lying in the moist grass.

Although it would've been interesting to pull of the mask to expose their identities, it was not the job to which The Vanguard had been assigned. Instead, the victor apparated to ministry to give the Auror's the location of the prisoners. The job was done.

With a tired, barely audible sigh, the cloaked operative disappeared with a pop.

Harry Potter woke up from a sound sleep and got up from the warmth of his bed without much remorse. It was a beautiful day of spring with chirping birds outside.

Through the partially open window, a light breeze caressed his face.

He heard the sound of an alarm clock from the room adjacent to the large combined kitchen and living room and went out of his room after pulling a pair of torn jeans and a dark blue t-shirt on. He got seated by the wooden counter which separated kitchen from the livning rom. Mostly, he only used it in the morning when he could not be bothered to move his food too far. As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he saw his best friend of over ten years, Hermione Granger, come out through the door. She wore a large red baggy t-shirt which covered half the distance down her legs to her knees. Harry suspected it might've belonged to him at some point. They had shared the large apartment in Hogsmeade for 2 years now and had gotten on with their careers and lives.

Hermione owned a book shop to which she showed a great deal of devotion. In Harry's opinion, one he did not voice too often, she wore herself out too much working there.

He did know that she sold books to schools and other establishments and also suspected she may be writing books in secret herself, seeing as she had more money than she should have with what Harry had seen of her business activity.

He had never seriously brought it up, only hinting a few times at her writing smut novels, a claim she always denied (though not without a blush).

He had himself, after the defeat of Voldemort been offered many jobs. The aurors office had contacted him and so had many other departments. Several quidditch teams had offered him contracts, but in the end he had shocked everyone by opening a small restaurant which he took care of by himself. It wasn't exactly enough to live of, but he already had more money than he could ever spend in a dozen lifetimes so it did not matter too much.

'Morning Harry,' Hermione greeted him glumly, gazing longingly at the coffee.

'Morning sunshine,' he replied cheerfully.

The bushy-haired brunette sat down next to him at the rectangular oak counter and rested her head against his shoulder, her hands going on and off the cup of coffee which was still a tad too hot.

'Rough night?' he asked her, caressing her hair softly.

She made an "mmm" sound of agreement, nuzzling into his neck so that he would not stop.

'Someone I know?' he teased.

'Yepp. His name is work and he and I had a wonderful time last night.

'Sounds like a great guy,' said Harry with a light smile.

Hermione took a sip of her coffee and opened up the paper that lay on the in front of them, next to the fruit basket. The headline read:

The Vanguard arrests four.

In the early evening yesterday four known Death eaters were brought in by the notorious Ministry employed agent known as The Vanguard. The identities of the prisoners have not yet been revealed, but a statement is expected today. The death eater activity has been very low lately and this reported along with a majority of the country thank The Vanguard for our safety.

Harry gave the paper an amused glance.

'Nothing like a bit of ministry propaganda, eh?'

'Well, it's not entirely untrue, is it?'

'I guess,' shrugged Harry. 'Still, it sounds rather cheesy. Any idea on who it is?'

'Hmm?'

'Our mystery saviour, who do you think he is or she is?'

Hermione bit her lip as she usually did when thinking.

'It could be anyone. Probably some old order member or some recently graduated kid the ministry trained.'

'Probably,' he said, giving his watch a glance. 'I think I'll open up the restaurant. You coming?' Hermione nodded.

'I'll just finish my cup of coffee, and then I'll be right along.

Harry kissed her gently on the forehead and apparated away. He did it every morning, it was a morning routine of theirs and he had no idea whatsoever that it still made butterfly's flutter in his best friend's stomach.

Upon arrival, he gave the room a quick look to make sure everything was clean, then, he brought out four eggs, some bacon, four pieces of toast and two oranges.

Whistling lightly, he flicked his wand at the door, which swung open and put the frying pan on the stove and put his wand up his sleeve.

He cracked two of the eggs and began to fry them, put them on a plate, which had been enchanted with a heating charm and proceeded with the other two.

When they were done, Hermione arrived outside the door, wearing a green hooded jumper and a pair of blue jeans.

'Food's done,' he called as she entered. Hermione smiled and walked up to the counter, where she sat down on one of the three stools standing there.

Although he rarely had any customers this early, despite three or fours irregular ones, she sat there so that he'd be able to work and talk to her at the same time.

The diet, although he did vary it a bit on her wish, had forced her to start exercising some to keep up with the calories consumed, but she never complained. After being in embarrassingly good shape during the days of the Ruthless Seven, it felt simply felt odd not to keep going, so he did (with some moderation).

'Bon apetite,' said Harry, putting a plate with two eggs, half a dozen slices of bacon and two pieces of toast on the counter with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

He put another plate with the same contents at the seat next to her and poured himself a glass of milk.

Nobody was there and it was unlikely that anyone would appear at all in the early morning.

'What's on the agenda today?' asked Harry as they both tucked in.

'I thought I'd try a new approach today,' said Hermione. 'Selling books.'

Harry tried to smile, but realised that with all the food in his mouth, it might offend Hermione.

'Good luck with that, it sounds like a hoot.'

'Why thank you,' replied Hermione dryly.

She finished the last bits of bacon and downed the rest of the juice, went for her wallet as usual, and Harry did what he always did, banishing it to the other side of the room.

Looking a bit sour, as she always did when Harry refused to take her money, she left the shop with a little wave and walked to the other side of Hogsmeade, where her little bookshop waited.

The Vanguard sat in a comfortable leather chair in an office with two large bookcases that covered both walls at the sides.

At the back of the room was the door, and at the front was a handsome cedar desk, behind which Kingsley Shacklebolt, the minister for magic, sat. In his slow, pleasant voice, he addressed the ministry's most successful operative since the legendary Mad-eye Moody.

'We received your package yesterday and they have all been transferred to Azkaban to await trial. We're very pleased with the delivery.'

The Vanguard nodded.

'There is also a matter that I have been considering for a while. We have been bombarded with requests – and bribes- from the Prophet to persuade us to give them an interview with you.'

'And you consider this a good idea?' asked the Vanguard. The voice had been made indefinable as male or female, or indeed anything at all through the aid of magic.

'The Death Eaters have never been weaker. Our victory is almost complete. Should we be able to capture Bellatrix Lestrange, I believe the remaining Death Eaters will go into hiding for good. But… the magical community has taken a great interest in your work and for the sake of morale; the interview might be a good idea.'

'Fine, let's do the interview. However, I do not believe you called me here only to ask me that, Minister.'

'And you are correct,' said Shacklebolt, smiling somewhat fondly at the operative. 'As for Bellatrix Lestrange, we have been working for a while to get her out of the safe location from which the operations are run. We have a man on the inside and if he is able to get her in the open, we will need for you to take her out.'

The Vanguard nodded once more.

'He will contact you with this.' He put a piece of parchment on the desk, which The Vanguard took and examined closely. 'The location and details will appear on that parchment and you will have to act almost immediately.'

'I will try to stay on my toes.'

'Good.'

The Vanguard gave the parchment another quick glance before stowing it away and leaving the room.

In a dark dingy apartment in the rougher parts of London sat Bellatrix Lestrange, tapping her fingers impatiently against the surface of the large square table that took up a majority of the room.

The sun was still up outside and sent a few rays of light through the thick grime that covered the windows.

She sat at the head of the table and in front of her sat her closest circle of Death eaters.

Only four of them were present at the moment and it was to remain so. The plan they were devising should stay secret for as long as possible.

'I have created what I believe to be a solution to our problem with the ministry's little puppet,' she said, and the four Death Eaters gave her their full attention immediately.

'As none of our undercover agents have found anything whatsoever regarding the identity of this operative, I believe that only the minister knows it. We cannot touch him in the current state of things so that is ruled out.'

'Do we know where he is located?' asked Draco Malfoy, looking intently at his aunt from under his long blonde fringe.

'Yes, but he is well protected and if we let them know we are aware of the location, security may be tightened further and then we will never take him. We will wait until we are ready – Then we will take out the Minister. For now, we need to deal with The Vanguard.'

'How?' asked Yaxley.

'It is unlikely that he or she appeared out of nowhere. We will make a list of suspects and tail them.'

'What about Potter?' said Malfoy quickly.

'I suggest we add him,' said Cho Chang. 'Why have we not dealt with him earlier?'

'Because if we attack Potter and fail, then I am sure that he and many others will return from their little retirement and make our operations a lot harder,' explained Yaxley impatiently.

'We will add Potter for now. Any other suggestions?'

'Do we have a list of confirmed members of The Ruthless Seven?' Asked Lucious Malfoy. 'Because it could be anyone of them.'

'Not Longbottom. The magic we have seen The Vanguard use is too advanced for him,' said Bellatrix. Although Neville Longbottom had proven a worthy adversary, he still had his limitations.

'Do we know the whereabouts of the McDermott girl?' asked Lucious. Bellatrix shook her head.

'No, she has been gone for a while now, which would make her a possible choice. But compared to her actions within The Ruthless Seven, it does not fit. The Vanguard prefers taking people alive, if possible. McDermott managed a pretty fine death toll before she disappeared.'

'It's true. We'll scratch her from the list. Add the rest, though.'

They spent a few more hours going over the list, which in the end contained over a dozen names who they amassed a large majority of their available forces to follow and watch closely. They were never told why they were to tail them, nor were they allowed to tell any other death eater about their missions.

With a satisfied sigh, Harry watched the two customers leave his little restaurant. It was roughly half an hour past mid-day and he felt like paying Hermione a visit. It was Friday, after all, so he figured he might as well close the place down and call it a day.

The sun, which had only spared him a few rays through the windows, hit him with full force as he stepped outside and he squinted slightly at the sudden invasive light.

The day was pleasantly warm and windless as he walked slowly up the small road which eventually would lead him to the Hogsmeade main street.

The little building where Hermione worked was deserted and the brunette sat at the counter with a quite thin (at least by her standards) paperback book.

She took a brief glance out the window and spotted Harry, who raised his hand in recognition, walking towards the door.

She hastily stowed the book beneath the counter and got up from her office chair.

Harry had barely gotten through the door before she met him and gave him a warm hug.

'Sold anything today?' asked Harry with a hint of mischief in his voice.

'Got two big orders and one or two customers so I spent most of the day trying out the books, just to make sure they were good enough for the clients.'

'Yes, I noticed. How's that smutty novel you read before? I've always wanted to give it a look myself.' Hermione blushed furiously at his comment.

'I- it wasn't- I- I was bored!'

'That bored?'

Hermione gave him a dirty look.

'You better be taking me to dinner now, Mr Potter or I might have to kill you,' she said playfully.

'By bludgeoning me with your book?' he asked innocently.

'That among other things.'

'Then dinner it is. Three broomsticks?'

'You're buying so it's your choice.'

Harry grinned and began to walk towards the pub.

'So, what's the name of that book?' Hermione sighed at his question.

'Not dropping that, are you?'

'Not until you've given me every single juicy detail.'

'As in, where my hands were located for example?' asked Hermione, an eyebrow raised.

Harry fought a blush with difficulty. Hermione could be wicked too, he knew, and she kept on surprising him these days.

'I do hope they were on your desk or I'll never touch a book in that shop again,' he said as he pushed open the door to The Three Broomsticks.

Hermione gave him a poorly faked look of incredulity.

They sat down at their customary table by the window, which Harry suspected Madam Rosmerta had cast a notice-me-not charm upon as it was always free for them.

Hermione, who complained about having had a way too heavy breakfast ordered a salad, whereas Harry, who needed more food than she did, ordered some pie soup and bread.

As they waited for the food, they summarized their days, but neither of them had done anything worth discussing at length, so they moved over to general small talk after a while.

Hermione told him about the orders she had received, one of which was from Hogwarts, where they were resupplying for the next semester.

Those orders were the ones that kept her shop afloat and Harry suspected her status as a decorated war hero helped a great deal.

He had been visited by the Weasley twins for some early lunch and another ten customers had shown up during the day.

A majority of his more loyal customers were Hogwarts students who often came to visit.

Harry had to admit he enjoyed hearing their stories of his old school and what went on there.

Plus, they kept him busy, which made the day pass faster.

Their food arrived and Harry attacked his large bowl of soup quickly, while Hermione ate her salad with a bit of respect for the other customers.

When his soup was finished, Harry finally looked up at his friend of 10 years. She had indeed changed since that day when he had met her on the train, bushy haired and buck-teethed.

While her hair had not changed that much, expect in length, perhaps, he supposed he had just learned to like it.

As for the rest of her, she was quite pretty and as much as it bothered Harry that he thought so, there was no denying it. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of chocolate brown, her smile still dazzling and while he had slacked off a bit at the end of the war, she clearly had not At least not from what he had seen during her walks across the apartment in sometimes nothing but her underwear. Not that he looked… That much. Alright, so he pretty much stared at her when that happened, but so what?

They had never been romantically involved, not during their crusade against Voldemort nor after it. They usually flirted with each other in a manner most people commented on, but which Harry always had shrugged off as a fun thing they just did.

Completely harmless, no feeling involved- at all. Oh, if only that was the truth and not something he convinced himself was true to stay somewhat sane.

Hermione, he was sure, was not interested in him. She had been the perfect friend, talking to the numerous one night stands he had brought home after the war had ended, before he got tired of it.

She had done what he had expected Ron to do, never complaining, never giving him any comments about his carefree lifestyle.

In the end, he learned the lesson on his own and she was there for him when he did.

She too had seen a few people after the war, two brief relationships that had ended after a few weeks and in one of the cases, a few months, the latest of which had ended over a year ago.

Harry too had played his role well, brought a girl to the double dates she had arranged twice and then never again since both times they had so much fun talking to each other and as a result, both their dates felt neglected and left.

The one time when a boyfriend had cheated on her and then had the stomach to blame it on her and on top of that, attempted to hit her. That had, of course, gone straight down the drain and he had ended with an arm twisted out of its socket and a broken nose.

By the time that Harry found out, the man had already fled the country.

Harry had hunted him down in a week and brought him back to Britain beaten within the inch of his life, claiming with a wink that he had saved him from a vicious Death eater attack.

Hermione's ex boyfriend had confirmed the story and had never shown his face again in the civilised world again.

'Any plans for the evening, Hermione?' he asked as he put down a few coins for their food.

The brunette looked up from the last bit of tomato she had been trying to stare at until it disappeared.

'I thought I might read a b-' She got no further before Harry started snickering.

With a grumpy look, she banished the last bit of tomato at him.

'How about we watch a movie?' suggested Harry, catching and eating it.

'Only if I get to pick,' compromised Hermione. 'If you force me to watch one more of those movies with that Hugh Grant, I think I may have to kill you.'

Harry sighed bitterly.

'None of those, I promise. How 'bout we take one each?'

'Deal,' said Hermione, grabbing his hand and shaking it firmly.

Their apartment looked quite a lot like a muggle apartment, expect for a few magic finesses here and there. It was, for example, warded quite heavily, but still had a muggle DVD player and TV.

They apparated to the outskirts of the nearest town and walked down the slight slope to the shop where they usually stocked up on movies and candy.

The rest of the day was spent walking around until they found a nice spot to sit down, where they mostly sat to talk and play chess. It felt good to play with someone other than Ron, because against Hermione, he at least won one out of ten games.

As it began to grow slightly darker, they apparated back home, fixed some dinner, ate it and then sat down in the couch with the candy, cold drinks and a large cosy blanket.

The first film, which was Hermione's choice, was quite funny, on some sick level, but it was also the most disgusting thing Harry had ever seen on the screen.

The second movie, which he had chosen, he supposed was good, because he fell asleep thirty minutes into it.

He awoke, many hours later, to find himself still lying in the brown leather couch with something warm on top of him.

Harry blinked, pushed his glasses further up on his nose and then looked down to find out the source of the warmth. It was Hermione, lying on top of him in a most compromising position.

Her head was resting softly on his shoulder and the smell of her shampoo filled his nostrils.

'Hermione?' he whispered softly. She did not reply, but she appeared to have been woken.

With a surprised yelp, Hermione clumsily tried to move away, got trapped by the blanket and landed on the floor with a soft thud.

'I-uh-' was as eloquent as Harry got.

'It's- I'll- I'll go get us some- some bread for breakfast,' stuttered Hermione, hastily drawing her wand from her sleeve where she apparently still kept it and apparating away.

Harry was left an utter mess. Why the fuck did he have to ruin stuff like this?

Things had been perfect. Sure, he had been secretly in love with his best friend, but at least she hadn't known, at least it had worked to some extent.

He cursed fluently as he got up and walked to the bathroom. A cold shower would probably be an excellent idea at this stage, he thought.

Once inside the luxurious bathroom with pale white tiles at the walls and dark blue ones for the floor, he jumped into the shower immediately after shedding his clothes, enjoying the calming cold water.

Meanwhile, Hermione appeared on a hill behind a few trees and bushes. It was hers and Harry's apparition spot whenever they went to buy things in the nearby muggle village.

From the spot she could see a small winding road which led down from the hill, on which she currently stood, to the village which sheltered around 500 people.

But she was not at all focused on the sweet picturesque town a hundred yards away. Her focus was on what just had happened before she had fled.

She had woken up on the couch, just like so many times before after dozing off to a movie.

Harry was still there too, but that was not an uncommon situation either. But never before had she woken up sleeping on top of him. In panic, she had tried to move off him and that was when he had woken up and made her fall of the couch.

She had been so embarrassed that she had come up with the worst excuse ever and apparated away. She felt hot and flustered but she pushed it away to the back of her mind.

She cursed and performed a few quick charms to fix up her appearance.

There was still some shopping to be done. If someone commented on her breathing being heavy, she could always lie and tell them she had walked quickly.

It was Monday at 1 o'clock and a stressed Hannah Abbot ran along the streets of Hogsmeade.

Before she had time to properly perceive it, she felt some spell hit her and then everything went dark.

When she woke up she was sitting in a naturally bright room. A look out of the glass windows that took up most of the walls told her that she was in a skyscraper.

In front of her, in a leather chair similar to the one she sat in, was the person she had longed to interview for so long.

'I apologize if the safety measures caused you any discomfort but it is, after all, better to be safe than sorry.' It was a strange voice, which Hannah could not define as either female or male. She suspected it had been adjusted magically to disguise the identity of their mystery saviour, who clearly enjoyed his or her privacy.

'It's understandable,' she said softly. 'Shall we get started?'

The nameless operative leaned back into the chair to be more comfortable.

'By all means.'

'Well, I have been told, most thoroughly, that there will be no questions that may, in any way, give hints as to who you may be. Can you tell me why you took the job?'

The Vanguard shrugged.

'I wanted to keep my loved ones safe and as long as the Death eaters are around, I believe that nobody is entirely safe.'

'And you will catch them all?'

'Hopefully.'

Hannah nodded slowly and made a few notes.

'How much longer do you think it will be before they're gone?'

'Could be twenty days, could be twenty years. I'm hoping for the first, obviously.'

'So am I,' said Hannah with a little smile. 'Now, what do you think of minister Shacklebolt?'

The Vanguard laughed.

'I hope you did not expect me to give you any juicy secrets about my boss, because I will not. As long as he keeps mine, I keep his. But if you want my general opinion, I think he's doing a good job with the new anti-discrimination laws and the war against what's left of Voldemort's little army.'

'Who is the best you've ever fought?'

'I did practise duelling with Mr Potter, but I'll have to say that Voldemort somewhat sharper,' replied The Vanguard after few seconds in thought.

The reported smiled awkwardly at how easily the questioned had been answered. Many, herself among them, still shunned to utter the dark lord's name. She really wished she hadn't lost her parchment with questions when she had been stunned, though, because she had been forced to improvise thus far.

Still, she was good at her job and kept asking questions and writing down the answers for another ten minutes with The Vanguard before shaking hands and leaving.

The door slammed shut behind Harry and his eyes quickly scanned the apartment. Hermione sat in the couch with a book in her lap and a cup of tea on the table in front of her. She looked up from the book when she heard the door open, but the moment she noticed it was him, she looked down at her book again, a light blush on her face. Ever since that fateful morning, things had been a bit awkward between the two of them. They followed roughly the same patterns and routines, minus all the body contact which Harry found himself missing a great deal.

Unable to help himself, Harry went to the couch and hugged Hermione from behind, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before moving away. His gesture seemed to break the awkwardness somewhat and after it, things were back to normal.

The rest of the evening was quiet. They usually had a very comfortable silence between the two of them (although the previous day had been an exception) and neither really felt pressured to keep the talking going at all times.

They spent their time talking lightly about going on a vacation later. Sunday morning meant brunch at the burrow, which both Hermione and Harry always showed up for.

They appeared outside the burrows wards at 11:30 with stomachs grumbling about the lacking intake of food. This particular Sunday there weren't that many present but for once; Ron had time enough to show up. He had been elected into the British national quidditch team as a reserve keeper and had been very busy balancing training and his social life. He went up to them first hugging Hermione and then Harry.

Harry felt a tiny bit uncomfortable. Otherwise, they only really hugged when they were drunk.

It was great that Ron had managed to pull himself together after almost a year of using and abusing alcohol to forget the war. He had been sober for almost a year and Harry was proud and relieved.

Bill and Fleur were there and so was Tonks, who the day in honour sported a short light blue haircut.

Harry and Hermione sat down next to each other, like they always did and received a smug look from Tonks as per usual.

Harry made a mental note to put a hex on something of Tonks'. Last time he had put a balding elixir on her hair brush and it had taken her two days to find a cure for it. Of course, she had hunted him relentlessly for a week because of that, but it had been worth it.

As Molly Weasley came with the food levitated in front of her, Harry looked up. When his gaze had travelled half way to the bacon, beans and other treats that were prepared, he noticed Luna. He noticed, more particularly, the vertical cut on her cheek, slightly below her eye.

Over the years he had grown very fond of Luna, despite her oddness. She had been very brave and loyal during the many ups and downs of their quest to defeat Voldemort.

When he asked her what had happened she said she'd had an accident with a bewitched pair of scissors in the morning before leaving. There was a slight glow to her skin around the wound that indicated that she had used some healing salve on it. The cut would most likely be healed up within two hours.

Unable to help himself, Harry leaned over the table to ruffle Luna's hair a bit.

'You've got to be more careful. No point in having killed Voldemort if you kill yourself with your own scissors.'

There was a bit of laughter as Molly let the plates of food land softly on the table. She gave Harry a slightly reproachful look, obviously considering the most feared dark lord of modern time to be a poor choice of subject for her brunch

They tucked in on the food and the conversation moved on to more pleasant matters, although it was hard to keep it from sidetracking to war stories when four of the Ruthless Seven were gathered.

Neville and Ginny were on vacation in Greece while Julia McDermod was still missing and had not been spotted for over a year.

Harry sat talking to Mr Weasley who had been Minister Shacklebolts first choice for the new magical integrations department. It was one of the departments he had actually considered seriously on joining.

He knew Hermione was interested too, but she still seemed to be clinging on her shop.

At least she had other options if it went under, he thought.

Absentmindedly, he gave Hermione's shoulder a pat, deciding to tuck in on his food before it got cold.

All the plates in the Weasley household had a light warming charm on the food, but even with it, one couldn't leave the food around forever.

Once finished, it took Harry five minutes before he could move out of his chair and over to the couch in the small sitting room where he knew he'd linger for at least an hour in a food induced coma.

He talked to Ron and they decided to meet for some food the next weekend. Ron disappeared a while later.

Just when he had fallen asleep, a weight landed next to him on the couch and he was jerked awake again.

He blinked the blurriness the sleep had caused away and noticed Fred Weasley sitting next to him with a broad grin on his lips.

'Unless my expert instincts are mistaken, you plan a bit of mischief directed at a certain Tonks. Am I correct?'

Harry laughed and decided to join the game.

'Indeed. She made a few remarks during lunch which call for immediate action.'

'Would those be regarding the relationship or lack thereof between you and a certain brunette you know?'

'Correct, my old friend. What course of action do you propose?'

'Ever since the success of operation Bald eagle I've been planning for a situation like this.'

'Spill it.'

'I've been researching some mild compulsion hexes. It took me and my dear brother a bit of effort, but we've managed to make a brand of chocolates that contains different hexes.

One, for example, makes you hit yourself on the forehead every time you use the word "and".'

Harry grinned. That would be perfect.

'Well, how bout we send Tonks a box of chocolate under Remus' name?'

'Agreed. She'll probably check it for poison and curses but since these are harmless, they shouldn't be discovered.'

They spent some more time plotting the deed before Harry spotted Luna sitting alone on the stairs leading upstairs. He got out of the couch with some difficulty and sat down next to his friend, putting an arm around her shoulders. Fred disappeared.

'How're you holding up, Luna?' he asked her. She did not show it, he knew, but somewhere deep inside her mind, she was still suffering. With her usual oddness and all distracting, nobody else had noticed except Hermione.

'Cloudy, but it's clearing up.'

He really felt sorry for the girl and made a note to be even more attentive. She really did not have any friends besides himself, Ginny and Neville. Hermione visited her at least once a week, trying as she had during the war, to help her.

Harry leaned in and kissed the top of her head.

'After the rain comes sunshine, haven't you heard that?' he whispered with a soft smile.

'Britain has an average of 154 rainy days a year,' supplied Luna helpfully, still staring straight ahead.

Harry decided he'd try to plan in meeting her sometime during the next weekend and go do something fun. Not only was it the thing a friend would do, but he owed it to her. She had been the very definition of loyalty during the war, killed for him and never asked why. Never questioned, even when questioning had been warranted.

'Anything you want to talk about?' he asked her. He always did because he knew there was something burdening her.

'I don't regret anything I did,' she said, still distant.

'Look at me,' he said quietly. She didn't.

'Look at me,' he repeated, his voice cracking slightly as he put a hand on her chin, making her meet his eyes.

'I know there is something tormenting you, Luna,' he said, hands keeping needlessly keeping her head in place as he looked straight at her, their faces only inches apart.

'You can tell me,' he added, his voice softer.

While Harry had to admit Luna very often surprised him, her next action really blew everything else she had ever done away by far.

She leaned in, pressing her soft lips against his, linking her arms around his shoulders.

At first Harry was too dazed to think, let alone kiss back. Then, he pulled back sharply, pressing her away with his hands at her shoulders.

He observed her closely, his brain working furiously to work out just what the ruddy hell had just happened.

'I- I love you,' the blonde whispered, her large blue eyes filling up with tears.

Oh dear god, that was not what he had expected. Horribly memories of gruesome murders, yes, loving him, most certainly not. Was that what had been bothering her?

What was he supposed to say in response? What the hell was he supposed to do?

He loved her too, of course, but not the way she apparently wanted him to. She was like a confused little sister he felt a need to take care of and protect. He sat there in silence, his head in his hands until she got to her feet and began to pace quickly, heading for the door.

She was already at the edge of the apparition wards when he got outside. Quickly, he drew his wand from the holster at his hip and called 'Accio Luna'.

In his haste, he overpowered the spell, which sent her body colliding with his and the both of them tumbling into the mud.

'I'm sorry, Luna,' he said, brushing the dirt of his pants and offering her a hand.

She accepted it and got up, looking expectantly at him.

Was he supposed to say something? Well, he did need to explain himself.

'I love you too, Luna, but-' The hope that had flickered across her features disappeared. 'Not the way you might want me to, though, I'm sorry.'

They stood there, silent and awkward, for a long time.

Then, she surprised him again, by smiling.

'Thank you for your kindness, Harry.' She began to walk away again.

'Will you be OK?' Harry called after her retreating shape.

'Sometime,' she responded and then she was gone.

'What happened?' asked a voice, just behind him.

He flailed around, wand pointed straight towards Hermione's heart.

'For the love of God, Hermione, haven't I told you not to sneak up on me like that?'

She grinned at him, but quickly saw the confusion etched on his face.

'What's the matter?'

'Luna kissed me,' he said, looking at her awkwardly.

Even Hermione seemed to be surprised by that, which made him feel better. She had always been extraordinarily perceptive.

'Odd, she never told me.'

'She said she loved me.'

'Oh dear.'

'Yeah, damn right. I told her I loved her, but not the way she wanted me to. Was that right?'

Hermione smiled at him, but if it was out of pride or out of amusement, he could not tell.

'Well, it must've hurt, but…' She hesitated, biting her lip for a moment. 'I think that was the only way to do it.'

Harry sighed. He really had to make sure she was doing OK. He'd visit her at lunch the next day, he assured himself. Hermione patted his shoulder as they both walked outside of the wards and apparated back to the apartment.

The rest of the day and evening was a calm and pleasant affair during which they talked over the finer details of their little trip to somewhere where the sun actually decided to show up every now and then.

Then, before they knew it, it was Monday morning again and the both of them sat with a cup of coffee, in front of the newspaper.

The main article was the long-awaited interview with the notorious Vanguard, which had been done by the old Hufflepuff Hannah Abbot.

'That one sure is a mystery,' muttered Harry with a light yawn.

'Yeah… It's not you, is it?'

'Nah, if I tried fighting them without you, I'd mess up and die.'

'That is true.'

Harry kissed her, a kiss at her cheek this time, before apparating off to work to prepare her some breakfast.

The day was cold and rainy so Harry made a cup of hot chocolate, something he knew she would enjoy, along with two pieces of toast. Since he did not feel particularly hungry he only took an apple for himself.

A soft crack outside the door informed him that his friend had arrived.

With a smile, he set up her plate and the glass of hot chocolate.

The time Hermione spent at his little dinner varied a lot. Sometimes she stayed for over thirty, minutes, eating lazily and talking to him, sometimes she was in a hurry, although Harry really had to question himself who would get up early to buy books. Other than Hermione, obviously, she didn't count.

On the other side of Hogsmeade, Hermione Granger opened up her shop and gave the sign by the door a push so that it turned around to show the words "Open".

Since Harry had seen her read her book, which was of a nature she'd rather he didn't know, she had become aware of how poorly warded her shop was.

The only things she had done was a simple protection charm on the place she kept her money and an anti-apparition charm that prevented other people from apparating in or out of the shop. She still could do both, though, after some clever manipulation of the wards.

The windows were a weakness, she thought to herself.

After some thinking she decided on placing a mirage charm on the windows. To anyone on the outside, it would appear that she stood by the bookshelves at the side of the store opposite to the desk, where she in reality sat.

She also put up some basic protection charms on the windows and a charm to signal her in case a group of five or more apparated into the near vicinity of the shop.

Feeling satisfied with the safety measures she sat down and opened up the paperback at the same spot Harry had interrupted her.

In the old flat in London, the Death eaters were all gathered by the table. Of Lord Voldemort's great army that at its peak consisted of over 200 wizards from many different countries, 25 remained. But due to the size of the less than awe inspiring apartment, it was still quite crowded. Bellatrix Lestrange sat at the head of the table looking very satisfied.

'Through some investigating, we have narrowed down the list of suspects of who the ministry's puppet may be to two people. Due to who they are, I have decided that we will take the both of them out. Lucious, your target will be the easier one. Take ten Death Eaters with you and I shall take the remaining of our forces.'

The Death eaters quickly divided themselves into two groups, the larger of which rallied around Bellatrix Lestrange.

She gave them a detailed description of the areas they were about to attack and then said:

'We shall leave in 30 seconds.'

The death eaters all drew their wands and put on their masks.

Draco Malfoy had his hand in his pocket, desperately trying to write on the piece of parchment that also occupied the space.

He had to warn her.

Still in her bookshop, Hermione glanced at her wristwatch. 9:10 and still no customers. She sighed tiredly and then jumped at the burning sensation in her pocket. Quickly, she withdrew the piece of parchment and read the sloppily written words.

"They're coming.'

With a quick whip of her wand, the chest she kept locked and warded behind her desk opened up. With another quick motion, her clothes had changed from the pair of jeans and the hooded sweater to the dark clothing of The Vanguard. She pulled the hood up and just as she did, she heard the apparition alarm being set off and a chorus of Avada Kedavra echoing.

She dove under the desk as the curses smashed through the left window where it looked as though she stood.

Knowing she did not have much time before they realised just what had happened, she apparated out, straight into the mass of Death eaters. Two slashing wand movements later, two death eaters lay bleeding and groaning on the ground.

With a whirl of her cloak she was gone and then reappeared fifteen yards away.

A swarm of curses were fired at her, most of them killing curses.

With an upward flick of the wand, a barrier of dirt and cobblestones rose up from the ground like a tidal wave, consuming the curses and shattering into dust.

Using the dust for cover, Hermione apparated again and sent three quick stunners from behind the Death eaters who began to spread out.

One made contact and sent the Death eater into the dirt while the other two bounced back on hastily raised shields.

By her shop, which lay in ruins now, she spotted a few books on the ground. She apparated closer, dodging another swarm of killing curses. Closing her eyes for a very brief moment, she focused and then swished her wand at the books.

The advanced animation spell quickly made every book in the shop, intact or not, to come alive and zoom out of the window like a swarm of angered bees.

Hermione sent a killing curse of her own at a death eater who had tried to sneak closer. He raised a totally inefficient shield before dying instantly as the curse hit.

Meanwhile, the enchanted books began to dive-bomb the death eaters Kamikaze-style, distracting them enough for Hermione to incapacitate another two. Another was knocked out cold as Hogwarts: A history got him in the back of the head.

'And Ron and Harry thought that book was useless,' she mused to herself.

Three of the death eaters apparated next to Hermione, who, only a split second before they were able to finish the long incantation of the killing curse, fired of a strong wind charm with her wand pointed at the ground.

She flew upwards into the air and from there; she managed to fire two stunners before she had to cushion the landing with another wind charm. Both her spells hit their marks.

The last Death eater waved his wand to let his mask fade away.

Lucious Malfoy appeared. He had aged considerably compared to the last time she had seen him at the Final battle two years ago. Perhaps life in hiding did not suit him.

Grinning, she copied his gesture, letting the hood fall.

'So it is you. One single Mudblood brought us to the edge of destruction…'

With a quick movement he sent a dark beam at Hermione who responded by conjuring a pink bubble around herself. The curse extinguished itself against the shield in a series of violent sparks and crackling sounds.

Before she had the time to repay the favour, a Death eater appeared behind Malfoy senior and shot a stunner at his back. He, too, removed his mask and revealed his identity to The Vanguard.

'It's been a while, hasn't it, Granger?' he said, eying the destruction his old schoolmate had caused.

'It has, Malfoy, it has,' said Hermione, trying to catch her breath. 'You were the spy, I take it?'

'Would I have blasted down my own father and warned you about the assassination attempt if I was not?'

'Probably not.'

'No, of course not. We can discuss it over a few rounds of drinks later, you should check Potter. Bellatrix led the more experienced Death eaters to take him out. I'll warn the ministry.'

Hermione's felt as though her blood froze. She looked quickly at Malfoy, before collecting her wits and apparating.

Upon arrival, she was greeted by a cutting hex which caught her by the upper arm.

She immediately apparated away again, to a spot roughly twenty yards away.

She cut was not deep, nor was it threatening. Wincing lightly at the pain, she observed the scene. Harry was still alive, it seemed, but he was struggling, duelling six death eaters and among them, Bellatrix Lestrange. The ground was littered with the dead and those about to join them.

Deciding that is was the best option, Hermione apparated in next to Harry, joining her shield with his as several more than likely lethal curses smashed into it.

Harry conjured a swarm of balloons in front of them so thick that it was impossible to see through it. She heard several balloons pop as killing curses hit them.

Meanwhile, Hermione used the time his creative use of charms for children's parties had bought and traced a fiery star-shaped array midair with her wand.

Mustering every single bit of will she had, she forced it all into the destruction beam. A pure white beam the thickness of a basketball hoop appeared at the centre of the array and surged forward. It tore straight through the balloons and swept across the death eaters, sending body parts flying and staining the street with blood and innards.

Harry saw one of the Death eaters who had lost half his arm try to apparate away, but he disarmed him quickly, kicked him over roughly, and dragged him to his knees to unmask him.

Greyback's scarred and ragged features appeared and Harry's inside burned with hatred.

'Please,' The werewolf begged, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood with his hand.

Harry gave him a cold look.

'Please, I beg you. Don't-'

With a dispassionate look on his face, Harry silenced the man by slitting his throat.

He pushed the man over with his boot and left him to die on the street, turning over to face his rescue.

Harry's eyes darted from the Vanguard to the massacred corpses of the Death eaters.

'Thank you,' he said, his voice strained from exertion.

'You're welcome,' replied the familiar female voice politely.

'That's you, Hermione, isn't it?'

The Vanguard sighed in response to his statement.

'I couldn't stand it any more. I couldn't stand you ruining yourself any further when it was not needed.' She sniffed and leaned her head against the junction between his shoulder and his neck, wet tears running down her face to his skin.

Harry pulled the dark hood away and uncovered her face.

He was angry at her, furious actually, but he could not shout at her now, not when she was crying. Slowly, taking great care to keep his voice calm, he spoke.

'Why did you not tell me?'

'What we did during the war was evil. It was necessary, but it was evil. I couldn't bear dragging you into it again. Ron is finally getting better…'

'I-' He meant to protest, to say that he could handle it. Perhaps he could, but he realised that she as always had thought a step ahead and understood that the others would have come too.

Pained by the way the tears still ran down her cheeks, he traced her cheekbone with the back of his hands, gently wiping away the tears with his fingers.

Hermione's eyes closed and the sobbing subsided. Happy with the effects, Harry repeated the move on her other cheek.

He let his hand drop and observed her, not sure what to say.

'I really am sorry for what I did,' said Hermione softly, her warm brown eyes meeting his.

'It's f-'

They did not get any further before a full squad of aurors arrived in a chorus of cracks.

'What in the blazes is going on here?' someone called. Several of the aurors moved quickly to the first best bush to throw up at the gruesome sight.

From the crowd that had maintained reasonable control of themselves, Kingsley Shacklebolt came walking briskly, causing both the both of them to straighten up.

'This is your handiwork, I assume?' he said, eying Hermione.

'I'm afraid so, sir.'

'When I gave you the license to kill, this was not exactly what I had in mind,' said Shacklebolt, gesturing at the mutilated corpses. He sighed deeply.

'But to hell with it. You have done admirably, despite the methods. Did any get away?'

The brunette nodded.

'One and of course, our snitch. It does not matter, though. Lucious Malfoy is stunned by my bookshop and Bellatrix Lestrange is dead. They are leaderless now.'

'Very well,' said Shacklebolt with a nod. 'The investigation unit is going to give me hell for this when I tell them to find the identity of those people and I plan to tell them to blame you.'

The Vanguard snorted and laughed.

'Go ahead, I'm taking a vacation.'