Time does not exist for those gifted with eternal life. It is impossible to explain the feeling of being so totally un-hurried in everything you do. What did hours, days, months or even years matter to him now? At first Harry had revelled in his freedom and spent an incomprehensible amount of time doing nothing.

He would find a cave, and simply watch the world drift on. He'd watched countless sunrises and sunsets, winter would turn to spring and spring to summer. Around and around the seasons circled; but eventually Harry grew tired of his own thoughts, dreams and, eventually, even his own company.

He'd then taken up the position of guardian and watched as decades passed, centuries crumbled and men repeated their mistakes and their victories.

He watched as one Dark Lord took the place of another over and over again… Sometimes, like before, the Light would win and sometimes the Dark would claim victory. But the fundamentals of life never changed. And slowly Harry had forgotten the difference between good and evil. Harry wasn't within that world anymore, he was just an observer now.

But, like before Harry grew tired of watching and eventually he returned to that world. He'd returned to Hogwarts and Diagon Ally only to find those buried beneath the ever changing earth. Not even ruins were left.

On a whim he'd tried to track down the descendants of his friends, but their lines has since been bred into obscurity. The names Malfoy, Granger and Weasley had no meaning in the world anymore; and neither did Harry Potter.

So he had donned a false identity, and he disguised his inhuman appearance and joined in the bloodshed. As the world repeated it's cycle of peace and war, sometimes Harry would fight for the light, and sometimes he fought for the dark.

However after a time Harry grew to be, once again, unsatisfied. And then suddenly he knew why, he knew would never be. Not until he found her. The only other to share this eternal life; his mate, his Bella…

Their game had begun that night.

He chased her, tried to track her down; but she always remained just out of reach, always disappearing… Each time he rounded a corner, it would be empty. He would reach for her hand and only ever grasp cloth, he'd come away with a scarf or a strip of silk, and it would smell of her… It was an elegant dance, stretched out over decades and continents.

He knew he would never corner her, she would come to him; but that didn't mean he would stop looking, stop chasing or stop hoping.

Harry had not bothered to learn the name of the Royal Family's ball that he'd crashed the night he spotted her, across the dance floor.

She wore a glamour but he still could see her true appearance beneath the lie. The strapless black cocktail dress swirled around her as her date spun her. His eyes followed her dark markings as they twisted over her legs, her arms and across her back.

She took Harry's breath away.

His eyes narrowed and he growled when her date's hands slipped down from her waist to her arse. He pulled her close grinding against her, she had glanced over his shoulder and their eyes met. Metallic blue glinted with mischief. Harry slipped onto the dance floor and tapped the muggle on the shoulder. He turned and his eyes swept over Harry.

"Can I help you?" The wanker asked.

Harry had barley glanced at the man, he only had eyes for his mate. He hadn't been this close in two centuries. She was even more beautiful close up, Harry took a deep breath taking in her scent.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" Harry held his hand out, palm up. Bella smirked and gently placed her hand in his.

"You may." She had said, and ohhow they had danced, Harry swirled her and pulled her close and she pushed away and let him catch her and pull her close again. They touched, the most they had touched since before Harry had killed Voldemort. Harry was positively giddy with desire and love and happiness.

And then the music ended and Bella stepped away from Harry. Her hand slipped from his grasp and someone bumped into his shoulder, he glanced away and then when he had looked back, she was gone.

Harry sighed and leaned back against the thick grass and stared at the clear blue sky. He wondered when he would see her again. He tortured himself with these memories, these glimpses of her… Harry wondered when she would finally let him catch her, when he would finally feel whole, complete and satisfied again.

With his thoughts still filled with Bella Harry's eyes eventually drifted closed…

"Hey there tiga'" A slick voice said above him, startling him.

Smirking he opened his eyes to see the one and only, "Bella." Leaning over him, grinning. Metallic green met blue, she hadn't changed. Not since he'd woken on that steel table.

But he had, she'd changed him that night and he'd continued changing for many years thereafter. Both physically, and mentally. His stance was that of a man now, one who had seen the world. He would never grow any older, physically. He was so ready…

"Shall we?" She asked holding out her hand. Harry looked at her and smiled. He reached out and grasped it, pulling himself up. They stood together, holding hands for hours before Harry spoke.

"You read my mind."