Chapter 25
Percy woke suddenly to a violently knocking on his door. He scrambled for his glasses and tried to finger-comb his unruly mop of hair. Next to him Oliver snuffled and rolled over, muttering nonsense before going back to sleep. Percy shook his head at his husband, then glared blearily at the door as the knocking started again.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold on a tick!" He called, pulling on an oversized (they were Oliver's) pair of sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. He pulled open the door and blinked blearily at the excited form in front of him.
"Hermione? What on earth are you doing here at this hour?"
"The cloud, Percy, the great cloud! I know what it is!"
Percy stared at Hermione, his fuzzy mind trying to wrap itself around what she was saying.
"You know what the great cloud is."
"I know what the great cloud is."
He stared at her in her excitement and she stared back, not offering any more information.
"Well, are you going to tell me?" Percy asked, slightly annoyed.
"Oh! Right...well...I was getting ready to go to bed and was digging though my trunk for a book to read, when I came across this."
She held out the book and Percy took it, looking at it in wonder. It was a plain leather book, no title, with twin snakes, one gold and one copper, entwined on the cover. He opened the book and read the title on the page.
"The Never Ending Story..." his brow furrowed, "well, that's a bit odd. Why write a book with no ending?" Hermione rolled her eyes and took the book back.
"This book ends, Percy, really. The title comes from the book that this book is about." Percy blinked at her, not comprehending in his foggy sleep state. "The main character, Bastion, finds a book called "The Never Ending Story" while hiding from some bullies. He sneaks into the school attic and begins to read, getting lost in the story of Atreau, the great warrior boy, as he tries to find a human boy to save the Child-like Empress. Meanwhile, Fantasia, the land they live in is slowly being destroyed because nobody daydreams anymore and it creates a giant shadow called-"
"The Nothing!" Percy exclaimed. "I know the story, but here in the wizarding world we call it, "The Trials of Bastion and Atreau."
"Oh."
Percy covered his mouth with his hand as the thought it over.
"You know what this means? This means that Voldemort has summoned the Nothing!" Percy shook his head.
"No, I don't think so."
"We have to tell Dumbledore!" Hermione turned to race down the hall. Percy caught her arm.
"Not so fast, Mione. The Nothing hasn't moved in the last few hours and I doubt it will before morning. He may not show it often, but Dumbldore is an old man, and he needs his rest. We can tell him in the morning."
"But-"
"No buts. It's late, or early, rather. Go to bed. We'll tell him in the morning. I promise."
"Ok. Goodnight, Percy."
"Night." Hermione turned and left the hall, book hanging loose by her side. Percy closed the door and shook his head, "and she's the reasonable one," he muttered. Shedding glasses and pants and he climbed back into bed. Oliver, still deeply asleep, wrapped Percy in his arms. Percy smiled and kissed Oliver's forehead, once again drifting off to sleep.
***
The sun was still below it's horizon when Methos opened his eyes the next morning. He cracked his neck and turned to look at Severus.
'Sleeping like a baby,' he thought to himself. He snorted internally. 'Not for long.' Without warning his hand flew from under the covers and whapped Severus on the chest. He started and jerked awake, his hand reaching for his wand.
"You don't want to do that," Methos said, his voice still gravelly from sleep. Severus stared dumbly at Methos. Realizing, finally, what was happening, Severus glared.
"You know," Severus said, "There are more pleasant ways of wakening me up in the morning." Methos nodded.
"Yes, I know, but none are so effective, will keep you on alert, and won't end up with me staying in bed with you." Severus smiled at that.
"True, but I have been a spy for the Order on Dumbledore and his inner circle for19 years and counting. I am ever vigilant." Methos snorted.
"You sound like Mad-Eye Moody." Severus scowled.
"Neve compare me to that psycho, please. I am nothing like Moody. If I was I wouldn't be here with you now."
"And you're better looking."
"Yes, and I'm better looking."
As they listed the differences they began getting ready and dressing; Methos in his white kendo pants and Severus in his black sweats. Severus grabbed their equipment bag as Methos grabbed their towels and the pair quietly made their way to their practice area.
***
The Bloody Baron floated down the dungeon corridor. He had just finished a particularly satisfying bout of Peeves punishing. Up ahead he sensed motion. Some students out of bed when they weren't supposed to be? He could only hope. It had been way too long since he had scared someone living. With the ease of any spectral projection, the Baron sank into the wall, waiting for his prey.
"Why do I always get stuck carrying this thing? Why can't you carry it for once?"
"Because I'm older than you, I get to designate, not be delegated."
"That's bullocks and you know it."
The Baron sighed. It was Severus and Methos on their way to their training room. They were never scared of him, though he did enjoy Methos' company. Resigned to his fate, the Baron floated once more out of the wall, right into their path.
"Good Morning, Baron." Severus said respectfully. Methos grinned.
"Good morning, indeed. And how are you on this wonderful pre-dawn?" The Baron scowled.
"I'm bloody bored, that's what I am. The students have all been following the rules, lately. I've had no one to scare in week, unless you count Peeves and Binns, but it's just not the same." Methos tilted his head consolingly.
"I'm sorry to hear that Baron. Unfortunately, Severus and I must be off or we'll loose the time to practice. But if your up for a spot of violence, you are welcome to come watch, and maybe even figure a way to let you duel again." The Baron perked up slightly (so slightly, in fact, that only Methos noticed) and nodded.
"Very well. I shall join you. I have been to the room on my own enough to know where it is. I will meet you two there." He then passed through the wall once more. Severus shook his head at Methos.
"How did you ever become friends with the Bloody Baron?"
"Oh, I killed him."
Severus did a double take.
"You what?"
"I killed him, oh, ages ago, when this castle was still Inverness and he owned the place."
"Inverness? Isn't that Macbeth's castle?" Methos just looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "No...no, no, no. The Bloody Baron is NOT Macbeth." Methos just smiled and walked away. "Methos...Methos...damnit Methos!" Severus sped up after Methos, his lover's tell tale cackle echoing down the hallway.
***
Metal crashed on Metal, the distinctive ringing loud and familiar. Sparks fly on a particularly hard hit as the two combatants circled round each other, neither giving any ground. They separated, and watched the other for a sign of weakness, when suddenly the one in black cried out, and dropped to the floor, clutching his arm in agony. The air of battle disappeared immediately.
"Severus!" Methos jumped to his lover's side, touching his shoulder in concern. "Is it the mark?" Severus nodded, his teeth grit, unable to speak for the moment. After too many tense moments Severus relaxed, going limp.
"I have to go," his voice was dead and his eyes stared blankly.
"I know," Methos said softly. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I want that Voldemort dead and gone." Severus' head finally turned and he focused on Methos' face. His lips twitched in what was almost a smile.
"You and me both."
***
Early the next morning Percy and Hermione found themselves in front of the Gargoyle to Dumbledore's office. "Ice Mice," Percy said, and the gargoyle moved to the side, permitting them entry. When they entered the office they found Dumbledore there, waiting for them.
"Hello, dears. I believe you wanted to see me? Lemon Drop?"
"No thank you, Headmaster. You know why we're here," Percy said, a trace of the perfect prefect coming back into his voice.
"Yes. You have something to tell me about this cloud over the Forbidden Forest."
"It's the Nothing."
Dumbledore looked slightly confused, "From the Trials of Bastion and Atreau?" Percy nodded.
"The same."
"That is troubling," Dumbledore murmured. "And you believe Voldemort had summoned it?"
"Yes."
"No, I don't think so," Percy said. "It requires a tremendous amount of power to do so, and considering that he's still supporting two immortals in life...I don't believe he had that kind of power...unless..." Percy didn't finish. He didn't need to. They were all thinking the same thing.
Unless Voldemort had more power than they had possibly imagined.
Percy and Hermione both excused themselves. They had classes to go to.
Dumbledore poured himself some tea. And had another lemon drop.
***
Later that night Methos was once again in Dumbledore's office, sipping firewhisky and sucking on lemon-drops. It was becoming a routine. Unlike normal, however, Minerva and Cassandra were absent. Methos stared into his tumbler.
"I don't know how much longer Severus is going to be able to do this, Albus," Methos said quietly in a tone few had heard from his mouth before. Each time he's called the pain is worse."
"I take it it's stopped fluctuating, then?" Methos nodded.
"Yes. He commented the other day that the last time the calls fluctuated was when he was first initiated. I think now, that was why the pain wasn't consistent. Even though he had the mark before, his healing made the skin like new, and the memory of the curse was forgotten. Since it had been re- cast it's acting like a new mark."
"And the pain increase?"
"A reaction to his quickening."
"Ah," Dumbledore nodded and picked at a scone. "And how are you dealing with this?" Methos snickered.
"What happened to you normal subtlety and tact, Albus?"
"It's on vacation." Methos laughed, a deep belly laugh that was part humor, part hysterics, and part firewhiskey. When he calmed he answered Dumbledore's question seriously.
"I'm worried. The Death Eaters know who I am, or, at least, my brothers who work with Voldemort do, though I don't think he knows where I am, yet. If he were to find out where I am, or even that Severus and I share more than an acquaintance as co-workers, Severus' life can be made into a living hell. Voldemort knows about immortals, he has two who can identify him, and he likes torture. So, to answer your question, Albus, no, I'm not doing very well. Not very well at all."
Albus looked into his tea. The only thing to do now was wait, and for the only man in the world who could one up Albus in mind games, he had no comfort.
TBC
Sorry it took so long to get out...I lost my notebook so I had to rewrite the entire thing, plus life kept getting in the way. It should be slowing down a bit, though, so I'll be updating a bit more regularly.
Any questions, ask.
Any art, please give.
Reviews are ALWAYS welcome.
Thank you to all reviewers who kicked my butt into gear on this stuff.
I was, am, and will always be, Immortaljedi
Percy woke suddenly to a violently knocking on his door. He scrambled for his glasses and tried to finger-comb his unruly mop of hair. Next to him Oliver snuffled and rolled over, muttering nonsense before going back to sleep. Percy shook his head at his husband, then glared blearily at the door as the knocking started again.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold on a tick!" He called, pulling on an oversized (they were Oliver's) pair of sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. He pulled open the door and blinked blearily at the excited form in front of him.
"Hermione? What on earth are you doing here at this hour?"
"The cloud, Percy, the great cloud! I know what it is!"
Percy stared at Hermione, his fuzzy mind trying to wrap itself around what she was saying.
"You know what the great cloud is."
"I know what the great cloud is."
He stared at her in her excitement and she stared back, not offering any more information.
"Well, are you going to tell me?" Percy asked, slightly annoyed.
"Oh! Right...well...I was getting ready to go to bed and was digging though my trunk for a book to read, when I came across this."
She held out the book and Percy took it, looking at it in wonder. It was a plain leather book, no title, with twin snakes, one gold and one copper, entwined on the cover. He opened the book and read the title on the page.
"The Never Ending Story..." his brow furrowed, "well, that's a bit odd. Why write a book with no ending?" Hermione rolled her eyes and took the book back.
"This book ends, Percy, really. The title comes from the book that this book is about." Percy blinked at her, not comprehending in his foggy sleep state. "The main character, Bastion, finds a book called "The Never Ending Story" while hiding from some bullies. He sneaks into the school attic and begins to read, getting lost in the story of Atreau, the great warrior boy, as he tries to find a human boy to save the Child-like Empress. Meanwhile, Fantasia, the land they live in is slowly being destroyed because nobody daydreams anymore and it creates a giant shadow called-"
"The Nothing!" Percy exclaimed. "I know the story, but here in the wizarding world we call it, "The Trials of Bastion and Atreau."
"Oh."
Percy covered his mouth with his hand as the thought it over.
"You know what this means? This means that Voldemort has summoned the Nothing!" Percy shook his head.
"No, I don't think so."
"We have to tell Dumbledore!" Hermione turned to race down the hall. Percy caught her arm.
"Not so fast, Mione. The Nothing hasn't moved in the last few hours and I doubt it will before morning. He may not show it often, but Dumbldore is an old man, and he needs his rest. We can tell him in the morning."
"But-"
"No buts. It's late, or early, rather. Go to bed. We'll tell him in the morning. I promise."
"Ok. Goodnight, Percy."
"Night." Hermione turned and left the hall, book hanging loose by her side. Percy closed the door and shook his head, "and she's the reasonable one," he muttered. Shedding glasses and pants and he climbed back into bed. Oliver, still deeply asleep, wrapped Percy in his arms. Percy smiled and kissed Oliver's forehead, once again drifting off to sleep.
***
The sun was still below it's horizon when Methos opened his eyes the next morning. He cracked his neck and turned to look at Severus.
'Sleeping like a baby,' he thought to himself. He snorted internally. 'Not for long.' Without warning his hand flew from under the covers and whapped Severus on the chest. He started and jerked awake, his hand reaching for his wand.
"You don't want to do that," Methos said, his voice still gravelly from sleep. Severus stared dumbly at Methos. Realizing, finally, what was happening, Severus glared.
"You know," Severus said, "There are more pleasant ways of wakening me up in the morning." Methos nodded.
"Yes, I know, but none are so effective, will keep you on alert, and won't end up with me staying in bed with you." Severus smiled at that.
"True, but I have been a spy for the Order on Dumbledore and his inner circle for19 years and counting. I am ever vigilant." Methos snorted.
"You sound like Mad-Eye Moody." Severus scowled.
"Neve compare me to that psycho, please. I am nothing like Moody. If I was I wouldn't be here with you now."
"And you're better looking."
"Yes, and I'm better looking."
As they listed the differences they began getting ready and dressing; Methos in his white kendo pants and Severus in his black sweats. Severus grabbed their equipment bag as Methos grabbed their towels and the pair quietly made their way to their practice area.
***
The Bloody Baron floated down the dungeon corridor. He had just finished a particularly satisfying bout of Peeves punishing. Up ahead he sensed motion. Some students out of bed when they weren't supposed to be? He could only hope. It had been way too long since he had scared someone living. With the ease of any spectral projection, the Baron sank into the wall, waiting for his prey.
"Why do I always get stuck carrying this thing? Why can't you carry it for once?"
"Because I'm older than you, I get to designate, not be delegated."
"That's bullocks and you know it."
The Baron sighed. It was Severus and Methos on their way to their training room. They were never scared of him, though he did enjoy Methos' company. Resigned to his fate, the Baron floated once more out of the wall, right into their path.
"Good Morning, Baron." Severus said respectfully. Methos grinned.
"Good morning, indeed. And how are you on this wonderful pre-dawn?" The Baron scowled.
"I'm bloody bored, that's what I am. The students have all been following the rules, lately. I've had no one to scare in week, unless you count Peeves and Binns, but it's just not the same." Methos tilted his head consolingly.
"I'm sorry to hear that Baron. Unfortunately, Severus and I must be off or we'll loose the time to practice. But if your up for a spot of violence, you are welcome to come watch, and maybe even figure a way to let you duel again." The Baron perked up slightly (so slightly, in fact, that only Methos noticed) and nodded.
"Very well. I shall join you. I have been to the room on my own enough to know where it is. I will meet you two there." He then passed through the wall once more. Severus shook his head at Methos.
"How did you ever become friends with the Bloody Baron?"
"Oh, I killed him."
Severus did a double take.
"You what?"
"I killed him, oh, ages ago, when this castle was still Inverness and he owned the place."
"Inverness? Isn't that Macbeth's castle?" Methos just looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "No...no, no, no. The Bloody Baron is NOT Macbeth." Methos just smiled and walked away. "Methos...Methos...damnit Methos!" Severus sped up after Methos, his lover's tell tale cackle echoing down the hallway.
***
Metal crashed on Metal, the distinctive ringing loud and familiar. Sparks fly on a particularly hard hit as the two combatants circled round each other, neither giving any ground. They separated, and watched the other for a sign of weakness, when suddenly the one in black cried out, and dropped to the floor, clutching his arm in agony. The air of battle disappeared immediately.
"Severus!" Methos jumped to his lover's side, touching his shoulder in concern. "Is it the mark?" Severus nodded, his teeth grit, unable to speak for the moment. After too many tense moments Severus relaxed, going limp.
"I have to go," his voice was dead and his eyes stared blankly.
"I know," Methos said softly. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I want that Voldemort dead and gone." Severus' head finally turned and he focused on Methos' face. His lips twitched in what was almost a smile.
"You and me both."
***
Early the next morning Percy and Hermione found themselves in front of the Gargoyle to Dumbledore's office. "Ice Mice," Percy said, and the gargoyle moved to the side, permitting them entry. When they entered the office they found Dumbledore there, waiting for them.
"Hello, dears. I believe you wanted to see me? Lemon Drop?"
"No thank you, Headmaster. You know why we're here," Percy said, a trace of the perfect prefect coming back into his voice.
"Yes. You have something to tell me about this cloud over the Forbidden Forest."
"It's the Nothing."
Dumbledore looked slightly confused, "From the Trials of Bastion and Atreau?" Percy nodded.
"The same."
"That is troubling," Dumbledore murmured. "And you believe Voldemort had summoned it?"
"Yes."
"No, I don't think so," Percy said. "It requires a tremendous amount of power to do so, and considering that he's still supporting two immortals in life...I don't believe he had that kind of power...unless..." Percy didn't finish. He didn't need to. They were all thinking the same thing.
Unless Voldemort had more power than they had possibly imagined.
Percy and Hermione both excused themselves. They had classes to go to.
Dumbledore poured himself some tea. And had another lemon drop.
***
Later that night Methos was once again in Dumbledore's office, sipping firewhisky and sucking on lemon-drops. It was becoming a routine. Unlike normal, however, Minerva and Cassandra were absent. Methos stared into his tumbler.
"I don't know how much longer Severus is going to be able to do this, Albus," Methos said quietly in a tone few had heard from his mouth before. Each time he's called the pain is worse."
"I take it it's stopped fluctuating, then?" Methos nodded.
"Yes. He commented the other day that the last time the calls fluctuated was when he was first initiated. I think now, that was why the pain wasn't consistent. Even though he had the mark before, his healing made the skin like new, and the memory of the curse was forgotten. Since it had been re- cast it's acting like a new mark."
"And the pain increase?"
"A reaction to his quickening."
"Ah," Dumbledore nodded and picked at a scone. "And how are you dealing with this?" Methos snickered.
"What happened to you normal subtlety and tact, Albus?"
"It's on vacation." Methos laughed, a deep belly laugh that was part humor, part hysterics, and part firewhiskey. When he calmed he answered Dumbledore's question seriously.
"I'm worried. The Death Eaters know who I am, or, at least, my brothers who work with Voldemort do, though I don't think he knows where I am, yet. If he were to find out where I am, or even that Severus and I share more than an acquaintance as co-workers, Severus' life can be made into a living hell. Voldemort knows about immortals, he has two who can identify him, and he likes torture. So, to answer your question, Albus, no, I'm not doing very well. Not very well at all."
Albus looked into his tea. The only thing to do now was wait, and for the only man in the world who could one up Albus in mind games, he had no comfort.
TBC
Sorry it took so long to get out...I lost my notebook so I had to rewrite the entire thing, plus life kept getting in the way. It should be slowing down a bit, though, so I'll be updating a bit more regularly.
Any questions, ask.
Any art, please give.
Reviews are ALWAYS welcome.
Thank you to all reviewers who kicked my butt into gear on this stuff.
I was, am, and will always be, Immortaljedi