Masters of Death Chapter 1, a Highlander + Harry Potter Crossover fanfic

Masters of Death by enchanted nightingale

Beta Reader: pussycatadamah

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun.

Timeline: 2005? →

Summary: What if immortals were not the only ones who could cheat death? How does the immortal known as Death meet with the only mortal who mastered Death?

Pair: Harry Potter/ Methos

Chapter 1

It had been raining the first day they met. It was in a small bakery in Paris, they had both been after the last cinnamon roll. To the immortal that went by Adam Pierson it was one of the best pastries he had ever tasted and to the wizard Harry Potter it was a habit he acquired when he joined the Muggle world. In the end no one backed down and the green eyed man suggested they shared it. Adam had laughed and accepted.

The second time wizard and immortal met Adam had sought Harry out, inviting him for a cup of coffee. It was then that he learned more personal information about the raven haired mortal that had captured his attention. Harry James Potter was twenty five years old, worked for fun and not because he had to. He loved the outdoors and only read books when it was raining. He also had a dry humour quite similar to his own when he wanted to. Adam also noticed how veteran-like he acted, always studying faces, his surrounding space and how he had his back covered. Harry Potter was a mystery and Adam liked mysteries, they made immortality interesting.

Harry's impression about Adam Pierson was that the man had eyes far older than the age he looked to be. His voice had a very British sound to it but under it there was the lilt of one who spoke many languages, travelled and seen a lot. Harry's curious nature had not abated since graduating Hogwarts but he had learned to curb it. So he did not ask a lot of personal questions. Just about his age, nationality and the like. When Adam had jokingly said he was over five thousand years old, Harry had studied the man carefully.

"You certainly have that look, in your eyes," Harry had replied.

Adam had coughed and looked decisively better when Harry changed the subject.

The third time they met it was for lunch. Adam noticed how the other man picked at his food, like a little sparrow really. It was then he realized that the younger man had been starved at some point, or been through a war. But there were no wars in Britain so that only left abuse. He knew it was not a question one asked a stranger so he swallowed his curiosity and complemented Harry's eyes.

"My mum's eyes," Harry replied. "The colour at least. The shade is completely different."

"She must be proud of you."

"I'd like to think so; she died when I was fifteen months old."

"Way to kill a conversation," Adam muttered to himself.

But the wizard just waved it off and complemented him on his choice of restaurant, thus abruptly but effectively changing the subject.

Harry did not realize when he first started noticing Adam in a different way. It just happened gradually. He started paying attention to Adam's voice, enjoying that elusive accent, the way he moved like a predator whenever he walked, the way he smiled. He did not even care when Adam used that cynical attitude of his to comment on people and things, in fact he found it an endearing quirk. When Harry started eyeing his hips and lips he started realizing that he wanted Adam to be more than his friend.

It was the smile and those bright emerald eyes that caught Adams attention, but it was Harry's personality that kept the immortal interested. The Immortal that had forgotten his true name after five thousand years had met a lot of people in his long life. Few things could impress him anymore or hold his interest for long but Harry had just that something that made him not want to leave the green eyed man's side. He was drawn to Harry and while he usually went for women (five thousand years were too long to stick to one gender), he was thinking about exploring what could be with this man.

The first time they went out to get drunk they ended up in Harry's apartment, sprawled on the floor, heads buzzing and tongues loose.

"You know, it's so easy being around you," Harry mumbled as he turned on his side, head resting against Adam's arm.

"Hmm," the immortal sighed and took another swig from his beer bottle.

"I've only known you for two months," Harry rambled. "And you just feel so…"

"Familiar," Adam finished. He turned his chin down and saw Harry looking at him. Those emerald eyes were unlike any other shade he had ever seen. It was like they glowed with lightning and fire.

"Familiar," Harry whispered his agreement.

Adam stared at him a bit more before he inched his head closer, his eyes never leaving Harry's gem like eyes.

When their lips touched, Harry sighed at the contact, like a weight from his chest had been lifted. He tilted his head more, giving Adam the chance to deepen their kiss.

They spent the whole night in that spot simply kissing till all the alcohol made them fall asleep.

The immortal enjoyed Harry's house as much as he enjoyed the owner. It was a small, two storey house with a view to the Seine. The inside had warm tapestries and wooden floors. The furniture looked like old, well preserved antiques; they even had a crest on them with Latin words written on them, but Adam was too distracted by the ancient books to bother. The researcher in him was like a kid in a candy store. Most books were biographies Harry would later tell him, but Adam liked that even more.

Harry enjoyed his life in the Muggle world. He had spent years away from the magical community living away from the fame and the attention that came with being the Boy-Who-Lived. When he had announced to Ron and Hermione he would be leaving the UK only the red head had been surprised. When he continued about his plans to live among Muggle's even Hermione had been surprised. But they had supported him, both of them, and Andromeda and his too cute for words godson. They supported him when Harry decided to go to a culinary school to be a chef, and again when he grew bored and restless and decided to study art. It had been a long but fulfilling decade and Harry was sufficiently distracted from the fact that while his friends grew, Andromeda earned grey hair and Teddy was now attending Hogwarts, Harry did not look a day older than the day he died in the forbidden forest.

"He looks nothing like Caesar," Adam protested.

"It's just a documentary," Harry told him.

"Well they could have found a better actor. And don't get me started on Cleopatra. She was not half as good looking as Taylor, not her face that is."

Harry blinked at him. "You really like your history."

Adam shrugged. "Just shut this off, it's a disgrace."

The wizard rolled his eyes. "It's raining. We cannot go outside."

"We could stay in…" Adam hinted.

"And do what?"

Adam gave him a suggestive look. "I can think of a few things."

Harry chuckled till Adam occupied his mouth with other activities.

They were shopping for wine. Adam had insisted he would cook for Harry. It was also the first time the wizard would visit Adam's house and the Gryffindor was feeling curious. He watched as his friend and boyfriend studied the labels on various bottles.

"We're taking the Bordeaux," Adam finally decided. "What do you think, one bottle or two?"

"Are you thinking of getting me drunk?" Harry faked being scandalized.

"You're onto my evil plan."

"You forgot the evil cackle," Harry helpfully reminded him.

"Damn, I knew I missed something."

Harry slept with Adam on his first visit at the man's house. It had not been the wine that had lowered his inhibitions; neither of them had even been buzzed after the first and only bottle they opened. But the warmth he had felt in his belly all evening while he watched the man work in the kitchen and then when he sat next to him at the table. Harry started feeling light headed around Adam even before he had tasted the wine. It just happened. One moment they were jokingly fighting over who would clear the table and the next they were kissing. Only when they started kissing Harry felt that warmth in his belly turn to heat. Next thing he knew clothes were flying and the two of them were trying to touch as much of each other's skin as they could.

Adam had never been gladder for having more than five millennia worth of experience in carnal pleasures and the stamina that he gained through battling other immortals, because both came in handy when he finally managed to get Harry into his bed (or at least part way there). Harry's body turned out fitter and firmer than he ever imagined, with a very nice tan that he only managed to pay attention to the following morning. The immortal had enjoyed every inch of his new lover and looked forward to having him again.

Harry was at his lover's house again. Adam's house was much like the owner, simple and mysterious at the same time. The stark white walls, the artwork that reminded Harry of torture devices he had seen in the dungeons of Hogwarts, the sheer number of leather bound tomes that looked out of place, it was too impersonal.

"So?" Adam waited for Harry's opinion.

"It's… boring."

"Boring?"

Harry nodded emphatically. "Much like you."

"You… Prepare to pay."

Harry bolted.

"No."

"But I want to," the shorter of the two complained.

"No."

"Why?"

"Just because."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Adam… Are you scared of snakes?"

The immortal sputtered. "I. Am. Not."

"Then come on."

Adam refused to move a foot closer to the reptile house of the zoo. The immortal had been bitten by a couple of cobras during his stay in Egypt and then again during his trips in Asia. He remembered the pain of the bite and the burn of the venom but he could not just tell Harry.

"Adam, they are enclosed behind glass. Nothing can hurt you. Now come on."

Adam's hand was tagged again and he all but stumbled inside the dark place, staying close to his partner.

During their too long for his taste visit, the immortal noticed how all the cold blooded creatures ignored the rest of the visitors and focused solely on Harry.

They were in bed one morning and Harry's attention was once again drawn to the tattoo on Adam's left wrist. Harry had a very bad experience with tattoos. Voldemort's not so merry band of men had tattoos. Harry himself got a tattoo on his eighteenth birthday. George had been drunk that day and an equally drunk Harry had not raised any objections. That was the reason Adam was now trailing the ink-made black phoenix that was perched and seemed ready to fly on Harry's left shoulder blade.

Adam had been scandalized to realize that Harry did not have a car. So car hunting it was that day. And Adam's obsession with cars was worse than Ron Weasley's love for food. Harry surrendered himself to a day full of cars, boring terminology and weird mechanical terms. After five hours of car hunting even Adam lost his stoicism and gave up on him.

"Well, you just decide for yourself. I give up."

"Good, cause I like that one," Harry declared, making both his lover and the car salesman gasp as Harry's pointing finger showed a very small, silver Peugeot . "What? It's cute and shiny."

The other two groaned.

Harry loved Adam's clothes. They were usually larger than the man's frame and made Adam look smaller in them, weaker, hiding his true self like a disguise. But Harry liked that they covered his muscled body too well leaving the wizard to enjoy the fact that he alone knew what lay underneath. But it was not possessiveness of the owner that made Harry like those clothes, it was also the smell they had after Adam had worn them. So Harry started borrowing his lover's clothes so that he could enjoy Adam's scent when they were apart. His lover at first looked confused but then he caught on and looked even a bit smug whenever he spotted Harry wearing his clothes.

Adam tried to understand why Harry did not like having his picture taking. Once a photographer had offered him a chance to model and the immortal knew Harry could actually pull it off; he was a handsome man and his eyes were captivating, not to mention that deliciously slim and toned body that was obstructed by those clothes. But Harry had politely declined, claiming he was not comfortable with cameras. Adam thought to his own discomfort at leaving evidence of his existence and for the first time wondered if Harry had anything to hide.

Harry pouted. He hated when Adam was more focused on his work. There were days when those leather bound tomes were taking all of Adam's attention and time. The smell some of them had reminded him of the ancient books back in the library at Hogwarts, the parchments he used for seven years to write his homework. One day he gave into his curiosity and asked Adam if he could read one of the oldest ones. His lover merely chuckled.

"Go ahead," he had urged him.

Harry did. And he was surprised to realize the book was written in Latin. He had learned the language at some point so he had no trouble reading the book. So he got comfortable and started reading.

Adam was shocked to see his lover reading through the chronicles that detailed his exploits in ancient Rome. Then came the realization that his lover, who usually hated reading books knew Latin and was currently actually reading his memoirs.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"You know Latin?"

"Sure. I went to a boarding school for seven years."

Adam swallowed. "Do you know any other language?"

"French. Little bit of Romanian. Ancient Greek, though my pronunciation sucks. And I had to learn Chinese cause I lost a bet. Oh, and I spend a couple of years in Egypt with some… archaeologists so I can read a few hieroglyphics too. Oh! I know Gaelic as well…" Harry tailed off, trying to remember to leave the magical languages out of his list.

The immortal felt a bit faint and even started wondering if immortals could get heart attacks. The way things were going he would not be able to hide things from Harry long and…

"This is a cool story," Harry spoke again. "Are you aspiring to be a writer?"

"Not really, no; just a hobby of mine."

"Pity. This stuff is a great read," Harry complimented him. Then he curled in his spot and continued reading.

For their six month anniversary they visited Chateau de Siorac, a charming 16th century French Chateau in the heart of the Dordogne. They stayed for four days, just the two of them in that castle, enjoying each other away from everyone else. And it was magical. Adam did not leave Harry out of his sight for longer than a few minutes. Those four days were spent much like Ron and Hermione's honeymoon from what Harry had heard from his bushy haired friend.

They met outside, at a small coffee shop. Adam gave him a quick peck on the lips before claiming the seat next to Harry. Then he noticed the newspaper.

"I'm checking for places to rent or buy," Harry told him when he asked.

"What for?"

"I'm thinking of opening a store."

"A store?"

"Mm. I want to bake things."

Adam smiled. "Like croissants?" he said in a perfect French accent.

"Yes, those too. But mostly pies, cakes, stuff like that."

"My Harry, a baker."

"Your Harry, am I?"

"Mine, all mine."

Harry smiled at him and gave him a rather heated kiss that drew whistles from the other patrons.

Harry found a place for his shop rather quickly. There was not another bakery nearby so he believed he had pretty good chances of making his shop earn something. It had a ground floor and a small attic above. On the ground floor there would be comfortable couches alongside the left wall, with fluffy pillows, all in rich warm reds and creams and comfortable chairs facing the walls creating an alley that led to the back. There was a staircase that led to the attic with more couches and tables. The floors were wooden and just needed polishing and the walls needed new tapestry. There was also place on the ground floor for Harry's dream kitchen, a display of the baked goods and a loo.

"Quaint," Adam said when he saw it.

"Yes, it's lovely," Harry commented.

"You are not taking my words the way I intended them."

"There, there wittle Addie…"

"Are you using baby talk?" the immortal was scandalized.

"What was that my tasty little treacle tart?"

"Not that infernal nickname!"

Harry arched his right eyebrow.

Adam caved. "Fine! I'll stop making cynical comments. The place is lovely Harry."

"Thank you!"

Adam's bed was filled with catalogues and order forms with everything Harry needed for his shop. It was a real mess when Hurricane Harry made his house a catalogue. But the immortal enjoyed it. Harry was around for longer intervals so Adam learned some rather cute habits his lover had. Like the fact that Harry loved drinking his coffee straight but his tea with at least two sugars. When Harry brainstormed he enjoyed pacing and muttering to himself in an amalgamation of languages. Harry also took very, very long bubble baths when he tried to think and he would stay in the water till he almost turned into a prune. Whenever he was nervous he would worry his lower lip till he drew blood. He also had the habit of patting his hand to his forehead. He was also obsessed with cleanliness in the kitchen but loved the mess and disorder in the rest of the house. And Adam enjoyed every quirk that was revealed to him. Especially the one with the bubble baths as Harry tended to ask Adam to join him.

It took Harry three months to fix everything up in the shop, get a license and all the other papers he needed and one more month to actually figure out a name for the place. The idea came from Adam. One night, after a whole day Harry had spent being frustrated by the repairmen, Adam had finally shut him up with a kiss, ordered him to shower and then pushed him on a bed where he went about giving Harry the best massage of his life. By the end of it Harry was putty in his lover's expert hands.

"How about 'Sugary Goodness'?"

Harry stiffened beneath his hands. "Why don't I throw a bucket of pink color and frills while I'm at it?" he snarked.

"No?"

"No."

"Okay then. How about 'Uncle Harry's Baked Goodies'?"

"No."

"Harry's corner? Or Perhaps 'Petit Mort'?"

"Adam…"

"The Big Bun?"

Harry twitched.

"No."

"Then…"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"Something perverted," Harry muttered.

"I don't understand where you got that ridiculous idea that I'm a pervert."

"Adam, every word that comes out of your mouth is either cynical, sarcastic or contains sexual innuendos."

The immortal denied it but Harry simply smiled into the mattress. It was fun teasing his lover.

"I can forgive you if you do something for me," Harry said then.

"What?"

"Keep moving those hands. And don't try naming my shop."

Adam gave an exaggerated sigh and started working on Harry again. Inwardly he wondered at Harry's ability to manipulate him but he filed it away. He could get even easily enough.

Adam Pierson had done a lot of things in his long life. Dating a baker had never been one nor had been baking things himself. The shop would be opening later that day and Harry had woken up at three in the morning to prepare for the day. The immortal poured more flour to keep the dough from sticking to his fingers. Harry was observing from his bench; he was finishing up the cakes. Every now and then he would giggle at his lover's struggle. Adam knew he looked ridiculous but all the same enjoyed the time he spent with Harry even if he was covered in flour and sugar.

"How are you doing there?" Harry asked him.

"It's going…" the immortal replied. "Just tell me we won't be doing that every day."

"We won't," Harry promised.

"Thank the gods," Adam sighed.

In the end Harry's shop was named 'The Bakery' for lack of imagination. From the first week it became quite the hit with the locals and after a month of steadily increasing clientele Harry was hopeful it would be a good business. The wizard had asked Adam's help only that one day. After that he went two hours before the shop opened and with the help of a House Elf named Fifi the wizard had purchased as extra help around the shop. After the first week he also hired Mirka, a young French squib, that was delighted to work in a semi magical shop. This way Harry had no trouble working his magic in the kitchen and he had time to spend with his lover.

When that call from the States came Adam felt worry for the first time during that decade. Joe Dawson called him to let him know that some immortal named Kalas was hunting for Methos, the elusive five thousand year old Immortal that Adam was supposed to be researching as a Watcher. He also learned that one of his good friends, a researcher and archivist for the Watchers' organization, had been killed by Kalas. Joe told him that while Kalas was on a warpath, another immortal was trying to stop him, one Duncan MacLeod. And they were already in France. Adam feared that his perfect days with Harry were coming to an end.

Harry was worried. There was something wrong with Adam. His lover had been jittery lately. He kept looking over his shoulder and he avoided certain parts of Paris like the plague was still there. The wizard wanted to ask what was wrong but he also did not want to intrude. Finally, after a week of weird behavior from Adam Harry asked about his strange behavior.

"I… I want to tell you," Adam told Harry. "I truly do. But I do not know whether you can take it."

"Is it a third person?"

"What?"

"Adam, are you having an affair?"

"No!"

A weight Harry did not even know he had left him. "Then what are you worried about?"

Adam did not answer him and Harry kept worrying.

That day at the shop was busy and Harry did not even have time to think about his relationship. Fifi and Mirka were kept equally busy and Harry worked the cash register. There were not many Muggle's that could get Harry's attention, but when a tall man with long dark hair came inside. He sort of stood out from his Muggle clients and the elderly wizard couple that started coming to his shop every day for coffee.

"Hello," the stranger walked to the counter.

"Hello! Welcome to our shop. What would you like to order?" Harry asked.

"You're British." The man seemed surprised.

"You sound Scottish," Harry replied.

"I am. I'll take a croissant and a cappuccino."

"Will you sit or take it with you?"

"To go," the stranger with the Scottish lilt said.

Harry had a thoughtful look on his face after the man left. He did not think it was a coincidence that another man showed up that had the same aura as Adam. Harry stopped believing in coincidences years ago.

Methos had thought that adopting the identity of Adam Pierson would have offered him more cover. Now that he had access to the database of the Watcher's Council he knew where other immortals were most of the time and he could avoid them. He had not had to actually fight or take a head for two centuries. The Quickening's had gotten worse the older he became and he dreaded having them. Methos was hardly tired of being alive even after five millennia and he wanted to keep living. He held no illusions about his skills. He was good with the sword but he relied on skill and speed, not strength, he never had that. There were other Immortals that were far stronger than him. Methos would not lose his head to this Kalas, no matter what the whelp wanted. If not for himself then at least for Harry. He did not want his lover to find his decapitated body. The only way to escape Kalas would be if MacLeod fought that guy first. It meant though that Methos would have to reveal his identity to the Highlander.

Harry watched the owl fly away and he tried to ignore the pang of sorrow he felt. Ever since Hedwig had taken that Killing Curse for him, Harry had not even thought about buying another owl. His friends at one point grew exasperated with him and bought him a male falcon. Harry had managed to keep Osiris away from his lover. A simple charm so that Muggle's would not notice the falcon, meaning Adam would not see his feathered helper either. The bird had its own home in Harry's attic and a perch in Teddy's room in Britain too. In fact, the envelope Harry was holding now came from his godson.

"Let's see what that boy is up to now," the proud godfather mused.

Adam had not expected company that afternoon seeing as Harry was busy that day. Feeling another immortal approach was the most certain way to spoil Methos' mood. The five thousand year old immortal kept his sword close to him. He relaxed only when he saw it was Duncan MacLeod who found him and not Kalas. The Highlander was exactly what Joe had said he would be but even he had not expected the man to be so bloody nice. He certainly was smart enough to realize that Adam was the famed oldest immortal. Adam then invited MacLeod out for a walk. Neither knew that Kalas was at that moment breaking into Adam's house.

They were in Harry's kitchen after yet another feast from Adam's hands. Harry was confused when Adam suggested that they should take a trip for a few days, just to get out of Paris. The timing was somewhat odd and while his lover was known for being spontaneous Harry found it suspicious that the man wanted to leave when he was so jittery. Something was definitely up and the wizard was not going to put up with it.

"Okay, spill," Harry ordered.

"What?" Adam seemed startled.

"You are ready to crawl out of your skin, like something's after you."

"Right…"

"Adam." Harry narrowed his eyes.

His lover sighed.

"I guess it's time then."

Harry frowned. "Time for what?"

The frown only deepened when he saw Adam taking hold of an extremely sharp kitchen knife. Before Harry could blink, his lover dragged the blade over his open palm. Harry cried out in shock when blood poured from the cut. He hurried for a towel but Adam asked him to stop.

"Look," he told Harry.

And the wizard could only stare as the cut that healed before his eyes.

"Harry," Adam's voice was low, trying to be soothing. "My love, I'm not like you. I cannot die, Harry. I'm an immortal Harry."

But the younger man was still staring at the blood.

"You… great… dork!"

"Dork?" Adam repeated.

Harry gave him a hard glare. "If you hurt yourself again for any stupid reason I'll kill you, you hear me?"

"Can't really die," Adam smirked.

"Still, I bet exsanguination can hurt."

"Harry…" The rest was cut off as his lover gave him an almost desperate kiss.

"Don't do that again," Harry pleaded when he pulled back.

"I won't hurt myself again," Adam replied.

"Promise me."

Adam held him tighter as he explained about the Immortals. He told Harry about him, that his real name was not Adam Pierson but Methos, the oldest immortal that currently walked the earth. He told Harry about the Game, the Quickening's, the Watchers.

"So what should I call you?" Harry asked in the end.

"Anything you want," the immortal replied.

"Methos," Harry tried the name. "It is catchy."

Harry had a lot more questions for his lover after the first shock wore off. For Harry to literally be with someone who could not die was odd. Harry had probably died as an infant, momentarily at least, and then again as the final battle culminated. The second death had been instant, painless. On the other hand Voldemort's second and final death could not be considered peaceful. The whole thing about death was odd for Harry. Especially now that he had all three Hallows again. It was funny how the Resurrection Stone he had ditched at the Forbidden Forest had been returned to him. One day when he was at Andromeda's house a snake had slithered over to him with the Gaunt ring carried on its tail. The snake had bobbed its head at him before offering the ring to Harry. The wizard had been left speechless. In a similar way the Elder wand that he had returned to Dumbledore's grave managed to return to Harry via Fawkes. The phoenix had flashed over to him when Harry first moved to France carrying the wand made from elder wood in his talons. Harry Potter was officially the Master of the Deathly Hallows. The results of this were still to be seen. Now he had to deal with an immortal boyfriend. Harry could only hope that no Horcruxes were involved this time.

Adam came home the day after his confession to Harry looking like a drowned rat. And the smell… It was awful. Harry was itching to use a 'Bubble head' charm to protect his nose. Then his sharp eyes caught the sword that Methos held in his grip.

"What happened?" Harry asked him. "Were you attacked?"

"Kalas," was all Adam said. "He was waiting for me near my house. Can I crash here?"

"Of course, you don't even need to ask," Harry responded. "You know where I keep your spare clothes."

Adam nodded. He placed his sword next to the coffee table and headed upstairs to change.

Harry followed after him, still worried about the immortal.

In the end Methos had concocted a plan to get rid of Kalas in a way that would not force him to leave Paris and the life he had built in this city. And he would not be leaving Harry behind, which was something he wanted even more. It had been dangerous but Adam had tracked down MacLeod and almost made the Highlander take his head. But the Scottish man had come through and in the end he went to face Kalas. That was when Methos stepped in. He had the French police interrupt the duel between the other two immortals and had them arrest Kalas for Dan Salzer's murder. He watched as Kalas was hauled away with a small amount of satisfaction.

"Why?" was the only thing MacLeod asked.

"Remember, Highlander, live, grow stronger. Fight another day," were Adam's parting words.

(Last line is a quote from the series)

Harry wiped the sweat from his brow. The last of his lover's things were in the house. Most of the books were put away on shelves and his clothes were already in Harry's closet. The rest of the weird artwork was in some rented warehouse as Harry did not want those monstrosities in his house.

"Was that everything?" Harry asked.

"Yes. And thank you for doing this," Methos told him.

"Don't be an idiot," Harry replied. He kissed his lover's lips while he walked past the man. "Mi casa es su casa and all that."

Methos kissed back. His gaze followed Harry's behind as the younger man went up the stairs. It was way better than staying alone in that apartment. Plus, he felt giddy just imagining MacLeod's face when he saw his old apartment empty.

It was near Christmas when a letter came and got Harry's complete attention.

"What is it?" Methos asked.

"Andromeda," Harry replied.

"I knew an Andromeda once," the immortal recalled. "She was a priestess of Hestia back in Athens around 300 B.C."

"She's a distant relative," Harry muttered. "And my godson's grandmother."

"You have a godson?"

"Yes, Teddy."

"From Theodore?"

"Mm, yes. And he's coming here for Y-Christmas."

"He is?"

Harry showed him the letter.

"What's Hogwarts?" Methos asked.

"A boarding school in Scotland," Harry replied. "He's twelve years old."

"Want me to move out for a few days?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry told him.

Teddy Lupin arrived via Port-key in the International Magical Terminal of France. Harry met with his little wolf and hugged the boy tightly.

"How I missed you little moon," he muttered into sky blue hair that changed to red to match the youth's embarrassed face.

"Harry," Teddy gleefully hugged back.

"Got your trunk?"

Teddy patted his pocket. "Shrunk and secure."

"Your wand?"

"Nowhere near my buttocks," Teddy informed.

Harry chuckled. "Come on then. How does hot chocolate and croissants sound?"

"Is there whipped cream?"

"Yes."

"And chocolate sprinkle?"

"Of course," Harry replied.

"Okay then," the younger wizard nodded.

"Good. Did your Gran place a Notice-Me-Not spell on your hair?"

"Yup!"

"Then we're good to go."

Methos had not been good with children since the time he had been one and those memories were so vague and faded that it did not count. When Harry returned home with his godson in tow it had been an awkward moment for the immortal. The boy had been shy at first but after the ice broke Methos had to struggle to keep up with him. And the ice broke over swords of all things. The immortal kept his secondary sword on the mantle above the fireplace now; Kalas might be in jail but he now had two immortals knowing that Adam Pierson was truly Methos. Teddy had pointed excitedly at the sword and compared it to some of Harry's collection, which was quite impressive as it turned out.

"Harry, you've been holding out on me," Methos pouted.

"I was not. You just never asked if I could handle a sword."

"I am now. Can you?"

"Somewhat. Nothing much though."

"I could teach you," Methos offered with a leer.

"Ewe. Gross. Don't kiss!" Teddy cried out.

"Why not? Don't Victoire's parents kiss?" Harry teased.

Teddy grimaced. "They're gross too. And Victoire agrees with me."

The adults shared an amused look.

"Well, if we don't kiss how about we eat?" Harry asked.

"Food!" Teddy crowed in delight. "Do you have meat?"

"Yes."

Teddy bit his lip. "Is it…" He snuck a glance at his godfather's partner.

"With blood, yes," Harry told the kid.

Then he ruffled his hair, much to Teddy's horror, though the boy also leaned closer to the touch, he was quite the affectionate creature.

"First though, wash your hands, both of you," Harry told his godson and to Methos.

Two identical groans came from the duo.

Adam spent the next fourteen days in a festive mood unlike any other. The immortal had worshiped many gods, the Egyptians, the Olympians. He had been worshiped as a god himself. Christianity had not been his religion though. And apparently it was not Harry's or Teddy's main religion. They were pagans. Teddy had let it slip at some point that it was Yule they celebrated. So on December 21st they burned the Yule log much like the old Celts used to do when Methos was much younger. It was like he had stepped back in time as far as Methos was concerned. And he enjoyed it immensely.

Teddy was raised as a pagan. His grandmother might have married a Muggleborn but she was a Black in blood. Teddy learned all about important wizarding traditions, celebrations and beliefs. But like any child he looked forward to opening presents, hence the wonderfully decorated tree with a small mountain of presents under it. The young boy had loved every single one of them. Like every year he received the best present from his godfather. Harry had given him a small wolf earring made of platinum (which Harry helped him put on almost immediately) and a collection of Muggle fantasy books that Teddy loved. And then Methos, who Teddy had been instructed to call Adam when they were not in the house and the boy did not question it, had given him his very own sword and it even had a wolf carved on the handle. After Harry had assured him it was not made of silver Teddy nearly choked Methos with his hug. For Teddy it was the best Yule ever.

Harry's gift to Methos was personally delivered in the form of a very sensual joined bath for the lovers and the leers the two exchanged over Teddy's head were making even Harry blush at times. The green eyed wizard liked how his two most favorite people got along so well. The immortal and the werewolf's son. It was so odd and so like something that could normally happen in Harry's life. At some point Harry hoped that he could introduce Methos to the magical world. But it was too soon and there were laws that even Harry would not cross. The Statue of secrecy was one of them and no matter his fame he knew which lines not to cross. Plus, Harry liked that he was the 'normal' one in this relationship.

Teddy was back to Hogwarts and the couple were back into a normal pace around the house. Harry was busy with the shop again and Methos was doing things that had to do with his job as a Watcher when that phone call came. It had been a month since Joe had spoken to this immortal and it seemed that there was trouble.

"What is it?" Harry was almost afraid to ask.

Methos' face was grave. "Seems that Kalas' escaped from prison."

Harry paled.

"But he's MacLeod's problem. I've got a bigger one. I told you about Don, right? His wife Christine knew about his job as a Watcher, consequently about Immortals too. Her perfect revenge against this killer and all Immortals in general seems to be exposing the secret of The Immortals and The Watchers. She plans on going public with this."

Harry now felt faint. "How? Nobody's going to believe her!"

Methos shrugged. "Joe is flying over. He wants to talk to her and he thought I should be there."

"I-That's too dangerous."

"She can't hurt me, Harry."

The wizard shook his head. This woman seemed like trouble and Harry hated that his lover had to be involved in this.

"Just be careful."

"Always am."

Harry saw Methos a few times the next days. It seemed the situation had been much more serious than he had originally thought. Harry knew how much secrecy helped the existence of secret communities; after all he belonged in one. The wizard understood the danger if the world found out that some people just could not age and unless beheaded they could live on forever. The jealousy and fear would be the end of immortals. Harry considered stepping in and Obliviating the woman that had pretty much threatened his lover but the impulsive teen he was years ago had hardened after the losses of the war. Harry would watch and only if things were too out of hand would he step in.

Adam cursed when MacLeod stepped up and got the bullet that Joe intended for Christine. He saw the look on Joe's face; he was angry and relieved at the same time. Adam would have done it, he had killed for less. But the idea of going to jail and thus having to flee from Paris and France in general did not appeal to him. Plus Harry would kill him if he did anything to jeopardize their relationship.

"We are so screwed," Joe sighed.

Methos looked to the Highlander's reviving body. "I'll think of something."

"You'll think of something? It was that blasted database that got us in this mess! Your blasted database I might add!"

"And I always clean up my messes."

Harry was holding the front fort of the shop on his own that morning, Mirka had called in sick. Fifi was back in the kitchen working her magic. Then the door opened and the Scottish man that had come into the shop nearly a month ago was there. This time a beautiful woman was with him. She had the same hair he did, the same set of age old eyes. They were both laughing at something; their mirth though did not reach those old eyes. The woman took a seat in one of the front tables while the man came to order.

"Good morning! Welcome back," Harry greeted.

"Good morning," the man said. "You remembered me?"

"How often do I get to meet a Scottish man in Paris?"

The man chuckled.

"So, what is your order?"

"Two double espressos, one tiramisu and a pavlova."

"Duncan," the woman appeared at the Scottish man's side.

"Amanda," Duncan was startled.

"The mille-feuilles look amazing," Amanda hinted.

"You want a mille-feuille instead of tiramisu?"

"Both," the woman stated.

"Your figure can certainly take it," Harry complimented.

"Why thank you!" Amanda gushed. Then she swatted Duncan on the upper arm, hard.

"I just danced with you on the Eiffel tower!" Duncan told her, looking betrayed.

"But he just complemented my figure," Amanda stated. "Want to share a cappuccino with me?"

Duncan shot Harry an incredulous look.

"I'm not giving you free coffee," Harry stated.

Amanda chuckled. "Pity. All the cute ones are taken."

Duncan had a bewildered look on his face but Harry just dipped his head at Amanda.

"Your order will be right up," Harry told them.

"Thank you," the woman grinned. "Duncan, your treat."

Duncan rolled his eyes at this and took out his wallet.

Even Joe noticed how jumpy Methos was behaving. Since before their meeting with the local head of the Watcher's Council the immortal posing as a Watcher was acting a bit off. Finally the grey haired man got tired of the immortal's tapping foot.

"Will you knock it off?"

Methos blinked. "Sorry, I'm just worried."

"We all are. Apparently our troubles are not over with Christine's death; now Kalas has the database," Joe muttered.

"That's what worries me. He's got information on every Watcher and every immortal out there."

"Even you?"

Methos shook his head. "No. But that does not make me feel any safer."

"Still, MacLeod is his primary target."

"Like he would not happily behead me given the chance," Methos said in a snarky tone.

Joe snorted but did not argue. "Where are you going now?"

"Damage control," Methos replied.

"Not like that will help any."

"I've been around for millennia. I've got knowledge that people only dream of. I can shed light in historical mysteries, show people the truth."

"People are known to kill the messenger that offers a new version of the truth," Joe told the immortal.

Methos gave him a mischievous smirk. "Who said anything about the truth?"

He saw Joe groan.

Harry was dead on his feet that day. When he crawled in bed next to his lover though his fatigue was replaced by wariness.

"Something bad happened," Harry stated.

"Depends on your point of view," Methos sighed. He turned on his side and he was now facing Harry. "Christine was found dead this morning in the editor's office she went to."

"That's good, right?" Harry asked. He paused for a beat. "Did you do it?"

"Someone else got there before me. She and the editor dead, stabbed to death."

"And the database?" Harry asked.

"Missing," Methos said with a frown. "And it drives me crazy not knowing who has it. Is it the watchers or is it Kalas?"

Harry snuggled closer. "Want my help?" he offered.

"Thanks love, but it's my mess."

"Suit yourself," Harry whispered. "Now hug me."

"Yes sir!"

Harry grinned and settled in his lover's warm embrace.

The next morning a call from Joe had Methos in an even worse mood.

"Apparently Kalas has the database. MacLeod is tracking him down," he told Harry.

The wizard pushed a mug of steaming hot coffee towards Methos. "Are you thinking of getting out of Paris?"

"I would leave the planet if I could. The fall out is going to be huge. Kalas is blackmailing everyone. The watchers are after his head as well as MacLeod's. It's just a matter of who will find him first. Amanda already faced Kalas once and had to run from it, he was too strong for her."

"Amanda?" Harry repeated.

"MacLeod's lover, friend. She's a sneaky one."

"I've heard that name before, in my shop."

"She's about my height, black hair, and fair skin. Followed by a tall, long haired Highlander," Methos described.

"Is MacLeod's name Duncan?"

"Yes."

"I know both of them; they came to the shop the other day."

Methos smiled over his mug of coffee. "Small world."

Harry hummed in agreement. "So, what's the deadline Kalas gave you?"

"Midnight, tonight."

Harry kept glancing out of the shop, towards the Eiffel tower. Mika was getting frustrated with him.

"Is there something wrong?" the young woman asked.

"So many things…"

"If you need to go I can close the store. Fifi's here to help."

Harry hesitated only for a moment. MacLeod was fighting that Kalas character in a few hours. He knew that Methos would stay to see who the winner was before he acted. And Harry wanted to be there. If Kalas won, someone had to inform the magical world about the leak that would take place. If nothing else they could contact the Muggle governments in an effort to minimize the damage.

"Thanks Mika. I owe you one."

"How about a raise?"

"Good one!" Harry smirked at her before taking his coat and leaving his store.

Methos stood with Joe and Amanda under the Eiffel tower when the first roar of thunder reached them. They were all avoiding looking at each other. They dared not hope for the best, they only feared for the worst. The two men pretended they did not see Amanda's pale face and shaking hands. Their eyes were glued to the top.

"Adam?"

The three turned to the source of the voice.

"Harry?" the immortal said incredulously because Methos had certainly not expected that his lover would show up. If Kalas won and Harry was there… That thought alone made his blood run cold. Methos took the younger man by the arms. "What are you doing here? It's too dangerous!"

"Right back at you," Harry fumed. "How do you expect me to learn the outcome of this? When they find the decapitated bodies. On the news?"

Methos winced. "I apologize then. I'm sorry I worried you." He drew Harry in his strong arms and hugged him tightly. He was about to suggest that Harry should leave but thunder tore the sky in two striking the top of the Eiffel tower.

"It's started," Joe said but his voice was drowned by the roar of a second lightning bolt tearing the sky apart.

After that lightening another and one more lightening tore the sky apart. The huge metal tower attracted the electricity but even the tower could not handle the large load. Lightning bolts hit nearby cars, phone poles, the tower was soon encased in darkness.

Harry watched mesmerized at the power that gathered around them. He could feel it crawling over his skin. His magic was reacting to it, Harry could sense this. This power surge, this Quickening as Methos had called the power released with an immortal's death was magical, primal in its force, but indisputably magical.

"I don't see him. Where is he? Can you feel him?" Amanda asked. Usually Immortals could somehow tell when one of them was killed nearby or survived, especially when they knew that someone.

Methos swallowed as he could not tell which one was alive, Duncan or Kalas.

Then the lights returned to the Eiffel tower and the warmth that Harry felt from the Resurrection Stone left him. The three were quiet, waiting. Only when Duncan MacLeod came walking toward them, looking haggard and tired yet with energy humming within him; an energy that only Harry could feel. Amanda hurried towards the Highlander and drew the man for a soft kiss, for reassurance more than anything else. Methos then felt Harry relax in his arms. A pang of regret seized him at how worried his lover had been over this, but also a warmth at how much the younger man cared for him to even be worried.

There were no words spoken, only smiles, as they walked away from the area towards their cars.

Harry had not expected to be invited but Amanda and Duncan seemed adamant. The Highlander was looking better now, after a clean shower and a new outfit. There was champagne and a pleasant atmosphere in the barge that MacLeod had redecorated and made into a wonderful, floating house. As they toasted to various things before settling on toasting to MacLeod, Harry tested the presence of the three immortals. He could somehow feel them, not quite like 'The Buzz' Methos had described to him but something entirely different.

"So, mister shop keeper, is Adam your special someone?" Amanda asked the mortal.

Harry nodded. "Yes, he became special to me."

"He has a way of weaseling his way in people's lives," Duncan commented.

Harry turned to his lover and gave him a peck on the lips. He would have done more but he did not want to make anyone uncomfortable.

"Awe! So sweet!" Amanda crowed in delight.

"Amanda!" Methos and Duncan said together, the oldest immortal in existence being red in the face.

"You know about Immortals," Joe said then.

Harry sipped more of the very fine alcohol. "He was worried when that Kalas character killed someone while looking for him. He drove me crazy for days! I finally got it out of Adam after I cornered him. It was a pretty easy thing to do."

"Did you withhold sex?" Amanda asked.

"Amanda!" all the men except Harry called out.

The wizard laughed, thinking how he liked this immortal. She was so much like Luna with a more Slytherin attitude.

"I'll tell you later. How about chocolate and some coffee at my shop tomorrow?" Harry offered.

"You've got yourself a deal," the woman told him.

Without wanting to, Methos and Duncan shuddered.

End of chapter