Chapter Four.

This time when Harry's vision cleared they were standing in a small, dark cave. Harry didn't realize how small until he tried to straighten up and cracked his head on the ceiling. Harry glared in the direction of the faint black outline that was chuckling.

"It may not be the roomiest, but it does the trick," taking Harry by the shoulder the black shape lead him to the entrance of the cave and shoved aside a heavy curtain of vines and leaves.

Once in the light Harry repeated the glare and Connor, seeing it this time, winced, "Well, if you'd asked why I was bending over I would have warned you."

Connor could tell by Harry's expression that the boy didn't believe him. He didn't blame him, as he wouldn't have believed himself either, "Probably," he amended, leading Harry to a bench seat that had been set up only four steps from the entrance of the cave.

Harry sat down with a 'humph' sound and crossed his arms. For a few seconds his eyes shut, "Right, I want to know what's going on, and I want to know now. These last few hours have sent me head over heels, but I'm not moving 'till I get an explanation."

"Well that's good to know. Makes my job so much easier since I was just about to say it was about time we had a talk. How much did Methos and Duncan actually tell you?"

"They said I died but I didn't give them the chance to tell me anything else. Didn't want to hear it."

"This time you don't have a choice about hearing it," Connor sat down beside Harry and leant back against the seat, "And I would like you to do your best not to interrupt, got it?"

"I can't promise I'll try, but I'll try to try," Harry said, grinning cheekily.

Connor withheld a sigh, "Let's start with your death. Even in the mortal world people can be clinically dead, and come back with no, or minimal ill effects. The difference between that, and what happened to you is that when you came back you were, are, beyond human. You death was violent, yes?"

"Harry shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. Can't really remember all that much of it, myself. Just pain and blackness."

"That's not actually very surprising. Whenever you were around Methos and Duncan you picked up an odd feeling?"

"It's the same around you."

"You are what is known as an Immortal. This means that you are not going to age a day past what you already are and the only way you can die permanently is if you head is cut from your shoulders. Any injury, other than a lost limb will regenerate and if you die any other way you will always, eventually return to life."

Harry shook his head slowly in disbelief, "And who'd want to cut off my head? It'd be kind of messy, wouldn't it?"

"Other Immortals. Every single Immortal, from the moment they come back from their first death, is a part of something called the Game. When an Immortal takes another's head their Quickening is transferred."

"So," Harry said, still unsure of how much to take seriously, "What's the actual deal with this Quickening thing?"

"As well as warn you of other Immortals, your Quickening is ultimately your source of power. It is what lets you come back from death, recover from injuries, in hours, what would take months on a mortal and it is what will hold you at this age."

"But if it lets every Immortal do this, then how come others want it?"

"And that, Harry," Connor said, stretching, "Is hitting the nail on the head. As well as your power, all of your memories are transferred, and the Immortal that takes your head is a step closer to the Gathering and winning the Prize. Our entire life is the Game."

Harry opened his mouth, as though he was going to say something, and Connor paused, but it seemed he thought better of it.

"Like any other Game, our one has rules. Our main rule is that fighting on holy ground is strictly forbidden, and don't ask why because I don't actually know. Let's just say that the only people who know are in no state to tell."

"Um, okay." Harry muttered, "Back at the house you mentioned Watchers. Who - or what are they?"

"Watchers are normal humans that feel it is there duty to record every major factor of our life. Teachers, students, preferred fighting style, whoever challenges you, what time you get up in the morning, and ultimately, who kills you,"

"All of that?"

"Well, not quite," Connor moved his eyes over Harry's face, "but that's not the type of thing one as young as you should be worrying about. You seem to be taking this rather well."

A disbelieving laugh sounded from the boy, "Trust me, I'm not. I just don't think it's fully hit me yet. I wanted a normal life once Voldemort was dead. Now I find out I'm going to be spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting to lose my head. And, looking as young as I do, I can't see kids in the near future. Or the far one, for that matter."

What you just said about children brings me to something else. An Immortal is not born of human flesh, nor can they have children."

"Damn," Harry muttered softly, looking away from Connor for a few seconds. Then he glanced back, "Would you happen to know anything about tracking charms?"

"Please don't tell me there was one on you," Connor groaned, "They automatically stop working if the person they are on dies."

"Umm, yeah. Professor Dumbledore put one on me before I left the school."

Furry flashed over Connor's face at the mention of Dumbledore's name but since he didn't elaborate Harry felt that it would be smarter not to ask. Connor sat there in dead silence for a few seconds, "Well, that's a hell of a lot sooner than I wanted the old man to find anything out."

Without warning Connor gripped Harry's arm and for the third time that day, Apparated. The feeling of having his stomach dropped through his feet was becoming annoyingly familiar to Harry, but knowing his surrounding afterward made things a lot easier.

The huge, wrote-iron gates which separated Hogwarts from the out side world, were fully shut, but this didn't seem to bother Connor. All he did was rest a hand over lightly over the lock, and say something to them that Harry didn't quite catch. Without any further prompting they swung open.

Harry made to go through the gates but Connor stopped him, resting a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to be as quite as possible. Not a single noise until we are in Albus's office," then he drew his wand and gave it a deft, little flick, "Invisibility charm," he said, "and don't wander off, because I can still feel you."

Halfway up to the school they were stopped by none other that Professor McGonagall. Her eyes rested coolly on Connor, "I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress of this school. You are?"

"Someone that has something rather important to discuss with Albus," Connor smiled at her, "Would such a charming lady be willing to escort me to his office and tell him that a man named Conner needs to talk to him?"

On hearing this Harry snorted, and the moment she was looking in the other direction he received a piercing glare from Connor.

"It'd be a pleasure to escort such a well-mannered man."

The trip to the stone gargoyle was something Harry rather wished he hadn't been present for. What with the conversation that passed between the two adults, Harry could feel himself going red, just listening to it. It was a huge relief for him when they got there ten minutes later and McGonagall simply gave Connor the password and declined his offer to come up with him.

As the gargoyle twisted its way up Harry decided it was safe to speak again, "And was that conversation really necessary?" he complained, looking, unimpressed at the older Immortal. Not that that mattered, since he couldn't see it.

"Entirely," Connor smiled, innocently at where he thought Harry was, before removing the spell. Then his expression became serious, "For the most part I want you to leave things up to me, got it?"

"Loud and clear," Harry said as Connor knocked on the door.

"Come in," called a familiar voice from inside. Connor's eyes flashed again with an expression that was gone before Harry could recognize it.

Dumbledore looked up from a pile of papers that he was poring over and shock crossed over his face, "Connor. Not that your presence isn't welcome, but why have you sprung from the woodwork after so long?"

Tension was obvious between the two men, but they were both doing their best to ignore it.

"So long?" Connor raised his eyebrows, "It's only been around a decade. Blink and you miss it. Of course, that doesn't hold true for one as young as the boy here."

Now it was Harry on the receiving end of a cool expression as Dumbledore turned his attention to the boy, "Well Harry. Letting Connor remove that spell certainly got my attention. I'll re-cast it and then maybe you could wait outside, hmm?"

Connor's face took on the same coolness as Dumbledore's, "My student will be doing no such thing. He is the reason I am here, and I did not remove any spell. In fact, since it is you fault he wound up dead at the hands of his so-called relatives, you owe him a thousand fold."

"Dead?" Dumbledore sputtered, "That is the most preposterous thing I've ever heard. It's the safest place for him."

Conner quite clearly didn't want to waist time arguing. He freed his katana from his side and cut Harry's shoulder. He didn't use any force, but the blade still went deep into his flesh. Harry winced and narrowed his eyes at Connor, "What'd you do that for?"

The older Immortal didn't bother replying as ten seconds later the answer became obvious. Blue lightning arched from the wound, closing it before blood could even properly fall.

"That should be enough to settle things," Connor said, coolly.

Horror appeared on Dumbledore's face, "Harry, I'm sorry. Can you ever for…" He was cut off as the door burst open and Snape swept in, a look torn between annoyance and amusement on his face.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing here, Connor?" he growled. Then he punched the Immortal, none to lightly on the shoulder, "So how have you been?"

"I've been better then you are going to be in ten seconds, if you don't tell me what that was for," Connor replied, rubbing his shoulder, "And as for what brings me this way..." he trailed off and clapped a hand on the arm of Harry, who had pushed himself into the wall when Snape came in, and drew him out, "The identity of my new student requires that I get a new job."

Snape's attention shifted to Harry for a few seconds, before he looked back at Connor, "I didn't do any more than you deserved, disappearing without a word for ten years," he looked at Harry again, "Is Potter still alive as such, and under you wing, or..."

"He's a full fledged member of the Game, Severus."

"Isn't he a little young?"

"No!" Connor snapped the word with such furry that Snape winced.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your business then," Snape turned on his heel and left, robes billowing behind him. Harry felt it would have been more impressive if he'd actually been annoyed.

"Well, that went better than I expected it to," Connor said lightly, before turning back to Dumbledore, "So, are there any job openings?"

"You want to work for me?" Dumbledore looked surprised.

"It's not so much a want, as a matter of necessity. Things would look rather odd for an adult to be around the castle 24-7 with no reason, and I am not keen on attracting attention."

Harry's stomach growled loud enough to draw stares from both of the adults. Dumbledore drew his wand and conjured a plate of sandwiches before answering Connor.

"It dose so happen that we have an opening. Defense Against the Dark Arts. We haven't been able to keep anyone in that spot for more than a year, so people are not vary keen on taking it. I'd be more than a little grateful if you were to save me the hassle of actually finding someone."

"Done," Connor growled, "But as soon as the boy leaves I do to."

"Wouldn't expect it any other way," Dumbledore said softly. His tone sounded a little sad.

"Well, we'd best be heading back or heads will roll."

Without looking back Connor lead Harry out of the school to the grounds. Much to Harry's surprise night had fallen. The only light came from a full moon, shining softly overhead. This time they headed out through the Forbidden Forrest. A chilling howl tore through the silence, but before they got anywhere near the point of origin Connor took Harry's hand in his own and Apparated back to the bench side cave.

"Lumos," Connor said, raising his wand so that the light fell upon Harry's gear, "Ready to face the wrath of Duncan?" he asked, laughing.

"Suppose it'd be better to face it now than let things stew," Harry grabbed his thing and expectantly gripped Connor's hand again. The entire world was whisked away as his body gave into the exhaustion of multiple Apparitions.

When Connor got back he put Harry into bed, and sat down by the lad's side. In his mind, fifteen years ago, a different person looked at someone he cared about and said the same words that e had heard today.

Isn't he a little young?

He didn't care what it cost him. This time he wasn't going to lose anyone.