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.
Pair: Harry Potter/ Methos
Chapter 7
Harry loved teasing his lover, especially when he had him like this, underneath him, moaning and writhing.
"You evil… Ah! There!" Methos gasped.
The wizard moved his hips again, making the Immortal groan.
"I love this," Harry admitted. His voice was strained, his body sweaty and struggling to keep this slow. Ever since Harry had woken up the two men had been joined as much as they could and for as long as their bodies allowed. The period the wizard had spent unconscious had made the two lovers that much more determined not to part with each other. Even Andromeda's teasing comments could not faze them.
Methos' chest was heaving. He loved it when he had Harry inside of him; when the younger man would touch him like this, love him like this. He was on his side, Harry's body right behind him, slowly moving and driving him out of his mind. They had been hurried the first time after Harry woke up, but now they were taking their sweet time. It was both torture and pleasure and despite the fact that both men would like to come, dragging it out and seeing who would break first had become their latest goal.
Harry's fingertips slowly pressed against Methos' hipbone and then trailed upwards, teasing the man's skin, then his over sensitive nipples.
"Ah!" Methos gasped as Harry's mouth bit his already bruised and already healing neck.
"Like that?"
"No matter how many times you do that… It won't leave a mar-k….Hah… do that again," Methos demanded and Harry complied, moving his hips slowly and hitting his lover's prostate again as he slowly but firmly bit the Immortal's sensitive neck.
"Like this?" Harry asked.
"You… sadist," Methos panted. In retaliation he moved his body as well, earning a hiss of pleasure from his green eyed lover.
"Got it," Harry sighed. "No more teasing for today."
"Good," Methos muttered. "Now finish this."
"I want answers," Harry admitted to Methos.
"That dream again?"
Harry sighed.
It was morning and the two lovers were wide awake.
"Yes," the green eyed wizard sighed.
Methos turned and kissed Harry's temple. "That professor of yours and your godfather?"
"Hm."
"They talked about that Flamel guy?"
Harry nodded again.
"Why is he so important?" Methos asked.
"Well, he's mortal, but he's over six centuries old."
That made the Immortal pause. "That's not possible."
"Do you know what the Elixir of Life is?"
Methos nodded.
"Ever heard of the Philosopher's Stone?" Harry asked again.
"No way!" Methos exclaimed.
Harry smiled.
"Got any leagues?" Methos asked, eager.
After that it did not take much convincing from Andromeda to have Harry and Methos go out of the house. The witch knew Harry had not been very forthcoming with information about the magical community, but the green eyed wizard had started including his lover. He had explained about the Hallows, he had mentioned several obscure communities, and just a day before Harry had mentioned to Methos that the library of Alexandria still existed, much like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. And when the Immortal did not believe, Harry had presented the man with photos. That had shocked the Immortal.
"You are full of surprises," Methos had commented.
Harry had grinned. "I love to surprise you love."
The Immortal had laughed at that.
"Boys," Andromeda had muttered fondly.
Harry used his Falcon to track down the Flamel's with information the Goblins had sold him. It had not been easy and it had been expensive but in the end he made it.
"You look ecstatic," Methos commented during breakfast.
"I found the Flamel's," Harry announced.
Andromeda sighed. "I guess you are leaving?"
"They are staying in Italy," Harry told her. "At Pompeii. And apparently they do not live far from the Zabini's."
The witch met Harry's eyes. "When are you leaving?"
Harry turned to Methos.
"It's your call," the Immortal replied.
"As soon as possible," Harry decided. "I need to get this over with."
Pompeii was not a place Methos ever planned to return to.
While the five thousand year old man had not been at Pompeii during the eruption of Vesuvius, he recalled the thriving city that existed before disaster stuck. He had lost many friends that day; one of them had been Immortal, a high priest at that; in the Temple of Jupiter. The city he was seeing now felt ancient and alive at the same time.
"We turn here," Harry murmured and Methos, being the designated driver, made the turn.
"Pretty nice villas," he muttered.
"Look! See that coat of arms on that door?" Harry excitedly pointed.
Methos stopped the car. "A boar and a falcon?"
"The Zabini summer villa."
"I think I remember this place from … No way! That was the villa of one of Augustus' nephews!"
Harry smiled. "They used to go by Gordianus, I think."
"I knew a guy that went by that name! Or at least I think I did, it has been centuries," Methos trailed off. "Are they really direct descendants?"
"Yes."
"How did the house survive?"
"Secret," Harry replied. "Too bad Blaise Zabini, the current head of the family is in Africa at the moment. Come on, the Flamel's are supposed to be near."
They drove for ten more minutes.
"This is it," Harry announced and Methos parked the car.
The house blended with the other houses in the neighbourhood but Harry was not fooled, not by the wards and certainly not by the illusions around it.
"It looks abandoned," Methos commented.
Harry took his hand in his.
"Look again," he urged his lover.
The small cottage transformed before Methos' shocked eyes to an old mansion looking millennia old.
"No way!" the immortal gasped. He turned to Harry.
"I could see this all along," the wizard replied.
"How?"
"Never mind how," Harry told him. "Right now I want to do one thing."
And he walked up to the door and rang the bell.
Nicholas and Perenelle had never had their photos taken. Their achievements were the only things that had made the papers. But Harry knew their faces. He had inherited Albus Dumbledore's work after all and along with it several albums. Nicholas did not look his true age. Instead he appeared to be a forty something year old man, lean built, with long grey hair caught low on his nape, a smile and laugh lines on his face and old eyes that still shone blue. Perenelle was a beauty. She looked to be around her forties, regal, with long, golden haired caught in a braid and dark shimmering eyes.
When the couple opened their door Harry was certain it was them.
"Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel?" He asked.
"Harry Potter Black," the Alchemist warmly greeted.
"Come on in," the witch offered. "I made lemonade just yesterday and I think there is still some fig pie."
Harry and Methos joined the two in their house.
"You do not seem surprised to see me," Harry commented.
"I… We have been expecting you," Perenelle admitted and pointed towards a deck of what Harry knew to be Tarot cards used for divination spread on a table just as their hosts led them to the terrace. Harry and Methos accepted the treats their hosts offered.
"We never thanked you," Nicholas said. "Albus told us how you helped save our Stone."
"You had no need to," Harry replied, a blush on his face. "I'm sorry you had to destroy it."
"Are you familiar with Albus' favourite phrase?" Perenelle asked.
"Death is but the next great adventure?" Harry replied.
The witch smiled. "Exactly. We still have enough elixir to get us through one more century."
"And if need arises," Nicholas added. "I can make another stone. It would take me seven years, not much time really."
"How did you know we were alive though?" Perenelle asked. "My cards… their results were rather confusing."
Harry bit his lip. "What do you know about the Tale of the Three Brothers?" Harry asked.
"Enough," Nicholas admitted. "But you have yet to introduce your friend."
"Adam Pierson," the Immortal offered. "But I'm also known as Methos."
"The oldest man in the world," Nicholas commented.
Methos nodded.
Perenelle and Nicholas both turned to Harry.
"You are full of surprises," the older wizard told Harry. "I have not had this much excitement since Albus and I went hunting for Nundu back in the twenties."
"Nick," Perenelle warned her husband. "Let's not start yet another subject, hm? Boys, you are staying for the weekend I hope?"
Harry and Methos nodded.
"Yes Ma'am," Harry said.
"If you'll have us," Methos added.
Methos was pleasantly surprised to meet the couple. Six centuries married, the spouses had admitted. In the old days Methos would have scoffed at this, but now, having met Harry, he was a bit envious of them and a bit hopeful. Envious because they had apparently stayed together for so long. Hopeful because now Methos knew that he could have that long with Harry. The green eyed man who had stolen his heart had the gift of immortality. Harry would be alive for as long as he wished to be. But the younger man had doubts. It came from still having living relatives, friend's family. And Harry was reluctant to outlive them, reluctant and afraid. Methos hoped that this visit would give Harry the answers he wanted and inwardly prayed that Harry would choose to live with him a long, long life.
"It is not easy," Perenelle admitted to Harry.
The two were in the kitchen, preparing lunch.
"We have had our ups and down," the witch commented. "When we wed, I came from a wealthy, pure-blooded family. Nicholas' family was even older. There was no feud between our families but no love either. When we eloped, yes, we eloped, it caused a stir. It took ten years for our families to speak to us again."
"Sorry," Harry muttered.
"It was long ago," Perenelle commented. "I had six siblings. Two older sisters, two older brothers and a twin brother. They all had kids you know. Thirty five nieces and nephews."
Harry shuddered. "I don't have that many but they still drive me crazy."
Perenelle laughed. "Yes well… Nicholas invented the Stone five years into our marriage. We both drank the Elixir. What we then did not know was the price to pay for it. Because there is always a price Harry."
"What is it?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.
"I am not sterile," Perenelle said. "Neither is Nicholas. But the Elixir?" the witch sighed. "I got pregnant ten times. Ten dead children," the witch admitted. There was pain in her eyes even if her face and voice showed serenity. "I lost each child the moment I entered the eighth month of pregnancy. After the tenth attempt, Nicholas refused to allow this again. He was afraid for me you see. We adopted a kid though, Mariemea she was called. An orphaned Muggleborn. You are familiar with blood adoption Harry?"
"Yes, a bit," Harry admitted.
"She lived one hundred years," Perenelle recalled. "Gave us three brilliant grandsons. We buried her though. Just as we buried our own parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, godsons. We stuck around the family for two centuries before the losses finally got to us."
"How did you deal?" Harry asked, his voice low. "I cannot imagine having to bury them. After all the dangers and the struggle. I feared Voldemort at one point, that I would lose them to him. Now though, now I fear time. And I know that time is one thing I cannot conquer."
"Wizards and witches live long times," Perenelle said. "But I understand. Even a century and a half is too little time when it comes to people we know and care about." The witch stopped chopping carrots and hugged Harry.
The wizard let her.
"There is no answer Harry, no easy way. Live your life to the brim, tell your family and friends that you love them, be there. And more importantly, don't fear change, it will come, it is inevitable. Live through pain and loss. I was lucky to have Nicholas with me, despite everything we have been through. And from what little I have seen of your man, I believe Methos could be that other half that will help and support you and love you through all the years to come."
Harry smiled. "You really think so?"
"I'm a romantic Harry," Perenelle admitted. "Of course I do."
"How? Well, there is no fixed recipe," Nicholas told Methos.
The two men had tried playing chess but in the end the oldest of the two was simply too distracted to play and finally decided to speak with the wizard.
"Six hundred years of marriage and you have no tips?" Methos asked. "The longest relationship I had was thirty years. Long before I met Harry. It was a woman. I think her name was Danae, but I'm not sure."
Nicholas shrugged. "No recipe. But… well, you need to be honest. Perenelle is not the only woman I have been with during all my years of marriage. There have been other people, men and women, for both of us. Six hundred years is a long time. But in all honesty, I never loved any of them. I liked the change they offered, their novelty, the adventure, but I never ever loved them. Perenelle is the one for me. She knows it, I know it."
"Does she know about them?" Methos asked.
"Yes," Nicholas replied. "No secrets. I respect her that much and she respects me as well. You have to understand Methos, that when the two of us married, it was a soul bond. There literally is not another match out there for either of us. At one point we decided not to see each other for ten years."
Methos blinked. "Really?"
"It worked too. Each of us travelled around, met people, made friends, had lovers. When that time was up we met again. We both arrived a month early. That happened before we closed four centuries together. We have taken two more breaks but only for three years each time since then."
Methos looked surprised. "I see."
"That's too far into the future for you and Harry though," Nicholas commented. "Live the present with him. Don't think about it. Be there for each other, be true to yourself and to Harry. That is all you need."
"My past," Methos sighed. "I… I was not always…"
"I know," Nicholas admitted, earning a shocked look from Methos. "The Four Horsemen, right?"
Methos nodded.
"That was millennia ago, correct?" Nicholas asked.
"But the person, no, the monster I was the… I am ashamed of that time."
"You need to tell Harry."
"I cannot."
"Why?"
Methos looked pained. "I fear that he will …"
"That boy is too in love with you to stop," Nicholas scoffed.
"You don't know that."
"For an old man you can be stupid," the wizard commented.
"I am a coward Nick," Methos admitted. "It's how I've lived that long."
"You better find some courage then when it comes to Harry," Nicholas warned the oldest Immortal in the world. "Because that boy deserves to be happy. And you deserve it as well, as long as you finally accept who you are and believe it."
"Boys!" Perenelle called out and the two men formed masks to guard their grave faces.
Harry appeared soon after. "Lunch is ready."
"We are coming," Nicholas said as he stood.
Harry approached his lover. "Everything okay?"
Methos kissed Harry's soft lips.
"I think so," he told the green eyed man. "You?"
"Perenelle is a great woman."
"So is her husband," Methos admitted. He walked with Harry to the dinning room. "Still, I have a question. What was it about that Stone you keep hinting at?"
"It's a long story," Harry hurried to tell his lover.
"Your man," Perenelle smiled at Methos, "Lived a very active life as a student."
"Really?" Methos perked up.
"You wouldn't dare!" Harry gasped. "Besides, how much can you know?"
"Albus, bless him," Nicholas admitted, "Was quite chatty, even in letters."
Harry blushed.
For the remainder of the day Methos got to hear all about the guard over the Philosopher's Stone and how his lover at age eleven achieved what many adults before him could not and found the stone.
The weekend at Pompeii turned into a week. The Flamel's had insisted and both Harry and Methos liked the couple too much to deny them. During that week a new bond was formed between the four people and Harry, for the first time since his time at the Station felt light hearted and not afraid or nervous of the long life he had ahead of him. When that week was up the pair returned to Duibhin Castle in better spirits than when they left. Still, they did not have much time to spend there as Adam Pierson was apparently needed again and with one call from Duncan the pair was on a plane to Paris.
End of chapter.
