Disclaimer: not mine, unfortunately.

Happy New Year, everyone, If a bit belatedly

Ok. Chapter 10. I do believe that it will find your approval people, at least from the error aspect. I have a beta now! So anyway, anything in there that is wrong, my mistake. MarbleGlove, thank you so very much.

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Saturday 9th September

Hogwarts

Derian walked idly the halls of the school, trying not to think of all the possible reasons why Snape was not back yet. He had left the previous evening with a promise that he'd be back before daybreak the next morning. It was past midday and he was not yet back. Derian wasn't worried that Snape might be dead, such a chance was feeble, to say the least, but what if his secret had been found out? It was ironic that the young immortal followed a mortal man whose goal was to become immortal himself.

When Severus had first explained to him exactly what was going on, he realized that he would have to do something.

Frankly he didn't care so much whose views were right or wrong. Everything changed with time and today's certainties were tomorrow's follies. Personally he found both sides partially right and partially wrong, as was always the case with him.

It wasn't difficult to realize why the older, pureblood families cried out for the blood of the muggleborn witches and wizards, who invaded their reality, bringing with them ideas to which they didn't have time to get accustomed. The wizarding community had retreated into the background since the birth and prevalence of Christianity over the older, closer to nature and natural magic, religions. Over the years the Wizarding community had evolve along a differently carved path than the rest of the world.

Methos preferred the Wizarding world in many instances. Their beliefs, their ways were closer to what his own were, to what he generally liked better. But then again, he couldn't fail to acknowledge that without the Muggles, the mortals, the modern world would be a thousand years behind. Not that it would be all that bad, but Muggles had improved certain areas of everyday life, hygiene being only one of them. Science wouldn't exist the way the modern world knew if not for Muggles. It was very difficult to say if an alternative present would have been better, but he did like now, with all the problems it brought.

And speaking of problems, where in heaven's name was Severus?

He had known from the first moment he laid eyes on him that the boy would be trouble. Maybe the knife sticking out from his back had something to do with that. Yeah. It probably was that. And the mark on the boys arm. And the scars all over his body.

Derian hated to admit it, but he was worried.

He knew perfectly well that Severus had never been completely honest about why he joined the Death Eaters or why he left them, but he never pressed for the personal details. He could appreciate very well the need of solitude and secrets. He had a ton of his own secrets anyway. And he wasn't the least eager to share them with other people. He had learned to operate in a need-to-know basis and so had Severus.

He hoped that maybe sometime Severus would open up, not that he had any misgivings about how unlikely that was. Still he was a student of human nature and he could read Severus' body language fairly well. Thus he knew that Severus wasn't afraid of dying in the hands of the Dark Lord. No. it was something else that bothered the young Immortal.

"Professor Deofol." The airy voice alerted him on the presence of The Witch who was descending the stairs as they moved to settle on his level. A faint smirk appeared on his face.

"Professor Trelawney. It is sad indeed that you don't gift us with your presence more often during the meals." The Witch answered him back with a smile similar to his own.

"Oh, I find it clouds my inner eye." Her red-brown hair flew in every direction and looked as if on fire every time a sun ray chanced to pass through it. Large silver glasses hid the knowledgeable light brown eyes, as the luminous blue robes obscured the well-exercised body. To Derian's well trained eyes she appeared as she was. One of the oldest immortals alive. And one with a gift rarely found amidst their kind.

"Could I interest you in a walk outside the castle, Madame? It's too beautiful a day to be lost spent inside these gloomy walls, alone." He smiled as he offered her his hand, which was accepted with a gracious mock bow.

"But of course Monsieur. It is after all the reason you found me descending from my haven. My tarot cards told me of a pleasant meeting and a walk, were I to come by this way."

"Really, Sibyl!" Derian said as he laughed out loud.

"Well, it beats saying that I am simply answering the message your elf brought me." Trelawney shrugged. "But be quiet, you. We don't need people overhearing us. Which is why I suppose you offered me this lovely walk."

"Spot on, my dear. Spot on."

The two Professors left the Main Entrance in favour of the sunlit grounds of the school. Not surprisingly, many of the students and Professors were walking around the grounds, despite the wind, as the sun was out after the past few days of almost constant raining. The two Professors managed to maintain their serious expressions as more than one jaw dropped as they made their way through student clusters towards the Northern end of the lake, where a lone willow stood.

Only when they were hidden by her branches, safe from the indiscreet eyes of the rest of the population of the school, did they allowed themselves to relax, breaking into identical smiles as they faced each other.

"So, Derian. You do realise that by tomorrow half the school will know that you are romantically involved with the crazy Professor Sibyl Trelawney?" she asked him playfully as she seated herself in the blanket Derian conjured.

"Err…" suddenly Derian seemed worried. "I hadn't thought of that, to be honest. I just needed to speak to you and…"

"Methos." The Witch became serious suddenly. "What did you want to ask?" Derian seemed to change at the use of his oldest of names. He looked more regal, more old and serious. Dangerous in a way that very few people had known him as.

"Cassandra. Have I thanked you, yet, for all you have done for me?" even his voice was different, no accent colouring a voice that was once used to other very different languages.

"Many times, now. But you know that everyone of them is most welcome." She took of her glasses and glanced up at him.

The Witch herself presented a different image as well. She no more looked half crazy, but power and mystery seemed to follow her every movement. They were no more the simple Professors that the Hogwarts populations saw every day. They were far more than that. They were the oldest immortals alive. And they knew the names they were using couldn't alter or hide this fact when they chose not to. And this was one of those rare choosing-not-to times.

"And never enough."

"Never." She agreed as she watched him lowering himself next to her.

He stared at the water that was included in that little haven, separated from the outside world with a green curtain of willow braches and leafs, giving the interior a playful blue light. In the small haven there was an eerie silence, the magic too powerful not to be felt by other creatures, warning them not to tread too closely. This was a place of secrets, made from people that were secrets. The ancient willow had been a witness to so many events in history that it knew how to keep yet another mystery hidden.

"Never." He agreed. "But appreciated always." She only nodded, consciously trying to relax next to the man whom she had known under many names and epithets. Master, teacher, slave didn't even cover half of them.

"Methos, he is going to be alright." She told him, instinctively knowing what was bothering him.

"Yes. I know. It's just…I…I would hate it if he was hurt."

Cassandra felt a pang of jealousy inside her. Had he ever cared for her as much as he seemed to care for Severus? He had never explained to her why it was so important she had to come into the Wizarding School playing a very dead student of hers in divination. Sybil Trelawney had been a real diviner, such as she was, and she had died when a husband had not liked the prophesised future she had offered him.

Methos had promised her anything. He had told her that he would do anything for her if she played this part. He had need of someone that knew of wizards, he had told her, someone who could disguise herself as one of them. The task was simple. She just had to meet the Headmaster of the school and pretend to get a vision and make a prophecy. She had agreed, not once thinking that she would have to spend the past 15 years in the darn school.

Minus some leaves of absence, of course.

As when she went to warn MacLeod of the threat Kantos was.

Or when she hunted Kronos, last year. That had been…interesting, what with forcing the ancient one to get her a time-turner and joining forces against the rest of the Horsemen. It had been so very hard on her former master, to come up with a plan to kill those monsters he called brothers. It was the best revenge she could wish for and one that he couldn't blame her for. Deep down he had known that the day Kronos and the rest would have to die was approaching. Most immortals did make a habit of policing their own, and dealing with those that would reveal their kind to the rest of humanity.

It was too great a danger to be left uncontrolled.

"He won't." she answered at last, when she knew her voice wouldn't betray her.

"I suppose you've seen it in your crystal ball, then?" he asked sarcastically.

"No." She snorted. "Most people think that I am a crazy witch who predicts nonsense. What they don't understand is that I know how to look people, read them, their thoughts and their feelings when they don't protect them, and draw conclusions. Your student has never been hurt in any of those meetings. Not in the past year, nor in the years before Tom Riddle fell."

"You are right, of course." They stayed silent for some minutes. "So, he hasn't realised that you are one of us yet?"

"No. The magic in the school does dampen our signature, as you very well know, and whatever it was that you did with my quickening, well, it works. I seem to be able to feel others as I normally do, but my signature is very faint."

"Yes. I know." Methos smiled with satisfaction.

"It helps, of course, that I rarely come down from my quarters, where Snape never has any reasons to wander. And if he does, he would probably think that the feeling he gets is because of all the incense burning, rather than me." Her eyes moved to look at him a bit accusingly.

"Yes, I do seem to remember telling him that he should be able to feel clearly one who is immortal." Methos replied a bit slyly. "But what did you expect? I had to come into a plan in no time and I never imagined that the old fool would insist you teach in the school. This would be the reason why I had to dampen your Quickening when you told me you agreed to stay here for a longer while. You don't think I would have done it otherwise, do you?"

"No. Not really. Though it does make me wonder exactly how powerful yours is. I confirmed it last year, you know. Yours was the weakest of the four. And you were at least 1000 years older than Kronos. And I don't believe it is because you haven't taken as many heads as the others had. I do know that says nothing of how powerful an immortal really is. You told me yourself, once: Only age counts."

"It's strong enough." Methos replied darkly. "Anyone wondering yet as to why you can't do magic?"

"And you call divination, what exactly?" Cassandra asked irritated. "Not to mention me being an animagi and having the Voice."

"Come on, old girl. You know what I mean. Magic in the form they know it. And you know you can't be changing forms around here. You are not registered as animagus with the Ministry. And about the Voice, might I remind you that it would be considered a form of the Imperio curse and thus have you thrown in Azkaban in no time?"

"Yeah, yes. However I do live a very secluded life. And I can do the basic ones." She removed her wand from her sleeve and cast a few spells to show him. She felt the urge to smile when he looked at her approvingly and clearly in admiration.

"That is very good, Cassandra. You've improved a great deal."

"Well, I do live in a wizarding school. So, tell me, what are your plans?"

"Plans?"

"Methos." Cassandra rolled her eyes. "I am not staying around here, in the middle of a war, without knowing at least what you're thinking of doing to end it."

"To be honest I don't know." Methos sighed. "When I got Severus' letter, I was quite surprised. Mind you, not as much as Mac was, but it was a close call. I had decided not to answer. I wouldn't have answered, had the Highlander not gone and done all those stupid things he did."

"You mean Ahriman?"

"I do mean Ahriman." Methos confirmed to her. "After he left, I simply couldn't stay behind. And Severus sent more than one letter. He sounded quite desperate."

"They are desperate." Cassandra agreed with him. "Since the Dark Lord returned I've seen a whole Ministry crumbling with its own idiocy. And all of them putting their future, their chances on a 16 year old who can't even predict or create a convincing future for himself."

"I did hear he was useless in Divination." Methos smiled, as the two immortal teachers begun to talk about their students.

"Useless doesn't begin to cover it. He is good in Defence against the Dark Arts though. Passable in Charms and Transfiguration. Amazing in flying…if only he could get his mind off the clouds once every so often."

"You don't seem to like him that much." Methos said amused.

"You won't believe what I've been told they call me." Cassandra's face clouded. "Ghosts and paintings are a great way to learn what happens in the castle without being seen, or indeed moving about."

"That is a good piece of information." Methos mused over it as new ideas and plans begun forming in his mind.

"So…?"

"So?"

"You plans, Methos!" Cassandra rolled her eyes exasperated.

"I am not sure yet." Methos admitted. "There are many things I need to consider."

"What things? Voldemort is evil, kill him." Cassandra said harshly, earning a stare from the older immortal.

"It's not so simple. Severus…you know who he is. I am sure you have a prophecy about him." At her nod he went on. "He will become a powerful mage, but he must survive this life. I know he brought me here to help him, I simply don't know against whom he needs my help."

"You think he wants the Dark Lord to live?" Cassandra asked, remembering all the rumours she had heard of the Potions Master.

"I think he doesn't want Potter to kill him. Not that he should, considering which potion Voldemort used to come back, but…that spell…in the first war, that spell that I taught him should have killed Voldemort. There was no way he could survive it, unless Severus did something wrong."

"Or didn't really wish to kill him." Cassandra said aloud what he couldn't say himself.

"Yes. There is a bond there. Between those two, and Severus, you must have sensed his aura, he is not exactly bending towards the light side."

"No. Though he is not as corrupted as you were."

"Why, thank you, my dear. It is good to know I am loved." Methos replied dryly.

"Oh, sod off."

"Language! What if the students heard you, Professor Trelawney?" Methos said amused, assuming his teaching persona.

"I am sure they would agree with me, Professor Devil." Methos grimaced.

"Touché."

"I have my moments."

"Yes. Well. Until I know what Severus is planning, and he wouldn't have called me if he wasn't planning something, I don't know what plan to form." Methos threw a pebble in the lake, for a moment getting himself lost in the ripples of the waves. "It's not as if he can't defeat Voldemort himself. But…if I am right, and I think I am, there is a very good reason why he won't."

"Which you don't want to share with me, right?" Cassandra told him abstractedly, as she suddenly seemed to be both with him and somewhere else. He noticed.

"No. Not yet. I'll play the simple teacher for the moment." He fell silent as he stared at The Witch. He followed her eyes to where she was staring into nothingness. He watched her shivering and completely disregarding his presence and decided he didn't like it at all. "Cassandra?" he laid his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her from whatever realm she lost herself into. That was her gift. Visiting planes of existence that were, are or could be. "Are you ok?"

"Can't you see her?" she answered her voice lowered in awe.

"See who?" Methos begun to feel uneasy. He remembered all those times that she would go all misty and hazy, back when she was just another slave and he was just another warlord – neither of them being just that. He had been apprehensive of her then, just as he was now.

"She is dead. Long dead. Tall, silver hair, black eyes. Dressed in green and gold. She says…she says you broke your promise. You shouldn't have come back."

"There was no other way. Tell her."

It was probably his tone that brought Cassandra back to reality. It was sad beyond anything she had heard before from him. Tired and surrendered, it sounded nothing like the immortal she knew. As she turned her eyes to look at him, she realised he looked nothing like all those faces she had seen before as part of him. It was a new personality emerging from the chaos that was he and she felt attracted to the new mystery he presented.

"Who was she?" she asked when she turned back to the vision to find her gone.

"She is gone then?"

"Yes." She stared at him as he stretched backwards lying half outside the blanket, onto the smooth green grass. "Who was she? What promise?"

"Her name is Selest Snape. As you said, she is long dead. 923 years to be precise. I once promised her that I would never walk these grounds again."

"Never is a long time." Cassandra mused. Time worked so differently for them.

"Indeed. But she knew who, what I was. She was also best friends with a great Diviner of her era. Said Diviner prophesied something that had Selest make me promise her that."

"You don't know the prophecy?"

"No. At the time I was quite fed up with all prophecies – there were enough around calling for my, my persona's demise. And I had grown tired of most every one around here. It wasn't so difficult for me to promise her that I would never return. Ever." He rubbed his face slowly as if it would make memories of long ago lives would go away. "To be honest I wouldn't have returned if not for Severus."

"You love the boy, don't you." Again that slight feeling of jealousy came forth and coloured her voice. Methos noticed.

"Cassandra." He turned to look at her, both serious and amused. "Severus is my student. I care for him. I am not going to compare him to you or try to explain myself or my reasons to you or anyone else. You are not him just as Severus is not you. Not comparable."

They sat in silence after that, nothing else seemingly being there for either of them to say. It wasn't uncomfortable. They had found themselves in alike situations so many times in the past that even when there was no love lost between them they had no problem withstanding the presence of each other. At some point down the years they had begun to enjoy it for the simple thing it was. Two immortals. Two very old immortals sitting next to each other the Game controlling neither of their minds. They had seen so much death, so much betrayal, felt so much pain and disgust that they appreciated those few moments they could just sit and be themselves, knowing that they were being accepted for what they were.

"Why can't you see her?" Cassandra said what had been on her mind for some time now. "I had thought that…"

"She doesn't want me to see her."

"Excuse me?"

"Cassandra, you have a rare ability, one that I can't say I envy in the least. You can see in other planes of existence. You can see what you are looking for and hear what you've been listening to. I can't. If the dead care to walk this plane I cannot see them unless they choose to be seen. If they speak, I won't hear them, unless they want me to listen to them. They cannot escape you anymore. You've honed the ability very well."

"You taught me how." She protested. "How can you say you can't see them or hear them when you taught me all I know about the other realms?"

"I guided you to find your knowledge." He corrected her. "You needed an anchor, someone who wouldn't allow you to lose yourself to the other realm before you knew your way around, or knew how to deal with situations. I could do that for I have been taught certain things about other realms. I could guide you once there, for I know the ways."

"So why can't you see her?"

"I can enter another realm, especially the Other World, and have a walk around, but I can't know when someone from another realm visits us. Does that make sense?" Methos asked, slightly playing with his hands, trying not to think about how he had no idea how he knew what he knew, or who had taught him. Maybe that was one of the reasons when his late wife had asked him never to return to these grounds he had no problem agreeing with her. This place all too frequently reminded him of what he should remember but was still just across the curtain that clouded his furthest past.

"Not really." She said dryly.

"Well, I can't explain it better." He shrugged as he climbed back to his feet. "I think it might be best if we head back or the students will think that I am more than just romantically involved with you." She screwed her face as she accepted his outstretched hand.

"Imagine that. Those little brats could just go and think it. Sometimes they have the dirtiest minds. Thirteen year old brats." He led her back to the more populated grounds of Hogwarts.

"I really think it is time you moved on." Derian smiled amused.

"You don't say. Fifteen years in here…it's a lot of time even for me." She agreed, her words completely the opposite of the image she once more presented to the out world. "I really don't understand how they do it."

Derian could only chuckle as they walked the grounds towards the castle.

With the ease brought by millennia of practice, the two immortals buried their true identity, allowing the world to see their expected personas.

The two Professors were back. At least for now.

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Hope you enjoyed. I got exams at the moment, which was why I didn't updated earlier, and which is why you shouldn't expect a new chapter all that soon.

Village Mystic: It does seem I need to read more about Merlin. Thanks.

Dan: his quickening is his magic. I always saw magic as manipulated energy and quickenings are energy, again from my point of view. It's just that Methos, being a Mage, can control his quickening whereas a -common- immortal cannot. Wizards, on the other hand, have the ability to call upon, and control energy that belongs to their surroundings. I hope that makes sense. I'll probably try to include an explanation later on. Another EoM lesson probably. We'll see.

Kyer, Konniemacian, April, Anna, Shelliesnape, plutodo: thank you so much for your support for the last chapter. I can only hope I won't disappoint you.

MarbleGlove: I bet you got bored readying this, but thank you, thank you, thank you. Got nothing else to say, I believe.

Romilly McAran: you'll see more of Draco. In later chapters. The trio has to come back as well. I am pleased my characters meet up your expectations.

Well, that's all folks. Till next time.