PG-13 Methos takes a young Severus Snape under his wing.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

Death & Betrayal
by MarbleGlove

Methos tried to tell himself that he was not worried. Severus was not his student, was not his concern, and was not in danger anyway. Severus was late. There were never set times for the two of them to meet, but Severus generally stopped by every couple of weekends, and Methos had been fairly sure that this weekend, would be one of those. And Severus had not come.

"Not my student, not my concern, not in danger anyway."

He sighed. He knew perfectly well, that while Severus was not immortal and never would be, bar some rather powerful dark magics, he was his student in every way that counted. And that meant that Severus was very much his concern. And Severus was spying on a dark wizard which also meant he was in constant danger.

And Methos had long ago honed his instincts to let him know when to worry, and they were telling him that now was the time.

He paced. He told himself to relax and read a book, but couldn't concentrate.

Finally he spoke to the still absent Severus. "Damn it, man. You had better be in danger right now, because I'm going into that damned wizarding world to fetch you."

He was still muttering to himself as he went to one of the back storage rooms. There happened to be in his possession ten Death Eater outfits in various sizes that he had removed from the original Death Eaters. It helped to be prepared for all eventualities and never throw things away.

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Harry Potter was worried. Snape had disappeared this weekend, and his Monday classes had been canceled. Dumbledore was looking serious, and he had even seen the Headmaster nibble on some medi-chocolate. Something was very wrong.

And so he had come up with a plan. It was, he admitted to himself, not a very good plan. No one had told him anything and neither Hermione nor Ron could come up with any suggestions to find out what was going on. So he had decided to lower his mental barriers and see if he could figure out what Voldemort was up to.

It wasn't really working.

But he went to sleep with the barriers down, and then he dreamed.

He found himself hissing the question, "Who are you?"

"Don't you recognize me?" The man wore Death Eater robes and held a silver mask in his hand. He smirked and tossed the mask in front of him. "You once sent eleven of your people to steal from me. I returned ten of them, but I kept the eleventh for my own. Where is he?"

"Ah. So it is you who turned him from me." Voldemort's eyes blazed with anger, but he kept completely still and his voice remained a quiet hiss. "Lucius. Bring the traitor here."

The surrounding Death Eaters shifted a bit at this command but awaited a signal to act. Everyone waited in stillness, only Lucius moving as he left the room.

Snape was finally dragged in. He looked much the worse for wear due to his incarceration. But his face remained blank, devoid of all emotion, until his saw the man. Then his face showed a terrible mixture of hope and despair.

"And how will my little traitor react to seeing his mentor die, do you think?"

The man laughed. It was a loud rolling laugh that filled the room and mocked all those present. "And how do you plan to do that? It would take nearly fifty of your little killing curses to bring me down."

Harry Potter felt Voldemort's sudden surge of triumph. This time it was Voldemort's laughter that filled the room. "Then so it shall be. Kill him, my Death Eaters."

More than fifty voices shouted out "Avada Kedavra"

The man fell dead, his body covering Snape.

Harry murmured in his sleep. He twisted around and almost woke, but clung to the vague connection he felt, trying to see what happened next.

It was deadly silent in Voldemort's hall, despite the many Death Eaters. Some seemed to be holding their breath. Many of the Death Eaters had not lowered their wands and the rest brought theirs back up again. There was a tension and a power that rose within the room until it was at a near painful peak and it was hard to breath.

Then the entire room seemed to explode with pure power.

Every Death Eater wand, every wand that had cast that last killing curse, shattered. Fire came from nowhere and laced the walls. The windows exploded inwards, showering everyone with shards of glass. Lightening came from the air itself and headed straight for the dead body that lay over Snape.

The Death Eaters that were caught in the lightning's path towards the body were struck down and left for dead as the lightening continued on.

Pandemonium ensued.

And Harry Potter shivered in his bed with Lord Voldemort's fear. The dark lord fled his throne room and as he ran he was followed by a deep rolling laugh that mocked him.

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All the students were in their houses and under close guard.

It was a full moon and Remus had come to Hogwarts for his wolfbane potion. But since Severus had failed to return, no one was capable of making the potion. With Peter Pettigrew alive and with Lord Voldemort, the Shrieking Shack held no safety or anonymity. Albus had come to the difficult decision to allow Remus to run free in the Forbidden Forest and guard the children within the castle rather than risk keeping an out-of-control changed werewolf in the castle as well.

It was a decision he feared he would regret and that fear seemed confirmed when the scream was heard. It was a scream of rage and perhaps an attempt at intimidation. But it was answered by the howl of a werewolf accepting the implied challenge.

One doesn't intimidate a changed werewolf.

Albus rushed out with Minerva and met up with Hagrid and Fang part way to the source of the continued noises.

In one way, Albus Dumbledore was right in believing he came too late. The werewolf was attempting to maul a person, a man, and the man was already bleeding from claw marks. He was infected. On the other hand, the man appeared to be winning the fight. He had two long knives, one in each hand and was using them to attack as well as defend. The man was also, Albus realized, protecting something. There was a pile of something on the ground that the man consistently kept on the far side of himself from the werewolf.

Albus just had time to notice this when the man darted in at the attacking werewolf again and kicking it to one side with a swept leg and hitting its head with the pommel of his knife on the other side. The werewolf practically did a cartwheel. Before it could get up the man was kneeling on it and holding a knife to its throat.

Albus wanted to protect Remus Lupin, but he couldn't deny that the man had the right to kill a changed werewolf who had attacked him. There was nothing he could do.

But instead of slitting the werewolf's throat, the man simply kept the knife there and snarled directly into the werewolf's face.

Albus then saw something he had never seen before, that he had not previously thought possible. The werewolf lay quiet and raised its own chin, baring its throat further. It was showing its submission and accepting the man as dominant.

The man stood up and put his knives away somewhere inside his black robes. The werewolf rose as well but just stood there on all fours at the mans side.

They both looked at the shocked faces of Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, and Fang.

"Well? I'm covered in werewolf blood and spit and Severus has open wounds. One of you is going to have to carry him."

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Dumbledore was sitting by his bedside when Severus finally woke up. The old man was a comforting presence, but was barely acknowledged by the recipient of his care. Instead the generally dour man stared at him with a look of wonder and said, "he came for me."

"He did, didn't he? I didn't dream it? Death and Betrayal saved me."

Dumbledore listened to these soft words intently wondering if he would ever find out what they meant, but he replied, "Your friend Adam brought you here."

Severus laughed softly. "Adam. Here. 'Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies? and if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart: I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying.' Rainer Maria Rilke." And the man drifted off to sleep again with a rare smile on his lips.

Dumbledore was left with his thoughts.

He thought about how glad he was that his potions master had been returned and showed good progress in healing. He thought about the strange man called Adam who had brought Severus back to Hogwarts. Adam who had refused all medical attention, waved off all concerns of infection, and had left Hogwarts after reassuring himself that Poppy was a competent medi-witch and could heal Severus. But mostly he thought about Severus and what he now knew about the enigmatic man.

Albus was fairly sure that Adam was Severus' mentor, probably in potions as well as in betrayal. Someone had taken Severus in hand when he was a just a boy, broken in so many ways, and had helped form him into the man he was today. Severus was now a powerful wizard and scholar, and his bitterness was honed to a sharp edge that made him all the more powerful and dangerous rather than soothed and dulled to make him happier. What had given Adam the power to do that? Severus had been distrustful as a boy and he was distrustful as a man, but he had still allowed Adam inside his emotional barriers.

Albus made a mental list of everyone Severus had ever had any reason to trust. His father had beaten his mother and him, and of the two of them, he had been stronger than his mother. He had been the protector and had known that he could not trust his mother to protect him any more than he could expect it of his father no matter what popular culture said about the roles of parents and children.

He, Albus Dumbledore, had been Severus' school headmaster, and had tried to engender trust in the boy. But then, he had betrayed Severus himself when he had failed to properly punish Sirius Black or Remus Lupin for placing Severus in mortal danger for a prank. He had played favorites despite his attempts to be fair.

Lucius Malfoy had been a friend but had also betrayed Severus by convincing him to join the Death Eaters with false promises. And Lord Voldemort had betrayed Severus by failing to fulfill the promises made in his name.

Severus didn't trust anyone, so why did he trust Adam, a man he was obviously surprised to have come to his rescue?

Albus closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the sleeping Severus' hand as he realized why Adam was different. Severus had just told him in that quote about terrifying angels, and in his very surprise at his rescue.

Albus would bet anything and everything he had that Adam had never promised to rescue Severus; had never even implied that he might do so if the need arose. Adam had helped Severus, had taught him and had formed him into someone who walked into danger with complete confidence that either he would survive or he would not and the only thing to do was to face it, to stand in the heat of danger and see if he would be burned.

Adam was a being who could be cursed with fifty killing curses and would still survive. He was a being who could fight a werewolf and force its complete submission. And he was a being that Severus could trust to never break a promise because he never offered any promises. Truly a terrifying angel, but perhaps the only kind of angel that Severus could believe in.

With this new insight into the man laying in the infirmary bed, Albus felt he knew him even less. "How can you be who you are and still fight for us? How can you live with such an expectation of betrayal? How can you trust above all others a man you refer to as Death and Betrayal?"

The sleeping man, who was, Albus realized with some surprise, still not yet forty, continued to sleep and did not answer.

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Miles away, back at his British estate, Methos was considering events. He had gone to rescue Severus and had succeeded in that. Showing up at a Death Eater hangout in Death Eater garb had quickly gotten him taken to Voldemort. And being cursed with Avada Kedavra was not particularly pleasant, but then again, few deaths were, and it wasn't permanent. Under controlled circumstances at least. It had merely removed his quickening from his body and given that he still had a body and a head that were solidly connected, his quickening had returned to him. He had always wondered what would happen if there were a second immortal around when one immortal was Avada Kedavra'd. Who would get the quickening? But any quickening was violent and when a wizard took it, the wand involved invariably exploded. The knowledge did reassure him whenever he was in the wizarding world.

He didn't really like the wizarding world. He liked the books, and he liked the subjects studied. He had been married a few times to witches and had raised children who turned out to be magical, but that didn't change the fact that he didn't like spending much time surrounded by people who were all capable of things he was not. Many spells didn't affect him at all, and many more didn't act like they normally did, but spells that effected his surroundings rather than him could still be extremely problematic.

Methos hadn't been inside a wizarding enclave for centuries before now. Now that he had returned, he had a feeling that he would have to return again and soon.

Nearly twenty years ago Voldemort had first had contact with him, trying to steal from one of his collections. Methos had killed most of the potential thieves, and that had been that. There had been no further interaction. Voldemort had not tried again, and Methos had made no attempt at revenge.

But this time Methos had been the aggressor. He had personally gone to Lord Voldemort and had killed more than one of his minions and crippled most of them at least temporarily until they could replace their wands. And he had successfully taken a prisoner away from him. When Severus remained at Hogwarts as he almost certainly would, Voldemort would have to assume, correctly, that Methos remained interested in events. The war would have to end soon and decisively if Voldemort wanted to avoid Methos becoming further involved in the situation.

Given what Severus had told him in the past few years, and this year being Harry Potters seventh, the final battle had probably already been planned for the next few months, but if it hadn't been before, it surely was now.

There was a war, and it was going to come to a head within six months. He didn't like fighting in any wars, and he didn't like being in the wizarding world even when it was at peace. But he had left his student in the thick of the fight and that could not be changed now.

So the big question was: should he participate?

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A/N: As embarrassing as it is to admit it, I did not find the quote by Rainer Maria Rilke in a book of his poetry or from some other properly literary source. I found it some years ago in a Highlander fanfic written by Sleeps With Coyotes. She is a wonderful author and you should check out her stuff at her website which I'm having trouble getting uploaded here for some reason. Just google her nom de plume .