Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, BTVS, Highlander, or any of the other things I might toss in just for fun. Or, indeed, for a serious plot moment. They belong to whomever is lucky enough to hold the Copyright.
AN: This is actually an idea I had a while ago. I started writing it, and it sort of sat on the back burner for a while. I started poking around my old files, and I saw it. Thought I might as well finish it.
AN 2: READ THIS ONE! IT'S VERY, VERY IMPORTANT! This starts at the very end of HBP, after Dumbledore and Harry returned to Hogwarts. Everything has gone according to canon, except for one very important thing: Hermione and Ron are not now, will not be, and have never been, a couple. Harry started dating Hermione during their third year, and they consummated the relationship just before his trial in OOtP. This means that Harry took Hermione to the Yule Ball. I think it's safe to assume that Krum took Parvati. Also, the fiasco that was his attempt to date Cho never took place. If you have some issue with these events, please keep them to yourself. You don't have to read the story, and I've given you fair warning. Besides, the whole point of Fan Fiction is to do things your way.
AN 3: This will deal more with the first Highlander movie than the show, although I've seriously damaged the timeline so that the events of the movie haven't happened yet.
AN 4: This chapter is almost all HP. The other crossovers will appear more fully as time goes on.
AN 5: (Good goddess, don't these things end?) Brother Bludgeon was kind enough to point out an error I made, so I've corrected it. In the original version of this chapter, I didn't use proper language to demonstrate Harry and Hermione's relationship. It's all fixed, so if you missed that, go back and read.
Harry lay, frozen, underneath his invisibility cloak. Dumbledore had petrified him, and someone was opening the door. A voice that sounded like everything in your nightmares spoke. “Hello, Dumbledore.”
Dumbledore only smiled. “Hello, Kurgan. It’s been a while. Several centuries, I believe.” Harry did a double take on that. Centuries? He knew Dumbledore had been alive for a long time, but centuries?
“I take it you’re working for Voldemort?”
The Kurgan growled. 'No, not growling'
. Harry realized. He was laughing. “For the duration of this battle, yes. My only price was that I be the one to kill you.” He laughed again. “Looks like you’re an open target, old man. No one around to save you, and we’re not on holy ground.” The Kurgan took out a very large broadsword. “Nothing to stop me from finally ending you.”
Dumbledore nodded. “That’s very true, Kurgan. And I have no doubt that there is nothing I can say to stop you.” Harry struggled against the body bind. His finger managed to twitch.
The Kurgan lifted his sword. “How’d you guess?” He wore a wicked grin. Harry focused on moving his arm. It finally broke free, and with that, the body bind ended. He threw off his cloak, and tackled the gigantic warrior. It felt like slamming into a brick wall.
The man-mountain turned slowly. “The Potter boy.” He lifted Harry up by his neck. “It’s very rude to interrupt a duel.” There was a grin on the Kurgan’s face. “Not long ago, that was punishable by death.” The Kurgan held up his sword. “And I am, as they say, ‘Old School.’” Harry felt the sword slice cleanly into his gut, and then slide out. He felt himself hit the ground.
With dimming eyes, he watched as the giant went back to Dumbledore. He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and cried out “There can be only ONE!” With one swing, the sword removed Dumbledore’s head from his body. Harry’s vision went black.
When Harry opened his eyes, he was in the hospital wing. This, in itself, wasn’t unusual for him. The unexpected part was the sheet covering his face.
He pushed it off, and sat up. For some reason, he was naked, but there wasn’t anyone in the room to care. He wrapped the sheet around himself, and looked around the room. He couldn’t see much more than two feet in front of him, as someone had absconded with his glasses.
“Bloody hell… How am I supposed to get around?” With a sigh, he looked for his wand. He found it on the table next to his bed. “Accio
Glasses.” To his relief, they weren’t far. Madame Pomfrey had put them in her office.
He was about to leave, when he saw another body on the bed next to him. It was covered in a sheet. Harry pulled it back, revealing the body of Albus Dumbledore. Someone had managed to reattach his head, enough so that it looked decent. Probably for the funeral.
“Half a moment…” If Dumbledore was dead… And he’d been covered by a sheet… Did they think Harry was dead? Did Hermione
think he was dead? “This isn’t good… I’ve got to find the others.”
Since his friends (Not to mention his clothes) were probably in Gryffindor tower, Harry headed that way. The Fat Lady was asleep when he approached. She woke up long enough for him to say the password, but didn’t recognize him.
Once inside the tower, Harry went to the dormitory. No one was there, despite the late hour. “Where are they?” Frowning, Harry opened his trunk, and pulled out a set of robes. Once he was fully dressed, he headed for the girl’s dormitory… Only to fall flat on his face when the stairs turned into a slide.
“Dammit. Should have asked someone to fix that. Not as if Hermione and I don't run off to the prefect's quarters every night, anyway. Alright, I need to get to…” He almost said Dumbledore. No, that wasn’t really an option. Who else was there?
His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Fawkes. The phoenix appeared at Harry’s side in a brilliant burst of flame. He gave Harry an envelope, which the young wizard opened quickly. It was from Dumbledore.Harry,
I hope this letter finds you well. If you’re reading it, then I died before I could finish your education. An education that would have included the Horcruxes, and something much more important.
If I am, indeed, dead, then it must have been by decapitation.
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. How had he known? The next line answered his question.I know this, because that is the only possible way for me to die. Not even the
Avada Kedavera can kill me. I don’t mean to sound arrogant. Far from it. I have, however, been struck with that very spell, so I know it wasn’t the instrument of my death.
Many years ago, during what the Muggles labeled World War II, I had to face a Dark Wizard of my own: Grindlewald. He was, for many years, my friend. I won’t burden you with the details, but he tried to kill me. As the Americans say, ‘It didn’t take.’
I know this is confusing. So, for perhaps the first time in our relationship, I shall speak plainly. My name is Albus Dumbledore. I was born 1500 years ago in what has become modern day England. I am an Immortal. We are a race of humans who, after experiencing a violent death, cannot die unless our heads are removed.
No one knows how we come about, or how many of us there are. We are always foundlings, and are usually adopted by the local people.
You, Harry, were found on July 31st, 1980 by none other than Mad-Eye Moody. Once he confirmed your magic core, he took you back to the Order’s HQ. James and Lily, who were unable to conceive, adopted you almost immediately.
I think you can draw the proper conclusion from there.
Harry had indeed drawn a few conclusions. Not the least of which was that Dumbledore was implying that he… That he was… It was too much for him to take in.I know that this is overwhelming. It was for me when I first learned of it. I died in the year 607, at the age of 120. The Wizarding world is well aware of Immortals, and so I have not been forced to continuously forge new identities as Muggle Immortals are.
I was found by a man named Charlemagne. Not the Muggle ruler, although I believe they knew each other. Charlemagne taught me how to fight against other Immortals, as well as the rules for doing so. I fully intended to explain all this to you, once we had finished locating the Horcruxes. However, this will have to do.
First: Most Immortals are fighting each other in what we call ‘The Game.’ It’s name does not do it justice. It revolves around Immortals killing each other. When one Immortal kills another, they absorb the loser’s Quickening. As far as I know, the Quickening is our soul, everything that makes us who we are. It also contains a great amount of power. Wizard Immortals do absorb another Wizard’s magic, but a Muggle does not.
Second: At some point, no one is sure when, there will come the time of the Gathering. When all the remaining Immortals will travel to one area, and end the Game. The last man (or, indeed, woman) standing will win ‘The Prize.’ No one knows exactly what that is, but many are seeking it.
Third: Once you have experienced your first violent death, you will stop aging precisely where you were at the moment of death. You will no longer become ill, and any injury that does not remove your head from your body will heal. I do not believe that your limbs will regrow themselves, but they will reattach.
Fourth: Never, I repeat, NEVER fight on Holy ground. This will cause an event of disastrous proportions. The last time this happened was in Pompeii, Italy. Holy ground means any Church, graveyard, or consecrated area.
Fifth: Since I am, obviously, unable to train you, I want you to go to the following people for this purpose: Fillius Flitwick, Alastor Moody, and Connor Macleod. Macleod is a good friend of mine, and an expert swordsman. After 500 years, how can he be any less? He and his kinsman, Duncan, will be of great help to you.
I wish you a long, and happy life. I will not ask you to avenge me. In fact, I hope you don’t. However, if another Immortal challenges you, Muggle or not, do not hesitate to kill them. If you do not, they
you. Don’t worry. You will know them when they come.
In the End, There Can be Only One.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Harry put the letter in his pocket. Once again, Dumbledore had kept something from him. On the other hand, it was
a rather big thing to tell someone. Harry couldn’t really see it being a comfortable conversation.
Taking a deep breath, Harry turned to Fawkes. “So what are you going to do? Is there a place you want to go, or are you sticking around?”
Fawkes gave a musical hoot, and fluttered onto Harry’s shoulder.
Harry nodded. “Right. Well, I suppose we’d better get going. Um… Any suggestions?”
“Well, you could start by asking me.”
Harry looked up. Mad-Eye Moody was standing at the portrait hole. “Professor Moody? What are you doing here?”
“Came for you, of course. I wondered how long it’d take you to wake up. I take it you read the letter?”
“Good.” Mad-Eye took a few steps forward. “Then I don’t have to explain it. Now, let’s get you packed. I want you in a safe house before the night’s over.”
Harry shook his head. “No.”
“No? Harry, these were Dumbledore’s instructions.”
Harry shrugged (No mean feat, considering he had a phoenix on his shoulder.) “I don’t care. I’ve already died for the cause. It’s time I started doing things for myself. I’ll take the training, as Dumbledore asked me too, but I’m doing things my way. Now, where is everyone?”
Moody glared at him for a moment before answering. “The students have all been sent home. Exams were cancelled. Miss Granger’s at the Burrow with the Weasley clan.”
Harry nodded. “Good. I’ll go there first.” He looked up at his room. “I’m already packed, but there isn’t much I really need. I don’t feel like taking that trunk. Do you have a rucksack, or something, that I can use?”
Moody grunted. “Course I do. I’m always prepared.” He produced a rucksack from a magical pocket on his kilt.
Harry took it, nodding thankfully. “And we all appreciate it, even if we tease you behind your back.” He smirked. “Give me ten minutes to get what I need.” Moody nodded, and Harry went upstairs. He left his school robes, as well as the majority of his Muggle clothing. He’d have to do a little shopping soon. He packed his invisibility cloak, along with the Marauder’s Map, his cauldron, potion ingredients, and the course books he thought he might need.
Grabbing his Firebolt and Hedwig’s cage, he went downstairs. Moody was waiting for him. “Are you sure you want to go to the Burrow? Molly won’t let you leave easily, and it’s not safe for you to stay in one place for very long.”
Harry thought about it. The ex-auror had a point. He didn’t want to advertise his existence to the world yet. He had an incredible advantage as long as Voldemort thought he was dead. “Right. What about Grimauld Place?”
Moody nodded. “Good enough. I expect you’ll want Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger to meet you there? I can make a decent excuse to Molly.”
Harry nodded. “Yes, thank you.” He paused. “Why are you going along with this? I mean, you’re bloody Mad-Eye Moody. You don’t follow anyone’s instructions except Dumbledore’s.”
Moody let out a chuckle. “You’re in charge of yourself now, Potter. Whether I like it or not, Dumbledore’s not here to enforce anything. And since I need you to survive, the best way to do get you trained is to simply go along with the program. I don’t need you running off and getting killed once you turn seventeen.
Harry chuckled as well, then craned his neck to look at Fawkes. “Do you know how to get to Grimauld place?” He received a hoot. It sounded… positive. “Good. Head there. I’ll meet you.” He received another hoot, and Fawkes burst into flames. “Right. Now I just need to send Hedwig.”
“I’ll handle that, Potter. You’d best be off. Go off the school grounds, and apparate.” He paused. “You do
know how, correct?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, Professor. Don’t worry, I can make it.”
Moody thought about it. “Good. I’ll be along soon after with your friends.”
Harry nodded, and left. He headed for the statue of the hump-back witch. Behind it was a passageway to Honeydukes. From there, he Apparated to Grimauld Place.
Harry appeared in his bedroom. Even after Sirius’ death, Harry thought of this room as ‘his.’ He’d stayed here every time he came to Grimauld place, and he had fully expected to stay here permanently, until Sirius died.
He headed downstairs, quietly moving past the portrait of Sirius’ mother. Then he stopped. Turning back, he flung the curtain back. Whipping out his wand, and before she could start her tirade, he set the portrait on fire with a single “Enflagerate!
” He watched carefully, making sure the fire didn’t spread, and finally doused it when he was satisfied that she was gone.
Harry smirked as he went into the kitchen. One problem down. Ten million to go. If he could solve them that easily, things would go smoothly.
After preparing a pot of tea, Harry sat at the table. He was about halfway through his drink when he realized something. He had no idea how long he’d been dead. “Dammit… Should have asked Moody.” He sighed. If only there was some way he could just snap his fingers and have the answer come to him…
His eyes widened. “Dobby!”
The house elf appeared. “Harry Potter! You is alive! Dobby didn’t think you were great enough to defy Death himself!”
Harry smiled at the elf. “I’m not, Dobby. Just lucky. Listen, I’ll explain later. How long was I… gone?”
“Two days, sir. They found you in the Headmaster’s office.”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, I know. I was the one who got gutted, remember?” He smiled, taking the sting out of the words. “Right… Now, Dobby, I’m giving you a direct order: Tell no one other than Mad-Eye Moody, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger that I’m alive, alright?”
“Of course, sir!” Dobby nodded quickly. “Dobby won’t say anything. Can Dobby go now? Dobby is still trying to get Kreacher to behave.”
Harry laughed. “By all means, Dobby. I’ll call if I need anything.”
Dobby bowed, and Disapparated.
Almost immediately after, Harry heard someone Apparate out in the hall. He went to the door, but stopped when he heard Moody’s growling voice. “Now, I think you should know that what I just told Molly was a complete and total lie. Dumbledore did not
leave final instructions. Or, at least they weren’t for you.” Ron must have started to ask something. “You’ll understand in a moment, Mr. Weasley. Now, I want to be perfectly clear: When you go in that kitchen, what you see is completely real.
Everything is exactly
what it seems. Understand? … Good. Let’s go.”
Harry sat down quickly. He heard Moody clunk to the door, and open it. “All set?” Harry nodded.
Moody moved aside, letting Ron and Hermione into the room. Almost immediately, their eyes fell on Harry.
He smiled at them. “Hello. Fancy meeting you two here.”
There were two distinctive THUDS as they hit the ground.
The Kurgan walked into Voldemort’s meeting room. He was no longer in the Dark Wizard’s employ, so he didn’t understand why he had been summoned. After he killed a few Death Eaters for the insult, he intended to find out why.
Unfortunately, Voldemort was alone. Even the Kurgan knew better than to go after the Dark Lord. He might not be Immortal, but he was quick as a snake. Kurgan would lose his head all too quickly. Sighing, he stood in front of the evil Wizard. “What do you want, Voldemort?”
“You killed Potter.” Voldemort hissed. “That was a pleasure I had reserved for myself.”
Kurgan shrugged. “You should have said something. My stipulation was that Dumbledore be left for me. I didn’t say he’d be my only victim. I wasn’t told not
to kill Potter.”
Voldemort bared his teeth in a snarl. “You knew the boy’s story! You knew how I was destroyed all those years ago! Vengeance was my right!”
Kurgan fought the urge to roll his eyes. “The boy attacked me. It was ineffective, but that’s true of most of my opponents. It still merited his death. If you want to kill me in return, do so. But don’t bother yelling at me. That won’t do either of us any good.”
Voldemort let out a sigh. “No, it won’t. Very well. Leave. Leave, and be done with you.”
Kurgan nodded, and left, smirking the whole way. What he didn’t tell Voldemort was that he’d learned something from Dumbledore’s Quickening. Potter had been a pre-Immortal that night. Kurgan wouldn’t be able to get to the boy now, but he’d have his chance soon enough.
“So… You’re Immortal?” Hermione asked, pressing an ice-pack to the back of her head.
“Yep.” Harry nodded.
“And Dumbledore was too?” Ron asked, a similar pack on his forehead.
“Looks that way.” Harry responded.
“And now you’re involved in a Game, that requires you to take other people’s heads in order to survive?” Hermione’s eyes were a bit wide as she asked that.
“Ah… Yeah. I suppose I could just run away to Holy ground for the rest of eternity, but that’d get awfully boring. I’d go mad in a few months.”
Ron nodded mutely, his look of shock still firmly in place. “Right… Well, considering I have a headache the size of Jupiter, I’m guessing this isn’t a dream.”
“Nope. I had to pinch myself a few times, but no. Not a dream.” Harry smiled at them.
“But, Harry, how can you do this?” Her eyes were glistening a bit. She was about to cry. “How can you kill people, just over some stupid prize?”
Harry looked highly offended at that. “Oi! I’m not gonna run around killing! But if they come after my head, I’m not exactly going to sit back and let them take it, either!”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.” Hermione said quickly. “It’s just… It’s a lot to take in.”
Harry snorted. “Believe me, I know. When I first read Dumbledore’s letter…” He shook his head. “It took me a minute to process it all. But, at the same time, I’d just woken up with a sheet over my head. That made it a bit easier.”
Ron shook his head. “Oy… So, why’d you get Moody to bring us here? Why not just show up? I’m sure Mum’d be glad to see you.”
Harry nodded. “I’m sure she would. But, I can’t. Not yet. I wouldn’t have even told Moody, but he already knew. Best I can tell, Dumbledore told him. Probably Flitwick, as well, if the letter is any indication. No one else knows, and I intend to keep it that way. Once my training is over with this ‘Macleod’ chap, as well as whatever I can squeeze in with Moody and Flitwick, I’m going after Voldemort. Come September, my mission has begun.”
Hermione started crying, and flung her arms around him. He hugged her back, stroking her hair. “Don’t worry, ‘Mione. I’ll be fine.”
She sobbed into his shoulder. “You don’t know that. What if… What if Voldemort kills you? He hired this ‘Kurgan.’ He obviously knows about Immortals. What if he…” She trailed off as her sobs intensified.
Ron coughed nervously. “Um… I’m going to bed. I’ll just… See you tomorrow, right?” Harry nodded, and Ron exited the kitchen quickly.
Harry kissed the top of Hermione’s head. “Listen, it’s late. I’m a bit tired, I expect from coming back to life, and I’d rather hold you like this in bed. Unless… You know, you’d rather…”
Hermione let out a watery chuckle, pulling up to face him. “Are you mad? I just spent the last two days without you. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” With that, she took his hand, and pulled him out of the kitchen.