Summary: Tom Riddle, one of the century's most powerful Magus prodigies, claims he doesn't need a Fighter. And he doesn't; Bestia-type Fighter Harry Potter just happens to be a convenience when he picks him up. Drabble Series!
Warnings: Slash, AU, ~1k word count drabbles, fighting (possible blood mention), very loose possible comparison to Loveless (anime/manga)
Pairings: TMR/HP (Tom Marvolo Riddle / Harry Potter)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, obviously. Characters belong to J.K. Rowling :)
Note: Probably shouldn't be writing another story. Oh well; drabbles galore! Shameless self advertisement: please visit my stories Blood Stained and Lettered as well as The Game~
It was nothing, really. Nothing at all. Tom moved through the forest brush smooth and silent, avoiding roots and rocks without even looking where he was stepping. For some ridiculous, outrageous reason, the Wizengamot felt the need to send him out on a "quest" to prove himself that he didn't need a Fighter. They were hoping he would fail. They were hoping that he would find a Fighter along the way.
Tom heavily disagreed—but at his current status now, there was no way he could possibly combat their decree, so here he was, traveling through a forest that he had no idea the size of, or what lurks within, or even what direction he was actually going. The Wizengamot had lacked the foresight to tell him that his routes would take him through places that nullified magic.
His eye twitched when it seemed like no exit or clearing would appear soon. How long had he been walking again?
This was absolutely ridiculous. He bet that old man—Dumbledore, with his eyes twinkling at the expense he just knew Tom was going to go through—was laughing right now. Laughing and gulping down lemon drops at five a second. Tom hoped he choked.
A rustle came from his right and instantly, the Magus lifted his palm in that direction and sent a burst of magic towards the sound. Just because this place nullified magic didn't mean he couldn't use it, so to speak; just that it was irritatingly difficult to. Tom didn't like blocks, and if he were any lesser of a Magus, the block would've worked.
The burst hit something, causing an inhuman squeak, and from the bush ran out a squirrel, its cheeks greedily stuffed with acorns.
Tom felt his eye twitch again. Damn this forest for all its worth—!
The squirrel stopped its frantic retreat as the acorns popped out of its mouth, turning its head sharply to glare at him accusingly as it raised itself up on its hind legs. Oh, so it was his fault now?!
"Rodent," he snarled, tired of the color green and tired of not knowing where he was going. "You dare—"
Tom didn't get to finish his sentence, the squirrel having turned to leave in a haughty dismissal. Oh, that was so definitely it!
Not caring about wasting energy using magic through the nullification barrier, the Magus shot several bursts of powerful magic at the squirrel, fully intent on punishing it for its attitude. It was a simple creature, after all! Wild and savage and what not; probably had rabies too. How dare it look at him like he was inferior!
Without turning around, the squirrel dodged all that was sent at him, moving in an odd zigzag that caused all of Tom's attacks to miss with absurd ease. It began to run up the trunk of a tree, but the Magus certainly wasn't having any of that. Another blast of magic almost hit the squirrel, but it dodged again and leapt to the ground, running and ducking under the forest's natural hiding places.
Tom chased after it. He was so fucking tired, and this stupid squirrel was the last straw!
Unlike his first attack, all of the others seemed to miss—most likely evaded as Tom was a very, very good shot—and the squirrel continued to dash further into, or at least was assumed to, the forest. Trees and foliage whirled past the Magus' vision, though he never tripped or stumbled, and it was only until they reached a clearing did Tom make a mistake.
He snarled, throwing a violent burst of magic at the squirrel's general direction, enraged because of the damned block and the fact that he was supposed to never miss his target.
The squirrel was currently at the base of a strange stone. Obviously, it dodged the attack and ran up its shiny, reflective surface. The bolt struck the stone and, taking Tom completely off guard, bounced right off of the weird stone and headed straight towards him. He was too surprised to dodge, and the only thing he could see before completely blacking out was a worried human figure hovering over him and yelling out.
Word Count: 703