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), past LE/JP (Lily Evans / James Potter), past LE/SS (Lily Evans / Severus Snape), -maybe- SB/RL (Sirius Black / Remus Lupin)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, obviously. Characters belong to J.K. Rowling.


When Tom woke, it was to the sun making it just over the horizon and something that sounded suspiciously like a rumbling purr. His eyes snapped open as the sound registered, sitting up quickly and glancing over in the direction of the stream.

Perhaps he had just been hearing things, because there sat just Harry, no creature in sight. He seemed to have just finished washing his face, as it still dripped with the clean water of the stream. In the fire pit, four fish were being cooked, and Tom assumed that Harry had simply woken up early for breakfast.

"Morning," the man said as soon as he saw Tom's upright position. "Breakfast is almost ready."

The Magus inclined his head as a return greeting.

Harry stretched. "I just ate, so feel free to enjoy the fish yourself. There should be some herbs here that could prove useful later on, so I'm probably going to check it out. I'm sure it won't take long."

"Agreeable," Tom murmured. He watched as Harry took off, keen eyes narrowing at the difference in the man's gait. Had it just been him, or had Harry been moving a bit more… gracefully? Cat-like? Something had been different, but he couldn't put a finger on what.

Tom filled up his container before sitting down to eat, having ignored the task last night. He made sure to take a drink himself as well, also taking care to wash his face and neck. Who knew how hot it would be later on, or when they would encounter another water source. He wanted to take a bath, but he didn't exactly know how long Harry would be gone, nor did the stream look deep enough or big enough to take one comfortably, so he avoided the matter.

When they got to Emeraude, he would be sure that taking a nice, long, hot and enjoyable bath would be first on his list. Magic had made such things easy, but that was a luxury he once again did not have at the moment.

Just as he finished putting the fire out, a rumbling sound behind him caused the Magus to swing around, instantly on guard. He hadn't felt anyone by him, so how the hell was it possible that he was snuck up on?!

Tom turned to be face-to-face with a large cat. Or rather, a leopard. It was sitting on a rock a few meters away, looking perfectly relaxed and almost downright lazy. Clearly it did not see him as a threat, but that didn't mean that Tom met it with the same attitude. He remained tense, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

What a leopard was doing here, of all places, was something that Tom didn't particularly dwell on. Rather, its intention was more important. Surely it had been the source of the rumbling purr he had heard when he had awoken, but that left the question as to if Harry had seen it. Was the beast good at hiding or something, or had it been judged non malicious and simply let to go on its merry way?

The creature leapt off of its perch, moving towards Tom slowly though still calm and relaxed. Its pose didn't look dangerous at all, nor did its eyes reflect any hunger. It continued to approach, and Tom was still tense the closer and closer it got. What did it want?

When the leopard was a feet from him, Tom began to feel annoyed when it simply stopped and sat back down. Its eyes looked at him intelligently, but other than that no action was taken. Hearing his sigh, the leopard, in a fluid motion, sprung back up and rubbed against his leg, purring all the while.

Seriously, what the hell?!

It curled about him, head bumping into the back of his knees. Tom stumbled forward, sharply turning his head back to glare at the beast. "What do you want?" he sneered.

Another bump came.

"Stop that," Tom commanded. The leopard paid no heed, continuing to push him forward.

"Will you stop?" the Magus finally groaned, having failed at pushing the creature away. "I don't know what the hell you want—if you're hungry go get your own food!"

The leopard rumbled again, this time imploringly, and its physical urging continued with a faster pace. Tom finally decided to just let it lead him where it wanted him to go—he could always get back to the small encampment later, and he wasn't defenseless just because his magic was sealed.

They seemed to follow the river for a bit, even as it curved to veer off to the left. Eventually they ended up at a pond of some sort, though the water was clear and it didn't seem like any fish were living in it.

The leopard prowled forward, pacing back and forth in front of it for awhile until finally standing at the water's edge and dipping its paw lightly in. When it withdrew, the beast turned its head to stare at him, yawned, and then pounced away.

"What the hell," Tom snarled. "Lead me to a lake, and then leave me! I will never understand animals."

But then he looked at the lake, really looked at it, and then frowned considerately. He really, really wanted a bath. Tom loved being clean as much as the next person, but he wasn't necessarily a clean freak. The thing was though, they had been walking and walking in the hot-hot sun and the dirt seemed to rise into the air and sweat had dripped down his forehead and—

Harry could wait, Tom decided. He wanted a bath. The mysterious leopard that had brought him here could be pondered upon at a later time—preferably after getting clean.


Word Count: 966

Word Prompt: Feline