Quidditch League Season 6: Caerphilly Catapults

Round 5: [Beater 2] Use the title of a story written by your Beater 1 for inspiration - Divergence

Prompts:

(word) playful

(genre) family

...xXx...

This was where he would die.

Tom glanced around the clearing, searching for something that would temporarily fend of the werewolves this close to the full moon. It had been foolish for him to wander around this late, but he had lost track of the days as he followed the cooling trail of those that had cursed him.

It was far more difficult to convince people of noble intentions with a monstrous serpentine appearance. It made him appreciate his previous appearance just a little more every time a small scream escaped the next person on his trail, but if he was to be stuck in this form, then so would the ones who cursed him.

There was no amount of gold that bought trust when every glance flickered from his white scales to his crimson eyes before determinedly looking away from him. Tom had learned that the first time, but Tom would get his revenge. There was nothing that could stop him from casting that very same magic on them in return – his last magic, worthy only for the revenge he desperately sought.

There was also no amount of gold that would prevent snarling werewolves from consuming him whole. His body, while slightly stronger to make up for his magical restriction, was not able to withstand an attack from a pack of magical creatures.

Tom had felt the hot breath of the closest on his skin before it was replaced with a sudden coldness and a startled yelp. A figure crashed through the undergrowth towards the remaining quartet of werewolves. Tom was only able to sink to his knees in relief as the werewolves met their match and decided to retreat with high-pitched whines.

"Are you okay? Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you off for being out tonight! I'm wandering around myself, after all," the figure said brightly. Tom was met with bright green eyes and a wide smile. He eyed the wand the other man stowed away with quiet longing, before dragging himself to his feet.

"I'm fine, Thank you for helping with the wolves." The tree supported him as he stood, wondering at how weak he had become without his magic. "I can't say I'm particularly fond of the feeling of being chewed at by scavengers."

The man laughed. "I would find it difficult to believe anyone would! I'm Harry Potter."

"Call me Voldemort." Tom wasn't sure why they were introducing themselves. They weren't likely to ever see each other again, as was proven as Harry waved in parting after he made sure Tom really was unharmed.

...xXx...

"Hey! You're... Voldemort, right?"

"What are you doing here, Harry?" Tom asked, feeling rather bemused at the likelihood of the meeting. There were many hunters in this particular town, and a great many more people that they both would have passed on the way here, yet it was already the fourth time they had bumped into each other. "At this rate, I'd almost think you were stalking me."

"Oi! I didn't see you back in Hogsmeade! I'm a hunter! There have been lots of complaints about wild animals attacking the townsfolk here, so I decided to scout the place out. I've been at it for a couple of days, and haven't found anything yet." Harry shrugged. "I'm going to head a bit deeper in today, so if you need any help just yell."

Harry disappeared amongst the trees just as Tom was about to retort that he wasn't going to need his help. Tom scowled in the direction Harry had run off in for a good measure, before heading into the forest himself.

As it happened, Tom ended up needing Harry's help again. This time with a herd of wild hippogryphs, and Tom was starting to detest how much debt he owed to Harry for saving him yet again. He truly disliked having open debts, but there was nothing he could offer the hunter until his personal quest was completed.

"You look sick," Tom stated as soon as Harry settled next to him, with gasping breaths. "I don't believe you can get that unfit in a week either."

Harry shrugged, grin making its way onto his face again. "I've been feeling a little under the weather for a couple of days. It could probably be a lot worse."

Tom offered him a deadpan stare before settling next to Harry, except in the sun as his body seemed to sometimes crave. "Why did you become a hunter? I'd imagine there are tons of other possible professions you could have chosen from with your personality and skills."

The smile Harry wore faded a little. His eyes closed, and Tom realised what a minefield he had found himself in.

When his eyes opened, they were haunted, a little darker than they usually were, but Harry began speaking. "It was the only way for me to escape from my relatives. They don't have magic, and hated me for it. Hogwarts was accepting applications for Hunters and I was accepted. My parents were hunters too, so maybe it was also a little bit of a way to be closer to them. It's difficult to put an exact reason why I stuck with being a hunter, though."

Harry's eyes said otherwise – they told Tom that Harry knew exactly why he was still a hunter – but Tom decided he wouldn't push Harry. At the rate they were going, there would be time to satisfy his curiosity later.

"Alright, I feel better!" Harry claimed, jumping up what felt like moments later. "Thanks for keeping me company!"

"You do not look better!" Tom yelled as Harry disappeared in search of whichever obscure creature he was looking for. Tom didn't think Harry heard him.

...xXx...

They met twice more before Harry informed Tom that he was heading far north towards Durmstrang, and it was truly unlikely they would ever see each other again. Tom could still remember rolling his eyes and expecting to see Harry within the month anyway.

But that month passed.

Then another.

Harry's words held true, and Tom didn't even hear whispers of the stupidly courageous hunter passing through any of the villages and towns on the way. For several villages, he even managed to focus on finding the information he wanted, but once the first question about Harry left his lips, the floodgate had opened.

Tom nearly cursed himself as he begun heading north towards Durmstrang. It was the only solid clue of Harry's whereabouts, and the hunter was going to be his companion or Tom was sure he wasn't going to get anything done.

Durmstrang was one of the more militant towns in the north. They'd had their fair share of dragon attacks and come out stronger for it. Entering the town meant going through their great many verifications to ensure security but the guards at the entrance to the town were able to point him in Harry's direction, so he reined his frustration in.

The innkeeper confirmed Harry's presence there, and Tom left his belongings in the room he hoped he wouldn't need to stay at for too long. He had an old wizard to curse, and his detour had already set him back three months.

He found Harry under a tree.

He found a very pale Harry under a tree.

"What did you do this time?" Tom hissed as he stood over Harry's still form. One green eye squinted open.

"Are you following me?! You were supposed to be heading towards Beauxbatons, which is nowhere near here!"

"Answer my question."

"I was sleeping. Perhaps you've heard of it? Maybe even partake in it yourself on occasion?" Despite his playful words, Harry's voice was weak and his eyes barely focussed on Tom.

"You could pass for a ghost, even though you don't have any injuries. Now tell me the truth, Harry." Tom leaned against the tree as Harry's half-glare found him. "Don't be petulant. I'm trying to help."

"For once, this is completely and utterly not my fault. I think. The night my parents died, I was also there. I was supposed to have died with them, but I was cursed instead. There are supposedly some conditions to break the curse, as I found out when I met my godmother after escaping my relatives, but no one could figure out what it was. Being surrounded by magic made it worse, so I left. I wandered from place to place, not wanting to get too attached. I chased death while death chased me, but I guess the curse got me first."

"And you're not at all concerned that you're going to die at, what? Twenty-two?" Tom's eyes narrowed. "I'll remove the curse, but if you even think about dying during the casting, I'll revive you to murder you myself."

A pair of brushed and ink was pulled out from Tom's pockets, and he settled next to Harry before Harry had the chance to protest.

"Don't you need to, I don't know, curse a man into a goat, or something?" Harry grinned weakly. "That was supposed to be your life's purpose, right?"

Tom glared. "I'm saving your life, imp. Don't make me regret it."

Harry's eyes flickered shut. "What do I do with that life, though? My life's plan never made it beyond this point. Well, the entire plan was probably more along the lines of 'if I'm going to die anyway, might as well'. I don't suppose you're particularly supportive of that life motto."

"You'll be my apprentice. I'll teach you magic, the curse I intended to cast in particular, in exchange for me saving your life," Tom announced.

"...Without magic," Harry repeated.

Tom's eye twitched. "My lack of magic does not degrade my teaching ability. I will not stand you slacking, do you understand?"

Harry rolled his eyes as the runes slowly came to cover his entire body.

"Vol-de-mort," Harry groaned. "I don't know if I can stay still that long without sleeping."

Harry felt the brush strokes pause for a long moment, and he nearly thought he really was annoying the other enough to just ditch him there, when the brush swiped against his forehead.

"Tom. My name is Tom. And you'd better stay still without sleeping, or I will force-feed you a potion to immobilise you for the rest of the afternoon, understood?"