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, fighting (possible blood mention)

Pairings: TMR/HP (Tom Marvolo Riddle / Harry Potter), EVENTUALLY: [[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.

Note: Merry Christmas! I mentioned before that I wanted to update a few of the chapters before I updated this fic, but y'know what, that's probably not going to happen and I don't want to keep ya'll waiting. This story has a lot more plot to get through, after all-and considering how slow I want to take it... haha. It'd be bad to keep y'all waiting just because I'm kind of touchy about my old writing.

So Merry Christmas! Not really a Christmas-y installment, but it's an update all the same!

"Who said anything about climbing? I'll just fly us up—"

Tom stopped his Fighter in his tracks. "You are not going to carry me up by the talons."

Harry frowned. "You don't trust me?"

"How comfortable do you think your claws are?" the Magus demanded.

"…Oh. Well that's all beside the point now that I can shift into a roc. I can just carry you on my back. Okay?"

Tom considered it. He ended up nodding in agreement, but eyed the shallow wound on Harry's shoulder all the while. It was the weight of the gaze that caught the other's attention. "May I… try something?"

Bemused, but not against Tom doing what he liked with him—in whatever way—Harry made a noise of assent. He immediately felt a tickling sensation along their bond, almost as if Tom was caressing it in hopes of finding a bump or depression along it. The Fighter shivered—the feeling was odd, and highly intimate, stemming from the very depths of his soul—but he still managed to fight the instinct of letting his mind drift off, trying to focus on what Tom was doing.

He realized, with a spark of surprise—a jolt, a jump, like a sparkler was just lit and the ensuing crackling was an echo of the very first—what his Magus was trying to do when he felt magic trying to move its way down the bond. Because the nullification barrier only applied to attempts of outward manifestation, it could not stop the flow of magic from inside, and in Tom's case, instead of trying to heal wounds from the outside-in, he was doing it the other way around—inside-out.

It was, admittedly, a genius simplicity. It was like… a geyser, instead of a waterfall, where the water cascading downwards into the body of water represented the usual course of action—outside-in—and the geyser pushing up through the ground was the other way, inside-out. It would take more magic to use the latter, of course, which was why the preferred method would always be to heal from the outside-in when magic was involved, but it was better than not being able to recover at all.

In no time, his shoulder was good as new, and Harry tested his limb before deciding it felt well enough to stand a shift. It wasn't like he wasn't going to shift even if Tom didn't heal him—just that he'd probably have to reset his shoulder later should it become dislocated. In the past during his experimentation period, resetting dislocated joints had all been part of the process, and he was neither squeamish nor hesitant with them anymore.

The shift came easier this time, as it always did, his body more familiar with the form he was about to take. That didn't stop the slight pain, but Harry was long used to ignoring it now. However, Tom was not, as Harry realized from the last fight, so he decided he would have to be careful on what went through the bond should they end up in a situation like that again. His Magus shouldn't have to feel the repercussions of being a Bestia-type with more than one form—the knowledge of what they were should be enough. Harry wouldn't dream of forcing it all on anyone in such a manner.

During their flight, which the Fighter decided to keep slow and calm for the sake of his rider and the decreasing oxygen levels as they continued to climb the skies, he felt Tom shift his position slightly atop his back and once again there was a probing at their bond.

Harry mentally shrugged. Again, his Magus could do as he liked. He knew of some Fighter-Magus pairings that were entirely too strict and professional—usually those that were arranged in some way—and the very culture of his forest was a complete one-eighty from that mindset. Besides, Tom seemed like the type to experiment with the unknown fringes of magic anyway. It was really just their luck that they had similar views on the matter.

Har…r y… Harry?

The roc blinked and tilted its head to the side.

Harry, the voice beat again, louder this time and more confident with less static in between. And… and was it just him, or did that sound like—

Harry! Make a sound if you can hear me.

Obeying, the bird of prey opened his beak and let lose a powerful shriek, not yet used to controlling his volume and startling both himself and his passenger.

Well alright, blow my eardrums off would you? Tom somehow managed to covey sarcastically.

Harry shrieked again in defense, though this time he did manage to do so with a bit more control over the sound. He really wanted to ask how Tom was doing… whatever he was doing.

Apparently Tom caught that thought. Really quite simple actually, the Magus replied, I took what happened during our fight with Bellatrix and Rodolphus as a base and built on it. It happens when our thoughts are strong enough, or when we're consciously touching the bond. I can make a wild guess and suppose that once our bond is strong enough, we'll be able to do so without touching it, but that'll need some more experimentation—

The Magus cut off abruptly when he felt his Fighter start poking the bond. …Oh… that sort of feels…

Good humor trickled through from Harry's side, to which Tom scowled at despite his Fighter not being able to see. Something along the lines of a flimsy apology came through next. Harry was making an effort to try and get actual words across, but they weren't completely coming together yet. The sentiment certainly made its way through though.

So distracted was the Fighter with playing with the bond that he almost crashed into one of the tall pine trees sticking up like an army of spearmen. Thankfully, Harry righted himself and dodged the obstacle without a cuff, though Tom did tighten his grip on his feathers rather painfully at the maneuver.

Some throaty sound came from the back of his throat, awkward and high-pitched. So this is how rocs laugh, is it?

The rest of the flight was easy-soaring as Harry was sure not to make the same mistake twice. He wisely kept his focus and let Tom do the poking around for now. Ascension wasn't difficult—especially because Harry already knew how to fly from previous experience with other forms—but he didn't want to risk the safety of his rider, so instead, Harry focused on the landscape below.

The Stone should theoretically be at the top of the mountain, but it probably wasn't as easy as flying to the top, landing on a cliff, and pointing it out lying around in the open. Harry had already thought about it quite a bit—more than likely, the Stone was inside the mountain, where it was safe from weathering or any sort of natural disasters. They could probably find an entrance—or make one—but Harry wasn't sure exactly where the Stone would be.

Tom probably had his own guesses. They'd speak more on it later when Harry was human, he supposed.

When Harry found a place to land nearer but not exactly at the top of the mountain, he decided it was probably best to make the rest of the journey on foot. Not only would they not want to miss any little detail that could be flown over when they were in the air, but the chill of the higher altitudes was probably affecting his rider more than he would've liked. Tom couldn't use his magic to warm his clothing—he could only use it as internal heat. And while that was better than nothing, he'd make no risks to his Magus' health.

Tom sent a wave of agreement through the bond, momentarily surprising the Fighter. Harry, upon receiving the positive opinion, circled around to make sure there weren't any threats before landing. There was a bit of trouble with his size and the trees, but nothing too humiliating.

"Fascinating…" Tom muttered as Harry shifted back. "You can shift back so quickly despite the fact that it's a new form?"

Harry blinked. "I did it before."

"This time it looks… easier though. Significantly."

"Ah… I'm accustomed to shifting into new things though. At the beginning it was very difficult, but once you get the hang of it—" Harry shrugged.

"How many forms do you have?"

"A lot. More than I can count."

Tom looked thoughtful. "Can you list them all?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure… it's intuitive, really," Harry admitted. "If I need a form, I just… shift into the one I need. If I know it. My repertoire is… expansive. If I need to strategize for, say, a battle, I can, but it's half reflex now."

"How do you choose between similar forms?" Tom asked. "Such as birds of prey. A hawk or an owl. Or a cougar and a panther?"

Harry blinked, then shrugged. "Whatever I feel like. Whichever skill set I need. Whatever fits the specific situation—depends on environment, weather, all sorts of things. If it's night time I'll be an owl, for night vision or for comfort. I'd probably be a panther too, to blend in with the darkness. Things like that. I kind of just… go from past experiences. You're very good at observing and analyzing already—it's likely you'll catch the rhythm of it soon enough. I don't think it'll be a problem for long."

Tom smirked at that, smug and proud of being praised by his Fighter. "Then, out of curiosity, is there any form you use the least? The most? Certainly some bodies are more comfortable than others for you."

"Ah, yes. Well, you've seen already—I prefer large cats, since the cougar was my first form. However, aerial forms suit me just as well. I admit I don't excel in the water—there are many forms I can take, and my proficiency is decent enough, but it simply won't match my performance in the air. They're very different, actually—swimming and flying. It'd seem like they'd be the same, and surely they have many similarities, but the sort of creatures that are for the sea and for the sky…"

The Magus nodded. "Then your fighting style—"

Harry grinned. "Not defensive in the least. Mainly based on evasion, speed. Deadly assassination-type blows, of course, but they're less about the force and more about the location of assault. Pressure points, or places like the neck or the eyes—vulnerabilities."

"For the most part we mirror each other, then," concluded Tom with more than a hint of satisfaction.

The Fighter laughed. "Ah, that's right—you're absolutely ruthless, aren't you? I nearly forgot about your title—"The Infinity King"! Infamous for his endless flow of attacks, a barrier or shield won't last long against you. More than your magical power, it's your magical stamina that's unorthodox. You've got firepower and the ability to keep it up. Hey, maybe we do have some synergy after all!"

The look on Tom's face said it all. "The best defense is a good offense," he replied, oozing with self-confidence.

Harry shrugged. "I won't argue with you there, considering that I use nearly the same tactics. They can't hit you if they've already lost."

For once, talk of battle and fighting ability was not overshadowed by a cloud of anxiety and daunting tasks ahead. It was open—like how one would discuss their favorite hobbies—going on forever and ever about a topic they could be enthusiastic about with their knowledge and experience. It was like comparing notes, almost.

And as they moved up the mountain, keeping this surprisingly bright and carefree aura about them, it could be said that something was conveyed between the Magus-Fighter pair that could not have been before. For a pair forged in the crucible of life-or-death, blood and will their clay and trials and tribulations their fire, it was something necessary that they'd previously missed, but now found. Something essential to their future—a foundation to be built upon, of sorts.

They already had trust. They already had shared goals. One could even say they already had compatibility in certain mental regards—

What they were missing was something else, intangible and ineffable. But it settled between them now, tying them together even tighter than they'd been before, not a chain but a precious link, and a special sweetness was added to their ever-growing relationship of Fighter and Magus.

They'd be okay. Not because neither could stand it if they weren't, but because they couldn't bear the thought of each other failing.

It was a certain special something indeed that was conveyed. And later, when the trouble was over and life no longer had that sense of desperation, people would turn around and agree—never knowing that it was this moment that effected it—no one was more fit for Tom than Harry, and no one was more fit for Harry than Tom.

The thought of anyone else?

Absurd, surely!

If only the pair had that confidence in themselves when they'd need it most… from the future to the past, if only.

Word Count: 2215

Word Prompt: Conveyance