Title: Sea Faring Wizards
Warnings: mild violence, swearing, spoilers up to the fifth book
Summary: Something went wrong when their two curses collided, resulting in the Boy-Who-Lived and the Dark Lord Voldemort stuck centuries in the past. Now, Harry and Tom must reluctantly team up against a crew of immortal zombie skeletons in hopes of finding a way home.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series or the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy.
The two red spells clashed, blinding anyone in the vicinity with the flash.
Once the spots left his vision, Albus Dumbledore turned back to the spot where two wizards had dueled in the middle of Hogwarts' lawn. Color drained from his face. There was no one there.
The Dark Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter had vanished.
Harry's breath slammed out of him with a harsh whoosh when he landed on the hard ground. Huffing for breath, he tried to pull his thoughts together. 'What happened? Voldemort and I were dueling. I tried to Stun him, but it hit his spell. Then a lot of red…then what?' Panicked green eyes snapped open. 'Where's Voldemort?'
He quickly pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around. His head whipped to the side when he heard a low groan.
The figure laying a few feet away painstakingly sat up.
Harry's jaw dropped when he saw not Voldemort but Tom Riddle, albeit an older version of the memory in the Chamber of Secrets. "W-What?"
Red eyes blinked open. Tom stared blankly at the green-eyed boy for a moment before remembering the brat was his arch-nemesis. Eyes narrowing, he snarled at the shocked boy. "Potter!"
Harry jumped with a yelp. "What happened to you?"
The Dark Lord frowned in confusion and stood, towering over Harry. 'What happened to me? Has he finally lost his mind?' "Pardon?"
"Y-You have a nose! And hair!" Despite his surprise, Harry noted the malicious red eyes remained.
"What?" The older wizard's hand flew to his face. "Damn it!"
Harry opened his mouth but Voldemort cut him off.
"You! Why is it that every time I try to kill you, something gets in the way? Every. Bloody. Time! Is it so difficult for you to just die already?"
Kicking his legs, Harry tried to get away from the advancing Dark Lord. A seriously pissed off Dark Lord.
"Jussst why isss it, Potter, that I have sssuch trouble killing you with magic? What sssort of protection do you have againssst my magic that isss ssso effective?"
Though Voldemort was still speaking English, there was now a hissing undertone that sent chills down Harry's spine. His back hit a solid object, halting his retreat.
"Even before you were born, you have been a thorn in my ssside, Harry Potter. In an attempt to defy a prophecy, my body wasss dessstroyed when my curssse failed. All my plansss ssset back thirteen yearsss. You essscaped my grasssp in the graveyard, then I find myssself unable to possess you merely a year later. Why? Ssso much trouble over one little boy." Voldemort knelt in front of the boy. His expression betrayed nothing despite the fury coloring his words.
Harry shakily lifted his wand, but a negligent wave of Voldemort's hand sent the piece of wood spinning away. 'Oh, Merlin. I'm going to die.'
"'ey! Wha' goes there? Who are ya?"
Voldemort sneered at the filthy Muggle moving towards them. His eyes caught the gleam of a sword in the stranger's hand. 'Sword?' Thoughtfully, his red eyes flicked over to the terrified boy. Calmly pointing his yew wand at the Muggle, he spoke two words. "Avada Kedavra."
The flash of green light hit the filth's chest and sent the body flying back several feet.
"Well, now that the Muggle is out of the way…"
Harry could only watch helplessly with wide eyes as the poor Muggle died by Voldemort's wand. Fear and guilt assaulted him. 'I'm supposed to be a savior, aren't I?' His eyes burned and moisture made the green eyes appear glassy.
"Accio sword." Voldemort deftly caught the weapon by the handle and leered at the brat. "If I cannot kill you with magic, then I will make due with a messier method. Goodbye, Potter." He raised the sword and prepared to plunge it into Potter's heart.
"Wha' the 'ell was that green ligh'?"
Both wizards turned to the confused voice and watched as the Muggle climbed back onto his feet. Harry's jaw dropped as the stranger dusted off his dirty clothes as though the Killing Curse hadn't just hit him dead on.
"Impossible." Voldemort glanced at his wand. "Impossible. Avada Kedavra!"
Again, the green light hit and knocked the man onto his back. Almost immediately, the stranger got back to his feet, this time with an angry growl. "The 'ell? What are ya?"
Beyond shocked now, Voldemort abandoned the sword and leapt to his feet. "What is this? Don't tell me you're rubbing off on others now, Potter."
Harry sputtered. "What? Don't look at me." He climbed to his feet and silently picked up the sword Voldemort dropped. "I've never seen him before."
The moon chose that moment to break through the cloud cover and shone on the three figures.
The blood drained from his face when Harry saw the "Muggle" suddenly turn into a walking skeleton. "W-What…?"
Voldemort, likewise, had no idea what was going on. He spat out the first spell that came to mind. "Deprimo!"
The rib cage exploded outwards and the visible spine shattered. The skeleton fell to the ground in pieces. "Ahh! Wha' are ya doin'? Don't go 'round breakin' me bones!"
Harry found his finally found his voice. "The skeleton's moving on its own."
Voldemort scoffed. "Very good, Potter. Absolutely brilliant deduction. I may just upgrade your mental capabilities to the level of a five year old. Congratulations."
Harry tensed at the scathing sarcasm. "I'm just saying. It's like a…a zombie!"
The Dark Lord rolled his eyes. "A zombie, Potter? Is that the best you can come up with? For your information, a 'zombie' as you so eloquently put it is called an Inferius. And Inferi are flesh and – I don't know about blood, but they look more human than…that thing." His eyes narrowed at the way the shattered bones were inexorably pulled back towards the main skeleton.
"Well, sorry for not reading up on possible undead things."
"Watch your tone with me, boy, and put that bloody sword down before you hurt yourself. Something is not right. Animating a skeleton is one thing, but to have it, for lack of a better word, healing…I have never heard about anything like this before."
Harry frowned but kept his grip on the weapon. He did angle the pointy end away from Voldemort, though. "So, you aren't going to try and kill me anymore?"
"For now, brat. Go get your wand."
Harry peered around for his wand. "Umm…where's my wand?"
Releasing a silent sigh, Voldemort flicked his wand. The holly stick flew up and smacked the boy on the forehead with a satisfying thwack. He smirked and began walking towards the swearing skeleton.
"Where are we, anyway? I've never been here before."
Pausing, Voldemort looked around. 'I have never been here before either.' He threw a blasting curse at the skull to shut the annoying thing up then cast a Tempus spell.
15 October 1659
The Dark Lord blinked several times to assure himself that he was not seeing things. He held up his yew wand to get a closer look at it in the moonlight. 'Is there something with my wand?' He shook the stick, half-hoping it would fix the problem. He cast the Tempus spell again.
15 October 1659
Voldemort took a deep breath. "Potter!"
"Cast the Tempus spell."
"Just cast the bloody spell before I Crucio you!"
Harry stopped his questioning and cast the spell. He blinked and rubbed his eyes.
"Well, Potter? What does it say?"
The green-eyed boy stared at his wand and shook it, wondering if it was broken. "I think my wand's broken. It says the date's October 15th in 1659."
Voldemort rubbed his temple where a headache was forming. "Fuck."
A few hours later, the two wizards sat in the mouth of a cave and stared at the waves rushing onto the shore then retreating.
Voldemort had gleefully discovered that Legilimency worked on the skeleton a few hours ago. After tearing up the thing's mind and extracting every bit of information possible, he had then practiced the Cruciatus Curse on it. He needed to make sure his wand was working correctly, after all.
Of course, the Golden Boy had been horrified and tried to stop his torture session.
He acquiesced after a few more rounds and Obliviated it. Surprisingly, the memory charm worked.
Now, the two wizards were forced to face the fact that they were stranded centuries in the past.
Harry fidgeted, uncomfortable with the tense silence. "Umm…why do you look like…well, human?"
Voldemort's red eyes flicked over to him then returned to the waves. "I'm a Metamorphmagus."
Harry's jaw dropped. "You are?" He recalled Tonks. "Huh. I got Parseltongue from you, how come I didn't get that ability, too?"
"My Parseltongue ability was passed down from my mother. I obtained the Metamorphmagus ability through a Dark ritual. It involved deflowering a virgin Metamorphmagus then cutting the heart out while the victim is still alive. The heart is boiled in a special potion for 21 days and 21 nights. Then –"
Voldemort raised a brow at the shaking voice. The boy looked rather green, as well. He let loose a bark of laughter. "Bloody hell, boy. Don't you know anything about Dark rituals?"
The horrified look on the boy's face spoke volumes.
The Dark Lord sneered. "So, Dumbledore sends his precious Golden Boy out to fight Dark witches and wizards without any knowledge of the Dark Arts?"
Harry gritted his teeth. "So what if I don't know any Dark Arts? I don't need them."
"Really, Potter, use that head of yours. I never said you had to use the Dark Arts. You should at least learn about them. How can you defend yourself against something you do not understand?"
"I…I don't want anything to do with things like that ritual you used. It's sick and disgusting."
Voldemort sighed. "Brat. One thing you need to know about Dark rituals is that it requires sacrifice. More specifically, a sacrifice from the caster." He scoffed. "Deflowering a virgin then cutting out the still beating heart won't do anything but make a mess and waste time."
"So, you didn't kill a Metamorphmagus?"
"Of course I killed one. I needed at least the body in order to do the ritual." Voldemort mentally rolled his eyes at the offended expression on the boy's face. "Believe me, Potter. I lost more blood than that chit did. In fact, she was unconscious the entire time."
Harry was somewhat mollified that the unknown person had not suffered too much. It was surreal to him, sitting and talking with the Dark Lord about this. 'I'm talking to a murderer about how he kills his victims.' He closed his eyes and changed the subject. "What do we do now?"
Voldemort twirled his wand between his fingers. "We need to find a way home. Unfortunately, it would require you to remain alive."
Despite not really wanting to know, Harry asked, "Why?"
"We arrived here together. What if I kill you now and later discover the only way to return is with your help? No, Potter. I won't kill you until I am absolutely positive that your continued living, breathing existence is not required. I have no intention of staying here any longer than necessary."
"Don't thank me yet, Potter. This is a dangerous time period. Magic is not well tolerated. If we are caught, they will no doubt try to burn us at the stake."
Harry choked slightly. "What? The stake?"
"Oh, grow a backbone, Potter. There is a Flame-Freezing Charm for those occasions, you know. The real issue is integrating with 17th century Muggles." Voldemort thoughtfully tapped his wand against his lips. "We speak like the upper class. Tranfiguring our clothes to appear expensive will be simple enough. But, we don't have money or name recognition, which would be a problem. I suppose we can kill a rich Muggle and take the name. Glamours would be of little concern."
Harry grimaced. 'Why does everything involve killing with him?' "Umm…Voldemort?"
The Dark Lord sneered. 'Then again. The boy doesn't know how to act like a socialite. He will most likely make a fool out of both of us.' "Really, Potter. Just call me Tom."
The green eyed boy smiled slightly. 'That's good. It's easier to see him as a regular person when I can call him Tom. After all, evil mass murderers would never pick such a boring name…Wait.' "I thought you hated that name."
"Oh, so why…?" Harry gulped when those red eyes caught his gaze. He felt as though he were drowning in twin pools of blood. That smirk didn't do much to reassure him either.
"Why, it would give me one more reason on an overly long list of reasons for me to want to kill you, Harry."
The Dark Lord slowly filtered through the information he gleaned from the skeleton. He quietly mumbled to himself, "A Pensieve would be useful right now."
Harry drew random designs in the sand while waiting for his unwilling companion to sort out his thoughts. He added a few tail feathers to the crudely drawn chicken just as his stomach rumbled a complaint. A dull red flush crept up his face. Harry only hoped the red-eyed wizard hadn't heard that.
"We need some place where people won't ask questions. Our best bet would be Tortuga."
Tom pushed himself to his feet. "Some hidden island for pirates. Let's go, Potter, before your stomach draws unwanted attention."
Trying to will back his embarrassment, Harry stood. "How are we going to get there?"
"Umm…is now a good time to tell you that I haven't learned Apparition yet?"
The Dark Lord closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his fury and still his twitching eyebrow. "Potter."
"You are an idiot."
Harry wondered if he should retort.
That's it for chapter 1.
I suppose now would be a good time to inform you that I wrote this piece months ago…maybe longer. I can't remember. But, I just recently found it on one of my USBs, so I don't remember where I was going with this story.
So, please don't expect an update for this story anytime soon.
I'm sure I'll get back into it eventually and make an actual plot. Or, if anyone wants to adopt this and continue it, please send me a message.
Anyways, I love this particular characterization of Voldemort/Tom. Tom was a genius (still is really if you overlook his obvious insanity) during his younger years, and I believe he loved learning and to some extent teaching. After he graduated from Hogwarts, he even tried to apply for the DADA position. Sure, he probably had ulterior motives, but I think he wouldn't have turned out as bad as he did if Dippet let him have the position at that time because everything seriously went downhill after he was rejected.
So in this story, I'm portraying him as a very sarcastic person who hates Harry (for obvious reasons) but still pauses in the middle to give a sarcastic lecture about Inferi to a clueless Boy-Who-Lived. He's comes off as sane enough and he won't hesitate to kill anyone but at least he's being smart about it.
As for Harry, I don't want anyone to think that I portrayed him as an idiot or anything. He's a pretty bright teen, but he's still not that knowledgeable about the Wizarding World. He's good at heart and hates to see other people in pain, but let's face it, he's still only 16 (in this fic).
He got tossed into the Wizarding World without any warning, then he finds out some Dark Lord three or four times his age wants him dead. Then, he's only taught "Light" spells before getting tossed out to fight Dark wizards/witches.
I swear, sometimes I just have to wonder if there are any Child Protections laws in the Wizarding World.
Okay, my rant is done.