Oliver Tod and the Triwizard Tournament

As Oliver Tod begins his first year as a fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he finds himself lusting after none other than the brilliant Hermione Granger. In his journey throughout the year, he is forced to choose between life and death, honesty and deceit, good and evil. Where will his choices lead him?

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1. The Notorious Making of Captain Tod

      As I evacuated the Hogwarts Express along with the other fourth years, I couldn't help but feel withdrawn from them. Maybe because I had been busy on the acceptance year, and had been in labor, working for a Russian entrepreneur in Sweden by the name of Rosci Brütenich, the remaining two years I was absent. However, living in Sweden for nearly ninety years, you would suspect my hair had begun thinning and turning grey, that my accent would be a thick Swedish from the language's influence; or maybe that I wouldn't even be walking this planet. But I have remained at the age of eighteen for as long as I can remember, cursing the Earth I plant my on with a deadly, venomous disease. My accent was not a Swedish one. It was a subtle hint of Irish and English that invaded my dialect like a bacteria. 
     Before I came to the United Kingdom, I was an assassin, working for anyone who needed my assistance. Of course, assassination wasn't my favorite occupation, but it paid good money, and it focused on helping the poor get out of messy situations. As I wasn't completely human, I didn't precisely use weapons, per say. Unless you count my fangs and strength. Weapons were only used to make it obvious that the victim had done wrong. But, however, I had the precise skills needed to perform my tasks; I was cunning, intelligent, elusive, alluring, and above all, intimidating.
     I remember every little detail of my last contract, as if it has been burned into my memory, to eternally haunt me and murder me with guilt...

     It was 1924. The heavy rain pattered against the back of my leather jacket as it also matted my hair. I was scheduled to meet my client in the lower-class pub in the lower district of town, however it was on the other side of the city, a three mile walk from my residence on a cliff in the forest.
     As I enter the pub, I'm immediately greeted by the old men at the bar, and a waitress takes my jacket, hanging it up in the rack beside the door. She offers to take my hat, but I refuse to take it off, for it would reveal the black hue of my iris. I hadn't fed in over a week, and my eyes had begun to darken until they were the color of a starless night. Normally, they were a bright reddish-gold, and could normally be passed off as a rare birth defect. 
     I ordered a brandy, then glided up the states to the inn rooms. The last door on the left was the destination in which I was to meet Louis McCray, a fisherman and my contract. 
     Opening the door slowly, he waved me in and motioned to the chair across from him next to the makeshift fireplace. He cleared his throat before speaking.
     "Good evening, Oliver."
     I took a sip of my drink, then sat it on the end table in between both chairs. "Good evening to you as well, McCray. I expect you have forth brought your payment? As well as the details of my contract, and the signature of Katherine Swan?" I removed my hat, and raised my eyebrows, smirking slightly for intimidation.
     He swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, I have. Here," he said, handing me a thick envelope.
     I opened it, revealing a piece of parchment containing the details of the contract, George McLaggen, a wealthy market owner, and a letter of permission from the ship captain of the 'Empress', the woman in which I had bought an extra ship of hers that had been recently built. A clunk hit the end table as he dropped a bag on the wooded top.
     "Fifty sterling pounds, paid in full." He said, a little sullen.
     I linked a connection between my mind and his, invading his thoughts.
     I can't believe I just laid fifty pounds down, he thought. That's nearly a two months paycheck.
     Instantly, I felt bad for him. So, I resolved this problem, like always.
     I picked the bag up, dumped out half of the payment, then returned the bag back as I dumped the twenty-five pounds into the pocket of my slacks. He looked at me with confusion and thanking.
     "I shall make a deal with you. You can keep what is in that bag, if you swear yourself to me and my ship." I told him, a glint of hope leaking from my smile.
     He smiled back and said, "Of course, sir! But my son, Emmet, can't be left by himself here. May I bring him with me"
     I nodded, standing up and finishing my brandy in a gulp. "Louis, please, don't call sir. I've known you for twelve years. You may be allowed to bring along young Emmet, but I expect labor out of him. I cannot afford one to eat my food and sleep in my beds for free."
     He walked with me down the stairs, "Of course, Oliver. I thank for a thousand times."
     I recovered my coat and walked out to the porch of the pub. "Meet me at the docks on Friday at noon. That is when we will set off for Sweden."
     He shook my hand with both of his. "Thank you, Oliver. Thank you."

     I made it back to my temporary estate around midnight, only after helping myself to a light 'snack'. My abecedarians were in the lounge, laughing and drinking. A few even had the nerve to bring tramps into my house. No matter, it had been a long day, and I was more than ready for a twelve hour slumber. As I open the door the my master suite, on my bed is one of my apprentice's giving it rough to his whore. 
     "Joey, for the sake of the Gods! Go fuck your harlot somewhere else, mate! You know my room's off limits." 
     He stood up and pulled on his pants, grabbing his whore by the hair and taking her to a room across the hall. I shook my head, these boys and their bloody hormones. 
     I pulled one of the sheets that had fallen on the floor and wrapped it around my arm. I opened up the window and looked down, three stories below me was the ground. Getting a good grip, I pulled myself up onto one of the stone's handholds. Climbing like I would a mountain, I finally made it to the roof. Taking in the beautiful scenery, it reminded me of an Irish version of New Orleans. I sat down, pulled my knees close to my chest and wrapped the red sheet around me as the wind whipped it into my face.
     I overlooked as many innocent, happy couples walked the streets, laughing and snuggling up to each other lovingly. Oh, how I wanted to snuggle... No, I thought to myself. You must never get close to a human. If you start to have feelings, you could hurt them. Then you'll lose everything. That is what the Volturi told me. They are like the Italian mafia, only they're vampires, and much, much older and wiser. They make the laws of our kind, and enforce them harshly upon us. They must keep their positive roles in our government by keeping our existence a secret away from humans.
     I reckon their immense power and influence over us is possibly the result as to why they are the most feared coven of vampires in existence. Of course, some vampires may find a single vampire more intimidating than the Volturi, as it may be a historical civil dispute. 
     I sighed. These newborn vampires I had created were meant to help me on my way to success, not hinder it only to be exposed to mortals and taken down by the Vampire Government. It was outrageous, these plans of mine. Why did I ever expect any of my ideas to go into action and succeed? I was a young vampire. I had been given another shot at being a hybrid of the two enemy species: vampire and werewolf. Though, I tended to categorize myself as a vampire, considering it is which I was physically, unless massively enraged. This was my second time being a hybrid. My first time had ended when I was offered to become a legitimate mortal by my father, Zeus. 
     The history of my life was this...

     Before the Earth inhabited humans, cyclops, and other mythological creatures and beings, there were the Gods. The first-born child of Zeus and Hera was a strong, handsome boy named Aleksandir. Aleksandir grew up to be the most wanted God by the female nymphs and demigods. They bore another child, a daughter, named Clairessa. She, as well as her brother, was chased by demigods and male nymphs. She became a close friend to Artemis and Athena. The last child to become part of their family, was a boy in which they named Vladimir. 
     He idoled his older siblings, as a younger brother normally does. He ate the same amount of ambrosia they did, drank the same nectar and same tonics. He even chased after a few nymphs... Until him and his brother had lured the same one his father had cast off-limits.
     When they were summoned to their father's throne on Mount Olympus, their father was outraged.
     "Why have you advanced on the nymph in which I formally forbade you, my sons?" Zeus booming voice crackled at the skies.
     Aleksandir, who was now twenty-one, stood bravely at his father's feet. "I'm sorry, Father. It was my idea, not Vladimir's. He was merely helping me. Please, punish me! Leave him out of this."
     However, their father would not here of this. They were both banished from Mount Olympus, casted down to Earth, and cursed with a disease in which they called 'vampirism'. This allowed them access to hundreds of different abilities and powers, but the strength that was more than enough to crush a human, never allowing them to have sensual physical contact with a mortal. 
     After a few thousand years, their father finally forgave them, and offered their immortality back; but Vlad did not take it. He became an addict to the blood in which he drank, and the thrill that the hunt of a helpless human gave him. An adrenaline rush coursed through his body as he hunted down his prey, striking fear into its heart, and sucked its body dry. Him and his brother had separated ways because of the horrifying brutality of his feast. 
     Aleksandir offered to sober him from the frenzy he had begun, but Vladimir was too deep in his own fantasy. His brother tried to use force against him, however, this only enraged the young boy.
     Aleks declined the immortality as well, never failing to aid his younger brother from the cursed life of brutal vampirism...

     My name remains as Vladimir to my family, but Oliver Tod is my alias. I am eighteen years old, but can change my appearance to any age, and can even distort my physical details and appearance. I inhabit many powers and abilities that have succeeded me over these past millennium. Vampires alike have evolved into stronger, faster, more alluring creatures; but the amount of their abilities have dramatically decreased. A vampire is lucky to have just one power. Two abilities is impeccably rare. One thing has not changed, however: the thirst for blood.
     A few covens of vampires have successfully embraced the practice of 'vegetarianism', which is feeding off only on the blood of animals. A rare practice is that of being a type of omnivore, feeding on both humans and animals. This is the practice I have taken up, but I prefer blood from the source rather than the unfulfilling blood of mammals. 
     Around 1750 is when I began to forge my own 'armies' of vampires, werewolves, witches and wizards alike. They weren't formed to gain power in the so-called 'fabricated' world of mythology, but to provide protection to myself and my allied species. 
     By the early 1900s, my armies had begun to disperse. Only few remained loyal to my title and, for their loyalty, had been granted higher status in my brigade. A young Southern gentleman from the United States by the name of Cooper Dixon was one of those men brave enough to stand beside me. I proclaimed him my right-hand man, and from then on, me and him were war brothers. 

     I flashed back into reality. The sun was beginning to rise, and I realized that I hadn't earned a wink of sleep. I sighed and let my sheet float away with the heavy Irish wind. I needed to get away from here. This place had too many negative memories, that creating positive ones was beyond an option. I held my breath and I climbed through my window, taking the parcel from the desk and reading over the parchment.

Name: George McLaggen
Age: 27
Preferred location: Lady Pricilla's Resturaunt
Status: middle-high class
Notes: Owner of the fishing market of the city's dock. Has not payed client fair income the last few weeks. Over half of regular fixed income has been rebated. 

     Attached was the letter of consent from Kat, a bloodthirsty pirate and the captain of her own ship. She is also one of the few who remained loyal during the times of the Great Deception. I created her just before the Civil War, and let me tell you, she made a hell of a soldier. 
     I folded up both documents and placed them both in the inside pocket of my topcoat. I slicked my hair back with the Sonny grease an older gentleman had given to me a few nights before. I tipped my fedora forward slightly, casting an eerie shadow over my face, distorting its features into that of a serial killer. I guess I fit the look.
     Glancing at my pocket watch that read four twenty-three, I headed out my bedroom door and double checked that I locked it. When I made it down the spiral staircase, the image I caught in the parlor was horrifying.
     Blood soaked into the wooden floorboards as deep red stained the couches and love seats. The naked, lifeless bodies of courtesans lay on the floor, blood painting their pale flesh. 
     I buried my nose into the sleeve of my coat, trying to mask the horrid smell of newly rotting flesh and massive amounts of iron in the retched blood. The smell sent me into a state of nausea, and I rushed out of the house as quick as I could.
     When my nose was not corrupted by the stench, and I was outside the house, on the cliff, I took in a deep breath. Wildflowers and honey invaded my nostrils and I was taken aback by the wonderful euphoria of sensations. I reevaluated myself, and forced myself leisurely towards the stables.
     I only owned one horse, a jet black stallion with ice blue eyes, and strands of gold in his hair. He was an immortal horse, so I named him Phoenix, which is sort of a coincidence as he is the offspring of a black stallion and a white Pegasus, and can sprout wings and fly. There were two other horses in the stables. However, they were owned by Cooper and his wife, Esmerelda Santiago, a Spanish trader's daughter. Esmeralda's was a beautiful white and brown female paint, whose mane she placed an eagle's feather in, like the early Indians. Cooper, being from Texas in the United States, had begged me to buy him an American, chestnut colored Quarter horse, and named him Leroy.
     I saddled Phoenix up with his white dress saddle and matching reigns. I pulled myself onto him, cracked my reigns, and sent him sprinting out of the stables. 
     When we made it to the dirt road, he slowed to a canter. Since he hadn't been rode in a few days, I snapped my reigns and spurred at his sides. He knew this meant to pick up the pace so he slowly inclined to a gallop.
     We came up to the city ten minutes later. A few gents waved their hats at us and smiled. You could say I was well-known around these parts.
     I walked Phoenix up to the resturaunt where I was supposed to track, hunt, and kill George McLaggen. 
     As I tied him to the post next to the water trough, I whispered to him, "Listen Phoenix, thirty minutes from this moment, you untie yourself and go around to the back behind the resturaunt. Stand below the third window from the right on the third floor, that is the high-class dining area. The third room is an extra, used for meetings. I'm going to excuse McLaggen from his current doings for a discussion on 'fishing market rates'. I'll do him over, then we'll escape back home, like always. Check?" 
     He whinnied in agreement. I smiled and rubbed his nose, "Good boy."
     I did not let the hostess take my coat, nor my hat. This would be over quick. I walked up to the front desk, "I'm here for Mrs. Katherine Swan." 
     The clerk looked at me curiously, "Mrs. Swan is not taking visitors."
     I bit my cheek. Stupid fool. "I am Oliver Tod. I reckon she Is expecting me."
     His eyes widened in fear, "Mr. Tod, I beg your pardon! I wasn't familiar with your face. Please, third floor, last door on the right hallway."
     "Stupid, mediocre imbecile," I muttered as I stomped upstairs. 
     I found the door, and it was opened for me by two men in green uniforms. I nodded to them as I found Kat, Esmerelda and Cooper prattling with McLaggen. 
     "This seat is not taken, if I am correct?" I asked, holding the chair across from McLaggen and next to Katherine. She winked at me as I sat down before being answered.
     "I'm guessing your Oliver. The one who acts before given an answer." It was McLaggen who spoke. I noticed he had a son with him, who seemed to be less than three years old. 
     I ignored his question. "Where is his mother? Obviously, he isn't old enough to be involved in mature affairs such as these. Should he not have stayed home with his madrè?" I asked, pointing towards the golden-haired, brown-eyed child.
     McLaggen cleared his throat, and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "His mother died giving birth. I'm all he has left." Sorrow and hatred filled his eyes. I looked at the boy, who was pulling on his father's sleeve, trying desperately to get his attention. 
     "David, will you stop that?" He yelled at his son, swatting his chubby hand off of his expensive jacket. "Finish your lobster."
     The toddler rolled up his sleeves, and grabbed at one of the three lobsters on his plate. As he did this, I noticed two faint, blue bruises on each of his arms, and a thick scar on his right hand.
     For a moment, I was breathless. This man - this monster - had been abusing his own child, no doubt a 'punishment' for the death of his wife. 
     I stared at David. Not even three years old, and defenseless from his father's wrath. His brown eyes did not hold innocence as a toddler's should. Instead, they were burdened with scars and painful memories, a lot like my own.
     I cleared my throat. "George, if you will, would you like to accompany me in the living area for champagne and conversations of the fishing market?" 
     This must have caught his attention because he looked up from his eating and replied, "Uh, I'd be delighted. Allow me to choose from the selection." He got up from his seat and went up to the bar.
     I turned to Katherine. "Keep an eye on the boy. When the job is finished, bring him to my estate. I cannot allow him to live in that madness any longer." And with that, I followed McLaggen to the living room.
     
    He placed the champagne in the ice bucket. I took a seat next to the dining utensils on the table. He sat next to the champagne, and popped it open as he poured a glass. The already tipsy man took a few gulps before letting out an alcohol scented burp. 
     "Pardon me." He said, pounding on his chest. "So, are you interested in the market itself, or the fishing techniques used to reel in the biggest catches." 
     I tilted my head down and smirked, my eyes barely visible to him. "Actually, I'm more stimulated by the minimum wage you've been providing Mr. McCray."
     This obviously took him by surprised. He stood up and asked, "How did you know abou-.." 
     I jolted up in vampiric speed and spin kicked him in the jaw, sending him up in the air, hitting the glass chandelier, and falling back to the ground. A few pieces of broken glass fell on his back. 
     I picked him up by his hair, and pushed him against the wall, now holding him by the collar of his shirt, leaving his body dangling a foot from the ground.
     "You have been ripping off your employees for the past couple of weeks. One who has been severely affected has asked me of my services to put a permanent end to this. However, this is also a civil dispute now. How dare you put your hands on an innocent child, one who is nearly one fifth your size!" I punched him in his nose, a crunch telling me it was broken.
     Blood oozed out and dropped down his front and onto my hand. At the smell of fresh, pumping blood, my fangs popped out of my gums. He opened his mouth, his lips quivering, but no words came out. I punched him in the eye for lack of communication.
     "So you have nothing to say for yourself?!" I yelled at him. 
     He shook his head. With that, I grabbed him by his hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck. I licked at my lips hungrily, and bit into his flesh. The crimson deliciousness flowed over my tongue as I gulped it down, allowing access to more in my mouth. Obit down harder, letting the blood flow faster out of his bite wounds. 
     As the taste started to become more sour, I knew he was almost dry. His body dropped lifeless onto the floor, and then I heard a small whimper in the corner of the room.
     I looked over towards the door to see it cracked, and young David in the corner, sitting with his knees pulled up against his body, staring at the cold body of his father. 
     All of the blood drained from my face. I had gone cold. My body was numb. Never, in all my years of work, have I ever been caught in the act; and by a child, nonetheless! 
     Just then, Cooper and Kat bolted into the room, looking at me, then McLaggen, then at the boy. Kat snatched him up and was shushing him, trying to sooth his sobbing. 
     Cooper put his hand firmly on my shoulder. "Oliver! Mate, you've got to get out of here. We'll compel any witnesses that seen us or you or the boy enter the room. Hurry, you must leave!" 
     With the little bit of reality I still had, I remembered my escape plan. I jumped out the window, hoping Phoenix had made it in time. I realized my theory was correct as I hit solid leather and was being jolted towards the forest.
     The entire ride home, I hadn't remembered anything except the fear in David's eyes as he saw his father, dead on the floor. 
     
     I awoke on the floor in the stables, Phoenix in his stable, and his gear back in the racks. I stood up, and brushed myself off until a wave of dizziness hit me like a train. Holding my head, I walked up the hill to my lodging. 
     When I entered the house, everyone was in the lounge, except for Katherine.
     "What are all you ninnies staring at? Bloody hell, my head hurts. Where's Kat?" I asked them.
     Hayden Schmidt, one of the newest editions to our coven, stood up. "She's upstairs with the boy. Oliver, how could you let yourself be caught in the middle of this? What are you going to say when they interrogate the boy?" He asked harshly.
     I shook my head, which only made the throbbing in my skull worse. "No one will be interrogating the boy. I'm going to take him away with me to Sweden. I'm going to change his identity. I'm going to adopt him. You don't know what he's been through. He has no more family."
     They all stared at me like I was crazy. I didn't care. I bolted up the stairs, and found Katherine quietly shutting the door of a guest room. As I walked towards her, she put a finger to her lip. 
     "He's finally asleep. He kept asking if his Papa was going to wake up." She looked sad for once. Katherine Swan always had a tough, invincible look on her face. 
     I lowered my head
     "Ollie, what are you gonna do? He has no family. We can't turn him into the authorities. The best thing to do is to give him to an orphanage."
     My head snapped up. "Hell no, we're not! I know what that's like. Waiting, day after day, hoping someone is going to swoop down and give you warm food, warm sheets, and unconditional love. Guess what, Katherine? It doesn't work like that. There is no happy ending for those kids. I'm taking him with me." I whipped around her and put my hand on the doorknob. Before I could turn it, she placed her hand on mine.
     "Oliver, are you sure about this? Taking care of a child is a very large responsibility. And for your information, you'll be the captain of your own ship. Will you even have time to tend to the boy?" 
     I let go of the knob and turned to her. "This is my moment, Kat. To make my life better. I didn't realize how terrible I was living until I saw this boy," I told her, pointing at the door. "Please, help me with this. Help me raise him. I can be a positive father figure, but no child can go without a mother."
     She shook her head and smiled. "You're off your head, you know that?"
     I laughed and nodded. "Yes, you've made that quite clear these past hundred years."
     Her face turned serious before she said, "This means I'll have to sail to Sweden with you. What about my ship?"
     I looked past the railing, down into the lounge, my eyes on one, loyal vampire. I turned my head back to Katherine. "I think Cooper deserves a shot as Captain. 
     She laughed in amusement. "That buffoon? He doesn't know how to command a four star ship!"
     I gave her my best imploring face and asked in my charming voice, "Kat, please! Oh, please! I promise I'll pay for all expenses."
     She tapped her index finger on her lips. "Hmm. I guess... As long as I get to chose our housing. We won't have to get married, will we?" She asked, her face filled with horror and humor.
     I threw my head back and laughed. "De jeito nenhum! I wouldn't marry you for a dinner with the the president of the United States and a mansion on Loch Deütch!" I told her jokingly.
     She punched my arm. "Good. I couldn't put up with you, anyways. You're too much of a whiner."
     I shook my head and she bounded down the stairs. Good ol' Katherine, I said to myself.

     That Friday, my clothes were packed, along with the new ones I had bought David, who wants his 'pirate name' to be 'Davie Sparrow', like the once great pirate, Captain Jack Sparrow. I laughed at this, the boy had imagination.
     As we loaded all of the appropriate cargo onto the ship, which I had named The Phoenix, Kat stood on the other side of the dock, handing over a scroll to Cooper. They were both looking quite bilious, possibly because this was the first time they would be separated since they were created. These two would be, what you would call, unblooded siblings. 
     As Katherine walked towards The Phoenix, her head downcast, I noticed just why she was completely depressed. 
     When vampires fall in love with a significant other that they believe is the one they believe they'll spend eternity with, they link a connection towards them known as the Welt. Sometimes, the one who had been welted on returns the feelings, and they are united. On less fortunate ones like this, the feelings are not mutual, and one is left devastated.
     As she approached, I pulled her into an embrace, and her tears began to soak my neck, making my hair stick to my ear. "I know, shh. It's all right." I soothed her hair back reassuringly.
     We boarded the ship with nothing much to say to each other. We decided that we would have plenty to say over the next few decades. 

     When we made it to Sweden, David had begun to show unusual talents. He could make things move without touching them. He could make flowers bloom and summon fish to the bank. We discovered that he came was a long line of wizards, and that he was a pure-blood. 
     At age eleven, he attended a wizarding school in Scotland called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was sorted into Gryffindor house, and by age twenty-three, he had three kids who would attend the school as well. 
     He knew the secret of Katherine and I, and, somehow forgave me for what I did to his father. When his kids asked why 'Grandfather Ollie' didn't have grey hair like their friend's grandfathers did, he replied with 'because he's special'. 
     They didn't bother Kat with it as much. They said she wouldn't be pretty with wrinkles and grey hair. I, strangely, agreed.
     Nearly twenty years later, his kids had also had kids. A short period of time after, me and Kat's hearts broke as we watched David 'Sparrow' McLaggen's body being lowered into the ground in a casket. We wept with hatred, sorrow, and joy. He had lived an admirable life, raising his kids to be fine adults, passing on morals that they would pass on to their kids, and so forth.
     Ending the 'three child tradition', one of David's great-grandchildren had an only child, in which he named Cormac David McLaggen.

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