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Elemental Trinity

A Harry Potter/Pokémon Crossover

By Zero Rewind

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After a few seconds of petting, I regained my bearings, picked up the ball, and turned to the black box, the strange dinosaur-like creature moving to stand beside me.

I tried making sense of it all.

"Just what are you?" I stared down at the creature, which pointed at itself in reply, as if to say 'I'm me, duh'. It even possessed an understanding of English, which was quite odd. Perhaps it understood my gesture of pointing at it and turning my hand? There was no way to know.

I smiled slightly and placed my hand on the black box, wondering where it came from.

Who made it?

According to Slytherin, it had existed before the earliest mention of human civilization.

How much history did we lose as humans?

I felt a strange pull from the box.

Was it still feeding on my energy?

Curious despite myself, I kept my hand on the box, feeling it drain me of power for the next thirty seconds. With another hiss, a slot opened at its base, ejecting a sleek, red device. The pull on my magic stopped.

"Huh." I muttered and pulled the device out. Fiddling with it for a few seconds, I managed to open it, revealing a black screen which promptly turned on, displaying a language I didn't understand. Then, it began to speak in what I assumed was the same language.

'I don't understand any of this. What even is this gadget?' I thought, fiddling with the buttons. This thing was more advanced than anything I'd ever seen before.

I knew this, because I'd seen the game consoles and handhelds that Dudley would always receive. They were bulky things, incapable of displaying anything but the most basic of shapes and colors.

The screen on this thing, on the other hand, displayed perfect images and letters.

I turned to stare at its back, hoping there was some button to turn off the sound.

The glass covered circle at the back shone with a green light, before emitting a beam which roved over my form— it was scanning me, I realized— before flashing furiously.

"Weuo, de kitop fronas—" The machine stopped for a second. "Language settings modified. Switching to the language of the Ekans, Seviper and Snivy species."

"What the hell? You can understand me?" I hissed back in shock.

The machine beeped once. I faintly turned the screen, realizing that I could read the words perfectly, now. It wasn't English, though. What was this language?

Wait, the machine…

"You said the language settings were modified?" I asked. If this was true, then this was written Parseltongue. Was there such a thing?

"Affirmative. Scans indicate you possess the innate language of the snake lines. How a human came to possess a Pokémon language is something beyond me." It replied.

"What's a Pokémon?" I asked in confusion.

A pause.

"Before I answer your question, can you answer mine?" It requested, taking me aback. This was just a machine… Right?

"Sure." I replied unsurely.

"How many years has it been since my placement on the peak of Mount Silver?" The voice inquired.

Mount Silver? I figured it was referring to Mount Everest.

I shrugged.

No sense in lying, or sugarcoating things.

"The man who found the black box wrote in his journal that it predates all known civilization— and he found the box over a thousand years ago." I broke it to the machine, which beeped furiously for a few seconds, before returning to normal.

"Thousands of years— my family, my world… Gone?" The hiss seemed almost mournful.

"You're a person!?" I blurted out in English.

"I do not understand what you said. Is that your native tongue?" The machine asked.

I took a moment, my mind still reeling.

"Yes, and I asked if you were a person." I hissed back.

"I am, of sorts. My name is Red— yes, the color. I volunteered to have my consciousness copied and encased in the box so that I may aid any survivors." It explained, then continued before I could ask questions. "There was a cataclysm. By the time we heard tell of it, there was nothing else to do but send the box up Mount Silver, as well as other boxes in different locations across the globe before attempting to stop the inevitable. We must have succeeded, but at the cost of our civilization…"

I felt bad.

"I'm sorry, Red." I offered, not really knowing what to say. What could anyone say to someone who was all alone? I've been alone for most of my life, and even I didn't know. The harsh words I would tell myself to get through my own tribulations, I would never repeat to someone else.

A long moment passed.

"You asked what a Pokémon is, correct?" The machine— Red, I corrected myself— changed the subject.

"Yes, I've no idea what that word means." I replied, allowing him the change.

"Pokémon are creatures of the wild, imbued with the power to control the elements such as fire or water. A good example of them would be little Charmander, here." The screen displayed a perfect likeness of the dinosaur which had been patiently listening to us talk, this whole time.

"You're a Charmander?" I looked down at the creature in question. It nodded excitedly and made its cute cry, once more. It understood me better, this time; though, it could not talk back.

So, it understands Parseltongue, but does not speak it.

I turned back to the machine.

"The in-built Pokédex— an encyclopedia for all living Pokémon, basically— displays any pertinent information about the Pokémon. Simply point the scanner at it, and it will give you your Pokémon's attributes." Red explained in a matter-of-fact done, like he'd done this before, many times.

I did as ordered.

The same beam of light went over Charmander, before going back into the Pokédex.

"Charmander: the Lizard Pokémon." I read slowly. "Type: Fire. Sex: Male. Native to the Kanto region, Charmander is an orange, bipedal reptile. Since its birth, a fire burns at the tip of this Pokémon's slender tail. The flame is an indication of Charmander's health and mood, burning brightly when the Pokémon is strong, weakly when it's exhausted, wavering when it's happy, and blazing when it's enraged. It is said that, if its flame goes out, Charmander dies.

This Charmander's Ability is Blaze, which powers up its Fire-type moves when in extreme danger.

This Charmander knows the moves: Scratch, Growl, Ember and Smokescreen."I read. It all seemed self-explanatory. I had no idea what the Kanto region was. It sounded Japanese, though.

Something to consider.

"Moves?" I questioned, looking down at the Charmander.

"Yes, in my time, Pokémon were caught using Pokéballs—" So that's what the balls were. "— and used to battle each other. Some were kept as pets. Others aided in agriculture, farming, power generation, construction, you name it. Pokémon were our companions, our partners in every facet of life." Red certainly sounded passionate.

"Simply tell your Pokémon the move name, and they'll use it." Red explained.

"Hm." I ran my hand through my hair, before looking down at the Charmander.

"Ember." I pointed at the wall.

The Charmander gave its cute cry and swiped its tail towards the wall, sending a ball of red-hot flame into it. The fire impacted with a thud against the wall, leaving a large scorch mark.

"Wicked." I grinned down at the little guy and pet his head. He jumped around excitedly. "We'll have to see what you can do more thoroughly, later."

I grabbed another ball— the one with the water symbol— and released the creature within. It was an upright, blue turtle, looking around curiously with its purple eyes. Its long tail curled and uncurled as it took notice of me and padded over curiously.

I pointed the Pokédex at it as it greeted Charmander.

"Squirtle: the Tiny Turtle Pokémon." The screen displayed. "Type: Water. Sex: Male. Native to the Kanto region, Squirtle is a bipedal blue turtle— though some are sometimes seen walking on all fours. After birth, its back swells and hardens into a shell. The shell's rounded shape and the grooves on its surface help minimize resistance in water, enabling this Pokémon to swim at high speeds. It sprays foam powerfully from its mouth. When in danger, Squirtle withdraws into its resilient shell before striking back with vigorous force.

This Squirtle's Ability is Rain Dish, which allows it to recover at an accelerated rate when in a body of water.

This Squirtle knows the moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, Water Gun and Withdraw."

Interesting.

"Hey little guy." I knelt in front of the Squirtle, who rewarded me with a friendly head-butt. "Mind showing me your Water Gun?"

It nodded, and spat a narrow, but very powerful stream of water, cutting into the rock wall.

Woah! I had thought this would be like the water conjuring spell, but it actually did some damage.

No matter. With a wave of my wand and a muttered "Reparo", the wall was back to normal. After my little display, the Pokédex beeped furiously.

"Scanning." Red said. "You possess a Pokémon's Aura? Incredible."

"Do you mean my magic?" I asked curiously. "It was just a spell. Plenty of people can do magic."

"I see." Red's voice replied, sounding wistful. "Perhaps there is a remnant of my old world, after all. Your people, what types of moves can they do?"

"Pretty much most of what we can imagine." I brandished my wand and levitated a nearby book, before setting it down and transforming it into a rabbit.

"Incredible." Red repeated as the machine scanned the rabbit. "It scans like a living being. What else can you do?"

I showed him the fire-making, water-making, and wind-making spells.

"Your Aura shifts to each individual move type as you.. Cast your spell?" Red sounded awed while he attempted to use my vernacular. "And you say an entire sect of humans can do this?"

"I take it people couldn't do something like this in your time?" I hissed wryly.

"There were a few who trained alongside their Pokémon." Red disagreed. "They eventually gained traits common to the type they practiced with the most. I battled a woman named Sabrina, in the past. Her specialty was the Psychic-type, and she, herself, was an extremely powerful Psychic, on par with her strongest Pokémon— an Alakazam." It displayed a picture of a yellow humanoid creature holding two spoons, with a long, but thin snout and a large mustache.

"Another one trained with Fighting-types for so long, he could hurl heavy boulders with ease. There was also an old, creepy crone who controlled ghost-types. I could go on, but you get the idea." Red finished.

"I do." I tried to imagine what such people would be like. I shook the thoughts off after a few moments.

"I myself was capable of bonding with my Pokémon so strongly that I did not require to speak for them to understand my commands." Red decided to add. "Unfortunately, I became a quiet person over the years, as speaking was not wholly necessary in my travels."

I opened my mouth to comment on that, but was interrupted by the sound of my two newest friends entering a scuffle.

"Hey!" I called out sternly, before switching back to Parseltongue. "None of that."

The guilty look on their faces almost made me take back my words.

They were so cute!

"I would like to learn your native tongue, if time allows." Red requested. "For now, there is another Pokéball left."

"Right." I hissed and went for the last ball. What came out of it was stranger than the two before it. It was a quadruped, blue-green plantlike Pokémon with a closed bulb on its back and red eyes staring curiously at its surroundings. It saw me and gave a dinosaur-like cry.

I walked to it and was surprised when it extended a vine from the base of its bulb and shook my hand.

"Bulbasaur: the Seed Pokémon." The Pokédex displayed. "Type: Grass/Poison. Sex: Female. Native to the Kanto region, Bulbasaur is a small, quadruped Pokémon that has blue-green skin with darker green patches. It has red eyes with white pupils and sclera. It also has pointed, ear-like structures on top of its head. Each of its thick legs ends with three sharp claws. On its back is a green plant bulb, which provides it with energy through photosynthesis.

This Bulbasaur's Ability is Chlorophyll, which allow it to move faster when exposed to harsh sunlight.

This Bulbasaur knows the moves: Tackle, Growl, Leech Seed, and Vine Whip."

"You think you can show me your Vine Whip?" I hissed, pointing at the wall. It nodded and obeyed, sending its vine flying through the air and smashing the rock with extreme force, leaving a small crater in its wake.

Holy shit. Every single one of these creatures was dangerous. According to Red, the old world was full of them. Also, according to Red, the majority of the people were as vulnerable as muggles. How did they ever manage to tame and befriend them?

Then again, these Pokémon didn't seem all that dangerous, I thought as I watched the three get acquainted with each other. They were pretty cute, come to think of it.

Cute, little monsters that could destroy anything they touched, if they wished it. I gazed at the rest of the room— a treasure trove of books and rubies— and felt tiredness creeping over me. Suddenly dizzy, I plopped myself down on the chair.

The three creatures seemed alarmed by my sudden lethargy and malaise, but I paid them no mind as my mind was too busy trying to regroup.

I tried to keep up with all that just happened in the span of a few days.

Not even a week ago, I had planned on simply finding an out of the way classroom to practice spells and the like. Maybe I would have attended a Triwizard Task or two, to see what the fuss was about. I was honestly annoyed that Quidditch was canceled, but relieved at the same time; it would've allowed me more time to get stronger in my spellcasting, and had removed the stress of telling the team I wanted more time to train.

Being chosen as a Champion had thrown a wrench into my plans.

And now this… Discovering Slytherin's study, as well as a relic of a civilization so old they were almost completely forgotten?

Unbidden, I laughed; it was a sound that was familiar to me, but different than my usual laughter. This was not the joyous laughter after seeing something amazing, or a prank done by the Twins.

I had laughed like this before when I was younger; it was a demented laugh which sought to inject a modicum of cheer into a hopeless situation. Back then, it was one of my few defenses against the Dursleys' mistreatment. They took away my friends; they took away food, but they could never take away my spirit.

Faintly, I realized that tears were streaming down my face. The great Harry Potter had finally broken down, it seemed. What a joke!

If Malfoy could see me now, he'd never let me live it down.

"Are you all right?" Red asked when my laughter began to die down. I took a few seconds to compose myself, wiping the tears away.

Get a grip, Potter.

"I'm just overwhelmed by everything, that's all." I sighed wearily before looking at the worried Pokémon. "Only recently, I learned that I have to participate in an inter-school tournament against people three years my senior. Now, I discover an ancient room that only one person before me has been in, with its own share of secrets and creatures. You'll forgive me if I'm feeling a little upset!"

A moment of tense silence passed.

"I understand."

"How could you possibly?" I countered, heat seeping into my tone.

"I have held my own share of burdens, in the past." Red quietly replied, not taking the bait. Perhaps it was the fact he was a consciousness in a machine, or perhaps he was the sort of person that did not get roused easily. "I fought against a criminal organization which took Pokémon and cruelly twisted them into horrific, unnatural beasts consumed by hunger, pain and hatred. I had to grit my teeth and kill those once-innocent, if a little mischievous, creatures. Such an undertaking stains the soul, no matter how noble the cause is."

I had a feeling that a lot was left out of that story. It reminded me of how I downplayed the danger and importance of my own stories.

"Oh." I replied, chastened. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply—"

"It's fine." Red replied quietly. "Your new partners are starting to look worried, though."

I turned my eye to the three hesitant creatures. Pokémon, I reminded myself, again.

The Charmander padded over to me and tugged at my robe, catching my attention.

"What is it, little guy?" I asked.

He held out his hand in reply. I stared at it for a few moments, trying to understand what he was saying. When Charmander impatiently waved his hand at me, I relented and placed my hand against his. He stared into my eyes for a second, before gesturing for the other two Pokémon to come.

Squirtle happily waddled over and added its own hand to ours.

Bulbasaur hesitated for a second, before sending a vine to wrap around our hands.

I gazed at all three Pokémon. They stared back, fire burning in their eyes; a determination that I had felt a few times in the past. I felt a bond form at that moment, a bond which surpassed anything I had felt before.

I grinned.

"It looks like you've become friends." Red sounded wistful and happy at the turn of events. "I can tell you're going to be a marvelous Trainer. Pokémon are known to be excellent judges of character. The fact that three Pokémon of different typing accepted you almost instantly tells me everything I need to know."

"Thank you." I said sincerely, filing away the word "Trainer" for later, and keeping my hand locked with my three new friends. "Would any of you like a name?"

The three Pokémon extricated themselves from our team handshake, and shrugged uncaringly.

"That's fine." I said, getting up and taking a breath.

I waved my wand at the rabbit, turning it back into the book I had transfigured before, before placing it back in its bookcase. I grabbed one of the Pokéballs and stared at it for a second.

"What do I do with these balls?" I asked curiously.

"If you point it at the Pokémon, it will return it back inside." Red explained. "Don't worry; I have it on very good authority that the inside is quite comfortable. I helped in the design, and that included being in one. It wasn't so bad, kind of like falling into a deep sleep, being vaguely aware of everything around me. It was theorized that we could slow the aging process through sleeping in Pokéballs, but we scrapped the idea before anyone could hear of it. Some ideas shouldn't be shared."

I nodded, in amusement, before pointing it at Charmander.

A beam of white light shot towards him, sucking him back into his Pokéball. I repeated the same process with the other two.

"So, I just put them in my pocket— Pokémon, pocket monsters, huh?" I shook my head. That should have been obvious.

"Yes." Red seemed faintly amused. "Though, there should be a compartment underneath the one holding the Pokéballs. In it, there should be a belt— my old starter belt, actually."

"..You don't think it would be completely worn out by now?" I asked hesitantly.

"No, it's made from the same substance as the container." Red explained. "The box itself was in stasis, and the gear was made to last. Anything short of extreme damage leaves it untouched."

I nodded, and moved back to the black box. Searching around for grooves for a better hold, I managed to lift the section, revealing the compartment beneath. I stared down at the contents.

There was the aforementioned belt, an empty backpack, a red and white vest, complete with a similarly colored hat and blue jeans, and a laminated piece of plastic. Squinting at it, I grabbed the card and turned it over, reading its contents.

"Pokémon Trainer Red.

Class: Champion of Kanto/Johto regions." I read.

The card showed an identification number, hometown, age, weight, as well as a photo of the person in question. It was a man in his mid-twenties, wearing the same clothes neatly placed in the container, with red eyes and black hair.

His face was set in an attempted smile which looked more like an amused smirk. Underneath his name, there were no less than sixteen different symbols.

"Is this you?" I asked curiously.

"Yes." Red replied, sounding confused.

"What about this stuff? Are they yours?" I added while showing him the various effects left in the container.

"This is all mine, yes. Who would've— never mind. It must have been my mother." Red's reply had a touch of fondness to it. "Only she would've packed my clothes, gear and Trainer ID into a doomsday box. Likely, she thought we would have survived the cataclysm."

That took a dark turn.

"Well, I'll be taking the belt. I don't think these clothes would fit me, and even if they did, it's probably not my style." I tried to put some levity in the situation.

It seemed to work.

"Heh. I would have been offended if you tried." Red replied as I tied the black belt snugly around my waist. "My style is my own. Anyway, all you have to do is place the Pokéballs on the belt. They'll attach themselves automatically. Be sure to remember which Pokéball has which Pokémon. We labeled them to make it easier for whoever found this box, but it's probably best to learn which is which through muscle memory."

I nodded in understanding, before doing as he said and pulling my robe on, hiding the Pokéballs from view.

"So, what now?" I asked.

"All that's left is teaching you how to raise a Pokémon. Other than that, it's up to you." Red replied. "While you were getting acquainted with your partners, I took the time to scan the contents of the journal, and it said there was another place which had a mention of my past civilization. I can only request that you find this place. I will not force you— your life is your own, after all. Not that I could force you, in the first place…"

"I'll do it." I promised without thinking, feeling sorry for what was basically the remnant of a long-dead, great man. "But, it might take a long time. Right now, I'm more worried about surviving this year."

There was a long moment.

"Let me guess, this tournament you've been dragged into against your will is of the life threatening variety, and you have to participate; or there will be terrible consequences." Red sounded almost exasperated, and a touch bitter, reflecting my own feelings on the matter.

"How did you—" I started, before realizing Red had most likely gone through similar things. He'd said he fought against a criminal organization.

"I don't usually believe in fate, but what are the odds that…" Red trailed off. "Tell me everything."

So, I did.