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Elemental Trinity

A Harry Potter/Pokémon Crossover

By Zero Rewind

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Nov. 22, 1994

"Tackle!" I ordered Squirtle as he plowed into an acromantula, sending it flying into a tree. On instinct, he withdrew into its shell as another acromantula fell from the tree, venom-tipped fangs scraping from his resilient shell.

"Charmander, use Ember on the ones trying to overwhelm Squirtle." I said as another two giant spiders attempted to swarm Squirtle. "Bulbasaur, be ready with Vine Whip."

"Accio!" With a wave of my wand, one of the spiders came flying toward us.

A medium-sized fireball flew past it, tearing into another one of the spiders, making it shriek and run away. The one I'd summoned found itself smashed into the dirt courtesy of a downward swing of Bulbasaur's vines. Another vine slammed into it, and another, until it stopped moving.

"Water Gun!" Squirtle obeyed instantly, spitting out a pressurized stream of water into its attacking acromantula's face, digging slightly into its skull, but not quick enough to stop it from turning tail and running.

From the side, more of them came.

"Diffindo!" The curse cut into the foremost acromantula, halting its charge and forcing the one behind it to crawl over its body.

"Ember." I said simply, preparing to use another spell.

Charmander gave a cry as he flicked his tail and sent a fireball in their direction.

"Ventus!" The wind-making spell joined up with Charmander's Ember, feeding the flame and quadrupling it in size, overtaking the five remaining acromantulas, leaving nothing behind but the spiders' burned corpses.

Without a word, Squirtle began to put out the flames so that we didn't end up surrounded by fire. When that was done, he waddled back over to me.

A few seconds passed as we all regrouped and took a breath.

"Well done, guys." I sat down on a nearby rock, feeling tired. My Pokémon also seemed a bit weary. Grabbing Red's backpack— I had taken to using it, at the older man's urging— I pulled out a pack of blueberries and gave each of my Pokémon a handful, which they consumed almost instantly.

Apparently they were called Oran Berries way back when, and possessed minor healing properties if consumed by Pokémon.

Charmander tugged at my robe, indicating that he wanted some more.

I rolled my eyes and gave all three of them some more berries to munch on. "Just make sure not to over-eat. We're still pretty deep in the Forbidden Forest."

I wanted to curse Hagrid for convincing me to do this.

"Tch. 'It's a good test', he said. 'Just a few acromantulas', he said." I grumbled as I ran my wand over my partners, muttering "Episkey" on each one as they ate, healing whatever minor scrapes, cuts and bruises they had acquired over the course of the past few hours.

Each gave annoyed twitches at the unexpected sting the spell came with— I wasn't very good at the anesthetic aspect of this particular branch of magic.

"It is a good test." Red piped up from my pocket. "Reminds me of the good old days, when I was dealing with swarms of Beedrill in Viridian Forest! Besides, the scans I've taken today have been quite enlightening. Did you know these 'Acromantula' are a Bug/Poison type? They are quite reminiscent of the Spinarak evolution line— though without the flamboyant coloring, and with two more legs."

I stifled another eye roll.

Red was really getting into things— this was his element, no question about it.

"Of course you would enjoy this." I grumbled without any heat in my voice. "Glutton for punishment, you are. I suppose you also had great fun when Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia tried to kill us a few hours ago."

That car had come out of nowhere, blasting through a swarm of acromantula before making attempts to run us over. When we proved to have more situational awareness than the average spider, it gave up and went back to massacring its mortal enemy.

"…To be fair, I did not expect an automobile to come out of a magical forest." Red still sounded happy. "You know you're enjoying this as much as I am. No need to pretend otherwise."

I sighed.

He was right, of course, but I still found it weird how Red could just casually put himself in danger and expect to be unscathed.

"Years of practice, Harry." Red seemed to understand what I was thinking. "After fighting off thousands upon thousands of Pokémon, the whole 'I'm in mortal danger, I should probably run' aspect of it all turns into a dull noise."

"I suppose so." I said noncommittally and popped a few blueberries in my mouth.

"Oh, don't try and act like you don't know what I mean." Red chided good naturedly. "You've pulled as many death defying stunts as I did when I was your age."

"True." I said, eating a few more berries. Then, more somberly, "You think I'm ready?"

"As ready as you'll ever be." Red said confidently.

"Go over it with me, again?" I continued, still feeling uncertain.

"You sure you want to do this in the middle of the Forest?" Red seemed almost amused. "I suppose it is time to make our way back to Hagrid's hut. We've been here for hours, and I'm sure Hagrid is getting worried. We'll go over it again when we get to his hut."

Red's meeting with Hagrid had been conveniently easy. At first, he'd obviously been suspicious of Red, not trusting that a voice speaking out of a small box was anything good. A lifetime in the Wizarding world had taught him that something like that generally ended in tragedy.

Riddle's diary was a good example of this. It, too, was a set of memories preserved within a medium— just like Red.

Of course, after telling him that he came out of the same box as the three Pokémon he doted over, Hagrid ended up changing his mind quickly, and swore not to tell anyone about Red, or my Pokémon.

"No pressure. People will find out about them, anyway. I plan on using them in the Tournament." I had replied back then. "If anyone asks, just say they're created out of my magic. It should circumvent the whole 'illegal' aspect of it all. I'm supposed to be the 'Legendary Boy-Who-Lived', right? I might as well have something to my name."

Back to the matter at hand…

I nodded at Red's words and got ready to go. A few minutes of checks, and a few more "Episkey" later, we made our way through the Forest, fighting a few stray acromantula here and there. The smaller creatures, such as rabbits, foxes and the like, skittered away as soon as we came within sight.

The sun had begun to set as I came out of the Forbidden Forest's treeline.

"Harry!" I heard Hagrid's booming voice as he came into view.

"Hagrid." I greeted him as he checked me over for any injuries, before doing the same to my Pokémon.

"Was getting' a little worried, there. Yeh all look all righ' ter me." He nodded, pleased.

"Yes." I replied, sagging a bit as I spoke. "More tired than anything, but it was pretty good battle experience."

"Told yeh." Hagrid beamed. "I remember training up Fluffy in these woods; good times. Aragog didn't quite like it, though."

I tried to fathom how Hagrid didn't manage to get himself eaten by the monstrous Cerberus, and I tried to imagine a battle between Fluffy and Aragog, before giving up and going inside his house to sit down and relax, my three partners following me.

Instantly, the smell of beef and spices hit my nose, causing my mouth to water and my stomach to gurgle ever so slightly in anticipation.

Charmander sat on the fireproof sheet I'd enchanted a week before— he'd accidentally set fire to Hagrid's home and it was a major pain trying to put it out— and immediately went to sleep. Both Squirtle and Bulbasaur elected to hop onto my huge seat and cuddle up to me as Hagrid entered his home.

"I made beef stew while yeh were adventurin'— trainin', I mean." He corrected when I gave him a mock-glare, the shadows in his hut hiding the knowing smirk on his face. "Hungry?"

"Definitely." I replied, swallowing quickly. "All I've had to eat were blueberries over the last few hours. Any more of them and I'll be sick."

The giant of a man went over to the pot, scooping up some stew and pouring it into one of his bowls, before handing it to me.

"Thank you." I said gratefully and began to dig in.

I stopped, after a few moments. "You're not going to have any?"

"Ate earlier." Hagrid shrugged, before taking a seat of his own. "Think yer ready?"

"As ready as he'll ever be." Red said while I was busy eating. "But he keeps insisting we go over the plan again, and again."

I swallowed. "I'll be going toe to toe against a dragon, Red. There's no guarantee that any of our tactics will work."

"Red's right." Hagrid disagreed with me. "I doubt the task will be fightin' a dragon to the death. Not even Perfessor Dumbledore could do it— well, maybe."

"Yes, but that's Dumbledore we're talking about." I said with a grimace, putting the half eaten bowl of stew back on the table. Suddenly, I didn't feel so hungry. "The man could find a hundred different ways of beating the dragon."

"Listen." Red said exasperatedly before Hagrid could try and cheer me up. "I'm sure you won't be expected to go toe to toe against it, so our previously discussed diversionary tactics should be the ones you use."

"He's right." Hagrid confirmed, more gently than Red. "Think of it like my dear Fluffy. With a bit o' music, he falls right ter sleep. Yer won't be expected to kill a dragon, Harry."

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "You're right. I know that, in my mind. But…"

A few seconds of tense silence passed

"It's understandable." Red said, and Hagrid nodded in agreement. "The odds are against you, but our training has given you the tools you'll need to be victorious at the end."

"I believe in yeh, too, Harry." Hagrid said proudly, putting a meaty hand on my shoulder. I struggled not to fall off the chair onto the floor. "Yeh beat a basilisk in yer second year with nothin' but a sword. Yeh can do this, now."

Tension eased out of my body even before Hagrid had removed his hand.

I nodded. "I won't let you guys down."

"Dun think yeh could!" Hagrid laughed at the very thought, before giving me my stew back. "Go on then, before it gets cold."

I went back to eating, talking with Red, Hagrid and my Pokémon for the rest of the evening, reaching well into the night. We had both lost track of time, until I remembered what I was supposed to be doing that night.

Sirius had told me to meet him in the Gryffindor Common Room at midnight.

Once again thanking him for all the help he'd given me over the last few weeks leading up to the first task, I bid my goodbyes to Hagrid, returned my Pokémon and hurried back to the castle, almost tripping over myself as I threw caution to the wind and began to sprint.

Turning a corner, I ended up slamming into something— hard.

"Oof!" I fell back, the impact on my shoulder jarring. I had hit something, hard. Blinking away the slight dizzy spell coming over me, I saw the person who I had tackled into.

A Slytherin girl; she looked a little familiar, but I couldn't quite place her name. The stack of books she was carrying had fallen everywhere— likely what I had slammed into. Luckily, she wasn't hurt. I breathed a short sigh of relief as I quickly got back to my feet.

"Sorry about that." I said apologetically, moving to grab the books she dropped. "Wasn't watching where I was going."

"Clearly not." She huffed in understandable annoyance as she also got to her feet and dusted herself off, making me grab everything. I guess I had that one coming.

A few seconds later, and all the books were stacked once more. I caught a few of the titles and recognized them as Fifth Year material.

Interesting, she was a Fourth Year like I was, but already that far ahead?

I made no mention of it and handed her the books back, taking a quick moment to really look at her. She was a slender, with hair the color of dark honey, eyes as blue as the sky and high cheekbones. She easily rivaled the Veela I had seen at the Quidditch World Cup.

I shook my head and bid her a good night, before making my way past her and resuming my previous course.

She did not reply.

Wait.

What was she doing hauling books around in the middle of the night?

I shook any more thoughts of the beautiful blonde and replaced them with those of my Godfather. I was so excited to speak to him again; he might even have some advice, for me.

Whispering the password to the Gryffindor Tower's entrance so as not to wake the Fat Lady, I quietly made my way inside, reaching the common room in a few seconds. The place had been cleared for the night.

Unsurprising, it was a Tuesday night, after all.

A quick check of the clock showed it to be five minutes to midnight. I looked around curiously. Was he coming through the entrance, like before? Last year he'd snuck into my dorm room and tried to stab Scabbers the Traitorous Rat of Doom. Was this more of the same?

I took a seat by the fire and waited, wondering how the man was doing. Was he eating well? Did he even get the luxury of rest? I hoped so.

"Harry!" I heard a whisper, and looked around, before focusing on something a bit odd. A head in the fire—

"Sirius!" I stood abruptly and moved closer to the fire.

"Hey, kid." He greeted smiling. "Sorry it took so long, but I wanted to speak to you in a way that didn't involve letters."

"It's fine, Sirius. You don't exactly have any regular access to— well, anything, really. Actually, how are you even—"

"I broke into someone else's home to use this." He admitted. "So we probably don't have much time. Do you know who might've put your name in the Goblet?"

I stifled a smile, happy Sirius trusted me enough not to ask if I put my own name in the Goblet. "I've got no clue. Moody said that someone might be hoping I get killed in the tasks."

"Yes, the tournament's sordid history— my father enjoyed bragging about one of our ancestors winning the thing, centuries back. Load of shite, I thought it was. Course, telling him that probably wasn't a good idea…" Sirius mused.

"Still." Sirius focused back on the issue at hand. "You'll need to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. Maybe get your friends to do it quietly."

I snorted. "Ron thinks I want the glory all for myself and Hermione's upset at me skipping my classes to try and prepare for the task. No luck there. They basically abandoned me. I have to fight or get past a dragon for my first task, and they won't even talk to me."

"They what?" Sirius' voice raised for a few seconds before cringing and his head exited the flames for a few moments. Did he have to leave?

A few seconds later, he was back. "Sorry, I thought that outburst might have woken someone up. We're still good." A moment passed. "Hermione had seemed so dependable, too. Then again, your mother had similar adherence to authority issues when she was that age, too."

I gave Sirius a queer look.

"That's the first negative thing I've heard anyone say about my mum." I pointed out, not sure whether to feel relieved or offended anyone dared to say anything disparaging about my mum.

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to deal with her while she was pregnant with you. James seemed on edge all the time, and the few times I came to visit… Let's say they were unpleasant and leave it at that." Sirius shuddered. "Is there anyone you might be able to rely on?"

"Hagrid has been helping, a lot. Plus, I've been trying to master all the basic combat spells. I read that it's better to have a short list of spells I'm really good at, rather than a thousand useless ones." I said, and considered his question again.

"Neville, Neville Longbottom, maybe." I offered after a moment. "He said he believed me, but he's not the confrontational type."

"Longbottom, eh?" Sirius gave a slight smile. "Knew his parents; they weren't afraid to hex us after we did our pranks on them. Shame what happened to them."

"Listen, I think I woke someone up." Sirius said hurriedly before I could say anything. "Forgive the two morons if they deserve it, but you should look out for yourself. We know what happens when you trust the wrong person. I have to go. I'll owl you soon."

"Good night, Sirius." I said, but he was already gone.

I sank deeply into the couch, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with me. I let out a long suffering sigh, before making my way to the dorms.

Giving Ron a quick glance, I moved past him and got into my pajamas, placing the Pokéball belt on the side, wedged between the trunk and the bed. If anyone tried to grab it, I would instantly know.

"Couldn't sleep?" Neville's voice startled me. I swiveled to see the boy sitting at the edge of his bed, staring at me. A few more looks showed that Seamus and Dean's beds weren't occupied— though it had looked that way at first glance. It was the old 'pillow under the covers' trick.

Night time adventures, I supposed.

"Something like that." I admitted, taking a seat on my own bed. "Too busy worrying and preparing."

I took another look at Neville, remembering Sirius' words about his parents. Hermione had already told me about what happened to them, earlier that year. Privately, I thought he was worse off than I was.

Always having to see his parents in such a weakened state, and a grandmother so overbearing that she might have been his second choice for a boggart; it said a lot about the boy's home life. Hadn't he said something about his great uncle throwing him from the second storey to force him to use magic?

On the other hand, I was overworked, undernourished, and mostly ignored— if treated with disrespect. No one had actually tried to kill me. Not even Harry Hunting got that dangerous; plus, by the time they'd grown old enough for their punches and kicks to do lasting damage, I was already quick enough on my feet to avoid them.

"I can imagine." He said sympathetically. "What do you think the first task will be?"

Dragons, I wanted to say.

"I have no idea." I lied, instead. "They said something about facing the unknown and showing great daring in the face of danger, so it should be something frightening."

"Well, if it's a basilisk, you shouldn't have much trouble." Neville gave a hesitant smile.

I grinned back. "One can only hope it'd be that easy."

Ron gave a loud snore, getting my attention for a moment. I stared at him for a second, before huffing and turning back to Neville.

"He'll come around." Neville assured me. "He'd have to be daft to actually believe that you put your name in."

I frowned and looked off to the left, outside of the window showing the castle grounds. "I don't think I want to forgive him."

"I understand why he's jealous." I said, forestalling whatever Neville had to say. "But I'd give anything for a family of my own, and he knows that. You understand, Neville. We're both the same."

Neville turned to look outside, as well. "Right."

He sounded strained.

I decided not to push the subject.

"Sorry." I apologized, feeling unsure about the whole conversation. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"S'all right." Neville shook it off. "You have a plan?"

"Yeah." I said, glad for the subject change. "I've gone through all the spells that might be useful to me, and last year's DADA course prepared us for most creatures. One more day of practice shouldn't make that much difference, so tomorrow I'm going to relax. It'd be dumb to go in the task feeling drained or stressed."

"Well." I said after a second's consideration. "More stressed than normal, I think."

"You can do it, Harry." Neville said encouragingly. "You've done it before."

I smiled at his unwavering view of me. "Thanks, Neville."

"You're welcome." He said, before yawning. Giving me one last smile, he slid under his covers and began to close the curtains. "Good night, Harry."

"Night, Neville." I gave him a nod before looking outside of the window, thoughts racing. How old would the dragon be? Was I supposed to take something it had? Or simply make my way past it to a finish line? Or did I actually have to fight one?

With the Ministry, there was no telling. These were the same people who'd put Sirius in Azkaban without a trial, the same people who'd snapped Hagrid's wand and then had him arrested fifty years later for a crime he did not commit.

These were the same people who thought dementors would make great truancy officers. Skip class and lose your soul!

I stifled a laugh.

"Get some rest." Red's voice came, barely a whisper. "It's been half an hour."

I blinked, not realizing any time had passed. "It felt like a second." I murmured and crawled into bed, closing my eyes, my sheer exhaustion allowing me to fall into a quick, deep slumber.

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I woke up hours later, feeling sore, but quite refreshed. I drifted in the haze between sleep and wakefulness for a while before finally making the choice to get up.

A few yawns and stretches later, I put my clothes on, including my trusty new belt. It was a daily routine which I had grown used to, of late. I couldn't even imagine not having my Pokémon, now. They had been my stalwart companions from the beginning of this fiasco, and we'd grown a lot together over the time we've shared.

Those tests in the Forbidden Forest had only cemented our already strong bond.

"Morning." Red quietly greeted as I walked past the sleeping forms of Ron, Seamus and Dean, and headed towards the Great Hall for some breakfast.

"Morning to you, too." I said just as quietly, brushing past a few Sixth Years who gave me a dirty look. Not that I particularly cared anymore. Knowing my true friends were with me had reinvigorated my confidence and self-esteem. Their looks had gone from awfully hurtful to barely annoying because of it.

"So, an off day, eh?" Red asked unnecessarily while I walked through the hallways.

I passed by a few more glaring Hufflepuffs and took a turn into an empty hallway. "That's the plan. Though, knowing my luck, I'd probably have yet another life threatening experience."

"Such is life." I knew Red long enough, now, that I could tell he was probably smiling. "How would it be fun without a few interesting road blocks to overcome?"

"Only you would name having a life and death situation 'interesting road blocks'." I rolled my eyes.

"As the Champion of the Kanto/Johto League, I was—" He stopped himself for a moment, waiting for a few curious Firsties to get the hell out of the way. "I was quite well acquainted with danger. In fact, you could even say that my danger level was… In the Red."

"Oh for fuck's sake." I groaned. "It's too early in the day for your stupid puns, Red."

"I'll have you know that, I was also the Champion of Puns, or Champun for short." Red boasted. "I didn't work hard all these years to just be called Red. I will be addressed as Champun Red. Or Champun Champion Red. That sounds better."

"Seriously?" I asked incredulously. I knew that being famous brought out the nutcases, but this was taking it to another level.

"Nope." Red denied, sounding even more amused. "I can't believe you fell for that one."

"Too early for this shit." I repeated.

"Well, it's certainly not early on the other side of the planet." Red quipped.

I huffed and decided not to rise to the bait. A few more minutes of companionable silence were broken by the hustle and bustle of the early morning crowd at the Great Hall. A few of the professors were already seated, including Severus Snape, who directed one of his patented sneers in my direction.

I sent him an amused look, in return. Likely, he had bitched about my automatic passing of his course thanks to the Goblet's choice of me. That was probably the only benefit that accursed artifact had caused. Anything else was a major pain.

I found Neville on the Gryffindor table and sat next to him.

I piled some food on my plate, and dug in.

"You look a lot better than last night." Neville commented. "Good rest?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." I replied.

After spending day after day training both myself and my Pokémon physically, I figured I deserved a break. Besides, it was the day before I'd come to face with one of the strongest creatures known to wizardkind.

It made sense that I'd enjoy my last day as much as I could.

Just in case it was my last.

Staring at my schedule, I realized I had Transfiguration and Charms that day. "Going straight to class, after?"

"Yeah." Neville confirmed. "Coming?"

"I might as well." I had skived off the last two Transfiguration classes to focus on the final stages of my preparation for the first task. "Old McGonagall will be miffed with me, I'm sure."

Neville winced. "She certainly looked displeased the last few classes, but didn't make mention of it."

With a sigh, I continued to eat, hoping her reaction wasn't too bad. Part of me wanted to just not go; I was already ahead of the course syllabus. But I had already resolved myself into going through with it. My reasoning was that it would take my mind off the task, even for a little bit.

It was worth a try.

I heard the familiar bickering of my two former friends out at the entrance and stifled a groan. I didn't really want to talk to either of them. I finished off the last of my sausage and eggs before getting up and shouldering Red's— my— backpack.

"I'll see you in class, Neville." I said and got a nod in return.

"Harry." Hermione's voice came from my right. I paid it no mind and walked right past her; I didn't care if it upset her. There was a day left before I had to face my probable doom, and she'd been too busy chastising me for skipping class.

I walked, and kept walking until I was alone in one of the corridors, faintly realizing that my face felt tight; my frown, pronounced.

I took a deep breath and schooled my expression into one that reflected the emptiness I had been so familiar with growing up. It was a little amusing, really. I always kept coming back to this feeling. Was I destined to be alone?

My fingers brushed against my Pokéballs for a moment. I smiled slightly and opened my eyes again, breaking the stoic look, before resuming my path to the Transfiguration classroom.

Even if everyone ended up abandoning me, I would always have my partners.

I noticed a few Slytherins waiting near the entrance of the classroom. A faint noise from inside told me the previous class wasn't over yet. I had come too early.

Shrugging to myself, I put my backpack down and pulled my robe off, sitting on the stone floor and leaning my back against the wall.

I glanced a few times at the two Slytherin girls who were engaged in quiet conversation, noting with slight surprise that one of them was the girl I'd smashed into the night before. The other was an auburn haired girl who kept sneaking glances my way, thinking I wasn't noticing. She seemed to be doing it on the behalf of the blond, who had her back turned to me.

Ah, the wonders of glasses. People thought that my field of vision was limited to the glass panes, which allowed me to do some spying of my own. Granted, all I could see was a set of moving blurs, but I was good at determining where people were looking.

It helped with my early days in school before I had received my glasses. Skills like that were not just forgotten.

They were definitely talking about me.

I withheld a grimace; it was probably the usual disparaging remarks, fueled by last night's little accident.

Another quick look had shown that, yes, they were wearing those stupid badges Malfoy had given out.

I immediately lost what little interest I had in the two admittedly attractive girls, focusing on myself instead.

Was this really how I wanted to live the rest of my life? People whispering my name in awe one moment, and then trashing me in the next? I remembered Skeeter's article after I'd attended the Wand Weighing Ceremony.

She'd misspelled the other champions' names. Cedric wasn't even mentioned, there. It turned out to be a story about me, and how I cry about my parents' death all the time. Hell, she couldn't even get my age right!

I took a short, shuddering breath to calm my rising anger. I wasn't going to let myself get riled up in public, anymore.

So, what did I want out of life?

My mind focused on a letter I'd received the month before. Oliver Wood had been writing me of what the professional Quidditch life was like; Intense training, plenty of scrimmages and a fun time, overall. He genuinely sounded like he was enjoying himself, and promised to put in a good word for me if I ever decided to join him on the pro scene.

It was a significant gesture on his part.

He actually believed I could make it on the professional field.

"It would be challenging; it sure was for me." He had written. "But it's definitely worth it, Potter."

I'd seen Krum's moves at the World Cup, and those were nothing to sneeze at. For a moment, I wondered how well I could keep up with the older boy, before focusing back on the matter at hand.

What else was there?

Well, I was rich. I could simply coast off my family's wealth for the rest of my days, if I so wished it. It wasn't a half bad idea, all things considered. After getting Sirius exonerated, he and I could disappear off into the sunset, never to be heard from again, free to do as we please.

That's what I wanted; I realized suddenly. It was freedom: freedom from the Dursleys, freedom from the stares, freedom from other people's choices concerning my life, freedom from Voldemort and his band of sycophant murderers.

I blamed Red for that idea. Learning his life story had made a deep impact on me. Wandering the wilderness with nothing but your wits, a few handy supplies, and your best friends, exploring undiscovered areas and meeting interesting people…

It was marvelous.

"All right, Harry?" Neville's voice cut off my pleasant thoughts. I blinked and looked up. I'd lost track of my surroundings again. Thankfully, no one had tried to mess with me. A quick look around showed that Malfoy hadn't arrived yet.

He was the only one stupid enough to try anything.

The class was beginning to empty.

There were a few more Gryffindors waiting outside, including Ron and Hermione. Ron was too busy staring resolutely at the other side of the corridor, and Hermione kept sneaking me worried glances.

I got back to my feet and made my way into the class, choosing a seat in the back. I felt McGonagall's piercing gaze on my back, but didn't outwardly react, instead sitting down with very little fuss and looking straight back into her eyes.

She looked away.

How strange. I shrugged and got the necessary supplies out, ready for some exciting bit of note taking.

A few minutes passed as more and more students filtered inside, until the bell rang and McGonagall closed the door with a wave of her wand. A few seconds later, there was a knock.

With an annoyed huff, she opened it again, revealing Malfoy and his two stooges, looking disheveled.

"Five points from Slytherin for being late. I would suggest you quickly take your seat, Misters Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle." Minerva sternly rebuked and impatiently waited for them to sit down.

Giving them another stern gaze for good measure, Professor McGonagall began her latest lesson.

"Today we will be learning how to change a guinea fowl into a guinea pig." She informed us.

An hour of studious note taking later, she demonstrated the spell and had us attempting it. I watched as all of the other students around me attempted the transformation to no results. The only one that had managed anything was Hermione, and all she'd done was turn the feathers brown.

Hm, the girl I'd run into the night before had gotten a little further, giving it fur instead of feathers, and its head looked more like a guinea pig's, though it still had a beak.

I guessed she wasn't as farther ahead as I thought she was. I looked over my notes and remembered what I'd read from Salazar's book and Red's explanation on how Aura worked.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall's stern voice tore through my concentration as she made to stand beside me.

"Hm." I gave her a thoughtful look. "Could you demonstrate the spell for me again?"

"Certainly." With a rigid twist, she effortlessly turned it into a guinea pig and back again. I frowned; I definitely felt something, there.

"Your turn." She said, looking at me expectantly.

I took a breath, moving my wand in the same motion and speaking the same incantation. I focused on my intent to change it into a guinea pig, as well as the feeling her attempt had given off.

I stared.

A guinea pig stared back.

"Well done!" Professor McGonagall said, looking extremely surprised. She scrutinized the creature for a few moments, before looking at me with repressed astonishment. "A perfect transfiguration on the first try; very well done, Mr. Potter. I see now that you've not been idle in the time spent away from class."

I blushed at the unexpected praise and embarrassment. She just had to mention me skipping class, didn't she?

"That'll be thirty points for Gryffindor." McGonagall continued, before giving me another considering look. "Would you like to attempt turning it back?"

A nod. "I'll try."

Concentrating, I felt for the magic again and attempted the spell, changing the pig back into a fowl. I looked over it for a few moments; seemed all right.

"Take another fifteen points for Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. I will be expecting this level of dedication in all of my classes, from this point on." She said, her mouth thinning into the grimace-smile which told me she was undoubtedly pleased. Once she'd moved on to another student asking for help, I noticed the stares I was getting.

A few of the students looked incredulous at how easily I'd done it. Some were jealous I finished and technically was able to leave early, with no homework. Hermione looked a mix of happy, sad and envious, while Ron scoffed dismissively and went back to his own work.

"Psst! Potter!" Someone called from my side. I turned to see the friend of the girl I'd bumped into. Tracey Davis, I think her name was.

"Yes, Davis?" I replied, schooling my face into that of forced calm. What did she want?

"How'd you do it?" She asked curiously.

How odd; she sounded somewhat pleasant for a badge-wearing snake.

"It's pretty easy." I replied uncaringly, looking off to the side.

"Is it?" A hint of annoyance crept into her voice, but I paid it no mind. "Any useful advice?"

I turned to look back at her, blatantly eyeing the 'Potter Stinks' badge she proudly wore on her robe. "Not while you still wear that thing."

I went over to help Neville before she could say anything in response. I ignored the offended girl as best as I could, instead focusing on Neville's attempts at Transfiguration. I frowned as nothing happened, even after his fifth try.

"You're picturing it in your mind, right?" I repeated.

"Yes." Neville said, looking annoyed at his failure. "It's always like this, Harry. My spells never work."

That definitely wasn't it. He had the motions correct, and he had the incantation correct.

"Show me, again." I instructed and decided to feel for his magic, instead.

He repeated the wand motion and the incantation; nothing happened. The wand had warmed up in response to the boy's own Aura, but it had not gone further than that.

So, it was his wand?

"I have an idea, Neville." I said, presenting my own wand to him. "Try using mine."

"I-I don't know about this, Harry." Neville tried to push it back to me.

"Just to satisfy my curiosity; give it a shot." I said. "If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work."

Neville shrugged, before looking at his guinea fowl again.

"Picture it in your mind." I repeated. "And go through the motion."

Neville waved his wand. The bird's feathers switched into soft brown fur, and its wings shifted into paws, though it retained its beak.

"I did it." Neville said, sounding incredulous. "Well, I didn't do it, but I managed to change it a little!"

"Yeah." I agreed. "I told you that you had the right of it. Maybe your own wand broke at some point? It doesn't seem to be working for you."

Neville gave me an unreadable look, before handing me my wand back.

"It was my father's wand." He admitted, looking over his own wand. "Gran told me I was to use it, that it was an honor to do so."

"That's… unfair of her." I tried not to sound scathing. "Ollivander, the wand maker, said that a wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around."

"So, I'm not worthy?" Neville looked down at his wand like it betrayed him.

I winced. I had basically just told him he was unworthy of his parents, hadn't I?

The bell rang, interrupting our conversation.

"That'll be all for now. For those of you who didn't manage to complete the assignment, I expect ten inches on the intricacies of the transformation process between a guinea fowl and a guinea pig." McGonagall said as the students put their books back and began to file out. "Mr. Potter, a moment of your time."

"Yes, Professor." I said, grabbing Neville's arm before he could leave.

"Let go, Harry." Neville seemed to want to be anywhere but here.

"Neville, you know what you said isn't true. Just because your father's wand isn't a match for you doesn't mean that you're unworthy. Don't forget that your father's only half of you." I said anxiously. "Just… Just think about it, all right?"

"Fine." He said and brushed me off, following the rest of the students. I stifled a sigh and stood next to Professor McGonagall, waiting for the other students to vacate the premises.

"Problem with Mr. Longbottom? I noticed he had managed a partial transfiguration." McGonagall said.

"He had the wand motion and incantation correct, but nothing was happening. I figured if I lent him my wand, there would be a change; there was."

"You lent him your wand? For what reason?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"It was just a hunch." I said, shrugging and not knowing how to broach the subject of Aura with her.

"I wonder, Mr. Potter..." She said, before pulling out her wand and summoning the fowl I was working on, before Vanishing it with a mutter of "Evanesco". She hadn't even used a wand motion.

She summoned another and looked at me. "Your turn."

I gave her an incredulous look. "I don't think I can do that."

"Humor me, Mr. Potter." She replied.

I sighed and felt for the magic she'd used. It felt like the spell I had used before, but instead of turning something into something else, it took all of the energy and dispersed it harmlessly in all directions. Fascinating.

"Can you show me again?" I sounded interested. She frowned at me, as if noticing something for the first time, before nodding and repeating her feat. She summoned a third fowl and gave me an expectant look.

I closed my eyes for a moment, enveloping myself in the feeling of that unmaking spell, for what else would I call it? I pointed my wand at the fowl and concentrated, speaking the incantation.

It vanished.

"Incredible." McGonagall breathed. "You can feel the magic, can't you, Mr. Potter?"

"I…" I hesitated, not sure of how to broach the subject. "Yes. I only learned of it, recently. It wasn't covered in any of the books, so I hadn't actually thought of using it."

"Remarkable." She said. "That was an O.W.L. level spell, Mr. Potter, and you performed it flawlessly on your first try."

Was it? But it had felt so easy.

"I had considered the thought of you practicing the current class' spell beforehand, but this confirms it." McGonagall decided. "You're more like your father than you know, Mr. Potter."

I stared at her. That was certainly an odd thing to say. Still, I always liked to hear about my parents. "What do you mean? You knew my father well, Professor?"

"Indeed." She confirmed. "When he wasn't busy being idle with his friends, he studied under me to become a Master of Transfiguration. He began to show the same talent you do, at around the same age. I wonder…"

I didn't know what to tell her. My foray into the domain of Aura was because of the bond I had formed with my Pokémon, and not because of innate, inherited talent.

Then again, speaking of bonds… Perhaps the bond my father made with Sirius, Remus and Peter had served the same purpose? It was something to consider.

"But, that's enough for now." McGonagall said, bringing me back to the present. "Do try to attend your classes, Mr. Potter. It would be a shame to waste all of that talent."

"Assuming I don't die tomorrow." I said and ignored the glare she gave me at the poor attempt at a joke. "I'll do my best."

"Very well." She dismissed me as another class of students began to file in.

This 'day of relaxation' was proving to be very strange, I thought to myself as I walked obliviously past a fuming brunette and an intrigued blonde.