Missingno. Master
Poison-type Trainer
It's BAAA-AAACK! Last time I attempted this, it was closed for plagerism. But not this time!
Disclaimer; I neither own Pokemon nor Harry Potter. Believe me, if I did, Golduck would be able to learn Psychic through a TM, and Dumbledore would still be alive. The only thing I do own, though, is the term PokéMagus.
Chapter one- The Boy Who Lived
The Dursleys of Number Four, Privet Drive led as normal a life as possible. Vernon Dursley was a big beefy sort of man, who worked for Grunnings, a company that made drills. Petunia Dursley, Vernon's wife, was bony and thin. They had a chubby son named Dudley, and in their opinion there was no finer child in existence. But the Dursleys also had a secret, and their worst fear was that someone would discover it.
One fine morning, Vernon Dursley put on his most boring grey suit, slipped his two Pokeballs into his pocket, and walked out of the door, towards his car. Then, he noticed sitting atop the fence, a Delcatty. It was as stiff as a statue. Heeding it no notice, as Delcatty rarely stay in one place for too long, Vernon got into his car and drove to work. For the next few hours, Vernon took phone calls, did paperwork, and shouted at several people for various reasons. After a particularly long and boring phone call, Vernon glanced out the window, and saw flocks of Hoothoot and Noctowl swooping and soaring and flying all across the sky.This perplexed Vernon, as they rarely were seen in their town of Little Whinging, even at night. He then got another phone call, and didn't think about the Hoothoot or Noctowl for a while. Then, he took a lunch break.
For lunch, Vernon always went to the doughnut shop down the street. He then saw the Hoothoots and Noctowls populating the skies, and began to think about this. He then felt something bump into him, and looked down; He had accidentially knocked someone over. Vernon helped the stranger up, then saw what he was wearing; An emerald-green cloak. After taking in the man's bizarre appearance, he walked away, muttering "sorry". But the man replied to him in a high-pitched voice that sounded as though he was part-Cyndaquil.
"Don't be sorry, sir, for You-Know-Who has gone at long last! Even Muggles such as yourself should be celebrating this most happy day!"
And he ran off before Vernon could reply. Not that he would've, seeing as he was stunned at what had just happened. First of all, the man he knocked over was wearing a cloak. Second of all, his voice sounded like he had been breathing in helium his whole life. Third of all, the man had mentioned You-Know-Who. Vernon didn't know who. Fourth of all, he had called Vernon a Muggle- whatever that was. Vernon walked further on, and saw more people, all wearing cloaks like that old man. They were closely clustered and were all muttering excitedly.
"The Potters, did you know..."
"Yes, their son Harry..."
Vernon froze. The Potters? Surely, they couldn't be referring to Petunia's sister Lily, and that horrible man she married, and - Ho-Oh forbid- their son??
Vernon arrived home later to find that the Delcatty was still sitting upon the fence. This perplexed Vernon, as Delcatty were generally nomadic, and never stayed in the same place for too long.
"Shoo!" he said. The Delcatty continued to stare at him. Vernon extracted a PokéBall from his pocket and said "Fine. If you won't shoo, I'll have to do this the hard way." And he threw the Pokeball in the air, which exploded open to reveal a big, bulky Pokemon that greatly resembled Vernon.
"Hariyama, Arm Thrust!" At once, the Hariyama ran towards the Prim Pokemon, powerful arms outstretched. The Delcatty stayed motionless for a moment, then with incredible agility, leapt out of the way. Hariyama skidded to a halt just in time to avoid smashing up the fence. He wheeled around to face the Delcatty, who then lunged at Hariyama. Hariyama had little time to react before the Delcatty's Headbutt hit its mark. Delcatty then leapt back onto the fence, and opened its mouth wide. A small orb of light appeared in it. Before Vernon could say much more than "Hariyama, use Counte-", Delcatty fired off the Hyper Beam attack. As the attack met its mark, a plume of dust filled the area. The dust then cleared to reveal an unconscious Hariyama. Vernon grudgingly held out the Pokeball, returning Hariyama to it. He glared at the Delcatty, muttered something indistinctly to himself, and went in the house.
Later that evening, after dinner, Vernon decided to talk to Petunia about what had happened on his lunch break.
"Eh- Petunia?"
"Yes?"
"You haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"
Petunia froze. Usually she pretended to be an only child. Vernon could hardly blame her for this.
"No. Why?"
"Funny stuff today.... People were all dressed funny.... Owl Pokemon all over the place..." He didn't dare mention that he overheard something about the Potters. He loved Petunia too much to do this, as the slightest mention of them was enough to throw Petunia into a wild panic.
"So?"
"I was just wondering, you know, if it had anything to do with... her crowd."
Petunia chose to ignore this. Vernon couldn't blame her. He'd do the same thing had he had Lily Potter as a sister. He then realized that Potter had to be a very common name. They could've been talking about any family of Potters in the world. And Harry was a common name as well. Vernon continued "Your sister's son- he'd be about Dudley's age, wouldn't he?"
"I suppose so," said Petunia stiffly.
"What was his name again?" asked Vernon in a convincingly casual tone. "Howard? Harold? Bob?"
"Harry. Horribly cheap and common name, in my opinion."
"Oh, yes," said Vernon, his heart sinking. "I quite agree."
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LAte at night, a man in a flowing purple robe appeared out of nowhere at the end of Privet Drive. He had flowing silver hair, and a matching beard. He strolled down the street, taking out of his pocket what looked like a silver cigarette lighter. He clicked it once, and all of Privet Drive's streetlights went out. The man then looked at the Delcatty sitting upon the Dursley's fence, and chuckled "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." The Delcatty then turned into a human; an elderly woman in emerald-green robes.
"Goodness, Dumbledore, how did you recognize me?"
"My dear professor, I have never seen a Delcatty sit so stiffly."
"You'd be stiff too if you'd been sitting on a fence all day."
"All day? When you could've been celebrating? I must've passed at least three dozen parties and feasts on my way here."
"Hmph. You'd think they'd show more regard for security. They're not even bothering to dress like Muggles! And all those Hoothoots and Noctowls... It's not as though they're common around here."
Professor McGonagall then took a deep breath, and continued to talk to Dumbledore.
"Albus, is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"Well, the word that's going around is You-Know-Who.."
"My dear Professor, all this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense- for ages I've been trying to get people to call him by his proper name- Voldemort."
Professor McGonagall winced, an action that went unnoticed by Dumbledore.
"Well, Albus, the word that's going around is that the Potters are.... well.... dead."
Dumbledore bowed his head. McGonagall gasped.
"Oh, Albus! I didn't want to believe it... And you know what else they're saying? They're saying that after You-Know- Oh, fine- Voldemort killed Lily and James, they went for their son, Harry. And they say that he couldn't kill the boy! That somehow the curse rebounded on himself, causing him to vanish!"
Dumbledore nodded, then spoke.
"Yes, Harry survived the curse. Hagrid should be bringing him here now."
"What for?"
"To live with his last living relatives."
"Albus! You surely don't mean these people?! I've been watching them all day, they're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable! They have this fat kid, I saw him kicking his mother and screaming for sweets! And that larger Muggle, he attacked me earlier with his Hariyama!"
"Expected," said Dumbledore, "as battles do come with the territory when one is a PokéMagus."
"Still," persisted McGonagall, "Harry Potter come and live here! He'll be a celebrity in our world, I wouldn't be surprised if the Ministry of Magic declared today Harry Potter day! Books will be written all about him!"
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "It is best that he lives away from all that until he is ready to take it all in. He'll be famous for something that he won't even remember! It'll be enough to inflate anyone's ego to breaking point! I have written the Dursleys a letter explaining all this-"
At that moment, Dumbledore was cut off by a loud noise- a motorcycle engine. The source of the noise came flying out of the sky, and landed on the ground before Dumbledore and McGOnagall. Off the motorcycle climbed a giant of a man, at least eight feet tall with a big bushy beard covering most of his face. He held a bundle of blankets in his arms.
"Hagrid," Dumbledore said, sounding relieved. "Where did you get that motorcycle?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore sir, from young Sirius Black."
"And how is the boy?"
"Fine. Little tyke fell asleep halfway 'cross the sea."
Dumbledore took the bundle from Hagrid, and left it at the door of Number Four, Privet Drive, and tucket a letter beneath it. The little boy within fussed about in his sleep, pushing some blanket off him. McGonagall looked at him, and saw a lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.
"Is that where-"
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."
"Couldn't you-"
"No, and I wouldn't even if I could. Scars can come in handy sometimes."
Hagrid remounted his motorcycle and flew off into the night. McGonagall disappeared into thin air. Dumbledore pulled the blankets over Harry and tucked him in snugly, then disappeared as McGonagall had. Harry had no idea that at the time, hundreds of people were raising their glasses to each other and saying "To Harry Potter, the boy who lived!"
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Disclaimer; I neither own Pokemon nor Harry Potter. Believe me, if I did, Golduck would be able to learn Psychic through a TM, and Dumbledore would still be alive. The only thing I do own, though, is the term PokéMagus.
Chapter one- The Boy Who Lived
The Dursleys of Number Four, Privet Drive led as normal a life as possible. Vernon Dursley was a big beefy sort of man, who worked for Grunnings, a company that made drills. Petunia Dursley, Vernon's wife, was bony and thin. They had a chubby son named Dudley, and in their opinion there was no finer child in existence. But the Dursleys also had a secret, and their worst fear was that someone would discover it.
One fine morning, Vernon Dursley put on his most boring grey suit, slipped his two Pokeballs into his pocket, and walked out of the door, towards his car. Then, he noticed sitting atop the fence, a Delcatty. It was as stiff as a statue. Heeding it no notice, as Delcatty rarely stay in one place for too long, Vernon got into his car and drove to work. For the next few hours, Vernon took phone calls, did paperwork, and shouted at several people for various reasons. After a particularly long and boring phone call, Vernon glanced out the window, and saw flocks of Hoothoot and Noctowl swooping and soaring and flying all across the sky.This perplexed Vernon, as they rarely were seen in their town of Little Whinging, even at night. He then got another phone call, and didn't think about the Hoothoot or Noctowl for a while. Then, he took a lunch break.
For lunch, Vernon always went to the doughnut shop down the street. He then saw the Hoothoots and Noctowls populating the skies, and began to think about this. He then felt something bump into him, and looked down; He had accidentially knocked someone over. Vernon helped the stranger up, then saw what he was wearing; An emerald-green cloak. After taking in the man's bizarre appearance, he walked away, muttering "sorry". But the man replied to him in a high-pitched voice that sounded as though he was part-Cyndaquil.
"Don't be sorry, sir, for You-Know-Who has gone at long last! Even Muggles such as yourself should be celebrating this most happy day!"
And he ran off before Vernon could reply. Not that he would've, seeing as he was stunned at what had just happened. First of all, the man he knocked over was wearing a cloak. Second of all, his voice sounded like he had been breathing in helium his whole life. Third of all, the man had mentioned You-Know-Who. Vernon didn't know who. Fourth of all, he had called Vernon a Muggle- whatever that was. Vernon walked further on, and saw more people, all wearing cloaks like that old man. They were closely clustered and were all muttering excitedly.
"The Potters, did you know..."
"Yes, their son Harry..."
Vernon froze. The Potters? Surely, they couldn't be referring to Petunia's sister Lily, and that horrible man she married, and - Ho-Oh forbid- their son??
Vernon arrived home later to find that the Delcatty was still sitting upon the fence. This perplexed Vernon, as Delcatty were generally nomadic, and never stayed in the same place for too long.
"Shoo!" he said. The Delcatty continued to stare at him. Vernon extracted a PokéBall from his pocket and said "Fine. If you won't shoo, I'll have to do this the hard way." And he threw the Pokeball in the air, which exploded open to reveal a big, bulky Pokemon that greatly resembled Vernon.
"Hariyama, Arm Thrust!" At once, the Hariyama ran towards the Prim Pokemon, powerful arms outstretched. The Delcatty stayed motionless for a moment, then with incredible agility, leapt out of the way. Hariyama skidded to a halt just in time to avoid smashing up the fence. He wheeled around to face the Delcatty, who then lunged at Hariyama. Hariyama had little time to react before the Delcatty's Headbutt hit its mark. Delcatty then leapt back onto the fence, and opened its mouth wide. A small orb of light appeared in it. Before Vernon could say much more than "Hariyama, use Counte-", Delcatty fired off the Hyper Beam attack. As the attack met its mark, a plume of dust filled the area. The dust then cleared to reveal an unconscious Hariyama. Vernon grudgingly held out the Pokeball, returning Hariyama to it. He glared at the Delcatty, muttered something indistinctly to himself, and went in the house.
Later that evening, after dinner, Vernon decided to talk to Petunia about what had happened on his lunch break.
"Eh- Petunia?"
"Yes?"
"You haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"
Petunia froze. Usually she pretended to be an only child. Vernon could hardly blame her for this.
"No. Why?"
"Funny stuff today.... People were all dressed funny.... Owl Pokemon all over the place..." He didn't dare mention that he overheard something about the Potters. He loved Petunia too much to do this, as the slightest mention of them was enough to throw Petunia into a wild panic.
"So?"
"I was just wondering, you know, if it had anything to do with... her crowd."
Petunia chose to ignore this. Vernon couldn't blame her. He'd do the same thing had he had Lily Potter as a sister. He then realized that Potter had to be a very common name. They could've been talking about any family of Potters in the world. And Harry was a common name as well. Vernon continued "Your sister's son- he'd be about Dudley's age, wouldn't he?"
"I suppose so," said Petunia stiffly.
"What was his name again?" asked Vernon in a convincingly casual tone. "Howard? Harold? Bob?"
"Harry. Horribly cheap and common name, in my opinion."
"Oh, yes," said Vernon, his heart sinking. "I quite agree."
----------------------------------------
LAte at night, a man in a flowing purple robe appeared out of nowhere at the end of Privet Drive. He had flowing silver hair, and a matching beard. He strolled down the street, taking out of his pocket what looked like a silver cigarette lighter. He clicked it once, and all of Privet Drive's streetlights went out. The man then looked at the Delcatty sitting upon the Dursley's fence, and chuckled "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." The Delcatty then turned into a human; an elderly woman in emerald-green robes.
"Goodness, Dumbledore, how did you recognize me?"
"My dear professor, I have never seen a Delcatty sit so stiffly."
"You'd be stiff too if you'd been sitting on a fence all day."
"All day? When you could've been celebrating? I must've passed at least three dozen parties and feasts on my way here."
"Hmph. You'd think they'd show more regard for security. They're not even bothering to dress like Muggles! And all those Hoothoots and Noctowls... It's not as though they're common around here."
Professor McGonagall then took a deep breath, and continued to talk to Dumbledore.
"Albus, is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"Well, the word that's going around is You-Know-Who.."
"My dear Professor, all this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense- for ages I've been trying to get people to call him by his proper name- Voldemort."
Professor McGonagall winced, an action that went unnoticed by Dumbledore.
"Well, Albus, the word that's going around is that the Potters are.... well.... dead."
Dumbledore bowed his head. McGonagall gasped.
"Oh, Albus! I didn't want to believe it... And you know what else they're saying? They're saying that after You-Know- Oh, fine- Voldemort killed Lily and James, they went for their son, Harry. And they say that he couldn't kill the boy! That somehow the curse rebounded on himself, causing him to vanish!"
Dumbledore nodded, then spoke.
"Yes, Harry survived the curse. Hagrid should be bringing him here now."
"What for?"
"To live with his last living relatives."
"Albus! You surely don't mean these people?! I've been watching them all day, they're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable! They have this fat kid, I saw him kicking his mother and screaming for sweets! And that larger Muggle, he attacked me earlier with his Hariyama!"
"Expected," said Dumbledore, "as battles do come with the territory when one is a PokéMagus."
"Still," persisted McGonagall, "Harry Potter come and live here! He'll be a celebrity in our world, I wouldn't be surprised if the Ministry of Magic declared today Harry Potter day! Books will be written all about him!"
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "It is best that he lives away from all that until he is ready to take it all in. He'll be famous for something that he won't even remember! It'll be enough to inflate anyone's ego to breaking point! I have written the Dursleys a letter explaining all this-"
At that moment, Dumbledore was cut off by a loud noise- a motorcycle engine. The source of the noise came flying out of the sky, and landed on the ground before Dumbledore and McGOnagall. Off the motorcycle climbed a giant of a man, at least eight feet tall with a big bushy beard covering most of his face. He held a bundle of blankets in his arms.
"Hagrid," Dumbledore said, sounding relieved. "Where did you get that motorcycle?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore sir, from young Sirius Black."
"And how is the boy?"
"Fine. Little tyke fell asleep halfway 'cross the sea."
Dumbledore took the bundle from Hagrid, and left it at the door of Number Four, Privet Drive, and tucket a letter beneath it. The little boy within fussed about in his sleep, pushing some blanket off him. McGonagall looked at him, and saw a lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.
"Is that where-"
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."
"Couldn't you-"
"No, and I wouldn't even if I could. Scars can come in handy sometimes."
Hagrid remounted his motorcycle and flew off into the night. McGonagall disappeared into thin air. Dumbledore pulled the blankets over Harry and tucked him in snugly, then disappeared as McGonagall had. Harry had no idea that at the time, hundreds of people were raising their glasses to each other and saying "To Harry Potter, the boy who lived!"
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