Missingno. Master
Poison-type Trainer
Yes, I am giving this fic a third shot. This time I have reworked the first chapter over and over again to eliminate any direct quotations, though believe you me, it was NOT easy. The only line I kept from the book (intentionally anyway) was the last one.
Disclaimer; I neither own Pokemon nor Harry Potter. Believe me, if I did, Aipom would have fantastic stats, and Dumbledore would still be alive. The only thing I do own, though, is the term PokéMagus. Pokemon was created by Satoshi Tajirri (SP?). Harry Potter was created by J.K. Rowling. YOu'll notice I'm not either one of them.
Chapter one- The Boy Who Lived
The Dursleys of Number Four, Privet Drive led as normal a life as one could live. Vernon Dursley was a big and beefy sort of man, who worked for Grunnings, a company that made drills. Petunia Dursley, Vernon's wife, was bony and thin, Vernon's exact opposite. They had a son named Dudley (who judging by his chubbiness, clearly took after his father), and in their opinion no better child could exist. But the Dursleys also had a secret, their worst fear being that aforementioned secret would become known to anyone.
One fine Tuesday morning, Vernon Dursley put on his most boring and dull gray suit, slipped his two Pokeballs into his pocket, and walked out of the house, towards his car. Then, he noticed sitting atop the fence, a very fancy and elegant cat Pokemon- a Delcatty. It was sitting 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, few of them reasonable. After a particularly long and boring phone call, witht he boredom punctuated only by Vernon's occasional outbursts of anger at the sheer boredom of the 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, equally boring as the last, and didn't think about the Hoothoot or Noctowl for a while. At noon, he took his 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.
"YOu need not apologize, good sir, for You-Know-Who is at long last gone! Even Muggles such as yourself should be celebrating and having fun!
And he ran off before Vernon could utter a reply. Not that he would've, of course, seeing as he was too stunned at what had just happened. First of all, the man he knocked over was wearing a cloak. Vernon thought cloaks were the ultimate in tacky and undesirable garments. 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 in the name of Ho-Oh that could've been. Vernon walked further on, and saw more people. Much to Vernon's disgust, they were all wearing cloaks like that old man. They were closely clustered and were all muttering excitedly.
"The Potters, yes the Potters...."
"I know, yes, their son Harry..."
Vernon froze. The Potters? Surely, they couldn't be referring to Petunia's horrible sister Lily, and that equally horrible man she married, and - Vernon shuddered to think- 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 in a loud and commanding voice. The Delcatty continued to stare at him. Vernon was perplexed. Not even the boldest Treecko would've defies him as Delcatty just did. So 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 great, 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 he had saw on his lunch break.
"Eh- Petunia?"
"Yes, dear?"
"You haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"
Petunia froze at this. Usually she tried to make herself out to be an only child. Considering what the Potters were like, Vernon could hardly blame her for this at all.
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Funny stuff happening today.... People were all dressed funny.... Cloaks... Hoothoot and Noctowl swooping all over the place..." He didn't dare mention that he overheard something about the Potters. He loved and cared about Petunia too much to do this, as the slightest mention of them was enough to throw her into a wild panic.
"So?"
"I was just wondering, you know, if it had anything to do with... 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," said Petunia stiffly, not looking at Vernon.
"What was his name again?" asked Vernon in a convincingly casual tone. "Howard? Harold? Bob?"
"Harry. Horrifyingly cheap and common name, in my opinion."
"Oh, yes," said Vernon, his heart sinking. "I- I quite agree, dear."
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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 in a flash of light, all of Privet Drive's streetlights went out in such a fashion, it was rather as though about twelve Pokemon were being called back into one Pokeball. The man then stopped at number four, looked at the Delcatty sitting upon the Dursley's fence, and chuckled "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." The Delcatty blinked in surprise, then morphed into a human; an elderly woman in emerald-green robes.
"Holy good gargling Gengars, Dumbledore, how did you recognize me?"
"My dear professor, I have never seen a Delcatty sit as stiffly as you were."
"You'd be stiff too if you'd been sitting on a fence all day."
"All day? You've been sitting on a fence 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 anti-Muggle security. They're not even bothering to dress like Muggles! And all those Hoothoots and Noctowls... They're rare enough at night as it is, let alone during the day!"
Professor McGonagall then took a deep breath, and continued to talk to Dumbledore.
"Albus, is it true?"
"Is what true, professor?"
"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.... they're.... dead."
Dumbledore bowed his head somberly. McGonagall gasped.
"Oh, Albus! I didn't want to believe it... I refused 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, he 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 can't mean these people?! I've watched them all day, they're the absolute worst example of Muggles anyone could ever hope to not meet! 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! In fact, with his build, I almost mistook the Muggle for a Hariyama!"
"Expected," said Dumbledore, "as battles do come with the territory when one is a PokéMagus."
"Still," persisted McGonagall, "It's unthinkable! Harry Potter come and live here! 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! Half our world's probably started a Harry Potter fan club already!"
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "It is best that he lives away from all that fame until he is ready to take it all in. Imagine, Minerva. He'll be famous for something that he won't even remember! Something that happened before he's taller than the average wand! It'd 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 lovingly in his arms.
"Hagrid," Dumbledore said, sounding relieved. "Where on earth did you get that motorcycle?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore sir, from young Sirius Black. Saw him at the house- well, what was left of it, anyway- and he gave me the motorcycle"
"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 the curse-"
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have to live with that scar forever."
"Couldn't you possible do something about it? It's not particularly pleasing to the eye."
"I'm afraid not."
"And Albus, do you really think that all this can be explained in a mere letter? These Muggles will never understand!"
"They'll have to try, Minerva."
"But they're not nearly as intelligent as you, Albus! Of course, from what I've seen, they're not nearly as intelligent as a concussed Slowbro either."
Dumbledore chuckled at this.
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. Young Harry had no idea that at the time, hundreds of people who were meeting (and partying) in secret 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, Aipom would have fantastic stats, and Dumbledore would still be alive. The only thing I do own, though, is the term PokéMagus. Pokemon was created by Satoshi Tajirri (SP?). Harry Potter was created by J.K. Rowling. YOu'll notice I'm not either one of them.
Chapter one- The Boy Who Lived
The Dursleys of Number Four, Privet Drive led as normal a life as one could live. Vernon Dursley was a big and beefy sort of man, who worked for Grunnings, a company that made drills. Petunia Dursley, Vernon's wife, was bony and thin, Vernon's exact opposite. They had a son named Dudley (who judging by his chubbiness, clearly took after his father), and in their opinion no better child could exist. But the Dursleys also had a secret, their worst fear being that aforementioned secret would become known to anyone.
One fine Tuesday morning, Vernon Dursley put on his most boring and dull gray suit, slipped his two Pokeballs into his pocket, and walked out of the house, towards his car. Then, he noticed sitting atop the fence, a very fancy and elegant cat Pokemon- a Delcatty. It was sitting 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, few of them reasonable. After a particularly long and boring phone call, witht he boredom punctuated only by Vernon's occasional outbursts of anger at the sheer boredom of the 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, equally boring as the last, and didn't think about the Hoothoot or Noctowl for a while. At noon, he took his 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.
"YOu need not apologize, good sir, for You-Know-Who is at long last gone! Even Muggles such as yourself should be celebrating and having fun!
And he ran off before Vernon could utter a reply. Not that he would've, of course, seeing as he was too stunned at what had just happened. First of all, the man he knocked over was wearing a cloak. Vernon thought cloaks were the ultimate in tacky and undesirable garments. 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 in the name of Ho-Oh that could've been. Vernon walked further on, and saw more people. Much to Vernon's disgust, they were all wearing cloaks like that old man. They were closely clustered and were all muttering excitedly.
"The Potters, yes the Potters...."
"I know, yes, their son Harry..."
Vernon froze. The Potters? Surely, they couldn't be referring to Petunia's horrible sister Lily, and that equally horrible man she married, and - Vernon shuddered to think- 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 in a loud and commanding voice. The Delcatty continued to stare at him. Vernon was perplexed. Not even the boldest Treecko would've defies him as Delcatty just did. So 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 great, 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 he had saw on his lunch break.
"Eh- Petunia?"
"Yes, dear?"
"You haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"
Petunia froze at this. Usually she tried to make herself out to be an only child. Considering what the Potters were like, Vernon could hardly blame her for this at all.
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Funny stuff happening today.... People were all dressed funny.... Cloaks... Hoothoot and Noctowl swooping all over the place..." He didn't dare mention that he overheard something about the Potters. He loved and cared about Petunia too much to do this, as the slightest mention of them was enough to throw her into a wild panic.
"So?"
"I was just wondering, you know, if it had anything to do with... 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," said Petunia stiffly, not looking at Vernon.
"What was his name again?" asked Vernon in a convincingly casual tone. "Howard? Harold? Bob?"
"Harry. Horrifyingly cheap and common name, in my opinion."
"Oh, yes," said Vernon, his heart sinking. "I- I quite agree, dear."
----------------------------------------
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 in a flash of light, all of Privet Drive's streetlights went out in such a fashion, it was rather as though about twelve Pokemon were being called back into one Pokeball. The man then stopped at number four, looked at the Delcatty sitting upon the Dursley's fence, and chuckled "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." The Delcatty blinked in surprise, then morphed into a human; an elderly woman in emerald-green robes.
"Holy good gargling Gengars, Dumbledore, how did you recognize me?"
"My dear professor, I have never seen a Delcatty sit as stiffly as you were."
"You'd be stiff too if you'd been sitting on a fence all day."
"All day? You've been sitting on a fence 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 anti-Muggle security. They're not even bothering to dress like Muggles! And all those Hoothoots and Noctowls... They're rare enough at night as it is, let alone during the day!"
Professor McGonagall then took a deep breath, and continued to talk to Dumbledore.
"Albus, is it true?"
"Is what true, professor?"
"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.... they're.... dead."
Dumbledore bowed his head somberly. McGonagall gasped.
"Oh, Albus! I didn't want to believe it... I refused 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, he 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 can't mean these people?! I've watched them all day, they're the absolute worst example of Muggles anyone could ever hope to not meet! 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! In fact, with his build, I almost mistook the Muggle for a Hariyama!"
"Expected," said Dumbledore, "as battles do come with the territory when one is a PokéMagus."
"Still," persisted McGonagall, "It's unthinkable! Harry Potter come and live here! 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! Half our world's probably started a Harry Potter fan club already!"
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "It is best that he lives away from all that fame until he is ready to take it all in. Imagine, Minerva. He'll be famous for something that he won't even remember! Something that happened before he's taller than the average wand! It'd 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 lovingly in his arms.
"Hagrid," Dumbledore said, sounding relieved. "Where on earth did you get that motorcycle?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore sir, from young Sirius Black. Saw him at the house- well, what was left of it, anyway- and he gave me the motorcycle"
"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 the curse-"
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have to live with that scar forever."
"Couldn't you possible do something about it? It's not particularly pleasing to the eye."
"I'm afraid not."
"And Albus, do you really think that all this can be explained in a mere letter? These Muggles will never understand!"
"They'll have to try, Minerva."
"But they're not nearly as intelligent as you, Albus! Of course, from what I've seen, they're not nearly as intelligent as a concussed Slowbro either."
Dumbledore chuckled at this.
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. Young Harry had no idea that at the time, hundreds of people who were meeting (and partying) in secret were raising their glasses to each other and saying "To Harry Potter-the boy who lived!"
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