Disclaimer:
I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. JKR has those rights. I also don't own Pokegirls, but I don't think anybody does (?).

*Author's Note*
Inspirations: A Third Path to the Future by Vimesenthusiast, Wand and Shield by Morta's Priest, Wizard Runemaster and Last Second Savior by Plums, World of Wheezes by Byakugan789, and the Tales of Mr Black - starting with Make a Wish - by Rorschach's Blot (et all).

Most of these inspirations are in progress, and I highly recommend stealing time from other activities to read these stories.

For more information on Pokegirls, google 'Pokegirls' and visit one (or more) of the following websites: , the Pokegirl World Project, or the Pokegirls Pokecenter.

Please Read and Review!

Chapter First Published: 2014-05-28

Chapter Edited: 2014-06-06

Chapter One: Enjoy your Vacation, Champion!

Harry James Potter, thirty year old Wizard, was tired of British Wizards and Witches hounding him everywhere he went. All he wanted to do was explore the magical world beyond Great Britain, but no, they constantly had to butt in everywhere he went. They even found him in his hide-out under the Antarctic Glacier, those bastards. Nothing he'd done to get away from them had worked, but that was okay. They wouldn't be capable of following him this time, those nasty gold-diggers, fangirls – and fanboys, much worse than fangirls – the other assorted hangers-on and false friends, Ron came to mind strongly here, politicians wanting to use him for purposes he loathed, the list went on and on.

The worst thing about it was that nothing had changed. Thirteen years since Voldemort's defeat, and nothing was truly different. The same circumstances that existed during Voldemort's first rise existed still, thirteen years after his second death.

Hermione's death was the only real difference. Harry didn't know whether to be pleased with that or grieve every time he thought of her, his first love. Harry would hate for her to be alive to witness the casual destruction of her legacy, yet he hated the fact she was dead just as much. She had desired to change the world, and he would have willingly helped her change it, but she was dead, and he just couldn't bring himself to care about the moronic witches and wizards of Britain.

It was far past time to leave this world behind for good. His portal had been ready for some time; the past two years were solely to build himself up, to finish acquiring the gear he'd need to survive whatever he walked into.

Weapons, armor, survival gear, he had it all, and most of it was heavily enchanted. Secrets he'd found in twelve years of wandering the world, digging up ancient tombs and killing the occasional Dark Lord or Lady who had uncovered something interesting or unusual. Heavily enchanted Adamantium Weave underarmor, mithril etched rune engraved Basilisk Hide for outerarmor, with Death's Invisibility cloak folded up in a pocked. He wasn't completely stupid, however, and wore a set of normal clothes over the Basilisk Hide, for he had no way to know what he'd run into. Gryffindor's Sword was slung over his back, Death's Wand waiting in its sheath on his left forearm, Death's Ring next to Hermione's engagement ring on his left hand ring finger. He still hadn't really figured the ring out, yet, and he doubted he ever would. The rest of his gear was equally powerful and well taken care of: additional rings, earrings, amulets, crowns, headbands, glasses, goggles, a set of contacts, the list went on and on, from the fully outfitted and currently in stasis greenhouse to the heavily enchanted pistol, most of which was stored away in a series of shrunken trunks, placed into another trunk, and held on a chain around his neck. The pistol conjured ammunition as it was fired, and a selector allowed it to etch runes onto each bullet.

He took one last look at his final hideout – a penthouse suite in Los Vegas. He was rarely ever there, only showing up to drop off potential resources and tools or to mess with his portal. Everything was packed away, nothing was left. All of his notes were destroyed, the books they were taken from in a portable library. His portal was embedded into the wall, rare gemstones – rare because of the way they channeled magic – molded into the required runes. It should fade into nothing after he stepped through.

Should. In case it didn't, though, he'd warded the room to hell and back again. Nothing was going to get through without his awareness, no matter where – or when – he was.

Checking all of his gear one last time, except all of those trunks – that would take way too long – he activated the portal and stepped through.

Death twitched as someone stepped outside of the mortal realm. Most reality hoppers took very different routes to walking between worlds, something about how difficult it was to even access the realm she existed in.

Actually, every world hopper took a different route than this one, but everybody came here eventually, no matter what they did in life. There had to be some way to get to the afterlife, after all, and Her realm was the only way. That blasted ring that villain who wished to become Death had made only brought an echo, but it was created with the power he had stolen from her.

She moved to the source of the twitch, appearing behind the human male as his portal closed.

"At least the portal closed," he murmured. "I don't want any of those people following me."

"I don't think anybody would want to follow you into my realm, mortal," Death laughed, with the assurance only someone who is inevitable can have. He spun around, quick as lightning, a wand pointed at her, a wand she recognized. "You have – how? How do you have that wand?" She staggered back, dazed at the very sight of the wand someone stole the power to make so very long ago and at the power this intruder exuded. Harry staggered back, as well, the sheer aura Death presented scrambling his senses.

He did manage to speak, "... it refused to leave me alone. Blasted thing, anyway, just like the ring and the cloak. I tossed the wand and the stone into the ocean, once, and they were on my desk at my next hideaway."

Death at him fearfully, "And the cloak?" she shivered. It didn't matter that she hadn't created them herself, for they were created with her power, power forcibly taken from her

"Family heirloom, practically the only thing I have of my father," then he mumbled, "I wish I had that little of my mother."

Death unfroze. "So what does the so-called 'Master of Death' wish with me?" she asked, straightening up, aware at last that she had nothing to fear from this human.

"Er, to walk on through? Unless you can destroy these items, in which case that would be awesome. No matter how useful they are they scare the shit out of me." He looked like he was thinking. "So, are you actually Death? 'Cause it didn't even cross my mind Death could be hot," he said, flushing lightly. Death was clad in black, form fitting clothes. Her pale skin showed wherever her clothes were absent, such as down her slender forearms, or her elegant, graceful neck. Her clothes hinted at the generous curves they concealed, and a single slit showed off her legs whenever she moved.

She laughed. Although not at ease with the fact that the bearer those accursed items had entered her realm with the intent to cross it to another world, she noticed that he was remarkably down to earth. And good looking. That helped her opinion of him immensely.

"Yes, I'm actually Death, yes you are currently in my realm, no you are not on your way to the Afterlife, and no, you are not my Master." She frowned. "You could use them to hurt me greatly, but they can't compel me to your will, nor would they actually kill me. The bastard who made those items stole the power to make them from me, and imbued all he could into them. When three people passed a trap he set up to seek my favor – or my forgiveness, both of which were impossible for him to do – he split the items up between them."

"Well, that's a relief. It also explains why you are female while the so called 'Death' in the story is male."

She laughed again, "I imagine it would. I would be willing, however, to accept a Champion," she smirked as he reeled back, that damn wand disappearing into the ether, shock writ on his face. She didn't know exactly where that came from, other than that she was lonely. All paperwork and no fun make for a stressed out Death, and a stressed out Death starts looking for ways to, ah, amuse herself.

"Why would you tie yourself to a mortal like that?"

"Because it isn't often that one survives my being called into their presence," she said.

"Wait, what?"

"Harry Potter," she sighed, "I'm actually pleased to see those damn Hallows here, though I wish I had been more on my guard in the first place, so that they were never created. You bringing them here, where I can reclaim their power, means I owe you a boon, whether or not you become my Champion. The Killing Curse draws a shadow of a fragment of – well, me, really – into the Mortal Plane, and sheathes it with magic coated in Hatred and Loathing or Sorrow and Despair, depending upon the caster and the use. The fragment is enough to forcibly yank the spirit out of the body and send it on its way. The intent is required because the pure magic required to cast an emotionless killing curse is beyond humans."

"Well," he sighed, "That explains why it's so hard to block."

"It's actually quite easy to block," a third voice spoke. "You just need to pull a fragment of me into the mortal plane to counter it. Doing that is much more complicated than calling up Death, however."

"Life! I haven't seen you in, umm, I forget." Harry turned to look at the newcomer. She was wearing green, green everywhere. Pale green, white green, dark green, all green everything. Her skin was lightly tanned, as though she spent some time every day working in a garden. Her clothes revealed tantalizing hints of smooth, slender curves, and honey-blonde hair fell to her waist. The aura around her was vibrant, full of desire, dreams, pure life. Every step she took caused plants to grow out of the dead ground around her, but by the next step taken they had withered away into nothing, for there was nothing here for life to take root to, unlike Life, who was mobile.

"It's been a few millennium, Death, but you know I can never stay away for too long."

"Yes, you always come back to me eventually."

"You know neither of us would exist without the other, so why does it seem like you are complaining?"

Death pinched her nose in mild exasperation. "Because this is the first time you've shown up without advance warning of any kind."

Life snorted. It was somehow cute. "I felt you decide on a Champion."

That knocked Death for a loop. "How?"

"I just did, something about balance," Life grinned. "Who's your Champion, anyway?"

"He hasn't decided yet!"

"Ha, what does that have to do with your decision to take a champion? Whether he ever acknowledges it or not, he is now your champion."

Harry Potter looked on, bemused. Two extremely powerful beings – either the source of or the personifications of their titles – engaged in a petty squabble. That last statement, though, threw him a bit.

"Hey, don't I have any say in this? Besides, you haven't answered my first question!"

"Which question might that be?" Life asked, Death standing there with an open mouth.

"Why would she tie herself to a mortal?"

"Harry, I hate to break this to you, but you're anything but mortal. All the stuff you've gone through? Hit with not one, but two Killing Curses, the first at a very young age, and still alive? Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears still flowing through your bloodstream? Not to mention whatever else you've gone through since then." Life shook her head. "Death really can't make a better choice than Harry Potter for her Champion."

"Okay, but what does having a Champion do for her? And what do I get out of this?"

Death sighed, "I get an agent that can act in the mortal realm. I, myself, am incapable of moving there, and there are events that just... gah! Piss me the fuck off. You gain a power boost which steadily increases as you complete tasks I give you," here she smirked lasciviously, "And I get a lover. In this case, a male lover." Perhaps, she thought, this is why I decided so easily, so quickly. "Eventually. When you can take me." She blushed lightly.

Harry flushed a bright red at the thought. Thirty-something he may be, but talking about sex always knocked him off balance. It was something he'd managed to successfully ignore while at a boarding school. Somehow. Or maybe he didn't, and simply suppressed all thoughts of it after Hermione died as too painful to remember.

"You also gain an immediate boon," Life said. "We'll remove the curses on the Wand and the Ring, and attune them to better fit you. The cloak is free of them."

"Hey, what do you mean, 'we'?"

"Remember that bit about balance? Since you chose a Champion, I am required to chose a Champion. The longer it takes me to pick one, the more this particular slice of the multiverse gets out of whack. The more out of whack things get, the harder it is to bring balance back. Plus, this will even things out easily, without any of the world shattering events that would otherwise happen. I don't think you want to do more paperwork, yes?"

"You have a point," Death replied, grudging her loss in this matter. "I hate paperwork. Damn immortals..." She turned to Harry, "If you accept being the champion of one of us, you accept it for both of us. Sorry, Harry."

"It's not like I have anything to lose by accepting, right?"

Life raised a questioning eyebrow. "What about your dream of a normal life?"

"I realized it was just a dream over a decade ago." Harry said flatly. "All the stuff I went through at Hogwarts, and everything I've done since, have made me realize that a 'normal' life is boring."

"Ah."

"So. I, Harry James Potter, accept the offers of Life and Death to be their Champion." Harry and the ladies twitched.

"Well. That felt funny," Harry said just before a black Eye of Horus started etching itself into his skin around his left eye, a deep green ankh doing the same around his right. "So did that."

"The more you do in our service the fancier the tattoos become," Death spoke plainly.

"Fantastic," he said, looking into the mirror Life had created in front of him, eying the tattoos around his eyes.

"And the tattoos are hidden unless you flare your magic," she continued. "So it'll just freak people out more when you do so."

Harry blinked, curious, then shook it off and asked, "So, what now?"

"You have several options. First, you can continue on the path you were on – it will take you to Azeroth."

"That sounds familiar... wait, is that the same Azeroth as World of Warcrack?"

"Precisely. Are you familiar with that game?"

"No, I've just seen some of the adverts when I've been in non-magical areas," he mused. "Okay, what's the next option?"

"The other option is we knock you off of this path and send you to a remarkably different Earth."

"And why would I want to go back to where I just left?"

"You would be going to a Parallel Reality, except things are extremely different."

"Could you explain more, Death?" Harry asked, clueless.

"Gah!" she threw her arms up in frustration. "You explain it, Life!"

"One explanation that I've heard is that for each action taken, a new universe is created for the other actions that could have been taken. These other universes are mirrors of the first. The closer the mirrors are to your starting universe, the fewer things have changed. But if you were to go to one a long, long ways away..." Life trailed off, hoping he would make the connection.

"It would be very different, so different that almost nothing is the same?"

"Precisely. Now, the specific universe I have in mind will be remarkably like a vacation compared to Azeroth. On Azeroth there are plenty of active threats that could take you down with minimal hassle at this point. On this Alternative Earth, there is very little that can truly take you down now, and most of those are either not hostile or are not capable of acting."

"Anything else I should be aware of?"

"Yes, you'll find love in either case, but on the Alternate Earth you'll get it very, very quickly." She grinned broadly, and threw a wink in Death's direction. "Furthermore, you'll have a chance to further your service to us there that won't be particularly life-threatening, unlike what's available on Azeroth."

"Okay, what's the catch?"

"You'll need to use everything you've got to survive the new place, at least at first. Azeroth would be worse. We'd rather not have to rebuild your body every few days."

"That sounds like it would be rather painful," Harry muttered.

"Too true," Life sighed.

"So, are you ready, Champion?" Death asked.

"Just one more question."

"Go ahead, Champion," Life replied.

"What has you two all giggly about this particular world, anyway?"

"You are officially on Vacation, Champion! Enjoy yourself!" Death ordered. Life giggled in response, thinking of all the dirty, sexy things the strangely innocent Harry would experience.

"Damnit!" Harry cursed as he was yanked away from his new, oh what's the word, backers? Patrons? Matrons doesn't quite seem right, so that's out. Supporters? Guides? Associates? Whatever. The two of them were all giggly over something, and Harry felt that to be a little freaky. That two incarnations of existence – or aspects of existence, or something – were giggling like schoolgirls struck him as just wrong.

"I wonder if he'll be irritated with us?" Death mused to her some-time lover Life as they curled up on the couch, watching as Harry fell through the darkness between worlds that comprised Death's domain.

"Of course he's irritated with us, we withheld useful information from him," Life answered. "He'll get over it, eventually considering it a practical joke. So what prompted you to send him to that world in particular?"

"I checked over his life as soon as I saw him. Multitasking is a wonderful skill, especially when you don't need to actually do anything to examine someone's past except look at two things at once. Anyway, he has had a crappy life, especially after his Hermione died."

"His Hermione?" Life interrupted.

"Yes, his Hermione, much the same way she was her Harry."

"She was his source of happiness?"

"His only source of happiness. He proposed to her shortly before her death. The band he wears on his left hand ring finger is the ring he gave to her when he proposed. Which reminds me, did we 'fix up' the wand and ring yet?"

"Hmm, no, I don't think we did. Oops."

"That should be easy to remedy, just mix items with a strong connection to life into the items with a strong connection to death. A wand of death and protection, a ring of spirits and souls? Something like that."

"An excellent idea, thank you, Death." Life's eyes flashed. "It's done. He hasn't made it there yet, either."

"Back away, you vile tangent! So you sent him to that world so he can find something similar to what he lost?"

"Yes, the bonds he will probably end up forging with a number of the inhabitants will provide him an anchor to help rebuild the gaping hole in his heart."

"So why did you name him your Champion?"
"There are plenty of those who seek to avoid me in the mortal realms that I can't reach without one. Especially on that world – the 'loss' of magic prevented them from being discovered, exposed, and destroyed, thereby ensuring that they would remain out of my reach. He'll have plenty of tasks to do there – after he has his vacation. Say, a year or so, unless something comes up. Why did you agree to it?"

"There are plenty of people who seek to destroy life in the mortal realms that I cannot touch without a champion. It is good that we both picked the same man, now isn't it?" She burrowed a little closer into Death's embrace.

"Why?"
"Because frequently the two are entwined."

"And your other reason?"

"It's been far too long since either of us has had a male lover," she whispered into Death's ear, "And since we both chose him, he's more likely to gain enough power to become that lover." Death shivered in pleasurable anticipation, both for Life's searching fingers and the thought of someone who could keep up with the two of them.

Her last idle thought before pleasure overtook her was, "I wonder where our other sisters are."

Harry landed with a brief thump on a meter wide dirt pathway. His presence was announced to the immediate area with a flash of bright white light, and to the world as a whole with deep echoes felt by every magic user on the planet. The area went to normal extremely quickly: the wind blew again, and the insects native to the area began singing their songs. Random grasses bent like waves beneath the modest wind, and sturdy trees grew here and there, frequently in the wind shadow of small hills. The road was only visible for a short distance either direction before it wound around two hills. Harry pulled himself from laying flat on the ground to a sitting position, and from there to standing, checking his body for any signs of injury. That completed with no complications, he checked to see if all of his things were there. When they were, he conjured a hand mirror to see if what he had just gone through was a dream or reality.

The black Eye of Horus around his left eye belied the thought that it was a dream, as did the green ankh around his right eye. He snorted. Why couldn't he be normal? Ha, it's not like there really is anything normal about walking between worlds, especially the way he did it, taking a path through Death's Realm, indeed.

"That first step sure is a doozy," he muttered.

He heard the voice long before he saw the man it was sounding from.

"I saw that bright light! I know you did, too! The only thing it can possibly be is a Tamer of some kind, as we are extremely deep in feral territory!" A loud, obnoxious voice exclaimed, the sound echoing off into the hills around them. "I must challenge aforementioned Tamer! This is my area! My hunting grounds! How dare this, this upstart show up here and seek to claim that which is mine?"

A brief pause, and then, "Of course he knows! Everybody knows that this is the territory of Bartholomew Blunderghast the Mighty!" another pause, then the sound of flesh striking flesh. "Silence! You are my Pokegirl, I am your Tamer! You must obey me!"

The obnoxiously loud man's voice sounded ever closer. Harry, utterly lost and curious, decided to wait where he was. He sat down and rubbed his head, waiting for the arrogant blowhard to come around the corner and spot him.

Harry didn't have to wait too long for a large, not quite round man to step into his view. The presumed Bartholomew Blunderghast the Mighty had a strange looking backpack, odd looking red and white balls attached to a belt of some kind, and was standing next to something... weird. It – because it most definitely wasn't human – was covered in light red scales. Its hair looked like fire, agitated red-blond waves flowing in a breeze completely counter to the actual wind. It had a pair of large, round breasts that stood out firm and proud. Its feet and hands were clawed. It – no, she, definitely she – was beautiful, and quite human, too, for her features – other than all the scales and the tail – were far too close to human to be a coincidence of evolution. The only clothing she wore was around her waist, providing her with a small modicum of modesty.

Or she would be beautiful, if it weren't for the hatred Harry could see in her eyes when she looked at who Harry assumed was Bartholomew.

"Shut up, slut!" he commanded.

It didn't look like she'd spoken a single word, and the glance she gave Bartholomew reminded Harry of his time at the Dursleys.

"There's the Tamer!" Harry heard the capital, and was confused. "I challenge you to a Pokeslut battle for the rights to capture ferals in this area!"

Harry just looked at the man, confused. "Who and what why, now?" he asked, completely lost.

"I challenge you to a Pokeslut duel!"

"What kind of duel is that?"

"You send a Pokeslut out to battle one of mine!" Harry just looked at the fat man."You must be a Tamer! Only a Tamer is capable of making it this far from the nearest city!"

"Master," the... Pokeslut can't be the right word... girl?... said, "the nearest town is less than twenty miles away."

"Shut up, bitch! No Taming for you tonight! Back into your 'ball with you!" Bartholomew the Mighty shouted, holding one of the balls – suddenly enlarged – formerly attached to his belt in his hand. He depressed a button, and a red beam shot out and seemed to suck the girl in.

"What the hell was that?" Harry exclaimed, finally standing upright.

"Since you seem to know nothing, I'll just kill you and take your stuff! I screw you, Pri-Mate Wild Thing!" and he threw one of those strange balls out. A beam released a... monkey girl. She stood about five feet tall, modest breasts, soft brown fur covering her body, a tail lashing out behind her. She immediately dropped into a combat stance balanced on the tips of her toes, then relaxed into passivity on not seeing anything.

"Beat him up, Wild-Thing! He's a Tamer not recognizing a challenge! I have the right to do this!"

The being in front of me just looked at me curiously. "Master, he has no pokeballs."

"Silence, whore!"

"..." the simian being looked skyward, probably asking for strength from the beyond.

"You will defeat this Tamer!"

"Look, I don't know what a Tamer is, I don't know who you are, and I have no idea who the lovely girl in front of you is, so if you could perhaps take it from the top...?"

"My name is Bartholomew Blunderghast the Mighty! You will bow before me!"

"Are you a little touched in the head?"

"Are you calling me crazy?!"

"Certainly not, Barty," Harry said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Don't call me that!" the insane man replied obliviously. The monkey girl, 'Wild-Thing', and what kind of name is that, anyway?, caught on, smirked, and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, Mr. Mighty," Harry replied, distracted, for something had caught his attention. The insects that he'd heard were now quiet, and it wasn't a result of Bartholomew's presence. There was something else nearby, something... dangerous. Harry's eyes fluttered, showing all white, as his mind searched for whatever was nearby. Wild-Thing's eyes widened in shock as she felt his mind pass over hers, Bartholomew didn't even notice it in his continued rant.

But Harry couldn't find whatever it was. A shadow of a shadow was all that he could find traces of, but not whatever was causing the area around him to be silent except for the wind.

He pulled his mind back to himself, opened his eyes, loosened his weapons in their sheaths, and drew his wand, preparing himself for whatever may come. His wand was no longer pure death, however – now it was a mixture of life and death, yin and yang. Elder wood and thestral hair entwined with crystallized phoenix fire and wood from Avendasora, the Tree of Life. Harry didn't know when it happened, but he could feel the difference in the wand as he held it. It felt warm now, not cold as it always had before. Hastily muttered spells and wand flicks deadened his scent, any sounds he would make, and left him as less than a flickering blur against the tall grass behind him.

"Master?" Wild-Thing asked hesitantly. "The tamer has disappeared, Master."

"Ha! He has forfeit my challenge! I am Victorious! Excellent work, Wild-Thing, you scared him off!"

Harry snorted, silencing spells up. This Barty fellow was more conceited than Malfoy ever was.

The grass rustled. Something burst out, bladed arms flashed through a cloudless sky, and Wild-Thing fell over dead in a blink, her head and arms separated from her body, blood pouring down her chest and shoulders as the body stood still for an instant before tumbling to the ground. Whatever caused that ruckus disappeared in less than an eye blink, vanishing into tall grass that was barely up to Harry's thigh, even though whatever it was stood much taller than that.

Bartholomew Blunderghast the Mighty stood in shock. Something had just killed his newest pokegirl! He grabbed his remaining pokeballs and released all of his 'girls. Five beautiful women materialized from the red beams, one of them the beautiful fire-hair that had been sucked in earlier.

"Master?" she asked subserviently, then turned and saw the bloody headless body of her newest harem-sister, and the Master's current favorite, Wild-Thing. Well, former favorite, and ex harem-sister. "Master?! What is going on!?"

"Slut! Something killed Wild-Thing, and it certainly wasn't the tamer, for he fled in fear! Start searching! I want to capture whatever killed Wild-Thing so easily!"

The 'girl nodded, and gestured to her comrades. One stood by her Tamer and snorted, her bountiful bouncing breasts mesmerizing Harry for an instant. Her long pink hair hung straight down to her waist, and her golden eyes spoke of sadness, anger, self-hatred, and boredom. Her muscular body tensed as she stretched, showing her curves off to all and sundry, none of whom cared. Well, Harry cared. The rest of her body mesmerized Harry when he tore his gaze away from her boobs.

"Slut! I said go look for whatever killed Wild-Thing!"

"Why should I care, Master?" She mocked. "It makes no difference to me." Harry saw her eyes. He knew that what Barty thought didn't matter to her. Perhaps another could bring her out of it?

Bartholomew the Mighty snarled. He wished he'd paid attention to his Bimbo now, or at least traded her for a combat capable pokegirl, but he hadn't, and now this Hyperdoll that loathed him refused to leave. There was nothing he could do about it though, except pretend she didn't exist unless he wanted to Tame her.

The other girls had moved away by the time Harry drew his gaze from the beautiful woman hovering near Bartholomew. One had taken to the air, and was searching around in a spiral pattern, yellow feathered wings beating steadily,black feathers coating the rest of her body except for her breasts, which were covered in a light yellow down. The fiery 'girl from earlier was slowly moving into the grass, searching everywhere, fire coating her arms. The 'girl who had skin colored in tans, browns, and grays had started to take precautions, moving to the side of the road and raising earthworks, forming a crude barrier to any who would enter. The being with the bladed tail took to scything the grass down inside and outside the barrier.

Bartholomew looked at his 'girls as they worked. Except for his blighted Hyperdoll, they tended to do excellent work. Not that he'd ever tell them that, of course! He was Bartholomew Blunderghast the Mighty, and his pokegirls learned how to act from him! Learned what to do from him!

The still nameless Charmelons sighed, for 'Slut' was not a name she'd wish on anybody. She wished she had a capable Tamer, instead of this idiotic insensitive clueless moron. Unfortunately, the basic Tamer's test was so easy even a few people with the Insanely High Stupidity Blood-Curse could pass it. Her master's family's trainer was an excellent trainer, but – much like her master – he was a total narcissist.

Whatever had killed the Pri-Mate came back. Only Harry noticed it at first, and he only noticed because he was looking right at it when it appeared, chittering its dismay incomprehensibly. This thing just looked freaky. Spiky black chitinous armor covered its upper body, which had four arms, the lower pair ending in the nasty scythe blades that had killed Wild-Thing, the upper pair ending in a typical human hand. Some nasty poison glistened on the blades. Harry had no intention of staying to fight it, but he was fascinated by the locals here.

Hang on, he thought, if this world is the less dangerous one, and I just saw that creature slice through bone easily, then I do not want to go to the other world for a long while!

Moving his eyes to its head, he saw red eyes partly hidden by stringy black hair evenly spaced around her head. Harry was stunned at the implications of three hundred and sixty degree vision, and was promptly pleased with himself for hiding. It was supported by four hairy spidery legs jutting out from a spiders abdomen, a nasty looking stinger hanging below it. A bright red Hourglass stood out against the back of the abdomen, easily visible from Harry's perspective.

It was just as visible to the flying bird-woman, who just made another pass over the road. "Master! WIDOW! RUN!"

"A widow? What's a widow?" Bartholomew muttered, proving in the minds of his harem his complete stupidity, opening up something, which proceeded to answer his question verbally.

"Widow, the Run For Your Life Pokegirl," the device began speaking in a monotone. A light lit up on it, one Bartholomew didn't recognize, but the Hyperdoll did. She giggled. They were going to be filmed as they all died! How quaint. It continued, "Recommendation, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! Behold a nightmare made flesh. Widows are the deadliest non-legendary pokegirl in existence, destruction incarnate, rage made flesh. Reward for successful sighting report and getting out alive: 40,000,000 SLC. Reward for confirmed kill: 900,000,000 SLC. RECOMMENDATION: RUN FOR YOUR LIFE, YOU FUCKING MORON!" Bleep bloop. "Error, incapable of connecting to satellite network. Error, incapable of reporting Widow sighting automatically. Bleep bloop."

Even after hearing this, Harry couldn't move. Something was rooting him to the spot. No, not something, someone. Harry had a rather good idea what was doing so.

The widow, however, most certainly could move. It stood up on its hind legs and shot venom from its stinger, venom that flew twenty yards forward and splattered across the fiery Charmelons. She screamed, having heard the warning and turned to look at the road. The acid in the poison made swift work of her, eating through the thin layer of beautiful scales to utterly destroy her internal organs and neck.

Something seemed to snap inside of Bartholomew. Perhaps it was because he knew he was about to die, perhaps it was his sanity. In any event, "Storm! Fly to Titfield Valley! Go!"

"Yes, Master," she whimpered, knowing she'd never see her sisters again.

"Mr. Tamer, if you're still around, you shouldn't be. Only one person has ever killed a Widow one on one! If you're not still around? Pure genius."

Then the Widow moved, a blur that ended in a spray of blood and gore. Bartholomew Blunderghast the Mighty's Harem fell easily, his Hyperdoll knocked unconscious and kicked away, his Blade-bunny sliced in three parts, and his Gravelgal tangled in webs dripping with deadly poisons. Barty himself was stripped naked, and the Widow had him pinned down. It slowly lowered itself onto his dick, then it paused. It screamed in rage and denial at something, then turned to face right at Harry.

Harry still watched, no matter how much he wanted to move."Death, let me move," he muttered.

"We wanted you to see what the people of this world are like."

"Arrogant toerags? That doesn't mean he deserves to die, Death!"

"This character is a little worse than that, he's abusive to his Pokegirls," she responded, "and doesn't see anything wrong with that. His 'girls can't just leave him, because he has top of the line Pokeballs, so they stay until they are killed or he tires of them and trades them."

"And abusive to his pokegirls means what?"

"Think spousal abuse, Harry." He winced. He knew exactly what that was. "Exactly. Nobody liked him, not his family, not his pokegirls, nobody."

Harry shook his head to rid himself of bad memories. "What of the one who was knocked unconscious?"

"She is a Hyperdoll, a sad, unforgivable state of affairs. He ignored her so completely she learned that she doesn't have to care about anything, evolving from a Bimbo and making her tamer's life hell whenever she's let out of her 'ball."

"Okay, everything you've said I don't understand. But still, should I kill this Widow?"

"Yes. Consider this my first task for you. Good luck!"

And Death's presence vanished. Harry found he could move, but he had no idea how far away Titfield Valley was, or how long it would take the flying... Pokegirl, was that right? Pokegirl, then, to make it there, report on the Widow, and make it back with help.

The Hyperdoll stirred and moaned. She knew her master was dead, but there was nothing she could do to rectify that fact his killer was still alive, even if she showed what she truly was. The Widow moved at the moan, knocking the sole remaining pokegirl unconscious once again.

Harry had had enough. He drew his wand in his left hand, Gryffindor's Sword in his right. The widow turned towards him; Harry cast out the Half-Blood Prince's Dark Cutter.

"Sectumsempra!" he whispered, a bleak line of energy flying from his wand. It passed right through its target, the Widow phasing slightly out of reality as it charged. Harry blinked.

A flick of his wrist caused a wall of earth and rock to jut out of the ground in the Widow's path. The Widow leaped over the obstacle, coming down on Harry from above. A sharp crack had Harry elsewhere, now flinging spells with abandon. Ribbon Cutting curses and Blasting Hexes mixed in with other spells, spells that ignored armor. Tripping jinxes, the levitation charm, banishing charms, summoning charms, the works. Whenever the widow got too close, Harry apparated away, reappearing with a soft pop.

This went on for quite a while, without either side gaining an advantage.

Meanwhile, Bartholomew's Thundrix made it to the Town of Titfield Valley and, after confirmation by a psychic-type that there was, indeed, a Widow relatively nearby – twenty miles away – the whole area exploded into action. Not that Titfield Valley truly had the ability to handle a Widow on its own, but they had to do something, even if they only picked up the poor Thundrix' Tamer's remains. Scouts were dispatched nearly immediately by the local leader of the Stockton Legion.

The first responders on the scene of the Widow attack noticed that the area was a mess. Several bloody piles of limbs lay around, one immediately identified as Bartholomew. His pokedex was laying in an outstretched arm, which was not attached to his body. Walls of stone, riven boulders, exploded patches of ground, and many other scars of battle littered the area and trailed off into the distance.

The rest of Bartholomew's 'girls were in bad shape. The Thundrix was alive, having guided the quick reaction force to the area. She was simultaneously pleased with her master's death and saddened by it. The Hyperdoll laying against a boulder had multiple broken bones, but was definitely still alive. The Pri-Mate registered to Bartholomew was dead, her limbs severed from her body, while his Charmelons and Gravelgal appeared to have been melted by Hyper Venom, and his Blade-Bunny was hacked to pieces, only truly identifiable as such because the bladed tail remained intact.

The Captain of the first response team, Samuel Strongarm – named such for the fighting-type 'girls in his ancestry – ordered one of his men to check up on the pokedex. The rest were ordered to split up into groups and follow the eight primary compass coordinates, all pokegirls out, while he went with a ninth group to check up on the devastated trail. So the first response unit was literally everybody on duty at the station at the time. He knew they didn't have the forces to kill a widow, but if they could figure out what caused all this destruction he would be most pleased.

Charred patches of ground, deep cuts into it, more walls of raised rock, patches of ice, areas glassed by powerful lightning strikes, patches where Hyper Venom was still eating away at the grass and dirt, and two locations where Hyper Beam had punched perfect round holes into hills.

It was about then that he started hearing the clang of sword on sword, or rather sword on scythe blade. He, his team, and his 'girls stepped over the top of a hill and looked down at a scene that shocked them utterly.

A human – a normal looking human, without any apparent extra blood-gifts, darted around, exchanging sword blows with a Widow.

With a Widow.

When venom shot out of the Widow's mouth, Captain Strongarm thought it was all over. He was prepared to give the order to run when the venom erupting out of the Widow's mouth met with nothing but air. The man fighting her had teleported to another location! And was currently flinging spells at the Menace! Explosive blasts missed and threw shards of rock up from the ground. Ribbons of slicing energy missed the Widow and shattered those rocks further. As the beast closed, the rocks floated in mid-air, and changed to something else. When the Menace type pokegirl reached the man again, he disappeared in a flash, reappearing on the other side of the debris, which had changed into hundreds of sharp steel blades, ranging in length from three inches to two feet. As the nightmare turned to charge again, the blades were launched forward.

Most clattered off of the deadly spider's carapace. Many of the remaining were deflected by the scythe-blades along its lower arms, or by the carapace protecting the upper arms. A few ended up lodging in a few places, but no serious damage was dealt. Strongarm winced, that attack would have slaughtered most pokegirls, let alone Tamers or Mages. More flickering lights flew from the mage's wand, all of them either missing – due to how fast the Widow moved, not from lack of aim – or splashing on the carapace, from when it dodged one attack right into another. Just before the Widow reached melee range, Strongarm noticed the mage sigh. His wand disappeared, and two swords were held in his hands, strange symbols glowing along the blade of one sword, the other etched with rampant lions and a red-gold hilt.

When the Widow and the Warrior-Mage clashed next sparks flew. The Widow failed to use her upper pair of limbs in any meaningful way, but that didn't stop her from slashing at the pitiful human in front of her, the human the recently arrived Tamers and Military personnel couldn't help without hurting.

"Captain, I can't get a read on him. He's nearly invisible to me psychically," his Ka-D-Bra reported.

"Nearly invisible?"
"Frustration has been leaking out. Beyond that, nothing."

Strongarm looked back at the battle. The Widow got a blow in under the Warrior-mage's guard, and it looked like a shot right at the heart – except it glanced off of his armor, which became visible underneath a relatively normal t-shirt as the Hyper Venom the Widow's blades were coated with went to work on the fragile material of the shirt. It simply ran down the black-green scales of his armor, melting his clothes to reveal more and more armor underneath, until it finally reached the ground.

The Ka-D-Bra started to freak out. "I can make out two symbols tattooed around his eyes that I couldn't see before. One is in black, an Eye of Horus, and the other is in Green, an Ankh. I don't know what it means, but I can feel the power he's putting out, and it's clearly magical power, not psychic. I shouldn't be capable of feeling this!"

"Call everybody here. If he deals with the Widow and he's friendly, fantastic; if he isn't friendly or if he doesn't deal with the Widow, we'll be prepared."

His Alpha nodded and started sending orders. The others had mostly grouped up at the starting point of this mess, and now moved to support the others quickly.

As he turned back to the fight, Strongarm shook his head and sighed. The Widow was building up for a Hyperbeam, and it seemed that the mage was just standing there. No, wait, one hand was blurring, forming glowing symbols in the air. The brilliant white light of the Hyperbeam cast stark shadows, overwhelming the distant Sun with its power, screaming through the air it shattered as it bore down on the black-clad swordsman. His hand punched the symbols glowing in the air in front of him. A coruscating, ravenous stream of utter darkness rampaged forward, devouring the Hyperbeam as it went. The two beams of destructive power came to a halt exactly between the two battling powerhouses, the energies unleashed there tearing up the ground and sending ripples off into the air.

Strongarm looked on in shock. Something had just blocked a Hyperbeam! More to the point, it looked like that devouring darkness wasn't actively being maintained – the spellslinger seemed to be doing something else entirely.

He seemed to be chanting in some incomprehensible language, his swords crossed on his back, his hands waving in front of him. A green-black sword slowly took shape in the air, the energy pouring into it draining power from his counter to a Hyperbeam, which slowly pushed the blackness back. Before it could crush through the shimmering runes powering the dark beam, however, the sword finished, and the mage teleported behind the Widow, his mystical blade silent as it cut through the air – only for it to pass right through the monstrous Pokegirl. The widow had faded out of reality at the last instant! However, doing so forced it to stop powering it's hyperbeam, which promptly faded into nothing. The ravenous black energy shot forwards in response, through the widow, and into the mage's hand, which seemed to power him up a bit. The symbols hanging in the air dissipated.

The Menace staggered and faded back into reality a few meters away from the War Mage, a fist sized hole punched through its chest, right where its heart was.

As the body of the insane pokegirl collapsed, clearly dead, the mighty mage fell to his knees, and the sword in his hands dissipated in black and green smoke. He looked up, took in the group of Tamers and their 'girls, gasped out, "Well, this is when backup usually arrives!" and passed out.

Captain Samuel Strongarm gaped, and so did every single Tamer and Pokegirl watching. His Ka-D-Bra summed everything up for him. "Looks like we should go pick him up and bring him to the Hospital."

"Yeah," her Tamer replied, still shocked that somebody had killed a Widow. Alone. It would take him, and the others, a lot of time to get over that, but there were other actions that needed doing.

"What's the status of that Hyperdoll?"

"She's been 'balled up and taken to the nearest pokecenter for healing."

"And the Thundrix?"

"The same, although she's agreed to questioning."

"How's the pokedex coming?"

"It has a recording of a part of the fight with the widow, both from when it slaughtered that Tamer, Bartholomew Blunderghast, and his harem, and from when that strange mage started fighting it. That section ends when they leave the area."

"What do we classify that man as, anyway?"

"Well, we've got to let the hospital do the blood-work first, and get an interview with him."

"And after all that?"

"We'll see."

"Very good work, thank you, Sienna. Please have everybody report back to Titfield Valley Military Headquarters for a debriefing." He wiped the sweat from his forehead, "What a day... and it isn't even halfway done yet."