Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Pokémon. The only thing I do own is the story idea.

"Talk"

'Think'

"Telepathy"

AN: The much awaited Zoroark meets Harry chapter! Can ya dig it? I am sorry that it took so long though. I went through three versions of this and eventually settled on this one. Hope it meets your expectations and, hey look! More Pokémon!

Chapter 4

Zoroark was worried. It had been a full day and the pulses of energy had stopped. It was true that, by now, she didn't need them, but they helped sooth her frazzled nerves. The energy pulses let her know that the little Zorua was still alive, still whole and healthy and waiting for her. But they had stopped. The energy had stopped and while she would have loved to continue on for a few more hours, she couldn't. Her body felt heavy and weak and Zoroark had to admit to herself that she had done her body wrong…again. Once more, she had gone above and beyond her bodies demand and was paying for it.

"My little Zorua, please be okay," she sent, eyes closed as she begged for just a smidgeon of energy to curl around her, to wrap around her mind and give her hope. None came. Just like a five minutes previous, hell even an hour previous, no energy pulse came. She covered her face with her paws and breathed deeply, fighting to stay calm rather than go off the deep end.

"Zoroark? Is that….you? Celebi did state that you lived and he's not one for lying but…" a voice, female, stated as a tall green colored antelope like Pokémon came from behind several tall, flowering bushes. It had horns, curled into dull points at either side of its head and strange shaped hooves, resembling boots more than anything else.

Zoroark turned, her body crouching low for a fight, before relaxing as the Pokémon before her came into full view, "Virizion," Zoroark greeted, her tone somewhat one of surprise, "I did not realize I was in your part of the forest. I…I am sorry if I disturbed you any."

Virizion shook her head, "This forest hardly belongs to anyone, Zoroark. I…am merely curious though. What has you up and so frantic? I heard your cries from our sleeping area, where the others are."

"I….there were these pulses and….they stopped. I'm in a little bit of distress is all. It felt like…it had to be a Zorua," Zoroark informed as she wrapped her paws around her chest and glance balefully at the ground beneath her. "I was so far away when they started and now they've stopped. I…I don't know what to do. My mind is in shambles."

Virizion didn't answer right away, choosing instead to step closer and give Zoroark some comfort instead. "It is alright Zoroark. We felt them as well, though I suppose not me, Cobalion or Terrakion figured what and who was causing them. It appears sleep has muddled our senses more than I thought," she said lightly as she sighed a little, "But a Pokémon…a new one…a little Zorua as you say, that is something to wake up and make haste for…though not one to destroy oneself over," She added as she took in Zoroark's appearance, from the scruffy unwashed fur to the shaking limbs and haggard appearance. The scrutiny of it all caused a light blush to coat Zoroark's face.

"Come, you may rest with me and the rest of the Sacred Swordsman. We are not one to turn a Pokémon away. Besides, humans have been crawling all over this place for several days. A simple tree hallow won't keep you as protected as it should," Virizion decided as, with a slight nudge from her head, she lead Zoroark deeper into the forest. They walked towards the middle, until a large tree with exposed roots greeted them, surrounded by a shimmering aura. Cobalion was curled up closer to the tree, with Terrakion and Keldio were together, resting. All three were still asleep.

"Plants always listened to me and this tree is…it has a special energy," Virizion explained as Zoroark took rest under an exposed root, close to the dirt. The grass growing there was comfortable and simply laying on it relaxed her immensely. "It keeps us safe, so long as we call it home. While you are here, rest easy. However, when you wake we four might be gone. If what you say is true, then it is time for us to quit our sleeping and make rounds. See what has changed in the world while we rested."

"Of course. You have no reason to wait for me. If you were to find-"Zoroark started, before she was cut off with a kind look from the green Pokémon.

"If we find a little Zorua, we will keep him safe until your arrival, should he need it. However, if you find him, send word if you can. It would be a joyous occasion to meet a new Pokémon after years of only humans and these…other strange creatures," Virizion agreed as she moved to wake the others. "For the moment though, Zoroark, get some rest. I'll leave food out for when you wake."

Curled gently beneath her mane, Zoroark yawned and nodded, feeling strangely comforted by the older, green Pokémon. She idly wondered what would have happened if she hadn't run into Virizion, or if the pulses hadn't stopped and thus caused her to stop. Would she have run passed with nary a backward glance? At any rate, Virizion was right. She truly did need to take better care of herself and the aura surrounded the tree and it's inhabitants made her so comfortable, that sleep came easily. Her dreams were filled with home…and family and a little charcoal face beaming up at her from around an Oran berry.

Harry was up and dressed before Mrs. Weasley came to wake them up the next morning. For some reason, he had felt rather uncomfortable, his skin stretched too tight over his muscle and bones, making it hard to sleep. He felt sore all over, so, sleep wasn't his high priority at that moment, although that didn't seem to matter. Harry felt strangely well rested, despite the little sleep he had gotten. As for Ron and the twins, well, they were still out like a light and snoring…loudly. How he had slept through that was something to think about.

At any rate, while the rest of the boy's rested, Harry practiced, unable to stop himself from doing it for very long. It seemed to help the 'stretched-thin' feeling at any rate and it wasn't like he did much, just hands, arms, feet and legs. His tail formed too, and the sharp teeth. He felt fur growing along his face as well, after a handful of tries, but had to stop when he heard gentle footsteps on the stairs. Quickly reversing what transformations he had managed, and feeling mildly put out at having to quit, he blinked up at Mrs. Weasley as she opened the door.

"Oh! Harry, my goodness. Gave me a bit of a fright. Good to see you up and about though. Excited?" She asked as she moved about the room, gently waking up the rest of her brood.

"Yes Mrs. Weasley," Harry dutifully answered back as he watched Ron groan and flop out of his bed, landing in an undignified heap on the ground.

"Well that's nice. Why don't you head downstairs, all of you after the rest of you get some clothes on, and get some breakfast in you. You'll be leaving soon," She replied as she left to wake the girls. Harry moved quickly, pawing his shoes out from under the bed and leaving while the Ron, Fred and George still looked like zombies.

Harry met Mr. Weasley downstairs, the man dressed something like a strange golfer but it was pretty muggle still and he had a feeling it was as good as Mr. Weasley was gonna get. Sitting down at the table, Harry pulled a bowl towards him and ladled porridge into it, stirring in cream and apples for flavor. "So, how are we getting to the World Cup?" he asked as he swallowed down a bite.

"Well," Started Mr. Weasley as he made himself up a cup of tea, "We'll be taking a portkey, considering the lot of you are too young to apparate just yet and side along would be too much of a bother really."

"Oh…" Harry said as he wrinkled his nose a bit. He knew what Apparation was, and it was something he wanted to learn for himself, but he pretty much knew nothing about it other than you disappeared from one place and appeared in another.

George, bleary eyed and still very much half-asleep, stumbled into the kitchen then. He fell into a seat and yawned, "Where are the o-o-other's then? Percy and Charlie and B-Bill?" He asked as he blinked stupidly down at a plate of food, before starting in on it. He seemed to wake up a bit more after a few bites.

"Well, they've got their licenses, so they're apparating over later. Having a bit of a lie-in, them," Mrs. Weasley informed as she put a plate piled high with bacon onto the table and watched with fondness as it disappeared into the mouths of her children. She blinked then, before sighing and heading upstairs, "Where HAVE those girls gotten to…"

"Lucky," Fred grumbled from beside his twin as he nibbled on a bit of toast, folded in hold to hold sausages. "I wouldn't mind having a lie-in. It's too early…"

"So," said Harry, quickly changing the topic of sleeping a bit more, to something he was actually curious about, "What are portkey's?"

Mr. Weasley blinked at the question, "Blimy, kind of forgot-not that it matters, but portkeys can be just about anything," he answered as he adjusted his classes and smiled kindly at Harry, "Usually something muggles won't want to pick up. A punctured football, a discarded can of coke, things like that. They act as an almost instantaneous bit of transportation from one place to another."

Harry had a blank look on his face as he mulled over the information, before he nodded his head, understanding entering his eyes, "What happens if a muggle does pick it up though? Would they be transported as well?"

"Not really," Mr. Weasley responded, generally happy to be answering such questions. His children seemed bored when he went on little conversations like these, always eager to leave and play outside, although he didn't begrudge them that. They were just children. "The portkey utilizes the magic of the witch or wizard to activate the spells placed upon it. There's magic in the object of course, so if no one is touching it, it'll disappear by itself to the arranged place, but the act of taking people with it…that needs magic of the user. Any muggles, unless with a witch or wizard grasping them, will simply be left behind when the portkey activates and leaves to the prearranged place."

"That's…rather cool. How does one-," Harry started, before being interrupted as Mrs. Weasley came stomping downstairs, the girls following close behind. None of them looked much better than the boys and sleepily started in on some toast.

"Now, now, none of that Arthur, I know how you get on those topics," Mrs. Weasley said fondly, "Now, you'd best be off now, or you'll be late for the portkey, you have a bit of a walk to do. And don't look at me like that girls. If you had woken up a bit earlier, you would have been able to eat in peace," She stated as she grabbed napkins and filled them with a couple of sandwiches made from the toast, bacon and sausage. She wrapped them up and handed one to each girl. "You can eat on the way there. You have everything Arthur?"

"Course Molly dear, bags are by the door," he answered as he leaned down to give her a peck on the cheek. "We'll see you in a few days."

As they made for the door, there was a bit of a ruckus with the Twins and Molly, something about Toffee's and them being hidden in the seams of Fred and George's clothing, but that didn't last long and soon, backpacks in place, they made their way out of the Weasley home and down a sloping, twisting lane towards the village.

The morning was quiet, still dark as not even the sun had graced the sky with its presence. Most of them saved their breath for the trek ahead, but Harry was full of energy. He bounded ahead, circling back on occasion to talk with either Mr. Weasley or to draw Ron and Hermione into a conversation. As they walked, the sky slowly lightened from dewy black of night to a seamless pale blue. Mr. Weasley checked his watch now and then and, once they came upon Stoatshead Hill, all conversation ceased in favor of making the hilly climb.

Harry lost track of where they were for a moment, finding it more amusing to count the numerous rabbit holes that threatened to sprain unsuspecting ankles and even chase after a few rabbits. He could hear Mr. Weasley chuckling at his actions after the third time and, feeling a little embarrassed at his behavior, he jogged back and kept pace, humming under his breath as the crested the hill after a good ten minutes of climbing.

Hermione gasped, hands clutching at her side and looked rather weary, and perhaps a little ill. No doubt the sandwich was not settling well on her stomach after such a climb.

"You alright Hermione?" He asked, concerned for his friend who merely smiled back and waved a hand, obviously too out of breath to answer properly.

"Whew," Muttered Mr. Weasley as he mopped at his balding head with a bit of cloth, "We've actually made decent time. Got a good ten minutes. Why don't we all spread out and search for the blasted thing, hm? Shouldn't be anything big, but litter of some sort."

The spread out, but no sooner had they started when two people crested the hill, their bodies silhouetted against the dawning of the day, "Hello Arthur! Had a bit of a hike did you? Cedric and I lived pretty close by, so I suppose we were a bit lucky. Good lord, are these all yours?" Said the man rather quickly. Harry, who had been on his hands and knees looking through the roots of a dilapidated tree, stood quickly. He knew one of the tall figures, Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff Seeker and a pretty decent guy, so he had heard at any rate. That had to mean that the other man was his father, or uncle? Probably father, the likeness between the two was too great to be an uncle.

"Amos! It's good to see you as well," Mr. Weasley said with a grin as he shook hands with the eager man, "No, not all of them. Just the red heads. This here is Hermione Granger," He said as he motioned towards the non-red haired girl, "And this is Harry Potter. Both friends of my youngest son, Ronald."

"Blimy…Harry Potter, I can't-"Started Amos, before Mr. Weasley gently interrupted the other man.

"Sorry Amos, but we need to hurry and find that portkey. Perhaps…" The man stated as he looked about the hill.

"Oh, right of course. Come on Cedric, let's give it a look." Amos stated with a firm nod as they left the group of redheads to search the hill. The portkey was quickly found by one of the Diggory's, a rancid looking old boot and they all clustered around it.

"Alright, just put a finger on it, okay? Then when it leaves it'll take us all with it," Mr. Weasley stated as they stood around the boot. Harry was hit with the hilarious image of someone walking in on them, but managed to shove it down in favor of paying attention to the boot in front of him. "3 seconds. Hold on everyone!" Mr. Weasley said joyfully as, with a hooking sensation in his gut, Harry was lifted off his feet and sent spinning elsewhere.

Seconds later, Harry's feet hit the ground and he crumbled, the others falling onto him with groans, all save for Cedric, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory, all of whom seemed to somehow keep to their feet.

"Seven past five from Stoathead Hill," said a voice from behind them.

Muttering darkly under his breath, Harry pulled himself away from the dog pile of people and managed to get to his feet, dusting himself off as he watched Mr. Weasley greet strangely dressed men. One was dressed in a kilt and a poncho. Out of everything, Harry was wondering where these people got the idea that THAT was normal for muggles to wear. At least the other man was wearing something somewhat normal, even if no one would ever pair a tweed suit with thigh high goulashes.

After a bit of small talk, Mr. Weasley and the man in the poncho got down to business and they were sent on their way, towards the first field and a man named Mr. Robert. There was a bit of a problem with the money, which Harry helped sort out, a bit of oblivation from a another wizard due to Mr. Robert questioning a bit more than they liked and they were sent on their way once more, trekking through tents and pitiful fires to the campground Mr. Weasley had booked them earlier. The farther they moved away from Mr. Roberts, the more extravagant the tents became. Harry was completed dumfounded on why someone would want peacocks strutting about the front of their tent! Although he had to admit, they were lovely to look at.

"Can't help ourselves really," Mr. Weasley said as he spotted Harry, and even Hermione's, dumbfounded looks. "When we gather like this, we like to show off a bit. Makes a mess of things for the authorities, but I digress, even they can't help it either."

They didn't stop until they reached the edge of the woods, atop a field in which a single, crossed bit of wood had been hammered into the dirt, misspelling the Weasley name quite badly. Shrugging off his bag, Mr. Weasley pulled out what looked like a rumpled bit of cloth, poles and stakes.

"Now, ain't this a perfect spot? We're close to the Pitch and a decent bit away from noisy neighbors. Right perfect here," Mr. Weasley said as he stared around their campground, before glancing back down at the crumbled form of two tents. "We're not allowed to use magic here, strictly speaking and all, but that's alright. Muggles do this all the time. Where do you think we should start?"

Harry, who had never gone camping in his life, the onetime Dudley demanded to camp he'd been sent to stay with Mrs. Figg and all her annoying cats, stared blankly back at Mr. Weasley. "Wel…er…I suppose…" he started.

"Oh give it here Mr. Weasley," Hermione said as she started taking control of the situation, "My family and I have gone camping a few times. Shouldn't be too hard to put this up to sorts," she added as she separated the different sized poles and started to piece together the tents, taking care to make sure that each tent had the right number of poles.

Mr. Weasley tried to help, though he was more of a hindrance than anything and Fred and George managed helpful tidbits here and there until Mr. Weasley turned to his children and gave a brief grin. "Would you lot be a dear and search the forest for some dead wood? Small bits, sticks and the like. It just occurred to me that I brought large pieces and it'll be difficult to get a fire going with those."

"Can't we just use magic for that?" Ron asked, frowning a little at his father's request. "I mean, shrink some of the wood a bit or spell fire on there."

"I could, but I think it would be wonderful to get a fire started the old muggle way!" Mr. Weasley replied cheerfully, "Off you trot then, and don't wander too far, alright? The faster you get back with the wood, the faster I can get us some tea going."

They were waved off, Mr. Weasley ignoring Ron's whines the practice a man could only get after fathering five other children, and entered the forest just as many of the other campers were waking from their own bout of slumber.

"Can't believe he's doing this the muggle way," Ron grumbled as he stooped low and snagged a few branches off the forest floor. He snapped them, checking their insides for a green tinge and was pleased that the color was absent. Green wood wasn't good for burning, it made an exceptionally smoky fire.

"I think its okay. I mean, it takes a little longer, but the reward of getting it started would be better," Harry replied as he ignored the smaller sticks and went searching for something thicker than a toothpick.

"Yeah…I guess. Dad did seem pretty happy at the thought," Ron muttered as he kept his eyes peeled to the forest floor. "Hey, why don't we split up a bit? That way we can collect everything a bit faster," He said as he looked up at Harry, who had one measly stick in his palm.

"Yeah alright. Would be better at any rate, considering you're picking up all the wood here mate," Harry agreed with a bit of a grin, "I'll head a bit farther into the forest, see what I can pick up. Meet you in, well, 20?"

"Yeah that's fine."

"Good, see ya in a bit Ron," Harry stated as he turned away from his friend and went down a small, slight path. It was obviously made from animals, deer perhaps, but it made it easier to venture deeper into the forest. As per Mr. Weasley's request, Harry picked up wood here and there, grabbed the dead, thicker pieces to be used after kindling.

He ended up walking a bit deeper than he had meant to, lost in thought, practicing a bit of his animagus form to see a little better in the dim lighting and picking up bits of wood caused him to not pay attention to his surroundings. So it was understandable when Harry came face to snout with a dark gray beast with crimson-rimmed aquamarine eyes that he screamed.

EverD: Okay, so technically, Harry met Zoroark, but there was no interaction. I can understand that might upset a few people, but it was either write more or save it for the next chapter. Considering this took so long (and went through several versions) to complete, I just wanted to get it up. I hope you all enjoyed it anyway.