This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.


"Harry. Ron. What's going on?" Percy stepped forward from the crowd and then stopped, his eyes wide as they took in the prone form of Mrs Norris and then the forbidding writing on the wall.

"Someone get Professor Dumbledore," he said tersely. No one moved. "Now!" he snapped. A girl around Percy's age, wearing a blue Ravenclaw tie, hurried through the crowd and back the way they'd just come.

No one moved as they waited for Professor Dumbledore. It almost seemed as though no one was willing to even breath. The silence was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps as the Ravenclaw girl returned, leading a line of worried looking professors and, most importantly of all, Dumbledore.

"No," a strangled cry came from Argus Filch as he rushed forward, pushing Harry, Ron and Hermione out of the way as he cradled the now silent Mrs Norris in his arms.

"Argus," Dumbledore said softly. He kneeled down across from the distraught man. "Argus, I need you to let go," he said, his voice calm and gentle. "We can not hope to treat Mrs Norris unless we are able to properly examine her. I know this is tough, but I beg you to let go."

Harry had never before felt pity for Argus Filch until that moment as he cradled his precious partner in his arms and, heart wrenchingly, lay her gently on the floor. Madam Pomfrey quickly hurried over and started checking on the Glameow.

"What are you all staring at?" Filch snapped suddenly, glowering out at the crowd that had not moved since the incident. "Get lost the lot of ya."

"All students should return to their common rooms," Dumbledore said firmly. "Your heads of house will escort you." Dumbledore met Harry's eyes and, without having to be told, Harry knew that he, Ron and Hermione were to stay.

"How is she?" Filch asked emotionally after some time. Madam Pomfrey had been examining Mrs Norris in near silence for quite a while and her face, a blank professional mask, gave no indication of what she thought. Madam Pomfrey let out a sigh.

"She'll live," she said eventually. "But the road to recovery won't be easy. Had she not been found straight away she'd be in dire straights but fortunately…" she let out a sigh. "We'll need to move her to the Hospital Wing," she announced.

"I'll do it," Filch said and he gently gathered his Pokémon up in his arms, taking more care than Harry thought a man like Filch could as he followed Madam Pomfrey away from the scene, leaving only Dumbledore, Harry, Ron and Hermione behind.

Dumbledore sighed. "A terrible occasion," he admitted tiredly, removing his glasses and wiping them clean with his beard. "Terrible." He replaced his spectacles. "Now, Harry, I understand that it was you three who found Mrs Norris?"

Harry nodded.

"May I ask what you were doing out here? This isn't a route back to the Gryffindor Common Room." Dumbledore's tone wasn't accusatory. Still, Harry hesitated to answer.

"I, uh, left the feast early," he admitted awkwardly.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "I saw that." Harry guessed his exit wasn't as discrete as he would have liked it to be.

"Well, uh, I was a bit emotional and I wasn't really looking where I was going and I found myself here," he explained. "I heard Mrs Norris from the other corridor and that's when we found her."

Dumbledore nodded. "And you saw no sign of who might have perpetrated this crime?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "There was no one here when we got here." He hesitated. "But Professor, could it be… I mean, the poisoning…"

"I do not believe this was Voldemort," Dumbledore said, correctly guessing what Harry had been trying to say. "No, the poisoning did not come about in the same way as how you described Voldemort approached his victims." Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I believe the perpetrator we're looking for is a poison type Pokémon, certainly, with fangs."

"Fangs, sir?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Mrs Norris had physical wounds, punctures that are consistent with large teeth of some sort," Dumbledore told him. "Had it been Voldemort there likely would have been no outward sign of physical damage. That is not to say that Voldemort wasn't involved, however," Dumbledore warned him.

"I will escort you back to your common room," he said eventually. "I advise you be careful over the next few days. It wouldn't be a good idea to travel anywhere alone until the person responsible for this is caught."

Dumbledore did as he promised he would, escorting Harry, Ron and Hermione up to the Gryffindor Common Room. When he got there he made a small announcement to tell them that Mrs Norris would recover and bid them goodnight, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione the focus of the attention.

No one approached them though, no one asked what had happened. There almost seemed an accusatory tone to their looks as they kept their eye on them.

It was an uncomfortable evening for the trio, and they each decided to head up to their dormitories far earlier than usual. What the rest of Gryffindor house thought, they could only guess, but suddenly the three of them felt very alone.


Over the coming week the sudden attitude change of Gryffindor house continued, and was reflected by the rest of the student body. Not much was known about what had happened to Mrs Norris on Halloween but one of the few facts that had come out was that Harry, Ron and Hermione had been the first ones there. From that point on it was all unfounded rumours and wild conjecture.

For more than once in his time at Hogwarts Harry was monumentally grateful for his time spent on the Quidditch field. Gryffindor played Slytherin exactly one week after Halloween and Oliver Wood, acting like a man possessed, had his team training whenever he could get the pitch booked.

At practice Harry was no longer the outcast of the school. Fred and George, who couldn't stay serious if you paid them, thought the idea that Harry could have anything to do with the attack on Mrs Norris was ludicrous, and spent most of the time comically cowering away from Harry in fear or following his every move like a pair of faithful servants, depending on whatever mood struck them on any given day.

Oliver Wood, meanwhile, was so driven to beat Slytherin on Saturday that it was almost as though he'd missed what had happened on Halloween completely. He treated Harry no differently and, for once, Harry was glad that Wood was such a Quidditch fanatic, even if it meant a lot of extra training.

If only the rest of the school had reacted the same way. Usually a Gryffindor-Slytherin match would have been met with much anticipation and excitement over the days preceding it, now it was barely mentioned in the corridors.

What was perhaps even worse than the way the school had unanimously seemed to have decided that they were guilty was the way Gilderoy Lockhart was milking the tragedy.

The first fifteen minutes of their first Pokémon Battling class after Halloween had been devoted to Lockhart heroically blaming himself for having left the castle that night, claiming that had he been at Hogwarts he could have saved the poor Pokémon and that the perpetrator, for Lockhart at least didn't seem to suspect Harry, had obviously waited for him to leave the castle in order to act.

Ron had a few rather uncomplimentary things to say about that and unfortunately for him happened to say them whilst Professor McGonagall was passing by, earning himself a night of detention and a letter home to his mother reporting his 'foul language'.

Hermione just remained quiet.

But, finally, the day before the Quidditch match arrived and the school started to return somewhat to normal. The excitement of a good, well contested Quidditch match seemed just what they needed in light of this terrible event and the fact that days passed without anything else untoward happening meant that the student body were, slowly but surely, getting back to normal.

"Ready, Harry? The big day's here, are you nervous?" Ron asked, his voice bubbling with excitement. He, Harry and Hermione were walking down from the Gryffindor Common Room on the morning of the match and so far the nerves hadn't really set in.

"Not really," he admitted. "I was much more nervous last year. I mean, Malfoy is the new guy this time. I bet he'll be the one who's nervous."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hermione warned. "We all know how self-confident Malfoy is." That was true. "And besides, I can bet you he's been practicing really hard, he really wants to beat you."

"I heard that he's got his own Quidditch pitch at home," Ron said with a look of distaste.

"Won't matter if he hasn't got anyone to practice against," Harry replied confidently. It was true, Harry attributed a lot of his ability on the Quidditch pitch to the countless occasions he and Fletchinder had gone up against Wood's Pelipper. Only by experiencing a proper chase could you learn the subtleties of Seeking.

They were down to the third floor and preparing to descend to the floor below when a voice that Harry really didn't want to have to deal with today made itself heard.

"Harry!" Gilderoy Lockhart was sweeping down the hallway towards them, a beaming smile on his face and his Hawlucha perched on his shoulder. "There you are!"

"Do you think he's seen me yet?" Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione. Despite the scowl on his face Ron sniggered.

"Ah, Harry, ready for the big game I take it?" Lockhart said jovially. "I bet you're filled with nerves right now?"

"Eh, no," Harry replied simply.

Lockhart laughed. "Ah, that's the spirit, Harry," he said, ruffling Harry's hair. Harry felt the distinct urge to hit him. "You may just be starting out but you don't need to put a brave face on in front of me. I myself used to play Seeker in my younger years, Hawlucha and I were unbeatable." Hawlucha flexed his muscles on Lockhart's shoulder.

"How?" Harry asked, watching Hawlucha doubtfully.

Lockhart chuckled. "That's what my opponents would say," he told him, tapping his nose and winking. "We even got a call from the England Quidditch Association, wanting me to play for them, but instead I chose to devote my life to fighting injustice and defending innocent lives."

"Right," Harry said, not believing a word of it. "Well, I need to be going now, so…" he tailed off, hoping Lockhart would get the hint.

"Perhaps you'd like me to accompany you," Lockhart said cheerfully. "I'm always happy to pass on my experience to worthy trainers."

"He said no," Ron bit out. Had he said this to any other professor he'd probably have lost Gryffindor fifty points and been stuck in detention for the whole of next week. As it was Lockhart was the exception.

"I think I just need time to myself," Harry said. "You know, to prepare."

"Ah, of course, every player worth his salt has to have a process," Lockhart said, nodding his head wisely. "I'll let you go then. Of course as a professor I've get to stay neutral," Lockhart gave Harry a conspiratorial wink. "But I'm sure no one will mind a bit of enthusiastic support for a bright young prospect. And if you ever need some tips feel free to visit my office."

Lockhart, mercifully, left after that, sweeping down the corridor with the air of a man happily oblivious to all trouble and strife.

"What a twat," Ron muttered angrily. "Who does he think he is suggesting Harry can get tips from him. I bet that Hawlucha hasn't played Seeker in his life."

"It does seem unlikely," Hermione admitted. Her attitude towards Lockhart had changed noticeably since learning what had been bothering Harry on Halloween. Harry hadn't told either of them outright but they'd got enough of an idea to know that Lockhart had done something unforgivable to him, and both Ron and Hermione were going to stand by their friend over their teacher if push came to shove.

"Let's just leave it," Harry said, weary of having to deal with Lockhart. The man was tiresome. Harry had given up on the anger that had filled him on Halloween but there was still a lot of lingering resentment towards the man and any benefit of the doubt Harry had been willing to allow him was long gone.

"Yes, we should get down to the pitch," Hermione said quickly. "It's almost time for the match, we'll want to get down there for the best seats."

"You're right," Ron agreed.

"I'll see you after the match," Harry told them. "I'm going to take Fletchinder to Madam Pomfrey for a last minute checkup." He pulled a Pokéball from his belt. "Take Charmander with you, he'll want to watch."

The trio said their goodbyes and split up, Ron and Hermione heading the same way Lockhart had gone whilst Harry headed in the opposite direction, making his way along the corridor towards the Hospital Wing.

"Fletchinder is in fine condition, Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey announced after a cursory examination. It was something that Wood had suggested for the whole team before the match, the Gryffindor Captain wanting everything to be perfect in preparation for taking on Slytherin.

So far the rest of the team were nowhere to be seen, making Harry guess that they'd already been and went. A quick glance at the clock told him that the delay caused by Professor Lockhart meant that he was pushing it a bit for time and, knowing the way Wood had been recently, Harry quickly returned Fletchinder and hurried out of the Hospital Wing.

He'd descended one floor and walked along another corridor before he found his path blocked.

Standing in his path, eerily reminiscent of the scene one week ago, was an Absol. And if Harry had to bet he'd say it was the same Absol that he'd seen with Ron and Hermione last time.

He pulled out his Pokédex.

"Absol," the Pokédex said, "the Disaster Pokémon." A sudden shock jumped through Harry as he looked up at the snow white Pokémon. "Every time Absol appears before people it is followed by a disaster such as an earthquake or a tidal wave. As a result it came to be known as the disaster Pokémon."

"Disaster Pokémon," Harry muttered under his breath. His eyes met Absol's and he had the distinct feeling that the Pokémon was trying to tell him something. But what he couldn't make out.

A sudden noise from behind Harry caused him to jump and turn around. He immediately turned back as he heard Absol let out a low murmur of surprise. The Pokémon gave Harry one last look before it fled.

"Wait!" Harry called but it was too late. Just like last time Absol had disappeared without a trace.

"Blimey Harry, what are you still doing here?" The noise made itself known as Fred and George rounded the corner, looking in quite a hurry.

"What are you still doing here?" Harry countered. The game was going to start soon and it seemed nearly half of the Gryffindor team weren't even in the stadium.

"No time," George said simply and the two of them rushed forward, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and rushing him down the corridor.

"Guys, what?" Harry spluttered, trying to avoid tripping over his own feet as he was dragged along. "Calm down!"

"Can't do that, I'm afraid, Harry," Fred said seriously. "If we don't get down to the pitch in time Wood will kill us. And then we'll definitely lose the match." That Harry could agree with and so he didn't complain as the Weasley twins rushed him forwards, although the stairs presented quite a challenge, and out onto the lawn.

As he was hurrying to the Quidditch pitch Harry's mind wandered back to the incident in the corridor. Was Absol going to bring disaster upon him? Last time they'd seen him Mrs Norris had been attacked later that very same day, would that happen again? Or was it to do with Quidditch, was Fletchinder in danger?

"Where have you been!?" Wood roared as Fred, George and Harry rushed through the door to the changing room, panting. "The match was due to start five minutes ago. Madam Hooch almost called it off, do you realise what would have happened then?"

"We would have forfeited the match," Angelina said coolly, glaring at the three boys almost as angrily as Wood was.

"Sorry Oliver," Harry said, the twins looking guilty too. He still wasn't sure why the twins had still been in the castle but since he had been too he found he couldn't judge.

Oliver grunted. "You better have the best damn game of your lives," he threatened them before turning and leaving the changing room, his team hurrying to follow on after him.

A huge cheer rose up from the stands as the Gryffindor team stepped out into the sunlight. Most of the school seemed to be routing for them, the Slytherin team always considered the most unpopular of the Hogwarts' teams, especially now that it had been leaked that Lucius Malfoy had supplied them with new Pokémon.

Harry joined the end of the Gryffindor line as they shook hands with the Slytherin team and Harry was surprised when none of them attempted to crush his hand. He guessed they were just so confident they didn't need any intimidatory tactics. Malfoy's smirk certainly leant credit to that argument.

"Pokémon out!" Madam Hooch called, the two teams releasing their Pokémon for the match. It was the first time Harry had seen the Vigoroth and Slaking since their encounter during their first practice of the season and, as he floated up into the air to his position, he could tell that they'd only got stronger.

"On my whistle! Three! Two! One!" And the game had begun.

"And here we go, Gryffindor versus Slytherin," Lee Jordan's magnified voice floated over the pitch. "We had a bit of a delay with the Gryffindor team for… unknown reasons." Harry wondered if Lee Jordan had an idea as to why Fred and George were late. "But they are all here and ready and that's what matters. Slytherin in possession, with their Vigoroth, unusual for a team to all catch the same Pokémon." The sarcasm in his voice was clear. "And Slytherin have scored."

Harry watched the game with a sinking feeling. While the Gryffindor team were good - the best, in Harry's opinion - they were no match for the Vigoroth who tore through them without mercy, working seamlessly as a team and never once letting the Gryffindor players get into rhythm.

"Night Shade!" Harry looked up in surprise just in time to see Fletchinder struck by an attack, the dark beam crashing straight into the unsuspecting Pokémon's chest.

"What's this!" Lee Jordan shouted as all attention was drawn to the Seekers. "Malfoy's Murkrow has launched an attack on Potter's Fletchinder! This is highly unusual."

That was an understatement. Harry new the rules and the Seekers were allowed to attack each other at any time. The thing was that it was generally accepted in the game that the Seekers wouldn't attack until the Snitch appeared, for both sportsmanship reasons as well as the fact that tiring out your Pokémon before the Snitch appears was usually a bad strategy.

"Fletchinder, dodge," Harry called as Malfoy ordered another Night Shade attack. He knew why Malfoy was doing this, Hermione had warned him. With Murkrow's Super Luck ability just one hit could prove decisive and it was clear that Malfoy was trying to take Harry out of the game before the Snitch was even released.

Well, two could play at that game.

"Fletchinder, Flame Charge!" Harry called and Fletchinder launched into an attack, striking the unsuspecting Murkrow with a clean blow before it had time to compose itself.

And so the battle raged on. Fletchinder and Murkrow continued to throw themselves at each other, more or less forgetting about the Snitch, while down below Wood and the others were left to deal with the Vigoroth.

The game wasn't going well for Gryffindor. The Vigoroth were simply too good and though the Gryffindor Chasers were doing their best they were simply being overwhelmed by Vigoroth's endless energy. Fred and George's Kecleon were finding it hard to have any impact on the game and only Wood's Snorlax was keeping them in it. But the score was still mounting up in Slytherin's favour.

Up above the game below the battle had become tactical. Like Murkrow Fletchinder had a special ability that could prove decisive, in his case Flame Body which had the potential to cause a burn upon physical contact. It had won Harry a match last year and Malfoy was well aware of this, keeping Murkrow at a distance and firing off only with long range special attacks. As a result the two Pokémon were at a stalemate, and that wasn't good enough for Harry.

"Fletchinder, fly down into the Chasers!" Harry called, trying to shake things up. Fletchinder obeyed without question, dodging a Dark Pulse and swooping down into the action, deftly dodging all kinds of arms, legs, claws and jaws as he evaded Murkrow.

"That'll be a penalty to Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan announced. "Fletchinder's dive has fooled Murkrow into hitting a Chaser with an attack and that'll be a free chance from the penalty line to be taken by Lopunny!"

The Gryffindor Chasers looked in no hurry to take this quickly, taking advantage of whatever rest they had, but Madam Hooch was more than wise to their attempts and called them to be quick in continuing the game.

"And Lopunny puts it away! Gryffindor forty, Slytherin ninety!" It clearly pained Lee Jordan to say the scoreline as Slytherin immediately came back the other way, needing no time to rest as they swarmed forward.

"Fletchinder, back up!" Harry called. The Vigoroth had attempted a few cheeky swipes at him in the few minutes he'd been flying in among them and Harry decided that it would be a good idea to get him out of there and take his chances with Murkrow before any of the attempts connected.

"Tired, Potter!" Malfoy shouted across the pitch to him, smirking broadly. He had held off the attacks for the moment, evidently wanting to take the opportunity to gloat. "My, where's that Gryffindor pride?!"

And that's when Harry saw it, the tiniest glint of gold in the corner of his eye. Malfoy, Harry saw, was oblivious, but that would change as soon as the crowd took notice and started screaming. Harry thought quick.

"Fletchinder, Flame Charge!" Harry called, sending his Pokémon flying forward. Murkrow dodged, avoiding the attack with ease before turning to prepare a counter attack. Except Fletchinder wasn't there. By the time either Malfoy or Murkrow had realised what was going on Fletchinder was already over halfway to the Snitch. He plucked the ring off with practiced ease and flew back to Harry.

"Murkrow, Dark Pulse!"

Fletchinder reached Harry just in time, dropping the Snitch on the Gryffindor pole triumphantly, before Murkrow's attack slammed him in the back.

"Fletchinder!" Harry shouted, quickly adjusting the controls to lower his balloon to the ground. Below him Fletchinder was lying motionless on the grass and the rest of the Gryffindor team were hurrying over, concerned looks on their faces.

As the balloon took an age to reach the ground Harry's mind flashed with horrible thoughts of what might await him. Unbidden the image of the disaster Pokémon, Absol, rose to the surface of his mind and he shivered in fear at the thought of what that could mean for his Pokémon.

He jumped out of the balloon long before it hit the ground, stumbling slightly but hurrying over to where his teammates were huddled, both people and Pokémon forming a circle around where Fletchinder had fallen.

"Fletchinder!" Harry called as he pushed through his teammates to reach him. His heart froze when he saw that Fletchinder had not moved since landing. "Fletchinder! Are you alright?!"

Fletchinder's head turned weakly in his direction and his eyes opened. "Fletch," he muttered, staggering up to his feet and flexing out his wings experimentally. "Fletchinder!" he cried triumphantly as he stood up proudly and Harry, overcome with relief, threw his arms around his Pokémon.

"You were brilliant, Fletchinder," Harry murmured as he held the Pokémon close, trying to calm his racing heart. "Absolutely brilliant."

He felt Fletchinder place a wing on his back and he pulled away slightly. The look in Fletchinder's eyes was one he had seen many times before, and he had gotten used to it as part of his Pokémon's personality. It was a look of steely determination, and Harry knew that Fletchinder would never give anything less than what he'd shown today.

It was enough to make any trainer proud.