Author's Note: On May 28th, at around 11:58 am, my beloved mother departed from this world. Even as I type these words I feel myself tearing up, so I will make this quick. It has been 3 weeks since the worst day of my life and I am finally beginning to get back to what 'normal' is for me. I thank all of you for waiting for this next chapter and I hope you enjoy it. I can not promise, at this moment, that updates will be as quick as they once were, but I will begin moving in that direction. Thank you all who prayed for my family... thank you from the bottom of my heart.
"Well... that was a waste of time," Harry grumbled as he hurried down the steps that led to the shortest tower at Hogwarts. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw both got towers while Slytherin and Hufflepuff had deep chambers or 'dungeons' as some students called them. The tallest tower was reserved for the astronomy class, led by Professor Sinistra, while the Gryffs and Claws got the next two towers, both equal in height. The final tower, the smallest and most cramped of all four, saw its highest room serve as the domain of Prof. Trelawney and her 'Pokemon Mystical Arts' class.
Harry had been rather excited for that class and had happily signed up. Remus was still tracking down the books they needed to begin his Pokemagnus studies (stating every time Harry asked that they were going to go about his lessons the right way and not wing it like Remus had with Harry's father, Sirius, and Peter) and Harry had promised not to attempt Speaking until Remus found a teacher (something Harry felt was unlikely to happen, due in part to Remus' concerns about the long lost Art). Prof. Trelawney's class promised to 'open the minds of all students and let them discover the magic and mystery of Pokemon'. Harry, Ron, and Neville had all gleefully signed up; Hermione had also joined them but only to see if she wanted to go with that class or stay with Ancient Languages, one of the other electives that was offered to Third Years. From the pale color of her skin Harry could see that it wasn't that much of a difficult decision.
"Are you ok?" Harry asked, growing concerned when Hermione stumbled slightly and nearly fell down the stairs. Neville and Harry quickly reached out and steadied her, making sure the girl didn't take a header. Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, coughing into it violently.
"Sorry... but Prof. Trelawney-"
"It was like looking into the future right?" Ron asked. Hermione snapped her head towards him, glaring at the redhead who was now holding his hands up. "I'm just saying... bushy hair, big thick nerd glasses, yammers on about things no one understands..." Seeing the looks he was getting Ron quickly shoves his hands into his pockets. "I'll just be quiet now."
"...are you sure you're ok, Hermione?" Neville asked.
The young teen nodded. "Yes, thank you. All that incense and smoke and perfume just gave me a raging headache."
"I know what you mean," Neville said, rubbing his itchy eyes. He'd been doing that since Trelawney had begun to take role. Harry didn't blame him or Hermione either; Trelawney's classroom seemed to have a permanent cloud of smoke and deodorizer forever hanging about. Harry didn't know how the Nosepass that she had guarding her door stood it. "I spend my summers tending to the Longbottom Venasaurs and they release huge clouds of pollen. I built up a tolerance to most flowery things... but all those allergens are nothing compared to Prof. Trelawney's classroom."
"I wouldn't have minded it if she had actually taught us something," Harry complained. "I mean I don't think she said a single word the entire time we were in there that made sense. She didn't talk about Speaking or Veelas or Pokemagnuses or anything!" Harry threw up his arms in frustration. "At least with Lockhart you could maybe learn something... she never even gave us a chance! All she talked about was opening your inner eye and the 'mysteries of lfe'. What does that even mean?!"
"To... open your eyes? To seek out life and its... mysterious... mystery... mysteries?" Ron ventured. Once more his freinds stared at him and once more he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Just saying..."
"And what was with her predicting my death?" Harry complained. "What kind of professor looks at a 13 year old and tells them they are going to die a beautifully tragic death by the end of the term?!"
"I think she said it was going to be tragically beautiful," Hermione said, rubbing her temples. "But you have a point. I think I will just stick with Ancient Languages."
"Not me!" Ron said with a grin. "She gave us all As just for sitting there... that class is going to be a cake walk!"
"Is that all you care about?" Hermione asked, glaring at the red-head. "That it was an easy class? We are suppose to be here to learn and become better trainers and prepare for our futures! How can you even begin to do that if all you are focused on is getting the easiest grade you can get?"
"I won't have a future if I don't pull any As," Ron pointed out. "You know what the likelihood of getting a job out of Hogwarts is if you don't have a single A on your record? Zilch. And I'm not like Crabbe or Goyle who can rely upon their fathers or their buddy Draco to get them something to pay the bills... I am going to need to fight with everything I got to make it in this region."
"But isn't that the point?" Hermione shot back. "You need to get the best education you can get if you want to compete."
"I won't be able to compete if everyone tosses my resume away! Prof. Trelawney's class is my best hope."
"He has a point," Neville admitted. He quickly threw up his hands when he saw the looks he was getting. "Not a good point but a point nonetheless."
Hermione huffed, realizing that Ron was a lost cause. "What about you, Harry?"
"I am done," he said. "My life is dangerous enough; I don't need some flowery smelling bint predicting my death on a daily basis!"
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, scandalized. Harry merely raised an eyebrow and Hermione, suddenly remembering just how tenious their friendship currently was, backed down.
"What are you four talking about?" Ginny asked as she joined them, Luna moving to loop her arm around Neville's.
"Prof. Trelawney's class," Neville stated. "She predicted Harry was going to die."
"Everyone dies," Luna pointed out. "So she's going to be right one day."
"Thanks for the pick-me-up, Luna," Harry groused.
"You're welcome!" Luna said happily.
"Was it really that bad?" Ginny asked her brother.
"I didn't think so," Ron said with a shrug.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You weren't the one who was being told 'You shall die when the pale moon shines brightest' by someone who smelled like a tavarn that had a Bellosom explode inside!"
"Was that what that smell was?" Neville asked. "Huh."
"Yup," Harry said with a grunt. "Flowers, whiskey and shame. Smelled like my Aunt Marge's house." When the others stared at him Harry shrugged. "Think a female Hagrid who likes to wear really strong perfume and has a bottle of cooking sherry always around but never cooks."
"And now I have the image of Hagrid in a dress stuck in my mind. Thanks mate," Ron complained.
Luna smiled. "I have the imagine of Neville dressed like a cowboy... I don't know why but I do!"
"How was Battle Class?" Hermione asked the two younger girls.
Ginny smiled. "Real fun. Prof. Lupin is a lot better teacher than Lockhart. He taught us all about type advantage and then, when we had some extra time before the end of class, he showed of his Zorua! It was cool... Mooney can shape-shift into scary things!"
"Yeah, he did the same for us," Ron said. "What did he become for you, Gin?"
The little red-head's smile fell and she let out a shudder of disgust. "Ugh, a zombie! A really nasty one too; guts pouring out of its stomach and covered in blood, half its jaw missing... blurg." She looked over at Luna. "Though, that might be replaced by Luna's if we ever do that again."
"What was hers?" Ron asked, seeing that Luna was looking anywhere but towards him.
"Some bald guy with in a brown trench coat and this weird black mask that looked like a mouth," Ginny said with a shiver. "Who was that, anyway?"
"It doesn't matter who he is, what matters is his plan," Luna stated. Her eyes became glassy and she shuddered. "When Gotham is ashes... then I have his permission to die." She blinked and, seeing the looks she was getting, flashed them a brilliant smile. "Why so serious?"
"...why am I not surprised?" Ron said as Hermione wrapped an arm around her 'bestest best friend' and gave her a comforting hug. "So, what do we have next?"
"You don't know your own schedule?" Ginny asked in surprise.
Ron shrugged. "I have the same classes as these three, so there is no real need to. I just follow Harry and Neville and I get to my next class."
Neville blinked. "That is either the smartest or dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"That's my brother, the smartest dumb guy around." Ron stuck his tongue out at Ginny, who merely gave him a cheeky wave before grabbing Luna's hand and pulling her away from Hermione. "See you at dinner!"
"So, what class is next?" Ron asked.
"You mean you weren't kidding?" Hermione said in shock.
"About what?"
Hermione opened her mouth only to slowly close it once she realized that she was going to start fighting a battle she was never going to be able to win. Harry and Neville chuckled slightly at the girl before heading towards the exit.
"Care and Coordinating," Neville said when it was clear that Ron wasn't joking and he truly had no idea what their next class was.
"Oh. Ok." Ron paused for a moment. "And what exactly is Care and Coordinating?"
Harry could tell Hermione was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She clearly didn't want to come off as bratty or insulting and was fighting her natural instincts. If it weren't for his mixed feelings concerning her Harry would have found it all quite amusing.
It was Neville who finally answered. "Coordinators raise Pokemon differently from other trainers. Their focus isn't on strict battle tactics but on elegance and grace and beauty and appeal. Coordinators have their Pokemon first perform moves in new and exciting ways and get rated by the judges. Then they battle against fellow coordinators... not only does the battle determine who moves on but the style of the Pokemon earns them more points that can help in their placing."
"...why do that when you can just attack?" Ron asked. "Bang, boom! Real simple."
Harry shrugged. "I don't know... sounds kinda interesting. Its kinda like Gauntlet running: the attacks and moves I teach Eevee aren't ones I might teach him if he were just doing straight battles for gym badges."
"Some say that Coordinating is the thinking man's Pokemon training," Hermione stated.
Ron let out a huff. "Well, it will have to wow me to prove that isn't just a waste of time."
It took them about eight minutes to finally reach the large open field where, during their first year, they had learned from Madame Hooch the basics of running and moving through the Gauntlet arena. But instead of a maze-like area there was a large clear spot with picnic blankets laid all about. Harry noticied quickly that the blankets were color coordinated and motioned for his friends to follow him towards a Gryffindor red blanket that was near the front but just far enough away from the Slytherin blankets that covered the grass. Neville quickly released Flora and the Ivysaur happily began to trot around the grass, soaking up the sun.
"Well, this is rather nice," Harry said with a smile.
"Who are we suppose to take notes without any desks?" Hermione complained. "Oh, maybe we'll get clipboards!"
"Al'ight then, al'ight then!" Hagrid called out, taking several lumbering steps towards the students. They were all quite surprised to see the giant man decked out in a massive white lab coat and wearing what were, to him, clean and professional looking clothes. Sure, he'd worn a black belt with brown shoes and his tie, which looked be the size of Harry's shirt sleeve, clashed horribly with his shirt but the outfit was much better than the rumpled clothing Hagrid normally wore. "Sit down, kids!"
"Hagrid, what are you doing here?" Harry asked.
The large man beamed. "Actually, that be 'Prof. 'agrid', 'arry. I'm takin' old Prof. Kettlebeck's position as 'ogwart's Coordinator professor."
"I didn't know you were a Coordinator," Harry said as he stretched out his legs.
"Course I am! What do ya all think I do when school is out of session? Me and Snubbul and Steelbeck 'ave won all sorts of awards and trophies!" Hagrid looked about and suddenly realized he'd been engaging in polite conversation when he was suppose to be starting the class. "Oops. Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, I'm Prof. 'agrid and this is Pokemon Care and Coordinatin' 101. This year we're gonna learn the basics of the Coordinator contest! After the end of this year I'll be 'avin' each of ya demonstrate a move you might use ta dazzle the judges." He clapped his hands together and smiled. "Now, the first part of a Coordinator Contest has a Pokemon performing moves in such a way as ta surprise and entertain the audience."
"Like a clown at a circus," Draco muttered, earning some chuckles from his group and a glare from Harry's.
"Not quite," Hagrid said, having overheard the comment but not realized that Draco was mocking him. "Though you can go that route. Trainers can go all sorts of ways when it comes to performin'; ya can be dramatic or stylish or funny... here, let me show ya!" Hagrid turned around and began to rumage through the large training bag he'd brought with him. "Now where did I put ya, Steelbeck?"
Draco stood up and scoffed. "I don't have time for this. I thought this class was suppose to teach us something, not have us watch some buffoon bumble about! The standards here at Hogwarts have truly slipped and I think my father will be real interested to hear about just who Prof. Dumbledore is having teach Avalon's future gym leaders." He looked down at Harry and his friends and scoffed. "But if you stupid little Gryffindors want to sit around and get an easy grade rather than better yourselves, feel free-"
Hermione suddenly kicked out her foot, tripping the blond Slytherin. The rest of the class gasped in shock, not believing what they had just seen.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK-"
"Steelbeck, use Iron Feathers and Reflect!"
Draco suddenly found himself having to shield his face with his arms as several razor sharp metal feathers shot down and embedded themselves all around him and the rest of the class, including two where were he had been standing moments earlier. Draco moved to stand back up, ready to tear into Hagrid, only for the entire area around him to light up like he'd been caught in a spotlight. The class gasped in shock as the feathers began to glow, radiating beautiful light that bathed them all in an ethereal glow. Even Draco found himself speechless, the performance captivating him. The blond Slytherin slowly moved back to his blanket, captivated.
After about 20 seconds the feathers stopped shining and the light dimmed. A great cry filled their ears and Harry looked over at Hagrid, who was happily scratching the chin of a metallic bird with a round bottom and big knife-like wings.
"That there was Steelbeck's Mirror Works Dance," Hagrid said proudly. "Won us 1st four 'ears ago at the Avalon Coordinator Contest, it did. If'n ya listen ta what I tell ya, you and yar pokemon will be able ta do the same."
The class, including Draco, were now paying full attention to Hagrid, realizing that the large man might actually have something to teach them. The only person not listening was Harry, who was too busy looking over at Hermione. One thought kept running through his head: she'd known that Draco would get hit by Steelbeck's feathers and tripped him to stop that from happening.
But that was crazy and he knew it. There was no way Hermione could predict the future.
Right?