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 Pokémon, which belong to the Pokémon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokémon 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.

The sight of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter wandering through the halls of Hogwarts, an Umbreon walking at Harry's heel, would be something to behold for a passing student. Yet Harry and Dumbledore came across no one on their way to Dumbledore's office, no one except Argus Filch's mangy Glameow, Mrs Norris, and soon Dumbledore was unlocking his office door and gesturing Harry inside.

"Chime!"

Dumbledore's Chimecho floated cheerfully across the room, wrapping her ribbon like tail around Harry's arm and smiling up at him.

"Hey Chimecho," Harry greeted, returning the smile. Chimecho beamed in return before her attention was caught by the other Pokémon in the room. Unwinding from Harry's arm Chimecho floated down to Umbreon's level, looking at the Pokémon curiously as Umbreon stared back.

A moment of silent contemplation seemed to be enough for Chimecho to decide the dark type Pokémon was alright and she snaked her tail around Umbreon's torso and gave another happy cry.

"So good to see our Pokémon getting along," Dumbledore commented. He'd wandered past Harry as Chimecho had made her greetings and now stood behind his magnificent oak desk. "But I think it is time we got on to our lesson." Dumbledore's time plant lay on the desk before him.

Harry approached the desk. "You have another memory to show me, sir?" He asked, looking down at the glowing blue plant on the desk. Dumbledore nodded.

"Riolu," he said, and the small fighting type appeared upon the desk next to the time plant. "We'll be needing your help, if you don't mind."

"Hi, Riolu," Harry greeted. Riolu looked a bit surprised to hear Harry address him and it took Harry a moment to realise that on the last two occasions on which they'd met Harry had not been in the mood for pleasantries.

Riolu recovered quickly enough, favouring Harry with a small smile and a nod of the head before turning his attention expectantly to Dumbledore, awaiting orders.

Dumbledore turned to Harry.

"When we last spoke we had just finished our discussion on the history of the Gaunts," Dumbledore recapped. "We had Marvolo in prison, Morfin returning to Little Hangleton, and young Merope, pregnant and fearing her brother's wrath, disappearing, never to be seen or heard from in Little Hangleton ever again."

"And so we pick up our story with Merope, having now found her way to London, lost and alone and heavily pregnant, before she found some much needed shelter in the form of an orphanage. It is there that she would give birth and, not long after, die, but not before giving her son a name. Tom, after his father. Marvolo, after her's."

"She named him after her father?" Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief. He'd already known Voldemort's full name so this came as no surprise but still Harry could not understand why Merope would choose to name her son after a man such as Marvolo Gaunt.

"The bonds of family should never be underestimated," Dumbledore warned. "Though he was undoubtedly abusive and cruel Marvolo was still her father, and along with her brother he would likely have been all Merope had while growing up. Even though she left that all far behind it is hardly surprising she chose to remember them."

Harry fell quiet. It was a hard reminder of just how terrible a situation Merope had been in.

"And the importance of family would play a role of huge importance from that point onwards," Dumbledore continued. "It is something that young Tom Riddle would grow up without. Not only that but in the orphanage he would never know anything about them. His mother died in childbirth, the workers at the orphanage knew little of who she was or where she'd come from, and all he could tell of his father was that he was not there, and that they shared a name, Tom Riddle."

"And that," Dumbledore said significantly. "Is where I come in." Dumbledore nodded his head significantly towards Riolu and, as though this had been planned long in advance, Riolu started to raise his paw to the time plant.

"There was little Merope could do for her son, other than take him away from her life of fear and squalor, but she made one last attempt before she died," Dumbledore said as Riolu's energy started to build. "Merope, knowing her family's connection to one of the four founders of Hogwarts, though never having attended herself, begged the nurses to have her son signed up on the Hogwarts register. And then, ten and a half years later, I was sent to meet him."

A blue pulse flashed over the room as Riolu finished building power and placed his paw against the glowing time plant. Dumbledore's office faded into the background and the busy streets of London, sixty years removed from the present, took its place.

Dumbledore was easily recognisable. Even sixty years ago he had his signature long hair and beard, though it was much shorter back then and seemed to perhaps contain some colour, though the shimmering blue nature of the scene made it hard to judge.

Dumbledore was walking down the road but stopped as the scene began to play, looking both ways before crossing the street where he approached a rather large and formidable looking building across the way.

He rang the doorbell.

A couple minutes passed as Dumbledore stood patiently on the doorstep, his hands hooked casually into his belt and his head turning to look down the street with an expression of mild curiosity. Then the door opened.

"Yes? What can I do for you?" The woman who answered the door was quite short, though that may have only been in comparison to Dumbledore, and was fairly young, perhaps in her early to mid thirties. She wore a uniform, a simple yet old fashioned design, and she looked up at Dumbledore with the sort of tiredness that suggested she was very busy, and that she hoped Dumbledore was not going to add to her list of problems she had to deal with.

Dumbledore bowed respectfully. "Good morning," he greeted. "Am I correct in saying that this is St Mary's Orphanage?" The woman nodded.

"Yes, that's right. What do you need?"

"My name is Albus Dumbledore," Dumbledore introduced. "I have an appointment to meet with a Mrs Cole. I understand she is in charge of this establishment."

"That's right," the woman said. "Come on in, I'll take you to her office."

Dumbledore gratefully steeped across the threshold and the door shut behind him with a snap.

The inside of the orphanage was not very welcoming. It was small and cramped, and the past version of Dumbledore had to duck his head to avoid the dangling light fitting. The corridor they were standing in was full of identical closed doors - offices, from what Harry could tell - and the majority of the space was taken up by a large staircase leading to the upper floors.

The woman who had answered the door ignored the stairs, instead leading Dumbledore down the corridor to the back of the building where she knocked on one of the doors and poked her head inside.

"Mrs Cole," she called into the room. "I have an Albus Dumbledore here to see you." Something was said from inside, something Harry couldn't quite make out, but it must have been positive as the woman quickly backed out of the room and gestured for Dumbledore to go inside.

As Dumbledore went she disappeared back down the corridor.

"Mrs Cole, an absolute pleasure to meet you," Dumbledore greeted warmly. Harry looked around the office.

The room was packed. Filing cabinets lined every inch of wall space, making the room seem quite a lot smaller than it actually was. A small amount of light shone through from a grimy window to the side and it lit up the centre of the room where sat a desk strewn with papers, behind which sat a woman who matched the office well.

Mrs Cole was an old woman, with dark grey hair tied back into a severe knot. Her wrinkled features demonstrated age but her eyes were sharp and piercing as she gazed up from behind her desk at the visitor.

"Professor Dumbledore," she replied, her voice clipped. "I see you have arrived promptly." She did not offer him a seat.

"Well, I would not wish to be an inconvenience," Dumbledore replied genially. "I am sure you are very busy and I endeavour not to take up any more of your time than necessary. I trust you are aware of why I'm here."

"Yes," Mrs Cole said sharply. "The boy."

"He is registered to attend our school this year," Dumbledore acknowledged.

"I am aware of that," Mrs Cole snapped. "I was here when he arrived. It was a damn impossible task finding anyone in your ministry willing to listen when we tried to get him registered. Almost gave up hope, your people were so incompetent."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't," Dumbledore told her. "In Pokémon families carrying on the tradition of Pokémon training is of the utmost importance."

"I'm aware," Mrs Cole said. "I've dealt with your kind before. I don't normally approve but in some cases… well, Tom doesn't seem to fit in well with the normal world. If he can find a place in your's I'll bite my tongue and swallow my misgivings."

"Believe me, all I want is the best for each and every student that passes through the doors of Hogwarts," Dumbledore promised. "May I have a seat?" Mrs Cole eyed him up.

"Go on then," she barked, jerking a gnarled hand at the chair across the desk. Dumbledore sat down gratefully. "So, what business do we need to attend to? What do you need from us?"

"Very little," Dumbledore assured her. "Hogwarts has a trust for students that come from disadvantaged backgrounds so money is not an issue. Mr Riddle, should he decide to accept our offer, will be staying at Hogwarts from September to late May, with opportunities to visit during the holidays, which we'll keep in contact with you about. The Hogwarts Express leaves from King's Cross Station on September 1st at eleven o'clock and school supplies can be purchased from Diagon Alley, which I will show Mr Riddle how to find later today."

"So you're all set then," Mrs Cole said brusquely.

"Mostly," Dumbledore responded. "I would like to ask a few questions, if I may, on how exactly he came to be here. I have searched and I was unable to find a family by the name of Riddle in the Pokémon Community."

"Well, that's his name alright," Mrs Cole muttered. "She was quite adamant about that. Tom Marvolo Riddle, named after his father and grandfather."

"This is the mother we're talking about?" Dumbledore clarified. Mrs Cole nodded.

"I suppose it could have been the fathers surname she gave him," Mrs Cole reasoned. "She was in quite a state, perhaps she was trying to hide from her own family. Perhaps the name she gave was completely made up. Riddle."

"And did she happen to mention her own name?" Dumbledore asked.

"I believe she might have mentioned it," Mrs Cole said thoughtfully. "I seem to remember thinking it was unusual. But as I said, she was in a right state, cared not a jot about her own name, and for our part we had more pressing matters to attend to."

"Like?" Dumbledore questioned.

"The baby," Mrs Cole exclaimed. "When she arrived she was cold and wet, wearing nothing but rags with no money to her name. She would have been stick thin if she weren't so heavily pregnant. Went into labour within mere minutes of us taking her in. Then the baby was born and we were doing our best to look after him and next thing we know she's dead."

"It must have been a difficult time," Dumbledore said quietly.

"For her, most definitely," Mrs Cole pointed out. "Forget our panic, the poor girl was young and unwell and the only things she could focus on after giving birth were for us to get him registered for your school and the boy's name. And then she died. Poor girl was most likely only holding on to see her child born."

Dumbledore bowed his head solemnly.

"Anyway," Mrs Cole said with a sigh. "After we made arrangements for her body we set off trying to talk to your Ministry. Took months before someone from the education department would listen to us. Said he put him on the waiting list. To be honest I half expected him to be lying, just saying it to get rid of us, but here you are. And I'm glad. As I said, Tom could really need this."

"Yes, you did say that," Dumbledore noted. "Tell me a little about Tom. What has you so worried?" Mrs Cole pursed her lips.

"He's a quiet boy," she said. "Doesn't socialise like the others. Doesn't usually say much at all but apparently he's got a temper, when pushed. The other kids stay out of his way now."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Tell me, do you think him troubled?"

"With all due respect, Mr Dumbledore, this is an orphanage," Mrs Cole challenged. "They're all a little troubled. Tom…" she trailed off, her eyes narrowed.

"This won't affect his chances of being accepted at your school, will it?" She asked sharply.

"Not even slightly," Dumbledore assured her. "We accept all those who wish to come and learn about Pokémon. I ask merely for the sake of Tom, and for what we can do to help him when he comes to Hogwarts." Mrs Cole seemed to relax.

"He doesn't fit in," she said. "He doesn't engage. We've thought about getting a pet but we simply do not have the finances for something like that."

"Hence why you think a Pokémon might be beneficial," Dumbledore noted. Mrs Cole nodded. "Well, I hope you're right."

Mrs Cole straightened in her chair. "So, what do we do from here?" She asked. "Are you going to talk to him or should I?"

"I would like to speak with him, if you do not mind," Dumbledore told her. "It is procedure for children from non-Pokémon families to have a member of staff visit them in person to hand over their acceptance letter, as well as to pass on some key information about our world and our school."

"Well," Mrs Cole said abruptly, jumping from her chair. She was unbelievably small. "No time to waste. Lunch will be served soon. I'll take you to Tom's room."

Dumbledore rose to his feet as Mrs Cole scuttled expertly around her desk and led him back out the door and down the entry corridor once more. She led him upstairs, her feet shuffling rapidly as Dumbledore strode sedately behind her, before turning off on the first floor landing. Two boys ran past them, slowing to a walk under Mrs Cole's firm gaze, before she came to a stop, turning to a nearby door.

She knocked.

"Tom?" She called inside, pushing the door open.

A small boy sat in the room beyond, sitting on the edge of a threadbare bed in an otherwise unremarkable room. His dark hair fell neatly around his face and he turned calmly to where they stood in the doorway.

"Yes, Mrs Cole?" He asked politely. His voice was smooth and chillingly familiar and he looked over the intruders with a sort of restrained curiosity, his eyes flickering over Dumbledore in just a moment before they turned back to Mrs Cole.

"You've got a visitor," Mrs Cole announced, stepping aside to allow Dumbledore to enter the room behind her. "This is Professor Dumbledore, a teacher at Hogwarts School of Pokémon Training."

"Pokémon?" Tom said. His voice was interested.

"Yes, Pokémon," Mrs Cole told him. "He wants to talk to you about an opportunity for you to attend his school."

"Okay," Tom said but he was no longer paying Mrs Cole any attention. His eyes were on Dumbledore and it was quite clear where his priorities lay.

Mrs Cole recognised this too. "I'll leave you to it," she told them, preparing to leave. "Professor, if you would stop by my office when you're done." And she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

For a long moment there was silence in the room. One which Dumbledore eventually broke.

"Very well, let's crack on, shall we," he said, approaching a small wooden chair that sat in the corner of the room. "May I?" Tom Riddle nodded, not saying a word, and his eyes followed Dumbledore as he pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down.

"Tom… is it alright if I call you Tom?" Again Tom Riddle nodded. "Tom, as you heard my name is Professor Dumbledore, Physiology Professor at Hogwarts school of Pokémon Training, and I am here to let you know that you are on our register to start your first year of schooling with us, if you would like to, that is."

"How?" Tom asked. Dumbledore frowned.

"I'm sorry, I am not quite sure what you are asking."

"How am I registered at your school?" Tom clarified. "I've never heard of Hogwarts before."

"Ah," Dumbledore said in understanding. "I had not realised you didn't know. Your mother insisted on it at the time of your birth and the staff here at the time made sure to make it so. You know about Pokémon, don't you?"

"Of course," Tom said disparagingly and he moved on, as though the question deserved no more response. "Why would my mother sign me up for this school? She had no Pokémon."

"I am afraid I can't answer that question," Dumbledore said sadly. "Maybe in time we will know, but, alas…"

"It must have been my father," Tom said without emotion. "That would make sense."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore agreed. Tom's eyes narrowed suddenly.

"Are you really from a Pokémon school?" He asked suspiciously. "You are not one of those… doctors?" Dumbledore raised his hands unthreateningly.

"I assure you I am not," he said.

"Prove it."

Tom's command came out with surprising force, particularly in contrast with the soft way in which he held himself. His expression, even after his declaration for proof, remained calm. The only thing that gave him away was the hint of fear in his eyes, full of distrust as he glared at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore lowered his hands. "As you wish," he said quietly and a hand disappeared into his jacket, a Pokéball soon appearing in his grasp. He opened it.

"Chingling!" The happy cry of the small bell like Pokémon rang around the room as it appeared on the bed, no more than a foot away from Riddle. It gazed around the room, eyes passing over Dumbledore, before it spotted the young boy and it gave another cheerful greeting.

"This is Chingling, a Psychic type Pokémon," Dumbledore introduced, gesturing with a wave towards the Pokémon. "It is known for its musical cry and for its ability to float when travelling, a useful skill that allows it to evade ground based attacks."

It was unclear just how much of this Tom Riddle had heard. He was staring at Chingling with something akin to awe, leaning forward where he sat and only just seeming to restrain himself from reaching out and touching the Pokémon.

His eyes turned to Dumbledore. "When can I get one of these?"

"Soon," Dumbledore told him with a smile, a familiar twinkle in his eye. "Most of the Pokémon you'll acquire will require you to catch them yourself, and there are many opportunities to do so once you get to Hogwarts, but traditionally in the Pokémon world the first Pokémon a young trainer receives, their starter Pokémon, will be purchased from a shop in Diagon Alley by the name of Ollivander's."

"Where is that?" Tom asked.

"That I plan to show you, once we've concluded our business here. Though if you wish to do this with one of your carers, such as Mrs Cole for example, I would completely understand," Dumbledore offered.

"I can go on my own," Tom said quickly. Dumbledore looked at him. "I don't like dealing with other people."

"I see," Dumbledore said softly. "I would highly discourage you from travelling alone but I will not force the issue." He reached into his pocket. "And I think it is about time I hand over this."

For a brief moment the familiar Hogwarts letter was visible in Dumbledore's hand before the scene was suddenly whipped away, the blue light retreating rapidly into the time plant and revealing Dumbledore's office once more.

"Young Tom Riddle would ignore my advice," Dumbledore spoke into the silence, picking up as his past self left off. "Even at a young age he was fiercely independent, preferring his own company above all others and automatically distrustful of the people around him. But, resourceful, he successfully made it into Diagon Alley, retrieved his allowance from the Hogwarts trust at Gringotts, and purchased his supplies, as well as his starter Pokémon, Larvitar."

A/N: Thanks for reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed.

I just want to give you all a heads up that I've started a twitter profile for my work. The idea is to keep people up to date on when I'm uploading a chapter or a new piece of work, particularly if for some reason I can't upload in my usual slots. You can find me at KnightWolfsbane on twitter and I hope to see you there, and if there is anything else you think I could do with this account then please let me know.

If you have any questions you can contact me there too and I'll do my best to respond promptly.

That being said I won't be able to upload later this week so the next chapter won't be up until this time next week.

See you then.