'To stare or not the stare,' Harry thought to himself, shifting in his seat. Honestly he knew he should have been more concerned with the looks he himself was getting from all the students; rather than focusing on the sorting he knew that many of the students were looking towards him. For different reasons as well.
The Hufflepuffs were a mix of rage at him costing them their Head of House and desire to hug him and tell him that they were all in this together and knew that he was in pain too. That was the House of Loyalty to a T: unable to decide if they were all caring and all protective or a tiny junior cult that stood against any and all that didn't wear their colors. The Ravenclaws had taken a more analytical approach, with several having already approached him about getting his side of the story. Ginny had finally solved that problem by telling them she had video of the entire thing… and would delete it if they didn't back the hell off. So now they were just staring at him wondering what the truth was while waiting to see when Ginny would give up that information. When it came to the Slytherins they were casting side-eye looks at him clearly unsure of what to think of him now that he'd defanged Draco; some feared him, others wanted to ally with him in hopes of positioning themselves well for the new society they thought he'd bring, and others… others might honestly be interested in being friends with him. He hadn't done anything to Snape, after all, and in fact had helped him gain more power. Some where whispering he was a secret Ekans himself and had only joined Gryffindor to take it down from within as the ultimate spy. Thus was the way of the Slytherin.
As for the Gryffindors? They were all looking at him waiting for him to give the command to take over the school.
Because apparently getting their Head of House killed and nearly murdering Fudge had made Harry the new Head of Gryffindor in their eyes, even with their new Head of House firmly in place. In their minds his actions in trying to take out Voldemort, despite how much of an utter and complete failure he'd been, made Harry the leader they wanted. He was their commander and more than one student had quietly whispered that they were ready to overthrow Dumbledore and put him in charge.
He should have been concerned with all of that. After all if he added the word 'Team' in front of 'Gryffindor' then he'd basically become like Giovanni or Cyrus. But instead he kept feeling the urge to turn his gaze towards the Head Table, where Dumbledore was discussing more of the many things Filch wanted to have outlawed, and the many new faces that sat there. 'Feeling' because every time he let his gaze linger for more than a few seconds he ripped it away, a sensation of utter shame that he was the cause of all the changes flooding his veins.
'At least there are some familiar faces,' he thought as he once more found himself glancing at the Head Table. Dumbledore, of course, and next to him was Snape. He'd been offered the position of Deputy Headmaster and had accepted but only under the agreement that he didn't have to teach Potions or be a Head of House anymore… he wanted to be just a pure Deputy. Thus Prof. Slughorn was brought back out of retirement to act as the Head of Slytherin and Potions Master once more. Prof. Slate was still up there, though now in the position of Head of Ravenclaw and the new Pokemon Care professor, as he'd felt that better suited his talents. Naturally the old guard of Avalon was in an uproar that a foreign devil was given such a position, as the Heads should only be 'pure Avalon stock'.
'Hell, we are just full of foreigners,' Harry thought to himself, glancing at Prof. Korak. The Alolan native who was his new head of house looked presentable enough, with his slicked back white and black hair and loose long dark lab coat, but he knew that the man, who was idly bouncing a shrunk down Pokeball against his knuckles, would never be accepted by polite Avalon society. Neither would the new history professor, Kawa, for she was another Alolan native. She was less… acceptable… than Korak, what with her dark pink hair with yellow highlights and the hints of tattoos that Harry had spotted when the sleeves of her jacket had slid up. It didn't matter that she was apparently one of the best young historians of her generation and it was an utter coup to have her teaching at Hogwarts… she wouldn't be accepted due to who her parents were.
The new Potions teacher, Slughorn, kept glancing at Harry and he forced himself not to shudder at the hungry look in the man's eyes. Even with Remus and Sirius assuring him that Slughorn wasn't a danger at all and actually would make a fine ally when it came to networking… he didn't like in the slightest the way the man was clearly seeing Harry as some golden idol he needed to snatch up.
The newest face though… that was the one that left him utterly shocked. The new head of Hufflepuff. The new Tracking Professor.
Ron let out a groan, holding his head in his hands. Ginny wasn't much better, looking like someone had just released an EMP blast in her bedroom then informed her that the internet was being turned off forever. If the Twins had been there he knew that they would be trembling in utter terror.
Percy Weasley was the new head of Hufflepuff.
'An interesting choice, isn't it?'
Harry looked around. He was used to people entering his mind at this point… Hermione was strengthening her mental skills, believing that being able to connect all of The Pride together would help them up in the battles to come. And of course Dobby commonly popped into his head, asking if he needed anything. But this voice… this one wasn't Dobby and it certainly wasn't Hermione.
'While I wouldn't be offended being compared to Miss Granger, due to her intelligence nearly rivaling my own, I doubt very much she could pull off my crown.'
It took several moments for Harry to realizing that the voice as VERY familiar.
'Slowking?' He glanced to where the Pokemon in charge of sorting the first years stood, which was off to the side and to the right of the Head Table. Now that Harry thought about he had never really noticed where the psychic type disappeared to when he was done with his duties.
'Yes. As for where I go I tend to go to the kitchens and allow the Castle's servant Pokemon to pamper me; they do so enjoy having a chance to privately serve a meal to someone. They get a rather large thrill from it. After all, it is hard to see the joy on someone's face when they are in a large Hall with an entire school murmuring and moving at the same time as they are cooking and cleaning.' The Slowking smirked at Harry. 'Something to consider, should you grow tired of being the focus of the school's attention and just want to enjoy a good meal.'
Harry nodded in thanks to that suggestion. 'Good point, though I doubt you decided to stick around and contact me purely to tell me about meal services.'
'True,' Slowking stated. 'The Headmaster wishes to meet with you after the meal, if you are able to.'
'I am,' Harry said. 'Any reason he didn't ask me to do so himself?'
He got the mental equivalent of a shrug. 'It is hard to tell with my trainer. He has always been mysterious and for the last year even more so. It could be because he is concerned about appearances for you… that him approaching you openly would cause more problems for you with your classmates.'
'Hard to believe it could get any worse,' Harry thought with a grumble.
'It could also be that he is plotting something that does require secrecy. After all… there are students here who not only have parents who are part of Nocturne but very well could desire to join themselves.'
'True,' Harry admitted, forcing himself not to glance in Draco's direction.
'Do not merely assume that it must be Slytherins,' Slowking chided him. 'All the houses and their virtues can be twisted for evil.'
'How so?' Harry asked. 'I mean… I can see Ravenclaws becoming detached from humanity because of their utter focus on the mind and logic and how that could lead to evil things-'
'Grindlewald's "Final Solution" was based on mathematics,' Slowking informed him. 'The idea that humanity was doomed if their population grew too large and the idea that the poor produced more children than the rich… and since the rich must be better morally in order to have risen to the position they had…'
Harry grimaced even as the feast popped up on the tables. 'Yeah, no need to say more.'
'Of course he was also a fool because he failed to realize that humanity always finds a way to improve yield and efficiency so there was no need to worry about humanity starving itself. The first scholar that came up with that theory? According to his math we should have died out 1000 years ago.' Slowking went quiet and it took Harry a moment to figure out that the Pokemon wanted him to continue.
'Okay, so cunning can be heroic, I'm not that blinded by House rivalries. Barty Crouch Jr. and Snape showed me the good in being sneaky. And courage can press you to do acts that you'd never consider doing.'
'Again, the Final Solution.'
'But really? You expect me to believe in an evil Hufflepuff? How can loyalty-'
'Dolores Umbridge was supposed to be a Hufflepuff.'
Harry physically forced himself not to drop his jaw in shock, knowing that doing so would have only caused his friends and the other Gryffindors to stare at him and wonder if he was having a stroke or something.
So instead he said, 'Supposed to?'
'There are many students I sort who can fit into multiple houses. Hermione had a stronger connection to Ravenclaw but her desire for friends led her to Gryffindor. You obviously fit all four houses. Miss Lovegood-' Here Slowking actually, the real world, shuddered, '-well, she actually somehow created a house called Bearglove that included a large black man screaming at me about something called Old Spice.'
'Sounds like Luna,' Harry admitted.
'Has she gotten any… better?' Slowking asked. 'I have heard from Albus that she is now the Mistress of all Veela. Has that… mellowed her?'
Harry grimaced.
~Three Hours Earlier~
"I will break Draco's spirit!" Luna declared, holding up, of all things, a stuffed Murkrow that she suddenly threw to the cabin's floor and began to stab with her cane. "I will marry his son and fill his belly with my festering seed and sire a boy! That will be my revenge!"
"…what?" Neville said in confusion.
~Currently~
'Umbridge,' Slowking stated, deciding to pointedly IGNORE the insanity of that memory, 'should have been a Hufflepuff but she refused every attempt to push her that way. She felt that Slytherin was the proper place for proper women and that even suggesting it was a slur against her and her family not to be sorted there. But that does not mean her loyalty didn't remain… it merely was never focused in the proper directions and thus-'
'Fanatic.' Harry cut into the roast beef he'd piled onto his plate.
'And what is a cult, Harry?' Slowking asked. 'It is a group slavishly LOYAL to something, to the point that logic, facts, even sanity are all false if they do not fit in with their desire to remain united behind the ideal or person that they have decided to stand behind.'
'Point taken,' Harry stated, a bit embarrassed he'd forgotten his own thoughts on the Hufflepuffs from moments before.
'Of course, when it comes to your question as to why I am contacting you this way,' Slowking stated with a shrug, 'it could simply be that my trainer enjoys such theatrics.'
'Would explain his shirts,' Harry stated. 'So right after the meal?'
'If you could.'
'Of course.'
'He will inform Prof. Kurak so that he knows why you will be past curfew.'
'Thanks,' Harry stated. 'I don't think he'd buy it if I told him that my permission to be out of the dorms was a psychic message from a pink crowned Pokemon.'
Slowking chuckled at that.
~MC~MC~MC~
The headmaster's office was exactly as Harry had remembered it from his previous visits. There was a sense of other-worldliness to it, like it was some demented wizard's lair where they might practice spells and learn the secrets of the universe. But it was a space wizard who saw magic as merely technology that needed to be understood. A clash of the modern and the old so that he felt like he was walking through a tornado made up of the past and the present. High tech tvs that monitored select areas of the school sat inches away from antique portraits of headmasters past who stood in their frames looking like they were seconds away from greeting him.
He wondered how many students had walked through the same door he had just to meet Dumbledore, let alone all the headmasters that had come before him. How many had felt fear, worried that the kindly old man sitting in the chair was about to rip away their dreams? How many felt relief, seeing the headmaster as their only ally? Countless, he supposed.
'But how many of them have walked into here feeling only disgust?' he thought to himself as he took his seat, Leon curling up near his feet while Hedwig remained outside, hidden but listening in all the same from her perch. Because no matter what Dumbledore did the office, at least in Harry's opinion, would be forever tainted by allowing that monster Umbridge to sit there and not receive a pink slip.
"Ah, hello Harry!" Dumbledore said as he entered the room himself from one of the side doors. "Lemon drop?"
"No thank you," Harry said politely.
"Of course," the headmaster said, taking one himself and popping it into his mouth. "I can't remember the last time I've had a student accept one. Plenty of former students, naturally... if no one ever accepted then it would be rather strange for me to keep offering!" He chuckled at that and Harry merely sat their politely, failing to quite see what was so humorous. "You see, Harry, such treats are an old man's vice. Oh, I know that you children enjoy the occasional strong flavors; your nacho cheese chips and your acidic sodas." He leaned in closer and whispered, "I enjoy them as well, but I won't admit it in public... might cause people to stop enjoying them if they though they weren't exclusively a 'young person' treat." He pulled back and held up a wrapped lemon drop. "But candies like this? They are for the old. Our taste buds begin to become muted as we grow older. Did you know that? People talk of hearing getting worse, strength leaving, eye-sight... heh, but perhaps you are the wrong one to discuss eyesight with?" He waved at Harry's glasses, which he still wore but had seen their lenses replaced to purely optical screen glass that functioned no different than the glasses people wore to see optical dex projections. "But no one ever talks about taste fading.
"That's the thing though, Harry... as we grow older all things begin to fade. Get fuzzy. You might not believe it from looking at me but when i was your age I was as sharp and as strong as a Honedge. But each battle, if only against life itself, dulled the edge and made little nicks in my steel. Ground away my sharpness until... well." He waved his hands at himself and gave a self-mocking 'what can you do?' shrug. "But," he added, tapping his desk with a bony finger, 'it is possible to reforge a blade. To make it close to what it once was. And I have you to thank for that. You showed me I was wrong."
"I didn't-"
"But you did," Dumbeldore insisted. "I look back to my actions in the graveyard... oh, what i fool I was. Is it little wonder you sided against me when I came at you like that? You were hurting... that savage Greyback had wounded you, Nocturne had tormented you, and then I expected you with your emotions flaring as they were to take my hand? Hmpf. Dulled. The body and the mind." He tapped his skull. "But you showed me I was wrong, Harry. It took far too long and the deaths of Fillius, Ponema, and Minerva are on my head because of my slowness. But all I can do is move on and correct my errors and, I hope, build to something better with you... and for Avalon.
"There is an old saying," Dumbledore said, pushing away from his desk and walking to the window to stare out at Hogwarts bathed in darkness and moonlight. "It is, 'Great men are forged in fire... it is the duty of lesser men to light the flame'. I think this is only partially true. Or perhaps it doesn't go far enough to explain itself." He splayed his hands out and smiled at him. "I believe that it is the duty of all to light the flame for others. That is why I became a professor… there were many, believe it or not, who thought it mad that I decided to dedicate my life to teaching others. After all… I was a war hero. The man that defeated Grindlewald. And what most didn't realize, but would have only fueled their belief even more, was that I was soon to be the very last of the Aura Knights. That alone meant that I should have been off saving damsels and fighting in pitched battles. But… that simply wasn't for me. What I desire is to help light the fires of young minds… and in turn seeing them become so excited and enthralled in learning it helps light the fires within and under me. To make me want to push myself farther."
"So what happened?" Harry finally asked, once Dumbledore paused to take a breath. "Because what I saw in the graveyard… that wasn't someone with fire in their belly. That was a cold furnace that wasn't likely to be ever fired up again."
The headmaster sighed. "And you are right to think that. I had become complacent. Settled in my ways. I saw things going well for myself and I feared the unknown. Especially since Voldemort showed me how violent change and growth can be. We can't ever forget that: change is good but it is a horrible, volatile transformation. One that results in just as much destruction as creation."
"But just because you believe that doesn't mean that others will."
"And thus my failure… and my seeking redemption." Dumbledore finally turned back to him. "That is why I have agreed to teach you how to master Aura. I have come to realize that no matter what I desire that doesn't mean the rest of the world will be willing to accept that. My only hope in preserving the peace that I long for is to teach you how to fight to maintain it. I can only hope, my boy, that you will not suffer as I have in gaining this knowledge."
Harry didn't answer him; he had a feeling Dumbledore wouldn't be pleased with his response when it came to 'suffering'.
"Now then, I will throughout the year seek you out for private meetings. We will use these times to teach you more about Aura and how to properly wield it. It isn't the proper way, of course… when I was a squire I lived and breathed Aura Control. But I'm afraid we simply don't have the means to do that. It will be up to you to discover things on your own, if you wish to progress faster than I can teach you." He walked over to a book shelf and selected a large heavy tome after a few moments of pondering, nodding in quiet approval before bringing the book back over to Harry. "This will help."
"What is it? Exactly?"
"The first in a series of books that you will need to read that will explain many aspects of Aura. Not merely the technical, though I fear that there is much of that in there…" The headmaster grimaced, clearly remembering his own times having to read through what was surely dense and ponderous text describing proper arm movements and positioning of the torso. "But also within you will find the personal reflections of many different Aura Knights."
Looking at the cover Harry couldn't help but frown, tracing his fingers along the symbol that was embossed onto the book. "I've seen this before… in the White Book! Next to your name!"
"That is the emblem of the Aura Knights," Dumbledore said, walking over to his desk and activating a projector. In the air hovering before Harry was the symbol, the stylized head of Arceus in a ring of gold. "Many of the Arts have such emblems, though I believe only the Aura Knights actually wore them as I do." He pulled from under his shirt a medallion on a chain that was marked with the same symbol. "Now then," he said, putting the chain and medallion away and touching the projector again, "these are, according to my research, the last known emblems of the Arts."
Harry stared at the emblems as they appeared before him.
Magnus- A furry fist, raised in triumph.
Veela- One of the Lake Trio, Harry couldn't remember which, looking utterly peaceful while surrounded by green flames.
Dracanid- Rayquaza flying upward, straight and strong.
Elemental Benders- The ancient Mew chasing its own tail to form a ring.
Dream Walkers- Two Pokémon, one light and one dark, forming the Yin and Yang symbol with their forms.
The Battle Lords of Galar- A strange skeletal dragon in a beam of pinkish light.
Kanikani- Four masks, resembling a bull, a bird, a fish, and a hummingbird, in a similar arrangement as the Hogwarts seal.
"I lack the symbol of the Speakers," Dumbledore admitted. "There are many other Arts that have been lost but those are the main ones."
Harry didn't say a word. The symbol of the Speakers was Lugia in flight over a mountain… what Jack had made the flag of Johto, his secret mark to honor the Art that had helped him free Johto. But that knowledge was not something he would part with.
Instead he flipped opened the book and was surprised to find that the text seemed to contain many different fonts and scripts. There were the large, proud, yet also elegant lines that filled up most of the page to be sure. But in the margins were comments and notes and thoughts written in several other hands. The section, concerning how to use Aura to create a shield, had at least three other people's thoughts jotted down, discussing things they had discovered or disagreed with when it came to the text. At one point someone had written how the author was a fool only for another writer, most likely decades later, to put down that the first was an idiot who didn't understand what was being discussed and their comments should thus be ignored.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, the book is entirely like that. As will be the other books I give you in order to master the Art. While in the times of our greatest strength we would make copies of these texts it was rather common for a knight to present to their squire a used book, filled with not only their knowledge but the knowledge of those that had taught them, and in turn those that had taught those that came before. This way you learned not from a single source but gained wisdom from many that came before you; a great chain of knowledge stretching centuries."
Harry adjusted his grip on the text carefully, sensing fully in that moment the sheer weight of history that he was holding.
Dumbledore, seeing this, smirked and stated, "Turn to page 103." Doing so Harry found a much more modern piece of paper glued to a section of the book; the reason was plain to see as even with the repair the hints of a large maroon stain still managed to leak past the more modern addition. "You will find splashes of liquid and smudges from countless oils, inks, and greases throughout."
"Huh… interesting… and very gross."
"Oh, life is gross, Harry," Dumbledore responded before tapping his desk with the back of his fingers. Harry set the book down and rose as Dumbledore waved his hand in a 'get up' gesture. "Now, let us begin again. You have been practicing?"
"As much as I could over the summer," he said. "It hasn't always gone smoothly or been as long as I wished-"
"Then it is better than I hoped," Dumbledore stated. "We will make up for lost time now."
"I haven't been able to produce an Aura Flame."
"I'd have been surprised if you could this early in your training," Dumbledore stated. "It can take years for one to kindle an ember." Harry frowned at that and the headmaster quickly added, "But I do believe you will have an easier time of it. Your skill when it comes to Speaking and Magnus means you have a natural talent for the Arts… I would say that would is difficult for most will be rather easy for you. It will still require hard work!" He wagged his finger at Harry. "Do not believe you will be able to do what I showcased in the Ministry within a month. I have had over a century of practice. And many of the things I am able to do where never performed by other Aura Knights. I had to craft them on my own."
"But that means you'll be able to show me what I need to do," Harry pointed out.
Dubmeldore smiled at that. "Very true. For now though let us focus on understanding Aura. Close your eyes and listen."
Harry did just that, despite the fact that the natural paranoia that had been growing in him the last five years was screaming that he needed to be aware of his surroundings.
"Aura existed from the moment life truly began. When the first cells began to divide Aura was there, motivating them to continue. The first Pokemon to crawl out of the sea and make it to dry land did so because Aura told them they could thrive."
"So it guides our actions?"
"… a moment," Dumbledore said and Harry heard the headmaster locked the windows and then bar the door. The reason why became apparent when Harry heard a bang… and the Luna moaning in pain before hurrying away. "I had a feeling."
"Smart," Harry said with a chuckle before focusing one more on the darkness behind his eyes, digging down deeper into the darkness to find the spark of Aura that was within him.
"As for your question… Aura guides but it also obeys."
"Symbiotic," Harry stated.
"Perhaps though not quite right. I prefer to think of it as a partnership. I'm sure you can see that, if you think clearly upon it. Aura provides us a way to fight, to continue on, to meet challenges. In turn we provide it with all it needs to thrive."
"…like Pokemon and trainers!" Harry exclaimed, nearly popping his eyes in excitement as he realized just what Dumbledore was trying to get him to understand. It made complete sense… all the Arts were about bridging the divide between mankinds and the world of Pokemon. Speaking was about communicating. Magnus the physical form. Veela the emotions. Aura was the exact same thing.
"Exactly," Dumbledore stated. "Aura is life and what is the best example of life itself than a Pokemon battle where a trainer and their Pokemon are in perfect sync? A battle for survival, for victory, where many must operate as one for all?" The headmaster murmured to himself. "Now then, Aura can do many things, when mastered. It allows one to understand the thoughts and actions of another being. Not reading minds… that is a mistake by those that don't fully understand the power of Aura. Not helped that several knights in the past were also psychics."
"Like with me and being a Speaker and a Magnus?"
"Exactly. I believe there was even a Veela once who became an Aura Knight."
"Is that common, for other Art Masters to become Aura Knights."
"The reverse, actually," Dumbledore admitted. "In the ancient past the Arts and their masters didn't play well with each other, to be rather casual about it. Wars have been fought in secret between the different Arts." He paused and Harry could feel Dumbledore's gaze burning into him. "The Johto/Kanto War was not the first time the Speakers and the Elemental Benders waged battle against one another."
Harry once more remained silent. He knew this too and while it would have been easily to tell Dumbledore of what Lugia had told him of the long forgotten wars amongst the different arts and how time and again each 'tribe' had nearly been wiped out by another only to rise back up stronger than ever… he did not.
It was not his place to speak of such to someone who was not a fellow Speaker.
"But as to your question… it has happened. Attempts have been made to broker peace between the different Arts and thus students have gone from one Art to another, to become a blend of the two. The Veela Knight Sir Joan DeArc. The Dream Lord-"
"What are Battle Lords, anyway?"
"Masters of battlefield tactics. Said to be able to slow time down to a crawl so they might be able to see all that is happening. Also able to see the 'shatterpoints' that allow them to determine how to best go forward and defeat any foe."
"Handy," Harry muttered to himself. "If I wasn't a Magnus I'd consider learning that one."
"Sadly Battle Lords are one of the Arts that has nearly died off. The last I heard a man named Leon was attempting to discover its secrets, though I can't say if he will succeed."
It seemed that Harry would be holding more secrets than he'd thought this day; he wouldn't be admitting that he'd approached Neville about learning Speaking. While he had known it would be risky, to train and someone in an ancient art that hadn't been fully used for centuries and whose only modern master STILL bowed to the wisdom of Lugia… Harry couldn't help but think it would be worth the risk. The Pride had a Veela, a Psychic, and a Speaker/Magnus Hybrid. A second Speaker would only help them, especially if Harry could help Ron and Ginny figure out how to be Magnus themselves. Neville though, despite having the talent to be a Speaker, had politely declined… because he wanted to focus on mastering the Battle Lord arts.
Turned out Barty Crouch Jr. had studied under the current, and secret, Battle Lord Master, and was now training Neville clandestinely.
'Not that Dumbledore will ever know,' Harry thought to himself. 'The Battle Lords… they've seen what happened the last time. "Got too big… too noisy". They saw that even when one is at the peak of power it can all come crashing down thanks to one man. The Speakers were utterly destroyed save for Lugia yet they had their revenge on the Elemental Benders and now they are the ones that teeter on extinction. The Veela are powerful now but only a century ago they were slaves to sex merchants, drugged up so much all they could do is lie there and allow the filth of the world to have their way with them. ' Harry shook his head. 'The world isn't ready for more Arts to return… whenever they grow in size something comes to blast them down.'
It was a lesson. A teaching moment. Power only existed for as long as you could cling to it. And the moment you let go, even for a moment, it would be gone. Taken from you. And what greater power was there then a secret?
He'd played dumb to gauge how much Dumbledore knew… just as the man was playing dumb with him when it came to how much he knew about Speakers.
Because Harry KNEW Dumbledore was hiding his knowledge of that Art.
Thus would be the dance between them. Harry would lie. Dumbledore would lie. Both would use the other to achieve their goals.
And he'd see just what happened when one no longer had use of the other.
