"Well well well," Fenrir Greyback said lazily, looking at Neville and his group. "What do we have here?"
Neville, threw out his arms, forcing the other students to stay behind him. He knew that was madness because it was fucking Fenrir Greyback and one didn't move to make themselves the subject of his attention but there he was, being an idiot again.
"You know who I am, boy?" the feral looking man growled, lips curling back into a smile that would have been better at home on some wolf in a fairy tale than on a person.
Neville's brain raced as he thought about all he'd seen in Barty's files. "Fenrir Greyback," he said quickly. "Birth date unknown. Parents unknown. Most likely that isn't even your real name."
"I did kill everyone that knew me when I was a pup and torched my files," Fenrir said with a lazy grin. "There is something so very… freeing about breaking fully from the past and being able to be your own man." He motioned for Neville to continue, clearly enjoying having his accomplishments spouted off.
'Keep him talking,' Neville thought to himself. 'And listening.' Out loud he said, "First appearance of your name was 25 years ago when it is believed you killed for the first time, slaughtering a known poacher."
"Yeah… that was my first true kill," Fenrir admitted. "Well, that I killed right then and there. Does it count if I hurt people so bad they later died of their wounds?" He turned to a Nocturne Grunt and chuckled, a deep rumbling sound like the first hints of an avalanche. "That technically is the fault of the doctors, not me… right?" The Grunt giggled at that and Fenrir turned back to Neville. "So yeah, that poacher was the first. I was hired to kill him and I did. Course my employer was startled when he realized the poacher was his own grandson… didn't like that. Wanted to try and get off paying me." Fenrir held up his hand, talon-like finger nails gleaming in the sun. "He was my second kill."
Neville didn't react to that. He had a feeling that Fenrir did things like that, made those comments, because he wanted a reaction. The man might look like he'd pulled himself out of a bush he'd slept in but Neville could tell at once there was a bit of showmanship in him. The need for others to pay attention to him. He could work with that.
"After that things get a bit more solid. You have a reputation."
"Well earned," Fenrir said politely. "Though-"
"Why are we fucking wasting time?!" one of the Nocturne agents demanded; Neville was honestly surprised that someone hadn't snapped sooner. The masked figure moved forward, gripping a Pokeball hard in his hand. "We're suppose to kill these brats so let's-"
Fenrir's hand snapped out, wrapping around the Nocturne agent's and squeezing. At once the masked figure went to his knees, crying out in pain as he tried to yank Fenrir's fingers open and free himself.
"There is no need to be rude," Fenrir growled even as he smiled, the Nocturne Agent's cries now little more than gibberish. Suddenly there was a sickening crack and the Agent let out a high pitch squeal as his hand shattered. The muscle bond mercenary rolled his eyes before grabbing another Pokeball from the agent's belt, activating the release button… before slamming the ball into the scream Agent's mouth.
Neville heard the students behind him scream as the ball activated and the Weezing that had been inside was released… in a hail of brain matter, skull pieces, and blood.
"Don't you just hate it when people interrupt your conversation?" Fenrir said with a smirk, only for it to fall when he saw that Neville was just staring him right down. "Oh, you have a darkness to you, kid."
"That man is wearing the mask of the people that tortured my parents to insanity," Neville said simply. He narrowed his eyes. "Kill them all and watch me care."
Fenrir paused before letting out a barking laugh at that. "Oh, I like you!" he sighed. "Too bad the guys filling my bank account want you dead. I think you and I could have some fun."
"Our definition of fun may be different."
"True, true," Fenrir said, rotating his shoulders. "I'd promise to make this quick and painless but that really isn't my style. But I'll try and make it not drag out. That work for you?"
"Neville," someone whispered behind him but he shook his head, hoping they'd shut up.
"What did you do to Prof. Kurak?"
Fenrir shrugged, moving away from the downed professor. "Oh, this and that. He went down like a bitch. One little hit-" he clapped his hands together. "I swear, I think he had a fucking heart attack when I laid into him. This school… really not coming up with the greatest teachers, are they?"
"I don't know," Kurak said suddenly, causing Fenrir to stop short. Neville looked past the mercenary to see his Head of House had leapt to his feet and knocked out two of the grunts near him before pulling out a pair of Pokeballs. "Maybe you're just dating the wrong people if they can't keep up with you."
"So… ready for round two, are ya?" Fenrir growled, clearly annoyed that a foe hadn't decided to do the decent thing and stay on the ground.
"We haven't even started Round One unless you call those love taps actual hits."
Fenrir cracked his knuckles. "Kid, watch what I do to your teacher… it's what I'm gonna do to you next!" With that Fenrir launched himself forward, fist cocked back. "I won't even use a Pokemon to take you out!"
Kurak easily dodged and kicked at Fenrir's leg, making the man snarl in pain as he twisted around, knocking over two Nocturne agents. "Because you're afraid they'll be embarrassed by how pathetic you are?"
The mercenary growled and moved into a series of punches and kicks but Neville watched, impressed, as Kurak continued to easily deflect and evade the blows. "Is this supposed to frighten me?" He ducked one hit and punched Fenrir in the side, making the hulking warrior roar in frustration. "You know, it took all my effort not to laugh when you thought you'd laid me out with that one hit…"
"I'm going to rip you in half!" Fenrir snarled, all of his politeness disappearing as he went into full rage t the shorter, thinner, less bulky professor continued to make him twist about like he was a drunken puppet.
"See, I think I figured it out," Kurak said as he actually leapt up, placed his hands on Fenrir's shoulders, and springboard over him. "You're used to people either running from you, so you have a chance to set up exactly how you want to come at them, or them rushing towards you because they think they can win through brute force. And you use that against them."
"Shut your mouth and die already!"
Kurak merely shook his head… and snapped his fingers. Suddenly half of the Nocturne Agents that had been standing around turned on their fellows, pummeling them with their fists. The startled agents tried to get out their Pokeballs but the turncoats were too fast, pounding into them with fists and feet, driving them into the ground. The surprise didn't last that long and soon it was an all out brawl but it was clear that the agents… who Neville realized weren't agents at all but rather infiltrators… were at the disadvantage thanks to the surprise attack.
"But have someone actually working to avoid your blows and you can't do much, can you?" Kurak smirked and threw off lab coat, Fenrir snarling and panting even as one of the turncoat agents tossed the Head of Gryffindor a duffle bag. Kurak smirked as he opened it up, acting like he was just getting ready for a spring hike through the forest, and pulled out a decorative wristband and a watch, slipping both on; Neville for the first time noticed that the Head of Gryffindor had tattoos on his wrists. "But here is the problem you are facing, big boy," Kurak continued. "I ain't like everyone else." He took out a gold necklace with a pendant of some kind on it and slipped it on before turning his back on Fenrir, pulling out a black and gold leather jacket. "I know what it's like when the boss hits ya, and hits ya, and doesn't let up!"
He tugged on the coat, the emblem of a skull leering back at Neville.
Kurak whipped around, revealing he was wearing a pair of decorative golden shades, an almost manic grin on his face as the turncoats threw off their cloaks to reveal they were wearing bandanas over their mouths and skull beanies.
"Wanna see what destruction looks like? Here it is in human form—it's your boy Guzma!"
~MC~MC~MC~
"It's times like this that I really hate being a Steel Specialist."
Luna glanced over at Jasmine as she helped a first year Puff get into one of the boats. The Marills that pulled the boats during the first day at Hogwarts were agitated, constantly looking back at Hogwarts. The Mistress of the Veela didn't blame them, as it was taking all her willpower not to just stop and stare at the roof of the castle and the battle that was occurring there. They couldn't see who was actually standing on the roof itself but they could see three flying types going at it: A Braviary, a Noctowl, and a Moltres. Only the battle had suddenly been flipped on its head as the Noctowl and the Braviary had decided to stop fighting each other and team up against the Moltres, firing attacks at it and forcing the Pokemon to back away as quickly as it could, leading to a new chase over the top of the roof. To add to the insanity was that Luna could see attacks flashing on the roof itself… and one of those was Zygarde's Petrifaction Beam.
No… Luna had to focus on getting the Puffs to safety.
"I need something that can actually swim," Jasmine complained as she sent out her Skarmory while her Aegislash detached from her place on Jasmine's back and began to gather up ropes. There was an explosion behind her and Jasmine grimaced. "Something to worry about later though."
"Are you sure this is safe?" Hannah Abbot asked nervously. She had her arm around a firstie who was sniffling, clearly scared out of their little mind. Luna reached over and flooded the boy with peace and calm emotions, causing him to slump down and fall asleep; she wasn't surprised as fear and terror could wipe one out. It was part of the reason why Luna was so energetic: she'd lived so much of her childhood in terror after what she'd seen during her mother's death that she had stamina to spare.
"It is," Jasmine assured her. "We have the Ghost of Olivine coming in from the North and there are Sons stationed on the islands that will keep you safe."
Luna shot her a look. "You planned for this?"
Jasmine whistled and Skarmory began to pull the boat away from the shore, joining the others. "We planned for Nocturne to show up and we'd ambush them. We've been monitoring them, waiting for them to make their move, and we'd been ready to take them all at once. The plan was supposed to be that they'd land on the islands and get scooped up while Da and Harry secured the school."
"Instead the opposite happened," Luna said.
Jasmine nodded grimly at that. "Yeah…" she glanced up at the roof of Hogwarts. "It all got flipped. Before you ask I have no idea… but Voldemort is the reason."
"He's here?"
"He's on that roof," Jasmine said coolly. "It's Dumbledore."
Luna blinked at that before she felt a rare emotion for her, one she honestly hadn't felt in ages.
Anger.
"Harry knew?"
"He did," Jasmine confirmed. "Just me, him, Uncle Jack, and my dad. No one else. We had to keep it quiet."
"So all these months he's been allowing himself to be locked up in an office with the monster that killed his parents and never bothered to tell anyone about it?" Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Oooooooh! That boy and I are going to have a long chat about trust!"
There was an explosion on the other side of the castle.
"Save it for when we're not dead," Jasmine grunted. "Now come on, we need to get to the Ghost so the reinforcements can end this."
~MC~MC~MC~
"So all this time," the phantom wearing Dumbledore's face said, launching himself easily over a blast of Aura Harry fired his way, "you have been using me." He caught himself in a springboard move, twisting in the air before righting himself and pulling out a Pokeball, sending out his Espeon in order to deal with Leon. "I must say Harry… I am rather proud at your underhandedness and your cunning. It truly warms my heart."
"Do you even have a heart?" Harry asked as rushed forward, trying to get in close to blast Voldemort in the shoulder again, hoping to do more damage to the already injured limb. But the murderer in the Dumbledore Suit thrust out his hands and fired off twin blasts of energy, forcing Harry to dodge. Leon and Espeon were clawing and biting at each other while Moltres continued to fire on Azog and Zygarde, forcing the two titans back. Voldemort tossed out another Pokemon, this one releasing his Heatmor who fired a glut of flames as Zygarde, forcing him to turn his attention on the smaller flame type, which in turned allowed Fawkes to break off from Azog and return to battling Hedwig and Jack's Braviary.
"A physical one? Yes, right in here," Voldemort said, tapping his chest. "Or do you mean in the metaphystical sense?" He smirked and Harry felt a chill run down his spine, wondering if that smile was the last thing his father and mother had seen before their deaths as Voldemort had told them all he was going to do to their baby. "Considering how many people I have consumed you could argue I have more hearts than you-"
Jack suddenly sprang forward and Voldemort had to cut himself short, blocking with Aura-enhanced limbs as the Father of Johto swung his weapons at him rapidly.
"Always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Voldemort said lightly, almost teasingly. "That seems to be the story of your life, Kenway. And how has that worked out for you."
"A free Johto shows it worked pretty well."
"For them," Voldemort said, his tone bored despite the fact that him and Jack were trading deadly blows. "But what about you, Hmmm? How has it worked out for you?"
Uppercut blocked with an X strike.
Leg sweep leapt over only for a strike to the side.
Headbutt then a blast of energy.
Voldemort leapt back but still stared down Jack, eyes twinkling like mad. But where before when Dumbledore had done that it had been to comfort students… or annoy them that he was hiding some secret… with Voldemort the glittering in his pupils merely made him look at the more demented.
"Half of the world fears you, if we are being modest," Voldemort taunted, Jack and him circling one another. Harry had been completely forgotten about which was fine by the teen as he was trying to sneak around and take out the Espeon, knowing that Voldemort's pokemon could really screw with people if it was allowed to unleash its psychic attacks. "More likely three fourths of them tremble at your name… when they aren't wishing you were dead." He smiled, bemused. "I do believe that there are more people that hate and fear you than there are that do me. Far more love me."
"Being the king of the shitbags isn't something to be proud of," Jack said, twirling his escrima sticks. "But of course what do you have to be proud of, hmm? What have you ever managed to actually do? You're little more than a parasite that leeches off others and even then that does nothing to actually place your accomplishments in the history books."
"The world trembles at my name," Voldemort stated.
"You just said more people do that with my name. Do try and keep up."
The two leapt at each other again, limbs swirling about as they collided.
Harry, for his part, went on the attack, launching himself at Espeon and firing his blaster. Voldemort's Pokemon snarled and fired a Psy-Cutter at him, tearing up greater bits of the roof, but Harry leapt over the fissures and grabbed hold of a vine Leon sent out, swinging around so he could slam his feet into the Espeon's side. The Pokemon went down quick but was right back on his feet within moments, snapping his jaws before unleashes a Crucio, making Harry cry out in pain-
Firebolt unleashed a gut of flames, forcing Espeon to break off the attack.
"Thanks," he muttered only to groan when Voldemort broke off from Jack and tossed out two more Pokeballs, sending out his Krookidile and Dumbldore's Sableye. "Wonderful!" Harry groused. "Leon?"
"I can handle mom… pop… whatever the fuck that one is." He clawed at the tar roof. "You help Jack, Firebolt will take Sableye. Azog and Zygarde will deal with the Krookidile and the Heatmor I guess."
"Deal," Harry said before he leapt back into battle. 'These guys are far too strong for what their ages are… what is Voldemort doing to get them to fight beyond their levels?' He chanced a look at Zygarde who was having a hard time nailing down the Heatmor. 'This doesn't make any sense…' "Voldemort!" Harry called out as he rushed forward, charging up his hands with Aura and throwing a sloppy punch at the headmaster's face. He knew it was never going to connect but he needed the bastard to focus on him, to give Jack a chance to regroup. "So I have to know," Harry said as he moved to kick Voldemort's ankle only for the bastard to easily sidestep away, "what exactly was it that got Dumbledore to accept you?"
"That is your first question?" Voldemort asked. "How very… curious."
"I don't see why. It's a legit question after all." Harry and him were now trading blows and if it weren't' for the fact that the bastard's eyes were glowing green and purple Harry would have been able to assume this was just a training exercise. A bit of friendly sparring between teacher and student rather than a battle to the death. 'Well, his death… he needs me alive. That is the only advantage I have.'
Voldemort caught Harry's wrist and gave it a hard twist before shaking his head. "I suppose you're right, my boy." That was another think Harry had noticed about Voldemort: whatever body he took over seemed to alter his personality. With Quirrell it had been barely constrained loathing. With Cho it had been petulantness. Moody had made him rather calm, temping even. With Dumbledore he had the air of, well, a professor. That this was a lesson that was being taught rather than a battle to decide the fate of Avalon.
And Harry realized that might just be the trick to defeating him.
"I suppose it is rather interesting, isn't it?" Voldemort said and Harry wondered if he even realized that their blows were slowing… nothing most people would notice but it wasn't the frantic pace it had been moments ago. "What is someone's greatest desire."
"Can you word it differently? My shrink has a patient who talks like that."
Voldemort struck Harry in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him, but rather than push the advantage he continued to talk. "With everyone it is different. Everyone has something they desire so greatly it makes them lose all sense of self preservation. Sometimes its pathetically simple… I've consumed souls that just wanted a bit of gold or a warm place to sleep. Others… oh, others are so much harder to crack." His eyes twinkled at that. "Those are the most fun, I admit. The ones that truly make things interesting."
"And Dumbledore?"
"He was a hard one to figure out but in the end when I did I was… disappointed. It was rather pathetic, all things considered." He paused, smirking. "Care to guess?"
"Socks?" Harry asked.
Voldemort shot him a dry look. "A second chance." He held his arms out wide and flared out a burst of aura. "Dumbledore was dying. Cancer. It was slowly eating him up inside, hollowing him out and leaving him empty. He thought he was ready to die, of course… had I not returned when I did, waited maybe a few more years, he would have gone on to his Next Great Adventure without a struggle. But my arrival and you… well, you not living up to what he desired? That forced his hand." He gave a sad shake of his head and Harry and him began to circle each other. Harry knew the danger of this; while he was getting a second wind so was Voldemort. And it was always a bad idea to give that bastard a chance; he'd tanked through Jack and Lance's Dark Maelstron-Draco Lightning attack after all and that was after a fight.
"You aren't going to claim it's my fault, are you?"
"I considered," Voldemort admitted. "But I've come to realize that things have changed this year. During your 3rd and 4th year I might have had a chance to use that guilt as a weapon but you've… evolved." He grinned and that leering look was so wrong on Dumbledore's features. "It will make our battle all the sweeter when I finally break you." He shrugged lazily and continued. "But Dumbledore… he wanted to live. Wanted to try and make right all he had done. He thought he could bend me to his will, that since he understood all I could do that he'd be able to resist. He was wrong."
"Obviously," Harry said. "And the Aura?"
"I left just enough of Dumbledore's soul intact in order to pull it off. Difficult, I admit, but I manage. It is similar to what I did with dear dear Tom… left just enough to get me into the Chamber."
"If you think that will be a comfort to me that you'd let a part of my soul wiggle in agony while you destroyed everyone I cared about you're sadly mistaken," Harry said darkly.
"What is agony for one is pleasure for another," Voldemort reasoned.
"That sounds… creepy," Harry stated. "And I mean not even coming from you. From Dumbledore."
Voldemort actually blinked at that, reaching up and touching his face. "Ah… I keep forgetting his flesh is still old and worn. I'll be fixing that soon if you don't play along."
"You can do that?" Harry asked, both surprised and wanting to file away more information about his enemy.
"But of course! It is the deal I made with Dumbledore! I can do amazing things… wonderful things. Is it such a crime then that I ask for payment? Does a doctor not demand their bill be paid? Why shouldn't I be the same way my boy?"
"Mostly because I don't remember my doctor wanting to eat my soul like spaghetti-"
Jack leapt at Dumbledore, escrima sticks crackling with lightning.
Voldemort's hand lashed out, catching him by the throat and easily holding him still.
"Nice try, Harry my boy, nice try." He regarded Jack with mild interest. "That was a rather clever ruse, to get me to talk but-"
Harry fired his blaster, sending out Sid's Pokeball so that the Poison/Electric type formed right in front of Dumbledore and blasted him with a wave of acidic poison. Jack responded by lashing out with his foot, kicking Voldemort in the chin and snapping his head back. That released him and Jack jammed his escrima sticks into Voldemort's side, shocking him until Fawkes let loose a gut of flames that forced them all to separate.
"-it won't be enough." Voldemort shook his head in disappointment. "How did you believe this would go, my boy? Did you truly believe that you and your little rebel friend here would be able to get the drop on me?"
"You didn't expect us to know how you really were, did you?" Harry taunted and Dumbledore's face puckered at that.
"A… minor setback."
"Tell me," Jack said as he rubbed his throat, "what was YOUR endgame here, Voldemort? What did you honestly think was going to happen? Because Harry has made it clear, even after our faked falling out, that he was never going to side with you."
"Many people have claimed that through the millennia," Voldemort told him. "I'd list all their names but honestly I've forgotten them all."
"Not exactly making your case for us to become one," Harry said firmly.
"No… I suppose not," the Spiritomb said with a sigh. Down below they heard shouts and explosions. "Nocturne seems to be doing a rather good job of sowing chaos. The Ministry will be so confused when they finally arrive and find Johto Rebels and Nocturne Agents feuding with the future of Avalon dead at their feet."
"My friends are getting them out," Harry warned him.
"So you've sent your friends to die against Nocturne just so you could seize the glory of defeating me." He sighed. "Oh Harry, I thought you cared for them."
"Don't listen to him," Jack said sternly. "Fucking mind games."
"Everything he says is either a lie or the truth warped to suit his needs," Harry said firmly, shifting when the roof trembled again, a reminder that there still fights being waged around them. "I don't give a damn what he says."
"So you say… so you say," Voldemort told him with a casual shrug. "Then I suppose all I can do is end this quickly. Don't worry though my boy… I won't hurt you much. After all-" his eyes flashed with purple light, "-hurting you is like hurting myself."
And with that Voldemort suddenly threw out his hands and let fly a wave of ectoplasmic energy that curled and twisted around his Pokemon, causing them to howl and scream as their bodies stiffened.
"What the fuck?" Harry exclaimed in surprise.
"Team Cipher merely copied what I began!" Voldemort declared, green energy pouring out of his mouth and eyes, reminding Harry of when he'd first seen the bastard when he'd been living in Quirrell's body. A part of his mind, far from the battle, idly wondered why Voldemort had possessed Quirrell differently than he had the rest of his hosts…
All of Dumbledore/Voldemort's pokemon let out a final scream before there was a flash of light and Harry realized he had better things to focus on than that.
Heatmor seemed to swell larger, his coloring shifting from orange and red to blue and black. He unleashed a burst of flames from his mouth and despite how small the fire had been Harry instantly felt like he'd stepped into an oven. The tar on the roof around the Heatmor began to grow soft and sticky as the fire type took a step forward.
Sableye let out a mad cackle as it held out a massive gem, so large that it was more like a shield than a bobble. Its eyes gleamed with twisted glee as it considered the foes, ready to tear them to shreds with its elongated claws.
Krookodile let out a dark chuckle as he snapped his arms, the chains that had appeared around them slamming heavily into the ground. He had nearly doubled in size, muscles expanding in his arms until they were as solid and thick as steel girders. And considering the bits of metal now growing out of his flesh it was very likely that was exactly what they were.
But the most shocking was Fawkes.
The legendary narrowed his eyes, black wings beating slowly to help it remain hovering even though that should have been impossible. Its wings were thin, thinner than they had been before, and where once the flames that burst from its appendages had been orange and yellow now they were various shades of pink… but not the 'cute, innocent' colors. The 'corrupted, poisonous, vile' kind. But worst of all was the feeling that came from Fawkes. The aura of death that seemed to burst from him like a blast furnace.
"Fuck me," Jack whispered. "He made it a Galarian Moltres."
Voldemort smirked. "Attack."
