The Last Refugee

Kiloude Island

Kalos

Cynthia let out a sigh and collapsed into her recliner, her head rolling up to look at the ceiling of her summer home. To her side on an endtable sat her dex, which she had just closed, and to her other side was her lovely wife who was shooting her the darkest of looks.

"It wasn't him. He's been with Lance the entire time and Lance wouldn't let him do that."

"I told you that," Diantha said with a huff, passing her wife a glass of scotch. "How you could think Jack would ever do that-"

"I didn't want to think it!" Cynthia complained. "But I had to make sure! Couldn't take the risk he'd… snapped."

"Snapped," Diantha said with a scoff. "You know once he thinks this through he's going to be heartbroken you didn't trust him,"she said softly, walking over to their bay window and staring down at Kiloude City that laid below their summer estate. The Last Refugee had been in the Delacour family for generations and normally served as the residence of the Delacour Heir until they claimed the title of Lord or Lady. But with Cynthia now Lady Malfoy the family had decided to make Bois de Rose, the ancestral house of House Malfoy, as they home. It was on the mainland and more convenient than the island house, though not a magical, Diantha could admit. Fleur would, in a few years, take The Last Refuge as her own while Gabrielle would eventually get 21A Rue Noir which laid south of Lumiose City as her own home. When it had been built The Last Refuge had been true to its name, serving as a getaway from a weary and loud world of Kalos, a way to escape the court intrigue and political backstabbing that seemed to forever infect Kalosian Politics. The island had been isolated, with only a few basic shops and an antique dock that made it anything but abandoned. But Diantha's father Claude had sought to bring the island into the modern day and worked with the Battle Sisters to turn the island into a resort. At times Diantha loved it, as it meant that shopping and entertainment was only a causal stroll away, but she did miss the quiet of the island from her youththat would never return. "He would have never believed you would do something like that."

Cynthia looked down at her drink before whispering, "I know."

"He's been working to shed himself of the stain that has been placed on his character. Lance and him are back together, Clair tells me that he finally thinks it's safe enough for them to try for a baby… now this. And to have you-"

"You don't need to make me feel any worse!" Cynthia shouted. She held her head in her hands and whispered, "I feel bad enough as it is."

Diantha considered her wife for a moment before walking over and running her fingers through her hair. "You are his favorite, you realize that right?"

"Bullshit," Cynthia said with a coughing laugh. "You know people think you two are lovers; that I slept with Lance to make Fleur and you and Jack had a passionate night to make Gabrielle."

"They think him and Lance are lovers," Diantha said with a snort. "I take little stock in what the gossping busy bodies have to say."

"Jack and Lance is too like Jack and Jonas… too close for him to consider." The Lady Malfoy paused and smirked. "Sirius on the other hand…"

"Those are only rumors."

"That Jack's done nothing to dissuade. Clair neither and its said she was right there with them that night..."

Diantha laughed. "They say you had a threesome with Jack and Clair too."

"They say Jack has slept with everyone and half the time Clair joins in," Cynthia said with a chuckle while her wife poured her another drink. After the news of Little Surrey she needed both. "Did you ever…"

"…what?"

"You know."

"With Jack?" Diantha asked. When Cynthia nodded Diantha pursed her lips. "What constitutes sex in this scenario?"

"The fact that you ask that raises some eyebrows!" Cynthia exclaimed, taking a sip of her wine.

"Just curious." When Cynthia merely stared her down Diantha finally rolled her eyes. "Last trip before graduating, when me and him had to share a bed when we were in Sinnoh. We'd had that fight about the pears? He felt me up and I let him because I was thinking about you. He was asleep and didn't even realize he'd done it."

"I always wondered why you looked so tired." Cynthia looked down at her drink once more. "When you were filming 'The Last Kalosian', when we were on that break, and I came out to my family and my aunt attacked me… you remember how he came to Kalos because I was upset and spent the day as my servant?" Diantha nodded. "At the end of the night I got really drunk and…"

"You didn't!" Diantha gasped in shock and amusement.

"I wanted to see what the fuss was about and he'd agreed to do whatever I demanded. He also didn't get offended when I began gagging and declaring how gross it was. Annoyed, I think, but not offended. You aren't mad, are you?"

"More wondering if I should ask him now to let me have a try. Seems only fair. I might not mind it as much-"

"Oh be quiet!" Cynthia exclaimed, trying to bat at her wife only for her to flutter away. Silence flew between them before Cynthia finally said, "This is bad though, right?"

"Insanely bad," Diantha agreed. "And not just for Jack."

"Who has to tell Luna?"

"No one!" Fleur declared as she marched in. She eyed her mothers' drinks but one look from the couple made it clear that while other Kalos families let their children drink at young ages they were still making Fleur wait till she was 21. "She got an alert on her dex."

"How is she handling it?" Diantha asked, dreading the answer.

"She's standing on top of a telephone pole staring at the horizon "dramatically"," Fleur said dryly.

"Of course she is," Cynthia said, rubbing her temples. "I've never met a Veela who clings to antics like she does. Is someone watching her?"

"I told Gabrielle to keep an eye on her in case she says something. Otherwise her Pokémon won't let her fall. You know how protective they are."

Cynthia and Diantha both looked at each other and rubbed their shoulders respectively, remembering when they'd tried to teach Luna how to fight two-against-one only for Luna Jr (her Marowak), Neville Jr. (her newly evolved Chesnaught), and Whomper (her Sudowoodo) to burst out of their Pokeballs and begin attacking them until Luna sheepishly called them off.

"Want me to go?" Diantha asked finally.

"We both should go," Cynthia said with a tired moan. "After Gabrielle is done I'm never training another Veela. Get someone else to do it. Luna has worn me out."

Training Veelas was always hard because they were nothing like the other Arts. The ladies didn't know what went fully into training an Element Bender or a Dream Walker or a Speaker (though with the latter the two probably knew more than most thanks to Jack sharing a few tidbits when he could) she did know how a Pokemagnus was trained, as well as a few other of the Arts and they all followed strict training regiments with expected results. So long as there was a Master present it was highly unlikely for something to go wrong or for there to be something out of the norm. Not so for Veela; by their very nature, being creates of emotion itself, their training could be volatile and wild... or bland and predictable. Each one was different and that was the problem.

It was said that Veelas went through three emotional stages in life. The first was an over-sensitivity to emotions that, to those that did not understand them, could make a young Veela appear to be flighty, dreamy, or a 'manic pixie'. It was done to try and bring about good, happy emotions and chase away negative ones. Those with parents who understood Veela nature could temper these urges so they, for the most part, behaved like normal children. In the case of Luna her father had already been a bit mad so it only was brought out to the extreme. The second stage, when they reached puberty, was a time where a Veela seemed to become stuck in one or two emotions if not taught the proper meditations and exercises. Cynthia had been filled with tears mixed with almost manic laughter. Diantha had gone through a violent streak that had seen the Kenway brothers and Lance needing to spar with her until she could focus enough to perform her exercises and center herself. Fleur had acted as if all emotions had been ripped from her, behaving like the ice princess some labeled her as. As for Gabrielle the two women didn't even want to know what she would be like and were happy to wait a few more years before beginning her training. Then, after a few years, the exercises would be cast aside and the Veela would have full control, revealing her true self to the world. It was the same with all of them.

Except Luna.

Luna was... odd.

Cynthia was convinced Luna had somehow discovered how to internalize her emotions even in her second stage, which should have been impossible. Diantha was convinced Luna had developed a variation of Dissociative identity Disorder; rather than creating completely new personalities Luna merely crafted alternate versions of herself. Each was Luna but different, as if all forms and realities and possibilities of the silvery blonde were forced to live in the same form. Fleur thought Luna was just nuts and Gabrielle thought her to be the best playmate ever.

As Cynthia, Diantha, and Fleur headed towards the back yard the two older women both shared the same thought: whatever caused her quirks Luna was the strongest Veela either of them had encountered and wouldn't so much claim the title of Mistress of Veela the two of them shared but rather rip it away from them both and take it as her own without even realizing it.

The girl seemed to both reject everything they were trying to do and absorbed it like a sponge. She would listen to how an exercise or meditation should be done and then twist it to fit her own desires. Most frightening was what Diantha had coined her 'Battle Meditation'. Where most Veela had to work to learn how to fight while also remaining in control of their emotions (and thus why any Veela the two trained were taught martial arts in a controlled setting) the act of fighting seemed to actually serve as meditation for Luna. Sitting still on the ground in the lotus position would only result in her squirming. But let her go on a run or punch a weighted bag the all could feel her control suddenly snap into place. Luna also hated quiet places or the standard meditation spots; they'd tried parks and quiet clearings and she'd get bored but during a Kalos Carnival the two had discovered her easily slipping into a relaxed state amongst the screaming kids and loud rides. Where influxes of emotions from crowds normally messed up a Veela Luna instead was like a Sea Goddess who was only happy when the oceans were raging with a typhoon.

Thus why it wasn't a surprise for any of the Malfoy-Delacours to find Luna Lovegood standing steadily on a telephone pole, staring off in the direction of what Cynthia realized was the Whirl Islands. She was wearing the long red coat that she'd purchased in Lumoise a few weeks ago, the wind catching the ends of it and causing it to billow behind her. The same breeze had also taken hold of her loose silvery hair, making the locks flow behind her with an almost ethereal grace. Her hands were clasped in front of her, Lucius Malfoy's cane (which Luna had altered so that the head was now designed to look like a roaring dragon's skull) gripped in her fingers. Her body didn't sway at all as the three women, along with Gabrielle (who had been tasked with watching Luna and make sure she didn't do anything foolish... or more foolish as it were) craned their necks to stare at her.

"Luna?" Diantha called out.

"It's all lies, you know," Luna said loud enough for them to hear her. There was no anger in her voice, only an odd acceptance. "Voldemort is trying to hurt Harry. That's why he killed those people. Snuffed them out. Robbed from us all their memories, so we might never know the sights their eyes gazed upon. But such is the fate for all of us. I've seen things you people wouldn't believe... attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion… I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost, in time, like tears in rain."

"...I think that's from Alien," Cynthia whispered.

"Blade Runner, please get it right," Luna called out, a slight smile tugging on her lips before she refocused on the horizon. "They need me now. More than you need me. More than I need you. I will return though... to complete my training, Master Yoda."

"And that's Star Wars," Fleur said. "Even I know that one."

Luna merely smirked before placing two fingers on her forehead... and suddenly disappearing.

"She... has a psychic Pokémon, right?" Diantha whispered. "One that knows teleport?"

Cynthia just shook her head. "I don't even know anymore."

~MC~MC~MC~

Azalea Town

Johto

The hammer came down with a hard clang, the sound dissipating and leaving only the crackling of the flames and the pumping of the billows to fill the air. Sparks flew and swear ran down Ron's forehead but he welcomed both the sting and the heat like old friends. Once more he raised the hammer before bringing it down on the sheet of metal before grabbing his tongs and lifted it up to check it for flaws before placing it once more into the flames.

"Bring the heat up slowly," he said to his Emboar, the massive fire-type nodding and lowering his nose to the furnace and letting an almost gentle steam of flame shoot out. "That's it," Ron muttered, waiting until the metal was glowing hot before removing it once more and taking it over to the half-dome cast iron inverted mold, steadying the plate on top of it with his tongs while selecting a smaller hammer and beginning the process of shaping the metal into what would become the top half of a Pokéball. His taps became less powerful, more gentle and considerate as he worked to get the metal perfectly aligned. Dark Iron behaved differently from the metals he'd worked with the year before in Flitwick's class; rather than having to force it into its shape the steel seemed to want to become a Pokeball and just needed someone to guide it towards its goal.

Finally satisfied Ron took the inverted mold and the Dark Iron out of the forging area and out back where his Beartic was waiting, sitting in the shade of a tree. He didn't even need to speak, choosing to just flash 4 fingers so that Beartic knew how long he needed to chill the metal. Satisfied that the Pokeball's metal shell would be finished without him needing to supervise Ron walked over to a trough of water and dunked his head inside, letting the cool water soak into his skin for a moment before he threw his head back, long red hair sending water droplets flying behind him.

"Hmmm… need to get this cut," he muttered to himself as he worked to get his mane back into the messy ponytail he'd taken to wearing it in.

"I don't know… I rather like it," Maizie said with a smirk as she walked over, Ron chuckling even as Master Kurt's granddaughter reached out and tugged on the long locks. "But maybe we should give you pigtails instead. Give me something to grab onto as I'm riding you."

"Would you stop that," Ron exclaimed, batting her hand away. "Master Kurt is going to kill me if he hears you talking like that."

"Only if you did it without her consent," Kurt stated, making his presence known. "Maizie's a big girl and can make her own choices… but they need to be hers." The old Pokéball Smith nodding towards the right and Maizie, getting the hint, darted off. The old man huffed before walking over to where Beartic was still working on cooling the Pokéball. "The Snowfall Pokéball?"

"I knew you had an order for one and I wanted to get it done for you," Ron said, rubbing his forehead with his muscular forearm. He glanced at the limb for a moment, marveling at the muscle he had gained over the summer. His right arm was more highly developed than his left, as it was the one he used to swing his hammer, but that didn't mean his left was scrawny either. Baby fat had given way to hard earned muscle and his latest growth spurt had seen his shoulders broaden even more. When Charlie had come to visit a few weeks back his older brother had been shocked by his appearance, commenting that the two of them could be twins. He'd even gotten Ron a Charizard tooth earring though Ron had instead made it into a necklace as while he could handle molten metal the idea of sticking a needle in his flesh freaked him out. Still, Charlie had been right: Ron had grown during the summer. Scars lined his arms from working with the hot metals and his muscles had swelled from days spent pounding out Pokéballs in the forge. His fingers had hard calluses from the hours that he'd worked to break open and clean apricorns. And of course there was his hair, which he was sure his mum would scream over. She'd always bemoaned how Bill and Charlie had allowed themselves to look like 'maniac highwaymen' with their grown out hair and Charlie with his earring. Even Bill, who had to wear a suit half the time when he worked with the Josephs, had tattoos running up and down his arms. His mother had been hopeful that he and Percy would buck the trend (as Fred and George were lost causes) but now Ron knew he would shatter her hopes with his muscular and scarred forearms and his tied back hair and bronze skin that made his red hair not stick out as much.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Kurt asked as Beartic finally finished cooling the shell and Ron returned him and Emboar.

"Yeah," Ron said, rubbing the back of his head. "Hate to leave but I'd hate myself more if I didn't. He's my friend, my best mate. I can't not be there."

"Good," Kurt said firmly, to Ron's surprise. The old man shook his head in annoyance. "I'd be worried if you didn't. Too many in our field forget that blood outweighs metal. I've had too many apprentices set aside family and friends because they were more concerned with impressing me. They learned the hard way that I value family over everything else." He jerked his thumb towards where Maizie had wandered off. "You'd think they'd have learned how important blood is to me."

Ron quietly nodded at that. Maizie was a lot like Harry when it came to tragic backstories. She'd lost her parents during the Team Rocket incident, the two of them trying to protect the Slowpokes and Kurt had raised her ever since, dealing with his grief through seeing her become a capable young woman. Kurt had told Ron about it a month or so ago as they'd worked an all-nighter to get a shipment of Tsunami Balls done for the Elite-4. He'd used it as a lesson, that sometimes life was stupid and cruel and people didn't always die in ways that made sense or were noble. Sometimes they died because idiots wanted to sell Slowpoke Tails.

"When are you leaving?" Kurt asked.

"In a few hours. I'm already packed but… it didn't feel right not to get the order done."

"You're a good lad, Ron," Kurt said, clapping him on the shoulder, "and if you actually apply yourself and stop being lazy in everything 'cept making balls-" Ron blushed at that, "-you'll be an even greater man." Kurt walked over to where they hung their tools, looking thoughtfully at all the ones hanging there. "What do you plan to do?"

"Stand by Harry's side through all this mess. After that? Figure it out as I go."

"At least you have your priorities straight," Kurt said before finally selected a hammer. "You've been using this one the most, right?"

"Yes, Master."

"Take it with you. And convince that professor of yours, the short fellow you were telling me about, to let you have at it in his workshop. I expect you to come back some day and teach me a thing or two."

"I will," Ron said. He paused, licking his lips, "About Maizie-"

"Young love," Kurt said, waving Ron off. "Either it happens or it doesn't. You treated her with respect though so you won't end up being shoved in my forge. But you'll write to her, you hear me? She's going back to Olivine Point this year and I expect you to send plenty of messages to her. At the very least get some of the suitors there jealous she has an Avalonian boy out there who likes to chat with her."

"I will, Master," Ron laughed.

Kurt considered Ron for a long moment before holding up three fingers. "Never let a friend stand alone." He folded one of his fingers down. "Never risk your life needlessly." He folded down another. "Never allow injustice to occur unless. Come back to us, boy… as a hero and not a corpse."

~MC~MC~MC~

Castelia City

Unova

Cedric hurried down the hall of Dr. Fennel's lab, dodging one of her many research assistants that seemed to be forever darting about the many research rooms and entryways. Honestly, the Avalonian young man didn't know why the professor had so many assistants when it seemed like, at least to Cedric, that there wasn't that much for them to work on.

'Not that working for Fennel isn't hectic,' he thought to himself as he dodged yet another lab coat wearing assistant and made his way towards the Variant Room. 'Seems like every day we are discovering something new, something different. But it is always Fennel and us, not the rest of these people. I don't even know what they do.' He shook his head and smiled slightly. 'Of course, they probably say the same thing about us. Who knows what Fennel has cooking that she doesn't tell us about. Research goes in all sorts of mad directions that one can't predict… lord knows ours didn't.'

When Hermione and him and arrived in Kalos and Dr. Fennel's lab the Dream World researcher had made clear to them that they shouldn't be surprised if their research went in odd directions. She'd admitted to them one evening after work that her original experiments had been focused on harnessing the Pokémon Munna's Dream Mist as a new clean energy source and it had only been by accident that she'd discovered the psychic connection she'd coined 'The Dream World'. The Dream Walkers of Kalos, who were able to enter the dreams of Pokémon in order to develop deeper connections with them, had also assisted but had marveled at what Fennel had discovered, as the Dream World took what they did not just to the next level but several levels beyond that. To be able to interact with Pokémon that lived miles and sometimes even regions away, to make connections so deep that these Pokémon would migrate to Fennel's lab to meet the trainers, and would bring with them rare items or possess abilities and attacks undocumented by scientists… it was utterly startling to the Dream Walkers and led to a resurgence in their Art as it seemed that if a Dream Walker used the Dream Mist to enter the Dream World they'd be able to do so on their own without aid permanently.

It had worked well for Fennel too as she had gotten several Dream Walkers to train her assistances. Not to the level of the Dream Walkers but with assistance of the Dream Mist and Fennel's machines it was possible. Cedric himself had gone into the Dream World though he hadn't yet met a Pokémon he held a deep enough connection with to have them travel to join their team.

Such experiments though had been what had led to Fennel's prediction coming true. For while Cedric had taken to the Dream World much as any trainer would Hermione's reaction had, for lack of a better word, unlocked something in her. Something none of them had suspected but with hindsight was obvious.

What other explanation was there for Hermione continually connecting with Psychic Type Pokémon?

The Variant Room was where Fennel stuck those experiments and discoveries that didn't meet what she was currently studying and hadn't been designated a lab and team of their own. Once she figured out what to do with them they'd either get moved to a permanent room or be shipped off to another professor. In the last month alone she'd sent off a Haunter that had been causing problems in the dream world because it, apparently, could perform a modified version of Dream Eater that functioned as a Ghost Version of a One Hit Faint attack. Prof. Kukui of Alola had been ecstatic to get his hands on the ghost.

Cedric paused. 'Probably not a good idea to put Hermione in the same category as a Haunter.' Shaking off that thought he entered the room.

Hermione was seated on a low platform, her legs folded in the classic lotus position, her eyes half shut as she focused. On her head was a band with a focus crystal embedded in it that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. She was wearing a simple tee shirt and yoga pants, her feet bare as she held out her hands towards the two lab assistants that were gathered around her. Each of assistants were holding, of all things, a squirt gun, and would try and raise them only for Hermione to snap her hand out, making the universal signal to stop. Sometimes one would draw his gun up three or four times before the other would do so, with there being no rhyme or reason to when they drew. That though was the point. Cedric himself had designed the test to help Hermione explore the growing psychic powers that she'd unlocked upon her first journey into the Dream World. She had to read their minds and know when they were going to draw so she could hold up her hand when an assistant raised the gun or she'd get squirted and thus fail the test. They'd started with one person and then moved onto two. Next they would add a third before having the men try and flood Hermione's mind with chaotic thoughts.

Unlike most psychics like the famous Sabrina Amino in Kanto Hermione had almost no ability for telekinesis. But her telepathy had scored far higher than it should have for a novice and her ability to quickly adapt to the sudden emergence of her powers had left Fennel baffled and Hermione needing help to master her abilities.

"Hermione?" Cedric said softly, not wanting to startle her.

Without even cracking an eye the teen said, "You're here to talk about Harry... about the attack on Little Surrey."

Cedric blinked at that before shaking his head in annoyance. "I was projecting, wasn't I?" She'd mentioned that if someone thought to hard about something she could sometimes pick up their thoughts, like someone muttering under their breath. He had been working to avoid doing that, as he knew that it was rather annoying for her to-

"No, I got a news update on my dex," Hermione said, gesturing towards the red device that sat on a table to her right.

"...ah." He rubbed the back of his head, hoping that he didn't look like the giant fool he felt like.

"Look only slightly like one," Hermione said with a smirk, finally opening her eyes. "That time you were projecting." She stood up and motioned for the techs to leave her and Cedric. "What do you think?"

"About?"

"About you being a giant fool," Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. "The attack."

"Voldemort," Cedric said without hesitation. "100% him. No doubt."

"No doubt?"

"No doubt," Cedric said firmly. "The Kenways are brazen but they aren't slasher film killers. They wouldn't march into Little Surrey and kill every man, woman, and child. I did the research and they were almost clinical when it came to their attacks to ensure they didn't harm the innocent. In fact I found more cases where Kanto hurt their own people when they got caught in the crossfire than the Sons doing it. They didn't have a perfect record but they didn't commit war crimes and I seriously doubt they did so here."

"Hmmm. I agree. Of course I agree because Voldemort or whoever dressed up as Jack Kenway got the outfit wrong. Jacket's not the right cut, the escrima sticks are too long... I'm writing up all my findings right now and trying to figure out how best to present them-"

Cedric helped Hermione to her feet and kissed her on the cheek. "I would be shocked if you didn't."

"That's not all though," she said softly, stretching out her tired muscles; sitting in one position for so long left her cramped up and her muscles strained.

"You're going back," Cedric said.

"Now who's psychic?" Hermione teased but there was little humor in her words.

Cedric quickly picked up on her reluctance. "You don't want to go?"

"Not for the reason you'd think," Hermione stated with a sigh, moving over to where her dex sat and pocketing it. "I want to go... but I feel selfish doing so." That hadn't been what Cedric had been expecting and his face must have made that clear as Hermione elaborated. "Dr. Fennel has been so kind to us and we've been making so many breakthroughs and she's been so wonderful helping me learn..." she waved her hands around her head, "...and I just feel terrible that I am sneaking off like a thief in the night."

"Except you're not," Cedric said firmly, walking over and taking her hands and giving them a squeeze. "You aren't heading off because you want to go shopping or because you want to see a movie. You're going to help your friend who is the reason why the two of us are doing this in the first place. Believe me, if I thought I could be of help at the moment I'd be going to." He had considered going with Hermione but in the end reasoned that it would be better to have several people like himself and the other champions waiting in the wings, training and preparing for the day when Harry needed their full might. "Harry needs his friends and everyone understands that."

Hermione smiled at that. "Thank you for understand."

Cedric kissed her forehead. "That, Hermione, you never have to thank me for."

~MC~MC~MC~

Location: Classified

Region: Classified

Neville sighed as he packed his suitcase, looking about the sterile room that had been his home ever since he'd arrived at (REDACTED). One would have been surprised to learn that such a barren and frankly cold looking room could be missed by someone but Neville knew it would be missed by him. This room had seen much in the last few months, just as he had, and had been witness to the slow transformation that had taken place within him. More than anyone else the room with its cold gray cement walls and bland carpet and basic bed with its bleached white sheets pulled taunt had seen Neville deal with the training Barty had put him through... and the wonderful aftermath.

Exercises to strength his body. Hiking the (REDACTED). Climbing (Redacted) at low light with only basic safety gear. Chasing a herd of (REDACTED) and hiding in tall trees until the (REDACTED) had passed. Things to help him grow strong; not bulging like some wrestler who could bench press a Machoke but strong all over... deceptively strong. Bart Crouch Jr. looked like a thin silly man but he had iron in his limbs and a power that would make most warriors tremble when he put his mind to it.

Exercises to strength his mind as well. He'd learned chess and then applied those lessons to the field. He'd participated in war games where he had control of imaginary forces and led them into battle. Ways to read quicker and recall memories faster. Mind palaces and mental shields. Neville had read The Art of War and The Prince and debated their messages. He'd studied all the wars of the last century: The Great War, The Second Great War, The Avalon Civil War, Kenway's Rebellion. From these he'd seen the mistakes that he would learn from and never allow to occur under his watch.

But the greatest help had been when Barty had introduced him to the Mental War to help him hone his mind like it was a blade. When he'd first seen Barty participate in one with Neville's Uncle Agie the teen hadn't known what to think. It looked like the two were just sitting across from each other, whispering quietly to themselves. Later though Barty had explained just what a Mental War was and how they were going to use it to make his mind one of the most cunning in Avalon.

A Mental War began with the two competitors mutually deciding on a place of battle that they could envision in their heads. A field. A rocky canyon. A lost city. Sometimes it was based on a real place, other times a creation that was described in full detail. They would next select their forces, equal in terms of strength and skill. And then... they would wage war. During one's turn they would describe their actions as could be observed by the other: the movement of their troops, the felling of trees or digging of ditches, the fortifying of buildings and positioning of weapons. Then they would decide if they wished to push forward or engage. There could be no lying or cheating, as that would result in an instant lose. A competitor could lay a trap but it had to be something that made sense, based on what they'd described their troops doing; a trap couldn't appear where no one had stood, for example.

Neville would never claim to be a prodigy at Mental Wars but he had gotten the hang of it and where once he had seen it as merely Barty's way of embarrassing him he now saw the benefits and actually began to look forward to their contests on the mental plane. The Wars forced him to remember things and to plan ahead while also strengthening his creativity and ability to adapt on the fly. For the latter he'd seen enough of his plans torn to shreds by Barty using the former. The first time Barty had suddenly declared that a storm began to rage, dousing flames that Neville had set up on the field, the teen had been upset but Barty had pointed out there had been nothing in the rules stating that a storm couldn't appear out of nowhere. Another time he'd performed a move similar to Harry's tactic in Hogsmeade against Regulus Black where he'd set fire to leaves to create an inferno, forcing Neville to retreat. Barty had celebrated when Neville had come up with a trap that saw him leading the two of them to an alter dedicated to Cobalion who had judged Barty as guilty of crimes against Pokémon and struck down his army.

The Mental War forced Neville to think and plan and it would be those skills that would serve him well in the days together.

He had just hefted up his suitcase when he noticed his teacher and mentor standing at the door, watching him with an odd look in his eye.

"I have no choice," Neville said after a moment, the silence becoming unbearable.

"You would have disappointed me if you hadn't," Barty said simply, moving to reveal that he had his own bag packed and ready to go. When Neville stared at him in surprise Barty chuckled. "My job is to handle disasters like this. If you thought I wasn't tagging along to help Harry and the Kenways get out of this mess you are mad." Barty slapped him on the back. "Come on, let's go."

Neville nodded, glancing at his room one last time before he moved to follow Barty out of (REDACTED)

~MC~MC~MC~

Blackmint

Castelia City

Unova

Sirens were blaring as Ginny ran through the halls of Blackmint, the Josephs's headquarters in Unova. The pale white halls that she'd walked every day for the last few months and the offices that she'd spent time in pounding away at keys and working on her personal programs (and viruses if she were being honest) had been thrown into chaos but she couldn't bring herself to worry... mostly because she was the one that had set off said alarms.

'And people wondered why I preferred to have lunch in Bill's office rather than the breakroom,' she thought with a laugh. 'Can't take full control of the building's security system from the breakroom!'

Above her red lights were swirling and alarms were screeching and as she turned a corner she could see employees trying to figure out what was going on even as security rushed about trying to keep people calm. No one knew what to make of the alarms as Ginny had made sure to set off EVERYTHING. The fire alarm, the lockdown alarm, the tornado alarm, and even a few that didn't have names but that she'd created herself; her personal favorite was one that she'd made that sounded like a Kalos Police Siren that she'd coded ad 'Dance Party Alarm'. No one knew what to do, if this were a drill or the real thing, which meant that she was free to race down the hall and towards the locked and sealed doors. They were supposed to remain shut so that if someone did attempt to get into the building they wouldn't be able to get far, as one had to have the right ID card and clearance to get through it. Having spent months with Bill learning all about his job and being taught by the best instructors the Josephs had in the art of hacking and espionage Ginny knew what a pain those doors could be. Which was why Ginny merely smirked before reaching down and activating the already preprogramed command on the minidex she had strapped to her wrist. Several people let out gasps as all the autolocks on the doors disengaged and Ginny was able to rush through an entry way without a problem. Well, other than the alarms that were blaring.

She spun past a startled Joseph (she honestly didn't know who it was; all the short little men with their neatly trimmed beards and three piece suits looked the same to her) and made for the stairwell, deciding that the elevators would only slow her down. She was thankful she'd been training to join the Gryffindor Gauntlet team as it gave her the stamina to keep moving, taking the stairs 3 at a time as she made her way down three flights before bursting out into the parking garage-

"Ginny, honestly?"

-right where Bill was waiting with the head of Blackmint.

Rather than be embarrassed or scared Ginny merely shrugged, adjusting the straps of her backpack. "What?" she said with an innocent little smile.

"We saw the news, Miss Weasley," Gregory Joseph said, rocking back and forth on his heels, a bemused smile on his own features. He held up his hand as Ginny opened her mouth. "And please, no jokes. You are going to help your friend."

"Well...duh, yeah."

"Gin, you could have just left," Bill pointed out. "No need for all... this." He gestured at the building where chaos was still reigning.

"Hey, you guys brought me in to help me become a better hacker!" she complained. "This was just me showing you how much I've learned! Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I don't want a job later on! If I could do this to you guys imagine what I can do to your competitors... or those businesses you want to take over."

"We would never engage in such things," Gregory stated.

Ginny snorted. "And Draco Malfoy doesn't have a micro penis."

"Ginny!" Bill exclaimed in horror.

"What?" Ginny said sweetly.

Her brother rubbed his temples. "Mum is going to kill me if she hears you talking like that."

"Blame Fred and George. That works for me." She moved towards to two before extending her hand, growing serious. "I do want to thank you for teaching me so much. And this isn't goodbye. But Harry... he's my friend. The brother I chose. I can't abandon him now."

Bill sighed, looking as if he wanted to argue but instead he merely took her hand in his larger one and gave it a shake. "I don't know if I should be pissed or proud."

"Try both," Ginny quipped.

"You need anything from me, Gin, you give me a call," Bill said. "And be safe."

"And you come back to us when you can," Gregory stated as he shook Ginny's hand. "Your little show has let me see we have much work to do... I think having the one who caused this madness helping us fix it would be an asset."

"I suppose I can wear a white hat once and a while," Ginny said before walking over to an expensive roadster and waving her dex past it's digital lock. The door swung open and she slipped inside, giving Bill a wave. "I'll text you when I get there!" With that she shut the door and tore out of the parking garage.

"...when did she learn to drive?" Bill muttered.

"I'm more concerned that she stole my VP's car," Gregory stated as he watched Ginny drive away.

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: So… funny thing about this chapter.

Until a month ago it didn't exist. Hell, before a week ago I was still working on it.

The original plan was that I was going to do a chapter that occurred right after the events of the last chapter with Harry and Co. But then I realized that I wanted to focus on the reactions of his friends so I began to work on that chapter… only to realize that, to do that, I'd need to make a double size chapter. So not only did I need to start a new chapter after getting half way with a chapter… but then I needed to do a double size chapter that focused on five characters and detailed their training.

So year, delays. Yay.

Not much else to say other than the Mental War is inspired by something similar from Dinotopia.

UPDATE! You can now follow my fanfiction progress on Twitter by following TheRealMr_Chaos