"First years over 'ere! First years over 'ere!"

"I can't believe they still have that buffoon working here!" Pansy complained to Draco as their group got off the train and began to make their way towards Black Lake. The normal controlled chaos of the arrival to Hogwarts created the small group of Slytherins as they grabbed their bagpacks and suitcases and did their best to move through the mob. The little firsties, looking scared and confused and yet also filled with wonder and excitement, were quickly peeling away from the main bulk of the returning students and heading over to where Hagrid was waiting with the Marill-propelled boats. The older students, chatting amongst themselves and releasing newly acquired Pokemon to show off and loudly discussing their summer vacation, were glad that they were being given a reprieve from the little ankle-biters. Each of them wondered at how the firsties could be so annoying and would swear on anything provided that THEY had never been like that. The oldest students were relishing in their newly minted status as 'lords of Hogwarts' due to their age and experience, while the Third years were excited about being able to head down to Le Fay's Landing and all the other minor perks they would get now that they had reached their milestone.

Of course it wasn't all excitement and good times. There were Fifth Years and Seventh Years who were nervously thinking about the end of year exams they would be taking. Mostly in Ravenclaw but there were a smattering of Hufflepulls and Slytherins who were dreading the tests; no Gryffindors but they were idiots anyway. For the Fifth Years they had the General Resources, Intelligence, Methodology, Experience, and Research Tests, or G.R.I.M.E.R.s for short, which would focus on a broad range of topics and ensure that they were at the level they should be in order to receive their General Pokemon License that would allow them to get basic jobs out in the world. Those that didn't have the skill or knowledge or heritage to attend Hogwarts (though nowadays it seemed Hogwarts let anyone in) had to get their license as well, either through completing the Gym Battle circuit, mentoring programs, or apprenticeships.

The Slytherins though weren't worried about G.R.I.M.E.R.s. No, the thing that truly mattered were the Mastery of Universal Knowledge Tests, or M.U.K.s. Those, given to the Seventh Years, were a series of tests that would help one once they got out of school and needed to begin planning their lives. There were up to 30 different tests student could take that covered a wide range of topics (though most settled for around 8 or so with only over achievers attempting to get into the 12 range; legend stated Dumbledore had completed the most M.U.K.s and even then the number was only 18). Students would pick tests that fit their strengths as well as those that would be needed to get a career in their chosen field. This left a large number of Seventh Years worried over making the right choice and dooming themselves right out of the gate.

"First years over 'ere! First years over 'ere!"

Pansy scoffed even louder at that. "They should have sacked him ages ago, not allowed him to actually teach us! He isn't even a proper trainer! He's a glorified coordinator!"

"Just because his Granbull is prettier than you is no reason to throw a fit, Parkinson!" Theo Nott called out, earning laughter from a group of Gryffindors that passed by.

"Hey!" Goyle called out, waving a bloated finger at Nott. "You're supposed to be on our side! We're Slytherins!"

"Could have fooled us," Tracy Davis stated as she breezed by, her best friend Daphne Greengrass walking a step behind with her little sister Astroia. "Not an ounce of cunning in any of you. Must be genetic."

"Watch it, newb-" Crabbe began only for Draco to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Enough. Not out here." Crabbe and Goyle looked at their friend, clearly not liking what he was suggesting as they were itching for a fight.

"Look at those traitors, thinking they can talk to us like that. They could have stood with us, their peers, and instead they snipe at us like the newblood bastards," Pansy hissed under her breath, watching as the other Slytherin girls used Daphne's Vanilluxe to create an ice trail along the lake while Tracy's Mawlie quickly carved through a second block the ice Pokémon had made to create a sled for them to travel on. "Haven't been the same since third year."

Millie, the finally member of Draco's group, chose then to speak up. She existed on the fringes of the group, her place never quite established, and thus tended to follow the lead of the others, which was quite contrasting with her large, intimidating form. "Not third year… the attack on Le Fay's Landing."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Then they're being morons. We were there too and you don't see us going all blood traitor on us-"

"Enough!" Draco snapped before selecting a boat and waiting for Crabbe to summon his Crawdaunt, which would be tasked with pulling them across the lake. He settled into his seat and shot the other four a look that made it clear that he wasn't interested in any meaningless small talk and until he made it clear he was interested in discussion they'd be wise to shut their mouths.

It wasn't their third year that was the focus of Draco's thoughts, nor the attack against Le Fay's Landing that he'd been caught in. While it still bothered him that a Nocturne Grunt (even one that now, apparently, had earned the status of Admin) had nearly gotten him hurt in the end he'd realized that it was simply a matter of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time and had Regulus Black known he was there he would have given him warning at worst and postponed his plan at best. His father was one of Nocturne's elite Admins and Draco himself would take his place one day; Regulus wouldn't have risked him or any family member of a Nocturne Admin. And even if Draco hadn't been there the man would have been a fool to knowingly try and harm him. He was from the most important family in Avalon and through his mother would be Lord Black as well as Lord Malfoy (never mind that the prancing fool Sirius had named Potter as his heir, his father would find a way to ensure that Draco took his rightful place as Lord Black; the fact that Regulus would be next in line was a point Draco solidly ignored). That meant that he and Regulus were family and thus the man would never knowingly try and harm his family. Only his traitorous brother. Pansy acted like it was some horrific event but for Draco it had been everyone else that had panicked. After all, it hadn't been him that had followed after his father, relying upon him to lead the charge. Oh, people liked to claim Potter had won the day but Draco knew it was his father who had saved them all. Potter had just tried to take all the credit.

No one mentioned how he had single handedly led the charge to hold the shopping center of Le Fay's Landing. How it had been his quick thinking and determination that had seen so many protected. While others had cowered and whimpered he'd shrugged off the effects of the Dusknoirs and battled on. Potter had been whimpering and sobbing, his father dragging him along, while Draco had stood tall and laughed in the face of danger. It had been Potter and his friends who had taken Potter's limited efforts in ending the threat and turning them into some grand final stand while taking all Draco had done and rending it little more than a few futile gestures to hold on till the Gryffindors had come. And if people claimed to have seen differently they were lying.

No, it wasn't his third year that his thoughts drifted to. It was their fourth year and the disaster that had been that filled his mind. And it was one moment in his fourth year that had truly cemented it as the worst year of his life: when the visiting schools had arrived at Hogwarts and he'd been introduced to his bitch of an aunt and her family.

Discovering that he had an aunt he'd never known had been a shock but learning that she believed herself the true head of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy had been one blow too many. The mocking of his father had only driven him further into a rage and while it might have been better if he'd waited to he had backup before he'd gone on the offensive but even then he'd been in the right and needed to let the Kalosian Malfoys know exactly where they stood: beneath him. If it hadn't been for Prof. Blackthorn and that murderer Kenway throwing a hissy fit he would have gotten his aunt to admit herself to be a fraud and set right once and for all the House of Malfoy. Instead he'd been forced to back down.

Not that his parents saw it that way…

~MC~MC~MC~MC~

October 2nd, 1994

Draco shifted in his seat, feeling rather awkward over the fact that he was seated while his parents stood. Normally, when he engaged his parents in a conversation, he would only sit if they were sitting and allowed him to do so, showing them the respect their deserved. But today was different. From the moment Prof. McGonagall had asked his parents to teleport over to discuss his meeting with his aunt his parents had refused to take a seat, first merely standing with McGonagall as she told them all that had happened… and her tainted, biased view of it. His father had only glanced at him before asking if they might speak with him alone, the professor allowing them to use an empty classroom for the meeting. She shot Draco one finally look before she'd shut the door, leaving him and his parents all alone in cold and quiet classroom.

Draco had been ready to speak the moment he was given a chance, to explain what had truly happened with the Head of Gryffindor's spin, but when he'd looked at his parents he'd found all the words he wished to speak, the complaints and demands and frustrations, die on his tongue with a quick and sudden death. It wasn't the way his father looked at him though that made him pause, though he was used to him having his dark moods. Granted, the stare his father was sending him was much stronger than was normally directed his way and tended to be fired towards those associates who had done something so stupid that it left his father needing time to gather himself before informing them of just how wrong their world view was. Draco didn't understand though why his father would look at him like that, as he certainly hadn't done anything to earn such annoyance. Maybe his father was mad that Draco had been shown so little support by the Hogwarts staff?

No, it wasn't his father that made him pause. It was his mother who quelled his words. Rather than come up to him as she always did, stroking his hair and making sure he was fine and safe, she was looking at him with utter disappointment. It was a hooded look, one from someone that was just utterly tired and frustrated and wanted to do no more than walk away but knew they couldn't. Draco didn't understand why she felt that way though… he was the victim here!... but yet there she was, staring at him like he was some broken thing that was in desperate need of repair and she had no idea where to start… of if it was worth making the repairs.

His parents had remained silent for the ten minutes since the deputy headmistress had left, his father pacing about the room with his chin tucked against his breast and his hands clasped behind him. He kept making the same circuit, again and again, lapping about the room as he considered the situation and the arrival of his lying sister. His mother, by contrast, moved about the room rather erratically, at times stopping and remaining in place, staring at a common chair or a book on a shelf before spinning about and moving to a different part of the room. Her steps went from fast to slow to fast again and she never seemed to have a destination in mind. While is father was using his pacing to gather his thoughts his mother was guided by them, being pulled in a thousand directions by a thousand worries.

"Tell me," his father finally said, causing Draco to start when his cool tones filled the empty room, "which of the Four Houses is the greatest?"

Draco stared at his father, perplexed.

"I asked you a question, Draco, and I expect an answer."

"Slytherin."

His father nodded sharply at that. "And what House has produced the greatest men in all of Avalon?"

"Slytherin," Draco said more firmly.

"And which of the four houses is known for its cunning?"

"Slytherin," he said with pride.

"And what house do you belong to?"

"Slytherin."

His father raised an eyebrow at that. "Is that so?" He walked over, towering over Draco and making him both crane his neck and while fighting the urge to cringe; even when it was his father a Malfoy didn't cringe. "You have the look of a Slytherin, I will admit. Face free of scrapes and cuts like a rash Gryffindor, the squinting eyes of an awkward Ravenclaw, or the puffed up cheeks of a whimpering Hufflepuff. You have dressed yourself in the clothing of a Slytherin as well." He reached down and fingered Draco's coat, feeling the fine material. "Yet when I look at you I don't see a Slytherin. Others might believe you to be of the House of Cunning that there is certainly nothing cunning about you… for if there was you would never have behaved as you did today." He leaned down so that Draco had no choice now but to cringe. "Tell me, Draco… what made you believe for even a second that you confronting my sister as you did was, in any way, a good showing for the Malfoy Family?"

"I was trying to protect our family, father!" Draco proclaimed, revving up to finally explain what McGonagall had been to cowardly to say. "She was mocking you, insulting you-"

"And your way of protecting us was to call her a dyke whore in front of not just your professors, your headmaster, and the entire student body… but in front of the likes of Lance Blackthorn and Drayden Arkenstone? Tell me, Draco… what was cunning about that?" Draco opened his mouth but a sound didn't come out; when put so bluntly his actions did come off rather bad. But he'd been right! He had been! He'd done what was right! "I asked you a question."

"…I did what I thought was right," Draco murmured.

"And that is why you failed, because it is clear that your instincts and thoughts are lacking." His father pulled back and began to pace once more, tugging on his suit sleeves. "I had thought that perhaps this year things might be different, that you'd finally prove to me your worth and that you had at least learned something from our lessons but this latest outburst has dismissed such thoughts. Now I must decide how best to approach my sister… to deal with the fallout for your mistakes."

With that his father left the room, leaving only Draco's mother to keep the boy company.

"It will be a cold day in Hell when you actually grow a pair and confront your sister, Lucius."

"Mother?" Draco asked, reminding her that he was still there.

But rather than address the scandalizing comments she'd made about his father Draco's mother merely turned to him and let out a sigh. It was the sigh so many mothers over so many regions let slip past their lips when they looked upon their children and wondered if their mistakes could be laid at the feet of their parents. She walked over to him and reached out, her fingers moving to brush his forehead as she always did, only this time her fingers paused inches from his skin before dropped it her side.

"Draco, how is one sorted into their House?"

"Mother?"

"Just humor me," she said quietly but firmly.

Draco would have normally fussed and bemoaned being asked such a silly question but his mother's strange behavior led him to answer honestly. "Slowking places his hand on your shoulder and scans our mind, determining which of the houses you belong to."

"And what determines which house you belong too?"

He frowned at that, trying to puzzle out what his mother was getting at. "He determines which trait you have: courage," he said that with a sneer, "intelligence, loyalty, or cunning. Slowking saw I had cunning."

"No Draco," his mother said, using a tone and cadence he hadn't heard since he was a toddler. The last time she'd spoke to him in such a way she'd had to explained to him why he couldn't test to see what would happen if he unleashed all the Snivys onto his father's Kadabra. "When I was a first year and it was my turn to be sorted Slowking looked into my mind and showed me several versions of myself. Of who I could be if I were sorted into each of the four houses. Some were clearer than others and the one that represented myself in Slytherin was clearest of all and… it spoke to me. No, not spoke… called to me. Not with words but in a way… I can't explain it. But it called to me and Slowking declared me a Slytherin."

Draco frowned at that. "I didn't see anything like that. There were… something… in the distance when he talked to me but it was over so quick. Slowking declared me a Slytherin, just like father-" Draco paused though, blinking in confusion as he considered that.

"Your father was never sorted, Draco," his mother gently reminded him. "He went to school in Kalos."

"But… he said that… the Malfoys…"

"Your father… he has an image that must be maintained. One that he longs to be reality but is, in fact, merely that. An image. In you he has placed his hopes that you will be all that he desires to be."

"And I will!" Draco declared firmly. "I will lead the Malfoy family to even greater heights, with all the cunning of a true Slytherin-"

"Except cunning means nothing without anything else to back it up!" his mother snapped, causing Draco to lean back in startled surprise. She took several breaths before she continued, this time more calmly. "Slowking does not place you in a house because you have only one of those traits. He places you in the house where you have the most. Most… not only. The trait that uses the others to augment it."

"I don't understand," Draco complained. "Slytherin is the House of the Cunning."

"And what is cunning without intelligence? To shape one's plans so that they come to fruition? So that you can see which ones a person should take on and which must be abandoned. Without intelligence cunning is little more than greed without focus. What is cunning without loyalty? To the cause? To one's family? To one's beliefs? Cunning without loyalty means no allies, no aid, and achieving much but losing everything. What is cunning without bravery? All men dream, Draco, but only the brave man finds the will to make their dreams come true. Only the brave will look at their goals, even as the world declares them impossible, and knows that they are wrong.

"I have read your letters, Draco, and what I have seen these last three years leaves me with so much… disappointment. I've read so much about you trying to achieve great things but I have seen little to back up your lofty goals. You react without thought, you lash out at your classmates when you should be making them your allies, and when your plan fails rather than push on you write to your father and demand he fix things for you." She shook her head and sighed, looking down at him with utter disappointed. Draco was used to his father being disappointed in him… but not his mother. Never his mother. "Draco, if I were you I'd use this year to prove that I could be the man your father and I want you to be. I'd be quiet, be sneaky… be cunning. Be smart enough to know when to be quiet. To gather allies that would stand with me. Be brave enough to turn away from fights that aren't worth fighting. Watch and learn… until my enemies provided me enough rope to hang them with."

And with that she left him alone in the classroom, with only his thoughts.

~MC~MC~MC~

Present Day

And he'd done just that. After the first meeting with his aunt Draco had heeded his mother's words and kept his head down and his ears open. So instead of trading insults with Potter he merely sat off to the side, watching as his foe managed to get himself into trouble even without Draco's help. While the champions competed in their Tasks Draco recorded all he saw in his dex, gathering information that could be both traded for information and used as blackmail. Several times during that past year several of his Slytherin yearmates and even some from Ravenclaw (as the Hufflepuffs had seen Cedric become friends with Potter and thus laid off him and of course the Gryffindors had rallied around their own) who wanted to see if he wanted in on their plans to embarrass the showboating fourth year. Each time Draco had forced himself to say no, fighting his every urge to nod his head and gleefully help in destroying Potter.

He hated to admit that such decisions had proven correct yet those plans seemed to always blow up before they could be enacted. With so many people staying at Hogwarts it was hard to hide such things and all it took was whispering a plan too loud for it to be found out. Blout and O'Malley, a pair of 6th year Slytherins, had wanted to slip Potter some laxatives the day of the Second Task; the Alakazam that Potter had stolen from Draco's family had instantly detected something wrong with his food and the pair of older students had ended up with detention with Filch for a month with Potter not even aware what had happened. A Ravenclaw had come up with a plan to make it look like Potter was trying to sell nude photos of the female champions to the regional papers. The Weaslette not only found out about the plan but alerted the Aurors about it, once more without informing Potter. Last Draco had heard the Ravenclaw was fighting to stay out of jail after he'd been expelled.

The worst part of it all was that through all of it Potter seemed to not even realize how many people were plotting against him, meaning that Draco couldn't enjoy seeing his foe squirm with paranoia. No, Potter had been too busy spending time with Draco's cousin and Johto's Little Whore and that blood traitor Diggory to even notice just how many people were against him and plotting his humiliation. He had, like in the past few years, been able to do as he wished while Draco, who should have been the true Prince of Hogwarts, was left with whatever scraps he could find. The respect and appreciation the students should have been giving him, the Heir of House Malfoy, had remained continually out of his grasp.

'But this year will be different!' Draco thought as he stepped out of the boat and looked up at Hogwarts. 'Potter is gone, driven off after trying to slander my father!' It didn't matter that his father had been serving Voldemort… Potter should have done the decent thing and died so that he no longer stood in Team Nocturne's way. Potter could slum it with the heathens in Johto… Draco would cement his place as the true master of Hogwarts. More than that, he would prove to his father that he was worthy of taking his place on day as the secret master of Avalon, controlling the region from behind the scenes. He would start small, gaining allies from a few of the other houses. Ravenclaws were good at planning, Hufflepuffs would make wonderful loyal minions, and when it came to Gryffindors it was always wise to have some reckless pawns to send racing at a threat. He would begin building his power base and-

"It's Potter!"

Draco's thoughts came to a screeching halt as he looked up and stared in shock and horror as his hated foe and his group of hangers-ons and blood traitors all stood on the steps of Hogwarts, waving to the students… and the cameras that were filming his every move.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Harry called out, preening for the cameras and the reporters that were calling out to him. "Yes, I am happy to be back at Hogwarts! And hopefully there won't be any tournaments this year! It has been an interesting summer but now I am glad to be back in Avalon!" The reporters called out questions but Harry merely turned and walked up the steps and into the castle, leaving the reporters to impotently call out questions concerning his summer and the rumors of his departure from the region the spring before.

And through it all Draco stood, dumbfounded… and utterly ignored once again.