It sadly was looking like it would become a tradition for the students of Hogwarts, especially those that were currently in their 5th Year, to research their current Battle Instructor and find out just what was wrong with them before they met him. After having one be possessed by Voldemort (and had only managed to be an okay teacher), one a farce that mindwiped his students (at best), admittedly an amazing professor in Remus (and how the rest of Hogwarts hated the fact that Remus had quit after a year), and another really good if eccentric one in Barty Crouch Jr (who had ended up leaving the post because, as he had informed the school, 'The Lovegood girl keeps knitting me ridiculous scarves') it had become a crap shoot who they would get. Add into that the other two newcomers to Hogwarts they had gotten had been 1) Also a host for Voldemort and 2) A Garbodor in a pink suit and one could forgive the students for deciding to find out if their teacher would be competent or if they should only walk in pairs into their classroom.

"Okay, so Professor Brock Slate was one of the youngest gym leaders in Kanto," Neville stated as he looked over his research. "His mother left when he was around 10 and his father a year later. He had to raise all his siblings by himself."

"Nice to know other regions are just as screwed up when it comes to child services," Harry muttered.

"What about his actual teaching skills?" Hermione asked. "There are a lot of gym leaders I wouldn't trust to teach a class."

Ron nodded. "No offense to my dad but I wouldn't want him teaching us."

"Same with my gran. And as for Prof. Slate he helped teach Maxwell Maple," Neville stated.

"Yeah but what else?" Hermione complained. "One student doesn't make him a good teacher!"

Daphne Greengrass spoke up (as once again the Gryffindors and Slytherins had Battle Class together because Dumbledore was of the opinion that the only way to stop a Fire Type was to toss Oddishes on it and hope for the best). "Well, he traveled with last year's Kalos Cup Winner... granted, Ketchum didn't compete until a few years after Prof. Slate traveled with him and it took two tries for him to win..."

"He also traveled with Misty Waterflower," Theo Nott added.

Harry nodded. "Gary told me about her... apparently she is on the shortlist to replace Lorelei Frost as the Kanto Elite 4's International Relations Head."

"Prof. Slate is rumored to be up for the Surgeon General Position on their Elite 4 too," Blaise added.

Tracey Davis rolled her eyes. "Big deal. We all had lunches with members of Johto and Kanto's Elite 4 last year. Knowing them isn't that impressive."

"Yes! Can he TEACH!?" Hermione demanded.

"Calm down, bookworm," Draco snarked. "You'll find out if you can be mindwiped by this one soon enough."

Ron leapt up, knocking his chair down to the ground. "How about if we find out if Prof. Slate can teach you when you have a broken jaw!"

"Ron!" Harry cried out, grabbing his friend before he could do something stupid. "Come on, not worth it!"

"Listen to Potter, Weasley! Know your place and your betters! I would destroy you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Actually I'm more afraid you'd get turned on and begin stalking Ron like some Tsundere." He blinked as soon as the words left his mouth. 'I have been spending way too much time around Luna,' Harry thought.

'No you haven't!' Luna replied... in his head.

Harry shuddered slightly, praying that was just his imagination.

"What?" Draco screeched. "I am not a filthy queer!"

Harry's brow furrowed. "And yet... the hair?"

Draco's mouth dropped even as Millie whispered, "Thank Arceus someone said it."

Neville cleared his throat. "Uh guys? I did find something odd about Prof. Slate."

"And what's that?" Daphne asked.

"Well..."

"Spit it out, Longbottom!" Draco shouted.

"I thought you didn't care?" Ron challenged.

"Keep out of this-"

"There is a whole website dedicated to all the women he's hit on!"

The class went silent.

"...what?" Hermione finally asked, dumbfounded.

Neville shrugged. "The Roaming Romeo. It's half chatroom, half support group. Apparently he hits on a woman roughly once a week."

Harry frowned, puzzling that over. "Okay, that is a bit strange but-"

"Apparently he has a thing for older women," Neville continued. "Started when he was a teenager but from the looks of it he hasn't grown out of it… and his tastes have…er… matured."

"How old?" Ron asked. "Like... 5 years older? 10?"

Before Neville could answer there was a commotion at the door and it swung open... to reveal Prof. McGonagall looking utterly annoyed. "This is your classroom, Prof. Slate... and I believe class is about to start?"

Prof. Slate though was on his knees and Harry could practically see the hearts in his eyes. "But I am a student as well... a student who wishes to learn all you can teach me about the ways of love!"

"I'm old enough to be your grandmother," McGonagall growled.

"Age is merely a number! I am ready to learn at your feet-GAH!"

A Pokeball burst open and a Toxicroak burst out and grabbed Prof. Slate by the ear, dragging him into the classroom and down past the utterly confused students. The Head of Gryffindor, for her part, merely rolled her eyes and muttered about 'foolish youngsters'.

Prof. Slate within moments was back on his feet, acting like nothing had happened at all and he had just walked into the classroom like any normal person and hadn't been dragged in while pitching woo to the Head of Gryffindor. When he wasn't making a fool of himself Prof. Slate looked like any young professor, beginning their career teaching young people how to raise and train their Pokémon. He was tall, at least 6 feet, and had a lean yet powerful build that allowed him to be muscular yet limber at the same time. He was someone that could take a punch and then dodge five more blows without breaking a sweat. His skin was darker than what most people saw in Avalon or in Kanto and it seemed that his eyes were forever shut but not in a squinty way that would make people think he was up to something. No, Harry thought there was a steadiness to him, a calmness like one would find in a monk. This was a man that was at peace with himself... at least when he wasn't wooing women 4 times older than himself.

"Hello class... my name is Professor Brock Slate. For those that haven't heard of me I was the Pewter City Gym Leader before I decided to travel Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh. I have had training in Pokémon Breeding, and no NOT like that I mean in the care for them, and currently I am finishing my work to achieve my doctorate in Pokémon Medicine and Care. I have also done two years of work at Kanto Medical Academy as a Student Teacher, so for those worried they were getting a raw and rough trainee there is no need to worry. I am what you would call of Type Specialist as my preferred Pokémon type is Rock." He smiled a touch, chuckling. "Though my friends make fun of me for having very few Rock Pokémon now."

Prof. Slate left the large pit that formed the lowest part of the Battle Classroom and began to walk among the rows, pulling out a remote from his pocket. The lights dimmed and on the opposite wall a projection appeared, displaying the words 'Battle Class- 5th year' . "In order to become a gym leader a trainer must battle against the Elite 4 of their region upon their taking over of the gym, to prove that they are worthy of commanding the gym. I did this when I was 12 years old and faced Bruno." He clicked the remove and a new image appeared of a much younger Prof. Slate commanding on Onix against a Hitmonlee. "The reason gym leaders take on the Elite 4 is the same thing I am going to teach you this year. Would anyone like to take a guess?"

Hermione raised her hand. "How to lose gracefully?"

"While that is a very important life lesson and one I hope to instill in all of you that isn't what I was going for. Five points to Gryffindor." Prof. Slate waited to see if there were any answers before answering his own question. "The Elite 4 have you face an opponent that you should, on paper, lose to in order to see how well you do against impossible odds. Not to see how you lose... but how you battle back to win." He paused, letting that sink in. "Who would win: A Rhydon or a Pikachu?" The projection changed to show the very Pokémon he spoke of. "Yes, Mister-?"

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," Draco said with a cocky little smile, clearly thinking that Prof. Slate would be impressed by his title. When the professor didn't even twitch Draco's smile fell but he still answered. "The Rhydon, of course."

"And why is that?"

"Because Rhydon are Ground Types and they are immune to Electric attacks," Draco answered flippantly. "Furthermore, Electric Pokémon are weak against Ground Type Moves, so he would suffer double damage from such an attack that for the Rhydon would already be boosted."

"15 points to Slytherin," Prof. Slate stated, the image on the wall changing so that now the very information Draco had given appeared. Harry leaned forward and noticed that under each Pokémon were listed their attacks and League Adjusted Level. The Pikachu was strong... insanely strong from a Pokémon that could still evolve, with it ranked in the low 80s for level. As for its attacks it had some impressive ones with Thunder Bolt, Electroweb, Volt Tackle, and Iron Tail. The Ryhdon, while only in the mid 60s, had a much wider range of attacks though: Earthquake, Stone Edge, Megahorn, and Smart Strike. While the Pikachu had speed and a higher level for his species the Rhydon simply was more powerful and would be able to take whatever the electric mouse tossed at it. "These are the official read outs given to the Kalos Cup officials last year. Does anyone disagree with Mr. Malfoy?" Ron raised his hand. "And do they have proof to back up their beliefs?" Ron lowered his hand and some of the Slytherins chuckled. "Alright then..."

Prof. Slate clicked his remote and the projection changed to a video. There was a trainer with longer brown hair that was tied in a long samurai-style braid standing at one end of the field, commanding his Rhydon to perform Earthquake. On the other end of the field a younger trainer, maybe 20 or so, wearing a Kalos League baseball cap and a blue jacket, thrust out his hand.

"Pikachu, race along the quake, just like we practiced!"

"Pika!" the electric mouse cried out, leaping and dodging as the ground rolled like waves, managing to leap every time the ground trembled enough to cause damage.

"Use the Stealth Rocks to gain height!" the young trainer called out. Harry watched as the Pikachu leapt from floating rock to floating rock, using the stones that had been set up earlier in the match to avoid the Rhydon's ground-based attacks.

"We need to take out those rocks! Rhydon, use Smart Strike!"

"RHY!" the large ground type bellowed, rushing forward and picking up speed before leaping into the air, smashing the stone stones to dust. It quickly gained on the Pikachu and everyone could see that there was no escape now for the electric mouse.

"NOW PIKACHU! THUNDERBOLT!"

"Pika! PI...KA..." the electric mouse leapt off the final Stealth Rock and fell onto the Rhydon's nose, clutching his horn as his cheeks sparked. "CHU!"

The screen went white.

When the camera finally was able to focus the Rhydon was on the ground... and the Pikachu, bruised but stlll standing, stood perched on his head.

"RHYDON IS UNABLE TO BATTLE!" The ref declared. "THE WINNER IS ASH KETCHUM!"

Prof. Slate stopped the video and turned to the stunned class.

"How did he win?"

Harry and the rest of the class just sat there, trying to process what they had seen. It should have been impossible... an electric move working on a ground type. It just... just didn't make sense! It went against the basics of Pokémon battling.

And yet...

Prof. Slate had hit a button on his remote and the footage was playing again, looping so the students could watch the fight once more. Harry could hear Hermione muttering about water vapor while Ron was sure the guy had cheated and Neville wondered if it was a new ability they'd never heard before. Harry though just watched the footage. Pikachu leaping into the Stealth Rocks. The Rhydon taking them out with Smart Strike. The Thunderbolt...

"The Smart Strike," Harry called out. "It turned the Rhydon's horn into steel and allowed the Pikachu to conduct the electricity in it."

Prof. Slate nodded. "A simplified answer, as there are others factors that are in play, but that is the main point, yes." The Battle Instructor turned back on the lights and moved to the front of the room. "You have been taught type advantage. You've learned how to direct your attacks. You've learned of abilities and status moves and ways to alter a fight in your favor. This year you will toss all out the window." He gestured to the projected image of the Pikachu and his trained. "This is one of my closest friends. No one will ever claim he is the strongest trainer or the most strategic. But somehow he always finds a way to win, especially when the odds are stacked against him. Because he is willing to think outside the box. Where others say it is impossible to win he feels that someone just hasn't figured out a way... and he'll be the one to do it. I am going to teach you how to fight on your feet, to roll with the punches and to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat." Prof. Slate smirked. "And in honor of that... pop quiz battle." Prof Slate pulled out a pokeball and tossed it out, causing a Graveler to appear. "Challenge is simple. You get to pick champions. If one of them can defeat me using a Pokémon weak to Graveler then class is done. But for each loss you have to give me a 1 page on how one type can counter another it is weak against. So with every loss your paper will grow..."

Ron thumped his head on his desk.

"So... any suggestions-"

"Harry!" Ron called out. "Harry Potter!"

"Mate!" Harry hissed.

But Neville quickly joined in. "Harry, you stand the best chance!"

"I don't know about-"

"Harry, they're right," Dean said. "You are our only-"

"Don't finish that!" Hermione exclaimed. "You'll summon Luna! But they're right… you are our best choice!"

This led the Gryffindors to begin chanting his name and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. 'Should have seen this coming...'

"No way will I trust my fate to Potter!" Draco declared, standing up (and causing Harry to think 'Should have seen this too'). "No Malfoy would ever let the likes of Potter battle before them! I will take you on!" When the Slytherins weren't quick enough to speak up Draco glared at them and got a muted, half-hearted cheer for his trouble.

Prof. Slate shrugged. "Mr. Potter?"

"...let Draco go first," Harry gambled, figuring that if he agreed to something Draco would naturally go with the opposite and thus give him what he wanted.

Unfortunately Draco, once more, disappointed. "Good to see that you know your place, Potter!" Striding to the front of the classroom, Draco had the swagger of a prize fighter and the audience support of a jobber who everyone knew was only there to make the superstar look good. Pulling out a Luxury Ball Draco waited until Prof. Slate and his Graveler were ready before giving it his best leisurely toss. "Arbok go!"

"AR-BOK!" The cobra Pokémon screeched as he appeared out of his Pokeball and sneered at the rocky Pokémon he was facing.

"Poison type... weak to Ground. That will work." Prof. Slate pressed a few more buttons on his desk, causing energy barriers to lock into place to protect the class while the floor rose up and altered into a dusty terrain. Harry recognized the pistons that were just barely visible beneath the floor; they allowed for Pokémon to use ground-type attacks without causing the entire castle to shake. "Graveler, let's start with an Earthquake!"

"Spring up and use Bite!" Draco commanded, his Arbok launching himself in the air just as the ground began to tremble.

"He does know that he's fighting a ROCK type, right?" Ron asked.

"That's why Bite is a Dark Move," Hermione pointed out. "Users find ways to wiggle through such defenses and inflict damage to weak spots. Eyes, underbellies-"

Sure enough Arbok managed to get his fangs between two of the rocky, craggy pieces of Graveler's skin and clamp down hard, causing Slate's Pokémon to bellow in pain.

"Graveler, get him off with Smack Down!"

"A quick Toxic!" Draco shouted.

"I thought Ground Types were resistant against Poison types?" Dean said.

Neville shook his head as Arbok was forced off and had to quickly slither away before Graveler could stomp down on him. "Resistant doesn't mean immune. And Toxic ensures that a Pokémon is poisoned no matter way." He grimaced. "I hate to admit it but that was pretty clever of Draco. Now it's just a waiting game."

"I don't think so," Harry said, leaning forward.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"I think Prof. Slate isn't someone to just go with moves his Pokémon can use supereffectively. I think he's smarter than that."

Graveler rubbed at the spot where Arbok had bit him, purple venom oozing between the rocky armor that was his skin. But while he was poisoned the wound hadn't truly hurt him yet and he was ready for another go. "Okay Graveler, go for another Earthquake! Let's see if he can pull the same move twice!"

"Arbok, in the air again!"

Hermione watched as Arbok sprang up. "Another Bite?" She then shook her head. "No... something else."

"Venoshock!" Draco cried out, thrusting his hand out and grinning as Arbok fired off a spray of poison at the Graveler. "And because your Pokémon is already poisoned my attack's strength is doubled, negating your resistance!" Graveler shielded his face as the purple blast hit but he wasn't able to fully protect his wound and when the new poison leaked into where Arbok had bit him he bellowed in pain. Draco turned and, with a cocky grin, glanced at the class. "I hope you remember to thank me for not having any homework!" The Slytherins though weren't cheering and Draco frowned when he saw Pansy was gesturing wildly at the field. "What?"

"Be mindful of your surroundings," Harry whispered, remembering the lesson Lugia had taught him as he watched Graveler fire a localized Earthquake, the earth rising up and allowing the rocky Pokémon to better leap high into the air. "And never gloat until after the killing blow."

"Graveler! FIRE PUNCH!" Prof. Slate shouted.

Draco turned, unable to give a command as the professor's Pokémon launched down towards his Arbok. The rest of the class felt as if the attack was moving in slow motion; take one large rocky Pokémon, have him aim a downward punch at another Pokémon from high in the air, and you basically ended up a small-scale version of an asteroid plummeting through the atmosphere.

When the dust settled Arbok was out cold and Graveler, though wounded and poisoned, was still on his feet.

"A decent try," Prof. Slate said. "You almost had me. 10 points to Slytherin... but 1 page towards your essays."

Draco could only recall his Arbok dumbly, staring in shock at the ground until Crabbe finally motioned for him to return to his seat; the Prince of Slytherin was still processing his lose when Slate called on Harry.

"You're next," he said as he applied a Full Restore to his Graveler, healing him right up. "Unless you guys want to have someone else be your champion?" He glanced at the Gryffindors but they all shook their heads... as did several Slytherins.

"Potter is insane," Tracey finally said. "Doesn't do anything like he should. That's just what we need!"

"Thanks... I think," Harry muttered as he walked towards the front of the class.

"If everyone is happy with Mr. Potter then he can be the next champion."

Harry glanced at the window. "Can you lower the barrier for a moment? My Pokémon is stretching her wings." Prof. Slate shrugged and did as Harry asked. "Hedwig!" he called out, both vocally and with a pulse, his flying Pokémon whizzing through the window and landing before him. "Alright girl, let's-!"

"Hoot?"

Harry turned back to the window... only to see Hedwig sitting there, head tilted as she stared at him, confused. He turned back to the Hoothoot who had flown in, only for it to stand up and reveal itself to be...

"Ha! You thought it to be your Pokémon you were calling! But it was I, Dio!" Luna declared, jabbing her thumb towards her chest.

"...how?!" Daphne exclaimed.

"We've stopped asking," Hermione said with a sigh, waving as Luna happily skipped to the door, still wearing her Hoothoot costume.

"Oh, that's easy!" Luna said with a grin. "This is a fused loop and I'm the only one who is awake! You see, it all begins with a tree called Yggdrasil-"

"Luna, catch!" Ron said, pulling out a clear ball with a multi-colored light inside it and tossed it out the door.

"OOOOOOOO!" Luna exclaimed, giving chase.

"Where did you even get that?" Theo asked.

"I carry around several Luna-Distracters."

"Ah."

"...should I be concerned?" Prof. Slate asked.

"So long as she doesn't think you are a Time Lord you should be good," Neville pointed out.

The Battle Instructor shrugged his shoulders at that and reactivated the protective barrier. "Whenever you are ready, Mr. Potter."

"Hedwig, into the air and start off with an Air Slash!"

"Graveler, counter her with Smack Down!" Slate called out. However, much to his confusion, rather than the Air Slash he had been expecting the Hoothoot performed a Double Team, leaving Graveler hitting the mirage before slamming down to the ground.

"Double Team!" Harry called out and Hedwig created another copy, then another. "Okay, one more time!"

"Thunderpunch!" Slate yelled only for the Hoothoot to perform Hypnosis instead, putting Graveler to sleep. The rocky pokemon fell to the ground with a thud and Hedwig began to fire actual Air Slashes at him at Harry's command. "How are you doing this?" he asked. "I thought maybe you had arranged for him to use moves different from what you command but now he is doing what you call out..." He shook his head, trying to work out how Harry was taking out his Pokémon. Clearly the class hadn't been mistaken in selecting him as Champion.

"Trade Secret," Harry said before slipping into the Speaker's Realm.

"This is just mean," Hedwig teased.

"Honor is what failures whisper of on the battlefield," Harry responded, quoting Jonas.

"Want to merge now?" Hedwig asked.

Harry though shook his head. "I don't think so. I don't want people to think you can only win because I merge with you. You're powerful on your own and this is when we prove that."

"...I find that oddly touching so I must now call you a giant nerd," Hedwig said with a weak chuckle. "Okay, what are you thinking to finish this up?"

"Air Slash. Prof. Slate is probably keeping track of how much damage we do... I want to spring our final surprise on him."

Slipping out of the Speaker's Realm Hedwig began to fly around the Graveler like a Mandibuzz circling a tasty morsel, waiting for him to finally wake up.

"You're rather impressive, Mr. Potter. But you can't evade me forever. I will get a Smack Down in and when I do your Hoothoot is toast." Prof. Slate nodded as his Pokémon woke up. "Like right about now."

"Just one problem with that!" Harry declared as Hedwig fired one final Air Slash at the Graveler... and the Pokémon began to sway. "Your Pokémon doesn't have the strength to stand, let alone attack."

"How?" Prof. Slate asked in shock. "You've been firing Air Slashes at Graveler and he is resistant to Flying-Type moves."

"Let's do the math. He has a resistance of 50%. Hedwig gets a 50% boost due to being a Flying Type... and the Tinted Lenses Ability that she has, which grants her a 50% boost to non-effective moves..."

Prof. Slate's mouth opened in shock as his Graveler fainted... and then he beamed. "That was amazing! A perfect display of using abilities, attacks, and strategy to overcome type disadvantage! You guys still owe me a page essay but I think you'll all be able to handle it! 50 points to Gryffindor for such an excellent display!"

Harry beamed as the other Gryffindors cheered him and even some of the Slytherins celebrated; yes, they hadn't gotten as many points but they would take a small assisgnment in exchange. Harry looked around, enjoying to fruits of his training with Lugia and the Pack...

...and only briefly noticed the cold glare Draco was sending his way.

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: Before people complain going "That isn't how Tinted Lenses work!"... it is how it works in this story. The show loves to play fast and loose with things... as Brock pointed out Pikachu is able to hurt ground types... so I can make I that Tinted Lenses works like that.

Author's Notes: I love the idea that Brock would hit on McGonagall. After all, when he was 15 he was hitting on women that were 25 to 35 years old, so now that he is almost 10 years older his tastes have, as Neville said, matured.

And hey, we finally get our Ash cameo!

As an aside… no matter how many times I hear it I hear Arbok saying "Char-Bok!" not "AR-BOK!". It is still painful not to write it as Char-bok.