(Two Days Before Harry Rescued Ginger)

Once there was a boy who had thought that he would never find a true friend, one who would look past his name and his family's legacy. But then heo found people who not only accepted him but loved him for who he truly was. And thus he was never alone.

'Hey Jack, can we talk?"

Jack Kenway looked over at Lance and shrugged. The two of them were standing in a grassy plain, trees off in the distance and a cold winter breeze rushing over them. Lance had switched into his thermal uniform while Jack had actually buttoned his long coat to keep out the chill, his hood up less to intimidate and more to just keep himself warm. "We can. Will we talk? Well-"

"You know what I mean," Lance complained.

"You did walk right into that joke though."

"Like a priest and a rabbi into a club." Lance chuckled before pausing, letting Jack do the next stage of his training before they conversed. He knew how important the exercises Jack was doing with his new Pokémon were and didn't want to interrupt.

"Okay girls... get the ball!" Jack said in a sweet tone, lobbing a sparkly pink and baby-blue ball into the air. His Amaura, Baby Love (because try as he might no one was going to call her Caradhras and thus much like Oroku she would break his naming theme), and his new Galar Ponyta, Brega (though apparently Diantha and Clair were egging Jack on to name her Rarity for some reason; Lance didn't know why by the two kept singing about Friendship and Magic whenever they saw her), let out twin cries of delight and chased after the ball. When they got to it the two began to happily play, Baby Love stomping her feet while Brega cantered about with her eyes closed. Lance watched as the two frolicked about, giddy as human toddlers getting a new toy. "Aaaaaannnddd… eyes on me!" Jack commanded. His tone was strong but not stern, the right balance of directness without coming off as angry.

Lance watched as the two stopped and moved to stand before him, watching him carefully. To anyone else it would have looked rather quick but to Lance's critical eye they were far too slow. There was a hesitation, a start when Jack gave the command, and only then did they stop and pay attention. Jack locked eyes with them though and held his gaze, refusing to say a word and letting things become almost stifling with their quietness. But to Baby Love and Brega's credit the two didn't began to look about or nervously move, though he could tell they were wondering when Jack would give a command.

"Return the ball," Jack finally said and the two began to kick the ball over to him, finally stopping before him and flashing looks of pleased delight. Their trainer nodded and leaning down, first running his hands along Baby Love's cheeks and then her crests, making her coo, before he moved to Brega and began to gently run his fingers along her neck, careful not to touch her face. Brega's eyes half shut in pleasure before Jack finally released her and picked up the ball. "Okay, five minutes of play and then we do it again." He drew out a second ball and gave both a toss, the two Pokémon hurrying off to have some fun.

Lance was familiar with the training method Jack was using... after all the Pack had invented it together over many summers of traveling together. There were plenty of lessons on how to properly train a young Pokémon so they might compete in battles. Usually it involved getting them to understand a move and then using repetition so that they understood to use it when their trainer called out the order to do so. A fine method for most trainers and Olivine Pointe had taught their students that method up until Jack had been made headmaster, at which point he had scraped it for the, in his and the rest of the Pack's opinion, superior method they'd made.

The problem with that method was that it was counter-intuitive in the long run. A trainer taught their Pokémon to obey their orders with snap precision. If a trainer shouted 'Use Water Gun' the Pokémon then used Water Gun. Rather simple. But then, after they spent a bit of time out in the real world and saw how fast paced battles could become, with the flow of combat causing things to rapidly change at any moment, the trainer would realize that they weren't ever going to win if their Pokémon waited for their slower human reactions to see what was happening and give the command. As such many trainers in their early 20s spent a year or so training their Pokémon to use their instincts in order to win a battle. In other words if they saw an opening to use Ice Beam then use Ice Beam before the trainer could give the command.

For the police and soldiers that need for a Pokémon to be able to follow their instincts was even greater. Humans (at least non-enhanced ones or ones that hadn't gone through years of training) weren't designed to be able to handle the speed of Pokémon battles and when criminals were firing off attacks or enemy soldiers were assaulting a base officers and soldiers didn't have time to bark out orders... many times they were busy trying to focus on their own attacks. Thus they needed their partners to be able to think for themselves in the heat of battle... but also know when to work with their trainer during a time of need. Thus a lot of time was spent breaking both Trainer and Pokémon out of engrained habits that might get them both killed.

The Pack had decided to just cut out much of that needless waste of time. Now young Pokémon were taught early on to think for themselves and solve problems... but also be ready to answer a command when their trainer gave it. Jack was starting out small, with something fun for his two newest Pokémon to do that they would enjoy, only for him to interrupt them with a command. Once they reacted instantly to his call he'd move on to having them work on a problem (find an object or knock down a tower were usually the starters) with him then commanding them to perform a different task at any moment. Failure to do so resulted in laps for both Pokémon and trainer; the idea was to show a Pokémon that the trainer was just as much of part of their work as they themselves. It lessened the punishment while also building a bond. It also helped prevent a trainer from being far too harsh with their Pokémon. It was easy to demand a Growlithe to do laps but harder when you had to run them as well. Some students would be far too picky and end up winding themselves trying to perform the very tasks they assigned their Pokémon. It taught them respect.

All of the Pack had come to train their Pokémon in that matter. There were variants, of course... Lance had trained an Aerodactyl by making him dig holes rather than run laps and he knew that Diantha had made her Gardivoir swim with her. But the basics were the same.

"So," Jack said, watching as Brega and Baby Love happily played with the balls, "what's the issue?"

"No issue."

"There is an issue."

"What makes you think that?"

"You wouldn't have asked permission to talk with me if there wasn't an issue. You'd just say it. You only ask for permission if you want to broach something sensitive."

"...huh, never realized I did that."

"You do," Jack said with a half shrug. "So?"

"You and I," Lance gestured between the two of them, "we're good, right?"

"Should we not be?" Jack said, utterly confused. The fact that he even said that was proof that Lance had been worrying about nothing.

"No... I was just being silly."

Jack scoffed. "You are just going to have to tell me anyway... you know I'm not going to let up now, not with that build-up."

Lance sighed and motioned for Jack to take a seat on the grass. Lance arranged his cape so that he could keep warm while Jack wrapped his coat around himself tightly, long legs stretched out before him. "Baby Love I can shrug off, that was Cynthia and Diantha's work and I know you love fossils. But Brega? A fairy type? You have a wide array of types at your disposal, Jack, but now all of a sudden you get the two types that can kick a dragon's ass? Dragons... the type I'm a master of? Pardon me if I'm a little concerned."

His best friend let out a huff. "I did ask for the girls to keep an eye out for an ice type for me, never trained one before... wasn't expecting Car..." he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, "...wasn't expecting Baby Love but considering Smaug I shouldn't have been surprised." He suddenly stopped and looked at Lance. "You hear about the screwed up shit they are pulling in Galar? Taking broken fossils and just combining the DNA together to see what Frankenstein's Monster comes out? I am trying to get the Elite 4 to file complaints, been in contract with some professors… you have contacts still in Kanto that might listen to you? I'm hoping Blaine might be willing to testify how it isn't a good idea to screw with Pokemon DNA. I also considered trying to interview some Rocket Admins that were given pardons, get their take and use the shadow of Mewtwo. There is a couple that settled in Goldenrod, Jes-"

"Jack? Focus."

"Right, sorry." He waved his hand in a 'bah!' gesture. "Yeah, I asked for an ice type and Brega… I wasn't looking for a fairy type but I was thrilled when I found her. But it has nothing to do with you. I hated you once Lance... I won't survive tearing my heart out a second time." He sighed, looking down at his hands for a moment before he spoke once more, his tone soft and whisper-thin. "Normal won't work, nor Psychic or Fighting. Resists poison too. Damaged normally by other attacks but who knows what else he has that could take away that advantage. Fairy is the only choice. That's why Brega is now so important."

It took a moment for Lance to catch on. "Voldemort."

Once there was a man who fought to free his nation so that it might grow on its terms. That earned him forever the love of its people. And thus he was never alone.

"Harry said he was a Spiritomb. He possesses humans and controls them... sometimes they have some manner of control, like Quirrel, but the others? That poor girl Cho Chang? Moody?" Jack grimaced and Lance could tell he was fighting a shudder. "How much of them was them and how much was Voldemort? He told Harry in the Chamber that he consumes souls whole... but when does he actually do it? Is he merely mimicking who they were when they were alive? Or is he like some... alien infection, hiding inside and the people don't realize that he is subtly guiding them until it is too late? Can you imagine it Lance? You are working to hurt the innocent and you don't even realize what you are doing is so against everything you are because that... monster... has gotten into your brain and convinced you that you are the one making those choices?"

Lance couldn't imagine and that made it all the worse. The idea that someone could become someone different, completely different from who they truly were, and not even realize that they were doing it... and worse believe that it was THEIR choice the entire time? It was horrifying to consider.

"We have to kill him, Lance. We have to wipe him from the face of the planet. But how?" Jack smacked the ground. "We threw one of the most powerful Pokémon attacks at him and he SURVIVED it. Worse even if we injure his host he can just find another one. No one has seen Moody and I'm willing to bet he's in a shallow grave and Voldemort is walking around as someone else, some other fool that he convinced to let him in with the promise of power. He... he has to die." Jack dropped his head in his hands. "And I don't know how to do it."

"But you don't have to do it, not on your own," Lance said gently, patting Jack on the back. "Didn't you tell Harry that? Haven't we been trying to drill that into his head? He isn't alone and neither are you. We are going to take the bastard out, all of us. No one person is going to bear this weight alone."

~36 hours later, Tor Town- Avalon~

Once there was a man who created a family not of his blood but of his heart, whom he taught his greatest secrets. And thus he was never alone.

Jack tried to keep Lance's words in his heart as he crouched in one of the trees that was on the edge of the Weasley property. But it was very hard to remember that you weren't alone when you were all by yourself watching over a gym leader's house. A gym leader marked for death by a creature who came right from legend.

Of course Jack also tried to remind himself that he had been part of legendary things himself. After all, the revolution he'd led hadn't been a simple thing. From all sane rational it should have never worked. He'd fought the Kanto government, an institution that had stood for centuries. He'd just been the son of an important man, though not even one who'd been a gym leader. Yet he and the Sons that he had forged had managed to do the impossible and defeat the Empire.

He had discovered Pokémon that were supposed to be nothing more than myth and legend as well. Tell someone 20 years ago that there was a ghostly creature that would find deadwood and mold it into helms that they would then force to grow once more until they formed false-tree armor and one would have been laughed at. Yet Jack had found the Treverent and proven they were real. Same with the Seed Bomb Donpahns or the Tyrantrums that developed thicker skulls that allowed them to stike at opponents without suffering brain damage. All myths. All legends. Until Jack.

Speakers weren't even myth because there had been no one left to tell their tales. They weren't even whispered about or had their legacies discussed in song or poem. No, they were too obscure even for that. And yet now Jack was the Modern Master of Speaking and was slowly working to return the art to the world. He wasn't just discovering a myth, he was creating it.

Jack understood that, more than most, that when he finally took his last breath he would "belong to the ages". He would no longer have control of his story. 'Not that I do now, not really,' he thought to himself as he adjusted his position, sweeping his eyes from side to side. he had his hood fully over his face, with his 'executioner mask' even covering his features; not because he wanted to threaten anyone but because when it was down all the gadgets built into his hood, like the night vision lens, flared to life. 'At best I've been able to keep things from coming off as too extreme. But... that isn't going to last.'

Once Jonas had told him that school children would have to memorize his speeches. He prayed they did not. He never wanted to be a symbol, some legend from a story book. That wasn't why he'd fought the war.

"I want… I want Kanto… to hurt," the tearful girl whispered.

And yet he also knew that was exactly what was going to happen to him. He was going to die and after a few decades, more likely only a few years (or possibly before his body had even grown cold) someone writer or artist would decide to "tell Jack's story" and that would be the end of it. He would be nothing more than a fable. All the depth wiped away and only a two-dimensional being left. They would take the moments they liked, brush aside the ones they didn't, and make him so unattainable hero. Or villain. He wasn't delusional enough to believe he would be universally loved. Already there were those in Kanto that sang songs of his evil. The Butcher of Botanical Bay. Johto would make him a messiah, Kanto the Devil himself. And the rest of the world? Who knew what they would do.

'How does that line go? Be I the hero of my own story or should that role be played by someone else…'

He shook his head and focused on watching the Tor Town Gym.

Lance had told him that the burden was all of theirs but he couldn't accept that even though he knew he should. For he felt that only he understood the tragedy that could come about if they failed. Lance and Jonas… they weren't fathers. They had never looked down upon a child that thought the sun and moon set on their command and understood the power that was held in such love. Cynthia, Diantha, and Clair could understand a little but it was different with mothers. The connection… it was just different. And Jack was the only one who had experienced that. Thus when he'd learned from Harry that Arthur Weasley was being hunted Jack had known that he had to save the man.

'Because I can't add another name to the list of orphans I've allowed to come into the world,' he thought bitterly.

The Pack and their allies had been secretly watching Arthur for nearly a month. And not so secretly. For the likes of Remus and Sirius and Tonks it had been easy, as they'd stopped by to spend time with Arthur and Molly, taking them out to lunch or enjoying dinner with them or just helping out around the gym. For the Weasleys it had been one of the most eventful months of their lives. For the Pack things had been more covert, with all of them taking turns standing watch to ensure that Voldemort and Nocturne didn't claim Arthur while he slept. Jack had taken as many watches as he could and would have taken more if his friends had allowed it.

'I'm built for this,' he thought to himself as he slowly slid his hand down to scratch at an annoying itch on his thigh. 'This is just like tracking except I know right where my target is.' His time in the brush and the wilds had developed in him a patience that still shocked his friends, who were far more used to him being a bundle of energy that hated sitting still. But when stalking his prey or taking up a hidden position Jack could become as silent and unmoving as stone. He'd enter into a kind of meditative state, or at least that's what Drayden had called it; time would go by quicker for him as he cleared his mind of all thoughts yet at the same time he was hyper aware of his surroundings.

Speaking had only allowed him to develop his talents even more. Not only did the Pokemon DNA that ran through his veins enhance his senses but being able to Speak allowed him to sense all that was around him. It made him aware of the larger world and also allowed him to understand that no matter what there were always living creatures around him. Pokémon big and small, hidden from the normal human eye.

Taking one last look around Jack settled against the tree trunk, looking down at the Weasley's house. He could see the flicker of a nightlight that Molly still turned on in the hallway and the small solar lights that were now illuminating the sign (which needed a new coat of paint) that read Tor Town Gym. Looking up and up the hodge-podge tower that was the Weasley home he could see the couple's bedroom window and though he didn't invade their privacy he knew that the two were peacefully resting inside.

Satisfied that everyone was well in the house Jack relaxed his shoulders and shut his eyes, opening his senses to the world.

Once there was a man who learned to hear the voices of Pokémon. And he was never-

Jack's eyes snapped open.

There were no Pokémon.

Not. A. Single. One.

He sniffed the air.

'Max Repel.'

Red dots appeared on his chest and Jack leapt from the tree seconds before the wood exploded in a hail of gunfire.

"Shit shit shit!" he hissed to himself as he turned his fall into a roll. "Idiot!" he cursed to himself as he darted forward, the forest around the Weasley's house exploding with activity. Behind him he heard shouts and cries mixed with the crack of weapons that bit into the ground and forced himself to keep moving. He began to move away from the house but only for a little bit, as he knew if he got too far Nocturne would swarm the Weasley's house and take out Arthur. So Jack had to keep close enough to be ready to assist but far enough away to draw his attackers to him and not get Arthur caught in the crossfire. While he always wore Kevlar under his shirt and his hood had been designed to help stop anything save a direct shot one could still die from the impact of a bullet and Jack wasn't in the mood to see if he'd get lucky. So he began to weave through the trees, doing his best to keep his pursuers at a distance. Reaching into his pocket he grabbed some Charlottes and tossed them out, smirking slightly when seconds later he heard cries and curses when the Agents walked right into his tripwires. Ducking down he slid under a fallen trunk before getting back to his feet and hurrying on; while the Charlottes had caught a few there were still far more on his tail.

Jack reached up and touched the comm. piece he wore. "Jonas, I'm-"

Something exploded to his right and he bellowed in agony, clamping his eyes shut as the night vision goggles flared bright white and his ears felt like they were being torn from his skull. His footing faltered and he slammed into a low branch, grunting as it drove into his chest and knocking the wind out of him. He blinked wildly only for another burst to go off but he'd managed to turn his head in time to avoid most of it, those his ears were still ringing. He quickly disengaged the Night vision goggles and saw that his pursuers were throwing out flashbangs. He touched his hood and activated his hood's silent mood, a current running through it that soundproofed the material. Everything fell away and he could only hear his own breathing as two pursuers got within an arm's reach of him. Jack sneered and lashed out far quicker than they expected, grabbing one's arm and twisting it until it broke before he threw the first figure into the second. They collided together and fell and Jack was on them, grabbing the second man's head and moving to snap his neck only to stop dead in his tracks.

"Oh shit," he muttered as he saw their uniforms. These weren't Nocturne Agents.

They were Avalon Aurors.

Slamming the heel of his palm into the bundle of nerves in the man's neck he felt him go limp before moving to the next one. But it was too late as others were on him, grabbing and yanking him away. Jack began to fight back, thrashing like a beast. He snarled and threw one over his shoulder before kicking out and breaking another's kneecap. Three quick punches to one Auror's chest sent him sprawling back and an elbow to the throat took out another. One was saying something but with the silencers all he heard was his breath rushing through his mouth and nose. More lights were on him now and he saw that the Aurors had brought out an entire battleion to face him. Yanking one man's wrist to him and breaking it at the joint he threw him down before lashing out his arms, his Escrima sticks falling into his hands. He thumbed the pokeball release; the Aurors assumed that the Max Repels would keep his Pokémon from coming out but they were mistaken. He'd trained Azog and the rest to withstand Repels. They would be grumpy about it but it would only-

There was a burst of energy that knocked him and the Aurors around him off their feet.

Jack rolled and pointed his escrima stick at one of the approaching Aurors only for nothing to happen. No Pokeball fired off. He frowned and tried again only for his weapons to once again not respond. He then tried to activate the electro-setting but that failed too.

"Jack Kenway!" an Auror called out and Jack's eyes went wide when he realized the silencer was off too. He looked about and saw that at least 25 Aurors had formed a ring around him, many of them training weapons on him. They were dressed in their dark blue long coats and many of them had batons and riot shields in their hands. "I am Rufus Scrimgeour of the Avalon Auror Corps. You are under arrest for the murder of 41 Avalon citizens and the genocide of Little Surrey." As Scrimgeour spoke Jack reached up and touched his comm. only to find it dead too. "You will find that none of your tricks will work now. I don't know why you targeted the Weasleys but once we learned you were stalking them we sprayed the entire area around Tor Town with Max Repel and sowed it into the soil. No Pokémon will be coming to help you."

"You idiots," Jack snarled. "Come to help me? No Pokémon will want to be around Tor Town for months… maybe even years. You have destroyed the entire ecosystem!"

Scrimgeour ignored him. "As for your weapons we have activated jammers and a miniature EMP generator. It prevents you from calling out your own Pokémon or using your Escrima sticks." Scrimgeour took another step closer, letting Jack get a good look at him. Age worn face, suit jacket under his long coat, thick brown hair that actually looked a bit out of place for one so stern and unforgiving. "Give up now, Kenway… it's over." Two Aurors, one of whom was the Auror Jack had thrown over his shoulder, approached him. He waited until they were close before lashing out with his escrima sticks, shattering one's shoulder blade while breaking the other's hand. As the second began to fall Jack grabbed him and twisted him around just as the Aurors raised their guns.

"I'd watch it ya daft bastards!" Jack called out. "Unlike my brother you don't use guns often, do you? Used to Pokémon battling!" Jack wrapped his arm around the struggling Auror's throat and hissed, "If you keep struggling I will snap your neck. It won't kill you… I'll just do it to leave you a vegetable. Worse than death, huh?" Louder he shouted, "Now, since you don't often use them allow me to explain something! Bullets don't stop when they hit something! And they certainly don't stop if you miss! So you might kill me… might… but even if every shot rips through me you are going to kill this man here." He spun so they could all see him. "I haven't killed a single auror and before tonight I haven't hurt any of you. I am here because Nocturne targeted the Weasleys and-"

"The Weasleys gave us permission to be here, to deal with you," Scrimgeour called out. "Don't' act like you are their friend."

Jack filed that little tidbit away for later. "-but if you are willing to do your job and protect them I'll go. But, if you really want to kill me purely because I took out the monsters you should be hunting yourself… just look at our friend… what's your name, mate?"

"Screw you."

"Our friend Mr. Screw You here. You know him, right? Worked with him? Maybe went to the pub and drank some of that warm piss you boys and girls love to swill down, huh? Seen pictures of his kids on his desk? Sampled some of the cookies his wife sent for you all?" Jack turned more slowly, wanting them all to have a good look at the Auror he had a hold of. "Think about his family. And think about how you'll have to explain that it wasn't me who killed him but you trigger happy idiots. Because it will be you that kills him if you fire." He paused. "And don't forget you morons are in a circle. Bullets might not hit me at all. Hell, I'm half magical as it is! Maybe I'll just do a spell and you'll all shoot yourselves! So… you want to take that chance? Pull the trigger. Otherwise… let me go."

Scrimgeour stared Jack down. "Sorry Torrence." Before Jack could react Scrimgeour pulled out a shot gun he'd hidden in his jacket and fired, the man crying out and doubling over, breaking free of Jack's grip. Jack too quickly went down with a second shot right to the ribs. He fell down and was instantly swarmed, the Aurors kicking and punching him, several swinging their batons at his torso and furthering the damage to his ribs that Scrimgeour's blow had done. One stomped on his hand and Jack quickly retracted his escrima sticks before he lost them… though the downside was that the blow broke three of his fingers. Another Auror pressed his boot down on his wrist before stomping down on his left elbow, Jack letting out a roar that actually had some of them stumble back from the fury in it. But enough of them kept their nerve and Jack found his bruised and battered body lifted up so he could greet the approaching Scrimgeour. "Bean bag round. Hurts a lot but does the job."

"That's what your mother said last night when I-GAAA!" Jack's retort was cut off when Scrimgeour rammed the butt of his gun into his stomach. "Sorry… sorry… my mistake… it was your dad who said it right before I buggered him in the-" Scrimgeour chose to strike his broken elbow that time.

"As I said, Jack Kenway… you are under arrest. We'll be adding resisting said arrest to your charges."

"What?" Jack panted, feeling blood coat his teeth. "Jealous I actually did your damn job?"

"You killed good people in that graveyard."

"I killed Nocturne agents. They rape and murder. They tried to kill two children!"

"Some did, yes. But do you know all were guilty? That some weren't forced to be there? Compelled?"

"Doesn't matter," Jack rumbled. "Always a choice… you put on that mask and you have to live with it. There are always choiced… always ways to seek out help. They happily answered the summons to kill my child and Harry Potter, your god damn savior. They were guilt."

"You don't get to decide that," Scrimgeour retorted darkly. "That is the difference between you and me. You serve your own twisted vendettas. I serve justice." He paused, tilting his head. "And that is why I've decided to serve it now." His hand darted out and grabbed Jack's masked face, forcing his chin up. "Justice will be served and seeing as you most likely already have plans of escaping from our cells I think it only wise to do things as they were once done. A barbarian like you should appreciate that. We are going to try you… right here. And when you are proven guilty…" he made a motion with his hands and something heavy and coarse fell over Jack's head and tightened around his neck.

A noose.

Once there was a man who tried to do what he knew was right. To save the children of Avalon.

And because of that… he was about to die all alone.