Disclaimer: Not only do I not own Harry Potter, I don't own Pokémon either.

Chapter 1: Orphan

For most, it was a perfectly normal morning on Privet Drive, Little Whinging. Children sped around the meticulously trimmed front yards of their homes, dogs yipped and growled as cars drove by, while families together enjoyed the pleasant weather brought about by the end of July.

Looking even closer, you might see a small group of youths, no doubt searching for some sort of mischief, led by a boy who was, by a modest approximation, the size of a baby whale. Of course, his mother would argue that he still hadn't shed his baby weight, simply displaying his "cherubic" features. The object of said gang's mischief was, in fact, the leader's much smaller cousin – me – Harry Potter.

To most, I was known as an ungrateful, unlovable little miscreant, an orphan forced upon the perfectly normal Dursley family at #4 Privet Drive.

Birthed by Petunia Dursley's freakish sister and brother-in-law, both of whom managed to blow themselves up in an automobile accident, I was taken in by my benevolent relatives, only to cause issues at every turn, essentially becoming the neighborhood pariah.

Of course, like most things surrounding the Dursley family tended to be, this depiction was a lie.

Contrary to public opinion, I was actually quite friendly and withdrawn, although those two traits tended not to lend themselves to such an unfortunate situation. Throughout my nearly 11 years of life, I constantly seemed to experience unexplainable occurrences. Those, combined with the foul rumors spread by my relatives, lent themselves to the relative social isolation that I lived every day.

At 7 years old, I mysteriously found myself on the roof of my elementary school. When questioned, I swore up and down to have seen a pair of tightly closed eyes, outlined by pale yellow skin.

At 9 years old, when I was cornered by Dudley's gang, a dark, terrifying presence seemed to fall over the group, forcing everyone to scatter. After the fact, the only thing I could recall was a high-pitched giggling noise.

Those, I decided while looking up at the ceiling of my cupboard, were decidedly not my fault. Perhaps I'd upset a spirit in a previous life or maybe crawled underneath a ladder when I was a baby, cursing myself with 13 years of bad luck. Either way, it seemed nothing was liable to change any time soon. It honestly seemed like magic sometimes.

"Boy! I want lunch started in 10 minutes… roast beef, sausage, and potatoes by the time that Dudley returns!"

I sighed, running a hand through my pitch-black hair, before nimbly slipping out of the cupboard. Though I'd much rather ignore the order and delay the inevitable, years of casual smacks by Uncle Vernon had taught me differently. That man could hit hard – his old boxing trophies, tightly stuffed into my cupboard stood as a testament to the fact.

Carefully laying sausage links into a pan, I silently wished for someone – anyone – to take me away from the life of misery with the Dursleys. It seemed that my plea would have to be put on hold though, as a loud series of thumpsapproached the kitchen, and my loving family made themselves known.

"Still not finished, boy?" Uncle Vernon groused. "I wish I could say that I expected differently, but that would be a load of crock."

"Sorry Uncle Vernon." I muttered as I lifted the pan, deftly dodging a punch aimed by Dudley.

Serving my uncle and cousin, who attacked the food with a ferocity, and my aunt, who accepted the meal with an indignant sniff, I retreated to the sink, intent on doing the dishes before escaping to the relative safety of my cupboard.

"Dear, we have dinner with the O'Connell's next week and I expe – AHHHHHHH!" Whatever Aunt Petunia had planned to say was cut off with a shrill shriek, accompanied with a soft crack.

My head whipped around, nearly snapping my neck, as I was greeted by the oldest – and possibly the strangest-looking – man I'd ever seen in my life, standing in the middle of the kitchen. Somehow, the man, bearing a long white beard and a tie-dyed overcoat, was not the most bizarre sight. Rather, the decidedly not-human-looking creature with its hand on his shoulder took that distinction.

"Another perfect display of teleportation, my old friend." The old man commented, seemingly addressing the pale green-and-white figure next to him.

I pinched my own arm, convinced that I was dreaming, silently trying to force myself back to wakefulness. Across the room, the Dursleys sat frozen in fear, terror etched on their faces.

Oblivious to the stunned silence that surrounded him, he turned and faced me. "Ah Harry, I must say it's quite a pleasure to see you again. The last time that I saw you, you were but a tiny baby."

"Who – who are you?"

"Ah! It seems I've forgotten my manners. My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Executive Vice President of the Interregional Pokémon League Association and current Headmaster of Hogwarts. Though I wouldn't expect you to understand much of that yet." The now-named Dumbledore revealed.

"More importantly, I've come to offer you a position at Hogwarts School for Pokémon Trainees."

Feeling entirely bewildered, I accepted the envelope that Dumbledore presented, noting that it was addressed directly to me, right down to my home-sweet-cupboard. Hands shaking, I broke the seal to reveal the contents.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School for Pokémon Trainees. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. Please report to King's Cross Station at Platform Nine and Three Quarters to board the Hogwarts Magnet Train at 11 a.m.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

"Sir, I've never heard of any of these before. Hogwarts, Pokémon… what does it all mean?" I asked, desperate for more information.

Dumbledore chuckled, eyes twinkling madly. "You're certainly quite inquisitive, aren't you my boy? Well, let me start from the beginning."

Leading me into the living room, the two of us took a seat, while the creature, likely a Pokémon remained standing. The Dursleys however, had yet to leave the dining table.

"Pokémon are, simply put, creatures that possess fantastical powers, many of which are beyond human comprehension. Resembling plants, common animals, machines, or extraterrestrial forms, they have become potential allies to a select few of us humans."

"That's where you, Harry, come in. Within a small percentage of humans in the world, there exists a primal energy called Aura, which acts as an internal beacon to Pokémon. It's what allows us to form a connection with our chosen partners and live in harmony alongside of them. Without it, we would be no more interesting to Pokémon than inanimate objects, unable to form any sort of bond with them."

"Finally, Hogwarts is the premier academy in Britain for Pokémon trainees. As per the Interregional League Association's regulations, all potential Pokémon trainers must attend seven years of schooling in order to prepare themselves for their chosen futures, whether they be in competitive battling, coordinating, or any other potential profession."

Feeling thoroughly amazed, I decided that, for the moment, I needed to hear nothing more. A school surrounded by incredible creatures, led by Albus Dumbledore… I could finally escape this current existence and enter a whole new world.

At this exact moment, Uncle Vernon burst through the door, having recovered much of his bravado. "I AM NOT PAYING FOR HIM TO ATTEND SOME CRACKPOT SCHOOL TO PLAY WITH ANIMALS!"

My heart dropped into my stomach.

Dumbledore, however, remained unfazed by Uncle Vernon's outburst, fixing him with a glacial stare. "Why Vernon, I doubt you've paid for much of anything concerning your nephew, considering the state of his clothes and the cupboard that he resides in."

Uncle Vernon gulped at the Headmaster's revelation, taking a shaky step back. He bumped into Aunt Petunia, who had followed behind him.

"And Petunia, I must say, Lily and James would be disgusted by your treatment of their son throughout the last 10 years. Make no mistake, he will not return here again… and beyond that, the League shall officially withdraw any and all protections that were placed upon this home."

With an air of finality, he turned back to me, immediately shedding all tension. "Come along, my boy. We can purchase your books and supplies, as well as anything else you need at Azelf Alley. Do you have anything that you wish to bring along?"

I shook my head, still feeling a bit dumbfounded.

"Then let us be off! Come stand in front of Gardevoir, and she will teleport us to our destination."

Turning to my aunt and uncle, I gave a halfhearted shrug and a wave, before doing as Dumbledore instructed. Feeling two hands on my shoulders, I looked up at Gardevoir and the Headmaster, both of whom gave me encouraging smiles.

"Ah Harry, one more thing."

"Sir?"

"Happy birthday, dear child."

With another soft crack of displaced air, I stumbled forward, suddenly aware that we were no longer on Privet Drive. Looking around eagerly, I noticed that the three of us stood in a well-lit bar, surrounded by conversing patrons.

"Where are we, sir?" I asked.

"This is the public entrance to Azelf Alley, better known as the Protean Tavern." Dumbledore answered. "Nearly every person who wishes to visit must enter through this route."

"Why do they call it the Protean Tavern? Isn't that something in chicken and milk that makes your bones stronger?"

Dumbledore laughed merrily, making my cheeks burn in embarrassment. "No no, though I can see how one might be confused by that. The Protean that I'm referring to is spelled P-R-O-T-E-A-N, an ability almost exclusive to the Froakie line, a rare breed of water-type Pokémon."

"Essentially, the Pokémon shifts itself into any of the 18 different elemental types in order to increase the effectiveness of its attacks. In terms of this establishment, it's meant to signify that any person will find comfort here." He continued, patting me on the shoulder. "Now, I'm afraid we don't have much time to dawdle. Let us be off!"

Following the Professor through the tavern, I took note of some of the unrecognizable Pokémon wandering around. I spotted one that looked vaguely like a reptilian bodybuilder, one resembling a pink balloon, and another in the form of a giant bumblebee.

Dumbledore and Gardevoir stopped short of an archway. Peeking my head around the two, I took my first look at Azelf Alley, seeing an assortment of restaurants, shops, and Pokémon of all shapes and sizes.

"It's brilliant!"

"Indeed. Now, I've already taken the liberty of acquiring and preprogramming one of the most important devices in a trainer's arsenal for you." Dumbledore said, holding out a slim, red device. "The Pokédex is, among other things, a handheld electronic encyclopedia; one which is capable of recording and retaining information of the various Pokémon of the world."

I accepted the device, gently placing my thumb on the recognition scanner when prompted. It immediately lit up in a vast array of colors and information, displaying applications for Poké Scanning, GPS services, and mobile banking. Tapping the mobile banking logo, my eyes nearly popped out of my head at the seemingly vast wealth.

Dumbledore smiled down at me. "Indeed, Lily and James left you with far more than just black hair and green eyes. Now that that's settled, shall we commence shopping?"

Nodding excitedly, I drew my Hogwarts acceptance letter, quickly scanning for the Supplies section.

First-year students will require:

Uniform

· Three Sets of Plain Shirts (Black)

· Three Sets of Plain Pants (Black)

· One Plain Jacket (White)

· Athletic Shoes (White)

· One Pair of Protective Gloves

Books

· A History of Pokémon by Bathilda Bagshot

· Pokémon Theory by Adalbert Waffling

· Understanding Pokémon: Types and Abilities by Ignatia Wildsmith

· Wilderness Survival: The Great Outdoors by Phyllida Spore

· Potions: Super, Hyper, Max, and Full by Arsenius Jigger

· Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

· Competitive Battling: Grade 1 by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

· 1 TM Case

· 1 Standard Backpack

Students must bring ONE Pokémon.

"Very well." Dumbledore said. "And now, let us begin the first of many adventures into Azelf Alley!"

I thoroughly enjoyed shopping with the wizened Professor. He seemed to have an enthusiasm for all things Hogwarts, turning what should've been a bit of a chore into an interesting learning experience.

While I twitched and fretted when being fitted for a uniform at Madam Malkin's Trainerwear for All Occasions, he regaled me with stories of the legendary ACE Trainer "Mad-Eye" Moody, whose Medicham was said to meditate for weeks on end while honing its psychic power.

Similarly, when book-shopping at Flourish and Blotts, he pointed me towards a short volume that detailed the greatest Pokémon battles of the 18th century, as a means of inspiration for my own battling style I'd later develop. Quickly purchasing it, along with an additional volume from the 19th century, I noticed the Headmaster grinning widely at my enthusiasm.

When we finally reached Ollivander's, the last stop on our journey, I found myself quite disappointed that it was nearly over, though excited to receive a starter Pokémon.

Looking up at the store, I found it a bit narrow and shabby with peeling gold letters over the door of the shop that read: Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. In the window, a single, old Poké Ball rested on a faded, purple cushion.

"Remember Harry, some things aren't always as they seem. Within this store are thousands of Pokémon, one of whom will be your partner for life. In fact, I met my first Pokémon, Fawkes, here, many years ago." Dumbledore motioned, sensing my trepidation.

"What species of Pokémon is Fawkes, Professor?"

Dumbledore smiled, reaching to his belt, he tapped the release mechanism on a pale, scratched Poké Ball. From it materialized a large, moth-like Pokémon with blue, compound eyes and six leaf-like wings, orange in color.

Wings fluttering rapidly, the large creature zipped over to the Headmaster, folding two wings around him in a pseudo-hug.

I laughed at the cheerful display of affection, prompting the Pokémon to zoom over to me, whirling around my form to inspect from all sides.

"Fawkes, Harry, is a Volcarona, a Fire and Bug-type Pokémon." Dumbledore revealed. "He's my oldest friend, though he often behaves quite like a child."

At that, Fawkes folded his wings around my shoulders in much the same fashion as before, prompting me to laugh once again. "He's beautiful, sir. I hope that I'm as lucky as you in finding a starter."

"Of that my boy, I have no doubt." Dumbledore replied. "Fawkes, I'm afraid that I must return you, one can only imagine the sort of damage you'd do in Ollivander's shop."

The majestic Pokémon buzzed mournfully, though not before waving one of his tiny claws in farewell, allowing his partner to recall him.

"He seems to like you quite a lot… I may be vying for my own Pokémon's affections soon enough." Dumbledore chuckled, before pushing me ahead. "Now, let us begin!"

Entering the shop, I found it much the same as I'd expected, though found myself surprised by the rows upon rows of Poké Balls lining every wall. Seemingly in no consistent order, shelves were squeezed in, seemingly at random. Without any sort of labelling or numerical system, I found myself wondering how Ollivander kept track of his inventory.

"Mr. Potter."

My head snapped to the left, the direction from which the voice emanated. Seeing an old man with pale silvery eyes and white skin who I assumed to be Ollivander, I marginally relaxed.

"Garrick, my old friend, I see you've never lost your habit of scaring potential customers."

"An old man must find ways to entertain himself, Albus. Else we lose the simple pleasures in life." Ollivander laughed lightly, before turning his gaze back to me. "It seems like only yesterday, Mr. Potter, that your parents came for their first Pokémon. An Elekid and a Magby for Lily and James, respectively… they became quite the terror on the battlefield as an Electivire and a Magmortar."

"A terror, indeed." Dumbledore mused. "The Reapers' Bane, they came to be known as. James became so full of himself the first time that moniker was used."

Shaking himself out of his melancholy, Ollivander beckoned me over. "Before we begin, you must know, the Pokémon chooses the trainer."

"How will I know if it's right for me?" I asked, utterly confused. That made no sense. From that I'd gathered throughout the day, trainers caught Pokémon in the wild, sometimes against their will.

Ollivander cracked an age-old smile. "You simply will."

Sweeping away with speed that belied his age, the man hastened to a shelf, grabbing a Poké Ball seemingly at random, before placing it in my hand. Feeling nothing, I shook my head, prompting the man to snatch it up.

On and on the process continued, sometimes barely grazing an orb across my skin before it was swept away and replaced.

Dumbledore seemed perfectly content, humming a catchy tune while tapping around on his Pokédex. Occasionally, it emanated a tune that sounded suspiciously similar to The Legend of Zelda, Dudley's favorite video game. I now had some important research to conduct on my own Pokédex later.

Meanwhile, Ollivander looked utterly gleeful, practically juggling Poké Balls in an attempt to place them in my hand. Once, I thought I might have felt a connection, but it was only a short, fleeting warmth, one that the Pokémon breeder assured me wasn't a perfect match.

Eventually, once an utterly enormous pile of spheres had coalesced, and I fought to keep myself from asking Dumbledore if he was perhaps looking for another Harry Potter, Ollivander screeched to a stop in front of a dusty shelf.

"Could it be possible? Let's see… that would be interesting… worth a shot."

"I must say, Mr. Potter, you are by far the most difficult customer that I've had in a long time. Very few trainees take so long to uncover a connection." The wandmaker said, holding a single Poké Ball in his hand.

"Err thank you?" I replied. "What did you say would be interesting a moment ago?"

"This Ball contains a Pokémon that I never expected to sell. You see, every Pokémon within the Poké Balls that you've held have performed an unconscious reading of your Aura, determining whether or not they see you as compatible." Ollivander explained, holding up the sphere.

"This one is incredibly exotic, not to mention rare, and simply has very little chance of connecting with any given wizard in this region. To be completely honest, I had been considering releasing it into the wild soon." Reverently placing the Poké Ball in my hand, he took a step back.

Once, twice, three times the Ball shook before popping open in a flash of red, materializing into a compact form.

In front of us stood a small, quadruped Pokémon similar to a dinosaur. On the front of its head, it bore a large, heart-shaped yellow scale above a beak-like snout and large red eyes, and a solid yellow teardrop scale protected the end of its tail. Looking up at its audience, the small being let out a confused, metallic-sounding growl.

"A perfect match, it seems. Mr. Potter meet Jangmo-o, a Dragon-type Pokémon from the island of Hawaii within the North American League. His species eventually evolves into the fearsome dual-type Dragon and Fighting Pokémon, Kommo-o, whose glittering scales are prophesized to drive away a great darkness." At this, Jangmo-o seemed to perk up, excited by the power that it would one day wield.

Kneeling down, I extended a hand to my new Pokémon, allowing it to familiarize itself with my scent. Slowly pulling out my Pokédex, I enabled the scan function, curious to learn more about the strange creature.

Jangmo-o, the 'Scaly Pokémon.' It expresses its feelings by smacking its scales against objects. Metallic sounds echo through the mountains where Jangmo-o lives, as a means of communicating with others and intimidating enemies.

Gender: Male.

This Jangmo-o knows the moves: Tackle, Protect, and Dragon Breath (Egg move). Its ability is Bulletproof, which protects the Pokémon from most ball and bomb moves.

As if to emphasize the Pokédex's point, Jangmo-o accidentally smacked his scaled tail against the metallic leg of a nearby table, producing an almighty GONG sound that forced myself, Dumbledore, and Ollivander to cover our ears. Looking immediately self-conscious, he rushed over and nuzzled my leg as if to apologize.

Laughing despite the ringing in my ears, I patted the Pokémon's head-scale. "Do you want to be friends, Jangmo-o?"

My new partner emphatically released a warbling roar, nearly shuffling in place from excitement in finally finding a trainer.

"I daresay, Harry, Jangmo-o may be one of the most powerful Pokémon that's bonded with a first-year in decades." Dumbledore interjected. "When fully evolved, perhaps he'll prove a worthy match for Antioch, my Salamence."

"Do you think that's possible, sir?"

"Indeed, you have quite the impressive specimen." He continued. "I have no doubt that he'll grow into a force to be reckoned with."

Struck by a thought, I turned back to Jangmo-o. "Would you like a nickname? From what I understand, many Pokémon choose a unique name."

Upon a nod of affirmation, I whipped out my Pokédex, quickly surfing the web until I found the idea that had been borne minutes ago.

"Mr. Ollivander said that a Kommo-o's glittering scales are supposed to drive away a great darkness." I began excitedly. "What do you think of 'Hoku,' meaning 'star,' in your native Hawaiian?"

Taking a moment to think it over, Jangmo-o – Hoku – gave a ringing growl, signaling a positive response. Smiling, I lightly tapped my partner on the head-scale before recalling him into his Pokéball.

Rising from his seat, Dumbledore clapped his hands. "I do believe this was a most enlightening experience for all of us." Motioning towards me, he continued. "Harry, why don't you pay Mr. Ollivander and we conclude this shopping trip."

Upon the transference of payment via Pokédex, the silvery-eyed Pokémon Breeder grasped my hand tightly. "Your parents' defiance of Grindelwald gave birth to a legacy. I encourage you to climb even higher… I expect great things from you, Mr. Potter."

As we strode back towards the Protean Tavern, I gave in to the urge that'd been nagging me ever since we left Ollivander's. "Sir, who exactly is Grindelwald?"

Dumbledore seemed to instantaneously age by a century, slowing his pace before lowering himself onto a nearby bench.

"Gellert Grindelwald… where to begin?" The old man sighed. "In short, he was the most tyrannical Pokémon Master of the past three centuries, one who began a bloody regime in an attempt to topple the Interregional League Association."

"What made him so feared?"

"As you would expect, he wielded an exceptionally powerful team of Pokémon, raising them to heights that most trainers could only dream of breaching." Dumbledore told me. "Before revealing his true colors, he rose to the peak of the North American League, ripping the crown from Champion Picquery and reigning undefeated for over 30 years. Proclaimed a Master of Dark and Dragon-type Pokémon, very few could stand up to his might."

I frowned at that.

"As is the case with many powerful men, he desired more. On March 25th, 1970, under the guise of a Leaders Summit between North America and Europe outside of Oxford, Grindelwald commanded his twin Hydreigon to rain Draco Meteors upon the unsuspecting League Officials, killing the European Champion." Dumbledore continued. "If not for the timely reactions of a few Pokémon, including my own Gardevoir, I fear that no leaders would have survived to stand against his regime."

"Immediately after, he abdicated the Champion's seat, as to prevent any repercussions taken upon North America, as they technically had nothing to do with the War." Dumbledore looked pained. "You must understand, Harry, Grindelwald was a shadow in the night to our people, he could strike from anywhere and everywhere. Only those of enormous power could stand against him or defend those that they loved… Europe was unraveling, and he was the specter pulling the strings."

"How was he ever defeated?" I asked, feeling my heartbeat speed up. "He sounds unbeatable."

"On October 31st, 1981, he attacked Hogwarts, the last major center of power in Europe, in an effort to finally solidify his domination over the continent. The last bastion of hope, The Guardians of the Flame led by Myself, the European Champion, and your parents, Lily and James, marched out to meet Grindelwald and his Reapers one last time." Dumbledore revealed, looking grim. "Magma spewed from the earth, Water rose from the lake, and Lightning was pulled from the sky. Your parents fought valiantly, and saved hundreds that day, at the cost of their own lives."

A tear slid down my cheek, in both pride and sorrow at my parents' actions. "How did it end?"

Feeling a comforting arm around my shoulders, I looked up and saw Dumbledore, eyes shining with unshed tears. I suddenly understood a bit more about the Headmaster. This was a man who'd seen too much, lost too many people, yet soldiered on for love of those he had left.

"Finally, I was left standing over Grindelwald. My Swampert gave his life on the battlefield that day, protecting me from a Hyper Beam that would have surely hastened me to the next great adventure." Sighing, he drew a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes. "I longed to hurt him like he'd made me suffer, but that was not my place. Mercy, Harry, is a virtue that we must all practice, even in our darkest moments."

"Grindelwald is no longer for this earth. Without him, the sun shines for a brighter day."

I took a deep breath, processing all that I'd been told. It hurt immensely to know that my parents had died on the battlefield that day, though I was filled with pride at both the power and nobility that they'd displayed.

Standing up, I smiled at Dumbledore. "Thank you for your time today, sir. I plan to do my parents proud at Hogwarts."

"Ah Harry, you do them proud every day as an admirable young man. Now come, we must put you up at the Protean Tavern before all of the rooms fill up!"

"I'm afraid this is where I must leave you." Dumbledore said as he handed me a room key. "I shall see you again at Hogwarts, and I daresay you will enjoy the school immensely."

"Do remember to arrive at King's Cross Station by 11 a.m. and remember, approach the barrier at a bit of a jog." He continued. "Is there anything else that you wish to ask before I depart?"

"Sir, just one thing. Who was the Champion that fought alongside of you and my parents that day?" I asked, intrigued. "Is he still Champion today?"

Dumbledore smiled wistfully. "That man is the single most talented trainee to walk the halls of Hogwarts in all my years as a Professor." Now chuckling, he continued. "His name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, Harry, a man whom I am proud to have called my student."

Walking away, he paused. "Perhaps you'll meet him in battle one day, my boy. Farewell for now!" And with that, Gardevoir teleported the wizened Professor away.

Releasing Hoku, my lips quirked into a smile at the thought of battling the man who stood beside my parents in war. Yes indeed, one day I would.

That's Chapter 1! I hope everyone enjoyed the beginning to my story.

As you can tell, we're in very AU territory, seeing as Grindelwald waged war in 1970, Tom Riddle is the European League Champion, and Lily and James didn't lose their lives in Godric's Hollow.

I'm de-aging a few characters, namely Dumbledore and Tom, mostly because people in this universe don't have magic to lengthen their lives past normal means. Therefore, both of them are 35 years younger than they were before, meaning that Dumbledore is 80 and Tom is 36. This applies for other age demographics near them but isn't a super important part of the story.

Please leave a review if you enjoyed it or want to make any comments. Until next time!

6/25/20: Sorry for the huge overhaul in perspective, but I recently finished the story Sacrifice and Subjugation, as well as The Lie I've Lived, and I realized that I could write much more effectively in first-person. It's much easier to write Harry from my own perspective, as it keeps him from getting tangled with the larger team that he'll eventually wield.

Sorry if you don't enjoy that, but I just released a second chapter as an apology!

-Appolaa