James found it amusing that even Hillevi seemed to forget she was a Viking.
For all that she was small and patient and kind to a fault, a peace-keeper, the reddish-brunette had a core of fire and steel mirrored in her original Pokemon.
Like when H.Y.D.R.A. had hurt Tony, or Draco and his thugs had threatened Harry, she proved a fierce combatant in protection of those precious to her.
It had apparently been quite a shock, despite last year's debacle, for her to confront Draco and inform him, in no uncertain terms, that she would be drawing blood as payment next time the so-called Prince of Slytherin stepped out of line.
So, while there were suspicions of Harry being The Heir, no one dared to say so out loud anywhere within earshot of the Dragon of Gryffindor.
It took a week for Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff, to confront Harry outside the Gryffindor common room while Hillevi was having her Dragons checked over by Nurse Poppy, which ended up in an hour-long rant where he demanded the attacks to stop and Ron, Ginny and Luna got in the boy's face.
At least it provided solid alibis for both Gryffindors when Justin Finch-Fletchley was found petrified across school grounds during that time, though Cloudjumper still wailed and cried when it happened.
"I think I need to put a plaque up above this bed, Mister Potter." Nurse Poppy teased. "Make sure it's always reserved for you."
Harry smiled weakly from his position on said bed, left arm propped up in a flexi-cast and Ludwig fussing along with the Chansey over it.
The Gauntlet Match against Slytherin had been going great until the end, where a lucky Rock Throw from Marcus Flint's Graveler struck the boy's arm just before he crossed the finish line, and Hillevi was just glad that the fluid from Chansey's egg would fix him up by morning.
"You're lucky, Mister Potter. You could have had your arm torn clean off or, at the very least, the bones ripped away."
Cloudjumper twittered worriedly at that, perched on the headboard with Andi hanging off her shoulders, and even Sting chittered from his half-hidden place curled around James' ear.
"You okay, mate?" Ron wondered, aborting a pat to Harry's shoulder.
"I'm fine, Ron. Doesn't even hurt anymore."
"Good." Hermione voiced, a touch relieved. "I'm surprised you didn't cry out. I would have."
"When you grow up like I did, you learn to hold your tongue." Harry explained, tone purposely light-hearted despite the glances his friends shared and the whir of James' vibranium arm. "How much is Oliver crowing about this?"
"A lot." Neville admitted, managing a smile. "He's been proclaiming that Gryffindor will beat the school record for total victories without a defeat."
"Of course, he's also telling Fred and George that you guys are going to be practicing even harder to ensure you beat Hufflepuff to complete the sweep." Ginny added.
"Crud…So much for sleeping in."
"Nurse Poppy!" Ron called, waving the woman over. "Can I ask you something?"
"I think you just did, Mister Weasley." She replied with a smile, and he took a moment to think that over before continuing.
"I have a Magikarp, and I'm trying to figure out when he'll evolve. Can you take a look at him?"
"Is this the suicidal fish I've heard so much about?" Nurse Poppy wondered, accepting the Poke Ball.
"He's not suicidal!" Ron burst, wilting as he remembered who he had yelled at. "He just…gets into tricky spots."
"Like the blender in the kitchen?" Ginny voiced. "Or the garbage disposal? Or the microwave?"
"The dryer. The oven. The toaster." James listed blandly.
"I get it!" The male Weasley snapped, glaring at both his sister and sort-of friend.
Dexter popped up over Hillevi's shoulder as Nurse Poppy scanned Magikarp's Poke Ball, frowning and typing in a few commands before scanning again.
"Mister Weasley, is your Magikarp holding anything?"
"Nope. I want to wait till he evolves to give him something. Should I have?"
"No, no…"
"Good!" Ron voiced, relieved.
"Tell me, did you notice anything unusual about your Magikarp? Not his actions, but how he looked?"
The Valhallan paused in patting the Numel's head, who sighed as another pulse of heat escaped his hump.
"I think he's a shiny! He has these neat sparkly spots running along his body!"
"Are they under his scales? Some so deep you couldn't even touch them?"
"Yeah!"
Nurse Poppy let out a sad sigh, and Cloudjumper twitched, looking up from Harry.
"Mister Weasley, those are Everstones."
James went absolutely still at that, and Neville stared at the Poke Ball with dread.
Ron, for his part, was rather nonplussed by this.
"Okay…So will those help him evolve or something?"
"He's never going to evolve, Mister Weasley."
Dexter buzzed, clapping both hands over his speakers.
"Wh-What? You, you can't mean…You…"
"Oh, Ron…" Hermione started, sympathetic.
"No, no! I don't believe you!" Ron nearly shouted, on the edge of panic. "He'll evolve! Has to evolve!"
"There is a chance, albeit a small one, that he might one day evolve." Nurse Poppy admitted as she handed the Poke Ball back. "But it's a thousand-to-one odds, Mister Weasley. I'm so sorry."
The nurse retreated, closing the curtains around Harry's bed for privacy, as Ron collapsed into a chair.
"Well, that explains why he's suicidal…" Ginny surmised awkwardly.
"My special Pokemon…" He muttered, staring dumbly at the Dive Ball in his hands. "He was supposed to be my best Pokemon, from the Forbidden Island…Everyone else got a cool Pokemon…Why does this keep happening to me? My Raticate doesn't listen to me…My Magikarp will never evolve…Why does this keep bloody well happening to me?"
"Well, you still have Cubchoo." Neville pointed out, trying to be supportive.
"And I'm still going to trade you Emolga." Harry added. "Not, uh, for Magikarp, but I'm sure you'll catch something I'll want."
"Yeah." Ron barked out on a laugh. "I'll probably get a Metapod that fell in some concrete and can never become a Butterfree."
"The Elite Four."
Everyone turned to Luna, confused by her words.
"The Elite Four don't use six Pokemon. They use three or four. They train them up, raise them to be strong. Elite Four members don't have hundreds of Pokemon they use to battle, they focus on a few and make them the strongest."
"Avengers do the same thing." James added, following along. "Only got two or three Pokemon each that we take into battle. Tony and Bruce don't even use their Pokemon."
Both the half-Veela and the Winter Soldier leveled Ron with a look.
"Think you're too good to do that, Ron?"
Said Weasley swallowed back his tears, a watery smile taking shape.
"That…That's actually a great idea."
"You've already put in a bunch of time with Cubchoo." Hillevi voiced, joining in.
"And all of that time with Magikarp wasn't a waste, because it helped teach you how to care for Pokemon like him." Harry added. "Now, if you ever catch a Feebas or something, you'll have it evolved in no time!"
"Yeah…Yeah!" Ron agreed, perking up. "Cubchoo is getting pretty strong. Imagine how great he'll be when I'm not splitting my time between him and Magikarp!"
"That's the spirit, Ron!" Hermione stated, beaming. "Maybe, instead of just capturing any Pokemon you find, you can do research on what types would work best with your Cubchoo! Then you could have a one-two combo!"
"That's brilliant, Hermione! And I bet-"
"I demand assistance!"
The group fell quiet as Draco's voice filled the medical ward, and Luna reached over to dim the light over Harry's bed, casting the outside people as shadow-figures against the curtains.
"It's like the Johto Kimono Girl's Shadow Theater." Hermione whispered, and Hillevi nodded in agreement, remembering the one show she had been taken to as a child.
"Yes, Mister Malfoy?" Nurse Poppy answered, all cool professionalism now.
"My Servine was injured during my Gauntlet match. You refused to take care of her when the game ended, forcing me to walk all the way here."
Cloudjumper tingled at the annoyance that came from James at the reminder that Draco had likely bribed his way into being the Slytherin team's Runner.
"Yes, yes I did, Mister Malfoy. Had I not been treating Mister Potter's broken arm, I would have taken care of your Servine. As it is, his injuries were greater than your Servine's."
"You don't know that." Draco replied, trying for worried and ending up closer to petulant, a "When my father hears about this!" on the edge of his tongue.
Hillevi had not heard the words since Lucius Malfoy had come nearly a month ago to meet with Professor Flitwick and talked to his son in private, though the Malfoy heir had made a point not to say much of anything in her presence since the Battle Club.
It was for the best.
Once Nurse Poppy disappeared to take a look at his Servine, a new shadow joined him.
"Well, seems like the mighty Draco Malfoy can't throw his weight around." Cho Chang noted slyly. "Of course, you never could, could you?"
"I'd watch my mouth if I were you, Chang. Your family has managed to make some success in Avalon, but their grasp on the high life is weak. All it would take is a little push, and…"
A twirl of the hand, in mimicry of his father, symbolized the rest.
"Of all our luck." Ron whispered. "Our most favorite people in the world in the same room."
"Maybe they'll kill each other and make us all happy." Ginny hoped.
"Or fall in love and produce babies." Luna pointed out.
Very slowly, James reached out to pull the half-Veela close by the shoulders and cover her mouth to prevent further mental trauma.
"And who would be pushing me, Malfoy?" Chang asked, a touch snide. "The Malfoys? At least my family doesn't pretend to be something they aren't."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
A laugh answered.
"You go on and on about how mighty the Malfoy family is, how grand and wonderful! You and your parents have worked really hard to make yourselves look like the perfect Avalon family…but you aren't all Avalon family, are you?"
Cho's shadow passed through Draco's, circling.
"Your mother is, of course, though from what I hear, her family isn't the most shining example of Avalon standards. Or modern ones, at the very least. One aunt cast out of the family for marrying a…new-blood is the term, right? The other aunt locked away on Sevii, because she wasn't clever enough to avoid capture. The only one that you could feel any pride in was your great cousin Sirius. He died a hero, yes, but from what I hear, he didn't like your daddy that much."
Hillevi straightened at that, brow furrowing, as Cloudjumper tilted her head in confusion.
"But then there's precious daddy Malfoy." Chang continued, head tilting with a sense of malice and contentment. "Yes, Lucius Malfoy…Head of the House of Malfoy. But he isn't really the head, is he? Not of the whole family."
"What are you blathering on about?" Draco countered, in denial. "My father is the Head of our House, the Gym Leader of Dagonet City, the-"
"Blah, blah, blah." Cho cut in, unimpressed. "You can scream that as much as you want, it won't make it true. I'm not one of the little sycophants that hang on your every word and pledge themselves upon the Book of Malfoy. I know all about you and your little secrets, Draco."
"You know nothing." The Malfoy snarled back.
"I know your father isn't from Avalon. He came here as an angry young man, cursing his own father's name for refusing to name him his heir. That title went to your dear aunt, the true Head of the House of Malfoy."
"My father has no family."
"We all have family, Draco. We just sometimes don't want to admit it. You do have an aunt, a very famous one. She's from Kalos, like your dad, yes, but she's also been the Champion of the Unova and Sinnoh Pokemon Leagues. Cynthia…Yes, I believe that's her name."
"You can throw out names all you want. Doesn't make it true." Draco countered, waving her words off. "Just like you kindly reminded me. You want to talk about family, Cho? Let's talk about family. Let's talk about a little girl whose mummy and daddy are the laughingstock of the Avalon elite. You and your parents like to pretend like you're some grand family, and that you're destined for some marvelous things. You just forget one little thing, Chang."
Draco leaned in, and Chang backed away a half-step.
"Avalon belongs to my family."
"You like to think it does-"
"I don't think. I know. The Elite Four have power, and we do have a Prime Minister, but it's the Gym Leaders that control Avalon's fate. The Potters and the Blacks are long gone. The Greengrasses are too cautious to make a big play. The Weasleys…The Weasleys! Their gym is little more than a barn where their brats roll around in the dirt like Poochyenas!"
James picked up Ron and Ginny before they attacked, tossing one over each shoulder.
"The Duggary Family might have been something once, but you've seen how they've fallen. The heir is a Duffer! The Clearwaters are just as useless. The Lovegoods are too mad to do anything, not even worth a second glance."
Luna smiled, now that she was free.
"The second greatest trick the devil played was making the world believe he wasn't real."
"What was the first?" Harry asked.
"Making the world believe he does."
"The Parkinsons are tied to my family now." Draco continued. "When Pansy and I are married, both Gyms will belong to me. Maybe I'll reward a loyal follower…Maybe I'll just give that Gym to my second-born and let there be two Malfoy lines."
"You aren't the Head of your House yet." Chang reminded him.
"But I will be one day. There aren't too many allies you can rely upon to take me out, either. The only one that might is Longbottom, and I doubt very much he would be interested in helping you after you hurt his intended."
"Longbottom." Chang snapped, head tilting again. "Is that respect I hear in your voice for the little pudge?"
James tucked Luna under his mechanical arm.
"Yes, he might be utterly pathetic, but most of you are when compared to me. He's merely the best of a bad bunch."
"And Haddock?"
Silence fell then, and Hillevi took in a quiet breath, glancing between the shadows.
"Won't be a problem." Draco answered, a touch tight. "You don't get it, do you? My father destroys people like you every day, and I have learned much while at his side. If I wanted to, I could make your life filled with bliss and wonder…Or a never-ending journey of pain that leaves you wishing for a death that I will not allow to come till I'm ready for it to snatch you up."
"And how will you be doing that when you have no home and no Gym?" Chang laughed. "You honestly believe there's a Gym waiting for you when you graduate, don't you?"
"Of course there is! My father-"
"Is a placeholder. A steward. The true Eighth Gym Leader of Avalon has returned. The Malfoys only have their Gym because Lily's Heir was not of age to claim it…But he will, Draco, he will when he graduates. How long will your father be able to hold onto power when the people of Avalon see the great Boy-Who-Lived stand before his ancestral home and declare in a strong voice, 'I have returned'!"
Cho threw out her arms, as if demonstrating the moment.
"And don't forget that Sirius Black was his godfather! Who knows what's in that will? The Parkinsons only have their Gym because the Blacks are gone, but what if the Black Family Gym was willed to little Harry? What if Sirius Black named him his heir? With all of the Valhalla region at his back, you'll barely be able to open your doors before you're thrown out of your Gym and the Potters return."
"Is that respect I hear in your voice?" Draco shot back.
"Pragmatism. I might not like Potter, but marriages have been built on less love than that. And hormones have a funny way of making little boys forget past sins. Imagine that, Draco. The Potters returned, and me Lady Potter, the power behind the throne."
Harry shuddered at that, repulsed, and Luna reached over to hand him a bucket.
"You act like you're going to be around long enough to bed Potter's scrawny frame." Draco bit out.
"He does remember you're twelve, right?" Ginny whispered, twisting from her spot on James' shoulder.
"Is that a threat, Malfoy?"
"Not at all." He assured, sickly-sweet. "Merely pointing out that students are being petrified every week, and you might be next."
Once Draco left to retrieve his Servine and Cho disappeared back into the hall, everyone finally took a deep breath.
"Well…" Hermione started. "That was rather…"
"Nargles." Luna offered, plopping back onto her feet.
"Nargles." Neville agreed as Ron and Ginny were also put down.
"Did anyone else get the feeling that Draco knows a bit more about the Heir of Slytherin than he's letting on?" Ron voiced, and Hillevi glanced up at James as the thought stuck. "We need proof, though."
Seven pairs of eyes turned to stare at him.
"What?"
"You're being sane and rational." Hermione replied. "It's weird."
"Ha, ha, ha."
Ginny began to smile, an epiphany lighting up her eyes as she turned to Harry.
"I think I have an idea. Can I borrow the Marauder's App?"
