Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Pokémon. The only thing I do own is the story idea.

"Talk"

'Think'

"Telepathy"

Pokémon attack

AN: Thanks for all the reviews and everything. I mean, really. I got some truly wonderful reviews from people that practically brought tears to my eyes! Thank you so much! Here is the long awaited chapter! I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 11

It took Zoroark a good week or so to traverse the area from where she met her little Zorua, to the tall, lopsided abode in which he now dwelled. She was tired, but pleased and the illusion of a rather sleek ginger cat skirting along the edges of the property didn't seem to raise any red flags. This was good, considering she wasn't sure if she had the strength to keep up a larger illusion. Small illusions were easier to hold for long periods of time and apparently, after seeing a few other stay cats, it wasn't exactly unusual for cats to wander the acres the red-headed family owned. As the day progressed and clouds billowed along the horizon, she allowed herself to slip close to a window, a slip of a smile on her muzzle as she watched the family within.

Already she could tell that he was up to no good and causing trouble. The pranks and laughter practically bubbled out of the house and she ached to join in. To be the reason the boy laughed and felt safe, but she kept her distance. The humans of this world were vastly different from the ones she remembered and even they would probably get suspicious if a cat simply wandered in like it belonged when it so surely didn't. Sighing, she felt the first few drops of rain fall to the land and slipped away. She had found a nice little dwelling, an abandoned animal den of some sort, which would keep her warm and dry through the night. Arceus willing, she'd be able to speak with Zorua…Harry, later.

But she wasn't. Lucky that was, as night had fallen without the little one coming outside and she was loathed to wake the boy up. A proper amount of sleep was incredibly important to a growing Pokémon and she figured the same went for any type of young. So she waited, curled up beneath the roots of a fallen tree and cursing her luck even more as the heavens opened up and poured down rain. She curled into a ball, her thick mane covering her more as it protected her from the downpour a little. Huffing softly, she nuzzled the fur over her face and tried to rest.

Morning arrived with cacophonous explosions and yelling, the sound of which had her vaulting from her sleeping place and tumbling through the trees in a frightened daze. She caught herself just in time and kept herself hidden, her heart slowing back down to its proper pace once she saw that nothing was amiss and the large explosions were from fireworks. She marveled at them for a moment, before turning her attention to the humans….and Harry! She eyed him critically, noting that while damp he appeared fine and in good health. Her heart jumped to her throat as he looked around, eyes landing on her and making to move closer, only to be thwarted by the matriarchal red-head.

The load of children, and her Harry, were ushered into…were those cars?! Zoroark tilted her head at the thought of them making a come-back, before shaking her head and darting out of the forest and onto the hood of one of the yellow and black machines. What happened next was pure luck mixed in with mild panic as the cars went faster than she thought possible and the rain drenched her poor form. After the cars came the train, which she now fully detested. The only thing that saved her was the cloak she had…borrowed, from a woman's trunk and huddled beneath to stave off the worst of the rain and cold.

Zoroark was ever so pleased when the train came to a stop. She couldn't get off the blasted thing fast enough and quickly took the illusion from before, so that if Harry did spot her, he knew she was watching. And he did! His eyes found her's quickly and her heart soared. She longed to reach out for him, but a shout from another person asking her, 'what she was doing so close to the station this late' she was quick to slip into the shadows. She ran, stretching her legs gratefully after the hours she'd spent curled up in a ball and slipped into the forest. With any luck, her Harry was simply going into the large castle she spotted during her run. She'd be seeing him soon enough….Arceus willing.

Sighing, she slowed her run down and started looking for a proper, more permanent place to rest her head. The night seemed like it would be a long one and she needed to get out of the storm before she became ill. Spotting a den that looked thoroughly deserted, she slipped in and shook off the water, exhaustion hitting her quickly now that she was drying out. 'Come morning, I'll take a bigger look at the area,' she vowed as she got herself comfortable. Her stomach grumbled, but her eyes slipped closed and she was asleep. She'd deal with her stomach in the morning.

As the sorting and feast commenced, and Harry and Ron poured water out of their shoes thanks to Peeves, Harry couldn't help but feel like something was…off. It wasn't anything obvious. The décor looked the same, the ceiling still showed the sky outside and the tables were placed where they were every year. The new students were sorted quickly, Creevy was clingy as usual and the Ron stuffed his face like usual, but he still felt like something was off. Not wrong, per se, but still off and it niggled at his senses, thoroughly distracting him from his meal.

It could have just been the horrifying fact that Colin had a brother who appeared to be just like him, but after thinking that over, Harry felt that that wasn't it at all. There was a teacher missing, The Defense Against the Dark Arts one, to be exact, but that really wasn't it either. Sighing, Harry poked at his meal in distaste, his appetite thoroughly gone.

"You okay 'arry?" Ron asked, mouth filled with food. Much of it was spit at them, chunks of half chewed chicken spewing out on the table.

"Nah, I'm…good," Harry replied, wiping away the spittle. Ron gave him an apologetic look and swallowed quickly.

"You sure Harry? You've been a big off since we got off the train," Hermione pointed out, giving Ron a scathing look for the spewed food. She herself wasn't eating, at least not since she found out the food was made through 'slave-labor' via house-elves.

"Yeah! And you didn't even eat Treacle Tart, Harry. Isn't that your favorite?" Ron added, looking slightly concerned, but more worried about the giant dish of chocolate gateau coming towards him that was slowly, but surely, dwindling.

"I'm fine guys, really. Just not that hungry I guess. Shouldn't have eaten all those pumpkin pasties," he said, chuckling a little.

That seemed to mollify them a bit, though Hermione didn't seem to believe it fully. Thankfully, Dumbledore chose that moment to wrap up the feast, the last crumbs of the desserts vanishing off the golden plates, leaving them sparkling clean. The Headmaster stood and the chattering students fell quiet at once, leaving only the pounding wind and rain to be heard.

"So!" the headmaster started, smiling at them quite happily. "Now that we are all nice and full, a few things must be brought to light. I ask for your attention, just briefly, please," Dumbledore said, his eyes glancing from one end of the great hall to the other.

Yawning, Harry tried his best to pay attention, but after a minute of it being just the usual beginning of the year speech, he found himself tuning the Headmaster out a bit, only paying attention to nod where it seemed appropriate.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that Quidditch will be canceled this year."

"What!" Harry yelled, though even then his voice was lost amongst the other shouts and protests. Looking around, Harry spotted Fred and George, as well as the other Quidditch players from Gryffindor. They all looked outraged, especially Fred who made quite the rude gesture towards the teaching staff. Harry only hoped that no one else had spotted it, although by the thinning in Hermione's lips, he was pretty sure others had.

Dumbledore let the outraged shouts continue for a moment, before raising his hands. Students once more fell silent, though most of them looked mutinous over the loss of their beloved sport. "This is due," Dumbledore said, "to an event that will be starting up in October, and continuing for the rest of the year. This event will take up much of the teachers' time and energy—but I am sure you will all enjoy it greatly. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

A deafening crash interrupted the Headmaster as thunder rumbled darkly from the heavens and the Great Hall door banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning heavily upon a wooden cane and completely covered by a thick cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled towards the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning. The hood was lowered, and a face covered in scars and surrounded by a long mane of shaggy dark gray hair appeared before all, or at least before Harry. Harry had a feeling that not everybody could see into the shadowed front step as well as he could.

Harry found himself biting his lip, a strange hateful feeling rising in his chest. This man, felt...wrong. All wrong and twisted and he had trouble focusing his eyes on the man as he moved, like what he saw before him was covered in thick shadows. Growing warmth in his hands had him looking down and having a mild freak out as he saw his hands were covered in a dark purple miasma that slowly collected to form a bulbish ball. A quick shake of his hands had the ball dissipating like smoke. Harry swallowed thickly, his mind racing over what he had just done, before the sound of the man moving distracted him and had him looking up again.

A dull thunk came from the man ever other step as he moved towards the staff table. Another fork of lightning illuminated the hall, causing Hermione to gasp, her lips mouthing the words, 'his scars!' which had Harry realizing that his earlier thought was right. Nobody had seen them when the man had first lowered the hood. Although, the eyes he hadn't noticed before. One small and beady, the other large and wide open, a brilliant electric blue that swiveled everywhere ceaselessly, unblinkingly and in every direction.

The man continued and only stopped once he reached Dumbledore. They spoke briefly, Dumbledore smiling a little, the shadow-cloaked man replying back with a bland expression. The Headmaster nodded and gestured towards the empty chair at his side. In silence, the man sat down, pulling a plate of food towards him and started to eat.

Clearing his throat, Dumbledore stood straight again and smiled at the students, as though to ease them a little. "May I introduce our new Defense teacher," Dumbledore said brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

While it was customary for new staff members to be greeted with applause, none of the staff or students clapped, except Dumbledore and Hagrid. The sound echoed dismally through the hall and they stopped fairly quickly.

"Moody?" Harry muttered next to Ron, his eyes narrowed a bit at the man. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one from this morning?"

"Must be. Don't know many people named Moody," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"But what happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Harry muttered back. Ron seemed stupefied in awed silence, watching Moody with barely disguised fascination.

The man called Moody seemed rather indifferent to the less-than-warm welcome and ignored the pitcher of pumpkin juice, or whatever liquid was inside the pitcher, in favor of a hip flask pulled from his traveling cloak. Moody drank long and deep from the flask and Harry barely stifled a gasp as the shadows surrounding Moody's form seemed to…sink into him, dissipating and leaving him clearer to see in Harry vision. Harry glanced away quickly, though not before noticing the dull thunks heard in the hall were thanks to the man's carved wooden leg.

The silence thickened in the room, before Dumbledore cleared his throat and motioned for people to once more pay attention. "As I was saying," he said as he smiled once more down at his students, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months. It is my very great pleasure to announce to you all that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year!"

"You're JOKING!" someone shouted.

The tension that filled the hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed and even Harry had to admit that the slight queasy feeling in his stomach lessened with the joined laughter in the hall.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," He said, "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about—well never you mind, no." Dumbledore said. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament," he mused, before going on to explain a short explanation. Harry found the whole thing to sound wonderfully exciting, though the Death toll that caused the whole thing to be cancelled made the queasy feeling settle back in his gut again. Other wizarding schools called Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would be arriving in October and then some sort of selection process would happen where three students, one from each school, would be chosen as champions for their school and compete for glory and a thousand Galleons.

Harry sighed, shaking his head. Risking death just for a little fame and some Galleons seemed like too much. Although Fred and George looked enthusiastic about such prospects and they weren't the only ones visualizing themselves as Hogwarts Champions. At every house table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "the Heads of the each school, along with the Ministry, have agreed to impose an age restriction on the contenders this year. Only students who are of age—that is to say, seventeen years or older—will be allowed to put forth their names for consideration."

The shouts that followed rivaled those from when people heard that there would be no Quidditch for the whole year. Dumbledore merely spoke louder, detailing why the age restriction was necessary and when the delegations from the other school would arrive before ushering them all to bed.

Harry stood, yawning and stretching as he ignored the general outrage his fellow students felt over the age restriction. Fred and George both seemed rather pissed, due to the fact that they'd be turning seventeen in April.

"Well, they're not stopping me," Fred said stubbornly. "The champion'll get to do all sorts of things you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," Ron said, a faraway look in his eyes, "Imagine what you could do with all that money."

But Harry found himself caring very little for the whole ordeal. Truly, all he wanted was for the off feeling to go away and for Mad-eye to be a little less creepy and maybe a bed. A nice, warm bed and a few hours of sleep. Running hands through his hair, he ruffled the strands and followed George, Fred, Ron and Hermione out of the Great Hall, all while Fred and George conspired to beat the impartial judges with aging potions.

Harry didn't have the heart to tell them that it was unlikely it would work, but wisely kept silent. Hermione's nagging was doing almost nothing towards the twins and their stubborn ideals to be Champions and he really didn't want to get on their bad side.

"Oh, Fred, George, I've got some of your stuff in my trunk. You guys want that now?" Harry asked.

Both boys blinked, before shaking their heads, "Nah, hold onto it until morning Harry. We'll grab it then," Fred said, before turning back to George, who had just stated the password 'Balderdash' to the portrait.

Nodding, Harry stepped into the common room, a crackling fire place warmed the area and the room was filled with usual squashy chairs and tables. Bidding Hermione goodnight, Ron and Harry, along with Neville who had joined them on the way towards the common room, climbed the circular stairs towards their dorm. Two other boys, Seamus and Dean, had already arrived and were climbing into bed. Harry gave them a nod and fell into bed himself, before grumbling and moving to change into sleeping clothes.

"I might go for it, you know," Ron said sleepily though the darkness, "if Fred and George find out how to…you know?"

"I guess," Harry replied, rolling over in bed and pulling the covers up. The thought of the tournament didn't seem like a wonderful idea to Harry. Personally, he'd be happy just watching the thing. Before third year, maybe he'd like that, but what happened at the World Cup merely made things like this seem better in one's head. Unlike Ron, who was surely dreaming of the cup and the adoration of the school, Harry's dreams were of open meadows and the adoration of one being with black and red fur.

As Harry slept a very strange thing happened in the castle that none of the staff, not even Dumbledore, took note of. The castle stopped. The stairs ground to a halt, the portraits, as one, fell into slumber and even the ghosts found themselves drifting off into something similar to sleep. The long lines of armor had their heads clanking to their chest and the whole castle seemed to hum gently. A haunting melody played in the air, neither cruel nor terrifying, but there and echoing through the castle as though sung by its very walls. This was true. As the whole place stopped, small shapes pulled themselves out of the stonework.

The beings had strange shapes, looking roughly like letters and bearing a single, large eye. The haunting melody quickened and the Unown flew through the air, their forms billowed and fish-eyed to any who saw, which was none, considering any who heard their melody fell unconscious. They reached the tower where Harry lay and swam around his form, dark tendril reaching out to touch the boy only to pull back.

They spun faster, their melody reaching its peak, before a soft voice drifted into the moonlit dorm. "You'll wake the boy if you're not careful."

The Unown froze, then spun around, their forms spelled out a lengthy sentence.

"Yes, that may be, but he needs his rest and he's not ready for what you lot want to do. He cannot play today."

The Unown slowed down, their melody drifting to a mere whisper. Slowly, they formed another word, their eyes pleading.

Soft laughter echoed through the room and the glimmering form of a Pokémon appeared. Most of the body itself was blue and rather swan-like, the underside and chin a pale yellow color. The eyes were pink, with a dark round pink tuft on her head that ended in a beak-like snout. Crescent shape ornaments curled gracefully on either side of her head and glowing, pink, ring-like wings fluttered gently on her side and back, with paw like protrusions resting gently on her chest.

"No matter what you say, the boy needs his rest. You're arguing with the wrong Pokémon if you wish to wake him up," Cresselia stated a demure smile on her snout.

The letter Pokémon seemed to slump, their forms drifting to the floor as one.

"Now, now. I'm sure, given time, the boy will play with you. Now go. I won't have you disturbing his dreams."

A soft sound, akin to a sigh, echoed about the room before the Unown slid back into the cracks in the wall, taking their soft melody with them. Cresselia herself seemed to sag a bit, her head lowering as she stared at the strange child that had woken them all up. She had heard the rumors, Mew even vouched for the strange things, but to her…he didn't look like a Zorua.

A shifting shadow brought her attention back up and Cresselia glared, "You best be leaving too, Darkrai. Before we both do something we regret."

Darkrai stayed in the shadows, but raised his arms to show he understood. His form flickered, then swiftly disappeared.

"You'll be bringing a lot of powerful Pokémon to you Harry. I only wish you don't get overwhelmed," Cresselia murmured softly once the shadow-like Pokémon had disappeared. She watched the boy for awhile and smiled faintly. "I wish you good dreams, little one."

Shaking her head, she twitched her wings and drifted off. She had a world to look over, considering how long ago it had been since she had last graced the Earth with her presence.

AN: This isn't beta-ed, so any mistakes are my own. Thank you all for being very patient with me on this chapter coming out. I love you all! The next chapter will be a LOT more interesting. Honestly, I tried to get this one out earlier, but it hated being written. Anyway, read and review please!