I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.

Chapter Twenty Two: Change of Heart and Mind

The gardens of Malfoy Manor were beautiful in the wintertime, and Moon couldn't begin to imagine what they must look like in summer.

The young champion had been given 'permission' to wander around the estate (although it was worded rather differently), as long as she didn't try to cross the furthest hedges marking the end of the property. Seeing as the estate was larger than some of the islands she had seen while travelling over Hoenn with May, this didn't bother her too much.

It must have snowed overnight, as there was an inch-thick blanket of the stuff covering the old snow and filling in the holes that had been treaded through the previous layer. Her boots left deep imprints as she walked around the gardens. The fountains and statues must have been enchanted to repel snow, as there was none to be found on top of the ornaments.

Moon stopped in front of a regal fountain and stared. A dragon statue—a Hebridean Black, if she remembered correctly—stood proudly on the pedestal with its mouth open in a roar. She could imagine that, during the summer months, water would be pouring from its mouth into the fountain. It was like the Gyarados fountains she was used to, except the dragons wizards were used to only spewed fire.

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

She looked over her shoulder to see Draco standing a few feet away. She hadn't heard him approach since she was so focused on the fountain.

"The dragons here only breathe fire, correct?" she asked, gesturing her head towards the fountain.

"What else would they do?" Draco replied. "It's not like they could shoot water or acid from their mouths."

"Not your dragons," Moon said wistfully. "I've seen dragons do so much more than simply spit fire."

"Really? Such as?"

"We have dragons that breathe ice instead of fire. Dragons that control lightning. Dragons that watch over time and space and the sky and the balance of the universe. Dragons that a person could keep as a pet if they so wished."

"Hopefully no one would keep a dragon that guarded the balance of the universe as a pet," Draco said tiredly.

"Not as a pet, no," Moon said, with images of Dawn and Giratina flickering through her mind. "There are small and docile dragons that people like to train. Not exactly common practice, but not entirely rare."

Draco nodded tightly. "Sounds… interesting."

Moon frowned and tilted her head. Draco had been willing to talk to her on the train ride, and even during dinner, but it had only been to give her information about the manor and to question her on what happened in her world. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume that the Slytherin was only talking to her on his parents' orders.

"You're still mad at me," she stated.

"You said I wasn't worth respecting," he replied, irritation seeping into his voice.

"I said you hadn't done anything worth respecting," she said. "There's a difference."

"And that would be?"

She smirked. "I suppose by now you've figured I'm not a pure-blood supremacist. I don't think that Muggle-borns are lower than dirt, and that opinion is gradually growing more popular. Less and less half-bloods are turning to the idea of blood purity."

"The opinions of blood-traitors aren't worth their weight in garbage," he said. "You haven't been around long enough to know why."

"'Magic, like every other trait, can only be passed down from parent to child. For a magical child to be born to two Muggles parents means that their ability comes from a mutation. It then follows that the magical ability of Muggle-borns is inferior to that of pure-bloods, and possibly toxic to a family's bloodline,' Ivor Yaxley, The Essence of Magic, 1921," Moon recited.

"… Okay, maybe you do know a thing or two."

"What Yaxley neglected to mention, or was ignorant of, was that traits are not limited to those that the parents of a child display. Two parents with brown eyes can have a blue-eyed child if they both carry the gene. Many, many new books on the subject agree that Muggle-borns are the descendants of squibs. Squibs, on the other hand, are either the result of marrying Muggles—an old idea that has been losing credibility—or a result of too many relatives marrying and having children."

"So what? Do you honestly believe that a person descended from several generations of wizards is less capable than some kid who has no notable magical heritage?"

"Are you saying that Goyle is a shining example of wizards everywhere and is far more skilled than Granger will ever be?"

Draco's mouth fell open like a Magikarp's. He regained his composure a second later, although he had an affronted look.

"Those are just two examples!"

"True enough. I'm sure that, throughout history, there have been plenty of Muggle-borns who have been terrible witches and wizards. Just like there have been awful pure-bloods. And there are Muggle-borns who excel at magic, and extraordinarily talented pure-bloods."

"What's your point here?"

"That, without any solid proof as to why being a pure-blood is inherently better than being a half-blood or a Muggle-born, I'm forced to judge people on their actions and abilities alone."

Draco stood still for a moment, as though he was surprised by her answer. A smirk crossed his face.

"Doesn't always work that way," he said smartly. "Look at you, for instance; an exchange student with good grades and no loyalty to a house. Turns out you're basically the Minister of your own country in an alternate universe."

"Can I not be both?" Moon said. "You're one of the best students in our year and a competent Quidditch player, and you're also the heir to an enormous fortune. Both are correct, and they do not negate each other."

"But it's not like you can truly judge a person based on partial information."

"Except in the case of blood status?"

His face turned considerably redder, although that might have partially been due to the cold weather.

"My point is that all people deserve some basic level of respect, and anything above that has to be earned," Moon continued. "When judging a person, do so using the most relevant information possible. And yes, I'll admit, sometimes that does include blood status or upbringing. Just don't let that be the only thing you use to judge how worthy a person is."

A flicker of a smile crossed the Slytherin's face. "I was wrong earlier."

"About what?"

"You're not a Gryffindor. You're a Ravenclaw."

That got a reaction from Moon. The girl sputtered, her own face heating up as she failed to articulate anything.

"Don't even deny it," Draco said with a grin. "You're intelligent, sure, and you're willing to be cunning when you need to be, but you value hard evidence and logic over everything else."

"Since when are you the Sorting Hat?"

The blond teenager laughed, and Moon couldn't help it anymore. She scooped up a handful of snow and threw it at the Slytherin. It hit him directly in the chest, startling him. He looked up at her, completely confused.

"Don't tell me you've never had a snowball fight before," Moon said. Draco shook his head.

It seemed like a thing that everyone would have experienced by the time they were thirteen, but it wasn't hard to imagine that Draco—or any of the high-society pure-blood children for that matter—never got into a snowball fight. It was a bit of childish fun that children like Draco probably never got the luxury of enjoying.

"Pick up some snow and throw it at my head."

"What?" Draco said.

"Pick up some snow and throw it at my head," Moon repeated. Draco leaned over and grabbed just enough snow to cover his palm, crushed it into a cylinder shape, and tossed it at her head. It was off-centre, grazing her ear rather than hitting her face.

"Not bad," she remarked. "Don't throw it so lightly, though. You're not going to hurt me with a handful of snow no matter how hard you throw it, so don't hold back."

"Why… what's the point of this?" he asked warily.

"To have fun," Moon said.

"Isn't… isn't a snowball fight a bit childish?"

Her eye twitched involuntarily. "It's supposed to be fun. How is that childish?"

"It's something that kids do."

"According to your British standards, we are kids."

"Shouldn't we be more mature than that?" he said. "Surely you'd understand why we can't act like children. No one would take us seriously."

"Draco, that is literally the worst excuse I've heard for anything."

The blond teenager took a step back, looking completely confused. "What?"

"Adults who would look down on a kid for having fun would look down on a kid regardless of how mature they were. If you act like you don't care about what other people think, if you show that you're above it, people are forced to take you seriously. And having fun generally pays off more than being 'mature' all the time."

Confusion flitted across Draco's face. Moon knew that it was a weird idea—one that wasn't fully recognized in her own world, much less Britain—and she hadn't expected Draco to believe it straight away. She turned her attention back to the fountain.

Only to have a snowball nail her in her ear.

She stumbled for a brief moment, before scooping up a handful of snow and throwing it back. It hit Draco in the stomach, eliciting a laugh from him. For a moment, she could see his grey eyes dart up to the windows of the mansion, as though he was looking to see if his parents were watching. Another ball of snow being thrown at her confirmed that they were not.

There weren't many days between Moon's arrival and the ball. She managed to talk with Draco the most out of the three Malfoys outside of meals. Their conversations never strayed back into the idea of blood purity. Although Moon knew that she hadn't fully changed the young Malfoy's mind, she had convinced him enough to not tell his parents.

Lucius and Narcissa weren't overly keen on seeking her out during the day, which Moon found odd. They certainly didn't fear prying into her life during meals. Lucius was interested in the government, specifically the other champions and how they did their jobs, while Narcissa tried to learn more about the events and parties Moon had attended as a champion. But however much they sought out the information when they were gathered together, they never bothered to talk to her anywhere else. They hadn't even bothered to ask the house elves to tail her. Or they had, and the house elves were just fantastic at hiding.

Draco, on the other hand, only talked to her when they were away from his parents. Aside from a few comments, he mostly stuck to talking with her when his parents weren't there to silence him with a look. It was nice, in a way, to have another person to talk to that wasn't trying to get her to reveal every minute detail about her life. Even if there was a bit of tension regarding their confrontation at Hogwarts, they had been able to move away from it for the time being.

He was also proving to be a useful source of information to Moon.

"What's the Christmas Gala like?" she asked, not looking away from the book she was perusing. The two were lounging in the manor's library, pretending to be interested in their homework but not paying attention.

"Like every other party or event, just at Christmas," he replied as he flipped a page in his own book. "The adults talk about their lives, the kids are expected to be polite and charming, there's music, dancing, and at least one scandal."

"Do you have fun?"

"Not… not overly. These events are tailored for the adults. I'm just expected to be there."

"So your job is to stand there and look pretty?"

He gave a short laugh. "Essentially. I doubt that's what you'll be doing, though."

"Excuse you, I intend to look very pretty tomorrow night."

"I imagine, as my mother intends to be in charge of your outfit," he said with note of amusement. "But you're a special guest. My father heard about you through some Ministry gossip. Those other champions had apparently been very forthcoming when it came to giving out information. I wouldn't be surprised if more than half of the pure-blood families knew who you were by now."

Moon frowned. "So, what? They're going to seek me out for conversation?"

"They'll want to see how well-mannered you are. Some families still despise half-bloods on principle, but most are willing to overlook that if they think you are suitable for an alliance."

"Like I'm supposed to be their gateway into my world's political sphere?"

"More or less," Draco answered, his voice dropping off near the end. Moon glanced at the Slytherin to see that the tips of his ears had gone red, along with his cheeks.

"What's the issue?" she asked. Draco's face only became redder.

"There's no issue."

"Then why are you so flustered?"

"Look," he said, shutting his book a bit too hard, "there's going to be people trying to hound you during the party. Some want to gain a foothold in your government. Some want to see if they can expand their businesses. Some want to acquire pokémon of their own. For any of them to know if these things are possible, they'll have to talk to you first, because as talkative as your colleagues are, they're still focused on building a bridge between our worlds. If everyone was able to question them directly, there'd be a line-up reaching the Ministry's lobby, and the people working with them wouldn't be too pleased with such a delay."

"So this invitation was just so people could increase their own wealth. Got it."

Draco huffed. "That's not true. Not entirely."

"Then what else was it for?"

His head tilted back until he was staring at the ceiling. "Does it really matter if you know or not?"

"Well, considering that it's my life, yes."

The blond boy sighed. "Some people—some—are interested in finding out your… lineage."

"Oh."

Oh.

"Guess that's everything to some people," Moon said irritably. "Not skill, or money, or connections, just who your parents are."

"Why is it so big of a deal for you?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely curious. "You're fine with claiming you're a half-blood, which isn't too suspicious. But Blakesley isn't a wizard family name, so some people are curious as to what family you're related to."

"If the circumstances were different, I'd tell you directly," she admitted. "I go by my mother's name since my parents divorced. My father is the wizard."

"So you'd be able to lay a claim to your family's vault?"

"That's one of the first things the goblins at Gringotts told me. I didn't bother to retrieve any money, though, I just sold some stuff. I doubt there'd have been much in there anyway."

"Why is that?"

"I still have relatives here. Or at least, a relative."

He straightened up in his chair. "You have a family member here?"

"Yeah, although they're not aware of anything. I don't like the idea of drawing attention from them."

"What, are they being hunted down by Aurors?"

She gave the Slytherin an incredulous look. "That's your first idea?"

"Well, unless you're related to Sirius Black or something equally ridiculous, I can't imagine why you'd want to keep it a secret."

"There could be plenty of reasons I don't want my relative to know that we're related, and I assure you that that isn't one of them."

Draco laughed, but didn't press any further. It wasn't until later that night, after she had curled up near the fireplace, that she thought of what he had said.

If there had been a way to travel between the two worlds, if there hadn't been a huge war to devastate Britain, what would her life have been like? Would she have learned about magic sooner? Would her father have introduced her to her brother? Would her brother have introduced her to his friends, to Harry? Would she have gone to Hogwarts when she was eleven, getting sorted like everyone else?

Or would everything have been the same in the end?

Her father was not one to discuss things that he didn't want to talk about. The fact that he never said one word to Moon about his previous life and family was proof of that. She could have very well been ignorant of magic for her entire life had she not gone after those moronic grunts. If the war hadn't happened, everyone's lives would have been better, but she would have been unaware of it.

As much as Moon wanted to go home, she was glad she had the chance to learn about magic. It had been one of the greatest things in her short life, and she wouldn't want to change it even if she could.

Seems like a good place to leave it.