This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

Little else was said at the meeting and Harry was soon sent to bed with some answers, but a lot more questions too. How many Death Eaters had Voldemort managed to recruit? Why were the Ministry stubbornly refusing to see reason? And just what was Voldemort after that was so important that it had cost him dearly during the last war?

He, of course, shared all of his newfound information with Ron and Hermione, Ginny insisting on hearing it too with the threat that she'd have her Haunter follow him around if he refused. They were equally as quizzical about what Harry had heard, especially focused on the weapon Voldemort was after. Apparently they'd heard a lot about guard duty over their time at Grimmauld Place but they'd never had confirmation about what exactly was being guarded. Now they knew.

Life at Grimmauld Place settled into a rhythm, and one of little excitement at that. Soon Harry, Ron, Hermione and the rest of the school age residents of the house had succeeded in removing the last of the mould from the drawing room, leaving nothing but the upper floors and that intimidating library to work through.

In that time there had been several Legion meetings, of which Harry was invited to none.

The monotony was only broken a few days into Harry's stay very late in the day.

Having slaved away to try and make some dent into the contents of the Black family library Harry had enjoyed Mrs Weasley's fine cooking before being kicked out of the kitchen for yet another Legion meeting, retreating upstairs to the newly cleaned drawing room with Ron and Hermione to work on an equally daunting task; homework.

"The evolution of Burmy is heavily influenced by the location in which said Pokémon evolves," Ron read aloud. "The cloak of Wormadam can take the properties of plant life, sand, or in more urban settings, trash." He looked up. "Sorry, what did that just say?"

"Burmy takes in elements of its surroundings through evolution in order to make up its greater body mass," Hermione lectured. "In the case of evolution on natural greenery the Pokémon will build a cloak based on leafy vines that will surround its body while if the evolution were to occur on a beach or desert the Pokémon would use electromagnetism to hold together the grains of sand for a similar effect."

Ron gave her an annoyed look. "That's not what I meant," he told her. "I get that. But how the hell do you get a Pokémon made of trash?"

"You clearly have forgotten about Trubbish, Mr Weasley," Harry, Ron and Hermione jumped as the strict voice cut through the room and they turned as one to the door. Professor McGonagall, Physiology Professor and setter of this particular piece of homework, was standing in the doorway, looking surprisingly in place with the old fashioned decor of the House of Black.

"Eh, yeah," Ron said stupidly, caught of guard. "Guess I forgot about Trubbish." McGonagall nodded her head briskly.

"I must say I am glad to see you are all working hard," she told them. "Your A.P.E examinations are of tremendous importance, both to the subjects you wish to take on into sixth year as well as in what you wish to pursue as a career, though I don't imagine any of you have put any thought into that." Harry, Ron and Hermione shook their heads.

"In any case I must not dally about," McGonagall spoke. "I must return to Hogwarts immediately. Before I go I just wish to drop off a few letters." She strode a step forward and pulled a small stack of envelopes from behind her back, placing them on the table. They made a 'clack' when they connected with the weathered wood.

"I will see you at Hogwarts," McGonagall said, though her students were no longer listening. As the Physiology Professor strode from the room Harry, Ron and Hermione gathered around the table, looking at the small pile of letters.

"Our Hogwarts letters," Hermione said, her voice a hushed whisper.

"And prefect badges too," Ron commented. "I wasn't the only one who heard that, right?" Harry and Hermione nodded together.

"Your one is on the top," Harry said, looking over to Hermione. She let out a small squeak, extending a hand cautiously forward, and lifted the envelope by the corner. Immediately they could tell the weight was not quite right and Hermione slit open the envelope and tipped it over, a small shiny prefect badge falling into her hand.

"Oh my," she whispered. She looked overcome. "I'm prefect." Despite their own nervousness Harry and Ron shared a grin.

"Congratulations Hermione," Harry told her.

"Knew it all along, of course," Ron reminded her, laughing slightly at the mere possibility Dumbledore would have chosen anyone but Hermione. "Alright Harry, now you open yours."

Nervous, despite the fact he wasn't even sure he wanted to be prefect, Harry lifted up the envelope with his name. It was tellingly light and as he opened it only paper fell out.

"Ah well," Ron said, giving Harry a supportive shrug. "What can you do? Guess Dean must have been chosen," and he reached forward to tip his own letter out onto the table.

A loud 'clack' sounded in the sudden stillness of the room. Everybody froze.

"Eh," Ron said awkwardly, looking down at the small badge that sat innocently on the weathered wooden surface. "You sure you got the right letter, Harry?"

Harry checked his letter, and then the envelope he'd taken it from. Both were quite clearly addressed to Mr H Potter.

"I think it's for you," Harry told him, turning to his friend. Ron was frozen in place.

"No," he said, shaking his head in denial. "No, that's not for me. It's a mistake, that's all. Bet McGonagall accidentally slipped it into my letter instead, she's getting old you know. No way they'd make me a prefect." But Hermione had reached forward and picked up the letter than came with it.

"Dear Mr Weasley," she read. "We are delighted to inform you that you have been selected as prefect for the upcoming academic year." Ron paled. "This decision was made after considering your time at Hogwarts and what we can expect to see from you over the coming year."

Hermione put down the letter. She leaned forward and picked up Ron's prefect badge, shining in the light from the fireplace, and inspected it carefully. "Interesting."

Harry couldn't help himself. He laughed.

"What's all this, what's all this," Fred and George entered the room, drawn in perhaps by Harry's laughter, and upon seeing his twin brothers Ron put his head in his hands and groaned.

"We just saw McGonagall a few moments ago," George said conversationally. "Handing out our Hogwarts letters. I see you've got your prefect badge, Hermione."

"Two of them," added Fred, spotting the one that already rested in her lap. "What, have you been appointed some sort of mega prefect?" The twins sniggered. Hermione flushed.

"No I have not," she said crossly, leaning forward to place Ron's prefect badge back on the table. "That is not my prefect badge."

Sobering up the twins turned their attention to Harry, looking disappointed.

"Harrykins, really?" George questioned. Harry shook his head.

"You want to look over there," he chuckled, jerking his head to his left, and as one the twins turned to their youngest brother, expressions of pure horror on their face.

"No."

Ron shook his head slightly from where it rested in his hands, unable or unwilling to face them.

"No," they repeated, looking to Harry and Hermione and then to each other. Their faces were white.

"No!"

But despite their protestations it didn't stop the fact that it was true. Ron Weasley had, for whatever reason, been chosen to be Gryffindor prefect. And it seemed few people shared the twins' sentiments.

When Mrs Weasley found out she'd practically burst into tears, throwing her arms around her youngest son as Mr Weasley looked on proudly. Remus congratulated him and even Percy took the time to stop over at headquarters to state how proud he was, to Ron's complete despair.

A party was planned, a celebration of Hermione and Ron being chosen as prefects, but it was held off until the weekend, after the children had a chance to visit Diagon Alley and get their school supplies.

This process was a lot more complicated than expected.

"Really Mad-Eye, don't you think this is a bit much?" Mrs Weasley asked on the Saturday morning they'd decided to head out to the alley. They were down in the kitchen, most of the children on their way down from their morning routines, and Mad-Eye was being especially paranoid.

"We don't move out until Shacklebolt and Tonks have scouted out the place," he barked back. "There are people out to kill Potter and so I'll not be risking anything." Mrs Weasley looked stricken.

"Harry, why don't you go upstairs and see how everyone's getting on," she said kindly. Harry wasn't fooled, she just wanted him out the room when subjects such as these came up.

But Harry didn't press the point. There was nothing to be gained, after all, from watching Moody and Mrs Weasley argue, again, about the security measures required for their trip to the Pokémon high street.

So he headed upstairs, having to be on his toes to avoid Fred and George as they came whizzing down the banister and sharing an exasperated look with Hermione as she passed before entering his bedroom.

Ron was still there, as Harry had expected, though he looked ready. He was sitting on his bed, back to Harry so that he hadn't yet noticed his arrival, and he was turning the prefect badge he'd received over in his hands.

"You're not thinking of wearing that?" Harry said, more sharply than he'd intended to. Ron jumped. "Fred and George would mock you senseless."

Ron gave him a queasy look. "Good point," he muttered, slipping the badge safely into the top drawer of his bedside cabinet. "Are we ready to go?" he asked, straightening up.

Harry nodded, walking round to his bed and fetching his money from his trunk.

"We're all downstairs," Harry told him. "All except Ginny, at least. We're just waiting for Mad-Eye to give us the okay." Ron nodded. He seemed really nervous.

Back downstairs they found they now had a full contingent of Weasleys, and they were all ready to go.

The plan was simple in theory, but logistically it was a nightmare. Moody's paranoia knew no bounds and what should have been a simple drive through London to where the Leaky Cauldron sat, gateway to Pokémon London, instead became a round about trip that, at least to Harry, seemed way over the top.

The first part of the plan was a five minute walk to an abandoned plot of land, where Mr Weasley's minivan was parked unobtrusively out of the way. The second part included a drive around what seemed to be at least half of London, a route clearly planned to minute detail by Moody who barked instructions at every intersection and growled at any hint of a complaint from the back. The Minivan was eventually parked at the top of a multi-storey car park, which was still a half hour walk away from the Leaky Cauldron.

This was when Ron decided to speak up.

"Harry, can I ask you something?" he said quietly, trying to avoid catching anyone else's attention. It worked, none of the rest of the group, apart from Moody, were still alert enough from their long journey to take note.

Harry nodded.

"Well," Ron started nervously. "It's just… you've been acting a bit… I don't know, weird, lately. I just wanted to ask… maybe it's about the prefect thing and all that. I was just wondering… maybe… if you had a problem with that." He looked anxiously towards Harry. Harry didn't say anything.

"I mean, if you did I can tell McGonagall to stuff it," he continued, more sure of himself. "You should be prefect, easy, so if you want…" He tailed off again. Harry shook his head.

"I don't want to be prefect," he said simply. It was the truth yet it didn't feel quite as simple as that. "You should definitely accept. You'll make a great prefect, especially with Hermione."

Ron looked relieved - this clearly had been weighing down on him a lot - but Harry wasn't so sure. He hadn't lied. He could hang his hat on that. But he certainly had some sort of problem about Ron being prefect. What was it? Ron would do a good job, he'd been telling the truth when he'd said that. And Harry himself had been adamant he didn't want it. But why was he feeling so sick?

They'd reached the Leaky Cauldron by the time Harry had come to this thought and he was once again distracted by Moody's endless paranoia.

"Wait here," he growled at him. "Don't move a muscle until I return. If you are attacked execute plan 2b." He stomped into the building, leaving the rest of them behind.

"Moody's mad, isn't he," Fred said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I suppose he had to get the name from somewhere," George added. "And I guess you have to be a little mad to walk through muggle London with a Murkrow on your shoulder."

Despite Moody's dire warnings and insistence of the dangers all around them nothing happened while he was away and eventually Moody returned and gestured for them to follow him through the famous Pokémon tavern.

All eyes turned to them as they entered. They weren't exactly subtle. In the dingy, cramped setting of the Leaky Cauldron the group of six children and three adults was hard to miss and they were far from unrecognisable. Moody, stomping through ahead of them, was unique, but even he was perhaps less recognisable than the infamous Weasley red hair. Harry almost felt like no one had even noticed him, to his relief.

They filed out through the back into the courtyard, squashing together so they could all fit into the small space.

"What's going on?" Ron wondered from the back, craning his neck to see why they'd all stopped.

"Moody," the twins said in unison, rolling their eyes.

Their carefree expressions were not reflected in the faces of their parents. Despite their clear annoyance with Moody's circuitous route to the Leaky Cauldron their postures were tense, their eyes on high alert, and they flinched as one as Moody stepped back through the wall.

"All clear from what I can tell," he growled. "But don't let your guard down. Arthur, you take the rear. Be on guard." And he walked back through the wall.

Harry had visited Diagon Alley several times before, once at least for each of the four years he'd spent at Hogwarts, barring last year when he'd spent almost all of his summer with the Dursleys, but never had he experienced it like this.

Unlike the carefree days of years past they were bustled hurriedly from one shop to another under the watchful eyes of Moody and his Murkrow. Mrs Weasley hurried through their booklists and various other supplies with a nervous efficiency and once everything was found and paid for they were hurried straight out to the next shop.

They weren't the only people acting weirdly. From what Harry could tell Diagon Alley was functioning completely as normal before they came along. But now, as they hurried from shop to shop, other shoppers stopped and stared, whispering behind their hands and pointing unabashedly towards them, and particularly towards Harry.

The surrounding people were clearly grating on Moody, who probably assumed that any one of them could be a Death Eater in disguise, but there were others speckled throughout the alley that Harry recognised well. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, that bloke Sturgis from the Legion, it only just dawned on Harry the extent of this operation.

"Excuse me." The tiny little voice distracted Harry as he felt a small tug on his shirt and he looked around and, surprisingly, down, to see the person that had gained his attention.

The little boy was tiny, no older than five or six, but even so Moody still tensed to see him standing so close to his protectee. Harry, on the other hand, relaxed slightly.

"Yes?" he asked politely, slightly unsure of himself. He'd never dealt with young children before, not since he was one at any rate.

The young boy looked nervous, biting his lip adorably, but then he held out a small plush teddy of a Charizard.

"Can you please sign it?" he asked timidly.

Harry had never been one to lap up his fame. In general he hated it, and when presented with the opportunity to autograph something his first response was usually to try and get as far away as possible. Yet this little boy was so obviously nervous and innocent, something that melted Harry's resolve, and he let out a small smile.

He was stopped from doing any more by the appearance of the boy's mother, and she did not look pleased.

"Kevin, what have I told you?" she hissed, pulling him away quickly.

"It's alright," Harry said, taken aback by the woman's over the top reaction. "It's not a problem." But the woman just glanced up at him with a look of pure terror before dragging the child away, whispering non stop into his ear.

Harry was stunned. He stood numb, watching the woman disappear down the alley, and as he did so he heard the whispers start up around him.

"Awful thing," one hushed voice said.

"So close to catastrophe," said another.

"Good thing he didn't let loose that feral Charizard on him." Harry blinked. They couldn't be talking about him.

He didn't get answers to his questions until late, once they had completed their shopping and been hurried back to where Mr Weasley's minivan was parked, stopping regularly as Moody checked to see if anyone was following them. It was in the back of the van that Hermione broke the news to him.

"The Prophet's been reporting all sorts," she admitted sadly. "It's all at the direction of the Ministry. Since they refuse to admit You-know-who is back they have to discredit the ones saying he is; Dumbledore and you."

"Me," Harry repeated, dumbfounded. He'd been at the Dursleys all summer, what did he do to deserve this.

"They're making you out to be some sort of delinquent," Hermione admitted. "They keep on making hints that you're not all there or mentally unbalanced. There's even some articles that hint that you might have had something to do with Cedric's death."

"What?!" Harry asked, and this time his voice was louder. "How can they say that? Who are they to judge what happened?"

"No one," Hermione agreed. "And they don't say it outright, that would be slander and they could be sued really badly because of that, but they hint it. They'll write stories debunking your version of events with phrases like 'exposing Potter's misdirection' or 'throwing doubt on Potter's alibi'. It's subtle, and they spread it around through multiple articles, but they've been spending all summer trying to convince the Pokémon community that you and Dumbledore have totally lost it."

"And what about Charizard?" Harry questioned. "I heard someone refer to him as feral back there."

"Yeah, they've been on Charizard's case too," Ron said grimly. "On the first story about the event they put a massive picture of Charizard just after he'd evolved, you know, with all the fire around him and everything. It looks totally badass but taken out of context he looks dangerous."

"He is," Harry growled. Going after him was one thing but Charizard… Without Charizard Harry would not have been here. Without Charizard it would be Harry's name added next to Cedric's on the list of fatalities. No one was going to insult Charizard without Harry having something to say about it.