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.

"Congratulations!"

It was late, past midnight, when Hermione finally returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry and Ron having stayed up to surprise her with the good news.

"Thanks," Ron smiled, blushing slightly. "It was close though. I was really worried I wouldn't get in when Machop missed that last shot."

"We made the right choice," Harry said firmly. He was really proud of his friend and his earlier ill will towards Ron's fortunes at tryouts had evaporated, although leaving him no closer to discovering why it had bothered him so much.

"Well, I hope so," Ron said uncertainly. "It'll be more difficult in an actual game, there'll be the Beaters to worry about as well."

"I'm sure you'll do great," Hermione told him. Then she winced. Her wrist had knocked against the arm of her chair.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked worriedly, eyeing her with a cautious expression.

"Of course," Hermione said brusquely.

"You're lying," Harry told her. There was no use her denying it. "Come on, Hermione, look at you. You're exhausted and I know your wrist must be killing you."

"So what do you suggest?" Hermione said hotly. "That I not turn up for detention?"

"I'm saying you should stop getting into arguments with Umbridge," Harry told her. It really wasn't helping anyone.

"Excuse me, Harry, but I'll decide who I argue with and about what," Hermione said harshly. "You do not own me. I am allowed to make my own decisions."

"But," Harry said, but he got no further. With a small flash a Pokémon appeared, standing between the three of them, and they all instinctively fell back.

"Argh," Ron cried, his seat having completely overturned leaving him stuck with his bottom in the air. Harry himself was massaging his scalp where it had come into contact with the leg of a nearby table whilst Hermione was nursing her wrist, looking in a lot of pain.

The cause of the commotion revealed itself to be something not at all worth the over the top reaction. It was a Xatu, the Pokémon familiar to all three of them after all these years, and it was standing stock still, as they were used to.

"Is that…?" Hermione wondered. "The Sorting Xatu?" Harry shook his head. The Sorting Xatu was larger and, most importantly, held a powerful presence about itself, befitting a Pokémon that had been around since the age of the founders.

"Hey, that's Percy's," Ron exclaimed, having managed to crawl free and right his chair, sitting down and leaning forward interestedly. "What's he doing here?"

"He's got a letter," Harry pointed out. A plain white envelope was tied to Xatu's leg, though Xatu made no move to offer it to them. It did not move at all.

"What's Percy doing writing to me?" Ron wondered. "He never did it last year?"

"Maybe he's got something important to say," Hermione ventured. "Go on, Ron, open it." Ron reached out a hand and, when Xatu didn't respond, untied the letter from his leg. As soon as the letter was untied Xatu disappeared in a flash.

"Guess he wasn't waiting for a reply then," Harry muttered. He looked at Ron. "Go on, read it." Ron slit the envelope open and pulled out the letter, covered in very neat writing that was distinctly Percy's, before starting to read. As he did so a frown grew on his face. He read through the letter, then read through it again, then looked up.

"Oh, right," he said, just realising that Harry and Hermione were waiting for him to explain. "Listen to this. It's… something." He cleared his throat.

"Dear Ron," he read. "I hope that you are enjoying your first week back at Hogwarts and are not allowing the work to overwhelm you. A. are vastly important examinations that will have a great bearing on your future."

Harry frowned. This didn't sound even remotely interesting. But Ron continued.

"I write to you to make you aware of a very important piece of legislation passing through the Ministry at this moment, which will undoubtedly be in the morning paper. I'm sure by now you have made the acquaintance of Professor Umbridge, the Minister's Senior Undersecretary and now Pokémon Battling Professor. As of tomorrow she will be promoted to the post of Hogwarts High Inquisitor."

Harry and Hermione shared a look. High Inquisitor?

"I will not bore you with the details here, you most certainly will find out soon enough, but the basic fact is that Professor Umbridge will be granted new powers by the Ministry that outstrip any other teacher, with the exception of the Headmaster of course. It would be unwise to make an enemy of her at this juncture. All the best, Percy." Ron finished reading.

"You cannot argue with her," he said immediately. Hermione looked startled.

"You too?" she gasped.

"You can't do it, Hermione, she has too much power," Ron said. "We don't even know what she could do to you but I'm sure it'll be worse than lines. And how do you expect to do your homework without the use of your wrist."

"I'd find a way," Hermione said firmly. "But I refuse to silence myself when Umbridge expressly forbids questioning in her class in complete violation of her responsibilities as a teacher."

"She could have you expelled, Hermione," Ron pointed out, his voice rising. "What'll you do then, huh? What can you do if you're not here, with us?" Hermione's lip quivered.

"I can't just stay silent," she choked out. She looked on the verge of tears. "I can't. What Umbridge is doing is wrong and at the moment when we most need to learn to defend ourselves she is leaving us vulnerable by her unwillingness to teach. I can't stay quiet."

"You must," Ron said firmly. "You heard Percy. She is too powerful. You must stay quiet."

"There are other ways to resist," Harry murmured softly. "Not speaking up does not mean not doing anything. We'll still stand by the truth. We'll still convince everyone to learn to protect themselves. We just need to find another way."

Hermione looked so drained Harry just couldn't help but feel awful. He knew it wasn't his fault, knew that his advice was wise and that it would protect her from the worst of harm. But he knew Hermione could not act against her principles. She was too good for that. And telling her to do so was the worst thing Harry had ever asked of her.

Just as Percy had predicted the news broke the next morning. Many people in Hogwarts had the Daily Prophet, the nation's leading newspaper, delivered to them, and it took only a few minutes for everyone in the Great Hall to see the headline adorning the front page of the Saturday edition.

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR

Below was a copy of the legislation that made it so.

Educational Decree Number Twenty Three

The position of High Inquisitor of Hogwarts will be established, with immediate effect, to address the lack of oversight over the school. Current Pokémon Battling Professor, Dolores Jane Umbridge, will take up this post with the blessing of the Ministry of Pokémon. Professor Umbridge, in her duties as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, will have the power to inspect her fellow teachers and report back her findings to the Ministry to ensure the standard of education at Hogwarts remains high and in keeping with the expectations of those who entrust their children to it.

"As if it wasn't bad enough that we had to have Pokémon Battling with her now she's going to be sitting in on all our other classes," Ron complained.

"I can't believe they have done this," Hermione said, ignoring Ron. "They won't get away with it. People will see this is just a blatant power grab."

"How do you mean?" Harry asked.

"It's just another way to make Dumbledore less powerful, isn't it," Hermione huffed. "The power to inspect her fellow teachers and report back to ensure the standard… oh, she'll do that alright, but she'll only be measuring on the standard the Ministry want; loyalty."

"You think she's going to go after Dumbledore's supporters at Hogwarts?" Ron worried. "Like McGonagall and Flitwick."

"I doubt she could, though I wouldn't put it past her to try," Hermione told him. "McGonagall and Flitwick are great teachers and thousands of people can attest to that. I'm more worried about people like Hagrid. He's only been in the job a couple of years and everyone knows he's loyal to Dumbledore, right to the very end. And Snape too."

"Snape?" Harry said sharply.

"Is loyal to Dumbledore," Hermione pointed out. "And nowhere near as popular as McGonagall or Flitwick. Think about what would happen if the Ministry targeted him. He could get fired, and then what would happen. What would it mean for the Legion if Snape was no longer at Hogwarts? Would You-know-who even bother keeping him around? Would his usefulness be over if he wasn't in a prime position to spy on Dumbledore? Who knows what would happen to him if he lost his job here."

It was a chilling thought. Dumbledore had once impinged on Harry just how much Snape was putting himself at risk in his role in the war. As a spy and double agent he was putting himself in the line of fire of both sides, and now possibly a third as well. And if Voldemort felt that Snape had served his purpose there would be no doubt that he'd look to finish him off. Barty Crouch was proof of that.

"He'll be fine," Ron said. "He's a good actor, Snape. I bet he'll say something sarcastic and insult Harry's potions grades and he'll be Umbridge's new best friend. Umbridge isn't going to get the better of Snape."

It was a good point Ron made but a worrying one at that as it foreshadowed a pretty horrible truth about the situation they were in. The Ministry held all the cards and to an extent there was nothing Harry, Ron and Hermione could do but put their faith in people like Snape and Dumbledore and McGonagall and hope that somewhere along the line things would change for the better.

For the time being things were looking rather bleak. As the weeks passed the effects of Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three became clear. From Harry's brief conversations with Hagrid he learned that Umbridge had watched several of his classes already, lending credit to Hermione's theory, while they saw first hand Umbridge inspect classes by Flitwick and Trelawney, though Umbridge had yet to brave the lion's den that was McGonagall's Pokémon Physiology classroom. She had yet, apparently, to visit Professor Snape's dungeon either, which was interesting in a completely different way.

Yet for all that Umbridge was making her presence known around the school in ways that worried those that did not buy the idea that the Ministry was working in their best interests she had yet to do more than watch and take note, an irritating yet so far harmless pest in the corner.

She did not show as much restraint in her own class. In fact she seemed to be on a mission to make their time in her classroom as painful and unproductive as possible, and Hermione was taking the brunt of it.

She'd kept her mouth shut since that first week, biting her tongue and keeping her head down as her rational mind told her that Harry's and Ron's words of caution were wise. And Umbridge was delighted. She took great pride in starting every class with a pointed look to Hermione as she set them to the task of reading the latest chapter of Wilbert Slinkhard's book and on more than one occasion did she stop the class fully to question Hermione on what she had read, Hermione forced to do nothing more than say exactly what Umbridge wanted to hear.

It was after one of these lessons, where Umbridge had grilled Hermione for fifteen minutes on the benefits of using Protect in the face of an attack, that Harry felt things had reached rock bottom.

"That bloody, foul, Slugma-headed, toad-faced…" Ron's anger pushed him beyond articulation and he was left mouthing wordless obscenities as they left Umbridge's class behind them for a blessed few days relief.

"Forget it," Hermione said tiredly. She was mentally exhausted. "Just… don't talk about it." Ron fell silent, though his anger was now replaced with concern as he glanced at Hermione, perhaps wondering whether he dared risk trying to talk to her. Harry decided it wasn't a good idea and shook his head discretely, Ron heeding his advice with some relief as they headed down the stairs towards the Great Hall in silence. Harry revelled in it. It felt like he hadn't had the chance to think since he'd arrived.

"Guys, I think I'm going to head to the Hospital Wing," he announced. Ron looked at him as if he was crazy. Hermione, however, looked somewhat resigned.

"I knew this would happen," she told him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she shook her head at him with fond exasperation. "You just can't stay away, can you?"

What she was talking about, the resident of the Hospital Wing he was going to visit, was the mysterious Pokémon egg he'd delivered nearly three weeks ago. Despite the time that had passed Harry had yet to visit, though he'd always planned to. But between Quidditch and Umbridge and the increased workload that was being heaped on the A.P.E students he hadn't found time.

"You can come too," Harry offered. It felt weird. It wasn't like he had any claim over the egg to decided who was and was not allowed to see it.

"We'll leave you to it," Hermione smiled, putting a hand on Ron's arm to guide him in the direction of the Great Hall, not that he needed much convincing. "But don't be too late or you'll miss lunch."

Harry took that as a warning, a reminder that time was limited, and he quickly hurried off towards the Hospital Wing, his feet finding the familiar route automatically and guiding him to the doors of the one place he usually hoped not to end up.

Madam Pomfrey was organising potions when Harry walked in, and when she saw him she put her hands on her waist, a stern expression on her face.

"Mr Potter," she said crisply, putting down her potions and striding towards him. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Harry replied.

"Are your Pokémon hurt?" Madam Pomfrey pressed. Harry shook his head. "Then why are you here?"

Harry shifted slightly under her stare. Pomfrey, like McGonagall, had a knack for making you feel like you'd done something wrong.

"I just want to visit, alright," he said eventually, giving up all pretences that he was there for anything else. "I just want to see how it's doing."

"It is doing perfectly well, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said crisply. "And now that you know that you can leave."

"Can I see it?" Harry asked. "Please?"

"It is an egg, Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey told him, thoroughly annoyed. "It is round and brown and looks exactly the same as it did when you first brought it to me."

"But what if it's about to hatch?" Harry queried.

"When that is the case I'll let you know," Madam Pomfrey told him. "But until then unless you have a valid medical problem then I will have to ask you to leave." Harry thought quickly.

"My arm hurts," he said. Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow but nevertheless her professional training kicked in.

"Have you been in any accidents recently?" she asked him. Harry shook his head.

"I slept funny on it, though," he told her. "And the blood feels all weird. I think I probably need an overnight stay in the Hospital Wing."

"That sounds very unlikely," Madam Pomfrey told him. "Even for you, Potter."

"But it really hurts," Harry tried to persuade her. "There's like this aching feeling and then it gets really bad when I move my arm like this…"

"Then don't do that then."

"Hem, hem." A small, very fake cough broke up Harry and Pomfrey's argument and they turned to the door to find Professor Umbridge staring at them, smiling sweetly, her eyes narrowed.

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," Madam Pomfrey said, recovering first. "What can I do for you?" Umbridge, for whatever reason, let out a giggle.

"Oh no, I was just passing by," she said, though her eyes told a different story. "But I must wonder as to what Mr Potter is doing here. I would have thought he'd be in the Great Hall with all the other students." Her smile was growing sickly.

"Mr Potter is here for medical reasons," Madam Pomfrey answered swiftly. Harry was surprised. He hadn't expected Madam Pomfrey to be so willing to lie for him. It was either a mark of how much she actually cared for Harry, or how much she loathed Umbridge.

"And what exactly is the nature of this… condition?" Umbridge asked sweetly, though her eyes were like lasers, burning into Harry with barely suppressed glee. Oh how much she would want to uncover some deep, dark illness Harry was hiding. She'd be hailed above all others at Fudge's Ministry.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that," Madam Pomfrey told her strictly. "I am under oath not to reveal details about my patients' health, and you, Professor Umbridge, do not have the authority to receive that information."

Umbridge's face turned sour and Harry had to marvel at Madam Pomfrey's balls. Reminding Umbridge that she was, in fact, still not as powerful as others, in particular Dumbledore, would hurt her in a way little else would.

"Now, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, turning to him in a business-like fashion. "I say we should leave your arm for a day and see if it feels better tomorrow. If it still feels sore then feel free to come back and I'll have another look."

Harry recognised a dismissal when he saw one, though again he marvelled at the ease with which Madam Pomfrey had lied, and how believable it had sounded. He hurried from the room, passing Umbridge who still looked like she'd swallowed something sour.

As he walked along the corridor, heading back towards the Great Hall, he looked back over his shoulder. Umbridge had not followed him. She was talking to Madam Pomfrey, about what Harry couldn't hear, but he didn't have a good feeling about it.

His suspicions were backed up after he explained everything that had happened to Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. They both agreed something was up.

"Do you reckon she's ill?" Ron asked, somewhat hopefully. Harry shook his head.

"It wasn't like that," he told him. "It wasn't like she was asking for Madam Pomfrey's help. It was more like she was demanding something or looking for something that Madam Pomfrey had."

"Do you know if she gave it to her?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head.

"Well, let's hope not," Hermione said. "Madam Pomfrey is smart and from the sounds of it she doesn't trust Umbridge any more than we do."

"Which is saying something?" Ron interjected.

"Still," Hermione chewed her lip. "I wonder what Madam Pomfrey could have that Umbridge would want. A special potion of some sort. Or records."

"Well, we know one thing that Pomfrey has," Ron said, shooting a meaningful look at the other two. Hermione gasped.

"How could I have been so stupid," she said aloud, clasping a hand to her forehead and looking positively dumbstruck. "It all fits. Of course Umbridge would want it."

Harry was confused and Ron, despite having prompted this outburst, frowned.

"Sorry, what?" he asked. "Are we talking about the same thing?"

"The egg," Hermione confirmed. Ron nodded.

"You think Umbridge wants the egg?" Harry said. "But why?"

"Well, you have to try and look at things from an outsider's point of view," Hermione stated. "Forget everything you know about the egg and think on only what Umbridge knows. Harry Potter, Dumbledore's protégé, brings an egg to Hogwarts for Madam Pomfrey to look after. No one knows where it's come from or what it'll hatch into or when, but you know Harry Potter and, by proxy, Professor Dumbledore care about it. What would you think?" She looked expectantly at the other two.

"Err," Ron said. "I don't know. It's powerful, I guess. If Dumbledore has something to do with it it's probably a legendary egg or something. I mean, it can't just be a Rattata egg. Nothing around Harry is that straight forward."

How true that was, Harry thought, but it seemed like Ron had said exactly what Hermione had been hoping for.

"Exactly," she said, sounding excited. "You think it must be a powerful Pokémon that hatches from this and if you believe that Dumbledore is trying to raise an army, like Percy said, then…" It all made sense.

"Blimey," Ron muttered. "She wants the egg for herself."

"We should go," Harry said, moving to stand up. "I don't know how strong Umbridge is but there's always a chance she can beat Pomfrey one on one. Who knows how far she could have gotten by now."

"Harry, relax," Hermione scolded, looking up at him with the sort of expression that said he was being really stupid. "She's not going to just steal the egg, she wouldn't get away with that. No, what I think she's doing is much worse." Harry sank back into his seat, sharing an anxious look with Ron. Worse?

"I'm listening," he said tightly. Hermione sighed.

"It's a well known phenomenon that Pokémon, when they hatch from eggs, consider the first living being they see to be their mother," Hermione said. "Or at least their parental figure in cases where Pokémon mate for life. Anyway, we know from Sirius that Pokémon don't see right and wrong the same way people do. If a Pokémon is loyal to you it will do anything for you, even things that we'd consider plain wrong."

"Like Gallade breaking Sirius out of Azkaban," Ron said. "Gallade didn't know he was innocent but he broke him out anyway, because he was loyal."

"And it's the same for Peter Pettigrew's Forretress," Hermione said. "Killing itself on his command. And Lily Potter's Electrode…" she tailed off sadly.

Harry shrugged it off. "So what you're saying is Umbridge wants to be the mummy," he summed up. "If she can get the Pokémon's loyalty…"

"A possibly legendary Pokémon's loyalty," Ron added.

"Then she'd essentially be able to control it," Harry finished. "It would do whatever she says, so long as it sees her first." There was a moment's pause.

"Blimey," Ron let out a huge breath, eyes wide. "We can't let that happen."

"Agreed," Hermione said.

"But what can we do?" Ron wondered. "Apart from posting a guard to make sure that someone else is always there to be the first thing it sees when it hatches…"

"Madam Pomfrey did say she'd let me know when it is about to hatch," Harry said. "And she will be there practically all the time so maybe…" he trailed off. It was a small hope. In fact, it didn't even feel like they had any hope at all.

Ron growled.

"We've got to do something," he said angrily. "We've got to stop her, somehow. Umbridge is getting way too powerful and we can't just hope that Dumbledore or McGonagall are going to do something or that You-know-who will be nice enough to show his snake face and convince everyone 'oops, maybe that Potter kid was right all along'. We've got to do something." Harry sighed.

"But what?" he asked dispiritedly. "You said it yourself, Umbridge is too powerful. If we try anything we'll probably end up expelled and even if Dumbledore is able to stop that how long will it be before he's ousted too. Lets just face the facts, we're stuck here, at least until someone makes a move."

"But why can't it be us," Hermione said, her eyes wide with excitement. "If Dumbledore can't do anything and we can't do anything to protest then why not do something in secret."

"Hermione?" Ron questioned. Hermione just shook him off.

"I've got an idea," she said hurriedly. "But not here. Meet me in the Common Room at midnight. We're not through yet."