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.
The Slytherin team had changed somewhat in the two years since they'd last played. Back in Harry's second year Lucius Malfoy, in an attempt to buy the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin, had donated five Vigoroth and a Slaking to the Slytherin team to play with. Now only remnants of that team remained.
With Marcus Flint having finally graduated, a year late, the enormous and surprisingly agile Slaking was no longer guarding the Slytherin goalposts. A Ferrothorn took up the gloves instead, and though intimidating would undoubtedly be much less difficult to deal with than Slaking. Only three of the five Vigoroth remained, two Chasers and a Beater, and the last member of that formidable team, the Seeker, fluttered overhead.
Draco Malfoy's Honchkrow flew, silent as the night and all the more menacing, and Harry remembered the day only too well that Honchkrow had reached this evolutionary stage. Back then it had terrified Harry, worried that Aerodactyl, who he'd been forced to play with in Fletchinder's absence, would not have what it takes to beat him.
Now he was much less concerned. For one thing he had Talonflame with him, undoubtedly one of, if not the, greatest fliers in the school. Only once had he failed to catch the snitch, and on that occasion he'd been struck by lightning, and in the time since the last match he'd taken on a Charizard too. They were more than capable of beating Honchkrow.
The whistle to signal the start of the game caught Harry by surprise, his evaluation of the Slytherin team having distracted his focus, but he quickly turned his attention down to the pitch below as the Chasers threw themselves at the Quaffle.
"Gryffindor in possession," Lee Jordan announced, commentating as usual. "Lopunny taking the lead. Nice layback to Hitmontop, close call but Vigoroth misses with the steal. Now Hitmontop again, Hitmonlee, passes, fakes, Gryffindor score!"
Harry grinned as the stadium erupted and Hitmonlee sprung back into position as a Slytherin Chaser fetched the Quaffle. Angelina, Alicia and Katie were looking better than ever and their many years experience playing together was proving too much for the Slytherin Chasers to handle.
"Now Slytherin in possession, Vigoroth with the ball, passes to… Vigoroth, to Vigoroth, to Vigoroth, hey, will you two cut it out!" The crowd laughed at Lee's annoyance as the two Vigoroth Chasers continued to share the Quaffle between them.
"Alright, I'm not saying anything until someone else touches the Quaffle," Lee announced, just as one of the Vigoroth, finally, passed to the third Chaser. "Finally. Marowak takes possession… passes back to Vigoroth, back to Marowak, oh! Nearly intercepted there but Marowak holds on and there's an opportunity with Hitmonlee out of position! To Vigoroth, the other Vigoroth, back to the first one, he shoots… Saved!"
Harry let out a sigh of relief as Machop clung securely to the Quaffle, having correctly predicted that Vigoroth would throw it straight. He prepared to throw it out.
"Foul!" Lee Jordan cried and Harry couldn't believe what he'd just seen. Vigoroth, the one who had just shot moments ago, had barrelled straight into Machop, knocking him roughly into the goalpost.
Madam Hooch's whistle blew.
"Gryffindor penalty!" She announced, perhaps the easiest call she'd ever had to make in a match.
"Too right," Lee said, calming down slightly after his initial anger. "And Machop gets up and brushes himself off. Solid Pokémon, that. Now Lopunny to take the penalty, waiting for the whistle… she scores. Twenty zero Gryffindor!"
And the game continued in the same vein. Gryffindor, powered by the triumvirate of Lopunny, Hitmonlee and Hitmontop, were running Slytherin ragged, scoring at will whenever they had possession.
But they weren't given that opportunity often. Despite Harry knowing that the Slytherins liked to play dirty he was still shocked by the number of fouls they were committing, and they were all focused on one player.
Machop, standing in the Gryffindor goal, was doing a fine job of filling Snorlax's boots. But with every save he made came a blow, either from a Slytherin Chaser or one of their Beaters, and a penalty awarded to Gryffindor. With each one the score mounted up more in Gryffindor's favour and with each foul Machop took longer and longer to get back to his feet.
Angelina called a time out.
"I don't believe it," she said angrily as Harry finally made it down to the ground to join the rest of the team. Only the Chasers and Ron were there though. Fred and George, perhaps even angrier than Angelina, were arguing with Madam Hooch out in the centre of the pitch. Not that there was anything she could do. She was punishing them just as much as the rules allowed her to.
"This is ridiculous, Fred, George, get over here!" A disgruntled Fred and George gave up their discussion with Hooch and trudged over to the team, not looking happy.
"Hooch says she can't do anything apart from give penalties when Slytherin foul," Fred spat. "Bloody cheaters. They are barely even trying to play Quidditch."
"I know, it's awful," Katie agreed. "We haven't even been given the chance to attack properly, just penalties. I don't think Hitmontop or Hitmonlee have touched the Quaffle in ten minutes."
"Agreed, it's awful, but we can't stand around here and just complain about it," Angelina told them seriously. "We need to make a plan. If they are able to keep hitting Machop eventually he won't be able to get back up. Fred, George, you're on protection duty."
"Got it," Fred and George told her.
"Do your best to protect Machop but failing that try and rough up the Slytherins the same as they're doing to us," Angelina said. "It may be poor sportsmanship but against the Slytherins I don't think I care." The rest of the team agreed.
"I don't think I have to tell you what to do, Potter," Angelina said. "When you see the Snitch, catch it."
"I will," Harry said. It was as simple as that. He wouldn't just try, he would get that snitch.
Angelina nodded in approval. "I suppose that's all I've got to say except get back out there," she told them. "Ron," she said, singling out the newest member of the team. He looked nervous. "Good work, keep it up." Ron nodded and swallowed. His focus was back.
As Harry rose back into the air, the game preparing to start below him, he felt anger boil within him. It was so unfair, so low of the Slytherins to be targeting Ron like that. It was cruel. Machop, the poor thing, was battling bravely but this was the sort of thing that could cause serious psychological issues. It only stirred Harry's desire to win even more. If they lost who knew how bad Machop would take it.
The game was back in full flow, Gryffindor finally having proper possession of the Quaffle for the first time in a while. They bared down on goal, probing and pressing the Slytherin defences, but they were brought short by Madam Hooch's whistle.
"Gryffindor penalty!" She cried, and it quickly became clear why. Whilst the whole stadium was watching the Gryffindor Chasers go forward another attack had gone by almost completely unnoticed. The Slytherin Beater, Carracosta, had hit an unsuspecting Machop with a Water Pulse, blasting him backwards and off the edge of the pitch.
The response from the Gryffindor team was immediate. Fred and George's Kecleon were called back, now standing guard on either side of a now groggy Machop, while the Gryffindor Chasers lined up in front of them.
Lopunny scored the penalty.
"Lopunny scores! One hundred and ten to thirty Gryffindor!" Lee announced, stressing the score as much as possible, presumably to try and get back at the Slytherins for their dirty tactics. The Slytherins didn't seem to care.
"Slytherin in possession, one of their cheaters, sorry, I mean, Chasers, with the Quaffle," unlike on past occasions McGonagall didn't admonish him. She was there, standing watchfully over his shoulder, but her face was tight. She looked furious.
"And Vigoroth passes to Vigoroth who passes to Marowak who passes to Vigoroth," Lee said in a bored voice. "I don't think I've seen anything more mind numbing than watching Slytherin play. Oh look, they've passed it forward now. They should probably cut mistakes like that out."
The Slytherin section of the stands were jeering loudly but Harry couldn't imagine that any one of them thought they had the moral grounds to complain. Their team had used some of the most underhanded and foul tricks in the book today. They deserved all of Lee's criticisms, and more.
"And Vigoroth finally wakes up and realises he's playing Quidditch," Lee announced. "He moves forward, takes a shot… excellent save by Machop. I've got to say, this Pokemon is plucky. Proving it takes more than dirty tactics to beat pure determination. This has been an outstanding performance by the newest member of the Gryffindor team."
Lee was laying it on a little thick, understandably given how much it was winding up the Slytherins, but Harry nevertheless agreed with the sentiment. Machop had been a rock, much like Snorlax had been before him, and his steady consistency had kept Ron focused too. Even now, half an hour into the match, Ron could be heard shouting encouragements onto the pitch.
"Oh, that's nasty!" Lee cried as Vigoroth predictably slashed Machop, striking him viciously across the chest. "At what point do we start handing out bans, eh? Penalty to Gryffindor."
Lopunny stepped forward, taking the familiar route to the penalty spot, and waited patiently for the rest of the players to take their positions. Meanwhile, Vigoroth pulled himself to his feet, shooting an evil grin at Machop. He scraped his claws together menacingly as he made his way towards his own end of the pitch. Then a tongue wrapped around his shoulder. Another tongue wrapped around his waist. Vigoroth suddenly found himself lifted into the air, eyes wide and panicked, and was slammed head first into the pitch.
"Good on you!" Lee cheered, along with the Gryffindor section of the stands, as the dazed Vigoroth rubbed his head tenderly. "Some brotherly love right there. Kecleon aren't going to let those arses take potshots at Machop!" The Gryffindor jubilation was mellowed slightly as Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Penalty to Slytherin.
"Okay, just to clear this up we'll have that Gryffindor penalty first," Lee explained to the spectators. "Then the Slytherin one. Let's go Lopunny!"
As Lopunny stepped up, Quaffle at the ready. Harry looked down below. Ron was crouched next to Machop, who had been knocked off the pitch by the latest attack, giving him words of encouragement as he helped him back to his feet. Harry hoped it worked, and hoped even more that the snitch would finally show itself so this game could be over.
Down below Lopunny scored the penalty.
"Yes! One hundred and twenty to thirty! Now the Slytherin penalty." The Chasers wandered back to the Gryffindor end of the pitch, lining up as they had before except the opposite way around, and Machop dragged himself to his position in front of the posts.
The entire stadium was quiet as Vigoroth took his time, sizing up his opponent with a gleam in his eye. He took a step forward, standing over the Quaffle, and hoisted it into one clawed hand.
"Machop!" Machop cried challengingly, showing he wasn't going to be intimidated by the larger Pokémon. His muscles were tensed, taught against his bruised and battered skin. "Machop!"
And then he started to glow. The whole world was still, watching in wonder and disbelief, as Machop grew taller and broader, the light turning brighter than anything before it burst…
… and Machoke stood before them.
"Machoke!" He cried, pumped up and ready. He flexed his muscles, the bulges dancing delightedly across his entire frame, and he fixed Vigoroth with a determined stare.
Madam Hooch's whistle blew. Vigoroth tossed the Quaffle. Machoke caught it with ease.
"Take that!" Lee cried delightedly. "Terrible penalty and Machop, sorry, Machoke, saves it! And he's attacking again. Unbelievable."
Vigoroth had thrown himself forward wildly, clearly programmed to attack at all times as he threw himself at Machoke. In response Machoke cocked back a huge fist, and punched him viciously in the face.
"Slytherin penalty!" Hooch cried but Gryffindors didn't care a jolt. Vigoroth, Slytherin's designated penalty taker, was lying crosseyed on the ground at Machoke's feet, all but out of the game.
A cry went up in the stands.
"The snitch!" Lee shouted. "The snitch has appeared! Of all the times…"
Harry shut off Lee's commentary as his focus sharpened and, without needing to be instructed, Talonflame shot forward.
They'd reacted a little slow, distracted by what had occurred down on the pitch below, but Talonflame had more than enough speed to make up the distance. Honchkrow was fast for his species, but so was Talonflame and that meant a lot.
Talonflame nipped in to grab the snitch first.
"And Talonflame's got the snitch and is heading home!" Lee Jordan yelled, the whole stadium up on their feet to watch. "And he's moving fast! Dodged a Dark Pulse! Close shave but still with the Snitch! Come on now, Talonflame! Yes! Yes! Talonflame catches the Snitch! Gryffindor win! Two hundred and seventy to thirty! Take that you foul, cheating…!"
Lee Jordan's commentary was cut off, and Harry could easily imagine the stern telling off he was getting from Professor McGonagall, but he didn't care one jolt. The crowd had erupted as Talonflame dropped the Snitch on the Gryffindor pole and still they cheered as Madam Hooch blew sharply on her whistle to signal the end of the match.
"Well done, Talonflame," Harry said as the fiery bird Pokemon swooped down towards him. "Well done." He lowered his balloon to the ground, Talonflame gliding down with him, and was met at the bottom by Ron, who grabbed him in a headlock and roughly rubbed at his head.
"Brilliant mate," he crowed, grinning broadly. "Way to show them."
"You too," Harry agreed as he was finally released and allowed to straighten up. "And congratulations. Machoke looks really strong." Machoke flexed his muscles proudly, causing his body to undulate. There was not an ounce of fat anywhere to be seen.
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "I can't wait till the next match. He did great as a Machop, I can't even imagine how brilliant he'll be now." He looked absolutely delighted. Harry was proud.
Their euphoria was brought to a sudden end as a commotion broke out in the centre of the pitch. There was the sound of a scuffle, cries and the sounds of blows being landed.
"Fred! No!" Angelina shouted.
Harry and Ron shared a look and ran forward, rushing towards the scene with worry. They were not expecting what they saw.
George Weasley, his face livid with rage, was straining against the combined strength of Angelina, Alicia and Katie, and what he was straining for was even worse. Fred, unrestrained, was kneeling over the prone form of Draco Malfoy, raining blow after blow on the Slytherin who was barely putting up an effort to defend himself. It didn't look like he could.
"Fred," Ron said, alarmed, trying to grab hold of his arm as he threw another punch. But Fred shrugged him off angrily, not even looking up to acknowledge them as he continued his assault on Malfoy's face.
Together Harry and Ron moved forward as one and grasped hold of Fred tightly, dragging him backwards with no little difficulty as Fred continued to strain against them, reaching for his already defeated foe. Malfoy was still lying on the ground, groaning in pain, and nobody in the Slytherin team moved to help. Harry wasn't sure if it was because of shock or they just didn't care.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Madam Hooch's voice split the air around them as she stomped forward, her face furious. "Never have I ever seen…!"
"He deserved it," Fred spat, literally sending a globule of spit towards Malfoy's prone form and prompting Harry and Ron to pull him back further. "That worthless piece of scum…"
"Mr Weasley!" Professor McGonagall's voice silenced him, and all those around him, as Harry and Ron automatically turned towards her, holding Fred between them as if in sacrifice to the furious head of house. "How disgraceful!"
Never had Harry seen McGonagall this angry, and he'd provoked her ire plenty of times in the past. Her eyes were narrowed, her lips pursed tight together in a thin line, and she fixed her glare so firmly on Fred that he did not dare look.
"How shameful!" McGonagall told him, her words falling like jackhammers. "To attack another student in front of the whole school! Your parents taught you better than that! Hogwarts has taught you better than that!" Fred looked down at the ground, ashamed.
"You'll lose fifty points from Gryffindor," McGonagall told him. "And you'll be in detention for a month. Not a word, I won't hear it. This is disgraceful, unworthy of this school, of your house, of your family. What your parents will think when I tell them…"
"Hem, hem."
Harry had not thought anything would have been able to stop McGonagall's tirade but it appeared that the small, irritating fake cough from Professor Umbridge had done just the trick. Her mouth clamped shut, her eyes narrowing even further than before, and she turned stiffly to face her colleague.
"Yes, Delores?" she said, barely managing to keep a modicum of respect. In the break in McGonagall's tirade Madam Pomfrey rushed forward and started attending to Malfoy. Harry couldn't see his face but the cloth Madam Pomfrey was using to wipe it was covered in blood.
"Dear, Minerva, there's no need to be uncivil," Umbridge said with a titter. "I am just here to help."
"I don't need help," McGonagall said shortly. Anyone watching could attest to that.
"I disagree," Umbridge told her, ignoring the way her nostrils flared. "I think, unfortunately, your hands are tied when it comes to doling out punishment. As my role as High Inquisitor I can be a lot more thorough."
"Mr Weasley is a Gryffindor student," McGonagall said sharply. "That means he is my responsibility and it falls on me to assign his punishment." Umbridge tittered again.
"Yes, that used to be the case," she said with a small, fake, laugh. "But, as a stroke of good fortune would have it, I was just in conference with Cornelius, that is to say, the Minister, this very morning, discussing an interesting piece of legislation that just passed through the wizengamot. Shall I read it, Minerva?" McGonagall nodded curtly. It was clear Umbridge was going to read it anyway.
Umbridge, looking pleased, pulled out a small letter from her pocket, folded neatly into a tiny little square, which she opened delicately before letting out another fake cough and she started to read.
"Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five," she began, to Harry's horror. "The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Pokémon." Umbridge folded the letter up and slipped it back into her pocket.
"So you see, Minerva, I have the right and indeed the responsibility to take charge in cases of severe disobedience and I must say that house points and detention don't seem nearly enough punishment for such an aggressive and unprovoked attack on another student."
"It wasn't unprovoked," Fred growled angrily.
"And we're suppose to believe you?" Umbridge said with a patronising glance. "No, clearly you have not been punished enough. I suggest there should be no more Quidditch for you. And no Hogsmeade trips either. A lifetime ban for both would seem suitable."
"What?!" Fred gasped and Harry and Ron actually dropped his arms in surprise at the verdict. But Fred didn't do anything. He was far too shocked.
"And I think the same should apply for your brother too," Umbridge added.
"He didn't do anything," Harry argued. For all the good it would do.
"Mr Weasley's twin was quite clearly willing to commit the same crime, Mr Potter," Umbridge said sweetly. "If his teammates hadn't stopped him who knows what would have happened to poor Mr Malfoy." For all her words Umbridge had not glanced once at where the boy lay.
"Delores, really," McGonagall spoke up. "To punish a boy for an act he has not even committed…"
"Is under my authority," Umbridge said simply, raising herself to her full height, which coincidentally was still a fair bit shorter than McGonagall. "I did express my concerns about allowing the Gryffindor Quidditch Team to reform Minerva, for this precise reason. Now with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five I have no need to accede to your demands. It is about time you get used to the fact that things are changing here at Hogwarts. This is only the beginning."