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.

"Really Potter, the egg is not going to hatch by you staring at it."

Harry lifted his head from where he'd been resting it on his hands and looked up at Madam Pomfrey.

"Why not?" He asked. Madam Pomfrey gave an exasperated sigh and went back to restocking the supply cabinet. It seemed the only reason she was allowing him to stay was because she was busy.

With a sigh Harry sat back, one hand automatically falling on the chain around his neck. The key stone, for that was what it surely must be, was often on Harry's mind. In Pokémon Physiology they were still studying Mega Evolution, and apparently would be all year, and every time he sat in McGonagall's class he thought about the chain around his neck.

He hadn't brought it up with Sirius during their encounter, and was kicking himself for forgetting, but he'd simply been too surprised to see him to remember something so unconnected to the day's events. Now he would just have to wait until Christmas, yet another reason why he wanted this term to end.

At the moment, just a few days after the fateful Quidditch match, Harry was, of course, in the Hospital Wing, watching the egg he'd transported there only two months prior. It had been a while since he'd seen it, he hadn't visited since Umbridge had had the cameras installed and made going anywhere secretly all but impossible. Fortunately there had been no change to the condition of the egg. It looked exactly as it had the first time he'd seen it at number twelve Grimmauld Place.

"When will it hatch?" Harry asked, returning his head to resting on his hands and peering up to where Madam Pomfrey was working. She sighed.

"Who knows," she responded, not turning to look but at least slowing down enough to think before she spoke. "Eggs hatch at a variety of rates and you cannot estimate without knowing exactly which species of Pokémon will hatch from it."

"And you don't?" Harry continued to question.

"It is possible to tell," Madam Pomfrey admitted. "An expert could spend five minutes examining the egg and tell you exactly which Pokémon would hatch from it. I, unfortunately, do not have those skills, though I can make some educated guesses."

"Like what?" Harry asked, watching her. Madam Pomfrey paused and then set down the potions she was holding, moving over to the cushion on which the egg lay.

"The egg is a brown colour," Madam Pomfrey noted. "That normally implies that the Pokémon will have a similar colouring. For example Mudkip eggs are blue, as are Wooper and Azurill."

"Norbert's egg was blue," Harry remembered. "It even had those splotch marks the same colour as his head… thing." Trying to describe the armoured growth that extended from Bagon's forehead to its upper back was surprisingly difficult.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "And since this egg is brown we can imagine that the Pokémon that hatches will most likely be brown too," she said. "Perhaps it will be a ground type. The shade is quite similar to a Sandshrew or a Hippopotas. But then it could also be a normal type, like a Buneary, or maybe a flying type like Pidgey or HootHoot."

"And it depends on which one it is how long it'll take to hatch?" Harry asked. Pomfrey nodded.

"Indeed. For a Pokémon like Pidgey the egg wouldn't take long at all, perhaps it would have even hatched by now given we don't know exactly how old the egg is. For a Pokémon like Buneary it would take longer, around a medium time frame, and for a Pokémon like Hippopotas it would take longer still. Given we don't know what point in the egg cycle it was when Mr Lupin discovered it, as well as natural variation in gestation periods within species, it seems highly unlikely we could predict when it would hatch, even if we did know which Pokémon to expect."

"You should be getting on, Potter," Madam Pomfrey finished, fixing a stern look on him. "Your classes will be starting shortly and if I'm not mistaken you haven't had lunch yet." Harry nodded guiltily. "Alright then, out. Off to the Great Hall with you."

Harry left the Hospital Wing with no small amount of reluctance, treasuring the time he spent with the unresponsive egg and aware of how few opportunities he would have to do so again with Umbridge breathing down his neck.

But Madam Pomfrey was right. Classes would begin shortly and now that he thought about it he was starving, which prompted him to break out into a brisk walk as he attempted to reach the Great Hall before they stopped serving food.

Already there were some students going in the other direction, heading back to their common rooms to drop off or pick up their bags, but Harry paid them no mind, not until one of them bumped harshly into his shoulder, causing him to stumble.

"Watch it, Potter," Daphne Greengrass sneered. The blonde girl, a Slytherin in Harry's year, had her eyes narrowed on him before she let out a haughty huff and turned away, striding off with her head high and leaving him alone in the corridor, confused.

It took a moment for Harry to react, completely caught off guard, but when he did his destination had changed. There was still time to get some food, though he'd probably have to pick it up and go, but his thoughts led him instead to the first floor boys bathroom. A couple of sixth year students were washing their hands by the sinks and one of the cubicles was occupied. Harry took the remaining one and locked the door behind him.

Daphne Greengrass was something of an unknown to Harry, despite having had classes with her for over four years now. Their conversations up to this point were limited to asking each other with forced politeness to pass over plant pots in Herbology or Leppa berries in Potions. Harry really didn't know her at all.

All in all her harsh words were not unexpected, in fact they very nicely fitted in with the personality of the stereotypical Slytherin. Rude, uncaring, particularly if the victim wore a Gryffindor tie, the exchange was similar to many others Harry had witnessed and indeed experienced over the years.

Yet, Harry thought as he sat down on the toilet lid and looked at his hand, this was entirely different. For the harsh words and the bumped shoulders weren't the entirety of Harry's encounter with Daphne Greengrass. There was a third factor, and it was scrawled on the tiny scrap of paper the girl had shoved into Harry's hand as they collided.

'Meet me in the library. We need to talk.'

The note didn't mention a time but Harry was convinced this message was of the urgent variety. After all, for what reason would a Slytherin make contact with a Gryffindor, and him for gods sake, unless it wasn't very, very serious.

The slamming of a cubicle door broke Harry's thoughts as his neighbour finished his business and Harry hurriedly scrunched up the paper in his hand and, after a brief thought, slipped it into the toilet below him. A flush later and no one would ever see what was written there again.

Harry slipped back the lock on his cubicle door and stepped out, checking his watch. If he headed to the library now he'd be cutting it fine for his next class but if he waited until later he might miss his opportunity to find out what was going on. In the end Harry's curiosity got the better of him, as it so often did, and he made the decision then and there to see what Greengrass had to say.

"Geez, aren't you going to wash your hands?" The boy from the cubicle next to him, an older Ravenclaw, was watching Harry with a mildly disgusted look on his face.

"I was just blowing my nose," Harry said hurriedly, jumping to an excuse. The boy didn't look convinced, still looking at Harry suspiciously, but he didn't say anything and so Harry was able to leave the bathroom without further interruption and head up towards the opposite end of the school.

The corridors were more busy now, students preparing to travel to their next class, some of them already on their way if said class was Fortune Telling or Pokémon Care at the two extremes of the castle. In general the traffic was moving away from the library, though not at a stream that troubled Harry as he slipped inside and cautiously looked around.

A first inspection turned up nothing. Either Daphne Greengrass wasn't there or she'd taken up a place deeper into the room, perhaps down an aisle or even all the way back in the restricted section. Again doubts filled Harry's mind as to whether he should really be here, now thoughts that maybe Daphne was playing some sort of unusual joke on him to make him late for his next class. It seemed unlikely but Harry didn't know Daphne Greengrass. Maybe she just had a weird sense of humour.

"Psst, Potter," the whisper caused Harry to jump. "Act normal." Acting normal was pretty much the hardest thing she could possibly have asked of him in that moment.

He'd walked a decent way into the library, and was standing next to an aisle of books, study tables set out on his other side. No wonder he hadn't been able to spot Daphne, she had hidden herself halfway down the aisle on the opposite side of the bookcase, dwarfed by the mountains of books on either side.

"Pretend you're looking for a book," her voice spoke again. Harry glanced around, trying to appear casual, and then pulled out a book from the shelf and opened it to a random page, pretending to read.

He glanced up. A brilliant blue eye stared out at him from behind the bookshelf.

"Put the book down," Daphne ordered as Harry allowed his gaze to drop back to the book. He obeyed, closing it and slipping it back into place, obscuring Daphne once more. "Now come into my aisle. Act natural."

Harry did as he was told. He trailed his finger across a line of titles on the shelf he was standing at, halfheartedly reading them, before he meandered along to the end of the aisle and turned the corner. Glancing around lightly, ensuring no one was paying attention, he slipped into the next aisle.

Daphne was standing before him, arms crossed as she surveyed him coolly.

"So, you got my message."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You put it right in my hand," he reminded her. Daphne scowled.

"The cameras won't be able to see you here," she told him, gesturing to the bookcase to her right, through which they'd just conversed. "No one will know we're meeting."

"Unless they hear us and walk over here," Harry pointed out. Even as he said this he found his voice dropping to try and avoid such an eventuality. He didn't know what was going on but all this cloak and dagger stuff made him think it was important. "Why am I here?"

"I needed to talk to you," Daphne said simply. Harry let out an annoyed sigh.

"I know that," he said exasperatedly. "But what about? We don't speak, ever." Again Daphne scowled, though now Harry realised it was because of whatever she wished to discuss with him rather than Harry himself.

"We don't have long," Harry reminded her. "We both have Physiology, remember. People might wonder why we're both not there." That seemed to prompt Daphne forward. Whatever else she wanted she did not want people to know this conversation took place.

"I require your assistance," she told him and Harry's eyebrows rose. "My family remained neutral during the last war and the Dark Lord left us alone. I don't anticipate the same holding true this time around."

"So you believe he's back?" Harry said, seeking to clarify. "I am surprised you believe me."

"Most of the Slytherins believe you, Potter," Daphne said coolly. "You're a goody two-shoes who wouldn't know how to lie. And what with Malfoy crowing about his father's new status we have front row seats to all the evidence we need."

"You Slytherins are weird," Harry commented warily. Goody two-shoes? Was that really what they thought of him?

"I am certain Gryffindors are worse," Daphne countered. Harry couldn't exactly deny it. "Anyway, the Greengrass family will have to decide where their loyalties lie and, though it pains me to admit it, those loyalties lie with you." Harry was shocked.

"Why?" He questioned, looking at her as though she was crazy. Daphne scowled.

"Not because of any degree of confidence in your abilities I can assure you," she sneered. "But I've heard enough stories to hear what loyalty to the Dark Lord is like. I refuse to live as one of his marked followers and I even more refuse to allow Astoria to share that fate with me."

"Astoria," Harry repeated.

"My sister," Daphne said simply, answering that which wasn't exactly a question. Harry had been aware of the younger Greengrass sister but her mention by Daphne was awfully telling.

"So what do you say, Potter?" Daphne said crisply.

"I'm guessing this is your idea," Harry said in response. "Your parents, do they even know you're doing this?" Daphne looked hesitant. That was all the answer Harry needed. "How can you claim your family's loyalties for anyone if your parents don't even know about it?"

Daphne let out an agitated breath and pulled her hair roughly over her shoulders. "Then I do it for me," she said simply. "For myself and Astoria I pledge loyalty to you. I'll talk to my parents later but for now all I ask is your protection for Astoria should she need it."

"Of course," Harry said immediately. He didn't even have to think about it. He'd had mixed feelings about this meeting, naturally suspicious of anything that had a Slytherin's fingerprints all over it, but all Daphne wanted to do was protect her sister. That was something he could understand, even though he had no sister, or any family left. He would do the same for Ron or Hermione, or Sirius or Remus, or Fred, George, Neville, Ginny, Luna. And now that he'd promised it he'd do everything he could to keep Astoria, and Daphne too, safe.

Daphne was rather taken aback by his quick response. She floundered for a moment, showing a lack of composure so unusual for her. "Well, then, I'm grateful." She bowed her head slightly, perhaps out of awkwardness and an inability to think what to do. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Harry said, again automatic. "Your sister hasn't done anything wrong. Of course I want her to be safe." Daphne nodded stiffly. It seemed she was wary of a catch.

"I know loyalty is not just something I can give in name," Daphne said in a stilted tone. "My skills and abilities are yours, for whatever you may need them for." Now it was Harry's turn to feel awkward.

"Well, eh, thanks but I'm…" but then he stopped. Actually, there was something Daphne could do for him. And the puzzle pieces fell so neatly into place Harry couldn't believe his luck.

"Daphne, am I right in saying you have a Gardevoir?" He asked intently. Daphne nodded, looking slightly confused. "Excellent, well…" The bell rang.

"Damn," Harry muttered, glancing at his watch. "Okay, well, I'll explain later," he said hurriedly. "Just meet me tomorrow after dinner in the fifth year Gryffindor boy's dormitory."

"What?" Daphne asked, bewildered.

"Just teleport in with Gardevoir," Harry said quickly, aware he was running short on time. "I'll make sure the coast is clear, just be there. I'll see you later."

"Wait," Daphne said as Harry turned to leave. She held out a book. "This will help with your Physiology homework. You'll just look suspicious if you disappear down here with nothing to show for it."

Daphne, it appeared, had prepared for this meeting. Really prepared.