
First Steps, First Stumbles
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Chapter 8: First Steps, First Stumbles
The Pewter City gym was imposing, its rocky walls and stone pillars giving it an air of strength that weighed heavy on Draco’s shoulders. He hadn’t faced anything quite like this before. The Wizarding World’s dueling chambers felt familiar compared to this brick-and-mortar battlefield.
Charlie stood beside him, a pillar of calm. “You’ve got this, Draco. Just trust in your Pokémon.”
Draco nodded, though his heart pounded in his chest. The Pokéballs on his belt felt heavier than usual. Ralts was growing stronger, and Eevee, though new, had potential. Still, the gym leader Brock had a steely confidence that unnerved him.
“You ready?” Brock’s voice echoed across the field.
Draco steeled his nerves. “Yeah.”
The referee signaled the start, and Brock immediately sent out his Geodude, a living boulder that seemed immovable. Draco hesitated only for a second before calling out, “Ralts, let’s go!”
Ralts appeared in a flash, looking small but determined. Draco felt a surge of confidence as his Pokémon took the field.
“Geodude, Rock Throw!” Brock’s command was swift, and before Draco could react, a barrage of rocks crashed into Ralts, sending it tumbling.
Draco’s heart sank. “Ralts, Confusion!” he called, hoping to turn the tide.
Ralts focused, its eyes glowing as it unleashed its psychic energy. But Geodude barely flinched, its sturdy defense absorbing the blow. Brock’s experience showed in how effortlessly he handled the battle.
With another Rock Throw, Ralts was down. Draco felt a pang of disappointment but quickly recalled his Pokémon. “You did great, Ralts.”
He switched to Eevee, hoping the new Pokémon’s agility would give him an edge. “Eevee, Quick Attack!”
Eevee darted forward, landing a solid hit on Geodude. It was fast, faster than Draco expected, and for a moment, he felt a surge of hope. But Brock’s expression didn’t change.
“Geodude, Rock Tomb!”
Before Draco could react, the ground shifted, and large stones trapped Eevee, pinning it in place. Draco watched in helpless frustration as his Pokémon struggled, unable to escape.
The referee raised the flag. “Eevee is unable to battle. Brock wins.”
Draco stood frozen, his mind racing. He had lost—his first gym battle, his first real test as a trainer, and he had failed.
Brock approached him with a steady gaze. “You’ve got potential, but you’re not ready yet. Train harder, learn your Pokémon’s strengths, and come back when you’re ready.”
Draco nodded, too embarrassed to speak. He recalled Eevee and turned away, his thoughts a swirl of frustration and doubt. He had been so sure he could win.
Charlie’s hand rested on his shoulder, warm and reassuring. “Losing’s part of the process. We’ll figure it out together.”
Draco looked up at him, appreciating the support, but before he could reply, a familiar voice cut through the air.
“Well, that was a bit of a disaster.”
Draco turned to see Soren standing near the gym’s entrance, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. His rival’s eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and something else—something almost challenging.
Draco scowled. “What do you want, Soren?”
Soren pushed off the wall, his bold, brash demeanor practically radiating confidence. “Just thought I’d offer some help. You look like you could use it.”
Draco’s hands clenched into fists. “I don’t need your pity.”
Soren raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying Draco’s frustration. “Pity? No. But you’ve got potential, Malfoy. If you want to get serious about this, I could show you a thing or two.”
Draco glared at him, the offer stinging more than any loss. He couldn’t stand the idea of Soren looking down on him, even if there was some truth to the words. “I’ll figure it out on my own.”
Soren shrugged, unfazed. “Suit yourself. But don’t be surprised when you fall behind.” His eyes flickered briefly to Charlie before he turned back to Draco with a smirk. “See you around, Malfoy.”
As Soren left, Draco felt his frustration shift into something sharper. He wasn’t just angry at the loss—he was angry at himself for letting it happen. But Charlie’s steady presence beside him kept him grounded.
“You’ll get there,” Charlie said, his voice soft but sure. “Next time, you’ll be ready.”
Draco’s frustration bubbled over. “What makes you so sure? I just embarrassed myself.”
Charlie gave him a thoughtful look before breaking into a small, nostalgic smile. “Let me tell you something—first time I challenged a gym leader, I didn’t just lose. I was flattened.”
Draco’s brow furrowed. “You?”
“Yup,” Charlie said with a chuckle. “I was so sure my team was perfect. Had my trusty Torkoal, all fired up and ready to go. But I didn’t take the time to learn my opponent. Went up against this Water-type specialist and—well, Torkoal didn’t stand a chance.”
Draco stared at him, momentarily stunned. It was hard to imagine Charlie, who was always so confident, ever failing.
“What did you do?” Draco asked, his voice softening.
“I went back, trained harder. But more than that, I listened to my Pokémon. I figured out what they needed and made sure we were stronger as a team.” Charlie’s smile widened. “By the time we went back for the rematch, Torkoal was ready—and we won.”
Draco absorbed the story, a flicker of determination sparking in his chest. If Charlie could overcome a crushing loss, maybe he could too.
Charlie squeezed Draco’s shoulder. “You’ll get your rematch, and when you do, you’ll be ready.”