Celadon City Sins
Harry’s arms ached under the weight of his recent purchases from the PokeMart. Nurse Joy gave his Pokemon a clean bill of health to start traveling again just that morning, so he had some preparations to complete. He itched to get moving; just a few days spent sitting around while knowing that Team Rocket still operated felt like too much. Harry ran his thumb over the lightning bolt carved into his necklace. One more night, he promised, then I’ll start hunting them .
One last time, he took a slow stroll through the rarely-traveled backstreets of Cerulean City. He’d already visited the best places on the main streets, but he remembered a school friend--Neville--mentioning how amazing Cerulean’s hidden restaurants were. The Longbottoms were old family friends, and they’d traveled even more extensively than Harry’s family. If he was going to trust anyone’s opinion on the best places to eat while traveling, it would be Neville. He’d learned the hard way not to trust Draco’s recommendations.
Right around the time his arms felt about ready to fall off, he came across a cafe marketed specifically for trainers taking breaks from the road in the city. It was a casual place, with space for Pokemon to relax and eat beside their trainers and a menu of specialty Pokemon food to choose from–pricy, specialty Pokemon food. Even though Harry had frugal spending habits and a cushion of cash from tournaments and battles won while on the road, he wouldn’t be able to feed all of his Pokemon on this stuff for more than two or three days. Hermione would call it good marketing or something, Ron would call it criminal, and Draco would probably laugh at them all for considering giving their Pokemon any less.
Whatever.
Harry took a seat at a small booth in the corner of the cafe, between a table full of Hikers and another of battered, exhausted trainers who looked like they’d been through an even rougher time than Harry at Mt. Moon. A cheery waitress was at his table almost immediately, taking his order for a drink, food, and some of the gourmet Pokemon food to-go. There were messages from his family and friends on his PokeTek that he spent the twenty minutes between ordering and receiving his mountain of food responding to. He was pushing the response time his mother allowed before tracking his PokeTek and coming to speak to him in person. He really didn’t need her to see any of the lingering shabbiness from Mt. Moon that even a few days rest couldn’t get rid of.
Harry was finishing up his food when he overheard an intriguing conversation. The three battered-looking trainers were nudging at the remains of their food, discussing gossip they heard on the road. Harry ducked down and eavesdropped, not interested in trying to join their conversation but sorely lacking in the information department after spending so long in the wilderness or recovering from his recent adventures holed up in the Pokemon Center.
They were talking about Team Rocket.
~*~
Harry was bone tired and aching for a real bed to sleep in. He hadn’t battled with another trainer since leaving Cerulean City. The lack of income combined with his splurging while recovering from the incident at Mt. Moon meant he was running short on funds, so once again he was camping outside the city limits instead of in an inn somewhere, hidden safely away from bugs and rain. For the last three weeks he’d tirelessly tracked down the origins of the rumor those trainers in the Cerulean cafe discussed, but so far it seemed like a wild goose chase. He’d followed stories all over Kanto but had yet to find another clue about Team Rocket’s whereabouts.
It was really starting to piss him off.
The latest bit of information brought him to Celadon City. A friend in Fuschia City told him about a rumor: that the Game Corner was up to some underground dealings. That was all. It was a reach. Game Corners weren’t exactly known for their reputable business dealings, and this was more than likely an establishment using stolen goods as prizes or something. Unfortunately it was the only thing Harry had to work with at the moment and he was desperate. After butting heads with Team Rocket in the cave he and his Pokemon had a lengthy discussion ending in the decision that they would go after Team Rocket to put an end to their activities once and for all. The criminal empire wouldn’t get away with any more poaching or deaths under his watch.
When he told Hermione the conclusion of that particular discussion she was less than thrilled that he was choosing to go after the criminal organization that almost killed them and actually did kill several Pokemon the year before, but he couldn’t just stand by. He’d thought that blowing up their headquarters in his daring escape would stop their operations, but the assholes seemed to be back and more secretive than ever. Ron was only slightly less agitated than Hermione, and only because he knew Harry would never let it go. Still, both of them promised to keep an ear out, and both had yet to hear anything.
This was the best bet Harry had. He’d be at Celadon by midmorning, and he’d swing by the Pokemon Center to make sure his Pokemon were in top form before sniffing around.
~*~
The air of Celadon City felt different. The people walked with a burden he didn’t remember them carrying when he, Ron, and Hermione visited to challenge the gym. The three had struggled to get through the bustling streets, full of shoppers and people shouting to advertise their businesses. There was no sign of that life. Instead people were walking quickly with their heads down, hurrying from one destination to another.
Strange.
Stranger still was the quiet at the Pokemon Center. There wasn’t a single person in the lobby besides himself and Nurse Joy, despite the Pokemon Center of each town usually serving as a popular hang-out for trainers. Even her kind smile was edged with the strain of whatever tainted the air. The whole place set Harry on edge, and he found himself almost glad he didn’t have the spare cash to stay at one of the local hotels or rooms at the Pokemon Center. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with all the pressure.
When Nurse Joy finished her tests and declared his Pokemon healthy an hour later Harry hit the streets again, Vaporeon stretching her legs beside him. His Vaporeon wasn’t just a strong swimmer and expert battle companion. He raised her from an Eevee who’d had a knack for finding and hiding shiny things. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought she was a Linoon. As they kept training together she’d developed a skill for finding things people didn’t want found. Ron often joked that she was better than one of the expensive Item Finders some trainers carried around.
Harry’s only real goal for the day was to get a better look around while getting people comfortable with his existence. He didn’t know how long he’d be in town for, but the less suspicious people were of him, the quicker he’d get the information he wanted. According to Hermione. Also, it was a basic technique put in practice by Aurors on the trail of poachers. Dad and Uncle Sirius would kill him if he forgot something as elementary as that.
Shopkeepers and townsfolk didn’t bother to take a second glance as the pair passed through, clearly uninterested in another trainer looking for a meal and a few days rest. When Harry found a relatively popular restaurant that let Pokemon dine at the table, he and Vaporeon spent an hour eating a delicious but overpriced meal and listening in on the conversations around them. It was the right choice, even if Harry was out way more cash than he wanted.
Vaporeon kept chirping as she wove a complicated pattern through the streets, hot on the trail of whatever had sparked her interest while they ate. Harry kept his eyes peeled, careful to avoid bumping into anyone and giving them the chance to steal his wallet. Trainers were almost always targets of pickpockets in the back alleys of big cities like this. With his arm still regularly spasming, he wouldn’t be much use fighting off anyone trying to prey upon him.
Vaporeon didn’t stop her mad hunt until they were in an unfamiliar area. She scratched at the door of an old wood shed in the middle of an abandoned portion of the commercial district. Harry remembered hearing about some lawsuit against the building company Celadon City had employed from his mother; apparently they’d used poor quality material to cut costs and the buildings were now considered unusable by the government. With as much caution as he ever had Harry shouldered open the door, hinges less than a year old but already rusting, and took a step inside.
Even with the windows letting in light it was too dark to see much, so he tapped around on his PokeTek until it began shining. It looked like a normal building, probably meant to house supplies for the main storefront. It would have worked well to securely house extra inventory. The walls were outfitted with shelves to do just that. Unlike him, Vaporeon had a light in her eyes that she always got shortly before finding something she was hunting for.
Sure enough, just two minutes later she started pawing at one of the floorboards. Harry walked over and started tapping his knuckles against the ground. A section three boards wide sounded different from the rest.
Bingo.
Harry pulled out the pocket knife his mom slipped into his bag before he left home for the first time, the blade making a satisfying schwick in the silence. Careful as he could with a constantly trembling hand, Harry used the blade to pry the floorboards apart. The first one came up with a grunt and some effort. In the low light he took in the thin layer of dust and the dull gleam of metal. A hidden door, not unlike the door to the panic room at Draco’s ridiculously large house.
That was definitely suspicious, but how–if--it connected to the Gambling Corner he didn’t know yet. It seemed too bizarre to not be related to the other suspicious happenings in the city, but he couldn’t be sure. He was about to start prying away another floorboard to explore more, but the timer on his PokeTek went off. The reminder set to ensure he wouldn’t mysteriously disappear for too long. Normal townsfolk wouldn’t notice, but anyone dealing under the table would be watching for that kind of off-the-wall behavior. He wanted any potential members of Team Rocket seeing him where they’d be least suspecting--at restaurants and parks and camping out at night.
He’d learned to keep suspicious characters from suspecting him of suspecting them early in this mad hunt. The hard way. The bruises had just faded. So instead of pulling up another floorboard like he wanted he slipped the first one back in place and brushed the dust and dirt off his pants. Vaporeon slipped up next to him, familiar with this new routine they’d developed over the past few months, and they walked back the way they came. Draco would probably find something to criticize in their act, but Harry and Vaporeon were doing their best at faking annoyance over getting “lost” after a series of wrong turns.
He complained about getting lost in a made-up search for a relatively well-known restaurant while he sat at the crowded bar of that same restaurant. The shopkeeper on his left laughed at his misfortune while the trainer crammed up against his right related a similar situation she found herself in while walking around Vermillion for the first time. He made a good show (in his opinion) of scolding his Pokemon for leading him astray, which the matronly shopkeeper found even funnier. She recommended blowing off steam at the Game Corner, a popular place for people in the city to wind down and lose their hard earned money or strike it rich. Harry might have been overly dramatic in “thinking” about it and ultimately announcing that he would do just that, but the woman didn’t seem to find it strange.
For another agonizing hour he sat with them at the bar, exchanging stories while struggling against the increasing urge to fidget. Finally one of the people who’d been chatting with them on and off from a few seats down the bar asked around for anyone else interested in hitting up the Game Corner and Harry jumped on the chance to check things out.
The swaying and bumping into the cheery young woman wasn’t entirely an act. After so long at the bar buying people drinks and having drinks bought for him, he was more than tipsy, leaning towards being drunk. It’d been a long time since he last drank socially, so suddenly using alcohol as a tool to engage with locals and tourists alike was maybe not the best idea. He didn’t protest when the blonde slung her arm around his shoulder so they could use each other to walk more steadily. He was almost worried they wouldn’t make it when the girl pointed at the big sign and giggled excitedly. Maybe they’d had more alcohol than Harry thought.
The interior was considerably cleaner than he expected, though that might be because of the dozen or so muscled men wearing all black and watching all the players like hawks. Harry wouldn’t be comfortable losing track of his candy wrappers or cigarette butts with eyes that intense on him either.
With a tug on his sleeve the woman dragged him to the back, where several people were operating behind a counter exchanging cash for gaming tokens. Harry forked over almost all his remaining money–there was a high minimum purchase–and took the sack of false-gold coins with less enthusiasm than the giddy woman next to him.
He was being fucking robbed. Fuckers. He knew there was a reason he hated Gaming Corners.
Hopefully the Potter luck would help him win, not lose, otherwise he’d have to swallow his pride and ask his parents for money. No, he’d just live from the forest for a few weeks until he managed to trounce enough trainers to return to civilization. He hated using the family money. Maybe he’d get lucky and have the chance to take money from the crooks he came across. Team Rocket deserved it, after all. Stealing from criminals, that could hardly be considered a bad thing...Right?
~*~
Harry sat at the same slot machine for three hours, playing under constant scrutiny of Terrifying, Large Suits. He lost far more often than he won, but the wins were big enough to replace what he lost just so he could do it all over again. Honestly, Harry was as fond of arcades as the next guy, but he really wanted to be done. His eyes burned, and Vaporeon kept rubbing her nose against his leg to hide from the acrid scent of cigarette smoke. He couldn’t blame her, his nose was burning too. Shockingly enough, this particular Game Corner was not open to all ages.
After another mind numbing cycle of winning and losing, Harry noticed that she hadn’t pressed up against him in a while. When he looked down Vaporeon was nowhere to be found. It took every shred of self control he had not to devolve into a panic right then and there. If Team Rocket really was behind this place, it was dangerous for all Pokemon, even Pokemon as strong as his. Then again, taking Pokemon in such an obvious way seemed like a great way to get caught. The Game Corner wouldn’t have survived so long with such blatantly suspicious activity for the police to investigate. He kept telling himself that.
In jerky movements he shuffled the remaining coins from the machine back into the coin sack tied to his belt and stood up to survey the room. He couldn’t see very much where he was-the slot machines were pressed up tight against each other for rows, the flashing lights and thick smoke in the air not helping. He started just walking up and down every row, trying not to look like he was having a panic attack and knowing he was probably failing.
Where was she?
Harry was on the verge of yelling or crying when he saw her, sitting underneath a poster at the back of the building. He actually did start crying when he knelt down beside her and buried his face against the smooth blue scales of her neck just a few silent tears slipping down his cheeks.
“Why’d you go off on your own?”
In response she grumbled a bit and scratched at the wall. Then he felt it, the slightest breeze coming from...behind the poster? He wanted to look, but he felt the eyes of nearby Terrifying, Large Suits on them.
He remembered when he was little, his dad and Sirius taught him the things they learned from Auror training before leaving the elite government agency tasked with taking down criminal organizations like Team Rocket to start their own company when Harry was born. Lily didn’t want James getting hurt on the job with such a young child to look after, so Sirius and James set off to pursue a different passion. Still, the skills they passed on were invaluable. Harry twisted so it looked like he was just trying to find a comfortable crouching position, casing the room like they’d drilled into his head before finally letting him go off on his Pokemon Journey. Three Suits had their eyes trained on him. The one closest, a big man clearly meant to intimidate people into not cheating, was reaching for something in his waistband.
Harry didn’t want to know what it was. He kept the man in his periphery while loudly stating, “Vaporeon, you scared the shit out of me. You have to stop running off like this, it’s getting ridiculous. Come on, you’ve caused me enough trouble today.”
He returned her to her PokeBall and heaved an exaggerated sigh. He rolled his eyes for show and stormed out of the building, nothing more than an overtired trainer annoyed at a troublesome Pokemon.
Maybe he was paranoid, but he felt eyes on him for blocks. He kept up his little act until he was back in the forest outside the city limits where he’d planned to set up camp for the night. He wanted to get back into the Gambling Corner to investigate, but he doubted they would let him. And beyond that, he needed to figure out how that sketchy abandoned building was connected to the Gambling Corner. It was going to be incredibly difficult with so many eyes on him, though. He’d need to calm their suspicions before trying anything else.
Sleep. He’d sleep on it and figure out a new plan of attack in the morning.
“Oh, crap. I didn’t cash in my tokens!”
~*~
Harry woke up with Dragonair wrapped so tightly around him he could barely breathe. It took fifteen minutes to wake her and get her to relax from whatever nightmare sent her out of the safety of her PokeBall to seek him for comfort. By the time he made it back to town to scrounge up breakfast he was certain this day would suck. He had barely enough cash to cover the bun he picked up from a cramped bakery Ron told him he had to try (seeing as they’d been unable to find it when they’d been in Celadon together). He took it with him to a field of half-dead grass the people were determined to call a park and released his Pokemon so they could all eat together.
The clouds hanging overhead threatened rain and left the city even darker than it seemed the day before. Great. That boded well. When Gengar started throwing things at Typhlosion and Arcanine began chewing on plastic instead of food, Harry walked back to the Gambling Corner, all of his Pokemon carefully hidden in PokeBalls.
All he wanted was to look for a way he might get close to that poster again, and as luck would have it there stood a vital machine just a few feet away. Harry pulled out the sack of tokens and began feeding them into the exchange machine as slowly as he thought would still look natural, the plink plink plink! of the gold coins as he dropped them in the feed covering up his nervous, ragged breaths.
The eyes of the staff were a constant pressure on his shoulders, and his arm shook worse than normal as he tried to press the right buttons. It was almost as nerve wracking as studying battle strategies with Snape when he was ten. In his hurry to retrieve the paper ticket the machine spat out he almost ripped the paper. Even his uninjured hand was shaking. He just had to take the ticket to the counter for the cash owed to him. There were too many people watching for him to get any more information on the poster.
The encounter with the cold-eyed woman seemed normal enough. When he went to leave he bumped into the counter and stumbled, catching himself on the wall. Before he could even push himself away there were hands under his shoulders pushing him not-so-gently the rest of the way out the door and closing it firmly behind him.
Well, okay then. How completely shocking that his acting skills were too shitty to throw off suspicion. He really was shocked .
~*~
By the end of day two Harry had a whole lot of nothing to show for his efforts. Frustrated and unwilling to go back to his campsite just yet, he walked aimlessly through the streets. He’d tried and failed to get back into the Game Corner again, so short of some amazing disguise that transformed him from a lean, ratty haired young trainer to something else entirely, that avenue of exploration was closed to him.
This was the point in the adventure when Hermione would come up with a brilliant alternative plan that blew both him and Ron out of the water and reminded them why she’d graduated at the top of the Trainer’s School. But Hermione was all the way in Pallet Town, probably deep in research that would one day save the world as they knew it. God, he missed his friends and their alternative ideas. He was sick of his own thoughts. So, okay, what would Hermione do?
He was startled out of his thoughts by the ringing of his PokeTek. He found a spot to sit down and answered. Hermione’s face and shoulders appeared in a small holographic display projected into the air in front of him–a new feature in the PokeTek prototype his dad just sent him.
“Speak of the devil. I was just missing you.”
“Oh, Harry, I miss you too. I wish you were here working on this with me. You wouldn’t believe what Parkinson did this time!”
Harry didn’t have to say anything to encourage Hermione’s latest rant about her least-favorite fellow researcher. He’d gathered over their last dozen or so video calls that Pansy Parkinson was even worse than Harry’s rival and ex-boyfriend Draco. He hadn’t thought it was possible, but Hermione was convincing him it just might be.
Hermione ranting was almost as dead to the world as Hermione lecturing, so Harry didn’t try to interrupt this latest tangent. The sun was almost completely down by the time she ran out of things to say and instead asked about Harry’s progress hunting down Team Rocket, making sure to remind him that she still did not approve of this latest goal of his. It was comfortable to lay out for his friend everything that he’d done since their last call leading to the dead end he faced earlier.
“Well, you could always tell Officer Jenny about your suspicions. Given your track record she’d probably take the chance to listen to you. Harry! Are you even listening to me? I’m not going to think this out with you if you aren’t even going to listen,” she grouched.
But Harry wasn’t listening. Further into the small group of trees used to spruce up the park he’d chosen to rest in was a familiar redhead. Slouching more against the tree he’d been using as a backrest, Harry turned his attention from Hermione’s advice to the Team Rocket grunt he recognized from Mt. Moon.
The man was shouting into an older model PokeTek, but Harry was too far away to make out what he was saying. In the back of his head he heard Hermione calling his name, but it didn’t register. She often complained that when something caught his attention the rest of the world was lost to him, and he was falling into that mindset now.
She was in the middle of saying something when he cut her off with a curt, “Sorry Hermione, I gotta go.”
“Harry, what-”
He ended the call before Hermione could finish her sentence. She’d forgive him for hanging up on her eventually. For now he had an undercover Rocket Grunt to follow.
~*~
Harry cursed himself a third time after flopping down on his bedroll. He’d lost the Rocket Grunt in the same abandoned commercial area he’d snooped around in on the first day. He assumed that the man slipped into the building Vaporeon had sniffed out the day before, but he would have felt better seeing it with his own eyes. Something about actually following a member of the criminal organization down into the depths of whatever waited beyond that hidden door seemed smarter...and more badass. Hermione would be proud if she wasn’t ignoring him for hanging up on her.
He was too tired to jump into battle with Team Rocket without provocation. Shortly after losing sight of the Team Rocket Grunt he’d also lost all motivation to keep working for the day. He’d figure things out in the morning.
~*~
Harry woke up with a sense of impending doom. Arcanine must have sensed it too, since she was nudging him to action, practically pushing him into a standing position.
“What’s wrong?”
Arcanine looked towards the city and whined long and loud. When Harry did nothing, she picked his clothes up and pushed them against his hands. She kept pushing him until he started changing out of his pajamas.
Did Harry want to go off on an adventure with only a few hours of sleep? No. Was he going to? Obviously. He was Harry Potter, it was practically his job.
Instead of questioning Arcanine again he followed as she led him into the city, whining every few minutes. Great. Something was wrong, but she didn’t know what exactly it was. Even so, Arcanine had an uncanny ability to tell when something bad was happening, and while it almost always got Harry in trouble it was usually trouble he wanted to be in. Well, he wanted to fix the trouble, which usually meant getting into even more trouble before anything got better.
With a sigh, Harry pushed forward. His best bet was the dumpy building with the hidden door. Arcanine trailed a few feet behind him, every so often she darted forward then slowed down until she was far enough behind to repeat the process. By the time they reached the place Harry thought was the cause of Arcanine’s nervousness his own nerves were fraying. Between her erratic behavior and his own sense of wrongness , he was ready to do something to break the tension.
It was almost a relief to start dismantling the floorboards and uncover the trap door beneath. Arcanine helped Harry lift the door, the awkward positioning making it harder than it should be. There was a set of stairs leading down, and without anything else to do he started descending with Arcanine padding down beside him. At the bottom they stepped into a well-lit room, thankfully empty of anything but a table and chairs. There was nothing he could do to replace the floorboards, so he left them, hoping no one found them out of place and decided to investigate.
Arcanine’s claws echoed against the gray stone floor, making Harry jump with every step. “I love you, girl, but you are going to give me a heart attack. Return for now.”
Arcanine disappeared in a flash of red light, and Harry started walking down the corridor waiting beyond the lounge. He was getting the strangest sense of deja vu. Hopefully this time things weren’t so deadly.
~*~
Harry’s feet were tired from walking through creepy, silent corridors for the better part of an hour. There was no one here. Yet the sense that something bad was going to happen hadn’t left him. But if something was so urgent where the hell was the action?
He stared at a door that didn’t fit with the rest of the underground structure he’d been walking through. It wasn’t rickety or promising to collapse at any second, which probably meant it led somewhere not empty (at least he hoped). It also happened to be locked. And it wasn’t the kind of door you could kick open; it was meant to slide seamlessly into the rest of the wall.
On the bright side, it was made from some kind of metal.
“Typhlosian,” he called, releasing his first-ever Pokemon into the hall, “Burn a hole through the door for me.”
~*~
The regret Harry felt over leaving the empty halls hit him almost immediately. Why had he been so anxious to battle Grunt after Grunt while dead tired? This new section, which he assumed was under the Game Corner, was full of the crazies willing to work for the likes of Team Rocket. He’d already battled seven of them, going through the same numbing routine of taking down Ekans and Koffing en mass.
He was almost glad for the challenge the...scientist… before him put up. His Charmeleon was stronger than any other Pokemon Harry had battled since entering what he presumed to be one of the criminal team's newest bases, even managing to knock Arcanine out. The break from the monotony of one-hit KO’ing a bunch of poor Koffing and Ekans almost made things interesting enough for him not to regret his sleep being interrupted. Against Vaporeon, though, he didn’t stand much of a chance.
“Fine, you beat me. Take this. It’ll get you where you need to go. But I wouldn’t use it if I were you, the Boss will tear you apart.”
“Right. Well, thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll be fine.”
Harry left only after Gengar put the scientist to sleep. He wasn’t interested in talking with the crazed man again, thanks.
~*~
Tom was sick of warp tiles, idiots with almost the exact same team of Pokemon showing up at every turn, and the complete dead end he found himself facing every time he ran into an elevator. As much as he enjoyed having Dumbledore practically beg him for help managing the evildoers in his region, he wasn’t sure it was worth this much frustration.
Coming up to yet another inaccessible elevator he resisted the urge to go back to the last Team Rocket grunt he’d trounced just so he could kick him a few extra times for stress relief. Instead he settled for banging his head against the metal door of the locked elevator a few times. He’d already tried and failed to override the electronic lock with help from Dusclops and Metagross, so unless he found someone with an access key and managed to steal it, he was shit out of luck on getting any farther into the headquarters. Blaziken hadn’t been able to burn a hole through the door either.
He kept knocking his head against the door softly while debating whether he should retrace his steps and re-examine all the idiots he’d already beaten in battles for signs of a miraculous key card or if he should go down the next staircase. Or he could just go home, tell Dumbledore to deal with his own problems. If only that didn’t mean admitting defeat.
Before he could choose between the shitty options available to him, Fate took things out of his hands. Footsteps came fast around the corner as Tom’s head made contact with the cool metal once again. He wasn’t worried, it was probably just another grunt making the rounds. They weren’t strong enough to warrant real concern when traveling in groups of three or less.
“I can’t say I was expecting to run into you again,” a familiar voice rang out. The pretty boy from Mount Moon. Harry . “Especially in a dump like this.”
“Hello again, darling .” Was that a pur in his voice? He hadn’t meant to speak in a flirtatious manner or tag a pet name at the end. It must be because he’d used flirtation as a tool earlier. Yes, that was it, he was simply stuck in the roleplay. Nevermind the dozen or so things he’d said to Team Rocket that were anything but flirtatious since getting in the building.
“ Darling ?” Harry echoed, taken aback. They’d been flirty before, but when had they progressed to pet names? “Let’s not, dearest. ” Ah yes, good job Harry. Shutting down the flirting according to plan. Not! Instead of dwelling on his slip of the tongue he rushed on, “Why are you literally banging your head against a wall?”
“Oh, you know. Just relieving some stress. You must understand my frustration, battling all these...trainers.”
Harry snorted. “Trainers, right. That’s totally the term I would use.”
“I’m glad we are in agreement about the state of our enemies then.”
“Hmm” came Harry’s truly brilliant response.
“Well, I was just about to head down another floor, so…” Tom had actually planned to keep banging his head against the wall, but Harry didn’t need to know that.
“I wouldn’t bother. There’s not much left to do down there. You came from above?”
“Yes. Not much there, either. Which leaves nothing but the elevator, which I cannot yet get into.”
“Oh, here,” Harry muttered, rummaging through his pockets before dramatically pulling out a shiny black keycard. “The batty scientist said something about their Boss at the end of the elevator or something.”
Tom resisted the urge to pull his hair out as Harry slid the card through the card reader and the pad beeped a positive sound at them. He said it so nonchalant, as if it wasn’t something that had Tom ready to give up . The door clinked and slid back revealing an industrial elevator with only one button for them to press. Tom jabbed it a bit more aggressively than strictly necessary and ignored the laughter Harry failed to hide with a cough.
Sweet Arceus how slow could an elevator be?
“So I’m curious about your scar.”
“Good for you.”
“Do you have a matching Pokemon?”
Harry glared at the cold metal walls. “What the hell does that mean? Is there a Pokemon I don’t know about that looks like a lightning bolt?”
“It must be something with a personality as sparky as yours. A Raichu, I bet.”
“Sure. I have a Raichu, and you’re a beloved foreign Pokemon Champion,” Harry shot back, words laced heavily with sarcasm.
Oh , Tom thought, if only he knew. Though he was confused about how Harry could be so out of touch with foreign affairs.
Tom opened his mouth to ask just that when the elevator made a horrendous clunking noise and started moving sideways. He graciously ignored the squeak from his companion and grabbed for one of his PokeBalls in preparation for whatever laid behind the doors.
With a ridiculous ding the doors opened, and Tom felt his body tense.
~*~
Harry was both shocked and completely unsurprised by the opulence of the underground office. The room was unnecessarily large, with the same kind of expensive furnishings his grandparents' manner in Johto was full of. The dark, shiny wood of a desk set in the center of the room, the leather chairs arranged carefully before it, and the sleek computer equipment humming quietly all spoke of money frivolously spent. Blood money, Harry knew. It was all bought with endless pain and suffering.
Behind the desk sat a man Harry thought he’d never see again. Igor Karkaroff was a poorly aging man, as wrinkled as Dumbledore but 30 years younger. Harry remembered his dead eyes and the cold voice ordering him to be shocked again and again until his arm sustained long-lasting nerve damage he was still recovering from. The man starred in most of his nightmares, ordering pain for himself and his friends. Other nights Harry watched as the gnarled hands he couldn’t take his eyes off now took the life of a Kangaskhan right in front of him while he spasmed uselessly on the floor.
“Karkaroff,” he said, but it came out more like a growl. Beside him Tom tensed, though he didn’t know what the other saw to provoke that reaction. The world narrowed down to him and the old man.
At his back Tom shifted his weight, and Harry still had enough awareness to hear a PokeBall being enlarged. Someone else must be behind him. Or multiple someones. Hopefully Tom could handle them. Karkaroff would take all of Harry’s focus.
Karkaroff grinned and stood from behind the desk. As he moved closer he asked in his harsh voice, “Young Harry, tell me, how is that arm of yours? Not too painful I hope.”
“I’m doing just fine old man , but I still owe you for what you did to my friends.”
The grin only got bigger. “There’s that terrible lack of respect that earned you so much pain last time. I warned you about sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Harry barked out a laugh, almost as cold as the man before him. “I’ve been told I’m not good at following orders.”
“Nor should you take them from the likes of him,” Tom broke in. He didn’t turn away from whoever was facing him, but he hadn’t called on a Pokemon or lost track of Harry’s conversation so...hopefully it wasn’t too bad.
“I remember your youth, boy, when you were a runner for Giovanni and knew how to respect your betters. Are you jealous, Tom, that you chose a different life? You were quite the prodigy in your adventuring days, you could have easily climbed the ladder, could have so easily been the one sitting here instead of me. It would have paid better than your current-”
“So I’m more interested in how you plan to get out of here,” Harry interrupted loudly, the way he did when he wanted to break into one of Hermione’s long-winded lectures. As much as he wanted to soak up any and all information Karkaroff might have on his pretty not-stranger, they couldn’t afford it in the moment. Whoever Tom was in the past, it would kill their chances if he lost his cool because of Karkaroff’s taunts or if Harry himself started doubting him. “You always have some kind of escape plan. I know you aren’t planning on just rolling over and letting the police swoop in to arrest you.”
Harry shifted forward as Karkaroff took more steps towards him. He forced himself not to think about the jabs exchanged between the man and Tom despite the burning curiosity. He’d ask about the potentially-ruling-Team-Rocket-thing after this was over. Hopefully trusting Tom wouldn’t get him in deeper trouble.
He only saw the movement of Karkaroff’s wrist because he remembered the same move catching him off guard the last time they crossed paths. His PokeBall was enlarging in his hand just after Grindelwalds sent his own flying.
A massive Rhyhorn bellowed between them as Dragonair uncoiled into a fighting stance. The Rhyhorn charged true to its nature, and Harry thanked Arceus he’d spent so much time working with the gym trainers in Viridian City when his parents moved to Kanto. He was used to the movements of Rhyhorn.
“Aqua Tail, Dragonair!”
The heavy Pokemon slammed into one of the lavish chairs from the force of Dragonair’s attack, struggling to get back on its feet. “Hyper Beam,” he yelled at the same time as Grindelwald commanded, “Take Down.”
In a burst of unexpected speed, the Rhyhorn ducked under the blast and slammed into Harry’s Dragonair so they both crashed to the floor. Harry scrambled out of the way and yanked Tom along with him, who was apparently more interested in sending someone a message than living or paying attention to the Team Rocket Executives gunning for his head . Fucking idiot .
Harry kept up with the exchange, meeting Grindelwald blow for blow. They were both constantly moving, dodging debris from the office crumbling around them and to keep the best view of the battlefield.
Dragonair was tiring when Harry finally felt the beginnings of another battle behind him. In reality it had only been a few minutes, the Executives likely waiting for some signal from their boss and Tom likely wanting to observe their movements before engaging in a two-on-one battle. He seemed like that kind of guy.
His own battle was so fast paced he felt bad even blinking, but he sacrificed a second anyway to check on his ally. From the corner of his eye Harry spotted a familiar Milotic fighting alongside a new, and very impressive looking, Absol. That was all Harry could see before his attention was drawn back to his own battle, both Dragonair and Rhyhorn down for the count.
~*~
Tom was almost glad the two Executives started their attack when they did. While he was confident in his own ability as a trainer and had witnessed just how skilled Harry was, there was no way to tell how well their Pokemon would work together in a battle of this caliber. He’d been itching to join in and give Harry the edge he’d need to take Karkaroff down, but he’d been worried about leaving the Executives unattended while doing so. Despite not being there himself, Dumbledore had informed him just how deadly Team Rocket had become in the last few years, and Tom was loath to give them any extra openings.
Something shattered behind him and Harry cursed under his breath. Tom ordered his Milotic and Absol into action while he listened to Harry swap out his Dragonair for his Typhlosion.
The room heated around him noticeably, and he wondered somewhere in the back of his mind just how strong the fire type was to make such an impact on the space in such a small time frame. Sweat gathered on his forehead and made his shirt cling to his lower back uncomfortably. He turned his attention back to his own battle to see Nagini go flying into the wall leaving a sizable dent behind.
Shit.
~*~
Harry was exhausted. His Pokemon were struggling to keep up with Grindelwald’s. He was breathing almost as heavily as Gengar, facing up against Grindelwald’s last Pokemon, an overpowered Nidoking that had taken down Harry’s Arcanine and Vaporeon like they were hatchlings .
He was so focused on his next move he didn’t see it coming. Something to his right rammed against the wall behind him and the ceiling started caving in, material crashing down on him. Gengar abandoned the battle in favor of covering Harry’s body as the world crashed down on them and Harry lost sight of the room in a cloud of white.
“Harry!”
~*~
Tom wasn’t thinking when he ordered Skarmory into battle. It was completely out of character, but he didn’t consider the disadvantage his Pokemon was at in an enclosed space like this. He watched as Skarmory was beaten back until she slammed herself against the ceiling in an attempt to dodge a Flamethrower. The cracking drywall gave out under the pressure, already damaged from the battle. Tom shouted the bright-eyed boy’s name, but it was too late. He watched as the world slowed so he could take in, in painful detail, how Gengar abandoned the battle to stop the falling material from hurting Harry with his own body.
He ignored the Executives and Karkaroff. Panic wasn’t a familiar emotion, but he felt it wrapped tight around his throat.
~*~
Harry choked on the dust and struggled beneath Gengar’s weight. He was sure the Pokemon was hurt, though likely less injured than Harry would have been. Still, Harry hated the necessity of it.
Above him Gengar shifted and Tom grunted over...something. He still couldn’t see a thing, his glasses covered in the dust that filled his lungs. He was too busy coughing and breathing in the dust and coughing it out again to keep track of how long he stayed pinned to the ground, but eventually Tom managed to remove enough of the ceiling to free him and Gengar.
Without a word between them, his glasses left his face and returned clean, a new white smudge on Tom’s dark button-up.
“Thanks,” Harry bit out, his throat fucked from breathing in so much shit.
The structure around them rumbled.
Tom looked around for evidence of what might have happened higher up. Finding nothing he went ahead and stated the obvious, “We should get out of here.”
“Er, yeah. Lead the way.”
They traced their steps back to the highest level the elevator could reach. Stepping out, Tom’s sense of urgency skyrocketed. Harry’s face said enough about his own desire to get out of the hell hole.
They still had three floors to clear before they were free, and they’d barely made it to the staircase of the first of them when the warehouse rumbled around them again.
And.
Kept.
Rumbling.
It stopped. Harry and Tom made eye contact for a second. One stepped up that first stair, and a loud BOOM swept them both away.
~*~
Harry woke up on a hospital bed with no memory of anything after getting to Karkaroff’s office. His right arm was in a cast and his shoulder wrapped in so many bandages he could barely move it at all. His head ached, he was nauseous, and something must be wrong with his lungs ‘cause it felt like a Graveler was sitting on his chest.
He didn’t recognize his own groan, but it caught the attention of a nurse who came in and checked his vitals. She told him nothing helpful at all, saying a doctor would be in to see him soon. He needed to know how bad his injuries were. What had happened, where did Tom go, and oh, fuck , did his parents know? Or worse, Hermione?
For thirty minutes he fell deeper and deeper into worried questions he had no way of getting answers for. Either the doctor needed to explain things or someone needed to give him more painkillers so he could not think anymore. The former happened, the doctor, a greying woman who reminded him of McGonagall, explained that he’d broken and dislocated his bad arm and fractured several ribs under the force of the explosion and subsequent buildiong collapse. He had a bad concussion which accounted for his memories, which may or may not come back at some point. Fan. Tastic.
“Did you guys...did the hospital contact my emergen...ugh, did anyone callmyparents ?” He rushed out. He really, really hoped not. He did not want to deal with the smothering.
The doctor looked amused. “We couldn’t find any emergency contact information for you, sir. Your trainer identification wasn’t on your person when they brought you in. My guess is that it’s in police custody, with the rest of the things they found in the rubble. Your belongings should be returned once they have been processed.” She reached over to adjust the pillows behind him. When their eyes met again there was something mischievous in them. “Now, there is a handsome young man they found holding you in the rubble who’d been asking after you since he woke up three hours ago. Shall I let him in?”
Did she mean Tom? She must. “I guess that’s alright.”
She left and just moments later there was rustling at the curtain pulled around his bed and Tom’s face popped into his line of sight along with the scent of food. Tom dropped the tray of food he brought with him on Harry’s lap before sitting himself at Harry’s feet.
As much as Harry wanted to just dig into the food, hospital quality be damned, he couldn’t stop the words from slipping from his mouth, “I expected you to mysteriously disappear on me again.” The concussion, it was totally because he had a concussion.
“I wouldn’t dare run off on an injured damsel. Besides,” he added under his breath, “the police haven’t returned any of my things yet.”
Harry chose to ignore the last remark, focusing in on the part he found partially offensive, partially amusing, “Who says I’m the damsel in this situation? I’m sure I saved your ass at some point.”
“I don’t remember any such thing,” he snarked back, not quite mean, though definitely meant to poke at Harry’s lost memory. How had he even known? Had the doctor said something? Harry changed his mind if that was the case, he didn’t like her.
“I don’t recall you doing any better.”
“I, being the genius I am, called in the police while you were battling. Otherwise we would have been trapped down there much longer than we were. Might have even died in the fire. As it is, we didn't even get burned. I’d call that a successful rescue.”
“I’d credit the police for that, not you. Sending a message isn’t very heroic, and if I’m a damsel I insist upon my savior being the hero type.”
“Good to know for next time, darling.”
“Are you going to keep up with the pet names?”
“Does it bother you?”
“Somewhat.”
“Then yes, dearest Harry, I will be ‘keeping up’ with the pet names.”
Harry groaned. “So, did your calling the police lead to any helpful arrests?”
“Unfortunately no. Some grunts, but Karkaroff and his Executives got away while I was getting the collapsed ceiling off you. The first time.”
The other part of the conversation hit Harry then and he groaned. “Wait, go back a second. What fire?”
“We were battling the elite of Team Rocket down in the office, you remember?”
“Vaguely.”
“Well, due to a series of unfortunate events the ceiling collapsed on you. While I dug you out the three we were battling got away. We high-tailed it out of there when the underground warehouse started shaking and rolling like an earthquake, only there’s no volcanoes or tectonic plates to warrant earthquake activity in the area. Seemed like a good idea to get the hell out. We made it most of the way before the Electrode Team Rocket were using to power their grid Exploded and brought the whole place down. My sources say that Team Rocket grunts started agitating them around the same time Karkaroff fled.”
“Your sources? What are you, an Auror? Scratch that, I don’t think you have the patience to complete Auror training, let alone the humility to be a nameless figure in the mission to end Pokemon poaching and other similar atrocities.”
“Should I be offended?”
“I meant it as an insult, so yeah.”
“How you hurt me, darling.”
“If you plan on annoying me, you should just disappear into thin air like last time.”
They were both silent, Harry spooning broth into his mouth.
“What happened…” Harry trailed off and was quiet for a minute, unsure if he could take the answer. He needed to hear it, whatever it was, he decided. “What happened to the Electrode?”
Tom actually looked sad, and Harry wished he hadn’t asked if only to prevent the emotion from touching the beautiful face. “They were overstimulated by whatever Team Rocket did to encourage their Explosion. They overexerted themselves with the attack, and Nurse Joy pronounced them dead on arrival.”
Just like Kangaskhan.
“I’m going to make them pay for it.”
Tom only hummed and leaned in. Harry was too shocked to do anything other than stare as Tom kissed him on the forehead and left without another word.
“Great, that cleared everything up,” Harry told the air exasperatedly and flopped back down on the bed. He needed to convince the doctor to discharge him so he could go check up on his Pokemon.