Warnings: Pokemon AU, stalker Tom is creepy, fluff, mild language, pet names

Pairing: TMR/HP (Tom Marvolo Riddle/Harry Potter)

Summary: In which Harry is pretty sure his Pokémon journey isn't supposed to have such a copious amount of Zubats—or just the figurative one, since Arceus knows Tom Riddle pops up in his life often enough to be a Zubat in disguise.

Disclaimer: Pokemon is from Game Freak/Nintendo/The Pokémon Company, Harry Potter - J.K. Rowling

In the Pokemon world, it's only natural that Pokemon trainers take the spotlight. Every person in any region would always have one point in their life where they think, "I want to be a Pokemon trainer."

Not all of those dreams are meant to last, or even come true. Fate builds the strangest paths for people to walk on, after all. Regardless, wherever the future takes them, people's lives will always be tied to Pokemon.

Take, for example, the concept of the Pokemon Champion. It is incredibly misleading to think that whoever defeats the Champion becomes the Champion. How else do they have such incredibly long reigns? That word too is inaccurate; Pokemon Champions are not in any way, shape, or form kings , though they do represent their own regions in diplomatic relations.

The role Pokemon Champions take on is a fairly large one: not only do they help manage the region alongside the government, but should any disaster come forth, it is only natural that they lead the combat team to take care of that disaster. The Pokemon Champion shoulders the hopes and dreams of the people, all connected through Pokemon. There's more to being a Pokemon Champion than excelling in the arena.

They are champions of both people and Pokemon. Then, whoever takes up the mantle of Pokemon Champion could be said to support the entirety of their region upon their shoulders. Even if they are defeated in battle, in the hearts of the people they remain the Champion. As such, whoever defeats them may be granted the title of ' honorary ' Pokemon Champion—fighting at the very end of the Gym Challenge—and later should they wish, they may take up the mantle when the current steps down.

The difference between a Champion and a king lies in their nature: a king protects their subjects, and their subjects grant their king status in return. On the other hand, while a Champion may have a say in the government—and they do have certain jobs and obligations to it beyond what a normal citizen may have—their immediate responsibility is to protect the ties between people and Pokemon.

In that, they straddle a line; the government's responsibility is to the people and for the people, treating Pokemon as no better than pets. Champions, therefore, are granted certain immunities in order to fulfill their role, which may or may not go against the people's advantage in order to protect Pokemon. This line is not an easy one to walk—when they are praised, sung songs about and made odes to, the next day they can be ridiculed and villainized for doing their duty.

One Champion before Tom, the Pokemon Champion had been an old man named Albus Dumbledore. His Elite Four had been composed of Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and for the brief span of one month before Albus' retirement, Severus Snape.

The Elite Four serve as the Champion's advisors; while they too are expected to possess a prowess in battling, their role much mirrors the Champion's. As such, it had been surprising that Albus, in his old age and long reign, had to experience one of his Elite Four retiring before him—one Horace Slughorn. To further surprise, Severus Snape had been considerably younger than his fellow Four, barely an adult at the ripe age of twenty-three compared to the thirties and even forties that the other three sported.

However, upon reviewing his qualifications, no one would dare argue. Severus started his Pokemon journey at the age of ten, as was allowed under the old laws in Kanto and Johto. He then proceeded to rush through the gym battle challenge in a short span of three years, one of the unofficial fastest runs. The reason why it was unofficial is even more shocking than that—before challenging the Elite Four and Champion, there was a two year gap between collecting the badges and stepping into the Indigo Plateau.

Why there was a gap, no one knew. But by the time he recovered and won, he was fifteen years old, a month away from sixteen. Then he disappeared again, only to be found under the mentorship of a famous Pokemon Nutritionist. Due to the connections of his mentor, he was then recruited to become a member of the Elite Four at age twenty-three, though retired—as per custom—along with his Champion but a month later.

After retirement, an Elite Four member has the qualifications to do as they please. Their license remains active, which means they could go almost anywhere in their region—such as dangerous areas like Mt. Silver. Very few choose to remain with the League, having had their fill of battles for one lifetime, but some such as Minerva McGonagall become the exception.

For Severus Snape, he has chosen to settle down as a Pokemon Nutritionist. His previous reputation earned as an Elite Four combined with his genuine talent in Pokemon health and training has brought customers from other regions all seeking his advice. Contrary to popular belief, Pokemon food and nutritional care is not just for Contest participants. Any good trainer will know that their partners' diets are just as important as skills for battling.

To sustain such an active lifestyle, it is of utmost importance the Pokemon get the proper food and vitamins that match their battle methods. Pokemon that rely on speed require a different diet than a bulky Pokemon that relies on endurance to win a match. Pokemon Nutritionists, then, hold a very important place in a trainer's circle of supporters.

Severus' clients are usually high profile, though it is said that he never turns down an earnest request. As such, his customers range from Pokemon rangers, who risk their lives daily alongside their partners, to ordinary shop owners and PokeCenter nurses, all the way to trainers and coordinators.

His talent and dedication thus make it no surprise that he is close friends with the current Pokemon Champion, despite being old enough to be Tom's father. Well, Tom has never allowed himself to be put into an inferior position, so it's more likely that Severus forgets how old his friend is than looks down on him for it.

Besides, Tom is probably his only friend never mind the closest.

"Is this the visit where I finally get you to join my Elite Four?"

Severus doesn't bother turning around. He knows what he'll see—Tom will be leaning against the doorway, which is unlocked as usual, arms crossed and perpetual smirk plastered on his face. He always looks like that when he comes to visit. It's a little known fact about him, but the Pokemon Champion loves to be a vicious sort of playful—kind of like a predator who isn't quite hungry yet, playing with his prey until he works up an appetite.

...It's not always easy remembering why they're friends.

"No," Severus says, stirring his newest concoction with eyes on the temperature gauge.

Tom sighs, sounding put-upon. "That's one word I've heard too much of recently. Can't you give me a proper answer?"

"A proper answer befitting the Champion, you mean?" Severus asks. His lips curl into a sneer. "I'll give you one once you start caring."

"So not anytime soon, then? Pity."

"Is this a pleasure visit? If it is, you know I require appointments for that."

Tom laughs and steps forward, throwing himself on the closest plush sofa. Severus doesn't look, but he can hear the body collide with the cushions. Tom's purposeful lack of decorum is to annoy him.

"Get your feet off the coffee table," he orders without looking.

"I thought that was what friends were for," Tom complains. "What's the use of them if you can't even rest your feet on their coffee table?"

Severus doesn't bother rising to the challenge because he hears Tom lower his feet. "If this is a pleasure visit, go make an appointment," he repeats.

"What do you know about James Potter?"

The second the name leaves Tom's lips, Severus turns off the stove. He pivots on the balls of his feet, glaring with a chilled black gaze that could rival any veritable Ice Beam. Tom sits unperturbed, fingers laced resting on his crossed legs. They are complete opposites in that the stiffness in Severus' shoulders is absent from Tom's, and where one stare meets the other is like a brick meeting a wall.

"If you were anyone else," Severus finally says, "I'd have thrown you out by now."

"I know," Tom says, perfect picture of pleasant, "that's why I asked. If it's worth being thrown out over, that means it's good information."

Severus sighs. It's a sharp, harsh blow of air that sounds like the hiss of a dragon instead. "Wait there," he orders.

Tom smiles. "May I have some tea?"

"Make it yourself," Severus tosses over his shoulder. When Tom laughs and actually stands up to make some, Severus gives up and just lets it all happen. He thinks he'll need some tea for this talk anyway, and Moltres knows he's not in the mood to make any.

"So," the Pokemon Champion begins once they're all set, "James Potter. Don't crush your tea cup."

" First , I think I deserve to know why you want that information. I doubt it's for curiosity, and I'll tell you for nothing less but valid usage."

"Usage?" Tom raises his eyebrow. "Hm. The man's dead—I know that much, at least—so why you would want me to blackmail someone using this information is truly beyond me. You hate him so much you want to spit on his grave, too? Well, I'd give you the address to it but someone might hate me for it...besides, you probably know it anyway, don't you?"

Severus' nostrils flare. "I do," he allows. "What I will tell you is the farthest thing from a bedtime story, which I suppose you've already guessed. I will not pass this information as information to be stored away. If you want it, you must have a purpose for it."

"Severus, old friend, you want to know?"

"I expect to know," is the spat answer.

Tom shrugs. "I wouldn't be a very good stalker if I didn't know about my little Mareep's parents, now would I? By the way, your tea cup is tilted so I think you might want to put it down before you spill your tea."

Severus glances down, sees that Tom's right, and takes a sip before he follows the suggestion. He immediately backtracks as well—five seconds ago he was demanding information, now Severus wants to know if it's worth it. "Do I want to know?"

"You expect to know," Tom echoes with a wicked cackle tacked on to the end.

Of course he would come out on top. Severus wants to bang his head against a wall. This is Tom Riddle, after all. He should've known him well enough to expect some sort of twist like this.

"Alright, fine . Tom, what are you doing?"

"I'll add a question," Tom says. "What do you know about Harry Potter?"

Severus considers dumping the tea and getting something stronger from his cabinet. Instead, he sits in silence for a good minute before saying, "Not much."

"And the reason why you of all people 'don't know much' is because you don't want to know, correct?"

"I'm sick of this conversation already," Severus says in lieu of a real answer.

"Excellent," Tom says. "Well, my cute little Mareep has gotten himself into a fair bit of trouble as of late—more than usual, actually—and I was just dying to know why. So I did what I do best—I investigated a little. But really, there's nothing better than a primary resource, as I'm sure you understand, so I came here. Pleasure and business mixes rather well when that pleasure originates from the business, no?"

Severus' eyes stray lower to the plush toy hanging from his companion's belt.

"Do you want the whole story?"

"Arceus no. I want everything but the whole story," he declares.

Tom leans back, pleased. "You're his godfather."

"One of them. Substitute. In case the other one dies or something." Severus motions vaguely. "Lily loved to make backup plans. She liked to make sure she was prepared in case anything ever went wrong. It made her battles brilliant to watch—her opponents always failed to make her panic."

"And this was one plan you refused to go along with," Tom surmises. "I can respect that."

"Is he…" Severus pauses. "That's a foolish question," he mutters then, "since you're associating with him."

"He's in the hospital," Tom says. "I wouldn't have left, but his friends came and, grouped together at least, they were of adequate strength for me to leave and do a bit of digging. I don't like being caught by surprise—pleasant surprises having to do with him withstanding—so you can imagine the rush."

"I wasn't told."

"You haven't had news of him since the day his parents died. You weren't called now because one he's an adult, two he specifically asked for you not to be alerted. Imagine my surprise when he uttered the name of my good friend Severus—he was half conscious and I was so angry my Pokemon felt it in their PokeBalls. You're lucky I did my own research before coming here, otherwise you might've had to come out of retirement for an impromptu battle."

"I'm honored," Severus says without any feeling at all.

Tom continues with, "As you should be. He said, and I quote, 'Don't let Uncle Sev know. He doesn't really like me, and he'll like me even less if he knew I got into trouble again.' Your name was on his record, so I stopped them from making a call. In that, you are very lucky that I was the one who brought him to the hospital, otherwise I'm afraid your brewing might've been interrupted a week ago."

"As eloquent as ever. Yes, I suppose the disruption would've been...unwanted," Severus says. He doesn't want the alcohol anymore, he realizes—this is one conversation that should happen sober. "So you're his stalker then? Officially or self-proclaimed?"

"If you mean I have the legal documents for it—restraining orders and all—then no. But I have a collar for him, if that's what you mean. The leash he can do without—Harry isn't meant to be restrained."

"His father was the same," Severus says then. "No one thought he'd ever get married. He spat on commitment and stomped it into the ground. I suppose women would like that type."

"Even your Lily?"

Has Tom gone too far? A part of Severus thinks yes, and another part of him thinks no. He's never talked about it before—there's never been anyone to talk to, Albus perhaps being the exception but they hadn't talked that much about it. The old Pokemon Champion had a brief, friendly acquaintance with the Potters, but nothing anywhere near Severus' entangled relationship.

"Lily was better than any woman he ever hoped to find. Better than any man, too. Meeting her was a commitment in and of itself—" Severus pauses, trying to find the right words, "—To him, she was probably the type of miracle that only came around once every ten lifetimes. What do you think happened?"

It's a rhetorical question. Tom shrugs. "I'm surprised. At this point I would've thought your hate would be suffocating. Instead, all I hear is bitterness. Do you not like the tea?"

The tea has gone cold a long time ago.

"It's adequate."

Regardless, Severus drinks it.

"Why does your godson think you hate him?"

'Because I do' is the first thing that comes to mind. Severus doesn't say it. Instead, he replies with, "Not my godson. You should know that. Draco is my godson."

"You're on his contact papers."

"Sentimentality," Severus automatically answers, "he got it from his mother. In Kanto-Johto, I suppose I would be first contact. Black is in Hoenn."

"And how do you know that?"

His hand stills. "Didn't you say I know everything ?" he asks, tone half pedantic half mocking. "I might've refused to go along with her plan, but it'd be a cold day in Hell before I do Lily such a disservice. He was a happy child," Severus adds suddenly, "Lacking everything of his father. When she died she took everything of her with her."

"In your opinion," Tom remarks.

"As acrid as ever."

"But I'm not wrong. You may've known his parents better, but I know Harry better. Or do you want to argue that, old friend? Between the two of us, you might be more upset than I, but only because of the topic we're on. I'm rightfully furious. He carries a picture of you in his wallet; do you know which one? I can show you. I have it right here."

Without waiting for Severus' answer, Tom takes something out of his pocket and slides it across the table. It's a picture of them—of he, Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus, with Harry in the middle—that he knows well. At the time, he'd only gone along with it because Lily had begged him for one picture, just one of them all, and when Harry had hugged his leg and looked up at him with those same eyes, how could he say no?

' You hate me ,' James said afterwards, away from the crowd. ' Maybe I hated you too, but that was a long time ago. Now, Severus, I have nothing but the most profound respect for you. Respect, and gratefulness for the family I have today. You are not my friend, but I hope we can be someday. Thank you. For everything.'

"Well? How about it? Would you like to go see your godson?"

"He's not my godson," Severus repeats, even as he stands up and goes to fetch his Swellow.

Upon arriving at Goldenrod City's hospital, Tom leads and they bypass the front desk entirely. Severus walks just as quickly, long strides betraying his impatience and anxiety. They'd flown here in a rush, a journey that took a good six hours from Severus' current house in Cherrygrove.

When they get to the room, the door is cracked open, so Severus looks inside and sees—

"You told me he was in the hospital!" he hisses to Tom.

The Champion smirks. "He is. This is a hospital, and he's in it."

"You told me he was hurt . That the hospital was going to make a call—"

"Oh, they were. Not to you though; they were going to call a Pokemon Professor since he inhaled some poisonous gas from a Victreebell. Fortunately, I'd experienced that once before and stopped them since it wasn't actually serious. Just a bit of delirium before it clears out of the system."

"...So when you said he was half-conscious—"

"He was," Tom says, expression bright and mischievous. "From the poison. Then I knocked him out."

"...I'm leaving."

"No you're not. Smile," Tom says before he knocks on the door.

Harry, and the rest of the occupants, turn around, their immediate attention leaving the Pokemon wrapped in bandages on the bed. Clearly they'd gone to the hospital instead of the PokeCenter since there seems to have been a need for surgery—the bandages are thick and layered on, while the Noctowl's wing rests in a splint.

"Uncle Sev?!"

Harry's own arm is wrapped in bandages, though at least it's not in a cast so the wound isn't that serious. He gets up off his seat, rushes to the door and Severus knows he can't escape now. Instead, he shoots a glare at his smug friend before being assaulted by a one armed hug.

...That he hugs back, no one says a word.

"...It's not my birthday."

"I know. That doesn't mean I can't give you a gift on any day. Say, tomorrow, want to get some coffee with me?"

" Zapdos almighty… Alright, fine, just this once ."

"Ha. I've heard that one before."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, darling."

what are you talking about of course i didn't forget again