Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter or Pokemon. Well... I do own some Pokemon... I have a nice Donphan and a Tyranitar and a Aggron... nevermind.

Had you asked young Harry Potter before this day what a birthday was, you would have gotten a complex answer; you would have also gotten an answer that you didn't expect.

First and foremost, it depended on whose birthday it actually was. Were it was someone like his cousin Dudley's birthday, then Harry would have launched into great detail about the giant cakes and table groaning with presents. He would have described how as the birthday boy grew older the number of guests at these parties dwindled; it seemed that the school children in Little Surrey learned that Dudley's birthday was a day when the large boy felt he was king of the world and was allowed to do anything he wanted, without repercussion (not that he didn't already feel this way, it just got worse). Stealing others' possessions, striking little girls, threatening boys... Dudley was given carte blanche to do as he pleased on his birthday. To try and call him out on it was to end up with the heavy-set boy sobbing fake tears like a Bonsley until Aunt Petunia ran over, fretting that the mean children were picking on her poor, misunderstood Dudikins.

Harry, meanwhile, would spend those days alternating between acting as a servant to his adopted family or curled in a corner, trying to shield his vital organs as Dudley used him as a piñata.

On Harry's birthday things became radically different. There weren't cheerful calls for him to get up or great events to look forward to. It was, for the most part, just another day, save for a change in the vocal abuse he suffered. His Aunt and Uncle would go into great detail about all the things he COULD have gotten if he behaved himself and acted like a normal child. It didn't matter that all the things they listed were merely rehashes of Dudley's list... his guardians were convinced that these were the things Harry must want because Dudley wanted them and Dudley was the perfect child. If Harry didn't want them that was merely a sign of his freakish ways.

It also didn't matter that Harry never did anything wrong. Until he'd gone to Hogwarts he'd thought there must be some secret act he was performing that resulted in his aunt and uncle attacking him. It was only with time, and being around people from Avalon, that made it clear that it wasn't his fault that his aunt and uncle abused him. He didn't quite know why they felt the need to attack him... perhaps it was because he was a reminder of Lily, the one who escaped Little Surrey. Maybe it was that he shared many physical traits with his father, a man that he'd come to learn epitomized everything Uncle Vernon hated.

Until this day, Harry would have been unable to express what a birthday was suppose to be like... or, at the very least, what normal people viewed birthdays as.

"Harry, come on!"

Of course, there was really nothing 'normal' about Harry Potter or his life. He had been born during a time of war, when the forces Team Nocturne tried to take control of the region of Avalon. They believed that only those of 'pure' families should be allowed to use Pokémon. Their reasoning was a mixed bag: some were extremists that saw the suffering some Pokémon went through and joined with Nocturne out of the belief that it was misinformed and unprepared trainers who resulted in so many Pokémon being hurt. Others were from old families who believed that it was their given right to use Pokémon and the 'common folk' should never be allowed near them. Some were just sadistic nuts that liked to hurt and steal and kill.

His parents had been heroes during the war, serving as shining beacons of hope to the good people of Avalon. It was for this reason that the leader of Team Nocturne, Lord Voldemort, had sought them out and, in the end, killed them. Voldemort had struck Harry's father James down before confronting Lily Potter who, with Harry's crib to her back, engaged in a Pokémon Battle with the Head of Team Nocturne that saw both of them die.

Harry was passed to his aunt and uncle, who got it in their heads that the best way to mold him into the 'perfect Surrey boy' was the abuse him and deprive him.

It wasn't until Hagrid, the gatekeeper of Hogwarts, Avalon's elite trainer academy, had come to retrieve Harry that the boy had learned just how not 'normal' his upbringing was. Now, free from Little Surrey and the Dursleys, Harry was learning what life with a person who actually cared for him was like.

"Come on, Harry," Remus said, nudging the boy. "Don't make me sick Zorua on you."

Harry rolled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Remus Lupin was standing at the edge of his bed, a smirk on his face as he watched the now 12 year old run a hand along his face, trying to clear the crusty eye goop from his lashes. His hair, as hard as it was to believe, was an even more riotous bunch of stuck up tufts than it normally was. He groped blindly for his glasses, slipping them on and blinking his eyes like a Hoothoot.

'That's a good lad," Remus said, patting him on the back, trying hard not to get choked up; it was easy to look at Harry and see James sitting there. He could still see the boy's father waking up each day in the Gryffindor common room, his hair a mess and a teasing smile on his lips. "Come on, get yourself a quick shower then meet me downstairs for breakfast."

Harry nodded, pulling off his pajama top as he contemplated his life. Things had gone on a complete upswing the moment he had met Remus Lupin. At the Hogwarts Express Platform he had felt an instant connection with the man; he'd later learned that Remus had been the 4th person to hold him after he was born and that his father had been utterly frustrated when Remus' nickname, Mooney, had been baby Harry's first word.

Despite the connection Harry felt for him, the boy had been fearful as they made their way into Le Fay's Landing. He'd wondered if it was merely a passing thing; a reaction caused by his desires to have someone that cared for him and wanted him. What if it was merely him reaching out to someone, anyone, in a vain attempt to find a home?

Those doubts had been put to rest within the first week. Remus had been everything he could have wanted in a guardian and more. He had the right blend of stern discipline (not that Harry ever toed the line that much to find out) and playful prankster. Remus seemed to instantly know when Harry needed him nearby and when the boy needed his space. Other adults would have smothered him or given him too much space and made him feel unwanted; Remus was there at the right moments and trusted Harry enough to let him be when the boy needed a taste of freedom.

More than that, Remus did not try to force himself into one particular role. Other men might have instantly jumped in and tried to take on the role of Harry's father, or perhaps just assumed because he'd known Harry as a baby that gave him the right to act like a stern uncle. Remus did none of these things; he did not compete with James' 'ghost'. He was happy just to be Remus and Harry found that is all he needed.

Harry stepped into the shower, the hot water rolling down his neck and over his shoulders. It was such a wonderful feeling; Dudley always got to take showers first and Harry was usually left with only cold water and time limit. He wasn't one to waste the day away under the shower head, of course, but turning on the water till it was so hot it made his back beet red as pure bliss.

As he stood under the beating water he thought back to those early days with Remus. They'd spent that first night learning about each other, swapping stories and tidbits. Harry told him all about running the Gauntlet and fighting the Golurk and sneaking around the halls with Ludwig. Remus had pouted, claiming it took all the sport out of it when one was invisible.

Remus, as the man himself had explained, made his living as a Gym Tester. He told Harry about how running a Gym was difficult work, especially since they had to follow so many regulations.

"First off, they run into the issue that their Pokémon continue to gain experience when they battle each and every trainer they face."

"Well... yeah," Harry had said dumbly. That was a fundamental piece of training: Pokémon gained experience and knowledge that let them pull off better attacks and have greater stamina and health. "So?"

"So, think of it like this: your friend Ron, his dad is the Gym Leader of Tor Town, which tends to get mostly starting trainers. Their Pokémon are weak, just hatched or only a year old. It wouldn't do to have them being crushed by a mature Raticate."

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, that wouldn't be too nice."

"No, it wouldn't. Tell me, did Mr. Ollivander talk about levels with you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah... I really didn't get it but he said my Eevee was a level 5. No one else really talks about them though..."

"Most wouldn't. Levels are merely the bureaucratic way of saying how strong your Pokémon is. They were designed by a pencil pusher that was really into RPGs, if you want my opinion." Remus smirked and Harry chuckled, imagining some guy looking over his D&D sheets and using them to create Pokémon Rankings. "Part of my job is that I go and examine the Pokémon used by a Gym Leader and make sure that it is strong enough... or not too strong... to face trainers looking to earn badges. According to those bureaucrats, I am 'checking the levels of the Pokémon', which sounds like am a mechanic." Remus waved his hand dismissively. "Between you and me, the only people that care about levels are the people that create the regulations and extreme breeders like Ollivander. Me, I only use them because my boss says I have too."

"So I don't need to worry about them?"

"Only if you become a gym leader and only if you get a real snooty tester."

"What happens if the Gym Leader isn't using the right Pokémon?"

Remus shrugged. "Depends on what the issue is. If they have too weak Pokémon we give them a deadline to get their Pokémon stronger; they fail that and we assign someone to take over the Gym and run it while we review their accreditations. They might lose their license... but more likely they will just have to train really hard and receive a note in their file.

"If the Pokémon are too strong we first see if they have any Pokémon in the wings that can be brought up or a Junior Gym Leader that can take over. Not all that uncommon for Junior Gym Leaders to do the day to day battling, especially in gyms run by older families. The Longbottoms do that, for example."

"So that is what you do? Check out Pokémon and make sure they are the right fit for the gym?" Harry was intrigued; because he was going to Hogwarts he'd be able to skip the gyms if he wished and challenge the Elite Four as soon as he graduated... or enter any tournament Avalon sponsored.

"In part," Remus said. "I also make sure they are providing adequate training for the Junior Gym Leaders, that the facilities are in good repair, and investigate any reports of bias or favoritism."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in confusion.

Remus rubbed his stubbled chin. "Ok, think of it like this... let's say a gym leader doesn't like trainers that use a certain type of Pokémon? They might purposely have those trainers fight more of the Assistant Trainers, the ones that test a trainer to ensure they are ready to face the gym leader, than they should. Or maybe they set up the puzzles in their gym to be too hard."

"Or they could do the opposite?" Harry asked, chewing on his bottom lip. "Purposely give a trainer an easier time because their father is friends with the gym leader?"

"Exactly!"

Though Harry didn't say it, he knew Draco's father was someone that must get regular visits from Remus.

"I was beginning to worry that I'd have to drag you out of that shower," Remus said with a laugh as Harry hurried down the stairs. Harry had thrown on a red t-shirt with the Gryffindor logo emblazed upon it and a pair of blue jeans. Harry had gotten the shirt from Prof. McGonagall after the Gryffindor Gauntlet team had taken the Gauntlet Cup. His headmaster had been tickled pink that the cup would be resting in her office and had rewarded every member of the team with a t-shirt. Harry had worn it with pride, as it was the first thing he'd ever won. "Come on, I ordered some takeout from that Kalos restaurant you love so much."

The now 12 year old grinned as he hurried into the kitchen, seizing one of the Styrofoam boxes sitting on the table and digging into it. Remus' place was large but comfy; three bedrooms on the top floor, each with their own bath, while the downstairs had a living room, kitchen, dining room and study. Out back Remus had constructed a target range and mini obstacle course that Harry and Eevee were always playing on.

Remus had explained to Harry that he and his Zorua were pokemagnus and the training field out back allowed them to perfect their combined form. The young boy had been thrilled to hear that his father had the same talent... though he couldn't help but laugh when Remus told him that James Potter had bonded with a Deerling. The sight of the pink Pokémon left both of them giggling and the thought that his father had pranced around with flowers in his antlers had Harry snorting.

As Harry ate his birthday breakfast (pancakes, sausage, and crispy bacon) he thought about how wonderful it was to talk to someone that actually KNEW his parents. Oh, plenty of people knew OF James and Lily, but few actually knew them on a deep level. Harry had heard the legends and the folk tales and found his parents to be larger-than-life in them. When he heard his friends talk about his parents Harry couldn't help but wonder if they weren't made up, as people just couldn't be as great as James and Lily were made out to be.

It was Remus' stories, like how his mother had once shoved his father into a Muk after he'd made the mistake of saying he didn't like her new purse, that let Harry really get to know who his parents were.

Remus looked up at Harry, a bit of egg dangling on his fork as he glanced at the boy. He stared at him for a few moments, as if trying to imprint the image before him into his memory. "I... I wish they were all here to see this."

"Me too," he said quietly. Harry had come to realize that just as he needed Remus... Remus needed him. The man was barely in his thirties yet looked to be nearly 50 at times. Life had worn him down and he had buried too many of his friends. There was James and Lily, of course, their lives snuffed out in the prime of life, just when they were beginning to build their future together. The Longbottoms hadn't been as close to Remus as the Potters but their loss had hurt just as badly. Harry had tried to find out what had happened to Neville's parents but all Remus would say was that Harry needed to hear the story from Neville himself.

Remus had told plenty of stories about his time at Hogwarts. He regaled Harry with tales of The Marauders, the Gryffindor Four who had sought out high-and-mighty Slytherins and pranked them back down to Earth. Remus always tempered the stories with the warning that they had been young and stupid and thus Harry should not follow in their footsteps; the boy got the sense that Remus was ashamed of some of his actions, especially in the light of what Dudley had done to Harry.

Though the stories always brought out laughter in the older man, the joy never quite reached his eyes. Finally, two weeks back, Remus had told Harry of the fall of the Marauders. He explained what few had known: that the reason Lord Voldemort and Team Nocturne had learned of the Potters' flight to Little Surrey was because of the word of a traitor. One of the Marauders had betrayed the rest, giving up the information in exchange for power and glory. He had thrown away their friendship and their years together.

That man... was Peter Pettigrew.

When news of James and Lily's death had reached Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, he had taken it upon himself to hunt down Pettigrew. He had left Harry with the Little Surrey Police, never imagining they would turn him over to the Dursleys, and given chase after the traitor. It was believed by all, due to eye witness sightings, that Sirius and his Houndour had battled Peter in the middle of a raging storm on a high rocky cliff on the edge of Little Surrey and both trainers had plunged to their deaths. Some said that Sirius had laughed as he fell, grappling with Peter as they fell to the rocks below. Of Sirius' Houndour Remus would not speak of, but Harry had done some searches online and found ghost stories that featured him.

Of all that had fought to save Avalon, only a few remained. Some, like Albus and Remus, kept a cautious eye on the world, fearful that the remains of Team Nocturne would rise again. Others, like Harry and Neville, grew up in the shadows of their parents, wondering if they would every escape into the sun and have their own deeds shine through to the world.

Harry smiled slightly at Remus, raising his glass of OJ. "Me too... but I'm glad I have you."

"Me too, Harry, me too." Remus raised his own glass in a toast and the two continued on with their meal in silence. It was only when the last piece of bacon was consumed and the white takeout boxes were tossed in the trash that Remus finally spoke. "Well, why don't you run upstairs and get your Pokémon."

"This part of my super secret birthday celebration?"

"Of course," Remus said with a laugh. "So now hurry up and go get them, kiddo. You are only 12 once."

Harry grinned and rushed up stairs, taking them three at a time despite Remus yelling at him not to. He bounded into his bedroom, snatching his pokéball holder and grabbed his hat, his mind a whirl of thoughts and ideas for what Remus might have planned.

'Harry Potter...'

Harry whipped around, eyes wide as the voice rang through his brain. He watched as a Kadabra stepped forward from the closet where he'd been hiding in. Unlike the other Kadabras Harry had seen, this one did not move with the grace and power its species was known for. This one was jittery and jumpy, tugging on its mustache and looking about as if it expected a sudden blow to come. Its single spoon was tucked behind his ear, which twitched every time he heard a noise.

'I'm Harry,' he thought to the psychic Pokémon, wondering for a moment if this was part of Remus' surprise.

'No... not wolfie-man's surprise,' the Kadabra thought back. 'Dobby here to warn Harry Potter... Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!'

Author's Notes: And thus begins Book 2! As I have stated in the past, this story will not be a faithful retelling of the books but a look at an alternate universe where echos of the books will shine through. Already we see the first of the major changes: Remus Lupin giving Harry the home he deserves. No Dursleys, to protection wards. No reason for Harry to remain in an abusive home.

We also see the second change: the story of Sirius Black. It makes NO SENSE that in a world that has magic truth serum Sirius would have been falsely convicted. Thus, in my world, Sirius is hailed a fallen hero who defeated his archenemy and plunged into the dark abyss. A better fate than rotting in a prison.

People ask me why I choose the Pokemon I do for the characters. I thought I would talk about one each chapter. I have already dealt with Eevee and why I picked him, so we will cover Ludwig. I knew that I wanted Harry to have a well-rounded team. Harry will not focus on one type but instead will have a good, strong group of Pokemon. Ludwig came out of my desire for him to have a ghost type and a fire type. It is also such an interesting Pokemon and is my favorite of the ghost types. Plus, thanks to its new special ability I gave it, it can stand in for Harry's cloak.