I've had this idea for a while now, and the plot bunny is bothering me, so if I post, it might go away...? Anyway, this category has way too little fics, so I thought I should contributes... updates aren't really guaranteed often though. Only disclaiming once this time: I don't own Pokémon, or Harry Potter.

What's featured: Wizard!PokémonTrainer!UnderstandsPokémonSpeech!Harry, HumanForm!Legendaries, Manipulative!Dumbledore, Random!Unimportant!OCs (appearing occasionally because I don't think the Pokémon world revolves around you and you need to talk to someone)

Enjoy the first chapter of On the Wings of Death, please!

Chapter One

The early morning of November 1st was a chilly one, cold winds sweeping throughout Surrey. A slightly-older-than-one-year-old Harry Potter shivered in the cold, its biting fingers digging into his skin.

His sleep had faded long ago, having been riddled with strange images of green light and chilling laughter. Only now, a numbness was creeping into his body. Harry shivered again, that strange numb feeling growing. A leadenness was in his body, and darkness crawled along the edges of his vision, and it was cold, so, so cold…

The darkness swept in.

Oddly, before the baby's vision faded, he caught a glimpse of something with tousled red-black hair.

~OoOoOoO~

Yveltal wandered aimlessly along the street, not even sure why he was here. He had had an argument with Xerneas earlier, he remembered, and his brother was being an annoying brat as always. The details were slightly hazy, clouded with anger, but he remembered a baby-pink light, slipping into a portal, and then waking up in an alleyway in his human form.

His dark hair, with just the slightest touch of blood red – Yveltal was quite proud of himself for managing to slip that sheen in without Arceus noticing – shifted in the wind, and he scowled. Why was it so cold?

Of course, he didn't know where he was, either. Since he had slipped through a portal – or at least he could remember doing that – he was probably in an alternate universe. Yveltal didn't know – or particularly care – about the various multiverses Palkia sometimes rambled about, usually when she was downing large amounts of alcohol in an attempt to forget arguments with Dialga. Arceus, those two argued a lot. More than him and Xerneas, definitely. There was a point she had mentioned once though. Something about… ah. There were no Pokémon in most of her multiverses. There were supposed to be some, in a fossil dimension or whatever she had called it, but Yveltal had honestly been too trashed that night to remember.

Still, because there were obviously no Hoothoot in sight – or even in hearing – and because his own senses couldn't detect anything that felt remotely like a Pokémon's aura, Yveltal guessed that he was in one of the No-Pokémon universes. Considering he was a Pokémon, that probably wasn't great news.

On the other hand, here there was no Xerneas to bother him. A wonderful thing, in his opinion. And there was the sensation of life, all around him. Another beautiful thing. He might have been the Legendary of Destruction – death was more or less tacked on to the end of that title – but it didn't mean that he couldn't appreciate the simple beauty of life, even if it was his brother's domain.

Until the life form died, of course. Then it got ugly.

Yveltal glanced at the signpost – Magnolia Crescent, it read – and then breathed in, deeply. He ignored the biting wind, focusing instead on the land, the world around him.

Life was present here, in the soft but brittle grass, in the whisper of the leaves, in the quiet cry of a bird that wasn't a Pokémon. It was there in the rattling cry of the wind, the movements of a tail, the faltering energy of a baby left on a doorstep –

Wait.

Yveltal spun, closing his eyes and focusing. There – the slowly dying aura of a child no older than two. What would a child – more like a baby – be doing on a doorstep? It was freezing, for the love of Arceus!

He sprinted towards the aura, faint alarm and curiosity tingling through him. Yveltal wasn't a general fan of humans. On the other hand, anybody who could leave a baby in the cold deserved to be paid a visit.

He skidded to a stop outside one of the houses, eyes falling on a basket with a baby boy wrapped securely inside. The tiny fingers, he noted idly, were clutching a letter written with emerald green ink. The baby's eyes were open, but they were closing fast.

The aura faltered, slowly fading. Not quite sure why, Yveltal reached out, seizing the fading fragments and forcing it back into the child's body. It was perfectly legal, he rationalised. The baby wasn't dead yet.

Leaning down, he picked up the letter, stopping when he felt something pulsing from the child. A dark, malevolent force. Yveltal could count himself an expert in dark, malevolent forces – in all technicality, he was one. It radiated from the now-sleeping baby.

Or more precisely, from the scar.

Confused, Yveltal reached outwards, gently brushing the scar with his ivory-pale fingers. Under his touch, it cracked, leaking something dark and black. He heard a distant, terrified scream, and his eyes narrowed.

Yveltal had heard those screams before. They were portions of a soul. It happened sometimes with the ghosts he tracked down – the Yamask, especially, since half their soul was the Yamask and the other half was lost to wander until the Yamask passed on.

That didn't exactly explain why somebody's soul – and if he'd felt correctly, only one-seventh – what kind of idiotic moron split their soul into seven pieces! – was inside this baby. He picked up the letter that had fallen from his grasp, turning it over to read the address.

4 Privet Drive. So that was what this place was called. He slid a finger under the seal, prising it open. Privacy wasn't something Yveltal was going to care about now. Especially considering that the recipients would have received a letter and a dead baby if he hadn't interfered.

He scanned the letter, his eyes narrowing. Whoever this Dumb person was, he sounded like the kind of human Yveltal despised. The calculating, patient ones who used pawns in the grand chess game. Those were worse than the mad, crazy people who occasionally wanted to capture him for the power of death. Far, far worse.

He eyed the letter again, before glancing down at the boy. The lightning-shaped scar, he noted, was fading. So it had been connected to the soul fragment… interesting. Did this Dumb person know? The letter had mentioned 'magic', which he suspected was one of the things Arceus had created, then dumped because it wasn't practical. Yveltal said 'dumped' because Arceus disliked killing anything. And he didn't exactly need to kill – and chucking it into a different dimension was far better because then after a few millennia he could look and see what it had turn into (and be either glad or angry at the results).

Maybe 'left' was the more precise term. Holy Giratina, he was turning into a Uxie…

He glanced down at the baby – apparently, Harry Potter - again, and felt for the first time a spark around him, in the tangled web of destiny. This boy would, somehow, change his world.

Maybe he had been worth saving. Cautiously, Yveltal focused a thin ray of his energy at the house – 4 Privet Drive. Just because he was in human form did not mean he couldn't use his powers.

He had never fine-tuned his psychic powers – not helped by the fact that he was a Dark type – but he could at least glean what people were thinking. The couple upstairs – holy Arceus, they were a couple? How in the name of Creation did a Wailord of a man and a woman with a neck like a Girafarig's get together? And their son – Yveltal almost wanted to scream. He was definitely going to become a Sharpedo in personality. And a Snorlax in weight.

He decided to not focus on the fact that a human could match a Snorlax in weight. That was just disturbing. Instead, he briefly swiped his mind across the woman's, focusing on memories of a black-haired baby – or even the baby's parent. All he got was a massive lump of emotion. More precisely, hate, fear and anger.

Very positive. Yveltal was sure Dumb – hey, it wasn't his fault the handwriting was so freaking loopy – would love to have a puppet that was broken beyond repair.

He looked at the baby in the basket. There was no doubt in his mind that the boy would be dead before five. That would definitely throw a wrench into Dumb's plans, but a death… that just wasn't fair to the boy.

He wondered what he was doing as he picked up the basket. Was he going soft?

He walked back to the street, the boy's basket in his arms. Now to open a portal back to his world… dang, he was going to have to use his destruction powers for this. Something had to power the portal. Of course, that something would die in the process… what a noble sacrifice.

Yveltal glanced back at No.4, Privet Drive. The grass in front was dying anyway, and, from what he had gleaned of the woman's thoughts, she was a neat freak. Since this boy was supposedly her nephew, who she would probably kill before he reached five, it would be a nice revenge, even though the boy wasn't going to die before five.

And, with a smirk on his face, he tugged, on the crumbling strings that kept the grass alive.

The fragile bonds snapped instantly. A swirl of dark energy escaped from the lawn as the grass turned to dust. The energy coalesced in front of him, framed against the slowly-lighting sky, and he stepped through the portal.

~OoOoOoO~

In a Scottish castle, delicate instruments started breaking. None were witness to the event.

~OoOoOoO~

Yveltal, of course, didn't expect his (slight!) miscalculation.

Slight as in, instead of stepping into one of the corridors – no one cared about that happening anyways, it happened so often – he stepped directly into Arceus' room. Which was being occupied by a rather un-amused Legendary.

Yveltal gave an 'eep!' of surprise. "Er, I'll just be going now…" He had already turned and taken five steps before…

"Why are you in your human form, and what's that in your arms?"

Gulping, Yveltal turned back, this time looking at a man in his… late twenties? Early thirties? Even when he was in human form Arceus still managed to retain a timeless element. "Well, I found him when I was in an alternate universe with no idea how I got there…?" It sounded lame even to his own ears.

Arceus' eyes bored into him. "So you decided to bring him here."

He nodded. "Yeah…?" For the love of all things, why did he sound so damned uncertain?

"I see," Arceus said slowly. "And what possessed you to do such a thing?"

Yveltal swallowed. "Because he was left on a doorstep, and had almost died when I got there?" he offered. "And because there was a part of someone's soul in him? And because there was a weird letter?"

Arceus blinked, then held out his hand. After a second of confusion, Yveltal realised what he was waiting for and handed him the letter.

Arceus skimmed it briefly before looking up. "Any other particular reason you brought him here?"

"The fact that his aunt would have killed him before he reached five helped," he blurted out.

Arceus glanced at the baby sleeping in the basket, his strange, multicoloured eyes flashing for the briefest of instants. "Ah. Well, Yveltal, there is only one thing to do, even though it is far too early for this…"

Yveltal blinked. "Sir?"

"Call a meeting."

~OoOoOoO~

By the time Yveltal rushed into the meeting hall after he rang the bell, mostly everybody was there, voices calling out or just complaining. It was an unspoken rule in the meeting hall that everyone was in human form. It saved a lot of hassle – Yveltal had forgotten how often Groudon would sit on Manaphy or Shaymin before the rule was implemented, although he definitely remembered perching on the ceiling to not get crushed under Kyogre – and, for all their faults, humans were the one living species that the legendaries held a wry respect for.

He took a seat at the table, purposefully finding a place away from Xerneas. Even if he didn't remember the argument, he was going to stay away. Thankfully, he ended up next to Darkrai – someone he respected – and Rayquaza, who was definitely more levelheaded than most legendaries. He carefully placed the basket on the table.

Before either Darkrai or Rayquaza could ask, Arceus rose, white-gold hair glinting in the artificial light.

"Welcome," he said calmly, ignoring the groans or yawns from several legendaries too tired to care. "Our reason this night is fairly unique. It is about this baby, apparently called Harry Potter."

Several legendaries – mainly the pixie-like ones, Yveltal noted – glanced up curiously, looking around for him. Then Celebi noticed the basket.

Very slowly, Yveltal noticed, her gaze travelled up, until her bright blue eyes met his own electric ones. They widened quite noticeably.

Arceus continued talking for a while, and Yveltal tuned it out, since he knew this anyway. He deliberately ignored Darkrai and Rayquaza's stares.

"…and so this meeting is to decide whether he will stay, in the care of either Yveltal or someone else, or be left in the care of humans. Is that clear?"

Yveltal blinked as his name was mentioned, before nodding along with everyone else. Once again, he ignored the curious looks directed at him. There weren't many anyway, since everyone was so bored.

"Excellent," Arceus said, probably sensing the mood. "Then here are the ground rules. No Legendary may make a point on more than one separate occasion." What a roundabout way to say everyone had one shot at making a point. "Everyone has two chances to argue another's point. Arguing with your counterpart," Yveltal's head shot up, "on a matter not relating to this topic will result in a revoking of speaking privileges," That wasn't so bad, "and a week's grounding."

Never mind. That was bad. From the way Groudon and Kyogre eyed each other, they weren't too happy with the rules.

"Are we clear? Good. I should probably mention that I will not be part of this." Yveltal blinked. But Arceus was always part of it, as arbiter. "This meeting will be run entirely by yourselves, and I certainly hope you have enough sense to not make a mess. As it is, here is the list. First speaker: Kyogre." Kyogre raised her head in surprise, her blue-black hair framing her face. "Last speaker: Regigigas." Well, nobody could understand that beeping anyway, except of course Uxie and the other golems. "Yveltal will not be participating, as he found the boy. Final judge will be Xerneas."

Yveltal almost choked as the last two sentences sank in. He wouldn't be participating – that wouldn't be too bad, considering that the pixie legendaries would almost definitely want the baby to stay because the baby was 'too cute'. But with Xerneas as judge… that just wasn't fair. Arceus did realise that they had argued recently, right?

He snuck a glance at his brother to see that Xerneas was staring at Arceus as well. The white highlights in his brother's otherwise-dark hair flickered into rainbow colours, showing Active Mode. They might have adopted a human form, but some attributes would just flicker over. Like the fairy aura from Xerneas. Which was being cancelled by his sister Zygarde right now, which was probably a good thing. Some attributes, of course, didn't flicker over. He didn't want to know what it would be like if Kyogre in human form wandered into a city and brought a rainstorm.

The problem right now was that, when Xerneas entered Active Mode, his horns usually lit up. In human form, his highlights changed colour. And when Xerneas was in Active Mode… well, Yveltal knew from experience that it meant his brother was rather pissed off.

The barely-visible soft pink glow around Xerneas wasn't helping his nerves. Geomancy just doubled Xerneas' offensive power – or rather, just doubled the amount of collateral damage, which was already massive to begin with. Yveltal felt a headache building just by thinking about it.

"Kyogre. You may begin." With those words, Arceus left, gliding away with a kind of leisurely ease. Kyogre watched him go, before rising from her seat and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"All I have to say," she said with faint distaste, "is that I don't care. As long as the boy doesn't end up in my care, he can stay." She sat down again, her eyes daring anyone to challenge her.

As if in response, Groudon rose. His dark brown eyes, with just the lightest tint of rust-red, scanned the room. "I can't believe I'm quite saying this," he murmured softly, before shaking his head. "I make the same point as the one before me did."

Kyogre almost choked, fixing him with an absolute death glare. Groudon resolutely ignored her, his cheeks tinted pink. Probably because he was agreeing with his counterpart. Maybe the world was ending.

After the period of stunned silence that always occurred when Groudon and Kyogre agreed – Yveltal actually remembered the number of times it had happened in the last millennia, exactly three times; two of those times had been about Rayquaza – Palkia stood up. Her white hair reflected far too much light for Yveltal's liking. "I make the same point as Groudon and Kyogre."

Before Palkia had even sat back down, Dialga was on his feet. "Same point as her." Yveltal noticed how he avoided Palkia's name. So they were still sour over the argument that had just reached its fourth birthday. Wow.

He glanced over at Xerneas to see the fairy become (very subtly) irritated. The only thing that gave it away was his tense posture. Something Yveltal had learned was very bad through very painful methods.

Darkrai took the opportunity to add in his two cents. "Same goes for me."

Xerneas' jaw set. Kyurem, who either hadn't noticed or just chose to ignore the danger, added, almost casually, "I agree with Darkrai."

Before the next legendary – Deoxys by the looks of it – could speak, a blast of fairy energy shot through the room. Heads turned as one to Xerneas, who stared them all down.

"The next person," he said slowly, as if talking to a child, "who's only contribution is to say that they don't want to take care of the child," his gaze darted over to the basket before returning to glare at them, "will find a Moonblast making a very, very painful mark in their face."

Yveltal instinctively winced at the reminder, images of detonating Moonblasts seared into his mind. He envied Zygarde, who for some reason had never been on the receiving end of a Moonblast. Maybe it was just because Xerneas knew Zygarde would practically murder him. Draco Meteor might have been a Dragon-type move, but that didn't mean that a bunch of flaming meteors hurtling out of the sky at supersonic speeds wouldn't affect a Fairy.

Deoxys immediately sat back down, closing his mouth. A loosely formed burst of fairy energy appeared on the back of Xerneas' hand. "Next."

Several legendaries – mainly the Dragon-types – winced at the sight of the fairy energy. For good reason, Yveltal thought. Most didn't know it – mortals certainly didn't – but Xerneas was scary when he got angry. And especially when the two highlights in his hair were changing colour so rapidly – that was the sign of a very irritated stag.

Shaymin stood up. Yveltal admired the girl's lack of fear – then again, she wasn't vulnerable to Fairy-types. And her Serene Grace Air Slashes could sometimes make even Giratina flinch. She didn't really have much of a reason to freak out.

"I think we should keep the boy," she said, her voice lilting as always. "What's the harm? Besides, it'll be a good experience. We can definitely do it better than humans. And, he's so cute…"

Xerneas allowed the fairy energy to slowly sink back into the table. "Thank you, Shaymin. Would anyone else like to contribute?"

"I agree with Shaymin!" Mew immediately said, bouncing on her seat. "It would be awesome to have someone around who can play with me! And it would be a great experience! Ooh! Can I raise him? Can I can I can I?"

Xerneas sighed. Yveltal couldn't help but enjoy the look of frustration on his counterpart's face. "Thank you, Mew. I'll take it into consideration."

That prompted a flurry of speeches and talks from the pixies – Mew, Celebi, Jirachi, Azelf, Uxie, Mesprit, Manaphy, Victini – even Diancie. Yveltal tried his best to tune it all out.

"I wouldn't mind raising him in Alto Mare," mused Latias. "It would be nice, wouldn't it Latios?"

Her brother blinked, the blue highlights in his hair glimmering in the light. "Huh? Yeah, sure we can raise him in the Secret Garden, Latias." The poor legendary looked ready to fall asleep at any moment.

There were a couple of more talks and arguments. Yveltal could barely stay awake for it. Even legendaries had to sleep.

Then, the blessed sound of beeping. Yveltal had never, ever imagined that one day he would be glad for the golems' infernal beeping, but 'last speaker' was Regigigas and he beeped. And the other golems never 'beeped' until almost the end, so that meant soon it would be Regigigas' turn and he could leave and doze off…

Uxie's mental voice cut through his thoughts and he groaned softly, the drone filling his mind. What would it take for Uxie to stop? Oh no, wait, Uxie was translator for the golems…

Something landed on his head and he felt the desire to sleep vanish. Yveltal could still feel the exhaustion, but the desire to sleep was gone. What –

He glanced up to see a round green seed nestled snugly in most drooping legendaries' heads. A second later, the seed activated and their heads all shot up. Yveltal swore softly in realisation.

Worry Seed.

Sure enough, when he glanced over at Mew, there was an amused smile on her face. He resisted the urge to blast a series of Dark Pulses at her. That wouldn't achieve anything. Instead he forced himself to pay attention.

When Uxie's monotone translation finally finished, Yveltal slumped in relief. He wasn't the only one; several legendaries had sagged onto their chairs. Even Reshiram, who was almost always able to stay alert for the meetings – how he did this was a mystery – had sank back into his chair in relief. Yveltal glanced briefly at Xerneas, who was perfectly awake. He attributed it to being the judge, because there was no way in Creation that Xerneas ever bested him at anything. Except spreading life, which he could totally match by spreading death.

"Thank you," his brother murmured, heavy sarcasm in his voice, "for staying awake throughout this." Yveltal eyed the Worry Seeds planted everywhere and snorted. Yeah, right!

"I have come to a conclusion based on all your statements." Thank Arceus. Now, please hurry up!

Xerneas' gaze suddenly darted across the room to hold his eyes for a brief instant, amusement dancing in those dark orbs. Yveltal felt a swift surge of uneasiness rise up in him.

"We will be keeping the boy, Harry Potter," Xerneas said slowly, the amusement in his eyes now clear to Yveltal. "And he will be the responsibility of Yveltal."

Yveltal froze completely. He missed the sympathetic looks from most of the male legendaries as he stared at his brother. The highlights in Xerneas' hair faded back to white as he met Yveltal's stare.

"Wait, what?" Celebi finally spluttered. "Why Yveltal! I can't even think of anybody worse suited for the job –"

Under normal circumstances he would be insulted, but now he actually agreed with Celebi –

"He brought the boy here," Xerneas said calmly, rising to his feet. Zygarde's gaze switched from watching Xerneas to glancing at Yveltal with amusement as well. Arceus, had they planned this?

Or maybe this was just revenge for whatever argument they'd had earlier. The one he couldn't remember. That definitely had to be it, this wasn't happening…

"Now, if you don't mind," Xerneas' voice cut through the haze in his brain, "I am going to take a nice, long rest. Anybody who comes into my room to wake me up before three o'clock in the afternoon tomorrow will get a painful Moonblast in the face. Anybody who wants to contest my decision can have a Moonblast as well. The same goes for anybody who attempts to disturb my rest in any shape or form. Thank you." With that, his brother turned and left, leaving a trail of stunned legendaries in his wake.

Zygarde eyed their shocked expressions for a moment before she smiled. "Have fun, Yveltal!" she called before darting out of the room.

Yveltal swallowed, trying to suppress the urge to follow her. He would just get maimed, very painfully, in the process.

Slowly, the legendaries started leaving.

Darkrai glanced at him wryly. "Well, good luck, Yveltal," he murmured, before leaving in a flurry of shadows.

"You'll need it."

Yveltal turned to see Zekrom standing behind him. She gave him a long, hard look, before shaking her head. The blue highlights in her hair blazed to life, and he braced himself for a possible Bolt Strike.

"I'm not a fan of these arrangements," she warned him, and Yveltal felt a flicker of alarm dart through him. Zekrom wasn't as scary as Xerneas, but she could – and would – deliver painful Fusion Bolts when the situation arose. "But since your brother was final judge, I can't really go against him." She eyed him quizzically, her red eyes contemplative.

"Do you have any idea why he did this?"

Yveltal considered his options before going for the truth. He could see Reshiram walking out, but Reshiram was still close enough to sense lies. The last thing he needed was to be Fusion Flare'd by an overzealous dragon. "We might have argued earlier this evening."

Zekrom's eyes narrowed. "And he left you the baby as revenge?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps."

She studied him closely, before nodding. "So you don't want the child."

"No. Do you?" The question was out before he could stop himself, and he braced himself for a painful bolt of electricity.

Zekrom's blue highlights flickered. "No," she said bluntly. "Good luck being a parent."

Before Yveltal could respond, she was gone, a flicker of electricity crackling in the air.

Yveltal sighed and picked up the basket with Harry Potter inside, ready to go back to his room and sleep for another millennia, when he was stopped, again.

"Yveltal."

Was everyone going to be bothering him? He turned and blinked, suddenly wide awake. Most legendaries ended up like that when they were spoken to by Giratina. Yveltal wasn't quite sure why, but the eldest son of Arceus did have this odd kind of charisma around him that shut sane life forms up. Insane ones, on the other hand…

Giratina fiddled with the golden links on his sleeves, the one trace of the golden bands that surrounded him in his normal form. That made Yveltal slightly nervous; Giratina was never uncertain. Or quiet.

The dark red eyes of the Lord of the Grave met his own electric ones. "You know, don't grudge Xerneas so much," he suddenly said. "You might not like his decision now, but come five, ten years' time, you'll be enjoying it." He stopped fiddling with the links. "And, maybe, it'll be good for you. Maybe then you can stop being… anti-social, and actually interact more."

Yveltal blinked. "Is this coming from the Lord of the Reverse World?" Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Giratina flushed – there was definitely something wrong with him now. "I know, I'm not that great of an example," he said wryly. "But who said I had to be the rule? This baby might just be the greatest blessing you'll find this millennium." He smiled, a very faint one. "Not that I can see into the future."

Yveltal stared at Giratina for another few long moments before shaking his head. "Something's changed you," he muttered.

"For better or for worse," agreed Giratina, before melting into thin air. Technically, Yveltal knew that he had used Shadow Force, but it still didn't make it any less impressive.

Shaking his head, Yveltal glanced at the basket cradled in his arms before turning and leaving for his room. Arceus knew that he deserved a good night's sleep.

And even if he knew it wasn't, he could still hope that the meeting had just been a dream, right?

~OoOoOoO~

When Yveltal woke up the next day, it took a while before he remembered last night's events. Or was it early morning…? The basket still resting on his bedside table – oh, was he still in human form? – was a tantalizing reminder that, unfortunately, last night had not quite been a dream.

He groaned and sank back into the bed. At least it was soft and comfortable. Please let this be a dream, he recited, even though he knew it was hopeless. Why had he even bothered in the first place? Was it what Zygarde affectionately termed 'One Good Act of the Millennia'?

Arceus, no.

As if his thought had summoned someone, the door opened. Silently, of course, but he could see it move from the corner of his eyes. Yveltal buried his face in the pillow. "Go away," he mumbled.

In response, the bed dipped under somebody's weight. Clearly in human form, which he was thankful for. He didn't want to imagine what it would be like to be crushed under someone like Groudon.

A hand lightly brushed through his hair. "I thought we all agreed to leave ruby sheens out of our hair," a voice commented in amusement.

Yveltal's eyes snapped open at the voice, sitting bolt upright. Arceus looked at him in amusement, before snapping his fingers and sending the curtains flying. Beams of brilliant white light cascaded into the room, and he winced at the brightness.

"Too bright," he complained, burying his face into his pillow.

The light faded to a slightly more comfortable glow, and Yveltal turned his head. "Yes? I'm not going to bother asking why you're in my room. Is Xerneas even awake yet?"

Arceus raised an eyebrow. "And here most of us thought that you two disliked each other," he noted. "And I'm here to talk about your new charge."

"We dislike each other, we just tolerate each other because there's no point duking it out like Groudon and Kyogre," Yveltal mumbled into the pillow. "And I asked because he said to wake him up at three. What about my new charge?"

Arceus gave a quiet laugh at that. "Three in the afternoon, I presume. As for your new charge… I'm sure you felt it in the weavings of destiny when you saved him."

"Yeah, he was going to have this great future, save the world, yada yada yada," answered Yveltal. "That's all I got."

"Close, but not close enough," said Arceus. "Actually, this boy here is destined to be the saviour of the Wizarding World."

Yveltal blinked. "That what world? Is it made up of Delphox?"

"That would be an interesting sight," mused Arceus. "But no. You are, as I am sure, aware of the existence of people with psychic powers. Well, wizards are like that, only they use a stick like one a Delphox uses to channel their powers, and it can grow far beyond simple psychic levitation."

"So… Sabrina from Kanto waving a Braixen stick around."

"If you want to think of it that way."

"And I suppose this one here also has these… er, magical powers? And he's going to grow up and save his world waving a stick like a Braixen? Well, doesn't that explain why this Dumb dude decided to dump him on a front porch in the freezing November. And I'm pretty sure the couple in the house didn't do this… magic. My memory scans aren't that awesome, but I still reckon I would have picked up on something levitating."

Arceus shrugged. "We may not know this Dumbledore's full intentions." So that was him name. Yveltal filed it away. Maybe when he died Yveltal would pay him a personal visit. "However, Harry Potter will have to return to his own world, eventually."

Yveltal barely suppressed his sigh of relief.

Arceus gave him another look of amusement. "Do not thank me just yet, Yveltal. It would not be good for his health if he returned early. Two weeks before he turns eleven, I think, would be a good time."

Yveltal nodded. "And what about him until then?"

Arceus shrugged. "Well, as much as we can do for him, the child is still human. He would be best raised under at least a human environment, if not under direct care, since it would be quite difficult to explain to them why he has powers, no? And if he is raised under a human environment, I see no reason to not let him go on a journey at ten, since that is the age set by the human international laws. Until then, he would have to be raised in a human environment… but he is also your charge…"

Yveltal waited for Arceus to continue, but when no continuation was forthcoming, he started to draw his own conclusions. "Oh, no," he said, coming to the conclusion almost immediately. "There is no way in the Reverse World that I am ever going to spend ten entire years as a human raising the boy anywhere!"

Arceus raised an eyebrow. "Oh? If I recall correctly, he is your charge. That means that you have to do what's best for him. And if that means spending a number of years in a human environment, so be it. Perhaps you will mellow out, Yveltal… and do more than just 'One Good Act of the Millennia'. It might give you an idea of what it's like to be your counterpart… not to mention that you wouldn't have to work during that time."

That was like dangling a carrot on a stick in front of a baby Buneary. So. Very. Tempting.

No no no no no no no don't do it

Yveltal sighed. "Fine. Whereabouts in the human world?"

Arceus' eyes gleamed ice-blue for a split second – the surest sign possible of becoming Ice-type – before fading back into their normal… well, Arceus didn't have a normal colour. Just a wild multicolour that suited his multi-typing.

"You could probably choose, Yveltal, considering that you're going to be taking care of him. I would suggest that, considering you would be responsible for setting him on a Pokémon journey also, you choose a starter for him to become acquainted with before he reaches ten, and make it clear to him what his future entails."

"Kalos, then," said Yveltal, deciding that if he had to suffer he may as well do it somewhere he knew well. "In… hmm, maybe that small town… Vaniville? And a starting Pokémon… well, something connected to my domain. A Dark type. Or maybe a Ghost type, since they are just a bit more common in Kalos. Perhaps a Purrloin… no, that would give the wrong impression. Maybe a Honedge? Or a Murkrow. Even an Inkay would do. Although Pawniard would be an incredible starter. Not so much the forest ghosts, though, they wouldn't do well as starters. And even if Chandelure are powerhouses they're too dangerous to raise, and that would dampen everything. Or for the royal touch, it could be Zorua…" He trailed off thoughtfully, turning to look at Arceus.

Who had vanished. A single note hung floating in midair.

Keep thinking, Yveltal. Meanwhile, you should probably consider moving to Vaniville Town… Everything's already sorted; paperwork, things like that. I'm sure you'll have a great ten years… maybe you won't even want to leave! OK, so the chances of that are slim. Dreams are important.
As for every Pokémon you listed, perhaps you should pick one that is distinctive to Kalos? Inkay would be an interesting option even if everyone starts drawing wrong conclusions, to see just how strong he is. Honedge certainly makes for a dangerous but fierce companion. Oh, and don't forget to come up with some suitable name. Change Harry Potter's as well, it would be best to make it seem distant. You two will be using those names for ten years, so it's best to start thinking! (Of course, surname is more important. After all, if you really are drained of inspiration you can just stick with Harry.) And it's only natural that he'll be able to understand Pokémon, after all it would be only fair.

In fact, you should be teleporting in about… ten or so seconds. You won't be able to come back for quite a while, so enjoy yourself while it lasts, Yveltal.

All the best ~ Arceus

The second Yveltal let go of the note, white filled his vision. It was blindingly bright; he felt as if he was staring at a thousand million suns.

Then the sunlight faded, and he landed on the ground outside a house with several giant boxes, a basket, a baby and a key.

People started peeking over the hedges.

He sighed.

Welcome to the human world, Yveltal.

Please review and thanks for reading!