This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokémon, which belong to the Pokémon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.

I thank both Rowling and the Pokémon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.

A/N: Hello, everyone. Welcome to the sixth instalment of my Harry Potter/Pokémon series, 'Harry Potter and the Serpent's Secret'. If you are new to this series I suggest you go visit my profile page and start off with the first instalment 'Harry Potter and the Sacred Ash'.

For those of you who have read through the previous years thank you so much for doing so. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and I hope you continue to enjoy it now.

Without further ado let's get on to the story.

It had been a long summer.

Harry Potter, now sixteen years old, had never enjoyed his time with the Dursleys at Number Four Privet Drive. But since he first found out about Pokémon and that he had been signed up to learn at Hogwarts School of Pokémon Training it had never been this hard.

Over the years the summers spent with the Dursley family were long and torturous, only made bearable by the company of Harry's Pokémon as he so desperately craved to return to the Pokémon world.

This year was different. He still had his Pokémon, they weren't leaving him any time soon, and staying at the Dursleys had been long and torturous as always. But Harry didn't want to go back. He didn't want to do anything. For just a couple of months ago Harry had been hit with a loss so great he thought he'd never be able to recover.

The ringing of the doorbell caught his attention. There was some muffled movement, Uncle Vernon moving his sizeable bulk through the house to answer it, and then a brief exclamation. Harry did not react.

Yet, admittedly, he probably should. He could make a pretty good guess at who was at the door. If it was him he was right on time.

Heavy footfalls sounded coming up the stairs and Harry rose to his feet in preparation, stepping away from his desk. Lying on the bed, curled up snugly in his blankets, Eevee lifted his head, blinking blearily at the noise. Harry sought to put his body between the door and Eevee. He was incredibly protective of the young Pokémon.

The footsteps came to a stop for a moment, Harry imagining Uncle Vernon huffing to catch his breath outside Harry's door, before a loud banging noise sounded. That roused the other occupants of Harry's room. Talonflame, perched up on Harry's wardrobe, glared at the door before sticking his head back under his wing while Pikachu hurried to jump onto the bed to stand protectively over Eevee.

Harry answered the door.

"Yes," Harry said simply. Vernon scowled.

"There's a man at the door for you," his uncle told him, looking really quite angry. "You didn't tell us any of your type were going to be visiting." It's true, he hadn't. He hadn't really cared.

"Sorry," he said simply, insincerely. Uncle Vernon could tell. If it weren't for the Pokéballs hanging from Harry's belt he might have had something to say about it, too.

"Well, go deal with him then," Vernon barked and he stomped down the stairs. Harry followed him with his eyes, watching as the large, beefy man neared the foot of the staircase and slowed noticeably, pressing himself closely to the bannister so he could keep some distance between himself and the man standing just inside the front door. Considering the difference in size it was highly comical.

The man at the foot of the stairs didn't seem amused so much as curious, watching as Vernon backed away down the hallway and ducked into the sitting room, before he turned his head to look up the stairs. He smiled.

"Harry," he said pleasantly. "So nice to see you."

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," Harry replied respectfully, beginning to walk down the stairs. "You're right on time, sir."

"Well, I do like to think of myself as punctual," Dumbledore told him. "But it seems like my appearance was something of a surprise for poor Vernon. I take it you did not warn your relatives of my impending arrival?" Harry shook his head. "Then that explains everything." Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "You are packed, aren't you?"

Harry hesitated. In truth he was half packed, half not. His summer had been spent in a state of idleness and, even after receiving Dumbledore's message that he would be collecting him from Privet Drive, he'd still struggled to bring himself to go through his possessions and pack them away in his trunk.

"Almost," he said eventually. "I just lost track of time." Dumbledore didn't look like he bought that. In any case he did not point out Harry's lie.

"Pika!"

Harry reacted in surprise at hearing Pikachu's cry, the Pokémon sounding slightly panicked, and the cry quickly made sense as he spotted Eevee stick his head out of Harry's door, which sat ajar. Eevee spotted him down the stairs and ran after him, jumping the steps one at a time before he, inevitably, tripped, tumbling down the remaining stairs and landing with a thump at Dumbledore's feet.

"Hello there," Dumbledore said kindly. Eevee's eyes widened and he quickly sprung to his feet, shooting behind Harry's legs for safety as he gazed uncertainly at the bearded man.

Harry lifted him into the air.

"It's alright, Eevee," Harry said softly, holding him up to his chest and exposing him completely to Dumbledore. "This is my Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He's a good guy." Eevee looked up at Harry questioningly, as if making sure it was alright, before he turned back to Dumbledore, still nervous but now curious too.

Dumbledore chuckled. "You know, I think I may have something for a lovely little Eevee in my pocket," he said lightly and his right hand disappeared for a moment into his pocket, only to reappear with a nice orange poffin which he held out for Eevee to sniff. At the prospect of a snack Eevee's worries vanished and he leaned forward in Harry's grasp to snaffle it up.

Harry, however, was distracted by the hand.

"Professor Dumbledore?" He said warily. He'd heard the news, Ron having phoned as soon as he'd got word, but it was different seeing it in person.

"Hmm?" Dumbledore said, distracted from watching Eevee lick the tips of his fingers as he finished off the poffin in quick time. "Oh, yes, my hand. I had quite forgotten."

Harry doubted he could simply have 'forgotten'. Dumbledore's hand did not look right at all. The skin was awfully blotchy, his veins standing out stark against his skin. It looked almost dead.

"An unfortunate encounter with an Arbok, I have to say," Dumbledore told him and Harry knew Ron's story was right.

"Nagini," he said, knowing there was only one Arbok that would be attacking Albus Dumbledore. "So you really did fight him?"

"I assume you must have heard the news from Mr Weasley or Ms Granger," Dumbledore said, not really confirming the story but giving him enough doubt that he was sure he was correct. "Don't get me wrong, Harry, I would certainly tell you the tale, but I don't think here, or now, is the place to do it." Standing at the bottom of the steps of Number Four Privet Drive Harry had to agree.

"You should go upstairs and pack," Dumbledore encouraged. "The Weasleys are greatly looking forward to your arrival." Even with his deadened state the thought of seeing the Weasleys again still put a swooping feeling through his stomach.

"Okay," he said. "Eh, you can wait…" Harry looked around hopelessly. Truthfully the only place to keep Dumbledore as he packed was in Harry's room itself. He wasn't sure he wanted his Headmaster to see what a state it was in.

"I think I will join your relatives in the Sitting Room while I wait," Dumbledore said calmly. "It has been some time since I've had the chance to speak with them."

Harry had a feeling he was missing out on something, just trying to imagine the reactions of the Dursleys as Dumbledore wandered over to the sitting room, whistling a jaunty tune as he went. Harry, meanwhile, headed upstairs, Eevee protesting slightly at being taken away from Dumbledore, the man with the treats, and went about packing up his possessions.

When it came down to it there wasn't really that much still left to pack. Truthfully, when Harry returned to the Dursleys after another school year he never really unpacked in the first place. Only the essentials, some clothes and books, and Harry's supply of Pokémon food for Talonflame, Pikachu, Eevee and Charizard. He was running low on those, so there wasn't much to put back in, and once Harry had thrown in his clothes haphazardly, promising to sort them when he got to Headquarters, he moved onto the last few items, the personal belongings.

One particular belonging gave him pause. The leather bound photo album he'd received from Hagrid after his second year always found its way to a safe place under a loose floorboard in Harry's room, as he wouldn't want to run the risk of any of the Dursleys coming across it. And as Harry pulled it from its hidey hole he couldn't resist the urge to open it. He never could.

Turning the pages of the album, undoubtedly the best gift he'd ever received, he came to a stop at a picture that was most familiar. His parent's wedding day, his mother and father beaming out at him with joy in their eyes, imagining a life together that would see them until they were old and grey.

And there he stood in the background. Sirius, the cause for Harry's state of being. Just a couple of months ago he'd been the closest thing he'd had to a family. Now he too was gone, having fallen through the Veil trying to catch his trusty Gallade. Whatever lay in wait for him there, whether it be death, Giratina, or something else, didn't matter so much as the fact that never again would he be here.

"Vee?" Harry blinked, broken from his trance as Eevee nudged his hand. The tiny little Pokémon was so young, so innocent, that he didn't really understand these things. He knew Harry was sad and tried to help. And it did help. But only the naivety of youth could believe that Harry would ever be able to get back to normal.

He shut the album with a snap. He couldn't do this to himself, not while Dumbledore was waiting for him. He dropped it quickly in his trunk and sealed it shut.

"Alright, guys, time to go," he said to the three Pokémon in the room. One by one they disintegrated into red beams of energy and were sucked back to their respective Pokéballs, leaving Harry alone, fully alone, for the first time since he'd got there. The silence was uncomfortable.

Harry descended back downstairs, dragging his trunk behind him, and even though the trunk was no doubt making plenty of noise Dumbledore did not come out to meet him. And so, leaving his trunk by the front door, Harry entered the sitting room.

"Chime!"

Harry had barely stepped through the doorway before he was noticed, not by the Dursleys or Dumbledore, but by Dumbledore's Chimecho. The psychic type Pokémon floated over to him eagerly, wrapping her tail around his arm in a familiar affectionate gesture, and let out another cheerful cry.

"Hey Chimecho," Harry smiled. It was good to see the Pokémon again. Though Chimecho was Dumbledore's Pokémon and she stayed with Dumbledore just like his Alakazam, Dragonite, and Gryffindor's Aegislash, she had come to take a liking for him, starting when they'd battled side by side to try and protect the Sacred Ash from Voldemort.

"I see you've made good time, Harry," Dumbledore commented with a smile. "Chimecho was quite desperate to see you. Had you been gone much longer she'd no doubt have gone searching for you herself."

"I missed you too, Chimecho," Harry told her. She beamed. "So, Professor, are we, eh, going?" Harry nodded towards the front door. Dumbledore's expression shifted imperceptibly.

"Not quite yet, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "I was hoping to have a few words with your aunt and uncle before we left. Please stay standing, I won't be long." Harry shifted uncomfortably. This didn't sound good.

The Dursleys seemed to be thinking the same thing. They were all sitting down, Vernon in his armchair, Petunia and Dudley side by side on the settee, and they looked as though they'd been sitting in stunned silence since Dumbledore had first walked into the room.

"So," Vernon blustered, pulling himself together and sitting up straight. "What do you have to say? Spit it out." He fixed a glare at Dumbledore, clearly attempting to intimidate him. That was never going to work.

"I was going to say that soon Harry will no longer be staying here," Dumbledore said smoothly, ignoring Uncle Vernon's bluster. "I am taking him to stay with the Weasleys for the rest of the summer and then he will return briefly next summer until his seventeenth birthday. In the Pokémon world seventeen marks the age of adulthood and on that day Harry will no longer have any requirement to stay here, and judging by what I can gather from your relationship, no reason to want to."

"Well, fine," Vernon blustered. "Good riddance. We'll be well shot of him." Vernon threw a nasty look at Harry but Harry found he didn't even care. The Dursleys had long since lost any sort of moral authority over him. It would be good riddance for him too.

"And I imagine you'll be quite pleased," Dumbledore said placidly though his voice held a certain edge to it. "What I have to say is not so much aimed at you, Vernon, for I doubt you care for Harry any more than for any other child…"

"Less, even," Harry muttered.

"… but rather I put it to you, Petunia, to take a good hard look at yourself once we've left," Dumbledore continued without pause. He fixed Petunia Dursley with a piercing look. "When I left Harry with you those many years ago I asked of you to raise Harry as though he were your own son. You did not do this. If I didn't know better I'd say you didn't even try."

"Well, why should she?" Vernon argued. "He's not her kid. That's not down to her to pick up after him."

"The lengths in which you have gone to treat Harry and your own son differently were not right, nor fair for either of the two boys," Dumbledore continued, ignoring Vernon. "In Harry it just so happens that your treatment has been outweighed by the love and acceptance of others, and the strength of will of the boy himself. For your son it will be even harder for him to heal from the burdens you've placed on him. You have, in your quest to forget your sister, taught him nothing but morals of weakness and how to live life as nothing more than a bully, and a lout."

"I say this, Petunia, because it is not too late. You can change your ways and if you truly care for your son then you should do it now, while he is still impressionable enough to learn and before his beliefs become set and unyielding." Dumbledore stood up.

"It's entirely possible that this may be the last time we meet," he said, looking down on Petunia and continuing to ignore a spluttering Vernon and a confused Dudley. "I must admit that the thought does not fill me with sadness, but for what could have been had you allowed yourself to face your past and become a better woman for it." Dumbledore stopped. He turned to Harry.

"I think it is time we head off," he said lightly, though his expression was still steely. Harry nodded mutely.

As Dumbledore walked past him towards the front door Harry looked out over the Dursleys. Vernon was apoplectic, ranting silently to himself as his face went puce. Petunia, by contrast, was as white as a ghost. And Dudley, sitting next to her and looking somewhat pale himself, looked up at Harry and nervously waved a hand. Harry nodded.

Upon leaving the sitting room he found Dumbledore waiting for him, having somehow opened the front door and carried his trunk over the threshold in the few moments Harry hadn't been looking. He waited patiently for Harry to follow, closing the front door behind him, before he reached down to his belt.

"I think the best form of transport would be teleportation, in this case," Dumbledore said, his voice now back to normal. His Alakazam appeared beside him and then, a moment later, disappeared, along with Harry's trunk. "We'll just send that ahead to the Burrow."

"The Burrow, sir?" Harry asked. "We're not staying at Headquarters?"

"No, unfortunately that isn't much of a possibility at the moment," Dumbledore admitted. "With the war now officially started the efforts of the Legion have been redoubled, as has our membership. Had you been staying there you would have found yourself horrendously out of space, and the Weasley family residence is unknown to those who would wish to attack, though security has been greatly increased."

Harry didn't believe him. While he was sure that Headquarters was busy, and that the Burrow was as safe as they could make it, Harry knew why he wasn't going back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. That's where Sirius had lived.

He didn't say anything though, appreciating Dumbledore's attempt to move past the delicate subject, and as he mused Alakazam reappeared, trunk free, and before Harry had time to blink Privet Drive disappeared from view.

Where they had arrived was not the Burrow

"I'm afraid I have not been quite truthful with you, Harry," Dumbledore said with a quiet chuckle. Alakazam had disappeared once more. "I am, of course, taking you to the Weasleys, but I do have one other stop I need to make tonight. One I believe you can be of help with. Would you mind so terribly?"

Harry shook his head, wondering what Dumbledore could be talking about. But it was Dumbledore, it couldn't possibly be dangerous. Still, as Harry fell into step beside Dumbledore his gaze fell back on his injured hand.

"So what happened with you and Voldemort?" Harry asked, somewhat boldly considering this was Albus Dumbledore he was talking too. "All I heard was that you got into a fight and were hurt."

"Well, that indeed is the most of it, if I'll be perfectly honest with you," Dumbledore admitted. "Through an incredible stroke of circumstance Lord Voldemort and myself happened to be in the same remote village in the English countryside at the same time and I was unlucky enough to spot him last. I believe his Arbok was no doubt going for the throat but my hand was an equally effective target and I was forced to make a hasty get away."

"So you didn't really fight him?" Harry questioned. He felt a bit childish thinking it but Dumbledore's story had been rather disappointing. Dumbledore smiled.

"Well, we did exchange a few blows," Dumbledore admitted. "But with Nagini being at a disadvantage against Alakazam and my health at risk should I not get medical attention immediately neither of us were in a position to try and push for victory. I had Alakazam teleport me out at the first opportunity and through Professor Snape's expertise with poisons I was in a stable condition in a matter of hours." Despite the upbeat way Dumbledore spoke Harry had to be worried by what he'd heard. "Here we are."

They'd come to a stop at a house, completely indistinguishable from the many others on the street they'd been walking, but one that Dumbledore seemed to recognise. He pushed open the gate.

"I'm sorry, sir, but where are we?" Harry asked. Though he knew Dumbledore had an errand to run this street was just as un-Pokémon as Privet Drive.

"My apologies, I should have said," Dumbledore responded politely. "This, Harry, is the charming village of Bubbly Babbington. Quiet, affluent, and without a Pokémon trainer registered in its small to middling population."

"So why are we here?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because not all Pokémon trainers are registered," Dumbledore said with a conspiratorial wink. Then he pulled up short. "Ah," he said worriedly. "That is not a good sign at all."

They had reached the front door and had found that there was one very big difference between this house and the others. The front door was ajar. Dumbledore reached out a hand and gently pushed. It creaked as it opened.

"What do you think happened?" Harry asked quietly. The house beyond was silent, and dark. There did not seem to be any movement, not even from a small breeze.

"Something bad, by the looks of it," Dumbledore muttered, gazing downwards. As Harry followed his gaze he spied a small table, lying on the floor. A porcelain ornament lay cracked a few feet away. "Stay close, Harry, and keep Charizard at the ready." And he stepped inside.

Harry followed after him silently, his hand, as instructed, grasping Charizard's Pokéball. Walking into the house nothing jumped out at him. As he stepped forward the only things he saw were more darkness. Up ahead Dumbledore walked on.

"Hmm," he said, kneeling down to the ground. Looking over his shoulder Harry noticed that the floor in the room beyond, clearly the kitchen, was strewn with cutlery, though it was hard to know just where it'd been knocked from. Had the person living here been preparing for dinner when they were attacked?

"Curious," Dumbledore muttered, straightening up again, a frown on his face. That was one word for it. "This is very unusual indeed."

"Do you think anyone is still here?" Harry asked, glancing into the dining room as he passed. "Maybe they need our help."

"Oh, I'm quite sure that there's someone here," Dumbledore said, walking past Harry and through another door, entering into a small sitting room. "And though they won't admit it they very much need my help." He looked around curiously, before nodding.

"Chimecho," Dumbledore called, the friendly wind chime Pokémon appearing beside him. "Would you be a dear and use Astonish." So politely had Dumbledore ordered the attack that Harry wasn't ready for the horrendous blast that followed. Chimecho screamed at the top of her voice, Harry clutching his hands to his ears in agony as she cried, but his biggest surprise was still to come.

"Stop! Stop! Please! I beg you!" Harry's eyes opened wide as, as though from nowhere, the figure of a man, short, plump and balding, appeared standing behind the overturned armchair, a Grumpig standing by his side and covering his ears too. Dumbledore motioned for Chimecho to calm down.

"Good evening, Horace," Dumbledore said pleasantly. Was this the man Dumbledore was looking for?

The man, Horace, huffed.

"Good, Dumbledore?" he said. "Disastrous. After all this time keeping a low profile, moving from house to house, and now you come and show up and find me just like that. How even did you know I was still here?"

"Oh, it wasn't too difficult," Dumbledore said easily. "You haven't been to many crime scenes, Horace. Your attempts to throw me off, the armchair, the knives in the kitchen, were so obviously staged, though I admit I was worried when I saw the broken porcelain figure."

"Yes, that was a mistake," Horace said regretfully. "I was in such a hurry I didn't know it was there when I tipped the table. And such a beautiful thing it was. I'll have to make sure to glue it back together, though it'll never regain its old perfection."

"It is good to know you are still the same old Horace Slughorn I have always known and loved," Dumbledore chuckled. Slughorn scowled.

"Exactly, I have not changed," he said sharply. "And I will not, I repeat, will not, return to teach at Hogwarts. I'm past it, can't deal with the pressure. Just let me enjoy my retirement."

"And such an enjoyable retirement it is," Dumbledore commented. "I assume the owners do not know you are living in their house."

"No one knows," Slughorn said, and a little proudly at that. "The people here are visiting the Canary Islands. Two weeks. Though, unfortunately, I can't let my guard down. The neighbours, you see, they'll notice my presence if I'm not careful. Can't turn on any of the lights, except the bathroom, thank goodness, and got to restrict myself to the curtained rooms at the back of the house during the daytime. It's not easy, but I manage."

"Admirably so," Dumbledore agreed. "And I have no doubt you will continue to manage, being the resourceful Slytherin that you are. But why? At Hogwarts you would have permanent living quarters, inside one of the most well-defended buildings in the country."

"And under the authority of the leader of the Legion of Ho-oh," Slughorn pointed out. "You know it's dangerous to be associated with you, Albus. People die, those who aren't as strong as some. And I know my qualities, Albus, I am not strong."

"Maybe not in a battling sense," Dumbledore agreed. "But I've always believed you to be strong of heart. After all, as Head of Slytherin House you were held up as righteous, honourable and fair to all four of the houses."

"Well, each house has their qualities," Slughorn admitted.

"And you see them," Dumbledore pointed out. "That is not a common trait, Horace, but one that makes for an excellent teacher."

There was silence for a moment, Dumbledore and Slughorn appearing to be at a stalemate as they watched each other, neither of them budging. Harry shifted uncomfortably. He really had no clue what was going on. Dumbledore, catching the movement in the corner of his eye, smiled.

"Oh, where are my manners," he said smoothly, turning to face Harry and causing Slughorn to notice him for the first time too. "This, Harry, is Horace Slughorn, an old colleague of mine who, you might have guessed, I am trying to convince to rejoin us at Hogwarts. Horace, this is Harry Potter, a soon to be Gryffindor sixth year and your student, should you accept the post." Slughorn blinked.

"Potter," he repeated. He wiped at his eyes and stared. "Good lord, so he is. He looks just like his father."

"Except for the eyes," Dumbledore commented with a smile. "In better lighting you would see that they are exactly like Lily's."

"Lily," Slughorn repeated. "Lily Evans." Harry was confused. Just what was so significant about his mum that Dumbledore had called her by her first name? It didn't seem like Slughorn was going to tell him.

"Professor Slughorn was Head of Slytherin House back when your parents were at Hogwarts, Harry," Dumbledore explained for him. "Horace has never hidden that he has his favourites and it just so happened that your mother was one of them."

"Of course I play favourites, Dumbledore, we all do," Slughorn told him off. "Just take a look at some of your students and ask if anyone could possibly like them. And you yourself, bringing the boy here."

"I am transferring Harry to some of his friends for the remainder of the holidays," Dumbledore said simply. "It just so happened my sources found you here just as I was due to collect him. Indeed, quite a coincidence." Slughorn looked like he didn't believe a word of it.

"Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" Dumbledore asked, out of the blue. Slughorn blinked.

"Eh, yes, up the stairs and to the left," he said. "You can't miss it. Just be careful with the flush, Albus, it can take awhile."

"Much obliged." And Professor Dumbledore left, leaving Harry and Slughorn standing in silence.

A/N: Thanks for reading this first chapter of Serpent's Secret. I hope you enjoyed it.

At the end of Legion of Ho-oh I asked about whether or not to continue with the question of the day feature I was using and from the responses it seems clear that none of you are too concerned about it one way or the other and only want me to do what I feel most comfortable with.

On that note I will not be continuing the question of the day in its current form. However I will endeavour to answer all the questions that were suggested over the time it has been running and if you ever have a question you'd like me to answer let me know and I'll give my opinion on it.

For this chapter I'll cover two related questions.

Question 1:

DelugeLeader 666 :- ...If you were a Pokémon, what would you be? If you wish to say why, be my guests.

For me if I had to pick a Pokémon that most accurately describes me it would have to be Abra. I am very smart, much like the psychic type, but I am also unfortunately very lazy and like my sleep more than is really practical, again much like Abra.

And for the second question.

Question 2:

DelugeLeader 666 :- ...If you were a normal type Pokémon, not including Arceus, what would you be.

For the record I would not have chosen Arceus, even if I was allowed the choice. I don't think that much of myself.

To answer the question was a little tricky as normal types have never been among my favourite but I eventually was able to land on Stantler as my answer. I don't have a particular affinity with reindeer but in the case of Stantler I like the ability it has to create illusions with its horns. I naturally like to avoid conflict in general and so I appreciate the ability to use distraction and more subtle methods to avoid aggressive encounters, even if I would be decently capable of fighting if I had to. I just much prefer diffusing a situation rather than letting it come to blows and Stantler's ability would be great for doing just that.

So those are my answers to these questions. If you would like then please feel free to leave a review with your own answers. Otherwise I'll see you all in the next chapter.