A/N: Here you go, I've been working mostly on AO3 (No thanks to annoying anonymous reviewers who can't take a hint)

Special Thanks for the Absol Prompt goes To: Isali (Anon)!

Remember to send me prompts!

Herald's Calling

Death was an old friend of his by the time Harry reached his fifties. The number of times he had either died or been around someone when they died had greatly out-stripped anyone else in the Wizarding World, except maybe those few Death Eaters or Dark Lord Wannabe's that were still running around. The Deathly Hallows were a blessing and a curse in this sense. He had access to the Dead, those who couldn't lie or flee from his questions, who were forced to answer. This meant that he was single-handily the most important investigator for the Aurors.

However, everyone learned quickly that, with each use of them, the Hallows took a price.

At first, it was something relatively simple. Harry and those around him when he used the Hallows grew fatigued, aching, like a bad case of the flu or a nasty cold. They recovered in a few days and were back on the trail.

Then, the price grew steeper.

His Teammates grew skittish, exhausted, easily weakened. Hair grew gray prematurely, skin wrinkled, eyes grew rheumy and cataracts bloomed. And Harry...

Harry grew stronger, healthier, his Magic grew.

And then, then the Disasters started.

Massive Storms, Earthquakes that killed thousands, the sudden re-emergence of illnesses that were somehow stronger, more deadly.

And that was just the Muggle side of things.

Magic grew Sick. Creatures began to die off or grow more violent, delirious. Squibs were born more and more often, victims of spell damage stopped responding to treatments, Potions spoiled in the cauldron, plants stopped growing.

And still, Harry remained strong, healthy, healed.

Of course, the world turned on him. Harry didn't blame them for it. He blamed himself for everything as well, although he never blamed Death. Death just Was. He/She/It didn't make Harry use the Hallows, didn't say there wouldn't be a Price, and Harry always knew that he could say no to the Ministry, to the Captain, to the Victims Families, all of whom knew there would be a price. But he didn't. He argued, he ranted, he pointed out facts that were soft, cold, warm, and hard, but he never outright said NO.

So, yes, he blamed himself. He accepted the World's decision to condemn him. Even their decision to have him put to death.

He could have done without being Burned at the Stake, however.

~(Line Break)~

Yveltal was an... interesting, aspect of Death. The red-and-black bird-dragon-creature had appeared out of the gray-void Harry had been floating in since his Execution, wrapped its large wings around him, and taken him to this... Other World. And had then sort of... Imploded? In a way?

It had thrown its wings outward, and a wave of black-purple power had erupted from its body, spreading wide in a massive miasma, before abruptly sucking back into its body, leaving Harry dizzy with an onslaught of memories, aching from his body transforming against his will, and his new... Companion, turning into a cocoon.

Staring at the cocoon, Harry sighed and laid down, taking in his strange new body, the thick white fur covering blue-black skin. His body was almost feline. He knew, vaguely, from his new memories, that he was something called an Absol, a 'Pokemon' that was known as the 'Herald of Disaster and Misfortune'.

Fitting, since that was what he'd been before.

Sighing again, Harry settled down to sleep next to the Cocoon, knowing that, when he woke, he would leave.

Yveltal would be asleep for the next thousand years, after all.

~(Line Break)~

The Region of Kalos was an interesting place. As Harry wandered the land for the next few centuries, meeting different Pokemon and People from all over, he became almost enchanted. It was similar to the first time he saw the Wizarding World before the Boy-Who-Lived hype stepped in. It was a beautiful land, bright and colorful and filled with wondrous creatures and sights.

And, yes, Harry wished, with everything he had, that his mere presence didn't bring about earthquakes or floods or landslides, but... Well, after the first few incidences where he nearly wiped out a village, Harry stuck to the deserted and mostly avoided areas...

At least, those avoided by Humans.

Sighing lowly, Harry tried to ignore the giggling forms of the "hidden" Litleo's that had been following him across the field for hours. He'd just wanted to find a nice place to sleep before the building power under his skin released the next disaster.

"They're not going to leave you alone, you know," a voice told him from a nearby tree; Harry grunted at the Fletchinder as the Fire-Type Bird Pokemon teased him.

"Then they're going to have to be prepared for me to get irritated," he replied grumpily, his fur ruffling in an invisible wind. "There's a Disaster on the horizon and it's coming up, fast," he warned the Pokemon; instantly, Fletchinder grew somber.

"I'll spread the word," he told the Absol; Harry nodded. He tried to warn the other Pokemon whenever his Power started growing so that the total number of lives lost was always small. Pokemon understood his inability to control the Disasters. It was his Nature, after all, and unchangeable. Like the way, Electric-Types would shock you and Poison-Type's would poison you. It wasn't something that you could actively prevent or even help.

Settling down with a low sigh in some thick grass, Harry closed his eyes. Absently, he heard the disappointed whines of the Litleo's as Fletchinder herded them away.

He just wanted to sleep for a little bit...

…

He woke a few hours later, and the forest and field were both in flames.

~(Line Break)~

Harry grimaced as a flaming tree fell in front of him, once again cutting off the escape route he was trying to take. The two Dedenne on his back whimpered fearfully as the Raticate protecting them gnashed her teeth. The unconscious, burned Chespin hanging from his mouth wasn't going to make it unless he got fresh oxygen soon. Grass-Types always took the most damage in Forest Fires.

"This way, Absol!" Fletchinder cried as he swooped down through the flaming branches, trying to guide the group to safety. "It's not much furth-AH!" the Bird-Pokemon cried out as a large branch fell on him, knocking him to the ground.

"Fletchinder!" Harry called out as best he could around his grip on the Chespin, leaping over a burning log and using his crescent-shaped head crest to scoop the branch away. The Fire-Type was unconscious and, with that, their only hope of getting out of the Forest Fire safely went with him. Cursing in his head, Harry carefully used his head crest to scoop the other Pokemon up and onto his back, before running in the direction Fletchinder had motioned to.

The smoke was too thick for him to see very clearly, the fire too bright and hot, and trees were constantly dropping flaming branches and falling towards the group and, soon, he was once again hopelessly lost. Snarling, frustrated, Harry paused at the next bit of clearing he could find, carefully nudging his riders to the ground. Glaring around the clearing at the ominous, deadly smoke and fire, Harry took a deep breath, grimacing at the taste of smoke and resisting the urge to cough.

"Get under me," he ordered the Pokemon behind him, who hurried to obey, Raticate helping drag the unconscious two with her until they all stood beneath his belly, his four, clawed feet bracing as he built up his power, charging the only Attack he could think of to use.

The forest is already burning, he thought as his eyes narrowed in concentration as an ominous, purple-and-black aura encased his head crest. Not much I could do to make it worse.

"Night Slash!" He bellowed, lashing out all around him. The charged Dark-Type Move erupted outwards in all directions, sending dirt and debris into the air and knocking down the trees closest to them. It also, temporarily, at least, sent all the smoke around them away. Harry paused to re-charge the attack, before using it again and again.

"Night Slash!"

"Night Slash!"

"Night Slash!"

"Night Slash!" Panting heavily, Harry stood tall, braced over the Pokemon he was protecting as the dust finally settled. A thirty-foot radius of destruction surrounded them. Uprooted trees, deep gouges in the ground, and shattered stones marked everything, along with a thick layer of dust and dirt that had managed to smother any of the flames within its reach. Faint wisps of smoke and heat smoldered on from the trees and ground, and, beneath Harry, protected by his body, the wide-eyed forms of those he had defended stared around in stunned awe.

"Remind me," Fletchinder's groggy voice muttered as he weakly struggled to sit up. "To never get... On your bad side... Absol." Harry snorted before a sudden onslaught of wind had him ducking down, bracing himself protectively once more.

"Don't Be Alarmed!" A loud voice called and, squinting up, Harry could finally make out the form of a Rescue Helicopter, a blue-haired woman in a police uniform leaning out the side and using a Megaphone. "We're here to Help!"

"Oh, look," Harry stated blandly as a man in bright red and yellow fire-fighter gear was lowered from the Helicopter. "The Humans have finally shown up."

As they were all, one at a time, lifted by harness into the safety of the Helicopter, to be taken to the nearest Pokemon Center, Harry couldn't help but stare out at the devastated forest and fields they left behind. Grim, he watched the black smoke rise, and wonder what the next Disaster would be.

A nudge at his side had him looking down, to find Chespin, an oxygen mask in place, blinking exhaustedly up at him, and Harry sighed, laying down and tucking the Grass-Type close.

He would worry about the future at a later time. Right now, he was needed.

A/N: So, do you guys think this one should be continued? IF so, it'll only have one or two more parts, but no more!