Chapter One: Friendly Fire

Where in the name of Giratina am I?

Moon was pissed, which was an annoyingly common occurrence in the last few days for her.

She had been chasing after a group of Galactic sympathisers who had gotten their hands on Aether's wormhole technology. Said group had wanted to open another portal, believing that it would be the key to the perfect new universe their former leader had once envisioned. They had managed to create a wormhole before Moon could stop them, but it had been horrendously unstable and collapsed within seconds. The resulting chaos had blasted everyone—including Moon—away. Moon had fallen unconscious, and had woken up in an unfamiliar forest, the building she had stormed not anywhere close by.

She still had her bag, which contained her six most trusted pokémon, her travelling gear, and enough food, water, and healing items to last her for three months. She did not want to wander around in the woods for three months.

A shiver ran down her spine and through her arms. She pulled her thin coat around her shoulders in response. Wherever she was, it was a lot colder than Alola—then again, almost everywhere was colder than Alola.

Can't be Hoenn then. Kanto maybe? Or Johto? Definitely not Sinnoh, it's always snowing there. Maybe I'm between Kalos and Unova, the trees look the same…

Moon walked for hours, and continued her attempts to determine her location. Rotom had nothing, only giving an error response when she tried to pull up a map.

Not in any of the regions then. Neutral territory?

A part of her realized that, wherever she was, it was nowhere close to any of the towns or cities she knew. Rotom would have been able to direct her to the nearest town if that was the case. But her friend was only able to give her a few non-committal guesses about their location, as well as the occasional remark about needing to recalibrate.

Moon would be fine with wandering around for the day, or even the rest of the week, if it weren't for the fact that—no matter where she looked—she couldn't see any pokémon. There were creatures that looked like pokémon, but there was no uniformity or pattern in them. The birds, the large creatures, the small creatures, and everything else had different markings. Even if they seemed similar, there was something that separated them appearance-wise. Rotom couldn't recognize any of them, either.

Where am I?

The forest thinned out after an hour or two. She checked the sky briefly, noticing the sun hung right above her.

Midday? How long was I out?

She scoured the area. There was a series of hills in the distance, but they didn't seem promising. The young champion would have searched elsewhere if she didn't catch the sudden puffs of smoke rising into the air.

Might as well give it a shot.

Moon trekked her way over to the hills. She could hear distant laughter, shouting, and the occasional sound of firecrackers. The smoke rose into the air again, and she grinned.

When she finally made it to the top of the hill, she surveyed the town below her. It was small and oddly formed, like something out of a holiday card. She could see people milling around, wearing a variety of…

Cloaks?

Moon blinked. It was colder than she was used to, but it wasn't that cold. Cloaks certainly seemed like overkill. She shrugged, figuring that it might be traditional clothing for the area.

The young champion made her way down the other side of the hill, towards the village. There was another series of sharp cracks, followed by children running around in puffs of coloured smoke. She smiled to herself. Wherever she went, kids were always being kids, having fun with toys that they wouldn't let their own children play with in twenty years.

She stepped onto what seemed to be the main street, and looked to see if there were any shops she could duck into and ask for directions. Her eyes wandered over the signs outside the shops.

Cauldron shops? Wizard wear? Ollivanders Wands?

Moon froze, suddenly very uncomfortable with her surroundings. She hadn't thought about magic in years. Her father used to tell her stories about wizards and witches before he left. She hadn't seen him since she was eight. Other than the gifts he'd send her for her birthday or the holidays, her father had dropped out of her life.

"Excuse me miss?"

Moon turned around to see a short woman with grey hair and a battered, pointed cap on her head looking at her with a concerned expression.

"Yes?" Moon ventured, wanting to ask for directions but refraining out of politeness.

"Are you alright? You look like…"

"Like I'm out of place?" she responded with a smile, pulling her coat around her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm pretty lost, I'd say."

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile. "That's awful, dear. Any idea where you are?"

"Not really. I saw some signs saying Hogsmeade, but I've never heard of this place."

Something flickered across the kind woman's face, but Moon couldn't figure out what it was before the woman smiled again.

"How about we step inside for a moment and get something to drink? Maybe then we can figure out where you're going?"

Her voice was a bit too tight to be considered friendly. Moon had heard it plenty of times before, when she was speaking with a pesky reporter who wanted her to slip up.

"I don't think anyone here would accept any money I have on me," she brushed off.

The woman shook her head. "I'll get something for you, dear. It's no problem."

Moon opened her mouth to protest again, but the woman placed a hand on her shoulder and started to guide her to a pub. She thought she saw the woman pull something out of her pocket, and there was a flash of light behind them. Before the young girl could question it, she was pulled through the door of the pub and led to a small, secluded table.

"Back in a moment," the woman said as she went to the bar to order. Moon surveyed the room, noting that almost everyone was trying to discretely stare at her. Two were outright glaring at her. She returned a level, completely blank stare—the one that Hau had dubbed her 'Void Look'—until they became uncomfortable and returned to their drinks.

Serves them right.

The grey-haired woman returned with two frothy mugs of a strange drink Moon didn't recognize.

"Thanks," the young champion said gratefully, and cautiously took a sip from the warm glass. It tasted sweet, almost like butterscotch, and nothing like the beer Blue had once dared her to drink.

"It's alright, dear," the woman replied. "Now, I don't suppose you could tell me how you arrived here in Hogsmeade?"

"I walked here."

"From where?"

"There's this forest—or wooded area, I don't know—a fair distance away from the hills."

"And what were you doing in that forest?"

"I woke up there. Not entirely sure why."

The woman nodded. "Do you remember anything before that?"

"Err…"

Moon remembered a fair amount of what transpired—the chase, the portal, the resulting explosion—but she wasn't exactly willing to share that with a complete stranger.

"A bit."

The woman nodded again. Whether she sensed Moon's hesitancy or just figured whatever happened wasn't important enough to mention, Moon didn't know. She took another sip of her drink before setting it aside.

"Terribly sorry for my manners, ma'am," the young champion apologized, "but I never asked for your name."

"Pomona Sprout, dear. And you are?"

"Moon Blakesley," she said, extending her hand for a shake. "Nice to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise," Pomona replied, although there was a note of something—regret?—that made Moon pause.

The pub door swung shut, startling the teenager. She scanned the room quickly, and she noticed that the pub had practically emptied, save the two newcomers. She glanced towards the bar, only to see that the bartender was nowhere in sight. On top of that, the two men were walking towards their table and not the bar.

Moon turned back to Pomona, who was giving her an apologetic look.

"Sorry, dear."

She opened her mouth to ask what was going on when two flashes of scarlet light, each half a second apart, caught her off-guard. Something collided with her, knocking her back viciously. Her head collided with the wall. Pomona was yelling something, but the words became garbled by the time they reached Moon's ears. Her eyes sluggishly rolled over to where the two men and the woman were standing. It looked like Pomona was giving the verbal thrashing of a lifetime, but the sound was drowned out by an incessant humming that was growing louder with every passing second. Her eyelids began to slide shut against her will as her vision became grey around the edges.

A hand pressed against her free shoulder, and another clenched around her arm. Someone pulled her back from the wall roughly, but Moon couldn't find the strength to shrug them off. The person moved their arm around her waist and lifted her up. Her head lolled in the air until she was brought against a broad chest, held as though she were an infant. The person moved her head to rest on their shoulder. Another figure moved into Moon's rapidly fading line of sight, and she noticed the blur of grey hair that belonged to Pomona. The woman was trying to tell her something, but Moon's hearing was gone, soon followed by her vision, and finally, her consciousness.

So, this is the first story I've posted in a while. Most of the writing I have done in the past several years is crossover stories (like this one), and I've felt like none of it is ever *good* enough to post. I usually end up working on twelve other stories and forgetting what I've already written, only to find a story months later, read it, add a sentence, and then do something else.

However, this story is one I feel confident about. I have a few other chapters written and plenty of ideas to work with, so if you enjoyed the first chapter, there's more coming.

This story takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban, in case you are wondering. Some scenes in the future will be based around the events of the book. There will be plenty of alternate events and new scenes as well.

I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.

-Silver