Hello, and welcome to Harry Potter and the Jewel of Life. Ever since Mr Chaos dropped the bomb about Voldy being a Spiritomb, I temporarily gave up on my own recreation of the HP/Pokémon universe. But then the ideas I had about this fic started growing once more and I just couldn't let them stay in my head.

Anyway, this is the result of those ideas! Like Mr Chaos', this won't be an exact adaptation of the books. There will be plot twists, new friends, enemies, deaths, etc. Nothing major.

While most of the ideas are my own, I will admit that some of them will be similar to Mr Chaos' works. Because I just can't find replacements for Dementors and the like, although the reason for Voldemort's near-immortality will be somewhat different. Any suggestions on how to adapt canon will be always be welcomed; just send them in either a PM or a review.

So without further ado, I present the first chapter of the Jewel of Life! Oh, and don't forget to review.

XxXxX

The Dursley family of Number Four, Privet Drive were happy to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They lived in a normal house in a normal street filled with normal people in a perfectly normal region. The only thing not normal about the Dursleys was the small cupboard under the stairs...and the boy it housed by the name of Harry James Potter.

Harry was an unusual boy, and everybody, including himself, knew it, although they couldn't put their finger on what did make him unusual. Perhaps it was the quiet demeanour he had, with his big, emerald eyes watching, or the clothes he wore, which were always five sizes too big, or even the jagged scar in shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead – there was definitely something strange about him.

Harry had lived in the quaint and tiny region of Surrey with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley for as long as he could remember and nobody had told him otherwise. He'd never known his parents, who were apparently freaks who died in a car crash one drunk night according to Petunia and Vernon. (Vernon and Petunia tended to get very reserved when the topic was brought up and began mistreating Harry even worse than normal, which was saying something.) Harry had never felt even an ounce of love or care those ten years he spent with his abusive relatives, who always put him down and gave him chores and the occasional beating if he looked like he was going to do something 'freaky'. Harry didn't have the foggiest idea as to why he was treated so harshly, but he'd come to expect in a few short years since his arrival at the doorstep that he was, like his parents, truly a freak.

But these weren't the reasons Harry was considered a freaky kid. No, the reason his relatives treated him as such was because strange things and accidents kept occurring around him, like the time where he accidentally threw the house cat across the living room even though he was in his cupboard, or when he inexplicably opened the front door when Dudley's Aunt Marge had arrived one fine summer. Things like that.

It wasn't like he was living in a great place to begin with, so there was no chance for life to be exciting for Harry. No, Harry lived in a barren place, where there was little flora and fauna with only a small populace scattered around the region, and the cause for such barrenness was a great war lasting for nearly fifteen years, creating a generation gap so massive that Surrey now consisted mostly of children and older people. It wasn't like it mattered, since Petunia and Vernon rarely allowed Harry to go outside and mingle with others in fear of him being 'freaky'.

His cousin Dudley, however, was a completely different case. While Harry had been neglected and shunned nearly all his life, Dudley we showered with so much love and affection that it got to his head. The Dursley child always got whatever he wanted no matter what his parents had to do to acquire it – his parents could never say no. As a result, Dudley grew up to become a spoilt brat with a circle of friends having similar parents and personalities. They all enjoyed bullying Harry, because only Harry kept his mouth shut whenever anyone mistreated him and never said anything, and because it was only with Harry that they could play their favourite game: Harry Hunting.

Harry didn't have much of a life in Surrey. He woke up, did the chores, went to a normal school with his stupid cousin, came back home to do some more chores and sometimes receive beatings, and then have a dinner of leftovers, which wasn't much since Vernon and his son ate like starving boarhounds. Everyday was a routine, a routine which he hated with a burning passion but one that he couldn't do anything about. Disobeying his uncle and aunt incurred their wrath and Harry was too timid to not listen to his frightening relatives.

Until one day, when everything changed. And Harry would never forget the day when a giant of a man and his demonic dog broke into his house and changed his life forever.

XxXxX

On a particularly ordinary morning, Harry woke up in his cupboard to the sound of pounding overhead. Harry groaned; Dudley was once again stomping the stairs right above where Harry's cupboard was situated.

"Wake up, shithead!" Dudley's muffled voice boomed. Harry groggily wore his broken-now-fixed pair of glasses as Dudley continued. "Make me my breakfast!"

Harry sighed, hurriedly getting off his bed so that he could do the first chore of the day. He knew the only thing that came out of waiting was Uncle Vernon's wrath, and Harry did not want his morning to be ruined (which normally was). He turned the knob of the cupboard door, only to see Dudley waiting outside, wanting to see Harry's face. Dudley unceremoniously shoved Harry back into his room and slammed the door shut before sniggering to himself about his sense of humour.

Harry groaned as he pushed himself up off the ground. He fixed his now-broken glasses with tape and once again exited the room, wearing one of Dudley's old clothes which were five sizes too big for him. Harry had never got anything of his own, and never expected any, because he didn't want to beg of Vernon or Petunia and see them laughing wildly in response.

The boy quickly slipped into the kitchen and got ready to make some breakfast. As he put a load of bacon and sausages for frying, Harry saw Dudley, roughly the weight of a warthog, stroll pompously into the kitchen, where his beefy father was reading the newspaper and making snide remarks about all the headlines to no one in particular. Vernon immediately looked up at their son and beamed at Dudley, who in turn smirked smugly as he sat on a comfortable couch.

It was extremely rare to find Dudley so lively at this time in the morning. It was a pain in the neck to wake him up on schooldays, a chore given to Harry, which resulted in many late arrivals. But today was a big day for the overgrown boy: today was the day Dudley would be playing a football match and he was not going to be a benchwarmer.

Harry, on the other hand, wasn't going anywhere. Instead, he'd be staying with his least favourite people in the world, do their chores and go to a poor school and grow up to become a servant boy or something like that – well, that was what the Dursleys told him anyway.

"All set, Dudders?" Vernon asked cheerfully.

"Yes, Pops," Dudley replied. "Piers and Malcolm'll be meeting me in an hour and then we'll head to Gordon's," he said pleasantly, which was a surprise to Harry since he'd never heard the fat boy articulate such a long sentence. "Where's my breakfast?" he bawled a second later.

Vernon glared at his nephew in response. "Get on with it, boy!" Vernon bellowed. Vernon never called Harry by his real name; it was either 'boy' or 'freak' or 'ungrateful wretch' or sometimes even 'bastard'.

Harry nodded and hastily began stirring the vast amount of bacon and sausages just as Petunia entered the kitchen, throwing a dirty look at the black-haired boy. "Get a move on, and don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's big day," she hissed. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied in a monotone. He was already used to such vile treatment from his relatives.

While Harry fried the breakfast in the best way possible, Petunia and Vernon began pulling out an unbelievable amount of presents for Dudley due to him playing in such an important match. Harry watched absently in pure jealously as Dudley began to unceremoniously tear the wrapping paper from the presents like a barbarian.

It wasn't hard for Dudley to make Harry feel jealous as he began to show-off each present very obviously. Harry felt his eyes stinging as he looked away from the scene and did his best not to cry, an act he'd mastered over the years after learning that his feeling held no value in the Dursley family.

They wouldn't do this for me, he thought angrily as he stirred the bacon and eggs once again. Correction: nobody would do this for me...

"Breakfast, boy!" Vernon shouted angrily. Harry flinched and replied feebly, saying "Yes," before turning off the gas.

As Harry served the bacon and sausages on three plates, he felt an uncontrollable urge to taste some. He hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, due to his permission for accidentally over-frying yesterday's lunch, and he definitely wanted to eat some right now. Just a little won't hurt...Dudley won't even notice with his piggy eyes. He sniggered silently at the thought. Yeah, he said to himself, his hand reaching towards a particularly juicy sausage, just a tiny bite—

Harry gasped in pain as he felt a sharp blow on the back of his head a second before he touched the piece of food. Eyes watering in pain, he turned around, eyes widening in fear when he finally recognised Vernon's enormous figure looming over the scrawny boy. The large man's face was twisted into a fierce scowl.

"U-U-Uncle V-V—" Harry stammered, but Vernon cut him off.

"Don't let me catch you even touching the food meant for us, you ungrateful wretch!" he growled threateningly. "I don't want your freaky hands to contaminate our food!"

"Y-Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry muttered.

Vernon snorted and bellowed at Harry to serve the three of them. The boy quickly served his relatives, then wolfed down the leftovers in a matter of seconds before waiting to wash the dishes. He really hated his life. If it wasn't for the fact that he didn't have any pocket money and that the legal age for starting out was eleven, Harry would've run away a long time ago and begun his life as a runaway pokémon trainer. Well, it wasn't like his "family" would miss him; on the contrary, Uncle Vernon would say almost everyday that he would love to see the back of him.

That's it. Harry gritted his teeth, his head still throbbing in pain. I'm getting out of this place at midnight, he grumbled to himself savagely. Maybe I'll steal some money from Uncle Vernon's safe...he never locks it, and then I'll make a run for—

BOOM.

Everybody in the household flinched as there was an astoundingly large knock at the door. Petunia shrieked, Dudley choked on some sausage and Vernon spilled his entire morning coffee over the front of his shirt.

"Gah!" Vernon exclaimed in pain, the hot coffee scalding his skin. "Who the bloody hell is knocking on the door like that?! You better be ready for an answer or I will fix you!" he added as he stormed to the front door.

The remaining three members of the house could still hear Vernon grumbling right until he opened the door, where he abruptly stopped. Harry's mind began whirling with possibilities as he wondered who could silence Vernon so suddenly, but his suspicions were soon answered when he, Dudley and Petunia rushed outside once Vernon let out a strangled scream.

When Harry saw who it was, he froze.

A giant of a man was standing inside, stooping low enough for his head to simply brush the ceiling. He had untamed, grizzly hair that covered his entire face save for the region around his eyes and mouth and seemed to weigh a ton. He wore an enormous, brown, ragged and old jacket that seemed to house a gazillion pockets, black trousers and a humongous pair of worn-out shoes. Each step he took resulted in loud thuds, and it wasn't a wonder that everybody else was frozen in pure fear.

The giant looked around, then grinned when his tiny black eyes settled on Harry's tiny frame. "Ah, there yeh are, Harry!" he said gently. Despite his alarming appearance, he had a gentle air around him. "It's been a long time since I saw yeh. Yeh were only a baby when I dropped yeh off at this place."

Harry's eyes widened. "You brought me here?" he asked, incredulous.

The giant chuckled. "Yeah, I did. You were the size of half my – but never mind that now. All set? We've got ter get yer stuff, ya know."

Harry frowned in puzzlement. "S-Set for what?" he stuttered, still a bit frightened off the giant.

It was the giant's turn to frown. "Wait, yeh don't know?" he asked softly.

"Out," Vernon stuttered unexpectedly, finally gaining his voice. "Get out!"

"Yeh two didn't tell him?" the giant growled as he faced Vernon and Petunia, who cowered under the fierce glare. "What about 'em letters, eh? The ones Professor Dumbledore's been sending?"

"We...We burnt them," Petunia muttered, her face pale. "We don't want him—" she said that word with such disgust that even Dudley was shocked, "—meddling with you and your unnaturalness and ending up like his stupid parents—"

"Yeh don't have a say in all of this," the giant interrupted, scowling. "Nothing yeh two say's gon' do nothing about Harry's life."

Harry was now really confused. "What are you three talking about?" he asked the intruder. "And who are you?"

The giant of a man chuckled. "Where are me manners? Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts – well, but yeh won't know much about Hogwarts, seeing as these fools haven't told yeh a thing..."

Hagrid shoved his hand in one of the numerous pockets on his coat, bringing out a thick, crumbled envelope a moment later, the Dursley's address clearly written on the front with an emerald green ink.

"Open it up," Hagrid urged as Harry beheld the envelope in his hands. Harry obliged, slipping the envelope open and bringing out two sheets of paper neatly stapled together as he noticed Vernon slipping into the master bedroom, probably to cry. Still puzzled, he turned his attention to the letter, which read:

HOGWARTS POKÉMON TRAINER ACADEMY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts Pokémon Trainer Academy. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary equipment and textbooks.

Term starts on September 1st. We expect your reply by no later than July 31st.

Signed,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry turned towards Hagrid.

"What is Hogwarts?" was the first question he asked.

Hagrid chuckled lightly. "Hogwarts is a trainer school, Harry," he replied. "There, yeh'll be taught how ter train pokémon, take care of 'em, an'...an' some other stuff. Instead of goin' an' challengin' gym leaders ter enter League tournaments, Hogwarts give yeh a leg up and allows yeh ter directly enter the League tournaments without earnin' gym badges. Plus, it gives yeh a mo' rounded education an' yeh've had a place there since yeh were born, all thanks ter yer parents. Coo, eh?"

Harry nodded dumbly, but blinked when something occurred to him. "Hagrid...What is 'pokémon'?"

"'Bout tha'..." The giant scratched his rough beard for a few seconds before responding. "Pokémon are strange creatures, Harry. Well, they resemble animals, like lions an' stuff, but they've got magical powers. Some of 'em can manipulate fire, others water, an', err..." He scratched the back of his head and gave Harry an apologetic look. "Sorry, Harry. I dunno how terms explain the stuff. You'll get better knowledge 'bout 'em at Hogwarts."

"He's not going!" Harry and Hagrid whipped around to see Vernon butting in the conversation, a shotgun in his hand as his family cowered behind him. Harry's uncle walked slowly and menacingly towards Hagrid and Harry, pumping the shotgun before pointing it at Hagrid. "And get out of my house unless you want your tiny brain to decorate my walls. DID YOU HEAR ME—AAAARRRGH!"

Harry's heat skipped a beat as a fierce growl pierced his ears. Petunia and Dudley screamed as a black figure blurred into the house, crashing into Vernon and sending him to the ground. Harry adjusted his glasses, but immediately wished he hadn't when he saw his uncle an inch away from what seemed like death.

A beast fit to come from the fires of hell was standing over Vernon, who was trembling in fear. The demonic canine had sleek, black fur, although its underside and face had brown fur. Its torso had a secondary external ribcage of ivory bones and two bones circled its four ankles. It had a thin, long tail with something like an arrow's point at the end. What seemed the fiercest was the horns on its head, which were raked sharply towards the back.

The Houndoom snarled, gripping the shotgun from Vernon's terrified hands and clenching its powerful maw so that the weapon snapped into two with ease. It was so enraged that its scarlet eyes were bloodshot and was practically frothing at the mouth. Houndoom opened its jaws, its sharp and long fangs a centimetre away from Vernon's face, a snarl building up in its throat as it—

"Back, Fang!" Hagrid shouted sternly. "Back!"

Fang stopped its bite abruptly, whining softly before it got up from Vernon's body and bounded towards Hagrid. Hagrid seemed unperturbed by the incident and was scratching the Houndoom behind its horns, growling contently in response.

"Sorry 'bout tha'," Hagrid told Harry, the Dursleys going unnoticed. "Fang looks a bit fierce, but he's really a softie. Aren't you, you great brute?"

Fang growled.

"That...The beast almost killed me!" Vernon exclaimed once he recovered from his initial shock and fear. "I'm calling the police. Get out of my house at once—"

"Call the coppers if that's what yeh want, Dursley," Hagrid growled, "but firs' they'll want ter investigate what I can only assume is an unlicensed firearm in yer house. They'll be very interested in tha', very interested indeed."

Vernon gulped.

"So...Yeh ready ter go, Harry?" Hagrid asked. "It's already twenty-ninth of July, y'know. We've got ter get yer stuff before school starts."

"Stop it, that's enough!" Vernon bellowed. "Enough with this crazy nonsense. The boy will go to a normal school and, maybe, just maybe if he doesn't go to this crackpot school of yours we will buy him a pokémon and make him a pokémon trainer. But he will NOT go to your stupid place a learn how to become a freaky freak just like his freaky parents!"

"Oh, goanboylyerhead, Dursley," Hagrid scoffed. "And fry yer face too, while yer at it!"

Vernon swelled like a balloon, his face turning a familiar purple as he prepared to explode into speech, but a low growl from Hagrid's Houndoom quietened him in an instant.

"Anyway," Hagrid said as he turned to face Harry once more, "what was I sayin'? Oh yeah. C'mon. We don't want ter stay with this ruddy lot any longer."

Harry nodded. With one last look at the frightened Dursleys, he turned away, a wide grinned slowly creeping up his face as he thought:

Well, so much for Dudley's big day being perfect.