Tuesday marked their first-ever Care of Magical Creatures and Pokémon lesson. The class had been suspended before, specifically because of that last bit—Pokémon.
They had to wait for the eggs to hatch. but now they had.
Magnus had almost forgotten that Hagrid was actually a professor. In the canon timeline, this was the year Dumbledore had promoted him, but with all the alterations he had encountered in this version, he had just assumed Hagrid might still be the gamekeeper.
After all, there was also the fact that Professor Quirrell was missing this year.
Instead, Defense Against the Dark Arts was now being taught by Professor Remus Lupin.
This change was both a relief and an exciting development for Magnus. Lupin had arguably been the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... well, besides the fake Moody.
One could argue that for the time Mr. Crouch had impersonated Mad-Eye, he had actually done a decent job, bringing real-life experience to his lessons.
But mostly, Magnus felt relief.
When he first realized that Quirrell wasn't the professor this year, his hope that this version of events might have eliminated the Voldemort threat had started to grow. That meant there wouldn't be any interruptions to his Pokémon-related goals.
Hagrid's lesson was set to take place just after lunch, down by his cabin. Magnus should have been excited.
There was a bit of curiosity, of course, but not real excitement. He had already read books written by those considered the best in this world when it came to Pokémon—and they had turned out to be... well, disappointing.
It wasn't that he thought Hagrid was incompetent. In fact, with his love for beasts and magical creatures, he was practically the best man for the job.
The problem was—what could Hagrid possibly teach him that would help him awaken the full potential of Pokémon in this world?
'Guess I should go find out' .
He was among the last to leave the Great Hall and he broke into a rush to catch up with the rest of the first-years.
"Magnus!"
He screeched to a stop.
His Zorua, which had been holding onto his shoulders, was dragged backward by the sudden movement, clinging to his robes before jumping back up.
Magnus turned to see Hermione standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, hurrying toward him.
He was surprised to see that her Pichu was inside her basket.
Which wasn't right.
There hadn't been enough time to properly check on her since the indexing, McGonagall had dragged her off for more instructions almost immediately afterward—but Magnus did remember warning her that Pichu didn't do well with restrictions.
And now, as he glanced inside the basket, he could tell something was wrong.
"I can't let it out," Hermione explained, catching his disapproving look. "I think it's getting worse... the, you know." She glanced warily at passing students.
Magnus understood what she meant. He could see it for himself.
Pichu's fur wasn't as smooth or shiny as it should have been. Its usually bright, curious eyes looked damp and sad as it lay curled in the basket.
"Fuck," Magnus muttered.
Of course, this wasn't entirely unusual for a young Pichu. Even in the original world, they were prone to this sort of condition.
The problem was, as much as they wanted to avoid drawing attention to Pichu's electric discharges, they still needed help.
"I think I'll have to take it to Snape," Hermione said grimly, confirming Magnus' worst fear.
Snape.
That moron was their only option. But if they went to him, Hermione would almost certainly have to part with Pichu. That much was obvious.
Magnus recalled the Ministry lady's strict instructions. 'Frequent observation is required.' That's what she had said.
Snape would help the pichu, no doubt. But Snape was also a fucking snitch.
He had practically admitted as much when he made his stance clear on them being allowed to have Pokémon.
If they went to him, Snape wouldn't just go to Dumbledore—he might also leak the information to the Ministry if he thought the headmaster was being too lenient.
And that wasn't above him. Nothing was, where Snape's pettiness was concerned.
The man had outed Lupin as a werewolf just to steal his job. Who's to say he wouldn't do the same if he thought Hermione's Pokémon had qualities that threatened to steal Slytherin's dominance in the Pokémon inter-house cup?
"I'll also have to record the issue in the Ministry diary," Hermione added, her voice tight with worry.
Magnus breathed sharply as he crouched down to observe Pichu more closely. His Zorua leapt onto the basket, trying to get Pichu to play.
At least, the Zorua had been showing progress lately, Magnus noted. Maybe what he had witnessed at the Ravenclaw table the morning before the indexing wasn't entirely in his head. Maybe Zorua had actually tried to become a goblet.
Thinking of mischief…
A thought struck Magnus, and he suddenly smiled.
"What?" Hermione asked, looking hopeful.
Magnus, on the other hand, looked thoughtful.
"What if Snape isn't our only option?" he asked, voice filled with excitement.
Hermione, however, looked doubtful, though a flicker of curiosity remained. "Who else? I mean, he's the Potions Master."
"Well, yes… but what we really need are his skills and the ingredients.not the git himself "
"Magnus...." Hermione warned as she turned to look around but seeing no snape or a slytherine she let it slip.
"Who do you mean?" she asked, her tone almost apprehensive.
That, however, wasn't something Magnus was about to reveal. Not yet. And certainly not to her.
For one, it wasn't his secret to tell. And two, he wasn't actually seeking someone's help—he was after 'something's' Help.
Lastly, his plan involved breaking more than a handful of school rules and risking detention—or worse, facing Snape's wrath.
Hermione wouldn't go along with it. She might have bent the truth for the Ministry lady, but there were limits to how much her law-abiding nature could accommodate.
"Listen," Magnus said as they walked down the now-empty corridors. "I have a solution."
Hermione's eyes were fixed on him as they descended the spiraling staircase.
"You have to trust me, though," Magnus continued, suddenly stopping mid-step. "Don't go to Snape. You know what'll happen if you do."
He could see the hesitation in her expression. Snape was just her last resort, she would gladly avoid him.
"And don't record it in that diary," he added.
Hermione nodded quickly—that was something she would happily avoid as well. Anything written in that diary was automatically relayed to the Ministry.
"But what if it gets worse?" she asked.
Magnus hadn't given her an alternative yet, and she wasn't about to let the conversation end there.
"Just keep it in the basket and try to keep it calm," he reassured her. "I'll have something by tomorrow morning."
Hermione didn't look remotely reassured.
"Tomorrow?" she exclaimed incredulously. "Tomorrow is too far away!"
Magnus knew that. But it was the safest path.
They had reached a cross-section where they had to part ways—Magnus needed to stop by Ravenclaw Tower to swap his books before heading to class.
"It might not be…" he started.
"Your Pichu will be alright, Hermione. Just do as I —"
Before he could finish, Hermione let out a startled squeak.
A pair of hands suddenly grabbed Magnus by the shoulders and yanked him into an empty classroom.
"Hello, Magnus."