Was I just noticed by Zygarde?
Charles froze.
That meant the image of Zygarde that had flashed in his mind earlier probably wasn't Voldemort's Pokémon, Magus, transforming—it was just the result of Zygarde's gaze.
And the reason it had looked at him… could it be because he'd disrupted the balance between the Pokémon and wizarding worlds?
Charles quickly dismissed that idea.
Zygarde hadn't even manifested yet—there was no physical form, no information. Even if it wanted to observe him, it would be difficult. Not every Pokémon was like Arceus, able to project itself into countless worlds at once.
Most likely, the Zygarde he'd seen earlier was Voldemort's Pokémon Magus's transformed state—and it was that anomaly that had drawn the attention of the real Zygarde.
Whether that was a blessing or a curse… remained to be seen.
[Because you have been observed by Zygarde, Zygarde Cells and Cores are now distributed throughout the Reserve.]
[Congratulations, you have obtained: Zygarde Cube.]
Without a sound, a new device materialized inside Charles's hidden laboratory.
"Zygarde Cube, huh…"
It was a machine capable of assembling or dispersing Zygarde's Cells. Charles couldn't quite understand how a Legendary Pokémon could so obediently allow itself to be divided or recombined—but that didn't matter. Science rarely cared about reason.
As for Zygarde's components—five Cores, and ninety-five Cells.
Together, a perfect hundred. Every single Core gathered with nine Cells could fuse into one 10% Forme Zygarde.
Capturing a 10% Zygarde probably wouldn't be hard for him—might even be easy. But a 50% Zygarde… that might already be beyond his ability. And a 100% Zygarde? Its power would be unimaginable.
"Sectumsempra!"
Snape raised his wand, unleashing his signature spell at the mutated five-legged creature.
The invisible slashes of Sectumsempra—razor-sharp as a thousand blades—struck the monster's hide, yet only managed to knock it back a short distance. Its body bore not a single wound!
The abomination roared and retaliated instantly, flinging several Pokémon-style attacks at Snape!
"Golbat—use Venom Shock!"
From Golbat's fanged mouth spewed streams of purple poison that intercepted the monster's attacks. At the same time, Snape cast Protego Maxima as an added safeguard.
Then—several potion vials flew from his robes, hurling straight toward the creature!
The fragile glass shattered; the boiling contents mixed violently, sparking a chain reaction—
Flames erupted at the monster's feet, swallowing it whole.
Another vial burst open, releasing searing lightning that merged with the fire—an explosion followed, rocking the entire field!
BOOM!
The shockwave snapped Charles out of his thoughts, and when he looked up, he was stunned.
Good lord—who taught you to fight like that?
Snape looked like a pay-to-win warrior out of an RPG—tossing ten or more potions in a row, each detonating like a separate skill cast. The combined assault shredded the five-legged monster in seconds.
Moments later, the creature collapsed—its body disintegrating into nothing.
"You just…" Charles began.
"I happened to brew a few useful potions," Snape said coolly. "They're far better than spells."
Of course, those potions had been concocted from Pokémon materials. Convenient to use—like hand grenades, really. Instant explosions on impact. But brewing such offensive potions wasn't easy.
Take Fire and Thunder potions, for example—their potency depended heavily on the quality of the Pokémon materials used. Lower-tier Pokémon yielded far weaker results.
"I think next time you come asking for materials," Charles said dryly, "I should start charging you."
Snape: "???"
"You don't want the formulas anymore?"
Pay money? Absolutely not!
"Anyway," Snape said hastily, "I told you Magus-as-Pokémon wouldn't work. If not for that Substitute technique, Voldemort's body would've been destroyed completely."
Indeed, that five-legged creature had been a Substitute manifestation—it had taken the backlash from the failed transformation spell, mutating into the monster they'd just fought. Its HP had been only about a quarter of Voldemort's original vitality. Otherwise, even Snape's potion barrage might not have taken it down.
Hearing this, Charles fell into thought. Then, after a moment, he said slowly,"Maybe… we got it wrong from the start."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Animagus transformations into magical creatures or Pokémon aren't impossible—we just used the wrong method," Charles explained. "Using mandrakes or cocoons of Ghost Silkworms only works for animal Animagi.
"Magical creatures—and Pokémon—must require entirely different reagents, entirely different incantations."
Snape stared at him, stunned.
Honestly, he'd never considered that before.
"The Animagus incantation is Amado, Animo, Animado, Animagus. 'Animo' literally means 'animal.' Even a single mispronounced syllable can turn a Levitation Charm into a Summoning Charm—imagine what that means for a spell as complex as this."
Now that Charles mentioned it, Snape found the theory… surprisingly convincing.
But Transfiguration wasn't his specialty.
"You should discuss this with Minerva or Dumbledore," he suggested—this time without his usual sarcasm.
If this theory held, it could revolutionize the field of Transfiguration. Not even ten Nobel Transfiguration Prizes could compare to that discovery.
After all, why were there so few Animagi in the wizarding world?
It wasn't just that the process was difficult or restrictive—the utility of turning into a mundane animal was limited.
But if one could transform into a magical creature—say, a dragon or a phoenix—the power boost would be enormous!
Of course, even understanding that didn't make it any easier. Finding the true incantation, materials, and procedures might take generations.
Still, with a solid hypothesis, Charles went to discuss it with Dumbledore and McGonagall.
Both found his theory fascinating.
"To be honest," said McGonagall with visible delight, "no one's ever thought of it that way before." She remembered Charles's exceptional aptitude for Transfiguration back in school. "I told you to keep researching, and it seems I wasn't wrong to trust you."
"A new field of study," Dumbledore agreed warmly. "Even if it yields no immediate results, it's still progress. And I, too, believe it's possible. Magical creatures and ordinary animals are alike—but not identical. Just as wizards and Muggles are."
Indeed, there was a vast gap between the two.
Though many wizards came from Muggle families, somewhere in their lineage there had always been a wizard. Two pure Muggles could never give birth to a magical child.
"In my opinion," McGonagall said, "the existing materials might still suffice. Whether mandrake or Ghost Silkworm cocoon, both serve as vessels to house a secondary consciousness and form. That principle shouldn't change, even for magical creatures."
"What if they can't handle it?" Charles countered. "Magical creatures' innate magic might overwhelm those reagents. So I plan to use a discarded Shedinja shell instead—if it can evolve into Ninjask or Shedinja, it might handle the strain."
Though Voldemort's earlier experiment had failed, Charles suspected the problem lay in the spell, not the materials.
"A bold idea," Dumbledore said with a twinkle. "But worth a try."
McGonagall shot him a sharp glare. "Don't encourage him, Albus. Animagus transformation is dangerous enough already. The risks are all in the textbooks."
"Relax," Charles laughed. "I've no desire to end up as another five-legged monster."
Only a fool would test that on himself! He wasn't suicidal.
Better to let poor Tom take the risk again.
The discussion lasted a long while before they finally dispersed. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall agreed to help search for suitable spells and ingredients.
Soon, July came to an end.
Charles plucked every last mushroom from Voldemort's head and burned them to ash, then had Snape escort him back to Lucius's manor.
In the meantime, the Ministry of Magic's war fervor had grown by the day. The Death Eaters, on the other hand, remained quiet under Lucius's orders—too afraid to act. It made them look cowardly, and resentment simmered.
Their bloodlust brewed, desperate to tear off Cornelius Fudge's head.
"Lucius, what's the Dark Lord's plan?" Bellatrix snapped. "How long must we wait?"
She hadn't seen Voldemort in days, and it drove her mad.
She was ready to give him everything!
"What's the rush?" Lucius said smoothly. "Can't you feel your Dark Mark burning? The Dark Lord is coming."
No sooner had he spoken than Voldemort strode into the room.
Every Death Eater dropped to their knees, kissing the hem of his robe.
"My Lord!" Bellatrix quickly put on a fawning smile, presenting a golden cup with trembling hands. "Your cup, my Lord."
"Excellent," Voldemort said, taking the cup with a thin smile. "Your loyalty pleases me, Bellatrix."
Her body shuddered in rapturous delight.
"It is my greatest honor, my Lord!"
"Good. Now—" Voldemort tossed the cup to Malfoy without a glance. "I'm glad you're all here. It's time we show the Ministry of Magic our power."——
"Mr. Gold, you've finally arrived," said Amelia Bones, standing at the head of a group of Aurors.
Beside her stood Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror Office, and several other officials Charles didn't recognize. But among the Aurors, he spotted familiar faces—Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded to him, and Tonks waved excitedly.
It seemed she'd been promoted to the active corps.
Even the retired Mad-Eye Moody had been summoned back—no one handled Death Eaters better than he did.
Fudge, meanwhile, looked decked out for war, though his trembling betrayed him. Acting or not, the thought of facing real Death Eaters was terrifying. A Killing Curse was a Killing Curse, no matter who cast it.
Still, with Pokémon protection, he seemed a little more confident.
"Everyone—"
"The war is upon us!"
"The Death Eaters are cruel, merciless monsters! As of now, the Unforgivable Curses are temporarily legalized! Show no mercy when you face them!" Fudge bellowed, his words igniting the crowd's spirits.
The Minister of Magic himself leading the charge—what a sight.
"Now that's more like it," Moody growled with a grin.
"And remember—work with your Pokémon partners! Stay safe above all! With the aid of Mr. Charles Gold and his Pokémon, I expect zero casualties and a complete victory!"
"When the time comes, Charles Gold will face the Dark Lord himself. The rest of us will eliminate the Death Eaters!"
Kingsley frowned deeply.
"Wait, you're sending Mr. Gold alone against the Dark Lord? That's insane!" he said, glancing at Charles. "It's too dangerous. He needs at least a dozen Aurors to back him up!"
"I'll help!" Tonks cried, raising her hand—only for Moody to yank her back.
"You'll just get in the way," he grunted. "I'll go with him!"
Then several Aurors stepped forward in solidarity, determined to stand with Charles against the Dark Lord. They were ready to die if need be.
But Charles wanted none of it. How could he "fight himself" if they were watching?
He didn't need backup for a fight he wasn't actually going to fight!
So he quickly declined. "No need. Honestly, you'd only get in my way."
Charles: I'm not targeting any of you. I'm just saying—everyone here is trash.
(End of Chapter)