"Come here…"
"Come here…"
The raspy whisper beside Draco's ear instantly pushed his fear to the extreme.
"Who—who's there?!"
He curled up on the ground, knees knocking inward, his eyes darting wildly, but he couldn't see anyone. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
And, just to make matters worse—Draco suddenly felt the urge to pee.
"Come here…"
"Stop pretending to be a ghost!" he shouted bravely, though his eyes stayed tightly shut. Even the Poké Ball at his belt shook slightly—inside, his Ekans couldn't stand watching this pathetic display any longer. It emerged on its own, trying to calm its terrified Trainer.
But the moment Ekans's cold scales brushed against Draco's skin, the boy's soul nearly flew out of his body.
"AAAAAAAHHHHH!"
The pampered little noble, who had never faced real danger before, ran screaming through the dark tunnel, mind blank, not even knowing which way was out.
"AHHH—it's at my feet! It's at my feet!"
"Goyle!"
"Crabbe!"
"Somebody help me!"
Ekans: ???
If I'd known this would happen, I'd have stayed in the Poké Ball!
Still, it couldn't just let its Trainer get lost, so Ekans slithered quickly after him—only to realize it was pointless. Draco had run in circles and returned to the exact same spot without realizing it in the dim light.
By now, Draco's legs trembled like lead. His lungs burned as though they might burst.
"Huff—huff—I think—it's gone—right?"
Panting, he leaned against the damp wall, completely unaware that Ekans was coiled beside him, resting quietly.
When the serpent finally hissed to get his attention, Draco jumped again—but then recognized the sound and let out a shaky laugh.
"Ekans? Oh, thank goodness—it's you. You came to save me, didn't you? You won't believe it, I just met the most terrifying ghost!"
"It was horrible! Its voice was scarier than Voldemort's! It even touched my ankle—it was freezing cold, just like your scales—wait a minute…"
He froze.
"Hold on—was that you?"
Ekans flicked its tongue: Yes, that was me.
"You nearly scared me to death!" Draco grumbled, but didn't really scold it. Instead, he lifted Ekans and draped it around his shoulders. "Alright, if we run into any monsters later, you bite them first, got it?"
He raised his wand again. "Lumos!"
Light spilled out, illuminating the cavern. Draco glanced down, hoping to follow his footprints back—but froze. The ground was covered in them, hundreds crisscrossing every direction.
"These are… my footprints?" he muttered, face going pale. "How could there be so many of me?"
Ekans: Because you've been running in circles, genius.
But Draco didn't believe it.
"This place is cursed, Ekans! We need to leave right now! Who knows what kind of thing is down here—it might even turn into another me! If I meet myself face-to-face, I'll be killed for sure!"
Panicking, he prepared to bolt again—but Ekans's body looped around his waist, tugging him back. Its tail pointed toward another path, one with almost no footprints.
"You want me to go that way?"
Ekans nodded. It could hear a voice calling to it, an irresistible whisper that lured it onward like a forbidden fruit.
"I see!" Draco said. "If there are footprints everywhere, then the right way must be where there aren't any! You're a genius—smarter than those Gryffindor idiots!"
He strode confidently in that direction.
Before long, a faint glow appeared ahead.
"You were right, Ekans!" Draco's eyes lit up. The snot on his face mixed with excitement as he wiped his sleeve across it and ran forward.
"I swear, I'm never coming back to this cursed cave again!"
But when he reached the light, his joy died instantly. It wasn't an exit—it was a dead end.
The glow came from clusters of purplish mushrooms growing along the wall, their spores emitting a soft phosphorescence. The brown-red stone walls were covered in ancient carvings, and in the center stood a small stone pedestal.
Upon it lay a black book.
"Wait—something's wrong."
"Something's very wrong."
The scene felt eerily familiar. Draco's eyes widened as he remembered countless wizarding novels: a lone wizard trapped in a cave, hearing whispers, discovering a mysterious magic book.
Now he was living that cliché himself.
Only this time, he had zero intention of touching it.
In those stories, muggle readers might call it fate—but wizards knew better. Magic books like this were cursed.
He turned to leave—
But Ekans didn't move. It froze completely, like it had been Petrified. Draco's legs took a step forward, but his upper body was yanked back by the serpent around his neck.
"Ekans, what are you doing?"
The snake's tail pointed firmly toward the book.
"No way!"
"You don't know how dangerous that could be! In the wizarding world—" He stopped mid-sentence.
Wait a second. This was the Pokémon world's Hogwarts. Not the same magical world at all.
"Right… different worlds. Maybe it's fine to open it here…"
Unable to resist the temptation, Draco stepped closer.
The carvings on the walls depicted strange Pokémon he'd never seen before—one looked like a massive serpent with limbs.
He didn't notice that some of the glowing mushrooms had eyes, briefly opening to watch him before closing again.
"These must be the legendary Pokémon those professors talk about!" Draco muttered, trying to match them to the illustrations in his textbooks—but none fit.
His eyes gleamed with excitement.
"I—Draco Malfoy—might become the first Trainer to capture a legendary Pokémon!"
The idea inflated his pride. Maybe this was the glory Charles Gold spoke of!
He reached out and touched the book.
On the cover were three engraved words:
"The Black Book."
Draco flipped it open. The pages were blank. No signature, no writing, nothing.
"What? Completely empty?"
He furiously flipped through every page, but found nothing. Maybe it was a prank.
Just then, Ekans leaned down and spat a small drop of venom onto the diary.
The venom didn't burn through it like basilisk poison—it simply soaked into the paper and vanished.
"Wow…" Draco whispered.
Then, black letters began to form where the venom had landed:
"Could you not smear weird stuff on me?"
Tom Riddle was done.
Merlin help me, he thought. After all that careful work—rebuilding his identity with Dumbledore's help, waiting for some gullible young wizard to stumble upon him—and now he gets slimed with venom.
At least it wasn't acid this time.
"Did you just talk?" Draco's fear vanished instantly, replaced by excitement.
Normally, a talking book was a bad sign. But this one seemed… stupid.
"Who are you?" he asked. The book didn't answer.
"Oh, I have to write it?" Draco frowned. "How primitive."
He dipped Ekans's tail in a puddle of muddy water and scrawled across the page:
Who are you?
Tom Riddle sighed silently.
"My name is Ander Slytherin, a Trainer who has long sought the traces of legendary Pokémon. Also—could you maybe use proper ink next time?"
"Who brings a pen into a cave?" Draco retorted. Then paused. "Wait—did you just say your surname is Slytherin?"
That, of course, was Riddle's new alias. Ever since the Pokémon world's Dumbledore learned of his defeat at Harry Potter's hands, news of his true origins—his half-blood heritage and common name, Tom—had spread far and wide.
Tom!
How could the Dark Lord of all wizards rule the world with a name like Tom? It was like a tyrant king called Fluffy.
Now that name was ruined forever. So he'd reclaimed his ancestor's surname—Slytherin—far more noble and terrifying.
"The Pokémon world has a Slytherin too?" Draco muttered. "Well, Dumbledore exists here, so why not? Maybe… maybe there's even another me somewhere!"
"Yes," the diary wrote. "I am Slytherin—one of the greatest Pokémon Masters in history. Legend says my ancestor once tamed the god of death itself, Yveltal, who brings all things to an end."
The story, of course, came straight from Dumbledore's own retelling of Charles Gold's adventures.
"Legendary Pokémon… Yveltal!" Draco's eyes shone.
Was this destiny? In such perfect coincidence, he had found this book, while Goyle and Crabbe were nowhere to be seen.
It could only mean one thing—
He, Draco Malfoy, was the chosen one of the legendary Pokémon!
"So? Where's the Pokémon Slytherin left behind?" he demanded eagerly.
"Patience," came the reply. "I'm still searching. If it were easy to find, it wouldn't be legendary, would it?"
Riddle continued, spinning lies effortlessly.
"I've spent my life seeking them. This Black Book contains the locations of many legendary and powerful Pokémon. Also… seriously, can you stop writing with mud? Just use venom—it's cleaner."
"You complain too much," Draco huffed, wiping Ekans's tail clean and letting its venom drip again.
He wrote, in bold strokes:
Prove it.
The diary began to flip rapidly, its yellowed pages fluttering like wings until it stopped midway.
"Then let me show you."
A powerful force dragged Draco forward. The real world shattered like a cracked mirror, dissolving into swirling fragments.
A black-and-white illusion unfolded before him.
He stood in a fog-drenched forest, where a shadowy figure crouched behind the bushes—short-haired, dressed unlike any wizard he'd ever seen.
"You're Ander?" Draco asked.
(End of Chapter)