1) Digimon in Little Whinging

Jadin Weston and his companion were returning from the convenience store down Wisteria Walk on an errand for his father. It was also a good time for Jadin's partner digimon to be out with him on a sultry late summer evening as the last of the twilight was disappearing. That way, less chance of being seen, less chance Jadin would need to come up with a plausible explanation.

They had arrived here in Little Whinging just two days ago. He and his father by British Air, his partner via the Digital World. Jadin would call this place home for at least the next three years, as his father's promotion also involved a transfer to London.

As they arrived at the alley which ran between Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent:

"What the...", Jadin started. "Is that a digital field?"

"I don't know", his digimon companion answered. "Not like any I'm familiar with".

Whatever this zone of inexplicable darkness was, it looked nothing like any other digital field he'd ever seen. These looked like fog banks, and were glaringly bright as you entered. This was the exact opposite. Yet, what else could it possibly be? Digimon were transiting into the Material World.

He pulled out his digivice, and tried running an ident. The digivice remained stuck on "seek".

"Nothing", he said, perplexed. "I'm not getting anything on this digimon".

"Then we'll have to do this the old fashioned way", Jadin's companion announced. "We can't let it get out, especially if it's a dark species".

"I hate this", Jadin complained as he followed his companion into the darkness that had claimed the alley and surrounding area. He definitely didn't like going up against some unknown opponent blind.

The zone of darkness looked as though it had swallowed every photon, as the street lights were no longer visible, all the normal night sounds banished. It was also very, unnervingly, cold. Also, unlike every other digital field, he was inexplicably struck with feelings of sadness and despair.

"There's someone here", his companion pointed out. It looked to be a couple of boys Jadin's age. One was standing, the other on the ground, who was being accosted by one of the two unknown digimon.

"Expecto patronum!", the one called out with a desperate sound of voice while waving a stick. Jadin had no idea what he thought he was doing.

"You there!", Jadin called out.

"Get out of here!", Harry Potter called back. It was bad enough, under attack with his muggle step-brother/cousin; he didn't need more muggles getting in the way. It was hard enough, trying to concentrate, block out the depression and despair so he could summon his Patronus.

The new arrival didn't hear, or chose to ignore, his warning. Was this another magician? He didn't pull out a wand, but rather something else, something muggle. He was searching for something with the other hand. He pulled out what looked like a credit card.

"Impmon!", he called to his smaller companion.

"Let's do this!"

"Super Evolution Plug-in S!". He swiped the card through the bit of muggle tech.

Harry watched, unbelieving, as a strange golden light enveloped the smaller figure. Now he could see more clearly. The stranger's companion reminded Harry of a house elf. Then the smaller figure disappeared from view, hidden inside an oblong spheroid that crackled with electricity.

Impmon evolve! …


Harry stood, slack jawed, as the spheroid (egg?) burst. He had never seen a transfiguration that looked like this at Hogwart's – or anywhere else.

Where there had been a small elven figure, there now stood a fox the size of a draft horse. Except that this fox had nine tails, and the tips of each tail, and all four feet, blazed with red-orange foxfire that didn't even singe so much as one hair.

The fox lowered its head, concentrated a moment, as it spread its tails like a peacock. The flames at the tips of the tails took on a new form.

"Demon spirit fireballs!", it flicked its tails, sending the fireballs into the dementors, driving both of them back.

Next, the fox ran at the dementors. No one – nothing – ever ran to dementors. These were the most horrifying beings in existence. Harry had already gotten a taste of the Dementor's Kiss, and he never wanted a replay. The Kiss stole the very soul of its victims, leaving them little more than living shells with no emotions, no initiative, just a semblance of life. It was worse than death, and greatly feared. This is why the dementors were enlisted as guards of the wizarding prison: Azkaban. Why the maximum security facility had very few escapes, the one rare success being that of his godfather: Sirius Black.

The fox gave a mighty leap.

"Foxfire Dragon!"

The fox tucked its head and tails, and began spinning, head over heels, faster and faster, until it dissolved into a uniform mass of foxfire. As it reached the dementors, a dragon-like head appeared with a loud roar. The two dementors disappeared in a flash of foxfire.

"Noway!", Harry called out. Dementors were immortal. They couldn't be killed, as the best you could hope to do if confronted by dementors was to drive them off with a Patronus. This being a difficult charm to master, and Harry had just learned it, though he could hardly claim complete mastery, your only alternative was to escape and hope they didn't come after you. Yet, he had just seen these two destroyed. The late summer warmth and humidity returned.

The fox, back to "normal", landed on its feet before its companion. Harry searched his memory, yeah, he'd seen this new kid once or twice before. New faces stood out in Little Whinging. By the light of the street lamp just outside the alleyway, Harry could now see that the fox was silvery-violet and white. Black and white yin-yang symbols decorated his forehead, flanks and shoulders. He wore a fashion accessory: a heavy woolen rope with alternating white and green spirals, tied into a large bow, the ends of the rope terminated by large brass balls, and five pairs of crystals just below the neck.

"You OK?", the fox's companion called out.

Harry didn't get a chance to reply.

"Harry! Harry!", it was Mrs. Figg who was running down the alley. "No, keep your wand out", she called back as she'd noticed his trying to hide it from her. "If more of them come... My word!"

More questions for Harry: how did Mrs. Figg know? Why did she come? How much had she seen?

"All of you should leave immediately in case more try to materialize!", the new youth advised.

"What... who... are you?", Mrs. Figg asked.

"I was gonna say the same to you...", Harry replied as he went to check on his step brother, who was just barely conscious.

"Dudley! Dudley!", he called out, as he tried to rouse the semiconscious boy.

"Whudjew do to me?", Dudley slurred.

"It wasn't me..."

"What could any of you do to protect yourselves from those digimon?!", Jadin demanded. This was a motley crew indeed: an idiot youth who thought he could defeat digimon with a stick, an unconscious fat boy, and an old woman.

"They weren't digimon", Mrs. Figg, Harry and Kyuubimon answered back, almost in chorus.

"What the hell are you talking about?!", Jadin demanded. "I never saw anything that looked like that on this side of the Frontier!"

"Jadin", the fox began. So this was his companion's name. "They weren't from the Digital World... They were Material World beings. I came into contact with them and there's no doubt about it. They didn't leave behind any data".

"They were dementors...", Harry began to explain.

"Harry! There are some things best left unsaid", Arabella reprimanded. She was beginning to suspect. "Muggles aren't supposed to know...", as she glanced in Jadin's direction.

"And what about you?", Harry shot back at her.

So far as he knew, Mrs. Figg was just another neighbor who lived a few houses down from his aunt and uncle, and step parents. It seemed Mrs. Figg wasn't all there. An elderly lady who'd out-lived the rest of her family, whose only companion was her cat. Harry was just about the only one who ever stopped by for a visit, to talk, to see how she was doing, to escape the Dursley's. Mrs. Figg wasn't exactly a bundle of fun, but who else did she have? So far as Harry could tell, she had no other visitors, she didn't get out very much.

"I'm a squib", she began. "Albus sent me here to look out for you. When I get my hands on that irresponsible 'Dung... he was supposed to be protecting you, but he took off just when he was needed most. Why Albus ever sent him..."

"What the hell are all of you talking about?", Jadin demanded.

"Not now", Harry called back. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. True, Jadin and his creature had saved them. This Jadin also was undeniably a muggle. A muggle who had seen what he was not supposed to see. A muggle with a strange creature that looked very much magical, though Harry had never heard of digimon, had never seen any magical beings who looked like Impmon and what he transfigured into. Nor did he know of any magical creatures who could transform themselves so thoroughly. An animagus could turn into a fox, but it would be a regular fox, unrecognizable to all but a fellow magician, and then only if he were looking for the right signs.

It was for that reason that all animagi were required to enter their names into the Ministry's special registry. Failure to do so would result in a stay at Azkaban.


"Would you mind, Kyuubimon?", Jadin asked.

"Not at all".

So this is the infamous Dudley Dursley, Jadin asked himself as he and Harry struggled to hoist his bulk onto Kyuubimon's back. Yeah, he'd heard about "Big D", and his dubious associates already. Not entirely unexpected, as news travels fast in a place like Little Whinging.

"Where to?", Kyuubimon asked.

"Four Privet Drive", Harry replied, as he led the way.

"Back there, I just wanted to say 'Thanks' for helping", Harry said.

"Yes, thank you so very much", Arabella agreed. "I don't know what I'd do without you".

"Just part of being a Mentor, and you're quite welcome. We're just thankful we happened along when we did".

"Who... are you?!", Harry asked once again.

"Jadin Weston, and my digimon partner...", he introduced himself.

"Kyuubimon", the fox introduced himself.

"Harry. Harry Potter. I'm glad you arrived when you did... whoever you are?"

"Uhhhhh...", Dudley moaned.

Jadin was grateful that it was past nine, that this town rolled up the sidewalks not long after sundown, and that it was unlikely they'd be spotted. They all had loads of unasked questions. However, now wouldn't be a good time to ask. Getting Dudley back home, getting Harry back under the protection of the wards, these were the top priorities.

"Here, let me help", Jadin offered, as Harry and Jadin pulled Dudley from Kyuubimon's back. Between them, they got Dudley to the front door.

"Best be getting out of sight", Harry advised. "I can take it from here".

"I need a word with both of you", Mrs. Figg told Jadin. Crisis over, Kyuubimon de-digivolved back to his Rookie form: Impmon.

Jadin might have declined, but now he could not. This situation he'd stumbled into was beginning to look less and less like a routine incursion of another Wild One. He followed her to her house at number 11.

"Who... what... are you?", she asked.

"I am a digimon; my name is Impmon". The name was nothing like that of a house elf. Their owners typically gave their house elves silly diminutives as names that reflected the subservient nature of the relationship. A name like "Impmon" would be unthinkable.
"I never heard of digimon..."

For the first time, she got a good look at Impmon. He stood about a little over half of Jadin's height, and that made him tall for a house elf. It was obvious that he could not possibly be a house elf, as she at first suspected.

No house elf was covered in short, purple fur except for the white facial fur. No house elf had a long tail with an arrowhead like tip. Nor did they have three fingers and toes. Their noses tended to be long, thick, or otherwise misshapen. Not small, black, and moist.

His fashion accessories consisted of red, three fingered gauntlets, a matching red bandanna loosely knotted around his neck, and a yellow smiley badge sporting an evil leer. Otherwise, he seemed to be as adverse to clothing, if not more so, as any house elf, who considered clothing disgraceful.

Neither did he carry himself like a house elf. There was not the slightest trace of subservience. Indeed, he stood there, arms crossed, glaring at Mrs. Figg as the talons of his foot clicked on the hard wood floor.

"You're not magical?", Mrs. Figg asked.

"I don't know anything about that. Like I said, I am a digimon; I came from the Digital World, not the Material World".

Before the conversation could proceed, there was a new arrival.

"Mundungus Fletcher! What is the meaning of this?! Deserting your post, I don't know what Albus could have been thinking: putting his trust in an irresponsible git like you!"

Fletcher certainly looked the part, as he was as scruffy, and in need of a hot shower, as any street person, muggle or magical.

"Wuss dis awl boud? Whudai do? I jus taken care uv bidness. Godda line on a buyer fer meh cauldrons. Man's godda make a liven doan he?" Fletcher protested in self justification. Then he noticed the house guests.

Hoo dey be?", he asked. It was obvious that manners and this man were not well acquainted.

"They are the ones who were there to do your job while you were out peddling your stolen cauldrons. That's who they are. Harry was waylaid by dementors. If they hadn't come along... I don't want to think of the consequences".

"'Owsai possed ter know? Sides, dey wusunt stole, I foundem. Juss dropped outa ter sky, lost from a broom, mefinks..."

"A likely story", Mrs. Figg dismissed. "That's neither here nor there. You had a responsibility..."

'Menters here?! Thas naw sposed ter 'appen..."

"What's not supposed to happen is you to abandon your post and leave Harry unprotected. You know that He-who-must-not-be-named is out to get him. Now sit down and shut up", she ordered.

"Bleedin squib gibben orders", he muttered.

"What was that?", Arabella asked.


This Fletcher pulled out a dirty, black pipe. He put the tip of his wand to the bowl, and began drawing in these clouds of malodorous green fumes. Impmon wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions...", she continued.

"Damn straight", Impmon said.

"Let's hear her out", Jadin suggested. "Now, I haven't got the foggiest idea as to who you people are, or what you're hiding. As for these 'dementors', you seem to know all about them. All Iknow is that we were minding our own business when we saw what we took for a digital field, and the materialization of an unknown digimon. I thought it very strange: digital fields normally look like a fog bank, or thick mist, and they are very bright as you enter one. This looked exactly the opposite. When we confronted these dementors, we still thought they were digimon.

"I'm a Digimon Mentor" He pulled out his digivice. "That's what those of us who have been chosen by our partner digimon who come from the Digital World call ourselves. We also receive these digivices which allow us to communicate with our partners, identify any strange digimon we might happen to meet, and since the Digientelechia is located in the Digital World, it also evolves our digimon to higher levels; that's what Harry witnessed: digivolution.

"The Digital World exists as an alternate reality which is composed of pure data. It has no substance. Recently, the inhabitants, the digimon - short for digital monster - have acquired the ability to materialize themselves into our world as fully physical beings. How they do this, no one knows exactly. Despite the name, most digimon don't live up to the 'monster' part. However, some do, and it is these feral and destructive digimon who cross over who cause problems for all the digimon, like Impmon, who want to get along with this world. That's why they need human partners - Mentors - to instruct them into the ways of humans and the Material World".
"You destroyed the dementors?", Figg asked.

"You betcha: nailed 'em real good with my Champion level attacks", Impmon agreed. "The strangest thing, though, was there was no data. Not that I'd've downloaded it. I sensed these dementors were bad news".

"You are right: they are 'bad news'... I can't say I fully understand", Mrs. Figg explained. "We have a problem that you don't seem to have: the Ministry of Magic, and the International Law of Secrecy. The only ones who are allowed to know are magicals like Harry and Mundungus, their spouses, and squibs like myself who are born into magical families, but who don't inherit magical abilities. Even we are under the jurisdiction of the Ministry, and bound by the same laws. I will have to report this, but I can't say how the news will be received. I do have faith in Albus Dumbledore, that he will do the right thing. Though you have seen things you were never meant to see; know things you were never meant to know. And you have a companion who seems to be some sort of magical being..."
"That's not true", Impmon protested. "I am a citizen of the Digital World. We have nothing to do with this magical crap, and your Ministry has no claims on us. None of this concerns me or my partner..."

"I'm afraid that it does now", Arabella explained. "Regardless of what you claim, you look like a magical being and you have abilities that no muggle has; the Ministry claims jurisdiction over all magical beings. They may well decide that digimon are magical..."
"We aren't. This is technological", Impmon protested. "Just now, the inhabitants of the Material World are becoming aware of the Digital World".

"You, both of you, are in danger now. You destroyed two dementors, and that bit of knowledge will reach whoever sent them into a muggle area. You can't appreciate how brazen an act this was. He-who-must-not-be-named, or more likely, one of his minions inside the Ministry did this. They are going to want to know why the attempt on Harry failed, and what happened. He-who-must-not-be-named will find out. He will be especially interested since it was a muggle using muggle technology who's responsible".
"Muggle: what does that mean?", Jadin asked.

"People without magical abilities are called 'muggles' by those who have it".

"'E dun... wuh?!"

"Not now, 'Dung", she reprimanded.

"I don't know who...", Jadin began to ask.

"That's not important right now. I suspect that Mr. Dumbledore will be paying you a visit very soon. What you need to know is that He-who-must-not-be-named is a very dangerous character. He is the reason Harry Potter needs our protection, the reason Harry must stay here in Little Whinging. If he learns of the existence of new, powerful beings such as your digimon, he will take an interest in you. You don't want him interested in you. People who become interesting to him frequently wind up dead. I can't emphasize just how dangerous he is".
"So what are you saying?", Impmon asked.

"Be careful with whom you associate. I'll do my best to watch out for you, but my priority is the protection of Mr. Potter. The rest is up to Mr. Dumbledore".

"Who's this...", Jadin started.

"I've said more than I should have already", Mrs. Figg apologized. "For now, all you need to know is that Albus Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard, and he's a good man. You won't have any problem recognizing him".

Turning to Fletcher: "Get to Dumbledore at once, he needs to know everything. This time, no side trips, and don't fail us again".

Turning to Jadin and Impmon: "You two should go now, and do try to stay out of sight".

"What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into now?", Impmon asked as they left 11 Privet Dr.
"I have no idea", Jadin replied. "It looks like you're about to get your wish: things are gonna get interesting".