//------------------------------//
// Chapter 12: Vince  
// Story: Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses 
// by Unwhole Hole 
//------------------------------//

	Night had fallen, and Humph was sitting alone in a large room in the only chair that this particular house contained. This room had probably been intended as a grand ballroom by its original owner, but now it stood empty and dusty. Humph would not have minded hosting a ball, but it would be difficult to populate considering before the ponies he had had tops four friends. 
The only source of light was the bright moon outside and the embers in the fireplace across from him. A book was sitting next to him, unopened. Unlike Hogwarts graduates, he had a greater than fourth grade reading level, but at the moment he just had no urge to read. 
There was a patter of hooves from the hallway outside. Humph looked over his shoulder to see Fluttershy enter the room. 
“Oh,” she said, realizing that he was there. “You can’t sleep either?”
“I don’t sleep,” said Humph. “I never have.” 
“Oh,” repeated Fluttershy. She crossed the room and sat on the floor next to Humph. “I do sleep, but I couldn’t now. There’s too much howling outside.”
“Werewolves,” said Humph, pointing through one of the tall windows at the full moon. “And possibly a few wolfwears.” 
“Werewolves? Really?”
“Yeah. There’s a ton of them in the moors. I’m not really sure why.”
“Is Ivan going to be okay out there?”
“Ivan? Oh yeah. Of course. The werewolves don’t go near him.”
“Why?”
“Because in Soviet Russia, werewolves get bit by YOU. That and I think that potion of his repels wildlife.” 
“He gave me some of his potion. It didn’t taste good.”
“Really? What was it like?”
“It tasted like blood,” said Fluttershy. “But to me, everything tastes like blood.” 
“Everything?”
“Every. Thing.” 
“Well, that sucks,” said Humph, turning back to the fireplace. 
“Are you waiting for something?” asked Fluttershy.
“Vince. He should be here any- -” There was a sudden surge of fire from the fireplace, and a red-haired wizard stepped out without any apparent injury. “- -minute.” 
“Humph,” he said, sounding genuinely concerned. “I got your message and got over here as soon as I could.”
“Did you bring back Awl?” asked Fluttershy.
“What?”
“The owl. Did you bring it back?”
“Oh. That thing. Yeah.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the reanimated creature. It was as dead as usual, but it hooted loudly before he tossed it to Humph. Humph caught it and handed it to Fluttershy. 
“You know, it’s kind of weird,” said Vincent. “Almost anyone can make a human inferi. It’s not even hard. But almost nobody can make an animal work. And you somehow did it backward.” 
“Don’t you have an army of undead hounds?”
“Of course, but I’m me.” Vincent walked up to where Humph was sitting and pointed his long, black wand at the ground. A chair sprung up from nowhere and he sat down. Then, pausing, he cast a spell that produced a cushion for Fluttershy. “So, the situation’s pretty bad, isn’t it.”
“Yeah. Smugglers.”
“I know.”
“You know?” said Fluttershy. “How?”
“Because the Brotherhood has ears all over the place. I mean, we’ve even got at least five inferi working in the Ministry. Thought they would just, you know, tend the boilers, but one of them is actually on his way to becoming minister through promotions. Really says something about our politics when a brainless corpse can climb the latter that easily.” 
“What have you heard?” asked Humph. 
“Bad things,” said Vincent, his expression suddenly becoming serious. He leaned forward. “I’ve got news from a plant, a deep one.”
“Like a cabbage?”
“Like a- -no, not like a cabbage. It’s a dracaena. Come on, Humph, this is serious.”
“Sorry.”
Vincent paused, and then leaned in closer. “Word is, those smugglers? They’re acting under the orders of a Death Eater.” 
“So?” said Humph. 
“So?! It’s a Death Eater!”
“Yeah, and they’re the dominant political party right now. They control, like, a third of the Ministry.”
“No, not the sanitized Death Eater Party. I mean a real one. Mask, dark clothes, the whole shebang.” 
“What’s a Death Eater?” said Fluttershy, stroking the feathers of the dead but still moving owl that she was holding. “It doesn’t sound good. Not at all.” 
“They’re the remnants of an old political movement,” explained Vincent. “Followers of Lord Voldemort.” 
“Wait, who?” said Humph. 
Vincent’s eyes widened and his jaw fell open. “Wait. You’re joking?”
“No, I’m not joking,” said Humph, defensively.
“You’re- -you’re serious?” Vincent put his head into his hand. “Of course. Of all the people, I actually expect this out of YOU. Which is a little frightening. You know, He Who Must Not be Named? The Dark Lord? Come on, Humph, you were alive when it happened, I now you were!”
“Wait…the Dark Lord is named Voldemort?”
“Who did you think everyone was talking about?!”
“I don’t know! Nobody ever said his name! I assumed the ‘Dark Lord’ meant Zargothrax!”
“Zargo- -no, you imbecile, the Dark Lord is Voldemort! VOLDEMORT! How did you even get ‘Zargothrax’ out of that? He’s been dead for millennia!”  
“Voldemort,” said Fluttershy. She shivered. “I don’t like that name.”
“Of course you don’t. Nobody likes it.”
“What did he do?”
“See, you this makes sense. You’re an interdimensional horse. Voldemort ran a political movement over the end of the last century. Pureblood supremacy and all that nonsense. He was super popular. He got killed, though. Twice. By the same dude.”
“Who?” said Humph.
“You- -exactly how thick are you?”
“I’m not thick!” protested Humph. “I just don’t follow current events much! But I kind of know what you’re talking about now. Wasn’t this Volemert some sort of Grisenwald knockoff?”
“Voldemort. And yes. Basically. Except whereas Grisenwald was inept, Voldemort was obsessive about pointless things. Like attacking schools for some reason.”
“And fighting for a population the size of Perth,” added Fluttershy.
“That too.”
“But what would Death Eaters want with unicorn blood?”
“Yeah,” said Fluttershy. “It’s not made of death, so I assume they don’t want to eat it.” 
“My source says that one cell of Death Eaters is…” Vincent sighed. “They’re…actually trying to resurrect the Dark Lord.”
“Well that’s stupid,” said Fluttershy.
“What?”
“He got defeated. Twice. He clearly wasn’t very good at whatever he was doing.”
Vincent paused. “You know,” he said after a moment. “That’s not a bad argument. I mean, he did get defeated by a baby.”
“A baby?” said Fluttersy. “Seriously? Who gets killed by a baby?”
“Voldmort, apparently.” Vincent shrugged. “They say a killing spell rebounded. And no human life survives a killing spell, even a glancing one. Wizard rules.” 
“I’m just surprised you came up with a spell for killing. I mean, it’s just so…horrible. We don’t have anything like that at all in Equestria. We use magic for the benefit of ponykind.”
“Exactly the spirit that the Brotherhood of the Brown Finger is devoted to. Which is why we don’t take kindly to Death Eaters wasting out potential.”
“Aren’t, like, half of us former Death Eaters, though?” asked Humph.
“The operant word being ‘former’. The pink-fez’s put me in charge of checking the ranks, and I did. None of them are active Death Eaters. It’s not one of us. Unless it’s you, but frankly, well…” 
“I hope it’s not me,” said Humph. “That would be terrible. I hate hurting things.” 
“Trust me, it’s not. You’re tops a Discomfort Licker, hardly a Death Eater at all.” He became more serious. “But this is really an issue. We can’t have that blood falling into their hands. You need to keep those ponies safe.” He turned to Fluttershy. “Are you almost done with your gate?”
“No,” said Fluttershy. “It’s almost done, but I need more time and more parts.”
“I brought some of what you requested,” said Vincent, producing an envelope filled with various things. “But half the stuff you listed just doesn’t exist in this universe. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” said Humph. “We’ll find workarounds. There’s always a way.”
“Not if your ponies get stolen,” said Vincent. He stood up. “And it’s going to be a nightmare for us if Moldy Voldy gets back on his feet. The Ministry won’t bother to pursue him at all, they’ll just scapegoat us like they always do.”
“Can you help us?”
Vincent smiled. “Help you? I’m going to give this place protection enchantments that make the security around Hogwarts look like the American border. The northern one. I’ve got this one that will make people’s skeletons try to crawl out their mouths, and I’ve been just dying to use it!” 
“Thanks, Vince,” said Humph. “Just watch out for Ivan.”
“Ivan? You mean the one that lives near you? The Soviet?”
“Yeah. Sunflower’s here too.”
“Good to know,” said Vincent. “I’ll try not to wake her up. I don’t really want to get horse-kicked in the face. Again.” 
“You get used to it,” said Humph. 
“But do I want to?” 
Vincent laughed and started toward the door, removing his wand and beginning to mumble as he walked, shooting spells in apparently random directions. Fluttershy watched him go.
“Um…how old is he?” she asked. “Without the fez and dark castle, he looks- -”
“Super young? Yeah, he’s like, seventeen. A real prodigy. Could have gone to Hogwarts if he wanted to, or, since he’s mostly a Weasely, Durmstrang. Pureblood and all. Thing is, nobody’s as good at necromancy as he is. And they don’t take too kindly to that, well, anywhere.” 
“He’s kind of cute,” said Fluttershy. “And it really is nice of him to take his time to come here in the middle of the night to help protect us.” 
“Why don’t you go tell him that?”
Fluttershy blushed profusely and hugged Awl tightly, crushing the bird slightly in the process. “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. Besides, he’s, well, a he.” 
“Oh,” said Humph. Then. “Oh. How can you tell?”