//------------------------------//
// Chapter 26: From Every Angle 
// Story: Magic School Days 
// by Dogger807 
//------------------------------//

Their heavy black robes did little to hide the stink of exhaustion as the Gryffindor herd shuffled slowly through the portal into the common room.  It was all Sweetie Belle could do to refuse Magah's offer.  Most of her classmates looked on with envy as the large unicorn attempted to maneuver her head under the flagging student.

In a chipper tone, Apple Bloom said, "Ah'm glad that's the last class for the day; I really worked up mah appetite."

With similar vigor, Dean replied, "I know what you mean.  I could eat a horse."

Ron and all of the native girls stopped and looked on in horror.  Dean looked back and asked, "Was it something I said?"

As she bounced impatiently, Scootaloo said, "Come on! He said 'horse', not 'pony'."

With an agonizing groan, the herd started moving again.

“I can’t believe we have to exercise during double defense!” Lavender complained as she collapsed onto a couch.  “I know he said it would be harder than normal, but really?  Having us run around like that?”

“It war only four laps around the Quidditch pitch,” Apple Bloom said encouragingly.  “It warn’t nothing. Soon, you’ll be doing that without thinking of it.”

“You lapped us!” Parvati protested.  “Twice!”

“We can’t help it you were going so slow,” Scootaloo said, sitting next to Harry as he poured himself onto the same couch.

“Scoots,” Seamus said, finding a vacant chair, “you have just way too much energy.  Just watching you and Apple run like that was exhausting.”

“Thar’s nothing like good old-fashioned exercise to get the blood flowing,” Apple Bloom said.  Sweetie Belle gave a half-hearted growl in response.

“At least Sweetie isn’t as bad as you two,” Ginny said, plopping down onto Harry’s lap.

“Hey,” Harry protested weakly at the extra weight, but Ginny just snuggled closer.

“Now you know what I have to put up with all the time,” Sweetie said, ignoring the chairs as she collapsed onto the rug in front of the couch.

“Oh good,” Fay said, entering the portal.  “You're all here!”

“We just got here,” Parvati confirmed, leaning against Magah.”

“Professor McGonagall wants the lot of you in her office right away,” Fay informed them.

“Does she want us to try another resurrection?” Hermione groaned, begrudgingly regaining her feet.  “I think Magah is still wary of the whole idea.”

“No.” Fay shook her head.  “I’m pretty sure you’re in trouble for something this time.”





There were grim looks on the faces of the goblins sitting around the large stone table.  Despite the opulent trappings in the bright cavern, the air itself seemed to flinch from their collective bad humor.

“Contact him again.”  The goblin in the largest chair ordered, “Remind him of the help the goblin nation has offered his clan in the past, in the form of loans.  Add another 5% to the offered price.  I don’t care; get those gems.  I want them in goblin hands before the week is out.”

“He seemed impressed by our original offer.”  Tricksno was standing several feet from the table with the attention of every goblin in the room firmly focused on his every word.  “But, he insisted that he needed to talk to the girls before he could accept.”

“You have until the end of the week,” the leader emphasized with a snarl.

“Yes Overseer!”  Tricksno nodded hastily.  “I’ll have the objects you desire by then.”

“What of the other seven?!” the Overseer demanded, dismissing the presence of the account manager.

“Four are once again in our possession,” another goblin at the table said.  “Two are currently part of the reparations awarded at the wizards' last government meeting.  Since the wizards are letting us take care of those transactions, it shouldn’t be that hard to switch them out for their galleon value once they sort out who is getting exactly what.  The current owner of the last one is being recalcitrant.”

“Find leverage to make him more responsive.”

“Yes Overseer.”

Suddenly, a runner dashed into the chamber and stopped a respectable distance from the assembled management.  The goblin was young and very low on the totem pole.  He visibly trembled where he stood waiting to be acknowledged, and a sharp smell let every goblin present know that he had wet himself.

“Yes?” the Overseer asked angrily; some goblin had sent a neophyte to deliver news instead of delivering it themselves.  Such a grievous breach of protocol could only mean that the news was far from pleasant.  There was a coward in the ranks.

The junior goblin began to shake even more violently as he reported, “Overseer, a team was moving the four newly-obtained gems to the deep vaults.  When they were passing the prime dragon, she broke her chains, ignored her handlers, and ate them.”

“The prime dragon ate a transfer team?” the Overseer asked in disbelief.

The goblin was now quaking so fiercely that ripples were appearing in the puddle forming at his feet.  “No, Overseer, she ate the gems.”  His voice cracked on the last few words.

Baring his formable teeth, the overseer yanked his dagger from its sheath and jumped to his feet.  Without a doubt, the wicked weapon was being brandished with the intent to kill.  Admirably, the young goblin stood his ground even as he saw death in the eyes of his leader while whitecaps formed in the pool at his feet.  Still snarling, the Overseer rethought his actions and slapped the dagger onto the stone table with a menacing clank.  "Who are you?" he growled.

"A-a-assis-sistant Run-run-run-runner B-b-bauxite."

“Who sent you to me with this news,” he demanded in a deceptively calm voice.

“S-s-s-s-super-v-v-visor C-c-c-coalfoot,” the young goblin stammered.

“Runner Bauxite, go tell Dunghandler Coalfoot that he is to personally sift through every dropping of our prime dragon until he retrieves every gem.  Then, he is to report directly to me.”





Nervously, twelve first-year students approached the door leading to the office of their head of house.  Magah sensed their mood as she trailed behind. Her ears perked as she scowled, looking about in a vain attempt to locate and eliminate the source of the disturbance.  The menace she radiated was ample warning to keep everyone else away.

Screwing up her courage, Apple Bloom raised a hand to knock awkwardly with the palm of her hand.  Silently, the door opened on its own and Professor McGonagall called out in a flat tone, “Come in children.”

Huddled together, the first-years obeyed as Magah brought up the rear.  Inside they found the Professor was not alone.  Philomena was perched on an elegant brass perch situated next to the desk and trilled a greeting at the sight of her charges.  Additionally, in a chair placed a little off to the side, a man sat with a serious expression on his face.

Magah glared at the witch behind the desk and snorted, pawing the floor.  Philomena trilled as she flew to the unicorn's withers.  Magah stood still, but continued glaring.  Philomena then returned to her perch.

“Daddy!” Ginny exclaimed.  She started forward and then, suddenly fearing to be sent home, she drew back, edging closer to Scootaloo for support.

“Come stand in front of my desk, children,” Professor McGonagall commanded.  Her stern demeanor ratcheted up the tension even further.

The first-years obeyed without a word.

Minerva let them stand there and stew for a full minute as she examined the expression on each individual.  Magah continued to glare daggers at the witch.  Finally, McGonagall said, “Kindly explain why you feel it necessary to acquire a spell specifically for killing large spiders.”

A casual observation showed all of the girls flinching even as the boys displayed various looks of surprise.

“Um,” Scootaloo ventured, “just in case we ran into some very large spiders?”

Professor McGonagall shifted her gaze to the girl and Scootaloo shrank back. “Are you telling me that you weren’t planning on hunting acromantulas?”

“They are right in the forest.”  Sweetie Belle opened her eyes as wide as they would go and gave the professor her best puppy dog look.  “You never know when one will wander out.”

Suddenly very happy that the girls were not in their natural pony forms, Minerva said, “I assure you, the wards are more than sufficient to keep them in the forest.”

“It can’t hurt to be prepared,” Dean said.

“A fifth-year student would be hard-pressed to survive an encounter with a single acromantula.  There’s a whole colony in that forest.”  Professor McGonagall informed the herd, “Even with a targeted spell, all of you would be nothing more than a quick meal for them.”

The children shuffled their feet under her gaze and no one dared say anything.

“We weren’t planning on going into the forest anytime soon,” Scootaloo muttered.

“I see,” Professor McGonagall said, then shifted her gaze directly to Apple Bloom.  “Miss Bloom, if you tell me that there were no plans to enter the forest this year, I will consider the matter closed.”

A look of dismay bloomed on the faces of both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle as realization struck.  Their eyes darted back and forth between Philomena and the professor.

“You’ve been talking to our families,” Sweetie Belle stated.

With a short nod, Professor McGonagall continued to lock her gazes with Apple Bloom, “Well?  Miss Bloom?”

“The colts didn’t know nuthin about the spell,” Apple Bloom answered.

“Very well.” Minerva stood up out of her chair.  “Since you did not say they knew nothing about entering the forest, that will be ten points from each of you and detention tomorrow with Mr. Filch.”  She let her eyes pierce each Gryffindor in turn.  “Do not let it come to my attention that you are still planning a foray into the forest.  You are much too young and much too inexperienced to even consider it.  We have just recovered from the one student death in centuries.  I do not mean to lose an entire class in exchange.”

Hermione let out a wail, “I’ve never gotten detention before in my life!”

Neville placed a placating hand on her shoulder.  “N-neither have I,” he said, completely overlooking the fact that he had been home-schooled.

A thin stream of tears leaked from Hermione’s eyes as she bit her lip and nodded her thanks.

“Have I made myself clear?” the professor asked and was rewarded by a round of nods and "yes ma’ams".  She continued to stare at them for another half minute before saying, “Then, with the exception of Misses Aloo, Bloom, Weasley, Belle, and Mr. Weasley, you are dismissed.”  She let her voice lighten a bit, “Please, do try to stay out of trouble, at least for the rest of the week.”  Magah visibly relaxed as the tension bled out of the room.

Once the rest of the children had left, Minerva said, “Mr. Weasley here has asked to speak to you all concerning family matters.  Arthur, please feel free to use my office, and I shall leave you to it.”

She, too, left the office, closing the door behind her.

“Well,” Mr. Weasley said, not leaving his chair, “you lot sure have had an interesting week.”  He reached out to pull his daughter into a hug as she got close.  “I am both very proud and very upset with you.  No parent should ever have to bury their children.  If you had gone hunting acromantulas, I wouldn’t even have been able to do that; they would have left nothing to bury.”

Guilty looks crossed the faces of all the children as they saw how serious the elder was.  “We’re sorry,” they chorused.

“'Sorry' isn’t going to be enough,” Mr. Weasley said.  “I want you all to promise not to enter that forest, not without a reliable adult, until after you’ve at least completed your O.W.L.S.”

“I’m surprised that you don’t want us to promise until after we graduate,” Sweetie Belle said, only to receive a punch in her arm from Scootaloo.

“I’ve seen enough already to realize that would be pushing my luck,” Mr. Weasley answered, releasing Ginny from the hug and placing her on his lap.  “I’ve been corresponding with Mrs. Belle and her friends via phoenix and owl all day now.  The alliance between families is now official and magically binding.  My wife and I are responsible for you while you are in Britain; likewise, my children shall abide their authority if they choose to travel to Equestria.  I don’t think you girls knew what you were signing when you acknowledged house Weasley, but you are now legally my wards when in Britain.”

“Okay,” the girls chorused.

“That brings us to the subject of money,” Mr. Weasley said.  “You authorized a spending account for each Weasley family member when you agreed to 10,000 galleons per year for each member.  At first, I was going to insist that this would be stopped, but something came to light when I was trading letters with Miss Sparkle.”

<Flashback>

“Thanks again Philomena,” Twilight said, accepting the scroll and unfurling it.

Philomena trilled happily in reply.

“Well?” Rarity asked, still wondering how to broach the subject of the large herd with her new pen pal.

“I asked him to describe the price of a loaf of bread to better understand the numbers he has already sent us,” Twilight said burying her nose in the scroll.  “It should give us a rough idea of the value of the funds the Crusaders have available.  Hmmm . . . what’s a knut?  Oh wait, he answers that in the next sentence.”  Twilight’s head shot up and she looked over at the financial records still waiting patiently on her desk.  Then, she looked back at the paper in her telekinetic grasp . . . then back at the papers on her desk.  Then, she stared off into space.

“What is it Twilight?” Applejack asked from where she was lying on the floor.  Not really being good at fancy mathematics, she had opted to just observe.

“We seem to have a small hiccup with the laws of supply and demand,” Twilight answered.

“Small?”  Rainbow Dash asked, “Exactly how small?”

“Approximately a dragon sized hiccup,” Twilight said.

“Are we talking Spike-sized or big freaking snoring dragon on top of mountain sized?” Rainbow asked.

“Top of the mountain,” Twilight admitted.  “Easily, top of the mountain.”

“So,” Applejack said, “they have a lot of bits, then?”

“Filthy Rich has a lot of bits,” Twilight replied with a shake of her head.  “Even without the gems in their vault that Arthur Weasley has already agreed to help sell, the Crusaders are working on a level slightly above that.”

“That’s more of a growl than a hiccup,” Rarity said serenely, “wouldn’t you say so, darling?”

“Your taking that awful calmly,” Rainbow Dash observed looking directly at Rarity.

“After the herd agreement, my available supply of shock has been severely depleted,” Rarity replied.

</Flashback>

“So, we have a lot of galleons then?” Scootaloo asked innocently.

“That is an understatement,” Mr. Weasley said, “which is why your families want me to collect your main vault keys from you.  They don’t want you to abuse them.  I have a discretionary spending key here for each of you.”

“Thank you.” Apple Bloom beamed, not at all worried about the loss of her main vault key.  “We also need a key each for Seamus, Dean, Harry, Hermione, Lavender, Neville, and Parvati.”

“I would be more shocked, but Mrs. Belle has already made a similar request,” Arthur said running a hand though his hair.  “She certainly is generous.  Arguing with me to accept these accounts for the Weasley clan was an experience.”

“She is the Element of Generosity,” Scootaloo agreed.  “Besides, we have to take care of our herdmates to the best of our abilities.”

“Speaking of frivolously spending absurd amounts of money,” Arthur said as he reached into his coat pocket and extracted a shrunken package, “the first half of your trunk order is complete.”

“Oooo, thank you.”  Sweetie Belle hopped around happily.

“You realize you cannot bring any more gems with you from Equestria?” Arthur said.  “You are not to speak of how common gems are where you come from.”

“Will we have enough to pay for all our years here?” Scootaloo asked worriedly.

“That will not be a problem, far from it,” Arthur answered. “With that question, you’ve proven the wisdom of your families keeping your main vault keys.  Until you have a proper understanding of the value of a galleon, you’ll be limited on what you may spend.  You have more than enough to play with as it is.  You have more than enough to support a family for a lifetime already at your disposal.”





Somewhere between here and there, Discord, in his mismatched glory, sat on a comfortable green plaid couch and stared out into the void.  The space around him was arranged in perfect symmetry, extending even to dimensions beyond the perception of mere mortals.  This preternatural order, however, was not the main source of unease for the avatar of chaos.

Until now, his plans had been going well.  In fact, they had exceeded all his expectations.  Despite his nature, he had evaluated every scenario, prepared for every contingency, and even built in redundancy upon redundancy.  The potential payoff was far too valuable, far too important, to allocate anything less than his maximum effort.

Now, without warning, four of his key pieces had been destroyed.  He had not used mere magic in their making; no, this was too important.  Instead, he had imbued each with a sliver of his own essence.  For him, it had barely been a sacrifice; it would grow back over time.  But, with each piece of himself that he had given up, he had fundamentally altered the very nature of his tokens.

His companion, sitting in a plump chair upholstered in a vivid pink, asked, “Will this upset your plans?”

“No. Euridice," Discord said, calmly and deliberately.  “When the time comes, I will only need six of them.  I made sure to make extras, but I still didn’t expect someone to destroy any, and surely not this soon.”

Euridice, a pretty blonde woman with a bandage wrapped around her eyes, lifted an orange mug a took a pull of ambrosia before saying, “Remember, you have my support in this endeavor.  Do not hesitate to ask if you find you need my help for anything.”

“I cannot thank you enough for your offer of assistance," Discord said gratefully lifting his own mustard yellow mug.  “There is more at stake than you can imagine."

“Ours is a lonely existence,” she replied.  “How could I not help you in this?”

“Still, you did not have to.  For that alone, I cannot tell you enough how much I appreciate your support.”

“After the help you’ve been giving me?”  Euridice placed her mug next to the scales on a conveniently placed side table.  “Even if you benefited as well, these acts are not to be taken for granted.”

Discord peered at the table she was using and wondered where she had found a piece of furniture that particular shade of puce.  Then, he wondered just how upset she’d be if he just put it out of its misery and burned it.





After their scolding, the remaining Gryffindor first-years were once again gathered in Ginny’s trunk, preparing to have tea.

“I can’t believe they caught onto us so quickly,” Seamus stated as he worriedly watched Hermione silently sobbing in her easy chair.

Lavender had sat on the arm of the chair and was quietly hugging the distressed girl.

“We were just being too obvious about it.”  Dean shrugged.  “I wanna know what the deal is with giant spiders.”

“Fay said there are giant spiders in the forest," Parvati said from the kitchen area. “So, we sent a letter asking about spider-killing spells; I guess they just connected the dots.”

“Hermione,” Neville said softly, “I’m sorry we got you in trouble.  Please, don’t be sad, you’ll make up your ten lost points in our next class and probably more to boot.”

“I’ve never gotten in trouble at school before.”  Hermione sniffed.  “My parents are going to be so disappointed.”

The rest of the room looked on silently, not knowing what to say until Dean blurted, “I wouldn’t worry about it.  You won’t see them for months and they’ll have forgotten about it by then.”

For some strange reason, this only made Hermione cry harder.

Unsure of what to do, Harry fidgeted in his chair and looked at Seamus.  Seamus looked back in turn and shrugged, saying nothing.  Awkwardly, the minutes passed.





The common room’s portal silently swung open and admitted the Crusaders plus two and a unicorn.  Once fully in the room, they were promptly beset upon by a pair of bookends.

“All right . . .”

“start talking.”

“You’ve been . . .”

“gone a long time.”

“Your friends already . . .”

“came back ages ago . . .”

“and Hermione was clearly crying . . .”

“but they went upstairs without . . .”

“answering questions.”

“Where were . . .”

“you and what . . .”

“did you . . .”

“do?”

Used to his brothers’ mode of speaking, Ron answered, “Dad was here; he spent most of the time chewing us out.”

The twins’ eyebrows raised in surprise, “Our father . . .”

“our loving tolerant father . . .”

“our loving highly understanding father . . .”

“spent all this time . . .”

“chewing you out?”

“We might add. . ."

“breaking our own record . . .”

"for duration. . ."

As one the twins narrowed their eyes and said, “explain.”

“Can’t this wait?” Ron started, “we just got . . .”

Once again, the twins spoke in tandem. “Sit!"

"Explain!”

Taking the twins literally, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle promptly sat on the floor and gave their best sorrowful expression in defense.  The twins glared at Ginny and Ron who wisely followed suit.

Magah watched the drama.  Sensing no ill intent from the older boys, she was beginning to suspect that her charges had done something wrong.  She gently nuzzled the first-years and retired upstairs.





“That is a most interesting spell,” Rarity said.

“An’ might useful too,” Applejack agreed.

“It was nice of Arthur Weasley’s wife to send it,” Rainbow noted.

“I’m just glad I managed to get it to work,” Twilight said.  “There are some notable differences in the way we cast spells.  Now, Philomena, we have just one more letter for you to deliver today.”





With great apprehension the raggedy man approached the derelict department store.  Passersby paid no heed to either the building or to him.  He was well aware that the face the building showed the public was just an illusion.  The building actually housed St. Mungo’s, the wizarding hospital.

He didn’t want to go in.

He needed to go in.

He needed answers.

He needed to know.

Had he been wrong all this time?

Shame warred with anger and shook his frame  as he crumpled a take-out menu from Lee Ho Fook's.   

He needed to know.

He was afraid to know.

Had his anger been misdirected?

Had he failed his packmate?

He was a failure; all that he had loved was gone.

Could he make amends?

Would he be accepted?

Would he be forgiven?

Did he deserve to be forgiven?

He needed to know.





Tricksno ran down the corridor a large wooden box held firmly in his grasp.  He was wasting no time; this was of the utmost importance.  He knew delay would not be tolerated.  Bursting into the well-lit cavern, it seemed to Tricksno as if none of the occupants had moved since he was last in the chamber.

Hurrying up to the large stone table, the goblin gingerly placed the box before his leader and the hastily backed away.

Without acknowledging the account manager, the Overseer reached out and lifted the lid for inspection.  Inside, resting on black felt, ten gems glittered in silent welcome.

The Overseer leaned back in his lavish chair and grinned widely.  The grin made a barracuda look friendly in comparison.





“You . . .”

“wanted . . .”

“to . . .”

“hunt . . .”

“acromantulas?!”

For Ginny this was a new experience.  She had never heard the twin’s voices hit that note before.  She decided it was an experience she didn’t want to repeat.

“They wanted to do what?” Percy demanded rushing down the last steps from the dorm rooms.  This couldn’t be good; he had hit the same note.





“Did you find out what happened?” Euridice asked as she welcomed her guest back into her home.

“They were eaten by a dragon.”  Discord grumbled, crossing his mismatched limbs and pouting, "The goblin's pet decided they would make a tasty snack."

“But the dragons around here don’t eat gems," Euridice said, bewildered.  “They are strictly carnivores.”

“This one apparently didn’t get the memo.”





“What our dear brother . . .”

“Percy . . .”

“is trying . . .”

“to say . . .”

“is that . . .”

“even though trips . . .”

“into the forbidden forest...”

“are practically a rite of passage . . .”

“for our house, . . ."

“Acromantulas are strictly . . .”

“to be . . .”

“avoided.”

“As fellow Gryffindors . . .”

“believe us . . .”

“when we say . . .”

“that acromantula hunting . . .”

“is a complete . . .”

“no go.”

“Quick question.” A sixth-year girl broke into the conversation. “Did you actually get the spider-killing spell?”

Stunned silence met her query as the twins and Percy turned to stared at her.

She huffed and said, “Really?  You didn’t think you were the only Gryffindors in the room?  Did you?”





Taking advantage of her mother going out to grocer's, Abagail slowly stirred the mixture on the stove.  She was carefully following the precise instructions written on some notebook paper, writing that she really ought not have been able to read.

“I’m not sure I want to drink this,” she said to the beetle resting on the counter.  The thickening liquid was starting to look too much like blood for her liking. “And how exactly are you going to infuse it with your power?”





Sweetie Belle nearly cried with relief when Philomena flashed into existence.  Here was an opportunity to put an end to the scolding.  How many times were they going to have to promise not to hunt acromantulas?!

“Philomena!” Sweetie exclaimed still sitting on the floor.  “I see you brought me a letter!”

Even Percy fell quiet as the room watched the phoenix land on Sweetie’s shoulder and offer an envelope.

Noticing that everyone in the room, including the twins, was hurriedly putting some distance between themselves and the delivery, Apple Bloom said, "Uh oh.”

Looking at the letter, Scootaloo asked, “Why is it red?”

Philomena trilled briefly before flashing out.





Professor McGonagall charged into the Gryffindor common room with her wand brandished.  A gradient in soot marked where the event had started, and clean streaks showed where everything and everyone had been. A quick glance showed the complete disarray.  Tables were flipped over. Chairs were toppled.  Students lay haphazardly about the room. Everyone and everything seemed to be half-covered in soot.  Near the entrance, five first years sat with their front sides coated in soot, blinking in surprise.

"What happened here?" she demanded.  "What was that horrid noise?"

"Uh," Percy said from where he lay, "Sweetie Belle's parents sent her an overcharged howler."

"I see," Professor McGonagall said lowering her wand.  "Is anyone badly hurt."

She got a few groans in response but a quick check showed no significant injuries.

"Very well," she said, "carry on."  She then left through the same portal through which she had arrived.