It was almost midmorning, less than an hour since Harry fled Equestria. Harry and his three girlfriends sat on the pavement on the forest side of the street and watched the movers at Eleven Magnolia Road work. It was rather boring, truth be told, because the movers spent most of their time helping the little old lady pack inside the house. As a result, the four spent their time staring at an empty garden with a lorry parked in the garage drive. And watched the occasional car drive by.
“Phew,” said Apple Bloom, “Those things really stink when you’re up close to them.” She waved a hand in front of her face and wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“Yeah,” Harry said, “But they sure beat walking long distances.”
Then he saw someone he had hoped to avoid. “Aw shite,” he said under his breath. The fillies looked where he was looking. Coming down the street towards them were his cousin and his friends. Dudley had a big leer on his face and his friends were chuckling at something he had said.
“Well, well, well,” he said as he came closer, “What do we have here?” He frowned as Harry stood up, the girls doing the same a moment later.
“I thought you’d died when you disappeared so sudden like.”
“Any report of my death was an exaggeration,” Harry said dryly.
After a moment to mull that over, Dudley continued, “Mum and dad will be so disappointed. I don’t think they’ll let you inside.”
Harry shrugged. “Not gonna ask, anyway.”
“So, why ya here?” A sick smile briefly appeared. “Wanna try another round of Harry Hunting?”
Harry stared back at him, wondering if removing the bully’s ears would make him any uglier. He’d gotten quite good with his cutting spell. Lots of practice with timber-wolves tended to increase both one’s accuracy and stamina in casting.
Something in his expression unsettled Dudley. “So, who’re the birds?” He nodded his head at the three fillies.
“Friends of mine.”
“You got friends?” He frowned, then smiled. “Figures a poofter like you would only have girl friends.” His two mates leered at the girls.
Harry shrugged again. It was at times like this that he was acutely aware that he was shorter than anyone else his age. That here on Earth, in fact, all three girls were almost a head taller than he was. He rolled his neck.
The fillies watched and listened in great puzzlement. That this was the infamous Dudley Dursley was not in doubt. He was a bully, just like Diamond Tiara, except he seemed, somehow, more of a predator. And after the last year with Harry, the Cutie Mark Crusaders knew how to deal with predators. Scootaloo dropped behind them and looked around for signs of others. Sweetie Belle rolled her neck and shoulders and faced the bigger bully with Harry. Apple Bloom took a slightly wider stance, twisted her feet side-to-side, flexed her fingers, and narrowed her eyes at the two others with Dudley.
What would have happened next, Harry wasn’t sure, but he was prepared.
“Is there a problem here?” A woman in business attire had appeared beside them. Harry recognized her as one of the Royal Scouts.
Dudley smiled awkwardly, “Oh, no problem, ma’am. Just saying hello.”
Only Harry and the fillies noticed the slight glow coming from just into the hairline above the Scout’s forehead.
The other two boys straightened and smiled as well.
None of the boys fooled the hard-eyed woman staring at them.
And they knew it. Dudley was the first to break. “Well, I guess we’ll be going.” He turned and walked back up the street. “See ya later, ya dumb berk,” he called over his shoulder.
The transformed Guard watched until the trio was out of sight. “Are you all alright?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the four chorused.
“Perhaps you should return to our camp.”
“Awww,” was the disappointed reply from them all. Watching what little activity there was on a Saturday morning in Little Whinging was vastly more entertaining than sitting in a Guard camp watching the trees grow.
But they dutifully followed her back anyway.
They arrived at the camp just as the solicitor came out of the portal tent. He looked more than a little stunned at all he had seen. He looked at Harry, and said, barely loud enough for them to hear, “She made the sun move in a figure eight.” He looked off into the distance. “Then her sister just . . . appeared. She pulled the moon up and they orbited each other. Then they chased each other. The two Princesses seemed to quite enjoy themselves.”
Harry nodded glumly. “Yep. Told ya she moves the Sun. And her sister moves the Moon at night.”
Mr. Yueshi just looked at him, then shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
Twilight came up to them, still fiddling with the straps on her dress, her purse floating beside her.
He tilted his head slightly. “And magic is real.” He took a deep breath. “As I said, I’ll get right on the embassy paperwork, and making sure I get as much of the surrounding land as I can for you, Princess,” he said to her as he politely nodded his head.
Twilight sighed. “Just call me Twilight, please.”
“Of course,” he murmured. “By your leave, Princess,” he nodded again, and slowly walked away towards the playpark, his forehead creased in thought.
Twilight sighed and looked over to one of the Guards, who swiftly nodded, and started to follow the man.
Now that he was fully briefed, they didn’t want anything to happen to him. In his current dazed condition, he might walk in front of one of those car things, without noticing, and get hurt.
Harry and the fillies spent the rest of their day back in Equestria. But only after Harry verified that Princess Celestia had returned to Canterlot.
۸- ̰ -۸
Sunday morning started off with a guard bringing a message from their solicitor stating the house at Eleven Magnolia Road was now vacant and they could move into it. Which they did, after breakfast at Apple Bloom’s home.
“Looks pretty normal to me,” said Apple Bloom, turning in place as she examined the couch, chairs, and end tables in the sitting-room. “Except, what’s that thing?” She pointed to a wood-grained box, its entire front a very dark grey glass panel that had left her guessing at what it could possibly be.
She looked over at Harry.
Harry was still standing in the entryway staring at a small door only slightly taller than himself, underneath the stairs leading up to the first floor. He was shivering. Scootaloo was halfway up those stairs and Sweetie Belle was already in the kitchen.
Apple Bloom walked over to him and bumped him with her shoulder.
He startled, and looked at her, his eyes wide. It took a moment for him to focus on her. “Um,” he said, “Yeah. I’m fine.”
She pointed at the box again. “What’s that?”
He looked at where she pointed and nodded. “Oh. Um. That’s the telly.” He walked over to it. “It shows those plays I told you about. Here,” he said bending over and turning it on. It was already set to BBC One.
A colourful screen appeared with a woman wearing a costume covered in dots. Harry stared at it a moment, then said, “Ah! This is Playdays. It’s a preschool show for little kids, foals just learning about numbers, the alphabet, stuff like that.” He looked at Apple Bloom who was watching the show intently. “Her name is Dot,” he added, “from the dots on her clothes.”
The sound of the telly quickly caught the attention of the others and soon the entire group, adults and fillies, were in the sitting-room, oh-ing and ah-ing over the strange device.
The rest of the day they spent shopping — while the furniture remained in the house, the kitchen was bare of what Harry considered sensible food for the Equestrians. Not to mention that they needed to get other incidentals such as soap, shampoo, towels, and more clothes. And, of course, a VCR with at least twenty films to more properly demonstrate the telly’s capabilities. Harry would finally get to see the films he had always heard about from Dudley’s bragging — Star Wars, The Princess Bride, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Star Trek, Batman, and a bunch of others.
Waitrose provided a good deal of their needs, making it convenient. The mares appreciated the large section at the front of vegetables, fruits, and cheeses. They almost lost Pinkie to the bakery section, but Applejack managed to convince her that the management wouldn’t like non-employees taking over their bakery. The canned-goods section amazed them, and he noticed Twilight taking notes. Not that they were canned, but the sheer quantity and variety.
“Is that what I think it is?” Applejack stated flatly, staring through the glass counter in front of the butcher shop section. Harry tried to shepherd the others past it and back into the canned items isle, but it wasn’t working. Twilight, surprisingly, said softly, “AJ, I told you that humans were omnivores, that they eat meat. And that the humans are the only sapients.”
Applejack grumbled, but allowed Twilight to herd her away. Rarity simply walked past with her eyes closed, shuddering. Fluttershy, to Harry’s surprise, studied the selections displayed closely. When he walked over to her he could hear her muttering. “Oh, Mr. Bear would like some of that,” “This would last Mr. and Mrs. Ferret for a long time,” and “That’s an interesting way to package it.”
Maybe not so surprising considering how many of her animal friends were meat-eaters. And here she didn’t have to worry about one of her friends dining on another.
Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo, on the other hand, were almost drooling over the seafood selections.
And, Harry realized, Pinkie Pie was once more trying to sneak into the bakery section.
Still, they managed to get all their grocery and incidental shopping completed by lunchtime.
Which was when the mares and fillies discovered that daisy sandwiches do not taste nearly as good to humans as ponies.
“Blech,” said Rainbow Dash, making a face of disgust, “this barely has any taste at all!”
“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, putting her sandwich down.
Harry shrugged at every pony’s agreement. “Humans eat meat, that’s what our taste buds are designed for. We just don’t find plants as tasty. Fruits, yeah, that’s all that sugar. But regular plants? Not so much. We eat them for the roughage and some minerals.”
The others considered his words, then nodded in understanding.
“But, meat?” complained Rarity.
Harry shrugged again. “According to what I was taught in primary, humans need to eat meat to stay healthy. There are ways to be strictly vegetarian, but it’s really difficult to get all the vitamins and minerals you need without adding meat and protein.” He paused and frowned, “Especially if you are really active.” He looked over at Dash and Scootaloo. “Maybe that’s why pegasi like to eat fish every now and then.”
Rainbow and the filly looked at each other and shrugged as Fluttershy nodded.
Rarity and Pinkie Pie each shuddered while Twilight just sighed. The apple pies that AJ pulled out of her soft briefcase were a big hit, although, once again, every pony was surprised at how bland they were compared to what they were used to tasting.
The rest of the afternoon was spent watching the three Star Wars films, to much acclaim by all the viewers. In the evening they watched Raiders of the Lost Ark.
The Equestrians wanted to live in Equestria and use the portal as needed, but Twilight was unsure if the magic used on Earth to address Harry’s letters would reveal their secret. She felt it would be safer if he remained in residence on the Earth-side of the portal along with the fillies. That meant the younger ones had to be chaperoned.
The mares decided that Twilight and Rarity, being alicorn and unicorn, respectively, would stay at the house while the others would use the portal. Rarity insisted that Twilight take the biggest bedroom while she took the second. The fillies would share the third, and Harry would get the smallest bedroom.
This was, of course, temporary, until three mores houses became available. Then each of the families would have a separate home. The guards and other Embassy personnel would take the additional houses in the neighbourhood until a proper Embassy could be built.
They decided to wait until the next day to send back Harry’s letter.
۸- ̬ -۸
“Where is our little dumpling?” asked Petunia, as she walked into the sitting-room Sunday evening, “The ham is almost done!” The aroma of the evening dinner roast permeated the little house, fighting with the baked potatoes and beans in a delicious battle that had her husband’s mouth drooling.
“The little scamp will be home any moment, I’m sure,” said Vernon jovially as he watched News and Sport on BBC Two.
The knocking at the door was unexpected.
“I’ll get it,” sighed the thin woman, “I’m closer anyway.”
“Tell ’em we’re not buying what they’re selling,” admonished her overweight husband.
“Hello? Oh?” she said as she opened the door and saw three constables standing there, their car at the street curb. Little Whinging Police proudly proclaimed the lettering on its side.
“Good evening, ma’am. I am Detective Inspector Appleby and this is Sergeant Williams. We’re from the Little Whinging Police Department,” said the closest officer to the door. The man to his left and slightly behind him nodded his head. “Is this the Dursley residence?”
Recovering herself, Petunia said, “Oh, yes. Yes it is.”
“Excellent!” said the officer at the expected answer. “Are you Petunia Dursley?”
Curious, she answered, “Yes. Yes I am.”
“Is your husband, Mr. Vernon Dursley, home?”
She frowned slightly. “Yes, he is.”
“Who is it, pumpkin?” called Vernon from the sitting-room, annoyed she had not yet driven off the salesman he knew must be bothering them.
“It’s the constables, dear.” She answered. Then she gasped. “Is it Dudley? Has he been in an accident?”
“No. Ma'am. May we come in?”
“Constables? At this time of day? On the weekend?” The sounds of someone large struggling to his feet reached them.
Petunia stepped back, worriedly opening the door wider, “Yes, of course.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” the Inspector said as they three moved into the house.
She led them into the sitting-room, where her husband was standing.
“What is this about?” Vernon asked firmly.
“I’m Detective Inspector Appleby, this is Sergeant Williams, and this is PC Barbara Havers.” He paused and looked at the two in front of him. “What can you tell me about your nephew Harry Potter?”
The Dursley’s gasped. Vernon took a short step back and Petunia put her right hand on her chest. Vernon’s face started to turn red. “We haven’t seen that freak for over a year,” he said disparagingly.
The sergeant was taking notes. The PC looked around the room and noticed that all the pictures in view featured either a very fat boy or the Dursleys with the same fat child. There were no signs that there might be a fourth member of the family.
“Not since we sent him off to St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys,” he continued. “He was just too much of a handful for us.”
“Funny that,” said the Detective Inspector. “We contacted St. Brutus’s after a few of your neighbours mentioned them, and they’ve never heard of Harry Potter. Nor do they have any records of anyone by the name of Dursley communicating with them.”
“Oh,” said Vernon, taken aback. He had never prepared for anyone actually checking his story. “Well, they must have misfiled the records!” he blustered.
“Detective Inspector? I think you should see this.” The PC was standing by the open under-stairs cupboard door.
“Hey now!” the overweight man said, “What are you doing?”
The DI ignored the man and took a look inside. The childish drawing on the wall inside, which said Harry’s Room, drew his attention. It was partially hidden behind a coat. He studied the stained and worn cot jammed inside the cupboard under the hanging coats. He straightened. “Better call a forensic team,” he said to the Sergeant. “No one has seen the child for over a year now.”
The evening had taken a sudden turn for the worst for the Dursleys. Dudley, when he came home, didn’t help matters. Even the smartest eleven-year-old is no match for carefully worded questions from an adult. And Dudley wasn’t the sharpest knife in the utensil drawer, not by a long shot.
The scandal of seeing the Dursley’s led away in handcuffs by the constables while Dudley went — screaming — with a team from Child Services drew everyone’s attention. The gossips devoted themselves to telling everyone they just knew something had been wrong with the Durselys. Some even claimed that this past year they had suspected foul play regarding that poor Harry Potter boy. And all conveniently forgot the years they had spent vilifying the child as a layabout, thieving, little hoodlum. It also drew their interest away from the rumours that someone was going through the neighbourhood asking if people were willing to sell their homes. And closing the deals with remarkable efficiency.
۸- ̬ -۸
“AHH!” Harry yelled on opening his bedroom door Monday morning to find both Twilight and Rarity in the hall. Twilight was about to knock on his door, and Rarity was knocking on the girl’s door. The real surprise was that both were completely nude.
Harry slapped his hand over his eyes and stumbled back into his room.
“What’s wrong Harry?” Twilight asked as he tripped and fell back onto his sofa bed. Rarity and the others quickly appeared, wondering what had happened. The fillies, like the two adults, were nude.
“You’re all naked!” he exclaimed, still keeping his hand over his eyes.
He knew Twilight was looking apologetic, Rarity was looking puzzled, and the fillies were probably rolling their eyes. But he refused to lower his hand.
“You shouldn’t do that, especially where I can see you! If I had ever seen Aunt Petunia naked she would have beaten me until I couldn’t stand, and then had Uncle Vernon do the same when he got home! And we can get into trouble if you do that! Get dressed before you leave your bedroom! Go on, do it!”
With much grumbling the females all vacated his room. After a minute, he peeked carefully before heading down to the kitchen and starting coffee for the mares while putting fruit juices out for the girls.
“I’m sorry,” Twilight said as she entered the kitchen, the others doing the same as they came in.
“It’s alright,” Harry said. “We’re going to have to go clothes shopping for you all, getting you more dresses, as well as sleepwear.”
Rarity looked up, surprised, “You even wear clothes to bed?”
“Yes. And there are even robes to wear to and from baths. Like at Ponyville Day Spa, only in your home.”
Monday was Harry Potter’s very first lesson in why men, and boys, hate shopping for clothes with women and girls. Although he did almost nothing, by the time they returned to the house he was exhausted.
That evening, after dinner, they brought the Hogwarts owl back from Sweet Apple Acres and then gave him Harry’s response, which stated, succinctly, that he wouldn’t attend the school unless his three friends did, too.
Then they watched the two Back to the Future films.
۸- ̰ -۸
Tuesday for Professor McGonagall started the way it usually did at this time of the year — a stack of letters arriving in her office just before the acceptance deadline. This year, however, she had waited on tenterhooks, metaphorically speaking, of course, for that one letter. The letter that heralded the return of the one who had saved Wizarding Britain from an oppressive dictatorship. The letter that heralded the return of the son of her favourite student. The letter from Harry Potter.
She did not squee like a little girl when the flick of her wand yanked a letter from the middle of the pile the house-elves had left on her desk.
Which is what she told the Headmaster later when, at breakfast with the other professors, he insinuated that she had. “Nonsense.” She said, “As you can see yourself, I only now discovered his letter this moment while perusing the morning post!” She had made a point of opening the letters at breakfast for the last few weeks. She had, of course, pretended not to know the boy’s letter was in the pile she carried in with her from her office. She fooled no one except Hagrid, Dumbledore was amused to note. Not with the big grin she had tried to hide while walking into the hall.
Opening and reading it, to the eager anticipation of her associates, she frowned, then reread it. “Oh, dear,” she said quietly, handing the letter to the Headmaster.
The old wizard read the letter frowning. He turned it over to see the return address. His frown deepened. Then he reread the letter.
“Is something wrong, Headmaster?” asked Professor Flitwick.
Professor Snape, the Potions professor, snorted, and said disparagingly, “The spoiled brat is probably making unconscionable demands. Typical.”
The Headmaster ignored them. “Are you familiar with these children?” He handed the letter back to his deputy Headmistress. She studied the letter. “Scoot Aloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom.” Her mouth tightened and she studied the letter intently. She shook her head slightly. “I’ve never seen names like these.” She glanced back up at the Headmaster. “Even for muggles, these are most unusual.”
The frowning potions professor gave an almost imperceptible nod of agreement.
“Could they be in the Acceptance Book?” asked Headmaster Dumbledore.
“Perhaps. The letters are magically addressed and given to the owls by the house-elves.” She pushed her chair back and started for the side door to the hall. “I’ll check the book.”
An hour later she entered the Headmaster’s office.
“Well, my dear,” said the old wizard, “What have you discovered?”
She seated herself on the chair in front of his desk and she shook her head, “They are listed,” she stated. “But when I asked if Slinky or any of the other owl house-elves remembered owling them their letters, he said, yes, popped away, and came back a moment later with these.” She held up three sealed letters. She looked Dumbledore in the eyes, “He said they had just appeared in the owl-post slots for sending this morning.”
“Wonderful! That satisfies Harry’s request that they be allowed to attend, then.” He nodded happily. “But why so late, I wonder?”
She frowned. “And they have the same address as Mr. Potter’s letter.” She placed them on his desk.
“Do they now?” he said, intrigued and picking them up to examine.
“Apparently they live together.”
“Most unusual,” muttered the old wizard, glancing at his monitoring trinkets. None of them showed anything amiss. “Perhaps he was staying over the weekend when his letter went out?”
She sighed. “I’ll visit them tonight with the normal Muggle-born Introduction booklet.” She looked up at the Headmaster. “At least we know he is alive and well. And has good friends.” The headmaster looked more disturbed than pleased, to her surprise, and his gaze was directed thoughtfully over her head.
۸- ̰ -۸
A grey cat with black stripes, and black squares around its eyes tied together over her nose with a single black stripe — somewhat reminiscent of spectacles — sat on the front window ledge at number Twelve Magnolia Road and stared at number Eleven Magnolia Road across the street. The family there seemed to interest the cat as it closely observed everything the four children and six adults did. Which, oddly, seemed to be having a film marathon. She would have liked to be closer, but the lack of any convenient trees meant she would have had to be on their window sill, and she would have been noticed long before now.
The cat had arrived shortly after five o’clock, just before the normal rush of cars heralding the return of the breadwinners to their homes. For some reason, there appeared to be fewer of them than normal for such a residential neighbourhood, especially at this end of the street. In fact, the very house which the cat was using as a post was vacant, and recently so, from the scents that the cat detected. And the houses at number Ten and Thirteen had a mover’s lorry parked in their garage drives.
Finally, at seven o’clock, when it became apparent that no automobile was going to be arriving at number Eleven, the cat jumped down and ran to the side of house at number Twelve where the early evening shadows were deepest. Moments later, a woman walked out and headed across the street, the setting sun casting her long shadow down the street.
She didn’t notice the woman watching her from several houses down at the opposite end of the street.
۸-_-۸