//------------------------------//
// 52 — Snape’s Worst Nightmare 
// Story: If Wishes were Ponies . . . . 
// by tkepner 
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Harry examined the schedule during breakfast on Friday.

“Double Potions with the Slytherins?” said Ron, looking up from his copy. “Snape’s. The twins said he always favours the Slytherins. He’s their Head of Slytherin House. We’ll see if it’s true.”

Harry sighed. Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn’t stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework. “Wish McGonagall favoured us.”

It was colder down in the dungeons, where Potions lessons took place, than up in the main castle. It was quite creepy enough without adding the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Those grossed out and upset the fillies, making them turn a little green.

Harry and the fillies seated themselves and pulled out their quills and paper.

Snape, like all the professors, started the class by taking the roll call. However, like Flitwick, he paused when he reached Harry’s name.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity.” He spaced out the syllables of the last word.

Harry and the fillies exchanged puzzled looks. What had Harry done to deserve that kind of reaction? Harry had the feeling that Professor Snape was going to be inordinately strict.

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle stupidly sniggered behind their hands as if the professor had made a joke. After taking attendance, Snape looked up at the class. While he had black eyes like Hagrid, they were cold and empty, not full of warmth.

His introductory speech was spell-binding, but the ending note, “. . . if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach,” was sour, and indicated his disdain for the class.

Afterwards, the only sound Harry could hear was the faint scritching of his and Sweetie Belle’s quill taking notes. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the fillies exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to prove that she wasn’t a dunderhead.

Snape stared at Harry — or was he staring at Harry’s quill taking notes? — sneering.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly, making everyone jump. “If I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would I get?”

Hermione’s hand shot up into the air.

Harry was glad he had taken the time last night for one more walk through his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. He thought, remembering. Fortunately, the text usually mentioned the most common uses for each of the items listed. “Sir,” he said respectfully, “asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death.”

The professor looked disgruntled at his answer. He pursed his lips, then said, “If I told you to find me a bezoar, Potter, where would you look?”

Hermione began urgently waving her hand.

Harry considered his answer. “I would get it out of my kit, sir, as it is one of the regular items in a First Year’s Potion’s Kit.”

The professor frowned and his eyes narrowed, clearly displeased. “And if it weren’t there?”

“Then, sir, I would check the hospital stores here at Hogwarts as it is a common cure for most poisons. If that failed, I would see if there were any goats around because a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, sir”

The professor looked furious.

Harry couldn’t understand what was upsetting the wizard. Wasn’t he answering the questions properly? Wasn’t he being respectful? Or was he going to be like Uncle Vernon? Quick to criticize and take offense at anything you said.

“What is the difference, Potter,” he said softly, “between wolfsbane and monkshood?”

Hermione stood up, her hand as high as possible.

Harry smiled, he could almost see the text from his book floating in front of his eyes. “They are the same plant, sir, which also goes by the name of aconite.”

Snape was not pleased with Harry’s answer, almost grinding his teeth together.

“Sit down,” he snapped at Hermione. “Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?” He said to the rest of the class, and then now glared at Harry’s quill.

Over the noise or everyone rummaging for quills and parchment, Snape said, “And I will take a point from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter.”

Snape began the lesson by putting them all into pairs, and then set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils.

Unfortunately, he paired Neville with Sweetie Belle, both of whom were sitting beside Harry and Bloom. Harry hoped Neville might be able to prevent a catastrophe.

Apple Bloom shot to her feet, hand raised high, “Professor Snape! I think Sweetie Belle should have me as a partner and Neville, Harry!”

As one, the entire class turned and stared at the obviously insane Gryffindor, then turned and stared at their professor.

Professor Snape glared at her, one eyebrow raised in disdain. “Oh?” he sneered.

The class turned to Apple Bloom.

Apple Bloom, from years of being glared at by her sister in the aftermath of a Cutie Mark Crusade, shrugged it off and continued. “Yes sir. The last time we let Sweetie Belle fix something she set the kitchen on fire!” She lowered her hand.

The class turned to their professor.

The bat-like wizard stiffened at the perceived insult, “The art of potion-making is nothing like mere cooking,” he sneered angrily. “Cease your pathetic attempt at hiding your abysmal abilities by shifting attention to another. Start your assignment.”

The class turned to Apple Bloom.

“But sir,” Apple Bloom persisted, “She was getting’ us ice cream from the ice box!”

The class turned to stare at Sweetie Belle, who was standing with her hands on her hips staring angrily, in turn, at Apple Bloom.

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes and, after a quick glance at the red-faced and glaring Sweetie Bell, said, “Nonetheless, unless you wish a detention this weekend, be quiet and get to work!” After a barely a moment’s pause, he added, “And a point off for questioning my judgement.”

Apple Bloom sighed. “Yes, sir!” She muttered to Harry, “Well, I tried.”

The Slytherins closest to Sweetie Belle took a long look at the red-faced girl and began moving their books and equipment to other desks — ones at the edge of the classroom. The Gryffindors on her other side watched the Slytherins, wide-eyed, and decided to follow their example. Soon, Sweetie Belle and Neville were surrounded by a ring of empty desks except for Harry and Apple Bloom.

While Sweetie and Bloom were at the cabinet getting the supplies not included in their potion’s kits, Harry urgently whispered, “Neville!”

Neville turned to look at him.

“Keep a sharp eye on Sweetie Belle, she’s horrible at following cooking instructions! Her sister banned her from setting foot in the kitchen. She's not even allowed to go in to get a glass of water!”

Neville gave him an uncertain nod and watched Sweetie Belle return with nervous apprehension.

Professor Snape criticized everyone except Malfoy. He watched them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when there was a loud sneeze, a yelp, and then clouds of bright lavender smoke filled the dungeon. Neville and Sweetie Belle had managed to mess up their potion. Harry couldn’t see anything through the smoke except the bottoms of their tables and stools. The class abandoned their cauldrons and began to spill out into the corridor, coughing little lavender puffs as they tried to clear their lungs.

“Idiots!” snarled Snape in a high pitch, clearing the smoke with a wave of his wand. “What did you do?” He had a bubble of clear air around his head.

Sweetie Belle and Neville quailed under his menacing stare. The Slytherins, those that weren’t still coughing a bit, snickered. Then gasped as they stared at their Head of House with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Sweetie Belle took a breath, coughed, then tried again. “It was almost time to add the porcupine quills when I saw a hair just inside the cauldron, so I grabbed a porcupine quill and used it to hook the hair.” She coughed lightly. “But the potion’s smell made me sneeze and I dropped the quill and hair into the cauldron. Then that lavender smoke started to pour up!”

One of the Slytherin girls suddenly yelled, “I’m a boy!” A second later one of the boys screeched and yelled, “Merlin, I’m a girl!” He was grabbing himself through his robes. Snape’s eyes suddenly widened as he looked down. Then he turned and glowered at the two Gryffindors. If looks could kill, both Neville and Sweetie Belle would have exploded into flames.

Chaos reigned for several seconds as the Gryffindors and remaining Slytherins confirmed that the lavender smoke had, indeed, reversed their genders as well.

“To the hospital wing,” Snape spat at them in a surprising soprano tone. Then she rounded on Harry and Apple Bloom, who had been working next to Neville.

“Potter — why didn’t you tell her to use one of her stirring rods? Thought she’d make you look good if she got it wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

Harry was so flummoxed at the unfairness of the accusation that he could only stare and gape as the professor turned back to Neville and Sweetie Belle.

As they headed for the hospital wing, Harry mulled over what had happened. His ire rose as he considered how that hack of a professor dared to criticize him and take a point for something he had no control over. He scowled angrily at the floor, wondering how he could take revenge.

Plus, he was now a girl! How could things get worse?

He heard Ron mutter, “I sure hope the Hospital Matron can fix this!” Harry felt like kicking Ron for jinxing them.

Naturally, she couldn’t.

“You’ll have to wait until it wears off!” Madam Pomfrey had said. “If it doesn’t wear off in a week, we’ll call St. Mungo’s.”

Even changing to ponies and back, didn’t cure Harry and the other animagi. Even as ponies their genders were still reversed. And it felt so weird! 

No matter which form they had had originally.

But it was amusing to watch the girls-turned-boys as they tried to walk and sit the way they normally did, and certain things got in the way or were painfully pinched.


۸-ꞈ-۸


Even though it was a nice afternoon outside, the Gryffindor First Year cohort huddled in the Gryffindor common room. They resolutely worked on their assignments in an attempt to take their minds off what had happened in Potions Class. The occasional snickers and broad grins whenever an upper-year student looked at them were bad enough, they didn’t dare think how the rest of the school would react.

Harry assumed the Slytherins were holed up in their common room doing the same thing for the same reason. Or, holed up in an empty room in the dungeon, considering their Head of House’s white-hot temper at his — or was it her? — unwanted sex-change.

While they knew it really wasn’t their fault, most of the Firsties couldn’t help but scowl at Sweetie Belle and Neville. Harry, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom tried to be supportive, but both Neville and the poor filly were still depressed over their failed first potions’ lesson. And its aftermath.

The twins, when they showed up after their last class were delighted at Sweetie’s genius, as they called it, for inventing a gender-swap potion. They grilled her and Neville carefully for half an hour before begging them for a few hairs and then running back out into the castle. Harry shuddered at what they might produce with that information and hair. He had already heard of their many prank exploits.

So it was, that the Gryffindor Firstie cohort managed to finish all their weekend assignments shortly before their dinner. They tried to beg out of it, but Percy and the other Prefects were merciless. “A simple potions accident is not reason to skip dinner,” was the ruling. As a result, most of dinner was spent with the rest of the school snickering and laughing at the unfortunate First Years as they tried and failed to be inconspicuous. The only good point was that the Slytherin students were heckled worse than the Gryffindors were.

Not surprisingly, Professor Snape did not make an appearance at the Head Table, to Professor McGonagall’s immense amusement. 

Not to mention the out-right laughter of most of the rest of the school that didn’t have the potions’ professor as their Head of House whenever it was mentioned. 

After dinner was when the latest difficulty appeared. The stairs turned into a slide just a moment after the first girl-transformed-into-a-boy stepped onto them. Dean discovered that a boy-transformed-into-a-girl could easily walk up the steps. While it wasn’t a pressing issue at the moment — the witches still wanted their “cuddle” time with the ponies — as Ron said, accompanied by a shudder, “No way am I going to sleep in the girl’s dorm tonight!” 

Several of the upper-year girls and boys snickered at this declaration. “You’ll be singing a different tune in a few years, my boys, if you have such an opportunity,” Harry heard one murmur.

Percy, on seeing their problem, said, “I’ll go get Professor McGonagall,” and started for the Gryffindor door.

“Neigh. No need to do that,” Sweetie Belle said. “Alicia,” she said to the chaser, who was laughing at the First Years’ difficulties, along with the rest of the students still in the common room. “Would you please get my trunk? We can use it to get to Apple Bloom’s trunk and skip the stairs completely.” While they waited for her to return, she added, “And we can use the two trunks’ bathrooms to get ready for bed.” And forestalled Percy’s complaint about how inappropriate it would be for the girls-turned-boys to use the Girls’ Dorm facilities. Because, of course, they were now boys.

It took less than ten minutes to fetch the trunk and determine that that was a workable solution. 

Later, when the Firsties’ curfew arrived, Harry shook his head resignedly and trudged up the stairs to his room, the other boys . . . girls, trailing him. They used his trunk’s bathroom to get ready for bed — one at a time. None wanted the others to see himself as a girl in anything less than pyjamas — bottoms and tops.


۸- ̰ -۸


Also that evening, in the Headmaster’s meeting room, the Headmaster leaned back in his chair. He was waiting for the professors to come in after dinner for their scheduled first-week analysis of the First Years.

After two years of dealing with the Terrible Twins, as the staff called them, they had thought they were used to mayhem. This week was already showing them that they had been sorely mistaken.

It was shaping up to be an exciting year, in many different ways, Dumbledore mused. And painful, he thought, deliberately not rubbing the sore spot on his arse where Minerva had hexed him earlier in the day. She was quite good, he had discovered, at hexing him unexpectedly. And had an uncanny ability to hit the same spots repeatedly. He hadn’t expected her to be so vindictive for so long. Perhaps she would settle down after this meeting?

“Well,” he said, as Professor Sinistra settled into her chair, “It has been an exciting week, hasn’t it?” He glanced around the table at his staff, his eyes twinkling.

Snape’s glare back at him, and the rest of the professors, was nothing short of incendiary. 

The other Professors had great difficulty keeping straight faces. Considering the Potion Professor’s reputation for a temper, none wanted to test it when it was already stretched to the breaking point.

“Some of you already know this, but for those that don’t: We have sixteen pure-bloods starting this year, eight of the twenty boys are heirs and eight of the twenty-four girls are heiresses. There are three foreign pure-bloods, as well, Miss Sweetie Belle, Miss Scoot Aloo, and Miss Apple Bloom, although only Miss Aloo appears to be an heiress,” he summarized.

“The foreigners are reluctant to name their home country, preferring to say that they are from a small town called Ponyville, instead. But rumours suggest that their home might be Atlantis.” That caused a stir in the room as the professors murmured and exchanged speculative or surprised looks, although Minerva was still glaring at him, to Quirinus’ and Severus’ temporary amusement. He could tell Severus was amused because her scowl lessened ever so little whenever she saw McGonagall’s expression while looking at Dumbledore. 

“If true, that would explain their reluctance. If it came out that they were from Atlantis, I can’t imagine the attention they would get. And the Ministry would feel obligated to become involved, I’m sure.” He shook his head.

“It is ruled by two or three Princesses, I’m not sure of the exact number. The three girls’ attendance at Hogwarts is being sponsored by these princesses.” He paused, stroked his beard, and then said, “Miss Belle is capable of wandless magic, and has apparently taught Mister Potter that skill as well. Both are capable of apparition, as is Miss Granger, another of the Gryffindor First Years.”

The professors gasped as one.

“Surely you are jesting, Headmaster,” Professor Snape scoffed. “No child that young and new to a wand could master that skill!”

“No.” he replied. “No jest.” He shook his head slowly, his eyes twinkling. “In point of fact, Miss Twilight Sparkle, one of the adult . . . Atlanteans . . . Minerva and I have met, the one who seems to be their leader here in Britain, had Mr. Potter demonstrate his ability. He did so without using a wand — he had not yet picked up his wand from Ollivanders. Then, as I watched, she created a brand new version of the apparition spell that removes all its distasteful side-effects. And made it safer.”

“Mr. Potter apparated without a wand?” gasped Professor McGonagall, surprise replacing her glare.

“You say she created a new version?” Professor Flitwick asked incredulously.

The other professors simply stared in various stages of disbelief.

The old wizard nodded. “I saw her do so. She said she was adapting their teleportation spell to work with a wand. She then proceeded to teach Miss Granger how to successfully use the spell in less than half-an-hour. With a borrowed wand.”

The room was silent.

“The Ministry is currently evaluating her new version before releasing it to the public.”

“In addition, the Gryffindor First Year cohort has seven students who are animagi — three are the foreigners. I saw them teach Ginny Weasley how to become her pegasus animagus, which took less than a morning.”

He could see both Minerva and Filius re-evaluating their opinions of the magical potential of those particular students.

“Mr. Weasley tells me that by the next day they had taught all the Weasley children, to become animagi, as well as the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team.” He looked over at Professor McGonagall and smiled at her stunned expression. “Yes, Minerva, half of your Quidditch team, Mr Wood, and Misses Johnson and Spinnet, are pegasi animagi. Who knows what effect that will have on their playing abilities? We all know that some of an animagi’s animal senses and reactions bleed over to their human side.” His smile broadened as her eyes widened in understanding.

Albus looked at Severus, who was scowling furiously. Whether that was at hearing the disadvantage her team would face or the fact that Gryffindor had thirteen children who were animagi, while her House had none, was impossible to tell. 

“At thirteen animagi,” Dumbledore said, “they almost triple the number of registered animagi in Britain in the last century. And the seven First Years make the most registered in any one year, with the four Third Year students the second most.

“It is odd, though, that all of them are variations on ponies,” he said thoughtfully. “I have never heard of such a close grouping of animagi animals, usually they are quite random.” He shook his head mildly. He looked over at his transfiguration’s professor, but she was still lost in considering how the Gryffindor Quidditch team might benefit from being pegasi animagi.

For a moment, he considered telling them that Molly had also mastered that skill. But that had nothing to do with the school, so he would leave that off the table. Still, including Molly meant the Weasley family, by itself, almost doubled the number of animagi in England from seven to thirteen.

“And all of that was before they arrived at our wonderful school,” he added.

He glanced around at the listening professors.

“Why didn’t you tell us all this before session started?” asked Minerva, coming back to the conversation and clearly upset at having such important accomplishments kept secret until now. Well, at least she wasn’t glaring at him anymore.

“I didn’t want to prejudice your opinions of them before you had a chance to see them in a classroom environment,” he explained. “I wanted you to judge them solely on their classwork, and what you saw of them in your classes. I feared you might otherwise have unreasonable expectations on their abilities or treat them as more than just new First Year students, or foreigners who are First Year students. Warning you beforehand would have inflated your expectations of their schoolwork, leading you to unfairly judge their skills more harshly than you would have normally.”

He noticed that Quirinus was nodding his head and paying close attention.

“To recap the week, Monday morning,” the Headmaster went on, “Miss Scootaloo — apparently completely by accident — managed to assist Professor Binns to his next great adventure by informing him that he was deceased, and had been for some time.” He chuckled as did most of the staff. He cleared his throat. “I am still looking for a prospective replacement. Any suggestions you might have for a suitable candidate would be appreciated.” He looked around hopefully, then sighed at the multitude of heads shaking, ‘no.’ Severus merely glared at him.

“Monday afternoon they threw the entire school into a tizzy as Misters Potter and Ron Weasley, and Misses Aloo, Bloom, Belle, Granger, and Ginny Weasley displayed their animagus forms.”

“Tuesday, Mr. Potter managed to disrupt most of the school with a display of a charm he called the ‘Book Manifestation Spell’ that lets one enter a book for learning. It is a simple, yet powerful tool for learning, as I found in my own explorations with it. I’m sure it will revolutionize teaching. Filius,” he nodded at the diminutive wizard, “can answer any questions you might have about it. He is quite impressed with how it has improved the study habits of the Gryffindors, and their attention in class. He is reserving judgement on if it will improve their assignments.”

“Thursday, Mr. Ron Weasley and Miss Bloom apparently were ambushed by the Walking Plants in Greenhouse Number One. As a result, Pomona,” he nodded in her direction as she smiled, “has the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff First Years carrying the plants through the school and casting diagnostic spells on the plants after every class.” He smiled back at her, eyes twinkling, “She has promised to tell us the results of her impromptu study at our next meeting. I am quite looking forward to it.

“And then today, Miss Sweetie Belle apparently reversed the gender of everyone in her Gryffindor/Slytherin Potions class. Severus, could you tell us about that?”

With much grumbling and asides as to the uselessness of the Gryffindor dunderheads in general, she explained what had happened. The mirthful looks on her fellow professors’ faces when they heard her speak did not make the telling of the tale any pleasanter for her. After finishing, she crossed her arms under her chest and glowered menacingly at everyone, daring them to say anything.

It was surprisingly effective, despite her new gender and shape.

“And Poppy? Any insights?”

Madam Pomfrey, the school Healer, sighed. “I don’t know how the potion did what it did, but it switched their genders. I’ve studied the sample provided by Severus, as has he, and we have reached no conclusions on how long this condition will last or if it is permanent. For the moment, I suggest we merely wait it out and hope it wears off in a reasonable amount of time.

“In the meantime, the students are not unduly upset at the situation and I believe it might be a good learning experience once the potion wears off.”

“An excellent thought.” The Headmaster nodded sagely. “Is there anything else of note about this year’s incoming students?”

Professor McGonagall spoke up. “The Gryffindor First Years seem remarkably unified this year. They are rarely separated, forming a large study group in the common room.” She sighed, “And they have discovered that working together makes the research for assignments much easier. They readily share what each learns, coaching any who seem to not understand. Their assignments are much more detailed than most First Years, and also more uniform — there are only so many ways you can describe the skills used to turn a match into a needle. Fortunately, I haven’t yet seen anyone trying to copy another’s work.”

She frowned. “Percy Weasley tells me they even stick together when exploring the grounds outside. He has also told me that the three foreign girls have shown an interest in the Forbidden Forest. They seemed to regard the dangers in it as ‘not very impressive’ after he had warned them. They told him that they had run into cockatrices, timber-wolves, hydras, and chimeras in the woods by their home town! Miss Aloo was even heard to say something about ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders Giant Spider Wranglers’ to her friends.”

The professors were astonished at such claims.

“Nonsense!” burst out the Potions’ Professor. “Fantasies! There is no way that those dunderheads could have seen any of those creatures and survived! Very few adult wizards could have managed that.” She scowled heavily.

Ignoring Professor Snape, Minerva continued. “Miss Belle said that Miss Sparkle had run into a cockatrice and been turned to stone, only to be rescued by another witch, Miss Flutter Shy, who used a power Miss Belle called ‘The Stare’ to get the cockatrice to release her. Not a spell or potion, notice. Miss Belle was quite clear that this was an ability that only Miss Shy seems to have.” There were more than a few raised eyebrows at that. “She claimed the animals were Miss Shy’s special talent.”

“Bah! A figment of her imagination!” Severus once more interjected, still scowling. Being of the opposite sex had done nothing to curb her scepticism, or her sharp tongue.

Minerva just stared at her. “Nonetheless, she provided enough details on her various adventures to convince Percy Weasley she was telling the truth, as difficult as it may seem,” she said flatly. “He asked her about tatzlwurms and ursa majors and minors that they had also mentioned encountering, creatures he didn’t know. Apparently, a tatzlwurm and an ursa minor have attacked their town over the past year and been driven off or taken away by Miss Sparkle. The tatzlwurm is a class four-X creature whose home is in the Alps, you may or may not know. Miss Belle described the ursa minor as a baby stellar bear, a bear whose hide looks like the night sky. The ursa minor was as big as a house, it would seem.”

“Ha! Fictions they created to impress their gullible classmates, I’d say,” Professor Snape said as she again disparaged the stories.

Dumbledore stared at the scowling professor. “Severus, you would have said the same about the seven Gryffindor First Year’s animagus ability — which most of us here have seen them do on the grounds — and the abilities of Mr. Potter, Miss Belle, and Miss Granger to apparate, which I have witnessed myself. Please keep an open mind.”

Scowling even more darkly, the professor nodded and looked away.

The Headmaster looked back at the rest of the professors. “We can easily verify the stories by sending an owl to Miss Sparkle,” the Headmaster suggested. “We should have an answer soon enough as to how vivid an imagination these children have.” He would send the owl tonight.

Dumbledore studied his staff. His professor of Transfigurations had an expression that he knew usually meant she had something to bring up about her students that she found discomfiting.

Minerva cleared her throat and looked somewhat embarrassed. “Percy also told me that the girls wanted to know the name of the cerberus on the third floor.” She sighed. “And if he liked tummy rubs.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.


۸- ̰ -۸