Nova and Maggie received their letters a couple of weeks after Nova’s wand had been delivered. Nova checked off the items she already had, and the two were off to the Leaky Cauldron the next day accompanied by Clara Weasley. Nova had also brought along an oddly shaped backpack that looked more like it had been designed for a pony than a human. She had to reassure them that it was only slightly larger on the inside than the outside. Maggie was wearing a girl's light blue wizard robe with lots of lace, and Nova had on a robe that closely matched the Canterlot Academy robes of cyan blue with gold trim, with the equestrian coat of arms on it. It was something Celestia had thought to provide her with. Under that, she’d put on a simple gray skirt, and a white blouse. Clara had on an emerald green wizard robe.
“Who’s Ensign Nightfoal anyway?” Maggie asked as the two waited in the floo parlor. “Your pack has Ensign Nightfoal embroidered on it.”
“Just someone in my past.” Nova offered.
“Now, cast the floo powder into the fire, walk-in, and say, Diagon Alley, you first Maggie.” Clara directed.
“If we are going to the Leaky Cauldron, why not just say Leaky Cauldron?” Maggie asked.
“Just do as you’re told.” Clara scolded.
“Yes, Mother.” Maggie cast her powder into the fire, walked in, said Diagon Alley, and vanished.
“You next dear.”
“Yes, Mrs Weasley.” Nova replied, walked into the fire, and said, “Diagonal silly!” And vanished.
Clara’s eyes grew as wide as an MLP the movie pony, turned pale, grabbed a handful of powder, and quickly cast it into the fire.
Meanwhile, in the Leaky Cauldron, Maggie had already stepped out, and stood aside for the next person, to be momentarily followed by Nova who popped out going fast enough to land a good five feet away, landing with both feet together, with arms stretched out.
“Nailed the landing, how many points do I get,” Nova asked. She was followed a moment later by a frantic Clara.
“Nova?! What the hell?!” Clara began checking Nova for burns and then took hold of her shoulders. “You just walked right into the fire. You didn’t say the right place name. You – didn’t – even – use – any – powder!”
“I was told not to waste any,” Nova replied as though what she'd just done was nothing out of the ordinary.
Somewhere in the pub, a hand began to thump down on a table.
“That’s her, isn’t it?” someone whispered, and then Phenik flew out of the fire. “It’s her.”
Laughter began to spread through the pub.
“It’s not funny!” Clara insisted.
“Calm down, Mrs Weasly. That their little princess you’ve got there figured out how to activate the floo without using floo powder.” The innkeeper offered.
“She what!?” Clara exclaimed.
“And Miss, you really shouldn’t do that. It worries us adults something awful.” The innkeeper said to Nova. “We were mighty worried the last time you went through, and the whole system shut down.”
“I’m sorry.” Nova offered. “Apparently it was my apartment that was the cause, what with me racing back and forth. I guess it just overloaded the floo.”
“Don’t you ever do that again young lady!” Clara scolded. She was forced to back off when Maggie popped up between the two glaring at her mother.
“It’s alright Maggie.” Nova offered while giving her a hug from behind. “I was being antagonistic. - I’m sorry Mrs Weasley, I’ll be much better behaved from now on.”
“You’d better be.” Clara chastised.
Once Clara had managed to calm herself down, the three went back to the Witch's Wardrobe where Nova had gotten her school robes. Nova had been quite delighted, they were definitely up to Rarity's standards, and the prices had been reasonable. She’d also failed to get the required conical hat. Nova thought the hats to be rather funny and old-fashioned, especially being the only time she ever saw such hats was when being worn by Twilight on Nightmare Night, and Starswirl who was an old duffer. Still though, if required… She was also going to have to get better fitting underpants as Maggie’s old ones kept riding up with wear. Why humans were so insistent on such garments made no sense to her. Not to mention that strange constricting halter contraption they made her wear around her torso and shoulders. It didn’t even hardly do anything.
After Maggie had finished putting in her order, they were off to the book store for Maggie’s first-year books. Nova dove into the store once more. When she’d emerged she had several books on Animageus, both the how-to, and theory behind the spell.
From there it was off to the supply shop. Nova balked at the idea of dragonhide gloves. She wanted nothing to do with the things and insisted on having gloves that had not been made from a sentient creature. The people in the shop just gave her odd looks. Dragon’s, sentient? They accused her of being a naive little girl behind her back. Naturally, her keen hearing picked up every word of it, which didn’t make her feel any better. Maggie to her credit gave Nova a supporting hug and insisted on having the same sort of gloves Nova had.
There were a couple of other things Nova had missed on the first go-round, such as vials, and a telescope. Nova decided she’d get the best telescope they had and bought the crystal vials as they’d hold up better. Maggie had wanted a gold cauldron for herself when another first year had bullied their mother into buying one, but then Nova cautioned that her potions might not work right. Some potions could easily be dependent on the type of metal being used to make the cauldron, and if the school was telling students to purchase pewter, that meant the potions were calibrated for pewter.
They were nearly done, just one place left, and that was the apothecary. At first, Nova still couldn't bring herself to go in. Maggie put her arms around her. “I’m guessing they don’t have shops like this where you’re from?”
“If any existed, it’d be in a back alley behind a closed door, and the proprietor would be arrested if they were found out,” Nova whispered. She suppressed a shudder, and with Maggie’s support, Nova found the fortitude to go in. Fortunately, the supplies required for first-year students had already been bundled up, and all she had to do was pay for it and put it in her pack along with everything else she and Maggie had purchased that day.
They’d finished up earlier than anticipated. Now at first, they’d intended to go right back home, but as the soda bar was doing a brisk business, it was decided to go on in. Nova was delighted by a treat made from clotted cream mixed with shaved ice and fresh berries and had dished out a little for Phenik, while Maggie had some of the same. Clara had coffee with cream.
“Balmy on the crumpet, would ja look at that. A phoenix.” Said a boy at another table. It was a group of three, and they like many of the others at the small cafe had been so engrossed in their treats, they’d not noticed the bird.
“Aw, come on Newt, what would a phoenix be doing here?” One of the other boys offered. “I swear, you and your exotic beastie obsession.”
“No, look. There really is a phoenix.” offered the third boy. “That girl is giving it some of her iced-cream.”
“Gorblimey, yer right.”
Nova’s ears were in danger of ponifying being she could hear every word.
“Excuse me.” said the boy who’d been called Newt as he approached.
“Something we can do for you Mr Scamander?” Clara asked.
“Is that a real phoenix?” Newt asked. “Is he yours?”
“Mr Scamander was it?” Nova asked.
“Aye, that is yes, I’m a third year in Hogwarts. - Oh and those are my mates Fergus Potter, and Cygnus Black. They're fourth years though.”
“Go away Newt,” Maggie said giving him a sideways glance.
“Aww, you can’t mean that I thought we were pals. And me never having seen an actual phoenix, let alone up close.”
“The young lady is...” Clara began, but Nova cut in.
“Nova Moon.” Nova had feared Clara might slip and announce a title. Titles could be such a drag in a setting such as the one she was in. One moment she’d be enjoying herself, and the next ponies would be falling all over themselves to please and or ingratiate themselves into her good favor. The vast majority of whom she really couldn't do a thing for even if she’d wanted to. “This is Phenik.”
“Fennec?” He asked. “Like the fox?”
“Ah, no. Phenik.” Nova replied fearing a repeat of the last time. “She’s bounded to me. So in the sense of ownership, no I don’t own her. It’s not possible to own a phoenix, they have to choose to stay with someone. They can teleport, so it’s impossible to keep one captive against its will.”
“Teleport, you mean like apparate?” Newt asked as he grabbed a chair from another table, pulled it over, and sat down in it back to front.
“I guess. I’m not really familiar with the term. - I’ll be starting first-year.”
“Aren't you a little old for first-year?” Newt asked. Nova looked at him perplexed. He was the first human she’d met who’d realized she wasn’t an eleven year old. Assuming Equestrian and English years even matched.
“Well, either way, it’ll be my first year.” Nova offered. “What’s that you have in your pocket?” There was a small twiggy like creature that looked a great deal like a plant.”
“Oh, that’s a Bowtruckle.”
Nova’s sharp ears picked up the voice of the creature correcting Newt. “I am Groot.”
“So how do you know Phenik is a she, and not a male?” Newt asked.
“It’s just the way Phoenixes are built. The term male and female doesn’t really fit. They can all lay eggs and don’t require a mate to do so. They use parthenogenesis, subsequently, it doesn’t matter who their partner is. And will always lay one last egg at the end of their life, their magic goes haywire, and they burst into flame. The new bird that emerges will often have the same memories as the old, but it is open to a new partner.”
“How do you know so much?”
“My aunt has one. Phenik is from a recent clutch.” Nova offered. She looked over at the other two boys. “You can have a closer look provided you don’t crowd her. If you’d like?” The other two lads came over and pulled up a couple of chairs.
“She is right pretty.” Potter offered.
“The bird or the girl?” Black teased.
“Lay off will ya, I was talking about the bird.” Potter protested as a slight blush came to his face. Nova smiled, Potter wasn’t the most remarkable human boy, but he did have nice eyes. Or so Nova thought.
“Miss Nova, are you done with your iced-cream?” Clara asked. “I think we’re just about ready to start for home.”
“Oh yes, just about. It’s very good.” Nova replied.
“Must you go so soon?” Newt asked.
“I wanted to get some flying in.” Nova offered. “Which reminds me, Mrs Weasley, we really should stop off and get a new broom to replace the one I destroyed.”
“You broke a broom?” Clara asked having been unaware of the incident.
“She pushed it too hard, and it sort of disintegrated.” Maggie offered as she finished up her iced-cream.
“You any good at quidditch?” Potter asked. “We’d love to come by.”
“That would be up to Mrs Weasley,” Nova replied looking at Clara.
A short time later Nova was out on the lawns of the Abbey with a new broom and a new outfit. She had on a sailor top in dark blue, with dark blue puffy pants that tied up just below the knee, black stalkings, and a pair of lace-up shoes. All of which she’d purchased at the Quidditch shop. With her skirts, she’d been forced to ride side-saddle, but now with the poofy pants…
“I need to go back to the shop, my new broom went to pieces.”
After shredding her third broom Nova decided to get a bunch of books on broom construction and build her own. The shop, on the other hand, was convinced there was nothing wrong with their brooms. That is until the three boys started coming in with damaged brooms. The boys, having seen the maneuvers Nova was doing, were making a concerted effort to reproduce those same moves. By the end of summer, Nova had finished her new broom, and Cygnus had become a very proficient flier.
“Blimey, that’s a right pretty broom you’ve made,” Cygnus said in a hushed tone on seeing the new broom. Fergus Potter announced her to be quite the broomsquire. His voice echoed softly through the rotunda of Nova’s apartment. Instead of using a straight shaft of hickory or oak as was common, Nova had reasoned that a custom broom made especially for her might work best if she used the same wood as her wand. The smooth white wood shimmered as though it was emitting its own light.
“But it’s not even straight?” Maggie asked. It was something that had puzzled her for a while.
“Makes it easier to grip while riding.” Potter offered as an explanation as Nova passed out copies of her notes on how she’d gone about making it. The branch itself had come from a blackthorn tree on the property. The straw was barley, fresh from the field, and soaked in a solution of spring water and twenty-year-old scotch to keep it from drying out prematurely or molding, had been intricately woven together where the straw was strapped to the end of the broom handle, and the cording holding the straw on the shaft had been Nova’s own hair.
“Where’d you get pegasus hair, and a feather?” Newt asked astounded.
“Hair and a feather?! From a pegasus?” Potter asked picking up the notes. “How, Where? Holly, you could cast magic with this thing!”
“Wait, I thought you used your own hair?” Maggie asked in honest confusion. The boys looked back and forth at both girls, and then Newt’s eyes locked on a portrait of a white pony with black ears, legs, a mane that matched Nova’s, a crown, and Nova’s locket. His jaw hit the floor, melted, and sank into the cracks of the tile.
“Why exactly does that pony on the wall looks exactly like your Celestial fox form?” Cygnus asked as Newt started motioning for the others to look at it.
“Because that’s her,” Newt said softly. “She’s a pegacorn.”
“You’ve got two Animageus forms?” Cygnus asked confused. “Would that even work? I mean if you used your own feather and hair...”
“Nova... guys, I think it might be best not to tell anyone about this,” Fergus said softly. Nova had a stricken look on her face.
“Hang on, does that mean you’re not blood cursed?” Maggie asked.
“She’s not even human.” Newt offered. “I’m guessing her human form is the second form. That’d explain why it’s not complete.”
“I won’t tell. Promise.” Cygnus offered.
“I guess that explains why the instructions say the pegasus is not to be harmed or even frightened in any way.” Fergus offered. “I won’t tell. Promise.”
“Wait, you’re a pony?” Maggie asked as incitement began to bubble up. “Show me.”
“Will you all promise to never give up my secret, that you will never betray me.”
“I don’t understand why?” Maggie asked.
“Maggie, remember the apothecary?” Nova asked.
“Oh...” Newt said looking back at Nova. “Maggie, I’d say she has plenty of reason to be afraid. Horns don't shed. Antlers shed.”
“Will you all swear by the most sacred oath of my people?” Nova asked. They nodded that they would. “Very well, state your name...” They all said their names. “No, you’re supposed to say the words ‘state your name’. They smiled and said it. “That I do solemnly swear this Pinkie promise that I will never in any way surrender Miss Nova Moon’s secret, or betray her trust in any way, cross my heart, and hope to fly...”
“What?” Fergus asked.
“Just say it, it’s a Pinkie promise. - Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”
They all said it and laughed because it was the silliest sacred oath they’d ever heard.
“Umm, what happens if I break the oath, and sort of accidentally tell someone?” Maggie asked. She sounded a bit like she really wanted to tell some of her friends, but then the room grew dark. The room became bitterly cold, and a disembodied voice resonated throughout the rotunda.
“Nobody breaks a Pinkie promise.”
Nova was perhaps more shook up than the others.
“There is a practical reason for not harming the pegasus.” Nova offered once they’d regained their composure and the rotunda was back to normal. “Fright will trigger the fight or flight response and be transferred to all parts leaving a magical charge that could make the broom useless. - Otherwise, my method here is simple enough you’d be able to make brooms unlike any presently on the market.”
“Can we see what you look like as a pony?” Newt asked.
Nova looked at their expectant faces. “Oh, alright.”
Abby and the three boys looked on in surprised delight at the sight of a small pony now sitting in their midst. She’d also finally figured out a way to solve her clothing issue.
“Those have got to be the most amazing wings I’ve ever seen.” Cygnus offered. “Next to my own, that is.” Maggie was presently doing an impersonation of squeaky brakes.
“Thanks – come again?” Nova said.
“I’ve got a confession too.” Cygnus offered. “I can turn into a black swan.”
🕊
Meanwhile downstairs Sir Arthur Weasley is entertaining a guest in the smoking room. The man in question was dressed in a cyan-blue wizard robe trimmed in white. On his head a mess of long curly blond hair and a beard to match. “Arthur, this damnable train is costing me my good name, I sure hope it’s worth it,” he said with an air of exasperation to his tone. “What with the damned lies the opposition has been spreading about me.”
“Well, there’s no going back now.” Arthur cautioned.
“Aye, if not for the Princess of Eques investing in it, the whole project would have died a month ago. It makes it too easy for mud-bloods to attend Hogwarts. My own family's sentiments. Not mine. Cygnus and a few others in the family support the project, but the rest can all rot in hell for all I care. I just wish the ministry would listen to me, and get the children with magic born into muggle households away from their idiot relatives.”
“Phineas, I’m afraid that sentiment could apply to some wizard families as well. And it’s their own fault they’ve so many squibs showing up in the pureblood families. Anyone who knows anything about animal husbandry can tell you what happens when we don’t bring in new blood now and then.”
“Aye, you don’t have to tell me twice. And a good number of those mud-bloods are coming from squibs. And the squibs, some of them are the worst muggles I’ve ever encountered. They can’t do magic themselves, so they turn around, and, and become some of Wizarding kinds worst enemies. That is why I think there needs to be interventions. Many of these kids have been brought up thinking magic is a product of the devil, as opposed to the natural thing it is. Salazar Slytherin wanted them kept out of Hogwarts because they were the ones going bad, and the worst of the lot always seemed to end up in Slytherin's house for some unknown reason.” He slapped his hand down, and grumbled, “That or Ravenclaw.”
“Funny that. - But that’s not why you’re here though, is it? Phineus.” Arthur stated rather than asked.
“Well, you got me there.” He paused a moment to collect his thoughts. “I was curious about that Moon girl you’re keeping here.” His tone was now more cordial.
“Do tell.”
“Headmaster Scrimgeour is mighty pleased to have her attending this year.”
“And yet he’s never met the girl, and likely knows little about her. Not to mention that ‘Moon’ is a fairly common name. Why then would he be so keen on her of all the new students?”
“It’s the enrollment book.”
“What about the enrollment book?”
“Well as I’m sure you are aware when a child is nearing the age of eleven and has a satisfactory level of magic, their name appears in the book.”
“Yes, and if they are found wanting or end up going somewhere else, their name gets scratched out by the quill.”
“What most wizards don’t know is that there are five samples of handwriting in the book. Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and one other who had been an unnamed adviser to the founders. Names written in Salazar Slytherin’s handwriting almost always go to Slytherin's house. It’s about the same for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Rowena’s picks tend to be about eighty-percent going to Ravenclaw with the majority of the remaining twenty-percent going over to Slytherin.”
“I must confess, I never knew that.”
“Well, those of us who know, are seldom surprised by the sorting hat’s choices.”
“I think I may be out some money on a bet I made.”
“Only if you bet Scrimgeour or one of the other heads of house. - On the other hand, if you’ve bet on your little miss, you’ll likely win the bet. After all, you know your own granddaughter best.”
“And what of Miss Nova Moon?”
“We have got a four-way split on her.”
“Hang on, how’s that?”
“For the first time ever, and we’ve looked through the book at all the previous names, a name was entered by the fifth individual behind Hogwarts.”
“Are you telling me that Nova Moon’s name was entered by this fifth individual? - Any idea who this person was?”
“Oh yes we do, there are records and correspondences. Her name was left out of history because she’d requested it. She was a powerful enchantress of unsurpassed beauty by the name of Celestia Solaris of Eques.”
“You don’t say,” Arthur replied with a smile.
“So what’s she like?” Phineas asked. He'd meant Nova.
“Well I haven't actually had the pleasure of meeting Princess Celestia, but her niece is a genius. At least she appears that way when compared to our children. And I’m not being self-deprecating about the ability of our children. Apparently, she’s been doing magic since she was six, and she told us she was a slow starter. We might even be doing our own children a disservice by not teaching them how magic works at a younger age.” He had to stop to collect his thoughts before continuing. “She’s fastidious about her studies, and has brought Maggie’s understanding of magic up to a level where she’ll be at a considerable advantage over the other first years, and Maggie can already do several of the first year charms. As for Miss Nova, she’ll need to be evaluated once she gets to school as I suspect she’s leagues ahead of her peers. She’s even making her own broom because the ones being sold couldn’t hold up to her ability to fly.”
“You don’t say?” Phineas replied not sure what to make about the comment about Celestia, and presumably Nova, being her niece. “Does it work? - The broom?”
“Afraid I don’t know yet. It looks impressive enough.”
“I’m thinking we might set her up with an at your own pace curriculum in addition to her regular studies.” Phineas offered. “There’s a lot of ill feelings about outsiders right now, might not do for her peers to be out-shined too much.”
“I’ll be sure and caution her not to be too outstanding. However, she says she’s fourteen despite her diminutive frame. That may be due to the blood curse though.”
“Blood curse?”
“She’s an Animageus. It doesn’t seem to bother her, but she can’t quite become all the way human anymore.”
“Dare I ask what she’s turning into? - Is she safe?”
“She’s perfectly safe. Unless you’re a chicken.”
“Pardon?”
“She transforms into a small white fox with wings like an owl. She says it’s an animal native to the far east. She has a healthy appetite, but prefers not to eat steak, and is adamantly opposed to eating horse of any kind. Won’t eat it even for pudding.” Arthur Weasley let out a sigh. "I made the mistake of saying I was hungry enough to eat a horse, and she locked herself in her room until Maggie could coax her out."
“Must be one of those eastern religious things. - Anyway, if she does well enough I might be able to bump her up a year. - I’ll have to consult the headmaster on this.”
Meanwhile outside, Nova is back to her human form, and Fergus Potter is presently trying out Nova’s broom.
“Woooohooooooooooo!” Fergus shouted as he went flying by so fast he’d gone plaid.
🚂🚃🚃🚃🚃🚃🚃🚃🚃🚃🚃🚃🚃
September first
Getting to Kings Cross station had proven to be an adventure of its own. Being in part because no one wished to risk sending Nova’s suitcase through the floo again. A hansom cab had been procured the night before, Nova in her traveling clothes, and everyone else wearing outfits inspired by what many of the locals wore. Nova was grateful to Maggie for insisting they procure healthy animals that had been taken care of properly, but aside from that and herself, the rest of the party looked like sheep ranchers she’d picked up off the side of the lane. They loaded up first thing in the morning and headed down a cattle track out in the country there being no actual roads out to the Abbey. Nova couldn't help but wonder how they were to get to London in time for the train at the rate they were going. Turning down into a secluded glen wasn’t helping.
“Alright everyone out,” Henry said as the cab stopped. It was a very secluded location, and they really hadn’t been going all that long. To Nova’s surprise, he pulled Maggie’s trunk out.
Nova got out and pulled her suitcase out not quite sure what to think, and when everyone was unloaded, he thanked the driver who continued on without them.
“Am I missing something?” Nova asked.
“We’re right on scheduled, come on,” Henry said, and lead everyone into the center of the small clearing, and stood next to an old shipping crate with Maggie’s trunk. “Gather round, gather round.”
Nova, Maggie, and Clara went over to where he was standing.
“Grab on to each other, Miss Nova, don’t drop your bag, you might lose it. We are on time...” Henry said as though expecting something to happen. “Any moment now...”
Nova’s heart sank as the sensation of being sucked through a straw overtook her. Was this a teleport? Panic started to grip her as the fear that something had gone horribly wrong. Her instincts took over, she overrode whatever it was that was forcing them through space and time in such a chaotic way, locked in on the one point in London she knew she’d be able to hit…
“Where are we?” Henry asked as he looked about the alley where Nova had first entered this world.
“I thought we were all going to die,” Nova said softly as she tried to regain her composure.
“I hate port keys,” Maggie announced. “The last part wasn’t so bad.”
“We’re in the wrong place,” Henry announced.
“We’re in an alley a short walk from Diagon Alley,” Nova announced.
“Well just have to get a cab from here,” Clara announced. “Come on then.”
So they went out to the boulevard where all the traffic was and attempted to hail a cab. No one would stop.
“Excuse me miss, are you all right?” Asked a man in a blue suit with a tall helmet. Attached to his belt was a long black club, and he was wearing a badge.
“Oh yes, I’m fine. We’re just trying to hail a cab.” Nova offered on realizing the man was talking to her. She looked about and discovered there were quite a few of these oddly dressed men. “Umm, they lost a bet.” Nova offered. We’re trying to get to Kings Cross Station. - We kind of got off track.”
“Indeed you are.” The police officer replied. “Lost a bet was it.”
“His father’s in the Ministry.”
“Is he now.”
“My uncle actually.” Henry offered.
“Mr Weasley, I know he’s your father, no point in pretending otherwise,” Nova replied. She then looked at the police officer, and said, “Apparently having a wife on the side is frowned upon. - Any chance you could help us get to the station?”
“Tell you what, there’s a call box down the way.” The officer offered and directed them down the street.
“What’s going on?” Clara asked Nova in a whisper.
“You’re dressed like sheepherders, and I’m a young lady of means.” Nova offered loud enough for everyone to hear.
“So what’s wrong with the way we’re dressed?” Henry asked.
“We’re in London City,” Nova announced as though they didn’t already know. “And you are dressed for herding sheep. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just that people in cities dress differently. You’re as out of place as if you’d shown up in your housecoat and slippers. - You needed to dress more like a businessman.”
“I see, I see. I never realized there was a difference.”
“Oh for the life of the idle rich.” The officer muttered as they approached a large blue box with a light on top marked police call box.
“If only it had been bigger on the inside, my life would be so much simpler,” Nova muttered as she looked into the box.
“Pardon?” the officer asked as he picked up the phone.
“I was just commenting on how small it is in there.”
A short time later, they were on their way to Kings Cross station in the back of a police wagon.
🛤🏗
“Weasley, I thought we’d lost you.” Thomas Malfoy said on approaching the wagon as everyone unloaded. He’d been sensible enough to wear a suit. “Whatever are you wearing?” The officers driving the wagon shook their heads and drove away. “Come on, we seem to have a bit of a problem.”
“A problem?” Henry asked.
“They did such a good job hiding the platform, no one can find it,” Malfoy announced.
“Do you remember which one they used?” Henry asked as he placed Maggie’s trunk on a cart.
“Well, that’s the problem. They gave us a number of nine and three quarters, but the secrecy protocol has been so tight, not even wizards seem to be able to find it.” Malfoy informed him.
“Come on then.” Henry offered, and a moment later the small party pushed through the doors into the station. On entering they were presented with a number of open platforms under a long arched roof with light flooding in through a multitude of windows in the ceiling. Nova made sure to stay with the group as they walked. After they’d walked past platform nine, Nova noticed an odd thing, people would stop talking walk a short distance passing a barrier of stone between platforms, and then continue talking as though they’d never stopped. There was at least one girl who looked as though she was right on the verge of figuring it out. She’d stopped in right about the right place and was presently staring at the barrier as though willing herself to see through the illusion.
Of course, it was an illusion. Nova went over to her, closed her eyes, and allowed the rest of her senses to do the work. Her ears told her where the trains were, her nose told her where the trains were, and then there was the geomagnetic navigation common to pegasi and foxes. Nova’s geomagnetic sense was also what gave her the ability to see the aura of things, and it was fine-tuned to the point that she could find a target completely blind.
“I am Beatrice Lulamoon the great and powerful. I will not be denied an education in magic!” The girl next to her shouted, and then quite possibly out of sheer frustration, closed her eyes, and pushed her cart straight at the barrier.
Nova kept her eyes closed letting her other senses tell her what was happening. Her mind's image saw the girl push her cart, and then for the briefest moment, it was as though the cart had hit a veil of some kind. The veil ripped open, and her mind could see the whole platform while Beatrice pushed through.
Nova opened her eyes, signaled to the others, closed her eyes again, and ran right at the barrier. Again there was a moment’s hesitation as though pushing against something, her right shoulder slammed into it, and she was through. She opened her eyes just a few paces away from Beatrice. Inside was a bright red locomotive with sleek passenger cars to match, and by the looks of things they had indeed been the first to gain entry to the platform. On the sides of the cars was printed Great Western Railway. “Come on, we’d better get out of the way. There’s going to be a flood of people, just as soon as they figure it out.” She offered while giving her shoulder a rub. Next time she’d have to remember to use a cart to breakthrough.
“Ha, I’m the first one to figure it out! - I beat the challenge those purebloods couldn't figure out. I am truly great and powerful, and someday I’ll be the strongest witch known to wizardkind!”
“Come on Trixie, we need to get out of the way.”
“Trixie? My Names Beatrice.”
“I’m going to get to the train before you.”
“Not if I can help it.” Beatrice protested as she pushed her cart out of the way as others began to flow in.
“Nova, we made it!” Maggie called as she pushed her cart up alongside the two.
“Why are you dressed like a shepherd girl?” Beatrice asked.
“My father thought we’d blend in better while on the road.” Maggie offered as her trunk was loaded onto the train. Beatrice rolled her eyes heavenward and slapped her hand to her face.
“Excuse me miss, is this bag all you’ve got?” a porter asked Nova.
“Yes, sir,” Nova replied.
“We’ll need a red card on that bag.” Mr Malfoy instructed. He then got out his wand and projected his voice across the platform. “If anyone has a bag or trunk that is larger on the inside, let the porters know. It needs a red card so that it doesn’t get placed inside a smaller displaced space at the other end. Thank you.” His announcement had created an additional buzz and flurry of activity as Nova’s wasn’t the only bag in need of a red tag. There as likely wasn’t a one anywhere near as large on the inside as Nova’s, but then again, as many of the bags were going to be placed in carts with a displaced space inside to make it easier to move the luggage it was feared that dozens of handbags might collapse the whole thing resulting in a catastrophic implosion. Another likely outcome is that they’d create a small wormhole acting much the same way as a port key, depositing the hapless victims, harmony knows where.
“Did no one see you off?” Nova asked Beatrice.
“Beatrice’s parents are too important to take any time out of their day,” Beatrice responded, and then suddenly found herself getting hugged by Clara.
“In that case, I’ll just have to do it for them.” Clara offered. She then gave Nova a hug, followed by giving Maggie a hug. “Now off with you, on the train before it leaves without you.”
“Yes, mother.” Maggie and Nova say at the same time. They laugh, each gets in another hug, and then they board the train.
“Do you need another hug, Miss Beatrice?” Clara asked. Beatrice hesitated for a moment, hugged Mrs Weasley, and then climbed aboard the train.
“Miss Nova!” Newt called from a compartment. “We saved you some space.”
“How good of you to do so, Mr Scamander,” Nova called as she made her way down the passage through the train. Maggie followed, and a moment later Beatrice asked if Beatrice could join them.
“Come on in Beatrice.” Nova offered and sat down with her suitcase in her lap. “This is Mr Fergus Potter and Mr Newt Scamander. Of course, you’ve already met my alleged sister, the wee little shepherd girl Maggie. Gentlemen, may I introduce to you, the great and powerful Beatrice Lulamoon.” Beatrice bowed with a flourish and then attempted to hoist her trunk up into the luggage rack.
“Let me get that.” Potter offered, taking hold of the trunk, and jamming it into a space that looked to be far too small. A small sign stated that no red card items were to be stowed there. “Here, let me get that,” Potter said turning to Nova.
“No, that’s quite alright,” Nova replied. “It says no red tag items. Looks like it’ll be safe enough to put it under the seat though.”
“No red tag items, now why… Oh, I think I get it now.” Potter replied, and then sat down again. Trixie, or rather Beatrice sat down next to him so that it was Newt, Nova, and Maggie on one side with Potter and Beatrice on the other.
“Ehem!” Said a girl standing in the doorway. “Mr Potter.”
“Beatrice.” Nova hissed motioning with her eyes.
“Fergus Potter, I’ve been looking all over for you, and here I find you with a bunch of firsties. Girls even.”
“Daisy! It’s not like that. - She’s Newt’s girlfriend.” Potter protested.
“I don’t even know him.” Beatrice protested as she moved away from Potter.
“It’s not like that!” Newt protested.
“I think he means Maggie and myself.” Nova offered. “By the way, is Cygnus going to join us?”
“He might stop by later.” Newt offered as Daisy sat next to Fergus. “He’s in Slytherin, so he usually hangs out with the Slytherins.
“Oh, you didn’t tell me you were in a different house?” Nova asked.
“We generally don’t tell people he’s a Slytherin. They’ve kind of got a bad rep. Though for the most part, the rivalry between houses is more for fun.” Potter explained. “Most of us just pretend to hate each other.”
“I see,” Nova replied. “He seemed a trustworthy person though.”
“Oh, he is.” Newt offered. “The Blacks and the Potters go way back even if they don’t always see eye to eye. Cygnus and Fergus are in fourth-year. They were lab partners in potions last year.” His tone switching to one of caution, “His sister Belvina is a Prefect. You’ll want to keep well clear of her.”
“Oh, open the window,” Maggie said as the train started to move forward. Outside families were waving their last goodbye until Christmas. “Goodbye mom, bye father!” Maggie shouted out the window. They shouted back, remember to write, see you in Christmas. Mr Malfoy shouted good luck to Beatrice.
“What’s Christmas?” Nova asked as she waved.
“You don’t know what Christmas is?” Daisy asked. “Why it’s the most wonderful time of the year.”
“Not hardly.” Beatrice countered.
“You don’t like Christmas?” Daisy asked confused.
“Beatrice’s family are all Roman Catholic. For them, Christmas is a time of reflecting, and sitting in church for one mass after another. - When they found out Beatrice could do magic they tried to get rid of it by having a priest do an exorcism on Beatrice, and when that didn’t do it, they tried to beat it out of … out of me.” There was stunned silence. “Beatrice ran away, and was found by Mr Thomas Malfoy.”
“You are among friends now.” Nova offered. The idea that someone would beat someone for having magic was as foreign as this Christmas thing. More so considering ponies did have their winter holidays. But to beat someone for having magic?
“Wow,” Newt said softly.
“Anyway, to be honest Wizards don’t really celebrate Christmas, we just got into the habit of calling it that for some reason. It’s the end of the year celebration coinciding with the Jul festival and New Year's which originally marked the longest night of the year.”
“Oh… right. We have New Year's right about the same time, only our holiday is called Hearths Warming.” Nova offered. “We’re past the station, do you think it’s safe enough to let Phenik out?”
“I don’t see why not?” Newt offered.
Nova looked out the window as the train rolled on past some of the seedier parts of London, and then turned her attention to her suitcase. Nova opened the suitcase.
“What is that?” Beatrice asked as Phenik climbed out.
“You have a phoenix?” Daisy asked as Nova pulled out a book with a crescent moon, and two stars on the cover.
🌌
Dear Aunty Tia, Princess Celestia read in an identical book. I am on my way to Hogwarts today. There is something I should tell you first that I hadn’t said anything about earlier. When I first arrived, the students by rail project was floundering due to a lack of backers. Afraid I used a sizable amount of your money to see to it that the project could be completed. The train is now full to capacity with students on their way to Hogwarts. I’d say that’s a good return on our investment whether we ever make any money on our shares or not.
“I see you’ve picked up that book again.” One of Celestia’s court mares says.
“One of my students on a special assignment.” Celestia offered.
“Princess, are you alright?”
The teacup Princess Celestia had been holding in her magic had pulverized.
“A new friend I’m told has had a difficult time. A pity the filly’s parents are so far out of reach.” She replied grinding her teeth. Fiery prominences flickered off her mane.