//------------------------------//
// 58 — Under-estimating 
// Story: If Wishes were Ponies . . . . 
// by tkepner 
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“GAH!” Harry said as the entire rest of the student body gasped and stared in stunned silence. Twilight had transformed into her human form. And, standing on the table, she was clearly visible to everyone in the Great Hall. That she was only a hands-width shorter than two meters, and almost half-a-head taller than even the Weasley twins, made it easy for everyone to see her.

Harry’s mind went blank for a moment as he watched Twilight look around at the surprised wizards and witches, startled at their loud gasp at seeing her transform. He was relieved that, for once, she hadn’t been too preoccupied with the immediate situation. Relieved that she had actually thought things out before she had transformed. Relieved that she had actually remembered all his lectures about wearing clothes whenever she wasn’t in her bedroom while on Earth.

Harry knew she usually removed all her clothes before she returned to Equestria through the portal, as they all normally did. From her reaction when she arrived, he doubted Philomena had stopped by the portal to give her a chance to grab any clothes. Maybe he should suggest she keep a set of clothes in her saddlebags for the next time she was unexpectedly brought to Earth. With the Undetectable Expansion Charm it shouldn’t be a bother.

She was “wearing” the form-fitting dress she had worn when they first came through the portal. A dress Rarity had quickly replaced with something more befitting her status and planned activities in this world. Only Harry knew the clothes were an illusion. He hoped.

There were a few wolf-whistles and a general noise of approval from the older wizards at her rather striking well-endowed figure. The witches, meanwhile, gave exclamations of disapproval or envy. And hexed their boyfriends, either current or new, for staring. Sometimes more than once. Myrtle, Harry noticed, was staring at Twilight with a rather strange expression, he thought.

Harry sighed. He let go of her ankle and reached up for her hand. “Come on down from there,” he said quietly. He guided her over to his side of the table and helped her keep her balance as she stepped down. As soon as she was beside him, he whispered, “That’s not a solution, there are spells that let people see through illusions, like the ones on my glasses.” He looked around the Hall, again. None of the older wizards were acting as it they had learned that particular spell, yet.

He was grateful that he had never turned on that particular feature in his glasses. He had no desire to see the Headmaster or Malfoy’s goons unclothed. The thought alone was enough to make him shudder. He had tried that feature only once, in the privacy of his own room, to see if it really worked. It had. Clothes appeared as a slight outline of the person being viewed. He wondered if there was an easy counter-spell one could put on their clothes to block that spell?

He would mention it later to Twilight. If the spell didn’t exist, he knew she would be the one who could create one. And he would make sure the fillies, as well as Hermione and Ginny, had that counter-spell. And Angelina and Alicia, now that he thought of it. He was sure they would make sure all the other witches knew it.

The fillies were not helping the situation as they were clearly trying to stifle their laughter at the wizards, and their witch’s, reactions, and turning bright red in the effort.

Twilight sighed. “Ah,” she whispered back to him, “Well, it’ll do for now. Although it does seem so silly to be fixated on wearing clothes all the time.”

Harry sighed, “But it isn’t to these people.” He looked over at that the Gryffindor chasers. “Maybe we can borrow something from one of the girls,” he muttered softly. He had to get her out of the Hall before she accidentally did something revealing.

As the Headmaster cast a quick reparo on the damaged table, Harry began to direct Twilight down the table towards the Great Hall doors. She, in turn, was staring at the ceiling. “Oh, my!” she said. That’s quite a piece of spell work! I’ll have to tell Princess Celestia about it. I’m sure it would look fantastic in the throne room.” She stopped and stared intently, her lips moving slightly as she deciphered the magic she was studying.

Parvati, having heard Twilight’s deluge of questions was already headed over to Myrtle at the Ravenclaw table.

Harry just sighed, again, and, with the fillies help, steered her down the aisle. The Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress paced them on the other side of the table, at first, and then followed them bemusedly as Twilight kept her eyes on the charms in the ceiling. The other Heads of Houses started chasing the students back to their tables and restoring order.

Harry’s group had just reached the doors when the princess stopped, again.

“Oh!” Twilight said. “Where’s the filly . . . girl who used to be a ghost?” She looked around the hall.

“That would be Myrtle, here,” said Parvati as she dragged the witch behind her, catching up to them.

Hermione squeaked in surprise as the soft briefcase she had picked up off the table — the saddlebags had changed into a briefcase moments after Twilight took on her human form — suddenly flew open and a paper and quill flew out and started taking notes.

“Oh!” said Twilight as she studied the girl, frowning slightly as she scanned the Ravenclaw former-ghost from head to toe. “If you don’t mind answering,” the Equestrian princess said, “were you surprised when you became a ghost? Did you want to become a ghost? How did it happen? Did anyone see it happen? How long did it take you to realize you had died? How old were you when it happened? Are you the same age now as you were then?”

Twilight,” Harry tried to interrupt as the professors and students who had followed them — the entire Gryffindor First Year cohort plus a few of Myrtle’s new friends — listened in silence to the barrage of questions.

“Was it difficult to adapt? Were your emotions calmer or worse? When did you meet the other ghosts? Were they nice to you? Did you make any friends with the ghosts? Did you have trouble interacting with your former friends?”

“Twilight!” Harry repeated, looking around and giving their audience a hesitant smile. Myrtle had a look somewhat reminiscent of a deer caught at night in a speeding lorry’s lights.

“How did your friends react when they discovered you were a ghost? Do you know how you died? Did you walk or float everywhere? Could you freely roam or were you restricted in some manner? When you disappeared, did you just turn invisible or did you actual go somewhere else? What did you think when Harry offered to restore you to life?”

“TWILIGHT! FOCUS!” Harry hissed, yanking on her arm at the same time. Myrtle was starting to back away from the crazy witch in front of her.

Twilight turned to Harry, “What!?” She put her hands on her hips and scowled.

Harry just glared at her. She looked at the crowd around them. “Ah.” She said, dispiritedly. She dropped her hands to her sides and looked dismayed. “I did it again, didn’t I?” She sighed.

“Yes. Yes, you did. Now apologize.”

The students stared at Harry — he was reprimanding an adult? An adult who, it seemed, was a princess? The fillies just rolled their eyes.

Blushing, Twilight looked at Myrtle, “I’m sorry about that. I sometimes get a bit over-enthusiastic when I have a chance to learn something new.”

“Ya think?” Harry mumbled under his breath, making the fillies giggle.

Twilight just gave him a quick, dirty look, before turning her attention back to Myrtle. “And at home we have nothing on real ghosts,” she said.

“So, please, will you answer some of my questions? It would help me ever so much. I’m sure we could easily get a whole book published out of it. A new book.” She jogged happily in place for a moment, distracting the older watching wizards as her form-fitting illusion faithfully followed her bra-less movements. She looked at the girl hopefully. She gave the girl her rendition of the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ begging Cuteness of Doom look. It wasn’t nearly as effective as theirs, but the sheer novelty of seeing such a look directed at her from anyone, much less someone who towered over her, had the Ravenclaw nodding her in agreement. That, or it was merely her head following her eyes as she watched the princess’ chest bouncing. There was an awful lot of it.

Twilight squealed in delight, hopping in place for several seconds.

Harry saw that one of the wizards watching, a Fifth Year, he thought, had a nose-bleed. The wizard hadn’t yet noticed. The outraged expression on the witch standing nearby, and holding his hand, indicated that she had noticed her boyfriend’s problem. Harry knew that expression from his aunt when she had caught his uncle eyeing one of the women on the telly a bit too closely.

Dumbledore, who had been listening, spoke up, eyes twinkling. “Perhaps we can continue this in my office? We wouldn’t want to distract the students from their studies, now would we?”

“Oh,” Twilight said quickly, turning to face him. “I couldn’t do that! You have much more important things to do than listen to me ask questions, I’m sure. Just show us to a convenient room and we’ll be out of your way.”

The Headmaster smiled at her. “I’m sorry, but unless you are family to the student you are meeting, either myself or the student’s Head of House must be present. It’s for both yours and the student’s protection.”

Twilight looked over at Myrtle and tilted her head slightly, “So, your Head of House is?”

Before the witch could answer, though, Dumbledore said, “Professor Filius Flitwick is her Head of House.” He swept his arm courteously towards the short wizard.

“Professor Filius Flitwick,” Twilight said, facing him. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Harry has been most impressed with your classes. It will be a pleasure to speak with you. I am Twilight Sparkle.”

“Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Harry felt he had to emphasise.

“Yes, yes,” she rolled her eyes. “Princess Twilight Sparkle,” she repeated. After a hesitation, she added, “You wouldn’t mind answering a few questions for me about your magic, would you?”

The dapper little professor clicked his heels together and partially bowed. “Princess Sparkle, it would be my pleasure,” he said with a smile. 

Harry noticed that the professor didn't offer his hand, so he must have assumed that wherever she came from, they did not shake hands. Or, perhaps, he thought that as she was Royalty, shaking hands with her was  inappropriate.

She smiled back, a new scroll and quill floating out and starting to make notes. She said, “Please, call me Twilight, I prefer that.” She turned to the other Head of House. “Professor Minerva McGonagall, a pleasure to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you, Twilight,” was the quick response, with a polite head-nod.

“Shall we proceed?” said the Headmaster, gesturing towards the Great Hall doors.

Twilight gave one last look up at the Great Hall ceiling, and then started walking towards the doors. As they exited the Great Hall, Twilight said, “So, Harry, was it just you, or was it you and Sweetie Belle, who did the spell casting?”

“Pretty much both of us,” Harry said. “We were all there . . . that is, all the Gryffindor First Years were in the room, but Sweetie Belle and I did the main part of the magic while Hermione was our backup and made sure we didn’t forget anything or mess up. And Sweetie Belle and Hermione supplied the drops of blood at the proper time.”

“Oooo! This is soo exciting! It’s the first time anypony has had a chance to use that spell!” She stopped and spun happily.

Looking back, Harry saw one of the older students following them walk into the side of the Great Hall doorway. He couldn’t repress his smile at the silliness of it.

The witches all had their boyfriends firmly by the hand. It was only because Twilight was a princess and the subject matter was so interesting that they didn't drag their distracted boyfriends away for some remedial training in how to act around their girlfriend. Harry knew that hexing would be involved.

From the telly shows, Harry expected the conversations to be along the lines of:

“Why are you mad at me?”

Hex. “You know why!” Hex.

“What’d I do?”

Hex.“You know very well what you did!” Hex.

“Stop hexing me!”

Hex.

He was soo glad he didn’t have any girlfriends.

The professors stopped and stared at Twilight, as did the Gryffindor First Years. “First time?” repeated the Headmaster with raised eyebrows.

Harry noticed that the number of wizards with nose-bleeds had increased, for some bizarre reason. As had the number of furious witches.

“Well, yes,” said Twilight. “I mean the theory was sound and the mathematics worked out precisely — I checked them both, myself, seven times. Once as a filly when I first read the book, then three times while I was attending Celestia’s School for Gifted . . . Students . . . when I was bored . . . . Then twice while I was living in Ponyville because we are so close to the Everfree forest and I thought for sure I would eventually find a ghost. And then once more before I sent the book to Harry. But we’ve never had an actual ghost to try it out on — and I looked everywhere for one, I even searched the crystal caverns under the palace in Canterlot.” She turned to Myrtle, “That’s why your answers are so important. You’re the very first ghost to return to life, you’re going to be famous and in all the history books!”

She spun to face Harry. “Did you try out any of the other spells? Which ones? Did they work as well? . . . .”

Harry held up his hand, stopping her. “Yes. All except the ones that would hurt a ghost — like the banishment spell. And yes.”

She turned to the Headmaster. “I think we can keep the first interview to just Harry Potter, Sweetie Belle, and Miss Myrtle.”

“It’s Myrtle Warren, actually,” Hermione offered.

Twilight spun to face the no-longer-a-ghost girl, “I am soo pleased to meet you, Miss Myrtle Warren.” She spun back to the Headmaster “So, is there a room nearby we could use?” She glanced across the Grand Entry and into the East corridor. “Oh, is that room available?” she pointed at a door just barely visible to her.

“I really think it would be more appropriate to use my office, Princess Sparkle,” the Headmaster insisted.

“Oh, there’s no reason to take up your valuable time. As Headmaster I’m sure you are far too busy to simply listen to me ask questions. I’m sure Professor Filius Flitwick and I will be able to handle things quite well.”

Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore said, “I’m sure that would suffice for Miss Warren, but for Harry and Miss Belle, I’m afraid their Head of House or myself must also be present to represent their interests in lieu of their parents, ‘in loco parentis,’ you see.”

Twilight rolled her eyes, “Oh, that’s right, I haven’t given you those yet.” Additional papers flew out of her soft briefcase, startling Hermione, and everyone else watching, as the quill continued taking notes. The second one had finished and returned to her briefcase. “Here’s your copy of the paperwork declaring that I am responsible for Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo while they are attending this school, as is my duly appointed representative, Sweetie Drops, should I be unavailable.” A thin bundle of papers hovered in front of him and waited for him to grab them, which he bemusedly did. “Signed by their parents and counter-signed by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.”

Another set of papers flew out of the briefcase.

“And . . . here are your copies of the paperwork that our solicitor delivered yesterday from the Dursleys’ giving me full ‘Enduring Power of Attorney’ for Harry Potter until he reaches his majority — signed by both his aunt and uncle, and counter-signed by a judge. And, of course, Sweetie Drops is my duly appointed representative should I be unavailable.” 

She looked up at him, smiling as he took the second batch of papers floating in front of him. “So we needn’t take any of your or Professor Minerva McGonagall’s valuable time,” she concluded happily. She stopped and turned to Harry and Sweetie. “Unless either of you want the Headmaster or Professor Minerva McGonagall to be there?”They both shook their heads.

“May I be there?” Hermione asked, her eager expression belying her quiet tone. “I watched and heard everything during the ritual. There might be a detail that Harry or Sweetie might have missed or forget to tell you.”

“And we provided a bit of magic, too,” Ginny said, waving her arm to indicate the rest of the Gryffindor cohort, who all nodded.

Not to be left out, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom said, “Oh, yeah,”

“. . . we should be there, too.”

“Harry’s our herd-mate.”

The Headmaster studied the papers briefly. “Well, Miss Belle, Miss Bloom, and Miss Scootaloo,” he looked up with a puzzled frown, “are foreign students from your country, and, as such, these papers do, indeed, affirm you as their magical guardian.” He shuffled through papers and looked up from them at her, “However, Harry is a British citizen and, as a result, his wizarding guardianship cannot be transferred to a foreigner. I am sorry, Princess, but either myself or Professor McGonagall must be present if he has a meeting with a non-Hogwarts’ adult, in order to protect both his and the visitor’s interests.”

He glanced at Hermione, “Or if you wish any of the other Gryffindors to be present.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, though they were still twinkling, “How, may I ask, did you convince the Dursleys to give up his guardianship?”

Twilight glanced at Harry, then back at the Headmaster. “Oh, our solicitor took care of that, He said they were quite happy to be ‘shot’ of him, as they put it.” She had a puzzled frown. “I’m not sure what they meant by that.” She sighed, “Well, that was one of the things I wanted to discuss with Harry.”

Harry stared at the Headmaster. What did he know about the Durselys? Why did he know about the Dursleys? What business was it of his to know where Harry had been? He started to grow angry. First those books of lies about him, and now this. What else was this meddling old wizard involved in with his life?

She frowned and looked back at the Headmaster. “And then I need to discuss something with you.” She squared off in front of him, rolling her head slightly. “This is a school, is it not?”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he started to smile. That was a clear warning signal for unicorns. He and the Cutie Mark Crusaders all took a step back, pushing their friends away, too.

Dumbledore smiled back at, eyes twinkling. “Of course it is.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Then explain why ‘the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.’”* She raised an eyebrow. “Explain why there is a cerberus behind a door with a lock so simple even a child could get it open?” She stared at him levelly. “I’ve dealt with a cerberus. A cerberus is not a dog you cuddle in your lap and comb her fur.” She stopped and frowned, looking away for a moment, “Unless you’re Celestia or Fluttershy, I guess,” she murmured to herself. She shook her head and took a breath. She looked back at the Headmaster.

“Nor is it one you keep behind a simple door . . . in a school . . . full of curious and mischievous children. If Celestia had made such a statement to the students of her school, the entirety of them would consider it a challenge! One they had to brave in order to prove their worthiness to be in her school. Before a week was out all of them would have had at least one gallop at that door, if not two. And Harry and the girls discovered the cerberus by accident!”

She was glaring at him now.

“If that is an example of the safest place in all of England, then I have serious doubts about the safety of Harry and the fillies!”

“I assure you, Princess Sparkle, that there have been only a few students so inclined. The rest have stayed far away from that corridor,” the Headmaster calmly stated, his eyes twinkling.

“Really?!” Twilight responded incredulously, both eyebrows raised almost to her hairline. “Really?”

He continued to calmly smile at her.

“Let’s see about that, then.” She turned and stormed back to the Great Hall. The others followed her.

She stopped in the middle of the doorway, the students gathered there back-pedalling rapidly to give her room. She took a deep breath, “YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE!” she said in the Royal Canterlot Voice.

The entire room turned to face her.

Harry winched at the volume, as did many of those closest to the doors.

“HOW MANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT IS BEHIND THE DOOR ON THE THIRD-FLOOR CORRIDOR ON THE RIGHT-HAND SIDE?”

After a moment’s hesitation, most of the students raised their hands. Including Harry, Hermione, and the fillies.

Harry stole a look at the Headmaster. He had a stunned expression. Professor McGonagall was face-palming herself. Professor Flitwick was shaking his head with a rueful smile.

Only a few hands were raised at the Slytherin table.

Twilight turned and frowned at them.

Slowly, more hands were raised until their table, too, had most of their hands in the air. Professor Snape was looking at them disapprovingly.

She nodded, then turned and glared at the Headmaster for a moment before she turned back to the Great Hall at large, “HOW MANY OF YOU HAVE ACTUALLY SEEN IT?”

Inside the Great Hall, all the hands dropped except for the Weasley twins and Neville. Harry and his friends in the doorway kept their hands up, too.

She frowned, again. “OH, COME ON!” She shook her head, disbelievingly. “WELL? HOW MANY OF YOU HAVE ACTUALLY TAKEN A LOOK? OR ARE THE GRYFFINDORS THE ONLY ONES CLEVER, CURIOUS, OR BRAVE ENOUGH TO LOOK?”

That did it. A forest of hands rose. Not nearly as many as before, maybe only a quarter, and concentrated mostly in the upper years, but rise they did.

She turned back to Dumbledore.

“You clearly underestimate your students, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.” He looked abashed. She turned back to the Hall.

“HOW MANY OF YOU PLANNED TO EXPLORE FARTHER?”

The twin’s hands were the only ones remaining up. Professor McGonagall did not look surprised to see that the Weasley twins had their hands up, each holding up both hands.

Harry frowned as he noticed the fillies still had their hands up. Scootaloo noticed him looking at her and just smirked. Apple Bloom shrugged.

Twilight snorted at the fillies and muttered, “Of course,” as she stared at the room, sweeping her gaze across the tables, frowning darkly.

Slowly, another dozen or so hands were raised, at least two from every table, with most being in Gryffindor.

The House Heads took careful note of just whom those were in their respective Houses.

“THANK YOU!” Twilight said. She turned back to the Headmaster. “Well?” She crossed her arms and stared at him.

He sighed. “I assure you that the protections on the Cerberus more than adequate.”

“Just as you assured me that your students hadn’t been trying to get past that door to see the cerberus?” She stared at him. “Based on how your assurances totally failed on the first, why should I believe they are any better on the second? Especially as you apparently have no spells on the door to warn you when someone opened it.” She paused. “Princess Celestia will want me to see those spells myself.”

Professor McGonagall looked scandalized that anyone would doubt the Headmaster’s word, as were several older students close to them. Professor Flitwick merely watched interestedly.

Dumbledore stared at her for a long moment, stroking his beard thoughtfully. 

Harry knew the Headmaster had no doubts that if Twilight was unhappy with his protections, she would remove the three fillies. And Harry had made it quite clear that if they were not here, then he wouldn’t be, either, regardless of whether or not the old wizard was his magical guardian or not.

And keeping him here against his will would be impossible. Even if the Headmaster could adapt the anti-apparation spells to stop this new teleportation, Harry knew he only had to run into the Forbidden Forest a short distance to be outside them. Or he could call on Philomena, the phoenix, at any time and escape that way. Once he reached Little Whinging, he would run off to Equestria. Dumbledore, and Hogwarts, would never see him again.

“Perhaps a second opinion would be best,” he said quietly. “When you finish your meeting with Miss Warren, come to my office and you can suggest ways I might improve those protections.”

Twilight studied him carefully before nodding. “That sounds reasonable. And then you can tell me just what you have that requires a cerberus as a guard.” She turned to the two professors. “So, shall we use that room?” She pointed down the corridor she had originally suggested.

First, she talked with the Gryffindor First Years, and took a few magical scans. That took only a few minutes. “You may go now, if you want,” she said, dismissing them — there was no reason to waste their evening by waiting until she finished questioning Myrtle. Ron left after the third question she asked Myrtle, clearly bored. The others slowly trickled out.

For the next two hours, poor Myrtle was put through the wringer as Twilight carefully worked her way through her list. By the time she finished, Twilight was fairly bouncing off the walls in excitement and Myrtle looked exhausted. Of the Gryffindors, only Harry, the fillies, and Hermione remained.

Twilight slowed finally. “Oh, this is so exciting!” she said looking over the huge roll of paper containing her notes. “There’s just one more thing I’d like to try, if you don’t mind, Myrtle. From what you’ve told us, it sounds suspiciously like a basilisk or a cockatrice was responsible.”


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