//------------------------------//
// 87 — Plots and Plans 
// Story: If Wishes were Ponies . . . . 
// by tkepner 
//------------------------------//

Castor smiled broadly. “One set I’m sure every emergency technician will want are the stasis runes. Those will also interest the military,” he said, nodding to the Foreign Secretary. “You paint them on someone’s chest and their bodily functions slow to almost nothing.” His grin got bigger. “No more losing patients at the scene of an accident or on the way to a hospital. If you get that painted on fast enough, you can even stop an arterial accident or heart attack victim from dying, even if it takes you an hour to get them to a hospital. Everything just stops!

“Our lead scientists think we can disguise the stasis runes as part of a device that snaps together to activate when you strap it on someone. A mild sticking charm keeps it in contact until it is removed. Doing it that way will, hopefully, adequately disguise the spell as something technological.”

He cleared his throat. “This week, we tried treating our first set of amputees at a local hospital in Little Whinging. The medicines, unfortunately, only work on those with inherent . . . talent. However, the technology,” by which he meant runes and spells, as they all knew, “does work, albeit slower than on the other side of the portal. The difference doesn’t yet seem to have a set pattern. That is under investigation.”

He continued with, “It seems that, in Equestria, there is sufficient ambient energy to power the medicines without relying on the subject, but on this side there is not. However, some individuals have tiny amounts of it to assist the medicines. Not enough to register even as squibs, though.

“Twilight has promised to look into that and thinks she might be able to energize small gems to power the medicines on this side. The patient would either swallow them with the medicine or wear them near the wound or affected area, like the stasis devices. She isn’t sure, but she’s confident something can be done.

“Between re-growing lost limbs, these runes, and the cures they seem to have, most hospitals and rehabilitation facilities can be reduced to half-size or less. And the beds freed up faster per incident. 

“About the only thing the princess hasn’t mentioned is a cure for old-age!”

The Home Secretary was extremely pleased. “This will be quite the budget reducer!” he exclaimed happily during their discussions on what Castor had just told them.

Sir Walker interrupted as he removed a picture from one of the folders in his briefcase and took out several pictures. “Is this anything we need to be concerned about?”

The pictures showed a series of small fires of an acre or so in size beside an old castle, and a line of destruction that connected them. Farther away from the new fire-damaged area was the older one that was slowly recovering from when Princess Luna had captured the basilisk. (Twilight had confessed what had happened when Castor had presented her with the photo of the area.)

“I don’t think so,” Castor said uncertainly. “I’ll show this to Twilight and see if she knows anything about it.”

The Foreign Secretary, the Right Honourable Douglas Hurd nodded and then said, “The response to the announcement of the Equestrian Embassy is still ongoing. After the initial confusion — quite a number of media outlets accused us of orchestrating this as a Halloween prank — the foreign governments are mostly stunned at the moment.

“Most are taking this one step at time, although there is a bit of an uproar among the more extreme groups. They seem to be split between those accusing us of fraud and those accusing us of facilitating an invasion.  Most of whom are our enemies.

“Our allies are a bit miffed that they have been held in the dark so long. They said they should have been consulted immediately — especially the Yanks.” They all laughed at that. “However, in private, they have admitted that they would have done the same thing, so it isn’t the disaster it could have been.”

Sir McColl put in, “Yes, the local CIA chief was very put-out that none of his people ever caught wind of the portal. I was sure one of our more excitable scientists would let slip what they were working on, but it never happened.” He leaned back, smiling. “It appears that the rapid reveal released the scientists from withholding publishing papers and eliminated any resentment before it could build up.”

Hurd continued, “The communists, both Russian and Chinese, are outraged that they hadn’t been told of the portal much sooner. They have, as you know, very vocally decried our imperialistic high-handedness at failing to inform them of such a momentous event — once they stopped accusing us of promulgating a farce on the world. They are demanding immediate access. They, of course, refuse to admit they would have done the same thing in our position.” He made a sour expression. “With the way things are going in the Soviet Union right now, I suspect all of their noise is merely an attempt by certain bureaucrats to hang onto their positions.”

Sir McColl again spoke up, “The Chinese are quite upset with their agents, I’ve heard. There have been more than a few demotions and rearrangements in their department’s structure.” He grinned. “A few misleading ‘leaks’ worked quite well at keeping them in the fog.”

The Foreign Secretary picked up the conversation. “Still, both groups eagerly await trade talks with the Equestrians, and have expressed their Demand that we don’t interfere. We have passed our concerns on to the Equestrians.

“Ambassador Blueblood has informed me that his schedule for the next month is quite full, already. Fortunately, our early encouragement and acceptance of everything has led to Ambassador Blueblood giving me his assurances that the exact nature of the technology and its power supply are not going to be mentioned to any other government in the near future. And the trade will be limited to non-technology items.”

He grinned, “I imagine the Chinese and Russians are going to be quite confused at the Equestrians’ focus on their art, music, and theatre and not on their technical prowess.”

He took a deep breath. “How the wizards are reacting to all this, I don’t know. I’m not even sure they have discovered it yet. The Daily Prophet hasn’t mentioned it at all. So, either they don’t know, or they don’t care.”

“None of the ‘suspect’ portraits have reacted yet,” said the Prime Minister. “Mine kept reappearing in my office from storage, but nothing was ever said to me about our removing and restoring the paintings, elsewhere, so I don’t think they suspect we identified their spying network. Now that we’ve placed them in semi-public areas where people know to keep their mouths shut, we shouldn’t have to worry about the wizards picking up conversations they shouldn’t.” He sighed, “In any case, any conversations regarding the Equestrians are either in cleared meeting rooms or while I’m traveling. To help distract the wizards there are several meeting rooms were non-Equestrian conversations are allowed.

“And with regular sweeps by ‘Special Technology’ experts, we won’t have to worry about them sneaking in something in the future.”

“I expect to see an increase in foreign activity, regardless of the magicals,” said Sir Walker. “There are going to be an awful lot of people interested in the Equestrians. I’ve ordered the military into a more obvious presence around their Embassy to forestall any violence.”

Their discussions ran until late that night.


۸-_-۸


Albus carefully set his teacup down. “Thank you for meeting with me, today, Cornelius.” He glanced around the comfortable sitting room. Mrs. Fudge had already left the room.

“Not at all, Albus,” Fudge said pompously. “I’m always available to someone of your stature.” He leaned forward in his chair, then said, “It must be very important for you to ask to meet here on Sunday instead of my office on Monday.” He was lounging in a bright green morning coat with neat white shirt and darker green trousers. He wasn’t dressed for work, but neither was he dressed inappropriately to receive company.

The Minister was trying to give the appearance of confidence, but his inability to sit still gave away his nervousness. The Headmaster almost never visited him at his home. It both flattered and worried him.

Albus gave him a gentle smile and stroked his beard as he sat back in his chair. “Yes. Indeed.” He gazed calmly at the wizard. “I don’t know how much you pay attention to the muggle world . . . .”

The portly little wizard waved a hand negligently. “Unless it concerns us, not much at all.” He tried to shrug casually, “No more than any other wizard would do in my position.”

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. “Indirectly, then, something of great import to wizards and witches has occurred in the muggle world.”

Cornelius raised his eyebrows.

“The muggles claim to have made contact with an alien race.”

The Minister for Magic stared at him, then dismissively said, “Impossible! We know there’s no life beyond Earth!”

Dumbledore nodded, “Yes, I know. Nonetheless, the muggles insist that they have been contacted by aliens . . . through a portal.”

Cornelius frowned at him. “A portal?”

“Yes, they claim that the aliens, who look like normal muggles except with outrageous hair colours, discovered a portal to our world and came through it to meet them.”

The Minister was staring at him in disbelief.

“And that their appearance as muggles is strictly because of the portal. They claim their normal form is that of a pony. They even allowed muggles through the portal so they could take pictures. Which look as if they were taken in England.” Dumbledore had spent quite some time poring over the pictures, examining what details he could eke out from the numerous articles he had managed to find Friday and Saturday.

Most of the pictures had been of the area around the portal, with explanations for the crystal buildings around them. A few had been of the apple farm and forest just beyond. And while no other animals had been in the pictures, the pictures looked as if they could have been made almost anywhere on Earth.

Albus reached into a robe pocket and pulled out the newspaper. It was folded to display the photos of the aliens and the forest in the background. “They call their native world Equus. And themselves Equestrians.”

As the portly wizard stared at the colour photographs, Albus added, “They explain that they used their technology to learn to speak, read, and write English. Which, as a result, substitutes words in their language for English equivalents. Thus it translates their words from what they are to a close English equivalent in context, not literally.” He knew from his studies that all primitive muggles called themselves “the people” in their own language, which outsiders always assumed were their tribal names. And anyone not of the “people” were not people, by definition. It was all semantics.

Cornelius finally looked up and, somewhat scared, asked, “Is this real?”

“Quite real, according to the muggles.” He leaned back. “The muggles have even allowed the ‘aliens’ to build an official Embassy to establish trade relations. According to the article, they’ve already shared some technology with the muggles and shown them advances in medicine that the muggles are calling ‘almost like magic.’” He nodded towards the newspaper the Minister still held loosely.

Cornelius looked up sharply at that last word.

Albus slowly nodded his head. “But the aliens are very carefully saying it is technology, just far in advance of what the muggles currently understand. The muggles even include a quote in that newspaper that ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’”

For a long time Cornelius stared at the Headmaster, his brow deeply furrowed. “Are they really from another world? It’s not a hoax or a trick?”

Albus smiled, “That is the million galleon question.” He stroked his beard. “From the muggles’ perspective, the aliens might actually be from another dimension and not from space, as they claim.” he waved a hand over his head. “I read that in one article I read yesterday,” he said smirking ever so slightly. “The truth of the matter is a bit more complicated. No. I don’t believe they are from another world or dimension. If you turn the newspaper to the front page, you’ll see what I mean.

The Minister did as requested and gasped. “Those are the Atlanteans!” He stared at the Headmaster in shock.

“Yes, they are.”

“But they’re breaking the Statue of Secrecy!” he almost shouted.

“No. They are not.”

Cornelius leaned back in his chair, gobsmacked.

“If you read the article closely, you’ll see that they always refer to doing things with their technology. They always claim to be from another world. They use their animagi forms on the other side of the portal and claim that is their normal form. They blame the portal for their change to muggle.

“In other words, if you didn’t know about magic, you would take them at their word — that they are aliens. And being aliens, if they do something the muggles don’t understand, the aliens can claim it is merely their technology.

“They are, in truth, doing a very good job of disguising themselves.” He sighed. “It is a trick that could only have worked recently. Prior to Grindelwald, the muggles would have simply called it magic. But now? With so many inventions by muggles that mimic magical items? They can easily pull it off.”

Still befuddled, the Minister said, “But, why? What could the muggles possibly have that would interest a wizard or witch?”

Albus shrugged and stroked his beard. “Well, as you no doubt know, they don’t seem to have muggles in their homeland. And some of the inventions the muggles have are very interesting to them. Like a child with a new toy, they want to know everything there is to know about the muggles.”

Fudge gave him an incredulous look.

Albus shook his head slowly, “I do not understand it, myself.” He sighed. “The Atlanteans are very interested in some of the tricks the muggles have come up with, such as the telephone, television, movies, aeroplanes, and other silly such things.”

Fudge nodded uncertainly.

The Headmaster leaned forward. “While they appear to have violated the Statute of Secrecy, they haven’t. And we need to come up with a strategy to explain that to wizards and the ICW without making a hash of it. Or making it look like the Equestrians have fooled us.”

“What should we do?” asked the Minister, “What should we do?” He began wringing his hands worriedly.

Albus explained.


۸-~-۸


It was the following Friday and the cohort was finally free of detentions. To say they were looking forward to an afternoon and weekend outside was an understatement.

Neville had managed to complete the potions’ assignment today without a melted cauldron, Harry was happy to see. The potion colour was red instead of pink and smelled vaguely like bacon instead of old socks. The Gryffindor’s gleeful acceptance of Dreadful instead of Troll indicated his pleasure at the improvement.

Professor Snape gave Sweetie Belle a Dreadful on the grounds she hadn’t blown up the room or otherwise transformed the students into new and unusual forms, even if her potion was blue and smelled like bananas.

Naturally, Hermione and Apple Bloom received Acceptables. Those two had quickly assumed head-of-class in their potions’ ability.

Harry and the Gryffindors were relieved because, as Ron put it, “We dodged a spell on that one! At least now we don’t have to worry that you’ll miss our Quidditch match tomorrow.” He glowered at the Slytherins, their scheduled opponents.

The Slytherins were glad not to be subjected to yet another potions’ class mishap. However, they were disappointed that the Gryffindors were not disadvantaged for tomorrow’s game. Having their rival lose their Seeker would have guaranteed the Slytherins first place in the house points, they thought. But, all-in-all, they quietly agreed, they would rather have a peaceful potions class.

Malfoy didn’t say anything the fillies could hear, but he did sneer at Harry. The three fillies gave him a hard look in return, and he hurried with his two boyfriends to catch up with the rest of the Slytherins ahead of them.

Stallions preferring stallions over mares was a rarity in Equestria, although it did happen. Most mares were upset at the loss of two eligible stallions, but it was their free choice. On the other hand, most such stallions could be coaxed into providing a foal if enough of an incentive was provided, so it wasn’t a total loss. Close friendships also entered the equation, so no mare wanted to ridicule or criticize such a stallion and take a chance on upsetting his mare friends.

Of course, there were exceptions. There was always a bit of tension in smaller towns and villages were the competition for stallions was more intense.

Harry and the fillies assumed that with the stallion-to-mare ratio here being near one-to-one that such couples, or threesomes, were nowhere near as unpopular.

Harry was amazed that the Gryffindors all managed to escape the confines of the dungeon classroom without incident. His bubble-head charm was becoming more effective, lasting almost a full ten minutes before needing renewal. The rest of the class was averaging around seven minutes. Still, they were congratulating themselves on a rather uneventful class as they entered the Great Hall for lunch.

For the Gryffindors, merely losing points in Professor Snape’s class was a nice change. No strange new appendages. No weird colours. No melted cauldrons. It was almost too good to be true.

It was only after lunch that the Gryffindors and Slytherins discovered that Sweetie Belle’s potion hadn’t been quite as inert as everyone had thought. As the students hit the toilets and made more room for their lunches, those who had solids to eliminate heard dulcet tones emerging from the toilets below them, praising their attitudes and accomplishments.

Their pooh was singing to them. Loudly. And scaring the pooh out of them. More than one wizard or witch managed to exit the toilets while leaving their pants and trousers around their ankles. Which led to much embarrassment, and more than a few hexings of other students for laughing at the victims.

Several of the witches retreated to their dorms and refused to come out.

Once the surprise ran out, the wizards had another reaction — whose pooh could sing the loudest. And longest. And then the wizards compared notes on what was sung. It made for a rather amusing and strange afternoon. 

The potion wore off in only a few hours, well before dinner.

But it resulted in yet another long interview for Sweetie Belle with the clearly envious Weasley twins. 

“Please, Sweetie Belle?” George said sweetly, later.

“Come with us and we’ll tell you some secrets . . . ,” said Fred in sugary tones.

“. . . about brewing potions.”

“We’ll give you all the practice you need . . . ,”

“. . . to excel in the git’s class.”

Sweetie Belle and the other fillies stared at them suspiciously. 

Harry said suspiciously, “In exchange for what?”

“Nothing,” said George.

“We just want to teach her to brew potions.”

They smiled disarmingly.

“Oh? Really?” came the strict and frosty voice beside the group.

The redheaded twins’ smiles became fixed and tense as they looked over their shoulders and saw Professor McGonagall standing there. She had her arms crossed and an eyebrow arched in disbelief. “I think not.” She frowned down at them. “From now on, Sweetie Belle is only allowed to brew the potion assigned by Professor Snape. In the company of her classmates, with a prefect supervising. Is that clear?”

They sighed, “Yes, we understand, Professor.” They sighed a second time and then bid the seven goodbye. And walked away under the watchful eye of their Head of House.

Those still in the Common Room then watched as McGonagall posted another rule on the ATTENTION ALL GRYFFINDORS! Common Room board. A sign which everyone knew was aimed straight at the First Year Animagi. This rule was no exception.

The professors hadn’t yet learned the futility of trying to forestall the four from Equestria. They didn’t have the year-and-a-half of experience of living in Ponyville, with near daily misadventures to avoid. Twilight could have told them, but they wouldn’t have believed her. Even if Bonbon and Lyra backed her up.





10.  Sweetie Belle is ONLY allowed to brew potions under the direct supervision of Professor Snape, or an accomplished potions student three (3) years her senior.
..a. The Weasley twins are excluded from supervising any students, at any time, for any reason, with regards to potions, unless Professor Snape gives his un-coerced permission.







۸-_-۸


That evening, in the staff meeting, and after Professors Snape and McGonagall explained that day’s potions accident, Professor Sprout had something important to add.

“You’ll remember the assignment I gave the First Years regarding the Walking Bushes.” She started. “Well, I can definitively say that the plants the Equestrians, and Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter, carried are in better health and have larger gains in size, thickness, and mobility.” She smiled. “In particular, the plants carried by Ronald Weasley and Apple Bloom are now the biggest bushes of the bunch.” She frowned down at her papers on the table. “It is definitely an effect of being close to the Equestrians. The Hufflepuffs’ plants followed normal growth patterns, while the students who were closest, literally, to the Equestrians and Mr. Weasley showed significant improvements.” She sighed. “The only conclusion I can make is that the magic around the Equestrians is affecting the Walking Plants, and the closer one is to the source the more prevalent the effect. It is like having a so-called green-thumb, only moreso.

“Why the four non-Equestrians produce this, I don’t know. The only commonality is that they are all pony animagi. It is of note, however, that both Ron Weasley and Apple Bloom are what the Equestians call earth-ponies, and the Equestrians say that earth-ponies are naturally talented with plants and the earth.”


۸-~-۸


The Quidditch season officially began on Saturday, It was Harry’s first match after weeks of training. That it was Gryffindor versus their detested Slytherin rivals merely upped the pressure. Gryffindor winning would move them into second place in the House Championship based on the points won and lost so far in classes.

While everyone knew Harry was to play Seeker, Wood had decided that practices would be in the evening when players were difficult to tell apart. That hid how well Harry could play in general, not that he was playing. Harry didn’t know which was worse — his fellow Gryffindors telling him he’d be brilliant or Draco and the other Slytherins saying they’d be running around underneath him holding a mattress.

With Hermione’s help — she really was a brilliant witch — he managed to keep up on all his homework. And while the fillies were smart, they weren’t her level of smart. Book-walking might have helped if the professors hadn’t adjusted their class assignments to compensate for the better understanding and retention rates the students now displayed. 

Hermione had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which barely contained more information about the game than Ron did. But it was interesting, and presented the information in a much easier to understand manner. And didn’t focus only on the Chudley Cannons rather dubious accomplishments.

After seeing the Headmaster actually making a mistake during the troll incident, Hermione was a bit less likely to listen to adults — they were not infallible, she had learned. She was also a bit more relaxed about breaking rules. She was much nicer for it, the First Years all agreed.

The Great Hall was full of cheerful chatter and the smell of delicious sausages, steaks, waffles, and other delights that morning. It looked to be a good day for a Quidditch match, clear and sunny, and almost warm as long as you stayed out of the wind.

Harry, however, was not in a gay mood as were the other students. Anticipation was playing havoc with his stomach. He had never done anything where he was watched by a thousand people. Even the school plays had only featured his friends and their families.

This was different. There were hundreds of strangers watching and judging him. Not even the fillies wheedling could get him to choke down more than a slice of toast. Far too soon, he was in the locker room changing into his scarlett team robes.

Harry saw, out of the corner of his eyes, as they were trooping out into the field that his friends had created a banner, flashing Potter for President, over the crowd. He had to smile at the thought, and took comfort that his friends were behind him. 

He had to think that the Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were holding Scootaloo in place to keep her from joining the game. After all the games the pegasi had played lately, he could understand the temptation.

Then he noticed the hundreds of people all staring at him and nearly stopped moving.

At the blast of Madam Hooch’s whistle, fifteen brooms rose up into the sky.

It was a hard fought game for the other members of his team, and he quickly forgot about the crowds watching as he searched for the elusive Snitch. There was a bit of comedy as Professor McGonagall kept upbraiding the announcer, Jordan, for his off-colour comments about the Gryffindor team and the witches on it. And the Slytherins were certainly holding to their reputation as relentless rule-benders and cheaters.

It was only when Harry’s broom started to buck that anyone realized that something was wrong.


۸-~-۸