//------------------------------//
// Self-Doubt 
// Story: Harry Potter and the Crystal Empire 
// by Damaged 
//------------------------------//

I kept my head down on the walk back. For all we were in possibly hostile lands, I trusted Addera to hear anything coming before it could actually hurt us. 

Talk about messing up. As soon as things went bad, I'd lost control and put everyone at risk. If it weren't for Ron thumping that second helmet-head, and—McGonagall and Hermione! I lifted my head and looked at Hermione. She was walking along pulling one of the ponies behind her with Ron to help (they each had a leg).

I caught glimpses of Hermione's hooves under her robe as she walked, and saw the back of her robe moving in time with her steps.

My head turned on its own to look across at McGonagall. 

Her eyes found mine. "Keep going, Mr. Potter. This was my fault entirely." She was a really good liar.

It was all my fault. I'd been so proud of being the only one who could do magic that I'd forgotten to rein in my anger. Even a pun wouldn't make me smile right now. I turned my head forward again before it dawned on me what I wasn't seeing—McGonagall's ears were not visible at the sides of her head. It looked bizarre. I just knew that if she took off her hat, a pair of pony ears would be atop her head.

"You should have brought Professor Flitwick," I said.

"Perhaps, but it was my decision. That, Mr. Potter, is why it's my fault."

"It's neither of your fault!" Hermione's voice sounded as if she'd just found something extremely unpleasant. "Whoever did this to these ponies is to blame!"

I turned my head again in time to catch a flicker of surprise fading from McGonagall's face. "Well, we did save two of them. That counts for something, right?" I asked.

"If and when they wake up, we'll see." McGonagall turned to look our way, but her eyes were fixed above me—at Addera. "You did wonderfully, dear."

Addera's arm squeezed me, imparting some measure of support I didn't expect from the contact. I turned to Addera and pressed my cheek to her chest. I wish I could just go back and fix it, warn myself that I needed to be calm and not charge in. 

Why did the smell of horse mixed with snake sooth me? No clue, but it worked. I kept all my self-recrimination to simply brooding for the whole trip back.





"We're back," Addera said.

I lifted my head and rubbed at my eyes with a hoof. A hoof. "Thanks, Addera."

—You did well, Harry Potter.— It wasn't just that she said it, but that Addera could say it without a hint of exaggeration or lie.

—I screwed up. I couldn't stick to the plan, and I just charged in!— I said.

—With so many of you around me, and with the magic I kept up, I couldn't feel that second one approaching. If you hadn't gone forward, it would have flanked me instead, Harry Potter. I don't think I could take a hit from it like you did.—

—So I was the best distraction?—

—Couldn't ask for better, Harry Potter, than someone already on fire.— There was a hint of mockery in her tone, but rather than make me feel bad it made me giggle.

"Get them to the infirmary. All four of them. Miss Granger cast another spell, and Mr. Potter took a hit in his side from one of their energy beams." McGonagall was directing house-elves. No sooner did she speak than each of the two ponies and Hermione disappeared.

"Excuse me, Harry Potter, would you allow me to apparate you to the infirmary?" I could tell it was Relaxation by a slight tear in one edge of her ear. She bowed to Addera and me, and held out her hand.

"If you harm Harry Potter…" Addera let her threat stop, flashing a fang-filled smile at Relaxation as she set me down on my hooves. 

The truth was I wanted to stay in her hooves. Addera was warm and cozy, more so than anywhere I could remember sleeping in my life. "Thanks, Addera." I lifted one hoof to Relaxation's hand. The next moment I was in the infirmary.

In the infirmary and vomiting on the floor—right beside Hermione!

"You back again? What happened?" Madam Pomfrey sounded a perfect blend of annoyed and upset. "And you brought me more ponies? First time apparating?"

Coughing a little, Hermione sounded as bad as I felt. "We liberated them from some nasty helmets. Harry took a blast in his side, and I—" Hermione cleared her throat. "I cast another spell."

Pomfrey looked between all four of us. "Mr. Potter, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the pain?"

"Uh, zero, miss." It was true, there wasn't any pain. I looked to the side I'd taken the hit on, and couldn't even see any fur out of place. "I guess it didn't really do—"

"I'll be the judge of that, but after I see to these two." Reaching to the throat of the first adult pony, Pomfrey checked for pulse, and then took out a mirror to hold before their mouth. "Even heartbeat and breath. Rest, can you take them to a bed, please?"

Rather than apparate, Rest snapped his fingers and levitated the pony up and led the way into the ward.

Repeating her checks on the other pony, Pomfrey directed Relaxation to lead them into the ward. "Now let me take a look at you two. Don't worry about the sickness—first time apparating?"

"First and last," I managed to say.

"I doubt that." Without asking permission, Madam Pomfrey stuck her (cold!) hands behind my forelegs and lifted me onto a table. "Which side took the hit, and can you describe the spell?"

"It wasn't a spell. At least, it wasn't a spell I know, and I don't think Headmistress McGonagall knew either. It happened right as Harry was turning back from his fire form." Hermione stepped past the mess on the floor and gestured to my right side. "It hit him right here."

Her fingers, I could see, sparkled like gemstones—like the foals when they crowded around my flames. I looked up at her face, and her eyes met mine. "I'm sorry."

Hermione's expression hardened and her eyes narrowed. "Strange things are happening. I don't think it's really your fault for not being able to control this right away. Those people needed saving."

Cold fingers poked at my side, brushed the fur around where I'd been hit with the spell. It was tender, and I winced a little from the touch. "A little sore?"

I nodded. "A bit."

"It doesn't resemble a burn, nor do you seem in shock over it. If the pain becomes worse, let me know." Pomfrey turned to Hermione. "Now, I'm going to need to have a good look at this—don't think I didn't notice your fingers. Follow me." When I struggled to stand and turned to face them, Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at me. "Mr. Potter, your devotion is admirable, but I cannot allow you to attend a medical examination of this sort. Rest?"

Embarrassment and panic struck with equal amounts. When the house-elf appeared, I jumped down. "I'll walk!" Apparating again wasn't on my list of things I'd like to do.

Pomfrey smiled as if she knew how much I didn't want to take a shortcut again. "Rest, please escort Mr. Potter to a bed."

When I turned for the door, I saw that the mess on the floor was gone. With one last concerned look at Hermione—and seeing her hands still crystalline—I turned for the ward and started walking.

When we were out of earshot of Pomfrey, Rest chuckled. "You learned fast. Do what Pomfrey says the first time—it's a good lesson."

"She gets upset?" I asked.

"What? No. She's just always right. 'Least when it comes to fixing people." Rest gestured at the door ahead, and the handle twisted obligingly. "Why's there a book stuck to your back?"

"That's my friend, Ginny Weasley. She's got a bit of a problem at the moment, but we're hoping to get it all fixed soon." As soon as I spoke, I heard the thunder of little hooves. My ears tracked the sound, and I looked just in time to see Tourmaline and her friends slide to a halt beside me. 

"Did you rescue the two ponies?" Tourmaline asked as she waved a hoof at some beds a bit further down.

"I think the mare is a friend of my mom's." Tanzanite sounded worried. "They look really dull. Did you remove helmets from them?"

"Did they have helmets on?"

"Of course they did. Everypony had helmets on."

"Hold on!" I looked around the foals. "Come on. I need to lay down or Rest will have to make me, and I don't want that."

Rest bobbed his head with a smile.

"I'll explain what happened, or at least what I can remember." I walked with purpose to an empty bed and tried to jump onto it.

When my rump hit the floor, Zircon snorted. "You have to kick harder." He walked up beside me and then sprang up and onto the bed. "Like that."

Oh, sure, just like that. I stood back up and was about to jump when a hoof poked me.

"Not like that. You have to bunch your muscles. Bend your leg so you're almost sitting again." It was one of the foals I hadn't caught the name of.

I followed their directions.

"Now kick and jump up!"

"Good thinking, Garnet," Tourmaline said.

Kicking as I jumped, I shot into the air and nearly went over the bed completely. I was so elated that I made it I pronked in a circle on the bed. "That was awesome! How'd I even do that? Was it magic?"

"No, silly, it was your muscles. You just weren't using them right." Zircon poked my thigh muscle with a hoof that nearly pushed me over. "This here is the strongest muscle in your body." The way he spoke made it sound like he'd learned the words from someone else. "You weren't using them at all."

"Huh. Are there any other things I should know about?" I asked.

"Well," the foal I now knew was Garnet said, "Should we tell him how to breathe fire?"

My heart skipped a beat for a second. I stared at the foal in shock. "Breathe fire?!"

Tanzanite crouched and pounced onto the bed, laying a good thump into Garnet's shoulder. "We can't."

"Why'd you tell him that? It would have been funny watching him try!" Garnet said.

"Duh, because he might have done it?"

All five foals looked at me expectantly. 

"I don't think I can breathe fire." My words failed to convince them. "I mean, I haven't really tried, but I don't think this bed would be a good place to practice."

They all looked down, realized they were on the bed too, then looked back up at me. 

"Good point," Garnet said.

"So what happened?" the one foal (a filly) who I didn't have a name for yet asked.

"Well, uh…" I looked to Tourmaline. "Sorry, I don't know all your names yet."

"That's Citrine." Tourmaline pointed at the formerly unnamed filly. "She's normally really quiet."

Focusing on the spell that held Ginny's diary to my back, I brought her around to float in front of me. The pen sandwiched between the pages from last time we'd chatted was a bit melted at the end, but it seemed otherwise alright. "Loh-koh-mot-tor!" Now I'd be able to write the story as I told it. "Well—"





I explained everything: our readiness to deal with everything except me going crazy, Addera doing excellent work with a shield spell, Hermione and McGonagall zapping the helmet off one, and Ron clubbing the helmet off the second.

I'd been so focused telling it all to the foals that I didn't even see McGonagall standing at the doorway, quietly listening. She walked down the hall toward us, not making a sound with her shoes. "I was going to ask you to explain what you saw, Mr. Potter, but I think that covers it nicely."

I snapped Ginny's diary closed around the pen. "Uh, thank you, ma'am."

"Madam Pomfrey has cleared you, but she thought spending some time in here with your new friends might be a good idea—to which I agree." McGonagall was still wearing her hat, and I could see that it still revealed her lack of human ears. "Miss Granger will be joining you shortly." Her expression seemed to soften. "Harry?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am?"

"Do try not to get yourself into such situations again." With that said, McGonagall turned and made her way for the door. Even at this range, as she walked, I could see the bottom of her hooves with each step she took.

"Headmistress McGonagall?"

She stopped and turned her head. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Was there a way I could actually say it that would make me feel better? "I'm sorry. Really sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Would it help if I deducted a point?" She sounded like she was smiling, but without being able to see properly I couldn't tell. She must have seen my grin, because she dipped her head a little. "One point will be taken from Gryffindor."

I had a flashback to when Hermione had taken the blame for us fighting the troll that had broken in during first-year. A poke in my side made me wince and turn to see Tanzanite gesturing at my ribs.

"Is that where they zapped you with their helmet magic?" Tanzanite asked.

"Yeah," I said, "But Ron stopped them before it could hurt too much."

The filly tipped her head to the side. "He's the one who keeps sneaking in with cookies? Red hair on top, no tail…" 

"Sounds like him." I opened Ginny's diary back up and saw my name printed inside with a question mark after it.



Sorry, Ginny. McGonagall came in and wanted to discuss some things. 





Oh! I was worried.





I just found out your brother has been sneaking here to give the foals cookies.





He used to sneak me cookies. Don't tell him I said it, but he can be a pretty good big brother sometimes.



The door opened again and two shapes walked in—one of them making clopping sounds with each step. "Harry?" Hermione asked. "I caught her listening at the door."

"I can't go in. The time is not auspicious yet!" The voice sounded light and airy. When I narrowed my eyes on them, they were wearing a hat.

"Well tough luck! You shouldn't be—Hey!" Hermione was in some kind of scuffle with the stranger. 

I jumped to my hooves and took off at a run, but by the time I reached Hermione the stranger had fled. "Who was she? I think that was the girl who's been sending me letters!"

Recovering her stance, Hermione looked at the patch from a robe in her hand. "I don't know, but—"

"But what?" I asked.

"It wasn't a girl, Harry. I thought it was at first, but that was a boy." Holding up the patch she'd ripped from their robe, Hermione grinned. "Ravenclaw, too. I'll tell Headmistress McGonagall about this!"

"Wait!" I ran around and stood in the doorway. "Why don't we wait until lunch and see who shows up in a torn robe?"

"And what if there's no one in a torn robe?" Hermione asked.

"Then we'll go to McGonagall." I looked at her hand where it held the crest of Ravenclaw. "Did you see his face?"

"No such luck. I caught him from behind and he ducked his head down." Hermione's eyes widened. "Wait. He's the one sending you the letters everyone's been talking about?"

"I think so. Maybe. He kinda sounded like the letters." Then it hit me. Hermione had said everyone's been talking about these letters. This was the worst thing ever! "How many people know about the letters?"

Hermione looked away. "Fred and George—"

"They'll tell everyone!" 

"Let me finish, Harry." With a deep breath, Hermione started walking in the direction of the bed I'd recently vacated. "Fred and George opened a book on it."

Then I was done for. If they'd opened a book on who it was, then I would—Hold on. "You were trying to find out who it was!" I trotted to catch up with Hermione and reached the bed at the same time she did. "That's my bed."

Five little gasps distracted me from the conversation we were having. Hermione had reached out to pet Tourmaline's head, but the foals had seen her hands.

"You're a crystal pony!"

"Don't be silly, she's not a pony!"

"She has hooves for it."

Tourmaline looked up at Hermione with a big grin. "Your crystal is very pretty." When the others all nodded to back the filly up, Tourmaline continued being bold. "Can we see the rest of it?"

Hermione slipped out of her robe and sat on the edge of the bed. "Turn around, Harry."

Confusion reigned. "What? Why?!"

"Just do it? Please?"

Turning around, I couldn't help but add, "It's not like I can see anything. I need new glasses."

More gasps of surprise from behind me were almost enough to make me turn. 

"You're really pretty, but you don't have your cutie mark yet?" I could pick the voice as Citrine's.

"What's a cutie mark?" Hermione asked.

Five little gasps implied that this was yet another revelation.

"Cutie marks are the symbol of your destiny! They're really important! We should be getting ours any day now, but you're older than us—you should have one already!" Zircon said.

I heard the sound of what I hoped was Hermione covering whatever part of her she'd shown the foals. "What kind of mark is it?"

"It should be there! Well, before you covered it up. It appears on both sides and lets everypony know what your special talent is." Tourmaline this time.

"Wait," I said. "What about me? I don't have one, do I? Can I turn around?"

"You're a not-pony. Only ponies have cutie marks," Zircon said.

"You can turn around." Hermione's voice had a hint of relief. 

Sounds were a bigger part of my life without my glasses to let me see, and I was finding these not-pony pony ears to be great for picking them out. "I don't know what the big deal is. It's not like I could see much anyway."

Hermione made a slightly strangled noise. "That doesn't matter, Harry." She took an audibly deep breath. "I wish this would just be over so I can help properly. Do—Do you think I should?"

"I don't think I'm the one you should be coming to for moral questions like that. Remember that I thought flying Ron's dad's car to school was a good idea." My eyesight might be bad, but I could see the smile my words had brought. It felt good to know I'd made Hermione smile—she was a good friend.

What Hermione was reaching for next was obvious. She drew her long slender wand out and looked over it. "A shield spell should do it. If you're feeling up to it, Harry, you could throw some spells at it."

"Hermione?" I asked. "I can't even see if you're trying to make an awesomely heroic face or a crazy one."

She barked a laugh and let out the rest of the breath she'd been holding. "Well now you ruined it, Harry." She sounded nervous. "Pro-tay-goh!" I felt the rush of magic as she built a shield.

The shield charm, being invisible, let in enough light that I could watch as Hermione's face changed—though I couldn't watch well. The change as the crystalline pattern crept up her neck and over her face was distinctive enough that I wanted to lean closer.

Though Hermione stuck her tongue out at me, leaning closer meant I got to watch her horn growing in, her ears flow up the side of her head and elongate, and her snout push out from her face. In short, Hermione Granger wound up with the head of a pony. 

"Pro-tay-goh!" Hermione said, and again I felt a rush of magic, but this time it wasn't focused through her wand. "H-Harry! What did I just do? Do I have a horn? Why aren't I changing more?"

I listened to Hermione's words grow more and more panicked, though I had few answers. "Stop it, Hermione! You have a horn, but you don't seem to be changing anymore!"

"Is it the spell? Do I need to use different spells? Wing-gar-dee-um levi-o-sa!" She swung her wand with the kind of precision I could only wish for, but the magic Hermione used came from her horn, not her wand. 

An empty bed on the other side of the room started floating upward, but Hermione didn't change anymore.

The bed clattered to the floor, and Hermione let out a shriek. "Why won't it finish? What's wrong with me?!"

Five little fuzzy bodies clambered around Hermione, and I figured I might as well make it six. "It's alright, Hermione."

"It's not bloody-well alright." There was no heat in Hermione's words. 

I clung to her as much for myself as for Hermione. Somehow, I knew I was going to get the blame for this.





Minerva McGonagall found herself wishing that she had the supposed gifts of Sybill Trelawney. "Seeing the present clearly would be enough right now, though the future would be an advantage."

"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" Severus Snape, as always, didn't make a sound as he swept into McGonagall's office. Folding his arms over one another, he smoothed out his robe.

"I know we don't always see eye to eye, Severus, but I had hoped we could at least remain civil." Chastisement and offer both, Minerva had only had the job of headmistress of Hogwarts for three long days and she already felt the weight her old friend had bore. "If you please?"

Severus looked down his nose at Minerva. "Very well, Minerva, for the sake of the children. What do you need of me?"

"Severus, even Albus would think twice before speaking against me right now—but you never would."

Severus almost smiled. Almost. "If you're questioning my ability to twist the truth with honeyed words, I—"

"Oh no. I don't doubt you could have me questioning every word that came out of your mouth, but you don't do that, do you?"

"There's no point." 

Minerva looked over the rim of her glasses at Severus. "I plan to cast a lot of spells. Enough that will turn me all the way into one of these creatures."

Severus took a breath before even thinking on the words. They had gravity, intent. He weighed the options and built a list of disadvantages and benefits. "The students will lose some faith in you. The staff will as well, unless you can make sure they understand why you're doing it. The advantage is that you will be able to cast spells again unfettered."

"Well?" Minerva was almost on the edge of her seat, at least by her standards. Outwardly, she showed every sign of being relaxed except that her tail kept sweeping back and forth behind her. It might be an equine tail, but old habits were hard to give up.

"What Hogwarts needs is a trained wizard or witch of high competence that can cast spells freely, who has no roles at this moment. Someone who is expendable."

"I don't like that word, Severus." Minerva reached up to adjust her glasses and look down at the staff list.

"That, Minerva, is why I am entertaining this problem at all." Almost-smiling again—Severus adjusted his robes and swished his arms around to their opposite sides. "You're in charge, Minerva, but we are hardly as rigid a command as the Ministry. You can but ask, and she can say yes or no."

"A witch?"

Severus Snape inclined his head only a fraction.





The choice, Minerva had to agree, was inspired. She left her office a moment after Severus did and started along the huge hallway for the teachers' lounge.

Castle Hogwarts seemed to sigh whenever Minerva walked around it. There was a sense of connection she felt with it, despite her not even residing in the headmaster's office. The castle knew who she was, and it respected her. Minerva, on the other hand, regretted her little deal with Albus. 

Her talk with Severus had done two things: Minerva felt a newfound confidence in her abilities, and she loathed what she had to ask of an old friend. As she stepped into the staff room midway through second period, Minerva wasn't surprised to find just the witch she wanted to talk to.

Rolanda Hooch sat with a bag of brooms on either side of her. The old school brooms had seen better days (they'd seen better decades, too), but if it weren't for Rolanda's efforts they wouldn't be seeing any days anymore.

Examining the bristles of the broom in her hand, Rolanda turned it this way and that before carefully slipping a new twig into it from a pile beside her. "Good morning, headmistress." She waited a moment for Minerva's reply, but when it didn't come Rolanda looked up. "Something got your tail, Minny?"

Minerva McGonagall almost sat on the stack of enchanted twigs Rolanda Hooch had secured from Pomona Sprout. She flicked her tail to one side and back before setting her rump on the bench seat. Sitting for a moment to watch her friend work, Minerva felt she couldn't put it off any longer. "Rolanda, I have something extremely serious I need to ask you."

"This isn't about quidditch, is it?" Rolanda's hands finally stopped their work and slid the repaired broom into the right hand bag. "What's the matter?"

"Besides being in a world that has more magic than sense and a desire to see us all turned into little horses? Nothing. Life is peachy-keen." Few were the people Minerva McGonagall could completely relax in the presence of, but Rolanda Hooch was one such. "You understand I'm not trying to force you, or make you—"

"Minny, just spit it out. We're both too old for this kind of game."

"We need a witch or wizard who can freely cast magic without any reservations. I must ask—"

"Sure."

Minerva was afraid of this. "You haven't heard all of it. You haven't even heard half of it. This—"

"You were going to do it, weren't you?" Rolanda reached down to her right and pulled another broom out of the little bag there. This one wasn't missing any twigs—it had too many. It looked like some stray magic had asked the broom, like some kind of fairy godmother, what it wanted to do with the remainder of its life, and the broom had said, I want to be a tree again!. She reached for her secateurs and started trimming back the leaves and flower buds. "Cast spells until you become a little horse. Then you could cast all day long like Harry Potter. Oh, come on Minny, you're not the only witch who keeps her eyes and mind open.

"Of course I wasn't your first choice—you wanted to do this yourself, but someone talked you out of it. Keep listening to them, whoever they are. Just give me a minute to finish this broom and I can make a start on it. Do you know what spells will get it done quickest?"

"T-Transfiguration, oddly, doesn't seem to do it quickly at all. I believe it has to do with the magic potential expended." Minerva hated herself for how easy it had been to convince Rolanda, not that it had even taken any convincing. "Young Hermione Granger changed most of her legs with just one shield spell held against some brute-force magic."

"You know I'm not the most learned witch here." Rolanda trimmed off the last few buds of new growth and slid that broom into the bag beside her. "But even a passable witch like me would be better use than a second year boy and a new witch barely learning her first spells." At Minerva's look of shock, Rolanda rolled her eyes. "I actually listen to what people say, Minny."

Minerva was about to say something when Rolanda stood up and slung a bag of brooms on each shoulder.

"No time like the present, headmistress." Rolanda walked with a spring in her step—like she always did. It was a wonderful if chill day in the not-Scottish Highlands, and she was going to cast some magic. She dropped off the two bags in the storage room assigned to her class, and headed outside with Minerva trailing behind.

Without needing an incantation for such a spell, Rolanda drew her wand and sketched a complicated set of twirls in the air. She stepped forward onto nothing. It took Rolanda a moment to realize what had changed, but when she first felt her ears twitch and shift about, she worked it out.

An athlete so far as flight was concerned, Rolanda Hooch knew every bit of her body without exception. "Basic levitation spells don't seem to take too much work. What about something with a little more kick?" 

All of the hover charms were Rolanda's bread and butter. She could cast any of them without words, but her favorite was the Rocket Charm. She only had to build the construct in her head and flick her wand for magic to scream and rush into the patterns.

Minerva watched her friend shoot into the air with a streaming silver pony tail trailing out from under her robes.

Rolanda felt alive. Magic in whatever world she'd landed herself in was more than just the tiny threads of power she normally had to coax to her bidding—this was like directing a river. The first Rocket Charm had resulted in an odd tingling in her legs. 

As she reached the peak of her ballistic trajectory, Rolanda loosed another Rocket Charm and shot off almost horizontal to the ground. The tingling spread to her arms and shoulders as Rolanda sped around. Next was her head and face—which she quickly learned showed up as a brilliant blue snout in the middle of her vision. 

Stopping only when her wand dropped from a hoof that could no longer hold it, she plunged back down to the ground and came to rest on the soft padding of her Hover Charm. Rolanda set four hooves down and squirmed in her robes. "Minny, can you help me out of these?" She was excited to get out of the clothes because she felt something on her back—new limbs—and she desperately wanted to see if they were what she thought they were.

"In public? What if the students see?!" Minerva looked around, fearful that a member of staff heard, let alone a student.

"You wanted me to turn myself into a horse, Minerva. It's not like horses have anything to—Got it!" Stepping back and out of her robes, Rolanda shucked off the rest of her clothes as well. "Minerva!"

"I see them!" 

"Minerva, I've got wings!" Pure joy shot through Rolanda as she spread the new limbs. Without a thought she spread her wings and jumped upward with a great flap—and fell face-first into the ground when neither wing caught any air.

Bundling up the robes and clothing her old friend had tossed free, Minerva took a moment to admire Rolanda. Shimmering blue and crystalline, her gray mane and tail seemed twice as long as either needed to be, and yet it wasn't either of them currently getting in Rolanda's way. "Fold your wings up and come inside. Let Madam Pomfrey take a look at you."

Rolanda wasn't sure how any of her limbs should work, but her legs at least seemed fine for walking. Put one arm-leg forward and down, then repeat with the other, and let leg-legs follow. Only instead of just walking, Rolanda Hooch pranced. "Minerva, I've got wings! I can fly! Really fly!"

"Technically, you can fall. Flying will probably take a lot of work." Minerva McGonagall hurried along to the medical wing.

Fending off more exclamations of pure joy, Minerva was surprised to find Madam Pomfrey missing. A quick investigation revealed where she was—the ward—and what she was doing—fussing over a student who looked like she was made from pure crystal. "What happened here?"

"This young lady thought it a good idea to keep casting spells so she would change completely and not have to worry about changing any further." Madam Pomfrey lifted her head and turned to look at Minerva McGonagall, but her eyes stopped at the blue pony standing beside the headmistress. "Mr. Potter, you should probably seek quarantine—there is a terrible case of lunacy going around."