Bright Star sighed despondently and put her last book away. Ember Glow slowly opened her eyes. “Is something wrong, deary?” she asked, turning her head to see the pony.
Bright Star put on a happy and reassuring expression. “Nothing you need to worry about, Auntie Em.”
The old mare studied her for several moments. “You’ve been here every day for some time, now,” she slowly said.
“Nine days,” acknowledged Bright Star.
The mare nodded. “Don’t you have other things to do?” She said softy, her voice quavering.
Bright Star smiled. “Yes, and I’ve been doing them before and after visiting hours.” She couldn’t say she was trying to find somepony to replace her, and establishing alibis. And that she was already three days behind schedule — she couldn’t afford to wait much longer to return to the Portal and slip across.
The old mare raised an eyebrow and flicked her ears.
“I’m planning a trip, you see. I want to travel and explore. And this is giving me the peace and quiet I need to plan properly. It’s nothing urgent, you know. I have more than enough time to sit with you.”
Which, Bright Star knew, wouldn’t be much longer. Ember Glow was almost sleeping the entire day and night, now. The nurses estimated that she wouldn’t last more than a week, maybe two.
Ember Glow’s eyes closed. Soon, a soft snore could be heard.
Bright Star had hoped she could find a substitute by now, but hadn’t found what she considered a reasonable replacement, yet. She wanted somepony intelligent enough not to blow the plan, but not smart enough to realize the scam and go to the Guards. And just going up to somepony and asking them to pretend to be her sounded too sketchy. Not to mention that she had no way of knowing if the pony would take off immediately after she left and was unable to monitor them. She wanted someone honest, but not too honest. And someone who wouldn’t notice a little magical nudge to do what she wanted.
And who wouldn’t immediately run off to the Guard to report a possible crime.
She had taken to roaming the streets during lunch and after leaving the hospital in the evenings. Manehattan was big enough that it supported an all-day and all-night working population, so there was always someone on the streets hurrying somewhere or lazing about. This time she was near the railway station when she heard somepony sobbing.
She slowly made her way closer and found a young mare sitting against a wall, crying. As soon as she came into view, the mare rubbed her eyes and tried to straighten up. It was a unicorn mare with a saffron coat and two-tone blue-green mane and tail. She looked barely old enough to be on her own.
She was wearing well-worn saddlebags that were rather tightly stretched. Bright Star had to wonder if the mare had everything she owned in them.
“What’s wrong?” Bright Star asked softly, stopping nearby. It wouldn’t hurt to add another alibi, if she could.
The mare took a deep breath. “I just got here. I thought I had enough bits, but everything is soo expensive!” She looked down and even in the poor light here, Bright Star could see her blushing. “I thought I had saved enough, but I can’t afford a hotel for more than a night or two. And if I do get a room for more than a night, I won’t have enough to get back home. And I doubt I’ll find gainful employment in just two days.”
Or, at least, employment that she would want. Bright Star smiled encouragingly. “Maybe I can help.”
Minutes later, the older unicorn watched as the younger one, Sunset Joy, quickly finished off a burger, fries, and milk shake. The mare came from a small farming village to the north. She wanted to see the city and seek her fortune, as she thought the farming village too dull and stifling. And she didn’t really like any of the stallions, there.
A few subtle spells from Bright Star and she knew she had found her mark in Sunset Joy. By the time the restaurant was closing, the two ponies had come to an agreement.
Breezy Dancer — for that was the name Bright Star gave the young mare — was doing a good deed for an old friend. Her friend’s aunt, Ember Glow, was passing on, and the friend, Starry Glow, couldn’t be here for the last days of the beloved aunt. But she couldn’t just leave her alone — how cruel would that be? So Breezy Dancer was filling in for her, and had used a colour-change spell to make the old mare think it was family waiting with her. A little lie that hurt no pony and brought comfort to an aged mare.
But now, Breezy Dancer had her own unexpected emergency, and had to go. Which made this accidental meeting perfect! If the young mare didn’t mind spending eight hours with a sleeping mare during the day, in the hospital, Breezy Dancer would be more than happy to let her use her hotel room until the prepaid time ran out in three weeks — and she wouldn’t have to pay Breezy back at all.
In addition, Starry Glow had given her a stipend so she wouldn’t be out any of her own expenses while she was in Manehattan. A stipend Breezy Dancer was more than willing to give to the young mare.
Thus Breezy Dancer could take care of her emergency and Sunset Joy would have three weeks to search for a more permanent place of her own and a job. Both of which she could do before and after visiting hours at the hospital. And if she didn’t find anything, she would have enough bits left to return her to home safely. She could consider the whole thing just a vacation to the big city!
Which is what Bright Star told her she should say to save embarrassment if she did have to return home. That would prevent the gossips at home from saying she was a failure or had given up too easily. Gossips who had never tried to live in the big city themselves, and thus knew everything there was to living in Manehattan.
Sunset Joy would start tomorrow morning pretending to be Bright Star, after some instruction from Breezy Dancer on how to fake Bright Star’s cutie mark. The younger mare didn’t understand the need for the subterfuge, but another subtle spell convinced her not to question things — she was just so happy not to have to return home immediately that she didn’t object any further.
And she would bring plenty of reading material in the form of newspapers and books about the city, so she wouldn’t be bored! And to help her job hunt.
After watching invisibly for most of the next morning, and using subtle pushes of magic, everything was going exactly the way Bright Star wanted. The loyalty spell ensured that Sunset Joy would stay on script, and the bits ensured she had an incentive for doing so.
Plus, the letters Bright Star had left with the lawyer would go out on schedule for the next several weeks.
And the old mare had company until she passed on.
Everypony comes out ahead, she thought as she briskly set out of the hospital and for a secluded spot from which to teleport.
It took only a few hours for Bright Star to teleport back to Ponyville. She had to be careful where she teleported from and to, of course, and changed her disguise each time. Silencing spells were quickly becoming one of her favourites. She didn’t want to leave an obvious trail.
Once on the outskirts of Ponyville, she went into the Portal Building. She waited until after the two Guards had cast the changeling spell and were casting an illusion-revealing spell. Then she hit them with a confundus charm. She told them she was just a curious citizen and that she was now leaving.
Then she teleported into her old room to rest. She was nearly exhausted from the travel, despite the rest periods she had taken. Being sneaky was tiring, especially mentally.
Very early the next morning, she once more headed for the Portal. She arrived just before the portal shift change was scheduled.
When the third shift was most tired, and eagerly anticipating their replacements, she went through. A bit of sleight of hoof had allowed her to look as if she was filling out the correct paperwork for a transfer through the portal. There were too many guards watching from too many places to attempt to use magic to sneak through undetected.
The guards would, of course, remember seeing her cutie mark — no way to avoid that. If anypony asked if Bright Star had been through, they would remember her.
But with the eyewitnesses in Manehattan insisting that she had been there, and not here, on this day, would throw doubt on the accuracy of the Guards’ recollections. Plus, the personally written letters from Manehattan still arriving weeks after this would further cloud the issue. And without proper paperwork . . . well, no pony important would realize she was on the other side of the portal. Everyone involved would assume they misremembered.
When they did start to question where she was, in a month, her trail would be old and cold. It would be even longer before they investigated.
Tracking her to the hospital would be easy. Then they would waste a tremendous amount of effort tracking her connection to Ember Glow. An impossible task, given they were strangers. It would leave them running in circles.
But the trackers would never believe that.
Finding Sunset Joy would be impossible. All the hotel would know was that Bright Star checked out on a certain day three weeks after the guards said she had been at the portal. And then completely disappeared.
But the letters would continue to arrive with fake stories of things she was doing for another three weeks.
They would be soo befuddled! She had to giggle at the thought of them wasting soo much time, and never even suspecting the truth. All because Bright Star didn’t exist. And never had, outside of this very facility, and a hospital and hotel room in Manehattan.
Once through the portal, and in the changing room, she cast a very mild don’t-see-me on herself. Then she glamoured herself to look different. No one except selected guards on duty would be able to say they had seen her in her human form on this side, further discrediting the testimony of the guards on the other side.
Thus it was that an unknown witch teleported into Diagon Alley and went into the Leaky Cauldron restroom. Anne Bourchier walked out a few moments later and headed for her apartment, confident that all her plans were proceeding perfectly.
After visiting her apartment and ensuring that everything was as it should be, she went to Gringotts and sold them two small gems. She wanted them happy to see her. Or, at least, as happy as goblins ever were to see a wizard or witch.
She also needed them to find her a more permanent home. One suitable for the future major player she intended to be in the wizarding world.
And this time Miss Prissy Prying Perfect Princess Twilight Sparkle would not get to interfere. Nor would her meddling friends.
They were, after all, in another dimension entirely.
۸-_-۸
The twins did their best to convince everyone that they had been to Atlantis, with exaggerated stories of their adventures in the forest and at the Sister’s Castle. Having Myrtle supply pictures that seemed to back up their claims was merely icing on the cake.
And Harry now had a new set of rumours to contend with. Having proof that he lived in a castle — and a beautiful, shiny castle it was, too — spurred on the rumour mongers. The group’s encounter with the timber-wolves, the ball in Canterlot, and the collateral-damage results in Ponyville of the fillies in their never-ending quest for cutie marks didn’t help him. Harry was unable to combat the rumours — the truth was nearly as outrageous as the books he previously had decried.
It simply wasn’t fair! The Weasleys and Myrtle had apparently been mining the Ponyville residents for juicy titbits when he and the fillies were elsewhere! The twins wanted the stories for blackmail purposes, and Myrtle for the juicy gossip.
One evening, a Hufflepuff came up to him as dinner hour was finishing up. She shyly plopped a home-made book on the table and looked at Harry. “Would you please sign this?” she asked quietly, after clearing her throat several times.
Curious, he glanced at the title — Harry Potter and the Relaxing Summer. His eyes shot wide open in shock and he gasped. The others looked over interestedly. He opened the book to the list of contents. He paled. He flipped rapidly through the pages.
To his horror, he saw that a conscientious listener had collected some of his and the fillies’ adventures in Equestria and written it all down — in third-person narrative, with occasional foreshadowing. And then used Myrtle’s pictures of Ponyville and the Everfree Forest to help illustrate it.
He began to hyperventilate. “What’s . . . what’s this!” he exclaimed.
The fillies crowded close, looking over his shoulder, as did Hermione and Ginny. Sweetie Belle gasped and grabbed the book from his hands. She flipped through it, and stopped occasionally to read. Harry stared at the book, and then at the worried Hufflepuff, speechless. Then Sweetie giggled and read aloud, “Unfortunately, Harry didn’t notice the queen bee clinging to his mane. Nor the swarm that followed him — and only him — to the townhouse. Mayor Mare was NOT pleased.”
She burst out laughing. “Remember that Bloom?”
The Hufflepuff smiled happily at hearing that one of the actual participants agreed that the story was true.
Scootaloo giggled. She pulled out a quill and demanded, “Here, gimme that. We’ll all sign it!”
The Hufflepuff practically glowed as she walked away with her personally signed book. Signed not only by her hero, but his girlfriends — no his herd-friends, as Myrtle had told them — from Atlantis as well.
And Hermione was headed for the Ravenclaw who had made it to get seven more copies. And to arrange a royalty schedule from this entrepreneur who was now selling the books to anyone interested.
At least this time the stories printed were authorized and he was getting his fair share, she pointed out to Harry later. And then ignored his grumbling as she gave each of them the sickles the books had earned for them so far.
۸-~-۸
Now that the books were spreading through the school, Cutie marks suddenly became the topic of conversation and speculation. Previously just a mere curiosity for the students that had even heard about them, they had a new significance. Especially after Myrtle’s pictures proved that nearly every pony had one. And that the descriptions of the jobs performed by the various ponies they had met neatly tied the marks into reality.
Cutie marks really did tell you your special talent. Although sometimes the mark was ambiguous and it was up to you to figure out what it meant. Having the mark appear while you did something appropriate to the mark, however, was a big clue. Although it could be mistaken for something else.
As the outlaw Troubleshoes Clyde had found out the previous summer when he returned to the Appleoosa rodeo. With the Crusaders’ assistance, he had discovered that his “bad luck” was because he was supposed to be a comedian who specialized in physical comedy and clowning around. The “bad luck” was actually his talent at making others laugh. This was, of course, one of the stories in That Book, as Harry referred to it.
Which the fillies always talked him into signing when asked. The smug looks they had, and the overheard rumour that another book was in the offering with the further exploits of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, left him more than a bit disturbed. He noticed that sometimes the three fillies would disappear into their dorm for a while, then return, giggling, and refuse to tell him what they had been doing, except to say, “witch stuff.” It was all very suspicious.
The cutie marks were a revelation that made the other students either envious or contemptuous.
Of course, this sudden interest in cutie marks meant . . . , “I knew you were all losers,” Malfoy muttered as he walked past them to class, “. . . blank-flanks.” His boyfriends and Parkinson were with him, and laughed.
Harry sighed as the fillies turned to face the bully. Hermione and Ginny held back a distance and looked around. They didn’t want anyone to prank them while they were distracted.
Draco had discovered a new insult, it seemed, even if it wasn’t appropriate to humans.
The green-eyed boy looked at the other boy calmly. “You’re just jealous,” he said, before any of the girls could start in. “You can’t get a cutie mark, so you’ll never know your specialty in magic. You’ll always just stumble through life, wondering what it is that you are good at. You’ll always wonder if what you end up doing is really your destiny. You might never find the thing that will make you happiest.”
Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and the Slytherins stopped.
“Meanwhile, my girlfriends, here,” he glanced at the three fillies who started to look embarrassed, “will find their cutie marks and know just what it is that they can do with their magic that will make them happiest in their lives. It might not be today, or tomorrow, or next month. Or, maybe, next year. But they will get it.”
He smiled a bit maliciously, “But you, you will always wonder at your lot in life.” He nodded sideways, to get the others to move, and started towards their next class. “And you should be very careful who you insult,” he called back. “You don’t know just who might be listening in and decide that a little disorder is needed.”
The fillies and Weasleys gave him a startled look, then smirked at the inside joke. If Malfoy attracted the attention of Discord, who knew what might happen?
The Slytherins just looked puzzled and discomfited that their insult had so easily been deflected back at them.
۸-_-۸
Oliver was working the Quidditch team harder than ever. Everyone was complaining. He was especially unhappy with the way the twins were not taking the training seriously. The training came to a dead stop when he yelled, “Snape’s refereeing this time!”
The entire team was taken aback at the revelation, and complained vociferously.
It was especially worrying to Harry and the other Firsties.
Snape’s dislike for the boy was evident to anyone who was in the First Year Potions class. And that was despite Sweetie Belle’s mishaps in class, including giving girls deep voices one week and boys high-pitched chipmunk voices the next in their two classes since term started. No one could understand why he hadn’t banned her from the dungeons!
And Harry couldn’t imagine Madam Hooch was too pleased with that decision, either, given his lack of training in Quidditch and its rules.
They were discussing how they might be able to deflect Professor Snape’s ire at Harry during the game when Neville hopped into the Common Room, falling as he did so. Hermione leapt up and cast the leg-Locker counter-curse while the rest of them laughed.
That Malfoy was responsible was not a surprise. That Neville refused to report him was only slightly less so. Harry gave him his last Chocolate Frog as consolation.
Neville handed him back the Wizard’s card it contained. He already had that one.
Harry noted, with minor interest that it was a Dumbledore card, again. Also an extra for him. He handed it to Hermione.
She looked at it with a soft smile, and flipped it over. She frowned, then slowly said, “It says Dumbledore is famous not only for the defeat of Grindlewald, but is also the discoverer of the twelve uses of dragons blood. His work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel, is also of note.”
Hermione looked up at them. “Flamel? Where do I know that name from?” She frowned heavily staring at the card. “And why do I think it might be important?” She turned and headed up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories, mumbling to herself.
Harry shrugged and the group once more turned to the problem of Professor Snape.
Hermione returned with an enormous old book in her arms, her finger marking her place in it. “Look, look,” she said and pointed to an entry as she explained how, “The Philosopher’s Stone was the goal of alchemy. It can transform any metal into pure gold, and can make the drinker immortal with the Elixir of Life!”
“Mr. Nicolas Flamel is the only creator of a Philosopher’s Stone, and recently celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday. He lives in Devon with his wife, Perenelle who is six hundred and fifty-eight.”
They looked at her blankly.
She rolled her eyes and huffed.
“See here?” she said, pointing into the book. “They live in Devon. Here. In England. Where do you think they would keep something as valuable as the Philosopher’s Stone? In their sock drawer?” She snorted. “No, it’d be Gringotts’, right?”
They stared at her.
“Look, Hagrid is keeping a clipping about someone who tried to steal from Gringotts — supposedly the safest place in the world to put valuables. You all saw that, right?” They reluctantly nodded. She shifted into lecture mode. “And if you heard someone was going to rob Gringotts, where you had your ultra-valuable stone — that you needed to stay alive! — you’d move the stone, wouldn’t you?” She continued on, ignoring their disbelieving looks at where she was going. “And Hogwarts is the only place safer than Gringotts, or so we’ve been told. And I saw Hagrid at Gringotts when we went to Diagon Alley,” she said, glancing at Harry and the fillies. “Which just so happens to be the same day that someone tried to rob Gringotts, according to the clipping. Because the bank wasn’t in an uproar when Harry was there, the break-in had to happen later. And then the thief didn’t succeed — the article said the vault was empty — which means it had already been moved.” She gave them a triumphant look. “I think that’s why Hagrid was there. He was being very secretive, wasn’t he?” She again looked at Harry and the three Equestrians.
Ron sighed. “You’re barmy.”
Several of the others nodded.
Hermione huffed. “Well, if you had the Philosopher’s Stone and wanted to keep it safe, safer even than Gringotts, where would you keep it?”
They looked at her blankly.
“Hogwarts, of course.” Hermione continued. “We saw a trap door under Fluffy in that room at the beginning of the term, didn’t we? And Cerberuses are known as fierce guard dogs, aren’t they? And Hagrid takes care of Fluffy, doesn’t he? Clearly, they are all connected.”
More blank looks. Or actually, looks that said they didn’t understand why she was going on about this.
“Look, this has been bothering me since we first saw that Cerberus — what could be soo valuable that the Headmaster needed more than just a few magical protections?” She looked at them a bit desperately.
Ron half-whispered to Dean, “I think she’s lost the plot.”
Hermione looked offended at his not so quiet declaration,
The fillies perked up.
“A mystery?” said Scootaloo.
A creepy grin began to spread across their faces.
Harry sighed.
“So, you think,” Sweetie Belle said slowly, barely hidden delight in her voice, “That the Headmaster is hiding the Flamels’ Philosopher’s Stone in a chamber underneath the Cerberus, Fluffy?”
Hermione nodded happily. “It all fits.”
Sweetie Belle, nodded slowly. “We need to meet with Hagrid, to see what we can learn.”
Hermione said, “I’ll send a note asking if we can come over on Friday for tea.”
The fillies nodded.
Scootaloo rubbed her hands together, “This is going to be so much fun!”
“All that from a name on a wizard’s card?” Neville shook his head dazedly. “What has any of that to do with Snape . . . ,”
“Professor Snape,” corrected Hermione.
“. . . Professor Snape,” continued the chubby boy, “being the referee at our next Quidditch game? And why are you bringing it up now? Besides, if it’s so important I’m sure the professors are well equipped to handle it.”
Hermione blushed as the other Firsties all nodded.
“Well, I’m sure they are,” she said, “but just think, the Philosopher’s Stone could be right here!” She looked at them all. “Doesn’t that make you excited?” She smiled, “Besides, we’ve got six weeks to the game. Plenty of time.”
But Harry saw the three fillies exchange looks. He sighed. This was not over, he knew.
۸-~-۸