Starlight Glimmer, now known as Anne Bourchier, looked out the window of her apartment into the miserable weather that was England in February. Tom B. Sotted, the bartender at the Leaky Cauldron, had confided that it was a very mild and dry month. The temperature, however, barely reached fifty degrees Fahrenheit, ten degrees Centigrade — how weird was it that the wizards used the same scale as the Equestrians, but not the non-magicals? — during the days, and there had been several night frosts.
It was nothing like the frigid-cold temperatures of upper Equestria, where the winter months meant deep snows and temperatures rarely rose above freezing. And it was decidedly warmer than the cave she had had to retreat to, to escape Princess Sparkle’s unreasonable persecution after destroying her Town. So, the miserableness of it was merely a matter of interpretation, for her. She found it rather mild, herself.
On the other hoof, without a fur coat, these humans were very susceptible to the cold, she had discovered. She probably would have really disliked it more if she couldn’t cast powerful and long-lasting warming charms when she ventured outside. If the bad weather lasted much longer, she was going to put a few runes in her coat that would save her the trouble of casting warming charms when it was uncomfortably cold.
She sighed. She did miss her Town. And she was bored after the excitement of the previous weeks.
“Cleaning” Sirius Black’s home had been a challenge, and interesting. The spells she had discovered on many of the items had been intriguing and scary. Only an insane pony would have enchanted such vicious curses on items foals — children, she reminded herself — might have been able to access. They also gave her a bit of insight into just how unlike ponies these humans were. She shuddered at the thought. Their casual approach to life and death was appalling.
But, then again, so was the attitude of Griffons and Dragons, also known meat-eaters. They tended to play with their food before consuming it, and treated law-breakers much harsher than simple imprisonment in dungeons. Death was a frequent punishment. She shuddered again.
In any case, even her pedestrian apartment in the Alley was preferable to that dump at Twelve Grimmauld Place.
His home was dark and dank, almost like a cave, considering the great amounts of dust and mildew that covered everything. Why he continued to stay there left her bemused. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t afford anywhere else. Even an open field would be preferable. At least, that would have been her preference.
The spells on it, however, were quite impressive. Sirius had told her it was unplottable, which she had tested at her apartment. Sure enough, even though she knew where the house was after being led there, she couldn’t find it on a map. Every time she tried, she ended up looking somewhere else on the map other than where she knew it had to be.
There was a muggle-repelling charm on it, too. That one she felt as she crossed its surface. A useless spell in Equestria, but quite important to wizards. He warned her of the offensive and defensive magic’s, many were intent based. Without his presence letting her past the charms, she would have been blasted across the street. No warnings, just, boom! And waking up in a park.
And if she tried to force her way through them? Not a good idea. Not at all.
She had spent almost half-an hour just admiring how they all interacted, to his amusement. And tracing how they worked. By the end of the third day, she could recreate any of them. Although she could not ever imagine using the inside-out-charm on anything living. That was just needless cruelty. Just the sort of thing an insane Griffon or Dragon might like. Not that they would be able to cast that kind of magic, thank Faust!
The house-elf, Kreacher, was despicable. He was, by her standards, lazy, argumentative, and unpleasant both to speak to and to see. His trustworthiness, as Sirius had readily admitted, was definitely on the shady side. The only reason he hadn’t been dismissed, as Sirius had explained, was, “. . . he knows far too many secrets. Any of the Black Family’s many enemies would be delighted to get their hands on him.” So, Sirius kept him and made them both miserable.
The house-elf had made the mistake of calling her a muggle-born at their first meeting in the kitchen.
Sirius had turned red in anger, “Kreacher!” he had yelled.
Before he could say anything further, she had interrupted him. From the books she had read, she knew what the house-elf had meant.
“Sirius, let me handle this,” she had said calmly. “Kreacher,” she said, addressing the house-elf, hands on her hips. “I understand that you have been with the Black family for generations, as were your parents.” Her tone had turned cold. “Sirius has warned me that you considered the Black family to be the epitome of a magical Family, with a history that goes back at least five hundred years. However, you know nothing about me. You are not as intelligent as you think, or you would know better than to make assumptions about me based solely on the company I keep, or the manners in which I dress and speak.”
She hadn’t quite glared at him. She might not be in Equestria, anymore, but she was proud of her family — even if she did have disagreements with her parents. “My parents were magical, as were their parents. And their parents, and their parents. And that situation is true for the last thousand years. Do you understand?” She had tilted her head slightly.
Sirius had stared at her. He knew she had recently arrived in England. He had apparently assumed that meant she wasn’t a pure-blood by his standards.
Kreacher had screwed his face up in anger, and mumbled something. The only word she had understood was “blood-traitor.” Again, she had known what he had meant. She had read about it in the history books she had purchased several months ago.
She didn’t support the notion that some ponies, people, were preferred to others simply because of their political beliefs and the magic they used. Ponies, people, were all equal, that was what was important, not how one used their magic. Unfortunately, there were unicorns that felt differently than her. Mostly in Canterlot.
Oh, she knew there were magical spells and artefacts that would corrupt a pony, person. Terrible things that would turn a pony into something that was the exact opposite of what they had wanted to accomplish, such as the infamous Alicorn Amulet. She wanted nothing to do with things like those.
However, to ignore somepony for the sin of using their magic differently? That was absurd! A unicorn disregarded a pegasus or earth-pony at their own risk, as any guard in the EUP forces could attest! And the reverse was true, too. They all expressed their magic differently, but all were just as effective in their tribes.
Plus, here, there were no cutie marks to divide friendships. Who cared what magic they cast? As long as it didn’t hurt anypony, it didn’t matter. And if they did hurt somepony, they should be punished for their crimes. Regardless of their societal position or desires. No one should be above the law, in her opinion. It was how she had run her Town. And everyone had been happy until Miss Privileged Princess, and her meddling friends, had ruined everything.
She had rolled her eyes. “As if that word means anything to me,” she had said. “It has as little meaning to me as pure-blood. It all bleeds red, regardless.”
There had been silence for a moment.
Sirius had finally said, “Shut up, Kreacher. Clean the bathrooms.” Kreacher had left via the elf-version of teleporting. More direct, better safe-guards, but still not as safe as teleportation, she had noticed.
After a moment, he had said, “You didn’t mention that you’re a pure-blood,” accusingly.
She had looked at him. “Then you should have asked. Should I leave?” She arched an eyebrow.
He had coloured, then said, “No, stay, I still need help in cleaning the house.” He had paused. “You just don’t act like a pure-blood, that’s all.” He had given her an evaluating look, as if he were trying to see her secrets.
“It was never important at home. And it shouldn’t be, here. Only how hard you worked mattered, there.”
He had slowly nodded. Then he grinned. “Well, if you can trace your roots back a thousand years as a magical, then that means my family is a bunch of Johnny-come-latelies, doesn’t it? Mother would be practically beside herself at meeting such a distinguished personage as yourself, wouldn’t she?” He had chuckled.
She had snorted. “Right,” she had said drily. “Where do we start?”
Kreacher had kept out of her way, after that. And while he mumbled when he did see her, he had made sure she couldn’t exactly hear what he said. That he hadn’t been bothering her was just fine, as far as she had been concerned. If he left her alone, she would leave him alone. As long as he didn’t insult her to her face, she wouldn’t complain.
She had never worried about his cooking. That was because she had always ordered take-out lunches and dinners, and sealed them, before teleporting to Number Twelve each morning.
Dipping into her account was never a problem, as Sirius made it a point to pay her at the end of each day.
She hadn’t needed the money, but it was the principle. She didn’t work for free. Nobody should. That the house-elves did, bothered her a bit. But, then, they were a totally different race. And she knew from Equestria that you shouldn’t project your expectations of manners, attitude, and work ethic on other creatures. That would always get you in trouble.
He had started flirting with her almost immediately. And while it was nice that he thought her attractive, the idea of dating was as far from her plans as possible, at this stage. And he was human, not a pony. Their faces were just so . . . flat. And their range of expressions was so . . . limited.
Still, she had flirted back. They had both enjoyed the light-hearted bantering between them while dealing with the dangerous crap that was in his home. And they had gone to several restaurants for dinner, after work, both wizardkind and not.
It had been oddly enjoyable.
When he told her he was going to be visiting Equestria with Princess Sparkle so he could visit his god-son, Harry Potter, she had almost panicked. But then she realized that she wasn’t in any danger. There were no connections between Anne Bourchier, Bright Star, and Starlight Glimmer for any pony to find. And, if things were going as planned, no pony would even begin to suspect to look for Bright Star for several more weeks.
And she most certainly wasn’t about to reveal her unicorn form any time soon.
Thus it was that she found herself at loose ends for a week. Sirius had graciously allowed her to borrow a few books from the family library, after checking them for family curses, first. The books she had, he had deemed suitably innocuous to be allowed out of the house.
The first book had been on politics in wizarding England over the last three hundred years — up until 1920, that is, when it was published. Another, Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, had been on the so-called pure-blood families, and their histories for the last two hundred years. It was rather surprising how frequently the two intersected.
What was especially interesting were the notes in the margins that previous Heads of the House Black had written, Those were most informative and revealed the reasons and jealousies that had driven some of the historical events. And not a few items that had been used for blackmail purposes.
If they weren’t so set on this ridiculous pure-blood ideology, half the blackmail material would have been useless.
It would all be so silly, if it weren’t so deadly.
Wizards and witches could be just as petty as school-foals, she decided, only they tended to do more than merely hurt a pony’s feelings or chase them out of town. These . . . people . . . settled their differences with nasty spells and duels that actually killed their opponents instead of shaming them or chasing them out of town. No wonder the number of pure-blood families had dropped to a mere twenty-eight over the last three hundred years!
And while Starlight wanted to hurt Princess Sparkle, she didn’t want her dead. No, she wanted her to suffer, as Starlight had suffered when the Princess had lied to her friends, and persuaded them to abandon her without reason. They had actually chased her out of the town she had started! It made her blood boil in anger at the memory.
But kill her? No, definitely not. Humiliation that lasted for years was so much more satisfying.
The third book had been on enchantments, which had required she buy a set of four books on rune-craft from the bookstore.
Plus, after seven days of only leaving her room to acquire fresh food so she didn’t have to waste time making her own, she was looking forward to Sirius’ return the day after tomorrow.
Now with a much better understanding of the political backgrounds, she only needed a few more-modern books to get a solid understanding of the current political climate. And she was sure Sirius would be happy to regale her with his family’s participation in the important events that had occurred since those books had been published. His insights, even ten years out of date, would be invaluable in determining the real players in politics today.
Then, Sirius could begin introducing her to the current movers and shakers that would allow her to move her agenda forward.
It was so much easier to get things done properly when ponies had their own reasons to follow her plans. Enlightened self-interest was a much better motivator than coercion. Or merely convincing someone to do something.
If they had something to gain or protect, they were far more likely to do what was needed without her doing anything more than making a suggestion or two. And then they would think it their idea, if she were subtle enough.
۸-_-۸
Elly balanced carefully on the rafter as she examined the area around the ceiling where it joined the wall. Below her, easily ten yards, was the nearly empty Great Hall. The ceiling above her, as well as the rafter she stood on, displayed the night sky outside. She had a very effective camouflage of a shadow against the night. All she had to do was avoid crossing in front of the moon — it was only two days past full, after all.
She had expected it to be difficult for her to see the rafters, but their tops were unaffected by the charms. It made sense. From this angle, such a spell would be silly. All it would show would be the tables and floor below. It would look like she was walking on thin air.
And probably would have confused the owls to no end. She could imagine an owl crashing into a rafter because, by displaying the floor below, it would be effectively invisible. So, better to leave it as uncharmed wood.
Of course, that it also happened to help hide her from view below was a bonus.
Thankfully, the house-elves took care to eliminate any spider-webs, cobwebs, feathers, and dust that might accumulate up here — wouldn’t want any of that falling down into the food! That meant she didn’t have to worry about the cascades of dust that would mark where she was walking. It did mean she couldn’t just leave the jars in the corners, she had to hide them inside something that wouldn’t be moved or opened by the elves.
She turned, about to jump to the next rafter, when she heard two Slytherin students below her. “. . . Chamber is huge!” one said, “No wonder it took them so long to canvass it.”
The acoustics up here were phenomenal.
The other sighed. “Yeah,” he said, “Too bad, too. There’s no way they didn’t find everything there was to find down there. It would have been fun searching for hidden rooms and holes. But, they know much more sophisticated spells than we do, so it would be a waste of our time.”
She paused. The Chamber of Secrets. She had avoided that place, so far. But they were right. The professors and other professionals, had already thoroughly explored it, and marked every hiding place. Which meant there had to be out-of-the-way places she could use. She wouldn’t have to worry about curious and exploring students finding her jars, because the students already knew there was nothing there or it already would have been found! And the professors had checked, so they, too, knew there was nothing to find.
What better place to hide something than somewhere people had already looked and found nothing?
She quickly made her way back to the access door at the back of the hall and slipped into the hidden tunnel that led to the floor.
۸-_-۸
Elly skipped happily across the Hogwarts lawn, heading for the castle. Success! And on the last day, too. The train from London should be here in less than an hour! She had spent all of yesterday carefully scouting the main Chamber and the rooms attached to it. There were just so many possibilities!
She had finally decided that she needed a place she could access, but not too easily or someone might find it by accident. So, this afternoon, she finally had decided on two hiding spots. One was inside the outer-chamber, not far from the slide that led from the bathrooms above in the school. An indentation was there, left by a brick — one the size of her head — that had fallen out. Two jars were there, behind a carefully-built façade of the brick that blended in perfectly. A symbol traced in one corner of a brick at floor level marked the location.
The other location was under the model of the snake they had erected in the chamber. For that one, she had had to excavate a small hole. It held two more jars. Both places were lined inside with waterproof green-resin, and spelled with runes into stasis. They would always be ready should any ling be in need in an emergency.
Again, the mark for the location was on a nearby brick. Any ling would easily find the stash after minimal effort.
Now all she had to do was leave instructions in key spots in the castle that she knew an infiltrator would routinely check. That way if any ling besides her ever came here, they wouldn’t be without resources.
And she was sure she would have a full set of jars to take to her home by the time summer arrived. She wouldn’t have to worry about scrimping for the summer hols.
If only there were another ling around, then she wouldn’t feel so lonely.
She wondered if it would be possible to sneak back across the portal and look for other lings. If she took along most of her jars, she wouldn’t have to risk exposure needing to acquire food.
But then she remembered the spell the Guards were using to detect lings. And she was sure they were a lot more careful, now, about keeping the portal isolated. Her first trip through had alerted them to a problem. Getting back would be a real effort. She slowed to a walk. No, that wouldn’t be a good plan. She would just have to tough it out — she was the last ling there, and the only ling here.
Until she started a hive. Could she start a hive? She wasn’t sure how to do that. Or even if it was possible. What little she remembered from the old hive-mind seemed to indicate it might, might, be possible.
She shook her head, trying to throw off the depressing thoughts. While there weren’t any lings around, she did have friends.
She now had a home . The goblins promised it would be ready for her to move into the week before school let out. She would have a busy summer preparing it for her permanent residence.
They had also gotten her several leads on setting up a restaurant. She had already rejected one as too close to the new Equestrian Magical Embassy Station in Diagon Alley. Too close as-in right beside it. Even though it was just a door and room, with a secretary and attached floo, she didn’t want to take chances. She was leaning very heavily towards one of two places in Hogsmeade, on High Street.
The one across from the Three Broomsticks had the advantage of being close to another floo. And being between Honeydukes and Zonko’s Joke Shop wouldn’t hurt business. The other was on a corner across from Scrivenshaft’s on High Street. Across the other street on the opposite corner was the Owl Post Office. That one looked more promising, even if the Hogs Head was farther down that narrow street. The place was already roomy, before one even started using expansion charms. It was also cheaper. She had to wonder, though, if the Hogs Head was that disrespectable. If so, she wouldn’t want to be located too close to it.
Its other disadvantage was that it was much closer to the Hogsmeade Equestrian Embassy Station. By about half the distance. Again, the station was only a room with a secretary and floo, but . . . .
Well, she had plenty of time to decide.
There was no hurry on that project.
Plus, absolutely no one suspected that she wasn’t who and what she said she was. And there were no tracks to lead to her, either. As an infiltration, it was a perfect role. Her only downfall would be if she made a mistake and gave herself away.
She didn’t plan to make any mistakes. She did plan to avoid the Headmaster and his Deputy as much as possible. And not do anything that possibly could draw attention to herself.
No sense in courting disaster.
۸-_-۸
Once back in Hogwarts, Harry began to obsess about the upcoming Quidditch match. It was only a week away, so Wood was really pressing them in the practices, which were now every afternoon before dinner. Which Harry actually appreciated. When he was in practice, he was too busy to worry directly about the game. Unlike his classes, eating, and studying, where he couldn’t keep his mind on the subject at hand. The worst was when he was trying to fall asleep.
Harry didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Could Snape be stalking him? It didn’t make sense. Yet, there the wizard was, everywhere Harry was. Staring malevolently at him.
Harry sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.
Fortunately, the girls were always with him. And they were watching his back.
He was almost sick with worry the day of the match. Nothing his friends could do cheered him up. When they told him they all intended to have their wands ready to react the moment anything happened, that only momentarily helped. Soon, he was right back to worrying his lip and staring blindly into space until one or another of the girls elbowed him lightly to get his attention.
Inevitably, he ended up wondering if Snape was going to curse him again.
To his intense relief, in the Quidditch locker room as he steeled himself up to get out on the pitch, he heard Fred Weasley cry out, as he peered outside, “Blimey — the Headmaster’s out there!”
Harry almost collapsed in relief.
Harry laughed out loud. He was safe — no way would Snape dare to do anything!
Snape looked furious that his plans had been thwarted, as the teams marched onto the field.
It was one of the shortest games in Hogwarts’ history. Everyone was amazed and surprised. The Hufflepuffs hadn’t even been mad about losing, they were so astonished. Even Professor Snape giving the Gryffindors unfair penalties hadn’t been able to make a difference, with a game that short.
The Gryffindor party was in full swing by the time he arrived after showering. Scootaloo and Ginny decided that, in view of the nice weather outside — that is, it wasn’t raining —they wanted to fly. It was still daylight and the tension they had lived with for days was gone. The two hurried out the door, already changing to ponies and galloping down the corridor.
Harry shook his head and turned back to the pumpkin juice punch, which he was sure he had seen the twins add something to earlier. He grabbed one of the butterbeer bottles instead. He also took another slice of cake. That, at least, the elves wouldn’t have let anyone tamper with while they were cooking.
۸-_-۸