“The Weasleys are over there,” Malfoy points, as Bonbon skids to a halt next to him on the front steps of the castle.
“That doesn’t matter, where’s the broom?” Bonbon asks, glancing around quickly.
“The broom?” he asks. “Wouldn’t…?”
“The broom is the anchor for the Spoonata. Take it out, the whole thing comes apart- quietly. But the longer it stays active, the more destruction can happen.”
“Got it.” He starts searching the air.
“When you see it, don’t use magic on it. That’ll only make it stronger. Instead, get me. I can take it out.”
A panicked scream echoes from around the corner of the castle.
Bonbon turns, but doesn’t bolt.
Malfoy, eyes closed, draws in a breath and concentrates.
Right at the last second, Bonbon’s hand closes on his wrist.
Everything blinks blue, and they’re on that side of the castle.
“Aah!” Malfoy utters softly, pulling away.
“Sorry,” Bonbon mutters. “Piggybacking the teleport.” She scowls; the broom is high in the air. “Think you could teleport me up to it?”
He glances at her, then looks up at it. “Eh,” he mutters. “I can ballpark it, but…”
“That’ll have to be enough,” Bonbon states. “It’s getting ready for another blast, and this one’ll start toppling structures.”
“Got it. What do you need to, ah, piggyback?”
“Physical contact should be enough- doesn’t have to be a grip.”
“Alright. Ready.”
She touches the back of his fist with the back of her own, closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. “Ready.”
He blinks. Everything momentarily turns blue.
Bonbon twists suddenly and violently in midair, unleashing an explosive blow on the broom.
Malfoy watches, as if in slow motion, as her blow takes the center out of the broom, shattering the entire handle.
Then, it explodes.
He’s not sure exactly how to describe the explosion. Sure, there was some physical force to it- both he and Bonbon were thrown away from it, at differing angles- but most of the explosion, he sensed, more than felt or saw. Sensed in a way he’d never sensed anything before.
Bonbon hits the ground first, rolling expertly out of her fall and terminating the roll by driving a foot firmly into the ground.
Then he hits the ground, face-first. And bounces. Once, twice. Finally, he rolls to a stop and lets out a breath… then opens his eyes, lifting one hand to feel his nose.
It’s not broken.
Bonbon trots over to where Malfoy landed, offering her hand to help him up. “You land alright?”
He looks up at her. “How…?”
“Not hurt, right?”
He nods.
“That’d be the near indestructibility of your other form. That kind of thing does carry through.” She chuckles.
“Bonnie!” It’s Lyra, on the radio, while Malfoy is still thinking. “Did you have to destroy it?”
She sighs, raising her hand to her walkie. “Agent Drops, proposing removal of Agent Stripes as mission leader.”
“Agent Star, seconded,” comes back instantly, in Moondancer’s voice.
“S-sorry.” That’d be Lyra again.
“Something wrong?” Malfoy asks, as she helps him to his feet.
“Just a little infighting,” Bonbon states. “I think Lyra’s taken things too far one time too many.”
“One time too many?”
She nods. “One time too many.”
“Make it so,” Princess Luna’s voice comes over the line, sounding tired. She doesn’t normally wear her radio, being ‘on vacation’ here at Hogwarts- but she is the supreme head of the Royal Equestrian Secret Service. She’s probably borrowing Cherry’s radio; she hasn’t heard Agent Skyhawk since she reported the helicopter was on the ground. “Agent Stripes, you are relieved of command. Turn over the Staff Walkie to Agent Drops. Agent Drops, you’re now the mission leader.” The formal tone falls away. “Please don’t screw up.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t plan to,” she states into her mic.
Lyra appears, very suddenly, next to her. Malfoy jumps, but she’d expected it. “Bonnie! Did you have to?”
Bonbon tilts her head towards Lyra, raising one eyebrow. “What do you think?”
“It was the helicopter, wasn’t it?”
“Really?” Bonbon asks.
“What?”
“You think I’m worried about the helicopter?”
“What…?”
“No, no,” Bonbon states, grabbing Lyra’s shoulders with both hands. “The helicopter was nothing. The wards didn’t even notice it. Heck, it may even have been beneficial- wizards might just start realizing the truth about electricity around here. No, I’m talking about the Spoonata. Have you any clue how much paperwork I had to fill out after our test run flattened two towns? You know what the thirty-seventh one was?
“The Spoonata has been classified as a weapon of mass destruction, Lyra!” She pushes Lyra over, dropping her painfully on the grass. “I’m not sure if you noticed, with your attention to fun, but the entirety of Hogwarts staff is out here- and even I felt the ward activation as it approached the third blast! You can bet Dumbledore won’t be happy- and the Ministry of Magic might already be on its way!”
“Oh?” Lyra asks, hopping up. “Maybe-!”
“No!” Bonbon barks. “You’re staying here, and you’re going to own up to your mistake.” She pauses for a second, thinking. “And you’re going to do all the paperwork.”
“Whaaat? No, please, Bonnie! Not the paperwork!”
“Yes the paperwork, Lyra. You caused a first-class disaster all on your own, you can deal with the consequences on your own. And if you don’t get it done by tomorrow, I’ll send you home to have Celestia watch you do it.”
“What-! You can’t-!”
“I can. And I will. Now, go wait by the castle doors, Ministry or Hogwarts staff might want to talk to you. And no teleporting, or I’ll double the paperwork.”
Lyra pouts at her, before turning to march back towards the front steps- but Bonbon catches her arm, arresting her motion.
“What?” Lyra asks, looking back at her.
“Walkie?”
Lyra sighs. “Right.” A little flick of her hand, and the radio, mic, headset, and everything else slip out of her robes, into her hand, which she holds out to Bonbon. “Here.”
Bonbon accepts it wordlessly, letting her go, and slides the radio itself down into her robes, clipping it onto her belt as Lyra storms away. It takes her a couple seconds, after that, to connect the splitter to her headset; she’s to the point of clipping the mic to the front of her robes when Malfoy speaks up.
“Just a little?” he asks.
Bonbon nods. “Yeah, just a little. Seriously, that was nothing compared to some of the internal struggles I’ve seen in the RESS.”
“Ress?”
“Ah, RESS, yes. It’s an acronym, for the Royal Equestrian Secret Service.”
“So, paperwork, huh?”
Both Bonbon and Malfoy turn to face Professor Dumbledore, ambling towards them with one hand clamped on the opposing shoulder, the arm hanging limply by his side.
“Yes,” Bonbon nods. “Most vile invention of either of our worlds, but it’s the only way to get through to Lyra. Um, do you need some help getting to the hospital wing?”
“Ah,” Dumbledore hesitates, looking down at his arm. “Maybe. Though…” He glances back where he’d come. “I’m not sure where my wand disappeared to.”
Bonbon winces. “Caught in the blast?”
He nods. “The second one.”
“Ahh… Whelp. Accio wand!” A wand zips up from the grass somewhere behind Dumbledore, into Bonbon’s waiting hand. “This it?”
He glances at it and nods. “Yes, thank you. So, ah… Malfoy? … Huh. I guess…?”
Bonbon glances at Malfoy while the latter backsteps, looking nervous. “You heard about what happened?”
Dumbledore nods.
“His mane colors stayed with the reverse transformation, but everything else returned.”
“His… mane colors.”
“Well, that and his ability to use Equestrian magic.”
Dumbledore sighs. “It wasn’t random, was it?”
Bonbon shakes her head.
“It was Lyra, wasn’t it?”
She nods. “She never has been one for asking permission.”
“And that… broom?”
“The Spoonata? The Weasley twins may have set it off, but Lyra and me are the only two people in either world that know how to make it, and she’s the only one actually capable of making it. They won’t have realized until it was too late that it’s classified as a weapon of mass destruction, not a pranking tool. And it would seem Lyra didn’t keep tight enough control of it after it was set off to limit it to pranking strength.” She sighs. “Should I plan to come to your office to explain everything after dinner?” She glances up. “Malfoy, think you could give us a boost?”
Dumbledore raises his eyebrow.
“Eh,” Malfoy mutters. “I don’t know where the infirmary is.”
“Hmm…” She rubs her chin for a second. “Yeah, that should work.” She looks up at Dumbledore. “You know where the infirmary is, right Professor?”
He grins, letting out a strained chuckle. “Madam Pomfrey would kill me if ever I forgot,” he states. “Then she’d do it again, in the infirmary.”
Bonbon snorts. “So, if you concentrate on the infirmary, then Malfoy can just concentrate on you, and we’ll get there with no problem.”
“Really?” Malfoy asks.
She nods. “It’s a very flexible matrix. Just make sure you’re touching him.”
Three seconds pass, before everything blinks blue.
“Woah,” Malfoy mumbles, tipping over backwards.
Bonbon catches him. “Dizzy?”
He nods, while Madam Pomfrey takes one look at Dumbledore from across the room and gasps. “Feeling faint all of the sudden,” Malfoy mumbles.
Bonbon nods. “I was wondering when we’d find your limit,” she states. “Don’t worry, it should go away in a minute. It would seem we’ve reached the limit of your thaumic capacity; feeling faint is a typical symptom of nearly running out of magic.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Nearly? What about entirely?”
She smiles. “If you ever manage to run entirely out of magic, the spell will fail and you’ll knock yourself out for a few hours. For that reason, I would recommend not teleporting for the next several hours, just to be sure you’ve regenerated enough. At least until you get a feel for those reserves, you’re going to want to be more than a little bit skimpy with Equestrian spellcasting.”
“Only Equestrian?” Dumbledore asks, sitting on the end of the nearest bed while Madam Pomfrey works her magic on his injured arm.
Bonbon nods. “That’s one of the things we noticed first when we started experimenting back in August,” she states. “While Equestrian magic comes from inside, allowing it to function exactly the same in any circumstance, the local magic here- like with wands- relies on channeling ambient magic. Sure, there’s a couple spells that can draw on the wizard’s own reserves, but their thaumic cost is astronomical next to the Equestrian equivalent. Because of that, even with his reserves depleted, he could- in theory- enter into an extended wizard’s duel and still come out on top.
“And you’ll probably be interested to know,” she smiles back at Malfoy, “most Equestrians your age don’t have the reserve depth to even dream of teleporting. And of course, the thaumic regeneration rate is proportional to the depth- and fill state- of that reserve, making for about a constant overall regeneration time of about twenty-four hours, as I recall, from empty to full.”
“Twenty-four hours?” Malfoy asks. “That’s…”
“A lot of time?” Bonbon asks. “Yeah, it is. It regenerates faster the emptier the reserve is, though you wouldn’t understand the terms used to describe the gradient.” She shakes her head. “That’s where it gets into advanced thaumic theories, some of which Lyra has been able to prove- or disprove- with her unique advantage, but most of which are still just theories.”