//------------------------------// // Chapter 18 // Story: The Gate // by computerneek //------------------------------// “Uh, Malfoy?” Draco looks up from his steak, towards the second-year that had asked the question, and draws a blank on her name.  “Mm?” he asks, still chewing his last bite, while his eyes search out her nametag. The girl, Nancy Corrigan, reaches out a hand as if to touch his hair, but stops herself short.  “What… What did you do to your hair?” He resists the urge to sigh, turning his gaze resolutely back to his food as he finishes his bite, hoping she didn’t notice his blush.  He’d asked Bonbon an hour or so ago, on the way back out to the waiting flying lesson, if there was any way to hide it. Unfortunately, she’d explained that any attempt to cut it would be fruitless, as it’d simply grow back overnight- and the color would burn through any dyes in a matter of hours.  Magic-based dyes, of course, would never catch in the first place, being repelled by the natural magic in his hair. So he’d very carefully not mentioned, looked at, or otherwise drawn attention to it.  He’d even sat next to Bonbon, at the edge of the Equestrians, in an attempt to mask the way it waves gently on its way down to his waist.  Add in the glistening silver color, complete with two deep, navy blue stripes splitting it into thirds, and he looks very much like one of the Equestrians. As a matter of fact, had it been a girl wearing his hair, he’d have labeled it with such words as ‘elegant’ or ‘gorgeous’.  Only, he’s pretty sure such terms simply don’t apply to men. And, he’s more than a little worried about what his father will do when he finds out his son’s hair looks like a girl’s…  irreversibly. He swallows his well-chewed steak, making a quick decision.  He’d formulated a plan on his way here; however, he’s not sure how long his story will last.  Oh well- at least it’s better than admitting that, according to Bonbon, he’s been transformed- permanently- into an Equestrian. “I don’t know,” he mutters, brushing it aside with one hand.  “I think it’s some kind of prank.” “Oh.”  The girl deflates visibly.  “It’s just… Well, I wish I had hair like that.  I mean, it’s…” She pauses, looking down.  “It’s… Uh…” He sighs, staring at his plate, and closes his eyes.  “Yeah, I know,” he mutters. “It’d probably look better on you anyways.”  Then he glances sideways, at Bonbon- whose thoughtful expression he finds more than a little unnerving. She sighs, and he looks towards her again; she’s absentmindedly twirling a lock of her gleaming, back-length black hair. Then he grins.  “You know, just a little bit more length and a couple color charms and you’ve already got it,” he states. “Ah…” she mumbles, looking between her hair and his.  “That… That is true.” Then, thankfully, she turns away, returning to her seat, lost in thought. He lets out a sigh of relief.  Then… “A prank, you say?” He groans, glancing at the girl that had sat on the side not occupied by Bonbon just long enough to read her nametag.  “Yes, Clearwater.” “Who was it?” He lifts his head out of his hands to look at her.  “What?” he asks. “You want it or something?” She nods.  “Of course!”  She raises a hand to scrub at her short brown hair.  “I wish I could grow my hair out, but every time I try, it becomes a lopsided, frizzy mess!” He turns away from her, towards Bonbon, and shakes his head slightly.  “I don’t get it.” Bonbon chuckles.  “I don’t think she realizes how painful it was.” “Pain-?” Lucy asks. He turns back to her; she’s looking at him wide-eyed.  “Yeah, painful,” he states. “It felt like…” He glances back at Bonbon for a moment.  “What was the analogy? Like I’d been hit by the Knight Bus and run over by the Hogwarts Express a few times?” Bonbon nods.  “That is the description that was used, yes.” Lucy shudders.  “Would… Would a painkiller spell work?” Malfoy simply turns to Bonbon, not having a clue. Bonbon shrugs.  “You’d have to ask Lyra,” she answers.  “She’s the one that did it. I’ll warn you, though, she’s quite the prankster.  And she’s being punished for that stunt during flying lessons today.” “Stunt?” Lucy asks.  “I thought she’d only get a slap on the wrist for the helicopter?” Bonbon lets out a short laugh.  “And if that’s all she’d done, that would be the end of it,” she answers.  “But no. She had to deploy a weapon of mass destruction.  On non-Equestrian soil.  Completely aside from how she nearly knocked the helicopter out of the air- which would have killed the occupants, and any unlucky enough to be hit by the shrapnel- with said weapon! “So yeah.  She’s facing the music, and she’s going to be itching to explode on someone for the next month at least.” Lucy blinks.  “Month?” Nod.  “That’s how long her daily detentions with Dumbledore last.”  Then she sighs. “I still think the Ministry is letting her off easy with a fine and two bits of paperwork.  Though, since they don’t know it was classified as a weapon of mass destruction, they probably don’t see it that way.” “Wait.  Paperwork?” Nod.  “Yep. She’s got a whole ream of it to fill out for the RESS, then I rather suspect Dumbledore plans on emulating paperwork or something for her detentions.  So she’s going to be itching to explode on someone’s face- anyone, really.  And I know, from personal experience, you do not want her exploding in your face.” “Is…  Is it possible to block?” “In theory, sure.  In reality, not even close.  She’s powerful, she’s skilled, and she’s smart, a combination that lets her cut through just about any defense on the planet- including those designed with her in mind.  Besides, if you present her with the challenge of a barrier she can’t immediately penetrate, she’s going to analyze it and calculate exactly how to penetrate. Possibly delaying the prank by a few hours or, best-case scenario, a few days- at which point it could be more or less elaborate, depending on if she thought you meant the barrier as an insult or as a challenge.” “Wow.” “Yep.  And that’s not even counting that she tells me the spells she used here-” she gestures at Malfoy- “work more by osmosis than by brute force.  So, since every castable or charmable defense we’ve seen in this world works on a momentary basis, they’ll be utterly useless against it, even if you keep it up all the time.” “Wait a sec,” Malfoy interrupts.  “What’s ‘osmosis’?” Bonbon pauses, and sighs.  “Uh… They soak into you very slowly, kinda like when you brine a turkey, rather than all at once, like the axe-chop of things like stunning spells.” “Oh.” She smiles.  “There! And now that that’s solved, you’ve made me curious.”  One hand rises up to one of the black things on the front of her robes.  “Lyra, how effective would a painkiller be in the final stages of the papa tango?” Lucy blinks, looking between Malfoy and Bonbon.  “Wait, that was the papa tango you were all talking about?” Bonbon nods sagely, speaking into her thing again.  “Lake don’t-mess-with-Twilight.” A sympathetic ‘Oooh…’ is heard echoing across the room, from several point sources. “Uh, what?” Malfoy asks. “Lake what?” Lucy asks. Bonbon grins.  “She’s thinking about it, so…  She asked ‘how bad did it hurt’.” Malfoy tilts his head.  “How is a lake an answer to that?” “Well, if you knew the story of the lake in question, you’d understand.  Once upon a time, one Twilight Sparkle did battle with a monster called Tirek, one of the strongest opponents Equestria has ever faced.” “Wait, isn’t she in Ravenclaw?” Lucy asks. Bonbon nods.  “This was before that.  She did battle with him, trading beams of pure, undiluted death and destruction.  Nobody was hurt, even on the sidelines- something I’m still amazed by.  And the main reason she didn’t squish him like a bug was because he was so good at blocking, and she had no magical combat experience whatsoever.  Most of his beams fell on the ground, making trenches or craters. “Only one of hers missed his barriers.  Half a trillion tons of dirt and rock were vaporized by that blast, including one bank of the Everfree River they were fighting near.  A couple months later, thanks to some judicious weather management, and it’s an impressive lake named after the fight that spawned it.” Malfoy tilts his head.  “Yeah, it did hurt that much.” “Oh boy,” Lucy mutters. “Oh, she’s responding,” Bonbon mutters.  Then winces, and goes for her black thing.  “Yes, it’s Lucy. But you wait until she asks for it.  If you ever do the papa tango again without both mine and your subject’s permission, I personally guarantee you will never see the end of the paperwork.”  She looks up, lowering her hand as several amused chuckles echo through the room.  “Yeah, a painkiller spell would work, but only if it’s instigated within about a five-minute window just before said final stage begins.  And, of course, it began without warning on Malfoy, right?” He thinks back to that flight, and nods.  “Never saw it coming,” he states. “It was over in a second, though.  And the wear-off was painless.” Lucy looks up at Bonbon.  “If you’re laying down the law now, why not earlier?” “Because I didn’t make the law earlier,” Bonbon answers simply.  “She surrendered that privilege when she used a weapon of mass destruction as a distraction in foreign territory.” “You know, I find myself hoping Dumbledore has a lot of paperwork for her.” Bonbon lets out a snort of laughter.  “Fat chance. But yeah, she deserves it.” “Ahh, glad you could stop by, Bonbon.” Bonbon bows her head.  “Me as well,” she states.  “There are a… few more things that need to be brought up today, but I think we can start with what happened.” Dumbledore nods.  “I heard that Malfoy was transformed into a small talking silver unicorn?” She nods.  “With a pair of navy blue stripes in her otherwise silver mane and tail and no cutie mark, yes.” He stares at her.  “Uh, what?” She sighs.  “What I’m about to tell you is still top secret,” she informs him.  “I’m going to have to ask you keep it secret in turn.” He bows his head.  “I can do that.” She nods sharply.  “Excellent. Well, Equestrians are so named because that’s what we are on the other side of the portal- ponies.  Over the weekend, Lyra perfected her technique to integrate Equestrian magics into the human magical matrix, and deemed it appropriate to test on Malfoy.  She actually set the spells working during potions class on Monday; she’s not sure exactly what set off the final stage today, right as he fell off his broom, but it was triggered.  He was transformed into a fairly normal-looking Equestrian- nothing like the beasts in that forest that you call unicorns. “I haven’t told anyone that he was transformed into a filly; Lyra still thinks he ended up as a colt.  Neither have I told anyone that he’s far from typical. Sure, he looks fairly typical- but he’s incredibly powerful for his age, in terms of Equestrian magic, and I’m already seeing signs of something we call ‘cutie mark magic’.  As a matter of fact, those started turning up during the very same class she set the spells working in. Don’t ask me why it’s called a cutie mark, but it’s a mark on our flanks that appears when we realize something that we’re especially good at.  As an expert candymaker, mine is a few wrapped candies; as an accomplished musician, Lyra’s is a lyre. “In any case, he doesn’t seem to have taken his feminine pony form very well, even though he only spent about fifteen minutes as a pony before his magic synchronized itself with him and turned him back.  I understand the initial transformation was incredibly painful, and he’s still touchy about his transformation- especially since his mane from the same has stuck around and, thanks to Equestrian magic, is impossible to trim or disguise effectively. “Perhaps the most important lesson from that ordeal is that he appears to have been reduced, in age, back down to exactly eleven years old- the very age each and every one of us Equestrians took on on this side when we crossed the gate for the first time.  We have verified that double-crossing the portal does not reset our human ages, and that our pony ages are completely unaffected.  I’ve also promised to give her unending paperwork if she tries it on another without both mine and their permission. “The helicopter, we acquired about a month ago through liberal use of illusion spells.  It so happens it’s not all that different from the pedal-powered version found in Equestria, so our pedalothopter expert Cherry Berry could fly it with no issue.  Getting it to Hogwarts was a simple teleportation, so no breach was made in that respect; we had a few safety spells placed on the rotors, so it should have been impossible for someone to accidentally fly into them. “As for the Spoonata…  how much do you know already?” “I know it involved a broomstick, a bottle of butterbeer, a spoon, and a tea cozy; then I heard really everything you told Lyra after breaking the broomstick.” Nod.  “So, just about everything that can be safely shared, even in a top-secret setting.” He blinks.  “Ahh… And, her punishment for that…  is paperwork?” Nod.  “She was also removed as mission leader; that’s me now.” Dumbledore looks to the side, at a very tall pile of papers.  “How good is she?” Bonbon looks at it as well, and raises an eyebrow.  “Depends. What kind of information does it need?” He shows her one of the completed ones on his desk. She nods.  “Yeah, she can do that.  Probably do… Oh, between thirty and forty-five per hour, probably.” “Hmmm,” Dumbledore mutters, drumming his fingers as he looks thoughtfully at the pile. Bonbon glances at the stack again.  “And for the record, I approve of that plan.” “Paperwork!?  Please, no!  Anything but!” “Miss Heartstrings, given the nature of your violation, what I should be doing right now is expelling you.  If you would prefer I do that, I still can.  But you did something wrong at this school and, if you plan to continue attending in any capacity, you must accept your punishment.” “But…  but paperwork…” “I know.  That stack and you’re done for the day.”  He nods at the small stack, of only two hundred pieces, sitting on the smaller desk he had placed in his office. She glares at the offending pages for a second.  “Well… alright.” “Miss Heartstrings?” She looks up from the thirtieth or so piece of paperwork in her stack.  “Mm?” “What is that you’re using?” “Huh?  Oh, this?  It’s… a ballpoint pen.  A muggle device, like a quill that carries its ink inside it and almost never runs out.” “Interesting.”  He looks up at his much taller stack once again.  “I’ll have to look into that sometime.” He dips his quill in his inkpot for the zillionth time, while she gets back to work. For as much as the tool she’s using- a ‘ballpoint pen’, apparently- is unfamiliar to him, she’s clearly giving the pages before her their due diligence, studying each and every one to verify she’s putting the correct information in the correct space on the correct page.  The only difference, aside from the tool, between her work and his own is that she’s using wandless levitation to move the pages, rather than her fingers, saving her from the countless papercuts he’s had. When asked, though, it’s Equestrian magic, and he won’t be able to use it himself.  She’d looked like there was something more she wanted to say, but she seemed to think better of it.