The Gate

by computerneek


Chapter 28

Lucius Malfoy stares at his son.
His wife, Narcissa, steps up next to him.  “Draco?” she asks.
“Yes, Mom?” the youngest Malfoy asks, stepping out of the great metal contraption that had just landed on the lawn.
“What happened to your hair?” she asks.
“My hair?” Draco raises his hand up to his hair, brushing it back.  “Oh, right. There was a… little prank at school, involving some pretty creative transformation spellwork.  Most of it wore off in a few minutes- the hair didn’t, thanks to the family curse. The strangest part about that was that my hair was soft.  I wasn’t sure if it was permanent or not; from what I hear, it wasn’t.  The Equestrian students at Hogwarts, however, recognized the curse by that interaction- so I just spent the last day and a half or so in Equestria, meeting with some of their finest mages.  They’ve managed to make the hair effect permanent.” He pulls his hair forwards, over his shoulder. “So, my hair is now permanently silky smooth and soft to the touch, never to grind another hat.  Or shirt, or robe. Even if it looks a little funny.”
“Really?” Narcissa asks excitedly; Lucius is still staring at the machine and the Equestrians still in it.  “They managed to break the curse?”
Draco shakes his head.  “Unfortunately, even they couldn’t do that.  They could, however, make this workaround- and they promise me that, if I remain the final heir to the House of Malfoy for long enough, the curse will collapse on its own.”
“There are a few side effects to that workaround, though,” the purple-haired girl wearing Slytherin robes states, stepping out of the machine.  “That hair really can’t be recolored, restyled, or cut; it’ll revert to its current state entirely on its own in a matter of hours.” She shakes her head.  “Sorry about that- but between that and having to replace his scalp every few minutes, everyone thought this would be preferable.”
Draco raises an eyebrow back up at her.  “Every few minutes?”
She shrugs.  “Or shirt, or hat.  Fortunately, if you bundle it up in a hat, it should stay there.  So, there is a way to hide it when you need to.”
Lucius lifts one hand, very suddenly, to point at the machine and the two girls- one Hufflepuff, one Slytherin- still in it.  “What is that?” he asks.
The Slytherin girl still in it hops out, trotting towards them.  “Oh, that? That’s Cherry Berry’s helicopter. And if you value your life, I’d recommend you don’t get between it and her.  She can get mighty territorial about her flying contraptions, and this is the most capable one she’s had yet.”
“Cherry Berry?”
She nods, sticking her thumb over her shoulder.  “The pilot,” she states. She lowers her hand again, offering it for him to shake.  “I’m Bonbon, by the way- and this is Starlight Glimmer.” Her other hand gestures to the other Slytherin.  “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Any…  particular reason you’re here?” Narcissa asks.
“Yes,” Starlight nods.  “We were on our way back to the castle, but we only promised Dumbledore we’d be back by dinner today- and with Cherry’s flying, we’ve got three extra hours to kill before we get anywhere close to breaking that promise.  So, when Draco here realized we were going to overfly your property, he asked if we could stop by real quick.”
“Real quick?” Narcissa asks.  “Are you sure you can’t stay, ah, two and a half hours, maybe?”
Bonbon shrugs.  “I don’t know, can we?  We have the time to do that, certainly.”


And so, some forty hours after his most recent, complete meal, Lucius finds himself entertaining three Equestrians over lunch- and finally resetting his decision to withdraw his son.  Dangerous or not, if they could save his dear Draco from the dreadful fate the family curse had doomed him to, they’re worth keeping around.  Who knows, they might save a few more pureblood families.
…  They’re ignoring his suggestions that they specify their blood statuses, though.
“So,” he finally declares, deciding to cut through the nonsense and make the question explicit.  “Are you girls purebloods?”
Draco grins, Cherry chuckles.  Bonbon rolls her eyes, and Starlight speaks.  “No,” she answers. “And no to your next two questions, as well.  We’re not purebloods, we’re not half-bloods, and we’re not muggleborn.  We’re Equestrian.”
“How?” Narcissa asks, recovering faster than Lucius.
“Simple,” Bonbon answers.  “We’re from Equestria: An entirely different universe than this one.  Over in Equestria, literally everyone has magic- muggles, and squibs, simply don’t exist.  So, you could say that we’re purebloods, when in fact, no wizard nor muggle blood runs in our veins.”  She smiles. “It’s new territory. The gate didn’t exist until a month and a half ago.”
His vision seems to skew sideways, and he falls towards the ground- then stops very suddenly, the whole world tinting somehow blue.
“You okay, Dad?” Draco asks, reaching out to push him back upright.
The world goes dark instead.


“In through the nose, out through the mouth,” Lyra coos, patting Hermione’s back.  It’s Tuesday, and most of the school is at breakfast right now.
“But-!” Hermione states, looking fearfully at Lyra.  “What if it’s broken? What if- What if I never turn back?  What if it kills me?”
“Hermione,” Lyra repeats.  “Calm down. It’s not going to kill you.”
Hermione doesn’t calm down.  “Don’t say that! You’re just saying it to make me feel good!”
Lyra shakes her head.  “In through the nose, out through the mouth.  I’ve been watching it progress, and it’s been going exactly as it’s supposed to.”
“But what if it goes off course at the last second?  What if it breaks?”
“Hermione, please.  The final stage is about to start, and if you don’t calm down, the pain relief spell won’t stick.”
Hermione grabs her shoulders and shakes them.  “What if you missed something?”
“Hermione…”  Lyra sighs, closing her eyes.  “Just remember: In through the nose, out through the ears.  Let it take away all your worries, and calm yourself down. You’re going to need it.”
“Out through the ears?” Hermione asks.
Lyra raises an eyebrow.  “Ears? Did I say ears? Sorry, I meant mile.”
“Lyra!  This is not the time to be joking around!”
“And neither is it time to be panicking!  All my spellwork completed its task and dissolved yesterday!  The rest is just your magic getting to know you- utterly harmless!  Now please, calm down before you transform!”
Hermione opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.  Rather, some ungodly pain tears through her entire body at that very moment, as if she had been put through a meat grinder and poured into the sun.  Her muscles spasm- but to no effect. She can’t hear her scream, the one that should be echoing about the dungeons right about now. Even though she’s all the way up in Gryffindor tower.
Her body, and the pain, seem to change shape.  Maybe it’s those spasms. Maybe not.
Maybe she’s being permanently transformed into something terrible.
Maybe she’s…
Just as suddenly as it had come, the pain is gone.  All that’s left is the residual sting. Not nearly as bad, but still.
She lets out a low moan, lying limply on her bed.
“Are you alright?” Lyra’s voice floats in from somewhere.
She moans again.  Her voice sounds right, but her mouth doesn’t feel right.  Some time passes, the sting fading, before she responds. “What…  What happened?” she mutters slowly.
“The transformation,” Lyra answers her.  “Sorry I couldn’t block the pain. You were…  too energized for that. It’s the only class of pain relief spell that’s effective against this kind of pain, but it’s also the one that only works when you’re calm.”
She puts a hand to her face.  “Ow-! … Uh…”
“Surprised?” Lyra asks.
She stares at the appendage she’d clubbed herself with.  It feels like her arm, but her hand is missing, replaced by a very solid mass reminiscent of a horse’s hoof.  She’d think it was made of bronze, if it was a bit heavier, and if the matching fur covering the rest of the arm wasn’t shifting easily in her gentle breaths.  “What in the world…?” she finally asks, staring at it.
“You’re a pony,” Lyra informs her.  “That’s actually what us Equestrians are on the other side of the gate.  Which, you should now be able to cross as well.”
“I’m…  I’m a pony?” she asks, looking up at Lyra.  “How… How will I hold my wand?”
Lyra casually lifts her own wand out of her pocket with the very tip of her finger.  “It’s called the ‘hoofgrip’,” she informs her. “Lotsa unicorn mages call it ‘tactile telekinesis’, but that’s not what it is at all.  All ponies have it- and it sticks with us in human form. Just think of your hooves as hands, and they’ll work just like hands.” She grins.  “You know, I’m kinda curious what Dash would think about teaching you to fly.”
“F-Fly?” she squeaks.  “But- but ponies can’t fly!”
“One third of them can, and you’re one of them.”  She grins at her. “As a matter of fact, you’re a very rare one of them.  You could probably give Dash a run for her money, too- it’s not many pegasi whose power levels are more typical in a unicorn.”
“I- I can’t fly!” she squeaks.  “I can’t-!” She cuts herself off, eyes opening wide, as she feels two of those three new appendages, moving them away from her sides, before folding them tight once again.  “N-No way! I-I’m a-af-fraid of h-heights!”
Then she looks down at them, just to be sure- but the very moment she tries, she seems to change again, and her bronze hoof is once again a fleshy hand.
She stares at the hand for a few seconds, before whirling upright to lock both it and its opposite onto Lyra’s shoulders.  “Lyra!” she demands.
A wave of smooth, metallic red hair with icy blue fringes whirls around with her momentum, flying over her shoulder to fall against her chest, before hanging down.
“What?” Lyra asks, alarmed.
“It didn’t work!” she screams.
Lyra blinks.  “Uh, it looks like it worked to me,” she states.  “Why do you say that?”
I still have wings!
“Really?  Let’s see ‘em!”  Lyra seems excited.
“No, no!” she squeaks.  “Lyra, make me human again!  Please!”
Lyra blinks.  “You, ah, are human.  If… If the transformation didn’t self-reverse properly, I suppose I could try transforming you into a pony again- I have worked out a way to get an Equestrian back into pony form on this side for a minute or so.”
“Then please, do-!”
Hermione breaks off again, eyes wide, hooves on Lyra’s shoulders.  Lyra’s also staring.
“Uh,” Lyra mutters.  “Well, at least I know what that part does.  Begs the question of what it does for a non-Equestrian, though.”
Hermione wraps her arms- and hands- around Lyra, hugging her tight.  “P-Please, I don’t want to be a pony again,” she cries.
Lyra hugs her back.  “Hermione…” She sighs.  “You know, that second transformation was voluntary.  I didn’t realize it was possible, before- but I guess that little bit of magic wizards have that ponies don’t lets you transform yourself at will.  Forced transformation simply won’t happen- without that little bit, actually, you’d be forced to transform into a human.  But I guess you’re able to turn into a pony whenever you like.”
“But- but- what if something transforms me?”
“Then you can immediately transform yourself back.  It’s at-will, Hermione.”
Hermione looks up with tears in her eyes to meet Lyra’s.  “What about my wings?” she asks. “How… How do I turn into a human?”
“You still have your wings in your human form?”
Hermione nods.
“...  Huh. Can you unfold them for me?  I’d like to get a good look, see if they’re likely to either disappear or take care of themselves.”
Hermione carefully and slowly uses muscles she didn’t have half an hour ago, extending her wings, and looks over her shoulder at one.  It’s bronze colored, just like her hoof was, and it’s massive, almost six feet long.
Lyra touches it, running a finger down the leading edge of the wing and causing her to shiver at the unfamiliar sensation.  “Mm, I’m afraid they’re here for good,” Lyra informs her. “There’s nothing I can do to make them disappear. Though, it seems the same magic that lets your clothes disappear- and reappear- with your human form is allowing your wings to go straight through them without any holes or damage.  Convenient- and they should still slip underneath all your clothes when you fold them.”
She tightens her grip on Lyra, her shiny wings joining in for good measure, and speaks between sobs.  “Then… Then who knows how to take care of them? Who can teach me how?”
Lyra strokes the feathers of her right wing thoughtfully for a few seconds.  “Actually, you won’t need to worry about that. Your magic’s strong enough they’ll take care of themselves- and never need any preening.  Cleaning should be as simple as getting them wet for a second.” Chuckle. “I’ve always envied how easy it is for a pegasus to get clean. I mean, sure, I’ve got a cleaning spell powerful enough to do the same job- but it takes a few seconds and, more importantly, a thought to use.  Pegasi, no, all they have to do is go for a walk in the rain.”  Snort. “Speaking of which, the same magic that keeps pegasus fur dry ought to keep your clothes dry in the rain as well.”
Hermione pauses, tilting her head.  “You mean, I’ll never need an umbrella again?”

Lyra nods.  “Yep! Forevermore, you’ll be able to have as much fun in the rain as you like- and not have to worry about drying off or tracking water inside.  I’m not sure if that same protection will extend to things like mud, though; I’ve never seen pegasus magic as strong as yours.”