The Gate

by computerneek


Chapter 38

“No more studying,” Ron sighs happily, stretching out on the grass.
“Eh, something like that,” Lyra agrees, trotting up next to him, Harry, and Hermione to flop down on the grass.  She glances at the latter two. “Us second-tier instructors still have to finish grading our students’ finals, though.  Unless, like me and Diamond at least, you’ve already finished.”
Hermione and Harry both nod.  “Yep, finished that last night,” Harry answers.
Hermione grins.  “Three days ago, here.  Had fun keeping everything straight with Bonbon.”
“Wait a second,” Ron mutters, staring at Harry.  “You were teaching?”
Harry nods.  “Yep. Defense Against the Dark Arts.  We… never did actually use any of the information from Professor Quirrell’s classes.”
“In any case, I’ve finally gotten the new papa tango matrices complete and tested,” Lyra continues, ignoring Ron’s dumbfounded expression.  “As such, it’s ready when you are, Harry.”
“Awesome,” Harry states, rising quickly.  “How about now?”
Lyra shrugs, hopping back to her feet as well, before walking with him back towards the castle.  “You’re still aware of the danger, right?”
“Yeah.  Um, and the pain.”
She nods.  “Yeah, and the pain.  Though, it shouldn’t be quite as bad as I thought; I was able to work the painkiller patterns into the matrix.  Won’t be overly helpful for you, unfortunately- but it should take the edge off of it, and only leave you incapacitated by pain for a few hours.”
He shudders.  “Yeah.”
“And you’re still aware of the new hairstyle you’re going to get, right?”
He shrugs.  “What does that matter?”
“And the only thirty percent, or so, chance that you’ll gain the levitation ability?”
He shrugs.  “It’s better than nothing,” he answers.  “And besides, my scar’s going to stop hurting all the time, right?”
She nods.  “Right. As a matter of fact, that’s the reason the danger- and pain- is present:  Because I’ll be stripping out the soul fragment that’s causing that pain.”
“Let’s do it.”


“H-Hermione?  Um-! Where’s Lyra?  Or Spike?”
Hermione looks up; a five-year-old girl is charging towards her, black hair billowing through the air behind her.  “Norberta?” she asks. It’d been a surprise when ‘Norbert’ had first transformed into a human last month… and turned out to be female.  She’d turned into a two-year-old at the time, but hasn’t slowed down in her growth spurt just yet; according to Lyra, she should slow down to a normal aging rate, at about eleven (biological) years old, just in time for next year.  “What’s wrong?”
“Where-  Where’s Lyra?”
“She just left with Harry to do his papa tango,” Hermione informs her.  “Some… Oh, ten minutes ago, as a matter of fact. She’s probably in the middle of it right now.  What’s wrong?”
Norberta nods, turning to face her more fully, her tone losing the panic, but not the urgency.  “I found out this morning that dragon breeding is illegal, so I asked Dad how he got my egg.”
“Wait, why Spike?” Ron injects.
Norberta huffs angrily, sparks flying from her nostrils.  “Because I’m not old enough to send a dragonfire message just yet,” she answers sharply, before blowing a tongue of scalding flames at him.  Not close enough to hurt him, but enough to make him jump up and run. She turns back to Hermione. “He played cards for it, against a mysterious bloke in a bar, that kept buying him drinks.  He told that guy that all he’d have to do to get past Fluffy is to play him some music!”
Hermione’s hand rises to her radio.  “Foxtrot Sierra Echo.” She lowers the hand.  “Okay, she knows.”
Norberta blinks.  “That simple?”
“Readiness Alpha Seven,” Bonbon’s voice orders on the radio.  “Report in.”
Hermione nods.  “Yeah. We’ve been prepared for that secret to get out for quite a while.”
“Foxtrot Gamma Sierra,” an unfamiliar voice answers Bonbon.
“So…”
Hermione nods, rising to pat the girl’s shoulder reassuringly.  “In case you’re wondering, Lyra’s not even the leader. We’re all members of the Royal Equestrian Secret Service- and Bonbon’s the mission leader.  She’s just ordered a higher readiness state- so we’ll know very quickly if anyone goes anywhere near Fluffy, even if they take out the guards.” She grins.  “And so will Dumbledore. So don’t worry, the Stone isn’t in any danger.”
“...  Oh.”


“Ow…”  Harry groans, one hand coming up to his forehead.  He’s lying on something soft, but, beyond that, he doesn’t know.  Everything hurts a bit too much.
“You’re awake,” someone states, off to his side.  It takes him a few seconds to match the voice to a name, he hurts so much.
He tilts his head down, groaning again, to look down at her- yes, she’s there, next to…  his bed? “What…” He begins.
“Having difficulty formulating coherent thoughts?” and older, sterner voice asks, from the other side.  A voice he’s heard before. He looks, and has to concentrate. Madam Pomfrey.
“Uh…” he mumbles.
“You’ll be right as rain in five minutes’ time,” Madam Pomfrey continues.  “Just the residual shock from the pain. Which is a lot better than can be said for everyone else in here.”  She turns around, tending to…  it looks like a Slytherin, in the hospital bed next to his.
“Ugh…” he groans again, turning back to Lyra.  “What… What happened…?”
“Total success,” Lyra announces to him.  Then she giggles. “And I didn’t tell you about the zero percent chance the muggles will continue hating on you this summer, did I?”
He blinks; that almost made sense.  His brain is starting to get into line.  “What?”
Lyra grins.  “You know how the Dursleys, and every other muggle in that entire town, always pounded on you so much?”
It takes him a few seconds to think, to analyze the question, before he nods.
“They won’t anymore,” she states.  “And not because I did something to them, which uh, I did, actually.  Instead, it’s because all that hating was an effect of carrying the aura of someone as evil as Voldemort around with you.  Even I can’t see evil in someone’s aura- but non-magicals are highly susceptible to the presence of evil nearby, and will instinctively become hostile towards it.  The evil has been removed from you now, though, so you should be able to have a normal life with the Dursleys.” She chuckles. “Or, as normal a life as the Dursleys have any more, at any rate.”
He blinks, processing everything for a few seconds.  Then he speaks up again. “What… about everyone… else?”
“Oh, that.”  Lyra’s spirits fall.  “Quirrell is going in after the Stone.  Dumbledore’s been notified, but he’s so far trashed every attempt to apprehend him.”  She glances upwards. “It’s a good thing the Killing Curse doesn’t work the same on us Equestrians; nobody was killed, though they’re all mighty close to it and expected to be unconscious- and under intensive care- for days.”  She sighs.  “Dumbledore’s several hours out yet, but Quirrell’s going to be hitting the mirror any moment now.  With that long to analyze it, it’s at least possible he’ll fool the spell- no spell is foolproof- and acquire the stone.
“Unfortunately, that’s where you come in.  We’re pretty confident he won’t try to kill you outright- and if he does, your envelope will recognize it, and allow you to completely ignore the killing curse.  Mine won’t- not the first time, at least.  I’d get something close to what you got back when you were little.  So, we’re ready to send you down after him, as soon as the pain fades far enough.  I can get you past Fluffy- but I can’t follow you into that chamber, because I won’t be able to teleport out if he happens along, and I’d be in much greater danger than you.
“Hermione’s ready to go down with you; she’ll get you past the devil’s snare, the key room, and the potion room.  If the troll’s active, she knows how to take those down as well.
“And finally, we’ve got Ron going with you as well; you’ll need his skill to get you through the chess room.
“When you get to the final room, your goal is to stall Quirrell for as long as possible.  Confuse him, distract him, even punch him on the nose if you have to. Your goal is to keep him from analyzing the spellwork.”
He sits up, holding a hand to his head.  “Ow… Alright. Where do I go…?”
Madam Pomfrey clears her throat.
Lyra looks past him, in her direction, then back at him.  “Well, if you’re that determined… I’ll lead you there.” She glances back at Madam Pomfrey.  “At a walk, so you’ll be fully recovered by the time we get there.”
He sighs.  “Can’t you…?”
“Go faster?  Of course I could.  But then I’d only be sealing Britain’s fate as being attacked by Voldemort again.  The Royal Equestrian Secret Service may have a lot of experience fighting big, bad monsters, but the easiest way to fight them- by far- is to keep them from appearing in the first place.”
“Great,” he grumbles.
“Hey, at least you’ll be with your friends.  They should be able to follow you as far as the potion room- that’s the one right before the final room.  They’ll wait for you there- if it’s too dangerous for you in that final room, just run back through the door and Hermione can get you out of there before you can say Quidditch.”
“Quidditch?” he asks.
Lyra grins.  “Or any other two-syllable word.  She’s really fast, as I’m sure you remember from her falling lessons.”
He blinks, then remembers.  “Oh, yeah.”
“Anyways, we’d best go make sure Madam Pomfrey doesn’t have a whole nation to treat, haven’t we?”