//------------------------------//
// New Possibility 
// Story: Harry Potter and the Crystal Empire 
// by Damaged 
//------------------------------//

"Harry!" My attention pulled to an orange blur that was rushing toward me. "Harry! I thought you'd—Well I saw you get out, but then things kinda went bad, and we—Percy?" The way the colt spoke put me in mind of just one person.

"Ron, your brother's a hero," I said and stepped to the side so Ron could get to Percy without stomping his way over me.

I had barely a moment to grin at the pair as they actually hugged before I was caught up by a lightning bolt of movement that grabbed me tight and coiled around me like—well—a snake. "You're alive!" Addera's voice held more emotion than I'd ever heard from her before. She sounded like she was almost crying. When I tried to look up to see if she was, all I could see was her jaw. "I was worried for you, Harry Potter."

Hedwig let out a soft whistle from where she'd landed when I'd gotten snake-hugged. There was a mix of indignation and happiness in the sound that made me giggle a little.

Was she really a familiar? What was a familiar, anyway? I'd have to check out the library when I get a chance—I'm sure Hermione will know where to look. 

"Did we win?" I asked.

Pulling me back from the bone-crushing grip she'd held me in, Addera looked down at me through her magic glasses. "Of course we did, Harry Potter." I hadn't noticed it, what with everyone being all sparkly now, but Addera was too. It was odd to be able to see through her coils like they were stained-glass, but still feel them as flesh squeezing me.

"Let me guess, Sombra seems to be dead, but will come back years later looking for revenge on our kids?" Truth be told, I just wanted to go back to bed and hide under the covers for about a year. The teachers could deal with whatever else happened for the day, I could just— My train of thought derailed as something new occurred to me. "Hey, we won the game. That still counts, right?"

As it turned out, it did still count. The other prefects herded (ha ha) us all inside and up a convenient staircase that led back into Hogwarts and then into the great hall. We were an odd lot now. By far the most common of us looked completely like ponies, but could walk upright. There was a smattering of more human-like ponies, and another group of pure ponies—the latter group, I noticed, was mostly Slytherin.

One thing was for sure, I didn't feel out of place anymore. All around me was student ponies, both big and small, but none were as unique as Hermione. She hadn't changed any further, and still had not just had hands but also a horn. 

When a white shape swooped into the room to join me on the Gryffindor table, no one seemed to notice. Everyone was too busy talking loudly—excitedly—about what had just happened. I reached a hoof up to rub Hedwig's cheek when Addera slithered over to make room for a colt about the same size as me. "Ron?"

"Yeah. Hi, Hermione, Addera. So, this all got kinda weird." Beside Ron, floating just at his shoulder, was his wand. 

I snorted. "Remember when your brothers dumped that wolfs' boon potion in the water? I swear half the school had tails that hung around for a week. We're witches and wizards, Ron, and that means we eat weird for breakfast."

What I assumed was the teachers entered the hall from a side room. Snape was easy to make out from his horn and the cloak that he had somehow found to wrap himself in. McGonagall stood tall above Snape, her witch's hat the best marker. Hooch pranced, a dead give away for who she was if her wings weren't enough already. Then another pony walked in on two legs.

The new pony looked old, but still moved easily. He walked upright and bore a mane of gray hair. When he took a seat directly beside the headmaster's seat, I knew who it was—Dumbledore. 

Another pony—walking on all fours—came out next. No wings and I couldn't see a horn from this distance. "Do you know who that is?" I asked.

Hermione pointed at them with a raised eyebrow. When I nodded, she said, "Not a clue. He looks proud of something, though."

McGonagall stepped up to the lectern and looked out over the sea of faces. "Well, we've had an exciting day—" she had to pause for the nervous laughs of half a thousand students, "—and there has been a few changes to Hogwarts. First and foremost, it seems like none of us has avoided our fate in this rampant transfiguration, but the good news is that we've established a pattern."

Clearing her throat, McGonagall gestured toward us. "Ms. Hermione Granger? Could you please come up here?"

Looking like a deer caught in headlights, Hermione looked at me, Ron, and then up to the front. She stood and clopped her way to the front of the room until she was standing near McGonagall.

"Mr. Ron Weasley, and I think Ms. Alicia Spinnet will serve as our last example. Please come up to the front." McGonagall's voice held no room for argument, not that anyone would try. Ron and Alicia walked up to the front to stand beside Hermione. "Now, Ms. Granger, please tell us what is the status of your blood?"

Everyone could hear Hermione's gasp. I expected her to be softly spoken about it, what with how much Malfoy had been ribbing her about it—or outright using it as a slur. "I'm muggle-born. That's it, isn't it? It's because—"

"Please, dear, wait until the end, but Gryffindor can have a point for your quick mind." McGonagall's tone was as warm as it got, but everyone knew Hermione was one of her favorites. "Ms. Spinnet, what is the status of your blood?"

"I'm half-blood, miss, just like half the students here—like you are." I could almost hear the smile in Alicia's voice that she was obviously wearing.

"Precisely. And Mr. Weasley, being of the prestigious house Weasley," McGonagall said with what sounded like I imagined a cat with a canary would sound like, "Is pure-blood. Isn't that right?" 

Ron must have just nodded, because I couldn't really see him over the heads of all the ponies sitting upright at the Gryffindor table. That's when it hit me what she was getting it. Muggle-born. Half-blood. Pure-blood.

"This may come as a surprise to a few of you, but I believe something about how much 'wizard-blood' you have affects how much you've changed." McGonagall's confirmation of my thoughts lit a fire in the great hall. 

Students were shouting, and I could see one—obviously a half-blood—gesturing over at the Slytherin table. "Told you! Told you my da was a wizard!" It was Dean! I laughed with happiness to see him confirmed in his beliefs. 

But Slytherin table was composed. There was few half-bloods among them, and even fewer muggle-born. What they were was united, or so it seemed. I could make out that most weren't looking toward the front of the room, but to Gemma. 

Gemma Farley looked like she'd been through a war and come out the other side. Her yellow, crystalline fur looked particularly scuffed and messed up in places, and her Slytherin-green mane was a mess, but there was a sense of power and control that poured off her. She looked toward me, and though I couldn't see her face, she nodded.

"Silence! Silence please!" McGonagall's voice was the only thing that could have gotten the room quiet again, backed as it was by amplification spells.

Ron, Hermione, and Alicia all departed the dais to come running back down to the Gryffindor table. 

"While you all did splendidly in the—ah—battle, I would like to take this moment to commend several of you for going above and beyond what was required of you. Professor Dumbledore? Please join me."

"I believe I would be delighted, Headmistress." Dumbledore stood up and approached the lectern.

"You've been a mentor to so many generations of wizards and witches that none in the wizarding world are ignorant of your name, however few have seen you quite as I did earlier. Along with a group of brave students from Slytherin house and Hufflepuff house, you saved the lives of countless students and ponies. Though I'm glad to sing your praises, Albus, I know the ponies have their own ceremony planned later." McGonagall sounded close to tears, which was a shock. I'd never heard her with so much emotion in her voice before. 

"Professor Snape?" McGonagall sounded a little more sober at Snape's name. "Please, come and stand beside me again."

"You're not going to allow this to slide, are you?" Snape asked, though he did stand up and walk up beside McGonagall.

"Of course not. Duelists who can translate their skills so readily to full combat are to be valued. I was glad to have you beside me." As soon as McGonagall spoke, Snape turned and walked back to his table.  "Ms. Gemma Farley?"

A cheer rose from the Slytherin table. Gemma was as tall at the shoulders as Snape had been, and walked confidently toward the front of the room and made her way to stand before McGonagall.

"My dear, you proved today that within the ranks of Slytherin house lie some of Hogwarts' greatest. With leadership and drive, you supported Professor Dumbledore and—when he fell—took his place in defending your fellow students. Though we aren't able to administer N.E.W.T.s, I would not hesitate in passing you for your final year." McGonagall sounded as proud as her words implied. I'd not heard this much emotion from her before.

"I didn't do it alone." Gemma's voice wasn't caught by the spell McGonagall was using, but she spoke loud and clear enough that we heard her anyway. "I don't think there was a single student out there today that doesn't deserve to be up here too. House Slytherin, house Hufflepuff, you stood in defense of your fellow witches and wizards and accounted well of yourselves. House Ravenclaw, don't think I didn't see you loosing spells like fiends. House Gryffindor, who seems to be the best seekers on and off the quidditch pitch.

"If I had to pick out some names today, of fellows who were outstanding—" Gemma looked up at McGonagall, who just nodded to her, "—I'd have to choose Harry Potter, George Weasley, Eliza O'Leary, and Katie Bell. You stood up to a monster and ensured our fight meant something."

Gemma's words incited the school into a huge cheer. She'd literally made a shout-out to every house, and some of the most popular students in those houses. To be fair, I was cheering too. What Gemma said made sense, and she seemed happy to share the limelight. 

She didn't wait to have further words. Gemma Farley left the dais to cheers and whoops of support from all four houses.

The doors of the great hall opened then, and the whole hall fell silent. McGonagall seemed quick to take advantage of everyone turning to see the ponies walking into the room. "Our new guests have arrived. I'd like to introduce you all to Princess Cadance, and Prince Captain Shining Armor."

Shining Armor, without his armor, was still a big pony, and Cadance beside him wasn't exactly small either. Together they dwarfed all the students and—when they reached the dais at the front of the room—the teachers too. 

Ron looked almost ready to pronk in place. "You should have seen 'em, Harry. We'd got overrun and them 'elmet things put on our heads, but when I woke up it was with them blasting everyone free. Their magic is amazin'!"

Apparently, Ron wasn't the only one who thought that. When the two ponies turned around on the dais to face us, cheers went up from students in all four houses.

"Firstly, we couldn't have stopped Sombra without your help—all of you." Shining paused to let another cheer grow and die back down. "King Sombra had an army with him that we didn't anticipate, but you all not only held them off, you freed them from his control. You're all heroes."





Nervousness didn't begin to describe what Princess Mi Amore Cadenza—Cadance—felt. She'd just arrived from talking with the returned crystal ponies, and had been shocked to find them excited that she would be ruling them. 

The issue there had been Cadance didn't know how to rule, didn't plan on ruling, and certainly didn't know how to accept their glowing (literally) admiration of her.

Clearing her throat went a long way toward quieting the room. The last thought Cadance had before opening her mouth was don't call them everypony. "Thank you, everyone.

"King Sombra is no more. The Crystal Heart has defeated him, and continues to spread its warmth to everypony—and everyone—throughout Equestria. Like Shining said, without working together, things would have gone very different today.

"So, in the spirit of the friendship we have forged today, I invite you all to remain here—in the Crystal Empire—for as long as you wish, though I expect you'll be attempting to return home?" Turning to look at Headmistress McGonagall, Cadance smiled hopefully.

Gemma Farley had been surprised at the turn of events. Her own little show had been essentially the icing on the cake as far as it came to getting the support of all the students of Hogwarts. That support was so in the bag now that she could ask a Gryffindor, a Ravenclaw, or a Hufflepuff for assistance and would get it without a question. With just one little speech this pony princess had both praised and laid claim to the land around Hogwarts, and no one seemed prepared to gainsay her.

What shocked Gemma most was that none of the teachers even tried. When all else seemed to be simply applauding the ponies, Gemma stepped forward. "I think it goes without saying that everyone here is thankful for the help, we'll be free of your crystal just as soon as we figure out how to move our castle, right headmistress?"

Knowing a white knight when she saw one, Minerva quickly moved over to stand at Gemma's side. "Absolutely correct, Gemma." Relief flooded in quickly that her student had managed to find the words she'd been too shocked to deliver. They had required her, however, to put Gemma Farley on a more adult pedestal than she otherwise would like a Slytherin student being. "We at Hogwarts gratefully accept your invitation, though I hope that we won't have to be an imposition for too long."

Cadance breathed a tiny sigh of relief. She hadn't expected to need to use her training in diplomacy, but finding the Crystal Empire beset by an ancient enemy and a huge quantity of school students (and their teachers) had been one problem too many, now she had a former nation of citizens who'd all looked at her as if she should lead them. "You won't be an imposition, but perhaps we should discuss this later—Your students look like they're ready for a party, and who could blame them."

Gemma's mind raced to find meaning behind the words. She could immediately tell that the princess likely had things she didn't want to discuss in front of students, and the need to find out that information ate at Gemma. When the ponies both began walking back down the hall, Gemma turned to look at Minerva.

"Thank you, Gemma, that was most appreciated. I worry about our tenuous position in more ways than just the fact that Hogwarts is now dozens of feet higher than it should be." It was a gamble, but Minerva felt being honest with Gemma was a fair payment for her assistance. "An extra set of ears—and what lives between them—would be appreciated in future discussions."

It would have been harder for Gemma to be more happy. "Of course, Headmis—"

"Please, dear, just call me Minerva."

With the noise of five hundred plus students all trying to talk over each other, Gemma Farley felt like she'd just been confirmed. "Of course, Minerva."

By the time Minerva had her seat again, she was feeling a little more comfortable with the situation. The prefects were talking with their houses and arranging their departure, and she was left with her old mentor to talk with. "You're going to tell me you told me so, even when you didn't."

"The thought had never crossed my mind, Minerva." Albus Dumbledore hadn't felt as vital—especially after a prolonged usage of magic—in nearly fifty years. "Young Ms. Farley has a good head about her." He left the words to hang as an open hook that Minerva could use to unburden herself.

"Her actions throughout all this has been one of the brighter points of the day. She put herself on the line for you, Albus. That's not something I'll quickly forget." Looking down at the hooves her hands had become, Minerva distracted herself from brooding only by thinking that everyone in the school would likely want to attend Harry Potter's class now. "I'm not convinced they are attempting to bind us with words—they're a nation, what need they have for such a school as ours I have no idea—but should it come to pass they are, I'd have someone with as sharp a mind as hers on my side."

Albus just nodded with his warmest smile, all the while picturing himself having to make the same choices. "Probably the best course. That girl has ambition and talent."

"Your advice is always welcome, Albus. I'll not forget that while we both often lack the tact needed for political dealings, your mind was always a step ahead when it came to tactics." 

"Sometimes, Minerva, I believe you overstate my abilities. I'm just one old man."

"Albus!" Minerva McGonagall actually broke into a smile. "You are never just an old man."





"… and every day he looks worse. I've got no idea what Mad-Eye is doin' to him, but I shudder to think what will be left of the half giant by the time he's got all his answers." 

Archibald Burns ignored the punctuating spit the guard took to the side, but the words he'd spoken were a worry. Inmates left Azkaban in only two ways: they got released by the Ministry, or the Dementors got excited. The prospect of an Auror (even one as famous as Alastor Moody) ending someone within the prison was not a pleasant one, but at least it wouldn't be his fault. "Mind your words. He's doing his job, lads, just like we are."

"Yeah, but—"

The guard's words cut short as the door opened and disgorged a mountain of a man onto the cold stone floor of Azkaban. The house elf of the prison, Toil, rushed up and heaved Rubeus Hagrid onto one shoulder. It should have been a comical sight, but it only reinforced how dreadful the place could be to a wizard.

Alastor Mad-Eye Moody stepped out of the interrogation room with a rolling gait. He watched as Rubeus was dragged away, then turned to look at Archibald. "Next one I wanna see is that Sirius Black. It's about time I knew the full truth of that man's misdeeds." He started to turn back to the room, then paused. "And best leave that-un to himself with as much food as he can get down, if you want him to remain an inmate."

"Y-Yes sir." Archibald turned to one of his guards. "Organize a detail to bring Sirius Black to the Auror. Now!"

"Extra rations and a free ride back to your cell. Lucky is what you is," Toil said from under Rubeus. "Talk, talk, talk! Guards don't want to be near you—won't hear."

"Well I might 's well walk then." Rubeus reached to the side and pressed one huge hand against the floor and pushed himself upright. He couldn't keep a smile from his lips as he started walking back to his cell. "I'd've never-a thought of this."

"I like this auror. He thinks like a house-elf." Toil was happy to not be carrying a half-giant anymore. "Actually, not a big compliment. Most house-elves are idiots. He thinks more like me."

"An' that's a compliment?"

"Of course! It's the best compliment!"

Sirius Black was busy putting on his best Azkaban Insane Inmate look. When the guards opened his cell door, he snapped his teeth at them and laughed riotously when they jerked back.

"This one's almost done in by the place, I reckon. Ain't been here twenty or so years an' he's already had one hug too many from a Dementor."

"What's it matter? Mad-Eye'll have his time, take his pound, and leave us a mess to clean up. Get that chain." 

"Yeah, yeah."

Playing his part as always, Sirius focused on the thought of what was coming. Mad-Eye Moody. While the guards pulled the chains in opposite directions—so that he was unable to reach either—Sirius thought of what he'd say to Moody.

The walk through Azkaban was not pleasant for any of the three. The two guards were as enthusiastic about leading Sirius Black anywhere as your average upper-middle housewife was about dealing with her husband's indiscretions, but it was their job and they eventually got the "raving maniac" to the room.

"Send him in," Alastor said from within.

Sirius charged into the room, yanking hard on the chains and almost pulling the guards holding them off their feet. They let go and slammed the door behind him. Having tumbled into a heap on the floor, Sirius looked up to find a hand thrust toward him. "Don't think I need a hand up, old man."

"I'm of half a mind to leave you here, boy. If it weren't for information about Hogwarts, I would. I've listened to all Rubeus had to say, now give me your story. Start from the beginning." Alastor's hand hovered around his hip—though he hadn't drawn his wand, he was prepared to produce it as needed. "And make a bit of noise, if you don't scream at least a bit, they won't think I'm all that."

"You'll listen to me? And if you believe me, will you see me free?" Sirius was cautious, despite everything Toil had told him about Rubeus' time with Alastor.

"If you can prove to me that you didn't turn your back on the order and join Voldemort, I'll do what I can for you, boy." Alastor circled around to the other side of the bolted-down table. Despite being deep within the fortress, moisture still clung to everything so that sitting down was its own kind of peril. "Now, out with it."

"It was all my fault." The words were—first and foremost—the most true Sirius would ever speak. "I thought it was the perfect plan to avoid betraying James, Lily, and little Harry. The great bait-and-switch. We swapped Secret-Keeper at the last minute and used Peter Pettigrew instead. I thought he'd be perfect—no one would suspect he held the key to finding them."





Peter Pettigrew was growing tired of the screaming in his head. He ran and ran to hide from the ponies that seemed to be everywhere since the huge fight ended, and finally managed to go to ground when the screaming stopped. "Are you done, m-master?"

It had all been for nothing. Ginevra Weasley clung to her lifeline that was the only part of Sombra that remained. It was like a cooling coal of warmth in an ice-cold blizzard, but it was all she had, so she wrapped herself around it like a blanket. 'We can't stay here. They'll find us.'

Peripherally aware of Peter moving again, Ginevra focused on the fractured piece of Sombra's soul. 'What am I supposed to do? I saw them defeat you, how are you still here?'

Horcrux. Safety. Take us home.

The words were so soft that Ginevra commanded Peter to stop where he was so she could hear them better. 'Home?'

Your home. My power is there. Take me home.

Along with the word—the thought—had come knowledge. A spell that would use a lot of power settled into Ginevra's mind, was instantly and completely understood by her, and was ready to cast. She just needed a supply of power to fuel it.

It was more magic than Ginevra had commanded, more even than she could feel Peter possessed. 'Find me more power.'

"More power, she says. Oh, sure, let me just find you more power laying around in a—" Peter froze. The crystalline building he'd been sneaking through was more than just a home or a schoolhouse. Pulsing, growing in the center of the building that had once been a magic scholar's research lab, Peter Pettigrew found a huge chunk of—

Crystal.

'There. What's that?' Ginevra looked through Peter's eyes as he neared the giant shard of worked crystal. It was smooth, nearly twice as tall as Peter was long, and thrummed with magic. More magic than she'd need for the spell, but that wasn't important. 'Touch it. Channel it into me.'

"It feels like fire. I-I—" Peter was trying desperately to tell his mistress that there was a good chance the crystal would kill him, but the compulsion she'd laid upon him was more power than even his self-preservation instinct. 

Slowly, lifting one hoof up, Peter Pettigrew touched the giant crystal. 

A rush of magic poured into Ginevra. The power flooded her, restoring much what she'd lost in the explosion of the Crystal Heart, but it didn't feed her as Sombra's soul did. 'I have the power. I'll cast the spell.'

A short duration hole between one reality and the next would suffice. Ginevra Wesley had access to more power than that needed, however, and rather than a little portal that would last a few minutes, she ripped a hole between worlds and blasted her destination with magic. 

Yes. Good.

While the hole grew larger and more accommodating, more magic attuned to the giant crystal poured through. It resonated and like called to like. Ginevra didn't realize, even as she commanded Peter to step through the portal, but shards of Equestrian crystal scattered around Earth all began to tremble and resonate with the magic she'd cast.

Peter was terrified. He'd never worked magic—felt magic—on this level before. There was a hurricane of magical potential swirling around his neck, and he was terrified beyond his dreams that it was his mistress who commanded it. Terrified, and delighted. 

"We need to run," Peter said as he stepped all four hooves onto the Scottish highlands, "The Ministry will know of this and will be here very soon. If you let me use some power, I can apparate us."

'Where?' Ginevra asked.

What remained of King Sombra didn't tell her, he sent her the exact destination right into her thoughts. 

He has the key to my magic. Kill him and I will be free to regrow.

Ginevra Weasley wasted no time passing the destination to Peter.