//------------------------------// // The End (Of a Day) // Story: Harry Potter and the Crystal Empire // by Damaged //------------------------------// Dinner was quiet—as quiet as dinner ever is at Hogwarts—with the food serving double duty of silencing students and filling us. I still thought about what Dumbledore had said, while using magic to cut up my dinner and shovel it into my mouth. Given the day I'd had, I doubt I'd need to get any anger out before bed, but tomorrow I would, and every day after that. Chewing on a Yorkshire pudding, I looked—really looked—at the little wooden case beside me. It was empty now only because I had glasses again. Snape had used magic to set them on the table beside me when dinner started. It was great to be able to see. All the colors of ponies around the room were amazing. It was like someone had painted Hogwarts with a rainbow brush. Or at least Slytherin was. Everyone's arms, of course, were exposed, but the almost-pony types still managed to wear their uniforms, as did the half-n-halfs (like Hermione) who still had their height too. But anyone walking on all fours was unable to get clothing that fit that didn't look like a sack draped over a dog. Except for two. A colt (what Hermione assured me was the name for a small male horse) and a filly (again, Hermione with all the answers) sat beside each other on the Slytherin table wearing uniforms. They weren't just student uniforms, they were student uniforms that fit two little ponies perfectly. The colt had a yellowish face with light pink mane, and the filly had a silvery face with a grayish mane. Both looked about as smug as could be. "Harry Potter? Who are you staring at?" Addera asked, breaking me out of my contemplation. "Two Slytherin ponies. They have really fancy uniforms that fit them and everything." I gestured at them with my fork—held by a Locomotion charm. "Maybe they know some kind of clothing magic?" The filly noticed my look and smiled widely. She looked me right in the eyes and I felt a chill of recognition—I knew this pony. I knew who she was down to the deepest parts of my soul, but I couldn't put a name to her. This was going to be one of those things that eats away at you until you solve it. Was she someone I'd met among the first year students? I studied her face as she studied mine, and thought that she looked quite pretty for a pony. Gemma stole all my attention as she walked into the hall late. She made her way along the Slytherin table until she sat down right beside that filly. A first year student flanked by a seventh year and what looks like (I couldn't work out who the colt was) another seventh year. Addera made what I had to admit was the happiest sounding hiss I'd ever heard from a snake. "These sausages are rather good today. I wonder how many ponies will be eating meat now?" "Well, you've still got me and Snape, but I bet there's a lot more pork sausages for you now. Look at what everyone's eating." I had my knife and fork work together to cut up a piece of the toad in the hole on my plate, getting a good piece of sausage with it. "Salads and vegetables, but no meat. I wonder if we could have another sausage-eating contest now?" "I would win this one. I could have won the last one, Harry Potter, if it wasn't a better idea to lose." Pouring gravy from the boat we shared, Addera doused a pork sausage with it and then cut it in half with a knife. The sausage was soon lost to sight in her mouth. It was hard not to smile at Addera's simple snake bit. She was a lot smarter than she let on, and I know she enjoyed being challenged. "I need to find out more about kirin. Losing my temper all the time is, honestly, the worst. So I want to find out more about it. I need to talk to Hermione and Snape." Gulping down her sausage, Addera shivered but had a big grin on her face. "Why do you have to bring him up, Harry Potter?" "Well, of all the kirin I know about, he's half of 'em. Also, he's—he's being nice. It's like when I changed, it changed something about how he sees me. I dunno. I still need to work out how he makes these glasses." "Glasses. Glass. Harry Potter, are you sure that is glass?" Reaching up with my hooves, I carefully lifted the glasses off my face and looked at them. The frames were the same stone-hardened wood as last time, but the little defects in the glass were slightly different. I sniffed at them, and over the smell of me and Snape that clung to them, there was something almost sweet. "Can you smell this and tell me what they smell like?" Addera drew her wand and cast her own Locomotion charm and floated the glasses over to herself. Flicking her tongue out at the glasses, she gave a little hiss. "Smells sweet. Like sugar." "Yeah, that's what I got too." I reached out my hoof while Addera passed them back to me. "Why would they smell sweet?" I watched Addera lift up her plate, open her mouth, and gulp down three and a half sausages at once along with a mess of gravy. I waited for her to hiss happily and pat at the lump going down her body before asking, "Why'd you do that?" "Harry Potter, do not think to question a snake on their delight in gulping down a large meal. It is a unique delight." Picking up a napkin, Addera dabbed carefully at her lips before lashing out her tongue again. I didn't comment when she started loading her plate up with more sausages. Myself, I liked meat still, and so far I hadn't had any problems with it, but I definitely liked vegetables a little more than before. Being a wizard, I also had a healthy appetite. I got through a full plate, grabbed up enough food to make a second one, then—when it came—crammed down a big bowl of ice cream as well. The whole room was fairly quiet, much more so than normal. Even Ron and Hermione were mostly focused on eating for most of the evening. With dessert done, everyone leaned back from their meals (though the fully pony of us didn't lean far) and relaxed to speak. The normal noise of Hogwarts' great hall began in earnest. People speaking over each other, getting louder and louder, ensured every little group was in their own protective bubble of noise. "So, Ron, what was it like?" Hermione asked. "Huh?" Ron had been practicing using his hooves to hold things all afternoon, and had made a bit of a mess on the table while he continued over dinner. "What are you talkin' about?" "The helmet, Ronald." Whenever Hermione broke out Ron's full name, it meant she was slightly annoyed with him—or very annoyed, but I don't think she'd gotten that far yet. "Oh! Kinda odd. It was like it wasn't just on my head, but in it. There was a soft voice whispering things for me to do. I was just about to start doing them when it was exploded." Ron actually bounced in place with excitement. "You should'a seen 'em! They was huge, and there was so much magic I couldn't believe it!" "You think that was amazing?" Angelina said as she leaned into our conversation. "Did you see that pegasus? The blue one with the rainbow mane? I've never seen anything move that fast before. She was like a missile, and everywhere she hit a helmet would break in half." I'd managed to miss all that, of course. I'd been trying to fool the big-bad-boss into thinking I was some kind of turncoat. "When the purple unicorn—Twilight Sparkle was her name—came out with the Crystal Heart, I felt—" Hermione broke off, and I think she was actually lost for words. "Hope." Nope. Not our Hermione. There was always another adjective, noun, or verb that she could sling. Ron nodded to that. "Yeah. It felt good. Like I didn't have to worry about Sombra at all. Did you hear what McGonagall said?" When everyone shook their heads, Ron continued, "She said it was some kind of Patronus charm. What's that?" "A Patronus charm is a ward against evil. It takes a talented witch or wizard to cast, and isn't taught at all because it's thought to be too dif—" Hermione stopped her encyclopedia impersonation when Ron started giggling. "What?" Halting his laughter, but only barely, Ron seemed to strain to keep a straight face. "Nuffin. So it's an anti-evil thing? Sounds neat. What was it doing in that Heart thingy if it was originally from here?" Hermione seemed to freeze and stare at Ron as if he'd grown an extra set of eyes, or a horn (well, the last bit isn't quite so strange these days). "M-Maybe their magic isn't too different from ours?" "Yeah, but she said it was just like a Patronus. What're the chances of the same spell being thought up by wizards and ponies?" I tuned out of the conversation a little and turned my attention back to Addera. She looked almost sleepy, relaxed and smiling. "Are you okay?" "Quite, Harry Potter. It is delightful to be truly full. For that, I would defend even Slytherin house if it meant I could eat this well regularly." Addera looked a little shocked at her own words, but then shrugged and shifted her coils. I felt the touch of her tail a moment later. It wrapped around and lifted me, the tip sliding up my back to rub at my shoulders. I won't say I instantly relaxed, but a moment later my smile resembled hers. "H-Hermione?" "Harry?" Hermione blinked in surprise. I didn't think I'd interrupted their conversation, but maybe I had? "Is something the matter?" "No. Well, yes. I need to get the hang of this anger thing, and I was wondering if you could help me research it?" I mean, I could have asked her to marry me and I might have gotten a lesser reaction. Hermione's eyes widened, and I could see a tight smile grow on her lips. Hermione opened her mouth and I prepared for a flood. "There might be some books on them—you—in the library. Perhaps talking to that Ravenclaw boy again, Luna?" "Yeah. Luna. He was a girl though, wasn't he?" Ron asked. "Was," I said. "Haven't seen many others affected like that. Guess he'd be hard to find now. Was he a pure-blood?" "No idea. But if I had to guess, I'd say he's the colt over there on Ravenclaw table wearing a little pony dress." Pointing out the colt he was talking about, Ron snorted. "He's just about the only one here wearing anything like this. You know, if you'd asked me if I'd be paradin' about with nothing on before all this, I'd have thought you was mad." Looking at the colt in question, he seemed both with Ravenclaw house and apart from it—like there was something fundamentally different about him. It wasn't hard to guess what. "I know what you mean, Ron. It just doesn't come to mind, does it?" "You should try it, Hermio—" Ron didn't get any further. Hermione's horn lit up and Ron quickly found a small hunk of bread stuffed in his mouth. It'd happened so fast I'd barely seen her do it, but the whole hall had gone quiet. "I did it!" Hermione laughed, then held her hands over her mouth to cover it. But it was far too late. All of Gryffindor table cheered, and I think one of Ron's brothers set off a firework that shot into the air and twirled around. "Five points," the sharp voice of McGonagall called from the head of the hall, "To Gryffindor. Well done, Miss Granger. I'll expect a report on this tomorrow afternoon." To anyone else in Hogwarts, that would have been a dampener, but Hermione seemed to grow more excited by the prospect of homework, which only confirmed in my mind that she was not only insane, but the right choice to help me find out about kirin. "Well done, Hermione!" "Good one, Hermione. Shame about the homework." Ron, despite his words, wore a grin that told me he knew how much she liked homework too. "Now you've just gotta work on growin' some wings like the princess, eh?" When there didn't seem to be any announcements coming from the teachers, everyone started making noises and edging down the benches toward the exit. I stood up and bounced out of Addera's coils, jumped across the table and hugged her. It was the oddest thing I'd ever done in my life, but I just couldn't shake my appreciation for her support. She might be a monster, but she understood me. "Thanks." "What an odd thing to do, Harry Potter." Despite her tone, Addera hugged me back, squeezing me with her forelegs. "Shall we go back to the tower?" "Yeah. I—" "Hello, Potter." The tone and inflection was one hundred percent Malfoy, but the pitch was wrong. When I turned to face him, I froze in shock. The filly in the robes, from Slytherin table earlier, stood there with a smirk on her face. "I guess I should congratulate you on not making a mess of things this time?" I tried to think of something to say, some words to dredge up and sling back at him—her—but no one thing seemed to make it to my mouth. She didn't inspire the same amount of dread as normal, but the huge colt at her side did. He looked like a mountain up close. "W-What happened?" "Nice work, 'Arry." The big colt, by way of his voice, was revealed as none other than Lucian Bole. I should have guessed that the biggest bully in the school—literally—would become one of the biggest ponies. Malfoy turned her head (this is officially the oddest thing I've ever had happen) to Bole with an exasperated expression. "Don't be too nice. It'll only inflate his ego more than being the great Harry Potter already has." Bole shook his head. "He done the right thing at the right time. 'Sides, it was a good tactic, if a little lunatic at the end. What'd you have done if a teacher 'adn't helped?" "Actually, it was my owl that caught me. Hooch only saved Percy," I said. Before Malfoy could say something, Bole chimed in again, "Proper Slytherin thinking, that is. Nice work. Come on, Draco, we gots some more friends to make today." With that they both walked off together talking. The last thing I heard from Draco was her (still freaks me out) saying something about a snake. I turned back to the table to see Addera looking at me curiously. "Who was that, Harry Potter?" Addera asked. "That," I said, "Was Draco Malfoy and Lucian Bole." "What?" was Ron's question after a moment of shocked silence. "But that was—He was the—Who was the girl?!" "Remember what happened to Luna? Well, that, but backwards." I shrugged my shoulders, but then it hit me. My brain grabbed the memory of only minutes earlier and tossed it up for me to fixate on. She looked quite pretty for a pony. Addera's movement was too fast to follow sometimes—like now. She coiled the end of her tail around me and slithered forward so the loops lifted me up and forward. It was the oddest way to be picked up, but I couldn't really find anything wrong with it. By the time she reached the door of the great hall, she pulled me into her arms and hugged me. "You looked like you needed to get away, Harry Potter." I shifted my back and squirmed just enough to get comfortable. There must be something about being hugged that just worked right for ponies—I don't think it's a wizard thing, at least. "Before I realized who she was, I kinda…" Don't say it. "I need to go to the library and get any books I can find on kirin." "Then I shall escort you there and assist, Harry Potter." Sirius Black had been as succinct as he could with his old friend. Alastor Moody had been skilled at guiding him to only wander down the verbal paths that led to enlightenment—it left Sirius quite surprised and excited that a skilled examiner pulled the horrid tale out in its entirety. "… and that's where I was found, on the street, with the finger of the man who had betrayed my best friends, and twelve other innocents he'd just killed." "This," Alastor Mad-Eye Moody said, "Is a foul thing. An investigation of your wand would have uncovered the truth, and would have been corroborated by Albus. Why he chose to stay silent through all this is—" "Is politics. The evidence against me was too great otherwise." Sirius knew that for fact, but it still didn't feel good that his friends couldn't have helped. "If he'd have stood by me, it would only have tarnished his name for naught." "You're calm about this, lad." That calmness didn't worry Alastor so much make him curious. Laughing a little louder than he intended, Sirius shook himself to stop. "This place. Lock a wizard up and he has a lot of time to think about things. How—How's Harry doing?" "He's amazin' lad. You know he stopped Voldemort coming back in his first year at Hogwarts? Then there was all this Slytherin's Heir stuff. I expect he was somewhere in the thick of that straightening things out." Alastor couldn't keep a smile—a rare smile—from his lips. "Mark my words, that boy'll be an amazing Auror one day." "If I have my way, he'll get to be whatever he wants to. Was he in Hogwarts when it—?" "Aye. He was. That's part of the reason I'm here, not this business." Gesturing at Sirius, Alastor heaved out a sigh. "If I'd known any of this, and you can bet I would have found it if I'd been there, this —" he gestured at the prison as a whole with his wand, "—wouldn't have been your life for these past years. I may not know more about the incident at Hogwarts, but I'll see justice served." "Justice?" Twelve years of fire burned in Sirius' veins. "Justice?! Oh yes, justice would be that rat being in here—or dead—for what happened to James, Lilly, and Harry." Clenching his fists into balls, Sirius stared down, but only saw the faces of his lost friends. "In here'd be the place for him." Alastor agreed wholeheartedly with the idea, but like Sirius there was a part of him that wanted Peter Pettigrew dealt with in a far more sudden manner. Justice, however, was never served by such actions. If the wizards who'd brought Sirius had thought that, he wouldn't be alive to be freed. "I'd come here to talk to you on the assumption you were in with Voldemort. Now I see that's a broken thread in my investigation, I'll move to the next." Shoving himself to his foot and stump, Alastor Moody swung around the table nimbly while slipping his wand back inside his jacket. "You'll be back in your cell until I can have you released, though I'll leave word you and Hagrid are to be kept free of the dementors." It was a relief, but Sirius had been dodging the dementors quite effectively since teaming up with Toil. "When can you get me out?" He didn't care that his words had a hard edge to them—prison time in Azkaban gave anyone a hard edge. "As soon as I can, Lad. After I'm done here, I'll meet up with Fudge and tell him everything. You'll be out a day after that. If it were up to me, you'd be walking out with me. Who's Voldemort's highest in here?" Sirius wavered a little, the idea of freedom causing him to tremble for a moment. "You don't fear him?" "Aye. I fear Voldemort well enough. You'd be stark-raving mad not to. I just don't fear his name. Who is—?" "Bellatrix Lestrange." Rolling his shoulders, Sirius black stood upright and stretched his back. "Toil tells me she passes messages to the others. Mad as a hatter, though." "Lestrange." The name halted Alastor in his tracks. Few were the wizard or witch that would give him pause, but she was one. "Committed for life for using the Cruciatus curse on two individuals, torturing them to insanity and leaving their lad—" He had to bite back his words for a moment. "Alice and Frank—little Neville…" Clapping a hand on Alastor's back, Sirius had never felt closer to the big Auror. "These people seem to ruin not just the lives of those they touch, but their effects spread out like a tangle of spider webs." "Aye, lad. That they do. You can't be here while I put her to the question, much as you deserve to be. Cousin, right?" Reaching into his duster, Alastor pulled out a bottle and passed it to Sirius. Sirius hesitated, then took the bottle and opened it. Sniffing, Sirius pulled his head back sharply. "What do you do with this—" he took a swig and coughed once, "—use it to strip the lies from a deatheater?" Taking the bottle back, Alastor took a swig of his own and let the fiery liquid ease its way down his throat. "I'd be locked in here too if I did that. Run along now, lad, and don't forget t' pretend I kicked yer tail." Archibald jerked around as the door opened and Sirius black was thrown out of the room to slide across the floor as if dead. Part of him hoped the poor mad soul that was left of the man had died. "You're done then, Auror?" Stepping around the legs of Sirius, Alastor shook his head and spat on the ground beside the downed man's head. "Lestrange next. Bellatrix, in case you 'ave more than one of the monsters." Toil rushed over and grabbed one of Sirius' arms and began dragging. They were half a hallway distant before he spoke up. "Excellent impression of a dead man, oh yes. You want Toil's help to make it for real?" "Toil, you are the strangest friend I've ever had." Sirius smiled for real for the first time since Peter Pettigrew led Voldemort into the home of his friends. There was a reason for him to smile again. Peter Pettigrew ran like the wind. He'd never been a particularly fit fellow, even as a rat, and had never experienced the lightness of movement that came with a body built for running fast. His hooves flashed, and he galloped across the highlands of Scotland. 'This isn't leading you directly to him.' Ginevra Weasley slipped a little more firmly into Peter's mind and could feel that he was leading her in a different direction. 'He is south!' Peter feared the anger of Ginevra greatly, she meant everything to him, but he also knew in his heart that he was right. "I know! I'm sorry, mistress, but I must go north-east. The only way to reach him is if we take the portkey from—" Ginevra was instantly surprised and suspicious. 'A portkey? Where?' "Thank you! It's just on the edge of Inverness. It takes us to Tunis. That's where he is!" His words didn't silence his hooves—Peter galloped onward. "You have to believe me, I wouldn't lie to you—I can't lie to you." 'He speaks the truth, Ginevra. Trust your minion.' The voice was like black velvet across Ginevra's mind. Had she a mouth, she'd be smiling at hearing him. 'He's there, isn't he? I'll have to fight him.' His presence was like a warm candle in her mind, she couldn't help but cling close to him. King Sombra hadn't been completely obliterated before, and hadn't been absolutely sure his insurance plan would work. He could feel the piece of himself calling to greater essences in the strange world. One in particular was nearby and getting closer all the time. 'You will, but you will be cloaked in power he can scarcely dream of, Ginevra.' Ginevra was about to reply when she felt Peter stop dead in his tracks. Turning her attention outward, she felt a bitter cold flood the land nearby. She recoiled at first out of fear, but that fear was based in Peter's fear. Shoving free of her minion's mind, Ginevra faced the very essence of the dementor, not that she realized what it was. 'What is it?' No sooner did she ask than Peter screamed aloud—sounding much like a terrified horse—and started to turn. 'STOP!' 'This is power, Ginevra.' "If we don't run, mistress, that dementor'll kill us, or worse." Peter's hooves were frozen to the ground and he couldn't move. Wrenching with all his mental faculties, he held the thought protect my mistress in his head to give him the power to contemplate resisting her. 'Take it.' Ginevra Weasley reached out with her own incorporeal self to touch the dementor, and felt it drain pure darkness into her. She felt like ice was pouring into her very being, and as it did she became visible. "Mistress! You defeated it! What—What happened to you, oh great mistress?" Peter was in full grovel mode at the sight before him. Looking like an ebony-skinned, dark-haired woman cloaked in black robes, his mistress looked— "You're amazing, mistress! So powerful!" Looking over her arms, her body, Ginevra felt a little strange being in such an adult shape. 'That was a dementor?' "Yes!" 'Yes. My power.' Sombra's voice resounded deeply in Ginevra's head. She shivered visibly at the sound and smiled at having any sensation that didn't belong to the detestable Peter Pettigrew. 'You could have rebuilt yourself with it. Taken this rat's body.' 'I made the better choice, Ginevra. This beast is unsuited to bear my greatness, and besides, I gave it to you.' Sombra had not felt as predisposed to another being for many, many hundreds of years. 'Did I make a bad choice?' Ginevra struggled with her morality. Sombra had done bad things, but his cause—she thought—was just. He was misguided, she thought, With me at his side, King Sombra can be a good ruler. No breath filled her spectral chest, but nonetheless Ginevra made her body appear to breathe. 'No, My King, you made the right choice. Minion, take me to Voldemort so I may deal with him once and for all. Peter Pettigrew was excited beyond measure. With his hooves freed, he danced in place in a pony imitation of a jig. At last, he reared up in the air and galloped as hard as he could. "Yes, mistress!"