//------------------------------//
// Ch. 4 — Alley, Alley, In Come Free! 
// Story: The Triwizard Pony 
// by tkepner 
//------------------------------//


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Ch. 4 — Alley, Alley, In Come Free!




They had been searching all night, it seemed, without success. Most of the foals had gone home, and only the adults remained partying. Harry was simply not to be found. If this was a prank, it was a very poor one, the three fillies agreed. They had even dismissed their illusionary colours as Nightmare Moon, and removed the costumes. They had kept the wings to make searching easier.

«We’ve searched everywhere!» emphasized Scootaloo to Twilight. «The clubhouse, the castle, the plaza, the park, . . . everywhere!» She looked up, pleadingly, at the alicorn.

«This ain’t right,» said Apple Bloom, stomping a hoof.

«Nobody’s seen a colt pretending to be Nightmare Moon, or Harry, since he disappeared,» Scootaloo said anxiously.

«This ain’t funny, anymore,» added Apple Bloom, looking from the side of the stage at her brother, Big Mac, who was singing with the Pony Tones.

«I’m worried,» said Sweetie Belle softly, looking down at the ground.

Twilight huffed. This wasn’t like Harry. She glanced at the Pony Tones and chewed her lower lip. Could something really be wrong?

«Okay. I’ll summon him. And then he’ll explain why he’s pulled this tasteless prank.» Twilight wasn’t angry at Harry, truly she wasn’t. She was just . . . annoyed.

She braced herself. A purple glow suffused her horn then abruptly expanded outward, disappearing almost immediately. She stood there a moment, panting slightly, waiting. She held her head up, as if listening. After a moment, she frowned — there hadn’t been a return signal. «That can’t be right!» she exclaimed.

She braced herself, again. A brighter purple glow suffused her horn, and then exploded outwards. She stood there a moment, again panting slightly, waiting. She took a step back and looked around. «No, that can’t be right! I must have done it wrong!» She disappeared in a burst of light and gentle chimes.

She almost immediately returned with Spike, who had spoon of gem-dust-covered ice-cream half-way to his mouth. «Huh?» he said, blinking.

«Emergency, Spike! You introduce Octavia,» she ordered. Then she paused and pleaded, «Please?» with watery eyes. «Harry’s missing!»

«Uh, sure, yeah,» the dragon said, hastily shoving the spoon in his mouth and looking around him behind the stage.

«Oh, thank you, thank you!» she said, hugging him. «You’re the best assistant, ever!» She popped away.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders looked at each other and sighed. They could tell it was going to be a long, long night. And Harry was going to get such a talking to for spoiling the night!

Sweetie Belle looked at the still bemused Spike and sighed. «Come on, girls. I’ll get Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy, and then wait until Rarity gets off stage.” She glanced at the Pony Tones, still signing. “Apple Bloom, see if you can find your sister. Scoots, try to find Dash. We’ll meet at the castle, okay?»

The other two nodded and the three tore off in different directions — two flying, one galloping.

Spike looked around. «What happened?» he said curiously looking at the three crusader fillies as they vanished from sight. Then he shrugged fatalistically. «I’m sure she’ll tell me soon.» He sighed. «Well, Octavia must be around somewhere.» He started wandering through the backstage area.


۸- ̰ -۸


 

Harry woke with a startled gasp and jerked his head around frantically. He was lying in a large four-poster bed in a stone room with four others. The room was heavily decorated in red and gold, with a few posters on the walls. The sun was just barely streaming in the window. He sighed disappointedly. It hadn’t been a nightmare.

On the other hoof, he noted with pride, he had remembered the comfort and flexibility rune-spells correctly, and they had started to work last night just as he had hoped. No pinches, no hard edges, no unforgiving surfaces. He might have slept in night-clothes instead of armour, for all he could tell. Excellent!

Now, he only had to check the armour to see if it provided any more protection than paper.

He grabbed his glasses and looked around the room. It was much easier to see details now that it was daytime. The other four-post-beds had their red curtains closed for privacy, with the steady drone of snores coming from each. 

A wooden board was on the wall on one side of each of their beds. From the things tacked to the board, Harry gathered their purpose was so each student could personalize the area around their bed. It didn’t stop the sports posters being on the walls, though. Watching the people in the posters move still bothered him. They made him think he was always being spied upon. 

Below the board was a dresser and lamp, with a trunk at the bed’s base. On the opposite side was a wooden chair and study desk, also with a lamp. Above the study desk was a wide window with red curtains.

A yellow banner that said Gryffindor, with their lion house mascot, hung on top of their beds. The dorm itself had stone walls and stained wooden floors, naturally. There was perch and a box on each dresser. For pets, perhaps? Harry wondered.

The Nightmare Moon illusion had fallen sometime in the night. He considered renewing it, but decided that that wouldn’t be worth the effort. Besides, the spell might be unexpectedly negated at some point and his true colours and form revealed. Might as well get it over with. He would just go with his normal light-blue coat with black mane and tail.

The crash of Harry bouncing off the stone wall woke the others.

“What in Merlin’s Sack was that?” Dean demanded, sweeping his curtains open and looking around.

“Just testing my armour,” Harry said smugly. The strengthening and cushioning runes seemed to be working just fine, he had barely felt charging head first into the wall. The cardboard armour wouldn’t stand more than one or two blows in rapid succession, but it was far better than nothing.

“Don’t be cheeky,” the dark-skinned boy growled. The others had slowly pushed their curtains aside and were yawning and stretching.

Harry stood on his hind legs and launched himself at the wall, slamming into it with his muzzle up. Yep, the peytral, and belly plates were perfect, too. He had previously tested the greaves against each other. They wouldn’t stand up to a power attack, but just about everything less than that would be turned aside.

He’d have to wait out the other rune-spells — he couldn’t exactly make himself sweat without a lot of time and effort. The same for the warming and cooling spells. And he didn’t trust anypony enough to ask them to cast a spell at the armour. Especially with him in it.

Rubbing his eyes and blinking owlishly, Seamus said, “Why are you up so early on a Sunday?”

Harry looked at them. Right. He had never asked what day it was. He shrugged. “Professor McGonagall is supposed to take me to . . . ,” he stopped and frowned, “Diagonally? For school stuff.” He thought a moment longer. “When’s breakfast?” He frowned a bit deeper, and crossed his forelegs. “And where?”

Seamus and Dean exchanged looks, and gave each other sneaky grins. “Hang on and we’ll show you,” Dean declared.

Seamus, dug into his dresser, glanced back at him and said, “Why are you so . . . blue? Last night you were black and had really ace eyes.”

“That was my Nightmare Moon illusion. That’s what she looks like.”

“Merlin!” Dean said, looking at Harry. “Even in armour you look cute enough to rot my teeth and give me diabetes!” He shook his head. “You’ll have to beat the girls off with a beater bat.”

Seamus and Neville mumbled their agreement.

Harry looked at him uncertainly, not sure how to answer that.

He watched as the three hurriedly dressed. Ron was still asleep. “He could sleep through an explosion,” Neville said, after a big yawn. He stretched his arms backwards.

“According to his brothers,” Dean explained, “they once blew up his bedroom at home and he never woke up.”

Harry looked at them. “So, how do you wake him for classes and stuff?”

Seamus snickered. “Watch this.” He walked over to the bed in question and leaned close. Barely above a whisper, he said, “Ron! George is stealing your bacon!”

Almost immediately the curtains flew open and Ron was standing on his bed in his underwear, looking around frantically. “Where is he? Where’s my breakfast!?”

The other three started laughing.

Ron rolled his eyes and glared at them.

“Just showing Harry how to knock you up for classes,” Seamus said, still grinning madly.

“Not funny,” he stated grumpily, and crossed his arms. He glared down at them.

“Yes, yes it is,” said Dean. Neville nodded beside him.

“We’re going to show Harry where the Great Hall is and get breakfast. Want to come?” said Seamus as he backed up and headed for the door.

“Bollocks to that. It’s Sunday, I’m sleeping in.” He slammed the curtains closed. Well as close to slam as you can get with soft cloth curtains. “And bring me back some bacon!” came a last call. They heard him punch his pillow a couple of times.

The three boys laughed and headed for the door. Harry carefully followed them, still a bit unsteady on two hooves.

“Why are you walking like that?” said Dean, holding the door open.

Harry gave him a long look, then shrugged. “Don’t like the view from lower down.” 

Seamus, in front of them, almost fell down the stairs.

“Ah,” Dean finally said. “And why not fly? Like you were earlier?”

Harry considered what would be safe to admit. “Not exactly a lot of room in here.” He stretched his wings out. They touched the walls before they reached full extension. He’d let them think the wings were real and not illusions. And wouldn’t mention that those illusionary wings were bigger than they needed to be for full flight.

“And why the armour?”

“I don’t know anyone here. I don’t know anything about here. I don’t know who I can trust. And who I can’t. How do I know I won’t be attacked? Humans are predators and ponies are prey.” He looked at them. “In my position, would you not wear armour if you could? Besides, I have nothing else to wear.”

They had to agree with his conclusions. Especially knowing the Slytherins as they did.

The trip to the Great Hall was very informative. The Castle would have delighted Princess Luna. A hundred and forty-two staircases — some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump over — were far more than the castle in Canterlot. That they moved and changed their destinations would have had her redesigning the entire palace just to add a Grand Staircase with a multitude of moving and telescoping staircases. 

The doors that wouldn’t open unless you asked them politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, would greatly amuse her. He could imagine her setting the bathroom doors to do that just for the nobles. That some walls pretended to be doors would have made it all that much more fun. Watching a noble do the pee-pee dance waiting for a stone wall pretending to be a door to a restroom to open would amuse her to no end. Not to mention the secret passages, of which there were easily two dozen or more.

That the rooms themselves moved around the castle would have been an instant hit with her. Harry could see her using it to hide her throne room from pesky nobles while making it easy for commoners. He had to snicker. The thought of building a maze for the nobles to trot while the commoners sauntered in through a normal door was simply delightful.

He would have to remember to take copious notes on the building’s peculiarities for her. He foresaw a Castle remodelling in the future, for Canterlot.

If not for the Tournament, he could almost forgive them snatching him — just for their unique perspective on castles.

The people in the portraits, though, creeped him out. Although, using portraits as helpful guides scattered through the castle was certainly worth exploring! He would need to see how they created them. And they would make an excellent spy network — even if they did sometimes wander far afield from their normal frame. Blueblood would especially like them for keeping track of what all the other nobles were planning.

He was a bit taken aback by the squeals from the girls in the Great Hall as the four walked in. Only after his mum had ascended had he had that sort of attention, and he hadn’t expected that reaction here. Still, he was pleased to see Professor McGonagall walk in not too much later and sit at the Head Table.

He quickly learned that unless he wanted to spend his entire time answering questions instead of eating, he should let the three wizards sitting with him answer for him. They could at least answer the ones which they, themselves, had already asked.

He was also beset with an almost a constant murmur in the background of girlish squeals of delight and comments of, “He’s so cute!” as students walked into the hall and noticed him at the Gryffindor table.

He hoped he wasn’t going to be tied up in such nonsense every time he left his dorm room.

The parliament of owls that came sweeping in partway through breakfast caught him by surprise. He was unsure of their purpose until he saw many of them carrying letters and packages, which they were delivering to students. He could feel his eyebrows go up as he realized that the wizards used owls to deliver their mail. He wasn’t pleased to see an owl drop what appeared to be a newspaper of some kind to Professor McGonagall.

If the reporters here were anything like the ones in Equestria, they would be out in force almost as soon as word got out that something unexpected had happened. He would have to see if he could remember his mum’s news-reporter shield. It wasn’t something he had had to use a lot. Usually she was the one to cast it. 

He was just finishing his third helping of pastries and fruits, with his “assistants” trotting interference, when Professor McGonagall walked up. She stared sternly at the questioning students gathered around him, who quickly moved out of the way and returned to their own breakfasts. 

She studied him a moment as he looked back at her. “Your normal colours?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She gave a firm nod. “Are you ready, Mr. Sparkle?”

He nodded and swallowed. “Yes, Professor McGonagall.”

He carefully clambered off the bench and stood upright.

Harry did not need to be a seer to see that his three wizard friends wanted very much to accompany him. From the way they kept elbowing each other, each wanted the other to take the plunge and ask.

He didn’t know why they wanted to go with him. Surely they could visit the marketplace whenever they wanted, right? However, seeing how everyone had acted last night, and this morning, having company would make it easier to hide his presence. Especially because he was shorter than they were. And there was safety in numbers, and all that.

He looked up at the witch. “Professor McGonagall, would it be possible for my three friends to accompany us?”

She gave him an inquiring look. “You are the only one who needs supplies, Mr. Sparkle.” She glanced up at the Head Table where Headmaster Dumbledore was sitting. He looked back and nodded as he smiled.

Harry wondered, had he cast a listening spell towards them? He narrowed his eyes as he briefly stared at the wizard.

Harry turned back to the Professor and smiled. “That is true. However, you and I traveling alone will attract more attention than if I am in a small group of students. Especially as they are all taller than me.”

She looked at him, then cast a critical eye on the other three. 

Dean hazarded a hesitant, “We all three have permission slips for Hogsmeade.” He glanced, briefly, at his two friends. “And that’s unsupervised.” They tried to look hopeful and innocent. 

She looked back at Harry and pursed her lips. “Very well, Mr. Sparkle.” She turned back to the other three, who scrambled from their seats, to the envy of those close enough to hear what had just transpired.

“You will behave, or there will be consequences.”

They all three nodded and murmured, “Yes ma’am!”

They exited the Great Hall just as a small mob of blue-dressed students sauntered in the castle’s front doors. Most were shivering slightly. From what he overheard, they were all Beauxbatons’ students. Behind them was a group wearing furred and heavier clothes, obviously more suited for a colder climate. They had to be from Durmstrang.

And they never noticed Harry as his three friends blocked their direct view of him. He quickly silenced his hooves, and got a glance with an uplifted eyebrow from the Professor. No one would hear the distinctive clip-clop of his hooves over the shuffling of the leather shoes his dorm-mates were wearing.

It was a quick march to the Headmaster’s office. “There are several places we need to visit, Mr. Sparkle,” she said as they walked. “First, we shall go to Gringotts and withdraw the funds you will need — I have your key. Next, we will visit Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, Potag’s Cauldron Shop, Slug and Jiggers Apothecary, and Twilfitt and Tatting’s – a wizarding clothing shop. You will also need a trunk. We shall save Ollivanders for last.” She stopped in front of the Gargoyle. “Dum Dums.”

The other three were wide-eyed as they entered the office. Probably their first time seeing the inside of it, Harry decided, noting their expressions. They stared at all the odd silver things making noises, the many books, and the walls covered with stern-faced and disapproving portraits of former Headmasters.

The professor guided them to the fire-place. “I presume you three know how the floo-connection works, correct?” She stared down at them gravely.

Still staring around, they all nodded.

“There’s the floo-powder,” she pointed to a bowl. “The destination is ‘The Leaky Cauldron.’ Wait for us. I’ll come last to make sure there are no problems.” She turned to Harry. “Watch what they do. You take a pinch of the floo-powder and toss it into the fireplace.” Seamus demonstrated. “Take a breath, and then, when the flames turn green, step into the floo and say your destination in a clear voice. Do not inhale in the fireplace, or you’ll get a mouth or nose full of ash.” 

Seamus disappeared from the fire-place with a whoosh!

Harry carefully observed his friends as they entered the fireplace, one by one, and disappeared. When it was his turn, he reached into the pot and took out a tiny amount of powder with his magic. 

He took a deep breath, tossed the powder into the floo, and said, “The Leaky Cauldron,” as he stepped inside the fireplace. The room disappeared behind him in a burst of green flames.

He immediately began to spin to face a long series of fireplaces, each flashing by him just slow enough for him to catch glimpses of rooms and stores. They flew by faster and faster, and he spun faster and faster. Then he felt himself start to slow down. He was suddenly thrown toward the last room he could see, head first. He bounced off something soft, and hit something hard, creating two crashing sounds as someone fell and something else fell over.

For a moment, he lay on the floor and stared around at the place he had arrived.

It was a rather dark and shabby place, a tavern of some kind, if he had to guess. To one side was a bar, with a staircase to the next floor at one end. At the other end was a wide door to the back. The kitchen, he would have to guess. On one wall was a huge fireplace, out of which he had just been ejected. The other wall had a door near the staircase.

There were several people inside, including a grumpy-looking, bald barman, who was shaking his head at Harry’s entry to his place of business.

Neville slowly got to his feet, with Dean to help pull him up.

It was only when Harry pushed himself to his hind hooves that anyone began to react.

“Blimey! A horse?”

“Is that armour?”

“Is it a pet?”

“It’s blue?”

By this time, Professor McGonagall had exited the fireplace and was looking around. “Are you alright, Mr. Sparkle?” she said solicitously. She waved her wand and the chair righted itself up and slid back to its table.

Still a bit disoriented, he crisply said, “I’m fine.” He leaned one hoof on the chair-back.

Seamus had stepped up beside him. “Are you sure, Harry, that was quite a fall you took there.” 

Dean gave a rueful laugh and shook his head. “I’d say someone had pranked the floo if we hadn’t just come through it.”

“Not even a bump,” Harry said. “That’s what the armour is for, don’t you know.” He looked over at the barman and tried for his best Blueblood impression. “I’m terribly sorry for the bother, sir. I hope you’ll excuse me?” He bowed his head, not daring to bend further for fear of falling.

The man just stared at him, then nodded slowly.

“Blow me!” said someone in the room, “Tha horse speaks better’n I do!”

Harry turned towards the voice and saw a man in a top hat at the far end of the bar. “I am a unicorn, sir, not a horse,” he gently corrected. “The latter is somewhat considered an insult to my kind.”

The man nodded carefully. “ ‘Course you are. I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

“No insult taken, sir, you could not have known.”

Professor McGonagall interrupted, taking control of the conversation. “Excuse us, Tom. Mr. Sparkle here is a visiting student at Hogwarts, and I’m taking him to the Alley for his supplies.”

The barman, Tom, it seemed, waved them to the door at the back of the room. “ ‘Tis alright,” he said. And watched as the five of them exited the pub into a small, enclosed courtyard with a dustbin.

Harry could hear the bar patrons starting to gossip as soon as they entered the courtyard.

“Now, Mr. Sparkle, you go to the dustbin and count three up,” she pointed her wand at the three bricks, “Then count two across,” she moved her wand over two bricks. “Then tap it with your wand.” She did so.

The brick wriggled. Harry watched as it made a small hole by moving back. Then the surrounding bricks began to wriggle and twist. For the first few bricks he could track the magic, but he was quickly overwhelmed. In seconds there was a wide archway.

The professor glanced down at Harry. “Welcome,” she said, “to Diagon Alley.”

They stepped through.

Harry was amazed. This was as unlike Ponyville or Canterlot as you could get. Canterlot featured wide, bright roads of white brick and marble. Ponyville was a country town, again with wide and welcoming streets. Diagon Alley, by comparison, was a grey and brown cobble-stone street that twisted and turned out of sight, with stores pressed close to prevent any sort of cart traffic. Being a Sunday, there really wasn’t that much traffic, yet, and many of the stores were still closed.

He turned and watched the wall closely as it restored itself. He nodded in satisfaction. He didn’t know the rune-spell, but it would be simple for his mum to reverse-engineer it with his description. For certain covert rooms, it would be the perfect solution. Impossible to pass through without obvious destruction, easy to open with the proper key to trigger the reaction, impervious to unlocking spells, and nothing visible to suggest it was anything more than just a wall. And the trigger could be customized to a certain pony or ponies.

Blueblood would be delighted. As would Princess Luna.

“Most of the stores will be open by the time we get to them, Mr. Sparkle,” Professor McGonagall said briskly as she led them down the street towards. “Gringotts, however, never closes.”

It was a difficult walk for Harry. Cobblestones are not friendly to pony hooves, making the hoofing — footing, people would say — more than a little precarious. Fortunately, his magic helped him keep his balance.

The only annoying part was that he was shorter than his companions. He had to keep shifting back and forth to look between them. On the other hoof, it meant what few people there were in the marketplace had just as much difficulty seeing him. Except they weren’t looking for him in the first place, so he easily escaped their notice.

The Goblins outside the bank were more attentive. They gave him long stares, just as he gave them the same. They looked somewhat like the Gremlins at home, he decided, but not quite. Still, they gave him the impression they were going to watch him closely. Probably because he was wearing bespelt armour.

They bowed and opened the doors. Using magic to assist, he, too, bowed. Just by the way they stared at him with narrowed eyes, he knew they were surprised.

The trip to the vault was fun, Harry decided. He would definitely be recommending one of these to the Princess Sisters. When the vault door opened, all he could do was stare. As did the Dean and Seamus. Neville merely looked interested.

“Blimey!” said Dean, “You’re rich!”

Professor McGonagall sniffed. “The Potters were a wealthy family,” she said quietly.

Harry took the bag she offered and started filling it with coins. He had no idea what they were worth, except, as his friends explained, the gold-coloured ones were galleons. Seventeen of the silver ones, sickles, made a galleon. The bronze ones were knuts, at twenty-nine to a sickle, four hundred and ninety-three to a galleon. He selected only the galleons.

When the bag was full, he started scooping coins up and filling his friends’ pockets. “It’s not like I have any pockets, you know,” he explained.

“That’s more than enough for today, Mr. Sparkle,” the professor said firmly.

Harry stopped and looked at her. “How much do we need?”

She stood a moment, calculating. “A hundred should be more than enough.”

He looked at his friends. They had been to the Alley many times, already, and knew the cost of goods. They nodded. He glanced at the bag she had given him. It probably had a couple of hundred, at least. He had off loaded maybe another hundred to each of his friends’ pockets. He looked around the vault. He had barely made a dent in the piles. He nodded. “Okay.” He needn’t worry about exhausting his funds any time soon.

What he had should suffice until he could return.

The trip back to the lobby was just as quick as the one to the vaults. He and his friends enjoyed it quite a lot, actually. Under their repeated urgings of, “go faster,” the Goblin had scowled and said, “One speed only.” But the trip back did seem to be quicker than the trip down.

As Professor McGonagall had said, their first stop was the robes store. He held back as the others went in front of him. He didn’t want standard robes, but robes that would let him cast his wings spell without complication — be prepared, and all that. 

So, while she looked over to the proprietor, he cast the wings spell as quickly as he could manage as he held the door open. The magic swirl and bright flash that usually accompanied the spell’s completion was partially hidden by the sunlight coming in the door. Being mostly outside helped hide it, as well. And the people outside would think the flash they had seen came from inside the store.

Still, he noticed the professor giving him a hard look. He gave her back the innocent “Who? Me?” look that the Cutie Mark Crusaders had perfected as he walked in. His friends had barely glanced at him.

Like Applejack, she gave him a look that said she wasn’t as convinced of his innocence as he claimed, but she didn’t say anything.

“A pony, you say?” the woman said to Professor McGonagall — no, he had to remember the woman was a witch.

“No,” Harry said, walking closer to the shopkeeper. He again trotted out the cultured voice Blueblood had drilled into him. “I’m a pegacorn. A pony with a wings and a horn.” He stepped over to her and held out his hoof. “My name is Prince Harry Potter Sparkle.” She appeared startled at his name, and hesitantly held out her hand. He gently lifted it with his hoof and kissed the back of her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, madam.”

She blushed a bit, unsure of how to take his mannerisms. “And I am Pricilla Malkin,” she said softly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” 

She waved him to follow her. “Please step back here where we can begin fitting you,” she said, firmly, and led him to a small area in the back with mirrors. 

She had probably never made anything for anyone other than a human, before he thought. And definitely never for anyone with wings. Although his showing the wings spell-matrix to the twins last night was probably going to change that, as word began to spread. Perhaps he should warn her? Give her time to prepare? Maybe create a little goodwill for himself?


۸-_-۸