“An… incident?” Ginny asks. “What kind?”
The strange girl that had mentioned an ‘incident’ in this second-floor passage last night shrugs. “No clue. I only know they promised it was being taken care of, and wouldn’t let me past. Seems they’ve taken care-!” She freezes suddenly.
Ginny blinks, and looks.
Then, the bottom seems to fall out of her stomach.
Last night, she’d… woken up, for lack of a better term, from another episode of memory loss. The last couple times, she’d found herself covered in feathers- and this time, there was paint all down her front. It had been a nightmare to clean it off her robes.
And there, on the wall, are foot-high words, in the same green paint.
“Ahh…” the girl mutters. “We should get to class.”
She heads straight for her class as well.
She reaches class, enters the room- and freezes.
Princess Cadence looks up from her position at the head of the otherwise empty room, then tilts her head. “Ginny?” she asks. “You okay?”
Ginny takes a deep breath. Right, it’s Charms with Cadence… the class she teaches. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”
Cadence raises her eyebrows. “Want to talk about it?”
“I’m okay,” she repeats.
“How about after class?”
“I’m okay,” she insists.
Cadence sighs. “You know that’s not going to work on me, right?”
“What-!?”
Nod. “I’ve had a thousand years of experience seeing through the lies of the Equestrian nobility- and wizards are so much easier to read than those po- er, people. If you can even call those creatures people.” She shudders.
Ginny blinks. Was Cadence trying to cover up almost having called the Equestrian nobility ‘politicians’? “... Oh.”
Cadence steps over to put an arm around her shoulders, sending an oddly pleasant tingle down her spine. “Hey, you don’t have to talk to me about it. I’m the Princess of Love, not the Princess of Extortion or something. But please tell me you will talk to someone about it if it becomes serious?”
“Y- You’re the Princess of what?”
She sighs. “Of Love, believe it or not.” She looks at her other hand, idly twiddling her wand. “Honestly, it’s really not all it’s made out to be. I get to hear about everyone’s relationship problems- and sure, I enjoy helping put herds back together, or helping build new ones- but more often than not, I have to tell the poor colt his dream is a no-go.”
“How… How do you do that?”
“You’ve probably heard of the Equestrians’ unique talents?”
She blinks. “Uh, I think I’ve heard it mentioned once or twice?”
“Ahh… every Equestrian has it, discovered or not: A unique ability that nobody else has. Mine…
“I can see bonds of love, whether they’ve been realized or not.”
“Then…” She blushes furiously. This sounds like the opportunity of her life- a chance to find out if she’s destined for the super-blushable, or if all her hopes and dreams are exactly that.
Cadence raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Can… Can you not tell anyone…?”
She smiles. “Keeping secrets is on the very top of the skill list of a Princess.”
She blushes even darker. “Then… Can… Can you tell me…” She hesitates. “Is there something between me and Harry?” she blurts out.
Then she blushes as red as the setting sun.
Cadence seems amused as she looks at her… then scowls. “Ahh… Unfortunately, there’s only one thing I can tell you about that,” she mutters.
“W-What is it?” she asks.
“That is to tell you…” Cadence looks at her sadly. “To ask Lyra about the Papa Tango.”
“... What?”
“In any case, we should probably be ready when our students start showing up in five minutes, right?”
She blinks. “Ah- Oh, right! Sorry!”
“No, I’m sorry, Ginny.”
“Um,” Ginny begins, and blushes.
She can’t help it. She can’t stop herself from thinking about why she’s here- and of course, that reason is… well, blushable.
Lyra looks up at her, then her eyebrows disappear into her hairline. “Yes, Ginny?”
Her blush darkens. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again, concentrating on the specific question she’s here to ask. The question itself is not… ‘blushable’, it’s only the reason she’s asking that is.
Lyra stands up, stepping around a couple books to touch her shoulder. “You okay?”
She lets out a small gasp, stepping backwards as her blush darkens even further. “What-!? Yes I’m okay-?” She cuts herself off, mind running wild as she tries to figure out why Lyra asked that. “Why-?”
“Oh, sorry,” Lyra shakes her head, stepping forwards to wrap an arm comfortingly around her shoulders. “It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone blush that darkly, even in Equestria.”
She feels her face heat up some more- so much that she’s fairly sure Lyra could cook eggs on her face. “... Oh. Um…”
Lyra guides her gently back to a nearby couch, and sits down with her. “No rush, unless it’s important,” she states.
Then she waits.
Ginny stares at her hands, breathing deeply, for she neither knows nor cares how long. Eventually, she manages to calm her blush, and looks up at Lyra’s curious expression. “Um… I keep hearing about some kind of father dance?”
Lyra blinks. “Ahh… Father dance? You don’t happen to be talking about the Papa Tango, do you?”
Ginny scowls. “That’s what everyone’s calling it.”
Lyra nods. “It’s a codename,” she states. “It’s a magic spell- nothing to do with dancing. Well, unless…” She trails off a little, scowling to herself. “Anything in particular you wanted to know?”
“Um… About it, I guess.”
“Well, what about it?”
Ginny screws up her face. She’d expected Lyra to basically just dump the information in her lap. What information… she honestly can’t say. “Um…” She thinks back to her conversation with Cadence, even further to her conversation with that infinitely kind, pink-haired girl- who she now knows is Fluttershy. “Um…” She thinks back to that first day, in the common room, when Harry, Hermione, Lyra, and that Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, had disappeared into thin air. She’d freaked out and fled when they’d suddenly reappeared around her, but she remembers what she was thinking. “Um…”
“You have now ‘ummed’ a few times,” Lyra states.
“Three times,” she retorts instantly. Thank Merlin for her incredible memory. She looks up at Lyra. “How did you get your hair like that?”
Lyra scowls. “You know, that’s not related to the Papa Tango at all.” She tilts her head. “I can answer that question, though, if you’d like.”
She shakes her head. “No, that’s fine… but she said it was related. Something about…”
“Yeah, it’s one of the side effects of the Papa Tango,” Lyra agrees. “However, it’s easier and more reliable to get this effect by other means.”
“... Oh.” She blinks. “They said you could tell me about the Papa Tango.”
Lyra shakes her head. “Not if they were following instructions- they should have told you to ask me about it.”
She blinks again. “So they did. Now I’m asking. Can you tell me about it?”
Lyra nods. Her heart swells. “I can, but only if you ask the right question.”
Her heart seems to deflate like a popped balloon. “What’s the right question?”
Lyra shakes her head. “I Khan’t answer that.”
Ginny blinks. “You… Khan’t? Uh-”
Lyra chuckles to herself, waving a hand and shaking her head. “It’s a reference to some muggle entertainment material or another, I think. Moondancer mentioned it once, early last year. Don’t worry, nobody got it then either.” She scowls. “I still don’t.”
“... Oh. Then what can you answer?”
“Well, I can’t answer that either.”
She scowls. “Why not?”
She shrugs. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She pouts, but all she manages to do is to make Lyra laugh. “Alright, fine. Can you answer yes or no questions about it?”
Lyra nods. “Sure!”
“Um…” She thinks back to every encounter she’s had with someone with the funny hair, analyzes it. It takes her a few minutes to call up all the relevant details, through which Lyra waits patiently.
Then she looks at Lyra, and blinks. Most people interrupt her midway when she tries doing that. “Um,-!”
“Five.”
She gives Lyra a level-lidded glare. “Um, um, um, um. Umumum.”
“Sounds tasty.”
Both girls burst into laughter.
“In all seriousness, though,” Lyra grins, “You were asking?”
Ginny nods. “Ahh, yes. Does the Papa Tango… transform people… to give them that hair?”
Lyra blinks. “Ahh, Nope!”
She winces. It almost seemed like she was onto something for a second there. “Um… How about… Strength! Does it give people super strength?”
Lyra shrugs. “Sometimes, yes.”
She scowls. “How about… whatever that Rainboom thing is?”
Lyra lets out a snort. “Now that is extremely rare, but it is true, about one in three have the theoretical capacity to Rainboom.”
“Uh, wandless levitation?”
“Another sometimes.”
“How long does it take?”
Lyra shakes her head.
“Does it hurt?”
Another shake.
She pauses for a second. “Was… was that an actual answer, or…?”
Lyra nods. “That was an actual answer, yes. The Papa Tango used to hurt, but ever since I upgraded the matrices, it doesn’t anymore.” She snorts. “Or, technically, it does, but you don’t feel it.”
Ginny stares at her confusedly for a second before shaking her head. “Um, okay.” Then she turns back to Lyra. “Can you do it to me?”
“Alright, now we’re talking,” Lyra grins. “Wanna go on a quick walk with me?”
Ginny stands with her. “Uh… okay, sure.”
Lyra pats her shoulder cheerfully. “Because the answer to that last one, is yes.”
Her surroundings change. It’s so seamless she hardly even noticed- but one moment, she was in the Gryffindor common room; next moment, she’s in what looks like one of the dungeons, with all the doors locked up tight and a bunch of gold lines floating in the air.
“And this is where I can,” Lyra continues. “But before I activate it, I need to ask you a few questions.”
She nods slowly. “Like what?”
“Are you sure you want it?”
Her answer comes out instantly. “Yes.”
“You are aware it’ll give you a new, irreversible hair style and color, right?”
She blinks. “Uh, I am now. Doesn’t change my decision.”
“You are aware the result is somewhat nondeterministic, right?”
She nods. “Same.”
“You are aware the whole thing is irreversible, right?”
She nods. “As I expected.”
“And you’re still certain you want it?”
She nods. “Yes.”
Lyra closes her eyes. All the threads of golden light throughout the room suddenly burn bright, joined by hundreds of thousands more, all over the place.
Then… There’s a bang, and she’s falling… Falling…
She hears some words. They seem oddly muffled; almost like something got stuffed in her ears. She can’t figure out what anyone is saying. She’s also having a little difficulty thinking, almost like she’s only barely awake.
“G-Ginny?” someone mutters, right in her ear. It’s oddly quiet, almost like she isn’t hearing it at all. “I- I think that’s your name, at least. Did- Are you okay? Um, Ginny?”
It’s a very sweet voice. Frightened- oh yes, definitely. Absolutely terrified, about something. But possibly the sweetest, most innocent little voice she’s ever heard.
She manages to formulate a straight thought, and tries responding. Her mouth twitches, and she hears some kind of low groan; that must be her. However, somehow, she doesn’t seem to need her mouth to answer that sweet voice. “What happened?”
“You’re alive!” Relief is clear in the voice, though she’s still clearly worried about something. “I- I don’t know what happened. All I k-know… Well, I actually know nothing. Not on my own… but for some reason, I seem to have access to your memories. Your name is Ginny, right?”
She struggles to understand for several seconds, and finally comes up with an answer. “Wha… Who are you?”
“That’s the thing- I don’t know! And before you tell me to get out of your head, I’ve tried- I can’t. I think it’s just that I’m not strong enough to do that.”
It takes her only a couple seconds to understand that. “Oh. So…”
“So for the time being, I guess, I’m your imaginary friend? Er, unless you already had one?”
If her body were working properly, she would have laughed. It’s not, though, so all she managed to do was to start coughing.
“Ginny!” It’s still a bit muffled, but not nearly as bad- she can understand it. It sounds like… Lyra? Something burns gently in her chest and throat, and she suddenly stops coughing.
“Gaaah! What in the world was that!?” her… imaginary friend asks. “It tickles!”
She lets out a groan- oh hey, that works- and forces her eyes open. They seem to be really heavy- but they’re getting lighter. Her vision is crazy blurry as well, but it’s straightening out and beginning to make sense.
“Ginny, you okay?” It’s… Oh, it’s Lyra, who must be leaning over her. She’s lying on… something, what exactly she doesn’t know.
“Ugh,” she grumbles. “ ‘Mokay.”
“I’m sorry,” Lyra continues, her tone going instantly from worried to… Sorrowful? “It must have been damaged. I’ll have to check it over, possibly rip it apart and rebuild. In the meantime… I might have killed you.”
“I’m alive,” she states. “I’ll be okay.” She had to concentrate to get it to come out straight, but that’s fixing itself as well.
Lyra rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’re alive, and that’s great- but your magic matrix is unstable! If it falls apart, you die!”
“Um… I don’t think it’s that kind of unstable. I can see it- and I don’t think it’ll fall apart. Looks like it’s growing to me.”
Ginny blinks. “I’ll be okay,” she insists.
She can almost feel her imaginary friend scowl. “... Strange. You seeing this too? In your head?”
She concentrates on it… and sees what her friend is talking about. It’s… confusing, to say the least. It’s a series of images- a few of something she doesn’t understand at all… and the final one is of herself, a little older than she is now, wearing one of those mugglestuff-things and group-hugging Harry, Hermione, and that Slytherin… only the first of which isn’t wearing one.
Oh, and in that image, her hair is… Is…
She’s not sure how to describe it. It’s long, all the way down to her waist, and gently wavy… but it’s most certainly not red. Almost like she got the hair effect.
Yet most of the prior images, she somehow understands she still looks just about like she does now, though maybe a little older. “What in the world…?”
“My thought exactly,” her imaginary friend supplies. “My best guess is that this is some kind of prophetic ability.”
“Are you doing it?”
“No, that’s all you. And… Those first few, are of your magic matrix. The first couple are fairly close to my prediction of what yours will look like at different points in the future… and not outside the realm of possibility. If your matrix does match each one at some point, though, none of them are impossible- and, dare I say it, pretty likely.”
While she was conversing with her friend, Lyra spouted a series of numbers that put her survival chance around six percent. “I will be fine,” she declares.
“But-!” Lyra begins.
“I will be fine,” she declares a second time. “I can see it.”
Lyra stops to stare at her. “You can… see it.”
She nods. “I can see what it will be. I think. And it’s not broken.”
“You think.”
She nods meekly. “It’s all very confusing, but with what else I can see, what could it be?”
Lyra tilts her head. “What else can you see?”
She blushes.
“Oh, ah, nevermind,” Lyra states quickly.
“That made you blush…? Oh. OH. I get it now.” She gets the distinct feeling that her imaginary friend is blushing as well- which makes her giggle.
Lyra looks at her weird. “Uh… What’s so funny?”
She waves a hand dismissively. Her body seems to be working properly now. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Um, okay.”
“If… If this really is the future you’re seeing, um… it should be known the future isn’t set in stone. Even prophecy isn’t. And… it might take a lot of work to make these futures come about.” Her imaginary friend pauses for a second. “And I have no idea how I know that.”