//------------------------------// // 7. First Impressions // Story: Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student // by Georg //------------------------------// Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student First Impressions Confusion made Sweetie Belle tangle herself up in the sheets as much as her awkward human limbs, the unfamiliar nightclothes, and waking up in a strange bed. Her fingers bent the wrong way and toes stubbed on everything, but she escaped the bed, gathered her wits about her on the bedroom floor, and headed for the bathroom for the next challenge. Even holding her toothbrush with both hands and making sure all of the teeth in her odd-shaped mouth were brushed was a new exercise in patience, which at least was workable due to human flexibility and some squinting in the mirror at the strange human making faces back at her. Breakfast was already underway when she came downstairs, sliding some on the steps because her stockings only contributed to the unstable footing of being on only two legs. The Ministry humans were hustling around, checking their pocketwatches and getting ready for work with barely enough spare time to pat her on the head. In the middle of the chaos, Galloway promised that she would bring back some of the Animagus books from her department that evening for her to study in the relatively few days she had before school at Hogwarts was to start. Then the short witch had to hurry to catch up with her group, vanishing into the oversized fireplace with a cry of ‘Ministry Grate Fourteen’ to a suddenly empty house. “In here, Sweetie,” called out Miss Selkirk from the kitchen. “I brought some of my daughter’s school books out so you can do some reading, as well as the Ministry’s old ‘So You’re A Wizard’ book from the Sixties. If nothing else, you’ll get a kick out of the clothes. Oh, and I made oatmeal. Do you like oatmeal?” Sweetie dashed into the kitchen and slid across the waxed floor, which was one use that colorful socks were very good for. The oatmeal was more sugared than her sister Rarity ever let her flavor it, so she added another spoonful of brown sugar just because, and topped it off with minced strawberries. Miss Selkirk was doing the dishes with her wand, giving it little flicks and twitches that made the dirty dishes from the boarders take a quick splash under the faucet before vanishing into a box under the cabinet that she called a Muggle Dishwasher. “Thank you, Sweetie.” Miss Selkirk gave one last twitch to her wand, which set the concealed mechanism to growling and hissing, doing whatever it did to clean the dishes. “It’s always such a rush before they head off to work. Well, I have some paperwork to complete while you’re reading,” she explained. “The house copy of the Daily Prophet is scattered around here, and you can see if the wand works for you now that I’ve warmed it up?” She most certainly did want to try, although Sweetie still could not get the wand to behave any differently than waving a stick of the same size. She wiped her sticky hand off once all the fruitless waving was done and watched Miss Selkirk use the wand to bring several stacks of paper over to the empty table. Sweetie loved to read. A few hours spent in a sunbeam with a book was a wonderful pastime, one that she shared with Princess Twilight Sparkle, although not nearly to the same intensity. And there was so much to absorb in this new place, from newspapers with actual moving pictures to all of Miss Selkirk’s old schoolbooks. They even made a trip upstairs to the attic nook where Miss Mouser, her pet owl lived. The lessons that Fluttershy taught her about caring for animals came in handy, so to say, as Miss Mouser nibbled an owl treat out of her palm and made several pleased noises in return. “Oh, and we have a letter,” said Miss Selkirk, snatching the envelope away from the bottom of the small nook where a few dry owl pellets still needed to be swept out. “Silly bird, she doesn’t always bring them down in the morning because of all of the people bustling about.” “Sometimes we don’t get the mail for days in Ponyville,” said Sweetie Belle. “Or if we do, it’s for somepony else and we have to go trade letters until we find ours.” Miss Selkirk did not seem to be listening, because her eyes were darting back and forth across the page. “Oh, my. It looks like we have another school boarder dropping by unexpectedly. A relative of a relative of my—” she hesitated almost imperceptibly “—husband. I should have gotten this yesterday, silly old owl.” Miss Mouser fluffed her grey feathers and settled back down into her interrupted nap while her two interlopers climbed back down out of the attic owlery. The rest of the morning was a blur of motion as Miss Selkirk used her wand to clean the house and tidy up the bedding of the two guest rooms. Then it was time to wait, because the letter did not say exactly how the new Hogwarts student would be arriving, and Miss Selkirk did not want to be waving a wand around if a Muggle were to walk through the front door. “My husband and the Lilley family go way back, although we haven’t seen much of each other for years. We’ll give you each a room of your own, but if we wind up getting a Muggleborn boy here before school starts, I hope you won’t mind sharing your room with Sparrow. Hopefully we don’t get too many students, because I could never do an Undetectable Extension charm on the house to add another bedroom on this short notice.” “Did the Lilley family go to Hogwarts school too?” Sweetie Belle put a finger in ‘Hogwarts - A History’ to keep track of her place. “Oh, a few of his bunch did, for a couple of years at least. Some were taught by their families and some by one of the locals. I don’t think there’s a town full of wizards in all of Ireland that doesn’t have an aspiring know-it-all retired from somewhere who makes the odd galleon or two teaching students on weekends. It doesn’t take a Hogwarts education to raise a powerful wizard. Helps a lot, but some of the weediest looking runts with hand-me-down wands have defeated the Ministry’s finest gentlemen.” Miss Selkirk gave a low chuckle. “Of course, the Ministry doesn’t send just one Auror after a powerful troublemaker.” Instead of the doorbell ringing as they expected, the fireplace in the other room gave out a low whoosh of Floo powder and two sets of footfalls could be heard on the dining room’s wooden floor. “Donna? Miss Selkirk?” sounded a deep, friendly voice. “Coming!” Sweetie followed the middle-aged woman into the dining room, where she was greeting two humans who had just stepped out of the fireplace. “You must be Ruadh Lilley and Sparrow.” The way Miss Selkirk rolled the beginning of his name made it sound more like ‘Rrrruadah’ to Sweetie’s ear than the name had looked on paper. It suited him, because at first glance, the stocky man looked like he sounded, projecting a warm sense of friendly affection for everypony. A second, longer look showed a number of scars that were mostly covered up by a long-sleeved sweater, except for a thin white line down the curly red hairs of his bearded cheek. Sweetie had seen enough humans so far to know that Miss Selkirk was about average size for her age, while most males tended to be taller than her. Ruadh was not so much short as compacted into a denser form, with broad shoulders and a stocky neck, making him barely come up to Miss Selkirk’s shoulders. Sparrow was very much the opposite, looking just as young as Sweetie Belle but quite nearly taller than her uncle, with no signs of slowing down. Her arms stuck out of sleeves that she had outgrown already, and her blue trousers showed much more sock than Rarity would have ever tolerated in any creature who wore pants, so it was possible that Sparrow had undergone a recent growth spurt. Both uncle and niece had red hair, although Ruadh’s dense curls were cropped short both on top of his head and his square chin, while Sparrow’s longer curly hair hung down just past her ears, tinged at the front with a yellowish highlight that could not have been natural. There was a lot of Rarity’s influence in Sweetie Belle, because the first thing that she thought of was how to properly style and curl that tempting length of human hair into an appropriate mane, and if the uncle could be persuaded into growing his tight curls out for similar styling also. Admittedly, it could be as difficult as taming Pinkie Pie’s wild mane back in Ponyville, but both of them had a hidden beauty that just sang out to Sweetie, begging to be set free with a few hours in a spa. “Call me Rudy,” said the hefty redhaired man, who stifled a chuckle at the way his niece was still vigorously shaking Miss Selkirk’s hand. “And who is your young friend, Ma’am?” “I’m Sweetie Belle,” said Sweetie, extending her hand only to have Sparrow grab it with both hands and shake. It was a lot like a Pinkie Pie introduction, since Sparrow promptly followed the handshake with a long string of words that encompassed her life history, how cool traveling by Floo powder was, how much she was looking forward to going to Hogwarts, if they had dragons there like her uncle’s house, how she wanted to get a broomstick all for her own, and if Sweetie had a wand. “Calm down, little lady,” said Ruadh when he managed to find a spot to squeeze into the one-sided conversation. “Miss Selkirk, on behalf of the Lilley family, we owe you a debt of gratitude. It’s a busy season in the northlands. Something’s got the Welsh Greens all riled up, an’ a bachelor's home out in the hills is no place for a proper young lady.” Sparrow stuck her tongue out from behind her uncle Ruadh’s back. “We really did not get much information about your niece in the letter,” said Miss Selkirk. “I hope everything is all right at her home.” “Nothin’ too serious,” said Ruadh. “My brother got caught on base during a security lockdown, on account of some trouble the Yanks have stirred up. So instead of him this mornin’, I moved me schedule around and dropped over to give my favorite niece a lift.” He lowered his voice and put on a conspiratorial tone. “I’d let her stay with me for a few days until the Hogwarts Express is ready, but I’m afraid she’d frighten the dragons.” “Uncle Rudy!” Sparrow balled up her hand into a fist and hit him on the shoulder, which did little more than raise some dust from his thick coat. “One of my friends is a dragon,” blurted out Sweetie. “He brings my sister chocolates, which she can’t eat because she’ll get fat, so she just eats the caramel ones and lets me have the rest of the box to share with my friends.” After saying it, Sweetie noticed Ruadh giving her a questioning look. It was a little confusing because Spike had told her all about dragons in Ponyville, and she had even met Dragonlord Ember, so there must have been something different about them in this world. Maybe dragons didn’t even like chocolate here, or disliked having their spines scratched. Ruadh shook off his momentary confusion and took a small key out of his pocket for Miss Selkirk. “Anyway, my niece doesn’t have any of her Hogwarts things yet either and I’ve got to get back to work. I’d be obliged if’n you would pick them up for her too. You can have access to my vault, since my brother didn’t send much in the way of wizarding money on account of… well…” “Dad’s a Squib,” said Sparrow. “That means he don’t have much magic, and my mother doesn’t have any, since she’s a Muggle.” Ruadh shook his head. “She knows, dearie my lass. And you should be a little more discreet when discussing wizardly matters.” “Sorry, Uncle Rudy.” Sparrow rolled her eyes behind her uncle’s back, but gave the human a kiss on his cheek when he turned to go. “Thank you again, Miss Selkirk. And stay out of trouble, Matchstick, if you can,” he cautioned, vanishing into the fireplace with a green blaze of Floo powder just like the house’s boarders. “Well, that was interesting,” said Miss Selkirk, tucking a bit of her loose hair behind her ear. “Sweetie, why don’t you show Sparrow upstairs to her room, and then the three of us can go shopping this afternoon.” Sparrow squealed with joy and practically towed Sweetie Belle up the stairs. - - Ω - - Shopping was awesome! Rarity had taken her little sister all over Equestria to some of the biggest cities there were, or at least that was what Sweetie Belle had believed until now. London made them all look tiny by comparison. It had malls bigger than her hometown of Ponyville. And people wore all kinds of clothes everywhere and for every occasion. Admittedly, the malls did not have the kinds of clothes that Miss Selkirk said were worn as school uniforms in Hogwarts, but by the time the three of them had finished with shopping for the rest of the casual Muggle clothing they were going to need for school, Sweetie Belle had found a friend. She just wasn’t too sure Sparrow Lilley had found her as a friend in return. The human girl was full of energy, but it went everywhere. They bounced together from outfitter to outfitter to get matching knapsacks (despite Sweetie Belle still having the one Professor McGonagall Transformed for her and the mottled brown and tan one that Sparrow had brought with her), to visiting a video game gallery filled with a cacophony of sound and overwhelming flashes, to sampling snacks at the food court, to begging Miss Selkirk to let them visit the stables in London in order to see the horses. The trip was a side-effect of telling the hyperactive girl about Sweetie Belle’s unicorn-ness, because the questions came even faster afterward. She wanted to know everything about Equestria and Ponyville and Sweetie’s friends there, and the horsey surroundings of the stable were supposed to be the perfect place to do it. Sweetie Belle was a lot more interested in the Earth horses. They were huge, larger than Princess Celestia even, although dumber than any Equestrian animal, and not for eating, as Miss Selkirk was very specific about pointing out. The horses did seem to recognize Sweetie’s base equine nature, and were more than willing to share a warm slobbery nuzzle, as well as remain placid and calm while the two girls took a short ride. It was an experience even stranger than standing in front of the Wizengamot, and a lot more fun. And although she wanted to shift into her unicorn form after the brief ride and repeat the course, just to tell the differences in how it felt, Sweetie restrained herself. Restraint was not a word that Sparrow Lilley knew very well, but she could certainly talk her way into or out of things with ease. After their trip to the human stable and horseback ride, she managed to convince Miss Selkirk into going to another mall where they saw a human movie instead of just going back to the boarding house. Patience was another characteristic Sparrow lacked. She even got up three times during the movie to use the bathroom or get more popcorn, missing the place where the monster went racing through the town, eating cars and helicopters. It bothered Sweetie more than the violence of the movie, although that bothered her too. Even the games the humans played were full of violence, like the small collection of video games in the movie theatre lobby where humans shot electronic aliens, zombies, and weird things she could not describe in her quick notes to her friends in Equestria. The difficulty in putting her experiences into words lasted after they returned to the boarding house for sandwiches before bed — tomato and cheese for Sweetie Belle and cold cuts for Sparrow Lilley — leaving Sweetie with the pen in her mouth, pondering an empty page in the magic diary. “Hey, Ponygirl!” Sparrow bounced into the bedroom and dropped onto the bottom bunk of the bed next to Sweetie Belle, rump-first. “What’cha up to?” “Writing back to my friends in Ponyville. What?” added Sweetie. “Why are you giggling?” “It’s just… Ponyville? That’s like having a town called Humanville. Anyway, I don’t have a plug in my room. Is there one in here? “Plug?” “For my laptop computer.” The human girl opened up the flat black bag and produced the strange device. “The batteries are almost dead, and there’s no phone in my room, so I can’t get online. It’s like living in the stone age.” “Oh, neat!” Sweetie Belle ran her fingers over the device while listening to Sparrow describe what each part did and how cool it was. Afterwards, she rested her fingers on the keys and pretended to ‘type’ out what she had been writing to her own friends. “So how many friends do you talk to on this computer thingie?” “Dozens. We’ve got this guild on Ultima Online and all kinds of crafters, but most of them are old and just sit around and talk all day instead of going out and slaying dragons or exploring dungeons because of the lag and bugs.” Sparrow held up an odd piece of metal on the end of a cable. “I’ve even got an adaptor for the weird British power, but no phone. I wonder if they have phones in Hogwarts.” Sweetie Belle perked up. “I know what a phone is. Twilight Sparkle talked about them, only the human world she went to is different than this human world, so maybe the phones are different too, I suppose.” Sparrow dug a small device out of her pocket and opened it up. “Like this?” “Wow.” Sweetie picked it up and turned it over a few times, looking at the screen and the tiny keyboard full of human letters. “Twilight said you can call anybody in the world or send them messages like my book, only better. How many friends do you talk to on this?” “Lots.” The young girl took her phone back and began poking buttons. “Most of the time, I just text my parents because it’s expensive. Here, I’ll tell my mother I’m back at Miss Selkirk’s house.” The tiny letters of the message showed up on screen, followed shortly by her mother’s short response, “Lv you BB gurl. B gud4skul.” “Neat.” Sweetie Belle squinted at the screen. “What language is that?” “American. She said she loves me, and that I should be good at school.” Sparrow made a face. “She’s probably still on base, messing around with the flight crews. They won’t let her fly anymore since she’s a couple months pregnant. I thought that would let us spend more time together, but she’s been catching up on training and working on all the ground stuff so they won’t keep her grounded after my brother is born.” “She can fly?” Sweetie Belle wrinkled up her nose while thinking, but the phone chimed again before she could ask about the obvious contradiction. “Hey,” said Sparrow, cheering up as she looked at the tiny screen. “She says my dad might be able to get off work a few hours tomorrow morning to help us shop for our wizard stuff. That’s cool!” “Cool’s good, right?” “Yeah, cool’s awesome.” Sparrow gave Sweetie a light punch on the shoulder. “You’re cool. Miss Selkirk’s kinda cool. I dunno about this Hogwarts place yet, but it has to be some kind of cool or all the Brits wouldn’t send their kids there.” “Miss Selkirk has a book on it,” chirped Sweetie Belle. She bounded out of the door with Sparrow close behind, located the thick tome in the spare bedroom’s stuffed bookshelf, and pulled it out with a grunt. “History of Hogwarts,” she announced proudly, flopping it open to her bookmark a few chapters in. “Maybe we can read it tonight and you can tell me what all the strange human terms are.” “Pass!” declared Sparrow, although she poked through the bookshelf too, eventually turning away with a scowl. “Not even any comics. Well, I better hit the hay, then. ‘Night, Sweetie.” “Goodnight, Sparrow.” Sweetie Belle watched the slender girl bounce down the hallway and into the other spare bedroom, feeling more than a little let down. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom used to love to stay up at night and read when they stayed over, although they always did more talking than reading. Still, Twilight Sparkle had taught Sweetie about the differences that made friends even closer, and there certainly were a lot of differences between them, as well as similarities. She had a whole year in the human land, so there was not really any rush. Even so, it felt like a little slice of home to bring the heavy book back to her bed and read about Hogwarts history. There were so many witches and wizards who had struggled to bring order to the chaos of that time, and Sweetie hid the book under the covers when Miss Selkirk came by to tuck her in and blow out the lamp. Once she was sure there was not going to be a surprise return to make sure she was really sleeping, Sweetie got the history book back out and resumed reading. Without a light source, she had to shift back into her unicorn form, which was a more natural way to read in the dark anyway. Somewhere several chapters further in, the book became too heavy to hold, and Sweetie Belle slipped off to sleep, imagining the sounds of her friends chattering away in the background. - - Ω - - Theodore Nott had set his alarm. He was quite sure of it, because the spell controlling his squat garden-gnome clock had required recalibration last night for his new location, and he had been forced to estimate some of the settings. His room in the crystal castle was supposed to be secure, but he had put an entire set of security spells across all the windows and doors anyway to ensure no witch or wizard intruder could possibly— Oh. Ponies. The faint rustling that had woken him continued, mixed with a quiet clunking from the bathroom area of his suite. One thing for certain, the Equestrians believed in size for their guests, both by the two smaller beds they had pushed together to make sufficient space for his larger frame and the cavernous quarters he had been assigned. It was larger, better illuminated, and far cleaner than anything the Slytherin House had managed in the dungeons of Hogwarts, larger in fact than the entire first year boys dormitory, but inhabited by far different creatures. Theodore opened one eye. Two large emerald eyes gazed back, filled with curiosity and eager anticipation. The young pony they belonged to was a feathery pale green, with a coat nearly the shade of a fluorite-coated telescope lens and carrying much the same translucence. All of the rest of the hairs on her body mirrored the shimmering effect, from her long lashes to her tail and mane, which had been curled and primped until it was nearly a hat of its own perched on top of her head. Theodore had seen the ‘crystallizing’ effect in other ponies around the castle, supposedly a simple surface refraction caused by magic, but to observe it at such close range on a tiny pony with an unbelievable cuteness level held him transfixed with wonder. The foal’s dainty mouth opened in a silent ‘oh’ as she watched Theodore, then she turned and called, “Mama, the human is awake.” A second voice, much older but with the same exquisite musical pitch of the ponies, floated out of the bathroom. “Don’t disturb him, dear. I’m almost done with the towels.” The adorable young face turned back to Theodore, and after a few more moments of intent observation, the little filly asked, “Am I disturbing you, sir?” “No,” managed Theodore. He yawned and sat up in bed, although he abruptly pulled his silky sheets up around his chest. “Where’s my nightgown! Where are my shorts!” At least his wand was still under the pillow where he had put it, and a quick ‘Accio shorts’ spell brought most of the contents of his underwear drawer cascading across the bedcovers in a vibrant display of colors. He grabbed a pair of red plaid flannels and had just started putting them on under the blankets when a pale pink mare trotted out of the bathroom and stared in horror at the mess. “Fluorescence!” she scolded. “What did you do?” The accusation made the little filly’s eyes grow wide and tears start to form. “I’m sorry, Mama!” “Don’t… Just a moment, ma’am,” managed Theodore while trying to get his other leg into his underwear while staying under the blanket. “Something stole my shorts last night.” “Oh, no!” The pink mare’s shimmering eyes grew even larger than her daughter’s, and Theodore could feel something deep in his chest give out a sharp twang. “I’m sorry, Mister Nott!” she blurted out. “It’s just you went to bed in your clothes and were getting them all wrinkled, so we whisked you out of them and sent the whole bunch off to be laundered. I’ll get these cleaned up right away, sir, and I promise we won’t take your clothes any more. It was just a misunderstanding, sir. Please don’t be angry with us.” She nervously chattered on while scurrying around the room, collecting the loose underwear that Theodore had scattered with his spell and… packing it back into his luggage all neatly folded, which she had somehow managed using only her mouth and what he had first assumed to be clumsy hooves. In moments, she had chivvied her foal out of the room while still apologizing, leaving Theodore still awkwardly trying to get his underwear on while in bed. A little less than an hour later, after Theodore had finished his leisurely morning routine, including making sure all of the potions he had brewing were still in order, bathroom necessities complete, and most of all, pants were acquired, he considered his options. Obviously, his hosts had gone through great effort to retain a human for this sensitive task and provide servants for their employee, so simply throwing up wards to keep out the pony maids would be an overreaction. And they had stayed out of the alchemy lab Theodore had set up next door, so perhaps even the curious foal was worth a little trust. A curious little pony foal, too. Not just from the pale green coloring or the fascinating crystal shimmers across her coat. There was something else about her, something both obvious and hidden, and well-worth investigating until he could satisfy his itching curiosity. But for now, his focus should be on the main reason he was here, and that meant research. Stacks of the pony work journals from the clearance team had been placed just outside of the impromptu alchemy lab, which he moved inside his working space and rearranged some more to make a comfortable reading spot. Surprisingly, the pony translation spell he had gained when coming through the portal covered both the griffon scratching and the ornate unicorn script equally well, allowing Theodore to settle down in some cushions and begin catching up with where he should have been in the investigation. “Peas, fetch me breakfast. Orange juice, two eggs,” he ordered before remembering that the House Nott elves were uncountable miles away. “Yessir,” came an unexpected voice from outside the doorway to his side room, followed by the quiet clatter of hooves as whoever had been lurking there departed. He read for a while, making a few notes and marveling at the scope of Sombra’s expertise before the sound of the hooves returned, along with the scrawny unicorn from yesterday. “W-will this be sufficient?” asked New Leaf, who hesitated at the doorway much like a pale bluish-green chunk of ice, frozen in fear. There was a platter hovering in his blue magic aura, containing a considerable amount of breakfast food not simply limited to a pair of eggs. “I didn’t know if you wanted them poached or scrambled or over easy or cooked hard or—” “Come here,” said Theodore as calmly as he could. After all, there was no need to intimidate the poor thing, since he was self-intimidating already. Picking one of the plates off the platter, Theodore stabbed two of the over-easy eggs and claimed a glass of juice, which was somewhat orange, but did not smell anything like he expected. “It’s crystalberry juice,” explained New Leaf. “We’re far enough north that we don’t have orange juice as a rule, but if you want, we can send—” “Sit,” said Theodore, settling back down on his cushion and wondering if the pieces of brown material on the platter was really a few rashers of bacon, or just something horse-related. He nabbed a piece anyway, on the grounds that if it tasted good and did not harm him, it really didn’t matter what it was. “Toast?” he added, picking up two slices of lightly browned bread. “Yes, sir.” The unicorn sat down on a cushion and reluctantly filled his own plate. The way Leaf’s ribs protruded from his sides indicated a long period of near-starvation, to the point that back on Earth, the unicorn would have been called an old nag, and a number of elderly witches with long noses and discouraging expressions would be inquiring about his diet. “Eat,” added Theodore. After all, he had used a quick poison-detection spell while the unicorn was bringing in the platter, and nothing showed as dangerous to a human. It could be considered paranoid, but his great-uncle had always said the graveyards were filled with people who had been insufficiently cautious, and to care about being called paranoid, one also had to be alive. Then again, his great-uncle had thrown his lot in with Lord Voldemort and died during the fighting, so some skepticism about his advice was warranted. “Sir?” The unicorn blinked his abnormally large blue eyes, but after a period of apparent confusion, took a hesitant bite of runny eggs. “Last night after dinner, Granite Peaks told me to watch over you,” said Theodore in just as stern a voice as he could muster. “He’s taking a break by checking over the older cleared laboratories this week, looking to see if there’s anything the teams missed. While he’s doing that, my job is to get both of us up to speed on the various booby-traps, curses, jinxes, and general mayhem that your former king left behind. Thankfully, the two teams documented their work.” Theodore tapped on the top of the thick stack of journals. “Unthankfully, they documented their work too well at times, and I’ll need your help to sort through the comments. Plus, since you have experience with Sombra’s spells, we’ll need to break down what avenues of exploration will benefit us the most, which buttons not to push, and things like that.” “Yes, sir.” The young unicorn’s eyes seemed drawn to the collection of cauldrons and flasks bubbling away on various tables around the room, and he asked, “Will you show me how your world’s alchemical process work also?” With a confidence that he really did not feel, Theodore responded, “Absolutely. Perhaps there will be something between our magics that can rescue your lost comrades.” - - Ω - - “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Sparrow Lilley bounded into Sweetie Belle’s room and flung open the curtains, which let in a little more light, but not much since the next building in the row of cottages was only a few feet away. “You missed most of breakfast, but we saved you some eggs and all of the Ministry people just took off so we need to get going so we can meet my dad and go shopping for our wizard stuff! So come on!” The young girl snatched off the blanket and gave an awestruck gasp, although Sweetie Belle tried her best to hoof the covers back over her head. “You are a unicorn!” Sparrow’s awestruck grin rapidly turned into a frown. “Aaah, I can’t take a picture for my mom and dad because of that stupid wizardly secrecy thing.” It really did not matter, because Sweetie managed her transformation back into human form in the middle of a yawn. “Breakfast?” she asked. Sweetie Belle was still getting used to this strange world’s idea of breakfast. There were no green grass pancakes or alfalfa seed bagels in the collection of items on the table, but there were beans. Lots of beans. The last of the sausages had already been claimed by Sparrow, but she did leave one of the tasty ‘rashers’ and two half-cooked eggs, which were fairly good, and the toast was still toast. She was still nibbling on one slice with red currant jelly when Miss Selkirk came bustling back into the kitchen and hurried the two girls out to the automobile for their second shopping trip. This trip was for a place called ‘Diagon Alley’ which was where they were going to buy all of the magical bits and baubles of the wizarding variety, much like their trip yesterday was to pick up more mundane clothes and feminine products that Miss Selkirk insisted on. Being a human was more complicated than it seemed. Plumbingwise, if nothing else. Also with the odd straps and cups involved in bras which really did not do anything at all, but which Miss Selkirk had been adamante about her wearing. And shoes, which came in practical flats, speedy trainers, leather (from cows!) formals, and a set of boots for tromping around in the mud. The spike heels, which were nearly impossible to walk on, they left on the shelf until Sweetie was a little more stable on two legs. Miss Selkirk said that would happen when boys became interesting, which was a lot of years ahead. Automobiles were another perfect example of the world’s complexity. Miss Selkirk’s Volvo was a squat thing compared to pony wagons, and pulled itself by way of a purring motor that was considerably more powerful than the magical boxes that moved pony floats in parades. Wizards had little or no need for cars, since they traveled long distances by Floo powder and other magical means, but transport for the boarding house students was a special case. Miss Selkirk provided temporary housing for young Muggle-born boys and girls, as well as a neutral place during the school year where they could meet with their friends or relatives who were not privy to the wizarding secrets. To that end, she had a number of Muggle items including a Volvo car, and on days when more mundane visitors were scheduled, the magical boarders would keep a low profile. Many days of traveling in a Scootaloo-propelled wagon had prepared Sweetie for automobile velocities, even though nothing could have prepared her for this morning’s chaotic experience. Ponyville streets did not have other high-speed wagons zooming around, making random turns and rapid sprints through traffic. Miss Selkirk’s Volvo did not dart and weave across sidewalks and between lampposts the same way the Ministry of Magic car had, but it was still quite exciting enough for Sweetie to be glued to the window, watching the strange world of humans flow past in stops and starts. Sparrow did not match her enthusiasm for looking outside, but kept mostly to herself. She had managed to charge her phone on the only plug in the house by competing with the toaster, so she should have been happier, although she kept worrying a tuft of hair around one ear while watching her phone like a hawk. It gave Sweetie an urge to get out a manebrush and try to untangle Sparrow’s short hair, much like when Scootaloo had her morose times and needed a little comfort brushing. “We’re almost there.” Miss Selkirk craned her head and looked around, seemingly frustrated by a lack of car-sized spaces to put the Volvo into. “If I can find a parking spot.” “Daddy texted me that he took off work a few hours this morning,” said Sparrow, still looking at her phone. “He’s supposed to meet us at the Leaky Cauldron, but if he’s not there, we’re supposed to go on and shop without him. Did Uncle Ruadh leave you enough money, Miss Selkirk?” The Volvo stopped with a sudden jolt to avoid running into the car in front of them and Miss Selkirk muffled a sharp curse. Sweetie Belle’s hard-learned lessons with her Equestrian friends meant she knew this was a bad time to distract the driver, so Sweetie held her hand over Sparrow’s mouth until the car was wedged into a narrow space alongside the street. Her conversation-blocking gesture seemed to be a universal signal that worked as well for humans as ponies, without the indignity of accidentally leaving grass or dirt on a friend’s mouth when done. From there, it was only a short walk to their destination. Sweetie could smell The Leaky Cauldron from the sharp tang of alcohol before they saw it, although the doorway into the dark interior tried to hide whenever she looked straight ahead. There were so many other distractions on the street, from the blinding array of automobiles to the similarly different people strolling around that it was difficult to remind herself about their goal of Diagon Alley. Particularly when she spotted a used book store right next to the bar. Sweetie made a note that when they returned this way, some of those books were coming with them. Moving out of the hustle and bustle into the darkness of The Leaky Cauldron was a shock, which made Sweetie Belle instinctively try to light up her horn. At first, she thought it had worked because of the glow that surrounded the three of them, only it turned out to be the heavy flashlight hanging from Sparrow’s schoolbag blazing into light instead. “Oops,” she said, fumbling with unfamiliar fingers against the aluminium tube, trying to find the switch. “Sorry, Sparrow.” “That’s cool,” she replied, ignoring Sweetie almost totally while looking around at the inside of the human-packed building. “So cool. I never thought I’d see a real British pub.” “Yes, it is,” said Miss Selkirk in a low voice. “Now, Sparrow. Is your father here already?” There did not appear to be anypony… that is anybody in the pub who looked like Sparrow, or even her uncle from yesterday. Most of the humans drinking at the bar looked far, far more dark and gloomy, sulking behind a tankard or scowling at the new arrivals as if Sweetie and her companions had interrupted an interesting discussion. It was certainly not a place like the inside of Ponyville’s tavern, where everypony knew everypony else, and nopony who walked through the door could possibly be a stranger for longer than it took for them to hang up their hat and accept a free cider from one of the regulars. These tankards looked far more battered, as if they had been put to an alternate use, and so did all of the patrons. What was worse, there seemed to be a dark pall hanging over the humans here, as if each of them had built a metaphorical wall around themselves to keep out the darkness, but had accidentally caged it inside with them. “No, I don’t think so,” said Sparrow, who finally quit looking around and took the flashlight away from Sweetie so she could turn off the switch. “Maybe we should have a beer and wait.” “Not while I’m responsible for you, young lady. Or any other time, either. Just follow me and stay close until we get into Diagon Alley.” Miss Selkirk walked purposefully through the tavern with both girls close behind, headed for an open doorway at the back of the bar which was supposed to open up onto a different wizarding street than the Muggle road they had just come from. There was a large, shabbily dressed man blocking their path, and instead of stepping to one side as Sweetie expected, he glowered at the three of them with small dark eyes shaded by shaggy eyebrows. “Miss, you might want to give us a few minutes. We’ve got a real dangerous bloke here, an’ wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” “That’s… a boy?” Miss Selkirk craned her neck to one side and peered past the slouching human. “It’s not a boy, it’s a Nott,” said the man. He chuckled in a low, gravelly tone that had no humor to it while pointing with his wand in the direction of the other humans out in the alley. “Notts are like nits and should be dealt with before they become lice.” There were two other men in the alley, the thinnest of which was dressed in the same motley collection of patched scraps as the first, while the other was wearing a formal dark suit with a pleated shirt and pearl buttons, just as neat and prim as if he had stepped out of Rarity’s boutique. He was not looking very well, however, because his thick wire-framed glasses were askew over his wide, blinking eyes, and his bowler hat was resting on the dirty ground, looking slightly stepped-upon. Next to the hat was a very small boy that Sweetie had overlooked at first. He also had a softer cloth cap and thick square glasses, and wore a black suit with creases just as sharp as the older man. He was most certainly not calm, because his face was screwed up into a fierce expression that resembled Opalescence at bath time, and seemed as if he was just about ready to bite the scroungy looking man standing over him. “If my father were here—” “He’d be right upset you brought a Muggle into the Cauldron, boy,” said the large man in the doorway, looking over his shoulder. “Everid there isn’t going to hex you much. Jus’ enough for you to remember what happens to You-Know-Who’s followers. Keep you honest, maybe.” “Honest men do not hex the innocent,” snapped the boy. “There ain’t no innocents here,” said the thinner man, although his eye seemed to be caught by Sweetie Belle’s shocked expression. “Save maybe those two. Lady, take your two brats and leave before something unfortunate happens.” Miss Selkirk looked between the two men, then back at Sweetie and Sparrow. “I’m sorry, girls. Please move back into the bar. I’ll just be a minute.” Sweetie moved back, although Sparrow remained in place, still holding her flashlight. “Is there anything wrong, Miss Selkirk?” The young boy spoke first, in a series of sharp, cutting words, “These gentlemen have an unsettled debt with my father, and wish to take it out on me, since they are too cowardly to take their vengeance upon a bedridden old man tottering on the edge of his grave.” “An underaged boy and a muggle. You are so brave,” snapped Miss Selkirk as if it were a vicious curse. Her fingers twitched near the wand in her sleeve, only to have both of the wizards point their wands at her. “Not so fast, lady. We’re just gonna give this little snake something to remember when he’s in school, gettin’ all his schemes set up. Nuttin’ that the teaches can’t undo.” The slouching man at the doorway gave a gap-toothed grin. “Maybe.” “Wait up there! Hang on, hold up, sir. We don’t want any trouble.” A short man in a mottled green military uniform came up behind Sweetie, gently pushing her to one side behind a table as he passed. There was a certain polite inevitability to his motions, as if he could have just moved through the large man blocking their path and left a trail of booted footprints across his chest, except that would not have been proper. The red-haired man was smiling — at least on his face — but there was something deeper in his eyes that Sweetie had last seen in her own father when Rumble came to their house to help her with homework. “Careful, Dad,” hissed Sparrow under her breath. “Oh, really?” remarked the larger wizard in the doorway. With two adult targets to choose from, the shabby wizards let their aim wander, which seemed to suit Sparrow’s sizable father just fine. He moved up to just a step away from the first wizard and put on a warm smile with his right hand stuck out to shake. “Yes, really. My brother tells me this business your country had with Voldemort—” he did not flinch, but both of the other wizards cringed back slightly “—is all over now. I wouldn’t have let my daughter attend Hogwarts otherwise, and I think having one of their new students accosted before school starts is not going to look very well. So why don’t the two of you put up your wands and I’ll treat you to a drink? My name’s Major Nel Lilley, by the way, but you can call me Nel.” “You don’t talk like an Irish wizard. And yer dressed like a Yank,” said the larger wizard. He ignored Nel’s outstretched hand, giving a sneer and keeping his wand pointed in his general direction, although his skinny partner let his own wand sag to point at the floor and gave a surreptitious glance at the bar. “Actually, I’m a squib,” said Nel. “All the wizarding got stuck in my older brothers. Ran out before my mother got to me, I suppose. So, how’s about that drink?” “Ah don’t drink with squibs.” The man’s wand rose to point at Nel’s smiling face, and Sweetie felt everything happen at once. Sparrow’s father moved in a blur, lifting a stick that appeared in his left hand and hitting the inside of the wizard’s wand arm with a sharp snap, then reversing his blow to bring the short stick up across the wizard’s forehead, all in less time than it took to sneeze. The other wizard began to raise his own wand only to have both Miss Selkirk and Sparrow’s Uncle Ruadah blast him with their own wands at exactly the same moment. Sweetie Belle had not even seen Ruadah move into the Leaky Cauldron’s main room, and a man that big should have been slower, like Big Mac. “This one’s still got a pulse,” said Nel, checking the neck of the first fallen wizard and picking up his wand. “Got two sticks too.” “So’s this one,” said Ruadah, who slipped forward and relieved the second unconscious wizard of his wands while keeping his own wand pressed firmly against a vulnerable throat. “Got three, actually.” “Thought you said this place was safe, Red.” Nel Lilley collected the extra wands from his stocky brother and gave the small boy a friendly nod. “You okay there, lad? Are any of these wands yours or your friend’s?” “No, sir. Not yet.” The boy’s intense dark eyes darted to one side where Ruadah was checking on the dazed man. “How is my Uncle Elliott?” “Confounded, but not badly. We’ll sort ‘em out when the Ministry shows up.” And if summoned by the words, several men in dark suits flashed into existence at the far end of the bar with quiet ‘whoosh’ noises. The wizarding version of teleportation was far different than Sweetie expected, because she had only seen a few unicorns who could teleport, and most commonly Twilight Sparkle when she was upset. Normally at her, or the Cutie Mark Crusaders. This time for a change, Sweetie Belle was not in trouble, and thankfully neither was Miss Selkirk. There was a lot of talking, with some strenuous gesturing on Ruadah’s part before the Ministry wizards confiscated the wands and took the two unconscious men away. Then when the last ministry wizard was going to take the Muggle to somewhere called Saint Mungo’s for medical treatment, the boy objected. Loudly and repeatedly. One ministry wizard, a rather rumpled human with red hair, caught Miss Selkirk’s eye and motioned her over, which barely left Sweetie enough time to find a place to ‘coincidentally’ listen to them. “Donna, things have been popping all day long,” he protested in an obviously tired voice. “I’m covering for Hawkins, and I’ve got three other calls right now, so while I take the elder Mister Nott to get treated, could I impose on you enough to watch over Master Nott and see that he gets home—” The ministry wizard paused, obviously over a complication he had not thought of until just then. “Pardon me,” said the small boy, who had found Sweetie’s concealment spot to be just as convenient to listen in on the conversation as she had. He took a step forward and removed his cloth cap. “Ma’am. Sir. If my uncle is to be treated at St. Mungo’s, as this gentlewizard insists, I shall be temporarily without a legal guardian. Uncle Elliot is the last of my immediate family available since my brother has gone off to study in someplace called ‘Equestria.’ I understand that you run a boarding house, Miss Selkirk?” “Why… yes.” Miss Selkirk glanced across the bar where Sparrow was chattering a furlong a minute to her father and uncle without regard to any volume control. “I can see where you may have heard that. Are you needing a room for a day or two?” “Yes, please. As well as an escort for today. I am on a very strict schedule to get my school things, or I would not have talked my uncle into this trip,” he explained. “Most of it can be purchased by owl if I am willing to put up with the potential for flawed merchandise, but I need to visit the bank and get my wand today at the very least.” “I can take you to Ollivanders, Master Nott,” said Miss Selkirk. “And I’m certified as a boarder for Hogwarts students, so you can room at my house until your uncle feels well enough to pick you back up, or if it takes longer, I can bring you to the Hogwarts train.” Nott looked Miss Selkirk up and further up before giving a brief nod. “That will be acceptable. Please make sure my uncle receives the best of care, Mister Weasley.” The ministry wizard nodded. “I most certainly will. And try not to get into any more trouble today, Master Nott.” Then there was a flicker of motion much different than Twilight Sparkle’s teleportation spell, and the two humans were gone, leaving only the small boy. He turned back to Miss Selkirk and looked up, as he practically had to. “I saw the way you handled my assailant, Ma’am. Quite professional. I presume the young ladies are your other boarders?” “Yes. Sparrow, the daughter of Major Lilley is over there,” said Miss Selkirk, pointing at where the two Lilley brothers were discussing the fight while the rest of the bar’s inhabitants gave them all wide berth. “And this is Sweetie Belle. She’s a foreign exchange student.” “From Equestria,” volunteered Sweetie as she shook hands. The boy’s hand was cold, but not clammy as she had feared when she first took hold of it, and there were wiry muscles behind his grasp, along with sharply delineated calluses on his fingers. The boy stopped shaking hands and put on a puzzled frown along with a series of rapid blinks that made him look vaguely owl-like behind his thick square glasses, but he did not ask the question it seemed he wanted to, because Sparrow took that moment to bound up to the two of them. “Let’s get going so we can get all our stuff and take a break at the ice cream store my uncle told me about. Come on!”