//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: On the Implications of Parallel Worlds // by computerneek //------------------------------// Professor McGonagall tried to be inconspicuous as she took a deep breath.  If she was honest with herself, she did that every time she led a new muggleborn student into the Leaky Cauldron, bracing herself for the worst.  It was quite rare, in this day and age, for muggle parents to abandon their children to the wizarding world- but the most common point for them to do that was upon entering the Leaky Cauldron. When Hagrid had returned a couple nights before, he’d reported on exactly what the Equestrians were going to do; they’d explained it to him in more detail.  Thus, the staff had known to treat the letters from Equestrians like letters from wizarding families. It had taken that entire day to separate out the muggleborn notes remaining…  and it had been found that there simply wasn’t enough days left before the deadline for him to attend to all of the muggleborns himself. Combined with how they’d also realized just how many teachers were necessary to process all the owls that came in through the entire day, that meant that Hagrid had been reassigned to get Harry Potter…  and Professor McGonagall herself had been sent out on muggleborn duty, as usual. By her understanding, Professor Flitwick was going to get two muggleborn as well over the next few days, reducing her duty count to just one per day, up to the deadline.  And that, assuming they all said yes- which they usually all did, whether they meant to or not. The Grangers, who she was escorting at the time, seemed like a pleasant family.  Most of the disowners seemed like that, though, so she wasn’t so certain. Their daughter, a young witch that had eagerly accepted the offer after her carefully-designed demonstration, was particularly eager- which did tend to suggest her parents were not the disowning type.  Most of the disowned children had been nervous on the way in… but she’d had a few cheerful ones get disowned over the ages as well. In either case, she fully expected the girl to end up in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, whatever happened.  And, with how heavily strained the castle finances would be for this number of students, she couldn’t expect to be able to provide any gold for the girl’s education, should she be disowned. She braced herself for the worst as she led the trio to the door.  She’d already explained to the parents that they wouldn’t be able to see it without touching a witch or wizard- which included their daughter, who was rather obligingly holding their hands. Then, she opened the door, entered, and held the door for them. Then she did a double-take.  The pub did not look like she was used to it looking. “...  Colorful,” Hermione observed bluntly. The pub was a lot fuller than Professor McGonagall had expected, and a lot more cheerful.  And, Hermione was right, more colorful as well.  Not only were the witches and wizards in attendance wearing their usual kaleidoscope of colors, but there were dozens- possibly hundreds- of first-year-age children, each with their own vivid hair colors, milling about.  A couple dozen of them, in one corner, appeared to be wearing golden armor. Tom, and all six of his servers (four of whom were also funny-haired first-years), were running to and fro, serving varied drinks- mostly butterbeer, it seemed- to all the students. In between them all, placed proudly on five different tables throughout the room, stood five towering cakes.  She could just see the remnants of a sixth, with only a few pieces left on the massive platter, and the several other tables littered with other sweets and treats throughout the room.  Floating above the crowd were hundreds of balloons as varied in color as a bag of Bertie Bott's in flavor. Cheerful music wafted through the air, and a colorful dance floor could be found off to the side, flashing different colors to the tune of the music…  with plenty of those first-years stumbling in failed attempts at dancing, and a few older witches or wizards either helping them learn or just dancing. Then of course, there was the huge banner hanging across the entire width of the pub, directly above the bar, with ‘Welcome to a New World’ written on it in huge lettering. “Ahh…  I hope we’re not crashing someone’s party,” Mr. Granger muttered quietly. Very suddenly, a first-year girl with a startlingly pink mane of fluffy pink hair dashed out of the crowd so fast someone slower than Professor McGonagall would have to be excused for thinking she’d apparated.  “Of course not,” the girl cheered. “Everyone’s invited to this Welcome-to-the-Wizarding-World party!” She suddenly had a plate of cake in her hands, though where she’d gotten it from, even McGonagall couldn’t tell.  “Cake?” Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, committing an image of the pub to memory…  then concentrated on the Hogwarts wards. It was harder to communicate through them when she was away from the castle, but she could still do it.  It took her close to two seconds to properly formulate and deliver the image, during which all three Grangers stood still, stunned silent. Professor Dumbledore’s response came back almost immediately.  “What.”  She got the distinct feeling of shocked silence from all three other heads of house, and allowed herself a small smile. “Is there something missing…?” the pink-haired girl asked, looking somewhat saddened. Then another girl, this one with light blue and white striped hair, trotted up next to her.  “Patience, Pinkie- remember, these people aren’t used to you.” She glanced up at the Grangers.  “And something tells me these people aren’t used to magic in the first place.”  She then stepped forward, and held her hand out to Hermione.  “I’m Lyra Heartstrings- and it’s nice to meet you,” she greeted. The pink girl- Pinkie?- scowled, but all three Grangers started moving with a start, and shook themselves out.  “Ahh… Nice to meet you too,” Hermione answered, gingerly accepting the hand. Mrs. Granger breathed a sigh, looking up at Professor McGonagall.  “Do… How long do we have, for…?” She gestured around at the party. At that very moment, Professor Dumbledore spoke again, over the Hogwarts wards; of the other three, only Snape had recovered from his shock, now quietly curious.  “You’re…  guiding someone, aren’t you?” “Ahh,” Professor McGonagall muttered aloud.  “Yes…  though the Grangers seem to want some time here too.” “Hmm,” Dumbledore mused.  “I don’t see any reason to stop them.  Probably be a good chance to learn about some of the Equestrians, I’d say.” Lyra spoke up suddenly, looking up at the adults; while McGonagall communed with Dumbledore, she’d asked Hermione if she was going to Hogwarts, and gotten a yes.  “If you want to party first and shop later, that’s no problem- as a matter of fact, we’ve got teams going shopping at regular intervals, about twenty-five every ten minutes or so.  We’ve got, let’s see…” She glanced at her wristwatch, whose face lit up as she looked at it, in a manner that practically screamed ‘muggle tech’ to Professor McGonagall.  “About six hours before the last one heads out, today.  And they’ve got almost a half-hour of leeway before the first shop closes, so…”  She shrugged. “If you want to shop first and party later, I might suggest joining the next party- about three minutes, expect the shopping trip to take about an hour and a half- and we’ll still be here for several hours yet.  And tomorrow too, if you like.” Pinkie bounced up and down so fast she couldn’t possibly have been only falling back to the ground each time.  “Yes! And the day after, and the day after, and every day until we’re all done!  It’ll be superduper fuuuuntastic!”  She leaped several feet into the air, one hand pumping even higher, floated in place for a half-second or so, and dropped back to the ground in a blur. Professor McGonagall’s jaw articulated up and down a couple times, staring at her. “Don’t ask,” Lyra warned her.  “Some of the concepts involved in how she does that defy logic in ways that even the greatest mages of our world can’t understand.  Still remember the time Twilight tried to explain Pinkie Pie… I think she actually caught fire, right?” Pinkie nodded energetically.  “Yep! Then it all went out, though she was still smoking a little, and she was like ‘okay, I’ll accept it’.”  She tapped her chin with one finger. “Come to think of it, I think she’s still the record holder for the slowest to accept that Pinkie Pie defies explanation…” “What, not me?”  She put on a mock offended expression. “Well of course, Lyra!  You’re the one that made it possible, so of course you don’t count!  Cake?” She offered the plate she was still holding. Lyra chuckled.  “No thanks, I still gotta finish my last piece.  Hot sauce?” She held up a red bottle she hadn’t been holding a moment before, with an image of a flame on its label. All three Grangers and Professor McGonagall stared as Pinkie nodded.  “Sure!” The girl popped the bottle open, poured it all over the slice of cake, and swallowed it all- plate, bottle, and all- in one fell swoop.  “Mmm, good stuff.” Then she burped, producing the plate with a few crumbs on it, and an empty bottle with that fire label. She promptly vanished for a second before reappearing with four plates, each with a fresh slice of cake, which she offered to them.  “Cake?” “Uhh…” Mr. Granger uttered. Lyra put a hand over her mouth and started snickering, while Pinkie giggled openly. “That never gets old,” Lyra snickered. Hermione then became the first to accept the plate offered to her.  “... Thank you?” She sounded very confused.