Sunset knew that she was in a castle without anyone having told her. She knew castles, or at least knew them enough to be able to tell this much. She had lived in one for years after all.
She walked over to a window, the shape of her footwear helping her figure out that she ought to walk on her pastern, which felt both odd and natural at the same time, and looked out into the enormous courtyard.
Relatively enormous at least. While it was an impressive castle, with towers and wings and crenellations and battlements and flying buttresses for days, she’d seen bigger.
It was a small town of a castle- very impressive, and yet, Sunset couldn’t help but feel a little sting of nostalgia for Canterlot castle, a large town of a castle, and not just a castle, a palace as well.
Sunset shook her head. Her analysis was clear, she went through the mirror shortly before it went dormant for over two years. It would have been closed for hours now, so no point in getting homesick. This is where she would be in the foreseeable future.
She really ought to get on with realigning her magic focus, but she could forgive herself if she took some time out from this strange experience.
Then again, she was Sunset Shimmer, and she wasn’t going to gain greater power by just doing nothing. With a furrowed brow, she sat down on the bed again, closed her eyes, and started on the long process of redirecting her flow of magic power towards other parts of her body.
There was something special about unicorn horns. There was nothing like them in all of Equestria, but they were also mostly keratin, just like hair and claws. A unicorn’s horn was better at channeling magic, that is true, but an artist of Sunset’s skill could paint with a boomerang, in a storm.
Slowly, gently, Sunset began guiding her magic, the potential for remaking the world, from the part of her that was beyond the material, to her physical body, and making an opening, just a trickle, towards her hair and the claws on her fingers, and she couldn’t help but show a smirk as she felt it working.
“Miss Sunset Shi–” the voice of a mare Sunset didn’t recognise said, and then cut off.
Sunset opened her eyes to see an elder mare, tall and with her mane in a tight bun, staring at her with her eyes wide.
“... Yes, ma’am?” Sunset said, as her fingernails stopped glowing and her mane did the same while coming to rest around her head the way gravity intended.
The mare rallied, and cleared her throat.
“Miss Sunset Shimmer, I am Minerva McGonagall, professor and teacher of transfiguration here at Hogwarts.”
Sunset gently inclined her head towards the tall mare. “Pleased to meet you, Professor Minerva McGonagall.”
Sunset noticed the barest hint of amusement, maybe, on the teacher’s face.
“And you, Miss Shimmer, though you need not use your teacher’s full name, their surnames will suffice.”
Sunset nodded in an easy way, but inside her mind was rabidly cataloguing everything she needed to blend in on this world.
“Now, Madam Pomfrey has given you a clean bill of health. If you are well you will follow me.”
Sunset nodded, relieved that she had already figured out the mystery of the boots before this, and stood up, ready to follow the supremely tightly wound hair knot, and her mane.
The two walked in silence, clearly intended to be uncomfortable for Sunset, which really made it less so for her. Sunset smirked to herself– teachers who wanted to make students’ lives miserable always loudly telegraphed their intentions to her, informing her who to be on her guard around.
The castle wasn’t as luxurious and opulent as Canterlot Castle, not by a long shot. In fact, it was barely that at all, but it was impressive, the sense of history she thought herself sensing deep in the stone, the armors on the walls, and the paintings of people who followed them with their eyes.
Still, it could do with a few personal towers. Sunset had one in Equestria. You can’t be a proper wizard without a tower.
“Ah!” someone said to their side. “Have classes started early this semester?”
Sunset looked to her side, and was too shocked to cry out by what she saw, only barely staying upright as she backpedalled away from the anathema of all that is good in the world.
“Not quite, Friar,” said Mcgonagall, and looked back at Sunset, who was staring at the phantasm with eyes wide, trying not to make it too obvious that she was pressing herself against the wall. “One student simply found herself here early.”
“I see,” the floating, silvery image of a portly friar said happily, and put a piece of equally silvery bit of cheese in his mouth. “That’s a relief- I couldn’t remember any sorting ceremony yet. Almost afraid my mind was going there. Well, welcome to Hogwarts then, feel free to ask us anything.”
The friar seemed to be busy with other things, presumably that passed over cheese, as he didn’t stop to talk more, just nodding his head and smiled at Sunset and floated on through a wall.
“... What was…?” Sunset tried.
“That was The Friar, the ghost of House Hufflepuff,” said McGonagall, staring a little impatiently at Sunset.
The words sunk in, and Sunset rapidly relaxed. Ghosts. Reflections of minds left behind and lingering in the mortal realms. Rare but harmless, indeed often helpful, unlike the true living dead, the collective memories of which still haunted Equestrians despite not appearing again since ancient history.
Still, Sunset thought to perhaps take some more care to not underestimate this world. It clearly had surprises and powers of its own.
Sunset coughed a little, and straightened up. “Well, sorry for the interruption,” she said, and stood ready to continue again.
“... Quite,” McGonagall said, looking at Sunset for a moment more, before continuing.
They briskly walked up towards a gargoyle at the end of a hallway, which stepped aside to reveal a circular staircase behind it. Sunset thought this was very elaborate, perhaps needlessly so, since the merits of simple doors hadn’t been lost on these creatures, as she saw one at the top of the stairs.
That Sunset essentially had to walk with another set of hands pointing forward at the end of her legs proved a little tricky when it came to stairs, and she had to take great care to not stumble over the steps. It was a strange design choice, Sunset thought, to have such clearly hoof-friendly elements in the architecture of a building for creatures so adapted to living in trees. Better perhaps to have some sort of ladder?
“Are you well, Miss Shimmer?” McGonagall asked, looking back at Sunset and her slow, deliberate ascent.
“I’m fine,” Sunset said, a little tersely, just as she figured out that walking on her front footpads, as Harmony intended for her, was acceptable in the case of stairs. “Thank you.”
The door opened just as the mare took the last steps on the stair, with Sunset following her into a circular room, filled with silvery instruments, paintings, bookshelves, esoteric knick-knacks, and old people.
Headmaster Dumbledore was sitting behind a desk, also filled with magical paraphernalia, with one tiny person and one huge person on the other side of the desk.
“Ah, Minerva, and Miss Shimmer. Please, come in,” Dumbledore said. “Miss Shimmer, allow me to introduce Professor Filius Flitwick, professor of charms, and Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and game here at Hogwarts. Filius, Rubeus, Miss Sunset Shimmer.”
“Pleased ter meet ya,” the giant said, holding out a hand in greeting like gryphons would their talons, which Sunset shook.
“Likewise,” Sunset said, amazed at the range of size among these creatures.
“So, the mysterious child,” the other one, Flitwick, said in a cheerful tone, as he shook her hand as well. “I understand you’ve had some previous magical training? I hope you won’t upset the house prestige system too much, although I guess some mixing up would be in order… ah, please don’t tell Severus I said that.”
Sunset half-raised her arm at one of the books on a shelf, and her hair was briefly buffeted as if by a breeze and a slight glow appeared around her hands as the magic power shot through them.
The book shot straight into Sunset’s hand, and she held it up to her face to inspect it. “Yes, but I don’t recognize any of this, so I suspect I’m not too far ahead.”
She looked up from the book when she noticed the silence. All the old people were looking at her silently, McGonagall clearly trying to hold back surprise, Hagrid’s mouth hanging open, while Flitwick and Dumbledore looked amused.
“Hoho!” The short one said, turning to Dumbledore. “We’ll have our hands full with this one.”
“Indeed we may,” he agreed. “Well, Miss Shimmer, we have withdrawn an amount of money from a fund for those without means, which will cover basic books and materiel for you first year of school, and if you accept, funds to cover lodging and meals for the remaining three days before school at a lovely inn called The Leaky Cauldron, whereupon you will, as stated before, be granted access to a dormitory, and provided meals.
“Now, of course, I assume you will be wanting a guide to help you with your purchases in an unfamiliar location, and who can provide further instructions on how to get back here in time for the school term to start.”
Sunset did think that would be helpful, but she also felt she was just barely able to keep up her facade of being from this world, and a member of… whatever species she was, as it was, and was eager to get out from beneath an authority’s gaze and observe from a more comfortable distance.
Three days should be more than enough to familiarize herself enough to shop for school books and a uniform on her own.
“I think I’ll be fine actually,” Sunset said, in an as neutral tone as she could manage.
“Well o’ course yer will be,” Hagrid said, kindly. “But galleons ‘s scarce with student funds. Wouldn’t do ter have someone short-change ye and ye’ll not ‘ave enough for a wand.”
“Indeed, it would be prudent for someone to accompany you,” McGonagall added, and Sunset thought her voice seemed warmer than before.
But what made Sunset really pause was Dumbledore, who stared at her in silence for several moments, with an expression Sunset had seen before, but had trouble placing, but he seemed… sad?
“If that is your wish, we will not force our presence upon you.”
Something turned inside Sunset. “Well, gee, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. If anyone wants to help me shop, go ahead.”
“Wonderful,” Dumbledore said. “Hagrid here is busy helping another expected student. Minerva?”
“I am… available,” she said, a little hesitantly.
“As am I, if we can take a few hours off from comparing notes,” Flitwick said.
“Of course.” Dumbledore nodded.
“Thank you,” McGonagall said.
“If you are free to leave right now, Miss Shimmer, then so am I,” the small creature said cheerfully.
—
After they had left, Dumbledore leaned back into his chair and thought about this strange development.
Secrecy, power, and independence. He had seen this before. Hopefully the girl’s polite demeanor wasn’t all a front, like one of Dumbledore’s greatest regrets.
—
Sunset stumbled slightly as she stepped out of the fireplace, and stood there for a moment, staring dead ahead and wondering if what she thought just happened actually did happen. It did, and it was the strangest, clumsiest form of magical travel she had ever seen.
“Ah, The Cauldron,” Flitwick said, stepping out behind her. “Hello, Tom.”
They were standing in a… rustic… old bar, thought charming in many ways. Lanterns and oil lamps lit it up, though barely, revealing tables and booths in the dim, orange light, with hooded and robed figures all around, not looking up. Stepping out of fireplaces were apparently commonplace.
An old stallion stood behind the counter, washing a mug. “‘Ello, professor,” he said in a clear voice, despite his lack of teeth. “Wha’ brings ye ‘ere?”
Sunset wondered if everypony in this world except her looked really old.
“Some relaxing shopping,” Flitwick said, and gestured to Tom to come closer.
Flitwick stood up on a chair, and leaned in to whisper into Tom’s ear.
Sunset was a little distracted, and not for the first time, by her ears being stationary, despite the whispered conversation.
Still, she figured out what the conversation was about. Flitwick mentioned Dumbledore, the word “stay”, and Tom’s eyes flicked towards Sunset and shot up, before nodding solemnly at the tiny teacher.
A part of Sunset wanted to speak up and say that they didn’t need to throw sympathy at her, but then again, she was technically an orphan. Either way, no good could have come from it.
“Sunset Shimmer, this is Tom, the innkeeper of The Leaky Cauldron, where you’ll be staying for a few days. Tom, this is Sunset Shimmer.”
“Aye, pleased ter meet ya.”
“Likewise,” Sunset said.
“Well, we must get going,” Flitwick said. “We’ll see you later, Tom.”
“Aye.”
They walked out into the courtyard in the back, with Sunset looking around and taking in the sights all the time, though she was more focused on the magic that permeated the place. There were clearly illusion spells all around, though none that affected her, as well as transformation spells ahead of her.
“Now, please pay attention,” Flitwick said, and drew a wand from his robe, tapping it on a specific set of bricks, making the wall open up and reveal a busy street. “This is Diagon Alley.”
Sunset hadn’t really memorized what he had done, but it didn’t really matter, the spell was obvious and the bricks were so stained with magic she couldn’t overlook it even if she tried.
Her eyes were instead drawn towards the street in front of her. A long, winding path, lined with shops and businesses that went on and on.
Flitwick let her have a moment, standing patiently and smiling at Sunset taking it all in.
And Sunset did need a moment, though she was perhaps more calculating than one would suspect.
Sunset strongly suspected that the creatures of this world couldn’t detect magic as she could, or they’d take steps to clean out the layers, sediments really, of decaying old spells, and raw magic power that was coating everything, slowly evaporating over generations.
It was actually quite worrying, like if someone never, ever cleaned their bathroom, year after year, decade after decade. Luckily it was just strange, rather than unhygienic, and didn’t put a damper on Sunset’s appetite.
Still, it had to interfere with magical research, and even many normal spells. Sunset strongly suspected that the street had been straight at one point, and was becoming more and more twisted. Or perhaps that it had been a round circuit, and was slowly straightening out.
It didn’t seem to bother anypony here though, so it probably wasn’t a problem. Still, you could never keep Canterlot so magically dirty that it warped streets, however slowly- it was built on the side of a mountain after all.
Sunset was also now fairly sure that there was only one type of… whatever she was. She saw no wings, no horn, or nothing else that put them apart from each other besides size. There were no flying creatures in the sky either.
Suddenly, a mare in a black robe and a funny hat appeared next to Sunset and Flitwick with a bang, practically spraying them with excess magic.
She walked past them as if she hadn’t noticed them, and perhaps she hadn’t, but Flitwick seemed undisturbed by the display.
Sunset changed her mind. Floo travel was not the worst way to travel magically. That was. It was almost fascinating, being so sloppy, unsafe, and accomplishing less than proper teleportation.
“Ah, yes, that was apparition, which you’ll no doubt learn yourself in a few years–” Sunset balked at the thought “–You still have your shoulder bag? Good. Now, please come along,” Flitwick said, and noticed that Sunset hadn’t moved. “Miss? Are you quite alright?”
Sunset had stopped in the opening in the brick wall, and looked around her suspiciously, before registering the teacher’s words. “Y… yes, I’m alright,” she said, and carefully strode past the wall into Diagon Alley.
“Now, I have seen you do some magic without a wand, which isn’t exactly unusual, but you will of course need one for any magic that requires control and sophistication, and I suggest we do so first, and I can go take care of some financial business while you pick one out.”
“Yes, professor,” Sunset said, glad she was walking behind him, as she was rolling her eyes so much she was starting to get dizzy.
Sunset reined herself in though. Flitwick was an interesting enough stallion to listen to, as he enthusiastically told Sunset tidbits of history, political drama, and a few personal exploits about the places they passed.
Apparently, the people who knew of and could wield magic were in a vast minority in this world, taking great care to hide themselves from non-magical humans (“muggles”. Strange term) and every magical man, woman, and child were bound by ancient conventions to never reveal magic to them
Humans, men, women, boys, girls, and children- Sunset mentally printed the word down and let out a sigh of relief. Finally, she knew the most basic terms for the people of this world. She was a girl, rather than a mare or a filly.
There were other things she was soaking up like a sponge as well, like how everyone, another helpful term, were dressed at all times, which made sense with the lack of coats, and how they were apparently omnivores, and so on.
Many differences to be sure, but none in truly fundamental ways. These beings, humans, they had language, arts, culture, and commerce. They used the insides of their heads to think, they breathed air, ate food, some lived in cities, some out in the country, the sky was blue, clouds were white or grey, gravity held people on the ground, and they existed in three dimensions. She could get used to this
Sunset still wondered what the point of hiding themselves from non-magical beings was, but figured she’d have to wait before getting the answer to that.
“Here we are. Garrick Ollivander, of the Olivanders.”
“And this is the finest store for wands, which is one of the cornerstones of the magical way of life?” Sunset asked, looking at the small and sort of shabby place.
“Indeed,” Flitwick said, and opened the door. “Come along now.”
The inside of the small store was dusty and little dark, with shelves going to the ceiling, all filled with neat little packages.
“Why, Filius,” a elderly stallion… man, suddenly said, from the teacher’s side, making him jump a little into the air. “I have to assume you’re not here for a new wand. You always showed great responsibility when it came to that.”
Sunset had to struggle not to shake her head at the sight of yet another old person.
“No, I am here with the young Miss Sunset Shimmer, a soon-to-be student.”
Ollivander turned to look at Sunset, freezing on the spot.
“Well, I shall be back momentarily,” Flitwick said. “Don’t worry about payment my dear, that will be covered.”
“... Yes,” Ollivander said, a bit distractedly, as Flitwick exited. “Yes indeed.”
Sunset stood her ground as the wandmaker gently raised a hand, and strode up to Sunset as if she was a scared rabbit he was sneaking up on, despite her looking straight at him.
He gently brushed a finger against her hair, humming to herself.
“I don’t want to be rude,” Sunset said, a bit coldly, “but I was led to believe that I could get a wand here.”
Ollivander pulled back his fingers as if Sunset’s hair was suddenly red hot. “Yes… yes indeed,” he said to himself, before turning and taking a look into Sunset’s eyes, then smiled a little and swished back to a shelf behind the counter.
“A wand is the limb of a witch or wizard,” Ollivander said, searching through the shelves (Sunset still thought it was strange that “wizard” was a gendered term). “A channel for their inner magical abilities. I favor the phoenix feather, the dragon heartstrings, and of course the hair of unicorns, which is what I think of when I see you, my dear. Curious. Every part of a unicorn is filled with powerful magic. Difficult to make them part with their hairs of course, but always a pleasure to work with. Wonderful creatures. Yes, absolutely wonderful.”
Sunset folded her arms. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said, before she could stop herself.
Ollivander’s wide-eyed gaze shot towards Sunset, making him look like a startled owl.
He quickly tiptoed back up to her, taking a lock of her hair in his hand and inspecting it closely, before looking into Sunset’s eyes, startled.
“My lady!” he gasped, and just continued looking at her for a moment. “... How?”
Sunset shrugged casually, and realized she had just lied. She did feel a bit more favorably inclined towards Ollivander. “Long story, but I’m gonna make the best of it.” She raised an eyebrow at the man. “It’s not a problem I hope.”
“No,” Ollivander said, forcefully, then calmed down. “No, it is not, but perhaps I may…?”
Sunset reached up to her head, and pulled out three long strands of hair between her thumb and index finger, which she held out to Ollivander.
Confidence seemed to come back to Ollvander, and he smiled and set to work. Sunset found herself a little surprised as he raised her arms and measured the span of them, and her height, even her girth, all the while talking to himself.
“Hmm, strong, healthy, and no wonder. Powerful, of course, and quick. Nothing to ease the use is required, in fact perhaps the opposite. Unusual… of course. Holly, maybe, but perhaps… redundant. Yew… maybe, or perhaps something… yes, something… exotic.”
He stalked towards the back of the store, clutching the three hairs. Sunset leaned over the counter to see him bent over a desk, digging through a box.
“Yes, yes, here,” he muttered to himself, and walked out of Sunset’s sight.
For about fifteen minutes, all she heard was the tapping and knocking of wood on wood, with the occasional mumbling from Ollivander, before he emerged again, a wand in his hand.
“Here,” he said, and held it out to Sunset. “Post oak, eleven and a half inches, thick and stout. Difficult to wield for most, but… perhaps not for you.”
Sunset gently took it, and it felt warm, familiar and… ready. Ready for her to use it to alter reality around her.
It wasn’t vital, she could get along fine without it, but it was one tool among many on her quest, which she hadn’t given up on. If anything, her resolve was only stronger.
She gave it a little flick, and a red and golden feather gently appeared at the tip.
Ollivander leaned forward to look at it. “Despite appearances… not a phoenix feather,” he said, smiling almost conspiratorially at Sunset.
At this point, Flitwick entered the store, with a jovial look on his face. “Ah, all done?” he asked. “Seven Galleons.”
Flitwick reached up and put the coins in a neat little stack on the counter, and Ollivander gave them the merest nod of recognition. “Thank you, Filius,” he said, and gently reached for Sunset’s hand, which she held out for him. He carefully took it in his own, and bowed very slightly. “It has been an honor.”
“Thank you,” she said, surprising herself with how she meant it.
Flitwick’s looked back and forth between Sunset and Ollivander, surprised, as they exited the store.
“Made an impression on him then?”
“I suppose so.”
Sunset held out the red and gold feather, and twirled it slightly in her fingers. No indeed, it was not a phoenix’s feather, and it wasn’t real either… but one day.
The books had to be bought second hoof… hand, and Sunset was glad that Flitwick had come with her by now, as he was obviously a popular figure in this place, being familiar and on friendly terms with just about every store-owner and most of their employees, and so they were very willing, almost eager, to dig up the best books despite their tight budget.
Of course, he didn’t say anything out loud, but the fact that the professor asked for the cheaper options made everyone look at Sunset with sad eyes, nodding solemnly at the professor.
“Poor dear,” said Madam Malkin, who was less reserved in her sympathy than others, muttering to herself as she measured Sunset. “Foul business it was. Absolutely horrid. Hells take them all I say.”
Sunset was memorising it all as best as she could without understanding what she was referring to. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be inappropriate, and perhaps even a little sympathetic, to act stoically when being reminded that she was an orphan.
And… it was technically true.
“... And left destitute. Well, I’ll not have a girl as pretty as you leave the store with rags, I’ll whip up something fetching, don’t you worry.”
“... Thank you,” Sunset said. It hadn’t yet turned into asking who her parents had been and how that “foul business” had affected her, and luckily it didn’t before she could leave the store.
Sunset thanked the proprietor, and grabbed her bag from the corner, which was filled with so many books it weighed more than Flitwick. He looked on in astonishment as she threw it over her shoulder like it was filled with feathers.
“Professor?” Sunset asked, as they walked down the street, Sunset’s new clothes in a package underneath her arm and a wide, pointy hat on her head. “Everyone here seems… uhm… actually, do any of my books cover recent history, some… ten, fifteen years ago?”
“Indeed they do. I believe that Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts covers what you’re wondering about.”
“Thank you.”
Sunset could only hope she hadn’t revealed too much about herself with that little inquiry. Flitwick didn’t press her on it though.
“And here we are,” Flitwick said, as they returned to the yard behind The Leaky Cauldron. “I’ve made all the arrangements with Tom, the innkeep you’ll recall. The fund has covered your stay up until the first of September, three days from now. You’ll have a room here and four meals per day until then. All your papers are in your bag I hope? Booklist, letter of admission?”
Sunset nodded, patting the bag.
“Good. Now, you are free to come and go as you like, both in Diagon Alley and muggle society, though I recommend you do not stray too far. London is a large and sometimes scary place,” Flitwick said, and his eyes became stern, though not unkind. “And you are of course not allowed to do magic around muggles, or there will be severe consequences. You are technically allowed to discuss magic subjects with them, though I don’t recommend it. The poor dears won’t understand and will probably think you’re funny in the head.”
Sunset kept herself from frowning in thought. Even on just one shopping trip she had picked up a lot of disdain for non-magical humans, and even the kind and patient Professor Flitwick didn’t seem to have very high thoughts about them.
“And of course follow the rules of underage magic. You also have the instructions on how to get to King’s Cross Station?” Flitwick asked.
“Yes.”
“Good, that should be everything. I realize it is a little frustrating to be stuck here, right by Diagon Alley, with no funds to entertain yourself. As a professor, it would be inappropriate to play favorites, but less so if it’s a secret. So… here.”
With a pleasant tinging sound, Flitwick flipped a golden coin at Sunset, who managed to catch it in her lap. “It’s not much, but it’ll buy you a meal on the Hogwarts Express. It’s a long ride.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sunset said, once again not having to fake any emotions.
“That should be everything. I’ll see you in a few days then.”
“See you, professor,” Sunset said, as Flitwick stepped into the fireplace and vanished.
Tom, who had stood patiently behind her, approached a little closer. “‘Ello again, Miss Shimma’, oi’ll show ya to ye room.”
Tom, like many others in this place, reminded Sunset of particularly rustic earth ponies. The urban kind you got in the really old parts of Fillydelphia.
She let herself fall down onto the bed, breathing long, heavy sighs of relief at having gone through the entire shopping round without any real hiccup. She calmed herself with making a list of things she needed to do, and starting to assign priorities.
She needed to find out more about the world, and figure out how to do that, as well as developing a feel for things in general, common names and such, pastimes, more human-specific terms and various things needed to blend in.
Start studying the subjects at school. That was a given. There was also the matter of the wand, a strange kind of magic not common in Equestria, with its own spells and rules and…
… That’s right. Speaking of spells, this had to come first.
She sat up and magically inspected herself. True enough, the sensation she had felt when passing through the hole in the brick wall was indeed from a spell. It was a strange one, but only because Sunset wasn’t very used to construction techniques in this world.
It was a surveillance spell, which fed information about magic readings on and around her to somewhere else- most likely that much-talked-about Ministry of Magic.
“Cast a spell on me, will you?” Sunset said, and held out her hands.
Magic power surged through her fingers as she prodded the weave of the magic.
Sunset strongly suspected that very few, if any, humans could detect and analyze magic like she could, since there were very few protections against tamperings with the spell. That did of course make Sunset inspect it even closer, in case a function like that was trickilly hidden, but no, it wasn’t.
With a few snips and some redirection, the surveillance spell was altered to only send negatives.
This was probably illegal, but Sunset felt as justified as she could. If people could cast spells on her without her consent, she could do what she wanted with them. If she wasn’t to tamper with it, the authorities should have informed her of it. How was she to know?
With a pleased smirk, Sunset was about to inspect her wand closer, when there was a knock on the door.
“Miss Shimma’? Dinner is ready.”
Wands later. It had been quite a day.