//------------------------------//
// Ch. 08. Starting with Nothing 
// Story: If Wishes Were Ponies, Book II 
// by tkepner 
//------------------------------//

The five humans in the meeting room stiffened. The Prime Minister and the Home and Foreign secretaries looked alarmed.

Princess Sparkle and Prince Blueblood looked glum and worried. She took a breath and sighed. “Several weeks ago . . .”

The humans exchanged alarmed looks.

“. . . three ponies pretending to be doctors went through the portal. They had a forged letter stating they were wanted at the Embassy. They passed through no fewer than five points where they were checked for being Changelings, and they passed easily. However, reviewing the memories of the event from the guards who saw them, we now know they somehow managed to cast a spell that prevented them from being checked for illusions. Illusions not cast with Changeling magic.” She stopped, pulled out her wand, and tapped the table. On top of the table appeared the exit side of the portal — a corridor with a door to either side. 

There was a brief flash of light as three people fell to the floor. Wearing the robes for transition, it was difficult to get a detailed look at them, especially as they fell to the floor in a pile. They heard a voice say, “Please remain calm, I’ll help you stand up.” Simultaneously, the group appeared to . . . ripple. A second later, three men stood up, without a trace of clumsiness.

“Thank you for your help,” one said loudly as he stood. “As you can see, we’re fine,” he continued firmly. “Everything is the way it should be. We can handle the dressing rooms by ourselves, no need to worry yourself about us.”

The three separated, two were women, they now saw, and the other, the one who had spoken, was a man.

The Princess tapped the table again, then things started going backwards very slowly. She stopped it at the moment they had looked up. “Take a good look at their faces,” she said dryly. The replay slowly started forward.

He could only see two clearly, and his first impression was of children. The faces weren’t as . . . mature . . . as they should be for men or women. Then the ripple swept over them . . . and they were two women and a man.

“I think that flash of light was a spell being cast, a confundus as the unicorn on duty failed to cast the two spells he was supposed to cast at this point. The confundus as its name implies makes one confused. Someone hit with that spell becomes confused, overly forgetful, and prone to follow simple orders without thinking about them.” She glanced at them to make sure they understood the implications.

“Notice how almost immediately after this, the appearances of the three change.”

It was true, Castor saw, the three suddenly looked older.

“Listen carefully,” she said, and sped up the replay to normal speed for a few moments. “The first statement, causes the one confunded to look to the caster for clues on what is happening and what to do. Note the words ‘we’re fine,’ with emphasis on the word fine. Similarly, the sentence, ‘Everything is the way it should be.’ Those, together with the ending that he shouldn’t worry about them, were all that was need to completely derail any suspicions the unicorn had, and prevented him from noticing the illusions just cast.”

She shook her head as the replay sped up for a few moments as the three dressed in the dressing rooms. She stopped when they exited, to give the men in the room a chance to study the two women and man revealed.

She took another deep breath. “They maintained this appearance all through the Embassy, and passed five more changeling checkpoints. No one thought to check for illusions, as the three were exiting the portal, not entering. If they had been using Changeling magic for the illusions, they would have immediately been detected.” She shook her head. “That, in conjunction with the confundus, leads me to conclude that they used a wand.

“They never showed their letter again, and simply walked out the front door. It’s clear they did extensive research, because they simply went into the night at that point. They knew what to expect, and acted accordingly. I’m sure the illusions we saw were discarded as soon as they were out of sight of the Embassy. 

“I have a folder of the prominent points of what happened for you to examine in detail, as well as a video.” She levitated two folders and two video cartridges out of her briefcase. She slid one set to each of the Secretaries.

“I never expected someone on the Equestrian side of the portal to be using wanded-magic to elude the protections. I’ve written up my conclusions and what we intend to do to prevent this in the future. 

“In short, we will be installing spells on all the doors and passages that perform the same as the changeling detection spells but also detect wanded illusions, then dispel them and stun the user. We will, of course, supply you with the new spells for your use in your own buildings.”

“As to those three? The only conclusion I can make it that they aren’t changelings. Because we don’t know what any of the other species on Equestria look like when they transit the portal, I can’t make a determination, at this point, that would exclude any of them. However, based on how well they knew our protection systems, they must know this was a one-way trip for them.”

She sighed and looked down dejectedly.

“Especially, as they must have known, someone eventually would have noticed that the three didn’t register at the Embassy and didn’t come back through. And we would close those loopholes.” She looked back up at the Prime Minister. “As we have.”

She floated a second set of fist-thick folders out of her briefcase. “Here are summaries of all the other species in Equestria that might have been able to steal a wand and might be able to use it well enough to cast an effective illusion — if they knew how.”


^-~-^


The next morning, Harry abruptly woke as Ginny, Hermione, and his herd-mates hopped onto his bed. They dragged him into his trunk and insisted on waiting in his sitting-room as he showered and dressed for the day. As they again exited the trunk, the sounds of pandemonium reached them from the common room. A quick dash down the stairs to see what was wrong showed him just what he should have expected to find wrong.

He finally had managed to train the Cutie Mark Crusaders, last year, to get dressed before they left their rooms. He was sure that Hermione and Ginny had been a big part of that. Unfortunately, the other Equestrians had not had anyone as adamant about that subject while they stayed at their houses on the Embassy grounds. As a result, the common room had several of the firsties wandering around without any clothes, and not understanding what the fuss from the other students was all about.

It didn’t help that the Equestrian girls had builds that put to shame many of the fourth-year girls. The wizards were awestruck. So were many of the witches, except they were also intensely jealous.

Harry could only put his face in his hands. He could just imagine the same scene playing out in the other three Houses. He knew, he knew, that there would be yet another rule added to the list by the Gryffindor entrance. No, a whole set of rules.

Many of the other rules that had, heretofore, only needed to be applied to Gryffindor, would soon be imposed on the other Houses, he realized. If they already hadn’t been, already.

Harry chewed his lower lip for a moment as he ran his hand through his hair. On second thought, he should probably advise them to add another rule, just to forestall any extreme reactions from the Equestrians if they happened to take a really good look into the Forbidden Forest.

With the help of his herd-mates, he managed to convince the other Equestrians to get back up the stairs, and to get dressed in their school robes for the rest of the day.

No sooner did the last grumbling girl hit the stairs, then a pegasus came gliding down the boy’s’ staircase with a gleeful, “squeeee!” Behind him came a running unicorn, complaining loudly, “No fair! You’re cheating!” The unicorn skidded to halt at the foot of the stairs as he realized everyone was staring at him. The pegasus shot up to the ceiling, hoping to evade attention. Harry studied them with narrowed eyes. “I hope you two are wearing your robes,” he said scowling. “If not, you’re going to have to go up and get them!”

Almost as fast as they had descended, the two went back up the stairs.

Harry sighed, and plopped down onto a couch. “Breakfast is going to be just smashing,” he said sarcastically. The girls settled around him, with Hermione and Ginny both agreeing. They remembered the difficulties of getting the fillies to cooperate last year. Only, this year, the Equestrians outnumbered the witches for the firsties.

Unfortunately, to everyone’s dismay — and especially the Gryffindor second-years — the portraits and paintings were now spelled to prevent anyone from using the book-walking spell on them. No more illicit escapes from the dormitories after curfew, or sneaking around the castle where no one could find them. There was also the issue that the spell and paintings had neatly bypassed the security on the girls’ side of the dormitories. 

It was disappointing. However, such a severe security hole as that, had to be fixed as quickly as possible, Harry knew. The older students seemed especially upset about that, for some reason. 

Well, it had been fun while it lasted.

He was right. A number of the firsties had managed to escape their common rooms without the benefit of clothing, and the reactions as they entered the Great Hall ranged from outraged and shocked, to stunned staring. None had even guessed at how well-developed the Equestrian girls were. 

Several tried to make it to their House tables as ponies, only to have their Head of House redirect them. The Professorial Aides were put to good use in escorting the miscreants back to their Houses and ensuring they understood the proper dress protocol expected at all meals!

The uproar lasted all through the meal. The owls arriving with the things some students had forgotten, or last-minute additions their parents thought they should have, didn’t help. 

Somehow, the professors managed to get the students their schedules.

It being Wednesday, their first class was Double Herbology, with the Hufflepuffs.

Professor Sprout was a squat witch with a large amount of earth on her clothes. She had flyaway hair on which she had perched a floppy wide-brimmed hat. “Greenhouse Three, chaps,” she said cheerfully as they approached the greenhouses that were her domain.

That was a surprise. They had only been in Greenhouse One, last year. The higher the number, the more dangerous the Greenhouse, the upper-years had always said. Somewhat cautiously, the herd entered the greenhouse with the rest of the class.

Soon, everyone had entered and was standing in front of a large trestle bench. Oddly, there were ear-muffs on the trestle in a veritable rainbow of colours. With eleven Hufflepuffs and fourteen Gryffindors, there were twenty-five sets of them. 

“This year’s major project is Mandrakes,” she said briskly. “We’ll start by repotting them.”

What followed was a brief lecture on the properties of the Mandrakes and several warnings on how dangerous they were. Apparently, the full-grown ones screamed as they were re-potted, and the screams were lethal, hence the ear-muffs. Even the small ones in the current pots could knock you out for several hours. They all quickly grabbed a pair and placed them over their ears. As soon as she saw they were ready for the next part, she grabbed the leaves coming from one small pot on the table, and yanked.

The sight of an ugly brown, almost black, wooden baby instead of the muddy roots he had been expecting was a shock to Harry. He could see that most of the other students were also surprised.

She plopped the baby into a larger pot, then quickly and efficiently buried him in the readied compost.

“There now!” she declared after removing her own earmuffs and indicating they could do so, too. “We have a hundred more to do, four to a tray. Mark your names on the trays, those will be the ones you’re responsible for this year.” She gave a smile to the Harry and his herd-mates. “Pots are over there,” she pointed. “Compost, there,” she pointed again. “Be sure to wear your ear-muffs at all times.” She paused a second. “Oh, beware of the Venomous Tentacula, it’s teething.” She absentmindedly slapped the vine that was stretching towards her.

They spread out around the table.

For the next hour and a half, they were busy wrestling the little beggars out of pots they didn’t want to release, and into pots they clearly didn’t like. What the professor had made look simple and easy, wasn’t. Most of them struggled to accomplish the task without getting bit, scratched, or both. Not surprisingly, Apple Bloom and Ron seemed to do it the easiest and quickest. Their mandrakes seemed almost happy to oblige them!

Finally, they had twenty-five trays of pots completed. The two earth ponies who were her aides were a big help at keeping an eye on everyone.

However, that didn’t stop two of the students falling victim to the Venomous Tentacula sneaking a vine around their necks without them, or the Professor, noticing until the last second. 

Fortunately, Professor Sprout let them leave the Greenhouse as soon as their task was complete. That gave them extra time to rush back to their dorms for a quick shower and still make it their next class. Harry knew Professor McGonagall wouldn’t have liked it if they had traipsed into her Transfigurations class looking, and smelling, as if they had just rolled in dragon dung.

Minerva McGonagall was a tall, bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun. After welcoming them back, she said, “These are my Professorial Aides for this class,” and indicated the wizard and witch beside her. “Mr. Bole will be teaching the Monday class and Miss Applesauce will be assisting in both classes.” As if her name weren’t enough of a clue, the witch’s bright green hair told everyone she was an Atlantean.

The class itself was a bit boring, Harry thought. The goal today was turning a beetle into a button. That was something they all could do last year. Not surprisingly, they did quite well. Probably because almost everyone in Gryffindor had visited Equestria at least once over the hols and had had a chance to practice magic there. By the end of the class, with a little assistance from the PAs, everyone easily succeeded. Not only didn’t the buttons have any indications that they once had been beetles, everyone was changing multiple beetles, simultaneously, into buttons!

He did remember to pass on his concerns to Professor McGonagall about what might happen if any of the new Equestrian students happened to catch a glimpse of either a unicorn or centaur in the Forbidden Forest. McGonagall was, after all their Head of House. He knew the Equestrian firsties had all been warned the previous month that unicorns and centaurs were to be found in the Forbidden Forest, but he knew they first time they saw either one, they would panic. At least none of them would faint. Maybe.

Lunch was next. Harry noted that the firsties’ end of the table was especially loaded with vegetarian and fish selections. As she had at breakfast, Hermione immediately pulled out a book, Voyages with Vampires. Unlike this morning, instead of just reading it, she disappeared inside it. Harry had to shake his head. They all had read the books at least once since they had purchased them. As stories of his adventures, they were quite entertaining, if you ignored the many pages on personal grooming and fashion. As texts for a DADA class? He wasn’t so sure. The herd had already noted that at least two of the books took place on opposite sides of the world at the same time, yet neither book explained or mentioned the overlap.

After filling up with as much as they could eat, they retired to the front courtyard. Hermione again disappeared into her book with the book-walking spell. Looking around the courtyard, Harry could see that she wasn’t the only witch pulling out one of the seven DADA books. Notably, none of the wizards were doing that. Neither were the Equestrian witches.

That was when Harry got to meet his most ardent male fanboy.

The boy’s face was almost beet-red as he came over to the little group. He stopped by them and took a deep breath. “All right, Harry?” he said breathlessly, “I’m — I’m Colin Creevey.” He took a tentative step closer. “I was wondering . . . would it be all right, would you mind, if . . . if I took a picture?” he said hopefully, raising his camera.

Harry sighed. “Well,” he said hesitantly, and looked at his friends and herd-mates. While it didn’t happen often, even in Equestria he sometimes had someone come over and ask if they could take a picture. Since he had been adopted by Twilight, and her status as a Princess, it had brought him a bit of notoriety. Not even the Ponyville residents were immune. 

Prince Blueblood had told him that unless they were interrupting something important, intruding where they shouldn’t, or being a nuisance, he should always try to accommodate the commoners with pictures and autographs. If you were going to be in the public’s eye, the least you could do was not make enemies of them

The last thing you wanted, he had said, was to alienate ponies for no good reason. Plus, word that you were pleasant with commoners got around, and made them less likely to believe the nasty rumours that papers tended to print from time to time. 

It made it harder for the papers to make you out as a villain when everyone you met, except the nobles and reporters, said good things about you to their friends.

“It’s so I can prove I’ve met you,” said Colin Creevey eagerly, nodding and edging closer. “I know all about you,” he explained confidently, and went on for few more sentences to prove he did know a bit about Harry. “Plus, I haven’t done it yet, but a fifth-year said the pictures’ll move if I use the right potion on the film!” And then explained why he wanted the pictures — to prove to his surprised parents that Hogwarts was real, that Harry Potter-Sparkle was real. Then he looked imploringly at Harry and half-begged, “Maybe I could stand next to you, you know, and one of your — herd-mates? — could take it? And then, maybe, after I develop it, you could sign it?” He paused briefly. “And I could make copies for your mother?”

Harry had waited patiently for the nervous boy to finish, but before he could say anything, his least favourite wizard made an appearance.

“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos, Potter?” There was more than a hint of disbelieving outrage in the tones.

It was Draco Malfoy. 

Crabbe and Goyle, as always when Draco was at Hogwarts, stood beside and slightly behind him. They tried to appear threatening with their large sizes, but at this point in life, they merely looked overweight and slightly constipated. Harry suspected the trio were in a relationship, even though they vociferously denied it the few times Harry and the fillies had acknowledged it.

Harry hadn’t realized the wizard had even come outside.

Malfoy looked around at the scattered students enjoying the sun, and loudly proclaimed, “Everyone line up!” He waved his arms indicating everyone should come up. “Harry Potter’s giving out signed photos!” He turned back to Harry and sneered.

Harry shook his head wryly. Apparently, he had either forgotten, or hadn’t meant, his attempt at a friendship. For an ambitious, clever, and sneaky Slytherin, Draco was a dismal failure.

“Malfoy,” he said dryly as he stood up, “You don’t understand at all, do you? Colin, here,” he turned to the smaller boy, “You don’t mind if I call you Colin, do you?” he said quietly. 

The boy excitedly shook his head. “No! No, not at all.”

“You can call me Harry, then.” He turned back to Malfoy. “Colin, here,” he nodded to the grinning boy, “has offered to take pictures of me and my herd-mates to send to our families in exchange for a few pictures for his parents.” He raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Wouldn’t your parents appreciate a picture of you standing with the main castle entrance in the background? Or wouldn’t you like a picture to commemorate your time at school with . . . friends? Hmm?” He gave a significant look to Crabbe and Goyle.

Malfoy was staring at him, puzzled and surprised that he hadn’t gotten a rise out of the other. His boyfriends were exchanging their glances and from their expressions he saw they realized their parents didn’t have any photographs of them at school.

He turned to Colin. “How much does a roll of film and developing cost, Colin?”

Surprised, Colin had to think. He frowned in concentration. “Ah, six sickles for a thirty-six roll? Maybe a galleon for the potion? Then the cost of the parchment? I’m not sure . . ..”

Harry nodded as he did the math in his head. “Alright, that’ll do for a start. If you fall short, I’ll front you the costs, don’t worry.” It wasn’t likely. If he had the math right, the film and developing cost was about twenty-two pounds — four galleons, six sickles, and twenty-three knuts — and thirty-six pictures at five sickles each would double that. A good return on his time and effort.

He took a deep breath. “HEY EVERYBODY!” he shouted. “FOR FIVE SICKLES, COLIN WILL TAKE A PICTURE OF YOU WITH THE CASTLE IN THE BACKGROUND. A GREAT CHRISTMAS PRESENT FOR YOUR PARENTS! IF YOU’RE INTERESTED COME HERE!”

Everyone was staring at him. He gestured at his friends, who had all slowly gotten to their feet with Malfoy’s intrusion. He turned back to Colin, who had a slightly shell-shocked expression.

A line quickly formed, mostly filled with Equestrians, at first. Colin started with pictures of Harry and Harry and his herd-mates, both individually, together, and as ponies. Then he handed the camera to Hermione and she took a couple of him with Harry, in both forms as well. 

Then he started on everyone else. 

Unfortunately, Colin had brought only one extra roll of film. He was about to apologize that he didn’t have enough to do everyone here, right now, when Hermione volunteered to take pictures while he ran back to the dorm for more film. When Colin got back, a seventh year volunteered to duplicate the rolls to increase his supply. Colin would have the film developed and the photographs made long before the film dispelled itself.

Malfoy glared at his boyfriends when they joined the line. Goyle shrugged his shoulders and said, “Mum would love a photo,” as Crabbe nodded beside him.

A rather large number asked if Harry would join them for a picture, as long as he was there.

Colin was focused entirely on picture taking, so Harry’s only warning that things were about to change was when Hermione and Ginny suddenly sported silly smiles while looking slightly to one side.

“What’s all this?” he heard behind him and to one side.

When he turned and looked, he saw it was Gilderoy Lockhart, again dressed in his baby-blue robes, headed towards them. He had a toothy smile and his turquoise robes swirled behind him, almost like Professor Snape’s did, but a lot less like a giant bat. “Who’s giving out signed photos?”

Harry watched the wizard approach and remembered his attempts to grab Harry at the bookstore. He dodged behind Hermione. “Colin, here,” he said, “Has offered to take pictures of anyone who wanted to send one to their parents. Almost none of us have a picture we can send our parents of us at Hogwarts.” He shrugged. “For some reason,” and he well-knew what it was but it would be vulgar to say it out loud, “some of them want a picture of me with them.”

“Did he, now?” the Professor said, giving the boy an evaluating look as he lined up a shot for his next customer. Hermione had volunteered to write down the names and Houses of those who had wanted a picture and how many were taken. He was on his fifth roll. Harry was rather impressed with just how well the duplication spell was working and wanted to learn it.

Lockhart adroitly manoeuvred around Hermione as he said, “Well then, Mr. Creevey,” beaming at the boy. He placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder and pulled him close. “A double portrait of England’s top two celebrities would be quite the thing, wouldn’t it now? We’ll both sign it for you!”

Harry had to admit, the wizard was smooth. Objecting would cause an unnecessary scene. He smiled a smile he knew was fake, but would do for the moment. They moved over in front of Colin as his previous subject moved off.

After the picture was taken, Harry enthusiastically said, “You know, I bet there are a lot of students who would love to have a picture of themselves with you!” The witches in the audience around them visibly brightened at the prospect. And crowded a bit closer as they hopefully looked up at the vain wizard, wanting him to say yes.

Harry slipped to one side as Lockhart looked over the witches staring at him worshipfully. Harry nudged Hermione forward, taking the scroll from her hands and handing it a nearby witch with a casual, “Here, would you take care of this, please?” It worked rather well. After both Ginny and Hermione had had their pictures taken with the wizard, Harry and the herd managed to sneak away from the crowd. They headed for the castle, the two girls giggling happily at the thought of their personal pictures.

The cutie mark crusaders just shrugged. His “dreamy” appearance, as Scootaloo put it, didn’t appeal to them as much as it did the witches. Nor did having signed copies of a book they didn’t care about matter that much.

Professor Lockhart was late to their first class of Defence Against the Dark Arts, class, which Harry found vastly amusing. It was also his first class, too.

However, he quickly captured the classes’ attention. Like their other professors, Lockhart started by giving them a test — but it was on himself, amazingly. What was his favourite colour, what was his favourite food, when was his birthday? — those were just a few of the questions on both sides of the parchments he handed out. Halfway through the questions, disgusted, Harry started writing nonsensical answers. This had nothing to do with DADA. His books had been interesting, but the information about the creatures seemed a bit suspect — werewolves were notoriously powerful, more than strong enough to defeat a wizard in hand-to-hand fighting. Yet, he claimed to have fought one off long enough to cast a spell — a spell that no one else seemed to know that would force a werewolf back to a man or woman. Such a spell should have been in regular use for the years since that book was written! Harry knew Remus Lupine, his godfather’s friend, would have loved to have that spell at hand every full-moon.

Of course, now it wasn’t needed. The werewolves visiting Equestria were well on their way to making the werewolf curse a thing of the past.

Then Lockhart went through the papers quickly right in front of the class, giving a running commentary on answers some had missed. He gave Harry a curious look when he reached his parchment, his smile going to a slight wrinkling of his forehead, before he continued on.

Most of the class earned points for their answers, as book-walking made it easy to memorize. And everyone, at least the girls, that is, had read the books cover to cover before school had started, at least once. Hermione was on her fourth or fifth read-through, Harry thought. Plus, unlike their other dry and boring text-books that simply recited fact after fact, Lockhart’s books were actually interesting! They might not contact much hard facts, but they were a fascinating read.

Then, as he carefully placed the parchments in a drawer, he said, “Now to business.” He leaned over and carefully lifted a large, covered, square cage onto his desk.

He gave them a solemn look, “Be warned!” he said gravely, “In this class you will learn about the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! Your worst fears might appear in front of you.” He swept a glance across the room. “It is my job to prepare you to face those dangers.” Then he smiled. “Be assured, however, that you are safe with me. No permanent harm can befall you whilst I am here.”

The class watched apprehensively as Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Harry and the fillies gave each other quite glances. They gripped their wands and prepared themselves for something unpleasant.

“I ask you all to not disclose what you’re about to see.” He glanced ominously around the room. “It would spoil the lesson when I present it to the other classes.”

Harry and the girls exchanged discomfited glances. That wasn’t an ominous statement, now was it?


^·_·^