In the silence that followed the gray stallion's disappearance, Celestia's gaze slowly turned to Blueblood.
And for the first time in his life, Blueblood realized that he might have crossed a line. He never even knew there was a line that could be crossed before that day. But now, he knew he had crossed it.
Mr. Book was surprised, even shocked, at the Equestrian government's response.
Earlier, he allowed himself to admit to the possibility of Celestia reversing her court's decision in some way, even if it was statistically unlikely to an extreme degree. But this...
BLUEBLOOD ARRESTED! began the title of Quick Quill's most recent article.
Blueblood had been convicted of third-degree assault – a charge exactly matching his actions in court – and the prince had not been allowed to avoid the sentence with a mere monetary fine. He was serving jail time, albeit the minimum sentence of 6 months. Third-degree assault was called a "wobbler" crime by the local legal codes, classified by the judge (Celestia, in this case) as either a misdemeanor or a felony depending on the circumstances. She felt these circumstances warranted felony status. And since the public eye was so heavy upon his cell, Blueblood was not given any luxuries. Or at least, he was given no more luxury than any other criminal.
Which is unfortunate, Mr. Book thought. Criminals here are treated far better than criminals on the other side of the mirror. Still, Blueblood had not been able to bribe his way out of this one, nor bribe his way into better treatment. And Blueblood was not the only pony to suffer the cold arm of justice.
Thanks to one of his many departing comments, the guard had been investigated for corruption, and more than a few bribe-accepting ponies had been ferreted out. This might seem like a 'good' step, but then, guards are still ordinary ponies at the end of the day. The authority they only temporarily wield when they don their armor can easily be turned against themselves. There's plenty of historical precedent for that.
What truly surprised Mr. Book was the fact that the nobles had been investigated. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the servants had been investigated, starting with the pony he had described – a pearl-coated, black-maned earth pony maid.
Princess Luna, former bearer of the Element of Honesty, and Applejack, current bearer, had been called in by Celestia. The presence of those two, apparently, exerted a sort of "honesty" aura that overcame the ordinary fear that might have otherwise halted the speech of the victims. (Was that why he had been compelled to tell the truth to Nightmare Moon a few months ago?)
Blueblood had pressured the maid into doing the sorts of things that powerful males have historically pressured powerless females into doing. She was, at one point, asked if she knew about others who had been similarly pressured. Following this, many marred maids and bruised butlers were brought to bear before the court.
Those who had been victimised were given monetary compensation, the option to relocate to a new city, the offer of a job that suited them (as most ponies did not get jobs that reflected their special talents), and the official protection of the crown. Those who had done the victimising received, essentially, the opposite treatment. First, the monetary compensation issued to the victims came directly from the responsible parties.
Second, once the worst nobles had been isolated for inquiry, the Elements of Honesty – present and former – had been used against them as well. After abuse had been admitted, the nobles were coerced into confessing all crimes committed.
Celestia spearheaded the show, with many instances of power abuse being discovered and punished. The specific forms of 'abuse' were extremely tame by human standards, but by pony standards...
The aristocrats not serving life sentences would be placed under house arrest for the rest of their lives. They and their families were stripped of their nobility, cutting the number of noble families in half. Finally, only the family members uninvolved in and ignorant of the abuse were given any sort of sympathy – those few ponies were allowed to keep enough of the estate's wealth to live comfortably, if not luxuriously. The rest of the wealth was confiscated by the crown.
Ordinarily, Mr. Book would have concluded that this had been the end goal all along: a monarchy increasing its own wealth and power by cannibalising its own. The trials, only for show. The aid to the victims, only for image. Everything, a public excuse for increased political and financial sway.
But...
Even with his cynicism, his mind did not fully commit to that conclusion. The crown didn't need the extra power, after all. And it's not like he'd predicted any of this in advance. As Mr. Silver liked to say, if a hypothesis is equally good at explaining any outcome, it has little scientific value.
It's strange.
Mystery Book got the sense all this would have been done even without him threatening journalistic action. This was one of those rare instances, it seemed, where Princess Celestia had gotten personally involved, and she was making it clear that she was immensely displeased with the nobility. This happened once every few centuries, according to the history books. That it did not happen more often is why he didn't consider it a statistical probability.
And for the first time in a thousand years, Princess Luna was also involved. The two sisters were united unlike they'd been not just in recent history, but in all of recorded history.
Celestia had once been the wielder of Generosity, Kindness, and "Magic", while her sister ruled the other three – Honesty, Loyalty, and Laughter. This had purportedly put them at odds. Celestia had been far more forgiving than Luna at the start of their reigns, and that had been the source of many arguments. The Princess of Night demanded punishment be delivered to the wicked while the Princess of Day decided to forgive and forget.
But that had slowly changed. As Celestia had been forced to adopt Luna's role for centuries (though she could not wield her sister's elements, or even her own anymore), so too had Celestia adopted a deeper understanding of justice, law, and punishment. Celestia might be slower to anger than her sister. Even after a thousand years. Even after witnessing the worst ponykind had to offer (which was, again, tame compared to humanity's worst). But Celestia could now bring herself to punish a pony if the situation required it, not just offer aid to the victims.
In his own case, for example, Blueblood had been imprisoned.
The 10,000 bits he had originally paid to increase his priority, along with 20,000 bits collected from Blueblood's vault, had been delivered to his hooves. (For although Blueblood had not been able to get away with a mere fine, the prince had still been fined, and the maximum felony fine at that.)
Also, the order for 'Mystery Book's' arrest had been immediately nullified by Celestia.
A royal apology had been issued.
Oh, and his original petition to the Day Court had been examined as well.
By Celestia, not the nobles.
He had been planning to return to Canterlot University only to borrow things without permission. And that wasn't even a euphemism for stealing. He would have returned the books after reading them, lest their absences be noticed, and stricter security implemented.
It was a plan he had not been expecting to go astray.
Mr. Book now sat in the office of Twilight Velvet, Dean of Magic at Canterlot University.
Many concessions had been made to appease the non-unicorn population of Equestria, not least of which was that Mystery Book's academic situation would get fair review. There were even a few outside third parties in attendance, listening in on the meeting to ensure that outcome. The issue had just been thoroughly and carefully negotiated by all parties.
First, his grade would not suffer from his absences.
He did have witness testimony. The professor had told him to leave in a way that could possibly be construed as providing permission not to attend.
Second, despite his insistence, Ms. Cast Steel would not be fired, but she would be placed on temporary leave while other professors examined her teaching methods.
Third, Mr. Book would still be required to take her original test.
All parties agreed he had to prove that his absences would not have impacted his score on that exam, as he originally claimed. If he did not pass, he would not be allowed to return to the University. Magic is a core subject, after all.
As to who would grade that exam, since Ms. Steel certainly would not...
"No," Mr. Book rejected Mrs. Velvet's suggestion. "I must insist that an outsider – unconcerned with the repute of this school, ignorant of the controversy, and unbribable by Canterlot nobles – be the one to grade my exam after I have taken it. At the very least, it must not be a university professor. Unless, of course, you want this case to return to court as a consequence of incompetent or biased graders, to whom I would certainly object."
There was a pause.
"I am afraid," said Twilight Velvet through gritted teeth, "that you will find nopony capable of grading an advanced magic exam outside these halls. And I won't even dignify the rest with a response."
"Yes," said Mr. Book sarcastically, "just as Blueblood did not dignify those within these halls whom he could not bribe with a response. Or perhaps he dignified them with the response of a threat, as he is clearly prone to do. Or was prone to do, rather. I wonder if prison will change his outlook."
Before Twilight Velvet could reply, Mr. Book addressed her objection.
"Other than the Princesses themselves, who are ponies outside these halls who should be able to grade an advanced magic exam, I can think of one neutral arbiter. Twilight Sparkle, Element of... 'Magic'. She would never grade a test unfairly, especially not one about magic, and is therefore unlikely to be biased against me. And as she dislikes my demeanour, she is unlikely to be biased in my favour either."
Already incensed, the mare loudly demanded, “How do you know my daughter?!"
"I helped her during the Nightmare Moon incident," Mr. Book said easily. "Unlike her friends and family in Canterlot." Then, ignoring the wide eyes, "Hmm... she is your daughter? I admit I am impressed with how she turned out... despite her parenting. The apple falls far from the tree, does it not?"
It was, perhaps, fortunate for Twilight Velvet that she did not get the chance to respond to this, otherwise she may have done something in front of witnesses that she would have regretted. Or she might have attempted to do something, rather. Mr. Book could defend himself.
"Do you have to insult everypony you meet in the worst way possible?" interjected one of the third-party observers, the only unicorn among them, and one he recognised from that day in Day Court.
"Only the ones undeserving of my respect," said Mr. Book to the royal witness. "Though I do not see how complimenting a pony's daughter could be construed as an insult. Jokes aside, had Mrs. Velvet judged my case fairly from the start out of professionalism, rather than a result of heavy outside pressure... or if she had judged the case at all, instead of immediately issuing it to a different dean, do you truly believe I would treat her as I am?"
"Yes," said a different witness.
There were many nods around the room.
"Well," he grinned again, "perhaps you are right. But I would not have been this deliberately offensive. Isn't freedom of speech a wonderful thing? Now," he declared. "I believe a viable solution has been proposed. If there are any objections to Twilight Sparkle, Element of 'Magic', evaluating my magical knowledge, now would be the time to voice them."
There were no objections.
A/N: The smartest child in my elementary school – other than me :) – was a girl whose father was the Dean of the History department at our local college. And our local college is pretty large, with over 25,000 students. While I was good at math, she was good at reading. My own father eventually became a professor of Biology at that same college, having earned his PhD in the subject while I was growing up.
The children of academics are more likely than other children to become stellar academics themselves. That's one of the more subtle points of HPMoR. Harry's father is an eminent biochemist at Oxford, one of Britain's two best colleges.
Having Twilight Sparkle's parents be notable academics – especially her mother, who would serve as her direct role model – is a rational explanation for Twilight's 'talents'. This doesn't mean I'm writing the story such that her mother has been the Dean of Magic ever since Twilight was born – she could have just been a professor at the time and climbed the career ladder since. But that's the reasoning for making her mother a prominent academic. Especially in the field of magic.
That's all. Proceed.
"After I grade his paper," Twilight Sparkle said in the ensuing meeting, "may I grade the other papers as well? Or, better yet, submit an independent test to see how well everypony knows the material they should know by this point? I don't mean to be rude... actually, I do mean to be rude, but not to any of you. I want to be certain a good teacher isn't demoted because he said so."
All the students save himself performed anywhere from well to adequately to poorly on Ms. Sparkle's independent test. Unfortunately, their performances exactly matched their prior knowledge as demonstrated on the University entrance exams. In short, they had learned nothing new. After three separate professors triple-checked Twilight's test, what it asked, and how the students performed, the administration was forced to concede that Advanced Magic 101 was not being taught properly, and that former professor Cast Steel had been giving easy tests to hide the fact.
That is the story of how Twilight Velvet undertook the role of Professor of Advanced Magic 101 while administration looked for a more permanent replacement, and the story of how Twilight Sparkle became an academic consultant to Canterlot University.
At the end of it all, during the final meeting in which the Dean was forced to reinstate him as a student in front of the same crop of witnesses, Mr. Book said, "My assessment of you was correct. You have reversed your decision from outside influence, as I said you would. I am not a weak little student, Mr. List. I am smarter, wiser, and more experienced than you. Do keep this in mind if you think to challenge me again."
Mr. List's reaction to this remark was not verbal.
Mr. Book made a mental note to save this memory for later.
Mr. Silver was right. The facial expressions are priceless, and corpses don't have those. Well, not more than one.
Torture and murder used to be the go-to. For now, embarrassment and public shame would have to do. The constraint did make things interesting, he had to admit.
Two weeks later...
Mr. Book sat in language class, reading to himself. He needed no education in this department, but the class was mandatory. On the positive view, it was the single class where he enjoyed a quiet reprieve.
Ever since his very public return, all his other professors had begun regularly questioning him during lecture. Now that the 'secret' of his race was this publicly known, it seemed that many believed he did not belong here and sought to prove it.
He was often asked difficult questions, which he was certain 99% of other students would not be able to answer, but which he answered without fail. From a Ravenclaw perspective, there was some benefit to being irregularly quizzed... but it quickly grew old.
He had already begun counter-questioning his professors, enjoying the feeling of satisfaction when they refused to answer questions he knew they should be able to answer, but couldn't. They would always claim some excuse or another, like that they could not waste class time, despite already wasting it to single him out, and Mr. Book always pointed out to the wider class that a truly adept scholar should have no trouble answering his seemingly simple questions, just as he's had no trouble answering theirs. You'd think this would serve as a disincentive for singling him out. But no, his professors were too stupid to see the pattern so quickly.
He particularly enjoyed the moment his physics professor – who was not quite as bad as the others – claimed that no pony-made, non-magical objects were capable of generating lift without heat. (Ponies had invented hot air balloons, but not planes.) In response to that claim, Mr. Book assembled a paper plane and threw it across the room.
The professor dropped his lecture, dismissed the class, and took the plane with him as he hastily hurried from the room. When a few of Mr. Book's classmates asked him how he made it, he realised that paper airplanes had likely not been conceived in this country until just that moment. He did not hesitate to teach them how to make their own, just on the off chance they used this forbidden knowledge to annoy their other professors.
A/N: You might think this is implausible. That the ponies of Equestria should know about paper airplanes already. As a historical note, paper airplanes were invented in 1909, six years after the Wright Brothers made the first actual airplane in 1903. In short, if MLP doesn't have airplanes, it probably doesn't have paper planes either. And MLP is never shown to have airplanes, as far as I know.
It was only thanks to his Literature professor's low expectations of him that he was not regularly questioned in her sessions. He could enjoy a bit of peace and quiet.
"Mystery Book?"
If harassment started happening in this class as well, he might just raise another fuss.
Mr. Book looked up from the book he was reading. That was how he discovered that, sometime in the past three minutes (the last time his eyes had lifted from his book to examine his surroundings) a new pony had silently entered the room.
It was the blue-maned unicorn from that day in Day Court. The one who had claimed he could not be bribed. Quick Quill informed him afterward that the stallion was Captain of the Royal Guard.
At the moment, the Captain was not in uniform.
Mr. Book discretely drew a portkey. With that security in place, he decided to amuse himself.
"I didn't do it."
This line tended to have a certain effect on those who enforce laws.
"What, exactly, didn't you do?" the unicorn asked, smoothly transitioning from passive to interrogative.
So predictable.
"I didn't kill the head of the royal guard, wear his corpse as a second skin, and plot to use his position to assassinate a princess."
Much of the class was staring at him in some horror, though at least a few were laughing.
"I suggest you be careful of the jokes you tell in front of random strangers," the unicorn advised with a scowl. "You never know who they might be."
"Oh, I was being quite careful, captain. Was there something you wanted?"
There was a pause.
"The princess has requested your presence at the royal palace."
In a deadpan, "Am I meant to have a choice in the matter?"
With the portkey, he had a choice whether Celestia meant for him to have one or not. But did she was the question.
"Yes," said the unicorn. "You aren't being forced to do anything."
Interesting, thought Mr. Book. "And if I am too busy?"
The surrounding unicorns gasped, likely at the thought that a normal pony could possibly be too busy for a princess.
"The princess understands that you have classes," answered the unicorn. "You may go to the royal palace after they are over. Or mail your schedule to the royal palace and work out a better time if you can't meet today or tonight."
"I am curious how you would distinguish my letter from the many others that reach the palace every day," Mr. Book said, "and how you protect those who open them from potential traps." Then, before the unicorn could respond, "But I can sate that curiosity later."
His books floated to his pouch and disappeared into it, a sight common enough that his fellow students no longer blinked.
He let them believe it was some sort of device. Perhaps because, in the week after his re-instatement, he had used an enchanted necklace to levitate his books in a purposefully flagrant fashion. When he stopped using the necklace, most assumed he simply relocated it beneath his cloak. This might have had something to do with how he articulated, multiple times, that necklaces do not have to be worn around a pony's neck. A technically true statement. It wasn't his fault if those who heard it went on to form false assumptions.
The white unicorn – who had not formed any assumptions as yet – stared in shock at the casual display of hornless magic.
Once Mr. Book had descended the stairs and reached the exit, he dipped his head in the direction of the door. "After you."
"How did you levitate those books?" the unicorn asked once the door shut behind them.
"Smoke and mirrors," Mr. Book said as they walked down the university hall.
The white unicorn frowned. "How did you really do it?"
"Magic trick."
The unicorn frowned further.
No more words were exchanged between them as they walked to their destination.
Tall the palace gates, large the palace doors, and long the palace halls.
"Reporting," said the white unicorn after knocking on a door which looked like all the others, except that two armoured ponies guarded it. "I've brought the one you requested, Princess Luna."
Not Celestia? Mr. Book thought. Hmm...
"Ah, yes," came what was apparently the amplified voice of the Night Princess from the other side. The doors, encased in a purple glow, opened to reveal an indigo alicorn with azure mane, surrounded by books and parchments. "We thank thou... Shining Armour, was it?"
The white unicorn named Shining Armour gave a bow. "Yes, your majesty."
"Excellent," she clapped her hooves. "Thou hast done well. Thou may take thy leave, Captain."
The Captain of the Royal Guard seemed to hesitate. "Your majesty... are you sure you do not want guard presence within the chamber? This particular pony... I mean, it could be dangerous-"
"LEAVE, CAPTAIN!"
The Captain left, and he entered. The door closed behind him.
"So, Mystery Book," said the Princess, expressionless. "'We finally meet the pony who hath caused our sister so much trouble."
Mr. Book readied himself to, at the first hint of aggression or danger, use his portkey, which had never left his grip. If conflict were to occur, he could not currently go the simple route of leveling his wand and saying Avada Kedavra. The correct tactic would therefore be to teleport away, and anti-portkey wards are nonexistent here.
The pony before him is Magical.
She has Power.
He did not know if his own power could overcome hers. And unlike the incident in Celestia's court, there were no witnesses.
Under the circumstances, that meant the ideal approach would be...
"Your majesty," he acknowledged aloud. He considered for a moment, then carefully executed a pony genuflect, such as he had seen in ancient portraits. Those portraits, according to dates which may or may not be accurate, were at least nine hundred years old, and so the gesture had a chance of being recognized by the pony before him. The position forced his eyes down and shut, but his senses were still heightened, his occlumency barriers still in full force, his portkey still active and ready.
"Rise, subject," said the Princess. "We have a request of thou, and we cannot ask it whilst thou prostrate thyself so."
After following the order, he saw she wore a beaming smile.
"Request away," he said flippantly. He still attempted to goad ineptness out of government authority from time to time.
It didn't work.
"In the months since our return," began the princess, seeming to appreciate his irreverence, rather than balk at it, "we have diligently searched for a pony to fill a certain position. Many have desired the role, but none ever satisfied our tastes. We suspected the same would be true of this era, that a thousand years of 'progress' would yet fail to produce a pony capable of handling that delicate and wonderful responsibility."
If she asked him to become a concubine, he was going to say Crucio followed by Avada Kedavra, despite the fact that neither spell would work with his promises in place. Ponies didn't know what those incantations meant. Well, even still, perhaps he would think them, not say them aloud, just in case the princess did know.
"Mystery Book, how wouldst thou like to become the royal fool?"