After the Vows, it was back to the long, incremental march of progress.
Silver and Memory took academic subjects at their respective skill levels, not their grade levels. They didn't share as many classes as they did at Hogwarts; Memory was ahead of Silver in reading and Silver was ahead of Memory in math. The only subjects they shared were science and magic. Silver was especially attentive in his Psychology class, which included elements of what human scientists would have called cognitive science and behaviorism.
Minus the whole 'herd mentality' thing the ponies have going on, humans and ponies seemed to have very similar brains. Ponies seemed to suffer from the same cognitive biases, commit the same errors in reasoning, make the same logical fallacies for the same reasons as humans. They even shared many facial gestures like smiling and frowning.
It was coincidental enough that humans and ponies were so mentally similar in the first place (further evidence that the mirror created the world, instead of finding an existing one to teleport him to), but what Silver found truly telling was the amount of focus that ponies placed on happiness, mental health, and wellbeing.
He still wasn't absolutely certain that the mirror had made this world to fulfill his and Riddle's wishes. But if it did, these textbooks pointed at one of his own wishes in particular: the wish that his mentor would find true happiness. That wish was one of his deepest desires for many reasons, not the least of which being that it would turn a homicidal menace to society into an indispensable force for good. And even if the mirror wasn't setting things up that way, he'd still give it his own personal best shot to turn that wish into reality. Screw destiny and screw fate. He'd already shown the Sorting Hat what for when he didn't become a Dark Lord. Saving the other Tom Riddle from darkness would be like earning bonus points in a video game, or extra credit on a test. If he could pull it off. Which was why he was so focused on his Psychology class at the moment.
Humans tended to look at the field of Psychology to simply understand human behaviours, especially criminality and psychosis. Sure, a lot of effort was being made to cure and/or treat psychosis, but a lot of effort was also being made to understand things like language development, intelligence, and cognitive bias.
Ponies had examined many of the same things, but always with the end goals of friendship and harmony in mind. Ponies tended to look at the field of Psychology as a study of happiness and how to achieve it, not as a study of unchangeable behavioral patterns and habits. His textbook described techniques for overcoming addiction. It mentioned methods for removing stress and improving mental health. It outlined step-by-step prep guides for finding true fulfillment and meaning in life.
It seemed very close to the muggle self-help industry that his dad had once described to him. According to Professor Michael Verres-Evans, people who are seeking out help make for excellent targets. Many bad actors make a living by swindling poor, gullible victims out of the small salaries they earn in the name of 'self-improvement', 'home remedies', and other quack 'therapies'. Faith healers, 'mediums' who claim they can speak to dead relatives, and snake oil salesmen are some of the most well-known manifestations of that scam. It was not good that Silver was being reminded of them by the material he was trying to study.
Thankfully, the pony Psychology textbooks – unlike the textbooks he'd read on pegasus magic – included many replicated, peer-reviewed, double-blinded and controlled studies with random assignment, large sample and effect sizes, and strong statistical significance. (Almost like it was tailor-made to address the concern about self-help.) Ponies took happiness very seriously, and so did the pony scientists.
One study in particular which considered revolutionary by ponies (and which he would be showing to Mr. Tome later) was about the 'play' circuit found within mammal brains. He was positive it applied to humans, too, once he dismissed his skepticism and accepted the information as fact.
The experiment goes like this:
When you take two rats and pair them together for play, one rat usually dominates the other. That isn't the revolutionary part. The interesting thing is that if you paired them together again, the weaker rat wouldn't want to play if the dominant rat didn't let it win 30% of the time. And rats want to play, regardless of strength or status. They seek it out like food or water. Sometimes at the expense of food and water. They desperately want social interaction. So even if the dominant rat could win 100% of the time, it would occasionally allow itself to be beaten just so the game could continue.
Silver had wondered if a similar study had already been done in any muggle universities without his awareness, or if the mirror really was advanced enough to add this much detail to a fabricated world. Or did the mirror establish the world's underlying rules and then just allow thousands of years of history to generate itself based on those rules? Time wouldn't be an issue to the mirror...
Anyway, Silver had instantly attempted to apply the material to real life.
Thanks to the study, he understood why he'd begun to resent dueling club. His win-loss ratio was something like 1-4 at the moment, which was just below the threshold where rats would stop playing. He simply wasn't used to moving in a pony body in a combat setting, so he was struggling to keep up. The spells available to first-years at Hogwarts were more diverse and interesting than the spells available to ponies of the same age group, but they were less powerful. Much of what he already knew would simply bounce off his opponent's shields. He had to learn a collection of 'standard' spells from the ground up before he could become competitive.
In the meantime, he lost.
Over and over.
Duel after duel.
Initially, it was thanks to Mr. Tome's warning that he didn't quit. Mr. Tome had warned that he would lose many duels, and some of them would be humiliating. Everyone starts out that way.
Expect to lose. Expect to be non-dominant. You are a beginner.
That had allowed Silver to put on a good face for the first day. Going from the colt who won a fight against the teacher and the best duelist to being the colt who lost duels against the weakest duelers had hurt his pride, but he had been expecting it. He bore that loss, and many more, with false grace.
But faking emotions became harder as he became more exhausted – and harder still as the resentment built.
It was only thanks to understanding the 'play' circuit that he came to terms with what he was feeling. He was below the playful cooperation threshold. Well below, if the pony or human threshold is higher than 30%. It's only natural to feel resentment when you only win one out of every five battles. Combine that with his personality quirk of HATING TO LOSE, and he had a wonderful storm bottling up inside him.
Had.
Not anymore.
Now that he understands his emotions, he can tolerate them. He had learned to lose from Professor Quirrell, and now he was learning to lose repeatedly. To lose some more, as Peregrine Derek had once said.
It was different from his initial failure and eventual success in flight class. He hadn't been competing with anypony in particular. He'd been competing with nature itself, in a way, but he hadn't been facing down another sapient life form in a clear contest of will and skill and strength.
Losing to a pony was harder for him to tolerate than losing to nature. As a scientist, he'd trained himself to lose to nature over and over and over again. But to lose to another intelligent life form? That was how he'd been learning to lose for the past few weeks.
Other than psychology, the thing that helped the most was his deciding to focus on how much he improved each week, rather than how much he lost. That was more than enough to lift his spirits when he thought about it. At his current pace, he should have a positive win-loss ratio in a few more weeks. Maybe a month if he focused on other things, like the wishes that the mirror might or might not be trying to grant...
"Riddle Tome."
Mr. Tome looked up from the psychology textbook, meeting the gaze of his unusually talkative employer – unusual in the sense that she rarely initiated any kind of conversation during her Night Court sessions and/or while dream walking.
"Yes?" he asked simply.
The magic about her suggested she was no longer dream walking, giving him her full attention. "I have thought of your suggestion."
"Which one?"
He had made plenty of unheeded suggestions by this point, so guessing the one she meant would have been a fool's errand.
"Your student's classes."
"Ah."
Yes, that was one of the more likely suggestions. It had little to do with politics or policy. She only needed to humble herself to the point of admitting she could learn from a colt, and she'd already done that alongside her sister when learning his Patronus Charm. Although come to think of it, that had been done in a relatively private setting, where the embarrassment of public humility wouldn't apply...
"Will you attend his lessons as yourself?" he asked. "Or will you disguise yourself as an ordinary pegasus to avoid unwanted attention? With his workload, he does not have the time for private sessions."
The princess paused, suggesting to Mr. Tome that she hadn't thought of the possibility. "Incognito," she said eventually, "I would not want to cause a fuss. I might reveal myself after if I must. But that is not where I wished to take this conversation. I have not yet decided if I want to go, and I believe I need more incentive than the lesson itself."
Riddle Tome frowned. "You want to get out more. You want to socialise. You want to learn. What more do you need than the satisfaction of your own goals?"
"What progress have you made on understanding your own hesitance for hugs?" she asked in reply.
Mr. Tome's frown deepened at the seeming non-sequitur. "I am reading Psychology textbooks for pertinent information," he said with a gesture to the book in front of him. "Some of them have been recommended by my student. Others have not."
"Have you found anything similar to your own situation?"
"Not particularly."
"Then I believe it is time for another intervention. If you allow one hug per day, I shall attend Silver Wing's lessons."
"Absolutely not," Mr. Tome denied, now openly scowling. "That deal was never meant to become a regular occurrence, nor shall it ever become regular. I doubt I'll need a favour of that magnitude again. Not unless I find that I need to perform another ritual under your supervision."
His employer stared at him incredulously. "You consider a hug to be on par with allowing a ritual?"
He shook his head. "Not in the manner you are thinking. Favours are inherently subjective, so I strive to be as fair as possible when exchanging them. I consider physical affection extremely unpleasant. You find rituals unpleasant. Therefore, the favours are commensurate. But you would not consider my student's lessons unpleasant, I think. Therefore, the favours are not even. You want to go, for the most part, even if you are hesitant. But I do not want a hug. Not. At. All. We would not be doing equally unpleasant things, so it would not be fair."
"You will only allow another hug if I grant something I do not wish to give?"
"Correct."
Again, his employer simply stared at him.
"Like what?" she finally asked.
"At the moment?" he asked. "Policy change. I'd like the law that bans rituals to be revoked. Or at the very least it should be replaced with a law that allows rituals to be performed under supervision from at least one adult alicorn. I would also like you to swear an Unbreakable Vow to the conditions of my employment. This would ensure that you would have no more temptations to break them, regardless of circumstance. Then there is the matter of our military, which I find inadequate. I would like to institute an officially sanctioned sport of mock battle, in which unicorn armies fight against each other under realistic war conditions. Using stunners of course. The list goes on, though I see you have already heard enough. What you feel about each of those items, I feel about your proposed daily hug system."
"Then what about one hug?" she asked. "One hug, and I attend all of your student's classes. All the way until I have learned the material."
That gave him slight pause.
"...No," he eventually decided. "I do not have much stake in my student's current teaching affairs."
"Says his teacher," she said in what she probably thought was a wry remark.
"Says his mentor," he repeated flatly. "I have every stake in his learning affairs. Given the Vows you witnessed, you now know why. The lessons I teach him will have a great impact on the future shape of the world. No offense to him, but the lessons he is teaching to Cloudsdale's pegasi seem somewhat trivial in comparison."
"Then why did you ask me to attend them?"
"I did not ask, I suggested," he corrected. "It was closer to a whim than anything else," Mr. Tome explained to the former Element of Honesty, "and I only did it because I was in a good enough mood to see the advantages. Your attendance would give him legitimacy."
He did not say it would also serve to spite his old University peers, keeping that part to himself and thus maintaining a bit of deception beneath his truthful words. Nothing should seem out of the ordinary to her perceptions.
"If you attend anonymously," he continued, "I have little to gain. Certainly not enough to allow a hug in exchange. At this point, it's up to you." He shrugged to convey both his apathy and the fact that he was done with this argument. "Follow your own desires as you please."
His eyes returned to the psychology book at his hooves.
"What if I promise to reveal myself in the end, once I have learned everything and experienced the benefits?" his employer asked. "That would give your student the legitimacy you wish him to have."
"Maybe." Riddle looked back up again. "But that does not solve the problem that you would not find the experience unpleasant."
"You are that strict about the fairness of your favors?"
"You aren't?" he asked the Princess of Equestria, who was probably pestered with petty favors day in and day out. "I look after my affairs with severe attention to detail. To be otherwise would be gullible."
"And that means a thirty-second hug must be met with massive legal changes, or binding my will forever?"
"Yes," he said simply. "Unless you can find a bit of extreme unpleasantness that is more innocuous, but still beneficial to me."
"Caring for your happiness does not count as being beneficial to you?" she demanded, seemingly fed up with that condition.
"Mere caring?" he echoed. "No. If you could guarantee happiness, of the sort that could fuel the spell my student attempted to teach you the other day, that would be a different matter. But 'caring for my happiness' is not something you seem to find unpleasant, nor is it something I requested, so it would not work in exchange for-"
"It is."
Mr. Tome's eyebrows furrowed, his train of thought successfully derailed. "Beg pardon?"
"It is unpleasant." Luna's gaze intensified. "Do you know how much stress I incur as I care for your happiness? How much uncertainty and doubt? How many times I have wondered if it is a fool's errand to care for my fool? I have endured so much unpleasantness with so little to show for it that I-" She stopped mid-sentence, a frown on her face.
Mr. Tome wore a frown as well, thoughtful and confused. "That you what?"
"I was about to say that I sometimes wonder why I bother, but that would have been a lie."
"Why?"
"Because I do know why I bother."
"Why?"
"Because I care."
"Why?" he stressed. "For most of our acquaintance, I should have seemed like just another mortal who would expire before your own immortal existence. Why care?"
She huffed a heavy sigh. "You speak as though it is voluntary."
"Isn't it?"
She shook her head firmly. "No. And that is what you are missing. That is why you cannot cast your student's charm. If there is nopony you wish to help, you will never cast it. Besides yourself, I mean," she added. "It must be somepony else. It must be for their sake. The desire must be completely involuntary and purely emotional. Has your student not taught you that?"
There was a long silence that fell between them.
"My student has taught me little about the charm," Mr. Tome said eventually. "Beyond the mechanics."
"That is grossly negligent-"
"It is not," Mr. Tome cut her off. "I rejected his proposed happiness lesson and I ignored his insistence."
Now it was her turn to demand answers with a stressed, "Why?"
"Because I knew it would be annoying, just as I find this annoying." The thestral waved a hoof, indicating the current topic of conversation. "Mr. Silver once spoke to me about doing selfless things to achieve happiness, but the same thought had already occurred to me many years before he was born. I have made a fair attempt at doing kindnesses for others and I failed to find any happiness. Why should this time be any different?"
"Doing a kindness for another is not the same as caring for them," his employer distinguished.
Mr. Tome shrugged. "Nevertheless, he suggested it and I had already tried it. I was confident I could make progress on my own when I rejected his most recent offer for happiness lessons."
"Have you?" she asked.
"It has only been half a month-"
"Have you?" she demanded.
Mr. Tome felt his face flicker in annoyance at the interruption, but it settled back to calm as he activated his habit of critical, dispassionate self-analysis.
"I'm not sure," he replied. "I have come to a better understanding of the underlying principles behind positive social interactions. Game Theory has been especially helpful in illuminating the benefits and drawbacks of cooperation versus-"
"None of that matters," his employer stated firmly.
The annoyance returned, and this time it stayed. "How could it not matter?"
"Has it impacted your emotional state in the slightest?" she asked. Then, without giving him time to answer, she added, "I know some of those books include methods of self-help. Have you used any of them?"
"You are asking if I have started a gratitude journal?" he asked flatly.
"You could try starting with a list instead of a full journal."
"I think the stupidity of that notion speaks for itself."
"There!" she declared. "That is what I mean. You reject it without consideration. Without a second thought. Without even trying it first. Why?"
"Why should I be grateful?"
"You see nothing to be grateful for?" she asked. "Nothing at all? Not a single thing in the world? Not even your own birth?"
"Even if I did," he deflected, though it was clear the answer to her question was a firm 'NO.', "What's the point in writing it down?"
"Why not try it and see?" she pressed. "By your own admission, the subject of happiness is alien to you. When you are new to a field, the standard practice is to trust the experts and do as they say – even if you cannot understand why – until you are more experienced yourself. I know you know that. You could not have become such an excellent scholar yourself without trusting the expertise of your predecessors."
Mr. Tome laughed at that. "I can hardly trust that these scholars," he gestured at his small pile of textbooks, "are experts. Who is to say whether these authors are truly happy themselves?"
"I meant your student," she clarified. "He is clearly happy, and you have clearly flaunted his desire to teach you the basics. Why?" That last question came out magically amplified as if to highlight her need for understanding.
"Because I wish to avoid annoyance," Mr. Tome answered. "Is that not happiness one oh one?"
"No!" she denied fiercely. "The point of happiness is not to avoid annoyance, but to defeat it! Just like the point of great achievement is not to avoid difficulty, but to embrace it. You cannot strengthen a muscle without stressing it! You cannot triumph without learning from failure; you cannot feel accomplished without overcoming hardship; and you cannot achieve happiness without enduring unpleasant interactions on the road of improvement. You, especially, shall have to endure much if you wish to be happy."
He chuckled mirthlessly. "I can think of many scenarios where enduring annoyances led to bitterness, resentment, and hate. I know many people who have been forced to tolerate their annoyances, and they all lead miserable lives without exception."
"I said nothing about tolerance," the princess denied. "I said you must endure and ultimately defeat your annoyances. One way or another. If that means parting with an abusive pony, I would not hesitate to help you find the door. But most ponies are not abusive. Most relationships are not toxic. When everypony annoys you, the problem likely does not lie in toxic relationships. The problem is that you are made bitter by far too many things. Irrationally so." Then she paused. "Unless you disagree? I do not like telling others their experiences."
Mr. Tome remained silent. That might be true, but he'd have to think about it.
"I was once the same way," his employer said quietly. "I still am, to some degree, but I have improved. You saw me cast the first level of your student's charm, the mist stage. Yes, coming to a better understanding of the world was helpful, but the most helpful part of that was coming to a better understanding of myself. You can too. I know you can. I'm just not sure if you will. That is the source of my doubt, and you do not know how unpleasant it is to continue caring for you in the face of that uncertainty. I believe the unpleasantness I have endured for your sake is more than enough for the favor I have asked."
Riddle Tome considered the argument. Up until now, he had thought that he might achieve happiness by understanding it, and by reducing stress in the meantime. Which of course meant avoiding stress. But then, it's not like avoiding stress as Lord Voldemort had made him happy. That had been the least stressful, least annoying position he'd ever held in his entire life, and it still hadn't made him happy.
He never considered that he might have to do the opposite. He might have to seek out stress to improve his understanding of it. To improve his reaction to it. Just like he sought out obscure magics and strong opponents to improve his own knowledge and power and spell repertoire. Not to mention reflexes and strategy.
Even still...
"I neither asked for your care, nor agreed to give anything in return for it," he pointed out, bringing them back to the whole reason they'd gone down this tangent in the first place. "You said your feelings are involuntary. They should therefore not be conditional. I will ask Mr. Silver for the lesson he intended to teach me; I think you are right about that much. But none of this has convinced me to assent to another hug, least of all your concerns about my happiness."
His employer took a few deep breaths. Her expression had lightened when he said he would learn from his student, and now she seemed to be thinking again. "Then what if I took it one step further?" she asked. "When I reveal myself at the end of your student's pegasus lessons, I shall offer a grant to any scholar in Canterlot University who can create the best proposal to study this new method of aerial movement."
"Methods. Plural. And they do not all have to do with movement."
"Semantics. The point is that I would not find it pleasant at all. Is the exchange acceptable?"
"Possibly," he allowed. "Why would you find the process of sponsoring a grant unpleasant?"
"I would have to deal with the University's rules and bureaucracy directly."
Ah. Yes, that made sense. Dealing with Ministry-mandated minutia had been the worst part of his own tenure as Defense Professor of Hogwarts.
Mr. Tome sighed heavily. "In the future, I will not consider your interactions with my student as furtherance of my agenda. But given how much you've said you'll do for him, I shall make an exception. If you promise to attend all his lessons, reveal yourself at the end, and force the academics to stop ignoring it..." He had to force out the next part. "I'll let you hug me again."
"I think I am doing enough that you should hug me."
A scowl instantly appeared on his lips, which then parted to reply with a scathing-
"No, wait," said his employer, raising her hoof in apology. "Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant to say is that if you passively stand still for twenty seconds, no matter how unpleasant you find it, that would not match all the action I must do. Last time, you allowed me to hug you, so I allowed the ritual. We exchanged passivity. On my sister's end, you actively returned to the castle, so my sister actively helped you with the sacrifices. But this time, since I will not be passive on my end of the deal, it is only fair that you not be passive on your end."
"I am sorely tempted to call the whole thing off now."
"Is it not fair?"
He shrugged. "It is, but that does not mean I have to consent."
"We never agreed how the hug would be done," his employer pointed out.
"This, coming from the former Element of Honesty?"
The blow to her element didn't even seem to faze her. "No. This is coming from a pony who has had to endure you for months. My old element would not like hidden terms that exploit the trust of others, like your trust that I meant I would be hugging you. And yet, Harmony agrees that I have been fair to you."
"Even still, I am well within my rights to call off the agreement, given that neither you nor I have acted yet."
"Then how about this: I still perform the hug, but you must approach close enough for me to do it. Is that acceptable?"
...
"Barely," Mr. Tome bit out.
"Good. Are we agreed?"
"Yes."
...
"Well?" his employer asked.
Mr. Tome grinned slightly. "We never agreed when the hug would be done. We only agreed that it would be done in exchange for you attending his lessons. Now that I must be the initiator, what's to stop me from waiting until the very last second?"
His employer's features flickered in frustration at the betrayal – fairly earned betrayal – but then they settled into... glee?
"What's to stop you from waiting?" she echoed his words. "Oh, I don't know," she said airily. "Nothing, I suppose. But perhaps tomorrow I will decide I am not safe enough in my courtroom. Perhaps my Night Guard should stand watch within this chamber to better protect me. I might even conclude I have not been transparent to the public. Maybe I shall invite a member of the press to record all court proceedings henceforth. My sister thinks I should. I would be sure to invite a prominent Canterlot journalist, one who would be very interested to know what the controversial Riddle Tome gets paid to do every day. You are, of course, free to delay as long as you want. Or you could get it over with before I begin feeling... lonely."
"You are making clever and credible threats?" he asked.
"You were right," she grinned. "It is only wise to look after my affairs with strict guidelines. I would not wish to be gullible."
He nodded approvingly. "You are learning. Though you still have far to go. The first threat would have been enough on its own, and I don't care at all about the second. My being paid to read textbooks does not contradict what you told the press. I am the Court Scholar, after all. I'm meant to be studying. A journalist can spin anything into a hatchet job, especially if they have it in for the target, but even that would be a stretch." He sighed. "Nevertheless, you have correctly deduced that I prefer privacy, even outside the context of this favor. Very well."
With a conscious effort to move his hooves forward, he approached. Despite his reluctance, he was determined to endure another embrace with dignity.
It became especially difficult as he breached what he considered his own personal space, but he kept a firm hold on all his emotions thanks to a simple trick of imagination.
If he pictured himself against a foe in a martial arts duel, he could comfortably approach much closer. There's no such thing as 'personal space' in a brawl. Well, not as such, anyway. Proper distancing is important in any fight, but contact is also necessary and extended grapples can happen.
When he came close enough, his employer lifted her head and wrapped her neck around his once again.
He had to ignore the impulse to attack her – an apparent downside to the trick.
"Riddle Tome?" she asked from right next to him.
"Hm?" he replied.
"Can you meet my gaze for a moment?"
Legilimency? he instantly thought, even though she'd already proven to be as ignorant of that magic as all the other ponies in Equestria.
He turned to look at her, his eye meeting hers.
"Thank you, my fool," she said, sounding as sincere as he'd ever heard the words. "No matter what happens, I promise I will try to help you find happiness."
And she pressed her cheek into his.
He recoiled-
"Riddle Tome."
He stopped.
"You were doing very well. Please. This is part of the hug."
...
"It is especially unpleasant," he informed her.
"I will ensure that the academics are properly rebuked when I deal with them. Is that sufficient?"
He looked at her warily. She couldn't have read his mind... but his motives were obvious enough to infer from context, he supposed.
He stopped recoiling, returning his head to where it had been.
She pressed her cheek into his.
He did not press back.
Later that same shift, he encountered a passage in his textbook that made him want to throw it across the room.
Frustration, disappointment, and grief all produce a pain-like state in the brain. Ponies use tactile contact as melioration for pain and grief, and it's about the only thing we know that's proven to be consistently, practically useful for grief. Real touch.
The author went on to prove the statement, of course, but supporting evidence was not his issue with it.
Not for the first time, he wished that he was reading a stack of textbooks on human psychology. He wished he knew if the statement was true or false for himself. He'd never had that kind of touch as a child, nor as a teen, nor as an adult, so he could not deny it outright. Not if he was being academically, intellectually honest in his role as Court Scholar.
But he really, really wished that he could deny it.
Worse, he was beginning to recall facts that lend to its credibility. Of all the happy thoughts described to him back when he was first trying to learn the Patronus Charm in his youth, the most common theme for beginners was to think of affectionate, physical contact. A kiss on the cheek, or a hug, or interlaced fingers. Especially with parents.
He was annoyed to notice that he was beginning to look forward to Mr. Silver's happiness lesson now, for Mr. Silver would certainly not be so foolish as to suggest anything like that.
Ignore this XRA Supercut #2:
Xavier: "I'm going to take you on a twelve-step journey of a thousand rehabilimiles." Points at mirror. "Now, to face your fear, you first must face the fear of your face."
Glue Addict: "This is dumb, man."
Riddle and Silver, student and teacher, stood beneath the sun surrounded by life and nature and beauty, subdued as it might have been in the middle of Winter. It was that same private, peaceful meadow where they first arrived in the land of Equestria all those months ago – as good a setting as any to learn the Patronus Charm. Or at least discuss it. The Canterlot castle garden might have been better if it wasn't open to public tours, but this was a good second choice.
"I've thought about it for a while," said Silver Wing and/or Life. He was currently a full alicorn, his Patronus active and his mane glowing, so he could have called himself either. "And I think the best way to describe what we're trying to do is to use the analogy you like to use with wandless magic."
Mr. Tome – also a full and undisguised alicorn, though without an ethereal mane – said nothing in reply. Up until his Seventh Year of Hogwarts, he was the eager student who impressed his teachers with ready answers and good questions. Now he was the reluctant student who would rather be elsewhere, but still showed up to give a token effort. He would not speak unless prompted. Or if he was annoyed or disagreed.
"So," continued Mr. Silver's possibly pre-planned lesson, "try to think of happiness... no, let's call it Patronus happiness. Try to imagine that Patronus happiness is like a language you don't know how to speak. Except, imagine you're not multilingual. Imagine that you're barely even monolingual. Imagine you don't have any practice at learning new languages. Now, with that in mind, think of happiness like an extremely foreign language. Like one of those clicking languages in Africa. Or better yet, imagine you're trying to learn the sign language of a foreign language, the thing that deaf people of a different nation use to talk to each other."
"Why complicate the analogy that much?" asked a disapproving voice.
"Because this is going to be extremely different from anything you've done before," Silver explained, "so it's going to take a very long time to learn compared to what you're used to. It's not going to be something you can do in a day, or a week, or probably even a year. You've been alive for over half a century without speaking the language of Patronus happiness, so the pessimistic – actually, no, the realistic prediction is that it'll take at least another half century to learn. If you make a genuine effort and you put in all the work. You'll probably have to work your way up to happiness. Maybe by learning to feel other emotions first, like guilt."
"You think I've never felt guilt?" Mr. Tome asked.
"Not the genuine guilt that you'd feel when you hurt someone you care about," was Mr. Silver's reply. "I haven't forgotten that Draco's false memory in the forbidden forest didn't feel like guilt to him, even though he thought it was supposed to, which is how Amelia Bones and Lucius Malfoy were able to agree that it was probably a false memory. Plus, my dark side has absolutely no idea how to handle the emotion. So no, I don't think you have ever felt guilt. Not recently enough to remember how it's supposed to feel, anyway."
Mr. Tome didn't argue the point.
Mr. Silver continued. "Anyway, getting back on topic, Equestria is about as immersed in the language of happiness as you can get, so there's no better place to make a genuine effort to learn it than right here. And since you can take as long as you like without wasting a real minute, there's no better time either."
"You know our circumstances annoy me," he pointed out. "The trap and the ponies. This is not a happy time or place for me."
"I'm sure that'll change in the future."
"You are not making this sound possible," said Mr. Tome. "Not in the slightest."
"I know I'm not making it sound easy," said Silver, "but that's the point. Compare it to your ambition of stopping the muggles from destroying the world with nukes. You told me you chose that ambition because it was big enough and difficulty enough to hold your interest. Wouldn't the ambition of happiness be even better? It will probably take even longer and be even more difficult, with a much better personal payoff."
"Perhaps if I cared for the task, I would regard it that way. As it stands, to use your phrasing, my heart sshall not be in it. I do intend to try, ass I ssaid I would."
Silver nodded at the honesty. "In that case, I'd like to say that I don't know at all how to get you to the end goal. I have a few ideas, but I think it'll be like that time I figured out pegasus magic, or the stone, or when you invented your own ritual. The one you call your great creation, I mean, not the ones you invented while looking at the stars. What I mean is that there's going to be a lot of stumbling around in the dark."
"This truly does not sound possible."
"First rule of happiness," Mr. Silver spoke like a king giving an edict. "No cynicism. Cynicism is a good defense mechanism for avoiding mistakes and stupidity, but it is not good for being happy. I know it's going to be impossible for you to stop being cynical altogether, so step one is to notice your automatic cynicism and ask yourself if it's fully warranted. If you find yourself feeling automatically negative, independent of your own free will, ask yourself if it's rational to feel that way about an event unrelated to yourself, and if not, ask yourself why you feel that way. The end goal is to break a certain habit of thought." Silver paused. "Does any of that sound unreasonable?"
"No," said the thestral after a pause. "But it seems... indirect, to say the least. Do you truly think thiss sshall eventually lead to the proper sstate of mind to casst a Patronuss Charm?"
The Parseltongue, as per usual, was meant to elicit reciprocation. Mr. Tome wanted to know if Silver genuinely, honestly thought this would work.
"Yess," Silver hissed back. "In your case," he resumed in normal speech, "I think that you shouldn't ask yourself what could make you Patronus-happy because that's a question that probably doesn't even have an answer yet. For now, just ask yourself why you're unhappy on a day-to-day basis. And try not to answer the question with 'because someone else is being stupid'. If you find yourself constantly blaming others for your own unhappiness..."
"It could indicate the problem is my own mind, yes."
The princess said something similar to him, though she was wise not to put it that way. He'd seen the pattern himself, in those who cannot understand the concept of responsibility and constantly blame others. Given that they rarely ever accept fault for their own circumstances, it would seem he has his own work cut out for him. If he was truly imitating that idiotic mistake. Ordinarily, in plots that forbade killing, he would be perfectly content to stay alone when other people grow unbearably annoying. Unfortunately, social interaction seems to be a prerequisite to the Patronus Charm.
After a pause, and with a sudden burst of something like excitement at his own cleverness (though it was tempered by harsh experience of many past failures), Mr. Tome asked a question which had never occurred to him before. Probably because it hadn't been possible until a few weeks ago, when Mr. Silver and Ms. Memory finally mastered...
"Have you considered skipping to the end of this lesson with a memory charm?" he asked hopefully, though he kept his tone of voice neutral. "You and Ms. Memory are familiar with genuine feelings of happiness. Could you not imbue those into a false memory?"
And if Mr. Silver promised in Parseltongue to only cast it along certain instructions, it would be a safe, trustable memory charm, something he could never have gotten under any other circumstance.
But Mr. Silver shook his head. "I hadn't thought of that, but no. You wouldn't be able to fuel a Patronus that way. Not by using someone else's emotions. Maybe a false memory would let you know how the emotions are supposed to feel, but that's it."
"Why shouldn't it work?" asked Mr. Tome.
"It would be like... like trying to trick the mirror with foreign magical influences," Silver said, dashing his hopes against the rocks of reality, as he had anticipated. "The emotions have to be brought about by internal forces, not external ones. So nix on memory charms."
"You see no short-cuts?" he asked without any real hope in the question.
"Not unless you're willing to obliviate or lock away all your unhappy memories to give yourself a fresh start." Silver held up a hoof to stall the obviously incoming objection. "Yeah, I know, didn't think so, just thought I should mention it as the only clever solution I can see at the moment. That's why cleverness isn't going to help here. It's part of the problem, even. You can be clever everywhere else, but in order to achieve true happiness, you can't trick yourself into it. Happiness has to be done honestly. Like a muggle trying to build up muscle. No short cuts, just hard work. My own clever shortcut would be like removing your emotional obesity... or maybe atrophy. Like giving you a blank slate again. But only you can build your strength after that."
"Happiness is like a muscle now?" Riddle's voice was back to its usual dryness. "I thought you preferred the language comparison."
Silver shrugged. "Either or. I like the muscle analogy when we're talking about mental abilities like the inherent skills that they are. Every single bird has to learn how to fly on its own, but the learning process is burned into their genetics too. In your case, happiness would be like an atrophied muscle, like a caged bird that's never flown. It'll take a lot of effort and training to get your happiness working again, but it's almost certainly possible in theory. I can't whistle, or raise a single eyebrow, or control my own burps, but if someone with the talent to do those things took over my body, they'd be able to do it even if I can't. If an extremely happy person were put in your body, they'd be able to cast the Patronus charm, just like you'd still be able to cast the killing curse in anybody else's body. You were born with the same potential for happiness as anyone else. Your body's biology should be capable of reaching that potential. It's just that your personality... and, well, let's be honest, your past is getting in the way."
Silver's mentor/student snorted. "What if it's like a limb that has been chopped off, not merely atrophied? Are you so certain I still have the capacity?"
"Yes," said Silver. "Because I still have the capacity for the Killing Curse. When you told me the deeper secret of the Killing Curse, I thought to myself that I'd never be able to cast it. And if that turned out to be true, maybe I'd agree with you. Maybe happiness and the Patronus charm would be out of your reach forever. But since I can cast both at the same time, you should be able to get there too. I find it hard to believe that my abilities are infinitely beyond your reach."
The thestral didn't reply.
"I think that's enough for today. Your homework is to attempt to notice automatic instances of cynicism, just like you taught me how to notice my own magic whenever I cast a spell. Maybe start by writing down obvious instances that you notice after the fact. We'll continue when you believe you've gotten into the habit of noticing negative thoughts as they occur."