//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: Stolen Clues // Story: Equestrian Vacation // by Dragonboy111 //------------------------------// hat is something, isn't it?" Everyone was shocked. They had expected something at least. A thinly veiled death threat, a cry for help, possibly even a romantic love confession, but certainly not whatever this was. It felt like hours before McGonagall spoke up. "At least we have a name now," she said halfheartedly. Snape snatched the paper up. "Most likely an alias," he said skeptically. "I can not recall any student with this name." "Assuming Miss 'Twilight' is a student," Flitwick reminded. "These 'princesses' are odd, too." "Are you suggesting the crown kidnapped him?" McGonagall said with heavy sarcasm. "No one in the royal family has those names," Hermione said, oblivious to McGonagall's tone. "Being an insufferable know-it-all helps no one, Granger," Snape said with a biting tone. "You think we wouldn't know that?" "Wizards don't seem to care much for muggle politics. Several can't seem to count muggle money, although that could be because no one is taught math outside of arithmancy," Hermione countered. She was right, partially. Dumbledore chose this moment to speak, stopping what would have otherwise been a fascinating battle of the wits. He cleared his throat, making sure to both end the conversation and get everyone's attention. "I think you have given us a great deal to consider, Miss Granger. Thank you for coming forward with this. You may return to your remaining classes," he gently dismissed her, and Hermione slowly walked towards the door. "However," he said, "if I hear that you've made a habit out of stealing your classmates' personal effects again, miss Granger, there will be much more severe consequences." Dumbledore thought for a moment. "The fact remains that you did steal from a student. Until a proper punishment is decided, your Hogsmeade privileges are revoked, and you will be spending time in detention for an unspecified period of time. You are dismissed." Dumbledore leveled a look at the girl that said less of "I'm mad" and more of "I'm just disappointed", which was more than enough to make her wilt like a flower in the desert. Hermione took this as her signal to leave, albeit with much reluctance. Once she was out of the room, Dumbledore took off his half-moon glasses, a grave look about him. "This letter is our only clue to Harry's whereabouts. We must decipher any hidden messages it may possess." He set the letter down for inspection. Snape was the first to speak. "Potter was not unfamiliar with enchanted parchment. I caught him with one such item last term." Several wands were suddenly waving and tapping the paper as each teacher looked for some trace of magic. "No transfigurations." "No charms." "There appears nothing magical about this letter," said Dumbledore. "Whatever it hides is in the words alone. I'd be happy to hear suggestions." The teachers pondered for a few moments. "Well, the tone is friendly and considerate, which isn't out of place," McGonagall noted. "However, this bit about getting adjusted to walking is bizarre. I can't make heads or tails of it." The teachers nodded, thinking of what that line could mean. "Long-term disorientation, perhaps?" Flitwick suggested. "Unregulated portkeys are well known to be disorientating, especially amateur ones." "That idea contradicts itself," interrupted Snape, shaking his head. "If this person is a novice they wouldn't have been able to evade the wards, and an adept caster wouldn't disorientate Potter enough to merit a warning." "But, regardless of the side effects, I think we're all in agreement that the spell mentioned is obviously what our writer is talking about," said Sprout. "That spell is also most likely tied to whatever happened to Harry," McGonagall added. The teachers shared reaffirming looks or nods. "Yes. Possibly a summoning or banishment spell," Flitwick deduced. "Most likely centered on this..." he grabbed the paper, skimming the words, "...Equestria place." "Certainly nowhere I've heard of," said Sprout. "I don't think any of us have," McGonagall replied. "What do you make of this, Albus?" "I have not heard of this 'Equestria' before. Frankly, what concerns me more is not where Harry is, but whom he is with." Dumbledore reached for the list, tapping out the three listed names. "Twilight, Celestia, and Luna. While odd on their own, the names' thematic similarities imply an important connection between these people. And the use of the word 'Princess'. I have not heard of any magical royalty in Europe who use such titles, and Miss Granger has ruled out the muggles. So this title means that these people might be a group with some form of structure or hierarchy, and these two 'Princesses' are at the top," He surmises. "I don't mean to make a conspiracy of this," started Sprout. "But I have heard rumors of young students getting involved in strange groups, cults if you'll call them that. Seems to be all the rage with rebellious kids. Perhaps Mr. Potter found himself the subject of one by mistake?" "Harry Potter, involved in a cult? Preposterous!" came the outcry from McGonagall. "I do not believe that is what Pomona was implying," said Dumbledore. "I think she is merely suggesting that this mysterious group had an interest in Harry, and has targeted him for that reason. How such a feat was accomplished remains unclear." "As it is stated here, Potter was clearly aware of the spell, yet did not tell us. Perhaps he knows more than we think," said Snape. "He could have been subject to the Confundus charm or similar curse. It would explain his allegedly odd attitude, and why he never told his friends," Flitwick pondered out loud. The teachers were all silent for a while, each one thinking hard. Harry had been kidnapped, that much was clear, but what came next was completely unknown. "I believe," stated Dumbledore, "if we cannot locate Harry as of now, then we must play damage control. This incident must be contained, lest we create panic. I will write up something to abate the public, you must redirect the rumors. The truth cannot be known. We don't know what will happen if the Tournament is paused on Harry's account, so we must do our best to keep this incident on the down low, and hope we can find young Harry before it is too late." Meanwhile, in Equestria, six friends were staring in a panic at their unconscious friend. "Harry!" They all cried out, rushing towards the downed colt. Twilight got to him first, gently prodding him, looking for any sign of consciousness. She noticed a steady, if slightly ragged, rise and fall of his back. "He's breathing!" she said, fears partly abated. "What do we do now?!" Pinkie Pie said in a panic. Harry stirred again. "Ah!" Harry lifted his head an inch off the ground. "Did anypony get the number of that train?" Harry said before collapsing again. "He's delirious and unconscious! Oh, Celestia, this is bad," Applejack said. "Shouldn't we get him to a doctor?" asked Rarity. "We can't move him ourselves, not physically anyways. Rarity, lend me a hoof and help me get him to the doctor." Twilight's and Rarity's horns glowed as Harry's body slowly levitated off the ground. As quickly (and safely) as they could, the six friends rushed Harry to the doctor. The first thing Harry noticed was how quiet it was. It was like a thick blanket was draped over his head, muffling noises from the outside to mere whispers. The second thing he noticed was the headache. A dull throbbing sensation was centered just behind his eyes. Harry didn't want to open them. The third thing he noticed was the voices. Quiet, faint voices who, despite the volume, sounded urgent and... excited? Maybe anxious was a better word. "When is he expected to wake up?" There, a voice. Harry couldn't quite put a name to it, but it sounded like somepony he knew. Especially that familiar hushed sound, like the speaker was scared of her own voice. "Today, hopefully. The doctors said he was showing signs of consciousness," another voice said. This one sounded the same age, and more recognizable. It sounded like... Twilight! Harry's eyes shot open and immediately closed when the bright lights blinded him. His mild migraine took a turn for the worse. "Ow..." he moaned miserably. The voices, thankfully, quieted down. "He's awake," came Fluttershy's voice, somehow quieter than before. The lights were dimmed as somepony walked next to him. "Thank Celestia, you had us all so worried," said the voice of a very well-known purple unicorn. Harry dared to open his eyes ever so slightly. He was in what looked like a hospital room, with the lights dimmed and the windows shuttered. Harry himself was lying on a bed, with a baby blue blanket draped over him. Rarity, Fluttershy, and Twilight were gathered around him. He looked at the purple mare standing next to him. "Hey, Twilight." "Hey yourself. How do you feel?" "Like I picked a fight with Nightmare Moon. What happened?" "Derpy accidentally hit you with a box of industrial steel shoes," Twilight confessed. "The doctor said you have a concussion." Harry rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the dull aching behind his eyes. "I can feel that. How long was I out?" "Forty-two hours," added Rarity. "Quite the shock really. We're delighted you're alright." She trotted to the door, pushing Fluttershy along with her. "Well, I suppose Fluttershy and I ought to go find the doctor and get you dismissed. We'll leave you two be," she said with a devious smirk. And the two left Harry and Twilight alone. The two unicorns waited to speak for what felt like an hour, just listening to the silence between them. Eventually, Twilight spoke up. "I'm glad you're okay, we all are. I was so worried for you." She looked him square in the face. "If that had happened any later, I might have sent you back unconscious." She let out a mirthless chuckle. "Glad I'm still here," said Harry. "Well, I'm not," a new voice said. Harry and Twilight were startled, looking about the room. There was the sound of a finger snap, and somebody appeared before them in a flash of light. A hodgepodge of other creatures, he looked like an incorrectly assembled jigsaw. Fur here, scales there, claws and hooves, the list of bizarre details went on. But, nevertheless, it was a form well-known to Twilight and her friends. Even Harry, who had only seen the murals in Canterlot, knew who he was looking at. "You're—!" "Discord, 'reformed' spirit of chaos and disharmony. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter."