//------------------------------// // Something Insidious // Story: Magic Mirror On The Wall, Who Is Mightiest Of Them All? // by Snakeskin Ducttape //------------------------------// “All students! I will have your attention!” McGonagall called out during breakfast. “I have an announcement to make concerning the incident yesterday!” That last part made the buzz die down immediately, and every eye in the hall was aimed at her. “Those of you that weren’t present yesterday will no doubt have heard that Mrs Norris, the cat of caretaker Argus Filch, was attacked, and a message written on the wall at the same location. Mrs Norris has been petrified”– Sunset frowned in confusion –” but is not dead, and a treatment for petrification is being worked on as we speak. Professor Sprout will be taking care of the acquisition of the necessary ingredients, whereupon Professor Snape will concoct the potion. Needless to say, interruptions of any kind in their work will not be tolerated. “There are no suspects as of yet, and rumors and speculations among yourselves will not be helpful, and you are to refrain from concocting or sharing them…” Sunset rolled her eyes. “... If you do have information regarding the incident, you are to inform a member of the faculty. If the guilty party would care to admit to their wrongdoings, we will accept them doing so in private. This is no time for panic, or the facilitation of panic, and you will all be expected to conduct yourselves in the same orderly manner as you always are. That is all.” The silence continued for almost three seconds, before the same hushed but excited buzz that McGonagall had interrupted continued, even more intense than before. McGonagall’s eyebrow twitched, and she took a slow, deep breath before rolling up the paper she had been reading with very stiff motions. “Petrified?” Parvati whispered. “Why were people talking about a beast before?” Neville asked, in a nervous voice. “Because a beast was obviously in the Chamber of Secrets,” Dean said. “How long has it been in there?” Lavender noted, skeptically. There was a tense pause as people’s minds raced to come up with an answer fast enough to keep the gossip train going. “Maybe since before the school was made,” Seamus suggested. “Well… shouldn’t it have… you know… starved?” Neville asked. There was another frantic pause before Dean came up with an explanation. “Maybe it doesn’t need food,” he said, but this didn’t sit well with the others. “Maybe it petrifies itself to conserve energy,” Sunset said. She meant it as a joke, but Seamus pointed at her and gave her a smile of recognition, as if it was a really clever piece of insight. Neville urgently turned to Sunset. “What creature petrifies things?” “Uh… cockatrices, gorgons, The Silent Choir…” “What’s The Silent Choir?” Seamus asked. “What? Oh, uh… it was an army, like, back in mythical times, of animated stone soldiers that turned people to animated stone soldiers like themselves with their breath, press-ganging them. Anyway, they’re supposedly all gone. And that’s another thing. I didn’t get a good look at Mrs Norris, but she didn’t look petrified to me.” “Oh you’re an expert, are you?” Parvati asked, skeptically. “No,” Sunset said, airily. “But it looked more like some sort of stasis effect.” “That’s what petrification is, innit?” Seamus noted. “Not the way I know it.” “What creatures have… stasis effects, then?” Neville pressed. “Well… I don’t know,” Sunset said, shaking her head slightly, deep in thought. “Spontaneously, I’d say changelings, but… that’s not entirely right either.” “Changelings?” “Yeah, changelings.” When they kept looking at her with blank looks, she figured that maybe they were called something else on this plane of existence, and continued. “Master infiltrators. Very dangerous. They're insectoid people that can alter their voice and appearance, steal your identity or the identity of people around you, and they keep their victims in pods… you know, in stasis,” Sunset clarified. She noticed the silence in her immediate vicinity, and looked around to see her classmates staring at her with horrified looks, figuring that in that case changelings did not exist here, or people would know about them. Neville especially was white as a sheet. “Uh, look, the thing with changelings is that you never know when they’re around, but even so, don’t worry, we don’t actually have any changelings among us.” “H-how do you know?” Neville asked. “Ask me for our secret phrase,” Sunset simply said. “Wh-what secret phrase?” “Exactly. We don’t have a secret phrase,” Sunset said. “A changeling wouldn’t know that… you know, unless they’ve been among us for a long time.” When the silence persisted, Sunset continued a bit more forcefully. “There are no changelings around, okay? Besides, they don’t leave their victims around to be found, with warnings in public places written in big, glowing letters. You don’t get any less changeling-like than that.” Everyone looked up at the looming figure of Minerva McGonagall standing over Sunset with a displeased look on her face. “I believe I made it very clear that no rumors were to be spread, Miss Shimmer,” she said, in a tense voice. “That’s what I’m saying,” Sunset said, exasperation creeping into her voice, as she looked at her classmates. “There are no changelings at Hogwarts, trust me on this.” McGonagall opened her mouth, but shut it again, surprised by her own reaction to those words. When she rallied again, she simply nodded, and strode off. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been sitting quietly in the corner, but now Hermione spoke up. “These changelings… do they come from the same place as you?” “Uuuh… I think they have spawning chambers rather than nurseries, but other than that… sort of, I guess,” Sunset deflected “But they can’t do magic, can they? Like wizard magic?” Ron asked. “Sure they can, like the famous archmage… uh… his name is kinda hard to translate,” Sunset said, thinking, before giving up. <> “Whoa, that sounds dangerous,” Dean noted about the foreign tongue. — Sunset sat in the far back of the classroom during History of Magic, with her eyes shut from deep concentration. She had tried to set up a magical arrangement where her quill would act as a stenographer to Professor Binns as he let out a relentless, homogenous, and utterly mind-murderingly boring stream of historical facts, but it failed. Sunset found it to be a little like a muggle television machine when they just showed static, and her quill apparently agreed, since it frequently stopped working unless she tried listening too, and continuously helped it along and willed it to keep writing. The attendance of the warlock convention of 1289 was the highest in eight years, and the first topic was- er… oh. Miss… er…? Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets. (Insert onomatopoeia that conveys a sudden shock of activity as a dozen students sit up to take notice) Sunset’s brow furrowed, and she opened her eyes to read what she thought she wrote. “My subject is History of Magic. I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends,” he said, before clearing his throat and continuing on. “In September of that year, a sub-committee of Sardininan Sorcerers –” Hermione waved her hand again, and Sunset magically set her quill down, intending to listen and not just record for later analysis. “Miss Grant?” “Please, sir, don’t legends always have a basis in fact?” Binns was staring at Hermione as if he was struggling with the concept of having a conversation, which, Sunset realized, was not completely unlikely. “Well…” he eventually said. “Yes, one could argue that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale…” But the pregnant silence was deafening, and this much attention seemed to, for lack of a better phrase, breathe life into Professor Binns and his presentation. By her unspoken command, Sunset’s pencil magically made a note in the margins about that, and that perhaps magically the effect of which could be synthetically reproduced. “Oh very well,” Professor Binns eventually reletented. “Let me see… the Chamber of Secrets. you all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago- the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution.” What followed was a small summary of how, after a period of training magically gifted children as expected, Slytherin had a falling out with the others, especially with Gryffindor, over the selection of students, and how Slytherin wanted to only train children of purely magical families. Slytherin had left the school, but had a hidden chamber in the castle, only known to himself, and that only his heir would be able to unseal it, and reveal some horror within, to enforce Slytherin’s will. “The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course,” Binns said, a bit impatiently. “Naturally, the school has searched for evidence of such a chamber many times by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible.” “Sir!” Hermione insisted, her hand in the air. “What exactly do you mean by the ‘horror within the chamber’?” “That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the heir of Slytherin alone can control.” Sunset was leaning back in her seat. <> she muttered to herself. “I tell you, the thing does not exist. There is no Chamber and no monster.” Seamus was the next to speak. “But sir, if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin’s true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?” “Nonsense, O’Flaherty. If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven’t found the thing–” “But Professor,” said Parvati. “You’d probably have to use Dark Magic to open it. “Just because a wizard doesn’t use Dark Magic, doesn’t mean he can’t, Miss Penny–” “Why is the tale so ludicrous?” Sunset interjected, in her most calm and confident voice. Binns paused, and looked at Sunset, who met his gaze steadily. “Because… the nature of the tale makes it obvious,” he said. “Why?” Sunset said, only slightly too fast and pressingly for comfort. “The… the likelihood of it being true is just too minute.” “Yes but can you explain further?” Binns pulled himself up to a greater height, which was quite easy seeing as he could float. “I do not entertain stories and myths, I deal in facts, and there are no facts that support the existence of the Chamber.” “You don’t know of any facts that support the claim, which makes your position on the subject a respectable one,” Sunset said, and calmly waved a hand to indicate the room at large. “But what we clearly want to know is if there are any facts that disprove the whole subject. If there are none, the legend remains our only point of data, wouldn’t you say? Are there any positive or negative facts on the subject?” Binns had been in the process of puffing himself up even further, charging up a retort, when Sunset finished speaking. “Y… yes, that… is correct, there are no facts regarding it whatsoever, and so it does not exist. Now… uhm… oh yes, the matters discussed in 1289…” People stayed awake for a few more minutes after the whole exchange, but no more than that. Sunset, however, stopped taking notes, magically blocked out the sound of Binns’ voice, and sat in deep contemplation for the rest of the class. When the bell rang, the class didn’t bother waiting until they were out of earshot before talking about secret chambers and monsters. “We knew it, we totally knew it. There’s a monster somewhere in the castle,” said Dean. “Well stop sounding so excited about it,” Lavender said. “I’m not, I’m just saying we knew it.” “What are we gonna do, Sunset?” Neville asked in a nervous voice. “What if the monster attacks us?” Sunset looked at him, and something about his expression made her feel something she didn’t care for, even though she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what. She decided to look confident, and shrugged. “If it tries to hurt me it’ll be the last mistake it ever makes. If it has a nice coat, maybe I’ll make a new cloak out of it. Do you feel like taking it on?” Neville quickly shook his head while giving Sunset a scared look. “Alright, so if it attacks you, just come find me,” Sunset simply said. “You wanna fight it?” Seamus said, having overheard what Sunset and Neville talked about. "Sure." “Why?” “If it’s gonna run around attacking people it’s best to fight it early before it mentally wears everyone out. Besides, there’s only room for one monster in this school, and that’s me,” Sunset said matter-of-factly. Her classmates continued throwing glances at her until they made it to the next class. Sunset’s icy bravado wasn’t just attitude. Her studies between classes came to a momentary but complete halt, as all her spare time was spent shoring up her magical defenses. Every morning, she surrounded herself with magical shields of the variety that wouldn’t stop her from functioning normally, but the whole petrification thing worried her. She believed the faculty when they claimed to be able to cure the so-called “petrification”, but she didn’t want the attention or the humiliation that would come from being petrified. She partially regretted her confident statements after class a few days ago, but she tried cutting herself some slack, and acknowledging that it was easy to get antsy from holding back for so long. Luckily, Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender hadn’t noticed the myriad of protective spells she placed on the door and windows to the dormitory. “What are you doing?” The Fat Lady asked, in a genuine tone, as Sunset, wand in hand, inspected every stone in the wall separating Gryffindor Tower from the rest of the castle. “Seeing if there are any secret backdoors into the place I sleep,” Sunset answered. “Oh, well, I’ve been looking at this corridor for over three hundred years, and I can count on a closed fist the number of times anyone has gotten into the tower from where you’re standing without walking through the entrance.” Sunset was about to thank the Fat Lady for that, when she paused. “Wait, does that mean it’s happened one time, or zero?” “Zero.” “Okay then, excellent.” “I assume you’re asking because of the rumors of monsters running rampant through the castle,” the Fat Lady continued, in a conversational tone. “Yep,” Sunset said, still inspecting the stones closely. “And you’re confident that you have the capability to find flaws in the castle’s protective measures that the faculty has overlooked?” “Certainly not,” Sunset said, airily. The Fat Lady looked surprised for a moment, before scoffing at Sunset’s attitude, smiling all the while. “If you listen to the stones rather than look at them, you might hear whispers,” the Fat Lady said. “Whispers about powerful individuals walking the halls.” “Oh? Who?” Sunset said, standing up and looking casually at the portrait. The Fat Lady shook her head. “It’s just rumors.” Sunset smirked, and nodded. “Just rumors indeed,” she said, and walked inside. — The second year students were lounging around the table by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, doing homework. “What is a ‘mudblood’ anyway?” they heard Colin Creevey ask Ginny Weasley one set of couches away, which led to a discussion amongst themselves, since Dean Thomas wasn’t very clear on the concept either. Neither was Sunset for that matter, but didn’t say as much, content to listen to the others explain it to Dean instead. “But it’s all nonsense,” Ron said to the whole thing. “Plenty of muggleborns who’re as powerful as any witch or wizards, and plenty of purebloods who aren’t.” No one said anything, but most of them glanced very quickly at Neville, who withdrew into his armchair slightly. Sunset’s eyes narrowed, and she lightly tossed a paper aeroplane at him. “No, not you,” she said, matter-of-factly, and meaning it. Not that every pony in Equestria could do it, but scholars of magic, like Sunset, eventually  learned to spot magic, raw magic. It was often an imprecise discipline, like learning to use a new sense that you don’t exactly know the location of, but one could develop it. Sunset had much left to learn when it came to the topic, but even in a place as Hogwarts, with so much interference, she could get a fairly good measure of a witch or wizard’s raw magic power. The adage that looks could be deceiving applied here too, for example, a skinny person could be deceptively strong, and it could be hard to tell how easily one got results from exercise, but it mostly gave you a good idea of what to expect from someone. Not that it mattered much when it came to witches and wizards, with their exclusive training on magic requiring a focus, and specifically the wand, which evened the playing field so very greatly, and one needed to have Dumbledore’s level of power to make a great difference. Neville looked up in surprise at Sunset, while the rest squirmed slightly and tried to seem distracted. “But I’m… not so… I’m the worst in class,” Neville weakly protested. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean that you're magically weak,” Sunset said, still looking into her potions book. That made the others look at her, curious. “It doesn’t?” Parvati asked. “Nope,” Sunset simply said. “How do you know?” Lavender asked. "Because I can tell that Neville doesn’t have below average magic power,” Sunset said, and shrugged. “How?” Dean asked. Sunset shrugged again. “You just learn to, eventually.” “Oh, come off,” Ron said. “You mean that you can tell how much magic all of us here have got?” Sunset looked up from her book. “It’s not always completely accurate, but yes.” “Oh yeah? What about Dumbledore?” Dean asked. “He’s got tons,” Sunset simply said. “So, what, are people like Malfoy right when they say that being a muggleborn makes you less of a wizard?” Ron asked, with something hard to his voice. “I certainly wouldn’t say that,” Sunset noted, especially since she was fascinated with muggles’ ability to make do with less. “Oh yeah? So are muggleborns weaker?” Sunset leaned back, and concentrated. Average amount of magical power was, as perhaps expected, the most common reading of the individuals around her. Harry was a bit above average, Dean was slightly below, but not so much that it would be noticeable when using wands. A few individuals stood out as being more powerful than others, though non freakishly so, like Dumbledore, whose power could be felt from across a large room, but Colin Creevey and Hermione, who Sunset knew to be muggleborn, did have noticeably less raw magic power. “Yeah, it seems so to me,” Sunset said. Sunset barely noticed that Ron’s expression had darkened quite a bit. “Seems to me that you’ve been hanging out with your Slytherin friends too much,” he said. “Who?” Sunset asked, once again trying to read her book. “Like Malfoy.” Sunset tried to remember if Draco had said anything to the same effect about Gryffindor students, but she couldn’t place it. “Why?” she simply asked. “If you think that wizards are better because they’re purebloods, you need to stop spending time with them.” “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever start thinking like that,” Sunset noted, starting to feel annoyed. Ron took a deep breath, puffing himself up where he sat, looking angrily at Sunset. “If you go ‘round saying that muggleborns are magically weak, that is what you think.” Sunset gave him a very unamused look, before scoffing, and standing up. “I’d be more concerned about what it says about someone who asks questions without intending to listen,” she said, coldly, and walked up to the dorms to turn in early — The next day was a Quidditch match, and Sunset waited until she was the absolute last person heading down towards the pitch before she broke off from the crowd and headed back into the castle. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, and even less to be surrounded by people screaming about some ceremonialized display of very specific kinds of physical prowess. Besides, it also looked like it was going to rain. Even most of the faculty attended Quidditch, so for a few hours Sunset had the run of the castle, except for the easily spotted Filch. She was about to include Mrs. Norris, but remembered herself. It was time for monster-hunting. Except, Sunset had to admit, frustratingly, she didn’t know whether there were actually monsters in the castle. A cat had been locked in stasis magic, a threatening message had been left on a wall, and three suspects, unlikely ones at that, had been found at the scene. These three pieces of information were the only facts Sunset had to work with. After that came rumors. Hearsay, speculation, and sensationalism. Maybe the Chamber of Secrets was real, maybe it was like someone said minutes after the event, that it was a way to throw people off. Then, of course, there was the fact that someone who could rival Dumbledore in skill and magic had tried to kill Harry as an infant, and died from the attempt. That was always interesting, and more so now that Sunset was trying to figure out who or what could do magic not taught in the school. Just how much more was there to Harry? The most straightforward way to pursue that mystery was to familiarize oneself with Harry and establish his capabilities as a person, rather than as a wizard. The problem was that something like that would take a lot of time, and Sunset didn’t consider herself very good at it. She also just didn’t know Harry very well. Oh, he certainly carried himself normally enough, but Sunset had encountered unpredictable people as early as when she was at the orphanage. One particular matron stood out in that regard, presenting herself as a kind and patient mare, but who gleefully jumped on the foals with, probably pretended, indignant rage at the slightest missteps when it came to orderly conduct. Years afterward, Sunset had still toyed with the idea of fabricating evidence of crimes that would have the matron sent to Tartarus. Back at Hogwarts, Sunset sniffed the air, and ducked down a secret passageway to avoid Filch. He really was child’s play to avoid without his cat spying for him. Sunset slowly sauntered through the halls of the castle, eyes closed and magical senses reaching out to feel the stones of the castle themselves. After two probings of the third floor, Sunset had to pause, and grunt in frustration to herself. That Hogwarts was magical was an understatement. The castle was saturated with more enchantments, lingering magic effects, and spilled potions than Diagon Alley. In London, Sunset had run across a large chipboard attached to a brick wall in an out-of-the-way area of a park. Not that it had been easy to discern that it was a chipboard, since it was covered in garishly colored shapes and letters from spray paint. Graffiti, the Manehattaners called it. Sunset was considerate enough to take on a dismissive attitude towards the artform, since that was what made its practitioners happy. The point was that between the layers upon layers of texts and illustrations, some very old creations could sometimes be gleaned, poking out from between phrases written as if made up by balloons or dissolving bubblegum or what have you, and that was what it felt like to Sunset as she scanned the castle for magic, again and again. The first two times Sunset combed the fourth floor, she also didn’t find anything, and was almost ready to give up when something responded to her probing. “Oh?” she said to herself, and turned to face a great mirror, large enough for three or four people her age to stand abreast in front of. She stepped up and lightly tapped it, but it was stout and massive enough to not give away anything from sound. However, Sunset was sure the mirror held a secret. She leaned forward, and almost pressed her nose against it as she inspected it, when she noticed that looking at it from a sharp enough angle revealed a handle in the reflection on the far side. Curious, she reached out where the reflection showed that the handle would be, and felt the invisible object. She pulled, and the entire mirror gently and quietly slid outward like a great door, with hardly any force required. Sunset was distracted from congratulating herself, that she almost forgot what she was doing in the first place. In front of her was a secret chamber. The actual Chamber of Secrets, mayhap? She glanced around, wondering if perhaps she should warn a member of the faculty, before shaking her head. She wasn’t particularly interested in talking with anyone, and she doubted anyone was particularly interested in talking with her. Drawing her wand, she stepped into the darkness, and closed the door behind her. She was plunged into the blackest darkness, but she figured that could be a good thing. Any adversary in here would be just as blind unless they had the ability to see in complete darkness, and if cockatrices were on the loose, they would be outright feeble against someone of Sunset’s abilities if they knew to keep their eyes closed. Sunset sniffed the air for a moment, sensing nothing but stone and dust. No hint of anything alive in here, no bedding, no filth, and no fear or excitement in the air. Nothing like mildew either. She walked forward, sensing a wall of stone in front of her, and still nothing else. If there were any monsters in this chamber, it was being very, very discrete. She gently raised her wand, and shouted, “LUMOS!” The tip of her wand seemed to explode as if the sun itself was held there. If anything in here relied on sight, and which wasn’t a unicorn with a penchant for fire magic and who had been the personal student of the princess of the sun, it wouldn’t have been able to open its eyes for several minutes. Instead, Sunset found herself staring at an old stone chamber, empty save for a cave-in right in front of her. “... Oh,” she muttered to herself, deflating a little. While it was an interesting find, this would simply not be the secret lair of a legendary archmage. Still, Sunset aimed her wand at the cave-in, and started guiding the stones back into the ceiling, repairing the damage. Eventually, this revealed a set of circular stone stairs, leading down into the utter darkness. Shrugging, Sunset cast the light from her wand onto the stairs, and started to descend. “Hmm, this must be inside the western wall,” she noted to herself, as walked down and down. “... And definitely leads underground,” she said, after descending more than four floors. Eventually, she reached the bottom, which resulted in a stone tunnel on a level grade, just as dark and plain as before. It wasn’t a scary type of darkness, it was a sterile type of darkness, and Sunset walked on through the plain stone tunnel. Although she was naturally curious about this find, the novelty was wearing off quite rapidly, walking through the featureless dark. Just as she started playing with the idea that the tunnel was playing some trick on her and she wasn’t making any progress, she reached a smoothened cliff wall. Apparently she had reached the end of the passage. She put her hand on the wall, and as she expected, it slid outwards, just like the mirror had, and she found herself staring at the green mountains around Hogwarts, wet from the rain, with the castle in question in the distance, and the village of Hogsmeade down a couple of slopes. The door was a part of a bare cliff wall, and gently slid shut behind her, leaving a small handle-like shape in the rock for those who knew where to look. Sunset nodded to herself. “Okay. Slightly interesting find,” she said. It wasn’t that useful to know who knows teleportation, but it might still come in useful one day. With a flash of light, she was gone, back at Hogwarts. — Sunset’s want to socialize with her classmates had never been very strong, and it had been even weaker since yesterday, so she remained unaware that her house was celebrating their victory in the quidditch match in the common room as she continued her inspection of the castle. By the time the sun had started to set, she was outside, walking along the walls with her hand on the stones, when she spotted Malfoy trudging out through the doors, angrily kicking some pebbles and not noticing her. Sunset could empathize, and she slipped around a corner so as to not bother him, and continued with her work there. Draco, however, had decided to move towards where Sunset was, and she heard him carefully walking up behind her. “Hello, Draco,” she said, not turning to look at him. “How did you know it was me?” he said, sounding a little surprised. “I know everything,” Sunset answered, ominously, before turning around and facing him with a slightly amused expression. “You’re also the only one in our year who wears cologne.” “Oh,” Draco said, glancing down at his robes and surreptitiously giving them a whiff. “So what’s eating you?” Sunset asked, while a part of her wondered if one was supposed to be comfortable with having to always be concerned about people if one decided to make friends. “N… nothing,” Draco muttered. “That’s good then,” Sunset said, conversationally. Draco grunted, and muttered, “the match.” “Didn’t go well?” “You… didn’t see it?” “Actually, no,” Sunset said, having turned back to the wall. “Really?” Draco asked, and strangely enough Sunset thought he sounded a little hopeful. “No. I was, uhm… busy.” “With what?” Draco said, intrigued. “Uh, more research,” Sunset said. “Like what you’re doing now?” “Yes- uh, I mean… yeah, I guess,” Sunset said, turned away from the wall and shrugged. “What are you researching anyway?” Draco said, looking at the plain piece of wall that Sunset had been looking at. “Just… trying to find the secrets of the castle,” Sunset said. Draco gave Sunset a long, and strangely neutral look. “Right,” he eventually said, and nodded. “Finding anything?” “Uh… something. Maybe. Secret passages and such.” “Really? Where?” “I said maybe,” Sunset pointed out, looking slightly apologetic. “They’re well-hidden.” Draco nodded absent-mindedly, and just looked at Sunset while clearly lost in thoughts. This went on for a few moments, before Sunset started to feel a little weirded out. “... You okay?” she asked. This brought Draco back to reality, and he nodded his head. “Uh yeah, uh… I’ll… leave you to it then,” he said, and started turning around. “Oh, right. Goodbye then,” Sunset said, as Draco walked back towards the great hall, only casting a brief glance at Sunset. Sunset shook her head and sighed, and realized that the past few weeks, she had started feeling more comfortable about her abilities to socialize like a normal person. Now, she felt as though she should throw out all her gathered data and start over, or just give up. — The next morning, the rumor was very rapidly spreading that Colin Creevey, the first year with the camera, had been attacked during the night as well. A sense of unease was spreading across the student body, and the teachers similarly were clearly trying to not seem as tense as they actually were. “Professor McGonagall?” Sunset asked, during transfiguration. “Is Colin Creevey petrified just like Filch’s cat, so he’ll be cured?” “Yes,” was McGonagall’s short answer, before moving on to the lesson. It seemed to Sunset that if this kept going for much longer, her default manner of breathing would be slow heaves of rumination, and her default expression would be one of deep pondering. Potions were, as always, the subject that took the most time to stay ahead of class in, and she was only now approaching the end of the third year’s concoctions. This was of course because she had to find quiet corners of the castle to practice in, and because brewing a potion was a project. However, she did find several ways of more efficiently using the ingredients, as well as other techniques of handling the potions, such as other sitting patterns and alternate temperatures of brewing, which she scribbled in the margins of her book. Sunset had also saved all her potions and stored them away in her bag when practicing on her own time, and she now worked on sewing little pouches into her cloak, complete with cushioning enchantments to keep them from breaking and spilling, so that she always had a set of possibly useful concoctions ready. The chances of actually being attacked by someone, or something, which could put you in a magical stasis, and possibly worse, was starting to seem more and more likely. Having a set of potions might not be useful if an attack happens, but it would probably not hurt. It did prove to be useful when Sunset’s hand was splashed with Swelling Solution from Goyle’s cauldron exploding, and she had a Deflating Draught ready. “You want some of this?” Sunset asked, holding the potion out to Neville sitting next to her. “Uh, I think it missed me,” he said, patting himself down for symptoms. When Snape fished out a piece of firework from Goyle’s cauldron and slowly swept across the classroom with his gaze, Sunset felt strangely impressed. “Someone likes to live dangerously,” she noted to Neville, just before the bell rang. Life at Hogwarts gradually changed, along with the weather, over the next week. People tried to not show it, but there was something in the air. The feeling of discomfort that Sunset had been absorbing was back, and stronger than before. One of the changes that Sunset couldn’t help but be intrigued by was the same thing that every student found interesting, which was a planned dueling club. Having students aged 10 to 18 engage in mock combat should be an interesting sight if nothing else. — I agree with your assessment about petrification. Have you seen examples of petrification from beasts we have in Equestria as well? Or have you read any accounts of them? Yes, and cockatrices’ petrification are described exactly as the cat’s condition. What a strange quirk. I can’t think of why that might be The book was still for a moment, before it continued. , and Twilight says she doesn’t know either. And you say that there’s a second victim now? Be careful, Sunset. I’ll try to be smart instead. That will do. Now, what upsets you? Sunset opened her mouth slightly, before shutting it again. I’m not upset. I think you are, even if you don’t realize it. In that case, I don’t know why. If you ever want to talk about it, don’t be afraid to contact me. Okay. But now, the dueling class is about to start, so I’ll let you go back to Twilight. Celestia’s next words came slowly, as if she wanted to rush to say something, but wasn’t sure what. That is good of you to say. I’m happy. Sunset almost felt happy just from that too, but mostly unsure. Good, I think. Why? The book was still for another moment, before the words came again, steadily. Nothing. Never mind. I love you, Sunset. Now go and see what you can learn about combat with wands. Now it was Sunset’s turn to be still for a moment, before responding as well. Right. Love you too. Sunset closed the book, and sat in her bed in silence for several moments, before rising up and walking down to the Gryffindor common room. She paused at the precipice of the Fat Lady’s portrait, and leaned against the wall, deep in thought about Celestia’s words. A cat and a student lay in the hospital wing, petrified, as it was called in this world. It wasn’t a good time to saunter through the hallways absent-mindedly. After several minutes though, she managed to clear her head, and made her way towards the Great Hall. Sunset would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about a wizarding dueling club. She hadn’t yet seen actual human wizarding combat. The only spells used offensively she had seen were jinxes and hexes, subcategories of charms, used by students to annoy each other, making each other slip, covering others with feathers, and things of that nature. The tables in the hall had been removed, and instead there was a great scene at the far end. Almost the entire student body was facing the scene or milling around to try and find a good spot. Sunset leaned against the wall next to Fred, George, and Ginny. “Ginny, Stooge One, Stooge Two,” Sunset said in recognition. Fred and George opened their mouths, and looked at each other, before shrugging. “Good one. We got nothing,” Fred said. “Has anything interesting happened yet?” Sunset asked. “No. Filch was sweeping the scene just now, but no one else has showed up,” Ginny said. When Gilderoy Lockhart and Severus Snape walked out on the stage, Ginny’s expression changed to one of concerned disbelief, while Sunset, Fred, and George rolled their eyes and chuckled. “This ought to be good,” George said. “Gather round, gather round! Can everyone hear me? Can you all see me? Excellent!” he said, swishing his robe. Sunset was disappointed. The key to making your robe swish right is to make it swish without making it seem like you’re making it swish. Lockhart continued. “Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club…” “I would’ve loved to see Dumbledore’s expression when he did,” Fred said, under his breath. “... to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions- for full details, see my published works. “Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,” he said, holding out a plum-clad arm in the sour-looking Snape’s direction, smiling. Sunset could see herself smiling in Lockhart’s place, but she couldn’t see how Lockhart himself could do so. “He tells me he knows a tiny bit about dueling himself, and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry. You’ll still have your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!” Sunset glanced at Fred and George, and could only guess from the stunned smiles on their faces at what was going through their minds. Things proceeded as if it was a duel of honor from there, with Snape and Lockhart bowing, sort of in Snape’s case, towards each other, before calmly aiming their wands at each other. “As you can see…” Lockhart said, and very foolishly if this had been actual combat, turned his head away from Snape to address the crowd. “... we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.” “Do it, do it, do it,” Fred and George chanted under their breaths, while Ginny silently giggled at them. “One… two… three…” Even though Lockhart was the one doing the counting, he had barely started to move when Snape had finished shouting, “Expelliarmus!” A flash of red light shot from Snape’s wand, and made Lockhart’s wand fly out of his hand, while also knocking him back so hard he flew into the wall behind him, sliding down to the floor. Fred and George clapped, along with several others. “It feels wrong, since it’s Snape, but…” George said, and shrugged. Somehow, Lockhart was smiling when he walked back up on the stage, trying not to show how gingerly he walked. “Well, there you have it! That was a Disarming Charm- as you can see, I’ve lost my wand. Ah, thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…” Sunset was almost as amused glancing at Fred and George as they struggled for words. Their favorite pastime was making fun of people who took themselves seriously, but this was beyond their capabilities. “Enough demonstrating! I’m going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you’d like to help me…” Snape had gone off to one end of the hall, while Lockhart was taking the one that Sunset was in. Fred and George glanced at each other, and then Sunset, before starting to shuffle away from her. “Ah, Mister and Mister Weasley,” Lockhart said, approvingly. “A mirror match it is then. Interesting. And Miss Shimmer. Let’s see if we can find someone in your own year…” At Lockhart’s words, people silently started scurrying away like when you lift a stone and uncover a whole society of creepy crawlies who are afraid of the light. The one who hadn’t been very fast on the uptake was a Slytherin student who was left standing with a metaphorical spotlight on him. “Ah, Mister Zabini! You and Miss Shimmer will pair up!” Sunset casually walked over to Blaise, who stared at her with wide eyes. “Hello,” she said, and after a moment, he managed to nod at her in return. Blaise kept nervously glancing over his shoulder, towards Malfoy who was giving him a warning look, until he was called over by Snape who wanted to pair him up with Harry. “Wands at the ready!” Lockhart shouted. “When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent- only disarm them, we don’t want any accidents.” A nervous looking Blaise Zabini carefully raised his wand, while Sunset didn’t bother, and just held her wand casually at her side. Lockhart started counting. “One, two, three.” It was Armageddon, localized to the dining hall in an old castle somewhere in Scotland. Hundreds of young witches and wizards, cramped together, were trying to perform hundreds of duels, most of them with poor conduct. Several students had indeed tried to disarm their opponent, but they quickly joined the one who hadn’t bothered in trying other spells to try and cause some sort of effect. Friends were knocking each other over, and enemies were flailing at each other and trying to make magic happen the way they wanted, and everything in between. Throughout it all, Blaise Zabini and Sunset just stood there. Sunset waiting, and Zabini frozen. “I said disarm only!” Lockhart shouted. Sunset’s demeanor was keeping Zabini so off guard she had to make sure she wasn’t exuding some sort of threatening aura of pure magic power, which she wasn’t. “... Well?” she said, loud enough to be overheard from all the other fighting. Zabini took a deep, rushed breath, and raised his wand. By now, not the entire hall, but several nearby combatants, had given up trying to properly duel, and waited for a sort of reset from the professors. They now turned to watch Blaise and Sunset. "E-expelliarmus!" Zabini shouted, and swung his wand. Sunset was ready for it, and every other spell that second year students knew, and casually swished her wand in a small motion in front of her. A golden aura could be seen for just a moment in front of Sunset, as Zabini’s red stream of magic impacted into it, taking a fraction of a second to grow brighter. All sound vanished from the great hall for barely a moment as an ethereal shockwave accompanied the relaunching of the magic projective, which flew back at Zabini, much faster than it had come towards Sunset. Sunset’s eyes grew wide when she realized what was happening. She had been sure she wouldn’t overdo it, but she also hadn’t had the chance to properly practice with wizarding magic. The magic hit a shocked Zabini, and launched him clear across the room, towards the door leading out to the central junction of the castle. Several people were knocked off their feet from the shockwave, and the stage on the other side of the room lifted from the floor for a moment. Sunset shot out her hand, magically opening the doors to give Zabini more room to zoom across, and lifted a tapestry next to the door to catch him with. When Zabini was out of danger, Sunset made sure to use her wand, as she floated him back into the room, and placed him, knees shaking, in front of herself. She tried to assume a casual demeanor as she searched for words. “... That looked like a disarming charm. Well done,” she offered. Snape and Lockhart were looking over their shoulder, utterly still, and trying to figure out what had happened. They had apparently missed the most bombastic parts of the spectacle, which Sunset was thankful for, but Sunset still wished she would have done the whole thing differently. After a moment, Lockhart finished to feebly tend to the lightly injured students, before looking around. “I think I’d better teach you how to block unfriendly spells,” he said, and scanned the room. “Let’s have a volunteer pair. Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?” Now Snape spoke up. “A bad idea, Professor Lockhart Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox.” Neville looked down at his feet, and Sunset thought that Snape was lucky she felt that she had enough attention for one day, since this would be a prime opportunity to cast a tarring and feathering spell while making it look like it came from someone else. “How about Potter and Malfoy?” Snape continued, smiling. “Excellent idea!” Lockhart said, and gestured them over, as the students made way for them in the middle of the hall. Snape whispered something to Malfoy, which made him grin excitedly. Similarly, Lockhart leaned down and whispered instructions to Harry, and dropped his wand during them. Sunset was getting exhausted just looking at him. Lockhart backed away, with a big, expectant smile on his face. “Three, two, one!” he shouted. Malfoy had started early, and when Lockhart was finished, Malfoy shouted, “Serpensortia!” Harry took half a step backward with an unsure scowl on his face, as a great snake shot out of Draco’s wand, and landed on the floor, already raised and ready to strike. The crowd stumbled over itself in an effort to move away from the snake. “Don’t move, Potter. I’ll get rid of it,” Snape said, in a smug voice. But before he could do anything, Lockhart stepped up. “Allow me!” he shouted, with a pleased look on his face, and waved his wand at the snake. It shot up several feet above the heads of the crowd, before landing a little bit aways, once again raised up, and facing Justin Finch-Fletchley, clearly very annoyed, and eager to work out some aggressions. Sunset raised her hand to cast a shield around Justin, when she realized that there had been a steadily growing, almost otherworldly hissing sound reverberating through the hall. Everyone else seemed to notice as well, and managed to turn their gazes away from the snake, and noticed that Harry was standing with his hand out, pointing at the snake, and spitting the odd sound out with a strangely commanding tone. The snake was ready to strike, when Harry let out a short, stern-sounding hiss. It stared at Justin a second longer, and then calmly lay down on the floor, looking patiently at Harry. The crowd had been absolutely silent, and Sunset shared the sentiment, as she tried to absorb every detail of the episode, when Justin broke the spell. “What do you think you’re playing at!?” he shouted, then turned and ran out of the hall. Snape stepped up to the snake and waved his wand, making it vanish with a puff of smoke, before he turned to silently look at Harry, his face utterly impassive. All around the hall, people started to mutter and whisper, glancing at each other when not staring at Harry. Some of them took a few steps back to put some more distance between themselves and him. Harry’s gaze was mostly kept by Snape, until he noticed the mumbling around him. Ron and Hermione quickly walked up to him with long strides, and whispered in his ear, before dragging him out of there. Every eye in the hall followed them as they turned in the direction of Gryffindor tower. Sunset did as well, deep in thoughts, before the crowd finally started to move, shuffling out of there while talking amongst themselves. “Parselmouth,” was the word Sunset heard whispered over and over. All the attention Sunset had attracted during her own duel was seemingly gone now, which she was grateful for, but what had drawn it away left a very ominous feeling in the air.