Magic Mirror On The Wall, Who Is Mightiest Of Them All?

by Snakeskin Ducttape

Red On Silver

“People are asking me about you,” Neville said to Sunset in a low voice at lunch.

“Oh yeah?” Sunset said, almost scoffing. “Who?”

“Some older students. Some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs too. I didn’t tell them anything.”

"Good. Thanks. Be especially careful with the Hufflepuffs. You never know what they’re up to.”

Neville levelled a confused look at Sunset, before shifting it towards the Hufflepuff table.

“Although most people are talking about Harry,” Neville said, quietly enough so only Sunset could hear him.

“Yeah, let’s get people to focus on him instead.”

“Hmm,” Neville muttered, unsure. “I don’t think he likes it either.”

Sunset glanced a few seats down the table, where Harry was flanked protectively by Ron and Hermione. With an annoyed and weary frown, they silenced a group of first year Ravenclaws who had been whispering amongst themselves and pointing at Harry.

“I guess so,” Sunset said. “So being able to speak snake is a bad sign then?”

Neville nodded, both of them being careful not to glance at Harry. “Yeah, supposedly only dark wizards can do it.”

“And he didn’t learn it here, because people would’ve noticed if he sat around with a snake dictionary, and he’s not allowed to study magic where he lives, which means he was born with it?” Sunset asked, to which Neville nodded. “And there are innate abilities which mark you as evil then?”

“Uhm…” Neville said, sounding a little uncomfortable. “Yeah… people see it as that.”

Sunset looked at him. “Do you?”

“Uh… well… no, I guess. I mean, maybe if it was someone in Slytherin, but… it’s Harry.”

“And the rumours that he’s the one petrifying people?”

“Well… we kinda suspect the monster that Professor Binns was talking about, right? Sounds more likely than Harry doing it, don’t you think?”

“All I know is that I’m not the one petrifying people, but as for what I think…”

Sunset stared straight ahead with a pondering scowl as she chewed her food.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had slipped away one night late last semester and gotten up some pretty adventurous stuff, right under Sunset’s nose. The information on the whole thing was really sparse, but the most consistent rumours were regarding a dark wizard searching for something in the castle.

Harry might indeed have powerful, innate capabilities, which would mesh with the historical fact that the dread Lord Voldemort had become the dead Lord Voldemort (a name which Sunset had found particularly hard to suss out) when he tried to kill Harry.

There was also the possibility that whatever the dark wizard last semester had been looking for had found its way into Harry’s possession, be it a thing or a piece of knowledge, possibly a weapon or somesuch.

After those considerations came the question of motive. Why would Harry walk around and petrify cats and students? Did he perhaps not mean to? Did he unleash dangerous magics around him at random, not being in control of his actions?

Or was it not Harry at all?

“... I really have no idea.”

“Mm,” Neville nodded, sounding sombre.

“By the way, bummed out that the herbology lesson was cancelled?” Sunset asked, glancing up at the enchanted ceiling, which showed the blizzard outside.

“Uh, yeah. A little,” Neville admitted.

Sunset shrugged. “Maybe you could ask Professor Sprout if she wants help with the mandrakes.”

Neville looked sceptical as he searched for words. “Ehm… No.”

“Why not? You get on with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but… still no, for the same reason you don’t ask if you can help Professor Flitwick.”

“Touché,” Sunset said, and felt her respect-metre for Neville move ever so slightly, and chewed her food as she considered the last few days’ development.

“... I wonder if being able to talk to snakes includes being able to talk to anguidae,” she said.

“What’s an anguidae?” Neville asked.

“A legless lizard.”

Neville’s eyes shifted around for a moment. “... Wouldn’t that just be a snake?”

“No actually, the same way ferns are not shrubs.”

Neville gave Sunset a long look. “Lavender is right, sometimes you really do seem like a muggleborn. Or just like a muggle.”

“What do you mean?” Sunset asked, curiously. “Do you know what muggles talk about?”

“Uhm… kinda. Professor Marchbanks is friends with my gran and comes over for tea sometimes, and she’s an examiner in the evaluation authority, including Muggle Studies. So she has read tons on muggle topics.”

“Ah. Well, what I wanted to get to is that if Harry can talk to legless lizards that look a lot like snakes, he should be able to speak to all reptiles… A lizard-wizard.”

Neville hanged his head in exhaustion, but Sunset just looked pleased with herself.

After her meal, Sunset took to listlessly wandering the corridors, pondering on the rumours that were building around herself.

On one hoof... hand, she had intended to keep a low profile. On the other hand, gaining some attention might have been bound to happen, and if it were, mysterious might have been one of the better things to be perceived as.

Or… Sunset at least hoped she was perceived as mysterious. The private kind, where people learn that there’s no point in prying.

Speaking of mysteries, there was the whole thing with Harry, and the petrifications, as well. Sunset frowned, and not for the first time, as she considered the whole affair. She had been classmates with Harry for over a year, and she still really had no idea if he could be behind it, no idea what to make of him at all really. 

She wondered if that was a shortcoming of hers, and how much she should care if it was.

With ominous timing, she heard Peeves the poltergeist cry out from one floor down, “ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!”

Sunset turned on the spot and sprinted towards the stairs, her wand drawn, clearing them with one big leap and rounding a corner and aiming her wand straight forward, just as Professor McGonagall rushed out through a door, barely missing Sunset, and followed by her students spilling out right behind her.

“Sunset! Miss Shimmer!” McGonagall yelled, trying to sound stern.

“Yes, professor?” a focused Sunset said, not looking at her, but straight ahead as she rounded another corner with McGonagall right behind her, drawing her own wand.

“Miss Shimmer, you will stay behi–” McGonagall was interrupted by the sight of Nearly Headless Nick, petrified and turned so dark so as to almost no longer be transparent, and Justin, whom Sunset remembered from the Duelling Club, lying on the floor, also petrified, with Harry Potter standing as if ready to fight or flee in the middle of the corridor.

Sunset only had about a second to appraise the scene, before not only McGonagall’s class, but many more students, rounded the corners.

They quickly rushed forward to get a better look at the two petrified individuals, filling the hallway with alarmed chatter and blocking Sunset from examining them up close. Instead she just put her wand away with a slightly frustrated frown.

Before the student body had a chance to stampede, McGonagall let out a loud bang with her wand, which silenced everyone, until a moment later when another Hufflepuff student pointed at Harry with a shaking finger.

“Caught in the act!”

“That will do, Macmillan!” McGonagall said, and ploughed a way through the crowd with her presence as she walked up to Nick and Justin, and made a quick inspection of them.

Professor Flitwick made his way through the crowd from the opposite direction, not having the physical presence to make the students move out of the way ahead of him, and shortly thereafter being joined by Professor Sinistra.

“Minerva?” Flitwick asked, with a sad but grim tone.

McGonagall simply nodded, and they had a quiet conversation, before she drew herself up to her full height.

“All students, classes are cancelled for the rest of the day,” she said. “Return to your dormitories, in groups of three or more. Macmillan, you will assist Professor Sinistra in moving Sir Nicholas to the medical wing.”

The crowd lingered for one more moment, before they started moving away, just as Flitwick started levitating Justin after Ernie and Professor Sinistra.

Sunset made sure she was among the last to leave, trying to get more good looks at the petrified student, and ghost, but learned nothing she didn’t already know, and left Harry and McGonagall standing alone in the corridor.

The terrified scent coming off from Harry left Sunset with an uneasy feeling in her guts. It took a moment before she realised that she wanted to help, with the problem being that she had no idea how.

Harry had come back to the common room shortly afterward, and had immediately been flanked by Ron and Hermione, who had sat him down between themselves on a sofa and focused on studying astronomy with him, all three of them looking very busy and not in the mood for questions.

The whole affair with the latest petrification had led to even more people signing up for spending the holidays away from Hogwarts during the holidays.

“Are you staying, Sunset?” Lavender asked, as she packed her suitcase.

“Hm?” Sunset asked, looking at Lavender while lying on her bed, fully clothed.

“Are you staying? You’re not packing.”

“Oh… I don’t know. I guess. Not sure where else t–” she said, before catching herself and shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Lavender looked at Sunset with a worried expression.

“... I… could ask my parents if you could stay with us.”

The hesitancy in Lavender’s voice hinted to Sunset that it might not have been as simple as that, which made her appreciate the gesture a little bit more.

“It’s okay,” Sunset said, giving Lavender an apologetic smile. “But thanks anyway.”

Parvati spoke up instead. “Maybe Neville coul– ah!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Lavender, who had just thrown a pair of folded socks at Parvati. “I slipped. Can I have those back?”

It was another one of those mysterious, unspoken conversations that Sunset had never gotten the hang off. A lot of mares and fillies back in Canterlot worked the same way.

Whatever they spoke about, Sunset wouldn’t have to care about it tomorrow, and until classes started again.

Putting her book down, Sunset turned over in her bed and did her best to shut the world out, and didn’t realise that she did almost nothing the rest of the day, until she heard Hermione come back into the dorm, and quietly slip into bed.

The next morning, Sunset woke up to find that she was alone in the dorm, Hermione having  already slipped out.

For some reason, Sunset liked that, but she couldn’t tell exactly why. It wasn’t as if she disliked Hermione. In fact, she often appreciated how Hermione openly tried to attract the teachers’ attention.

Even so, the stillness was rather pleasant, and Sunset rubbed her thumb and index finger together, magically re-igniting the charred logs in the fireplace, and just lying on her side and staring into the fire through an opening in the curtains of her poster bed for a long while.

Eventually, she slipped out of bed and into a cheap pair of slippers she had bought in London, enchanted to be softer and warmer than mundane ones.

She waved her finger again, heating up her nightgown, and staring out the window across the snow-covered castle grounds, listening to the wind whistling outside and enjoying the comforting solitude for a bit longer, before making her way down the stairs.

“Morning, Sunset!” Fred, or possibly George, called from the couch in front of the bigger fireplace in the common room, waving her over.

Sunset shrugged to herself, figuring that at least there was another fireplace here to enjoy, and went over to sit down next to Ginny, who had wrapped herself up in a blanket and drinking hot cocoa with whipped cream in it with her brothers.

“Happy Christmas, Sunset,” Ginny said, looking a little tired.

“Happy Christmas,” Sunset said, sitting down. “Bad night?”

“Eh… I guess so. I’m not sure.”

“That’s what the cocoa is for,” George said, and brought his wand and incanted a spell to warm up a fourth mug that stood on the table before handing it to Sunset. “This was for Percy, but I guess he’s out doing important things.”

“Probably polishing his prefect badge,” Fred added, as Sunset accepted the mug.

“Here we are, trying to be nice, and he doesn’t show up,” George said, and shook his head.

That made Sunset stop herself before taking a zip, and look at the cup.

“... So… there’s no laxative or anything in this, then?”

“No, but that is a wonderful idea. Thank you,” Fred said, sounding solemn and dignified.

“No presents?” Ginny asked Sunset.

“Oh, uh… no, sorry, I forgot,” Sunset said, looking a little sheepish.

“I meant for you,” Ginny clarified, giving Sunset an apologetic smile.

“Oh, uh… no,” Sunset said, and noticed the charred remains of gift wrappings in the corner of the fireplace.

The Weasley siblings were quiet for a moment, as Sunset sipped her cocoa, which she realised had liberal helpings of sugar in it.

“We could ask mum to make you a sweater,” Fred eventually offered, cautiously.

Sunset looked at the burgundy wool affair on the twins, and smiled a little ruefully.

“They do look cozy,” she offered, as tactfully as she could.

“By the way, what’s Ron’s problem?” Fred asked.

“Ron has a problem?” Sunset said.

“Yeah, with you.”

“Uuh… oh. I don’t know,” Sunset said, shrugging. “I guess he took a dim view of something I said, and now he thinks I dislike muggleborns.”

“Do you?” Ginny asked, a little cautiously.

“Nope,” Sunset simply said.

“Oh, so you’re not ordering around the monster either?” George said, smirking.

“No, that would be news to me,” Sunset said.

Ginny withdrew a little into her blanket and sipped her cocoa, giving off an uncomfortable scent that Sunset picked up on.

Sunset couldn’t blame her. There was something irking her as well. She was wrapped in a soft blanket, sipping cocoa in front of a fire, in a tower, with falling snow and low temperatures outside. All should’ve been well in the world, and yet, for some reason, it wasn’t.

“By the way, where are Harry… and Ron and Hermione?” Ginny asked.

“Don’t know. Still in bed?” Fred suggested.

“Hermione was gone when I woke up,” Sunset noted.

“Oh… don’t know then. Not worried that the monster has attacked them, are you?” Fred asked Ginny.

“No,” Ginny simply said, and looked surprised at herself, but no one said anything, so she just continued to stare into the fire.

It was a shame to waste such a nice moment, but something kept irking Sunset, so she thanked the twins, walked up to the dorm and changed into her uniform, taking care to magically heat it up, and checked her book.

Happy Hearth’s Warming, Sunset.

Sunset sat down on her bed, and brought out her pen.

Happy Hearth’s Warming, Princess.

Celestia obviously had her own book ready, because she answered promptly, making Sunset feel even worse to a small degree, as she didn’t feel herself appreciating Celestia being there for her.

How are you, my dear student?

I don’t know. Not very good. I’m not sick or in pain, and as far as I can tell I don’t have any reason to not feel good, but I just don’t.

We all feel that way sometimes, Sunset. Are you feeling shut in, perhaps? Do you need a break from your routine?

Sunset pondered this for a moment.

Maybe. Why do you ask that?

It’s just a hunch. Or maybe I’m speaking from my own experience. It might be worth considering.

Maybe it will. Thank you.

You’re welcome.

Celestia tactfully encouraged Sunset to go about her day, and Sunset figured that Celestia could tell how much Sunset was struggling with idle chit-chat.

She walked out into the corridors of the castle, slipping by the great hall to collect a slice of bread to eat as she sauntered through the halls.

Where did her feeling of discontent come from, she wondered.

One obvious nominee was the attacks that the students had suffered.

Sunset wondered, and not for the first time, how many more incidents would be acceptable before the authorities, this Ministry of Magic she had yet to have any direct dealings with, stepped in.

If their approach were to call in law enforcement or a military force, or whatever was the equivalent among wizards, Sunset would just have to redouble her efforts to not attract attention, which she didn't relish the idea off.

On the other hand, if the school were to be shut down, well… Sunset figured that she could still just make her way in this world, and learn its magic from books instead. However, before she figured that, she felt a fairly strong sense of dislike. She didn't like the idea of the school shutting down.

That trail of thought looped back to the question of why she felt so listless.

What she wanted, really wanted, of course, was to be back in Equestria as an alicorn. But that wasn’t happening yet. She still didn’t know how one becomes an alicorn. And that, she realised, was really taking its toll.

She had seen herself as an alicorn in Celestia’s mirror. She wanted to be an alicorn, and she wanted to be one now. Or rather, she wanted to be done with it.

She wanted…

“Hello, Sunset.”

Sunset jumped, having failed to notice Draco’s cologne, and looked up from the stone tiles to see a smirking Draco Malfoy walking up to her.

“Hello, Draco,” she said, mildly surprised at how steady and normal her voice was. “What’s up?”

Draco’s smile washed away from realising something. “Oh, yeah. Have you seen Crabbe or Goyle?”

Sunset shook her head. “No. Why?”

“They were acting odd. We were just talking, when suddenly they looked at each other and rushed out of the common room.”

“Oh. No, I haven't seen them. Maybe they needed to go to the bathroom?”

Draco nodded, letting out a small sigh. “They probably did,” he said, and rallied. “Anyway, how are you?”

Sunset shrugged. “Not sure. A little down, maybe.”

“Why?” Draco asked, cocking his head slightly.

“I don’t know, I’m trying to figure it out,” she said, and explored her previous trail of thought a little. “I’m just not making a lot of progress.”

“On what?” Draco asked.

“Erm… studying, I guess.”

He gave her an amused smile. “It’s the holidays, you know.”

Sunset opened her mouth, and if she hadn’t felt so listless, she might also have felt like she deserved a slap over the head. “Yeah… I guess it is,” she said, and scoffed at herself in wry amusement. “Maybe I should’ve left too.”

A part of her wondered if Celestia had been shaking her head while she read Sunset’s complaints.

“To do what?” Draco asked.

“I don’t know. Go somewhere or do something else for a change?”

Draco shrugged questioningly. “What’s stopping you?”

Shrugging in turn, Sunset said, “I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”

Draco folded his arms and looked pleased with himself. “I could help you out.”

She looked at him questioningly. “How?”

“I have floo powder with me.”

Giving that some thought, Sunset slowly nodded. “... Ah… Would we get into trouble for leaving? I didn’t sign up on the list of students who would be absent.”

Draco smirked confidently. “My father is on the board of governors.”

Sunset was about to ask him if by that he was implying that no, they would not get into trouble, but realised that the answer was obvious.

She turned her head to look out a window, considering the offer.

Maybe Celestia was right, Sunset thought. Maybe she did need a break from routine. To just shelve everything she would normally ruminate on, go away, for even just half a day, and not worry about it at all for a short time.

Eventually, she just shrugged.

“Yeah… sure. What did you have in mind?”

Draco’s smirk halfway morphed into a more normal smile. “We could go to Diagon Alley.”

Sunset looked outside into the gently falling snow, which reminded her of that snowy day when Filch had caught her coming back from the forest, almost exactly a year ago now.

She wondered if it was wise to break rules once again, and immediately reminded herself that she was Sunset Shimmer. She can avoid trouble, and when she doesn’t avoid it, she gets herself out of it.

Besides, if Draco’s father sat on the board…

“... Sure,” Sunset said. “Where’s a good fireplace?”

Draco’s eyes lit up, and he immediately started talking very quickly. “We shouldn’t do it in a common room. There’s a storage room on the third floor with a fireplace in it.”

“Oh yeah,” Sunset said, having remembered seeing that at some point.

“You go there, I’ll be back really quickly with some floo powder!” Draco said, turned around, and ran down the hallway.

Sunset gently sauntered back to Gryffindor tower, collected her bag, and shoved her muggle-appropriate jacket into it, before making her way to the third floor.

She was getting pretty good at avoiding people when the school was operating normally. Now though, she didn’t see a soul. Not even a ghost floated past, and Sunset figured that they might be having another party, just like Nick had thrown together, only this time for the holiday.

Pushing open the door, Sunset stepped into the room, which was filled with old chairs, desks, cabinets, and other things of that kind, stacked along the walls and in the centre.

Luckily, the fireplace was not blocked, meaning there would be no trace of people in the thick dust of the room. Sunset had put a spell on her boots to keep them from leaving tracks, just in case, and hoped that Draco had thought of the same.

It turned out that he did not, as Sunset learned less than a minute later, when a slightly panting Draco stepped into the room with a green velvet bag in his hand.

“I, hah, left a note for Crabbe and, hah, Goyle. If anyone asks, they’re gonna say that we’re still in the castle somewhere.”

Sunset nodded. “Good thinking.”

“Shall we?” Draco said, and held out his arm invitingly to Sunset, and handed her a pinch of the magical ash.

She stepped into the fireplace, and said, “The Leaky Cauldron,” as she dropped the ashes.

After a short moment of magical travel, Sunset stepped out of the fireplace at The Leaky Cauldron, and could’ve sworn she felt a faint, extrasensory chant about green flames.

As she was taking in the sight, Draco stepped out behind her.

The Leaky Cauldron was as it usually was. Dark, dingy, but in a very cozy way, lit by candles and oil lamps, and of course fireplaces, where dark, hooded figures huddle around and gossip about… whatever it is dark, hooded figures gossip about.

Tom the innkeeper surreptitiously scurried up to them, cleaning a dirty mug with a rag as he did.

“Why, Miss Shimma, ‘n young masta’ Malfoy,” he said. “Passing through, or can I get ye sumthin?”

Sunset was about to answer, when she noticed Draco holding out his hand invitingly.

“I’ll let you decide,” he said.

Sunset shrugged. “Sure. Do you have some sort of pie ready, Tom?”

“Aye, blueberry.”

“A blueberry pie then, thank you.”

They took a seat in a far corner, while the hard, hooded figures followed them with their gazes in a slightly sinister manner. Sunset didn’t care though, as those garments were obviously made for looking sinister in corners of dark taverns, made for showing off. Besides, her nose told her that several of them were enjoying a blueberry pie of their own, and if there’s anything that Sunset was less afraid of than fashion victims, it was fashion victims eating blueberry pies.

Sunset Shimmer was good at many things, but initiating smalltalk was not something she had that much experience in, and so she simply made herself comfortable on the wooden bench.

Draco, on the other hand, kept smirking and glancing at her.

“So… how has the year been treating you, Sunset?”

Sunset’s brow creased as she pondered this.

She liked learning human style magic, with wands, and she had to admit that there were some nice people at Hogwarts. Neville was not such an intruding presence, Flitwick was a bit more inquisitive, though still very supportive, and Sunset had to admit that Fred and George could be quite entertaining, as could Parvati and Lavender, if perhaps not as intentionally.

So far however, this second year, there had been a sour taste mixed in. She was frustrated with her lack of progress on her grand quest lately. Not to mention, the scent of terror from the students had been permeating the castle endlessly for months now, and was definitely affecting her as well.

Also, students had been attacked. That was bad too.

Sunset had never been one for marking territory, but she was all for giving anything muscling in on her castle a piece of her mind, which was quite the event when given by a unicorn archmage.

“Eh… so-so,” she said. “How about you?”

Tom arrived, and quietly presented them with two plates with half a pie on each.

Sunset started eating immediately, preferring that to talking.

“Quite good. It’s been an exciting year, don’t you think?” Draco said, taking a piece of pie into his own mouth.

“I guess.”

After a moment, Draco noted, “you don’t seem entirely pleased about something.”

“Yeah,” Sunset muttered. “... I haven’t made the progress in my… research that I was hoping for.”

Sunset glanced up from her meal and saw that Draco was smirking while looking at her.

She wasn’t a fine-tuned social sensor, able to discern minute detail in tone and faces, nor did she care to- That was Cadence’s field, but she felt like that smirk wasn’t a demeaning or malevolent one.

They ate in silence for a moment, before a still smiling Draco spoke.

“I hope you make some progress. Maybe I can help?”

Sunset looked up, mildly surprised with herself. She hadn’t even considered whether or not a wizard could help her.

She didn’t think one could, but there was also nothing written about alicorns. In Equestria, the books that dealt with alicorns were second hoof, third hoof, and even fourth hoof accounts on Princess Celestia, with the occasional, fussy passage or reference to other alicorns, or perhaps even just one single other alicorn long, long ago.

Sunset had reminded herself many, many times of what she had seen, in two separate magic mirrors, and what Celestia had said to her, because she really was in uncharted territory with her grand mission.

The sheer amount of theories, hypotheses, and mere hunches on the subject she had considered was staggering to herself when she thought back on it, but while their books had not yielded any fruit, looking into what human wizards- other human wizards, could do, for her, wasn’t something she had considered.

If she did look into it though, perhaps Draco wouldn’t be the best choice of wizard.

“Maybe,” she offered, tactfully, and just as she was about to take another bite, a slight chime was heard from her bag.

“What’s that?” Draco asked, stretching to look at the bag laying beside Sunset on her wooden bench.

Sunset gave her bag a look, thinking to herself, and realised why she had been feeling so down lately.

She hadn’t spoken to anyone about herself for the better part of two years. Always having her guard up, always watching her words, always keeping her head down.

Now, she was tired.

She knew she should've made some excuse. She knew it was folly to let someone see so much, but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She sighed, and brought Celestia’s book out.

Draco looked at the glowing book with interest, which only deepened when he saw the words forming themselves on the page.

Hello again, Sunset.

Yes, I’m writing again. I don't know when you will read this, but I hope you are feeling better.

Before Celestia could continue, Sunset set her pen to the page.

Hello, Celestia.

I’m reading it right now. And I’ve made an attempt to feel better, but we’ll see how it goes. Thanks for checking in on me.

I’m glad to hear that. Let me guess: You are not alone.

Sunset’s mouth fell open slightly, as she stared at the page. She could practically feel Celestia’s smirk through the pages

“What is that?” Draco asked. “Is it writing itself? Those aren’t letters.”

“They are, just different ones,” Sunset said, happy to have more confirmation that people here couldn’t read Modern Equestrian, as she thought about what to write.

I know where you keep your stash of cookies.

Sunset immediately shut the book, and put it back into her bag as she stood up. “Shall we?”

Draco dropped the subject of the book that apparently writes itself, and stood up as well.

As they walked over to the counter, Sunset brought out a silver sickle out of her bag, but Draco stepped up first, and with strangely sweeping motions, brought out two of his own while standing on the platform in front of the bar, which made him seem taller.

He smiled confidently at Sunset, and gestured invitingly to the back door.

Fighting back an amused smile, Sunset walked out to the entrance to Diagon Alley, Draco following behind her, until he stepped up to the brick wall and opened it with his wand, to once again invite her to step in first.

Both The Leaky Cauldron’s backlot, and Diagon Alley, were covered in snow, grey, slushy, and thoroughly stirred on the ground, and mostly white and undisturbed on other surfaces.

Cloak- and fur clad Wizards and witches were milling around, alone or in groups, in much higher spirits than at Hogwarts, talking about their plans for the evening, or just the gossip of the day.

Draco started walking with long, confident steps through the alley, swishing his cloak around him and mostly masking the oddly excited scent he was giving off.

“So, where would you like to go first?” he asked.

Sunset slowed down as she considered this. There was only one thing she knew she wanted, and that was not something that was available for purchase.

Of lesser importance were more potion supplies, but going by the recipes from her books, she was at the end of what she could do with affordable reagents.

“Not sure. Maybe I’m just happy to get out for a bit.”

“Do you want to look at quidditch supplies?”

Sunset was fine with that, and opened her mouth to ask if Draco wanted to look at quidditch supplies, and foresaw a line of questions where Draco responded that he’d do what she wanted, and an awkward back-and-forth about who is willing to do what for whom.

That reminded Sunset of Cadence, and she simply shrugged and nodded while fighting back the urge to gag.

They entered the quidditch store, which like all wizarding interiors Sunset had seen except for Hogwarts, was candle-lit and covered in wood-panelling, which Sunset found to be an amusing contrast with muggle sports stores.

It turns out that, unlike what Sunset had worried slightly about, Draco did not seem to want to draw a bunch of attention to themselves. Sunset had noticed many patterns when it came to rich people, but she had never quite managed to decode their minds.

“What’s your favourite team?” Draco asked, as he lazily sifted through quidditch gloves.

“I don’t really know any teams. I barely know anything about quidditch,” Sunset said, reading the label on a wax jar.

Thankfully, Draco didn’t push her to pick a favourite, and instead just said, “mm, mine is Pride of Portree. Father is a big sponsor of them as well.”

Sunset just nodded, and they continued their browsing in silence.

After a while, the tension was clearly growing. Draco wanted something, and Sunset couldn’t tell if she was the one who needed to do or say… whatever it was that needed to be said, or if it was Draco himself.

He kept glancing at her, but then looked away and seemed to focus on the quidditch products.

“Can I help you, sir, miss?” a store clerk suddenly said, standing to their side.

Draco looked slightly peeved for just a moment, before Sunset spoke up in an even voice. “Nothing for me, thank you. I’m just browsing.”

When the clerk looked at Draco, he just shook his head, and turned back to the wares.

After a while, Draco nodded towards the door, and they exited in silence.

“So what do you think about what’s been happening in school?” Draco asked, as they slowly sauntered through the snow.

“With the attacks, you mean?” Sunset said.

“Uhm, yes… a-and in general,”

“It’s got everyone frightened,” Sunset said, forgetting to keep the small but noticeable amount of vitriol out of her voice, as by now she was mightily tired of the scent of worry and terror emanating from her fellow students, but took a moment to steady herself. “I guess I can’t blame anyone.”

“You’re not frightened though.”

“No, not really. You don’t seem frightened either.”

“I’m not. Then again, we’re both pureblood,” Draco pointed out.

“That’s true…” Sunset said, and looked through the window of a petstore, unsure where to go from there.

Draco scoffed. “And some say that Harry Potter is the one behind it all.”

“Mm, that doesn’t sound very likely to me either.”

Sunset could practically feel Draco tensing up for a moment, before he stepped forward, and asked, in a low voice, “who do you think it is?”

Sunset shook her head. “No idea.”

Draco stepped back again slightly, and they continued down the alley. “You’d think all the mu… muggleborns would have been sent home or left by now.”

“That might be safest,” Sunset agreed. “Maybe that’s what whoever is doing it wants. No one has died yet.”

Draco nodded, and kept looking at Sunset as they walked. “No one has, has they. That’d still be good though, them all leaving.”

Sunset raised her eyebrow as she glanced at Draco. “You’re really against muggleborns being taught at Hogwarts, aren’t you?”

He seemed to falter for a moment, before drawing himself up to a regal posture, or at least an attempted regal posture.

“I think it would be best for wizards and muggles to stay separate.”

“Right, and I guess almost every witch and wizard agrees with you, considering the whole statute of secrecy, but that leaves the question of muggleborn witches and wizards,” Sunset said, in a conversational tone.

“What about them?”

“You’re not in support of muggleborn witches and wizards being taught at Hogwarts. If they’re not, it’s either: teach them somewhere else, or not teach them at all, and since muggleborns still display magic even when not trained, that’d lead to constant breaches to the statute of secrecy.”

Draco gave Sunset a long look as he searched for words.

“... So what do you think?”

That almost caught Sunset off guard, but only almost.

If she were really honest, she felt that something was flawed about the wizarding society. It was hard to tell how serious that flaw was, but it felt like it was deep.

She suspected it might’ve been, or come from, a lack of vision. Wizards and witches existed, and nothing; no one and no force of any kind, were in a position to say that they should not, but was that all they did? Just… be? It almost felt like it. They hid away in their ancient enclaves and studied old, old magics, with some leisure activity and the occasional interfamilial drama, and of course wars, every now and then.

Sunset figured that perhaps she was biassed, being a pony of Equestria, and therefore being born with Harmony as an eternal guide, which encouraged ponies to pursue thoughtful benevolence in all aspects of life.

The wizarding society seemed to lack anything like this, and not only that, but did not even bother pursuing any meaning or vision.

Sunset scratched her ear as she considered Draco’s question. Something, some… half-forgotten lesson, told her that this was not the time to say what she had just been thinking to Draco, and instead shrugged.

“... I’m a sort of outsider myself. Could I really demand that this other kind of outsider be treated differently, but not me?”

“Yes you can,” Draco insisted a little too quickly, before internally stumbling. “You… You’re a pureblood. You… you’d be welcome among my family, I know that.”

That made Sunset pause. That was quite the thing to say, for nobility.

… Actual nobility that is, rather than someone like Sunset; a lost scion in a sea of lost scions.

“... Thank you.”

Fighting to not show relief on his face, Draco smiled.

“Is that it though?” Sunset asked, as they kept walking. “I’m welcomed because I’m vouched for?”

“Uh, well… yes?” Draco said, sounding uncertain.

Sunset just nodded in understanding. That was indeed how the nobility worked in her experience.

“Mmm… So where do you want to go next?”

Draco was looking off to the side, where the face of Garrick Ollivander could be seen smiling at them.

“I think we’re invited somewhere.”

Draco and Sunset looked at Ollivander for a moment, before stepping in through the door to his shop, Sunset surreptitiously pulling out a few hairs from her head.

The elderly wand-maker hurried up to them through the cramped interior.

“Aah, young Mister Malfoy, hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches, and of course…” 

He reached Sunset, and carefully held out a hand, a gesture which Sunset reciprocated, and gently took hers in his own, and bowed down, relaxing for several seconds.

“... My lady. You warm my heart with your presence,” he whispered. “The results… Powerful, lively, even wild, and yet… such control. Among my very finest. I thank you again for such an opportunity, Lady Shimmer.”

“You’re very welcome,” Sunset said, smiling at him.

His face seemed to light even more, and his eyes widened when she opened her hand, and unseen by Draco, offered more hair to Ollivander.

“My… my lady… I… you honour me.”

Sunset just gently pushed the offering into his hand, and he swelled with pride.

Draco, having watched the exchange without any context, stood with confusion written all over his face.

He leaned in to try and get a look at what Ollivander and Sunset were exchanging.

“What’s that?”

The wandmaker suddenly turned to Draco, and studied him as if seeing him for the first time.

“... I see…” he said to… someone, possibly himself, in a low voice.

He snapped his fingers with his free hand, and the magical, self-measuring measuring tape, which Sunset had been momentarily beset by a year and a half ago now, floated up to measure Draco as Ollivander paced around him, inspecting his features closely, leaning in to inspect his neck and forehead, and mumbling to himself.

“... I see, I see, I see. Of course, and the change, and…” Ollivander chuckled to himself as he inspected the confused Draco. “Almost like a… yes. How… interesting.”

Draco had given up his attempt at overly dignified bearing, and just stood there, confused by the whole event.

“What is?” he asked.

Ollivander stepped in front of him, and gave him a scrutinising look. “... But would it not be…?” he said, stopped, and then pulled himself up to give Draco a much more ordinary look. “Young mister Malfoy,” he said, suddenly outright colloquially. “Would you agree to lend me your wand for a moment?”

Draco had almost pulled it out from underneath his robes when he looked up at Ollivander again. “What do you need it for?” he asked, but something made him pull it out and offer it regardless.

With a smooth, sweeping motion, Ollivander turned on the spot, his cloak swishing as he did so, and taking Draco’s wand out of his hand.

“For your wand’s sake,” he said, as he glided into the back of the store.

Draco looked at Sunset for some sort of reassurance, but Sunset, for some reason she couldn’t quite put her hoof on herself, didn’t feel suspicious at all. In fact, it was all somewhat amusing, so she simply shrugged.

Draco looked as if part of him wanted to storm after Ollivander and demand something from him, but a far greater part was very unsure of what to do, so he just carefully leaned over the counter, trying to see what was happening.

They could hear Ollivander mumble to himself between the tapping of wood on wood, like lightly striking sticks, or as it were, wands, against various surfaces on various points.

A slightly wide-eyed Draco turned to Sunset.

“What is he doing?” he whispered.

Sunset just smiled as she shrugged, and waved his concerns away.

Before Draco could ask again, Ollivander came gliding back out into the store.

“Here we are,” he said, and presented Draco’s wand to him.

Wary, Draco took the wand again, and held it tight this time.

“What did you do?” he asked, barely holding back an accusatory tone.

Ollivander drew himself up to his full height and eyed Draco critically, nodding slightly to himself.

“Something that will aid you, if you let it.”

Draco eyed his wand, and felt its weight and texture.

“This… is my wand,” he said.

Ollivander nodded. “Hawthorn. Ten inches. Pliable… Unicorn hair.”

Sunset opened her magical senses, and felt her own signature in Draco’s wand.

She frowned a little as she considered this, but couldn't think of anything about the idea that would be detrimental to herself, so she simply nodded slowly.

“And My Lady’s wand is to her liking?” Ollivander said, turning to Sunset.

She nodded, and brought out the polished and gleaming wand, and held it up to eye level.

Ollivander nodded as he looked at the wand. “Wonderful. Wonderful. Good. Excellent. One could hardly hope for a better connection… unsurprisingly,” he noted, with some humour in his voice, and turned his eyes towards Sunset. “There are no improvements to be made here.”

“Then I suppose we should get moving,” Sunset said.

Ollivander smiled, and held the door open for them. “It has been my pleasure.”

Sunset nodded at him as they exited the store, and she and Draco set out to walk along the avenue again.

Draco still held his wand in his hand, and looked at it curiously.

“What happened back there?” he asked.

Sunset just shrugged. “Who knows? He’s not exactly the most forthcoming figure there is.”

“But you seemed to know what was happening.”

Sunset shook her head. She knew one thing which was happening, but she kept that to herself. “Not really. I just tried not looking confused.”

Draco shook his head, and put his wand away. “But what was that you gave him? And why did he like you so much?”

Sunset waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, just some materials from home I happened to have lying around. It’s common where I’m from, but he still appreciates it. And… well, when I first met him he said I reminded him of something, or someone. I didn’t ask him more than that.”

As he walked, Draco looked at Sunset for a long while.

“... I thought you…” he said, and trailed off.

“You thought what?”

“Uh, that you… actually, nevermind,” he said, and stared ahead. “So… you… like muggles then?”

Sunset shrugged. She knew Draco didn’t like muggles. She didn’t know exactly why, but it was clear that he didn’t like them. She could pander to him, she could challenge him, or she could simply give him the truth.

“I don’t know. I’ve met, like, two muggles I think. That’s not really enough to form an opinion.”

Draco tried masking a sigh of relief. “I see.”

“They were okay though. And muggles have some good entertainment.”

“Do they?” Draco asked, sceptically.

“Yeah. Wanna see?”

Draco looked at Sunset as if she was going to pull out something entertaining from her robe. “Where?”

Nodding towards the Leaky Cauldron, Sunset said, “Right over there.”

He gave her a confused look, and she held back an amused chuckle. “I’ll show you.”

They walked back through the wall to the backlot of the inn, through the dining hall, and out the doors to the mundane, muggle-populated London.

Draco looked back and forth, his eyes scanning the streets up and down.

“How many muggles are there in this city?” he asked, sceptically, and looking a little uncomfortable. “There must be thousands.”

Sunset had barely spent eighteen moons in this world, and already she was surprised at Draco’s knowledge, or lack of knowledge, of his world. “Quite a few thousand,” she said, and started walking down the street.

“Where are we going?” Draco asked, hurrying after her through the snow.

“I saw a cinema this way.”

“What’s a cinema?”

“It’s a… theatre-like arrangement, where you play back recordings of images, kinda like the pictures in the newspaper, or Lockhart’s books, but with sound.”

“How?” Draco asked, incredulous.

“Oh uh… you capture a series of images onto a sort of film in the shape of a reel, and project them onto a large screen,” Sunset explained.

“And that’s what muggles do for fun?” Draco said, stumbling over a lump of snow.

“Not just muggles. There were cinemas where I’m from too, and there were no muggles there.”

“No muggles?” Draco immediately asked.

“Nope,” Sunset confirmed.

“... Really?”

“Really. No one who can’t do magic in some form, and being magical is the default way of existing and I don’t know of any exceptions.”

“... Must’ve been nice,” Draco noted.

Sunset gave Draco a sideways look. “... What would quidditch be like if Pride of Portree was the only team there is?”

Draco looked confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just something to think about.”

Draco searched for something to say, when he suddenly stopped, and looked around.

“Who is that singing?”

Sunset looked at the record store they were standing next to, with music coming from the door that was held partially open by a doorstop.

“In there,” she said.

Draco narrowed his eyes and peered in through the glass.

“... I can’t see anyone singing.”

Sunset, who had been enjoying the song, said, “They have speakers in the ceiling.”

Draco turned to Sunset. “Why do they have that? How can muggles have that?”

Sunset shrugged. “They’re not magical, they’re machines.”

Draco stared, sceptical, through the window of the store for a few more moments, before moving on.

They moved on through some small streets of London, with several people they passed turning around and looking at them.

After a few more moments of walking, they reached the place that Sunset had in mind. Muggles were standing around, talking to each other and being sociable. Through a pair of double doors, a line was formed in front of a booth, where some bored people were selling tickets.

“This is what I was curious about, and these would be the feature showings,” she said, indicating the wall of posters.

Draco looked around himself, uncomfortable with the strange looks people were giving them, until he spotted one poster.

“This looks like the doorknob to the rear entrance of the west wing of our mansion,” Draco said, pointing at a poster with a very evil-looking stone carving of a face. “What’s it about?”

The title was a simple one, and Sunset had heard the name before, but had to wrack her brain before remembering the entry for it in her muggle encyclopaedia. “Oh, right. It’s a story about a vampire.”

Draco looked taken aback. “These people don’t know about vampires,” he said, drawing some strange look from people standing around outside the entrance.

“The ones who made this production do,” Sunset noted.

Draco looked at the poster, clearly curious, when a man standing next to them turned to face Draco.

“‘ere, you two from a theatre group then?”

Draco turned to the man, surprised, before his face contorted in annoyance. “I’m not a thespian, cretin! I’m an aristocrat!”

The man recoiled slightly, before he turned to Sunset instead. “Is tha’ method acting?”

Sunset shook her head. “No, but… think of it as if it were.”

The man nodded in understanding. “Roight, gotcha. Oi know a moon cadet when Oi sees one,” he said, and moved on with his friends.

“What did he mean by that?” Draco asked Sunset.

“Don’t worry. Think of it as a compliment.”

“... Right. Well, what do we do now?”

Waving her finger inside her cloak, Sunset weaved a simple illusion to make the two of them uninteresting to the muggles around them. “We go in and watch the movie,” she said, looking at the time tables. “We’re just in time.”

She led them past a sparse collection of muggles in winter clothes, and attendants of the cinema, towards the correct showing, magicing a container of popcorns into her hand as she did.

Inside the dark room, Sunset had to strengthen the illusion when Draco loudly asked, “Is that it?” regarding the silver screen on the far end.

“Yep. C’mon,” Sunset said, and led them up to some empty seat far up in the theatre.

They sat down, and Sunset surreptitiously weaved a temporary silencing spell around them, preventing anyone from hearing what they said.

“... Is anything supposed to happen?” Draco asked, impatiently.

“Yeah yeah,” Sunset said, placatingly, keeping her eyes on the screen. “It’s about to start.”

A soft, dark, oppressive rhythm rang through the theatre, and a large, exotic building, wreathed in smoke emanating from around it, appeared on the screen, before the symbol from the top of the building fell upon rocks, smashing it to bits.

Draco’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Sunset for some sort of confirmation that this impossibility was actually real, but Sunset was looking straight ahead, already soaking in what was happening.

Then a silken voice told the gathered onlookers what was happening.

“Is he the vampire?”

“Uh… don’t know yet,” Sunset mumbled.

They couldn’t discern any vampires yet. A prince kissed his bride goodbye, exited the holy place they were in, to be greeted by a cheering army, and the oppressing, tense music already reached a crescendo as a blood red night sky outlined the silhouettes of battle quickly devolving into a massacre.

Sunset felt it was a good thing it was mostly abstract, because she could practically hear Draco tensing up in his seat, his eyes in terror and gripping the arms of his seat until his already pale knuckles were completely white.

Sunset, meanwhile, hadn’t looked away for a minute, munching popcorns as the prince wept over the death of his bride that happened in his absence.

The holy man apparently said completely the wrong thing, and the prince raged.

Sunset read the translation on the bottom of the screen, and a delighted shiver ran down her spine. “Oooh…”

“This isn’t real, is it?” Draco nervously asked, as torrents of blood poured from the statues and candles of the temple.

Sunset slowly shook her head, eyes glued to the screen.

She thought that perhaps it spoke to her because she was a unicorn of Equestria. It hadn’t happened for a long time, but her people had met their share of dark lords.

Dracula was undead, and the civilizational memory of the undead, true undead, still haunted Equestria.

The subject of blood, however, piqued her curiosity.

Sunset kept munching on her popcorn as the movie progressed, with Draco tensing up any time something interesting happened.

The story moved to London, almost a hundred years before the time that Sunset and Draco were sitting there. Sunset thought it looked familiar. Draco didn’t notice the difference at all.

The presence of the undead vampire prince twisted the environment around him. It became the opposite of Sunset’s homeland. The environment dimmed, shadows grew long, the beasts became restless and violent, and a general malaise settled upon the land.

Sunset remembered the book she had read at Hogwarts, which told her that a unicorn’s blood curses the drinker.

The tradition of clothes was something Sunset had picked up on quickly, and when a recent vampire victim squirmed in her bed, she got a further hint of what would happen if she didn’t follow that tradition. Draco absolutely radiated an embarrassed heat at the sight of just a little skin. Sunset still didn’t understand what the big deal was, but humans apparently did.

It was several moments after Dracula had arrived in London, when the movie had lost some tension, when Draco managed to speak again. “V-vampires can’t do that, can they?”

Sunset only just managed to hold back a small laugh, as right now he reminded her of Neville.

“Don’t know,” she noted. “We have people who feed on blood where I’m from, but I’ve never met an undead one.”

Draco nodded, and tried steeling himself.

“Ooh, good idea,” Sunset mumbled to herself.

Both the dark prince, and his main hunter, was enthralling Sunset with their performances, and as the blood flowed like violent rivers, Sunset’s looked on in fascination, before she realised that Draco looked like he was about to faint.

“Too much for you?” she asked.

Draco tried and failed to look affronted, or defiant, or something. “N-no!” he insisted.

When Sunset held out the popcorn basket to him, he wordlessly declined.

Sunset couldn’t help but let out a short, “whoa,” to herself, as the vampire hunter carried the three decapitated heads of his enemy’s monstrous servant in his hands, and wondered if there were similar scenes when monsters were fought back home.

After the tale had concluded, Sunset walked out of the cinema with a slightly shaking Draco, who was eager to get back out into the sunlight again.

Sunset was quietly thinking to herself about the similarities between vampires, as depicted on this world, and Celestia, and wondered if there were any similarities, and if Celestia’s mere presence had an effect opposite to that of the ancient vampire lord.

“Well that was fun. Should we head back to school?” she asked.

“What!? Oh! Uh, yes… N-no, uhm… I was thinking that uhm… you might want to have dinner… at my home?”

Sunset surprised herself by not instinctively scrambling for excuses to decline.

Perhaps it was because Sunset hadn’t really spent much time with anyone for weeks. She talked a fair bit with Neville, and sometimes with Lavender and Parvati, but mostly in the dorms. Something kept people from talking with her, and Sunset wondered if it was the quiet ire that Ron had levelled at her, or if she had finally pushed people away.

Was she, Sunset Shimmer… lonely?

She strongly hoped not, but besides that, Draco was nobility, and the nobility likes to flaunt, often through magnanimousness and grace. To deny them a chance to do so could lead to such headaches, and Celestia wasn’t around to shield Sunset from that.

“Oh you are under no obligation to entertain me.”

“Uh… well, no but… I’m offering anyway.”

“In that case, thank you.”

There were a few moments of disbelieving joy on Draco’s face before he managed to get it under control, and instead looked pleased and dignified.

“Let’s go then.”

They walked back through the snow to The Leaky Cauldron, and Draco stepped through the fireplace first in order to show Sunset where they were meant to go.

Sunset followed Draco into the fireplace with a pinch of floo powder in her hands, and said, “Malfoy Manor!”

The green flames engulfed her, and she stepped out into the spacious vestibule of what was obviously a mansion.

Draco was standing a little to her side, looking gracious. “Welcome to my home,” he said.

“Thank you,” Sunset said, looking around.

The floor was polished marble covered in red and purple carpets, with a staircase leading up to an alcove which, just like the ground floor, had several doors leading into different wings of the building.

The walls were richly decorated, and lined with things like a finely crafted grandfather clock, paintings which were currently unoccupied or just depicting landscapes or other manors, and very old shields and swords.

The windows were largely covered by thick, expensive looking drapes, and the panes themselves were covered in frost, so that the daylight spilling in was very muted. The effect was further amplified by the fact that most of the material, such as the walls and railing, were woods like cherry and ebony, which ate a lot of the sunlight.

Sunset also noticed that, while old and expensive beyond anything she had seen on this world, except for Hogwarts, the old toughening enchantments on the objects were by now rather weak, and couldn’t keep the surfaces quite as pristine anymore.

Her attention shifted from the environment to a small, strange creature scurrying up towards them from behind the stairs. It was of the same general configuration as humans, with a face and the same number of limbs with fingers and toes on the end, but that was where the similarities ended.

For starters, it only barely reached her waist. Other than that, Sunset thought it looked like a mix between a bat and a tarsier. Oversized ears and enormous eyes, as well as looking slightly emaciated.

Walking around without clothes wasn’t something Sunset, a unicorn, normally raised her eyebrows at, but the creature was dressed in a pillowcase, with holes for the arms and head.

“Young Master!” it, or rather he, said in a squeaky voice, and Sunset felt he was trying to hide how nervous he was at this surprise, giving Sunset a fearful look before he turned to Draco again. “Young Master is home again, and with a guest.”

“Of course I’m home!” Draco barked at the small creature. “Now go–” Draco stopped himself and cast a very minute glance at Sunset “... go and tell father that we have a guest, Dobby.”

“Oh yes, sir! Dobby goes, sir!” the apparent Dobby said, sounding relieved, as he bowed and scurried off. “Master will be so pleased! Finally meeting his gue–”

Dobby stopped himself, and threw Draco and Sunset a scared look, before ducking into the room he was heading for.

Draco tensed up, and fought back a blush, before turning to Sunset.

“That was Dobby, our house elf,” he said, sounding important.

Sunset had only read very briefly about house elves from an old book which didn’t explain much, and had logged the term as a low priority topic.

“I see,” she said, neutrally, noting that Dobby was clearly a servant, and that Draco had neglected introducing her and Dobby to each other.

Instead of voicing this, she looked around at the decor.

Draco jumped on the chance to change the subject.

“Anyway, this is Malfoy Manor,” he said. “One of them anyway.”

An eyebrow of Sunset raised up. “One of them?”

“Yeah. We have a few summer houses, some other holdings. A mansion here and there. It caused a problem when Floo powder was invented, since ‘Malfoy Manor’ could mean so many places, so this is our only mansion with access to the floo network, to avoid confusion. It’s okay though. Some of them we hardly ever go to.”

“Oh really?” Sunset said.

“Yes. So… would you like a quick tour?” Draco offered.

A slight delay to Sunset’s response put Draco just slightly off-guard. “Yes please.”

He smiled, and invited her up the stairs.

They stepped into one wing of the mansion, just as dark and richly decorated as the vestibule, and Sunset could practically smell the very old, very vast wealth.

She tried comparing it to Canterlot Castle, but it didn’t lend it itself to that. The Malfoys clearly had very large piles of money lying around, and properties aplenty, while Celestia in many ways didn’t really need money. Celestia had money, of course, being not only the executive administrator of the state and naturally having learned a lot about the art of economics through her life, but one of the strongest aspects in the fabric of Equestrian society, and her nature as an immortal princess gave her more influence than the rich ponies who spent their money trying to accumulate influence ever could.

A noble pony trying to change something about society would spend wealth in an attempt to gain power and influence, such as putting on high society shindigs, and the best way to do so would be to host it at the castle, and when she had finally started to wrap her head around it, Sunset had realised that the one who gained the most influence was always Celestia herself, eclipsing the power that the noble who spent their money organising it at her castle gained.

But where Sunset admitted herself to always being outclassed was the fine manipulations during a ball or gala. Celestia always arranged things so that wealth flowed out towards the general populace, and the nobles, no matter their general dispositions, always left with smiles on their faces.

“... This is the long gallery,” Draco said, holding open a door and stepping into a, naturally, long room lined with portraits, cabinets, and glass display cases. The portraits all looked on passively at the pair, just like the portraits of previous headmasters at Hogwarts, and the cases held all manners of magic paraphernalia. From an old, grime-encrusted coin, to a ruby-adorned gold sceptre, to a pair of old glasses stained with blood which was somehow still red and wet, to some sort of bone that Sunset couldn’t place.

“Father’s collection goes back centuries, back to before the statute of secrecy,” Draco proudly supplied.

Sunset, meanwhile, could feel the magic radiating off the mementos, old enough to be treasures. Some seemed simple, if well-crafted, some of them Draco and his family probably couldn’t tell had faded long ago, and some, Sunset was sure, were outright sinister, but it was hard to say.

“Very impressive,” Sunset said, leaning forward to look at an impossibly thin wine glass as she struggled with making smalltalk. “Do you know how long it goes back?”

“Uhm, actually no,” Draco admitted. “It’s all in the family chronicles, but we can’t read the old ones, unless you happen to speak French?”

“... En fait, je pense que oui,” Sunset noted, who could speak with gryphon dignitaries from several territories in their native tongues.

“Very impressive,” a new voice said, and Draco and Sunset both turned to see someone whom Sunset had only seen fleetingly over a year ago.

Draco very much looked like a younger version of his father, having the same hair, style of clothing, and air of ever so slightly overdone superiority, but he did not have his father’s poised demeanour.

Sunset internally groaned as she rushed to remember how formal diplomacy worked. She didn’t know Lucius, but his posture and demeanour spoke volumes. Playing it off too modestly could be interpreted as demeaning if Lucius didn’t speak that language as well, so Sunset simply inclined her head slightly and calmly.

“Thank you, sir.”

He swept up to Draco and Sunset with somewhat long strides, and extended an arm, which Sunset reciprocated, and Lucius didn’t shake it, but simply gently took it in his own as he locked eyes with Sunset, putting on a look which told Sunset that he was only curious about her, but that if she was observant, she’d notice he was scrutinising her quite close.

“Welcome to our home,” he said. “I am Lucius Malfoy.”

“Sunset Shimmer. Thank you for having me,” Sunset responded without missing a beat.

Lucius smiled, and let go of Sunset’s hand, and instead put an arm around Draco’s shoulder.

“Hello, father,” Draco said, looking up at his father with a deep affection underneath that slightly stiff response.

“Welcome home, Draco. I hope school has been treating you well.”

“It has, and has offered additional excitement lately.”

“Mmm, you are of course referring to the tragic attacks?”

“Yes. They are quite the mystery,” Draco said, and looked at Sunset with… Sunset had trouble interpreting his look, but perhaps a knowing smile.

Lucius, however, did not share that expression. He just looked at Sunset with the same amount of polite standoffishness as before.

“Quite,” he said, and held out a hand invitingly to Sunset. “And now, dinner is ready. I hope you’ll join us, Miss Shimmer?”

“Thank you,” Sunset said, inclining her head, and followed the two similar figures out of the room.

Through the half-lit hardwood corridors, Lucius led them back to the entrance hall, and into another wing, to a large dining room, where a great, long table stood, adorned with silver candelabras, a silk tablecloth, and various other fineries.

From an entrance on the opposite form which Sunset had come from, the woman that Sunset had also seen briefly a year before entered, glancing back and waving her hand.

“And do have the dessert ready afterward, Dobby,” she said, and turned to see Sunset.

Doing a poor job of hiding a scrutinising look behind a neutral expression, she walked up to her son and put one arm around her, and he tried not to lean into her embrace.

“Hello, Draco dear,” she said.

“Hello, mother.”

“So, who is this you’ve brought for dinner?” she asked, again doing a poor job of expressing surprise.

“This is Sunset Shimmer from school, who I’ve… mm, anyway,” Draco said, interrupting himself. “Sunset, this is my mother.”

“Narcissa Malfoy. A pleasure,” she said.

“Sunset Shimmer. Charmed,” Sunset said, nodding her head while doing her best to convey the idea that she had just curtsied.

Narcissa nodded, and invited Sunset to take a seat at the long side of the table.

“Dobby!” Narcissa called out, and the small creature scurried out of the kitchen at breakneck speed, panting slightly as he did, and pulled out the chairs for them to sit down in.

Sunset’s eyes followed Dobby as she sat down, and he bowed before returning to the kitchen.

Lucius was seated at the short side, with his wife and son to either side, and Sunset seated beside Draco, and subtly arranged it so that she happened to sit a little bit further away from them than they were to each other.

Just as Sunset wondered who was going to strike up which kind of conversation, if any, Dobby came out of the kitchen with a plate with four small helping of soup and salad, and gracefully doled them out to the four people around the table.

“Thank you,” Sunset said, in a terse but curt manner, which Dobby smiled nervously at, and which Draco looked curiously back and forth between them.

As soon as Lucius started eating, so did Sunset. And it was a nice soup too, and the right season for warm appetisers.

“So…” Lucius said, after the soup was finished, and he was leisurely chewing on a piece of crisp salad. “Miss Shimmer, we have been introduced, and you have seen our house, parts of it at least. Will you reveal a bit about yourself?”

At this point, Dobby staggered out of the kitchen under the weight of a giant silver cloche, and Sunset took the time to prepare some answers as the little creature climbed a little stool to put the main course on the table.

He removed the lid to reveal some sort of cooked fowl surrounded by cooked tubers, before wordlessly bowing, and pausing for a short moment as if to make time for some sort of comment, but when none came, a tension lifted from him, and he hurried back into the kitchen.

Lucius and Narcissa both brought out their wands, and Lucius started with floating his plate up to the main course, and cutting a serving up to himself, while Narcissa did the same for herself and Draco.

After that, Lucius turned to look at Sunset, with a hint of a smug expression on his face, before noticing that at some point, someone, presumably Sunset, had done the same for her, with a slight focus on the plants.

He and Narcissa gave her a slightly suspicious look, before digging in.

“Now, where were we?” Lucius said, between bites. “Ah, yes, we were talking about you, Miss Shimmer.”

“We were in Diagon Alley earlier,” Draco eagerly supplied. “Ollivander called us into his store, and Sunset gave him some rare materials for his work.”

“Mm?” Narcissa said, inclining her head in what almost looked like polite interest at Sunset. “You have been travelling then?”

Sunset bobbed her head slightly as she thought. “In a sense.”

“From where?” Lucius asked.

“Oh, far away. I don’t really talk about it,” Sunset said, slightly apologetically.

“And your family is still there?” Lucius asked, and the slightly confused look that Draco gave him told Sunset he already knew the answer.

“No, they passed away,” Sunset said.

“Mmm, that is tragic,” Lucius said, and took a small sip of wine. “But you seem well-versed in the ways of magic.”

“Naturally. I grew up around it, and I was trained in it.”

Slight smirks grew on Lucius’ and Narcissa’s lips, before they hid it again.

“But I’m surprised,” Lucius said, conversationally. “You seem like a natural Slytherin student, and yet you are in Gryffindor house.”

“Thank you,” Sunset said, inclining her head towards him. “Though I don’t want to seem dismissive of local customs, the gravity of one’s school house might be in part lost to me.”

“No such tradition where you are from then?” Narcissa asked.

Sunset shook her head. “No.”

“There are no muggles where she’s from,” Draco said, watching his parents closely for their reaction.

Lucius and Narcissa cast a quick glance at each other. Lucius then reclined in his chair as he studied Sunset.

“... Interesting.”

“She never reveals where she’s from though,” Draco told his parents in a conversational tone, and shrugged, before turning to Sunset. “Hey, the book that writes back to you, is that where you’re from?”

That took Sunset slightly by surprise. She was so used to playing verbal cat and mouse that she wasn’t ready for such a straightforward question.

“Uh… as far as you know?”

Draco smirked, and looked at his parents, when he noticed that they were both absolutely still, staring intently at Sunset, Narcissa’s fork halfway to her mouth which was hanging open.

“Uh…” Draco started.

Lucius and Narcissa cast a glance at each other, before Lucius jerkily turned his head towards the kitchen. “D… Dobby!”

A second later, Dobby ran out of the kitchen and stopped in front Lucius, bowing deeply. “M-master?”

“How is…” he said, trying not to speak through gritted teeth. “... the… dessert coming along?”

“A-almost ready, master! Nearly done!” Dobby said, bowing low again.

“Good… good. S… see that it’s ready on time,” Lucius said, distracted, and waved Dobby away again.

“Yes, master! At once, master!” Dobby said, and bowed again before running back into the kitchen.

Lucius took a deep breath, and turned back to the table, seeing Draco staring at him with wide eyes.

“What… book is that?” he said, very obviously trying to sound politely curious.

Not at all sure what to make of that reaction, Sunset pulled out her and Celestia's connected book from her bag under the chair, and held it up for them to see.

Lucius and Narcissa looked like they put a gargantuan effort into not showing how relieved they were at the sight.

“... Fascinating,” Lucius said, smiling politely at Sunset and Malfoy. “... I, myself, am quite the collector of magic. Magical items, in fact. But you knew that already. Draco was showing you part of my collection earlier.”

Sunset felt it was best to move on from the display moment earlier, and put her book away again. “Yes, I didn’t get a close look, but it seemed… extensive.”

“Mmm, I cannot take full credit, of course,” Lucius continued in a conversational tone. “I inherited a large part of it.”

At this point, Dobby came out of the kitchen, wobbling slightly less from the lighter burden than the earlier ones, and climbed up on his little stool to place the dessert on the table. Some sort of crème brûlée, but with extra everything, artistically arranged.

“Thank you,” Sunset said shortly to Dobby (she was the only one to do so) who bowed deeply at her after staring in surprise for a moment, before bowing deeply and scurrying back into the kitchen.

“Are you heading back to Hogwarts later, Draco?” Narcissa asked.

“Mhm,” Draco nodded, mouth full of dessert.

“No need to leave just yet. Perhaps Sunset would like another look around?”

Having been educated by Princess Celestia, and indeed partly raised by her, Sunset had practice, training, and experience with social grace.

She just didn’t have much of a talent in it.

An excuse to leave soon would be welcome, as the pressure of being a guest of the aristocracy could be intense.

Even so, she gambled that resisting their grace within the limits of politeness could just draw things out, so she simply braced herself and looked politely expectant.

“Do you wanna see my room?” Draco said, before realising something. “Or perhaps the library?”

“I’m always willing to learn things,” Sunset said, relieved.

After the three course meal, Sunset and Draco went back to the central hall, when suddenly Dobby ran up behind them.

“What, Dobby?” Draco asked, anger and annoyance on his face.

Dobby recoiled, and turned to Sunset. “D-Dobby apologises, but… Dobby did not offer to… care for… the young mistress’ luggage,” he said, and looked up at her with a wretched expression.

Sunset looked down at her shoulder bag. Normally. she would be unwilling to surrender it, but something about Dobby’s pitiful demeanour made her relent.

It would do no good to deny Dobby a chance to look good in front of his master by turning his help down, or depositing it somewhere herself, so she quickly cast a quick charm to lighten the weight on it further, and held it out to the house elf.

“Thank you, Dobby,” she said, and Dobby quickly took the bag in his arms and bowed again, before hurrying back to where he came from.

“Normally he’s much more thorough,” Draco said, disapprovingly, before they continued on.

The Malfoys’ library was as big as the publicly accessible part of Hogwarts’ library. The difference was the welcome absence of Madam Pince, and fewer large tables for study, instead having more things like desks and lecterns.

It was also as dark as the rest of the Malfoys’ manor, with ebony bookshelves, populated with books bound in dark leather.

“Father has quite the collection of books as well. Bet you haven’t seen a library this impressive privately owned, have you?” Draco asked.

“That’s true, I haven’t,” Sunset lied, taking in the sight and pretending to be more impressed than she was.

“The ministry has many laws restricting what kind of artefacts that can be privately owned, but it’s not as strict when it comes to books.”

Sunset turned to see Draco having a smug look on his face, when she noticed something on the wall behind him.

“What’s that?” she asked.

Draco turned to see an old, large map on the wall, behind a wheeled board covered in dusty old papers.

“Oh, that. That’s just a map of Malfoy holdings,” he said, a little dismissively.

Curious, Sunset walked up and studied it.

It was a yellowed old paper, large enough to cover a school blackboard, showing the entire British Isles, with little illustrations representing the larger cities, as well as a dozen or so little pictures of castles and mansions.

“That’s our summer house,” Draco said, pointing to one near the coast. “That one is a castle which we mostly use to store furniture in. That one might be destroyed, I’m not sure. That one actually used to be the seat of the family long ago. I’ve never been there myself though. That one is lent to the ministry until further notice. I’ve never been there either.”

Sunset nodded at Draco’s words, while focusing on memorising the locations of the little illustrations on the map.

“And that one…” Draco said, stopping to think.

“... Is also empty,” Narcissa finished for him, standing behind them. “Your great uncle lived there, working on potions.”

“Oh right,” Draco said, having turned around to see his mother. “I’ve never been there either, I think.”

“No. We send Dobby to check in every now and then, but the enchantments keep it fresh. It’s a smaller house, but quite livable. He made a good living, being a potions master. The talent must run in the family,” Narcissa noted, smiling at Draco. “Professor Snape tells us you have quite the head for potions as well.”

Draco gave a proud smile, turning to Sunset, who had to nod in agreement. Snape constantly praised Draco’s works in front of the class. While the praise probably helped give Draco the confidence to do well, Sunset figured that there was underlying talent to back it up.

“Sunset also does well in potions,” Draco offered. “Though Professor Snape, uhm…”

“Keeps any praise to himself, and just as well,” Sunset finished.

Narcissa looked amused. “It is a good idea to have friendly relations with the faculty of Hogwarts, especially if the roles were to be switched around at any point. One never knows how long Dumbledore stays headmaster, for instance. A friendly letter to Professor Snape could… help him see you in a new light.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Sunset said.

“Such self-sufficiency,” Narcissa noted. “You would do well to accept the occasional gift.”

“That could be a dangerous topic for my standing,” Sunset pointed out. “I arrived here with no token of appreciation for the hospitality.”

Narcissa looked mildly impressed. “Then perhaps we should turn to other traditions? If boons are mere gestures, perhaps… accepting something to serve as a reminder of your visit to our house?”

Sunset was about to nod in a graceful manner, when Draco suddenly smiled, grabbed her sleeve, and pulled her with him. “Great! You can have my favourite broom!”

Thankfully, Draco’s room was in the same wing as the library, so the awkward pulling didn’t last very long. Draco pulled Sunset into a large room, just as richly decorated as the rest of the house, but with comics and other light, and magical, reading stacked carefully on the nightside table, as well as a large, interactive quidditch game. Sunset strongly suspected that it was Dobby who kept the room tidy.

“Here,” Draco said, opening his closet and pulling out a broom. It was far more fancy than the rickety old thing that Sunset had gotten her limited practice on at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t quite Harry’s Nimbus Two Thousand either. He held it out for Sunset. “It’s not a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, but it’s still a Comet Two-Ninety.”

Sunset waited for a short moment before accepting it. “Thank you.”

“I could give you some pointers on how to fly,” Draco said, as they walked out to the grand entrance hall.

“In winter?” Sunset gently deflected.

“Okay, maybe not,” Draco admitted.

In the hall, Lucius and Narcissa were waiting for them. Lucius put his arm around Draco again, and Narcissa hugged him, and handed him a big paper bag which Sunset could sense the scent of sweets and candies coming off of.

“Have a good time in school. Write to us,” Narcissa said.

“Yes, yes,” Draco said, and disengaged, embarrassed.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Sunset said, nodding towards Lucius.

“Our pleasure,” he said, and looked around for a moment, before snapping his fingers with an annoyed look on his face.

From a corner, Dobby scurried up, and bowed in front of Sunset while offering her bag.

“Thank you,” she said, curtly.

Dobby’s eyes lingered on Sunset for a moment, as if wanting to say something, but instead he looked back at Lucius, who gave Dobby a stern look, making him scurry off again.

“Well, come on,” Draco said, and moved into the fireplace with a fistfull of floo powder. “Hogwarts, third floor.”

A moment later, Sunset followed him, and they stepped out into the same mostly unused room.

“Well, that was fun,” Draco said, as they walked back out into the corridor, Sunset having her new broom over her shoulder.

“It was,” Sunset said, not sure if she was lying or not, though she could feel the relief of soon being able to be alone.

As they reached the part of the corridor where they’d separate to reach each others’ common rooms, Draco stopped, and searched for words.

“Well I, uh… I… had fun…”

Sunset kept herself from pointing out that he had already said that.

“Mhm,” Sunset said, desperately searching for something polite to say. “Thank you for the broom.”

Draco’s face lit up in relief. “Oh, yeah, no problem. I, uh… should see if those two have turned up yet.”

“Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around,” Draco said, and half-turned around while taking a step back.

“Yep, see you later,” Sunset said, and turned around herself.

As she rounded a corner, she let out a sigh, and paused to look out at the white, snow-covered landscape while enjoying the silence.

Sunset thought about Draco’s parents. She thought there was something strange about their behaviour, but then again, Sunset thought so about most witches and wizards, and Draco Malfoy especially. It would make sense if his parents were strange in similar ways.

Dobby had also been the first house elf Sunset had seen, and she didn’t know if he was being treated poorly, or if he smelled scared because he was just always nervous, like Neville, or if Sunset’s presence had broken his routine and he didn’t like that.

That sudden tension from Lucius and Narcissa around the dinner table was also strange, but before Sunset could think too hard on that, something broke her out of her pondering.

“MISS SHIMMER!” Professor McGonagall yelled angrily, making Sunset jump.

Her head of house stomped up towards her from the end of the hallway. “Where have you been!?”

Sunset took a moment to calm herself, a little peeved at McGonagall seemingly trying to give her a heart attack.

This was, admittedly, not a good look, at least not for anyone who cared about school rules, as Sunset had been gone for several hours, and she didn’t know how long McGonagall had been searching for her. Besides, a broom that Sunset didn’t previously own was resting on her shoulder.

Sunset hummed as she pondered on how best to answer this.

“Getting some fresh air,” she finally said.

McGonagall stopped in front of her, looking down what little difference in height there was between them. “Did you leave the school grounds, Miss Shimmer?” she asked, sharply.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” Sunset calmly asked.

McGonagall puffed herself up. “That attitude is most unbecoming, Miss Shimmer, and unless you provide me with a good explanation regarding your whereabouts, I shall put you in detention.”

Sunset narrowed her eyes, slightly. “I get the feeling that it won’t matter much what I say.”

McGonagall was already matching Sunset’s expression, but narrowed her eyes further. “Twenty points from Gryffindor, and you are to report to me tomorrow evening for you detention assignment.”

Sunset stared at her ostensible teacher for a drawn out moment, before speaking calmly again. “Then if there is nothing else,” she said, and turned on her heel and walked back to the Gryffindor common room.

Lucius Malfoy sat behind his desk in his study, deeply focused on his task of putting the stack of torn out, blank pages in a new leather binding.

The relief when Dobby had entered with the girl’s bag as ordered, and Lucius had retrieved the tome from inside it, had been absolutely immense.

It hadn’t been the book that Lucius had been so worried about, but Draco’s words had left him too intrigued not to investigate.

Looking inside had revealed many pages covered in arcane signs that he had no knowledge of, but the different styles, sizes, and colours of the letters hinted that, just as Draco said, whoever wrote in the book wasn’t just writing for themselves. Draco claimed the girl was skilled in magic, and she was communicating with someone, or something.

The writing was not English, but the girls spoke English, and so it was a reasonable assumption that whatever was in the book could communicate in English as well.

Lucius had gotten confirmation that the book was magical when he had carefully but quickly cut out a fistful of the deceptively large amount of pages from near the end of the book, where the pages were blank, and the book had reconstituted itself, removing any hint of damage, though leaving Lucius with a collection of magical pages in his hand.

With some careful spellwork, the pages were bound in protective leather, and multiplied right before his very eyes until it was the size of a proper tome.

Intrigued, Lucius opened the book, and studied in closely for several minutes, before he picked up a quill, dipped the top of it in an inkwell, and put it to the first, blank page.

On another plane of existence, Princess Celestia walked up to the glowing book, and opened it.

But it wasn’t where she had left off writing to Sunset where words were forming.

Mildly confused, she rapidly flipped the pages until she reached the glowing one, and raised her eyebrow at the words forming.

I, Lucius Malfoy, of the esteemed and highborn house of Malfoy, demand that you reveal your secrets.

“Oh do you now?”