• Published 23rd Apr 2017
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Magic School Days - Dogger807

When the CMC asked Discord to help them attend magic school, he pulled an owl out of his hat. Only he didn't exactly have a hat. Which was okay, since their new school had a singing one laying around. Where the hay was Hogwarts anyway?

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Chapter 10: Plotting Along

The next class of the day turned out to be Charms. This time around, they had been grouped with the yellow-trimmed students, Hufflepuffs. The boys were already seated by the time the Gryffindor girls made an appearance, and, unlike Potions with the Slytherins, there were no signs of hostility as the seats were filled.

Scanning the room, Ginny frowned as she noticed her brother had taken up residence next to Harry. Disgruntled that her first choice had been removed, she decided to sit up front, next to Hermione.

When class started, the smallest human stallion they had yet seen entered and called for the students to quiet down. Apple Bloom remembered seeing him sitting at the head table with the rest of the teachers, so he wasn’t too much of a surprise. The small stallion had a distinctive quality about him. Though he was obviously fully grown, he was smaller even than the girls' human forms. If somepony were to ask her, she’d say he was more on the scale of a goblin than a human.

“Good afternoon, class,” he said as, with a flick of his wand, he stacked together a couple of large books and casually stood on them. Apple Bloom was taken aback by the improvised stool. She knew that if Twilight had been present, the mare would be throwing a fit. “Welcome to First-Year Charms. My name is Professor Flitwick.” The small stallion concluded his introduction.

The diminutive professor then swiftly took roll, interrupting the process only when he fell off his perch in shock upon reaching Harry’s name. With formalities soon out of the way, he introduced the students to the concept of proper wand gestures. The class was enthralled by his enthusiasm and good humor, making the experience both fun and exciting. Well, not as exciting as Potions had been, but there was a lot of actual learning going on.

Halfway through the period, Sweetie Belle stopped to closely examine her wand. This was the first time she had really tried using it since she had purchased it. The only real use had been manipulating her trunk; otherwise, it had stayed in her holster.

The more she handled it, the more she became aware of how, to her magic, it felt like her own horn. Only, at the same time, it felt completely and utterly unlike her horn. The sensation was oddly wonderful, in an altogether mundane sort of way. Contemplating the piece of wood, Sweetie Belle had no idea what to make of it.


A single pony trotted down the streets of Ponyville, sharing greetings with those she passed. One glance would show that she had an immaculate white coat, which complemented her pale pink mane pleasantly. To say the least, Nurse Redheart’s day had be interesting; she had spent the morning playing an invigorating game of “Drug the Element Bearer.” Without exception, all six of them had pushed themselves well past normal pony limits, and were on the road to serious self-inflicted harm. Backed by the mayor’s approval, it was Nurse Redheart’s job to intervene. It was a job that she was good at, so much so that she was currently five for six.

Unsurprisingly, Rainbow Dash had been the first to fall. The cyan pony had been requesting that more and more coffee be brought to her, to aid her in her watch. Consequently, it had been a simple thing to replace her latest batch with decaf, plus an additive that “encouraged” nap time. One mug later and snores could be heard plainly, even by the ponies on the ground.

Applejack had been next on the list, she and her brother, both. Each of the siblings had been undertaking solo forays into the forest, insisting that they did not want to be slowed by escorts. Luckily, they had to come out periodically for updates and, hopefully, news pertaining to the safe return of the fillies. During their infrequent check-ins, they would wolf down whatever food that anypony happened to present to them. Again, it had been simple to add a little extra to their most recent meals. The only hiccup to her plan came when Redheart had done her best to delay their return to the forest. She didn’t want them to end up taking their naps in the forest proper. The result was for Apple Jack to regard Redheart with suspicion. The apple farmer had bluntly asked the nurse if she was attempting to drug the two of them or something.

To this Redheart had pleasantly responded, “No, why would I do something like that?”

Of course, lying to the Element of Honesty had been an effort in futility, no matter how tired that element might been. At the same time, it didn’t matter, as it was too late, and the sleeping agent was already working its magic. Smirking to herself, Redheart had needed the help of four of the guard ponies to move the siblings off to their respective beds.

Twilight had been as easy as Rainbow Dash. Even though she was assuredly the smartest pony around, she was prone to routine -- a few drops in the tea Spike had been about to serve to her and she was out cold. Little more effort was required to tuck her into her own bed.

Thankfully, Fluttershy was always the type to avoid conflict when possible. So, when Nurse Redheart had asked her to open wide and say “ah”, Fluttershy had done as she had been asked. Without any fuss, Redheart had administered the drug directly, and Fluttershy was soon fast asleep.

Pinkie had been. . . well, Pinkie had been Pinkie. It was almost comical how many near misses Redheart had been forced to endure before managing to score a hit. Someday, in the distant future, she would look back on the experience and laugh, but, for now, the pink party pony was prostrated and plopped on a prepared portable pallet, proving positively precious.

All that was left was Rarity. Luckily, she had already been implored by the mayor to go home and get some rest. She had given in to the argument that to do otherwise would only hinder the search. The lack of sleep was significantly slowing down her efforts at that point. The mare, with her ears drooping and her tail dragging, had complied. As it now stood, Redheart was on her way to Rarity’s place to ensure sleep was achieved.

Upon her arrival, Nurse Redheart knocked politely on the Carousel Boutique’s entrance. When she received no reply, she entered anyway. It did not take her long to locate her patient laid out on the couch. One look at the poor mare showed the rise and fall of her barrel, denoting deep slumber. Humming to herself, Redheart retrieved a stethoscope from her saddle bag, happy that it looked like drugs were not going to be needed here.

Ignoring the filth covering the normally pristine pony, Redheart checked for proper breathing and heart rhythm. In the process, she noticed a half-crumpled letter resting under Rarity’s chin. The poor dear must have fallen asleep reading. It wasn’t curiosity that compelled Redheart to retrieve the letter. As a medical professional, she knew Rarity was in a very fragile state. As such, the introduction of bad, or even good, news could be extremely overwhelming for the mare.

A quick read through of the letter proved that it needed to be brought to the attention of Mayor Mare as quickly as possible. Hopefully, a happy conclusion was on the horizon. The one setback being, Redheart had to confirm the letter was new, and not memorabilia from happier times. She gently prodded Rarity with her hoof, hating that she had to wake her patient.

Slowly, Rarity’s eyes fluttered open as Redheart prodded her with increasing vigor. The fashionista fixed her distressed gaze on the nurse, “Was it real? Did I dream it?” She begged, “Tell me! Did an owl really deliver a letter from Sweetie Belle?”

Nodding her head comfortingly, Nurse Redheart said, “Yes dear, it was real. Now I need you to open up and say ‘Aaaah’.”

Rarity did as she was told, and soon Redheart left the establishment, six for six.


Alice sat at her desk and studied the book left for her by the stranger. He had done more than just provide the tome; he had told her exactly where to look. He even suggested to her the best things to say and helped come up with compelling counter arguments she would not otherwise have thought of. His help had been invaluable.

With nary a sound, Alice read with the intensity of a Ravenclaw, only stopping to occasionally daydream of the chaos she was preparing to unleash upon those who had wronged her. She knew justice would be had.


After Charms, they had a free period, effectively freeing them for the weekend, the one exception being twelve inches on the most commonly used wand motions.

“So?” Apple Bloom asked as the first-year collective gathered up their things in preparation of leaving class. “Any ideas on something exciting to do now?”

“How about we go find the library!” Hermione immediately suggested.

“She did say ‘exciting’.” Ron vetoed the idea, then, to no one’s surprise suggested, “We could play Quidditch, there’s plenty of light left.”

Scootaloo shook her head with regret. “We don’t have access to the brooms until after the twins and Percy finish their classes.”

“Brooms? First-years aren’t allowed to own brooms!” Hermione was scandalized by the very notion of breaking the rules and somehow sneaking a broom on campus.

“But we can borrow them from upperclassmen,” Ginny grinned wickedly as she explained to Hermione, “and upper years can own more than one.”

“That’s . . . that’s . . .” Hermione did her best to wrap her mind around the concept. “Cheating!”

“Nah,” Apple Bloom corrected, “it’s just creative rule-following.”

In the front of the class, Professor Flitwick suddenly snapped his fingers, remembering something important. “Miss Aloo, Miss Belle, and Miss Bloom, if you could please stay after class.” His declaration received curious looks from the rest of the class as they filed out and left the three named victims behind.

“Yes, Professor?” Sweetie Belle said hesitantly, afraid that she was about to get in even more trouble for the potions incident.

“No need to be nervous,” Professor Flitwick said comfortingly as he made his way over to the three girls. “Due to your circumstances, Professor McGonagall has asked me to see you to the clinic after class. While we expect no trouble, it wouldn’t hurt for Madam Pomfrey to have some baseline readings, just in case. Please follow me.”

The three fillies just nodded in acceptance and followed the professor out of the classroom. After several flights of stairs and some twists and turns, they arrived at the infirmary. Like all its kind, it smelled faintly of disinfectant and favored the white coloring that was so common within the healing profession. Inside, they were greeted by an older human mare.

“Madam Pomfrey,” Professor Flitwick greeted, “I have brought your afternoon appointment.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled as, all the while, she studied the children accompanying him. “Thank you, Professor.” Then, turning her focus to the girls, she continued, “Professor McGonagall has asked me to give you each a once-over, to confirm your health, just a precautionary measure.” She then patted an examining table. “So, who would like to go first?”

Suddenly, Scootaloo stumbled forward as a certain redhead looked at the ceiling and whistled. Scootaloo scowled at Apple Bloom for a second then, in defeat, said, “I guess that would be me.”

Madam Pomfrey shortly had the girl on the exam table and was scanning Scootaloo’s body using her wand. Frowning slightly, she made notes on a clipboard and then went back to examination. As she scanned, the look of worry increased on her face. With obvious frustration, she put her wand away and said, “A trip to St. Mungo’s may be in order, Professor Flitwick. There are a few unusual readings that don’t make sense.”

Professor Flitwick actually chuckled at the suggestion. “Before we resort to that,” he said, before turning to the table. “Miss Aloo, if you would please remove your necklace for Madam Pomfrey?”

With her mouth half open, Madam Pomfrey stared for a full minute, then said, “She is rather cute, isn’t she.”

Professor Flitwick studied his student then concurred, “Very much so.”

“That’s an awfully bright shade of orange,” Madam Pomfrey observed.

Scootaloo looked at her own coat and said, “I’ve always thought it suited me just fine.”

At a loss on what to say in response, Madam Pomfrey once more scanned her patient. This time, she stopped, her wand hovering over the little filly’s wings. “Are your wings the normal size for a child your age?”

Scootaloo promptly took on the attitude of a kicked dog, holding back tears as she shook her head silently.

“I see.” Madam Pomfrey patted her on the head. “That does explain the readings from earlier. I am truly sorry; I had to bring it up.”

“It’s all right,” Scootaloo sniffed. “I’m used to it.”

“It’s obviously not all right,” Madam Pomfrey firmly corrected. “We shall talk of this later, once I’ve gone over my readings.”

Scootaloo nodded her head and hopped off the table, her hooves clicking on the tile as she went to stand by her friends, both of whom sank to their knees and administered hugs.

Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick somberly watched the scene, neither wanting to disrupt the show of support.

After a reasonable span of time passed, Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat and said, “Miss Bloom, was it? I do believe you volunteered to be next.”

Hanging her head slightly, Apple Bloom mounted the table.

Once again, Madam Pomfrey scanned her patient, her wand glowing slightly as it moved. Eventually she nodded her head in satisfaction and made more notes on her clipboard. “Now remove your necklace please.”

There was less of a pause this time. “No wings on you?”

“No ma’am.” Apple Bloom shook her head, her bow swaying behind her head. “I’m an earth pony.”

"I see.” Madam Pomfrey smiled. “And a healthy earth pony you are indeed.”

“I’m an Apple,” Apple Bloom said smugly.

“I thought you said you were an earth pony,” Madam Pomfrey joked as she began probing Apple Bloom’s little yellow form.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo giggled at their embarrassed friend.

“And last, but not least, Miss Belle,” Madam Pomfrey said upon finishing up with Apple Bloom.

After hopping onto the table, Sweetie Belle was subjected to a once-over as well. The survey caused Madam Pomfrey’s mouth to form a small frown as she made notes. Obviously, there were readings she wasn’t happy with. “And now your necklace.” She commanded.

This time, Madam Pomfrey barley blinked at the change. “You’re a unicorn?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sweetie Belle nodded her head in confirmation.

“That would explain the readings I received earlier.” Madam Pomfrey also nodded her head, losing the frown. “Although, you do have many notable differences from a normal unicorn, I should have surmised as much before your transformation.” She made more notes on her clipboard. “One such difference is your blood.”

"My blood?” Sweetie Belle looked up at the witch studying her.

“Yes, the unicorns normally found in the forest, for instance, have blood of a much more mystical nature than yours. But, that is neither here nor there. Your tests show that you are quite healthy at this point in time.”

Seemingly satisfied with the information recorded, Pomfrey returned the necklaces to the little ponies. With a critical eye, she watched them take on human form. “If you find you're having any difficulties maintaining your change, or have any -- and I do mean any -- pain or discomfort, you are to come to me immediately. There shall be no ‘but I didn’t want to bother you’ nonsense.”

The girls all nodded their heads obediently.

“Now go and enjoy your weekend.” Pomfrey fixed them with one more smile before they scampered out the infirmary door.

After the girls had left, Madam Pomfrey turned to Professor Flitwick and raised one eyebrow. She plainly wanted an explanation.


“At least we know they aren’t lost in the Everfree,” Mayor Mare said to the lieutenant in charge of the search team as she shuffled some paperwork on her desk. “You may recall your scouts and stand down.”

“Has anypony informed the Elements of this discovery?” the large sturdy grey stallion, known as Dragnet, inquired.

“Rarity knows; the others will be told once they get some sleep.” Mayor Mare sighed. “Meanwhile, a letter has been sent to the princesses updating them on the situation.” After peering at a paper on her desk she added, “No owl was found at Rarity’s, so at this point, we do not know if she sent a reply or not.”

Dragnet ran a hoof under his chin thoughtfully. “As you said, at least we now know they are not lost in the Everfree.”


That night, after supper, Lavender, Parvati, Hermione, and Sweetie Belle were poring over the trunk catalog while the rest of the first-years were having a go at playing exploding snaps. It was noticeable that none of them were especially skilled at the game. This explained why Ron’s hair was making a valiant effort to change from red to black, and why Harry was missing half of an eyebrow. Additionally, somewhere between the second and fifth round, Apple Bloom’s ribbon had fallen in battle, and Dean was currently sporting a face covered in soot. All in all, it was good clean fun, only without the clean.

Without warning, the Weasley twins integrated themselves into the gathering.

“It was rather peculiar,” one of them started.

“. . . to see how far behind in points, we are . . .”

“. . . compared to the rest of the houses.”

“Would any of you happen to know . . .”

“. . . how this came to be?”

All the first-years went still and remained quiet, not one of them wanting to be the one to share the news.

“It would appear, dear brother,” maybe George said.

“That we have indeed found the source of the anomaly,” the other agreed.

Then, as one, they turned to the first-years and sternly said, “Spill it.”

Lavender was the girl who decided that they’d find out anyway. “Professor Snape was just angry because Neville and Sweetie Belle sicced their pet potion on the Slytherins.”

The twins shared another glance. “They did now?”

“So that’s why . . .”

“. . . the greatest loss of points . . .”

“. . . on the first day of classes . . .”

“. . . was achieved by first-years?”

“Actually, back in 1765, Taurus Black lost 215 points on his first day, so these two were nowhere near the record at fifty each,” a female voice enlightened everyone in earshot.

Everybody in the common room, who had already been listening to the twins, turned their attention to a certain bushy-haired girl.

“What?” Hermione said, shuffling slightly and hiding her hands behind her back. “It’s in ‘Hogwarts a History’.”

Everyone continued to stare at her.

Hermione stamped her foot and put her hands on her hips. “You didn’t think I wasn’t going to look that up, did you?”

“Right then,” one of the twins, let’s call him George for the time being, said, “so the second largest.”

“Yentl Singh, 1846.” Hermione shook her head.

“Okay, let’s skip the countdown.” George grinned at the interruption

“What place did they manage?” Fred finished for him.

“27th,” Hermione promptly answered.

“Okay.” Fred rubbed his hands together. “When you put it that way . . .”

“. . . it doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You two just need to work harder . . .”

“. . . if you want to break records.”

“But we want . . .”

“. . . details.”


Applejack snorted herself awake. One second she was asleep, the next she sat bolt upright, her mind sharper than any drug-addled mind had any right to be. Distressed, she saw that they had let her sleep the whole day away -- the whole bucking day. She knew why they had done it, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to forgive them.

Without a word, she leapt from her bed, grabbed her hat, and raced down the stairs. There, waiting in the family room, was Granny, rocking peacefully in her chair. The ancient mare didn’t even look up as she said, “Slow down thar; the youngun’s are safe.”

Applejack skidded to a halt, relief filling her every fiber. She turned to her elder, with a look of joy and expectation on her face.


The early evening was still comfortable this time of year, just perfect for sitting at one of the café’s outdoor tables. This was where Mayor Mare found herself. A meal of stewed tomatoes over hay noodles lay before her, with its tantalizing aromas.

She was just taking a sip of her milk when her ears pivoted to catch a sound. It was just on the edge of her hearing, but she had plainly heard a pony scream. They had screamed one easily recognizable word. That word had been, “School?!”

It appeared Nurse Redheart had been correct in her estimates, the mayor mused as she reached for her dinner. Applejack had been the first to awaken.


It hungered. For too long had it gone without nourishment. It needed to feed, and it needed to feed now!

From the shadows, it could sense prey up ahead. It could practically hear the victim’s blood calling from the very veins through which it flowed.

Soon, the hunter would be sated. Soon it would have its fill. As silently as it could manage, it snuck up behind the prey and pounced.

There was a scream and some scrambling; then, the excitement was over as suddenly as it had started.

A female’s voice could be heard to say, “What in the name of Merlin was that!”

“I don’t know,” her companion, a male, replied, “but it bit me on the ankle, it did.”

The hunter retreated from the site of a successful ambush, enjoying the few drops of blood that were its prize.


For the second night in a row, Hermione sat in hot water, surrounded by, dare she hope it, new friends. Lazily, she soaked in the warmth as the conditioner worked its wonders. Thinking back to the trunk catalog she asked, “So these are standard six compartment luxury trunks, right?”

“I guess so,” Sweetie Belle replied, only her neck and head above the water line.

“So, does that mean your sixth compartment is set up to house a potions lab?” Hermione’s curiosity came to the forefront.

Silence met this question for a few seconds until Apple Bloom said, “Let me see if Ah got this straight. Sweetie Belle owns a kitchen an’ a potions lab?”

Scootaloo groaned and let her head sink below the water.

“Hey!” Sweetie Belle squeaked as the rest of the first-year Gryffindor girls looked on with varying degrees of horror, “I’m not that bad.”



This time the word came from the direction of the library. It looked like Twilight had returned to consciousness.


As curfew approached, Gale and Euan entered the Hufflepuff common room, both looked a little frazzled.

With a loud whistle, Euan called for everyone’s attention and announced, “Be careful out in the hallways; there’s something out there. It’s small and very fast”

“Yeah,” Gale agreed, “it was a regular Speedy Gonzales.”

One of the occupants of the common room, another muggle-born, asked the obvious question, “What, did you see a mouse?”


‘All Ah’m saying, is please have one of us with you ifn’ you go cooking or making potions.” Apple Bloom reiterated, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and we’re all more than willing to help you learn.”

“Actually,” Hermione agreed, “I wouldn’t mind learning to cook myself. The best I can do now is burn toast.”

“That’s nothing,” Scootaloo said, patting herself dry with another fluffy towel, “Sweetie Belle has been known to serve toast in a glass, so it wouldn’t leak off the plate.”

“At least it wasn’t burnt,” Sweetie Belle protested.

Ginny wisely took a step away from her.



Ah, that would be Rainbow Dash. Idly, the mayor wondered if she would be able to hear Fluttershy, or if she should just assume the pegasus was on her way.


Wand brandished, Snape rounded a corner and beheld four sixth-year Ravenclaw students standing around looking wide-eyed, “Have you seen . . .” he started, but stopped as they all raised a hand and pointed down the hallway.

Professor Snape nodded and rushed in the indicated direction.



And there was Pinkie’s input. The mayor used a napkin to wipe the sauce off her muzzle. Having just finished her meal, she knew now was the time to explain just how much they didn’t know. Rising and leaving a tip, she headed back to her office.


This time, it was Lavender who was first into the bed, a long day coming to an end. Soon, when Scootaloo, the next girl in line, was close enough, Lavender snuggled up to her. She didn’t even stop to ponder how, in just one day, the thought of sleeping with others had become commonplace.


Everywhere, notes covered the table, interspersed were the remains of small snacks. Tirelessly, Alice reviewed what she had written down and checked it against the open book before her. She was going to make sure this was perfect, because if she failed, she wouldn’t get a second chance, not with the opposition she was guaranteed to rouse. This was going to be all that she had hoped for, and more. Ever since she was old enough to understand, this had been her goal. Yet, never before had it been even remotely attainable, but change had come.

The knowledge had been hidden, purposefully hidden, by those in power. Unsurprisingly, every Ravenclaw could tell you that knowledge is power. Now, she had the power! Her desires were well within her grasp. All she had to do was squeeze.


Mayor Mare sat behind her desk and waited for the occupants to digest the information obtained from the letter.

“If I recall correctly, the owl did not wait for a reply. In fact, as soon as I had possession of the letter, it departed,” Rarity was recalling. Her coat was spotless once more, and her mane and tail had been returned to their accustomed condition.

“Wait! I’m confused. Are we proud that they’ve taken the initiative to further their own education, or are we upset because they took off for school without telling anypony!” The question had started out smoothly but by the end Pinkie’s voice had risen a few octaves and she was bouncing in place.

“They are so grounded when they get back.” Applejack answered Pinkie's question for everypony and was meet with a round of affirming nods.

“I want to know what classes they are taking where somepony could get bitten,” Twilight said as she hit a tangent she couldn’t ignore.

“That don’t matter none at all, right now,” Applejack countered, something else on her mind. “How do we go about sending a letter when we ain’t got no owl.”

“We do have Owlowiscious,” Fluttershy offered. “Maybe he’d like to help.”

There was another round of nodding approval as the mares left to implement the plan. As Mayor Mare watched them exit, she reflected on the one who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, a deviation from character that was worrisome.

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