• 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 12: Giving Chaos Ideas

Alastor Moody was not what most would call an attractive man. Maybe in his youth he would have been considered passably handsome, but the years had not been kind to him. The conflicts he had participated in over the decades had been even less so. As a consequence, his face was now a network of scars, and the rest of his body hadn’t fared any better. Most noticeable were the bits of himself he had forfeited to battle; one leg was gone, as was part of his nose. However, it was unquestionably his eye which was his most striking feature, his magical prosthetic eye. The electric blue abnormality resided in the socket vacated by his missing eye, an ever-present reminder of what he had lost.

It should be noted that life’s experience had left Moody a smidgen paranoid, to the point that he ate or drank nothing without checking it for poison first. Also, it was no surprise that before he bedded at night, he double checked his wards and gave his home a once over for suspicious changes. Not much escaped his notice, which was why it was so much more astonishing to him to find his kitchen was already occupied when he awoke the next morning.

Thanks to his magical eye, Moody was well aware of the visitor before he even stepped foot out of his bedroom. Accordingly, he had his wand drawn and already trained on the visitor as he entered the room. Sitting at his table, casually reading the morning paper, and sipping tea was a man Moody had never seen before.

“Who are you?” Moody snapped as he made his presence known, “How’d you get in here?”

The stranger, dressed in a spotless brown business suit, never looked up from the paper he was reading. The mismatched gloves he wore were a striking contrast to his otherwise dapper appearance. “Good morning Mr. Moody. I was beginning to wonder when you’d put in an appearance. Fortunately, I’ve had some interesting reading to occupy my time.”

‘It’s my bloody house,” Moody growled. “It’s your appearance that I’m more concerned about.”

This caused the man to laugh as he put down the paper. “You wouldn’t be the first to say that to me.”

Moody just kept his wand aimed at the intruder as he sidestepped over to his fireplace.

The stranger watched the movement with the hint of a smile on his face. “No need for hostilities, my good man. I’ve just come to make a few inquiries of you.”

“Such as?’ Moody growled, not stopping until he was in front of his fireplace.

“I have heard it told that when it comes to defense from the dark arts, you are the go-to man,” the stranger purred as he steepled his fingers together. “I was wondering what it would take to get you to agree to teaching some Hogwarts students.”

Moody took a handful of floo powder and, without looking, threw in in the flames and calling out, “Auror Command.” Keeping his eyes focused on the stranger, he waited until he knew the flames would turn green before he barked, “Backup.” Only then did he answer the question. “Albus has tried to rope me into that position more than once. In fact, I hear he already found someone to fill the position this year.”

The stranger leaned back in the chair, unperturbed by the quartet of new wizards filing in through the fireplace. “His choice is worse than useless. I intend for the children to have a true education, unsoiled by political posturing or an old wizard’s machinations.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert on choosing teachers then?” Moody never let the point of his wand leave the stranger. “You expect me to believe you broke in here just to offer me a job that’s already filled?”

“I had hoped you would have the students’ best interest in mind when I brought the deficit to light.” The stranger reached for another sip of tea. “Failing that, what is your opinion on a proper teacher? Someone you would trust with the education of first-years?”

“You still lack the authority to change out professors at the school just on your whim,” Moody observed. The four aurors, who had come at Moody’s call, had also trained their wands on the stranger, waiting for Moody’s orders.

“Students may request tutors for any subject. This holds particularly true when the professor they have been provided falls short of even the lowest standards.” The stranger finished off the tea in his cup. “Do you happen to know anyone who could fill the role? It has become exceedingly obvious that you are not interested in the job.”

Moody frowned and studied the man; there wasn’t a hint of stress coming from him despite being the target of five wands. With his relaxed posture, he either had nerves of steel, or an ace up his sleeve. Either way, there was no reason to escalate the situation. “There’s a young auror who’d just been let go at the insistence of the Minister. Rotten piece of business it was too. Clearly a thinly veiled bit of discrimination, prompted by Fudge’s favorite advisor, Malfoy. The unfortunate lad’s name is Richard Goodman. You can be sure a bit of work sent his way would not be unappreciated.”

“Now that wasn’t so painful, was it?” The stranger smiled and nodded his acceptance, “Thank you for your time, I’ll leave you now to your own business.” With a snap of his fingers, the stranger was gone in a flash of light, and the apparition wards never even flickered.


Sunday brunch brought another storm of owls. This time, none sought out Sweetie or the other Crusaders. In truth, the only first-year to receive any mail was Hermione. Harry’s owl had brought a reply from the muggle-born’s mother and the girl was tickled pink that Harry had lent her Hedwig for the exchange.

Sweetie Belle tried not to feel too neglected and settled for sharing her bacon with Philomena. She really had not meant to scare off both Harry and his owl with that one careless question. In truth, she couldn’t blame him for his response; Applejack would probably have had the same reaction if Sweetie had asked if Winona were tasty. So, even though it hurt, she decided to give Harry some space and not bother Hedwig at all.

Neville, who was sitting next to Sweetie Belle, asked, “Is that much bacon good for her? I know you have to limit the amount you give to owls; I’m not too sure about phoenixes though.”

Sweetie Belle had no idea how much meat a phoenix could safely eat, so she switched to feeding her grapes, much to Philomena’s disappointment. “Thanks Neville. I wouldn’t want to make her sick.”

“You’re. . . You’re welcome, Sweetie,” Neville stuttered, blushing slightly.

From down the table, Percy waved for Sweetie Belle’s attention. “They’ve got an article about you in the ‘Daily Prophet’,” he announced. “You might want to read it.”

“An article?” Sweetie’s eyes widened in alarm. “About me? Why?”

In response, Percy handed the paper to the student next to him, and in that way, it was handed down the table until it reached Sweetie Belle. The first thing she noticed was the headline “PHOENIX-BONDED!”, under which was what had to be a stock photo of a phoenix spreading its wings. Curiosity properly aroused, she read the article.

When our children receive their letters of acceptance to Hogwarts, they are given a list of supplies. The list has all the common necessities required for schooling as well as a short list of animals preferred by the school. Toads, owls, and cats are, therefore, the most common animals to arrive with students for their stay. That is not to say there haven’t been exceptions in the past. Foxes, rats, crups, puffskein, and the occasional niffler have been known to take up residence in the illustrious walls of Hogwarts, as the occasion may have warranted. However, this year, there has been a first for the record books. Never before has a student been accompanied by a phoenix.

This paper has received several owls corrborating the arrival of a phoenix with yesterday’s morning post. The majestic bird arrived with a missive for its bonded and made the delivery just like a common owl. And who, you may ask, is this phoenix-bonded that we speak of? Surprisingly, it appears to be a first year Gryffindor student by the name of “Sweetie Belle”. She was subsequently seen roaming the halls with the phoenix on her shoulder, and even used the bird’s unique traveling magic to make a spectacular entrance at supper. Sadly, we at the "Daily Prophet" have not at this time been able to obtain much information on this young lady, but the mere fact that she is bonded to a phoenix speaks volumes. Only the bravest and purest of heart have ever receive such a rare honor. To the point, the last time a phoenix has been known to be bonded, it was to Albus Dumbledore himself (See page 7). Moreover, with several laws pertaining to the appearance of a phoenix-bonded, it is safe to say that we can expect much from the young Miss Belle. The young lady, just by having a phoenix, already has several responsibilities and privileges to call her own (See page 14 for summary).

It should be noted that Sweetie Belle shares her year and house with none other than the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter himself. Accordingly, witnesses have claimed that the two seem to be getting along well together, a very pleasing circumstance that has this author hopefully reminding their guardians that it is not too early to consider a marriage contract. Surely, the union of these two would be a boon for the entirety of all of Magical-Britain. Furthermore, we hope to hear more from this couple in the near future and look forward to seeing how they affect our society in the years to come.

“Well?” Hermione asked, once Sweetie Belle put down the paper with a bemused look on her face. “What does it say?”

“It says I should marry Harry,” a wide-eyed Sweetie Belle whispered in astonishment. From where he sat, Harry found that it had been exactly the wrong time to be taking a deep pull of his pumpkin juice. As a result, Seamus and Parvati found that they weren’t too fond of wearing pumpkin juice.


It hungered yet again. Prey had been passing by for some time now, too many to risk an attack. So, it waited patiently for the herd to thin. After a time, its patience was rewarded as a single straggler lumbered by. With expert precision, it took the opportunity and pounced.

“Ow! It bit me on my other ankle!”


“Hello Button Mash,” a voice behind the brown colt said, causing him to stumble slightly as he walked down the narrow alleyway on his way to the market square.

“Oh, hey there, Discord,” Button Mash greeted the voice cheerfully. “I’m on my way to play some ‘Pony Knight Rumble Spectacular’; you want to be Player 2?” He looked around but couldn’t find the target of his invitation.

Discord chuckled at the predictable little colt. “I’m not even fully in your dimension right now; I’m just throwing my voice.”

“Okay,” Button Mash said rubbing his head with his hoof. “Did you want something?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” the voice of Discord said. “I have a favor to ask you.”


Up at the head table, Professor Sprout was whispering some news to the headmaster. After she was finished talking, she took her seat and looked at Dumbledore expectantly.

The headmaster stood up and waved his wand, sending sparks to gain attention and call for silence. “I have a quick announcement,” he said once the hall had quieted down. “It would seem that we have a new resident roaming the castle. Reportedly, it is a small blob of light blue slime and is said to be particularly agile. While it has proven to be mostly harmless, you would be well-advised not to antagonize it.” He paused to take a breath. “Apparently, it bites. A truly remarkable feat, once you stop to consider that it doesn’t appear to have teeth.”

“What?” Madam Hooch asked from where she was sitting at the head table. “Has someone else seen the mouse?”


Standing in his lavish sitting room, Lucius Malfoy bitterly read the morning paper. It had not yet been one full day gone by and already the new phoenix-bonded was drawing notice and praise. The “Daily Prophet” only enforced the reality that she could not be removed quickly enough!

As swiftly as he had been able, he had made arrangements to call in some markers. Unfortunately, the next Friday would be the soonest he been able to arrange a meeting with the necessary people. Furthermore, the girl was safely at Hogwarts, making it no mean feat to arrange an accident. Clearly, this was going to be an expensive venture, without a guarantee and without a definite time frame. Lucius seethed with impotence, embittered by the knowledge that he was unquestionably going to lose influence before the deed was done.

It absolutely had to appear to be an accident with no connections to himself. Otherwise, the backlash would be almost as detrimental as the girl herself. Potentially, it could even be worse. Rushing would most assuredly cost him dearly, as would waiting patiently. With no favorable options available, Lucius fumed as he sat down in a chair. He was not a happy wizard.


The Gryffindor first-years were just finishing their meal when their head of house sought them out.

“Good morning, children,” she said as she approached the table. “Miss Aloo, once you are finished, I will need you to follow me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scootaloo obediently agreed, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “I’m done now.”

Professor McGonagall frowned. “Use your napkin instead of your sleeves in the future, please.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as Lavender and Parvati giggled. Scootaloo looked first at her sleeve, then at the napkins on the table and said, “Okay,” much too cheerfully for someone who had just been scolded.

Raising her eyebrow was the only response Professor McGonagall gave as she turned to leave. Scootaloo soon followed in her wake. They made their way swiftly through the halls and were outside the clinic before too long. Wordlessly, Professor McGonagall motioned for Scootaloo to enter.

Feeling less than enthusiastic over being in the medical wing once again, Scootaloo went in and was greeted by Madam Pomfrey’s infectious smile. “Hello, Miss Aloo,” the nurse greeted. “If you would go behind that screen there and get on the examination table, we can begin.”

Cautiously, Scootaloo did as she was bid, the confusion plain on her face. She heard Madam Pomfrey exchange greetings with Professor McGonagall and then there was the clinking of glass on glass. Not long after, Madam Pomfrey joined her behind the screen, carrying a corked glass bottle.

Madam Pomfrey put the bottle on a nearby table and addressed Scootaloo. “Well now, dear, it’s time to have that talk. Would you please remove your pendant?” When she had a sad-looking little orange pegasus before her, she commented playfully, “My, aren’t you the expressive little thing?”

Scootaloo mumbled some response to the affirmative as Madam Pomfrey once again scanned her wings. Nodding to herself, the nurse took a cup from the table and poured a measure of liquid from the bottle into it.

“Here we go. Professor Snape was up late brewing this for you.” Madam Pomfrey offered the cup to Scootaloo before frowning. “Am I going to need to get you a bowl?”

“A bowl?” Scootaloo asked taking the cup in her hooves, much to Madam Pomfrey’s astonishment. “Why would I need a bowl? I’m not a dog.” She sniffed at the cup and found that it smelled like freshly-mown grass and it had a dark green tint to match. Understandably, a human student may have balked at the color and smell, but Scootaloo was partial to smoothies of like consistency that were made with real grass. Enthusiastically, the glass was quickly emptied.

“That was pretty good,” Scootaloo noted hoofing the glass back to Madam Pomfrey. “Could use more ginger, though.”

With yet another smile Madam Pomfrey scolded Scootaloo as she once again scanned the pegasus’ wings, “Potions are not made for their taste, they are made for their effects.”

Abruptly, Scootaloo’s wings grew, doubling their size in a matter of seconds, leaving her feeling tired and hungry. Electricity crackled through her feathers as her magic finally flowed through them. “My wings!” she gasped even as she slumped onto her side, all the while being scanned by Madam Pomfrey.

“That worked better than I was hoping for,” Madam Pomfrey informed Scootaloo as she filled another glass with a white milky potion. “Drink this nutrient potion and then it’s nap time; you’ll be right as rain when you wake.”

“My wings!” Scootaloo repeated as Madam Pomfrey helped her sit up enough to drink the second potion. “My wings!”

“Yes dear, they should be channeling magic properly now.”

With a smile on her face, Scootaloo drifted to sleep almost immediately after finishing the second potion. She had her broom, and now she had her wings. Life was good.


The bell above the door rang and Rarity called out as she trotted out from the back, “Come in darling! Welcome to the Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique. Oh, hello there. You’re one of Sweetie Belle’s little friends, aren’t you?”

Plainly nervous, Button Mash nodded his head, toting a stack of papers in his mouth.

“And what do we have here?” Rarity asked gesturing to the papers he bore.

Blushing, Button Mash held out the papers with a forehoof. “Marriage contract for Sweetie Belle,” he stammered bashfully.

Rarity giggled as she examined the distraught colt. A common practice for older fillies was to approach the mothers of colts they were interested in and ask for signatures on “marriage contracts”. It was a very old tradition that, though no longer legally binding, was a common occurrence for teenagers. Nowadays, it served more as an ice breaker between the mother and possible daughter-in-law, as colts were notably not very perceptive of the feelings they instilled in the young fillies. It was, therefore, very helpful to prompt a nudge from the colt’s mother.

Still, it was cute that the colt was attempting the ritual so young, even if he had gotten the gender role backwards. Charging her horn, Rarity reached for a quill. There would be no harm in signing the papers for him.


The day was bright and cloudless; the majority of the first-year Gryffindors were outside the castle, exploring the grounds and taking advantage of the weather. They had started at the lake and worked their way to the border of the forbidden forest, stopping just short of entering.

As they stood staring into the trees Hermione said, “You do remember Professor Dumbledore told us that going in was forbidden?”

As one the rest of the group nodded their heads, but none made to move from their spot of observation.

Sighing, Hermione tried again, “And just what do you think the definition of forbidden is?”

“Don’t get caught doing it,” Seamus promptly answered, and there was another round of nods.

“Yeah.” Hermione looked at her feet. “I figured as much.” Then, after another sigh, she continued, “You do know, there’s supposed to be all kinds of fearsome monsters in there. The wards keep them away from the castle proper, though.”

“Ah guess we’ll be needing that wooden sword after all,” Apple Bloom commented as she peered into the forest hoping to glimpse something interesting.

“Nah.” Dean shook his head. “We’re witches and wizards; wands be our weapon of choice.”

It was in that instant that Hermione came to an understanding of exactly which house she’d been sorted into. The true implications were something reading “Hogwarts a History” had not properly conveyed, and with that epiphany came the realization that, sooner or later, they were going to enter that forest.

“Maybe we should learn some spells first before we try,” Hermione suggested, and, to her relief, another round of nods followed. Then she realized she had said “we”.

“Sweetie Belle?” Harry’s voice suddenly asked. “What’s with your bird?”

Philomena had perched herself on top of Harry’s head and was currently stretching her neck and turning her head so the she could examine the scar on his forehead.

“I don’t know,” Sweetie Belle answered after a glance. “That’s a new one on me. Maybe she just likes you.”

They returned to looking at the woods until Ginny turned from her scrutiny and asked, “Do wands count as wooden swords?”


From within the forest proper she sensed the peculiarity, a circumstance that should not have been. There was a child nearby, and she could not sense the child’s mother with it. Every instinct in her let her know that situation would not do. She would investigate and, if need be, care for the child until the mother was found.

She stepped from the shadows and saw a cluster of the two legged creatures she was familiar with. This group was composed of their young ones, and she could sense the child was within their herd. Detecting no malice or ill intent, she went forth to scrutinize the humans.


Draco Malfoy was having a good day. He had been cementing his dominance among the Slytherins, and, so far, most recognized his high standing and influence. It was going so well, in fact, that he decided to go outside and explore the grounds a bit. With his bodyguards in tow, he made his way out the main doors into the bright sunlight.

He was not outside for even a second when he laid eyes on a strange sight. The Gryffindor girl, Sweetie Belle, was running around screaming, “She won’t leave me alone! She won’t leave me alone!” Obviously, she was distressed by the pure white unicorn that was following closely behind her, easily keeping pace and periodically nudging the girl’s shoulder. Completing the ludicrous scene was the phoenix riding on the unicorn’s back, trilling loudly at the excitement.

Meanwhile, the remaining Gryffindors were trailing behind the spectacle showing various levels of amusement.

“Slow down Sweetie,” one of them yelled. “I think she just wants you to ride her.”

In response, Sweetie Belle redoubled her efforts to get away. “Rarity will have a fit if I go around riding strange unicorns again!” she shouted over her shoulder.

Sighing, Draco turned back toward the castle. He was going to have to write his father another letter.


Petunia Dursley opened her front door and beheld a man in a smart brown business suit, the stranger was obviously of good breeding and oozed confidence. “Yes, may I help you?’ she asked.

“Greetings, Mrs. Dursley.” The stranger bowed slightly. “I am here to talk to you about your nephew.”

“He’s not here!” she practically shouted and slammed the door in the face of the stranger.

“Well now,” the man said from behind her. “That was just rude.”

“What are you doing here?” Petunia snapped. “I was promised your kind wouldn’t be bothering us decent folk.”

The man raised one eyebrow, but let the obvious discrepancies in her statement slide. “I am here merely to obtain your signature.”

“Why would I sign anything for you?” Petunia backed up against the closed door, putting as much distance between herself and the freak as she could.

A rare look of anger flashed across the stranger’s face and he continued, “Would you not like to reduce the number of years that your nephew would be required to reside beneath your roof?”

“That old wizard said we were stuck with him until he turned seventeen,” Petunia insisted suspiciously.

“I assure you, none of us want that. I also assure you that I have the child’s best interest in mind.” There was the hint of steel lacing his voice at this point. “The wards around your home would stop any wizard meaning you or the child harm. You only need sign these for me to expedite the time when he will never have to see you again.”

“What’s the catch?” Petunia demanded, not moving from her spot against the door.

“Though it pains me,” the man snarled back at her, “there is no catch. This is an unanticipated opportunity that I am finding more and more imperative as each second passes.”

“It will get the boy out of our hair all the sooner?” One more check was made by Petunia.

The man nodded his head grimly in response.

“Hand those here,” the bi. . . Petunia ordered holding out her hand. “I’ll sign them.”


With some hassle, the large grounds keeper, Hagrid, had finally managed to drag the protesting unicorn back into the forest and the Gryffindors had retreated into the castle.

“Wow!” Neville commented. “She really liked you.”

“I think she wanted to adopt you,” Ginny observed, causing Apple Bloom and Sweetie to give her a dirty look.

“Let’s go find Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle grumbled, not wanting to dwell on the experience. “She’s probably back in the dorm room by now.”

“I’m going to head to the library myself,” Hermione informed the group. “It seems like a good idea to do some research on unicorns.”

“Sweetie can tell you everything you need to know about unicorns.” Apple Bloom offered seriously, and Ginny fell over laughing.


Dylan was sitting in his shop reading a small book when the owl arrived. He quickly retrieved the payload and was soon smiling at what he read. It seemed that his favorite customer had a few more jobs for him.


Lucius glared at his glass of single-malt whiskey. The crumpled report from his son had been angrily hurled into the fireplace. A unicorn bonding with the abomination! He ground his teeth. In two weeks, he could start his agents. Surely, nothing else could go wrong.


Alice finished cleaning off her kitchen table and then went to her closet to see what she had to wear. Tomorrow was going to be the big day and she wanted to look her best. Unfortunately, she had never been big on dressing up and nothing in her wardrobe was remotely suitable. Sadly, it simply wasn’t in her budget to get a new outfit, even though there would still be plenty of time to go to Diagon Alley and have something appropriate made.

Smiling to herself, she summoned a washrag to give the table one more wiping down, when she noticed a small pouch on the table. It contained enough galleons for a nice new set of dress robes.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be grand.

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