• Published 23rd Apr 2017
  • 15,040 Views, 7,156 Comments

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?

  • ...

PreviousChapters Next
Chapter 14: Unwanted Attention

Author's Note:

This chapter took a bit longer than normal to publish.
I haven't had time to write lately, it being summer and family time and all.
What free time I have had, I've spent killing kerbals.
The destruction! The screams! The explosions everywhere!

An annoyingly familiar tenor displaced the cock’s crow in the pre-dawn darkness. “Rarity, it’s time to wake up.”

Without opening her eyes, the unicorn promptly threw her pillow at the source.

As the pest casually batted the pillow away with his lion’s paw, inches from his face, he wagged a taloned finger at her and scolded, “Now, now, no need for that.”

Cracking open an eye, Rarity bounced her alarm clock off his forehead.

“No, really, time to get up,” the draconequus admonished.

The bedside table missed him by a few inches.

“Um,” he said.

Half asleep, the unicorn summoned for her bat.

“I’ll come back when you’re more awake,” he said hurriedly and disappeared with a flash of light.

Sensing no further disturbance, she plopped her head down to get some more beauty sleep. As she drifted off, she mused, “Where’d my pillow go?”


There was an extra-large platter of bacon for breakfast that morning at the Gryffindor table. Apparently, the cooks had realized that a normal-sized one was not going to be enough anymore.

“What do we have first thing?” Dean casually asked as he made sure to grab his portion of the popular pork product.

“Herbology.” Hermione stopped eating her porridge to answer, without looking at her schedule. “Didn’t you look so you'd know which books to pack for class?”

“All my books fit in my new bag,” he answered, dueling Ron for the pancakes. “I just stuffed ‘em all in, so I’m good to go.”

“Same here,” Lavender chirped, patting her shoulder bag. “Doesn’t add to the weight, so why not?”

“Books aside, I’m looking forward to double transformation this afternoon,” Scootaloo said, also claiming some bacon to see what the fuss was about. “I’m sure that will come in handy, sooner or later.”

“Transfiguration,” Hermione and Sweetie Belle corrected at the same time.

“That’s what I said,” Scootaloo acknowledged.

Rolling her eyes, Sweetie Belle added fried eggs to the bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich she was building and started sharing with Philomena.


Elsewhere . . .

“You’se be wanting to go ins now?” the small creature with eyes as big as tennis balls asked. “Whimsy be getting the big-big doors for you.”

Fitting actions to words, he opened the doors.


“I wonder how hard it will be to find the herbology classroom,” Scootaloo mused before she took another bite of bacon.

“Herbology is taught in those greenhouses we saw outside yesterday,” Lavender informed her.

“Will it be safe going to the greenhouses?” Sweetie asked as she finished off her breakfast sandwich. “There are rampaging unicorns out there.”

“Unicorns aren’t known for their rampaging, Sweetie,” Parvati said, glancing up to look directly at Sweetie Belle. “Besides, I think the one behind you is the only one interested in you right now.”

Sweetie Belle returned Parvati’s gaze and said, “That’s not funny, Parvati. Please don’t j—” Suddenly, something nudged her left shoulder, and Philomena trilled a greeting from her other shoulder. Sweetie Belle exclaimed, “Oh, horsefeathers!”

“That’s a unicorn, not a pegasus.” Hermione noted, “She doesn’t have any feathers.” Annoyingly, no one could tell if she were being facetious or just helpful.

Sighing, Sweetie Belle turned around and came face to muzzle with a long white face. She then checked the rest of her surroundings. Sure enough, the entire hall had grown silent, and all attention was focused on the new four-legged visitor. The scene was so captivating that the arrival of the morning post went almost unnoticed.

“Good morning, would you like a banana?” Sweetie Belle cautiously addressed the creature. It wasn’t a unicorn pony. Rather, the mare was larger, heavier, and had a large spiral horn in the middle of her forehead. Truthfully, she looked a lot like a larger version of Princess Celestia, only without the flowing mane, or any indication of pony-level intelligence.

“Sweetie,” Lavender admonished as she reached for a tray of peach tarts, “I don’t think unicorns eat bananas. Try these instead.”

“Oh look,” Seamus noted, pointing at the vanishing fruit. “Unicorns eat bananas.”

“Still, shouldn’t you have peeled it first?” Harry added as Lavender, unperturbed, handed over the tray of tarts anyway.

“I’m no expert on magic castles or anything,” Dean interrupted nodding at Sweetie Belle’s newest fan. “But shouldn’t a unicorn showing up for breakfast rate more than just a ‘Good morning, would you like a banana?’”

“There weren’t any apples,” Sweetie Belle countered, handing another banana over and then, to strike a balance, fed Philomena a piece of bacon.

“Did somepony say ‘apples’?” a redhead asked as she paused in her eating. Then, when she noticed the unicorn, she queried, “Oh hey, when did she get here?”

“Really, Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo shook her head. “How can you be so ovivious?”

“Oblivious,” Hermione and Sweetie Belle automatically corrected.

“That’s what I said.”


Rarity was eating a simple breakfast of English muffins and jam when her quarry put in an appearance.

“I’m rather miffed at you right now,” she informed him as she dabbed her lips with a cloth napkin.

“So I gathered,” he acknowledged, running his taloned digits through is beard. “The table wasn’t very subtle.”

“Twilight has counseled that I should wait and hear you out prior to commencing with the beatings,” Rarity said, pushing her plate away slightly and focusing on her visitor.

“Ironically,” Discord said as he settled into a chair he summoned, “beatings and worse have become richly deserved. Let me relay what I have gleaned from the wards around the house of one Petunia Dursley. After that, I’ll explain how you can help me.”

“I cannot say that I have the proper disposition to help you at the current time.” Rarity’s voice was icy and she let her eyelids close halfway in a glare.

“That is about to change.” Discord rested his chin on the balled fist of his lion’s paw, and Rarity saw a look on his face that bode poorly for whomever was targeted.


Alice was ready to go. It was time to put what she had learned to the test. One thing was certain: by the end of the day, she would either have justice or she would be fleeing England. Fortunately, the odds favored the first option.

She scrutinized her new outfit one more time, double checked her satchel and its contents, and then apparated to the Ministry. She would be early, so she could afford to stop by the cafeteria for breakfast.


Feeding tarts to the unicorn and grapes to Philomena, Sweetie Belle wasn’t too preoccupied to glance at the head table. As one, the seated, amused professors were watching her attend to the animals. “At least it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting in trouble,” she muttered as she found a tray of apples had suddenly appeared on the table. “And I’d better hide these from Apple Bloom.”

“Look on the bright side Sweetie.” Dean grinned at her broadly. “You’ve got your biggest surprise for the day out of the way.”

“Sweetie!” Percy called from down the table, several seats away. “You’re going to want to read the ‘Daily Prophet!’”

Sweetie Belle gave Dean the dirtiest possible look she could manage. He looked at the ceiling and whistled innocently.

Before long, Sweetie Belle had an issue of the paper in hand. Her eyes flashed over the words and she slammed the paper onto the table. “OH, COME ON!!” was heard echoing through the Great Hall.

Hermione stared at Sweetie Belle, surprised by the sudden outburst. “What’s so bad?” she asked.

In response Sweetie turned to Harry and said, “Stop drinking your pumpkin juice for a minute. I’ve got something to tell you.”

Harry swallowed the juice in his mouth and put down his cup. “What? Did they get the marriage contract they wanted?”

“Yup,” Hermione said, having retrieved the paper from the table. “Looks like your aunt signed on your behalf.”

Harry looked at Hermione and hoarsely inquired, “You’re joking, right?”

“About as much as Parvati was joking about the unicorn,” Hermione responded, reading the rest of the article at the same time.

Harry had no idea what to say, so he turned to look at Sweetie Belle and found the girl was already looking at him.

“Uh,” he articulated.

“Uh,” she responded in kind.

“Erm,” he offered.

“Aaaaa,” she countered.

“Gaaaah!” Ginny offered her opinion as she managed to grab hold of the paper.

“This is going to be one heck of a whirlwind romance with all that exhilarating dialogue,” one of the sixth-year girls noted.


Albus Dumbledore was not a happy man. His trip to the Ministry the night before had borne no fruit. It was bad enough that he had received a letter notifying him that he was no longer Harry Potter’s magical guardian, but when he had demanded to examine the paperwork, he had been denied. He was the Head Warlock, but he had been denied. The excuse had been that it was an agreement between two families, of which he was not a representative. If he wanted to contest, he would have to wait until a tribunal was convened or he petitioned the Wizengamot. When he insisted that he was the boy’s magical guardian, the answer had been, “not anymore.”

It was a good thing that the Wizengamot would meet today. Doubtlessly, he would soon have the leverage needed to reverse whatever folly the Dursley woman had caused. Even if the prophecy were no longer whole, Dumbledore needed to lead the boy to his destiny, all for the greater good.

Later than was his habit, Albus entered the Great Hall to break his fast . . . why was there another unicorn at the Gryffindor table?


“Why did Ginny just run out of here crying?” Apple Bloom dropped her fork and started to follow after the redhead.

“Like Scootaloo said,” Lavender started as she fell in behind Apple Bloom.

“Ovivious,” Parvati finished as she and Scootaloo fell in line as well.

“Oblivious,” Hermione corrected absently, her face buried back in the paper, heedless of both the irony and the impending drama.

“Now, is not the time to do twin impressions,” Apple Bloom admonished as she led the girls out of the Great Hall to console their heartbroken friend.

Meanwhile, Harry and Sweetie Belle had gotten to the next stage of their interactions. That’s to say they were staring at each other wide-eyed, neither willing to poke the elephant in the room.

“You still need to blink occasionally,” the same sixth-year girl commented, watching them. “Breathing would probably help, too.”

“Ummm,” they both agreed and continued to stare.

“By the way,” Hermione interjected, never looking up from the paper, “the unicorn here is an ‘unfounded rumor’. Speaking of which, she needs a name; we can’t keep calling her ‘the unicorn’.”

“Ma!” Sweetie Belle stated.

“Gah!” was Harry’s reply.

“Magah’s a weird name, but she is your unicorn.” Hermione nodded turning the page. “Are you going to take her with you to the Wizengamot?”

“Wait? What?” Sweetie Belle tore her gaze away from Harry.

“Ten sickles say that name sticks,” one of the twins commented.

“She’s not my unicorn,” Sweetie protested. “You can’t own a unicorn.”

With attention focused elsewhere, Harry did what any sane young man in his situation would do. He quickly and quietly left. Well, quickly at least; “quietly” didn’t matter with all the background noise having returned.

“No more than you can own a phoenix.” An elderly voice intruded on the conversation. “Nonetheless, she is your unicorn as much as you are her little girl.” The headmaster had forgone breakfast and was investigating the newest addition to the hall.

“But . . . but . . . but,” Sweetie sputtered as her mind seized up just trying to begin to explain how that statement was so fundamentally wrong.

“Bringing Magah to the Wizengamot to claim your seat would be a masterful move,” Albus said, stroking his beard while his eyes twinkled madly. “None could dispute your suitability.”

“I’ve already got a proxy.” Sweetie Belle enlightened the headmaster. “He’s going to be taking my place; so, I don’t have to go.”

“You’ve chosen a proxy already?” Dumbledore expertly hid his disappointment at the news.

“Yeah, I wanted to give it to Discord, but he’s not a citizen, and apparently proxies have to be citizens.” Sweetie nodded in agreement. “So, I went with another.”

“And yet,” Dumbledore mused out loud, “being present for the bestowment of your Wizengamot seat would be most advisable. I think it would be worth missing one or two morning classes.”

“I guess.” Sweetie Belle relented. “I can always get notes from Scootaloo.”

“Very well.” The headmaster smiled encouragingly. “I see no reason to delay.” Dumbledore stood straighter and a phoenix flamed into existence above him. “Fawkes, if you would be so kind as to transport us.”

There was a flash of flames and the Great Hall became less interesting for the remaining students.


Trotting down the main thoroughfare of Ponyville toward Twilight’s library, Rarity was perturbed -- perturbed and angry. Actually, “angry” was too mild a word. She was both furious and heartsick. The unusual seriousness that Discord had displayed should have been a warning; the suppressed rage should have sent her running.

Whom was she kidding? Even with a warning, she would never have conceptualized what he had been told her. All the anger she had been brewing for the draconequus had evaporated, forgotten and unimportant. Even knowing now what had been said, the whole thing seemed a dream. No, it was a nightmare. How could anypony treat a colt that way? It was unthinkable. It was unforgivable. It was untenable. It could not be allowed to continue. She would not allow it to continue.

In all honesty, Discord had left loopholes that she could back herself and Sweetie Belle out of with little or no effort -- loopholes she would not take if it meant leaving the colt in the environment where he had been raised. No responsible pony would even think about taking the easy way out. No pony with even an ounce of kindness, mercy, or integrity would even consider it. There might as well be no loopholes at all; their only purpose was to emphasize that she was going forward willingly.

Then there was the fact that the colt in question was a human. The fillies had spectacularly failed to mention the school they were attending was populated by humans. Rarity was painfully aware of the stories about them. She lived in a village with Lyra, for Celestia’s sake. How could Rarity not know the legends based on what were supposed to be fictional creatures? Yesterday, they were something found only in fairy tales; now she was responsible for the well-being of one.

What was she going to do about that? Equestrian law specifically forbade raising colts with the intention of having them marry your relatives. The laws were meant to prevent removing choice from said colts. Unscrupulous ponies had been known to adopt colts with the express intent that they marry their daughters. It was some very unpleasant business. Rarity knew she would have to pick somepony neutral to raise the colt, but whom? It would have to be somepony she could trust, but couldn’t be somepony close enough that it could be considered a conspiracy. Who could she possible impose on to . . . oh wait, it was obvious once she thought about it.

Mind made up, Rarity changed course to Town Hall. She would need to speak with Mayor Mare, but she didn’t foresee any difficulties.


Sweetie Belle was no longer on school grounds; that much was evident. She was somewhere indoors, the stone ceiling belied the otherwise outdoors ambiance. There were wizards and witches everywhere, with their robes and their stares. It was their stares that were annoying, mainly because they seemed focused on her. No, wait. They were focused on the unicorn behind her. Magah stood there glaring at anyone who might be a threat to Sweetie, warning them not to even try to assault her. Wait. When was it decided her name would be Magah?

“Well then,” Dumbledore said with Fawkes perched on his shoulder. “We seem to be the cause of a spectacle.”

Sweetie looked up at him with Philomena on her own shoulder, trilling softly. “They seem surprised to see Magah.”

“I do believe this is the first time a unicorn has made her way to the ministry,” he chuckled. “It is a singularly remarkable happenstance.”

“We could just leave,” Sweetie suggested, intimidated by all the attention.

“Do not worry,” Dumbledore gently chided. “They are just curious. After all, one does not see two phoenixes and a unicorn every day.”

“I see unicorns every day,” Sweetie reminded him. “The two phoenixes are new though.”

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore said as he made his way over to the check-in desk, “but that makes the occasion no less noteworthy. This young wizard here will be needing your wand to weigh it.”

Sweetie Belle warily eyed the human stallion behind the desk then surrendered her wand to be tested.


Lucius Malfoy watched as Arthur Weasley strutted into the Wizengamot waiting chambers, radiating an aura of elation. “What do you think you’re doing?” Lucius sneered, looking down his nose as if the man before him were a piece of offal. “Only Wizengamot members and servants are allowed in here.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Mr. Weasley agreed as he claimed a comfy chair next to the Longbottom matron and otherwise ignoring Malfoy. “Good morning, Augusta. How are you doing?”

“I am well, Arthur,” the old woman responded formally. “Has your family regained what was lost? If so, let me be the first to congratulate you and yours.”

Arthur tilted his head toward her in acknowledgement. “Thank you. I’m delighted to tell you that I will be sitting as proxy.”

Damnation! The brat had appointed a proxy. Lucius was incensed; she had chosen the worst possible family imaginable. She had literally just handed Dumbledore a guaranteed vote for whatever he wanted. Worse, even when she was removed, the seat would remain and in the hands of those blood traitors. Once the seat was acknowledged by the assembly, the damage would be permanent. The only option he had was clear; he was going to have to delay the bestowal and rush the accident along, if there was to be any hope of averting the travesty. If Weasley was here without the child, then it was apparent that he was planning on the fools just handing him the seat. It would be easy; all Lucius had to do was insist that the girl show proof of the phoenix to the Wizengamot. Seats couldn’t be passed out due to rumors after all. That would give him a month before the girl showed up at the next meeting, only he would make sure she didn’t show up.

Plans made, Lucius sauntered out of the waiting area; he could wait in the assembly hall. The waiting chambers had lost their appeal as he began to prepare his trap.


Sweetie Belle hurried out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened. The car had been too small at first, but all it had taken was a few waves of her headmaster’s wand, and it was big enough to accommodate everyone, including Magah. In her own honest opinion, Sweetie thought the car was still too small. In her haste, she ran into an older witch with a monocle and grey hair.

The witch studied her briefly, seemingly paying close attention to her pink and purple mane. “Well Albus, the rumors appear to be true. You brought a unicorn, as well as the new phoenix-bonded.”

Albus let his eyes twinkle as he tilted his head slightly in greeting. “Indeed. After all, Amelia, what better way is there to start the morning than with a couple phoenixes and maybe a unicorn or two?”

Amelia narrowed her eyes slightly, “Should we be expecting another unicorn to show up?”

Dumbledore chuckled knowingly, “I doubt any more unicorns will be arriving today.”

Amelia studied him suspiciously for a few seconds, then turned to the little girl who had run into her. “You must be Sweetie Belle,” she said. “My name is Amelia Bones, I am head of the DMLE.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Sweetie sent out her most winning smile and Philomena trilled her own greeting from Sweetie’s shoulder. “Yes, I’m Sweetie Belle.” Then Sweetie was firmly pushed out of the way as Magah decided she wasn’t staying in the elevator any longer.

“You’ve made the headlines of the 'Daily Prophet' two days in a row now, young lady.” Amelia continued to scrutinize the child. “Is it true you have a marriage contract with Harry Potter?”

“Maybe?” Sweetie Belle answered truthfully.

Amelia raised an eyebrow at the response. “You don’t know?”

“The morning paper was the first I heard of it,” Sweetie admitted.

“You can’t believe everything you read,” Dumbledore said; he hadn’t read the morning paper and was hearing the rumor for the first time. He had already negotiated a marriage contract between Harry and Ginevra; any other contracts would not be according to his plans and would have to be voided -- with prejudice.


The cream-colored earth pony was industriously wrapping individual pieces of candy, skillfully keeping her pink and blue mane out of the product. They were a mixture of tasty fillings inside various types of chocolate shells. The candies were, in fact, commonly known as a bonbon, which was slightly ironic, considering that was the name by which the pony was known.

Humming happily to herself, she was reaching for one of the tasty caramel-filled ones when the front door of her candy shop slammed open. Alarmed, Bonbon shot a look at the entrance and saw that the culprit was none other than her partner Lyra. The mint-colored unicorn was hopping up and down excitedly with a grin that would have given Pinkie Pie a run for her bits.

“Bonbon! Bonbon!” Lyra pronked over to the mare in question. “Guess what! Guess what!”

Vowing to cut back on the sugar content in Lyra’s diet, Bonbon smiled at the unicorn’s obvious excitement. “You got invited to play at the Grand Galloping Gala?” she ventured.

“Better!” Lyra stood on her hind legs and threw her forelegs wide to share the news. “Rarity’s going to let us take care of her pet human!”


Lucius had cornered a trio of neutral faction voters. For four minutes, he had explained to them the importance of the individual receiving the honor being present for the bestowal of their Wizengamot seat. He had insisted that it was unbecoming to send a proxy to procure the honor in their stead, even with school being in session. He slyly hinted that they should hold off until next meeting to force the rumored phoenix-bonded to actually show up.

Satisfied that he would have more than enough votes to force a delay, Lucius rubbed his hands in anticipation as he made his way to his seat. The hubbub of the chamber abruptly stopped, as if a switch had been thrown. Lucius stopped and turned to look where everyone was staring.

From atop the pure white unicorn, the absurdly pink- and purple-haired girl said into the stunned silence, “Um, how am I supposed to get down?” The phoenix perched on her shoulder trilled in amusement.

Frowning, Lucius had to concede that he would not be able to stop the Weasleys from getting the proxy. All his efforts were for naught. He could already see that this was going to be an assembly remembered for generations to come.


Smiling to himself, Dumbledore made his way to the Head Warlock podium. It had been a nice touch to have Sweetie Belle ride Magah into the chamber. It simultaneously put her on display and kept her preoccupied. Then there was the pleasant surprise that she had picked Arthur as her proxy. The disappointment he had felt earlier had been unfounded; he couldn’t have asked for a more favorable selection.

When he took his spot, the murmuring started as people made their ways to their seats. It was evident that most, if not all, Wizengamot members had decided to attend this assembly, and the spectator seats seemed to be filled to capacity as well. This was going to be an assembly remembered for generations to come.


Minister Fudge was a portly little man, a portly little man who hated when others had the limelight and excluded him. Dumbledore had done just that. The opportunity to connect this young girl’s first public appearance with the office of the minister had been missed. He was well aware that if he tried to put in an appearance with the girl while she was on the unicorn, wizards would subconsciously note that he was in the inferior position. Fudge would have to wait until she dismounted; then, she would be fair game.

Gritting his teeth, the minister had to acknowledge something to himself, even though he saw no immediate way to capitalize on it. This was going to be an assembly remembered for generations to come.


Alice rubbernecked from her seat with the spectators. The young girl really did have a phoenix! There were two phoenixes in the chambers, one on the shoulder of the head warlock, and one on the shoulder of the girl! That would be stunning by itself, never mind that she was riding a unicorn. Such a scene had been hinted at in legends but never actually witnessed by a crowd before. Unicorns didn’t generally let people ride on their backs. The girl looked unsure of herself, unused to being the center of attention, but she had a bloody phoenix and unicorn! She might as well just declare herself a princess at this point; she’d have the votes to back her claim.

Oh yes, an ally of the light was dominating the floor, unaware of her own importance. This was glorious! Even before Alice had gotten her chance, this was going to be an assembly remembered for generations to come!

Join our Patreon to remove these adverts!
PreviousChapters Next
Join our Patreon to remove these adverts!