• 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 31: Probing, Preparing, and Pizza

Tension hung heavy in the air with hints of both disappointment and anticipation. This was not the way anyone wanted to start the weekend. Normally, there would not be a full staff meeting just after supper. Normally, there would not be a full staff meeting just one week into a new term. The impromptu meeting served to underscore that the past week had been anything but normal.

The faculty lounge was normally the most comfortable place on campus. Located not far from the Great Hall, it was appointed with plush rugs and overstuffed chairs. Normally, the room was arranged to allow small groups to talk among themselves, but a quick bit of transfiguration had reconfigured the room into a small auditorium, with the chairs arranged in tiered semicircles, facing a podium. The full complement of professors and staff fidgeted as they waited for their headmaster to open the meeting he had unexpectedly called.

The hubbub of the assembly abruptly stopped as the door opened. To their surprise, it admitted not the headmaster, but one of the prefects. “Professor McGonagall,” she said, heading toward her head of house, “I’m glad I caught you before the meeting started. There’s been a minor incident back at the tower.

“No doubt involving Mr. Potter and his followers,” Professor Snape sniped, sneering.

“Well, yes, it was the first-years,” Fay admitted.

“What happened, Miss Dunbar?” Professor McGonagall prompted, unworried; her prefect was much too relaxed for it to be anything particularly disquieting.

“The first-years have turned their unicorn into a human,” Fay announced.

“A human you say?” asked Professor Sprout with a small smirk.

“Yes, and she was causing quite a ruckus trying to get out of the dress she was in.” Fay nodded. “She didn’t take too kindly to being clothed.

“A dress?” Professor Flitwick inquired.

“A pink monstrosity,” Fay explained. “Right ghastly thing. Can’t say that I blame her much for wanting to be rid of it. But, she refused to wear anything I transfigured for her, absolutely insisted on being naked.”

Despondently, Professor McGonagall said, “I don’t suppose they’ve had her a week yet.”

“You know perfectly well it’ll be a few days yet before she’s been here a week.” Professor Snape said somewhat smugly.

Sighing, Professor McGonagall pulled two galleons from a pocket and tossed them onto Severus’ lap. Following her lead, Professors Flitwick and Sprout did the same.

“They couldn’t just wait until Monday, now could they?” Professor McGonagall lamented.

Amazed, Mr. Goodman watched Snape pocket his winnings. The tutor asked, “You were expecting this?”

“There is precedent,” Professor Flitwick acknowledged. “Though, I thought they’d go a month before thinking of it.”

“But a group of eleven-year-olds just taught a unicorn how to . . .” Mr. Goodman started; then with a huff, he continued, “Silly me. For a second there, I forgot who I was talking about. This is the group whose response to boring history lessons was to raise the dead. What’s teaching a unicorn to transfigure compared to that?”

“So,” Professor Trelawney, the Divinations professor, asked, “are we starting a pool on when they will accomplish their next impossibility?”


The pack was loping through the shadows cast on the forest floor when one of its members spotted an opportunity. A small meal was scurrying down the game trail. Though it was scanning its surroundings for dangers, it was ignorant of the presence of the predators. There was no warning given, just a pounce, a grab and a quick shake of its head to snap its prey's neck.

The predator expected the squeal, most meals made a vocal protest over their end. What the predator hadn’t counted on was for its prey to suddenly grow in its waiting jaws. There was the cracking of branches and twigs as the hunter received a practical demonstration of the transfer of momentum. The surprise and suddenness didn’t even allow the canine the luxury of calling out before being crushed. Teeth still met the intended victim, even as the predator itself was vanquished. Blood splattered on twigs, leaves and branches, but the terrified prey scampered away from the encounter.


In the Solar Throne Room, the Captain of the Guard had ordered the civilians hauled to safety, even as he stayed behind to contain the worst of the potential destruction. For breathless minutes he watched as Celestia stood on the other side of his expertly-crafted shield and read the contents of the folder. Nopony would be foolish enough to say the Princess wasn’t upset, but the temperature remained relatively constant, the floor remained unmelted, and the throne room avoided further damage.

After the last page was returned to the folder, Celestia looked up and saw that she was alone in her throne room, aside from the captain of her guard. “Shining Armor,” she said, “it’s nearly time for me to lower the sun. Afterwards, my sister and I shall be paying a visit to Canterlot General. Cadence will most likely want to come, too. Please see to it that all those from the last group who still want an audience are allowed back into the throne room to await my return. Also, refreshments would not be amiss. Better yet, provide a full meal for anypony interested.”

“Yes, your highness,” the captain said, eyeing the folder Celestia was still floating with her magic.

Perceiving his gaze, Celestia said, “It is nothing I was not already aware of. This only steels my resolve.”

Shining Armor saluted before rapidly exiting the chamber to do as he was ordered.

Celestia sighed and said, “You can come out now; he’s gone.”

Twilight peeked her head out from behind Celestia’s cushions and said, “He didn’t really think I’d let the guards stop me from being here, did he?”

Celestia smiled warmly before floating the folder over to Twilight. “It is remarkable how this report was almost a verbatim copy of the previous one. I guess medical ponies are the same everywhere, even when they are not ponies.”

“I feel as if I should apologize for bring the whole mess to your attention,” Twilight said, coming close to Celestia. “You have enough to worry about as it is.”

“Twilight,” Celestia said with a firmness that Twilight rarely heard in her voice, “had you neglected to bring this to my attention, that would require the apology. You did the right thing.”


In a typical home in a typical London suburb, he sat on the family room couch, holding his wife close. It had been too long since he had last held her in such a manner. The constant anger would not have allowed it. Though he slept in the same bed as her every night, he had not known her warmth in years. Likewise affected, she now clung to him, as if afraid of drowning. An unsated hunger for the comfort that his nearness offered kept her at his side.

Together, they intently watched their son, home from boarding school for the weekend, due to a "family emergency". The boy was wallowing in front of the telly, seemingly unaffected. Thankfully, the pig tail had been amputated. Overall, their son had been the least affected. After all, he had been raised to the role, and his parents were at a loss on how to handle the situation. Whenever they thought about it, their loathing for magic swelled.

It hadn’t been their fault; it had been the magic’s. Having none of their own, they had no defense against it. Its influence had been more damning than alcohol's; they had done things they never would have even dreamed of doing, even on their worst day -- things that left them wondering just how dark their true selves actually were. Now, bereft of its influence, they were left to pick up the pieces.

He bit his lip and moved his meaty arm to hug his wife closer. Before, he had taken such pleasure in gluttony. Upon reflection, he realized that impulse served only to rub salt in the wounds of a child. Now, for all the pleasure it gave him, everything he ate may as well have been ash. He was appalled at the person he had been just the week before.

Gathering his courage, he said the words that had to be said, but he felt he had no right to say them. “We need to apologize to him.”

His wife shook her head and new tears welled in her eyes. “We must." She shook her head as she paused. "I don’t think I can do it. I still hate him so very much. Even though he’s done nothing, I hate him. Still, we must.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. The hate still gnawed at him as well.

She hugged him closer, and they went back to watching their son.

Harry had not been the only victim.


“Let me see if I got this straight,” Emma said, eyeing the naked individual studying her potted plants. “That’s not a woman; she’s your pet unicorn?”

“Unicorns aren’t pets,” Sweetie Belle insisted. “She just sort of follows me everywhere.”

“But, she’s a unicorn that you’ve turned into a human with a necklace you just happened to have lying around.” Dan raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Yes,” asserted the collection of children.

“And she refuses to wear anything you put on her?” Dan continued.

“Yes,” the children agreed.

“And she’s eating my aloe plant,” Emma noted.

“Magah!” Apple Bloom yelled. “Stop! 'Tain't polite ta go 'round eating somepony’s house plants!”

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Magah moaned as she tried to deal with the spikes from her latest meal. If she were placed in a line up, and random people were brought in and asked which was the unicorn turned human, they would all point to her unfailingly. Normal humans did not have forms as lithe as hers. Normal humans did not have hair in that shade of blonde. Normal humans did not sport knee-length hair. She was, very much, a walking cliché.

“I think we should help her,” Parvati said, rushing forward. “I see something stuck in her tongue.”

Dan took action. Reaching Magah first, he firmly held her still and extracted the offensive material. He avoided being bitten in a manner only a dentist could explain.

“Aaaaaaaa,” Magah complained in his grip.

“I think it would be best if we took her downstairs,” Hermione said. “Daddy’s got part of the cellar set up with a projection telly. There are no windows there, so we can take off the necklace and show you what Magah looks like naturally.”

“I’m going to refrain from making the obvious joke.” Emma smirked.

“Mother!” Hermione gasped.


The opulent furnishing of what was once Malfoy Manor did nothing to calm her nerves as Alice nervously fidgeted in a wingback chair in the sitting room. Discord had yet to reply to her letter; she had no idea if he would accept her invitation for supper. Hopefully, he would accept the offer and put in an appearance.

She had raided Narcissa’s closet, thankful that the two were about the same size. Her prize was a pale blue piece of art that showed off her assets wonderfully. With any luck, Discord would have trouble looking her in the eyes. Not that his eyes weren’t nice, but tonight, they belonged elsewhere.

Anxiously, Alice wrung a laced kerchief in her lap. Narcissa had been kind enough to provide it when she had seen how restless the younger woman was. Alice was still bewildered at how helpful Malfoy’s ex-wife had been over the course of the last week. She had anticipated hostility on that front. The glaring absence was perplexing.

“You look lovely tonight,” said a familiar voice just off to her right. Relief mixed with excitement flooded her system.

“Discord!” Alice exclaimed, quickly rising to her feet. “I’m so happy you could make it!”

“You didn’t think I would abandon you?” Confidence had returned to his voice. This was good.

Alice schooled her impulses and glided over to stand before him. He was wearing the same suit as before. She was going to have to work on that. Reaching out, she straightened the collar of his jacket for him. “You're just in time for supper; won’t you escort me to the dining room?”

Discord forced his eyes on Alice’s and with a gulp, said, “I would be delighted to, but first, I was instructed, in no uncertain terms, by my friend Euridice, that the very first thing I was to do tonight was inform you of my friend Fluttershy.”

With her hand still on Discord’s collar, Alice froze.


Once again, he was alone in a room filled with beanbags. Despite the riot of colors in the room, his blue coat still managed to clash with everything. Mending Psyche had left soon after they had discussed his supper, leaving Harry to wonder about her reaction on learning what steak was. It was just his luck; he got a Hindu pony. His primary school teacher had told a funny story about how she had met a Hindu woman once and made the mistake of ordering beef in front of her. The lesson was supposed to be about respecting other cultures. Having done something similar, Harry could relate with his former teacher. It wasn’t so funny now. How was he supposed to know that Mending had considered cows sacred?

Harry had almost fallen asleep by the time the door reopened. Mending followed a beige unicorn into the room; both selected beanbags to lie on.

“Hello, Harry Potter,” the unicorn said. “My name is Rapid Recovery. I am here at the request of Mending Psyche. I need to ask you some important questions.”

Bleary-eyed, Harry nodded.

“When was the last time you can remember eating steak?”

“Um,” Harry said, still not wholly focused, “there was a platter of some for supper yesterday. I had a small piece, but mainly just had roast chicken.”

“Chicken, too?” Mending muttered as Rapid asked, “Only a small piece?”

“Yeah, Sweetie murdered the platter. It’s hard to properly enjoy a dish when she’s being aggressive.”

“Sweetie?” Rapid's eyes narrowed. “Is she also a pegasus?”

“No,” the colt said. Suddenly he jumped up spreading his wings to their fullest. With eyes wide open he exclaimed, “Sweetie Belle is a unicorn!” Somehow, he managed to sound somewhat surprised.

Rapid left Mending to deal with the disproportionate response. Rushing from the room, he focused on finding the pertinent ponies he needed to notify that they had a killer unicorn, practically a cannibal, by the name of "Sweetie Belle", on the loose. As the door closed behind him he heard, “Magah makes so much more sense now.”


“That’s not a clip-on!” Discord gasped.


Somewhere in cyberspace, after getting her daughter to help her work the newsreader, a former skeptic scoured for information on the world she had just discovered. Armed with new-found knowledge, she felt like she should write something after reading through alt.magic.secrets.

I’ve been reading what you people have ben saying. You’ve got some thongs wrong, but ar very close on other things. Like that spot in london you keep mentioning. Its a pub called Leacky Cauldron. You just have to have magic to see it. You can also can see it if you hold onto someone with magic. Just hold there hand. If you see a witch or wizard abroaching, just ask and they will most likely help you into the pub and even diegon alley behind it. Most are friendl , with some bad apples.

Happily, she sent the message. Pride at mastering the Usenet swelled in her. Now, she just had to figure out what in NTTP happened to her post.


“Thank you all for being here tonight,” Dumbledore said as he slipped behind the podium. “I apologize for my tardiness, but I had a bit of a situation pop up.” He looked over his halfmoon glasses. “I am sure most of you are not surprised that we are meeting so soon. Events of the past week must be discussed. So, without further ado, let us get to the business at hand. As you all are undoubtedly aware, we have a unicorn from the forest who has decided to take up residence. So far, this has proven to be a minor inconvenience; the elves have been more than happy to accommodate her. However, I charge each of you to keep an eye on the situation. It would be best to avoid any further surprises if at all possible.”

“Does having a unicorn turn into a human count as a surprise?” Mr. Goodman asked.

“My calculations show they won’t figure that one out for a couple more weeks yet,” Dumbledore replied. He was rewarded by a multitude of head shakes from the faculty, as well as a few discreet snickers. “Already? It would seem we have a truly remarkable set of first-years,” he commented.

Dumbledore scanned the room, noting everyone’s reactions. “In that vein, there will need to be an elevated level of caution when dealing with our newest Gryffindors. As the recent incident with Miss Warren has made abundantly clear, they have access to previously unknown spells. Furthermore, even though we have been guaranteed veto power by their previous source, we have been warned that they have an uncanny ability to overcome obstacles which that would deter any reasonable person. We have also been cautioned to never use the phrase ‘it simply cannot be done’ or anything similar while in their range of their hearing. In short, be careful of what ideas you give them. Explicitly explain the dangers when you warn them. Otherwise, you will be responsible for cleaning up the mess and explaining to the Unspeakables in excruciating detail the new and startling discovery.”

Murmurs coursed through the facility as they absorbed the news.


“She’s beautiful,” Emma breathed as her husband nodded in agreement.

Magah snorted and started to investigate the planters situated about the subterranean family room.

“Don’t you feed her?” Dan asked as he watched the unicorn express her distaste for plastic plants.

“She has plenty of hay back in the dorm room,” Lavender said.

“And she normally has a bag or two of oats at the supper table,” Seamus added helpfully.

“Supper that you skipped in favor of the mall?” Emma asked.

“Um, yeah,” Seamus said as several members of the herd groaned at the oversight.

“I’ll just pop over to the pa . . . er, corner shop and pick up something suitable, then,” Emma said, heading for the stairs. “Dan, why don’t you put on a movie for the children?”

“Movie?” Lavender said fearfully, and Parvati glared at Dean.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to choose one that was made to scare you,” Dan said in a reassuring tone. “Let's introduce you to a bit of swashbuckling adventure from a far-off galaxy.”

Unimpressed, Lavender clung to Hermione. With exaggerated breathing, Hermione said, "I find your lack of faith . . . oh, you'll love it."


“Here, I’m done with him.” The seventh-year dropped a blue blob into the hands of the third-year girl. “Thanks.”

Speechless, the young girl stared at her burden for a second before shoving Mouse into the hands of the fifth-year boy. “Here, you hold him. I don’t want to right now!”

The boy also looked down. He was not an expert on slime facial expressions, but he was positive Mouse was either traumatized or smug like no one’s business. Despite the scent of menthol, there was definitely something fishy. “How do you wash a slime?’ he asked, shivering.


Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie were traipsing down a street in Ponyville, together. Pinkie Pie pronked, reaching Rainbow Dash's altitude at the apex of each bounce. Abruptly, Pinkie halted in mid-hop, in complete defiance of gravity.

“Wait a minute!” she gasped.

“What?” Rainbow asked, doubling back with a quick wingover.

“Back when Twilight was rescuing ponies from George,” Pinkie started.

“Yeah?”

“The last two were Snips and Snails,” Pinkie continued.

“Yeah?”

“Why weren’t they in school?”

“Hey!” Rainbow said, narrowing her eyes.


“Thar, that should do it,” Applejack said, closing the primary flap on Lodestone’s pouch. “Jus' one more delivery an' we can call it a day.”

“Hoo,” Lodestone agreed helpfully.

“Ah know I said it before, but we really appreciate your willingness to do deliveries like this.” Applejack smiled.

“Hooo.” Lodestone blushed.

“Off ya go then, while it’s still warm.”


A seventh-year Hufflepuff looked at her dormmate, aghast, “Did you just?” she asked.

“Nah.” Her dormmate shook her head, trying to contain her laughter until after she reached the safety of their room. “I’m just messing with them.”

“You're cruel,” the first girl said. “So very, very cruel.”


Elisa Bates glared as her daughter entered their tiny apartment. “Where have you been?” she demanded.

“Sorry Mum; I got distracted at the bank.”

“Bank?” Elisa frowned.

“Yeah.”

“Since when do you have a bank account?” The frown deepened.

“They set me up with a vault today.”

“A vault?”

“For my tribute.” The girl nodded her head.

“Tribute?”

“The goblins insisted,” Abagail said.

“I’m sure they did,” Elisa said, “and the elves wanted to give you flowers as well, I suspect.”

“I don’t know if elves are real,” Abagail said sincerely. “I never thought to ask.”

“So, you were at a goblin bank all this time?” Elisa asked with barely constrained anger.

“Yes Mum,” Abagail said, “except when I went to get my wand.”

“Your wand?”

“Yeah, they don’t have staves.” Abagail brandished a fancily carved stick.

“And you paid for your wand with your tribute?”

“Yeah, and they gave me a few quid for dis-wash-ery spending, as well as the gold coins to buy my wand,” Abagail continued.

“They sound very generous,” Elisa said, eyes narrowing as she tired of the game.

“Yeah. Here, I guess it's grocery money.” Abagail reached into her jacket pocket, extracting a wad of paper to hand her mother.

Riffling through the stack, Elisa found the queen on one side and an architect on the other on each sheet. Aghast, she realized she was holding more than she made in a year.


In Hogwarts a small tower contained a locked room, inaccessible to students. Within the room, an ancient book lay on a pedestal. Beside the book was a silver inkwell that fed a ratty-looking quill. It was said no person had laid hands on the artifacts since the day they were secured in that cell.

Without prompting, the book creaked open, and the quill floated up to add a name to its yellowed pages.


Emma sat on the floor behind the couch and opened the fourth box of oat rings. Magah had started to slow down, no longer greedily inhaling the meal. She lay on the floor, muzzle buried in a large plastic bowl. The minimally-sweetened breakfast food had been a hit.

The children were clustered on the other side of the couch, enthralled by the story unfolding on the screen. Well, most of them were. Hermione, Dean, and Seamus were more entertained by the reactions of their friends than by the movie itself.

The phoenix was perched on the couch back, watching Emma feed the unicorn. She gave a questioning chirp. In response, Emma offered a handful of cereal. The bird sniffed at the tiny rings and then turned up her beak.

“Sweetie,” Emma called, “when was the last time you fed your phoenix?”

“She had half of a roast beef sandwich for lunch,” Sweetie Belle answered.

“So, you skipped her supper as well?” Emma asked.

“Maybe we should order a pizza,” Dean suggested.

“Hey?” Sweetie thought out loud. “Do they have pizza with meat on them?”

“Of course,” Dean said, not surprised.

Suddenly, an owl flew into the room. It didn’t fly in through a window; there were none to begin with. It didn’t fly through the wall; the walls weren't on its flight path. It flew from somewhere that was not here, and not quite there. In technical terms, it came in from an orthogonal dimension; in layman's terms, you couldn't get here from there. The appearance made all of the individuals unlucky enough to have noticed cross their eyes as they focused on something they did not comprehend.

The large owl perched on the couch back, next the phoenix, and stared directly at Apple Bloom. “Hooo.”

Apple Bloom blinked rapidly several times before accepting the letter the owl was carrying along with a pouch strapped to its breast.

“What is it?” Scootaloo asked from where she was curled up on Ron’s lap.

“It’s from mah sister.” Apple Bloom said guiltily, “She says it would be mighty thoughtful if ah’d consider writing her a letter ever now and then.”

“D'oh!” Neville grunted. “I should probably write Gran, too.”

“Rarity would probably like one as well,” Sweetie noted as she looked expectantly at Parvati.

“What?” Parvati asked. “I wrote home just yesterday.”

“You’re not making us feel better about our forgetfulness,” Seamus noted.

“Was I supposed to?” Parvati asked.

“Ooo,” Apple Bloom said, opening the first flap on the owl’s pouch, “she sent pie.” She pulled out a large apple pie and handed it to the nearest herd mate. “An’ apple fritters.” Another platter was produced. “An’ apple strudel, an’ apple lasagna.”

“Wait?” Lavender said, tearing her gaze away from the television. “What was that last one?”

“Apple lasagna,” Hermione answered. “Ron, don’t even think of it. Wait until I get some plates and napkins.”

“’Nother pie.” Apple Bloom resumed. “An’ apple crisps. An’ apple soufflé.”

“I’m starting to sense a pattern,” Dan said from the bottom of the stairs. He was holding a stack of flat cardboard boxes.

“You got pizza that quick?” Dean was perplexed.

“I ordered them right after starting the film,” Dan said. “They just got here.”

Philomena liberated the box on the top of the stack and helped herself to sausage and anchovy while tossing the pineapple and banana aside.

“Apple ravioli!” came a gleeful cry.


Mending had a decidedly green tinge on her face when she again left Harry alone with his thoughts and the riot of colors. He had settled down quickly after his outburst. Sweetie Belle was a unicorn. Mentally, he kicked himself. How could he not have seen it earlier? It wasn't as though he hadn't witnessed her mother turn into a unicorn. That should have been the clincher.

All of her idiosyncrasies finally made sense. She wasn't a feral unicorn like Magah; she was very much a person, just like the hospital staff, but still, she was a unicorn, albeit transformed into a human. The clues had been staring him in the face all along: Anypony? Everypony? The revulsion she displayed whenever anyone suggested Magah was a pet? The wildly colored hair? After seeing all of the gaily-colored manes and tails, how had he not thought of the hair after he arrived in Equestria?

Sweetie Belle was a unicorn. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter to him. She was still Sweetie, the friend he'd come to know over the past week. He ruffled his wings irritably. What was actually bothering him was that this was all a bit much to take in. After all, one doesn't expect to look at a girl and say to oneself, "You know, I think she's a unicorn."

He’d bet his entire vault that Scootaloo was a pegasus.

Once again, the door opened. This time, instead of Mending, a trio of unicorns entered, towering over him. They were easily the largest he had seen yet. As he looked in awe, he noticed that they had wings as well as horns.

“Hello Harry Potter,” the largest, the white one said. “My name is Celestia. I am a princess of this realm, as are my sister, Luna, and my niece, Mi Amore Cadenza. She prefers to go by Cadance.”

“Hello.” Harry said standing clumsily on his beanbag and face planting when he tried to bow.

Celestia gave him a warm smile. “Welcome to Equestria.”

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