• 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 5: Continuing to Fit in

Author's Note:

I would like to extend my thanks to rich-online. He has been helping me with proof reading and donating ideas. You can see his efforts in the first four chapters , already

As such, I would encourage everyone to write a small thanks to him, in the comments. Anyone willing to make the experience better for all, deserves some appreciation.

Signs of rain threatened the afternoon. The ozone was rising, and it didn’t take a pegasus to know that a storm was coming. Scootaloo scanned the horizon from where she perched on her broom. The storm clouds were readily visible, but she could see no pony directing them. This felt like a storm coming from the Everfree. That couldn’t be good. She hadn’t been in the air for ten minutes yet, and she was going to have to cut her outing short. She wasn’t on the weather team and wasn’t about to fly during a storm at this point in time.

Reluctantly, Scootaloo approached the Burrow. She wouldn’t be exploring the limits of her new broom anymore today. It was a pity, but she could still be with her friends. She was enjoying her time as a human. It was almost unthinkable that just three days ago she hadn’t even heard of one. Her adjustment to her new skin was almost absolutely complete in such a short period of time.

As she landed, she marveled at how her fingers grasped the broom handle. It was so effortless, and she could empathize with Spike’s pride over his claws. The awareness of all the things she had been doing with her fingers hit her suddenly. She supposed that the pendants had been teaching them habits as well as changing their forms. Humans seemed to do everything with their fingers. At that point, another realization hit her. They did everything with their fingers.

Scootaloo entered the Weasleys’ family room, acutely aware of her surroundings. It was just as cluttered and lived-in as when she had left just ten minutes ago. The light from outside was dimming as the storm approached, although the chess players didn’t seem to notice. Ginny was moving a piece on the board for her and Sweetie’s turn; she used her fingers. Ron barely paused before taking his turn; he used his fingers as well.

Scootaloo unshrunk her trunk to stow her broom and retrieve some writing supplies. As casually as she could, she wandered over to the game in progress. Of course, that meant everyone was looking at her suspiciously by the time she got there. Scootaloo was less subtle than the proverbial brick upside the head.

“Ginny,” she said, handing her the paper and quill, “would you mind writing down something for me?”

Confused, Ginny took the proffered paper and said, “What do you want me to write?”

“I don’t know, anything that comes to mind.”

Ginny thought for a few seconds then wrote, “Chudley Cannons are the worst.” She wrote using her fingers.

Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened as she realized what Scootaloo was doing. Horsefeathers! Had they notic-

“Will that do?” Ginny asked. “I hope you didn’t want me to use my mouth like you did.”

Yup, they noticed.

Ron saw what Ginny had written and started to defend the Cannons loudly. To which, Ginny gladly egged him on by stating facts about their record.

There was a flash of green and Molly stepped out of the fireplace. “Ron! Ginny! Stop your bickering this instant!”

“But Mum!” Ron complained while Ginny just wore a smug look, “Ginny was bad mouthing the Cannons!”

“Ron,” was said in Molly’s warning voice. Ron shut up and pouted. As if on cue, the first thunderclap could be heard from outside.

Glancing out the window, Molly said, “I was half way convinced you lot would be outside trying to play Quidditch in the rain. Good to see you all had enough sense to come in before you got wet.”

“They wouldn’t call a professional match on account of rain,” Ron muttered, crossing his arms.

“Where’d you go, Mum?” Ginny asked at the same time.

“The girls had some purchases that needed pick up from Diagon Alley.” Molly patted her skirt pocket while glaring at Ron. “Go and fetch Apple Bloom, and we’ll get this all sorted away. It would be best if we did this in Ginny’s room.”

Molly led the two fillies up the stairs. On the next floor was a small, but bright, room that overlooked the orchard. It was well-kept and lacked the clutter associated with the downstairs living area.

“In here, dears,” Molly gestured, “and we’ll be needing those trunks of yours.” Seeing that there wouldn’t be enough room to accommodate the upcoming task, Molly took a minute to wave her wand and intone some strange words. The room then, for lack of a better word, grew out in every direction. Soon, there was four times more space to work with than they started with. Nodding to herself with satisfaction, Molly finished just as Apple Bloom and Ginny entered the room.

“Place your trunks over there and I’ll unshrink your clothes.” Mrs. Weasley then reached into her pocket and retrieved a great number of shrunk shopping parcels. “You’ve got quite a bit to sort through here.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo groaned as Sweetie Belle and Ginny clapped in glee. They then proceeded to spend the afternoon sorting and packing clothes. All thoughts of writing styles were forgotten for the time being. Apple Bloom was even pleasantly surprised to find a box full of replacement bows.


Ginny’s day had been wonderful, without even taking the brooms into the reckoning; she had made three new friends. When most of her socializing was with her brothers, with only a few visits to the Lovegoods, the experience was something to be cherished. True, they all seemed less feminine than Mum insisted was proper for young ladies, but Ginny was beginning to get the impression that she didn’t particularly care to be a proper young lady anyway. She wanted to follow her brothers onto the Quidditch field. She wanted to wrestle dragons with Charlie. She wanted to explore dusty tombs with Bill. She didn’t want to study all day like her brother Percy, though.

Her role models were all male. This conflicted with her mother, who had been trying to get her interested in keeping house. Repeatedly, Molly stated that taking care of a family was a noble undertaking, emphasizing her point by showing Ginny the common charms for house care and teaching her how to prepare meals. Ginny was finding this was not what she wanted.

Meeting her family’s houseguests had introduced her to several revolutionary ideas. The first shock was that not all girls were taught how to cook. While the girls were sorting clothes, it had come to light that Scootaloo didn’t know much more about cooking than throwing a can of soup over a fire. Apple Bloom, by contrast, said she was well-accustomed to helping her older sister and grandmother in the kitchen. All the while, she gave the impression that cooking was something she did and maybe even enjoyed, but was not something that defined her.

When Ginny had asked after Sweetie Belle’s cooking experience, Apple Bloom had insisted that Ginny really didn’t want to know and that Sweetie Belle couldn’t cook.

Sweetie Belle had pouted at this but said nothing.

Ginny’s second surprise came in the form of roughhousing. Whatever Sweetie Belle had said to incite didn’t register to Ginny, but the result was Scootaloo jumping Sweetie Belle. After a few seconds of them rolling around on the floor, Apple Bloom joined in. That Apple Bloom was physically the strongest, and most capable, wrestler was hastily evident, as she soon had both of the other two collectively pinned and was admonishing them to behave since they were guests.

Ginny could not imagine such a scene with her and Luna. Wrestling was something the boys did when Mum wasn’t looking. It definitely did not make the list of activities for proper young ladies.

Wonderment number three was the sheer number of other children they mentioned in passing. Ginny counted twelve different individuals, all with names as weird as the three girls’. All names were said to belong to one classmate or another, children their age.

This was a stark contrast to Ginny’s existence. Ginny wasn’t sure if she knew twelve children, if you didn’t count her brothers. She was beginning to comprehend the isolation enforced upon her by the wizarding world’s ideology, even if she wouldn’t have put it in those terms.

Still, meeting and socializing with three new individuals her own age was an exhilaratingly novel experience, so much so that Ginny didn’t recognize that it should have been routine. Any student of human nature could have pointed out how debilitating it was to isolate wizardly children. They would point out that this was why the majority were so misinformed about the rest of the world and not curious enough to go look. Unfortunately, this dealt with a subset of muggle science, and everyone knows that wizards have no use for muggle science. The end result was another generation stifled and kept ignorant by the arrogance and fears of their elders.

Regardless, Ginny’s day had been wonderful.


Supper at the Weasleys’ was a large family affair; everyone was present, including Mr. Weasley, who had returned as cheerfully as he had left. The table groaned under the weight of the meal as everyone sat.

Ginny was relating to all that Scootaloo had a pretty new orange blouse, which was surprisingly lovely when matched with her purple hair. All of the Weasley boys, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo were doing their best to simultaneously tune her out and silently beg Sweetie Belle to stop encouraging her.

There was a mutual unvoiced consent among the children that brooms were not to be brought up as a topic for conversation due to the nature of their acquisition.

“Professor McGonagall tells me that you are foreigners,” Mr. Weasley said after swallowing a bite, “coming to Britain for a Hogwarts education.”

The girls nodded their heads; Apple Bloom didn’t even bother to stop eating.

“By your accents,” Molly observed, “I’d imagine you’re from America.”

This got blank looks from Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.

“Okay,” Scootaloo said as Apple Bloom continued eating.

Ron was bewildered. Normally he’d have the king’s ration of peas, one of his favorite vegetables. None of his brothers or sister cared much for them, so after his Mum and Pop took their share he could claim the rest of the bowl as his own. This time, he swore he only blinked, and the bowl was almost empty.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley watched her family and her guests enjoy her efforts. It warmed her heart to see her cooking being appreciated. Molly did witness that the girls had a strange mixture of eating habits, though. At one end of the spectrum was Scootaloo. She ate with almost no restraint, using her fingers as much as she used her fork or spoon. Some eating etiquette would need to be imparted on her. Again, it was a pity they’d only be staying there for a couple of days.

Nearby, Apple Bloom was giving Ron a competition on who could eat the most, yet, at the same time, she ate with a certain practiced grace and precision that spoke of a big family and big meals. If her hair had been just been a few shades less bright, you could easily have mistaken her as one of Molly’s own.

Sweetie Belle, on the other hand, ate with a distinct daintiness. She took small bites and chewed her food thoroughly. Mrs. Weasley could imagine she was used to wiping her mouth on a napkin after every other mouthful.

Nevertheless, one thing was universally lacking for all three of them, more so Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle than Apple Bloom, but still noticeable. On each plate lay an almost unheard of treat in the Weasley household, a slice of Beef Wellington, rare and juicy, paid for by the small stipend Minerva had provided as show of thanks for taking in the children.

Clearing her throat, Mrs. Weasley laid down the law. “Girls, if you want dessert you will have to eat your meat.” Three sets of eyes focused on her questioningly, so she clarified, “If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?”

“We’re good without pudding,” Sweetie Belle offered, eyeing the meat on her plate with distrust. Scootaloo nodded her head in agreement while Apple Bloom tentatively poked her serving with her fork before shrugging and making her meat disappear.

“Dear,” Molly managed to place her hands on her hips even though she was still sitting, “you’re so small. You need to eat your meat to grow up big and strong.”

“Mum,” Ginny interrupted, “they don’t seem to eat much meat where they come from. The chicken from lunch was a chore for them.”

“Perhaps,” Molly said, not backing down, “but it would be a waste of a nice healthy meal. A meal that will do them some amount of good, at that.”

Rarity had said the exact same thing about eating her hay, making her big and strong. That insight made Sweetie Belle immediately recognize her position as a losing argument. Sighing, she took a nibble of the offending substance and chewed. Dang, that was genuinely rather appetizing.

Scootaloo was still unconvinced. “What if I want to be small and quick instead?”

Molly gave her a look. It was that look that any mother can give. The look doesn’t have an explicit name or anything, but anyone with a mother knows “that look”. Scootaloo, however, wasn’t accustomed to “that look” and found she desperately didn’t want to be the recipient of said look. It looked like Scootaloo would be getting her pudding after all.


After supper, Apple Bloom again vanished up the stairs with the twins. Ron immediately challenged Sweetie Belle and Ginny to chess once more.

This left Scootaloo to lie down on the floor next to the game and do some drawing. She decided to use her fingers and see what she could make of drawing Diagon Alley. The level of control she found she had was decidedly superior to anything she had experienced before. One more time she found herself empathizing with Spike and his claws. She imagined she could now do things she once would have had to call a unicorn for. This new form of hers had uses other than just fitting in with her current environment.

Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, had discovered that chess was played with the exact same rules as back in Equestria. The only difference was a certain aspect of elevated violence. With morbid fascination, she watched Ron’s knight lop the head off a pawn and drag the body off the board. Only the knowledge that the pawn would be put back together unharmed for the next game stopped her from shrieking in horror.

Still, it was enough to distract away from the reality that Ron was systematically destroying her and Ginny’s best efforts.

By and by time passed, and it came to the hour to get ready for bed. Molly ordered the children to their rooms for the night, stating that she would be up in a bit to transform a bed for the girls. The offer was politely declined as the girls stated that they had beds inside their trunks.

Once in Ginny’s room, Apple Bloom set her trunk in the corner and popped the lid. She quickly disappeared inside, followed closely by Scootaloo and then Sweetie Belle.

“Come on Ginny,” Sweetie Belle called as she entered. “We’ve time for a bath before bed.”

Intrigued, Ginny followed them into Apple Bloom’s trunk and found herself in a well-appointed sitting room. It was colored in warm yellows and browns and had a small unlit fireplace. The atmosphere that it oozed was that akin to hunting lodge. This quality was enforced by a small attached kitchen with a cold cupboard and stove, both of which would not have been out of place in a cabin. There were two doors leading to different rooms, and, through the open one, Sweetie Belle beckoned for her to follow.

The bathroom was dominated by a large white tub sunk into the floor. It was large enough for four adults, let alone four little girls. Apple Bloom was already filling it with steaming water.

“Not so hot!” Scootaloo complained as she began removing her clothes. Apple Bloom snorted and adjusted the water temperature.

Ginny copied the fillies and was in the tub with them in a matter of minutes. Then the strangest thing happened. Scootaloo started washing Sweetie Belle, who started washing Apple Bloom, who started washing Ginny. They just picked up washcloths and soap and went to work without so much as a by your leave.

With a start, Ginny realized that Scootaloo was looking at her expectantly. Hastily retrieving another washcloth, Ginny got to work as well.

“We are going to try that lilac shampoo tonight,” Sweetie Belle commanded as she worked on Apple Blooms back. “Then you’re going to start a conditioning regimen.”

“Shouldn’t have we done exercises before taking a bath?” Apple Bloom admonished, not wanting to have wasted the effort of getting clean.

It turned out that Sweetie Belle was talking about sitting in the tub with slimy stuff in their hair. It got rinsed out eventually but the process didn’t really count as exercise.

After their bath, the girls patted each other dry with big, fluffy yellow towels. Ginny marveled at how they worked seamlessly yet absently on each other. They didn’t even seem to be conscious of their own actions as Scootaloo excitedly led a conversation on flying the next day. Was this what it was like to have sisters?

As soon as they were dry, Scootaloo led the way into the adjacent bedroom. There was only one bed inside, but it was more than large enough for all four. The fillies climbed into the bed and Apple Bloom motioned for Ginny to follow.

By this time, Ginny was only mildly surprised that they were doing this naked, but since they were all girls it didn’t matter. She clamored in, on the end next to Scootaloo.

“Night girls,” Apple Bloom announced. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo echoed her, and a second later, so did Ginny.

There were a few seconds of silence then Sweetie Belle asked, “Doesn’t anypony know how to turn off the light?”

“Anypony?” Ginny thought as she reached over to the nightstand and triggered the room’s lights.

Ginny curled up to Scootaloo as she considered her day. Three girls she barely knew had accepted her without question. They had even bought her a broom. When they were buying their own brooms, Apple Bloom had specifically stated that Ginny was to get one too. Her mother had taught her, as a matter of pride, not to accept charity, but it was a Nimbus 2000. Scootaloo had bought it and seven others without even blinking. The day had been surreal.

Ginny quickly fell asleep, dreaming of riding her new broom given to her by her new friends.

Scootaloo felt Ginny snuggle up closer to her as she considered her day. She had flown! If nothing else came from this quest that Discord had helped them start, she had flown. The eating of meat, the scary goblin, the practice drawing with her fingers, they all paled before the fact that she had taken to the air under her own power.

Smiling Scootaloo fell asleep, dreaming of riding her new broom.

Sweetie Belle lay in the comfy bed and considered her day. She was currently a human. Humans ate meat. Was it worth it to learn magic? They had said they don’t eat intelligent prey. But they eat beef. Beef was cow. She knew several cows back home. True it was hard to call them intelligent; heck, a snake could spook them into a stampede. But the meat at dinner had been tasty. What exactly did that say about her?

Sweetie Belle fell asleep, dreaming of being a human, hiding in the tall grass. As she parted the blades before her, she spied an innocent cow munching on landscape. Sweetie smiled as she approached. In her hands were a fork and a knife.

Apple Bloom burrowed under the blankets and thought that day had been fun. She quickly fell asleep, not wanting to waste her down time thinking. She dreamt of apples.


Ginny woke up. There was someone in bed with her! Panicking, she opened her eyes and got a face full of purple hair. She went stiff as the memories of where she was slowly penetrated her sleep-addled mind. Relaxing, she smiled in contentment and fell back to sleep.

Sweetie Belle listened to Ginny’s breathing even out as the redhead returned to sleep. She hadn’t meant to wake the Weasley as she had climbed over her on the way out of bed. It was early, but Sweetie suspected that Mrs. Weasley would be starting on breakfast soon. Sweetie Belle was going to offer her assistance. After all, wasn’t that the polite thing to do as a guest?

Out of the trunk she climbed as quietly as possible. She closed the lid and started padding over to Ginny’s bedroom door. She had her hand on the door knob when she remembered that humans always wear clothes. Retreating back into the room, she proceeded to dress herself from the contents of her own trunk. Eventually, they would have to figure out how humans washed their clothes. That was a riddle for another time. Now was the time to cook!


Mr. Weasley was getting ready for work. Specifically, he was shaving, running his wand over his chin to remove the stubble. That’s when he smelled it -- SMOKE! He smelled smoke! It was too early for the twins to be messing with potions in their room. No, this was the distinct smell of something burning!

Arthur dashed down the stairs, pausing briefly at each level to verify the smoke wasn’t coming from it. In short order, he was on the ground floor. There was soot coming from the kitchen, but it looked like Molly had already taken care of the cause. She was currently hugging a crying Sweetie Belle.

It appeared that Sweetie Belle had offered to help cook breakfast, an offer Molly had been only too glad to accept. There had been an unforeseeable complication with the hash browns, forcing Molly to vanish them. While it was no great loss, Sweetie Belle was taking the failure rather harshly.

“There, there, dear.” Molly ran her hand through Sweetie’s mauve and pink hair. “It’s only some potatoes. We have plenty. Let’s give it another try, shall we?”

There were to be hash browns for breakfast; they were misshapen, runny, unevenly cooked, and a funny color, but there were hash browns for breakfast.


Once again, the Weasley clan gathered to break their fast around the large oaken table. There was an ambience of excitement, as the children had one more day of freedom before school began. Food disappeared rapidly as they rushed to go about their day.

“What are your plans for today?” Mr. Weasley asked of the gathering.

“Quidditch,” one twin said.

“Of course.” said the other

“But first,”

“We need to teach Apple Bloom”

“How to miss”

“Trees,” both of them completed together.

It’s doubtful Apple Bloom heard them as she was engaged in yet another match with Ron. One that Ron was clearly winning as he had avoided the hash browns due to not recognizing them as his mother’s cooking. Apple Bloom, before she took her first bite, had failed to recognize them as Sweetie’s.

“You need to be careful with that.” Arthur fixed the twins with a smile. “Make sure Percy is present.”

The twins nodded their acceptance. “Yes father,” they acknowledged.


They had barely reached the orchard when Scootaloo exploded into the air. None thought she’d be joining them soon. Instead they concentrated on bringing Apple Bloom up to speed.

Their first attempt ended with Apple Bloom being deposited into the pond. The irked frogs croaked their annoyance at the intrusion.

The second attempt reacquainted Apple Bloom with the cherry tree. Somehow, she had managed to avoid being covered in sap.

The third left a furrow in the ground two yards long. The fourth and fifth left Apple Bloom rather embarrassed.

However, nopony would ever accuse any member of the CMC of being a quitter. There were several other things they might be called. Some things that sounded suspiciously like “rambunctious”, or “menace” or maybe even “what in Celestia’s name was that?”, but never quitters . . . no, definitely never quitters.

Somewhere around the seventeenth endeavor, Apple Bloom managed some semblance of control. She still wobbled awkwardly, but at least she wasn’t crashing. It was almost as if the broom was telling her that she belonged on the ground as she attempted to whip it into submission.

“That has got to have been,”

“The most eventful”

“And painful”

“Inaugural flying undertaking”

“Since Merlin,” was the commentary offered upon her ‘success’.

Ron then introduced her to a ball, called a quaffle, by tossing it to her. This resulted in her losing control and taking another dip in the pond.

It was then agreed that Quidditch was to be put on hold until she had enough control not to be a menace to herself or others.

In the meantime, Sweetie Belle had become passingly familiar with flying. A phrase she would not have ever thought applying to herself before. She and Ginny darted among the trees in an impromptu game of tag, with Ginny being the noticeably better flyer of the two.

As for Scootaloo, she spent the morning high above the others, dancing. Percy, in his role of responsible older sibling, kept watch.

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