• Published 23rd Apr 2017
  • 15,326 Views, 7,166 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 64: Home, Hearth, and Heartbreak

The back seat of the rickety Mini Mk. IV was the battleground where countless skirmishes of sibling rivalries had erupted. It didn't matter whether the trip were long or short. The younger Thomas sisters would find an excuse to raise Cain before they reached their destination. Having their older brother, who had just come home from boarding school for the first time in three months, in the car did nothing to quench the flames.

Sandwiched between his sisters, Dean rolled his eyes as Eva snickered, "Pretty pink pegasus pony!" He had long ago abandoned his attempt to persuade her that the proper color was fuchsia.

“I wanna play with your wand,” Rosie whined pitifully at her older brother, her face set with stubborn determination.

“I told you, I can’t do magic outside of school. I’ll get in trouble,” Dean snapped, his patience waning. “You’ll just have to wait until you go to Hogwarts and get your own wand to play with.”

“I wanna play now!” Rosie snapped in return. “I can’t wait that long.”

“Rosie!” Dean’s father snapped from the front passenger seat. “Enough!”

Rosie crossed her arms, her face going red with anger. “We’re not getting toys this year. Dean has gotta share his,” she demanded.

“A wand is not a toy,” Dean’s mother called out.

“Wait? We're not getting toys this year?” Dean asked.

Dean’s father sighed. “I’m sorry, Dean. After paying for your schooling and some other unexpected expenses, we’re a little strapped for cash this year. I’m afraid Father Christmas will be bringing socks and underwear. We’ll manage, but it will mean tightening our belts for a couple months.”

“The car broke down,” Eva informed Dean. “We’re probably having spaghetti and beans for supper again tonight.”

“Spaghetti and beans?” Dean said. “I haven’t had spaghetti since going to school.”

“I’m sick of spaghetti,” Rosie announced, arms still crossed.

“Well, you're getting a break from it tonight,” Dean’s mum said. “I’ll be making something special in celebration of your brother coming home for break.”

“Yeah!” Rosie bounced. “I want steak and kidney pie.”

“You're close,” Dean’s father said. “It’s mock shepherd’s pie.”

“We didn't have enough to buy mince; maybe we’ll be able to manage a proper steak and kidney pie next week,” Dean’s mum added.

“I think I have a roasting joint and some offal in my trunk,” Dean helpfully offered.

“You're keeping food in your trunk?” Dean’s father winced. “It’s most likely spoiled after that train ride.”

“Nah.” Dean shook his head. “My trunk came with a week's worth of groceries for a family of four, and they’re under stasis spells for freshness.”

“I don’t remember the salesman mentioning that perk,” Dean’s mum said. “That does increase the worth of a student’s trunk. If we had known, we’d be buying those instead of going to the grocers every two weeks.”

“Oh, they don’t come with a student trunk,” Dean said. “Apple, Sweetie, and Scoot got us all new trunks as a present.”

“That was awful generous of them,” Dean’s mum said.

“They like giving presents.” Dean frowned. “Maybe a little too much, really. They are constantly dragging us to the mall to play dress up. All of the clothes I brought with me have mysteriously vanished.”

Dean’s father chuckled. “Is that right? Sounds like normal behavior. Which is your girlfriend?”

Dean thought for a second before replying. “All of them?”

“Aiming high, I see.” Dean’s father smiled. “That’s my boy. He has three girls vying for his attention.”

“There are nine girls in the Gryffindor herd,” Dean informed him.

“Plan on keeping them all for yourself then?” Dean’s mum joined her husband in chuckling.

“I have to share them with the other blokes, I guess,” Dean relented.

“Of course, you do dear.” The humor left Dean's mum's voice. “I look forward to hearing how you work that out when you're older. But, seriously now, you have groceries in your trunk you’re willing to share?”

“Yes, Mum. They are in the kitchen. We managed to keep Sweetie out.”

“. . . What?”

What the Lunar Ballroom lacked in size it made up in privacy. Still, it was one of the larger rooms in Canterlot Castle, and it was now packed full of ponies as the owl-borne pouch had released its contents with a belch that rattled the one-way stained glass windows. With unfailing accuracy, small ponies and one large pet gravitated to their individual family members, leaving a small yellow unicorn to face a group of nervously smiling elders. Lacking any hesitation, one of the mares stepped forward to address the filly.

“Hello, Clouded Hope,” she softly said. “My name is Twilight Velvet. I am your grandmare.”

The filly stared at the older mare, frowning and not moving from her spot.

One of the stallions nudged the other, encouraging him to step forward as well.

“Hello, Clouded Hope,” the strapping young stallion said, copying his mother before taking a deep breath. “My name is Shining Armor, and I’m your father.”

Clouded Hope switched her glare to him, continuing to frown. He continued to smile hopefully, waiting for a response. A full minute passed in a silent standoff, making the older pony wilt under the gaze of the younger. Shuffling his hooves uncomfortably, he tried again. “Clouded Hope?”

The young filly took a step backwards before proclaiming, “You’re not my father! Standard Issue is!” She then spun on her hind hooves and stalked through the nearest door, rushing to get away.

After the door slammed shut, the elder stallion of the group let out a disappointed sigh. “That could have gone better.”

“Perhaps you should go after her,” Twilight Velvet said, nudging Shining.

“Don’t bother,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Give her some time to cool down."

Velvet glared at her daughter. "How can you be so heartless? Do you have any idea where that filly could wander off to? In her state, do you know what sort of trouble she could stumble into?"

"Mops." *crash* "That's the custodian's closet."

“It is?”



“Though, that was exceedingly cliché when you stop to think about it,” Twilight Sparkle continued.

“Twilight,” the senior Twilight reprimanded.

“What?” the younger Twilight protested. “It was.”

“Now is not the time to complain about overused tropes,” her father sternly warned her.

The crisp Ponyville air didn’t hold the same bone-numbing chill of either the Scottish Highlands or London proper, but winter still made its presence known. Since fur coats were de rigueur, most citizens only added a scarf and maybe a hat as a concession to the lower temperatures. Ponies wandered about town, going about their business as they would on any normal day in this season. For one pair of ponies, however, the imminent arrival of the Canterlot Local had given impetus to their vandalism. An earth pony mare held up a mouth-painted sign with her forehooves while her unicorn partner nailed it onto a support column, holding a claw hammer in her magic.

“Vinyl,” the exasperated dark grey earth pony of the pair said, “I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

“You can’t be serious Octie,” the white unicorn with an electric blue mane replied. “You’re still having nightmares over your encounter with George. Heck, you go out of your way to avoid Rarity’s place.”

Octavia shivered before lying. “I do not.”

“Well then, let’s go browse her wares when we’re done here. I know you like trying on new dresses.”

A shudder ran down the spine of the earth pony. “Sure,” she said unconvincingly. “We could do that.”

Vinyl was spared the need to reply when one of the carriages disgorged its occupants. A large group was the most notable; it consisted of four of the six Element Bearers, a mint green unicorn, a large humanworld unicorn, six foals, and three human colts.

“Lookie thar,” Apple Bloom said, pointing to the sign Vinyl had just posted.

“All pony-eating luggage must be kept on a leash,” Sweetie Belle read in surprise.

“I wonder if the straps on our bookbags count as leashes,” Harry wondered out loud.

Vinyl turned to look at Octavia and pointed an accusatory hoof at Harry as the other group continued their conversation.

“Why is that even a thing?” Fred asked, running a hand through his red hair.

“They passed the ordinance at a town meeting several months ago,” Spike said with a sigh. “Rarity left George out by the front of her shop so he could enjoy the last of the good weather and sun himself. She even had a sign that read ‘Pony-eating chest, do not touch. Seriously, this is not a joke. George will eat you.’”

“Didn’t work very well, did it?” George Weasley asked.

“Au contraire.” Rarity waved a dismissive hoof. “Most of the townsponies were already well aware of George. It did, however, have the benefit of drawing out-of-towners intent on seeing a pony-eating chest for themselves. It has been a surprising boon for business. Though, in retrospect, copying an idea from Pinkie wasn’t the sanest thing I’ve ever done.”

“And watching ponies meet George for the first time is still hilarious,” Pinkie added; the fact that she hadn’t been there a split-second ago drew some attention.

The gathered ponies all turned to stare at Pinkie.

“When did you get here?” Percy voiced the thought running through the group's minds.

“Just now, silly,” Pinkie chirped, bouncing in place. “I just had to invite you all to the ‘Welcome Back from School (even though it’s only for a short time seeing how you’re only here for winter break)’ party that I’m throwing the day after tomorrow.” She stopped bouncing and zipped off. “I’ve got to go now, work to do don’t you know. See ya.”

There was some eye-blinking. Then, Fred ventured, “Is she. . .”

“Yes.” All of the Ponyville natives answered the half-asked question.

“How. . .” George followed up.

“It’s best not to ask,” the Ponyville natives chorused.

“But. . .” Percy said, pointing a finger in the direction of the retreating pink mare.

“That was just Pinkie being Pinkie.” The ponies cut him off.

“Percy Weasley? Is that you?” A female voice intruded before any reply could be given.

Turning, Percy beheld three mares staring at him expectantly. “Gracious? Bristle? Lace? I wasn’t expecting you to be waiting for me here.”

“You didn’t think we’d wait any longer than we had too, to see you again?” Bristle asked as Gracious trotted right up to Percy, standing on her hind legs to place her forehooves on Percy’s chest for balance.

“This is your human form then?” Dainty Lace mused, looking up at the taller male. “I can get used to it.”

“Why aren’t you a pony right now?” Gracious sharply asked, caressing his chest with her hooves.

“I didn’t want Fred and George to feel left out. They haven’t got their rings yet.”

“Well, don’t keep us waiting,” Gracious said. “Go ahead and change.”

“Gracious,” Dainty Lace admonished, “don’t scare him off again. Foal steps.”

Gracious huffed and dropped back down to four hooves. “Would you mind changing? We’d love to see you in your pony form,” she said in a much lighter tone.

“That’s better.” Bristle nodded, approvingly. “Percy Weasley, would you care to accompany us to Sugarcube Corner? A nice cup of hot cocoa would go down nicely right about now.”

“'Ere now, you girls need to slow down a bit. He jus’ got here an' hasn’t even had a chance to settle in yet,” Applejack objected.

In response, the three younger mares shot her withering glares.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Applejack let her eyes narrow. “While he’s here, he’s mah responsibility, mah kin. Don’t think Ah’m jus gonna let ya waltz right over an’ have yer way with him.”

The three mares’ ears flattened against their heads as the news sank in. “Sorry, Miss Applejack,” Dainty said for the group. “We didn’t mean to be so aggressive.”

“Ah know the score,” Applejack said. “Take it down a notch or two, ya hear?”

“Yes ma’am,” the three chorused, taking a respectful step back from Percy.

“Don’t worry,” Twilight said helpfully. “The social dynamics for humans are different than pony norms. Just give him some space and you’ll get what you want.”

“Twilight,” Applejack growled, “don’t encourage them.”


The large table in the drawing room of stately Black Manor had a half-completed puzzle sitting on it, with a lone member of the Tonks family diligently working at filling in the holes. She was less than surprised when an owl flew into the room wearing a satchel. Since the wards redirected owls not associated with people keyed to the wards, she assumed that it was sent by Sirius’s lady. Absently, Andromeda Tonks reached out with her wand to tap the pouch.

“Ex dimittere,” she said, almost as an afterthought.

With a fraternity-worthy belch, three ponies were deposited into the room. They all stared at her, expecting some reaction and obviously disappointed that they weren’t getting one.

“Yes?” Andromeda asked, studying the small horses. One was a brown unicorn and obviously male. The second was a light blue earth pony, female, and the third, also female, was another unicorn, but her coat was a chaotic swirl of clashing colors. “May I help you?”

“I can’t believe you!” the colorful unicorn exclaimed. “Three ponies pop out of a bag, and all you have to say is ‘Yes, may I help you.’”

“Nymphadora?” Andi asked, recognizing the voice. “Is that you? When you said you were going away for advanced schooling, you failed to mention it would be in Equestria. Welcome home. I missed you.”

“Your mother’s reaction is not what I was hoping for,” the male unicorn said.

“I’ll say,” the earth pony agreed.

“Yes, mum, it’s me. We’re home for Christmas break.” Nymphadora scowled. “Why aren’t you more surprised?”

Andi chuckled. “Sirius is dating a unicorn. She’s over all the time and I guess I’ve gotten used to the notion.”

“Dating a unicorn?” the male said. “He does realize that they come in swarms, doesn’t he? There really isn’t such a thing as dating just a unicorn.” He placed substantial emphasis on the last "a".

“Really now?” Andi asked doubtfully.

“Yes,” the earth pony said, wincing, as Andi placed her voice as Nymphadora’s friend Clementine's, “they get upset at the idea of one guy for one girl. They insist that each stallion gets at the very least two mares.”

“Oh?” Andi said and a sly grin spread across her face. “Why don’t we keep that to ourselves and let Sirius find out for himself.”

Sweetie Belle was bewildered to see a small crowd gathered in front of the boutique when she and Rarity approached their home. The fact that they were in a circle surrounding the trunk that she had sent Rarity was an even bigger surprise. Having witnessed first-hand the security spell, the unicorn filly was not surprised that the onlookers kept a respectful distance away from the artifact.

As she watched, a lone pegasus crept up on the trunk, keeping wary eyes on it. Crouching in anticipation, the pegasus reached up and quickly tapped the brass plate with a steady hoof. The ensuring chaos brought cheers from the watching spectators.

“Forty-two seconds!” a voice announced, and Sweetie Belle looked over to see an earth pony with a stopwatch turn to mark the time on a blackboard covered with names. Spitting out the chalk, the pony said, “She was just three seconds away from the record of forty-five seconds, tough luck.”

Mouth agape, Sweetie turned to look at Rarity.

“I did tell you that George was good for business,” Rarity said with a shrug. “Everypony is trying to break Rainbow Dash’s record.”

“I can’t believe I get my own room!” Scootaloo exclaimed as she zipped across the threshold into Rainbow Dash’s cloud house.

“I wasn’t going to stuff you in a closet or anything like that,” Rainbow said, following the filly at a more relaxed pace.

Scootaloo stopped her forward motion to flap over to the larger pony and grace her with another heartfelt hug. “Thank you.”

Rainbow returned the hug, draping the filly with her wings. “I should have done this sooner. A lot sooner.”

“I’m your daughter now,” Scootaloo whispered, burying her muzzle in blue chest hair. “I’m so happy.”

“Almost,” Rainbow said, running a hoof through Scootaloo’s mane. “With the boost given by the princess, the red tape is almost cut. All that's left is for us to show up for a check-up at the hospital, and then, the final signatures will be made. You’re mine now.”

“And you’re mine.”

Rainbow Dash reflected that even though being cool was great, being a mother was better.

“I can’t believe I get my own room.” Harry whispered, crossing the threshold into his new space as Bon Bon and Lyra stood behind him, grinning.

“You deserve it,” Bon Bon said as the young colt stared at the large bed, awe apparent on his features.

“Thank you,” Harry said, a single tear of joy escaping his left eye.

The grins on the mares’ faces died excruciating deaths. There was a moments uncomfortable silence before Bon Bon walked forward to nuzzle the foal. “Harry Potter,” she said delicately, “I am so sorry that you went through what you did, but I hope you realize that your aunt and her family didn’t treat you that way because they wanted to.”

Lyra came up to nuzzle Harry from the other side. “I know it's hard, but could you find it in your heart to forgive them?”

“Lyra,” Bon Bon hissed, “it’s too early to ask that of him.”

“No.” Harry shuffled his hooves uncomfortably. “I know, it’s just that. . .”

“We understand.” Bon Bon said. “You know in your head; it will just take some time for your heart to catch up.”

Harry said nothing but stiffly nodded his head.

“You don’t deserve any of this,” Lyra said. “And the next couple days are going to be hard on you.”

“Lyra!” Bon Bon hissed for the second time.

“No,” Lyra said clearly as she shook her own head, “he needs to know; otherwise he’ll think we're keeping things from him.”

“I need to know what?” Harry asked.

Bon Bon sighed. “Harry Potter, your aunt has invited us over for dinner tomorrow. She desperately wants. . . she desperately needs to apologize to you for her past actions.”

Harry stiffened where he stood. “I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Lyra said. “But I think it will be a healing experience for both you and them. Remember, both Bon Bon and myself will be there with you, and the Grangers have volunteered to come as well. Hermione will be there for you to lean on.”

Harry stood stock still. This perfect vacation had just developed a kink. Could there possibly be a worse homecoming?

The ambience of dignity once again suffused the manor after the momentary disruption that had marked the eldest daughter's return from Hogwarts for winter’s break. She had been welcomed home, with her mother displaying a touch more affection than was proper. Still, it occurred in the family home and could be overlooked. After all, it was the nature of women to be overtly emotional. So, some leeway was appropriate and easily tolerated. Ultimately, the heiress was once again under the roof and ready to receive critical education. With the pureblood faction decimated, it was essential that she play her future role flawlessly. This meant that she would have to learn things that normally only a legitimate male heir would be taught. The old ways had to be preserved, even as a bent neck had to be presented.

The lord of the manor sat in his study, a snifter of Napoleon cognac held loosely in one hand as he absently dipped the head of his rosado robusto cigar into the drink. He contemplated the unnatural course that he was forced to chart. Despite his love for his two daughters, his lack of a male heir gnawed at him like an ulcer. Now and again, he would vent his frustration when there was no one else to hear. While there was nothing he wouldn't do for his two darlings, a proper household required more masculinity. He was, therefore, in a foul mood when a girlish shriek reverberated through his domain. Feeling no sense of danger from the wards, the lord found his feet and made his way toward the source of the disturbance.

Soon, he and his wife found their way into their youngest’s room only to be accosted by a most unusual sight. Asteria sat in the middle of her demesne, aggressively petting a unicorn foal. Lord Greengrass had been under the impression that unicorn children were supposed to be pure gold in color, yet the one in his daughter’s arms was more of a pale yellow. A look of joy dominated Asteria’s face as the foal sat there with a look that was best described as ‘put upon’ as it rolled its eyes, though the animal made no effort to extricate itself from the grasp of the young girl. At once, he started calculating the political worth of having a daughter capable of attracting one of the revered beasts while his wife interrupted the proceedings.

“Asteria,” Lady Greengrass said, “what have you snuck into the house?”

“Mother?!” Asteria and the unicorn chorused, when they realized they had an audience. “Father?!”

The two parents blinked in surprise. “Daphne?” Lord Greengrass challenged.

“Yes father?” the unicorn coolly responded.

“You’re an animagus.” Lord Greengrass saw the value of his heiress catapult through the roof. “You are not yet twelve and you have already mastered transfiguration. When were you planning on informing me of your accomplishment?”

“I am not an animagus, father,” Daphne said. “I have a ring that lets me change.”

Disappointment overflowed and he forced himself to ask. “Where did you acquire such an artifact?”

“It was a gift from Lord Discord.”

Anger filled Lord Greengrass as the implications ran through his mind. A lord with whom he was not familiar had given his daughter what was obviously a betrothal present. Daphne was his heiress, and he couldn’t lose her to marriage where she was the inferior. She must be free to continue the Greengrass line. Astoria was not healthy enough to have the duty fall upon her. “What were the conditions of such a valuable gift?” he demanded crossly. “Lord Discord has already claimed the heirs of two prominent houses. It would seem he covets ours as well. You must return the item immediately along with a formal apology.”

“There was no onus implied, father,” Daphne replied evenly. “He was giving them out like candy.”

“Them?” Lady Greengrass skeptically drawled. “He gave out more than one? These rings are easily a promissory gift at the very least.”

“Primus Tiara says that he would consider them negligible at most. His power far outstrips that of the Dark Lord,” Daphne relayed, ears splayed back as her sister continued her assault.

“I find that claim most absurd,” Lord Greengrass sniffed dismissively. “Primus Tiara is obviously overestimating the strength of Lord Discord. Regardless, stand in front of me in your true form when you talk to me. I shall not demean myself by speaking to an animal.”

“Yes father.” Daphne crawled out of Astoria’s reluctantly-relented grasp and stood up as a human girl.

“Has the Lord offered you any other presents?” Lord Greengrass interrogated. “Has he introduced you to any suitors from Equestria?”

“No father,” Daphne said. “I have only met him once, and then briefly. He didn’t even acknowledge me then. He just provided the rings for everyone who didn’t have one before leaving with his women.”

“His women?”

“Yes.” Daphne’s voice and demeanor remained cool and impassive. “Miss Rutter and a pink haired woman named Miss Shy.”

“Miss Rutter? This is important intelligence.” Lord Greengrass rebuked, “You should have informed me of it earlier.”

“I am sorry father.”

“I see that we are going to have to review your time at Hogwarts. You clearly lack the wisdom to discern what findings you should be making me aware of.”

“I am sorry father.”

“Be in my study after supper,” the lord of the manor commanded before making his exit, leaving his wife to address the children.

“Your performance has disappointed your father,” Lady Greengrass said unnecessarily once he had left.

“Yes mother,” Daphne acknowledged without emotion.

“Give me the artifact,” Lady Greengrass said, holding out her hand.

Dispassionately, Daphne removed the ring and placed in in her mother’s hand. The woman rolled the object around, critically examining the nondescript copper band.

“I would have thought that you knew better than accepting a gift without a statement of no obligation.” Lady Greengrass sighed, handing the ring back.

“It was implied,” Daphne dissented. “There was no gravitas involved. One was given to each party goer.”

Lady Greengrass gave a sigh of relief. “It was a party gift? That is comforting to hear. And, it does speak well of the generosity of the lord. I suggest that is the first thing you tell your father later. It will go a long way towards reconciliation.”

“Yes, mother,” Daphne acknowledged.

“May I try it?” Astoria regarded the ring with undisguised desire.

Absently, Daphne handed the ring to her sister. “If it means you won’t maul me anymore.”

“Thank you Daph.” Astoria snagged the ring and popped it onto her finger.

Lady Greengrass smiled at her youngest. “I suppose having two unicorns in the manor is acceptable.”

Astoria beamed and shrank, a golden unicorn foal usurping her position. She stood stock still for several seconds before saying, “I feel funny.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Daphne said, smiling for the first time.

Astoria was quickly realizing that, perhaps, transfiguration magic was not the best thing for her.

It hurts,” Astoria said. “It really hurts.” She started shaking. Then she started screaming.

“Astoria!” both Daphne and her mother cried, reaching for the little unicorn.

“It hurts!” Astoria howled, blood flowing freely from her ears and eyes. “Make it stop! Please! Make it stop!”

Lady Greengrass snatched up her daughter, intent on apparating to St. Mungo's. Before she could act, there was a flash of light and a strange man was standing in the room with them. He took one look at the situation, inhaled a startled breath and snapped his fingers before he and Astoria disappeared in another flash of light.

PreviousChapters Next