• 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 85: Typical Tuesday Tomfoolery

The residents of Ponyville were used to strange and unusual sights. It would be remarkable if any Tuesday were not marked by some bizarre occurrence. Thus, on this Tuesday, the spectacle of Lyra Heartstrings leading four guardsponies through the streets of the town did not merit the scrutiny it would have been given on any other day of the week. The two humans in her entourage would have cause a panic anywhere else in the country, but the exploits of the Crusaders and their friends had inured those ponies to what would elsewhere be considered mythological beings. The red robes that the men wore were viewed simply as a welcomed relief from the pink monstrosities that Discord had wrought.

A careful observer would have noted that Lyra's mane and tail had stray hairs poking out at odd angles. It would have come as no surprise to them that this had been the busiest morning of her life. In this case, morning had been a technicality; an owl from Princess Luna had roused her in the dead hour, nearly giving Bon Bon a heart attack. The missive it had brought promised that the day would be unpleasant in the extreme.

The news had been the nastiest of the nasty. An undercover human agent had evidence of the highest of high crimes having been perpetrated. Lyra had been certain that this would spark a major interdimensional incident. She had shuddered to imagine the magnitude of the reparations that the human government would demand.

She had nearly given herself an ulcer before the British government had conveyed their response. To her surprise, they had given her an official thank you for the offer of cooperation, and they had stressed the value of the relationship between their two governments. The sale of stallions had been considered a nuisance compared to the security breach at the prisons. Anti-apparation wards would be erected at the facilities. Officially, the purloined prisoners were to be classified as exiles. However, the British government also made it clear they would be more than willing to take them back should they ever become a problem.

The missing colt, however, had been a more serious matter. The government had insisted on sending a caseworker to Equestria to confirm the child's wellbeing. They had made it clear that he was not a criminal. They had made it clear that there would be consequences if there were any hint of abuse or neglect.

Lyra still could not understand how anypony could be so blasé about such atrocities toward stallions. While she was relieved that Equestria was getting off griffon-free, she was still appalled at what had transpired. The only thing that had kept her from making a scathing rant about the mistreatment of stallions was the fact that she had been the only mare in the room.

The unicorn had scarcely finished her business at New Scotland Yard when Hedwig had appeared with a letter from Mayor Mare regarding the appearance of a fugitive from the wizarding world. That had prompted a hasty visit to DMLE headquarters. There, she had discovered that Imogen Lee had been responsible for crimes that put the combined misdeeds of all of the escaped stallions to shame. After she had relayed the information back to Celestia, the princess had dictated how Lyra was to handle the situation. The guardsponies had been waiting for her when she had returned to Equestria with the aurors. Now, it was time to tackle the next order of business.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Lyra studied the door in front of her before lifting her hoof to knock.

“Just a minute!” She heard Carrot Top call out from the other side of the portal. “Oh, hello there, Lyra,” the mare said after opening the door. Looking at the rest of the entourage, Carrot Top asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Hello, Carrot,” Lyra returned pleasantly. “Is Imogen Lee here?”

“She just got back from the spa,” Carrot said warily. “I can go get her if you like.”

“Please,” Lyra said, noticing one of the humans walking around the building.

“Are you going to arrest her?” Carrot asked.

Lyra sighed. “Carrot, please go get her. This is serious business.”

“The guards were enough of a clue for that,” Carrot said sadly, taking a step backwards. “Barnaby Lee is going to be devastated if he loses her again.”

“I’ll do my best to avoid that,” Lyra said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. “Has he told you why she was locked up?”

“No,” Carrot admitted. “Is it bad?”

“Very,” Lyra said.

Carrot took a few seconds before saying, “Come in.”

“Thank you,” Lyra said softly. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry to disturb you this way.”

Carrot’s ears flattened. “Everything’s been going so unbelievably well. I knew it couldn’t last.”

“I can relate,” Lyra said, following Carrot inside and taking a seat on a couch. “Hopefully, I can find some way to work things out.”

“Carrot, who is it?” Berry Punch asked, coming into the room followed by an ice blue unicorn mare, who, upon seeing the human in red robes, soiled the rug beneath her hooves.

“Imogen Lee, I presume,” Lyra said from her seat. “I advise against running. That would only make things worse for you.”

Imogen whimpered and began to tremble violently. “Please. Just kill me. Don’t send me back with them.”

All of the ponies in the room were appalled at the mare’s words. Even the guardsponies let the shock show through their normally stoic facades. The auror sneered at Imogen. “It would be no less than you deserve,” he commented.

“I don’t think we need anything that drastic,” Lyra said after she recovered. “So long as Azkaban remains an option, there will be no extradition treaty with the humans. Shepherd here is present as a courtesy.”

Imogen visibly relaxed at those words. “What happens now?” she asked fearfully.

Shepherd waved his wand and scourgified the mess under Imogen. He turned to Lyra and said, “You should just send her back with us. Justice would be better served.”

Imogen took a step backward. She froze when Shepherd leveled his wand at her.

“Everypony calm down,” Lyra said, gesturing at a comfy chair. “Imogen, come over and have a seat so we can discuss your options.”

Not taking her eyes off the brandished wand, Imogen took the proffered seat. Morosely, she said, “I am at your mercy.”

Lyra nodded. “Celestia has taken banishment off the table. You are not a pony, and technically, you banished yourself. Tartarus is an option if you prove uncooperative.”

Both Carrot Top and Berry Punch sucked in a sharp breath at that declaration; both looked at their mother-in-law with new horror.

“However, being a witch,” Lyra continued. “Celestia will allow me to accept a carefully worded oath on your life and your magic. As long as you are not a danger to ponies, she is willing to give you the chance to atone for your past.”

Imogen began to laugh mirthlessly. “If it keeps me away from dementors, I'll bind myself to be your toilet. Whatever oath you require, you shall have.

Lyra blinked, surprised at the ease of the negotiation. “You don’t want to know what the oath is before you agree?”

“My life is literally in your hands. There are fates worse than death; I've lived them.”

“I don’t currently have hands,” Lyra corrected.

“Regardless, I am happy to leave my old life behind,” Imogen said, flabbergasted at how well everything was working out.


If anypony were to ask, Erratic Coverage would say that his favorite part of his job was keeping honest ponies honest. As Equestria's top insurance auditor, not a day would go by when he would find that somepony would have a slightly edited manifest, miraculously showing that they lost eighteen bushels of product instead of the actual sixteen. Gentle prodding was all that was needed to steer those ponies back onto the straight and narrow.

He also relished the challenge of the harder to prove cases. He was sure that there were more rare and priceless heirloom paintings lost to house fires than there were actual paintings. He still had fond memories of using the almanacs to prove that the claim for the lost shipment of cabbages exceeded the county's yield for the season.

This case, however, offended his sensibilities. He believed in the basic goodness of ponykind, but he also knew there were exceptions to the rule. This case was so blatantly fraudulent that he had made a point to book a seat on the first train to Ponyville once he reviewed the claims. It gave him no pleasure to take down a corrupt public servant, but he would make her an example for all who would dare to be so brazen.

Upon his arrival to the small farming town, he trotted directly to the local guard post and presented the evidence to the pony on duty. He said, "Sergeant, I want to show you these claims."

The sergeant flipped through the papers with his magic. He returned the documents and said, "It's Tuesday. Would you like to speak with the mayor directly?"

Erratic's disappointment was palpable when he replied, "No. I want you to come with me and arrest the mayor for insurance fraud."

Evenly, the sergeant said, "You are aware this is Ponyville, are you not?"

"What does that have to do with anything? The evidence is indisputable." Erratic's eyes narrowed. "Unless there's something you'd like to add."

The sergeant shook his head. "Private Parts," he said, "Please escort the gentlestallion to Mayor Mare."

The young guardsmare saluted. "Please come with me."

Following the private down the street, Erratic muttered to himself as he leafed through the claims with his magic. "There has to be more to this. I'm sure I've looked over all my . . ."

A young voice screamed, "Aaaaaah!"

Erratic looked up to find an overturned wagon with its produce scattered across the road. The rear end of a pinto colt barely stuck up above the wreckage. Suppressing a wince, Erratic wondered who in their right mind would use a wagon for transportation in such frozen conditions.

“My cabbages!” a stallion’s voice called out.

“Sorry Mr. Coleslaw,” came a Trottingham-accented colt's voice. “This is harder than it looks.”

The owner of the cart sighed. “Are you all right, Pipsqueak?”

“Yes; your cabbages broke my fall,” replied the colt confidently.

The cart owner sighed again and pointed a hoof. “Your broom is over there.”

Erratic sighed to himself. He looked at the mess and then skimmed a summary of the first claim.

“So, you still want to talk to the mayor?” the private accompanying him inquired.

“Of course,” Erratic replied testily. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The guard only shook her head and gestured for Erratic to follow her. Huffily, the stallion complied.

He was still muttering to himself when they were finally ushered into the mayor’s office.

“How may I help you?” the old gray mare asked, looking up from her own paperwork.

“My name is Erratic Coverage. I’m a representative from Grower’s Insurance. I am here to discuss some irregularities on your most recent claim submissions.”

“That was quick,” the mayor said. “I commend you on your prompt response. I wasn't expecting action for another week.”

Erratic bit back a sneer. “How could we not respond? You’ve submitted fifteen separate claims in rapid succession for fifteen separate incidents. All of which are practically identical.”

Sighing, the mayor nodded. "Yes, it has been a particularly trying time."

“You expect me to believe that you’ve had fifteen separate incidents?” Erratic seethed.

“Those were only the ones that caused noteworthy damage,” the mayor replied calmly.

“You’ve had more incidents in one week than Manehattan sees in a quarter,” Erratic snapped.

“Yes,” the mayor acknowledged. “Our rates reflect that. I’m just happy our policy specifically covers this.”

“Surely you don’t expect me to believe you had fifteen flying accidents causing this much damage?” Erratic barked.

“Like I said, those were just the ones that caused noteworthy damage.”

“Rubbish!” Erratic snapped. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve claimed each of these incidents was caused by an earth pony!”

“Yes, well . . .” The mayor was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass followed by a brown blur colliding with the wall of her office.

“Ow!” complained the earth pony colt tangled up with a broom on the floor.

“Button Mash!” the mayor cried out. “Your timing was impressive, but how. . .” She glanced at the calendar on the wall. “Oh, it’s Tuesday. How could I have missed that?”

“Hehe, hi Mayor Mare,” replied the colt.

“You were all told to practice in the field north of town,” the mayor chastised sternly.

“Sorry.” Button Mash winced. “My broom just got away from me.”

“I just had that window replaced.” The mayor’s voice gained a couple octaves

“Sorry,” Button repeated.

“You are such a loser,” a voice heckled, and Erratic turned to see a young filly wearing a tiara hovering just outside the now-empty window frame. She was on what appeared to be a broom and was conspicuously missing horn and wings.

“Hey!” Button started but he was drowned out by another filly’s screaming, “Look out!” A purple blur collided with the hovering tiara-wearing filly, whisking both of them away. A loud crash soon followed.

“I can’t say she didn’t deserve that,” the mayor muttered.

“I thought those things were trainers with a top speed of a fast trot,” said the private whom Erratic had forgotten about.

“They’re also not supposed to go higher than twenty hooves.” The mayor sighed. “You’ve seen how well they adhere to that.”

“These things are tribalistic,” Button said, finding his hooves. “Silver Spoon’s tried to drown her.”

“What?” the mayor exclaimed. “She crashed in a pond?”

“No, it threw her in a rain barrel,” Button corrected.

“She crashed in a rain barrel?” the mayor tried again.

“No.” Button shook his head. “It threw her. Then, when she came up for breath, it flew over and dunked her head under again.”

“You’re exaggerating,” the mayor scolded.

“Nope,” Button said. “On the bright side, brooms make excellent kindling.”

“Oh, my,” said the private. “Wasn’t hers one of the expensive ones?”

“’Was’ is the correct term,” Button said, picking up his broom from the floor. “Silver owled herself to go get another one. She brought a few ashes as a warning.”

“I’m starting to wish the Crusaders hadn’t donated forty training brooms to the town's children,” the private commented. “I’m surprised this isn’t coming out of the fund.”

“Why should it when our insurance covers it?” the mayor asked.

Erratic looked out the empty window frame to note that the two fillies had shattered a plate glass window down the way. “You have a flying earth pony foal infestation,” he breathed.

“For a certain definition of ‘flying’,” the private replied.

“Anyways,” said the mayor, smirking, “you were saying, Mr. Coverage?”

“I guess we owe a thing or two; we’ve just seen a thing or two,” Erratic said, cautiously backing away from the window. “I’ll write you a bank draft.”


“Thanks for unpacking us,” Pinkie said to Minuette as Sirius and Rainbow picked themselves up off the street in the middle of Ponyville.

“Anytime, Pinkie,” Minuette said. “Who’s the human stallion?”

“This is Sirius.” Pinkie said, hopping a little on her hooves in excitement.

“What?” Minuette said, startled. “What's wrong? What’s the emergency? How bad is it on a Tuesday’s scale of one to ten?”

“Wait! Wait!” Rainbow said, hopping into the air to hover above the rest. “This is going to get out of hoof way too easily. His name is woooooooof!” Rainbow's explanation was cut off by a grey blur colliding with her from behind, driving them both into the wall of the nearest building.

“Sorry Miss Dash.” Silver Spoon said as she staggered to her hooves.

“Oooooooo,” Rainbow moaned as she stood at attention.

“Dashie!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Are you all right!?”

Rainbow groaned.

Pinkie continued, "You know, there's no reason to be so formal. We're all friends here."

“I have a broom handle shoved somewhere I can’t mention.” Rainbow fell just short of shrieking. “Do I look all right?”

“Well, that decides the first stop of our tour,” Pinkie replied. “To the hospital!”


Unnatural selection had slowly made its way through the Ministry as a cabal of purebloods found themselves in search of new career opportunities. Despite repeated warnings against discrimination, they had seen fit to do everything within their power to delay the paperwork that had been submitted by a known muggle-born. It had taken a special breed of arrogance to ignore the endorsement of the Minister. It had taken a special breed of stupidity to raise the ire of Mad-Eye Moody. Still, they had managed to prove that freedom of choice did not equate to freedom from consequences.

Although saner heads had eventually prevailed, what should have taken a few minutes had been stretched into hours. To Moody's irritation, that was more than enough time for a woman to metabolize a calming potion, and everyone had taken her side when she had refused to take another. It was nearly time for lunch before the Grangers had the licenses needed to absolve them of any responsibility for any illegal items that might be in the Lestrange family vault.

His mood was further soured by the syncopated screams of terror that came from the lead minecart as they made their way to the vault. He scowled as he followed the conversation that drifted back.

“Does anything in this world travel at speeds less than ‘Sweet Celestia, we’re going to die’?” Spike complained as he scrambled out of the cart he had shared with Twilight, Hermione, Dan, and Emma.

“On the Jolting Thrill Coaster Scale, this barely ranks above 'hold my hoof, mommy',” Twilight said as she followed him out.

“That wasn't my hoof that Hermione was trying to crush,” Spike retorted.

The impatient stomping of a wooden leg reverberated through the cavern as Moody stormed over. “Now that the red tape is cut and we are finally all here. . .” He jerked his head in the direction of the still-closed vault door to finish his sentence.

“And I believe that is my cue,” said a familiar voice that seemed to come from both everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Mr. Discord?” Hermione asked hopefully as Hector came to stand next to her.

“Cowabunga!” The crowd turned to view the spectacle of a man in an Edwardian swimsuit that was gaily striped in red and white, surfing down the tracks on an olive drab longboard that was trimmed in red. He shot the curl and landed neatly atop the front minecart. The wave vanished as soon as he touched down.

Emma giggled at the display while the two goblins with the group scowled at the unexpected intruder. “I think you are mixing your references,” she said.

“Do you not like?” Discord asked, hopping off his surfboard just before it disappeared with a pop and puff of smoke.

“No,” Alice said from behind the gawking party. “I don’t. In fact, I don’t ever want to see you in that outfit again.”

As one, the group turned to look at her.

“He taught you his method for apparating,” Moody growled.

Alice shrugged. “Family magic,” she said dismissively.

“As you wish, my dear. I have a new ensemble I have been dying to try out.” Discord said, snapping his fingers. There was another pop. Now, he sported gleaming white harem pants with a matching turban. The pectorals biceps that he displayed made him look like a steroid overdose victim.

“No. Just no.” Alice snapped her own fingers, and then Discord was dressed in a tweed three-piece suit that would do an Oxford professor proud.

“Don’t feel bad,” Dan said consolingly. “Emma chooses my outfits for me as well.”

“That’s because you have a horrible sense of fashion,” Grace told her brother as she ran her eyes up and down Discord. “She, at least, knows how to dress her man.”

“Discord, why are you here?” Twilight asked, narrowing her eyes.

“My dear,” Discord said. “Like you, I received an invite to this intriguing occasion. There is no telling what wonders and horrors await us beyond that door.”

“You’re not going to be burning any more books,” Hermione declared, also narrowing her eyes.

“Such thoughts are the furthest thing from my mind,” Discord said, though he did take the precaution of summoning a baker's dozen of fire hoses surrounding Twilight with their nozzles.

“I’m sure Alice will keep him on a tight leash,” Emma said reassuringly. “Though, depending on what we find, book burning might very well be warranted.”

“Emma,” Twilight whined. “Not you too.”

“Actually, I’m not staying,” Alice said. “Fluttershy and I have planned to spend the afternoon doing some last-minute holiday shopping. I just wanted to stop by and say hello.”

“It’s always good to see you. Don’t be a stranger,” Dan said. “Say hello to Fluttershy from all of us.”

“I will. Bye now,” Alice said. Then, with a snap of her fingers, she was gone.

“Great,” Twilight grumbled. “Now there are two of them.” The two goblin guides shared a look that clearly said they were thinking the same thing.

“Are we done with the delays?” Moody asked gruffly.

“Indubitably,” Discord cracked his bullwhip, nearly knocking off the fedora rakishly perched on his head. His outfit had changed to a modified flight jacket and khakis. “Onward!”

“Not that I don’t appreciate that outfit and what it signifies,” Emma said, “but I think you should go back to the one Alice chose for you. I’m almost positive we won’t be finding an ark in there.”

Discord snapped his fingers again as one of the goblins collected the key from Emma and opened the vault. Everyone stared in awe as the piles of gold and other valuables were brought into view.

“Okay,” Grace said. “Now I don’t feel so bad about you paying for Hector’s schooling.”

“Seeing the amount on paper doesn’t prepare you for seeing it in person,” Emma stated.

“Here we go,” Discord said, taking the lead by marching forward. “Everybody in.” He swept his gaze over the contents of the vault before stopping mid step. “And everybody out.”

“What?” asked several voices in confusion.

“Out. Out. Everybody out,” Discord repeated, throwing his arms wide to impede progress while backing up himself.

No one argued as they retreated over the vault threshold.

“What did you see?” Moody asked, wand in hand.

“That cup over there on the pedestal.” Discord pointed.

Moody’s wand maneuvered through several diagnostic spells while Twilight’s glowed as she performed her own analysis.

“Mrs. Granger,” Moody said in a voice that brooked no arguments. “Take the children and your sister-in-law back up to the alley.”

“Come on kids,” Emma said, herding the mentioned individuals. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”

“Actually, ma’am,” one of the goblins said. “Your husband is only the regent of your family. It would be best if a blood member were present.”

“Grace, would you mind?” Emma turned a questioning gaze on the Granger sibling.

“Do you even need to ask?” Grace queried, taking over the herding.

“How bad is it?” Dan asked once the minecart had left.

“It is the worst kind of magic.” Moody grimaced. “Vile doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“Actually,” Twilight said, “as bad as it is, I recognize the magical signature and have means back home to easily counter whatever it might throw at us.”

“I am going to want to hear the story behind that once we deal with this,” Moody insisted.

Twilight sighed. “Why not? I’ve already had to sleep on the couch once for not telling it. But first, I have some crystals sitting in a bowl back in my kitchen, I just need to go get. . .” *snap!* “Thank you, Discord. As I was saying, I just need to levitate this over to the cup and the worst should be neutralized.”

With a wave of her wand, the clear marble-sized crystal was engulfed in a magenta aura before being floated over and deposited into the waiting cup.

“How long until we can tell if that is going to work?” Dan asked.

The cup started to scream.

“Never mind,” Dan added.

“Stay here,” Discord commanded, wielding a pair of foundry tongs and lowering his welding mask as he advanced.

“It should be safe,” Twilight said over the agonized wailing from the object in question.

“My dear, you can never be too careful with items that want to take over your entire being,” Discord said, lifting the cup with his tongs. With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared. Without hesitation, Discord tossed the cup, tongs and all, through the waiting opening. He snapped his fingers again, closing the rift.

“Where did you send it?” Moody demanded.

“To an uninhabited universe where nothing moves,” Discord said. “Nobody is going to retrieve it.”

“What’s stopping someone from sending an owl to get it?” Moody countered.

“There are limits to how far an owl can fly, even across dimensions,” Discord explained.

“Last time I checked, there was a shop full of owls in the alley that could fly this far in under an hour,” Moody insisted.

“Ah yes, I see your misconception.” Discord hummed. “You are thinking in terms of from here to there; completely discounting the distance from here to the cup.”

“Which is just on the other side of the portal you just made,” Moody said.

“I did say that nothing in that universe ever moves.” Discord said pointedly.

“Oh! Oh!” Twilight said. “That’s ingenious.”

“I must be missing something here.” Moody said. “I’m still not seeing it.”

“Do you realize just how fast our planet circles the sun?” Emma asked. “Or how fast the galaxy spins?”

“That’s not even counting the general expansion of our universe,” Dan added.

“The cup is already further away than any owl could travel in a thousand lifetimes,” Twilight finished. “That’s not even taking into account the return trip.”

“For all practical purposes, that cup was just obliterated.” Dan finished.

“That’s not entirely true,” Discord corrected gaining everyone’s undivided attention. “There was a piece of a soul in it. Somewhere there is another piece that will always be attracted to it. Sooner or later, nothing is going to be tying that soul to this plane of existence and it will be sucked into that other dimension. Otherwise, yes, the cup was effectively obliterated.”

“I know whose soul that was.” Twilight said.

“Oh?” Discord asked. “Whose?”

“Voldemort’s.”

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