37 — The Three Curses
They were at number Eleven Magnolia Road having breakfast when, with a pensive expression, Harry suddenly stopped and looked up at the transformed alicorn. “Twilight, I don’t understand.”
She put her fork back down and looked back at him surprised. “Understand what?”
Rarity and the girls looked up, listening.
“Well,” Harry said slowly, “I’ve read in the books about the night my parents died, and it just doesn’t make sense.”
Twilight nodded carefully, the hint of a smile appearing.
“They were supposedly hiding under this fidelius magic that requires a secret keeper. And this Sirius Black bloke was supposed to be that secret keeper. The books claim that he was an ‘inner circle’ member of the Death Eaters, cleverly hiding his true allegiance for all those years. That he was basically an undercover agent, and betrayed my parents to this Voldemort wizard on that Halloween night. And that everyone knew he was the secret keeper.”
She nodded again.
“But the books also say that he and my father thought of each other as brothers. That they made friends when they were eleven and were practically inseparable. They became such good friends that when Sirius had problems with his family, my father’s family had him move in with them. They all but officially adopted him.” Harry looked down for a moment. “My parents even made him my Godfather.” He looked up. “And the books say that he was a fierce fighter against the Death Eaters, capturing many in his duels, and just as fiercely denounced them as blood-thirsty animals. He even fought this Voldemort bloke several times. He appeared to despise the pure-blood fanatics. Many times he was heard saying that he would give his life for my father.
“His dedication and bravery in fighting also are mentioned many times, as is the fact that he didn’t seem to care for riches.” Harry shook his head.
“And the books say that that was all a charade, a pretence by a consummate actor.”
Harry sighed. “So, why would he betray my parents? It makes no sense. He didn’t need money, he had a comfortable inheritance from his uncle. He wasn’t afraid of the Death Eaters or Voldemort, he denounced both at every opportunity. He doesn’t seem to have been interested in power, either. And in the few wizarding pictures I’ve seen, he truly looks and acts as if he considered my father his best friend.” He looked up at Twilight, his eyes shining bright with unshed tears. “So, why would he do something like that?”
She patted her lips with a napkin. “Yes, I noticed that as well,” she said. “You’ll also notice that the books say he was sent to their prison almost immediately after he was captured. And he was laughing about killing your parents — totally at odds with what one might expect an undercover agent to do.” She had a quizzical expression.
“I would expect him instead to accuse this Peter Pettigrew of the crime. To pretend he hadn’t been the Potters’ secret keeper, and accuse Peter of being both the secret keeper and turncoat. That he had killed,” she shuddered slightly, “his former friend in revenge for the Potters. That he was completely innocent in the matter, and Pettigrew’s last words accusing him of the deed had been a desperate, last ditch effort to confound and escape Sirius Black. And that Peter Pettigrew had cast the final spell that had caused the explosion killing the non-magicals just before Sirius Black’s own fatal spell landed.” She shook her head.
“And that would be especially true with him knowing that he would be arrested and thrown into prison if he didn’t provide a competent cover story.”
She looked Harry in the eyes. “I find it interesting that no mention is made of testing his wand to see what spells he had been using, to see if he had caused that horrific explosion. Nor did they consider the possibility that he had been imperioused into doing it. Or that he might have been laughing because Peter Pettigrew hit him with a laughing charm during their duel.” She leaned forward. “It is also interesting that nopony asked him why he had done it.”
She nodded her head at Rarity. “Sounds almost like what happened to Zecora, doesn’t it? Ponies see something that scares them, and they jump to all sorts of conclusions that are wrong.”
Rarity nodded, as did the girls, wide-eyed at conversation.
“On the other hoof, that makes Sirius Black quite the actor, doesn’t it? Completely hiding his faithful allegiance to the evil wizard, starting when he was only eleven years old?” She paused. “I find it difficult to believe that he could fake a friendship such as is recorded with such ease, considering his age. Keeping a horrible secret, yes, that’s possible, but pretending to be something he is not? For over eight years, from before puberty through teenage angst to adult? With such a convincing effort that he fooled his parents into disowning him? Or if they did know, that they would so shabbily treat their own son in such a matter, and not even regret the actions when on their deathbeds? Without any of them even once making a mistake or slipping up?” She stopped, nodded, and said, “I doubt it.
“And even if he converted to the pure-blood philosophy after he left school, there still should have been something to indicate a change, some event that caused him to doubt his previous beliefs. Yet there is nothing to indicate why he would make such a dramatic turn-around in his attitude, to betray someone he had frequently called his brother.”
Harry looked up at her, anguish apparent in his expression. “If he really did do those things he’s accused of, then I want him to stay right where he is. He deserves nothing better.” The boy drew a shuddering breath. “But if he didn’t do them . . . .” He stared at her and whispered, “My Godfather.”
She smiled reassuringly at him. “I will see what we can do to find out what really happened. Starting with getting a witch solicitor. It might take a little time, but I’m sure we’ll be able to get you the answers you want. Maybe we can get Headmaster Dumbledore, in his capacity as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot,” she frowned and shook her head, “to help us in that. At the very least the villain should have a real trial!” She stood and walked around the table, bending down to engulf him in hug. “In the meantime, you have family right here!”
He hugged her back as the girls crowded around and made it a group hug.
۸- ̰ -۸
Castor Searle looked at the paperwork on his desk and wished he were out on a case. He hated the paperwork that came with this job. On the other hand, he wasn’t jumping out of airplanes in the dead of night to exchange weapon’s fire with unseen opponents while trying to infiltrate enemy positions.
Still — he made an expression of revulsion — paperwork.
“Detective Inspector?”
Castor Searle looked up from his desk. “Ah, P.C. Havers. What can I do for you?”
“Well, you know that child abuse case we have in Little Whinging? Pulled them in about three weeks ago?”
He nodded. He certainly knew of it. It still pissed him off to think people could treat a child like that. On one hand, he was glad he wasn’t involved. Those cases were always depressing. On the other, he wished he could be the one to ensure the parents wouldn’t enjoy their next few years because they would be spending them at one of Her Majesty’s Resorts. Preferably one somewhere very cold, perhaps an island in the North Sea, with inadequate or no heating, bad food, and unpleasant guards who enjoyed making their charges miserable.
Not that any of the Queens properties fit that description. But one could dream, couldn’t they?
“I went around there earlier today, to check on the house? Maybe talk with the neighbours?”
He nodded again. Nothing wrong with checking back on a case. Make sure nobody had tried to vandalize the home of the “suspects.” Maybe even scrounge up a witness missed in the original canvass of the neighbourhood.
“Well, they’re all gone.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“The entire street is gone.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She flushed. “I mean, the houses are all empty except for a couple by the playpark. No cars in the garage drives. No furniture in the houses. And there’s something going on in the forest right there, too. There seems to be an inordinate amount of traffic. Foot traffic, that is. There’s a path into the woods that wasn’t there last month. Odd for an area people are moving away from.”
“And what did P.C. Stanford have to say? Little Whinging is his constabulary.” He paused. “You don’t think someone is trying to interfere with the witnesses, do you?”
“That was my first thought, too.” She sighed. “He says the entire estate seems to be moving out. But all our witnesses have left him with forwarding information, so we can contact them if we need to. They appeared quite happy to be moving, no real regrets at all.” She frowned. “He thinks it’s some big company buying up the land for an industrial site, but I don’t know. Something about it makes me . . . nervous. The few people I did meet there . . . well . . . they’re all foreigners. And they didn’t strike me as the business types. Far from it, in fact. They were all a bit too . . . focused, I guess I’d say.”
He sat still for a moment. In the Sport and Social you listened to those kinds of things. Usually, they meant nothing. But sometimes they did mean something. And when they did, you ignored them at your own peril.
He sighed. When he had been young and foolish, he had wanted adventure. He had wished for excitement.
And he had received his wish in the military, the Special Air Service, the S.A.S., the Sport and Social, as the members called it. For twenty years. He had learned the meaning of the first Chinese Curse of Life, “May your wishes be granted.”
Now, seven years after retirement, he wanted something a bit quieter. Not as strenuous. Or dangerous. And being a Detective Inspector in the Surrey Constabulary fit that nicely. Except for the paperwork. That he could do without.
He had the feeling, though, that once again, someone was going to get the short end of the stick and have a nastily unpleasant time of it. He just hoped it wasn’t going to be him. And yet, somehow, he kind of expected it to be him. Besides, as Tom in his old platoon used to say, “It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you!” and, “There’s no such thing as paranoia, just the cautious and the dead.”
Seeing his blank expression, she hurriedly added, “Yankees, if I had to guess.”
He stared at her a bit longer before pushing back from his desk. “Let’s have a look, then, shall we? I needed to take a breather from this paperwork, anyway.”
Half-an-hour later they were slowly cruising up the main street in Little Whinging. So far, nothing appeared amiss. The traffic might be lighter than normal for a small town, but there could be most anything responsible for that.
Cruising down Privet Drive through Wisteria Estate, though, was surreal. It wasn’t a gated estate, but it did have limited access through three streets, none a through-street. Just a small hundred-acre estate for suburbans who all worked in the London metro area.
It was mid-August, there should be children out and about on such a nice sunny Friday, as it was. Instead, there weren’t any signs of life at all. It was so quiet he could easily hear the traffic from the town centre.
He pulled over midway down Privet Drive and walked up to number Fourteen, P.C. Havers followed in his wake. Standing on the porch, he could see through the front widows that the sitting-room was completely devoid of furniture. He walked over to number Sixteen to see the same emptiness. He crossed the street to numbers Thirteen and Eleven. He looked back at number Four. A bobby had already removed the police crime-scene tape. It appeared as if the owners had just stepped out, the curtains closed. The only house on the street with curtains.
He looked down the street and frowned. The entire area was eerily quiet and empty. He half-expected spooky music to start playing in the background. Music like that in an alien-invasion film, with alien monsters hiding in the back-gardens and on the roofs. Spying on them and waiting for the chance to ambush them.
He couldn’t say why, but he knew he was being watched by unfriendly eyes.
They went back to the car and continued. They stopped in front of number Eleven Magnolia Road. Two streets over and it was one of three houses in the estate with curtains in the windows. The owner of the second house, on Wisteria Walk, had been out, apparently. The row of cats inside on the sitting-room window-sill had watched them carefully as the two officers looked around. He spotted another half-dozen under the bushes.
Perhaps they had been what set off his uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Cats did wander all over neighbourhoods, and he wouldn't see one hiding under a bush a few houses away.
Castor had been rather relieved, truthfully, that she was out. Cat-ladies were always a bit difficult to interview. They paid far more attention to their cats than any questions he asked. And, as far as he knew, she had nothing to do with the investigation into number Four Privet Drive.
Number Eleven, when he arrived at the door, had no cats in evidence. At least, not that he could see through the open curtains in the front window.
He knocked energetically on the door. After a brief wait, he knocked again. This time he heard someone moving about inside. He knocked again. After a moment, the door opened and a deeply-tanned woman appeared. She was of medium build, and tall enough to look him in the eyes. She wasn’t wearing heels. She appeared fit, as if she worked out on a regular basis, and he gauged her age at somewhere in the mid-twenties. Her dress appeared to be specially tailored, hugging her form, yet not being too tight, and was knee-length. From her points, it was obvious she wasn’t wearing underwear. The most striking things about her, though, were her lime-green eyes and bright-blue hair — hair which fell all the way to her waist.
“Hi! What can I do for you?” she said cheerily.
Dragging his attention from her . . . hair, he smiled and said, “Hello. I am Detective Inspector Castor Searle and this is P.C. Havers.” He nodded his head in her direction. “We noticed that this street seems to have a lot of vacant homes. I just wanted to let you know that we will be making regular patrols to discourage any vandalism.”
The house was dead silent behind her. Nothing to indicate anyone else was present. Nor were the radio or telly on. He idly wondered what she had been doing. She didn’t look as if she’d been having a lie-down.
“Oh! That’s good to know. Will the patrols be regular or random? Once a day or more often? Any particular times we should watch for?”
He blinked. That was an odd reaction. “Random, mostly. I expect perhaps once during the day and once in the late evening. Sometimes only once a day. If you happen to notice any people around the vacant houses, please let us know and we’ll send a patrol right around to check on things.”
She nodded. “That’s good to know. Thank you.” She stood smiling at him.
Something about her stance bothered him. Her hand on the door’s edge was for more than simply holding the door open. “You haven’t noticed anything in the last few weeks have you?” he said. “No strangers walking around and peering in houses or doing anything you might regard as suspicious?”
She gave him a cheeky grin, “Only yourself and the young lady.” She nodded to P.C. Havers.
He stared at her a moment before quirking up the corner of his mouth. “Well, yes.” He nodded. “It’s good to see that you are keeping your eyes open. We wouldn’t want any criminals setting up shop in a back-garden here, now would we?”
“I quite understand. We certainly wouldn’t want that.” she said agreeably, and gave him a wide smile. “And I’ll keep a sharp eye out for you. If I see anything you need to be concerned about, I’ll be sure to notify you.”
Something about the way she worded that set him on edge. And how had she known he had been looking in the windows of houses not even on this street? He nodded again and drew a card out of his pocket. “Here’s my office card, just give me a ring if you see or hear anything suspicious.”
She took the card and stared at it for a moment. “I will certainly do that, Detective Inspector Castor Searle.”
There was something unsettling about her.
“Well, thank you very much, Miss . . . ?”
Still smiling, she said, “Emerald Arrow.”
He stared at her, wondering briefly if she was having him on. But she seemed quite serious. “Well,” he said, “That was all I wanted to say. Good afternoon, Miss Arrow.” As he turned, he noticed her giving him a puzzled look. It was quick, just the slight creasing on her forehead, but it was there. What had he said to prompt that reaction? He and Havers headed back to the car.
He heard the door shut behind them. As he got into the car he could see her standing in the middle of the sitting-room, and peering out at them through the windows. She made no effort to hide the fact that she was watching them. She even gave them a friendly smile and a little wave.
Once more sitting in the car, he said, “Definitely an American accent there, but the name is most unusual. She doesn’t have the facial cast to be an American Indian — I wonder if it’s a stage name. The hair colour is a little unusual — unusually long, too. Don’t meet many women willing to put up with the time it takes for hair that long. Seems nice enough.” He looked Havers. “Odd reaction, though. Most people just acknowledge we are watching, they don’t ask us for the schedule.”
She nodded. “I noticed that. And she was watching both of us, not just you because you were the one talking.” She frowned. “In fact, she seemed to be watching me more than you.”
“Yes, I saw that, too. She’s had military training. Situational awareness. Not sure why she watched you instead of me as the higher rank.”
He pursed his lips, thinking. He started the car and drove into the layby in front of the playpark just a few meters down the street.
No kids at all in the park. Highly unusual for a sunny summer Friday. He got out and walked through the wrought-iron gates and over to the swings and slides. They had all been vandalized and needed repainting or repair. However, the damage wasn’t recent — he could tell by the faint signs of rust starting to show on the scratched metal. The grass, on the other hand, had been recently mowed, so the parks and recreation department had been by.
“We’re being watched.”
He looked over at Barbara. She was over by the teeter-totters. She tilted her head over towards a park bench. That was . . . different. There hadn’t been anyone there when they had pulled up. The man sitting on the bench at the opposite end of the park was wearing a casual suit that wouldn’t be out of place in any business in London. Here, in an empty park in an almost deserted neighbourhood? No, that wasn’t right. Where had he come from? He wasn’t from any of the nearby houses, that was for sure. They were all vacant. And a farm surrounded the rest of the playpark.
The man appeared to be just enjoying the sun, with only occasional glances in their direction. Oddly, he seemed more interested in watching Havers than Castor, the officer noticed, as she wandered over to look at the climbing bars.
Searle noted the path by the man’s bench that led from the playpark into the forest. For a moment, he thought he saw someone else farther down that path. He squinted slightly. It was difficult to see much in the comparatively dark forest. There didn’t appear to be anyone in there, though. He pursed his lips, thinking.
They went back to the car and Searle drove to the end of the street, onto another, then turned around and parked where they could see partially into the playpark. The park bench by the path was empty. He knew they were being watched.
He sat there mulling over what he seen. This was not just some big company buying property. A commercial enterprise would have obvious guards walking or driving through to protect their newly acquired property. At the very least they would have posted signs that the area was under regular surveillance to discourage any unsavoury characters from setting up shop or doing mischief.
These people were being secretive. Miss Emerald Arrow was not a simple housewife. They were being watched from cover.
He watched as a woman with bright-red waist-length hair crossed the street from number Eleven Magnolia Road and down the path by the bench into the forest. Her movements were not stealthy in the slightest. In fact, she stumbled on something he couldn’t see and almost fell.
He considered whether to explore the paths, both the one in the park and the one beside number Twenty-eight, the last house before the park on that side of the street. However, if something . . . illicit . . . was in progress, just the two of them stumbling upon it might lead to consequences they would regret. He needed more information before taking that particular course of action.
After another fifteen minutes, he drove down the street past the park. He slowed to take a look at the path that led into the forest across from number Twenty-eight. Again, he thought he saw someone farther inside the forest, but when he took a longer look, nothing was there.
۸-_-۸
Castor looked around the office of Title Deeds and Records as he walked up to the counter.
“What can I do for you governor?” Harris said.
Castor frowned at the flippant clerk. He handed him his card with Privet Drive, Magnolia Circle, and Wisteria Way written on it. “Could you get me the last month’s conveyances on these streets in the Wisteria Estate?”
“Something wrong?” asked the gossip.
“Nothing at all. A mate is looking for a house out this way. Thought I’d check the prices in Little Whinging. Seems a nice enough place.”
“Might be more difficult than you thought, D.I. Searle. Been a right lot of activity in Little Whinging this last month. Some big corporation is snapping ’em up left and right. Here it is!” He hit a button and a printer began buzzing below the counter. “Call themselves, ‘Royal Equestrian Properties,’ they do.” He stared at his terminal. “They’ve bought over a hundred properties in the last month! Even that farm that wraps the playpark. Odd thing though, they’re paying market values for all of them.” He looked up at Castor. “I’d expect housing prices to spike right quick once word got out about them acquiring, but they’re dead level, they are.”
He raised his eyebrows looking at the screen. “Spent quite a load of quid, they did, anyway! Four or five million if I’m adding this right. Blimey! Almost everything in a half-a-kilometre of the playpark is theirs, now.” He pulled the printed continuous-stationery pages from the printer’s basket and put them up on the counter.
“Ah, well, then,” Castor said wistfully, “I guess Little Whinging is right out. Still, the conveyance prices will be a help for budgeting.” He stepped back from the counter. “Thanks for your help.” He grabbed the pages, absentmindedly folding the edge perforations and tearing off the sprocket-hole strips. He dropped the waste in a bin by the door on his way out.
۸-_-۸
Castor looked at his watch. His shift had another hour. And the papers he had collected this afternoon were more than a bit unsettling. It was probably nothing, but, still . . . .
He parked the cruiser down the street where he could see the front of number Eleven Magnolia Road while being out of sight of the residents unless they physically stepped outside.
And absolutely nothing happened for over two hours. No cars, no lorries, no people. He might have been in a ghost-town if it weren’t for the sounds from the town centre, not that far away. At seven, four children and two adults came out of the house. Neither of the two adults, he noted, were Emerald Arrow. Both were attractive and had waist-length hair — one’s hair was purple and the other a dark-purple with a pink stripe. He watched them cross the street into the forest.
They hadn’t returned after half-an-hour and it was starting to get dark. What could they be doing? Camping in that part of the forest was illegal. He started the engine and drove down the street. He stopped briefly in front of the house. It was completely dark, no lights on at all. It might as well be as vacant as the other houses on the street.
He pulled forward towards the park and looked at the dirt path.
Emerald Arrow was standing there. The street light there was out, the only one out in the entire development. But she was still clearly visible — it wasn’t completely dark, yet. And there was only darkness behind her, no signs of a campfire or any other illumination. Where had those people gone?
He pulled across the street and rolled down the window.
She smiled at him, stepped up to the car, bent down, and said, ‘One of your random patrols?’
He grinned back at her, trying to put her at ease. He pointedly did not look at what was on display. He hadn’t realized the neck of her dress plunged quite that far, nor that it was so loose, when they had met earlier. “That’s right. Might as well get off to a good start!”
She looked down the street, then back at him and said, “Don’t get much patrolling done if you’re stopped at the end of the street for two and a half hours.”
“Just familiarizing myself with the area,” he explained.
She nodded cordially, and said, “Yeah, let’s go with that.”
He stared at her a moment.
Then she said, “Well, next time you’re in the neighbourhood, say tomorrow at ten, drop in for tea. You might meet someone important.”
“Really?” he said.
She nodded amiably. “Yes. I suggest you be on time.”
He sighed. “I’ll be seeing you, then,” he said.
“Yes,” she said as she straightened, “you will.” She stepped back, still smiling.
He drove back to the station, deep in thought.
Perhaps it was all his imagination. Perhaps it was coincidence. Perhaps it was all above-board and he was reading things into an innocent situation. Perhaps he was the Queen.
۸-ꞈ-۸
Stats
Page generated in 0.026 seconds
Total duration
837 users online
1,425,806 hits today, 2,814,898 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
muggles are suspecting things and getting closer to answers than wizards. YAY
Hah, that detectives POV was immensely entertaining. Excellent work.
oh, you poor investigator.
Well seems the situation has already reached the Fourth iteration of Dr. Malcolm's dragon curve... Wonder how fast things will start to cascade now...
Well that's one way to get the Bobby's involved in the situation
My shipping senses are tingling.
it so -> it was so
Oh this is fascinating how things are changing... and the human police getting involved... ...somehow I think that inspector is going to get a pony in his life soon.
Also, Harry learning about his past this early... fascinating! So many changes! All of this is honestly developing into a more realistic take on things.
I love the investigators snooping and finding the obvious big red flags, but not quite getting how big the picture is. I can't wait to see more of that, and earth/Equestria first contact.
Yet, the start... eh, there was way too much logic jumping for a group of people who are nearly entirely unfamiliar with the wizarding world, its history and its people to unravel almost the entire plot surrounding Sirius and Peter. That just felt ridiculously contrived.
I think I commented on this in a previous chapter, but nice touch having their preconceptions from Equestria lead them to prefer female-gendered terms for professionals and positions of authority when forced to choose.
This, on the other hand, I'm cautiously curious about and hoping that there's a reason you plan to draw attention to which I'm not yet seeing. Two different individuals misunderstanding the local hierarchy of ranks in the same way isn't as plausible and drawing attention to it like that without an explicit purpose for the plot just makes it feel like you're needlessly drawing attention to something which some readers might prefer to ignore so they can pretend the story is better aligned with their headcanon.
9108209
Thanks. Fixed.
9108229
First, coming from a world where there is a matriarchy society, I imagine the ponies would reflexively expect the woman to be in charge in an investigation. Second, not knowing the official hierarchy of the local police, people tend to assume the one in the uniform is the one in charge, unless otherwise told.
Finally, some nomages who actually get things done! In the books, nomages were depicted as being pretty dumb, and just allowed the wizards to walk all over them without realizing it. I'm glad this story has a different take on that. Keep it up, this continues to be one of the best stories i have seen on this site.
9108228
It's not really all that much of a logic-jump when even a cursory examination of the 'evidence' is enough to make someone go 'something's Discordy here'. It really doesn't make sense at all, and is enough to make anyone with fresh eyes go 'hmmm'.
Almost 600 hundred likes prepare for another chapter mah boy
9108232
I'd imagine soldiers would expect the superior officer to be in charge in a situation, regardless of gender. To draw attention to it being otherwise implies that representation in the ranks in Equestria is being significantly influenced by sexism that is the reverse of what we're still trying to shake off... which is something that disagrees strongly with my headcanon.
The ""Not sure why she watched you instead of me as the higher rank." implies that they both are in uniform. Why would the police have an expectation for a stranger to care about ranks if they aren't both adorned with indications of their rank?
Sounds like the Equestrians were long sense waiting to be noticed by officials finally
Tomorrow (Thursday for us) Looks to be particularly interesting.
9108250
That's something I liked about 'Fantastic beasts'. For example, when the witch couldn't open the door with her spells the muggle kicked it open.
9108232
With the Royal Guard being primarily made up of guys and their commanding officer being Shining Armour? I mean, I know the poor guy gets shafted in canon, but that's no reason to ignore his existence here as well. Their ruling government may be solely made up of woman, but their security has plenty of men. Them being surprised at a man being in charge of a police unit is just... weird. It implies Equestria suffers from sexism, something we never see anywhere in the show.
only 6 more likes till the next chapter, oh boy! Also I like that detective, from his introduction anyway and I do hope he gets some decent screen time but I'm a bit partial to characters with military history.
9108263
That might explain Black's betraying the Potters, but not his subsequent attack on Peter . . . why bother the poor man? Peter had nothing to do with getting broken. And if Black had converted, it makes far more sense to flee than track down an innocent Peter. Thus, Sirius couldn't have been captured and "broken." His actions following the deaths of the Potters make no sense if you assume he was.
Key words . . . "undercover agent." Voldie's other followers were not deeply planted agents, hence Black's suddenly failing to keep up the act is a surprise. And, why would he bother going after Peter? Being an undercover agent he would know that Peter was already a Death Eater.
Regarding the wand -- Twilight doesn't know the ineffectiveness of the Wizarding court system. She might suspect it at this point, but she doesn't know it.
And, regarding the imperious, this is BEFORE the Death Eaters were all captured. Everything is still up in the air, and Death Eaters are going wild searching for Voldemort. Only later, days or weeks, would Death Eaters start buying their way out.
Ooooooo, I seriously want to know what happens with the muggle cops. A very interesting chapter
Holy shit this was a good chapter!
Reminded me of some of the legendary classics such as Onto The Pony Planet and Anthropology.
It was realistic first contact stories that got me to sign up to this site.
9108301
Maybe it's believed that Peter confronted Sirius rather than the other way around.
I also see no details of when Sirius was arrested it could have happened anytime after Voldemort's defeat.
9108283
Ah! My fault. Detective Inspectors, regardless of actual rank, are not uniformed except in extremely formal situations. Hence, Emerald sees an office in uniform and another who appears as a civilian.
And in our society, 50% of all people are women, yet if a policeman and policewoman show up at your door? Who ya gonna look to first? Not the woman, I can guarantee, unless she immediately states she's in charge or otherwise indicates that man with her is her subordinate. And you would still watch the man. (when my wife goes to buy a car, I stay home because she doesn't want the salesman only talking to me -- even though 50% of all drivers are women).
9108297
First, unless Celestia has a "cloning" program for her Guards, it is impossible for all those guards to look alike as they do -- especially given the pallet of colours we see in MLP. Thus, there must be a spell on their armour that does that. Hence, you cannot assume the guards are all male based solely on appearance. Why they chose a male model might be for the physical intimidation factor.
Also, for grins, check out Castor Searle. And watch the other names that come up (except named government officials).
Seems he will be getting answers if he shows up
9108193
Yours too? I mean.. he owes her a drink for the free viewing I think
9108332
that got a good chuckle out of me, now I'm hoping someone asks him what his name means around twilight.
It's the Russians. Definitely the Russians.
I have to wait until Thursday for the next chapter!?
Quick, 8 more people upvote this!!!
9108332
Problem is that security force also consists solely from stallions. And pretty much all dangerous or hard jobs mostly manned by stallions. So I don't see why Royal Guard can't be solely a stallion job.
There are several reasons for this:
It's all down to our instinctive mental calculus for threats and social hierarchy... and a uniform commands more attention and respect than a gender, skin color, or what have you. On the threat-potential side, I'd think Equestrians would see male Earth ponies as the most physically imposing. (Though having a unicorn on either side of the exchange would no doubt complicate that mental calculus.)
9108342
Yes it will… or he’ll be put in the loony bin.
9108396
Yeah, I could definitely see most stallions being in the guard especially since I don't think the show has ever shown mare guards. Heck one story used that idea to explain the lack of stallions in town, most of them serve in the guard for a few years.
9108398
Exactly. And the ponies use a calculus that is different based on their use of magic. A calculus that is thrown off because they are in new forms and the normal visual clues (horns, wings, etc.) are missing. And in a matriarchal society, the women are the ones with authority. And that's the only visual clue the ponies get from the humans.
9108413
WoG actually stated that at least in Ponyville visible lack of stallions happens because they work in the fields.
9108268
Problem is you can only like a story once. If the likes/dislikes were per chapter, then the authors would get even more feedback. But FiMfiction's storage files would break.
Ooh! Nice alias.
It only just occurs to me that Little Whinny would be a good pony name or nickname for Little Whinging.
Also, I know we've only just met them, but I want to see more interactions between Arrow and Searle.
I really like this "subplot" of the police noticing something is off. Especially as it is on the personal level. If it was an organization, it would be way less interesting than a Detective Inspector and his partner.
It makes me impatient for the next chapter (despite how frequent I know you update).
9108263
Because, as someone else pointed out, the Sirius/Peter story doesn't make sense from the outside. Twilight and Harry aren't saying Black is innocent, they're saying the official story doesn't add up. Even Harry's first bit at the end is "If he's guilty let him rot.". They don't know what the real truth is, only that the official story doesn't make sense.
Even more fitting given Twilight's status as Princess Of Friendship. The idea of ANYONE betraying a friendship like James & Sirius was supposed to be SHOULD NOT make sense to her. Honestly I'd expect her to believe Sirius was being controlled/manipulated before she suspects Peter of being the traitor, simply because the idea of betraying a friend wouldn't make sense to Twilight.
Long Live the Queen!
But seriously, at this rate Equestria will be noticed soon
To quote Dafft Duck from the GBA version of Looney Tunes Back In Action,
Niiiice one.
9108440
Yeah, but how would anyone know that it was Sirius who hunted down Peter and not the other way around? The only people who knew the full story was Peter and Sirius. Peter was presumed dead and Sirius was completely out of his mind at the time. All anyone knows is that there was a confrontation between the two that resulted with Peter and several muggles dead.
9108421
I don't think you've noticed, but at the end of EVERY chapter is a number of the ACTUAL views that chapter has received. It would a trivial to include a subdivision of that number into likes/dislikes. At this late stage in development it would not be a trivial exercise in storage manipulation to adjust the counters. Unless the system is based on a true relational database, in which case it's just adding two fields and linking them to display on with the number of views on each chapter. Older chapters would simply display the number of views and total likes/dislikes as a start.
9108332
I didn't say all, I said primarily. The Royal Guard, from what we see and hear the few times they have speaking roles and we learn a teeny bit more about them, is primarily made up of stallions. Shining Armour we know without a doubt to be male, and he is the highest ranking officer of the Guard bar the Princesses. Ponies never really make an issue out of what gender is doing what. It's just... weird to see ponies being sexist about this.
Also, hur hur on the name pun.
9108398
Wouldn't using this logic mean that an Equestrian would find the female form more intimidating than a male one? Why make all the Guard (which, with the logic being used here, would be made up of mares for the most part) look like men then?
9108440
9108263
Exactly. Everydaygamer, you’re looking at this from a perspective of someone who knows the potterverse. You should be looking at it from a pony point of view. Not even an outsider, but one of the papered ponies used to basically no crime and little to no betrayal of trust.
That poor inspector probably has the Halloween theme in his head.