Harry Potter and the Crystal Empire

by Damaged

Doing

The rest of my classes for the day were strange in that Hermione and Addera were constantly whispering—oh, and I was a little quadruped horse. The scrying glass was just about the best thing ever for a near-sighted wizard, and I actually wrote down in Ginny's diary about it. Ginny agreed to remind me.

Ginny was… pretty awesome. With the locomotion charm to write with, talking with her was a simple matter of putting the mirror glass on one side of the book so I could watch class, while I wrote to her and read her replies on the other half.

She'd even managed to produce a pile of random notes when Flitwik had demanded to see what I was scribbling in charms class. I don't think he completely bought it, but he hadn't said anything further.

"Coming to quidditch practice, Harry?"

I hadn't seen Oliver approach, mostly because I wasn't stupid enough to walk around staring closely at a shard of glass. Blinking owlishly at him, I tilted my head to the side. "Sure, why not. I might sprout wings and fly."

"You know ol' McGonagall will sort all this out soon enough, Harry. What I really need you for is safety. Can't practice without someone ready to cast a levitation charm. And not particularly wanting to go with the four-legged look myself, I figured I'd ask the most capable wizard at the school."

It'd be nice to say I wasn't swayed by flattery, but it worked. He was right. The team needed a wizard to watch over them in case someone fell, and I was the wizard of Hogwarts right now. "You twisted my arm, Oliver."

"There you go, Harry. Come on, race you there!" Oliver turned and started running.

Understanding how sport-mad Oliver Wood was, I braced my back hooves and took off as fast as I could after him. It felt good to run and race. Without a clue exactly how I was doing it, I had a run going that resulted in none of my hooves touching the ground for most of it, and it felt like I was the wind!

I blew past Oliver in the hallway leading to the quidditch pitch, but when I got to a corner I had to slow down to nothing, which allowed him to pass me again. Then we were out into the hill leading down from Hogwarts to the pitch.

Oliver stomped his foot a few times at ground that seemed flatter than it used to. "Ignore the ground, the pitch is perfectly fine. Come on, Harry!"

I ran as fast as I could again, and beat Oliver to the pitch where the rest of the Gryffindor team was waiting. Fred and George had their usual cocky expressions that I could see easily despite them being mostly a blur. The two As—Alicia and Angelina—were talking together, while Katie stared at me with absolute shock.

"You really are a horse. A tiny horse. I thought it was all—" Katie snapped her mouth closed.

Barely having worked up a sweat, Oliver reached a gloved hand out to rough up Katie's hair. "You'll have to forgive her, she missed breakfast the other day. Yes Katie, we weren't just pullin' your leg. Harry really is a horse. This is why we don't do magic."

"But he—But you can?" Katie looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Levi-o-sa!" The excited pull of magic as it rushed through me stirred my own excitement. It wanted to be used, it needed to be used—I used it. I aimed my horn right at Katie and she floated a few inches into the air. "See?"

"Katie…" Fred's voice was distinct but trailed off. "Kaaaaaa-tiiiiii…"

"What?" Katie Bell spun around only to see that George had snuck up behind her. She jumped and, thanks to the basic levitation spell, bounced nearly ten feet into the air.

"Katie looooooooves Harry!" George winked to me and then looked up. "Cor, if you were wearing a dress, this'd be worth turning into a horse to see."

As Katie came down, I could see her aiming her boot at George's head, and she had her arm back ready to punch him. From the dull thuds that came as she landed, both connected.

Fred walked up to me while his twin brother was being pummeled, and reached a hand down to stroke my mane. It was the oddest gesture I could have imagined under the circumstances. "Captain!" Fred called. "Captain! I can't practice. I'm feeling a little horse."

"How long were you working on that one, Fred?" Oliver asked.

"He's Fred, I'm George," Fred said.

Oliver reached one arm around Fred's shoulders and squeezed. "Well, George owes me a dozen—"

"I'm Fred!"

"Ah! Glad we cleared that one up. You all owe me ten laps of the pitch before you look at your brooms. Harry, let Katie down so she can punch George properly."

I stopped the flow of magic to my spell as Katie reached the ground, which stopped her from bouncing straight up again. She brought her fist up again only for George to dodge the punch.

"You hit like a girl, Katie!" George took off running.

"Do you wonder," Fred said philosophically as Katie took off running after his brother. "If she realizes that chasing boys to beat sense into them looks a lot like chasing boys to kiss them?"

"Hey, As!" Oliver grinned as Alicia and Angelina looked his way. "If either of you can catch Fred here, you can both run one less lap and he'll run both of them for you." As both girls turned to look at Fred, Oliver laughed. "Ten laps, Fred. Think you can make it?"

"Out run a pair of—" Fred didn't get a chance for another quip, he took off at a dead run when the girls started moving.

"Come on, Harry. I know those legs of yours have speed, but do they have stamina?"

Oliver had a brightness about him when he was near a quidditch pitch. He seemed not just more alive, but able to do anything. It was not just his enthusiasm for the sport, but the charisma that leaked from him whenever his favorite topic came up.

"Enough to out-run you," I said.

He didn't bother with more banter—Oliver just laughed and took off at a run. It wasn't magical, it wasn't even a subtle form of mind control, I just had to run to prove to him that I could be what he thought I was.

I ran. I ran as fast and as hard as I could, but in the end I had to drop back and keep pace with Oliver just to finish the ten laps—and even that was seemingly only because of his urging and cheering me on.

Panting hard at the finish line, I wanted to glare at the team captain and blame him for how tired I felt, but the thing was I felt good. My legs were practically like jelly, and my sides puffed to pull in air, but I was alive with excitement.

"Where's George?" Oliver asked. "And Katie…?"

"Well, Oliver my friend, I'm pretty sure Katie and George are fairly evenly matched runners, you see." Fred gestured to Alicia. "Unlike Angelina"—he then pointed at Angeline—"and Alicia here, who are a little slower than I am."

"We'll get you next time." Angelina sounded more determined than upset at the deliberate name switch. "Just you wait."

"That's the thing, ladies, I don't wait." Fred winked at Angelina.

"Where are they, Fred?" Oliver asked again.

Fred grinned as wide as I'd ever seen him smile. "I saw 'em snogging on the other side of the pitch behind the stands. But that just means George slowed down."

Alicia, far from joining in Angelina with her vocal sparring with Fred, turned her attention on me. "What's it like?"

"Being a not-unicorn?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, everyone reckons the profs'll fix this all up, but even McGonagall has a tail. I saw it last night." Alicia's tone had a kind of wistfulness to it. "I was thinking of casting a spell just to see what would happen. Do you think I'd get a tail, or maybe some ears? Could I just keep casting and get both?"

I wasn't prepared for her next move. Alicia reached down quickly and grabbed me, lifted me up and—hugged me.

"Your fur is so soft and warm, but look at how tangled your mane is. I used to take care of our horses back home, you know. I still have one of the curry brushes because the smell of it reminds me of home." She squeezed me a little tighter and buried her face into my mane.

"Y-You don't really want to be a—a not-unicorn too, do you?" I asked.

"Why do you say not-unicorn?" Alicia's fingers worked into my mane and brushed it slowly.

I almost blurted everything out, but I wasn't sure how much McGonagall had told the other students of the foals Hermione and I freed. "Because I'm not a unicorn? Unicorns don't have scales down their back, or split hooves—"

"Some can have split hooves."

"Right. But how many unicorns catch on fire?" She didn't reply to me. "So I call myself a not-unicorn."

I thought I'd won the argument and Alicia would put me down. Instead, however, I felt her fingers work into my mane and brush it again. "The only thing better than a horn would be wings. Could you imagine playing quidditch without a broom?"

It was almost too much. She wasn't rough in how she held me, quite the opposite, but it was firm. Finally, I slumped in her arms. "Alicia, there's downsides."

"Like?" Her hand trailing through my mane had been snagging on my hair at first, but now it glided through.

"No hands, for one. All I've got is hooves. You have the option of either pushing something with a hoof, holding it in your mouth, or casting spells."

Alicia moved her hand on to running through the puff-ball of fluff on my tail. "I'm not sure if you noticed, Harry, but I'm a witch. Spells are kind of my thing. Pretty handy with a charm or two, you could say."

I thought it was obvious. It seemed obvious. Suffering the indignity of having my tail brushed, I said, "You couldn't play quidditch, Alicia. How can you grab the quaffle without arms?"

With a sigh Alicia stopped brushing my tail. "You know, Harry, you could have swept me off my feet—or hooves—if you had just gone along with my fancies." She carefully put me down. "But you're right. If I can't play quidditch, I'll have to be sneaky."

I looked up at her. "Sneaky?"

"Of course. I'll wait until McGonagall announces to the school she has a cure, and then I'll cast spells like I've never cast before. Who knows, I might even become an animagus as a pony." Her face exploded into soft smiles again. "Then I could even pronk."

I was lost. "Pronk?"

"Addera said you pronked at breakfast. Hermione even backed her up. I wish I could have seen you bouncing like that. I might even give up quidditch to be able to pronk."

"You mean the four-legged bouncing thing?"

"How about a deal, Harry?" Alicia sounded craftier than George or Fred on a con. "You pronk, and I'll give you a kiss on the cheek."

"Nope!" I broke into a run to get away from the mad girl. What was it with all these love letters and stuff? Life was complicated enough.

"Oh! Finally decided to stop making out with Alicia? We can start practice now, everyone." Even my sarcasm had no heart in stopping the smile on Oliver's face. He just wanted to play quidditch. "Now, listen close, I want to see more waist work by George, you gotta twist more. Fred, give your brother hell from odd angles. Make him work to get a hit on you.

"Katie, you'll be on my side, Angelina, you can be on George's. You can have Alicia too when she recovers from whatever Harry said to her. Is everyone ready?"

"Hey! Alicia!" Angelina called. "Get your arse over here!"

I made my way up into the grandstand and climbed the stairs to the very top—not that I needed to be there. Everything was blurry and I couldn't have targeted any of my teammates as they rode in if I'd wanted to. I pulled out that shard of glass and widened the view as much as I could.

"Here. What're you doin', Harry?!" Oliver asked and rode his broom down. I saw him approaching crystal clear in the glass.

"Well, I can't exactly see you without glasses on." I nodded toward Fred and George—though it seemed mostly just a nod toward the team. "Fred and George had some bits of an old scrying mirror. This lets me see you all."

"Nice job, Harry. You sure you can cover us for practice?"

I nodded. "Yup!" Seeing the smile on Oliver Wood's face when he was told he could still play quidditch was worth spending time out here doing nothing. "Loh-koh-mot-tor!" I animated the mirror to make things easier, pouring my magic into it and leaving it flowing.

When Oliver turned and flew off, I cast the spell twice more to control the Ginny's diary and a ballpoint pen, too. It took a little focus to get everything hovering just right, but I could see the players, the diary, and write at the same time.

Hi Ginny. Back again. Helping the guys practice quidditch. They needed someone to catch if they fall. If I stop writing suddenly, I'm probably grabbing one of your brothers with magic after someone hit them as much as they deserve.

Thanks for talking with me, Harry. Being stuck in this diary is interesting, but I'm so completely sick of it. Have you ever wondered what it's like to only be able to read one book? It might be the most exciting book ever, but it's just one book.

I ummed and ahhed about telling her what'd just happened with Alicia.

So, I just keep having rotten luck with girls.

What happened?!

The reply was so fast, before I'd even finished writing, that I was a little surprised. I realized all too late that I probably shouldn't have brought this up.

First I get this love letter that was all magicked up, then I get Alicia wanting to kiss me

She kissed you?!?!

No! Ugh. This isn't helping.

Sorry. I didn't mean to get all worked up like that. What happened?

The return of Calm Ginny was a relief. Even her words appeared slower.

She picked me up and started running her hand through my mane. It felt kinda okay, but then she kept going on and on about how great it must be to be a little pony.

I still can't believe you're a tiny unicorn.

I was about to reply when I watched Katie unseat George and miss a grab for him when she realized he was overbalancing. "Levi-o-sa!" I shot my magic down and at George. I tracked him as he fell toward the ground and the spell caught him in the chest when he was a good ten feet up still.

Instead of the hard impact, George bounced like he was on a trampoline. I waited for him to reach the bottom of a bounce—a moment before he was going to shoot back up—and ended the spell.

"Thanks, Harry!"

Harry?

Sorry, Ginny, just saving your brother from a day or three in the hospital wing.

Which one?

If I said the idiotic one, would it narrow things down?

Laughter covered the page in a dozen scrawling fonts. Everything from calligraphy to what looked like crisp newspaper print. When she stopped her laughter, I continued.

It was George. Katie knocked him clean off his broom with a shove of her shoulders. For a chaser, she plays an awful lot like a beater. Like then! She almost took Oliver's head off.

I wish I could play. Just once at least. So I can knock one of my stupid brothers off a broom.

What happened last night?

The ink of my words faded away, but no reply came. I waited a good ten minutes or so, focusing more on the three-a-side game of quidditch going on.

Ginny? Why won't you tell me?

I don't want to talk about it.

I considered trying to push, but given my luck with girls I'd probably end up kissing her in the end, or something equally weird. Change of topic time.

So how boring is the diary?

Thanks, Harry. It's really boring. Like, he wrote everything down here. I even have all his class notes. Did you know Tom had terrible handwriting in first year? It's like chicken scratchings!

What was he like? As a person, I mean.

If he was honest with his diary? Manipulative, but there's one thing that is consistent. Tom Riddle always believed he was doing the right thing. I skipped past the class notes and lessons, and read

She paused a moment.

I read how he killed Myrtle. He believed it was the right thing to do, Harry. He was sure it was a hundred percent necessary.

It was a lot to take in. Tom—Voldemort—thought he was doing the right thing? Did he think that when he killed my parents? What could he balance all that against that would make it right?

That's just a little messed up.

Yeah, Harry, it is.

I sat in "silence" for a few minutes. Neither of us wrote anything, and I'm not sure how but it was a comfortable way to be. My thoughts were anything but comfortable.

Tom Voldemort Riddle, a philanthropist. It boggled my mind to try to conceive of. He got high marks in school—did he join a sports team? Did he run around like me avoiding girls who wanted to pay him too much attention?

What about the lessons?

Oh! That's the best bit! He took notes on everything, Harry. I could go through this just like it was class!

Have you tried skipping ahead to where he learns how to drive this book?

I think that is the only thing he didn't write down. So it looks like I try things out myself. How's the game going?

Fred has a good cut along his cheek where Alicia got him with a bludger, and I think George is going to either punch or kiss Katie. Maybe both. Girls are strange.

It took me a few minutes to realize what I'd said, and how Ginny probably took it. Not always the fastest horse in the field. I'd have to remember that one.

Sorry.

Will you be able to get my body back?

I'm going to try as best I can. We're not exactly sure where he went to with it, but Ron is sure he'll be outside the wards Dumbledore put up. He wants to bring the wards down, which means he wants to get back in here.

Harry?

Yes, Ginny?

If it's too dangerous, don't risk it.

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I stared at the works until they faded from the page. What was I meant to say in reply?

Don't talk like that. It's just some horse ghost that's hijacked your body. I'll get it back in no time.

Thank you, Harry.

I was surprised. After all, I hadn't actually gotten her body back yet. "Levi-o-sa!" I aimed my spell at Katie as she fell off her broom. While she didn't hit the ground, it wasn't because of my spell.

Fred zoomed past Katie as she was falling and caught her, though in doing so it meant his broom was overloaded and he was heading down sharply.

I cast a second minor levitation charm on Fred mere inches before he hit the ground.

Your brother's an idiot.

I dismissed the spells as both reached the ground safely.

Which one? You could be talking about any of them!

Writing my own laughter along with Ginny's, I guess I'd lost track of the time while we chatted, because Oliver flew over on his broom.

"Nice work with your spells, Harry. Same time tomorrow?" Oliver's excitement for quidditch apparently knew no bounds nor any limits. We could be stuck in another world, with unknown monsters and strange new creatures all around us, and he'd want to take some time out for quidditch.

Of course his raw enthusiasm works. I hadn't even gotten to jump on my broom and he had me excited to come back out again. "Sure, Oliver. Gotta keep everyone's skills up."

"That's the spirit! Oi, what you got there?" He pointed at Ginny's diary.

"Ginny. The professors are trying to work out how to get her body back, but until then she's in this book." I held up the diary with the charms I'd woven already.

Ginny, Oliver Wood is here. He says hi.

Hi!

"Huh. Well, I can't think of anyone better to take care of her until it's all sorted. Good luck with finding your body, Ginny, and I'll see you back in the commons, Harry." Sitting up on his broom, Oliver gave one last cocky grin before zooming off toward Hogwarts.

Is he gone?

The words were tiny, barely legible in one corner.

I brought the diary back so only I could see it.

Ye

I didn't get to finish the word before Ginny was replying.

DON'T DO THAT! I had such a crush on Oliver!

What? How was I meant to know that?

He's so strong and loves quidditch so much! What did he say? Tell me everything!

He didn't say much. Complimented me on my spells, asked what your diary was, and he said good luck with getting your body back.

What was he doing? What did he look like? The worst part of all this is not being able to see.

I tried to think for a moment.

He was sitting on his

No. Can you draw him?

Her question surprised me. I'd never really tried drawing before—not since pictures in primary school for a non-existent mother to pin on the fridge—so wasn't sure if I could.

I'll try, I guess.

Harry! Stop!

It was terrible. A stick figure at best, and I was barely done with the broom and starting on his body. I felt terrible for not being able to draw properly.

Sorry.

No, Harry, it's alright. You've never drawn before?

Does sticking pasta to paper in muggle school count?

Not really. Why did you stick pasta to paper?

You know, I have no idea. I guess our teachers just wanted us to do something that didn't involve hurting each other.

Did it work?

Memories of Dudley and his friends came back—they were not fond memories.

Not really.

Why don't you try doing something easier, like the quidditch stands?

Okay, gimme a few to head outside so I can get a good look at it.

I closed the diary around the piece of mirror and made my way out of the stands. Dinner would be served soon, but I didn't feel particularly hungry. When the grass met my hooves again, I felt a particular sense of rightness.

"Don't you dare eat grass, Harry," I said out loud. "Not. One. Bite."

Despite my words, it was tempting to try it. I looked around and even up, but couldn't see anyone. Why don't I listen to myself?

I leaned down and bit at the grass, which didn't break. I tried chewing, biting, but it wasn't until I got a grip around a tuft with my tongue and jerked that the blades actually broke off in my mouth.

It tasted pretty horrid.

With a big smile I spat the grass out. "Perfect. Now I know I'm not meant to eat grass." With such high spirits that I almost felt like pronking, I walked away from the pitch until I figured I was far enough to be able to see it. I turned around and froze at the blurry view.

"I'm the biggest idiot ever. I could have just used the mirror!"

I used the locomotion charm to float the shard of glass out and shift its focus around. Yup, it was certainly easier than coming all the way out here on foot. Ugh. Opening the diary back up, I tried to draw what I saw.

That's good, Harry, but you slipped with a bit. I can fix that.

The writing faded, but so did the one line I'd messed up.

Thanks, Ginny. It's hard to do more precise stuff with locomotor. It doesn't help I have three of them going at once.

I finished drawing a rough representation of the quidditch pitch and stands, complete with the little goals. After a little more flourish (which amounted to adding the tops to the towers) I considered it done.

You're pretty good considering you've never drawn before. Practice more with still objects, but look at people and work out how they move. The secret to drawing is understanding how things are put together.

You could try talking to Madam Pomfrey about borrowing a medical journal.

Her knowledge of the subject surprised me, but it felt good to be told my terrible drawing was a good start.

How do you know so much about drawing?

Charlie. Whenever he'd come home, he'd show me sketches he'd made of dragons. I wanted to know how to draw as good as he could, so he taught me. I kept practicing as much as I could.

So you could teach me?

To my absolute shock details began to fill in on the simple sketch I'd made. Flags, people, even tiny players hovered above the field until it looked amazing. I stared in awe for nearly a minute before I remembered I had to write replies to Ginny.

That's amazing.

I can teach you to draw like this, but you're going to need to practice. Drawing is like anything, you need to keep doing it to get better at it.

Thanks, Ginny, you're the best!

Thank you, Harry. You're pretty amazing yourself. How can you keep three spells going at once?

Standing up, I floated my mirror shard to my bag, and used my mouth to lift my bag onto my back. Now my stomach was alerting me to the high likelihood that it needed food in the next hour.

It's getting easier with practice, which I'm getting a lot of because I need to do it like this. It's funny how much you miss hands when you don't have them any longer.

Try missing a whole body! Sometimes I think I can feel my arm, or a leg, but there's just nothing there.

But you can feel things touching your pages?

A little time passed, maybe twenty seconds, before she started writing her answer.

I didn't think I could, but you know I think I can. Try touching the page

I started walking back for the school building with that same faster-walking pace that had worked so well for getting me away from the pitch. Hovering the book up, I pressed my horn to it.

Was that a stick? Did you just poke me with a stick?!

No! I used my horn. You felt it?

I did! Sorry, it's kinda hard to work out what is happening without being able to see.

As I slipped back inside Hogwarts itself, I felt a measure of safety—like the very rock of the castle would protect me against danger.

Well, I'll just have to get really good at drawing really fast, so you can see what I can see.

Thanks, Harry.

---

"Rubeus Hagrid, you are an utter fool." The huge half-man half-giant sat on a low bench seat in his cell. His present lodgings were only half as good as the brochures hinted, and given it was Azkaban prison that was saying something. "Gone and done something utterly stupid, and now you're no help to anyone."

Looking down at his hands, Rubeus opened and closed his fists. Bearing the blood of giants meant he could have broken the chains they'd bound him in, knocked down the walls, and bludgeoned any wizard or witch in his way, but the blood of humans tempered his impulsive ways so that he knew if he did all that a dementor (or ten) would sweep down and kiss away his soul.

A light tapping on his door caused Rubeus to look up and raise one bushy eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"I bring you a book to read and some little bit of news." The voice was low, but there was a sense of breathlessness to it that implied the speaker wasn't as big as a human.

"I don't have much call for books." Rubeus heard another annoying knock on the door. "Buzz off."

Another knock. "The news concerns Hogwarts."

Both Rubeus' big hands clenched into fists as he stood up—not that standing made him much taller. Even sitting, Rubeus' head almost scraped the ceiling of his cell. "What're you talkin' abou—"

Rubeus Hagrid froze as a small shape stepped through the door of his cell with a book in hand. "A house-elf? In Azkaban?"

"No one could think of a reason to kill me, and none wanted me left free." Bowing while tipping an imaginary hat. "The guards here didn't know what to do with me, so they made me Azkaban's house-elf. Do you want a book?"

Holding out one hand, Rubeus was surprised at the gentleness with which the tiny creature put the offered book within. He looked down at the title. "Dragonrider?" The title surprised Rubeus. "What'd you say about Hogwarts?"

"Oh? Information isn't free in Azkaban, but you let Toil give you a free one for your first week. You have only been here a week?" Toil asked.

"Yeah."

"Hogwarts is gone. Poof. Disappeared. Took a huge chunk of countryside with it. Causing quite the stir what with all the high-n-mighty types who have their whelps there." Toil tapped at the book in Rubeus' hand. "This one of the best I have. Take care, or I take care."

"What do you mean, gone?" Rubeus almost dropped the book in his thirst for more information. "I've only been 'ere nine days, how can it be gone?"

"Nobody knows! Everybody cares! Nine days? That's not long. You have useful information for Toil, and Toil will find out more about here-again gone-again school for wizard whelps." Toil did a little twirl around the front of the tiny (any room was tiny with Rubeus Hagrid in it, but this cell was particularly small) cell. "Information more important than anything in here. Even lives are cheap. How many dementors did you see guarding the front door?"

The question surprised Rubeus. He tried to think back. "Four. There were four. Three to the left and one on the right—facing toward the door from the outside."

Toil grinned hugely. "Ha! What's your name? Tell Toil so he remember who to spare."

The house-elf seemed a little off the rails to Rubeus, but he had to admit even a mad house-elf was preferable to no company. "Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid."

Tilting his head to the side, Toil looked up at Rubeus. "Hagrid Rubeus Hagrid. Strange name, but fitting to have such—"

"No-no. Just call me Hagrid."

"Hagrid? Hagrid! Small name for a big wizard, but bigger name than Toil, and Toil is small, so it fits. Hagrid is owed one piece of useful information, Toil," Toil said to himself, even waving a finger. "There. Toil remember Hagrid the Big because Toil remembers everyone he owes."

Rubeus watched the house-elf walk back through the door as if it weren't there. "Thank you, Toil." His father's courtesy was so ingrained that even in Azkaban, Rubeus Hagrid couldn't stop.

Toil poked just his head back through the door, then his right hand to tip his still missing hat. "You're most welcome, Hagrid the Big."

Once the sound of Toil outside his door was gone, Rubeus sat back down on his bench. "What a strange fellow." In his hand, still, was the book. "Don't know what this is all about, but if it has dragons in it, it can't be bad."

---

"Guess who's down the hall, to the left, and bi-iiiiii-g?" Toil poked his head through a door and looked at the wild-haired figure chained to the back wall of the cage. "Oh no! Mr. Bitey is sleeping!"

Tip-toeing forward, Toil almost reached the figure slumped in the chains when the chained up man lunged toward him. "Help! Mr. Bitey trying to bite Toil!"

"Come here you wretch! I'll give you Mr. Bitey!" Sirius Black looked, to anyone watching from the doorway, like a madman. He slathered and snarled at the house-elf. "Come on! I'm hungry!"

"Woo! You can't catch me, Mr. Bitey!" As he capered about the cell, Toil used his magic to send a slip of paper into Mr. Bitey's hair. He saw the moment Sirius felt it, and could see the flash of knowledge in the recipient's eyes. "Can Mr. Bitey speak?"

"What're you doing in there, Toil? Stop pestering your cellmate!" a guard shouted from outside.

Toil did a back-flip toward the door and poked his head through. "Sowwy! Toil just wanted to play with the puppy!" He had to dodge the guard's boot as it swung toward his head.

Once the sound of boots trailed off into the distance, Sirius rolled his shoulders and relaxed into the chains. "What's new?" He fished at his hair to get the note out.

"We have a new special friend who gave Toil a special bit of information!" Toil jumped onto the nest of rags near the front of the cell. "Hagrid the Big told Toil that there is now only three dementors guarding the front door of Azkaban."

"One I could handle, Toil, just one. What about a wand?" Sirius leaned his weight onto the chains and strained against them to keep his muscles working. "Wait. You said Hagrid?"

"Big name, big wizard! So big he could crush Toil with just one pinkie. Toil know just what book make big wizard happy." Toil squirmed his body down to hide inside the pile of rags. "What about Hagrid Rubeus Hagrid?"

Sirius smiled. "Well, if we can get him halfway to angry, we don't have to worry about my chains."

"Why that?" Toil only had his head poking out of the mass now.

"Because he'd strangle me to death."

Author's Note:

To whomever is most relevant: The castle is very old, built long before anyone invented central heating. How is it doing in its newfound polar environment? The staff won't be able to re-cast any heating/insulation enchantments if they wear out...

"I'll field this one." With a sneer and the kind of sharp sniff that bore the ill-tidings of a loogie's death, Argus Filch wiped one hand clean on his coat. "No idea. Place stays warm. Just works.

"I honestly got no clue what these blighters'll want next. 'Ow does the heatin' work? Where's all the fancy magic things kept?" His sneer deepened. "Wizards!"

---

So I do this "Ask X" thing. X can be any pony within the story. You can ask them anything and they will definitely, hopefully reply. Keep the questions appropriate to the age-rating of the stories, and they will answer the best question in the author notes of the next chapter. The more votes a comment has the more likely I will get it to the right pony to answer. Try to keep it to one question per post! They will pick one question per chapter.

Support me on Patreon or fuel my writing on Ko-Fi!

Join me on Discord. Warning, said chat may contain NSFW material and should be considered adult in nature.

Awesome ponies who are already helping to keep me in keyboards and rum:
A.P.O.N.I.
Boulder
Canary in the Coal Mine
Daremo
Dio-Drogynous
KFS Crimson
Lazyreader19
Nils
Sirion123

And special thanks to the following, for careful eyes and friendly words:
Lab

Comments

[Bugsydor]

Sooner than anticipated, but hardly unwelcome!

Ginny teaching Harry to draw is adorable.

There seem to be a fair number of witches and wizards who would welcome the change. I wonder how long until we come across some student who went whole hog on magic with intent to transform...

[raw19]

Quite an interesting turn of events.

[nighters]

harry is a girl magnet his dignity is slaying to bits but least he adorable
oh no Hagrid! and toil sounds nice

[Venerable Ro]

I like what you've done with Oliver, 'tis nice to see background characters getting a moment in the spotlight like this.

[Twilight_Shimmer]

Alicia: "Have you considered trying magic in hopes of turning into a Pegasi so you could fly and still play Quiddich?"

[Kichi]

(Ask X) For Hermione... You managed to find the Basilisk was Slytherin monster when the teachers could not, do you have another good idea for Ginny?

[Greenhorn]

9456077
Does this mean we will see the full escaping scene soon? Sounds good to me.

Ask Lucius Malfoy: Have you heard of what happen to Hogwarts and your previous son because of the accursed diary you slipped to Ginny Weasley?

[Damaged]

9456401 I promise you a break-out.

[Undeadking243]

Cadence: How do you plan on getting through the barrier around Hog- I mean the Crystal Empire?

[Flutters Is Shy]

Is the Crystal Empire still there, 'somewhere', or has Hogwarts completely replaced it?

[Canary In The Coal Mine]

9456558

Is the Crystal Empire still there, 'somewhere', or has Hogwarts completely replaced it?

Yes.

There are another couple of options you haven't suggested here either that is also true. It's complicated, and will come out during the story.

[Flutters Is Shy]

9456612
*Stares at your name, looks at the authors name*
... Are you the one who commissioned the story? Cause I remember this story being with the rest of the commissioned works...

[Canary In The Coal Mine]

9456623

Kinda? It's a bit of a grey area. I didn't explicitly set up a commission for a Harry Potter story but I certainly fund the story and without my non-stop talking about the other Harry Potter MLP crossovers it almost certainly wouldn't have been written, but many of the ideas and plot directions are from Damaged and are just as much of a surprise to me as to the other readers. I'm more of a sounding board for weird ideas and canon and fanon since Damaged doesn't read Harry Potter fanfiction and only going off the movies (with a single watch of them at that) in the beginning.

I guess you can say this story was a bit of a challenge put forth that most Harry Potter crossovers fail in some manner because the school as a setting is almost as important as the characters, and crossovers that just plop other properties' characters at Hogwarts are too HP focused and using just Harry in another crossover tends to be too focused on the other property. Damaged's solution was to include the school as part of the crossover into another setting.

[Damaged]

9456666

single watch of them

I have actually watched the first two about 10 times through now since starting the story, mostly to cement the characters' tone in my head.

9456623 Canary is funding the story, providing many ideas for it, helping me straighten out things (basically as a pre-reader), and also acting as fact-checker. Of course, given the books being different to the movies (I am reading the books now, btw, but slowly) and even a lot of that not making sense (because written for a young audience), I do get some wiggle room with things.

For example, the prison Azkaban.

There is no "party time" where the dementors just rush in and suck everyone's happy moments out for poops and giggles. It is run as a prison, though punishments involve some personal time with a dementor or five. The prison as described in the books/movies is more like a feeding pit for dementors rather than a place you put people you don't want to kill in case they might be useful.

[Flutters Is Shy]

9456697
9456666
Well, whatever the setup, I would like the both of you to know that the story is turning out wonderfully! Quite entertaining.

[FanOfMostEverything]

What's your name? Tell Toil so he remember who to spare.

Well. That may poke into my nightmares tonight.

Also, poor Ginny. Caught between two crushes with hardly any way to interact with either. At least Harry can keep her company.

And yeah, I expect that a few students have already decided that equinoid adorability (and the ability to use magic again) is worth giving up their hands. Though a sport that revolves around throwing things, swinging bats, and catching a small object does not translate well to ponies... other than that time Harry caught the Snitch in his mouth.

[Ranun]

Oh noes I have to wait for next chapters.

[Adenbadens]

Sombra: when the empire was first banished, were you already trapped in the crystals or did a human put you there?

9456088
9457461
Ginny teaching Harry to draw explains the cover art: it’s Harry drawing himself for Ginny from the scrying mirror’s perspective.

[Vutava]

We could be stuck in another world, with unknown monsters and strange new creatures all around us, and he'd want to take some time out of quidditch.

for

[Damaged]

9459032 One of these days I'll manage a chapter without errors. One day...

Thanks, as always! 🦄

[Silentwoodfire]

OOps, I ran out of chapters

[Damaged]

9461174 I'm working to fix that.

[harts fire]

i was vary late to find this story, shame shame on me.

Damaged defiantly has his next grate hit going hear.

[ssokolow]

9467597

Then I guess I'm a lazy author and you can move on, because the whole point of this was to avoid your first two options like the plague. Good day.

Ok, that shows such a misconception of the nature of my argument that I have to respond to it.

(And since I got the impression you might not have read my entire (admittedly long) comment, I'm bolding the most salient points in this one to aid in skim reading.)

Please note that the paragraph you quoted continues with "(But, at the same time, if you are good at creating and hooking readers on a feel of your own design, it has the potential for the highest reward because it's what makes some of the most memorable fics.)". It was a general statement about the risk-reward balance of what you attempted, to set the stage for later arguments, not an indictment of the story.

Some of my favourite fics do it. For example, a Ranma 1/2 fic named Elegy for a Golden Youth, which takes inspiration from Lord Dunsany's The King of Elfland's Daughter.

More importantly, note that one of my later paragraphs begins with "There's nothing inherently wrong with any one of these things [...] but, taken all together [...]"

If you don't want to individually address all of the points which combine to produce the problem, then the passage you want to be addressing is "Overall, it just has a problematic eagerness to get rid of unwanted aspects of canon as quickly as possible and replace them with what you'd rather have instead" and the issue with that is that it shows a sort of disrespect for the reader's existing relationship with the source material... similar to why slash tends to turn off even people who aren't normally opposed to reading about same-sex relationships. (Slash authors generally don't justify their fantasies in the context of canon... they just take it for granted that characters X and Y being gay is canon-compatible without requiring any explanation for why no hint was ever seen in canon... sort of like the written version of putting captions on porn when people are likely to recognize the pics they used.)

There's nothing wrong with wanting to be creative and distinct, but it's important to either give the reader a clear connection from point A (canon) to point B (where your story starts, chronologically) or be distinct enough that the AU appeals on its own merits. Otherwise, it evokes an "If this has no respect or care for the integrity of the story I love, why should I care about it?" response.

In some ways, it's actually harder to write fanfiction than original fiction, because, if you write something that feels too incompatible with the canon timeline, your first task isn't just to hook the reader's interest like it would be with original fiction, but, also, to justify their continued interest in a story so different from what they have a prior emotional attachment to.

[ssokolow]

9468254

So yes, I am very aware of dialect and pronunciation, and will continue to show the Weasley boys as having a little bit of a Scottish drawl.

Fair enough. That said, I still think it's strange and distracting to write characters, who began in a novel, with a more pronounced representation of their accent than the original author did.

and being an only child and a bit of a lonely girl in primary school I have pitched her as having a bit of trouble relating to youngsters—she has a habit of treating them like her own age, and then getting confused when they don't act exactly how she pictures they should.

Again, fair enough. I didn't interpret her that way, so that's part of it, but I also felt the particular phrasing she used to be off somehow.

All of this is a bit subtly hidden, of course, since the entire story filters through Harry's eyes, and lacking his normal distance glasses prescription is only the first problem when it comes to the mind of a 12 yr old who thinks he's saved the world twice already, and knows everything (which to be fair, everyone did at that age—know everything, not save the world).

Just a minor note. The original HP books were written with the intent of doing something similar, despite using a third-person narrator. (Specifically, the narrator was intended to be perceiving things with a simplicity of youth which grew up with Harry.)

I really didn't like that when I was younger since I was firmly wedded to the idea of the narrator being objective and having perfect perception of the situation so, when the narrator's perspective on the Dursleys in book 1 and details in later books came into conflict, I interpreted it as the later books being flawed for introducing incompatibilities with the "objective truth" of the details in earlier books.

[Chrome Masquerade]

Fred walked up to me while his twin brother was being pummeled, and reached a hand down to stroke my mane. It was the oddest gesture I could have imagined under the circumstances. "Captain!" Fred called. "Captain! I can't practice. I'm feeling a little horse."

https://m.

[Rueneko]

9467930
wow
long thread

[Mahtan]

9468854
There is also that the story is just boring so far.