• Published 19th Apr 2019
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The Gate - computerneek



After a portal is opened between worlds, a series of letter-bearing owls passes through it. What could possibly go wrong?

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Chapter 32

Lyra lets out a faint moan as she awakens, one hand rising to her forehead.

Hermione’s head snaps up, abandoning the book she’d been reading. “Lyra?” she asks.

Lyra opens one eye to look at her. “Hermione?” she asks.

“You’re awake!” Hermione informs her. “Are you okay?”

“Eh,” Lyra grumbles. “Just a sec, I need to reset my magic.”

Hermione watches in silence for two seconds.

“Alright,” Lyra continues, the pain disappearing suddenly from her voice, as she sits up. “What do you need?”

Hermione points.

“... Oh boy. Ah, do you know what spell she fobbed?”

Hermione watches Sweetie’s head suddenly begin shrinking much faster than it had before. “The summoning charm,” she answers. “I have no idea how she got that result out of it. I had to break it with finite incantatem.”

“Finite incantatem?” Lyra asks. “What’s that?”

“It’s a third-year spell,” she answers. “Disrupts active spellcasting, nothing else.”

Lyra draws her wand. “Finite incantatem… Oh, yeah, it would do that. Only effective against wand magic, though.” She puts the wand away, then hops out of bed. “Anyways, these few over here aren’t going to be as easy to fix.” She glances up at Madam Pomfrey, bustling into the room in response to her commotion. “I can accelerate their recovery by a few times, but that’s about it. Harry’s got a bit of an advantage, so if I play against it, I can boost his recovery about twice as far as the rest. Call it… eight hours for Harry, sixteen for these three.”

Sweetie Belle suddenly leaps into a sitting position, bolting awake with a gasp and looking around. “What- What happened?” she asks.

Hermione and Lyra both look at her, one eyebrow raised apiece.

Sweetie shrugs. “Last I remember, I was trying that summoning charm again…?”

Hermione nods. “Botched.”

“Darn. How bad…?”

Hermione glances at Lyra. “Well, you managed to hit Lyra as well- so, two days?”

Sweetie facepalms. “Darn! Um… I didn’t miss the Quidditch match, did I?”

Lyra sighs. “Yes, you missed it,” she states. Then she glances at Hermione. “Unless it was rescheduled?”

Hermione shakes her head. “Played on schedule. Harry was supposed to be seeker, so we had to add a backup seeker real quick. We won.”

“Really?” Lyra asks. “Who was that seeker?”

“Me.”

Lyra laughs. “Well, that’s an easy one.”

Blink. “What do you mean?”

“Well, your magic meshed with the broom, right?”

Blink. “Uh, maybe?”

“So you had fine-tuned, instant control over exactly what it did, not to mention it could outperform itself by drawing on your reserves as well as its own passive collectors, right?”

She blinks. “Yeah?”

“Anything strange happen just before you caught the snitch?”

“Uh… Everyone’s calling it a ‘Sonic Rainboom’.”

Lyra holds up her hand. “High five!”

Hermione lifts her hand, and Lyra slaps it. “What…?”

“Really? … Right, you’re not familiar with Equestrian legends. The Sonic Rainboom is the name given to the initiation effect of a certain thaumic pattern that allows Equestrians to rather casually travel faster than sound. It’s very hard to kick off, but fairly easy to hold- and top speed depends on how strong you are. How fast did you manage?”

“Wait a second,” Sweetie Belle injects. “Instructor Granger Rainboomed!?

Hermione glances at Sweetie while Lyra rolls her eyes, before turning back to Lyra. “Um… Mach six, I think- for two seconds. Straight down.”

Lyra nods. “On a broom.”

Hermione nods. “Uh, yeah? How would that…?”

Lyra smiles. “Even the best broom is about two percent efficient in converting Equestrian flight magic into actual flight,” she answers. “If you were to fly under your own power, you’d get about eighty percent efficiency- all the way up to a hundred on a Rainboom. The broom would actually have reduced the Rainboom efficiency to around one percent.”

Hermione blinks. “Meaning…”

Lyra grins. “Meaning, I can teleport to the moon, but you can fly to the moon. Even Rainbow can’t come anywhere close to that.”

“Wait, Rainbow? What about her?”

“She’s the only Equestrian known to be capable of producing a Sonic Rainboom,” Lyra answers simply. “As a matter of fact, the Rainboom is named after her.”

“... Oh.”

Lyra heaves a sigh. “Well, I’ve got classes to attend and homework to finish. I’ll see you around!” She vanishes.

Hermione stares at the spot she’d disappeared from, and drops her head into her hands.

“Is- Is something wrong?” Sweetie Belle asks, hopping off her bed to come running.

“Does that girl ever stay put long enough to hear everything you have to say?”

Sweetie pauses, one arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “Um… No, I don’t think so. She is less, uh, flighty in potions class, but…” She heaves a sigh. “But Dia- er, Instructor Tiara ends up answering my questions more often.”

She looks up at her. “And can you please stop calling me ‘Instructor Granger’ outside of class? My name’s Hermione.”


Filch can’t decide on anything that could make his day worse.

But he’s very aware of the fact that absence of evidence is not evidence of absence; thus, he refuses to make the notorious statement, “things can’t get any worse”. He knows perfectly well that they can, he just doesn’t know how.

It’s Monday evening, after the Quidditch match. Some fifth-years managed to plaster frog spleens all over the ceiling in one of the dungeon classrooms; he’s just finished scrubbing them all off. Before that, though, the Crusaders managed to flood half the library and set fire to the lake.

He’s still not sure how they managed to do that from the bathroom halfway across the castle from both locations.

Fortunately, no permanent damage had been done; the Giant Squid and all the merpeople had been smart enough to stay underwater until the flames went out, and Madam Pince has a spell she can use to restore the books to their original condition.

He pauses in the passage, cleaning supplies in his hands. There’s that Lyra girl, leaning against the wall next to a closed door, eyes closed and looking mildly put out.

He quickly decides that his day probably just got worse, though he can hope it hasn’t. Lyra is, after all, the ridiculously powerful Equestrian with no qualms about flinging that power around. At least she’s a little more responsible than some of the others he can name.

He glances sideways at a few classroom signs as he approaches, verifying his position in the castle and comparing it against his memory. Ah, yes, she’s permitted to be here; she’s not breaking any rules. So, at least his day hasn’t been completely ruined- yet, at least- by this encounter.

He doesn’t want to simply pass her by, though. If something’s bothering her enough to make her look like that, he at least wants to know what it is. That way, he can- hopefully- keep it from making his day any worse than it has to.

He pauses again, a few feet away from her. “Something the matter?” he asks, in his usual, irritable tone.

“Not really,” Lyra answers him, not looking up. “I’m just… trying to solve a little problem. Not long after we started, I figured out how to expand a British wizard’s magic matrix to match that of an Equestrian- and rather promptly discovered a facet of British magic that Equestrians simply don’t have. A few days after that, I found out that British facet is the one that makes self-transfiguration possible- including animagi. So I’ve been trying to find a way to expand an Equestrian’s magic matrix to include it, but I can’t seem to-!” She stops suddenly, eyes snapping to him. “Wait a minute. Why…?”

He blinks, backstepping slightly. “Uh-!”

“Oh, sorry- no, I just happened to notice that your magic matrix seems to be more… well, lacking. Almost like… Yeah. You probably have trouble using active magic?”

He takes another step backwards, debating running for it. “Active magic?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Lyra nods. “Accidental magic, wand magic, and so on. As different from passive magic, like magic resistance or perception.”

“Uh, yeah, I can’t… do that.”

She winces. “Yeah… You’ve got the facilities for it in your magic matrix, but it’s so badly damaged it might as well be missing. Hmm…” She leans against the wall again, staring at the ceiling. “If… Yeah. If I adapt my papa tango spell- that’s the one I used to expand British wizards’ matrices- I should be able to… Yeah. Magical manipulation facilities should be a large enough segment of the overall matrix for it to work… And if I do the magical perception facilities as well, I can heal someone that has those damaged… Add the thaumic reservoir, thaumic rejuvenation facilities, and that extra British facet, and it should be big enough I can apply it to an Equestrian as well.” She glances down at him. “Any part it tries to add that the subject happens to already have, undamaged, would be skipped. Um… Yeah. Gimme a couple days to refine it, and to talk to Bonbon, and I might be able to restore your active manipulation capabilities. We’ll call it, uh, Whiskey Tango.” She vanishes into thin air.

“Restore?” Filch asks, confused.

He’s not sure whether to classify the encounter as a good thing or a bad thing, overall. Lyra seemed to have realized he’s a squib- but she also said something about changing that.

Then she’d mentioned whiskey.

He doesn’t know what to think.

He stands for a few more seconds, trying to process it, before he discards the idea as gibberish and resumes his path to the supply closet.

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