Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student
Starlight Starbright
Three trunks and three students were not going to fit inside Miss Selkirk’s automobile on the way back to the house, particularly with all of the things Sweetie knew were packed inside them and stacked in bags on top. Her extra purchases were mostly books, while Sparrow collected just about every kind of hard candy that they had found on their trip through Diagon Alley. Wycliffe was remarkably stingy by comparison, and only bought some dragonfire-roasted chestnuts for sharing after being ribbed repeatedly by Sparrow. The nuts were far better than Sweetie had expected, sizzling on the tongue with a crisp caramelized coating that crunched between her teeth, and washed down by a cup of sweet tea from a nearby vendor.
The goblins at the bank were very interested in all three of their wands, and examined them closely under the watchful eyes of Miss Selkirk and William Weasley. Each wand was unique to the wizard, they explained, and could be used as an additional form of identification during times when a depositor’s vault needed the extra security. In return, they gave each of the young students a handful of small black candies that tasted vile, although they did not admit it until after going back out into the shadows of the alley. Even then, Sparrow said there had to be something good about them or they would not be called candy, so she took what the other two did not want.
It was dark by the time they were dragging the trunks in the direction of Miss Selkirk’s automobile, parked out in the Muggle street. The alley had changed as the human’s sun went down, and seemed to be a different world totally than the busy beehive of humans before. The crowd inside the Leaky Cauldron had grown until even Miss Selkirk could not make space through the crowd for the three students trailing behind, or at least until a huge human at the bar spotted them and plowed forward.
“Make way,” he rumbled, waving a tankard that looked as if it could hold several gallons of cider. “Let the young ladies through. Budge up there, Kinkaid!” A hefty human who had been reluctant to move out of their way suddenly found himself picked up by one massive hand and deposited on a tall shelf overlooking the bar area.
“Thank you, Hagrid!” Miss Selkirk had to fairly shout to be heard, and hustled the three of them through the open space until they were once more outside in the cooling night air. To Sweetie’s disappointment, the sky was obscured by low clouds, the used book store was closed, and humans heavily dressed in shabby clothes shuffled down the shadowed sidewalks like mindless zombies.
“Stay close, children,” ordered Miss Selkirk. The walk back to the automobile seemed much longer than before, and Sparrow took the flashlight off her knapsack and turned it on to provide some additional illumination. Since only about half of the street lights were functioning, putting out a sickly yellow glow that turned all the automobiles the same color, it was an exceedingly good idea, far better than Sweetie changing back into her normal shape and using a light spell with her horn.
It was a great relief when Sparrow finally pointed out Miss Selkirk’s Volvo and she opened the trunk so they could put their trunks inside, a clever play on human language that Wycliffe did not understand but Sweetie thought was so neat. It was easier to say than to do, because the trunks were both bulky and heavy, and another automobile had parked rather close behind them. It took the helpful assistance of a large human passing by to boost the trunks up one at a time and stuff them into the open space, which turned out to barely be large enough once Wycliffe was put in the front seat and packed around, and Sparrow wedged herself in back, leaving a spot for Sweetie to sit on her lap. It was very nice of the tall dark man, and Sweetie had to thank him once they were done stuffing and wedging.
“Thank you, sir,” she said politely, bobbing her head in as close to a polite bow as she could do in her human form without risking a tumble. “We really appreciate your help.”
The tall man smiled in the shadows, a brief glint of brilliant white teeth in sharp contrast to his dark face. “Think nothing of it, young lady. I think you will find our world quite friendly in places, and I hope the three of you enjoy your time at school. Now, hop inside so you can get home. Not everything out in the night is friendly, after all.”
* * *
The Crystal Empire was nothing like Hogwarts in far too many ways. Then there was a way in which it was far too much like Theodore’s school, and he was reminded of that particular quirk after the first day of studying with New Leaf.
In the muggle movies, some hero sent to a dangerous world would have been shooting aliens and romancing girls a few minutes after arriving. In the Crystal Empire, that would have made for an extraordinarily short movie, since all of the girls were the aliens. To be honest, Theodore intended on going out to see the city as soon as possible. He just wanted to know what kind of traps he was sticking his head into. And that meant homework. Lots and lots of homework.
Granite Peaks and his teams had cleaned out most of the obvious dangers already, scrubbed the dark crystals back to their original colors, purged what could be called ‘security stations’ throughout the city, and managed to get a start on secret rooms and laboratories. If Sombra had been sane, it would have been an easier job, but then again, it would have made this problem moot.
Some of the installations seemed designed to kill whoever poked their curious horns in, and with entrapping curses that grew stronger with the strength of the horn. It was no wonder that Granite Peaks had added griffons to his team, and likewise that Princess Celestia or Princess Cadence did not add their skills to the cleaning. Reading up about defusing and disarming those curses was an exercise in twisted logic that was helped by his Slytherin training, but not enough to keep him from being totally surrounded by a sea of discarded paper notes by the time he was too tired to keep his eyes open.
“Good heavens,” he managed with a look at his gnome alarm clock, which had just given out a low snore from where it was snoozing on a nearby shelf with both gnarled hands over its eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this late? Leaf, you should get to your room. We’ll take after this again tomorrow morning.”
“Eh?” New Leaf looked up with a piece of paper stuck to his nose, which took several quick shakes and a sneeze to blow free. “Oh. Um… Room. Right.”
The way the unicorn said the word spoke much louder than any Legilimency lessons Theodore had ever gotten from Professor Snape.
“You don’t have a room.” It was most certainly not a question, although Leaf looked as if he were about to treat it as one. “Don’t tell me you’ve been sleeping in the streets since you returned to the Crystal Empire.”
“No.” That, at least, was a firm and unmistakable truth, complete with a low shudder that traveled down Leaf’s coat. “Spaces here in the castle. Places where nopony looks.”
“And if you ever went missing, nobody would ever know where to look for you.” Theodore shook off his growing fatigue and managed to stand up. “I’ll get you some blankets.”
“No, I can just—”
“I didn’t ask,” snapped Theodore, a little sharper than he intended. He managed to find the bedroom’s closet, a room that ponies and people had in common, and drew out several glittering blankets that were more works of art than practical. “Peaks said I was supposed to look after you.”
The miserable blue-green unicorn slumped in one spot while Theodore unfolded the blankets into a pad against the cold crystal floor, then folded one back to use as a cover. It was not much of a bed, but it certainly beat any place in the castle where he might huddle, and it gave his partner access to a bathroom. To be honest, if Leaf was around him too much longer without a real bath, the temptation to drag him into a bathtub and scrub might have become irresistible.
After taking care of his own bathroom needs in the awkwardly low facilities, he really did not expect to see Leaf when he returned to the bedroom. Still, there was a lump under the blanket and the faint sound of nervous breathing when Theodore climbed into his own bed.
It was… comforting in a way, because Theodore had gotten used to sleeping in the Slytherin dormitories despite, not because, of his fellow mischievous students. The world was a harsh, cruel place, and his House taught that lesson every time anyone slacked in their diligence. From the minor curses and charms every student learned to put on their possessions, to dodging Stinging Hexes in the corridors, every minute was spent being alert. Only the beds were off-limits to mischief, mostly because a waking wizard student with eels under the sheets tended to violent and vengeful spellslinging. Oh, and God forbid one of the upperclassmen decide that a lower year student needed some extra ‘attention’ in the form of curses or malicious potions they were unable to counter. The bully’s peer group took care of that.
So lying in bed while listening to the various breathing and snores of his fellow students had become a part of his life he never got to experience at home. It would be lost forever once New Leaf found his own room, or worst case when Theodore returned to his cold and empty home on the edge of the familiar bog, far away from the colorful unicorn and his kind. That’s not to say he trusted the cowardly teal twit or any other four-legged resident of this strange place. The fact that one of his highest priorities upon settling in was casting few quick warning charms around his bed proved that.
And yet… if in some world Theodore had been part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle and fled when he was destroyed, he really could not see any possibility where he would have the nerve to return and face the people who had been harmed. It had been hard enough for Theodore to plan his return for a second Seventh Year in Hogwarts knowing he had not intentionally harmed any of the students remaining, even the ones who had chosen their school over certain destruction. Who was more of a coward, the quivering unicorn who faced his fears, or the human wizard who had been avoiding them for so long.
So how could he consider himself to be superior to New Leaf?
It was a troublesome thought that followed him like a hungry Dementor no matter where he tried to direct his mind. This new world of ponies and crystal was supposed to be better than his previous life, but he found himself once again feeling inferior to someone he could not exceed either morally or academically. Eventually sleep claimed him, sweeping him up on billowing wings of darkness into an alien sky filled with swirling stars.
* * *
“Hey, Ponygirl. Mind if I come up?” There was a fairly narrow strip of steep roof to one side of her bedroom balcony which Sweetie would not have attempted climbing as a pony. Humans were more monkey than she had originally thought, and to see Sparrow scoot up the strip of roof tiles with a pizza box in one hand only reinforced that idea. Sweetie Belle would not have climbed up on the roof if she was not so… Well, she was not about to admit it out loud, but only a few days into her year of school, before she had even seen the school, she was homesick. So she had told Miss Selkirk she wanted to watch the stars for an hour or so before bedtime, and without any adult supervision at all, scooted right on up to the top of the roof much the same as she had spent many nights with her friends on top of their clubhouse in the apple orchard.
Sparrow settled down next to her and plopped the cooling pizza box down on her knees. “I kept a couple pieces of the cheese pizza and some breadsticks for you, but the supreme is all mine.” After one cheese-dribbling bite, the tall girl gave out a low groan of pleasure. “American food rocks.”
“I’m not really hungry. I just wanted to watch the stars,” admitted Sweetie in a tiny little lie. She took a slice out of the Pizza Hut box anyway and bit in, letting the familiar squish of molten cheese and tomato sauce carry her home for a moment. Rarity never ate more than a single slice whenever they picked up pizza at home, but the icebox was always empty of leftovers the next morning. Personally, Sweetie thought the primary reason for ordering out when their parents left on a trip was so she could not use the kitchen, which was totally unfair.
“You got different stars at home?” managed Sparrow through the muffling application of nearly a complete slice of pizza stuffed into her mouth at once.
“I think so,” offered Sweetie with a glance upward. “Nothing looks really familiar, although Princess Luna sometimes moves them around when she gets bored, and it takes a few weeks for everypony to get used to their new positions. She normally keeps the constellations the same, or ponies complain.”
After a lick to catch a departing drip of cheese, Sparrow snorted. “Moves the stars around? They’re like bazillions of miles away. But I suppose,” she added in a more thoughtful tone, “you wouldn’t lie to me, so the rules must be different in another dimension full of talking horses.”
“She said they’re ponies, not horses.” Wycliffe poked his nose around the corner of the balcony and regarded the two girls sitting on the peak of the roof. He seemed more interested in the pizza box than company, and walked straight up the roof much like he did it every day. “Any pineapple in that box?” he asked once he had gotten settled down on the other side of Sparrow.
“Dunham got that one. Supreme?” The two humans ate while Sweetie gnawed at the crust of her slice, although Sparrow was the first to speak up when the pizza was all gone. “Homesick?”
“Yeah,” sighed Sweetie at the same moment that Wycliffe said, “Yes.”
“Wait a sec.” Without a place to put the empty pizza box on the rooftop, Sparrow wound up sticking it under one arm so she could gesture at Wycliffe. “I can understand why Sweetie’s moping since she’s from a whole ‘nother galaxy, but you live like… over there somewhere.”
“That does not prevent me from missing my home. I am… not used to people. My father was not well liked, and he did not bring me into towns for most purposes, so it was mostly just him and my brother at our House. Oh, and our house elves, Peas and Carrots.” He looked morosely at the last chunk of pizza crust before eating it. “I’ve never had pizza before,” he managed while chewing. “It’s good.”
“You have elves as servants?” Sparrow gave the short frown she used while thinking. “I’ve heard of Wood Elves and High Elves from Dungeons and Dragons, but not that kind. I brought my book in case somebody at school is running a game,” she added. “My paladin is only eighth level, but he’s got a magic sword and all kinds of gear.”
“Is that anything like Ogres and Oubliettes?” asked Sweetie. “Where you make hero characters on paper and go vanquish monsters and eat snacks? Because I never played the game with Spike and his friends, even though it sounded cool.”
Wycliffe watched them both with a puzzled expression, then swallowed the last of his pizza. “I can see we all have much to learn before school even starts. I have to admit—” he waved one hand at the roof of the house, and the sight of the London neighborhood spread out in the moonlit darkness all around them “—this is far better than the way I expected to begin my term at Hogwarts. I thought everybody there would be the same as each other, and so much different from me.”
“The best part about meeting new ponies… that is people, is making new friends,” chirped Sweetie. “Do you think your brother is making friends in Equestria too?”
“I doubt it.” Wycliffe looked up in the sky where a moving light among the stars showed there was some sort of flying craft or creature sharing the night with them. “Neither of us really ever made friends. When we get to Hogwarts, I’ll probably be sorted into a different House and hardly ever see you again, so we won’t get a chance to be friends there either.”
“I have a magic diary to keep in touch with everypony at home,” said Sweetie Belle. “And Sparrow has her telephone to talk to her parents and friends. You’ll be in the same school, so there’s no reason we can’t see you every day.”
“That’s… true,” he admitted. “And somebody needs to keep you properly informed on certain traditions of the wizarding world. Such as we don’t normally eat on rooftops.”
Sweetie shared a giggle with Sparrow, and after a long time and much encouragement, Wycliffe joined in. They stayed on the roof and talked until quite late, watching the stars and exchanging stories until Miss Selkirk called them inside. Tomorrow was going to be spent getting all of their new stuff together and packed into trunks, then the next day would be a train ride to the new school. It was going to be so exciting, but today had been exciting and long too. She was starting to yawn at odd places in their conversation anyway, and really had not wanted to fall off the roof.
After a brief but quiet shower since all the rest of the boarders were in bed, she let Miss Selkirk dress her in the plush pajamas they had purchased earlier, clip out the tiny scratchy tags, and tuck her into the bottom bunk while Sparrow bounced up into the top one. The two of them chatted briefly while Miss Selkirk got Wycliffe situated in the bedroom next door, then obediently were quiet again when she peeked back in on them.
It seemed unfair how quickly sleep claimed Sweetie, like an opponent held back for far too long before pouncing. But perhaps it was merely pent-up anticipation, because the sooner she went to sleep, the sooner they could get ready for their adventure in the new school.
Soon, her dreams were filled with new friends and exciting places to explore with them.
* * *
Headmistress McGonagall could not sleep. She wanted to, but despite the clatter of the train rails and the lateness of the hour, her responsibilities kept her going just as much as the Hogwarts Express was on its trip back to London. That, and she was faced with a stack of paperwork on the dining car table that did not seem to get smaller no matter how much she read and signed. On a normal year, Minerva had always wondered how Headmaster Dumbledore managed to keep up with all of the work involved. Even with the loan of her assistant from the Ministry of Magic tonight, the job was a crushing weight that no sane witch or wizard would accept. Thankfully, sanity had never been a serious qualification for Hogwarts staff, or their assistants.
“Mister Weasley,” she said abruptly, putting her quill aside and leafing through the stack of untouched papers, “that position as Gryffindor Head of House. Have there been any more applications? Anybody who might possibly be both competent and sober most of the time?” She added under her breath, “For two Knuts, I’d hire Gilderoy again.”
Percy Weasley had promptly grabbed three sheets of paper out of his own stack, but put them back once she qualified her question. He shuffled through some additional applications, sorting them by whatever process he had determined, which spoke volumes.
“Stop that,” she cautioned. “When vacancies occur among the staff at Hogwarts, the Headmaster or Headmistress has the authority to appoint an interim Associate Head of House, pending a permanent replacement. We’ve been through enough applications tonight to know there’s not a witch or wizard qualified to sit on this anthill who is insane enough to have applied. Therefore, as Headmistress of Hogwarts, I’m making an executive decision. Until we get a qualified permanent applicant for Gryffindor Head of House, you’re it.”
“What?” Papers scattered as Percy rather redundantly pointed to himself. “Me? I don’t have the qualifications, or—”
“You’ve been Prefect, then Head Boy in your House,” started McGonagall quite firmly. “Considering you had to cope with your brothers, those honors alone would qualify you to ride herd over this bunch. You’ve been assistant to the Minister of Magic under Fudge and Scrimgeour since then and came out of that fiasco alive, so that counts in your favor also. Besides, this will be the smallest class at Hogwarts that we’ve seen since Voldemort first rose to power years ago. There’s just one thing I have to know.”
Minerva locked eyes with the eager young man, who looked so much like a puppy who had just seen a ball that she wanted to roll up her copy of the Daily Prophet and thwack him across the nose.
“I want to hear how you will deal with rulebreakers within your House.”
“Sternly and immediately,” said Percy without a pause. “The rules are there for a reason, after all. Um… That is how you want the rules to be enforced, is it not?” he added, when Minerva pushed her glasses up and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“That is how the governors wish the rules to be interpreted, yes. And how the Ministry would enforce them. Percival, I don’t see how in the world the Sorting Hat ever put you into my House,” she added in a huff. “I don’t think you’ve broken a single rule during your entire term at school. Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would have been absolutely overjoyed to have you. What did the hat say to you during Sorting?”
“Um…” Percy squirmed and looked out the train window at the darkness rushing past. “Perhaps it mentioned them in passing. My older brothers had been Sorted into Gryffindor, so that’s what I really expected.” After a period of silence, he added, “And I have broken some of the rules. I just didn’t get caught.”
“Ah, so that’s it. A bit of Salazar Slytherin in you.” Minerva leaned back in her chair and took her reading glasses off. “You do realize, Mister Weasley, what a hatstall is?”
Having red hair only made Percy’s blush harder for him to conceal. “I know I took quite some time for the Sorting Hat to—”
“It took four and a half minutes for the hat to place me in Gryffindor,” continued Minerva. “Longer than your four, and yet not as long as Professor Flitwick, who refuses to admit just how long it took for him to be placed in Ravenclaw. I believe the record is somewhere on the order of a half-hour,” she added before Percy could ask the obvious question. “All of the most promising students take more time, but four minutes is about the peak for the last few decades. You see, more powerful wizards do not fall neatly into one of four pigeonholes, much as the rules at Hogwarts do not align themselves perfectly with desired behavior.”
“So,” started Percy, who was obviously confused, “you want me to administer the House more like… Dumbledore?”
“Heavens forbid!” Minerva gave her new Associate Head of House a most discouraging glare. “I want you to administer it as yourself, in a way that Godrick Gryffindor would approve. I don’t want you to encourage the youthful malcontentents, or crush them beneath your heel. Use your judgement to discourage the more energetic children from destroying the castle so soon after we have just put it all back together.”
She reached across the table abruptly to take his hand in hers, a little shocked at how soft and warm his fingers felt compared to her old, cold self. “Your brother gave his life in the fight against Voldemort. I expect if you look in your own heart, you will find the vigor and enthusiasm with which he faced death. Use that, cherish that joy, in the same way that generations of Heads of Houses look at the students and see their own faces reflected back at them. Do him proud, and you cannot go wrong. Even if you only hold the position for a few months to a year, you will find the experience will change you for the better, and you will forever cherish those moments.”
After blinking back a tear, Percy gave her hand a gentle squeeze back. “Thank you, Professor… that is Headmistress. I can’t promise perfection, but I will try.” He managed a wan smile. “After all, if I muck things up too much, I would not put it past Fred to come back as a ghost and haunt me out of the castle.”
“That’s the spirit.” Suppressing a grim chuckle at the unexpected pun, Minerva continued, “If you survive until the end of term, I expect you to have a bare minimum of three things you dare not tell me or the Ministry. Lord only knows I have a list I’m taking to my grave, several of which involve your brothers.”
“I’m… afraid I don’t understand, Headmistress.”
“That’s quite all right, my dear boy. You will,” said Minerva, patting Percy on the cheek. “Besides, I’ve been at Hogwarts for decades, and I understand it a little less each year. Now, we’ll be arriving in London shortly, and I have a few last-minute student meetings scheduled for tomorrow. I expect you need to inform Minister Shacklebolt of your new placing, and not tonight. Kingsley is very protective of his evenings. First thing in the morning should do nicely.”
Minerva pulled several folders out of the stack of papers and pushed the remainder over to Percy’s side of the table. “That gives you this evening to go over the remaining paperwork while I get some rest at the Leaky Cauldron. After all, Dumbledore taught me the first benefit of being a headmistress is passing the work down. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow at Hogwarts, Professor Weasley.”
The confounded look of awe and terror on Percy’s face was a warm pleasure that Minerva treasured while walking to the front of the train, taking the last few minutes of their trip to make one last check.
The maintenance workers and engineers would spend tomorrow getting the creaky old engine back into perfect shape for its limited run, although the muggles among the workers would have to be quietly Obliviated afterward. Still, she had to wonder just how effective such memory charms were when so many of the same muggles lined up to volunteer for the duty every year. Perhaps the old girl was attractive to her human attendees, like some grand dame with a collection of young suitors in love with her graceful lines and stately demeanor despite being over a century and a half old. It almost made Minerva feel a twinge of envy as she brushed one hand along the brass railings and sculpted scrollwork. To sleep for months at a time, then awaken to the tread of youthful feet and hear their delighted chatter.
She gently patted the side of the car and listened to the creaks and clatter of the ancient machine, so much like the Hogwarts castle, although for a moment, she had to wonder if the train dreamed during its slumber.
And a short time later as she settled into her own bed in the Leaky Cauldron, the idea remained and filled her own dreams with odd wonder. Of expanding mechanical wings that brought trains soaring into the sky and the joy of an ancient castle as it felt the dancing feet of celebrating youth, while above all, the luminous moon shone down with a silver light.
It was the best sleep she had in years.
Nanowrimo isn’t going too bad.
So nice of Mr. Shacklebolt to help them with their luggage, any object you cannot get your arms around is always a bugger to maneuver.
That exchange between McGonagall and Percy was all I needed to push this story into my favourites. Very nice.
(Not that I'm surprised that a Georg story is once again in my favourites.)
I'm a bit reserved towards giving stories likes, but McGonnagal's part, particularly the narrative around her thoughts on the Express, earned you one. That was a particularly good vignette. All of the established characters have really good internal conflicts so far.
Sweetie gets to meet Sir Christopher Lee?
At least, thats the voice I heard speaking those lines.
As for the Mechanics. Yer cant Obliviate the Bury Boys. They got Steam And Iron in their Souls. Just like the World.
Luna is helping McGonnagal?
It was the last sleep she would have til the trio come.
There was talk of permanently assigning a goblin to Ronald Weasley just so they knew what wand he was using on any given day.
I'm sure we'll never hear from Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious ever again.
Ah, Theodore. He's in for quite a few long, dark nights of the soul. Luna may find this one especially interesting.
Ah. He is the spawn of evil.
Just wait until she finds out how magic and electronics don't get along. If she thought the lack of plugs was bad...
He is a Weasley. He's just a stealth model.
Brilliant insight from McGonagall on how to herd lions. And a lovely closer. Theodore may not be the only human Luna finds intriguing. Looking forward to more.
I thought that they called it the boot? Unless Sparrow had told her what it was called.
Also I am surprised Hagrid didn't apply to be the new Head of Gryffindor. He would far to lax but I bet all the students would love him.
You write your characters so well
Percy ' s going to be the first Weasley son to have Gray Hair. And a Drinking Problem
9943299
Comes from the same useage. If you think back to cars in the 1920's, the back was where you'd tie your trunk/boot box to.
Same reason there's the hood/bonnet divergence. Similarly garment names for the same part of a car, just one's more butch than the other.
9943299
oh absolutely, the slytherins seem to be the only ones who don't. the rest adore him. lol
Mysterious goblin confections or ordinary black liquorice? (spelled with a q because British)
Maybe goblins invented the stuff in the first place.
Like in Chamber of Secrets, when Polyjuiced Ron & Harry were sneaking around as Crabbe & Goyle in the dungeons. The first person they bumped into was Penelope Clearwater, who didn't look too thrilled. Then they ran into Percy. Obviously, Percy & Penelope, who were starting to date then, had been down in a dungeon classroom together, getting a little frisky over Christmas. Ginny admitted at the end of the book that she knew the two had been making out in classrooms all over the school.
9943299
Sadly he's not a wizard (remember he was expelled and had his wand broken), which probably disqualifies him for most of the jobs at the school.
9943299 9943444 9943417 And the Board of Governors would have a twelve-fold heart attack, because most of them went to Hogwarts, and they may have adored him as a student, but putting him in charge... No.
9943440 He was a Prefect at that point too, if I recall. One of the students responsible for making the other students obey the rules
9943426 Would not surprise me a bit.
9943338 All of the best Heads of House do.
9943313 Thanks! Tell me more. (snerk)
9943278 Stealth Weasleys. The mind boggles. (FYI: I got the 'wands as identifiers' from the 'sneaking back into Gringots to get the Horcrux cup' scenes)
9943262 The Headmistress sleeps the sleep of the just, because she has minions to take the flack. Just wait until she wakes up, saunters to her window, looks out into the courtyard which has somehow become filled with pudding... then goes back to bed for another hour. Princess Celestia will have nothing on her.
9943233 9943211 I try.
9943206 Amazing how sheer coincidence puts both the Minister of Magic and Hagrid in the vicinity of their new exchange student.
9943488
Percy, Six weeks later: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl4plPGRG8o&app=desktop
Luna is really getting around, isn't she?
The Notts remain as fascinating as ever. And goblins giving out liquorice "candies"? That's not anise thing to do!
Eeeeeee! They're going to get to Hogwarts soon! I hope I don't explode first from the anticipation.
Italian actually, although there's historical references from Persia and Greece and something like pizza has been eaten since the stone age.
9943299
Yeah, I was thinking the same thing about the boot/trunk bit. Like you said though, maybe it was Sparrow that informed Sweetie of that compartments name.
9943904
No no no. This is Pizza Hut pizza, that's definitely an American creation. Pizza may have been born in Italy but it was the Americans who perfected it.
Now about the story itself, particularly the bits about job placements... Will McGonnagal maintain her position as the Transfiguration Professor as well as being Headmistress? Who will be the deputy Headmistress/Headmaster? The Defense Professor? There are just so many little things like this that are fun to ponder and daydream about.
I also quite loved the rooftop moment between the children, it was quite the touching bonding moment. It bodes well for their continued friendship as the school year progresses. Heh, and Sparrow being incredulous regarding Luna controlling the stars? Yeah, I getcha girl. Is that even canon? Because for the life of me I can't ever remember a moment where Luna messed with the stars, only the moon. I mean, I can kinda see how Celestia and Luna move their respective heavenly bodies as long as we think in terms of a geocentric orbit, but their entire galaxy?
9944815
Press X to doubt.
P.S. Fun fact: according to extended canon, Malfoy family got scot-free a second time, for different reason, though. With Lucius and Narcissa keeping their pureblood views.
Professor Weasley this fits and Percy deserves it.
9944947 One hand in back promptly shot up. "Professor of what?" asked Ginny.
"It's not important," said Percy. "Now, everybody together, Seventh Years in front, First Years in back."
"Have you told mum?" asked Ginny over the shuffling of students.
"No, I haven't told our mother," said Percy in a tone just short of scolding. "Now, get over there--"
"You haven't told your mother?" asked Sweetie. "Because my mother always wants to know what I've been up to when our parents take trips. Sometimes Rarity writes her up to five pages, and sends her something called a 'Liability waiver' in the envelope."
"It's been rather busy lately," said Percy, who did not recognize Sweetie Belle's gasp of inspiration until it was too late.
"I know!" she called out, bouncing on her toes. "We can write the letter for you! She's going to be so happy that you're our new Househead! And everypony can sign the letter, and we can send her a picture of all of us waving to her, and maybe it will even get into the newspaper!"
"I've... got my brother's camera," said Dennis, which was about the only words he had spoken since the Sorting ceremony.
"Now, hold on--" started Percy, but he was too late.
"Come on!" declared Sparrow, waving her hand. "This is going to be great!"
The stampede surged forward into the Gryffindor common room, leaving their leader, the Head of House, standing there on the stairwell with one finger raised and his mouth open. Wycliffe walked up to Percy, patted him gently on the arm in sympathy, then followed the rest of the herd through the swinging portrait and into the chaos it concealed.
"I didn't even think about telling mum," murmured Percy. "She's going to go sparse."
Wish I could like this story a second time for that ending.
A brilliant read so far I am quite enjoying myself
9951812 Pfft, Matilda was mediocre at best.
I was twisting the fate of nations by age 4.
He just 'happened to be passing by' eh? And he's a Tall Man, you say?
i-mockery.com/halloween/greatest/pics/phantasm2.jpg
I do hope there's a new chapter coming. This story has my attention.
9954017
Is that The Doctor?
9960870 Working on it at all hours of the night.
i finally caught up. you have my attention!
9960870 Nah, he's probably a demonic being from another dimension planning on putting everyone's brain in tiny metal killing spheres and using their shrunken corpses as zombie slaves.
……
DON'T LOOK AT ME!! I DIDN'T WRITE THE MOVIES!!!
9961607
???
9962644 Alondro is too awesome for the unprepared mind to understand. It is best for us mere mortals to marvel at his abilities and enjoy rather than attempt to discern the exact wisdom of his words. Ask your doctor is Alondro is right for you. Some side effects may occur.
9962693 Side effects of Alondro may include, but are not limited to: headache, nausea, excessive flatulence, god-moding, inducement of REEEEEEE.exe syndrome in those around you, hallucinations, an obsessive fondness for lions and oolong tea (often at the same time... don't ask), and death, followed immediately by resurrection into a new and more terrible form.
9963015
9962693
Sorry. Still don't get it.
9963972 Drug commercial disclaimers.
There, now I explained the joke and it's RUINED FOREVER!!
YOU DID THIS!! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!! *the world begins to crumble and explode* DAMN YOU!! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!!
KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!
*Alondro's only child is sent to a new Earth in a little spherical ship that kinda looks like a Pokeball. Once there, he grows to realize he has powers beyond the likes of mortal men... his name is, Son Goku.*
9964862
Ill just smile and nod like I understand.
9965427 That is for the best.
9961607
9962644
Alondro was providing a reasonably accurate summation of the Phantasm movies. The nameless villain is referred to as 'The Tall Man'.
Calling it now. That's a record Sweetie Belle intends to break.
This sentence irks me fierce. "she'd had" sounds more natural and grammatical.
We of dutch descent have something like that. We call them droppies. They're basically salty licorice, and yes, they're black. I love them. Most people can't stand them.
Dang it, now I'm craving droppies.
A couple others have mentioned it, but it bothers me too.
It could be called a clever play on American English, but in British English she opened the boot so they could put their trunks inside. I can accept the use of "trunk" generally speaking, as no character was speaking at the time and I assume most of the readers are American, but that can't be used to point out wordplay that doesn't exist in the context.
10548011
if Most, but not me ..
10548011
Yes, that's why Wycliffe didn't understand it when Sparrow said it.