• Published 15th Jul 2020
  • 1,910 Views, 59 Comments

A Hogwarts Overtale - Tums Festival



After having a falling out with Princess Celestia, Sunset Shimmer volunteers to become the first Equestrian Elf to attend a human magic school. However, she quickly finds that she isn't the only unusual individual Hogwarts bound.

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In Plain Sight

"Welcome, my lovely little dollops! Welcome!" Professor Who announced cheerfully, ushering in her Transfiguration class. "Who is ready for a year of magical fun!?"

As Sunset took a seat by Hermione and Luna, she couldn't help but raise her eyebrows. This Federation representative certainly wasn't without her eccentricities.

"Our first lesson begins in three, two, one… ding ding ding!" she grinned. "Uh oh. I'm afraid anyone not at their seats is now considered late. And unfortunately, as punishment, you're going to be today's… practice dummies. What would you say to us transfiguring you into cannonballs and shooting you into the lake?"

The entire class, including the non-late comers, gazed at her in horror.

"Pffft, oh wow," Professor Who said, breaking out into giggles. "You should have seen the looks on your faces. How about five points to… hmmm, eh, five points to all houses to make up for it."

The entire class seemed to be in a state of confusion, as if unsure whether to cheer or tell her that such a thing was meaningless.

In the meantime, Sunset and Hermione glanced at each other, baffled. "Is she insane?" Hermione whispered.

"I'm… not sure yet," Sunset gulped.

"Perhaps she is," Luna beamed, giggling along with their apparent mad woman for a teacher. "Insanely fun!"

Hermione deadpanned. "Right then."

“Alright, alright, that’s enough jocular jesting for now,” Professor Who smiled. “For those who weren’t paying attention at the Sorting Hat Ceremony, I’m Professor Missy Who, Deputy Minister of the Federation Board of Education, Receiver of the Federation Citation of Honor of 1923, yadda yadda, this probably means nothing to you, right?”

The class sat in stunned silence.

“Okididokity,” she smiled. “Now that formalities are out of the way, let’s talk about Transfiguration. As many of you already know, it is without a doubt one of the hardest magical subjects to master and to perform. Just one transfiguration spell can drain you of an entire day’s worth of mana. It’s why the Federation doesn’t tend to use it in industrial applications, and instead usually uses Amestrian Alchemy. However, transfiguration does have its advantages over that. Can anyone give me an example?”

This time, to the surprise of Hermione and Sunset, Luna’s hand shot up almost immediately. For the first time since Sunset had met her, she seemed to be eager to impress.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Amestrian Alchemy does not involve the transformation of energy into matter,” she explained. “Mass must be conserved in the process or transformed into energy. Transfiguration, however, allows magical energies to be converted into matter when need-be. Thus, it allows more flexibility.”

Hermione and Sunset gazed at her, wide-eyed. While Luna had never come off as dumb, she hadn’t shown that she might be the smartest person out of all of them until now.

‘Maybe she just didn’t want to show off?’

“You, my dear, are my new favorite,” Professor Who beamed. “Five points from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. That’s how that works, right?”

Hermione’s jaw dropped slightly.

The first half of the lesson went the same way, with Professor Who seemingly going out of her way to be as quirky as possible. She certainly knew her stuff, however, much more than someone of her demeanor let on. She was similar to Luna in that regard, which seemed to be why the two were bonding so quickly.

“Now then, time for something even more fun,” Missy beamed, midway through. “Wands are the primary channeling device used here, yes? Splendid. Take those out.”

Tepidly, Sunset just that. She had barely used her wand yet, as channelling magic through it instead of her hands felt as unnatural as breathing through one’s ears.

Still, the intricacies of wands fascinated her. Each was fairly unique, given they were made of a combination of woods and cores, with there being hundreds of types of each. Her's was made of vine, which she was told primarily suited those who sought higher purposes in life. And its core was a unicorn hair, and not just any unicorn hair, but one that belonged to her bonded unicorn, Solar Ray, back home.

‘I wonder how she’s doing?’ she said to herself, a hint of nostalgia flowing through her. ’Galloping through the shadow of Canterlot right now, I bet.’

“You’ll do fine,” Hermione said, noticing Sunset’s look of consternation. “Just follow the instructions exactly.”

Sunset nodded, giving her an appreciative smile.

“Now then,” Missy said, wielding an umbrella of all things. Apparently, she noticed the students giving her questioning looks, as she quickly followed with: “Yes, it’s a wandbrella. Don’t worry about that.”

“First Hagrid, now her,” Hermione muttered quietly.

“Hm?” Luna pondered.

“Nevermind.”

“I don’t want to drain your mana reserves so early into the day,” Missy said. “So we’ll be doing something relatively simple: the Silver Shield Spell.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at that. Sunset could see an odd mix of skepticism and delight in them. “That is not a simple spell,” she whispered.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Sunset said. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

Apparently, the class agreed with Hermione, as there were numerous murmurs of discontent.

“Come now,” Professor Who laughed. “Many of you here are veterans of the Second Wizarding War. Surviving against an army of Death Eaters led by Voldemort himself should qualify you for anything.”

Though those words didn’t mean much to Sunset, they apparently did to Hermione and, to a slight extent, Luna as well. As soon as Missy had spoken them, their faces sank into a state of depression.

Sunset had the distinct impression neither of them wanted to be reminded of the war whatsoever.

Professor Who didn’t seem to notice or care. For she immediately continued with: “The Federation expects great things from all of its magical youth, and given your rather extreme life experience with it, I personally believe this school will be the vanguard in leading it into a new age of mystic discovery. Have faith in yourselves, because we have faith in you.

She then cleared her throat. “Now then, you know the drill by now. I’ll do the spell several times. Pay close attention to my hand movements and the incantation.” With that, she twirled her wand and, in a loud tone, said: “Adhebete Clypeus!

With a crackle of magic, a beautiful, shimmering, silver shield appeared before her wand. Semi-triangular in shape, it was complete with a strange symbol engraved in its center: a circle with what looked like a figure-eight within. As promised, Missy repeated the spell several times. Then, the class began to follow suit.

Unsurprisingly, nobody managed to cast it the first time, forcing Missy to repeat the process, disappointment laced on her.

What was surprising was who managed to cast it first: not Hermione, as expected, but one of the Ravenclaws Sunset didn’t know the name of. Luna was the second to cast it successfully, and Sunset managed to conjure it a little after (the symbol on it a blazing sun, the same as the marking on her shoulder).

It wasn’t until nearly half the class had managed to do it that Hermione finally had it down, a look of extreme frustration and distraction mixed with her earlier sorrow on her.

‘Something’s wrong,’ Sunset thought. ‘I saw her cast a difficult spell on the train ride, and everyone says she’s the most talented person here.’

By the end of the lesson, everyone looked exhausted. Despite Missy’s promise not to drain their mana too much, Sunset felt like her pool was almost completely gone, given how hungry, thirsty, and tired she suddenly felt. The professor did allow them to rest near the end of class, however, which gave Sunset a small amount of time to recuperate. Still, she wanted to curse to herself when Missy called for her as everyone else was leaving.

“Just a tick, Ms. Shimmer,” Missy asked. “A bit for your thoughts?”

“Er, sure,” Sunset said, before glancing at Luna and Hermione. “See you guys later?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said, sorrow still in her tone. “See you.”

And so, Sunset was left alone with the unusual professor. The latter quickly smiled, ushering her over to her desk. As Sunset approached, she heard her softly singing:

“Equestria, Equestria, pride of Celestia,
Three tribes, three races, bound in the light.”

Sunset blinked, unsure how to respond. ‘Why is she singing our anthem?’

“You’re probably wondering why I’m singing your anthem,” Missy beamed perkily.

‘My mind feels violated.’

“Truth is, I rather like it,” she said. “It’s catchy, unusually upbeat and fascinating. Wouldn't you agree?"

“Why is it so fascinating, professor?” Sunset asked, trying to hide the annoyance in her tone.

Missy’s eyes pierced her. “Because of what it implies: you don’t often find absolute monarchies with such genuinely devoted subjects. Most have to rule through fear, through scapegoating and diversion - the usual despot tactics - but all evidence suggests all three of Equestria’s races and their equine companions are treated equally. And all are devoted to their leader not out of fear, but love.” She then smiled invitingly. “Oh, and before I forget: please, call me Missy.”

“Oh, um, sure.” Sunset glanced away from her. Her irritation at not being able to leave for lunch was now replaced with an annoyance at what the professor was saying. It seemed she needed a lesson in what was really going on in Equestria. “But… I don’t think that’s entirely true. Most Equestrians do love Celestia, but not all of them want to be ruled by her.”

Missy raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I mean that some would rather try… a different form of government,” Sunset explained.

“I see,” Missy nodded. Then, seemingly changing the subject, she continued with: “Tell me, Sunset, what do you think of the Federation so far?”

Sunset furrowed her brow, trying to read Missy’s expressions. ‘Why?’

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled. “I ask purely out of curiosity.”

Sunset took a deep breath. “Well, I find it… exhilarating.” She looked directly into Missy’s eyes, a sudden passion flaring in her soul. “Everyone here seems to be truly free.”

“Truly free?”

“That’s right,” Sunset nodded. “Your people don’t just have the freedom to choose how they want to live or what career they want, but the freedom to choose everything, even their leadership.” Her hand balled into a fist. “Celestia doesn’t think it’s a big deal. That Equestrians are free to do what they want in life and that's enough. But how can anyone say they have their destiny in their own hands without democracy?”

Missy cocked her head slightly, smiling quizzically. “Democracy has its own drawbacks, you know. Some would say it makes a nation weak - that decisions take too long to be made, and that leaders are often chosen for their charisma instead of their competence.”

“The Federation certainly doesn’t seem weak,” Sunset pointed out. “You're doing so awesome nations are joining you left and right. You've proven everything that limits democracy can be solved through proper education and infrastructure.”

“You’ve given this quite a bit of thought,” Missy said.

“I’ve had to,” Sunset sighed. “I’ve tried every argument I can to make Celestia listen, and she’s turned me away at every turn.”

Missy tapped her chin. “Perhaps if enough Equestrians demand it…”

“Some are,” Sunset interrupted. “The Equestrian Democracy Movement has been gaining speed. But they’re still just too few.”

“Well, that’s truly a shame,” Missy said, frowning. “Keep this under your hat, but little birdies tell me that the Federation High Council has been seriously considering giving them an invite.”

Sunset’s eyes widened. “They… they what?”

“An invitation to join the Federation, silly,” Missy chuckled. “However, the fact that Equestria is still a monarchy has given them… mmm, cold feet, you could say. Tell me, if they were persuaded otherwise, do you think Celestia would accept?”

Sunset paused, thinking for a moment. While she quite admired the Federation, she wasn’t sure whether or not she should be giving away this crucial piece of information. Nonetheless, the opportunity was so inviting…

“Well, she keeps saying an ‘age of danger’ is upon us,” Sunset finally said. “I don’t know if she would be open to straight up joining, but closer ties? Maybe even an alliance? Tartarus, yes.”

“Intriguing,” Missy said, a twinkle in her eye. “Mind if I pass that along?”

“No, no not at all,” Sunset said, smiling slightly. For the first time since she had arrived, talking about her homeland wasn’t making her sad or angry, but excited.

“Good,” Missy said. “Well, before I hold you up for too long, I’ll let you go. Do try not to get yourself blown up in charms, okay?”

“Thanks,” Sunset said, forcing a chuckle. “But uh, could you let me know if anything happens with this?”

“You've made this party possible,” Missy grinned. “I’m not about to burn your invite.”

--

"Hey Sunset!" Frisk said, joining her at the Hufflepuff table an hour later for lunch and setting Flowey down next to her.

"Hey Frisk," Sunset said, gazing up from her salad. "How was Care For Magical Creatures?"

"It sucked," Flowey interjected. "That big oaf Hagrid needs to learn how to control his pets."

Frisk winced slightly. "One of Hagrid's Murtlaps might have sort of almost tried to make Flowey into a snack."

"I came this close to strangling the stupid thing," Flowey growled. "But Frisk and her bleeding heart stopped me."

Sunset blinked. 'Again, how does that work?'

"You're lucky I did," Frisk said. "Everyone says Hagrid really loves his pets. If you had hurt one, who knows what he might have done?"

"I'd take a bite outa his SOUL if he tried something," Flowey grinned wickedly. "Mess around and find out, sucka."

"You can do that sort of thing?" Sunset asked.

"I can do lotsa stuff," Flowey smirked. "Care for a demonstration, Knife Ears?"

"Yeah, no," Sunset said. "Keep your SOUL magic to yourself, Murtlap Bait."

"Hah!" Flowey grinned. "Not bad for a start. A few more cycles of practice and maybe you'd come up with a clever nickname."

"Wait, did mom talk about that?" Frisk said, seemingly eager to change the subject. "SOUL magic?"

Sunset nodded. "A little. Your mom's a good teacher, by the way. She seems to really love what she does."

"She's had a few years of experience," Frisk said with pride. "Back at the Monster Kingdom, that is. She was so good she pretty much built the entire school system there from the ground up. Anyways, did you have Transfiguration yet? Cus that’s my next class."

Sunset nodded.

"What was Professor Who like?"

"Really odd," Sunset admitted. "And her class was taxing. I don’t think she’s going to be the most popular teacher around. However, she’s also... really intelligent if you can look past that."

“Oh, I bet she is,” Flowey said, grinning wickedly. “She’d have to be.”

“I really don’t like the way you said that,” Sunset pointed out.

Frisk blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s something freaky about her,” Flowey said. “And her smarts are letting her cover it up.”

“How could you know this?” Sunset said somewhat defensively. “You haven’t even met her.”

“Because I read her SOUL, idiot,” Flowey sighed. “At the stupid sorting thing. I’m a Monster, remember? Something was up with it, particularly her Level of Violence. Like it was altered in some way, probably by her. Just like your pal Smiley Trashbag, Frisk, there’s more to her than you’d think. I’m just surprised you didn’t see that for yourself.”

“Flowey, I don’t just go around reading everyone’s SOULs,” Frisk sighed. “It’s kind of rude.”

“And you’re making a lot of assumptions here,” Sunset said, folding her arms.

“Whatever you wanna think, Knife Ears,” Flowey winked. “I’m just worried about…”

He paused, suddenly looking very displeased with himself. He seemed to be trying to avoid looking at Frisk.

“Worried about what?” Frisk asked, a hint of a knowing smile on her face. “Go on.”

“Ugh, piss off,” Flowey snapped, immediately tunnelling into his pot’s soil.

Sunset gazed at the pot, baffled, before looking back at Frisk. “Think he’s telling the truth?”

“I don’t know,” Firsk pondered. “He’s usually not serious about… well, anything. Buuuut maybe, just in case, we should talk to Hermione and Luna about it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Sunset said, striking a thinking pose. ‘If anyone could help, it’d be those two, right?’

--

Sunset's next class, Charms went by somewhat slowly, as neither Hermione or Luna were attending it. She didn't exactly learn too many new things, either, save for a fairly intricate anti-warding spell - and one which required a wand. She was certain that if she hadn't already practiced with hers in Transfiguration, she would have humiliated herself. Fortunately, she didn't seem to do any worse, or better for that matter, than anyone else in the class.

'Just gotta keep treating my wand like an extension of my hand.'

Next was Herbology, a much more fascinating subject for Sunset. While magic may have had certain universal traits, nature was quite adamant in giving Equestrian and Terran flora innumerous unique characteristics, especially in relation to size. Plants on the Terran Continent in general were larger, and in certain areas, trees could grow to the size of skyscrapers (and produce a sap that could make a wicked growth potion).

Perhaps the constant weather control by the Averials and their pegasi in her homeland had limited floral size for whatever reason; everywhere but in the mysterious Everfree Forest, that is. Or maybe it was just a coincidence. Either way, maybe if Equestria and the Federation did grow closer, they could work together to figure it out.

Unlike Charms, at least one of her friends did join her for Herbology, Luna. Unfortunately, Professor Sprout didn’t give them much time to talk until the end class. Not only was she not able to voice her and Frisk’s concerns, but it made the last portion of the class go by much more slowly when the second subject came up; a subject that was truly the epitome of boredom.

At least for Sunset.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so fascinated by a Herbology lesson before,” Luna said as she walked with her away from the class’s greenhouse. “I never knew there were so many magical properties to a simple head of lettuce. Then again, it’s not the only vegetable that’s more than meets the eyes, is it?”

Sunset raised her eyebrows. “Is it?”

“Of course,” she said dreamily. “Daddy says that you can brew an elixir of immortality from turnips. We could all be living forever this very moment if not for Section 31.”

“Who?” Sunset blinked.

“The Federation’s secret, secret police,” Luna replied. “You see, the elixir has a very complicated formula, and they’ve since hidden the only copy away in one of their secret vaults.”

Sunset couldn’t help but chuckle. “No offense, Luna, but the Federation doesn’t seem the type to have a secret police.”

“A secret, secret police,” Luna corrected.

“Maybe we can look into that later,” Sunset said, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “But I do need to talk with you and Hermione about something involving them.”

“Section 31?”

“No, the Federation,” Sunset said. “Specifically about Professor Who.”

Luna’s eyes widened in delight. “Professor Who?”

“You really like her, don’t you?” Sunset said, suddenly feeling regretful about the upcoming conversation.

“I don’t see why anyone wouldn’t,” Luna said matter of factly. “I wish she hadn't brought up the war, and she does have very high expectations, but her teaching style is clever. Abstract in a way that draws in your attention and holds it.”

Sunset blinked. “That’s actually a really good point. You think her… quirkiness is part of a teaching tactic?”

“It’s possible,“ Luna said. “But you said you needed to talk to me and Hermione about her?”

“Er, yes.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know where she is,” Luna said. “We were supposed to have Arithmancy together, but she missed the class. Professor Vector was very concerned.”

Sunset furrowed her brow. She hadn’t known Hermione for more than two days, but she certainly seemed like the last type to miss any classes. “Should… we be concerned? She did seem kind of shaken up after Transfiguration.”

“That is true,” Luna said ponderously. “It is possible that she may have…” She trailed off.

“May have what?” Sunset asked. “Does it have something to do with the war?”

“It is a… solemn topic.”

“Come on, Luna,” Sunset said. “I know it’s not a fun topic, but you know her better than I do. Is this normal for her?”

Luna paused, glancing at Sunset with a look she couldn’t place. “Before the Second Wizarding War, before I was even born, there was a much larger war: The Great War. The 'War to End All Wars'".

Sunset furrowed her brow, not sure why Luna had seemingly changed the topic. Nonetheless, she decided to humor her: "It was the one fought between the human nations on this continent. It's what led to the Federation."

"Yes," Luna said hazily. "My father had a dear friend - a muggle - who fought in it. He never talked about it, though. He was too busy being his kind self - always trying his best to cheer up everyone around him." She smiled warmly. “He was a good man.”

She then took a deep, shuddering breath. "However, deep down… deep down I wondered if he ever really left the battlefield. Whether he was still stuck in those trenches as spells and bombs blasted around him. It makes me wonder if sometimes, horrible moments in our past can become so burned into our memories that they can become our presents. Even I sometimes… sometimes..."

She closed her eyes, growing silent.

"Luna," Sunset stopped her, feeling quite unnerved. "Just how deep was Hermione into that war?"

"Let's just see if she's at dinner," she spoke, not looking at Sunset. "And go from there."

Sunset nodded slowly, and the two strode towards the Great Hall in silence. She was still contemplating the meaning of Luna's words when they arrived.

Hermione was nowhere to be seen.