Chapter 70: Touring the Truth
The room containing the Mirror was rather odd, even by the standards of rooms you could stumble upon in Hogwarts. Exactly half of the room, the half reflected by the Mirror, was a perfect match to the room they'd come from in Hogwarts, an unadorned open space with a solid stone floor and tall pillars, lit by a soft white light tinged with gold, coming from no visible source. The other half of the room was a waiting room, not unlike the few in the Ministry meant for people like the Malfoys and foreign ministers, instead of people like the Parkinsons, outfitted with a soft carpet and tasteful paintings, though no furniture. It was as if someone took the two rooms, cut each in half with a powerful yet precise Diffindo, then stuck them together with a sticking charm.
A few seconds earlier, Headmistress McGonagall paced back and forth in front of the Mirror, her eyes locked to its surface, while a relaxed Slytherin first-year doodled. As soon as Draco and everybody else arrived, McGonagall began asking questions immediately, and Autumn began stowing her sketchbook. A few seconds after that Professor McGonagall was asking many more questions.
Professor Monroe sighed. "We will discuss Dumbledore later. Rushing the matter will change nothing about his predicament, and might perhaps make it worse. Not to mention we already have a schedule for today."
"Schedule, shmedule!" said a voice. "I say wing it!"
Draco felt Father's firm grip on his shoulder and he heard a gasp from McGonagall and Harry's muggle father, but he didn't turn to see their reactions. His eyes were locked on the new arrival, a creature that he only knew about thanks to the occasional monitor/statue/picture in Circus, though it was a different thing to see it in person.
"Of course you would," said the Defense Professor in a suffered tone. "There goes the plan for a nice, warm welcome to this world."
"Hey! Sunbutt's not the only one who can do 'nice and warm'! Watch!" With a snap of claw-fingers, the chaotic creature was seeping into a steaming jacuzzi. "AAAaaaaahhh. There. Nice and warm. Now, have you told 'em yet?"
"No."
"You brought a straight stallion?"
"Straight woman."
"Eeeee," Discord squee-ed in eager delight. "Dibs on being the banana pony-dragon-griffon-taur."
"Aren't you always?"
"I pride myself on resisting that temptation. 'Always' isn't chaotic, it's predictable."
Headmistress McGonagall cleared her throat. "Professor," she said with a tinge of apprehension. "Who is this?"
"Discord," the Defense Professor introduced. "Former god of chaos."
"Former?!" said Discord indignantly. "I'll show you former!" He snapped his claw.
The Defense Professor was suddenly dressed in a ballerina tutu, clown makeup (sad clown, not happy), and a wide-brimmed hat that was so tall it touched the ceiling. He was also balancing on a strange, one-wheeled device. The Defense Professor drew his wand, was enshrouded in a rainbow sheen, and the chaotic ensemble disappeared.
"Spoilsport," Discord huffed.
"As you can see," said the Defense Professor, facing the Headmistress. "He is the spirit animal of the Weasley Twins, and he is not supposed to be here. Does that suffice for an explanation?"
"I-" said Professor McGonagall, but a knock on the door interrupted her. Then her eyes narrowed at the creature. "Yes, I suppose it will have to do."
"We're ready," said the Defense Professor.
The door opened to admit another being that Draco only knew about due to his time in Circus.
"G-R-E-E-T-I-N-G-S H-U-M-A-N-S," said Discord after a snap of his claw, appearing beside the new arrival and speaking in a strange voice, as if a muggle radio came alive and started speaking on its own. He also looked like a radio, or some kind of muggle device: blocky, bulky, and covered in buttons and dials. (Draco had not yet seen the movie 'Terminator'. This is because Harry had not yet seen the movie 'Terminator'. Petunia put her foot down hard earlier in his childhood. Not that Discord looked much like a terminator. Popular pony sci-fi is visually tamer than that.) "Y-O-U H-A-V-E B-E-E-N T-A-K-E-N T-O O-U-R L-E-A-D-E-R. P-R-E-P-A-R-E T-O B-E E-A-T-E-N."
"Discord," rebuked the white pony in a warning tone. "Ignore him, please," she said to their group. "We are herbivores."
"I'm not," said Discord, no longer looking like a muggle device. He tied a bib depicting a cartoon human around his neck while leering at Draco and drooling. "Looks like I've hit the juicy jackpot. I've always wanted to try monkey-thing."
Father put himself directly in between Draco and Discord.
"You should try deep-fried Defense Professor," suggested Harry's voice. "I've heard it's the meat of kings."
"The meat of nobility, to be sure," said the Defense Professor. "Allow me to give you a hand." He grabbed his left hand in his right, and-
Hermione gasped, McGonagall said "Professor!" in a shocked and appalled voice, Harry's father gave a shout of alarm, and Celestia just seemed to sigh. Draco barely managed to stop himself from looking away or growing queasy as a sweeping motion from the man's right thumb separated his left hand from its wrist, leaving a bleeding stump behind.
Then the Defense Professor calmly observed his own wrist as a new hand wove itself into existence, from bone to muscle to skin and fingernails. "Yes, Headmistress?" he asked, flexing it. He tossed his old hand, still bleeding, to Discord. "Bon Appétit."
"Ooh, you shouldn't have!" Discord snapped his claw, and then the hand began disappearing bite by bite. As in, still on the ground, the hand looked like pieces were being bitten off by invisible mouths in chunks, accompanied by chomping sounds, even though Discord was far from it. When it was gone, Discord began patting his stomach in contentment, as if he had eaten the hand. Then he became green and began dry heaving. He made a disgusted face at the Defense Professor. "Ptah! Meat of kings indeed," he scoffed sarcastically, then harrumphed. "Celestia! Next time invite delicious aliens." He snapped his fingers and disappeared.
Into the resulting silence, the regal pony took center stage. "I am sorry," said Princess Celestia, as if speaking to the children, but addressing the adults. The pony looked ashamed and apologetic. "Discord does as he wishes, with little regard to authority. Or common courtesy. Or sense."
"I feel I should apologize as well," said Headmistress McGonagall. "Our Defense Professor is hardly better in that regard."
"I was simply demonstrating how to deal with Discord," said the man. "And chaos in general. Just go with the flow. He'll leave eventually."
"Or he'll escalate the joke," the pony warned. "I was half expecting him to ask if your entire species was rotten, or if it was just you."
"Did he really eat the hand?" Draco couldn't help but ask.
"No," said Celestia with certainty. "He is many things, but he is no cannibal."
"Cannibal?" asked Draco. "But… would it be cannibalism? We're not… whatever he was."
"You may not technically be Equinoids, but the Equestrian definition of cannibalism is one sapient creature eating another, and it is an unforgivable taboo."
"Even if each party is consenting?" asked Harry. "And no permanent harm is done?"
"Good question, Mr. Potter," said the Defense Professor. "I believe it is forgivable in exactly two general circumstances… no, make it three, with that being one of them. But even still, it is not recommended, for concerns of mental and physical health if nothing else."
"And this is the male royalty," sighed Celestia. "You two, I swear…"
"Please don't lump all noble wizards with them," said Draco, the heir to the most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy, who now wished to distinguish his family name from the noble houses of Monroe and Potter in the eyes of this new foreign power.
"Quite," said his father, who probably wished to do the same. "We are not all like House Potter."
"Oh, I'm aware," said Celestia, meeting Draco's gaze. "Not a millionth of beings consider morality as carefully or thoroughly as these two. I know this quite well. I suppose I should not complain when the fruits of their journey manifest merely in distasteful conversation, given the state of Earth and humanity in general. I only wish the ears of my subjects might be spared the worst of their idle gossip."
"That attitude," said the Defense Professor, "is precisely why I'm curious to see what you'll think of something we've been working on." Her eyes turned to him. "Prince Excelsior has prepared a presentation about the three tribes period compared to modern earth. To help lower the expectations and standards that ponies might have of humanity's morality, but also to remind the average pony that Equinoids were hardly better once upon a time. I also prepared a reverse presentation for visiting humans. Two versions each, one for adults, and one for children. Luna did the voice over for all four."
"And you'd like me to preview them?" asked Celestia.
"Naturally," said the Defense Professor. "It's part of the schedule that you do, even. Alongside the rest of us."
The pony made a gesture that Draco was pretty sure meant 'go on', after which a parchment screen was set up in less than a minute. A wand wave dimmed the room's lights, and before anyone could say anything, the screen lit up, and a voice began speaking.
"Long ago, in the land of Equestria, there were three prominent tribes: The unicorns, the earth ponies, the pegasi." Images flashed across the screen, showing ethnically homogenous groups of ponies. "A terrible winter and a great threat brought these tribes together as one. Two alicorn sisters-" here it showed a white pony with pink hair and a dark pony with blue "-who bore the traits of all three tribes, who had been gifted with bodies that did not age, stepped forward to KEEP them together, despite their many differences." An image of an earth pony in coveralls and a straw hat was juxtaposed against a wealthy upper-class unicorn and a completely unclothed pegasus watching from above. "Despite their many discriminations." An image of young ponies having lunch, grouped together by race. "Despite their disagreements." Images of ponies shouting at each other, though there was no sound. "They persevered and prevailed." An image of a busy town of all three groups... and many other species too. "This is the story told to all ponies when they are young, and while it is true, it is also pinkwashed, for the full story is far, far uglier." An image of a clearly-screaming couple, with broken bottles scattered throughout the house. An image of a small, torn dress on a nightstand. An image of a bruised and bloody colt, not even crying, just staring vacantly as he waited in a line for a healer to tend to him. "What is not told, what is not commonly understood except by the bravest of pony historians, is the depths our depravity reached. Not the depravity of outside invaders, though they were depraved." A drawing of ponies impaled on spears, as if on display. "Not even the depravity of adults against other adults, which tended to be the most civilized form of interaction, sadly. The deepest depravity of all is when a parent abuses their foal, and back then, that was not only common, it was the norm." An image of a furious mare, hoof raised to strike out through the viewing window. "Back then, not just parents but adults in general – schoolteachers, aunts and uncles, grandparents, foalsitters, leaders, even complete strangers – would abuse foals every minute of every day, often behind closed doors, in manners that could not be proven except through testimony. It was not directly discussed in public. Or when it was, it was given polite terms like 'spanking' or 'discipline' or 'punishment', though the worst abuses were not even hinted. Those who did not abuse foals, who treated foals with love, with empathy, with the respect they would treat their fellow adults- those good ponies would never stand the company of adults who did otherwise. So the extent of most foal abuse was hidden. Minimized. Camouflaged." The image of the furious mare came back, and was quickly replaced with another image of the same mare, smiling and speaking peacefully with other adults. "Princess Luna, Alicorn of Night, with her special talent of dream-walking, pinpointed and pointed out abused foals to the guard. In her Night Court, she listened to many, many petitions of adult ponies who in their youth suffered unspeakable atrocities at the hooves of those around them. She was not the first to truly recognize the underlying patterns, the red flags and warning signs that pointed to abuse. But she was the first who could DO something about it across space and time. With insight bestowed and heeded, her sister – Princess Celestia, Alicorn of Day – set to eliminate these terrible wrongs from all of Equestria. And though it took a thousand years, and the help of many generations of scholars…" an image of a sunrise "…she has almost entirely succeeded."
Then there was a picture of a city, a school day about to start, a market, the interior of Circus, all of which contained images of more than just ponies.
"Equestria today is a land of friendship and harmony, where ponies, griffons, changelings, dragons, and other sapient beings interact with kindness and consideration. The greatest wrongs and arguments often stem from nothing worse than miscommunication and misunderstanding, not malice or callousness." The images shifted from primarily pony populations to other species. "After warfare failed them over the centuries, other countries followed in Equestria's footsteps, hoping to reach the prosperity set forth by Equestria's example. Griffons, our oldest and bitterest rivals, now walk our lands freely, without prejudice, as we walk theirs. Griffonia has slowly become happy and prosperous. The shy Changelings have come out of hiding and live as friends, not parasites. Even dragons, the most reclusive, traditional, and prideful species, have become less hostile to outsiders." The image of a pony city zoomed out until the city was no longer visible, until trees and landmarks were no longer visible, until it was an image of a still planet surrounded by stars. "The chaos that can be found here is happy, keeping things fresh and lively, and keeping us strong through conflict. The few great evils that remain on the planet Equus are imprisoned, or live far outside the reaches of civilization. And those evils are becoming fewer and fewer. You will see the evidence of this as you walk our streets, speak with our ponies, and witness our personalities." The image of the planet was put parallel to another planet, with landmasses in similar places, recognizable to anyone who has seen a globe. "The longer you visit, the more you will come to realize that the biggest difference between Earth and Equus lies not in the shape of our people, or their magic, or their abilities, or their intellect. The greatest difference is the extent to which we have taken our happiness. Our foals. Our families. Our friendships. Honesty. Truth. Loyalty to loved ones. Careful thought and consideration. Free Will. Liberty. Property rights. These are a few of our most sacred values. We invite those who share these values with open arms. To all visitors, know that our biggest rule is that foals must never be mistreated – never shouted at, never insulted, never hurt, never abused. Between adults, we have four rules: Do not murder. Do not rape. Do not assault. Do not steal. More simply, do not violate another's property. It is easy to remember, and I hope it will be equally easy to follow. In the event that it is not, transgressions within our borders will be mediated by us. Major transgressions will go straight to the crown, minor transgressions will be handled locally. For aesthetic matters, please use common sense. Considerations to cultural differences will be made, but we do have regulations against public obscenity, for example. A foal might see it, after all. That said, please enjoy yourselves. Welcome to Equestria."
When the screen faded and the lights returned, there was a thudding sound, and Draco turned to see Autumn stomping her feet on the ground. The Defense Professor leaned down and whispered something, and her face grew red, and she stopped. "Sorry," she squeaked, then started clapping her hands in an odd fashion, her fingers splayed and her hands matching each other symmetrically, rather than the proper method of the fingers on one hand meeting the palm of the other.
"No, no," said the same voice that had just been speaking, except it was now behind them. Eyes turned and beheld a new pony standing next to the first, a midnight-black pony with a flowing mane like stars in the night sky. "Thank you for the applause. One is better than none. The showcase of artistic endeavors meant to be widely publicized can be so stressful, you know. Any critiques worth mentioning?"
"Was it the one meant for foals, or adults?" asked the pristine white pony with a flowing mane like a rainbow.
"Adults, of course," said the Defense Professor.
"Then my only critique," said the white pony, "is that you did not show the other one."
"Tis not quite done yet," admitted the midnight-black pony. "And the mental dissociation required for Occlumency does qualify our guests as adults in some regards, sister, as you know. I would not have allowed it to be shown otherwise."
"Yes," sighed the white pony. "I know."
"If I may voice my opinion," said the voice of Headmistress McGonagall. "I do not agree."
The two ponies and the Defense Professor turned to face her.
"She was speaking legally," said the Defense Professor. "Just as underage magic laws are different. In Equestria, anyone who learns Occlumency legally qualifies as mentally capable of handling adult information. Once upon a time, it was the phrase 'when you're older'. Now it's 'when you're an Occlumens', at least in some households. Those beneath the age of majority who actually manage to rise to that challenge deserve at least that much courtesy as independent thinkers. Treating children well means treating them according to their varying maturities, personalities, and preferences. Occlumency is a complex area of law and custom, given how new it is here, but my point is that this is not a matter of our opinions as visitors, just as you would not have magic used in the hallways of Hogwarts, regardless of an outsider's opinion. But given that you do believe children should not see mature subjects, headmistress, I think you'll get along well with Equestrians on average. Autumn knows the Occlumency custom already, I doubt Mr. Potter or Mr. Malfoy disagree now that they know, and they may correct me if they do… Ms. Granger?" he asked. "It was my decision to show this. If you feel it was too traumatizing, you need only say it, and I will be held responsible."
But Hermione shook her head. "Being eaten to death by a troll was far more traumatizing," she said. "And so was the Dementor. And that false memory. And the conversations I don't remember. And almost being sentenced to Azkaban, and needing to swear myself to slavery to avoid it."
The white pony stared with wide eyes along with a few others.
Professor McGonagall's hand was on Hermione's shoulder.
"Ah…" said the Defense Professor, seeming to hesitate. "Yes, that would be…"
Draco shifted uncomfortably. Over this past week of questioning Harry, he'd come to realize just how lightly he'd come out of Voldemort's machinations. The difference between what he went through and what Hermione went through was the difference between being one of Voldemort's pawns and being the queen of Voldemort's enemy.
"Would you-"
"It's fine," said Hermione in a clipped tone. "Well, I mean, it's not. I mean the movie was fine. I'd rather not talk about the rest. Yet."
"Understood," said the Defense Professor.
"Not understood," said the white pony. "I was under the impression that the society of Magical Britain, for all its flaws, was not quite that bad."
"I recognize that tone…" said Father, now standing at Draco's side. "Yes, now I remember. Your Patronus spoke before the Wizengamot. You said you would invite Madam Longbottom to tea if you could."
"And I will when I can," the white pony said in tones of confirmation. "What of it?"
Father seemed to consider his words for a moment. "We have our laws, just as you have yours."
The black pony bristled. "The law is no excuse to send a child to be eaten by Dementors, Lucius Malfoy."
"The evidence at the time was quite damning," said Father coldly. "As the Defense Professor just explained, you ponies agree that some children are more mature than others, and our laws agree that exceptions may be made to try them as adults if they display sufficient mental capabilities."
The pony's gaze was locked with Father's. "Like a dark mirror," she said. "The correct principle applied in the exact incorrect fashion. We do not try children as adults. Ever. We treat them as adults sometimes, when they have earned it, when they are ready for it. It is done for their sake, not ours. It is certainly never done for vindictiveness. When crime is involved, we blame responsible adults, not foals, regardless of mental development."
"Then you should do the same here," Father said smoothly. "The whole fiasco with Ms. Granger was orchestrated by the will and wand of Voldemort, using my son as a pawn so that I would be struck down after acting in anger to protect him. Do not be so hasty in your condemnations."
The dark pony still had eyes only for Father. "I know that as well," she said. "Believe me, I have laid condemnation where it is truly due. I have been doing that all my many centuries of life, the past thirty-five years especially. And through my experience, I have learned that the difficulty lies not in the act of condemning, but in the skill required to precisely isolate that which can be condemned constructively, especially when the target is in the mirror. Yet more difficulty lies in the art of getting the guilty party to take responsibility for their past actions. And most difficult of all: getting the wrongdoer to understand the wrong they have done. Not as mere words," she said in a cautioning tone. "Not just up here," she tapped her forehead with a hoof. "But in here." She tapped her chest. "For now, that is all I shall say on the matter. We do have a schedule to keep."
As they were guided out of the room and through the halls, occasionally passing a pony in a maid's outfit, or wearing armor, Father led Draco to the back of the procession, where the Defense Professor now skulked.
"Who is she?" Father asked.
The Dark Lord seemed to consider the question. "If Princess Celestia is the face of this nation," he said, "Princess Luna is the soul."
"What would that make the other alicorns?" asked the girl walking beside him.
"Hm," said the man, tapping his cheek. "Twilight would be the magic, Cadence the heart, Excelsior the horn, or perhaps the hoof. Horizon the life, Airess the wings, Master Fool is the willpower. And alicorns who have not yet ascended… let's call them the future."
Father cleared his throat. "Do you have any… recommendations-" (orders) "-for future interaction with her?"
"Harm her and you will die a slow, painful death."
The girl giggled, slapping the man's robes.
"…The slow, painful death of old age, for you will be denied services of the stone if it's bad enough," said the Defense Professor. "The same as if you deliberately harm anybody outside necessary self defense or consented combat. Remember that the contract of the Philosopher's Hospital applies to all sapient beings. That said, she can handle herself in conversation. Between adults, words do not constitute harm, with the exception of credible threats. Speak with her however you please. Though if you wish to keep up with your son's progress, I would recommend heeding her advice. Perhaps petition her court. She's expecting an influx of human petitioners in the future."
"She's going to allow that?" asked Draco.
"She's looking forward to it," said the Defense Professor. "A thousand years ago her Night Court was a constant stream of stressful and complex issues. And while she did not like it at the time, she says that, in retrospect, it was a much more meaningful and lively existence. Today she is almost begging for a new deep evil to address. Her Court has been one easy case after the next – helpful, but not deeply satisfying, in the same way that walking a mile is not as satisfying to an athlete as running a marathon. She has had her decades-long reprieve of relative peace, in which she handled exactly one difficult case, and is ready for battle once more. So yes, she would allow you to petition, Lucius, though I would recommend you watch a few past petitions first, to understand how they typically go." The man withdrew three vials of silver liquid from his robes and offered them to father.
"…Under what pretext would I petition?" asked Father, accepting the vials.
"Counseling on marriage and parenting," said the man. "You'd not be petitioning her in her capacity as a head of state, you'd be petitioning for an hour or two of her time. Though she does better at prevention than cure. If a bunch of little problems seem to be getting worse over time, and what you're trying doesn't seem to be working as a fix, and you're open to advice, that is the best moment to petition, else you make the mistake of letting a losing game continue far longer than it should, and having to reconcile sunk costs afterwards."
When they got to the next room, the Defense Professor explained that, like Mary's room in Diagon Alley, this place is proof against all outside scrying, and the button he just pressed would serve as additional security and redundancy.
"This is necessary," said the man, "because we are about to share something that should not yet leave this room. Various efforts have been made to ensure that it won't escape by word of mouth either… except in one case. Professor Verres-Evans," he said, addressing Harry's father.
"Yes?" asked the man, somewhat apprehensively.
"In order for you to see what comes next." He pointed at a parchment on the table in the back of the room. "Please read that and sign it. It is a magically binding contract whose enforcement mechanism is paralysis on attempted breach. You will see that many here have already signed it, save Princess Luna, who is bound more firmly, and your son, who qualifies as one of the two people who are having you sign that contract. I am the other. You shall also have to consent to what protections we can provide, for muggles are far more vulnerable than wizards."
It took around fifteen minutes for questions to be asked, answers to be provided, constraints to be comprehended, and the contract to be signed.
"With that out of the way," said the man, smiling widely. "To start, you should understand that this is an admission to criminality. We confess. Mr. Potter and I are unrepentant lawbreakers with absolutely no intention of turning ourselves in to the Ministry of Magic, nor coming quietly if we are caught."
"Must you put it that way?" asked Celestia.
"I guess you're right, Princess Celestia," said Harry solemnly. "We deserve two years in Azkaban, two years of Dementor exposure, each, for our terrible crime."
"Only two years?" asked Draco skeptically.
"Exactly two years," said Harry, no longer solemn. "Think of it like a puzzle. Professor McGonagall, you're in the best position to solve it. Off the top of your head, what laws do you know about that have a mandatory punishment of exactly two years?"
"The law of animagus registration," she said without pause, followed by a visible pause.
"Indeed," said the Defense Professor. "A wizard who commits the terrible crime of keeping their magical abilities secret must serve a mandatory sentence of two years in Azkaban, surrounded by Dementors. Or they did, until a few months ago. Now it's just the two years of imprisonment. Unless they were wealthy enough to pay the fine, and politically important enough for the Wizengamot to choose the fine."
"A completely fair and just law," said Harry. "It's not like wizards have a wise and ancient tradition of keeping rare and difficult magics a secret or anything. And it's not like the auror's wouldn't check anyway, if the point was preventing animagi from escaping Azkaban. Wouldn't someone think of those poor, innocent bureaucrats who'd have less paperwork to file? Right, Professor McGonagall?"
The Headmistress of Hogwarts looked from Harry to Hermione to Autumn to Draco. "I am certain the answer to that question should be obvious," she said. "It is important for wizards, young and old, to avoid breaking the law if they can."
The Defense Professor was chuckling. "You know, Headmistress, is it not a Gryffindor's duty to bravely denounce unjust laws? Doing what is right does not mean blind obedience to the law. And I know you are not blindly obedient."
"Do not presume to know what I believe, Professor," said McGonagall.
"I am not presuming," said the man with a smile. "I was firmly aware of your beliefs last year. I had to be. If you really want to know what you truly believe to be right and wrong in terms of the law, ask yourself this question, of every law you know: Would I have reported Professor Quirrell over this? If the answer is yes, then you believe the law is right. If not, then you believe the law is wrong, or trivial, or not strictly necessary for everybody to follow all the time. You would not have turned me in to be eaten by Dementors if you had discovered I was an unregistered animagus last year, which I was. You would have turned me in if you learned I'd egregiously harmed a student. We both know this. Although it is unfair to be putting you on the spot. Let's ask everyone. By show of hands and wings, who believes two years of Dementor exposure is a fair punishment for not registering their forms?"
Lucius Malfoy was the only one who raised his hand, while Professor McGonagall vocally refrained.
The Defense Professor's smile had not left. "You would condemn those who blatantly break laws to Azkaban, Lord Malfoy?" he asked, giving a significant look to Draco. "You cannot imagine being the responsible party in keeping magical abilities private, in a way that violates Ministry law?"
"I am sure I do not know what you are talking about," said the man smoothly, though he did lower his hand, and he did say, "but I suppose you may have a point. I admit, I have an... occasionally irrational instinct to respect existing legal precedent and tradition. The animagus law is recent enough not to be noble or ancient, I suppose."
"As is the ban on all children getting their wands prior to their acceptance letters at Hogwarts, I presume?" the Defense Professor asked, still smiling.
"Where are you taking this, Lord Monroe?" asked Father, ignoring the question. "Are you suggesting legal overhaul?"
"Yes," said the Defense Professor. "I am. But that can come later. For now, I am simply establishing that nobody in this room agrees with the animagus law before Mr. Potter and I explain what we got up to in our missing years. Others can explain at their own leisure, if they wish. If it's not obvious by now, we are animagi, and we will not register for reasons that will become apparent shortly. Would anybody who does not already know the answer like to guess at our forms?"
"…I would guess snake," said Lucius. "At least for you, Professor."
"Either you are cheating with prior knowledge, or you are good at guessing, but no, Lucius, my snake animagus form was lost. It's something else now."
"Oh, Merlin," Draco groaned, the answer coming to him in a flash of inspiration. He had been wondering how the pony angle mixed with Harry's attack on Azkaban ever since the pony thing turned out to be real. "You're both pony animagi, aren't you?"
There was a pause.
"I'll be honest," said Professor Monroe. "I was not expecting you to get that close to the answer, Mr. Malfoy. You are almost correct, and I would award twenty-five Monroe points and five points to Slytherin if we were in class. Ten if you were in Ravenclaw."
Draco stood as proudly as his noble training taught him to do, which was about as proudly as any twelve-year-old could.
"Almost correct?" asked Father curiously.
"Indeed. Mr. Potter, would you prefer to explain?"
Harry Potter stepped forward, wearing a wide grin. "Alright, here's the fun part. When we were doing the animagus procedure, we were in a bit of a predicament. We'd been forced into different, seemingly permanent forms by a very powerful magical device that might have a mind of its own, and we didn't know if we would change back when we were no longer under that device's influence. When we did know we could permanently change ourselves into whatever we pleased, whether the device liked it or not, we didn't want to give up our new forms because they came with some pretty useful perks and powerups, and we didn't know if permanently changing ourselves would give those up. So we decided to keep the forms a bit longer while we tested if it was possible to become human animagi, because we did still want to be humans again. That's how we proved it is possible to become a humanmagus. So, technically speaking, we're not human animagi with pony forms, we're pony animagi with human forms, although it's hard to verify because the animagus reversal spell just doesn't work on us in either form. But when we were going through the animagus process, we were transfiguring ourselves into humans, and the potion used human blood-" Professor McGonagall gasped "-which had luckily been extracted and preserved from our own human bodies ahead of time," Harry added, "so our new forms are a genetic match to our old ones. That's why I think it's probably the case we're human animagi, not pony animagi."
"And all of that," said the Defense Professor, "is just one of the reasons we can't exactly register our forms at the ministry. There are a few more."
"So…" said Professor Michael Verres-Evans, Harry's father. "If I'm following this correctly, Harry, you're saying you can turn into a pony?"
"That's the short of it, Dad. Professor Monroe is keeping his form quiet for extremely hilarious reasons that everyone will laugh at, and the main reason I haven't gone public is to avoid death by crushing hugs from Ravenclaw girls. And you can't make me go public Headmistress McGonagall, because I'm not a brave Gryffindor, I'm a shy Ravenclaw, so there."
"What's wrong with crushing hugs?" asked Autumn.
"At a guess," said Luna, "I suspect they would be extremely one-sided, non-consensual, and possibly quite painful."
"Or at the very least," said Harry's father, "persistently begged-for, time-consuming, and repetitive."
"And immediately followed by requests for ponyback rides," added the Defense Professor.
"Exactly," said Harry. "Though come to think of it, at least I wouldn't have to worry about my mane getting pulled or styled. But I'd still start the day with white fur and end up pink. Oh! And that's why everyone would find Professor Monroe's form hilarious, by the way. Because he's pink. Hot pink. With a lime green mane."
"Pink?" asked Harry's father.
"Why would that be hilarious?" asked Autumn. "Sounds like normal colours to me."
"And me," said Draco. "Especially during Yuletide. Dumbledore's favorite outfit was pink. There's a rumor it's the colour of power and madness."
"Uh…" said Harry.
"He was just trying to soften the blow of the hilarity," said Professor Monroe. "As you can see-" he vanished from sight in a fashion that was not the standard Animagus blur, and then in a flash of green flame, a bright pink pony with a green mane stood in his place. "The real reason," said a female voice, "is that my form is a mare, not a stallion."
For some reason, Harry looked shocked at the reveal.
"I cannot tell you how disturbing I find that," said Luna.
"Ditto," said Autumn.
Draco knew his face was twitching, and he barely stopped from bursting into laughter.
"Amusing," said Father flatly.
Harry's father looked a bit lost.
McGonagall's eyes were wide. "A different sex between animagus forms? How is that possible?"
"I'm afraid that puzzle's answer is beyond your ability to imagine as yet," said the female voice. "So I shall reveal the answer." A green flash enveloped the pony, leaving behind a pony that looked like a bug. "It's not possible," said a male voice. "The creature you see before you is called a Changeling, and it is capable of taking on any pony voice and appearance. Think of it like a metamorphpony, operating on illusion instead of transfiguration." Another green flash and he took on the appearance of a purple pony wearing lipstick and lace stockings. A dry female voice rasped, "I can be anything you want me to be, baby."
"I have not seen that one before," remarked Luna, raising an eyebrow.
Another green flash and he became a plain pony, red, no wings, no horn. "I recently visited a few muggle areas," he said. "Next time, I will not make the mistake of wearing clothes that suggest potential wealth. And I will not walk down that particular street again, at that time of night, in search of a private Apparation location."
"Couldn't you have just used muggle wards?" asked Harry.
"That would have been admitting inadequacy and defeat. Cheating is technique, but only a fool cheats when it would be wiser to win honestly. Taking shortcuts can be necessary, and it is an essential life skill to notice the clever bypasses that exist at every turn, in every walk of life. But exploiting them habitually, at the first sign of difficulty, can pollute the progress of practice, training, and genuine development of skill. If I had cheated at something that trivial, using an unclever method known to and practiced by almost all wizards, I would have lost an opportunity to improvise and improve. And I would have missed out on an interesting experience." A flash of green, and a mirror image of the black pony with a mane of the midnight sky appeared. "Earth is a long ways away from retiring its oldest profession, I fear." Another flash, and a dark pony with bat wings, blue slitted eyes, a horn, and fangs appeared.
"Earth's oldest profession?" asked Autumn. "What's that? Hunting?"
"Ah," said Professor McGonagall. "I think it is time we move on to more important subjects."
"That only made her more curious, Headmistress," said the thestral-ish pony dryly. "It's prostitution, Autumn."
"If I may interrupt," said Father. "Was that 'changeling' creature your base form?"
"No," said the pony. "If you'd like a hint at my real form, Mr. Potter already gave its inverse. You are extremely unlikely to find the truth funny, Lucius. And you will likely accuse me of finding it hilarious. Which I do, to some extent."
Father visibly hesitated. "Is your true form the one you are wearing right now?"
The pony grinned, then pulled out a cloak from seemingly nowhere and draped it over his back, where it rested flat, as if wings were not beneath it. He pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on, which hid his fangs and horn and cat-like eyes. "Prince Excelsior, at your service," he said without the standard genuflect, or even inclining his head. "Or rather, at Magical Britain's service. A thousand hours of service, to be precise. Is that not an amusing punishment for my crimes, Lucius?"
Draco suddenly got the unspoken implication.
Headmistress McGonagall took a sharp intake of breath.
"Grossly wrong and excessive is what it is," said Autumn.
Draco suddenly wondered if she knew about Lord Voldemort. Hadn't she signed the 'secrets' contract? Or did she simply not believe in punishment for criminals at all, even Lord Voldemort? But the Sorting Hat couldn't possibly have put her in Slytherin if she was that Hufflepuff.
"A thousand hours for offense is stupid," she added.
...Or maybe she was just taking the original punishment-fitting-the-crime question at face value and not looking for hidden meanings.
"To be fair," said the Defense Professor, "they also suffered direct Dementor exposure, public shame and humiliation, and incredibly unpleasant enchanted tomatoes to the face."
"Professor!" the headmistress hissed. "Your final lesson last year was of your own free will?!"
He shrugged unapologetically. "I never said it wasn't. It should come as no surprise that I arranged the entire scenario from start to finish. The students learned a valuable lesson that day. As did... some members of the Wizengamot."
"It would also mean..." Father observed slowly, "that you destroyed the Dementors of the world... because you were vulnerable to them?"
"An interesting question, Lucius. One might even say brave."
Father gave a humourless smile. "I thought carefully before asking it. The situation is under control, regardless of vulnerabilities, is it not?"
"Indeed. In point of fact, Lucius, your suspicion is exactly correct. I originally agreed to a binding pledge to defeat the world's Dementors with that exact motive thirty-five years ago. But things change. I haven't been vulnerable to Dementors for some years now, and I followed through on that pledge, binding or no, due to newly acquired motivations. And I will point out that it was Mr. Potter who did most of the destruction."
"I knew it!" said Draco triumphantly.
"Though 'destruction' isn't the right word," said the Defense Professor, giving Draco an amused grin. "'Healing' would say it better. I simply provided the logistical support."
"'Simply', he says," said Harry. "Because traveling to all corners of the world in a single night is 'simple'."
"My thoughts precisely," said the midnight-mane pony with a smile.
"Now hold on just a minute," said Harry's father. "You're saying... Harry..."
Harry smiled widely at his father. "Now I am become Event Horizon, destroyer of Death."
"Event Horizon?" said the rainbow-maned pony.
"Muggle astronomy jargon," said Harry. "The theoretical point where the gravitational pull of a black hole becomes inescapable."
"And you call yourself this because...?" asked the midnight-maned pony.
"Because in our language, it's a modification from plain old 'horizon'. But mostly because there's no going back now. Wanna see, Dad?"
"Ah... Son, I hope you realize that paraphrasing Oppenheimer doesn't exactly inspire the greatest confidence..."
Harry's smile turned into a grin. "I think it's appropriate, now that I can make happiness nukes."
"...Happiness nukes..." his father repeated. "If that's what it sounds like, involuntary mass ecstasy trips don't inspire the greatest confidence either."
There was a brief pause.
"You know," said Harry thoughtfully. "Now that you've put it like that, that's a good point, Dad. I mean, it's not a bioweapon, or a drug or anything like that, but maybe it's not the best idea to go around using it without prior consent. Not that I've done it since June, and it was certainly justified then, because Dementors, but still."
"Mm... I wouldn't call it a happiness bomb," said the midnight pony. "More like a happiness amplifier. At least from the perspective of its recipients."
"Honestly, Princess Luna, I don't think that's helping. Don't worry Dad, it's not an indoctrination beam either. Happiness is a prerequisite on my end, but at most it's a side-benefit on the receiving end. I don't think it even has a significant uplifting effect on somebody unless they've had recent Dementor exposure. Right, Professor?"
"Correct," said the Defense Professor. "There are those who do not have any existing happiness to be amplified. For that side-effect to reliably occur does indeed require recent Dementor exposure, and for that same Dementor to be destroyed soon after."
"Right," said Harry. "Because it returns what Dementors have recently taken. But anyway, thanks for the words of caution, Dad. Even if it's not for the reasons you're thinking, I guess showing off would have too many unintended side-effects to be safe."
The white pony cleared her throat. "Not as many as you'd think in Equestria, where it is already known and taught, and at high noon, when it is already bright outside." Then, with her horn glowing golden, "Attention all denizens of Equestria. If, in the next few minutes, something strange and magical happens, please do not be alarmed. If you are flying, or are otherwise in motion, please find a safe place to land and wait for the next ten minutes. Accidents that happen may be reimbursed by the crown, but please try to avoid them." Her horn stopped glowing. "Excelsior, if you would?"
The Defense Professor nodded, then closed his eyes. After about a minute, during which Harry and the white pony had a hushed conversation, his eyes opened. "Thorax has given the go-ahead. It's now or never."
"No," said the white pony. "It is now and ever more. Prince Event Horizon," she said while staring straight at Harry. "I know you would have preferred to do things entirely your own way, and you may still do so if you wish, but as it was your own suggestion... will you now announce yourself?"
All eyes were on Harry, and all those who said "Prince?" were ignored by those who didn't.
"...Clever," said Harry after a brief pause. "This way I don't have to show my face. Or even my pony form... possibly. And you're right, I did suggest it. Alright, you've convinced me."
Those who saw it, who felt it, who were encompassed by it, they knew the world would not be the same. A few laughed. A few cried. Most were silent.
No one who saw it would ever forget it, that wondrous and awesome display of light, love, and happiness, easily dwarfing the mountain range beneath it. Like the radiance of a thousand suns bursting at once into the sky, like the splendor of a mighty one spreading, spreading, spreading until it enveloped a nation.
In its epicenter, as three more voices and three more (comparatively unseeable) motes of light joined in, one being leaned over to two others and said, "Now we are all fathers of saints."
Headmistress McGonagall would later think that the spell could well be called unprecedented, magnificent, beautiful, stupendous, and invigorating. No good wizard-made phenomenon of such tremendous power had occurred before in living memory, and even most of the evil powers paled in comparison. Mere words, she would think, are inadequate tools for acquainting those not present with the magical, mental, and psychological effects.
Princess Luna thought it was the nearest thing to universal beauty that could possibly be imagined. She was sure that, in one way or another, at the start of a good world – in the first millisecond of new Earth's existence – humanity will finally see what Equestria is seeing. Whether that already happened months ago, or has yet to happen, she couldn't say.
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Welcome to The Show.
I have a distinct feeling that I have seen this pony somewhere in the image boards before... but I cannot recall exactly where.
I guess Harry's fallout is the reversal of entropy or something
11691576
Ah... it wasn't a reference to any pony, or MLP in general. It's further afield than that. I even had a character name what it was a reference TO in that sequence.
I've been rewatching Hunter X Hunter, and I keep thinking about how your Princess Luna would react to the stuff HXH just kinda glosses over
11702372
Well that was overkill.
That 'language game' has been played for centuries, and, in case you haven't noticed, the only immutable constants in this WORLD are the speed of light in a vacuum, gravity, and Time. Literally everything else is arbitrarily constucted by humanity as a vague interface for how we define our surroundings, and that includes yourself I don't really have the mental energy for a full debate due to outside influences (mainly being trapped in a tedious work environment where I can barely get enough money to scrape by, and trying to claw my way out of said hole.) So I'm just going to say that I personally was educated thoroughly before I began my transition, both through extensive personal reasearch (it was a couple years ago otherwise I'd actually track down the studies, sorry) and by the prescribing clinician. I've experienced virtually zero negative side effects from the HRT itself, and when I was forced to go off of it for a year due to financial instability, not only my mood but my physical health declined drastically. I've never personally heard anything about children being forced onto ANY medication, much less HRT unless it was strictly medically necessary. At most it'd be puberty blockers and those are completely reversible with minimal side effects from everything I remember reading, though admittedly I was in my 20s when I decided maybe the whole 'being male' thing wasn't for me so my research in that particular branch was rather light. Ultimately, the main objective is for me (and any other trans person) to be comfortable in their own body (and also honestly I'm not sure if it's considered Schadenfreude but watching people try and figure out exactly what to call me is both extremely satisfying and hilarious at times, but that's just me.) In summary, I really do wish I had the energy and ability to change your mind on that subject. But at the moment especially I clearly have neither. (And before you ask, I was like this before the HRT and in fact it was much worse simply due to the fact that everything just felt wrong. It still does, but waaaaay less, and I'd honestly prefer to be able to change my shape at will to fit my mood but that is strictly Fantasy, sadly.)
Sidenote: In this particular case I wasn't actually really talking about trans people, I was referring to how Loki is accredited to birthing the 8-legged horse of Odin, Sleipnir, thus being considered his mother, despite primarily identifying as male.
+Edit comment: I'm sorry my formatting is trash I scrawled this out on my phone over me getting home from work then sleeping
11702909
Yep. I wanted to be as absolutely clear as possible so that I was as difficult to misconstrue or straw man as possible. Also to make the language game is as difficult to play as possible, and if you had tried anyway after I laid out my position in precise detail, AND after explicitly stating I don't like the language game, that would have told me all I needed to know. Namely, that the argument wasn't worth having. Also, I'll mention that I wasn't expecting you personally to have transitioned. Not surprising in retrospect, based on the comment I initially replied to.
You see, this is the 'brain falling out' territory that I was talking about. (1) DNA, which falls within the 'literally everything else' catgory according to your claim, existed LONG before humans did. (2) Humans didn't arbitrarily construct a vague interface for it. Biologists (and before that natural philosophers) have always had the goal of understanding "human beings" (and life in general) in such a way THAT THE MAP THEY DRAW ACTUALLY MATCHES THE TERRITORY, which isn't arbitrary, and it's hardly vague at this point. (3) Even if DNA isn't immutable in an absolute theoretical sense, I repeatedly and specifically said in my own comment that it's practically immutable AT OUR CURRENT LEVEL OF TECHNOLOGY if the goal is to turn a biological male into a biological female. I even pointed out nanotech as a potential future means of changing one's actual sex. I went out of my way to give as much charity as I could to the dream of transitioners, and it goes ignored. Which sometimes makes me wonder why I bother.
The "I've never personally heard anything" is part of the propaganda problem I mentioned. Or more accurately, echo-chambers. Though good on you for recognizing a lack of research on your end, and I'll admit that I've done little enough myself. But I DO listen to different information sources, which causes me to be able to be skeptical in the first place. That's the most important part of this entire discussion, actually. When you only get your information from pro-trans sources, you'll never learn about any problems with transitioning because nobody you listen to benefits from spreading 'anti-trans' information, even if it's true. Puberty blockers are NOT completely reversible with minimal side effects. That's the lie repeated so often it becomes true to those who never hear otherwise, or who don't WANT to hear otherwise. Lower bone density, less genital tissue, and stunted growth (as in, puberty blockers can make you permanently shorter than you otherwise would have been) aren't 'minimal' to most people. But the word 'minimal' is relative, you see. One of those arbitrarily constructed words invented by humans.
Well, I'm always willing to be convinced by evidence. Problem is, you're not using evidence to argue beyond personal anecdote, which is incredibly weak evidence, scientifically speaking. And where it really counts (cough cough XX/XY chromosomes cough cough), you haven't used any evidence at all, just thrown out the "literally everything else is arbitrary constructs" line, which is flatly wrong.
In the words of a memorable rant against the 'what even IS real?' line of thought that comes from philosophers who are more akin to stoners than actual thinkers: "REAL IS WHERE YOUR FOOD COMES FROM!"
It ain't arbitrary, and it ain't ignorable. Not yet, anyway, and probably not in our lifetimes. By which I mean if literally everything goes right with A.I., MAYBE the world will look something like heaven on earth before we die. But before that point, and heck probably even AFTER that point, reality won't be ignorable, you'll still need to eat, and you probably won't be able to take yourself apart and put yourself back together again on a microscopic level such that you survive the process. Which is what an actual transition from XY to XX chromosomes in every cell in your body as well as all the other physical changes would require.
11707466
To be fair I'm like constantly half-asleep because I'm majorly depressed from various environmental factors that I'm unable to control because money. (No it's not the HRT it was actually a whole lot worse before, at least I get bursts of energy sometimes now.) I have no idea where the fuck 'the only immutable concepts are...' shit came from. And like I said, ultimately I'm just trying to make this meat sack I call a body more comfortable for me, which isn't necessarily just 'the other side' of the metaphorical switch we call sex and gender. I'm well aware I'll never have the exact genetic code of a woman but I also don't give a fuck. I just want people to call me by the name I choose, and maybe to just not use 'he' when referring to me most of the time because it feels icky. Not particularly difficult, right?
11707631
All of this began when you said "boys can be moms." I argued against that claim specifically, and pointed out a number of general issues surrounding that debate. What you want in your own personal life is a different topic, which I'll address now that you've brought it up, but prior to this point that was beyond the scope of the argument.
Free will 101: you can't control other people. If your happiness relies on other people acting the way YOU want them to act, whether that's what they call you or anything else, you've doomed yourself to be unhappy, because there will always be people out there who WON'T do what you want them to do:
Rebellious teens who don't want to be told what to do period, and will do the opposite of what you want just because they feel like it. Rebellious adults who don't like being compelled, even if it's a reasonable request. People who disagree with your worldview in general. People who are actual idiots and can't even comprehend basic algebra. People who don't have English as a first language. Sadists. Power-grabbing psychopaths who DON'T consider politeness to your wants and needs to be beneficial to their rise to power.
All of these are cases where you're not likely to be called you what you want to be called, or treated you how you want to be treated. Relying on the kindness of strangers isn't a reliable strategy for long-term satisfaction, peace of mind, happiness, etc.
So when you say "Not particularly difficult, right?", my response is "Not just difficult, but impossible. Unless you give in to the temptation to control the people around you, and even that won't give you what you really want."
My main concern is that false belief can't last forever, and when it ends it can either be a soft landing, a hard landing, or a bloody crash, which is why I started all of this in the first place. I truly hope that, at the end of your own trans journey, you do not become just another tally on the suicide statistic. You and I both know that pronouns aren't the problem. It's people. And by 'people' I don't mean random strangers on the internet or elsewhere. I mean your family and friends. I mean your boss and co-workers. Your teachers and fellow students.
Could anybody you know cast a Patronus Charm using YOU as their happy thought? That's a real thinker. Heck, I'll probably use it in-story.
11708178
Not sure, I would certainly hope so but Love is a fickle thing, isn't it. My memory's always been a bit trash tbh so if I can remember a powerful enough feeling. i might be able to get it, assuming magic can drag it out. But for another... I believe my Partner probably could. My mother and Grandmother as well, if how they perceived my birth and growth is accurate to what they've told me. But knowing if someone could manage it is kind of an exercise in futility as aside from inferring based on both gut feeling and how they treat me, short of Real-life legilimency I'll never really know
Honestly the name's more important to me personally, I just feel like it fits better, and that can easily be solved with people who don't already know me by introducing myself as such (Q, if you're curious. Yes it's a reference to John DeLancie's character from Star Trek (and the rest of the Continuum. I feel like because of the almoghty cosmic power of the Q in canon, the name presents infinite possibility and I like that. It's also a lot shorter which is just nice for writing.) The pronoun thing is mostly a matter of how orher people perceive me, and while I'm not making any particular effort in either direction I do look very definitively 'male' currently which I don't really have energy to fix, hopefully will after I finally crawl my way out of [Insert Shitty American State here] and into [slightly less shitty state alongside people I actually like (yes I knew them beforehand)]
Currently not considering self-termination tho, though it has been a problem in the past for different reasons. Thanks for the concern.
Excuse me dear author, after reading 1.2m words over the course of three weeks, I seem to have broken and/or misplaced the next button. Would you know when it might return?
I have really enjoyed the book so far. Thank you for writing it!
One small niggle: The bit about patronuses being unable to lie, thereby introducing a perfect lie detector to the HPMOR universe. Did you cover why Dumbledore did not use this to ask Harry about the Azkaban breakout? And why Riddle allowed Harry to participate, when Riddle should have known that Dumbledore could just ask Harry to confirm whether he participated using his patronus?
11718715
Nope, and I didn't think of them until you pointed them out. That's the problem with introducing your own mechanics. I guess it wasn't quite as canon-plausible as I thought. The Dumbledore one is easy enough to explain away with "Prophecy told him to not ever prompt/ask others to use Patronus truth-messages as a lie-detection function", or something like that, and he decided that was a general warning about distrusting people capable of casting Patronuses, and so the thought of Patronus lie-detecting Harry simply didn't occur to him, or it did and he immediately discarded it. Whatever excuse exists for him not asking his phoenix patronus if Harry's human Patronus was the one from the breakout (after both parties had called them forth in his office, on his request), that excuse might also work for me, because if Yudkowsky can overlook minor plotholes, so can I.
But yeah, if Draco knows about Patronus messages only telling the truth like I think I once had him think about in his internal narration in this story (when considering truth-telling in courts, I think), then Voldemort certainly knows. Thus, Voldemort would not bring Harry along on the Azkaban breakout, or not forget to order someone to Obliviate Harry of the Azkaban breakout, and I think that's beyond the realm of a 'minor' plothole. The best stretch I could give is to say he'd have faith in Harry to refuse Dumbledore's request to speak a message using his Patronus, or find a clever way out of Dumbledore's questioning, which Harry did in fact have to do about another issue (Hermione's corpse), though that was afterwards. But then, Voldemort would have at least WARNED Harry about the truth-telling function, so that Harry could come up with a good excuse for not being able to send the message. Like, 'I don't like that I'm being distrusted THIS MUCH by you, Headmaster. Me not being there at the breakout isn't exactly happy news, since I might have been able to do something to stop it, so I can't send that message.' Or something like that. The only excuse to Voldemort failing to prepare Harry for THAT might be 'I'm not going to tell him because he should already know about the mechanic and foreseen the part where Dumbledore forces him to try it', but it's not like Voldemort expected Harry to have figured out the Parseltongue truth-telling function on his own prior to revealing it directly, so that's even more of a stretch.
But yes, your basic point about Patronus messages being unable to lie introducing a few plotholes in retrospect to canon is well-taken. Not much to be done about it at this point. It was, in my view at the time, a necessary mechanic to introduce at that point in the story. Perhas if I were more creative, I could have come up with something better, framed the chapter so that it wasn't the case that Dumbledore had to be convinced right away, in less than an hour. But I considered Patronus truth-telling a sufficiently clever and interesting idea, with important and useful future plot implications, and so my mind would have had a great deal of trouble discarding it, and who knows how the story would have looked then.
11718230
After reading all your comments in one setting, I suppose it's too late to say, "Hope you enjoy." It's a strange feeling when IRL stuff happens for a few weeks, you don't visit FIMfiction for a while, you come back, and someone has gone and binged all of HPMoR and your own spinoff fic in the meantime.
I'm glad I could introduce you to HPMoR, and I'm glad you think this fic is good too.
The next chapter button will be coming back tonight, hopefully. And then it'll be gone for hopefully only one week at a time, until the story's over. But hopes often clash with reality. On fanfiction, that sad fact takes the shape of long, unexplained, and sometimes permanent hiatuses. Fingers are crossed it won't happen here.
I have returned, simply because I think this fic is better to read with bursts and not chapter by chapter
Another chapter for Equestria has officially started.
👍
Nice