Harry Potter and the Prancing of Ponies

by The Guy Who Writes

Chapter 24: First Day on the Job

Mr. Book sat in the royal library within the Canterlot castle, reading the Index of Ancient Artifacts. He had discovered and discarded many ideas for improving his great creation, and it was only his first day.

Searching for promising horcrux candidates wasn't his true goal, but if he was going through magical artifacts anyway – keeping an eye out for anything related to magical mirrors – he may as well make progress in other areas as well.

If not for the current three-horcrux restriction, he would not even be attempting to turn powerful artifacts into horcruxes. As he once said, the hopeless idiocy of his youth involved imbuing ancient lockets as anchors, instead of anonymous pebbles.

But since he could only make three for now, and since he had acquired the power to turn perfectly invisible by making his first horcrux, he may as well be similarly selective about his next two. He should also gather the items now, so that he would be ready to enchant them whenever an opportunity arose.

He had discarded his first idea long ago. He had too much respect for all that Merlin did to potentially end his Line Unbroken, which he had acquired his first day here. He'd done it far less blatantly than the Elder Wand, but both were found around the same time.

If Mr. Book was certain his Great Creation would not interfere with the Line's function, he might have done it. But powerful rituals, and the devices made in the process, have a tendency to clash with each other, not harmonise. The Deathly Hallows that were made to avoid death (same as his great creation) were an exception.

And even if he knew for a fact there wouldn't be any problems if he horcruxed Merlin's legacy, anchoring his mortality through the Line might make him inherit it, and that responsibility was not on his to-do list. Dumbledore, guided by prophecy, said that Silver should become Merlin's heir, and Mr. Book saw no reason to interfere with that outcome.

The Line had been firmly placed in the "NO" category of potential horcruxes.

The first potential "YES" he encountered was known as the Alicorn Amulet, which may or may not turn him into an ageless alicorn if he incorporated it into his great creation. His own ritual did not stop him from growing old, and he did not look forward to jumping from body to body if the stone of permanence remained unusable that long.

The second potential "YES", the 'Crystal Heart', might allow him to float free of his three allotted anchors if it became one of them. That was more immediately important than agelessness. But, given the description, there were many other things it might do to him. It might turn him into a crystal pony. It might connect his thoughts/emotions to the heart, or the rest of the crystal empire. The heart itself might no longer function due to 'corruption', and that would turn the whole project into a dud.

He continued reading.

The third "YES", the 'Staff of Soul', was much more promising.

"It's six o'clock," said the guard. "Time's up."

Mr. Book had initially questioned why a private library would need operating hours.

He had been told that the library didn't have operating hours. The guards assigned to him did. The day guard had plenty of soldiers, but the night guard was sparsely employed enough that they could not afford to spare a single body to watch over him. And besides, his duties to the princess would start at eight o'clock anyway, and he wouldn't be allowed to stay in the library when he was supposed to be on the job, and he was lucky that he was allowed here in the first place, so he should just get reading.

He would have tried to remember the face, but the guard who said all this wore a typical guard's armor, which hid the identity of the wearer. Even that minor hurdle would not have truly stopped his vengeance, except that most of the points were valid, conveyed no less politely than he himself normally spoke, so he dropped the resentment before it could fester into action.

"Return the book," the guard ordered, "and I'll escort you out."

Mr. Book's magic closed the Index of Ancient Artifacts and returned it to the shelf.

The guard didn't bat an eye at first, but then did a doubletake. "Wait, how'd you do that?"

"Ask my former classmates."

Two minutes and an out-of-sight Apparition later, he started his search for items instead of information. He had two hours.

It took surprisingly little effort to track down the Alicorn Amulet, and even less effort to steal it from the current owner – an idiotic unicorn who called herself Trixie, and who proved easy enough to memory charm into forgetting she ever had it. He found her living in a mobile home a mile from where the book said the Amulet was supposed to be, from which he inferred she recently stole it.

He had been expecting that to take much, much longer, but such was life. This artifact took thirty minutes, another might take thirty years. It often evened out in the end. Hopefully the mirror would be on the shorter end of the average.

A cast of tempus showed the time to be 18:56, giving him an hour to experiment.

His scanning charms, even the most thorough ones, revealed nothing nefarious, but when he briefly used the artifact, there was a noticeable effect on his state of mind. His thoughts became more self-flattering, his self-awareness lessened, and his impulsivity increased.

He immediately decided to forgo the horcrux idea and seal the artifact in a safe place.

There are rituals that improve magical strength. There are wit-sharpening potions that foster fast thought. There are artifacts rumored to boost a wizard's abilities tenfold. Mr. Book has yet to find a single 'performance enhancer' that does not have side-effects, hidden or otherwise.

Some are addictive. Others mandate personal sacrifices. Yet others impose permanent changes upon the body or mind of the user. Few were good for one's health in the long run.

By the time he'd Portkeyed back to Canterlot, the sun was low in the sky. Sunset would mark the start of his shift. He was expecting the job to be unpleasant, but he should not have to endure it for long. He had gotten through many scrolls already, and the private library within Canterlot castle was not overlarge. A few months, maybe a year at most, assuming he had to examine every tome.

A cast of Tempus showed that he still had twenty-five minutes, so he found a secluded spot and entered what Mr. Silver called 'zombie mode' for a Polyphasic nap.

That done, he walked to where he'd been told would mark the start his shift: the hall outside the Princess's bedchambers.

"Thou were almost late."

They began walking, escorted by two guards.

"I was exactly on schedule," Mr. Book corrected his current employer. "I do not like wasting time."

"Yes, thou said something similar to our sister's secretary."

"You were informed of the exchange to that level of detail?"

"We read the court transcript, though the transcribing stopped just before thou accused Blueblood of his tryst."

"Shame. That would mean my favourite parts were omitted."

His employer hummed in agreement. "We so wish we could have been there. Thou dost not know how many times we have merely heard rumors of that day."

Mr. Book tilted his head, considering for a long moment.

He had already told Quick Quill, who had told her editor and therefore almost certainly told her friends. He had not kept up with the Manehattan Manuscript, but she may even have told the entire city by now, and therefore the entire country. He knew and accepted that as a consequence beforehand. But to reveal it directly to the co-ruler of the realm...

"I could show you," Mr. Book offered.

...would leave no doubts as to who had 'invented' memory extraction and viewing. Now that it was out, he should take proper credit before some unicorn professor decides to pretend it was their idea.

"Beg pardon?"

Mr. Book raised a hoof to his temple and slowly drew out a silver thread of memory. It only took seconds, now that he'd already drawn it out before.

"What magic is this?" the princess questioned, sounding curious and fascinated.

"This is my memory of the matter. I could establish a station for you to view it, if you wish."

"We do," she said without hesitation. "We desperately do."

Mr. Book removed the basin from his pouch and set it to levitate in the middle of the hallway, interrupting their journey to wherever they'd been walking. "Yes, it floats," Mr. Book said, predicting and heading off the incredulity. He filled it with potion-modified water and deposited the memory. "Put your face into the pensieve to watch."

"Hold on," said the thestral guard who had been escorting them. "Princess, this might be a trap."

"He did not lie, Pitch Black," said the princess.

"Even so," said Mr. Book, "it is a reasonable concern. If he is worried about your safety, perhaps he should test it first." He did not allow even an ounce of mischief to enter his voice. "It can be re-used as many times as needs be."

The princess gave him a sideways glance, then shrugged. "A fair suggestion."

There was a pause.

"Well, Mr. Black?"

"Um..."

"Thy queen awaits the protection of her loyal guard."

The thestral, after much visible hesitation, put his head into the pensieve.

"It will take a few minutes," Mr. Book announced. "That memory is rather long."

"One moment then," said the princess. "All Nighter." Her other escort, a unicorn of deep blue coat, stood at attention. "Tell my sister we shall be late to dinner."

"Um... I'm not supposed to leave your side, princess. Especially since Pitch is... uh, occupied."

When she responded to this remark, the tone of the princess suggested to Mr. Book that she desperately wished to have her head in her hoof. "Thy princess has given thee a direct order. Thou art a unicorn. If thou dislike the prospect of leaving us alone, kindly use teleportation to carry out the task as quickly as possible." Then, at the guard's hesitance and reluctance, "Must it come to the threat of termination?"

The guard teleported away.

"I presume you were referring to the termination of his employment?"

"Of course."

"Does he know that?"

The princess smiled.

Mr. Book chuckled. "Out of curiosity, just how capable a fighter are you? This is the second time you have demonstrated confidence that you would not come to harm if, presumably, I meant you ill."

"Thou art not a unicorn," said the Princess. "Nor art thee armed. Thou pose little threat."

"My cloak could be concealing poisoned darts."

The princess was suddenly wary. "That was not a lie."

"Obviously," said Mr. Book. "My cloak could also be concealing wings, countless books, and the secret to immortality. To the well-organized mind, offering a thought experiment is like asking a question. Is it possible for a question to lie?"

"It is certainly possible to deceive a pony with a question," the princess said, even as she relaxed. "But we understand thy point, and shall answer thy hypothetical. If thou were concealing a poisoned weapon, even if thou took us by surprise, we would likely survive the assault, as we are resistant to poisons. But more likely than not, we would have teleported away."

"Imagine I sought out the deadliest poison known to ponies," he proposed, "and I activated a magical device designed to ward against teleportation as soon as I launched the supposed attack."

"We know of no such device," the princess said with a frown.

"But you know of anti-teleportation wards, and you know it is possible to enchant spells into devices."

There was a pause.

"Never underestimate an unknown," Mr. Book said after a time. "You have seen me do things you cannot explain. Having capable guards-"

All Nighter returned in the flash of a teleport.

"-is a wise precaution," he finished.

Not that a few bodyguards would matter if he truly meant her ill, which is why it didn't matter that he was offering this advice.

"I heard that the Night Guard is understaffed," he said without transition. "Is that due to exacting standards, a sparse number of applicants, poor performance, some combination of the three, or something else entirely?"

"A... combination," said the princess after a moment's thought. "And something else. The night guard is meant to be composed entirely of thestrals. But communication with our dearest of subjects has fallen by the wayside over the past thousand years, and recruitment efforts have been difficult. We have had to allow ponies not accustomed to the nocturnal lifestyle into our guard."

"If the Night Guard is meant to be composed of thestrals," Mr. Book posed, "how would they guard against magical attacks?"

There was a pause.

"Good question," said All Nighter.

"That was not meant for thee. To thy post."

"No," said Mr. Book, "I would like to hear his input. He is a guard, after all. He should have experience in the matter. Mr. Nighter, please explain why you believe my question was a good one."

The unicorn, who had been standing at attention once more, looked over his shoulder. He glanced at the princess. "Um..."

The princess looked at Mr. Book for a long moment, who returned her gaze equably. The princess turned to face the guard. "Answer."

"Um..." said the guard. He was visibly shaking. "H-having a-an all-thestral guard, y-your majesty, it's like..." the pony paused, his shaking slowing to a stop as he thought. "It's like having an all-pegasus guard. Or an all-earth pony guard. If somepony made a magical attack... I mean, I know we have magic-resistant armor, but still. They'd be easy targets. You need a unicorn to guard against dragons and hydra and cockatrices and wendigos and... and..."

"And other unicorns," Mr. Book offered.

"Um... yeah. Other unicorns."

"Even so, thou art not nocturnal," the night queen countered. "Thy performance shall wane as our night progresses."

"Um... I guess... but..."

"I think it is time I took over," said Mr. Book. "The performance of any pony will wane the longer it has been since they slept. It is an immutable fact of biology, suffered by creatures nocturnal and diurnal alike. Did coffee exist as a drink a thousand years ago, your majesty?"

"Coffee? What is that?"

"That is a no," said Mr. Book. "Coffee is a common stimulant drunk by the working, middle, and even upper classes. It is so common, in fact, that I am slightly surprised you do not already know of it. It has a very distinctive smell."

"What dost this 'coffee' have to do with staying awake through the night?"

"Would you care to answer that, Mr. Nighter?"

"Um... coffee is pretty good at keeping a pony awake, your majesty. For hours on end. I drink a cup every break."

Mr. Book nodded. "As I said, it is a very powerful stimulant." He first learned of coffee on the other side of the mirror as it applied to the first muggle world war. Wizards had their own stimulants, but coffee was the muggle go-to, and now the pony go-to as well. "It is so powerful that it can eliminate the problem of drowsiness on a practical level. And correct me if I am wrong All Nighter, but ponies working the 'night shift' is a relatively common occurrence in Equestrian business these days, is it not?"

"Um... yeah, that's right."

He turned to the princess. "Did the concept of a 'night shift' exist a thousand years ago?"

"Not outside the guard..."

"Then it should not be difficult to find capable ponies who prefer night work to day work, who have done it much of their lives, and who would be glad to serve at Canterlot castle, even if they are not thestrals." He turned back to the unicorn guard. "Thank you for your contribution, Mr. Nighter."

Though the guard did not participate in any more of the conversation after that point, he stood slightly straighter for the rest of the night.

"Thou... art correct... but..."

"But you are still partial to a night guard composed entirely of thestrals?" Mr. Book asked.

She nodded.

He had been partial to many beautiful yet impractical ideas in the past, so he understood the impulse, and the error.

"Celestia has enchanted the armor of her guards to make their appearances uniform. Perhaps you could do the same. Enchant the armor of the night guard to make them all seem like thestrals, regardless of their base species. It might also throw potential attackers off when a pony who seems hornless suddenly-" Pitch Black's head came up from the pensieve "-casts a stunner. Did you enjoy the show, Mr. Black?"

His fellow thestral scowled at him. "No."

Mr. Book grinned in turn. "I suspected the humour would be lost on a member of the guard. I also suspect it will not be lost on your princess." He gestured with his head, addressing his employer. "You shall be the fourth to see this, not including myself and the other original witnesses."

She dunked her head in without hesitation.

He got out a book to read while he waited. It vanished in a whisp of air when the princess came out of the memory.

"That- that IDIOT!" she shouted. "And those pompous- and Tia just sat there and- AND-"

The princess fumed wordlessly for a time. Mr. Book used that time to retrieve his memory, drain the pensieve water, and stash the basin.

"Credit where credit is due," Mr. Book said, almost surprised at himself for playing the part of placater. "She stepped in afterwards and reversed the idiocy. I went into that petition expecting complete and utter rejection. I also expected Blueblood to get away with all he did, even as he did it. I was impressed that your sister directly corrected her court's ineptitude."

"But that dost not excuse it! She should not have let it get that far! That was infinitely worse than the rumors made it out to be."

"You read Quick Quill's article, did you not?"

"We thought that an exaggeration! We could not believe otherwise because we could not fathom Tia would just sit through the described events and do nothing!"

"I was curious about that myself, as I pointed out in my letter to the editor. We shall be having dinner with her, no? You can ask her shortly enough."

"Yes," the princess declared. "We can."

And their march through the halls finally resumed, now with a princess making purposeful strides, forcing her guard to step up to speed. It did not help that her size allowed her to cover more ground with each leg. While she went at a steady trot, everypony else had to canter.

She did not slam open the doors to the dining room upon arrival, but that might have only been because her guards opened them before she could get there.

"Ah, sister," said Princess Celestia. "It is good to see you."

Princess Luna did not reply in kind. She simply nodded, said "Tia," then sat down.

Mr. Book stood well back from the table of nobles and dignitaries.

"May I ask what caused the delay?" Celestia asked before his employer could vent. "All Nighter said something about a memory? Did you forget something in your room?"

"No. 'Twas not my memory which delayed us. 'Twas Mystery Book's memory. Of that day he spent in your court."

Princess Celestia frowned ever so slightly. "You were delayed by his description of it?"

"You misunderstand, sister. He did not tell us. He showed us."

This did not clarify the misunderstanding, if Princess Celestia's facial expression was anything to go by.

Mr. Book coughed slightly, drawing her attention. He drew a simple, unrelated memory from his mind, let it float on the tip of his hoof for a time, then put it back in his head. He was now the center of the room's attention. He took out a book and began reading.

"Magic truly has come a long way," said Princess Luna, drawing attention away from him once more. "How recently was that discovered?"

"Um... sister, I still do not understand. I am unfamiliar with that magic. I have never seen it before."

Princess Luna's eyes furrowed. "But..."

Attention returned to Mr. Book, who did not look up from his namesake.

"I may or may not be the first pony in Equestria to make that potion," he said, turning a page, "and the first pony to magically extract my own memories. Part of why I did not mind leaving university for this position was that I grew tired of educating my professors."

His employer let out a burst of laughter. Involuntarily, it would seem, as evidenced by her quickly covering her mouth and apologizing for the faux pas. Though she, at least, seemed to have taken his humour as the 'it's funny because it's true' type.

Many other noble ponies at the table snorted incredulously, or murmured to the pony to their immediate left/right that he was lying, despite the blatant proof he'd just shown.

He could pretend to ignore them, exacting his vengeance later.

Or...

"The last noble who accused me of false testimony was Blueblood." He could be honest about things. "He is now serving six months in prison." He wouldn't ordinarily say this, but... "To any who repeat that mistake." He still wished to goad out the ineptness. He looked up from his book and gave an evil grin. "I look forward to the... fun we shall have together." He looked back down and turned another page. "You intended to ask your sister a question, your majesty?"

What followed was a conversation between sisters that could hardly be called sisterly. It did not make his employer happy.

"Keep in mind," Mr. Book said as they walked through the palace halls once again, "that she has had a thousand years to come to her current conclusions of non-interference. She has had up to a thousand years of practice in not changing her mind. I cannot even begin to imagine how to go about untangling that. For myself, I would call it a lost cause and move on."

"She is my sister," the night princess said in a warning tone. "She did not consider me a lost cause, even at my darkest. I shall never consider her one."

Mr. Book tilted his head consideringly. "In that case, I would like to tell you about something my student calls the planning fallacy..."

By the time they reached a location Mr. Book recognized, the Night Court doors, Princess Luna had wrapped her mind around the concept that a typical pony is not pessimistic enough when it comes to estimating task completion times. And yes, Mr. Book had run the experiment himself (on his fellow college students) just to be certain that it stayed true for ponies.

"Your sister has likely held her position of non-interference for a millennium," Mr. Book repeated. "Expect it to take a millennium more to convince her to change it. That way, you shall be pleasantly surprised if you make progress sooner. Like, say, in a mere hundred years."

---

His official job, as explained by his employer, would be to stand by her side, listen to each petition, listen to her responses, and speak up if he noticed a foil-worthy moment. After the first ten minutes, he asked if he could take out a book and read. The request was granted.

The first two hours passed without a foil-worthy moment.

Even after he came back from his twenty-minute break, it still did not seem like there would be any notable moments in the near future.

"Would you like to rehire me as a dedicated Night Court advocate?" Mr. Book asked. "Or advertiser?"

The night princess did not open her closed eyes. "No."

"You like an empty court schedule?"

"No."

"You would prefer the annoyances your sister likely suffers day in and day out?"

"Yes."

A pause.

A sigh.

"No. We would prefer what we once had."

"What did you once have? The history books said little."

Her eyes slowly opened, and the magical glow about her horn and hair faded. "We had a few ponies each day, asking for help in their personal lives."

"You did not have many visitors?"

"Oh, there were many visitors. But we dismissed the greedy and the dishonest outright, leaving only those who could truly use our help. We were told our advice on relationships was indispensable. We could... how did they put it... cut through the bull's manure? Yes, something like that."

In other words, she could spot the lies. Even the ones that the ponies told to themselves. Thanks to the Element of Honesty, no doubt.

"It was very fulfilling," she remarked in a reminiscent tone. But her tone soon turned sour. "At least until our court appointments dried up and ponies stopped coming."

"Why?"

Her eyes met his, and he could see pain in them. Hurt, but not resentment. "We do not know. We never did understand how that happened. The ponies whom we helped were always appreciative. Genuinely appreciative. Not flattering with false thanks. Not pretending with platitudes. Not..." she trailed off, eyes now distant. "But then they just... stopped coming. And not just the good ones. The greedy ponies stopped petitioning too. Everypony stopped coming." She looked down. "They stopped coming..." Her voice lowered, as if she were now speaking to herself. "And I still don't know why."

Mr. Book tilted his head. The key to a puzzle is often something you read twenty years ago in an old scroll, he had once told Mr. Silver. In this case, it was closer to twenty days ago, though the 'old scroll' part still applied.

His mind almost outright rejected the idea of giving her the answer. He didn't do 'kind'.

But then he remembered the fact that his self-image of not being nice had cost him ten years of his life. So instead of rejecting the idea, he asked himself if it would further his agenda in any way.

Giving the answer wasn't guaranteed to further his goals... but it would likely reflect well on him, which might help. And it would cost him little. In fact, it would give him something to do besides reading, which would be welcome at this point, since he had not brought any particularly engaging books with him. A mistake he would rectify in future shifts.

"I think I might know where to find at least part of the answer to that question," he said after running the cost-benefit analysis. "As it seems my foolish services are not quite needed at the moment, would you excuse me a while to fetch it?"

"I... suppose?" the princess said, sounding quite confused.

"Then I shall be back in less than an hour."

Apparition could have made things instant, but he wanted the local population to assume pre-prepared twigs were his only means of instant travel. If they ever attempt to investigate the method, they shall be so busy figuring out portkeys that they will almost certainly overlook the possibility that he has other means of escape. He also refrained from flying to the library and back, again for the reason of secrecy. He galloped. It was – as Mr. Silver had once remarked – what ponies were meant to do. There was a feeling of biological fulfillment to it.

Thirty minutes and one stolen library book later, Mr. Book entered the royal palace once more. He returned to the room that had likely not hosted a single night court petition for over a thousand years, bringing with him a book that was a thousand and twelve years old.

"Check page twenty," he offered, only slightly winded at the effort.

Her magic flipped open the book.

Page twenty was, seemingly, harmless on its face. It simply gave the statistical likelihood that a petition would be resolved in the petitioner's favour. Purely factual information. Automatic dismissal of those 'greedy and dishonest' petitioners had probably contributed to Princess Luna's 15% success rate, as opposed to Princess Celestia's 40%.

His employer looked at the page. She saw nothing strange. She said as much.

"You are right," Mr. Book agreed. "It is not strange in the slightest that ponies stopped showing up to your court. The book on court procedure told them they are less likely to find success here, after all."

The princess's eyes widened. Her eyes darted back down to the book. For the next minute, her gaze was so intent on the page that, if she were an underage wizard, she might have burned a hole straight through it.

"I don't believe it," said the princess in an un-amplified voice. "I thought..."

"Of course," Mr. Book said after the silence had stretched enough to be noticed, "there may have been other contributing factors."

The princess looked to Mr. Book, as if she'd forgotten he was there. When she spoke, it was with a tight voice. "Thank you, Mystery Book. You are dismissed for the night. I am closing court early."

Mr. Book's eyebrows rose, but he did not argue.

The rest of his night had just opened up, apparently, and he still had another artifact to hunt down. And a library book to return.

---

Celestia woke to a sound and sensation she had not heard or felt for over a thousand years.

Her sister was crying into her coat.

"Luna?" she asked, instantly awake. "What's the matter?"

"I thought they hated me," her sister sobbed. "I thought they hated me."

Celestia quickly pulled her sister into a firm embrace. "I know, Lulu." She knew they never did. "I know."

Comments

[SpectralFury]

I am slowly beginning to suspect that Voldemort is being infected by this pony disease called friendship. All it takes is a few favors here and there, the feeling of, if not pleasure, indifference rather than disgust, and soon he's addicted. Very quickly he turns into an anti-hero or better. The mirror's condition for release is satisfied and then BAM! Tom Riddle redeemed.

[The Guy Who Writes]

10879793
I did consider something along those lines when I was first plotting out the story. "When you do things right, people won't be sure if you've done anything at all." -Futurama.

[Booster Spice]

Poor Luna.

Marketing can sell Anything.

[Greenhorn]

"Um... sister, I still do not understand. I am unfamiliar with that magic. I have never seen it before."

Amazingly, even Celestia didn't question how a non-unicorn could cast any magic at all.

[Crystonian]

10880117
I mean....she has seen a lot of things over the centuries of her life. I mean we got a literal monkey with a staff that controls storms. So eh

[The Guy Who Writes]

10880117
Well, as an Alicorn, she DOES know on a visceral level that the other two races have magic.

As I had Mr. Book internally narrate a while back, there have been non-unicorns in the past with magic-related talents (in this story, at any rate), and Celestia would have seen some of those with her own two eyes. She's just assuming Mr. Book is one of them. A thousand-year-old character is hard to surprise.

[lainverse]

10880473
They literally have Pinkie Pie there. If she doesn't use magic for at least half of what she do on a regular basis then she's an eldritch horror on vacation. Even being relative of Discord wouldn't cut in since he also uses magic.

[Mordaneus]

So, Princess Luna got 1-star rating, became unpopular in Facebook and turned Nigthmare Moon because of it?
Does not count even as good joke... There must been gossips about "harsh but fair judge".

[keybounce]

11318351
Any rumor of "harsh but fair judge" would have been countered by factual statements like "You can only try once, and you have an 85% chance of failure here. Sure, she may be harsh and fair when she rules in your favor, but how likely is that?"

keeping an eye out for anything related to magical mirrors

Ohh ... Suddenly, I'm thinking of the EqG world. Can you imagine Voldy Mr. Book finding out about Sirens, the magic of another world, and perhaps ...

Hmm, what would he do? A world without a magical britain, with a human population that was different than the humans he's used to ...

Ohh. He has no promises against horcrux limitations in that world, does he?

[Mordaneus]

11321288

Any rumor of "harsh but fair judge" would have been countered by factual statements like "You can only try once, and you have an 85% chance of failure here.

And it shows how misleading this ratings are... One day Night court will be pleaded by 9 financial machinators (who got chased away) and 1 pony with a real problem, who will receive help from Princess.
Resulting success rate - 10% :-)))))

Once I had a need for video downloader app for my phone. Searched, checked up - and saw a lot of 1* reviews: "not working" again and again. One had decency to write "tried to download from YouTube, it did not worked, 1* ".
No app at Play Store will download anything from YouTube, as it will be piracy, but a lot of people wrote their 1* reviews because of that....

[keybounce]

11321396
As a matter of fact, before I went from memory, I asked Google for recent research on that topic, and yes, it came back with (among others) that video. And since that video was
a: from a respected source,
b: relatively well researched,
c: compact, and to the point
d: *clear*

I was able to use it, and it's conclusions, rather than trying to / expecting to recall 10 year old memories of research accurately.

(reposted on the correct chapter page.)

[Black--Soul]

That information plus probably nobels running a silent smear campaign was most likely the cause of the situation. Also like her fired secretary, probably bucking off ponies that tried getting help.