Harry Potter and the Prancing of Ponies

by The Guy Who Writes

Chapter 4: Reconnaissance

Author's Note:

Minor change to last chapter: I added a scene where they put on their robes. Can't believe I forgot that.

On a pathway leading to a distant village...

"For the last time, Spike," groaned a purple unicorn in a voice that sounded female. "There isn't anything there."

"But there IS!" replied 'Spike', a green lizard creature sitting on her back. It stared into the sky with what were probably keen eyes. "I see something."

"Well I don't," declared the purple unicorn. "Now come on. We don't have much time!"

...

When the blue light that guided his way reappeared, Mr. Silver whispered, "Is there a magical way to avoid that lizard?"

"Yes," said a sardonic voice, magically reduced to the volume of a whisper. "Turn around and fly in the other direction."

---

At the no-longer distant village...

As soon as their invisible forms came to a stop above the town square, they encountered an unpleasant shock.

A pink pony, at the top of her lungs and in the view of every pony in town, shouted "WELCOME TO PONYVILLE!" while looking directly at them.

"Um..." said a nearby pony running a stall. "Nopony's there, Pinkie."

"Sure there is!" replied 'Pinkie' in that grating voice. "A rumbly tummy and twitchy eye means mister meanie pants and mister smarty pants are on their way! But they stopped, so they're here! It's time for a PARTY!"

A different nearby pony made an exasperated noise. "You just threw that new purple pony a party. Even if new ponies are on their way, can't you wait a day?"

"Wait?" asked the pink one, aghast. "For a PARTY?! But everypony needs a 'Welcome to Ponyville' party! Especially these two!"

More words might have entered into the exchange, but the two invisible ponies were out of earshot by that point.

"Regard the pink one as a stupid, short-term seer," Mr. Book spell-whispered flatly. "Like Luna Lovegood."

"Already on it."

Pause.

"Wait, the Quibbler girl actually is a seer?"

---

Some distance away from the village...

*SNORE*

A cyan pegasus with a rainbow mane was sleeping.

*SNORE*

In the sky.

*SNORE*

On a cloud.

*SNORE*

"Wow," said Mr. Silver as he stood on a cloud. "I figured magic was at play with our flight. Our wingspans are way too small to generate enough lift. But I wasn't expecting this. I wonder what else we can do."

"Indeed," said Mr. Book from atop a cloud of his own.

---

Further from the village, outside a cottage...

"Don't worry, Mr. Squirrel," said a light yellow pegasus with pink hair.

The squirrel pointed insistently at the sky, making chittering noises as it did.

"But there's nothing there," said the pegasus.

The squirrel began pouting.

Then crying.

"Shh, shh. Calm down. It's okay."

...

...

...

...

...

"SQUIRRELS ARE SENTIENT?!"

"You are confusing the term sentient with sapient, Mr. Silver."

The pegasus froze mid-hover. His stomach dropped. His Slytherin part quickly reshuffled his priorities.

"Hold on. Does that mean... your promise not to kill smart creatures...?"

"Sstop worrying," hissed the empty air. "When wordss of ssnake sspeech do not ssuffice, sspeakerss musst sshare undersstanding of meaning to exchange promisse. Knew what you meant. My promisse bindss me to not kill ssmart creaturess. And by smart, I mean sapient. What I jusst ssaid in normal sspeech wass not lie."

Mr. Silver let out a sigh of relief. "Why didn't you try to abuse that loophole?"

"There was no loophole to abuse. It would have been far more constraining to spare the merely sentient. Dogs are sentient. Cats are sentient. Chickens are sentient. Sapience is rarer, and so less binding. Though given the nature of that squirrel, it might not have made a difference."

---

On the porch of a house in the middle of an apple tree orchard...

"I'm tellin' ya, somethin' ain't right!"

"Eeyup."

"I can feel it in my bones!"

"Eeyup."

"Somethin's watchin' me, I jes know it!"

"Eeyup."

The old, green pony stopped rocking in her chair. "Celestia dern it, Mac, will ye git up and find whatever's watchin' us?"

The large red pony, who looked rather exhausted, didn't move from the porch.

"Eenope."

...

"Any hypotheses?" Mr. Silver asked.

"Perhaps all wingless, hornless ponies have some amount of innate seer magic within them."

"Like the centaurs from back home?"

"Precisely."

---

Back at the village...

"Thank you for the wonderful treatment, darlings," said a unicorn with a pearly white coat. Her horn glowed briefly, removing golden coins from bags strung over her back. "You've earned twice your normal tip. Have a wonderful night, Lotus, and you as well, Aloe."

The coins, encased in a white glow, floated over to the blue/pink and pink/blue masseuses. "Any time, Rarity."

The unicorn smiled magnanimously and turned to trot down the path, head held high.

"So ponies can cast spells," whispered Mr. Silver.

"I suspect only the unicorns can cast spells," Mr. Book corrected. "The other races use their mouths and hooves to manipulate objects, not charms. They have magic, but not spellwork."

---

Mr. Silver swooshed in for a landing at their original meadow. Using broomstick rods might not be as real as winged flight, but it sure was fun.

"So," he began, "Since we can cast spells, we can do something no one will suspect we can do. Question is, do we exploit it, or take no risks that others find us out?"

"Exploit," said Mr. Book at once, disillusionment dropping as he descended. "With reasonable efforts to keep it secret. If we ever want to escape, Mr. Silver, our magic will likely be necessary. Furthermore, you need more magical training and I need to stay in practice. We therefore require a location that would allow the use of our wands without fear of discovery. This meadow will not suffice." The thestral's gaze wandered to a nearby landmark. "That mountain might do nicely."

The flight to the mountain took maybe twenty minutes. Broomstick enchantments somewhat protected against wind resistance and took no physical effort, so Mr. Silver treated the trip as something like a break, giving his mind time to rest and recover.

When they arrived, Mr. Book cast a large silencing barrier, then began carving a channel into the mountain. He used a spell Mr. Silver didn't recognize, one that built support structures as it went. The incantation hadn't sounded like Latin or English, leading Mr. Silver to suspect that it hadn't come from magical Britain. Spells could be invented, so this spell had probably been made in an industrious wizarding society.

"Was that spell incantation Mandarin?" he asked.

"Hindi."

The spell progressed at a rapid pace, and soon enough Mr. Book stopped drilling. Two charms hid the entrance, five more acted as semi-permanent security wards, and the bare bones of their hideout had been established.

"Wait until I have secured the inside," said Mr. Book, and disappeared into the dwelling.

Mr. Silver waited patiently, trying to remember how long it normally took to speak the standard suite of 37 security charms. A minute? Two?

After around three minutes, Mr. Book's voice said, "Come," and Mr. Silver walked into the darkness.

The dark didn't last. Not long after the light of the sun faded behind him, the tunnel opened into a well-lit cavern of glowing gemstones.

"Wow," said the pegasus at the sight of the crystals. "This reminds me of a few fantasy book settings."

"You'll have plenty of time to enjoy the scene later, Mr. Silver," said the thestral. "We have other priorities."

"Yeah, I know." His stomach had been demanding his attention for a while now. "What's on the menu?"

"You saw the orchard of apples earlier, did you not?"

"The orchard that's part of a farm? The farm that belongs to someone? That orchard?"

"Yes, that orchard."

"What about it?"

"You are hungry," said Mr. Book as if speaking to a simpleton. "The trees have apples. Apples are edible."

"So you want us to steal our first meal."

"Unless you have a better idea."

"Not off the top of my head," said the pegasus. "But I'm sure we could brainstorm a few ideas if we spent five minutes on the problem. Especially with hunger as a motivator."

"Why go through the effort when we already have a viable solution?"

"We don't know how the justice system works here, or how good the security is. We also don't know the strength of the military. Since this is a plot where our lives could be on the line if we screw up, we should keep the core concept as simple as possible and take every precaution. Constraining ourselves to lawful action until we know more is a sensible precaution."

The thestral snorted. "I seriously doubt these ponies will notice two invisible creatures picking a few apples from trees."

"Probably," Mr. Silver conceded. "But remember, the ground ponies can sense strange things. They might be able to sense a theft and report it to whatever serves as the police. Plus, we've already been spotted a few times."

The thestral seemed to pause. "I stand by my comment. I do not think it will be anything to worry about."

"Then think of it like a challenge," Mr. Silver proposed. "A difficult problem that requires a creative solution. We have no money, no resources, no social capital. We barely know anything about this new world, or even our own biology. The core concept is as simple as it gets: acquire food. Stealing is like cheating, it's the easy way out. We have five minutes to generate ideas, and we have to abide by the law. Solve."

The thestral looked at Mr. Silver a moment, shrugged, then closed his eyes. Mr. Silver closed his own.

Both brains began generating ideas, honed by hundreds, if not thousands of hours of practice. They discarded the impractical ones, did not get distracted by promising ones, examined each idea against what they believed were the cold facts of reality, and refused to stop thinking about the problem until at least five minutes had passed.

After ten minutes, the thestral said, "I have three ideas."

"I have two."

"Speak."

"Okay. First idea: find a field and graze on grass, then go to a river and drink. This place doesn't look like it's gone through the industrial revolution yet, so I don't think pollutants pose a problem."

The thestral's nose wrinkled for a moment, then the thestral thought for another moment. "I see. It requires no interaction with the local populace, it is entirely free, and if feasible, it would always work as a fallback meal plan." Mr. Book nodded. "Acceptable, though you are overlooking something."

"What?"

The thestral transfigured a large earthenware cup from a stone, said "Aguamenti", and began drinking.

Mr. Silver wrinkled his own nose. "Right. Magic. There's a charm that violates physics so much that my mind tried to forget about it. That should have generated five hundred quadrillion joules of energy, you know."

The thestral's eyebrows rose, stopping his sipping to stare at his stein. "That much?"

"Creating one gram of mass would generate ninety trillion."

"Interesting," said Mr. Book. "In any case, I admit your first idea is worth testing. What is your second?"

"You won't like it," sighed Mr. Silver. "We'd have to interact with the local populace, but we're probably going to have to do that anyway. That pink pony did say she would throw us a party, and there's usually free food at parties. And this way, we can get a better understanding of the local culture."

There was a long pause.

"If you wish to go down that route, Mr. Silver, you may do so. But I am not going anywhere near that pink buffoon of my own volition."

Mr. Silver nodded. "I understand. What are your ideas?"

"I think I shall keep them to myself." The thestral grinned. "I assure you, they are all perfectly legal."

"Are they perfectly moral?"

The thestral's grin widened. He didn't answer.

"You know," said Mr. Silver thoughtfully, "we don't actually know what is or isn't against the law. The basic ones we can guess, like murder and theft. But these ponies seem pretty... what's the word... sensitive? Fragile? Girly? It's possible their laws are so... um... progressive that emotional manipulation counts as illegal, somehow."

The grin of the thestral vanished.

"And again, it's possible the ground ponies can sense it. Given that new constraint, how many ideas do you have?"

...

"I begin to find your constraints annoying, Mr. Silver."

Mr. Silver shrugged. "All part of problem-solving. And I forgot to add this earlier, but did your ideas take into account that we don't actually know what our diets are supposed to be? I didn't see any other thestrals at the village, and since you have sharp teeth, you might have a different diet from other ponies."

There was a pause. Again, Mr. Book did not answer.

"How about this. We both go to the party, but I lend you my cloak so there's no chance of someone seeing you again. You further ward yourself, especially against the noise of the pink pony. If she throws a party, you can sample the food when nobody is looking. If she doesn't, I'll ask about pegasus and thestral diets in a way that isn't obvious. But before we do that, we try grazing. Sound good?"

"No."

...

"But it will do."

---

Grazing was a success, if you could call what they did 'grazing'. Using magic to cut the blades, gather them into a clump, and shred them into a mush might not qualify.

Neither pony liked it, but neither disliked it either. It was like drinking water, according to their tastebuds. And there's only so much water a person can tolerate in one sitting.

"I shall render your rods and pouch invisible before we visit the village," said the thestral. "And..." he looked down with a frown. "We shall have to remove our robes."

"Um... I get that we're ponies, and we have fur now, so being naked isn't exactly indecent, but on the other side of the mirror, a statement like that would be seen as widely inappropriate, especially in the company of a minor."

"Yes, I am well aware of that Mr. Silver." The thestral's expression was bitter and distasteful. "I am not suggesting it because I want to. I don't. I would prefer to wear apparel. If I find out that it is acceptable to wear clothes in public, I am robing myself immediately. That said, I did not see a single article of clothing while we were scouting, save the occasional hat. Our robes would stick out like a Lumos in the dark. They might be considered unorthodox, or even indecent, by the local populace. You see now why I did not consider your suggestion a good one."

"Ah."

---

It took a single question posed to a passing pedestrian to locate the pink pony.

She works in the bakery, and the bakery is that way, and why does he want to see her, exactly?

That was a good question.

A stream of sentences slammed into Mr. Silver as soon as he stepped into Sugarcube Corner. "Hi Mr. Smarty Pants! Welcome to Ponyville! How are you? Where's Mr. Meany Pants?"

The pegasus decided at once that he would not be unnerved and would not take that nickname lying down. "I'm fine, Ms. Loud Mouth."

Many nearby ponies gasped, and at least one chuckled.

"Mr. Book is shy and hates parties, but he's hungry. Does your twitching happen to know what he likes to eat?"

"Of course it does, Mr. Smarty Pants!" She closed the gap between them in an instant and whispered, "He's a bat pony, and bat ponies love bugs!"

Mr. Silver refused to show any signs of discomfort or surprise at her quite literal in-your-face attitude. "Spot on, Ms. Loud Mouth."

The pink pony again seemed to teleport back to her old place. "My name isn't Ms. Loud Mouth, silly." Two canons manifested from thin air – no, it looks like they fell from her hair – and showered confetti around her as she shouted, "It's Pinkie Pie!"

Of course it is, thought Mr. Silver in a major mental moan.

He'd thought 'Pinkie' had just been a nickname. Apparently not. And with native names like that, his own alien alias shouldn't stand out at all.

"I'm Mr. Silver, and my friend is Mr. Book. Pleased to meet you."

"Such a polite young colt," said one of the bakery's nearby patrons.

"I'm surprised he hasn't run away like all the others," whispered another.

"Mister Silver?" Pinkie looked deeply confused. "I can't throw a party if I don't know your full name! Wait! Don't tell me, maybe I can guess the rest!"

She looked at the mark on his flank, and that was all it took to set her off again.

"WOW!" Her eyes widened more than they should have been able to. "What's this? What're those? What's that? What's it mean? Is that a basketball? Why does the pony have eight legs? Why is it silver? Wait, is that your name? Silver Pony? No, wait, Silver Ball! No, wait, Silver Moon! Those are moons, right? Or is Silver your second name and something else comes first? Like... Bright Silver! Space Silver! SHINY SILVER!" She seemed ready to explode at this point.

Mr. Silver had taken several unconscious steps backwards. "Um..."

Thankfully, he could pretend his hesitation was the result of Pinkie's overwhelming gaggle of guesses, not because he didn't know his own name. And the suggested names gave him a few ideas, quickly solving that problem.

"I'm Silver Wing."

It was possible for 'Silver' to come first, according to Pinkie's guesses, so he went for something generic.

"Oh," said Pinky, deflating slightly. "I guess that makes sense." Then she perked up again. "What about Mr. Meany Pants? What's his full name?"

"His name is... Mystery Book. Ow."

"Mystery Book Ow?" Pinkie giggled. "That's a silly name."

"No, just Mystery Book," said Silver Wing, rubbing the place where he'd been hit by a simple strike hex.

"Then why'd you say 'ow'?"

"Muscle cramp," lied Silver Wing.

"Okie-lokie-dokie!" said Pinky, and disappeared into the back of the bakery.

Silver Wing sighed. That had been a roller coaster of a conversation. But at least he hadn't made any mistakes. And if the looks of the nearby ponies were anything to go by, he'd even gained a little respect.

"You come from Cloudsdale, little fella?" asked a nearby pony. "Come to see our famous Summer Sun Celebration?"

Sure, why not, thought Silver Wing. "Yes."

"Where are your parents?"

"I don't have any."

Many nearby ponies gasped.

It both was and wasn't a lie. His parents were back on the other side of the mirror. His other parents were dead. But in this world, for all intents and purposes he didn't have any parents.

"Then who takes care of you?" asked a female pony in a sympathetic voice.

"Mystery Book looks after me."

"And where's this 'Mystery Book,' then?" tutted a much older-looking female pony. "Awfully irresponsible, letting a colt roam around alone. 'Specially this late in the evening."

"He's nearby," said Silver with a shrug. "He wants me to learn how to be independent. He's shy, but he's the furthest thing there is from irresponsible."

"Here you go!" said Pinkie Pie in a chipper voice, her face reappearing right in front of Silver's. "Two cupcakes!" She leaned in and whispered, "One with crickets," then snapped back to her old position like a rubber band. "The Summer Sun Celebration is tomorrow morning, and the entire town will be partying ALL NIGHT, and ANYPONY can join! But my twitchy tail is telling me to save your Welcome to Ponyville Party until later. It's also telling me to tell you and Mr. Meany Pants to go to the library. I don't know why the party can't be right away and I'm really sorry it isn't today!" She offered another two cupcakes. "Here! Two apology cupcakes!"

"Um," Mr. Silver paused, wondering how to accept them. His mind generated a few ideas and he chose the best one. He extended his wings and held them flat like the gliding stance, turning them into temporary trays. "Here."

"Okie-lokie-dokie!" said Pinky, placing the four cupcakes on his wings.

"There are tables outside, right?"

"Yupperino!" She waved enthusiastically as he left. "Have fun on Summer Sun!"

---

"'Mystery' Book?" said the thestral in a displeased voice, emerging from the shadow of the bakery. "Really, Furry Gardner? You may as well have used our last name outright."

"It was all I could think of on short notice," Silver Wing said defensively. "Nobody here will know what its meant to obscure. If you wanted something more obscure, you should have said so before I was put on the spot."

"I was unfamiliar with the naming conventions," said Mystery Book, still in that displeased voice. "Though I suppose I could have composed a few potential names in advance, for you to pick and choose depending on what constituted a sensible name in case you were forced to improvise. Nothing for it now. At least you did not say 'Riddle'." The thestral looked at the cupcakes, still wearing that frown. "Who gets which?"

"Yours have insects in them." Silver shrugged. "Bat ponies like bugs, apparently."

"Bat ponies?" repeated not-Riddle in ridicule, then muttered an incantation over the cupcakes.

"That's what Pinky called your race," Silver shrugged again, accepting the two that were pushed in his direction by an unseen hand. "Probably not the actual name. Hopefully we can look it up. Oh, by the way, the short-term seer told me that we should go to the library."

After that, the two ponies ate in silence, warded by a notice-me-not charm.

The cupcakes were surprisingly filling.

Comments

[Kashekim]

I got through about thirty chapters of HPMoR. It was interesting, and seeing quotes from the end of Year 1 does put a lot of it into perspective, but it just seemed a little too over the top. This one seems better, though I suppose it took me thirty chapters to declare the other one dead, so let's keep trying and seeing what the outcome will be.

[keybounce]

10771145
HP:MoR was a pretty positive story all the way to the Azkaban prison.

It was good after the prison, in fairness.

But ... the prison was so dark, it took me a while to get through it. I missed the final exam because of it.

(My solution was a failure -- I confused neutrons with a shell of solid neutrons. If it was possible to actually stack them as tight as I thought, I'd have a neutron star and/or a black hole.)

===

It's interesting to see a different take on S1 E1, as well as realizing how many ponies seem able to see through invisibility. You'd think that maybe being a grounded earth pony makes a pony able to sense when something isn't behaving normally.

[Fireeaters]

"You won't like it," sighed Mr. Silver. "We'd have to interact with the local populac, but we're probably going to have to do that anyway. That pink pony did say she would throw us a party, and there's usually free food at parties. And this way, we can get a better understanding of the local culture."

You forgot a 'e', I think.

[The Guy Who Writes]

11437418
👍

[Poparakelis]

Eat bugs, sure

[Black--Soul]

Voldemort and Potter as a team? That new... guess needs must meet. Very interesting situation indeed.