> Harry Potter and the Crystal Empire — Intermission
>  by Damaged
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> The Hivers
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Like everyone else, I'd been dragged through the damn portal when it pulsed—moments before it closed. It wouldn't be so bad except for the bugs. Well, bugs was an understatement. Bug implies small, but these things are about the size of a dog, they suck your will to live out at a distance, and if they bite you, you can't move a muscle. 

Looking around the cave, I clung to my hockey stick tightly. It was always dark down here, but at least I knew what time it was and could see.

"Did you see that, Rod?" Daphne asked from beside me. 

Nodding very slowly, I said "Yes" as softly as I could. "I'll bait."

"You sure?" Though she asked, Daphne was already standing up and yawning. She turned and started walking off. "I need a piss. I'll be back in a tick."

I waited for her to go and then made the softest snoring noise I could. They had amazing hearing.

It didn't take them long. Two of them crawled into the light of our fire on their bellies, their blue eyes locked on me. They got closer and closer, twenty feet away, then ten feet, then five. One reached out with its head—jaws opening to reveal their long teeth—when the dull tink of a stone hitting an aluminum baseball bat cut through the air.

The stone hit the first one in the shoulder. A second metal-on-rock sound and another stone came winging in to connect with the head of that first bug.

I jumped to my feet as the second one grabbed the first and tried to drag it off. Daphne passed me at a dead run, swinging her bat down at the bug to get it to leave. My focus was on the downed one. I pulled my rope from the loop on my belt and threaded it through the bug's legs and tied them in a knot just as it started to squirm. 

Twisting the rope around my left fist a few times to get a good grip on it, I brought my hockey stick down and held it against the bug's neck. "I don't know if hitting you here will hurt, but if you don't stop squirming we'll both find out. And don't even think of using your mojo."

Their big blue eye looked up at me, and I'll be damned if I didn't see fear in it. Stop that, Rodney, there's no good down that path. 

"Okay, Rod, I think the other one buzzed off." Daphne loved her fucking puns. The thing was, the bugs did buzz. "You gonna drag it back or will we—I don't know—carry it?"

"I don't want to be anywhere near those fangs. Hey, bug, will it hurt you if we drag you?" The last I said to the bug. When it hissed in reply, I just shrugged. "Okay, Daph, you take one end of this rope and walk behind it, I'll take the other and walk in front. Tie the rope around your wrist."

"Do you think anyone else has caught one like this?" she asked.

I was getting the rope tied around my own wrist and shook my head. "No one has come back with one yet. Hopefully we're the first." 

The march wasn't far. It was down a few tunnels and through a few of those oddly timed caves that opened and closed on their own, and then we saw the fire. The light of it washing over us felt like heaven. "Hey, we got one."

"You what? One of the bugs? Good work!" The guys who were watching the cave entrance were something else. It was only five days ago I'd learned that not only was magic real, but that magic portals could suck people into it, there were wizards who lived secretly among us, and they thought less of everyone who wasn't a wizard. They'd stopped doing that last one lately.

I pointed back to Daphne. "I only played possum and tied 'em up once Daph conked 'em with a rock. They're awake." Untying the rope from my wrist, I looked around to see Daphne doing the same. "You were great, Daph."

"You no-majes are pretty good at—"

A second wizard—err witch is the female term, I think—elbowed the talking one in the ribs. "Shut it, Kennedy. They're stuck here just like us. You don't have to bring that idiocy into this place." She turned back to us. "You did great. I got your friend's name, but you're…" 

"That's Rodney. Best sack of Canadian meat you'll find when you're hunting bugs." Daphne tapped my shoulder lightly with her bat while the witch leaned down to inspect the bug. 

That's when I realized she had a tail. That was something I was coming to terms with. The wizards and witches were all turning into horses. Horses that could do magic and were only a little bigger than the bugs, but horses. It was a strange time to be a furry. "Uh, you didn't tell me your name."

She looked up from the bug. "Azalea. Azalea Bloom." When she looked back down at the bug, she reached out one foot in true human fashion and nudged the thing with her shoe. "It's not moving, is it—"

"I'm not dead." The bug opened its eyes and turned its head slightly. "What do you want?"

I looked at Azalea and she looked back at me in surprise. Well, I figure I might as well start. "You guys to stop attacking us and bring back the people you took."

The bug let out what I had to assume was its version of a laugh—there was a lot of hissing involved. "Firstly, they're ours now. We don't give back food. Secondly, you'll all be our food soon. Thirdly, what makes you think I can do any of that? I'm just a drone."

"Food?" I felt my bile rise and I didn't need to see Azalea's face as she turned away to know she'd turned green. "You eat us…?"

"What? No! We eat your love. Even now I can smell it on you and just—" The bug hissed, its long tongue making an appearance. "Put creatures in pods. Seal up tight. Fill their heads with dreams and eat what comes out."

"So magic?"

The bug just shrugged.

"So what's stopping you—collectively—letting them out?" I crouched down beside the bug, still wary of its fangs, but far more relaxed there were others around us.

"We need to eat. No love, no changelings." The bug shrugged its shoulders as best it could.

Their tone might have been without what I'd call emotion, but I could put things together. "You're starving, you mean?" The twitch in its eye told me I'd hit my mark. Crap. Not only weren't they just mindless bugs, but they were smart, sentient, and starving. Starving, with us as their food source. "Which means that if we keep you here, we're gonna have to feed you."

I lifted my head to look at Azalea, only to feel movement through the rope. The sting in my leg came before I even realized what the movement was. I'd always heard that venom in your blood felt hot, but this was a chilling cold that immediately numbed the pain of its bite. 

The ice in my veins poured up my leg, stealing sensation as it went, then dove into my torso like a frigid spear. When it got to my chest, there was a soft whooshing sound and it poured up into my head. Everything felt hazy. I fell into a crouch beside the bug and started reaching my arms out toward it.

"Get it away from him!" Azalea's words, shouted so loud, managed to get my attention off the cute bug.

Looking up at her, I felt a bubbly excitement start in my belly. I couldn't stop from giggling. "I love you."

"Get it away from everyone and lock it up somewhere. I'll get your friend away so he can't hurt himself." Azalea reached down to me and pulled me upright. Without even a thought—literally—I put my arm around her shoulder. "Come on. Wherever they're taking that thing, I'll take you the other way."

The truth was I'd follow her anywhere she wanted to take me. As we walked, I felt the brush of her tail against my legs again and again. "You're pretty. Can I kiss you?" 

"Thanks, but I'd like to find out what that bug just did to you." 

I mean, she hadn't said no. I tried to lean closer to kiss her, but having to keep walking made it hard. In the end I filed away I can kiss her as a good idea for when we weren't moving. "What—what it did to me? Does to me? Doot to meeee…"

"You seem drunk, but maybe something else in there." She led me all the way to the pickup truck that had been pulled through the portal with us. Helping me up, she had me sit on the bed and lay down. "Now I really hate to use magic here, but if that stuff is going to kill you, I'd like to know."

"Your tail's cute," I said as she drew her wand.

She froze, a soft glow illuminating her wand, and looked down at me. "You are a very strange person, Rodney. Especially for a non-wizard." She muttered some words I couldn't understand, then aimed her wand at my leg.

Magic was pretty much exactly what I thought it would be. Huge flashy effects swirled from her wand and wrapped around my leg. It felt tingly and sparkly. Wait. That was my leg that was sparkly. "That's cool!"

"That wasn't exactly supposed to happen." The way she said it made her sound a strange mix of utterly sure of herself but also a little worried. 

I looked at where she was looking and saw my leg seemed to be made out of some kind of hard, dark plastic. "What do you mean, cutie?"

"Your leg changed—the skin is turning dark. Do you know if any of your parents or grandparents were wizards or witches?" She looked up at me and her eyes seemed to sparkle with the magic she used. 

"I have no idea. Your eyes are amazing." They were both green, but her left one was a little more intense than the right. This was my chance—I had to go for it. "But there's something else that's really interesting."

She looked surprised, then reached a hand up to her own face. "What? Did my face change?"

"Y-Yeah. There was something about your eyelids. Close your eyes for a second." Surely she wouldn't fall for this. It was the oldest trick in the book and she was apparently falling for it. When she closed her eyes I made a "hmmm" sound, then leaned up and kissed her.

Okay, so I was a bit out of practice. Her eyes snapped open, and I saw a moment of fire flare in them, but I had a good three seconds before she jerked back and lifted her hand. Okay, so I probably deserved the slap that was coming. Whatever the bug had done was wearing off, and I could see that bad decisions had been made while I was… What was I? It was like being drunk, but I'd felt so attracted to—to the bug first, but then Azalea had my attention and it was like she was—was everything. 

"I should slap you."

"Yeah you should. I have no idea what that bug did, but I could swear it was like dropping an E." I shook my head to try to clear the lingering effects, though it didn't help. "A lot faster to come on, about a hundred times more intense, and no side eff… Wait, I still feel really thirsty."

"What's an E?" Azalea asked.

I stared at her for several seconds, the lingering emotional high hanging around a little. "A party drug. First tried it a few years back. Kinda fun, leaves you really emotional and in love with the world. This was way more focused. When you got my attention away from the bug, it was like I locked onto you with it. Sorry about the kiss."

"The bug said they feed on love. Their bite makes you love them. It's obviously how they trap prey and lure them off without noise." Sitting back, Azalea tapped her chin thoughtfully. That's when I saw her arm. A soft green crystal, kinda like my leg, was all the way to her wrists. It was a little freaky because it was translucent. "The kiss doesn't need an apology."

That got my full attention. "It was good?"

"It wasn't bad. I just wasn't ready for it." She wasn't acting like I was the most horrible bastard in the world—usually a good sign. "You know wizardkind age slower than no-ma—" She bit back the word. "…than other humans?"

"No-maj seems like a pretty good description. It means no magic, right?" Her blush told me plenty—that it was used derogatorily. Her nod told me I was right. "Well, I don't have any magic, so it's right. As for age, I have no idea. You're cute, and I—"

"I'm almost forty, Rod."

Forty? Shit, she didn't look anything past twenty-five. My lip quirked into a bit of a smile, though, at her shortening of my name. "Can I finish?"

She narrowed her eyes as if preparing for something nasty.

"You're cute, and I don't care how old you are." I nodded to reinforce that fact as the pure truth I tried to force myself to believe. Forty?! "Besides, I don't want to say, 'I kissed a forty-year-old witch when she wasn't looking.' Saying you're cute makes the story much better."

"'Story'?"

I couldn't help but giggle—how long would this poison last, and how could I get some more safely? "Yup, even cute when you're angry." 

It worked! Calling her cute seemed to be a get-out-of-jail-free card. It was a stunning blow every time I'd used it and I was totally filing this information away for later use. Later repeated use. I cleared my throat. "So, about my leg. What's up with that?"

"Magic here is—different. There's a lot more of it and it seems to infect the user and turn them into… You've seen already. You're the first regular human it has affected in any way. I don't know how and I don't know why, but I think it has something to do with that venom combined with my magic." She bit her lip and looked at my leg again. "It's also spreading."

Okay. So being a furry had never included the idea of turning into something. I gulped and sat up more to look down at my leg. It looked the same. "Are you sure?"

"The dark shade had stopped at your knee before. Now it's a finger-width above it. Not much, but it is spreading." Azalea carefully put her wand away and then leaned down to look at my leg closer. "I can actually see your pores darkening one by one."

Sitting up fully, I leaned forward and tried to see—just as she turned her head toward me. Our heads connected, but not painfully. This time the kiss was startling for both of us. She stared into my eyes with surprise in hers, I just raised a single eyebrow in challenge. Alright, she'd started this one and she knew how I felt, where was she going to take it?

The kiss was… inexperienced would be an understatement. She kissed a little better than a wet fish when she was actually trying—which she was. I tried not to giggle but it became too much and I had to break it and actually laugh.

"What?!"

I was right the first time—she was cute when she was angry. "You. How many guys have you kissed?"

Her pale cheeks turned red with her blush and her eyes widened further. Okay, she was cute when embarrassed too. "That's none of your—"

"Look. Just relax. Don't focus on trying to push or rub or anything. Just think of my lips as a strawberry. No teeth, just try to feel your way around the strawberry. Now, let's try that again." I reached out and pulled her toward me.

This time, with my arms around her, Azalea seemed to relax more and just kiss. I'll give her marks for relaxing and not trying to suck my tongue out through my mouth, but she was now a little too passive. 

Well, there was a solution for this that I'd learned from a cute girl who only ever spoke French. A little push from my tongue and I heard a groan from her, and then she came alive. 

"Now here I come to check up on my Canadian buddy and finding him making out with a witch?" Daphne's voice startled both of us, but it was Azalea who pulled out of the kiss. "Oh no, don't let me stop you. Just put a sock on the handle or something next time, why-don't-ya?"

"But we weren't—" Azalea's voice cut short. When I looked why, it was because Daphne was walking away.

I reached a hand out and ran my finger and thumb along her jaw to her chin. "That was much better. I think this practice went well."

"Practice?" Turning back toward me, Azalea looked confused. "But it wasn't—"

"If you think I'm not going to kiss you again, you just wait and see. Now, what do we do about my leg?" I asked.





I didn't get another chance immediately. Talking about my leg again had led to her wanting to examine it more, which led to her telling the other wizards and witches about it, which led to them wanting to inspect it. 

When one wizard lifted his wand, however, I had had enough. "No. Hold up. It was magic that started this. Adding more could do who-knows-what to me."

"How dare you speak to—" The wizard, the one I remembered as Kennedy, was glaring at me and raising his wand, but was interrupted by two others who grabbed his wand-arm and then shoved him away from me. "What are you doing? He's just a—"

I hadn't expected Azalea to slap him. Honestly, I didn't really think no-maj was that much of a slur, but she apparently had opinions. "Kennedy, in case you hadn't noticed, Rod is the reason we have one of the bugs caught at all. These people are putting their lives on the line to help, and you threaten them?" She had her wand out and with the way Kennedy looked at it, it might as well have been a pistol aimed at him. "You are the worst kind of wizard."

"You know, if either of you two start blasting, you'll turn into little horses, right?" I asked.

Azalea and Kennedy both turned to look at me.

"Well, it's true. I have nothing against little horses, but I think you should put your big-boy pants on and face the fact that you need to save your magic for when you might actually need it." I shoved myself off the bed of the truck and stood up—aware of how much different my left leg felt—and started walking off toward the other side of camp.

No one seemed to follow me, not that I cared. I reached the makeshift cage the bug was in and kicked it to wake them up. "Hey! What'd you do to me?"

The bug opened just one eye and looked up at me.

I got angry. I kicked the cage again. "I'm talking to you. What'd you do—?"

"You smell like food." Its words froze me. "My venom was nice, yes? Hold your leg there and I'll bite you again."

The bug was slow about standing up, moving like a cat that knew it had a big fish in its food bowl. It turned slowly and stretched, then walked closer to where I stood. 

It took me far too long to fight down the desire to let it bite my leg again and pull my leg from the side of the cage. "No. I don't think I will."

"Are you sure? Remember how it made you feel? Just lean a little closer and I'll only bite you a little. Just a itsy-bitsy taste of what it felt like to fall unconditionally in love." I hated how damn good they made it sound.

Every fiber of my being wanted to ride that drug again. I wanted to let it bite me, poison me, and it was only having dealt with drugs in my life before that I could say, "No." I closed my eyes, firmly shoving away all the feelings that led to me wanting what the bug was offering.

A flash of green light hit my closed eyes and I snapped them open. "Azalea? Why are you in—Where'd the bug go?"

"It's in front of you, Rod. Step back from the cage," Azalea's voice said from behind me.

Azalea's voice surprised me, and I spun around, but in the process the Azalea in the cage grabbed my arm and pulled me backward against it. I could feel her soft breasts against my back and her breath on the back of my neck.

"Open the cage and let me free, or I pump him with so much of my venom he won't be able to think straight for the rest of his short life." The breath against my neck changed to the brush of fangs—long fangs. 

"W-Wait. Please. Just give me a chance to think. Okay, so you're like some kind of shapechanger, right?" I asked, trying to ignore the lick against my bare neck. "O-Okay, and you want love, right?"

"I like where this is going. If you help me slip more of my hive-mates into your little group here, you and your friend can walk out of the hive safely." The bug's voice was so close to Azalea's, but now there was a slight hiss to it. "This plan gets you free—completely free—and I can even promise that you can both leave the hive without anyling harming you."

"What's it saying to you?" the real Azalea asked. "Bug, I don't care what deal he makes, I'll kill you the moment the door of that cage opens."

I squeezed my eyes closed. "Please stop trying to help."

"Do we have a deal?" the bug asked, and ran its fangs along my neck again.

I only had a moment to see a red flash reflect in Azalea's eyes before the bug's grip went limp. Azalea grabbed me (the real Azalea) and pulled me away from the bars of the cage. Both of us looked first at the bug—its form once more its own—and then we looked to who'd cast the spell. 

"Kennedy?" I asked.

"You were right." Kennedy slid his wand away into his robes. "It's not easy for me to say this, but you were absolutely right. I've been a wizard too long and forgotten my roots." He walked over and held out his hand.

Well, there was my stereotypical nature shining through—I shoved out my hand and took his to shake it. "For what it matters, at least your magic found out something far more interesting than what's going on with my leg." I nodded toward the cage. "That is something I don't think any of us saw coming."

"Why'd you come over here?" Azalea's hand found mine and for all we weren't trying to advertise we were an item, I wouldn't have let go for anything. 

"Well, I mean, it's obvious. Can the bug move?" I asked. When Kennedy shook his head, I reached into the cage and tapped on its leg. The sound wasn't hollow, but there was a hardness to the flesh beyond skin. Then I tapped on my leg. It made the same sound. "Whatever normally its poison does, and I don't think it knew what was happening to me, with your magic I think I'm…" I didn't want to finish it, but I could see in Azalea's face that she knew what I was getting at.

"Shit." Azalea looked down her arm at where we were holding hands. "And it's still spreading?"

"Yeah. Near as I can tell it doesn't seem to be slowing. So am I going to turn into one of them?" I couldn't help shaking. It was one thing to make jokes with Azalea about her turning into a horse, especially with the coat she seemed to be getting, and quite another for me to become a horse-monster.

"If it's anything like Howlover's changes, you're going to end up looking exactly like them." As she said it, Azalea wrapped her arms around me. 

"What's up?" I asked her. Shouldn't it be me freaking out?

"The first nice guy who's also cute, and you're not going to be human much longer. It's not fair." She squeezed me, and I put my arms around her.

Kissing the top of her head, I tried to think what to say. She was twice my age and—Oh! "Well, we'll be little horses together, then. At least until you lot figure out how to fix all this."

"He's right." Kennedy's words surprised both of us enough to turn our heads to look at him. "We'll figure this out and get home and get everyone back to normal. I promise you that." He picked that as his parting comment and marched off to leave us alone.

"Well, if he thinks I'm right, then I'm right. Who knows, maybe I can infiltrate the bugs and get us a way out of this hole?" I looked down at Azalea, only to see her eyes rolling up into her head as she slumped weakly in my arms. "What—?" I turned my head and saw the bug staring at us, its mouth open wide as something—something pink—seemed to coalesce and pour into its throat. 

"You bastard!" My shout broke Azalea from her stupor enough to stand on her own, which is when I stepped back to that cage with my fist balled and slung my best punch at the bug.

The creature stepped back from the bars and looked at me. "I heard you're going to be joining the hive. Our queen has ways of ensuring every changeling's loyalty." Licking its lips with its obscenely long tongue, the bug grinned. "And I got a free meal. Thank you." I have to give it credit, the bastard knew how to use sarcasm.

I tried to grab at it, but the bug didn't even bother to try to bite me. It just sat at the back of its cage looking smug. "Come here and let me—"

"Rod?" Azalea's voice sounded fragile. I turned and looked at her, seeing she'd sat down on the ground where I'd left her. 

Well, I might be turning into a monster, and I might want to kill the damn bug, but I was still man enough to know when it was time to be a knight in shining armor. Walking over to Azalea, I scooped her up in my arms—robes and all—and carried her off to where her makeshift bed was.





A full day passed while we did nothing but reinforce our position. The problem of our food supply (which amounted to a hotdog cart full of bread, dogs, and condiments and half the contents of a Chinese restaurant) was partially solved by Howlover, the first horse-wizard. Clutching her wand in her teeth, she'd been able to stop the food we had from going off and could duplicate it.

Hotdogs with fried noodles wasn't exactly the greatest meal, but it was one we were getting used to, and it had plenty of energy if nothing else. When I asked why they couldn't just keep duplicating it forever, Azalea had bopped me on the shoulder and given me a half-hour talk about why that doesn't work.

My leg was getting stranger. From my thigh down was black, hard chitin that only gave way to softer flesh around my knee joint and the odd, backward-facing joint further down from that. I'd given up on shoes for that foot, since the hoof it now ended in was fine enough for walking on. 

Just one and a bit days, and my leg was done completely and I was looking at the black creeping over my ass and hip. At least Azalea would be joining me in little-horsedom. Her arms had both turned that amazing translucent green all the way from her fingertips to her shoulders. At least, I think it was only as far as her shoulders—we had been cuddling whenever someone wasn't looking, but undressing was a bit further down the road yet. It was one thing to share warmth in a cold cave and another to break all decency.

"Azalea, Rod?" Kennedy's voice surprised me. I had Azalea sitting between my legs while I massaged her shoulders through her robes—it had been my latest-greatest idea for getting her to take her robes off, but it hadn't worked. "Sorry to intrude, but you're the only two I trust."

That got my attention. Kennedy was pretty tight with the other wizards and witches, or so I'd seen. "What's the matter, eh?" Ugh. How did that slip out? I hadn't ehed in years.

"That creature, the bug." Kennedy seemed like he didn't want to look at us directly, gazing everywhere but at where we sat. "It could mimic Azalea perfectly."

"I like to think," Azalea said, "that it was doing a pretty bad job of it, but go on."

"What if some of them have already caught people. Rod, when you and your friend were out and caught the bug, did you see her with your eyes every second you were out hunting? How would you know if one of them replaced her while its friends dragged her off?" His words chilled me and completely soured my mood. What if… Dammit.

"Then we're in a lot of trouble. Your Stupifying charm knocked it out and broke its—its disguise. Right?" Azalea rocked her shoulders in my grip as if prodding me to continue. 

Well, if she wanted a massage, and was distracted, now was my best chance… Working my hands up and along the curve of her neck, I brought them back down under her collar and gently eased the neck of the robes a little wider and started work on her shoulders again. "Don't mind me, I have no clue how your magic works."

"For someone with no clue, you beat any of us to catching one, and you understood how Gramp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration and the rules it inspired stop us from just creating food."

"No," I said, "I just nodded a lot while you told me what amounts to no, we can't make food out of nothing."

Under my hands, her skin was that same green color as it was on her arms. How many spells had she been casting?

"Can we really cast a stunner at everyone here in case they're a bug in disguise?" Kennedy asked, blushing and still looking anywhere but at us.

"Not really. Howlover is already overworked keeping us in food. I had to cast some spells earlier to get us enough water to boil the hotdogs she created, then more to actually boil the water." She looked back over her shoulder at me with one eye, then dipped her face down a little. She had been hiding the spread, then.

"Besides," I said. "Put yourselves in a bug's shoes. If you saw us going around and stunning people one by one, that'd be the tip-off, wouldn't it?"

Kennedy snorted. "You might not know how magic works, Rod, but you know how to think. I hadn't even gotten that angle, and you're right. So what's another way we can unmask them? Would they know what their cover knows? Would there be some kind of magic involved?"

"Well, there's one way to find out," I said. "I hate it, and if it were for any other reason I'd be running the other way as fast as I could, but if we give the bug something, it might tell us."

"No. That's not something I want." Kennedy's tone was sharp and firm. It surprised me, given his previous thoughts on me. "I might have been an idiot before and not seen things correctly, but I can't let that happen again. If anyone will give that beast food, it will be me."

Together, we walked to where its cage was and the occupant of it. "Hey. We need some answers and you need food, right?" Kennedy asked.

Opening its glowing eyes, the bug made a soft hissing sound. "I don't need food that badly." Turning its head, it looked at me—probably even through me.

"What if I gave the food?" I asked.

"What do you need to know?" The way the bug talked was odd. It wasn't using its tongue—at least I figured it wasn't because of its length—and its lips barely moved. 

Azalea's hand on my shoulder tightened, but I couldn't expect anyone here to give their all unless I would too. "How many of you have infiltrated our group? When you transform, do you get any information about the creature you become?"

The bug's face split into a big smile. It looked up at me and then slowly unfolded its body and stood. "For a taste of your love, I'll answer the second one, but that means biting." Its eyes were glowing a little brighter as it stared at me. "I won't be gentle."

Its previous bite seemed to itch, and I felt the drug it'd put into me sing out for more of the same. "Both questions, or you get nothing." I held its look, trying to not show it how I actually felt.

"Very well. But first, indulge me in one thing." The bug leaned forward so its nose was at the edge of its cage. "Tell me how much you enjoy my venom."

When I started laughing, Azalea grabbed my shoulder a bit tighter and pulled me back. "Rod?"

"I don't enjoy your bloody venom at all you stupid bug. It's addictive as all hell, that I can tell, but enjoy it? Piss off." I crouched down at the cage and looked the bug in its eyes. "You think this is the first time I've put something addictive in my body? You're just another pusher who thinks he's got something you desperately need—but it's only something you want. Now, tell me the answers."

The bug was barely a few inches from me. If it really wanted, it could probably make a grab for it. "Second one now, then the first after you let me bite." Did it sound petulant? Had I gotten under its skin? Well, good.

"Go ahead. If you try to double-cross me on this, I'm gonna have the nice wizard there go to town on you. Got it?" It was the best threat I could come up with under the circumstances. The bug knew that Kennedy was able to use magic, so why not use him as a threat?

"We changelings use a little bit of magic to get a reading on something before we turn into it. We don't get any special knowledge or anything like that. At least, I don't." The bug leaned forward and flicked its tongue out at my fingers. "Now feed me."

I turned back to Azalea and let out a sigh. "A deal's a deal." 

She, in turn, surprised me by wrapping her arms around me and kissing me. She was getting better, it seemed, though it might have been raw enthusiasm. She leaned back and blinked a few times, then blushed.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're gorgeous when you blush?" I asked, which only made her blush more. "I'm sure I'll be all gooey and silly after this. You have my permission to slap me if I get carried away."

"Assuming I want to slap you. Go on, just don't be a martyr." She let me go slowly, as if unwilling to.

Turning back to the bug, it looked excited. I crouched down and then sat before its cage. "Do my other damn leg. It sucks these things aren't symmetrical."

"That wasn't part of the deal." It moved fast, lunging forward and grabbing my arm—sinking its fangs in until it closed its mouth around me. 

I looked down at the thing, its eyes rolling up to meet mine. Their eyes were strange, almost-but-not-quite uniform. Beautiful. The venom was pumping through my body, and the bug was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen in my life. I reached my other arm out and huddled forward, rubbing behind one of its ears.

Slowly, very slowly, it opened its mouth and levered its fangs out of my flesh. The wound didn't hurt nearly as much as it should. Was it like with mosquitoes? Didn't they have saliva that numbed the bite?

It opened its mouth and all the adoration and love I held in my heart started to be sucked out. It leaned closer, it's gaping throat near my chest as it drank the happiness and wonder in the world away—but I couldn't stop loving it. A moment later, or so it seemed, the world started getting fuzzy and I started to fall sideways.

The bug drew back from me while I struggled to keep myself conscious. "Delicious. You creatures are more tasty even than ponies. I cannot wait until we capture you all."

Even the revulsion I felt at the idea of becoming bugfood wasn't enough to stop the happy vibes from flowing. I reached out a hand toward the bug, only to have Azalea take hold of my wrist and start to pull me away.

The bug's laughter froze my soul. "Silly creature. Even now—even almost passing out—you still want to feed me more. If you come close again, I'll bite your other leg for you." 

"Shh, don't reply, Rod. Come on and we can kiss again." Azalea's voice stole my attention away from the bug and I looked into her beautiful green eyes. 

"Hey, bug, why don't you answer the question now?" Kennedy's voice seemed a long way away as Azalea helped me to my feet again and let me rest on her shoulder. 

"I love you, Azalea Bloom." I tried to whisper the words into her ear, but even to my ears it came out as a half-drunk slur. Then, when I leaned close to nibble her earlobe, I accidentally knocked my head against hers. "S-Sorry."

"No, the poison's making you love me."

"Ish not."

Her giggling died a moment later as she heaved me onto my bedroll. "Was that true what you said about drugs and pushers?" Stepping behind me, she sat down so her legs were each side of my body.

Leaning back, I felt the softness of her body under her robes support me. With my attention turning to the new topic, I sighed. "Yeah."

Her hands found my shoulders, pushing me forward a little, and then she started to slowly massage me. If I wasn't already bitten by the love-bug, I'd be melting at her feet in bliss. "If we didn't have this crazy magic I could—That is I still could, but it would—"

"I beat molly, I can get past this. The massage helps." Reaching down beside me, my hands felt her legs and I stroked back—under her robes—to find her thighs. "And the little bastard bit my arm. Now I'll be all lop-sided."

When her lips brushed my ear, I just about jumped. A shiver ran down my spine and I leaned back against her again. "I don't care if you're lop-sided. No more dealing with that damn bug, okay? We can get out of this without its help."

"I'm scared, Azalea."

"Shh. I'll take care of you tonight. Just relax."





Falling asleep in a beautiful witch's arms, wrapped in her warmth and with her promise to look out for me—how else could my dream start but relaxed and cozy. I turned in Azalea's arms and leaned in and kissed her.

The dream was turning even better. Somehow her robes turned into a slim nightgown and for the first time since meeting her, I saw—I saw—

"You want another bite. Admit it."

My blood ran cold as Azalea's face melted into that of a bug and she lunged at me—mouth opening unnaturally wide as she closed it on my collarbone and—

"Stop." The voice, not Azalea's and not the bug's, shook the very dream around me. For a moment it felt like I'd wake up, but cobalt light flared everywhere and gripped me tight. "Begone, nightmare. This creature's dreams are not fit for you."

The Azalea/bug was gone and I watched as a blue unicorn stepped into view. She radiated power unlike anything I'd felt—which was a steadily growing group now that I knew about magic. "Who are you?"

"My name is Luna, and I'm here to help." Her voice was so rich and warm that I could have just melted into it alone. As she spoke, however, Luna flared a pair of wings on her back impressively. "You know of the changelings?"

The word rang a bell. "The bugs? Yeah. Something happened in our world and it sucked a bunch of us through a portal, or so a friend called it. It closed off just as quick as it opened, and now we're stuck in a cave in what bug called its hive." 

"I feared as much. My sister has organized a rescue, but we will never be able to get into the hive itself. If you can get out, we can escort you back to safety." The way Luna spoke made it sound like she was in charge or something. Or partially. She did say her sister.

"I'll let the others know. Is there anything you can tell us about these changelings? One bit me, and when a friend used—"

"Do not let them bite you a second time. The effects of their poisons increase with application in both strength and duration." She paused, and I realized I must have had that look on my face. "How many times have they bitten you?"

"Just twice."

Luna looked furious. Dark black shadows shivered around the edge of her as she trembled with fury. "I will come there myself to fetch you. Do not let them bite you or anyone else again. If you can get free, do so."

The dream seemed to snap, breaking apart as a rush of black bodies drove Luna out of my head and jerked me from sleep.





Jolting awake, I felt a finger curling through the hair on my head and combing it with its siblings. "A-Azalea?"

"I don't think Kennedy would be doing this. Did you rest well, Rod?" Her voice was soft and caring with an edge of worry.

"I dreamed about a horse—no, a blue unicorn with wings. She seemed to be so real. She said—said I might be in trouble for getting bitten twice." I tried to shift around to face her, but Azalea's arms were too insistent and I couldn't muster enough willpower to slip free. "I don't think it was just a dream."

"Nothing in this world is just anything. The bug told Kennedy that no one has been replaced yet. He said it was strange but it seemed far more content to talk after feeding off you again, and that it even told him about recent skirmishes with the nation of—get this—Equestria. It's ruled by…" When Azalea trailed off, I wondered if she was going to continue. "Two ponies with horns and wings, one white and one dark blue."

"She—Luna—said her sister was organizing a rescue force. That must be the white one." The more I spoke, the clearer my thoughts became. I tried to move again but caught sight of my arm. 

Midway to my shoulder my skin was black and it didn't stop all the way to my fingers. I reached a finger of my left hand over and tapped the dark skin—it was hard, too. "How much longer before I end up needing to eat love, too?"

"We'll worry about that bridge when we come to it. Apart from this"—she gestured at my arm and leg—"how do you feel?"

"Like it pulled something out of me. It's kinda easier to deal with this though. Its bite makes me—It's like E times a hundred. I looked at the bug and was instantly in love with it. Like, head-over-heels. But then it took that away." Turning against her, I wrapped my arms around Azalea and clung to her.

Azalea's arms slid around my back and held me. What little of the bug's poison was still in me wasn't needed for me to love her. Okay, so it might have started more as lust mixed with magic venom, but I really liked her. "You aren't to get bitten by that thing again, do you hear me, Rod?" After a while of neither of us saying anything, she sighed. "Rod, you don't have to be the tough guy to take all the hits. You've already done a lot to help us, let us help you now."

"It's just that I feel like I need to be helping and active. I want to protect you." The last bit had slipped out in a rush.

"And you have, maybe too much. I'm a witch, Rod, let me use my power and protect you for a little bit." When she kissed me, I felt a surge in warmth both inside and out. Tilting my head a little let her deepen her angle and lean a little over me.

We were both right. I wanted to protect her, but thanks to my efforts I wasn't able to right now. I remembered back to her standing between me and whatever it had been Kennedy was going to do, and I found my lips curling against hers, forming a smile.

When she broke the kiss (because I certainly had no plans to), she let out a sigh. "I mean it, but at the same time I don't think we're getting out of here without a lot of work."

"Yeah. At the best I think we're going to have to meet Luna halfway. At first she didn't sound like they would be able to get to us, but she got angry and told me they'd try. So how do we fight them and get out? If we had some guns it'd be a lot easier." Much as I was loathe to admit it, the American ideal of a gun on every hip was sorely needed right now—so why didn't they have them?

"Much as I normally don't admire the second amendment, it would have been convenient to have someone with a rifle or two get pulled into this. That leaves us with just magic." Azalea held up her crystalline hands and sighed. "You know, it's about time I faced reality and got this over with. You need a witch who's confident with her casting, not someone who fears every spell's cost."

"What do you mean? Are you—?"

Azalea stood up slowly, kissing my cheek to distract me enough to let her go. When she drew her wand, I finally realized what she meant to do, but it was too late. Chanting words I could scarcely follow, she began to whip her wand around and made bright lights flicker around.

Every time she shouted a word and gestured with her wand, she changed more. The crystal pattern climbed up her neck and I watched her face push out into a muzzle while a pair of pointy ears topped her head. Then… she stopped changing. She slung spell after spell, grunting and cursing between words, but nothing else changed. What was most astounding of all was the horn that now protruded from just above her forehead. 

Unicorn.

Standing up, I walked over to her and reached for her wrist—the one holding her wand. "Hey, I think it's done with you. Calm down."

"But it's not done!"

"You seem done." Reaching up to her shoulders, I took a firm grip on her robes and pulled them down from her shoulders. This pulled her arms in against her side and stopped her casting. "Azalea Bloom, this is it."

She stared at me for a few moments, her big (bigger than they'd been) eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. Then she slowly adjusted her clothes to pull her robes up and free her arms more fully. "Why didn't I change fully?"

"Okay, so if we assume that you haven't changed fully, could it be bigger spells are needed? How many big spells did Howlover cast to get how she is?"

"N-None. It was lots of little stuff, sorta. Nothing bigger than what I just did. Ugh, this mouth is annoying to talk with—there's too much tongue in here." Azalea reached her free hand up to poke at her mouth. "I guess I look pretty weird now, right?"

"Okay, so there's something about me you should probably know." I reached my inky-black finger under her chin and tilted it up so I could look along her cute little snout and into her eyes.

"You're not serious?" Looking at me with a grin slowly growing on her face, Azalea looked about to break into laughter. "I'm all fuzzy now and I've got these—"

I didn't give her a chance, kissing her cute lips just once before breaking contact again. "I'll keep going until I've convinced you."

"Is that an incentive not to be convi—" 

I kissed her again and got her to smile a little.

"—nced. You don't mind this?" She leaned forward and kissed me this time, and there was no way in hell I would recoil or not give the kiss my full attention. Azalea, however, was quick to pull back. "You really are okay with this?"

I kissed her again, though she actually giggled mid-kiss this time. When I pulled back once more, I realized that this was definitely not going to get in the way. "Are we done, or will you need more kissing?"

"Definitely more, but that can wait. I need to talk to Kennedy and the others about—about this." Azalea gestured to herself for emphasis, though I could figure the extent of what she meant. 

"You want some support?"

She looked about to say something, paused, then smiled. "I've got this, but if you want to come, feel free."

I'd made my mind up to go with her, but I was still curious. "What were you going to say?"

"I was going to say it's not really the kind of stuff for non-wizardkind, but that's not how we have to think here. We have to work together, like I said, or we're going to get literally eaten." She held out her hand to me and I reached out to take it.

"Just make sure to use small words so I can follow along." 





We'd found the other wizards and witches discussing Kennedy's findings. Of the six that had wound up here, Howlover and Kennedy were the only two I knew apart from Azalea. Azalea's look earned immediate questions, to which she'd explained what had happened. She got another round of questions that, surprisingly, followed the same track I'd gone down.

"What about your horn? Did it do anything while you were casting?" Kennedy asked.

Azalea looked at me. "Horn?"

"Yeah, uh, I'd forgotten about that some time around when I was trying to calm down a witch." I tried to look far more innocent than I felt while she glared at me, then closed her eyes. "It looks good on you."

"I'll get back to that later. So far, all I know is, I can cast magic with my wand without repercussion. Right now, apart from Howlover and myself, all of you are hoarding every spell. I did this because, as a witch, I couldn't live like that." She sounded like she'd given up on the horn thing, but I knew well enough that we'd be talking about it in private. "But there's more you're going to want to hear. Rod had a strange dream."

I expected them all to scoff and roll their eyes, but the five of them looked at me with curious anticipation. "After I let the bug bite me so Kennedy could get some info out of it, I passed out and dreamt of a pony. She was dark blue with wings and a horn"—I nodded toward Azalea—"and she seemed able to make the dream like one of… what do they call it?"

"A lucid dream?" a witch asked. "Sorry, I don't think we've been introduced. My name is Stefanie Wandwave."

"Thanks, Stefanie." I said. "It was exactly that. While she was there, we both talked and thought clearly and she explained a few things to me. First is that she and her sister have an army marching for us to help. Second, at least at first, she said they wouldn't be able to enter the hive, but when I explained what was happening, she said she'd try. Her name was Luna."

"Could we apparate everyone out? One by one?" the youngest of the wizards asked. He looked to be no more than about sixteen at most. "That'd work, right?"

"You don't have your apparition license yet, do you Bandy?" Azalea asked. When the teen shook his head, Azalea nodded. "Well, we'd need a target to get to. You can't apparate without a target without splinching."

"splinching?" I asked. "Small words for the non-wizard, remember?"

"An accident. Usually takes several specialist wizards to straighten out, often leaves the splinchee with something inside-out for the rest of their life." Howlover's description was enough for me to never want to do anything that resulted in splinching.

"Okay, but you can carry someone with it." I nodded to the teenage wizard. "And you can do this apparition over and over? It sounds like teleporting."

"Pretty much," the teen wizard said. "It can also leave you feeling really sick, particularly if you do several in a row."

"Right, but sick is better than eaten. If you took someone with you—someone who can look after themselves, and did this apparition thing across each cave, trying to head up every time, you could get out. And then, once you're out, you could come back in here and take another wizard out as well," I said, "and skip all the little steps in the middle."

As I described it, the teen looked more and more excited. "It'd be just like skipping a stone across a pond, only, when it gets to the other side, you can just throw the stones back and forth."

"It sounds dangerous." Azalea looked at me with as much honesty in her face as I think she could muster. "But if things become anymore dangerous here we might just have to face up to that. Why don't we file that away?"

The others all nodded to that.

"Then we need to fight our way out," I said.

"I like the way you think, Rodney Johnstone. I like it indeed. Are you sure there's not a trace of wizardry in your family?" the sixth of the wizards asked. He was a nice-looking old man with glasses, smile-lines all around his face, and a heavy five-o'clock shadow. The latter was caused by the fact we hadn't exactly had a chance to shave and shower for several days now. When I shook my head, he smiled. "Well, enough that you have a good head on your shoulders. My name's Albert, Albert Hornswaggle. I don't know if my great-grandson Bandy here has introduced himself or not either, but like him I find myself curious as to what your plan is."

I had to wonder how old a wizard had to be that he would look old, given Azalea was in her forties and looked twenty. "Well, sir, the most important thing is to contact this Luna again and find out when she and her army will be ready to protect us. There's no point exhausting ourselves getting out of this hole if the bugs just swarm out and drag us back in. We need to coordinate anything we do. Also, asking her for advice on fighting the bugs would probably be smart, too."

"Good head on your shoulders, lad. Shame you haven't got any magic in you—you'd make a fine wizard. So, what does everyone else have?" Albert looked around the others. "Anyone?"

"I don't think any of us are Aurors or trained to fight. I'm certainly not." Azalea's hand squeezed mine, but for what reason I didn't know. "We should ask around the others. You never know when someone you thought insignificant turns out to be far more than you realized." 

"We may not all be Aurors, but that doesn't mean we can't use stunners to knock them out. Kennedy proved they work with the captured bug." Albert's words were inspiring, or so it seemed. All the wizards and witches seemed to sit up a little straighter. "But you are wrong, Miss Bloom, we do have a wizard with us who is trained for such combat. Or, rather, he is training for it." He turned his gaze to look at Bandy. "Lad?"

Everyone turned to look at the kid. He seemed like he'd barely be 18—but I had to remind myself that he'd be old enough to join the army in that case. 

"I—I was in training for the Special Auror devision at MACUSA. It was a new group working under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I can teach you some spells if you want, but it—it would mean I'm going to change, right?"

Albert sighed and nodded. "It would seem that way, Bandy. There's no telling how much, or so it seems, but you will change." 

"Then I'll change. How can I stand back when everything I always wanted to be is right here? I want to protect people, wizard; witch; and——." He nodded to me. "It's time I put my mouth where my heart is. Okay, let me see your stunners."

Standing up, I was acutely aware of a sense of resignation among them. Howlover and Azalea aside, the rest had been fighting to keep their humanity. "I'll go talk to the others. Hopefully someone knows a thing or two about the kind of fighting we're going to need to do."

Kennedy still looked a little out of sorts with having me around their little meeting, but he seemed far more tolerant now. Maybe it was just a fear thing? I bit my lip as I realized the horror they were facing was the same as my own. I'd been an insensitive bastard. "Thanks. For what you're doing, I mean. I think I know a little of what you're all dealing with"—I tapped my right arm with the knuckles of my left and got a good thok sound—"and I appreciate this."

They all looked at my arm, and I saw Bandy gulp visibly. Not knowing what else to say, I turned and left them there to work out what they could do and what their plans were.

There was about thirty of us here—non-wizard/witches—and it was to the main group that I approached. 

Daphne was sitting there talking with the others. When she saw me, she raised an eyebrow. "What's up, Rod? Your friends freaking out or something?"

"Yeah, and I kinda get why. Azalea got fed up not using her magic and just wanted to get it over with—so she cast a heap of spells and didn't wind up like Howlover. They're trying to work out why and work out how they can be useful in us getting out of here." I noticed a few of them seemed to twitch at mention of magic or spells. I guess there are bigots on both sides of this fence. "But there's something else."

I explained the dream to them, going through it a little easier now I'd had practice. When I got to the end, I wasn't terribly surprised to see a lot of disbelieving looks. "Kennedy got a description of the blue pony from the bug earlier."

"Okay, and where does that leave us? It's not like we can just walk out of here. We don't even know where out is." I didn't know half of the people here, but the one who spoke was one of the ones who'd been twitchy about my talking of magic.

"Jake you idiot. It leaves us in a fucking hole filled with monsters. He's just trying to tell us we might have a damn chance in hell of getting out," someone said, then others started arguing for one side or the other.

"But this is all unnatural!"

"We need to get out sometime!"

I lifted my hand to my forehead and rubbed. Apparently it was going to be one of those days. "Look, either we work this out or the bugs come in and pick us off one by one! You know what they do with us, right?!"

My first few words were lost to the argument, but people went quiet to hear because at the heart of every emotionally stable and smart human was a caveman who wanted to hear about the scary things outside their cave. 

"Well?" I asked. When there was a soft mumble among the group that I took to be yes, I continued. "They will bite you until all you can think about is how much you love everything, then they stuff you into some kind of pod, and then they eat that love. You live out the rest of your days drugged up to your ears and in hell. I've felt what it's like when one feeds—it's not fun.

"So keep arguing about fucking semantics. Keep this bullshit facade of this being someone else's problem. Keep waiting around for the bugs to get in here and bite you, because if you keep doing this, that's what'll happen.

"I'm not saying these others are nice people. I'm not saying that the wizards over there will be saints. All I'm saying is that we put survival first and worry about arguing the finer points of theology when we're not trapped in a hole with monsters all around."

The group were quiet. It took a few minutes for a woman to ask, "How do you know so much about them?" Her eyes were flicking from my arm to my leg and back.

"Because he's turning into one!"

I was pleased to see someone thump the guy who'd spoken in the shoulder. "The one we have bit me and fed from me. Before you ask, it really sucks—both parts. The reason for this and this"—I tapped my arm gestured to my leg—"is because someone tried to work out what the poison they inject does and the magic made this happen. And before you ask, no, I don't hold a grudge for that."

"But what can we do?" That, I realized, was Daphne. She had a cunning smile that told me she was baiting for me.

Best not to give away that this was exactly what I wanted asked. I tried to roll my eyes a little. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I have no idea how to fight—and I mean really fight. But, when it comes to getting the hell out of here and fighting through a bunch of bugs to do it, I'm happy to learn. Is there anyone here with any military or police experience?"

"Howard has. He used to be a cop before he retired," a woman toward the back said.

The man beside her looked like a weed. He was tall and gray-haired, wearing an old sweatshirt that looked like it had seen better days (kinda like all of our clothing right now). "Yeah, I was. What of it?"

"Got any tips or ideas, because all I know is how to swing a hockey stick so it'll take someone's shins out." I gave him my best Canadian Smile, the one that had gotten me all the way from the border to New York on the kindness of strangers.

"You don't need a cop. You need someone who's done martial arts." The old guy—Howard—smirked at me. "I won't say I'm any good, but I learned a few things that way. Staves would be your best bet. They can be made out of anything and even a novice can thump one of them bugs with a length of wood."

It was such a simple idea, and so similar to me using a hockey stick, that I was stunned at it. "Can you get some people to help you search for staves and then see about getting some targets to practice on?"





The day went well. All the guys grabbed up our improvised weapons, and most of the women did too. I guess I always knew some of them wouldn't go for it, but seeing a young lady complain about breaking a nail actually stung. This would be a fight for our lives, and she was ready to give up just because it would be unfashionable and unladylike to fight.

"You look grumpy."

"I am grumpy. They would have still been arguing as the bugs came in to bite them if I hadn't used my secret weapon." I couldn't help myself, I let out a little moan as Azalea's thumbs pressed hard into the muscles where my collarbone met my neck.

"You have a secret weapon?" As she spoke, she adjusted her grip and rolled her thumbs down and along my shoulders. "What is it?"

"I'll tell you, but only because you keep doing—ohhh—that. I yelled at them, then I used my Canadian look." When she took her hands off my shoulders, I actually let out a little whine. "Why'd you stop?"

"Use this look on me. I gotta see this."

When she sat down in front of me, I realized that at some point she'd taken her robes off. I'd seen bits and pieces, but I'd never seen Azalea Bloom just wearing her charcoal skirt and white shirt. The amazing green crystal her body had become only made her more beautiful—at least in my eyes.

Looking at her, I gave her my best smile, tilted my head a little, and hoped for the best.

"That's… honestly pretty good. I can see why it worked on other people." She reached one emerald digit up and tapped my nose. "But I am wise to your sneaky, Canadian ways." She looked down at my chest and reached her other hand out to place it on the hard black stuff that my skin had become, in the middle of my chest. "How are you feeling about all this?"

"Honestly? About the same as you did earlier. I want it over with so I can start to adjust to whatever I'm going to turn into. If I become a bug, well, at least I can change to look like my old self." I looked down at her hand and sighed. "It's strange how hard it is. Like an insect."

"Except at your joints. Here." Her hand trailed up my chest to my shoulder and her fingers traced the joint there. "I don't think you're going to become a bug all the way. Maybe you'll just be like me?"

"Yeah. At least I could still hold your hand that way. Did you guys figure out how your horn works? It's gotta be magical, right?" I reached my still-human hand up and brushed her forehead first, then gently touched the base of her horn. The look on her face as I did so almost made me pull away.

Biting her lip, Azalea blushed up a storm. "N-No idea. It could be magical, but for now I'll stick to using my wand. I kno—know it works." As she spoke, and stumbled on her words, she leaned forward a little.

"A little sensitive?" I asked.

"Y-Yeah."

"Want me to stop?" I let my finger slide along the side of her horn. It was remarkable how warm it was. I wonder if deer antlers are like this?

Her smile grew while her eyes seemed to lose a little focus. "O-Only if you want me to—to be able to think straight." 

"Azalea Bloom, you're the smartest, most beautiful woman I've ever met, you thinking straight is what's so attractive about you." I drew my finger down to the base of her horn and started pulling it back—but she leaned forward to follow the touch. It was only when her lips bumped mine that I was able to remove my hand from her horn completely, though now I had her in a kiss.

Something burned hotter inside of me when we kissed. It was like a small inferno that just grew stronger and stronger the longer we were together. Was this love? Was I in love with her, despite that damn bug's attempts to eat all my love?

Azalea broke the kiss first. "What did you just do?"

The heat was still there, but it didn't get stronger anymore. Azalea, however, had my attention with her serious tone. "W-What do you mean?"

"It was like there was some kind of magical connection between us. I could feel you—" She stopped and closed her eyes. "Rod, firstly, don't panic about this, okay?"

"Telling me not to panic is a great way to ensure I panic. What shouldn't I panic about so much that I panic?" It was only mostly a joke. Mostly.

"I think I just felt you draining some of the love out of me, like how you explained the bug did. Don't"—she grabbed my arm, stopping me from recoiling—"think of this as a bad thing. You're still you, Rod, and I don't think whatever this is is inherently bad." Her eyes pinned mine despite my desire to turn and run—she wouldn't let me.

"But I—" I ran headlong (metaphorically) into the brick wall that I'd put up for myself. "I'm turning into a bug. I already knew that. So what does this mean?"

"It means, I think, that you might get some kind of magic out of it too. What is the bug able to do? I hate that we have to keep doing this, but maybe talking to the one we have might help?" Holding up a hand, Azalea added, "But only talking. Not offering it food or anything."

"You said—" I blew out a breath. "Don't let me get close to it and don't get close to it either."

Looking at my left arm, the one that wasn't fully black yet, I could see the blackness spreading—far faster than before. "It's sped up."

"But you still have your hand on the right. That must mean that you're like me. You won't go any further. Howlover said she never had a point where her hands turned to crystal—they turned into crystal hooves." We started walking toward the location of the cage. "I can ask it myself, if you want. I don't like threatening creatures, but given how it acted so far…" 

"No. No, I need to stand up to them." I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her against me. Azalea was warm, so full of life and beauty. I was becoming what, a half-bug love-vampire? "Are there any creatures like these bugs back home?"

"Bits and pieces. The Brits have some nasties that feed off hope and happiness. They're kinda like wraiths, or so I hear. Shapechanging is something that's a little rare, though there are werewolves and such that do it." Azalea ticked off her fingers as she spoke, which led me to believe she was working through a set of traits she'd identified in the bug. "And the venomous bite is something odd, but hardly unique. Even normal snakes can give a deadly bite, though I don't think I've ever seen something that uses its venom to induce that kind of reaction before."

"You know a lot about monsters and stuff?" As I walked, I could feel the changes speeding up. Before it had been Azalea's magic that had made it start, but if I'd eaten some of her love, did that mean I was fueling it myself now? 

"Not really. Mostly rumors. I'm a city-girl. I make my living selling cars and trying my damnedest to avoid using anything magical to do it. All the magic in the world doesn't help you if you can't afford to buy food or pay rent." 

"That's just so—so mundane. You really sell cars?" It was good to have a distraction from what was happening to my body, what was happening to everyone here, and what was about to happen. 

"New ones, yeah. I have a suit I wear and everything. What, you think I spend all day wandering the street in my robes? This is sort of—sort of like armor. My boss doesn't have a shred of magic, but his father was a wizard. He understands it's a good idea to keep a witch on the premises." She let out a sad sigh. "I bet he's wondering where I am."

We were getting close to the cage and both of us fell silent as we got withing hearing distance of it. The bug lifted its head and looked at us. "You don't smell so delicious anymore. Did your shell catch up with you?"

"My what?"

"Shell." The bug reached a hoof back and tapped at its midsection, which made a sort of thok thok thok sound. "Your friend still smells goo"—its head snapped around to look at me directly and its eyes widened—"d. You fed from them!"

"You did this to him. What is going on?" Azalea asked.

"Tsk tsk tsk. We both did this to him. I provided the venom, you provided the magic. It's strange how mutable your kind is. If I didn't know better, I'd say you smell almost like a pony." The bug stood up slowly and walked to the bars before reaching its head through. "Come closer and I can check."

"You hurt her and I'll bite you so hard your—I'll break something." I crouched down well outside of its reach. "You don't sound as hungry, though. You said I was tasty, but was I also filling."

The bug actually looked slightly embarrassed. It recoiled a little and hung its head, then mumbled something.

"Oh. Now you go all quiet? I'm right, aren't I?" I pointed one inky-black index finger at the bug. "You're full and you don't want to admit it."

The bug looked a mix of murderous and embarrassed.

"Let me guess, you don't eat this well with your buddies, huh?" As cocky as I felt, the sensation of hard casing creeping up my neck made it hard to project the level of smug I wanted. "Here are you, living in paradise with so many meals all around you—one practically giving itself to you. What's going to happen if we let you go and you crawl back to your buddies this full?"

"They'll drain me. Or our queen will drain me. Since our defeat in Canterlot, food has been scarce. Too many of us." The bug looked down at its forehooves—hanging its head.

Azalea cleared her throat. "So help us. We're going to get out of here. Help us—guide us out—and we'll make sure you stay well-fed."

Hissing, the bug lifted its head and looked up at Azalea. "Who would let a changeling feed on them? You?" 

"I let him feed. You help us get out of here and you'll find a lot of people will be happy enough to let you feed." She crouched down to look the bug—or changeling, as it called itself—eye to eye. "What's keeping you here, anyway?"

"You don't understand. If I help you—even if I guided you to the shortest possible path to the surface, there will be hundreds of my siblings waiting. You don't even realize where you are, do you? This is a defensible position. If you pushed your front line up further, you'd have access to the lower caves, which would mean water and food for your kind."

"Hundreds?" I asked.

"Hundreds. We attacked Canterlot 5,000 strong. If she finds out how filling your love is, she'll send everybuggy down here. There'll be so many changeling you won't be able to breathe." The changeling stared at me. "You won't stand a chance."

"So we can't ever let you go. Why'd you tell us that?" Azalea asked.

Turning around and laying flat on the floor of its cage, the changeling let out a sigh. "It's nice not being hungry. If I sell you out to Queen Chrysalis, she'll see to it the closest thing to another taste of any of you will be a trickle of love from a pod."

"You know these caves. You know how to defend them and how to make the most of the places they can lead." I reached up to where the black was creeping to the underside of my neck. There was a series of gaps, like with my elbows and knees, to let my head move on my neck. "Show us and you can keep eating well."

"You'd need more than one of us to have a hope."

It was interesting to hear. "How many? And do you think you can trust any—"

"I can trust my nest-mates. You need to keep up your side of the deal. There'll be six of us. If you can keep us all well-fed, we'll show you how to survive down here." The changeling stood up and turned toward us. "Well?"

"How much food do you need? You fed off me twice and Azalea once. How long will that last you?" I asked and stood up.

"That much a week would be enough. It'd be safer if it was three different creatures, too." Walking to the cage, the changeling shapeshifted into a bee and walked through the gap. When we both recoiled, it shapechanged again into a form more like what I felt I was becoming. It stood there—upright—and looked me in the eyes. "I'll need to find my nest-mates."

"We have to just trust you? What's your name?" Azalea asked.

The changeling smiled at us with a cocky, very-human grin. "Mandible. I'll be back in an hour."

All it would take is one shout from either of us and the others would come running and probably kill Mandible. If it was right about calling in its swarm, and it still went ahead and did it, we were not going to get out of here.

"Alright. Keep out of the light and most people will think you're me." I pointed toward the tunnel that left our cave.





"You did what?" Kennedy stared between me and Azalea. "How could you? There was still—" He looked haggard. Like he'd spent a lot of time doing something that he wasn't accustomed to.

"I trust Mandible. I don't think we're going to be getting out of here soon. It admitted there were hundreds of its kin between us and the surface. Even our crazy rapid-teleport idea wouldn't work with that many." Azalea's words were pretty much the same as mine. She gestured to me. "Rod thinks the same thing."

"Yeah I do. The thing that got me the most about this talk with it was how much it showed emotion. I think even the changeling didn't realize how much of an effect a good meal would have. Guess that means I kinda defeated it with love, huh?" As I spoke, I reached up to my face and rubbed at the growing snout that, even as I spoke, was pushing little by little forward.

Scoffing, Kennedy waved a hand in the direction of the entrance. "And if you're wrong—?"

"If we're wrong," I said, "it tells its whole hive we're still down here. Something they already know."

"You weren't wrong." The voice I knew. I turned to see Mandible standing behind me in the shadows. Since the change had risen to my face, I'd found my eyesight getting better. "These are my kin: Wing, Buzz, Bite, Nib, and Claw. You have food for them?" As Mandible spoke, it gestured to each of the other changelings with it.

"Food for us," Bite said.

Six of them all up, but we only had to feed five immediately.

"Take some of mine." As she spoke, Azalea reached out and grabbed my shoulders to pull me closer. I wasn't exactly ready for her kiss, but when her lips touched mine I melted against her.

This time, as I felt the warmth inside her, I also felt five other presences sharing it with me. Jealousy, anger, and more boiled up inside, but she just clung tighter to me and, at last, broke the kiss.

"Stop. Stop feeding from me." Azalea sounded a little drunk as she spoke. 

Mandible moved faster than I would have expected a changeling could move. It smacked at each of its kin. "I told you, they're allies and food. When they say stop, you stop. It's their job to find us food."

The feeding sensation was instantly gone. I looked into Azalea's eyes and saw relief in them. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah. It wasn't too bad—well, it's not bad now. When they were doing it, though, felt pretty horrible." She tilted her head up and gave me no other option than to meet her lips with my own. The heat inside her flared white hot, as if she were renewing all the love they'd drunk from her. I didn't dare feed, not now. 

"Look how much love she still has! Can't we have just a little?" I don't know which of the bugs said it, but it wasn't Mandible.

"No." This was Mandible. I don't know how I could pick its voice out from the other bugs, but it was distinguishable. "What you just had was more than any bug has been given for a long time. I told you these creatures were fair—trust me."

"How are we meant to trust you?" Kennedy's voice broke my mood for kissing Azalea (something I wasn't sure was actually possible).

Azalea was smiling again. The bright warmth of her love felt like a warm blanket to me. "Because Rod trusts them, and Rod's the only one here who's standing up to take the lead."

When the hell did this happen? I couldn't be a leader—I'm a freakin' ex-junkie sports fan who just wanted to see a damn hockey game! 

"Rod—" Mandible's voice again. I couldn't turn my head to see it because my back was to the bugs and Azalea still hadn't let go after the kisses, "sacrificed himself repeatedly to get information out of me. He let me feed until I was almost besotted by him. Then, when I thought everything was hopeless and I'd be ripped apart by either side—he talked to me."

Gently pulling from Azalea's grip just enough to turn, I saw the changelings were all looking up at me.

Sighing out loud, Kennedy shook his head. "And the insane thing is I trust him too—for some of the same reasons. You're not a wizard, Rodney Johnstone, but you understand us enough that I can admire your flexibility. So what do you have planned?"

I wanted to tell them all to just fuck off. This wasn't what I signed on for—I didn't even sign on at all! Instead, my mind raced to work out what we should be doing. "Wizards and changelings only account for two of our three groups. We need to all get together and talk about what we are going to do. First, though, what of the hive? Are they going to attack us soon?"

"Nope," one of the changelings said. "They're waiting for you to starve yourselves and try to run. What I don't get is why Mandible got caught."

"I was hungry, Bite. Like you all were," Mandible said.

"'Were' being the important bit there. If you can find us a safe place and food, we'll keep you all fed." I met the eyes of the changelings. They all looked so much less threatening now I know they're just people looking for food and safety too. Knowing how they normally got food, though, reminded me that we had to be careful with the rest of them. "Come on. Time to get the whole gang together. Kennedy, can you get all the wizards to meet up further in?"

Kennedy looked back toward the entrance to our caves. "We need someone on guard, Rod. They have a right to know what's going on too, but we—"

"Then we'll hold the meeting up here," I said. "Get the wizards and meet us here. I'll go get the rest of us."

It took some time, and I get plenty of strange looks while wandering between each little camp, but I managed to persuade everyone to join the meeting for one important reason—we were going to decide something important. People, I knew, hated to be left out of these kinds of things.

I led the last group up to the entrance myself. There was a bunch of people already there, the group of wizards, and Azalea standing between them all and the changelings. "Just stay calm, I invited them here."

"You invited them? They'll bring the rest of the bugs with them!" The voices of the crowd were almost impossible to pinpoint.

"You're crazy!"

"You're turning into one!"

"Hold it," I said. "I might be crazy and I might be turning into one a bit, but right now they're the best chance we have of surviving. There're thousands of them up there"—I nodded toward the entrance to our cave section—"and they're just waiting for us to run out of food, luck, or patience. We could each take out fifty of them, and they'd still overwhelm us."

"It's true." Mandible's voice silenced everyone before they did more than open their mouths. "Queen Chrysalis and our former hive are waiting. They have time, you don't. We don't."

"So why did you come down here, then?" 

Laughing with a hissing sound, Mandible pointed one hole-filled hoof upward. "Because we're sick of being hungry! Our queen grew our hive too big to be supported on the food we have, and that means no changeling gets more than the bare minimum to live. If you let us feed on you—just a little is enough—then we'll show you where a better spot is. A larger cave with only a single entrance and food you can eat."

"It's a trick!" 

"But what if it isn't?"

That's what I wanted to hear. I cleared my throat. "If it isn't a trick, and we can't get out of here, and we can get to a safer chamber that we can survive in long-term—maybe long enough for our wizard friends to figure a way out of—then we have to take it."

Albert Hornswaggle stepped forward from among the wizards and looked me right in my eyes. "And you believe it's not a trick?"

"They were starving, I could tell that when they fed on Azalea. No one should have to live like that. If they're not sincere, then I don't care. They should be allowed a chance to live." Looking around at everyone, I could see faces tighten at mention of starvation—something we were all facing here. I settled my view on the changelings. "You said you know where there's food for us?"

"Nib found it. Mushrooms and other fungi growing in the deep caves. There's an underground river there too. You'll never find it without us." Mandible stood proud and looked me in the eyes. "You want our help, you feed us. We feed you. We guard each other."

"W-What do you need to eat?" Howard Rourke stepped to the front of the crowd. "Rod there said it was love? I haven't got any love left in me."

Walking up to Howard, one of the changelings that wasn't Mandible looked him up and down, sniffing. Its long tongue snaked out and slid across its mouth—avoiding its fangs. "You stink of love. Lots of love. Can I show you?"

"Sure, but—" Howard's eyes went wide as the changeling opened its mouth and started to suck something. He stared at the changeling for several seconds before tears came to his eyes. "I—I didn't even think I still…"

"You are full of love. You all are. It swirls around you and through you. Feed us, let us show you the love you forgot you had, let us show you by drinking it." Any feeding the changeling had been doing was well over. Howard didn't look any worse for it, apart from the tears on the old man's cheeks. "For that I'll help you. For that I'll show you where I found the food you might eat." That made the changeling Nib.

Lifting an arm up to wipe his tears away on a dirty sleeve, Howard crouched down and still wasn't at the same eye-height as Nib. "If that's all it takes to get us somewhere safer, have a bit more."

Nib made short, fast hisses that confused me at first, until I realized it was giggling. "Never in my life have I said this, but I'm full enough for now. We'll take you to the place."

"Hold on!" A woman strode forward and jabbed a finger at me. She looked angry, but I couldn't for the life of me remember her name. "You said we'd be getting out of here! You said we would fight our way through! You said—"

"He didn't know how many of us there are." Mandible walked up to stand beside me. "This—what you have in here—is a tiny fraction of our hive. It is vast and spreads out above and below ground. We are almost at the bottom of it here, and there's half the hive above you—waiting in the tunnels."

"How many—ah, changelings—are in your hive again?" Albert Hornswaggle asked.

"We had five thousand at the attack on Canterlot. Not all of us made it back, but our queen was seeing to fixing the losses." Nib's words stunned everyone. 

Albert sucked in air sharply at the numbers. "And what will happen if they find you here with us?"

"The same that happens to you. They'll suck all the love out of us, only when they do it to us, we die." Nib shrugged its shoulders. "But with you, life will have meaning and more food. Mostly the latter."

Albert turned to look at Howard and the woman who'd voiced her dislike of it. "What are your thoughts? We'll all bear the brunt of feeding them, but you are more numerous and I can respect your differing opinions."

"Five thousand?" The woman looked sobered. "How hard will it be to reach this cave? Can we do it without losing anyone?"

Mandible grinned, showing more than his two huge fangs. "If we silence the guards watching the passages, yes."

It was like a wave of new energy flowing over everyone. Realizing that the changelings would be fighting with us was a kick in the pants. Talk started, and none of it sounded angry anymore.

Howard Rourke looked at me. "When are we going?"

"Tomorrow. I have to talk with someone first."





The dream barely lasted long enough for me to recognize Azalea before I was alone in the dreamspace with Luna again. She looked at me in shock. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"You—Your appearance is very different." She sounded worried, I guess I couldn't blame her. "How goes your preparations?"

"Well, their venom combined with our magic did something that turned me into—" I looked down at myself. The black snout I'd been growing was visible, as was most of my chitinous body where my clothes didn't cover. "… this. It seems to have stopped here, though I can feel fangs growing in. I have no idea how I'll talk then, but so far it's not too bad.

"Our preparations have stopped. Mandible and the others have told us that about half the hive sits between us and free air, so we're not going to try for it. Thousands of changelings versus the few dozen of us?"

Luna's face pulled into a tight grimace. "What are your plans, then? And who is this Mandible?"

Given our last talk, I already knew what her thoughts were going to be on this. "Mandible, Wing, Buzz, Bite, Nib, and Claw are changelings. They have been starving while their queen just makes more of them—no, I don't want to know how that works. The point is, we can give them the food they want and they can lead us to a cave that's safer for us. Somewhere that has food."

"What of our army? What would you have of us?" Luna asked.

"I think it would be safer for all of us if you didn't come. The changelings might be starving, but they have numbers. Mandible estimated over five thousand in total, and they'll be on their home-ground." I sighed and sat down on the cool grass under a moonlight night in my dream. "I want to be out of this place—everyone does—but for now we're going to have to sit tight and take any help we can get down here."

"Perhaps we can provide something yet. A fake rescue and invasion would draw their attention away from you and, so long as we don't directly enter the hive, not put our soldiers in danger." She sat down and looked at me. "It still worries me that you're consorting with changelings. As yet, we have been unable to contact a single one that hasn't been following Queen Chrysalis' every order, and they are extremely deceptive creatures."

"Well, humans have been pretty good at that too. We even made games about it." It was true. I mean, card games have been about deception for a long time, and magic tricks too. "I'd like to keep in touch, though. One day we'll find a way out of here, and when we do it would be nice to have friends waiting for us."

She seemed to think on it and nodded. "We will contact the other humans who have arrived and ask for them to help us work out something. The distraction on the hive will begin in a day. Until then, please stay safe."

"We're not going to be safe until we're out of this hive, but thank you, Luna." I figured I shouldn't use any titles, even if I now knew she was a princess. After all, I was still a good Canadian boy—Queen Elizabeth and her family are the only royalty I should acknowledge.

The dream faded into something far less focused. By the time I woke, I couldn't remember anything but Luna's dream.





Over the following day we trained more. The changelings helped explain their tactics to us, and we worked out ways for them to communicate with us without words—whistles, hisses, stomping hooves. When we actually started moving, we were as ready as a few days of training could make us (which wasn't a lot).

My changes had, thankfully, stopped, but not before gracing my back with a pair of translucent wings and my forehead with a curved, black horn. Not that I wanted to risk using either without more than half a day's training.

Everyone was carrying something. We had some pulling the hotdog cart, others carrying as much extra clothing as they could from suitcases that'd been pulled through the portal with us. On my own back was a suitcase stuffed full of cookware. 

In the distance, down the tunnel we were all getting ready to walk down, I saw movement. "They're coming back."

Mandible was in the lead of three of the six changelings. After just a day I'd managed to work out little differences between them and could at least tell them apart. "Come. Bite and Claw have the guards restrained. We only have a single patrol to ambush and it should be an easy run to the lower caves."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Azalea asked. "Let's go."

"Yeah." I turned to all the people spread out down the tunnel. "We're moving. Come on, and don't forget to keep track of your buddy. If your buddy goes missing, let us know right away."

It was the best plan I could come up with. Get everyone paired up, that way if a loyalist changeling tried to infiltrate our column, someone would notice. I hoped someone would notice, anyway.

Wing and Buzz headed back down the tunnel while we all started moving. Light would have been a problem, but we had wizards at various intervals of our column with light spells letting everyone see. 

Azalea let out a soft sigh. She was walking just behind me, her wand extended to the side and producing light for the first half a dozen people to see where they were walking. "Trust me to fall for a hero." 

I had to fight not to look back at her. Her light was behind me for a reason, and turning to look at it would completely ruin my vision until I adjusted again. "I'm not a hero."

"I'm sorry," Azalea said. "Was it the retired cop or the group of wizards that organized all this and got us help from Mandible and his crew?"

"Her," Mandible said.

"Her? Sorry, I'm not used to your—"

"All changeling workers are female. The warriors are males. Our queen is, of course, female." Mandible gestured vaguely upward and to the side as they mentioned queen. "It's always been like that."

"Huh. Does that mean you could have offspring?"

I spotted a changeling in the distance, mostly because of their eyes. "Is that Buzz or Wing?"

"Neither." Mandible stepped forward and raised her voice. "Who are you? I finally got these creatures to leave the hole they'd secured themselves in, and now you come and ruin it? The queen will be annoyed at this."

"Somebuggy's lying." The changeling didn't take a step forward, but there was a sense of menace coming from it. "Why don't we get Her Majesty to come down? If you're correct, she can praise you right here for your work. If I'm correct, we can—"

There was a dull thud from the direction of the changeling and its eyes closed as they went down. 

"Sorry. They wouldn't let us get a good angle on them. I told them you were coming and we were heading off to get reinforcements. Idiot." Wing stepped into view, grinning and walking with confidence. "Come on, we only have the patrol left to deal with."

With my heart no longer thudding in my chest (at least I hope it's my heart, there's no telling what's going on in my body now) we pushed on past the changeling, only pausing long enough to tie them up.

"Should we just bring them with us? Do you think they'd join our side?" I asked.

"Those ones?" Buzz gestured to the tied up group of three changelings who'd been guarding the tunnel. "No. Too loyal." She sighed. "I would have said the same about myself three days ago."

"We can't carry them and we can't trust them not to try to run if we untie them. Keep moving." Mandible's tone was a sharp rebuke that I had to reluctantly agree with. 

"Okay, everyone, let's keep it moving." After nearly half an hour of making our way along the tunnel there was a split to the left. "This is the split. Kennedy and Daphne, you watch that and move back up when our tail passes it. Got it?"

They were a few people back, but I heard both reply with affirmatives as they shifted into the entrance of that tunnel. 

Mandible gave a sharp chirp with her wings. "Claw, Nib, go with them and keep an eye out. Don't mess around. If there's more than you can handle alone, shout for help. We're one hive now."

It was an odd statement, I thought, given that she'd effectively divided the hive and split off from it. "What do you mean, one hive?"

"You, us. This has never been done before. Food is captured, food is stuffed in pods, food is eaten. Food is never protected and cared for, food isn't talked to or helped. You're not just food, you're part of the hive. One hive."

Ahead, in the silence following Mandible's words, I heard changelings talking. What got my attention wasn't the words, though, it was a three-clip-clop sound of hooves shuffling. 

"Who's that?" I asked Mandible, keeping my voice low.

"Should be Bite and Wing ahead of us. If I had to guess, I'd say they found the patrol." Lowering herself almost to the ground, Mandible said just a little louder, "Lower your light." When another triple-tap came, Mandible hissed softly. "Okay, put your wand away and follow me."

"Me?" Azalea asked.

"Yes. You look enough like food but can fight. Try to look dazed, don't talk except to repeat the last word spoken to you, and stare at me as if I were your food." Straightening up, Mandible started walking forward.

Slipping her wand under her robes, Azalea walked forward behind Mandible. It was probably one of the bravest things I'd seen her do, particularly when she started shuffling and lowered her head to stare at Mandible.

With the lowered light, I didn't see much once they got more than twenty paces ahead of us. Barely heard words and traces of movement came to me from the hall. My ears were far more sensitive to sounds, despite being not much more than elongated human ones. 

"Stupify! Stupify!" Azalea's voice was sharp, and I knew the spell-word from the time Kennedy had used it. 

Pounding my hooves against the tunnel floor, I rushed up just in time for Azalea to use her wand to dimly light the tunnel. Two changelings were laying on the ground at Azalea's hooves, another was ten meters down the tunnel with Mandible standing over them. "Was that all of them?"

"No," Mandible said. "There was another. We have to move fast now!"

"Well, fuck the noise then." I turned and headed back to the column. "One of the patrol got away. We need to move as fast as we can and expect a skirmish front or back while doing it. Pass it back. Plan B."

Plan B was change the spacing in the group so half the wizards were front, half were back, and we just blast our way through anything. Azalea wasn't far behind me. She had her wand out and brought it up to full brightness. "Okay, I'm ready. Mandible?"

Mandible was waiting just ahead, having bound the three changelings up with her goop. Goop that I didn't want to know how to make. She nodded at us and took the lead.

After an hour of moving as quickly as we could, we reached another fork in the tunnel. Mandible nodded toward it. "Right path is down to the caverns we want, left leads up to the heart of the hive. If anything's going to come at us, it'll be from there. This is the only entrance to the lower caverns."

It was one of those moments where trusting Mandible could have dire consequences. If this was leading us to a trap, we were done for. If it was our new home, we might yet be safe. "Azalea, you and Mandible guard this tunnel. I'll lead everyone down into this place. Where's Stefanie?"

"Here, Rod." Stefanie sounded like she was just about done with running around in the dark. "What do you need?"

"This is our tunnel. I need you to make as much light as you can while we head down, but try to keep it behind Kennedy. I want to ruin the night-vision of anyone who might be down there, but keep ours as good as possible." I started walking down the tunnel myself, leaving Kennedy to catch up and Stefanie to prepare herself. When the column caught up with Stefanie at its head, I nodded. "Let's go."

The tunnel was a steep angle down, and we didn't have far to go before it opened up into a huge cave. Huge enough that when Stefanie made her wand extra-bright, I still couldn't see the ceiling. It had to be a hundred meters high if it was anything. The claustrophobic feeling of the old caves was gone, and the best bit was I couldn't see any of the changelings at all.

Relief flooded me as I stepped aside and turned. "Okay, spread out as far as you can. We have others coming in and we might even have some unwelcome guests. Set your packs down over here and get ready by the entrance. We don't want any of them to get into this cavern."

People were piling into the cave by now. They looked tired and worn down, and who could blame them the way we'd been living? Hotdogs were not long-term food. Then again, whatever was growing down here probably wasn't either, but we could see what the wizards could do with it.

When I saw Bandy and Albert enter the tunnel, I called out, "Where's Azalea and Mandible?"

"Kennedy and Howlover are with them. There's a rush of bugs coming down the tunnel." Albert was practically dragging Bandy behind him. The kid looked like he was ready to run back down the tunnel the moment he was let go. "Bandy, calm down. There's no room for you back there. When they pull back, though, we're going to need to hold the bugs here."

The flow of people into the cave lessened. With the noise everyone was making, I couldn't hear what was going on in the tunnel. Rodney Johnstone, you're an idiot—might as well act like one. "Keep showing everyone what to do, I'm going to help."

Plunging onward, I was working against the flow of people in the narrow tunnel. In places it was barely wide enough for one person, let alone me being able to get past them. By the time I reached the intersection, I had been hearing the spellcasting for some time.

Azalea and Stefanie stood tall above Kennedy (who was crouched) and Howlover (who was standing on all fours). They were slinging a spell every second or so, lighting up the tunnels with yellow and red splashes of light. What surprised me was Claw stood between Kennedy and Howlover, launching blasts of green from her horn.

They seemed to have that under control, so I turned to look the other way. Wing, Buzz, and Bite were turned—their backs to the last few humans making their way into the tunnel beside me—sending their own green blasts at dark targets that were briefly lit up green before the magic struck. 

"Come on, everyone! Move! Move!" My shouts were intended for the last trickle of people, and when they were all in the tunnel leading to our cave, I added. "That's all of them. Start backing up and coming down this tunnel. Albert and Bandy are preparing themselves to take over when you reach the cave."

The two groups backed up until they were at the intersection. "Claw! Fall back and feed, we've still got some more in us here. Wizards, you can fire over our backs?" Bite asked.

"Yeah. Kennedy, Howlover, fall back and let the others take your place as we reach the smaller tunnel. Rod, what's this tunnel like?" Azalea's tone was sharp and to the point. Her eyes never left the tunnel in front of her.

I backed up, making room for them to enter the tunnel. "Really narrow compared to this. At one spot it's barely wide enough for one person with a pack or two people squeezing."

"Perfect!" Stefanie said, before launching another blast of red light down the tunnel. "Can you get a message to Bandy and Albert that we'll hold the tunnel just behind that spot?"

"Will do. I'll tell everyone to get ready for some hungry changelings, too." My reply earned me a flash of blue eyes as Claw turned with a grin. "Come on, I'll show you where the narrow bit is so more than one of us knows of it."

As a smaller group, Claw, Kennedy, and Howlover followed me down the tunnel toward our cave. The spot where it narrowed significantly was obvious enough by the marks on each side of hard things scraping against the walls. 

"This is the narrowest part. Claw, come with me. Kennedy, Howlover, you need to hold this spot and not let anyone past it you can't verify." Though it would ruin my light sensitivity, I turned to face the two wizards. Howlover was still completely a pony, but Kennedy seemed to have stopped from fully changing into a quadrupedal-only stance. Both nodded to me in understanding. "Come on, Claw. We don't know how long they're going to keep…" I realized something felt different. There was a sort of breeze coming from the cave. "There's another way into the cave somewhere. I can feel a breeze."

"That explains why the air isn't stale. Some caves have spouts leading to the surface, others get air from underground streams. This is probably the latter." Claw walked at my side without a hint of disquiet or ill effects from their magic use. "We'll have time to investigate the stream—I know of a good form for doing so."

"You think it's a stream because of how deep we are?"

"Yes. The likelihood of a chimney reaching all the way down here is very low."

"How does a stream bring air in?" The light ahead was getting brighter. Eventually we turned a slight corner in the tunnel and were stepping into the last section. At the end of it, Bandy and Albert stood—wands raised.

"Air gets trapped in fast-moving water as bubbles. It might not seem like much, but if it flows fast it can be a lot." Claw squinted their eyes mostly closed. "Why do your kind make so much light?"

"I heard a story once about the two traits that humans have that nothing else had in our world. The first was being smarter than everything else—which doesn't seem to matter worth a loonie here—and the other is that we can run all day and not stop."

"That's all?"

"That's it. Everything else we're terrible at. That includes seeing in dark places."

Claw broke into some chirping that reminded me how different they were from humans, but at the same time they got the joke. "Bandy, Albert, we're moving the defense line up to the pinch in the cave a few twists back."

"How do we know it's you?" Bandy asked.

I thought back to something I knew that a bug impersonating me wouldn't. "You don't have your apparition license yet." The instant relief on his and Albert's faces was something I could appreciate. "Follow me. Oh, and Claw, ask around for some food. Most people are exhausted, but there'll be someone—I'm sure—who can spare something."

"You know, now that I think about it," Claw said, "having lots of stamina might be a good trait." She smiled at me knowingly and walked into the cave.

Turning, I left the bug to find someone to give them a meal and led the pair to where Kennedy and Howlover were. I was just about to ask them something to verify who they were when light from further down the tunnel flared got my attention. "They're falling back to us, right?"

"Yeah. They've been getting closer and closer. Wait, there, I can see Azalea's robes." Kennedy gestured with a hoof as a red glow illuminated the witch's clothing. We watched as, step by step and spell by spell they approached.

When the group backed all the way to the our side of the constriction, Bandy stood up tall and aimed his wand. "Get down!" The moment everyone in front of him dropped, Bandy started repeating the same words over and over. "Incendio Tria! Incendio Tria! Incendio Tria!"

It was an incredible sight. This is what I always thought magic would be like. He might just be a kid, but Bandy hadn't been slinging spells for the last half an hour and he looked to be literally in his element. 

Fireballs flew from his wand again and again, rushing down the tunnel to the gap and through it. There were screaming sounds that made my blood run cold, but still Bandy kept casting. Only when no more moving black bodies were illuminated by the glowing tunnel walls did he stop his chant.

Panting, Bandy stared down the length of his wand like—like a real wizard. Then he wobbled a little and caught himself on the wall. "I don't think they'll come down in a rush again."

"Wow, kid, you got some heft. Specialize in fire?" Kennedy asked.

"Y-Yeah. That's why I was aiming for government work." Looking so proud of himself, Bandy wiped some sweat off his brow and leaned against the wall. "I need a little break before I can do that again, though. Just a—a little one."

I focused on the tunnel and realized it was still glowing softly with the heat of the spells. "What were you using before?"

"Mostly stunners. A few others to mix things up. They'd just drag the stunned bugs out of the way and more would replace them." Azalea walked up to me and grabbed me up in a hug before planting her fuzzy lips against my smooth ones. The kiss sparked and fizzed with energy but, though I could feel that fire inside her, I forced myself not to feed on her. She broke apart from me and slowly slumped into my grip. "That was some amazing work. I can't believe we got everyone here. How big's the cave?"

"From what I saw, huge. We'll rattle around in there and, better, there's fresh air coming in. We'll have to find out where from, but Claw thinks it's a stream pumping it in. That can be left for later. Even if the air is coming from a tunnel, it'll be a huge long one all the way to the surface." I pulled her tight against my side and could feel how wrung-out she was. "I think we have this under control."

"You big, Canadian idiot." Azalea kissed my cheek. "You have it under control. We're just following your example."





"A week without them trying to push against us. Ever since Bandy started randomizing his shifts on the tunnel, the bugs stopped trying to come. That lad seems as serene as an angel, until he starts casting fireballs." I looked at Luna, feeling relief that she'd continued to maintain contact. It was good to have someone else to talk to who had to deal with being a leader. "The mushrooms that Mandible told us about turned out to be a mix of about 60/40 edible to not so much. We cleared out the inedible ones and are trying to promote the others to spread."

"You have been very lucky."

"I know. Mandible and her family are—They even said they are unique. We were going to try contacting other changelings, but it's not worth the danger. How are things going for you?" When Luna let out a long sigh, I knew I should be trying to get comfortable.

"The two humans from the Ministry of Magic, as they call their organization, have been passed off to me to deal with. They are trying to usurp Equestria and the Crystal Empire by hoof-lengths. Nibbling at laws and restrictions like they were tiny fish, but I see what they're doing." She tossed her wings out to the sides and flopped on the pillows around her like she'd just had every one of her bones removed. 

"They sound like politicians. Your best bet is to pull the rug out from under them in a way they will understand and fear." When Luna lifted her snout from the pile of pillows she was in long enough to make eye-contact, I continued. "Well, you have your own bureaucrats, I'm sure, so pit them against each other. Make committees to look into each and every nibble they try. Ensure that some people—err, ponies—are on all the committees so they can't all be scheduled at once and show them how long it will take to process every one of their requests. Then, as each and every tiny little idea is discussed and finally sent to you for evaluation, claim that you can't make a statement until their other requests are evaluated and then reevaluated in light of the one they just finished."

"How do you know all this?"

"My dad was a politician—a conservative. This kind of insanity was business as usual for him. Just remember the words, 'I couldn't possibly comment on the validity of that idea until it has been reviewed by experts,' and you're going to be able to stall them for years."

She wasn't just looking at me now, Luna was taking notes on a scroll that hovered beside her. Casual magic was something I'd had to get used to, though this was even more casual than what I'd seen Azalea or the other witches and wizards use. 

"I wish I could move things into and out of a dream, though notes would have to wait until after I'd evacuated you." She looked a little defeated at that, and I could understand why. For all the power Equestria seemed to have, she couldn't use it to get us out.

"Just knowing that we will eventually get out and have somewhere to go is enough right now. We need hope, Luna, and you give that to us."

"Rodney Johnstone, you give yourselves hope. In the meantime, stay safe." Luna spread her wings and the shared dream was gone in a wash of cobalt magic.
> Dragonrider
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The change from human to crystal pony had been slow enough for Charlie that neither Whistlewing nor Norbert considered him any more like food than normal. He'd shrunk a little, but he was still the one who brings food for them, which made him not-food.

However, with his body having become an almost perfect, living diamond, he had drifted right into the possession category for Equestrian dragons.

"I don't want you going outside." Rake's position on Charlie was firm—she didn't want him in danger. Her instincts reinforced that given they considered Charlie as being her property. "If anyone else sees you, they'll try to grab you. If you're lucky, they will be old enough to want to hoard you."

"Are you done?" Charlie asked. When all Rake did was blow smoke out of her nose, he considered that was the case. "I am not going to live the rest of my life in your treasure room. For a start, I need food, I need to take care of Whistlewing and Norbert, and I need to help the Bent-Twigs settle in." Having stared down walking, flying death before (in the form of Earth dragons), Charlie stood his ground and glared at Rake.

Rake was furious, though it was mostly at herself than at the small creature before her. Well, it could be traced back to Charlie, but her reactions were mostly all instinct and that instinct said she should chain Charlie up in her treasure room.

Clenching her talons into tight fists, Rake walked over to a wall and started punching it. Dragon limbs were made for slashing and cutting. They were nigh-indestructible weapons that could shred anything. Using them as punching weapons robbed Rake of most of their power, but gosh was it a satisfying way to work out her anger.

When a hoof pressed to her side, Rake froze and turned to look at Charlie. "What?"

"You're breaking the wall. Come on outside, I want to get this"—Charlie gestured to himself and his almost-completely-a-pony state—"over with."

"You can do magic in here just fine." Rake was following Charlie, though. There was something beyond the raw allure of a giant, walking diamond that interested her. She realized, however, that what sparked her initial words was the desire to keep him here—safe. "Ugh. We both need to get out of here. I'm going hoard-crazy."

"I'm a wizard, Rake, crazy is a benefit to my kind. Speaking of, we need to tell Torch about this. Why not tonight, after I've finished changing?" The hidden tunnel that led out of Rake's lair was familiar to Charlie, who had used it many times now.

Outside, it was mid-afternoon in the dragon lands, which meant it was hot. It was always hot, even in the dead of winter. It was hot underground too, but the heat-haze that met Charlie's vision implied it was an extra hot day. "Where would be a good place to do this? I don't want to call attention to your lair."

Away from most of her hoard, Rake was thinking more like a smart dragon and less like a dumb lizard—or so she would say. "That's why I like you, Charlie. You get this stuff. You must be the only pony ever to just understand how a dragon thinks. It's kinda freaky."

"I keep telling you, I'm not a pony. I'm a wizard, and wizards are humans." Taking Rake's lead, Charlie tried to keep clear of the lava pools—his own heat-tolerance had gone way up since he became a walking diamond, but his clothes were still limited by their fabrics (even if those were enchanted to be more resistant to flame).

Rake shrugged her shoulders—something that was getting harder as she aged into adulthood. She knew it was coming. Soon she wouldn't be able to walk upright at all. "Yeah, yeah. You look like a pony, and that's as far as most dragons will get." 

"You," Charlie said as he dodged another lava pool, "are not most dragons. I can see why Torch is keeping an eye on you."

"Huh?"

"You don't see it? Why do you think he saddled you with me? That was a setup. He's testing how you react to situations outside your normal day-to-day stuff. He wants to see how you handle yourself when things don't go how you want them to go." About to continue with his litany, Charlie paused at the sight of Inferno and Beatrice Bent-Twig both running toward them. "What's u—?"

"The portal's gone!" Beatrice said. "Like, gone-gone. We went up to take a look at it, and when I threw some stones at it they went right through. It should have sucked them up!"

Turning to look at Rake, Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, alright. Get on and let's go take a look. At least it's a distraction from bugging the Dragon Lord." Lowering her talons to the ground, Rake dropped one shoulder to let Charlie climb onto her back.

Having never been given the honor of riding on her back before, Charlie was dubious at first, but when Rake didn't move, he decided he might as well march up and climb on. Her scales were warm, but not unbearably so, but once on her back he realized there was another problem. "Uh, how do I hold on?"

"Carefully, duh." Rake spread her wings on each side of Charlie and then started pumping them to launch herself and her passenger upward—judging Charlie's shouting to be not-quite panic-filled enough to worry about.

Snapping his mouth closed, Charlie grabbed onto Rake's shoulders and did his level-best to keep from being thrown free. Part of him kept panicking while the rest tried to reassure it that Rake would catch him if he fell off. It seemed like no time until Rake was doing a slow spiral, her wings held wide but steady. "What the hell was—Ack!"

"Oh, hey, ash-moths. Not all that tasty, but fill your mouth all the same." Rake chewed on the mouthful of bugs she'd got when she'd opened her mouth. She could hear Charlie spitting and cursing up a storm on her back. "Your portal should be just about here."

The wind had died down, but Charlie knew he should have been feeling a pull toward the portal. "Is it gone or just tiny?"

"Best way to find out, I guess…" Turning on a dime, Rake pumped her wings and flew right through where the portal should have been. Banking and settling back into a circle, Rake shrugged her shoulders. "Nothin'."

Scrabbling to hold on again, thanks to Rake moving her shoulders, Charlie waited until he had a good hold before speaking. "So it's gone?"

"Let's land before you fall off." Rake tipped her head down and entered a dive—grinning all the (short) trip back to the ground. Even as she leveled out and landed, she was smiling.

Flopping sideways off Rake's back, Charlie dropped to all fours and didn't make any attempt to stand up on two legs. "I almost fell off."

"What? When?" Rake asked.

"From the moment I climbed on to when I managed to get free of you." In his head, Charlie was chanting I won't throw up, I won't throw up, over and over. When his body finally believed the chant, he slowly lifted himself to two legs. "So the portal's gone."

"That's what we said." Inferno walked beside Beatrice with only a hint of his former worry. He'd been terrified of hurting her when they'd first met, and even been weirded out by how much she hung out with him, but even that had seemed normal after a while. Besides, she thought he was awesome.

Charlie was about to reply when he spotted something that distracted him completely. He saw Beatrice's pink hands—not just human-flesh pink, but gemstone pink. "You've been using magic?"

"Only a little! Don't tell Mum!" Panic hit Beatrice. She shoved her hands behind her back to hide them, but it was way too late.

"Hey!" Stepping forward and putting himself between Beatrice and Charlie, Inferno jutted out his chin and glared. "Cut her some slack or I'll—" He froze as he realized Rake was standing up beside Charlie, then a spurt of impudent rage spurred him on. "… I'll get angry."

Seeing Rake about to start stomping forward to champion his cause, Charlie barely managed to shout, "Wait! Bea, I won't tell your parents—so long as you tell them."

"What kind of a deal is that? They'll find out either way, and—" Inferno only stopped when he felt Beatrice's hand on his shoulder. "What?"

Beatrice let out a sigh of defeat. "I-I was going to tell them anyway, but—I know Mom was only using magic to help us, but I really wanted to show Inferno some cool stuff." Pulling back the sleeves on her robes, she revealed the pink crystal now covering them all the way to her elbows. "It's kinda cool. I can almost pick up lava with them."

"Pick up—" Charlie lifted his right hand-hoof to his forehead and almost knocked himself out with the clunk of it instead of the soft palm that should have hit him. "Ouch. Look, you need to be more careful, also, we need to talk with your parents about more than that. The portal really is closed."

"We already said that." Inferno put a wing around Beatrice and pulled her protectively to his side. Part of him had no clue why he was doing it, another part was confused as to why he was protecting anything, but the part that held sway insisted she was worth protecting and the rest of him could just shut up and blow lava-bubbles.

Feeling more sure of herself, and a little flustered at the tight grip of Inferno's wing, Beatrice nodded in support of his argument, but knew she was defeated. Charlie was an adult, and adults usually cheated to get what they thought was the right thing. "Alright. I guess we all go, then?"

As they walked toward the edge of the literal active volcanic area, Charlie was surprised to see the makings of a log hut. Working on the hut was Simon and May, each lifting a new log into position to make another wall. 

Spotting Charlie and his daughter approaching, Simon smiled a little wider and heaved the log up to help May get her end lined up. "You got it?"

"Yes."

"Okay, ease it down and… done." Simon nodded in the direction he'd seen company approaching. "We have visitors."

Stepping around the wall they were building and out the doorway, May's eyes widened a little at seeing two dragons, Charlie Weasley, and her eldest daughter approaching. "I'll put the kettle on," she said and then raised her voice. "Would you like a cuppa?"

"I'd kill for one." Charlie put on the best smile he could given his pony muzzle, and looked sideways at Beatrice.

She was defeated. Beatrice wished she could just run off with Inferno and never come back. Then she could use her magic and look awesome too… But that wouldn't work. "Mom, I've been using magic."

"I know, Bea." May had, of course, known. Her daughter had been hiding her hands, and the only thing she could think that to mean was she'd been using magic. A glance at Charlie's face told her he'd probably had to drag her here to confess. "I'm not sure how much you'll believe us, Charlie, but we don't intend to go back. This place is untouched by the petty squabbles between witches and wizards that drove us out into the back-country. I assumed my children would start using magic anyway, sooner or later."

Staring at her mother, Beatrice groaned and pulled her sleeves up to reveal her arms were pink halfway to her elbows. "I wasn't doing any big spells. Just little stuff. I just wanted—"

"I wanted to see what magic was all about." Inferno looked almost as surprised as he felt at taking the blame. It was all stupid, anyway. It wasn't like it mattered. Beatrice liked using magic, or so she'd told him, so she was going to turn into a pony sooner or later.

Looking from her daughter to Inferno, May realized something was growing there. Her motherly instinct wanted her to poke at the friendship, but the part of her that remembers how she'd been treated for dating her husband—Simon the Squib, as he'd been called—beat her metaphorically with a hammer. "What's done is done."

Charlie had to marvel at the poise and attitude May Bent-Twig deployed. He looked at his hands—now hooves—and wished he had a measure of that acceptance. 

After a cup of tea that did a lot to sooth him, Charlie and Rake left the Bent-Twig home-to-be and made their way toward Dragon Lord Torch's lair. Charlie had picked up a little lore on the dragons, and one piece had been that while young lairing dragons would need to protect their home from others, the dragon lord feared not for their hoard. No dragon would be so stupid as to risk their lives on such folly.

So while everyone knew where his lair and hoard were, no dragon would ever steal from him. On the plus side, it meant we could find him easily enough. Of course, as we approached, he wasn't there.

"We wait out here, right?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah we do. Never go into the dragon lord's lair. Ever!" Rake snarled a little, then recoiled from her own anger. "Sorry, I just—This is not easy."

Charlie reached out a hoof and petted at Rake's side. "Yeah, I can tell by the smoke coming out of your nose. Relax, I'm not going inside, and I sure as heck don't want to start a dragon civil war."

Coughing, Rake spat out a glob of flame that burned a soft shade of blue on the stones in front of her. Watching the flame wrought of volatile chemicals spit and hiss as it melted the outer layers of the rock, she let loose her anger. Charlie, after all, was still hers. "You know, the angrier I get at all this stupid hoard stuff, the worse it gets."

"Have you tried not getting angry at it? I mean, you're a dragon. You're supposed to want to hoard stuff."

"Stuff. Not—not people." Dragging her foot across the stone, Rake was marginally pleased that her almost-adult talons lived up to her name and left three deep rents in the stone. "Dragons aren't the smartest because we don't need to be. We have claws and scales and fire—you can't out-think those—but even I know wanting to own you is wrong."

"You need to lighten up, Rake. Don't get angry, just make sure you remember that one thing. Even if your instincts tell you to, you don't have to follow them." Charlie reached down and ran his hoof along the gouge in the volcanic rock Rake had made. "Why is he putting up with us? Humans—well, ponies I mean."

"Dragons have few enemies once they reach adulthood. There are tales of entire nations that decided they needed to attack us and take our land. Those nations aren't around anymore. It's a matter of pride for the great dragons of the world to gather from all corners of the world when our breeding grounds are threatened. Dragon Lord Torch is just one, and though he's the mightiest dragon there is, there's a lot more of us. He can call them all and compel them to fight, but the truth is a dragon doesn't ever need to be compelled.

"What I'm getting at is there's nothing that can hurt an adult dragon." Rake looked at Charlie with a significant glance. "You get the idea?"

"You give this little creature a lot of our secrets, Rake." Torch's voice almost blew both Rake and Charlie away. "It worries me that you don't understand fully how short-lived they are. This creature will barely…" Trailing off, Torch saw Charlie's hands and his eyes narrowed to dots.

Flaring her crest right the way down her back, Rake stepped between Torch and Charlie and puffed smoke out her nose. "Charlie is mine!"

Flexing his claws, Torch pondered the dragon before him. She wasn't even a quarter of his size. She was practically an ant to him, and despite her growing her adult scales and almost reaching that point where a dragon fears nothing—she should still fear him. 

Torch had heard legends of ponies that were made of gems. He never thought he'd see one, but here he was and he was more curious than desirous. "Turning into a crystal pony?" At Rake's gasp, Torch rumbled with laughter. Few were the hatchlings that grew a brain before they left his immediate domain. "There are old stories, passed down from dragon lord to dragon lord, of ponies made from gemstones. Becoming one is new. What of the other creatures that arrived?"

The sound of Torch's voice was accompanied (in Rake's mind) by her confidence evaporating. He wasn't just a step ahead of her, he was three—and he had more control of his need to hoard. "They're turning too. It's using magic that does it."

"Interesting. We should probably contact the ponies and ask them what they know of this. Regardless, how are you feeling about it?" Torch watched as Rake's expression turned from guarded to actively-looking-for-a-reason-to-fly-away. His size was such that he could reach around her—toward Charlie. When she blew white-hot dragonfire at his talons, Torch laughed.

Realizing she'd just attacked the dragon lord, Rake panicked. "I didn't mean—"

"You've got guts and a big problem." Nodding toward Charlie, Torch smirked. "Hoarding."

It was a relief to finally get caught in the act. Rake slumped her shoulders and wings and nodded. "I can't help it. He needed somewhere safe to sleep and I offered my lair. Next thing I know I just can't stop thinking of him as mine."

"Well, that cinches it. What you claim, you keep. He's yours." Torch rolled his shoulders and then wing joints. "Now, I'm going to—"

"But I don't want that!" Scratching up another triple-line of stone, Rake blew flame out of her mouth and nostrils. "It's not right!"

Rounding back on Rake, Torch crouched down so he could show her how tiny she was compared to him—she wasn't even as big as his head. "You, Rake, are a dragon. Only dragons decide what is right for dragons. Dragons take what they want, they keep what they want, and they own what they want. Make your choice and be a dragon!" His voice rose again and again until he was shouting.

Flicking her wings and bracing against the roar of Torch's voice, Rake snarled. She had no idea what to say, though. Charlie couldn't fight her if she did decide to claim him as her hoard, but she still felt that was wrong.

Having been hiding behind Rake, Charlie stepped around her now. "So any dragon can claim something as theirs so long as they can hold it against others?"

"Yes, little pony-creature," Torch said.

"Then it's simple. All of us humans who arrived belong to Rake."





"Why did you say that?!" Rake was literally spitting flames. It was bad enough when it was her own instincts telling her that the giant, walking diamond belonged to her—hearing the diamond itself say it haunted her like the dragon lord's laughter after Charlie had made the announcement.

"Because now no dragon can mess with us. And because I trust you." Finally, understanding the laws of dragons, Charlie felt safe revealing himself. He lifted the cowl of his robes down and let his horned and crystalline head stand free. 

"What are you doing? Cover up or—"

"Or what? The other dragons will see you have a giant gemstone that belongs to you? I'm surprised they don't all turn green with envy." 

His words lit a different flame inside Rake than she had been dealing with. Pride boiled through her blood, and as she looked down at Charlie and saw the light of late afternoon playing through the facets of his head, more rushed up. "This is stupid and it's working."

Laughing, Charlie bowed to Rake as he walked. "That is how almost all magic works, so I guess that makes you a witch." When Rake stuck out her tongue at him, Charlie knew he'd scored a minor victory.

A piercing shriek cut through the air—too high-pitched for normal dragon noises. When Charlie turned his head to look, he was almost pulled from his hooves as Rake took off and started pumping her wings.

"What's going o—Sod it." Leaning forward, Charlie broke into a sprint from a standing start. More dragons were flying toward the origin of the shout. Finding an extra gear of speed, he leaned forward further as his legs flashed under him.

The closer Charlie got to the gathering of dragons, the hotter the ground got. The dragons were each holding eggs—huge things as big as Charlie's head—except for one dragon.

Clutching at broken eggshells, a red-silver dragoness wailed again in loss.

"What happened?" Charlie asked, adrenaline pumping in his body as he looked for a threat. When no dragon answered him, he ran up to Rake. "What happened?"

Holding an egg aloft, Rake's attention was on the ground under her feet. There was the slightest motion. "Lava wyrms. They—they burrow under our nests."

Realization sank in. Charlie looked between all the dragons holding eggs and the one clutching at just shells. His blood ran cold (or as cold as it could while standing on rock that's just above a magma flow). They ate the unhatched dragons. 

Thoughts and ideas ran through Charlie's head. The dragons, for all their might and power, were vulnerable the younger they were. "Wh-What do they look like?"

The ground trembled again, but this time it was from the roar of a dragon. Torch landed—scattering the gathered dragons and Charlie. "This hatching ground is compromised!" Reaching up with a talon that was a bigger weapon than any living creature should possess, he brought it down in an arc and ripped through stone, magma, and a worm. "Revenge!"

While Torch worked, Charlie could only watch on in amazement. What had been a section of rock surrounded by lava pools that only varied in height by a few feet was now a crater with lava pooling at its base—and still he dug.

The dragons around Charlie were all cheering and roaring in excitement, but he noticed they still clutched the eggs and wouldn't put them down. When Torch finally stopped digging and climbed out of the crater that was rapidly filling with lava, Charlie turned to Rake. "What now? Where do you put the eggs?"

"There is no alternate hatching ground at the moment. Each dragon will take an egg and keep it safe until the dragon lord finds somewhere new. This"—Rake gestured to the new lava pool—"was too much. Any dragon lost is too much."

Standing silently as the dragons dispersed, Charlie turned with Rake and started walking back to her lair. Normally they'd take a more indirect route, but no dragon was feeling their oats enough to try raiding another lair, nor did Rake feel the need to dissuade anyone. 

Charlie watched as Rake curled up on her treasure hoard—coiled around the egg—and climbed up too to lay against her. There was no magic between them that Charlie could discern, but even so he wasn't focusing on that. 

How can I help them? Charlie thought. What can I—can any of us—do to keep the eggs warm and away from the lava wyrms?





For six days Charlie and Rake guarded the egg. They each curled around it when they slept to be sure it didn't get cold, but no matter how hot their bodies were—the egg needed to be hotter.

"You care for them too." Rake sounded only mildly surprised. "I mean, you were kinda showing you were, but you really care for them."

Still with the egg against his belly, Charlie looked up at Rake. "Of course I do. They deserve a chance at life. What can those lava wyrms burrow through? Rock? What about actual lava?"

The questions made Rake think. "They burrow into the lava tubes right under our eggs, so they don't fear lava. They have diamond-hard teeth, but the rest of them is soft. Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know so we can stop them. So we can make a hatching ground that's safe from them." Standing up, Charlie ran a hoof carefully over the egg. "I need to test some things and I'll need some help. Can you get another dragon to look after this egg?"

Rake grumbled. "It's an honor to be given an egg to look after."

"Those eggs—those young dragons—that died… I want them to be the last ever." Looking at Rake, Charlie felt a fire boil up inside him. "And I will make that so with your help."

The cold, raw certainty in Charlie's words shocked Rake to her core. It was true nothing could harm a dragon once they had their adult scales, but she realized she might have to revise that to exclude the words of wizards. "Yeah, I can. And it will probably be the same place you'll want to go to at some point, so let's go there first."

Charlie had been a little confused at first, but when he walked with Rake to the Bent-Twig home, he realized Rake's words had been correct in all ways. Beatrice Bent-Twig was holding her wand between her teeth and slinging fire spells at Inferno, who dodged, deflected, or just bore them before sending his own flame back at her. 

Rake admired the dance the pair were doing. It wasn't like normal dragon roughhousing, but she could appreciate that her little brother preferred using his flame over his fists. She looked at Beatrice with a little focus and realized she was more pony than when last they'd seen each other. "Hey, Inferno?"

Turning his attention away from Beatrice, Inferno looked at his big sister just as a firebolt slammed into the side of his head. "What's up?"

Noticing Beatrice had been firing off lots of spells, Charlie was amazed she hadn't changed more. Her hands and feet were hooves, her face was now drawn out into a snout, and she was now completely made out of pink crystal, but unlike Charlie it seemed to have stopped.

"Can you look after this egg for us?" It stung Rake's pride to have to ask it, but at the same time she could see the value of helping Charlie work on his solution. "I trust you to take care of it while we figure a way to stop the magma wyrms."

"Wait, you trust me that much?" The concept of such trust was alien to Inferno—at least so far as his sister was concerned. "I mean, sure. What's your plan with the wyrms?" Walking up to his sister, he reached with a wing and his arms to take the egg and cradle it. He might be young and impulsive, but eggs weren't something you messed with.

"We need to find something they can't burrow through but that we can heat." Charlie walked closer to Inferno and looked up at him. The realization he'd shrunk a little more in the last week hit Charlie, but he shoved it aside in favor of the current problem he could solve.

Inferno was staring at the egg in his grip, having unconsciously pulled it tighter against his body and increased his body temperature to protect it. "They can bite through anything. Stone, lava, even ore is easy for them." 

"Wait, ore? How do you know all this?" Rake asked.

"Kinda messed with 'em a few times. You know, dig one up and put it on different stuff to see what it would do. Never saw anything they couldn't bite through."

"Including young dragons, you idiot. Okay, so it's a bust, then?" Rake looked at Charlie only briefly, but she immediately felt a need to protect him from threats. 

"There was one thing they didn't like. It didn't stop them burrowing down, though." Inferno stretched his other wing out and around Beatrice's back when she walked close enough. "I'm not going to make you yell at me to tell you, because this is—"

Rake's patience ran dry. "Just tell us! Ugh!"

Inferno smirked. "Sand. They had to quickly shove it aside, but they had trouble because it got all over them. I figure if they have trouble burrowing down into it, they might have trouble burrowing up through it."

"We need to test that." Charlie's mind raced ahead, trying to imagine how to use the sand against the wyrms and still keep the eggs hot enough. "Where can we find some of the wyrms?"

"Wyrms… There's some by the old quarry. There're some birds nesting there and the wyrms try to get to them before the birds can flap away." Giving Beatrice a little squeeze, Inferno looked at his sister. "I heard about what he said, you know. Every dragon did."

"Yeah, well, I told him he was an idiot for saying it. It's stupid and messed up and—"

"And it will work. Apart from Dragon Lord Torch, you're the biggest and baddest dragon around here. You know half of the others know where your stash is, right?" The moment Inferno said it, he realized he'd messed up.

"They know where my hoard is?!" Spreading her wings and spilling liquid fire from her mouth, Rake spun around to look in the direction of her lair. 

"Yeah, and they wouldn't touch your stuff in a thousand years. You're the only dragon here who just walk up to Torch with a problem and not have a reasonable expectation of dying. You look tough, sis, because you are tough. Watch the flames, by the way."

"How long have they known?"

"Since way before these guys showed up. It wasn't Charlie that gave you away. You know, don't you, that if you pull this off and work out a way to protect the eggs—no dragon would ever touch your lair ever again. They"—Inferno nodded to the Bent-Twig cabin—"would be so far off-limits to mess with no dragon would even look them in the eyes."

Getting her anger under control took a few moments, but Rake had been getting a lot of practice lately. She looked at Charlie. "Yeah. Great. Come on, let's find that spot." Walking up to a surprised Charlie, Rake crouched down and lowered her shoulder.

Scrambling up onto Rake's back, Charlie looked back at Inferno with some surprise. The younger dragon had made no attempt to hide his affection for Beatrice, which either meant he didn't fear her mother and father (doubtful) or they were okay with him (Charlie would have thought this was equally unlikely, but after May's comment about becoming settled here, he had to admit it was a possibility).

The moment she felt Charlie get secure on her back, Rake spread her wings and launched into the air with her powerful back legs.

Beatrice tilted her head and inhaled the sharp, metallic smell of Inferno. "You'll let me ride on your back when you get a bit bigger, right?"

"So long as you shrink a bit. I thought you said casting fire spells all day would turn you into a pony?" Letting go of Beatrice, Inferno took a few steps away and braced himself again.

"I don't get it. We've been doing this for two days now. How much magic does it take?" She drew her wand with a hoof, somehow managing to hold it with the crease under her hoof. "You ready?"

"Let me have it, Bea."

Charlie turned his head back from watching Beatrice unloading fire spells at Inferno just in time to see Norbert and Whistlewing swoop in to flank Rake. "Hey, guys, how's the hunting today?"

Neither Norbert nor Whistlewing were truly intelligent, but they'd learned fast enough that Equestrian dragons were not to be messed with. Nothing either had done—in the rare moments they'd actually gotten to test their claws on one without repercussion—had ever managed to hurt an Equestrian dragon, and for alpha predators that was annoying. 

Whistlewing ignored the dragon she couldn't so much as hurt and scanned the ground below. She'd learned a few things about the dragons—one being that they didn't scare prey away because they didn't hunt! She spotted a rabbit and stooped into a dive.

There was no hope for the bunny. One moment it was looking around for some tasty grass, the next it had been jerked from the ground so quickly that its neck had broken from whiplash.

Norbert grumbled at Whistlewing getting a snack, but then Charlie tossed a piece of meat into the air and hit it with his wand. Swerving gleefully, Norbert grabbed the venison leg out of the air, missing Whistlewing getting her own. Not that he cared she got a joint as well since he'd learned to share—mostly.

Spiraling down to the cliffs under her, Rake saw the bird colonies in little nooks and crannies, but there were too many birds for the choice niches on the cliff. Some of the birds had been forced to less desirable perches on the flat ground at the bottom of the cliff, and that's where Rake saw the ground start to twitch.

"We need sand," Charlie said.

Pointing with a forelimb, Rake jinked her wings a little and made a sharp turn to the side of the old quarry. Landing, she stomped her feet a few times. "Doesn't seem to be any wyrms here."

Dropping down from Rake's back, Charlie crouched and ran his hooves through the sand. "This will do, but we need the wyrms over here or the sand over there." A sinking feeling filled him as he knew this was going to need magic. "A modified Gouging spell should do the trick."

"Giving you some room." Rake stepped back from Charlie, but not so far as she couldn't pounce if one of the wyrms decided to make a meal of him. She watched as he gestured with his wand, shouted something, and gestured over his shoulder. 

Normally the spell would clear rock and dirt from around a target, but Charlie had targeted the quarry itself and singled out the sand as being not wanted. Magic was all about patterns and intent, and he was pretty good with the former and right now he was focused on the latter.

A veritable fountain of sand shot into the air, but tilted toward where the wyrms were ambushing birds. While that happened, the magic force pouring through Charlie was enough to finally seal the deal. His spine and legs shifted just a little—enough that he'd be stuck walking on all fours as the default now. The biggest problem for this was that when he fell forward, his hoof came down hard on his wand.

The sound of snapping wood caused Charlie to lay his ears back flat and yanked a whine from his throat. "My wand…"

"You really needed that thing?" Rake asked. 

What surprised Charlie was that his spell was still going, but rather than his broken wand, it was pulling at his magic through his horn. "I—I thought I did. You said ponies do magic with their horns?" 

"Something like that. I don't think they wear 'em for decoration." Rake froze when she saw the first movement of a wyrm in the sand among the bird roosts. "Jump on, I think it's working."

Sucking up his loss, and grabbing the two broken pieces of wand to shove in his robe, Charlie jumped up on Rake's back while she walked over to where the sand was twitching and shifting. When a wyrm poked its head out (expecting a bird to eat), the sand rushed in on top of it. More and more sand poured into the tunnel and the wyrm was left no option than to burrow back down its tunnel.

"That worked." Charlie was about to jump down and look closer, but realized how unwise that might be. He might look like he was made of stone, but these wyrms chewed through stone. "Can you lean down closer, Rake?"

Peering close, the sand didn't just annoy the wyrm, it poured into its tunnel and literally chased it away. "This is great. Look how they wig out and try to get away, but the sand follows them down."

The sight of the wyrm trying desperately to get away from the sand brought a sadistic smile to Rake's lips. "So we have dragons constantly pour sand around our eggs?" 

Smirking, Charlie shook his head. "It's a start. The sand will even be a good way to keep the eggs warmer. The best bit? That nesting ground Torch slagged will be perfect to fill up with sand."





Asking dragons to do something that didn't directly benefit them, Charlie discovered, was never going to get them to do it. It wasn't long until he realized why—they were all young dragons. While they had an instinctual need to guard the eggs, helping with Charlie and Rake's project wasn't so hard-wired.

"You're not doing it right. Can I do it my way now?" Rake had spent an hour lashing her tail in annoyance at Charlie asking all the dragons to help fill the old hatching ground's crater with sand. 

"Alright. You ain't half pushy, Rake." Walking beside her, Charlie considered his options. "We could just tell the dragon lord what—"

"No. If we tell him, we look good in his eyes and every other dragon resents us. We get it done without him and he finds out what we did, we can say 'All the others helped'," Rake said.

"Help with what?" Ember landed beside Charlie and looked between him and Rake. "I've seen you two talking to a bunch of dragons. What's the deal?"

Charlie hadn't heard Ember until she'd spoken and startled a little at having another dragon just suddenly there. The effect was worse now that he was stuck on all fours. "W—"

Reaching out carefully with her wing, Rake folded it over Charlie's head. "We need to get a few more dragons to do something important. You know anyone you can get to do it?"

"How important?"

Pulling her wing back from Charlie, Rake blew out an annoyed gout of flame and rolled her eyes at Ember. "Protecting the eggs important. You know anyone or should I find a dragon who knows their duty?"

"Keep your scales on, Rake. I'll find some dragons to help. What are we doing?" Intrigued now that Rake wasn't trying to take all the glory, Ember was intensely curious. She well knew her father didn't plan on being dragon lord forever, and she was planning to snatch that victory. Part of that would be making sure Rake didn't want to be dragon lord.

"You're not going to believe me if I tell you, but what the flame. We're moving sand into the crater Torch made. We need a lot of sand, which will be easier to deal with if we have a lot of dragons moving it. I don't want anyone who's looking after an egg, so you might want to organize the other younger dragons." Rake didn't bother waiting for Ember's reply, she turned her head and started marching away.

Left to either follow Rake or hang around with Ember, Charlie trotted to catch up to Rake. "You dragons really don't do much that isn't selfish, do you?"

Rake laughed, loosing a blast of flame from her mouth in the process. "It's the dragon way. Dragons are born only doing the bare minimum to get what they want, and it gets worse with age." 

"You're the biggest dragon here apart from Torch, aren't you?" While Rake nodded, Charlie tried to work out how to say what he needed to and not offend her. "How big do you need to get before you leave?"

"It's not about size." Size was something Rake had on her mind lately, though. Since finishing her last molt, her skin was flexible enough and her scales densely packed enough that she could grow more fully—and grow she had. She could feel her gait having become a little more purpose-built for quadrupedal, so much so that now she stuck to that. "It's about mindset. A dragon isn't truly an adult until they have a—until they get it fixed in their mind that nothing else really matters than themselves."

Wincing, Charlie looked up at Rake, trying to get an idea of what she was thinking. "And you?"

"Torch has been trying. At first he alienated me from the other dragons—which wasn't that hard to do given my size. I think he's the one who told 'em all about where my lair is. That's backfired, though, because most of 'em wouldn't even want to get into my lair and the rest aren't that stupid. You know, I think he expected you to screw up or something so he could kill you after we'd become—" Rake bit back the word. It wasn't a draconic word at all, but she had to say it in case Charlie got the wrong idea. "… friends."

It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. Charlie had been living with the dragons for a few weeks now. The depths of their practical ruthlessness shouldn't surprise him, but he was an optimist. "Harsh, but I get where he's coming from. What about you? You don't seem—" Charlie tried to fish for a word that meant exactly narcissistic. When he wound up collecting three sentences to describe it, he gave up. "… narcissistic."

"What's that mean?"

Charlie sighed. "Narcissism means loving yourself to the exclusion of all else in an unhealthy way."

"Well, for dragons it is healthy, and I do. Well, sometimes. You're just seeing my best side."

"Huh?"

Rake rolled her eyes, and when that wasn't enough she rolled her whole head. "Every time I look at you, Charlie, my brain clicks that you are my hoard. Having you as a—as a friend only makes me more narco—that word." 

"Bull-crap, Rake. When we first met, you didn't have me as your possession, and you were still fine hanging out with me and talking about stuff." A dysfunctional dragon that was too nice to be considered an adult? Charlie had dealt with stranger people—he'd dealt with wizards and witches. "And don't tell me that was because you'd been ordered to."

"He would have—"

"I told you not to try that. We're friends, aren't we Rake?"

Looking around herself—left, right, behind, up—Rake hung her head. "Yeah."

"I won't tell anyone."

Jerking her head back to look at Charlie, Rake felt even more conflicted now. "Why?"

It was Charlie's turn to roll his eyes. "Because that's what friends do. They look out for each other. We have the perfect excuse to hang out, and no dragon would do more than think something bad about you, so why not just accept it and keep up the charade until we get out of here?" 

"Huh? You're asking more questions than you're answering."

"Well, you don't want to hang around here any longer, do you?" Charlie gestured around with his hoof.

"N-No. But I—"

Charlie straightened up and started walking in the direction of a few young dragons hanging out by a lava pool. "Then let's get this done and leave. I don't know if the Bent-Twigs will want to leave with us, but they probably should. You definitely should. How long until Torch gives up?" 

That made Rake pause and really think. The idea that she wasn't needed at the nursery wasn't new, but she wondered if Torch would actually fight her to get her to leave. It was, for her, terrifying. Torch could literally just command her to leave and she'd have no way of saying no—but he didn't use his power like that. "Yeah. I think you might be right. We—we should talk to the Bent-Twigs."

"You should talk to Torch. Tell him you're ready to leave. Tell him you're taking all your possessions and will find somewhere you can focus on being you." 

Rake barked a laugh at that, spilling a little liquid flame from her throat. "Okay, I like that. He'll probably catch on quickly enough to be annoyed, but I think he'll just be happy to see the last of me. I was starting to wonder if he'd just make me dragon lord and leave himself."

"If you're right, he wouldn't do that because you're not an adult in his eyes." Charlie reached the edge of the lava pool and marveled at how little the intense heat affected him. His robes have long been enchanted against heat damage (given his profession, a necessity), but that didn't help his own body. A crystal pony, he was happy to discover, could tolerate extremes of temperature far better than a human could. "Hey, come and help make the new hatchery. We need to move a pile of sand to make this work."

"Now you're getting it," Rake said to Charlie. She turned her attention to the youngsters. "Come on, you runts, you're not looking after an egg, but that doesn't mean you get out of protecting them."

"Ugh, whatever. Come on, guys, let's do what Rake says or she'll sic her pony on us." Garble reached out and yanked his little sister from the pool. "You too, Smolder." Rather than handle her with care, like a pony would, Garble literally threw Smolder out of the pool.

"Why's it gotta be sand? I hate moving sand." A constant plume of noxious (even to dragons, though only adolescents) smoke trickled from Fume's snout—just like always. "Can't we just use lava and let it cool?"

When Charlie opened his mouth, he realized he'd been about to give a detailed description of why sand was the only thing that would work. No, he thought. Say it like a dragon would. "It has to be sand."

"Yeah, dumb-ass, of course it has to be sand." Garble punched Fume in the shoulder. "Didn't you hear Rake's pony?"

Biting back any reply he might give, Charlie had to remind himself that this was exactly why he'd made the pronouncement. They wouldn't mess with him because he belonged to Rake, and Rake was bigger and tougher than them. Pausing a moment before he walked off, he had to admit that Rake was also smarter and nicer than them too, but they were dragons. "Just follow us and don't screw this up. It's for the eggs."

There wasn't much that would actually rein in Garble's assholery, but that was one of them. "Yeah. Right." Even he barely recognized his voice as he said the words, but they were eggs. If there was one thing all dragons did, it was take care of eggs. Eggs were how a dragon started, and if another dragon hadn't cared about protecting eggs, no dragon would be around.

When they reached the crater, Charlie pointed at it with a hoof. "I don't care where you get it from, but we need this full of sand. It needs to be actual sand, not gravel, not a huge rock with a little sand on it—actual sand. There's some at the old quarry, but not enough. Any of you who can fly should probably go to a beach and start digging it up."

Rake could see Fume didn't really enjoy taking orders from Charlie, so figured she'd lean her weight in on his side. "Garble, take Smolder and get her to start digging up a beach. Bring back whatever she digs up and dump it in here. Fume, you can fly too, try and get as much here as you can. I don't care how you have to carry it, just get it here. Got it?"

The moment Garble, Fume, Clump, and Smolder left, Ember landed with a dozen dragons behind her. "What are we doing?" Ember asked.

"Filling that hole with sand. Dragons past their first molt can carry it from a beach, split the rest between staying at the beach to dig it up and being here to spread it out." Rake pointed with one immense wing in the direction Garble and his group went. "Garble went that way, if you go there, try to get it from a different section of beach."

As soon as that group of dragons had left, Torch picked that moment to crash his mass against the ground almost right beside Charlie. "We need to talk, pony." He turned and started walking away from Rake, hoping he didn't have to thump the younger dragon to make her realize he only meant Charlie.

Looking from Torch to Charlie, Rake felt conflicted. She got that Torch wanted to talk to Charlie alone, but her draconic instincts hated that her hoard was walking off with another dragon. That Torch was the dragon lord was annoying in the extreme because she had to follow his commands. Then there was a new side of her that liked having Charlie as a friend, and that part swore that if Torch hurt him, she'd hurt Torch.

Giving Rake one last look, Charlie walked off with Torch and finally stopped when the colossal dragon did. "This is about Rake?"

"Partly, but mostly about you ordering dragons around." Torch used his mass to shield his voice from reaching Rake. "Do it again and I'll kill you. Dragons shouldn't get used to being ordered around by anything but another dragon. Let Rake do the ordering. Got it?"

"Yeah." Debating with himself whether to say more, Charlie ended up going with his gut. "You've been trying to get her to leave, haven't you?"

Raising one eye ridge, Torch nodded his head slowly. "Rake is too attached to this place, too attached to her brother and you, pony."

"And what if I said I finally got through to her that in owning us, she is finally an adult dragon?" Charlie didn't bother looking up at Torch's head—the dragon towered over him so much that all it would do is give him a sore neck trying.

Torch thought on the idea and found it fit with what would cause an adult dragon to want to leave the spawning grounds. "Interesting. You say giving her something to be prideful and hoard was key? Yes, I can see that. So she's taking all of you with 'er?" 

Charlie snorted. "She'll try. Can't say it'd be a bad idea. Having ponies around seems to have put you on edge. Nothing against you, Dragon Lord Torch, but I don't want to be within a continent of you on edge."

"Ha! Well put. It's good to see some ponies have sense. What are you doing here, anyway?" Gesturing to the direction they'd come—the new crater—Torch turned and started walking back toward it.

"Solving your problem with magma wyrms. They hate sand getting in their tunnels, so if you put the eggs on the hot sand, the wyrms won't get them." Walking back, Charlie could see the first few dragons arriving with sand. "I might need to cast a spell or two to keep the sand replenished, but that won't be a problem."

"Interesting, but we aren't going to test it with an egg. If you thing it works, why don't you sleep here?" Torch grinned, knowing that would be the ultimate test of the plan. "Damn wyrms are attracted to anything that isn't an adult dragon—so long as it doesn't move."

Rake, hearing the last of the conversation—at least Torch's side of it—felt her possessive side rise up and she looked at the massive dragon, snarling. "Why should I risk my pony?"

That was exactly what Torch wanted to hear. He grinned at the thought that Rake was—as the last of her generation still at the nesting ground—about to leave. "Then sleep out here too for all I care." Spreading his wings, Torch paused a moment. "You're leavin'?"

Glaring at Charlie, Rake nodded. "I think it's time to take what's mine and leave."

Torch felt pride that his plan of linking Rake and an outsider together had worked. It hadn't gone quite as he planned it, but the results spoke for themselves. "Well spoken, Rake. You are truly a dragon worthy of respect now." With that, he spread his wings and nearly knocked Charlie, Rake, and another adolescent dragon (running through the forest with its wings cupping a huge load of sand) over, Torch almost laughed. If it had only been Rake and Charlie, he would have.

Watching Torch fly off, Rake let out a long, deep breath. It would have seemed a very human gesture except a small torrent of thick smoke came out with it. "You told him." She should have been angry with Charlie, except she knew Torch would be happy with that.

"Not without getting information from him. Also, I think I made him more amiable about it. I still think he wanted you to kill me." Charlie walked down the edge of the crater and found the sand that filled the bottom. "If I'm going to use magic to do this, I need the crater to be full exactly as much as we want it to always be."

"Weirdly specific, but that's magic. Come on, we might as well help them carry this sand. It will speed things up." Rake lowered her shoulder and held out her forelimb to let Charlie climb onto her shoulders.

It took most of the day, but they eventually had the crater filled to the top with sand. Hot sand, now—the lava flows were close to the surface already, and they were steadily heating the sand up more and more. Walking out along the surface, Charlie could feel the growing temperature of the sand. "This will be perfect. Now for the curse."

"Curse?" Ember glared at Charlie. "What do you mean, 'curse'?"

"Just the type of spell. It's called a Gemino curse because it's normally a negative effect—a bad thing. My brother showed me this one because he had to deal with it so much. Check this out." Picturing the spell in his mind, Charlie drew his  broken wand out with one hoof (he still had no clue how he managed to hold it, but he could), realized what he'd done, then aimed his horn at the sand pile under him. "The trick is making it so only the wyrm's cause it to trigger."

The spell, once Charlie had cast it, was extremely anticlimactic for Rake. She'd expected some big show of glowing lights or thundercracks echoing around the mountains. Instead she watched a pony do some kind of dance on a pile of warm sand. "Is that it?"

"Yeah. If any of the magma wyrms touch any of the sand, any sand they touch will duplicate—over and over again. Basically, it will chase them as far as they try to burrow until it drowns them in their tunnels." Even just standing on the surface, Charlie could feel the spell bubbling under him as it awaited a trigger.

"Well, let's get a wyrm and drop it on top to test it," Ember said.

Charlie stared at the young dragoness. That had been a stroke of genius that he hadn't considered. "Right. That's the best way to test it." Turning to Rake, Charlie smirked. "Looks like we don't have to sleep out here after all. Come on, let's find one of the wyrms at the old quarry."

One was optimistic. Every dragon that could fly rushed to the quarry and stomped around until a magma wyrm reached the surface. Apparently, Charlie learned, encouraging dragons to hunt wasn't a difficult thing.

Flying back, the group had managed to source five of the wyrms between them. Walking out onto the sand, Garble was the first one to toss his wyrm out. The moment it touched the sand, the gritty stuff started to bubble and boil around it. The wyrm screamed and tried to burrow into the sand, but this only buried it faster. 

"What happened?" Garble asked. "Did it get away?"

Charlie changed a quick spell and reached into the sand—grabbed the magma wyrm—and pulled it to the surface. It wasn't moving. "How's that?"

"Ha!" Garble snatched the wyrm out of Charlie's magical grip. "It got some of the sand inside it."

It hadn't occurred to Charlie that the wyrm's would breathe or swallow the sand, but when he watched Garble slice the wyrm in half with a talon, a pile of sand leaked out. "Wow."

"Nice work, pony." Ember petted Charlie on the shoulder. "This is pretty cool. The only thing left to test is if it's hot enough to hatch eggs. Even if it's not, we can always pipe some more lava here."

"Well, we did it, Charlie. Even if Torch wants to be a stick-in-the-magma, we made this place safe for dragon eggs. Let's go and see the Bent-Twigs." Rake lowered her shoulder automatically now.

Ember's anger flashed, which for a dragon meant that something was probably going to end up on fire soon. "What do you mean? What did my dad say?"

"Torch said he wouldn't let you put the eggs back here. Something about wanting to make sure it was safe by having a dragon spend the night laying on it." It was a calculated risk, Charlie knew, but he planned to be gone before Torch would be able to get angry about it. "Come on, Rake, I think I can work something out so you can bring all your hoard with you."

Propelling herself into the air, Rake made for the Bent-Twig's cabin without the slightest bit of delay. She could have bathed in the thermal updrafts of the active volcano, but she had business to take care of. When she landed, she could see Inferno and Beatrice sitting side by side talking—it was the perfect moment to destroy. Crashing into the ground with enough force to drive her feet into deep divots, Rake called out, "Hey, Inferno, I'm leaving today."

Twisting to look at his sister, Inferno could have growled, but realized what she'd said was more important than her interrupting what Beatrice had been trying to teach him. "What?"

"Torch wasn't going to put up with me for much longer, and I don't want to put up with him, either. So we're leaving. Where's your parents?" The last bit Rake said to Beatrice, having understood that in their family creatures' parents make the decisions.

"Huh?" Beatrice stared dumbly at Rake, then at Charlie as he climbed off her back. "You mean we're all going?"

"Well, if you don't, you'll need to find another dragon to claim you and fight for you," Charlie said.

"Inferno can." It seemed so perfect to Beatrice. "Won't you?" The last bit she asked of Inferno, but she watched the scales of his face pale.

"I-I mean, I could, but then if another dragon roughed you up or took one of you, I'd have to fight them. Rake—Rake's so far above all the others now they wouldn't dare mess with you, but if she leaves…" Inferno looked between his sister and Beatrice.

"Mom and Dad are back at the house. Come on." Beatrice felt betrayed, but at the same time she'd learned that dragons put a lot of stock into fighting. She knew that if Inferno wanted to, he could beat her up without much fuss. She also knew that there were other dragons that could beat him up.

Inferno stood up and held the egg he'd been looking after. He looked at it a moment then held it out to Rake. "You'd better take this back, sis. If Torch gets angry at you for something, he wouldn't dare hurt you for fear of harming an egg."

"You could come with us, Inferno." The words, Rake could see, caused shock on Inferno's face. "Oh come on, I've seen how you and Bea look at each other. It might be whelp-love, but it's still love. If they're coming with us, there's a spot for you too." Rake carefully tucked the egg up against her side with her wing. 

When she heard a big dragon approaching her cabin, May looked out the door to see who it was. "Simon, it's Rake and Charlie." She stepped out and smiled—completely ignoring how her feet were now hooves. It had taken a little bit of spellcasting to get their home just right, but it was well worth it. "Hello Rake, Charlie."

Rake strained to keep back her breath from spilling out too much. "Hello, May." When she saw Simon come out too, she nodded to him. "Simon. I'm leaving the dragon lands."

"And hello to you too. Leaving? For a particular reason?" Simon wasn't a wizard, but he'd grown up as part of the wizarding world, and had a rough grasp of how things worked. The dragons of this world seemed to have their own system, but it worked on similar logic.

"Yeah. Torch'll probably kill me trying to get me to leave on my own, and Charlie gave me some pretty good reasons to get out of here. You can come with me if you want. We're—uh—not exactly sure where we're going, but now the portal's gone and Torch is angry, I figure we might just head east along the coast and see what we can find."

May and Simon both turned to look at Charlie. Given he was the resident dragon expert (even if they were a world away from the dragons he was strictly an expert in), they wanted to hear what he would suggest. Plus, if he was going too, they didn't want to hang around with a bunch of dragons they didn't have any ties to.

"I'm going with Rake. I don't exactly want to be around here when the next dragon gets to the point where I look like a big gem to hoard." Looking at Beatrice Bent-Twig, Charlie then looked back to her parents. "It was okay with Rake here, but you're all going to start looking like a combination of snack and property soon, and without an adult dragon here to tell the others to sod off, you could be in trouble."

Turning to look at the little log cabin they'd built, Simon Bent-Twig let out a sigh. "It was a nice little house, but I think we need bigger." He looked at his wife with a knowing grin and a pair of waggling eyebrows.

"What about you?" Charlie asked Inferno. "Coming or staying?"

Blowing out what would normally be a little smoke—but for him was a pair of blue-green jets of flame—Inferno tried not to glance at Beatrice. He failed, and found himself looking at Beatrice and felt a burning heat rumble inside him. "I guess I'll come too. All the dragons around here are either idiots or still hatchlings. Most of them are both."

May caught Inferno's look at her daughter and managed to keep her smile hidden until she could justifiably turn away from him. "So, when are we leaving?"

"As soon as I can test an idea for packing up Rake's hoard so we can bring it with us." Looking askance at Rake, Charlie saw her very excited grin. The amount of fangs she showed should have been terrifying, but it really didn't bother him at all. "And I need to find Norbert and Whistlewing."

"Well, we need to pack up all our things in here and get ready to start hauling them." Simon looked around at his family, then nodded at Inferno. "Do you have anything you want to bring?"

Again Inferno glanced at Beatrice. "Nah. I don't really have anything here, ya know? Only thing dragons usually keep is gems. Do you need help with anything?" It was novel for Inferno to offer his assistance to anyone, but something he'd learned from the Bent-Twigs was that working together could do some pretty amazing things.

"Thank you for asking, Inferno. I think I have something for a big, strong dragon to help me with." May knew teenagers were full of pride and had learned dragons were too—so playing to a teen dragon's pride, she understood, would get things done.





Flying on Rake's back had somehow become Charlie's new normal. He never once attempted to steer her—mostly because he hadn't worked out how to fly without a broom. As they circled down to land at the entrance to Rake's lair, Charlie could already feel something wrong. 

All of Rake's attention was on the entrance to her lair. Her hoard, inside, sang an odd note in her mind—there was another dragon near it. "Stay close to me, and if I get in a fight, stay where I can see you." Unlike her brother, Rake didn't usually leak fire from her mouth most of the time, but right now she was so furious that blue-white flame tickled at the corners of her mouth. She started to stalk inside.

Garble froze at the sounds coming from the entrance. He had overheard Charlie and Rake talking to Torch earlier and, after seeing them fly away, figured he should take a look around an older dragon's lair. When he saw flashing light—from a breath of flame—in the outer cavern, Garble realized he may have jumped the gun a little early. "Rake! This isn't what you think!"

The voice echoed around Rake. "Garble? You picked a bad day to move fast. Where are you hiding, little dragon?" Turning her head, Rake looked down a dead-end tunnel that she made sure she trod as often as she could—just to be a fake-out. Inhaling deeply, she was about to unload when a red face poked around the corner.

The sight of his death, a bulging draconic throat and anger-filled eyes, had Garble shaking. "Rake! Please! I thought you'd left already! I heard you tell Torch you were leaving, and then I saw you fly off with your pony. I just—I just wanted to see what your lair was like."

The pleading tone combined with how small Garble looked—his face lit in blue/white flame from Rake's mouth—caused Rake to back off a little. "Stay here. If you try to fly off, I'll hunt you down—lair-thief."

Charlie was quick to take off after Rake as she headed down the series of tunnels and forks to reach her hoard room. He noticed her sniffing a lot before she let out a great sigh. "He didn't come down here?"

"He's just a runt. He should be the same size as me, but something is holding him back even more than I was. Wait in here and I'll drive him off." Rake turned, her body curling past Charlie but not quite touching him as she stalked back to confront Garble.

Turning toward the pile of gems, Charlie left Rake to her own devices while he did his thing. "First I need some light." A light spell was simple, but instead of making his wand-tip glow, he made his horn glow instead. He'd seen a few of the muggle-born wizards and witches using little lights attached to their heads to work on fine details. "Muggles have a lot of good ideas, and some of them can be downright sensible."

A shrinking charm, on non-living objects, was not a hard thing to cast. Making it affect a big pile of gemstones at the same time was a lot harder. "Well, might as well do this." Focusing down his lit horn, Charlie aimed the Shrinking charm at the center of the pile and started pouring magic into the spell.

The effect wasn't completely unlike watching popcorn burst, only in complete reverse. Charlie watched as gems the size of his hoof popped and became tiny little pebble-shaped stones. Unlike popcorn, there was no increase in the rate of the stones popping, just a steady effect until the entire pile was small enough to be scooped into the hood of Charlie's robes—which he'd cut free and fashioned into a bag with a bit of twine around the opening.

Rake, having taken care of Garble in the least-deadly-but-still-a-lesson-in-adulthood way she could, had watched the final moments as her hoard was reduced to a tiny pile of pebbles that could have fit in one claw. She felt lessened, though the link to all those gems was still strong. "We need to find a new lair quickly. I don't like not having all my gems to look at."

Securing the gems in his biggest pocket in his robes, Charlie walked over to Rake and grinned up at her. "Your hoard is safe, Rake. I will take care of it for you until you an find another suitable lair. As a wizard I promise to do everything I can to—"

The ground shook and stones started falling from the cave ceiling. "RAKE!"

Instinctively stretching a wing over Charlie, Rake watched as the entire cave was ripped apart by Torch. "What are you doing?!"

"What'd you do with your hoard, Rake?!" Torch didn't have a lot of delights in life, but the one greedy thing he allowed himself was to pick over the hoards of departing, newly adult, dragons.

Rake looked for the Bloodstone Scepter, but couldn't see it. He wasn't going to compel her to tell him. "What hoard?"

"You have spent three years guarding this lair. I've watched you digging in the old quarry, finding gems here and there and hiding them. Don't think I didn't! Now, where are they?" His eyes darting around, Torch looked for anything that might give away the location of Rake's hoard. "It's deeper, isn't it?"

Feeling on a high from dealing with Garble, still, Rake didn't so much as glance at Charlie. "You remember, Dragon Lord Torch, that you wanted me to act like an adult dragon? Well, adult dragons don't tell any other dragon where their hoard is—and I know you won't use the scepter to make me."

Torch froze in his digging to look at Rake. Eyes as big as her head narrowed to slits as he felt his fire rise into his throat. "You figured all that out, didn't you?" His voice was low, though with how much lung capacity was behind it, it still echoed back at them like thunder from nearby mountains.

"If word got out that you used the scepter to compel another dragon to give up their hoard—you'd be the first dragon lord killed by his own kin." Turning, Rake started to walk away from what was left of her old lair. "Come on, Charlie, we have some flying to do."

Trying to ignore the fact that there was a dragon bigger than Hogwarts castle looking for the gems he was carrying in his pocket, Charlie climbed up on Rake's shoulder, then got secure on her back. When her wings snapped out, Charlie could only hope that Torch couldn't see all the magical enchantments his cloak was wrapped in had been joined by a new one. 

Leaping into the air, Rake beat her wings to get away from the rocks and dust that Torch was still kicking up from the remains of her lair. Her draconic emotions sang in joy at how close they'd been to losing all her gems—only to get away. 

Not that Rake was dawdling. Not with her whole hoard riding on her back. Maybe, she thought, a smaller hoard would be better. Safer.





Norbert didn't like it. Flying so much, without having a nice warm place to settle down, was unnatural for a dragon. But here he was soaring high above the slow-moving creatures and looking for things to eat.

It was surprising how many things were good to eat in this different world. Not the other, strange dragons—he couldn't eat those if he tried—but the various things that tried to chase the slow-moving creatures were good eating. 

When Whistlewing heard Norbert let out a soft growl, she looked in the same direction he did and spotted the three big cats stalking through the grass. She let out a low whistle of excitement and started a slow circle that would put the sun at her back, while Norbert began a slow descent that would scare the beasts toward her.

Norbert loved his part in their games. When he saw Whistlewing was in position, he stooped forward and started to dive. Sometimes the creatures they hunted would see him coming, but sometimes (like today) they wouldn't notice the apex-predator until it had landed on one of them and snapped their neck.

The remaining cats knew when they were outmatched. A predator nearly five times their size had just ambushed them, and they wanted none of it. Turning to run, neither saw Whistlewing as she grabbed one of the cats around the neck with her jaws and caught the second with her talons.

Pouncing to assist Whistlewing, Norbert grabbed the one in her talons and dealt with it while she finished the third off.

Whistlewing had thought Norbert was a hopeless case. That he was a dragon without any of the right instincts to be a dragon, but she had persevered and found him quite capable. Whistling to him, surrounded by their coming meal, she leaned closer and nuzzled his neck—before turning to start eating her kill.

"What was that?" Stefan asked. He'd seen the two dragons swoop down behind them and hadn't seen them take off again. "What happened to Whistles and Norby?"

Charlie didn't need years of study to know that the dives the two dragons had used were textbook hunting attacks. It did make him smile that dragons only hunted in pairs when they were a bonded pair. "Well, they're big dragons, Stefan, I'm sure they can take care of themselves."

Stefan had learned something during their week of travel—Inferno would tell him all the details of anything the dragon knew, so long as he asked the right way. Easing away from Charlie, Stefan walked over to where Infero was walking beside his sister. The dragon was pulling a huge travois, the sticks crossing over just behind him dragging along the ground but supporting a whole pile of gear. "Hey, Inferno?"

Turning his head, Inferno looked back at Stefan. "What's up?" He knew Beatrice's family meant a lot to her, so he extended being nice to all of them.

"You know all kinds of stuff, why were the Earth dragons diving back there?" Pointing with his hand, Stefan indicated behind them.

"Probably something following us. Those Earth dragons are no match for me or Rake, but there's a lot of stuff here they could beat up easily." It worried Inferno a little that things following them meant predators following them, but he didn't want to show that he was worried. After all, if those good-for-nothing Earth dragons had become good-for-apparently-something, even better. "You should probably stick close."

All the adults, Charlie included, had their own travois. They carried all the various items that the Bent-Twigs had made for their cabin. The only exception was Rake. It wasn't that she refused to carry anything, but if something nasty appeared, she was best suited to deal with it. "Probably big cats. There's lots of small creatures around here for them to hunt. I guess you're all a bit of a bigger meal for them." 

Rake had been learning to use her brain even more and, more importantly, follow her feelings. Raising her voice a little more, she called, "Stefan, do you want to ride on my back for a bit?"

Being 13 years old and getting an invitation to ride on the back of a dragon was something Stefan wouldn't turn down. He'd seen Charlie climb onto Rake's back a few times, and being size (if he were on all fours), he managed to get in place over her spine easily.

"Stefan," Simon said, "what do you say?"

"Thank you, Miss Rake!"

Rake made sure to keep her head turned slightly while they walked, always keeping one eye on the rear of their group. What she saw was Whistlewing and Norbert doing great work at killing and eating anything that followed them. Still, she put up with carrying the smallest of the humans on her back.

That night, with the Bent-Twigs all curled up together in a group, Charlie made his way over to Rake and Inferno. "Do you know what Norbert and Whistlewing keep hunting?"

"Rake was guarding all the Bent-Twigs, and I had to pull that damn pack all day." Inferno glared at the bound poles that formed his travois. "Whatever it or they were, they knew how to keep hidden while stalking us."

"Not from the air." The thought of the dragons he'd helped helping them made Charlie smile. "Tomorrow, can you pull my load along with you and I'll use an a spell to hide myself. When Norbert and Whistlewing kill the creatures, I'll know what they were."

"I don't like it." Rake had a double stake in Charlie—he was both her friend and the entirety of her hoard. "Your dragons are keeping them off us, that's enough."

"Not if we're going to be living near here. We need to know the threats and we need to keep moving. I can't keep you hidden with me, Rake. My magic barely even sticks to Inferno. I can look after myself, Rake." Though he appreciated her protection, it was starting to grate a little for Charlie.

Simon walked over to the trio and sat down with them—ignoring the way they all clammed up and stared at him. "What's the plan?" When none of the three looked to comply, he let out a sigh. "I know those two dragons—"

"Earth dragons," Rake said.

"… those two Earth dragons caught something today. What was it? It was dangerous?" Having faced no end of dangers in the wizarding world, Simon wasn't about to back down from learning the truth of things.

Charlie sighed and spilled the beans. "We think it might be big cat of some kind. If it was following us, it was definitely a predator." 

"And we were going to settle on the far side of this plain. Okay, so how do we find out what it was? Use some kind of concealment and wait? Circle above and try to spot them?"

"The plan Charlie just offered was for him to wait with some kind of spell hiding him, then watch for any that pass. I don't like it." Rake had to focus to hold back her flames lest she start a fire that soured the grass plains.

"No one should do that alone," Simon said, gaining a nodding approval from Rake. "That's why I'll stay with him."

Rake tried to nix the idea on the grounds that Simon wouldn't be any help, but Charlie spoke up first.

"I don't want to have you out there too, Simon. You should be here, with your family," Charlie said.

"I think my family are safe enough with a pair of real dragons protecting them. It's you I'm worried about, mate. Too used to using magic by half. You know how us squibs survive all the madness the wizarding world has to offer?" Before any of them could answer, Simon produced a butterfly knife from his coat and flicked it around quickly so the business end was facing out. "They might be big cats, or wolves, or whatever—but your big and scaly pets proved they can bleed."

Inferno was the most taken aback by the difference in Simon. He looked at the human with a newfound respect—not that he didn't respect him already, but this was draconic respect.

Closing his eyes to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say, Charlie tossed all the thoughts out and spoke his mind. "I don't like it, Simon, but I won't stop you. Okay, so prepare whatever weapons you want to bring and be ready before dawn. Rake, can you—?"

"More load. Just make sure I can drop it in a hurry if I need to get serious." By this point Rake was resigned to the situation.





Early in the morning, about an hour before the sun was due to jump into the sky, Charlie and Simon were getting ready for the day. Charlie had planned to just use the heavy enchantments on his robes to turn himself invisible, but covering Simon too meant he would need something bigger.

In the end the pair had woven a grass mat and Charlie spent the last twenty minutes before sunrise enchanting it. It was neither an easy task nor a perfect result, but the advantage was that the mat already looked and smelled of the grass around them, so the spell would hold far better than it had any right of doing.

"That'll work? I don't mean to question you, but I have heard that invisibility enchantments can be difficult." Simon looked at the normal-appearing mat of grass as if it might actually bite him.

"It will barely last the day, and if we were anywhere but a grassy plain, I'd say it wouldn't work at all, but it will hold out here." Charlie didn't like the look of the spell either, but it was all he could manage. "What I wouldn't give to have my brother here."

"Good wizard?"

"At this stuff? The best. Cursebreaker by trade, but he was also pretty good at putting long-term enchantments and curses together, too." Casting magic through his horn had become second nature to Charlie, and it reminded him—every time he did it—that his family were an entire world away.

The sense of loss eased when a hand started rubbing at Charlie's head and ears. It shouldn't have felt so welcome and reassuring, but Simon's simple touch meant a lot to Charlie. "Thanks. I miss my brothers and parents."

"Figured. I don't know what I'd do if I lost May and the kids." Drawing his hand back, Simon still felt a little uncomfortable about petting another person. "Okay, let's pick our spot and settle down."

Their spot ended up being a depression in the ground near the overnight camp. The mat covered them over perfectly and left them somewhere to hunker down so that they would be even less visible. Charlie had only his magic and a machete he kept in one of his many pockets, while Simon had tied a short pole to the handle of a knife and held it like a short spear.

Nothing happened all morning, and it wasn't until an hour past midday when there was the first hint of movement in the campsite. Neither could see the creatures, but the silence of their footsteps was highlighted by the purr-like sound they were making. The addition of a strong cat smell was all Charlie needed to know what was out there.

Simon's nose wasn't as good as Charlie's, but he could draw his own conclusions too. He held very still as the big felines he knew were out there sniffed around the camp and explored the area just beyond their hidey-hole. 

The cats moved so silently that neither Charlie nor Simon heard the cat behind their backs—just beyond the grass mat—until it's nose was inches from the mat. 

Both sat motionless, not even breathing as fangs and claws and sharp nose were mere inches from them. They'd thought they'd gotten away with it, too. The cat stood up and seemed like it was walking away—only for its forepaw to come down on the grass mat and rip it away. 

Charlie began summoning his magic to do battle or, at worst, apparate them away, only for Simon to bring his spear up and under the big cat and drive the dagger tied to the tip deep into its chest. 

It had all happened so fast that Charlie was left stunned and shocked. Even as Simon freed one of his hands from the spear and brought it up—knife in hand—to slash the throat of the cat, Charlie was trying to work out what had gone so wrong. 

The rest of the pride, consisting of two more females and a male, turned at the dying gurgles of the big cat that had uncovered Charlie and Simon.

When the male started moving (the first to do so), Simon tried to dig his spear out of the dead cat and get it ready to put between himself and the next attacker—but the knife was buried deep in the strong muscles of the cat's chest and wouldn't budge. "I hope you can do something with your magic."

Eyes widening, Charlie lowered his horn and prepared the first thing that came to mind—a stunning spell. Aiming at the big cat racing toward them, he discharged a bright red bolt from his horn that lanced toward the feline—which dodged to the side. The bolt, without the first target in its way, flew by and hit one of the female cats that hadn't started their run yet.

Simon hated the odds. The cats weren't as big as tigers, but even coming up to his waist they were more than enough to be a serious problem up close—and the first was about to be up close very quickly.

When the cat pounced forward—claws out and ready to grab Simon—he ducked under and rolled toward it. There was a horrible moment when Simon couldn't see the cat and had to hope it wasn't prepared to adjust its pounce.

When the cat and Simon fell into a close fight, Charlie had his chance to send a stunner at them or at the remaining female—and given said female was charging at them he knew what he'd rather do. Trusting Simon to at do as well against the male as he had against the first cat, Charlie sent a stunner at the remaining cat and hit it. The only problem was it had momentum, and while the stunner checked all its muscles at once, the thing slammed into him and knocked him over.

Except for Charlie's groan from being pinned under a cat and the sounds of Simon and his combatant fighting, the sounds of the plane had all stopped. Predators were fighting, and though there would be a feast for many once the fight was over—none wanted to be the first to disrupt the fight and possibly face the victor alone.

But two creatures were more than happy to intervene. Whistlewing landed beside the cat pinning Charlie and grabbed it with one talon. When she pulled it away from him, she let out a curious chirp sound at him before she started to shred the stunned feline.

"No. Help—help Simon!" Feeling like he'd been hit by a small car, Charlie tried to get his legs under himself and turned to see that the cat Simon had been fighting was slumped beside him, though Simon didn't look much better off. "Simon?"

The problem for Simon was that while he had two knives, using them meant putting himself in range of the cat's claws and its teeth. He hurt a lot. His side felt like it was on fire, and his arms had tears from his shoulders on down to his wrists where it had clawed at him. The one wound he knew would be a big problem, though, was the bite in his thigh. "Still alive, but not for long."

"Is any of that blood from the cat?" Filling his horn with magic, Charlie ran over all the spells he knew for healing. He'd learned several healing spells, all of them Charms, and had a good idea what needed to be done. "Hold on, I can help with this. First I need to close those wounds and prevent shock."

It was by no means a simple spell. Episkey Charm was, however, perfect for the first half of the healing, so Charlie built up as much magic as he could and started forming the spell. The moment he finished the preparations and formed the pattern, his magic rushed in to fill it and poured itself through the spell and into Simon.

The magic poured into Simon. He felt the pain ease and the darkness around his consciousness retreat somewhat. The tugging on his wounds should have hurt, but magic being magic meant it didn't.

What did hurt was Simon's forehead. "What are you doing?!" Lifting his hands to his forehead, he felt something starting to protrude.

Trying to cut off the magic of the spell, once it was cast and working, was impossible. Charlie could only stare in shock as Simon's body started to not just heal, but change. The skin on his scalp—along with his hair—grew shiny and crystalline and the pattern crept all the way to his growing horn.

"I—I didn't do this! It's just happening. Simon, are you okay?" Charlie was rattled. The spell hadn't been intended to turn Simon into a unicorn, but it was happening before his eyes—only it seemed to fizzle out with just the horn and a mane of equine hair.

The pain had gone again, though Simon could feel a tingle coming from his forehead as well as his face and neck. "Yeah. Uh, what's going on? Where are the other cats?"

Turning his head, Charlie saw that the other stunned cat was missing its insides while Norbert—with a big and savage grin—was swallowing something. "Uh, I don't think we have to worry about them. Norbert and Whistlewing turned up and…"

Reality sank in for Simon. This was no different than his wife or kids getting crystal skin or snouts and tails. "Okay, so we're safe. I still feel like shit, though. What else were you going to do?" 

"Stamina charm. It would restore the blood lost and give you enough energy to get us caught up to the others. That might not be such a good idea n—"

"Just cast it. It's not like I stand out by looking like this, I just didn't—didn't think about it happening to me." Bracing one arm against the ground, Simon pushed himself to a crouch just as Charlie began casting the next spell.

This time the spell lacked any pain-killing properties, but the more it filled him with magic, the better Simon felt. The reserves he'd lost with his blood filled back up and he could feel a rush of returning strength. He could also feel the tingle as his body quickly soaked up the magic like a sponge and used it to give him a perfect sheen of orange diamond from the tip of his horn to the soles of his hoofed legs.

When the restorative magic cut off, Simon gasped and looked down at his feet. His shoes had just fallen off, though the thick woolen socks he'd been wearing were still covering his hooves and ankles. "I thought I had to cast spells to change?"

"I don't get it either. I thought it would be safe." Charlie wasn't sure what to do with Simon. He was worried about him, but at the same time they needed to get moving.

Seeing the worry Charlie had, Simon mentally grabbed himself and shook until he was thinking straight. He was in a tough situation, things had gone a little sideways, but Charlie had just saved his life. "Relax, mate. You saved my bacon. This"—Simon stood up and gestured to himself—"just means I match my family a little better. Come on, we need to get a move on, and I think these hooves are going to take some getting used to."

A little surprised by the no-nonsense attitude Simon took, Charlie walked at his side. He could see Simon was a little shorter now, but still nowhere close to the much reduced size of a pony. "You were pretty good with those knives. I know they weren't exactly lions or anything, but you still nailed two of them."

"When I was younger, I did some things I regret, right? I've tried to put it behind me, but when I get provoked like that my hands remember how to move." Looking down at his hands, Simon focused on the translucent quality of them for a moment before he realized something. "Hey, I don't have the snout."

"Maybe you're still changing?" Looking back on the former camp, Charlie watched as Whistlewing and Norbert cavorted around the remaining two cat bodies. It was close to playing with their food, but he recognized it as simply two dragons that were comfortable with each other. 

"Maybe. Life changes fast here, it seems. Where do you think will be a good place to settle down again?" Still getting used to his hooves, Simon tried to get a stride going he could balance with. "How does Bea manage this?"

"You don't really need to roll your foot. Just step on it, let it take your weight, and lift it the moment you'd normally start to rock up on your toes. And, I was thinking we go until we're near the ocean. There's a lot of advantages to being by the sea. Fishing for one."

Trying the suggestion with his feet helped and meant his hooves weren't dragging so much. "I guess we can always fish then. I haven't done any fishing before." The topic was like a complete change for Simon. He could forget about the bloody mess he'd made and been and move on. "What's it like?"

"Depends on a lot of things, but it can be really relaxing if you are comfortably bringing-in food. I can do a few food charms that me mum taught me, so we wouldn't exactly be hurting for food if we could catch a fish or two a week. Getting a garden started would be more important." Charlie only had to remember his mum's garden and he was feeling tears well up in his eyes at the good memories.





"There's dad and Charlie!" Belladonna called, pointing a jeweled, yellow finger in the direction of the returning men. She was just about to run to meet them when Rake landed in front of her—and try as she might, Belladonna couldn't physically argue with a dragon.

"They smell like blood. Stay close to me." Rake loosed a wing on one side and let it hang a little free to hide Belladonna from view. The blood she smelled was a mixture of feline and human. "Cats?!"

Simon could see the wariness in Rake's behavior. He'd watched her take up a protective stance in front of Belladonna and it made him thankful to have such friends. "Big cats! Did a bit of a number on me, but nothing Charlie couldn't fix with his magic." As they got closer, he brought his voice down to a normal volume.

When Rake drew her wing in, Belladonna could see her father properly. "Uh, Dad?"

"Surprise…" Simon walked up to his daughter and it suddenly hit him how small he'd become. "Either you've grown, Bella, or I shrank a little."

Belladonna shook her head to ignore the state of her father. "You've got a horn, Dad!"

"Yeah. Turns out having a lot of magic used on me is about the same as using it myself." Simon walked along beside his daughter, Rake, and Charlie. "Are we stopping here for the night?"

"You don't get it, Dad. Charlie can cast spells through his horn like it was a wand." Gesturing to Charlie, Belladonna tried to make her father understand what she meant. "What if you can do that now?"

Simon froze. He'd grown up thinking he'd be a wizard. He'd reached the age of around ten, and when he still hadn't had a single magical break-out, he'd been pronounced a squib and told he'd never have magic. "That—that can't be right."

"Have you tried? You should try. Just think of it like a wand and—"

Holding up an orange crystal hand, Simon attempted to quell his daughter's overenthusiastic focus with a little down-to-earth facts. "Bella, sweetie, I've never used a wand, remember?" They were getting closer to where he could see May, his kids, and the dragons had set up camp.

Standing up from where she'd been preparing a fire pit that she hoped wouldn't start a grass fire, May looked in the direction of her husband's voice. She had to blink a few times before a smile creased her snout. "Simon, dear, what happened?"

Running to his wife, Simon wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. For several seconds he just held her and thought of how close he came to not doing that again. "They were cats. Our disguise worked for a bit, but one of them just got too close. Charlie saved my life, May."

"I'll thank him later, but for now…" Reaching up to grasp Simon's cheeks with both her hands, May pulled him in for a kiss.

Leaving the couple to their own devices, Charlie walked a little away from the middle of the camp and looked out over the grass. "Well, at least we know what we're dealing with. That was really close though, Rake."

Rake hadn't strayed from Charlie's side, though she did keep an eye on their camp. "What happened?" She listened while Charlie recounted the morning's events and then the fight. When Charlie got to the bit about Norbert and Whistlewing arriving, she breathed a sigh of relief. "They aren't as good as a true dragon, but they are fine beasts."

Lifting his head, Charlie regarded Rake with surprise. "I think that's the first nice thing you've said about them."

"What happened to Simon?" Rake asked, changing the topic.

"He almost got as good as he gave. He was bleeding out from a lot of gashes where it had clawed him, but the bite to his thigh was leaking a lot of blood fast. There's a big artery there. I cast healing magic on him, and while it healed him as I'd normally expect, it also started changing him. I'm not completely sure, but I think he's making his own magic now."

Rake mused on that. "Do you think he will change all the way, or stop at some arbitrary point like his children?"

"I've got a theory on that. What if how much you change is based on how strong your magic is?" Charlie lifted his left forehoof up and mused over it. "I'm the most powerful wizard, so I turned the most."

"Then why did Simon change at all?"

"Well, he has to have some magic blood in him. Back on Earth, there was a few kinds of people. There are the pure blood wizards—both their parents were magic users and usually could trace their heritage back through one family or the other. Half-bloods had a wizard parent and a non-wizard parent. Muggle-born are wizards that have parents who weren't known to have wizarding blood at all. Squibs were wizard-born that had no magic—though now I think it might be better to say they appear to have no magic. Finally, you have what are called muggles—they have no wizarding blood and no magic."

"You're pure-blood, aren't you?" Rake asked.

"Yeah."

"Wouldn't that make Bea, Bella, and Stefan pure-blood too?"

"That's the crux of it. With Simon being a squib, their kids would have been just half-blood, but now his blood has outed, it would mean they're pure-blood. But whether magic can backdate a curse, who knows. You want to take a look around from up there?" Tilting his head up, Charlie looked to the sky.

"You know, before all this, I wouldn't have let another creature ride my back and would have called you crazy to even suggest it." As she spoke, Rake dipped her shoulder and made a step with her foreleg for Charlie.

"And now?" It was easy enough for Charlie to jump up onto Rake's back given she made a staircase for him—doubly so from all the experience he'd had at it.

"Now I value your eyes and what's behind them too much not to put you in the safest spot there is." Looking back to ensure Charlie seated himself, Rake nodded when she felt his hooves grip the usual places and she pumped her wings to gain altitude. "Also, you're my hoard."

Dragons, Charlie knew, could speak while they were flying. Their voices were so loud and their indifference to anything going into their mouth so immense that all the problems of a smaller creature like him talking while in the air were non-existent. Until Rake reached her gliding height, the conversation was limited to a monologue.

"But they're quickly growing to be part of that too. I don't want to leave Inferno without his own place, but I—I can't help it." Rake kept pumping her wings until she found a swirling thermal she could ride. Spreading out her membranes as far as she could, she started to lazily circle the updraft.

"There's something you missed." Charlie had to shout. With the wind still strong—but not hurricane-wings strong—shouting was the only way to be heard. "What if you consider all of us and everything we do your hoard?"

"Are you trying to make me into a monster?" Though she countered it, with the idea floated Rake couldn't help but start to think down that path. "And what about Inferno?"

"No, Rake, I'm trying to make you into a powerful dragon with people to lead." Leaning to the side a little, Charlie looked down at the world below them. The plains ended abruptly not even another day's walk from their camp. The edge was a cliff face with the sea beyond, but even from his current height Charlie could see a beach nearby. Not far along the shore was the start of a forest that stretched to the horizon. "You need to understand, Rake, you can own all of this because we'll let you. Don't think I haven't noticed you growing because of your perception of your hoard growing. That's how this works, isn't it?"

Rake froze suddenly enough that she lost altitude. Steadying her wings and evening her flight out, she wondered how to keep the conversation going—because right now turning upside-down seemed like the best solution. "Yeah."

"Do I need to beat the truth of this into you? You are already our protector. We're all fine with you thinking of us as your hoard. Your hoard, Rake, is what you care about—right?"

It was such a draconic idea that Rake easily replied, "Yeah."

"And you care about us, right?"

The logic of it was sound, but Rake still had misgivings about the matter. "You already put up with me being possessive. This will be—" She stopped herself before she finished. "I can't believe I'm thinking it, and I can't believe it's your idea."

"You saw how big Torch was. What do you think is in his hoard that lets him be that huge?" Charlie had seen enough to know that this location would be perfect, but he didn't want them to land before they had this issue sorted. "Look up toward the forest. We don't want to build there, but being a bit closer would be easier when it comes to getting wood."

"Everydragon knows Torch has a huge hoard. There are stories about how much he's gathered." As she spoke, Rake became more aware that Charlie had implied this was wrong. He was challenging her to think, and think she did. Gliding in the direction Charlie had pointed, she was surprised he kept his silence. 

What did Torch value? Rake thought. Well, she knew he valued hoard—she'd had first-claw experience with that. There was more, though, and it took her until they reached the treeline until she realized it. "The dragons. He directly equates each dragon to the hoard they will leave him. He knows how much a dragon is worth. He can count dragons as gems." 

"You're smarter than he is, you know." 

"What?!"

"You don't need to weigh us as gems to know that one of our lives is worth a huge amount. When you accepted that I was okay being in your hoard, you grew huge. Let's go talk to the others about it." 

Tilting her wings, Rake turned in a steep bank that had them snap around to face back toward their camp. Not wanting to hear more words that made her think, she pumped her wings to increase speed and minimize Charlie's ability to be heard.

The flight back kept them both quiet, but when Rake didn't slowly glide down to the ground, Charlie knew she was about to do something that would challenge his ability to remain on her back. When the camp was directly below them, he felt her start to pitch forward and knew she was going to dive.

Grabbing on to the spines along her back for all he was worth, Charlie quickly uttered a spell that would make it so if he hit the ground, he'd bounce.

As Rake hit the ground, her wings spread out wide to dump most of her speed into a strong wind that flattened the grass around her and left her with her claws only barely sinking into the ground. Despite what she thought of the idea, she breathed in the scents of all the ponies, Earth dragons, and her brother Inferno—it all smelled like her hoard. 

Closing her eyes, Rake didn't want to allow herself to think it, but Charlie wasn't going to let up. "Why are you doing this?"

"Pushing you?"

"Yeah." Rake slowly folded her wings up and leaned down for Charlie to climb down.

"Because you saved my arse. Because you and your brother saved the Bent-Twigs. Because you care. Do you need more?" Charlie bounced down, taking each step at a running pronk. When his hooves reached the ground, he gave it a few taps with each hoof to remind himself what it felt like again. "Because I like you, Rake the dragon." Turning, Charlie started to walk back toward the little camp.

Dumbfounded, Rake took a few moments to chase the strange thoughts from her head before she chased after Charlie. It didn't work. The moment she looked at Charlie as he walked away from her, his words chased their way back into her head. "What do you mean by that?"

"What do you think I mean?" Charlie asked before turning his full attention to the Bent-Twigs—who were looking at him and Rake with some interest. "We scouted ahead, and have good news. The coast isn't far. There's a cliff along most of it, but some beaches as well, and not far toward the west is a forest."

"What about—?" Rake began.

"The other thing," Charlie said, "is we need to talk about dragons and hoards.

"A dragon grows based on their perceived hoard. Rake told me about a phenomena called greed growth which is where a young dragon overvalues everything around them and loses their head a bit. They basically wind up growing really quickly but without all the side advantages of actually becoming an adult. Right?"

Rake blew a little smoke from her nostrils. "Yeah."

"But adult dragons weigh up their possessions and understand their true worth. You've seen Rake growing quite a bit lately and that's because she saw more and more value in me." Sitting down, Charlie made a point of tilting his head back so he showed off the facets of his head and neck in the afternoon sunlight. "What I proposed was that we all swear fealty to her. She can be a bit like a queen."

Lifting his hand, Simon rubbed his slightly protruding chin. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but we left the UK because of all the crazy restrictiveness of the Ministry of Magic. Why should we let 'er make up the rules?"

"No rules." Rake growled the words out at Charlie. "I don't want to rule anyone. How would I even know if I'm good at that sort of thing?"

"Well said." Simon tilted his head to the side a little, trying to figure out the angle here. "So what you're trying to do is make Rake a figurehead so that we're all technically part of her hoard—so she can grow?"

"In a handful of words, yeah. But it also means she gets to be big. Bigger dragon means less things are ever likely to mess with us. Big enough dragon and even nations wouldn't try." A shadow passed over Charlie's head just then, and when he looked up, he spotted an owl. "What the—?"

Swooping down on silent wings, Hedwig landed on the ground beside Charlie. He didn't look or smell right, but this was the original creator of the wand Ronald Weasley had shown her. She could feel his magic, and that meant she could deliver a letter. Opening her beak, she reached down to the tube her left talon was clutched around.

"A messenger owl! This is unbelievable!" Charlie poured magic into his horn to grab the tube, only for Hedwig to let go of it and let him take it. The amount of magic it took to manipulate items using raw telekinesis was crazy when Charlie thought about it too much, but this world was bursting with the stuff. Opening the scroll, he froze in shock.

"What's it say?" Simon asked.

"It—It's from me mum. She—My whole family are here. Here in this world!" His eyes raced across the roll of paper with writing on it so fine that it almost ran together in places. "There was a fight with some evil wizard or something, and magic was being sucked out of Earth through the portals. Wait, no, she says that's what they thought was happening, but it was—Hogwarts! Hogwarts was the source of magic!

"Hogwarts was a city here. This is really confusing to read." Charlie shook his head as he tried to make heads or tails of the events his mother described. "Hold up I—Okay, I think I have this straight. So, Hogwarts was built on the remains of a crystal city that had been ripped from Equestria. It had some of its inhabitants frozen with it, but some had been tossed out of the spell and onto Earth. They—they were the first wizards."

When May and Simon both gasped, Charlie continued. "It was all because of an evil king. So, anyway, he pulled it back to Equestria—Hogwarts and all—and that left Earth without anything breathing magic into it anymore. Apparently there were portals like the one we fell through opening up all over but—but they're all closed now. All the portals are and no one knows how to open them again. We're stuck here."

"This changes things." Simon rolled his shoulders and stretched. "It'll be tough without you, Charlie, but we can—"

"I'm not going to see my family. I know they're safe, and I know one day I'll see them again, but it's more important we all get settled somewhere." It was hard to say the words, but more than ever before Charlie felt people depended on him. "Besides, Rake likes it here, and it's not like she'd want to fly all the way to—err, wherever. Right?"

"Right now, Charlie, you and what you're carrying is my hoard. My lair is wherever you stand." Uninclined to bail Charlie out of his little moral dilemma, Rake lashed her tail. "Unless you"—she looked at Simon and May—"are willing to go ahead with this madness?"

Looking at her husband, May Bent-Twig smirked at the way Rake had phrased the question. "I've been known as the mad witch of east-end before."

"I married the mad witch of east-end," Simon Bent-Twig said. "But there's still others who will come after us. For now, we will follow your lead and be your talons."

May caught up the thread Simon had started. "And given our children will make their own choices on the matter, I see no reason we can't work together. You know this world better than we ever will, Lady Rake, and I have learned to trust you at your word." Holding up her arm, May spat in the frog of the hoof her hand had become and thrust it out toward Rake.

Snorting with laughter, Charlie recognized the ancient ritual of deal-making. "Okay, Rake, spit something non-corrosive and non-flammable into your talon and shake May's hoof."

Staring at the offered hoof, Rake could see the trap she'd pounced into. Having come to them with Charlie to make the offer, she now saw her own freedom at stake. "You ponies are the strangest creatures I've ever met." Clenching her throat closed, she spat out some of her saliva onto the palm of her talon and grabbed May's hoof with it. "Just don't annoy me too much or I'll fly away."

Watching May pull her now sticky hoof away from Rake, Simon spat on his hand and held it out. "If we're such idiots as can drive a dragon away, we deserve everything we get." He was proud and more than a little surprised at how right this felt. It didn't half help that he'd had a thing for dragons when he was a kid—not dragons like the ones on Earth, but proper dragons. Brave dragons. Smart dragons. Fierce dragons.

Simon could see all those attributes in Rake, and let the adventurous little kid inside him jump around in excitement—still inside him.

"Guess I need to write Mum a reply." Taking up the paper, Charlie worked a quick cleaning spell on it before he reached into a pocket for a pen. Like many graduating wizards and witches, Charlie had quickly learned the joy of a ballpoint pen. 



Dear Mum——


> The Faculty
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remus John Lupin sat behind the desk and tried not to fidget. He'd expected Dumbledore to still be headmaster of the school—well, he hadn't even expected there to be a school, but he had nowhere else to try—but the witch before him was more formidable by far. He'd never been able to pull one over Minerva McGonagall, not when he'd been a student and apparently not now.

"What's the catch?" Minerva McGonagall asked. It was meant to be a mere formality, but she'd noticed Mr. Lupin had become more and more worried the later it got and she intended to have him either tell her or stay long enough that whatever was about to explode did so with herself present.

"Profess—" Remus bit down on the title before he said it. "Force of habit, sorry. Minerva, the catch is I will gradually turn into a colorful little horse, but that's neither here nor there." What truly worried Remus was that he could feel the moon stalking him here—just like it did near a full moon on Earth—and he had a terrible feeling that tonight would see him changing. "Has Albus spoken to you about—?"

Minerva wanted to sigh and roll her eyes. Talking with Remus Lupin was giving her a headache and she had a great many things to clear up before the day was done—not the least of which a meeting with the rulers of the Crystal Empire Hogwarts was now planted in the middle of. "About what, Mr. Lupin?"

This was it, Lupin realized. There was no more tip-toeing around things. "About my wo—"

Albus Dumbledore feigned stumbling through the door as if he'd tripped and had no other way to stop himself. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?" He hated the game, or so he told anyone who asked, but Albus enjoyed playing the role of glue to keep the school together. Right now he was concerned Remus had blurted out his status as a werewolf to Minerva.

"As a matter of fact, Professor Dumbledore, you did. What is the problem, Albus?" Now Minerva did sigh. Albus was worth a good sigh now and again, mostly because he expected her to sigh, so she could get away with one and he'd think all was right.

"I just wanted to invite my fellow professor here—pending your approval—to enjoy a drink with me after he's finished here." With his most innocuous grandpa Dumbledore expression in place, Albus saw that Minerva was buying not a single thing he was hoping to sell. He dropped the expression. "What do you want to know, headmistress?"

"Albus, you don't run this school anymore, remember? If there's something you would normally keep under your hat, I believe you are obliged to reveal it here and now." So it had come to this. Minerva turned the expression that had unnerved countless students into revealing every last secret they had on Albus. The casual tilt of her head, looking over her glasses like the lenses would obscure her ability to pierce the very soul.

Sagging a little, Albus shook his head and looked at Remus. "I'm sorry, old friend, but I can't keep this secret any longer." Looking back at Minerva, Albus said, "We're having scones."

Minerva knew right then that she was fighting someone in a battle of wits who'd been playing the game longer and knew all her moves. It was disheartening, but at the same time she was reassured to know that Albus was at least on her side. "If I can't trust you to trust me, Albus, then I'm afraid you'll have to be let go." Which is why she had one more card to play. "At least Mr. Lupin here will be able to take over your class."

Albus had spent a good deal of time at Hogwarts learning to read wizards and witches, and that included Minerva. He had even taught the witch before him Defense Against the Dark Arts himself, and had spent a good deal of time with her as an adult—which is how he knew she was deadly serious. "Minerva, this is a sensiti—"

"I will not have secrets kept in my school, do you understand me, Albus?"

Though it was a problem for him, Albus could appreciate Minerva being firm on the matter. It wasn't how he would have handled it, but that way had led to a lot of problems for himself and the school. "I will leave it to Remus. You haven't known Minerva as long as I have, but the only reason I wasn't going to tell her was this isn't my secret to tell."

Two of the greatest influences on his life turned to face Remus Lupin, and he felt the weight of his curse pressing down on him. "I'll gather my things and leave. Sorry to have wasted yo—" He bit back the words he needed to say to complete the sentence. "I'm a werewolf."

That was news to Minerva. She reached up with her hoof and nudged her glasses back up her snout. "And what made you think this wouldn't be important information to share with the headmaster?" When Remus looked aside to Albus, Minerva turned her expression on him. "Well, Albus?"

With the secret revealed by its owner, Albus felt free to explain his side of things. "I'd arranged with Severus to brew that new Wolfsbane potion for him. It will keep the beast from his thoughts and allow him to sit out his time as a man in a wolf's body, rather than a—"

"… a wild, killing machine? Please tell me Severus is already working on this concoction?" At Albus' nod, Minerva let out a sigh of relief. "Very well. We will not need to announce this to the faculty, Mr. Lupin, so long as you follow my rules and treat that side of yourself with the seriousness it deserves. You will have two witnesses observe you consuming said potion, and if you have any further troubles with your condition, Remus, you should come to me. Are we at an understanding?" 

It surprised Remus just how smoothly she'd taken it. Her acceptance and laying down of rules reassured him. "I have the job, then?"

"You do, Professor Lupin. Please talk to Severus about a schedule for your potion. He will suffice as one witness, but you'll need either myself or Albus to witness your taking of it as well. I am not familiar with the potion, how often does it need to be taken?" Quickly casting a dictation spell, Minerva let her pen start scrawling down their words.

"At full strength a single dose will last a week. So long as I take it within a few days of the start of a full moon, it will last through the three nights it will affect me." For a moment Remus was about to leave out an important part. "I think it's a full moon tonight."

Minerva was halfway to asking if he was sure before she had to check herself and move on. "Is the potion ready, Albus?"

"No. Severus is preparing it, but it will be at least a day before the first batch is complete. It would have been done already, save Severus has been having trouble coming to terms with his changes." Carefully cultivated as Albus could keep his features, he couldn't stop grinning at the memory of Severus trying to handle magic-sensitive potions with his new hooves.

"We are blessed, then, that we have two castles in one. I will send a message to Princess Cadance to advise her on the problem. They have a dungeon here that will hold you, as well as trained guards who can ensure you don't leave before dawn." Standing up behind her desk, Minerva forced an end to their conversation. "Now, if you please, I have some people to interview, royalty to entertain, and a very scared young student to advise."

The reminder of the day's events sobered Albus. "Minerva, if there's anything I can do to help—?"

"If I can use your help, Albus, I will ask for it. Like right now. You always enjoyed arranging class schedules and faculty, please start to investigate what positions we can fill, what we have filled, and who would be best to fill the holes that are left." As she spoke, Minerva nodded to Remus.

When the room was empty again, Minerva McGonagall slumped back into her chair stared blindly at the ceiling for a moment. She wanted to scream and cry at the same time. Instead, she looked at her notes and the particular student who was to see her next. 

The knock at her door, soft and timid, told her everything she needed to know. "Come in, please."

Without needing to see the school vice-headmaster often, Draco Malfoy hadn't spent more than a few moments looking at the door she walked through, but now she had to step inside and speak to the actual headmistress. "Headmistress McGonagall. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Draco, please sit down." Minerva could see pain on Draco's features easily enough, even if she wasn't as used to reading equine faces as she would have liked—the kind of pain Draco had seen would not be deterred by a species shift. "We have a lot of people here now, and with the Ministry people present still posturing and trying to look important, no one has noticed those without families."

The reminder of what her parents did hurt Draco. She could see that their sacrifice had been needed at the time, but it was still a sacrifice. Closing her eyes for a moment, Draco focused on her emotions—tried to force them away so she could be in the moment. And she failed. Without meaning to, she started to cry and, once started, she couldn't stop.

Minerva wasn't a heartless old crone, she jumped to her hooves and walked around the desk and reached out to Draco. "There-there, dear. Let it out." She cursed herself for phrasing things as she had, but there was very few ways around it, Draco was a minor without a carer.

Try as she might to stop, Draco couldn't force the tears away. Every time she thought she was getting over it, an image of her parents returned—but not their fight. The times her mother cared for her (basically all the time she was home) and even the few times she'd gotten words of praise or support from her father (less often, but still bright points in her history)—they all crowded forward to ensure she would not stop crying.

A knock at the door made Minerva frown a little. "I'm a little busy right now."

"We can help." Shining Armor used his magic to open the door, but had to get out of the way as Cadance rushed into the room—horn ablaze. "Cady, calm down."

"What happened? Is there anything threatening you?" Cadance could feel the pain in Draco's heart and she struggled to keep from hugging the filly. 

The surprise of royalty breaking into Minerva's office was enough of a shock to break Draco's chain of recollection. "I—I'm fine." She reached up to her eyes with a hoof and tried to rub away the tears.

"Draco's parents fought off Sombra's forces on the other side long enough for everyone at the portal to get through. It was not the kind of fighting someone can walk away from even if they had won." Minerva didn't let go of Draco, and she noticed Draco didn't seem eager to shove her away either.

Shining tipped his head down in respect for such a noble sacrifice. As a member of the E.U.P. Guard who'd risen through the ranks and eventually joined the Royal Guard—and risen to its leader—he could appreciate the event.

Cadance's lips squeezed into a tight line. She knew the Guardponies of Equestria made oaths about such things, but she didn't like no-win battles. "Do you have anypony to stay with?"

That was the crux of it for Draco. She slowly shook her head, unable to utter a single word.

Clearing her throat, Minerva tried to reassure Cadance that she had it under control. "It's true he—"

"She." Draco's voice felt small to her in the room full of adults. "I'm a girl now, right?" Draco had been thinking of herself as female since her mother welcomed her.

Shooting a questioning look to Minerva, Cadance quickly turned her gaze back to Draco. "You can be whatever you want to be." She took a deep breath, not sure if asking would be taken as a faux pas. "We could find you somewhere to stay, if you'd like. Until your school opens back up, at least. I understand this is a boarding school, but it doesn't have facilities for students all year?"

"Cady! Who is going to—?"

"I'll worry about that. Two amazing ponies made me a promise and this is the exact situation they made it for." Looking once more at Minerva, Cadance raised one eyebrow in question.

Hating herself for agreeing, Minerva knew she shouldn't hide anything from Shining or Cadance—not with all the help they'd given already. "I'm not saying it will be a relief, but we are going to struggle with resources as it is. Even with the direct help of Equestria, our population just doubled here." 

"Then I'll need to write a letter to go with Draco and instructions on where to find the right house once you're in Canterlot." Cadance could feel the terror drain from the room as she spoke, and saw curiosity grow on Draco's face. "I can promise you, Draco, that Mrs. Velvet and Mr. Light will treat you however you wish to be."

"Mom and Dad?!" The concept hit Shining only when Cadance said the names of his parents. "You're going to send he—Draco—to live with my mom and dad?"

"After they helped me, we made a deal." Giving Shining an apologetic smile, Cadance continued. "They took me in for a few weeks when I first arrived at Canterlot. I had no family, no friends, and everypony was still freaking out about my horn and wings. We made a promise, later on, that we would take care of homeless foals whenever we could. I know we're not set up to do that here right now, but I happen to know that both their foals have moved out of home."

"This is up to you, Draco," Minerva said. "I won't have you feeling pressured. You can stay here in Hogwarts if you'd like, but there will be a lot of work to do over the holidays."

It wasn't a hard decision once Draco heard she'd need to work. She wasn't lazy, but she knew she could come up with better things to spend her break on than helping at the school. "I'll go. It'll—uh—let me see more of this world." Draco mentally slapped herself, trying to regain her cool and calm demeanor.

"Well, it's good we have the most pressing matter under control." Shining shot Draco a smile that he hoped she would understand. "As for the other big event, I've dispatched a messenger to Canterlot to request aid for our expanded citizenry. Am I to understand there are more of these Ministry types here too?"

Minerva sighed and, seeing Draco was back in control of her faculties, retreated around the desk to her seat. She was still getting used to walking on hooves, but short of running she could manage well enough. "Unfortunately, yes. You can expect them to make things hard. They'll try to leverage power to gain more, they'll attempt to set themselves up as the authority on anything you don't explicitly take control of yourself, and they'll work to undermine anything you do take control of. They were predatory civil servants back on Earth, and I doubt they will change their ways just because they have a few extra legs."

"I've dealt with a few of those back in Canterlot. Aunt Celestia shoved me in the deep end of politics and I discovered there were plenty of sharks in the water." Cadance couldn't help but remember some of the worst of them. At one point, according to rumor, she was even in cahoots with Prince Blue Blood to assassinate Princess Celestia—that they were both Celestia's agents and encouraged the rumor right up until those spreading it were shown to be idiots was beside the point. "I'm sure I can deal with them."





"You're a horse?" Sirius' grin was from ear to ear, and not for the first time he felt like laughing at Severus.

It would have been so easy for Severus to let go of his emotions and let the anger turn him into a living inferno. He could have incinerated Sirius in a heartbeat and left nothing behind. Of course, then he'd have to burn up Remus too—but that would cause nothing but a little smile to play on his lips. Albus, however, was the one person in the room he didn't want to burn. 

"I'm a kirin, and if you don't mind your manners I'll be a nirik." When the threat went over their heads, Severus let out a disappointed sigh. "Honestly, it's like conversing with a bunch of monkeys. Your potion won't be ready until tomorrow at the earliest. Do you have any idea how hard some of these items are to prepare?"

Albus drew the attention of everyone in the room with just the slightest movement. He might not retain his stature from before his change, but he could still command respect with little effort. "Severus, I have no doubt that with your skill at potion-making, miracles are being worked as we speak. Are you sure, however, that you can't—?"

"No. I need peace and quiet for the next step—neither of which I am getting with all of you in my laboratory. If you want this potion tomorrow, I would advise you to leave now. Otherwise"—Severus leaned heavily into his patronizing and hyperbolic tone—"stay and watch as I take a whole week."

Of the Marauders, Remus was always the most likely to attempt to appease Sirius—and now he had even more incentive. "Sorry, Severus, and thank you for brewing it at all."

"Let's leave our good friend be and find you some suitable accommodation, Remus?" Albus turned for the door, his hooves making soft clip-clops on the flagstones.

While Remus followed Albus out of the lab, Sirius waited just a moment longer. "If I find out, Sevvy, that you were delaying just to hurt Remus—" He left the rest of his threat unspoken, but was surprised to hear Severus bark with laughter. 

"If you could hurt me, I'd be immensely surprised. Your godson—Harry Potter—is just about indestructible." Stepping forward and sneering up at Sirius, Severus felt pure and unadulterated joy. "I am same species as him."

Sirius realized he'd made a mistake in threatening Severus, but now he was too committed to it. "I'll find a way to hurt you, don't worry. Just don't screw this up or we'll have a werewolf on our hands—and we both know what that's like, don't we?"

Breathing slowly, steadily, Severus wondered why he didn't just turn into a nirik right away and incinerate the fool. For a few moments he contemplated it before finally shoving down on his emotions. Well, shoving them down so he could release them carefully later—with no one around and inside a large fireplace. "Get out now, Sirius, before I reconsider how much of a pain it is to brew this potion and flush it down the lavatory."

That was the crux of it, and what annoyed Sirius the most about the situation—Severus held all the cards here. It wasn't like he could even tip over some glassware, since it might hold things that were part of the potion. 

The moment he was alone again, Severus betrayed his emotions with a smile. He'd never before realized how much power helping people gave him—particularly over those he disliked.





Tromping down into the dungeon, Sirius accompanied his friend into one of the ancient cells. "I'll be with you." 

"You can't, Sirius. You heard what Dumbledore said. There's no telling what will happen when you use your magic to—" Remus looked around. Even after everything that'd happened, he was still wary of giving up his friends' secrets. "To change."

"I don't know about you, Moony, but I feel more freedom here than I've had in my whole life. We don't have him to deal with anymore and the Ministry's rules on lycanthropes and animagi don't mean squat here." Reaching out a hand, Sirius pulled the cell door closed behind them and removed the key. "One day we might not even need the potion or this cell. There's so much magic in the air here that I—I feel like anything is possible."

Watching his friend pull the key out of the old lock and toss it across the room, Remus started disrobing. "Thanks, Padfoot."

"It's just the two of us now, right Moony?" Mentally preparing himself, Sirius began working at bringing the right magic to the fore of his mind. "James and Peter are both gone."

"Peter—" Remus clenched at his gut and hurried up. He slipped his pants off as the pain grew worse, and threw all his clothes after the key. "Despite everything that happened, I like to think he was still the Wormtail who first changed with us—not what Voldemort did to him."

Sirius didn't want to think about the man who'd betrayed them all and set him up for a lot of hard time. He called on his magic instead and felt a rush of excitement as his body started to change. Unlike Remus' change, Sirius felt no pain. A rush of excitement flooded through him, and he focused on his clothes and making them part of him.

Cracking bones and tendons ripping away from muscles, Remus experienced all the pain of a supernaturally strong body ripping itself apart as it tried to reshape into a wolf. But where he expected to feel the usual canine form as a result, things were very different.

"Moony—?" was all Sirius managed to say as his face reshaped. His nose and mouth pulled forward into a canine muzzle as he watched Remus' body be remade in wood and rot. There was something offensive about being in the same cell as the new monster his friend had become, but he would not show fear to the beast lurking behind the green, glowing eyes.

Every time before, Remus would feel himself removed and shut away inside his own mind. He could fight the beast taking control of him, but it was tiring and would leave him even longer under its spell. This time, however, things were different. 

Remus' legs and arms stiffened and his bones literally dissolved as flesh turned to wood and spread further. He screamed around a broken jaw and swollen tongue as his torso succumbed to the magic and twisted into gnarled and rotted wood. 

Falling to all fours, Remus felt the beast shake his head and snarl in fury—and that was the thing that was the most different for him. Remus could see and hear and feel. But he couldn't control his actions. 

As his head turned, Remus was shown the smaller form of Sirius beside him. Sirius was just a dog—though a big dog. Magic boiled inside Remus and he was flush with power and a sense of indestructibility. 

Sirius looked up at the timberwolf he was locked in a cell with and felt more than a little concerned. Then, when a large (and glowing green) tongue hung out of the beasts' mouth before licking his cheek, he realized it was the same beast as always—just in a much bigger body.

The beast within Remus stood up and shook, then stepped the short distance (for it) to the cell door. Turning his head sideways, the beast opened its maw and clamped down on the vertical bars and started to pull.

Whining up at the monster, Sirius stepped around it to get in its line of sight, then licked the huge monster on the nose. It was an old thing they did—from back when Sirius had first met the beast inside his friend. 

Letting go of the bars, the beast turned toward Sirius and let out a whine—then it lay down on the floor with a thud.





It took two days for Severus to make the potion, and in that time no one had offered to go to the dungeon to capture a likeness of the monster that Sirius had described. 

Minerva, after interviewing as many families she could (under the pretense that they had children attending Hogwarts, so they needed to talk about further schooling) and had pieced together the full story of what had happened.

As she looked down at her notes, she couldn't believe the magnitude of it. They had some pure-bloods, but the vast majority of those who'd made it through were half-blood and muggle-born, and if any had ever possessed more than ten Galleons to their names during their lifetimes, she'd have run around the school in her nightgown—or so she'd confessed to Gemma Farley.

Gemma, Minerva had found, could make herself indispensable. If there was something that needed doing, she only had to tell Gemma and the young woman would figure out a plan of attack and execute it. It was the kind of efficiency and skill that she feared the local Ministry might try to poach. 

It had all become the biggest tightrope walk of Minerva's life, and so far she operating without a net. She wanted to change that, and before her sat somepony who could be that net. "Your Highness. Firstly, I'd like to thank—"

"Dispense with the formalities. I am not a mare who enjoys politics at the best of time—which is why my sister sent me." Luna sat opposite Minerva McGonagall. She still wasn't used to the half-pony shapes the new-old creatures took up, but she could appreciate that in their distant ancestry was ponies, and that made them ponies to Luna too. "What can I do to help?"

Never had six words inspired so much relief in Minerva. "You're a voice for Equestria. Prince Shining Armor and Princess Cadance are both new to this. They put up the best front they can, but I worry that the Ministry are going to stomp all over them."

Luna let out a sigh. "If I'd known this would be a political fight, I'd have brought group of nobles to get in their way. Probably not the most subtle thing, given they aren't nobles of the Crystal Empire…" As she trailed off, Luna had a great idea come to her. It was perfect. "I need to speak to Emperor Shining Armor and Empress Cadance."

Opening her mouth to question the titles, Minerva started to see the wisdom in it before having it pointed out. "Bigger titles mean more absolute rule. That can work for a time, but they'll seek to normalize them, I'm sure."

"No. We'll have a ceremony. Shining and Cadance need a court, and for that they need nobles. Nobles who can be obtuse and get in the way of the Ministry. Nobles that can be given power that would hobble the Ministry." Luna smiled as she warmed to the idea. "It also inspires more loyalty. Care is needed, however, to not put any of these Ministry people in positions of power."

Minerva realized she was too stuck in the ways of British-Wizardry politics. She'd completely missed such a power play because the British royalty would never have gone for it. "Can I leave that in your capable—uh—hooves?"

"Until I need to see you again, of course. You'll excuse me." Luna stood up from the comfortable seat and turned for the door. "You wouldn't have anypony who could advise me on their usual tactics, would you?"

Minerva wanted to suggest Gemma, but the truth of the matter was that Gemma had initiative and drive, but she wasn't as grounded in political intrigue as she thought. That's when the ideal person came to mind. Someone who'd spent their entire life edging around the laws of the Ministry. "I have just the one. I'll have him summoned and sent over to the royal floors as soon as I can."





"Severus, I know we've had our arguments in the past, but for this I can honestly say thank you." Remus had to look down to see Severus' face, but he felt like they were far more equal now than they'd ever been in their lives.

Soaking up the praise for all he was worth, Severus had welcomed the challenge of making the complex potion if only because it forced him to learn his new body—and what he'd discovered had delighted him. As a human, he'd been limited to just two hands at a time—with telekinesis his manipulations were limited only by his concentration.

Of course, Severus had messed up several times (which is why he was days late with the potion, not that he'd tell anybody that), but now he felt comfortable in the nigh-indestructible body he'd found himself. "Yes, well, that should last you throughout this full moon. I'll have more time to plan for the next one."

The subtlety of Severus confirming that he would work on another potion when the time came was a great relief to Remus. He looked down at his still-human hands and clenched them into fists. "If you need my help with anything—anything at all—just ask."

To that all Severus could do was smile. Levitating the potion from the desk beside him, Severus held it out to Remus. "Take it and don't bother me until next month."

Not wanting to risk Severus' apparent good humor, Remus took the potion bottle and turned to leave the potions lab.

Outside, Sirius was waiting for his friend and stepping in beside him as he walked past. "How'd it go with ol' broom-up-his-arse?"

Groaning, Remus looked down at his now-equine blood-brother. A gray crystal coat was combined with dark black hair to make Sirius closely resemble his old self—particularly his canine self. The morning had seen Remus turned back into his human self but when Sirius shed his dog form he was left completely a pony. "He's not that bad, honestly. I think he's actually chilled out a bit since the last time I saw him."

"I was talking to Harry earlier. He said that kirin tend to get angry at the drop of a hat. I watched the boy set himself on fire. He said it was to get his anger out, but I'd be pretty angry too if you set me on fire." Getting used to walking on all-fours wasn't exactly a stretch for Sirius. "He wants to take a break from all this mess. He asked one of the ponies if he could spend the holidays at her library."

Remus couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his lips at the notion. "Her library? She just has a library?" 

"Apparently she lives and works in—get this—the Ponyville library. There's a town named Ponyville. Oh, and their capital is Canterlot." Ignoring the fact he himself was a pony, Sirius found the whole situation hilarious, until he remembered the present. "But I need to be here—at least until the moon has passed."

"It's easier here, despite that—that monster I turned into. It could have shredded the bars, you know? I could feel the power and a sense of absolute determination that it would never be stopped."

"Hold up. You normally remember your wolf time, but you were actually awake for it?"

"Yeah. No dream-wolf-time here, it seems. It felt calmer than usual, but if you hadn't been there it would have gotten free." A shudder ran down Remus' spine. "And I hate to think what would happen if it got loose here."

"That's why I can't go with Harry, Remus. I'm the only one left who can stand by you when you change—I'm not going to leave you alone."

There were a lot of emotions that Remus wanted to show, and words he wished he had the strength to say. "Thanks, Sirius. It means a lot to know that. Sundown is in two hours. I'm going to head down and get ready." Lifting the bottle to his lips, Remus knocked the stopper out with his thumb (and caught it in his other hand), and tipped the potion down his throat.

Like always, Remus began coughing and hiccuping at the horrid taste and effect of the potion. But that just meant it was working.

Following his friend to the dungeon again, Sirius felt that trapped sensation of being in Azkaban again. It had settled upon him the previous night, right up until he'd become a dog. Now, though, it felt like every wall was hiding a dementor.

Remus could feel his friend's nerves and had to do something to douse the fear. "I had Albus strengthen the bars with magic. I don't know if it will help—if the beast takes over again—but I feel safer knowing he had a hand in it." 

Sirius set his wand down across the room from the cage and changed his form before approaching the gate. Walking into the cell wasn't impossible anymore.

Not feeling up to maintaining a one-sided conversation, Remus used the key to lock them both in and then tossed it to the far side of the room—right beside Sirius' wand. He then slowly disrobed and waited.

It ended up taking over an hour of them waiting. During that time Remus' hand had strayed to Sirius' head and he started petting his friend. They never spoke aloud of these moments—when the sun was nearing the horizon and the full moon was waiting to ambush the night. They both worked on instincts.

Then it started. Agony, as always, played over every nerve in Remus' body. He screamed and howled for reprieve, but after a minute of struggling it was finally over. And the beast was the one in the back seat this time. 

And the beast wasn't happy about it. It howled into his mind and raked at the barrier the potion had formed around it, but Remus was free of the curse's mental grip. Lifting his head, he shook some leaves and twigs free before realizing that was part of him.

A whine from his side drew Remus' attention to Sirius. His friend looked up at him with what Remus felt was a sad, questioning look. All Remus could do to remark on his form was to nod.





Fire Glow had hoped to put his human life behind him. He could pass well enough for a crystal pony if he kept to walking on all fours, but nudity was a grating issue. "Your Highnesses, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He bowed as deep as he could, excited that a niche had finally been found so he could make amends for his previous life—that of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"What is your name?" Luna asked.

This brought Fire Glow up short. He'd expected a lot of things, but brutal and forthright command wasn't one of them. "Now I go by Fire Glow."

"Then let's change that again." Luna turned and looked to Cadance. "Your Imperial Majesties, I might suggest duke."

"Duke?!" Fire Glow asked. "Wait, Imperial Majesties?"

Shining addressed Fire Glow's questions. "We have a group of Ministry of Magic people who made it over before the rifts closed. So far they've just been passive, but we're sure they will start causing actual trouble by trying to take power piecemeal. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall sent you to advise us on ways to subvert them—Duke Fire Glow."

"Oh." It all made sense now, and Fire Glow could see they wanted him not despite his history, but because of it. Twisting his old ways to do good seemed appropriate to him. "The first and most important thing is distraction. No matter what actions you take, either they are absolutely power plays that they cannot bend or twist, or you ensure they are untraceable."

Blinking a few times in surprise, Shining Armor felt a grin grow into place. "Yeah, we got the right guy. Okay, you'll be working with us to organize this preventative assault. We'll be arranging a ceremony to make your title official in three days—that gives everypony enough time to prepare a celebration to unify the crystal ponies and human-ponies."

Intrigue, lies, public opinion, and marketing—it was all the things Fire Glow's old life had been but for good rather than selfish reasons. "I am at your disposal."





It was all wrong. A full moon lasted three nights and that should have been his last night. Remus was human again, but he could still feel the intent of the moon. It was full and ready to make his next night a living hell. "S-Sirius?"

Lifting his head from the floor where he'd been sleeping, Sirius was confused at first. Slowly regaining both his conscious mind and his human faculties, he slipped his form toward "normal", and was soon a sooty-gray crystal pony. "Is something wrong, Remus?"

"I can feel the moon again. It's coming and it won't stop. Sirius, I can't go on like this. What do I do?" Remus' hands were shaking and he couldn't stop the terror that was eating at the edges of his mind. "Do they have a full moon every night here?!"

"I don't know, but I think we know who to ask. This is too much for us now." 

Remus' hand found Sirius' head again and started petting out of habit and nerves. "W-Who?"

It took them almost an hour to get cleaned up and presentable, and then a few more minutes to make their way down to the main entrance of the crystal castle section of the combined castle. They approached together, each using the other for emotional support. When they approached a pair of armed and armored pony guards, they were surprised by the doors the two were guarding opening.

Luna stepped out of the hall after her meeting with Cadance and Shining. She felt sure that their ploy would work, but was still worried about things going wrong that she couldn't foresee. Almost completely ignoring the two new arrivals, she paused when one gave her a strange sensation—a portent of danger. "Who goes there?"

It wasn't uncommon for even those who'd never met Luna before to be cowed into silence in her presence, but all Remus could do was stare at the pattern on Luna's flank.

"Excuse my friend here. My name is Sirius Black and this is Remus Lupin. We are here to see—"

Remus cut in, his mind on a completely different tack. "Moon. One of the students said that a pony's special talent is the image on their hip. What do you have to do with the moon?" 

The desperation combined with something she couldn't place was curious to Luna, and she decided to humor the human with a conversation. "I am Princess Luna and my domain is the night. As my sister—Princess Celestia—raises the sun during the day, I raise the moon at night. Do we have any business?"

His legs wobbled and gave out. Remus dropped to the hard floor and collapsed at Luna's hooves. "Please don't raise the moon tonight."

If Luna were curious before, now she was intrigued. "Why? What is going on here?"

"Can we speak about it in private—uh, Your Highness?" Sirius looked at the guards and tried to reach out to his friend to lift him up but, before he could manage, a blue glow surrounded Remus and seemed to focus under one of his arms.

"Follow me," Luna said.

Remus didn't have much choice. Hauled to his feet by the blue light, he felt something inside him calm at the magical touch. It was like the urgency and rising panic of his impending change was just drained away. "W-What have you done?"

"You're a were-timberwolf. I can feel that now I've touched you with my magic. How long have you had this condition?" Luna had felt many such cursed in the days before her banishment, but it seemed to be far less common in modern-day Equestria.

"Where are we going?" Questions just kept tumbling from Remus' lips and they all went unanswered, though he felt compelled to answer Luna. "Over thirty years."

Luna almost stumbled in her step. "Thirty years is a long time to be cursed such. A curse becomes part of you after that much time and is impossible to separate from your sense of self."

"Err, the timberwolf part is new, but I've been a werewolf as far back as I can remember. I was infected with it when I was five."

"We're going outside. What I plan will not work in the safe confines of a castle." Turning her head and looking back, Luna noticed Sirius following them. "Who are you?"

Forced to look up at Luna, Sirius was all too aware that his canine form was actually bigger than his adult pony size. "Marauders look after each other." The words had tumbled out. Sirius had no idea why he'd spoken the private name for their group.

"Please. Sirius has helped me since we were at school together. He can keep me calm." Remus too looked back at his friend and watched Sirius trotting after them.

"Follow me." Still supporting Remus, Luna led them out the front gates of the castle—ignoring further questions. It wasn't that she didn't want to answer them, she just believed that answering them would make what came next harder.

Remus would have pulled away from Luna if her magic didn't ease the sense of panic that being within the days of a full moon caused. When he realized she was leading the way to the woods surrounding the Crystal Empire, however, a new worry hit him. "W-Where are we going?"

"This is not the natural habitat of timberwolves, but the forests here are close enough. I want you to draw on the beast and let it overtake you." As she stepped into the tree line, Luna let go of Remus.

Falling to the ground as real panic hit him, Remus found Sirius planting all four of his paws (Remus had been to distracted to see his friend change) between Remus and Luna. "But—"

"No buts. I promise you I will not let you harm a single pony while you're out here." Letting magic flood into her, Luna let it pool out and impose a small section of night time upon the woods around them.

Slowly Remus' breathing evened out and his panic subsided. "Everyone's safe?"

"My word and my power will keep it so. In the old times I was known as a huntress—a warrior who stalked the night so much that it became my domain. You straddle the divide between day and night, and while you do that nopony can help you. You must accept what you are and make peace with it." As she spoke, Luna let her magic now flow into both the beings she'd brought with her.

Sirius, Luna could feel, was a good pony—if a bit of a rogue. She could sense such devotion and courage in him that it would make a Royal Guard jealous, but there was also darkness. She liked that.

Remus was another case. Where Sirius was at peace with his emotions, Remus was a mercurial ball of feelings that shifted from a normal, balanced individual to screaming panic depending on the time of month and day. 

Trying to take in as much of Luna's calm as he could, Remus was about to embrace the change on his own terms for the first time in his life when he remembered he was dressed. Reaching to his throat, he started to unbutton the shirt he'd put on. Piece by piece he undressed, and though he was standing on snow barefoot and naked, he didn't feel cold.

With the artificial night around him, Remus could feel the beast wanting to get out. Normally he'd be fighting it tooth and nail to keep it from getting free. "Come." Remus' voice was soft, the word meant for the beast inside. 

For a moment Remus thought the beast would fight him anyway, but it put away its claws and simply walked up to the fore and stepped through his flesh.

Pain radiated from every single joint in Remus' body—and even from some he didn't have as a human. Normally a fast process, the beast seemed content to go slowly, pushing its way into his body and forcing him to change around it.

Luna felt sick at the screams of pain and sounds of bones breaking and reknitting. She hadn't expected the process to hurt Remus so much, but gradually she could sense the pain was being taken up by the beast inside him rather than left entirely to Remus.

It felt like a cool rush of water poured through Remus. The pain was still there, but he was only feeling half as much. It was the first time the beast had shown him any compassion, but for him, this was a monumental step. 

But, Remus was no longer in control of his body.

Lifting its head, the beast was more accustomed to its new form now. It could smell snow and forest and its brother and a new scent. Looking ahead, it spotted Luna and its glowing eyes flared brighter still.

Far from showing fear, Luna stepped forward—eyes locked on the timberwolf's own. Extending her magic, she brought it around the beast and healed it. She sent tendrils of growing magic into the old rotting wood and she helped it rejuvenate and sprout new leaves. 

Friendliness wasn't in the beast's lexicon, however. It felt healthier and stronger, but it still didn't trust Luna. Opening its jaws, the beast roared at her and pounced.

Sirius, in the instant Remus flew over his head, contemplated what it would mean to be guilty of killing—or just aiding in killing—a princess. Remus was graceful and seemed like an unstoppable object—until he stopped. 

Luna held the timberwolf in the air with her magic. Its snout was mere inches from her own. "You're over a thousand years too young to overpower me like this. Try again."

Tossed away from Luna, Remus was in awe of the control she held. There were multiple spell effects around them, and she'd just grabbed the beast out of the air with her mind and tossed it away.

Thumping its back into a tree and loosing some of the new growth it'd gained, the beast jumped back to its paws and turned toward Luna again. Howling in anger, it raced at her again—this time forsaking a pouncing leap to maintain the ability to dodge with its paws on the ground.

Remus couldn't even tell the moment when the beast's paws lost contact with the ground and it was flying through the air again. 

When he watched Luna toss Remus through the air a third time, Sirius approached Luna's side and let his form shift and change—pulling him back into the guise of a pony. "How long can you keep this up?"

"This? Forever." Luna grabbed up Remus again and tossed him aside. This time, when the timberwolf lifted its head, it looked at her but didn't attack. "How often does your world have full moons?"

"One every month or so, this would last for three days."

"And he never let the"—Luna tossed the beast's half-hearted charge off by blasting snow into its face—"beast out to play?"

"Like this? Never. There's not much on Earth that could stop a werewolf on its own, let alone one of these things. Is it lolling its tongue?"

Luna did the math in her head. "It's barely an adult. Two to three years old and it has never known anything that can stand against it. What you have here is a child that has never been told no." 

The beast wasn't losing endurance—the timberwolf body it had now could keep attacking until Luna did enough damage to disable it—but it was starting to realize it had no chance of swatting Luna down. Instead of anger or fury, like a human might have, it instead turned to curiosity. 

Remus was shocked at the feelings the beast gave him as it walked slowly closer to Luna. It was interested to find out what Luna was and why she seemed able to toss it around so easily.

"It's not afraid?" Sirius asked.

"I have been careful not to inflict any actual damage to it. Those branches and pieces it shed are easily replaced by a healthy timberwolf." Luna didn't toss the timberwolf away when it got close this time, instead giving it a chance to smell her from closer range. Reaching out with a hoof, she let it get her scent.

"I've never seen it act like this. If, like you say, it has the mentality of a pup, are you going to be the stern teacher it needs?" Wincing, Sirius watched as Remus was within bare inches of Luna's hoof.

"Me? Of course not. The teacher it needs is in its head. Remus is no young colt, and it's about time he lent some of his own years to his alter ego." With the timberwolf lying in the snow before her, Luna reached to its neck with her magic and started rubbing the wood there.

Remus and his beast both lost all sense of urgency or sense. The rubbing at their neck somehow knew exactly the right place to stroke to make them both relax. 

"You need to work this out between you. I can feel the dual natures within you, Remus, and you have to accept this other side of yourself." Reaching up to the timberwolf's ears, Luna stroked them just as she remembered. The result of her efforts was a wagging tail.

The rest of the day and half the night Remus spent in the most relaxed time ever with his beast. It played with Luna—happy to be tossed around while it tried to get to her. Remus even helped it, telling it to use guile when brute force was not working. But, even at their best, they couldn't get close enough to Luna to even touch her.

Before the night was over, Remus felt the beast let go of its control. It was a shock for him to feel it happen and for him to be in control of the monstrous form. He sat up and shook his head, then let out a whine.

Luna barely had to reach out and touch Remus to discover what had changed. "Well, now you can show your friend how it's done. Come at me."

Excitement boiled inside Remus. For so many hours he'd watched the beast try to reach Luna and never once did it get a touch on her. Turning, he walked off into the forest and started to put a plan together. A frontal charge wouldn't work, and he was pretty sure she could have stopped a freight train in its tracks with her magic. That left being tricky.

But he knew she'd be ready for him. It wasn't any sense he could pin down, but he could sense in her that she was a fighter of much experience. And he was a teacher and wizard with a few tricks up his sleeve and nothing remotely like experience with the huge brawling-fighter body he was in. 

That's when it dawned on Remus, he didn't have to be in this body. He was in control. This is going to hurt, he thought.

The change back to human always came with some pain, but not as much as the beast caused. Remus gritted his teeth and put up with it as he turned into a naked wizard in the snow. "Great thinking, Remus. No wand." But Albus Dumbledore hadn't hired him on as a teacher because Remus Lupin lacked the magical chops to be a teacher.

He had to focus on all the possible patterns he could, given he lacked his wand, and even so he only barely managed to hold the spell together long enough to cast the Amplifying charm on his own throat. Remus dared not utter a sound as he called on the beast to help him turn back into a timberwolf.

The beast was curious what Remus intended. It showed him how to summon the better form (according to the beast) and pull his flesh over it.

Remus and the beast clenched their jaws against the pain and railed at the sensation of their body being half ripped apart—and they did it together.

Shaking a few branches free from his shoulder, Remus felt the forest all around him—the trees in particular welcoming one of their guardians. It was so unlike being a regular werewolf that he almost stopped in his tracks and just walked off into the forest.

But Remus had something to do. He felt a driving need to prove himself to Luna. He had to do the best he could—and the beast agreed with him. Pacing slowly around in an arc, he began coming up on Luna's left side and, just before the moment he'd expect to be spotted by her, he shouted/growled as loud as he could and pounced.

Luna turned as she heard something move to her side, her ears training on the spot it came from. This meant she got a full blast from Remus' magically enhanced voice. Slightly stunned, she wasn't fast enough to grab him in the air and instead had to throw herself to the side. 

When Luna opened her eyes, she was looking up into those of a timberwolf. Then a long tongue stroked her cheek before Remus shifted his form again—back to human.

"That was amazing!" Remus' blood was still pumping fast after his successful hunt. Naked, he seemed unable to feel the chill of the snow even as some drifted down onto his shoulders and into his hair. 

Reaching her forehooves up to her head, Luna covered her ears. "Now I know how everypony else feels. Please, moderate your voice."

Quickly dispelling his charm, Remus cleared his throat softly to test it and, sure enough, he was quiet again. "I know this isn't completely a cure, but I have to thank you for this. It's a start, and I think the beast likes you enough that it wouldn't have hurt you if it had caught you."

"A good session, nonetheless." Luna rolled to her belly and stood up. She remembered the lick on her cheek and did her best not to blush while telling herself it was just the animal instincts of Remus' coming out. "Shall we head back?"

Remus, his mind wandering, looked up and froze. The full moon was in the night sky still. All his life that he could remember had revolved around the moon and being fearful of it. "It's beautiful."

Luna lost control of her blush and it colored her cheeks under her fur. "My sister could only ever move it around. It takes a special affinity to be able to keep the moon full every night for our ponies."

"Why full?" Sirius had been shocked when Remus had managed to catch Luna off-guard, and shocked further at him not going for her throat. Using a quick locomotion charm, he lifted Remus' clothes and passed them to him.

"The full moon presses back the worst of the darkness. It folds shadows away and gives the night a magical feel. A few ponies complained about not having a regular cycle, but even they admitted that it felt safer at night." Drawing her magic back around her, Luna let the woods around them settle into a normal nighttime. "We should head back."

Pulling his pants up, Remus noticed something. "I have a tail now?"

"The process is normally slow, or so I'm told. As you use magic, you will change more and more." Luna was waiting for Remus to get dressed. "It's a nice tail." The moment she said it, Luna realized how it might be interpreted and wished she could just rewind a few seconds.

Looking over his shoulder at the cascade of blue/black hair coming from his rump, Remus gave it a little wag to test the muscles out. There was both more and less to his tail than he thought there would be. He didn't have much experience with horses, and didn't realize there would be a long dock running almost halfway down his thigh. "I've had worse."





It had started a day before the ceremony. Fire Glow sat in attendance as a simple note-taker when Herbert Trencent was announced and made his way into the throne room. Sitting to the side with stacks of paper and a quill in his mouth, Fire was allowed to pay full attention to what would be discussed without any need to actually record anything.

"Your Highnesses, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Herbert removed his hat, deeming it the perfect occasion for such a monuments event. "I have come to render what assistance I can for the upcoming celebration."

It was an eventuality that Fire had already come up with and they'd discussed. He tried not to sigh—and managed it only by dint of his lifelong acting career.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Cadance said. "This is a welcoming gesture by ponies for their long-lost kin—be they human or crystal pony. Please, just relax and enjoy the festivities." It was a prepared statement, but being canned meant Cadance could focus on her delivery: perky, happy, and completely care-free. 

The reply left little room for Herbert to maneuver. He had a lot of pretty words he could have used if left the slightest gap, but Cadance had been very final—and yet completely friendly at the same time. It was a niggling feeling that ate at the back of his mind. He couldn't decide if she were truly just being friendly or if she was playing hardball. "It sounds wonderful." 

Cadance's smile became more legitimate. She recognized the slightest trace of annoyance in Herbert's tone, and she knew for sure that if he was annoyed, it was good for the Crystal Empire. "I hope I'll see you there?" When she saw a twitch in Herbert's eye, Cadance knew she'd won this little battle.

It both reassured Herbert and vexed him that Cadance was playing politics so well. On one hand, he pondered, knowing that she was competent in running a nation was a huge relief, but on the other it made manipulating her far harder. "But of course. I wouldn't dream of missing it."

The moment Herbert had bid Cadance farewell and was out the door, Fire Glow started giggling.

Tilting her head and raising an eyebrow, Cadance could see that her advisor was enjoying himself. "He walked right into it. Hadn't he considered for even a second that I wouldn't put up with his horse-apples?"

Horse-apples wasn't a term Fire Glow was familiar with, but he could certainly extrapolate its meaning based on context. "The moment you started on the script he knew he'd lost. You were perfect, Your Hi—"

"Don't. Please, Fire, just call me Cadance."

"I shall not, Your Highness, because I am an advisor and courtier, and it would be bad form if I were to forget that at the wrong moment. If you can put up with Herbert Trencent, you can put up with me using your titles and honorrifics." Fire Glow watched Cadance register curiosity and resignation in equal measure. "Don't worry, though, I will not be using that title after tomorrow night."

For a moment Cadance saw hope, then she realized what he meant and groaned.

"After tomorrow you will be Your Imperial Majesty." Fire Glow had to dodge the wadded up paper that was launched his way—and he managed for the first few pieces—but there was no way he could dodge hundreds of screwed up balls of paper coming at him at once. "What about a truce?"

With a dozen piece of paper in the air floating around her, Cadance paused in her assault. "I'm listening."

"It seems that with a change in status you could modify the rules of address a little. Perhaps a full address is only required initially, then sire or madam after that?" It was, Fire Glow hoped, a compromise that would save him a lot of lengthy addresses too.

"That will literally be my first decree, Duke Fire Glow."





Gemma Farley was delighted at the power-play this event had been. She knew her own talents in the field of politics and diplomacy were good, but this was brilliance in her mind. She mingled and chatted about small things, but every single Ministry wizard or witch present had a pony wandering around with them.

Insinuating herself into a conversation between a junior Ministry witch and a pony, Gemma nodded to each. "They're not letting much happen they don't have a tight rein on."

"Ha. Who can blame them?" Jenny Sparks made no attempt to censor or moderate herself. The orders had been for every single member of the Ministry to attend the party—and she hated it. "This is their home turf. I'd be careful handling strange wizards too. Isn't that right, uh…?" 

"Candle Light." Candle wasn't exactly a spy. Before being frozen in magic for a thousand years she'd been a spy—now she was just an undercover diplomat. "And I'm with you. This whole thing is a load of codswallop." It wasn't, not in Candle's mind, but she was meant to be friends with the witch she was escorting.

Her ears perking, Gemma tried to look closer at Candle without giving the game away. "I've been thinking of joining the Ministry myself, though that might be impossible now."

Looking around, Jenny waited until she was sure there was no one listening from outside their little triad. "Trencent is trying to recruit, but he's not getting very far. All the people who were trying to get through were being blocked by the Ministry right up until old man Weasley bullied him to open it. Everyone saw that. Everyone knows where their loyalties lie."

"Weasley…" Gemma turned the name over in her head. She knew about the Weasleys, of course, but the head of the family was more of a mystery to her. "What's he doing with that loyalty?"

"Ducked his 'ead down and started getting everyone sorted with somewhere to stay and food, on top of looking after his own fa—" Cutting short when she saw another Ministry wizard wander past, Jenny noted that there was a pony walking around with them, too. 

Jenny Sparks was a trained detective. She wasn't exactly the best, but she started to see a connection. Turning to Candle, she raised an eyebrow. "And you're going to tell the prince and princess everything, aren't you?"

"No. I wouldn't tell them everything." Candle could tell when the gig was up. "I'll only tell them the important bits."

Barking a laugh, Jenny couldn't help but grin. "Yeah. I didn't join the Ministry to be a political tool. I'm meant to help witches an' wizards, ya know? This?" She lifted her cup—tried to ignore the red crystalline flesh her hand was made of now—and gulped down the contents.

"What blood-purity are you?" It was the most crass and direct way of asking, but Gemma judged the witch wouldn't put up with games.

"Both me parents were muggles. Guess I get to keep these, right?" Holding up her other hand, Jenny examined her delicate fingers.

"Yeah." Gemma felt more than a little jealous—Jenny's crystal color was, in her eyes, amazing. "Lucky."

Jenny laughed again at seeing Gemma raise a hoof. "Ugh, sorry, but it is kinda a lucky thing. Guess you can mingle a lot easier with the other ponies."

The thought hadn't actually occurred to Gemma before, but it made sense. In a way, her becoming a full pony meant she could fit in better with ponies and work with them easier. "Yeah."

Turning to look at Candle, Jenny sighed. "And this is where you offer to have me become an informant, isn't it?"

"Do they tell you anything you think would be useful?" Candle asked.

Jenny's snort was answer enough.

"Besides," Candle said, "I like you. You have a great sense of humor."

The frankness surprised Jenny. "Aren't you supposed to be all smooth and cunning t' get me to tell you everything I know?"

Candle picked up her own drink and took a long pull from it. "I'm stuck here too. I could be off making friends in Yakyakistan or establishing a listening post in Griffonstone, but the prince and—"

"Mares and gentlecolts, ladies and gentlemen, and all otherwise assembled," Luna said, deploying the Royal Canterlot Voice with ruthless abandon, "it is my honor and privilege to represent Equestria's interests here tonight by introducing Prince Shining Armor and Princess"—Luna spotted Cadance's hard stare and wondered briefly if she should use her contemporary's full name—"Cadance, both of the Crystal Empire."

It was calculated carefully to show that Cadance and Shining had Equestria's full support. Nopony would question Luna's words for being anything but fact. Cadance stepped up on the stage beside Luna and made room for Shining to flank her. "Thank you, Princess Luna of Equestria. Today, in the interests of properly taking the throne here in the Crystal Empire, I've invited you all to witness a small ceremony of sorts."

It was Shining's turn to speak. They'd weighed up the words and measured them out equally, despite him being more than happy with Cadance doing the whole thing. "Firstly, in order to properly assume the throne as is the will of the inhabitants—Princess Luna, if you would do the honors?"

"Thank you." Luna looked out at the sea of faces—a mix of equine and human, sometimes on the same person—and deemed a stern look her best choice. Levitating up the first crown and peytral, she turned to Cadance. "As one sovereign to another, I—Princess Luna of Equestria—do crown you Empress Cadance of the Crystal Empire."

The room went dead silent. Everyone heard as the peytral was fastened around Cadance's neck and even the crown made a soft sound that was clearly audible as it rested upon her head.

Turning to Shining now, Luna fetched the second crown and peytral. "Shining Armor, you shall henceforth be known as Emperor Shining Armor of the Crystal Empire." A few gasps came from the audience, but they were barely heard when a huge cheer went up. The crystal ponies in the room began stomping their hooves like crazy, joined in with clapping from those still possessing hands. "I believe that ends my exercising of authority here." The Royal Canterlot Voice could cut through the wildest of cheering. "So I'll turn this over to the newest royal couple in the world."

Stepping forward, his pace measured to coincide with Cadance's own motion, Shining looked out across the smiling faces of every pony in the room—and a few sour ones on the odd Ministry wizard here and there. "Thank you, everyone, for coming here to witness this, but we have a little more to do."

"There are some ponies and some humans who have shown themselves to not only support the Crystal Empire, but they put their lives and reputations on the line to ensure we could be standing here tonight. Some are present, but some will need to be notified by other means." Cadance looked at Luna and got a nod.

"First," Shining Armor said, "please welcome Fire Glow."

Not realizing he'd be first to be called, Fire stepped up on the stage in absolute terror that his old ways would take over. Then he looked up at Shining and felt his old need for the spotlight melt. Here was a person—a pony—that deserved the spotlight. "Your Imperial Majesty," Fire said, dipping his head and bowing.

It was such a turn-around for him, but Fire Glow had put the life of Gilderoy Lockhart firmly into his past and use it as a reason to be better. Not that he wouldn't use everything he'd learned to do the right thing now.

"We find ourselves in turbulent times and need allies, confidants, and advisors—which is why we invite you to be all three as the first Duke of the Northern Reaches of the Crystal Empire." Shining lifted the spear he'd brought with him from Canterlot—that could have sliced through the enchanted walls of the castle—and brought it down gently to each shoulder of Fire Glow. "Please stand, Duke Fire Glow."

"Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty." Fire Glow knew his time on the dais was over. He stood and walked off to the side to where he'd been standing before—in the shadows no longer, of course, now that he'd been recognized officially.

"Our next guest already holds great esteem within Equestria, but that doesn't stop a proud sister from extending her own realm's honor in recognition of her work to protect it." Cadance stepped forward, taking possession of Shining's spear and the foremost position on the dais both. "Twilight Sparkle, please come up here so I can thank you for your part in saving the Crystal Empire."

Stepping out of the crowd with not a little bit of shock on her face, Twilight walked up to the dais only to be embraced by Cadance. "I didn't really—"

"Shh, Twilight. You did more than enough. Now let me show you how much it means to us that you did." Raising her voice again, Cadance brandished the spear when Twilight knelt. "I hereby invite you to join our peerage as Duchess of the Eastern Reaches of the Crystal Empire." Performing the same ritual with the deadly weapon, Cadance felt a thrill in the ability to acknowledge friends for their work. "Please stand, Duchess Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight was at a bit of a loss. She'd helped, of course, but this was a bit much for her to be able to comprehend. She liked her library and liked being in Ponyville with her friends. "Uh, thank you?"

Cadance didn't hesitate to pull Twilight into another hug. "It's the best I can do to publicly thank you."

"Well, I mean, a card would have done." Twilight's best dorky-sarcasm, she was happy to see, brought a bigger smile to Cadance's face. "Now can I go hide in obscurity again?"

Walking up beside his wife, Shining got close enough to her that their shoulders and flanks touched. "No, Twily, you need to stand over there and keep Fire Glow company."

Waiting for Twilight to take her place with Fire, Shining cleared his throat. "The third I wanted to thank is, likewise, a hero of the Crystal Empire. When seemingly alien intruders appeared out of nowhere, this woman had the bravery to hold out a hand in friendship. Minerva McGonagall, please approach."

It came as much of a shock to Minerva as it had to Twilight. She looked around for support—Gemma Farley was on one side of her while her conversation partner, Pomona Sprout, was on the other—but found no one inclined to "save" her. Lifting her chin, Minerva walked up and to the dais.

"I hereby invite you to join our peerage as Duchess of the Southern Reaches of the Crystal Empire." Shining wondered if she'd kneel, but eventually Minerva did. Bringing the spear down carefully, he framed her more humanoid form with the magically sharp blade. "Please stand, Duchess Minerva McGonagall."

"I-I don't know what to say. This is an honor, and I hope to never disappoint you or those who look to me for my guidance." Minerva felt oddly moved by the action. In her home, titles were awarded very publicly, something witches and wizards could never be there. But here the leaders of the country were magic users themselves. 

Walking with as much poise as she could on two hooves, Minerva took her place standing—towering—above Duchess Twilight Sparkle and Duke Fire Glow. And there was another can of worms for her. She knew he was Gilderoy Lockhart, and now she knew what the rake had done she held him in low regard—but he genuinely seemed to have changed. 

Cadance gave a nod to Minerva and turned to the assembled. "It probably comes as no small surprise that we intend to complete the cardinal directions. Though she doesn't realize we intended to, I will have to invite Princess Luna of Equestria to approach me."

This caused Luna's heart to jump. For several long seconds she wondered if she should turn it down. Biting her lower lip, she wondered what her sister would do. Eat cake, Luna thought. But she knew a few things for sure. Walking forward, Luna approached the dais from the front, raising an eyebrow to Cadance.

"Firstly, I will never ask you to kneel in my presence, nor expect it of a fellow ruler. I wish only to thank you for your advice and your help by making you Duchess of the Western Reaches of the Crystal Empire." Rather than raising the spear, Cadance just reached out to hug Luna.

It was not what Luna expected, but she realized she should have. Hugging Cadance, she realized the scene had been carefully designed to not belittle her. She also realized it meant Cadance expected future help. "This is acceptable."

"Please turn, Duchess Luna, Princess of Equestria." Cadance was careful to keep all of Luna's titles, though she put the newest one first. As Luna made her way to round out the group of four, Cadance moved to the side for Shining.

"Four dukes and duchesses doesn't make a court, but it's a start. We plan to expand the number of peers of the Crystal Empire, but for tonight this will do." Shining Armor bowed his head to those assembled. "Please, enjoy the entertainment and the food."

Jenny waited until the general noise level of the room rose before she said, "See, now that's how to tell a good leader—they tell you what you want to hear and make sure it's something you care about."

"You're talking about the food, right?" Candle asked.

Already leading the way to the buffet table, Jenny nodded. "Best stodge I've ever seen. Here, what's in these?"

Watching Jenny scoop up several treats, Candle took one with her hoof and tried it. "Tastes vaguely of fish. That's more of a thing for the ponies down south, but it's not the most terrible food. I guess it agrees with you?"

"I mean, nothing like a pork pie, but tastes good. What's this one?" Jenny wasn't all that loyal to any one of the canapés, preferring to browse around to find the one she enjoyed most.

Joining Jenny in the small feasting, Candle tried the one suggested and shuddered. "Tastes like some kind of curried egg thing. Not my favorite."

"That's it exactly! Oh, man, if I could find out who made this I'd marry 'em." Not bothering to hide her enthusiasm, Jenny shoveled more of the snacks into her mouth. She'd noticed that Gemma had drifted away. "What if I didn't want to be part of the Ministry anymore?"

"Then you tell them you're done and come work for us. You don't have to tattle on them, we just value good magic users who want to help everyone." Recognizing she needed to be somewhat delicate, Candle didn't press too hard.

"Yeah, not going to work that way, Candle. You see, when they think you know something important to them—even if you don't know it—they just pop, memory charm." That, honestly, was enough to terrify Jenny.

It was a term Candle had been warned to gather all the information she could on. "What's a memory charm?"

The taste of the food had soured now. Jenny felt her teeth grind together and she had the almost uncontrollable desire to set a lot of things on fire. "A spell that will suppress your memories. It can be just one, a whole event, or—or everything."

That was enough of a description to test Candle's ability to not react. Memory erasure was a heck of a nasty piece of business assuming one thing. "How long's it last?"

"Forever."

Candle was starting to learn to dislike this Ministry. "And they use that on officers leaving their service? I take it you know—"

"I'm not much more than a policewoman. I was about to take over the beat at Hogsmeade when all this happened and I was pulled in to help."

"And why do you think they'd use this memory charm if you asked to leave?" Candle had some information to give to her rulers, but she also found herself wanting to help Jenny.

"The current leader of the Ministry here is Herbert Trencent. His job at the Ministry was to investigate accidents and catastrophes, and when they were cleaned up he would personally blow away all memory of them. He'd muttered about using memory charms on all the ponies here and establishing order—probably would have gone through with it if so many hadn't left with knowledge of humans." Jenny could see in Candle's eyes that she was giving the mare a lot of information that probably did make her a target for obliviation. "Well, shit."

Sensing Jenny's defeat, Candle reached a hoof out to her leg to pat it. "So, what's say we leave here and find somewhere cozy for you with a couple of big stallions with powerful magic to keep the nasty wizards away?"

Jenny knew she was already sinking. She had to start swimming and had just been offered a lifeline. "Why don't we do that? You know some nice stallions?" Stallions, mares—Jenny wouldn't be overly bothered which at that moment. She could stand toe-to-toe with any wizard in an evocation duel, but obliviators as good at their job as Herbert Trencent would barely flinch while scrubbing her mind clear as a whistle.

"Grab some more snacks. Try to look like you're disinterested. Munch them while we walk to the right. See those three ponies over there? That's our target." The important thing was to make it look like Jenny was leading the way, Candle knew. If they thought she was leading Jenny anywhere, they might act. "That's it. How're those egg-things now?"

"They taste like ash. The worst bit is I don't know if they know that I—"

"Jenny Sparks?" Nymphadora Tonks spotted her old friend and approached her. "It is you! Hey, Jen, I didn't know you were stuck here too."

Caught like a deer in headlights, Jenny stared at Nymphadora as she approached. Their time together in Hogwarts along with their time training in basic classes to join the Ministry had been years ago now. She knew that her friend was studying to be an auror, which was now enough to make Jenny's blood run cold. 

"Y-Yeah. I was just chatting with, uh, Candle here. She was stuck in this place for a thousand years—right, Candle?" Jenny's eyes flicked toward the three stallions again and—this close—she noticed the fur markings on their backs and heads where armor would have sat. Soldiers. Combat magic was a whole other kettle of fish even from her own pyromancy.

"Oh?" Nymphadora's attention turned to Candle. "What's it like being free?"

"You don't know how free it is. That monster that came through the portal at the last second? He used to rule this land with mind-control and tyranny. I was hanging around the city trying to get some friends to leave with me when he went and ripped it away to your world." They were the same words that had been officially released, so Candle felt no compunction about repeating them. 

"C-Can you just excuse me for a sec, Tonks?" Jenny remembered at the last second not to use Nymphadora's first name. She pointed to the buffet table just beside the stallions. "Have you seen these deviled egg things?"

The sudden shift in topic seemed odd to Nymphadora. She focused on Jenny and followed her to the snack table. With most of the crowd behind them, she leaned a little closer. "What's up?"

Only a few paces from safety, Jenny let out a sigh and turned to look back at the crowd. "Tonks, you're not working for Trencent, are you? I mean, everyone technically is, but you're not, like, one of his cronies?"

"I'm an auror, well, almost. He doesn't have any jurisdiction over me." Her tone sharp, Nymphadora grit her teeth against the urge to blow off steam with some magic. She was still human, and she felt like it counted for something. "What's he doing?"

"W-Well, you know he was one of the chief obliviators back 'ome, right? I heard that anyone who wants to leave the Ministry here gets obliviated—you know, so they don't spill any important information." Doing her best to forget that she'd already done that, Jenny tried to edge the pair of them closer to the stallions.

Not bothering to pause and think about what she was going to say, Nymphadora nodded toward the door behind the three big ponies beside them. "Let's head outside and talk about this."

"Yeah." Candle looked up at Jenny and nodded. "Let's head out and talk about this." Her next nod was toward the three stallions. As Jenny, Candle, and Nymphadora stepped out through the door, two of the stallions turned and followed.

Outside of the ballroom, Jenny let out the tightness in her chest. She looked at Nymphadora and felt a little of it returning. "Tonks, what are you—?"

"You have every right to leave the Ministry, Jen, but will you help me investigate this claim of obliviation? An auror's job is normally to chase down dark magic users, but my teacher taught me that hunting down any misuse of magic was part of a good auror's job description." Waiting for Jenny's nod, Nymphadora focused her attention on the other human, eyes catching every detail of hair, bone, and flesh. Reaching out, she took Jenny's hand and examined the crystal. "Damn but this is harder to do than normal human."

Jenny had seen Nymphadora use her ability before, but this didn't make it less shocking when the woman before her slowly became her.

"What in the crystal…? What is she?" Candle asked, while the guards both suddenly took a defensive stance.

Putting herself between the two guards and Nymphadora, Jenny held out her arms to shield her friend. "Hold up. She's just a metamorphmagus. She can, well, change her appearance. That's really freaky, Tonks."

"Well, try to imagine how it is from this side. I don't think I can get these hands right. Can I just wear gloves?" Holding up her hands, Nymphadora revealed the dull not-actually-crystal pattern that was her best effort. A pair of worn leather gloves grew up and over her fingers.

Jenny shook her head to try to shake the experience of talking to herself out of it. It didn't work. "Why are you doing this, Tonks?"

"Because I believe in what the Ministry should be. This—this is the best chance for a different Ministry than the political hodgepodge that we left on Earth. Here we can make a positive difference in the life of witches, wizards—and ponies." Nymphadora's features seethed for a moment, her hair turning to bright purple a moment before she softened it back to Jenny's orange. "And because, if Trencent is trying to go counter to that, he has a big problem to contend with. Me."

The little speech stirred Jenny. She felt a little of the fire of her determination when she joined the Ministry return, and it lingered for several seconds before she remembered Trencent and all his political plays. "Tonks, if it were up to me, you'd be running the Ministry. If you do wind up doing that one day, let me know and I might come back."

Candle cleared her throat. "Miss Tonks—I assume that's your name—if you have trouble with your plan, and you need somewhere safe to reside, the Crystal Empire will offer that place. No obligations to share any of your information or abilities."

Pausing, Nymphadora sighed. "If the Ministry is so far gone they'd turn out an up-and-coming auror for challenging evil within it"—her eyes flashed with burning embers for a second—"then I'll burn it down around them."

Watching Nymphadora walk back into the ballroom, Candle let out a breath. "Quite the firebrand, but I trust her. Come on, Jenny, let's get you somewhere safe."





It wasn't the first time Nymphadora had to rely on quick wit and cunning. The wizard who was training her was ruthless in his methods, and it led her to the plasticity of mind to make snap decisions—but right decision. She got through the party, got through a night spent sleeping in the random crystal building Jenny had been residing in, and even turned up for Jenny's shift in the morning.

Not wanting to perform magic was a problem since Jenny had enough changes that she would have been using minor spells without worry. She contented herself with the fact she wouldn't be around too long. Making her way to the building where the defacto leadership of the Ministry had set up, she asked around if she could get a moment to chat with Herbert Trencent.

Herbert raised his eyes from the impromptu desk he was working on to look at the woman who'd entered his office. "Officer Sparks. Please, sit down." He deployed his best grandfatherly smile for the young woman.

"Sir, if you don't mind, I'll stay standing." Hoping she was talking right for Jenny, Nymphadora let out a heavy sigh. "I'd like to take some time off, sir."

"It's really not a good time for this, Jen. What's got you so worked up? Was it the minder the ponies saddled you with last night?" In a world dominated, seemingly, by ponies, Herbert Trencent actually thought making equine puns was a good idea. 

For a second Nymphadora pondered incinerating Herbert on the spot. "Yes and no. It didn't really bother me except it reminded me that I'm not really needed. I'm a policewoman, sir, not much more than that. That, last night, was all politics."

"I can't change your mind?" Herbert pondered his own words. Changing her mind would be a simple spell, but he wasn't sure he wanted to get caught using one of the Three Unforgivable Curses. 

The phrasing wasn't lost on Nymphadora. Under the robes she'd copied from Jenny, she tensed slightly—hand not far from where she could reach her wand. "I don't want to be a political pawn."

"Where will you go?"

"South, I think. I'm a bit sick of the cold weather. You know I was saving up for a holiday in Australia when this went down." Stepping back from the desk, she tipped her head toward Herbert. "I guess I'll see you if I see you."

"Obl—"

"Stupify!" Nymphadora's wand was out, pointed, and her incantation off her lips before Herbert had even gotten halfway through his carefully planned memory charm. The anger she felt at what he'd tried to do had completely blown her disguise away and left her looking like herself. "Jenny was never that good with dueling magic, I fair kicked her ass many times."

Trying to recover from the well-cast stunner, Herbert fought against the combination of mental stunning and physical jolting. Combat magic wasn't his specialty. He liked a good, long time to plan out and cast a spell from as far away as possible.

"The question is, why are you trying to use a memory charm on her just for leaving the Ministry?" Walking back to the desk, Nymphadora started looking through the papers. "Reports on movement of families, teachers, kids, and Ministry personnel? Stupify." Having noticed Herbert moving again, she sent another stunner at him. "I guess now I know who watches the watchers. You've lost it."

Herbert Trencent could do nothing as Nymphadora Tonks picked up the movement reports from the ball, folded them neatly into her robes, and left the building a moment after her features shifted back to Jenny Sparks.

A second stunner on the heels of the first made the effect more pronounced. It was nearly five minutes before Herbert could start to move his mouth again. "H—" Straining, he focused on the act of working lips, tongue, and lungs together. "Help!"

At the raised voices behind her, Nymphadora ducked around a corner and picked a different form to disguise as. It was a shape as familiar to her as her own—almost. She'd spent the better part of a year with her mentor. Learning the ways of an auror was quite the close moment.

Hobbling out of the alley, the perfect likeness of Alastor "Mad" Moody made his way up the street toward the school-castle. Ensuring even the fake eye swiveled around wildly, Nymphadora didn't worry in the slightest at the slow pace.

It was a chance to relax after the earlier excitement. When reaching the front doors of the castle, Nymphadora nodded to the two guards on duty there as she walked inside. The moment she was past the door, she let her Alastor disguise fade and breathed a sigh of relief. "Uh, hello? I haven't exactly been around here much, but I really need to speak to—uh—Candle something? Crystal pony about yay high."

"Candle Light? I know of her." Stepping out of a hallway that led deeper into the castle, Shining Armor advanced on Nymphadora. "She mentioned we might have a visitor." He gestured to a doorway with a hoof and waited for Nymphadora to head in that direction.

"Look, I'm not here to ask for sanctuary or anything, I just want to let her know that Jenny was right." Turning on her heel, and judging the emperor of the Crystal Empire was a good enough person to give her information to, she started walking back to the main gates. 

Halfway down the steps, she only realized she'd forgotten something when a voice yelled, "There she is!" with a thick, Londoner accent.

The first thing Nymphadora did was throw up a shield, and it cost her a twinge in her lower back. "If you bastards made me grow a tail, I'll be pissed." She pointed her wand toward one of the Ministry wizards, only to hear the thumping of hooves pass her a fraction of a second after two bright beams of pure magical force shot at her target—one after the other. 

"Halt! In the name of the law!" Searing Spear prepared another blast with his horn, only to see a pink circle form around his target. He swapped to the second of the combatants. "Yield!" he shouted as his fellow Guard galloped right up to the witch and shoved a spear in their face—piercing the weak shield they'd tried to use to stop it. "You're under arrest in the name of Emperor Shining Armor!"

Looking back at the sound of a third pony leaving the main doors, Nymphadora saw the emperor himself march toward the two wizards with his horn ablaze. She'd felt the power some wizards chose to cloak themselves in to show off, and none of them came anywhere close to the raw energy he was using to power just a shield. "Th-Thanks."

"You're welcome. I will keep order in my city." Shining paused a moment and looked at Nymphadora. "Don't leave the city, please." He wasn't sure why, but he took her nod at face value and let her go. "Now, why were two wizards chasing one young woman, only to ambush her with magic without so much as an identifying shout?"

Turning away from the apprehension of the two wizards from the ministry, Nymphadora walked right into someone. Lifting her head and actually looking at the man she'd bumped into, Nymphadora looked right into Remus' eyes. "S-Sorry."

"Here, are you alright? Hold up, Sirius." Remus turned his attention from Nymphadora to his friend and then back again. "What just happened?"

Sirius, who had been paying more attention after the shout, didn't realize what he was doing until he had moved around and put himself between Nymphadora and the two wizards (who were now trying to explain themselves out of being arrested). The main reason for his actions, he knew, was he could practically smell the Ministry on the two men.

"I-I was helping a friend trying to get out of the Ministry. Uh, I don't suppose you'd know where Auror Moody is?" It was the only name that Nymphadora felt willing to trust at this point. She knew her mentor had come over to Equestria, but she hadn't been able to locate him yet.

"Funny you should ask after him, we're off to see ol' Mad-Eye ourselves." Sirius watched on as the ponies took the wizards' wands away from them and marched them off in the direction of the Ministry compound within the city. "What did the Ministry want with you, anyway?"

Sighing, Nymphadora shook her head. "I'll leave it until we're with Alastor. I don't want to have to spill all this twice, and I certainly don't want the wrong people to hear about it. I'm Tonks, by the way."

"Tonks? Huh. Well, I'm Remus and this is Sirius."

"Just so you know, it's not because you know Mad-Eye that we're trusting you." Sirius turned around and, despite his size, kept up easily with Remus and Nymphadora. "It's mostly because I find myself liking anyone who pisses off the Ministry."

"Be nice, Sirius. There was a lot of really nasty types in Azkaban too." Remus had no clue why he was defending the Ministry, but here he was playing Devil's Advocate. "So, Tonks, what do you do with yourself?"

Nymphadora's hair flickered from her soft brown to a startling shade of pink before she got her emotions under control again. "You, uh… Can we wait until we're with Alastor?"

Remus didn't miss the hair color change. In fact, it jogged his memory. There weren't any creatures that did that kind of quick change without meaning to, but in researching his lycanthropy he'd found a book that talked of a trait in very few wizards and witches that could. "Fair enough."

Sirius looked up at his friend. "But Remus, she—"

"Give it a rest, Sirius. I trust Moody about almost as much as I trust you, we get her there and let the old man figure out what to do." Remus gave Sirius a firm look and continued in silence on the short walk to the building Alastor Moody had been given.

With a quick knock on the front door, Remus opened it and gestured Nymphadora to go inside. The building should have been bright and fanciful—there should have been light streaming through the crystalline walls and diffusing, ensuring no corner was unlit—instead it was dim within. The walls looked like stone and there were shutters where, from the outside, clear windows should have been. A grand illusion had been worked to remind everyone within the building of home without alerting those outside.

In the middle of the living room sat Alastor Moody and Albus Dumbledore, each with a cup of fine china filled with tea. A small tea set sat to the side while a chess board was set up between them. When Alastor saw who accompanied Remus and Sirius, the left side of his face twitched slightly into a smile—for nearly a tenth of a second. "So, the rumors are true. Ya made it, girl?"

Letting out her breath, Nymphadora practically slumped where she stood. "Okay, first, do you trust these two?" Blunt as a hammer, though with the morning she'd had, she didn't actually care.

"These two louts?" Alastor chuckled and looked across the table at Dumbledore. "Before about six weeks ago, I would have as happily tossed that one particularly"—he nodded at Sirius—"in the deepest hole I could find and throw away the key, but now? I'd trust the lad at my back—and he vouches for Mr. Lupin."

Reaching inside her robes, Nymphadora pulled out all the surveillance papers she'd stolen. "They've been keeping watch on everyone, but not just everyone outside the Ministry, even all the people working at the Ministry have been on watch. This is insane.

"And then, when helping to reassure a friend that nothing weird was going on, I quit on her behalf. Can you guess what Trencent tried to do?"

"At a guess," Albus said, "he would have tried to obliviate you, well your friend, so you don't remember anything. Now he'll want to do it even more—and us too, no doubt." The thought of it brought a chuckle to Albus. "How'd he take being told no?"

"No clue. I stunned 'im." Stretching to each side, Nymphadora noticed Remus looking at her. She smirked a little. "Well, a few times. Turns out the old bugger didn't know when to play possum. Shite at combat magic, too."

Sirius shook his head and climbed up on the nearby sofa as if he owned it. "I can tell you how they took it after that. It was like she kicked a hornets' nest. There were Ministry wizards and witches everywhere, and then two of 'em found her up at the castle."

"And that's when the guards did their thing." Nymphadora slumped down on a lounge chair, then jumped as she sat down on the growing new appendage her spellcasting had caused. "And how I got a tail out of it."

"Ha! You get used to 'em." Sirius gave his a flick to show off. "You should have seen them. Ministry lads had wands out and were blasting, and then those unicorns just blasted back about a hundred times stronger and then the big lad, prince I think, or is he emperor for real now? Anyway, he just wrapped one up in a shield spell—but turned inwards! I'm not exactly a fan of the fuzz, not after years in Azkaban, but watching them work reminded me how different magic can be here."

Nymphadora jerked around to look at Sirius—having been spending too much time checking out Remus. "You were in Azkaban? What did you do?"

Smirking with a pony snout had taken work to practice, but Sirius had been spending a bit of time studying facial gestures of ponies. "For getting too good and defeating dark wizards."

Looking at Alastor, Nymphadora only got a nod from him. "Huh," was all she could think to say.

"They've been observing everyone. They must have some scrying equipment. I can't believe this." Albus was idly flicking through the papers. "Excuse me a moment, this could use some work here." 

Reaching to his waist, Albus drew his wand. The old piece of wood looked positively ancient, but aiming it at the core of the illusion spell that wrapped the inside of the house, he focused his will on a quick but effective ward against spying.

The Elder Wand practically jumped to unleash the magic of the wizard using it. So fine tuned was it that the spell didn't require any other patterns to construct than its own flick and the pattern Albus built in his head.

Halfway across the city, a young wizard operating a scrying mirror watched in horror as the priceless artifact (given they had no means to make more) cracked and shattered.

Smirking as he felt the snap of the active scrying spell, Albus slipped the Elder Wand back into his robe with his hoof—displaying a newfound adeptness with the strangely versatile limb. "They know where we are and what we have. I felt their scrying fail just now. Perhaps, Alastor, we should ask for another house?"

"There's a safer house to stash all three of them in." Looking between the three, Alastor swiveled his magic eye around to Albus. "You're not the headmaster there any longer, but do you think you could talk to Minerva, or should I go?"

Missing the conversation, not that he'd have to worry about it anyway given he was already a teacher at the school, Remus couldn't stop looking at Nymphadora. Her hair kept changing its color moment to moment, sometimes even growing longer and shrinking back.

There was something wild about Remus, or so Nymphadora could feel. She returned his looks, and, when she bit her lower lip, suddenly realized the room had gone silent. Looking up at Albus and Alastor, she let go of her lip. "Uh, what?"





Minerva McGonagall reflected upon the fact that a duchess had to do all the same things everyone else did, but also had to put up with them calling her duchess. She eyed Sirius Black and Nymphadora Tonks. "I'm not running a charity house here. I heard about Miss Tonks' little bout of craziness." She turned her gaze to Sirius. "And don't think I've forgotten you, Mr. Black. My goodness, the only reason I took in Mr. Lupin was his impeccable qualifications—and Albus personally vouching for him."

"Please, Minerva. The one place they not only can't scry but never have is here—Hogwarts." Albus knew his normal, grandfatherly projection wouldn't work. He was an old man and a friend of Minerva's, and that was the only angle he dared use.

"I'll agree for three reasons." Keeping her sigh to a mental one, Minerva drew her quill, charged it with ink, and started writing on the page before her. "Firstly, Albus, because you asked—without using that damned title. The second is that I have already spoken with the witch that Miss Tonks aided in fleeing the Ministry, and she came with a letter from an empress asking me to aid her, too."

"Isn't the school going to be somewhat full with faculty then?" Albus asked.

"Yes, it will be. The castle, however, seems to find room for everyone. The third reason I will go along with this insanity is that I do not believe in what the Ministry is accomplishing is right. They have done nothing but impede all our efforts to integrate into society here. The Ministry of Magic was meant to aid witches and wizards—but this is nothing but a power grab." When she recharged her pen with ink, Minerva finally looked up at the two adults sitting in seats like they were students who'd been caught doing something they shouldn't.

Minerva could remember both from their days at Hogwarts. She had broken rules for each of them in the past, seeing an amazingly gifted witch in Nymphadora—a witch she was partly jealous of, maybe, but one she wanted to see spread her wings.

In Sirius Minerva could only remember the young man she'd accidentally let borrow all her notes on how to become an animagus. She knew he'd succeeded, knew it in her bones just by looking at him, and to her that almost made him kin.

"First, however, I want each of you to answer me a question." Both jumped a little in their seat at her words, which reassured Minerva that they would at least take her seriously. "Sirius, why did you become an animagus?"

Sirius Black's heart almost stopped. He wanted to ask how she knew, why she'd reveal it now, and what she would take to not reveal the answer—but that would be useless. She was a hard woman, he knew, and once she set her eyes on a target, she always took her shot. "A friend. A friend with lycanthropy. I wanted to make him feel part of something rather than a lone wolf. It worked."

Minerva had suspected, but hearing Sirius say it cemented the fact that even at such a young age, he'd been loyal to a friend. Loyalty, in her mind, counted for a lot. "And Miss Tonks, what do you see in Remus Lupin?"

The question was so far out of left field that Nymphadora actually jerked in her seat again. "He—I mean we only just met. What do you mean?" She gripped down on her emotions with every ounce of her self-control.

"That's enough. I have my answer." Minerva wasn't sure what was better, knowing that the two had somehow found a connection or seeing Nymphadora's panic at the thought she was being so obvious. "Let me find you two rooms and I'll expect you to think about what you could teach and what you will be able to teach. I know each of your specialties, and I think they could be worked into the classes we normally teach quite effectively."

Taking a deep breath, Sirius shook his head. "I could aid in teaching any course, but I think I'd like to teach students about being and becoming an animagus."

It was a topic after Minerva's own heart. She might have studied and become an animagus to further explore transfiguration magic, but she had come to enjoy relaxing in a sunbeam, chasing imagined shadows, and even just sleeping far more than she'd ever expected. "Write up a proposal and have it on my desk tomorrow. Albus, will you be teaching with us in the new school year?"

That, Albus Dumbledore knew, was the crux of the matter. The school had a fine leader, experienced and knowledgeable teachers, and the prospect of new school year excited him, but he'd practically engineered himself out of a position in it. "Empress Cadance explained to me in private why she didn't grant me a title. She needs help in keeping the Ministry under control, but she needs that help from someone that is off their radar—"

"Albus, you will never be off their radar," Minerva said.

Albus couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Indeed, and I told her so, but I believe that when I go to Herbert Trencent and offer my assistance to him in keeping order, he'll jump at the opportunity."

"Aren't you a little old for these games?"

Sirius turned to look at Nymphadora and raised a brow to indicate curiosity. When she shrugged her shoulders a little, he had his answer—she had no clue about all this either.

"Maybe. Or maybe I've realized that I don't have the luxury of spending most of my days doing things I enjoy. Do take care of Hogwarts for me, Minerva." 

"I will, but remember that there is always a place for you here, Albus."
> The Colt who Lived
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It hurt. 

Harry Potter had to fight the mental confusion that came with having lost another place that had felt like home, even if he hated the people who'd lived there. He had even been on his way to tell them he was leaving forever—but that opportunity had been snatched away.

Beside him Addera didn't know what to do. Harry was hurting and, as best she could tell, biting everyone around him to death wouldn't solve the problem. She was out of ideas.

"Is there something the matter?" Twilight's voice had so much concern in it that Harry's own self-pity-party halted because he wanted to make her feel better. It also snuffed out any rising need to become a very angry nirik.

"This." Harry gestured at the mass of humans milling about. "I just—It's nice to know my friends are safe with their families, but it's a reminder that—that I don't have anywhere to go now. It's Hogwarts or—"

Twilight bit her lower lip while he spoke, but couldn't stop from cutting in. "I mean, I have a big library. You're planning to come back when they start teaching again, right?" 

"Well, yeah. I want to finish learning how to be a wizard."

"There's a place for you in Ponyville, but first we make sure your teachers know you're leaving, got it?" Deploying a wry smile, Twilight was trying to hide the panic and confusion she possessed—she had no idea why she'd just offered to take care of him. With Spike living with her, her life was plenty full of moments where she'd wondered how things would be different if she wasn't taking care of a baby dragon.

"Wait, you mean I could live in your library?" It was hard for Harry to fight against the excitement that was building. He wanted it to be true so much, but at the same his doubts clawed at the idea. Was she telling the truth? What was the downside? Would he get lost without his friends? For Harry, at least, the last one didn't really seem true. He'd made friends in Ponyville, anyway.

The look of surprise and excitement cemented in Twilight's mind that this was definitely the right thing to do. She nodded and made a sound of assent. "Come on, let's go talk to that pegasus teacher who came for you last time."

Addera was almost as excited about it as Harry. She took extra stock of the unicorn and judged her a good creature. Her motives seemed pure enough, so she decided to just follow and see where this would take them. Where it took them was the castle.

Excited enough to bounce with each step, Harry led the way into the castle and then up to the Hogwarts section. Knowing that if she was anywhere, Madam Hooch would either be in the teacher lounge or outside by the quidditch pitch.

"This castle is amazing," Twilight said as she looked around at the moving staircases. She stayed close to Harry, not knowing the pattern of their movement.

"It's lunacy is what it is. Took me almost a year to get the hang of all these. Here's our stop." Harry jumped off the stairs as they swung past the hallway that led to the teachers' lounge. 

Laughing as she jumped off right behind Harry, Twilight looked back as the stairwell moved away and another was zooming toward them. "Isn't it dangerous?"

"Nah. Most of us know how to cast a spell for soft landings. Besides, it's better than the alternative." Still with a bounce in his step, Harry pranced toward the teachers' lounge door.

"What's the alternative?"

"A boring castle without any magic in it." Straightening up at the door to the teachers' lounge, Harry raised his hoof and knocked on it three times—then a fourth for good measure.

Jumping to his feet and apologizing to Sirius, Remus walked to the door and opened it. It was a surprise indeed to see what he thought was two unicorns. He recognized the smaller one as his friend's godson. "Harry Potter?" He tried not to let his tension at an impending full moon get to him.

"Uh." Harry couldn't for the life of him remember Remus' name. "Hi. Is Madam Hooch here?"

Standing up, Rolanda set her charged quill down on the blotter beside her work and walked over to the doorway. When she saw Harry, she felt herself smiling despite the long hours she'd spent that day already. "Harry! I would have thought you'd be with your friends."

"They're—Well, they're kinda busy. Besides, we have a better idea that me hanging around the castle for the next few months. Right, Twilight?" Tilting his head up, Harry felt a thrill to have her with him. When everyone else had kinda forgotten about him, Twilight had asked him what he wanted to do. That's when an odd sensation caught his attention and he turned to look at Addera. "Oh! Twilight?"

The sudden shout surprised Twilight. "What is it?" 

"There will be room for Addera too?"

This made Addera gasp a hiss in surprise. As a basilisk, she generally only had room for the more hot emotions, but pleasant surprise was somewhat new to her. She turned her attention to Twilight.

"Of course there will be. And for your owl, though I'll have to ask Fluttershy what they might need to eat." Twilight looked at Addera and gave her best smile. "I hadn't forgotten you, I promise."

"It is much appreciated, Twilight Sparkle." Addera flicked her tongue out to taste the air—which is when she tasted Remus Lupin and froze. There were not many things that were genuinely dangerous to a basilisk, but a werewolf was one such. Narrowing her attention on Remus, she plotted how would be the easiest way to get Harry and Twilight away from him.

"Am I to take it you're here to ask me if you can summer at Miss Twilight Sparkle's home?" Rolanda asked. "Because I am the wrong person to be asking. You need to see Headmistress McGonagall."

Twilight started to see a bit-passing game starting and resisted the urge to sigh. "I'm sure Harry knows where that is, right Harry?"

"Sure do. Come on."

Addera took up the rear and kept her glasses' focus on watching the door close behind them. Only when it was did she finally relax and slither quickly to catch up with Harry. "I do not like that man, Harry Potter."

"Huh? Remus? He's one of my godfather's friends. What's up with him?" Harry led the way to Minerva's little office. Knocking on the door, he heard her welcome them inside.

Addera liked Minerva. She saw the woman as fair and, if nothing else, tolerant of an ancient terror within her school. She slithered past Harry and Twilight and up to Minerva's desk. "Did you know Remus is a werewolf?"

Raising an eyebrow, Minerva now had even more questions added to her list for the day. "This isn't to leave the room, but yes, I do. He is receiving treatment for it, so you needn't worry. He is not a threat."

"My mother told me about their ilk. They are not to be underestimated." Addera wanted to take off her glasses and mesmerize Minerva and tell her to do something more—but she'd made a promise.

"He's really a werewolf? Oh my goodness, I've never seen one of those before! I wonder if he'd like to answer some questions?" Twilight actually felt her hooves itch in excitement.

It had been a long day. Between all the people rushing through the portal and her trying to get Albus' stray puppy settled, Minerva was not all that ready for interruptions. "Please refrain from bothering him. We're trying to get him settled and medicated such that his condition will not be a problem. What are you here for today of all days?" 

"Well, I know you didn't really want me staying here over the summer, and with all my friends busy getting themselves settled…" Harry, being thoroughly British, had trouble trying to say he'd asked Twilight if he could stay with her.

Twilight felt it was time to step in and state her plan. "I offered my home if he wishes to not spend all his time around the Crystal Empire. Addera too."

It was an interesting offer, and one Minerva wasn't planning to argue too much with. She knew Twilight Sparkle as literally one of Equestria's heroes, and now a Crystal Empire hero too. And that was not taking into account she was the sister of Shining Armor. "Your home is appropriately sized?"

"Twilight lives in a giant tree!" Harry said. "It's also the town library!"

Chuckling nervously, Twilight nodded her head. "It is both those things. The Golden Oaks Library has an attached living area with three bedrooms." Put like that, she realized, it sounded far more ready for a pair of extra residents.

"That seems amenable." And, Minerva mentally added, far superior to anywhere else the poor boy has lived. "Please have him back here at the start of Sep— In three months time?"

Twilight nodded. "Will he need any school equipment?"

It was such a normal question that Minerva was immensely thankful that it had been asked. It implied an adult who was thinking and who knew what school meant. "Normally, yes. I'll try to have a booklist sent out the moment I know what we will be teaching. I presume this Golden Oaks Library is in—Ponyville?" The name had been dredged up from her memory and conversation with Rolanda.

"Sure is! If you mail anything to the Golden Oaks Library of Ponyville, I'll surely get it." Twilight thought it best left unsaid that she might have to do a little hunting to get said mail, given the town's mailmare.

"That won't be required. Though our owlery was damaged, most of our owls have returned." Minerva tried to avoid looking at Harry. She understood that he had started the owlery fire, but it had been dire circumstances. "I'll send an owl when we have everything finalized."

"An—" Twilight shook her head and looked at Harry, then back at Minerva. "You use owls to carry messages?"

"We do indeed. Owls are brilliant creatures, and with a little teaching can learn to deliver messages far faster than any common mail carrier." A sudden worry hit Minerva that had everything to do with this new world and the amount of magic they used. Humans and their little cars and bikes were one thing, but she had no idea how far the ponies used magic.

"So long as it makes it, that's all that matters." For a moment Twilight was about to stand up and leave, but she wanted to know one more thing. "Have you considered teaching ponies as well?"

The question hit Minerva like a hammer. Their student body had shrunk tremendously thanks to not every witch or wizard having come across, but Minerva hadn't really fully delved the idea of opening the doors to everyone. "It's something to think about. We still have most of our faculty intact, but have lost a significant portion of our student body."

"You started with me. Why not teach ponies?" Addera examined Minerva through the magic of her glasses. "You have plenty of wands with which to teach them."

"That's the problem, Addera. Each pony wishing to learn magic would either need to be a unicorn or be issued a wand. We have"—Minerva took a deep breath and slowly let it go—"a good amount of wands, but I am not aware of any wandmakers who came over."

"I mean, unless Charlie came over—Ron's big brother. He made Ron's current wand, right?" Harry looked up at the shocked face of Minerva. "What?"

"You're right. It wasn't a very good wand, but he definitely has the talent for it." Reaching to her face with a hoof, Minerva adjusted her glasses. "I believe it would be worth sending some owls out to attempt to find him. This may solve several problems at once. Thank you, all of you, and I expect to see both of you two back here in several months." She fixed her eyes on Addera and Harry, but her smile belayed any seriousness.

"Yes, headmaster," Harry Potter said.





The train ride, for Harry, felt far more relaxed and cathartic than the one to find the kirin. It almost seemed to take its time rumbling along the tracks—like the Hogwarts Express.

'Do you think there will be good hunting ahead?' Hedwig rotated her head from looking at the landscape speed by to looking across at Harry. It hadn't been easy to adjust to, but seeing a huge snake coiled around Harry no longer panicked her—she trusted the snake.

The presence in his head made Harry relax a little more into Addera's coils. 'I'm sure you'll be able to get food, Hedwig. Twilight's friend can make owl food, Twilight said, that is just the same as meat.' 

Sneezing at the thought of eating non-meat food, Hedwig clacked her beak. 'If there's plant-things in it, I'll peck you.'

The shift in the train—from cruising to slowing down—jerked on everyone aboard. Harry spun his head around to look back out the window and saw Ponyville for a second time. The houses all looked welcoming, but for a brief instant he could see above them and spotted the Golden Oaks Library.

Meeting Sirius had been the high point of recent events for Harry, but his godfather had his own problems to take care of. Looking at Ponyville, he couldn't help but think that it was more of a home than he'd ever had before. "Thank you, uh, Twilight."

"Is something the matter?" Twilight asked. 

For a moment Harry tried to find the right words. He tried to work out a way to describe how he felt—and in the end turned to something he knew well. "I feel like a quaffle. My parents died, so they handed me to the Dursleys, now I can't get back there so—well, I'm not being handed to you. You said you'd take care of me, which is why I said thanks, but I feel like at any moment I'll have to find another place."

It was such a simple solution. A few months a year until he was deemed adult wasn't too much pressure on her, after all. "Then I will promise you will have a place to stay until you wish to move out." It was probably more than she'd meant to promise, but it felt right to Twilight.

"You really mean that?" Harry asked.

"Sure do!" In her head Twilight was only mildly panicking at having taken on such a huge responsibility. Mildly, of course, by Twilight standards.

"Who are you, Twilight Sparkle?" Addera asked. "Sister of a prince, hero of Equestria—and librarian."

The train stopped and Twilight managed to get to her hooves and used her magic to heft not just her own things, but Harry's too. "Are you hungry?"

Addera pondered cursing. The evasion had been awkward, but under the circumstances Addera wasn't prepared to push—she had several months to find out. If there was one thing she'd learned after so many years confined to the tunnels under Hogwarts, it was patience.

With Hedwig on his back, Harry jumped out of Addera's coils and landed on the floor easily. One thing he'd learned about being a kirin was their agility. Jumping twice his height into the air and landing on a lower surface? Piece of cake for a kirin. 

When he stepped off the train, he was excited to see who was waiting for him. "Hi, Spike!"

A little surprised to see Harry, Addera, and Hedwig, Spike glanced at Twilight before he marched up and started grabbing bags. "Hiya, Harry, Addera. What's goin' on?"

"Harry and Addera will be living with us." No matter how many times she said it, Twilight felt shocked that it was true. "They'll be going back to Hogwarts in a few months, but he needed somewhere stable to live."

Unable to hold back a giggle, Harry tried to cover his mouth with a hoof but was too late. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for being happy, Harry." Twilight waved to the train's conductor and started walking down the steps of the platform.

Biting back on the joke, Harry followed along and to his new home.





The first day proved strange for Harry. It was, apparently, a Sunday. He'd gotten up, slipped out to the kitchen area and started cleaning. It was just like when he was back at the Dursleys', but the difference was it was his own doing—a habit.

Unable to believe his eyes when he entered the kitchen, Spike stared at all the polished and clean surfaces. "Hey, uh, you don't have to clean up like that. I normally take care of cleaning and cooking."

"It might sound a bit crazy, but I kinda liked the cleaning part of living with the Dursleys. Well, as long as they didn't keep trying to punish me for things I didn't do. It was normally Dudley's fault. Sometimes he would just grab a bottle of milk from the fridge, drink some of it, and then drop it on the floor. Aunt Petunia would blame me for it." It surprised Harry how little anger bringing that up caused him. 

"Well, just don't take over cooking too or I'll have to find somewhere else to live." Spike pulled his stool around and in front of the stove. "How do you like your pancakes?"

"Uh, do you have marmalade?"

Narrowing his eyes, Spike shook his head. "I don't even know what that is."

"Oh." Finishing up his Locomotion charm, Harry set the broom aside. "What do you normally have on yours again?"

"You probably don't want rubies. Maybe just go with a little syrup and a small dollop of ice cream." Pulling out bowls and ingredients, Spike started to make the pancake batter.

Shrugging a little, Harry looked around the room. "Where's the shower? I should probably clean up before breakfast."

Spike pointed to a door while he worked. "Down the hall there. Don't be too long."

A shower later—though he lacked anything but soap to clean himself—and Harry was partially dry and walking back to the kitchen. Addera was already curled up on a chair at the table opposite Twilight. The smell of cooking pancakes almost completely blew his mind.

"There he is. We were just discussing extra classes for you." Twilight tried to hide her grin at seeing dismay on Harry's face. "It would only be two days a week over the holidays. I was out earlier to invite Cheerilee to drop by to discuss it."

"This will be good for us both, Harry Potter. I need to learn these things too." It was hard to admit, but Addera had learned that bitter pills sometimes needed to be swallowed. She was also aware that if they both attended school, she could better look out for him.

"I guess. What will they teach in this school?" Walking around to an empty seat, Harry bounced with all four legs and landed on the seat easily. Even with the prospect of school on school holidays, this still felt like more of a home than the Dursleys' in just one day.

"That's what we have Cheerilee coming over for. At the very least you will need to learn Equestrian history and geography. I don't know exactly what kind of unicorn magic you could do, but that's something you and me can figure out together." It was just what she and Addera had already talked about, but Twilight was already excited to help two new (kinda) students start their journey in Equestrian schooling. "We can probably skip anything pertaining to actually getting your cutie mark, but I think a good grounding in magic would be good, as well as some personal time to work on using your fire—uh—form."

Harry's school holidays, he realized, were not actually going to be holidays from school. He consoled himself with the thought that learning lots of things was definitely what wizards did.

The conversation would have continued except Spike started ferrying plates stacked with pancakes on them to the table. Each plate had eight round and thick pancakes, and all of them were topped with a thick, dark syrup and a dollop of ice cream surrounded in berries. Spike's had an extra dusting of red gemstones.

Talking ceased, as each dug into their breakfast. Harry couldn't help but compare the delicious and heavy breakfast to those he'd had at Hogwarts, though there was something better about the food Spike made that caused the flavors to seem more vibrant and exciting.

Addera, likewise, was impressed with the flavors. She also realized right away that there was something extra in her pancakes—meat. It wasn't pig or cow or even sheep. Addera could taste, very faintly, fish. She looked at Spike, though with her glasses on he couldn't see her doing it, and she did her best to smile at him. "Thank you."

"Huh?" Twilight looked between Spike and Addera.

"I put that piece of fish you'd caught while fishing with Applejack into Addera's pancakes. She's a snake pony, Twilight. She needs protein." It was simple and logical for Spike. "You should talk to Fluttershy, she can make snake food that doesn't even need fish."

"Oh, right. We need to get her to help with some owl food for Hedwig too," Harry said.

The rest of breakfast went by in silence until there was the sound of knocking downstairs. Twilight jumped to her hooves and rushed downstairs. When she opened the door she was surprised to see Cheerilee and Fluttershy waiting there—both looking excited. "Uh," Twilight began, "I wasn't expecting you, Fluttershy."

"I was talking to Stamped—he's the pony who works as conductor for the train—and he said you came back yesterday with a young kirin, a snake pony, and an owl." Fluttershy was trying to look past Twilight to see if she could spot the owl. "A-And I thought I should come over and talk to them since the owl is from another world and—and they might need special meals." When she couldn't see the owl in question, Fluttershy started walking forward—having forgotten about Twilight.

"Uh…" Cheerilee was a little bemused by Fluttershy's pushiness, but she could remember her having done much the same thing when Cheerilee had told her a large rat had wandered into the schoolhouse and needed to be removed. Giving Twilight a knowing look, she asked, "Would you like me to come back later?"

"I think Fluttershy will be distracted enough with Hedwig that we'll be able to talk. Come on in." With room already made by Fluttershy—who was now looking under books trying to find Hedwig—Twilight led Cheerilee to the stairs.

"It's exciting to have two new students coming in, but why are they joining mid-year?" Cheerilee asked as they both walked up the stairs.

Noticing the pair heading upstairs, Fluttershy realized her target was probable up there too. Letting loose an excited squee, she spread her wings and performed a stunt worthy of Rainbow Dash as she turned side on and flew up the stairs with her wing between Twilight and Cheerilee. Coming out at the top, she saw Hedwig sitting on the back of Harry's chair. "Oh my goodness! Aren't you just the most pretty owl I've ever seen?"

Looking at Fluttershy with a little confusion, Hedwig let out a tiny peep sound.

"You're hungry? I'll find you something to suit your diet right away." Fluttershy flipped open her saddlebag and rummaged around in it. With her snout buried in the bag, her next words were more muffled, "Was there anything specifically you wanted?"

'She can understand me.' The revelation excited Hedwig, who let out a longer whistling noise—both a thank you and—she hoped—an answer.

"Oh, well you're welcome Miss Hedwig. I don't have any of those, but I do have fish. Do you like fish?" Fluttershy waited for more whistling from Hedwig before continuing. "Well, that's nice, but I don't like animals eating my other little friends. So I can make you a fish meal once a week, but have you considered these cookies?"

Harry watched as Fluttershy offered Hedwig a cookie, and after a moment of inspecting it, she tried a piece.

'It tastes like meat!'

"What's, uh, in those?" Harry asked.

Smiling now Hedwig was showing signs of enjoyment, Fluttershy fluffed her wings a little. "They are made like most cookies, but I make sure to only use ingredients that would agree with a predator's digestion. There's a secret ingredient…" It was the only thing that had Fluttershy a little on-edge about the cookies. "It's a little of Harry's blood. He donates it to help give the cookies the meat-flavor most carnivores need. He's such a big dear."

Confusion reigned in Harry's mind. He watched Hedwig devour the cookie completely. "He's a big deer? You take blood from a deer to make these?"

Fluttershy stared at Harry and tried to make sense of his words. Her mind backtracked and she realized where things had gone wrong. "Oh no, I wasn't saying he was a deer, just that he was a—Harry's a bear and a dear friend of mine."

"Oh." Harry struggled to get his head into gear given all the happy owl almost-thoughts rattling around in his head. "Oh! I think I have it. It's still nice of him."

A warm tingle ran all over Fluttershy at hearing how friendly Harry was. "It is. The cookies won't be enough on their own, though. She'll still need a fish or two a week." 

Fluttershy still disliked having to feed such predators any meat, but of all the creatures she knew of, fish had so little intelligence they wouldn't even talk to her. She had tried, of course, spending weeks with some larger ones—but all they could ever think about was eating and growing.

"If you'd like," Fluttershy said, "I could have Harry wait next time he goes fishing and take you along? I can get you a fishing rod from Applejack."

His thoughts rushing around, Harry tried to remember where he'd heard that name before. Then it hit him—the cowboy pony. "She fishes too?"

"Some ponies eat fish. Her whole family mostly eats apples, but they sometimes eat them. My parents had me try some once, but I don't like it. Even if fish aren't as smart as spiders, I don't want to eat them."

Having spent her time listening so far, Addera finally decided it was time to address Fluttershy. "Could I eat those too?"

"Harry?" Cheerilee looked at Harry Potter and nodded to the stairs leading downstairs. "Could we have a talk about what I can help you learn?"

Harry had been dreading this. What more did a wizard need to learn, after all, than magic and when to use more magic? He climbed down from his seat—leaving Addera and Hedwig to fawn on Fluttershy—and followed Cheerilee downstairs.

The library itself was very wizardy to Harry's thinking. There were books stuffed into nooks and crannies everywhere, but despite the haphazard shape of each place, the books were sitting on dusted shelves.

"Well, Harry, what would you like to learn?" It wasn't her first time dealing with a clever foal who had non-standard learning requirements, which is why Cheerilee liked to put the onus on the foal.

"M-Magic." It was the first and most obvious thing Harry could think of.

"You will have Twilight for that—as well as your other school." Cheerilee sketched a circle in the air with her hoof. "How about I try a different question? What do you think you should learn?"

It was an annoying question because Harry knew the answers. Hogwarts was amazing, and he loved his time learning magic there, but he'd been at a public school before then—he knew what he was missing. "Maths, English, geography…" Sigh wasn't an answer, but it came out of his mouth nonetheless.

"They teach those at your other school, surely?"

"Not exactly. They got us to learn to use a quill, ink, and blotter, but it wasn't exactly English. We didn't have any book reports or anything. As for maths, well, there was a class on numbers relating to magic. Geography wasn't taught at all. Oh, we had some history, but it was only wizarding world history." Harry knew where this was going. "I was at a public school two years ago. I hope I'm not far behind."

Cheerilee reached out and put a hoof on Harry's slumped shoulder. Foals feeling left behind was something she could deal with. "We'll just need to find out. Class tomorrow will be some tests. Answer whatever you can and put a line through the things you can't. And Harry, there will be things you can't answer on the sheet, so don't feel that you have failed when you find your limit."

It was both reassuring and a little scary. Harry managed to slow his emotions from spiraling with the promise of burning something soon. "D-Did Twilight tell you about my, uh, anger?"

"She did, and she went one better." Pulling a sheaf of paper from her saddlebags, Cheerilee held it out to Harry. "Twilight is working on a manuscript for a book about kirin. That copy is a very rough draft."

"Uh." Holding out his hoof, Harry carefully took the papers by sitting back and sandwiching them between both forelegs. "I don't exactly have the hoof or horn things worked out yet."

It was hard not to want to have serious words with Twilight, but Cheerilee knew the mare and knew that this sort of thing was why Twilight had fetched her. "If you'd like your first lesson now, why don't we at least get you able to hold things with your hoof?" 





Still not understanding how it worked, Harry nonetheless used his hooves now to move things around. He'd spent the morning cleaning again, had eaten the breakfast Spike had cooked them, and was already walking out the door—he even closed it with his hoof.

Before Harry had even turned around to face them, Scootaloo felt her excitement boil up. "Hiya!"

"Hi!" Sweetie Belle almost bounced in place at having their new friend back.

"Howdy. Miss Cheerilee asked us if we'd help you find the school today." Apple Bloom delivered her best smile. "And we promised her we wouldn't dunk water on you this time."

Harry watched Scootaloo and Apple Bloom glare at Sweetie Belle for a moment. "It's okay, really. So, uh, you want to lead on?" The walk to school wasn't long, but it did come with a wall of questions from his new friends. 

When he stepped into the classroom that the three fillies herded him toward, Harry realized they were probably the last to arrive.

"If you fillies could take your seats, I'd like to introduce our newest student to the class." Teaching, Cheerilee would always say, energized her. Imparting knowledge onto young minds—even the more problematic ones—made her entire being buzz with excitement. "Everypony, this is Harry Potter. Would you like to tell us something about yourself, Harry?"

That was his cue to spend the rest of the day explaining everything that'd happened to him since he got his letter, thus avoiding the test Cheerilee was going to impart upon him. The problem was, Harry didn't feel like doing that. "Hello everyone. My name's Harry Potter. I like flying."

There was a few snorts from around the foals, but Harry realized Scootaloo was staring at him with her wings fluffed out in surprise. "That is, I like flying on my broom. I could bring it tomorrow and show you?" He looked up at Cheerilee and got a nod.

"Please take a seat, Harry." Before she started her class, Cheerilee took the first test over to Harry and set it before him. "Do your best. Now, class, I want to start on——"

Looking down at the paper, Harry almost cursed. Being British, he knew a lot of great curse words he suspected would make Cheerilee very upset with him. The first question was easy—probably the easiest in anyone's life.



2 + 2 = 



Harry carefully wrote a 4 in, thankfully for the lesson in using his hooves.

The maths got harder. He figured every second question elevated to a new level. He got thirteen answered before he started seeing concepts he couldn't understand. Letters scattered through numbers he understood, and knew how to solve for them, but when they started getting ticks and other things around them he froze and used the red pen he'd brought with him to cross out the rest.

Cheerilee was teaching a morning math class to the rest of the students when she noticed Harry had finished the first exam. With little fanfare she selected the next from her table and carried it over. Pausing just a moment, she checked Harry's exam and nodded, "Well done."

The praise felt a little hollow. Harry had gotten barely to the bottom of the first page of three. For the first time he felt a little upset with what was being taught at Hogwarts. The page said geography, but I was worried that this would be impossible. How would I know anything about Equestria?

Opening the exam, Harry found a full-page map of Equestria. The detail was quite good, and it listed place names and some information about them. His mind raced and, when he found the first question was asking about a particular town, he referenced back to the map and information.

It was all just looking up and looking for the details. Some of it meant he had to work out how far places were apart, but it was more interesting than it was hard, and in no time he'd answered all but the last question.



What is the nearest city to Tartarus?



Harry double, triple, and then quadruple checked the map, but couldn't find Tartarus. After a fifth check he finally remembered what Cheerilee had said—he wouldn't be able to answer all the questions. So, putting a line thought that last one, he lifted his head to look at her.

When Cheerilee spotted this exam, with all but one of the questions answered, she brightened. It was more than just geographical extrapolation, there was several logic problems she'd embedded in the questions. "Next. Do your best."

Watching Cheerilee return to her lesson, Harry looked down at his exam to find a slip of paper sitting on it. Unfolding it as he reached for his pen, he paused.



Where are you from?



Looking around, he saw an earth pony filly with a two-tone purple and white mane and pink coat widening her eyes slightly. Harry tried to work out if he should lie on the paper, but then he had a better idea. 



Tartarus



He folded the paper back up and, feeling smug because he might be able to work out the final answer of the previous exam, he tossed it toward Diamond's desk.

Having to lunge to catch the note, Diamond couldn't help but look back at Harry and his odd body—though she thought his glasses were cute. She narrowed her eyes a little. He had a weird horn, but she was fairly sure he wasn't a unicorn, so that might just be normal for his kind.

The shriek as Diamond Tiara read the answer on the note startled everyone. It wasn't until lunchtime that she got to talk with Harry. "That was mean."

Having given up on using his hooves to feed himself (mostly because he knew exactly where they'd been), Harry had cast a locomotion charm on his sandwich. He just took a bite and chewed for a bit before swallowing. "I could say the same about passing me notes while I was trying to focus."

Diamond opened her mouth to reply, then saw trouble coming. "Oh, hold up, cutie mark clods incoming." She nodded in the direction of the three fillies approaching them. "What do you losers want?"

"We came to talk to our friend!" Apple Bloom stomped right up to Diamond Tiara and glared at her. "And don't get in our way."

When Diamond got to her hooves and glared at her friend, Scootaloo rushed up to give support. 

Meanwhile, Sweetie watched as Harry got up and walked off. Biting her lip and looking between Harry and her two friends, she judged that since Silver Spoon wasn't around, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom could handle Diamond Tiara.

Harry saw Sweetie catch up and slowed down a little so she could walk without rushing. "Hey."

"Is something wrong?" Sweetie asked.

"Not really. They just seemed more interested in arguing." Harry wasn't all that confused about what had just happened—after spending two years at Hogwarts, he could appreciate natural rivalries. "Can you show me something cool with your horn?"

"Uh, well, I can pick things up with it." Looking around for a good target, Sweetie spotted a rock and turned her focus on it. She definitely could pick things up with her horn, though neither her sister nor her parents let her pick up breakable things.

Harry watched as the stone wobbled and slowly lifted, surrounded by the pale greenish glow of Sweetie's magic. But he didn't just watch with his eyes, he focused through his horn, too. With his horn, Harry could feel the rush of magic from Sweetie to the rock, though it seemed kinda jagged and round-about. "Can I try now?"

"Sure you can!" Sweetie was surprised at how much fun it was to teach somepony to use their horn. "Just focus on feeling the rock first, then try holding it for a bit. That's how I was taught."

Nodding, Harry tried to reach out to the rock. It wasn't easy. He'd only typically used very small amounts of magic through his horn, but the flow he sensed even from Sweetie was huge by comparison. That's when he remembered a time he hadn't held back. 

Looking at the rock, he reached out with what he hoped was the right amount of magic. All he could see of his horn was a red glow above his eyes, but then he noticed the rock was glowing too. "Is that right?"

"Yup! Now try to feel it. There's a little bump on the other side. Try to feel that out."

Harry reached out again with the tornado of magic that seemed to be what ponies and kirin worked with. Holding the stone again, he tried to press gently on it to feel what it was, and to his surprise it worked. He could feel the stone like it was in his hand, and rolling his magic around it let him feel all the sides. "This is pretty good. Should I try to pick it up?"

Giggling, Sweetie nodded. "Go ahead."

Holding the rock, Harry tried to lift it with that magical hand, and to his surprise the rock started to lift. "Is it really this easy?"

"Well, your horn is actually on fire, and I think the rock is glowing red-hot now, but yes." For a moment Sweetie wondered if she should get another bucket of water.

Blinking, Harry dropped the stone only to see it still glowing red—but now that was from its own heat. "Ahh! Wait, I can create water!" Working the incantation to the Water-Making charm was easy, Harry sighted down his horn and let his magic flow—only for a spout of fire to erupt from his horn instead of water.

Without having her own water at hoof, Sweetie panicked a little until she realized that she could probably do the spell Harry had just messed up. In her own mind it would be just like cooking—she was excited and terrified. Concentrating on what he'd said and what he'd done with his head, she pointed her horn at the puddle of flame and said, "Aguamenti!" 

There was a pull of magic along her horn, and to Sweetie's shock a fountain of water shot from it. "It worked!" Turning to Harry, she completely forgot that it was still working.

The rush of water hitting his face was enough of a shock that Harry could stop the fire pouring from his horn. "On the fire! On the fire!"

"Oh! Right!" Turning her head back, Sweetie continued to hose down the fire until there was nothing left but mud an a (now cold) stone. "How do I stop it?!"

"Just—Just pull back your magic."

Slowly trying that, Sweetie felt a sort of pop and the flow of water just stopped. "It worked!"

"It did." Walking closer, Cheerilee looked between the two. "You're both lucky I saw it all happen. I don't think I would have believed this"—she gestured at the mud puddle and burned grass—"would have been an innocent accident. Was there a reason why you made a fountain of fire, Harry?"

"I don't get it. I tried to cast a Water-Making charm. It just—" Harry pointed one hoof to the mess they'd made.

"And it did work because I cast it!" Remembering now that she'd cast one of Harry's spells, Sweetie bounced on her hooves a few times. "It wasn't like cooking at all. It worked!"

"Yeah. You really saved my bacon." The moment he said it, Harry had to wonder if ponies had bacon. When none of them seemed to freak out, he figured he'd gotten away with it.

Cheerilee accepted the loss of a single patch of grass as a minor price for letting Sweetie Belle and Harry Potter work together on magic. "Okay. Everypony back inside. Class will resume shortly." As she walked back, she pondered who to contact about repairing the grass.

By the end of the day Harry had sat through two more exams. They weren't as difficult as he was worried about, but he was sure he'd been better able to handle these topics when he'd still been at non-wizarding school. 

When everypony else was leaving, Cheerilee gave Harry a look that said she wanted him to remain. Knowing the verdict was coming, he waited in his seat for the news—expecting the worst.

"Harry," Cheerilee said when the last of her normal class had left, "first of all, relax. The results were quite good."

That news surprised Harry. "Are you sure you didn't read it wrong?"

Shaking her head and even laughing at his joke, Cheerilee turned to the blackboard and started writing. "I tested you on several things—more than what I'd said initially. I knew you wouldn't know much more about Equestrian geography than the places you'd been, so I used that exam as a test of your problem-solving skills. On that, you aced it. Your focus and attention to detail make me believe that catching you up on the things you are behind on will be very easy indeed."

Staring at the heading Cheerilee wrote—Problem Solving—Harry was astonished to see her write a 100 there. "But I didn't get the last one? Where is Tartarus?"

"Tartarus is a secret, magical prison. Nopony knows where it is." Cheerilee went on to write Mathematics. "Here you were a little behind. Some of the concepts I'd expect a colt your age to know were absent, but I believe that won't take you long to pick up.

"Language is another matter. You are reading a few grades lower than you should be, though your comprehension is high. Probably more of that problem solving skill. It really shouldn't take a lot to bring you up to speed for a colt your age. If you work with me, we may be able to correct these mistakes within the time you'll be here." It was a challenge, because Cheerilee knew that without Harry's help, she couldn't teach him any of it. She had a thought about him, though, that he would take up such a task easily.

"On one condition." Harry holding to his wizarding ways, tried to keep the smile of his snout—and failed. "I don't have to use a quill to write with."





Addera had chosen, at the last minute, to attend different classes to Harry. Much as she still felt a driving urge to protect him, she'd also had a conversation with Cheerilee about distracting him. Which is how she came to be in a class with foals a hundredth of her age, learning simple concepts.

Her language skills, she'd been told, were nothing short of miraculous given how long she'd been using them. Mathematics, history, and geography were all start from scratch subjects. So she applied herself with the same determination that she had to protecting Harry.

Settling into life in Ponyville had become as easy as waving to everyone she met and trying to smile without showing her fangs. She was enjoying a cup of tea in the library, relaxing and reading a book, when an owl flew through the window. 

"Hedwig? Wait, no…" Harry looked at the barn owl with some curiosity, until he realized it was carrying a letter. That's when it sank in that they'd been in Ponyville for two and a half months. "Well, is it for me or Addera?"

When the owl hopped closer to Harry, he held out a hoof to it and collected the letter. While his telekinesis was getting better, he still had a tendency to leak heat. Heat, he knew, wasn't good for paper. "Thank you." When the owl didn't let go immediately, he scrunched his snout up in annoyance. "I said, thank you."

"Just give them a cookie, Harry Potter. They can have one of mine." It was magnanimity on a scale Addera didn't often extend, though she did have a rather impressive cookie hoard. 

"Last time I tried to take one your cookies, you hissed at me." Harry finally got the letter out of the owl's beak. Sure enough, it was addressed to him.

"That was a reflex, Harry Potter."

"You told me I could have one!" Opening the letter, harry found two slips of paper inside and a whole extra envelope. "This is odd, I—"



Harry Potter and Addera

We expect school to start within two weeks, and are inviting any students who wish to continue their classes here at Hogwarts to be here shortly. Below is a list of things you're expected to bring. 



It included a list of things that, Harry was saddened to note, included writing quills. "Well, this one is from McGonagall. She says that there's a pile of things we need to bring back with us. Oh, I just realized, she addressed this to both of us."

When she wanted to, Addera could move fast. In the process of moving fast, she closed her book on her bookmark, slithered her forward body around in an arc to where Harry was laying in the midst of her coils, and read over his shoulder. "We will have to say goodbye to Miss Cheerilee."

"Yeah. There's a whole other letter in here, and another note I—" Harry stopped speaking when he saw the name on the front of the envelope—Charles Weasley. "Huh?"



Harry Potter,

Sorry to bother you, dear, but when I asked around everyone at Hogwarts to borrow an owl, and asked them for the smartest they have, they all told me I was daft and should be sending a letter to you.

That nice witch up at the castle, Sybill Trelawney, said my boys were all here, and I'd like to know if your clever Hedwig would be able to find my Charles. If she can't figure it out, wait to send the letter until you return up here and I'll dig out some of his old things for her to get a feel from.

Thank you, dear.

—Molly Weasley.



Focusing his thoughts, Harry thought, 'Hedwig? Can you come and help me with something?' No thoughts came to him immediately, but there was a sense of soonness he detected. "A witch at Hogwarts told Mrs. Weasley that all of her sons are here, so she wants to see if Hedwig can find Charley—that's Ron's older brother."

"Hedwig is the smartest bird I know, Harry Potter. If any can, she can." Carefully closing her book on a bookmark, Addera set it down and waited for Hedwig to appear—she figured Harry had already called her. When it seemed to drag on, she opened her mouth to ask where Hedwig was when the bird herself appeared.

Winging into the library through an open window, Hedwig circled the room in silent wings before she pulled her wings forward into a stall and—claws extended—dropped at Harry in a way that would kill most creatures.

Sighing as Hedwig's claws worked on his scaled back, Harry turned his head halfway around to look back at her. "What do you think? Can you find him?"

'Not without something more. I'd need to smell, hear, or see him.' Peering over Harry's shoulder at the note, Hedwig fluffed her wings. 'Did he write this?'

"No he—This was written by his mother," Harry said as he held the letter up with his hoof.

Leaning forward and walking up to Harry's shoulder, Hedwig ripped a little from the bottom corner of the letter and chewed on it thoughtfully. 'Not enough. I need to smell/taste/see something personal.'

Addera, unable to hear Hedwig's thoughts or understand her soft whistles, twitched the tip of her tail back and forth a few times in curiosity. "What does she say, Harry Potter?"

"No good. She needs something personal of his to—uh—smell or taste. It's kinda jumbled since smell and taste are kinda the same thing for her, just different intensity." Reaching a hoof up, he rubbed Hedwig's neck and chest. "It's okay. We'll go back a little early and find you something to help. It'll mean you have to fly further, though."

'I was born to fly!'

"I guess we will be traveling back to Hogwarts, Harry Potter." Reaching out to Hedwig, Addera rubbed the crest of her head. "We will have to pack many cookies."





Fussing about finding all the items on the booklist had taken a day, four checklists, and three quill tips she'd nervously broken. "Are you sure you have everything?" She looked at Addera and Harry. 

"You got us both twice what we need, Twilight." Despite the weight, it was surprisingly easy to carry all the stuff in his saddlebags. Turning to look at Hedwig, Harry smiled at her and reached his head a little further to rub his nose against her beak. "You doing okay?"

'You promise you'll send me to visit Fluttershy each week for cookies?' Hedwig asked, making an audible whistle as they rubbed noses.

'Of course I will.' Harry turned back to look at Addera. "What about you?"

"I am nervous, Harry Potter. I know I have a wand, and Headmistress McGonagall made up that lie so I could attend classes without anyone being upset, but there's still things going on that worry me. King Sombra's return, for example." Addera shivered at the thought of the creature. She had often wondered about the source of magic for the spell that'd bound her in the Chamber Of Secrets, and now she didn't have to.

"Whatever comes, we'll face it together," Harry said.

The notion, along with the firm tone he'd used, made Addera so happy she coiled Harry up in the middle of the street so she could hug him extra well. "You are truly amazing, Harry Potter."

"He's also not breathing. You, uh, might want to relax your grip a little." Knowing the pair well enough to realize it was just their particular kind of sibling-like friendship, Twilight gave them a moment longer before she sighed. "I'm going to miss having all three of you around."

"Mostly Harry, I would assume." Relaxing her coils, Addera set harry back down on his own hooves. "What with all the cleaning he does."

"Don't think I haven't noticed how much Spike sleeps now." Twilight couldn't stop a chuckle escaping. "But, if you want to head out today, we'd best get back to the library and get your things to the station."

The walk/slither back to the library was much quieter. Neither Harry nor Addera felt like talking until both got inside the library and found Cheerilee waiting for them.

"There you are. Twilight sent me a message you'll be leaving earlier than originally intended, so I thought I best bring you your presents now." Reaching to her left saddlebag, Cheerilee lifted out four big books and passed them to Harry, then did the same on the right side with four identical books. "Consider these your own little research projects."

Harry looked at his books. "Mathematics, history, and two novels to read?"

"There are notes in each of the two textbooks. Please work through them at your own paces. This is not to get you ahead of your classes here, but hopefully make next holidays less of a struggle to catch up. The novels are two I'd like you both to read and write reports on. Also, if you could, keep a journal of everything that happens." Cheerilee lifted out a pair of notebooks with names stenciled on the covers. One said Harry Potter, the other Addera Potter.

"I…" Addera was lost for words at seeing Harry's last name on her journal.

"It suits you." Harry looked up at Addera and could already tell what was coming. Scooped up in her tail and coiled to within an inch of his life, he leaned into the "hug" she gave him.

"You are an amazing person, Harry Potter."

"You too, Addera Potter."





The train ride back to the Crystal Empire took the rest of the day and the night. Being an overnight ride, they'd gotten a sleeper room to themselves. Addera had coiled herself around Harry and pulled a blanket over both of them. When Hedwig snugged herself down under the blanket too, Addera couldn't help but let out a soft hiss.

When dawn came—the sun leaping above the horizon—Harry yawned and poked his head further out of the blankets. "What time is it?"

'Morning time. Time to hunt. Time to—Oh, cookies!' Distracted from her normal raptorial predations by the cookie Addera put before her, Hedwig picked it up with one claw and started biting into the delicious baked treat.

Harry wasn't prepared to actually fight with Addera's coils to get free, so instead relaxed a little. "We're supposed to arrive mid-morning, right?"

"That's what the stationmaster said, Harry Potter. We have something important we need to do right now." Reaching to her backpack, Addera lifted out her journal and a ballpoint pen. 

"Oh, right. Are we going to keep writing down everything each morning?" Locating his own saddlebags, Harry pulled out his journal and started writing not just about his previous day, but also the two and a half months he'd spent in Ponyville.

Addera had decided on a similar path to Harry, though she went a step further and started to write about the first time she saw Harry Potter. "Perhaps we'll change to night-time writing. That way things are more fresh in our minds, Harry Potter."

Each was finishing their writing as the train shifted—the slowing of the locomotive causing the cars behind it to bunch up.

Putting his journal into his saddlebags, Harry now climbed out of Addera's coils and pulled the straps over his back. Living as a kirin had become easier once he learned to use his hooves properly, and would become far more so when he could use his horn without incinerating things. "Hedwig, are you ready?"

Barking at Harry, Hedwig climbed up from Addera's scales to his back and walked to his shoulders before she clamped her talons down firmly. 'I am now ready.'

Laughing, Harry used a Locomotor spell to open the door. There weren't many others on the train, but with it being just two passenger cars and the rest freight, they were all packed in tight. 

Ponies were poking their heads out up and down the car, but they all froze when Addera slithered out after Harry. She looked each way and gave her best non-fang smile and followed Harry toward the doors.

When the train finally stopped at the platform, Harry bounced off the step and down to the platform, followed by Addera. "Looks like they moved the station closer to the city."

"Or, Harry Potter, the city grew closer to the station. Let us go and contact Headmistress McGonagall." Looking around, Addera could feel the weight of someone covertly watching them. As she slithered down the steps to the road, she scanned around with her scrying glasses until she spotted them.

The walk to the castle was otherwise unremarkable. Addera and Harry walked up to the two big crystal ponies standing guard at the front gates. "We're going to Hogwarts," Harry said.

Used to having foals coming in, the two guards nonetheless made note of Addera and reported her arrival to their superiors. Meanwhile, Harry and Addera went inside the castle and took the stairway up and into Hogwarts.

It was Harry's home away from home, and the moment his hooves were on the old stone of the castle he felt a calm normality settle over him. It wasn't that Ponyville was all that weird, but in just a few months he saw one of Twilight's friends get multiplied dozens of times and had his friends, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle, being put in a dozen bad situations by Apple Bloom's cousin. 

Just the smell of the old castle made him tingle all over with excitement. "Do you feel that, Addera?"

"It's nice to be back, Harry Potter, but this doesn't feel like home anymore." Addera tested her scutes on the stone and hissed at it. "I prefer organic things under me. Wooden floors and carpets and grass."

"Yeah, I kinda like Ponyville too, but it's a bit safer for me here. I can practically burn right here and not cause anything but a warm patch on the stone." He led the way to the hallway where the teachers' offices were located. "And we get to learn more wizard magic."

Addera sighed. "Yes, but we lose out on actual learning, Harry Potter. And I like Miss Cheerilee more than I like any of the teachers here." 

Harry had to think for a little bit before he shook his head. "You know, there's one teacher that I only ever had good classes with. I'll never forget a single thing she taught me—Madam Hooch."

"Right. Your flying. I noticed you didn't bring your broom, Harry Potter." They neared the headmaster's office, so Addera went quiet and slithered up to it at Harry's side. 

This wasn't the real headmaster's office, but it was the one Minerva McGonagall preferred. It was spartan and neat, and that's how she wished it to remain. When there was a discrete knock at the door, she looked up from her paperwork. "Come in, please."

When Minerva saw Harry Potter, Addera, and Hedwig, she couldn't help but smile just a little more. "Harry, Addera, it's good to see you both. And how could I forget Hedwig. What can I do for you?"

Harry tried to relax, but it was hard given what McGonagall was to the school now. "Well, uh, we got the letter, and have all our things—" 

"Two of all our things, Harry Potter," Addera said.

Grinning a little now, Harry nodded. "Right. Two of all our things. But the problem was Hedwig doesn't know Charley Weasley enough to find him. She said if she could smell or taste things belonging to him, she could do it."

"You know, Harry, I would never have considered it so useful to be able to communicate with a messenger owl before. Do you require directions to the Weasley's farm?" Pulling out a piece of parchment, Minerva charged her quill.

Turning her head to show that she was looking at Hedwig, Addera asked, "Couldn't Hedwig lead us to Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter?"

'Can you do that, Hedwig?' Harry turned his head to look at her while he waited for her reply.

Hedwig, at that moment, was staring at a corner of Minerva's office, eyes fixated on the tiny field mouse that was staring back at her from just outside its hole. 'Could you cast a spell that would hold that mouse for me?'

'Hedwig I—Alright, I'll do it, but can you tell me if you can find Ron?'

'I can find Ron with my eyes closed, a hood on, and tied to a perch.'

Rolling his eyes, Harry sighted up the mouse and cast a Stunner on it. The red jolt of energy hit the tiny thing a moment before Hedwig did. Turning his head back to a surprised Minerva, he said, "She says she can find him."

"G-Good." It was a struggle for Minerva to come to terms with what she'd just seen, let alone the delight Hedwig seemed to have in ripping the hapless mouse in half. "You won't be needing a map then. If you wish, you can drop your things off in the Gryffindor rooms before going out to see them."

"There was one other thing, Headmistress McGonagall." Addera looked aside at Harry without turning her head. "We were followed from the train station to here."

Minerva set her quill down and lifted her hoof up to pinch the bridge of her nose, only to remember at the last moment how bad a hoof is for doing so. "He has people following everyone. He issued a formal apology for—" She managed to stop herself before unburdening everything on Harry and Addera. From recent history she'd learned that when Harry Potter found things out, he usually got tangled up in them. "Just following you isn't breaking any law, however if they try to stop you, I would suggest using your easiest means of getting away."

Addera's coils twitched and squirmed—she couldn't help but feel on-edge. "Who are they?"

"Ministry of Magic. A Mr. Herbert Trencent took control of what loyal members arrived here, and he's making a—a headache of it. I shan't say more because I know you, Harry, and if I say too much you'll wind up right in the middle of it. They should be ignoring students, though I imagine your history is catching up with you. Please, Addera, don't let anything untoward happen." The one person Minerva felt she could trust implicitly, so far as Harry's wellbeing went, was a basilisk. The school year hadn't started and Minerva already felt herself in need of a holiday. "Now, please, go and help Mrs. Weasley find her son."

It sobered Harry more than the Ministry snooping around all over the place that his friends' mum needed his help. "Come on, Addera, Hedwig, let's drop our stuff off and get out to find the Weasleys quick as we can."

The painting was gone. There was just a simple door over the entrance to Gryffindor tower. Even after Harry and Addera unloaded the things they didn't need into the main sitting room and left, it took Harry until they were almost out of the castle before he realized what had been wrong. "What happened to all the paintings?"

"I imagine they were gone with the ghosts, Harry Potter. Would you like to try to outpace this annoying tail?" As they came to the exit of the crystal castle, Addera nodded to the two guards. "Where are our tails?"

One of the guards chuckled and cleared his throat. "There's always two watching the front door. They're in the shadows of the alleyway across the street and down there two houses. A third had joined them, that'll be your tail. Want a distraction?" 

"That would be much appreciated. We just need a few seconds and I can get us out of sight." Addera hadn't been sure what to expect from the "distraction", but a boiling sea of fog hadn't been it. The guardpony's horn glowed a deep blue color and the mist seemed to boil out of the very crystal itself. "Perfect, thank you." She picked up Harry and transferred Hedwig to her own back, then slithered like a reptilian missile across the fogged-in plaza around the castle.

Harry almost laughed at how well the cover worked. With no one able to see, Addera's ability to feel movement in the ground meant that she had no trouble navigating down the street and around ponies startled by the fog. But it couldn't last forever. The fog blew away, though they were beating a retreat down a completely different street from where the guard had pointed. 'Hedwig, where do we need to go from here?'

Rather than answer, Hedwig spread her wings and brought up the memory of Ronald Weasley. She liked Ron, since he'd shared bits of food with her for not chasing his rat around (though every other rat in the castle had been fair game). 'This way.'

Lifting a hoof to gesture, Harry guided Addera through the wide streets of the Crystal Empire, all the way out to the edge and past it. A light snow was falling, though what surprised Harry was the Weasleys' farm—in its entirety—was before him.

The road that should have stopped at the edge of the barrier that the Crystal Heart was making extended out as a snow-covered track that was barely visible. Here and there patches of dirt showed through the light snow-cover—and led to the ramshackle building in the distance. 

"The Burrow! That's it! That's their house!" Harry only had a second to wonder at it being in Equestria before Addera was speeding along the track and over the snow toward what should have been still back on Earth. "I wonder how they brought it with them?"

Circling around the house, Hedwig spotted the kitchen window and decided to press her luck. On silent wings she stooped and dove to the sill before grabbing on with her talons. Inside, she saw the pony Ronald Weasley stuffing things into a bag—none of which smelled like food. Indignantly, she gave a bark at him to pay attention to her.

"Hedwig? Is that you?" Jumping to his hooves, Ron rushed to the window and reared up to look out for Harry. When he couldn't immediately see his friend, he looked up at Hedwig again. "Did you come on your own or somethin'?"

Looking around the house, Hedwig failed to see any mice, rats, or anything at all that might be tasty. This only encouraged her to bark again and turn her head to watch Addera getting closer.

When they reached the back door of The Burrow, Harry jumped out of Addera's grip and walked up to the door—then knocked. "Hello?"

Ron raced to the door at hearing his friend's call and used a hoof to pull it open. "Harry!"

"Ron!" It was just like a year ago, only he wasn't sneaking in with Ron, Fred, and George. The Burrow was just like he remembered it inside, even if it was fighting a battle with snow outside. Having lived with ponies for nearly three months, though, Harry was far more in a hugging mood. Rearing up, he grabbed Ron and squeezed his friend.

"Harry Potter?" Molly Weasley was a rather large crystal earth pony with a stormy red mane and tail over a soft brown coat—that was mostly hidden under a flowing dress. She had a motherly figure even as a pony, but as she looked at Harry Potter she dared to feel hope. "My Charlie?"

Letting go of a surprised Ron, Harry started to walk around him and toward Molly. 'Hedwig, you get to be a star now.' To Molly he said, "Hedwig needs something of Charlie's so she can get a feel for him. Clothes or items he held. Smells and even tastes."

Molly's mind was sharp as any barber's straight-razor. "You came as soon as you could. Of course you did. Come along, let me go up to his room and see what we can find." The last words she spoke more to Hedwig than Harry.

Marching after Molly, carrying Hedwig on his back, Harry felt almost like a procession of two. 'She wants to give you whatever you need to find him. Can you help her, Hedwig?' 

'If she has things that smell enough of him, yes.' Hedwig wasn't a fan of stairs—at least when she was riding on Harry's back. She dug her claws into his scales a little tighter because she knew it wouldn't hurt him. 'Stop jostling so much.'

'I can't help it. These stairs were awkward to climb even when I was human. Are you on tight enough I can bounce up them?' Harry felt Hedwig's reply as she clenched tighter still and reached to the back of his head and grabbed up some of his mane in her beak.

Harry let Molly get a bit of a lead before he started to pronk his way up the stairs. For a kirin, overly enthusiastic bouncing was a way of life. It brought him joy and excitement, despite that being at-odds with the seriousness of the situation. When Molly stopped at a door, drew her wand, and gestured at it to open, Harry stopped his bouncing.

"This is my Charlie's room. I'll get some things and we'll see if Hedwig can find him." Molly had to bite back any more words lest she start crying. She trusted in the mini-prophecy about all her children being in this new world, and she had to trust in Hedwig's ability too. There wasn't another option.

'Do it, please?' Harry asked mentally.

Jumping down from Harry's back, Hedwig entered the room and already felt a strong male-human smell wrap around her. Hopping forward—closer to the stack of clothing that Molly was making—she jumped into the side of the stack and spread it out on the floor. 

Ignoring the noises Molly made, Hedwig leaned down and found something that had many, many layers of the male-scent.

"Well I'll be… She found one of Charlie's hankies." Molly stared in surprise once she realized the daft owl wasn't trying to destroy all Charlie's clothes.

Smells told Hedwig a lot about someone. She felt confident, as she sorted the smells into her memory, that she'd be able to find him no matter what. 'I can find him now. Get a letter ready.'

'Right!' Reaching into his saddlebag, Harry pulled out the sealed letter Molly had sent to be forwarded to Charlie. "Is this all you want sent to him?"

Molly almost gasped. The letter was still in perfect condition. Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

'Okay. Take this to Charlie. I know you can do it, Hedwig. You're the best owl there is.' Harry hopped on three legs over to her and passed Hedwig the letter. When she held it in her beak, he cast a Locomotor charm on the window and pulled it open. "There you go. Thank you, Hedwig."

Rushing to the window after the bird, Molly stuck her head out (and almost all of herself in her haste). "Thank you!" She watched Hedwig flap her wings and soar off into the snowy sky. "Thank you."

Harry backed out the door and left Molly to the room. He wasn't sure how to react to her and figured Ron would probably be better company. Pronking back down the stairs as easily as he pronked up them, he found Addera and Ron at the table chatting away.

Turning his head when he heard Harry reach the bottom of the stairs, Ron looked at his friend. "Here, Addera said you found cookies that taste like meat but aren't?"

"They're actually better than that. I don't know how they make them exactly, but they also have almost everything in them a meat-eater needs to live. Fluttershy did get us to go fishing, it was something about fatty oils, but it was fun to just relax and hang around with Harry." The last bit made Harry grin, mostly because of the name confusion it had caused already. What had really surprised him was how ponies tended to have really unique names, but they named their pets normal names. 

"You found a pony named Harry?" Ron asked.

"No." Harry climbed up onto a seat at the kitchen table. "I found a bear named Harry. He's really nice."

"A bear?"

"Yes." Harry tapped his hooves on the table a few times, enjoying leaving his friend befuddled. "A bear."

"Not, like, an animagus bear?" Each clarification seemed crazier and crazier. Dragons and hippogriffs were one thing, but a bear was a big, dumb creature that would just eat you. There were no rules with normal creatures.

"No. Harry Potter is correct. Harry is just a normal bear." Addera reached to her back and produced a cookie. "And he is an honorable bear."

Looking at both Harry and Addera in confusion now, Ron had to finally just shake his head and lean back a little. "Did you get followed when you came out here?"

"Mum said you were 'ere, Harry!" Fred walked over to where Harry was sitting and reached up with a hoof to ruffle Harry's mane. "It's good to see you back. Bit early for school, innit?"

"Yeah, but I heard your mum needed to borrow the smartest owl in the world, so I figured we'd come up here a bit early and lend her Hedwig." As soon as Harry mentioned the situation, he saw Fred's normal jovial veneer crack for just a moment.

"Mum"—Fred clung to the same hope that Sybill Trelawney's prediction was right as his mother did—"is real worried about Charlie. We all are." Making a supreme effort to school his features, Fred ruffled Harry's mane with his hoof again. "But if any owl can find 'im, Hedwig can."

"Hey, Harry, you want to come and see what we done with the farm?" Ron asked.





'I found him!'

The mental shout broke Harry from his focus and, as a result, he fell off his broom. Thankfully it was only a short drop to the ground, but he still tumbled a few times before coming to a stop. "Hedwig?"

Circling above Harry, Hedwig slowly shed her height until she could land on the ground beside him. 'Of course it's me. Who else were you expecting?'

Rolling to his side and holding out a hoof toward her, Harry beckoned Hedwig over. "Wait, you said you found him? Charlie?!"

Hopping toward Harry, Hedwig leaned her head forward to get a good rub from his hoof. 'Where do you think I got this letter? Should we take it to his mother?'

Jumping to his hooves, Harry looked around the quidditch pitch for where his broom had wound up. Bouncing on all fours over to it, he landed perfectly on the broom and took off. 'Yeah! Come on, Hedwig, let's deliver that letter!'

With a bark of excitement, Hedwig leapt into the air and pumped her wings to catch up with Harry. She didn't care that he could fly faster with his broom, just that she got to fly with him.

Higher was safer, or so Harry knew. If he got good and high he could fall and have time to cast a safety spell before he hit the ground. So, pulling Hedwig along in his wake, he shot into a steep climb and got over the walls of the quidditch pitch, over the towers around it, and even higher than the Crystal Castle was.

Flying, despite being a kirin, was part of who Harry Potter was. He might not have his own wings, but even just two days alone with his broom again and he could fly it almost as well as he could when he was human. It didn't matter that he wasn't on Earth anymore, or that he might never see another completely human person, or even that he still couldn't stop the urge to burn things at least once a day.

Hedwig led the way. She knew exactly where she was and where she was going all the time because she was a superior owl—as she would tell anyone if they could understand her. 'Is that as fast as you can go?'

Harry laughed and willed his broom to go faster, chasing after Hedwig.

Neither noticed the glint of light from a rooftop of someone watching them through binoculars. 

When they were over the Weasley home, Harry and Hedwig both tipped forward into a dive. Opening his mouth to scream in excitement turned out to be a bad idea—the moment Harry did, three bugs dove suicidally into his gaping maw.

Coughing and only barely holding onto his broom, Harry struggled to get mounted on it properly again and sent his willpower out and ordering a halt. 

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doin', Harry?" Ron asked, looking at Harry hanging upside down from his broom just three inches from the ground.

Still trying to spit out struggling insects, Harry finally just let go of the broom and fell to his back. As he hit the ground, his mouth snapped closed and his throat worked instinctively. "Oh yuck! Gross! Agghhh!"

Spotting Hedwig, Ron froze. What had his full and undivided attention was the note in her beak. "I-Is that from Charlie?"

Hedwig was many things, but a bad messenger owl was not one of them. She hopped around Ron and evaded his attempts to grab the letter and then gave a quick pump of her wings to reach the back door of the house where Molly Weasley was standing.

The letter in Hedwig's beak looked familiar to Molly, she could see her own handwriting on the outside of the folded piece of paper. It meant someone had opened the envelope and then given Hedwig the note from inside, folded backwards. "You found him?"

Even with her beak still holding the letter, Hedwig could make a soft bark. She hopped up to Molly's legs and waited for her to reach out with a hoof before offering the letter.

Opening the paper, Molly saw the first words and felt her back legs fold under her, dumping her rump in the doorway. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she tried to read.



Dear Mum,

I'm alive, though I've had a few changes. I don't know how easiest to put it, but I turned into a little unicorn made of diamond. I'm safe with friends, but even that's going to take some explaining.

I fell through a portal——



As she read about her son, Rake and Inferno, and even the Bent-Twigs, Molly wept happy tears. He was alive—her little boy was alive—and by all accounts he had landed on his hooves running. When she got to the bottom of the letter, her eyes fighting to read through the moisture in them, she saw Charlie's explanation for why he couldn't come home.

It hurt all the more precisely because it was such a Charlie thing to do. Rereading the note again, she barely noticed her family gathering around to read the letter.

"Lad seems to have landed on his feet—err, hooves." Arthur reached his hoof up and rubbed Molly's shoulder. "And it never surprises me how he manages to find dragons."

"Find?" George snorted and nodded toward the letter. "He finds himself a dragon woman and you expect him to zoom home? Well, he might, but you better believe it would be with 'er."

"Do you think he'll come visit when he marries her?" Fred elbowed his brother. "Or will he send an invitation to the wedding?"

"Cut it out, you two." Bill gave his two brothers a shove to get them away from the door. "Mum, do you think I should go and find 'im?"

It cost Molly far more fortitude than she realized to say, "No. Charlie's fine where he is. Besides, we might be able to get a portkey or even the Floo network to get us there much faster. And, we have things to do here still. Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Ginny all need to get ready for school." Normalcy helped. Having things to do and prepare for—and now knowing for sure her son was safe—Molly got back up to her hooves and noticed Harry for the first time. "Harry! Join us for lunch."

Grabbing his broom under his foreleg, Harry walked over to where the Weasleys were waiting. "If you're sure it's okay?" Hedwig jumped onto his back and, digging her claws in for stability, let out a soft whistle.

"You and Hedwig are always welcome here."
> Airships and Freedom
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We can take another of those, but they can't! Give them another!"

Aileek heard the shout from the deck and worked fast. Her paws were far better suited to loading the cannon than most of the others—besides, they had magic. She finished tamping the ball into the gun and heaved on the ropes to pull its muzzle out the gunport.

Wiping the soot from her brow, Aileek sighted down the gun and saw her prize. The other ship's rudder. Timing things just right, she set match to fuse and quickly covered her ears.

The roar of the cannon wasn't a sharp crack, like she'd always heard them. Not this close. This close to a cannon firing, she could hear the moment the fuse lit the first narrow section of charge. She could hear the rumble as it progressed its burning up into the main bowl, and then the scream from the cannonball as it was shot down the barrel.

As soon as the ball left the muzzle the familiar crack sounded—the rush of the fast-expanding gasses hurling it free. When the gun had stopped moving, Aileek leaned over it and sighted down the barrel again. What she saw made her let out a whoop of excitement.

The steering mechanism of the other airship was now a hail of splinters raining down into the sea.

"Get up here, Aileek! We've got them!" Blastback steered the airship over, approaching the Storm King vessel with a burning excitement. "All hands! Ready to board! Kill their engine and secure the crew!"

"Aye!" The shout went up from his team, all of them a mix of human and pony. 

Magic, Blastback Davies had discovered, was different here. It worked mostly the same, but the more you used it, the more you changed. He had stopped changing with hands still, which made him one of the best suited for steering. He looked over his crew.

Jack Crowley, the wizard who had been trying to keep the portal secure, could stand upright but had lost his hands. He'd also been the first to learn the trick of holding things with a hoof.

Liz Harrington, like Blastback, stood upright and crystalline, her wand aimed before her and a spell already arcing from it toward the other ship. 

Firelight McOwens, his pyro specialist, was much like himself, but the team's medic, Defthands Flowers, had lost his namesake.

Junebug Banning (their summoner) and Rentari Dean (the fastest caster and best with a sword) were both lacking hands, but unlike the rest of them they were a unicorn and a pegasus respectively.

The last was Daku. He was an elementalist who specialized in sand, and he was also now a quadrupedal pony. "Boss, want me to bring it down?"

"No! We need more fuel and powder. Check the hold for food and water, too. If you find any prisoners, bring them back." Blastback's eyes scanned the lines of Storm King shocktroops standing on the deck and growled. "Get in there!"

The fighting was swift and violent. The Storm King's troops were like brick walls when it came to magic and like shredding machines if they got close, but the wizards had grown used to the threat. Summoned monsters did battle with the ship's defenders while Firelight shouldered her rifle and took careful aim.

Breathing slowly, accounting for the shift of both ships, Firelight squeezed the trigger. The crack of the rifle hit her ears a moment before the butt of the weapon shoved into her shoulder. On the deck of the Storm King's ship, one of the big, armored figures staggered, wobbled, then fell.

With their collection of bullets limited, it was important they spend every single one carefully. Firelight turned the rifle to her next target. The ship wasn't going anywhere, so the captain wasn't important, but there was a creature at the back barking orders and shouting at the troops to hold their line.

Junebug waited for the second crack to sound before she went to work. She didn't question why her horn glowed when she used magic, but she was thankful it seemed to make spells far more effective. "A few water dragons should do. Come, little brothers, show these bastards your teeth!"

Barrels of water on the deck of the Storm King's ship started to shake and tremble before exploding to reveal that the water inside had become giant lizards. Crawling up to the shocktroops, they ignored the spears and started beating on the armored hulks.

As Aileek reached the deck, she looked around to get an idea of what was happening. Blastback and his crew were swinging grapples toward the other ship and pulling it closer with each one they attached. Something else, coming from high in the sky where the sun lingered, caught her eye. "Pirates! Uh, ten o'clock and coming down fast!"

Due to the angle they were coming down at, Celaeno couldn't see what was going on with the two Storm King ships, but she knew sitting ducks when she saw them. "Get ready, ya scallywags! I want the captains of those two ships tossed overboard quick-smart, and any of them big lads too! Rig for a broadside tackle and get ready with the grapplers!" 

The crew of the Kestrel rushed about on the deck, grabbing swords and grapples, then lining up on the deck nearest the ship they were about to board. Squabble rushed across the swaying deck with his heavy load to slot it into the heavy bracket on the railing. 

Pulling out his powder horn, he dumped in what he knew to be a good load, stuffed a handful of shot and marbles into the barrel of the small cannon, and titled it just as the other ship's deck came into view. 

Lining the deck gun up with the other ship's wheelhouse, he drew a match across the life-preserver around his neck and let out a loud squawk before lighting the four-second-fuse.

The shot wasn't to kill anyone—though the helmsman of the target ship did make the decision to stand by the wheel—the controls of the ship shattered and exploded into so much splinters and warped metal.

"Lix! Bring us in tight!" Launching herself to the railing, Celaeno had her flintlock in one hand and her cutlass in the other as the deck came fully into sight. "What's this?" She watched as the Storm King's marines were being cut down by what looked like a pony dancing around with a pair of glowing swords clutched in each of its wings. "Ho there! What crew are you with?!"

After seeing the remains of the helm (and helmsman) of the Storm King's ship scatter to the winds, Blastback knew that he didn't want to deal with the pirates if he could help it. He could bluff or tell them the truth. "No crew! We just like beating the snot out of these guys!" A bit of both, he decided, would be best.

"Calm yer blood, lads, but don't stand down. We have something interestin' here." Celaeno waited until the grapples were secure before jumping across to the ship. She slid her flintlock into its holster at her back and slid her cutlass back in its sheath—she didn't think any of the strange ponies would be fast enough to get to her before she could get either back out and ready. "While I'm not normally one to cut in, you understand we thought this was a two-fer party."

Blastback was acutely aware that the bird-person who'd fired the deck gun had just finished reloading it. He didn't have to think far to know that Firelight would have her gun ready should anything go south. "We only wanted supplies and a chance to rough up another Storm King crew. If you let us take what we're after, you can have the rest—just scuttle this thing when you're done."

Unable to stop it, Celaeno's crest jerked upright in surprise and excitement at the offer. "Well"—she turned to her crew, all of which were waiting for the command to attack—"hear that, me hearties? We get a cut of the loot for no work!"

The cheer was a relief for Blastback. He turned to his own squadmates and nodded to Junebug. "Clear out any more of them from below, then have your pets dump themselves into the water barrels." From the corner of his eye he watched Celaeno walk closer. Turning, he reached up to his slouch hat and brought it down while he bowed. "Commander Blastback Davies, at your service."

"Captain Celaeno and her crew, at yours. Don't see many ponies out this way, even less in the business, and less still looking quite that—unique." Celaeno could only recognize two of Blastback's crew exactly, a dark colored earth pony and an Abyssinian. "She crew or cargo?"

"Bit of both. We're not from around here. Started using magic and turned into what you see here. She"—Blastback wondered how far he should go—"she needed a ride and is handy with a cannon. Took this heap of junk's tail off with one shot."

"Why're you still running Storm King colors?"

"Makes it easier to sneak up on them. By the time they know it's us, Aileek has the cannon lined up on their rudder, and they're easy pickings." 

Reaching down to the deck and crouching, Celaeno raked a claw over the wood to gauge how long it had been since being polished. "Why are you taking them on, if not for loot?" She looked at the curled wood under her claws and saw very little polish and very new polish.

"Would you believe we just don't like them? We're still in the skies of—"

Standing up, Celaeno walked around Blastback and toward Aileek. Keeping her claws away from her weapons, she walked right up to Aileek and got in her personal space. "Hrmm…" Reaching to Aileek's chin, Celaeno pressed a claw under it and forced Aileek to look up at her. "Ha! Royal family! I knew I recognized that face!"

Aileek hissed a little and took a step back. "I'm not close to the throne, so don't—"

"Oh, I don't doubt that. Your father did so much begatting that I'm surprised I don't have a few half-breeds in my crew. No, it's just a surprise to find such a happy-go-lucky group as ponies teaming up with a royal brat and chasing down Storm Guard." Celaeno felt a tickle to her pride at having Aileek step away from her. "But you said you aren't ponies?" she asked, turning back to Blastback.

"We're not, but we play them on the telly." When neither Celaeno nor Aileek even grinned at his joke, Blastback rolled his eyes. "We came from another world. Using our magic made us change into what you see here. We met Aileek while she was having an argument with some of the Storm King's goons. They seemed to want to put spears through her and she tried to convince them it was a bad idea. We backed up her argument."

"And now you're cruising around taking out their airships? You know they'll wake up eventually and send a fleet after you." Celaeno's eyes caught two of Blastback's squad return from belowdeck with Storm King ship fuel rods. "There's better ways to fly than those things."

Blastback nodded to Liz and Jack as they brought up more of the fuel rods. "How many ships does he have?" 

"If it was just guts, I'd call it about 50/50 as to if you'll bring down every one, but this guy has generals—some of them are smart bastards too. Eventually they'll consolidate and send a whole fleet after you. Fifty ships or so and it doesn't matter how hard your crew is—not in that heap of junk."

The truly annoying thing for Blastback was that she was right. "This is where you make an offer, right?"

"Yeah, this is where I make an offer and you think about it hard and say yes." Celaeno watched Blastback's crew working to roll barrels of powder and water out now. "These ships are ugly and slow things, but they have good equipment on them. Ten of these sows will get you a clipper that can keep ahead of anything the Storm King has. If you want our help, we'll take an extra five and run interference with any fleets that come."

"What do you think?" Blastback asked, looking over to Aileek.

"We were going to be hunting them anyway. How do we get them to wherever you can sell them?" Circling around Celaeno, Aileek stood beside Blastback.

"This one isn't going anywhere on her own. We work together. You take on ships how you do—taking out their rudder—and we'll keep the steering intact with any we take. I'll put a prize crew on it and send it back to our home port." Narrowing her eyes, Celaeno waited for the penny to drop.

"And you take everything we capture?" Aileek asked.

"Not exactly." As he said it, Blastback heard a whistle from Firelight. "We'd still get all the provisions we want from the ships we take, it's just we'd be giving them to the nice pirate lady."

"So, for you, business as usual—except you don't scuttle the ships. We take them away. Once we have fourteen, you get yourselves a better ship and we make a profit." Tapping her peg leg on the deck, Celaeno chuckled. "And, it looks like we have one down already."

Blastback laughed at the enthusiasm. "How would one of these ships signal for help?" 

For a moment Celaeno was dumbfounded before she started squawking a loud laugh. "Now that's an attitude I like. Right, so they have a magic flare they can launch that will bring their boys in from miles around. Let's leave this junk sitting here, empty, and we'll both hide and wait to see what shows up."

"Is that alright with you, princess?" Blastback asked, looking at Aileek.

Aileek hated involving others into their dealings, but it made sense. The pirates wanted their own cut, which they were getting, and it meant she got the second step on her way to building a navy for her nation. "Sounds like fun, captain. I'll go stow those powder barrels and get the cannons ready."

Watching Aileek walk away, Celaeno chuckled. "She's like a chick on her first raid. Yer a good man."

"Yeah, wish we didn't get stuck here, but now we are I can't leave her. Not now. She's fighting for her country, and that's something we know. So, let's work out what we're going to do here, because I want to make that girl smile more."





It shouldn't have come as a surprise how fast Celaeno's ship was compared to the other Storm King ships. By the time he'd reached the fight with their wallowing vessel, Blastback was grappling onto the opposite side of an already defeated Storm King ship from Celaeno's. 

"Yer a bit slow there." Celaeno was already cleaning up the deck—which consisted mostly of shoving the Storm King's troops overboard. "Maybe if we used you for the bait, we'd both be able to hit them at the same time?"

Landing on the deck with hooves he was finding surprisingly sturdy, Blastback looked around as Celaeno's sailors were making the airship ready for travel. "Any good—" He didn't get any further. Just as a sailor started to head down below, a huge Storm King armored brute launched itself from belowdecks with a pair of axes in its hands. "Firelight!"

Raising her rifle, Firelight lined up her shot as the hulk started marching toward the parrot. A moment before she squeezed her trigger a blood-red, dragon-winged pony figure rushed up from where the brute had come from, turned, and lashed out with its back hooves so hard that it launched the monster off the deck and over the side. "Commander?!"

"Hold your fire but be at the ready!" Turning only slightly so he could keep his eye on the newcomer, Blastback asked, "Captain, do you know them?"

"No clue." Celaeno too wasn't taking any chances. "You! What're you doing on this ship?"

Turning to face Celaeno and Blastback, the creature shook itself and ruffled its leathery wings. "We were kidnapped by the Storm King." Instead of walking toward the two, however, they started going back belowdecks. "There's others. Please help us."

When the strange pony walked back down the stairs, Blastback looked to Celaeno again, who shrugged. "What do you normally do in these situations?"

"If they don't want to join our crew, we let 'em off on land."

Walking over to the stairs, Blastback looked down. "Ah fuck." There was the familiar sight of a Storm King ship, but now there was five of the creatures coming back up. Closer, he could recognize iron collars around their necks and legs. "Here, do you need a hand getting up here?"

"We can all walk, just haven't been able to get the fetters off everypony yet."

"Is it magic resistant metal?" Blastback hated the situation, but he could recognize slaves when he could see them. They didn't look broken, though, for which he was thankful. He started walking down into the hold of the ship.

"Once I learn how to use magic, I'll tell you. Are you with the pirates?"

Reaching the first with chains on their legs, Blastback drew his wand and crouched. "Hold still and I'll test it." Creating the smallest flame he could, Blastback aimed his wand at a link of chain and then stopped it. Touching the link revealed it was hot. "Okay, I can get these off."

Waving his hand into a complicated pattern, Blastback cast an Unlocking charm that was followed by four clicks as the cuffs of the fetters let go. "Next."

When she reached the top of the stairs, Celaeno looked down and felt her bile rise at what she saw. "I could almost respect that bastard if he didn't trade slaves. You can get their fetters off?"

"Yeah." Zapping another of the strange ponies free, Blastback noticed what had been so strange about them—under the light coat of hair they had scales. "By the way, my name's Blastback."

"I'm Breeze Cutter. That's Storm Spear. When we saw the Storm King's ships coming, our village hid while we led them away. It worked, I guess, but…" Breeze looked at Blastback with a knowing expression. "It's hard to lead someone away and outrun them, if you catch my drift."

"Are you looking for a job?" Nodding to another of the ponies to come forward, Blastback prepared another spell.

"We'd rather just go home, but that's not going to be easy. We've been in this damn ship for two months." Breeze watched again in fascination at Blastback's magic popping the locks. "And I can only guess that we're in more populated skies now?"

The sentiment was one Blastback could appreciate. "Yeah, you're over the nation of Abyssinia—cat people. We're currently trying to take out as many of their airships as we can and then want to hook up with any defenders left."

"They're under attack by the Storm King?" It caused Breeze almost physical pain to hear that. Knowing what the Storm King did had unsettled him, but now that he knew they were doing it to others made him angry. "Let me talk to my people."

Freeing the last of the strange, scaled and dragon-winged ponies, Blastback stood up again and nodded. The hold of the ship was much like all the others they'd raided, but in this case he couldn't pilfer it for water, food, and fuel. When Breeze nodded to him, he walked over.

Breeze Cutter looked among his group. "Do you need any help? Fighting the Storm King, that is."

"It'd be appreciated. We're stuck here too, this world I mean. Some kind of portal dumped us here and we turned into horse-like people. I take it you were born like that?" Blastback nodded toward them.

"Well, you look more like ponies made of crystal, but I won't argue since you saved our butts here. We're longma." Breeze gestured around his group. "You know Storm Spear. This is Gale Stomp, Gust Diver, and Updraft Charge."

Now that he was able to get a better look at them, he could see that they all had the odd scales and dragon wings, but while Breeze had red scales and hair, Storm had blue, Gale had green, Gust had yellow, and Updraft was a smokey gray. "Well, if you don't mind beating the snot out of Storm King troops and stealing their ships, I think we can get along pretty good."

"What are you going to do with this ship?" Storm asked.

"We're working with the pirates to trade in a bunch of Storm King ships to get something a little faster. If you see their ship move compared to one of these, you'll probably have an idea why that's a good plan." Walking up the stairs, Blastback nodded to Celaeno. "Looks like I've got some more crew to round out our numbers."

"Ha! Good going. You might want to try to find yourself a flintlock or two if you can. Nasty pieces of work, but handy if you have a tight situation." Celaeno watched the strange ponies walk past. "Maybe a deck gun too, though you'll want to find someone who knows how to operate the things."

Blastback was about to tell her they didn't need one when it hit him that they did. Flintlocks too. Their guns were far more effective, but they had limited ammunition. "Any idea where we could get them?"

"Yeah, that's the hard part. There're some around, but since they cost so much it's not these scum"—Celaeno stomped the deck with her peg-leg—"that have them. You'll need to find rich folk or the Storm King's higher-ups." Raising her hand, she gestured to the stairs and whistled. "Come on, ya dogs, get this hunk o' junk ready for sailin'. First prize crew, yer up!"

"Commander?" Firelight asked as Blastback approached. "What's the sitrep?"

"We've got five more crew members. They're a long way from home too. See if any of you can remove the collars without hurting them." Vaulting between the ships, Blastback noticed the newcomers used their wings to give a flap and gain some lift to get over the gap. "Aileek! We need some ideas on guns. Flintlocks and a deck gun or two would be good."

"Captain!" The shout came from the deck of Celaeno's ship. "Another two Storm King whales off the port bow!"

"Cast off lines! Get the wings out! Come on, lads, we've got more to hunt!" Taking off at a dead run, Celaeno looked across the deck at Blastback's crew, seeing them springing to action too. "Do what you have to to get yours, Blastback, we'll pick the crew off the other one's deck!"

"I can help. You want them cleared off the deck of their ship, right, but you want the ship?" Storm Spear looked up at Blastback, her wings itching with excitement. "I can do that."

With his own crew (Blastback made a mental note to call them crew now, since it wasn't just his squad) already following Celaeno's commands, Blastback looked down at the blue-scaled pony. "Just don't set it on fire or put yourself in danger and you can try whatever you want. They're not gonna be trying to get away."

Running belowdecks, Aileek rushed to the gundeck and her waiting artillery. "He might not want them damaged, but that doesn't mean I can't use my new trick." She started to load a primer, powder, and a wad of cloth into the gun, then she pulled over a keg of sand.

On deck, Storm Spear and Breeze Cutter marched up to the front of the forecastle and stood with the wind in their face. Breeze turned to his love and told her, "You don't have to do this. I know you don't like—"

"I said I would. These creatures are fighting our enemy. I don't like killing, but it will be for the best." Steeling herself, Storm Spear leaned over the railing so her neck and head were exposed.

"Stand back! Let her have some room." Breeze felt sadness that his wife would have to use her power, but he was also charged with pride that she would do it anyway. Looking from their target ship to the one the pirates had engaged, he was surprised to see that the pirate ship had swung behind the Storm King ship and had grappled onto it already. 

Storm knew her range. She also knew that she only had to hit the first target to get her ability to affect the whole ship. Despite how dangerous this was, she felt alive all the more for being about to use it. As the other ship drew closer, she opened her mouth and took a deep breath.

The sky lit with a white-blue flash that stung Blastback's eyes. Rubbing his face to try to rid it of the afterimage of lightning shooting between their ships, he saw exactly what Storm Spear had done. "Fuck…"

There was a burning smell of ozone washing over the wizards' ship as it followed the path of the lightning bolt to the now stalled ship. As they drew alongside the Storm King's ship, they saw that every creature that'd been on deck was slumped. The few shock troops in armor were still fizzling and arcing. 

"Don't touch any metal yet! Let me short them out!" This was the hardest part for Storm. She flapped her way over to the other ship and landed on the deck with a thud of all four hooves. Still able to feel the potential of her breath scattered around, she walked from one smoking, armored body to the next, tapping them with her hoof to discharge the still-deadly jolts. 

Walking up to the side of the ship, Blastback stared at the corpses on the other ship. The brief but intense arcs as Storm shorted out the metal still stung his eyes a little. "Next time you do this, how about a little warning just before you do it?" When he saw Storm turn and look back at him, he knew there might not be a next time. There was agony written large on her face. 

They lashed up against the ship and started the grisly task of pitching the corpses overboard. As he hauled one of the brutes over, Blastback was acutely aware of the smell that came from them—they'd been cooked. "Can the rest of you do this?" he asked the other longma.

"It depends on our coloring," Breeze said. "Red, like me, make fire. I figured you didn't want me to burn this whole thing. Blue is lightning, green is poison, yellow is rot." 

Gust Diver said, "Our breaths wouldn't have been any better than fire. My rot breath works just as well on wood and metal as the living, and Gale's poison would soak into the timber and rope." She shrugged her shoulders.

"What about you?" Blastback asked, looking at Updraft Charge.

Lifting her head and looking up at Blastback, Updraft grinned at the wizard. "My breath is your worst nightmare. It destroys magic."

"How in blazes did they even catch you with these kinds of magic powers?" Working opposite Liz Harrington, Blastback strained to haul another body over the railing.

"That's the thing." Gust helped Updraft pull another of the brutes to the side of the railing for Liz and Blastback to haul over the side. "It's not magic. Not magic like others have, anyway. We were so tired and worn out by the time they got to us, we couldn't even so much as spit out any of our breaths."

"Also," Updraft said, "in case you didn't notice, Storm really doesn't like using her breath. She has to snuff the energy out of each body after she's done, and there's no just hurt 'em a bit setting."

"Well, all of ours don't have a hurt them a bit setting." Breeze had piled-in as well and was hauling bodies with his wing-claws. "And Updraft doesn't have a way to actually hurt critters—unless they're magical themselves."

"So you bided your time in their ship? Planning an escape?" Liz asked.

"That was the plan. They chained us up too close, though. If any of us had used our breath, it would have hit each other before hitting any Storm King thugs. They also kept our rations short so we wouldn't be able to use them." Breeze worked too, but paused when Storm walked over and pressed her face into the ruff of hair at his neck. Stretching a wing around Storm's back, he hugged her close. "It's why we gave you a share of our rations. Your breath ins amazing."

"Ma'am, thank you for what you did." Blastback made a point of looking at Storm. "I know it's not easy, but I need to ask if you'd be willing to do that again in the future."

Turning her head, Storm looked up at Blastback with tear-stained eyes. "You're a solider?" When he nodded, albeit with reluctance, she continued. "Do you ever get used to killing?"

"No. It still hurts to see someone die. It's what makes us hu—It's what makes us who we are. If you got used to killing, you'd become a monster. I only kill when I know it is required to protect others." 

Letting out a sob that had been fighting to get free, Storm nodded. "You saved us. You didn't have to, but you did. I want to help, but I don't want to get used to it."

Turning his head, Blastback shouted, "Aileek! Get your butt over here!"

Covered in grime from preparing the cannons for a fight that didn't happen, Aileek made her way across to the other ship and over to Blastback. "Yeah?"

"Storm, this is Aileek. This is who I'm fighting for. She's a princess of the land below us, and what we're doing is trying to clear the skies of Storm King ships so that her people can be safe and not be enslaved." The words were as much from the heart as Blastback could make them. Aileek's course was nothing if not a just one. "Maybe she can be why you fight, too?"

Looking up at Aileek, Storm reached forward with her wing and rubbed at her eyes to dry them. "Y-You're a princess?"

"My father has a lot of daughters, but I am one of them. I can't say how thankful I am for you helping with this ship. If you don't want to—" Aileek cut her little speech short as Storm bent her forelegs and kneeled before her. Almost hypnotized, she drew the long sword she'd stolen from her cousin and raised it with the blade flat, and rested it on Storm's shoulder. "By my word, you are a knight of Abyssinia. Our honor is your honor and your blood is our blood." She'd made it all up on the spot, but it sounded like it fit well enough.

Once the blade had tapped both her shoulders, Storm stood up. It was easier to breathe and think now. Easier to reason that her breath came at the command of the brave woman before her. "I fight at your command, Your Highness."

The soldiers from Earth had been one thing—they didn't exactly follow her orders but her wishes—but this was something else. Aileek shivered a little. "Right now we have to liberate as many ships as we can to secure something faster. You can—Your job is to assist in that. First, we need to find a way to ground your lightning without you needing to do it for each target."

Storm found herself smiling—really smiling—to find that these strange creatures cared for her. She nodded to Aileek and looked over to her husband. He was dragging the last of the Storm King's people over the side. When he was done, she walked over to him and hugged him.

"I heard what you said and saw all that. I'll stay by your side always, Stormy." Breeze returned the hug and looked over Storm's shoulder at Aileek. "I guess we just became your artillery squad."





They'd been a two ship wolfpack. The wizards playing the part of stranded ship while the pirates would swoop in and assist when multiple ships fell for the bait. They were in the middle of such a two-ship tackle when the lookout on Celaeno's ship called out a warning.

"Five ships to the south—closing fast!"

Storm Spear heard the cry and looked to her husband. "Breezie, I think they're going to need your help."

Flashing his fangs at his wife, Breeze Cutter rolled his shoulders and looked to Aileek. "Ma'am, where do you want me?" Like his wife, he preferred being told to use his breath and place the burden of choosing on Aileek's shoulders. 

Aileek nodded and looked around until she could spot the ships on the horizon. "Stern. We'll be needing to outrun—"

"Five more to the north! West and east too! We're in a trap!"

The shout froze everyone on both ships, but none more than Celaeno. She'd grown to like the wizards and longma—she'd spent more than a few nights drinking with both groups—which was why she was trying to think how to fight their way out rather than run. Running would mean leaving ships behind, and she was pirate enough that she didn't ever leave a treasure. 

As her plan came together, Celaeno opened her beak. "Breeze, Storm, on my ship! Gale and Gust, I want you both painting the sky with your breath! Blastback, ditch these ships and run like a spanked monkey to the south with the clouds of rot and poison covering your ass! Crews! Let's haul out of here!"

"Prize crews?" Pinwheel asked, reaching up to slick back her crest.

"If you can get someone belowdecks on the guns as fast as you can, sure." Celaeno turned to her ship. "Prize crews! Both of ya get together under Pinwheel and get one of these hunks of shit moving! Load yer guns and make 'em howl!"

Squawking in excitement, Pinwheel started shouting to get her prize crew on board and get all ships cast off. She might not be a captain for all that long, but it was a step up in the world. In her mind, she was already working out how to position the ship to deliver the most cannon rounds into the Storm King's vessels.

Blastback could have had his ship move a bit faster than Pinwheel's captured vessel, mostly because he had extra fuel to burn, but that would leave the other vessel alone. Keeping side-by-side with them, he watched as Celaeno's ship rushed past—moving like the wind itself. "Gale! Dust! Cover our ass with clouds!"

Celaeno spared a glance behind them at the expanding green/yellow clouds that made her feathers itch just to think about. "Lix! Take us into a hard dive into that formation ahead." With a spring in her step, Celaeno marched down from the aftcastle toward Storm and Breeze. "I don't rightly care what you do to them, but how many of those ships can you demolish?"

Looking at the ships they were aimed at, Breeze smirked. "I could take them all down. It will—"

"I can get some too." Storm stuck her tongue out at her husband. "Just get us closer and I can see about lighting them up like candles."

"Both of us can." Breeze kissed Storm on the cheek. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Then give it all you've got and let's see how many we can take out for yer princess." Walking to the bow of her ship, Celaeno looked up to see the two huge wings at the front of her balloon were out—not that she needed to see them to know how fast the air was rushing past her. "Prepare all the cannons, Squabble! Both sides! Give 'em everything we've got as soon as you see targets!"

Getting closer and closer to the south-end of the blockade, Blastback watched as the other ships of the Storm King swept in toward their flanks. One made the mistake of plowing toward a yellow cloud. "Gale! Gust! Up here!" He was relieved that the two turned toward him before the ship met the yellow cloud. 

In the distance an entire ship rotted, crew and all, and over the cries of the living was the scream of metal, wood, and rope as they were eaten away. The balloon was pierced by a large plank of the deck straining under a twisting force, and as if it were a signal the whole ship broke in half and plummeted to the ground below.

"Captain?" Gust asked, her voice betraying her thanks for the distraction.

"Both of you get belowdecks and help Aileek with the guns." As he spoke, Blastback saw another ship veer away from the yellow cloud only to get swallowed by a green one. Two out of twenty was a good start, and it was two of the closest ships on their flank, but Blastback knew they weren't out of the weeds yet. "Bring us as close to the other ship as we can get, Liz!"

Watching as Celaeno's ship plowed down into the Storm King's ships' position sent a shiver up Blastback's spine. From the prow of the ship lightning and flame erupted just as they threaded the proverbial needle.

There was different rules at play here. Normally Celaeno would be trying to liberate her targets of their cargo, so she'd normally never target a ship's balloon—but this was one of the times she didn't just want to, she'd ordered it. "FIRE!"

White-hot grapeshot sprayed out from the cannons on both sides of the ship. Of the five ships, one was on fire, one had its entire crew killed by lightning, one was plummeting with a completely popped balloon, while the other two were circling out of Celaeno's line of fire and drawing up to broadside the oncoming blockade runners.

"Up! Pitch us up to go between their balloons!" Blastback raised his voice enough that the other ship heard as well, and he heard Pinwheel mirror his shout. "Lay on the speed! We'll take the brunt of it and broadside their balloons!"

But they were a little slow at gaining altitude. The two Storm King ships—pitching their cannons up to sight Blastback's ship—cut loose with a deafening raport of guns. The underside of the ship bore the brunt of the blasts, but one ball connected with a weak spot in the underside and then broke joyfully through each successive deck until it shot free.

Taking with it Blastback Davies left leg.

Shattering bone and ruined muscles screamed in Blastback's head. The world spun around him, and a moment before he fell over a strong body was under his left hand.

"Sir, you lost your fuckin' leg!" Daku was staring at the shattered white bone that hung from Blastback's stump. There was blood pouring out onto the deck as their own guns shouted a reply. Lacking hands, Daku reached to the saddlebag on his left and shoved his snout into it.

The wavering edges of darkness and fire threatened to close in around Blastback. He was shouting something—something about laying on the speed now that they were out of the blockade. Then a cold rush of ice shoved back at the fire and a tight squeeze on his leg pushed back the darkness. "What in the fucking hell was that?!"

"Hey, boss, look at my eyes." Daku tried to keep Blastback's attention away from his shattered leg. "That was a cannonball, mate. You know what I mean?" He waited for Blastback to nod before shouting, "Defthands! Get your fuzzy ass over here!"

Firelight heard the shouting and noticed Blastback's condition. She slung her rifle around to her back just as she saw a volley of cannonballs rip through the ship that Pinwheel was flying. "Daku! Help!"

Levitation was an easy spell, but it was less effective on larger objects. As fast as Firelight could cast them, the ship's mass was countering them—ripping the spell apart in the process. When Daku arrived at her side and started using his magic to lift it, she instead adjusted her pattern so that she was channeling magic into him. 

"The other ship!" Gale shouted. "Gust! Updraft! We need to help get them off it!"

Relief flooded Daku when he saw the three longma launch themselves to the other ship. It might have been more of a relief if they didn't add to the weight of it when they landed. "It's pulling at my magic constantly to do this. You keeping up, Fire?"

"I got your back, Dak. Does it feel like your magic is getting ripped out inch by inch?" Firelight wasn't using hyperbole. "June! Give us a fuckin' hand!"

Turning to look at Firelight, Junebug rushed over—only peripherally seeing that Aileek was on the helm. "Channeling?" Seeing an emphatic nod, Junebug dropped to all fours—her hoof-hands taking her weight easily—and lowered her horn at Daku. "Take anything you need."

Daku had thought to take only the normal amount of magic he knew Junebug capable of channeling, what he got instead was a hurricane of magic that almost knocked him senseless. Junebug's horn was glowing bright orange—and she looked as surprised as he felt. 

Grabbing up one of the parrots each, the longma flew them back to their own ship and quickly wheeled about to return for more. During their next return flight, Updraft stole a look at the three partially-pony creatures that seemed to be holding an entire ship aloft. "We have two more after this trip!"

"You two grab them. I'll try to deal with the last two ships." When it came to the last run, Gust Diver flew with Gale and Updraft and made sure they grabbed and headed back with the last of the parrots. When she lined up on one of the Storm King ships, she was shocked to find the ship they'd just evacuated fly past him toward it. "By the wind!"

Banking to the side as the ship with the damaged balloon crashed into and through the Storm King's ship, Gust aimed herself at the second one and breathed out—summoning as much of her rot as she could.

When the ribbing over the ship's balloon started to rust into a deep brown and yellow, they began to creak and fail. Each one that rusted away put more load on the remaining ones, and with a series of pinging snaps the last cables let go. The balloon shot up into the air while the ship dropped like a stone.

Blastback knew nothing of what his squad and crew were doing. Defthands had started using healing magic on his leg, and as he well knew—healing magic was not painless magic. He had no compunctions about screaming in pain, particularly when it felt like Defthands was squeezing on his broken leg.

Walking past Blastback and Defthands, Pinwheel walked up to the tiller. "I can take that, lass. Get back below and ready the guns—we might have more shooting ahead of us." Narrowing her eyes, she looked about the sky. "Ace! Get up the rigging! I need eyes on targets! Brutus, triage this flying wreck and let's find a way out of here!"

By the time Aileek got belowdecks and found her cannons, she also found the hole that let her see the ground below them. 

"Need a hand with them guns?" Marco was only a second-mate gunner, but he knew his way around Storm King weapons. "What you got loaded?"

Bracing her feet as the ship tilted and banked hard, Aileek pointed to the two fore guns (one on each side). "Grapeshot in those, solid balls in the rear." She caught Marco's nod. "I'm Aileek."

"Marco. Okay, princess, let's work out which side we're going to—"

"Port guns! We have a target to port!" a shout came from on deck.

"… there's a better plan. Okay, I'll take the grape, you take the direct shot. Forget rudder, aim for aftcastle on 'em or, failin' that, hit the balloon." Marco walked up to the forward port gun and started checking it. He was just turning to see if Aileek was ready when she fired her cannon. 

Sighting down the smoking gun, Aileek watched as the aftcastle of the target exploded into a mess of timber. "Another target, captain!" she shouted.

Freed of their need to keep an entire second ship in the air, Junebug, Daku, and Firelight made their way to check on Blastback. Defthands had just drawn back from his patient and reached a hoof up to rub his forehead. 

"How is he?" Firelight asked.

"Wherever his leg is, it's fucked. The bone is shattered all the way just past his kneecap. I got all the bone shards out, got him a bone-mending tonic, and he'll live. It's sealed over now. Nice bit of emergency work there, Daku—saved his life." Finishing up his spells, Defthands straightened up and stood upright. "The main artery was gushing. Freezing it was perfect."

"Yeah, mate. I actually paid attention in that first aid class, eh?" Daku breathed a sigh of relief. Healing of any kind was well outside his specialty, but knowing what he'd done had saved his commander's (a man he considered a friend) life made him appreciate what little he did know. "Can you, uh, regrow his leg?"

"Not a hope in hell. I know healing magic, not rebuild lost limbs and put a man back together magic. Best we can do is get him a good prosthetic and bide our time until we get home. Until then," Defthands said, "we probably want to get him down below and help our current captain get us somewhere safe."

The raport of guns got the attention of everyone on deck (except Blastback). From above them came the cry, "Cap'n Celaeno to the west and up! Look at her fly!"





Blastback woke slowly. He was laying in a hammock and swinging slowly with the natural sway of the ship. This wasn't normal. He usually slept in the captain's quarters in an actual bed. Then his memory started filling in the blanks for him.

Fighting beside Celaeono. Finding the longma. Almost getting done with the contract. 

Getting ambushed by a fleet of warships. 

Losing his leg to a cannonball.

He managed to laugh for several minutes at how insane it was that he'd lose his leg to a cannonball while working as a privateer in another world. When the laughter stopped, however, Blastback had to contend with the reality that he'd lost most of one leg. 

Sitting up a little and lifting his legs, he swung sideways out of the hammock and landed his one good leg on the deck with a clop of his hoof. Just one clop. Holding onto one of the posts his hammock was hanging from, Blastback reached down his leg and felt where it ended.

It didn't hurt. There was nothing tender there, but he could feel the flesh was folded over and melded together to form a stump. It took him a few seconds to realize the humor again. He was laughing so much that a head poked into the sleeping quarters to see what the noise was. "Hey, Junebug!"

"Hey, boss, how're you feeling?" Regretting asking it right away, Junebug was nonetheless surprised to find Blastback grinning like a fool. "You okay?"

"No, you fuckwit, I had some big hairy yeti shoot my leg off with a cannon. Now—now—I need to find myself a good bit of wood to use as a pegleg." Blastback reached out and put his arm over Junebug's back. "I'll be a proper pirate. Guess I need to get a bird to sit on me shoulder too, yarr!"

"Keep working on it, boss. Let's get you topside. Pinwheel took over when the shit hit the fan. When we started hauling ass to get out of there, Celaeno was pulling off some crazy shit in her ship—flying it sideways and shooting down at ships." Guiding the way to the door, Junebug shouldered Blastback's weight on every second step.

"What are we doing, June? Here, I mean. It started off like actual work, guarding a VIP, but now we're—"

"Still guarding her. Taking her word that the people of this land need our help. There's no way home, I feel that in my bones. I'm not one of those tea-leaf-watchers, but I know what I feel."

"So Aileek is our key to salvation?" Blastback tried not to lean on Junebug too much, but it wasn't like he had two legs to stand on. 

"Nah. She's our key to not being caught and hung by the people we're trying to help. The question is do we stay helping them after we kick this Storm King's butt out of here?" Reaching the door, Junebug guided Blastback out and to the stairs leading to the deck.

"We need to discuss that. I don't think I can make that kinda decision for all of us." At the top of the stairs, Blastback squinted against the morning light that threatened to blind him. "Where are we? How long was I out?"

Spotting Blastback awake, Pinwheel felt both relief and a sense of loss, but the latter didn't stop her from shouting, "Look lively! Captain on deck!" She marched over to him and ignored the staring. "Sir! Hope you don't mind, but I took care of this mess while you were taking a nap."

Laughing, Blastback looked around the deck to find the crews of both ships seemed to be getting along fine. Firelight was at the helm, the rest of his crew seemed to be practicing sword-fighting, and the longma sat up on the forecastle together talking about something. That's when he realized all five of them were there. "Celaeno made it out too?"

"Ha! Cap'n Celaeno took out nearly half their fleet. The only reason she left 'em be was she'd run out of shot and Breeze Cutter'd fallen over from burning ships. We're about half a day out from Lorikalia." Pinwheel always felt a chill of excitement when it came to her home port. "You'll want to talk to the cap'n—cap'n Celaeno that is—about what our plans are now."

"She's made plans?" Bracing against the aftcastle wall, Blastback let Junebug have a break.

Pinwheel eyed Blastback up and down, and for a moment she considered her chances with him. "Cap'n's always making plans, sir. Sorry about callin' the cap'n cap'n, force of habit. Anyway, she'll get some ideas that'll be amazing, you'll see."

With no reason to think otherwise, Blastback accepted that Celaeno would have at least interesting plans. He stood on deck as their ship followed Celaeno's into the dock that hung down from the tree-city of Lorikalia.

Stumbling down the gangplank, Blastback spotted Celaeno on the dock. He saw her eyes widen a little at his condition. "I hear we have you to thank for getting away?"

"I was born to fly free. What the feathers happened to you?" Struggling a little to walk straight on the rigid decking of the dock, Celaeno crouched down and took at look at Blastback's leg. "You know, if you wanted to emulate the best captain in the skies, you didn't need to get things this accurate."

"If I didn't, you'd never keep up with me." Hooking his arm around Celaeno's shoulders and leaned on her for support. "So, what now?"

"We go to the Leaky Tap and get ourselves a drink and sit down until this damn land stops swaying on me." Celaeno supported Blastback and led the way to the dock's tavern. While a few members of crew remained aboard their ships, the majority came with them and invaded the tavern.

Seated, with a mug of something that hurt going down, Blastback finally found a moment to relax. "Do we have enough ships for a deal or do we have to go out hunting again?"

"I've been thinking on that, and I have an idea. Another clipper like my Pandemonium would be great, but they take a lot of work to build." Picking up her mug, Celaeno tipped it back and let the horrible, burning rum pour down her gullet. "But I've got a better idea. Yeah, fast ships can do some amazing stuff, but what if we had a frigate."

"Frigates and clippers are a bit different where we come from." It was an effort to have things explained to him. Blastback trusted Celaeno a bit better after her heroic covering of his ass as he got out of the trap, but he wanted to go into every situation knowing the basics.

"Clipper, single balloon, using speed instead of armor. The Storm King's ships are like a clipper, but then they go and use a crappy design that's slower, and build an oversize cargo hold. What I'm thinking is a frigate—cut two of the Storm King's ships in half, add a midsection that's about as long as one of them entirely, and wrap the hull in that metal they love so much. Toss in about ten cannons per side and you'd have yourself quite the ship." 

"A warship, then. Will the armor be enough to deflect cannonballs? You said single balloon, it would have two?" Blastback winced at another mouthful of the alcohol. "Do they serve ale here?"

"They do, but you don't want to drink it. The stuff will have things swimming in it. At least with this you know anything in it is dead." Tapping her mug, she looked into the depths and shuddered at actually seeing the things that were dead. "It should—"

"Why don't we forget their metal and use our own steel? We can bespell it then—maybe even build some self-repairing charms into it." At seeing Celaeno's look of surprise, Blastback shrugged. "You want some of that for your ship, huh?"

"How's it work? Magic is—With the Storm King's ships, it's not as useful as it used to be. Defensively, though, I could get some use from it."

Screwing up his face a moment, Blastback picked up his mug (still half full) and drained it completely. "There's two ways to cast it. You can sink it into something and have it trigger, or you can cast it after the fact. The first is better because you don't have to worry about it when things are hairy." Drawing his wand, he aimed it at the mug and warped the Mending charm so that it would keep working so long as there was magic it could use and the item was damaged.

Lifting the mug up, Blastback brought it down on the table and smashed it into all the pieces of wood that made it up—its barrel-like construction meant there were a lot. Before they could even stop moving, a blue glow wrapped around the wood and metal of the mug and started pulling it all back together until it was again whole.

"You can cast that on a whole ship, then?" Celaeno asked.

"Not all at once. I mean, we could if we were just casting it after the damage, but casting it on a ship to trigger later would have it trigger whenever you work a rope tighter on the balloon. That's why we cast it on individual parts. The hull doesn't change, so we could make it work on all that. Then there's the rudder—having that self-repair would be nice. But if we're going to be wearing armor, that armor should be its own casting." The rum, Blastback realized, was strong enough that gulping it all down made him relax despite his focus on the conversation.

"Right. So we'd have a frigate than can stand toe-to-toe with the best the Storm King can throw at it and come out without a scratch. My ship can run scout and tackle. I'll have to lend you crew to run such a monster, but I think we're both comfortable enough with each other to do that." Not to be outdone, Celaeno drained her mug and thumped it on the table to get a waitress' attention.

"Aileek!" Blastback looked toward the bulk of the room and watched as she came over to their table. "What would you say is the strongest, most defensible location in Abyssinia?"

"Royal palace. Without a doubt. It will still be standing, but who knows how long with all these fucking Storm King ships." Her time spent with a group of Australians was starting to rub off on her speech more than Aileek had realized.

"So, we get this new ship, we sail on in and smash through whatever they can put in front of us, and ask your…" Looking up at Aileek, Blastback raised an eyebrow.

"Father—the King."

Smiling and nodding, Blastback continued. "We ask your father if he's willing to sign off on us being privateers."

It was a reminder that, despite her position and power, Aileek wasn't the ruler. She sighed aloud and nodded. "You have a problem, though."

"Yeah we do," Celaeno said. "I'm not exactly a welcome friend in Abyssinia, if you know what I mean? Pirates and merchants are not usually on good terms."

"They don't have the choice to pick their allies. We fly in there under a peace flag and make the offer. They'll be able to see how effective we are by the hole we rip on the way in." Reaching for the replacement mug, Blastback brought it to his lips and sipped at more of the horrible rum. "This tastes better on the second round."

"I'm fairly sure it holds your tastebuds hostage and won't surrender until you're sober again. Okay, let's take this plan on and see how it flies." Celaeno held up her mug to Blastback. "To allies, to fighting, and to bringing home enough treasure to live like a queen!"

It was a toast Blastback could salute to only because the person he wanted to live like a queen was Aileek.





Light was the enemy. Blastback tried to lever himself from the bed and reach the curtains to close them, but an arm wrapped around him and dragged him back. His mind spun as he tried to work out who it was before looking.

Celaeno didn't open her eyes. Opening eyes with the kind of hangover she had would be bad. Open eyes led to rooms spinning and rooms spinning led to her finding the jacks very fast or making a fool of herself. "Get back here."

It might not have been smart, but he wasn't exactly keeping chaste for anyone, so Blastback slumped back on the bed and let Celaeno pull his back against her chest. He didn't move and she didn't seem inclined to either, which meant Blastback could try to remember a bit about the previous night.

More drinking, more cheering, and even some dancing (despite having one leg). Then the dancing had turned horizontal. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to imagine the dragon screaming in his head was slowly getting quieter.

Not having been counting, Celaeno figured a few hours had passed. "We're goin' down the shipyards to talk about building this frigate, then we're going to see someone about yer leg."

"I'm guessing there's no one here who could grow a new one for me?" As he spoke, Blastback ran a hand down to Celaeno's leg, rubbing the feathers around her thigh.

Celaeno laughed. "Yeah, I'd have my own back if we could do that. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

"Yeah. I've been getting used to a lot since coming here."

"Well, sounds like an adventure. Why don't you tell me about it since we're not going anywhere fast."

Blastback took a deep breath and let it out. The way Celaeno was hugged to his back felt nice—spooning, he knew it was called, but he'd never been in this position before. "If you can believe it, I've been a police officer for nearly 40 years…"





Liz Harrington was sitting in the bar, having drawn short straw to wait on Blastback to come out. Beside her was Jack Crowley—they were both sipping water from glasses they'd brought with them. The bartender didn't look apologetic in the least. "Almost 10. Do I even want to know what he's up to?"

"They're up to. And, no." Pulling out his precious pack of cigarettes, Jack tapped the top which triggered the spell wrapped around them. The 29 cigarettes inside became 30, and Jack pulled one out to set it between his lips. "You leave any family behind, Liz?"

"Just my dog. I hope my brother found him." That's when it clicked for Liz. "Yeah, right. Brother and Dad. No one else." They'd been stuck a little over a month, but had never had the chance to just talk. Talking, when you were sailing, always seemed to get interrupted—whether by another ship or a crewmate.

Snapping his fingers, Jack produced a little flame and used it to light his cigarette. "I'm never going to see my wife again. I don't know it-know it—but I know it. She'd be kicking me arse if she knew I was smoking again."

Liz reached a hand out and put her hand on Jack's free hoof. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"You know, she always told me how—how proud she was of me. Fuck." Jack wanted to cry. He wanted to bawl his eyes out, but that wasn't how he'd been raised. Bringing the cigarette back to his lips, he inhaled and relaxed with the coffin nail hanging from one corner of his mouth.

The sound of one foot, a hoof, and a peg-leg coming down the stairs pulled Liz's attention away from Jack. She looked and saw Blastback leaning on Celaeno's shoulder, but it was the comfortable way they moved together that told her the rumors were true—even if just seeing them both come down together wasn't already enough. "Morning, captains."

For a moment Blastback wondered if there would be any stink kicked up among his crew from this. He had been shifting his viewpoint a lot lately—just being the fish-out-of-water tactical wizarding police wasn't good enough anymore—and he felt that actually being a ship crew might be the best way forward. "Morning. How're the ships? Crews?"

Doing his best to shove aside his pain, Jack gulped down the water in his glass and slid off his stool to turn to Blastback. He knew the man was roughly the same age as him, but that didn't matter. He'd seen how competently Blastback had handled himself and his team. "From what I remember, you weren't the only two to wind up in the same bunk. Moral's high because we all lived. Orders?"

"Relax. We're going to talk to a bird about a boat. Try to get the hole fixed and see about having everyone awake by midday at the latest."





Leaving the tavern, Blastback noticed that there was a group of well-armed people at the end of the dock (where it merged into the tree city). "Welcoming party?"

"They're here officially. I need to vouch for you." Celaeno, after a night spent off her ship, was walking far easier—even with someone leaning on her every second step. As they approached the welcoming committee, she raised a hand at them. "Yeah, yeah. I vouch for 'im."

"Just bein' careful, ma'am."

"That's why Lorikalia is still free an' all. We're just going to see the shipwrights." Not even slowing, Celaeno led Blastback past the three parrots. "Probably get him a leg while we're down that way. You seen Storm King's ships buzzing around?"

"Seen. Destroyed," one of the parrots said. "That where ya lost ya leg? Fightin' Storm King?"

"Yeah," Blastback said.

"Hope ya nailed a few, then. His kind don't deserve the sky." The parrot spat on the ground gave Blastback a nod.

When they were well past the parrot guards, Blastback looked to Celaeno. "Who were they?"

"The guards of Lorikalia. It's a free city, but kinda careful about who it lets in. Ya need someone to vouch for you, and once you understand what the rules are—and can prove you can keep your beak clean—you are considered a citizen." 

"Sounds smart. Citizenry based on deeds and honor." Blastback had to stop his hobbling as Celaeno froze in place and started laughing. "What?"

"Honor. I've never heard it called that, and I doubt anyone outside of Lorikalia would think this place is honorable, but I guess it could be considered that. Down this way is the shipyards. We might be able to salvage some of the hulls of the ships we captured, but any ship we have built is going to need a single, solid keel." Moving again, Celaeno moved in the direction of the shipyards.





It took some haggling, but Blastback and Celaeno had finally made a deal with the old parrot who ran the shipyards. Of the eleven Storm King ships they'd brought in (excluding the one Blastback had originally stolen), the shipyards would take ten of them—the last would be Blastback and his crew's buy-in on Lorikalia citizenship.

"There're six parrots of Lorikalia who are charged with making deals for citizenship. Master Squab is one. She'll happily take that ship as your buy-in. If you ever break the law, however, you'll be out on your ass minus that ship." Celaeno shrugged her shoulders. "To be honest, if you manage to break them, you deserve it."

Standing propped up against a wall, Blastback nodded and couldn't keep back a smirk. "Okay, now we need to get a rotation organized to be down here to cast the spells as they build the ship. Oh, what are the rules for Lorikalia?"

"No killing, no stealin', no buying or selling, no slaves, no assaulting whores or children, obey the rule of the council, and if you get called up to serve on the council—ya have to serve. Natural-born get three strikes once they come of age, those who buy-in get one."

"There's a new one, Celaeno," Squab said as she walked back into the room. "No 'elping the Storm King."

"No chance of that," Blastback said, "nor any of the others. My crew"—the moment he said it, Blastback realized it was the first time he truly thought of his squad, Aileek, and the longma as his crew—"have been stirring things up for the Storm King, as you can see."

"Part of why I'm stickin' my neck out for ya." Gesturing at the quick sketch she'd made, Squab curled her beak up into a grin. "And this'll have ya taking out a lot more. Ten cannon down each side? Ya gonna need more crew—though you'll have the room to carry 'em."

"There's another thing. We're going to need to have some of my crew helping." When Blastback saw Squab glare at him, he held out a hand trying to placate her. "Not doing any of your work, making it better."

"You should see it, Squab, they got magic that can make a ship repair itself from splinters and shattered steel. This"—Celaeno gestured at the design too—"will be impossible for them to take out with cannons."

Squinting at Blastback, Squab grabbed herself a thick plank from a pile of off-cuts she used to teach apprentices their craft. "Do this, then. I want to see it."

Feeling as charged with magic as ever, Blastback drew his wand and tapped the wood. It took more magic to enchant than the mug had, but he wanted to leave a good impression on the shipbuilder. "There."

"No light? Not wispy flames? No songs?" Glaring at the wood, Squab set one end against the edge of her worktable, held the other with one hand, and drove her fist through the thick spar. As soon as she pulled her fist back, the splinters jumped toward the off-cut and the two broken pieces joined back together. "Well, fuck me."

"I'd like to do that for every part of the ship," Blastback said.

"Tell ya what, ya do it for another ship I'm workin' on, and I'll marry ya."

"Back off you old witch," Celaeno laughed as she poked Squab in the chest.

Squab tilted her head to the side a little. "Ya married 'em?"

"No, she hasn't, and I'm not in the market—but with how much you've helped, I'll see about getting that other ship enchanted." It was an easy promise to make. Such a ship would be easy for him and his crew to disenchant if they ever faced it, but would be practically impossible to take down for any other ship.

"If whatever war you're getting yourselves into ends up with you still standing, haul ass back here and I'll have work for you and your crew." It wasn't her own desire to build wealth that made Squab so predatorial, it was securing Lorikalia an invincible navy that had her ready to offer the strange pony and his crew damn near anything.

Blastback instantly thought of Liz and Jack. "I'll remember that, particularly if any of them want out at some point." 

"You know, Squab, that's a pretty big favor for not a lot of return promise. He's gonna make your ship almost invincible." Tapping her hip where her flintlock sat, Celaeno smirked at the old parrot. "I know you have a cache of guns. He needs one."

"Fuck you, Celaeno. He was happy to do it for nothin'." As she said it, however, Squab reached under her table and then to a sling built against the underside. "Though it's a fair deal for what ya doing."

As the parrot drew the old-style pistol, Blastback noticed that it was cocked and ready to fire, and had a little strip of leather covering the mechanism. It didn't take a genius to know it was worse than his pistol and wouldn't hold a candle to his rifle, but it also didn't need fancy ammo to fire. "When the ship's done"—he nodded to the flintlock—"and not a second sooner, ma'am."

Squinting, Squab smirked. "You sure about not being open to marriage?"

Laughing, Blastback had to admit to himself that the parrots were each a different flavor of humorous, but all of them were intense. "I gotta live through this first, but you're second on the list."

Celaeno's eyes widened a moment and she felt a rush of excitement. She'd met few men who were as commanding and forward as Blastback, and now he'd just cooked up a possible contest—even if it was half a joke. "Come on. Gotta get your leg fixed before you promise to marry every damn parrot in Lorikalia."

Hopping over to Celaeno, Blastback leaned on her shoulder again and they started off with an almost comfortable return to their earlier gait.

"Were you serious at all back there?" Celaeno asked.

"The marriage thing? Not exactly. I'm not as young as I might look, and while I won't say I haven't had my fair share of loves, none have gone that far." None had been with any woman who could match him mentally and physically—possibly even best him—though Celaeno couldn't hold a torch to his magic. "Why? Not going soft on the first stallion you've seen, are you?"

"You are hardly the first stallion I've seen, though you're the most handsome." The words surprised Celaeno. She certainly hadn't intended the compliment. "And you'll look a bit better when you're no longer hanging off my shoulder. Can't you just whip up that repair spell on your leg?"

"Doesn't work like that. Some things work on living things, but most of the time it needs completely different magic, or the pain from it working would kill ya." He noticed now they were headed for a specific building that had a white cross nailed to the door. "That the doc?"

"Yes and no. He does some doctorin', but he's a better carpenter than he is a doctor."

Looking down a moment, and spotting Celaeno's pegleg, Blastback asked, "Did he make yours?"

"Yeah, he did. You can probably pay him the same way you're paying for that pistol."

"Right. Well, in we go." With a door jam and wall to hold onto, Blastback followed Celaeno into the small building.

There was a surprising amount of light within, which meant Blastback could see the dark-feathered bird sitting on a stool measuring a rod of steel. Not a parrot, but a crow. Only when the rod was measured to the crow's satisfaction did he look up.

"Celaeno, captain, you have a new customer for me? What did you do, start trying to kick flying cannonballs?" Setting his tools down, the crow's eyes narrowed on Blastback. "Hook Beak." He thrust out his left arm to Blastback.

"Blastback Davies. We're here about a leg, yeah." The firm handshake seemed reassuring.

Hook smiled all down his long beak. "What you got in trade?"

"Magic. You want something to keep repairing itself even if you break it in half?" Blastback tried out his best smile.

"It's a nice start. What do you want out of a leg?" It was a strain to hide his excitement. Hook knew that Celaeno flew straight when it came to dealings in Lorikalia, so he had to believe that she thought the strange pony could do what he claimed.

Blastback shrugged. "To hold me up and not slip."

Laughing, Celaeno stepped forward. "Come on, Hook. He's like some kind of pony magician. Just fix him up with a leg and he'll do damn near anything magic you can imagine."

"You sure?" Hook asked.

"Yeah I'm sure."

"Hrmm, well, I just finished fixing this arm. Why don't you go ahead and use your magic on that? If it's as good as you say, it'll never break again, right?" Hook looked past Celaeno to Blastback.

Not having noticed the crow's left arm was mechanical until he pulled up the sleeve on his shirt, Blastback hopped closer and leaned on Celaeno to look at it. "It can still break, but it'll pull itself back together again."

"Huh. Okay, give it a shot. I just replaced the fingers and it's just how I like it now." Thrusting his arm out, Hook looked up at Celaeno with a curious, raised eyebrow.

Drawing out his wand with his right hand, Blastback worked the now very familiar spell into the metal limb. Unlike all the other times he'd cast it, however, the metal just soaked up more and more magic by the second until—when it finally accepted the enchantment—he was almost shaking. "What the fucking hell is that?"

Hook let out a caw of laughter. "It's not hollow. I have a gemstone in there that's bound with several enchantments. I take it your little trick will work even on that?" 

"Apparently. Holy shit it took it out of me." Shaking his head, Blastback resheathed his wand, only to watch the crow put his hand on the anvil beside him and bring down a hammer on the smallest finger.

Staring at his broken finger, Hook watched the metal warp and twist, parts pulling themselves back toward the stump it'd smashed off of, and when it was all reassembled he let out more caws of laughter. "You got yourself a deal! How long does this last?"

"As long as there's magic to sustain it. Last time I looked, this world is kinda full of magic." Blastback had felt all the tension leave the room when Hook laughed. The way the crow just seemed to dominate the building was intense.

"Okay then! Let me take some measurements. I have a new enchantment gem, so we could see about getting this leg to do some tricks." Crouching down, Hook offered Blastback his stool.





Aileek rolled the dice and breathed out a sigh of relief. "Hold on that five. Eleven more has me at thirty-five." She scooped the dice up and passed it back to Mullet.

"You know how to play this, eh?" Rolling the dice twice, Mullet got a one on the second roll and swore aloud. "Too damn good, if ya ask me." Though his voice was gruff, he had a grin. "It'd be worrying if we were betting for money."

"Cap'ns are coming back. Yours has a new leg. You think they're sharing bunks thing is gonna be ongoin'?" Lix Spittle elbowed Aileek. "If'n she don't keep hittin' that, I might try meself."

"Ugh, I don't want to know, you know? He's the captain, he can make up his own mind about who he fucks." Aileek rolled the dice again and got a six. "And there we go. Forty."

"Bah. Too good by half. Damn cats are too lucky." Mullet fished the bottle—only flask size—out of his pocket and set it before Aileek. "There ya are."

Holding up the bottle, Aileek opened the top and took a smell. Purring aloud, she closed the top before she would weaken and take a sip. "Real kumis. It's been way too long since I've had a proper drink."

As he walked up the gangplank with a rolling gait, Blastback looked at the crew sitting aboard his ship, along with the various pirates from Celaeno's that were there. "We're not getting a clipper. With some deals, we're getting a frigate. More guns than you can count, armored, redundant balloons, and we're going to take shifts up at the dockyards enchanting the thing to within an inch of its life. The price is enchanting another ship. Plus, Celaeno arranged for us all to be citizens here."

"Huh?" Aileek stood up slowly, palming the fermented milk drink into a pocket. "Me too?"

"All my crew. The laws here are a bit strange, but I can see why it holds together as well as it does. Once we're done fighting your war, well, I'm starting to think beyond that." Blastback gestured to the city beyond the wharf. "The folk here aren't so bad."

"Crew, boss?" Daku was first to speak up. Having become a full pony had left him most limited of all his squad, but at the same time it meant he was relied on to be the magic caster in any situation. "We're buying into this?"

Nodding, Blastback crouched down a little so Daku didn't have to look up so far. "I am, mate. That's the point. By getting citizenship here, you can work and live in Lorikalia or even seek out a ship going somewhere you want to be. Or you can stay on my crew and—"

"So if we're a crew, what's the rules there? It's not like being a squad, eh?" Junebug asked.

"That's where things'll change the most. Talked with Celaeno about it and we need to write a charter. Rules of the ship. First, it'll be a democracy—not the little bits, the big ones. Every port we come to, we all vote to see who is captain and first mate.

"There's a bunch more about shares of any loot, but I think we can sort that out after we're done with Aileek's job. No bunk-warming—that's what they call shagging. No killing another member of the crew.

"No gambling for money or rations. If you bet, you bet your own stuff. Cabins are quiet after 8. Your weapons are your responsibility." As he finished rambling off the list Celaeno had told him, Blastback walked over to where Aileek had been sitting and parked his rear down. "I'll write it all up. Right now, though, you can agree to go with me or stay ashore."

Firelight looked around at her squadmates and caught a nod from each of them. She turned her attention to Jack and Liz, and saw something else there. "Ja—"

"Sorry, mate, I can't do it. Liz and me, we're not—not cut for this. This isn't upholding the peace." Pulling Liz a little closer, Jack felt a small thrill as she actively leaned against him.

"That's why I'm doing it this way. Once I have all the citizenship confirmed, you could probably both get good work here with your magic or in your old line of work." Standing back up, Blastback walked over to the pair and thrust his hand out to Liz. "You're together, then?"

"Yes," Jack said.

"No," Liz said.

The two looked at each other and sighed. 

"It's complicated." Jack squeezed Liz's shoulder. "I don't know if I can try to get back what I had back—back on Earth. I need time to work that out."

"I'll give him that time. We've known each other long enough that it feels right to be together," Liz said, "but this whole situation is so messed up."

"Sorry, Blastback, but I just can't. Not like this. Back home I could keep up with street thugs and put down the odd situation the normies were having trouble with, but this is war," Jack said.

"Look, we'll get you settled here while we work on the new ship. You can spend some time establishing yourselves and—if you still want to stay—we'll sail without you." Blastback hated having to say goodbye, he still needed to recruit more crew, and here he was losing a combat wizard. "But this'll be our home port."

Jack sighed and broke his grim expression with a small smile. "Thanks, mate."

"Not a problem. You take care of him, Liz." Blastback waited until he got a nod from both of them before he turned back to his squad, Aileek, and the longma. "What about the rest of you?"

Breeze Cutter looked at his mate, then the rest of the longma. He was pleased to get a nod from each of them. "A month ago, if you'd asked me if I was willing to sail to war with a bunch of strange pony-creatures, I would have given your hooves a lick of fire to send you on your way." He took a deep breath and let out a small, blue flame. "But now I want to make that Storm King and his thugs pay for what they did to us and what they're doing to Abyssinia."

"And if you think you can get rid of any of us, captain, you have another thing coming." Firelight nodded to the rest of her squad and got nods back from everyone. "Okay, so we need people who are the best at enchanting, or what?"

"It's just a simple triggered Mending charm. With the amount of magic here, any of us could do it. The problem is the scale of what needs to be enchanted. We could enchant every plank and nail separately, but it would be better to do the hull in one piece so it all repairs together." Trying not to make a big deal of them all agreeing to stay on, Blastback was glad to change topics.

"We could work together. Junebug has a wild amount of kick from that horn of hers. Have her juice others up to work the big enchantments," Daku said.

Junebug snorted. "How many ship hulls do we need to enchant?"

Quickly adding things up in his head, Blastback counted them off on his hands. "There's our ship, which is about three times longer than this thing, there will be the balloons for it, and then the same again for Squab's ship and balloon. So one huge enchantment, then six big ones, and tons of things like rope, rudders, armor plating…"

"So, captain, write up a roster and let's do this. Let's build us an unkillable warship and go kick some ass." Firelight felt her element of choice boiling in her blood.

"And we need more gunners. A lot more gunners," Blastback said.





It took a month to lay the huge keel, strip the old ships and use the timber to build the new one. While that was happening, the guns were being melted down and recast with thicker walls and much longer barrels. 

Blastback went to the dockyard every morning to watch the ship take shape, then spent some time with his new pistol to learn its operation and how it fired, and finally rejoined Celaeno as they worked through interviews for gunners.

"I hate the waiting," Blastback said. "I want to get out there and hammer more of their ships."

Celaeno looked at the list and sighed. "You know I feel the same way. I don't want to take any of the hands from my ship, though, because when things get hairy, I like having a big crew that're all willing to pick up a sword."

"If even half this lot will pick up a sword, we'll have our own army. Three per gun, ten guns per side—This is madness."

"No, madness would have been making two rows of them. Let's hope we can get you the sixty crew you need." 





"So it's done? No more building?" Aileek looked at the monster airship. "I don't think I've ever seen something this big before. It can really fly?"

"Of course it'll fly. You think I've been building ships my whole life and haven't learned any lessons?" Squab asked. "Now, let's see it fly, eh?" It was, in her own mind, an amazing skyship. More guns than sense, the ability to repair itself, and enough self-repairing balloons that even scattershot wouldn't be overly concerning.

"There any traditions here we need to maintain?" Blastback ran his hand along the side of the hull, feeling the magic bound to it humming and waiting to work. Once the charms had been anchored, it had surprised all the wizards and witches how readily magic poured into them. 

Hearing him ask of tradition made Squab smile. "Well, the first person on deck needs to be the ship's captain. Another one is that you need a woman to break a bottle of something over the prow. The rest is mostly jetsam, and can be treated like it."

The little ceremony was carried out with a bottle of beer delivered to the prow by Junebug, and with the balloons filled, Blastback stepped onto his new ship. The planks of the deck didn't so much as twitch at his weight, and the whole vessel felt solid to him. On one hip he had a sword and the other he had a flintlock pistol—both of which he'd been practicing with over the ship's construction. "Stiff Wind." 

Turning and walking over to the rails, Blastback tried to ignore how odd his gait felt still. "Stiff Wind! It'll blow the storm away!"

Most of the crew standing on the dock watching weren't the squad he'd come with, the longma he'd freed, or Aileek. They were the new crews who'd signed on to shoot the guns of his ship. New and old, everyone cheered.

"Get onboard now. Let's take her for a fly!"





The scale of the new ship surprised even Celaeno. She worked with Mullet to provision Stiff Wind with powder, ammunition, food, and more. Neither had dealt with a ship so big before.

"It's almost like we need to just buy ten of everything we'd normally equip Pandemonium. I'm not sure if I love the idea, or hate it." What she hated was how much she had to barter for those supplies. What she didn't hate was the idea of having such a heavy hitter sail at her side. "Do you think we can get a discount of this for buying so much?"

"We can try. Here, we should probably get swords for all of 'em too. They might not all need them, but better to have a few too many than not enough."

"Actually, Blastback has that sorted. Each new crewmember is getting a sword and a dagger. With that many hands onboard, it'd be a waste not to equip them all. Aileek wanted all this shot, too. Sand? Do I even want to know what a cat wants with a ton of sand?"

"I want the sand," Aileek said, having walked into the tavern's taproom where the two parrots were working, "because nothing is worse than getting covered in hot sand when you're wearing armor." She made her way over to where they were going through her requests and tapped the stove she'd requested. "This is to heat the sand without having an open flame in the gun deck."

Celaeno lifted her head and looked up at Aileek with a raised eyebrow. "That's a nasty thing to do to someone. I like it." Using her quill she added a tick to sand and stove. "Everything else here looks normal."

"How long is it going to take to get all this ordered, loaded, and be ready to sail?" Aileek asked.

Tapping at the list with one claw, Celaeno had to admit she liked Aileek's enthusiasm. "We've already got stuff being delivered later today. With the crews already gathered, we can haul it onboard and stow it fast. It's the gun crews we're hunting for now. We need five more experienced gunner's mates. If you know of anyone—cat, pony, parrot, whatever—you find 'em and send 'em down here."

When Aileek stomped back out of the tavern, grumbling about finding fools, Mullet turned to Celaeno. "Speakin' of that upright pony—you've got a thing for 'im, cap'n?"

"Ha! We fit well together—and not just in the way yer thinking, Mullet. His mind is sharp as a dagger." Celaeno let out a low whistle. "He's already planned out dozens of encounters for various counts and configurations of ships. It's a struggle to keep up sometimes—"

"But ya do keep up, right?"

"Yeah, Mullet. Yeah I do."

"Then we'll be flyin' together fer a while." It wasn't a question. Mullet wasn't the sort to get jealous of a woman he'd never been with before, but his captain was his captain, and if she was going to get hard done by, he'd be there with his fists and sword to defend her. 

"He's also great in bed."

Mullet groaned and swung a lazy fist at Celaeno—missing when she dodged expertly. "Dammit, cap'n, didn't need to know that."

Laughing, Celaeno leaned forward again after avoiding the blow. "But now you do, Mullet. Keep off me case about 'im unless you want to know all the fuckin' details, got it?" 

"I'm the bloody first mate o' the ship. I need t' know if I gotta pitch an idiot parrot overboard because she's got too hungry for 'er own good." He pulled over another sheaf of paper with names on it and scowled. "I don't know any of these feather-brains."

"Then we load on ten percent more and have 'em trained on the way. Mullet"—Celaeno glared at her ship's first mate's left eye and let out a small snarl—"if you ruin this fuckin' thing because of some bullshit you got in yer head, I'll draw and quarter you meself. Just because I've ended a dry patch doesn't mean I'm fixin' to do something stupid. 'e's a good captain and a good fuck. Keep your nose out of the latter."

A shiver ran down Mullet's spine at the metal in Celaeno's voice. He gulped, remembering that she was the ship's captain in part because she was ruthless. "Yes, cap'n."

"As fer my decisions as captain, you know what the Storm King is about, right?" When Mullet shook his head, Celaeno went on. "He's taking over. Tartarus—he's taken over enough places already. Where do you think all his bloody ships're coming from?"

Being first mate of the ship meant that Mullet's focus was always on the ship, its crew, and getting both to do what Celaeno wanted. Hearing her talk about what amounted to a world-wide war made his empty eye socket itch. "Ya know my head's always on the ship, cap'n."

"I know, Mullet, and that's why I can think about this stuff. If we give this bastard more nations and more ground, he'll blanket the sky with airships. Eventually they'll come for Lorikalia.

"Swore an oath to this place—we all did—that we wouldn't lead scum here. If we let this Storm King keep going as he is, it'll wash up all on its own." Looking through the names, Celaeno noticed one she recognized. "Black-Powder Pete! That ol' bastard taught Squabble how to fire a gun!"

"Cap'n?"

"Wait here, Mullet, I gotta go talk an old, salty bastard to train some idiots for me. Hire the next 4 smart-looking lads and fill the crews out with muscle." Jumping to her feet, Celaeno walked toward the door.





Standing at the wheel, one hand holding it for support, Blastback heard the shout from the old, balding parrot come again just a moment for the whole ship shook. Raport after raport sounded as the guns along the port side shouted their fury at the world one by one. 

"Captain!" Firelight climbed up onto the aftcastle. "How many more days until we're done with this, you think?"

Looking to starboard and slightly fore of the ship, he spotted Celaeno's Pandemonium slicing through the sky with its feathers half-spread to catch their tailwind. "She might be a pirate, Firelight, but she's fighting the good fight."

"And when she doesn't?" Firelight asked.

"That's when we're done with this." Turning to his ship's first mate, Blastback smirked. "The question is, Firelight, are we still the good guys?"

"When our enemy is a bunch of slavers and oppressors, Blast, I like to think the answer to that is pretty clear." She stepped around him and put her hand on the wheel. "I got this. Take some time off that damn leg."

"It doesn't hurt."

"Don't care, cap'n."

"Thanks, Firelight." Letting go of the wheel, Blastback made his way to the captain's quarters of the ship, nodding to his crew as he went. It had only been a few scant months, but the big fight was just over the horizon now, and he wanted to be ready for it.
> A Different Path
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco looked around the strange city. It wasn't anywhere near as big as London, but as she gazed from the top step of the railway station, it looked to be about 70% unicorns. There was magic everywhere. She'd literally never seen so many creatures all using magic casually—as if nothing watching needed to be guarded against. 

The letter she still kept in her bags looked like it hadn't been opened, though she had read it. Princess Cadance, Draco had discovered, was an orphan too, and had spent time in Twilight Sparkle's mother's home—and she had a silly name Draco was sure wasn't real. The other important thing Draco had was the map showing her how to get to the right house.

It wasn't hard to follow, and soon enough Draco was standing out front of an unassuming house. It had none of the grand design of the manor she was more accustomed to living in. A thought ran through her head: she could skip the meeting and go somewhere else. Maybe try to make a name for herself doing… Draco's mind drew a blank. What could she do that the majority of the city couldn't already?

"Well, hello there. Can I help you with anything?" Twilight Velvet had opened her front door to go out and do some gardening, but found a filly on her doorstep instead. "Are you lost?"

Jerking her head in surprise, Draco looked at the mare who'd spoken to him. She'd sounded genuinely nice and not at all like the mother of a pony who could themselves have offspring. "I—uh—" She stopped and started over. "Princess Cadance wanted me to give you a letter."

Twilight took the letter from Draco—holding it in her magic to read it.



Twilight Velvet, Mom

This is one of the young witches that your daughter helped save. Her parents both passed while fighting a great evil. Please, just for three months, can you make a place for her in your home… like you did for another young orphan?

Her name is Draco and, in case you haven't been keeping track of things, she used to be a human. It's a large toll for one so young, but I remember how patient you can be.

—Princess Mi Amore Stinky Pants



The name, something her own son had called Cadance on several occasions, made Twilight chuckle. "Well, come inside, dear. Can I get you something to eat or drink?" Stepping back from the door, Twilight made a clear path for Draco.

Heading inside, Draco's luggage followed her in. "A drink—" She cut off short, eyeing the large living room. There was two large couches that seemed far deeper than the normal human-style ones. An open fireplace sat midway down one wall and had those couches flanking it to make a conversation area that would be well-warmed by the fireplace.

The usual homely things—curtains, coffee table, and cushions—went ignored as Draco realized this wasn't just a living room, it was a library. Apart from the window that let sunlight in from the street and the fireplace, every section of wall had a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, and every speck of room on those shelves was taken up by books. Small books, big books, multi-volume series, and even some periodicals lined the shelves.

The thing that really hit Draco hardest was that he could see a good third of them had titles implying they were about magic. When she noticed Twilight returning, Draco was surprised to see her carrying a glass with just a soft glow around it and her horn. 

"Here you go. I hope you don't mind some pear cider." Holding the glass out, Twilight's attention flicked over the two big bags Draco had with her. "Would you like to put your things in your bedroom?"

Grabbing the glass out of the air with a wing, Draco was still a little awed by the amount of books on magic in the room. "Wait, I have a bedroom already?"

Twilight turned and walked for the stairs. "Of course you do." Without any apparent effort, she picked up Draco's bags and led the way. "None of my little ones find time to visit often anymore, let alone stay overnight, so there are two bedrooms free for you to pick from, plus the guest bedroom."

"Uh…" Draco was a little lost as to what to do or say. Everything had happened so fast, and here she was in someone's house and unable to catch up with the flood of things going on. What did sink in, however, was that Twilight Velvet was completely unlike everything she'd expected. "Shining Armor and Twilight Sparkle are your children?" She already knew, but this house seemed so disconnected from the world Draco had left that right could be left and she would have struggled to find a way to challenge it.

"And Cadance, though she moved out before we had Twily." Opening the door to Shining's room first, Twilight gestured. "This was my son's room. That one there was Twily's, and the next on the right is our spare room." Twilight paused and waited.

"I-I'll take this one. I—" That's when Cadance's words flared out of Draco's memory. "I wasn't always like this."

"Cadance's letter explained you were a human before. I'm not familiar with them, unfortunately." Twilight set Draco's bags on the floor of Shining's bedroom.

"No, more than that. I was a boy—uh, male." The words were almost jerkily tumbling out of her, like boulders of truth dislodging one by one and falling down a mountainside, each one connecting with another bolder and sending it tumbling too.

Twilight froze at this. "Well, do you still feel like a—like a colt?"

"Yes, but not really." Draco stared at her two cases and sighed.

"Would you like to come back downstairs and talk about it?" Twilight didn't normally let her children eat or drink upstairs, but seeing Draco holding the glass of juice without even realizing she was didn't exactly count in her mind.

Only realizing she'd been carrying the glass herself, Draco took a sip and let out a surprised whinny at how good it tasted. "I haven't really talked to anyone about it. Cadance said I could be treated however I wanted, but can I?"

"Of course you can." Twilight led the way back downstairs and, when she reached the bottom, using her magic to reach out and light the fire.

That revelation was a surprise to Draco. The prospect of being stuck as a female pony, and with transfiguration magics not working effectively on them, had left Draco feeling hemmed-in. When she got to the living room and found a cozy fire going in the fireplace and Twilight sitting down on one couch, Draco walked over to the other one while holding her drink with one wing.

"I'm not a girl."

Twilight sipped her own drink as she got comfortable. With a light touch from her telekinesis, she put a heavier piece of wood on the fire. "Then you're not."

"It wouldn't be so bad if transfiguration magic still worked. I could just use that to make myself into a c-colt." As they spoke, Draco felt part of him click back into shape. It was like all the problems he'd been encountering over the last weeks came together and were revealed as just that—problems.

"'Transfiguration'? Have you tried using it on another pony?" Twilight only spoke after waiting to see if Draco had more to say.

"I—" The question made Draco stop and think, during which time he took another sip. "I don't think anyone has tested it."

"Well, so long as you can undo it, I know I can be transformed. Would you like to try?" The memory that the topic brought up was an odd one—Twilight had certainly never expected her time as a potted plant to be a useful life experience, but here she was.

It was hard for Draco to admit, but the reality of seeing what his parents had done had grounded him more than all the dressings down that Minerva McGonagall could have ever done. "I'm not good enough to do that. It's—It's really hard to do human transfiguration."

"Well, that could just take time to correct. Something to work on. Could I have a look at your wand? I must admit I'm a touch curious about all this." Distraction. What couldn't be corrected immediately can be left and worried about another day, or so Twilight thought.

Draco didn't even feel odd about drawing his wand and holding it out for Twilight. "You've studied magic?" 

"If you think my children became powerhouses of unicorn magic without being descended from two lines of well-trained and talented unicorns, you'd have another thing coming. These books do not belong to my children—they are the property of my husband and myself." With the fire crackling away, Twilight basked in its warmth and the look of surprise on Draco's face.

"You're like my parents." The moment he said it, Draco regretted bringing his parents up. Tears threatened to overcome him, but he choked them back. "Th-They were good at magic too. They turned themselves into—into fire demons to protect everyone going through the portal."

Draco had shut down, and only realized Twilight had moved when he felt her at his side. All those problems were revealed, but at the same time there so much to them it was hard to keep back. Pressing his face against her shoulder, he started to cry.

Holding Draco, Twilight didn't try to tell him it would be okay or that she could make it all better. She was a mother twice over herself, and knew she would make the same sacrifice for her foals that Draco's parents had for him.

The tears just kept coming. Draco wasn't sure when he dropped the drink he'd been holding, but Twilight didn't seem to remark upon it. On and on they flowed, and when he eventually ran out of tears, all he could do was sob against her.

Finally, between sobs, he managed to speak. "I loved them so much."

"You still do." Twilight felt his nod against her. "Never stop loving them and remembering them."

When his drink floated up into view—held by pink-glowing magic—he reached out a wing and took it, then drank half of the glass. He didn't want to talk and didn't want to listen, but the fire and having someone to lean against were both nice things.

When he finally finished the glass, Draco shook his head. "This feels so unlike me."

"You've been through a lot, but what would you like to do to make you feel normal again?" Twilight asked.

"I don't—" Draco closed his mouth. Thinking on it he could come up with a few things. "Getting my mane cut shorter. Getting some guy-clothe—" It occurred to him that ponies seemed mostly to go without clothing. "Do pony guys wear clothes?"

"On occasion. You want something that conceals, I assume? Most stallions and colts, if they wear anything, only cover their forequarters."

Looking back, Draco realized that while his robes kept things covered, he couldn't wear robes everywhere. There was the impracticality of pants on a pony, too. That's when it hit him. "What about a kilt?"

The word didn't ring true as anything she knew of, so Twilight shook her head. "Perhaps if you explained it."

For Draco, the problem with describing a kilt was that he inevitably circled around to it's like a skirt, but. "It's like a skirt, but males wear them. They're heavier, and not colorful."

Twilight bit her tongue on any witticisms that struck her about the comment—this wasn't something for jokes. "We can see about getting you something tomorrow, if you're comfortable enough in what you're wearing for today?"

Looking back over himself, Draco took careful note of the robes and uniform the room of requirement had given him. "They're fine, but they're school clothes. It doesn't feel right to wear them all the time."

"The other option is not to wear anything." Twilight could see immediately that this wasn't going to be a path for Draco. He didn't react by cowering, though, but straightening and lifting his head up. "No?" When he shook his head, Twilight nodded. "That's fine. As I said, this is your choice."

Draco drew his wand, slowly, and passed it over to Twilight. "You wanted to look at this?" Changing the topic had felt like a good idea. Draco was adrift without any hint of his former life to guide him, and despite how generous and helpful Twilight was, that was scary.

Taking the wand in her hoof, Twilight could feel it buzzing the moment the wood touched her. "I didn't want to take it with my magic in case there was a reaction—and I think I was right not to. It feels alive, like it wants to channel magic. It feels a little like a horn."

Wanting to appear knowledgeable, Draco explained, "They're made by special wand-makers. I don't know if any came through the portal with us or not. This one's made of hawthorn and has a core made of unicorn hair." As soon as he said it, Draco couldn't help but giggle—which utterly ruined the effect he was going for. "Unicorns were rarer back home and, uh, they didn't talk."

Holding the wand with one hoof, Twilight ran the other along its length from the handle to the tip of the wooden shaft. "Would you be okay if I tried casting a spell through it?"

His first reaction was to say no. It was Draco's first wand, and it was special to him, but Twilight was probably the only person he could think of that he could trust with it. After all, she had her horn for casting—she didn't need to keep it. "Alright, I guess."

"Okay, something simple. A light spell." Memorizing spell patterns wasn't easy. The harder the spell, the more a unicorn had to memorize, and the smallest bit wrong meant a malfunctioning spell and a terrible headache. 

To start with, Twilight just lightly pressed her magic at the wand—just a whisper to carry the pattern down it. What she got from that fraction of magic was a beacon of light that she quickly extinguished. "That's quite a potent tool," she said, blinking away at the purple blotch remaining in her sight.

When she passed the wand back, Draco quickly sheathed it. "I've never seen it do that before. There's more magic in this world, or so the teachers said, but is it that much?"

"We can test it, if you'd like, but first we need to both learn the exact same spell." Using her magic, Twilight selected her own notebook of spells. She knew where every single spell was in the book, though she certainly didn't plan to teach Draco some of the ones from the back. "First page is a light spell. The pattern is simple and only requires four angles and a half-loop."

Staring at the page and its carefully drawn diagram, Draco froze up. "We, uh, don't learn spells like that. How does it work?" 

The question delighted Twilight, mostly because it would give Draco and herself something to do—a distraction. "Magic, you see, is just patterns. Some creatures combine multiple patterns in the ways they speak or move or even gesture. Those multiple patterns come together to form a single pattern that triggers magic and gives it a path to follow.

"Unicorns have long since distilled that down. Long ago, somepony figured out that rather than using dozens of different patterns to create a magical effect, we could use just one very precise one.

"Here, this pattern will make more sense if I construct it."

Watching as Twilight's horn started to glow the softest he'd seen it yet, Draco stared as a pinkish pattern appeared in the air before him—only it wasn't a simple 2D one like on the page. Tilting left and right, Draco saw now how it went together. "That's a knot made out of—of magic!"

"Right now, it only has enough to exist as a pattern. Use your wand to touch it and feed it more magic." 

Drawing his wand again, Draco held it firmly in his wing and reached forward. Just as the tip of his wand touched the pattern, he felt a tug on his magic. Relaxing his grip, he let his power flow into the pattern.

It took a lot of magic to activate the spell, or so Draco felt, but even still he kept pushing until the end of his wand lit up with a glow. "That took a lot to cast." As he said the words, Draco realized something different from how he normally felt when casting magic. "But I don't feel weak like I should."

"I'm starting to think that magic on your world was scarce. Your wands are essentially a powerful magic-amplifying device, you strain to feed a weak spell an appropriate amount of magic, and when you do, you are quickly replenished by ambient magic." Twilight produced another pattern and fed the slightest touch of magic to it. "What are your thoughts?"

Normally, at Hogwarts, Draco would have let one of the Gryffindor students answer such questions—unless Severus was feeding him answers, of course. But, with no one else around, Draco focused on the problem. "W-Well, I'm not an adult yet, so I don't have an adult capacity of magic." A nod from Twilight encouraged him more. "And, I'm not used to using large amounts of magic."

"Or holding large amounts of magic." Twilight put her notebook back on the shelf and selected a different book. "These are not normally taught to foals, since a unicorn foal would normally need control—which you already have. This book teaches methods for expanding your magic capacity through meditation and stretching your magic."

"Stretching it?"

"Meditation of particular kinds will stretch your magic. Think of your magic like a muscle. Muscles don't grow unless you work them regularly." Opening the book, she set it before Draco. "This book has meditation and training techniques to stretch those magic muscles so that not just your capacity for magic increases, but your ability to absorb magic will increase too."

"This is like nothing I've ever seen at Hogwarts—nothing I've even heard of." Draco read as fast as he could, as deeply as he could manage. The first exercise was a mild magic-drain spell that would literally cause all his magic to leak out his—horn. "I don't have a horn, though."

"You have a wand. A wand that seems to be able to work similar magic to a unicorn's, even if at a lower output." Slipping off the couch, Twilight used her magic to set another big log on the fire and collect their empty glasses. "Why don't you spend some time working on that, and I'll see about making dinner?"

The moment Draco started reading, it seemed like the world slipped away. This was magic on a scale wizardry had never conceived, and taught in a way different from any school.

First was breathing, which Draco thought he'd managed pretty well with all his life—but this was different. As Twilight had told him, he substituted his wand for his non-existent horn, and followed the instructions. Breathe out and let magic just pour down his horn wand, then breathe in and draw it back in again.

At first the second part didn't work. Every time Draco emptied himself of magic as he exhaled, the magic would rush in right away to top him back up. 

It took him almost an hour of practice before he realized the problem wasn't to try filling himself back up, but to hold back and only fill up on his terms. He tried it several times and just couldn't hold back the weight of all the magic. 

On his sixth try, and straining as hard as he could, he held back the weight to a trickle.

His seventh try was more successful, and by his tenth he was down to almost no leak at all.

He was getting ready to try again when a voice broke his focus. Shaking his head, he looked at Twilight. "S-Sorry." The thing that was strangest to Draco was how much his voice differed from his old one.

"Dinner's ready. Normally we'd wait for Night, but he's going to be at work late for the whole week. They have finals, and he's stuck marking papers." Twilight turned and started back into the kitchen.

Unsure if he should follow or not, Draco had to make up his mind. At home, only servants ate in the kitchen. Even Hogwarts had the great hall for everyone to gather and eat. It felt like slumming it, but he walked after Twilight after making sure the book was safely closed and his wand was in its holster.

The kitchen was just as warm as the living room. Even with his coat, his feathers, and his school clothes, Draco had felt a slight chill on his way to the house—but not so now. Twilight was carrying things to a six-seating table from the bench of the kitchen area.

"Have a seat. I made us something simple." Setting down a bowl of asparagus shoots, some roast carrots, and a roasted sweet potato, Twilight settled at the table and then reached out to grab the gravy boat.

Simple, at least by Draco's standards, this meal wasn't. Even the vast feasts at Hogwarts usually resulted in a very expansive but child-orientated meal. He could see the food here was an adult meal—like what his parents ate back home. "It looks delicious."

Twilight heard a measure of surprise in Draco's voice that made her motherly instincts dance for joy. She started serving up Draco's plate. "Trust me, a little butter on the asparagus is amazing. You don't mind me using my magic at the table?"

"Uh." Draco was caught off-guard. "Why wouldn't you?"

"It can be seen as rude for a unicorn to eat using their magic." 

Draco racked his brain to remember the spell he'd seen Harry use so many times recently. Focusing on the pronunciation and his intent, he cast a Locomotor spell on his cutlery. It didn't take much effort to lift them up with his mind. "Only if you don't mind too."

With a laugh, Twilight started serving herself. "Well said. Take whatever you'd like. I don't think we'll stand on formality."

So Draco followed Twilight's example and put some of everything on his plate, then started eating. What struck him was how flavorful everything was. He'd eaten some of the best food his parents' standing could attain, but most of it paled compared to Twilight's something simple.

Finishing, Draco could only stare at his plate.

"Good?" Twilight asked.

"Yeah I—Do you have any meat?" What prompted his question was a wiggling mass inside his robes. Carefully, he lifted Bess out of his robe and set the snake on the table beside him. "She, uh, lives on mice and small birds."

Blinking in surprise, Twilight fought not to have one of the freakouts her family were well known for. "She's your p-pet?"

"Yes. She's seven, gentle, and I grew up with her." Using his wing, Draco carefully stroked Bess' head, feeling as she bumped up against each touch. "She gets really cold, though, so I let her sleep against me."

"Will she need feeding tonight?"

"N-Not really. She fed two days ago, but she should be eating twice a week." Picking up on Bess' emotions, Draco tickled under her chin.

"Is Bess venomous?"

"Would it be a problem?"

"No, it just means I'll leave her care entirely to you." 

Draco didn't expect Twilight's laughter, but it relaxed him a bit to know she wasn't going to try to make him give up Bess—something he wouldn't do. "Probably for the best. She is—well, back home on earth—the most deadly land snake."

"Then there's another thing we can do—take her to see somepony about having an antivenom made." Standing up, Twilight used her magic to pick up the dishes and serving plates. "How was the meditation?"

"It was strange. I didn't know what it was trying to teach me, but I think I figured some of it out. The hard part is holding magic back from filling me before I inhale, right?" The display of magic was less shocking than seeing people doing it in public, but it was still amazing to see someone not needing a spell or even a wand to levitate things around.

Twilight nodded. "The first step, matching your magic control to your breathing, is far more about learning to control your magic flow than about breathing or meditation, the breathing just helps you relax and focus on it."

It wasn't all that much of a revelation. Draco had been put forward a year only because Albus Dumbledore had thought he could manage it—his parents pushing for it had just made the opportunity to actually do it. "It still helps. Can I go and try some more?"

"Of course you can. You don't mind if I read, do you?" Twilight set a cleaning spell to start work on cleaning the dishes and turned for the living room.

All Draco's life he'd been treated as a child. Now he realized the freedom Twilight was offering was genuine. Holding out his wing to Bess, he shook his head. "I'll probably be making more noise than you."





Waking up was one of the more normal things of Draco's recent life. The soft twitching of Bess' twin-tined tongue made him smile. "Morning."

Bess just flicked her tongue out again and licked her favorite heat source on the nose. As a human, Draco had been barely useful. He'd put out a lot of heat, but his body wasn't nearly as good as his new one. When Bess had learned about the best place in the universe—tucked between Draco's wing and his torso—she had found where she wanted to live for the rest of her life.

"Yeah, yeah. I know I should get up. I wonder what strange stuff is going to happen today, Bess? It seems like the whole world has been falling apart, then I wind up in another one, and that's not much better." Draco had heard rumors of familiars of old being able to talk to their wizard masters. 

A knock on his door shouldn't have been a surprise, yet it still managed to be. "Hello?" he asked.

"Just checking if you're awake. The shower is free if you want to wash now." With a towel wrapped around her mane and tail, Twilight tried to avoid sounding too excited—she was a morning-pony, and knew that not everypony was like her. Like her husband, still fast asleep in bed.

"Uh, where's the bathroom?" Draco asked as he slid out of bed. From under his wing, Bess let out a soft hiss but retreated into her safe place.

"Down the hall—Can I open the door?" Twilight asked.

Draco was, for want of a better word, naked. It seemed panic-worthy to have the door opened on him when he was naked, but then he remembered one thing—all his rude bits were in the back. Straightening up to face the door, he said, "Okay, sure."

Opening the door, Twilight spotted Draco standing there without his robes on. "Night is still asleep. If you move fast, nopony will see you rush to the bathroom. On your left and two doors down. There're fresh towels in there you can wear back."

"R-Right. Uh. Thanks, Mrs. Twilight."

"Just call me Twilight." Turning and leaving the door open to tempt Draco, Twilight made her way downstairs to get breakfast started.

"Maybe I could cast a spell to make me invisible—if I knew one. You safe in there, Bess?" Draco turned his head to look under his wing, only to get another lick on his snout. "I'll take that as a yes. You really want to shower?"

When he got no further response from Bess, and realized he was only procrastinating, Draco marched out into the hallway and down to the right room then ducked inside. The first thing that happened when he found out how to turn the water on, was Bess slithering off him and fleeing to the towel rack.

Cleaning himself, Draco was forcibly reminded that his body was female. It was annoying, but he could deal with it if he could just hide his back end with something. Getting all soaped up, he rinsed off and turned off the taps—only to have a hot, dry wind start blowing around him.

It only took moments for his coat to be dry, then a little longer and his tail and mane were too. Climbing out of the shower, he walked to the mirror and examined his face in it. It didn't look female—he didn't look female—to him. "Bess, do I look like a girl?"

Slithering her way onto the cool porcelain, Bess made her way quickly to Draco's neck, circled around that twice, then made her way down to his wing. All the way, she flicked out her tongue rapidly to taste the strange new air of this world.

Getting no answer from her, Draco let out a sigh. "And I have no idea how to deal with all this hair. I guess I should ask Twilight." Using his wing to secure a towel, Draco pulled it up and over his back-end. It hung down enough that it was a little like a skirt, and he used his wings to tie the free corners loosely under his belly.

Turning to face the doorway when Draco walked into the kitchen, Twilight gave him her best smile. "Morning. Sit down and have some porridge." She used her magic to ladle out the last of the porridge in the pot into the third bowl at the table. "Oh, you didn't meet Night yesterday. This is Night Light—my husband."

"Hey there. Twilight"—Night leaned to the side and kissed Twilight's cheek—"said you'll be staying with us for a few months, Draco?"

It felt awkward to Draco. This was Night's home, and here he was just casually moving-in at Twilight's word. "Yeah. Shin—"

"Shiny and Twily both sent word that Draco was a hero in the war of the Crystal Empire. Cadance sent a letter to accompany him here, asking if we could give him a place to get away from his school until the next semester." Twilight scooped up another spoonful of porridge and contentedly started chewing on it.

"Well, with so many recommendations, how could I possibly turn you away?" Night, for the first time, realized Draco was a pegasus. "I remember the last time we had a pegasi living here. Mi Amore Cadenza she'd gone by back then."

"The princess? So she wasn't making a joke?" Draco climbed up onto a chair and looked at the condiments on the table. There was a bowl of sugar, a jar of honey, and yet another of some kind of dark black fruit jam—he reached for the honey with a wing.

"Cadance? It was probably a joke on top of being true. Sorry, I thought you were a unicorn with the way Twilight was talking about your magic." Looking aside at his wife, Night raised an eyebrow at her in question.

Twilight poked her tongue out at her husband. "I wanted to see how you'd accept a pegasus doing unicorn-like magic. Do you think I could borrow some equipment from the school?" 

"That's less a case of could you and more who would try to stop you."

"Mmm"—Twilight took a sip of juice—"I think you're exaggerating, but I'll be stopping by some time today to pick up a few things."

Draco ate his way through the bowl of porridge, eventually getting to the bottom without being asked any further questions. "So, uh, what am I meant to do today?"

Reminded that Draco was present, Twilight shot him a smile. "Well, I have a few things I need your help with, and I'd like to see you spend at least two hours working on your magic, and I'll be talking to a friend about flying lessons—though you don't need to be with me for that one, it would be nice for you to meet them."

"Clothes?" Draco asked.

"That's something you'll need to accompany me for. We'll be visiting a friend for advice on where to go, and then we'll likely spend an hour or so actually shopping." At Draco's dismayed look, Twilight tried to remember back to how her own son would have acted. "Draco, striking the right look takes work. When I lay eyes upon you, I see a handsome young colt, but not everypony will see the bold way you stand or the way you puff out your breast. The right clothing will make them notice those things."

Grabbing up his glass of juice with his wing, Draco gulped it all down noisily. With his whole world turning upside down, it was hard for him to remember who and what he was. "I'm going to go meditate."

Night Light smiled as Draco walked from the room. He knew from experience how well his voice would carry into the living room (quite well). "He's doing okay?"

Flashing her husband a curious look, Twilight nodded. "His magic is not all that different to unicorn magic—enough that I believe I can teach him how to perform anything up to adept level spells. It's uncanny, though, but the little bits he's shown of his school is they don't have a very structured learning system."

Draco, who was perfectly happy to eavesdrop, sat on the couch and focused on listening to what Twilight and Night were talking about.

"What about regular school classes? You might have to teach him geography and history, at the very least. Maybe they might be picking up those topics now?" Night asked.

"I guess I'll go back to the school with him and ask them." Twilight closed her eyes for a moment and reminded herself of the promise she'd made to Cadance. This wasn't going to be a small undertaking—Draco was a real foal and needed all the attention and guidance that a foal would need. "I'll have to duck out and get a few balls rolling."

"Oh?" Night asked.

"I need to find out where Draco is citizenship wise, fix things if it doesn't align, and arrange for him to be officially recognized as Equestrian. You might as well come back in if you're listening." Twilight held her husband's smile with her eyes until she heard hoofsteps approaching. "You're old enough to make some of these decisions yourself, but I believe the more important ones can wait until you're ready to return."

"To Hogwarts?" Draco asked from the doorway.

"Yes. You need to be at least sixteen to reach majority in Equestria, and I don't believe you're that old yet." By the look Twilight saw on Draco's face, she was correct. "So, I propose you can live under our roof until then. You will have the same freedom as our foals did."

"That's—" Draco had to stop and think. Despite it being sudden, Twilight was probably the nicest person he'd ever met. She definitely seemed to understand more about him than he did right now.

Night nodded. "Too soon. I think she means that you get to spend the few months here with us and get to decide if this is what you want."

"A-And if not?" Draco asked.

"Then you get the entire school year to find somewhere else to live."

Draco still wasn't sure where exactly he stood with Night, though the deal felt fair—mostly. "Why are you doing this for me?" It was the question he'd wanted to ask since he'd arrived and the desire to ask it had only grown after every single thing Twilight had done for him.

Taking a deep breath, Twilight Velvet didn't try to force a smile—it just happened on its own. "Because you need somewhere to live. You deserve somewhere to live, Draco. And, frankly, I wouldn't be able to look my children in the eye if I didn't try to help you in every way I could."

It almost hurt to feel so much emotion. Draco could remember that last moment with his parents, and for a fraction of a percentage of a moment he felt like being here was a betrayal of them. But then his mother's words came back to him. Do what you're told.

With that he could think past the loss and the betrayal and see two ponies trying to help him. "Thank you." The words were still huge. Draco Malfoy would never have said thank you to anyone, but here he was, and he felt like he wanted to cry again. 

Turning, Draco marched back into the living room and climbed back onto the couch. Trying to ignore the mess of emotions that boiled inside him, he focused on his breathing again, and started to match his magic flow with that.

Twilight looked at Night and nodded, giving him a shy smile. She got a kiss on her cheek from him.





Draco wasn't sure how long he'd been at it, but he felt magically exhausted. He'd never in his life felt like this before, and it was compounded by the fact he knew he was topped up on magic. Opening his eyes, he spotted a note on the couch opposite him.

Climbing off the couch, he walked over and used a wing to pick it up.



I left you to your meditation. I should be back within an hour or two—am trying to get as much done that doesn't need your presence as I can. If you feel hungry after your work, and I bet you will, there is fruit in the fridge. Help yourself.

—T



At school, Draco was sure that everyone who ever talked to him only did so because they had to or felt like it would give them some benefit. It was odd, but Lucian had become an exception in that. The last he'd seen of Lucian was on the Earth side of the portal and then one glance after they were back in Equestria.

So far, though, Draco hadn't found a reason for why Twilight and Night took him in. Except for the ones they'd given. Walking through to the kitchen, he opened the fridge and found a selection of fruit—so he grabbed an apple and a banana.

Just opening the door, though, made him tingle a little. It took him a minute to realize what it was. The feeling was the same as when he'd been dried in the shower. The fridge, he realized, used magic.

Walking back to the living room with his stash, Draco started on the apple and looked around at all the bookshelves again. Walking over to one shelf, he started to read the covers of the books. They looked like the newest on the shelf, and immediately he recognized the names on them.

"The Art of Teleportation, by Twilight Sparkle. Advanced Magical Barriers, by Shining Armor. Optical Maginetic Imaging, by Night Light." More and more he read and the entire shelf was Twilight's family. "Unified Theory of Magic: Volume 1, by Twilight Velvet."

Reaching up, Draco lifted that down and carried it to the couch. Twilight had seemed to have some level of arcane knowledge, but Draco had scarcely believed her likely to have written such an extremely important-sounding book.

Opening the tome, Draco expected to find tiny handwriting scrawled over each page flanked by arcane patterns—as could be found in most Hogwarts' textbook. Instead, the book looked perfectly and neatly typed, the diagrams seemed to be professionally drawn, and even had a table of contents at the front that showed him there were five neat sections; four chapters and a glossary.

Flipping to the first chapter, Draco expected it to dive right into things, but again he was surprised to find the book so professional. "Structural Grammar of Magic." The chapter, when he started reading it, was literally an entirely new way to describe magic. 

At first it was so dry he was already reaching for his banana, but just a few pages in he started noticing little jokes that Twilight had worked into it. The jokes soon became a focus, though that meant he had to read carefully just so he could understand what was and wasn't a joke.

In the strange way of thinking about magic Draco found not just explanations for how wand magic could be defined, but the one spell he'd seen of pony magic fit easily within it too. He was reading it so intently that he only barely registered hearing the door open and close.

"That's a little dry, surely? Structural Grammar of Magic was something I wrote thinking it would be a grand uniting structure of magic and the analysis of magic. It turned out to be a club for professors to batter their first-year students into submission." Tossing two bags onto the couch beside Draco, Twilight nodded toward them. "Try those on. The most useful one is a cloak you can wear that will conceal most of your body."

Draco had a problem, he couldn't hold the book and go looking through the bags at the same time. Thinking quickly, he tore a strip off the top edge of the paper bag and slid it into the book before closing it. "It's not that bad, not when you start getting all the jokes. Also, from what I've read so far, it seems to completely fit wizard magic too."

"Really? I've been told by some that the grammar system is just a little too rigid to account for all possible forms of magic, but I'm yet to get an actual example it cannot adequately define." Twilight helped Draco open the first bag. 

Lifting out the deep green cloak, Draco jumped to his hooves and sling it over himself, having to work his wings a few times to get it to lay evenly. The first thing he noticed was, "There's no holes for my wings."

"Canterlot doesn't cater to a lot of pegasi, and fewer still want to cover themselves this much. It's all I could get on such short notice, but we can visit a store later on that can make things to order." Tugging at the outfit here and there, Twilight circled around Draco and nodded at how well it hung on him. "This will let you keep your dignity until then."

If there was one thing Draco was trying to get used to, it was having his emotions pivot around like crazy. "Th-Thanks. Again. I'm not going to get in trouble for reading your book?"

"Absolutely not. I wrote those books to be read. Finding somepony so young who is willing to read the grammar section and not skip it to read the actual theories tickles me pink." Opening the next bag, Twilight lifted free a bathrobe. "This lacks wing holes too, but I think it'll be good having something to wear around the house."

"Books back home—magic books—tend to be dangerous. I saw the Care of Magical Creatures textbook we'd be getting for third year, and it's actually alive and has big teeth." Lifting a forehoof, Draco gestured to the bookshelves. "This is—This is sane."

"Come on, and let me show you some more sane things. I would have taken you to a wonderful seamstress in Ponyville, but making a day-trip there just for that would be a waste. Besides, she specializes mostly in female formalwear." Walking back to the door, Twilight opened it with her magic. "The books will still be here when we get back."

Draco, who'd been trying to work out what to do with the book on magic, set it down on the couch and walked after Twilight. "How far away is Ponyville?" All he actually knew of the place was that Harry was there. 

Closing the door behind Draco, Twilight pointed back toward the railway he'd arrived from. "Only an hour by train, but it's an hour there and an hour back. Twily lives there too, and somehow she managed to outdo me for most books in her home—though she cheated."

Trotting a little faster to catch up and walk beside Twilight, Draco tried to wonder how you could cheat at having books. "What, did she move into a library?"

The sarcasm made Twilight laugh. "Actually, yes. That's exactly what she did. She was assigned there by Princess Celestia herself." It pained Twilight a little to remember what Celestia had done, but even as Twilight Sparkle's mother, Twilight Velvet had to agree that it had been the right choice.

Draco picked up on the slight barb in Twilight's voice. "What happened?" 

"You'll be able to read about it in any recent history book, so why not. My daughter got trapped in the one place she simply couldn't walk away from—school. She started young, finished everything they could throw at her, and—" Twilight paused as they had to flatten to the side of the road to let a squad of Guardponies thunder by. 

When Draco reached her side again, Twilight went on, "… and she discovered new things to study all on her own. Things like Nightmare Moon, the prophecy of her return, and when it would happen. Princess Celestia sent Twily to Ponyville to find the friends she needed to not just stop Nightmare Moon, but save her too. It worked, but I was very upset with Princess Celestia for quite some time."

"Isn't she in charge of—of everything?" Draco asked.

"She is, and the worst part was she understood exactly why I was cross with her. She expected it and seemed to welcome it. When I realized that, I did say a lot of things I regret now, but she's never spoken a word about it." Closing her eyes for a moment, Twilight took a long, slow breath to center herself.

"But she could, couldn't she? She's basically like our Queen is to muggles. If she ordered it, she could have you thrown in jail, right?"

"She could do a lot worse, but she has never lifted a hoof over it."

"So she's got something over you." Draco wasn't all that surprised at Twilight's startled look. "Well, she does."

"I hadn't thought of it like that, but then, she has that same something over everypony in Equestria. She's been ruler so long that nopony would think of saying a bad thing about her."

"Except you?"

"Except me." The way Draco thought was curious to Twilight. The way she followed his mind, he was always looking at reasons for ponies to do good things. "Why do you think I am taking care of you, Draco?"

Draco's mind hit full panic. He chased around the question, coming up with reasons like Twilight owing or trying to curry favor with her daughter-in-law, with Celestia, or even with her son. But the more he came up with, the more he struck down.

"Well?" Twilight asked.

Shrugging his shoulders, Draco said, "I don't really know. You said it was a promise, but I don't think that's it at all."

"You're right. That promise doesn't really matter. Saying you'll do what's in your nature is an easy promise to make. Harder promises—probably the hardest you'll ever make—involve changing your nature."

"But what—" Draco stopped talking because he couldn't think of an alternative. "My dad wasn't all that nice. He made life hard for a lot of people just because he could.

"But, when some of those same people he was hard on were going to die, he—he gave his own life to protect them. I can't figure out why."

"Sounds like he was a brave stallion."

"But he wasn't—wasn't nice. To people, I mean." Walking in silence for a little bit, Draco slowly realized that wasn't what Twilight had said. "Brave."

"There are two words that ponies often mix up—bravery and fearlessness. The latter is to literally have no fear, and while such people can go down in history as heroes, they are left out entirely as often as not." Spotting their destination, Twilight led Draco across the street and closer to the front door. She stopped before going inside. "Brave people, though, do amazing things despite being terrified. Such situations have a habit of drawing out the truth of people."

Draco felt the simple logic hit him right in the heart. He knew his parents weren't fearless, which only left one option. While he searched through the possible meanings, Twilight stepped into the doorway of the building beside them and opened the door. With nothing else to do, he followed.

"Twilight! I didn't expect you back until the afternoon." Upper Crust beamed at the new arrivals in her store. "Oh, you simply must see this new piece I made for—Oh." Her eyes locked on Draco. "Is this the young stallion?"

It might have been layering on the emphasis a little thick, but Twilight wasn't going to fault Upper's enthusiasm. "It is indeed. This is Draco, and he's spending a few months in our wonderful city before returning north for school."

"I see, and I take it you'll be needing an entire wardrobe?" Practically bubbling with excitement, Upper was more interested in the challenge of making so many outfits to show off a filly's body as masculine than just the making of clothes. She wasn't just a seamstress—she loved the challenge.

"He will. I'm not sure how warm it gets up there, but I've heard that area sees snow most of the year. Draco, what are your thoughts?" Twilight asked.

His mind still racing with earlier thoughts, Draco had barely noticed the emphasis Upper had placed on his maleness. "I don't really—I mean I don't feel the cold that much. It is nice to have warm things, though." 

"Well, that means I can spend a little more effort on style over function." Upper directed her magic to the door, locking it. "Now, before we talk styles or designs, I'm going to need to measure you up. I've already canceled the rest of my appointments for the day—fashion emergencies always take first priority."

It took Draco a moment to catch up with the next assumption of him. "Oh, right. You want to measure me. I—" He gulped and used his wings to remove the cloak.

Twilight took the cloak with her magic while Upper fetched a tape measure, pad, and pencil. "Upper won't take any longer than she needs to, Draco. The reason I came here is she's a professional, but dress making is her passion." 

What was a surprise for Draco was hearing Upper note the name of each part she measured. What he thought of as his chest (just under his neck) she called breast. She went on to measure around his body and call the front his chest and the back his belly. She measured his legs in several places, his neck, and even where his tail was. 

"It's perfectly understandable to be nervous. Here." No sooner did Upper pass Draco back the green cloak than he quickly put it on and practically hid under it. "Now we need to talk styles."





Draco felt exhausted. It had felt like months spent looking at clothing and trying to picture the styles Upper had been talking about. He'd wound up with an order for a dozen cloaks, two sets of formalwear, three sets of casual things he could wear around the house, and two bathrobes.

"Where to now?" Draco asked.

Twilight, who was carrying a stack of boxes that contained three cloaks, gestured back toward home. "First we drop these off, then we go and see a friend about some lessons for you."

Wearing the fourth cloak that Upper had made in the time available, Draco flexed his wings a little and ruffled them. "Lessons? Magic?"

"Not magic. I can teach you anything you want to know about that. I was thinking you might like lessons in flying." Pleased to see Draco's head snap around, Twilight smiled as her plan apparently met with excitement.

Unable to stop them, Draco's wings jumped open in shock at the idea of flying with them. "You really mean I could fly like this?"

"In case you failed to notice, Draco, I'm a unicorn. Magic is my specialty, not flying." Extending her magic around herself, Twilight lifted her body off the ground just a hoof's width before setting back down. "Though I have worked out a trick in that direction. No, you'll be getting lessons from a flight instructor."

Struggling to calm down, Draco drew on that steely demeanor he'd cultivated under his father's watchful eye. Closing his wings back down, he cleared his throat. "Thank you."

"Relax, Draco. You're young and excited—it's okay to show it. Come on, let's race back to the house." Twilight was past rushes of youthful exuberance, but she wanted to see Draco smile and bounce around, so in aid of this she took off at a run for her home.

Draco managed to hold back for almost a hundredth of a second before excitement got the better of him and he ran. He ran and ran, and despite his shorter legs he caught up to Twilight just as they reached their home. "Who's going to teach me?"

"You don't know them, but they're a pegasus who I trust to give you a good grounding in flight." Setting the boxes down on the couch with the other mess, Twilight winced at the cleanup that would be needed later and closed the door again.

Twilight deflected all of Draco's not-so-subtle attempts at finding out who the trainer was. Even when the only thing in sight was the E.U.P. Guard training fields, she shrugged her shoulders. She approached the two ponies at the front gate. "Twilight Velvet and Draco here to see Sergeant Bluebelle."

"A soldier? What kind of flying are you going to let me learn?" Draco asked as one of the soldiers at the entrance trotted off into the compound.

"Anything you want to learn, Draco. That's the point. I'll let you move at your own pace and in your own direction with everything." Twilight ruffled Draco's mane a little. "Would you rather I have sent you to a little foal's school for first fliers?"

Draco shook his head quickly for fear Twilight might decide to do that anyway. "Thanks."

Spotting the familiar form of Twilight Velvet at the gate, Bluebelle felt more relaxed as she approached. "Twilight. Is this the young colt you have for me to train?"

Starting to suspect Twilight had really spoken to all these ponies and mentioned he was a colt, Draco felt he owed Twilight just a little more with every pony they met.

"He sure is. You said you might have some time free to do some training this afternoon?" It didn't matter to Twilight that she was burning through favors and promises at a startling rate, this was something that was worth surrendering a little comfort for.

Looking over Draco, Bluebelle nodded. "Yeah, I think we can at least get a measure of each other today. By the look of those wings, though, we might have to spend the first day teaching you preening."

Draco turned his head a little to look at his right wing. "What do you mean? Like a bird?"

"No. Like a pegasus. It's a lot easier to fly if your wings are in good shape." Half-turning, Bluebelle gestured toward the barracks with her wing. "Come on. We'll get onto that right now."

"You remember the way back?" Twilight asked. When Draco nodded, she gave him a supportive smile and nod. "I'll see you when Sergeant Bluebelle is done with you, then."





On the walk back, Draco had a lot of things kicking around in his head. The first was that wings were a lot of work. Pegasi lacked a gland to produce oil (like birds have) to preen, so had to buy oil to preen feathers with. Oils came in dozens of types and hundreds of scents (and he didn't like any of them). 

Then there were combs and picks and brushes and—Draco was sure there would be an end to the tools needed to keep feathers in optimum shape, but after just one session with Bluebelle he wasn't going to put money on it.

It would have been easier for him to disregard them as being stuff girls do if Bluebelle wasn't wearing armor, wasn't obviously respected (literally everyone saluted her), or acted girly. Draco had to face facts—being a pegasus meant time spent to maintain wings with enough products that would leave the average makeup kit in its dust.

He was just following his steps back to the house he was tentatively thinking of as home when a ball hit his flank. Turning to look, there was a pair of unicorn foals looking at him, then both looked down at the ball.

There was an odd excitement that tried to beat its way free of Draco Malfoy, and if it weren't for nearly two days of living in an entirely different world—physically and metaphorically—it wouldn't have gotten free. Tilting his foreleg back, he kicked the ball with a hoof back toward them two.

"You want to play?" Of the two unicorns—both colts—one kept looking at Draco. "I'm Bright Glow and he's Cotton."

"You look funny. What's your name?" Soft Cotton asked.

"I'm Draco Malfoy." Walking over to them, Draco looked at how Bright held the ball in his magic. "How do you play?"

"You gotta get the ball to the other end of the alley. If someone gets the ball off you, they have to bring it up this end and go down the other end again to score. Magic and shoving is fine. No flying." Soft said. "Still wanna play?"

"Sure." Draco reached under his wing for his wand and held it as best he could. "Who starts with the ball?"

"You can, since your a filly." Bright used his magic to flick the ball at Draco.

"'M not. I'm a colt." Draco couldn't do more than light with his wand with pony magic, but he could—and did—grab it with a wing.





"Bright! Soft! Get your fuzzy butts in here!"

"Who's that?" Draco asked.

Bright rolled his eyes and said, "Mom. We'd better go. You wanna play again tomorrow?"

Feeling excited and completely distinct from the persona he'd put forward at Hogwarts, Draco nodded. "Yeah. Same time?"

"Bright! Who are you talking to?" A mare poked her head into the alley and spotted her errant sons.

"I better go. Same time tomorrow." Turning, Bright trotted back to his mother—who had been silent.

The last thing Draco saw of the family, Bright and Soft's mom was speaking to them much softer. Shrugging his shoulders, he trotted out of the alley and back in the direction of Twilight's house.

Draco expected to get told off for being tardy. His own mother had always been upset with him when he was sneaking off to do things. About to knock, he realized that wasn't really right and just used his wing to grasp the handle and open the door.

"Welcome home!" Twilight had been in the process of preparing lunch. "Do you want something to eat?"

Hearing her voice coming from the kitchen, Draco closed the door behind him and walked through to find Twilight making some toast and baked beans. "I, uh, I was playing—"

Turning back and looking at him, Twilight smiled. "One of the few spell schools my daughter wasn't able to grasp was far-seeing. Apparently she got that from my husband's side. I only peeked long enough to see you were safe."

Staring, Draco couldn't stop thinking of the ramifications of that level of scrying. Of course, that reminded him how much raw power a unicorn could produce at any point in time. "You can scry that easily?"

"I can, though I wouldn't call it easy. The targeting matrix for a location and remote viewing spell-set is complex. You know"—Twilight finished pouring the beans over both plates and levitated them to the table—"you could probably do quite well learning some complex targeting spells that are simple. But first, we're going to study geography and spell-casting."

Using his wings to hold a knife and fork, Draco cut some of his toast off and piled it high with beans and sauce. He couldn't wait. This was something his mother had made for him on days when he was feeling down. The flavor of the fresh beans and the sauce shocked him into closing his eyes so he could focus more on the delicious meal.

"You like it? It's something I made Twily and Shiny when they needed a little cheering up. Come to think of it, my mother did the same for me." Not bothering to hide her own enjoyment of the simple food, Twilight did cheat and used her magic to pick up a piece of bean-laden toast.

Draco focused all his attention on eating. The food didn't exactly take long to finish, but he did spend some time scraping the bottom of the plate with his fork to get the last of the sauce. "How do you teach geography and spell-casting?"

Standing up and starting the parade of dishes to the sink, Twilight set her favorite cleaning spell going. "Sounds like you're done with lunch. If you need a drink of water, you can get one from the jug in the fridge. When you're ready, join me in the living room."

Getting up now he was out of porcelain to scrape, Draco walked to the fridge and opened it with a wing. Inside he found the jug of water and used it to fill a glass sitting conveniently on the bench. He had to rear up to reach, but it wasn't too hard. Walking to the living room, he took a sip from the glass and before he knew it, it was half empty.

"We were starting with a light spell last time, right?" Twilight asked. She reached out to float a magic textbook and a geography textbook to the second couch. "And where do you suppose light spells were perfected?"

Looking at the geography book, Draco climbed up on the couch and got comfortable. "Somewhere dark?"

Twilight wanted to shout in excitement at that level of logic, so she did. "Exactly! It was just north of Neighagra Falls, in the caves of those mountains where unicorns lived for a time, that the current series of light spells were perfected. Would you like to try casting it again for me?"

Drawing his wand out with a wing, Draco focused on the memory of the spell and started to form it.

Twilight interrupted Draco. "Wait. You've misshaped this corner. Try to focus again, and if you can't get this wiggle out, look it up and memorize it once more." 

When Draco just stared in surprise, Twilight produced the pattern for him. "Try making it with the weakest flow of magic you can, that will make it fill out with your magic but not actually cast."

Studying Twilight's spell, Draco did as she explained and formed the pattern in the air and fed it the smallest thread of magic he could. "Like that?"

"Perfect. Now give it all you've got."

The spell, when Draco fed it enough magic, almost drained him completely. The day before it had drained him completely—but now he had a little more in the tank. "Hey, I still have magic left over."

"That will be a combination of you using your magic up and your meditation. After we're done with spells, I'd like you to work on your meditation some more." Twilight moved to her next bookmark. "Okay, the next one is a spell to produce water. It looks like this."

Studying the next pattern, Draco said, "Oh, Bluebelle said I need to get some preening supplies. Something about I can't go using hers all the time."

"Indeed not. Perhaps we'll go after we're done with the spells. You have all evening to work on that meditation." Twilight held the water spell up easily, though the spell she was readying was a drying spell should Draco actually manage to cast it.





The trip to buy preening equipment was even odder than buying clothing. Draco had taken just the basic kit of brushes, combs, and tweezers, but Twilight had insisted he get a sample of each of the oils unscented so he could work out what he liked.

Now, sitting on the couch again, he tried to forget that he had what looked like a makeup kit sitting beside him. He especially focused on forgetting that it was his. 

It took time and focus to clear out the thoughts that continually tried to steal his focus, but one by one he purged them until he was down to just the breathing again. Once he was breathing slow and steady, then Draco started to cycle his magic out and in.

With each breath it became easier to just shut out the world and focus only on his magic—it also gave him time to reflect on his feelings and the day he'd just had.

Breakfast had been pretty good. Clothes shopping was just odd—though Draco could appreciate that he didn't look quite so much like a filly anymore. Not that he really understood what looking like a filly meant, apart from having a few more curves here and there and having eyelashes. He tucked away the idea of asking about eyelashes for later.

That's when he came to the preening. It was strange, but he could take Bluebelle's word that it was required because she seemed to know what she was talking about and had the respect of everyone. He couldn't help but compare her to Rubeus Hagrid—which seemed to be the exact opposite.

So he was up to thinking about Soft and Bright. They had been really good at playing ball and their magic was pretty good too. Draco couldn't help but think they'd both make great quidditch players.

They'd both just accepted him at his word when he said he wasn't a filly, and that was something that surprised Draco. Humans wouldn't. Humans always needed proof, but ponies trusted. It was a little crazy, seeming both good and bad. Draco was sure he could take advantage of that, but at the same time it would all backfire if he got caught.

Plus, given how much trust they'd shown him, Draco felt reluctant to do it.

And that led to the complication of lunch. Lunch had been amazing. With just one dish he'd been reminded of some of the best moments of his life with his mother. That finally broke him out of his focus. Crying, what Draco didn't expect was for Twilight to pull him into a hug.

There was nothing she could say to Draco, Twilight knew. Nothing she should say. All she could do is be ready for when he needed somepony to hold and be that pony. 

Every time Draco tried to move on—every time he tried to steer his thoughts away from his mother, another moment where they connected came to mind. He kept crying and crying until he ran out of tears and still stayed clinging to Twilight just sobbing.

After some time, Draco eventually managed to ask, "Will it get easier?" He sucked in air through his nose, resulting in a loud snorting noise. "Whenever I think about it getting easier, I realize it will mean I remember them less."

"There's room for another book in my collection." Twilight sometimes wished she had wings. She'd seen how effectively her daughter-in-law had used them to comfort ponies after the failed changeling invasion, and right now she thought it would be better if she could keep Draco at her side and gesture with her leg. Instead, she used her magic to sweep a pink glow around at the bookshelf. "If you'd care to write one?"

Draco froze at that. His mind hit the topic and started to pick it apart while he sat there. He'd never written a book before. In fact, he'd never so much as owned a diary before. He tilted his head down and looked at his hooves, then remembered they weren't the only limbs he had. "I—I could. How would I do it?"

A topic that Draco could work on and remember his parents with was—at least so far as Twilight thought—brilliant. "You will need to decide what kind of story it will tell. Will you tell it from your own point of view?"

"I think I should. It wouldn't feel right doing it another way. Should I start it from the first time I—I knew them?"

"That would be a good start. Every memory you have can be recorded and kept safe." Twilight levitated over a notepad and a pencil. "Why don't you try to come up with every instance you can of the earliest times you know them? Nothing is too early."

So Draco worked. He spent two whole hours just trying to come up with his earliest memories of his mother. He cried more, but he focused on writing everything down regardless. There was two whole pages filled with memories of his mother and father, and he felt good about that.

Running the feathers of his right wing over the first page, he let out a slow breath. "Pages won't forget them."

Lifting his head, Draco looked at Twilight. "Can you teach me more about magic?"





After another quiet evening and good breakfast, Draco spent most of the morning working on flight theory with Bluebelle. He had lunch with Twilight and went out to play some more ball with Soft and Bright.

When he found the alley again, Draco could see the two colts were talking about something. "Hey," he called.

Bright, the younger of the two colts, turned to face Draco. "Mom said you're a filly."

"I told her she was wrong," Soft said, walking over with the ball floating beside him in his magic. "She got annoyed I think."

"But you are a colt, right?" Bright asked.

There was a bunch of lies Draco could have used, but he didn't think he needed to. "Yeah. It's kinda complicated. There was an—an accident. I got turned into a filly and they can't turn me back, but I'm still a colt!" 

"So that's why Mom sent me to my room! I was right!" Soft stuck out his tongue at his brother. "See! I told you he was a colt!"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's play!" Bright used his magic to grab the ball from Soft and ran past Draco and Soft toward one end.

For Draco, it seemed such an easy way to describe his situation. An accident was what it was, and he'd been turned into a filly, but now he's a colt. It wasn't lying. Despite everything he'd been through at Hogwarts, he didn't feel like lying to Soft and Bright any more than he wanted to to Twilight and Night.

While playing, Draco continually came back to him not using his magic to play. He might not get the ball as often as the other two because of it, but every time he did, he scored with it. It wasn't so much that he was slightly smaller than them (he was, though), but he just felt light on his hooves whenever they tried to catch up to him.

But he knew what he should be doing. "I gotta go."

"What? Aww." Soft Cotton slumped his shoulders. "Is it about the thing earlier?"

"I didn't meant to! Mom was just—" Bright said.

"No. No really. I'm actually home from school on a three-month holiday, but there's all kinds of stuff I'm behind on, so I gotta learn it before I go back." He felt bad, leaving them without some kind of external force to break them up, but Draco wanted to get better at magic for many reasons, but one of the biggest was to be better at it than anyone back at Hogwarts.

"Ugh, school! Well, see you again tomorrow?" Bright asked, bouncing the ball he held a few times.

"Yeah! Same time again." Draco felt good about himself as he trotted back out into the street and made his way home. It was just as he reached the house that he realized he'd started to think of it as home—not because his parents were there, but because it was safe.

Opening the door, he was surprised to hear talking inside. "I'm home!"

"We're in the kitchen, dear. You can join us if you want, or spend some time working on your wings." Twilight shot her visitor a smile. When Draco poked his head around the doorway, Twilight turned her smile on him instead. "Take a seat, dear. I believe you know Celestia?"

"Hello, Draco." Celestia, having finally gotten Twilight to drop her titles, hoped she could manage the same with Draco.

Draco moved like in a dream, taking a seat at the table. "P-P-P—"

"Just call me Celestia, please?"

Nodding slowly, Draco took a deep breath, pulling in magic, then let it out again on his exhale. "Celestia"—Draco wasn't sure about using a royal's name on its own, but she didn't seem to be smiting him—"I, uh, I'm not sure what—Hi?"

"We were just having some tea and talking about a few things." Twilight used her magic to fetch the pitcher of apple juice from the fridge and a glass for Draco. "And I think you might be able to have some insight on that. Do you think Hogwarts would accept ponies as students?"

The question was a little confusing at first. Draco had just started really thinking of ponies as wizards and witches that his first thought was why wouldn't they? However, he could see problems. "Unicorn foals would need to learn a very chaotic way of making magic happen. I've only been reading about unicorn magic for a few days, and I can already tell it's far more precise than Earth magic.

"Then, if the student isn't a unicorn, they're going to need a wand. Honestly, I think you'd be better off sticking to pegasi at first. Earth magic uses a lot of gestures and waving motions, and I don't know if a hoof could manage them."

Pouring Draco a glass of juice, Twilight gave Celestia a knowing look. She'd spend the better part of an hour explaining that Draco was far smarter than what even he knew—now she was sure Celestia saw the proof of that.

"That's a very good assessment. I would rather put far less strain on their wand-stores. How many do they keep for such students?" Using her own magic, Celestia lifted her cup of tea and took a sip. She also floated one of Twilight's little cakes over to Draco on a plate.

"I don't know how many wands they have, but they had one for the Ronald Weasley." The name came from Draco with a little more snark than he'd intended. "Sorry, I just don't know much about that kind of thing."

"Perfectly alright, Draco. Twilight has been telling me you've been working on unicorn magic. How is that working for you?" Celestia was caught between a rock and a hard place. On one side she has her principles in not wanting to make use of a foal for political ends, and on the other she had a nation to run and political connections she felt a need to make.

"It's hard. Unicorn magic uses a lot more—well—magic. Twilight taught me some meditation to help build up my magic store and help me control how much I use. She also taught me a few spells." Feeling the slight tension in the room, Draco was sure it was all his fault somehow. After all, he was the only (ex) human present. "I can do a light spell, but I'd really like to learn telekinesis."

"You have your wings, though. Why would you want telekinesis as well?" Celestia asked.

"There's, uh, two friends I play ball with. They're both unicorns, and magic is allowed in the game, but they said I can't fly—not that I can fly yet anyway. If I could use telekinesis, I could play the game properly."

"That's my fault." Twilight sipped her tea. "The fact is, there is no pattern for telekinesis. It's the simplest spell of all. Can you make a light pattern for me?"

Reaching into the wand sheath in his cloak, Draco drew out his wand and put together the light pattern. He'd spent most of the night and morning focusing on the pattern, and was happy to see Twilight's nod of approval.

"Now, remove all but one point. Like this." Forming up a light pattern, Twilight took it apart until only a single point existed. It was an actual struggle for Twilight not to immediately activate her telekinesis because the power level for the spell was so low.

Draco followed the direction and made his pattern into a point. "Like this?"

"Exactly. Unlike light, telekinesis will constantly draw magic, though most find that their magic replenishes faster than telekinesis will use it. However, lifting heavy things or trying to lift yourself will drain you much faster." Twilight pushed just a little more magic and her horn started to glow.

When Draco pushed a little magic to his horn, the spell sucked hard. He panicked at first, but realized he was replenishing faster than he was using it. His wand was also glowing a white-silver chatter of magic. "Is this right?"

"Perfect! Now, try to pick up that cake off the plate there. Just think about holding the cake gently on each side, then apply less force to the top and more to the bottom." Cakes, Twilight realized, were a great first target for telekinesis. Not only was he going to be unable to break the cake in any way that would cause damage, but he would naturally be very careful of it.

Slowly focusing on the cake, the first thing Draco did was squeeze too hard and start to squish it. He rallied, though, and pictured a safe box around the cake. Then he realized it didn't need a top since it wouldn't fall out of the top.

Celestia spotted the problem just as Draco made it. Her quick reaction meant that she protected the ceiling, walls, herself, and Twilight from getting painted with squished cake. Draco himself, however, was another question.

"What happened?" Draco asked, using the expedient of being layered in a thin film of cake to justify licking his lips. The cake, of course, was delicious.

"It's a common mistake among new unicorns. You pictured a box, yes?" Celestia waited for Draco to nod. "And you thought, I don't need the lid! right?" Another nod. "The box you made was actually the limit of how far you were going to push. When you removed the limit on the top, it pressed down and against the inner limits with all the force it could—liquefying the cake."

Draco was about to complain that she should have told him that before he tried, but then he remembered how it had been in Hogwarts and was thankful that it was only cake and not some life-or-death situation. "You, uh, know a lot about teaching foals magic?"

Twilight giggled—it was impossible not to. "Draco, the most prestigious school in Equestria is named after Celestia not just because she's princess, but because she teaches there. She was my teacher."

It was a fair bit to take in. The ruler of Equestria was also a teacher. "Oh. We, uh, don't do things that way. Can I try again?"

Given some of the cake had made it into mouths, Celestia opted not to try to reconstruct it from all the pieces. Instead, she picked up another piece and set it on a plate for Draco. "You seem in good hooves here."

This time Draco picked up the cake by making a full cube around it. Now that he could picture the edges of the cube as limiting his grip, it became far easier to understand how his way of doing magic worked. "How do I make a side I'm not pushing on at all?"





Learning magic, learning how to manipulate the magic he stored, and how to manipulate the flow of magic into him. It was a heady mix, and made the magic of wizards and witches seem almost barbaric by comparison.

Draco sat at the desk in his bedroom and wrote more of what he remembered about his parents (struggling at times to keep his tears at bay), but when he had two pages written he felt there was more he wanted to write.

Pulling out a slip of paper, he started to write of his time in Canterlot. As he wrote, he kept questioning motives and double-thinking everything that had happened. Without a pony there with him, he felt his mind drifting back to the old way of thinking. 

Using his wand, Draco picked the piece of paper up with some telekinesis and then removed all six barriers around his grip. The paper became smashed together into a tiny cube, and with a little more effort he shrank that cube smaller still. "Mum, Dad, I don't like being that person anymore. I like—I like being a pony."

Crushing the cube a little more, Draco released his grip and let the tiny pea of paper drop into his feathers before he dumped that in the wastepaper basket. He turned from the desk, stripped off his cloak and climbed into bed without another word.





Morning came, as it inexorably did. Draco woke with warm memories of dreams that were slowly fading from his mind. A small part of him wondered why he had no nightmares of his parents deaths, but like the dreams themselves, that part of him retreated from the warm sunshine that poured into his room through the window.

Pulling a cloak on, Draco raced downstairs for breakfast, kept food in his mouth while Twilight and Night spoke of the day to come, and when it came time for him to go to his flying training, he raced out the door and into a gallop.

Running through the streets of Canterlot, Draco felt that solitary sensation that reminded him of Hogwarts as far away as he thought it could ever get. Even though he wasn't actually talking to anypony, just having them there helped him be what he felt was his better self.

"There he is! Cadet Draco!" Bottle Rocket snapped a salute at Draco, and was happy to watch him slide to a halt before her to salute back. "Sergeant Bluebelle is waiting over on training field three, cadet."

On Earth, Draco hadn't ever thought much about the military. They were below his family's standing, after all. One of the things he had been sure of, though, was that the army was full of male muggles with muggle weapons.

Equestria's military was far different. Earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi of both sexes meant that the E.U.P. Guard was not just packed with mares and stallions, but every one of them seemed to understand not just what magic was, but also how to use it.

A whole nation of magic users was such an amazing thing to Draco. His father had been against the separation of muggles and wizards, or so Draco had heard, but here none of that mattered because there weren't any muggles at all. Everypony could learn their own magic if they wanted.

He trotted right up to Bluebelle on the training field and gave her another salute that he hoped was close to being right. "Today's the day, right?"

Returning Draco's salute, Bluebelle walked slowly toward the edge of the practice field. Being one designed for pegasi, this field was about a quarter of the size of most of the rest, and she made her way over and looked down. "You've tried gliding."

Draco nodded. The previous day she'd had him try gliding, and even though he'd wanted to flap, he wanted to learn how to fly properly so he'd just glided around.

"Perfect. Well, there's about thirty seconds of drop before you hit anything here, so let's go."

Unprepared to have a wing scoop him forward, Draco had barely a second of shock to realize how out of balance he was before there was no ground under him anymore—well, none immediately under him. 

Bluebelle kept moving after pushing Draco off Canterlot. She fell forward and stopped into a dive, but had to snap her wings out quickly because Draco had spread his barely two seconds into his fall. Matching her speed to his, she glided beside him. "Okay, so you have gliding and a good head on your shoulders. Try giving them a flap and see how it feels."

Draco's senses were all buzzing. He looked down, but the distance below him didn't seem that worrying. He'd flown higher on a broom and hadn't been afraid. "Okay, let me try to—" As he started to pull his wings up, it was like a lightning bolt of inspiration hit him. Draco pumped his wings once, twice, and on the third time he was back above the edge of Canterlot again.

"Ha! Knew you were a natural. Okay, keep away from the edge and let's fly around the city. This way." Running through Bluebelle's head was the surprise that a creature born without wings took to them so quickly. 

It didn't take Draco long to understand how the angle of his feathers and his wing positions gave him various amounts of lift, drag, or glide. He started experimenting with doing what amounted to aileron rolls and even a loop. By the time they circled to the opposite side of the city, though, his wings were starting to feel a little tired.

"Land over here." Bluebelle gestured to a grassy area where the mountain met the huge enchanted plate the city sat on. She landed first, bringing her back hooves down and back-winging to stop her motion and drop easily to the ground.

Watching Bluebelle, Draco tried to the same landing and almost nailed it perfectly. A breeze came in under his wings at the last moment and, with his wings fanned forward to slow him, he got blown backwards as his feathers caught the wind under them.

Draco didn't panic. He knew what was behind him was just empty air, and when one back hoof found no solid ground under it, he brought his wings out wide, set his feathers, and pumped down hard.

"Smart thinking," Bluebelle said, and waited to see what Draco would do next.

What he did was get about two ponylengths in the air and then slowly glide down to land beside her. "Did I mess that up?"

"Yes and no. Mostly no, but a little yes. When you back-wing like that, you need to angle your feathers to stop cupping air as fast as you can. The moment you have your speed arrested, you want to let go of the air." Bluebelle noticed the expression Draco held when he was absorbing information and smiled. "What you did after that, though, was one-hundred-percent pegasus. You didn't panic—even when your hoof came down on empty air—and just spread your wings to get to safety."

"Safety?" Draco thought about what had happened and then laughed. "The air!"

"That's it. While a pegasus is in the air, they're safe. The higher the better. There's not much that can harm you up there, not with a little training." Bluebelle started to walk through the grass toward the nearest street. "Your wings are tired though, right?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, they don't feel sore, just—just tired."

"That's normal for a colt your age. You'll feel ready for more in about half hour. Twilight already knows you can ask for flying breaks. I want you flying at least three times a day outside of the time you spend with me. Work your wings until you feel like you do now." Nodding in the direction of Draco's home, Bluebelle spread her wings. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Draco watched as Bluebelle soared into the sky with less apparent effort than it would for him to take a step. His heart pounded as, several seconds later, he realized he could fly. Not just glide. Not just ride a broomstick. "I can fly."





Days flowed by like water. Draco learned more about flying in just over two months than he'd learned in all the time he'd ridden a broom, and he also had a far deeper understanding not just of magic theory, but how magic could be used.

"Why should I even go back to Hogwarts?" Draco asked, folding up his clothes and stuffing them in a chest.

"Because despite how much you've learned here, it's smart to learn other ways to do things. You have history and heritage among the others from Earth, you need to absorb that." Wishing she wasn't on the verge of telling him to just stay, Twilight looked at the silver feather she held in her magic. 

There was an odd feeling in the feather that made Twilight's magic tingle. It was a pegasus feather—one of Draco's—but there was something more about it that she couldn't quite put her hoof on. She tried to review what she'd done that had given her that same tingle.

"Well, at least I have something better to wear than all those annoying and overcomplicated robes." Not that Draco wasn't packing them, too, but he'd found that between his coat and the light jackets he wore, even the high-altitude chill of Canterlot wasn't a bother.

That's when Twilight's eye landed on Draco's wand. He was holding it in one wing and using it with a telekinesis spell to pack his bag, but it was the wand itself she was interested in. "Draco, put down your things for a moment and set your wand down on the bed."

"But I—" Draco reminded himself quickly that Twilight knew a lot more than he did about magic. Putting the shirt of his uniform into his trunk, he set his wand down on the bed. "Okay, now what?"

"Close your eyes and I'll pass you another wand. One I've been working on." Experiments, Twilight knew, sometimes needed blind trials—a term she found appropriate right now. When Draco closed his eyes, she slipped the stem of his feather into his outstretched wing's grip. "Now, try casting a simple light sp—" She didn't get any further because Draco's feather, in his own grip, started glowing.

"This isn't as good as my wand for focusing magic, but I can feel it working. What is it?" Opening his eyes, Draco stared at his feather. "Wait—"

"Feathers work like wands," they both said together.

When Draco recovered from the revelation, he focused his magic down one of the feathers he'd been thinking of as fingers and made another telekinesis spell—then picked up his feather from his own grip and carried it over to Twilight. "Well, this is going to make doing simple magic easier. I'll need to work on my magic capacity more."

"We make a startling discovery that could change magic as we know it in Equestria, and you want to focus on more meditation. Your name will be a co-author on this research paper, Draco Malfoy, I promise you that." Twilight took the feather from him, now an item she thought quite precious, and started heading downstairs. "When you're finished with that, we have one last thing to discuss."

Speeding up his packing, Draco heard a knock on the front door downstairs. Leaving his wand on the bed, Draco tried casting a second telekinesis with another feather. He managed it, moving and folding things even faster, but he also started to feel like his reserves were going down.

Pausing a moment, Draco had a new idea to try. With his two-feather-wands trick working, he started to practice one of the more advanced meditations where he opened himself as much as possible to magic. 

It kept up, barely. He was able to hold two light objects at the same time and couldn't feel any depletion of his magic. But, it took all his focus to manage the magic inrush, and he also made sure to only hold two similar items.

"This is really weird, Bess, but I think I'm getting the hang of it." The elephant in the room of Draco's mind, however, was his impending return to Hogwarts. "Maybe I can lie and tell them I figured out how to turn into a colt?"

For her part, Bess just flicked her tongue out to satisfy herself that Draco was still Draco, before coiling her way up his leg and to his shoulder.

Stretching his wing out, Draco let Bess coil around and under it as he folded it back down—giving her a warm home to rest and letting him fly if he really needed to. "Or I just bluster. Dare them to say otherwise and challenge them to duels. I'd need to practice my stunners more—" The worst bit was Draco knew exactly which student to ask to practice stunning spells with. 

"Draco, would you like to come downstairs? We have a visitor," Twilight said from the doorway.

"I'm all packed. Should I bring my luggage down?" Shifting his wing a little to get Bess settled, Draco climbed off the bed and picked up his wand to levitate the steamer trunk from the floor enough to carry it.

"Probably for the best. We'll be leaving in an hour." Twilight stepped back from the doorway to make room for Draco. She fought the urge to pick up his luggage herself and just let him lead the way back downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs Draco saw Night talking with Celestia. He froze a moment before pushing on and walking into the room with his trunk. "Uh, hi."

Celestia gave her most reassuring—she hoped—smile and gestured with a wing toward the front door. "Hello again, Draco. Would you like to come outside with me to have a little talk?"

Letting go of the luggage, Draco looked back at Twilight before shrugging his shoulders and following Celestia out into the street. The noise of the city poured in around them, but when Draco expected ponies to notice that their ruler was among them, none seemed to. "Y-You wanted to talk?"

"I did. When you first came here to stay, nearly three months ago, Twilight Velvet contacted me to ensure you would have somewhere to stay even if you disliked her home." Celestia had a mild enchantment to make her look like a pegasus instead of her alicorn self—she mostly used it when she wanted to not get mobbed on the street.

It surprised Draco to hear that. "She didn't want me to live at her home? Or do you mean something different?" 

"The exact opposite, actually. She was worried you wouldn't like living in her home. She arranged for you to have Equestrian citizenship and, should you want it, a home of your own within Canterlot." Walking to the nearest intersection, Celestia headed for a little park off the main road. "Do you like living with Twilight and Night?"

"I haven't spent much time talking to Night, but he seems okay. Twilight is amazing, though. What she doesn't know about magic, she has a book about. When I was feeling bad about being turned into a—into a filly, she told me I could just be a colt. She even got me flying lessons." The words tumbled out. Draco just let them flow because if there was one thing Twilight had managed to instill in him in just three months, it was that he could be honest and not get punished for it. "I guess—Yeah, I do like living here."

"And you'd like to continue living here when you're done with your next semester of Hogwarts?"

It didn't surprise Draco how much the idea of not spending his next school break here hurt. Twilight had so much more to teach him and he wanted to practice flying more and learn everything he could about living in a city of magic users. "Y-Yes!"

"That's settled then. You will come back at Hearth's Warming, the train is running regularly now, and that means you can spend time here whenever you're not at Hogwarts." Celestia raised her only visible eyebrow. "Does that suit you?"

Draco stopped and thought about it. It meant stepping away from the wizards and witches living in the Crystal Empire and living more like a pony. After three months of doing that, he felt better about himself than he had in all his time at Hogwarts. "Yeah."

"Then I will ensure that is what is done." Celestia turned around and started leading the way back to the house. "Would you like to tell them yourself?"

The idea just telling someone he wants to move into their house caused more than a little British panic. Shaking his head, Draco was relieved to see Celestia nod.

"I'll tell them." Walking back to the house, Celestia knocked on the door politely when they reached it.

When the door opened, Draco saw Twilight standing there, looking at him, with concern in her eyes. It was the first time she'd been anything but the confident and knowledgeable mare he'd spent so much time with. He couldn't help himself, rushing forward and rearing up at the last moment to hug her. "I want to stay."

Twilight let out a sigh and put a foreleg around Draco. "You're always welcome here, Draco."





As the train approached the Crystal Empire stop, Draco tilted his wing up and poked his snout gently at Bess—who flicked his nose with her tongue to show she was still perfectly alright. "She doesn't like the cold. I might have to make her a little sock to wear."

"She's a very curious little snake." Twilight looked at the small reptile. "She often had opinions on how I should clean up your room. We came to an agreement when she learned I could make the whole bed warm with a spell."

"I'll have to learn that one when I'm home next." It might have surprised Draco a little, calling Twilight's house home, but it felt right enough. The train jerked and shuddered as it stopped at the station.

Her plans already in motion, Twilight just smiled at the comment. "Are you alright with the trunk?" She stood up and turned for the door just behind them.

"I can handle it. It's probably easier to just use a Levitation spell." Draco used his left wing and longest feather to sketch the spell in the air, then he channeled magic through it and spoke the spell aloud. The huge old chest rose slowly from the floor and required only the lightest touch of his telekinesis to move.

Observing Draco mixing pony and wizard magic, Twilight made her way to the door and stepped off the train. Plenty of other ponies were disembarking from other cars, and some from the other end of her own, but she made sure to step to the side to let Draco off. "Quite warm. I thought it was supposed to be cold up here?"

"It was a few months ago, when I left." Stepping off the train and pushing his luggage ahead, Draco spotted the edge of the huge, shimmering barrier not far from the station. "And it was warmer inside the barrier."

The walk through the city to the huge castle in the center was relaxing, and Twilight admired the city's layout and construction and discussed it with Draco. She knew he didn't really care, but appreciated him making remarks. 

Facing the castle itself, Twilight paused and turned to Draco. "Are you ready?"

Draco nodded, then shook his head. "They're going to call me a girl."

"Just tell them you're not. Anypony who keeps saying it isn't worth being your friend."

The advice, Draco knew, was right for ponies. If he stopped talking to a pony because of something they'd said, they would ask him about it and try to be friends again. Wizards and witches, he knew, would take more work. "Yeah, but that's not how humans work."

"Then beat them at their own game. Make your friendship something they value." When Draco shot her a surprised look, Twilight asked, "Did you think I wouldn't pick up on that?"

"Wizards and witches are basically—If something doesn't benefit them, they see no value in it. And Slytherin house is the worst for it. Can you guess what house I'm in?"

"You'll find something that they will want. Make them respect you enough to call you a colt and you've beaten them." Twilight moved when Draco did, walking beside him as they neared the guarded entrance of the castle.

"Are you here for the school or the castle?"

Twilight gave the guard her best smile. "The school first, then the castle. How do we—" She stopped when she saw Draco approaching some stairs to the side. "I believe he knows the way. Thank you."

Trotting to catch up to Draco, Twilight cleared her throat. "Could you show me where to find Headmistress McGonagall?" Hogwarts interior was shocking to Twilight's senses. The stairs seemed constantly moving, and there was a constant sense of magic-going-wrong that she couldn't shake.

"Yeah. It's this way." Draco knew the stairs well enough to lead the way up to the office he knew as Minerva McGonagall's. 

"This castle is very strange. I have to wonder if it isn't training for the strange way wizard magic works?" Stepping off the stairs and into a hallways, Twilight saw an upright-standing pony at the end of the hall wearing a dress as if she were bipedal. "Excuse me?"

Minerva turned at the voice and spotted Draco Malfoy walking beside a mare. She turned to face the pair. "You'll have to excuse the mess, I'm in the process of moving."

"That's her," Draco said, keeping pace with Twilight and nudging the luggage along.

"Headmistress McGonagall?" Twilight asked. At a nod, she continued. "My name is Twilight Velvet, I came to return Draco to your care."

Caught a little off-guard by the pronouncement, Minerva reached up with one hoof to adjust her glasses a touch higher so she could see things in her near-field. "I see. Is she doing well? You have all your things from the booklist?"

Twilight looked to Draco to see how he would react.

"E-Excuse me. I'm a colt, not a filly." As he spoke, Draco felt new certainty fill him. "I made a mistake before, right after I turned into a pony."

Minerva wasn't blind—not with her glasses on at least. She could see the soft lines of a filly in Draco, now that she knew what a filly looked like. "Am I to understand you found a method of transfiguring yourself?" Excitement buzzed through Minerva. She reasoned that if a student could manage even a slight change, she would surely be able to at least give herself hands.

Twilight wanted to wade into the conversation, but before she could come up with a calm way to tell the witch no, Draco started to speak.

"No. It's not that. It just doesn't feel right that I be a filly, so I decided I'm a colt." There was a spark of uncertainty in Draco, not for how he felt on the subject, but that he could explain it to Minerva.

The concept was novel to Minerva, if nothing else. In her time, whenever a wizard or witch felt as Draco did, they just used magic to go ahead and fix the problem. "I see. I'll continue my efforts toward finding a way to perform transfiguration magic on crystal ponies."

A thrill of victory ran through Draco. "I have all my booklist items."

"Excellent. Well, you best go to Slytherin common room and get comfortable. There are several other students already here." Minerva felt the conversation was at its end and turned back to her office and the pile of things she needed to haul up the secret stairwell to the headmaster's office.

"Would you like some help moving these things?" Twilight asked.

"Err. You can—?"

Before she got more than that, and wanting to show off for Draco's benefit, Twilight stepped over and poked her head in the room. "Where do you want them?"

Minerva didn't like being caught so off-guard. She fought for composure while also keeping the same stony exterior she always maintained. "In my new office at the top of the stairs at the end of the hall." No sooner had she said it than her furniture started to pop out of existence one by one. "Thank you."

Seeing such a display of magic carried out with precision and apparently lack of effort almost made Draco giggle. He knew there had been a lot of math and energy involved—and he was determined to learn all of it. "I'll put my things away now."
> Ginny Weasley
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Without anyone opening her covers, Ginny harrumphed a little. Her world was limited to the contents of the book, but that didn't mean she couldn't do anything. Everything that Tom Riddle had learned up until his sixth year at Hogwarts was within the pages, and while Ginny was excited enough to learn magic, some of what Tom had learned disgusted her.

There was, however, a lot of what he learned that intrigued Ginny. The problem was for her that the diary was written chronologically, and to keep studying the vast knowledge that Tom had gained, she had to study every aspect of his personal self and his research.

She was just about to start working on learning what Tom had discovered about curses in his third year when someone opened her up.



Hello?





Hi, Ginny, it's Ron. Do you want to talk? Only, Mum said we shouldn't bother you if you don't want to talk, but I figured you'd want to since—



Ginny could practically hear her littlest-big-brother stammering on and on.



I want to talk, Ron. Your handwriting's getting better.



It was, too. Compared with how well he'd written with a pen strapped to his hoof, his current writing was actually legible to Ginny.



Thanks. I've been practicing and I think pony mouths might actually be good for this kind of thing. Dad's out looking for the right place to put the farm down while Mum seems to be pulling pots and pans out of her bag so she can make dinner for everyone over an open fire.



It sounded cozy to Ginny, and a pang of desire to be herself again threatened to overwhelm her. It wasn't fair that an ancient pony had stolen her body and left her a disembodied ghost stuck in a book, and she screamed that into the endless void that existed just beyond the covers of the book.



Are you alright, Ginny?





NO!



Ginny kept screaming the word, not caring who could or would listen. She screamed it until it had no meaning anymore and was just a noise. She kept screaming until she heard crying. The sound, so sharp and so raw, broke through her rage and loss because it was a sound from outside the book.

Scrubbing all her pages clear of the inky mess she'd made of them, Ginny tried to get through to her brother.



Ron? Please, don't cry.



But the crying didn't stop, and worse, it made her cry too.



Ron? Please, Ron, I didn't mean to shout.



"What's going on? Ronald Weasley, what's the meaning of this?"

It was their mother. Ginny cried more for knowing her big brother got caught crying because of her.



It was my fault, Mum.



"Here. That's Ginny's book. What have you been talking about?"

Concern weighed heavily in her mother's voice, and Ginny wanted to feel a hug so much it hurt.



Mum, I just got overwhelmed and… Ron got worried. Please don't punish him.



"Ginny was upset, Mum. I'm alright. I was cryin' for her." Ron's voice shook a little. "Really. I mean, she can't when she's stuck in that book, so I figured I can."

A carefully measured sigh left Molly Weasley. "I'm glad you love your sister that much."

The sound of footsteps leaving was all the information Ginny got that someone had walked away from her.



Ron?



"Yeah, I'm here. I kinda forgot you can hear what I say. Do you mind if I just talk?" Ron's voice still sounded a little rough.



Can you help me with something?



"Ginny, you know you can rely on"—Ron made a loud snorting sound, the kind most males make when dealing with a bout of crying they weren't prepared for—"on me."



Let me explain it before you commit to this. When Harry and me were in the Chamber of Secrets, Tom (that's Voldemort) was draining my life so that he could exist outside the book. Like a really clever poltergeist that's actually me.

When he did it, it was killing me, but I think with all the extra magic here it could work much safer. But there's no guarantee of that. If we are going to do this, we need Mum and Dad to help.



"If this does anything else weird to me, you'll never hear the end of it. But, I'll talk to Mum and Dad about it. Probably Dad, since he won't yell at me so much. Sorry about earlier."

Despite having spent a school year putting up with her big brother putting her down for hanging around him too much, it was a bit of a surprise to have her cool big brother back. A good surprise.



Okay. I'll try to work more on this stuff to find out how Tom did it. Thanks, Ron.



"So, uh, what do you plan to do when school goes back?"

That was a question and a half for Ginny. She was pretty sure she could ace second year with everything she'd learned from being in Tom's place in the book-school, but his extracurricular activities had started becoming more the focus of his study.



I don't know. Maybe I can work out how to do this poltergeist thing and can go to classes like that.



"It's getting kinda late. Mum was just checking to see what was up. We're sleeping in the big tent Dad borrowed for the big quidditch game that was going to happen. I guess that's been called off. Did you want me to put you out in the common room so I don't bug you with my snoring?"

A new fear flooded in. Without someone to open her book and read her messages, all Ginny could hope for was a long life stuck inside the book with Tom Riddle's lessons playing out.



No! I mean, can you just put me near your bed somewhere? Is there a bookshelf in here?



For a soft moment Ginny was afraid Ron had already put her outside somewhere. Panic rose and she was just about to scream onto the pages when she heard a movement.

"Yeah, there's a bookshelf in here, Ginny. You're going to have to put up with my snoring all night. I kept trying to tell Harry I don't snore, but then he used a spell to record it and there's no getting around that."

Ginny had to figuratively bite her lip to keep from laughing onto her pages.



Good night, Ron.



"Good night, Ginny."

She felt the soft sound of her book being put down on a shelf, heard Ron walking across the room and getting into bed, and not a minute later his snoring started. It was music and warmth dressed as nasal cavity distress.





With the comforting, echoey snores of Ron to keep her sane, Ginny decided to tackle some third year, but that meant she had to work through it chronologically—and that resulted in her starting off the year as Tom arriving off the train to find his "friends" waiting for him.

It would have been easier to imagine them as humans if she had a proper view of each one, but all Tom ever saw when he looked at them was pawns. They were weak-willed or strong of magic, some both, but they were all loyal to him.

Loyalty, Ginny knew, came in the form of respect and admiration—but Tom claimed it with fierce aggression and held it with fear and terror. She had to sit through it all, watching as each toady would fawn over him and his ideas. The ideas might have been brilliant, but some of them were also horrible.

Curses were Tom's main focus. He seemed to have books upon books of information about them. Much as Ginny wanted to study other things, and not specifically curse spells, they were something for her to learn while she let his memories play out.

So she started with the fast-casting curses, like Tom did. Swift things that confuddle and confuse or just put someone off balance. Here, in the book, she didn't get tired from practicing magic and could work all day and all night on getting her form and style perfect.

Tom was an orphan, or so Ginny learned. He was frequently among the first to arrive at Hogwarts each year, and that meant several days of being there without anything to do. But Tom never wasted time, not anymore. He was in the library to research spells and often had to steal books that he knew he wouldn't be able to borrow.

The knowledge of all those books was in the diary with Ginny. She sat down at a library desk—same as Tom—and read about curses to trip, curses to twinge the muscles in a wrist so they would drop a wand, curses to cause someone's eyes to blink and blind them for moments, and more curses besides. Tom loved curses.

For any other wizard, knowing they were learning in the footsteps of Lord Voldemort would inspire the deepest hatred of the diary, but Ginny could look past Tom's emotions and designs—a spell was a spell was a spell.

Third year started and she found herself focused on Potions, Dueling, Divination, and (with deep irony) Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Potions turned out to be another thing Tom was good at. He learned about many Potions, and with more time than was in the world, Ginny did too.

Divination seemed unrelated to what Tom wanted, and it soon became clear to Ginny why he'd taken it—he could convince the teacher he was actually participating and then spend the entire class studying absolutely anything else.

Defense Against the Dark Arts almost seemed to be the opposite of what it intended. Tom spent all his time studying the defenses taught and explored curses and potions to overcome those defenses and spells. In short, Ginny realized he used the class to know his enemy.

Dueling, though, was where Tom actually had time to enjoy himself. It wasn't one of the normal electives, but instead was a special class thought up by the head of house Slytherin—Walburga Black. Tom had to work extra hard for the woman, however, because nothing was ever good enough when it came from a non-pure-blood.

She personally used Tom as a whipping boy to teach the others how to use curses to disrupt and humiliate, and though Ginny could feel his hatred for her simmer, he studied the art all the harder because he recognized someone who was a master at something he wanted to learn.

The pure-blood comments from the witch were something that always helped Ginny through the harsh lessons. Walburga would lash out with snide comments as often as spells meant to impede her, and all the comments did was remind Ginny that she was one thing Tom or Voldemort could never be—she was a pure-blood witch.

She was getting through the classes and spending a little time on the side, perfecting the things even Tom struggled to get right given the limited time he had for school, when she heard the snoring stop about halfway through her second day of third year.

"Ugh. This bed is the worst." Ron's words came swiftly followed by a fart and a soft laugh.

Ginny couldn't believe her brother, though she could just ignore it since she was the intruder here. She ducked back into her study to finish off the second day by the time she heard Ron pick her book up off the shelf he'd put it on.



Good morning, Ron!



It felt so good to be with her family. Even if she couldn't hug them and smell them and— Ginny realized that, given Ron's earlier flatulence, not smelling might be a blessing.

"Morning, Ginny. Did you sleep—uh. Do you sleep?" A yawn might have cut him off mid-thought, but Ron got back to it afterward.



I don't really sleep in here. What I did was do the first two days of third year at Hogwarts.



"Wait, you're studying in there? How's that work?"

Such a normal conversation, compared to what Tom did when talking to people, was a relief.



Well, Tom went to Hogwarts for six years. He wrote so much of it in this journal that it just absorbed the whole thing. I can walk around Hogwarts, at least anywhere he walked, and study anything he studied.



"Uh, Ginny? Isn't Tom—Isn't he he who should not be named?"

Ginny hadn't specifically thought about it, but she did think there was a logical way to examine the situation.



When everyone came back to Equestria, did anyone see him come through?



"Well, no."



So he's still on Earth. I don't think he can hurt us here.



"I guess. But here, doesn't that mean you're learning what he who—you know who—learned? When he was our age, anyway."

It all seemed irrelevant to Ginny. She would learn what she could and ignore the rest. But that wasn't what Tom did, was it? He learned all the tricks that could be deployed against the dark arts and turned them around. She found herself smiling at the idea of it.



Ron, did you know he studied Defense Against the Dark Arts?



"What?! Why would he do that?"



Because he wanted to know how people would try to stop him from using the dark arts, and used it to practice ways to get by their defenses.



There was a lot of quiet. Ginny was about to ask if Ron was okay when she heard him inhale to speak.

"So you're doing the same? Studying how he learned to use dark magic so you can learn how to fight it?"



Exactly! Plus he didn't just learn dark magic. Did you know he trained for dueling? Lots of easy-to-use curses in that.



The sound of air rushing confused Ginny, until she realized Ron had tossed her down somewhere. Given there was no sound of contact, she had to assume it was the bed.



Ron? Did you just throw me on the bed?



There was no reply except for the rustling of clothes. A nervous thought hit Ginny and she wondered what Ron was doing. She decided, in the end, that she would wonder and get some work done.

The night of Tom's second day of Hogwarts third year was not something Ginny was prepared for. His studies had uncovered a spell called the Cruciatus Curse. Ginny knew of it, but Tom wanted to test it out. His first target was a rat.

Ginny didn't want to cast it. It was one of those bad things you don't do, but because Tom Riddle cast the spell, and because she was experiencing six years at Hogwarts as Tom Riddle, Ginny Weasley performed the spell and watched as the rat began to writhe and scream in agony.

"GINNY!"

Ron's shout snapped Ginny out of the moment and she was able to pull back from the book's grip.



Sorry, Ron. I was distracted.



"More than bloody distracted. Read your pages."

Ginny's heart froze as she read her pages.



No!

Please Don't!

Don't Hurt It!

STOP!

I Don't Want This!

Why Do You Hate It?!



Her pages were full of the words begging the book to stop and let the rat live.



Sorry, Ron. I guess that's a good sign that I'm not going to fall into Tom's mindset.



If she still had a human body, Ginny would have been shaking. Tom's thoughts and his methods were just wrong to her. He never considered the feelings of others except as a puzzle to solve if he wanted something from them.

"What was it?"



He learned the Cruciatus Curse and used it on a rat. I couldn't stop thinking of Scabbers.



She heard Ron's gasp at the mention of his old rat.

"What's going on in here?"

Ginny easily recognized her mother's voice and quickly scrubbed all her pages clean.

"Nuffin', Mum. I was just talking to Ginny about how she's going figuring out this book. She said she wants to try using my magic to let her pop out for a cup of tea."

Despite her inner giggling, Ginny realized that Ron hadn't mentioned her studying, Tom, or the Cruciatus Curse. On top of that, he was asking about getting me the ghost-spell-thing.

"We can talk about that after breakfast. Come on—and bring Ginny with you."

Once the sound of their mother's footsteps left the room, Ginny heard Ron say, "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave you behind."



Thanks, Ron!



She wasn't sure if he'd seen her reply, but just knowing he'd grabbed her was reassuring.

None of the lessons had grabbed her focus quite like Tom's first time casting the Cruciatus Curse. She'd always felt in control, but Tom had been so fixated and so intent on the rat's screams that it must have been a vivid memory that he wrote a lot down about.

"There she is," George said. "Hey, Ron, how'd you sleep?"

"I couldn't get a wink," Fred said. "Mostly because there was some kind of dragon in the room beside us all night. I swear! It musta been huge!"

Their mother's exasperated sigh was evident even to Ginny. "Lay off, you two. Here, Arthur, have you found us a place yet?"

"That's what I intend to do today. This tent is cozy, but I'd really like a hot cup of tea."

Her dad's voice soothed Ginny more than she could believe. She relaxed and listened to her family talk about their sleep and what they were going to do. Ron kept the most quiet of all of them, though, and Ginny worried that he might be doing it to not spill her secrets.

Still, when breakfast started clearing up, Ginny heard her mum say, "I'll be having a chat with our Ginny."

The familiar sensation of being picked up came again, and while her mum was quiet, she heard hooves clop as her brothers left the room.

"Now then, what's this about popping out of the book?" Molly asked.



There's a trick that… that I think I can figure out from the information in here. Tom was able to make himself manifest outside the diary, like a poltergeist, and he did that by using the magic of someone else.



"Hrmm."

Ginny felt a chill go through her at how relaxing it was to hear her mum's voice in that contemplative tone.

"From what Albus told me, the ghost of Tom Riddle was using you to fuel his actions. That it would be destructive, ultimately."



Mum, I know that, but I don't need to steal someone's body. I just want a weak, partly-corporeal form I can exist in. It's kinda hard to interact properly in here.



When her mother was silent for a bit, Ginny started to grow worried.



I don't want to hurt anyone. I just thought that with all the magic here, maybe it wouldn't be as stressful for someone to lend me some.



"That's a good point, actually. Perhaps we can try talking to one of those ponies that lived here already. They might have some idea of how magic works in this world."



Mum, have you used any magic yet? I heard everyone talking about how they turned into ponies, but the only one I got a good look at was Harry.



"Harry looks a little different to the rest. He's akin to a whole other breed." Molly let out a sigh. "I used some magic last night to help with dinner. Your mother has a tail now."

Ginny could barely hold her giggles to just being internal. Every time she thought she had herself under control, she felt an urge to write out her laughter.

It gave her pause, when she regained her focus, that she had started to write out her feelings at time without meaning to.



Well, to hear Ron talk, it's not so bad. He was even able to write in me using just his mouth. I managed to convince him to just talk. It gets a bit lonely just being able to hear and not see anyone.



"Well, since your father's out getting The Burrow and our farm spread out again, I think we can spare a little walk into the city to find out if anyone knows how this trick of yours might work. Surely if the ponies don't know, we can ask Albus or Minerva about it."



Thanks, Mum.







"It's like you have your entire self wrapped up inside that book. Who made it?" Cadance asked.

Ginny had to imagine the princess that was talking to her. A pony much bigger than the rest that had wings and a horn and—apparently—more magic than any wizard or witch Ginny's mother had ever seen.



The person who made it was named Tom Riddle, but it's probably a good idea he's not around. He wasn't nice.

I am kinda trapped in here. It was that Sombra wizard who ripped away my body and left me as a bare soul. Harry got the book to accept me so I could survive until my body was found but… but I don't think that will happen now.



"But you want to try making yourself an avatar that would let you do stuff?" This time it was Shining who spoke.

"You'd know better than me, Shiny. I rushed through training in unicorn magic, but you embraced it."



An avatar? I think that's right. I just want to be able to reach outside this book.



Ginny felt real hope. Of the two, Shining seemed to be more knowledgeable about how magic worked than anyone Ginny had ever met—even Tom.

"I think that can work. You'll need a powerful source of magic, but it should work."

"So, Shiny, she just needs a strong source of magic?" Cadance's voice seemed inflected, waiting for an answer that Ginny never heard. "Well, we have one of those. Me."



What? But what if it hurts you?



"Do you plan to hurt me?"

It seemed silly to Ginny. People could get hurt without others meaning to.



No, but



"I am a big filly, Ginny. If you didn't harm your brother, I should be more than okay."



But with him I just pulled him into the diary. This might be



Cadance interrupted Ginny again. "Ginny, just try it. Please?"



I don't exactly know it. I remember how Tom did it, though.



When there was no reply, Ginny focused on that feeling. The draining, sucking of her magic. Of course, Tom had used mesmerism too, but she figured that wasn't required with a willing subject. She pictured Cadance and reached out to her.

Instead of pushing out, however, Ginny found herself sucking Cadance in. There, in the calm library of the book, where Ginny spent most of her study time, stood Cadance.

Struggling not to squeal in girlish excitement at seeing a huge, pink pony, Ginny cleared her throat. "I think I got this bit wrong."

Looking around the room, Cadance turned to look at its only other occupant and nodded. "I believe you are right. How long will this last?"

"Oh! Hold on."



I think I did it wrong. Cadance came in here instead of me going out there. This might need more practice.



"I told them what happened. Uh, I think I need to let go of you to let you back out again." Something ached in Ginny's heart, though, one important thing that she couldn't deny. "C-Can I hug you before you go?"

Stepping forward, Cadance reached a foreleg out to pull Ginny close. "You haven't had much company in here, I take it?"

Shaking her head, Ginny pressed her face into Cadance's mane, then tried (and failed) to keep from crying. She clung to Cadance, and when the first full sob came, a flood of them soon followed.

"You poor dear. This is not how anycreature is meant to live."

As she sat there bawling, Ginny felt like her emotions were welling over with intensity. But it couldn't last forever. Slowing her sobs, she tried to remember that she wasn't hugging her mum, but a princess. An adorable, pink pony princess with an amazing mane she was surely making a mess of. "S-Sorry."

Letting Ginny pull free, Cadance stood tall again. "Anytime you need to talk just come and see me. I'll leave instructions that you and anyone carrying you is allowed to see me at any time."

"But you have a whole country to run!"

"Correct, but I have help in doing that. You, on the other hoof, don't have a lot of potential friends you can hug right now. And that brings me to my second request." Cadance cleared her throat. "Please, don't attempt to do this connection with anycreature else. There's no telling how somepony with less magic might handle this."

Taking a deep breath to get a hold of her emotions, Ginny nodded. "C-Can I keep being connected to you?"

"You definitely can. You're a pony in my care now, Ginny Weasley. When a princess makes a promise, it doesn't get broken." Cadance closed her eyes and a pulse of magic ran through Ginny's world. "I promise I'll do everything I can to help you. All you need to do is ask."





Ginny had expected the link Cadance had made to break. Any second, she thought, the princess would need her magic for something else and it would be a neat slice. But after a week it hadn't changed.

Each day she focused on spending time with her brothers and parents, but each night she studied a full two days at Hogwarts so that at the end of the week she was two weeks into Tom's third school year.

Dueling had become her favorite class. If ever there was somewhere she could test her ideas regarding counter-cursing, it was there. She also didn't particularly mind hurting the students or even Walburga Black herself—mostly because nothing Ginny did persisted. Every day would be clean and once more in line with Tom Riddle's school history.

That's when the letter had been delivered, but not by an owl. A large gray stallion waited at the door while Ginny's mother read her the letter. She only knew what the stallion looked like because Ron had described him.

"It's an invitation to the castle. Princess Cadance wants to meet with you again and see what you've learned. Here, Ginny, why does she have this interest in you?" Molly Weasley asked.



Mum, she just wants to make sure I'm okay. She promised me she'd help any way she could. Maybe she has something she came up with?



Ron was reading what I'd written too, and he jumped from his chair. "I'll take her, Mum."

"You two be careful. I know we're supposed to trust them and all, but there's something odd going on between them and the Ministry. Even your father's worried."

Ginny could hear worry in her mother's tone, but there had been a fair share of that just from everything that had happened.



Thanks, Mum. Hold me up so Ron can't see, please?



"Right you are, he's getting his things."



How is your magic going?



"Oh. Oh, well, you know how it is, Ginny. Tail's grown in, and I'm hiding all my extra hair under a cloth tied over my head. Ears too. I don't know how much longer I can hide the clopping of my feet."

As her mum spoke, Ginny could hear a kind of false cheer in her voice.



Mum, it's okay. Lots of people have turned into ponies. You'll still be my mum!



She could feel when her mother closed the covers of the book. At first Ginny was worried she'd said the wrong thing, but then she heard hooves clopping into the kitchen.

"You ready, Ronald? Here you are, now take care of yer sister."

"Yes, mum!"

Ginny felt Ron pick her up and then heard his and the other pony's hooves clopping on the stone path as they left the house. Every step Ron took, Ginny could feel herself getting closer to Cadance. The sensation was normally hidden behind the normal noise of life in the house, but now she was quite aware of it.

The sound of his hooves changed to the more solid crystal-hoof on crystal-pavement sound, and a bit later it changed again to a sound I'd only heard when Ron had been on the steps of the crystal castle. The world seemed so much different when all she could do was listen, but Ginny was starting to learn to pick out key things that let her know what was going on.

"Ah, Ginny's here? Could you bring her over please?"

Cadance's voice bubbled with excitement that surprised Ginny. She heard Ron mumble something as his hooves clopped on the stone inside the castle. What Ginny could feel, though, was her book being picked up in Cadance's magic.

Her magic, to Ginny, felt almost like home. Every day Ginny could feel the gentle trickle of it through the link they'd forged, but having so much of it so close was a whole other deal.

"I sent a letter to my sister-in-law, and she sent back a spell I'd like to try, if you'll let me?"

Her pages opened, and Ginny could feel the magic that opened them. It felt good to be close to Cadance again.



Sure!



Ginny could feel Cadance's rush of magic. She didn't really have anyone to compare it to—not ever having felt others' magic before—but she assumed it was a lot.

Then she noticed something moving on her pages. The movement was a tiny, inky horse. It took Ginny an embarrassing amount of time to realize it was Cadance.



How did you do that?



"It's a spell. Well, a spell and a trick of thinking. It's called a Hayscartes' Method—I think. Twilight wrote about a dozen pages of notes on it, and I'd be lying if I said I read all of them. She's a wonderful pony, and smart as can be, but she likes writing books for the fun of it."

The strangest thing with the book-Cadance was little speech bubbles appeared and Ginny heard her speaking out loud.



How long does it las



Ginny stopped her question as Cadance popped out of the book.

"Uh, not all that long. Twilight hinted that I'd have a few minutes, but I guess I need to practice that more." Clearing her throat, Cadance raised her voice a little. "Nopony worry, I will be entering Ginny Weasley's book for some time. Guard this room and the book."

The sound of hooves snapping to attention was unique to Ginny, but she recognized it from sneaking out of the house to watch the Edinburgh Tattoo with her brothers. A memory floated to her of all the brave-looking soldiers marching along, and she was stung with the desire to see again.

"Pull me in when you're ready," Cadance said.

Ginny worked the magic she'd learned from Tom, and drew Cadance into the book. Rather than the library, however, she was sitting in the Slytherin common room with its richly decorated couches and chairs, soft lighting, and no one else around.

"This is different from the library. A little dark." Looking around, Cadance seemed to examine the furniture and the huge glass wall showing the lake beyond.

"It's the Slytherin common room. They don't let non-Slytherin in here, but it's not like they can stop me in my own book. When you were in the book with that spell before, could you see out?" Ginny stood up from the couch she'd been sitting on—Tom's favorite—and walked over to the window.

A huge form swam past just at the edge of Cadance's vision—where the murk swallowed the depths up. "I could, yes, though not well. How goes your studies?"

"I got two weeks into the school year now. Tom studies a lot of nasty spells, but it is giving me the chance to work out ways to counter dark magic and curses." Ginny felt excitement at being able to talk to a real person. She wanted to talk about every little thing she'd done, and so she did.

Every minute detail of her week, every spell she learned and every counter-spell she researched, even her improving practice with duels was spilled out and served up to Cadance. It got so much that Ginny felt like she needed to stop, but she just couldn't until she'd said everything.

Cadance, sitting down and watching the water as she listened, reached out with just her wing to put around Ginny's shoulders. "You've had quite the week. Have you considered spending more time exploring?"

The question surprised Ginny, though she found herself leaning against Cadance. "Exploring?"

"Well, this Tom has certainly written about far more of this castle than you have visited yourself—this room for example. Have you tried exploring the castle to see what he found?" Cadance worked at Ginny's far shoulder with her primaries, rubbing the spot slowly.

"I…" Ginny turned to look at Cadance. They were practically eye-to-eye, though when she stood up Cadance seemed a little taller. "I hadn't thought of that. It will take some time, there're a lot of floors."

"Time is something you have."

Ginny calmed down and thought about the idea. She knew most of Hogwarts, or so she figured. At least she knew the hallways pretty well, and the doors that led off from them. "I wonder if he ever got into the other common rooms?"

"There's no harm in trying. How well is your memory for such things?"

The surely-imagined warmth that soaked into her was building up Ginny's self-esteem by the second. "I—I guess it's been better than usual since I came in here. I can remember every moment in full detail."

"The book is a journal, right? So it makes sense such an item would aid in recollection. Or perhaps, being your journal now, it's recording your memories for you?"

"I don't know if there's an easy way for me to test that right now, but I can definitely go exploring. I'll have to spend some time to make a mental map that can survive the stairs moving, but that's half the challenge, right?" Cadance felt less like a teacher or adult to Ginny than like a friend. A big, pink, pony friend who gave the best advice and hugs. "Could I, um—Would it be okay if—"

"Just ask me."

Ginny closed her eyes. "I really want to brush your mane. I don't know why, I can't explain it, but I—"

"Go ahead."

"… just can't stop thinking about—Wait, really?" Ginny looked at Cadance in surprise.

"Of course. If it would help you relax, and I know it will help me relax, go right ahead." Cadance lifted her wing back and shook her head a little to send her mane flying in all directions.

Making an excited squeal, Ginny manifested a soft brush into her own hand and went to work. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this! It's so soft…"

"I noted the time slip last time I was in here. It seems like hours can pass as minutes outside. That means we have plenty of time." Turning her head just a little, Cadance tilted head back a little so Ginny would be able to access more of her mane.

"Yeah." It was hard to focus on talking while there was so much mane to brush, but Ginny managed. "I can change it a little. Right now I have it as high as I can. I don't want to waste your time out there."

"That's thoughtful of you. Thank you." Cadance's mane was completely and perfectly brushed already, but she seemed perfectly content to allow more brushing to take place. "Have you thought about what you wish to do when you are done with everything this book has to teach you?"

Ginny bit her lower lip as she thought on the question. "I don't kn— I'd like to protect people. I'm learning a lot about fighting dark wizards—but it will be hard to do that while stuck in this book."

"Then we need to come up with ways for you to be able to exist outside the book."

"I'm sure I just need to get to the end of third year, but I don't want to get ahead of my friends too much." Brushing a pony princess was a really good way to distract herself, Ginny realized. Her hands could work while her brain wandered without interference from her normal mental roadblocks.

"With time moving as it does in here, that might be inevitable. You want to gain the ability to walk on your own four—two feet." Cadance tilted her head to look back at Ginny and smile. "Sorry, I guess I'm too used to ponies. So, you wish to become a warrior for good?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

Cadance chuckled. "Not exactly."

That's when Ginny remembered whose book she was in. "Okay, I guess you're right. I've just always felt like I wanted to."

Loosing her wings a little, Cadance let out a relaxed sigh. "Let me tell you about a friend of mine. When we first met, he was a few years younger than you are now and I was perhaps a year older. I had my cutie mark, but he didn't.

"He didn't like me very much, but it was because he didn't get close to me. I understood he was younger, but it was frustrating because there was part of me that said—that told me he was the one.

"We got to know each other and we grew up together. Each year that passed, I felt that bond with him grow stronger, but when he got his cutie mark it added something new to him. He got it defending me, and it seemed to light a fire within him almost as strong as the one linking us together.

"I was scared at first. Terrified it would take over all of him and the we that had grown would cease to be. How wrong I was. He grew ever bigger, swelling with our bond and his need to be a shield to those who needed one.

"That's when I realized that both those parts of him were parts I loved. Seeing him helping others helped me realize I wanted to do the same. Unlike him I am not a fighter, however, but I have learned even to fight beside him as he needs me, and he stands beside me with the fights I am better at."

"Shining Armor?" It was the name Ginny knew for Cadance's husband, and the moment she said it she felt the whole world (or diary) around her go pink. It was like the temperature rose and she had a big, warm Inverness cape wrapped around her. She didn't really need an answer with a reaction like that.

"Shining Armor." Cadance's words seemed to make the warmth of the diary grow even more. "When I see his face firm up and he puffs up his coat a little, I know he's found somepony he wants to protect. When Princess Celestia got news of an invasion coming to Equestria, he put a shield around a whole city."

Ginny actually paused brushing for a moment as she took that in. "He put a shield over a city?!" When Cadance nodded, she started brushing again. "Wizards and witches—good ones—can usually shield a few people at once if they all huddle. Did it work?"

"It worked for three days. We didn't even realize we had a snake among us. Queen Chrysalis, a changeling queen, had slipped into Canterlot before the shield was put up. She overwhelmed me, locked me in the crystal caverns below the castle, and then took my form and drained Shining for three days.

"Then a hero came and freed me. Twilight Sparkle—the little filly I'd foalsat through her younger years—had seen something in Chrysalis' charade that led her to suspect things weren't right. The drain she put on Shining—Twilight's big brother—also had him acting strange. She freed me and together with Shining we ejected all the changelings with our magic." Cadance tilted her head to let Ginny work a little easier on one side. "Would you like to know the funniest bit?"

"Y-Yeah." Ginny's focus on the story was almost to the exclusion of her brushing. Almost.

"All this happened on the days leading up to my wedding, with the wedding itself being when we kicked her out."

Swapping sides, Ginny was devoted to her work—if only so she could say she'd done a proper job of brushing a princess' mane. "Wow. So you had to do it all over again later?"

"Absolutely not. I commanded the nearest pony with a rank high enough to marry us and we did it there and then."

Giggling at the vehemence, Ginny felt buoyed up by positive emotions. She did a little more brushing before it hit her. "Your magic is filled with your emotion!"

With the brushing on hold, Cadance turned to look at Ginny, and in doing so saw that there was a pink glow to the normally dim and green-themed room. "And my magic is what's fueling your world. I can try to tone it down a—"

"No! Please! I like this. It feels"—Ginny waved her hands around a little to try to summon the words she needed—"good. Nice. Everything was always tainted with Tom's thoughts. Feeling the lightness and joy in here makes it a lot easier to remember why I want to protect people."

"I'm glad you like it because it would have been a bit of a strain to rein myself in. If this helps, though, I'll try to focus on happy thoughts as much as I can." Her horn glowing blue, Cadance lifted the brush out of Ginny's hand. "Now it's your turn."

"Wha—?" The magic spun Ginny around and she soon felt the brush working through her hair. Each stroke caused her mind to melt and her defenses to lower even further until she was sitting on a couch backwards with Cadance behind her.

"Now, you have a lot less hair than I do, so this will go faster, but I want a promise from you, Ginny."

The brush was always in motion. Ginny had no meaningful reason to resist its relaxing, compelling ways, but she was a little worried that Cadance would ask her to do something she didn't want to. All she managed to say, though, was, "Hmm?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Ginny, I have a lot of magic. I'm an alicorn who has only a basic knowledge of working spells, which means I don't tend to use a lot of it." Working with Ginny's hair, Cadance started arranging it a little more, moving it this way and that to attempt to get an idea of how it wanted to sit. "I want you to promise me you will use it."

"A-Alright."

"That didn't sound very committal. I mean it. Not everypony—everyone—in my empire needs my direct help, and that means that when someone like yourself does, I can give my all."

The brushing had mellowed Ginny out to the point where she could barely think about the room around them—instead just listening to Cadance and trying to understand what she was working up to.

"I want you to bring your mother and father in here when you get home. I know doing so will use a significant amount more magic than you're using to have me here, but it is a price I am happy to pay."

It was crazy. It took Ginny so much magic just to have one person in her book. "But it's a waste. It uses—"

"Ginny, you won't be allowed to brush my mane again unless you do this."

Laughing, Ginny sighed and tilted her head back to look at Cadance upside down. "That's silly and the most threatening thing I think you could use at the same time." The threat did what Cadance asking nicely wouldn't, though, and it finally got through to Ginny how much Cadance cared for her. "I'll do it tonight."





When Ginny got home, she thanked Ron for the lift and asked him to pass her to their mother. Just hearing her mother's voice calmed Ginny down from the nerves she was feeling.

"Now, what is it, dear?"



When I was talking to Cadance, she made me promise to spend a lot of magic to bring you and Dad into the diary so I could talk to you both face to face. Would you—



"You don't need to ask that last bit, Ginny-dear. If this princess wants you to use up her magic, you use it, but remember that such deals come with a price. A price you might not even recognize."

Her mother's tone implied that Ginny should think far more carefully about Cadance's deal than she'd already done. It made her think about what it was Cadance really wanted. So far the princess had acted a lot like the teachers at Hogwarts—Ginny had to concede, however, that she only meant the nice ones.



I'll have to work out what that price is. Is Dad home?



"Let me go get him."

Ginny heard her mum's footsteps lead away somewhere, thought she could hear her talking, then a pair of footsteps returned. She was getting good at counting footsteps to tell how many people were nearby.

"This'll be exciting," Ginny's dad said. "What's it like in there?"

"I don't know that. You'll have to ask Ginny," her mother said.



I can make any room in Hogwarts that I can make most rooms in Hogwarts.



Halfway through writing, Ginny realized she didn't really want to bring up Tom Riddle with her parents.

"Right, well, how about you just find us somewhere warm, then? Oh, like the main hall. We could sit at the table in there, in front of the fire," her father said.

Ginny knew that room well, having had meals there for months. Reaching out with her magic—Cadance's magic—she grabbed both her parents and pulled.

Looking at her parents, Ginny barely lasted a quarter of a second before she rushed to her mother and hugged her. Squeezing her slightly shorter mum, her tears started to flow again. "I missed you!"

Despite her arms having changed color to deep green, her red hair having intensified, and now sporting a tail and hooves on her feet, Molly Weasley scooped her daughter up and hugged her back. "There there. You're okay, Ginny-dear."

Walking around the huge hall, inspecting everything he could, Ginny's father finally stopped and turned to face his wife and daughter. "Here then, you have the building spot-on, but why is everything pink?"

Lifting her head from her mother's shoulder, Ginny looked at her dad and then the room around them—and giggled. "It's the princess' magic. Whenever I use it, I just feel so much lighter and—and pink. Can't you feel it, Dad?"

It was then Ginny noticed her parents glance at each other and a look passed between them. She'd been trying to understand such looks for a while, but her parents didn't make them often enough—around her—for her to pick up on what they meant.

"And you just feel light and—and pink?" Ginny's father asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I also feel like my heart is pounding, but it's not like I even have one of those anymore. Not really, anyway. When I asked Ron, he said Cadance is the princess of love. I guess that's why she wanted me to bring you in here." Looking between her parents and feeling her love for her mum and dad swell, Ginny knew that was definitely true.

That's when it hit her—Ginny realized she could feel their love radiating back at her. For a moment she almost broke into tears again, but instead just contented herself with walking up to her dad and giving him a hug. "Thanks for coming in, Dad."

She didn't care if he could only manage an awkward and very British fatherly hug with one arm. Her dad was a little embarrassed, but his love for her didn't waver.

Looking around the decidedly pink-themed dining room, Ginny's mum chuckled. "I believe I need to meet with this princess of love, but I do approve of her letting you use her magic for this."

Ginny hated the feeling she got as she realized she was literally burning up Cadance's magic. "I should let you go. This is using an awful lot of magic. I—I think I should do something to pay Cadance back for this, but I don't know what."

"We'll go see her in the morning and work out something, dear," Ginny's mum said.

"We should be letting you go. I'm sure the princess will need some magic," Ginny's dad said as he let her go. "You know your mother and I are proud of you, Ginny?"

Blushing, Ginny nodded. "Yeah, Dad."

"We'll check-in on the princess tomorrow. Don't stay up too late."

"Okay, Mum." It was easier not to argue that she didn't need to sleep. Ginny gave her parents another smile and then let them go.





Ginny could hear her mum and Cadance talking. It was just them getting to know each other, discussing the Crystal Empire itself, and a little talk about Hogwarts. Eventually the topic of Ginny came up.

"Thank you for giving me and my husband time with her last night. I know she can hear me right now, which is why I'm saying it out loud—it hurts me to see what was done to her. She's making the best of it, and if you can help her, I'd owe you a lot."

It surprised Ginny to hear her mum let loose like that. All through her life, her mother had been this huge, stable rock in her life.

"A debt does not need to be paid—by yourself, your husband, or Ginny. I gave my magic freely." Cadance's voice was warm and welcoming, and it made Ginny let out a laugh of pure joy to hear. "But I think I can do one more thing for her.

"I could teach her to use the magic she's borrowing."

What annoyed Ginny the most was that she couldn't say anything. She wanted—needed—to be part of this conversation. The best she could tell, however, was that her mother was holding her under one arm.

"I think we should ask Ginny her intentions."

A relaxed sigh left Ginny when she heard her mum say exactly what she wanted to hear. She got ready for guests—which mostly meant heading for the dining hall and dressing the place up a little. It was still pink, though now it had comfortable couches instead of the hard benches meant to seat hundreds.

"You'll want to set her down on a flat surface and open her. I believe having the book closed hinders her somewhat," Cadance said.

Ginny could feel the moment her book was opened. It was like she had both more magic and more reach with it. Extending it out, she felt Cadance and her own mother and tugged them into the book.

She beamed in excitement at her mother and Cadance. "I'd like to learn more magic, if you'll teach me."

It was impossible for Ginny to miss the look Cadance gave her mother.

"I would prefer it if you did teach her, honestly. At least so that she can understand how your magic works while she's using it." Ginny's mum gave her warmest smile, leaving the room a little more pink for it. "Now, Ginny-dear, I think I can leave you to it."

Rushing over to her mum, Ginny hugged her tight. "Thank you."

"It's quite alright. Between all my children right now, you're not the one I worry for the most."

"Charlie." It strained Ginny's heart to think of her big brother—one among many. "I'm sure he's hit the ground running, Mum. He's fearless, our Charlie. He takes care of dragons!"

"Of course he does, but I'm still allowed to worry about him."

"I know he'll be fine. He has to be." It was the best way to decide the problem, in Ginny's mind. He would be safe because she wouldn't let him be otherwise. "I love you, Mum."

"Love you too, Ginny. Now let me out, I have to go see someone about an owl." Ginny's mum faded as Ginny ejected her from the book.

"Now, can you tell me what you've already experienced with my magic?" Cadance walked closer and settled down on a couch.

Ginny brought her mind to bear on what she'd felt since Cadance had let her use magic. "You're the princess of love, right?" She waited for Cadance to nod. "That's what I've been feeling, isn't it? Mum and Dad's love for me. Also, all this pink is invading the book."

"Part and parcel of my magic, I'm afraid. There is some good news, however. I have written a letter to my sister-in-law, and she is trying to devise a spell that will work opposite to that Hayscartes' Method. She won't be done for several days—at the earliest—which gives us both time to come to grips with my magic in your hoo—hands."





It took a week for Twilight to formulate a spell and in that time Ginny and Cadance explored what Cadance's magic could do inside the book and out. With a little focus, Ginny even extended her emotional sense outside the book.

She'd also spent each day doing a day of schooling at Hogwarts—in the diary. At one day per day, she knew she wasn't going to be getting far into the third-year, but it no longer seemed so daunting. What she looked forward to was actually acting in the real world and, she hoped, hugging her parents and attending Hogwarts herself in the real world.

Every day a member of the Crystal Guard would come to The Burrow and take her to the castle. She practiced—as Cadance had instructed her—just sensing the love of the pony carrying her and possibly beyond them. So far she'd only caught wisps of love from the guard each time, but it was a start.

The closer she got to Cadance, the more intense a feeling of love Ginny felt. To her new sense, Cadance was like a raging inferno and comparable only to her husband.

"I have it, Ginny. This spell will let you manifest in the real world again."

Cadance's voice excited Ginny, and she quickly reached out and scooped Cadance into the intensely pink dining hall at Hogwarts. The moment the papers that Cadance held were within Ginny's book, she could see them as clear as day. "How does it work?" It was, of course, not written like any spell Ginny had encountered before.

"This is complicated even by Twilight's standard. Okay, let me see if I can step you through the patterns and calculations." Cadance furrowed her brow as she examined the pages, her mouth moving a little as she worked through the spell. After several minutes of focus, she sighed. "This is not easy, but the advantage you have is lots of raw power and you're within your own domain with control over how time flows."

At last Cadance started describing the patterns needed to make the spell work. At first it seemed a mammoth task for Ginny, but then she remembered the one thing she had plenty of was time. By the time they were done with their normal daily session, she'd managed to master about a quarter of the spell.

"I wish we could keep going," Ginny said.

"We have two full months ahead of us before your school year starts. At the very least we'll find a way for you to attend." Despite her insistence that their time was up, Cadance produced a hair brush and passed it to Ginny.

This was relaxation for both of them. Ginny settled down and let all the tension out as she started brushing Cadance's mane. It had started as more of a gag, but now it helped them both relax after an intense session of magic lessons.

"Mum's really worried about Charlie. She's tried everything to get through to him, but we can't even find out where he is let alone get a message to him." It was also a time for gossip. Ginny had a few things to get off her chest. "And I worry about him too."

"I can't exactly start a search—my hooves are full dealing with these Ministry of Magic people—but I can ask Auntie to try finding him." Cadance let out a relieved sigh as the brushing worked away the stress of her morning. "Apart from my time with Shiny, this is a highlight of my day, Ginny. Thank you."

Ginny blushed, but didn't stop brushing. "When I graduate from Hogwarts, I'd like to—to come and work for you. If, I mean, I can get out of this diary."

"Even if you're stuck in there for the rest of your life, there will be a place for you at my court. You're sharp, even for a filly, and I am always happy to surround myself in smart pon—Ugh. Why is it so hard to remember you're not a pony?" Cadance let out a frustrated whinny.

"It's fine. I know what you mean, anyway."

"No, Ginny. It's not about you—well, not just about you. I have the Ministry of Magic from your world to contend with too, and they insist on using human terms for them even when some of their members are completely pony.

"And, I understand that. That doesn't help me with getting it right. Everypony and hooves and foals—It's ingrained."

"Then keep practicing with me." Ginny held up her fingers and snapped them, producing a clone of herself standing in front of Cadance. It was something she'd been practicing inside the diary. Making a body double in a world you control every aspect of was one thing, using it was another.

With her focus split, Ginny kept brushing while looking at Cadance from the front. "Everyone." She created a chalkboard beside her and gestured to where everypony had a line through it and everyone was underlined.

Cadance burst into giggles. "Yes, teacher!"

Flipping around the chalkboard, Ginny revealed it had hooves crossed out and hands underlined. "Hands!" Now she couldn't hold back her own giggles.

The brushing finally halted and Ginny combined her focus back to one body, and despite their giggles, they both realized the day was done. "Did you really mean that?" Ginny asked.

"My offer?" When Ginny nodded, Cadance continued. "I did and do. We work well together, you're a quick learner, and short of something devastating happening, we're going to get you a way out of this diary."

Ginny hugged Cadance tight, squeezing her neck and fighting not to cry. "Thank you."

Extending one foreleg around Ginny's shoulders, Cadance gave her a warm hug. "You're welcome, Ginny. Would you like to spend a little more time here? The castle, that is. I could have you on the arm of the throne beside me."

"I'd need to let Mum know I—"

"I can send somepony to give her a message."

Inhaling, letting the warmth of a new friendship run through her, Ginny nodded. "I'd like that."





It took the rest of the week to fully come to grips with the new spell and how to work it, but with a new appreciation for how complex pony magic was, Ginny could feel Cadance and Shining's presence outside of her book as if she was already standing beside them—they glowed to her new love-sense like an inferno.



Okay, I'm ready to try it.



"Just remember, it's definitely going to use a lot more magic the first time you cast it. That penalty will taper off with usage. I'm ready when you are," Cadance said.

The idea that all magic—pony or wizard—was just a collection of patterns was curious to Ginny. She had the thought of testing to see what parts of the patterns she could leave out and what was required, but that was something to test later.

Starting off with the complex pattern, she imagined it drawn on each page of a book in layers. By the time she got her book to 100 pages, she felt she was almost done with it. As it turned out, she only had 20 more to go.



Okay, I've built the spell. Here comes the magic.



Ginny started feeding magic into the book. It wanted to twist and reshape itself, but she held it firmly in place with a glare to do her mother proud. The magic just kept flowing, so she kept feeding it. The book started to turn pink at first, then began glowing with a pink light, and finally it started radiating little love-hearts—then the magic book she'd made opened up in the air and shoved its magic onto her.

The (predictably) pink flash of magic hitting her startled Ginny, but when the light faded she was even more surprised. "I did it!" She could see Shining and Cadance and the Guardponies and the castle and—"Wait, what's wrong? I can't move properly."

"Oh. Oh my." Cadance walked over to Ginny. "The spell worked, but it seems to be far more like the Hayscartes' Method than the opposite of it should be. You're not exactly—The best way to explain it is you're a caricature of yourself."

Stretching her arms out in front of her, Ginny looked down to see inked lines of a picture portraying her arms. It was silly and she giggled appreciatively.

"Here." Shining Armor levitated a large mirror over and held it up before Ginny.

She really was a living caricature. A picture from a book made real. "I look really strange. I wonder if I could change the spell to fill me in a little." As she spoke, Ginny became more and more aware of the fact she was outside her book. In the end, she gave an excited squeal. "We did it!"

"How's the magic draw? Is she taking too much like this?" Shining asked.

Cadance smiled and walked around Ginny to inspect the work of the spell. "A little more than having two people in the book at the same time, but I'm not struggling to maintain it. I think the Crystal Heart is helping."

"The power required will go down with usage. Eventually it will be using a fraction of this much energy—that's the nature of new magic." Shining drew surprised looks from both his wife and Ginny. "What? You think Twily got all the brains in the family?"

"No, Shiny, I know you're smart, I just keep forgetting that it applies to magic, too." Cadance kissed his cheek, which got a happy-silly grin from the stallion. "Sorry."

"You know, I never thought I'd be living in the shadow of my little sister. I mean, she was always going to be amazing, but she's saved the world several times now. Where am I at? One?" Shining nuzzled Cadance's cheek, then looked surprised and spun back to look at Ginny. "S-Sorry."

"What? No! I mean—" Ginny was a little shell-shocked. She'd felt a heavy drain moments ago, as her use of the spell sucked away at Cadance's love, but now it seemed like she was practically flooded with magic. "I don't want to interrupt."

"You're not interrupting. We only got married a few weeks ago—" Cadance paused as she noticed the dark ink lines that had made up Ginny's form changed. No longer black, they were a soft pink. "Did we make a little more magic?"

"I-I think so." It was hard for Ginny to even think of people (or ponies) being that free with acts of affection. Her own parents were more restrained, though she had to wonder if that was constrained given how many of her siblings were always around. She noticed the pink accent to her line-work too now, and giggled. "Why does everything your magic touch turn pink?"

Cadance just giggled.

"You wouldn't believe how lucky I've been to stay white." Shining picked up the mirror from where he'd put it, then shrieked. "My magic! It turned pink!"

Panic rose in Ginny before she noticed Cadance's droll stare. "Uh?"

"His magic has always been pink. What's odd is that mine's blue. I guess we compliment each other like that." Cadance held out a hoof to Ginny. "Can you move? Can you hold things? Let's test this while we have plenty of energy to work with."

Reaching out her hand, Ginny took hold of Cadance's hoof and gave it a little squeeze. "I guess I can hold things."

"That doesn't mean you're fully corporeal." Shining picked up a feather-quill from a nearby writing table and floated it over with his magic. Reaching out, he poked at Ginny with the nib.

"That feels really odd. It's going into me?" Reaching down, Ginny took a grip on the feather and pulled it out of her body. "But I can hold it."

"It probably has something to do with your will, then. Try looking at the feather while I poke you with it. If you can see it, it might make things different." Shining used his magic to gently tug on the feather, leading to Ginny releasing it.

This time, watching the nib touch her skin and then push inside was odder still. "Uh, was it meant to stop?"

"This is interesting. Perhaps it's only unattended objects that you can do that? Cadie, try pushing the feather in with your hoof while I watch," Shining said.

After a few more pokes they established that anyone but Ginny—when poking at her with something—couldn't actually affect her. "I wonder how it would work with big things? Could you try shoving a chair through me—slowly!"

Shining had a notebook out and was writing furiously in it. "Give me a second. If we don't get all this written down, Twily will never forgive us."

"He's right. She can be very intense when it comes to magic and science. Here." Cadance picked up the chair with her magic and brought it closer and closer to Ginny. When the large back of it pressed against her, then pushed inside her body, Ginny gasped and disappeared.

The shock of having her spell undone in such a way left Ginny a little confused for a moment, but she narrowed her eyes and re-summoned the book she'd made—filled it with magic and popped out of the book again. "That wasn't fun."

"There's one last important thing." Cadance picked up the diary Ginny's soul was bound inside of and held it out to her. "Can you hold your own self?"

Blinking in surprise, Ginny reached a hand out and tried to hold the book. The moment her hand started to take the weight of the book, she felt a tingle run through her projected body. It wasn't a shocking disruption like the chair had been, but she felt like something very wrong was happening.

Pink magic grabbed the book and pulled it away. "Ginny, please go back into the book."

Looking up at Shining, Ginny looked then to Cadance—who looked a little pale. "Oh no!" She let go of the spell and snapped back into the diary.



I didn't hurt her, did I?



"Cady? Cady, are you okay?" Shining asked.

"Y-Yes. That was a lot of magic just now." Cadance's soft voice sounded strained. "Shiny, a kiss will help."

Ginny examined how she felt. It was like the pink was fading from the book around her and she couldn't feel as much magic as she had before.



Please! Is Cadance okay?



"I'm alright, Ginny. We now know you can't pick up your book like that." Cadance sounded a little shaky still.

Hearing a kiss, Ginny's world was flooded with pink again. It was like Cadance was ignited with new power. She focused everything she could on not using it, though.

She waited, and waited, and waited, and finally decided to focus on the spell rather than listen to see if they were kissing or—Ginny didn't want to think about that kind of thing.

Looking at the first page, she tried to get an idea of what was going on. She touched a little magic to just that page and watched how it flowed. There were parts of the pattern that weren't even activating, though she could appreciate that they might be activated by other pages.

She got through nearly thirty pages worth of understanding how the spell worked when she heard her name called.



Hello?



"It's Cadance. I'm feeling better now. You can use magic again, just please don't try to hold your book." There was no hint of the earlier strain in Cadance's voice.

Focusing magic on the book, Ginny manifested herself into the real world again. She spotted Cadance close by, reading the page of the diary. "I'm sorry, I—"

"No. Don't feel sorry for that. We were testing a theory and learned from it. Nopony—no one will take any lasting harm from it." Cadance turned to the caricature of Ginny and walked forward to hug her.

It was impossible to resist such a hug, so Ginny didn't try. Instead she leaned into Cadance's touch and hugged her back. A new surge of pink rushed through her, flooding and filling out the insides of the diary with more pink and causing her own dark lines to run to pink. "We have one more test to do, but we can do that tomorrow."

Cadance leaned back in surprise. "What's that?"

"Distance. How far from the book I can keep this shape. If I can leave the book here and walk around Hogwarts and the city, it would be really convenient." Ginny smiled a little bashfully. She could feel the love radiating off Cadance—could also feel the bond of friendship between them. "And then the most important bit."

"Which is?" Cadance asked.

"Can I hold a brush like this?"





Walking was something new for Ginny—at least in her caricature body. She walked along beside the unicorn in armor and couldn't help but smile at everything. There were ponies trotting around town on business, humans too, and all sorts of people in shapes between the two.

Some paused to watch her, while a bunch of foals trotted up and pranced along beside the Guardpony and her—only scattering when she turned her head to look at them. "S-Sorry, I should have asked your name."

"Searing Spear, ma'am," the mare said. "I take it you can't carry your book yourself?"

"Noooo. Last time I tried, it drained a lot of magic. Ca—Princess Cadance almost fell over." Despite the topic, Ginny couldn't stop grinning at being able to get outside. "My name's Ginny Weasley."

"The prince and princess have a lot of faith in you." Searing cleared her throat. "It's good to see the descendants of our lost cousins coming home again. They gave up so much for us—fighting for us—that it's hard to believe they're gone now."

"It's hard to think they are our ancestors. Growing up, witches and wizards are taught that there's something that gives us magic, that it's not in normal humans, but none of us had any idea that source was ponies."

"You're an interesting filly, Miss Weasley."

"Cadance has been trying to stop calling witches and wizards pony," Ginny said.

"Princess Cadance has to deal with the feelings of everyone she talks to. She's also not got a thousand years of noise in her head from an angry old wizard who tried to take over the world." Snorting a little, Searing seemed to calm and then let out a sigh. "Sorry, like I said, a thousand years is a long time to have him in my head. If you want, I'll try to—"

"You can call me filly and pony if you want, Miss Spear."

Turning and looking at the odd being that kept pace with her, Searing smiled and chuckled. "We're almost back to your—"

"That book is a dangerous artifact. You need to hand it over right now."

Searing went from relaxed trot to ready for action in the blink of an eye. Ginny could see the tenseness in her stance. Following her glare, Ginny spotted the man that'd spoken. He was short, but still had his hands—in one was a wand that was pointed right at Searing and her. "That's my book."

"Stand behind me, Ginny." There was no softness in Searing's voice. She put up an air-permeable shield and narrowed her eyes. "You're interfering with the official business of a Guard of the Crystal Empire. State your name and your affiliation, and back down immediately."

"There's five of us. What do you think you can do against five trained wizards?" Raising his wand a little higher, the strange man made a quick flourish and sent a spell sizzling through the air that hit Searing's shield and shattered it. "Just give us the book and you can go."

Tilting her head back a little, Searing's horn was soon pointed straight up and she sent a blast of magic skyward. A purple-red flare danced in the sky above them. "Five? You're about to have fifty Guardponies here."

Ginny had had enough of standing around uselessly, but without a wand she felt powerless. That's when she got an idea. Her caricature-self had clothes on, inexplicably, which meant it wasn't just her it was creating. Focusing her attention, she created a wand in her hand. "I wonder if this can work?"

There was no time for Searing to ponder her companion—her five opponents started casting and hurling spells at her. A combat-trained fighter herself, she fended off the first volley and managed to stop four of the next lot, only for a stunner to slam into her.

Shock turned to anger. Ginny jumped over Searing's collapsed body to put herself between the five attackers and the mare. In book-time, she'd spent the last several months drilling on dueling techniques from one of the most effective duelists that ever lived. The first two spells that came her way, Ginny flicked to the side on pure instinct.

"Is that a witch?"

"You! Lay down your wand! We're with the Ministry!"

"The—?" Another spell came her way and Ginny countered it and put up a shield. "If you're with the Ministry, why are you fighting us?"

"Miss, you're under the influence of that diary. It's an evil artifact!"

Noticing one of the wizards circling around behind her. Widening her shield, she drew heavily on Cadance's magic and felt a rush of power in response. "You don't understand, this is my diary now."

With a wizard at each cardinal point around Ginny, the leader of their group unloaded another shield penetrating bolt.

Ginny barely had time to see her shield break and realize there were four more spells incoming when a pink shield flared bright around her. Two stunners, a sneezing charm, and a stinging hex all fizzled against the shield around her.

"Halt! Cease this fighting!" Shining Armor's voice cut through the air. "Round them up. I don't want them getting away this time."

Still on edge, Ginny tracked various ponies as they ran to find the wizards who'd been attacking her, finally settling on Shining, who walked through the barrier around her without trouble. "W-What happened? Why were they attacking Searing Spear?"

"You're safe, both of you. I won't let them through my shield." Leaning down to check on Searing, he let out a relieved sigh. "She's okay—just knocked out. Did they hurt you?" The last he asked of Ginny.

"N-No. When Searing got stunned, I couldn't stand back." Shivering, Ginny rushed against Shining and hugged him. "They're supposed to protect witches!"

Reaching around Ginny, careful not to banish her, Shining asked, "Who was supposed to protect you?"

"The Ministry of Magic."





Ginny sat on a chair in the kitchen of The Burrow and stumbled her way through what had happened. Her parents were both there, as was Shining Armor. She tried to look at her dad, but the closest she got was his shirt before lowering her head again—she could feel the incredulousness radiating from him.

"There's no way old Herb would have organized this. Attacking a child? He knows it's our Ginny trapped in there, and I assured him the book isn't a threat anymore." Ginny's father shook his head. "Besides, anyone can just claim they're from the Ministry."

Looking at her mother, Ginny could read her look—don't argue with him. She sat there and waited for anyone to ask her a question.

"We caught at least two of the attackers. Would you like to verify their identities and intent?" Shining asked.

"Oh. Well, you know I'm not normally involved in that side of things." Looking down at Ginny just as she looked up at him, Arthur stiffened in his chair. For several long seconds he looked at his daughter's image before nodding. "Seems like it's time to change that. Ginny, I'd like you to come too, so you can be sure these were the wizards that attacked you."

Shining nodded to that, to Ginny accepting that her dad should find his word at least somewhat dubious. "That's understandable. If you'd like to walk back to the castle with me, I don't believe we should be interfered with."

Ginny's mum got to her feet first and made her way to the stove to toss some wood into the firebox. "I'll have your dinner ready when you get back. Don't be too long, dear."

When Shining and Ginny's dad stood up and made their way to the back door, Ginny rolled her eyes. "I need one of you to carry my book." She pointedly tried not to laugh when her mum chuckled.

"Oh. Oh, dear. Of course." Ginny's father picked up the diary and started off again after Shining.

"Bye, Mum!" Ginny ran off after her father and Shining, catching them out walking through the garden. "So Searing is going to be okay? It looked like they used a stunner on her, but it was hard to tell."

"Our medic said she was just unconscious, but we'll find out when we get back. How long were you defending her for?" Shining asked.

"I-I'm not really sure. They used a charm that destroys shields, then hit her with the stunner before I could work out how to make a wand appear, but then I realized they weren't going to stop with just that, so I started out just defending. You saw the flare she sent up, right?" Ginny asked.

"That's some good instincts. Yes, we saw the flare. It alerted our garrison to deploy. I was inspecting their exercise at the time and came running." Shining turned his head to look at Ginny. "I'm sure she'll thank you herself, but I want to thank you—on behalf of the whole Crystal Empire—for defending one of our defenders."

"I mean, all I did was what anyone would. We'd been talking and things happened so fast." Fumbling at what words to say, Ginny was sure she was blushing right up until she wondered if a line drawing that walked and talked could blush.

Shining gave Ginny one of his best supportive smiles. "Don't be surprised if Cady wants to do something special for you. The sergeant was there to protect you, not the other way around."

"Protect her?" Ginny's father asked. "Protect her from what?"

"This isn't the only incident of wizards or witches identified as working for the Ministry doing this." Shining let out a sigh. "The truth is, they're making a lot of problems for us and have the backing of a lot of wizards and witches—like yourself."

"If you're right, and this was Herb's doing—" Biting back his words before he spoke them, Ginny's dad looked at his little girl. "There's not a whole lot I wouldn't do for the Ministry, but it comes second—always behind my family."

Ginny couldn't say anything. Her dad's words seemed like a huge thing that now stood between her and the Ministry. She knew how he was, though, and managed to resist the urge to hug him for it.

No one attacked them on their way back to the castle, something for which they were all grateful, and the four ponies at the entrance (two unicorns, an earth pony, and a pegasus) snapped off brisk salutes to Shining on the way in.

Inside, in the throne room, Searing Spear stood along with several other guards—with three mostly-human wizards. As soon as Ginny entered the huge hall, she saw a look of recognition on Searing's face along with a smile. "That one there was the one leading them," Ginny said, pointing at one of the wizards wrapped inside a bubble of magic. "Can they see us?"

"No. They can't hear us, either, unless we change the spell." Shining walked up to the one Ginny had indicated. "Mr. Weasley, do you—?"

The pained expression on Ginny's father's face said all anyone needed to know. "All three of them are wizards for the Ministry." The words practically fell out. "But why would they be—?"

"I can allow sound in and out. I'll ask them, you can keep quiet if you wish." Shining waited for Ginny's dad to nod before his horn glowed for a moment. "You were working for the Ministry of Magic when you came for the diary?"

"Not sayin' a word," the wizard said.

Shining looked back at Ginny and her father and rolled his eyes. "So you're denying you said you were from the Ministry?"

"That's right!"

"Perfect. Since we have one of our own guards as an eyewitness, you're charged with assault. You will be held in our dungeon until I decide what to do with you." Shining gave a wink now.

"Wait! Don't we get a trial? You have to arrest us all proper and read us our rights!"

"Punter," Ginny's father said, "you're speaking to the leader of the Crystal Empire. He doesn't need to give you any rights and he doesn't need to put you on trial."

"Is that you, Mr. Weasley? You tell 'em they can't just lock us up like this!" the man called Punter said.

"I'm only here, Punter, because you attacked my daughter. You said yourself that you weren't sent by the Ministry, so I can't act on your behalf. His Highness here can do anything he wants with y—"

Punter looked around in his bubble of magic, clearly not able to see anyone outside. "But I was here from the Ministry! He just told us to say we wasn't! Anyway, we didn't mean to attack your kid, Mr. Weasley."

Ginny had never seen her dad get furious before. Right now he looked about ready to punch his way through the bubble and do bad things to Punter. "Da?"

Her father froze and reached out to her. He held her tight enough that she trembled a little—feeling on the edge of becoming incorporeal again. "Punter—"

"Yeah, Mr. Weasley?"

"I'll tell someone at the Ministry you're here." Ginny's father nodded to Shining.

Flicking the ball again with his magic, Shining let out a sigh. "He can't hear us now. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"No, Mr.—Your Highness, I'm sorry that we seem to have brought a problem to your world and dumped it on you." Rubbing Ginny's back, her father straightened. "I'll be going to the Ministry now to have a talk with a few people I'd hazard to call friends."

Letting go of her father, Ginny bit her lower lip and looked over at Searing Spear. "Thank you—for protecting me."

Searing held her stance for a moment before walking forward to Ginny and bowing her head. "Thanking me? There's no telling what they might have done to me. Thank you."





Ginny didn't get to go to the Ministry with her father the next day. She asked her mother if she could go to the castle for her daily lesson with Cadance, but her mother had just given her a glaring stare that silenced her.

"I'm going to spend some time studying." Ginny discorporated her form and went to the Slytherin common room again. It was far more cozy now it was pink and not green, but she ignored all that and sat on a chair while pulling her legs up against her chest. "This sucks.

"It wasn't like they could beat me. I was defending Searing perfectly fine! I can look after myself!" Grabbing up a cushion from the couch, Ginny threw it across the room at the wall. "And now I'm grounded because I did the right thing!

She stewed on the subject further, growling or letting loose with magic alternately as her anger played out. When she heard her father's voice outside her book, though, she quickly worked the spell to manifest herself again.

"Ginny," her father said, sounding a little surprised. "I don't want my little girl tangled up in all this mess, but it looks like I'm not going to get a say in it."

"Arthur…" Ginny's mum said.

"She's already involved, Molly. Keeping this from Ginny will only leave her ignorant, not safe." Her father turned to Ginny. "It's what those at the castle said. Herb tried to explain it away as a miscommunication and we handled this without you because you were too close to those involved."

"That's a load of hogwash!" Ginny's mother said. "I should march up there and—"

"I've been talking with others from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They're not happy with what Herb is doing, mostly because he's employing draconian tactics that even the Aurors wouldn't undertake." Sitting down at the table, Ginny's father took the cup of tea her mum passed him and sipped at it. "Punter's not meant to be doing enforcement—he was hired as a clerk because his father wanted him to have a position at the Ministry and had enough strings to pull to get him in. Him and his lot are thugs."

It was the most frank Ginny had ever heard her father. He'd always spoken with pride about the witches and wizards working for the Ministry. To hear him call them thugs was a shock. "S-So, what can we do about it?"

"What can we—?" Ginny's father looked surprised at the question from her.

"See? This is what comes of bringing your work home. Now our Ginny wants to take up her wand. Have you—"

"Mum!" Ginny had never raised her voice to her mother before—not seriously. She hoped she didn't look too startled by her own shout. "Mum, what am I meant to do? They want to take my diary. They want to take me. If I don't do something, next time they might do it."

Ginny's mum narrowed her eyes for a moment, then let out a sigh. "You're growing up too fast by half."

"But I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes. Yes you're right. That's why we're going to have our own lessons." Puffing herself up a little more, Ginny's mum looked at her with a challenging expression. "If you're going to war, you're going to do it right."

Clearing his throat, then looking apologetic for it, Ginny's father went on. "We're having a meeting tonight—the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, that is. You're welcome to attend, Ginevra."

When her father broke out her actual name, Ginny knew he was serious.

"Well, she'd better go now, because I can tell you right now, Arthur, I'll be going. The odds that the boys will miss this are very slim—which means there will be no one to protect Ginny." Her mum gave Ginny a firm look that brooked no argument.

"What about inviting Cadance or Shining to attend?" Ginny asked.

"It's none of their—" Looking surprised at his own vehemence, Ginny's father sighed. "Well, I guess it is their business. Okay, we need to go and have a chat with them and see if they'd like to attend."





Shining Armor brought a second pair of eyes to the meeting with him. Candle Light stood at his side, a mare who Ginny had noticed was always looking anywhere but where you expected. She had a fairly normal coat and mane color (yellow coat and orange/red mane and tail), but there was something about her that just seemed a little more intense than any other pony she'd met.

"I'd like to make my stance known first, so you know what you're dealing with from at least one authority in the Crystal Empire," Shining Armor said. His words got a lot of nodding from those assembled, but there was one—one paranoid old Auror—who stomped his way up to the front ranks before Shining.

"What right do you have to stand there and here?" Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody asked. His wild eye circled once around before focusing on Shining.

"You want all my credentials, fine." Shining closed his eyes and then he started to speak. "I grew up in Canterlot with amazing parents and an equally amazing sister. I attended Princess Celestia's school. I joined the E.U.P. Guard as soon as I was old enough, raised through the ranks with determination and hard work. Joined Princess Celestia's Royal Guard and again rose through the ranks to commander. I met a beautiful mare who was just crazy enough to marry me. Our wedding was the scene of a covert invasion attempt—emphasis on attempt. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna recognized our potential and sent us here."

"If even half of that's true, you have a better character than 'alf of this lot—me included. Alright, Arthur, where do we stand with these daft bastards?" Alastor seemed to forget all about Shining now, turning his gaze on Ginny's dad.

"It's Herb from the Obliviators. He's lost it completely." Ginny's father raised his voice. "Who here's actually been called in to do their job?" When no one actually said anything, he nodded. "And yet he got Punter and his mates to nab my Ginny's diary—the one she's stuck in. They attacked one of Shining's soldiers, and it was only Ginny's quick thinking that saved the pair of them."

Alastor looked pretty angry, turned, and spat on the ground. "Sendin' untrained wizards to—Was there any reason why he didn't just talk to you?"

Losing track of things a little, Ginny could still hear murmuring among the other wizards and witches present. She barely realized when the crystal pony that'd come with Shining, Candle, had slipped up beside her. "Uh, hello."

"Hey, my name's Candle. The Empress asked me to come along and keep an eye out for you. What's—?" Candle froze when two ponies walked up and flanked her. "Excuse me, I was—"

"Oh, we know what you was doing, miss." George distracted the strange pony as Ron circled around Candle to put himself between Ginny and the mare.

"Everyfin," Fred added. "Why, we even know—"

"Ugh." Ginny had finally had enough of her brothers' antics. "It's okay. She's okay. Shining picked her to be here, and he wouldn't pick a pony he didn't trust."

Ron seemed to take it as a challenge. He puffed out his chest and, despite being shorter than her, attempted to give Candle an intimidating glare. "Yeah? Then what does she do? Why does he trust her?"

"You could have led with that." Candle glanced in Shining's direction, then looked back at Ron. "I'm a spy."

Ron's eyes widened. "I knew it!"

"Well, to clarify, I'm Shining and Cadance's spy. I'm here to familiarize myself with everyone important in this organization so I can recognize them again should they need help." Candle lifted her hoof and poked Ron in the chest. "What do you do?"

"I—I take care of my family and friends is what I do."

Ginny considered that she could either get really mad at her brothers or think they were being super-awesome. While it was a bit annoying, she tried to go with the latter. "Everyone is kinda looking after me, but I can take care of myself."

George pushed Ron to one side and sidled up to Ginny. "I heard about that. Dualing ten wizards at the same time and not missing a beat!"

"I 'eard she was fighting twenty," Fred said. "And two of them were Voldemort."

"If Mum heard you, she'd clip you both around the ears." Ginny reached down and put her hands on Fred and George's shoulders. "Sorry to waste your time, Miss Candle, but my brothers are a little overprotective. Also, it was only five, and none of them were Tom."

"Tom?" Fred asked.

George nodded. "Tom Waysander. Ginny's new boyfriend."

"He's not—Wait. Who's Tom Waysander?" Ginny asked, starting to feel lost again, but at least now it was well-trodden ground. "I meant Tom Riddle, Voldemort."

"Oh, little sis is on a first-name basis with 'im now." Fred held a hoof up to the side of his face and asked too loudly to possibly hide it from the others, "Is he a good kisser, then?"

"I bet he is. 'Ad a lot of time to practice an' all that. Here, Ginny, isn't he a younger chap in there with you?" George asked.

"He's not in here anymore. I kinda take his place in classes and stuff." Barely able to stop herself from giving her brothers more ammunition, she manifested her wand into her hand. She glared at her three brothers. "Next one to speak gets silenced."

Ron opened his mouth.

"I mean it! If you're going to stay over here, you need to let other people talk."

George opened his mouth next, and before he knew what had happened Ginny had cast a spell on him.

"Here, where'd you learn that? That's fifth-year level, that is!" Fred was next to get hit with the silence spell.

Ron, showing the most sense of the three, clamped both forehooves over his mouth and shook his head.

"Right. Glad we all have an understanding. That will wear off in a little while, or you can go and ask Mum to remove it." Ginny let her breath out. "And if you must know, I've been working on my dueling. Silencing charm is basically an I win in those situations, because any witch worth her salt can brush aside someone who can only cast non-verbally."

"Clever. I take it you're learning these things in the diary, ahead of your normal class level?" Candle asked.

Ginny sighed in relief at not being interrupted. "Yes. I'm learning things that Tom—the previous owner—was taught. He had a strict teacher for dueling, and she was teaching all her students spells far beyond their normal class load."

"Very handy. Cadance mentioned that you could change how fast or slow time ran in there. How many days can you study in one day?"

Ron, showing he was a little smarter than his brothers, sat down and just listened.

"Well, I could probably manage two to three days of study, but it's tiring. The more I focus on study, the closer to normal time the diary works, and if I'm interacting like this, I have to keep it at normal time."

Candle raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Have you tried? Have you attempted to make yourself faster while out here like this?"

"I—" Ginny started to reply, then had to restart when her thoughts started chewing up the problem. "You know, I haven't. I just assumed that was the case."

"Well, why not try it?" Candle asked.

Ginny was almost at the point where she was going to try, but then remembered that the magic she'd be burning wasn't her own. "Not now. I need to check with Princess Cadance before I do anything new. Last time she tried having me pick up my diary and the drain of that almost drained her completely."

"Oh." Squeezing her lips into a tight line, Candle let out a sigh. "Sorry. All this magic is a bit beyond me. I have the same basic magics of all crystal ponies, but what you wizards do is beyond amazing."

"Witch."

"Huh?"

"I'm a witch. Wizard is the male term, witch the female." Ginny giggled a little at the mistake once she realized there was no intent to insult her.

"You witches do amazing things." Candle raised an eyebrow.





The details of what was going on with the Ministry became secondary to Ginny's efforts to improve her magic and, in particular, her dueling. When she wasn't studying in Tom's classes, she was either working at dueling with Walburga Black or learning magic with Cadance.

What had surprised her was learning tricks from Candle. "So I hide it like this?"

Candle Light winced at the attempt to conceal a coin. "If your arm wasn't transparent, yes. You could try lining the coin up edge-ways with your line there." She reached out her hoof and gently prodded Ginny's arm. "How's your dueling going?"

Flicking the coin a little more with her fingers, Ginny managed to line it up with the line of her drawing-like arm. "Good. I've been goading Walburga each time to get her to fight me, but even that isn't enough anymore. I'm going to try cloning her in the book so I can fight multiples at once."

"That's good, but there might be a better way. Why not clone yourself and duel them?" Candle pulled out a deck of cards and started working on shuffling them in various ways.

"But I want to learn how to fight dark wizards."

Passing the cards to Ginny, Candle raised an eyebrow at her. "And those thugs from the Ministry—were those dark wizards?"

Learning sleight of hand from a pony had taught Ginny the concepts, but there was so much she could do with her fingers that ponies couldn't with their hooves. She was basically inventing card and coin tricks as she went. "Well, no…"

"And dueling is two things, being fast and knowing what spell to use?"

"Yeah."

"So it seems like trying to improve your reflexes would be best done by fighting yourself. That way, as you get better, you have continually-improving opponents." When Ginny held out a fan of cards, Candle plucked one out with her hoof, looked at it, then slipped it back in.

Shuffling the cards, Ginny half focused on what her hands were doing while also mulling over Candle's words. "I guess. I do need to get faster with slinging spells. I want to practice in real life a bit, too."

"Well, you'll either need a unicorn or one of your compatriots for that, I'm afraid." Candle burned Ginny's hands, watching for the tricks she'd been working on.

"This is your card?" Ginny asked, dealing the top one off and showing it to Candle.

"Ha! No—"

The smile never left Ginny's face as she held up the deck to reveal Candle's card was on the bottom.

"Now you're really getting it. I saw the force, but it was more subtle than your last one." Taking the cards back, Candle started to shuffle them herself. "You need to use some misdirection so people don't see you push the card to them. Stare into their eyes to break their focus, mouth something to them, or even use your magic to distract."

The suggestion sparked an idea for Ginny. She looked at the cards and started to smile wider and wider. "That's the best idea ever. Misdirection!"

Shuffling the cards, Candle raised an eyebrow at Ginny. "Huh?"

"With my magic. No, wait, I don't mean using magic to misdirect—that's not a bad idea, though—what I mean is to use misdirection while dueling. Distract them with magic while using magic!" Ginny's thoughts started to race and she tried to come up with all the ideas for distracting and misdirecting magic she could. "I think I—"

"That's a good idea." Candle held out the cards again. "But you have time to work on that later. Now, show me how you'd best misdirect me while trying to do a card force."





Ginny looked at her brothers and let out a sigh. "This isn't working."

"It's not bloody working, Ginny, because you're kicking our arses." Ron struggled to get his forehooves under him. His wand, made of the wood from the whomping willow, lay on the ground in front of him.

"Yeah, Gin. We get that you're getting good at this—" Fred said.

George groaned and shook his head. "… but when you took out Bill, too, that's just bananas."

Bill actually had a wide smile for his sister. "It's a good trick, Ginny. I'd have never thought to use faster, distracting spells to put a wizard off while you build up something better."

"Who can I test it on next?" Ginny asked, already pondering ways to use such basic spells as she'd been working with.

"Well, Dad's kinda busy. Have you thought about asking at the school?" Finally standing on his own four hooves, Ron picked up his wand and slid it into his hidden holster. "I'd like to see you try Dumbledore or McGonagall."

"As if I could even face them like that." Despite downplaying, Ginny bit her lower lip and pondered exactly that. She'd seen how fast Dumbledore could cast a spell without uttering a word at the battle with all the crystal ponies. She'd even seen McGonagall doing amazing feats of casting herself. "But hopefully they'll know people I can learn from."

The problem for Ginny was she had no one to take her to the school that day, so she spent the afternoon and evening helping her mum make food up. It was simple work—making stews and duplicating them just once—but it was rewarding and let her chat with her mother about magic.

The next day she was scheduled to spend a day learning with Cadance. The walk to the castle, as always, was tense. "How are things going with the Ministry?"

"Worse than ever. Our guards are keeping them out of the open, but they've taken to hit-and-run tactics. If you get caught out alone, well, put up a signal flare and try to hold out as long as you can." Shining had Ginny's diary in his saddlebags, safe and sound as they approached the steps of the castle.

"So with the new school year starting, things are expected to be bad?" Ginny asked.

Shining paused for a moment and clenched his teeth. "I sent a message to their leader. I told him if his people disrupt a single student, I'll deal with them as if they're an enemy of the Crystal Empire."

"How'd that go?" Ginny walked up the stairs beside Shining.

"They'll find out if they test it. I didn't want to put a line in the sand, but foals are—sorry, children are that line." Shining's horn flared bright pink and the side entrance doors of the castle opened smoothly for them.

Inside, Ginny spotted Cadance talking to another pony she recognized. Gemma Farley. When she'd first found out Gemma was giving Cadance advice, she'd panicked, but then she'd slowly gotten to know Gemma.

Ruthless, utterly single-minded, and loyal to a fault to Cadance and Shining. It was a shock for Ginny to find herself admiring that, but after knowing so many Slytherin house students in the book, she now had a new appreciation for their skills.

Cadance lifted her head from the discussion she was having with Gemma to look their way. "Ginny! We were just discussing an idea that I'd like your input on."

The swell of love from being near Cadance made Ginny's lines turn a light shade of pink. She kept to the side a little, however, knowing there was a more important greeting about to happen. When Shining advanced directly to Cadance, Ginny felt almost overwhelmed with raw magic. Her diary was buzzing with energy and, for a moment, she contemplated if she would have enough magic to lift her book herself.

"Ginny Weasley. How's life in a book treating you?" Gemma asked as she approached Ginny. "We've been working on a way to show people what the Ministry is actually doing. It's hard, though. All the older wizards and witches seem so fixated on the Ministry being a thing that they don't accept that it shouldn't be."

Trying to ignore the smooching monarchs, Ginny looked down at the ground and tried to follow the problem Gemma was presenting. "Well, I mean, we could try luring the Ministry to do something bad in a public meeting."

"What's this? A Gryffindor using guile?" Smirking, Gemma raised an eyebrow. "Been learning things in that book, have we?"

For a moment Ginny contemplated denying it, but it was the truth. Also, Candle had been teaching her tricky things too. "Spending all day around Slytherin means I'm gonna pick some things up. So, good idea?"

"Great idea, except Cadance already turned it down. She wants them uncovered without any risk. I tried to argue that that's not how this will work, but she too nice for her own good."

The wistful sigh Gemma made surprised Ginny. "You don't think that's good?"

"What? No, it's perfect. Literally perfect. You think I would help someone else like this? Shining and Cadance are—They're pure. They will stand up for the rights of every downtrodden pony. They would even defend the Ministry if a greater threat arrived and threatened to smash the fools." Gemma shrugged her shoulders. "So we keep working at other ideas until the big event."

"Big event?" Ginny asked.

"We're—" Gemma turned to look at Cadance and Shining, only to see them still talking. "Well, you're in on all this anyway. We're holding a coronation. Shining and Cadance are going to take their full titles and give titles to two ponies and two humans. Well, former humans."

Ginny jumped ahead in her reading of the situation. She wasn't as canny as Gemma, but she could follow along with the older witch's plans. "And inviting the Ministry, I take it?"

"Absolutely. They will learn their place is below not just pony royalty, but also below the wizard and witch we will be giving titles. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone, you understand, but our aim is to not just show them how small they are, but to make it an event where we can spot every one of their agents."

"Ahem." Walking over to Gemma and Ginny, Fire Glow insinuated himself into the conversation. "Needless to say, we don't want to outright provoke them, so it would be best if you were not present, Miss Weasley."

"Well," Gemma winked at Ginny, "if we were aiming to cause the Ministry to lash out publicly, that'd be a grand way to do it. But we're not doing that." She sighed expressively and rolled her eyes.

"So what can I do?" Ginny asked. "I've been practicing dueling."

"We're hoping it won't come to a magic fight at the ceremony. If it does, we'll have to put the Ministry down fast." Shining was done greeting Cadance and had wandered over to the trio. "So it might not be a bad idea to have you there, just not on display."

"Wait, why?" Gemma asked.

"Because we've been training Ginny." Cadance kept her eyes locked on Ginny as she spoke. "You told me, when you first came to me, that you wanted to protect people. I've been guiding you into the use of love magic and Candle has been teaching you deception. After the little brawl with the Ministry wizards trying to foalnap you the first time, and the training you've put yourself through, I think they would struggle to get a spell anywhere near you now. Isn't that right, Ginny?"

Ginny could just stare at Cadance. The encouragement she'd gotten from Cadance now seemed so obvious to her. "I—I did want that, and I still do. I'm just—You spent so much time with me. I didn't think it was—"

"You've been practicing day and night in that diary. I can feel every bit of magic you draw from me, Ginny. Candle tells me you've had a new breakthrough with your deception training. What was it?"

It was still impossible to actually blush as a line drawing, but Ginny wouldn't have been surprised if she was. "I—I started using misdirection, it's a sleight of hand trick, to hide what spells I was casting. I tested it with my brothers."

"Your brothers are no older than I am," Gemma said.

"I tried it with Bill, too. He—he didn't do any better than the others. It just seemed so easy to confuse them to look where I wanted them looking."

"That's why I want you there. If those wizards from the Ministry start anything, I trust that you can at least recognize what they're doing and put a stop to it." Cadance smiled and raised one eyebrow, clearly fishing for a reply.

"You gave me everything I asked for." The realization was less of a shock than knowing Cadance could arrange it all without so much as a hint. "And there's another good thing, you don't need to have me like this. I can hear just fine inside the book, and I can manifest with a moment's notice."

Gemma stared between the two royals and finally settled her gaze on Ginny. "This is absolute madness, but with this thing going on, it's a good strategy."





Ginny was straining as far as she could to hear everything. Every murmur, every whisper, and every gasp of shock was hers to process as the party went on around them. She listened as Jenny Sparks talked to Candle, she listened closer still as the Ministry wizards tried to get together and discuss Jenny's quick departure.

Just like they'd planned, Ginny performed three quick acts of magic within the book, causing Cadance's magic to flicker. She could count the seconds until the diary was opened as Cadance disengaged from her conversation partner.

"Yes, Ginny?"



The Ministry wizards are trying to get together and do something. They noticed Jenny go missing.



"Thank you. The witch in question is being taken to a safe location. If you hear them starting to act, feel free to manifest yourself."

Cadance sounded sure of herself. It made Ginny worry just a little less. She kept up listening when she heard what she'd worried about. Two syllables—"oh" and "bha". Slowing time to a crawl, she manifested herself out of the book and was eye-to-eye with a wizard that had his wand raised and pointed at Cadance.

A fast spell was needed, something she could cast before the next syllable of the spell finished. It wasn't a hard choice given she'd used this spell on countless wizards and witches in duels. Fracturing jinxes were so simple she'd learned it in her first year. She raised the caricature of her wand, pointed, and let loose with an orange blast of magic that homed-in on the wizard's wand.

Herbert Trencent looked shocked when he got less than half his spell out and his wand snapped in half when a jolt of orange magic connected with it. He had to squint to make out the shape of something between him and his intended target.

"What type of spell was that?" Cadance asked.

"Memory charm. He was trying to wipe part or all of your memory." Ginny felt sick to her stomach at how close it'd been to a successful ploy. "He can't cast now his wand is broken."

"Thank you, Ginny. Feel free to remain out now. The cat is out of the bag." Cadance walked up beside Ginny, and then walked with her toward Trencent. "What is the meaning of that spell you just attempted to cast on myself?"

Trencent looked from his broken wand to Ginny, but then settled his view on Cadance—a worried expression on his face. "Y-You misunderstand, Your Imperial Majesty, I was merely casting a-a detection spell. I only wished to divine the full extent of your magic heritage."

"That's b—" Ginny stopped. She wanted to give him a good yelling at, but Cadance had murmured a word under her breath—wait. So she bit back the rest of her outburst and instead focused on the other Ministry wizards around them.

There were three wizards who looked to have itchy hands wandering to where they might have a wand concealed. She was so focused she barely heard what Cadance said.

"While it's appreciated that you have the initiative to learn more about ponies, we would ask you not to attempt casting spells on us. Our protectors may take things the wrong way."

Trencent's eyes flicked toward Ginny. "I had meant to ask about that. This is the young child who became trapped in that evil artifact?"

Wincing at being called a young child, Ginny was about to protest against the book being called evil, but she heard Cadance inhale, and remembered she'd been told to keep quiet.

"The artifact itself bears no predilection toward evil or good. Evil magics were used in its making, but since then it has saved a life. As for my apprentice's stature, I myself had to face down an evil sorceress when I was but a filly. Sometimes the drive to fight for one's friends and family is far greater than age might suggest. She has both the skills and the ethics required of her station, and I couldn't be prouder of her." Cadance's voice had become a moving mountain of ideas. It was like nothing could stop her from saying her piece. "And I intend to continue to tutor her for as long as she would allow me."

Ginny found herself staring at Cadance in surprise. She hadn't heard the story Cadance was referring to, but she was excited to hear it now. She tried not to look at Cadance and grin, but it was a hard fight given the circumstances.

"Well, if that's your intent, I certainly won't get in the way—though I will be appraising her parents of your intentions." Slipping away his broken wand, Trencent gave a bow and then turned—leaving the pair behind without a shred of his magic clinging to them.

Only where the Ministry wizards were out of earshot did Cadance turn to Ginny. "You did great. We stopped their ploy and you proved yourself."

It was a moment of pride for Ginny, but she couldn't help but remember what Cadance had said before. "You really want me to be your apprentice? How will that work with Hogwarts?"

"We'll make it work. You only need to spend a few minutes with me in your book to spend an hour or two studying. We'll talk to our new duchess to arrange those minutes each day." Cadance looked around the party and noticed the Ministry wizards had all filtered out.

Candle Light slipped up beside Cadance and Ginny. "I arranged for our guest to be somewhere safe. Did everything go according to plan?"

"Mostly, but at the same time no. Herbert Trencent tried to modify my memories. Ginny stopped him, but I understand it was a near-thing?" Cadance looked to Ginny with a raised eyebrow and got a nod in reply. "So we have to count the Ministry as outwardly hostile now."

"That's exactly what my guest said would be used on her should she try to resign from the Ministry. I offered her safety and relief from such things. She's in the guest suite next to yours, with a pair of unicorn guards watching the door." Looking at Ginny, Candle gave the girl her brightest smile. "You stopped him?"

"Broke his wand in half with a jinx. It was surprising, though. He's meant to be a big-shot Obliviator, but any witch or wizard should have had a shield up if they were planning to do any kind of offensive magic." Now that she thought on it, Ginny had no idea why he wouldn't have.

"He thought he had me alone." Cadance spread a wing and gently used it to hug Ginny. "He didn't expect me to know what spell he was casting. He certainly didn't expect me to respond in time to stop him, and by then it would have been too late."

Ginny was surprised at how exacting Cadance was in her estimation. It was a complete shock to her, though, how close things had come to the Ministry getting the upper hand. "I can't be with you every day. Protecting you, I mean."

"Now we know they're hostile, though, we can take advantage of that." Clearing her throat, Cadance affected a posh voice. "You must understand, we don't want another misunderstanding like at the party, so we'll have to ask you to leave your wands at the door."

Candle snorted. "That will work. Do we have a way to detect if they try to sneak a wand in?"

When both of them looked at Ginny, she shook her head. "I've been focusing on dueling, remember? Maybe you could try asking one of Hogwarts' teachers?"

"A good idea if I've heard one. I'll try asking our new guest, then I'll head upstairs and ask there." Cadance nodded to Candle. "If you'll arrange for my husband to escort Ginny home?"

Bowing her head, Candle smirked and replied, "Of course, Your Imperial Majesty."





After the big night, things settled back down for Ginny. She got back into her training and didn't encounter a single Ministry wizard on her way to and from the castle. As the weeks passed, The Burrow got an owl-delivered letter from Hogwarts.



Ginevra Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Frederic Weasley, and George Weasley,

We expect school to start within two weeks, and are inviting any students who wish to continue their classes here at Hogwarts to be here shortly. Below is a list of things you're expected to bring. 



"Are we, Mum?" George asked.

Looking among her children, Ginny's mum closed her eyes for a moment. "I can't think of a safer place for you than Hogwarts. There're strange things afoot, and your father is landing himself right in the middle of it. Let's see that list and we'll get you your things somehow."

"Don't you mean ahoof, Mum?" Fred asked.

Now a pony herself, Ginny's mum was lightning fast with batting at her son's ears with a hoof. "You mind your manners up there. Your teachers are under extra stress now, and the last thing the school needs is to lose another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

George leaned to the side and shoved Fred. "Well, we had Dumbledore at the end of last semester. If he keeps doing it, I can't see anythin' bad happening to him."

"Doesn't matter. I don't want to be hearing you two causing problems. Don't think I can't march up there and grab you both by the ears and haul you home again."

George and Fred looked at each other and sighed. "Yes, Mum."

"And you all watch out for Ginny. Don't let any strangers run-off with her book."

Ron joined in with the twins in their chorus. "Yes, Mum."

"And all of you, I want you to study hard and don't get caught up in any antics from the Ministry."

Now Ginny grinned and waited for her brothers to start before joining them. "Yes, Mum."

"We'll catch a train to Canterlot tomorrow and see about buying the things you need. The princess has been nice enough to sponsor our Ginny with her tuition, and when she heard about you other three she added a bit more to help. I tried to tell her we couldn't take it, but you can't just say no to royalty."

Ginny nodded to that. "Found that out too. They, I mean Cadance and Shining, expect to have whatever they ask for followed to the letter. But it—they don't ever ask for too much. I'm saying this wrong. What I mean is—"

"It's alright, dear. Things are just a little odd right now. Hopefully by next semester they'll be a bit calmer." Ginny's mum knew exactly how much hugging her daughter could take before it would break her spell—she'd been testing it every day of late—and tested it right then and there. "Now, I asked Minerva to send a letter to Harry, he should get it around the end of the week. He's going to try to contact Charlie."
> Ginevra Weasley
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Harry?" Ginevra Molly Weasley looked down on the humans and ponies that milled around, but her focus was briefly on just one. Harry Potter looked up at her and seemed—not actually terrified, but he definitely didn't look like he'd spotted a friend. It took Ginevra a moment to realize it was because she looked like a Dementor.

But that wasn't important to her task. She was doing this to help free Harry and her old friends from the alicorns.

"Ginevra, something bothers you?" Sombra asked as they flew away from the Crystal Empire on Igor Karkaroff's back. In one talon he held Bellatrix Lestrange—now a huge timberwolf—in the other he held Peter Pettigrew—now a pony. They hadn't all made it through the portal, but of those that did Sombra was most pleased to have the more powerful creatures—and Peter.

With her hands pressed to Igor's neck, Ginevra shook her head. "Just remembering what I'm fighting for. My friends were back there, probably under the control of those alicorns."

"True enough, Ginevra. We all fight for something. Hold the memories of your friends close as we fight against tyranny." The devotion of his apprentice was still something Sombra was working on correcting. Time, he was sure, would cure her of such softness. "Our first order of business is to establish horcruxes for me. Your dragon and your wolf don't need them, and death is a good incentive to your other pet to keep him from misbehaving."

"H-Horcruxes…" How a spectral representation of herself stuttered, Ginevra would never understand. She had to put it down to getting used to the form.

Sombra nodded. "I would not wish to leave you before you are fully trained in the arts of magic. You, of course, do not need one." Sombra reached a hoof out to press it against Ginevra. "You have already lost your soul, which is why I am sharing mine with you."

"W-Wait, what? I don't understand."

"Why do you think I shared a link with you? You are a self-perpetuating magical phantasm, but only with a soul can you be anchored to this world." Sombra pointed his hoof to the warmer regions of Equestria. "That way, we must avoid Canterlot. I had some workers in a mine down there. With luck they have amassed a good supply of crystal for us to use."





Igor Karkaroff's wings didn't tire and his will didn't waver. He followed orders, just like when he was with the Death Eaters, and it suited him for things to be that way again. Always, since the first wizarding war, he'd felt vulnerable to being ousted as a Death Eater, but now he had two powerful beings ensuring his survival.

When he heard a shout to land, he set himself up for a descent and began to spiral down to the ground. Only when he landed, and dropped Bellatrix and Peter, did he remember how big he was again. Sombra and Ginevra were tiny beside him, as was Peter. Bellatrix, when she stood up, was still small, but she was much larger than the others.

Ginevra walked around in front of Igor and reached out to him. When he lowered his head to her, she pressed her hands on each side of his huge muzzle, over the twin white hand-prints she'd burned into his scales. "Thank you, Igor."

Igor rumbled softly, the chill of Ginevra's touch still chilled him, but it no longer hurt—merely a sign that he yet lived.

Sombra led the way to blind canyon nearby that had rock walls and a strong wind that blew up the center—scouring the ground there of sand. Deep in the canyon, under an overhang, sat a small building. "This is hidden from overhead observation. It was unusual for magical minerals to be this pure here, and I definitely didn't want to share."

"We'll be making horcruxes with it?" Ginevra floated along at Sombra's side, relishing the dark of the cave when they found it.

"Yes, but we also need to remove that amulet from your pet." Sombra gestured to Peter, who was the only other of their companions who could fit in the cave. "That is already a horcrux, and a powerful one. It will give you limited control over any who wears it."

"It will need to be longer, both to get it off him and for another to be able to put it on." Ginevra floated over to Peter and pinned him still with her mind. "Or we could create a clasp on it."

"A clasp. It must be under your control—you don't want someone to take it off before you're ready." Sombra, as always, guided his apprentice to the path he wished.

Ginevra examined the amulet, the way it seemed wrapped around something deep inside it—a piece of Sombra's soul—and how magic twisted and turned throughout it. Carefully, she reached into the metal at the back and started to carefully redirect the lines of magic back upon themselves. "What if only the wearer could take it off?"

Grinning, Sombra relished the easy way she'd come to that conclusion. "And why would that work?"

"Because I'd be in control of them. I could stop them from taking it off." With the final bands of magic diverted, she started planning in her mind what the clasp should look like—and the metal reshaped.

"Good. Good. You can feel what needs to be done instinctively. How well do you see the bands of magic within the amulet?" Sombra's eyes burned brightly as he watched Ginevra work.

"Now, give me the amulet." Ginevra's tone carried enough command that she saw Peter's eyes widen in shock. When he reached up and took it off, she held out her spectral hand and took it. Her grip on him didn't slip, not after all the effort she'd gone to to break Peter. "There, now we could find one of the alicorns to put it on."

"That would be amazing, but none of them would let us get near. No, we will pass it off to a pony, any pony, and set about drawing it toward an alicorn in a spiral." Walking over to Ginevra, Sombra reached out with his magic and put a finishing touch on it.

Ginevra's hands practically smoked as she felt the spell her master just cast try to claw into her mind. It wasn't easy, but she fought-off the magic and reestablished her sense of self. "What is it doing?"

"It wants you to put it on. It wants everypony to put it on." Sombra grinned a hellish grin. "That will be how it spirals to an alicorn—it will belong to the strongest."

"That—That's genius. All we need to do is find the right pony to give this to." Biting her lip, Ginevra thought about what would be the easiest way to do so.

"And the easiest way to do that is to sell it. A pony who buys power deserves it least. Have your pet take it to a city and sell it to someone. Offer them power and their dreams are fulfilled."

Turning back to Peter, Ginevra clamped down hard on his mind and slipped into him. His body was weak compared to her spectral form, but it served her well enough. "I have learned, master, that if I wish this rat to do something important, I have to do it myself."

"You've learned well, my apprentice. Hurry back and I will hold off the creation of further horcruxes until your return." Sombra's eyes danced with the joy he found in teaching another all he knew of the dark arts.





Driving Peter onward had been a simple task. When he needed food, however, she relaxed her grip on him just enough to allow him that small grace. In the desert, however, he wasn't able to find much more than tough grass in small clumps and insects. Ginevra despised Peter a little more now that she knew what the latter tasted like.

After two days, however, Ginevra found herself staring at a city in the distance and, by the following morning, they were walking into the outer limits of it.

As far as cities went, this was stereotypically Egyptian in design, but to Ginevra that just seemed as good a level of crazy as anything else. A water fountain saw Peter getting his first drink in days, and with that she pushed him to find the right kind of merchant.

The pressure eased from Peter's mind. He could think again, but he had a directive and every action would lead toward its completion. Staggering down the street, wishing he'd had some way to bring the water with him, he saw many stores, but none seemed right. When he slipped into an alley, however, he discovered the perfect one.

Inside, there was junk everywhere. Ginevra could sense that not a single one of the magical amulets, gemstones, or wands had a wink of magic in them.

"Can I help you?"

Ginevra turned at the sound and spotted a pony behind the counter. "Yes, I wish to sell something."

"Something precious if you don't carry it in the open. I must see it before I'll offer you any bits."

The brown pony's speech made Ginevra roll Peter's eyes at the drama of it. Lifting the amulet from its bag, she held it out to the merchant. "You can look, but know that if you touch it, you have agreed to buy it."

"An interesting gambit, and one I normally use." The pony reached a hoof out and picked up the amulet. "But you should have set a price. I'll buy it, but whether for one gold or an alum is a whole other kettle of corn."

Looking with her magical sight, Ginevra watched the spell reach out to the merchant to grab him, but something made her halt it. She reached her own magic out and calmed the spell, promising it that the next pony it finds will be far more suitable. "How much?"

"A useless piece of jewelry. Two silver bits." A paltry sum by Equestrian ideals, where silver was plentiful and was the second-lowest denomination.

"It's worth more than that. Give it back and I'll sell it to someone who's serious." Ginevra held Peter's hoof out.

"Five copper."

Ginevra wasn't sure how much copper and gold balanced out, but she'd seen people haggle for prices before. "Twenty."

"Two alum?! I—One, alum, and that's my final offer. Take it or leave it."

"That will do. I couldn't be bothered walking somewhere else anyway." Ginevra tried to do her best well, I didn't really want it after all follow-up. "Just give me my money and I'll be out of here." She could already see the magic Sombra had placed on the amulet stretching out around the room, barely avoiding the shopkeeper.

"Here's ten copper—one alum—now go before I call the Guard in on you for asking such a price." The merchant paused. "What's it called?"

Thinking for a moment, Ginevra almost laughed as she told him, "The alicorn amulet."

Shooed out of the shop, Ginevra smiled fit to make even Peter's face look almost pleasing, and trotted back to the edge of town. The walk back to the cave was no less horrid given she hadn't spent any of the coins of food or drink for Peter, such that when they arrived at the cave and Ginevra left him, he scrabbled around the cave looking for water.

Ginevra grabbed her ten coins as she left Peter behind to his hunt for water, and proceeded deeper into the cave to find Sombra. When she found him, he was pouring his magic into seemingly identical bowls—five of them.

"You sold it?" Sombra asked.

"I did. I also adjusted the magic you placed on it so it wouldn't affect the merchant I sold it to. I told him it was called the alicorn amulet, and got ten copper coins for it. I have no idea what they're worth, he seemed to think gold was really low or something." Ginevra held out the coins for Sombra.

"The currency scale used to be—gold, silver, copper, then aluminum. The harder a metal is to acquire, the more its value." Sombra glanced at the coins and huffed. "You got a good price for a random item. Keep the coins, apprentice, they are your reward."

Looking at the coins in her hand, Ginevra thought about what they meant and how they might be used. She wasn't sure how long she'd been quiet for until Sombra cleared his throat. "S-Sorry."

Outrage that someone would ignore his words was barely kept in check by Sombra's curiosity. "All is forgiven if you convey your thoughts."

Ginevra smiled sheepishly at that. "I was wondering if I should take actions to support myself should something happen to you. These"—she held up the coins—"could be used to allow me access to other souls."

Again, Sombra considered outrage. She was his student to mold and control, but he couldn't help but admire her willingness to survive at any cost. It was a topic near and dear to his heart. "You wish to escape my control?"

"N—" She didn't want to lie to him. "Yes, but only so you'll see me as an equal. I want to work with you to free the world from these alicorns' control. I want to be strong enough that you don't need to help me."

Thinking on the matter, Sombra considered how to handle the situation. The balance of giving her some more freedom against making her more loyal to his course was the question. But, of course, her undertaking this will give her a taste for something no good creature ever would. Right now he was sharing his soul with her willingly, but this idea of hers was predatory. "Consider it a project. Make one coin, and I will test how well you have wrought the magic."

Excitement buzzed through Ginevra. She lifted one of the coins and examined it. "What do the alum coins look like? Aluminum? So they'd be lighter and silvery in appearance." Changing the metal's properties was as simple as breathing. Ginevra warped the color of the copper to resemble the chrome-like silver of aluminum, and then made the coin significantly lighter.

Watching Ginevra work, Sombra admired her methodical nature in first making the coin the most desirable it could be.

A lucky coin, so far as Ginevra understood it, wasn't just lucky for its actual value. She held it up and turned it. One side bore a twin symbol of moon and sun, the other bore the outline of a pony's head. Angling her thumb, she carefully etched the shape of a horn onto the pony, as well as crude wings arcing up behind them. "If they venerate alicorns, however unwillingly, I will make them clutch this coin as a testament to that power over them. Now, to build the spell that binds their soul to me."

This was what Sombra wanted to see. Magic involving manipulation of souls for personal gain was the darkest he knew, which meant it would color Ginevra even further in his image. He watched her bury hooks and siphons—spells he'd never taught her but that she seemed to grasp instinctively. He waited until she was done before speaking. "Very fine work, my apprentice. Do you wish to test it?"

The spells were unlike any she'd been taught, but Ginevra had made them based on how a dementor's kiss had worked. It wouldn't completely remove a soul, but it would bind the coin—and herself—to them. "It should work on any creature other than myself. I could give it to Peter, but he's already bound to me."

"You will need to take it to town yourself. I need Peter for something important." Sombra gestured at the four glowing crucibles. "Voldemort's spell for making a horcrux required a sacrifice."

"You're going to kill him?" It was remarkable to Ginevra just how little that bothered her. She'd been inside Peter's head enough to know he'd murdered a lot of wizards and muggles alike, and had caused others to kill yet more.

Sombra looked into the dark pits Ginevra had for eyes. "Any problems with that?"

"He deserves so much worse. I've seen into his mind and heart, and both are dark and stained with blood." Ginevra felt far colder than she ever had before. Mentally, she tugged on Peter's mind to bring him into the chamber where Sombra had the metal to make horcruxes ready.

Leaving the chamber herself, Ginevra pointed behind her when she saw Peter. "Your destiny lies in there."





Ginevra was not even a quarter of the way to the pony city when she felt her link with Peter severed. It was a chilling moment only because it highlighted that she had bonded to his soul and had been feeding on it. The coin in her hand itched and hungered, as she hungered.

She still had links to both Bellatrix and Igor, though she'd delved into each of them far less than she had Peter. She knew enough from her history that Bellatrix was probably worse than Peter, but Igor seemed far less experienced with death.

It was all feelings and hunches, but she had little else to work with. As she neared the city, just as the sun literally plunged from the sky, she got another of those hunches and detoured to an arc around the city.

A wagon sat on the sand, its wheels having been removed to reveal the underside had a large ski. With the cover of darkness she moved silently toward the wagon and heard a male voice coming from within.

"Hoo'far, why in the world did you come here? Here!" Rearranging his things inside the wagon, Hoo'far stepped out into the cooling night air. "Ah, but the desert always calls my hooves. How could I possibly deny her?"

Feeling positively hollow, Ginevra floated high above Hoo'far and carefully dropped the coin beside him into the sand. She watched him twitch and turn to look for the sound. Before he could even start to look up into the sky, Ginevra rushed to get behind his wagon.

The moment the stallion touched the coin, Ginevra felt a rush of stability and safety. Her hollow insides seemed less-so, and the hooks of her magic burrowed into Hoo'far and bound him to her. She could see him staring in wonder at the coin, and knew he'd never part with it.





Sombra felt the dark magic of his apprentice when it started working. It was like a distant song of good tidings to him. Meanwhile, having used Peter to make four new horcruxes, he had choices about what to do with them physically.

The first was an easy choice—ponies loved books. Books were coveted and protected, thus the first would be a book. The actual book itself would be far less important than what it would embody, of course, and so Sombra created an empty book from shadow and sand. The pages were blank, but it wouldn't need words.

Gathering up the metallic essence from the crucible—now stained with a little blood—Sombra fashioned it into four triangles. Each of them thrummed with power and, together, held a portion of his soul.

"I returned as quickly as I could, master." Ginevra could feel the intense magic in the air radiating from the four crucibles. Of Peter's unique and slimy presence, she could detect none.

"Good. It is well you see this. I am making my first new horcrux the very peak of addiction. It will give power beyond measure. It will make everything the holder wishes come true." Turning, Sombra looked at Ginevra. In her eyes he could see that she understood what that meant. "You understand this?"

"In school they taught us about sources of power. H-How will you fuel it? What will give the power?"

"The horcrux will act like a storage crystal. Whoever finds it won't be using it constantly, nor will they likely be able to use it for long. They will unleash all the stored magic in a rush, probably destroying themselves and everypony around them, and the book will be taken away and locked safely somewhere." The most sly expression he'd felt in over a hundred years slowly spread across Sombra's face.

"That—" Ginevra hadn't felt mirth since waking up to having Sombra controlling her body. The giggle of a dementor, she could admit to herself, needed some work to not be terrifying. "That's genius. They will protect your horcruxes for you."

"Thank you, but I can't rely on that. Voldemort's thoughts covered the destruction of horcruxes, and I'd rather not put all my souls in one basket, as it were. Do you have any thoughts for the next one?"

"You want at least a few that are not obvious, but at the same time better than a normal item of the same type. They seem to have a lot of soldiers who wore armor, so why not a suit of armor? Something that is comfortable and easy to wear." Ginevra tapped at her chin. "There is a certain power in making your protection obscure."

"A good idea. A very good idea." Sombra used his magic to draw the next horcrux metal from its crucible and started to rework it into armor. Its mass and volume didn't matter, his magic could stretch it as large or small as needed. In a short amount of time he had a suit of armor similar to what he'd seen in the Crystal Empire. "Two more."

"One should be kept by you at all times. You never know if one of the alicorns will work out our plans and a way to hunt them down."

"Very sensible. Voldemort had that reptile with him." Turning toward the exit of the small caves, Sombra picked up the next crucible and began walking outside. "Beast known as Bellatrix."

Lifting her head, Bellatrix Lestrange was still trying to get used to her new form. She lacked much in the way of both magic and mental acuity, but her driving will still existed—and seemed sharper than ever. She wanted to live, to hunt muggles, and do the bidding of her masters. She looked at Sombra, taller than him even while lying down, and made a curious whining noise.

"You are a timber wolf. An eternal blight upon any forest. There are few forces in this world that can put a stop to you in any manner other than temporarily. Voldemort made the mistake of using a single reptile as his horcrux—I will avoid that error." Reaching forward with his magic, Sombra crashed through the normal magic resistance of a timber wolf and carved a path to the center of Bellatrix's being—then let the metal flow into her.

Bellatrix screamed first at the attack, but again as she felt that heat and fire burrow right into her core. She thrashed and shook, fighting to get away from the pain, only to have Sombra pull back and leave the thing inside her. It cooled slowly, still burning her wood for a time, but even that faded. She'd lost track of what anyone was saying.

The feel of new magic within her itched at first, but soon Bellatrix started to feel the way it strengthened her. To test a theory, she clamped her jaws down on her left foreleg and ripped the log away from her upper leg—only to have it quickly pull back together faster than before.

Pain brought power. Bellatrix still didn't like how hard it was to think, but now she realized she was not just more powerful, but essential to Sombra's survival.

"You understand, don't you? The power of that shard will grow within you, beast. It will grow and make you a titan among your kind. Stand at my side and I'll ensure you never need fear another." Sombra liked the speech, it was strong, and he particularly liked the way Bellatrix's eyes flashed brighter. She understood, this he knew.

"Bellatrix was a powerful witch. I—I don't know if we could, but it might be wise to give her a way to work magic again?" Ginevra watched as Bellatrix's head snapped around and stared at her. The raw, pleading expression transcended the language barrier.

"Perhaps." Turning back toward the cave, Sombra thought long and hard about the last horcrux. "That would make a good project for you, apprentice."





It was an odd relationship for Bellatrix. She wanted to hate Ginevra simply for her last name. She found her new mindset was rather keen on hating lots and lots of things, but it was hard to hate someone who worked to restore her magic.

Ginevra hurt her at times, but pain was fleeting, or so Bellatrix had discovered. Pain came and went, but she was now eternal. She could and did hate Sombra. She could taste Voldemort's death around him, but of Ginevra she just tasted cold, deathly darkness. It was like meeting a long-lost sister.

"This is going to hurt again." Ginevra readied the spell that she hoped would drive a spark of magic back into Bellatrix, but paused. "No. This won't work."

No longer bracing for the pain she'd been promised, Bellatrix turned her head and looked into Ginevra's eyes. Darkness, determination, and curiosity burned there.

"Every time I put a spark of magic into you, your body devours it. The only spell that is safe within you is the horcrux that master put in there. I don't think I—" Ginevra looked deep into Bellatrix's body and could see the dull burning magic that even now had taken root. "I could try to attach something to that. Like a graft."

Focusing her magic down to a blade edge, Ginevra paused. "This will probably hurt a lot, but I'm going to give you back your favorite spell. It's not like you can't kill effectively like this already, but I think you'll like it."

There was only one spell that Bellatrix knew of for which killing would be considered analogue. Excitement buzzed through every part of her and she rallied her mental faculties to focus on what Ginevra was doing.

For what Ginevra wanted, she had to cast the spell herself and capture it, mid-cast. The spell itself wasn't hard, but the willpower to kill was required. Juggling the magic a few times, she eventually worked out how it would graft on—the moment before that will was needed and before the target had been defined, she halted the casting of the spell.

The pain actually staggered Bellatrix. She wobbled as Ginevra split her body down the middle as if she were peeling a banana. Bellatrix flung the two halves of her head up to the sky and screamed  a howl of agony, but just as the pain seemed like it would kill her, Bellatrix felt something familiar.

Magic. Ginevra didn't graft it to the horcrux, either, she grafted it onto Bellatrix's core of power itself. Bellatrix's howl of agony turned into a pure note of joy. Many would have written her off as a mindless beast—probably even herself—but as her body healed around that new attachment, it became part of her and Bellatrix Lestrange became closer to what she'd been.

When her head finally reformed, Bellatrix looked around and spotted a scorpion venturing out onto the cooling desert sands from wherever it had crawled from. She knew where the spell was located, but getting it to activate took some focus. It cost Bellatrix a lot of awareness to discover the process of activating the spell, but when she did, a dirty green beam of light shot from her open mouth and into the scorpion.

Ginevra could see when the arachnid died. It had such a tiny soul, but when the green blast of magic hit it, that soul was ripped free and cast asunder. "You like it?"

Spinning her head to look at Ginevra, Bellatrix felt a new appreciation for her "sister". She managed to nod her head.

"Want more spells?" The answer to Ginevra's question was two timber wolf eyes that flared brighter.





It had taken two more days to cram every spell Ginevra knew how to cast into Bellatrix, but the former witch now looked far more animated and bright. Again and again Ginevra felt herself reaching out to touch Bellatrix, and Bellatrix would lean against her hand.

Bellatrix got less than she hoped for and more than she expected. The killing curse had been a welcome surprise, but the rest of Ginevra's spells were simple at best. When she heard Ginevra mention what classes she'd been in the previous year, it all made sense. That's when Bellatrix had decided something—Ginevra wasn't her sister, the girl was the daughter she'd never had.

But Ginevra wanted more. She considered Bellatrix as good as she could make her, and so she turned her attention to Igor. "And what to do with you? Bellatrix has magic, all you have are claws, wings, and anger."

Sprawling out on the warm sands, Igor lowered his head to a level Ginevra could reach. In his own mind he didn't need her help. So far as he'd experienced, he was immune to magic. It literally couldn't affect him. That, combined with his strength, made him more than content with his gifts.

Though one thing was hard for Igor—speech. Opening his mouth, he focused on his vocal cords (and avoiding breathing the strange new ice breath). "I am content. Strong."

"Can you teach me more magic?" Ginevra asked.

It was a shock to Igor to hear those words. His old life had been about teaching students magic, and when he'd become a dragon he'd thought those times were behind him. It was hard to keep his voice level and low enough it wasn't blasting when he felt such joy. "It would be—an honor."

"I have it, Ginevra. The book is complete." Sombra walked out of the shadows of the cave and toward the three in the ravine. He carried his greatest creation so far, something that should trap pony after pony in a string of destruction and mayhem. "You must take this to a bookstore, prepare it as you did the amulet so that it will not activate until sold. Sell it for however many coins you can get."

"That will be hard. Last time I had Peter to use as a body." Ginevra reached out and took the book from Sombra, feeling its weight not just in mass but in destiny.

Sombra looked between the three, noting that neither a wraith-like creature nor a timber wolf were likely to get any kind of service. A dragon, though, was at least not a complete shock. "Take your dragon. From what I remember of Equestria, they'll trust any creature at least once. Don't let him eat any of them, though—until you've sold the book."

"We'll take a few days. I want to learn more magic from Igor." Fashioning a black sun umbrella from darkness itself, Ginevra took a step out of the shade of the ravine and shuddered at how hot it was.

Surprised, Sombra looked at Igor. "You are a teacher?" When the huge beast nodded, Sombra felt new excitement boil within. "Then teach her everything she wishes to know. I would consider that a boon owed."

All three of them watched as Sombra walked back into the cave. Ginevra was surprised at how he'd reacted, but not so much that she considered being derelict in her duty. "Come, Igor, we're going to walk there. It's not far on foot."

As they walked from the ravine's embrace, Igor rifled through his mind for the correct things to teach Ginevra, though in the end he decided to ask her. "Where did you learn—the killing curse?"

Laughing (which Ginevra had to admit sounded terrifying), she shook her head and looked at Igor with a smile. "Protecting you. When that wizard tried to kill you, and I stepped in and absorbed it—I felt how to cast it. Maybe it's just dark magic I have an affinity for now."

"We can test—that. Try this—spell." When it came to actually casting a spell, however, Igor realized he was at a loss. "This will not—work. I cannot—cast magic like—this."

It was a setback Ginevra hadn't anticipated. She patted Igor's cheek affectionately and tried to come up with a solution. "It's not your fault. I created this form for you. What you need is a wand."

"A wand would—help me channel—yes."

"Which is its own problem because we don't have any wands. How hard is it to make a wand?" Ginevra thought on the topic. "Could I make you a wand?"

"It is not—easy. Some spend—their whole lives—learning to make—wands." As annoying as his deep voice was at first, Igor was getting used to the timing of his voice and let his mind sink into the pattern with ease. "Wands have—several parts. Shaft—core, and an enchant—ment to bind."

"Enchantments? Oh, charms. Professor Flitwick said I was good at charms. He's—This will be more advanced than first year charms class at Hogwarts, won't it?" For a moment Ginevra had gotten carried away with her past. She shook herself to pull back on track. "So I need to learn this charm?"

"Yes. It will—not be easy without—a demonstration. Even—I cannot cast it. The—charm is difficult—and you need apt—itude." Long words were starting to annoy Igor. Worse still was when there were too many syllables for even a single breath on its own to sustain within the part of his breathing he could make tones a human could hear.

"Then I've either got it or I'll steal you a wand."





Materials were easy enough. For the wood to make the shaft, Bellatrix offered her leg. They gathered five to work with since they grew back, but Ginevra could tell that it hurt Bellatrix every time.

Though it hurt, Bellatrix could practically taste the way forward. She knew that Igor would have a wealth of spells to teach Ginevra, and those spells could be passed to her. So she lived with the pain of a dragon ripping her leg off, again and again, because it would grow back anyway.

"We need a core—for the wand." Igor spoke the words slowly, his mind turning on what would be suitable. "I would offer—part of myself—but it is—not easy to—damage me."

"No." Ginevra had seen how hard it was to damage Igor, and she was reasonably sure that trying to remove something to make a wand would either cripple or kill him. "I will supply the core myself."

Bellatrix stood up, ignoring the after-pain of her newly regrown limb, and walked over to Ginevra. Leaning against her, ignoring the chill and memories of what dementors had done to her, Bellatrix let out a soft whine.

"Yeah. Looks like we're doing this for him so he can help us." Rubbing Bellatrix's ear took effort since Ginevra had to reach up to do it. Timber wolves, she'd learned, were far larger than Earth wolves. "Dark magic, icy and pure."

Standing back and watching, Bellatrix watched as Ginevra first used her magic to burn the limb with cold until it was a single, wrist-thick stick.

Holding the remains of Bellatrix's limb in one hand, Ginevra pressed her lips forward and kissed the end of it. The wood, being from a timber wolf, soaked up the spear of magic Ginevra pushed into it. It poured down the middle of the wood and froze the center into a crystalline mix of living wood and dark magic. When she felt like it had enough, Ginevra tried to pull back—only to find that the wood wasn't done yet.

In giving the wood magic, Ginevra hadn't noticed that it was actively drawing it from her. She couldn't pull back, and felt more and more of her power being drained into the log. Trying to get away from it, Ginevra felt herself getting weaker—

Snarling, Bellatrix dove on Ginevra and grabbed the wood in her mouth. It fizzed with power as she started to crush down with her jaws.

"Stop!" Ginevra, separated from the wand, was free of its effects. "I'm okay now. Put it down—please?"

Snarling past the wood in her mouth, Bellatrix wanted to destroy something so badly she pondered just breaking it anyway. Slowly, though, she opened her mouth and set the dark magic infused branch on the stone underneath them.

The need to belong—from both her time as a Death Eater and now as a pack animal—led her to lean down and help Ginevra rise before she just lay at Ginevra's ghostly feet.

Leaning across and pressing her lips to Bellatrix's wooden cheek, Ginevra whispered, "Thank you."

There wasn't much room left in Bellatrix Lestrange to feel love or affection, but what she had stirred and gripped to Ginevra. She tilted her head and leaned just a little against Ginevra. The chill of contact with a dementor should have sent terror running through her, but Ginevra was hers. She had to protect and guide Ginevra so that they could—all three of them—be powerful.

"What charm do I use? How do I enchant the wand now?" Ginevra asked.

Without a way to convey most of what was needed to actually cast a charm to complete the wand, Igor instead tried the holistic approach. "Think of what—a wand needs to be—and what it should be. Build a picture—in your mind—of what this wand will be—and let your magic carry—out your will. You have the power—you have the will. Employ them both."

The cadence of Igor's deep voice had Ginevra following his words and, in her own mind, she built the idea of wandness and sent her magic into the wand.

Bellatrix sensed the wand's malfunction first. Jumping to her paws and grabbing it out of Ginevra's hand, she turned so her body was between the wand and Ginevra.

The magic explosion shook the ground and caused huge chunks of Bellatrix to be scattered everywhere. Her pain threshold discovered new peaks as she poured magic into pulling her body back together and rebuilding herself. It was going to take time, though, even as powerful as she was.

When Ginevra put her hand on Bellatrix's shoulder, she could feel a magical pulling at her. It was like with the wand, but far less demanding. Steeling herself against the effect, she let her magic flow.

With half her body now a wreck of smashed up kindling, Bellatrix was in a strange not-pain as Ginevra's magic pulled her back together. Tilting her big head up, she looked at Ginevra from her one remaining eye—until the other decided to reignite with a green glow.

"Thank you." Ginevra looked at the next piece of Bellatrix's wood and contemplated it. "We need to work out what went wrong with the first one."

"I think it—needs less—magic. You over—whelmed it."

"Then we'll try again." Turning her attention from Igor to Bellatrix, Ginevra asked, "Are you feeling better?"

Nodding her head, Bellatrix slowly stood up and shook some twigs loose.





It took Ginevra over a month of practicing before she managed her first wand that didn't explode. It was an ugly thing about the size of her arm, but it held its core and practically burned with dark potential. She also scattered more coins to the nearby town to keep a more constant flow of magic into her body.

Sombra had kept himself to himself in the caves. What he'd been working on, Ginevra didn't know, but she could feel growing dark energy coming from underground.

Holding the wand out to Igor, Ginevra felt accomplishment at having learned how to create a wand. "Try it."

Igor didn't need to touch the wand to feel its power. There was a darkness so pure in its core that he shuddered just as his talon made contact with it—and on a dragon, a shudder is a major event. "It's a wand. I can feel—magic through—it." He struggled to control his voice, feeling so much joy and excitement. "It is tuned—for dark magic but—that's what you—can cast."

"So, where do we start? What would Bellatrix want to be able to cast?"

Remembering his fear of Bellatrix Lestrange, Igor was surprised he'd been able to count her as an ally now, but here they were. "Destructive spells." He looked at Bellatrix and caught her nodding. Smiling wide, he bared teeth that would give a shark something to worry about. "But no fire?" A definite shake of her head then. "Engorgio Skullus?"

As far as dark curses went, it was fairly weak, though Bellatrix knew that with enough power, it could certainly kill. She nodded enthusiastically, pleased to continue her path back to being a witch. She kept vigil over Igor and Ginevra for a week while the latter learned the spell.

When it finally came time for Ginevra to implant the spell, Bellatrix didn't feel the desire to brace herself. Pain was fleeting and seemingly ever-present now, but she didn't need to fear the kiss of a dementor or death. Even as Ginevra ripped her open, Bellatrix smiled—life was good.

Watching as Bellatrix reassembled herself after the spell integration, Igor let out a puff of icy air from his nostrils. "You are getting—used to that?"

Ginevra was about to answer, but Bellatrix knew who the question was for. She let out a soft grumble that sounded like wood rustling together and nodded. It didn't register fully as pain now, though it still had a feeling of wrongness when she was in pieces.

"We adapt and—grow stronger."

Igor's words caused Bellatrix a shock of excitement. Each spell she had made her stronger and more formidable. To what end, she no longer cared, she just wanted to break a lot of things. Looking at the dragon before her, Bellatrix saw in him an ally to bring glorious levels of destruction. The third of their triumvirate of power was Ginevra. She looked at the witch-trapped-as-a-dementor and bared her own teeth in a savage grin.

Reaching a ghostly hand out, Ginevra reached inside Bellatrix's mouth and grasped her jaw by her wooden teeth. It was an old motion she'd seen her father use with hounds before, and it came so naturally. It was trust and understanding rolled into one. "I want to find a way to attach to other souls. Much as I—I believe in Sombra's vision, he's—"

"I'm what, my apprentice?" Sombra strode out of the shadows he'd wrapped himself in and across to where Ginevra, Bellatrix, and Igor were gathered. "Oh, don't try to pretend otherwise. You want to cut your own swathe of freedom through to the alicorns. I understand how power drives you—it drives me too. For now, though, you need me, but I have errands to run. Keep learning more dark magic, keep growing stronger. I can taste a war coming—a fight between freedom and cloying control. Make sure you're ready for it."

Ginevra was about to ask what war, but Sombra just dissolved into smoke and vanished. She stared at the spot where he'd been and focused down on the part of his soul that resided within her. He was still alive—she could feel him—but he was now far away.

"He has given us—leave to experiment—on what you can and—can't do." Igor looked from Ginevra to Bellatrix. "Let's go—test some—spells."