Chapter 1: Back Into the Fray

“Are you gonna eat that?” Lyra looked expectantly at the cake that was still on Bon Bon’s plate.

The spell was broken. With glistening eyes, Bon Bon lifted a hoof to pull the plate a bit closer to her side of the table. “Honestly, Lyra . . .”

“Sorry. But it’s just been sitting there, and . . . “

“Just be thankful that I’m allowing cake for breakfast, just this once,” Bon Bon countered. “We should be setting a better example for our son.”

The confectioner had a long last found contentment. Now that her soulmate and their child were seated at the breakfast table with her, she finally felt that her life was complete. Somehow, she could not bring herself to look at them, not yet.

“She’s right,” the pegasus colt sitting at the table noted. “You’ve been staring at your slice for five minutes now.”

A smile came to Bon Bon's lips as she turned her gaze to her son. His royal blue coat was complemented nicely by his messy black mane and tail. The smile started to fade when she noted that his stature was more typical of somepony two years his junior.

“I’m sorry, Harry Potter.” Bon Bon held up a forehoof when the colt started to protest. "I know you only want me to use half of your name, like a human would, but you'll have to give me time." She sighed. "I'm just not ready for this. It's happening way too soon."

“Bon Bon.” Lyra gave her partner an empathetic smile. “Winter break can’t last forever. Harry needs to go back to school. He’ll be back for another break not too long after Winter Wrap-Up.”

“We just got him.” Bon Bon whispered,” I’m not ready to let him go.”

“I know.” Lyra’s voice lacked the joy it normally held. “I so want to hug him close and tell him he can’t leave.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry’s head dipped as his ears laid back on his skull. “I didn’t mean to hurt you two.”

“It’s not your fault.” Bon Bon sniffed. “Don’t think for one second that it is.”

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. This was a whole new experience for him. Half a year ago, he would never have dreamed that he didn’t want to leave his home to go to Hogwarts. Then again, a half year ago, where he lay his head at night was his relatives’ house, the Dursleys'.

That place had never been his home. Never was he welcome there. They had taken every opportunity to let him know that he was an uninvited nuisance, the only thing keeping them from enjoying normal lives. He had been treated worse than the lowest scullery maid. He had been relegated to a cramped closet under the stairs. The only respite from their torment had been those rare days when he had been ignored.

Half a year had made all the difference in his world. Now, he had a normal room with what he assumed was a comfortable bed. He had yet to spend a night there; instead, he had been nestled between his two new mothers. Despite being on an alien planet in a body not his own, he had finally found a home.

“Don’t worry about us,” Lyra said. “We’ll manage. Your job is to enjoy your time with your friends and get good grades.”

“Hermione, Parvati, and Sweetie wouldn’t let me get bad grades,” Harry said. “Ron gets mad because they don’t let him play as much wizard’s chess as he would like. You should have seen the fit he threw when Sweetie had Philomena take his set back to the Burrow until he finished his homework.”

“We’ll trust them to keep you in line then,” Bon Bon said.

“Actually,” Harry said, “it’s Apple Bloom who keeps us in line. She ended up putting Ron in a headlock.”

After a decade-long absence, the lord of stately Black Manor had returned. His new life was as far removed from his stint in Azkaban as a flobberworm was from a nundu. The predominant new constant in his life was the woman cuddled in his arms. The one drooling on his shoulder from behind was a new addition to his nascent herd. The smells of yeast and sweets reminded him there was a missing member, one whose baking skills put the house elf to shame. How Pinkie Pie had managed to extricate herself without waking anyone was far beyond anything that Sirius could understand.

To be honest, half of the things that Pinkie did were beyond him. Sirius swore he'd eat the sorting hat if that woman didn't know how to apparate on an instinctual level. Twilight had claimed she could write a book on Pinkie's antics. Sirius knew that claim was a gross understatement.

In all ways that mattered, the pink party pony was now his wife. Any thoughts that he may have had of staying a confirmed bachelor after his release had been quickly crushed. They had not only been crushed, but also muddled, minced, pureed, and atomized. He was now married thrice over. To be more accurate, he was bonded in heart and soul in ways that not even the Reaper could rend asunder.

Matrimony was not the only surprise that had greeted him outside the prison walls. The unconscionable cruelty of wizarding law had denied the victims of Azkaban any outside contact; he had believed that he had been abandoned to his fate. Now, he found that his family had not only survived but also grown.

When he had left, of those that he would have claimed kinship, there had been only his uncle Alphard, his cousin Andromeda, and her family. Unfortunately, his uncle hadn’t survived Sirius’ absence. However, his heretofore estranged cousin Narcissa had been welcomed back into the fold with her betrothed, Moony. Although he had been denied Harry's custody, he knew the boy was in good hooves. Then, there were the other children, a complete surprise. Never would he have imagined taking in the spawn of a Deatheater. Luckily, his own experience of the elder Potters accepting him into their home and hearts was a good template. He refused to visit the sins of the father on Draco.

The biggest surprise was his adoptive son. Sirius found Spike to be very much the little boy, although he still was cautious with the family jewels around the hatchling. The one who posed the greatest quandary, however, was the lost cousin recuperating in St. Mungo's; it remained to be seen whether she was an innocent lamb or a black sheep. More properly, for his family, an outcast would be a white sheep. That metaphor was a serious mismatch for the Black family.

Despite his decade of torment, Sirius found that life could hardly have dealt him a better hand. The only thing he needed to make his life complete was a bit of rat pâté, with a side of fava beans.

The conversation at the breakfast table was decidedly one-sided as a very human Scootaloo nursed a bowl of porridge. The way Spike was carrying on, one would think he was returning to Hogwarts instead of Draco and Scootaloo. The girl did her best to channel her favorite Power Pony, but despite how much she yearned, heat vision was beyond her grasp. For the moment, Spike was spared the indignity of becoming a crispy critter.

Then again, he was a dragon; frost breath was probably the way to go.

“The new rules for naval combat will be out next month,” Spike told Draco. They had spent their spare time during the holiday engrossed in a role-playing game, and it tended to dominate all of their conversations. “I’ll get you a copy and have an owl deliver it.”

“You are lucky; you don’t have school work eating into your time,” Draco grumbled, poking at his black pudding. “I’m not going to be able to read the new rules until the next break rolls around.”

“Eh.” Spike shrugged. “I’ve got to do something. Ever since Twilight stopped her regular lessons with the princess, I’ve had more free time than I know what to do with. Being her number one assistant isn’t exactly overwhelming anymore.” He gave a half-hearted sigh. “With Kreacher and Pinkie doing all of the cooking . . . on top of all of the things Owlowiscious does . . .”

“More time for you to do what you want,” Draco said enviously, oblivious to Spike's feelings.

“Yeah,” Spike agreed gloomily. “More me time. It's not like Twilight has much for me to do these days.”

Scootaloo blinked at the small dragon and came to a decision. “Come to school with us.”

Spike blinked back at her in surprise. “Scootaloo, I couldn’t do that. Twilight needs me.”

Pausing with another spoonful halfway to her mouth, Scootaloo said, “You just said she’s got more help now. Besides, you’ll be a better assistant when you come back.”

“I . . .” Spike said, “I can’t just abandon her. Besides, it’s too late to enroll.”

“We just have to ask Discord,” Scootaloo said around a mouthful. “He can send an owl back in time.”

“I could use your help training Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.” Draco perked up and immediately got on the bandwagon.

“Dream on,” Scootaloo snorted.

“At the very least, he could run interference,” Draco insisted.

“I am not getting involved with that crazy filly,” Spike returned.

“You’d be a big help for your cousin,” Draco countered.

“I have my sights set elsewhere,” Spike said with finality.

“Rarity,” Scootaloo coughed.

“She’s too old for you.” Draco whined, “I need help, now. Greg and Vincent are useless.”

“I am not getting involved with that filly,” Spike reiterated. “It doesn’t take a genius to know who's wearing the bridle and who is holding the crop in that herd.”

“But . . .” Draco objected.

“Give it up.” Scootaloo said. “They have you blindered and whipped, and you know it.”

Spike openly chuckled at the exchange.

“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you.” Scootaloo swallowed a mouthful. “You’re just as bad as he is.”

“That’s not true . . .” Spike started as suddenly another individual appeared in the room.

“Here we go,” Discord said placing a shrunken trunk on the table in front of Spike. “Your school supplies are all enclosed.” He snapped his claw and a copper ring appeared. “You will be needing this as well. I think that covers everything.”

The three children stared at the draconequus in shock.

“What?” Discord returned their stares.

“How?” Draco started.

Discord pulled back his nonexistent sleeve to check the oversized watch that appeared on his wrist. “Am I early?”

The children continued to stare.

“What can I say for myself?” Discord shook his wrist before placing his ear next to his timepiece to check its integrity. “Time can be so wibbly wobbly.”

“Ah,” Scootaloo stated smartly.

“What’s ten minutes one way or the other?” Discord tossed the wristwatch into his mouth to chew on it thoughtfully. “Should I come back after you have made your decision?”

Spike sighed as he looked at Draco. “I’m still not helping you with Diamond Tiara.”

The bedlam that was the first day of school after the holidays was nothing new to Mrs. Barker. She had held her post for over three decades, and it was still both her honor and her pleasure to be the first person outside of their homes from whom her students would receive guidance on a regular basis. With justifiable pride, she could honestly say that she remembered each and every student whose life she had touched. Given the length of her tenure, some would ask her whether she had seen everything. After all, she was now teaching some of the children of her former students.

Befitting her station, she would honestly answer no. It was rare, but she would occasionally come across something original. She had seen fads come and go and come again. She had seen long-forgotten ideas dredged up and touted as new. However, the revelation of magic, real magic, was unquestionably a new experience.

Just this morning, she had received tacit confirmation that at least two of her former students were capable of using magic. It was not uncommon for the older children to arrive on a bicycle borrowed from a sibling. However, this morning, one of her former students flew in on a broomstick, claiming she had borrowed the conveyance from her older brother.

Going under the assumption that the talent was hereditary, Mrs. Barker now found herself in an uncomfortable position. The girl's younger sister was one of her current students. The little one's bright and outgoing personality made her impossible to dislike. Mrs. Barker struggled to find a way to see if her student had the talent without revealing it to the rest of the class. There was no way to tell if the girl would be uncomfortable with the situation.

Fate intervened with the subtlety of a runaway train.

“Did your big sister fly to school?” the Dixon boy demanded of the Thomas girl as the students were settling in.

“Yup.” Rosie frowned. “Eva left without me. Grandmum had to drive me, instead. Dean’s going to throw a fit over his broom when he finds out it’s missing from his trunk.”

“You would’ve fallen off,” the Addams boy asserted maliciously.

“Nuh uh.” Rosie scowled. “Brooms have spells to keep you on them. 'Sides, I can fly on my own.”

Mrs. Barker struggled to decide what to do about the revelation of a third magical child.

“You can’t fly,” the Dixon boy asserted. “You’re fibbing.”

“Can too!” Rosie said.

“Cannot!”

“Can too!”

“Cannot!”

“Can too!”

Sharply, Mrs. Barker said, "Tyler! Rosie!"

The two children looked at her guiltily and ceased their bickering. Given her success with Rosie's older siblings, Mrs. Barker decided that the best course of action would be to treat the girl as she would any other student.

“Cannot.” The Dixon boy defiantly stuck out his tongue.

The teacher was about to admonish him when Rosie replied, “Can too! See!” With those words, the young girl shrank and transformed into a little horse, with wings.

Rosie flapped her wings lazily as she hovered a bit below the ceiling. "I can fly. I can fly! I CAN FLY!"

The Addams boy looked at the adorable airborne amazement and uttered the thought passing through every student's mind. "Cool!"

Forcibly quashing her astonishment, Mrs. Barker commanded, "Rosie, change back . . ."

In a surprising display of parkour, Grace, the smallest girl in the class leapt onto her desk, sprang to the counter, jumped to the side of a cabinet and pushed off. She screamed, "Mine!" as she performed an impressive midair tackle.

Platform 9 ¾ was bustling with activity. Wizards and witches were saying goodbye to their children after what many would remember as the most eventful winter break ever. There just weren’t any words that adequately described the complete collapse of their shield of secrecy.

In one of the fireplaces situated around the area, the merry flames shifted to green before a young man strode confidently from them. With an absentminded flick of his wand, he removed all traces of ash from his body. He didn’t get four steps before the next traveler was ejected from the flames in a less elegant manner. The figure of a woman came to a skidding halt at the young man’s feet.

“Are you all right, Berry?” Barnaby asked, leaning down to help the woman to her feet.

“You mean besides leaving my dignity on the other side of those flames?” Berry Punch asked. She had scarcely stood up when the next traveler appeared. This one was a little girl who managed to retain her upright position even though she stumbled forward into her mother.

“How’d you like your first floo trip, Berryshine?” Barnaby asked her as she trembled.

Berryshine looked up and shook her head with a frown.

Barnaby chuckled as the flames went green again, this time ejecting Bon Bon. “You’ll get used to it,” Barnaby said as he tugged the two females out of the landing zone.

Berryshine shook her head a second time.

The flames continued to spit out people, many of whom had notably colorful hair.

After everyone had arrived, Lyra addressed Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she said tearfully.

Harry shifted nervously from foot to foot. “I’ll be back for Easter,” he said meekly, obviously not enthusiastic over leaving his new mothers behind.

“We know.” Bon Bon did her best to sound cheerful. “Just remember you promised to write us at least once a week.”

“I'll remember,” Harry promised just before he was tackle hugged by a low flying bushy-haired missile.

“There you are!” Hermione declared before Harry managed to regain his bearings. “I’ve been waiting here with my parents for almost an hour. We would have been here sooner if not for the crowd outside watching people go through the barrier.”

“Hermione, let 'im breathe,” Apple Bloom said, coming up behind the other girl. “’Sides, y'all just saw him two days ago.”

“Apple Bloom!” Hermione changed her hug target.

“How does she not have a glomping cutie mark?” Scootaloo asked. “Oooomph! I’m happy to see you too Hermione.”

“Scootaloo!”

The train would be leaving soon.

She could not shake the feeling of dread in spite of herself. She had already lived through the pain once; a family member had boarded that accursed conveyance, never to be seen by muggle eyes again. Now, she stood ready to send off her own flesh and blood.

There was so much potential for disaster. There was TOO MUCH potential for disaster. She had already suffered through it once. She lost her sister and had been cursed to hate her nephew. Now, she stood ready to send off her own flesh and blood.

This time, it would be different. This time, she was no longer blind to the secret world. This time, she had friends who knew of her plight. This time, she would not be defenseless.

She had been given a gift that was precious beyond measure. It had always been her dream to enter the secret world. It had always been beyond her grasp -- until now. What she had coveted was second nature to her benefactor. What she had thought was impossible, a purple unicorn had seen as routine as fitting glasses.

Now, she was part of the world that had stolen her sister. More importantly, now her son was also part of that magical world. A part of her still called it freakish. That part of her was duly ignored. Her childhood dream was there for the taking, and take it she would. She would honor the memory of her sister. She would do her family proud -- all of her family, despite what she had been doing for years.

She would spend her evenings with the Grangers and their tutor. Enrollment in a recognized magic school was required for an adult to own a wand. Fortunately, the accreditation process allowed for a one-instructor school.

She would no longer be the woman she had been forced to become. She would no longer be the exaggerated caricature of an evil stepmother. She would always bear the shame of what she had been forced to do. She had lost so much to that woman . . . so much time . . . so much love. There were so many wrongs that she had to right.

She would gladly punch the woman she had been in the nose, despite knowing she would probably break her hand in the process. She would gladly throw all her strength to avenge herself on her tormentor, despite knowing that the battle was lost before it had begun. So much had changed in so little time, and it was just the beginning.

She struggled not to break under the burden she now bore. She was now a witch. Her sister had been a witch. Her son, through the intercession of a purple unicorn, was now a wizard.

Magic had stolen much from her family. The time had come to reclaim what was rightfully theirs -- with interest.

She watched as her husband set their son's trunk on a trolly. The time had come. The die had been cast.

“Come along Dudley,” she said, sorrow and joy warring for her voice. “You have a train to catch.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked the pink filly with a hedgehog cutie mark as she sat on the comfortable couch.

“Probably not,” said the athletic pegasus colt, ruffling his wings. As he shifted to move a little further from the filly, he continued. “But I’m tired of letting the Crusaders have all of the fun. I’m done doing normal.”

“We are so going to get grounded,” whined the filly.

“It’ll be worth it,” said a brown colt, tapping the propeller on his beanie as he sat on another chair. “You didn’t see the arcade the Crusaders took me to.”

“Have I mentioned how pathetic it is that you agreed to come along, just for some video games,” said the first colt.

“Hey!” the second colt objected. “I didn’t come just for the video games. This is going to be a real-life adventure.”

“Keep it down,” said the filly. “We don’t want Apple Bloom opening her trunk until we get there. All the time we spent gem hunting will have been wasted if we get caught before we get there.”

“Please be quiet,” begged a lavender unicorn filly who anxiously paced across the room. “My human will be there; I can’t let this opportunity pass me by.”

“Okay. okay,” said the first colt. “Excuse me for getting excited. It’s not like we’re sneaking off to go to school in another dimension.”

“Eh,” said the second colt. “The Crusaders did it, how hard can it be?”

There was much more to the security system than the spikes atop the wrought iron. The gates swung open at his presence. He entered, crossing the ward line. The magic of the castle reached out and permeated his very being. Ancient magics checked for dangers new and old. Probes thought to be infallible checked for deceit. Echoes of what had been resonated with what was present. Ultimately, the castle recognized its master. Without fanfare, the magics yielded and passed control back to him.

He was home.

The crisp January weather was a welcomed change from the environs of his former accommodations. Every day above ground was a good one. As he made his way to the portcullis, he could not help but put a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step. He had no doubt there would be challenges ahead. He had no doubt he would overcome them; he always did, after all.

The magic of the grounds whispered to him, telling a tale easy to interpret. It told of what had happened and what was going on. He put on a winning smile for the crowd he knew was waiting on the other side of the door. With practiced nonchalance, he entered.

When he finally arrived at the entrance hall, an elderly witch approached, followed by the rest of the faculty.

"Albus?" said Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva," replied Dumbledore with a welcoming smile. "It is good to see you. I see you have brought everyone. Good morning, all.”

She openly frowned at the salutation. “Albus, the last we heard, you were carted off to parts unknown. I think we deserve more than a casual greeting. What happened?”

“Ah,” Dumbledore said, striding toward the Great Hall. “Therein lies a story, one best told over a plate of kippers, unless I miss my guess. My protein intake has been somewhat restricted of late.”

Frustration marred McGonagall’s face as she and the rest of the professors trailed after the elderly headmaster.

“I see that our teaching staff has doubled,” Dumbledore said conversationally as they progressed.

“It was unavoidable,” Minerva grumbled through gritted teeth. “We will be receiving an influx of students later today.”

“Change has reared its ugly head.” Dumbledore sighed. “It often does with annoying regularity.”

“I am surprised you haven’t planned for it,” Professor Snape said with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Ah, Severus my boy,” Dumbledore said without turning to address the man. “It has come to my attention that you have had a change of status since the last time we spoke. I understand that congratulations are in order.”

“Yes, thank you,” Severus said. “The break has been more eventful than I had anticipated.”

“You have been encouraged to socialize with Sirius Black, or so I hear.” Dumbledore mused, “I trust that wasn’t too stressful.”

“We have reached an accord.” Only an incredibly brave individual would have told Snape that his reply was sullen.

“Good. Good,” Dumbledore said. “It was past time you let go of that particular hatred.”

“I do not wish to discuss my personal life at this time,” Severus returned, “or ever.”

“Of course not,” Dumbledore said. “My boy, you have always been one for reclusiveness. Still, I wish you the best in your personal relations.”

“Albus!” Minerva blurted. “Where have you been? The board is breathing down my neck waiting for an answer to their demand!”

Dumbledore stopped before speaking with a regret-filled voice. “Ah yes. That was a hard decision, one I can’t say I appreciate, though I understand the underlying concerns.” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “In the end, there can be only one answer; my place is here. As much as it pains me to say it; perhaps it is time to retire the old guard and let the new have its head where politics are concerned. There is little I could accomplish on that front. Fortunately, I still have some wisdom to impart on the hearts and minds of the next generation."

“Where have you been?” Minerva repeated.

Dumbledore sighed. “I was forced to take an unscheduled vacation.” The gathered professors shuffled at those words. “I had some long conversations with an individual who was concerned with my modus operandi. Yes, I do believe that is what they call it nowadays. Let’s just say that we also reached an accord”

“What kind of accord?”

“Ah, Miss Berrytwist,” Dumbledore said. “I see you have decided to stay in your equine form. I must say I do like your coloring. It does leave me wondering how you’d look with a black stripe running through your tail and mane. It would emphasize the whole dark and brooding aura you project.”

“I’m going to have to agree with Albus on that one,” Filius piped up, brandishing his wand. “Shall we find out?”

“Let’s not,” Berrytwist snarled.

“I think it would look good on you,” Septima opinioned.

“I think she looks just fine how she is,” Marcy said as she stepped between her roommate and the charms professor.

“I agree,” Goodman added.

“Such loyalty,” Dumbledore said. “Is this a new herd I see forming?”

Three people answered simultaneously.

“No,” said Berrytwist.

“Yes,” said Marcy

“Maybe,” said Goodman.

They shared a surprised glance with each other.

“Maybe?” said Berrytwist.

“No?” said Marcy.

“Yes?” said Goodman.

Septima said, "I'm sure they'll have everything sorted out long before the term is over."

"Are you willing to put your knuts where your mouth is?" asked Bathsheda.

Minerva could swear that Dumbledore flinched at that question.

Gesturing, Filius said, "I do believe Septima is missing something there."

Minerva could also swear that Dumbledore flinched at that assertion.

"Why is everyone looking at me like that?" asked Bathsheda. "Sybil has taken all our galleons."

Minerva could swear the Dumbledore had sighed in relief.

“Ah, young love.” Dumbledore smiled. “It’s always so refreshing.”

“You’re getting off topic,” Minerva said. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you disappeared only to reappear after all of the hard work has been completed.”

“I have faith that you all managed smartly without my interference,” Dumbledore said, continuing toward his plate of kippers. “Just as I have faith that we will all manage the new trials that we are surely destined to face in the near future.”

“Is he always so enigmatic?” asked the new muggle studies professor.

“Sadly, yes,” said Professor Snape.

“So, this is par for the course then?” concluded the muggle studies professor.

“What a strange phrase,” Septima said. “But I can infer that the answer is ‘yes’.”

“Yes, that is a peculiar phrasing,” Filius stated. “Where does it originate?”

“It refers to a relaxing game popular among us non-magicals,” replied the muggle studies professor. Smiling wistfully, he said, "There's nothing quite like breaking two paycheck's worth of equipment and throwing it in the lake."

“Are we just going to continue to ignore the fact that Albus just came waltzing back, smiling as if nothing has happened, after being kidnapped by individuals unknown?” Severus commented.

“You mean like we did for you?” Berrytwist asked.

“That is a valid point,” Filius added.

“Does that mean they took him for breeding purposes as well?” Goodman asked.

More than one professor shuddered at the thought.

“I’m afraid these old bones are past their prime.” Dumbledore chuckled. “Shall we hurry? I can hear something fishy desperately calling my name.”

Minerva scowled as she followed the headmaster to his waiting meal. He was obviously hiding something. She would find out what that was, no matter what it took.

Chapter 2: Realizations Set In

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This room in St. Mungo's was a typical standard room. It had an adjustable bed, a small bedside table, and a high-backed visitor's chair. The walls were a sterile white, without even a hint of decoration. In short, it was very much the same as its brethren; it was a place most people would go out of their way to avoid.

What made the room noteworthy was its occupant. Her reputation drew rumors like flies to honey. Her presence drew stares like an automobile accident. Her mind drew a disturbing conclusion; she would have had more visitors if she were still in Azkaban.

Her family had visited, but she could swear they stayed only as long as they were obligated. One dear sister had insisted that she had her hands full minding children. She had claimed she would spend more time once the train had departed for Hogwarts. The woman knew better than to believe such a transparent lie.

The other dear sister apparently worked at the hospital. That sister would visit sporadically, sharing a sentence or two before dashing off. It was clear something was weighing on her mind. It didn't take clairvoyance to deduce what that was.

Her cousin had reluctantly graced her with a single visit. He was now lord of the house of her birth. He had borne news of the annulment of her marriage. He had borne news of her reinstatement into House Black. He had obviously not wanted to stay a second longer than necessary before leaving with his childhood friend. Mercifully, that meeting had been brief. She had no illusions as to what awaited her; he had borne news that when she returned, she would find her room exactly as she had left it. No doubt he knew that the room was her last message to her dear father.

Although her time in Azkaban had also been a lonely existence, the hospital exuded an aura of tranquility that promoted introspection. For the first time in many years, she could now reflect on her childhood and the indelible impression her father had left during her formative years. He had taught her sisters and her the same lesson: they were less than worthless. They had committed the unforgivable crime of being female. Without a son to carry on the family name, they were just burdens to be endured until they could be fobbed off on unsuspecting fools.

As night turns to day, so, too, did her thoughts shift from her father to her mother. It was she who had made childhood bearable. It was she who had provided them with the love that her father had denied. It was she who taught them what was needed to comport oneself as a high-born lady. It was she who had nurtured them, providing the affection and knowledge they would need to be successful with their lives.

The most important lesson was the keystone of her plots and schemes. Men were fundamentally worthless. They were selfish, self-absorbed, uncaring creatures with little, if any, utility beyond their basic biological function. They were meant to be used and discarded.

As a true Slytherin, she had multiple schemes in motion, each triggered by an impediment to her ultimate goal. Each was set to move her closer to her inevitable conclusion. One plan that had borne fruit had earned her a hefty upgrade in both accommodations and diet.

She smiled ruefully as she contemplated the upgrade. Instead of dwelling with the damned, she now lay among the sick and dying. Instead of what barely qualified as edible, she now had hospital food. Admittedly, she'd always have more room for that fruity gelatin. The rest of the fare, however, she'd have rejected if things had been normal.

Biding her time had been fruitful in other ways. She knew that patience was her friend. There had been nights when she had contemplated subtly directing the fools toward the family vault. Such thoughts were unworthy of a Slytherin. Such a move would surely sink her stratagem.

As she lay in her bed, she could now contemplate the only man she had found worthy of her time. He was perfect in mind, body, and spirit. In her mind's eye, she could see the rugged handsomeness of his powerful body. Even now, she could practically feel his virility reaching out across the miles. He would rule the wizarding world as it should be led.

It turned out that the timing was perfect; she was free exactly when she needed to be.

With a forlorn glitter in her eyes, she turned her gaze to the south and issued a small pout.

Almost lovingly, she stroked her fingers along the bare flesh of her arm.

A smile crept over her face. If anyone had been present, that expression would have given them nightmares for the rest of their days.

As he stole a glance at the large, perforated paddle that hung above the desk in the tidy office, he could not help but think how on some days he hated coming to school. He could swear most of the teachers hated him. He could swear all the students hated him. Still, he had to come in every school day. After all, he was the headmaster.

He already knew it was going to be one of those days. It wasn't even lunch time, and things had already gone off the rails. Getting a direct call from the Secretary of State for Education had been a complete shock. Protocol dictated that he should have been given time to prepare for a meeting with the boss of bosses. There was something fundamentally wrong about such a high official chatting with a common primary school headmaster as if they were nearly peers.

The call had come just in time to introduce the observer for the interview. The secretary had assured him that this was simply a precautionary measure. The fact that the observer was the country's leading expert in child psychology was supposed to be of no importance.

The headmaster sighed as he waited patiently. His guest was seated in the chair against the wall to his left. Despite the man's causal clothing, he exuded an air of importance. The headmaster could not recall the last time he had been so stressed over a meeting with one of his students. The wait was already ratcheting up the tension to unbearable levels. Still, he had to project a calm demeanor. It simply would not do for the headmaster to be more nervous than the student.

He mustered his poise when Mrs. Yorkshire ushered the girl in question into his office. With a smile he did not feel in his chest, he dismissed the teacher and gestured for the student to enter and take the seat in front of his desk.

“Good morning, Miss Thomas,” the headmaster said encouragingly. “Please be at ease; you are not in any kind of trouble.”

As he expected, the headmaster could practically see the tension in the room tighten like a garrote.

“Y-you wanted to see m-me, Mr. Smith?” the girl stammered out as she took the proffered seat. She sent the visitor sitting next to the wall a curious look.

“Yes, Miss Thomas.” The headmaster nodded. “We need to discuss your choice of transportation this morning. There have been several concerns raised.”

“It’s not against the rules,” Eva Thomas said defensively.

Inwardly, Mr. Smith relaxed a little; the girl hadn’t completely lost her spirit.

“That is not what is at issue here,” the headmaster said. “Rather it is a question of your safety. I am well aware that broom riding is a beginner’s class at the school your brother attends. This leads me to contemplate the wisdom of allowing you to continue to fly one to school.”

“Training brooms have safety spells on them,” the girl explained. “People ride them all the time before going to Hogwarts.”

“Oh?” The headmaster arched an eyebrow. “What kind of safety spells does the broom you rode have?”

“Dean says it has a plus ten percent rating for avoiding rampaging pixies,” Eva returned.

“Oh?” The headmaster raised an eyebrow. “Is that a thing?”

“Dean says it’s due to how fast it can go.” Eva nodded proudly.

“I’m not sure that counts as a safety feature,” the headmaster noted.

‘You wouldn’t be saying that if you were being chased by a horde of rampaging pixies,” the girl returned.

“I’m afraid you are not helping your case,” Mr. Smith replied. “The fact remains that your safety remains in doubt. There is more potential for injury here than, say, crashing a bicycle. This is a low-flying aircraft.”

“You’re not going to allow me to ride my broom to school anymore,” Miss Thomas said with an accusatory pout. The tightness in her voice clearly showed the strain of trying to sound calm.

“Not without first consulting your parents as well as some experts from the magical society,” The headmaster stated firmly. “No doubt the Civil Aviation Authority will want a say. The broom shall be staying in my office until one of your parents comes to collect it. This is not punishment; this is merely a precaution. I hope it will prove to be unnecessary, but I do not see it that way right now.”

Eva pouted at him, her disappointment clear on her expression, but she held her tongue.

The headmaster glanced down at the list of questions his visitor had requested that he ask. “So, Miss Thomas, are you a pony? Be subtle,” he read.

Miss Thomas gaped at him, and the headmaster noted that his visitor looked like he was valiantly refraining from performing a facepalm. Glancing down again, he saw that the question was followed by ‘Be subtle’ in parentheses. Well, he hadn’t checked that box, now had he.

“N-not at the moment, I’m not,” Miss Thomas finally managed to rasp out in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "Excuse me. I'm just a little hoarse."

“Mmm hmm.” The headmaster nodded. “I should inform you that your younger sister transformed in her classroom earlier this morning.”

“She didn’t,” the girl deadpanned.

“She did,” the headmaster said. “Apparently, she can support a classmate’s weight, airborne, for a good fifteen seconds.”

“Mum told her not to do that.”

“No harm done,” the headmaster said. “We want to make it completely clear that none of our equine friends need worry over attending our schools. All are welcome and will be treated like any other student, barring any necessary and reasonable accommodations, which will be reviewed.”

“Equine?”

“Having horse-like forms or features,” the headmaster answered.

“Oh.”

On the return from the winter holiday, the atmosphere on the Hogwarts Express was supposed to be one of gloom and resignation. The inundation of new students added an electric atmosphere that was normally associated with the beginning of the school year. If there was one thing that Faye's experience as prefect had taught her, it was that change often meant trouble. She was determined to check every compartment, just to head it off before it got out of hand.

She knocked politely before entering the first compartment on the current car.

A green-haired boy said, "Hello. How may I help you?" Fay raised an eyebrow; this was clearly the first pony boy whom she had seen."

Fay quickly took note of the compartment's occupants as she replied. "I'm just doing a routine inspection. With all the new students, I wanted to be sure everyone was settling in." Turning to the girl with the lilac hair, she said, "How was your break, Miss Tiara?"

“Very profitable,” the young Slytherin replied. “If not for the cake, I’d say it was excellent.”

“Cake?” Fay’s head tilted in confusion.

“Yes.” The last Malfoy shuddered as he answered for his betrothed. “Cupcakes and teeth don’t mix well.”

“What a curious statement,” Fay said.

“You wouldn’t think so if you had been there,” Silver Spoon said with a shiver.

“Right then,” Fay answered. “I can see that there isn’t any activity I should be concerned about going on in here. I’ll just be on my way.”

“Goodbye,” said the children as the door slid shut. Faye was still contemplating the strange conversation when she knocked on the next compartment's door.

“C'mon in,” said the de facto leader of the first year Gryffindors.

“Ah,” Fay said, sliding the door open and doing a quick head count. “I see you all managed to squeeze in here.”

“There’s plenty of room,” Potter said, lifting his head from where it had been lying on Patil’s barrel.

“The ceiling certainly isn’t crowded,” said Bates, who was snuggled against the Minister’s daughter.

“Fay!” cried out the sole adult in the chamber. “Fay! Fay!”

“Hello Magah,” Fay acknowledged. “I’m happy to see you too.”

“Fay! Fay!”

“Starting to regret her learning your name, aren’t you?” Finnigan said without bothering to open his eyes.

“I’ll manage,” Fay said. “That’s an awful lot of puffskein you have there,” she noted.

“They’re gifts from the townsponies,” said Scootaloo, presenting one in her upturned hoof. “Here try holding one close to your face.”

“Do I look like I was born yesterday?” Fay asked. “I prefer my nostrils unviolated, if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself.” Scootaloo shrugged.

Fay chuckled. “Try to stay out of trouble,” she said, sliding the door shut. She started to continue to the next compartment before thinking better of it. She pulled a handkerchief out of her robe pocket and transfigured it into a plaque which she attached to the door with a sticking charm.

Warning!

Toxic levels of cuteness within

Enter at your own risk

With a smile, she then pressed on with her inspections.

The tension in the laboratory was palpable. When the idea for the project was conceived, the woman in the lab coat had rationalized that there would be time to finish later. It was now later. She deeply regretted not having finished earlier.

If she were being completely honest with herself, she would admit that she had made the right decision. Her old self would have spent the past few weeks sequestered until the project was finished. Her current self had realized there were more important things. Family was at the top of the list; the break had been a time to make memories with them. Her heart and her head simply could not focus on anything else at the time.

She cursed the irony that thoughts of family were now driving her to finish yesterday, if not sooner. With laser-like focus, she had thrown herself into her work. While she knew that the apparatus would likely not be needed for months, she also knew it was a crucial defense for her son and his friends. She would not leave them vulnerable.

"Twilight? Are you all right?"

She started slightly at the voice. When had her husband come in? She could have sworn she was alone. "Huh? What?"

"Are you all right?" Sirius repeated. "You've been staring off at nothing since I got here."

Twilight sighed as she set down the thaumatic heterodyne transmitter she had been holding. "I'm sorry, Sirius. It's just that I miss Spike so much. Ever since I was a filly, he's always been there with me. I still can't accept that he's left for school."

“Empty nest syndrome is bad enough when you're prepared for it,” Nissy said.

Twilight whipped her head around to face the speaker. How could the woman have come in without her noticing?

Nissy continued. “You’ve just had it blindside you without any warning.”

Twilight looked at her work instead of at the woman. “I know he’ll be back. I’m just being silly.”

“No, you’re not,” Remus said.

Twilight practically gave herself whiplash when she turned to face him. He was here too? She must have really been lost in her thoughts.

Tears trickled from her eyes. “Part of me is so angry that he abandoned me. Another part has never felt sadness like this before. What’s left is so proud that he showed such initiative.” Twilight took a deep breath. “I’m being selfish, and I’m hating myself for it.”

“Sounds complicated to me.” Rainbow munched on a doughnut as she examined what Twilight had been working on. “But I kinda understand how you feel, what with Scootaloo going, too. I just keep telling myself they are going out there to learn to be awesome.”

Twilight whipped her head around again. Rainbow was here too? She really had been out of it!

Twilight picked up a tuning matrix and said, “I need to get this finished before the foals get to the school.” She sighed. “I’ve only managed to triple check it so far.”

“Isn’t this your evil upheaval wizard whacker?” Pinkie asked, joining in with Rainbow, inspecting the objects on the table.

Twilight's neck grew sore from all the sudden movement. Pinkie was here too? What had she . . . Actually, that one wasn’t surprising in the least.

“I’m thinking triple checked means it’s ready,” Remus said. “This is coming from someone whose friends consider him to be anal when it comes to preparing for pranks.”

“I still have time for another couple of inspections before I take it to Hogwarts and give it to Minerva McGonagall,” Twilight insisted. “There are at least fifteen protocols I need to go over before its initial activation. It does need to cover the entire castle and grounds after all.”

“Is this the switch to turn it on?”

“Rainbow! Don’t! It hasn’t been tested yet!”

*click!*

“It has now.”

Everyone in the room held their breath in anticipation.

“It’s not doing anything.” Rainbow pouted. “I was expecting a kaboom. Where’s the kaboom?”

“It hasn’t blown up . . . yet,” Sirius said. “In my books, that’s a good start.”

Furtively, Twilight checked several indicators. “It’s working. You’re not supposed to realize it’s engaged; it is a subtle defense after all.”

“Anticlimactic!” Pinkie whined. “You got us all worked up over nothing. I thought it was supposed to blow something up.”

“It’s not supposed to be flashy.” Twilight huffed. “What it does is disrupt all of the magic from Voldemort. Any of his magic within its sphere of influence wouldn't have enough coherence to blow his nose, much less lift a pin."

“I still say there should have been a kaboom,” Rainbow grumbled.

“Rainbow.” Twilight growled, “That’s not the . . .”

“Wait!” Pinkie interjected, focusing her hearing deeper into the house. “Do you hear screaming?”

The teachers' lounge was filled to capacity. For the most part, the professors pretended to be there just to socialize before the term began. Anticipation hung heavy in the air. Something different was about to happen; everyone could feel it. The goofy grin on the divination professor's face was a blatant sign that someone knew what was about to happen.

Frustrated, Berrytwist spoke up. “So, Sybil, what’s with that knowing smirk?”

“What smirk?” Professor Trelawney asked, smirking.

“She means that you look like the cat who swallowed the canary,” the muggle studies professor stated.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Professor Trelawney waved off the accusation. “Minerva, have you had the extra bed in the apprentices' chamber prepared?”

Professor McGonagall sighed. “Yes, though I fail to see why you’ve been so insistent. Princess Celestia would have given some warning if she intended to send another apprentice.”

“I never said she was sending another apprentice,” Professor Trelawney countered.

Minerva drew her lips into a tight frown. “Just because you got lucky with the betting pools as of late doesn’t mean . . .” She stopped when an owl flew in from an orthogonal direction and landed on the desk next to her. She and the other professor stared at the crest bearing the sisters' symbol on the owl’s pouch. Then, as one, they turned to look at the still-grinning divination professor before returning their gaze to the owl.

“Tell me again how she’s unreliable,” Berrytwist ordered Pomona.

“Um,” said Professor Sprout.

“Are you going to open it?” Professor Flitwick gestured at the waiting owl.

Minerva cast one more glance at Sybil before producing her wand and placing the tip on the owl’s pouch. “Ex dimittere,” she intoned.

The sound of retching preceded the arrival of a dark-coated, bat-winged mare who looked stunned over the whole experience.

The professors stared before Minerva asked, “And you are?”

“Um.” The new mare hesitated. “Extra security?”

“Right then,” said Minerva. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

Silence met the announcement.

“Um,” the mare finally said. “Thank you?”

“Your room has been prepared,” Minerva stated.

“It has?” asked the mare.

“Indeed,” interjected Professor Trelawney. “it has been. Professor Snape, why don’t you escort our new friend to her new quarters?”

“I think not.” Said Professor Snape.

“I really think it would be a good idea.” Countered Professor Trelawney

“No,” said Professor Snape.

“Suit yourself.” Professor Trelawney frowned

The other professors in the room stared at the new mare while she stared hungrily at the potions master.

“Aren’t you going to say something about how your inner eye predicted this outcome?” Bathsheda asked.

“I fail to see how that would be productive,” Sybil answered.

“Right, then,” said Professor Goodman as that declaration was digested. “I propose that Sybil is no longer allowed to participate in any betting pools.”

“All in favor?” Minerva took up the vote.

“Aye!” came the reverberating response.

“All opposed?” Minerva concluded.

“Spoilsports,” said Professor Trelawney with a pout.

The new mare remained quiet and unobtrusive as she took in the reactions of the humans present.

“I suppose the after-hours patrol schedule is going to need to be reworked,” said Mrs. Rockwell, one of the recently-hired professors.

“I am sure we’ll manage,” Minerva said as yet another owl appeared to demand her attention.

“You know,” Filius said as Professor McGonagall untied a scroll from the avian’s leg. “With all of the changes going on of late, one is almost tempted to overlook the fact that owls have come to consider such banal things as physical barriers to be optional.”

“That’s new?” Berrytwist asked.

“Very much so,” said Marcy.

Minerva let out a sigh of relief. “We have our first complication,” she said, the tone of her voice belying the words.

“You say that as if it is a good thing,” Pomona observed.

“Considering she was probably expecting news of a fire-breathing dragon, anything less would be good news,” said Bathsheda.

“Don ‘t be silly,” Minerva said. “The notice of the fire-breathing dragon came several days ago. That’s old news.”

“You know, I can’t tell if she is joking or not,” said the muggle studies professor.

“This . . .” Minerva waved the scroll in her hand. “. . . is from the mayor of Ponyville. It would appear that several of their children have turned up missing. With the new wards Bill Weasley has helped set up to let them know when anyone underage enters their forest, she knows they are not there; she suspects that we may have some stowaways planning on joining our new semester.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Professor Goodman said. “However, I, for one, would like to revisit the topic of fire-breathing dragons.”

Director Amelia Bones was not a happy person. Being knee-deep in paperwork was never her favorite activity in the best of times. The situation she now faced threatened to make this the worst of times.

The muggle authorities were clamoring for her cooperation, and they were more than willing to pay for it. Already, three classes for new aurors had been scheduled, financed, and finalized. There would be tiers of skill among the new recruits as the muggles felt there was much utility in even the least qualified candidates. The muggles were notably outraged that individuals with seven years of magic school were being wasted on dead end jobs doing paperwork. They had dangled substantial sums to poach even the most menial clerks.

The Ministry was already making plans for the elimination of all the jobs associated with maintaining the Statute of Secrecy. They had feared the consequences of a sudden glut of jobless witches and wizards. They now found themselves coordinating with muggle employment agencies to meet the heavy demand for any magical.

Even a dropout could cast a simple stasis spell and activate a preprogrammed portkey. Two simple skills would almost guarantee a position with a muggle ambulance service. Several lives had already been saved by eliminating the time needed for an ambulance to transport a patient.

Skilled workers were in even more demand. Muggle hospitals were competing with each other to poach healers from St. Mungo's. They were even soliciting the graduating class at the magical medical academies. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

Amelia could fill her day just by reviewing open job opportunities for any enterprising magical. The muggles had known of the magical world for less than a month, and already they were creating jobs that could never have existed until the magical world merged with the muggle. There simply were not enough magicals available to meet the demand.

What was more surprising were the ideas that magical artifacts had inspired among the muggles. Something as ordinary as an exploding snap was working its way into law enforcement as a training aid. The Americans even wanted to put a vanishing cabinet on the moon, of all places.

All the department heads in the Ministry were swamped by the sheer volume of innovation from all of the fresh minds introduced to magic. Amelia wasn’t sure how Arthur was managing everything on top of maintaining relations with the ponies. It seemed that the wizarding world was determined to take every last second of his time for his expertise on muggles. He undeniably deserved more than the raise that came with his new position.

Despite all the disruptions, Amelia still had to fulfill all of the normal responsibilities of her job. While it was a relief that Dumbledore had escaped his captors, apparently no worse for wear, she was still unsure whether to categorize the disappearance of the key witnesses to his abduction as evidence theft or jailbreak. Even the Unspeakables were still debating the methods and merits of administrating veritaserum to rocks.

The thought of veritaserum brought a frown to her face. Several individuals high in the chain of command for muggle law enforcement had expressed desire to get their hands on a bottle or two of that particular potion. Merlin knows how such a breach of ethics would shake the status quo.

Amelia sighed. She was fooling no one but herself. The status quo was dead and buried. Combining magical principles with muggle technology and the unscrupulous was a recipe for disaster. She fervently prayed it wouldn't blow up in her face.

Chapter 3: Studying Schooling and SCIENCE!

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The retching sound that reverberated through the elegant throne room was generally associated with a more vitreous throne. For the six who tumbled from the owl's pouch, this was familiar territory. The first time around, it had come as a complete shock to find that they had arrived in a formal reception amidst a gaggle of gaily-colored ponies. This time, they were much better prepared, arriving in forms that were complementary to those of their hosts.

The peculiarly rainbow-coated unicorn looked decidedly greener than normal when she single-hoofedly scuttled whatever formal greeting that had been planned for their return. With her telekinesis, she wrenched the helmet from the nearest guard and dragged it to her. Fortunately, the stallion had the presence of mind to unbuckle the strap before his head went with it.

“Pardon me!” Nymphadora cried out as she shoved her muzzle into her newly acquired receptacle. The rainbow-coated unicorn then proceeded to generate a technicolor yawn.

The locals struggled to mask their disgust as they debated internally whether she or the pouch were more cringeworthy.

Princess Celestia broke the awkward silence that followed. "I see that owl travel lacks certain amenities."

With her voice muffled by the bowl of the helmet, Nymphadora replied, "That's not it." Absently waving a hoof toward Clementine and Jason, she said, "Seriously, you two need to get a room without the rest of us in it."

Defensively, Clementine said, "We can't help it if we spent most of the holiday apart. The second Jason's engineering professors learned why he had vanished for an entire term, they insisted on making sure that he could competently represent the profession."

“I even got some credits for all of the four-on-one tutoring I received,” Jason said happily. “With summer classes, I should still be able to earn my degree in a couple years.”

"My, your industriousness is impressive," said Princess Celestia with a gentle smile. "I am certain that Jury Rigged is going to pick your brain for all of that new knowledge you have acquired."

“That’s a given,” Jason agreed.

“I was going to give a small speech on how fruitful this exchange has been for everypony, but I think you summed it up nicely.” Princess Celestia chuckled. “It is good to have you all back. I’ve heard nothing but positive things from the ponies you have been interacting with.”

“Nothing but positive things?” the Hufflepuff who had designated himself as their representative asked.

“Well, there have been a few complaints that Clementine won’t share Jason,” Princess Celestia admitted, “but otherwise, all good.”

The apprentices shuddered at the calculating gleam in the princess's gaze.

Clementine grimaced. “They are out of luck,” she said defiantly. “He’s mine.”

“And what of Tonks?’” Princess Celestia lightly pressed. "There have been concerns that you have been repressing her by keeping Jason entirely for yourself."

“Wait,” said the Hufflepuff representative. “They can tell?”

“The nose knows.” Princess Celestia nodded.

“So, they aren’t upset that Clementine isn’t sharing with them. They’re miffed that she’s not sharing with Tonks,” stated the other Hufflepuff.

“In a nutshell,” said Princess Celestia. “There are concerns that Tonks isn’t getting her fair share as part of the herd.” She eyed all of the apprentices in turn. “I assume by the lack of apprehension that there is a human explanation for the discrepancy.”

“I can’t believe our love lives are drawing so much attention.” Nymphadora sighed, floating a half-filled helmet to her left side.

“Cutting off a mare in a herd is a serious matter.” Princess Celestia said. “There have been suggestions of counseling, and I admit I was unsure how to broach the subject, even knowing that humans do not normally form herds.” She studied the apprentices one more time. “However, the subject could not in good conscience be ignored. I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable.”

“We just told everyone that we were a herd to give Clementine some breathing room.” Jason sighed. “We didn’t think it would cause a stir.”

“Besides,” Clementine piped up. “Nymphadora has her eyes on Gordon.”

“I do not!”

“Your mother does love to talk, you know.”

“I see,” Princess Celestia said. “A herd that isn’t a herd. I confess that your current forms sometimes make me forget that you are not, in fact, ponies. I am at a loss on how to proceed with this conversation. However, I can tell that you find nothing unusual in this arrangement. Were you actually ponies, I would be making recommendations for equitable sharing. I fear, however, that this would be inappropriate for humans."

"I cannot believe our love lives are part of a conversation with a princess,” Nymphadora groaned.

“Or lack thereof,” Clementine added, looking at Nymphadora.

“You’re worse than my mother,” Nymphadora growled through gritted teeth.

“We are sorry for causing you such problems,” said the Hufflepuff representative.

"There is no need for apologies," replied Princess Celestia. "This conversation has been very enlightening. Despite all of the attention I have given the subject, I still feel as though I have yet to get a hoof on the basics of human herd dynamics."

The shanghaied ex-barmaid asked, "Does that mean you're not trying to get everyone married?"

Princess Celestia tittered. "That's Cadance's specialty, not mine. I am merely trying to head off any major complications. Even with my centuries of experience, I still find that relationships between the sexes are confounding."

Nymphadora floated the helmet she had been holding to peer into it. “Um, I’m going to derail that train of thought and make a quick trip to the loo. I’m sure your guard would appreciate his headgear back.”

“Is that love honey?” Princess Celestia visibly perked up. “May I?” she asked as she took the helmet in her own magic and floated it over for inspection. “Yes, this is exactly how Twilight described it.

“Sorry about the mess.” Nymphadora shuffled her hooves self-consciously.

“Were you just going to dispose of this?” Princess Celestia asked as she took a sniff.

“Yes,” Nymphadora admitted.

“That would be a waste,” Princess Celestia admonished. “I can already think of a plethora of uses for this, not the least of which is a midday snack. Normally I’d be skeptical if it were just Spike claiming that it was delicious, but Twilight has good things to say about it over crackers.”

Nymphadora sighed. “My Aunt Nissy has been storing it in jars.” She admitted, “She’s been giving it out as gifts to her friends.” The unicorn gave a drawn-out sigh. “She and Remus have been getting lovey-dovey in my presence just so I’ll puke more.” She sighed again. “Sirius and Twilight think it’s hilarious to help it along with their own interactions.” With yet another sigh, she said, “Pinkie even made love-flavored cupcakes.”

“Twilight mentioned those.” There was a small frown on the princess’s muzzle. “She was going to send me a couple, but she says they didn’t survive the trip to the packing box.” An almost imperceptible huff escaped her nostrils. “I’m going to have to have a small talk with Rainbow Dash about that.”

The harried mare sat behind her tidy desk as she tried not to cringe at what was sure to follow. As principal of the most prestigious primary school in Equestria, almost every school day started in the same way. There would be a small herd trying to persuade her to admit their darling foal prodigy into the academy, regardless of how far they were into the term. Most had attempted bribery, intimidation, seduction, or a combination of the three, and the mare's normal response to the more persistent was to schedule a meeting in the following week so that she could evaluate the request with due diligence, even though she was certain that she would be denying the request out of hoof. The harsh reality of the situation was that the number of applicants far exceeded the school's capacity.

The herd that sat before her ordinarily would not have merited any special consideration. Mother and foal both bore exquisite golden fur, but appearances were hardly a deciding factor. The fact that the other mare was Knight Elemental, Generosity would have barely been enough to warrant a follow-up meeting. It was the third mare, who had introduced herself as merely an interested third party, who had secured their position at the head of the queue.

To be blunt, despite the princess's insistence that she did not want her presence to influence the decision, the principal knew that rather few ponies could prompt a princess of the realm to simply tag along. All of the mares had insisted that they simply sought the same opportunity as everypony else, and they had beseeched the principal to make her decision solely on the merits of their application. Regardless, the pink pony princess calmly sitting beside the other mares tipped the scales like a boulder.

It was the principal's habit to go over every point in an application with midterm hopefuls. She took perverse pleasure in ferreting out all of the exaggerations, omissions, and outright lies that were always present. However, her sense of self-preservation far outweighed any pleasure that intense interrogation might have brought.

She inquired, "This will be the beginning of her formal education?"

The golden mare, who, except for her coat's color, would have been completely forgettable, replied, "Yes. Until recently, she had a medical condition that had necessitated home schooling."

The principal said, "It is far from ideal to introduce such a student into a classroom environment with the year half gone. However, we are more than capable of handling such a situation, if the student puts in the requisite work." Looking at the foal, she said, "Little one, do you understand that you will be expected to learn three months of material in one month and keep up with your current studies as well?"

Nervously, the golden foal nodded.

Looking back at the mother, the principal said, "So long as she can keep up with her studies, I am happy to accommodate you. The secretary can provide you with a list of tutors who can help her get up to speed."

“We are so grateful that you are willing to accommodate such an irregularity,” the knight elemental cooed.

“Think nothing of it.” The principle stopped levitating the application and set it down on her desk. “Though I must admit, I am not familiar with most of the signatory references you have listed.”

“I apologize,” said the golden mare. “They are well established in the society we come from, but it stands to reason they wouldn’t be well known here. If it would help, I have a signed recommendation from the princess.”

Princess Cadance joined the conversation when she felt the eyes of the principal land on her. “Oh no, not me. It’s from Auntie Celestia. I could write one as well, if you like.”

“That won’t be necessary,” the principal said. “Will Astoria be starting tomorrow or did you have another date in mind?”

The three mares beamed triumphant smiles, as if there had been any doubt on how this interview was destined to end.

Shyly, the golden foal left a small packet on the principal's desk. "S-sorry. I d-didn't have an apple."

The Knight Elemental said, "Don't worry dear. It may be a trifle, but it is the thought that counts." With that, the entourage left, closing the door behind them.

The principal laid her head on her desk, feeling unclean. How could the princesses sponsor such an obvious fraud? She looked at the gift that Astoria had left. It was something that only a unicorn could be expected to open. The name on the label was unfamiliar, but she was quite intimate with chewing gum.

Curious, she used her telekinesis to pull the small strip to open the package. She gasped when she saw that the outer cover was lined with a very thin layer of aluminum. The end on each of the five sticks showed the soft glint of aluminum. There was enough of the metal to buy Hearth's Warming dinner for the entire school on each individual piece of gum. The principal whispered, "A trifle? They must really be from a different world."

In the dingy house, several men rushed down the rickety stairs, only to be greeted by the most surreal scene they had ever encountered. On the living room table, a green bonfire was merrily burning with no discernable effect on the furniture. What they found most disturbing was that the flames were fueled by one-kilogram bundles that should have been safely stowed in the cellar. With little prompting, they turned their anger on the lone blonde woman who stood before the table with her back to them.

“This stuff smells horrible.” The woman’s voice came over her shoulder.

“Oy!” barked the leader as he gestured for two of his mates to put out the flames. “Who the bloody hell are you? Do you have any idea how much profit you're turning into smoke? Not that you're going to care about that, or anything else, in a few seconds.” He held a heavy-framed revolver in both hands and pointed it at her head.

The woman half-turned to address the man. “Do you have any idea how many families this stuff has broken in just the short time we’ve been here?” Looking at the weapon, she raised an eyebrow. "Overcompensating? Do you realize how useless that is to you now?"

Snarling, the man pulled the trigger. A metallic click could be heard throughout the room. He pulled seven more times. The results were identical.

"See?" said the woman. "I bet that's not the only thing here that's impotent."

"Bint!" the man growled as he stalked toward her. "I can still use it to beat that pretty face of yours to a pulp."

“I’m sure that you could.” The woman turned back towards the flames, warming her hands as she watched the men's futile efforts to save their livelihood.

The man took three more threatening steps forward when something flew over his head only to burst into flames as it joined the bonfire already in progress. He gasped when he looked up and saw the origin of the projectile.

“That’s the last of it, OB. They were upstairs breaking it down into smaller packages.”

The sea of eyes staring down put an abrupt halt to the other men’s futile attempts at fire control.

“Thanks Snatches,” acknowledged the woman, not taking her eyes off the flames. “Let’s finish up here; we’ve four other targets to hit today.”

“W-w-w-what are you going to do to us?” stammered the leader.

“Don’t worry, gentlemen,” said the woman. “Compound has been practicing obliviate for just such occasions. I'm sure she'll leave enough of you to earn an honest living.”

The headmaster sighed with contentment as he settled behind his office desk in Hogwarts. The initial trials of the morning had finally passed, and he had managed to mollify the faculty into accepting the absence of their headmaster during a critical planning phase as a minor inconvenience. He was sure that there was still some unease among the professors, but not nearly enough for anyone to raise any objections. It would do. He had enough of a reputation left to weather this minor storm.

There was a tingle from the castle wards as they sought to gain his attention. Humming slightly to himself, he closed his eyes to concentrate on the sensation. It looked like there was a group of parents at the main gates requesting entrance. A frown crossed his lips as he recognized several of them. His personal list of individuals to avoid at all costs had most of them at the very top.

Perhaps it was time to extend his holiday for a few hours, or failing that, there was bound to be a significant amount of paperwork that urgently needed his attention. Paper cuts and all, that assuredly promised to be less painful.

It was time to invoke one of the privileges of being the headmaster and request the aid of his deputy. She had good relations with the visitors, after all. Besides, she was currently socializing with the other professors in the teacher’s lounge, so some excitement would most likely be appreciated.

Taking a pinch of green powder, he activated the floo. "Minerva, this is Albus. Please attend our guests at the front gate. I, unfortunately, shall be otherwise occupied."

An earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn waited at the front gate in human form. Minerva frowned. With the destructive potential of those three, the reformed werewolf, the animagus, and the the auror were almost an afterthought. When she saw the expressions they wore, she almost wished that they had been carrying pitchforks and torches instead. Once she reached them, she said, "Good morning. What brings you here today?"

Mad-Eye Moody growled, "Need to go inside. Too many eyes and ears out here."

Sirius Black added, "It's something that concerns everyone here."

Minerva replied, "Let me bring the heads of house together. Please, follow me."

As they walked, Pinkie Pie asked with far too much enthusiasm, "Will Dumbledore be there, too? His is the big cheese and all."

Shaking her head, Minerva replied, "I'm afraid he is still unavailable."

"Aw, I have a trick I wanted to show him." She reached into her hair and withdrew what looked like two small wooden balls. As she casually closed her fist, a loud crunch filled the air. She opened her fist, revealing the delectable morsels that had been hidden by the shells. "Macadamias. Want one?"

The men in the group cringed.

Once they were inside the teachers' lounge, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick joined the group. Moody cast a security charm to thwart eavesdroppers. Twilight Sparkle-Black cast one of her own. She then said, "I have recently learned of a potential threat to those within the castle. I would like your permission to set up countermeasures. I promise it will bring no harm to students or staff."

Snape sneered. "And what is the nature of this threat?"

Rainbow Dash replied, "Hey! That's a huge secret. How do we know one of you isn't really a spy?"

Flitwick said, "We can cast the fidelus charm."

"We don't have that sort of time," growled Moody.

Vibrating excitedly, Pinkie Pie said, "We can just have everyone Pinkie Promise!"

"Pinkie Promise?" asked Sprout.

Sometime later, the four heads of house kept an eye on the proceedings as Twilight assembled a complex contraption in an isolated storeroom with a sturdy oak door. They fidgeted with their eye patches as Moody began creating a ward against unauthorized entry, intentional or otherwise.

"So," Sirius said nonchalantly as he watched his wife work. "Has Dumbledore submitted his resignation to the board yet?"

Minerva blinked before setting an accusatory glare on her former student. “How did you come across such privileged information?”

“Privileged?” Sirius snorted. “Whose idea do you think it was? It'll keep him from preying on our children.”

“I hate to burst your bubble,” Minerva said, “but he has decided to retain his post as headmaster at the expense of his other positions.”

“You can’t be serious,” snarled Black.

The heads of house stared at him, struck by the venom in his voice.

"Of course not," said Rainbow Dash. "You're the one who's Sirius."

“Oh! Oh!” Pinkie bounced with unrestrained enthusiasm, momentarily distracting all of the men. “I wanna say it! I wanna say it!”

“Okay Pinkie,” Twilight sighed. “We might as well get this over with.”

“Yay!” Pinkie cheered before taking an impressively deep breath and transforming back to her native form. In a raspy voice, she said. “Excuse me, I’m just a little hoarse.”

Disbelieving stares met her statement.

“What?” Remus asked.

“It needed to be said.” Pinkie shrugged as she answered in her normal voice while instantaneously taking on human form. “I figured it was my turn.”

“What?” Pomona asked.

“I just wanted to get in on the fun,” Pinkie replied.

“Pinkie Pie, you are so random,” said Rainbow Dash.

“I don’t know, Dashie, I’m sure everypony saw that one coming.” Pinkie smirked.

“Rrrrrrright,” Rainbow said. “Twilight are you almost finished?”

“Almost,” said Twilight. “I just need to make a few more tweaks.”

“Just what is it that you are tweaking?” Filius asked, unable to contain his curiosity any further.

“Well,” said Twilight, “it’s a matter of accounting for all the mutations and permutations our target can exhibit. Originally, it started as a brute force disruptor, but it soon became apparent that we only had enough power to target a relatively small set of magical signatures. Fortunately, my experiments showed that the phenomenon from which this all originated defined a family of signatures against which we had to defend. Then, we realized that our original idea required nearly instantaneous tracking, so that drove us to develop a spherical shield that would reflect an inverse spell back at the caster if they were outside and deharmonize magic if it were inside. Discord was actually a great help with that part. This led to the relatively easy process of continuously generating a background inversion routine that uses the target magic to power its amplification. That was almost too obvious, but Princess Celestia has repeatedly told me that the simplest answers can be the most efficient way to handle problems and should not be discarded out of hoof. Anyway, breaking down the solution to its basics rewarded us with a fifty-seven point two nine five percent increase in the diameter of our sphere of influence as well as an eighty-four point one two percent increase in dampening potential. With numbers this encouraging, imagine our surprise when we stumbled across another relic that contained not only the magic signature in question but also a piece of the soul of the caster. After a cringeworthy encounter with a house elf, we were able to secure the object, and it was almost a joke to bypass the defenses laid on it, as the protective magic was being scrambled, which in turn allowed us to extract the soul fragment and use it to amplify the defense broadcast by at least another seven point nine seven percent. I was unable to be more accurate than that since we were running short on time. We did want to get this here before the foals arrived, and here we are.”

There was more than one slack jaw in the room as she drew a breath.

“Wow! What a wall of words!” Pinkie said. “Just look; Dashie failed her saving throw against glassy-eyed comas.”

“Why do you think I normally stop her before she gets started?” Rainbow Dash drooled slightly.

“I’m just saying that another hundred words of meaningful content are owed after that blatant word count padding,” Pinkie groused.

“Please, don’t get her started again,” Nissy pleaded. “I’m sure she could manage another hundred thousand words and still not make any sense to the rest of us.”

“Actually, that was quite informative,” Filius said. “Who, exactly, is this device supposed to counter?”

“Voldemort,” Sirius growled.

The professors in the room all visibly flinched at the name.

“He’s dead,” Pomona informed the visitors.

“As far as we can tell . . .” Twilight shook her head. “. . . he’s only mostly dead.”

“Your saying he survived that night years ago?” Filius asked. “That’s inconceivable.”

“Unfortunately,” Severus said dryly, “there are several vile magics that would ensure that the Dark Lord could survive the destruction of his body. None of which are appropriate to mention in polite company. The fact that Mrs. Black mentioned happening across a piece of his soul leads me to believe he has succeeded in accomplishing one of the most disturbing methods.”

“It’s exactly as bad as you think,” Moody growled, “He’s done it at least twice successfully, as far as we can tell.”

“Twice?” Severus frowned. “He’s even more deranged than I would have guessed.”

“Three times actually.” Sirius said.

“That was a botched attempt.” Moody corrected.

“Harry had a piece of the wanker’s soul in his scar.” Sirius growled. “Botched or not, it was there.”

“And when exactly where you planning on sharing that tidbit?” Minerva asked in a terse no-nonsense voice.

“If you think that was bad; imagine learning about it over cocktails in an upscale lounge,” Nissy complained.

“We really are going to have to hold that class pertaining to the dissemination of critical information,” Remus added.

Minerva's stern gaze pierced each individual in the room. “What other secrets are you holding out on us?” she asked. Years of classroom experience added the promise of dire consequences to her words.

A tense silence followed as everyone did a quick mental inventory.

“All right!” Pinkie finally wailed. “You got me! I admit it! I used to wet the bed as a filly!”

“Me too,” Twilight whimpered.

“Guilty here, as well,” Nissy sighed.

“What can I say, even an awesome filly sometimes enhances the clouds.” Rainbow wilted.

“I think we can all affirm that deficiency,” Minerva said. “It is a natural part of growing up.”

“Aren’t you men going to say anything?” asked Pomona.

“No!” all of the men in the room, minus Moody, said.

“Never admit to weakness,” Sirius said. “It’s a bloke thing.”

“Let's get back to the business at hand,” Moody demanded.

“There’s nothing else important that I can think of right now,” Remus said. “Though I would like to swap notes with Severus to see if we can come up with anything pivotal.”

A pouch-wearing owl flew into the room from an orthogonal dimension, interrupting the conversation.

“You’ve got mail,” Rainbow said smugly as the avian landed on the table with Twilight’s project. The owl then held out a scroll towards her. “Oh wait, it looks like it’s for me.”

“It’s from the princesses.” Twilight noted the crest on the owl’s pouch.

“They probably want me for a super-secret important spy mission.” Rainbow unrolled the missive and began reading. “Hah! I was right; Princess Celestia wants to have a word with me. and she’s in such a hurry that she’s suggesting I ride this owl back.”

“Just a minute, Dashie,” Pinkie said, pulling a set of saddlebags from her hair which she handed to Rainbow.

“What’s this?” Rainbow asked. “Hurry up Pinkie; I don’t want to keep the princess waiting.”

“You're going to need these,” Pinkie said, pulling a large white box from her hair next. This was placed in the undersized saddle bags in short order.

“What was that?” Rainbow asked skeptically.

“Those were some love-flavored cupcakes I’ve been sitting on,” Pinkie said. “Well, not really. I don’t have a tail in this form. It’s more like they’ve been sitting on me.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Rainbow said. “I don’t have the time for a snack.”

“You’re going to need them.” Pinkie said. “Pinkie Promise you won't eat them.”

“Oooookay,” Rainbow said, climbing into the owl’s pouch. “See ya all later.”

“Can we get back on topic?” Moody growled as the owl took off.

“I’m done.” Twilight announced; she had been working during the conversation.

“Good timing,” Sirius said. “Go ahead and turn it on.”

“Hurry up Twilight,” Remus prodded. “The atmosphere is getting heavy in here.”

“Here we go!” Twilight intoned. “Time for the practical application of SCIENCE!” With those words she dramatically threw the switch.

“Still no kaboom,” Pinkie said in a voice heavy with disappointment.

“I have to agree,” Nissy said. “A few flashing lights wouldn’t be amiss, either.”

“It will be worth it if it protects the children.” Pomona dissented.

“How will we know if it works?” asked Filius.

As a master of occlumency, Severus Snape was a master of his emotions. He was a stoic without equal. It fell on him to provide the answer. His screams were sure to induce nightmares for months to come.

Chapter 4: Clinics Changes and Cupcakes

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The world could not be perceived in terms of black and white. Instead, everything was in shades of pink. It was everywhere! It was worse than being snow-blind. There may have been a little debate as to whether pink was the word of the day. It was definitely the color, though.

The room's only occupant blended in perfectly. His smoldering ire would have manifested as an evil black aura in his former life; now, it was a sickly bismuth color. Things were definitely not going according to plan.

He had been resurrected. It had been an event of epic proportions. It had been a show of unimaginable power. It had been a display of unprecedented magic. It had been a disaster of unmitigated extent.

Long had he anticipated being restored to his true body. Long had he anticipated returning to the prime of life. Never had he imagined that his new body would be awkward and feeble. Never had he imagined that his resurrection would cost him his wand hand. Never had he imagined that his humanity would be denied. Never had he imagined that his masculinity would be reduced to a state of mind.

He was supposed to have been commanding his core team of allies. One of the keys to his resurrection had slaughtered them. Now, his fate lay in the hands of the sole survivor, a dubious ally at best, an infidel. He was still trying to decide whether it would be preferable to strike out on his own.

The cursed woman had taken full advantage of his weakness. She had brushed his coat to a satin sheen. She had buffed his hooves to a mirror shine. She had braided his mane and tail and tied them with ribbons and bows. She had treated him like a beloved pet.

The face that looked back at him in the mirror was the prettiest filly one could imagine. The pampering and primping would have warmed and filled a girl's heart with glee. The smile announced that everything was right with the world.

He was a bloke, dammit! The body was a mistake, nothing more. Surely, Umbridge must realize that each insult would be visited back on her tenfold once he reclaimed his power. Did the woman lose all sense of propriety when she was confronted with the accursed color pink? If his mouth had not been too clumsy to wield a wand, the bloated menace would already have become intimately familiar with the full effect of the cruciatus curse.

The saucer from which she was lapping heavy cream was an affront to her sensibilities. Did the woman mistake her for a cat? Did that woman think she was some sort of exotic pet?

He, HE was a bloke, dammit! He was the feared dark lord! He should be drinking the finest of wines from a gem-encrusted gold goblet. He should be crushing his enemies beneath his heel. He should be showing the world why his name should only be spoken in hushed fear filled whispers. He should be showing the world why his name should strike terror in the hearts of all witches and wizards.

His . . . Her . . . HIS wrath would be felt by all!

There would be a river of blood to mark his displeasure!

They would all pay!

The old fool . . . the travesty that was the Potter brat . . . the army of faithless followers who had abandoned him . . . they would rue the day!

They would . . . Wait. What was that?

It took her . . . him a few seconds to remember what that particular alert meant; it was a legacy that he had intended to be a temporary annoyance but had been paying dividends for years. It had denied the mudbloods the knowledge that purebloods had been taught from birth.

Why had they chosen this moment to purge his curse from the DADA position at the school?

This was the final straw!

With a scream of outrage, she attacked the pillow on which she had been lying. A few strikes proved that her hooves were unable to produce the level of destruction that she desired.

Teeth were deployed. Frustration mounted. Minutes passed. Finally, feathers filled the air.

Why in the name of Merlin were they pink?! Did the accursed woman murder a flamingo?

The onlookers were horrified at the sight of the greatest of grand mal seizures.

“Hold him down! Hold him down!” Twilight commanded as she projected a magenta aura around the flailing potions master, cushioning him from anything that he might strike.

“Stupefy!” snapped Moody.

“That’ll work, too,” Sirius commented as the screaming ceased.

“It wasn’t my first choice of spells,” Moody admitted.

“Oh?” Minerva asked, knowing she didn’t really want an answer.

“Bombarda would have been too messy.” Moody nodded. “Lady Black would have objected.”

“Alastor!” Minerva admonished.

“I don’t understand!” Twilight wailed. “Why did it affect him? Do humans have a narrower range of thaumatic resonance wavelengths?”

“He’s still convulsing a little,” Filius noted. “Rather impressive, considering the spell used.”

“I’m on it!” Pinkie shouted, reaching for the cutoff switch. “There, no more twitching. By the way, did anypony else just get the sinking feeling that somepony has something against pink? And should I take it as a personal affront?”

“No, I can’t say that I’ve noticed anything of the sort.” Minerva eyed Pinkie for a second before turning to Twilight. “Do not fret, Mrs. Black,” Minerva said. “Your device works within your stated specifications. Severus’ past has just come back demanding interest.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked, staring at the downed man.

*Whummmmmmmp!* The solid door to the room shook.

*Sssssshhhhhrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaak!*

“Yaaaaaaaaarrrrrggghhhhh!!!!!!”

“Wards work,” Remus said, heading toward the door with his wand drawn. With a swift motion, he flung it open to peer out. “Severus!” he announced after a glance. “Your stalker has managed to follow you to the school.”

“I don’t think he can hear you,” Filius noted dryly.

“I wonder how she got here,” Sirius mused, looking around his friend.

“Owl, I suspect.” Remus put his wand away. “We can ask her after she wakes.”

“Maybe get her some medical attention first?” Sirius suggested.

“No need,” Moody said. “She only triggered the first warning ward I put up.”

“First warning?” Twilight asked warily.

“Tiers two through four are more dissuasive,” Moody said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Alastor, that is not appropriate for a school filled with children,” Minerva snapped.

“Fine,” Moody growled. “I’ll put up some prewarning wards, maybe tie in a few tickle charms.”

“Don’t worry, Professor McGonagall,” Remus said. “I’ll ward the wards so the students won’t get that far.”

“You do that.” Moody huffed.

“Well, that’s a bust,” Pomona said as she laced her fingers behind her neck and stretched. She then levitated Severus for a trip to the infirmary. “What should we do, now?”

“Get a new potion professor,” Moody suggested.

“Alastor,” Minerva said sternly. “What we are going to do is see if the ponies have a method for removing the mark from his arm. Until then, Lady Black’s defenses shall remain in reserve.”

“Mark?” Twilight asked. “What mark?”

In a private room in St. Mungo's, Doctor Leg Splint paced around a bed that the accommodating staff had modified to allow him to perform an examination without stretching. The small brown unicorn scowled when his face was hidden from his patient. He then fixed his professional façade and turned to the man who lay on the bed. "This is a perturbing case. Whoever designed this curse seemed to be determined to kill its victims. There are a disturbing number of agonizingly fatal pitfalls for any deviation from a narrow set of parameters."

The patient looked up with an accepting frown.

Doctor Splint looked at the chart floating in his aura. In a professional tone, he continued. "However, due to the recent scrambling of its magics, the fatal portions have been nullified. You might think of assassins with blowguns who have had their poisons neutralized. The attacks would be painful, but not fatal."

The patient said softly, "Pain is a state of mind."

The unicorn replied, "The good news is that we can remove it. However, it will be far from easy or pleasant. I will need a team of seven doctors, and the preparations will require at least a week. During that time, you will have to be almost completely immobilized, I'm sorry to say. You are in no immediate danger, but this thing is designed to kill you if any removal is attempted."

“That news is far better than what I had feared,” said the patient. “The Dark Lord was not known for his leniency.”

“You need to know,” said Dr. Splint, “you were extremely lucky; what you went through should have killed you.”

The patient did not even flinch. “I shall count myself lucky then.”

“This is not something to be flippant about,” the doctor pressed. “You could have died.”

“I am not being flippant,” the patient corrected. “I have merely spent too much time dwelling on what could have been. I simply do not wish to let this newest incident overshadow my current streak of good fortune.”

“I can see that I’m not getting the implications through your thick skull,” Dr. Splint said. "Let me lay this out for you. You have obligations beyond yourself."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I shall invite your wives in to explain it to you."

“You’re a sadist.” The patient stiffened where he lay.

"I'm a doctor. My first obligation is to the well-being of my patients." The doctor's frown deepened. "When they won't take what I say seriously, it is the obligation of their herdmates to see that they do."

The patient sighed. “I can see why you come so highly recommended.”

The platform at Hogsmeade Station was electric with anticipation as the regulars indiscreetly watched as the decet of strangers lay in wait. The locals knew that the lone male with them, Percy Weasley, should have been one of the students arriving on the Hogwarts Express. His obvious familiarity with the ten brightly-haired girls spoke of something distinctly out of the ordinary.

A gaggle of first-years immediately homed in on the group as the rest of the disembarking students participated in the fine art of voyeurism.

“Percy,” Ginny demanded, “why didn’t you ride the train? And who are these girls? Don’t tell me you picked up some more wives.”

Percy sniffed. “Is that any way to greet your brother?” he asked. “For your information, the girls and I were finalizing our acquisition of a good-sized home here in Hogsmeade. “

“Who are the extras?” Ron asked. “Mum is gonna throw a wobbly if you got more wives without telling her first.”

“George!”

“Never mind,” Sweetie Belle said as she watched one of the girls tackle-hug a surprised redhead. “That’s Minor Miracle; I should have recognized her mane style.”

“An’ Dull Roar, an’ Icy Hot, an’ Sad Smile, an' the rest of their herd,” Apple Bloom commented as Fred and George were swarmed. “Guess they wanted ta say goodbye again.”

Percy shrugged. “We had to pass around the rings, but we thought the surprise would be worth it.”

“The twins are definitely surprised,” Harry said.

“You should have heard Percy giggling madly when they asked to come along,” Gracious Tact said.

“I do not giggle,” Percy objected. “I was just thinking of how happy the twins would be.”

“You pranked Fred and George?” Ron said in awe. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

By that time, a crowd was forming to watch the show. A good portion were muggle-born, new to the magical world.

“They may be getting a little too frisky,” Hermione noted.

“Let them have their fun,” Parvati scolded. “They aren’t hurting anyone.”

“The only thing stopping this from being indecent is their clothing,” Hermione objected.

“Shhhhhh!” Lavender said. “Don’t give them any ideas.”

“They’re just marking their stallions,” Bristle said. “They don’t want the school mares to get any funny ideas. After all, it’ll be a few months before they can see the twins again.”

“That’s not true,” Percy said. “There’s always Hogsmeade weekends.”

“They aren’t to be students then?” asked an adult voice. Turning, the group found Professor Babbling peering over their heads.

“Professor?” Percy said in surprise. “What brings you down here?”

“Mr. Weasley.” Professor Babbling shifted her focus. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“Yes ma’am,” Percy said. “Please allow me to present Dainty Lace.” The girl in question curtseyed clumsily. “Bristle Barb.” A nod of greeting was her contribution. “and Gracious Tact.”

The last girl waved. “Oy.”

“Hello, ladies,” Professor Babbling said. “It is good to meet you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Dainty Lace said.

“While a longer introduction is warranted, I’m afraid I am pressed for time.” Professor Babbling shifted her attention again. “Miss Belle, I need to inspect your luggage. Would you mind enlarging it and opening the living quarters?”

“I don’t mind,” Sweetie Belle said warily, producing her shrunken trunk.

After the lid was lifted, Professor Babblings stepped forward and called down the stairs. “Is anyone down there? . . . Anypony?”

There was no answer. "I just need to do a quick check,” Professor Babbling said, starting her descent. “In the meantime, Miss Bloom, I’ll need to check yours next.”

“Yes’m, Professor,” Apple Bloom said as the woman disappeared.

A few minutes later, the professor was calling down a separate set of stairs. “Is anypony down there?”

“Yes,” came a girl’s hesitant reply.

“Well, don’t you think it’s time to come up?” Professor Babbling asked.

“A little help here?” Fred, or maybe George called out, breaking the tension.

The group turned to look at the girl-covered twins before turning their attention back to the trunk. By this time, a beanie-covered head stuck itself out of the chest, drawing oohs and aahs from the spectators.

“Button Mash!” Apple Bloom demanded. “What were y'all doing in mah trunk?”

“Taking a nap,” said a boy’s voice from somewhere below Button Mash.

“Hurry up, Mr. Rumble,” Professor Babbling said. “We are pressed for time.”

There were more oohs and aahs as four foals exited the chest.

“Just out of curiosity,” Professor Babbling said to the downcast equines. “How were you planning on paying for your education?”

“We brought gems,” said the purple unicorn filly.

“Your princesses have forbidden the trafficking of such items,” Professor Babbling said. “It is fortunate for you that Lord Black has pledged to cover your expenses. Hurry now; your parents are waiting at the Three Broomsticks; they wish to have words with you.”

Four sets of ears laid back on their respective heads.

“Mom’s here?” the purple unicorn asked.

“Yes, and she wishes to speak to you before the feast.” The professor repeated, “Hurry now.” With those words, she turned on her heels, the crowd parting for her departure.

“We are so grounded.” said the dejected pink earth pony filly.

The returning students were all familiar with the Great Hall. Thus, they were surprised by the changes within. The four house tables were in their normal locations. Each lay beneath its corresponding house banner. The staff table was on a raised platform in the front of the room, its traditional spot. Somehow, another house table had been shoehorned into the room beneath a banner with several shades of grey. The dimensions of the room had not changed, but the additional table did not seem the least bit out of place. The other anomaly was that there were now double the original number of chairs at the staff table. The size and spacing of the seats seemed to be the same as before, but somehow, twice the original number of seats occupied the original volume.

A series of groans originating from the Ravenclaw table filled the room as several students attempted to resolve the discrepancy. The transcendental geometry needed was beyond the capabilities of even the seventh-years. The resulting headaches were far more intense than anything that could be handled without prescriptions.

The students continued to ponder the mystery as stragglers trickled in. It seemed as though another carriage from Hogsmeade Station arrived every few minutes. When the first mid-year transfer arrived, all became clear. Professor Flitwick directed the new students to the anonymous house table instead of having them wait in the antechamber in anticipation of the sorting ceremony.

It sounded as though ten thousand conversations were trying to drown each other out as the seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. Just when everyone thought the last of the new students had arrived, another small batch would enter the room. After an agonizing ten minutes, Professor Babbling walked into the room with four young children in tow. The vibrant colors of their hair left little doubt that these were the four stowaways who had been rousted in Hogsmeade.

A tiny blonde girl in the last group broke away from her companions, rushing to the new house table. She squeezed in next to a rotund boy who was stressing the bench to its limits. Eagerly, she gave him a gleeful hug.

As soon as the last four students were seated, Dumbledore abandoned his golden throne to stand behind a decorative podium. The murmuring students fell silent to receive his words.

“Greetings, and welcome back from what I hope was a memorable break,” Dumbledore said, his voice easily discerned by all. “As you may have guessed, there are important announcements to be made and changes to be explained; not the least of which is our expanded student body.”

“Pardon me!” called out a young girl’s voice from the Ravenclaw table.

“Ah, we have an interruption,” Dumbledore said with a hint of amusement. “It's not a practice I would normally encourage; I assume you have a good reason.”

“Yes, sir.” Sue Li stood up, but kept her gaze firmly fixed on the bare table in front of her. “My father insisted that I do so since it would make what I’m about to say stick in everyone’s head.

“Then, by all means, continue,” Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile.

“Um.” Sue Li folded her hands in front of herself, clearly embarrassed. “I’ve had a strange and dangerous change happen to my magic recently,” she said with undisguised misery.

“Something that warrants disturbing the feast?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes' sir,” Sue Li replied. “You see.” She shuffled nervously. “Um.”

“I see that this is making you uncomfortable,” Dumbledore said gently. “In these cases, I personally find it is best just to get it over with.”

“Don’t make me angry.” Sue Li winced. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”

“That sounds uncomfortably like a threat,” Dumbledore said with a small frown.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Sue Li protested in a trembling tone, still looking down “What I mean is, the human body is amazingly flammable when enough heat is applied and I seem to have lost control in that department.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said. “Thank you for that warning. I am afraid I am going to ask you to consult with both Madam Pomfrey and your head of house following the feast.

“Yes, sir.” Sue Li sat down, seemingly melting into the bench.

Dumbledore nodded. “Now that we have that out of the way, I think the rest of the announcements can wait until you have eaten. You are all most likely famished after your train ride, so let us fill our bellies before delving into the finer points of the changes that will affect us all.” With those words, platters of food appeared on all of the tables.

The room was filled with the din of normal dinner conversation. An unearthly silence filled the chamber after a voice from the new table screamed, "MEAT IS MURDER!"

It was a groggy Princess Luna who trod with exaggerated steps upon the marble hallways that traversed the palace. It had been a new maid who had attended to her needs this eve, and the mare had forgotten the most important part of her duties. Woe betide the pony who stood between the Princess of the Night and her coffee, which had better be standing at attention, awaiting her arrival in the kitchen.

With a loud yawn, Princess Luna passed a grumbling pony laboring away at the floor, mop in mouth. The yawn cut off abruptly as realization struck.

Rounding on the laborer, Princess Luna said, “Loyalty? Why dost thou seem preoccupied with such a lowly task?”

Loyalty spat out the mop handle. “Oh, hello Princess,” she said as she scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot with a forehoof.

“Hello, Loyalty,” Princess Luna returned. “Pray, answer the question.”

“This is just a subtle reminder not to eat cupcakes that are supposed to be for your sister,” Loyalty answered.

“Thou must work on thy definition of 'subtle',” Princess Luna said.

Loyalty muttered something unintelligible.

“Thou ate cupcakes destined for our sister’s gullet?” Princess Luna asked.

Loyalty only nodded in response.

“Thou must also work on recognizing the line twixt bravery and foolhardiness,” Princess Luna reprimanded.

“I didn’t know Twilight had earmarked those cupcakes for Princess Celestia,” Loyalty protested. “By the way, your sister can be very scary.”

"Thou hast consumed her cupcakes,” Princess Luna said evenly. “What didst thou expect?”

“She didn’t even give me the opportunity to offer up the cupcakes I have in my saddlebag,” Loyalty complained. “Pinkie made them to make up for the ones from earlier.”

“Thou hast cupcakes in thy saddlebags?”

“Yeah.”

With a smirk, Luna reached out with her magic and retrieved a white box from the bags in question. “What flavor be these?”

“Love.”

“Love?”

“With vanilla frosting.” Loyalty nodded.

Princess Luna peered into the box. “They art pink,” she noted.

“Yup.”

The munching commenced. “They art very good.” Several crumbs fell toward the newly cleaned floor before a blue aura returned them to the Princess of the Night.

“I wonder if it’s too late to give them to Princess Celestia,” Loyalty mused.

“We think we shall be the one to present our sister the love,” Princess Luna said, hoping to secure a cup of coffee before the sugar rush faded. “Good eve to thou, Loyalty. Oh, and be warned.”

“Warned?”

“Thou missed a spot.”

The hall quieted once again as Dumbledore retook his place behind the podium. “Well now,” he said as he settled behind the gilded artifact. “We have all been fed and watered, with some explanations of the nature of beasts raised for meat thrown in.”

A chuckle wafted from the students.

“Since I know many of you are now wanting your beds, I shall keep this as brief as possible, though I fear it will still be a lot to take in. First of all, due to the collapse of the statute of secrecy, we now find ourselves with a surfeit of new students. Because of the unconventional nature of their education, it has been decided that they will not at this time be sorted into the houses.”

A murmur rippled through the audience.

“Fear not; they shall be sorted at the beginning of our next full year. For now, we have arranged temporary quarters. They shall be attending classes together, and it is thought that their integration shall go more smoothly once they have the basics under their belts. This is being done purely for logistical reasons.”

Another murmur followed.

“Let us have a round of welcoming applause for our newest additions,” Dumbledore prompted.

Loud clapping and whistles came from three of four of the established house tables, with the Slytherins being the notable exception.

“I trust everyone shall do their best to make our newest members feel welcome.” Dumbledore said when the noise finally subsided.

Much nodding met this statement.

“Now, I fear it is time for the more transitional announcements. Our first major change is the complete reworking of our previous routines. Everyone shall be receiving new schedules tomorrow morning, so breakfast in the Great Hall shall be mandatory.”

A few boos rang out.

“Now, now,” said the headmaster. “It is but a minor inconvenience, I am sure you shall all adjust accordingly. Next up is a cultural note pertaining to our pony friends. Henceforth, students below the age of seventeen shall be strongly discouraged from forming herds due to the permanent nature of the commitment. We are certain that those who have not yet reached their majority are unable to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation.”

Several growls came from the Gryffindor table.

“This will not affect herds already formed; however, I must stress the unfamiliarity human students have with the concept,” Dumbledore said. “This precaution is in place to preclude potentially devastating misunderstandings. This is subject to change as we become more attuned to our Equestrian visitors, and this rule has been approved by the muggle and wizarding governments. This is also advocated by the princesses of Equestria."

More growls came from the Gryffindor table, but they sounded more surprised than not.

“I will remind everyone that despite the revocation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, magic in the hallways is still prohibited.”

More boos met this statement. While the students were displaying their displeasure, Professor McGonagall walked up to the podium and handed the headmaster a piece of parchment.

“Ah,” Dumbledore said after reading the note. “While we do have several additions to the staff that I had meant to leave for the end of our announcements, it would seem that we have a last-minute change that I shall squeeze in. It would seem that our potions master will be unavailable for a short interval. However, his duties shall be covered by . . .” Dumbledore reread the parchment before turning to Professor McGonagall. “There seems to be an error, it says that Professor Snape shall be covering the duties of Professor Snape.”

Professor McGonagall leaned in and whispered to the headmaster.

“Ah, I see,” Dumbledore said turning again to address the students. “Due to the unexpected nature of the absence, Professor Snape’s wife Zakariyya shall be filling in for her husband for the foreseeable future.”

“His wife?!” many cried, but the words were drowned out by the enthusiastic cheering and wolf whistles that rocked the hall.

In every corner of the palace, alarms were blaring. Guard ponies ran around with looks of panic, doing their best to herd the stampede of citizens out of harm’s way.

“Code Mercury! Code Mercury!” one of the guard lieutenants was yelling at the top of his unicorn-amplified lungs. “We have a Code Mercury! This is not a drill!”

The palace shook as a particularly loud explosion shook the structure.

“What happened?” a senior officer demanded of his junior.

“The princesses are having a spirited discussion, sir,” the junior replied warily.

The senior officer fixed the younger with a stare. “Does it involve cake?” he demanded.

“I SWEAR LUNA, IF YOU DON’T HOOF OVER THOSE CUPCAKES RIGHT THIS INSTANT, I’M GOING TO SHOW YOU THAT YOU ARE NOT TOO OLD FOR A PADDLING!”

“BRING IT, SISTER DEAR! WE ART PREPARED!”

“Err . . . yes . . . sir,” said the junior officer.

The senior officer sighed. “We’ll Just let them work it out for themselves." A shower of buttercream coated the pair. "In the meantime, tell the kitchens to make sure the cake vault is freshly stocked."

Chapter 5: Boring, Bedtime and Bacon

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"Boring" was the word for the day . . . or night . . . or whatever hour it might be. Time passed with nothing to mark its passage, not even the beating of his heart. It was as though perfect order had been achieved; truely a fate worse than death.

"Cramped" was the next adjective that came to mind. Someone with claustrophobia would have gone insane by now. His cage kept him tethered to one point. It magically expanded to give him an inch leeway on all sides, regardless of posture, so long as he remained centered on his spot. It shrank to match his rodent form while enlarging to match his human form. The result was that the only activities open to him were calisthenics, both physical and mental. It was the ultimate time out.

There weren't even meals to break up the monotony. Whatever magics were imprisoning him also kept all of his biological processes in stasis. Given the lack of toilet facilities, this was a mixed blessing. A wry half-smile graced his face as he savored the realization that this was still better than Azkaban. However, it was cruel in a manner he had never before thought possible.

Here, nothing would ever change. Seeking to soothe his boredom, Peter lifted his head and screamed in frustration.

Greedily the walls devoured the sound, abruptly returning the room to silence once Peter shut his mouth. “I don’t want to hear anything from you,” said the only other creature that showed any signs of being able to speak the Queen’s English. “They promised they would move you elsewhere once they could be assured that you couldn’t escape. They were even promising you convalescent visits. That’s better than anything they’ve ever offered me.”

“How do you handle it?” Peter demanded, turning his attention to Tirek.

“I just remind myself of all of the things I’m going to do to those ponies once I’m free.” Tirek shrugged. “You’re welcome to help.”

Peter didn’t so much as bother to answer.

“You have yet to tell me why you’re here.” Tirek pressed, “How close did you come to taking over?”

Peter just sighed. He took his rat form and settled down for yet another nap.

Rosie approached the new trunk set up in the living room. Her father had strapped it down so that it couldn’t be moved taking extra time to ensure that the lid couldn’t be shut accidentally or otherwise. She peered down at the exposed stairs and called out. “Granny! Mum and Dad have gone to work!”

“Thanks, dear,” an elderly voice called back. “I’ll be up in a few.”

“Okay, Granny!” Rosie yelled. “I’m just going out for a bit to pick up a friend to go to school with us!”

“Your dad hadn’t mentioned driving anyone else.” Granny’s voice held a questioning tone.

“She doesn’t have a ride,” Rosie answered. “It’ll be a surprise for her, too.”

“I don’t know, dear.” Granny’s voice said. “Maybe I should talk to her parents first.”

“You can talk to them after school,” Rosie insisted. “I’ll take Eva with me to go get her.”

“Alright.” There was a sigh in the voice now. “I guess there’s no harm, in that.”

“Thanks Gran,” Rosie said. “We won’t be long.” Without waiting for another reply, Rosie headed toward the fireplace.

A budding zoologist might claim that the snow in the clearing had been tamped down by a herd of buffalo. They would have been immediately upbraided by a more senior scientist. The prints were the wrong shape. The prints were the wrong size. Besides, the centaurs responsible were huddled together at one end, staring wide-eyed at their two early morning visitors.

“H-how did you find us?” one of the larger males shakily asked.

Eva pointed a sleepy hoof at the cooking fire merrily crackling away. A plume of white smoke lazily drifted skyward. “Were you supposed to be hiding?" she asked.

“What do you want?” another male demanded as the group took an involuntary step back from the deceptively harmless appearing bundles of chaos.

“We want Licenta to come to school with us,” Rosie cheerfully said.

“And your elders have given their permission?” Licenta’s mother asked.

“Our principal said she would be welcomed.” Rosie smiled. “He said there was an open invitation.”

“I don’t know . . .” Licenta’s mother started.

“You can keep her. It’ll be better for everyone involved.” The first male broke in. “I can no longer see her; she was already lost to us.”

Licenta’s mother sighed, and a tear trickled down her cheek as the filly in question smiled widely. “I’ll escort you to the edge of the forest,” said the elder female.

It was official; he was a freak. As far back as he could remember, his parents had ranted against anything that wasn’t normal. The break had changed all that, leaving him more than a little confused. Overnight, his parents' attitude had been reversed. He had been told not to call his cousin a freak anymore. He had been denied thirds at meals. He hadn't been able to convince his mother to do what he wanted, even when he had thrown a tantrum.

Mum and Dad had tried with several long conversations to explain the changes, but his anger had muted a lot of what had been said. His perfect world had been shattered. He had still been reeling from the upheaval when one of the women from supper the night before had shown up at the front door. She still had that ridiculous hair, but this time she had come holding an owl.

His mum had asked him to keep the woman, Bon Bon, company in the sitting room as she finished off a few last-minute chores. The wait had been awkward, and the woman had tried to lighten the mood by asking the owl how it had liked the trip. He was now fairly certain that he could fluently swear in owl if push came to shove.

When his mum finally came back, they had been ushered into the pouch that the owl had worn. A concept he still found creepy. However, the ride had resulted in the best day of his life. He had met the ponies. Miss Bon Bon had turned out to be a pony herself. The day had been a whirlwind of memories. His mum had breathed fire. Miss Sparkle, the purple unicorn, had unblocked the magic that he and his mum never knew that they had. He had been seen by another unicorn, this one a doctor. He had acquired a little unicorn friend who fit snuggly in his lap. He had eaten several new and wonderful things. He had even apologized to his cousin. He had even been sincere.

Things could have gone better, on that front. The weight of the apology had left him feeling worse than he could ever remember. It had also felt right, somehow. His new unicorn friend had been with him as he wallowed in the new sensations. It had been horrible. It had been horrible, yet somehow it had left him feeling more right with the world. He still didn’t understand; he could only accept that everything had changed. It was almost a disappointment to go home after that.

Then, another woman had shown up at the front door. She had been accompanied by another unicorn and a couple of men wearing robes. His mum had informed her that Harry was no longer living with them and that the floo connection was no longer necessary. The woman had responded by saying that the connection was also for him. She had said that Dudley Dursley was on her list of muggleborn. That was the moment he had realized that he had become a freak. The rest of the break had passed like a dream. They had visited a magical shopping center where he and his mum had bought wands and he had gotten school supplies for his new school. He would be going to the same school as his cousin.

Not long after, yet another woman from the fated supper had shown up at the house. Instead of using the front door, like normal, she had stepped out of the fireplace. His mum and the woman had yapped all through teatime and at some point his mum was invited to take part in private tutoring.

He had ignored much of that; preferring to concentrate on hanging out with his gang. They had welcomed him back; having missed him since he had been away at boarding school. Thus, he had whiled away the rest of the break, the same as always, yet changed forever.

When the time had come for school, his parents had stuffed him onto a train and said their goodbyes, leaving him to face the unknown alone. He had been lucky to find a compartment with more kids his own age who were also going to Hogwarts for the first time. Most of that trip had been spent listening to Ralph, a smaller brown-haired boy, go on about how he was looking forward to learning magic and how he would be casting magic missile before the week was out, the heck with cantrips.

The next interesting thing had happened after they had exited the train; a pair of redheaded twins had been wrestling with some girls and losing badly. They had put on a good show though. He never would have dreamed that a quintuple leg-scissors was even possible.

The trip to the castle had been an eye-opening experience. Carriages that moved by themselves were the mode of locomotion. Ralph hadn’t shut up for the entire jaunt.

Several notable things happened in the dining hall that night. First of all, a girl had sat down next to him and started hugging him. It turned out that she was his little unicorn friend, and her name was Dinky. There was no doubt that he had caught cooties.

Then, when the meal had appeared; just appeared on the table, everything had seemed to be going swimmingly. The food had been tasty and plentiful. For the first time in a long time, he had been sure he would be having thirds and fourths and fifths. Well, that had been a vain desire. At the raised table one of the teachers had frowned in his direction as he went about stuffing himself. She had waved her wand at him and suddenly all the food on his plate had disappeared; anything else he had tried to add simply returned to the serving platter. When pudding had appeared, he had managed one slice of cake before the vanishing food annoyance had started up again. He didn’t need Ralph to explain to him that the witch had cast some kind of diet spell on him. Drawing on past experiences of not getting what he wanted, he almost lost his temper. If it weren’t for Dinky placing her hand on his forearm, he was sure that he would have.

After the meal, there had been more announcements, and the professors had been introduced. He knew that there was no way he could remember all the names that had been thrown at him. When all of the blathering had finished, one of the professors had come down to their table and introduced herself as Professor Babbling, their point of contact, their head of house. She had then led them out into the courtyard where a large tent had been waiting. With a flourishing wave, she had declared that relic from a dead circus to be their home for the rest of the year.

A sense of dread had gripped his spine at the thought of being crammed into the flimsy structure with the rest of the new students. That apprehension had vanished once they had entered. The inside was completely at odds with the outside. A large comfy common room had been the first thing they had seen. With a start, he had realized that the temperature was very comfortable. Then, with another start, he had realized that Dinky had never left his side.

With crisp efficiency, Professor Babbling broke them into groups, directing each to separate rooms. Exhausted by the long day, it hadn't been long before he crawled into bed and had fallen asleep.

The rotund boy quivered like a bowl of jelly as he was roughly shaken. “Hey, you two need to get up!” Ralph said as he continued his assault.”

“I’m going to punch you if you don’t stop,” Dudley threatened.

“Good, you’re awake,” Ralph said, walking away. “Now get up.”

Dudley lay there for a few seconds, trying to take in his surroundings. The prat had left the curtains surrounding his bed open, letting in the light. Wait? You two? Slowly, Dudley realized his arms were wrapped around something. Looking down, he saw a mop of yellow hair. Well, that was new.

Dudley was aware of Ralph drawing back the curtains on the next bed over. “Get up!” demanded the prat.

“Guah?” came a voice in response.

“You really are a pony.” Ralph said. “Are those wings?”

“Yeag,” came the reply.

“Well get up!” Ralph said. The muffled thump of a pillow hitting someone in the face followed.

Dudley looked down again. What was Dinky doing in his bed?

Another curtain was pulled back. “Get up!”

“Whaaaa?” came a voice.

“You’re not a pony,” Ralph accused.

Grumbling ensued followed by. “I’m a dragon.”

“A little dragon,” Ralph said way too cheerfully. “Cool, what kind of breath weapon do you have?”

*Whoosh*

“Green flames.” Ralph crooned. “Cool! What kind of damage can you do with that?”

“If you don’t shut up, you’re going to find out,” replied the voice.

“Don’t be a grump; now get up.” Ralph said, moving on. “And you might want to ask for a new pillow; it looks like you vaporized yours.”

"Celestia! No!"

Dudley noticed Dinky looking up at him. “Morning already?” she asked.

Dudley grunted and closed his eyes for a few more minutes of sleep. It was official; he was a freak.

Wait! Was she naked?

The sun wasn’t up yet as Emma Granger stood over her stove waiting for the pot of water to start boiling. When she was satisfied, she added a few pinches of salt and started to reach for the porridge mix. As her hand fell on the box, she heard something tapping on glass. Looking up, she saw an owl patiently awaiting entrance. With a sigh, she crossed the room to let the bird in. After closing the window, she took a few treats from a covered bowl before trading the food for the letter the owl was carrying. As the owl departed, she read the missive.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger,

I hope this letter finds you well, and I wish to start out by assuring you that your daughter is not in any trouble. That having been said, it has come to my attention that Hermione has arrived at school in possession of a puffskein. This is an annual occurrence among first-years, especially those raised in the muggle world. However, there are reasons that this harmless creature is not on the approved list of pets. In short, young witches and wizards form bonds with their animal companions, and I’m afraid puffskeins are best described as disposable pets. Their life spans are not the greatest under the optimal of conditions, and they are, unfortunately, favored snacks for both cats and owls, as well as the larger toads. It would be advisable if you were to come and collect the creature from your daughter to avoid future heartache and disruption to her magic as a result of the previously mentioned bonds breaking harshly. You are reminded that the approved list for familiars is as follows, one owl, cat, or toad.

Thank you for your time, and I apologize for the inconvenience.

Yours respectively,

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

Emma sighed as she put down the letter. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. Grimacing slightly, she filled a cup from the faucet to replace the water that had boiled off from the pot.

Mrs. Brown stumbled through the house, loosely holding a letter from Hogwarts. Her husband hadn’t been in their bed when she had awakened, and his side hadn’t been warm. This was more than a little disturbing; he had never woken before her in the past. Was he still fretting over their temporary status as werewolves? They had been assured that a cure would be made available in the spring. It wasn’t long before she heard a familiar boinging sound and her frown deepened. She was not at all happy when she strolled into the sitting room.

“Dear, have you been at that all night?” Mrs. Brown demanded as she found her husband in the exact same spot he had been in when she had decided to head to bed. Her son was in another chair, patiently holding his controller and waiting on his turn.

“Hun?” said Mr. Brown, not taking his eyes off the telly. “Just give me a few more minutes. I want to finish this level.”

“Have you two been at this all night?” Mrs. Brown demanded harshly.

“All night?” asked her son, turning to look at the window and widening his eyes when he saw the early morning light. “Dad, you need to go to work.”

“What?” Mr. Brown said, pausing the game. “Don’t joke, I have a few good hours to sleep yet.” He turned to look at the window as well. “Um,” he said after a pause. “Hun? Do we have any pepper up potions in the house?”

Eva and Rosie stared up at their Granny as the elderly woman stared down at her granddaughters and their friend. The friend was poking Rosie curiously after witnessing her change from being a little pegasus.

“This is your friend who needs a ride?” Granny asked cautiously.

“Yes Granny,” Rosie said cheerfully. “She’s coming to school with me.”

Granny scrunched her nose. “And her parents are okay with this?”

“They said we could keep her,” Eva said. “They said she was too chaotic.”

“They did, now did they?”

All three girls nodded.

“I see,” said Granny. “Licenta was it then?”

“Yes,” said the little centaur.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” asked the elderly woman.

“No,” replied Licenta. “The adults hadn’t finished eating yet when Rosie and Eva showed up.”

“You weren’t eating with them?” Granny asked.

“No,” said Licenta as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I have yet to earn my place, and since my life span is going to be so short, I never will.”

“Your life span is going to be short?” asked Granny.

“It has been foreseen that I will be eaten by an acromantula,” Licenta said.

“Oh,” said Granny with a frown. “What’s an acromantula?”

“Large spiders that live west of our territory.” Licenta shrugged.

“Well, we are just going to have to keep you away from them,” replied Granny. “Now, to the table with the lot of you.”

“Mum already fed us,” Eva noted.

“Yes, I saw the frying pan in the sink,” Granny said. “We’ve time for a bowl of cereal, and you can keep your friend company. Licenta, dear, what kind of cereal would you like?”

“I do not know.”

“I suppose we should start with corn flakes then,” Granny said leading the children into the kitchen, “and maybe some fruit to go with.”

“You have fruit?” Licenta asked. “In the middle of winter?”

“Yes,” replied Granny. “Would you fancy an apple?”

“I may have an apple?” Licenta sounded very hopeful.

“Of course, you may, dear,” Granny said. “We have Macintosh and Red Delicious; which would you prefer?”

“Whichever you are willing to spare.” Licenta said, excitement filling her eyes and voice.

“Here you go,” Granny said after retrieving one from the ice box. She was more than a little rattled at how the little girl inhaled the treat. Keeping an eye on the child, she retrieved a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with the promised processed corn-based breakfast. She was even more dismayed when Licenta ate the core and stem without blinking.

“Thank you,” Licenta said when she had finished. “That was delicious.”

Granny chuckled. “Well, it was a Red Delicious. Now, how are we going to do this? You are too short to reach the table and I don’t think you’ll fit comfortably in a chair. I suppose sitting on the floor will have to do for now.”

“Okay,” Licenta said, lowering herself to the floor, as the two girls sitting at the table giggled. “Will this do?”

“It will have to.” Granny handed Licenta the bowl. “I apologize; we haven’t had a centaur as a guest before.”

“Thank you.” Licenta said eyeing the bowl in her hands.

Granny turned to head back to the refrigerator. When she returned with the milk, the food was already half gone.

“Didn’t you want any milk with that?” Granny asked as the centaur took another handful, stopping with the flakes halfway to her mouth.

“I’m not a nursing foal,” Licenta informed her.

“I can see we have a few things to work on,” Granny said as the little centaur started to chew on her next handful.

The muggle studies professor was strolling down the hall towards breakfast, chatting amiably with Professor Vector, when a group of younger children accompanied by a woman in a yellow dress passed by them. Taking advantage of the chance encounter, he called out for them to stop.

“Yes Professor?” a young girl with bright red hair and sporting a huge bow asked as the group ground to a halt.

“Bacon!” protested the woman, obviously dismayed by the interruption. “Bacon!” she repeated pointing in the direction of the Great Hall.

“Sorry to hold you up," the muggle studies Professor said pacifyingly. “I was just wondering who this young woman accompanying you was. I spotted her sitting at your table last night, and I must admit I was curious but neglected to make inquirers. May I get your name?” The last was directed toward the woman.

The woman peered at him a second before puffing out her chest. “Magah! Magah eat bacon!”

“Good job, Magah,” praised a girl with pink and purple hair. She had a beautiful red and gold bird sitting on her left shoulder. “You’re getting the hang of sentences.”

The muggle studies professor’s confusion clearly shone on his face. “Getting the hang of sentences?” he asked.

“She’s Sweetie’s pet,” one of the boys with red hair answered. He started to take a few steps toward breakfast as if that was all that needed to be said.

“She’s not a pet, Ron,” the pink- and purple-haired girl snapped.

“Sweetie has a pet woman?” the muggle studies professor ventured.

“It doesn’t sound better no matter how many times you say it to yourself,” Professor Vector said, trying and failing to hide her smirk.

“I can’t imagine how it would,” the muggle studies professor said. “What’s going on here?”

“Bacon!” Magah said forcefully. “Eat bacon!”

“You’ll get your bacon in a few minutes,” the bow-bearing girl said. “Ah’m sorry professor; she hasn’t had any since break started, an’ she’s being a mite impatient.”

“Is she a student then?” the muggle studies professor asked.

“No, she is registered as a pet,” Professor Vector answered, “and I must say, she is starting to display a remarkable level of comprehension, all things considered.”

“How is it noteworthy that she is showing a remarkable level of comprehension, and how does a student have a human pet?” the muggle professor said with a bit of an edge in his voice.

“Despite appearances she’s not a pet human,” Professor Vector said. “Miss Belle, would you mind showing my colleague her true form?”

“I’ll try Professor,” the purple- and pink-haired girl replied. “She’s learned how to change without her necklace, and she can be stubborn. Magah, four legs now.”

“No,” said the pseudo woman. “Bacon.”

“Don’t be like that, Magah,” said a girl with bushy brown hair. “The sooner you change, the sooner you get your bacon.”

“No,” said the pseudo woman. “Bacon.”

“See what I mean?” asked Miss Belle with a shrug.

“She really wants her bacon.” Professor Vector smiled. “She’s smarter than I would have guessed, at least at the level of a two-year-old, I would venture.”

“I have no idea how old she is,” mused Miss Belle.

“You might want to ask Hagrid,” Professor Vector said. “I’d wager he has an idea.”

“Bacon!” demanded Magah.

“Well, since she’s not being cooperative, I’ll just let you know that she is a unicorn from the forest that the children have taught to take a human form,” said Professor Vector to her companion. “Her status is that of a beast. Granted, a beast displaying near human levels of intelligence, but a beast nonetheless.”

“She’s a unicorn?” the muggle studies professor said incredulously. “That’s remarkable. How would I go about getting myself a unicorn?”

Professor Vector opened her mouth to reply but was beaten to the punch by a girl with solid purple hair. “If you really want a unicorn, we could just drop you off in the middle of town. You’d have one or two in fifteen minutes, give or take fourteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds.”

“It would all depend on how fast you can run,” stated a boy with messy black hair.

“To be fair,” said a girl of Indian descent, “they wouldn’t be the same kind of unicorns, and it would be up to debate on who belongs to who.”

As if reacting to a cue, the bird squawked and launched itself from Miss Belle’s shoulder only to land on the muggle studies professor’s. There was a flash of flames, and then they were both gone.

A few seconds of silence followed as all of the children and the remaining professor traded worried looks.

“I told you it wasn’t a good notion to give her ideas,” the girl with bushy brown hair finally scolded. “She’s been hanging around the Marauders and Mr. Discord.”

“I wonder how fast he can run,” mused the boy with messy black hair.

“I wonder how big his herd is going to be,” added the girl with solid purple hair.

“We are so getting detention for this,” the girl of Indian descent said.

The school shuddered as if a million stomachs cried at once. "BACON!"

Chapter 6: Birds, Banter and Blanching

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The tidy office that was his sanctuary was now feeling more like a cage. The previous day had been long, tiring, and more than a little unnerving. The attention his little school had garnered was as unwelcomed as it was understandable. For Headmaster Smith, it was proving to be a headache. He had spent the day in meetings with people he would have otherwise been lucky to have been given a cursory introduction. All the scrutiny was due to having been lucky enough to have two known ponies as students. The eyes of the government were firmly on his tiny domain. He could now empathize with his primitive cousins' preference for putrid projectiles.

There had been warnings for him not to pry too deeply. Those warnings did not seem to extend to the officious observers that plagued the campus. Despite the apparently open nature of the dimensional travelers, the higher ups were positive they were keeping secrets. After all, it was only to be expected. Their ambassador had stated that human-pony relations were relatively new; the confirmation of at least six young pony children raised on Earth was evidence that their definition of "new" included at least a decade of interaction. That was logical since their leaders were rumored to be immortal, and, unlike the past emperors of China, they seemed to have the years to back up that claim.

Due to the uncertainties and unreliability of records, the children were to be the main focus of the scrutiny. After all, the ponies were allies of the wizards, people who had been proven to not be above changing physical records and memories to suit their purposes. The paperwork showing the long residence of the elder ponies was not only suspect; it was almost certainly a forgery. This deduction was supported by the fact that one group of ponies officially had no living relatives, despite their well-documented history.

As for the family that had children in his school, expert opinion was that it was the result of a mixed marriage. The mother was indisputably a pony, despite never showing her true form. After all, all three of her children were at least half pony. Furthermore, documentation on her first husband was sparse, to say the least. That and the fact that her parents were officially deceased pointed toward her being injected into human society rather than being a native.

The husband, on the other hand, was almost certainly human. His parents were still alive; in fact, they had recently moved into their son’s home. It was assumed they would be taking over the eldest child's bedroom since he would be away at boarding school for the majority of the year. The home would be small for the family, but manageable. There were already plans in place to obtain better-paying jobs for the parents and thoughts towards providing a larger residence, a task that would take time simply because the alternatives would reveal the government's involvement. Thus, a contest with a new house as the main prize was being arranged; the winners predetermined.

After a long bout of meetings in which he had primarily been an observer, the headmaster had headed home for a relaxing evening. The next day would come when it came. However, his wife had had other ideas. Several teachers from his school were her friends, and they had informed her that there were ponies attending. As soon as he had entered their home, his wife had started the interrogation, making the night pass at an antagonizing crawl. She had continued her questioning at the breakfast table, undeterred by the fact that she already knew everything he did.

It was almost a relief to arrive at the school the next day, a comfort that was quelled by the presence of the specialists awaiting his arrival. The teacher overseeing the youngest would have an assistant with more qualifications than he himself could claim. And what were they thinking, assigning a nutritionist to the cafeteria? At least the entire school population would be benefiting from that addition, even if no one liked alfalfa sprouts.

The headmaster had been anticipating an eventful day, but he had his expectations blown out of the water when the children of the hour finally arrived. They and their grandmother were promptly escorted into his office, and they had a new student with them.

“Good morning Headmaster . . .” the elderly woman said, trailing off on the last word.

The headmaster stared at the newest addition for a few seconds before shaking himself out of the trance and answering. “Smith,” he said, pointing at the nameplate on his desk. “Headmaster Smith. Good morning, Mrs. Thomas, Miss Thomas, and Miss Thomas, and who is our new friend here?”

“Licenta,” stated the curiosity.

“Good morning, Licenta,” the headmaster greeted, offering a genuine smile.

“Good morning,” said the strange child.

“How may I be of assistance today?” the headmaster asked, keeping his eyes on the newcomer.

“I’m here for Dean’s broom,” the old lady said. “Eva should not have taken it from his trunk, and she will not be flying it to school anymore.” There was a frown directed at the older Thomas girl. “Also, I believe Licenta is here to attend primary.”

“She is now?” asked the headmaster.

“You said all of our equine friends were welcome,” Eva pointedly said.

“So, I did,” agreed Headmaster Smith. Today was already proving to be more memorable than the day before.

It was a lazy winter morning. Nature, for the most part, slept soundly beneath a chilled white blanket. The only real activity was from the ponies. Mild cold did not stop them from going about their business, and despite the hour, there were a good number out and about. Many were planning on purchasing a tasty breakfast; Pinkie had recently introduced several new items to the menu, all featuring a secret ingredient. The only way to even have a chance at tasting the delights was to get there early, before they were all gone.

It was mute testimony to the general mindset of the townsponies when a fireball flared up in the middle of the street; the reaction was not a mass exodus peppered with terror. Rather, there was a uniform turning of heads to get a closer look. The scene had become so commonplace that there wasn’t even a single sigh of relief when the cause turned out to be a familiar bird of fire. It was who she had brought with her that garnered their undivided attention.

“Well helloooooo there.” Cherry Berry was the first to speak as she and several other mares rapidly trotted up to greet the stranger.

“Er . . . Hello,” said the slightly dazed muggle studies professor. “What just happened?”

“Traveling with Philomena is disorientating, so I hear,” said Taro Root. “Welcome to Ponyville.” She nudged a little closer.

“Um . . . Thank you,” said the human. “I wasn’t exactly planning on this visit.”

“Well, it’s a happy surprise then,” said Hallowed Candle. “You certainly are most welcome.”

“Are you male?” piped up Umber Shine, cutting through the small talk.

“I think he is,” said Cherry Berry. “He doesn’t have those bumps on his barrel like Applejack does when she’s human.”

“Rainbow Dash doesn’t have them either,” Umber Shine countered.

“Is that really saying much?” asked Banana Fluff.

“So,” Umber Shine directed at the human. “Are you male?”

“That’s what my mother tells me,” the human responded. “Does anyone know how I’m supposed to get back?”

A murmur rustled through the growing crowd and several mares inched closer.

“What’s the rush?” Lily Valley asked. “Wouldn’t you rather stay for breakfast? They have some new delights at Sugarcube Corner; my treat.”

“I’m afraid I already have plans for breakfast.” The human was starting to feel claustrophobic. “Besides, I don’t want to be late on the first day.”

“Pfft,” said Roseluck. “I’m sure there’s plenty of time, time best used to get to know each other.” She batted her eyelashes.

“Yes,” said Vanilla Cream hungrily. “You certainly look tastier than cake. Don’t you want to stick around? You should be able to do that.”

“I really must be going,” said the human, realizing that he was surrounded and wasn’t going to be able to run like the young man with messy black hair had suggested. Was the bird on his shoulder laughing? Birds don’t do that. Do they?

“But you just got here,” said Daisy. “I’m sure we could make it worth your while.”

“Er,” said the human. “I do have responsibilities to attend to.” That bird was definitely laughing.

“There’s a time for responsibility, and then there’s a time for fun,” said Banana Fluff. “I’d say now is the time for fun.”

“Did you bring pepper-up potions?” asked Umber Shine out of the blue. “I hear good things about pepper-up potions.”

“Um,” said the human. “Madam Pomfrey has forbidden their use for at least the next month.” The purple-haired girl hadn’t been joking; there were at least four unicorns in the crowd, not to mention the six pegasus mares hovering in closer.

“What a killjoy.” Ember Glow said with a pout. “I’m sure we could make do without, though.”

The bird fell off his shoulder and started rolling on the ground, holding her sides, all the while making peculiar squawking noises.

“Um,” said the muggle studies professor. “I really need to get going. I’m not dressed for this weather.” The sweat starting to bead on his forehead belied his implications.

“We can keep you warm,” offered Indigo Tinge. “There’s nice hot cocoa waiting at Sugarcube.” She blushed as the next words came out. “Not to mention the other ways of warming up.”

The bird was throwing off sparks as she rolled around.

“Maybe another time.” That had been the wrong response, judging by all of the ears perking up. “I really must be going now.” The human reached down and scooped up the bird.

“Is that a promise?” asked Vanilla Cream.

“You wouldn’t lie to us?” asked Taro Root. “That would be mean.”

“How does this thing work?” the muggle studies Professor gave the bird an experimental squeeze, resulting in more squawks and a few tears of laughter.

“Wait! Girls!” Cherry Berry exclaimed. “Remember, we have to ask. The mayor will be mad if we don’t, after that incident at the Rat’s Nest.”

“Oh right!”

“I forgot.”

“It would be a good idea.”

“We don’t want to poach.”

The human shook the bird, vigorously, trying to get the desired response.

“So,” asked Cherry Berry, “are you married?”

“Why yes,” the muggle studies professor lied, proving that he had two brain cells to rub together. “Yes, I am.” The briskness of his response verified that he well exceeded that minimum requirement.

The ball of flames behind the head table and the subsequent arrival of a professor drew cheers and applause from the muggle-born table and a few curious glances from the rest of the student body.

“That was quick,” Professor Vector said, looking over her shoulder as the phoenix launched herself from the man’s shoulder and glided over toward the Gryffindors’ table.

“There is entirely too much kidnapping of professors going on around here,” stated the muggle studies professor. “It needs to be put in the job description for all future hires.”

“So,” asked Professor Babbling, “are congratulations in order?”

“He wasn’t gone that long,” commented Berrytwist. “There wasn’t time for a bath or shower, let alone drying off afterwards.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Professor Goodman asked.

Berrytwist tapped a hoof on the side of her muzzle. “Humans have an abysmal sense of smell.”

“That’s how you knew!” Professor Marcy Weiss blurted.

“These ears aren’t just for show, either,” Berrytwist stated as she angled them toward the history professor.

“Knew what?” Professor Sprout asked.

“Um, me and Richard were having a discussion last night.” Marcy blushed. “She decided to join in despite the closed door.”

“That’s a new definition for the word 'discussion'.” Berrytwist smirked.

“Pay up!” commanded Trelawney.

“Wait!” said Professor Sprout. “Weren’t you banned?”

“This is from before that travesty.” Trelawney responded smugly.

Heavy gold coins slid across the table toward the divination professor, accompanied by much grumbling.

“Does she have any more outstanding bets?” Professor Goodman asked.

“Just that Minerva would hook up with a pony before the end of the term,” Professor Sprout noted.

“I keep telling you, I’m too old,” Professor McGonagall protested, looking up from her meal with wide eyes.

“It’s past time you moved on.” Trelawney shrugged.

“By the way,” Professor Flitwick said, addressing the new couple . . . ménage a trois . . . herd. “You were given the rest of the term to sort this out. Couldn’t you have waited at least a week?”

“Why wait?” asked Berrytwist. “Everypony else already saw something there that we missed.”

“You do know what this means?” Professor Vector asked. “You are aware of the consequences?”

“They weren’t exactly on the forefront of our minds at the time,” Marcy admitted.

“No regrets here,” added Professor Goodman.

“You say consequences; I say perks,” Berrytwist said, attacking her toast.

“Wait,” Professor Sprout said. “I thought you were still restricted to your pony form.”

“Human hands can remove the ring from around my horn,” Berrytwist said around a mouthful. “And another ring can be passed around.”

“The details can wait until after there aren’t children within earshot,” Professor McGonagall firmly said.

“Hello,” said the muggle studies professor. “I was just abducted against my will over here.”

“That’s old news,” said Professor Vector.

Fay was used to a lot of unusual sights; thus, when she entered her common room, the flying cake of soap wasn’t a surprise. The parrot frantically flapping its wings being chased by the beauty product was new, though.

“What’s with the bird?” Fay asked of the group watching the two do laps around the room.

“No idea,” said Angelina. “He just appeared, complaining about being blown off course, using some very colorful language.”

“Colorful language?” Fay queried.

Angelina narrowed her eyes slightly. “Do I look like I want to be Brown’s pet’s next target?”

“I need someone to cast reparo on my pocket.” Brown sighed. “Again.”

“Are you %$^%%$s going to $%%$@#$ help me?” demanded the fleeing bird.

“He seems rather intelligent,” Fay noted as another lap was completed.

“He can’t be that smart,” Patil noted. “He hasn’t stopped cursing yet.”

“I don’t $%&%#$% believe this!”

“See?” said Patil

“Does he have a peg leg?” Fay asked.

“And an eye patch.” Potter nodded his head.

“That’s almost too cliché to comment on,” Granger said.

“I better be getting a &#$%#@% cracker for this!” the parrot screamed. “Do you $%%#$# hear me? Polly wants a #$#@%$#$$# cracker!”

“You’re right,” Fay said. “He isn’t that smart after all.”

In an amazing show of dexterity, the bird gave her the bird, despite the obvious lack of required digits and the abysmal aerodynamics.

“That little bugger can move,” said Finnigan.

“The parrot or the soap?” Thomas asked.

“Yes,” replied Finnigan.

“This isn’t $%@$%#$ funny!” cried the bird, performing a sharp bank.

“I wonder how long he can keep this up,” commented Potter.

“I wonder if he’s got Tourette's,” mused Lovegood.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way,” countered Granger.

“Stop with the $@#%#$# commentary and get this ^#^#%# thing off my $@&*!”

“He does seem incapable of learning,” Fay said.

“I’d #@$# on your head if I wasn’t %$@$# busy!”

“He’s got to be tiring,” Fay noted. “How’d you say he got in again?”

“He just appeared,” Longbottom said.

“^%$@ me! I $#$%@@# forgot!” The parrot screamed before disappearing into an orthogonal dimension, followed closely by his pursuer.

“My soap!” Brown called out in alarm.

“Good $#$%@@# riddance,” said Angelina.

“But it’s so good at cleaning those hard to reach places.” Brown pouted.

“Really?” asked Alicia.

“Too much information,” added Angelina.

“And it doesn’t seem to be getting any smaller with use.” Brown nodded.

“Still, I don’t think its benefits outweigh its faults,” Said Angelina.

“Well, that was odd,” Fay said, before continuing on her way to the girls’ dorms.

The youngest Weasley said, "You should see Tuesdays in Ponyville."

Professor McGonagall sighed as she looked across her desk. “Miss Belle, I was under the impression I asked for you to come alone. I just have a few questions for you.”

“Actually, ma’am, the message we got was to not bring the entire herd.” Sweetie Belle lowered her head slightly in embarrassment. “That’s why I only brought Apple Bloom, Abagail, and Scootaloo.”

“Magah!” said the other occupant of the office.

“And Magah, of course,” finished Sweetie Belle.

“And where is Philomena?” asked Professor McGonagall.

“I sent her with Spike to get his new wand. We figured it would be a good idea for her to be out of the castle for a while after that incident this morning,” Sweetie Belle said.

“I can see the wisdom in that,” Professor McGonagall said. “However, I was hoping that you could shed some light on the owl I received a little while ago. It would seem that your phoenix flamed in, yanked several hairs from your sister’s tail before flaming out again. Would you care to enlighten me as to why Philomena might do this? Judging by the letter, your sister is quite miffed.”

“I have no idea why Philomena would have done that.” Sweetie Belle sweated, suddenly very glad that she wouldn’t be home for a few months.

Olivander looked down across the counter after ringing up the order. “Mr. Black, your custom order shall be finished in a week. Getting the curl out of the tail hairs will not be an issue. Are you positive I cannot interest you in a better suited temporary wand for the duration?”

The boy with green hair and the bird on his shoulder both looked back defiantly. “I don’t care if it is better suited. I am not using a wand filled with a dragon’s heart string.”

It was a wobbly pony who exited the school's infirmary. Whoever heard of warning magic that knocked you off your hooves for twenty-four hours? And there were supposed to be stronger dissuasions after that one. Whatever was behind that door could stay there as far as she was concerned -- with the sole exception of the stallion. She swore, if they were letting that other human beat on her ward again, she’d introduce them to her hooves.

“I see it was no mistake. You are on your hooves and awake.”

Startled that somepony had managed to sneak up on her, the bat pony looked up at the human standing before her. “Hello? Yes, I am awake. May I help you?” This human was one of the rare ones with a darker hide. The black and white striped mohawk she wore was worryingly familiar.

“Now is not the time to be charming.” The human frowned down at her. “I find your presence most alarming.”

“Alarming? Me?” The bat pony looked confused. “Oh, no, I wasn’t really hurt by that door yesterday. That’s no reason for you to worry.”

“My worry lies not with any mysterious door.” The human was still frowning. “My fear is your threat to our stallion, now and before.”

“Your stallion?” The bat pony’s ears laid back on her head when the realization struck. “You’re that zebra . . . Of course, you’re that zebra. Who else goes around rhyming all the time?”

“A zebra I am; nose, mane, and ear. The question is why are you over here?”

“I knew we were going to have this conversation sooner or later.” The bat pony looked up steadily. “But I have got to say, your timing is terrible. I just spent the night twitching constantly on a hospital bed. I don’t suppose you’d give a pony a break and come back tomorrow?”

“I say quite firmly; your request is one I find I must deny. Unless you want my wife here serving you up with ketchup on rye.”

“You do know, all that rhyming coupled with being human makes you hard to read.” The bat pony sighed. “I can’t tell if you are being facetious, threatening, or conversational.”

The zebra took a breath to answer, but the pony raised a hoof to stop her. “Look, I understand your point of view. We didn’t exactly get off to a good start. My coven and I covered some sky that is pretty much unforgivable.” She placed her hoof back on the ground. “Be that as it may, the elders sent me to keep your stallion safe. I am not to interfere with your relationship. I am not to force my way into your herd. I am not to raise my hoof against you in any way. I am to be a submissive little minion with only your herd’s safety as a goal.”

She sat down on her haunches to make the room more stable. “You have every right to be both wary and angry, but please understand how important your stallion and his offspring are to my people. There is little we wouldn’t give for an influx of new blood. Do you want one of our stallions as an addition to your herd? You can have one if you let two of our mares join as well. Do you want my blood for my transgressions against you? I’ll spill it for you myself. I am at your mercy. My race is at your mercy. We are desperate and you have us by the short hairs of our tails.”

“You come bearing promises and guilt. Before this barrage I will not wilt.”

“What do you want from us?”

“I’ve nothing up my sleeve. My wish is for you to leave.”

“I cannot do that.” The pony shook her head. “Even if you claim my life as payment, another will be sent in my stead.”

“There is no need to be morbid, your life we will not claim. Such a choice would result in a long and tiring shell game.” The frown did not leave the zebra-turned-human’s face. “You shall be given the chance to show your true worth. Tell me, do the princesses know you are on Earth?”

“Did you swallow a rhyming dictionary? I'm sorry, but the whole rhyming thing is more than a little impressive.”

“Enough with your attempts to deflect. Tell me was my assumption correct?”

The pony shrugged. “It’s not like anypony is guarding all those owls they have at the palace.”

The zebra-turned-human huffed and crossed her arms.

From the confines of her comfortably-furnished room, the unicorn mare realized it was pathetic how much she needed this job. While she was careful to live within her means, the seasonal nature of her work generally meant that at the end of each year, she had to scramble to ensure that she had a position at the beginning of the next. All it had taken to upend her world was one finicky noble family deciding that they were moving to one of their vacation homes for an indefinite period and opting for local labor. Fortunately, the termination clause had left her with enough money to live comfortably for another year.

Deprived of her duties, she had resigned herself to a solitary existence in a tiny apartment. Just as quickly as she had been plunged into the depths of depression, she had been rocketed to the heights of ecstasy. All it had taken was a recommendation from the school that had sent her to the palace with the promise of a new contract. She had smiled at the prospect of moving into the servants' quarters; there, she could count on the company of other ponies. Such highs and lows were all part of the life of a live-in tutor.

The palace had turned out to be a red herring of the highest order; it was nothing more than a rendezvous point. Once there, the pony she had been instructed to contact had stuffed her into an owl's pouch. She still could not fathom how she could have fit into something so small. She suspected it had something to do with the rumors concerning the spirit of chaos being a constant visitor. If he wasn’t involved somehow, she’d eat her hat. Though, considering her favorite hat was made of straw, a little hot sauce would convert it into a tasty snack.

The owl had transported her to a passably nice mansion to meet the strange creatures who would be her clients. Apparently, their daughter would be attending the school and had the ability to change between their bizarre forms and a proper unicorn foal. Granted, the foal was a striking golden color, but otherwise, she was undistinguishable from any child of high birth.

This was going to be an interesting assignment.

Where was she? She looked around, trying to get her bearings. That’s right; this was the palace.

How had she gotten here?

She stopped to think. She couldn’t remember. No . . . wait . . . it was the party.

Had she passed out drunk at the party?

Shouldn’t she have a hangover?

She didn’t feel right.

She didn’t feel anything.

There were a couple of custodian ponies over there. Why only two? Did they clean up after the party all by themselves? She’d have to ask.

“Hello,” she said when she was in range.

He didn’t appear to hear her, so she coughed and tried again.

“Hello? Excuse me?”

“Yes ma’am?” he said, looking up from where he had been scrubbing the floor. As soon as he saw her, his eyes went wide and his pupils shrank to pinpricks.

“I’m sort of lost,” she said.

“Ga . . . Ga . . . Ga . . .” was his reply.

“Well, maybe lost is the wrong word.”

“Ga . . . Ga . . . Ga . . .”

“Confused would be a better description.”

“Ga . . . Ga . . . Ga . . .” The stallion was shaking now. What was his problem?

“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice filled with worry.

It was at that point that his partner also looked up. “Rinse, what’s the matter with you. Answer the m . . .” It was his turn to stare. “Oh . . .” he whispered. “That’s what you were trying to say.”

“Ga . . . Ga . . . Ga . . .” sputtered the first stallion.

Without another word, the second stallion broke into a gallop, stopped, came back to grab his friend by his tail then proceeded to leave as fast as his legs would carry them.

Well, that was rude.

She had no idea how long she stood there staring after them.

“Ahem.” A voice came from behind her after a while.

Shaking her head, she turned to address the speaker, only to find herself muzzle to muzzle with the Princess of the Night. That was funny; wasn’t the princess supposed to be taller?

“Thou art an unexpected visitor,” said Princess Luna.

She shuffled her hooves, embarrassed by the scrutiny. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be here. I don’t mean to cause any problems.”

The princess blinked, as if surprised by her response. “Nonetheless, we must proclaim our overwhelming pride for thy actions. Know that our sister has decreed thy name synonymous with honor. Know that the colt lives because of you.”

It was her turn to blink in surprise. “Um, thank you?"

“Dost thou intend on gracing these halls with thy presence for the foreseeable future?”

“I’m not exactly sure what’s happening here,” she replied.

“We see,” said Princess Luna. “Be not rushed. Thou art most welcome. Thy deed hast earned thou all the hospitality we may offer.”

“Um, thank you?”

“Please excuse us; we must inform our sister.”

“Don’t let me keep you, your highness,” she said, otherwise at a loss for words.

The princess bowed and backed away.

The princess had bowed to her!

She clumsily returned the gesture.

What was going on here?

She was once more left confused as the princess retreated.

What was going on here?

She happened to look down and noticed she was flying.

She was flying?

She loved to fly.

A forgotten joy filled her being as she started to flit around the room.

Something lost had been found.

Something beloved, returned.

She was complete!

This is what it meant to be alive!

“TIA! WE HAST A GHOST!”

Chapter 7: That Familiar Dance

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Ozone hung heavily in the air in Canterlot Castle. Princess Celestia, Diarch of the Dawn, Alicorn of the Sun, Ruler of the Day was, by default, a morning pony. Some ponies might believe that the fictional Power Ponies had saved an impossible number of lives. Celestia's credits included an entire planet for more than a millennium. After all, without the cycle of day and night, almost everything would die. It was supposed to be her time to shine.

The dark, pre-dawn hour was the time that her day normally started. Despite her reputation for poise and grace, she could be caught off guard, especially before her first cup of coffee. The proof was in the state of her mane. Under ordinary circumstances, it was the stuff of legend -- beautiful, ethereal, and flowing. There were few hair styles that would not enhance her already exceptional grace. Dandelion was one of them. Somehow, her mane now shot out in all directions. All that was needed to complete the illusion was the addition of a red rubber ball on the end of her nose.

“I’m sorry,” said the transparent mare floating in front of her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Bwah?” said Princess Celestia. “Wha? Gha? Real? How?”

“I’ve been getting a lot of that lately,” commented the specter.

Princess Celestia shook her head. “And here, I thought Luna was yanking my tail when she woke me last night.”

“I’m sorry. Would you like me to leave?”

“Wha . . . No.” The Princess shook her head again, her mane refusing to take on its proper appearance. “I apologize; you caught me off guard.

I’m sorry,” said the ghost. “I was just wandering, lost in my thoughts. I didn’t mean to float through you like that. This is just so strange, and nopony wants to stay around to talk to me.”

“Ah,” said Princess Celestia. “I’m afraid they are going to take some time to get used to you. Angel Down, was it?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Well,” said the Princess of the Dawn, “as surprising as your presence is, you are welcome here.”

“Thank you, your highness.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I hear a nice warm roaring fire calling my name.”

“I understand.”

The stench of failure perfumed the passenger compartment of the decrepit government sedan. Janice had been down that road before far too many times. Her bad day had gotten worse. She hadn't had a good day since . . . since the accident. If she were an optimist, she would have said that the whole world was against her. She knew better; the whole of miserable reality was conspiring against her. She had no one who was on her side -- no friends, no family, no one. She was alone.

The incident at her previous home hadn't been her fault. To those fostering, that didn't matter; they'd labeled her a troublemaker from the start. That made her a convenient scapegoat. After all, no one would believe her.

No one cared.

She was alone.

The familiar routine of being shuffled around hardly fazed the seven-year-old girl, even though this time, her stay in limbo had been surprisingly short. It hadn’t taken a full day before a new home had been found for her. She would be the first resident of a new facility.

She wondered how long that would last.

No one really cared.

She had long since learned to keep the tears inside.

The drive had transpired in silence. It hadn’t been too long before they had arrived at an ancient building.

It was another orphanage.

“The Love Farm” according to the sign overhanging the entrance gate.

They were going to abandon her there.

Typical.

The matron actually met the car in the drive as it pulled up. A wide smile of greeting spread across the woman’s face, framed by a wreath of lovely auburn hair. Janice was jealous; her own hair was a stringy black mess.

No one had bothered to teach her how to properly take care of it.

She was alone.

The matron didn’t wait for Janice to open the door herself. With surprising enthusiasm, the woman yanked open the obstacle and reached down to pull Janice into a hug, somehow unlatching the seatbelt in one smooth motion.

Janice merely squeaked as she found her face buried in the envied hair. This was not new. This was a distant memory, almost lost, yet always cherished.

The woman who held her let out a shuddering breath. “I could feel your pain from a mile away. Leave it behind. It will not be needed here.”

Confusion flowed through Janice’s body, even as she sank into the curiously warm embrace. Where was the expected stern taskmistress? Could this one actually care?

“We are so ecstatic to have you,” the woman continued. “I’m sure you’ll be happy here. The only thing we really want from you is your love.”

Confusion fled, replaced by hope.

Janice had found her Home.

In an unremarkable hallway in Hogwarts, a group of boys stood around and waited as they had been instructed.

“Why are we just standing here?” asked Ralph.

“Because Diamond Tiara told us to,” Spike said matter-of-factly.

“Why are we listening to her?” was Ralph’s next question.

Spike sighed and looked at Draco. “I’m still not helping you with her.”

“Then why are you hanging out with us?” Draco countered.

“Because I’m not suicidal enough to hang out with the Crusaders,” Spike answered.

“So,” Ralph ventured, “is this one of those herds they were talking about?”

“No!” snapped Draco and Spike simultaneously.

“Are you sure?” Ralph asked.

“Just don’t sign anything Diamond Tiara asks you to,” Spike said.

“She’s going to ask?” Ralph raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t sign anything Diamond Tiara tells you to.” Draco corrected as Vincent and Gregory grunted their agreement.

“Words to live by,” Spike commented.

Without warning, a door opened and Diamond Tiara stuck her head out. “Get in here,” she commanded.

“That’s a girl’s loo.” Draco protested.

“Get in here!” Diamond Tiara repeated, disappearing back into the room.

“She really doesn’t know how to ask for anything,” Ralph said as he followed after the rest of the boys.

“Woah!” Draco cried out. “What’s that?”

“It’s a hole,” Diamond Tiara said flatly.

“Um,” said Spike. “Where’s Silver Spoon?”

“In the hole,” Diamond Tiara stated.

“Oh,” Ralph said. “And Daphne?”

“In the hole.” Diamond Tiara stated.

“And Pansy?” Ralph asked.

Diamond Tiara gave him a dirty look.

“Right.” Ralph relented. “In the hole.”

“They fell,” Diamond Tiara said.

“Do we even know what this is?” Spike asked. “It could be an interdimensional wormhole.”

“Or a gateway to Hell,” Ralph added.

“Don’t be daft,” Draco said. “That’s a pipe, by the looks of it, a sewer pipe.”

“I’ll bet the girls are wishing it were a gateway to Hell instead,” Ralph mused.

“I suppose we should go down and see if they’re okay,” Spike said.

“Do we look like Gryffindors?” Draco asked.

“We can’t just leave them down there,” Ralph objected.

“I just saw the Gryffindors were right down the hall,” Gregory offered.

“Well, go get them,” Diamond Tiara said, frowning as the large boy rushed out of the loo.

“Isn’t it stereotyping to expect our classmates to jump in a hole just because they are Gryffindors?” Ralph asked, keeping two steps away from the edge.

“Yes,” said Spike.

“Doesn’t mean we’re wrong though,” Diamond Tiara added. “So,” she said, looking at Draco while nodding her chin at Spike. “Ravenclaw?”

“I was thinking Hufflepuff myself,” Draco said, still peering in the hole.

“He is loyal,” Diamond Tiara agreed.

“I am standing right here, you know.” Spike complained.

“So you are,” Draco said. Spike glared at him for a full minute before the door to the loo reopened.

“What cha want?” Apple Bloom demanded as she stomped in leading her herd.

“Hello,” Diamond Tiara said. “We’ve had a bit of an accident. A hole appeared under the sink, and Silver and the girls fell in. We were wondering . . .”

“Cutie Mark Crusader Rescuers!”

“Scootaloo, wait!” Harry called out.

“Does anyone know the cushioning charm?” asked Hermione. following in unicorn form.

“Let those of us with wings go first!” cried Parvati as she transfigured and went into a power dive.

“Don’t worry, we’ll save them!” Dean declared.

“I’ve been practicing that spell since the whole greenhouse debacle.” Ginny called out as she went, her horn already glowing.

“Bloody hell.” Neville stated as he moved.

“Wheeee!” said Luna.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” Abigail joined her

“And I just lost my soap.” Lavender complained as she jumped.

“Don’t whine so much!” Ron leapt as he transfigured.

“Wait here, Magah.” Sweetie Belle ordered.

“Gwaaaaaah!”

“Or don’t,” Seamus followed.

“Don’t ya worry none; we’ll git your friends.” With those words, a red bow followed the yellow filly down the hole.

“Next time, at least let me finish speaking first!” Diamond Tiara called out after them.

“Well, you weren’t wrong,” Ralph admitted.

“We probably should get a teacher,” Spike said.

“You’re right,” Diamond Tiara said with a nod. “Hufflepuff.”

“That was AWESOME!” Rainbow Dash called out as she bounced out of the minecart.

“It wasn’t that bad last time.” Twilight groaned.

“She sits in the back on the way up,” the goblin guide gargled.

“Fine by me,” Rainbow chirped. “Just go faster.”

“One speed only.” The goblin groaned.

Sirius snorted. “I’m positive that took a third of the time the last trip took.”

“That was fun,” Pinkie said, lifting a reflex camera in her hands. “And I got pictures. You have got to love moving pictures.”

“Because everypony wants to see us screaming silently,” Twilight said.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Rainbow retorted. “Why are we here again?”

“I wanted to show you your allowance vaults,” Sirius said, trying to pry himself out of Twilight’s grasp.

“Allowance?” Rainbow asked. “We’re not fillies, you know.”

“True,” Sirius said. “But you are ladies of the House Black. Certain things are expected. Besides, I’m going to need help spending the Black fortune.”

Rainbow stared at Sirius in horror for a few seconds before wailing. “Sweet Celestia! I’m a kept mare!”

Professor McGonagall stormed into the lavatory; a scowl plainly visible on her face. “What are you boys doing in here? This is a girl’s . . . good lord, what’s that?”

“It’s a hole,” Diamond Tiara stated.

Professor McGonagall looked around in horror. “Where’s Miss Spoon?”

“In the hole,” Diamond Tiara said.

“Miss Parkinson?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“In the hole,” Diamond Tiara said.

“Ditto on Daphne and the Gryffindors.” Ralph spoke up, drawing the attention of everyone in the restroom. “What?” he asked. “We’ve already been over this, and I wanted to move things along.”

“Right then,” Professor McGonagall said, stepping over the ledge and disappearing.

“Did she just?” Spike asked in disbelief.

“Well, she is the Head of Gryffindor House.” Draco stated.

Diamond Tiara turned to Vincent and spoke. “Go get Professor Flitwick; he’s a Ravenclaw.”

Princesses Celestia and Luna were walking down the palace hallway in search of their prey. After rounding a corner, they stopped to look at the three pegasi clinging to the ceiling, eyes and wings spread wide open. There was also a small potted tree shaking suspiciously up against a wall, possibly due to the earth pony maid attempting to hide in its branches.

“'Twould appear she hast passed this way,” Princess Luna commented to her sister.

Princess Celestia just sighed. “You get the guard stuck in the vent; I’ll pry the other one out of the waste bin.”

“What’s the emergency?” Professor Flitwick asked as he and Professor Babbling rushed into the girl’s lavatory following Vincent. “Mr. Crabbe was quite insistent that we come with him imme . . . My word, what’s that?”

“It’s a hole!” Ralph blurted. “The girls are in the hole. The Gryffindors are in the hole. Even Professor McGonagall is in the bloody hole!”

“Don’t mind him; he’s impatient,” Draco said.

“I see,” Professor Babbling said. “Mind your language Mr. Godfrey.”

“But . . . but . . .” Ralph sputtered. “Isn’t anyone going to take this gaping hole seriously?”

“There are all sorts of secret passageways in the castle,” Professor Flitwick stated. “This one just appears to be on the filthy side. Professor McGonagall is more than capable of handling anything it might throw her way.”

At that point, Dean flew out of the hole, lazily flapping his wings. “Hey, Diamond Tiara, come on down. There’s a big door down here that Hermione thinks you might be able to open since you are the Slytherin Primus and all.”

“I think not.” Diamond Tiara said dryly. “I like my robes clean.”

“Use the laundry,” Dean said, swooping behind her and giving a good shove.

“Eeeeeeeeeeee!” came the cry from the hole.

“Was that necessary?” Professor Flitwick asked, leaning over to get a better look.

“The slide is actually rather fun. Plus, Professor McGonagall has set up a cushioning charm at the bottom,” Dean said, changing back into human form before following Diamond Tiara.

“So . . .” Ralph turned to Spike. “Into the hole?” He jerked his head in the direction of the orifice.

“Into the hole.” Spike nodded, taking a step forward.

The Princesses entered the servants' dormitory and took in all the overturned furniture before focusing on the lone maid standing amidst the disturbance.

“Hello,” Princess Celestia greeted cheerfully, “what happened here?”

“Hello princesses.” The maid curtseyed nervously. “Sorry for the mess, but everypony ran away, and they weren’t looking where they were going.”

“We assume the ghost passed through here.” Princess Luna stated unnecessarily.

“Yes,” the maid replied. “She was certainly a sight to behold.”

Princess Celestia studied the maid. “You’re new,” she commented.

“Yes, your highness.” The maid curtseyed again for good measure.

“Perchance, would the town of Ponyville be thy home of origin?” Princess Luna eyed the maid in turn.

“Why, yes.” The maid blushed. “I’ve always wanted to move to the big city. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Princess Celestia answered for her sister.

“We’ve been thinking.” Princess Luna said. “Maybe we should construct a training hall there to better prepare our troops. We are thinking a mandatory three-month tour for all the house guards.”

“The bellyaching does not suit you sister.” Princess Celestia snorted. “Now, hurry and get that guard out of the fountain, I think he’s forgot he needs to breath.”

“It shall be done.” Princess Luna said. “but, pray tell, why do they think they can fit in the air ducts?”

“Never fear.” Princess Celestia said. “That is why we stopped in the kitchens.” She floated a tub of shortening in her magic as she trotted towards the room’s aforementioned air duct.

Filthy Rich opened the door to his mansion. Randolph, the butler, had informed him that there was a mare waiting and not taking "no" for an answer. To his surprise, he found a familiar, orange, hat-wearing pony on the other side.

“Hello, Applejack,” he said, smiling at the family friend. “What seems to be the problem?”

The mare wasted no time in explaining the issue. “Y'all should have gotten Diamond Tiara a puffskein,” she said.

Filthy Rich sighed deeply before asking, “How bad is it?”

“Yer going ta want ta sit on the lawn for this,” Applejack replied. "It'll be easier to get the stains out."

“Thank you for coming so swiftly, my faithful student.” Princess Celestia said as the travelers picked themselves up off the ground after debarking the owl's pouch.

“We came just as soon as we got your letter,” Twilight declared. “It sounded urgent.”

“We would not call it urgent,” Princess Luna replied. “Tis merely a vexing and unfamiliar situation. Thy council would be greatly appreciated.”

“Of course.” Twilight stood tall and puffed out her chest. “We’re happy to help.”

“There you are.” A new individual entered the conversation, eschewing the door and floating through a conveniently placed wall instead. “I heard you were looking for me.”

“Oh,” Rainbow Dash looked at the newcomer. “You got yourself a ghost. When did you get a ghost?” She said this with the exact same inflection one would expect when hearing the phrase. “You got yourself a chihuahua. When did you get a chihuahua?”

“Hello.” Pinkie waved. “My name is Pinkie Pie. We haven’t met, so I don’t know your name, and friends should know each other’s names, and I want to be your friend. Would you like to be my friend? I’ve never had a pony ghost friend before. Though I’ve met several human ghosts who said they’ll be my friend. I’m sure you’d like them, and you could do all kinds of ghost things with them once you meet them and become friends, which would be good. Don’t you think?”

“I am so pranking Andi for giving her a pepper-up potion,” Rainbow Dash grumbled.

“That was several days ago,” Twilight said placatingly. “I’m sure it has worn off by now.”

“I am failing to see your point,” Rainbow said.

Princess Luna looked back and forth between the ghost and the quibbling ponies before saying, “Never shall we cease to be amazed at the ability of ponies to become desensitized.”

“Did I come at a bad time?” asked the ghost, eyeing Pinkie suspiciously.

“Not at all,” said Princess Celestia. “In fact, we were about to discuss the resurrection of a ghost earlier this year, an act that my student here had a hoof in. I was hoping that the feat could be repeated.”

That’s a possibility.” Twilight rubbed her chin. “The first thing to consider would be the condition of her body at the time of death.”

“That could pose a problem.” Princess Celestia grimaced.

“How so?” Twilight asked. “Pinkie, quit poking your hoof through . . . I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”

“It’s tingly and chilly,” Pinkie commented.

“Angel Down,” said the ghost. “My name is Angel Down.”

“Thy mutilation was quite pronounced,” Princess Luna said, turning to address the ghost. “Thy remains were removed not with a stretcher but with a scraper.”

“Luna,” Princess Celestia said with a warning note.

“Several squeegees were employed.”

“That will be enough.” Princess Celestia said.

“As were a number of mops.” Princess Luna finished.

“Now you’re just being morbid,” Princess Celestia scolded.

“The need for it to be said was evident,” Princess Luna stated.

“I think we are getting a little ahead of ourselves here,” Twilight interjected. “Though the sample pool is admittedly small, I expect the resurrection would return her to a body similar to that displayed by her current form. I’d worry more if she appeared as a formless floating mass.”

“Or like a squished bug.”

“Rainbow!”

“What? I couldn’t let Princess Luna have all of the fun.”

“So, I’d come back exactly like I look now?” Angel Down asked, unperturbed by Rainbow Dash.

“That’s most likely correct.” Twilight beamed.

Angel Down looked over her shoulder and examined herself. “As in, missing a wing?”

“Er . . .” Twilight admitted, “most likely.”

“No thanks,” Angel Down said. “I’m good.”

“You’d rather remain dead?” Twilight gasped.

“I can fly like this,” Angel Down said.

“But, you’re dead,” Twilight countered.

“I can fly like this,” Angel Down repeated.

“But . . .” Twilight sounded like she was talking to an idiot. “. . . you are dead.”

“I can fly.” Angel Down returned the tone.

“You are dead . . .” Twilight pressed. “. . . as in no heartbeat.”

“You’re pushing up daises,” Pinkie helpfully added. “Well, you will be in the spring. There aren’t too many daises growing now with all that snow on the ground.”

“I can fly,” Angel Down repeated.

“You’d rather be dead than ground bound?” Twilight asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Angel Down said.

“I’m going to have to agree with her.”

“Rainbow Dash,” Twilight growled. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m helping her,” Rainbow pointed at the ghost. “It's a pegasus thing; you wouldn’t understand.”

“At least not until you get some wings of your own.” Princess Celestia nodded sagely.

“Foreshadowing achieved,” Pinkie jumped up and down excitedly. “Blatant, but achieved.”

“How is my helping Angel Down foreshadowing?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“WHAT THE BUCK WAS THAT!?”

Somepony might have taken note of the mayor’s uncharacteristic use of language if they hadn’t been preoccupied by the fact that the earth pony was currently doing an impression of a pegasus, hanging upside down from a protruding porch awning in the front of a haberdashery, two stories above the street. They would also have to overlook the reason for that position was that her hooves had gone through that protrusion and the splintered wood was painfully preventing both her fall and her easy extraction.

“That there was Ponyville’s newest resident pet,” Applejack said, looking up to address the hanging mare.

“THAT WAS A PET?!” Mayor Mare screeched. “I THOUGHT WE GOT SCOOTALOO A HARMLESS PUFFBALL FOR A PET!”

“This one belongs to Diamond Tiara.” Applejack shrugged.

“BUT SHE’S NOT A CRUSADER!”

“Doesn’t appear to matter.” Applejack said.

“We have got to get Dinky a puffskein.” Cherry Berry said as she pulled herself out of the snow drift she had flung herself into. “That’s a situational irony waiting to happen that I’d really rather avoid if at all possible. Thank you very much”

“I don’t think she could top THAT!” Taro Root pointed a shaky hoof down the road.

“I swear,” growled Banana Fluff. “If you just pulled a Twilight, you’re going to be the second mare to do a thousand-year stint on the moon.”

“Take a note.” Mayor Mare called down to her assistant. “Immediately procure a puffskein each for Dinky, Rumble, Silver Spoon, Lily Longsocks, Berryshine and Button Mash. Throw in Princess Clouded Hope just to be safe.”

“That’s not going to work,” Applejack said.

“Why not?” Berry Punch demanded.

“They won’t let the foals keep them at the school. Twilight had to go get the ones already there.” Applejack said.

“So, you’re saying that Scootaloo is currently without a pet?” asked Hallowed Candle.

“Eeyup.”

“You know,” said Vanilla Cream, “just because you are Knight Elemental Honesty, instead of, say, Knight Elemental Tact, doesn’t mean you have to keep the two concepts mutually exclusive.”

“Thar ain’t no reason ta beat around the bush,” Applejack said.

“I think you all are overlooking the obvious problem,” Cherry Berry said as she shook herself off.

“How is a giant snake slithering through the town not the obvious problem?” Taro Root snapped.

“You do realize that Fluttershy has unrestricted access to the world the foals are getting their pets from, don’t you?” asked Cherry Berry.

Mayor Mare wet herself at the very concept. That act would not normally have caused any hardship, barring the embarrassment involved; however, she was inverted at the time.

“Bye now!” Fluttershy waved a merry hoof at the retreating ponies she had just helped. “Please remember to take good care of Mrs. Beaver now!”

Alice looked down at her pony companion. “That’s what, your fifteenth adoption of the day?”

“Yes.” Fluttershy nodded happily. “Everypony is opening their hearts and homes to all of my cute critters. It’s wonderful.”

Alice cocked an ear. “Just so you know, I can hear our man laughing for some reason.”

“Let’s go keep him company.” Fluttershy suggested with a sly smile.

“Scootaloo,” Harry called out. “Hedwig is back again.”

“What?” Scootaloo asked. “Again?”

“Are you sure it isn’t your birthday?” Parvati asked.

“I think I’d know it if it were my birthday,” Scootaloo said reaching into Hedwig’s pouch and retrieving a wrapped present, bearing a bow and a tag with her name on it.

“This one has air holes too,” Luna noted.

“Don’t shake this one,” Seamus advised.

“I learned that lesson.” Scootaloo pouted.

“Don’t be like that,” Sweetie Belle scolded. “Hurry up and open it, I want to see what it is.”

“Hold your horses.” Scootaloo smirked.

“Ah wish y'all would stop saying that,” Apple Bloom said. “It don’t sound right at t’all.”

“I can get away with it here,” Scootaloo said, sticking out her tongue.

“Open the box.” Dean commanded. He had a rough-legged hawk perched on his arm and was stroking the bird’s chest feathers.

“Okay, okay,” Scootaloo said, lifting the lid and looking in. “It’s a koala,” she called out to the crowded common room. “Does anyone want a koala.”

“He’s cute,” Angelina said, looking over the smaller girl’s shoulder. “I’ll take him.”

“Be my guest,” Scootaloo said., passing the box over. “I’m still holding out for a vampire bat.”

“Why?” Katie asked. “You’ve got Luna and Abagail”

“Because vampire bats are cool,” Scootaloo answered. “I’m going to get mine a little fez to wear.”

“If you say so,” Terisa said. “Lee! Your beaver is eating the table!”

“Beavers don’t eat wood,” Hermione corrected. “They just gnaw on it.”

“The net result is the same,” Terisa said.

The portal opened, and Fay walked in.

“Why is it starting to look like a zoo in here?”

Chapter 8: Not the Mmm.. err Adventure

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The subterranean passageway would have been impossible without magic to augment its structure. Magically lit torches were arrayed at regular intervals at differing heights. Looking up, one could see the high, vaulted ceiling with protuberances that swallowed sound. Looking down, one could see two piles. The larger was massive, consisting of the skeletons and remains of vermin and forever lost pets. Judging from the size, it had begun when the passage had first been excavated, centuries ago. It reeked of death and decay, serving as a counterpoint to the scent of methane that suffused the chamber.

The second pile was far smaller, far newer, and far more active. Four girls lay in a jumbled heap and demonstrated that their vocabulary included words that would probably have dismayed their mothers. It would only be a slight exaggeration to say that they were flushed with excitement.

"What sort of wanker puts the entrance to a secret passage in the middle of the bloody floor?" Tracey Davis complained angrily.

“It is rather ingenious, if you stop to think about it,” Silver Spoon said. “I mean, no one expects the entire floor to open up."

“Get off me!” Pansy Parkinson demanded. “Something is seeping through my robes, and I really don’t want to know what it is.”

“Before I open my eyes, please tell me there isn’t any cake,” Daphne said.

“What is with you and cake lately?” Pansy growled. “Inside jokes are just that, as well as annoying.”

“The cake is not a lie,” Silver Spoon said. “And thankfully, there is none here.”

“I don’t think any cake would be caught dead down here,” Tracey said.

“Who cares what you think?” Pansy started to push the other girls off her. “Just keep your opinions in the background where they belong, you half breed.”

“I’m not a background character,” Tracey growled. “Don’t make me pound that nose of yours flat. Oh, wait, it’s already there.”

“Next question.” Daphne broke in. “Are there any ferocious plants?”

“Nope, no ferocious plants,” Pansy said. “Though the only thing that would survive down here would-be devil’s snare.”

“Or killer mushrooms.” Silver Spoon added.

“No cake or cranky plants.” Daphne finally opened her eyes. “All’s good.”

“Cranky plants?” Pansy asked. “Just what happened to you during the break? There isn’t any reason to be afraid of plants.”

“Remind me to introduce you to Albert,” Daphne said.

“Albert?” Silver Spoon asked.

“Something the Gryffindors got for their greenhouse,” Daphne replied.

“There isn’t any reason to be afraid of plants?” Tracey quoted Pansy’s previous comment. “Are we going to the same school? Have you not been paying attention in Herbology?”

“I told you to keep your trap shut,” Pansy snarled.

“Since you know plants aren’t dangerous, there is a willow tree out front that you should go hug,” Tracey countered

“Will you two stop bickering?” Daphne snapped. “Just shut up and look for a way out of here.”

“Well, we aren’t getting out the way we got in,” Silver Spoon said, eyeing the slide they had just descended. “You have got to wonder about the design choices of the ones who made that.”

“It must have been Gryffindor,” Pansy stated. “Slytherin would have been too dignified to make anything of the like.”

“I don’t care who made it,” Silver Spoon said. “I just hope it exits somewhere near the common room; I’m so going to take a bath when we get out of here.”

“Pity we only have showers,” Pansy complained.

“Diamond and I have bathtubs in our trunks,” Silver replied.

“And you’re not sharing?” asked Pansy. “Something like that sho . . ."

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by a banshee wail that drew everyone's attention to the streak of orange that flashed past the ceiling. A gust of wind drew their attention back toward the slide in time for them to see a streak of blue that passed just over their heads.

"Oof!" exclaimed Pansy when a speeding fluorescent orange bundle caught her in the midriff.

"It's pony bludgers!" Tracey exclaimed as another blue blur pulled up in front of her face, barely missing her head as it flashed by. She turned back to the sound of something unfurling, only to catch a fuchsia blur squarely in the chest. A second later, something red impaled her robes in a place that made her grateful that she was a girl, not a boy.

Circling back, Scootaloo declared, "We found you!" With a hint of disappointment, she continued. "Four girls, zero monsters -- that was too easy."

“Look out!” Neville screamed.

Daphne had already hit the ground; so, she managed to avoid a collision with the two batponies who scissored across overhead.

“Perfect landing!” Lavender declared with a solid thump that could be felt throughout the chamber.

“I landed in a puddle,” Ron complained, shaking himself.

“Eww! Ron, stop that, I’ve got enough grime on me as it is,” Sweetie complained.

“Bad!” Magah added.

“That was fun,” Seamus opined.

“Get off me, you pervert!” Pansy screamed.

“Is everypony okay?” Apple Bloom demanded.

“I was until I got hit by two ponies,” Tracey said.

“Tracey? What are you doing down here?” Abagail asked. “They didn’t say anything about you.”

“Ha!” Pansy said. “Just like I said; she’s nobody. No one even bothers to mention her.”

“Lavender, it’s time ta see if’n we can get out the way we came; throw Pansy up the slide and see how far you can git.”

“What? No! Wait! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“I don’t think I managed even half way.” Lavender frowned.

Pansy returned a few seconds later, sporting a few new bruises. “I’ll be good,” she quickly said.

“I thought you told her not to throw people,” Daphne grumbled, picking herself off the ground.

“Ah told her not to throw colts,” Apple Bloom corrected. “Pansy ain’t no colt. ‘Sides, this’ll teach her ta mind her manners.”

“There’s something wrong with that mindset,” Tracey noted.

“Guys, keep it down,” Hermione said. “It looks like it would only take a good sneeze or two to bring the ceiling down on our heads.”

“The tunnel looks more stable further down,” Luna offered.

“Y'all heard her,” Apple Bloom said. “Head fer safer ground.”

“Bad!” Magah screamed as she picked up Sweetie Belle and tried to toss the filly up the slide. The effort was a lot less successful than Lavender’s.

“Magah! What the hay!” Sweetie cried out as she reconnected with the ground.

“Bad! Bad! Bad!” said Magah.

“Four legs!” Sweetie snapped.

“Bad!” Magah pointed down the tunnel.

“Four Legs!” Sweetie growled. “NOW!”

Magah complied, standing there shaking with the whites of her eyes clearly visible.

“I’m not liking the sound of that,” Tracey said.

“Well, we can’t go back'” Lavender said. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from whatever it is that is scaring her.”

“Shouldn’t we be worried about anything that scares a unicorn?” Pansy looked nervously down the tunnel.

“Nah,” Scootaloo said. “Most of them won’t even enter the Everfree Forest.”

“We’re wasting time,” Dean said. “Guys up front.”

“Okay,” said Harry as he landed in the position indicated, only to be joined by Neville, Seamus, Ron, and, finally, Dean.

“Y’all got that wrong.” Apple Bloom jumped in front of them. “Me an’ Lavender will go first, followed by Ginny, Sweetie Belle and Hermione. Abigail, Parvati, Scootaloo an’ Luna will protect the sides an’ the Slytherins will be in tha back. You colts git in tha middle.”

“What?” Ron said. “Are you daft? We’re going up front.”

“Ah don’t think so.” Apple Bloom growled. “Y'all be in tha middle where you’re safest.”

“I’ve been waiting for this argument,” Hermione said. “It was inevitable.”

“What do you mean?” Scootaloo asked as Apple Bloom and Ron went muzzle to muzzle to squabble at each other.

“Haven’t you been watching the telly?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Men protect their women the same way we protect our stallions. Hermione’s right; it was only a matter of time before this happened.”

“That’s stupid,” Scootaloo said. “There are more of us than them.”

“Humans have a near fifty-fifty ratio between males and females,” Hermione said. “This leads to a different dynamic than what you’re used to. Where your ancestors went out of their way to safeguard their stallions, ours did stupid things to attract the attention of their women. The resulting attitudes are in direct opposition to each other.”

“This really is stupid,” Parvati said. “I’m no damsel in distress.”

“Which is one reason why Apple Bloom is going to win eventually.” Hermione nodded. “Twilight and I have already had this conversation. Remember, they have a lot more sapient races. Neither interspecies relations nor conflicting gender-based danger protocols are new to them. It’s the main reason why griffins vehemently don’t do herds.”

“How long did you and Twilight go over this?” Luna asked.

“We spent the afternoon on the topic,” Hermione said. “Mrs. Tonks was there too. Twilight has gathered all the pertinent books on the subject and now is waiting on a blowout argument between Rainbow Dash and Sirius.”

“And Pinkie?” Parvati asked.

“Predicting Pinkie is wasted effort,” Scootaloo said.

“I don’t care how this argument pans out,” Seamus said. “I’m not cowering in the middle.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean said. “Ron’ll set her straight.”

“I’d prefer it if you colts were safe,” Sweetie stated with a hint of worry.

“We’ll make ourselves safe right after we’re sure you girls are,” Harry said.

“You really do have this backwards,” Scootaloo said.

“At least Draco knows his place,” Silver Spoon said. “He’s not going to put himself in any unnecessary danger.”

“You’re in for a nasty surprise when he puts himself into harm’s way to protect you,” Tracey said.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Silver Spoon insisted.

“He may be a git at times,” Pansy said. “but he’s not a big enough of one not to see to your safety before his own.”

“He’d better not do that,” Silver Spoon said. “How could you approve of such behavior?”

“I thought you’d appreciate the human female perspective.” Pansy shrugged.

“Should we stop them?” Abigail nodded at the still-squabbling Ron and Apple Bloom.

“Twilight told me to let them blow off steam when this happens,” Hermione said. “She said that Ron is the most volatile of the boys, and I shouldn’t interfere unless either Harry or Neville are the ones with raised hackles. That’s when things would be getting serious.”

“Pony politics are pretty powerfully perturbing,” Tracey said.

“Speaking of,” Daphne said. “Why are you all in pony form?”

“We’re more resistant to damage this way,” Luna said.

“Duh,” added Dean.

“Good point,” Daphne said, shrinking to her own pony form.

Silver Spoon merely looked at her for a second before doing the same.

The two remaining human girls shared a look before Tracey said, “How is that fair?”

“We’re now the biggest targets.” Pansy paled.

Harry sighed and shifted to his human form. “Here,” he said, taking off his ring and handing it to Tracey. “I don’t need this to change anymore. You can borrow it.”

“Thank you,” Tracey said, donning the ring before shrinking down into a fluorescent green unicorn filly.

“Looks like we’ve got another glower,” Seamus commented.

“Welcome to the club,” Hermione grumbled.

“I’m sure I don’t like the name ‘glower’,” Tracey said, studying her hoof. “We’ve got to come up with something better.”

“Target?” Seamus suggested.

“I like that one even less,” Hermione answered.

“Merlin,” Parvati said, “you’re worse than Hermione. Looking directly at you will give people migraines.”

“Not to pester or anything,” Pansy said. “but aren’t you forgetting somethiiiiiin . . .” She cut off to duck as Ron passed through the space her head had previously occupied.

“Apple Bloom!” Lavender barked. “No throwing colts!”

“This is important,” Apple Bloom grumbled as she trotted over to the downed colt. “’Sides, Ah only tossed him lightly.”

“And that’s reason number two why she’s going to win this argument,” Hermione noted.

“You need to work on your numbering system,” Silver Spoon drawled. “I’d say that was reason number one.”

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted . . .” Pansy stood to her full height again. “I need to be a pony, too,” she demanded.

Neville sighed and turned human. “Here you go,” he said, holding out his own ring.

“Thank you, Longbottom,” Pansy said, putting on the ring. “Earth ponies have the best protections? Right? How do I make sure that’s what I’ll be?”

“You’ll get what you get,” Seamus said.

“Apple Bloom! Get off my tail!”

“You know, I think Ron has been getting the brunt of the whole gender bias thing,” Ginny said. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m his sister.”

“No Ron bashing,” Parvati called out.

“Ah’m trying ta keep him safe, not hurt him,” Apple Bloom said around Ron’s tail.

“Yeah,” Pansy said. “I want earth pony strength.” With those words, she shrank.

“Missed the mark there.” Dean was the first to speak.

“Shut up, pink boy,” Pansy snapped.

“Fuchsia!”

“Haven’t you gotten past the denial stage yet?” Seamus asked.

“You’re going to love sleeping on the ceiling.” Luna looked down at Pansy from her spot on the ceiling of the tunnel.

“It is strangely comfortable,” Abagail agreed.

“I don’t have to suck anyone’s blood like this?” Pansy asked, studying her dark purple hoof.

“The only ones in danger from you are innocent mangos,” Hermione said.

“Mmmm, mangos,” said Luna.

“Sweet, juicy mangos.” Abagail nodded, upside down, which really is irrelevant as far as nods are concerned.

‘I’d like to point out that anyone hiding a mango in their bag is also in danger,” Dean commented. “Trust me, firsthand experience.”

“That was cruel.” Luna glowered.

“I was planning on eating it later,” Dean countered.

“Sharing is better.” Abagail shrugged, still upside down.

“Someone’s coming,” Ginny said, pointing her ears at the slide. As one, the rest of the foals did the same.

They watched the woman speed off the slide only to slow down instantaneously, somehow landing on her feet and walking forward steadily while flicking her wand to remove the filth that had collected on her robes.

“How’d she do that?” Silver Spoon asked enviously.

“Miss Bloom, whatever are you doing to Mr. Weasley?” Professor McGonagall demanded.

“Ptuu! Establishing dominance ma’am.”

Professor McGonagall sighed. “That will be enough of that. Now, is everyone present?”

“Yes ma’am.” Chorused the foals while Magah whinnied.

Professor McGonagall focused on the new neon green foal. “Miss Parkinson? I see you have decided to emulate your classmates.”

“I’m Tracey, Professor,” said the luminous filly.

“Totally forgettable, isn’t she.” Pansy said triumphantly.

“Ironically, she’s not going to be able to fade into the background like that,” Silver Spoon said, “unlike you.”

“That will be enough of that as well,” Professor McGonagall said sternly. “Now, I need everyone to stay as still and silent as possible. I don’t like the looks of this passage; so, I will be stabilizing it.”

Despite the cold, two people stood on the road leading to the ancient estate and looked at the sign hanging above the gate.

The large man growled and wordlessly pointed at the object of interest.

“What?” asked the small, brown-haired woman.

The man drew back his hand and sharply slapped the side of the woman's head, knocking her to the ground. “You were supposed to make a sign that had the name of the orphanage on it,” he gruffly criticized.

“I did,” whimpered the woman as she crab-walked away from the larger human “Isn’t that what everyling is calling it?”

The man sighed and placed his face in his huge hand, muttering to himself.

“Well, that answers that.” Silver Spoon looked at the large door. “This is Slytherin’s work; the snake theme pretty much gives it away.”

“It does not respond to any of my spells,” Professor McGonagall stated. “We’re going to have to go back up the slide. I’ll send Professor Flitwick a message to send some brooms down.

“Just a minute, Professor.” Hermione was also studying the door. “I’ll bet Diamond Tiara could open this. In fact, she’s probably the reason the passage opened in the first place. She is the Slytherin Primus, after all.”

“Well thought out Miss Granger. One point to Gryffindor for your astute observation.”

“Dean, you want to go get her?” Hermione asked.

“Sure, on my way.” Dean swooped back the way they had come.

“Y'all should have sent Parvati.” Apple Bloom said disapprovingly.

“I understand why you think that way,” Hermione noted, “which is why I need to play mediator. Besides, he shouldn’t be in any danger.”

“Ah’m going ta have ta teach you a few things,” Apple Bloom replied.

“We both have things to learn,” Hermione said. “And compromises need to be made. I won’t let the boys shelter me at the same time I recognize the folly of sheltering them.”

“It ain’t right.” Apple Bloom scowled.

“Not for ponies it isn’t,” Hermione replied, “but our herd is a mix of human and pony. If we do this right, no one is going to be happy with the compromises. However, everyone will be happier in the end.”

“Stop sounding so reasonable like,” Apple Bloom ordered.

“Sorry, Apple Bloom.” Hermione bit her lower lip. “Even with Twilight telling me what to expect, I am finding this difficult. I can’t imagine how you feel about it, either. I’m terrified of alienating either you or the boys if I do this wrong.”

“We’ll work it out, somehow.” Sweetie broke in. “You need to stop thinking that you have to bear the burden yourself. We are a herd, after all,” she said to Hermione. “I would have thought you learned after getting your cutie mark.” Then, turning to her bow-bearing friend she said, “It’ll be hard, but you are going to have to learn to treat the colts more like fillies.”

“Ah don’t like it.” Apple Bloom huffed.

“I wonder when Professor McGonagall is going to remember we can just call Philomena and flame out of here,” Luna said off-handedly.

“Luna, where did that come from?” Hermione demanded.

“I was just wondering,” stated Luna.

“Couldn’t you see that we were having an important discussion?” Sweetie asked.

“I just thought you’d want to save it until we didn’t have an audience.” Luna pointed a wing at the Slytherins watching them with interest.

‘Ooooh,” said Hermione as Apple Bloom and Sweetie looked at the other fillies with big eyes.

“Don’t mind us,” said Silver Spoon. “We were learning, too. Diamond’s going to want to lay down the law after she hears about this.”

“Wait,” Pansy blurted, “are you saying we didn’t have to trudge down that disgusting tunnel after all? We could have just called your bird?”

“Just out of curiosity,” Tracey added. “Why aren’t you including the boys in this discussion?”

“Don’t look at us,” Seamus said. “My da told me that when girls start arguing with each other, don’t butt in unless nails and teeth start flying.”

“Your dad told you that too?” Dean asked.

“So, did mine,” admitted a sullen Ron.

“I was just following their lead.” Harry shrugged. “I figured we’d lay down the law after we got back to the trunk.”

“An’ what law would that be?” Apple Bloom asked dangerously.

“That we won’t be hiding in the middle while you girls put yourselves in danger.” Harry said sharply, “In your own words, ‘That ain’t gonna happen.’”

“Does this count as Harry getting his hackles up?” asked Abagail.

“Not quite,” Parvati said,“but we are headed in that direction if we aren’t careful.”

“Children,” Professor McGonagall said, “now is not the time. This is a conversation you do have to work out for yourselves, but now is most definitely not the time. More importantly, it is my job to see that you do not face any dangers where you might feel that you must sacrifice one of yourselves. You are just children, after all.”

“But they are being unreasonable.” Apple Bloom pouted.

“Miss Bloom, it is policy for professors to stay out of relationship issues. However, I am at liberty to say that compromises, as Miss Granger has mentioned, are nearly always the best choice.” Professor McGonagall sighed. “I’d also like to note that I should not be having a conversation even remotely like this with first-years.”

“But . . .” said Apple Bloom.

Professor McGonagall raised a hand to stop her. “I suggest you wait until you are all sitting and enjoying a nice, calming tea, before continuing this line of discussion.”

“Yes ma’am.” Apple Bloom’s ears drooped.

“I also suggest you have a substantial stock of throw pillows handy as well.” The professor concluded. “You are not getting through that conversation without tempers flaring.”

Peter Pettigrew lay on his back, idly twiddling his thumbs.

How much time had passed?

Was time even passing?

Was this the lamest cut scene ever?

“I’m just saying we should be checking for secret doors as we go.” Ralph’s voice trickled down the passageway to the group waiting before the door.

“We are in a secret passage to begin with,” Draco said. “A secret door would be superfluous.”

“Which is exactly why we should be looking for them,” Spike explained. “We don’t want to miss out on any treasure.”

“We are not on an adventure,” Draco scoffed. “We are just exploring one of the castle’s many less-known passageways.”

Ignoring the conversation of the colts, Diamond Tiara stomped up to Apple Bloom and snapped. “Did you tell him to push me into the hole?”

Apple Bloom blinked at her while Professors Flitwick and Babbling went over to talk to McGonagall. “Nah. He was just supposed ta go get ya.”

“Just so you know then,” Diamond Tiara said. “I owe him one.”

“Keep it within reason.” Apple Bloom sighed.

It was Diamond Tiara’s turn to blink. “I was expecting more push back than that.”

“Hermione's been telling me that we can’t treat our colts tha same way we would back home.” Apple Bloom gritted her teeth. “Call this mah first go at compromise.”

“Hey!” Dean said. “I didn’t do anything bad to you, just gave you a nudge.”

Diamond Tiara looked at Dean then back to Apple Bloom. “I’ll keep it tame.”

“Ah’d appreciate that,” Apple Bloom said.

“I don’t think he was being malicious,” Hermione added.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Diamond Tiara acknowledged, “but he is going to learn not to push fillies down filth-covered pipes.”

“I think you goofed,” Ron told Dean.

“Now would be a good time to remember how to apologize.” Ginny suggested.

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” Dean replied.

“She doesn’t seem to think so,” Abagail said. “You might not have meant anything by it, but trust me; she’s way too prissy not to be upset.”

“What does prissy mean?” Scootaloo asked.

“Fussy about her appearance,” answered Sweetie Belle.

“Something you could learn from,” Silver Spoon told Scootaloo.”

“All right, all right,” Dean caved. “Diamond, I am sorry I got you dirty.”

“He can be taught manners,” Diamond Tiara noted. “Apology accepted.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief.

“Just don’t think that’s going to get you out of your punishment.”

Dean winced.

Ralph started to open his mouth to say something, but Spike elbowed him in the side. “You’re not a member of either herd,” Spike whispered to him. “Don’t get involved.”

“I’m confused.” Parvati said. “Shouldn’t we stand up for Dean more?

“We are allied with the Diamond herd,” Sweetie said. “As long as nothing drastic is done, we’re good. Diamond Tiara isn’t going to cross any lines. Notice how she let Apple Bloom know there was a problem first?”

“What’s unusual is her allowing Diamond some deecreetionol pay back.” Scootaloo said. “If Dean were a normal colt, she’d punish him herself.”

“Discretional,” Hermione and Sweetie chorused.

“I repeat,” Tracey said. “Pony politics are pretty powerfully perturbing.”

“You’re proud of that phrase aren’t you.” Pansy sneered.

“Positively.” Tracey smirked.

“Having humans in the mix makes it worse,” Silver Spoon said. “I was sure that Apple Bloom would have acknowledge the debt and taken Diamond’s reprisal herself, shielding her colt. If I hadn’t been here for the earlier conversation, I’d be worried about her right to claim to be alpha mare.”

“You know, we need a crash course in what’s going on here,” Seamus said. “I get that Dean did something he shouldn’t have, but the rest seems too Slytherin for my tastes.”

“It has a lot to do with Diamond being so prissy.” Scootaloo said. “If he had pushed me or Silver, we wouldn’t be talking about it.”

“You were just waiting to use that word, weren’t you?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know.” Said Luna. “I think Silver is more prissy than Diamond.”

“She’s not the alpha mare of her herd,” Sweetie explained. “Diamond’s due certain respect as the head of our allied herd. Likewise, she has certain responsibilities towards the members of our herd. If you have a problem and Apple Bloom isn’t available, she’ll do her best to help.”

“What I’m hearing is that being allied herds is serious business,” Harry said.

“Very,” Apple Bloom said. “An’ Ah’d appreciate it if y'all would think before antagonizing them. Treat 'em like you'd treat each other. Treat Diamond Tiara like y'all would treat me."”

“Sounds like you owe Apple Bloom an apology, too,” Neville told Dean.

Dean didn’t bother to mull over the statement. “Apple Bloom, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, he can definitely be taught.” Diamond Tiara smirked. “I may need to forgo my first thoughts of pay back.”

“Which were?” Pansy asked.

“Making him wear a bikini and parading him through the school,” said Diamond.

Dean looked in shock at Diamond before turning a pleading gaze toward Apple Bloom.

“As amusing as that would have been,” Professor McGonagall said, “we are done examining the door. Miss Tiara, if you would be so kind as to attempt to open it, please?”

“Yes professor.” Diamond stepped up to examine the door, noting all of the snake motifs covering the portal. “What should I do exactly?”

“Let the door know you are the Primus of Slytherin and command it to open,” Professor Babbling instructed. “It has runes to detect the identity of whomever addresses it. If it doesn’t respond to your claim, we will be leaving and making our way back. Professor McGonagall informs us that Miss Belle’s companion could transport us all.”

“Yes ma’am,” Diamond said, focusing on the door. “Ahem! I am Diamond Tiara, Primus of Slytherin, and I demand that you open.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the stone snakes began slithering across the door and the sounds of a locking mechanism could be heard engaging.

“That worked,” Hermione said. “I hope we just found Salazar Slytherin’s personal study.”

“Anything to get at rare books, huh?” Abagail asked as she watched the door begin to open by splitting down the middle and the two sides swinging inwards.

Diamond snorted, “Remember, whatever we find I get first dieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

A sharp hiss drowned out the scream. Students and professors alike stared, stunned.

After a moment, Ralph craned his head back to take in the two large yellow eyes glaring back from the darkness. He whispered to Spike, who was standing next to him. “D-d-does this c-c-count as an adventure y-y-yet?”

Chapter 9: Predictable Tête-à-Tête

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Busily laboring away in the workshop in the back of her tidy store, Mystic Book was in a good mood. In fact, she was just short of being ecstatic, despite the workload that occupied not only every available trace of surface area on her benchtop but also a large bucket set in a corner. She needed to replace her entire stock of Class D TEIF crystals, and each crystal required precision selection, grinding, and polishing. The season had been inordinately profitable, so much so that she had sent home a letter that she never had imagined she would be writing. She could finally offer her favorite niece the apprenticeship they had both craved.

She had been filled with joy when her niece had arrived late last night. It had taken only a few sentences over breakfast before the filly was ready to pony the counter, freeing Mystic to start on her list of backlogged chores. With any luck, the windfall she had received was a harbinger of increased business. If nothing else, the patronage of the princesses themselves had brought her shop a cachet that no number of bits could buy.

“Tata!” Crystal Cache, her niece, called from out front. “Un oiseau . . . a bird . . . it has just appear et land on the counter.”

“Is it an owl?” Mystic Book called back, still focusing on the crystal she was modifying.

“C'est quoi owl?” Crystal Cache’s voice asked.

“Une chouette,” Mystic Book answered.

“Oui, cela veux dire une chouette.”

“Speak like une local,” Mystic chastised.

“It is owl,” Crystal Cache called out.

“Is she wearing a pouch on her breast?” asked Mystic.

“Oui!”

“What?” called back Mystic. “Could you repeat that?”

“Oui . . . Yes! The bird does wear pouch.”

“Place your horn on the pouch and speak ‘Ex Dimittere’.” Mystic started to arrange the crystal she was working on so that she could safely leave it in its unfinished state.

“T'es pas sérieuse? Elle a le bec bien acéré,” Crystal Cache objected.

“Which language do you speak?” Mystic chided.

“I said, its beak is sharp. So too are its claws,” Crystal Cache called.

“It will not hurt you,” Mystic Book replied. “Do as I say.” She quickly approached a safe stopping point as she wondered if her niece would be able to follow the instructions.

The call of the hurler filled the showroom.

“Yyyyyyyiiiiieeeeeeeeee!”

Yes, her niece could apparently follow instructions, Mystic mused. “Crystal! Do not scream at un customers!”

“C'est un customer?” Crystal’s voice was a higher pitch than normal.

“Yes, I will be with you in a few seconds.”

“Dépêche toi s'il te plait!”

Mystic sighed as she exited the back room. A smile claimed her muzzle when she was greeted with the sight of a familiar human. “Welcome to Enchantment Essentials. Welcome back.”

The human, Mrs. Brown, smiled in return. “Hello. I seem to have startled your help. I am so very sorry for that.”

“Non!” Mystic trotted forward to stand beside a trembling Crystal Cache. “The fault is not yours. My niece has not yet met a human such as yourself.”

“Your niece?” asked the human with a raised eyebrow.

“Oui, she has arrive just this previous night. Long has she wanted to follow me to the city, Canterlot. She will be a great help with all of the new work I have been getting,” Mystic Book said. “But that is not why you are here. How may we help you?”

“The items I bought before have made my job easier. A quicker turnaround has increased my customer base,” Mrs. Brown said. “I’m here for more supplies. I’d also like to browse your wares for more inspiration.

“I am contente to hear that you are satisfaite with my goods,” Mystic Book said.

“I am so happy that Lavender found your store,” Mrs. Brown said. “I don’t suppose you offer a catalog of your inventory?”

“Non,” Mystic shook her head. “I am afraid I have no such thing to offer.”

“Pity,” said Mrs. Brown. “I suppose owl orders would be out of the question as well.”

“Owl order?” Mystic Book asked. “The birds, they deliver merchandise like they deliver humans?”

“Yes, most of the businesses where I come from do a fair amount of their custom through owls. Of course, you’d have to learn the shrinking charm for it to be practical.”

“I am intriguée. How would I learn this spell and how does one acquire an owl?” Mystic Book perked up.

The human gave her an appraising look. “The spell isn’t that hard; I’d be happy to teach it to you. A quick trip to Diagon Alley is all it would take to get an owl or two.” She tilted her head in thought. “I can also enchant you a catalog book. Wouldn’t even be much of a chore. It’s a common commission in my line of work, and I’m willing to offer a discount since I would be benefitting from the automatically updating pamphlets it would produce.”

“Ow many bits are we talking?”

“It’s a twenty-galleon piece of work.” Mrs. Brown looked toward the ceiling as she thought. “Not an insignificant amount by any standard, but it will last your lifetime as well as that of your children. Hmmm, I have everything I need at home to make you one so there wouldn’t be any out of pocket for me.”

"Combien vaut un Galleon?" Mystic Book asked.

“Huh?” Mrs. Brown looked down at the pony.

“Ow many bits to a galleon?” Mystic clarified.

“Oh.” Mrs. Brown started searching her robe pockets for a slip of parchment. "I have that written down here, somewhere." As she looked, she added. “I would be willing to accept store credit as payment. On top of that I’d be willing to take you to the alley to get your birds. Just add the purchase price for a couple of owls to that credit and we can avoid the hassle of converting monies.”

“That sounds, how do you say, too good to be true,” Mystic Book said as she looked at the slip of parchment the human held out to her.

“It is hardly altruistic on my part,” Mrs. Brown said. “I see it as a smart investment; saving me critical time in the future. To be honest, it would almost be worth it just to give you the book free and clear. Being able to send my owl to pick up a part when I’m in the middle of a difficult project could literally save me more than the initial cost.”

Mystic Book felt Crystal Cache prodding her flank with a hoof. “Tata. Une chouette."

“It seems my niece likes the idea of getting an owl.” Mystic Book said.

“Non,” Crystal said, “je veux dire another owl has appeared. Comment font-elles cela?”

“Oui, we will accept your offer.” Mystic looked over her withers to see that another pouch-bearing owl had indeed arrived. “Crystal, please see to our new arrival.”

“You won’t regret your decision,” Mrs. Brown said as the younger unicorn placed her horn on the second owl’s pouch. “Like I said, we will both profit from this.”

Once more, the horrid sound of retching filled the shop.

“I hope you are correct,” Mystic Book said. “Owever, good business decisions always carry some risk.”

“Welcome to Enchantment Essentials,” Crystal told the human who popped out of the second pouch.

“I’ll go browse now and let you see to your other customer,” Mrs. Brown said, walking away from the counter.

“Oui, thank you.” Mystic Book waved a friendly hoof.

“It’s good to see you are standing without any problems,” said the voice of a human stallion.

Mystic Book blushed as she turned toward the newcomer. “That was not my finest hour. Je suis désolé. You should not have seen me in such a . . . What are you doing to my niece?”

The human male blinked in surprise before looking down and seeing that he had been scratching behind the younger unicorn’s ear. “Oh, sorry,” he said, snatching his hand away. “I have a dog; I’m afraid I did that purely on reflex. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Non!” Crystal cried out. “Ça faisait du bien! Don’t stop!”

“Be a good filly, Crystal.” Mystic Book said. “Do not pester the stallion.”

“Je ne suis pas une pouliche.” Crystal pouted.

A red tinge marked the human stallion’s cheeks as he spoke. “Ah . . . yes . . . well . . . The Minister has been informed that the writ of payment for the crystals we procured has never been redeemed. He sent me to make sure you receive your money for the transaction and to make sure there are no hard feelings.”

“Your diligence is apprécié,” Mystic Book said. “Owever, you need not worry, the crown has seen my money pouch filled. You owe me nothing.”

The human stallion blinked. “You got your galleons?”

“Oui, Raven Inkwell from the palace saw to it.” Mystic Book tilted her head with a small smirk. “You are accoutumer my niece, again.”

“Huh?” the human stallion looked down at his treacherous hand before snatching it away again. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“Aww!” complained Crystal. “Tu dois essayer ça, ma tante.”

“Well, um, the second reason I’m here is to purchase more muggle-stuff protection crystals. There are several projects that we need them for.”

“I am sorry. I have only prepared about fifteen Class D TEIF. Though I do have more of the other sizes.” Mystic Book watched as her niece used her muzzle to nudge the hand the human had returned to his waist.

“That’s fine,” the human stallion said. “We are looking to maintain some bigger fields of influence. What’s the largest you have available?”

“The biggest I have on hoof can cover a large house.” Mystic Book smiled. “Given some time, I can provide a product with even greater range. I would need to order the base crystal, though.”

“How big are we talking?”

“As much as I would love the profit,” Mystic said, “at a certain point it is cheaper and more efficient to use multiple crystals. Larger isn’t always better.”

“Mmmmm,” purred Crystal.

“You’re the expert,” the human stallion said. “I’ll take whatever you have on hand.”

“Funny, you should mention hands.” Mrs. Brown said, coming back up to the counter.

“What?” asked the stallion, puzzled, before looking down. Once again, he snatched his hand away.

“Aww!” said Crystal.

“She is doing that on purpose.” Mystic Book said.

After the hiss from the darkness had faded, eyes had adjusted enough to the gloom to perceive that there was a face behind the glowing, golden orbs. Whatever everyone's response had been to the initial shock had been abruptly halted. An uncomfortable silence prevailed as everyone’s base instincts told them not to move or draw attention to themselves. Thus, it was a good half minute before Spike spoke. “Sheesh,” he declared, “it’s only a dragon. I was scared there for a second.” He buffed his claws on his robes confidently. “I got this.” With those words, he strode forward with purpose.

In response to his forward motion, a menacing hiss preceded the owner of the large yellow eyes as it slithered out of the shadows into full view.

“That’s not a dragon!” Spike exclaimed, backpedaling frantically. “That is not a dragon! That’s definitely not a dragon!”

“This is just great,” Ralph said. “My dying thought is going to be that I never dreamed of a situation where those words would be delivered in a panicked voice.”

“Now is not the time,” Silver Spoon squeaked.

“I don’t think there will be any time later,” Ralph retorted.

The huge snake hissed again. A voice behind Professor Babbling said, "He's just a baby dragon, after all."

The snake towered over the professor and looked down. Diamond Tiara squeaked at the sudden, unwanted attention. Silently, she chastised herself for drawing the monster closer.

A loud hiss pushed her mane into her eyes.

“Me?” Diamond Tiara said in a raspy tone. “I’m the primus.”

Slowly, the snake lowered its head, stopping a mere foot away from Professor Babbling's head. Another hiss escaped from it.

“Speak clearly?” Diamond squeaked. “I can't help that I'm a little hoarse. How can I not be scared? You’re a giant talking snake. If I survive this, I’ve found new fuel for my nightmares.”

The snake leaned back, its head raising as it did so. Yet another hiss was heard.

“I don’t think you can put me at ease,” Diamond said. “Like I said, you’re a giant talking snake.”

The snake turned its head to direct its gaze at the Gryffindors. It hissed yet again.

Diamond also looked at the Gryffindors, taking in their vertical achievement. “They do that when they’re scared. Once again, giant talking snake.”

Professor Babbling took her wand off the threat long enough to point it at herself and murmur, “Scourgify.”

The snake hissed again.

“I have no idea how they keep their balance.” Diamond said, swapping forms and standing as a human. “I think it has something to do with the way they stick their wings out. Though that might just be to make themselves look bigger.”

“Yer not helping,” Apple Bloom said from the bottom of the stack.

“Draco, stop standing in front of me. Get behind me!” Silver Spoon demanded.

“Told you,” Pansy said.

“Children, be quiet and let Miss Tiara parley.” Professor McGonagall’s wand never left the snake.

“What does parley mean?”

“Miss Aloo!”

“Right, shutting up.” Scootaloo complied.

The snake hissed again.

“You could try being smaller,” Diamond said. “A lot smaller.”

The snake hissed again.

“Couldn’t hurt asking,” Diamond said, still hiding behind Professor Babbling.

The snake hissed once more.

“It was an accident. A hole just appeared in the floor of the bathroom and we just kind of wound up here,” Diamond said. “We’re sorry to disturb you. We can be going if you like.”

The snake hissed.

“Waiting for me?” Diamond shuddered. “I’m just fur and bone. The professors are all much bigger.”

Another hiss.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.” Diamond sighed in relief. “Why don’t you talk to Professor McGonagall instead? She’s an adult.”

“Hisssss.”

“She can’t? Then why can I?” Diamond questioned.

“Hisssss.”

“Really?” Diamond took her wand out of her wrist-mounted holster and looked at it critically. “Are you sure?”

“Hisssssssss. Hissss Hisss.”

“It is so unfair that Sweetie Belle and Hermione can’t understand you. They might have comprehended that.” Diamond pouted. “Or one of the professors, for that matter.”

In the gloom no one could see the look of nonchalance on the blue pegasus.

“Hisss.”

“Only half a year.”

“Hissss.”

“Great, more studying.” Diamond Tiara was starting to lose some of her initial fear only to have it replaced by another dread.

“Hisss.”

“How long have you been waiting?” Diamond asked.

“Hiss.”

“Really? All by yourself?”

“Hissss hissss. Hissss. Hisssss.”

“That’s awful.”

“Hisssss hisss. Hisss. Hisssss.”

“You don’t say.”

“Hisss Hisss. Hissss.”

“You poor thing.”

“Hisss. Hisss hisss.”

“No! I wouldn’t make you do anything like that!”

“How is it possible to be so scared and so bored at the same time?” blurted Ralph.

“Mr. Godfrey!” said Professor McGonagall.

“Sorry professor. I’ll be quiet.”

“Hisss. Hisss.”

“No, he’s not mine, at least not yet.” Diamond shrugged. “He didn’t mean to be rude by interrupting.”

“Hisss.”

“What do you mean ‘not yet’?!”

“Mr. Godfrey!”

“Hisss.”

“Yeah,” said Diamond Tiara. “Just to be clear, there are no threats to the school or students. All ponies and humans are off the menu.”

“Hisssss.”

“No, I don’t have a problem with you eating spiders.”

“Hiss.”

“Let’s go with the same rule of hoof human use. If it can talk or beg for its life, it’s off the menu.”

“Hissss.”

“Sure, with the exception of spiders.”

“Hey!” Sweetie broke in. “Where’s Magah?”

“She showed some horse sense and ran for it,” Tracey said. The green pony was no longer glowing. Instead, the spot where she was standing was deep in shadows that somehow defied the torch light.

“Hisss.”

“Yeah,” said Diamond Tiara.

“Hiss Hisssss.”

“Mmmmm hmmm,” said Diamond Tiara.

“Miss Tiara, please ask him what kind of snake he is.” Professor Flitwick spoke up for the first time.

“Hisss?”

“He wants me to ask you what kind of snake you are,” Diamond Tiara said.

“Hissss.”

“A basilisk? Sorry, can’t say I’ve heard of your kind before.”

“Hissss.”

“A basilisk!” Professor McGonagall’s voice was tight. “How are we all not dead?”

“Relax, ma’am,” Diamond Tiara said. “He says he’s here to protect the school population. In fact, he’s really upset that the last speaker to talk to him forced him to put students at risk.”

“Hisssss.”

“I don’t know if he’ll be coming back,” Diamond admitted.

“You misunderstand, Miss Tiara,” Professor Flitwick said. “The gaze of a basilisk is supposed to be lethal.”

“Really?” Diamond asked.

“Hisss.”

“He says that your gaze is supposed to be lethal,” Diamond relayed.

“Hissss.”

“Yes, it would be rather silly if you couldn’t control that. It would make having a conversation rather difficult,” Diamond conceded.

“Woah!”

“Look out!”

“Eek!”

Diamond Tiara turned around in time to see Magah retreating with Seamus and Parvati hanging from her mouth by their tails. A pile of Gryffindors now graced the floor.

“Hissss.”

“Mmmm hmmm,” said Diamond. “Ignore them.”

“Hisss.”

“No.” Diamond shook her head. “Why, don’t we get back to your story?”

“Hisss Hissss Hisss. Hissss.”

“She’s doing it again,” said Harry.

“Magah, stop it!” commanded Sweetie Belle. “Oooof!”

“Magah, come back here with them!” added Hermione.

“Hissss.”

“Like I said, ‘ignore them’,” Diamond said. “Please continue.”

“Hisss Hissss Hissss Hisss.”

“Oh!” Diamond gasped “Oh my!”

“I just realized I have echolocation,” Abagail commented.

“Really?” said Luna. “Teach me.

“Girls, focus,” said Lavender.

“Hissss Hisss Hissss.”

“You don’t say,” Diamond prompted.

“Magah! Stop it!”

“Hisss Hisss.”

“I can see your point.” Diamond nodded.

“I can’t believe we are having a conversation with Slytherin’s monster,” Professor Babbling said.

“I can’t believe we aren’t all dead yet,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I can’t believe no one can keep their mouths shut,” Spike added.

“He’s not a monster,” Diamond objected. “He’s just misunderstood.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Fluttershy,” Scootaloo accused. “Whoops! Magah! Bad unicorn!”

“Hissss.”

“Yes, sorry,” said Diamond.

“Hissss.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” Diamond waved a dismissive hoof. “I’ll just send you home until we can be sure he doesn’t come back. That way, we don’t need to test whose commands take precedence.”

“Hissss.”

“No, he’s not going to find you there. It’s in a different dimension.” Diamond said. “You’ll be fine. Just ask for Fluttershy.”

“Magah! Really! That’s enough!”

Applejack gave a frustrated huff. An idle mind was Grogar's playground, and the tedious chores now gave her too much time to think. Eons of evolution had made ponies natural worriers; those who were not generally fell victim to some foreseeable misfortune. Applejack was from a long line of survivors, and consequently, she had a lot to worry about.

Her contact with the human world had been a mixed blessing. On the positive side, many of her former worries had been successfully resolved. Apple Bloom had insisted on paying off the massive loan the Apples had taken to recover from the last parasprite infestation, keeping the family farm out of the hands of the bankers. The tide had turned in the losing battle to save for Granny's hip replacement when Andi Tonks had taken up the case pro bono. The human witch had vanished the arthritic joint before giving the elderly mare a horrible-tasting potion to grow a new one. The prospect of having no descendants to carry on the family line had been diminished by Applejack's unexpected marriage.

New worries had replaced the old faster than a Sonic Rainboom, and they all focused on her new stallion, her husband. Who would have thought that she would end up in a herd with Zecora? Who would have thought that they would have landed a thestral? Who would have thought that they would be in the crosshairs of an entire race of ponies?

Everything had been going too well to be true. Of course, as soon as she had thought that, they had received news that their stallion was in the hospital. They had almost lost their stallion before finishing their honeymoon. A talk with Twilight was in order, despite there being no way that she could have known that her machine would have caused so much damage. Luckily, the danger had passed before Applejack had been made aware of it.

Now, if only she didn’t need to worry about the mare who was apparently stalking him. Even with Zecora being on site to watch over him, it wasn’t a pleasant situation.

Grumbling to herself, Applejack tossed a bag of feed onto one of the storage shelves. Winter should have been a time to relax; however, the foals had a greenhouse that needed tending. With the children off at school, the work fell to her. On the bright side, herbs that would normally not be available until spring were now growing nicely inside the building. Zecora would have the ingredients she needed for the potion that the human ministry was breathing down the zebra’s neck to produce.

“Groooowwwwwllll!” came the complaint from behind the farmpony.

‘Quiet, Albert.” Applejack scolded. “Ah’ve already given y'all yer food. Yer not getting any more right now.”

“Growl!”

“An’ quit yer pouting. Ah ain’t falling fer it.” It felt sort of wrong to deny a hungry individual seconds, but Sandy had warned that over feeding would result in an unwanted growth spurt. Albert was enough of a hoofful as it was.

Applejack was in the process of picking up a watering can when a burst of flames warmed the greenhouse, announcing Philomena's arrival. The panicked look on the bird was a bad omen and, when Philomena started urgently squawking and pointing with both wings, Applejack concluded that it was time to put her worries on the backburner.

“Calm down; calm down. Is somepony hurt?” Applejack gave the bird her undivided attention. “Is somepony in danger?”

Not being able to talk, Philomena stuck out a leg, displaying the scroll attached to it.

“It’s only been a couple days.” Applejack reached for the scroll with trepidation. “They couldn’t have gotten into that much trouble.”

Philomena’s look clearly said, “You can’t possibly believe that.”

Applejack sighed and retrieved the scroll. She spat it onto a table to read. Looking back at the bird, she said. “A pet fer Diamond Tiara? Why didn’t ya’ll take it directly to Filthy Rich?”

Philomena let out a small chirp.

“Ah wish Fluttershy were here,” Applejack grumbled. “Well, whatever it is, it can’t be scarier than Fluffy.”

Philomena chirped again.

“Did y'all just say ‘you wish’?” Applejack directed a worried look at the bird.

Philomena nodded.

Applejack sighed.

Mr. and Mrs. Thomas were having a worrisome day. After coming home and learning about their daughters' friend, they had asked Eva to use the floo to contact the Ministry. After experiencing typical bureaucracy and being passed around for a good hour, they were put in contact with someone who could help. The wizard had given them a funny look before committing to talking to the centaur herd immediately.

It had been another two hours before he had gotten back to them. The news was not at all what they were expecting, though. The centaurs did not want the little filly back. They had said something about her being divested of destiny and thus a threat of some kind. Their wizard contact had then shrugged and informed the Thomas adults that they were now the proud guardians of a centaur filly. Before they could recover from the shock of the declaration, he had retreated back through the floo, leaving the family with their new guest.

This had led to a family dinner that required special accommodations for their new charge. To compensate for her inability to sit in a chair, Mr. Thomas had dragged the family room’s coffee table over for her to stand on, allowing her to reach her plate on the dining table.

The frustration of dealing with bureaucracy and the worry of unexpected parenthood had been offset by the joy exuded by the girls. After school, the three children had spent the afternoon playing together and getting to know each other better.

“Well,” said Grandpa Thomas to the centaur filly. “it looks like you’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

“Okay.” Licenta said, unable to hide her smile.

“You don’t want to go back to your family?” Mrs. Thomas asked as she started spooning out the meal.

“I will miss my mother,” Licenta said.

“What about your friends?” Granny Thomas asked.

“No one wants to be friends with a dead filly; it would be a waste of time and cause undue heartache,” Licenta said, obviously parroting something she had been told.

“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Thomas. “Everyone needs friends.”

“Yes,” Licenta said with a voice that could only be described as bitter.

“Now you have some,” Mr. Thomas said, gesturing toward his daughters.

“Yes,” Licenta said the same word, only this time it contained something that lifted the spirits of all present. Pandora’s box was opened a second time, and its last occupant was released to suffuse the little girl. A new sensation filled her being, and she practically glowed.

“We’ll set you up in Dean’s room,” Mrs. Thomas said, “after we’re done eating.”

“What is this?” Licenta asked, staring down at the table.

“It’s tuna casserole,” Granny Thomas said. “Eat as much as you like.”

“Thank you,” Licenta said reaching for her meal.

“Use your fork, dear.” Granny Thomas said.

“What’s a fork?”

In response, Granny Thomas brandished her own utensil before demonstrating how to use it properly.

“Oww!” Licenta said after poking herself.

“You’ll get used to it,” Rosie said helpfully, before starting on her own plate. “Tuna casserole is kinda icky, but you need to finish if you want any pudding.”

“What’s pudding?” Licenta asked, making a second attempt. “This is good!” she proclaimed.

“We are happy you like it,” Mr. Thomas said with a smile. He had opened his heart to his stepson, giving the boy his last name. He would do the same for this child.

Though an offensive was being deployed, the tide of battle had yet to turn.

Fate had received a right cross to the nose.

Chaos had gained two new powerful allies.

The eternal conflict continued.

Chapter 10: Snapshots of the Day

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Fame might be fleeting; fate might be fickle, but even in a castle overflowing with magic, some things seemed inevitable. The coming of the dawn was one such event. The grumbling of schoolchildren suffering from circadian arrythmia was another. As was their wont, the Gryffindor herd exemplified the latter as they trudged toward the Great Hall to break their fast, trailed closely by Magah in her human form.

“I wish Fay‘d let me take my hawk to classes,” Dean grumbled for the fourth time that morning. “She lets Sweetie take her unicorn.”

“First of all, I don’t really have a choice in the matter,” Sweetie said. “And second, Magah can transfigure into a human when she wants. Your hawk can’t. Besides, you just got him last night.”

“Why can’t he?” Luna questioned.

“Can’t he what?” Lavender asked.

“Become a human,” Luna answered.

“That’s a good question.” Harry mused. “Hermione, can we do that?”

“That might not be possible,” Hermione said. “Magah is a magical creature, but Speedo is a normal bird. He might not be capable.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t try,” Scootaloo said, still disappointed by the lack of vampire bats.

“Cutie Mark Crusader animal trainers!” declared Seamus.

“YAY!”

“Put it on the to-do-list, Parvati,” Apple Bloom instructed.

“On it,” Parvati said, reaching into her school bag. She was quite proud of the planner Hermione had given her for Christmas. Granted, each of the herd had gotten the same, but she was the one who was interested in that level of organization. “Do you want to do that before or after figuring out how to get back into the restricted section, now that Professor McGonagall has told Philomena not to flame us there anymore?”

“We’ll take a vote on it later.” Apple Bloom shrugged.

“We wouldn’t need to figure that out if Ron could learn to keep quiet,” Ginny grumbled.

“It was a big spider!” Ron protested.

“You scream like a little girl,” Seamus countered.

“Do not.”

“Do too,” Seamus insisted.

“Look! It’s the sticky, icky, little firsties,” said a cackling voice, interrupting the argument.

“Peeves!” the members of the herd all cried out, skidding to a halt as a translucent form drifted up out of the floor. The castle’s lone poltergeist had decided to put in an appearance; his penchant for pulling pranks sprang to the forefront of everyone’s minds.

“Bad Peeves!” added Magah.

“Um,” Abagail said warily as the menacing spirit reached under a rug and gave a hidden rope a tug. “Where’s the barrel full of sap that’s normally sitting in that alcove?”

*Sploooosh!*

“It’s up there,” Harry said, pointing upward without looking.

“It’s empty now,” Luna added, also not looking up.

“Bath time!” Magah gleefully said, starting to remove her sticky dress.

“Magah! Wait until we get back to the trunk!” Neville cried out.

A typical schoolchild would have been outraged by the delay in breakfast. Apple Bloom, however, barely raised an eyebrow as she led her herd back to the dormitory. Her experiences as a Cutie Mark Crusader had drilled into her that certain things are inevitable.

Zecora soaked in the din of the Great Hall as she looked up from her mushroom omelet and peered at one of the long tables. Satisfied that she wasn’t mistaken, she turned to Flitwick and asked, “Surely, I know I am new and don’t think anypony is slacking, but am I the only one worried over what that table is lacking?”

Professor Sprout put her goblet back on the table after taking a sip. “You mean the Gryffindor first-years? I hear they had a messy encounter with Peeves. I suspect they’ll be along shortly.”

“A messy encounter you say?” Zecora poked her omelet with her fork. “Was sap involved in any way?”

“They had that problem before they got here?” Flitwick asked, “I knew those barrels in the hallways would be troublesome.”

“They do seem fond of bathing in the stuff,” Professor Goodman opined. “It happens way too often to be coincidence.”

“Okay, I’m just going to say it.” The obviously frustrated muggle studies professor broke in. “What’s with the llama?”

Professor McGonagall let out a defeated sigh. “I’ve received several requests from my lions to keep unorthodox pets. It would seem that they hadn’t waited for permission before acquiring them.”

“But, but, but,” the muggle studies professor sputtered. “a llama?”

“It’s no worse than a unicorn,” Professor McGonagall admitted. “I’m more worried about the octopus.”

“That’s real?” a surprised Berrytwist exclaimed. “I thought it was just a cleverly charmed hat.”

“There are some clever charms involved,” Flitwick commented. “Both a moisturizing charm and a breathing charm to keep it comfortable.”

“But, a llama!” the muggle studies professor repeated. “Can you imagine the sort of mess it makes?”

“Don’t worry,” Professor Sprout said. “The elves will take care of that detail. I’ve even asked them to move all they find to the compost piles. Free fertilizer is free fertilizer, after all.”

“Elves?” the muggle studies professor asked. “We have elves?”

“Who did you think keeps the castle clean?” Professor Goodman asked.

“I thought Filch's role had a lot more depth than he was displaying,” the muggle studies professor admitted.

“Speaking of,” Berrytwist said. “What exactly is his job, anyway?”

Rainbow Dash looked up from the letter she had been reading to address the others around the breakfast table. “That didn’t take long. The crusaders have detention for sneaking into the restricted section of the library.”

“That was quick.” Sirius gave a proud smile. “We didn’t manage to get in there until our third year.”

“We could have gotten in year two if you’d had listened to me.” Remus grumbled.

“They have a restricted section.” Twilight gasped. “Why? How are students supposed to study if knowledge is restricted?”

“Don’t they have a restricted section at the Canterlot library?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Not to mention the private collections of the Royal library?”

“Those were really annoying until I learned to teleport.” Twilight pouted.

Andi and Ted Tonks gave her twin incredulous looks.

“Don’t worry.” Broke in Pinkie Pie. “Any books she sends the foals have to go through Professor McGonagall first.”

There was more than one sigh of relief at that declaration.

“Anyhow.” Rainbow said returning her gaze to the letter. “Professor McGonagall wants to know if we have a way to restrict the Crusaders’ mobility. The castle wards can’t stop Philomena and she thinks an unlimited travel range might be too much for first years.”

“Does she want to send Philomena back to the princess?” Pinkie asked.

“That’s not going to happen.” Twilight said.

“Why not?” Andi asked.

“Philomena may be Princess Celestia’s pet, but there is a familiar bond between her and Sweetie.” Twilight said.

“Why would the Princess allow that to happen?” Remus asked. “I would think that she’d want her own bond with the phoenix instead.”

“Princess Celestia keeps a phoenix as a pet because, frankly, they live for a long time.” Twilight said. “However, a familiar bond between a bird of fire and the alicorn of the sun wouldn’t be wise.”

“Really?” asked Ted. “Why so?”

Twilight fixed him with a look. “It would be bad.”

“How bad?”

“Very bad.” Twilight insisted. “Which is why Philomena is not Princess Celestia’s familiar. Besides, Philomena likes to take a familiar every couple centuries or so, according to Princess Celestia. Still, she did mention she could ask Philomena to limit the foals to the castle until they get older.”

“The kids are going to be disappointed to be leashed like that.” Sirius said. sounding disappointed himself.

“Sirius,” Andi chided. “now is the time to pretend to be a responsible adult.”

“Dun wanna.” Sirius countered.

“It’s probably not worth the time.” Rainbow said. “I give them a week before they figure out some new and ludicrous way of moving around. Taking away their freedom is just asking for them to put some effort into reclaiming it.”

“The wards are capable of stopping every other known method of travel.” Remus reminded her.

“Two weeks then.” Rainbow shrugged. “they’ll be back in the restricted section before the week’s out, though.”

“That’s a tall order.” Andi said. “and they are only first years.”

“Bet ya five bits.” Rainbow challenged.

“You’re on.” Andi said.

“I’m in for three weeks on the greater transport and a month for the restricted section.” Sirius added.

“You’re underestimating them.” Pinkie said. “I’d say less than two days for both.”

“Now you’re just being silly.” Remus said. “one week for the library and three months for the universal movement.”

“Are you people serious?” Ted asked.

“Actually.”

“Shut up, forget I said that.” Ted sighed. “Beginning, of next year for the library and not until fourth year for the apparition.”

“Is anyone else besides me worried that Pinkie just bet on less than forty-eight hours?” Twilight asked.

“I’m more worried that none of you think they won’t pull it off.” said Andi.

“Actually, it might be a better idea to leave it as is.” Remus said. “At least this way Philomena has veto power.”

“Seriously, you people have some ridiculous expectations of those children.” Nissy huffed, entering the conversation for the first time.

“Umm.”

“Must you be triggered every time that word is spoken?” Nissy interrupted.

“Yes.”

The stench of failure filled the tidy shop in Canterlot. Mrs. Brown had been confident in her ability to teach a simple shrinking charm, but her pupil had proven to be incredibly inapt. Magical power was not the problem; if Mrs. Brown were being honest, she'd admit that Mystic Book could easily match her own magical capacity. Fine control was not an issue; the precision with which the mare shaped her crystals rivaled that of a microsurgeon. It didn't take long for the problem to become evident; Mystic Book was completely ignorant of basic magical theory. While the shrinking charm was well within the mare's capacity, she simply did not have the foundation to learn it in what little time Mrs. Brown had to spare.

Mrs. Brown was appalled to learn that such ignorance was normal among the ponies. The levitation spell was a staple that every unicorn learned. Beyond that, few, if any, other spells were learned. They did have their mages, but theirs was not a common pursuit. From a magical standpoint, their society had raw resources in spades, but they lacked the educational infrastructure to fully exploit them. That state of affairs was the very definition of wasted potential. It was a sad fact that the worst among the third-year Hogwarts students outstripped the average adult unicorn in terms of magical versatility.

The flip side of the skill set was that the average adult unicorn's magical aptitude was specialized to a frightening degree. Just by listening to Mystic Book, Mrs. Brown could easily deduce that ponies who had a spell that was backed by their cutie mark made master wizards look like amateurs when the ponies practiced their specialty. The way Crystal Cache was churning out TEIF crystals was proof enough of that.

The young mare's special talent proved to be a godsend. Mrs. Brown had only needed an hour the night before to produce the promised catalog. That artefact had created several stacks of order pamphlets. Mystic Book had dropped off one stack at Flourish and Botts when Mrs. Brown had taken the older mare to purchase two owls for the shop. They hadn't returned to the shop for more than fifteen minutes when the first order had arrived, tied to the leg of an owl. The second owl had arrived just as the first order was being shrunk for transport. The third owl had arrived shortly thereafter; it had brought a request from Flourish and Botts for more pamphlets; their entire stock had sold out at three knuts a piece. Crystal Cache's proficiency at producing finished product had been the only thing that had kept the ensuing mayhem at bay.

Although the shop itself was closed, the activity within was more frenetic than it had been even during the Hearth's Warming rush. As fast as Crystal Cache produced finished crystals, Mystic Book pulled items from inventory and bundled them into packages that Mrs. Brown shrank and attached to delivery owls.

“Tante!” Crystal called out. “We are missing any brut crystals for calibrage C class crystals. This will the last batch I can make.”

“Will be! Oui!” Mystic Book called back. “I shall rush out and purchase more. We are mostly out of packaging boxes and will need those as well.”

“Does that mean we’re taking a break?” Mrs. Brown asked, perspiration clearly visible on her forehead.

“We have no choice,” Mystic Book said, looking at the mound of coins covering the counter. “We must restock our raw materials.” A new owl flew in, landed on the mare's back, and looked around in confusion.

“Good,” said Mrs. Brown. “I need to get back to my own projects. I have some time-sensitive orders to complete.”

The panic was plain on Mystic’s face. “You will be back to shrink packages? No?”

Mrs. Brown shook her head. “I don’t have the time.” Mystic started to speak, but the human woman plowed on. “Don’t worry; my son has recently lost his job due to the downsizing at the Ministry. I’m sure I can convince him to come help you. It’ll get him off that game Lavender bought. He should be out looking for work anyway; it’s not like offers are in short supply.”

“Oui,” Mystic said. “I am really going to have to get a hoof on that shrinking spell.”

“We are short on class H brut crystals too!” Crystal called from the back room.

Professor Weiss looked out over her classroom. She had come a long way in a few short months. No longer was she just a tutor. Like Richard, she was now a full professor. Sure, it meant more commitment, and she now had to deal with students who couldn't care less whether they slept in her class or Professor Binns'. Still, practically anything was an improvement over the ghost's curriculum. It was readily apparent that the children were sick of hearing about the goblin rebellion . . . again.

“Hello, class,” she said as a way of greeting, “and welcome back to History of Magic. As you may have noticed, I shall be replacing your former instructor.”

“All I have to say is, 'I like this way,'” said one of the students in the third row from the back.

“Though we shall surely lose sleep, there will be much knowledge to reap,” said another.

“I’m happy to say this lass will now find her OWLS easy to pass,” a girl in the front row added.

“That is the objective,” Professor Weis acknowledged. “Though I am sad to say that there is a lot of work ahead of us to make up for lost time.”

“Despite the extra work . . . um . . . we see this as a perk,” said another student.

“I can say without any strife, I want more than just goblins' life,” yet another said eagerly.

“I don’t know; I’ll miss the gap. It’ll be a woe to be deprived our nap,” stated a sleepy student.

“There will be no napping in my class,” Professor Weiss said sternly. “I am certain that you all shall adjust.”

“I meant not to complain, this class will surely keep us sane.”

“That is my objective,” Professor Weiss said. “There is just way too much ignorance of the wizarding world running rampant through this school. I mean to remedy that.”

“Please remove the haze from all wizards' ways?” asked a student, grinning.

“There has been a blur of pumpkin orange,” said a voice from the middle of the room. “With a new teacher . . .. Um no . . . that’s not going to work. I’ve got nothing.”

Professor Weiss blinked before asking, “Did the lot of you have potions last class?”

Every student nodded happily.

“It was rather inviting,” said the girl in the front row, “and very exciting.”

This was not going the way he had planned. Dudley looked down at his unchanged matchstick and then back at his arm. How had he managed that? At least he wasn’t the only one who had made the mistake. Hopefully it wouldn’t get them banned from the class. The professor had firmly threatened that any foolishness would get them kicked out with no hope of returning.

“Professor McGonagall!” Dinky raised her own hand, frantically waving it with panic wavering just below the surface of her voice. “We’ve had an accident!”

The stern woman came over, took one look at Dudley’s arm before weaving her wand in a complex manner and muttering under her breath.

With a sigh, Dudley was able to move his appendage once again.

Once she was satisfied, Professor McGonagall turned her attention to Dinky and repeated the process on the young girl’s hair, returning it to the yellow locks with which Dudley had become familiar.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Dudley said, trying to get ahead of any upbraiding that might be imminent.

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips firmly together. “It is I who should apologize, Mr. Dursley,” she said. “I should have foreseen the possibility; after all, it is not unprecedented.”

“I’m not the first to turn my own arm to wood?” Dudley asked hopefully.

“That is not what happened here,” Professor McGonagall said. “Miss Doo, what is the composition of your wand core?”

“It’s unicorn hair,” Dinky said. “Human world unicorn, not a pony’s”

“I see,” said Professor McGonagall. “As I said, this is not unprecedented. I am afraid we will have to work on your aim before you shall be permitted to attempt this exercise again.”

Nymphadora and her herd, in name only, were making the familiar walk to the gryphon restaurant when a shout halted their progress.

“Tonks!” came the voice from above before the instigator landed in front of the group with a thump.

“Wotcher Gordon,” Nymphadora greeted happily. “How’s it going?”

“Quick!” Gordon was nearly hysterical. “You’ve got to hide!”

“What!” Nymphadora exclaimed. “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

“No time!” Gordon said quickly. “I sent a letter home! You’ve got to hi . . .”

“Gordon?” yelled the voice of an older woman. “Is that her?!”

Gordon wilted. “Too late.”

“What?” Nymphadora asked as an older female gryphon landed next to Gordon.

“Hello,” the hen said, staring at Nymphadora with unblinking eyes. “A rainbow coat? You must be this 'Tonks' my son has told me so much about.”

“Um . . . Wotcher.” Nymphadora said. “Yes, I’m Tonks.”

“Yes, this is Tonks,” Gordon said hurriedly. “She’s on her lunch break, so I’m sure she’s in a hurry. We shouldn’t bother her, so why don’t we . . .”

“Hush, Gordon.” the hen snapped. “Sit!”

Gordon’s beak snapped shut as his hindquarters connected with the street.

“Good chick,” the hen said. “Now be polite and introduce us.”

“Mom, this is Tonks. Tonks this is my mom. Now I’m sure you’ve got other . . .”

“Gordon,” Gordon’s mother barked as she started circling Nymphadora, eyeing her critically. “Hello dear.”

“Um . . . hello Mrs. Gordon,” Nymphadora hesitantly ventured.

“Mrs. Gordon?” the hen clucked. “No, I’ve never been called that before. Call me Glados.”

“Yes ma’am,” Nymphadora said.

Gordon’s mother gave her a withering look.

“Yes Glados.” Nymphadora hastily corrected.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at,” Glados said, continuing her inspection. “You’re supposed to be able to change your shape, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Another glare followed.

“Yes Glados.”

Well then,” Gordon’s mother said, “let’s see your gryphon form.”

“I don’t have a gryphon form,” Nymphadora countered.

“It’s time you get one then,” said Glados.

Nymphadora looked at the hen before smirking. A ring of flames surrounded her. Then, an exact copy of Glados stood at attention. In Glados' voice, Tonks said, "Huge success."

“That won’t do.” Glados tsked. “My Gordon has issues, but that’s not one of them. First things first, make yourself younger.”

Nymphadora’s metamorphmagus skills came to the front and her image altered.

“Younger means smaller.” Glados said, circling Nymphadora again. “A lighter shade of fur and light blue feathers.”

Nymphadora complied.

“You're doing very well,” Glados said approvingly. “Now golden eyes . . . I said golden, not yellow. I suppose that will work for now; we can tweak it later. Now there is no reason to put off lunch any longer. I’ll just fly ahead. Quit now, and cake will be served.” With those words, she leapt into the air and headed in the direction of the restaurant.

“What just happened?” Clementine had watched the entire encounter with wide-open eyes.

“Poetic justice happened,” Jason said.

“That’s my mom for you,” Gordon grumbled.

Nymphadora turned on Gordon. “What exactly was in that letter?”

Filthy Rich looked up at the sound of his office doors slamming shut. His wife stood on her hind legs, bracing the door with her back and wide-spread forelegs.

“Hello dear,” Filthy said. “How was your trip?”

“Gaaah! Gaaah!” Spoiled Rich sputtered. “Sna! Sna!!! Sna!!!”

“I see you’ve met our newest family member,” Filthy said, plucking a crystal glass off the silver tray holding several of the vessels.

“Whu! Whu! Whu!” Spoiled replied.

“I’m afraid the front hall is the only room in the mansion large enough to hold him.” Filthy poured some apple brandy from a crystal decanter.

“Whu!! Whu!! Whu!!” Spoiled sputtered.

“I’ve contacted some contractors. They’ll build an addition to house him more comfortably.” Filthy held out the filled glass.

Spoiled looked down at the proffered alcohol. “Huh?” she asked smartly.

“He’s Diamond’s new pet,” Filthy said, “quite prestigious from what I understand.”

“YOU HAVE GOT TO LEARN TO SAY NO TO YOUR DAUGHTER!”

Cheerilee looked out over her class. The reduced size was a blow to her ego, a blow easily tempered by the knowledge that several new families were due to move in later that month. Circumstance had dictated that ponies with new skill sets were being enticed to move to Ponyville, not the least of which was psychological care. On top of that, there were rumors of land being surveyed for a training barracks. That meant support ponies would be needed as well. Support ponies meant new families. New families meant new children. New children meant new students. Her worries over becoming obsolete were superseded by the realization that she would probably be requiring an assistant instead.

“Children.” Cheerilee addressed her class. “I have a surprise for you today.”

This got the expected response as every eye in the room locked onto her, and the eagerness became palpable.

“Put your books away and follow me, please,” Cheerilee commanded, watching as the foals eagerly followed her directions.

It was a gleefully galivanting gaggle of grade schoolers that followed her out the door and onto the playground. There they found one of those new humans patiently waiting and holding a broom. Lying in a perfect line on the ground was the town’s own broom collection.

“Don’t stand around woolgathering,” the human with striking yellow eyes snapped, getting instant compliance from the foals. “Find a broom and stand next to it. We haven’t all day.”

“What are you doing here?” Snips asked as he found a broom for himself.

“Your mayor has asked for my services,” the human responded. “She doesn’t want the town’s insurance premiums to go up any higher.”

“Arrrrrgh! Help! Help Peeves! Help Peeves! They’re after me!” The castle’s poltergeist rocketed down the hallway, passing the two adults, screaming his incorporeal lungs off.

“Git back here ya polecat!”

“It’s payback time!”

“Let’s see how you like it!”

“I’ve got a bucket of sap with your name on it!”

“Cutie Mark Crusader Ghostbusters!”

“Yay!”

He was followed closely by a herd of small ponies with murder in their eyes, accompanied by one fully-grown unicorn.

“Should we intervene?” the muggle studies professor asked after the procession had rounded a corner.

“Eh.” Berrytwist shrugged. “What can a bunch of foals do to a ghost anyway?”

“Do we want to find out?”

“Should be interesting,” Berrytwist said. “Now, you were going to ask my advice on something?”

“Yes.” The Muggle studies professor actually blushed. “A beautiful white owl just delivered a stack of letters to me.”

“And?” Berrytwist asked.

“I seem to have acquired some admirers,” the muggle studies professor said. “A fair few, as a matter of fact.”

“So, pick the ones you find appealing and go on a date,” Berrytwist said. “That doesn’t seem too onerous.”

“Well, that’s the problem. Not to be rude or anything, but I don’t find you or your kind appealing in that way. Don’t get me wrong, I think you are cute and most likely cuddly, but that’s as far as it goes.”

“You are dense,” Berrytwist said.

“I beg your pardon.”

“You’ve seen the potions apprentices in the Great Hall, haven’t you?” Berrytwist pressed.

“Of course, I have. I admit they are attractive for their age. However, they are too young for my tastes, professionalism aside.”

“You do realize that they are all ponies.” Berrytwist drawled.

“They are?”

“I would have thought their hair color would have given them away,” Berrytwist answered.

“Are all ponies attractive in human form?”

“I see you’ve figured it out.” Berrytwist began walking away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have the sudden urge to track Richard down.”

The senior prefect looked around the smoke-filled common room, taking note of the upper years putting out flames with spurts of liquid while others cast the charms necessary to minimize the water damage to the precious books.

“Right, then,” he said menacingly. “I don’t care who wants to study this new and exciting ability. No one is to make Sue Li angry around books or other flammable material.”

The senior prefect looked around the smoke-filled common room, taking in the crackling crystal shards and the soot-covered students; a few had wisps of smoke drifting up from their hair. Luckily, the Hufflepuffs' newly gifted telly appeared undamaged.

“Right, then,” he said menacingly. “We’ll be getting help from a Gryffindor who knows how to set this up properly.”

The senior prefect looked around the smokeless common room, taking note of the empty spot that used to contain a comfortable couch. Luckily, no one had been sitting on it during the incident. The green flames hadn’t even left ashes.

“Right, then,” he said menacingly. “I don’t care how cute he is; no tickling the sleeping dragon.”

Raven Inkwell hid her muzzle behind a hoof for courtesy's sake.

Luna, however. was brazenly laughing.

“I hate it when he does that.” Celestia’s voice came from under a comfy-looking couch.

A group of upper-year Gryffindors stood in the Great Hall looking at the newest decoration.

“What’s that?” Angelina was the first to speak.

“HELP PEEVES!”

“Looks like a glass footie ball,” Lee said.

“PEEVES DON’T LIKE THIS!”

“Shouldn’t he be able to phase out of that?” Terisa asked.

“STOP STARING!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s sap mixed in there with him,” Percy said.

“PEEVES’LL BE GOOD!”

“Is anyone else getting tired of being shown up by a bunch of first years?” Alicia asked.

“POOR PEEVES!”

“Why does he always refer to himself by his own name?” Katie wondered. “Hasn’t he ever heard of a pronoun?”

“LET PEEVES OUT!”

“There’s a similar spell in the restricted section,” Fred said.

“We couldn’t pull it off, or we would have,” George clarified.

“BREAK THE BLOODY THING!”

“Why couldn’t you do this?” Terisa asked.

“What were you doing in the restricted section?” Percy demanded.

“THIS ISN’T FUNNY!”

Ignoring his brother, George said. “We lacked a vital ingredient and couldn’t figure out a working substitute.”

Fay cast a silencing charm on the glass ball. “Oh? What’s that then?”

Fred answered for his twin. “You need three drops of willingly-given unicorn bl . . .” his voice trailed off as realization hit.

“Peeves is so thoroughly buggered,” Lee finished for him.

It was at that point that the first-year Gryffindors entered the hall carrying an assortment of strange items. As one, the older students turned to stare at the new arrivals.

“What?” Scootaloo demanded after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

George looked at the glass ball then back at the younger students and raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t think that the resurrection ritual was the only spell we got from Twilight’s book, did you?” Hermione asked defensively.

“Would I be amiss to give them points for this?” Percy asked Fay, deferring to the senior prefect.

“Two points to Gryffindor for creative spell work.” Fay answered.

“What are you planning to do with that?” Terisa asked, focusing on the objects the herd held in their hands.

“We’re only half done with the whole busting thing.” Seamus said. “We need this stuff to complete the banishing.”

“You’re going to banish Peeves?” Katie asked. “Shouldn’t you ask a professor first?”

“Forgiveness versus permission and all that,” Dean said.

“Nothing! I see nothing!” Fay declared, hurrying from the Great Hall.

Recognizing a cue when he saw one, Percy called out as he trailed after the older girl, “What she said.”

“Married life has changed our brother,” Fred said.

“Too right,” George agreed. “The stick is almost out.”

“Can we help?” Angelina asked eagerly, bringing the conversation back on topic. “There is no way I’m missing out on this.”

“What would that be then?” asked a male voice from behind the group.

More than one student jumped as they turned to behold Professor Goodman and his assistant cum wife.

“We were just planning on taunting a certain poltergeist,” George said, not being a stranger to being caught mid-prank.

“His mother smells of elderberries.” Fred nodded.

Professor Goodman surveyed the students and took note of what the younger ones were carrying. With a sigh, he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No banishing school ghosts.”

“It’s only Peeves,” Abagail objected.

“No,” Professor Goodman said.

“But,” started Sweetie Belle.

“No!” Professor Goodman snapped this time

“Aaaw!” None of the students failed to join in on the disappointed exclamation.

“Just no,” Professor Goodman said as he snatched the globe. “Now move along and get cleaned up; supper starts in fifteen minutes.”

And there was much grumbling as the students filed out.

Berrytwist looked up to study their handiwork. “I knew it would be interesting.”

"Thank you! Thank you!" Peeves said as the sloppy silencing charm was dispelled.

Berrytwist trailed as Goodman left the room. She asked, "Given his reputation, weren't you even a little tempted to leave him with the Gryffindors?"

Huffily, Goodman replied, "Not even for a second."

With relief evident in his voice, Peeves said, "Peeves knew professor wouldn't let children hurt Peeves."

Goodman continued, "There are much older debts to be paid first. I know a few bouncy charms, with those and some transfiguration to a suitably sized classroom; I’ll be teaching you America basketball." An expertly-cast silencing charm cut off a scream that would have given nightmares to even the strongest of heart.

Interlude 1: Bugs in the System

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By every quantifiable measure, Janice had built a comfortable life for herself. She never had to worry about where she might find her next meal, and she never had to worry about losing the roof over her head. In fact, she owned her house outright, and she had no debts to be reconciled. Smart investments, careful money management, and a bit of incredible luck had netted her a positively palatial dwelling. It had stood out as a monument to her success. If only it hadn’t loomed as a constant reminder of her loneliness.

Janice had tried to fill that void by furnishing each room with a bit of her heart and soul. She had developed an eye for dilapidated furniture in need of some tender, loving care. The modern monstrosities of plastic, sawdust, and glue never passed her threshold. Instead, she had always started with bones of solid wood or quality metalwork. Over time, she had developed the myriad of skills that, when combined with love and elbow grease, had allowed her to resurrect pieces that would otherwise have rotted or rusted away. The best part had been that the long hours of her hobby had allowed her to concentrate on something other than the hole in her heart.

As distracting as her hobby may have been, she had become painfully aware that conversations with furniture were rarely productive. The house might have been more crowded, but it had still been painfully empty. It had needed more. With that in mind, she had adopted a cat. One cat had led to another, and another, and many, many more kitties. She had not reached thirty years, but she had at least thirty of the little furballs making themselves at home. She was not a crazy cat lady. Cats were renown for being aloof; she had simply obtained enough to ensure that there was always at least one who desired to be cuddled when she needed comfort.

Janice had a large house. Despite everything she had done, it was still a large, empty house.

Everything she had done, everything she had been doing simply hadn't been enough. She had needed more.

By every quantifiable measure, she had more than she would ever need. That did not change a simple fact; numbers did not tell the whole truth; emotions could not be quantified.

As she sat alone at her table in the local café, one thought came to mind. Her life was a desert, a void, a vacuum. Mere words could not adequately describe its emptiness.

For more years than she cared to remember, this had been her daily routine. Tea time was theoretically her time to relax and to watch other people. It was hardly a hobby; she took no pleasure in being the metaphorical stranger staring enviously through the window at the loving family gathered around a fireplace.

She knew what she was missing.

She simply had no idea how to get what she needed.

When she tried to talk to others, she was lucky to get squeaks out, let alone a coherent sentence.

She couldn’t get what she wanted.

She couldn't get what she needed.

In her darkest hour, Darla walked into her life. The girl, who couldn’t have been more than nineteen, had marched up to her table with a determined look. Without hesitation, the teenager had plopped down in the chair across from her without so much as a by your leave. The first words out of her mouth were “I hear you’ve a room to let”.

Janice had been caught off guard, staring at the intruder in shock. No such advert had been posted.

“I’ll take it,” Darla declared, figuratively and literally barging her way into Janice’s life. Janice had doubted the girl would take no for an answer, even if she had a mind or will to utter that word. She had the room, and the girl carried her worldly possessions in a tiny rucksack.

Just like that, Janice accepted Darla into her house.

Just like that, Janice accepted Darla into her heart.

It quickly became obvious that Darla had issues. Now that she had someone to cook for, Janice prepared large meals. The girl barely ate what was offered, picking at her meals to appease Janice. It was clear that the girl considered it a chore.

Worse yet, several times when passing the younger female’s room, Janice had heard the unmistakable sound of retching. While Darla wasn’t skinny, this could not be a good sign. Once there was even a bucket in the loo, waiting to be cleaned. True, it had already been emptied, but there were still traces inside, leaving Janice to wonder what the girl had eaten that could have produced that particular shade of pink.

Janice was at a loss. Darla needed help, and Janice didn’t know how to get it for her. However, she adored the girl’s company, and she would do everything in her power to keep Darla happy and healthy.

Then, after three weeks of living together, without warning Darla showed up leading a man. His name was Victor. Darla had found him in an alleyway, recently homeless and downcast. Darla offered to pay for a room for him as well. Janice was wary, but she gave in to those beautiful brown eyes that Darla flashed at her.

The large empty house now had three residents . . . not counting the cats.

It turned out that Victor had a hard time keeping a job due to his inability to deal with what he called "stupidity". He claimed that he didn’t have anger issues. He said he could not tolerate those who refused to acknowledge the obvious. The stories he told along those lines were amusing, like the time he got fired for calling a customer an idiot. Apparently, the man had complained that his payment hadn’t shown up on his statement. After checking, Victor had informed him that the payment had been recorded on the fifteenth, while the statement had been printed on the fourteenth. The customer had then angerly said that he had received the statement on the nineteenth, so why wasn’t his payment recorded? Victor had repeated that the statement had been printed on the fourteenth, to which the customer had yelled at him that the statement was received in the mail on the nineteenth, so why wasn’t his payment shown on the bloody paper? Things had proceeded to go downhill from there.

With no outstanding commitments, Victor had started helping Janice in her workshop. Together, they started turning out more finished pieces, which Victor had suggested they sell. Surprisingly enough, that turned out to be profitable as well as enjoyable. Better yet, both of them were relishing the time spent together.

It would have been perfect, if not for the worry. The frequency of hearing vomiting from Darla’s room increased noticeably.

Victor had suggested it was time to put their proverbial foot down. A doctor’s appointment was made, and Darla was firmly informed that she would be attending.

The very next morning, Darla didn’t come down for breakfast. Concerned, they had checked her room, only to find it empty. Worse yet, Darla’s rucksack was nowhere to be found.

Distressed, Janice had buried herself in Victor’s embrace to wail.

They had to find the girl.

They had to help the girl.

Janice had found comfort in Victor’s arms for the first time.

Janice had found the missing something for the first time.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

This was hardly Milo's first party; he was attending uni, after all. However, he was not even a pretender; he lacked anything resembling a clue. Still, he could dream. He knew that was the only way he had any chance with the gorgeous stranger who rapidly approached. She was extremely easy on the eyes, and her long, luxurious red hair framed a flawless heart-shaped face. He had always thought that a figure to die for was simply a figure of speech; he now knew better. This redhead was screaming, "I'm out of your league" without moving her perfect lips.

Still, she headed directly for him. Milo couldn't help but remember all the good things he'd heard about redheads. As she came ever closer, he couldn't help but remember all of the bad things he had heard about them, as well. The expression on her face left no doubt as to the intensity of their tempers. He could practically feel the anger she was directing toward him. The girl had stormed through the crowd and now confronted him with a scowl.

“Can I help you?” Milo asked, slightly crushing the cheap plastic cup he had been holding.

“Are you kidding me?” the girl snapped. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“What?” Milo asked, more bewildered than he had ever been in his life. “Do I know you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snapped. “That’s not important. You walked right by her four times. How could you be so oblivious?”

“W . . . what?” Milo stuttered slightly under the onslaught.

“Enough of this nonsense.” The vision of beauty reached out, grabbed his hand, and began dragging him through the gathering of partygoers.

Milo could very easily have reclaimed his appendage, but no woman had shown such an interest in him before, let alone a hot redhead. One could have credited his curiosity. One could also have credited his amusement at the situation. One could even have credited his boredom at being a wallflower. However, the plain truth of the matter was that his reasoning began and ended with "hot redhead". To be honest, hormones have the backing of countless generations of evolution; thus, they can and will trump common sense or even self-preservation with disturbing regularity.

It wasn’t long before the redhead loomed up to two girls engaging in what appeared to be a deep conversation. The gorgeous blonde looked up at their approach and gave a small frown of her own. “Larva?” she demanded in an annoyed voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Filling my quota,” the redhead snapped irritably as she reached out, grabbing the brunette who had been talking to the blonde. With a deft tug, the redhead made Milo and her newest victim stumble together. “There we go. Perfect.”

“Are you crazy?” the brunette demanded angerly.

“No. Just impatient,” Larva snapped back. “Your two auras are screaming to be together, and frankly it’s getting annoying.”

“Larva, you can’t just . . .” started the blonde.

“Shut up, Feelers,” Larva snapped. “This is one of the easier ones. We’ve got bigger fish to fry, as the saying goes.”

“You are crazy,” stated the brunette, stepping closer to Milo, unconsciously trying to distance herself from the disturbed redhead.

“Yeah, yeah,” Larva said. “Yada, yada, you’ve berated me; are you happy? Now get to know each other, learn to appreciate each other, and produce lots of lovable children. You can thank me later; I’ve got tougher nuts to crack.”

“I need to introduce you to the concept of subtlety.” Feelers sighed. “This is stupid.”

“If it's stupid but it works, then it’s not stupid,” Larva countered, grabbing the blonde’s hand, dragging her off to who knew where.

“You have got to stop spouting catchphrases.” Feelers’ voice faded as the two girls disappeared into the crowd.

Milo looked down at the brunette he somehow found himself holding. “You have some weird friends,” he declared.

“Weird friends?” The brunette looked up into his eyes, truly noticing him for the first time. “I thought they were with you.”

“No.” Milo shook his head, “I just got ambushed by the redhead. First time I’ve ever seen her, to tell the truth.”

The brunette gave him a thoughtful look before saying, “I just met Feelers a few minutes ago. God, what self-respecting woman goes by the nickname 'Feelers'? That’s trouble just waiting to happen.”

She had started a conversation with Milo.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

It was a somber day in the old mansion. Though no one was crass enough to give voice to the thought, everyone there knew the occasion was a long time in the making. Many had already come to terms with the event that was even more unavoidable than taxes. Though sudden, the development was far from unexpected.

The family patriarch had fallen asleep the night before, never to awaken. Calls had been made, leading to an impromptu gathering over lunch. Everyone showed up. Even Felicity and her girlfriend of fourteen years defiantly attended, along with their ten-year-old daughter. None were turned away; all were welcomed to pay their respects. Maids, and chauffeurs, business partners and gardeners, everyone there had been touched by his life.

His last wishes were personified by three special guests. His favorite solicitor and his former nurse stood together; they were now a couple after humoring the old man's request that they go on a date. The matron of the new orphanage sponsored by the old man loudly declared that her life's ambition had been realized as a result of the deceased's last official act.

They came to share their memories.

They came to share their hopes.

They came to share their love.

They gathered as friends and family.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

Elisa Bates was free to follow her dreams. Her life had been completely transformed. She no longer had to worry about the daily drudgery of motherhood; her daughter was a witch who spent most of the year at boarding school. She no longer had to worry about a job; to say that she was financially secure was an understatement. She now had the freedom to do what she wanted. Now, all she had to do was figure out what that was.

She had yet to work up the nerve to question those responsible for her new life. The goblins had gone out of their way to please both her daughter and her. She had been repeatedly told that this was not normal behavior for them. If she knew their motivation, she might be able to decide what she should do with her new life. The nagging suspicion that inquiring might bring an end to it all, stayed her curiosity.

One distinct change for the better was that she finally had people she could call friends. In her old life, she had gathered acquaintances and coworkers, but never friends. Now, she was in constant contact with several women whose children were also first year Gryffindors. Her life was so much brighter due to all of the changes. For the first time she could remember, she was considering joining the dating scene, something with which she had no experience and no idea how to begin. It wasn’t like a relationship would just drop into her lap out of nowhere.

Perhaps she should talk to Emma about it. A little help couldn’t hurt. A lot of help might even be better.

Perhaps she should pay attention to her shopping. She nearly knocked over a display of the escargot that she'd been seeking for her latest culinary experiments.

“Excuse me.” Elisa turned to find a redheaded woman yanking a startled-looking man. “Here you go,” the woman stated, shoving the man at Elisa. “Have fun.” She then walked away and was heard to say, “This is way too easy.”

“What was that all about?” Elisa asked, finding herself closer to the strange man than was strictly comfortable.

“I have no idea,” the man said. “She just grabbed me and yanked me over here without so much as a by your leave.”

“I suppose she fancies herself Cupid.” Elisa took a wary step backwards.

“I thought Cupid used arrows, not grappling,” replied the man.

“This is more than a little awkward,” Elisa said.

She looked up into hazel eyes.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

Chapter 11: Travel Options

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The wind was a vampire, threatening to suck out every last bit of warmth. It was cloaked in a swirling white mask that reduced the world to two pony-lengths in every direction. The unending desolation would crush hope in all but the most foolhardy -- or the most determined. Mi Amore Cadenza was one of the latter. She was a mare on a mission. With Celestia as her witness, she would not fail.

She had not come unprepared. Her entourage included the best cold weather specialists that Equestria had to offer. Using every trick at their disposal, they were able to guide her toward the sanctuary in the storm. Cadance smiled as she let her mind wander.

She had her Shiny at her side and a multitude of support ponies at her back. She would make Auntie proud.

Then, she would take a nice long soak in a hot bath.

With hot chocolate.

Lots of hot chocolate.

Snuggling with Shiny.

Nice warm Shiny.

The fantasy was so captivating that she did not at first register the wall of magic. Her backside was still experiencing an unfettered blizzard while her front half had emerged into a pleasant spring day. The ravenous wind was replaced by a warm breeze. Fresh grass tickled hooves where there should have been snow over permafrost instead. The respite was enough to take one's breath away. In the distance, however, lay something far more remarkable. It was a city older than Celestia herself, a city made of crystal.

Next to the pink princess, Shining Armor used a forehoof to lift the snow goggles from his eyes. “We have arrived,” he stated, awe in his voice.

“It’s here.” Cadance breathed. “It’s really here. Auntie was right.”

“I think I see ponies among the buildings,” Shining said, squinting as he shaded his eyes with a forehoof.

“They’re back.” Cadance smiled.

“That means the old king could be back as well.” Shiny reminded her with some hesitation.

“Then it is time to do what is necessary,” Cadance said with steel in her voice. “The city must survive.”

Shining replied, "I always knew you had the heart of a fighter."

Cadence gave a grim smile. "The old Cadence would have been shaking in her hooves. The pink queen knows she can handle the black king."

The Transfiguration classroom was now the exclusive domain of the Gryffindors.

“It’s not fair.” Lavender crossed her arms in front of her chest, pouting fiercely.

“Not fair?” Professor McGonagall scowled from where she was sitting behind her desk, having held the Gryffindors back after class. “I fail to see how holding you and your classmates to the same standards as the rest of the student body could be considered unfair.”

“But we weren’t hurting anyone,” Dean spoke up. “In fact, we were providing pizza and things for everyone.”

“Shall I consider that a confession?” Professor McGonagall asked. “In case you have forgotten, students are not allowed to leave school grounds unaccompanied. If a promise is required from your phoenix to halt that transgressions, then that is what shall be. Princess Celestia has already spoken to her on the subject, and it has been agreed that you shall have your wings clipped.”

“Princess or not, anypony clipping my wings is dead,” Scootaloo snarled, taking a step backward as the rest of the herd closed ranks in front of her.

Immediately, Professor McGonagall regretted uttering those words. “I was referring to your excursions with the help of Philomena," she said in a placating tone. "Children as young as yourselves should not be traipsing across the entirety of the United Kingdom unsupervised. It was a poor choice of words, I did not mean that literally, Miss Aloo.”

“I did,” Scootaloo said. “If anyone gets anywhere near my wings with a pair of scissors . . .”

“Miss Aloo!” Professor McGonagall snapped. “I shall not be spoken to in that tone of voice. Five points from Gryffindor.”

Hastily, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle huddled with her and quickly exchanged whispers. The professor could have sworn she could see the air shimmering above the redhead.

“I'm sorry, ma’am,” Scootaloo said contritely when she broke the huddle. “I just want to make it clear that my wings are off limits.”

“Understandable,” Professor McGonagall said. “Now I suggest you and your friends head to your next class, before I am forced to find more reasons to take points away from my house.”

“This sucks,” Seamus said as he followed his herdmates out of the classroom.

Minerva sighed as she watched them go. Without a word, she took a muggle object out of her top drawer. Twilight had attached a small crystal to it so it would work in a magic-rich environment. After the professor pressed a small button on it, tiny numbers began counting up, marking the seconds as they passed.

In a meeting room in an anonymous building in Whitehall, a meeting was taking place.

“So,” said a nondescript man sitting at the head of the table, “what have we learned this week?”

“Don’t eat Every Flavour Beans,” one of the other men immediately quipped.

“Oh?” asked the man running the meeting.

“Yes, petrol-flavored beans look just like licorice-flavored.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“The cheesecake flavored ones are to die for,” said a third man. “Pity they are so small that they just leave you wanting more.”

“I hardly think our time should be wasted discussing delicacies,” said the man in charge.

“I suppose you don’t want to hear about cockroach clusters either then?”

“I hope you’re joking,” pleaded someone further down the table.

“Keep hoping.”

“We are drifting off topic,” said the man in charge.

“Actually,” said a woman in a smart business suit, “I have one more food-related item that may be pertinent.”

“Please continue.”

“Our little centaur is lactose intolerant,” the woman said. “The poor dear made a mess in the girl’s loo.”

“I see.” A note was made on a conveniently-placed pad of paper. “How is she faring otherwise?”

“She tolerates the attentions of the other students well enough,” the woman said. “Enjoys it even. Her friend, Miss Thomas, on the other hand, has refused to take pony form ever since her classmates started bringing bows to class. She is a little tomboy. The whole class is adapting as is the wont of small children. The novelty of having nonhumans in their midst is quickly dissipating. One discrepancy of note is also food-related. Licenta consumes about two times what her peers do, resulting in some jealousy when snack time rolls around. The other children can’t understand why she’s getting more than they are, and she is too willing to share -- well, with the exception of when we serve apple slices, anyway. This was easily rectified by using alfalfa sprouts to make up the extra mass. She considers them a treat.”

“Good, good.” Another note was made. “I needn’t remind you that the wizards have reduced the centaurs to an endangered species, confining them to isolated locales. These people need our help, and the Queen means to see that they receive it.”

“Of course, sir.”

“What news of the elder daughter?”

“She still hasn’t changed at school. She is much more reserved than her younger sister. We only have second-hand knowledge of her changing at her friend’s houses, confirming that she is a pegasus like her siblings, and most likely her mother.”

“Any developments on the unicorn child?”

The woman shook her head. “The neighbor remains our only witness to his or his mother’s true nature. He hasn’t been tempted by the alfalfa sprouts offered in his cafeteria but has shown a preference for both apple pie and apple strudel when it’s served. The only thing to mark him as anything other than a normal child is that he has informed his friends that he will be joining his cousin at Hogwarts next year.”

“Have we ascertained how they are keeping their hair within the normal color spectrum?”

“Sir,” another man answered for the woman, “our observer, who had a tour of Canterlot, has reported seeing several ponies with manes that would be unnoticed in the general population. It is safe to say that any ponies integrated into our society would have been chosen from those.”

“That still doesn’t rule out the use of dyes,” another man noted, “or magic.”

“We are too far behind the curve,” said the man in charge. “I want a way to conduct an accurate census of the ponies already among us.”

Inside her herd’s tidy apartment, Nymphadora breathed a sigh of relief, glad to get away from the nightmare, if only for a little while. The cake was a lie. What was supposed to have been a casual lunch was instead an hour-long interrogation, and things had been no better when she had returned to her home. Things had picked up where they had left off when her tormentor had shown up at her doorstep the next day. Luckily, as she suffered the older griffin’s attentions, a polite knock had been a convenient excuse for a break.

Steeling her nerves, she opened the door. "Hello?" she said when she looked down and saw a strange unicorn looking expectantly back at her.

“Oh!” the unicorn broke out into a wide grin upon seeing the griffin answering the door. “You’re taking a form more compatible with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my . . . Mum?”

“I would hope he’s not your mum.” The unicorn continued to grin. “That’s my job. Besides, I’m rather sure he’s the wrong gender.”

“Mum? What are you doing here?” Nymphadora asked.

“Can’t a mother visit her daughter?” Andi asked, waving her hoof down the hallway. “Besides, your father needs your help with something.”

“What?” Nymphadora looked down the passage just in time to witness the notice-me-not spell being dropped, revealing Twilight and a changeling in its true form.

“Hello dear,” the changeling said in her father’s voice. “I haven’t figured out the mechanics yet . . .”

“Eeeeeeeeeeek!” The sound of retreating hooves could be heard further down the hallway.

“. . . and that keeps happening,” Ted Tonks finished.

“Your aunt is ecstatic over having a new source of love honey,” Andi confided. “I swear, she’s become addicted to the stuff.”

“Who is it, Tonks?” Glados said, coming up behind the other griffin to have a look over her shoulder. “Tell them to go away; we’re not finished tweaking your look yet.”

“Tonks?” Andi frowned. “Don’t tell me she’s got you calling her that. Her name is Nymphadora.”

“Mum!” Nymphadora gave a full-bodied cringe.

Glados tilted her head in thought. “Nymphadora? That's a lovely name.”

“No!” Nymphadora muttered, taking several steps backward to allow her family in. “No, no, and no!”

“It’s your name, dear,” Andi said, accepting the invitation.

“Who is it?” Gordon asked, coming to stand next to Nymphadora in a vain attempt to shield her from his mother.

“Hello, Gordon. I’m glad you’re here, I was afraid that I was going to have to have my daughter track you down.”

Gordon’s head rotated sharply as he refocused on the unicorn leading two others into the apartment. “Mrs. Tonks? Er . . . Hello. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Andi beamed.

“You are Nymphadora’s mother?” Glados said, eyeing the unicorn. Then turning her head, she took in the sight of her son standing next to the hen she was grooming to be the perfect match. “Are we doing this?” she asked bluntly.

“You’d better believe we are,” Andi replied, her smile somehow growing wider.

“This isn’t good.” Gordon murmured as Nymphadora groaned.

Grinning, Twilight asked, "Can you feel the love tonight?"

Gordon and Nymphadora looked her in the eye. As one, they flatly said, "No."

Open Book loved her job. Attending to the royal library was a reward unto itself, so much so that she almost felt guilty getting paid for it. She would have gladly given bits for the privilege. Giving a tour to a large group of foals was its own special kind of bliss. She loved helping ponies find the information they sought. It was a pity these foals were not going to access what they wanted, but the lesson wasn’t going to be wasted, and who knew? There may even be an aspiring mage among the bunch.

That was not to say it wasn’t a peculiar assortment of foals. While mixed company wasn’t uncommon, there were actually two bat ponies in the mix, a rare sight indeed, not to mention the white owl that was riding on the back of the blue pegasus colt.

“Here we go,” Open Book said to the foals. “But I’m afraid this is as far as we go today.” She pointed at the extravagantly carved door that barred their progress. “While it is laudable that you wish to know more about teleporting, it is knowledge that isn’t accessible by the general population.”

“Laudable?”

“She means commendable, Scootaloo.”

“Commendable?”

“Er . . . admirable.”

“Well, why didn’t she just say so?”

“Anyway,” Open Book continued. “You see, this door is a test. A simple test, yes, but a test nonetheless. One must have a basic understanding of magical theory to open it. Simple levitation will not work. However, once you’ve put in the time and effort, you’ll be able to access the books in the room beyond. It’ll take a lot of work, but I’m sure that a few of you will master the skills needed to . . .”

“Alohomora.”

*Click*

“And I see one of you already has those skills.” Open Book held out her hoof to bar the progress of the rest of the foals even as she watched the fluorescent orange filly practically gallop into the next chamber. Open Book pulled the door shut with her magic. “I am sorry, but she will be the only one allowed to enter. It is a test for each individual not . . . What are you planning to do with that stick?”

“Alohomora.”

*Click*

“Umm . . . What? How did you do that without a horn?” Open Book closed the door once again after watching an earth pony enter a place not normally accessible by a member of that tribe. “Well, that was unexpected. I think it might be a first. Honestly I’m not sure . . .”

“Alohomora.”

*Click*

“Are you kidding me?” Once again, the door was pulled shut as Open Book turned to address the remaining foals. “Something's not . . . Oh, I see you all have sticks.”

“Alohomora.”

*Click*

“I may not be the smartest mare, but even I can recognize a pattern.”

“Bombar . . .”

Several of the other foals quickly tackled the colt.

“Seamus!”

“What? I can’t let Dean be the only one with a cool fire-based cutie mark!”

Open Book sighed, “Line up. Let’s keep this orderly.”

One of the perks of being a prefect was having access to every room in the dormitory. Percy took full advantage of that to enter one of the twins' trunk unannounced. “I’m off to the village,” he called out, rapidly descending the stairs. “Dainty wanted me to ask if there was . . . What are you doing with Magah?”

One of the twins turned to look at him. “The firsties asked us to keep an eye on her for a while. It seems she will let them out of her sight if we keep her occupied.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Percy clarified. “What is she wearing?”

“She likes playing dress up,” said the other twin.

“And we need to practice our transfiguration,” finished the first.

“Where’s the rest of it?” Percy asked.

“Rest of what?”

“Her outfit,” Percy said.

“That’s it.”

“Oh,” said Percy

. . .

“We should probably feel guilty for this,” said a twin.

“You really should,” said Percy.

“But you have to admit that shade of blue looks good on her,” said the other twin.

“Red!” demanded Magah. “Want red!”

. . .

“We are going to get so much hate for this,” said a twin.

“This is so wrong.”

“So very, very wrong.”

“We should be ashamed.”

“So very, very ashamed.”

“I’ll be right back,” Percy said. “I’m sure one of my roommates has a camera.”

“Worth it!” chorused the twins.

Soon after the sun had been put to rest and the moon called to do its duty, the royal sisters were enjoying some time together in the comfort of their private lunarium. Contentedly, they lay upon several overstuffed cushions as they traded stories about their duties.

“Sister, dear,” Princess Luna asked during a lull. “We see that thou dost enjoy the company of thy pet tonight.”

“Yes,” Princess Celestia acknowledged. “I thought it would be best for her to spend the night here. After all, the foals were just informed that she will not be spiriting them all over the countryside anymore. Hopefully, this will curtail any resentment.”

“A wise precaution.”

“Yes.” Princess Celestia nodded. “It is our hope that this will contain the Crusaders for a couple years at least.”

“Thou were ever the optimist.”

“They are but children.” Celestia chuckled. “Rambunctious, but they do have limits.”

“We are looking forward to the day when should a problem arise, we can just point them at it and command them to fix it,” Luna confided.

“'Fix' being a relative term,” Celestia said.

“They shall discover the drawbacks of developing a reputation for doing the impossible,” Luna said wisely.

“Still, while doing the difficult is impressive, I suspect that doing the impossible will take even them some time.” Celestia chuckled.

“Where, on that scale, dost thou rank finding a new method of transportation?”

“Don’t tell me that you are already buying into that reputation,” Celestia said as she spotted Raven Inkwell waving a hoof at her to get her attention. “Yes, Raven?”

“Your highness,” said the unicorn. “I think this would be the proper time to inform you of a report I have received on several foals bypassing Oncoming Storm’s door in the library. The descriptions match some familiar faces, so it may be relevant to this conversation.”

Celestia blinked at Raven a few times before turning her attention back to her sister. “That doesn’t mean . . .”

“The basic treatises concerning teleportation are kept behind that door, are they not?” Luna interrupted.

“True, but teleportation isn’t something you can look at the theory for and then poof, you’re off. We are still looking at a couple years' grace here,” Celestia countered.

“There still does exist the question of how the clever little foals didst arrive at our library,” Luna reminded her.

Celestia sighed, “Obviously, they owled themselves. Besides, you can go to any bookstore and purchase a tome on how to teleport. Oncoming Storm’s door really is rather useless if you stop to think about it.”

“I disagree,” Luna said. “A pony must invest either time or money if they dost wish that knowledge. As to the difficulty of teleportation, we suggest a wager. If, by this time next week, one of their number hast a cutie mark declaring their competence in the art of teleportation, thou shalt return the bag of delectable chocolate covered espresso beans that Ambassador Heartstrings had gifted us and thou hast so rudely confiscated.”

“One of their number with a . . . You have yourself a bet, and if your premonition does not come to pass, then I shall burn the sweets, and you shall not ask for replacements.”

“Thou dost drive a hard and unfair bargain.” Luna pouted. “One bag verses a lifetime of deprivation. We detect disparity.”

“Very well, if you win, not only will you receive the bag back, but I will never interfere with your acquisition of chocolate covered espresso beans again.”

“Then, as we hast heard spoken, thou hast a deal.”

“Shall we add my acquisition of fire whisky to the wager?” Celestia asked hopefully.

“No.”

“Luna,” Celestia whined. “That is hardly . . .” but that was as far as she got before there was a flash of green flames and she found herself with a faceful of human foal. After bouncing off the Princess of the Day, said foal landed on the pillows with a plop, only to stare up in shock.

The princesses looked down and returned the favor.

“Um,” the filly ventured. “April broke the rule about tickling a sleeping dragon.”

The princesses continued to stare.

“Am I dead?” the human foal asked meekly.

“What in the name of Merlin is going on in here?” Professor McGonagall demanded as she entered the common room. She was met by the sight of the male students being cornered by the female students. There wasn’t a boy in sight who wasn’t sporting visible red welts. From the way the boys stood, it was obvious that they had received far more punishment than what was visible. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“It’s just some basic instruction in proper behavior,” Fay growled.

“Just some basic instruction?” Professor McGonagall said in disbelief. “I could hear the screaming all the way in my office. We are not barbarians. Surely your basic instruction could be performed without so many stinging hexes.”

“Magah pretty!”

“Good lord! What is she wearing?” Professor McGonagall gasped.

“The boys were practicing their transfiguration.” Fay informed her.

“Right.” Professor McGonagall turned to leave the same way she had come. “Carry on, then.”

As she settled down behind her desk, the screams continued unabated. Just before she cast a silencing charm, Professor McGonagall heard the boys call out, "Still worth it!"

The earth filly reread the letter recently delivered to her by an owl, gritting her teeth all the while. She was not a happy pony.

Dear Dull Roar:

My name is Fay Dunbar. I am a prefect for Gryffindor house. Let me begin by expressing my regrets that my first communication with you is under these circumstances. In fact, I would have considered the matter closed if not for a conversation with Apple Bloom. She has emphatically insisted that I write to you to inform of and explain a recent incident in my house. Apple Bloom has also assured me that there is no chance that you will not find this letter infuriating. For that, you have my apologies as de facto alpha mare.

There has been a conflict between my responsibility to administer punishment and the rights afforded the Weasley twins by virtue of their membership in your herd, of which I have only recently been informed. According to Apple Bloom, I have unwittingly committed an atrocious breach of protocol with the recent punishment administered to the twins’ persons. Rest assured that no permanent damage was inflicted. Our school nurse promises that the welts will recede in a few days. They will not be healed earlier since Madam Pomfrey agrees that the punishment was warranted. I have been instructed to inform you that such corporal punishment is extremely uncommon and is almost unheard of in this day and age. However, the punishment was proportionate to the infraction.

I fear I must put this into perspective. The majority of the male population of my house has also shared in the punishment. It is only the novel circumstance of herd agreements that compels me to write you on the subject. Apple Bloom has been very vocal over the cultural incongruity. She has gone so far as to promise to use me as a projectile if I so much as consider doing the same to one of her colts without informing her first. She has made it amply clear that it is her right and responsibility to deal with situations such as this for her herd. She also informs me that the same applies to you and the twins and that I should have contacted you to see that proper punishment was administered.

I fear this is where cultural conflict comes into play. While, in your culture, I may have acted at levels worthy of a blood feud, in mine, I was well within boundaries. However, in this case, both cultures must be taken into account. That is why I am writing to offer a formal and sincere apology. It was not and is not my intention to initiate hostilities. It is my hope that we can come to a mutual understanding and move past this incident.

Please let me stress that the twins have not taken permanent damage nor were they alone in receiving repercussions for their actions. In fact, I have already been in contact with Dainty Lace, as her stallion Percy was also involved. That meeting reinforced the importance of writing to you with all due haste. It is also why I take sole responsibility for the punishment administered; the other females were acting under my guidance.

Again, I respectfully remind you that this is an unintentional cultural clash. I also remind you that the twins have grown up in and are familiar with the culpable culture. Let it be known that I have every intention to honor your customs and norms. No disrespect or insult was intended.

I ask for your forgiveness and understanding. Please do not let this be a reason for conflict.

Furthermore, I hereby pledge to contact you if a similar situation arises, prior to any punishment being administered.

Yours sincerely,

Fay Dunbar

P.S. After having Apple Bloom proofread this letter, I must update my description from de facto alpha mare to a status similar to deputy sheriff’ A minor thing maybe, but it does highlight that there are cultural differences that we still have not uncovered.

No, the filly was decidedly not happy as she reread the letter.

The store clerk was not unfamiliar with famous people entering his store, let alone someone who had been dominating the airwaves recently. The one who entered his shop fit that category. It was a shock that she entered without any type of bodyguard or visible security of any sort. Still, she had an easygoing, friendly smile, marking her as someone he would love to get to know better. However, he was well aware that that wasn’t likely to happen.

“Good evening, miss.” He smiled back at her. “How may I help you?”

At his words, her smile only grew wider, proving that she wasn’t overwhelmed by her fame. “Hello,” she said. “I need ten pounds of chocolate covered espresso beans.”

The clerk replied, "You're in luck." Gesturing to a neatly arranged stack of dainty baskets, he said, "We have a gift pack going for just under ten quid."

Puzzled, the woman asked, "Quid?"

"Pounds sterling."

"I meant pounds in weight," said the woman.

“Ten pounds?” he asked in shock. “Why on Earth would you need ten pounds of expresso beans?”

“I never said anything about Earth.” She ran her hand through her distinctive aqua and white hair. “Sybill just sent me a letter saying that I was going to need to send them to Equestria for the next solar flare.”

Chapter 12: Fences, Family and Furniture

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Wild Yeast was not the Muffin Mare. Aside from his total lack of gender dysphoria, his bustling bakery managed much more than mere muffins. He was a purveyor of pastries and other baked goods to stores and restaurants throughout Canterlot. Thus, in order to have product ready in time for their openings, his workday had to start in the wee hours of the morning.

While the bulk of his profits came from his business customers, the zoning laws required that he have a retail presence at his bakery, so he maintained a small café with counter service. The store was more for appearances than anything else. There would be days when only the local constabulary would grace the counter, eager for a shot of sugar and a cup of black wakefulness. While the retail side was more of a hobby for him, he kept the store tidy and decently-stocked as a matter of pride.

Days off were a luxury he could seldom afford. Unless arrangements had been made well in advance, he and his crew would arrive for work under Luna's moon, regardless of how prepared they might be. The bulk of the tasks could be done by rote, allowing them to be productive while their minds wandered. More often than he'd care to admit, Wild Yeast had mornings that seemed to be more dream than reality. This was one of them.

The absurdity had started shortly after he'd unlocked the dining area. Wild Yeast had been placing half a tray of cherry tarts next to a lone tray of chocolate muffins when an owl had dropped onto the counter. The stallion had blinked in amazement; the door and windows had been closed. Before he could recover from his surprise, the owl had nudged a letter over to him. It was an order for four of the muffins. Not knowing what else to do, he had placed the order in a to go box and tied it with a bit of twine. The bird had hooted at him and dropped a few coins on the counter before picking up the package in its talons and taking flight. Somehow, it and its payload had disappeared mid-flap. Bewildered, Wild Yeast had examined the coins. They were silver and copper, rather than the familiar gold of an Equestrian bit.

He was still puzzling over the whole encounter when he reemerged from the back with a tray of banana nut muffins. To his surprise, there was another owl with yet another letter. This one wanted two chocolate muffins and four cherry tarts. With a shaky horn, Wild Yeast filled that order, and, like its predecessor, the bird took the box of food after leaving some coins.

His next trip from the back saw yet another owl waiting. This one bore a letter requesting a half dozen of the banana nut muffins. After placing the ginger rolls he had been carrying in the display case, he rushed to fill another to go box. That task hadn’t been completed when yet another bird arrived with a demand for the ginger rolls. This time, when the bird deposited its gold coin, it stopped to pick up several of the silver and copper coins he'd already collected. Since the new coin was a different color than the others, Wild Yeast could only assume it was making change.

That had been the template of his morning. Every time he brought out a tray, it wouldn’t be very long before an owl came with a letter requesting something from his displayed goods. It became so hectic that he had his apprentices make extra just to keep up with the birds’ demands. With no clue of the value of the new coins, he was unsure of the impact this would have on his bottom line.

He was just filling an order for two dozen chocolate chip muffins when the mare who ran the shop next door to his own entered, presumably for her usual.

“Good morning, Mystic Book,” the frazzled stallion called out. “Take a seat; I’ll have a batch of croissants fresh from the oven in just a few minutes.”

“Oui, thank you,” said the mare as she watched a bird disappear with its burden. Strangely enough, she didn’t seem surprised by the sight.

That clinched it; this had to be a dream.

Fred and George Weasley made their way down the stairs to the common room. For once, it was easy to discern which was which since they were each favoring different body parts. The visible welts on their faces were also distinctive, making it impossible for them to easily imitate each other, not that they weren’t planning on using glamours to facilitate their oft-used ruse. The challenge factor had just been raised a few notches.

They were surprised to find the seventh-year prefect waiting for them.

“Fred, George,” Fay said, motioning for them to come over to attend her. “A few quick words, please.”

“That depends . . .” said George.

“. . . on whether or not stinging hexes are involved,” Fred finished.

“We are past that,” Fay said, “for now.”

George started, “Then we don’t see . . .”

“. . . why not,” Fred finished.

“It won’t take long,” Fay said. “I just wanted to let you know that I sent the alpha mare of your herd a letter informing her of your foolhardiness.”

The twins stared wordlessly at the prefect.

“In the future, when, not if, you cross the line, I shall be contacting her before punishment is issued,” Fay continued.

The twins continued to stare.

“This shall not apply to the loss of points or detention,” Fay said.

The twins continued to stare.

“or the minor use of stinging hexes.”

Yet more staring was accompanied by some flinches.

“But anything more than that, she will be contacted,” Fay finished.

The stares continued.

“Do you understand?” Fay asked.

The twins nodded dumbly in acknowledgment.

“Good,” Fay said. “Good talk. I’m happy that we understand one another.”

The twins continued to stare.

“I’ll be going now,” Fay said. “I have other duties to attend to.” She then made her way out the portrait portal and was soon gone from sight.

Fred turned to his twin and asked, “We’re in a herd?”

“That is some critical news.” George replied.

There was a pregnant pause.

“I feel like someone should have told us,” George said.

“Or somepony,” Fred added.

“There is that,” George agreed.

“To be fair, Fay just told us,” Fred said.

“The word ‘belated’ comes to mind,” George added.

“There is that. Right?” said Fred.

Silence marked another pregnant pause.

“Any ideas on how we can take advantage of this?” Fred asked.

“No, I’ve been too busy wondering how this is going to come back to bite us in the bum,” George answered.

“Hopefully it’ll wait until after the welts heal," Fred quipped.

Professor McGonagall sighed as she looked down at the two first-years before her on the other side of her desk. “When I summon a student, is it too much to ask for them to come alone?”

“Yes ma’am,” Apple Bloom replied. “If’n it’s one o' mah herd, Ah’ll be there as well.”

Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, Professor McGonagall said, “Miss Bloom, this is a delicate matter for Mr. Longbottom alone. If he wishes to share with you after the fact, that is his choice, not yours.”

“I don’t mind her being here,” Neville said.

“Mr. Longbottom,” Professor McGonagall said, “the subject I need to discuss pertains to your parents.”

Neville blanched before sending Apple Bloom a worried look. “I . . . I . . . I . . .” he sputtered.

“Now, Miss Bloom, if you wouldn’t mind waiting in the corridor, we shan’t be long.”

“She . . .” Neville squared his shoulders and stood taller. “She can stay.”

Professor McGonagall studied the young boy for a second. “Very well, Mr. Longbottom,” she said. “I have a simple message to relay. Your Gran has contacted me. It being the weekend, she has decided to come collect you this morning for a visit. You are expected to be prepared to depart within the hour.”

“Yes ma’am.” Neville gulped.

“As you can see, this is nothing nefarious,” Professor McGonagall said to Apple Bloom. “You may return to your friends; your presence is not required.”

Apple Bloom took in the tense posture of her colt. “Ah don’t think so ma’am,” she affirmed. “Ah kin see that Neville needs the support of his herd.”

“I’m afraid that you need permission to leave the castle,” Professor McGonagall said. “We have covered that very subject recently; I trust we do not need to revisit it.”

“No ma’am,” Apple Bloom said. “Ah know we were given permission to accompany our herdmates when our presence is needed.”

“Yes, that was a peculiar clause that your guardians insisted on including.” Professor McGonagall mused. “However, I assure you that it shan’t be needed in this case.”

“Neville don’t have ta face anything alone,” Apple Bloom insisted.

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall sighed. “I see you are determined. However, I warn you that Mr. Longbottom’s guardian has the final say in the matter. That is nonnegotiable.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Apple Bloom said. “Ah’ll get tha others.”

“No,” Professor McGonagall said. “This shall not be turned into a major undertaking. Not to mention only four of your group have that exception.”

“But . . .”

“Do not push your luck, Miss Bloom.”

“Yes’m.”

“Be at the front door in thirty minutes.” Professor McGonagall dismissed the children. “Mr. Filch shall escort you to the gates to meet with Regent Longbottom.”

The members of the Crusaders looked up as two of their number descended the stairs into the trunk.

“How’d it go?” Luna was the first to ask.

“Neville needs ta go with his Gran ta visit his parents,” Apple Bloom answered.

“She didn’t say that,” Neville protested. “How’d you guess?”

“She did too,” Apple Bloom corrected.” She jus’ didn’t say it with one sentence.”

Neville just gave Apple Bloom a gloomy look.

“Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom said, “you and Harry Potter will be going with.”

“You don’t need to,” Neville said. “I can handle it. This isn’t the first time.”

“Ah kin see that y'all kin use the help,” Apple Bloom said, brooking no argument

“Don’t worry Neville,” Harry said. “We’re here for you.”

“This isn't the first time,” Neville repeated.

“Give it up,” Scootaloo broke in. “The last time you handled it alone was the last time you’ll handle it alone.”

“I’ll have Gran,” Neville said softly.

“And you’ll have us, too,” Harry said. “When are we leaving?”

“Head down ta the front door, right now,” Apple Bloom said. “Y'all don’t have much time.”

“Okay.” Scootaloo and Harry accompanied Neville up the stairs, the discussion closed.

“An’ how is it going with the project?” Apple Bloom looked in the corner where two girls were on the floor, poring over a book.

Sweetie commented without looking up. “This is harder than we thought.”

“There are a lot of prerequisites that we haven’t covered yet,” Hermione added. “This is going to take some time.”

Apple Bloom sighed. “Is there anything we can do ta speed it up?”

“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” Hermione said. “There are all kinds of safeties built into the spell and the book specifically warns against taking shortcuts.

Parvati looked over Sweetie’s shoulder. “It doesn’t look too hard,” she commented.

“That’s just the final spell structure,” Sweetie said. “There’s a lot of theory to go with it, as well as exercises for perfecting the proper mindset.”

“Is all of that necessary?” Parvati asked, studying the spell matrix. “Can’t we just use this and go?”

“I’m going to have to agree with Parvati,” Dean said. “You don’t need to know how to put an engine together to start a car.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” Hermione huffed. “This spell demands the proper mindset, something like that doesn’t happen overnight, especially since it’s so counterintuitive with how we normally perceive reality.”

“How hard could it be?” asked Seamus. “We learned Bombarda and we aren’t supposed to be able to handle that for a couple years yet.”

“You mean, you learned Bombarda,” Ginny corrected grumpily. “The rest of us haven’t managed so much as a pop yet, not even Hermione or Sweetie.”

“The principle's the same.” Seamus shrugged.

“This is more complicated,” Sweetie said. “We can do it, but it is going to take time.”

“Complaining don’t git tha chores done,” Apple Bloom said. “It’s time to get our hooves dirty. How do we start?”

“Practicing the mindset.” Hermione said “Basically, it consists of thinking of yourself in two places at once and then correcting yourself by placing yourself in only one spot.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard,” Dean said from his place on the couch.

“It’s an oversimplification,” Hermione huffed, “and it’s harder than it sounds.”

“That still doesn’t sound too hard,” Parvati said. “I do that all of the time.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ron.

“Padma,” Parvati clarified.

“Oh,” Lavender said. “I can see how that would be a head start.”

Hermione rocked back on her heels, placing her hands on her hips. “That’s only part of it. You have to think of yourself in the other spot when you pull your thoughts back and you have to keep the spell matrix in mind while you do it. It takes years of practice, hard years of practice.”

Parvati stood up staring forward; her eyes went glassy as she concentrated.

“Don’t even think of it!” Hermione barked. “Besides, you can’t apparate inside of H . . .”

*Pop!*

“No, that still doesn’t . . ."

*Pop!*

". . . sound too hard . . ."

*Pop!*

". . . at all."

The other stared, astonished, as Parvati had thrice instantaneously disappeared from one part of the room and reappeared in a different part of the room, finally stopping at the other side of the room, glowing slightly.

“I think that counts as more than a head start,” Luna observed.

Hermione demanded, “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

“No,” Parvati admitted.

Hermione threw her arms in the air, shrieking in frustration.

“Calm down, Hermione,” Apple Bloom said soothingly. “She jus’ proved we kin do it.”

“That was dangerous.” Hermione gritted her teeth.

“You did say there were safeties on the spell,” Abigail pointed out.

“We didn’t know how it would react to the Hogwarts' wards!” Hermione shouted.

“Wait a minute,” Sweetie said, narrowing her eyes at Parvati as the glow faded. “Take pony shape for a second.”

“Okay.” Parvati shrugged and shrank. There was something distinctly different about the pegasus.

“Arrrrgh!”

*Thump!*

*Crack!*

Lavender looked at the couch that Apple Bloom had just assaulted with her forehead. “We really need to move up learning Reparo,” she commented.

“Someone stop Sweetie!” Seamus snapped. “I think she’s going to attempt the same thing on the wall.”

Hagrid had seen a lot of interesting things in his lifetime. His experience with the lesser-known creatures of the world was particularly acute. Some of the wonders he had witnessed would elicit an extreme reaction. Being locked in a room with a lovable graphorn was either the stuff of a bed-wetting nightmare, or the subject of an equally messy dream. For Hagrid, the number of things falling in the former category were vanishingly small.

There were still things that the half-giant found disquieting. The scene he found fell in that tiny category. He had been informed that someone was attempting to force their way onto the castle grounds via the main gate. As keeper of the keys, it was his duty to investigate. Of all the things he imagined that could be so emphatically triggering the wards, three small girls collectively using the remains of the main gate as a battering ram was not one of them. The four other girls who acted as an audience were an even greater surprise.

“'Ere now!” He barked. “What do you think yer doing?”

The girls stopped what they were doing and gave him their undivided attention. There may have been traces of guilt on their faces but the predominate emotion he detected was anger.

“There’s a wall,” one of the girls whined, “an invisible wall.”

“That there is the wards,” Hagrid said. “You must be right mad at someone if you’re tripping them. Yer right lucky they’re on their lowest setting or you’d be spending time in the hospital wing.”

“We need to get to the castle,” another one of the girls said.

“Too right you do.” Hagrid took the remains of the gate from the three holding it. “Yer not supposed to be leaving the grounds, now are you? What’s going through yer heads? Now git going, I’ll fix this.”

“We can’t,” the first girl whined. “The invisible wall.”

“Well, yer just going ta have ta leave yer anger behind, ain’t cha,” Hagrid said.

“It isn’t that simple,” a girl with bright blue hair said.

“Sure, it is,” Hagrid said. “Look you didn’t hear it from me, but with all of you new students coming in the middle of the year, you weren’t added to the wards in the normal manner. That means you have a few hoops to jump through in cases like this. Just focus on not wanting to harm anyone in the castle. That ain’t proper anyway. Whatever has yer knickers in a twist isn’t worth hurting no one.”

“But . . .”

“There ain’t no 'buts'.” Hagrid hauled the pieces of the gate into position, and the gate started repairing itself as soon as they were in place. “I can see that whatever it is was enough for accidental magic. Little slips like you wouldn’t be picking up this here gate otherwise. You have two choices: ye can calm down an' maybe talk out yer differences all peaceful like or you can come with me into the forest. There is a deadfall tree there needing taken care of. A few hours of good hard labor is sure to give you time ta cool off.”

“We have good reason to be angry,” insisted one of the girls with pink locks.

“Judging by yer hair, I'd wager you ran afoul of the Weasley twins. 'Taint but a harmless prank, easily fixed. You lot wouldn’t be first to fall to their sense o' humor, now would you?”

“Prank?”

“They are known for it, ain’t they.” Hagrid said. “Now, which of you will be helping me chop up some wood?”

Sighing, the girl with seafoam green hair took a few hesitant steps forward, crossing the ward boundaries without issue.

“See now, it weren’t that hard,” Hagrid said approvingly with a wide grin.

The girl with bright blue hair tried next. There was a flash of light and she was thrown back ten feet, landing on her back.

“Looks like I’ll be having help after all,” Hagrid commented.

“I want to try again,” groaned the blue haired girl.

"Then you better be leaving yer anger back there,” Hagrid said.

The green haired girl called back, "It's time to be icy, Icy, not hot."

There were no more problems as the girls crossed the ward line and Hagrid shooed them towards the castle.

Berryshine was of two minds on her current situation. She couldn’t say that she was enthusiastic when her new father had talked her mother into her going to the same school he did. She couldn’t say that she had been upset either. It wouldn’t be farfetched to say that she agreed because she had nothing better to do. The only annoying thing was the addition to her name that she now had to remember to acknowledge.

She had felt trepidation at the thought of leaving her friends behind. The thought of having to make new friends was even more daunting. It was, therefore, more than just a pleasant surprise that several of her schoolmates had also shown up on the first day. They weren’t her normal social circle; after all, Rumble, Spike and Button Mash were colts. Lily was quiet but likeable, and she’d spent some time in her company back in Ponyville. Then there was Dinky; you’d have to be some kind of deranged pony not to adore Dinky. All said, she wasn’t crazy or desperate enough to hang out with the Crusaders.

That day had dawned with their first day off from classes, something she had, surprisingly, been enjoying immensely. Thus, the occupants of the muggleborn tent had found themselves with free time -- well free time after the impromptu house meeting where it had been emphatically drilled into their heads that tickling Spike when he napped on a couch would no longer be tolerated. The scare over the near death of one of their own had been repeatedly highlighted. Supposedly, dragonfire transportation was not supposed to work on living creatures, and the Princess didn’t appreciate having couches dropped on her head. That was good to know. But seriously, who knew Spike could breathe fire in human form? That probably had something to do with how Edna managed to ride the flames.

Once they had suffered through the scolding, the group had broken up. Rumble was the first to leave, with Lily in tow. They and several of the other colts headed off to watch Quippass practice. Truthfully, trading quips was something at which Rumble exceled, but Berryshine was surprised that Lily considered it interesting. Spike had mentioned something about having his rulebooks in his saddlebags before he and Ralph had set off seeking Draco. Whatever they were up to, Berryshine wasn’t interested.

Thus, she had found herself wandering the castle with Button Mash, Dinky, and her human, Dudley. They must have been a pathetic sight, since it hadn’t been long before they had been invited up to the Gryffindor common room to play games. Color Berryshine surprised, but it hadn’t taken Button Mash two steps in before he gravitated toward the squat arcade game around which several other colts had gathered. Actually, there were some fillies mixed in with that group, and Dudley had followed Button Mash soon after.

Nor did it take to long for one of the prefects to declare button Mash would be held to the Lavender time limits, whatever those were.

As for herself and Dinky, they had been drafted into a game called Risk. The rules were simple, but it was captivating nonetheless and Berryshine found that Dinky had a competitive streak, as well as being ruthless as far as little pieces of plastic were concerned. It was actually more than a little scary.

Yes, Berryshine was of two minds. She hadn’t seen her mother in several days, but at the same time, she was having fun, making friends, and learning interesting things.

It was a somber group that gathered in the Janus Thickey Ward of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Well, 'gathered' was not quite accurate. Two of the children were keeping their distance from the family out of respect. If either of these two were the sort for tears, then the waterworks would have been in full effect. As it was, they were hugging each other as they watched their herdmate and his Gran reconnect with two loved ones who weren’t even aware that they were there. That too was not quite accurate since the woman had handed Neville a candy wrapper. At some level, she had recognized her son.

There was no doubt in the children's minds that the small piece of trash was more valuable than all of the property they owned in Canterlot.

There was no doubt that the visit took a lot out of Neville.

There also was no doubt that he wouldn't miss it for anything.

“Ooooh, what’s that? That’s not like any wrackspurt I’ve ever seen before.”

Harry and Scootaloo looked at each other before looking up. “Luna?”

“Not that wrackspurts are easy to see without spectrespecs, but this place is filled with them.”

“What?” asked Harry.

“There.” Luna waved a hoof at the Longbottom family. “I don’t think that’s a wrackspurt, it’s too big and bumpy.”

“I don’t see anything,” Harry said, squinting in confusion as he adjusted his glasses.

“Really?” Luna sounded surprised. “I’ve been able to see them easier ever since I started Hogwarts. I assume it is due to practicing magic more.”

“Miss Lovegood.” Neville’s Gran had caught sight of the little pony perched on the ceiling. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on my herdmates,” Luna answered.

“How did you get here?” Neville’s Gran demanded curtly. “I was only aware of the two tagalongs.”

“Parvati teleported me,” Luna stated. “We were all worried about Neville.”

“There was no need to worry,” Neville’s Gran said brusquely. “That doesn’t explain how . . .”

Her words were interrupted when Luna launched herself off the ceiling and darted through the space between Neville’s parents’ heads.

“Miss Lovegood!” Neville’s Gran gasped.

“Mmm?” Luna queried. “mmm mm?”

“What are you doing?” Neville’s Gran demanded.

Luna swallowed. “I don’t know,” she replied, “but it felt like the right thing to do.”

“This disturbance is most unbecoming. You are the Minister’s daughter; I expect you to behave accordingly,” Neville’s Gran snapped. “Once again, how did you manage to follow us here?”

“Parvati teleported me,” Luna repeated.

“And how, pray tell did she manage that?”

“I don’t know,” Luna admitted.

“And how do you plan on getting back?”

“I suppose I could floo to the Three Broomsticks and fly from there,” Luna said, unperturbed.

Augusta Longbottom wasn’t one for pinching the bridge of her nose but she felt like now was a good time to give it a go. “And where is this Parvati friend of yours?”

“I don’t know.” Luna shrugged. “Most likely back at the castle.”

“So, she apparated you here and then went back?”

“No,” Luna said. “She sent me by myself.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Neville’s Gran snapped. “You can’t apparate someone by themselves. You have to go with.”

“Oh?” Luna said. “I believe that was what Hermione was trying to tell Parvati before she sent me.”

“She couldn’t have sent you by yourself,” Neville’s Gran stiffly decreed. “That’s impossible.”

“It is?” Luna said. “Then I suppose I oughtn’t tell Parvati just in case that causes her to stop doing it.”

“We obviously picked the wrong time to leave the castle,” Neville murmured. “We missed all the fun.”

Augusta gave her grandson a shocked look.

“Did we miss anything else?” Harry asked.

“Parvati got her cutie mark,” Luna said helpfully.

“It seems to be Parvati’s day,” Neville said before turning to his mother. “She’s one of the herdmates I’ve been telling you about, Mum. For that matter, so is Luna here.”

“Oh, we also took Sweetie to Madam Pomfrey for head trauma.” Luna continued. “She’s another herdmate. Don’t worry, Madam Pomfrey said she’ll be fine in a little while.”

“How did Sweetie get head trauma?” Harry asked.

“Her head isn’t as hard as Apple Bloom’s.” Luna stated. “Neither was the couch, for that matter.”

“Enough of this foolishness,” Augusta said. “I shall be returning you to the school forthwith. Rest assured; I shall be having words with your head of house.” With those words, she began ushering the children from the ward. Somehow, she managed to overlook Scootaloo, who hadn’t moved from her position next to the wall.

After watching the others leave, Scootaloo approached the two adults still sitting unresponsive in their chairs. A look of determination crossed her face as she spoke. “I know it’s not your fault and I know you don’t mean to hurt him, but you are. For Neville’s sake . . .” Scootaloo turned to leave and catch up with the others. “. . . you need to wake up.”

Anyone watching the room would have said that nothing had changed -- anyone except Luna.

Chapter 13: That's Not P... Never Mind

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Professor Minerva McGonagall was doing her best to quell her mounting panic. While years of teaching had not made her insensitive to the regular hospitalizations of students, it had lent more than a little efficiency to her approach toward the inevitability of injuries that would cripple a muggle. It was a very good thing that magic could easily right most of the wrongs that students would inflict upon themselves and others, inadvertently or otherwise. She imagined that her response to broken bones would be comparable to a muggle teacher’s response to a minor cut or scrape. It was almost ironic that the skills of their mediwitch made sticking plasters obsolete in her school.

If truth were being told, the earlier report of one of her lions being treated for literally using her head to open a wall received little more than a raised eyebrow and a shake of the head. There was no danger that any lasting harm would result from that mishap. The only problem was that no lasting lesson was likely instilled, either. Children could be so hard headed in more than one sense of the word.

No, it took something drastic to elicit the level of alarm she was currently suppressing. A patronus from Pomfrey that had urgently said, “Minerva, I need you in the ward, now!” easily fell within that category. Though her face remained stony, as she hurried through the halls toward her destination, something in her mannerism must have broadcast her distress. After all, she hadn't said a word when she had brushed past Flitwick, yet he had immediately trailed after her. It was a minor pity that his short stature and unfortunate limitation of two legs left him quickly losing ground.

The final obstacle to her destination should have offered some hindrance to her mission. Reality argued that heavy oak-reinforced doors coupled with the lack of appropriate appendages would mean that she had to change back to her birth form to continue. At that point, reality would have been vigorously reminded that she was not only a witch; she was also a mistress of transfiguration, and there were times she did not need niceties such as a wand. She proved reality wrong when the appearance of a small glass marble announced the notable absence of heavy wooden doors. This led to reality proving it could be both petty and vindictive when said marble found itself rolling under a speeding cat’s paw. This led to Minerva proving that she could do a convincing impression of a furry bowling ball.

The witnesses to the entrance were not left with any time to doubt their eyes when Professor McGonagall stood up in her human form, mid-roll, with only a few hasty steps forward to cancel her momentum. “Poppy! What’s wrong? Why are all of my lions here?” A quick glance around compelled an addendum. “What’s wrong with Miss Patil?” Those may have been the words spoken, but everyone clearly heard, “I meant to do that.” After all, Professor McGonagall did not prance. Cat animagus or not, Professor McGonagall did not prance.

It was a testament to the seriousness of the situation that Madam Pomfrey replied in stride. “Miss Patil is fine. She is suffering from magical exhaustion after attempting side-along apparition without the side-along. She shall wake in a couple hours. It is her passenger that we need to worry about.”

Ignoring the concerned stares from the rest of the Gryffindor first-years, Minerva asked. “What do you mean?”

“For all we know, Miss Lovegood has been splinched a hundred times or more between here and St. Mungo’s,” Madam Pomfrey replied. “That’s assuming Miss Patil managed to get the direction correct.”

Despite her normally quick and agile mind, Professor McGonagall had managed to outrun it. “What? You can’t apparate inside Hogwarts.”

“That truth is now suspect,” Madam Pomfrey said. “In the meantime, Miss Lovegood needs to be found.”

It was the Gryffindors being treated to the sight of a speechless Professor McGonagall that greeted Professor Flitwick when he came barreling into the ward. Somewhere along the way, he had acquired a tail in the form of teaching assistant Berrytwist glued to his backside. “What’s going on?” he demanded, breaking the silence.

That was all of the prompting Professor McGonagall needed. Several long strides brought her to the ward's fireplace where she grabbed some floo powder and activated its emergency functions. “St. Mungo’s,” she called out before disappearing into the green flames.

. . . you need to wake up.

Despite appearances to the contrary, everyone who passed noticed the seven girls who were wandering the corridors of Hogwarts Castle. Their unusually vibrant hair colors barely warranted attention. After all, any of a multitude of charms could produce that effect. Their obvious unfamiliarity with their surroundings was hardly unusual among the unfamiliar faces that had joined at the beginning of the term. What stood out was the aura of determination that they projected. The more experienced castle residents had quickly decided that they could help the most by staying out of the way. Even the portraits were wary of starting a conversation, lest the septet vaporize them with the intensity of their glares.

“How are we going to find them?” Random Order whined.

“Don’t worry; we’ll track them down,” said another. “Just keep your eyes peeled for somepony we know.”

“I’m getting hungry,” complained one of their number.

“You shouldn’t have skipped lunch, Sad Smile”

“It wasn’t that important at the time.” Sad Smile pouted.

“We’ll eat after we get the twins to sign the paperwork,” Dull Roar said. “Until then, keep focused.”

“They didn’t want to sign before,” Open Secret reminded everypony.

“We aren’t leaving until they do,” Soft Rock asserted firmly.

“We can snuggle them into it,” Minor Miracle suggested.

“Just don’t be too enthusiastic,” Dull Roar warned.

“I can’t help it.” Minor sulked.

“Why don’t we just ask somepony?” Random Order asked. “Wandering around is getting us nowhere.”

“All right,” Dull Roar said, stomping up to a couple of human fillies. “Excuse me, could you help us please?”

“Of course, I’d be glad to,” one of the human fillies said. “You look lost.”

“We’re trying to find somepony.” Sad Smile talked over whatever Dull Roar was about to say. “We were wondering if you could take us to the twins.”

“Ah,” the other human filly said. “That’s where I remember seeing you. You were with the Weasley twins on the platform. Hello, my name is Terisa. What’s yours?”

“I’m Dull Roar. This is Open Secret, Minor Miracle, Icy Hot, Random Order, Soft Rock, and Sad Smile,” she said, pointing to each girl in turn.

“I thought as much,” Terisa said. “Apple Bloom did mention that we might be seeing you soon. You’re not still too mad, are you?”

“The wards wouldn’t have let us in if we were,” Open Secret said.

“Bounced off them, did you?” asked Terisa knowingly.

“A few times,” Sad Smile admitted. “Can you take us to the twins?”

“Nobody knows where the twins get to in their spare time,” the first human filly stated. “When those two don’t want to be found, you can forget about looking for them.”

A sea of dejected faces met that statement.

“Not to worry,” Terisa said. “It’s near on tea time. They’ll be showing up soon for a bite.”

“Thank Celestia,” said Minor with nods from the rest of her herd.

“So, yer all ponies?” asked the second human filly. “You’re going to be attending Hogwarts? I don’t remember seeing you in the Great Hall before.”

“We weren’t planning on it,” said Open Secret. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“My mistake, I’m Lucy.”

“How’d you get in then?” asked Terisa. “If you aren’t students, then a faculty member needs to let you in, and I doubt any of them would let you wander around unaccompanied.”

“The big human let us in after we left our anger behind,” said Icy Hot. “I’ll admit, we are getting a lot less hassle than I was expecting.”

“Anyone who can rein in the twins is welcome here,” Lucy stated. “I heard them muttering about needing to pull off a big prank; they are tired of being upstaged by the firsties.”

“Was that colt wearing a live octopus as a hat?” asked Soft Rock, looking after the small group that had just passed the chatting girls.

“Yeah, we have some new pets in Gryffindor,” Lucy said.

“You were saying something about food and the twins?” Sad Smile prompted.

. . . you need to wake up.

Professor McGonagall's search came to an abrupt end as she nearly bowled Luna over when exiting the floo. A few sharp words immediately summoned a splinching specialist, who wasted no time in starting an examination of the victim of the apparent aberrant apparation.

“She has all of her parts,” announced the mediwizard as he swept his wand over Luna. “You are much too young to be attempting apparation,” he remonstrated the young girl as he worked. “I am going to have to file an incident report. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“I wasn’t using apparation,” Luna corrected. “Parvati teleported me.”

“I have told you,” Regent Longbottom said from where she stood a few feet away. “You cannot apparate someone else without going with them.”

Professor McGonagall sighed. “Apparently, Miss Patil hasn’t learned that lesson. She is visiting the land of unconsciousness for her efforts and most likely won’t be practicing any magic for a week.”

“That’s impossible,” Neville’s Gran protested.

“I am afraid my first-years have been stretching the limits of that word since the beginning of the year.” Professor McGonagall scowled. “I rate this attempt lower on the scale than bringing a ghost back to life.”

“How can you be so blasé about this?” Regent Longbottom demanded.

“I have to be,” Professor McGonagall said. “I’m already over my annual budget for the liquid of life.”

“I will have to invite you over, then; I have a nice barrel or two aging in the cellar,” Regent Longbottom said.

With its customary lack of warning, a ball of flames appeared. When the air cleared, Sweetie Belle was standing there with Aide Berrytwist and Professors Flitwick and Goodman.

“Good, you found her.” Professor Flitwick locked his gaze on Luna. “We had Miss Belle use her phoenix to flame us directly to her.”

“Hi guys.” Sweetie waved at her herdmates as Philomena perched on her shoulder. The white bandage wrapped around her head only enhanced her waifish charm.

“Don’t think I haven’t realized that your little group is trying to get around the restrictions imposed on your travels.” Professor McGonagall stated. "Mr. Filch shall be having ample help in the near future.”

All of the present children winced. Somehow, Professor McGonagall could swear that they were masking smiles of determination.

. . . you need to wake up.

The fine furred and feathered friends had flown the coop and taken refuge under the dovecote. The cramped confines compelled them to conform, intertwining in a posture that would normally be considered inappropriate for witnesses. The two who were hiding fervently hoped that they had eluded their stalkers; they'd never live it down otherwise.

“Do you see them?” Nymphadora asked.

Gordon carefully peeked. “I don’t think they’ve seen us,” he said. “They’re just standing around talking.”

“They’d better hurry up and get bored,” Nymphadora griped. “We can go hide in the café once they get out of sight.”

“They don’t look like they’re going anywhere soon,” Gordon said.

Nymphadora sighed. “We’ll wait.”

. . . you need to wake up.

The streets of Canterlot weren’t crowded, leaving plenty of room for two unicorn mares and a gryphon hen to stand around conversing.

“Do you think that they know that we know where they are?” Twilight asked.

“Let them have their illusions,” Andi said.

“It works in our favor,” Glados added.

“It has to be cramped in there,” Twilight objected.

“It works in our favor,” Glados repeated.

“So, how long do you think it will be before we have grandchildren?” Andi asked.

“Not long if I have anything to say about it,” Glados said.

. . . you need to wake up.

The Hufflepuff beater pointed his wand at the beater’s bat in the small girl’s hand. “Repario,” he intoned.

“Thanks,” said Lily. “I may have hit it too hard.”

“I did say, ‘try hitting it as hard as you can.’” The Hufflepuff beater shook his head. “We wanted a baseline of your abilities.”

“I don’t know about a baseline,” said one of the observers sitting on the stands not far away from the floating duo. “But you managed a line of another breed.”

“Hagrid is going to be mad about the trees,” commented another Hufflepuff, sitting next to him.

“It’s a pity that you’re not in our house,” said a third Hufflepuff. “I’m sure you’d make the team. Hope you're sorted into Hufflepuff next year.”

“Who’s going after the bludger?” asked a chaser, floating over to the group.

“I think we’ll just write that one off,” said the team captain as he also joined them. “Luckily, both the Slytherins and Gryffindors have donated a crateload of them to the school recently.”

“That doesn’t bode well,” said the first spectator.

“No, it doesn’t,” agreed the captain. “Someone go to the dorms and get Susan Bones; I think we’re going to have to train her up for the next game.”

“She’s not on the team,” someone objected.

“She is now,” countered the captain.

“You might want to get Hanna as well,” said another Hufflepuff. “That Rumble boy has been an absolute nightmare for the snitch.”

“I hope the batponies aren’t good at something,” said the first Hufflepuff spectator. “We don’t have one of them.”

. . . you need to wake up.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the octopus is understandable.” stated Soft Rock.

“The octopus is understandable?” Minor asked incredulously.

“No,” Soft Rock admitted. “It really isn’t, but as far as hats go, it is more so than a blob of blue jelly. What’s with that?”

“That’s just Mouse,” said Terisa. “He’s harmless . . . mostly.”

. . . you need to wake up.

A Hufflepuff burst into the room. After spotting the two girls he sought, he rushed over, only to find them and several others happily chatting while sharing crackers spread with a strange pink jam.

“What’s that?” he asked, forgetting the reason for his urgency.

“I don’t know,” Hanna said. “Clouded had jars of the stuff on her bed and said we could have one.”

“She had a funny look,” Susan added. “Said she was avoiding the common room when there’s a romantic movie playing from now on.”

“Want some?” Hanna asked. “It’s pretty good.”

. . . you need to wake up.

The centaurs were still in an uproar.

They were under attack . . . or so they assumed.

Something had smashed through trees and branches with equal ease.

It had been over in less than a second, leaving a trail of destruction with a crack of displaced air.

They were on high alert.

They never found an enemy, but the destruction followed a straight line from the school.

. . . you need to wake up.

The Acromantulas were in an uproar.

Something had happened.

Whatever it had been had disintegrated one of the larger members of their tribe.

Had they studied physics, they would have recognized the effects of hydrostatic shock.

It had to have been the wizards.

The line of destruction led back towards their largest dwelling.

Whatever it had been hadn’t stopped. The destruction continued well after the nest.

. . . you need to wake up.

“Are they gone yet?”

“Nope, they’re still standing around.”

. . .

“That had better not be what I think it is.”

“I can’t help it; I have a beautiful hen under me.”

“You think I’m beautiful? . . . Of course, you do, your mother practically demanded I take a form you’d find attractive.”

“Sorry about that, I know how much you hate having others tell you what to look like.”

“Wasn’t your fault. Normally I’d throw a wobbly, but it wasn’t worth it in this case.”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t be right to put you on the outs with your mum.”

“You did it for me?”

“Don’t be surprised, you are my friend.”

“Really? I mean you’re my friend too, but I’d never ask you to do that.”

“Seriously, Gordon, you could put an eye out with that!”

. . . you need to wake up.

Its momentum spent, the iron object lay in its new home. It had come to the end of the valley, where the land had risen to meet its flight path, putting an end to its ballistic behavior. Once it had been a sphere; that was now in the past. It had taken five feet of solid earth to rob it of its drive, but now it could rest in pieces.

. . . you need to wake up.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Seamus said as he and his friends made their way toward the Great Hall.

“Eh, it’s just a little detention.” Abagail shrugged.

“And house points,” Hermione complained.

“Y'all earn more in a week than what we lost,” Apple Bloom said dismissively. “Ah just wish they’d let us stay with Parvati.”

“At least Madam Pomfrey said she’ll be released tomorrow morning,” Dean said.

“Don’t worry,” Luna said. “Abagail and I will sneak in after lights out to keep an eye on her.”

“Don’t lose any more points,” Neville suggested.

There were a few seconds of silence.

“Neville,” Scootaloo said, “I need to ask, what happened to your parents?”

“Scootaloo,” Harry chastised. “Don’t”

“It’s all right, Harry,” Neville said.

“I don’t think it is,” Lavender shot Scootaloo a warning glare. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. We can see that it hurts you.”

Neville stopped walking and his friends crowded around him for comfort.

“Gran says I should be proud of them,” Neville said, “that I shouldn’t be ashamed.”

“Neville.” Sweetie was the first to wrap him in a hug.

Neville shuddered in her arms as Abagail added her own. “Hermione already knows; I should tell the rest of you.”

“You don’t have to,” Lavender said.

“It was Bellatrix and three others; they caught up with Mum and Dad.” Neville plowed on. “They tortured them. The cruciatus curse.” There was a sob hovering just below his words.

“That’s awful.” Apple Bloom added her own hug.

“It was at the end of the last war . . . They . . . Their minds are shattered.”

“I’m so sorry.” Hermione sobbed, keeping her distance.

“I hate Bellatrix,” Neville said with a dead voice. “I don’t care if she was being controlled. I won’t forgive her.” He looked up and saw Hermione standing miserably by herself. “It wasn’t your fault; you weren’t even born yet.”

“I am older than you, you know,” Hermione corrected.

“Hermione, now is not the time for technicalities,” Scootaloo said.

“Come here.” Neville held out his arms, inviting Hermione into the group hug.

With a sob, Hermione threw herself into the embrace.

It was time for tea, but the Crusaders weren’t moving.

. . . you need to wake up.

“Gordon, you really need to be careful! I’m not ready to get married!”

“Married?”

“If you move one more inch, the Ministry is going to consider us married.” Nymphadora warned. “I think that’s a step we should only take when we’re ready.”

. . .

“Gordon are you all right?”

“You said ‘when’, not ‘if’.”

. . .

“Tonks?”

“Why are things so difficult?” Nymphadora asked.

Gordon sighed. “Take another form? That would remove the temptation.”

“I can’t,” Nymphadora said. “My flames would alert them to our position.”

“And if you don’t, then hiding becomes moot,” Gordon declared.

“You have more self-control than that.”

“No, I really don’t; I’m at my limit.”

In a flash of light, the hen vanished, with a much smaller dik-dik doe taking her place. Now able to move somewhat freely, Tonks pivoted around. "Tell me I'm not seeing double."

Tonks felt Gordon's head shake. He replied, "And those things are as sharp as they look."

“Right, we’ll be getting you a human form before we take this any further,” Nymphadora said decisively.

. . . you need to wake up.

In stately Black Manor, the husbands and wives lounged in the living room, talking about the events of the day. Andi and Ted shared one love seat while Remus and Nissy claimed the other. On the couch, Sirius was buttressed between Pinkie and Rainbow.

“If it weren’t for Cloud Chaser stopping him from making a newbie mistake, we’d have been up all-night on the cleanup,” Rainbow said.

“We all have to deal with idiots at work,” Andi replied. “At least you’re not putting people's lives at risk when someone messes up,” she said reassuringly.

“Have you seen what a rogue thunderhead can do?” Rainbow countered.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Twilight said, entering the room, making a beeline for the couch. “Gordon hasn’t shown up on the tapestry yet.”

“’Yet’ being the key word,” Andi said soothingly. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“Perhaps you should back off a bit,” Ted suggested. “Let Nymphadora handle it at her own pace.”

“Hush, dear,” Andi scolded. “Mothers have an instinct for these things.”

“I’ll check again in the morning.” Twilight said, taking a seat on Sirius’s lap. “You do realize that since Gordon is a griffin, you won’t be getting any daughters-in-law from a herd?”

“Fine by me,” Andi replied. “The herd thing is new to us, remember?”

“It seems weird to me,” Pinkie said. “Still, every creature has their own ways.”

“I still say, let the kids be,” Ted asserted. “Marriage is a big step, and there isn’t a halfway mark; what with the instant recognition after the fact.”

“We can still have a ceremony,” Nissy said.

Owlicious flew in, landing on the couch back before holding out a scroll-bearing leg to Rainbow.

Pinkie Pie giggled. "You got mail."

Rainbow snapped, "Hey! That's my line!"

“They might not be ready,” Remus said, ignoring the exchange.

“They’re ready; trust me,” Andi countered.

“We need a way to stop the mingling of magics that’s causing instant marriages,” Sirius said, pulling Twilight closer to himself. “At this rate, half of Hogwarts will be married before they graduate.

“That’s impossible,” Twilight said. “For some reason, earthborn wizards are very open with their magic when they mate.”

“Oh! Oh!” Pinkie exclaimed. “We should ask the Crusaders. They don’t know it’s impossible.”

“We should really give those kids a list of things that are impossible,” Ted said. “It could save us a headache or two.”

“I don’t fancy giving them a to do list,” Nissy countered.

“That’s a great idea!” Pinkie said, pulling a blank scroll out of her hair.

“Pinkie, that’s not even a good idea,” Twilight argued.

“I really don’t like the idea of the kids having a list of things Pinkie considers impossible,” Remus replied, in a quavering tone.

The occupants of the room all shuddered, except for the pink party pony. Instead, she was tying a scroll to Owlicious’s leg.

“Pinkie,” Twilight growled. “I told you that wasn’t a good idea.”

“It only has one item.” Pinkie Pie pouted. “Something that’s been frustrating me.”

“I cannot tell you how frightening I find that statement,” Nissy said.

“We’re overthinking this,” Ted replied. “When was the last time the kids did something impossible?”

“Earlier today.” Rainbow looked up from the scroll she had been reading. “They’re teleporting now.”

“That’s not impossible,” Twilight said. “I can teleport.”

Wordlessly, Rainbow handed her the scroll.

“Those children are unbelievable,” Andi noted. “How are they getting off school grounds to teleport?”

“They’re teleporting from their room,” Rainbow said.

“They can’t do that,” Nissy stated. “The wards would stop any attempt to apparate. That’s imp . . . oh good grief.”

“Is it too late to call your owl back?” Remus asked. “I’d like to see what Pinkie wrote before they do.”

“How bad could it be?” Twilight shuddered when she realized the implications of what she said. “Owlicious!” she called out.

“Seems like it is too late,” Nissy commented.

“Kreacher!” Sirius called out.

“Yes, miserable master?” the elf said after popping in.

“Go to the apothecary and get us some headache potions,” Sirius commanded. “Two for everybody.”

“Kreacher will get.” There was another pop announcing his departure.

“You should have gotten a dozen for everyone,” Remus said. “Better safe than sorry.”

“That’s impossible!” Twilight dropped the scroll she had been reading. “It can’t be done.” she asserted.

“Well, that seems to be the theme for tonight, “Andi said, as Twilight produced a blackboard and started attacking it with a stick of chalk.

“Okay,” Sirius said. “I suggest we all take a vow never to give the Crusaders a list of things they can’t do.”

“That would be a good idea,” Ted admitted.

“That is mathematically impossible!” Twilight pointed at the board now covered by a myriad of symbols. “Just look!”

Pinkie Pie cocked her head. "If you squint, that looks like a penguin waving. Shouldn't that be a cosh?"

“Does anybody understand any of that?” Nissy asked.

“I can get about halfway through it,” Remus admitted.

“Then, I’m not going to bother.” Rainbow said. “Does anypony know what she’s going on about?”

“Parvati Patil teleported Luna Lovegood without going with her,” Twilight said, a few stray hairs springing free from her normally neat hairdo. “You just can’t do that. You can summon and return small nonliving items, but this is impossible!”

“Parvati doesn’t think so,” Pinkie replied.

“But!” Twilight said, a few more hairs making a break for it. “You can’t do something just because you don’t know you can’t do it!”

“Someone should tell the kids that.” Ted said.

“Let’s file that one under bad ideas,” Nissy said. “That’s a paradox waiting to happen.”

Remus shrugged. "I guess there are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

Twilight's eyes narrowed. "Did you make that up on your own?"

Shaking his head, Remus replied, "Nah, I just like quoting dead poets."

Owlicious reappeared and presented Pinkie with a scroll and a package.

“How did he get there and back so quickly?” Andi asked.

“I’m pretty sure he’s taking a detour through Equestria,” Remus said.

“They couldn’t have solved an impossible problem that fast,” Sirius said, “especially not a Pinkie impossibility.”

“They did!” Pinkie exclaimed, dropping the scroll before attacking the package. A blizzard of shredded newsprint hid her from view.

“We should be worried,” Rainbow stated.

“Very worried,” Nissy agreed.

“Ah ha!” Pinkie exclaimed, producing a pendant.

“What’s that?” Andi asked warily.

“Watch.” Pinkie said, slipping the jewelry over Sirius’s head. Soon, where the wizard once sat, there was now a unicorn. His coat started at the blackest black and then added a few more degrees of darkness, just to make its point. His mane was a matching shade.

“Mate,” Remus said, “you are seriously black.”

Every eye in the room turned to assault the ex-werewolf.

“Forget I just said that,” Remus said sheepishly.

“It worked!” Pinkie bounced, coming down in her pony form. She grabbed Sirius’s tail and started dragging him from the room.

“What?” Twilight asked eloquently as she followed.

“Kreacher!” Sirius called out. “Go to the apothecary and get me some pepper-up potions!”

Triumphantly, Rainbow exclaimed as she trailed behind Twilight, "Yes! No more doggy style!"

… I need to wake up.

Chapter 14: Slyness, Skylarking and Shipping

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This year was supposed to have been their time to shine. Everything they had planned had been executed to perfection, yet the newest batch of first-year students had stolen their thunder without even trying. While their reputation as pranksters had not diminished in the least, the twins' stunts had been a candle's flame against the solar glare of the unintentional antics of the new students from another dimension. Even the hardest of hearts melted at the daily appearances of cuddly petite pettable ponies whose concept of normalcy was anything but. No one had noticed that the twins had seemed to have vanished from public view.

Had anyone been paying attention, they would have easily attributed the disappearance to the correct cause. First and foremost, the two were stepping up their game.

Hurricane-force brainstorming had produced a plethora of potential projects. However, one was positively the pinnacle, towering over the rest. Preparations proved problematic as practicality prescribed performance. The payout promised to be the height of hilarity. Regardless, Bathsheda Babbling brightly beamed at the intense interest the twins showed in researching runes.

Secondarily, side projects siphoned off the rest of their free time. The Slytherin Primus had commissioned something special. On its face, the work was not difficult. However, the required results had to be positively perfect. Through tedious trials and innumerable iterations, they finally found the suitable shade.

The young girl had gladly given enough galleons to fatten their money pouches, but that was a trifle compared to the satisfaction of pleasing a particularly picky customer. The twins were still soaking in self-congratulations when they rounded a corner into an imminent incursion.

“George!” they heard being called out right before the collision caught their attention.

“Oooooooof!” George responded. “Minor? Hello, what are you doing here?”

“Cuddling.”

“Incoming!” Fred announced right before the rest of the girls joined their fastest and most observant friend.

“I wish I had a camera,” Terisa said from down the hallway as she watched the pileup.

“Almost makes me wish I were part of their herd,” Lucy noted, standing next to her friend.

“Yeah,” Terisa said dejectedly, “we are going to have to get used to the idea of sharing, after all.”

“Why do you say that?” Lucy asked warily

“All of the boys are now aware that they can court multiple girls from Equestria.” Terisa sighed. “None of them are going to want to settle for just one girlfriend from now on. If you want a boyfriend, you are going to have to share. That’s just the way it is going to be.”

Lucy’s eyes went wide as the implications sunk in. She then uttered several incendiary interjections that would have lost her house points if anyone with the power to do so had been within earshot.

“You’re just now realizing this?” Terisa asked.

Lucy uttered a few more unbecoming oaths.

“Mind you, if you’re dead set on having one to yourself, you could probably still manage that if you go muggle,” Terisa said. “But the boys here at school have all been corrupted.”

“They don’t look that corrupted to me.” Lucy motioned at the spectacle. “They look more like they’re terrified.”

“That is only because boys like to think they're in charge. You know that you used to have to give them that illusion.” Terisa shook her head. “Sooner or later, they will realize the truth. When that happens, they are going to be more than happy with their multiple admirers.”

“So, are you saying we should just join them now and give in to the inevitable?” Lucy asked.

“No,” Terisa said. “The twins aren’t my type, and I don’t think they're yours, either. I’m just saying, don’t get your hopes up, and be prepared.”

“Terisa?”

“Yes, Lucy?”

“Remember when I told you that your obsession for pointing out the obvious might get you hurt one of these days?”

“I seem to recall you mentioning something along those lines.”

“If you’re not careful, today’s going to be that day.”

“Okay, then, let’s change the subject,” Terisa suggested. “My, aren’t they cute together?”

“How is that changing the subject?” Lucy growled. “It may have been humorous before; now, all it does is remind me that the future competition is going to outnumber me seven to one.”

“It might help if you stop thinking in terms of competition and start thinking in terms of teammates.”

“You’re not helping,” Lucy growled.

“So, they are here after all,” Fay said, coming up behind the two girls, all the while watching the scene unfolding in front of them. “Time to face the music, it would seem.”

“I don’t think you have too much to worry about,” Terisa said. “They seem all right, if a bit frisky.”

“I really should be taking points for excessive displays of affection,” Fay said, “but I think that may lead to more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Not to mention it is quite the show,” Terisa added.

“That it is.” Fay nodded. “So, what was it that Terisa wasn’t helping you with when I came up?”

Lucy frowned. “She was pointing out that all of the boys are going to want multiple girlfriends from now on and we were going to have to learn to share.”

“Ah,” Fay continued to nod. “Terisa?”

“Yes?”

“Your penchant for pointing out the obvious is going to get you hurt one of these days,” Fay said

“So I hear,” Terisa replied.

“Should we help them?” Lucy asked.

“Nah.” Terisa shook her head. “The looks of panic have passed; can’t you see that they are enjoying themselves now?”

“Okay, so, ‘help’ is no longer the correct word,” Lucy admitted. “Should we stop them before things get out of control?”

“It’s not like they are going to do anything to risqué in the middle of the hallway,” Fay said. “I say let them have a minute. They’ll be more amendable afterwards.”

“Two things,” Terisa said. “One, we have no idea what ponies consider risqué; I’m willing to bet they’ll cross our line before they cross theirs. And two, what are they going to do? There’s too many of them to fit into a broom closet.”

“I’m willing to bet they’d manage,” Lucy said. “Just look at the way they’re taking turns. They have totally snogged the twins into submission.”

“There hasn’t been any snogging as far as I’ve seen,” Fay said. “I’m not sure if that’s a concept ponies have. The closest they’ve gotten has been rubbing cheeks.”

“Well, I know it’s not exactly snogging,” Lucy clarified, “but I’m not sure what else to call it.”

“Cuddling?” Terisa said. “It’s not like that wasn’t something they weren’t talking a lot about doing.”

“What they’re doing is several degrees above cuddling,” Lucy protested.

“Yeah, I was doubtful when they were planning on convincing the twins to sign the paperwork by cuddling them into it. Now I see we were using different definitions for the word,” Terisa said.

“What paperwork?” Fay asked.

“Oh, they aren’t an official herd yet,” Lucy said. “Apple Bloom just assumed they were. So, you actually have less to worry about on that front.”

“I see that lasting for all of five more minutes,” Fay said. “The twins have gone from panicked victims to willing participants.”

“Who can blame them?” Lucy asked. “I wish I were in their shoes . . . not that I’m bent or anything.”

“Why’d you throw that last bit in?” Terisa asked.

“It needed to be said,” Lucy replied.

“Not really,” Terisa said. “I’m not going to judge you.”

“I should stop them,” Fay said, “but I really don’t want to make them angrier at me.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? Terisa asked.

“Have you heard about what just happened on the Quidditch pitch?” Fay asked in return. “I don’t want to find out what an upset earth pony is capable of, and I have no idea if any of them are one.”

“Well, something needs to be done,” Lucy said. “The temperature in here is rising and no one is using warming charms.”

“We could just leave them to it,” Terisa suggested.

“That won’t help any,” Lucy said.

“You could take a cold shower,” Terisa replied.

Lucy shot her a dirty look.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!”

“Uh oh,” Terisa said as Angelina Johnson came stomping up to the spectacle, followed closely by Alicia Spinnet. “Here comes your something.”

“What’s it to you?” Dull Roar asked coldly, leaving the group.

“You can’t treat the twins like that,” Alicia snapped, stepping into the confrontation.

“Again, what’s it to you? Who are you?” Dull Roar stepped closer.

“The twins are our friends,” Alicia declared. “Me and Angelina saw them first!”

Surprisingly, Dull Roar seemed to perk up at that. “Angelina? Angelina Johnson? Then you must be Alicia Spinnet!”

The recognition broke Alicia’s tirade while Angelina said. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“George and Fred had a lot to say about you two,” Dull Roar said, producing a scroll. “We were hoping to find you as soon as we'd rounded up the twins. Here, sign this, and we’ll get you in the rotation.”

“What exactly is that?” Angelina eyed the scroll.

“Herd agreement,” Dull Roar said. “Fred and George each get to add one human filly, and from what we’ve gathered, that means you.”

Angelina and Alicia shared a startled look before returning their attention to Dull Roar.

“Got a quill?” Alicia asked.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?” Lucy poked Fay. “Last I checked, joining a herd was against the rules.”

“No,” Fay said. “I plan on ending the day with my head still attached to the rest of my body.”

“That didn’t go quite like I was expecting,” Terisa noted.

The Gryffindor common room had seen its share of visitors from other houses, so no one had any reason to bar the pair of Slytherins who entered. The sheer vindictiveness the two exuded should have been a clear signal that their purpose was far from benign. Naturally, no one thought twice about it. With all their attention focused on Neville, the herd was caught completely off guard.

“Heeelllllloooo, Dean.” Diamond Tiara cooed as she and Silver Spoon bore down on the Crusaders; the pair of evil grins they were sporting went unnoticed by the other children, who had just ended their hug fest.

“Hello, Diamond,” Dean said as the rest of his herd added their own greetings.

“Do you know what time it is?” Diamond Tiara asked in a saccharine tone.

“Tea time, duh,” Dean said.

“That comes later,” Diamond said, hefting a water balloon. “Payback time comes first.”

“I’m not wearing a bikini,” Dean said defiantly.

“That was only my initial idea,” Diamond said, testing the weight of her projectile. “I’ve had a better one.”

“Diamond,” Hermione said. “It’s too cold to be throwing around water balloons. Dean could catch a cold.”

“Not to worry,” Silver Spoon said. “The twins told us that with pepper up potions available, that won’t be a worry.”

“Still, it doesn’t seem that imaginative,” Abigail said. “The way you were complaining before, I was expecting something more creative.”

“Sometime the classics are the best,” Diamond said smugly.

“You know what, all right.” Dean said stepping away from his herd, holding his arms out inviting the attack. “Let’s just get this over with. If it makes you feel better, it’ll be worth it.”

“That’s a good colt.” Diamond drew her arm back and gleefully launched her revenge.

“That, that wasn’t so bad.” Dean chattered as the liquid seemed to be soaked up into his robes, vanishing without so much as a wet spot.

His herdmates were staring at him with shocked looks.

“What?” Dean demanded as the silence stretched.

“Diamond,” Scootaloo said, “you are way too cruel.”

“Aren’t I?” Diamond said smugly.

“How’d y'all manage that?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I got help from Ron’s older brothers,” Diamond confided. “Worth every bit.”

“They got the shade right,” Luna said dreamily.

“That must have taken some effort,” Sweetie admitted.

“What are you guys talking about?” Dean brought his hand to his face to examine it. “I’M PINK!”

All of the other children stared at him expectantly. Diamond and Silver openly giggling at the outburst.

Dean glared at them. “Fuchsia . . . I meant fuchsia.”

The other children continued to stare.

“Pink!” Dean wailed. “Good lord, I’m pink!”

“Good going, Diamond.” Sweetie’s voice dripped with anger. “We just managed to stop Neville’s crying; you just had to go and make Dean start.”

“How long is that gonna last?” Apple Bloom asked as Abigail and Scootaloo hurried forward to comfort the distressed boy.

“Three days,” Diamond said smugly.

“Well,” Seamus said. “at least he’s finally past the denial stage.”

Abigail lightly punched Seamus in the shoulder. She said, "He's fuchsia."

"Pink!" wailed Dean.

"Fuchsia!"

"Pink!"

"Fuchsia!"

"Pink!"

The argument faded into the background as the Slytherins walked away. It was time to fetch the colts for tea. While a herd of wild horses couldn't tear them away from the game they were playing in the Slytherin common room, a couple of determined earth ponies could be much more persuasive.

The Gryffindor herd stampeded into the Great Hall. As soon as they entered the chamber, Apple Bloom broke away from the pack and marched up to the Gryffindor table. “George. Fred. Ah’d like a word,” she said menacingly.

“Hi, Apple,” Fred said with a distracted smile.

“Good to see you,” George added, also with a silly grin.

“Y'all gave Diamond Tiara a potion,” Apple Bloom stated. “Ah want the antidote. Ah said she could have payback, but three days is too much.”

“Antidote? Sure, we had some,” George said absently.

“Diamond bought that as well,” Fred informed her.

Apple Bloom blinked and took in the vacant expressions on the twins. “Is something tha matter?” she asked. “Are y'all all right?”

“They're fine,” Dull Roar said, announcing her presence to the Gryffindor, who had neglected to take note of the girls surrounding the twins due to her singlemindedness. “Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet just taught us how to properly snog them.”

“I don’t know what they enjoyed more,” Open Secret said, “when we practiced on them or when we practiced on each other.”

“That was a sight to see,” Terisa said from down the table. “I’m guessing that’s the reason that there are so few blokes in the hall at the moment; the castle is currently providing a lot of cold showers. I know for a fact that’s where Lucy headed off to.”

“Why is Thomas pink?” Fay asked as the rest of the Crusaders started taking seats. “That’s the exact shade he has as a pony. Is this something that’s going to become a thing?”

“Nah, it’s only temporary,” Abigail said. “Diamond is punishing him.” She then glared at the prefect. "And for the record, it's fuchsia."

Terisa nodded. “And that is why she is the Slytherin Primus. Brutal. Simple, yet brutal.”

“Ah have ta give her credit.” Apple Bloom sulked. “Dean ain’t gonna ta be pushing her down any slides no more.”

“I’ll wager he wishes she stuck with her first idea of a bikini,” Seamus piped up.

“What are you doing here?” Scootaloo asked, eyeing the new ponies-turned-human at the table. “Are you going to be students?”

“We needed to get the twins to sign our herd agreement,” Soft Rock said. “We needed the standing to protect them.”

“I’m sure that’s the only reason you wanted them to sign,” stated Terisa flatly.

“Minor looks worse off than the twins,” Harry broke in. “She’s hardly moved and that grin isn’t going anywhere.”

“She did a lot of snogging,” Random Order said. “She seemed to like it.”

“Understate much?” asked Sad Smile.

“Wait,” Apple Bloom said. “Are y'all telling me you didn’t already have them in yer herd?”

“They were being stubborn,” Dull Roar said. “We’ve managed to convince them of the importance of having a secure herd to support them.”

“I thought that starting a new herd was against school rules,” Neville stated.

“If it is, we don’t care,” Dull Roar replied.

“That there is a rule made to be broken,” Open Secret said. “Besides we aren’t a new herd; we were just adding members.”

“Here, Dean,” Lavender said. “Drink some chamomile tea; it’ll make you feel better.”

“Now we just need to figure out how to get Charlie Weasley to sign up as well,” Soft Rock said. “He didn’t seem that interested, but I’m sure we can persuade him, too.”

“Charlie Weasley?” Fay asked. “He’s too old for you.”

“We like older colts,” Dull Roar said, “and we know he’s compatible with the twins.”

“That’s just because they are his family,” Terisa said. “I don’t think they want to be that close, though; you’d be better off targeting their friend Lee.”

“No reason not to go after both.” Sad Smile smiled. “Unattached colts are unattached colts.”

“Now you’re just being greedy,” Sweetie said.

“Says the filly with five colts,” Icy Hot noted.

Suddenly a pillar of flames melted the ceiling over the Ravenclaw table.

“THAT’S NOT FUNNY!” came the shout of an older student. “STOP MAKING HER MAD!”

As that small part of the icy Balkans heated considerably, Discord stood in the sand in his human form with a self-satisfied grin on his face. “This is a fortuitous bonus.”

“It is funny,” Bill Weasley said as he watched four women with multi-colored hair chase after one of his coworkers.

“Who could have guessed that ponies would have reacted this way?” Discord mused, directing his attention at another group that had caught their quarry and were in the process of snuggling him.

“Let’s not tell my mother we did this,” Bill said.

“Or Fluttershy,” Discord agreed, snapping his fingers, causing lead soles to materialize on the boots of a man who was about to outrun his pursuers.

“So much chaos for so little magic.” Discord smiled.

“And no one is getting hurt, or too mad,” Bill added.

“I’m sure we could spice things up some.” Discord started to snap again.

Bill quickly reached out, placing his hand on the other man’s, stopping the gesture. “Sometimes being subtle is better.”

“This is subtle?” Discord asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t get greedy,” Bill said.

“Perhaps someone should tell the mares that.” Discord sulked.

“Do you really want to?” Bill asked.

“No,” Discord admitted, “not really.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.” Mellow Yolk appeared, sliding her curvy human form to snuggle up against Bill. “And I plan on being greedy.”

Bill shot Discord a panicked look.

“You were right,” Discord mused. “Subtle is better in this case.” He snapped his fingers materializing a ball and chain attached to Bill’s ankle, just for giggles.

“That’s subtle?” Bill croaked.

“You will thank me later.” Discord smirked.

Mayor Mare looked out the window of her office and gazed over the town with a small frown.

“Where did everypony get to?” she mused when she noted the significantly diminished hoof-traffic.

Shining Armor looked over at his wife and asked her worriedly. “Are you all right, dear?”

“My shipping sense is overloading,” Cadance said, shaking violently with a happy smile. “This has been a good day -- a very good day.”

Discord stood, watching the chaos he had wrought, more than a little pleased with himself. With a snap of his fingers, a lampshade appeared, providing a gaudy hat for him. “Then again,” he said, “sometimes being subtle is overrated.”

A mutinous rumble filled the Great Hall as the supper crowd argued amongst themselves as to why supper had been delayed. There had been a school-wide announcement declaring that timely attendance was mandatory. There was no surprise when the Headmaster strolled up to his lectern. His wave for silence was moot since he already had it before he took his position.

“Good eve, students new and old,” he said genially after a few seconds. “I do hope each and every one of you has had a happy day. It certainly has been eventful.”

There was a smattering of positive replies from the tables.

“Now, I fear circumstance dictates that we, as a group, must go over some rules, both old and new,” Dumbledore said with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. “There are a few points of order that must be addressed and stressed.”

A feeling of dread wafted through the students.

“To begin with, I will remind you that underage students are not permitted to leave the grounds with impunity. The manner you accomplish this is irrelevant. Automatic point loss and detention of no less than one week shall be earned by everyone found to be in violation of this rule,” Dumbledore continued.

“So, don’t get caught,” Fay muttered under her breath, easily heard by her housemates nearby.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said, directing his gaze at the prefect although he couldn’t have reasonably been expected to have heard her. “Please remember; your safety is the responsibility of the staff.”

Fay had the presence of mind to blush.

“Next,” Dumbledore said, his speaking voice carrying to everybody in the hall, “we shall revisit the subject of herds. To wit, a reminder of the permanent nature of the commitment. You are all young with most of your lives ahead of you. Signing a herd agreement is something that will follow you for the entirety of that life. Do not allow the excitement of the moment to dictate your response in such a situation. Yes, it is a personal matter. I can only suggest that you exercise caution and, hopefully, a cooling down period if you are presented with such an opportunity.”

There were mutters at this statement.

“If you have any questions on the subject, I shall direct you to the Roar twins. You may know them better as the Weasley twins.”

The attention of the students shifted to the two redheads.

“Along those lines, I also remind you that certain other mature activities have permanent consequences. For those of you needing clarification, I refer you to Hufflepuff's dragon baiting captain, Oscar Crunch, formally Oscar Webb. Please remember that our esteemed potion professor’s apprentices are all of pony descent. While relationships with them are not being discouraged, be aware of where your actions may lead. Furthermore, certain activities are prohibited on school grounds. I will be receiving a notice from the Ministry in such cases”

Ignoring the criticism, Raspberry Crunch smiled contentedly as she sat at the Hufflepuff table, snuggling up to Oscar’s left side as Barbie copied her from his right. Oscar didn’t look overly upset at his predicament.

“I do have some bad news,” Dumbledore said. “For the sake of our Madam Pomfrey’s sanity, those individuals known as earth ponies shall be barred from the positions of both beater and chaser, but especially and predominantly beater.”

“Aaaaaaw!” came the collective cry of disappointment.

“Now, now,” Dumbledore chided. “I am sure that none of you want to be on the receiving end of that. Along those same lines, none of our pegasi shall be seekers. I am sure all of us would appreciate our matches lasting more than five minutes.”

“Aaaaaaw!” was repeated by the students.

“This is not meant as a punishment to the individuals mentioned,” Dumbledore said sternly. “Rather, we wish to head off an escalation of arms, so to speak. The school has already gone through the better part of two crates of bludgers; luckily no one was injured in the process. Additionally, recent negotiations with our centaur neighbors have brought to light the indisputable necessity of implementing these restrictions.”

“Aaaaaaw!” was repeated by the students.

“I would also remind everyone that bullying is not an approved pastime,” Dumbledore said. “Furthermore, selecting a second-year walking her housemate’s pet koala as your target is disreputable and, I shall state, beneath any wishing to continue their education at this institution. Be advised that if said pet had not been pulling its punches, the wounds would have been deeper and more severe. Koalas have some very long and very sharp claws, after all.”

Several Slytherin students looked properly abashed. “Koalas are surprisingly vicious,” one of them muttered.

“On that note, all future pets not on the approved list must receive permission prior to their arrival at the castle,” Dumbledore added

The Gryffindor students collectively fidgeted.

“Our final two subjects of interest are very specific,” Dumbledore said. “Due to Miss Li’s specific circumstance, I shall be very disappointed with anyone choosing to intentionally raise her ire. Such behavior shall result in point loss and a week’s detention. Regardless of how proficient the members of Ravenclaw house are becoming at flame suppression charms, there is a limited supply of burn salve in our infirmary, and while our interim professor of potions has helpfully produced more, it should be an unneeded expenditure of her talents.”

It was the Ravenclaws' turn to look abashed.

“Our final subject of discussion is nothing more than a reinforcement of common sense, if not self-preservation. I find it hard to believe that the issue needs to be raised, let alone repeated. It is the school motto, after all.” Dumbledore swept his gaze across the assembly, seemingly locking eyes with each individual briefly. “For the love of Merlin, don’t tickle the sleeping dragon.”

It was the muggleborn table’s turn to display its embarrassment as a centerpiece disappeared in a gout of green flame.

The field medic rushed into the royal bedroom, focusing her attention on Shining Armor, who met her with a worried expression. “What is it, your highness?” she demanded. “What’s the emergency?”

Shining Armor pointed a hoof at Cadance, who was lying on her back, twitching occasionally and wearing a wide grin. “She said she was overloaded,” he said grimly. “I think she’s in pain.”

"Does that have anything to do with all these lampshades?"

Shining Armor looked over the assortment that had been scattered about the room. "Discord popped in for a second and said we were going to need them."

Cadance gave a moan that shook the building to its foundation.

“That didn't sound like pain to me,” the field medic noted, lighting her horn to commence her diagnostics. “If anything, they sound like . . .”

“Don’t go there.” Shining Armor snapped as a full body blush turned him a bright red.

Chapter 15: Belligerent Bombarding Butterflies

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In the cozy café near Canterlot's main train station, the mood at its largest round table was definitely mixed. Magic was missing; of that there could be no doubt. The other Elements of Harmony, however, were represented. Loyalty and Laughter were apprehensive at the vague reason behind Magic's absence, while Kindness and Generosity buoyed the relief that Honesty felt at the discharge of her husband.

Unbeknownst to the casual observer, transfigured humans sat among the national heroes. The newly-recovered Severus Snape drew envious stares from thestral mares hidden in the vicinity, while the wolf and moon cutie mark that Remus Lupin sported drew the attention of conspiracy theorists. The last two garnered attention because of the rarity of their coloration. The pure gold of Lady Greengrass' coat marked her as a potential fashion model, while everypony who passed could not help but stare as no light escaped when it struck Sirius Black.

“Y'all need ta eat more.” Applejack nosed her plate, pushing it closer toward the thestral sitting next to her.

“I assure you, I ordered more than enough,” Severus Snape said soothingly. The love in his voice would have shocked his students, possibly even hospitalizing a few with weaker constitutions.

“Y'all need ta keep your strength up,” Applejack insisted, giving her plate another nudge.

“Applejack, darling,” Rarity broke in. “You are treating poor Severus like an earth pony. Remember, he cannot . . . errr . . . pack away nearly as much food as you can.”

“Besides,” Lady Greengrass said, gesturing with her golden hoof, “the good doctor did say he has made a full recovery. He is now free of that awful mark. You needn’t worry.”

“He was laid up fer over a week.” Applejack’s ears drooped. “Ah couldn’t do nothing about it.”

“I apologize for putting you through that,” Severus said.

“It weren’t yer fault, sugar cube,” Applejack replied.

“All’s well that ends well,” Rainbow Dash insisted around a mouthful. “Twilight still feels awful that you got hurt.”

“I shall need to remind her that she has set me free,” Severus said. “Quite possibly, she has saved my life. The pain is insignificant compared to that.”

“In short, she saved you from being a daft moron,” Sirius snorted. “You should be thanking her.”

“Sirius,” Remus said warningly, still having problems lifting his teacup with just his hooves.

“On this matter, the mutt is correct, Lupin,” Severus replied, “as unprecedented as that may be.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what the mark represents,” Sirius said with more than a little hostility.

“I have not forgotten, either,” Severus snarled. “I have neither forgotten nor forgiven. It costs me more than you could possibly understand.”

“Colts,” Applejack said with a warning tone.

“Perhaps, if you don’t mind, it is time for everypony to forget,” Fluttershy suggested. “That is, if you think it’s a good idea.” Her voice had dropped below the level of a whisper by the end.

“There is too much to forget,” Lady Greengrass said. “Forgiving would not be amiss, though.” The last was directed at Sirius. “Do you not agree, Lord Black?”

Instead of giving a coherent response, Sirius mumbled into his food.

Pinkie looked at her stallion and let her mane deflate noticeably. “It can’t be that bad,” she said, joy fleeing from her voice.

“Give them time,” Remus replied. “They have been enemies for as long as either can remember. They won’t become friends overnight.”

“If ever,” Rainbow Dash grumbled. “I don’t see our herds merging any time soon.”

The two stallions in question gave the multicolored mare horrified looks.

“Rainbow!”

“Lady Black!”

“We can dream,” Pinkie said with a hint of hope.

“Pinkie!”

“Lady Black!”

“Ah, know.” Applejack huffed. “Ah still can’t believe the girls managed to pull off what they did.”

“Cowgirl pony!”

“Applejack!”

“Conversation successfully diverted,” Remus commented as he dropped his teacup, splashing himself and those nearest to him. “This is harder than it looks,” he said dejectedly.

“You’re putting too much thought into it, darling,” Rarity said soothingly while using her magic to levitate a napkin to begin cleaning up. “If you try to force it, it will not work.”

“Easier said than done.” Remus sighed. “I’ve seen Pinkie do impossible things with her hooves and mane. Makes me feel like a newborn in comparison.”

“That’s not a good example,” Applejack said. “Pinkie is . . .”

“Pinkie,” Remus finished for her. “Yes, I know.”

“Ah can’t use my tail the same way she does,” Applejack said.

“That hardly matters,” Fluttershy replied. “We’ve seen how you handle a lasso, not that I’m disagreeing with you.”

“I can teach you,” Pinkie told Remus. “You can help me at Sugarcube Corner, I’m sure the Cakes wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you, no,” Remus said. “If I bring back a mare wanting to join our ‘herd’, Narcissa will kill me.”

“I could always ask for you,” Rainbow offered. “Off hoof, I think you two would get along really well with Brass Button.”

“Rainbow,” Remus said warningly.

“Or Cream Soda,” Applejack added.

“I’m very happy with just Nissy,” Remus firmly said. “In fact, she’s more than I ever dreamed of. I wasn’t exactly in a good position for a relationship before.”

“At least let me introduce you to Brass Button,” Rainbow suggested.

“No,” said Remus.

“Cream Soda?” Rainbow pressed.

“No,” Remus said more firmly.

“Soft Hymn?” Rainbow added.

“Why is this so important to you?” Remus demanded.

“We want to see you and Nissy as happy as possible,” Rainbow said.

“Trust me,” Remus said. “We are very happy.”

“You could be happier,” Pinkie suggested. "A herd of two is no herd at all."

“I’d be happier if you dropped the subject,” Remus stated.

Severus sat up straighter in his seat and focused his ears somewhere off in the distance. “Incoming heartsong,” he warned.

Those of human birth stiffened and sent their gazes in the direction his ears indicated.

“How bad is it?” Lady Greengrass demanded.

“Be at ease,” Severus said. “It would appear to be a solo. In fact, it is Twilight if I am not mistaken.”

“Is it about books?” Applejack asked warily, pointing her own ears, straining to match her stallion’s better hearing.

“No.” Severus frowned. “She sounds as if the test did not go according to her expectations. She was unprepared, if I am not mistaken.”

Sirius was out of his seat in less than a second and out of sight soon after.

“He can move when he wants to,” Lady Greengrass noted. “I still cannot gallop like that without becoming uncomfortably intimate with the ground.”

“It is similar to picking things up with your hooves,” Rarity said. “The less thought put into it, the better.”

“I hope Twilight is going to be okay,” Remus said. “She was genuinely worried about this test.”

“We should go comfort her,” Lady Greengrass suggested.

“There is no need.” Severus dissented. “The solo has become a duet. I dare say it is now bordering on sappy. Any changelings in the vicinity are going to become morbidly obese.”

“Ah wish y'all wouldn’t speak of that all public like,” Applejack scolded, sotto voce. “The princesses want to honor the bugs’ wishes to stay under tha rug.”

Severus winced. “My apologies. You did tell me that in confidence; it was thoughtless of me to speak of it so freely. I have no excuse for my dunderheadedness.”

“You do know that Sirius is going to be willing to pay a fortune for a memory of you saying that?” Remus asked.

Severus narrowed his eyes at the Marauder. “That was private between my wife and myself. It would behoove you to respect such boundaries.”

“My apologies. Duly noted,” Remus said, motioning for the waiter to bring another cup of tea. Twilight and Sirius trotted up to the table at the same time his new order arrived.

“Girls,” Twilight greeted with a wan smile as Sirius pressed reassuringly against her side.

“Twilight, sugar cube,” Applejack said. “Ah’m afraid ta ask; did you pass?”

Pinkie pulled a cannon out of her mane, its fuse already lit, somehow. “Are we going to celebrate your awesomeness with Princess Celestia?” The cannon went off, filling the air above the group with confetti as the pink pony hopped up with hopes of a party.

“Not quite,” Twilight said as she watched her words remind gravity that her friend existed. “We’re going to the Crystal Empire.”

Princess Celestia was alone in her study, sipping a cup of tea, which she set down when the maid came into the room to collect the empty plate that had once borne a tasty slice of lemon cake. “Ah.” She smiled. “I know I shouldn’t, but would you bring another slice? I feel like being naughty today.”

The maid’s horn lit, closing the door behind her. Celestia’s eyes narrowed as she noted the mare’s magic did not match the color of her eyes. “I am not here for that,” the maid said dismissively. “It is time for us to speak as equals.”

“I see.” Celestia raised her cup for another sip. “We were wondering where you had gone after the incident at the ball. Your manor was devoid of all occupants when it was checked.” She set her cup down again. “Would you care for some tea? I had it imported from the human world.”

“No, I’d like to keep this as short as possible,” said the maid. “This is a conversation that should never have needed to happen.”

Celestia tilted her head toward the maid in recognition. “Your actions at the Hearths Warming Ball were unwarranted,” she said, lacking the anticipated note of anger. “They shall not be repeated.”

“There was a scout from a rival hive posing as a princess,” the maid stated, “or so it was thought. An attack from that angle had been highly anticipated and bad judgement was employed.”

“So, you claim your behavior was justified.” Celestia let some steel into her voice. “A pony died that day.”

“As did a changeling,” the maid replied, “and the behavior was not my own. I am here to assure you that a reoccurrence shall not happen. The fact that you have not released the particulars of the incident has been noted. The goodwill is appreciated.”

“You are a messenger then,” Celestia said with a small frown. “I had hoped your queen would chat with me herself.”

“I am the new queen,” the maid declared haughtily. “My mother has been retired due to her blatant disregard for the safety and security of the hive. Things could have gotten complicated if you had a mind for it.”

Celestia’s left eyebrow rose in surprise, “I see. In that case, let us start our relationship on a more amiable hoof. I will offer assurances that my ponies shall not seek out the changeling population. Though there is no need for you to remain hidden; you are most welcome to live among us in peace.”

“We will remain hidden,” the maid stated.

“A pity,” said Celestia, “I expect that your mother counsels you towards that decision. Would you relay that I would welcome a conversation with her? Despite her diminished position, I would still have words with her.”

The maid smirked at the alicorn. “You misunderstand. She did not retire; we retired her.”

The subterranean Slytherin common room was abuzz with excitement as steady footsteps announced the return of the head of house. A creative seventh year had cast a monitoring charm in the hallway to alert them by allowing them to hear anyone approaching. Just before the door opened, the students arranged themselves by year and stood at attention. Many eyes widened as the two Snapes entered, arm in arm. Despite the dignified demeanor they projected, it was clear they were very much in love. The distaff instructor stepped away, but did not stray too far from the returning head of house.

Severus spoke. "I am sure rumors about me have been spreading like the plague. Let me set the record straight. First and foremost, I am now married. Something that should not come as a surprise, since you have been receiving instruction from my wife, an expert in a foreign field of potions."

The silence that responded was deafening.

"Next, word of my untimely demise is quite obviously exaggerated. There was an unfortunate accident, but, as you can clearly surmise, I have recovered. Tomorrow morning, I shall be resuming my duties.”

The students were digesting that news when a loud knocking shook the room. Something that should not have been possible since there would be a stone façade barring the entrance to any ignorant of the password. Not to mention the monitoring charm should have gave forewarning. With barely a twitch to show his annoyance, Severus answered the door. The Slytherins gasped as he was yanked out by an unsee aggressor and the door slammed shut behind him. Once the shock subsided, the students stumbled over each other as they attempted to go to his aid. Much to their astonishment, a small zebra leapt over them and threw the door open.

The Slytherins gasped at the sight that greeted them; Professor Snape was at the bottom of a pony pile.

Zecora said, "Even a blind mare can see you care; pray tell, what has caused this affair?"

Apple Bloom separated herself from the Crusaders. "Evenin', Zecora. Applejack was frettin' so much over her stallion that Ah had to make sure he was all right."

With forced dignity, Severus replied, "Miss Bloom, I assure you that the healers have given me a clean bill of health. I would have gone to help your sister, but she insisted that I was to take things easy for a while."

"Help?" asked Apple Bloom. "What's she doin'?"

"She and her friends are going someplace very cold."

A bit of magic was the only thing that kept the rails from being buried by the swirling snow. The end of the line was marked by a yellow and black barricade, and a small black shelter provided scant respite from the elements.

The tracks had been laid by military engineers. This place was by no means meant for commercial traffic. Only the foolhardy or the desperate would willingly venture into this frozen wasteland. The train that approached had been commandeered from the Los Pegasus run, and although its heaters had been turned up to maximum, the breath from each passenger was marked by a wispy cloud.

The recently-regurgitated porter shivered more from the experience of being eaten by an apparently unattended trunk than from the cold that seeped past his woolen clothing. Once he had been released, the living quarters within the trunk had proven to be an oasis, maintaining a comfortable temperature in defiance of the chill outside. Still, he could not stop trembling even after finishing the chamomile tea.

“I wanna go back in the hot tub,” Rainbow said as the door slid open to allow them to egress.

“Ha!” Rarity said, posing with her pink accessory. “And you all made fun of me for packing so many scarves.”

“No, we didn’t,” Rainbow said. “We made fun of you for packing your whole house.”

“You are exaggerating, darling,” Rarity huffed.

“Not by much.” Applejack was the last to step off the train. “If’n George didn’t already have a kitchen sink y'all would’ve brought that too.”

“One must maintain a certain image,” Rarity sniffed as she stored a shrunken George away.

Before anypony could respond to that, a stallion’s voice called out over the howling wind. “Twilight!”

“Shining Armor?” Twilight responded hopefully as a figure seemingly materialized from the blowing snow.

“Twiley!” Shining Armor said, using a hoof to lower the grey scarf that had been covering his muzzle. “You made it.”

With a happy smile, Twilight trotted over to give her brother a hug.

“Hello, Shining.” Sirius waved. “Good to see you.”

“No time for greetings,” Shining said. “We need to get moving; there are things out here we really don’t want to run into after dark.”

Fluttershy gulped. “What kind of things?”

“Let’s just say that the empire isn’t the only thing that has returned,” Shining said with a foreboding look over his withers.

Sirius shared a meaningful glance with Remus. The two of them had insisted on tagging along, outdoing Severus, who, despite his arguments, had been sent back to Hogwarts. Applejack wasn’t going to let him accompany her right after he had gotten out of the hospital, clean bill of health or no. “I could stand to get out of the cold,” he quipped. “Lead the way.”

Without another word. Shining turned to do just that.

There were times that Inspector Jack Winsom hated his job. Through the years, he had never lost his disgust at witnessing death from unnatural causes. Still, he could not deny the satisfaction of a job well done. Nothing else in his life compared to bringing a perpetrator to justice.

Every day he went to work knowing that his cause was lost. Like a knife in the back of his eyeball, that realization ground on his consciousness every waking moment. He despaired over the knowledge that he was merely treating the symptom of an uncurable disease; only the end of humanity could truly stop it.

His current case was particularly messy. The victim had been discovered when another patron of the self-storage business had noticed blood seeping through a crack in the doorway. The deceased was slumped over an opened drawer of a heavily damaged dresser. There were no signs of struggle, and by the looks of things, every drop of his blood was now outside the young man's body. There were no visible wounds on the back, so the attack must have come from the front.

What was particularly vexing was that the only apparent clue that the perpetrator had left was a trail of bloody shoeprints. The size and stride indicated someone the size of a toddler. Mere weeks earlier, he would have narrowed his suspect pool to a handful of little people. Now, however, he knew of species other than human. Goblins were a distinct possibility, given their size and their affinity for sharp objects, and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

With a sigh, Inspector Winsom turned from the crime scene. He was going to have to consult with the wizarding bobbies, they may have some important insight that he’d be needing.

Narcissa Black, formerly Narcissa Malfoy, was a jumble of conflicting feelings. She had just signed her youngest sister out of St. Mungo's, and she was quite relieved to have Bellatrix free again. On the other hand, she could not shake the nagging feeling that she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life. Bella's stability had been in question before her incarceration in Azkaban, and her time there could not have done anything to improve her condition.

Still, Bella was family. She was Narcissa's little sister; nothing in the world could change that. Narcissa would protect her as best she could.

“Finally!” Bella stalked a few steps ahead. “I’m free of that hellhole. Now, I need a wand.”

“Bella.” Nissy reminded her. “Your wand rights haven’t been returned yet. They want you to attend a few more sessions with the mind healers first.”

“I don’t care,” Bella vented. “They snapped my wand. I want a new one. I’ve been without for a decade. I will not wait one minute longer.”

“Ollivander will not sell you one,” Nissy said, increasing her pace to walk alongside her sister.

“His shop is hardly the only place to acquire a wand,” Bella barked.

“And they will be watching to see if you frequent any of those other places,” Nissy warned.

“Our ancestors' wands are in the Black vaults,” Bella said with finality.

“And Sirius has forbidden you access,” Nissy said, “for just that reason.”

“The Lestrange vaults then,” Bella said.

“You have no claim to them.” Nissy continued to reason. “Your marriage has been dissolved, and your dowry returned.”

“I still have possessions in them,” Bella said. “The goblins will allow me to retrieve them since there is no one to naysay my petition to return my property. I can swipe a wand while I’m at it. I know just the one to procure.” She stopped to take in her surroundings. “Why are we walking among muggles? Why have you not apparated us yet?”

“There is a nice restaurant just down the street,” Nissy said, not breaking stride and forcing her sister to walk once more or be left behind. “I thought you would like a decent meal after subsisting on hospital food.”

“You propose we dine with the filthy muggles?” Bella nearly growled.

“Things have changed since you have been away, Bella,” Nissy said. “Did you not know the statute has fallen?”

“IT WHAT?!”

“That would be a no, then.” Nissy tsked. “I am surprised they did not tell you during your stay. Did you not read the Daily Prophet at all?”

“That rag?” Bella snorted dismissively. “No one thought to bring me a copy.”

“Weren’t you bored?”

“No, I was making plans. Surely you jest; the statute could not have fallen.” Bella fixed Nissy with a withering stare. “You have adopted our cousin’s sense of humor in my absence.”

“Oh? Jesting, am I?” Nissy produced her wand, “Colovaria.” With a swish, Bella’s black robes turned cherry red. The younger witch stood, gobsmacked, as her sister performed magic right in front of a street full of muggles. A few of them went so far as to give polite claps at the impromptu show.

“I liked the black better,” commented a passing man. “She had the whole goth thing going.”

“Close your mouth, Bella,” Nissy said. “It is unbecoming.”

Bella ignored her.

“Is she all right?” asked a worried passerby

“You hear that?” Nissy replied smugly. “That’s the sound of her worldview shattering.”

“Bit behind the times ain’t she?”

“She has an excuse,” Nissy told the good Samarian before reaching out to take Bella’s arm. “Come along now; I am feeling peckish.”

“This is outrageous,” Bella muttered as they continued to the restaurant. She was uncomfortably aware that all of the muggles they passed were cognizant of their status as witches. She only left her daze when she realized that Narcissa was talking to a young hostess. They had arrived at the restaurant.

“We’d like a table for four, please,” Nissy said pleasantly. “In the back please.”

The hostess perked up, plainly recognizing Narcissa. “Yes ma’am. Would the rest of your party happen to be ponies? There hasn’t been a pony spotting in weeks. Aside from the ambassador, that is.”

“No,” Nissy said patiently; Bella had expected her haughty persona. “We are expecting our sister and her husband to be along shortly."

“Pity,” said the disappointed hostess. “I saw you on the telly, dining with them. We would be right thrilled if they were to show up here.”

“Not today I fear,” Nissy said.

“Pity,” The hostess repeated. “I’d love to meet the pink pegasus, she seems good for a laugh.”

“Pink peg . . . Oh, no, Pinkie is an earth pony,” Nissy said.

“Truly? Her name is Pinkie?” The hostess had disbelief in her voice.

“Pinkie Pie to be exact.” Nissy nodded. “And she is most assuredly good for a laugh or two.”

“I would love to meet her,” the hostess said hopefully. “I would at that. Or the prissy rainbow haired one.”

Nissy laughed. “I will need to inform her you said that. It is clear that they need to put in another public appearance.”

It wasn’t long before the two sisters were situated at a table in the back. Not hiding her disgust, Bella took in her surroundings. “You brought me here to test me,” she snarled accusingly.

“Would I do that?” Nissy said, picking up her menu. “Oh,” She stopped the hostess as she started to walk away. “Could you see that we start with an appetizer platter? Thank you.”

Bella watched the muggle retreat. “I hate you,” she informed her sister. “How could you have fallen? When did you become a blood traitor?”

Showing no signs of distress, Nissy started to peruse her menu. “I know,” she said, “this is a shock for you. I won’t hold your words against you. However, there are a few things you need to get through your head, and you need to do so quickly.”

“Do tell.” Bella had venom in her voice now. “How could you abandon our master?”

This time, Nissy paused to frown before responding. “He was never my master. He was Lucius’, not mine.”

“You need to commit,” Bella snarled.

“You need to stop being stupid,” Nissy countered. “Mother taught us better than this.”

“I plan on being on the winning side,” Bella said imperiously.

“You have only just been released from Azkaban,” Nissy noted dispassionately. “It is apparent that we were lax with our visits. You have no idea which way the wind is blowing. If you don’t keep your head down, you will end up back in your old cell. You got lucky; don’t waste the opportunity. I would hate to lose you again.”

“You know nothing.” Bella’s voice started to rise. “My lord shall . . .”

“Be squished like a bug.” Nissy finished for her, halting the outburst. “Even if he does manage to return, there are new players on the board who reduce his status to that of a pawn. The pureblood faction is gone; if any remain among the Wizengamot, they are keeping their own heads down. Many, if not the majority of your former comrades, have been introduced to the veil. The Ministry has been purged and is headed by a surprisingly competent Minister.” Nissy was ticking points off on her fingers now. “The muggles are aware of us, and, despite your opinion of their capacities, they are more than capable and are willing to seek out and destroy malcontents. Now that they know what to look for, their response to muggle baiting has been swift and effective. Raising the stakes there would result in dead wizards.”

Bella was gaping at her sister once again.

“The Dark Lord would be deprived of followers and funds. Bribery is an almost impossible undertaking with the new vows in place. The aurors have been funded to ridiculous levels, with the muggle government eager to increase their numbers. Couple that with their new policy of meeting lethal force with lethal force, and you’d have a war of attrition you could not win. Information control has been wrenched from those in power as more and more witches have access to tellies; there is even one set up in the Leaky. Face it, Bella, the world you knew is no more. You will need to change as well, or you will be chewed up and spat out.”

Bella was still mutinous, but she did attenuate her volume to a more acceptable level. "I still need to get into the Lestrange vaults. Take me there now.”

Nissy sighed and reached for her menu once more. “The cup has been disposed of,” she said soberly, “and you are not getting a wand until you learn to acclimate to the new waters.”

Rage and fear warred on the younger Black’s face. “How?” she sputtered. “The mongrels would not have allowed anyone into the vault with Rodolphus and Rabastan in prison.”

“Estranged family members claimed the house,” Nissy said dismissively. “You will have to go through them to recover any possessions you may have left at the manor or in the vaults. Don’t get your hopes up though, they contracted Moody to go over both with a fine-toothed comb, and he had a field day.”

Bella’s face fell even further. “You lie,” she stated.

“You know that isn’t true,” Nissy said, reading her menu. “Look Bella, I do not care what you did in the past. You are my sister. No matter how much you may have deserved your punishment, you are being given the chance to start anew. If you persist on displaying distasteful views, Sirius will disown you again, in which case, you would have no income.”

Bella gave her older sister a look that would not have been out of place on a petulant child.

Nissy continued, unperturbed. “If you seek your former master, it would not be long before you were dead. Please do not make me suffer that.”

Bella jumped to her feet, face red with rage. “You!!!!” That was as far as she got; Nissy had been waiting with her wand ready. The younger woman soon found herself stuck to her chair and silenced.

“Bella,” Nissy said, “I love you. You are my sister. I will not let anything ever again come between myself and you or Andromeda. So shut up, and think and act like a Slytherin. I’m not asking you to change your views. I am asking you to survive.”

Bella glared back in defiance.

“Oh look, here’s Andi now.” Nissy said, waving over her other sister. Turning back to a clearly-enraged Bella, she said seriously, "Heaven help you if you put even a toe over the line; nothing else will be able to."

Chapter 16: Waylaying, Whimsical, and Worrying

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The howling wind forced Sirius to keep his eyes squinted as he escorted his wives through the blowing snow. Not for the first time in his life he was grateful to be covered by an insulating layer of fur, or to be pedantic, horse hair. In any case, he had little doubt that the single layer of fur on his canine form would be marginally warmer. Still, he couldn’t complain; both were leagues better than ambling around as a naked ape. He sighed, if only he could figure out how to cast a warming charm with his horn. The wand motions did not translate well; his neck simply did not have the range of motion of his arm and wrist.

He still could not fathom how his first wife managed any sort of magic with her wand. It had been an arithmancy nightmare trying to understand how she could cast anything, let alone levitation, without any sort of gesture. While he could cast rudimentary spells with almost no wand movement, years of muscle memory had forced him to make some sort of gesture when casting. For now, he could cast only these spells in his unicorn form.

“Something keeps trying to get in,” Shining Armor said, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. “We think it’s the unicorn king who originally cursed the place.”

“But,” Twilight objected, “Princess Celestia said I was being sent here to find a way to protect the empire. If King Sombra can’t get in, then it must already be protected.”

Without warning, a new sound rose above the howling of the wind. The mournful wailing sent another shiver down the backs of everypony present.

“Tha! That’s one of the things! Isn’t it?” Fluttershy called out, trying to look in all directions at once.

“We have to get to the Crystal Empire!” Shining Armor commanded. “Now!”

As if taking a cue, a vortex of shadows launched itself from the ground where they had recently trod. Instinct and experience served the ponies well as they took off at a gallop.

“What is that?” Remus demanded, looking over his withers as he worked his legs.

“Run!” Shining Armor directed. “Don’t gawk! Run!”

This couldn’t be happening. Sirius pumped his own legs to match that of his friends and family. Whatever that was, it couldn’t be worse than a dementor. Whatever that was, it was threatening his friends. Whatever that was, it was threatening his wives! As one, both Sirius and Shining skidded to a halt to confront the danger.

Sirius needed a spell! He wasn’t sure what to cast with his horn. Maybe he should turn human? No. He'd die of exposure in this cold.

The menacing cloud of darkness had glaring green eyes sporting red pupils that narrowed at the sight of its fleeing prey turning to fight.

Sirius needed a spell to protect his family.

Grimly, Shining Armor lowered his horn to aim, unleashing a bolt of magic.

Sirius had failed his brother in all but blood. He had failed his brother’s wife.

The mass of darkness dodged the bolt sent by the white unicorn, almost melting out of the way.

Most importantly, Sirius had failed his godson, the one he had sworn upon his life to protect.

The thumping of hooves announced the arrival of Remus, who had doubled back to lend his aid.

Sirius had failed. He had not been there when they needed him the most. Their blood was on his hands. Man, dog, or pony, his present form did not matter. HE WOULD NOT FAIL AGAIN! “Expecto Patronum!”

The words may have been stolen by the wind. The significance was not.

Sirius swore that something had sprung from his horn. However, silhouetted against the black cloud, a giant, silvery, spectral wolf seemed to materialize out of the white world and sprang for the throat. Sirius deflated. It was Remus's patronus. Sirius had failed.

The cloud of darkness loosed a scream as it dodged the vicious attack. A plume a snow erupted as the wolf landed where the cloud had been.

Just as suddenly, the cloud lurched to the side. As it twisted, its heretofore invisible assailant could now be seen. It was not the silvery mastiff that Sirius had expected. Instead, it was a terrifying hound, worthy of the third circle, dwarfing Apple Bloom's Fluffy.

The cloud rocketed skyward with the dog's jaws locked around its neck. Seeing an opening, the spectral wolf launched itself and clamped its jaws on the midriff. The combined gravity of the packmates dragged the cloud back to earth.

The cloud of darkness drew itself taller, visibly drawing in magic for a counterattack. It screamed in agony as the packmates shook their heads, promising to rip the cloud apart.

A sickly green glow filled the air as the cloud released a burst of raw magic, throwing off its foes. The two enormous canines of light landed a dozen feet away, kicking up snow as they quickly righted themselves to lunge once again. However, their quarry was having none of it, the blowing snow highlighted it as the cloud retreated at top speed.

Mutely, the two glowing forms pursued the retreating darkness into the blowing snow, leaving great pawprints in their wake.

As he and the other two stallions watched the vanishing conflict, Shining Armor said, “You have got to teach me that spell.”

He needed to rest. His reserves of mana were nowhere near what he needed. Frustratingly, he could feel the descendants of his slaves nearby, but he could not tease out even a quantum of mana from them. That cursed mongrel who had waylaid the capstone of his plan had forced him to gamble on a patsy to restore his true power. He had placed the essence of control on her, and for a time, he had nourished himself of the steady stream of mana she had transmitted.

That essence would have been reclaimed upon her death. It should have been a minor risk at worst. That surefire investment had failed dramatically. He could no longer sense his intended sacrifice. She had closed herself off to him. Reclaiming that which he had lent her would be a nearly impossible undertaking. A proper pyramid with a sacrificial altar would be required at this point.

Then there was the accursed woman. He could still feel her, but that was fading as well. Soon, the power she had stolen would be lost to him as well. He was hesitant to seek another confrontation. He was much too weak, and her protectors were much too strong. It was taking everything he had to move his body; there wasn’t even enough to radiate even a meager aura, let alone one that was proper. It was infuriating.

Movement itself was an achievement. The trickle of mana he was receiving was barely enough to keep him anchored to this plane of existence with just an iota left over. If it were not for something inherent with the form he now inhabited, he wouldn’t have even that much. There was something in the underlying consciousness of the peasants that was fueling that function. It wasn’t much, but it was better than being entombed in an inanimate object.

He had fallen so very far.

No matter, it was only an inconvenience, and with time, inconveniences could be overcome -- with time and blood. There were sacrifices walking around everywhere. He just needed to establish the desired circumstances. He would claw his way back up. He would be feared once again.

But right now, he needed rest.

There were dwellings aplenty; he just needed to choose one.

So, he did.

The aesthetics were nothing like he was used to, but it would do. There were even knives to be had. Again, there was a distinct lack of proper obsidian tools, but the metal ones were growing on him. It would suffice as a temporary base of operations. He could rest here.

He was examining the edge of his new blade when he heard a door open. He could hear the humming of a woman accompany the sound of the door closing. He could not guess her age without seeing her, though -- that did not mattered.

Rest could wait for a bit.

It was time for those circumstances to happen.

It was time for blood.

On a lonely island, a figure took one single step forward, disturbing the birds perched upon him.

Shining Armor escorted the others into the throne room where they found a single occupant fidgeting on the throne.

“Cadance!” Twilight called out gleefully upon seeing her, trotting forward.

“Twilight!” The pink pony launched herself from her seat, unable to remane seated any longer.

They came together and started chanting together, “Sunshine sunshine, ladybugs awake. Clap your hooves and give a little shake.”

“That was cute,” Sirius said as the mares giggled. “Can you do it again?”

“Sunshine sunshine, ladybugs awake. Clap your hooves and give a little shake.”

“I think he was being rhetorical,” Rainbow commented.

“I could do this all day,” Cadance declared as Twilight nodded along in approval.

“Do you have time for that?” Remus asked. “We ran into something nasty on the way here.”

“It was King Sombra,” Shining Armor clarified.

“He’s still out there banging his head on the wards?” Cadance asked. “I guess he’s waiting for them to weaken.”

“Wards?” Twilight perked up.

“Yes,” Cadance said. “The original plan was for me to maintain a spell to repulse him. However, Shiny owled the humans, and Arthur Weasley sent his son Bill Weasley.”

“We should have owled ourselves,” Rarity whined. “It would have been quicker than the train.”

“Eh, less hot tub time that way.” Rainbow shrugged.

“Wards,” Twilight prompted again.

“Yes.” Cadance nodded. “Bill Weasley cut a large crystal and engraved it with runes. I have to charge it every morning with the spell I was going to use, but otherwise it is hassle free. In fact, he’s around here somewhere. You’ll find him if you look -- him and Mellow Yolk, she is following him everywhere.”

“Sounds like you have everything under control.” Twilight wilted. “Celestia didn’t need to send me after all.”

Cadance frowned. “That’s not true. This is only a stopgap solution. The king is still a threat.”

“With Cadance guarding the ward stone and me scouring the wasteland for signs of trouble, our hooves are full,” Shining Armor added. “We haven’t even had time to question the crystal ponies.”

“Crystal ponies?” Rarity perked up. “There are crystal ponies?”

The rest of the ponies in the room shot her incredulous looks.

“Ha ha,” Rarity said. “Please continue.”

“We have to believe that one of them knows how to protect the empire without relying on Cadance’s magic. She can't keep this up forever,” Shining said.

“A research paper!” Twilight piped in.

“Huh?” everypony questioned.

“That must be part of my test,” Twilight clarified, “to gather information from the crystal ponies and deliver it to you!” The last was said with her poking her hoof at her brother. “This is going to be great. I love research papers.”

“I can get behind that,” Remus added.

“Yeah.” Rainbow quipped, “Who doesn’t love research papers?”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Pinky raised a hoof. “Let me guess. Is it Sirius? Fluttershy? Rarity?”

“All of the above,” Sirius said. “While you work on that, I’m going to the ward line and setting up a few nasty surprises for our unwanted guest. Would you mind sending one of your guards to look for Bill? I’m sure he knows a trick or two that would be helpful.”

“You know,” Twilight said thoughtfully, “that’s a great idea. You should take Cadance with you. Whatever you had planned would most likely be less effective than using love magic. Not to mention if you do base your surprises on love, the odds of you ambushing an innocent bystander by mistake drop dramatically.”

“Oh, I have love magic to spare right now,” Cadance said. “However, I need to guard the ward stone. Currently, it is our only defense.”

“Leave that to Remus,” Sirius said. “We’ve got a spell that is effective against the enemy.”

“I would like to get out of the throne room for a bit.” Cadance wavered.

“Actually, Sirius, why don’t you let me set up the surprises and you stand guard. I do have a mastery in defense,” Remus suggested.

“And I am a Black,” Sirius countered.

“Er . . . objection withdrawn.” Remus relented. “Why don’t we hide the ward stone and all go?”

Shining Armor sighed. “I’ll stand guard.

“Better safe than sorry,” Rarity agreed.

“Great!” Twilight hopped with excitement. “Now that that is settled, let’s get to it!”

It was a sullen group that sat around the large table in the trunk's living room. The telly was off limits until everyone else finished their homework, and there was nothing they could do to help. Tokens and cards lay scattered atop sheets of cardboard.

“I’m bored.”

“Me too.”

"I guess that's why they're called bored games."

“We could go to the mall.”

“How? Philomena has been ordered not to take us, and Parvati is still in the medical ward.”

“We could just owl ourselves to my cousin and then take the knight bus.”

“Ah think we should lay low on that front fer awhile.”

“I know what we can do. The last time I checked, there was supposed to be a curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. We could do something about that.”

“I like Professor Goodman. It would be a good idea to keep him around.”

“That’s a plan, then.”

“Cutie Mark Crusaders Curse Breakers!”

“Yay!”

“So, where do we start?”

“The library.”

“You always wanna start in the library.”

“It’s a good place to start, don’t you know.”

"And knowing is half the battle."

*smack*

“All right than, off ta the library we go.”

Applejack was the last to report to the makeshift war room after they had all spent the last couple of hours interrogating the crystal ponies. “Sorry Twilight,” she said. “These crystal ponies seem to have some kind of collective amnesia or somethin'. The only thing Ah was able to get out of 'em was somethin' about a library.”

“A library!” Twilight gushed. “Well why didn’t you say so?”

“Uh.” Applejack smiled. “Thought I just did.”

“All right then,” Twilight acknowledged, “off to the library we go!”

“Wait!” Pinkie exclaimed.

Her friends all gave her their undivided attention.

“Did anypony else just hear an echo?” Pinkie finished.

It wasn’t long before the six mares were looking at rows upon rows of bookshelves. The crystal pony who most likely had been the librarian hadn’t been much help.

“So,” Applejack said, “I guess we should get to it. That book on crystal pony history isn’t going to find itself, now, is it?”

“I got this.” Twilight grinned. “I’ve learned a new spell or two. Accio crystal pony history books!”

*Swisssh*

*Thump!* *Twack!* *Crash* *Whump!* *Twack!* *Whump!*

“Y'all may have pulled 'em a little too hard there, sugar cube, Applejack noted.

“Iiiii’m gonna go owl for Andi,” Rainbow stated before rushing out the front door.

“Good idea,” Rarity said, levitating several books off Twilight as Fluttershy started to tend to the fallen mare. “She may have just given herself a concussion.”

“Oooooo . . .” Twilight slurred. “. . . pretty stars!”

“Whada ya mean all of the curse breaking books are in the restricted section?”

Madam Pince fixed the gathered first-years with a stern gaze.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. We just need those books.”

“No, you do not,” Madam Pince said. “They are well beyond your grade level. I suggest you find something else to study -- for example, manners.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Scootaloo, enough.”

A white owl flew into the makeshift infirmary from an orthogonal dimension.

“You’ve got mail.”

“Rainbow!” Rarity sighed.

“Hello Hedwig,” Twilight said as the owl landed near her. “Got a letter for me?”

“Bark!”

“Don’t even think of levitating anything until I’m done examining you,” Andi warned.

“Ah’ll get it,” Applejack offered, retrieving the letter from the proffered leg.

“What’s it say?” Rainbow asked after the farmpony had unrolled the missive.

“It’s from the foals,” Applejack said, scanning the parchment. “They want books on curse breaking.”

“Oooo. That’s a fascinating field of study.”

“Twilight!”

“Okay. Okay. That’s a hard 'no' then.” Twilight blushed.

In the sitting room of stately Black Manor, two sisters were enjoying a new form of entertainment.

“I don’t get it,” Bella admitted. “Why is he angry?”

“It really is simple,” Nissy said. “You see, Alex realizes that Janice is trying to set him up because he knows that Frank is Maxwell’s brother and Amy is related to them through their maternal Grandmother. Therefore, the will has to be a fake because . . . hold that thought; I have an owl.”

Bella blinked as the white bird landed on the back of the couch. “How did it get in?” she asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Nissy said, reaching for the letter the owl carried.

“I hope that it’s an easier explanation than this soap theater,” Bella grumbled. “And you say muggles can follow this stuff?”

“Bella,” Nissy said warningly.

“I’m just saying that I’m going to need a quill and some parchment. I need to take notes,” Bella said, reassessing her previous analysis of muggle intelligence. “You did say that the muggles have had tellies for years and that this opera has been running for nearly that long.”

“Yes, they have a show every weekday.”

“It is the weekend,” Bella stated.

“You see that box?” Nissy pointed absently as she multitasked, reading the letter. “It is like a pensieve for the telly.”

“They can do that?”

“Apparently, yes.”

“We need more vials of memories then,” Bella said. “I don’t like being ignorant of what is happening.”

“They don’t use vials; they use those half brick things called 'tapes',” Nissy said.

“Are they sticky?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“He just slapped her!” Bella interrupted.

“Ooo . . . Janice isn’t going to take that lightly.”

“If she were a witch, she could hex him.”

“Bella.”

“What was that?”

“I do believe that was a muggle gun.” Nissy looked up from her reading. “I’ve seen so many varieties on the telly. It’s hard to keep track of them, but the sound is distinctive.”

“Why’d he fall down? Was that a muggle hex?”

“It is a weapon. It can kill.”

“You must be joking.”

“I am not.”

“Why are they stopping the show now?”

“The hour is up.” Nissy shrugged.

“I want to know what happens next!”

“You will just have to wait until Monday.”

“That’s annoying.”

“It is.”

“Are we done with the telly, then?” Bella had a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“After I write back to the children and let them know I shan’t be sending them books from the Black library, I will put in a movie. Ted has more than a few. See that shelf there?”

“Which one?” Bella studied what she had first thought were books.

“I don’t know. Pick one at random.”

“Okay.” Bella did just that and stared at an unmoving picture. “Hellraiser?”

“Sounds interesting,” Nissy admitted. “We’ll go with that.”

Open Book kept her eye on the owl as she used a quill to write a reply. “I am sorry, I cannot send books with your owl. If you wish to borrow our material you must appear in pony,” she wrote.

“Tante!” Crystal Cache called from the back room of Enchantment Essentials.

“Oui?” Mystic Book looked up from the owner’s manual she had been reading to figure out why her neighboring shopkeeper’s wares were appearing on her automatically-updating owl order pamphlets.

“The last owl. It letter wants books. It say that if we don’t have zem to buy zem from bookstore and we be reimbursed.”

“Books?” Mystic Book asked. “We have books related to our wares. Who would want us to be their errand ponies?”

“It is from Lavender Brown. She say she cannot come to Canterlot and she want us to get zem for her.”

“That little filly is friends with our human friends and is friends with the princesses. We will get her her books. Keeping her happy will be worth the time and bother.”

“A fair?” Sirius said as they sat around a large table, sharing an evening meal with their companions. “Now? Is that a good idea?”

“Yes,” Twilight bubbled. “The history book says that’s how they used to protect the empire.”

“I don’t see how a fair could do that.” Sirius dissented. “Even if it lifts the spirits of these ponies, I’m not sure they are in any shape to defend the empire.”

“There could be a ritualistic component involved here.” Remus mused, “All things considered, we wouldn’t lose much by pursuing this course of action.”

“Except time.” Sirius objected.

“We have the time to spare,” Cadance said. “I think you are underestimating the importance of keeping the morale of the ponies up. Besides, if the fair is as steeped in tradition as Twilight suggests, it is bound to impede or reverse the deterioration of these poor ponies’ memories.”

“I see your point.” Sirius conceded. “I am still advocating for increasing our defenses, though.”

“I don’t see why we can’t do both,” Bill Weasley said. “After all, only a limited number of us can actually erect magical defenses, and physical ones would be useless against this enemy. There is no reason why the rest need to sit around twiddling their thumbs.”

“We don’t have thumbs right now.” Pinkie reminded him.

“So, we have two tasks to complete then,” Rarity said. “I must say, I believe we are up to both of them.”

“You’ve got mail!”

“Thank you, Rainbow,” Twilight said dryly. “I hadn’t noticed the owl that just landed on the back of my seat.”

“Just thought I’d help,” Rainbow said smugly.

Twilight sighed as she floated the note the pouch-bearing owl had been carrying. “Let’s see . . . It’s from Lyra . . . hmm she told Xeno that we were going north to face an unknown danger and protect innocent ponies . . . yada yada . . . yada yada . . . He’s sending backup as a gesture of goodwill?”

“Backup?” Cadance asked.

“Yes, backup,” Twilight said, placing her horn on the owl’s pouch. Well, to be more accurate, she placed the owl’s pouch on her horn, levitating the startled bird into the proper position. “Ex dimittere.”

While the bird was vocalizing its disapproval over the ponyhandling, the pouch it wore expelled seven humans wearing the familiar robes of aurors.

“Hello,” said the first human to pick himself up, addressing the ponies. “Lord Black and entourage, I am Trainer Jenkins, and these are my students. We have been sent by Minister Lovegood to assist you as required.”

“Very good, Trainer Jenkins,” Sirius said with mock formality. “Though the first thing of note is that Princess Cadance outranks me and, therefore, is the one you should be addressing.”

“My apologizes.” The trainer paled slightly, turning to Cadance. “No slight was intended, your highness. I was unaware.”

“The crown she’s wearing should have been a clue,” Remus stated.

Cadance smiled, ignoring the byplay. “Please, there is no need to be so formal. In fact, as you see, we are sitting down to our evening meal. Why don’t you and your students join us? There is much we need to discuss.”

The familiar sight of words scrolling up the screen signaled the end of the feature length film the two sisters had just witnessed. Aside from music emanating from the box, there was an eerie silence in number 12 Grimmauld Place.

“That was something,” Nissy finally managed to say.

“It was indeed something.” Bella agreed

“The title had given me the impression that we were in for a drama about an angsty teenager rebelling against his parents and authority,” Nissy confessed, “not whatever that was.”

“It was very disturbing,” Bella stated.

“Indeed, it was.” Nissy agreed. “I never imagined anything of the sort before.”

“I know,” Bella said. “The sheer consternation of it. I never imagined I was a rank amateur before. The cruciatus may get results but in comparison it is plebian. Never before have I seen such terror in the eyes of playthings.”

“Wrong lesson, Bella!” Nissy snapped. “First of all, people are not playthings.”

“If you say so, dear sister.”

“Secondly, those were actors. It wasn’t real.” Nissy had some doubt in her voice.

“They were very convincing.”

“Bella, you are not to be getting any ideas from what we have just watched,” Nissy sternly commanded.

“As you wish, sister.”

Nissy placed her face in her hand. “I have just participated in the biggest mistake of my life, haven’t I?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Bella objected.

“So, help me, if I find just one chain with a hook attached on the end in either your room or on your person, I shall be committing you to St Mungo’s for the rest of your life,” Nissy threatened.

“I would never keep such a thing in my room.” Bella assured her.

Nissy waited for more.

Bella smiled innocently back at her.

“No, Bella,” Nissy said. “Just no.”

“You’re no fun, sister.” Bella pouted.

“Let us head off any future problems and purge that particular sense of fun from your mind.” Nissy sighed. “I am serious Bella; you cannot give even the slightest hint that you’d do something so hideous.”

“You worry too much, Nissy.”

“Right now, I am worrying that I am not worrying enough,” Nissy said.

“As you said, it is only entertainment,” Bella said. “It wasn’t real.”

“Let us keep it that way, shall we?” Nissy returned.

“Of course,” Bella said. “After all, it was only a fabrication. I am sure the shock alone should have been fatal in much of what we saw.”

“You are not helping your case,” Nissy said.

“Whatever do you mean?” Bella asked innocently.

“I swear, you are doing that on purpose.” Nissy sighed. “Regardless, I think I shall have a perusal of the family library at this time.”

“Looking for spells useful against cenobites?”

“Perhaps.”

“I shall join you then.” Bella stood to follow her sister from the room. “Nissy?”

“Yes Bella?”

“I could swear that grandfather said he never got around to opening that puzzle box he bought from that oriental curio dealer.”

“Bella.” Nissy growled.

Chapter 17: Intrusive Inventory Inspections

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There comes a time in every megalomaniac’s life when they come to the realization that Plan A is not going to work. Surprisingly, this is part of their fun; what is life without a little challenge? After all, one doesn't aspire to world domination without savoring the thrill of the unexpected. It also serves to rein in hubris; no matter how powerful one becomes, one must never become complacent. For this megalomaniac, it was clear that Plan A would not work; a direct assault was undoubtedly a non-starter.

Like leaves in a seer's teacup, many little things had come together to bring him to that conclusion. By themselves, none would have been more than a minor nuisance. He had sensed that the barrier had been hastily erected and actively maintained by a single pony, most likely the alicorn. Waiting it out would have been no problem, it’s main impact would be the draining of the caster’s magic, while he, himself recovered more of his own. That was the case until the spell had somehow been anchored to another power source, freeing his perceived most formidable opponent. That had almost been enough to force him to rethink his strategy.

The next threat came in the form of two specialists that the white soldier had collected from the curiously long wagon. He hadn't taken the time to take note of the cutie marks they borne; all he needed to know was they were obviously experts in countering dark magic. He had no experience with the spells that they had cast, but there was no way they could have been so effective without the backing of a related talent. He could only assume that the accompanying mares could wield magic that was equally annoying. The scars from his skirmish were more than enough to prompt him to reconnoiter before taking further action.

His subsequent scouting had uncovered an unknown variable. Even through the distortion of the barrier, he could tell that the outlandish creatures, whatever they were, were wielding magic in some manner. This was a threat he could not ignore. While he was confident that he could overpower it with raw might and his uncanny intellect, the uncertainty was too great to justify the risk.

He needed more information. His last gambit had already cost him a millennium. Impatience was sure to cost him the war. Frustratingly, the most direct path was fraught with potentially catastrophic hazards. Without the crystal heart, his enemies were far beneath him. However, they were far from insignificant. He was by no means retreating in the face of such paltry opposition; he was making a strategic withdrawal. One did not become a master sorcerer without investing time in research, and the long wagon left a trail that would lead him to where he knew he would find his answers.

He had no doubt that much had changed in a thousand years. He needed to understand those changes. He needed to know his enemy before he could reclaim his realm.

Plan A would be disastrous; only a fool would commit to a guaranteed defeat when other options were available. It was time to seek out those options. He would amass resources, both physical and magical. Those fools would learn that he had not been beaten. His victory was inevitable.

His laughter rose above the howling of the constant wind.

Time would once more be on his side.

The screams had been succulent, refreshing him on the most fundamental level. The terror in her eyes had been louder than the shrieks escaping her lips.

He was rejuvenated.

He wanted more!

More power!

It was his for the taking.

So many dwellings to choose from . . .

So many sacrifices . . .

After a few dozen, he’d have an aura again.

So much potential . . .

So much blood!

Time was on his side.

“I’ve found some that smells like candy floss,” the sickeningly sweet voice informed her . . . him.

He stared up with a look that would not have been out of place on a whipped puppy, the water from the bath dripping from both her mane and her -- HIS fur.

Oh, how she hated this woman . . .

. . . hated her more than the damnable Potter urchin . . .

“Once we are done here, I’ll brush out your precious coat. Won’t that be perfect?”

. . . more than Dumbledore.

This witch’s future would be one filled with pain . . .

“I know just the right way to style your mane.”

. . . lots of pain.

She . . . he just needed to bide his time -- if only time weren’t so bloody temperamental.

Time was on his . . . HER side.

“Feeling better Nissy?” Bellatrix asked as she followed her older sister out of the library in 12 Grimmauld Place.

“I always feel better after learning new spells,” Nissy returned. "True, nothing we found addressed the core problem directly, but it doesn’t hurt to be over prepared.”

“We can check again tomorrow;” Bella said. “I still want to examine that puzzle box Grandfather owned. Do you know where it is?”

“I’m telling you: it’s not the same thing.” Nissy huffed. “For one thing, the one grandfather owned was inlaid with jade and gems.”

“You haven’t ever seen anything like it?” Bella persisted.

“Don’t be obtuse,” Nissy scoffed. “I hav . . .” Nissy did an abrupt about face and headed back the way they had just come, a look of panic spreading on her face.

“Occlumency is a wonderful thing.” Bella beamed as she turned to follow.

There were protections on the door to which Nissy led them. These fell with a few swipes of Nissy’s wand, and the office beyond was readily revealed.

“How could he?” Nissy demanded, heading directly to a shelf dominated by knickknacks. “Is he daft?”

“Oooh.” Bella’s grin grew.

“Don’t even dream of it, Bella,” Nissy snapped.

“I want,” Bella declared.

“I asked you to survive,” Nissy interrupted. “I wasn’t talking about merely a couple hours. I need you around for at least a decade or two. I want you to see your grandchildren.”

“What are we going to do with it?” Bella asked coyly.

“You are about to be introduced to the muggle substance known as cyanoacrylate,” Nissy stated. "Now, with 103 uses."

The herd huddled within Apple Bloom's trunk assiduously ignoring its rustic decor.

“There’s nothing here.” Ron scowled, slamming his tome shut. “Just a lot of dumb theory, confusing charts, and boring babble. Not a spell in the entire book.”

“You need to learn the theory to cast the spells.” Hermione didn’t look up from where she was taking notes from her own book.

“I just said there weren’t any spells,” Ron snarled, getting up from his seat.

“No need to get all huffy like,” Apple Bloom chastised softly.

“Why don’t you colts go back to playing exploding snaps?” Sweetie asked.

“Not a chance.” Ron shook his head. “We still haven’t figured out what Dean is doing to the cards. Getting burned has stopped being funny.”

“That’s what the burn paste is for,” Abigail stated. “If you don’t want to help here, we aren’t forcing you to stay.”

“We’re almost out,” Ron said, ignoring the second half of her statement.

“Ah just made a new batch,” Apple Bloom declared. “It’s in the top cupboard.”

“We know,” Ron replied. “I repeat, we are almost out.”

“Already?” Apple Bloom looked up narrowing her eyes. “What have y'all been up to?”

“Just exploding snaps,” Neville said, also absorbed in a book. “Dean is getting better -- or worse, depending on your point of view. You should have seen Terisa; she is getting really annoyed at having to repair the couch for us. She demanded extra pony petting time.”

“Yeah, you’re the ones who are going to be paying for that,” Abigail said.

“Whatever.” Ron shrugged. “Neville, you want to play a round of chess?”

“N . . .no thank you,” Neville said, lifting his own book to show the title on the spine. “Who would have thought they had a book on plant-based curses?”

“You’re picking up some bad habits,” Ron said accusingly before redirecting his attention. “Harry, mate, how about a game?”

“Maybe later,” Harry said. “I was going to head down to the pitch and get some flying time in.”

“Good idea,” Ron said. “We can get the twins to lend us our brooms. I wouldn’t mind some time in the air either.”

“I was just going . . . yeah, we can do that.” Harry said.

“There’s a salve fer bumps an’ bruises in the top shelf of the cabinet.” Apple Bloom said helpfully.

“Won’t be needing any,” Ron said defensively. “I haven’t crashed in a good while.”

“Take it anyway,” Apple Bloom said. “Don’t hurt none to be prepared.”

“I’m coming with,” Dean chimed in.

“I’m in too,” Scootaloo added. “There are enough of us reading; you don’t need me to help.”

“Great!” Ron said, let’s go find Fred and George.”

Professor Babbling looked at the three sticky Gryffindors as her face fought down laughter, all the while maintaining a stern visage. “What in the name of Merlin do you think you were doing?”

“Cutie Mark Crusader Demolitions,” Seamus said, also having a conflict of emotions, though his were between pride and abashment.

“Why would you think that was a good idea?” Professor Babbling demanded.

“We took precautions,” Luna said. “We had an older student set up shields around the blast site.”

“Which was in the middle of the courtyard, I might add.” Professor Babbling said.

“Yes.” Lavender nodded. “We had him set up the shields and another transfigure us a nice replica building to practice on.”

Professor Babbling had a disturbing thought. “Did you have them transfigure explosives too?”

“No,” Seamus said. “We got them from Apple Bloom.”

“WHAT was Miss Bloom doing with dynamite in her possession?”

“She and Hermione had to finish them after catching Sweetie practicing her technique,” Luna said. “Dynamite is more stable than nitroglycerin, after all.”

“For the love of . . .” Professor Babbling started. “So, you just had to find something to blow up?”

“Yes,” Seamus said. “How else could we know what is the appropriate amount of explosive?”

“Though, we did have to find them first,” Lavender said. “Apple Bloom is good at hiding stuff.”

Professor Babbling huffed. “Ignoring the complete idiocy, how did you manage to get covered with sap? From a barrel two stories up, no less.”

Luna shrugged. “Ricochets?”

“Honestly,” Lavender added. “I wouldn’t rule out Sweetie’s having a hand in the manufacturing, being part of the cause.”

Seamus said, "It's more likely that the vibrations from the explosion tipped the barrel and things snowballed." His herdmates stared at him. "Maybe it was just Peeves."

“I would have thought you learned not to play with dynamite after the ‘dwarven fishing’ incident,” Professor Babbling snapped. “Which reminds me, dwarven fishing rods are on the banned items list.”

“They are only considered that if you fish with them.” Lavender shrugged. “The rule is specifically worded to prevent using dynamite to retrieve fish from the lake.”

“An oversight that shall be corrected,” Professor Babbling said.

“Besides,” Luna said dreamily, “we couldn’t find the shaped explosives.”

“Shaped?” Professor Babbling asked.

Eagerly nodding, Seamus said as he held up a pair of small coins, "You can concentrate all the power in a spot the size of my knuts."

The professor’s eyes went wide. “To the Gryffindor tower. Now. March!”

Andromeda Tonks finally found her two sisters when she barged into the manor's small workroom without knocking. “There you are,” she said accusingly. “Where have you been? Someone broke into Ted’s office; he doesn’t think any of his paperwork was touched but he’s missing . . .” She trailed off when she noticed the two other women were working on a cube of dried cement. Bella was carving runes while Nissy was filling the completed ones with a clear gel infused with little glistening gold bits.

“Hello, Andi,” Nissy said offhandedly as she concentrated on her work.

“I see,” Andi said as she picked up the hammer and saw.

“mmmm hmm,” Bella said, referencing an open book before placing her chisel back on the block.

“Those are some rather extreme protection runes you are carving there,” Andi ventured.

“Mmmm hmmm,” Bella repeated, striking the chisel with a small hammer.

Andi shifted her attention to her other sister. “Super glue and glitter?”

“Works surprisingly well.” Nissy nodded. “Exceptionally resistant after it sets.”

“I see,” Andi said. “. . . How did you get the cement to harden so quickly?”

“A bit of brewer's salt -- it's a muggle trick,” Nissy said.

“I see,” Andi said. “Let me go out on a limb here; you two found a certain movie in Ted’s collection.”

“Mmmm hmm,” Bella said.

Andi digested that for a few seconds. “I am going to have to go through the movies and remove anything inappropriate.”

“Please do.” Nissy nodded.

“Awwww,” said Bella.

Andi looked at the cement block on which her sisters were working. “I honestly can’t say that I blame you.”

“Mmmm hmmmm.” Bella tapped away with her hammer.

“Still, that doesn’t excuse your intrusion into Ted’s . . .” Andi started.

“Sister,” Bella asked.

“Don’t interrupt, I’m just getting started,” Andi admonished.

“Who’s Gordon?” Bella asked innocently.

What?” Andi asked, derailed.

“Who’s Gordon?” Bella repeated.

“Wha? Where did you hear that name?” Andi sputtered.

“I was examining the family tapestry and I was just wondering,” Bella said.

“What!” Andi exclaimed, clapping her hands together with glee. “It’s about time. I was starting to wonder about that girl! Oh, I am sooo happy! I can already smell the grandchildren!” Without another word, she rushed out the room, slamming the door behind her.

Nissy paused in her work long enough to take out her wand and cast some strong locking charms on the door. “I told you to wait until supper to ask her that,” she said sternly.

“It took her attention off us.” Bella shrugged. “Wasn’t it you who said I needed to start acting more Slytherin?”

“It was a waste of a perfectly good joke.” Nissy returned to her task.

“I disagree,” Bella said. “Besides, doesn’t she know grandchildren smell of sour milk and dirty nappies?”

“Someday you will learn that it’s the sweetest smell you can imagine.”

“I doubt it,” Bella said. “So, who is this Gordon?”

“Nymphadora is dating a griffin and Andi is convinced they are going to get married.”

Bella paused in her carving. “I understand each individual word you just said, but that statement made no sense.”

“It’s not that hard to figure out.” Nissy shrugged.

“I know it has been a while, but I didn’t take Nymphadora to be the type for bestiality,” Bella said.

“It is a valid relationship. You’ll see.”

“It beggars the imagination.”

“Just wait until you meet Sirius’s wives.” Nissy shrugged.

“Wives?” Bella blinked. “As in more than one?”

“Mmmm hmmm.” Nissy nodded. “Don’t you recall me mentioning it in the restaurant?”

“That may have slipped by me,” Bella admitted. “Are we to be expecting a litter or two of puppies in the near future?”

“I cannot, with any honesty, discount that possibility,” Nissy permitted.

“And the lot of you think I’m the one with the mental issues.” Bella pouted.

“I have to admit, you are behaving better than I was expecting.”

“I’m just acting,” Bella said. “Taking your advice about behaving like a Slytherin to heart.”

“You are joking, aren't you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Bella smirked.

“Don’t do this to me, Bella.”

“So . . . wives?” Bella asked.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.” Nissy smirked back.

Professor Babbling was walking down the corridor, levitating a large box, when Professors Goodman, Weiss and Berrytwist converged on her from one side while Professor Flitwick approached from the other.

“Bathsheda,” Professor Goodman said, “what’s the matter? You look . . . tense.”

Professor Babbling looked at the DADA professor and said. “Cutie Mark Crusader Demolitions.”

A nonzero number of facepalms were performed. “Please tell me Madam Pomfrey wasn’t involved” Flitwick squeaked.

“Thankfully, no,” Babbling said.

“What is it with those children?” Berrytwist demanded. “They know dwarven fishing rods are banned.”

“I foresee more than one lawyer coming from that group,” Babbling stated.

Goodman shuddered. “I don’t know which scares me more ‘Cutie Mark Crusader Demolitions’ or ‘Cutie Mark Crusader Lawyers’.”

“Both are nightmare-inducing,” Weiss said.

“Dare I ask? What’s in the box?” Berrytwist queried.

“According to Miss Bloom, ‘the heavy stuff’,” Babbling said.

Professor Goodman took a step closer for a better look, thought better of it and took two steps back. “Why do they have this stuff?”

Babblings sighed. “Just in case Greyback makes an escape. You should see their collection of silver armor.”

“I can’t say that I blame them,” Flitwick said.

“That’s your goblin half talking,” Goodman noted.

“What are you going to do with that?” Professor Weiss gestured to the box.

“I’m taking it out to the forest and detonating it,” Babbling said. “Care to accompany me?”

Goodman replied, "You know you could just vanish it."

"I know, but I bet Professor Trelawny that there would be an earthquake today."

“My sisters are so cruel.” Andi pouted as she entered her husband’s home office.

Ted looked up from the paperwork he was doublechecking to give his wife a horrified look.

“And, given who my sisters actually are, I should probably think before I say something like that.” Andi suppressed a laugh.

Ted nodded mutely.

“Anyways,” Andi said, “you know that expensive replica movie prop you’re missing?”

“I’m not getting it back am I.”

“You’re not getting it back. What’s more, you are going to go through your movie collection and remove anything impressionable minds might find overly stimulating.”

“Of all the movies we have, they had to go and watch that one,” Ted muttered.

“Literally any other movie would have been a better choice,” Andi asserted, "even if they found out what Debbie was doing in Dallas."

“This does nothing to allay my concerns over your opening statement, quite the opposite in fact.”

“Don’t worry; what they took from the movie was an overwhelming need to encase harmless pieces of artwork in cement and inscribe an array of runes on it.”

“How is that cruel?” Ted asked.

“When I caught them, in the act, Bella implied she saw Gordon’s name on the tapestry. Got my hopes up, she did.”

“Okay, I have to admit, that is cruel.”

“You realize I am going to have to pay them back.”

“Wait a minute.” Nissy stopped stirring the next batch of glue. “Puppies? How’d you know Sirius has a dog form? That didn’t come out until recently, and you haven’t exactly been following the news.”

“Really? I was in the cell next to him and sometimes he barks in his sleep.” Bella shrugged.

“And you didn’t inform the guards?”

“Please, he may have been on the wrong side, but he’s still a Black. Once we broke out, he would have come to his senses. Telling the guards would have been a waste of a potential advantage.”

*Boom!*

The explosion caused the four Gryffindors to pause their aerial activities. As one, they turned to look in the direction of the forest.

“What was that?” Scootaloo asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “Just how much dynamite did Seamus manage to find in Apple’s trunk?”

“Only three sticks,” Ron replied. “The decoys; she hid the main stash in my trunk when he wasn’t looking.”

“That was more than three sticks,” Scootaloo noted.

“Guys!” Dean said. “Something is coming out of the forest and is headed this way.”

“I don’t see anything,” Ron said.

“I do,” Scootaloo said. “Looks like a swarm of bees.”

“Those are some pretty big bees,” Dean commented.

“Whatever they are, they were just startled by the explosion,” Harry said. “Nothing we need to be worried about.”

“We need to go check on Seamus and the girls.” Dean started towards the forest. “There is no way that was anyone but them.”

“Right you are, mate.” Ron and the other two followed.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Terisa looked up as the screaming missiles passed over the courtyard. Ron was flying with all the speed an earth pony could muster while his herdmates desperately scissored behind him, knocking the fastest of their pursuers into each other. “Where did the firsties find a swarm of rampaging pixies?” Terisa asked.

“I don’t know,” Lucy said. “But it’s a good thing they have those brooms, kind of a bonus at avoiding the little buggers.”

The five professors stood at the edge of the newly-created ring of scorched earth.

“That was impressive,” Goodman said.

“Impressive?” Weiss replied. “You do realize this was in the hands of eleven-year-old children.”

“Strike impressive. That was scary,” Goodman said.

“I almost feel sorry for Greyback,” Babblings said.

“He’s safer staying a captive,” Berrytwist agreed.

“I think it is safe to say that we cannot let this slide with detention and some point loss,” Babblings said. “Muggle artifacts or not, this is the same as bringing a strongly cursed item.”

“It was thoughtless of them,” Flitwick said. “I will speak to Minerva; they are her cubs; thus, it is her responsibility.”

“I cannot believe they were able to acquire this stuff.” Weiss said.

“They made it.” Babblings corrected. “From scratch.” She ruffled in her robes and produced a book.

“What’s that?” Flitwick took the bait.

“Anarchist Handbook.”

“What exactly is it?” Weiss asked.

“The first muggle book to go on the restricted list,” Babblings said.

“I have the feeling that if we search their trunks, we will find more items for that list,” Goodman added.

“If not, we’d just have to let Miss Belle into the potions lab,” Weiss said. “We’d have no shortage of candidates that way.”

“I have just one question,” Berrytwist said.

“What’s that?” Babblings asked.

“Do you have another box? That was fun.”

Pansy never had this urge before. It was a desire born of a single experience, leaving her yearning for more. A single taste had left an indelible mark on her very soul. It was an unnatural act, and who knows what shame might follow if word of it leaked?

It wasn’t fair that she didn’t have the means to trigger the release on her own. Oh, to be offered a taste then to be forced to watch as others enjoyed the meal. That wouldn’t do. The sensations, the experience had been indescribable; she would not be denied.

She was a Slytherin. She would get what she wanted, get what she needed. All it would take was a little guile; some work of a quick tongue. She would have her prize; no one would be the wiser.

She could barely hide her trepidation as she dried her palms on her robes. “Greengrass.”

“Yes, Parkinson?”

“May I please borrow your ring?”

“. . . I do not see why not.”

That was easier than she had been anticipating.

In a repurposed room in the Crystal Palace, a war council was gathered, going over the day’s progress.

“Ah found a lot of booths in storage,” Applejack said. “We don’t have to make 'em from scratch.”

“That’s good.” Twilight marked the item off her list. “It will save time; this fair will be up and running before we know it.”

“You got mail.”

“Thank you, Rainbow.”

“Hello there Hedwig,” Applejack said. “No letter, so Ah’m guessing y'all have passengers.”

“Bark!”

“Hope it’s more backup,” Sirius said. “The auror cadets we have are great, but more help wouldn’t be unwelcome.”

“One way to find out.” Rarity said, leaning in with her horn. “Ex dimittere.”

Nopony was expecting what the pouch regurgitated.

“Uh . . . Hi,” Sweetie said.

“What are y'all doing here?” Applejack narrowed her eyes at the herd of foals. “Y'all know yer not allowed to leave the school without permission.”

“We kinda got suspended,” Harry said. “For a week.”

“Suspended?” Remus asked.

“That’s impressive,” Sirius said. “We never managed that in seven years.”

“Mmgool mad,” Magah offered.

“Don’t encourage them, darling.” Rarity narrowed her own eyes. “How did you manage to get suspended?”

“There’s this unreasonable bias against explosives,” Scootaloo complained.

“We weren’t planning on using them,” Abigail added.

“Speak for yourself,” Seamus said.

“Yer starting to worry me,” Apple Bloom said.

“I am going to get that explosives cutie mark,” Seamus insisted.

“I’m speechless,” Twilight said, “completely speechless.”

“Y'all are in a load of trouble,” Applejack promised.

“They just owled you back?” Rainbow asked. “That seems sort of strange.”

“They sent a letter, too,” Apple Bloom held up a scroll.

“Let me see,” Applejack said before unrolling the missive.

The room was quiet as she read.

“Well?” Rarity asked when the farmpony sighed and rerolled it.

“Go stand in tha corner,” Applejack said.

“There are only four of them,” Ron replied.

“The walls are crystal,” Luna noted.

“Stack yerselves!” Applejack snapped. “Ah don’t want to talk to y'all right now.”

“How bad is it?” Rainbow asked.

“They had an item that earned them an automatic suspension.” Applejack frowned. “An’ they had items that are going ta be added ta the restricted list. An’, they are now banned from playing with pixies.”

“We weren’t playing,” Ron objected.

“Muzzle in the corner.” Applejack said. “The professors are going to search all of their trunks just to be on the safe side. They’ll be sending an updated restricted list before the foals are allowed to return.”

“So, we can sic them on King Sombra, now?”

“Pinkie!”

“What? You were all thinking it.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Princess Cadance!”

“I’m just saying. They did capture a werewolf.”

“We are not using the foals to take out Sombra,” Twilight stated.

“That would be cruel,” Remus said.

“To the foals or Sombra?” Shining Armor asked.

“Can we please drop that line of thought.” Rarity asked.

“Besides.” Pinkie said. “I forgot to pack the popcorn.”

Everypony stopped to share looks among everypony else.

“No!” Twilight said. “No, we are not going to do that.”

“I kind of want to see what they’d do.” Sirius admitted.

“Sirius!”

“Me too.” Rainbow said.

“Rainbow!”

“I guarantee it would be something we didn’t consider,” Shining Armor said.

“We are not having this conversation.”

“What is it you want us to do?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“Yer supposed to be staring at the corner.” Applejack said. Glaring at her own sister, she snarled, "How could you do sometin' so irresponsible?"

“Ma herd's bein' threatened," replied Apple Bloom with equal venom. "Ah'm no good with fancy words. What's that phrase? See somethin' or other?"

Hermione started, "Si vis pacem . . . "

Harry's voice rose above the others'. ". . . para bellum."

Chapter 18: Harried Hydra Hide

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For once, things were going according to plan. After time immemorial, he was finally having a steady stream of good luck, a steady stream of new mana. He could now use his reserves to increase the collection rate. The two women bound with streams of pure power were testament to that. They hadn’t even been that hard to capture. He had merely walked into their dwelling, ignoring their screaming. A few spells later and they were trussed up and awaiting his pleasures. He almost suspected that they were aware that they were about to augment his growing power.

He didn’t have an aura yet, but he would before the day ended. Soon, he would be able to make longer reaching plans. In ten days or so, he’d be able to claim the body of a young man; he would no longer be relegated to this dismal existence he had experienced for far too long. He would rule once again. Nothing could stop him.

Neither of the women had ceased their screaming, yet they still managed to raise their volume when he raised his weapon and took a purposeful step toward them. What an exquisite sound -- pity he would be putting an end to it. He could already taste the added power.

Before he took another step, the door to the dwelling exploded inward. The surprise forced him to hesitate for a precious split second. A man with an extravagantly-carved tree branch rushed in, with others easily seen behind him.

Good, new sacrifices were coming to him. Less time spent on going and finding them.

He had raised his knife to channel the spell that would add the newcomers to his collection when someone else summoned thunder.

He had no idea who had attacked. He was too busy flailing away as he watched as the air bent, slamming into his small form and disrupted his concentration, forcing him to drop his spell.

Before he could muster a counterattack, he was buffeted by yet another fist of air. The roar of thunder followed close behind. Thrice more in a steady cadence, he suffered the indignity of having thunder taunt him as he was juggled by the wind. Vaguely, he noticed the other men; they also had the carved tree branches. Those must have been some kind of magic staff. Whatever they were, they were effective, for the steady drum beat of thunder punctuated every blow. A glint of metal alerted him that he had been disarmed. Morbidly, he watched the knife and the limb attached to it sail across the room.

Desperately, he flailed for the mana the manabenders must have been using. Inexplicitly, they seemed to be able to block him. He could feel none of their mana.

The tempo increased, and he could feel his current body steadily being shaken apart. He had gotten too greedy, and was now paying the price.

With a silent howl, he abandoned his progress. He could feel the presence of more dolls. He would just have to move on and start over. At least he was able to keep enough of his gains to be able to continue passive collection of mana.

Someone would pay for the indignity. It was only a matter of time.

The modest suburban living room had an avian guest. Mrs. Thomas sighed after reading the letter the owl had brought. “Dear!” she called out.

“What’s up?” Mr. Thomas asked, wandering into the room.

“Dean and his friends got suspended from school.” Mrs. Thomas frowned. “They owled him to Mrs. Applejack for the duration.”

Mr. Thomas blinked in surprise. “Why’d they send him there instead of home?”

“I signed a form that gave Mrs. Applejack in loco parentis rights, just like all the other parents from England did,” Mrs. Thomas said. “The children are a herd, and it is easier on the teachers to treat them as such. They are already stressed by the new workload and changes in the curriculum.”

Mr. Thomas sighed. “What did he get suspended for? Fighting?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Thomas admitted. “This letter is from Mr. Mac. Apparently, his sister is somewhere not appropriate for children, so the kids were sent to their farm. Looks like he just scribbled out a quick note to let us know where they were.”

“Did they want us to pick him up?”

“No idea, would you mind riding the owl and go remind Dean how to behave properly?”

Mr. Thomas looked at the patiently waiting white owl. He relented. “I suppose I should.” After a heartbeat, he asked, “Where are we going to put him if I bring him back?”

“He can sleep on the couch.”

Emma Granger looked at the letter in her hand in bewilderment. “Dan?” she called out.

“Coming,” came Dan’s voice as Emma noticed a lightly-glowing rune on the owl’s pouch.

Dan Granger came into the room just in time to be serenaded by the pouch regurgitating an unknown man.

“Hello,” Emma addressed the man.

“Hello,” he echoed, standing up and throwing the owl a disturbed look. “This doesn’t look like a farm.”

Emma did some quick calculations before saying, “I think Hedwig is doing the rounds before heading back to the farm. I assume you are Dean’s father?”

“That’s me.” Mr. Thomas nodded. “So, Dean wasn’t the only one to get suspended?”

“Looks that way.” Emma grimaced.

“Hermione got suspended?” Dan asked. “Our little girl is becoming a delinquent?”

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to handle this.” Emma sat down in a nearby chair. “It’s a good thing that she’s made friends, but suspended?”

“I’m thinking they must have gotten into another fight,” Mr. Thomas said. “Normal children being stupid.”

“Hermione doesn’t pick fights.” Emma shook her head. “In fact, we’ve sent her for basic defense training when we were worried about all the bullying she was going through; and she still let the bigger children intimidate her.”

“Times are a changing,” Dan said. “She’s gotten a big confidence boost since going to her new school.”

“They did pick a fight with that criminal.” Emma paled at the memory.

“Dean’s not the type to go looking for trouble,” Mr. Thomas said. “He will back up his friends though.”

“We are jumping to conclusions,” Dan said. “They were probably being picked on and responded accordingly. It happened to me more than once. The school doesn’t care who started it; everyone gets suspended.”

“Who is going to pick on someone who beat a bloody werewolf into a bloody pulp?” Emma dissented.

“Someone with something to prove,” Mr. Thomas said.

“Or someone who didn’t receive their allotment of brain cells,” Dan added.

“I suppose we should go and get their side of the story.” Emma started to get up from her seat.

“I’ll handle it,” Dan said. “This is probably a good time for our daughter to face the wrath of the ‘stern’ parent.”

“So, you want me to go while you stay here?” Emma asked.

“I was going to be the stern parent,” Dan stated, seemingly offended.

Emma barked a laugh but her heart wasn’t really in it.

Dumbledore looked around at the collection of professors in his office. He still wasn’t happy that his deputy had decided to suspend a good portion of the first-year class, but all of the children involved had had forms filled out removing him from the disciplinary decision making. “I assume you have completed your inspection of the children’s belongings,” he said to the room in general. “Is there anything else that needs to be added to the restricted list.”

“Just stun guns,” the Muggle Studies professor said. “Professor Goodman managed to ferret some out in the end.”

“Oh?” Dumbledore said, unfamiliar with the objects in question. “And where is the good professor?”

“Pomfrey said she’d release him shortly.” Berrytwist said, obviously unhappy. “She doesn’t expect any complications, but he did receive a shock to his system.” Frowning, she added, "I told Marcy not to touch the big red button."

“Nothing else of note then?” Dumbledore gave a grandfatherly smile.

“You mean besides the collection of silver weapons and armor?” the Muggle Studies professor asked.

“Indeed.” Dumbledore nodded.

“Miss Bloom has an impressive potions lab.” Professor Snape said. “She’s been brewing potions that would be too difficult for the O.W.L.s. I shall be keeping a closer eye on her.”

“We have an extraordinary batch of students this year.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “We should not want to discourage such innovation.”

“Speaking of innovation,” Professor Babbling said, “somehow, don’t ask me how or how accurate it is; they have compiled a list of the last words uttered by everyone ever to attend Hogwarts.”

“Really?” Dumbledore’s interest was piqued.

“It was sorted by house and frequency,” Professor Snape said.

“It is rather heartwarming,” Professor Sprout added. “The number one entry for Hufflepuffs is ‘I love you’. It’s enough to bring tears to your eyes.”

“You would think it’s heartwarming.” Professor Snape sneered.

“Hush now,” Professor Weiss said. “You’re just upset that the Slytherin’s most common last words are ‘Hmmm, this wine tastes off’.”

“I find my curiosity has raised its head.” Dumbledore said. “What of Ravenclaw?”

Professor Flitwick seemed to be suppressing pride as he answered, “It was ‘Hmmm, that’s funny’.”

“How appropriate.” Dumbledore beamed. “And Gryffindor?”

“I hardly see the point in this exercise.” Professor McGonagall lips thinned as she projected a stern visage.

“Now Minerva,” Dumbledore chided.

“Don’t mind her,” Professor Babbling said. “The words were ‘Hold my firewhisky and watch this'."

“Hello Granny,” Dan said as he picked himself off the farmhouse’s floor. “Big Mac around? We got his letter.”

“Howdy.” Granny Smith looked at the pack of humans that had just arrived at her house. “Ah’m afraid he’s a little preoccupied right now. Potent Potpourri has done and treed him again. He’ll be along sooner or later.”

“I think we should open by thanking you for taking care of the children, and apologize for the hassle they have caused,” Mr. Brown said.

“No hassle,” Granny said. “This is why y'all got one point o’ contact. They tend ta get in trouble as a herd. Besides, tha hog pens needed a good mucking out.”

“So? How bad are the damages?” Mr. Finnigan asked. “The letter was short on details.”

“Did they throw another attacker out a tower window?” Arthur Weasley asked.

“Nah.” Granny Smith shook her head. “The foals done got caught with enough explosives to bring down that there tower they live in.” She stood patiently and waited for the silence to pass.

After a few seconds, Mr. Brown said. “Is anyone else getting tired of the fact that the first thing to run through your head after hearing what your child has done is to wonder if the person telling you is joking or not?”

“Why on Earth did they have so many explosives?” Dan exclaimed.

“Jus’ in case Greyback breaks out,” Granny said. “Y'all need to teach them that there’s a difference in being prepared and being … ah got no word fer it.”

"Overkill?" suggested Dan.

“How is it possible to feel sorry for a murderous werewolf?” Arthur wondered.

“They really do have it out for Greyback.” Minister Lovegood spoke up for the first time. “I’m tempted to let him out of his cell and tell him to start running. I’m sure he’d crawl back before his trial next week.”

“If he’s capable a crawling, that is,” Mr. Brown said.

“Ah see tha mares have sent their stallions.” Granny broke in. “Is that a human thing?”

“I guess so,” Dan said. “Emma wanted to come, but I talked her out of it. Likewise, Augusta and Elisa decided to let us handle the punishments.”

Granny Smith shook her head. “Like Ah said, ah got 'em scrubbing the hog’s home. After that, Ah got no plans; it don’t make much sense ta kill thar self-preservation instincts.”

“That’s a stretch,” Dan said, “tying hording explosives to self-preservation instincts.”

“Makes me worried over what they’d do if they ever felt really threatened,” Mr. Brown added as he gingerly touched a recently regrown chunk of his throat.

“Ah’m more worried over what they do when they’re bored,” Granny countered. “At least when they are threatened, they have something else to focus on. Fewer random victims that way.”

“I suppose we should go have a word with them.” Dan sighed. “I can’t fault them for being worried, but they can’t be allowed to stockpile explosives. Where did they get them, anyway?”

“They made 'em,” Granny stated.

“They what?” said several of the males in the room.

“In mah day, foals made cutsie art projects.” Granny shrugged. “Ah have no idea what goes through tha heads of young’uns nowadays. Y'all ever hear about tha last hydra to rampage around these parts? Tha ponies in tha local garrison joke that hydras now have a flee on sight order against the Crusaders.”

“Right.” Arthur wiped his face with his hand. “Where are the children?”

Granny pointed with a hoof. “Tha pig pen is that-a-way. Jus' follow yer nose.”

One could be excused for thinking it was a Tuesday in Ponyville. Carts and barrels were overturned everywhere. Several houses were reduced to rubble and the residents were standing in the street, staring off in the distance with looks of shock on their faces while a familiar trio of mares lay senseless in the street.

“Just how dangerous is Diamond Tiara’s new pet?” Taro Root wondered out loud.

“That’s a stupid question,” Solid Streak snapped.

“Obviously more so than cursed cake,” said Vanilla Cream.

“I’m just glad it’s on our side,” said Cherry Blush

“I did not know that hydras scream like little fillies on helium when they’re terrified,” stated Hallowed Candle.

“Maybe it’s just afraid of snakes,” Sound Rebar suggested.

“You’ve got to admit, that’s a big snake,” Cloud Kicker added.

“That left ‘big snake’ a long time ago, blew right past ‘Sweet Celestia that’s an enormous snake’ and graduated to ‘are you sure that’s not a dragon crossbred with a worm?’” Cherry Berry said.

“I’ve seen smaller dragons.” Umber Shine noted.

Minuette coughed into her forehoof, "Spike."

“At least this will be easier to clean up after than the last hydra.” Mayor Mare sighed.

“You’d think they’d learn not to wander around here,” Taro Root said.

“Would somepony please wake the flower trio?” asked Mayor Mare.

“I may need to visit the hospital,” Minuette said. “I think all those heads screaming at once ruptured my left eardrum.”

The fathers met a fellow parent on their way to the pig pen. Bon Bon was only too happy to join the march toward the inevitable foal disciplinary session. Bracing for the expected stench, Mr. Brown reached out and jerked the door to the barn open. He wasn’t the only one bewildered by the sight to meet them. Everything was clean to the microscopic level. The hogs were all huddled in a corner, obviously traumatized with their skin actually sparkling.

The culprits had not finished. Scootaloo and the boys were surrounded in the center of the building. The rest of the girls had a spectrum of ribbons and were aggressively mixing and mismatching colors.

Harry turned toward the groan of the rusty hinges. With a pleading look, he whined at the newly-arrived adults. "Help us! Please help us!"

“This is cruel and unusual punishment.” Scootaloo added.

In a disconnected tone, Neville said to no one, "The horror. The horror."

"Ground us!" begged Dean. "Yell at us! Anything is better than this!"

The parents filed inside, gawking at the complete lack of any hint of decomposition.

“How?” Dan waved a hand, gesturing to the building in general. "This is cleaner than a surgery."

“Hmm?” Luna hummed as she tied a yellow ribbon in Dean’s hair. “Oh, we’ve gotten really good at casting scourgify.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle frowned. “There isn’t always time to take a bath after getting covered in tree sap.”

“I think the periwinkle one would look good in Ron’s hair,” Abigail added, holding up a ribbon matching that color.

“Would you please just make us stand in the corner or something?” Ron wailed.

“Why am I on the receiving end?” Scootaloo moaned.

“Should we interrupt?” Minister Lovegood chuckled, forgetting why they were there in the first place.

“Yes, please,” Seamus pleaded.

“I’d say this was proper punishment if half of them weren’t enjoying it,” Bon Bon said. “I like that lime green one; it would be perfect for Harry.”

“Mum!” Harry protested.

“What?” Bon Bon asked. “It doesn’t match your eyes but offers a nice contrast.”

“Nah,” said Mr. Finnigan. “If you want a contrast try something like fuchsia.”

Dean moaned.

“Low blow,” Dan remonstrated. “Gather 'round children; we have things to discuss.”

“Why are you all in human form?” Bon Bon interjected. “Pony form is warmer.”

“It’s easier to cast in human form,” Hermione said with a shrug.

The herd was just starting to shuffle toward their parents when they heard the first of the screaming.

“What’s that?” Mr. Brown demanded as the ground started to shake.

“Sounds like a little girl on helium,” Dan said, racing for the door.

“Several of them, actually.” Mr. Thomas added. “We need to help!”

Arthur yanked open the door with his wand drawn only to stop dead at the sight.

“Hey!” Apple Bloom yelled at the retreating forms. “Watch tha trees!”

“That was a big bloody snake,” Mr. Finnigan gasped.

“Don’t worry, that was only . . .” Hermione stopped to look at Sweetie Belle. “What did Diamond end up naming him?”

“No idea,” Sweetie admitted.

“Tha trees,” Apple Bloom dejectedly moaned, waving at the disturbed plant life.

“What was he chasing?” Ron asked.

“That was a hydra,” Scootaloo stated.

“You’ve got some serious pests around here,” Seamus said.

“Do y'all have any idea how long it takes to grow a tree from a seed?” Apple Bloom moaned.

“They didn’t get too many of them,” Abigail said soothingly, patting Apple Bloom on her shoulder.

“That there pest needs a squashing,” Apple Bloom fumed.

“Cutie Mark Crusaders Pest Control!” Lavender declared.

“Yay!”

“What we got on hoof ta handle this?” Apple Bloom demanded.

“Not much, they got all of our explosives,” Seamus said, crestfallen.

“Only most of 'em,” Apple Bloom said. “Don’t matter none with the rest being at tha castle.”

“They’ve confiscated the flame throwers.” Dean frowned.

“Would that work anyway?” Ginny asked.

“It’s not a dragon.” Luna hummed. “No fire resistance.”

“Anyone have a ballista in their pocket?” Harry asked.

“No, but we could build one,” Scootaloo suggested.

“That would take too much time,” Sweetie Belle vetoed.

“The river is frozen over.” Hermione thought out loud. “We could lure it onto the ice and then let Dean and Seamus have at it.”

“Instant hydra-sickle,” Lavender said approvingly.

“That’s a plan,” Apple Bloom said. “Scootaloo, you and Harry go get its . . .”

“Wait!” Mr. Thomas yelled. “Stop! Just forget it! You are not hunting hydras.”

“I’m going to go owl to request for some members of the Magical Creature Control department.” Minister Lovegood squeezed past the individuals blocking the doorway. “They’ll have a fit if I leave them out of this.”

“By the way, what do you mean they only got most of them?” Bon Bon turned looking directly at Apple Bloom.

“We do not have normal children,” Arthur sighed as he closed the door behind the departing man.

Morning had broken, albeit not quite as dramatically as the Ponyville garrison. Once more, the site had come to life. The excitement of the previous day had somehow rippled through to this secluded part of town. In the ensuing chaos, the construction ponies expanding the facility had somehow managed to destroy every amenity. Consequently, the guard ponies were now enjoying the rustic charm of field conditions as they attempted their morning briefing over the din of heavy construction.

“Listen up!” barked Sergeant Shortbread. “We have a new game plan for the foreseeable future.” This caught the full attention of everypony present, even the construction ponies. “There has been a hydra spotted in the vicinity. As such, it is now our top priority.”

“It’s about time,” commented Private Fauna. “They are an essential part of the local ecosystem; we’ve been working our hooves off ever since the last one wandered somewhere it wasn’t welcome.”

“From what I hear, the new one has already wandered through the town,” added Private Flora.

“Ran through, more like it,” said Private Goldbrick. “After its encounter with a local pet, it won’t be hard to persuade that certain areas are to be off limits.”

“How badly damaged was the town?” asked Corporal Phantom.

“Not even Tuesday level,” replied the sergeant. “Merely an inconvenience. They just had to pull a few houses out of storage and do a bit of cleanup.”

“This is the only town I know of that has spare houses at the ready,” said Fauna.

“So, just the basic grunt work of training our new hydra then?” asked the corporal.

“There is a complication,” Shortbread said. “Our new charge has already managed to upset the Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

A round of groans rolled through the collected ponies.

“What?” asked Private Patsy. “Who are the Cutie Mark Crusaders?”

“They are a local herd of foals,” Goldbrick answered.

“Remember the good old days when there were only three of them?” asked Fauna.

“Wait,” said Private Patsy. “I know I may be new here, but are you telling me that we have to protect an apex predator from a group of harmless foals?”

“Are you trying to get us to redefine our definition of harmless?” asked Flora.

“This job just got a whole lot harder,” groaned Goldbrick.

“By the way,” said Private Fading Violet shyly. “You shouldn't take any bets against the Crusaders.”

“You’re yanking my tail," huffed Patsy. "There’s no way foals are more dangerous than a full-grown hydra.”

“Do you want to bet?” asked Fading Violet.

“They’re the ones who blew up our last hydra,” said Fauna.

“Horse apples!”

“You know, the normal initiation to the Crusaders is drinks for the squad,” said the corporal. "Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"

“I thought they went back to their foreign school,” said Goldbrick.

“They will be in the area due to being suspended for stockpiling explosives,” said Shortbread. “We only have to worry about them for a week.”

“Plenty of time to blow up the new hydra,” groaned Goldbrick.

“It’s your job to see that doesn’t happen,” said Corporal Phantom.

“Would you all stop trying to pull the wool over my eyes?” said Patsy. “I’m not falling for it.”

Sergeant Shortbread sighed. “You’re just going to have to see it to believe it. Anyways, there are new humans floating around; they want to observe how we handle a hydra.”

“Humans?” asked Patsy. “Those minotaur-like things that all the mares are raving about?”

“One and the same.”

“Are any of them unattached stallions?” asked Fading Violet hopefully, and not so quietly.

“No fraternizing on the job,” commanded the corporal.

“You just want them for yourself.” griped Fading Violet.

“I’m not that greedy,” said Phantom. “I’ve heard what one can do with a dose of pepper-up potion.”

“So, share?”

“Don’t be so quick. Fooling with them is an instant herd.” said Fauna.

“I fail to see the problem with that.”

“I didn’t say it was a problem; I’m just saying you're going to want more than just two mares.”

“If you don’t mind?” said the sergeant. “We have actual work to do.”

“That’s what we were talking about,” said Fading Violet.

“Work that we are getting paid to do,” the sergeant corrected.

“It’s just a harmless hydra,” Patsy snarked.

“You’re getting better with that word, but you still need some work.”

“Get up y'all.” Apple Bloom hopped up and down on her bed, disturbing the pony pile still slumbering away.

“Whazzup?” Dean slurred. “More chores?”

“Nah,” Apple Bloom returned. “Mah brother is being a right grump and says he’ll take care of the downed trees by himself an’ Granny was right impressed by tha job we did on the pig pen. She told me ta stay out of trouble an' go have some fun.”

“That’s a surprise,” Hermione said sleepily.

“She chuckled all funny-like when she said it,” Apple Bloom admitted. “Ah think she’s been taking lessons from Discord.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Dean asked with his eyes still closed.

“After breakfast, we're going ta deal with that hydra, teach him not to knock down helpless apple trees,” Apple Bloom said.

“We’re not allowed to go out hunting it,” Abigail objected; disappointment clearly in her voice.

“We can’t, but we can set traps. Teach him ta stay away from the farm.”

“What did you have in mind?” Seamus perked up.

“Nothing explosive,” Apple Bloom said and Seamus sighed, reclosing his eyes and lowering his head. “Ah haven’t exactly decided yet either.”

“It’s not like we don’t have a load of new books on curse breaking,” Harry said.

“But that’s for removing traps, not setting them,” Ron objected.

“You need to know how they work to take them down,” Neville said. “There are some plant-based traps I’d like to try.”

“We’ll give that varmint what’s fer,” Apple Bloom said.

“All right, let’s get to it,” Ginny said.

“I wonder what hydra tastes like,” Sweetie added.

In the Great Hall, Terisa looked at the girl scowling down at her plate. “Don’t take it so hard,” she advised.

“How can I not take it hard?” Parvati said. “All of my friends are off having adventures, and I’m stuck here taking notes.”

“I’m sure they aren’t having adventures,” said Terisa. “They are more likely being punished for getting suspended.”

“I should be with them.” Parvati pouted.

“Don’t say that too loudly,” Lucy whispered. “Else, the professors will remember that you should technically be suspended too.”

“It’s not fair.” Parvati continued to pout.

High noon marked the end of the morning patrol, and the squad of guard ponies was eagerly returning to base for lunch. Hopes for a routine end to their morning were dashed by an indescribable stench. Grimacing, they double-timed toward the source.

When they reached a local park, they were horrified by what they found. Something long and thin was writhing on the grill. Somehow, the foals gathered around it seemed to savor the scent of searing flesh.

Private Patsy stumbled as his squadmates shoved him toward the ghouls. Doing his best to hold down his bile, he demanded, "Why aren't you foals in school?"

“We got suspended for a week,” a thestral filly said. turning away from the wriggling abomination. “It’s okay though; we were ahead of everyone else in our class.”

“Sweet Celestia,” gagged Private Fauna. “Is that what I think it is?”

A yellow colt with red mane and tail shrugged. “We only managed to get the tip of its tail.”

“We aren’t allowed to use explosives,” complained an ivory white unicorn colt.

“Bugger is surprisingly fast,” a blue pegasus colt griped.

“Ah think we may have learnt him not ta mess with the Apple farm,” said a yellow filly with a pink bow in her mane.

“How much longer?” whined a white unicorn filly.

“Be patient,” said a fluorescent orange unicorn filly. “The insides are probably still pink.”

“That’s how I like it,” said the white filly. “Cut me off a slice.”

“Could you at least wait until it stops moving?” complained a small red unicorn filly.

"But . . . but . . . but we're herbivores," sputtered Private Patsy.

The fluorescent orange filly replied, "Technically, we can process a little animal protein in this form."

Licking her lips, the white filly said, "I can't wait to change."

A fuchsia colt said, "Did anyone bring the barbeque sauce."

“Got it right here.” A light grey thestral filly held up a bottle.

Private Patsy blanched before turning to the rest of his patrol. “I’m buying the first round tonight, aren’t I?”

“Yup.”

Interlude 2: Bits O' Stuff

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For all of her life, one little centaur had dreamed of being someplace where she belonged. She had yearned to be accepted by her tribe despite the fate that had awaited her. It had been an unattainable dream, more elusive than the smoke rolling off the campfires. Her tribe simply did not see any value in allocating sparse resources, time, or effort on an individual who would not reach her majority. They had not been unkind about it; that would have taken effort. They had simply neglected her. She had been destined to die alone, unmourned, without even a corpse to mark her passing.

While she had been awaiting her fate, the unthinkable had happened; she had made a friend. Somehow, her place in the weave could no longer be seen. Her tribe had finally taken notice of her. Her tribe had cast her out. Now, she found herself at the mercy of the most dangerous creatures her tribe had encountered -- humans.

The elders had been adamant that the monsters must be avoided at all costs. Their cunning was renowned, as was their treachery. They ignored the voices of the land, the water, and the sky, defiling all for reasons known only to themselves. At best, they could be expected to hunt centaurs down like animals. At worst, they would spread their corruption to the tribe.

Licenta had had no idea what she was really doing when she had accepted the offer of her pegasus friend. She had been shocked to discover that Rosie and her sister Eva were actually humans wearing the skins of the winged horses. Shock had turned to relief when they had taken her in as one of their own. The most dangerous creatures in the world were treating her better than her own tribe ever had. At long last, she was where she belonged, but where she belonged was completely new.

Every sense had been bombarded with things never before encountered. Everything she experienced had threatened to overwhelm her. Her first friend had been her shield, keeping the strangeness at bay so that she could concentrate on one thing at a time. It was clear that she was finally out of the woods.

The first miracle had been the food. There was no longer any need to forage. There was no longer any need to hunt. There was no longer a need to scavenge for scraps. Food came ready to prepare in things that Rosie called "cardboard", "glass", "plastic", or "tin". The textures, the colors, the aromas, the flavors were a cornucopia of discoveries, wonderous and mostly wonderful. She still had her doubts about the brussels sprouts.

Of course, these changes came with new rules and new customs. Eating the salt directly from the small container on the kitchen table was not acceptable, nor was pouring a cup of it from the large blue container in the cupboard. That had kicked up a fuss among the adults, who had not known how to react to Licenta’s behavior. Luckily the school’s new nutrition expert had come to the rescue, and Licenta now had her prized possession . . . a salt lick . . . on a stick. Granted, it was more work than the small white grains, but it was all hers.

There was also the matter of cover. She was now expected to wear at least two layers over her torso whenever around others, and the coat she was expected to wear outdoors was an added hassle. These had seemed overly warm and scratchy at first, but Licenta had quickly come to appreciate the added protection, despite the inconvenience of seemingly constantly putting things on and taking things off. She now understood why the humans always wore clothing. She could no longer fathom why her own people were so firmly against the practice.

Her new life was by no means perfect. The rotary multitool was but one serpent in her paradise. She still shuddered when she thought about Rosie's father taking that infernal device to her hooves. It had not been painful, per se, but it felt like that mechanical banshee was going to shake her legs apart. Only Rosie's constant encouragement had kept her from fleeing in terror. Granted, her hooves were now polished to a mirror shine, but this was an experience that Licenta was not looking forward to repeating.

She was still ambivalent about the indoor rain that Rosie called "shower". It was not necessarily the bracing spray to which she had been accustomed. With a bit of adjustment, she could make it as hot or cold as she wanted. The first time, Rosie's mother and grandmother had kept things warm to the touch, and they had spent an hour with Licenta, scrubbing every square centimeter with washcloth or brush, commenting on the steady stream of mud that flowed down the drain.

Her life was nothing like what it had been. Licenta had food, warmth, and family. She was going to school and was spending her free time playing with Rosie and sometimes Eva. She had made friends with other children in her class, and they were accepting her more than her tribe ever had. She had so much more than she had before; the most important thing was something she had no idea how to put into words. She had a future.

Paperwork was nothing new for Mayor Mare; in fact, it pretty much defined her existence. Still, there was a rhythm to it that she had come to expect and cherish. There was a certain order and tempo on which a pony could rely. Budget reports came in on Mondays, Tuesdays were for reviewing the reports of the local services, Wednesdays were when she filled out the insurance claims, and so on and so forth. Today, however, there was an unexpected addition to her normal routine, something that normally wouldn’t come in this volume until springtime.

Scrunching her muzzle, Mayor Mare looked at her assistant and asked. “Did I miss something? What’s with all these herd agreements?”

His visit to the school’s healer had confirmed the worst; Dudley was going to die. He was sure of it. Every waking moment, he could feel something gnawing away at his insides. Slowly, painfully, he was wasting away. Despite Dinky's reassurances that things would turn out for the best, he was positive there would be nothing left of him. His visit to the school’s healer had confirmed the worst.

The potions that were being forced on him could only blunt the ongoing agony. He had nothing to look forward to but despair. The magical world was to be the bane of his existence. It would claim its pound of flesh and much, much more. It would claim his last breath.

Why had his parents sent him here?

Why would they expose him to such torture?

Did they really want him to waste away to nothing?

Crying had not moved the nurse. She had been unrelenting. His course of action was set in stone. His demise foreordained and inevitable.

The world was coming to an end.

After all, the word itself meant to die, even if it poorly disguised itself with the addition of a "t".

The unthinkable had happened. Bitter rivals, sworn enemies, had come together, not to battle for supremacy, but to address a common foe. The tension in the room had broken hours ago, leaving hopelessness and acceptance in its place. Doom was coming, and no one knew when or in what manner. Running wasn’t even an option; that much was obvious. It was only a matter of time. After all, only the government could make so many people disappear without a trace, and they could reach further than any present could flee. So, the many men and the few women in the room drowned their sorrows with liquid oblivion. They hadn’t seen the signs at first, but once pointed out, their impending doom was obvious.

Their competition was disappearing. It was an almost linear pattern. The bobbies must have been getting help from the new magical cops, and the resulting partnership was devastating. Those high up, once thought to be untouchable, had simply vanished off the grid. There had been no news of trials or arrests; they were simply gone. The government had gotten a clue and was no longer playing around. They had declared war and were turning out to be surprisingly efficient about it. The criminal element had sat up and taken notice.

There had been one gang that had decided to take the fight to the streets, refusing to go down with a whimper. They had planned. They had collected men and weapons. They had organized a morning strike that would have rocked the city and dominated the airwaves.

They had been next.

The attack never happened and no one knew what became of them.

They were just gone.

There had been no sign of a struggle. The men and weapons were just no longer there. They had been some of the most vicious members of the underworld, gathered in one place. Any one of them was a person to be feared. Many had connections and lawyers that would, at the very least, have delayed their incarceration.

They were just gone.

It was happening everywhere. It had to be the government.

Somehow, they had gotten properly organized.

The end was coming.

The end strolled into the room as if she owned the place. “Gentlemen, ladies,” she said smugly, swishing her long blonde hair to the side. “Thank you all so much for gathering in one place. This will make things so much easier for everling involved.”

Those present rose to their feet, brandishing their weapons of choice. Knives, bats, knuckle dusters, and guns -- lots of guns.

They would not accept their fate.

They could not accept their fate.

At the very least, this woman would not survive the day.

Knives were brandished.

Bats were hefted.

Knuckles were cracked.

Guns were cocked.

….

And yet not a single shot was fired.

Not a drop of blood was spilled.

Not a single scream was uttered

They were just gone.

Inspector Winston was at a loss of words. The situation was beyond horrible -- a walking horror movie, both literally as well as figuratively. It was enough to make you pinch yourself several times just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. It was hard to decide where to start.

Dispatch had dismissed the initial call as a hoax. It was that outlandish. Luckily, several of the local residents had air rifles and had taken matters into their own hands; otherwise, the death toll would have been higher.

It was bad enough as it was. The perp hadn’t discriminated with his victims. There had been enough blood spilt to fill a bathtub -- easily half of a neighborhood had become an abattoir. This should never have happened.

A small tin found its way into the inspector’s hand and he quickly popped an antacid into his mouth.

They weren’t even sure if the danger had passed. The magical bobbies had sent, for lack of a better term, a forensics team. The news from them was not encouraging to say the least. They could not detect any magic in the doll’s remains. There was no question that magic had been involved, but it was akin to a criminal wiping the scene of their crime clean of all evidence. No, that wasn’t true; there was plenty of evidence, bathed in blood. There just weren’t any leads. The wizards were just as upset as he was at the development. According to them, they had already destroyed one such menace and they weren’t sure what relationship this incident had with the last beyond small feet and a love of sharp knives.

There had to be precautions to take. A public panic was almost assured, but keeping this quiet would only ensure that repeats, if any, retained the element of surprise. Worse, the facts were annoyingly sparse, a direct inverse of the conjecture. The main suspect was some bloke going by the name of Lord Voldemort but that magical bobby admitted it was just an educated guess.

Then there was the whole chicken or the egg question. Inspector Winston was going to have to contact the movie studio with questions about the origin of the story. Were they copying the killer or was the killer copying them?

The common room was warm, cozy, and inviting, exactly what one would expect from the Hufflepuff domain. Clouded Hope was more than content. She had friends -- real friends. She had more food than she could properly handle. In fact, her entire hive had more food than they could consume. She was no longer required to send her harvest back via owl; the surplus would only take up valuable storage space. Having to learn to throttle her collection of love was an unprecedented hardship, one that she was only too happy to master.

Clouded Hope had made a mistake, though; she had started giving her excess to the humans. They had taken to the love honey like no one’s business, eating it on crackers and toast. Her disposal of her surplus had had an unexpected effect on her dormmates. They were emitting more love than they had been previously, so much so that it was getting harder and harder not to passively skim the free food. Clouded Hope was almost positive that the two pregnant upper-years were a direct result of the Hufflepuffs’ new favorite treat, leaving her responsible for Professor’s Sprout’s insistence that contraceptive potions be taken by all.

“Ghost!”

“That was old the first time you did it,” Angel Down remonstrated.

“Can’t help it.” Cherry Laurel replied. “What’s up?”

“I am.” Angel Down smirked.

“Yeah, yeah, you can fly.” The maid groaned. “You won’t shut up about that.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“Hello, earth pony here,”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Angel Down said. “I’ve heard the princesses talking about flying earth ponies in Ponyville.”

“I’ve heard about that too,” said Cherry Laurel. “I’m from there, remember? Anyways, I don’t like the idea of crashing into the ground.”

“It just takes practice. Besides, the trick is to aim for the ground and miss.”

“I don’t have the time,” the maid said, picking up her mop bucket in her mouth. “Did you want something?” she said around the handle.

“A conversation,” Angel Down said. “Besides the princesses, you are the only pony who doesn’t run when they see me.”

“Which reminds me, the head chef wanted me to ask you to tone that down until after they get a new shipment of lard. Their supply is running low.”

“That’s not really my fault.”

“It took two full tubs to get that last diplomat out of the barrel.” Cherry Laurel snorted.

“She needs to go on a diet anyway.”

“I’m sure you scared a few pounds off of her.”

“Out of her, anyways.” Angel Down shrugged. “That mess she left on the floor wasn’t very nice of her, or sanitary for that matter.”

“Thank you for that, by the way.” Cherry Laurel pouted. “Who do you think had to clean it up?”

“You aren’t the only maid in the palace,” Angel Down said. “You should demand some assistance for these messes they keep telling you to manage alone.”

“I’m the only pony that will go near areas you’ve been spotted.” Cherry Laurel groused.

“I did try and help you with that.”

“And Frilly Duster is still upset over having to change all her records to reflect her white coloring,” Cherry Laurel replied.

“I fail to see how that’s my fault.”

“She used to be orange before you snuck up on her.”

“Oh . . .sorry.” Angel Down winced. “I was just upset that she was standing around doing nothing while you were picking up all those cabbages.”

“Believe me, she could tell you were upset.”

Pleasant Thoughts was walking down the street of her new home town with her daughter Crisp Lick trotting by her side. She had accepted a rather unique job offer. It almost seemed too good to be true. She was to open an office in this small community with the understanding that her services would be free of charge for all residents. In return, she would be provided a house and a set, comfortable salary. In truth, the salary was more than competitive compared to what she had been making. There was sure to be a lighter work load. After all, how many clients could there be for a psychiatrist in a small town? Her greatest fear was being unable to find something to occupy her sure to be copious amounts of free time.

The one downside was Crisp Lick being a little put out at being uprooted from the big city, but like all foals, she would adapt. The slower pace of life would be good for her. Pleasant Thought’s daughter had even forgotten her anger as the two of them explored their new surroundings. The ponies they met were all friendly and seemed happy that they were to be new residents.

The first hint that things were not going to be as smooth as Pleasant Thoughts had hoped came as a large shadow darkened the world around the mother and daughter. Before she could register the situation, three giant heads descended, only for one to rise, firmly holding her daughter in its mouth. Then, the mass of muscles was off, carrying Crisp Lick to her doom. It happened so suddenly and swiftly that it took Pleasant Thoughts several seconds to start screaming. It took several more before she started pumping her legs to gallop after the monster with dim hopes of recovering her daughter. It took seven more for her to realize that she was not moving from her spot. Then two more passed before she realized that one of the local unicorns was levitating her with an amused look on that sadistic mare’s face.

“Calm down, calm down,” the blue unicorn shouted at Pleasant Thoughts. “She’ll be fine.”

“What?” Pleasant Thoughts shouted. “How can you say that? Didn’t you see what that monster did?”

“Don’t worry,” said a mare standing behind a flower stand. “That was just Fluffy.”

“Fluffy?!”

“Our town’s truant officer,” added another mare by the flower stand. “You’ll get used to him.”

“Truant officer?”

“Yeah,” said the third mare behind the flower stall. “He still hasn’t gotten the notion that some foals aren’t supposed to be in school some of the time.”

“Ironically, the Crusaders have been playing ‘dodge Fluffy’ all day,” said the unicorn still holding her aloft.

“It is kind of funny watching him run through here with one or two of them in his mouths every now and then,” said a mare walking down the street. She shuddered. “I still don’t want to know what Sweetie was eating as she was enjoying her last ride.”

“I’m still surprised that Fluffy’s left head backed down after she growled at it,” said yet another mare.

“That filly is scary,” added a passing pegasus mare.

Pleasant Thoughts sighed and stopped pumping her legs. “I suppose I’m going to get a lot of the local foals as patients. I can’t help but think that must be traumatic.”

“Nah.” The unicorn holding her placed her back on the ground. “They’re used to it. So, you’re the new psychiatrist, then?”

Pleasant Thoughts nodded her head, staring off in the direction her daughter had been hauled.

“The foals have been making a game of it,” said the first flower mare. “They’re keeping score.”

“I’d be more worried about an outbreak of ophidiophobia if I were you,” added the second flower mare.

“Or pemmaphobia,” stated the third flower mare.

“That’s a rare one,” Pleasant Thoughts commented.

“Not around here it isn’t,” said a mare who had approached to greet the doctor. “In fact, I have the first appointment with you lined up for just that.”

A wall-eyed pegasus mare crash-landed into the clearing. "Well, that takes the cake."

Everypony else groaned.

Chapter 19: Too Many Blessings

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The sky was her domain. There could be no other words for it. No other explanation would she accept. Everypony had told her that it could not be; yet, here was proof to the contrary.

The wind whipped through her mane as she executed yet another death-defying loop around a tiny hoofbridge followed by a barrel roll around a clothesline. Rainbow Dash could not have executed the maneuvers any more smoothly. It was irrefutable proof that she should be the first of her kind to join the Wonderbolts. She may have been born an earth pony, but the skies were in her blood, coursing through her veins.

Grinning widely, she aimed upward at a steep angle and started to reclaim the altitude lost to her last stunt.

“You really need to stop stealing the foals’ brooms,” Cloud Kicker stated, swooping in next to her side, matching her ascent.

“I’m only borrowing one.” Cherry Berry smirked at her friend. “Besides, they have to go to school soon. I’ll make sure it’s back in time for recess.”

“You said the same thing yesterday.” Cloud Kicker snorted. “What time was it when we finally managed to drag you back down to the ground?”

“That was yesterday; this is today,” Cherry Berry argued.

“Which is why I’m shutting you down right now,” Cloud Kicker said. “We need your help preparing the town.”

“My help?” Cherry Berry turned her head to watch her friend flapping at her side. “What exactly do you need my help with?”

Cloud Kicker huffed and crossed her forelegs. “Seriously?” she said, cocking an eyebrow at the mare on the flying stick. “The way you’re acting, you’d think it wasn’t a Tuesday with the Crusaders in town for a week.”

“Oh.”

“'Oh' is right.” Cloud Kicker scrunched her muzzle. “The flower trio have already gathered enough sandbags to surround their house, and Bulk Biceps has actually dug a moat around his, which is where the flower fillies got the material for their bags; so, I guess they are technically dirtbags.”

Cherry Berry paused for a second before saying, “I can’t believe I just stopped myself from pulling a Twilight.”

Cloud Kicker snorted. “You’ve been living here too long to even consider uttering words like that.”

Cherry Berry nodded before asking, “So, what are the odds on the new hydra being involved in some way?”

“You’d have to bet seven bits just to win one,” Cloud Kicker replied. “Good luck on finding somepony willing to take that bet.”

“I suppose Vanilla Cream is placing bits on cake being involved in some way,” Cherry Berry said.

“I haven’t confirmed it, but that would be a safe bet.”

“So, where have you placed your bits?” Cherry Berry inquired. “I have mine on the Crusaders being on brooms at the time.”

“You’re going to lose that one,” Cloud Kicker said. “I’ve heard that they’ve left their brooms back at their school.”

Cherry Berry deflated. “Well, the town still has a shed full of brooms for the foals,” she said hopefully.

“A shed which you are intimately familiar with.” Cloud Kicker snorted. “I just went with the basics this time, myself. If the screaming starts between noon and one, I’ll treat you to a hayburger afterwards.”

“Shouldn’t you be saving your bits for your new colt?” Cherry Berry prompted.

“Nah,” Cloud Kicker said. “There are seven of us in the herd; if we all do nothing but treat him, he’ll get spoiled.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Cherry Berry said. “I know it’s new and all, but how is his attitude towards the six to one odds?”

“I’ve yet to see him without a smile plastered on his face,” Cloud Kicker said. “Remind me to thank Discord again. That trip to the human world was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“I’m still kicking myself for missing out on that,” Cherry Berry grumbled. “Still, are you sure you’re not stressing your new colt too much?”

“Let’s just say that it’s true what they say about pepper-up potions. And, we are being careful to follow the directions on the label.”

“So, no downsides then?” Cherry Berry asked.

“The goblins are upset that their team of cursebreakers has been distracted.” Cloud Kicker shrugged. “Other than that, it’s been a dream come true.”

“It really sucks that I missed it.”

“Well, if you didn’t spend all of your spare time stealing foals’ toys, you would have been present.”

“Borrowing. I put it back when I’m done,” Cherry Berry said. “Besides, in a couple more weeks, I’ll have saved up enough bits to get that mid-ranged broom I’m looking at. Bon Bon has already promised I can borrow Hedwig for another trip to the human world.”

“Wait.” Cloud Kicker missed a flap. “You can do that?”

“Sure, why not?”

Cloud Kicker face-hoofed. “I know more than one mare wanting to skip this particular Tuesday in Ponyville.”

In the farmhouse at Sweet Apple Acres, the foals sitting around the breakfast table all stared at the eldest in the room, displaying a range of surprised looks.

“What do ya mean we ain’t going inta Ponyville today?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Ah mean, yer giving that there hydra a break today,” Granny Smith said. “Yer liable ta give everypony a heart attack if’n you go cooking another part of it in the park.”

“Mmmmm . . . twitchy, sticky hydra tail.” Sweetie Belle drooled.

“Now you just empty yer head of any such thoughts,” Granny ordered the small white unicorn. “Yer not ta go within a hundred yards o that beast. If’n y'all had a lick o' common sense, I wouldn’t be needing ta tell ya that.”

“We know,” Ginny answered for her herdmate. “We aren’t going to go looking for the hydra; it is strictly off limits. If we see it, we will run in the opposite direction, like we’ve been told a dozen times.”

“I still can’t believe the guards got us a restraining order for the thing,” Scootaloo griped.

“Ah can’t believe they needed one in tha first place,” Granny said. “What were y'all thinking in tha first place?”

“We kept it off tha farm.” Apple Bloom said defiantly.

“Not all of it, so I hears.” Granny countered. “'Sides that ain’t yer job; it’s fer tha guards ta be doing.”

“Yes, Granny.” Apple Bloom sighed, not wanting to restart the same scolding they had received the night before. “We’ll leave it alone.”

“Good,” Granny said, eyeing her grandfilly. “Now that that is out of the way, Dan Granger has agreed ta take the day off o' his job jus’ so he can watch y'all in the human world fer tha day, keep you out from under hoof as they get tha new hydra adjusted fer living around these parts.

“All right, Granny,” Apple Bloom said, going back to her meal.

“See that y'all mind him properly,” Granny said, turning to walk from the room. “Ah don’t want ta hear of y'all picking fights with werewolves or anything like that.”

After watching her leave, Seamus spoke up. “Maybe we should have told her that we were planning on disassembling the rest of our traps today.”

“Nah,” Lavender said. “We’ll do that tomorrow.”

“What if the hydra wanders by in the meantime?” Hermione inquired.

“Then it gets another lesson,” Dean said. “You know, Harry got lucky going home with his mums last night; he missed most of the nagging.”

“I’m glad I stayed here,” Neville said. “My gran would have been a lot worse.”

“Compared to yesterday, today is going to be so boring.” Ron sighed.

Dylan and his apprentice were preparing for a slow day in the shop when the white owl wearing one of his pouches arrived. “Hello, Hedwig,” he said cheerfully as he walked over to the avian who had just landed on his counter. “Rather early for a visit, isn’t it?”

“Bark!”

“Or does someone need me to fix their kitchen again?” Dylan asked brandishing his wand. “Ex dimittere.”

The results of those words gave new meaning to the term "multicolored yawn".

“Good morning,” Dylan said to his shop full of colorful ponies.

“Hello,” replied at least twenty voices, all female and filled with more than a little hope.

“Can I help you?” Dylan prompted.

“We’re just here for a little sightseeing,” Taro Root said, batting her eyelids.

“Are you married?” added Vanilla Cream.

“Twenty years happily,” Dylan replied. “If that’s what you’re after, you should talk to my apprentice over there. Er, well, he was over there just a second ago.”

One of the display trunks rattled as if someone just bumped into it.

“Oh, I see he’s been practicing his disillusion spell,” Dylan commented.

“I don’t see anything,” Banana Fluff said, peering at the trunk.

“That’s kind of the idea,” Dylan informed her.

Nissy paused in buttering her toast when the owl landed on the back of the vacant dining room chair. “Good morning, Owlowiscious,” she said, reaching for her wand. “I see you have a passenger.”

“Who.”

“A passenger?” Bella asked, looking up from her plate of eggs.

“Watch,” Nissy said, placing her wand tip on the pouch the owl wore. “Ex dimittere.”

A few seconds later, Bella and Nissy were looking down at a petite woman wearing a scowl.

“Good morning, Rainbow,” Nissy said pleasantly. “You’re just in time for breakfast. Won’t you please join us?”

Rainbow looked around uncomfortably before saying, “I really can’t. We’ve got so much work to do today for the fair and all. I just need to talk to Andi real quick.”

“Oh? Did Twilight knock herself out with books again?” Nissy asked.

“Nah, it’s . . . well . . . it’s something I’d rather not talk about.”

“Sister dear, you’re being rude,” Bella chimed in.

“Oh, sorry.” A slight blush crept over Nissy’s cheeks. “Bella, this is one of Sirius’s wives, Rainbow Dash-Black. Rainbow, this is my sister whom we have been telling you about, Bellatrix Black, formally of the Lestranges.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rainbow said. “Look, I’m sorry to barge in like this, but I really need to talk to Andi.”

“She and Ted haven’t come down for breakfast yet,” Nissy said. “And you’re not barging in; this is your home as well, is it not?”

“Yeah.” Rainbow laughed weakly. “I guess it is.” She got to her feet. “I guess I’ll go up and wake her then.”

“It’s her day off,” Nissy said, “I think she might want a lie in.”

“I really don’t want to go to the hospital.” Rainbow shuffled. “I figured she could fix me up quick.”

“Hospital?” Nissy asked. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t think . . .” Rainbow started.

“I know the basics of healing.” Nissy stated. “Now spill it.”

“That’s kind of the problem.” Rainbow winced.

“That’s not helpful,” Nissy huffed. “Let’s start with the basics. Are you going to die?”

“I don’t know,” Rainbow admitted. “Maybe.”

“What a peculiar reaction from one about to die,” Bella said playfully.

Rainbow shuffled her feet and looked down. “It’s just . . . It’s just that I’m bleeding.”

“Bleeding?” Nissy asked, alarmed. “Where? Show me!”

“It’s embarrassing,” Rainbow whined.

“Rainbow.” Nissy had steel in her voice. “Tell me where you are bleeding.”

Rainbow Dash told her.

Nissy blinked and brought her hand to cover her mouth in shock.

Bella laughed, “How, do you not know?”

“Know what?” Rainbow demanded, her voice somewhat shaky.

Nissy was also laughing softly by this time. “Rainbow, dear, that’s normal. Humans bleed like that on a regular basis. It’s nothing to overly worry about. You just need to take some precautions.”

“Humans bleed like this normally?” Rainbow’s voice was filled with incredulity. “How? Why? Why am I just now hearing about this? Why haven’t one of the stallions mentioned it. I can’t see them not complaining about it. It’s not like we don’t have seven of them with us. They could have said something.” Her voice was getting a tad shrill near the end.

“Oh, men don’t do that; only women bleed,” Nissy said. “Just ask Alice.”

“Men don’t bleed like this?” Rainbow’s voice was definitely shrill at this point. “How is that even fair?”

“Trust me,” Bella said. “It’s not.”

“This is . . . This is . . .” Rainbow sputtered. “Why didn’t Twilight warn me? She’s been turning human longer than I have. She should have told me!”

“Turning human?” Bella asked.

“I’ll explain later.” Nissy waved her sister off. “After she calms down.”

“I AM CALM!”

“Is she a griffin? That would explain Nymphadora’s beau.”

“Not now Bella.”

“And the hair. Is that natural?”

“Bella.”

“Why didn’t Twilight warn me?!”

“Maybe she forgot,” Nissy suggested.

“How do you forget something like this?” Rainbow growled. “She nitpicks way too much to not say something about this!”

“You may be overreacting some here,” Nissy replied.

“Maybe it hasn’t happened to her yet,” Bella said. “If you’re just experiencing it for the first time, why wouldn’t she?”

“That’s not possible,” Nissy said. “Twilight has a couple months on Rainbow here. She should have . . .” her voice cut off as a thought struck her.

Bella looked at her sister and raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Rainbow asked, sensing that she was missing something important.

“Andi!” Nissy screamed in the direction of the upstairs bedrooms. “Get down here now!” It was her turn for her voice to sound shrill.

“Hello and welcome. We interrupt your normally scheduled program for a special edition of 0921 SAW PONY.” The anchorman smiled winningly at the camera.

“In breaking news, roughly two dozen individuals are currently wandering around the greater London area,” said his partner, a vivacious blonde. “They were observed leaving the hidden wizard pub, the Leaky Cauldron, less than a half hour ago.”

“To clarify, normal people still cannot see the pub, but the ponies appeared near its known location,” said the anchorman.

“Of course; thank you for that reminder,” replied the blonde, somewhat annoyed. “There has not been a concentration of ponies like this seen before.”

“True.” The anchorman nodded. “The incident with the werewolf had fewer participants.”

“And these ponies appear to be full grown adults.”

“Our correspondent, Heather Roseford is on the scene with a first-hand account of the historic event,” touted the anchorman.

“Can we switch to her?” The blonde looked off to the side, prompting an unseen individual.

Anyone watching the news would have seen a scene change and have been treated to the sight of humans and ponies dancing in the street, completely disrupting traffic.

“. . . to explore and experience,” sang Hallowed Candle.

“Welcome to a whole new world!” chorused the humans cavorting with the ponies.

“This place is just rife to make dear friends for life,” sang Taro Root.

“Welcome to a whole new world!” chorused the humans.

“Hopefully opening the door for something much more,” sang Cherry Berry.

“Welcome to a whole new world!” chorused the humans.

The scene snapped back to the two reporters. “Suddenly,” said the blonde, “the reports of backed up traffic make more sense.”

“I’m sure they could have managed that without the singing,” replied the anchorman.

“Well, the ambassador, Lyra Heartstrings, did warn us about heartsongs,” said the blonde.

“I must admit, I thought she was exaggerating,” the anchorman confessed.

“Looked like fun, though,” the blonde noted.

“I wonder where the music was coming from,” mused the anchorman.

Twilight Sparkle looked at her efforts and smiled.

Remus looked at the large crystal and grimaced. “You failed art class, didn’t you?”

“What!” Twilight sputtered. “No. I . . . I . . .”

“I got to admit, shooting cutting spells from your horn is impressive,” Remus said soothingly.

“It’s a rushed job.” Twilight looked at the rough heart shape.

“I can tell,” said Remus.

“Do you think you can do any better?” Twilight demanded.

In response, Remus wordlessly pointed his wand at the crystal. Its form seemed to melt before reforming into a perfect multifaceted heart shaped crystal.

“Transfiguration is cheating,” Twilight groused.

“Oh?” asked Remus.

“Showoff,” Twilight huffed.

Remus just smiled as he cast a spell causing his work to levitate inches over the pedestal and slowly start spinning. “You want to try improving the pedestal?” he asked.

Twilight concentrated and pointed her horn. This time, the form of the pedestal melted and was replaced by a work of art, complete with crystal roses and hummingbirds.

“Who’s the showoff now?” Remus said, circling Twilight’s latest effort.

“Yes, well.” Twilight smirked.

“Now, you might want to try doing the same to the other side as well. You know, just for symmetry.” Remus said.

Twilight’s smirk fell off her face.

“It’s nice work,” Remus said, rushing to reassure the purple pony. “Just incomplete.”

“What’s incomplete?” Andi asked, leading her sisters and Rainbow into the room.

“Hello, Andi.” Remus nodded. “Ladies. It’s been a long time, Bellatrix.”

“I’m just practicing my transfiguration,” Twilight said, answering Andi’s question.

“Nissy,” Bella interrupted. “I’m only going to ask you once. What did you put in my eggs? I’m this close to convulsing over all these bright colors.”

Nissy sighed, “Bella meet Twilight, she’s Sirius’s first wife.”

“Siri is married to a unicorn?” Bella huffed. “I always knew he was a goodie two shoes but this is beyond ridiculous.”

“Bella,” warned Andi.

“At least she’s not pink, like the one who let us out of the owl’s pouch,” Bella continued.

“Not now, Bella,” Nissy said.

“If not now, when?” Bella snapped. “I’ve just been immersed in a candy-colored fantasy.”

“Just let me do the checkup,” Andi said. “Hold your snarking for a minute or two.”

“Fine.” Bella snorted. “I’ll just collapse right here; don’t mind me.”

“Bella.” Nissy started.

“Don’t 'Bella' me.” Hands splayed out to gesture at Twilight. “She’s a purple unicorn! A purple unicorn! That’s not even taking into account the pink one with wings and a crown we were just talking to! Next thing you’re going to tell me is that multihair over here is a unicorn as well!”

“Actually, I’m a pegasus.”

“Arrrrrrgh!”

“Someone needs a calming draft,” said Twilight.

“I’m still sitting in my cell,” Bella muttered. “I’m sitting in my cell and have lost all touch with reality.”

“Actually, you seem saner than I remember you were when you went in,” Remus said.

“Remus!”

“Sorry.”

“Let’s just do what we came for,” Nissy said. “I don’t think Bella can take much more.”

“Right,” Andi agreed. “Twilight could you go human for me? I need to check something.”

“Huh?” Twilight asked.

“I should have checked this the other day, but I didn’t want you to strain yourself, and I must admit, I specialize in humans,” Andi said.

“Okay,” Twilight said and stood up as a human.

“Well, at least she’s got.” Bella made an unmistakable gesture.

“Wait until you meet Pinkie,” Remus said.

“Remus!”

“Sorry.”

“Pinkie?” Bella queried.

“Sirius’s third wife,” Andi informed her.

“She’s pink, isn’t she?” Bella asked. “Of course, she’s pink; who am I kidding.”

“Sirius went for small, medium, and large.” Remus said.

“So, I’ve just met large then?” Bella asked.

“No.”

“She’s not exactly small.” Bella gestured towards Twilight.

“Wait until you meet Pinkie. It's as easy as A, C, and double D.”

“For goodness’ sake!” With a sigh, Andi muttered some words and started scanning Twilight with her wand. “I can’t believe I missed this,” she said dejectedly. “I specifically checked for it, yet still missed it. Something about your unicorn form blocked my readings.”

“What are you talking about?” Twilight asked, starting to get worried.

“You’re pregnant.” Andi said bluntly.

. . .

“WHAT!”

“I said you’re pregnant,” Andi reiterated. “Congratulations.”

“How?!”

“Do you really want me to go over the mechanics?” Andi asked.

“I think she’s already figured them out on her own,” Bella said.

“N-n-no,” Twilight sputtered. “I mean mating season hasn’t happened yet. How could I be pregnant?”

“You see, when a boy likes a girl.”

“Bella!”

“She was asking.” Bella pouted.

“When did you develop a sense of humor?” Remus asked.

“I had to do something with all of my spare time,” Bella said.

“Could we keep some focus?” Twilight demanded. “How could I possibly get pregnant?”

“Well . . .”

“Seriously Bella, let it go.”

“But she keeps asking for it.”

“Twilight,” Andi said. “Humans are fertile year-round. In fact, Rainbow came face to face with a facet of it this morning.”

“I did?”

“The bleeding.” Nissy nodded.

“Oh.”

“You’re bleeding?” Twilight said worriedly. “Where?”

Rainbow told her.

“I could have lived without hearing that,” Twilight commented.

“Me too,” agreed Remus.

“Now you’re just being a wimp.” Bella sniggered.

Pinkie was setting up a booth devoted to crystal corn on the cob when the group from the castle sauntered into her view.

“Hi!” Pinkie waved as she bounced over to her friends. “You’re just in time. The first batch of crystal corn is almost done, and I’ve got loads of crystal berry pie. So, are you here for a taste test? I think everything is simply scrumptious. Rainbow should absolutely love the peach and crystal berry pies I made for her. And the chocolate crystal berry pie should be a favorite for Andi. Nissy will just adore the crystal berry and love honey muffins. Hello, you’re new. You must be Bellatrix, nice to meet you. Will you be my friend? Anyway, Rarity is almost done setting up the face painting stall. And Fluttershy is playing with the ewes over that way. I’m not sure what Applejack is doing. Why does Twilight look like she’s shellshocked?”

“Hello Pinkie,” several in the group called out during the first break in words.

“Have you seen Sirius?” Rainbow asked.

“I can see why Sirius would like her,” Bella commented, watching the pronking pink pony.

“Oh, he’s down by the shield, setting up traps,” Pinkie said. “And I really really like Sirius. I’m glad he likes me too.”

“How much sugar have you had?” Bella asked.

“Only about half my daily allowance,” Pinkie admitted.

“Just so you know,” Nissy warned. “If you give her a pepper-up potion, I am going to have to hurt you, sister or not.”

“Pinkie,” Andi said. “I need you to take your human form for a minute.”

“Okie dokie, Loki.”

“Oh my,” said Bella.

“More bounce to the ounce,” added Remus.

“What’s going on?” Rarity asked, trotting up to greet her friends. “Has there been a change of plans?”

“Hello Rarity,” Nissy said. “No, Andi is just doing some diagnostic spells.”

“It’s a good thing I am,” Andi said. “I’ve got another positive here.”

“Positive for what?” Pinkie and Rarity chorused.

“Just a second,” Andi said. “Rarity, go human.”

“You are starting to scare me, darling,” Rarity said, taking human form. “What are you checking for? Is Pinkie sick?”

“Mmmm,” Andi hummed. “You're positive, too.”

Rainbow’s eyes went wide. “I’ve been meaning to ask you how your relationship with Greengrass was going. That would be a stupid question now.”

“What do you mean?” Rarity switched her gaze from Rainbow and looked at Andi. “What does she mean?”

“You’re pregnant,” Andi said bluntly.

. . .

“NOT AGAIN!”

After watching the display of drama, Bella asked, “Where did the fainting couch come from? Did she just wandlessly conjure it?”

“Andi,” Remus said. “You need to work on your bedside manner.”

“What’s going on over here?” Applejack asked, hastily trotting up to see why her friends seemed so stressed.

“Good,” Andi said, “You were next on my list to check up on. Turn human.”

“Ah’m not going ta like this, am Ah?” Applejack eyed Rarity’s unconscious form on the couch.

“It may be a shock at first,” Nissy said.

Applejack sighed and shifted forms.

“I’m starting to feel inadequate.” Bella muttered.

Unsurprisingly, the metal roads led to cities and smaller settlements, the perfect places to collect intelligence. He wasn’t stupid, though. He picked one that was at the end of one of the networks, a modest-sized community that was near a large forest. Obviously, it was on the edge of pony-controlled territory. If anything went wrong, he could melt into the woods and reassess his options.

His current form was too conspicuous for wandering around in the daylight. A pony-shaped silhouette was less likely to raise alarm than a figure straight out of a horror story. He would walk out of the woods into the adjacent apple orchard, playing the part of a lost traveler if anypony asked. With any luck, once he made his way into town, he would find a library or a resident scholar with a suitable personal collection.

Setting down on the forest floor, he let his misty form disperse and donned a large, hooded cloak that obscured his feature. It wouldn’t do to alert the fools to his true nature.

Not wishing to wait until nightfall to do his reconnaissance, he made his way toward where he had seen the apple trees. The vine stretched across the trees at head height was hardly a barrier for one of his magical prowess. Distracted by his plans for the future, he reached out with his magic tore the vine away without a second thought.

That had been a mistake. A lifetime of danger prompted him to revert to his spectral form as he was enveloped in a purple cloud of what had to be some sort of poison. Silently, he laughed at the ineffectual attack against him.

That's when the blue gas was released.

The new substance seemed to merge with the purple gas already in the air. It would have been a captivating sight if not for the fact that the new mixture then started binding with his own misty form.

He must have lost consciousness at that point.

The next thing he knew, he was once again solid, lying on the ground, a large blanket draped over him.

No. wait. That was his cloak.

Why was it so big?

What sort of meal would he be for the wolf made of wood that loomed over him?

Chapter 20: Rebirth Revival and Reveals

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From his precarious perch, he would describe his attempt at infiltration as completely bucked. He had no idea how a master sorcerer such as he could have come to such a state. He was, however, positive that the last ten minutes would forever haunt his nightmares, should he live that long.

That accursed wolf of branches and brambles should have been no more of a menace than a flea. After all, he had destroyed monsters that could eat that counterfeit canine for a light snack. He had cast a spell that should have reduced the fake fauna to less than a memory. The atomizing blast never materialized. Instead, three tiny red sparks had sprung from his horn and died before they reached the ground.

He could swear he could still hear the wolf's laugh. He was certain that the momentary distraction was the only reason he was still alive -- that and instinct. He had galloped away before he had even realized that he was moving. Although small, his current frame had been incredibly swift. The hot, fetid breath that had rudely raised his dock had informed him that his pursuer was even faster.

Just when he had felt the tip of a tongue on his tail, the air had been filled by the unmistakable twangs of released bowstrings, followed by the sounds of solid thunks on wood. A sharp pain in his flank had given him a good indication as to what the sound had been. The next issue was trying to survive whatever poison was now coursing through his system.

Somehow, he could no longer feel the ground under his hind hooves. Still galloping furiously, he had risked a glance backward. His hindquarters had somehow broken free from the chains of gravity, probably aided by the dart that had protruded from his flank. More impressive, however, had been the howls of the wolf as it became the first member of its species to fly.

As he had continued to flee, he had heard crashes from the canopies of the trees above. More twangs had filled the air, followed by the familiar thunks and howls of pain and frustration. He had not risked another look back. Still, that had not been enough to save him when he had suddenly pitched forward. The innocent-looking patch of snow had concealed a thin black webbing that had covered a pit filled with some unctuous liquid. His momentum had been enough to drag his floating hindquarters into the pit, and for a moment, he had thought that he would drown.

To his relief, the pit had vomited him back onto solid ground and neutralized whatever had been in the dart. Now, however, he had been hopelessly ensnared in the mesh. Then, massive jaws had appeared from nowhere and snatched him up without any warning. There had been only one course of action left. Even now, his screams still echoed.

The empire's boundary was clearly demarked by the layer of snow that accumulated at the base of the shield dome. From where she fluttered just under the top of the magical construct, the cyan pegasus had and unobstructed view of the entire perimeter. Swiftly scanning, she spotted her quarry skulking out of view of the city proper. Rolling onto her back, she dove toward her target.

“There you are.”

Sirius Black paused his casting to look up. His blue wife was hovering just out of arm's reach. “Rainbow.” He grinned at her. “Just a moment. Let me tie this off.” He turned back to his last trap to add the final touches as his wife landed next to him.

“Twilight and Pinkie need to talk to you,” Rainbow said, watching him wave his wand.

“Okay,” Sirius acknowledged. “Are you all right? You look distracted.

“I’m good,” Rainbow said, shuffling a forehoof in the grass.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Sirius observed.

“I’m just . . .” Rainbow looked down to watch her hoof playing with the grass. “It’s nothing.”

Sirius crouched down so he could look her in the eye. “I would be a terrible husband if I couldn’t tell something was wrong.”

“I . . .” Rainbow returned his gaze, then she huffed, sitting on the ground in human form. “I told you I was fine.” Anger laced her voice as she folded her arms in front of herself.”

“That’s my tough little girl,” Sirius said, sitting down next to her.

Rainbow gave him a dirty look. “I’m a full-grown mare,” she snapped.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Sirius sensed that he had to tread carefully. “I should have said, ‘That’s my tough sexy wife’.”

Rainbow huffed again.

“You’re awesome, don’t you know.”

“And don’t you forget it.” A small smile crept up on Rainbow’s lips.

Sirius reached out and pulled Rainbow onto his lap. “Did Pinkie and Twilight do something to make you mad?”

“No.” Rainbow squirmed a bit before finding a comfortable spot.

“Then what has you so upset?”

Sirius could feel the woman in his lap deflate as she answered. “I told you, I’m fine.” There was no anger in her voice this time; instead, there was regret.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?’ Sirius prodded.

“Because it’s nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not,” Sirius said.

“I just want to be . . .” Rainbow started. “Never mind . . . It’s nothing.”

“Rainbow,” Sirius pleaded.

“We need to go talk with the rest of our herd,” Rainbow said suddenly, starting to lever herself out of Sirius’s lap.

“No.” Sirius firmly pulled her back. “They can wait.”

“But.”

“No buts. If you won’t tell me what’s bothering you, the least we can do is spend some private time together.”

“But,” Rainbow repeated, turning to look at her husband. “It’s really nothmmmmmmmph.” Whatever she was going to say was cut off as Sirius roughly kissed her. A minute later she said. “That’s not fair.”

“You’re being stubborn.” Sirius accused.

“I am not.”

Instead of rebutting, Sirius kissed her again.

“That is so totally not fair,” Rainbow repeated.

“I have ways of making you feel better, even if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Such as?” Rainbow gave him a challenging look.

“Such as this.”

“Oooo! Oooo! Fingers! Fingers!”

“And this.”

“Oooo! Oooo! Ahhhhhh!”

“And this.”

“Aaaaaaaaa! “

“Or perhaps this.”

“Mmmmmmmm!” Rainbow clasped her smaller hands on top of Sirius’ larger one, but that was all of the resistance she offered as she otherwise melted.

In the modest Canterlot townhouse, a pair of bibliophiles were taking full advantage of the access that their famous daughter had granted. Twilight Sparkle had broached a heretofore inaccessible trove of literature, and her parents had been swift to request offerings from the alien world.

On the couch, Twilight Velvet snuggled against her husband as she sampled a book from the crateful of bodice-rippers imported from the land of humans. While the elder may not have the same affinity for technical books as her daughter, there was no doubt that the younger Twilight had come by her love of reading honestly. The elder's husband, Night Light reflected their passion as he buried his muzzle in a human book on astronomy.

Their text-fed bliss was interrupted when an owl landed on the back of the couch and hooted softly.

“Hello Owlowicious.” Twilight Velvet said, levitating her book onto the coffee table. “Twilight sent me another letter; I see.”

“Who.” Owlowicious nodded.

“She only seems to do that when she has big news,” Twilight Velvet continued.

“Who.” Owlowicious nodded sadly.

“I suppose that’s normal for all foals,” Twilight Velvet added.

“Who. Who,” Owlowicious said sympathetically.

“You know, you haven’t exactly had a good track record with the mail you’ve delivered,” Twilight Velvet said accusingly.

The sound of a hoot being cut off midway through proved to be hilarious.

“So, is this news going to make me happy?” Twilight Velvet asked.

Owlowicious locked eyes with the unicorn mare.

Twilight Velvet stared back.

Owlowicious defied biological limitations and started to sweat.

Twilight Velvet’s eyes narrowed.

Owlowicious flew to the other side of the couch, landing on the arm and putting the stallion between himself and the mare. With another soft hoot, he presented the letter to the other male in the room.

“Coward,” Night Light quipped, looking up from his own book.

“Who!” Owlowicious said angrily.

“You are going to have to have a talk with your daughter,” Twilight Velvet said. “If she is going to keep sending bad news with her owl, she needs to send good news every now and again to offset it.”

“Mmm. Hmm,” Night Light said, studying the letter.

“Should I brace myself for the shock?” Twilight Velvet asked.

“Well.” Night Light folded the letter and levitated it to the coffee table.

A pregnant pause passed before the mare demanded, "What?"

“Remember the other day when you were commenting on one of the human novels you’ve been reading?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific. I’ve been doing a lot of commenting.” Twilight Velvet sighed. “Is she having problems with the humans’ quirk of one mare for each stallion.”

“No, I was referring to when you were telling me that the heroine discovered that she was expecting during their winter festival.”

”Yes?”

“You were wondering if that was a complete fluke.”

“Yes.”

“You were also wondering if it was something Twiley was aware of.”

“Yes.”

“Well, the answers to your questions are, no, it’s not a fluke, and no Twiley wasn’t aware of it.”

“Yes!”

“I have to say, I was expecting Shiny to beat Twiley to the buck on this one.”

“There is Clouded Hope.”

“Does she really count?”

“Yes!”

In the rustic one-room schoolhouse, Cheerilee paused her lesson when the scratching on the front door commenced. With a practiced ease, she threw open the door to confront the culprit. “Hello Fluffy,” she said kindly. “Who have you got for me today?”

“Woof,” said Fluffy’s left head as the middle one yipped and the right one gently placed a bundle on the doorstep, all the while his entire rear end swayed back and forth with an exaggerated tail wag.

“Good boy.” Cheerilee patted the central head as she noted the delivery was a colt wrapped in a strange black netting. She couldn’t see his face yet, but his coloring suggested that it was Dean Thomas.

“Woof.” Fluffy couldn’t contain his excitement as his left and right heads proceeded to give Cheerilee a tongue bath.

“Stop it Fluffy! Stop . . . Bleaaaagh! Ack ack . . . Ptuu! Ptuu! Stop it!”

Fluffy obediently stopped.

Cheerilee desperately tried cleaning her tongue with a hoof. “Thaan ew.”

“Woof,” Fluffy barked before bounding off to continue his patrol.

Cheerilee sighed before bending down. “Here, let me help you,” she said to the entangled colt. After a minute of effort, she had an unfamiliar colt staring up at her. “Hello, you’re new. What’s your name?”

The colt continued to stare up at her in shock.

“I know that your first Fluffy ride can be scary,” Cheerilee said in a soothing voice. “Can you tell me your name, dear?”

“Som . . .Nuth . . . Errr . . .” the colt said reflexively, seemingly pausing to think for each syllable, and his voice was a surprising tenor.

“Somnuther?” Cheerilee tilted her head. “What an interesting name.”

“Cute!” Magah decried from the rear of the classroom. She had given up on chasing after Fluffy every time he grabbed a Crusader and had taken to sitting in the back in her human form.

“It is cute.” Cheerilee agreed. “Now Somnuther, if you wouldn’t mind taking a seat next to . . . mmm . . . Crisp Lick; we’ll finish our lesson. Afterward, we can find out where you came from and where you belong.”

The colt gaped at her.

Sighing, Cheerilee nudged the colt in the direction she wanted him to go. “Don’t worry, dear. Fluffy won’t hurt you, I know he can be a shock, but you are among friends.”

Woodenly, Somnuther stumbled over to the indicated desk and slowly climbed onto the seat as every foal in the room watched his progress.

“Yeah,” Crisp Lick said when her new neighbor was finally seated, “that was my reaction, too, when Fluffy decided I needed to be in school.”

The colt turned to look at her, trembling slightly as he did so. He could not help but notice how every filly eyed him hungrily.

“Just wait until you meet Diamond Tiara’s pet,” added Peppermint Twist. “He puts Fluffy to shame.”

“Wait . . . What?” asked Crisp Lick

Granny Smith opened her front door to find a friend of the family waiting patiently. “Howdy,” she said.

“Hello Granny,” said Filthy Rich. “How are you doing?”

“Ah’m jus’ fine,” said the elderly mare. “Won’t you come in? I’m sure Ah could rustle y'all a cup of cocoa or some hot cider if y'all have a mind fer it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t stay long,” said Filthy Rich. “I was hoping I could buy, say five of your larger hogs.”

“Now why would you be needing five hogs?”

“Er, Diamond’s pet made a gesture earlier,” Filthy Rich said. “He reared up, opened his mouth wide and pointed at his open mouth with the tip of his tail. I really don’t want to test the limits of his patience.”

“Tell ya what,” Granny said. “Ah’ll throw in the blindfolds fer free.”

“Hello?”

Rainbow opened her eyes, her bliss interrupted by the unexpected voice. “Er, hello.” All around Sirius and her was a crowd of crystal ponies. Their drooping manes and tails were strangely at odds with the expressions on their faces.

“What?” Sirius opened his own eyes. “Shoo, we don’t need an audience.”

“Hush,” Rainbow said, bouncing playfully in his lap. “You and your human taboos.”

“Well, yeah.” Sirius blushed.

“Sorry,” said a pale-yellow mare. “We couldn’t help it.”

“We felt . . . something,” ventured a red stallion.

“It called to us,” added another mare.

“Really?” Rainbow asked, bouncing a bit more.

“Rainbow,” Sirius whined.

“Yes,” said the first mare. “I almost remember . . .”

“Me too,” said another mare.

“It was important,” said another stallion.

“What was it?” queried a third.

“Does this help any?” Rainbow did a few more bounces.

“Rainbow, stop that!” Sirius yelped.

“Yes!” the first mare’s head snapped up, a halo of light rose from her hooves, passing over her entire body. In an instant Sirius and Rainbow got their first look at a healthy crystal pony. “I remember!”

“I do, too,” said the mare next to her as she repeated the feat with her own halo.

“The love!” declared a stallion as he rejuvenated himself.

“Love!” cried another mare, reinvigorated.

“Love protects us,” asserted yet another stallion, following the trend.

“It has always protected us,” proclaimed a mare.

“I remember!” several in the crowd joined in as halos engulfed the remainder of those present.

Rainbow started bouncing for joy.

Sirius made a strangled groan at his wife’s antics.

“The heart!” A mare suddenly gasped and a mutter ran through the crowd.

“I remember!”

“The heart!”

“The Crystal Heart!”

“It helps protect us!”

“The palace!”

“It’s in the palace!”

“We need to go to the palace!”

“Hurry!”

“The palace!”

The resulting stampede vanished with a cloud of dust toward the aforementioned edifice.

“Ponies are weird.” Sirius grunted.

“Hush.” Rainbow leaned back, placing her hand on the back of Sirius’s head and pulling him in for a kiss. “Where were we?”

Sirius pulled back. "On the splash page of the local newspaper."

"Let's give them something worth printing." Rainbow pulled him back in.

The nurse sat behind the desk and looked at the newest ponies to enter the waiting room of Ponyville General. “Yes?” she said expectantly. “How may I help you?”

“I’m pink,” said Private Patsy.

The nurse cocked her head. "Actually, I'd say you're fuchsia."

“I wasn’t this morning,” Private Patsy grumbled.

“Oooookay,” acknowledged the nurse.

Private Fauna spoke up at that point. “The Crusaders set up some traps at the edge of the forest.”

“There was this pit filled with Celestia knows what,” added Sergeant Shortbread.

“Say no more.” The nurse pulled out a clipboard and nosed it toward Private Patsy. “I’ll just let the doctor know you are here.”

“I still say the coloring looks good on you,” Private Fading Violet opined.

Her head close to the ground, Spoiled Rich opened the door to the study and peered down the hallway. A wave of relief washed through her body when she saw her husband trotting toward her, a relief that was tempered by the grim cast on Filthy Rich’s face.

“What was that?” Spoiled squeaked.

“Pigs screaming,” Filthy said shortly.

“Why were . . . No don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

“Wise choice,” Filthy said.

The first-year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws had quickly become accustomed to many of the changes that had come with their second term. To be fair, some were exceedingly pleasant, one of which was the fact that there were now two Snapes in the castle. Granted, if asked earlier, they would have blanched at the prospect. However, the second Snape was not only a delightful and effective teacher; she also had a tempering effect on the original, making his classes much more bearable. It had become a toss-up on which would be the instructor of the day. However, a huge cauldron taking the place of the teacher’s desk was always a good sign that the day’s lecturer would be Zecora. So, there they were, gathered around the large work of iron, taking notes.

“Miss Abbott, I beseech, could you say? Coriander seeds work in what way?”

The girl was prompt with her answer. “They are known for their mild soothing properties,” she said. “They are mainly used to boost the potency of other ingredients, drastically increasing the efficacy of many healing potions.”

“Very good, Miss Abbott and well said; I must applaud. Mr. Corner, how must they be prepared to keep the potion unflawed?”

“There are two prevalent methods, depending on the potion,” the Ravenclaw said, “the more common being a mortar and pestle, preferably made of marble. This is for the milder potions. The more powerful ones require the tedious task of using a sharp silver knife to slice each individual seed in half -- one stroke only or the seed becomes worthless.”

“That is the full explanation from your book, though there is one more method that has worked with proof. Add something you would otherwise overlook, a tap dancing drunk minotaur with the seeds under hoof.”

There was a soft rustle of feathers as an owl landed on Zecora’s shoulder. With a curious glance at the bird, she said. “My friend on you this question must weigh. Why do you disturb this class today?”

Owlowicious hooted and offered a letter.

“Who knew? Thank you.”

The children in the class watched as their professor read the paper, eyes getting wider the entire time. Finally, when the tension couldn’t grow anymore, the adult in the room said, “Oh my.”

The students all watched expectantly as the woman reread the letter.

“Wait,” Susan Bones said. “That’s it?”

“Where’s the rest of the rhyme?” asked Padma.

“We were expecting a rhyme,” Terry Boot affirmed.

“This caught me off guard, by and by,” Zecora said.

“Nah,” Sue Li said. “That’s not up to your normal standards.”

“It was kinda weak,” said Megan Jones.

“I think you just lost your rhythm,” noted Zacharias Smith. “Bad timing and all that.”

“Don’t worry,” Hannah Abbott added. “Everyone is entitled to a miscast every now and then.”

“I may be getting arthritic, but everybody is a critic.”

“Better,” said Lisa Turpin. “But I think you’re stretching it a bit. I mean, why would you be arthritic?”

“Yeah, that letter must have been really wicked,” Michael Corner added. “It’s throwing you off your game.”

Remus was stunned when he was nearly mobbed by a hoard of crystal ponies entering the courtyard. It took him a few seconds to note that the equines seemed livelier and more well . . . sparkling than any he had seen before. He could honestly say it was a unique experience as far as he was concerned.

“Where is it?” cried out a pony from the crowd.

“Where is what?” Remus asked warily.

“The heart, the crystal heart,” several voices answered.

“Oh.” Remus brightened at the request. “It’s upstairs, I was going to bring it down after Sirius showed up and talked to his wives.”

“Who’s Sirius?”

“Bring it now!”

“I think he’s the stallion with the rainbow-haired mare.”

“He should be along shortly.”

“About twenty minutes if I were to guess.”

“That’s a good round number.”

“Go get it now; I can’t wait.”

“Woah! Woah!” Remus raised his hands to get a word in. “The heart was made for the festival. We’re not quite ready to start yet.”

“Who cares about the festival? We need the heart!” insisted a crystal mare.

“We need to share the love!” shouted a stallion.

“You know what?” Remus said. “I’m going to forget you said that. I’ll go get the heart. Give me a half hour.”

“What’s with the crowd?” Sirius asked as he and Rainbow trotted up to their friends.

“They’re waiting fer Remus to bring down the crystal heart,” Applejack said, turning from the scene to look at the two approaching ponies. “Why are ya’ll glowing?”

“I’m not glowing,” Sirius snorted.

“Darling,” Rarity said. “I know you went overboard with the whole black thing, but you are glowing right now.”

“I’m not glowing. All right?”

“If you say so,” Twilight said, standing up in her human form. “It doesn’t matter, Pinkie and I have something important we need to tell you.”

“You’re starting to scare me,” Sirius said, taking his own human form, as did Rainbow at his side.

Twilight blinked when she saw the results. “Why are your clothes covered in muddy hoofprints?”

Rainbow looked down at what she and Sirius were wearing. “They got trampled,” she said nonchalantly.

“They weren’t on you at the time?” Andi asked worriedly, looking for injuries.

“No. Not exactly.” Sirius shrugged.

“Oh,” Pinkie smiled, also in human form. “That’s why you are glowing.”

“I’m not glowing.” Sirius sighed.

“Yes, you are,” Rainbow countered.

“You are, too.” Bella smirked. “You’ve got no room to talk.”

“I’m not glowing,” Rainbow said.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Nissy said.

“We are getting off topic here,” Twilight interrupted. “Anypony with a nose already knows why they are glowing.”

“Oh, do tell,” Bella prodded.

“Why tell when you can show?” Pinkie suggested. “I’m sure if you ask, Nissy would be willing to share Remus.”

“Not happening.” Nissy shook her head.

“We are off topic.” Twilight growled, getting frustrated.

“Sorry, darling,” Rarity said, “Go ahead; it’s your show.”

“Thank you.” Twilight huffed before turning toward her husband. “Sirius, I’ve got some news for you.”

“I gathered as much.” Sirius smirked.

“Did you guess that we were pregnant too?” Pinkie asked.

Sirius stared at Pinkie.

“Well did you guess.” Pinkie hopped in place.

Sirius stared at Pinkie.

“Well, did you? Huh? Huh?”

“When you said, 'we’re pregnant' did you mean the normal 'we’re pregnant' normally applied to a couple or did you mean you and Twilight are both pregnant??” Sirius asked with a dry throat.

“Oh, she meant both of us are pregnant,” Twilight said shyly, looking at her feet.

“Oh . . . all right then.”

. . .

The glow faded from Rarity’s horn as she huffed. “And everypony tells me that hauling around a fainting couch is a waste of space,” she complained.

“That went about as well as I was expecting,” Andi noted.

“Should we be expecting an encore?” Twilight asked, turning toward Rainbow.

“Hopefully.” Rainbow shuffled a foot.

“Don’t worry.” Andi reassured her. “I can give you a potion to help with that.”

The excitement was heavy in the air when Remus reappeared levitating a pedestal which, in turn, had a slowly rotating crystal heart levitating above it. There was a cheer from the gathered crystal ponies as he made his way toward the gazebo in the plaza.

“It’s really it!” a pony cried out.

“I remember!”

“We’re saved!”

“I remember!”

“Wait, It’s not quite right. It has more facets than I remember.”

“Who cares? It’s the heart!”

The crowd was working itself into a frenzy.

“Maybe it grew more facets.”

“How does a crystal grow more facets?”

“How does a crystal float? Magic, you dope!”

“Fair enough.”

“I remember!”

“What have you there?” Princess Cadance came up to Remus. She eyed the gathered ponies with a small smile on her lips.

“The centerpiece for the festival,” Remus said. "It seems to have gotten them excited."

“Wonderful.” Princess Cadance beamed.

“Would you like the honor of placing it?” Remus gestured.

“Thank you, my good human,” Cadance said, taking the piece in her own magic. “I accept the honor.”

Remus bowed and took several steps back.

“My dear ponies.” Cadance said, turning her attention to the now-silent crowd. “I present to you this year’s centerpiece, the Crystal Heart!”

A cheer went up as she levitated the pedestal into the place of honor. Before the base touched the ground, a crystal stalagmite popped from the ground, splitting the pedestal apart like the petals of a flower. Likewise, a stalactite protruded from the ceiling. Ancient magics on which the entire city was built weighed the offering, judged the replacement, and found it acceptable. It was not the material that mattered, nor the construction. Even the original would not have worked were it not for the intent. The love of the ponies screamed for a focus. The city itself practically hummed as the piece fell into place.

"The heart!" several voices called as one. Then, one by one, ponies started to kneel. Where they bent, prostrated, the ground beneath them started to glow. What the inhabitants had forgotten the city itself had not. The glow went from street to street as more and more ponies bowed. Each lent a piece of their power, and the result was something greater than the sum of its parts.

Power flowed into the floating, heart-shaped crystal, which began spinning rapidly. Then, there was a mighty pulse of magic. When it touched ponies, they became so crystalline that they sparkled. The humans among them were not immune to the effect.

The pulse didn’t stop there. Like a gigantic hoof, pushing back the clouds, it ushered in the light of the sun, and for an encore, beams of colored light burst from the highest spire of the palace. They raced toward the sky only to explode well above the city. The remaining black clouds surrounding the city transformed into rainbow rings. Once again, light ruled the day.

“What was that?” A startled Twilight looked skyward in awe.

“Whatever it was, it was impressive,” Andi said.

“Aaaaaaaaah!” Bella screamed, clutching her forearm in agony. A black goo dripped from between her fingers.”

“Never mind; hold that thought.” Andi rushed toward her sister, with her wand drawn.

“This was a day for doozies.” Pinkie turned to watch the witch tend to her sister.

“That it was,” Applejack agreed, also watching.

It was no surprise that the new spectacle went unnoticed. Like the ponies, no organs were visible through the crystal forms of the humans. But there was something. One might have mistaken it for a mote of light. It was there, inside the woman furthest along. Barely discernable. It could have been mistaken for a trick of the light.

It was a pulse . . .

. . . a steady and rhythmic pulse . . .

. . . a heartbeat.

Chapter 21: ER, Examinations, and Education

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Dr. Horse had long ago learned how deceptive the calm was in this pastoral town. Tilted Tuesdays were the norm, as were the not so uncommon phenomena that would leave an outsider questioning their sanity. Rather than fight the madness, the doctor had chosen to document it, leading many in academia questioning whether his published works should earn him a padded room instead of a padded resume.

His first few attempts at publishing had been returned, bleeding with rudely-worded skepticism. It was only after he had presented his findings on poison joke in pony that he managed to have his work included in the "Manehattan Journal of Medicine". The select committee had been assured that the negatives from the presentation were in a secure location, and the more interesting scenes would be in every major newspaper should anything untoward happen to the good doctor.

Not unexpectedly, the floodgates had opened after his breakthrough. Anxious to reap the prestige without facing the danger, directors of hospitals far and wide shanghaied residents to independently confirm his findings. The sharp uptick in pemmaphobia cases among that group had assured that his latest work on the consumption of possessed cake would be featured in the keynote address of the upcoming conference.

Despite the excitement, the town normally lived up to its appearance. The calm only served to accentuate the days when reality decided to go on holiday, or at least for a little kip down at Berry Punch's bar. It was therefore hardly a test of his hard-earned experience when he saw the fuchsia guard stallion in the examination room, Dr. Horse realized this was shaping up to be one of those days.

Glancing at the chart, the doctor said, "Private Patsy, your chart indicates that you are suffering from a slight discoloration."

"Slight? Slight! I'm pink! No self-respecting stallion is pink!"

Dr. Horse replied, "To be honest, I'd have to say your coat is fuchsia."

"What does that matter? Fix it!"

"The initial tests do not show anything out of the ordinary. We'll have to get the lab results before I can do anything."

"C'mon, doc. I can't go around town like this."

Dr. Horse sighed. He then scribbled a note and levitated it to the patient.

Squinting, Private Patsy tried to decipher the hornwriting. "What is this? Some sort of prescription?"

"No. It's the address to the local spa. I'm sure Lotus and Aloe will be able to give you a proper dye job while we try to get to the bottom of this."

The private grumbled under his breath as he left the room.

Once the stallion was out of earshot, Dr. Horse muttered to himself. "Topic for new paper. Magical malady causes slight coat discoloration. Wait. Scratch 'slight'."

Following procedure, the doctor filed away the chart before strolling into the emergency room. "Good morning, Nurse Redheart. It looks like we're in for a quiet Tuesday."

The words had not long left his lips when the double doors to the lobby crashed open, admitting two worried-looking mares. One was a stranger, but the other was the school teacher. With a start, the doctor did a double-take upon seeing the colt slung across her back. At first glance, he could have sworn that Private Patsy had somehow been shrunk within the few minutes since he sulked off.

Gasping, Cheerilee said, "Colt . . . Magic."

With a calm hard-earned from his chosen line of work, Dr. Horse levitated the unconscious colt onto a gurney. He commanded absently, "Nurse Snowheart, you're with me." Wasting no time, he cast diagnostic spells as the pair hurried into one of the examination rooms, pushing the gurney in front of them. A visiting physician would have been remiss in not questioning the battery of unsanctioned scans being performed.

Nurse Redheart spoke up to reassure the two waiting mares. "The colt is in good hooves." With practiced ease, she nosed a form from a tray on the desk before picking up a quill in her teeth. Speaking around the writing implement, she said, "Let's start with the basics. What is the colt's name?"

Cheerilee replied, "Somnuther."

"Parents?"

"I don't know. Fluffy brought him in during class."

"I see." After filling in a few lines, Redheart turned to the stranger and said, "I don't believe we've met."

The mare replied, "I'm Pleasant Thoughts. I'm now the town's psychologist."

Redheart entered the name on the form. "So, what happened?"

Cheerilee replied, "It felt like some unicorn surged; we all saw flashes of color from the windows. Everypony rushed to the windows to watch, and then Somnuther started convulsing until he collapsed."

Redheart scratched a few more lines and then turned towards the psychologist. "And what did you see?"

"I just saw Cheerilee running with the colt. I only tagged along to make sure they made it here safely."

A haggard-looking Dr. Horse emerged from the examination room, prompting Cheerilee to ask, "How is he, doctor?"

"Physically, he's fine. Magically, he's got more conflicting processes going on in him than an end of term party at magic university." Dr. Horse sighed. "I need to bring in an expert from Canterlot. Where's that overgrown lizard of Twilight's? The sooner we can get the right pony, the better."

Cheerilee replied with a note of reproach, "Spike is a dragon, and he's off at the Crusaders' new school. We can try using his classmate's owl, though. I can gallop over to Bon Bon's."

Dr, Horse snorted. "An owl? It'd take hours to fly to Canterlot."

Smirking, Cheerilee replied, "The owl is not what she seems."

The doctor shrugged and scribbled out a note.

Cheerilee had returned to the emergency room just in time to witness a snowy owl appearing from an orthogonal dimension. The mare asked, "Did you get him, Hedwig?"

“Bark!” The owl bobbed her head as if to ask, “Did you really expect me to fail such a simple task?”

"Doctor, I'll need your help with this." Cheerilee hoofed over several treats that Bon Bon had given her to reward the owl.

Eyeing the pouch suspiciously, the doctor asked, "It's not related to George, is it?"

Cheerilee replied, "Just touch your horn to the pouch and say, 'ex dimittere'."

Reluctantly, Dr. Horse complied, only to jump back as the sound of retching filled the room.

Pleasant Thoughts stepped back as well when she saw the irate unicorn who tumbled from the pouch. She groaned. "Don't tell me it's him.” She sighed to express her displeasure.

Shaking the shock off his face, the unicorn focused on her. He growled, "Pleasant Thoughts. I should have known." Turning, he locked his gaze on the doctor. "And you, Horse. What is this? I thought I'd seen the last of your sophomoric pranks after you graduated."

Dr. Horse replied, "Professor Vague Theory, we need your expertise with a colt who's being subjected to more magical processes than I can count."

"Show me."

Moments later, the stallions returned to the waiting room. Glaring at the mares, Vague Theory said, "Tell me everything."

After Cheerilee finished her recap, the professor blurted, "That's preposterous! Let me speak to this truant officer."

Pleasant Thoughts replied, "He's not going to talk to you."

Glaring, Vague Theory said, "I will make him talk."

Cheerilee shrugged before going to the door. She put a forehoof to her mouth and shrilly whistled. In a thrice, Fluffy responded to the call.

Vague Theory said, "Very funny. Where's the truant officer?"

"You're looking at him," replied Pleasant Thoughts.

Vague Theory looked at each of the other ponies in turn, hoping for a hint of the joke being played on him. “Well then, he needs a badge or something. And haven’t I heard talk about a pony around these parts who can speak with animals?”

“Those are actually some very good ideas.” Cheerilee turned to Hedwig. “Would you mind going to get Fluttershy?”

“Bark!” The bird launched herself from the counter before disappearing mid-flap.

“An owl that can foalnap ponies on command,” Vague Theory mused. “I wouldn’t mind his help rounding up some of the less diligent students from my advanced classes.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t let Hedwig hear you calling her that.” Cheerilee said, patting Fluffy on a head as she passed by him. “I really need to head back to the school now. I’ve left my class unattended for too long as it is.”

“We’ll keep you informed.” Dr Horse assured her. “No, Fluffy! Stay!” was added a few seconds later.

“I have to ask,” Vague Theory said. “Do you have a problem with truancy? Er, let me rephrase that. Did you have a problem with truancy?”

“Not really.” Redheart replied. “It has actually increased slightly since the foals have made a game out of avoiding Fluffy.”

“It’s a little more complex than that,” Dr. Horse corrected. “There are more foals participating in the practice, but they don’t last more than an hour each.”

“I can only imagine,” Vague Theory mused. “How does he tell which foals are skipping?”

“He doesn’t.” Pleasant Thoughts cringed. “He doesn’t discriminate at all during school hours. If he sees a foal, that child is going to school whether they belong there or not.”

“I suspect that has cause some issues,” Vague Theory theorized.

“It has,” Pleasant Thoughts agreed darkly.

“Bark!”

“That was quick,” Dr. Horse said, approaching the returned owl. “Did you know your beak is on backwards?”

“Bark!” Hedwig's tail feathers fluffed with her response.

“I’m going to assume that Fluttershy was with Discord when you found her.”

“Bark!” Again, the feathers punctuated her voice.

“I’m also going to apologize for that, but it couldn’t wait.”

“Bark!” This time Hedwig sounded resigned as her tail feathers again rose and fell.

"You do realize you're talking out of your . . ."

"Bark! Bark! Bark!" Tail feathers flared with each retort.

“Exit pouch,” Dr. Horse said hesitantly, placing his horn on the pouch in question.

“I believe it was 'ex dimittere', doctor,” Nurse Redheart suggested.

“Right, right,” Dr. Horse said. “Ex dimturnna.”

“Ex dimittere.”

“Right, ex dimittere.”

“That is unsettling,” Vague Theory noted as a yellow pegasus emerged amidst some acoustic torture.

“Bark!” Hedwig demanded as soon as Fluttershy touched the floor.

“Oh my!” Fluttershy said, examining the bird. “Discord, that wasn’t very nice. Hedwig couldn’t help it that she interrupted our alone time.”

A flash of light surrounded Hedwig’s head and tail.

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said, turning and noticing the other ponies in front of the hospital for the first time. “Um . . .” she shrank in on herself at the attention. “Hello?”

“Fluttershy.” Nurse Redheart stepped forward. “Sorry to bother you, but we had a colt come in suffering from some unknown magic, and the only witness was Fluffy. Since the colt is still unconscious, we were hoping you could ask Fluffy what he knows.”

“Unconscious?” Any hint of shyness was swept from the yellow pegasus as determination and worry overwhelmed it. “Of course, I’ll help. Fluffy would you mind telling me what happened?”

Three giant heads tilted simultaneously as one of them whined.

“What happened today?” Fluttershy prompted.

The middle head let out a series of barks.

“That is interesting.” Fluttershy said. “But the doctors need to know what happened to the colt.”

“Wuf?”

“Fluffy wants to know which colt.”

“The fuchsia one,” Pleasant Thoughts offered.

“The fuchsia one,” Fluttershy obediently repeated.

“Woof!”

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said. “You need to be more specific. Doggies don’t see the world the same way ponies do. Do you know what the colt smells like?”

“Just a moment.” Redheart rushed into the examination room and returned a minute later with a few strands of tail hair.

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said before offering the evidence to the oversized canine.

Fluffy’s heads came forward for a sniff before he started barking excitedly.

“One at a time, please,” Fluttershy said. “It’s hard to understand with three voices at once.”

“Woof?” asked all the heads at once.

“Um, let’s start with the left one.”

“Woof?” asked all the heads at once.

“That one.” Fluttershy pointed at the left head.

“Woof woof woof,” commented the left head.

“Arf,” added the central.

“Woof ruff,” agreed the right.

“Really?” asked Fluttershy.

“Woof woof,” stated the left head

“That’s all you saw?” Fluttershy asked.

“Woof!” said the right head. “Woof grrr.”

“Really? Up in a tree?”

“Woof,” said the central head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help you get it down right now. I need to stay here and see if I can help with the colt you found. I’m sure if you find Big Mac, he could buck it out of the tree for you.”

Fluffy barked and bounded away, displaying way too much energy.

“Well?” Dr. Horse asked watching the dog head back toward the Apple farm.

“Fluffy says he didn’t see much. He heard a timberwolf. When he went to investigate, he found the colt on the ground and the timberwolf up a tree,” Fluttershy said. “He’s been trying to get the wolf out of the tree ever since he dropped the colt off at the school.”

Dr, Horse sighed, “So all we really know is that the colt . . .”

“Somnuther,” Pleasant Thoughts interjected.

“All we really know is that Somnuther ran afoul of the Crusaders' traps near the Everfree forest.”

“How do we know that? The dog didn’t tell us where he found him,” Pleasant Thoughts asked.

“He’s the exact same color as a patient I had earlier, who also had an encounter with those traps,” Dr. Horse said. “Fuchsia colts aren’t exactly a bit a dozen. So, we are going to have to get a list of whatever those foals managed.”

“So, the owl?” asked Pleasant Thoughts.

“The owl.” Dr. Horse nodded.

“Oops,” Vague Theory said trotting up, Dr. Horse hadn’t even noticed he had wandered off during the interrogation of the cerberus. “That’s going to take a little more time. I just sent her to collect the members of my class that is due to begin in ten minutes. Your patient is unique, and I figured it wasn’t an opportunity to be squandered.”

“You sent Hedwig to foalnap your students?” Dr. Horse asked.

“Yes; there are only five of them. It being an advanced class.” Vague Theory nodded. “Besides, she seems proficient at it.”

“Okay,” said Pleasant Thoughts. “There doesn’t seem to be the potential for abuse there.”

“Perhaps we should check in on Somnuther,” Fluttershy said, “if that’s all right with you. It might be a good idea.”

“Snowheart is keeping an eye on him,” Dr. Horse assured the mare, “but we can take this inside if you'd like.”

“Yes please,” Fluttershy said, already heading for the doors.

“Hold on a minute,” Pleasant Thoughts said. “I may be out of line here, and this may be a bit rude, but is nopony going to address the fact that Fluttershy here looks like she’s living crystal?”

“She was in the company of Discord before arriving,” Dr. Horse said. “You have to ignore these things until he gets bored with them.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything about it,” Vague Theory admitted. “After nopony was fazed by the giant, three-headed dog and an owl with, ahem, beak problems, a crystal pony just doesn’t seem to be worth the effort to get excited over.”

“Besides, I think she looks absolutely ravishing,” Redheart added.

“Oh, this wasn’t Discord’s doing,” Fluttershy said over her shoulder. “Everypony in the Crystal Empire looks like this right now. Alice and I were examining the changes to Discord when Hedwig showed up.”

“You were examining Discord?” Redheart prompted.

“Yes, although he looks like he’s made of crystals he’s soft in all the right places and hard as diamond where he needs to be . . . His muscles, I was talking about his muscles being firm and hard like they’re supposed to be, as well as his horn . . . the one on the top of his head . . . He has two of them, you know.” It was fascinating how well red stood out on yellow crystal.

“Okay,” said Dr. Horse. “I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you string together at one time.”

“I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Fluttershy said softly.

“Actually, I’d say you don’t want us getting the right idea,” Vague Theory said.

More red added itself to the yellow crystal pony as she eeped, threw herself to the ground, and covered her eyes with her mane.

“So, was Alice soft in all the right places as well?” Redheart asked with a smirk.

“Yes.” The whisper drifted out from behind the pink mane. “I mean, we really should go check on the poor colt.”

Barbie looked around in shock. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. When she and Raspberry had joined Oscar for this class, the possibility had never crossed her mind. Even if this was supposed to be easier, there was something to be said for the pony way of doing it.

Her herdmates each came forward and gave her a hand.

“Don’t panic! Don’t panic!” the Ministry instructor said, rushing up and handing Barbie her leg. “This sort of thing happens all of the time, for beginners.”

Barbie blinked, looked down and gingerly took possession of the proffered parts.

“I’ve seen worse splinching,” the instructor assured her. “Just keep them in place where they belong, and I’ll reattach them.”

Barbie whimpered.

“You’ll be wanting your eyelashes back as well, I’d wager.”

Oscar, Raspberry and the rest of the class were laughing so hard that several fell down clutching their sides.

“At least I took my clothes with me,” Barbie snarled at Raspberry.

“They want to know what traps we have set up?” Abigail asked, reading over Apple Bloom’s shoulder.

“That can’t be good,” Ginny commented.

“I guess we aren’t going to make that movie after all,” Dean said smugly. “No biggie, another is starting not too long after.”

“You are still banned from picking movies,” Scootaloo reminded him.

Big Mac had just put down a bucket when the sensation started. He looked down and noted that his hooves were leaving long trails in the snow. He raised his head and blinked as he confirmed that he was moving backwards, despite standing still. Looking over his shoulder he saw that Fluffy’s right head had a firm grasp on his tail. He looked forward again and blinked a second time.

“I implore you to stop; we need to talk, Fizzlepop.”

Even if she hadn’t recognized the voice, Berrytwist would have been positive with whom she was about to have a conversation. “Zecora? How may I help you?”

“To be perfectly blunt, I need to make something clear. Tell me, are you aware humans are fertile all year?”

“Yes, that’s why Marcy made me drink a potion. I’m not ready to get pregnant yet.”

Zecora stared at her fellow Equestrian.

“You didn’t know? Did you?”

Zecora threw up her arms and continued on her way to the medical wing.

“Good luck with that,” Berrytwist called after her. As soon as the other woman had left her sight, she muttered, “I probably should have told her about that earlier.”

The examination room looked like it was being decorated by a blackboard manufacturer. The colt had awakened and was watching the professor and his five students fervently making a dent in their supply of chalk. They had taken to ignoring him after he told them about his experience with the traps. It hadn’t been long before there were new and unfamiliar formulas gracing the vertical surfaces, so he turned a questioning gaze toward the pony who had introduced himself as the attending physician.

“Don’t ask me.” Dr. Horse shrugged. “I don’t understand half of it. I did not take progressive salient thaumatology when I was back in school.”

“PST theory is beyond me too,” Pleasant Thoughts added when the colt turned to look at her.

“Can I get a tome on the subject?” Somnuther asked.

“There might be one in the library, but our librarian is out of town for the foreseeable future, and I wouldn’t know where to begin to look for it,” Dr. Horse said.

“I hope they can at least do something about your voice,” Pleasant Thought said. “You sound like a major villain trapped in the body of a foal.”

“He does not,” Nurse Redheart scolded. “He sounds just fine.”

“Don’t tell me everypony isn’t going to do a double-take when they hear that voice coming from that small frame,” Pleasant Thoughts countered.

“He isn’t that bad.” Dr. Horse chuckled. “Watch. Somnuther would you mind laughing evilly for me?”

“MWAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Redheart stared at the innocent-looking fuchsia colt. “You are entirely too good at that for comfort.”

“Told you,” Pleasant Thoughts replied.

“It’s all in the presentation,” Somnuther said smugly.

“I don’t care if he isn’t a student at my school.” Vague Theory had been startled out of his conversation with his students. “I’m signing him up for Ethics 101.”

“Either that or enroll him in the theater club,” said one of the students.

“Oh look; Hedwig’s back,” Dr. Horse said as the bird offered a much-needed segue.

“I got it.” Snowheart retrieved a sheet of paper from the bird. After a quick look she exclaimed. “Sweet Celestia, they used poison joke. Where did they get poison joke in the middle of winter?”

“For the love of . . .” Dr. Horse’s hoof found his face. “Well at least now we know what was in those darts.”

“Actually . . .” Snowheart continued to run her eyes over the paper. “They had the poison joke in a trap set to deliver it in a gaseous form. The darts contain a potion brewed by Sweetie Belle, and they aren’t sure what it does, but they figured it should be interesting.”

Dr. Horse’s eyes went wide as he stared forward, mouth agape.

“Doctor?” Pleasant Thoughts prompted as she noticed Fluttershy fainting out of the corner of her eye. “What is it doctor? Is it bad?”

“Just a moment.” Dr. Horse said. “I’m still trying to figure out how to verbalize my diagnosis in a way that will avoid me getting in trouble for cursing in front of a foal.”

“Why couldn’t it have just been the poison joke?” Redheart moaned.

“If it makes you feel any better, the potion Sweetie was trying to make was intended to warm you up in cold weather,” Snowheart said. “It can’t be that bad.”

Dr. Horse turned and looked at his nurse, gracing her with the expected expression.

“Yeah.” Snowheart nodded. “Forget I said that.”

Big Mac looked up in the tree and saw a timber wolf tightly clutching a branch. He blinked and looked at Fluffy. “You treed a timberwolf?” He wasn’t known for talking much but the incredulity dripped off his words.

Fluffy whined, looked up, turned a pleading gaze on Big Mac, and looked up again. There were rather few who could have performed the tasks simultaneously as Fluffy had done. Kerberos would not be impressed.

With a sigh, Big Mac went over and delivered a solid kick to the tree trunk with one hind leg.

“YIPE! Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!”

Big Mac and Fluffy watched as the timberwolf disappeared into the clouds.

After a few seconds, Fluffy turned all of his puppy eyes on Big Mac and whined.

“Nnnnope,” Big Mac told him.

Fluffy whined again, ears drooping.

“Was that the timberwolf?” Corporal Phantom asked, coming out of the Everfree Forest to stand next to Big Mac, all the while looking up into the sky.

“Eeeyup.”

“At least that saves us the trouble of getting it out of the tree,” said Private Goldbrick.

“Somepony is in for a nasty surprise when it decides to come back down,” noted Private Fading Violet.

“Eeeyup.”

“I’m glad that didn’t happen to our hydra,” stated Private Fauna.

“That would have been a nightmare.” Private Goldbrick shuddered.

“You know,” said Private Flora. “I really do not want to contemplate the fact that we don’t consider flying timberwolves to be worthy nightmare material.”

“I wonder if timberwolves have nightmares,” added Private Goldbrick.

“If they didn’t before, this would make for an excellent start,” Private Flora said.

“Enough of the chatter!” Corporal Phantom barked. "Mr. Macintosh, please stay here until my squad can neutralize the traps."

Laconically, the large stallion asked, "Traps?"

Shuddering, Private Goldbrick said, "Patsy stumbled in one that turned him fuchsia."

Fading Violet added, "It'll cost him a couple month's pay to get a proper dye job."

Private Flora said, "We've been taking up a collection."

"Don't look at me," said Private Fauna. "I've already chipped in twenty bits."

Corporal Phantom said, “I want all of the traps in the area dismantled. Get to it.”

All of the guardponies looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

“Are we getting hazard pay for this?” Private Goldbrick queried after a few seconds.

“I said, ‘Get to it’!” Corporal Phantom’s voice left no doubt as to how the squad was spending the afternoon.

“Yes ma’am!” her subordinates snapped out of reflex.

“Fading Violet, watch yourself.” Private Flora called out as the squad started hunting down the Crusader’s hoofiwork. “The Pit O’ Pink is over there.”

“Where?”

“Right over . . .” *Splash!* “. . . there.”

“Is it just me, or did she jump in on purpose?” asked Private Goldbrick.

The rest of the ponies delayed the start of their task long enough to watch the mare reemerge.

“What?” Fading Violet asked when she saw the rest of her squad staring at her. “I'm pretty in pink.”

As one, the others cried, "Fuchsia!"

Chapter 22: Taverns, Truancy and Taunts

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The law of the chalkboard jungle was an unfortunate but universal constant. Inevitably, a child or a gang of children would be bullies. Even in the most prestigious of schools, there were students who made it their lives’ mission to belittle others to make themselves feel superior. While sticks and stones may break bones, any youngster can tell you that words can hurt even more. In this jungle, however, appearances can be deceiving, and bullies sometimes choose the wrong target.

“Well, if it isn’t the hopeless quartet.” A plum-colored unicorn filly stood a few steps in front of her two friends as she confronted the younger fillies who had just made their way onto the playground.

“Fissle.” The little white unicorn wilted visibly at being accosted by the older students.

Thistle took a menacing step forward. “What are you, blank flanks doing?” she demanded. “Shouldn’t you be in the library or something? Finding your cutie marks instead of wasting your time playing?”

“Leave her alone, Thistle,” the newest member of the younger group growled.

“What are you going to do about it, wimp?” Thistle sneered and her two friends let out cruel laughs. “You think just because you dye your fur, you’re hot stuff? You’re just a dweeb like these other three.”

“We’re not dweebs,” complained Constant Flow, the cherry red unicorn filly.

“Dweebs, all dweebs,” Thistle’s two friends chorused. “You blank flanks are such dweebs.”

“Are you done yet?” the newest filly asked coldly. “My teddy bear is scarier than you.”

A scowl crossed Thistle’s muzzle as she used her magic to push the white unicorn out of her way. “What did you say?” she demanded, stomping forward to push her nose close to the upstart's. “I think you need to be taught a lesson on how things work around here.”

The yard monitor had witnessed the confrontation and was hurrying over to deescalate the confrontation.

“You think It’s all right to pick on ponies smaller than you?” the newcomer asked sweetly, not at all intimidated by the larger pony's threat of bodily harm.

“I’m going to make sure you know that big means you rule, small means you drool,” Thistle snarled, pulling back a forehoof to reinforce her words.

“Thistle!” the Yard Monitor yelled, increasing her pace and lighting her own horn to catch the leg in her own magic.

“You got lucky; we’ll finish this later,” Thistle whispered, turning her head to look at the approaching adult. “We were just talking Miss Jadepool,” she called out. Whatever else she might have been meaning to say was cut off as she abruptly felt herself being picked up. Turning back in shock, she found herself staring up into a pair of eyes into which she had just recently been staring down.

“Start drooling,” said the newcomer. “Ewww! Wrong end!”

The yard monitor skidded to a halt; a figurative wrench thrown into her thought process. “What’s going on here?” she asked reflexively.

“Nothing,” said seven children simultaneously, including a golden unicorn filly who had transformed into a furless abomination wearing a formerly white dress.

“Astoria Greengrass?” Miss Jadepool questioned cautiously.

“Yes ma’am?” came the innocent reply.

“What are you doing to Thistle Coat?”

“Err . . . petting her.” Astoria shifted the pony in her arms and proceeded to demonstrate. "Soft fur."

“Are you carnivorous?” Miss Jadepool ventured.

“Carnivwhat?”

“Do you eat meat?”

“Yes.”

Thistle started screaming. There might have been some begging for her life involved as well. There may even have been encopresis.

“Do you eat ponies?” Miss Jadepool asked cautiously.

“No.” Astoria held the struggling filly at arm’s length to avoid the flailing limbs. “That’s just gross, even thinking about it.”

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.” Miss Jadepool sighed in relief. “Would you please put Thistle down?”

Looking at Thistle, Astoria said, "You stink, and your mother dresses you funny."

Jadepool resisted the urge to facehoof. "I meant put her down on the ground."

*Whump!*

“Arrrrrrgh!” Thistle left an afterimage as she attempted to reach relativistic speed.

“'Put down' does not mean drop,” Miss Jadepool chastised.

“Sorry.”

“And did you have to aim for the yellow snow?”

“I wasn’t aiming.”

“I just stood here and watched you do it,” Miss Jadepool scolded.

“I may have aimed a little.” Astoria shuffled a foot.

“Wow!” Constant Flow interrupted the yard monitor. “How’d you do that? Can you teach me?”

“I have a ring.” Astoria took something off one of her claws before leaning down and holding it out to Constant Flow.

“You have a ring that allows you to turn into . . . whatever it is you are right now?” Miss Jadepool questioned.

“Yes ma’am.” Astoria, nodded her head. “Witch.”

“What you are right now.”

“Huh?” Astoria asked.

“What species are you right now?”

“A witch.”

“A which?” Miss Jadepool crinkled her brow. “Oh, a witch. No dear a witch is a profession, not a species.”

“Oh?”

“How’s it work?” Constant Flow asked around whatever she had in her mouth.

“You just have to concentrate on changing.” Astoria told her.

“What exactly are you?” Miss Jadepool asked firmly.

“Um . . . a human?”

“Are you telling me or asking me?” Miss Jadepool prompted.

As the two spoke, another abomination appeared, this one wearing a skirt, blouse, and trainers, each in a shade of pink that was just different enough from the others to be jarring.

“Look at me!” Constant Flow swung her arms wildly in glee. “Whoops!”

*Whump!*

“There’s a whole yard of nice clean white snow and you just had to pick the one patch of yellow snow, didn’t you?” Miss Jadepool sighed.

“Ewww!” Constant Flow complained.

“May I try duh ring now?” asked Sudden Flake, the white unicorn filly. "Fis looks fun."

“Why don’t we all turn back into ponies instead?” Miss Jadepool shot a glare at Astoria and Constant Flow. “I’ll be confiscating that ring; your mother will need to see me to get it back.”

Two men were standing in front of a video arcade in a mall, having a conversation while watching some children playing games.

“Let me see if I have this straight,” the bobby said to Dan Granger. “The reason your kids aren’t in school is because they’ve been suspended.”

“Yes.” Dan nodded glumly.

“For stockpiling explosives?”

“Yes.” Dan nodded again, looking even more downtrodden.

“Because they are afraid of werewolf attacks.”

“That’s what they claim.”

“And you believe them?”

“They did get in a fight with one not too long ago.” Dan winced.

“They got in a . . . Wait; are they the little ponies from the news?”

“Yes,” Dan sighed.

Reflexively, the bobby's thighs slammed together. “Before this conversation goes any further, I am going to have to have you stay between me and whichever one of them turns into the neon orange unicorn at all times,” the bobby said.

“That would be my daughter,” Dan noted.

“Your daughter? You didn’t teach her to . . .”

“No! No, I most certainly didn’t.”

“Where’d she pick that up, then?” The bobby winced.

“I don’t know. She reads a lot.”

“Which books? I’m going to steer my daughter away from them.”

“Anything she can get her hands on,” Dan said. “You’d have to ban your daughter from the library.”

The bobby sighed. “Back to the subject at hand. They aren’t playing hooky. I understand that, but why are you treating them to an outing if they are being punished by their school? Sends the wrong signal if you ask me.”

“I’m just getting them out of the town for the day,” Dan said. “They’ve been harassing the local hydra, and the guards don’t want it getting spooked and deciding to live somewhere else.”

The bobby stared at Dan in disbelief.

“I am painfully aware of just how many things are wrong with that statement.” Dan sighed.

“Is that normal behavior?”

“Not even remotely.”

“You said that exactly like Lyra Heartstrings did on the telly,” the bobby noted.

“The lad with glasses is hers,” Dan admitted.

“Should I worry about the mall coming down about our ears, then?”

“I wish I could honestly say no to that.”

“You are not making me feel better.”

“Don’t worry; they aren’t willfully destructive.” Dan reassured him. “We are, however, working on their concept of collateral damage.”

“So, you’re saying that letting them anywhere near heavy machinery would be the least wise choice of my life?”

“No; the least wise choice of your life would be letting Sweetie anywhere near the kitchen. Yours is a distant second.”

The bobby stared at him a second before starting to laugh.

“It’s not funny.” Dan shook his head. “It should be, but it really isn’t. Her cake is scarier than a hydra.”

The pub was average by any standard, despite its location in a college town. The furniture was average. The drinks were average. The lackluster decorations adorning the walls were average. Heck, even the customers were average. The grey pony playing a cello for the entertainment of others, well, that, not so much.

Neither were the two ponies sitting at a booth, human watching.

“I can’t believe her,” Vinyl Scratch sighed, reaching for her cider. The humans were wicked in that regard; they let the stuff ferment. What she was drinking would not be out of place in Berry’s bar. True, it wasn’t as tasty as what the Apples produced, but taste was a secondary trait here.

“I know,” Cloud Kicker said, amused. “I mean, I don’t have a wing in this race, but I was under the impression you two came along with the intentions of snagging yourselves a colt or maybe two if you were lucky.”

Vinyl nodded and took another sip of her cider.

“I mean the first thing she does is find a quiet bar near a college, then asks the owner if they just happen to have a cello. Which I might add, it is surprising that the human actually had one. But that point aside, instead of chatting up the unattached stallions, she plants herself in a corner and starts showing off her remarkable musical skills.”

Vinyl nodded and took another sip.

“She’s managed to gather quite the crowd of admirers,” Cloud Kicker said.

Vinyl nodded and took another sip.

“I said, 'of admirers',” Cloud Kicker emphatically repeated.

Vinyl looked up from her drink, Cloud Kicker couldn’t see the DJ's eyes behind her shades, but she was willing to bet they were very wide at this point.

“Sweet Celestia, I’m going to be outnumbered.” Vinyl slammed the rest of her cider. “Octavia!” With that word, she leapt from her seat.

*Whump!*

“Hmm.” Cloud Kicker looked at her own half empty mug. “This stuff has a bigger kick than I thought.”

Bellatrix Black lay on a too-short bed with her two sisters standing on either side of her. Looking up, she added "too low" to her assessment of the furniture’s description. Looking back down, she stared at her crystalline arm, her unmarked crystalline arm.

“It’s for the best,” Andi said, reading her sister’s mood.

Bella held back tears. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right.” Nissy answered, “We never understood why you followed that crazed maniac.”

“He promised to make everything better, make those beneath us know their place,” Bella growled.

“He made everything worse,” Andi snarled.

“He protected our birthrights,” Bella snarled back.

“He killed indiscriminately, enemy and ally alike,” Andi shot back.

“Would you rather they chip away at our traditions uncontested?” Bella snapped.

“Bella,” Nissy said softly, “traditions that only benefit a few at the top are not worth preserving.”

“You’re a traitor,” Bella stated.

“If standing against subjugation means I’m a traitor, then I’ll wear that badge proudly,” Nissy said, not raising her own voice.

“You’ll let everything our family built collapse into dust,” Bella snarled.

“Yes,” Nissy acknowledged.

“This is getting us nowhere.” Andi sighed, also lowering her voice to a normal speaking volume. “Let me put it into perspective. On the most basic level, purebloods believe it is their birthright to rob muggleborn and halfbloods of their own birthrights. They consider all those who will not submit to that theft to be threatening the traditions you speak of. “

“That’s not true,” Bella snapped.

“It is,” Nissy said. “What’s more, purebloods cannot survive without everyone else. Could you see my husband tilling the fields to feed his family? Could you see any of his allies doing even the most basic jobs needed for survival? Muggleborn, on the other hand, do not need purebloods.”

“We give them magic!” Bella screamed.

“We do not,” Andi snapped. “Their magic is their own. It is their birthright; they do not steal it from purebloods

“You lie! They steal their magic from purebloods!” Bella said with conviction.

“They do not,” Andi insisted.

“They do too!” Bella snapped. “Why would there be squibs otherwise?”

“First of all, inbreeding,” Andi said. “Secondly, the muggles have been tracing the families of muggleborns. They aren’t done yet, but it looks like at least half can be linked to disowned squibs just a few generations back. In all likelihood, that is probably an underestimate. The Death Eaters have been killing off their own distant relatives.”

“You lie!”

“Of course, Bella, everything I say that you don’t like is a lie.”

“They still couldn’t do magic unless we taught them how,” Bella said stubbornly.

Andi actually snorted at this. “Hording knowledge? That’s the pureblood contribution? The muggles just needed the basics, and they went wild. Did you know that they had already all but invalidated wizarding astronomy long before the statute fell? They’ve only known magic is real for a short time, yet they’ve already figured the advantages of casting certain rituals during certain times has more to do with the angle of your spot on the planet and the alignment of gravitational fields, than stars whose light take an unimaginable amount of time to reach your eyes.”

“What?” Nissy asked, “Where did you hear about that?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention to Twilight when she starts explaining something she’s read?” Andi queried.

“No, I can honestly say I’ve learned to tune her out,” Nissy admitted.

“You shouldn’t,” Andi admonished. “Take the astronomy mess for an example. We know through Arithmancy that certain spells work better at different times. We used to use the stars and seasons to calculate the best times. With the pony's concept, there are different planes of magic running through reality, sort of like how ley lines run through the planet. Well, the angles that you intersect those planes can be easily determined, which, by the way, explains why the hemisphere of the planet you occupy matters so much in those regards. There are some kinds of both shrinkage and magnification caused by the fluctuations in the gravitational field of the planet. That is why knowing where the other planets in the solar system is also important, but . . ..”

“Okay, okay.” Nissy held up a hand. “You’ve proven you have been listening to Twilight, and while this would be an interesting tangent to explore later, it is nonetheless a tangent. Let us get back to the subject at hand.”

As one, the two standing sisters turned to look at their bedridden sibling.

“They would still need to acquire wands,” Bella said weakly. “Purebloods own just about the entire range of magical animals.”

Nissy blinked and looked toward the open window of the room. “Really? Is that the best you could come up with? Open a salon here, and you’d have enough tail hairs to outfit every witch and wizard in Magical Britain by the time the day was out.”

“There weren’t exactly that many unicorns running around from what I saw.” Bella pouted.

“Perhaps not here, but in Canterlot, you can’t go five feet without tripping over one,” Andi said. “Besides, you saw what they did with that crystal heart. You can’t tell me that the tail hairs of these crystal ponies wouldn’t make a good core material.”

“They should still know their place.” Bella lifted her chin.

“They do. They are knowing it better and better every year,” Nissy said. “That’s what has the purebloods so worried.”

“You simply will not believe what I just went through,” Jadepool said as she collapsed into a cushion in the teachers' lounge.

Orange Slip looked up from the homework she was grading. “You look flustered; which foal did that to you this time?”

“Thistle Coat.”

Surprise Quiz snorted, placing his coffee mug on a nearby table. “Were she and her friends bullying the younger foals again? Has she crossed the line?”

“She came close, actually raised her hoof to the new filly, Astoria Greengrass,” Jadepool said.

“Even her mother couldn’t save her if she had connected,” Orange Slip said. “I hear that filly has connections at the palace.”

“So does Thistle’s mother.” Surprise Quiz sighed. “In case you forgot, that’s the main reason we have difficulties reining her in.”

Orange Slip shook her head. “By connections, I mean her own mother has the ear of the princesses -- easily trumps whatever officials Step Right can drum up.”

“Those are just rumors.” Jadepool snorted. “If I had a bit for every student that claimed they have had tea with the princess I could afford to retire.”

“I’m just warning you,” Orange Slip said.

“Whatever,” Jadepool replied. “If it’s true, she’s going to need that political pool, because Astoria just yanked Thistle around the room by her tail. Step Right isn’t going to like that.”

“Figuratively or literally?” Surprise Quiz asked. “I’m kind of hoping for literally.”

“Figuratively.” Orange Slip snorted. “Astoria isn’t large enough to do that literally, nor does she have enough control of her horn. I swear it is almost like she has only recently discovered she has one.”

“Wait!” Jadepool gasped. “Say that again.”

“I said Astoria sometimes acts like her horn is a new addition.”

“Ooooh.” Jadepool shook her head, “No, it couldn’t be.”

“Don’t leave us hanging,” Surprise Quiz said. “How did Astoria yank Thistle’s tail?”

“She had a ring that allowed her to change her form.” Jadepool held up the object in her hoof. “Who lets fillies have things like this?”

Orange Slip blinked. “A shapeshifting ring? That must have cost a small fortune.”

“From what I hear, she can easily afford it,” Jadepool said as Orange Slip levitated the ring out of her grasp.

“Thistle is going to learn the hard way to be careful whom she targets.” Surprise Quiz smiled. “Her mother is going to be upset that she is alienating somepony with more political and financial leverage than she has herself.”

“How does this thing work?” Orange Slip slipped the ring onto her horn.

“You have to concentrate on changing,” Jadepool said, eyeing her coworker. “That might not be such a good idea; we have no idea if that will work for a full-grown mare.”

“Woah!” Orange Slip cried out. “My udders are on my barrel!”

Jadepool rolled her eyes. “You turn into a towering monstrosity, and the first thing you say is ‘my udders are on my barrel’.”

“They feel weird,” Orange Slip insisted. “You try it.”

“I’ll pass,” Jadepool said.

“I recognize that,” Surprise Quiz gasped. “You’re a human!”

“A human?” Orange Slip experimentally poked at her misplaced body parts. “Oooooh!”

“Yes, there were some up near the palace around Hearth’s Warming.” Surprise Quiz nodded. “Caused a considerable amount of fuss, as well.”

“Do they all have such horrid taste in clothing?” Jadepool turned her nose up at Orange Slip. “Constant Flow was wearing the same thing when she changed.”

“Worse.” Surprise Quiz shuddered. “The one I saw was wearing her kills as clothing.”

Orange Slip shuddered. “These things are dangerous, then?”

“The princesses wouldn’t let them in the city if they were,” Jadepool replied, “If it helps any, Astoria was repulsed by the idea of eating ponies.”

“That helps a lot, actually.” Orange Slip continued prodding at her interesting body parts. “I wonder what kind of prey these humans hunt and whether they can be coaxed into giving that up.”

“Just a sec.” Surprise Quiz hopped off his cushion. “Let me get a closer look at your teeth.”

“My teeth?” Orange Slip questioned.

“Yes, your teeth.” Surprise reared on his hind legs and placed his forehooves on Orange’s new playthings. “You can tell a lot about an animal if you look at its teeth.”

“Aaah!” Orange Slip said reflexively.

“You need to keep your mouth open so I can look.” Surprise Quiz scolded as she clamped her mouth shut.

“C . . . can’t help it!” Orange Slip stuttered. “M . . . my teats! C. . . . cold hooves!”

Surprise experimentally shifted his hooves to one side. "That's strange. Nopony would complain about that. There's no way they should be that big without any milk."

“Aah!” Orange Slip agreed. “that’s weird!”

“Open up and say 'aah' again,” Surprise Quiz commanded. “And this time keep your mouth open.”

“Ahh!”

“Well, offhoof, I’d say humans are omnivores. You have the hint of proper fangs as well as underdeveloped molars.” Surprise dropped back down to the floor. “Overall, they are probably safer to be around than griffins.”

“That’s a relief,” Jadepool said. “It’s not going to cut back on the counseling that Thistle most likely needs right now, but it’s still a relief.”

At that moment, right on cue, the school’s counselor strolled into the teachers’ lounge. “Hey Jadepool,” the newly arrived mare said. “I have some questions for -- Sweet Celestia!”

“If you want to ask the princess some questions, you’d be better off heading off to the palace,” Jadepool replied.

“Aaa . . . Daa . . . Hmm . . . Is that what Astoria turned into?” The counselor quickly recovered. “No wonder she’s traumatized. Who is that by the way?”

“It’s me, Orange Slip.”

“I see you couldn’t wait to play with the toy you confiscated.” The counselor tsked. “This is what Thistle encountered or does that thing have more than one setting?”

“Astoria was the same, only less than half Orange’s current size.”

The counselor sighed and turned to leave. “Do me a favor; go drag Astoria to the nurse’s office to make sure there were no adverse effects. I’m going to go and stuff a pint of ice cream down Thistle’s gullet. That should hopefully get her to stop shaking.”

“Brain freezes will do that.” Surprise Quiz nodded his head sagely.

“So,” Jadepool ventured to the room at large, “wanna put ten bits on whether antibully rings get banned or not?”

Lyra was grumbling as she led a pair of ponies into the Leaky Cauldron. “I can’t believe you two.” She seethed. “Backing traffic up with a heartsong or two wasn’t enough. No, you had to try for an encore.”

“We didn’t know,” protested Cider Stout.

“They really looked like they wanted out,” added Kindle Flame.

“You are so lucky none of them got hurt.” Lyra seethed.

“How were we supposed to know?” pouted Kindle Flame.

“They really looked like the cows back home,” Cider Stout stated defensively.

“They seemed uncomfortable in the back of that truck.” Kindle Flame nodded. “They didn’t even have scarves.”

“Lyra!” Elisa Bates said, rushing over. “I’m glad you’re back. I need to take you to the airport; there’s an overeager pony causing a commotion.”

“Airport?” Lyra asked.

“Yes, I have her description here somewhere.” Elisa started to swing her purse open.

“Don’t bother.” Lyra waved a hoof. “That would be Cherry Berry; let’s go get her.”

“Why are we stopping here, Mr. Granger?” Abagail asked as she was the last to exit the Knight Bus.

Dan smirked as he started herding his charges towards the entrance of a nursery school. “Well, I was talking to a policeman and he made the point that I shouldn’t be rewarding you for breaking the rules. He was kind enough to make some calls and you are going to spend the rest of today and all of tomorrow doing some community service.”

“Community service?” Apple Bloom asked warily. “Are ya’ll having us clean this here building?”

“Eh, I don’t mind cleaning.” Harry shrugged.

“Not exactly.” Dan smirked.

A woman walked out the front doors, holding her hand out to shake Dan’s. “Mr. Granger? I’m Madam Franks. Please, allow me to welcome you and your children to our school.”

“Hello Madam Franks, it’s nice to meet you.” Dan obligingly shook her hand. “Thank you for your willingness to accommodate us on such short notice.”

“Please,” Madam Franks chuckled good naturedly, “as if I’d pass on the opportunity. The little ones are going to be so happy. They will be thrilled to meet ponies in real life. I've made arrangements for all the children in our sister facilities visit as well.”

“Wait,” Dean broke in, “Are you telling me that you’re making us into a mobile petting zoo?”

“Pretty much.” Dan nodded. “It’ll keep you busy.”

“Daddy!” Hermione whined.

“Hello and welcome. We interrupt your normally scheduled program for yet another edition of 0921 SAW PONY.” The anchorman smiled winningly at the camera.

“It sure has been a busy day here for us,” said his blonde partner.

“For the most part, there have only been a few bumps along the way,” said the anchorman.

“However, there do appear to be a few bad apples out there.” The blonde frowned as if she were mortally offended.

“To them, we express our wish to keep the international incidents to a minimum, as in zero,” said the anchorman.

“Let us make it perfectly clear.” The blonde seethed. “Nairing ponies is not funny.”

“Charges shall be filed,” added the anchorman.

“Luckily, the wizards were readily available with a potion that turned the unfortunate victim into a giant fluffball.” The blonde smiled.

“Likewise, skelegrow was made available for the perpetrators.”

The blonde added, "And reports indicate the pony victim was later taken to a local salon."

The anchorman quirked an eyebrow. "I thought that was a barbershop."

The blonde smiled. "Now that's just splitting hairs."

Chapter 23: Playing Pesky Pests

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“A regular pony, a unicorn, and a pegasus walked into the pub.” A familiar voice came from the foyer of the small apartment.

Alex looked up curiously from the dishes he was washing. He peered expectantly at Tayla, his lifelong friend and flatmate, as he gave the obvious response to the prompt. “Oh, and what did they say to the bartender?”

“Do you have a cello?” Tayla promptly answered.

Alex scrunched his face in concentration. “I don’t get it,” he admitted.

“No. It’s not a joke.” Tayla shook her finger at him. “I mean a regular pony, a unicorn, and a pegasus are down at the pub right this minute, and the regular pony is playing a cello. She’s pretty good at it, too. How she manages with those hooves, I’ll never know.”

“She?” Alex asked, turning off the water and reaching for a towel. “You sure it’s a she? Could be a guy for all you know.”

“No, absolutely sure she’s a she. She stands on her hind legs to play, making it clear she is missing he parts.” Tayla huffed, “Why is that relevant?”

“Just that there haven’t been any males shown on the telly.” Alex shrugged. “We don’t know how they differ from the females in appearance.”

“I’m pretty sure some of the foals who beat up that werewolf were male,” Tayla countered.

“They all looked the same in armor; so, they don’t count.”

“Just hurry and come with,” Tayla said. “Mary is saving us a booth; we can discuss pony bits on the way there.”

“Why didn’t you just call from the pub?” Alex asked.

“Because you never answer the phone,” Tayla said accusingly.

“Do too,” Alex replied.

“Bollocks, you do.” Tayla scowled at the old argument. “Your own mum knows to wait until I’m home to give a ring. Hurry it up; I don’t want to miss out on any more pony time.”

The two bickered and chatted good naturedly as they speed-walked to their favorite local watering hole. It wasn’t long before they entered the unusually crowded establishment, having to push through the crowd to get to the booth their friend was reserving for them. Tayla sat down next to Mary while Alex took the seat opposite them.

“Hey guys.” Mary greeted them. “Just so you know, Larva’s on the prowl. You can expect her to come over and harass you sometime in the near future.”

“We’ll manage.” Tayla hedged.

“That pony can play really well.” Alex noted, also avoiding the subject. A crowded pub should be noisier, but most of the customers were standing around, listening to the impromptu entertainment. “That shouldn’t be possible, seeing how she lacks thumbs.”

Tayla replied, "She's a regular Yo Mama."

Quirking an eyebrow, Alex said, "I think you got something backward there."

“Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re ignoring me,” Mary scolded.

Alex first looked at Mary, then looked at Tayla before looking at his hands on the table and turning red. Meanwhile, Tayla was intensely watching the pony, her cheeks also red.

“I swear you two are impossible.” Mary huffed. “You’ve had the queen of matchmaking give you her blessing and you are both still too stubborn to see it.”

“I don’t know what that woman is thinking half the time,” Tayla grumbled. “The way she just walks up to people and grabs them.”

“You can’t argue with the results, though,” Mary returned. “How many happy couples has she brought together?”

“She threatened me and Alex.” Tayla seethed. “Without so much as introducing herself.”

“She saw that you two belong together.” Mary smiled. “Just because both of you are too terrified of losing each other to take the next step, doesn’t mean she’s wrong.”

“Drop it, Mary. I don’t . . .”

“Eeeek!”

“There she goes.” Alex watched as the crazy redhead dragged a startled, prissy-looking girl halfway across the pub before stopping in front of a stunned young man sporting a crewcut.

“Larva!” came the distinct voice of Feelers. There were exasperation and resignation in equal parts present in the reprimand.

“Just a moment,” Larva called out, turning to look in the direction from which Feelers had called.

Without looking, the redhead, casually batted away the punch the prissy girl had aimed at her. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” screamed the girl, someone who was obviously either not a student or was completely out of the loop.

“She’s getting bolder,” Alex noted as Larva pushed the girl into the crewcut man’s arms.

“Feelers is doing an absolutely horrid job of keeping her in line.” Tayla snorted.

“Do you think those two are a couple?” Mary asked.

“Possibly,” Alex said. “Just take Jeff and Bob as an example. She doesn’t shy away from those kinds of relationships.” He nodded his thanks to the waitress who had brought over some pints without being prompted. “Busy day, Sharron?”

Sharron sighed. “We’ve got people spilling in off the street ‘cause they heard we’ve got a cello-playing pony. With all the new blood, Larva’s been having a field day. Someone needs to tie that girl to a chair.”

“They tried,” Tayla said. “Apparently, she’s as good an escape artist as she is a matchmaker.”

“Speaking of Jeff and Bob.” Mary reached for her pint to take a sip. “Is Bob still in denial?”

“I’ve heard rumors of the two being seen kissing,” Sharron said. “Can I get you anything from the kitchens? I can’t stay and chat; we’re too busy for that.”

“Couple large orders of chips and bangers would go down nicely,” Tayla said.

“Alright, I’ll just go and put in an . . .”

“Move over!” Larva said gruffly, pushing Sharron aside. The next thing Alex knew was that his lap was full of something white and furry.

“Whazzat?” demanded the bundle of fur.

“Sit. Stay. I’ll be right back,” Larva said before striding off.

“Oh my God, you’ve just had your blessing rescinded,” Mary gasped, turning to Tayla. “That’s a first. I told you; you should have moved faster.”

Hot tears started collecting in Tayla’s eyes. “I told you; there was nothing. I mean, I couldn’t. I mean, what does she know?”

“What’s going on?” The white unicorn tried a second time.

“You’ve been Larvasized,” Mary told the unicorn occupying Alex’s lap.

The music suddenly stopped. “Sorry folks,” Larva’s voice called out from behind a pair of sunglasses. “I’m on a mission from the Goddess of Love.”

“You are not allowed to watch Blues Brothers again,” Feelers called out.

“Did she just?” Mary asked.

“She did,” Sharron said as she and the rest of the pub watched as Larva deposited the grey, cello-wielding pony next to Alex.

“Get your hooves off me,” Octavia said. “I never.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Larva said. “Talk to Feelers later; she handles the complaints.” Turning to Tayla, the redhead said, “Well don’t just sit there looking teary-eyed; get over here. You’ve just had a blast of how you really feel; I’m just multiplying it all around. You’re not being left out.”

Tayla looked at Larva and then looked at Alex with the two ponies. With a soft cry, she scrabbled over the table separating them, ignoring the glasses she somehow managed to avoid toppling.

“What the?” Sharron asked as she watched her regular's unexpected advance.

“She just had a flash of what it would feel like to be without him,” Larva said. “And it hurt . . . a lot.”

“You’re a menace,” Sharron told Larva.

“Ah huh,” Larva turned to Mary. “Since this is going to be a herd, you might as well stop hiding your feelings and join them.”

Mary looked back at Larva before nodding. “I’m not fool enough to ignore your advice.” She said, “I’ve seen what that did to Tayla.” With those words, she scooted out from her side of the booth, walked around the two women, lifted the grey pony and sat back down with the musician in her lap. “Happy now?” she asked.

“Almost perfect,” Larva said before striding away.

“I’d like the one with a lot of muscles,” Sharron called after the redhead, a little hope in her voice.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Larva called back over her shoulder. The grimace on her face left no doubt as to her assessment.

“Is it customary to pick somepony up like this?” Octavia asked.

“No; Larva doesn’t do customary,” Mary assured her. “She does, however, have a perfect track record at matchmaking.”

“Subtle, she is not.” Octavia frowned.

“Are you okay? You’re shaking.” Vinyl asked Tayla who was clutching Alex’s arm. The woman nodded at the unicorn, not loosening her grip.

“Coming through!” Cloud Kicker said as she flapped over the gaping crowd. “What the hay was that all abouoooof!”

“Mind the wall,” Mary said dryly as she watched the pegasus drop onto the recently vacated bench across the table.

“Ow?” uttered Cloud Kicker.

“Please,” Octavia said, “some of us have witnessed you plowing into the ground going full tilt.”

“That cider had a lot more kick than it has any right too,” Cloud Kicker said, righting herself. “Anyways, what was that all about?”

“That human just threw us all together and said ‘you’re a herd.’” Octavia scrunched her muzzle.

“Really? That was easy.” Cloud Kicker studied the glass in front of her. “What’s this?”

“That’s a proper stout,” Alex informed her. “Hold on a moment; did I just get myself a harem?”

“No.” Cloud Kicker sniffed the drink. “You’re not the first human stallion to ask that. You didn’t gain a harem; you gained a family, big difference.”

“Is that all for the music?” asked a random guy in the crowd.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” came Larva’s voice in reply.

“Intermission it is then,” the guy said. “Love, could I get another pint?”

“Sure thing.” Sharron hurried away from the table to do her job.

“So, we just accept it and form a herd?” Octavia asked.

“We’re all pretty sure that whatever Larva does, magic is involved somehow,” Mary said. “She hasn’t been wrong yet.”

“Still, it does seem rather . . . abrupt.” Octavia stated.

“She’s tossed a girl into the bath with an unsuspecting bloke before,” Alex said. “Those two are talking marriage from what I hear.”

“This is good,” Cloud Kicker said. When she noticed that she and her half empty glass had the attention of those on the opposite bench she continued. “Don’t mind me. Go back to your bonding.”

Octavia sighed exasperatedly. “Vinyl, aren’t you going to say something?”

“Getting belly rubbed here.”

“She’s not going to be any help now,” Cloud Kicker commented.

“Ack!”

“Oh look,” Mary said. “Larva’s found another victim.”

“That was quick.” Alex muttered.

Mayor Mare looked around at the hastily gathered ponies in the town square. In her opinion, a scribbled letter from the perfectionist town librarian on a Tuesday could not herald fortuitous tidings. After reading the missive, she was now of mixed feelings on the information it had disclosed. Surely, it would be a shock for more than one resident of her town.

As she expected, there was more than one worried face in the crowd as she took the podium. She had everypony's unwavering attention without uttering a single word. That didn’t stop the questions from starting before she was properly settled.

“When’s the hydra attack?”

Mayer Mare sighed but decided to answer. “There have not been any sightings of the creature as of this morning,” she said to soothe the worries of the gathered ponies.

“What have the Crusaders built this time?” demanded an optimist.

“The foals are on an outing in the human world.” Mayor Mare winced. “That being said, it would be advisable to avoid the area of the Apple farm bordering the Everfree Forest for the foreseeable future.”

“Has Sweetie Belle been allowed in somepony’s kitchen?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Mayor Mare said. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I do have an important announcement to make.”

“Does it involve explosives?”

Mayor Mare actually glared at the stallion who had asked that. “No, but on that note, nopony is allowed to sell the Crusaders bulk amounts of fertilizer. In fact, all fertilizer purchases for the farm should be going through the elder siblings.” She paused for a second. “In fact, any bulk purchases made by the Crusaders should be reported to the proper authorities immediately.”

There were a lot of nodding heads at that suggestion.

“Now to the reason for which I have called everypony together on such short notice.” Mayor Mare placed a single sheet of paper onto the podium. “I have a letter from Twilight Sparkle that just arrived.”

These words caused an expectant silence to clamp down on the crowd.

“It would seem there are a couple of important facts that need to be brought to the attention of those of you with the means to turn into humans.”

The mayor paused to run her eyes over the gathered ponies, noting the impatience building in those mares who fell into that category.

“It needs to be brought to the attention of these individuals that human females are able to become pregnant year-round.”

A loud gasp rolled across the ponies listening to her.

“It is understood that this information should have been divulged sooner. To that point, a human healer shall be at the hospital shortly to perform a test . . .”

Whatever else she was going to say was drowned out by the stampede of hooves retreating from the town square, headed in the direction of the medical facility. Those who had chosen to remain appeared to be stunned by the haste as which the mares had departed.

One particularly frazzled mare rasped, "Buck me!"

Mayor Mare sighed. “This is why we can’t have good town gatherings.”

To the trained eye, the recent signs of death were obvious in Professor Severus Snape’s quarters. What had once been a drab and functional living area was now full of color. Anyone with a lick of sense would instantly recognize that there was now a female in residence, admittedly, one with some exotic tastes if all of the painted wooden masks were any indication. It was also apparent that she had taken full advantage of her husband’s ability to produce flowering plants in the middle of winter. What had been his sanctuary and his alone had now been claimed in equal measure by the newcomer. All traces of bachelorhood were truly dead and buried.

The female in the room had cornered the male and had come to stand nervously in front of him. “A conversation needs to come to pass, before either of us go to our class.”

“Whatever is the matter, Zecora?” Severus asked his wife, wrapping her in a hug, an act that he still would not do in front of his students, despite becoming accustomed to them in private.

“I must admit I was surprised, when Twilight opened up my eyes,” Zecora said.

“Twilight?” Severus asked. “What did she have to say?”

“She suggested I get a potion, maybe. Pomfrey declined; it is bad for the baby.”

“That’s not a problem. Any potion that Pomfrey could give you was brewed by me in the first place. I can . . .” Zecora watched as the pieces fell into place. “Baby?”

“'Baby' is the first word coming to my tongue, when I refer to one exceedingly young.”

“Baby?” Severus repeated.

Zecora nodded, watching her stallion closely.

“I’m going to be a father?”

“Truly I must confess, the answer is a yes.”

“I’m going to be a father.”

“You do seem unsteady.” Zecora had a shy smile on her lips. “That was said already.”

“I’m going to be a father. I never thought this would happen.” Severus pulled Zecora closer to himself, placing his cheek next to hers. “You have filled a gaping hole in my life. I am going to be a father -- not just a sire. I am going to raise and nurture our own flesh and blood.”

“Are you aching? You are shaking.”

“I am going to be a father.” Severus whispered. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“That would be my cue, to tell you times two.” Zecora held up a piece of paper with a letter written on it.

Andromeda Tonks looked at the room full of colorful ponies who were all looking back at her expectantly. “I see that the mayor got Twilight’s letter,” she said unnecessarily.

The ponies continued staring at her until one of them asked. “Why are you made out of crystal?”

“It’s a long story,” Andi sighed.

“Were the Crusaders involved?” asked a pinto mare. “If so, you can save a lot of time by just saying, ‘The Crusaders happened.’”

“No, Dan’s taking care of them for the day.” Andi shook her sparkling head. “It really is disturbing that that phrase is an actual thing.”

“They are only going to be here for a week. Something is going to happen; they are on a time limit.”

“Okay, we are getting off topic. Now, I know this comes as a shock to all of you. In truth, it slipped everyone’s minds that certain facts should have been communicated to every pony becoming human for the first time. I am here to rectify that right now. So, we are going to do this in three stages. First of all, I am going to check each of you for any pregnancies. Secondly, if you come up negative and you so choose, Nurse Redheart here will issue you a potion that will prevent that from occurring for six months.”

As one the mares turned to look at a waving and smiling Redheart before turning back to Andromeda.

“And finally, everypony needs to stay and hear some of the basics of being a woman. You are going to hate the word menstruation by the time you leave.”

Barnaby’s mother, Imogen chose that moment to put in her two knuts worth. “I can attest to that.” She had followed the procession with more than a little hope in her eyes.

“Oh?” Andi focused on the mare who had singled herself out. “I don’t think I’ve met you. What’s your name?”

“Imogen Lee.” The mare froze when she realized her blunder.

The other mares were all taken by surprise when Andi’s expression turned ugly. Her wand seemingly teleported into hand and was pointed squarely at the center of Imogen’s forehead. “Why are the next words coming out of my mouth not going to be the piercing curse?” the human healer demanded.

“You’re a healer. Y-you wouldn’t.” Imogen took an involuntary step backward.

“I would consider it my duty to protect those you might harm.”

“I . . . I . . . I . . .” Imogen sputtered. She was saved from answering when a body placed itself between the mare and the angry human.

“Woah! Woah!” called out Carrot Top. “There’s no need for that. Princess Celestia knows she is here. Everything is under control. Nopony is getting hurt.”

“She’s dangerous,” Andi stated, lifting Carrot Top out of the way with a wave of her wand. However, when her focus was no longer pointed at Imogen, a blue glow surrounded it and her hand, locking them in place.

“Calm down; calm down,” said Minuette, the source of the glow. “You know what? That’s starting to become my catchphrase.”

“Do you know what she’s done?” Andi tugged fruitlessly at her trapped appendage.

“No,” Berry Punch said. “We don’t. She’s too ashamed to tell us. We do, however, know that her family had raised her to do what she did.” She fixed Andi with an unblinking gaze. “We are her family now.”

“Besides, Princess Celestia had her take a crushing oath on her life; she’s harmless,” Carrot Top said before looking at the floor. “Would you mind putting me down now?”

Andi scowled first at Imogen and then at Minuette before shortly nodding her head. With a sigh, Minuette released her magic and Carrot Top was returned to the floor. “I need everypony to change into their human form so I can perform the scan for pregnancies.”

“Angry humans are scary,” Redheart commented as the roomful of mares became a roomful of human women with colorful hair.

“Line up please,” Andi said, glancing at Imogen’s still-pony form, but otherwise not commenting.

“What’s this?” A stallion’s voice interrupted the proceedings before they could begin.

“We were just about to do some pregnancy testing, Professor Vague Theory,” Nurse Redheart said.

“That’s not what I meant,” Vague Theory said. “I mean what are tho . . . never mind, this is another one of those three headed dog things, isn’t it?”

“Hello Healer Tonks,” Dr. Horse said, having arrived with the professor. “I’m glad you’re here. We’d love your unique perspective on a current case we are treating.”

“Is it urgent?” Andi asked.

“Not so much anymore.” Vague Theory sighed. “There was no physical damage beyond a slight coloration discrepancy and an ill-suited vocal range, so we decided to lock the enchantments as they were before something unfortunate happened. We were left with a pink colt who has a voice that would be more appropriate on a full-grown stallion.”

“I’d be glad to have a look,” Andi said as she noticed another mare walking up the hallway. “Hello Fluttershy.”

“H . . . hi Andi,” Fluttershy said . . . well . . . shyly.

“You may as well get in line, too,” Andi said kindly. “We were looking for you earlier.”

“Oh . . . okay. If you think it’s a good idea.” Fluttershy trotted to the end of the line and stood up as a human.

Professor Vague Theory fixed Dr. Horse with a questioning gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll explain later,” Dr. Horse assured him. “What spell is that?” he questioned Andi as she started to wave her wand.

“It’s a precise pregnancy detecting charm,” Andi said. “Here, let me teach it to you.”

“I swear they are doing this just to raise the tension,” the transfigured pinto mare complained.

“Oh, give them a minute,” said the woman directly behind her. “This way we get a second opinion without having to get out of line.”

“Um . . . why are we in line?” asked Fluttershy.

“We’re waiting to see if we’re pregnant,” Carrot Top said.

“What?” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Apparently, humans can get pregnant anytime of the year,” Berry Punch said.

“oh . . .”

Vague Theory peered down the line of strange two-legged things, some of which were probably ponies in disguise. “How many times can that mare faint in one day?” he asked.

“I’ll get the smelling salts.” Nurse Redheart sighed.

“I got her,” Andi said, pointing with her wand. “Rennervate.”

“And there’s another spell you need to teach me,” Dr. Horse said.

“Later,” Andi said. “We’ve got people waiting on us.” She gestured for the first woman to come forward to be scanned. “Clear,” she stated after waving her wand.

“Same,” said Dr. Horse.

The next woman came forward as the first hurried over to collect a potion from Nurse Redheart.

“Clear,” Andi repeated.

“Confirmed,” said Dr. Horse. This woman did not opt for a potion.

“Clear,” Andi said a third time.

“Confirmed,” Dr. Horse added, and there was another potion imbiber.

“This isn’t so bad.” Carrot Top stepped up for her turn.

“Your pregnant,” Andi informed her.

“I concur,” Dr. Horse said.

“Buck me!”

"Your herdmates might object,” said Dr. Horse.

The apothecary storekeeper took in the sight of her newest customers and a slight smile crossed her lips. “I take it you’ll be wanting a potion to untangle your hair?” she asked as she shared that smile with the wizard who had escorted them into her place of business.

“Yes please,” said Hermione.

“We’ll all be needing two doses,” added Ginny. “We’ve got the same thing coming tomorrow.”

“He doesn’t seem so bad.” The store keeper pointed at one of the boys. “His hair is too short.”

“You should see me tail.” The boy shrank down and was soon displaying a poorly braided example.

“Okay,” said the storekeeper, who only squeed a few times upon seeing Seamus in his pony form. “First of all, let me note that this potion is to be applied directly to your hair. It is not to be ingested.”

“In that case, better make it four doses apiece,” Luna said. “We’ll be using twice as much.”

“I think it’s about time we take this back to our place,” Alex said, staring at the pegasus, who hadn’t lifted her head from the table for a good twenty minutes.

“We would be honored to accept your hospitality,” Octavia said. “Isn’t that right Vinyl?”

A soft snore was her only reply.

“She’s out of it, too,” Tayla said.

Octavia sighed. “I can’t take these two anywhere. Here we are in a strange new world, and what do they do? They gravitate towards the nearest alcohol. The salt shaker on the table didn’t help any either.”

“Yeah, we will have to remember salt has that effect on ponies,” Mary said.

“Only if one overindulges.” Octavia sniffed.

“I’m glad Sharron stopped refilling it after the third time,” Tayla said. “Wave her over so we can pay our tab.”

Alex did just that and soon the waitress was standing at their booth. “How much do we owe you?” Mary asked as Octavia produced a wad of bullseyes from somewhere.

“We changed some bits into human money,” the mare said. “The numbering seems straightforward enough.”

“Oh, we can’t take that,” Sharron said, handing Octavia some pound notes. “You brought in so much custom that it’s only fair to compensate you for your time; your tab is paid in full. My boss would be over giving this to you himself, but we have a minor emergency in the kitchen. I’m to tell you that you are welcome back anytime.”

“Minor emergency?” Alex queried.

“Don’t ask.” Sharron winced.

“This emergency wouldn’t be in the form of a small white unicorn filly, would it?” asked Octavia.

“No?” Sharron blinked. “Why would it?”

Octavia sighed in relief. “Back home, that is the first question to ask whenever anypony mentions an emergency in the kitchen.”

“That’s . . . weird.” Tayla frowned.

“Trust me, you’ll only say that the first time,” Octavia assured her.

“Move over!” Larva said, pushing Sharron out of her way once again.

“Oooof!” cried out the occupants of the booth as a weight was distributed across their laps.

“The booths aren’t that big,” Sharron complained.

“She dragged me out of my apartment,” the young man now laying lengthwise atop everyone said. “I was in the middle of typing my essay for next week.”

“She dragged you?” asked Mary.

“She’s stronger than she looks.”

“Larva, I don’t swing that way,” Alex whined.

“You don’t have to. Use your other head.” Larva smirked. "Now, it's perfect." With that, she strolled away.

Vinyl snorted awaked to find a human somewhere one hadn’t been before. “Buck me!”

Octavia sniffed. "Really, Vinyl. The proper term is 'consummate'."

Chapter 24: Sleep Slumber and Shuteye

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After dark, the castle was a completely different beast. What were once wide open, light filled, and airy corridors became a sanctuary of shadows. The puddles of illumination cast by the evenly spaced torches were no match for the encroaching gloom. It was her new playground, a marvelous wonderland of opportunity. Despite her hard hooves, she was almost silent as she traversed from one well of darkness to another. Finding comfort and security in the absence of light, she found a new element and claimed it as her own. Already, two professors had patrolled within a few feet of her; neither had been the least bit aware of her presence. The night belonged to her.

She might not have figured out how to fly yet, but that was only a matter of time. Clinging to the ceilings and higher places might have decreased her chances of being caught, but for now, she would content herself with being landbound. She was having more than enough trouble compensating for her diminutive form without adding in flight lessons to her first foray exploring Hogwarts after curfew. The sheer audacity of it almost made her feel like a Gryffindor. She, however, was something no Gryffindor could ever hope to match. Well, okay, maybe Lovegood and that Bates mudblood could come close, but the rest hadn’t a prayer.

She was liquid motion, flowing noiselessly through the realms of darkness. Undetectable, she was free to explore to her heart’s content. Still, she did have classes tomorrow; it was time to return to her bed and get some sleep. Having made up her mind, she turned her nose in the direction of the dungeons and tip hooved toward the next hole in the scarce light.

“You really aren’t that stealthy.”

Pansy froze with one hoof held an inch above the floor; her ears swiveled as she tried to lock onto the source of the voice. Was she imagining things now?

“Still, I suppose you aren’t too bad for a neophyte.”

Whipping her head back and forth, Pansy was at a loss for words. Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull when a larger pony melted out of the shadows that still defied her own enhanced eyesight.

“You do have potential.” Pansy winced when she recognized the pony that had been introduced at supper as Extra Security. She had failed to consider the elder thestral when she resolved to indulge in her midnight excursion.

The mare circled, studying the shaking foal with unblinking eyes. Then without warning, Extra Security used her muzzle to flip Pansy over. The filly landed on her back with all of her limbs splayed out at awkward angles; including her wings.

“Well, you are a filly,” Extra Security stated. “I guess it was too much hoping that you’d be a colt.”

Pansy squawked with indignity as she righted herself.

“Technically, I should be taking points.” Extra Security reached out and used her mouth to correct the way the filly had folded her right wing. “However, keeping you locked in a dorm at night would be cruel. You need to wander on a regular basis.”

Pansy looked up at the larger pony and let herself smile.

“Don’t just stand there.” Extra Security smiled back. “Change into your human form; I’d like to know whom I’m dealing with.”

Seeing no way out of it, Pansy stood up as a human. She shivered when she realized she had just been wearing her dressing gown when she had changed into a pony; the cold stone of the passageway sucked away her warmth.

“A Slytherin if I’m not mistaken.” Extra Security nodded knowingly. “In that case, let me escort you back to the dungeons; you still have classes tomorrow.”

Pansy shrunk back into her pony form and obediently followed after the more experienced nightwalker as she again became one with the darkness.

Sirius Black lay on his crowded bed and basked in the warmth of his wives. It had been two weeks, and he still had episodes of being struck speechless at the thought of becoming a father. Intellectually, he knew it was the natural outcome of the activities in which he and his partners had been engaging, but there was a difference between knowing it could happen and it becoming reality. When the time came, he’d be ready, but it was going to take some time to get into the proper mindset.

But first, he had to help Twilight out of her current dichotomous existence. The woman had been ping-ponging between being in a funk over her perceived failure at the task her princess had set for her and the euphoria common among expectant mothers. Sirius had been there when Princess Celestia had informed Twilight that she hadn’t failed the test; it just had been completed in an unexpected manner, confirming that luck was always a factor. However, this did little to soothe the guilt Twilight felt at the thought of disappointing her mentor. It would take some time and a lot more hugs before Twilight got over the discontentment.

Pinkie, on the other hand, was in a constant state of . . . being Pinkie. She had been bouncing around so much that Sirius, Ted and Remus were all developing whiplash. Surprisingly, so was Bellatrix, but that was a can of worms that Sirius refused to open. It was bad enough that Pinkie had informed him that she was taking her herd to meet her family. The train tickets for later in the week had already been purchased.

Then there was Rainbow Dash; it was abundantly clear that she was feeling left out and was determined to correct that infraction. With a perverse dedication, she had jumped Sirius every day since they found out the other two were expecting. She was relentless, but he wasn’t complaining, and he suspected Andi was supplying Rainbow with certain potions. It would only be a matter of time and effort before he was three for three in that department. That was time and effort well spent, as far as Sirius was concerned.

The oddest reaction was also, in many ways, the most understandable. By any measure, Bella was becoming unidentifiable as the woman who had been tossed into Azkaban all those years ago. A good portion of that might very well be her mandatory sessions with both the mind healers and the muggle sigh-something or other. Sirius’ cousin was swapping periods of wanting to be left alone to sulk with cycles of going around hugging everyone; letting the object of her attention know just how much she appreciated them. An activity which his pony wives were always more than happy to participate, no matter how surely Rainbow felt she needed to be perceived in order to preserve her reputation. Whatever was in those prescriptions she was on, Sirius was going to make sure they remained filled, although, the amount of love honey that Nissy kept plying her with might also have something to do with it. As it stood, the only times Bella was dangerous were those few instances when anyone was unwise enough to get between her and her soap operas.

The redistribution of weight on the mattress instantly brought the two remaining occupants of the bed to full wakefulness, a reasonable state of affairs when you stopped to consider that one of them had a less than happy life so far, and the other used to make her home in a place where heavy slumber would only contribute to her sleeping through her own demise.

“Is it that time already?” Severus asked, pulling Zecora closer to himself to make up for the loss of his other wife.

“Yep.” Applejack shook her head in a vain attempt to get her hair out of her eyes. “Morning chores won’t do themselves. Go back ta sleep, y'all don’t need ta be up yet.”

“True, we must reap an added hour’s sleep.” Eyes closed to punctuate the sentence.

“Y'all are so cute together.” Applejack lent down to kiss Zecora on her forehead before pressing her lips to Severus, who didn’t have half his face hidden in the covers.

“We are better when you are lying here next to us,” Severus said.

“Ah wish I could stay.” Applejack grinned. “But responsibilities are a calli. Ah’ll be back ‘fore too long. Now go back ta sleep; Lodestone is waiting fer my tail ta get in that pouch of his.”

Not seeing any benefit in complaining about his wife’s routine, Severus said. “Have a good day. Please tell Granny and Big Mac that we say hello.”

“Will do.”

Once upon a time, the building had been known as Malfoy Manor. That time was a memory now, as the structure had been renamed Cheese Sauce Fondue, or C'est Cheese for short, much to the chagrin of the poor attendant who had been responsible for registering the change in name. She hadn’t thrown the application into the face of the customer when asked if she thought the name was too cheesy, but it had been a close thing.

Several adjustments to the property had become evident since it had a transition of ownership. Some of the peacocks, that roamed the estate were now displaying some curious coloration. It was saying something that the plaid specimen was plausibly the least memorable of the lot. Something similar had happened to all of the drapery, leading to the edict that, chaotic immortal or not, the women had the final say on any and all decorations. The results may not have been the uniform drudgery of the Deatheater, but they weren’t so jarring to the eyes after a few minor changes in attitude.

The master suite had gone through some modifications as well. Where there had once been a large four poster mahogany bed now rested something that was half bed, half glade, half water mattress and half nest, all in more dimensions than the human mind could comprehend. It was decidedly, entirely, impossibly comfortable, despite the houndstooth silk duvet that covered paisley satin sheets. Lying on the unusual furniture were three figures, two of which were primarily complementary shades of brown, though their limbs and heads introduced various other hues. The third was a familiar, lovable, yellow pony, an individual of unrivaled sweetness whom many felt was a true para . . . urk!

Without looking, Discord reached out a claw, putting it through a hazy window in the air. A second later, he hauled the author’s head and torso through the portal, firmly holding onto the shirt the poor, abused, innocent individual was wearing.

“I thought we already had a discussion about scenes like this,” the draconequus said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Right . . . moving on then . . .

The lord of the manor lay on his back, enjoying the weight of the two members of the fairer sex splayed across his chest. In an amazing turn of fortune, his wife had been more than enthusiastic at the prospect of adding another woman to their family. As of yet, he still wasn’t sure where that sentiment had come from; his wife had always been the jealous type before, but she had welcomed the other woman into their bed and into their hearts. Against every expectation, it had worked out smoothly, leaving him with two wives where there had been one.

Now, his new wife was pregnant, granting him another roll of the dice for the chance of having a male heir. With the way his luck was going, there was no way he wasn’t getting a son this time. Life was good.

Then there were the political connections he had gained. His second wife was a Knight Elemental in her homeland, lending much prestige to House Greengrass. Furthermore, she had personal connections with the rulers of that wealthy kingdom, while her sister would be an invaluable ally in the Wizengamot. That sister was also a conduit to many more influential individuals, not the least of which was the Potter heir.

On top of all that, Rarity was a rare beauty of impeccable breeding. Her charms were very desirable, to say nothing of the pleasures of the flesh she offered. There had been mornings where he had been reluctant to leave the bedroom. If not for the need to provide for his wives and his children, he might have given into the temptations.

His children were also doing very well for themselves. His eldest and current heir was doing well in her schooling and, according to Rarity, was positioned to be accepted into the same herd as her new aunt. That was a checkmate move, as far as Lord Greengrass was concerned. The relationships that both houses could now cultivate gave him access to the highest levels of government in two worlds. Meanwhile, his youngest had started her formal schooling at an uncommonly young age. Granted, it was unorthodox, but he wasn’t blind to the potential value of the venture.

The lord ran a hand down the sleeping bodies of each of his loving wives, enjoying the feel of the ones who belonged to him. Yes, the future was bright for the Greengrass family.

Harry Potter smacked his lips and looked around, bleary-eyed. His pillow had escaped. Unable to move much due to Luna’s human arm being draped over his body, he reached out and latched onto a tail with his teeth. He gave a good yank, setting his pillow back where he wanted it.

“Hey!” complained Lavender before closing her eyes and falling back asleep.

Things had been relatively dull ever since the herd had returned to school. The most exciting incident had been the confiscation of the remainder of their explosives. Other than that, it had mostly been schooling as normal, with only a few bumps along the way. With any luck, the faculty wouldn't have any reason to learn about the more unorthodox uses of aluminum.

Of course, since they were learning magic, those bumps could be painful. One such example was the class where Professor Flitwick had taught them the charm for igniting candle wicks. That had been enlightening. The small professor had just distributed the candles and was giving the okay to practice when Abagail and Apple Bloom looked at each other in alarm before turning to look at Dean who was sitting behind them. The two girls then dove out of their seats and started rolling for cover.

In the desk in front of them, Susan Bones had seen their reaction and had promptly snatched her friend Hanna, dragging the surprised girl out of the line of fire. The professor’s desk, on the other hand, hadn’t been as lucky. It was only due to the professor’s quick reflexes that it had only received a few scorch marks. This had led to Dean being forbidden from casting any fire-based spells without the supervision of someone with at least N.E.W.T.-level proficiency in pyromancy.

Really, the only new thing was a strange habit Magah had picked up. Instead of following the herd around all day, she had taken to spending her mornings, after breakfast, on two legs in the Gryffindor common room watching telly programs for young children.

With a snort, Harry saw that he wasn’t the only one to have lost their pillow. In the light of a softly glowing Hermione, Harry watched Ron yank a blue form back into position and lay his head on her barrel.

“We are buying sooooo many throw pillows first chance we get,” Parvati grumbled.

Life was different from everything he had experienced so far. It wasn’t just one change either; it was a complete overhaul of his previous existence. His new school wasn’t the same type of predator Smeltings Academy had been. The only comparison would be that they were both boarding schools; after that, all similarities went in the wastebin.

For one thing, he wasn’t at the top of the pecking order anymore. He had tried to get Ralph to do his homework for him once. In response, the smaller boy had just looked at him and asked. “You do realize one of these days I’m going to be able to cast fireball?” That had put things in a whole different prospective. Or as Ralph put it, his class’s primary trait was now intelligence, not strength, and he had better buckle down and work on raising that statistic.

Even worse, Dinky had not been happy at his attempted display of dominance. He wasn’t sure why that bothered him so much, but it put paid to any future attempts. This mess resulted in his having to do his own homework for the first time in his academic career. This revealed that he needed to study to understand the material to get decent grades on his homework. From that, he learned that he didn’t know how to study. That, in turn, led to Dinky teaching him the basics.

He was spending a lot of time with Dinky, now that he thought about it. Wondering if it was time to get up, he looked at his alarm clock and saw he still had sleep coming his way. With a sigh, he pulled the small blonde closer to himself and smiled.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Button Mash yawned and stretched in the arms of the girl who had been snuggling him tightly. He wasn’t even sure which girl it was, just that she was one who shared the tent with him. Once again, he cursed himself for being such a heavy sleeper. Every night, he’d go to bed in his own bed; the next morning he’d wake up next to one of the girls. They had decided that he was their communal snuggle buddy. Without a doubt, they had worked out a rotation and everything.

He had tried going to sleep in his human form, but the girls had learned that they just had to nudge him and ask him to change. Apparently, he was extremely accommodating when he was more asleep than not.

Dispirited, he had suggested that they do the same to Rumble, but the pegasus was a much lighter sleeper. He, on the other hoof, would sleep through being shot out of a cannon. He was almost certain he had destroyed all of the negatives.

In a bed much too big for him, he slumbered. As a house rule, his housemates no longer bothered him when he was sleeping, well, with the exception of Ralph, who was making waking him into an artform. Princess Celestia had already thanked the young human for the roses and lilies he had sent her on two separate occasions.

Unlike Button Mash, he didn’t have the curious experience of waking in a different bed every morning, even though he was arguably a heavier sleeper than the brown colt. To be honest, it was true that he checked the ‘cute’ box as far as the girls were concerned; but there was a reason his name was Spike and not something like, say, Downy or Fuzzy.

The net result was that when he lay down to sleep at night, he was generally left alone until Ralph decided it was time for everypony to wake up.

The Ravenclaw girls' dorm was a slight misnomer as on most nights there were no girls in it. There were, however, an equal number of fillies to the number of girls it should have contained. As a whole, the group had access to three transfiguration rings, one belonging to Sue Li, the second to Mandy Brocklehurst and the remainder was Padma Patil’s. It may have been a bit of a hassle to pass them around so each girl could hold one in their mouths to transform, but they made do. Luckily, Padma had gotten to the point where she could change without the use of hers.

It went without saying that making Sue Li mad in the room was frowned upon. Being Ravenclaws, they hadn’t needed to be burned to come to that conclusion. Gryffindors were known for overriding their survival instincts, Ravenclaws, not so much.

Anyone entering that dorm would have found a pile of fluffy bodies on one of the beds and no other occupants. Anyone foolish enough to assault one would quickly learn why ponies had formed herds.

The Slytherin girl’s dorm was in a similar state, the main difference being the darkness being held at bay by the steady glow of the green filly with her head resting on the yellow unicorn’s shoulder. There was also a shadow isolating itself and sticking to the ceiling, but she was hard to make out even in the soft green light.

There was a large mustard yellow earth pony filly in the pile on the bed, proving that not all ponies were cute despite being cuddly. Along with her were another pale grey unicorn and an off-white pegasus.

Perhaps, it should be noted that there were two fewer fillies in the room than one might have expected. To be more accurate, they were not visible at first glance, having climbed into one of the trunks all but carrying a colt with them every night.

If anyone were to ask which girls' dorm had pony piles, Hufflepuff would have been second on that list right after the Gryffindors. It was, therefore, paradoxical that it was the only first year girl’s dorm lacking that particular feature. There was a bed holding a unicorn, a bed holding an earth pony, and a bed holding a pegasus. The remaining beds held human girls. It was kind of ironic that the house of friendship and loyalty hadn’t thought of sharing their rings around. Or maybe they were more hygienically conscious.

It had been a very long time since he had been in a bed this large. Okay, it had been a long time since he was this small that a normal sized bed seemed this big to him. He was back at square one, once again dependent upon the goodwill of strangers. Curiously, it wasn’t angering him. After all, he had come across his patience the hard way. What was the pitiful time needed to regain his adulthood compared to a thousand years of near sleep? He had time to regain his strength. He had time to learn about this new world. He had time.

He also had a family, something of which he wasn’t quite sure what to make. Pleasant Thoughts had insisted on taking him in as soon as she found out he didn’t have any living parents. There was a mound of paperwork to complete, but her profession allowed for his immediate placement under her care as opposed to the orphanage. So, he could now claim Crisp Lick as his sister.

The down side was, of course, being required to attend school again, not to mention rebuilding his power to any semblance of what it had once been. That would take more time.

Luckily, he had time.

Besides, playing hoofball again was kind of fun.

Andi couldn’t hold it in anymore. Nature had a package and wasn’t willing to wait any longer. Oh well, it was nearly time to get up anyway. She shuffled out from under the covers, avoiding waking Ted after years of practice. Her erratic hours had made it a necessary skill. She paused, sitting on the edge of the bed long enough to stretch and release the tightness in some of her bunched muscles. Then, she retrieved her housecoat from the back of the chair near their bed as her feet found her slippers. From there, it was a quick shuffle to the ensuite to perform her morning ablutions.

It was an unmentionable amount of time later that she left the washroom. Unmentionable, because any man knows not to mention how much time a woman spends in that particular room. Either that, or he learns to love sleeping on the couch. Andi then made her way into the corridor to go downstairs to break her fast.

On the way, she stopped by a certain room. Her hope wasn’t as prevalent as it had been, but it was still there. She was, however, prepared for another day of disappointment. What she wasn’t prepared for was the fulfillment of her wishes. It is safe to say that the entire house was awakened by her screaming. There may have been a bottleneck at the top of the stairs as the house’s occupants rushed to find out what could cause that outburst. Two of the individuals chose to take alternative means to rush downstairs. One hopped into the air, transforming, and proving why she was considered the fastest pegasus in Equestria. The other bounced along the walls, rushing along it like a skater using her momentum to stay . . . only she really hadn’t built up enough momentum . . . and she wasn’t a pegasus or thestral . . . and she was hopping sideways . . . Seriously Pinkie, what the buck? I’ve already had Discord breaking the 4th wall this chapter, not to mention the seams on my shirt’s collar; don’t you start with me as well.

It wasn’t long before the entire household was standing in a certain doorway, staring at Andi and looking for danger.

“It’s happened!” Andi cried out, hopping and clapping her hands. Her gaze never leaving the family tapestry. “I was starting to doubt, but it’s finally happened.”

She took a quill to a parchment on the writing table snug in the corner of the room as the rest of the family filed in to examine the wall hanging.

“Kreacher!” Andi called out. When the elderly elf popped into the room she commanded. “Take this and attach it to an owl with the instructions to find Glados.”

“Kreacher will,” the elf said before popping out.

“Are you happy now?” Ted asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before going over to hug his wife.

“I told you not to worry,” Twilight said wrapping one arm around Sirius’ middle as Rainbow did the same from his other side. “She got to it in her own time.”

“This calls for a party!”

“That it does,” agreed Bella with a yawn.

Sirius smiled, reaching out to run a finger over the new word. “Our family is growing,” he stated unnecessarily.

Everyone nodded their agreement as they watched one portrait transform from human to avian. It was linked to a similar portrait, labeled with a single name: Gordon.

The form stopped before the closed door and narrowed her eyes in irritation. It took a couple hops before she managed to catch the handle in her mouth and properly twist it. The portal creaked slightly as she pushed it open. She peered inside, scrunching her nose at the rank smell of sweat that the air freshening charms and pink scented candles could not cover. On the bed she could see the overweight form breathing steadily in her sleep.

Nodding to herself, she retreated a few steps to pick up the iron skillet she had found in the unused kitchen. It took three attempts to jump onto the bed with the added mass, but she managed to avoid waking the occupant of the room. For a minute she stared down at the face of the sleeping woman, anger building the entire time. Then, in one swift motion she brought the skillet up high over her head.

“No!”

*Clang!*

“More!”

*Clang!*

“Pretty!”

*Clang!*

“Pink!”

*Clang!*

“Pajamas!”

*Clang!*

“No!”

*Clang!*

“More!”

*Clang!*

“Insufferable!”

*Clang!*

“Cooing!”

*Clang!*

“I!”

*Clang!*

“Am!”

*Clang!*

"Lord!"

*Clang!*

“Voldemort!”

*Cluff!*

She tossed the bloody cookware off the bed before snatching the wand off the end table. It was time for her to strike out on her own.

It was past time for him to strike out on HIS own.

Chapter 25: Deligating Dining, and Diverging

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It is an undeniable truth that the offspring of bureaucracy is paperwork. This pulpy progeny is the product of neither love nor legacy. Instead, it is the livelihood of faceless facets of an uglier underbelly of government. It takes a special breed to thrive where the grandeur of the written word is quashed by the need to track status and progress. Mrs. Aarthi C. Clarke, nee Gupta, had been tasked with entering this renown school of magic into the records of the British government. This primarily meant collecting all of the vital statistics and entering them in the proper locations on the appropriate forms. Consequently, another tree had been fated to die.

So far, everything she had found had been routine, aside from the aesthetics. She had been met at the gates by a man she had recognized as a kindred spirit; he was known to the students as the Muggle Studies professor. He had led her into the main structure just as the first class of the day ended, bringing her into corridors teeming with children.

“Mrs. Clarke,” her guide said, “as you can see, there are some things universally constant with every school.” He gestured at the milling students lazily making their ways to their next class. “There is little excitement between periods, aside from the normal teenage drama.”

“Drama seasoned with magic, I’d imagine,” Mrs. Clarke stated in return.

“Technically, magic is not supposed to be used in the hallways,” the Muggle Studies professor said.

“Technically, students aren’t allowed to smoke. Yet there isn’t a school on the isles where that does not occur,” Mrs. Clarke countered.

“True.” The Muggle Studies professor nodded. “However, despite the potential for mayhem, there hasn’t been a major incident in the time that I’ve been here.”

“And minor incidents?” Mrs. Clarke asked.

“One or two a w . . .” the Muggle Studies Professor started when a woman came running down the corridor yelling her head off.

“Against the wall!” Professor Trelawney bellowed, lifting the hem of her robes as she rushed forward. “Everybody! Against the wall!” Emphasizing her words with her actions, she reached down and grabbed Hanna Abbot, pressing both herself and the first-year Hufflepuff against the nearest wall. With amazing efficiency, the rest of the students copied her demonstration.

“Damn Murphy,” the Muggle Studies Professor muttered, sandwiching Mrs. Clarke against the wall as he retreated to the nearest vertical surface.

“What in the name of . . .” Mrs. Clarke sputtered at the unanticipated manhandling.

*Fooooom!*

There was more than one set of wide-open eyes as a football-sized sphere of flames rocketed down the now-open corridor, to splash harmlessly against the T intersection as the students who chose that wall to stand against dove out of the way.

“Mr. Godfrey! Mr. Thomas! That’ll be fifty points from each of your houses and two nights of detention each!” Professor Trelawney called out, looking back the way the missile had come to see most of the first-year Gryffindors and muggleborns had plastered themselves against the walls, except for the two aforementioned boys and a blonde woman dressed in some rose red robes.

“Bad Dean!” admonished the woman, placing her hands on her hips. “Bad, bad Dean! No Bacon! Bad Dean!”

“Woohoo!” Ralph jumped for joy. “It worked! I knew it would!”

“But, but!” Dean sputtered. “That’s not even a spell! You can’t just point your wand and say ‘fireball’ . . .”

*Foooooom!*

Abigail peeled herself off the wall and rushed over to push Dean’s wand hand down toward the ground. After a second, she thought better of it, then yanked the hand upward so it was pointing at the ceiling. “We are going to have to work on that,” she said.

“Does this count as a major incident?” Mrs. Clarke asked.

“Without a doubt,” the Muggle Studies professor confirmed.

“Woah!” Spike said. “Uncontrolled flames causing mayhem, and it wasn’t my fault for once; I love it.”

“How did you?” Mrs. Clarke addressed Professor Trelawney, the muggle’s incredulity thick in the air.

“She’s our Divinations professor,” the Muggle Studies Professor offered.

“Divinations professor?” Mrs. Clarke’s voice exuded disbelief.

“She’s not allowed to participate in the betting pools,” the Muggles Studies Professor said as a way of explanation.

“I see,” Mrs. Clarke noted with an obvious lack of comprehension.

“Mr. Potter.” Professor Trelawney was ignoring the chatter as the students abandoned their walled positions. “I shall be requiring the services of your owl, if you wouldn’t mind calling her for me.”

“Yes professor.” Harry complied. “Hedwig, would you please come here?”

He hadn’t completed the sentence before a snowy owl folded space and landed on his outstretched arm.

“I hate watching them do that!” a random student commented as the onlookers went through the process of unfolding their eyes and minds after witnessing a paradoxical feat.

“Good girl, Hedwig!” Harry cooed as he petted the avian’s breast with his free hand. “I just need you to help Professor Trelawney here.”

“Bark!”

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Two points for Gryffindor.” Professor Trelawney held her own arm out for the bird. “Miss Belle, do try to remember that restraining orders do not currently reach across dimensional boundaries,” she said just before walking off.

“Yes, professor,” Sweetie called after her

“Bad Dean!” the blonde woman said again, bopping the boy roughly on his head to accentuate her point.

“No Magah! Don’t hit Dean!” Sweetie scolded.

After watching the student being knocked to the floor, Mrs. Clarke coolly addressed the woman. “And who are you? How dare you attack a student in such a manner?”

The woman looked back at her with a questioning look.

“Oh boy, this is going to be fun,” the Muggle Studies Professor muttered.

“I asked you for your name,” Mrs. Clarke bared her teeth.

“Magah!”

“Mrs. Clarke, this is going to sound out of line, but I suggest you stop this line of questioning and let these students run along to their next class,” the Muggle Studies professor said.

“I most certainly will not. I have just witnessed an appalling breach of professionalism; this matter needs to be resolved.”

“She is not employed by the school,” the Muggle Studies Professor said. “This is not going to go anywhere near how you think it will be going.”

“I can handle this,” Mrs. Clarke barked. “How dare you hit this child?”

“Hit?” Magah asked.

“Yes, we clearly saw you hit him.”

“Hit Dean?” Magah asked.

“Yes, how dare you?”

“Okay!” Magah bopped Dean on his head again as he was standing up. “Hit Dean!”

“Ow! Stop it, Magah.”

“We should stop this,” Ginny said.

“Hush,” Seamus said, “the comedy practically writes itself.”

Mrs. Clarke stared at the blonde woman in disbelief, shaking slightly with rage. “Get away from those children. I shall see you brought up on charges for your actions.”

“Okay, you need to stop,” the Muggle Studies Professor interjected. “You are not talking to a grown woman; you are addressing a pet.”

“She’s not a . . . aw forget it.” Sweetie said.

“A pet? As in Playboy?” Mrs. Clarke was unimpressed.

“Play . . . no, we are talking more like a cat,” the Muggle Studies Professor answered.

“A cat?”

“Postman Pat, Postman Pat and his black and white cat,” Magah sang happily.

“What was that?” Scootaloo asked. “That’s new.”

With a sigh, the Muggle Studies Professor said. “Magah, here,”

“Magah!”

“Magah here is what you get when you teach a non-sapient unicorn from the nearby forest how to turn into a human.”

“You can’t be serious!” Mrs. Clarke gasped.

“Hit Dean!”

“Ow! Sweetie, make her stop!”

“Bad Magah, stop hitting Dean!”

“Okay! Hit Lavder!”

“Ow!”

“Now look at what you started,” the Muggle Studies professor said.

“Hit vill.”

“Ow!” Neville followed Dean and Lavender to the ground.

“Bad Magah!” Apple Bloom snapped. “Bad, bad Magah! No bacon! Bad Magah!”

“No bacon?” Magah pouted.

“If’n you don’t stop hitting everypony, you’ll have no bacon for a week!” Apple Bloom said.

“No!” Magah stamped a foot. “Eat bacon!”

“She’s from the forest?” Mrs. Clarke asked, feeling out of her depth.

“Yes, it is hard to believe.” the Muggle Studies Professor said. “But she is not the grown woman she appears to be.”

“Is she dangerous like the giant spiders they are planning on hunting?”

“No, she’s dangerous like a two-year-old in the body of an adult,” the Muggle Studies Professor corrected. “Annoying at times, but basically harmless.”

“They’re hunting the acromantulas?” Abigail asked; her grin was perhaps a little too wide.

“They are making plans to halve the population for safety’s sake,” the Muggle Studies Professor said. “Cutie Mark Crusaders Spider Hunters are a no-go.”

“So, Cutie Mark Crusaders Delegators?” Sweetie asked sweetly.

“Yay!”

The Muggle Studies Professor winced at the coordinated cheering. “That’s right; this is being delegated to the most efficient agency. Now hurry; your next class will be starting soon.”

“Yes professor!” the first-years chorused as they hurried off.

“Anyone else think that Professor Trelawney’s hint was just a little too obvious?” Hermione said as the children left the hearing of the adults.

It was a special time of day in the pub. The regulars knew there would be just enough of them to keep the place from looking like a ghost town. It was the best time to get a bite to eat since the cook was not rushed. Only the most observant would have noticed that there was something decidedly out of the ordinary with two regulars who sat in the secluded booth in the back. The double order of chips on the table between them had long ago reached thermal equilibrium, and their strawberry milkshakes had somehow been consumed and then gradually refilled. It hadn't taken long for the waitress to notice; the two had performed the same stunt every day for the past month. However, the two girls always tipped enough to stifle her curiosity.

The routine was interrupted when a woman entered wearing glasses that were practically strong enough to see into the future. Her demeanor was so casual that she would have escaped notice, had it not been for the white owl that maintained a death grip on her shoulder. Despite never having set foot in the establishment before, the woman unerringly navigated the twists and turns to the secluded booth where the girls were people watching as they partook in their drinks.

Feelers watched her approach and smiled warmly. “Hello, good morning; can I help you?”

The woman stopped in front of the booth and winced. “Just a second.” She held up a finger to the two girls before turning to address the owl. “You don’t have to grip so tightly; you’re drawing blood.”

“Bark!”

“Yes, well, the first time apparating is always unsettling.”

“Bark!”

“It was either that or the Knight Bus.”

The owl ruffled her feathers, transforming her appearance into that of a puffball wearing a pouch.

“I thought you’d see my point; now if you wouldn’t mind removing yours from my flesh.”

“Bark.”

“Thank you.” The woman then turned to address one of the girls. “You need to be somewhere to prevent a grave mistake.”

The girl looked at the stranger and asked, “What?”

“Just do what you do best; trust your feelings,” the woman said, placing the owl on the table.

The owl examined her surroundings. “Bark!”

“Yes, cold chips are disgusting,” the woman agreed. She reached out and grabbed the girl’s wrist. With a quick yank a hand was forced into contact with the pouch the owl wore. The patronage was then treated to the sight of a small bag devouring a college-aged girl. “There,” the woman addressed the owl again, “You know where to go.”

“Bark!” The owl launched herself into the air and left the building without using either the doors or windows.

“Did you just kidnap Larva?” Feelers asked, adding another sip to her milkshake glass.

“I only need to borrow her for the day,” the woman said. “I trust it won’t be that much of a hassle for you.”

“I’m strangely okay with that.” Feelers nodded. “I really could use the break.”

The woman picked up the milkshake glass Larva had left behind; she had a curious look on her face as she took an experimental sip. “This is nice,” she commented.

Feelers mumbled, focusing on her own straw.

“It won’t keep as well as you are used to,” the woman warned. “I suggest you start marketing the surplus.”

“That wouldn’t be my decision,” Feelers said after scrutinizing the woman.

“Pass it up the chain then,” the woman said, turning to leave, taking another sip from the glass she carried.

“What was that about?” the waitress asked, taking the spot vacated by the strange woman.

“I have no idea,” Feelers said. “But I get a day off from babysitting Larva; so, I’m good.”

Her new home had some major drawbacks. At first it had seemed too good to be true. A hunting ground of plenty, what more could she ask for? After some exploration she had discovered that it was indeed too good to be true. Her main concern could be summed up in one word, and that word was "snake". It was huge! Several of her heads had been scared to death just by looking at it, forcing her to go through the hassle of gnawing off the defunct appendages. Then, there were the annoying ponies. She was sure that with them, at least, she had worked out an understanding. She didn’t bother them and they didn’t zap her, fair enough. Besides, the really little ones were unbelievably dangerous, and she had the regrown tail to prove it.

All in all, she was content. She may have been more confined than she may have liked, but it was a price worth paying. Thus, she was sunning herself with her lower body soaking in the bog she called home when the bird appeared. On a whole, birds were nothing more than nuisances. Many were too small to be considered prey, and those large enough were too much of a bother to catch. Still, she was starting to get hungry; so, a few of her heads were eyeing the avian that landed on her back. Her heads pondered on whether it was worth the risk of biting herself if she missed when the strangest thing happened; the bird burst into flames.

There was no reason why such a small pest should produce that much fire. It blinded every single one of her heads, and she added that species to her list of creatures to not annoy if she were not already starving. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and found she was no longer in her bog. Rather, she was somewhere completely alien. She was surrounded by creatures with more eyes than usual. She still had them beat in that department, but they were focusing the ones they had on her, seemingly stunned by her presence.

That was just fine, as far as she was concerned. It was time for lunch.

The trio of seventh-year Hufflepuffs smiled and tried not to leer when the exotic new woman strolled up to them with a grin on her face.

“Hello boys,” she purred, her dark hair half-obscuring her eyes, the shade of which marked her as a pony. It was apparent that she had gotten the message that clothes were to be worn at all times, but someone had forgotten to go into the details beyond that. It was obvious that somethings had been skipped, such as informing her that wrapping oneself in a towel and calling it a done deal was not considered normal.

“Hello,” said several distracted voices.

"I was hoping to find a special somepony or two. Do you colts feel up to helping out a lonely heart?"

"Uh huh."

“I have a quick favor to ask of you.” She smiled, though the boys didn’t notice; it was a hand towel.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Each of you take turns putting this in your mouth and will yourself to change,” she said holding out a ring.

Eager to please, a boy snatched up the ring and popped it into his mouth.

“Hmmm, pegasus.” The woman nodded. “Cute too, but not what I'm looking for,” she added as the boy returned to his original form. “Next.”

Another boy took the ring and eyed it in disgust. He pointed his wand at it and intoned, “Scourgify” before placing it gingerly in his mouth.

“Unicorn.” The woman sounded disappointed.

“Where do I get one of these?” the boy asked after standing back up on human feet.

“I borrowed it from Barbie; you’d have to ask her.” The woman handed the ring to a third boy.

This boy shrunk, flapping his leathery wings and blinking back tears from the bright light.

“Finally!” The woman plucked the ring out of his mouth before he could change back. She then drew attention to the owl that had been riding on her shoulder by grabbing the pouch it wore. "Time for your date with destiny." With that, she stuffed the newly-minted thestral into the pouch. “You know where to go,” she told the bird. It hooted and flew into an orthogonal dimension.

“Carry on,” the woman told the two remaining boys before sauntering off.

The two stared after her and it was a full minute before the first asked. “Did she just kidnap Torin?”

“I think so.”

The first thought out loud. “Should we tell a professor?”

“Nah, I’m positive she’s that pony they have patrolling at night,” said his friend. “I’m sure he’ll be back before too long.”

“He’s going to miss his Charms class.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“That was a nice . . .” said the first after a second.

“Towel, yes it was.”

“You think Torin will still be a bachelor when he gets back?”

“Not a chance.”

“You get to tell his girlfriend.”

“Also, not a chance; he can tell her himself.”

The professors were gathered at the edge of the Forbidden Forest as the screams continued to escalate. It had gotten so bad that the forest’s population of centaurs had acted out of character and was now standing within the wards of Hogwarts. Their members looked ruffled, and many had bows at the ready.

“A dragon, you say?” Dumbledore asked casually as he stood next to one of the centaurs.

“Yes.” The centaur known as Bane replied, “A five-headed monstrosity.”

“Where did it come from?” Professor McGonagall wondered out loud.

“We haven’t a clue,” Bane said. “The stars did not foretell of such things, and Mars has been dimmed as of late.”

“A five-headed dragon you report? Truly I have seen its kind and sort.”

Professor Severus Snape scowled at his wife’s words. “Didn’t Applejack say that there was a restraining order?”

“Restraining order?” The Muggle Studies Professor looked at the Potions Professors in shock.

“Yes.” Professor Severus Snape nodded. “The local guards have issued a restraining order protecting the local hydra. It would seem that they have found a way around that particular restriction.”

“They sent their phoenix.” Dumbledore nodded amusedly as Bane gave him a suspicious look. “How creative.”

“Who’s they?” Mrs. Clarke asked

“The first-year Gryffindors, of course.” Dumbledore beamed.

“Oh no!” The Muggle Studies Professor slapped his face into the palm of his hand. “Oh, no no no!”

“What is it?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“They delegated it, just like I told them to. They found a more efficient agency than the ones already being prepped,” the Muggle Studies Professor admitted. “It’s not like we were warned against giving them ideas.”

“So, this is another major incident?” Mrs. Clarke inquired.

“It would appear to be the day for them.” Dumbledore admitted.

“I’ve never heard acromantulas scream before,” Professor Flitwick noted after a particularly blood curdling wail. “I think I’ll go assist Poppy in her attempts to coax another calming potion on Hagrid; he does seem to be burning through them.”

“So,” Professor Sprout mused, “do we take points for this or give them an award for special services to the school?”

“They didn’t put themselves in danger, this time.” Professor McGonagall sighed. “No rules were broken as far as I can tell.”

“I am sure there must be a law against importing a nonindigenous dragon species,” Professor Severus Snape said. “I say a hundred points from each and a month’s detention.”

“Strongly, I must protest. That would not be the best.”

“Does she always?” Mrs. Clarke started, giving the other woman a squinted inspection.

“Yes!” came her answer from several sources.

“I think such a punishment would be much too harsh, Severus.” Dumbledore smiled. “The only pertaining laws refer to transporting dragons across international borders without a license; they do not include interdimensional borders as of yet. And there is no indication that the children intend to keep the beast as a pet. At most, there will be a small fine, since the dragon hasn’t been a nuisance.”

“Tell that to the acromantulas,” Berrytwist challenged.

Suddenly, ear piercing screams rent the air. They were reminiscent of five little girls on helium having a run in with an exceptionally large spider. Then, silence claimed the forest. For ten minutes, the professors watched the tree line in anticipation. Just as one of them was going to suggest that they enter and investigate, several figures came into view. Upon seeing them, Professor McGonagall stalked up to them like an irate cat about to administer a good number of scratches.

“Sybill,” the deputy headmistress growled. “What do you think you are doing?”

“The children needed a responsible adult to accompany them into the forest,” Professor Trelawney said with a shrug.

“How did you manage to use the word 'responsible' in that sentence?” Professor Severus Snape asked as he watched the first-year Gryffindors struggle to carry their writhing prize.”

“The danger was minimal,” Professor Trelawney stated.

“I find that hard to believe, considering that we are talking about a forest teeming with agitated giant spiders,” Professor Sprout said disapprovingly.

“They now have a healthy respect for the newest spell in Mr. Thomas’ repertoire.” Professor Trelawney informed the other faculty members.

“I take it the hydra wasn’t a problem either,” Berrytwist commented as she watched the burdened first years.

“Sweetie sent it back home,” Luna said.

“Y'all did say you only wanted to take out half o’ them.” Apple Bloom spoke up. “We may have gone a little over.”

“Sorry about that,” Neville said for the herd.

“I think we’re in the clear,” Abigail countered. “It’s not like they would all run in the same direction when fleeing from a hydra.”

“That’s a relief.” Lavender huffed in satisfaction as she gave another tug. “I didn’t think of that; I was a little worried there for a bit.”

“Hold that thought for a moment,” Scootaloo said. “We forgot to check for our hydra wrangler cutie marks.”

Several forms shrank into smaller forms in eager anticipation.

“Nope.” Sweetie frowned.

“Nothing here,” Ginny added.

“I didn’t get anything,” Seamus said.

There were several more likeminded responses and no dissention.

“Miss Belle,” Professor McGonagall said sternly. “Where did you obtain your newest accessory? I was under the impression that we have confiscated your arsenal.”

Sweetie looked at the floating battle axe beside her. “I borrowed it from a suit of armor in the castle.” She shrugged.

“I did not think any of them would surrender their weapon willingly.” Professor McGonagall scowled.

“I’ll untie him when I return his axe.”

“Oh well,” Apple Bloom interrupted before points could be lost. “Let’s get this here to tha kitchen then drag Ron out from under tha bed.”

“We got more than just the tip this time.” Harry smiled proudly.

“Don’t worry.” Luna added, “It’ll grow back.”

“Do you think the guards will be mad?” Parvati asked worriedly.

“Nah, we fed their pet,” Ginny said. “They should be thanking us.”

“Besides, we never got within a hundred yards. We had to rig a trap with the axe, but everything worked out,” Neville added.

“I would be more comfortable if none of you get a lawyer’s cutie mark,” Berrytwist said.

“Children, halt and wait while I cry, 'Foul.' To the kitchens Sweetie may not prowl.” With that, a disaster was adverted.

She wasn’t entirely certain what just happened. Deciding to take stock, she did just that; she was back in her bog. The bird at least appeared to be an ally. It had brought her to an abundant food source and then had helped her escape when she heard the voices of the very scary little ponies. The timing had been good, too; she had lost half her tail but that was insignificant compared to her now-full belly. Overall, the experience had been a win; she had gained a good six months’ worth of sustenance even allowing for the raw material that would be needed to regrow her missing appendage.

Also gained was some more healthy respect for the ponies. She would be giving them a wide berth whenever possible, not that that would be a problem in the near future. There was a lot of digesting to be accomplished, leaving her no reason to exit her lair for near on a half year. Even four out of five of her throats were full of spider meat; after all, she only needed the one to breathe properly.

Everything had happened in a frenzy, most of which was spent gorging herself, and she wasn’t positive where she had traveled, but the bird had proven its worth. From now on, she would anticipate its arrival and prepare for a feast when it landed on her. Never would she attempt to make a quick snack of it. There was more potential benefit from letting it live. Besides, there was the distinct possibility that it might explode in one of her mouths if she tried.

It was a happy hydra that heaved herself into her haven for a habitual hibernation.

Fate swung a sledgehammer and connected with the side of chaos’ face.

There had been no hesitation on using the foe’s pieces to advance more orderly plans.

Fate advanced.

Chaos staggered.

Chapter 26: Conniptions, Consciousness and Closure

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Larva was less than happy at having been shoved into the tiny pouch that the owl had worn on its breast. The darkness into which she had been noisily regurgitated was familiar but foreign. The texture of the stone floor and the subtle eddies in the air currents evoked memories of growing up. This had to be one of the caverns that her hive had recently abandoned. However, the chittering of 'lings was eerily absent and the reassurance of the hive mind was faint at best. Larva suppressed a gulp as she finally understood the idiom "you can't go home again".

Her sense of smell had alerted her to the new residents long before her sharp eyes picked up the silhouettes of nigh invisible ponies with leather wings. She was positive that there had been no other occupants when her hive had departed. Apparently, the batponies had found the extensive network of dens and tunnels to be an ideal place to set up a village, staying far away from their sun-loving cousins. Granted, the general pony populous had only recently been reintroduced to their kind, with their emergence coinciding with the return of the lunar princess. Still, Larva found the speed at which her old home had been usurped to be unusually swift.

Larva hadn’t been the only 'ling to be surprised when she was ejected from the owl’s pouch. To say that the batpony mare who let her out was disappointed would be an understatement.

“You’re not a stallion,” the thestral mare noted before Larva had managed to pick herself up off the ground.

“Was I supposed to be?” Larva asked; as an infiltrator, she was perfectly comfortable taking on the form of somepony of the opposite gender.

“We were supposed to be getting some young stallions.” The batpony frowned as she gestured to the cavern packed with expectant mares. “Not that a new mare won’t be welcomed. The fresh blood is invaluable, but intel says it will be harder to convince human mares.”

“I can see the thought process behind that reasoning,” Larva said, dusting herself off. “Hello, I’m Larva.”

“Inky.” The thestral mare held out her hoof for a hoofbump. “I have to say, I can’t get over how agreeable you humans are to a little bit of foalnapping.”

“We’re not actually foalnapping anypony!” a mare in the crowd called out. “We are only temporarily relocating them so that we may propose a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that is both unique and mutually beneficial. The choice to participate or decline as they see fit is to be emphasized so that the agreement cannot be disputed.”

Larva looked at the pony who had spoken. “You have a lawyer’s cutie mark,” she stated.

“Salespony, actually.” The mare shook her head.

Larva sighed and turned back to Inky. “So, you’re kidnapping human stallions?”

“Maybe just a little.” Inky wilted. “But we plan on returning them after we get a commitment.”

“We got cake!” a mare in the crowd piped up. “Stallions are easier to convince when you have cake!”

“Amateurs,” Larva muttered.

“Can you change into a thestral pony?” Inky asked, running her eyes up and down Larva, getting back on subject.

“I can,” Larva admitted. “But it wouldn’t be useful for your purposes; I can’t have thestral foals.”

Inky huffed. “Extra was supposed to be finding humans with thestral forms and sending them our way. It’s our job to convince them that they want a herd comprised mainly of our mares. Not that mares from the other tribes wouldn’t work, that would still get our genes out there and increase the rate of recessive births.”

“I’m starting to understand why I was sent.” Larva mused. “I can help with the matchmaking; it’s kind of my thing.”

“Um.” Inky hesitated. “I think I should warn you that we are kind of skirting the line here. Technically, since we are in the Badlands and not in Equestria, the princesses shouldn’t be a problem, but there is the chance that your human government might get upset.”

Larva snorted. “You are just snatching a guy and showing him potential relationships that will last a lifetime. I do that all of the time. They may complain and shout, but they get over it quick enough. Especially if you have a spot of tea handy. Add that to the cake and you’ll have nothing to worry about. You might want to throw in a few biscuits as well, just to be safe.”

“Tea?”

“Yes, tea. They are Englishmen, after all; you’ll be amazed at what you can get away with if you possess a china tea set and some Earl Grey.”

I need to wake up.

Rainbow Dash’s day had just taken a turn for the surreal. The soap operas that Bella was so fond of had nothing on what she was going through. It was a plot twist that was so unbelievable that it seemed too bizarre to be real. Yet, here she was, her world shattered and rebuilt over the course of one meeting. She had been hoping to visit the school afterward to let Scootaloo know the adoption had been completed; she had even arranged with Professor McGonagall to take her new official daughter out for dinner as a surprise. Well, there had been a surprise; the adoption had been cancelled. The reason was completely unforeseeable. It was unimaginable and unthinkable.

It had brought tears to Rainbow’s eyes. That was happening way too much lately.

Hagrid hadn’t been the one to meet her at the gates of Hogwarts, instead it was the creepy Fich guy . . . Fish . . . the crazy cat guy? Whatever, it didn’t matter. His grumbling the entire time during their walk to the castle would have been annoying if she had been paying attention.

“Lady Black,” Professor McGonagall called out from where she and Scootaloo were standing just outside the front door of the castle. “You’re early.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow said gruffly. “I’m sorry, something happened. I need to see Scootaloo as soon as possible.”

Professor McGonagall studied the rainbow haired woman. “Whatever it is, I hope it isn’t too traumatizing.”

“'Traumatizing' doesn’t begin to cover it.” Rainbow turned to address Scootaloo. “We need to go talk to Mom and Dad.”

“What’s this?” the thestral colt looked at the parchment in his hooves. He wasn’t quite an adult yet but he was on the cusp.

“It’s a consent form,” the woman wearing a towel replied. “You aren’t of age yet; so, you need to have your guardian sign it.”

The colt skimmed the form. “You have a form that allows you to kidnap me for the express purpose of throwing a lot of fillies at me with the hopes that I’ll agree to join a herd?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes, you can use this owl here to send it to your mother for a signature; then, we can get you on your way.”

The colt blinked at the parchment then at the woman. “Are you for real?”

“Of course.”

“Could I get one of those as well?” the colt’s friend, standing next to him, asked. “My father says I need to get my nose out of my books and find a girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry; you are an earth pony,” the woman said. “Not that we have anything against earth ponies, but it is fresh thestral blood that we desperately need.”

“I’m still having a hard time believing this is serious.” The thestral colt waved the parchment. “Besides, the headmaster said we should wait until after graduation before forming herds.”

“This will be under adult supervision.” The woman reassured him. “And you will be helping preserve one of the great pony races without sacrificing your right to take a human filly as one of your wives.”

“Fine, hand me a quill; I’ll send it to my dad.” The thestral colt held out a hoof. “He’s been making noises about me getting close to some girls from Equestria like the Weasley twins did. This’ll get him off my back.”

“That’s not fair, you know,” his friend complained. “My father has been pestering me too, and you had the answer just land in your lap.”

“Luck of the draw, I’m afraid,” said the woman in the towel. “Your friend is only the second thestral colt I’ve found. If he were two months older, he’d already be surrounded by eager fillies.”

“Can I get another go at that ring? Maybe this time I can come out as a thestral.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” The woman shook her head sadly. She was too distracted to notice the student stomping up behind her. Therefore, she didn’t react before she was yanked backward by her hair. Blinking away tears, she found herself staring at an unwavering wand.

“Where’s my Torin?!”

Rainbow Dash was a hardened veteran. Riding in a magical pouch was a little cramped, but it was otherwise not uncomfortable. Exiting, however, tended to be an undignified demonstration of gravity. Armed with that knowledge, she had chosen her parent's house as her destination. Instead of wood or tile, the floor was made of cloud, perfect for a soft landing. For those without flight magic, however, a somewhat harsher second landing needed to be taken into account. Now, all she had to do was hope that her parents could follow the directions that she had sent along with her wand.

Bow Hothoof was treated to a sound he hadn't heard since his retirement from professional sports after he tapped the pouch with the wand held in his wingtip and said, "Ex dimittere."

A mare who shared his coloration tumbled out. Windy Whistles jumped forward to hug her and said, "Rainbow! Honey! It's great to see you!"

“That was some tremendous owl riding!” Bow added, vibrating in place in his excitement.

“Moooom. Dad,” Rainbow said and gave a weak smile. “Hello.”

“Ooo! This is the filly you’re adopting!” Windy said, scooping up an eeping Scootaloo. “She’ll fit right in! Our first grandfilly!”

“Mom.”

“You are going to be the best mother!” Windy continued.

“Mom.”

“And you . . . are going to be the best daughter!” Windy rubbed Scootaloo’s cheek with a hoof. “Our daughter has the best taste in daughters.”

“Mom. We really need to talk.”

“We have so many stories to tell you about Rainbow when she was your age!” Windy told Scootaloo as Bow came over for a closer inspection of the filly.

“Mom, I know what happened to Rainbow Star,” Rainbow Dash said firmly.

It was if cold water were splashed onto the two eldest ponies in the room. They froze, staring at their daughter with looks of pure astonishment on their faces.

Still held in Windy’s forehooves, Scootaloo looked first at Bow then up at Windy. “Who’s Rainbow Star?” she asked, able to talk for the first time since they arrived.

Rainbow sighed before addressing Lodestone. “You may as well head back to Big Mac; we’re going to be a while.” Then, when she could delay no longer, she continued. “Rainbow Star was the mare who bore me; she was Mom and Dad’s herdmate,” she informed Scootaloo.

“Not ‘was’ . . . ‘is’,” Windy corrected with a whisper.

“No, Mom.” Rainbow lowered her own head, closing her eyes in pain. “Was.”

“No,” Windy whispered, searching her daughter’s face. “No,” she repeated, putting Scootaloo down on the floor. “No!” The tears were freely flowing. “NOOOOOO!” Windy wailed fleeing as the hope, she held for years was shattered.

Bow stared at Rainbow, tears welling in his own eyes. “Was?”

Rainbow nodded, leaking water from her own closed eyes.

“I need to go help your mother,” Bow said, amazingly calm.

“Dad,” Rainbow said, not looking up. “I’m sorry.”

Bow hesitated before saying, “We always knew it was a possibility.” With those words he turned to trot after Windy. “Just . . .” He stopped at the doorway. “. . . it never was going to be easy to hear.” He then left to find his wife.

Scootaloo looked around in confusion, tears in her own eyes. “What?” she asked Rainbow. “Why?”

Rainbow took the few steps forward needed before she could wrap Scootaloo in her wings. “You need to hear this, squirt.” She said, “I wish I could spare you the pain, but you need to hear this.”

“I . . . I don’t understand,” Scootaloo said.

“Rainbow Star, my other mother, was a long-distance flyer,” Rainbow said. “She used to make good bits doing deliveries to far off places. One time, when I was very young, she didn’t return. I used to have so many excuses; I even blamed her for abandoning us, but deep down I guess I always knew.”

“But . . . wha?” Scootaloo asked.

“It’s a long story,” Rainbow said. “You’ll have to wait until they come back; I don’t want to repeat it.”

“But . . . but . . .”

“Tell you what. My mom used to make me hot cocoa when I was upset; I’m sure we can find the ingredients while we wait.”

“You’re trying to distract me.” Scootaloo accused.

“Is it working?”

“Will there be marshmallows?”

“I’m sure there will be.”

“Then I’ll let you get away with it just this once.”

Exiting an owl’s pouch was almost never either graceful or dignified. Extra found out that being bound by magical robes only exacerbated the situation. The proof was in the additional bounces added to her landing.

The female student who had accompanied her stood up quickly and brandished her wand at the chamber full of ponies. However, the ponies couldn’t have cared less, as their attention was elsewhere.

“Another stallion!”

“He’s cute!”

“Mine!”

“Like hay he is!”

“mother,” the newly arrived colt managed to get out before he was swarmed.

The female student stood slightly stunned as a sea of ponies flowed around her legs to reach their target.

“Watch those hooves!” Extra cried out. “Some of us can't get off the floor here!”

The female student looked around the cavern and locked her gaze on an unexpected sight. “Torin?” she asked.

“Ruby! Hello, glad you could make it.”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Having a cuppa. Care for some?”

Ruby flicked her wand and the seat next to Torin was vacated causing the mare previously occupying the spot to suddenly be very grateful that she possessed wings. “Is that cake?”

“Yes, it’s very good.” Torin nodded.

Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose as she sat down. “Why are you still a pony?”

“I don’t have the ring anymore.” Torin shrugged.

“If you think I’m sharing you, then you’re about to undergo massive blunt trauma to your head.” Ruby said, picking up a cube of sugar with a conveniently placed pair of tongs.

“Shouldn’t that be ‘if you think I’m sharing you, then you’ve undergone massive blunt trauma to your head’?” Torin corrected.

“No.”

Torin shuddered. “They really aren’t that bad once you get to know them,” he started.

Ruby transfigured the chair on Torin's other side into a large club with studded metal bands, evicting the mare who had been occupying it.

“Woah! Woah!” A redheaded woman seemed to melt out of the shadows as the mare squawked at the loss of her seat.

“This is a private conversation,” Ruby said, eyeing Torin dangerously.

“I know, I know,” Larva said, raising her palms pacifyingly. “Just hear me out.”

Ruby gave her a dirty look.

“First of all.” Larva glanced at the transfigured club. “Can you even lift that thing? It looks heavy.”

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Okay, now, that’s just cheating.”

“I’m a witch.” Ruby reminded her.

“Most girls wouldn't admit that.” Larva nodded. “Though I suppose, a unicorn would have picked it up in their magic as well. Would you mind putting it down, having some tea and maybe calm down a bit?

“You ponies have no right to . . .”

“I’m not a pony,” Larva interrupted. “I am a neutral third party that got dragged into this by a woman wearing thick glasses and her white owl. Right now, I’m just trying to stop you from clubbing your boyfriend or worse, start playing whack-a-pony with an already endangered pony tribe.”

“A woman with thick glasses and a white owl?” Ruby asked

“Yeah, she just sauntered into the pub as if she owned the place.”

“That’s where Professor Trelawny got to with Potter’s owl.” Ruby sighed, remembering the scene from earlier that day. “Okay, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but if the word ‘herd’ enters the conversation at any point, all bets are off.”

“Okay, just hold that thought. I need to go save that other boy and make sure he chooses the right girls for his . . . um . . . gaggle. I’ll be right back.”

“Would it be too much to ask to be untied?!”

“Shut up, you,” Ruby called over her shoulder while pouring some tea. “You’re not forgiven for kidnapping my boyfriend.”

The family had regrouped around the kitchen table with mugs of cocoa in front of everypony before the conversation continued.

Cupping her mug between her hooves, but not taking a sip, Windy broke the silence. “Honey are you sure? It’s been such a long time, and there could have been a mistake.”

“I’m sure, Mom.” Rainbow stared into the depths of her mug. “I went to finish up the paperwork and officially become Scootaloo’s mother. They had just finished the medical tests, you see.” She shuddered and took a deep breath. “Mom, they told me. Scootaloo . . . They said.”

“Take a deep breath.” Bow suggested.

Rainbow did just that. “They said they had found a mare at the edge of the forest. They don’t know what happened, but she was burnt crisp, without a hair on her body, no cutie mark to identify her. She was barely alive, so they took her to the hospital.”

“Sweet Celestia.” Windy clutched her eyes closed as more tears came.

“They said.” Rainbow swallowed trying to get some moisture in her throat. “They said they tried everything to bring her back, but she never improved; she never regained consciousness. She was beyond hope, but she was pregnant. They kept her alive long enough to give birth, nearly the entire gestation of the foal.”

Bow was crying silent tears as Windy leaned into him for comfort.

“The filly . . . the filly was born with stunted wings.” Rainbow continued. “Otherwise, she was in perfect health.”

Scootaloo stiffened at these words and looked worriedly at Rainbow without uttering a sound.

“They.” Rainbow swallowed again as she paused. “The tests came back; I can’t adopt Scootaloo because they now know where her father is, and he didn’t know of her existence before today. I . . . I can’t adopt my own sister.”

I need to wake up

Frantic knocking assaulted the door to her office before it was flung open, and a first-year with an owl on her shoulder rushed in.

“Princess Hope?” Professor Sprout addressed the invader. “What happened?”

“Please, Professor!” the small girl held out her pouch-bearing owl. “You need to go save Torin from Ruby before she does something she’ll regret later.”

“I hope you got that out of your system,” Larva stated as she watched all of the flopping ponies who cluttered the floor of the cavern.

“It’s only the jelly leg hex,” Ruby said. “It lets me blow off some steam without really hurting anyone.”

“I’ve got to pee badly!” cried out one of the batpony mares doing her best imitation of a limp noodle.

“I’d say it affected more than their legs,” Larva observed.

“I may have overpowered the spells a little.”

“You do know it’s not nice to curse someone just because you disagree with what they say.”

“I didn’t curse them. I hexed them,” Ruby corrected.

“There’s a difference?” Larva raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a matter of scale,” Ruby admitted. “Nothing I did is permanent, and nothing was that serious.”

“I saw what you did to Torin.”

“He’ll recover.” Ruby shrugged.

“I really need to pee!”

“I think you might have some anger management issues,” Larva observed.

“It’s been a stressful day,” Ruby said. “Finite. Fine, go to the loo then.”

“Thank You!” the thestral mare vanished into the shadows.

“You’re being stupid.” Larva huffed. “I told you already; those three mares will be perfect matches for you and Torin. Unlike the blue-haired one he was eyeing -- that would have been a nightmare.”

“Are you bloody daft?” Ruby snarled “Why should I put up with the disgrace?”

“Disgrace?” Larva tilted her head. “There's no disgrace in love.”

“Love?” Ruby barked “What would you know about love? You’re more than slightly nutty if you think you have a clue.”

“What would I know about love?” Larva snarled. “I know I will never experience it. I can see it. I can see its potential. I can even taste it, but I will never experience it. It’s my job to see that it thrives, but I am denied its embrace. Don’t you dare tell me I don’t understand love. My entire life revolves around collecting love, forever prohibited from . . .”

"Hang on a tick." Ruby looked at the redheaded woman as understanding dawned. “You’re a changeling.”

“What?” Larva stumbled over the word as her monolog was interrupted.

“You’re a changeling, like Clouded,” Ruby clarified.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Larva suddenly found herself on the defense.

“Does Torin love me?”

“What?” Larva resisted the whiplash. “After what you just did to him, why would you ask that?”

“He’s trading me in for a bunch of cuddly, fanged, wanna be vampires. Of course, I need to know.”

“He’s not trading you in,” Larva said. “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“I’m not going to be just one of his conquests.”

“One of his . . . You do realize you practically have ‘alpha mare’ written across your forehead.”

“I told you already . . .” Ruby was interrupted by a large owl flying into the cavern. She looked first at the bird and then at a certain bound woman. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Extra said. “Look, now that you’ve calmed down a little; I’ve lost the feeling in my legs. I’ll admit that just snatching Torin wasn’t fair to you and I apologize for the distress it caused.”

“Would you stop making it difficult to stay mad at you?” Ruby snarled.

“Please.”

“Okay, okay, Finite.” Ruby relented.

“Thank you! Thank yoaaaaarrrrggghhhhh! Pins and needles! Pins and needles!”

Larva looked at Ruby with a reproachful glare.

“I might have put her knickers in a twist,” Ruby admitted.

“You do realize that there are going to be mares having nightmares of you for the rest of their lives.” Larva said.

“Serves them right.”

“Could you at least allow Torin to rejoin the conversation?”

“Maybe in a few minutes.”

“Are you going to let whoever it is out of the pouch?” Larva asked

“Um, how do these things work again?”

“Place your wand on it and say ‘ex dimittere’,” Larva said.

“Ex dimittere.” Ruby obliged.

There were the customary troublesome sounds before a familiar woman landed unexpectedly gracefully on her feet and looked around. She then turned to Ruby and stated, “I see the hat considered putting you in Gryffindor.”

“Actually, its second choice was Ravenclaw,” Ruby admitted. “Gryffindor was third.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided on Hufflepuff.” Professor Sprout nodded happily. “Now, where is my other wayward badger?”

“If you’re asking about Torin, he’s that pile over there.” Larva pointed.

“Could you not have trusted that he would stay loyal to you?” Professor Sprout asked disapprovingly.

“He was talking about how the thestrals needed his help badly.” Ruby frowned. “He was just seeing how many knickers he could get into.”

“I don’t doubt that of any teenage wizard; however, Professor Snape has informed the staff that the thestrals do have a pressing need. I would advise not judging them overly harshly.”

“I am not in the wrong here.” Ruby huffed. “Ma’am,” she added belatedly.

Professor Spout frowned before pointing her wand at Torin and muttered, “Finite Incantatem.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Torin said, getting to his hooves before turning his angry gaze on Ruby. “I just want to get into their knickers? Is that all you think of me? You don’t think I wouldn’t be moved by their plight to preserve their race? You think this is only about the sex?”

“Tor, you . . .” Ruby started.

“Stuff it, Ruby. You and I are through. I don’t know what you thought you were doing, but I’m not standing for it.” Torin flapped his wings angerly. “There are a lot of knickers laying about and I need to get to the task of getting into them.”

“Tor, you can’t . . .”

“I said ‘stuff it, Ruby’.” Torin pointed a hoof at a thestral mare who had been lying quietly on the ground. “Professor, would you mind counter-hexing Shadow Flow here? I’m not sure where my wand is right now, but I suspect I’ll have it again once I get a ring to change back.”

“Finite Incantatem.”

“And her.”

“Finite Incantatem.”

“Her too.”

“Finite Incantatem.”

“And finally, her.”

“No, not the blue-haired mare,” Larva cut in. “I warned you to stay away from the blue-haired mare.”

“Right, you’re a changeling; can feel love and all that.” Torin sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Larva nodded. “And I never said I was a changeling.”

“Says the woman named Larva,” Torin said sarcastically, helping one of the mares to her feet. “Look I appreciate all the help you tried to provide, but I have some knickers to get into, so if you’ll excuse us.”

“Mr. Walker, you are about to do something that is irreversible,” Professor Sprout said. “I’d suggest a cooling down period before you proceed.”

“I can’t, professor.” Torin said venomously. “Don’t you know I’m a knicker-seeking wizard? It’s in my nature.”

“Tor, don’t you.”

“We’re through, Ruby.” Torin helped another mare to her feet. “Come on, it’s time for you to show me your knickers.”

“What are knickers and what’s with the sudden fascination with them?” Shadow Flow asked.

“Let’s go somewhere private and I’ll explain,” Torin told her.

“Stop ignoring me, Tor!”

“Bye Ruby.” As Torin left the cavern in the company of three mares, his voice trailed off. "And you, Ruby, don't get to call me 'Tor' anymore. From now on, I am Progenitor!" There was a loud slap as wingtips chastised flanks.

“Well, you made him mad.” Professor Sprout said unnecessarily.

“I told you, you were overreacting,” Larva said. “Don’t worry, though, I can see that you still have a chance. He just needs some time to get over his anger.”

“I don’t want him,” Ruby said firmly.

Larva looked at her skeptically as did Professor Sprout.

“I don’t want him,” Ruby repeated. “He can have his herd; I don’t need him.”

“Why won’t you stop being stupid?” Larva asked.

“I don’t need him!”

The words were softly spoken and faded before anyone heard them.

“I need to wake up.”

Chapter 27: Contention, Criticism and Compromise

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Author's Notes:

It should come as a surprise to no one that I have been dragging my heels on this installment. I have been motivated to cram what I had intended to be a more drawn out resolution into far too fewer chapters. Something that should be obvious since I have abandoned the original outline, choosing instead, to focus mainly on the issue at hand. Rest assured, I do realize it isn't going to make everyone happy.

I probably should mention, that the scene with Ruby has once again jumped the tracks. Which is ironic in many ways, especially since she is literally a joke that went out of control, to begin with. I had no plans of including her in the story beyond a quick chuckle over Torin's girlfriend being upset and neither witness wanting to be the one to inform her. Due to a comment by a reader, I expanded on that concept a little and bam, I wrote a tsundere by accident. Sheesh, I don't even have a character page for her in my notes.

The excitement in the Janus Thickey Ward tended to be of the most unpleasant variety. Had it been in the muggle world, it would have been a home to St. Jude. Its residents were afflicted with ailments that were beyond the reach of current magical knowledge. However, much like Pandora’s Box, amid a world of despair, there was still hope. Most recently, it had come in the form of an arrogant, small, brown unicorn with medical knowledge from another world. Hitherto incurable conditions were now foal’s play to the arsenal he brought to bear. Synergies between the two magical worlds and the medicines of the mundane had resulted in remedies that none could have managed separately. Still, there were cases beyond even this revolution.

For the most part, the ward was a waystation to the next world, where the residents had yet to surrender to inevitability.

It therefore came as quite a shock to the young healer when a spectral voice said, “He . . . he . . . hello?”

With wide eyes, she practically jumped out of her own skin as she turned, half expecting to find the ghost of a newly-departed. Instead, she locked gazes with a frail woman who did not have the strength to lift her head from her pillow.

“Hello? Where am I?” came an unsure voice.

Deftly, the healer took out her wand and pointed it at one of the many crystals situated throughout the hospital. With a muttered word, it turned yellow and started blinking. “Lady Longbottom,” she then said, running scans with her wand over the woman as the bed moved the patient into a sitting position. “Can you understand me?”

“Yes . . .” The voice was frail from disuse. “Where are we? Why is Frank sitting there and not moving?”

“Lady Longbottom, you are in St. Mungo’s. I am Trainee Healer Bafort.”

“St. Mungo’s?” Alice Longbottom shuddered as memories returned. “How badly was Frank hurt? Where’s my Neville?”

Ignoring the first question, Healer Bafort responded. “Your son? Last I heard, he was taking classes at Hogwarts. It’s safe to assume that’s where he is now.”

“Hogwarts?” Confusion laced her voice. “He’s not even out of his nappies yet. He wouldn’t be at Hogwarts.”

“You’ve been here for a while,” the healer said, double-checking her readings. “If I remember correctly, since the end of the war.”

“How long was that?” There was panic creeping into her voice. “How long have I been out?”

“Mmmm . . . nine? Ten years? I think,” the healer said, marking down her readings on a clipboard.

“Ten years?” It didn’t come out as the shout that was attempted; it was a stage whisper that broke half way through the first syllable.

“I’m going to have to ask you to remain calm,” the healer stated. “I can’t risk giving you a calming potion, all things considered.”

“Ten years? Ten bloody years?”

The rant was interrupted when the doors to the ward opened and three senior healers strode in with brisk steps. They took one look at the hysterical woman sitting in the bed and pulled their own wands, filling the air with diagnostic spells.

Much data would be collected, and a certain novice healer would be getting remedial training on how to break sensitive news to patients.

As an educator, Professor Minerva McGonagall had scoffed at the notion that ignorance is bliss. She now knew better. With the collapse of the Statute of Secrecy, the ways of the muggle world had come crashing in like a tsunami, sweeping away the status quo. Since that fateful day, she had come to dread the cock’s call and its promise of yet another attempt by the cruel world to drown her in a sea of change. It seemed that just as she had gotten comfortable treading its waters, it would start to rain. Minerva was now positive that if she ever met the individual who coined the phrase ‘when it rains it pours’ she would be indulging in some therapeutic hexing, with prejudice.

It would be safe to say that she wasn’t a happy kitty. The gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster’s office must have sensed this, as it had jumped out of the way without requiring a password, letting the Professors of Transformation, Herbology, and Muggle Studies, along with the visiting inspector, pass without breaking stride.

“Come in, Minerva,” Albus Dumbledore’s voice called out before the entourage reached the door at the top of the moving staircase.

“Albus!” Professor McGonagall was the first through. “We’ve got a problem.”

Rising from his seat behind his impressive desk, Headmaster Dumbledore replied, “It would seem it is the day for problems. What is it this time? Another foreign dragon?”

“Worse,” Professor McGonagall said. “One of the staff, Extra Security, has been sending students to her home with the express intent of persuading them to form herds. She was interrupted in the process of owling her second student.”

Professor Dumbledore blinked before sitting back down. “She has started already?” he asked. “I must say, that didn’t take her very long.”

The other professors in the room blinked at him in return, silent for a second before Professor Sprout demanded, “You knew she was going to do this?”

Professor Dumbledore nodded before pushing a bowl full of sweets forward to offer to his guests. “Lemon drop, anyone?”

“Albus,” Professor McGonagall said with a threatening tone. “You knew this was going to happen and did nothing to prevent it?”

Professor Dumbledore nodded a second time. “Yes, she came to me this morning. She wanted to check the upper years for individuals who change into her breed of pony. Given what Severus has told us about their dire need for new blood, I felt it would do no harm to accede to her request.”

The Muggle Studies Professor spoke up. “You gave her permission to kidnap students?”

“Kidnap? No,” Dumbledore said. “Why would I give her permission to kidnap students?”

Professor McGonagall rubbed her forehead with her right hand. “What exactly did you give her permission to do?”

Popping a lemon drop into his own mouth, Professor Dumbledore said, “I told her that she could test the students for their alternate forms. I recall informing her that she wouldn’t need parental consent for the students that were of age, but she would need it for younger students before taking them from the school grounds.”

“Oh my,” the Muggle Studies Professor said. “Did you perhaps inform her that she would need the permission from the of age students before relocating them?”

“I would think that such a thing was obvious,” Professor Dumbledore said, studying the faces of the people in his office. “Surely, she wouldn’t . . .”

“She did!” Professor Sprout snapped. “She tossed Mr. Walker into an owl’s pouch without so much as a by your leave.”

Albus Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. “I assume that didn’t go over well.”

“His girlfriend wasn’t happy,” Professor McGonagall said. “When she caught up with Mr. Walker, words were exchanged, and ponies were hexed.”

“How unfortunate.” Professor Dumbledore frowned. “I trust that no permanent damage was sustained.”

“A budding relationship was almost certainly cut short,” Professor Sprout snarled accusingly. “Headmaster, you know herds are a considerable commitment. How could you allow such a thing?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Professor Dumbledore asked. “I had, no matter how wrongly, assumed that Ms. Security would be more circumspect. We do not interfere with our students’ relationships, after all.”

“Albus,” Professor McGonagall said. “Can ye not see that there will be people who will think the whole thing is predatory?”

“I suppose it is to some degree,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Though, considering the cultures involved, it is up for discussion as to which side contains the predators and which the prey. May I remind you that marriage contracts are still very much in use. This way, instead of being betrothed to the woman of their parent’s preference, these young men are being introduced to young women of their own age, being given a choice. I would think that this is preferable. Not to mention, given the nature of herds, the aforementioned marriage contracts are not completely ruled out.”

“Marriage contracts are a thing?” asked the inspector, who had been observing quietly.

“Very much so,” the Muggle Studies Professor acknowledged. “It is one of the major sticking points the normal government is contesting with the magical.”

“I’m afraid I will need to put on my Chief Warlock hat for a moment and inquire over the reaction of the ponies concerning the hexing you mentioned.” Professor Dumbledore changed the subject.

“They are reacting amazingly amicably,” Professor Sprout admitted. “They were happy when I removed the hexes my badger inflicted them with.”

“I have sent an owl to the princesses, apprising them of the situation,” Professor McGonagall said. “Hopefully, we can allay any concerns they may have over our treatment of their subjects.”

“Wait a minute.” Said the inspector. “Wasn’t she responding to what she perceived as a kidnapping? I’m sure that will grant some leeway.”

“We can only hope that is the case.” Professor Dumbledore said.

“THEY DIST WHAT!?”

Princess Celestia allowed the briefest of cracks in her unnatural poise as a reaction to her sister’s outburst, flinching at the rage-filled voice. “They foalnapped two young colts from the human’s school for magic.”

“AFTER WE HAST ADMONISHED THEM FOR SUCH BEHAVIOR? THEY WOULD DARE?”

“It would seem that we have underestimated their desperation.” Princess Celestia glanced at the scroll she was floating. “If it is any consolation, they got permission from the second colt’s father, so it wasn’t a foalnapping.”

Princess Luna stared at her older sister with sheer astonishment. “What?”

“They got permission from the colt’s father.” Princess Celestia repeated. “It would seem, he signed a consent form.”

Princess Luna continued to stare. “What is wrong with the humans?”

“Now Luna,” Princess Celestia chided. “We must make allowances for the differences of other creatures, as long as they do not harm our ponies.”

“Yet, it dost not speak well of the humans; they be so callous concerning their stallions.”

“I am starting to get the impression that they would be just fine with it, if ever mare in Canterlot sauntered over and started claiming stallions, willy nilly, just as long as they were back in time for tea.”

“They do make good tea.”

“Yes, they do. Remind me to introduce you to the newest blend I have acquired.”

“And the chocolate covered espresso beans be divine.”

“Luna.”

“We are just saying.”

“Luna.”

“But We digress. What actions must be taken?” Luna relented on the one subject. “Surely, such impudence cannot go unpunished.”

“First of all, even though they haven’t come right out and asked for it, some kind of amends for the injured parties must be offered.”

“We shall make sure that our subjects comply.” Luna said fiercely.

“They have crossed the line.” Princess Celestia nodded firmly. “Banishment of the mares in charge shall be considered.”

“’Tis a just punishment for such a crime.” Luna nodded as an owl flew into the room. “More news.” She inclined her head.

“I think we may have just received our first official letter of condemnation.” Princess Celestia sighed as she used her magic to relieve the owl of its message.

“We are sorrowful that such would be richly deserved.” Luna sighed as well. “Our subjects hast sorely angered us.”

“It is from Professor McGonagall again.” Princess Celestia started reading. “Wha?”

“What news, sister?” Luna prodded.

“Just a second.” Celestia’s eyes flew over the message at least two times before she continued. “She says that their headmaster gave permission for the thestral to test the students for their pony forms and that underage colts could be introduced to willing herds given approval from their guardians. The only real infraction was the older colt being taken without consent and he declines to take offense.”

“What is wrong with these humans?”

“She is also offering apologies that the colt’s fillyfriend took out her anger on the fillies gathered for the introductions.” Princess Celestia blinked her eyes rapidly in bewilderment.

Luna stopped to consider this. “Hast we done some deed that makes them wary of our wrath? Why dost they fear our ire against rightful retribution? Any filly hast the right to defend her claim thusly.”

“Patriarchal society.” Celestia said. “Remember that they are a patriarchal society, Luna.”

“Thou dost say that as if it explains their madness.”

“In a way, I think it does.” Celestia hummed.

“Does thou think their reaction would alter if it were fillies being taken to be herded so unethically?”

“That is a distinct possibility.”

“And what actions are to be taken? Are we to ‘wait and see’ whilst these crimes go unpunished?”

“As galling as it may be, that is exactly what we shall do,” Celestia said. “The main culprits have effectively banished themselves.” She waved the newest parchment as an example. “They have relocated to the badlands, outside our sphere of influence. That doesn’t even take into account that the laws, as they now stand, are in direct opposition to their survival as a race, and thus they may consider them unjust.”

“We would counsel official banishment of the culprits.” Luna protested. “Our first foray of mercy was thrown back in our face.”

Celestia scanned the parchment yet again. “Sister, it is time to stop thinking of this in terms of right and wrong and start thinking in terms of practicality. We are currently faced with an entire race of ponies that has taken the first step to divorce itself from our rule, going so far as to banish themselves for crimes they feel they have no choice but to commit.”

“Their crimes are unforgivable.”

“And yet, it would seem that the humans have already forgiven them.”

“Must you play Centaur’s advocate?”

“Somepony must, and your anger precludes you from that duty,” Celestia said. “I, too, am enraged, but experience has taught me not to just start hoofing out punishments in cases like this. Unless we take action to facilitate their survival, they will only get sneakier, and somepony will get hurt when, not if, it gets out of hoof. This isn’t a herd of entitled mares snatching a stallion; this is an entire race of ponies concerned about extinction.”

“Tia.”

“Don’t ‘Tia’ me. Repercussions are only effective as far as the perpetrators are not willing to suffer through them. The stakes are high enough that the thestrals have already hinted at being willing to suffer anything to ensure the survival of their kind.”

Luna stared balefully at her sister.

The large white alicorn sighed again. “We need to address the underlying cause. Telling somepony ‘Don’t steal the bales of hay from your neighbors even though your foals are starving’ never works out well in the end.”

“And their crimes shall go unanswered?” Luna gritted her teeth.

“This time, their crimes were committed outside our borders.” Celestia reminded her.

“They art our subjects.”

“They won’t be for long if you continue down this line of thought,” Celestia countered.

“Tia.”

“They have gotten a mouthful of hay. They will be back for more and it is our duty to ensure that nopony and nohuman suffer as a result. Punishing them will only make them fight harder.”

Luna snorted. “You would allow them to pillage unwary colts?”

“No, not unwary. Neither of the adult stallions involved are willing to press charges, and the underaged one had permission. We have no injured parties at this point, and I would very much like to keep it that way.” Celestia regarded the floating scroll once again. “Professor McGonagall’s last letter stated that she was just made aware that the muggles have something called ‘artificial insemination’ which may eliminate the ‘instant herd’ problem.”

Luna blinked. “Those words hast no business being put together thusly.”

“Instant herd?” Celestia queried.

“Artificial insemination.”

Celestia chuckled. “Good. Now that you’ve calmed down, it’s time to be a mediator.”

True to their daily routine, Nissy and Bella were sitting on the couch, watching their soaps when the owl arrived.

“Bark!”

“Oh, hello Hedwig.” Nissy said, brandishing her wand. “I don’t see a letter. So, passenger?”

“Bark!” Hedwig nodded.

“Ex dimittere.” Nissy tapped her wand on the owl’s pouch.

The expected sound of retching reverberated as a pony tumbled out of the pouch, landing on all four of her hooves as if she traveled by owl every day.

The two witches looked at the newcomer without recognition.

The pony looked back with half-lidded eyes.

“Hello there,” Nissy ventured.

The pony looked back with half-lidded eyes.

“Are you going to say anything?” Bella asked.

“eek,” said the pony.

The sisters blinked. “Well, that was the calmest scream I have ever encountered,” Cissy admitted.

“Do you have more? Or are you done?” Bella asked.

“I have one more,” the pony said and then there was a pause. “eek.”

“Now that you have that out of your system; would you like some popcorn? The story is getting good,” Nissy said, gesturing toward the telly.

It was at that point that Pinkie stormed into the room. “Is everyone all right? I heard scre . . .” She took in a surprised breath. “Maud!” she called out as she flung her arms around the stock-still pony. “Maud, are you hurt? You were screaming your head off.”

“Pinkie,” said the pony who still hadn’t moved.

“Yes Maud?”

“You’re not a pony,” said Maud.

“Oh, right,” Pinkie said as she shrunk down to her four-hooved form. “It’s so good to see you! What a surprise! I’m so happy! Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”

“Pinkie,” Nissy scolded. “Don’t jump around like that. It isn’t good for the baby.”

“You’re pregnant,” said Maud, still not having moved.

“Yes! Isn’t it great!” Pinkie held a hoof to her mouth as she started giggling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your eyes go that wide before. It isn’t that big of a surprise.”

The Black sisters looked at the half-lidded eyes of Maud before glancing at each other then turned their attention back on the ponies.

“Perhaps introductions are in order.” Nissy ventured.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Pinkie beamed. “This is my big sister Maud Pie. Maud, these two are Narcissa Black and Bellatrix Black.”

“Please to meet you,” Maud said calmly.

“Likewise,” said Nissy.

“Hello,” said Bella.

“Maud,” Pinkie chided, tapping her sister’s shoulder with a hoof. “There’s no reason to be so suspicious. They’re friends. Family actually, they are cousins of my stallion.”

Sirius decided it was time to rush into the room. “Have you seen Pinkie? She just took off like there were cupcakes burning somewhere.”

Gloria stuck her head into the Hufflepuff’s seventh-year’s girls’ dorm room and called out, “Ruby? You in here?”

“Go away, Gloria,” replied Ruby’s tear-filled voice.

“Sorry, I can’t do that,” Gloria called back. “You got an owl. Well, actually, a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Ruby sniffed.

“You know, it just occurred to me that the wards around the school are completely useless at this point,” Gloria said. “Anyone can get in at any time they want, so long as they have someone here willing to let them out of an owl’s pouch.”

“Gloria . . .” Ruby said testily. “Visitor?”

“Right, sorry. I brought you a cute ball of fluff that you can cry your eyes out into.”

“Ball of fluff?” Ruby shuffled off her bed and approached the other girl, reflexively looking down. “You!” she said with venom in her voice.

“Me,” confirmed the pony.

“Me too,” added Gloria.

“Oh, shut up Gloria,” Ruby said before narrowing her eyes at the pony. “What do you want?”

“You need to come fix this,” the pony answered.

“Fix what?”

“Torin Walker is a mess. You know how sensitive stallions can be.”

“What do I care?” Ruby snapped. “You stole him from me.”

“We. Do. Not. Poach. Colts,” the pony snapped back. “You had an argument. You both said hateful things, and you both ran away crying.”

“He broke up with me,” Ruby snarled.

“Stallions are overly emotional, prone to outbursts they don’t mean,” the pony snarled back, baring her fangs. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that?”

“Hold on,” Gloria said. “Just a minute. What is your name?”

The two other females broke off their staring contest long enough to give her a bemused look.

“I mean I can’t just keep on calling you ‘flufflepuff with fangs’ in my head. You have a name, don’t you?”

“Shadow Flow,” the pony said. “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to get my alpha mare to do her job.”

“I’m not your alpha mare,” Ruby snapped.

“Do you seriously think any of us are going to deny you that position?” Shadow Flow countered.

“I don’t want anything to do with a herd,” Ruby snapped.

“Yeah, yeah, we got that,” Shadow Flow said. “Humans are normally monogamous, and the mares have to be eased into the concept of a loving herd. I’ve heard the seminar. Now, can we do the easing later? We’ve got a hysterical stallion to deal with.”

Ruby sputtered, then opened her mouth to say something only to sputter again.

“Flufflepuff with fangs and no sense of tact,” Gloria amended.

“When did my life become a bad romance novel?” Ruby complained.

“Around one o’clock,” Gloria said helpfully.

“Is she doing that on purpose?” Shadow Flow asked.

“Sometimes, I seriously don’t know,” Ruby admitted.

“Well excuse me for interrupting.” Gloria huffed. “You’re welcome to go back to growling at each other.”

“She did kind of kill the mood,” Shadow Flow said.

“Whatever. You can leave now. I told you I’m not joining your herd.”

“You’ve got it backwards. We are trying to join yours . . . if you’ll just give us the chance.”

“I thought I made myself clear in that regard.”

“And we would have backed off to give you some space before approaching you again. It’s the whole ‘trying not to become extinct’ thing. We can’t exactly give up just because you are being culturally selfish.”

“Culturally selfish?”

“I’m not sure exactly. It was part of the seminar, but I kind of zoned out during parts, and I left the pamphlet at home”

Ruby placed two fingers against her temple. “Damn it, you little creeps have got to stop making it so hard to stay mad at you.”

“Flufflepuff with fangs and no sense of tact, yet still caring and lovable.”

“Shut up, Gloria.”

“So can we go to comfort -- I’m going out on a stalactite here -- ‘our’ stallion?” Shadow Flow asked hopefully.

“What exactly do you want from me?” Ruby asked.

“Just the basics for now. Stop our stallion from crying. Hug and make up with everypony. Maybe get to know your mares. Then some more hugging.”

“Her mares?” Gloria looked at Ruby and gasped. “You’ve got minions! How is that fair? I want minions!”

Shadow Flow looked warily at Ruby. “Is she joining the herd too?”

“Is everybody ready?” Twilight asked as she entered the room. “The reservations are in one hour. Oh hello, a visitor?”

“Hello, dear. I see you finally managed to pull your nose out of your book.” Sirius grinned as he greeted his first wife. “Say hello to Pinkie’s sister Maud. She received a letter from their mother letting her know that Pinkie was planning to visit the old homestead; so, she decided to pop over to Ponyville and share the train ride with her. Bon Bon was kind enough to forward her via owl.”

“Be glad Sirius summarized for you,” Bella said. “Otherwise, there are some weird translations going on here.”

“Bella,” Nissy growled.

“What?” Bella shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to manage it, but for the sake of my sanity, I’m filing this entire conversation under ‘Pinkie being Pinkie’.”

“Oookay.” Twilight turned on her heel. “I’ll just go and call the restaurant and let them know we need another seat. Pleased to meet you, Maud. Did you want to go as a pony or do you want a ring to turn human?”

“Hello,” Maud said.

Twilight paused midstep, waiting for an answer to her question.

Everyone waited.

“Pinkie, stop bouncing. Andi told you it’s bad for the baby.”

And waited.

“I can be a human?” Maud asked.

“Yes.” Twilight nodded. “It’s not nearly as disorientating as you might imagine. Oh, I should warn you that humans are omnivores who eat meat.”

“Oh . . .”

. . .

“eek.”

“Maud! Calm down!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Humans don’t eat ponies!”

“Is she panicking?”

“I think she’s panicking.”

“Pinkie or Maud?”

“Take your pick.”

“Do something.”

“Rictusempra,” Nissy intoned, pointing her wand at Maud.

Maud stood there. “heh.”

“Great, she’s gone from screaming her head off to laughing her head off.” Pinkie waved her hooves at her sister in worry.

“Tickling charm?” Twilight asked.

“Yes.” Nissy nodded. “I’m pretty sure that there isn’t anything like terminal calmness, but I didn’t want to put that theory to the test; so, I didn’t use the calming charm.”

“Try something else!” exclaimed Pinkie. “This place is weirding her out!”

“Quick cousin.” Bella suggested. “Hug and kiss her. No woman can resist some serious comfort.”

There was a pause. “Did Bella just give me a complement?” Sirius asked.

“Backhanded as it may be.” Nissy nodded.

“The tickling spell is still working.” Maud said. “…heh.”

Nissy quickly cancelled the spell.

“Are you calm now?” Twilight asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, that was redundant to ridiculous levels.” Bella said.

“Think your ready to go out and eat?”

“No thanks.” Maud said. “I lost my apatite.”

“Hehehe.” Pinkie giggled. “Even scared out of your mind, you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

The humans in the room looked at the pink pony as if… well as if she were Pinkie.

“It’s a good joke.” Pinkie giggled. “Get it? Apatite, appetite. It’s rock humor.”

The humans continued to stare.

“Aw, just forget it, it’s time to end the chapter anyway.” Pinkie pouted

“Pinkie, what are you tal……….

Chapter 28: Lost and Found

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The mid-winter chill was a spring zephyr when compared to the mood of the gathered family. Old snow blanketed the ground and caked on the withers of row upon row, column upon column, of reminders of ponies passed. Four pegasi stood before one such silent witness, and their sorrow stole what little heat had been in the air.

They could have waited for a better day to visit, but at the same time, their visit could not wait. That flock of strong fliers had likely broken more than one speed record in their flight from Cloudsdale to Ponyville. The call of family could not, would not be denied. Respects were due immediately, as were the tears that measured their significance.

The eldest mare in the group took a few steps forward and placed her hoof on the cold stone. She whispered words that were barely audible despite the stillness of the day. “Hello, Rainy.” Her eyes were far from dry.

The lone stallion attending advanced, placing his own forehoof on his wife’s back. “Sorry it took us so long to find you,” he said to the fallen. “We miss you.”

“We love you,” Windy whispered.

Bow started to say something, but his voice hitched.

“You’d be proud of our daughters,” Windy said. “Rainbow is Knight Elemental Loyalty, while Scootaloo and her herd are showing a lot of promise.”

“We just found out about our youngest today,” Bow said. “I should have noticed it before, but she has your eyes.”

“I do?” a voice behind the two asked in awe.

Windy nodded before continuing to address the one beneath the stone. “You’ve given us two wonderful daughters. I just wish you were still here. I wish they could hear your voice. I wish you could hug them.” A small sob escaped her lips. “I wish I could hug you one last time.”

Rainbow stepped forward and placed her forehead on the stone next to Windy’s hoof. “Mom,” she said simply.

Following her lead, Scootaloo placed both of her front hooves on the headstone and addressed it solemnly. “Mum.”

A slight breeze ruffled a dusting of snow into the air while unspoken words went unheard. “My family;, together at last.”

The deputy headmistress of Hogwarts was not known for her displays of emotion, that is, unless you qualified sternness as an emotion. Therefore, more than one set of eyebrows rose when she swept into the Great Hall and headed to the Gryffindor table with a look of elation plastered on her face. It was such an unimaginable situation that it was no wonder that the majority of the students weren’t sure how to handle it, and more than one upper-year started casting detection charms on their food and drink just to be safe.

“Professor?” Apple Bloom asked as the woman bore down on her herd.

“Good news, Miss Bloom.” Professor McGonagall beamed. “Unbelievably good news. Mr. Longbottom, you must accompany me immediately.”

“M . . . m . . . me?” Neville stuttered.

“Yes, Mr. Longbottom. You.” Professor McGonagall smiled down at her lion cub.

“Can he wait until after supper?” Sweetie spoke up. “We’re having hydra tail, and that’s not something you have every week.”

“I dare say he’d rather come with me,” Professor McGonagall said. “Some things are more important than a full belly.”

“Yer actin’ funny, Professor.” Apple Bloom scrunched her nose. “But in tha ‘Ah’ve got a surprise Ah can’t wait ta show you’ kind of way.”

“Very astute Miss Bloom.” Professor McGonagall gave her an absent nod. “I must insist that it isn’t my place to spoil the surprise.”

“Ah kin respect that.” Apple Bloom smiled with her own nod. “Abagail? Lavender? Y'all want to go with and keep an eye on him?”

“Sure,” both girls chirped, starting to stand.

“Not this time.” Professor McGonagall waved them back into their seats. “This is for Mr. Longbottom alone.”

“I don’t mind,” Neville said. “They can come.”

Professor McGonagall gave the first-years a pensive look. “You do need to learn to trust my judgement.” She then addressed Apple Bloom directly. “This time I am refusing your request to accompany your herdmate. Know that I do so without malice or ill intent.”

“Ah don’t like it, but yes ma’am,” Apple Bloom responded.

“Now that we have that out of the way, come along, Mr. Longbottom; don’t dawdle.” With those words, the professor preceded the shy youth from the room.

A small boy exited the green flames, stumbling only slightly as he took a few steps forward to steady himself. “Hello Aunt Emma,” he said cheerfully when he noticed the woman waiting on his arrival.

“Hello Hector.” Emma Granger smiled a greeting to her nephew. “I see you have gotten the measure of the floo.”

“Hermione made me learn really quickly.” Hector grimaced as the flames turned green and a woman belly flopped onto the floor. “Mum still needs practice, though,” the boy added.

“I swear, if it weren’t for the speed of travel, I’d never do that again.” The woman on the floor groaned.

“Hello, Grace,” Emma said. “I see you’re living up to your name.”

“Laugh it up, Emma,” Grace said, pulling herself off the ground. “I’m sure you didn’t face plant the first time you tried.”

“First time I tried, I opted for pony form, hoping that the extra legs would compensate for the lack of experience,” Emma admitted.

“How’d that work for you?” Grace asked.

“You can face plant with four legs just as easily as with two,” Emma said. “That, and floo powder doesn’t taste very appetizing. So, I suggest you don’t try until you’ve mastered levitation.”

“I’m not exactly turning into a unicorn every day,” Grace said. “I haven’t had hooves since you lent me your necklace that one time.”

“Well,” Emma said thoughtfully. “We will just have to give you and Hector our rings, then. Neither Dan nor I need them anymore.”

“You don’t need them?”

“Apparently, it is a skill you can perfect with repeated use,” Emma said. “On that note, we need to get you a wand as well.”

“I’m not a witch.” Grace protested.

“You just used the floo without your son holding your hand,” Emma countered. “I think you shall be joining us for our tutoring at Grimmauld Place.”

“You think I can use magic just like that?” Grace asked skeptically.

“I’m almost positive that the necklaces are what granted Dan and myself the ability. That or being turned into unicorns unblocked something,” Emma confided. “They seem much more brute force than the rings, which not everyone can use. What’s more, Twilight has found that she cannot prime people on our world; they must be soaking in the excess magic of her world.”

“Prime people?”

“She has compared it to adding some water to a pump and giving it a few good strokes.” Emma shrugged. “Short answer, it doesn’t work here on Earth.”

“But I’ve never been to her world.” Grace reminded her sister-in-law.

“Thus, why I say the necklaces use a more brute force approach.”

“Wait a sec.” Grace had a thought. “Didn’t you say you were having your tutoring here, at your house?”

“Originally, we were.” Emma grimaced. “However, our tutor found a well-paying job and didn’t want to pass on the opportunity. Narcissa has been instructing us and a few others in the evenings. Convenient, since she’s only a floo ride away.”

“Once again, you threaten me with the floo.”

“Can I go to the lessons too?” Hector asked hopefully.

“I’m afraid not; it is for adults only,” Emma said, turning an apologetic smile on her nephew. “Don’t forget, you are going to school next year.”

“I wouldn’t be a bother.” Hector stuck out his lower lip.

“Teaching someone who has finished their schooling is a wholly different experience than teaching someone your age,” Emma said soothingly. “It wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for you.”

“I suppose I could find a babysitter for him on those nights. I can fit that in my budget since you and Dan have set me up with a stipend from the Lestrange estate,” Grace said to Emma. “I still can’t believe you are doing that.”

Emma shrugged. “You saw the vault; that money just literally fell into our laps.”

“It is still your money,” Grace said.

“It is more than we would spend in a lifetime, unless we suddenly develop lavish tastes.” Emma shrugged. “And you are family.”

Grace huffed. “This is me stopping my complaining over receiving a lifestyle-changing amount of money; freely given with no strings attached.”

Emma laughed. “Come on, then, Dan will be back soon. Then we’ll floo over and join the others before heading to the restaurant.”

“Again, with the floo.” Grace groaned

“Don’t feel so bad,” Emma said. “Poor Hector is going to have to ride an owl to get to the sitter I have lined up for him tonight.” She pursed her lips. “In fact, let me go get my ring for him now.”

The reunion was both heartwarming and bittersweet. The air itself was saturated with raw emotions as the old woman watched her grandson hug her daughter-in-law with a river of tears streaming from his eyes.

The patient’s eyes were no drier as she stroked her son’s hair and cooed. “Neville. My sweet Neville. You’ve grown so very, very much.”

“Mum.” Neville sobbed into her bosom. “You’re talking. You’re awake.”

“I’m here now.” Alice Longbottom sobbed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, but I’m here now. And I am never leaving you again.”

“Mum.” Neville strained not to hug his mother tighter, as the healers had warned him not to be too rough on her.

“Hush.” Alice continued to stroke his hair. “I’m here now.” Somehow, from the corner of her eye, she caught the sight of something tiny falling from the ceiling. Reflexively, she looked up for the source and found another set of tear-filled eyes. “What are those?” she asked as loudly as her disused voice allowed.

Her own eyes far from tear-free, Augusta followed her gaze and said. “You were supposed to wait at the school. You were told this was a family matter.” Though her words were sharp, her tone was far from it.

“Sorry, but whenever you bring Neville back, he’s always sad,” said the voice of a boy.

“Harry?” Neville said, his face still buried in Alice’s chest. “This is my mother; come down and say hello.”

There was a rustling of wings before Neville felt a weight on his shoulder. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Longbottom.”

“Hello, Harry,” Alice said in a bemused voice as she brushed tears out of her eyes with one hand. She gave a hiccupping laugh/sob before continuing. “This is rather unexpected. Neville, dear, are you going to invite your other friend down as well?”

“Who all did you bring with you?” Neville asked, still not letting go of his mother.

“Um, would you believe me if I told you, it was just me and Parvati?”

“Parvati is the crying little horse on the ceiling, I take it?” Alice asked. She used her free arm to gesture for the little blue thing to join in on the hug.

“I’m sorry,” Parvati said as she blearily glided down. “We were just going to watch and make sure Neville was okay. I didn’t mean to distract you with my tears.”

“It’s okay,” Neville said. “I’m glad you’re here. I want you to meet my mother.” He paused for a second. “So, who else came?”

“Er . . . no one?” Parvati said touching down on Neville’s other shoulder.

Neville sighed. “Someone, please check under the bed.”

“No!” Lavender called out. “I mean, there’s no one down here except for us dust bunnies.”

“Did you bring your entire group?” Augusta asked. “We were trying to keep the surprises to a minimum for the sake of my daughter-in-law. A dozen little ponies is more stress than she can handle.”

“We just brought enough to get Neville out if things got wonky,” Harry said.

“You should have just sent Luna and Abigail,” Neville chuckled. “The rest of us are pants at staying out of sight.”

“That’s what I said,” stated a shadow in the corner. “. . . dang it!”

“Miss Lovegood, are you here as well?” Augusta called out.

“No,” Harry said. “It’s just the four of us. We wanted to keep a low profile.”

“On the ceiling?” Alice asked. “You wanted to keep a low profile by sitting on the ceiling?”

“You weren’t supposed to look up.” Parvati sniffed. “Nobody ever looks up.”

“Would have worked too, if Parvati hadn’t started crying,” said the shadow.

“Look at it this way,” said the pony under the bed. “At least we didn’t send Hermione.”

“She is banned from all stealth missions,” Neville stated, “unless she can get her hands on shoe polish.”

Augusta cleared her throat. “While your concerns for my grandson are to be lauded, I am of the opinion that if this room is pony-free in the next minute, your headmistress need not know of this infraction.”

There was a scrabble of hooves; then, the room was as pony-free as the eldest Longbottom had requested.

“Did they just apparate through the St. Mungo’s wards?” Alice asked.

“No,” Augusta said. “Young Neville’s friends can’t apparate yet, but, as I understand it, they have two methods that completely bypass wards when they wish.”

“There are two methods to bypass wards?” Alice asked.

Augusta sighed. “Three that I know of.”

Horror rose in Alice’s eyes.

“You needn’t worry.” Augusta said in a hurry. “Phoenixes are still quite rare as is what Miss Patil does, and I don’t think Lord Discord is sharing his method with anyone who is not family.”

Neville blinked and looked at his grandmother speculatively.

“There is so much I need to catch up on.” Alice sighed.

Big Mac and Tender Shoot were walking down the street in Ponyville when the owl arrived. With an inaudible whisper of feathers, it landed on Tender Shoot's back and started hooting softly at the large red stallion.

“Is that your owl?” Tender Shoot asked, looking over his withers. “Seems too small to be yours.”

“Nope.” Big Mac took a step closer to examine the owl.

“You reckon Potent Potpourri found herself another ride?” Tender Shoot snickered.

Big Mac paused with a hoof half-outstretched toward the owl’s pouch and gave it a contemplative look before sighing and finishing the motion. “Ex dimittere.”

The bag let out the expected sounds as it regurgitated a small figure that plopped onto the ground.

Tender Shoot looked down at the passenger and dryly said, “It’s a colt.”

The colt looked back up at the two stallions with wide eyes and a half-opened mouth.

Suddenly, Big Mac brought his foreleg up and performed a facehoof.

“Um?” Tender Shoot asked.

“Forgot,” Big Mac stated.

“You forgot.” Tender Shoot said skeptically. “How did you forget?”

“Granny.”

Tender Shoot rolled that around in his head for a few seconds before saying. “Let me guess. Your Granny volun . . .-told you to foalsit and you forgot about it until this very moment.”

“Eeyup.”

“You know.” Tender Shoot rubbed his chin with his hoof. “Now that both of your younger sisters have joined herds, she’s not going to be pulling her bucks to see you likewise committed.” He then looked at the colt again. “This is right out of the mare’s playbook on how to get your grandson to start thinking about joining one.”

“H . . . hello,” the colt stammered. “Um, are you the one who’s watching me tonight?”

“He is.” Tender Shoot pointed his hoof at the still-stunned Big Mac. “Though, I might stick around for a laugh or two. My name’s Tender Shoot and the big guy is Big Mac.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Hector.” Before he could quash the thought, he added, "Do you have sesame seed buns?"

“Hey, colt.” Tender Shoot nodded while Big Mac spoke.

“Hiya.”

“Right, so Big Mac have you foalsat before?” Tender Shoot shot the bigger stallion a questioning glance.

“Apple Bloom.”

“Oh . . . yeah . . . that would count.” Tender Shoot nodded. “Then I guess I don’t need to tell you that the first thing you should do is find out if the foal has eaten or not.”

Big Mac looked at Hector, the question clear in his eyes.

“Mum sent me with money so we can treat ourselves to pizza or something,” Hector said proudly before looking around at the semi-busy street and noting all of the ponies giving the three males curious looks. “I’m thinking that pounds might not work around here, though.”

“There you go,” Tender Shoot said. “You now have a plan of action. If he’s being picked up later tonight; stuff as much sugar down his throat as you can. If he’s being picked up in the morning, take him to the Hay Burger but don’t forget to buy five pounds of taffy to send him home with.”

Big Mac gave the other stallion a sideways glance. “Nope.”

“It’s a plan.” Tender Shoot defended his suggestion. “Trust me, Granny won’t pull this on you again anytime soon if you go with it.”

Big Mac sighed before reaching down and picking Hector up by the scruff of his neck. “Sugarcube,” he said around his passenger.

“Is this a thing?” Hector asked as he hung there. “I think I’d prefer it if this weren’t a thing.”

“Good idea,” Tender Shoot said as he followed after Big Mac. “There are a lot of sugary items at Sugarcube Corner.”

Big Mac sighed.

There was a flash of light and the lobby of the restaurant gained more occupants.

“I have to admit, that is much more enjoyable than side along,” Nissy said.

“Safer, too,” Pinky added. “You don’t have to worry about leaving pieces of yourself behind.”

“Apparition is . . . a thing.” Twilight shuddered. “It has its uses and is a reasonably reliable method of travel, once mastered. However, if you have the raw power needed, once you learn to teleport properly, you’ll never go back.”

“Black Party.” The hostess had approached while they had been catching their bearings.

“Yes, that’s us,” Sirius acknowledged.

“I see that your rainbow-haired lady is missing.” The hostess was doing a headcount. “Shall we expect her to arrive later?”

“No,” Twilight said. “She is kind of the reason we are here tonight. She asked me to make reservations, and I thought she meant for all of us not just her and Scootaloo so I did but it turns out that she just wanted to take . . .”

“I don’t think she wants your life story.” Bella broke in. “No, Rainbow won’t be joining us tonight.”

“I’m not sure which of the two I should scold for that,” Nissy muttered.

“Just let it go.” Emma patted Nissy on the shoulder.

“This is where we had our first date,” Pinkie told her sister Maud, who had changed her mind and was currently experiencing human form for the first time. “Just wait until you get to try the flaming deserts.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Is she all right?” the hostess eyed the woman who was standing stiff as a board and clutching the decorative banister.

“It’s her first time on two legs,” Remus stated. “It was kind of a last-minute thing.”

“Yes, well, that’s solid brass,” the hostess noted.

“So, it is,” Emma agreed.

“She’s embedding her handprint into it,” the hostess added.

“I’ll fix it once we give her a minute to acclimate.” Sirius smiled.

“We may have underestimated the amount of stress she’s undergone,” Emma added.

“I’ve never teleported before,” Maud deadpanned.

“I think she’s in shock,” the hostess said worriedly.

“No,” Bella said. “As far as we can tell, she’s always like that.”

“Let us back up a second.” Nissy said. “We are foregoing the flaming deserts tonight; are we not?”

“Aw,” Pinkie pouted. “I wanted to show Maud; she’d find it exciting.”

“That is exactly what I’m worried about.” Nissy said.

Pinkie turned to Maude with concern. "Don't worry, Maude. My second favorite dessert here is the bombe."

Mrs. Cake looked up from the counter when yet another customer entered her crowded place of business. “Big Mac. Tender Shoot. Welcome, I see you have somepony new to introduce us to.”

“Eeeyup.”

“We need to feed him.” Tender Shoot spoke up. “What would you suggest?”

“One ‘bachelor somehow stuck foalsitting’ special coming right up,” Mrs. Cake said with a smile.

“That’s a thing?” Tender Shoot raised an eyebrow at that.

“Of course.” Mrs. Cake smiled. “At least once a week.”

Meanwhile, Big Mac was scanning the room and was dismayed to see all the tables and booths were occupied. On his second sweep, a mare sitting at a booth with two foals waved at him, gesturing at the empty booth across from herself.

Grunting, he accepted the obvious invitation. He trotted over and deposited Hector onto the empty bench, but didn’t bother attempting to squeeze himself into the seat next to him, opting to stand instead.

“That was an unreal way of getting around.” Hector pouted, placing his forehooves on the table so he could look across at the two foals staring back at him.

“Eh,” Crisp Lick said. “Mom does it all the time. Though I suppose your sitter is big enough to make the view interesting.”

“Just wait until your first Fluffy ride,” Somnuther commented dryly.

Hector’s head snapped as he focused on the other colt. “What happened to your . . .”

“Magical accident,” Somnuther replied before the question was finished.

“Ah.” Hector smiled. “That’s wicked.”

“You should hear his evil laughter,” Crisp Lick said.

“I’ve seen you two around town.” Pleasant Thoughts said as Tender Shoot slid into the booth next to Hector. “Acquired a colt, I see.”

“Eeyup.”

“Well, if the experience traumatizes you, my door is always open.” Pleasant Thoughts said.

Big Mac sighed.

“You're new around here.” Crisp Lick tilted her head at Hector. “I haven’t seen you at school.”

“My mum is going to an expensive restaurant with my aunt and uncle.” Hector shrugged. “Children weren’t allowed; so, they shipped me off for the night.” He ended with a frown.

“That’s rough.” Crisp Lick sent a sympathetic look Hector’s way.

“Nah,” Hector shook his head. “We would have just sat around the house otherwise. This way, I get to meet ponies.”

“That’s a very mature way of looking at it,” Pleasant Thoughts told the colt.

“The guys at school are going to be so jealous when I tell them about my weekend.” Hector smiled.

“If you’re lucky, you’ll meet a human.” Crisp Lick said. “They are all over, and you can see one occasionally. Then, you’ll really have something to brag about.”

Pleasant Thoughts nudged Crisp Lick. “While it is good you’re getting along, don’t you think you should introduce yourself?”

“Sorry.” Crisp Lick’s ears went back slightly. “Hi, my name is Crisp Lick, this here is my new brother, Somnuther.”

“Hiya, my name is Hector Lavin. Pleased to meet you.”

“And I am Pleasant Thoughts.”

“Tender Shoot.” The stallion next to Hector raised a hoof. “And the quiet one is Big Mac.”

“Hello.”

“Anyways, humans are boring,” Hector said. “Ponies are much more interesting.”

“Humans are anything but boring,” Crisp Lick countered. “They are big and scary and the mares around here won’t stop talking about them. Though they do tend to say weird things when they realize you are listening to them.”

“Weird things?” Hector tilted his head.

“They get all excited about their stallions weeding their garden. Like there’s not snow on the ground or anything,” Crisp Lick said.

“Next subject!” Pleasant Thoughts interjected.

“And that’s why we use euphemisms.” Tender Shoot blushed.

“You can almost hear the wink wink, nudge nudge.” Pleasant Thoughts sighed out loud.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Crisp Lick huffed. “Weeding the garden isn’t that hard of a chore and some of the weeds are rather tasty.”

“I can agree with that. Ooof!” Tender Shoot said just before Big Mac prodded him in the side with a hoof.

“Don’t worry,” Hector told Crisp Lick. “We can figure it out together. I’ll come over and help you weed your garden when the snow goes away.”

The three adults gave the colt dazed looks.

“What?” Hector demanded under the barrage.

“They’re just watching you unwittingly dig a hole for yourself,” Somnuther said.

“I thought I said next subject!” Pleasant Thoughts squeaked. “Somnuther, do you know what that means?”

“Didn’t you just say ‘next subject’?” Somnuther asked.

Pleasant Thoughts gave him a dirty look.

“I absolutely have no idea what you are talking about,” Somnuther plainly stated. "Besides, he'll want to sow wild oats."

Smiling, Crisp Lick said, "That sounds yummy."

“He’s a terrible liar. Isn’t he?” Tender Shoot noted in return.

“Change the subject. Change the subject. Change the subject,” Pleasant Thoughts chanted.

“What subject is that, Dearie?” Mrs. Cake asked sliding up with a platter on her back.

“Hector is going to weed my garden,” Crisp Lick said proudly.

Mrs. Cakes eyes went wide.

“No, no,” Tender Shoot hastily said. “When she says weed her garden, she means weed her garden. Unfortunately, she overheard some older mares talking about weeding their gardens which lead to a conversation about weeding gardens which only sounds like weeding gardens but the foals really are talking about weeding gardens.”

“Oh, I see. That is awkward,” Mrs. Cake said a little too quickly. “So . . . who wants hayloaf and gravy?” She started transferring three plates in front of the foals. “I’ve also got milkshakes.”

“What is this gravy made of?” Hector asked, eyeing his plate suspiciously.

“Lima beans,” Mrs. Cake said proudly.

“Is that a thing?” Hector asked in disbelief.

“I’ve also got some made from Brussels sprouts, if you’d prefer.”

“Lima beans it is then.” Hector said, looking for a fork.

“Wise choice,” Somnuther said before taking a bite from his own plate, sans silverware.

“Lima Beans are yummy,” Crisp Lick stated before taking a bite of her own.

Deciding he was in Rome, Hector mimicked her. “Mmmm… that’s not bad,” he said around his mouthful.

“You got your foals the bachelor special?” Tender Shoot raised an eyebrow at Pleasant Thoughts.

“Being a single mother and professional sometimes means I cannot cook a proper meal every day.” Pleasant Thoughts frowned. “The session with Vanilla Cream went over long, but at least she can look at the Twinkie without shuddering now.”

“Twinkie?” Tender Shoot prodded as the foals attacked their meals.

“Something Cleft Ray got for me.” Pleasant Thoughts said. “Her stallion, who is a human, has boxes of them laying around the house and she swears they aren’t going stale no matter how much they sit around.”

“So… zombie cake?” Tender Shoot asked.

“No, I suspect a zombie cake would be rotting to some degree.” Pleasant Thoughts said. “I’ve had it on a plate for a week now and it looks just as moist and yummy as the day I took it out of the package. It’s almost the opposite of zombie cake.”

“So . . . cake for somepony who hates zombies then.” Tender Shoot suggested.

“I guess.”

“Is zombie cake a thing?” Hector asked.

“I sincerely hope not.” Pleasant Thoughts stated with a shudder. “Don’t get me started on the tentacles.”

Returning to wakefulness, Remus Lupin smacked his parched lips. A biologist would have noted this was the result of the chemical suppression of antidiuretic hormone. A normal wizard like Remus, however, was not interested in technicalities; he needed a hangover potion immediately, if not sooner. As more awareness returned, he noted that he had, per usual, foregone pajamas. The woman he was spooning had done the same. A weight and the feel of skin on his back prompted him to look over his shoulder.

When his eyes finally focused, he found himself looking at a familiar face; it was Nissy, who apparently was also coming out of a stupor of her own. The two shared a look before looking down to identify the spoon at the bottom of the stack. It was Grace.

Remus smacked his lips again as Nissy shuddered under her own hangover symptoms. “Are we a herd?” he asked weakly.

Nissy shook her head before regretting it. “No, none of us were born ponies. We should be fine.”

“I was born a pony.” Maud said.

Nissy and Remus lifted their heads to look over Nissy’s back. On an adjacent cushion, they found that Bella was sleeping with a smile on her face as she used a hand-on approach to confirm that Maud’s average proportions were no illusion. The two started to wonder if one of the Pie sisters had been adopted.

Remus laid his head back on the pillow while Nissy rested hers back on his shoulder.

“We need to go check the tapestry.” Nissy muttered.

“Must you be a stick in the mud?” asked Remus.

Chapter 29: Just a Morning Talk

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Black was dominant in this domain despite the preponderance of light. Regardless of his loyalty to the family, Kreacher was not happy with the departure from the house's traditions. From time immemorial, this was a family of movers and shakers, using their money and prestige as weapons to strike fear into those who dared oppose them. He had no doubt that the son would never come close to approaching the greatness of his forebears, and the elder daughters were hopelessly destined for mediocrity. The youngest, however, had shown great promise. The ambition and cunning she had displayed before her unjust incarceration had marked her as the heir apparent to the Black legacy. Now, however, she was content to waste her time in front of that infernal muggle device.

Kreacher despaired that the name Black was no longer spoken in hushed tones, lest the clan's wrath be unleashed. Now, however, the name was spoken with tones of reverence. Loath as he was to admit it, much of this new attitude was due to the master's first wife. While she was not a proper pureblood, she was undeniably powerful; Kreacher had nearly blinded himself when he had stolen a peek at the mote of magic that had leaked from her disguise.

Despite the unnatural nature of the relationship, the wife had proven herself to be a capable broodmare, carrying within her the promise of a new generation. However, she was no mere plaything, subservient to the master. It was sometimes difficult to tell whether or not she might be the true master of the house; given the passion and energy she threw into her work and the wide berth the others gave her when she was in that mode. In fact, Kreacher had found himself compelled to cast a sleeping charm on her more than once to ensure that she did not exhaust herself to the point of endangering her unborn child.

Kreacher did not like the direction in which the Black family was moving. However, he was still loyal to it. He would do everything he could to ensure that the next generation would return to its roots. Failing that, there were sure to be other generations. It was a matter of time.

Right now, though, the most important thing Kreacher had to manage was seeing that the two pregnant wives were properly fed. To that end, he was preparing a hearty breakfast even as the pink-haired wife bounced around his kitchen, preparing pastries of some kind. This morning, she was especially bouncy as her sister had come for a visit. As of late, there had been too many pastries in everyone’s diet if Kreacher was any judge on the matter.

The old elf was in the middle of frying up some eggs and bacon when the owl arrived. That white one was as likely to be carrying passengers as anything else.

Pinkie bounced past the stove, casually grabbing a rasher of bacon from the sizzling skillet before hopping over to stand before the chair on which the owl had roosted.

“Mistress must not bounce.” Kreacher tried for the umpteenth time. “She has been told it is not good for the child, she has.”

“Right, right, sorry.” Pinkie held her stolen prize out for the bird. “I’m just so excited that Maud is here. I haven’t seen her in like forever.”

“Mistress must take care of herself,” Kreacher scolded.

“I will.” Pinkie produced her wand from seemingly nowhere and placed it on the owl’s pouch. “Ex dimittere.” To be fair, Kreacher wasn’t sure if the woman actually needed that wand. To be even fairer, there were a lot of things with Mistress Pinkie about which Kreacher was not sure. All he knew for certain was that he dared not be on the wrong side of whatever power she truly wielded.

Kreacher wanted to cover his ears to block out the sounds coming from the pouch as the probable count of those needing breakfast increased.

“Thanks, Pinkie,” the final wife said. “Where is everyone? We’ve got some news to share.” She gestured at the three ponies who had accompanied her, one of which was Mistress Scootaloo.

“They’ll be down soon,” Pinkie said cheerfully. “Go wait at the table.” She pulled several vials out of her hair. “Here, they’ll be wanting these.”

Mistress Rainbow looked at the vials just handed to her. “Hangover potions? I take it you had an exciting night.”

“Well, Twilight and I couldn’t join in all the fun. But we managed to levitate everypony else to their beds.”

“Did you get everyone in the proper place?” Scootaloo asked.

“Bella suggested that we just put all the extras in Remus' and Nissy’s bed. Save Kreacher the trouble of having to clean up guestrooms.” Pinkie admitted, “I wanted Maud in ours, but Twilight vetoed that idea. Something about promising Sirius not to put new mares there without consulting him first, when he’s sober.”

“Who’s Maud?” Rainbow asked.

“She’s just the bestest of best sisters.” Pinkie beamed. “You’re going to love her.”

“If she’s anything like you, we won’t be able to help it,” Scootaloo said.

Bow cleared his throat, even as Windy stood next to him, oddly subdued.

“Oh right,” Rainbow said. “Pinkie, this is my mom and dad. I brought them to spend the day with us. I didn’t want to leave them at home alone; they’ve had a nasty shock.”

“Hello Rainbow’s parents,” Pinkie greeted cheerfully. “Follow Rainbow to the table. You’re in for some non-nasty shocks. Just give it a little time.”

“On second thought, this might not be my brightest idea,” Rainbow said.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” Pinkie berated. “Go sit; breakfast is almost done.”

The four ponies had just found their seats when Twilight wandered into the room with a seriously green Black leaning on her for more than moral support.

“You’re a sight,” Rainbow said bounding out of her chair and offering a vial using a wing. “What have I told you about going out and having fun without me?”

“Things may have gotten out of hand,” Sirius rasped. “Somewhere after the seventh round if I remember correctly.”

Pinkie said, "Someone's a little hoarse."

The master begged. "Please Pinkie, I'm serious."

Twilight smiled at Rainbow. “Puns aside, we’ve got a date with the waitress. With any luck, we’ve found the human mare needed for our herd.”

“We do?” Sirius looked at Twilight in surprise even as he downed the potion Rainbow had given him. “I don’t remember that.”

“Yes.” Twilight beamed. “She has a foal, but I think she’ll fit in nicely.”

“You wouldn’t be the first stallion who has added to his herd after a few ciders,” Bow said from the table.

“Oh, more visitors?” Twilight focused on the new ponies for the first time. “Welcome.”

“This is my mom and dad,” Rainbow piped up. “I figured now was a good time to introduce them to my herd.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Twilight said as Sirius groaned in relief as the potion took effect.

“This is not the first impression I wanted to make,” Sirius said, standing straighter.

“I’ve seen worse.” Bow shrugged. “Rainbow and Scootaloo say you’re awesome; that’s good enough for us.”

“That’s right.” Twilight smiled. “Scootaloo is officially your daughter now. Congratulations!”

“That kind of fell apart spectacularly,” Rainbow said.

“What?” Sirius started. “How?”

“Oh no,” Twilight added. “Whatever went wrong, I’m sure Celestia can help.”

Rainbow waved a dismissive hoof. “Don’t worry; things worked out. I’ll explain when everyone is here.”

“What did we miss?” Andi staggered into the dining room leaning on Ted; or maybe it was the other way around.

Rainbow hopped over to the couple, offering a vial in each wing. “It must have been a really wild night. I’m disappointed that I missed out.”

“You wouldn’t have made it past the fifth round.” Pinkie entered, carrying a tray of breakfast pastries. “They started on the hard stuff after the third.”

“That’s about the point where everything became a blur to me,” Andi admitted, sitting at the table and waving at the unfamiliar ponies and the small one with them. “She hasn’t taken you back to the school yet?” she asked Scootaloo.

“It’s the weekend.” Scootaloo shrugged. “Professor McGonagall won’t mind, too much.”

“Well, we’re glad you’re here.” Ted sat next to his wife. “We can make plans for the day.” He turned to the two new ponies. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Those are my in-laws,” Sirius offered.

“I gathered that from his hair,” Andi said, eyeing the stallion. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you,” Windy said sedately. “Meeting Rainbow’s herd has always been a dream of ours.”

Rainbow looked at her mother worriedly as the final occupants of the house staggered in.

Noting that Bella, Maud and Grace were each wearing one of Nissy’s robes, Sirius gave a wicked grin. “So, are we looking at the house’s newest herd?”

“We haven’t had the courage to go check the tapestry yet,” Nissy admitted as Rainbow flew over and started distributing vials.

“Yay!” Pinkie hopped. “Maud has got a herd. Isn’t that great?”

“Pinkie, keep it down, please.” Remus winced. “At least wait until after the potions kick in.”

“What’s this?” Grace stared bleary-eyed at the vial she held as Nissy, Remus and Bella quickly downed their own.

“Hangover potion.” Rainbow came to hover before her. “Trust me, you want to drink it, despite the taste.”

“You let Maud drink the lot of you under the table.” Twilight commented, “I’d be surprised if you didn’t need two of those.”

“I was just getting started,” Maud said, taking the cork out of her own vial.

“Is she bragging?” Sirius turned a questioning look on Pinkie.

“No,” Pinkie said with a smile.

“Right, no more challenging Maud to drinking contests,” Sirius acknowledged.

“At least she’s loosened up,” Bella said. “I think she has, anyway.”

“Things may have loosened up a little too much,” Nissy said as Remus held out a chair for her.

“Yes,” Remus agreed. “I woke up in a bed full of naked women.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this for a second time in my life,” Ted said. “Are you bragging or looking for pity? Help me out here, because I’m getting mixed signals.”

“You were all wearing your clothes when we dropped you off,” Twilight stated, scrunching her eyebrows together.

“I’ll get started arranging the stipends,” Sirius said enthusiastically, grinning at his oldest remaining friend. “Looks like Lupin is going to end up being a cadet branch of the Blacks.”

“Are things always this exciting in the morning?” Bow asked with a grin of his own.

Remus raised a questioning eyebrow at the new pony as he held a chair out for Grace then one for Maud.

“My in-laws,” Sirius said. “As first impressions go, I’ve pretty much already flubbed it.”

“I could get used to this,” Bella said as Remus held out a final chair for her.

“That may be a distinct possibility,” Nissy said, somewhat puzzled as Bella deflated slightly at those words.

“I told you that you should share,” Pinkie said, plopping onto Sirius’ lap. “Aren’t you glad you did?”

Nissy sighed. “Strangely enough, I am not as upset over it as I thought I would be. The way the three of you share Sirius without jealousy has been eye opening. Still, it would not have been something I would have sought out.”

Remus let out a relieved sigh at this declaration.

“It has to be good for Bella.” Rainbow snatched a pastry from the platter. “Mmrr maa mrrrrr a loving herd. If you know what I mean.” The first part of her sentence may not have been as intelligible as she may have wanted.

Andi sighed and pulled out her wand. She got up and proceeded to wave it over Grace, Maud, Bella, and, almost as an afterthought, Rainbow.

“Well,” she said after retaking her seat. “There is good news and surprising news.”

“Don’t keep us in the dark, dear sister,” Nissy sniped.

“None of them have engaged in relations with a man in the last twenty-four hours,” Andi said.

“You hear that, Sirius?” Rainbow piped up, “We’re behind schedule. We’ll need to pop up to the bedroom after we’re done eating.”

“Which brings us to the second bit of news.” Andi smirked. “Congratulations, Rainbow; you’re pregnant. Sirius, you are three for three now.”

“Woo hoo!” Rainbow raised a hoof in triumph, while the rest of the table applauded and otherwise expressed their approval. “Finally.”

“That’s wonderful, dear!” Windy had regained some of her enthusiasm as she left her seat to grab her eldest daughter in a hug while Bow observed with a proud look on his face. “We’re getting a grandfoal after all.”

“I’m surprised you went this route,” Twilight commented. “You do realize how this is going to make your dream of joining the Wonderbolts that much more difficult.”

“It’s only a delay.” Bow smirked. “Our Rainbow is a shoo-in for the Wonderbolts. They’ll be lucky to have her.”

“Yeah, about that.” Rainbow squirmed in her mother’s embrace. “I would still love to be a Wonderbolt, but I’ve come to realize that there are dreams more important than that.”

“What?” more than one person at the table blurted out.

Rainbow shuffled uncomfortably in her mother’s embrace and looked at the ground discontentedly. “You see . . . well . . . there was this time I sat on a cloud for a couple days. It came to me then. The first day I thought to myself, ‘I’d give my wings for the girls to come back unhurt’. You know, that thing ponies say sometimes when they really want something badly.”

A round of acknowledgment went around the table.

“I did the same thing on the second day. Truthfully, I didn’t pay it much mind. On the third day, after thinking that, I realized it wasn’t an exaggeration. I think it was at that point that my lifetime goal of becoming a Wonderbolt took on less of a shine.” Rainbow looked up from the floor to look at everyone across the table. “It just wasn’t as important anymore; there was something I wanted more. I haven’t been able to muster the same energy for my practices since then.”

“I’ll help you practice,” Scootaloo stated proudly, spreading her own wings. “There’s no way I’m letting my sister miss out on her chance at becoming a Wonderbolt.”

“Sister, hmm?” Remus said. “Shouldn’t that be mother?”

“About that,” Rainbow said. “A funny thing happened on the way to completing the adoption.”

“Haha funny or ‘Twilight step away from the workbench’ funny?” Nissy asked.

“Bella enjoying a plot twist on her soap operas funny,” Rainbow said. “The medical tests showed that Scootaloo and I have the same mother and father. We were always sisters and never knew it.”

“Thus, the reason the adoption fell through.” Twilight mused. “That invalidates your surprise as well.” She nodded at Sirius.

“Surprise?” Scootaloo turned her attention to Sirius, wagging her tail slightly.

“I’ve filled out the paperwork to bring you fully into the House Black,” Sirius said, “making me as much your father as Rainbow would have been your mother. This complicates things, however. I’ll have to settle on being your brother-in-law, instead.”

Sirius suddenly found he had a lap full of orange fluff as well as the wife who had already been sitting there. “Thank you! I know it’s not going to happen now, but thank you!”

“I’d have been lucky to have you.” Sirius hugged Scootaloo. “We’re still family, but I would have been proud to call you, my daughter.”

“I have a family.” Scootaloo sobbed as she buried her face in Sirius’ shirt. “I have a family.”

“That’s so sweet.” Bella declared, “I’m getting cavities.”

“Bella, please,” Nissy reprimanded.

“You know what?” Bella said. “I’m through tiptoeing around the issue. I want little ones of my own. Come along, Remus; we’re doing this herd thing after all.”

“Bella, you can’t just declare something like that!” Nissy scolded.

“You’re the reason no one was wearing clothes this morning,” Twilight noted with a glare at Bella as the realization sank in.

“That’s right. I borrowed Nissy’s wand and vanished all our clothing.” Bella said. “I figured it would be good for a laugh. Besides, I got to snuggle with Maud.”

“You pranked Remus and Nissy.” Sirius beamed as tears of joy started to form in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Bella tricks,” Maud stated.

“Good one,” Pinkie added.

“We’re wasting time.” Bella smiled gleefully. “Breakfast can wait.” She produced Nissy’s wand and waved it at Remus. “Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Bella you can’t just . . .” Nissy started.

“Come along, girls; it’s playtime.” Bella said to Maud and Grace. She then stood and left the room, floating Remus after herself.

Nissy stood and quickly followed. “Bella, come back here! Give me back my wand! And my man!”

Maud and Grace shared a look. “Shall we?” Grace asked.

“Yes,” Maud replied in a manner that was remarkably quicker than those at the table had come to expect.

The two women rose and left the room at a sedate pace.

Those remaining at the table stared after with varying levels of shock showing on their faces. “Well, that just happened,” Rainbow said after a minute.

“Pinkie,” Sirius asked suspiciously, “you didn’t happen to make these pastries using love honey, did you?”

Pinkie nodded enthusiastically. “I used twice as much as I normally would. I thought I’d try something different.”

Twilight sighed. “I saw Bella eat at least three of them,” she told everyone.

Andi grimaced. “Grace put away at least three herself.”

“Four,” Pinkie corrected proudly.

“These things need to come with a warning label,” Ted said as he munched on one of his own.

“How many did Maud have?” Rainbow eyed the platter.

“Six.” Pinkie smiled.

“Remus is going to need some pepper-up potions,” Sirius noted.

Everyone went silent again as Windy and Bow looked on in confusion.

“So,” Sirius tried. “Where are Dan and Emma? I distinctly remember them being present last night.”

“I teleported them back to their house,” Twilight said. “I do know where they live, after all.”

Sirius nodded. “Kreacher, deliver a couple of hangover potions. They’re going to need them.”

“Kreacher will,” the elf said before popping out.

“Why didn’t you leave Grace with the Grangers?” Andi asked Twilight.

“She was getting along rather nicely with Remus and Nissy,” Twilight said. “That worked out a lot better than I was hoping.”

“You are hereby banned from playing match maker in the future,” Sirius told his wife.

“She’s apparently very good at it,” Ted countered.

“You don’t think they’ll actually go through with it?” Rainbow looked in the direction their friends had departed.

“Those mares looked determined,” Windy said. “And the head mare already said she wasn’t averse to having additions to her herd of two.”

“You think Nissy will end up being alpha?” Pinkie mused.

“She already dominates Bella in most circumstances,” Rainbow said. “And don’t get me wrong, but Maud doesn’t strike me as the alpha type. What’s more, I’ve met Grace before, and I know she’s a follower.”

“Well,” Ted wiped a few crumbs from his fingers “Andi and I are going to head back to our room and get a few more hours of sleep,” he declared.

Andi looked at his plate then looked into the eyes of her husband. “How many of those did you have?”

“Just a few.” Ted said.

“Five,” Pinkie informed everyone.

Rainbow snorted. “Yeah, right. Sleep.”

“Well,” Bow said. “It looks like there is going to be a break before we have that family outing. Maybe Windy and I should head home and come back later.”

The rest of the table turned to look at Pinkie with questioning eyes. “Four each,” she said helpfully.

Sirius smirked. “We have a guest room you can rest in. It’ll save you the trip.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Windy said, eyeing her husband with a shy smile.

“I’m feeling it now,” Twilight said, looking at the half-eaten pastry sitting on her plate. “Pinkie, you are banned from making this recipe again, without due warning.”

“Why?” Pinkie asked, popping one into her mouth whole. “They’re tasty.”

“Pinkie,” Twilight said with a bit of steel in her voice.

“Okay, okay,” Pinkie said.

Twilight got up and started to walk from the room. “Come along girls.” She said, “You too, Sirius.”

“Coming,” Rainbow said as Pinkie pronked after, holding Sirius’ hand. “Follow us, Mom, Dad. We’ll show you to that guest room.”

Scootaloo sat at the table and shrugged. Having been too excited to eat earlier, she pulled a bowl of porridge toward herself and picked up a spoon with her wing. As she munched on her own breakfast, she eyed the platter of remaining pastries with a contemplative look.

“Kreacher!” she called out, waiting for the elf to pop in before continuing. “Would you mind packaging these and placing a stasis charm on them? If I time it correctly, I’ll win the pool for sure. These are going to make the perfect gift for Professor McGonagall.”

Kreacher scowled at the platter. They were eating entirely too many pastries as of late.

Interlude 3: Bittersweet Harvest

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As the man staggered more than slightly on his way to the front door, he noted the rays of the sun barely reached beyond the sill. It was still much too early after his bachelor’s night in. In his younger days, he would have been at the pub with the lads. Now, however, quality time with video tapes of questionable taste and Irish brews of questionable origin were the highlight of his existence. A part of him still yearned for the drunken laughs and tall tales, but his current self could only tolerate them in small doses.

As his hand touched the doorknob, he silently cursed his body reminding him that beer was rented, and not purchased. He smacked his lips as his tongue scraped at the rest of his cottony mouth. Regardless of who was on the other side, he would have to keep things brief. He desperately needed water both coming and going.

Opening the front door of his home, he looked down to find the people who had been knocking were a pair of young girls. They appeared to be seven or eight, maybe even nine; he was hardly an expert on the matter. Blearily, he examined the two. One had honey blonde hair and wouldn’t have merited a second glance wherever it was that young girls were found nowadays. The other, though, had striking black hair with an unnatural streak of lime green going down the center, making him wonder what parent in their right mind allowed a child to dye their hair like that. Smacking his lips again, he rasped. “Here now, who are you two? How may I help you?”

“Honey Scout Girls!” The two beamed up at him with wide smiles as he noted that they were both wearing unfamiliar uniforms that were more than a little too pink for his liking.

“Honey Scout Girls?” he echoed, confusion filling his voice.

“Eh.” The blonde shrugged. “We really need to get the right name.”

“I’d like to see you come up with something better,” the girl with the green stripe said, reaching into the haversack she had slung over her shoulder. She produced a small, recognizable glass jar and held it out for him to take. “We’re giving out samples,” she said as he took the offering.

He brought it closer to his face. “You’re handing out baby food?” he asked, noting the jar had indeed been repurposed, but instead of the expected pureed mess, it held something translucent and pink.

“It’s honey.” The blonde said proudly, “We made it ourselves.”

“Aren’t you just busy little bees?” The man shook the jar slightly, noting the consistency of the substance inside.

“Bees are inferior,” the girl with a stripe said snidely. “Please don’t confuse us with those amateurs.”

“Don’t underestimate bees,” the man replied. “They play an important role, what with flowers and all.”

“I suppose so.” The striped girl shrugged. “But you’re going to love this honey a whole lot more.”

The man knitted his eyebrows and frowned. “What’s in it?” he asked.

“Love,” the blonde answered.

“Putting love into your cooking is always a wonderful thing,” the man said indulgently. “What else is in here?”

“Just love,” the blonde asserted.

The man raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s concentrated love,” said the girl with the stripe.

“I’d imagine there’s a market for concentrated love.” The man set the jar on the table by the door, promising himself to bin it at the first chance he got. “Explains the pink color, I suppose.”

“This isn’t working,” the striped girl told her friend before turning her attention back to the man. “You need to get out more.”

The man blinked at the sudden change in topic. “I’m hardly a hermit,” he said, sounding aggrieved.

“When was the last time you talked to a woman?” the blonde girl demanded of him. “More than just in passing.”

The man blinked again. “I’ll have you know that I talk to Betty all of the time.”

The girl with a stripe huffed. “She works with you; of course, you talk to each other. The problem is she’s happily married.”

“And she’s always trying to match me up with one of her friends.” The man huffed back at the girl. “Did she send you? That would explain a lot.”

“No. No.” The blonde said, “She’s on the right track, but we weren’t sent by her.”

“There’s a woman just down the street, who is as perfect for you as you are for her,” the striped girl said impatiently. “We’re hitting you up because you are half a mile from your soulmate. We just have to convince you to take a chance, or so my partner says.”

“Gods,” the man muttered. “The lasses are taking up matchmaking younger and younger every year. Look, I’m perfectly capable of chatting up a lady on my own. I don’t need the help of a pair of girls just out of their nappies.”

“Really?” asked the blonde. “When was the last time you were with a woman?”

“I am not having that conversation with you.” The man snapped, “I don’t know you. What’s more, I’m positive you are too young to be having it anyway.”

“This really isn’t working, Feelers,” the girl with a stripe growled.

“Fine.” The blonde sighed. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Finally!” The striped girl cheered as she ran through the doorway, past the man. In a remarkable show of strength, she swept his legs out from under him, only to catch him and somehow managing to lift him over her head. “I’d like to see a bee do this.”

The man yelped before demanding. “Put me down!”

“Not until you are in the arms of the woman you are going to love,” the stripe-haired girl, who was much stronger than she looked, snapped at him.

“You really need to be more subtle.” The blonde girl sighed. “That was the whole point of this exercise.”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” The striped girl started sprinting down the street with the man held high above her. “Close the door, would you? We wouldn’t want any bees getting in while we’re away.”

It was a lazy Saturday. Her son had spent the night at a friend’s house, and she was celebrating by doing nothing, taking advantage of the quiet and using it to rest in a comfortable chair with a cup of tea at hand. She was more than half asleep when a voice startled her.

“Good day, Miranda.”

Her eyes snapped wide open as she looked up to see an old man standing nearby. It took only one glance for her to categorize him as a wizard. He seemed to be going out of his way to give that impression. It really wasn’t the long white beard so much as the flowing yellow robes and the gnarled staff he was carrying.

“Who are you? How’d you get in?” Miranda demanded, sitting up straighter in her chair, glaring at the stranger. “What do you want?”

The old man gave her a smile and she could have sworn his eyes twinkled. “In order,” he said. “Who I am is not important, magic, and I am here to give you the opportunity to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye, then,” Miranda said. “Now get out.”

The man chuckled at her hostility. “I suppose I should have seen that coming. No, my dear, I did not mean for you to dismiss me; rather, I wanted to extend you the opportunity to say a final farewell to your estranged husband.”

“I said goodbye to him a long time ago,” Miranda snarled, sagging back into her chair. “And good riddance.”

“I understand the sentiment.” The old man commiserated. “However, I do not believe I made myself clear. When I said a final farewell, I meant this would be your last chance to seek some closure. By the end of this day, the opportunity will be gone, never to return.”

“He’s dying then?” Miranda’s voice held hints of both regret and satisfaction. “Why should I waste my time seeing him off?”

“I think . . .” The man looked at her sadly with a hint of disappointment. “. . . that your response is wholly warranted. I also think that you will regret not grasping the offer to put the final paragraph in this chapter of your life.”

Miranda narrowed her eyes at the old man. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“An excellent question.” The man beamed at her. “At the risk of sounding sinister, let me assure you, had I meant you harm, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I am more than capable in that regard.” He gave the woman a reassuring smile. “However, I am a friend. Granted one you have not met before, but a friend nonetheless.”

“You are playing up the mysterious old man to the hilt,” Miranda accused.

The man looked delighted. “I have been practicing. It is refreshing to find that my efforts have been appreciated.”

Miranda stood up out of her chair, studying the man. “I suppose I’m going to regret this, one way or the other. All right then, what now?”

“If you would be so kind as to place your hand on my staff.” The old man said before having a second thought. “The long one. Err . . . the wooden one in my hand.”

“You’re a dirty old man as well as a wizard,” Miranda stated.

The man sighed deeply. “I had a rather surprising and startling experience with a woman earlier today, when I said those exact words. Consequently, I have come to the conclusion that clarification is required.”

“Oh?”

“She claimed to have a ‘Gandalf complex’.” The old man winced.

Miranda giggled. “You poor thing.” With those words, she reached out and grasped his staff. The long wooden one in his hand, that is.

“It was not an entirely unpleasant incident.” The man’s eyes definitely twinkled that time. Before Miranda could respond, he continued. “Number one, engage.”

Abruptly, Miranda felt something grab her just behind her bellybutton and tug. She was assaulted by a spinning sensation and an experience her eyes couldn’t quite comprehend. Then, as suddenly as it started, it was over and she found herself collapsed on the ground.

“What was that?” she slurred, her eyes still spinning.

“That, my dear, was a portkey.” The old man’s voice drifted down to her. “They are a rather convenient snippet of magic.”

“I’ve heard of them.” Miranda once again got to her feet. “All of the ambulances carry them now. Can’t say that I’m impressed.”

“They do have deficiencies in certain areas.” The old man chuckled. “Sacrificing comfort for practicality.”

A dirty look was sent the wizard’s way as she dusted herself off. “Where are we?” Miranda looked around, noting that they were in a cavern somehow lit by a soft green light.

“Another name of little import.” The man started walking, correctly assuming that Miranda would follow.

“That’s not . . .” Miranda started before her attention was stolen by a soft skittering sound somewhere in the shadows. “What was that?”

“That was just the guards.” The old man said, “Fear not; they shall not hinder us.”

“Guards?” Miranda echoed. “Where exactly have you brought me?”

“A question that deserves a long explanation. Alas, we have not the time.” They emerged into a larger cavern, this one was filled with glowing, well, pods with translucent sides and barely recognizable figures floating within some kind of green liquid.

Miranda gasped. “Are there people in those?”

“Yes.” The old man’s voice was grim now. “Spare them no pity. Not one of them deserves any. Each and every one of them has committed an unredeemable crime.”

“That explains why my ex is here.” Miranda gaped. “He’d fit right in with people like that.”

“These are the worse of those we have collected.” The old man continued walking. “There is neither desire nor capacity for atonement in any of them.”

“So, you are judge, jury, and executioner then?” Miranda asked.

The old man scoffed at the question. “We care not for such burdensome constraints. Those who are harmful to the collective shall be removed and neutralized for the good of all.”

“That statement makes it sound like this could all go horribly wrong.”

“And yet the alternative is to allow such people to continue to run rings around the legal system.” The old man sighed. “Alas, I did not bring you to debate the morality of the actions that are being taken here.”

“You just know I have to ask.” Miranda followed the old man as he walked past several of the miniature prisons. “What makes you better than the people trapped in these things?”

“Yes.” The old man hummed. “That question is somewhat more common than it has any right to be. It implies that imparting justice is on the same level as harming others for profit and enjoyment. Even if the methods employed are similar; the motivations and intents are polar opposites.”

Miranda gave him a studied glance at his response.

“Besides, you are laboring under the misconception that we strive to be better than these villains.” The old man continued walking. “If it saves more innocents, we are prepared to be much more vile than they would ever dare dream.”

Miranda flinched. “When does it become too much?”

“The inherent flaw with that question is that in asking it, you ignore the harm being inflicted by it becoming too little.”

She elected to remain silent for the rest of the walk; following the old man until he stopped in front of one of the pods. Without so much as a murmur, the old man reached through the solid-looking membrane and grasped a handful of hair before yanking enough so that just the head of the occupant was through the barrier. A small gasp escaped Miranda as recognition dawned in her eyes.

“Here we are.” The old man brought his staff forward and sharply rapped the trapped man’s protruding noggin. “Wake up. You have a visitor.”

The man in the pod sputtered and spat out some green goop before his eyes focused enough to comprehend that two people were standing in front of him. “What?” He blinked a few times before zeroing in on Miranda. “It’s you. Bint, get me out of this thing right now!”

Miranda stared a few seconds as her ex proceeded to call her several unsavory names all the while demanding his freedom. “You can put him back now,” she said to the old man.

“Did you have nothing to say to him?” the old man asked, ignoring the ranting.

“Put him back,” Miranda repeated.

The old man used the base of his staff to force the man’s head back into the pod, resulting in an audible gulp as the man took his last breath of air. “That could have gone better,” he commented.

“What were you hoping for?” Miranda’s eyes never strayed from the man who had caused her so much pain.

“Honestly? We were hoping for a last-minute realization of love.” The old man sighed. “Something bittersweet or perhaps tangy.”

“Well, you were wrong,” Miranda said. “I appreciate what you have done here, but I think I’d appreciate it more if you send me home now.”

“This distress was not our intent.” The old man sighed. “If you like, I can have you obliviated.”

“No,” Miranda said sharply. “You were right earlier, you know. It’s time to start the next chapter.”

Chapter 30: Parents Portent and Pabulum

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The room looked like a complete mess. There wasn't so much as a square centimeter of open space. Everything seemed to be strewn about haphazardly. Colorful bolts of cloth were scattered among drab patterns. Sketches were weighted down at random points by needles, notions, and knickknacks.

Above floor level, the reality of the situation was revealed in a pale blue aura. An orchestra of cloth and creativity, needle and thread, teased out a symphony of fashion at the direction of the white unicorn pony on the rostrum as she measured out the tempo with her horn. With each passing moment, an elegant dress was born and hung from a peg on the wall.

Three short fairytale escapees with large ears and large eyes added to the elegance as they replicated the dresses in different sizes, while a witch added to their efforts as she waved her wand. Despite using two sewing machines each, they could barely keep up with the unicorn's pace.

No words needed to be exchanged; where the maestro led, the others followed.

An owl appeared, apparently from nowhere, into the maelstrom. Production ground to a halt as everyone focused on the intruder. The bird juked out of the path of a bolt of forest green silk while twisting in a barrel roll around a pair of shears that threatened to impale it. It screeched in terror when it found itself in front of a fusillade of straight pins. Millimeters away from its body, a pale blue glow collected both the projectiles and the evidence of the owl's panic.

“Are you all right, darling?” Rarity inquired as she set the owl on a table near her. “That was a close one.”

“Who,” agreed the owl shakily.

“Is it that time already?” Lady Greengrass asked, placing her wand’s tip on the pouch the owl was wearing. “With everything we’ve manage to accomplish, this day has simply slipped by. Ex dimittere.”

Amidst the cacophony, the two Greengrass ladies were surprised when the bag regurgitated three balls of fluff instead of the expected one.

“Astoria, dear,” Lady Greengrass said with a smile. “I see you’ve brought company.”

“Yes Mother,” Astoria said, quickly regaining her hooves as her two friends lay splayed on their backs, still suffering from the stunning mode of travel. “These are my friends Sudden Flake and Constant Flow. Their parents said they could spend the afternoon here if that meets with your approval.”

Lady Greengrass reached down and picked up the white unicorn filly, flipping her over and placing her on her unsteady hooves. “I see you failed to warn them about the particulars of this mode of travel.”

“Fanks,” Sudden Flake said as she swayed slightly.

“That was actually fun!” Constant Flow exclaimed, flipping herself over, even as Lady Greengrass was reaching for her. “You do this every day?”

“It is a somewhat unique method of commuting,” Rarity said, taking her eyes off her work for the moment. “However, it is not something to which one cannot become accustomed.”

“Your mom has a ring foo?” Sudden Flake looked up at the towering human with a shy smile. “Faf’s cool!”

“Astoria?” Lady Greengrass asked. “Did you inform their parents exactly where their daughters would be spending the afternoon?”

“Yes.” Astoria nodded her head. “Our home.”

“Did you happen to mention the fact that our home is in a different dimension?” Rarity asked with a hint of suspicion.

“No.” Astoria frowned. “Should I have?”

“We’re in a different dimension?” Constant Flow asked excitedly. “Cool! I can’t wait to go exploring!”

“I’ll take you down to the muggle village,” Astoria said. “That is, if they have your permission to stay, Mother.” The filly turned a devastatingly effective pair of puppy eyes onto the elder Greengrass.

Lady Greengrass sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time to escort you. We are opening a new branch of Rarity’s business in Canterlot. One of the Crusaders' properties has become vacant, and it would be inadvisable to pass on such an opportunity. Perhaps you should restrict yourselves to the manor.”

“Actually,” Rarity said, “Straight Line hasn’t been to the village yet. She could accompany the foals and get some fresh air in the bargain. She’s been cooped up in the house, and a nudge toward exploring would do her a world of good.”

“Who’s Faight Line?” Sudden Flake asked.

“She’s my tutor,” Astoria said. “You’re going to like her.”

“I suppose we are disrupting her lesson plans as it is.” Lady Greengrass pursed her lips. “Very well, you may ask her to escort you; I can see you wish to impress your friends. However, if she declines, you are to stay on the grounds.”

“Thanks, Mother.” Astoria turned to trot from the room. “We won’t take any more of your time. Come on, girls; let’s go.”

“Bye, Aforia’s mother.” Sudden Flake waved a hoof before following.

“Yes, bye.” Constant Flow waved her own hoof. “Thanks for allowing us to stay.”

Once the foals had left the room Rarity said, “She never introduced us.”

“It was bad manners.” Lady Greengrass nodded. “However, she was excited, having friends over for the first time. It is no excuse, and I shall be speaking to her about it later, but I saw no need to embarrass her in front of the other two.”

Rarity returned her attention back to the fashion flotilla. “I suppose foals will be foals,” she commented. “You don’t think Straight Line will actually take them to the village, do you?”

“Thank you for that suggestion, by the way,” Lady Greengrass said. “It’ll soften the blow. There is no doubt that Straight Line will decline. She has been more skittish than a mouse making its way across a room full of kneasels.”

“Being thrust into a world full of large gangly, err, people will do that to a mare.” Rarity agreed. “I believe she has yet to venture past the front door.”

“Regardless,” Lady Greengrass said, “I shall be taking a small break to write their parents. I need to make them aware of what they permitted their daughters to do as well as extend an offer to keep their children for supper.”

Professor McGonagall looked at the gathered first-years in her office and suppressed a frown. It was turning out to be a trying year, and frankly, she was happy to nip their newest venture in the bud before something spectacular came of it. “And what exactly do you think you are building on the grounds?” She sent a harsh glare to make her displeasure known.

“A ballista,” Miss Lovegood replied without hesitation while her friends did their best not to look guilty.

“Why . . .” Professor McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. “. . . exactly are you building a ballista?”

“Because we realized it would have come in handy for the hydra,” Mr. Weasley stated.

“You are supposed to leave that poor hydra alone,” Professor McGonagall said sternly.

“We know,” said Neville. “We weren’t planning on using it on him. But it doesn't hurt to have a fallback in case the wards fail.”

“We’re going to have an upper-year add shrinking runes for us,” Miss Bates added.

“That way we can keep it in our pocket.” Miss Brown smiled.

In a tight voice, Professor McGonagall said, “One of your members can already toss around highly destructive balls of fire on a whim. I’d appreciate it if you did not add flying lethal lengths of lumber to my worries.”

“So,” Mr. Potter sulked. “No ballista then?”

“I shall be alerting Hagrid to this new source of firewood,” Professor McGonagall said with finality.

For the centaurs, life was literally a journey. To survive, they needed to travel to find plants and prey. Staying for too long would leave the land barren. For Licenta, however, the painstaking search for edible plants and game trails had been replaced with leisurely trots on tarmacadam. Now that she was living among humans, what had been a daily struggle for simple sustenance had been replaced by a weekly jaunt to a paradise of plenty. Instead of having to wake in a different place each day in order to find food, she now had to stay in the same place every night so that others could find her. She had almost forgotten what it meant to move when her new family had announced that they were relocating too someplace better.

The new dwelling was considerably larger than the one they had been inhabiting, and Licenta's human family was excited over the new location, a sentiment she couldn’t help but share, as the atmosphere of elation was contagious. Mr. Thomas was particularly overjoyed at winning the contest that had yielded the larger home. Mrs. Thomas was elated at winning the sweepstakes that would pay for the resulting bump in their council tax and utilities.

Breaking camp and relocating hadn’t been even remotely difficult. One of Mrs. Thomas’ friends had learned about the move and had volunteered the services of a grumpy little elf who did all of the work. Although volunteered, his services came at an unexpected cost, as he spent the entire time insulting every member of the family. Licenta herself, was called several disturbing things, not the least of which was "horse butt". She couldn’t help it if she had an equine rear; she had been born that way, after all.

Not even borrowing Rosie’s ring could remove the butt of that jab. Whenever she used that magical artifact, Licenta ended up as a little pony. It would have been nice if she had wings like Rosie and Eva, but she wasn’t that lucky. Instead, she kept bumping her horn into inopportune objects, resulting in more than a few instances of distasteful sensations coming from that new appendage. The little elf's commentary had been even less pleasant after he had backed into her smaller form. At least her coat stayed the same brown coloring, no matter what form she took.

Well, that was the case, unless Rosie got a hold of Dean’s spare wand again. Licenta couldn’t help but object to being purple with pale yellow polka dots. The mere memory brought shudders. At least she had gotten off better than Eva. Licenta still wasn’t sure what those colors and patterns could be called, besides "yuck".

So, here she was, in her own private room, something of which she could never have dreamed of when she had been living with the herd. It had taken a lot of explanation and a few sleepovers with Rosie and Eva before she was convinced that it was not a punishment. There were more than enough rooms in the house to go around, especially since Rosie’s grandparents had opted to continue residing in the trunk Dean had bought for them. It was somewhat surprising that Mr. and Mrs. Thomas had chosen to continue to share one of the larger rooms, instead of each taking one for themselves. Was that a punishment?

Oh well, humans could still be strange at times.

The view from the train’s window could only be described as barren with only sparse patches of snow breaking up the grey scenery. If he were being honest, this wasn’t a place that Sirius would admit he wanted to live. While it had nothing on Azkaban, there wasn’t much joy in the landscape. Yet, this was where his most exuberant wife had taken him to meet her parents, something that could only be seen as inevitable, after being introduced to both Rainbow’s and Twilight’s families.

And what an experience those introductions had been. Twilight’s father just blended into the background as her mother managed to put the fear of in-laws into Sirius’ heart. Though, to be fair, she did it in a friendly, if buoyant manner. Then, there was Twilight’s brother; he was the very definition of big brother… Emphasis on big… Major emphasis… Extremely major emphasis. Even though they had all seemed receptive to his and Twilight’s union, they still left the head of House Black feeling on edge.

On the other hand, he felt strangely comfortable around Rainbow’s parents. He supposed that had something to do with the fact that those two had spent the first day and night he had met them secluded in one of the spare guest rooms. The goofy grins they sported afterwards didn’t hurt either, not that Sirius hadn’t been wearing a grin of his own. Whatever Pinkie had done to those pastries had been extreme. In truth, the only times Sirius had seen the pair on that first day were at breakfast and when Bow had interrupted Sirius’ alone time with his wives long enough to ask to borrow a pair of rings.

It still made Sirius uncomfortable remembering how the pony had been let into the room while he and Rainbow were intwined. The passionate exclamations of how amazing his daughter was at taking care of her stallion were distressing to say the least. There was something very wrong about getting that level of encouragement from the father of the woman he happened to be with at that moment. However, as a result, Sirius felt accepted, if not a little awkward around the older male.

At least he wasn’t heading into this introduction solo. Remus needed no reminder of how subtly effective Pinkie’s breakfast contribution had been. That by itself was more than slightly suspicious, considering she had access to both an apothecary and the Black library, leaving him to wonder if love honey had been the only special ingredient. Regardless, Sirius now wasn’t the only one in the house being laughed at for being blindsided by herd acquisition. Nissy was still occasionally shooting Bella nasty glares over that. Thus, the other Marauder was coming along to meet the same set of parents. Maud had insisted that they take Grace, Bella and Nissy so that the new herd could be properly introduced.

Stepping off the train did nothing to improve Sirius’ impression of the environment; he was finding it hard to believe such a locale could be the homeland of the jubilant pony known as Pinkie Pie. Yet, amazingly enough, that seemed to be the case. The ponies awaiting them on the platform bore as much resemblance to her as shale to opal.

“Pinkamena, thou hast returned,” the grey pony in the black hat declared in a dry voice as the party exited the railcar. Well technically, he was a shade of brown, but he excluded an air of being grey. “Thou hast brought with thyself thy newfound stallion as well as thy herdsisters. Far hast thou strayed from home; this outcome be not unexpected.”

There was much blinking at this greeting before Bella leaned closer to Grace and said, “It’s official; Pinkie’s the one who’s adopted.” To that, Grace couldn’t help but nod her head.

“Yup!” Pinkie pranced between the two groups. She couldn’t hop because Remus had made a collar that prevented bouncing, which he promised to remove once she wasn’t pregnant anymore. “Everypony, meet everypony!”

“I’m not jealous. I’m Not jealous. I'm not Jealous. I'm Not Jealous,” one of the younger mares standing in the group chanted.

“Good news!” Pinkie continued. “While visiting, Maud snagged herself a stallion. She has a herd of her own now!”

“I Am So Freaking Jealous,” corrected the pony Pinkie had interrupted.

Rainbow was suddenly by that pony’s side, totally pulling a Pinkie as she slung a forehoof over the pony’s neck to pull her closer. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Twilight has this match making thing down to a science. If you ask her nicely, she’ll introduce you to somehuman.”

“Really?” the pony in question, questioned. “Which one’s Twilight?”

“That would be me.” Twilight raised a hoof. “And you are?”

“Limestone,” the mare returned. “You and I are going to have a talk.”

“Pinkie, I think we are going to need more than ‘everypony meet everypony’,” Nissy scolded.

“Okay,” Pinkie said cheerfully, pointing to ponies in turn. “Mom, Dad, this is Nissy, next to Grace, who is next to Bella, who is next to Remus, their stallion, who is next to Twilight, who is next to Maud, who is next to Sirus.”

Maud deadpanned, "That was a joke."

Pinkie then turned her hoof on the other group. “You’ve met Limestone, who is next to Rainbow.”

“Please to meet you,” said several voices at once.

“These are Mom and Dad,” Pinkie said before zipping over to the other young mare, holding her close. “This is Marble Pie, my baby sister who’s only a few minutes younger than me but she’ll always be a baby to me; isn’t that right? She’s so excited to meet everypony.”

“Wait?” Sirius perked up at those words. “You’re twins?”

“Yupperroonie!” Pinkie smiled.

“This I have got to see.” Sirius trotted forward and held out a small ring to the young gray mare. “Here, hold this.”

Marble gave Pinkie a doubtful look only to receive an encouraging nod. Then she reached out and took the ring in her mouth.

“Now just concentrate on changing.” Sirius instructed with a grin.

The resulting transformation was made all that more spectacular by the fact that the seams of her painfully pink blouse couldn’t contend with the strain.

“Jackpot!” Sirius declared, his grin reaching new heights.

“Brrrrr,” Marble complained as she examined her new body.

“Definitely twins,” Remus commented. “The sisters are, too.”

“Yes!” Sirius practically hissed. “Twins.”

“You need to share,” Remus insisted.

“But,” Sirius said. “Twins.”

“You already have a wife with those assets,” Remus countered.

“And you have four in your herd.” Sirius reminded him. “Besides, you already have a set of sisters.”

“And you have a date lined up with a fourth,” Remus said.

“I may not be proficient with my horn yet,” Nissy said, “but I can still hex the both of you.”

“But,” Sirius repeated. “Twins.”

“I want twins, too.” Bella spoke up.

“Are the stallions fighting over a mare?” Rainbow asked with an evil smirk.

“It would seem that Marble will be coming back with us,” Twilight said. “One way or the other.”

“It’s cold out.” Marble said shyly as her new anatomy pointed out the obvious.

“I am so freaking jealous,” remarked Limestone dejectedly, lowering her head towards the ground.

Straight Line had no idea what had gone through her head. As a tutor, she wasn’t inexperienced with pouty looks directed at her by foals. She had no idea why she had given in this time. Despite the triple effect, she should have been somewhat immune. Yet, here she was, escorting her young charges into a town full of humans -- a creature type to which she had been recently introduced upon taking her current job.

The most notable human was Lord Greengrass, who was not unlike many of the nobles she had worked for in the past. His alpha, Lady Greengrass, was more approachable. Lady Rarity was pleasant enough as well. Straight Line hadn’t confirmed the original species of either mare, but she knew that Lady Rarity was Knight Elemental Generosity, thus likely pony-born. Furthermore, Lady Greengrass had Astoria as a foal, meaning the young filly had to have gotten her hooves from somepony. This left the tutor wondering if the human stallion was looking to add yet another pony mare to his herd.

As work went, it was an exciting, if stressful, assignment. This trip into the human environs only threw more fuel onto the fire. The reactions of the humans when they were first noticed served to emphasize that. It was obvious that they were attempting to avoid being rude by staring at her and the foals. It was also obvious that they wanted to get closer and examine the ponies.

“I don’t actually come into the village that often,” Astoria was telling her friends as they looked around with wide eyes. “It being a muggle village and all, but there are some magical families and a few witches our age. Actually, I normally floo to their houses; so, walking like this is new.”

“Fey’re all faring.” Sudden Flake was a little unnerved.

“My first time here in pony form.” Astoria admitted. “This is probably the first time any of them have seen ponies, if I’m correct.”

“That would have been nice to have known before we left the manor,” Straight Line said, waving a friendly hoof at a man looking out his shop window at them.

Astoria sighed. “Father doesn’t want Daphne or me being friendly with people beneath our status, but mother will allow it from time to time.”

“So, exactly where are we headed?” Constant Flow asked as she continued her rubbernecking.

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Astoria said. “I just thought we’d wander into town and go from there.”

“So, you are less of a guide and more of a fellow explorer?” Straight Line asked suspiciously.

“I do know the town,” Astoria protested. “I just don’t get to come here that often. At least I know how to watch out for cars.”

“Fey sure have a lot of cameras,” Sudden Flake noted.

What had Straight Line been thinking when she agreed to escort the foals?

“Look, there’s May and Ingrid. They’re a couple of the witches I was talking about.” Astoria pointed at a group of six human fillies before starting to head over to them. “Ingrid!” she called out. “May!”

The girls' stares only became wider as the ponies approached.

“Do I know you?” one of the girls asked while another gasped.

“Astoria,” said the gasping girl. “You’re a pony!”

“Tada!” Astoria stood on her hind legs and threw her forelegs wide. “Got it in one, Ingrid.”

“Astoria?” asked the first girl. “That’s Astoria?”

“Don’t you recognize her voice?” Ingrid asked kneeling down and outstretching her hand as if to entice a lost puppy. “We haven’t seen you in a while; kinda figured your father finally put his foot down.”

“Wait a minute,” one of the other human fillies said. “You know ponies? Does this mean you and May are witches?”

“May is.” Ingrid said, her voice underlaid with sadness. “I’m probably a squib. I’ve never managed to do accidental magic.”

“Are you going to introduce us to your friends?” Straight Line suggested, still looking around as the other humans watched the encounter with interest.

“This is Ingrid.” Astoria pointed toward the squatting girl. “And that’s May.” She pointed to the first girl to talk. “I’m sorry I don’t know the others.”

“Stella, Jasmine, Gloria and Tracey.” May pointed out each girl in turn. “Why didn’t you tell us you were a pony?”

“You’re so cute.” Jasmine declared, rushing over to scoop up Sudden Flake.

“Haven’t you been watching the news?” Stella frowned at her friend. “You’re not supposed to hug ponies without asking first. It’s rude, and they don’t like it.”

“Don’t care,” Jasmine said. “He’s cute.”

“I’m a filly.” Sudden Flake huffed.

“She’s cute.” Jasmine corrected herself.

“They all are.” Gloria spoke up for the first time. “Yet you don’t see the rest of us snatching them up.”

“I don’t think we could lift the big one.” May said eyeing Straight Line.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t try.” Straight Line said.

“Anyways,” Gloria said. “We were headed over to my house. Would you like to join us?”

“Yes, please.” Astoria spoke for her friends. “I’ve never been in a muggle home before. Today seems like it’s a day for new experiences.”

“I think we can all agree on that.” Constant Flow said as she let Ingrid stroke her coat. “This is not what I was expecting when you invited us to spend the afternoon with you.”

“Are you complaining?” Sudden Flake asked.

“Nope.”

When Twilight had commissioned her own trunk, she had elected to make it different than Rarity’s own George. First of all, she had declined several security features. Her trunk wasn’t going to gain a reputation for being a pony eater. Secondly, why would she have an ice rink when the space would be better used for a good laboratory and work area? She had forgone other space wasters to increase the size of the library. One thing she did keep the same was the hot tub, a hot tub, that two stallions were currently relaxing in after taking a break from all mare-based attentions.

“Well, the phrase ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’ has just proven to be total bunk,” Sirius said.

“It is the exceptions that prove the rule,” Remus replied. “After all, you, yourself are one such exception.”

“I suppose so.” Sirius shuddered. “But wow, Remus. Just wow.”

“All things considered; Pinkie does make more sense now,” Remus said.

“That statement is an open paradox.” Sirius said.

“Too true.” Remus paused for a second. “With her having a twin, we know she wasn’t adopted.”

“Talk about opposite personalities.”

“We may have scared Marble a little,” Remus said.

“You think?” Sirius snorted. “I’ve heard about hiding under a rock before, but I never expected to witness it taken so literally.”

“That was more of a boulder and less of a rock,” Remus corrected.

“Pinkie did say she wasn’t used to the attention.” Sirius sighed.

“At least we have confirmed that Nissy can indeed shoot hexes from her horn,” Remus said.

“Don’t remind me.”

“I was honestly surprised when Cloudy Quartz laid into her for doing that,” Remus said. “From my first impression, I wouldn’t have guessed that woman had it in her.”

“She did seem laid back,” Sirius agreed. “But we should have known Pinkie got it from somewhere.”

“Like you said earlier, 'wow… just wow'.”

“The mares are still in a deep discussion on the proper treatment of us blokes.”

“I still don’t know why you dragged me away from that,” Remus complained. “It was enlightening.”

“You were trying to figure out how women think.” Sirius snorted. “Even I know that way lies madness.”

“It was still enlightening.”

“Twilight pulled out her blackboards; that’s never a good sign,” Sirius countered.

“It was getting interesting.”

“No…” Sirius said. “Just no.”

Remus sighed.

“This trip is turning out to be nothing like I was expecting,” Sirius noted.

“That’s an understatement,” Remus said. “Rock soup is a no go.”

“I don’t even understand the mechanics behind that one,” Sirius admitted.

“I wonder if the reason Pinkie can eat so much is because she’s used to getting her minerals in a concentrated form,” Remus mused.

“Okay, stop right there,” Sirius said. “I don’t want to comprehend; it’ll only make my head hurt.”

“I suppose that is a rabbit hole.”

There was a pause before Sirius spoke again. “Then there’s Limestone.”

“Wow… just wow,” Remus said.

“She’s… she’s…” Sirius was at a loss for words.

“Rude.”

“Yup.”

“Aggressive.”

“Yup.”

“Confrontational.”

“Yup.”

“Ill-tempered.”

“Yup.”

“Unforgiving.”

“Yup.”

“And generally unpleasant to be around.”

“Yup.” Sirius continued nodding along. “So, are we introducing her to Snivellus?”

“I’d consider it to be our Marauder-bound duty.”

“Too true. One way or another, sparks are gonna fly.”

Chapter 31: Surrender Sacrifice and Shifting

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In a poorly lit room, five men sat in stuffed chairs sipping from tumblers as they engaged in a conversation none of them were particularly eager to be part of. They were all members of the dark faction, something that was all but extinct. especially since all of the previous members of the Wizengamot who held that distinction were now either vacationing in Azkaban or more permanently indisposed. Those present were all inheritors or regents to the seats they now occupied. Although the mood in the air was particularly grim and drab, they had chosen colors for their aliases.

“The old ways are in danger of dying out,” grumbled Mr. White.

Mr. Green snorted. “That is an optimistic statement. They are all but dead already.”

Mr. Red agreed with a nod, “Respect for our traditions has disappeared overnight.”

“It is only a matter of time before they are forgotten,” noted Mr. Blue.

“And yet, I see no way to counter this travesty,” said Mr. Turquoise. He would have preferred to have either the name “Mr. Blue” or “Mr. Green”, but those had already been claimed, and “teal” just made him want to duck.

“It is insufferable,” said Mr. Red.

“And yet, we have not the power or influence needed to change the course currently laid out before us,” said Mr. Turquoise.

“We have become servants to the muggles,” Mr. White all but snarled. “It is an affront to magic itself.”

“That is an understatement,” Mr. Blue said. “The commoners have taken the jobs the muggles offer almost en masse. There is a looming worker shortage in Diagon Alley even as we speak.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Mr. Green said.

“Any witch or wizard with even an ounce of competence has quit their job. They now find being tellers or salespeople to be beneath them.” Mr. Blue sneered. “The shops are now being tended by squibs.” He paused to take a sip from his glass. “I fear there may even be a muggle or two mixed in.”

“Have they no pride?” Mr. White asked. “Why would so many allow their careers to be usurped by lesser beings?”

“Pride, it would seem, can be measured in galleons,” Mr. Red said. “The muggles are willing to pay them more for far less effort, something about them being over qualified for the positions they had held.”

“So, we must suffer from inferior service as a result,” Mr. Blue observed. “I was forced to cast my own shrinking charm during my last visit.”

“That coupled with the gutting of the Ministry means that many of our people have migrated to working for the muggles.” Mr. Green surmised. “I see no way to contain the contamination.

“The common folk will not willingly go back to the way it should be,” Mr. Blue grumbled. “My own wife, against my wishes, has brought a telly into our home. From what little I could force myself to stomach of it, I can already tell you that the masses will not willingly forsake such a travesty.”

“When I was passing through the Leaky, I saw that they were showing the latest Quidditch match.” Mr. White conceded, “It is a damn sight more engaging than the wireless.”

“And yet, can they not see that such things do naught but spread the taint of muggles?” Mr. Turquoise asked.

“Muggles are much more competent than I previously gave them credit for,” Mr. Red said.

“Don’t be daft,” said Mr. White. “They are of no consequence. They bring down our society simply with their presence.”

“And yet, as much as we suffer from the contact, it would seem that those of lesser status find the new order benefits them,” Mr. Turquoise observed.

“Do they not realize it is only a matter of time before the persecution begins?” Mr. Green asked. “That is the way of muggles, after all.”

“We can only pray that it begins sooner rather than later,” Mr. Blue said wisely. “It is our only hope of returning things to the way they must be.”

“And yet, we can do naught but sit on our thumbs in the meantime,” stated Mr. Turquoise.

The light of the sun had not yet made an appearance when Sirius and Remus entered the kitchen. Both had taken pains to extract themselves from their own separate pony piles while avoiding waking any of their wives. The conversation they were about to have happened to be one over which they didn’t want to upset their mares. There were bound to be hurt feelings enough as it was. As luck would have it, the two elder Pies were already in the room. Cloudy was at the stove working on breakfast while her husband sat diligently at the table, keeping her company.

When the two younger stallions entered, Igneous Pie said. “Good tidings this morn. Well pleased are we to greet thee. Come sit, for thou hast the countenance of one who bears ill tidings, and we would hear what thou hast to reveal.”

“Good morning,” Sirius and Remus chorused as they found seats at the table.

“We need to talk to the both of you,” Sirius said bluntly.

“What concerns dost thou have?” Igneous asked as Cloudy left the stove to trot over to the table.

Remus sighed and was the first to speak. “The local town is dying.”

Sirius snorted. “That’s an understatement. The town is dead. The only ones left are the dead and dying.”

“We knowest whence thou speaks.” Igneous sighed. “Bountiful art the ponies who would leave never to grace these lands anon.”

Remus tapped his front hooves together nervously. “We don’t want to pour salt on fresh wounds, but have you considered that it might be time to relocate yourselves?”

“Thou wouldst have us abandon the lands of art forebears?” Cloudy asked. “Thou speaks the unthinkable.”

Sirius frowned but pressed forward. “I’ve glanced over the books with Maud and Limestone.” He grimaced at the memory. “It is apparent that they are doing more work for diminishing returns. Rock farming is all but obsolete. In another ten years, if not sooner, nobody will be able to make a living from this.”

“My sire and my sire’s sire hast fashioned respectable livings from this land,” Igneous said. “Times mayhaps be difficult, yet the tradition shall no doubt hold true.”

“You cannot eat tradition,” Remus said. “A complete collapse of the industry is imminent.”

“Yet still needs must we provide for family,” Igneous insisted.

“From what we’ve gathered, there won’t be a means to support even one pony if you continue on this course,” Remus said.

“Look,” Sirius interjected. “It’s not healthy to stay here. Marble and Limestone are both horribly socially inept, and you are only harming them by keeping them here.”

“Thusly come we to the heart of the matter,” Igneous said. “Thou dost seek to add our remaining offspring to thy own herds. Truth be told only contentment be found over such tidings.”

“Well . . .” Remus dithered. “That is . . .”

“We won’t deny being interested in Marble,” Sirius said. “But that’s not the point here. The point is, you are family, and the Blacks take care of family.”

“Thou wouldst take on such a burden?” Cloudy asked. “Think thou we hast no pride?”

“Pride goes before the fall. I myself am not unfamiliar with hard times,” Remus said. “Besides, it is not a burden.”

“Hypocrite much?” Sirius asked. “He is right, though; I have more money than I know what to do with, a problem that has only been growing with the recent revelation of the magical world.”

“Thou woust have us suckle at thy teat as a newborn foal dost its mother?” Igneous frowned.

“There’s that pride we were talking about,” Sirius said. “You’ve given your children all that you could; it is now time for us children to take care of you in return. A nice home in Ponyville, or wherever you choose, is in your future, as well as a modest stipend that will not leave you wanting.”

“We could not accept such charity.” Cloudy said.

Remus snorted. “What part of ‘family’ are you still too stubborn to accept? ‘Tis not charity. Please accept so that your daughters are secure in the knowledge that you shall be well cared for.”

Sirius shot Remus a wiry glance. “’Tis?”

“Not now, Padfoot.”

“We would beg for time to consider thy council,” Igneous said sorrowfully. “We are children of the land; leaving all that we hast known be not a light undertaking.”

“That is understandable,” Sirius replied. “I did something similar in my youth, and it proved to be the best thing to ever happen to me.” He took a deep breath. “Just accept that we are taking Marble and Limestone with us when we go, even if we have to tie them up and stuff them in Twilight’s trunk to do so.”

“Be that how thou dost acquire mares in thy homeland?” Cloudy asked.

Remus barked a laugh. “That would be a good way to get our bits hexed off if we tried.” In a serious tone, he continued. “Your daughters have chosen, and we all know this farm can no longer sustain them.”

“Thou dost force hooves to meet thy demands,” Igneous sighed.

“I don’t mean to be so rude.” Sirius shrugged. “Sometimes one has to be unpleasant to look after the welfare of those one cares about.”

“Wise words.” Cloudy said. “Unwelcome yet wise.”

So far so good. Well, truth be told, the situation wasn’t terrible, but it was a long way from being good. After all, she . . . he had a wand safely tucked under her right wing. Ineffective appendages that they were, at least they were useful for something. She . . . he had been in a much worse predicament when she had lacked any sort of body. She had one now; he was no longer just a passenger. It was a step in the right direction. Oh, how much she would love to crucio Quirrell for his monumental blunder. If only the fool hadn’t gotten himself killed in the process; it was a pity the resurrection had been beyond any means of which she . . . he was aware.

Now, all she had to do was gain access to one of her hidden treasure troves of ancient tomes. Surely there would be something in one of them that would allow her . . . him to return to an appropriate body. In fact, she . . . he had just the spell in mind, a soul transfer. She was positive she had skimmed a ritual that swapped the consciousnesses between two living, breathing bodies. That would be perfect. She would be human . . . and MALE again.

It would only take some effort and a modicum of planning. Then, his plans for the wizarding world would proceed as if they had never been interrupted. He was nothing if not patient, and that patience would pay off. Soon, all of his enemies would suffer. She would have her . . . his revenge! She just needed to get in contact with one of her loyal followers to set about the task of finding the right donor.

Until then, she was reduced to sulking around in this paltry form. She couldn’t even dare visit some of her old contacts in the area for fear of being rendered into potions ingredients. If only she had had the foresight to mark them, this would be so much easier. Maybe she should have held off on punishing the pink toad until after her . . . his plans were already in motion? No, that resolution could not have come quick enough. That had been well worth the increased difficulty.

And difficult it was. She had tried casting a disillusionment on herself . . . himself to no avail, a rude reminder of her diminished capacity, leaving no other option than sneaking her way to Albania the hard way. She would take advantage of the muggles and stow away on one of their trains. She . . . he just had to find one of their stations.

That is what led to his current situation of darting from shadow to shadow as the sun slowly rose. She would need to find a hiding place soon. The streets would be full of mongrels before too long, and she couldn’t risk being seen.

As if on cue a voice shouted out. “muhri! 'iinah muhr!” causing him to freeze and look around for the source.

She was more that a little angered when she realized it came from a previously unnoticed woman with an excited look on her face. What was even more unsettling was that the woman was pointing directly at her . . . him.

Oh. . . “iinah” must mean “pony”.

Hector couldn’t believe that school had been let out early. Apparently, a gas leak in the building was enough to accomplish that rarity. He did feel just a little sorry for his classmates who had to wait in the nearby church until one of their parents could come and collect them, but he, himself had an easy out. The look on his teacher’s face was priceless when he had summoned the large owl for a ride. After all, he was staying with the Apples until his mother came back from her trip.

Big Mac had, of course, been surprised when he had shown up ahead of schedule, but a quick explanation had laid any worries to rest. Having already been promised to be taken into town later after the local school was out, Hector first faced several hours of free time. It came as no surprise that Big Mac had allowed him to go outside to play in the snow. All was good.

Hector wondered if it was possible to build a snowman as a pony.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Granny Smith smacked her lips and looked up at her grandcolt from where she had been napping in her rocker by the fire. “Did y’all warn Hector ta steer clear o’ Fluffy?”

“Nope.”

“I recon he won’t be missing out on any o’ his schoolin’ afta all,” Granny said, returning to her nap.

Cheerilee opened the door when she heard the, by now, familiar scratching. She didn’t bother to blink as she said, “Hello, you’re new.”

Hector stood, with his back to her, staring up at the monstrosity wearing a badge that declared its occupation. “Your truant officer is a three-headed dog,” he stated.

“Yes,” Cheerilee said. “He’s very effective.”

“I’d imagine so,” Hector agreed.

“May I have your name?” Cheerilee asked.

“Hector.”

“And why weren’t you at school, Hector?”

“They let us out early for repairs,” Hector said. “I have to go back tomorrow as usual.”

“I see.” Cheerilee nodded. “In that case, we’d be happy to have you join us for the remainder of the day.”

“I was kind of looking forward to building a snowfort with my free time, ma’am,” Hector remarked.

“You are welcome to try your hoof at playing dodge dog, if you prefer.”

Hector gave her a look

“There is one empty desk left in the back,” Cheerilee said. “After school lets out, I can talk to your family and explain everything.”

“I’m staying with the Apples for the week.”

“And they didn’t warn you about Fluffy?”

“In my experience, Big Mac is the forgetful type.” Hector sighed.

“That doesn’t seem like him.” Cheerilee fretted. “He’s not one to play jokes on ponies, either.”

“So . . .” Hector waffled. “How’d you manage to get that badge to stay on him like that?”

“One of the humans cast a sticking charm,” Cheerilee said, studying the colt. “I think you may be in shock.”

Hector frowned and pointed a hoof at Fluffy, who was sitting, wagging his tail happily.

“Yes,” Cheerilee said. “There really isn’t anything I can say to that, except that the novelty does wear off.”

“It leaves a lasting impression.”

“Yes, well . . . I do need to get back to my lesson. Will you be joining us or did you wish to try your luck?”

“That desk in the back?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

As Hector was walking by, Somnuther said, “I told you; you’d enjoy your first Fluffy ride.”

“I think I wet myself.” Hector muttered.

“You hear that?” a filly said from her desk, turning toward another filly. “Make another mark in the ‘wetting’ column.”

“On it,” said the second filly, pulling out a notebook. “Who picked Tuesday from 9:50 to 10:00 in this week’s pool?”

The visit was being cut short by harsh reality. Once the decision to leave had been reluctantly agreed upon by the elder ponies, Sirius and Remus pushed for everyone to be on the next train out of town.

“The train leaves in less than two hours.” Grace said. “We’ll never make it.”

“We have magic on our side.” Sirius said. “With the appropriate application of levitation, shrinking charms, and my wife’s trunk, we will have the house packed in no time.”

“I’ve got that covered.” Twilight enthusiastically said. “Everypony outside.”

More than a little confused, everyone trotted outside to see the magical display Twilight was sure to perform.

“Wouldn’t this be easier to do from the inside?” Remus asked once everypony was standing in front of the building.

“No. Why would you think so?” Twilight asked as she stared at the home they had just vacated. Her magic surrounded the entire structure, lifting it into the air.

“When I said pack the house, I didn’t mean the actual…” Sirius started.

There was a pop and the home took on the appearance of a dollhouse.

“Never mind, this works too.” Sirius finished as Twilight floated the Pie home into her open trunk.

“Holder’s Boulder.” Limestone said with a few tears in her eyes as she pointed at a large rock. “We can’t leave Holder’s Boulder.”

Twilight just levitated the formally large rock into the trunk soon after. A feat which earned her a grunt of acceptance from Limestone.

“This be sudden yet long coming.” Igneous said solemnly. “Let us be off fore emotion bear down our hooves.” He and his wife both had tears in their own eyes.

No words were spoken as their hooves carried them away from the site of their home for generations. With whimpers and tears, the Pie farm was abandoned.

Leading the procession, Pinkie had her head lowered and her hair wasn’t as curly as ponies may have come to expect. Suddenly her head shot up and her eyes went wide. “Wait! Did Rarity say ‘again’?”

There was a first time for everything. The pink pony child sitting in the chair was a first for the British Embassy in this particular country. She had been found roaming the streets in the early hours and the locals had been unsure what to do with her. They had only been too happy to foist the problem off on the first group that had the slightest hint of responsibility.

The man who had been chosen to ferret out the who what and wheres sat down opposite the sullen youngster and offered a smile. “So young lady.” He was certain the pony had growled under her breath at that. “Your presence here is a bit of a surprise. Don’t worry, you are not in trouble, but we are going to need you to answer some questions.”

The foal nodded shortly.

“To start with.” The man maintained his smile. “Could you tell us your name?”

The child locked eyes with him and seemed to consider the question for a minute. “Cozy Glow. My name is Cozy Glow.”

It was impossible to tell which of the women were more surprised to see the other when the elder of the two walked into her kitchen.

“Ruby.” The woman smiled as her daughter gaped, with a treat halfway to her mouth. “What are you doing home?”

The younger sighed before taking a bite from the chocolate chip delight in her hand. Instead of answering, she looked down at the table.

“Not talking and you’re raiding my stash of biscuits. Must be serious.”

“You’re home early,” Ruby stated.

“I’ve reached my quota of side alongs. Once I do that, I’m free for the rest of the day. Since they don’t want to stress our magic too much, they have charts depicting how much we are allowed to do based on distance, number of passengers, weight of passengers and other things.”

“Sounds like a cushy job,” Ruby said taking another bite. After swallowing, she continued. “Doesn’t seem like too much work, to be honest.”

“It’s not, and yet those in charge are ecstatic to have us. For the red priority apparitions, it is true that seventy two percent of the cases are already deceased by the time we get there. It’s the remainder that remind us of the good we are doing.”

Ruby grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’m getting good at making portkeys as well. I’m so glad they procured us all licenses.”

Ruby grunted again.

“I see the teenage angst is strong with you.”

“I am not being angsty,” Ruby protested.

“Your pout tells me otherwise.”

“I am not pouting!”

A raised eyebrow met the raised voice. “Why aren’t you at school?”

Ruby huffed. “I’m an adult. I can leave anytime I want to.”

“I cannot even begin to describe the irony of you uttering that statement right now.”

“Mum!”

“Point in case.” The woman smiled as she went over to the cupboard to retrieve a couple of glasses. “Are you just going to sit there and act like the world is ending, or are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Ruby took a last bite. “Torin broke up with me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. Breakups are never easy.”

Ruby grunted, while nodding in agreement.

“This may sound cliché, but you’ll get over it.” Ruby’s mother said as she poured some milk.

“He threw me aside for some ponies,” Ruby said bitterly.

The milk paused midway back to the icebox. “He did? Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I would never have thought him so shallow.”

Ruby continued nodding, “He had enough nerve to ask me to join his harem.”

“I know for a fact that ponies object to that word. Yanis has a brother who acquired a herd at that Ministry function. She simply adores her new sisters-in-law.”

“It’s the same thing,” Ruby grated.

“No, no they are not. The reason you object to the word “harem” is because historically, in those, the women belong to the man with no way out. Arguably, herds are the exact opposite. As I understand it, the men have the right to leave the herd any time they like, but that never happens.”

“To be fair, marriages in our world don’t give that much leeway,” Ruby said giving her mother a sideways glance. “How do you know so much about herds anyway?”

“Yanis has a lot to say on the subject. Her brother’s herd wants her to join them as soon as they can convince another man to join up. Apparently, a brother and sister in the same herd is not unheard of as long as there is another stallion involved whom the sister can play with.”

“I can’t picture Yanis playing with any man.” Ruby said.

Ruby’s mother gave a dry chuckle. “She is more than a little repressed. Remember, her parents had arranged a contract when she was young. The last war removed her parents as well as every member of the family she was to marry into. After spending a week cursed in a closet, her brother never attempted another marriage contract for her.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ruby nodded.

“She has had her eye on your father ever since I introduced them. I think being brought up to despise muggles is the only reason she didn’t make a play for him, herself. In fact, I have even asked her to help me give your father a birthday present or two, but her inner prude always raises its ugly head.”

“Mum!” Ruby gasped.

“Yanis and I have always been very close.”

Ruby stared at her mother wide eyed.

“She has been joking about me and Greg joining that herd with her.”

Ruby continued to stare.

“It suddenly occurs to me that there probably is very little joking involved.”

Ruby continued to stare.

“I’m going to talk to Greg and see what he thinks about it.”

Ruby continued to stare.

“No, forget that, we don’t need ponies to make a herd. I’m just going to drag Yanis in, kicking and screaming.”

Ruby continued to stare.

“Well, this conversation jumped the track . . . So, Torin went off for a kip and returned with a herd of his own?”

Ruby continued to stare.

Ruby’s mother placed a plate of biscuits as well as two glasses of milk down in front of her daughter. “Don’t look so shocked; you always knew Yanis and I were close.”

Ruby continued to stare.

“You said you were an adult; so, we are having an adult conversation.”

Ruby continued to stare.

“Don’t give me that look. You knew I had to have had sex at some point in my life. That is how you got here after all.”

Ruby continued to stare.

“I am just going to sit here and munch on a biscuit while you get your mind back in order.” One of the aforementioned treats disappeared from the plate.

After a bit, Ruby shook herself. “You and Aunt Yanis?”

Ruby’s mother nodded her head.

“I . . . Um . . . That is . . . I . . .” Ruby tried to speak.

“Are you going to need another minute?”

“No . . . Yes, I need another minute.”

“Have a biscuit.”

Ruby complied.

. . .

“How many times do I have to tell you, ‘have a biscuit’ doesn’t mean the entire plate?” Ruby’s mother sighed.

“Stress eating here . . . give me a break.”

“So, Torin found a herd?”

Ruby nodded. “Not so much found a herd, as being kidnapped and thrown at a bunch of ponies to pick one for himself.”

“What?” Ruby’s mother stopped mid-sip of milk. “From what I understood, kidnapping stallions is a very big no-no, as far as the ponies are concerned.”

“Turns out that Torin’s form is a really rare kind of pony that is on the brink of extinction.” Ruby said. “And you aren’t wrong about how they see kidnappings. The ponies who did it were more upset over it than Torin was.”

Ruby’s mother blinked slowly. “On the brink of extinction?”

The last biscuit disappeared from the plate. “Yes, bat ponies are really worried about their lack of genetic diversity.”

“You and Torin broke up because they want him to supply that diversity?”

“It may have had more to do with me following and hexing him and his kidnappers.”

“You hexed Torin?”

“He wanted me to join his harem.” Ruby seethed.

“You hexed Torin because he hurt your pride?”

“Mum, you don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand, because it sounds like you lost your temper on some people who are desperate enough to go against their own morals. So far it sounds like jealousy with a side of genocide to me.”

“Don’t tell me, you’re taking their side!” Ruby slammed her hands on the table and stood up.

“SIT DOWN! ACT LIKE AN ADULT!”

Having never been spoken to like that by her mother, Ruby did just that. Not for the first time that hour, she was left gaping.

The older woman pinched the bridge of her nose. “How many times have I told you? Your temper is going to get you in trouble one of these days. Where you got it from, I’ll never know. Neither your father nor I are anywhere near as volatile.”

Ruby bit her lip but remained quiet.

“The world. Our world, the muggle world, even the pony world, they are changing,” Ruby’s mother said. “If you think that there is a single wizard in your age range that won’t have a harem. Well, I didn’t raise you to be that foolish.”

“I don’t want to accept . . . ” Ruby started.

“Reality.” Ruby’s mother interrupted. “You don’t want to accept reality. You do realize your only other option is to marry a muggle, like I did. And Ruby, as much as I love your father, he is not aging at the same rate I am. People are already mistaking me for a trophy wife, not the partner who is a year older. One of these days, I am going to have to watch him die of old age. It is a waking nightmare I deal with every day.”

“Mum,” Ruby said.

“My path, My problem.” Ruby’s mother waved it off. “I do not lament my choice of love. It is mortality . . . But we are getting off topic. You are getting too old for me to tell you what to do. Whether you take my advice is up to you. Just remember, survival wipes laws and norms from the playing field. If you go against these rare ponies, expect to be crushed.”

“They won’t let me, let them win.” Ruby said. “They are dead set on me joining their harem. They even managed to get Torin talking to me again.”

“Herd. Let us at least use the right word.”

“I don’t have a clear path to a desirable outcome. Every choice I can make has its downside.” Ruby bit her lip.

“Welcome to adulthood.”

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me that I’m young and I can find someone else?”

“I’ve seen you and Torin together; felt your magic mingle. You aren’t going to be able to walk away from that,” Ruby’s mother said with way too much certainty.

“So, it’s the pony way for me? Just let them barge in and dictate how I’m to spend the rest of my life?”

“We make them eat meat. Compromises are being made all around. You are just concentrating on the sacrifice you are being asked to make,” Ruby’s mother said

“You really are on their side.”

“No, I am forever on your side. Even when you are in the wrong, I will support you. You are my daughter. That being said, I also wish to shield you from as much harm as possible. That includes heartache.”

“In the wrong? How am I in the wrong? They stepped in and ruined my perfect relationship.”

“No relationship is perfect.” Ruby’s mother said. “And, if as you say, survival is involved, traditional wrong no longer applies.”

“That’s the final word then?” Ruby huffed. “Give up and give in? I’d laugh, but it’s not very funny.”

Ruby’s mother sighed. “Sometimes, the final word can’t be funny.”

Bitterly, Ruby said, “Zugzwang.”

Chapter 32: Timed Transition Trending

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Anyone familiar with Diagon Alley would be forced to admit that it had gone through some drastic changes of late. The foot traffic was just a little denser, despite having its portal, the seedy pub Leaky Cauldron, still being obscured from the average muggle. However, those muggles with magical children under the age limit for Hogwarts were bolstering the numbers. Likewise, many of the former tellers and hawkers were now making an appearance as customers with galleons or pounds in their pockets. Their integration into muggle society was seeing them dressing more like their counterparts, and thus, there were fewer robes and more jeans to behold.

The assimilation also saw more and more muggle things being sold where there once had only been magical wonders. There was even a shop dedicated to tellys and other electronics that were compatible with a magical environment. That particular business was, in turn, providing significant owl orders to the one known pony establishment capable of providing the necessary parts for the adapter. The otherworldly supplier was a rather unusual venture that also offered tasty cakes and pastries and, surprisingly, some more adult oriented products. How they had worked that out for a business model was anyone’s guess.

In the alley, the shops themselves were being manned by those of a lesser magical ability, providing jobs for those who had once been unemployable. In fact, a good number of former werewolves made up the bulk of the retail workers. They possessed the strength of magic while lacking the education to be snatched up by the growing muggle magical industry. Ironically, someone had the insight to found a night school; so, that situation would not be lasting long.

Luckily, the population of ex-werewolves had grown exponentially when the ponies who had been providing the cure had discovered that with a greenhouse, they needn’t wait until the spring to obtain the necessary ingredients. Upon learning this, it hadn’t taken the Ministry a day to start rounding up known and previously unknown lycanthropes and administering the potion, whether the recipient wanted it or not. Though, admittedly, there were only a few of the latter. This practice was already being copied by the French and American Ministries, a practice that was only likely to grow as the supply increased.

The most drastic change was arguably a booth that sprouted up on the main fair close to Gringotts. It was manned, or ponied as the case may be, by a group of individuals who were strange, even by pony standards. They were all of darker colors, wore dark tinted goggles and had bat-like wings. And their teeth – let us not forget their sharp, pointy teeth.

That booth had a peculiar sign designating its purpose. It read, “FREE! – Find Your Pony Form – FREE!” above silhouettes depicting an earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn. The disclaimer was in smaller print above a more sinister silhouette: “Warning: Spousal approval is required for all married participants prior to testing. All thestrals are required to participate immediately in the repopulation program in Equestria. See waiver for details.”

The booth also had a smaller sign that read, “Wanted: Changeling to optimize herd composition.”

It may not have been perfect, but it was a step in the right direction.

On a side note, not one merchant in the alley could keep mangoes in stock for more than a few minutes. The same was true for the mysterious new product “love honey” that someone was supplying.

The last few months had been hard on Alice Longbottom. During the long years that she had been trapped in the purgatory of dark magic, all she had known was endless torment. Once she’d regained control of mind and body, she realized the world had changed in ways that made her a stranger in her homeland. It didn’t take a seer to predict that she would need time to recover.

Her sanctuary was supposed to be Longbottom Manor, her rightful home. That placed her in the care of her mother-in-law and the family elves – elves loyal to the senior Longbottom. That had been neither an advantageous nor an alluring arrangement. The resentment that the older woman felt over it being Alice, and not her son, who had recovered was plainly and profoundly palpable. While wordless, the accusation weighed wearily and wantonly with each passing second.

Relief came from some of her old comrades from the Order. Sirius and Remus had suggested that she come live in their tightly topped-off townhouse. It had turned out that there had been a room set aside for each of Sirius’ wives, but Rainbow offered up hers, since she never used it. The multicolored-haired woman apparently still kept an alluring aerial abode of her own, somewhere she sulked off to whenever Andi reminded her that she couldn’t be too active, lest she risk the life growing in her. And practicing structurally stress-sustaining stunts was to be strictly stopped straight away.

Sirius’ other wife, Twilight, though pregnant, was never idle. She was always studying something savory, relishing riveting research, or documenting definitive details. Ostensibly, the one thing she hadn’t been doing was what turned out to be her main job; acting as her town’s librarian. As outrageous as it may sound, she had delegated those delicate duties to her owl. Alice had always known that owls were intelligent animals, but that went beyond the pale.

Then there was Sirius’ third and final wife, Pinkie. She was . . . The pink haired woman was . . . Pinkie was. There was the phrase “Pinkie being Pinkie” that did not get nearly as much usage as it deserved. That said, the pony baked a mean cupcake. The first time Alice had made that particular comment, everyone had stopped what they were doing to examine every pastry in the room. Rainbow had even gone so far as to poke each with a fork – talk about worryingly weird and wasteful behavior.

One of the rooms was occupied by the senior Tonkses. Though that couple spent a good amount of time pursuing their contentedly chosen careers, they were around often enough to enjoy the eternally effervescent environs of the home. In truth, they were the most steadfastly stabilizing standards for the state of affairs.

Another room, the one that had been set aside for Pinkie, was theoretically timidly taken by the pink pony’s perpetually perplexed twin, Marble. Practice did not conform to theory since that young woman had never in her life slept in a room by herself. Instead, the shy yet sly sulker had shimmied her way into the beds of either Remus or Sirius; intent on joining with her sisters in the pony piles there. Alice was just waiting for her name to eventually be displayed on the family tapestry in one of two places.

Also in the home were Remus and his herd. Alice was still coming to terms with that novel concept. The fervently first female of that faction was none other than Narcissa, a woman that Alice had been well acquainted with when they had both attended Hogwarts. Known more frequently as Nissy, Alice had observed her mood run through irritated, before spending time on bemused, then skirting briefly on accepting, before finally landing on affectionate, when it came to the other women in her herd. She had even commented that regularly relating with her herd sisters was a different barrel of apples than when she was continually and contemptuously contending with Lucius’ many maligned mistresses.

The next weird woman to be weighed happened to be Maud, Pinkie’s elder sister. That mare was in the middle of acquiring her post doctorate degree and would disappear into an owl’s pouch for days. However, the time Alice spent with her was hard to explain, let alone contemplate. It was as if the woman were in a perpetual state of having her occlumency turned on full blast. And then there was her pet, a rock of all things, named Boulder. Alice could have sworn that the blimey bitty blighter had eaten her sandwich when she wasn’t looking. She would have considered the notion absurd if not for the fact that she had learned that the Aurors had a standing warrant for some talking rocks they wanted for questioning. To make matters marginally worse, more than once she had caught the supposedly inert and inanimate item napping negligently in her knicker drawer.

Then there were Grace and her son Hector. Every weekday morning, they would floo to their otherwise absentmindedly abandoned apartment so that she could go to work and the lad could participate at his previous primary school. Alice had at first thought that they were natural born ponies, owing to the amount of time the boy liked to spend as a colt. But it turned out that they were muggleborn, a fact highlighted by Grace joining several other adults for nighttime lessons provided by Nissy, while Hector was to attend Hogwarts the next year.

And finally, there was Bellatrix, the resident that Sirius and Remus conveniently forgot to mention when they made their offer. That one was almost a deal breaker, living in the same house as the one who put her in St. Mungo’s in the first place! In the end, it was only the knowledge that there had been a bridecage involved that convinced Alice to take the chance. It was telling that she had found that preferable to spending more time alone with Augusta.

This turned out to be relatively painless. Having lived with the reality of family members being imperioused to murder their own kin, Alice hadn’t found it difficult to redirect her righteous fury to the former Lestrange brothers currently residing in Azkaban. Consequently, Bella had acted as if their prior history had never happened. She never apologized for her actions, and she never brought them up. Instead, she treated Alice as a long-lost sister, whom she was determined to help recuperate. It was the formerly deranged woman who had taken the most time to see to Alice’s needs and make sure she felt comfortable and welcome, truly a bizarre turn of events.

As for Alice herself, she spent the majority of her time grieving for her husband. After being barred from spending every spare minute at the hospital, she began the slow yet steady progression toward health and normalcy. It had been a stressful experience these last few months.

The staff was becoming increasingly apprehensive. A frame of mind, that belied the way the last few months had gone. Everything was going as smoothly as could be hoped. Classes were progressing as anticipated, with the new muggleborns taking to magic with abandon. It was appearing as if it would be feasible to distribute them among the years and houses come next term, though those who had missed the first two to four years of magical schooling would still require tutoring.

Things were quiet; the Gryffindors hadn’t been caught summoning another extradimensional dragon.

They were even getting used to the actuality of the Gryffindor common room being a literal as well as figurative zoo. There had been a bit of a commotion when the lama started talking, but that turned out to be the doing of an older student. Filius had given the lad a good heaping of house points for that bit of charm work, even though the only thing the lama managed to say was “Get the snack! Get the snack!”

Things were quiet; the Gryffindors hadn’t been caught raising the dead again.

The largest handicap was proving to be the theoretical aspects of the curriculum. With the induction of pony knowledge, many of the facts previously taught were now suspect and “that’s impossible” had to be removed from the introduction of several magical laws. That is, when the laws weren’t just chucked out wholesale.

However, things were quiet; the Gryffindors hadn’t been caught sneaking off the grounds, despite there being no shortage of pizza in the Gryffindor common room.

With the additional professors aided in turn by Professor Snape’s septet of apprentices, the student body was getting a lot of individualized instruction. Not surprisingly, this also extended towards several of the seventh-year boys, resulting in two more formalized herds, an occurrence that may have been due to the fact that said instruction was practical, rather than theoretical, in nature.

Strangely though, things were quiet; the Gryffindors hadn’t been caught manufacturing explosives.

After much convincing, Albus had finally relented; they would no longer be keeping the most expensive tree sap he could acquire in the hallways, thereby relieving an unnecessary expense from the budget. Consequently, the barrels were replaced with a more economical variety because they were having to be replaced once or twice a week.

Despite the occasional mess, things were quiet; the Gryffindors weren’t caught picking fights with werewolves.

Yes, things were too quiet, and every member of the staff knew it.

The upper-year students of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns were confused. This had little to do with the influx of new ideas and theories concerning the very nature of magic itself. Okay, to be fair, they were confused on top of the bewilderment caused by the rapidly changing curriculum. This particular distraction was stemming from the odd circumstance caused by a few of their number. Frankly, it was the fault of one herd – the foreigners.

It had been bad enough when everypony could easily tell that one of the mares had been blocking her herd sister from time with their stallion. That infuriating situation had more than one mare contemplating isolating the offending party for a talking to, if not a good bucking. The outrage had even been brought to the attention of the princesses, and only reassurances that the subject was to be addressed had stayed the student mares’ hooves and horns.

Then the unexpected happened. It had been considered an impossibility, yet it happened anyway. They had brought a griffin into their herd. That was something that merited repeating. They had brought a griffin into their herd. They had managed to convince a Celestia-blessed, we don’t join herds, griffin to be part of their bucking herd!

More than one mare had needed a drink after hearing about that. A griffin . . . in a herd! And the cock appeared to be enjoying the experience. It wasn’t like he was the least bit upset by the sharing!

The mares and stallions of the school had needed some time to internalize that development.

Truthfully, they were unsure how to approach the group.

Technically, with two males and two females, that herd should be looking to add a couple more mares, something the herd did not seem to be attempting.

But what if forcing in more mares made the griffin decide to leave?

What were they to think of the predicament?

What were they supposed to do about it?

It was a bucking headache!

Really . . . a griffin joining a herd!

How could they get in on the action?

Severus Snape was having woman problems. To be more accurate, he was having women problems, which, honestly, was neither fair nor foreseeable. He had never been what others would refer to as a lady’s man. If he were being honest, he’d admit to once believing that he was to spend the remainder of his life alone. Having problems along those lines had never crossed his mind, especially now that he was married. Shouldn’t that shield him from having women problems outside those from his spouses?

But the fact of the matter was he was married to a pair of ponies. Zebras counted as ponies, didn’t they? Anyway, ponies had some peculiar notions. One such notion was they seemed to like sharing. That apparently included their husband.

How it had escalated was rather unpredictable, to say the least. Severus had assumed that the matter of the thestrals had been laid to rest after Extra Security almost was. He had not been privy to the conversation, but he couldn’t say he had been very surprised when he had been told that Applejack had put the annoying mare through a stone wall. This event eradicated any doubts he may still have been harboring over Apple Bloom being capable of doing the same. Granted, the younger sister was not nearly as powerful as the elder, but the bat pony had found her impromptu flight halted by the second wall on the other side of the courtyard. The second wall had needed repair, as well.

Luckily, or not, as the case may be, Extra had been in her pony form at the time. This had resulted in Pomfrey requesting he brew another batch of skelegrow as the unlucky mare spent the night in the infirmary.

The surprise had come after his two wives had decided to visit the invalid while she was laid up, yet another conversation to which Severus had not been privy. Having the thestral joining himself and his wives for tea the next evening in their private chambers was not an outcome on which he would have placed any galleons; yet, it was becoming a regular occurrence. The annoying mare had apparently earned the forgiveness of the other two. It didn’t help any that he was finding her steadily less annoying every day. Still, he swore he’d exclude himself from any betting pools with Sybil.

Severus was sure he could have handled that situation if it were isolated. However, his childhood tormentors had gleefully thrown more fuel on the fire, in the form of yet another mare. They had claimed that they expected him to get along swimmingly with the new individual . . .

. . . a most infuriating inconsiderate individual . . .

. . . whose every other sentence was some form of confrontation.

She acted as if it were her mission in life to hate everyone and everything.

When he had said as much to Minerva, the woman had asked him if Limestone reminded him of somebody.

That was pure nonsense; Limestone’s insults were plebian at best. She had no finesse.

Well, she didn’t when he had first met her.

After a couple of evenings, where the other three women had watched the back and forth with smirks on their faces, Limestone had proven that she could learn. She had proven that subtle insults were not beyond her ability to grasp.

Limestone had been joining himself and the others for their evening tea in their chambers.

Severus had asked his wives if they were expecting him to invite the other two women to their bed.

The answer had unnerved him.

He really did need to think of a way to pay back the mutt and the werewolf.

Lyra was having the time of her life. Strike that; Lyra and Bon Bon were having the time of their lives. Literally every country on the human’s home world wanted to host the pony ambassador and establish a relationship. At first, Lyra had been planning on making the tour alone, but Bon Bon adamantly quashed that idea, not wanting to be separated for so long. So, the flower trio had agreed to set up a semi-permanent display inside Bon Bon’s shop as they ponied the store for her. The townsponies had readily taken to the notion that the establishment had become a one stop shop for all of their snacking needs.

Luckily, all of the humans were only too happy to provide a kitchen for Bon Bon to work her magic while Lyra went about the business of being an emissary. That and Hedwig’s pouch ensured that there would be no shortage of stock back home, even when some of that stock was shanghaied to meet Lyra’s diplomatic demands.

Meanwhile, Lyra was being paraded around and pampered by the humans, she and her two assistants, that is. Celestia had provided a pair of ponies to accompany the mint mare and offer advice where needed. Fine Print and Composed Dream were both proving to be invaluable aides. That is, when Composed Dream wasn’t indulging in her newly acquired vice of belly rubs. The mare had found that there was no shortage of volunteers willing to help her indulge in that particular pastime.

It was not all fun and games. After all, there were serious talks to be had. For instance, the subject of trade had come up more often than not, something that was not feasible at the current time. Even if they somehow managed to impound the entirety of the owl population, the capacity would be only a mere trickle of the demand.

Still, they were making new friends, and the exchange of knowledge was nothing to sneeze at.

Yes, Lyra and Bon Bon were having the time of their lives. The only thing that would have made it better were if their new foal, Harry Potter had been able to accompany them.

Time had seemed to stand still. He was not certain how much had slipped away as he languished in his newest prison, a prison that was worse than the last one, much worse.

Previously, he had been weighted down by what had turned out to be a blanket. Devoid of anything to see with his mobility severely limited. This time, he could not move a limb. Something was binding his arms, legs, and neck, some thin material he couldn’t even move his head enough to see. Whatever it was, its grip was unyielding and he had long since stopped trying to struggle, if only to conserve what little energy he had remaining.

It was almost a curse that he was aware of his surroundings. At regular intervals, he could see the wooden plank in front of him just out of reach. There was a gap somewhere that was letting in the light, allowing him to observe his confinement, out of reach and just beyond a clear material he could just barely tap with his forehead.

What was with these people and the way they treated their dolls?

It might not have been an illustrious occasion, but the three alicorns of the land had gathered to share the duty. Reparations had been made, and the time had come to release the prisoner.

The three mares stood outside the building with their gazes set firmly on the entrance. Next to the pink one stood her stallion, wearing a look that was grimmer than that of the mares. Almost as an afterthought, a maid swaggered up and stood next to Celestia. The Princess of the Day looked down and gave the newcomer a nod which the semblant servant returned. That exchange drew questioning glances from everypony else present.

The responsibility of leadership had weighed heavily on Cadance. She had sentenced the changeling queen, Chrysalis, to isolation, unwittingly supplanting the changeling for the duration. It had not been easy, but she had matured in ways she would never have imagined. She had applied the lessons learned to her governance of the Crystal Empire and, in turn, had used the insights from the crystal ponies to improve her leadership of the hive. She had prepared for the moment to come more times than she cared to remember. Her speech was sure to be one remembered for generations.

Whatever was happening between the monarch and the maid would have to wait, as the doors opened and a figure exited, flanked by a pair of guards.

“Ah,” Chrysalis said, stretching her wings to their fullest. “Daylight.”

“You were hardly deprived such inside,” Celestia said in response.

“It’s the principle that matters,” Chrysalis countered. “I am sure your sister would agree.”

“Art we to trade barbs thusly?” Luna asked through gritted teeth.

“No, no.” Chrysalis shook her head with a smirk. “I was just making a point.”

“You can take your point and leave,” the maid standing next to Celestia snapped. “I want to see how fast you can flee.”

“Ah.” Chrysalis turned her attention to the strange addition. “I see.” Her tone took on a menace that was palpable. “May I suggest you keep such threats to yourself? You are much too young to be yapping thusly.”

“You are in the middle of my territory.” The maid’s voice was no less threatening.

The former prisoner took several steps forward, looming over the small maid.

“Chrysalis,” Cadance said worriedly.

“I’ll be with you in a minute, dear,” Chrysalis said glaring down at the maid as she gave the alicorn a wave with her hoof. “Diplomacy first and all that.”

“Are you going to try begging for your life?” the maid asked, not backing down.

“Yip yip yip.” Chrysalis mocked. “Has your mother taught you nothing?”

“After what you attempted . . .”

“Stop right there.” Chrysalis held her forehoof up toward the maid in a halting motion. “We both know that if you were in my former position, you would have done something similar.”

The maid stood on her hind legs and kicked her forehooves out threateningly. “If you think . . .”

“Ah!” Chrysalis presented her hoof again, cutting off the other mare. She turned to address Celestia. “Children . . . am I right?”

“Am I going to need to mediate?” Celestia asked with a small smile of her own.

“No. She is merely inexperienced, not stupid.” Chrysalis turned her attention back to the ground under the maid. “And she has had a bad scare.”

“You!” the maid started as she shifted to drier ground.

Again, Chrysalis cut her off. “Let us try doing this the pony way.” She brought her hoof down to the pavement and tapped it twice. From the shadows, two burly stallions appeared, carrying a barrel between them. They brought the container forward and deposited it in front of the maid.

“What is this?” the maid eyed the barrel suspiciously, nose twitching.

“You could open it and find out,” Chrysalis said smugly.

The maid did so and found the barrel was filled to the brim with love honey. She turned her hard look back on Chrysalis. “What is this? Are you trying to buy safe passage?”

“It’s a gift,” Chrysalis said. “Granted, I originally intended on presenting it to Sunbutt here, but I think she will agree that you are the better recipient. It represents the futility of any further hostilities between our two hives. Actions along those lines would only be detrimental for everyling involved. I will even be kind enough to give you a pass on the threats you were just making.”

The maid glared at the elder changeling but said nothing.

“Well done,” Luna said with a nod of approval. “Would seem thy imprisonment hast granted thee wisdom.”

“I am glad you found a peaceful solution,” Cadance said.

Chrysalis narrowed her eyes as she turned towards the pink alicorn. “And you,” she growled before trotting over and bopping Cadance on the nose. “You never bothered to visit me. Not even once.”

Cadance sat back on her haunches and covered her assaulted asset with her hooves. “Ah what?”

“Don’t you ‘what’ me,” Chrysalis snapped. “I took the time to see to you personally. And you. Not once.”

“I . . . I was busy with the Crystal Empire.” Cadance protested.

“Excuses, excuses. How many times did you visit me prior to going there?” Chrysalis demanded. “Let me tell you. Not once.”

“I. . . I . . .” Cadance sputtered, still holding her nose.

“Leave her alone.” Shining Armor spoke up, bringing everypony’s attention onto himself.

“Shiny!” Chrysalis chirped as she abandoned her position in front of Cadance in favor of caressing her rump against the surprised stallion’s side. “I’m mad at you too. You didn’t visit either. Is that any way to treat a lover?”

“I. . . I . . .” said Shining Armor.

“Well,” Chrysalis huffed. “I guess I am going to have to forgive the both of you… eventually.”

“I. . . I . . .” Cadance and Shiny declared in unison.

“You were in prison,” Cadance finally had the wits to proclaim.

Chrysalis huffed again. “Puuuulleazzzz. Like I don’t know that you managed to leave my care by riding an owl. You did absolutely nothing to prevent me from doing the same. I could have left anytime I wanted. What was preventing you from visiting in the same manner?”

Celestia and Luna managed synchronized face hooves at that declaration.

“Ah . . . Ahh . . .” said Cadance and Shiny.

“You two need to think about what you did,” Chrysalis said holding up a hoof which an owl flew out of nowhere and landed on. “In the meantime, I am past due on inspecting my hive.” With those words she disappeared into the owl’s pouch, quickly followed by the two stallions who had brought the barrel. Almost as swiftly, the bird left for parts unknown.

“Just once.” Cadance absently rubbed her nose. “I wish a conversation with her would go somewhat as I had planned.”

Celestia smiled knowingly at her niece before turning her attention toward the maid still staring at the barrel. “I do hope you are planning on sharing that.”

Chapter 33: When the Screaming Stops

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The Gryffindor common room was warm, raucous, and crowded. Its origins had been far more conventional, but a bit of magic and a few hundred pounds of muggle merchandise had changed all of that. In a place where the mundane had once been forsaken, there was now a telly, a bit of electronics hardened against catastrophic conflict with magic. While a bit of piracy had granted access to the muggle world, the real wonder was the other bit of electronics that was now providing the video feed, a video game console, the only one in the castle. To be strictly accurate, it was the only publicly accessible system. Ever since one of Lavender’s saved games had mysteriously been deleted, she had decided to keep her personal system in her room, with the promise to bring it back once the culprit had been identified. Since no one else was willing to condemn one of their fellows to defenestration, the others considered that system to be a lost cause.

Given that the bulk of four houses, as well as the occasional Slytherin, were eager to partake of what had once been forbidden, and the fact that the system accommodated a maximum of two players, the common room had been converted into the school’s game room, with board games both magical and mundane. Wizard chess had been combined with muggle time controls, resulting in the need for therapy for the pieces after all the groping of intense blitz and bullet sessions.

Muggle board games had likewise been given a magical twist. While multiple players vied for a monopoly on real estate, the board was now an animated diorama, with each neighborhood having its own personality. Instead of tokens, the players were represented by their personal avatars, who were subjected to all of the indignities inflicted by the roll of dice or the turn of a card.

For those willing to take a risk at diplomacy and strategy, one could lock horns with the reigning champion on a world map that had been enchanted to act out the conflicts. A crowd had gathered to watch the carnage as the tiny terror rolled.

“All sixes!” Dinky declared.

“Are you kidding me?” The Slytherin on the receiving end of an invasion declared, “You just rolled all sixes last time.”

“Okay.” One of the other players, a Gryffindor, said with his face in his hands, “Change into a pony for a minute. I’m sure you’ve got a cutie mark for board games on your arse.”

“Hey!” Dudley exclaimed from where he had been watching the current player of the video game.

“Flank.” The Gryffindor hastily corrected, “I want to check your flank.”

“That’s better,” Dudley said, turning his attention back to the red bouncing pixels.

“Well, that was exciting,” the Slytherin sarcastically said, looking at the back of the head of the boy who was visibly thinner than when he had arrived at the school.

Button Mash replied, “It beats trolling for stallions.”

The Slytherin smirked. “It was just Scootaloo and Abigail chanting ‘Six colts! Six colts!’. No one in their right mind expected you to give up your freedom for head of line privileges.”

Angrily, Berryshine retorted, “You’ve never seen Button at a real arcade. I don’t care what Madam Pomfrey says; there has to be something wrong with him.”

Button said, “I told you; I’m too young to be thinking about herds. Besides, this is all the excitement I need.”

The Slytherin shrugged. “We wouldn’t want the day to be too boring, now, would we?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the portrait opened, and Parvati came running in. She skidded to a halt to make sure she was being followed, and Apple Bloom was the next to rush in, holding both Seamus and Dean up by their tails. Hot on her heels was Hermione, in her pony form, dragging Ron by his own rearmost appendage.

“I can run on my own!” Ron yelled as Harry dashed in, holding Lavender up by her tail.

“What is it with the tails?” Lavender growled from where she was swinging.

Neville sprinted in like a rugger bugger holding Ginny, while Luna and Abagail swooped by on leathery wings. Meanwhile, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle brought up the rear.

“See!” Lavender pointed a hoof at Ginny. “That’s how you’re supposed to carry someone,” she snapped at Harry.

“No time! No time!” Harry snapped back.

“Up tha stairs! Up tha stairs!” Apple Bloom commanded, taking the set leading to the boys’ dorm two at a time for demonstration purposes.

The little fluorescent unicorn did not hesitate to follow.

“Hermione!” Ron wailed. *Whump!* “I can!” *Whump!* “Do this!” *Whump!* “Myself!” *Whump! Whump! Whump!*

“My turn!” Lavender yelled, morphing into her human form. She landed in a crouch only to straighten up while simultaneously throwing Harry over her shoulder. Her triumph was short-lived as Magah appeared behind her, slipping her head between the girl’s legs. The unicorn threw the pair onto her back before leaping up the stairs.

“Faster! Faster!” was what the occupants of the room heard Harry’s receding voice call out.

Then there was quiet.

No one moved.

The telly made the sound of a life being lost as a wandering turtle got lucky.

Lily Longsocks gently slapped the Slytherin who had tempted fate on the back of his head. Of course, this was more than enough to cause the poor fellow to land face first on the floor.

There was more silence.

Teresa finally spoke up. “I know everyone is thinking it; so, I’ll just say it. That can’t be good.”

Without a word, a sixth-year Hufflepuff who had been having difficulty with his silent casting levitated the table that had previously been detailing Dinky’s victory. As he was placing it as a barricade to the room’s entrance, a seventh-year transfigured it into iron.

“I’ll just go and see what that was all about.” Fay sighed, making her way toward the boys’ dorm.

There was more silence.

Another turtle took another life.

Everyone waited.

The minutes ticked by.

Suddenly, Fay came bounding down the stairs. “Everyone! Stay in the common room!” she cried as she dove for the narrow gap left by the iron table guarding the entrance with the confidence of a special operations soldier. As she scrabbled over the obstacle, her billowing robe made it apparent that was not the only way she had gone commando.

Blushing, the seventh-year who had originally transfigured the table finished his work, morphing the barrier so there would no longer be a gap.

Meanwhile, several more pieces of furniture were levitated over to add mass to the barricade.

The teachers’ lounge was unusually crowded for a weekend. There was, in fact, the full complement of staff milling about, most wondering why they were present. More than one of them were sending glares at the person responsible for wasting their precious leisure time.

Meanwhile, Professor Trelawney sat calmly doing her cross stitching, ignoring the looks from her peers. Clairvoyance was not needed to know what they had in mind.

Headmaster Dumbledore coughed into his hand before saying, “Ah Sybil, I, for one, do not take offense at the rather unorthodox nature of this summons.” He paused for a second, weighing his words. “Perhaps you would care to enlighten us to the reason you insisted we all attend this meeting?”

Peering closely at her work, Professor Trelawney offhandedly said, “Things are about to get interesting.”

“You’re being much too obvious,” Professor Snape snarked.

Abruptly, one of the room’s doors was slammed open, heralding the arrival of the Gryffindor’s female seventh-year prefect. “Professors!” Fay’s voice was high-pitched in apparent panic.

“Hold it a sec!” Berrytwist called out to the girl, holding up a hand while turning to address the divination professor. “Okay, now you’re just getting scary.”

“I don’t mean to seem to scoff, but that is just showing off,” added another professor of a different stripe, whose name is being withheld to protect her identity.

“Ladies. Please,” Professor McGonagall said before addressing Fay. “Miss Dunbar, whatever is the matter?”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

“Well, that was very informative,” Professor Snape commented.

“Severus,” Professor McGonagall said sternly, not looking away from the distressed girl.

“Perhaps you would care to elaborate?” Headmaster Dumbledore prodded gently.

“The firsties just ran into the common room in a panic!” Fay declared.

“The first-year Gryffindors?” Professor Sprout asked for clarification.

“They were panicking?” asked the muggle studies professor.

“Filius,” Professor McGonagall said, “floo the aurors; we are going to want back up.”

“Now Minerva,” Professor Dumbledor broke in. “Whatever it is, I am sure we can handle it. There is no need to involve the aurors.”

“These are the children who took on the country’s most feared werewolf without batting an eye,” Professor Goodman asserted. “I, for one, would appreciate the help.”

“Miss Dunbar,” Professor Snape demanded, focusing his stare on the unfortunate victim. “Details, now!’

“Well,” Fay said nervously. “After charging into the common room, the Crusaders rushed up into the dorms. Of course, I followed to find out what was going on. By the time I made it to the dorm, they had already barricaded themselves in a trunk. It took some knocking before Apple Bloom cracked the lid enough to peek out. When I asked her what was wrong, she said they would be staying put until it was safe and I distinctly heard Granger say ‘Just come get us when the screaming stops’. Before I could ask another question, Apple slammed the lid shut, and that’s when I decided it would be a good idea to come find you.”

“Filius!” Professor Weiss called out to the half-goblin with his head in the fireplace. “Tell them to bring creature control members as well.”

“A curse breaker or two wouldn’t go amiss, either,” added Madam Hooch.

Diamond Tiara watched as the last of the students rushed into the Slytherin common room. A prefect stuck his head out to check for stragglers before closing the portal and tapping his wand on it, muttering the phrase to transfigure it into part of the wall.

“I wonder why they announced for everyone to barricade themselves in our common rooms,” Daphne said from her place at the table. She still wasn’t sure how the boys had talked her into playing their silly game. Though she had to admit, it was sort of fun.

“I don’t know,” Silver Spoon said, “but I’ll bet the Crusaders have something to do with it.”

“Sucker’s bet,” stated Spike. “They’ve been too quiet lately. It’s only been a matter of time.”

“Anyways,” Ralph said, “Draco, you were about to roll for initiative.”

Things had been settling down around the DMLE offices now that a new norm was being established, and what a strange norm it was turning out to be. Where there had once had only been wizards, there was now an equal number of muggles milling about. In fact, it was the muggles who were doing the bulk of the menial office chores as those with magical training were actively recruited to put those skills to use. That is not to say that the only non-magicals present were those who held the lowest jobs; everywhere one looked, there were AFOs paired with aurors. It had been decided that if a wizard proved necessary, his muggle companion had better be armed as well.

It was a lot of firepower centered in one spot, and there were murmurings of the whole operation being relocated to the Yard itself.

This particular day the one in charge strode. She did not waddle. She strode; she hadn’t started on her third trimester yet . . . damnit. She strode down the aisles with small, awkward steps, trading small talk with her subordinates. This had become her habit since fieldwork was out of the question at this point.

The relative tranquility of the day was shattered when a junior auror sprinted up to her with a decidedly worried look on his face. “Boss!” He declared, “We have a situation!”

“Well?” Amelia asked when more information was not forthcoming.

“The professors aren’t exactly sure,” the junior auror admitted. “All they know is that the first-year Gryffindors have locked themselves in one of their trunks with the instructions to let them know when the screaming stops. We’ve already sent a team to investigate.”

Amelia sucked in a surprised breath before bellowing. “Listen up! I want two more teams inside of Hogwarts itself within two minutes. Lugwede, take four other teams and start scouting the perimeter! Someone, find me Scrimgeour and Atterman!”

Nearby, an AFO turned to his wizard partner. “I don’t understand. Why the panic over a bunch of scared children?”

“These are the kids who took down Greyback,” his partner spit out as the two started to follow their comrades toward the floo.

“That’s the werewolf, right?”

“Yeah, and I hear they have a restraining order against them to protect their local hydra.”

“Seriously?”

“Something about not wanting to clean up its guts from all around their town.” The wizard nodded.

The AFO looked down at the Model 29 hanging on his hip. “I’m going to need a bigger gun. Somehow, I’m not feeling lucky.”

Ted came running into the sitting room yelling, “Sirius! Remus! We’ve got trouble!”

“What’s the matter!” Sirius demanded, bounding to his feet alongside both Pinkie and Rainbow.

“We’re not exactly sure,” Ted said.

“Then why the panic?” Andi asked as she and Twilight entered the room from another doorway

“What exactly happened?” Remus asked.

“And may I please have a wand? I’d like to have fun, too,” Bella added.

“They aren’t exactly sure what happened.” Ted said.

“Sooooo . . .” Pinkie threw a shot in the dark. “The Crusaders happened?”

“Big time.” Ted nodded his head.

Twilight sighed before asking. “Was anypony hurt?”

“That was Filius on the floo; information is scarce,” Ted admitted. “All they know is that the Crusaders barricaded themselves inside a trunk asking to be informed when the screaming stopped.”

Everybody in the room went pale. Incidentally, it should be noted that Rainbow looked particularly fetching when the blood drained from her face, something the horrified look she was sporting could not completely hide.

“Right! Let’s get a move on then!” Sirius said, heading for the floo. When Twilight, Pinkie and Rainbow started following, he added. “You three stay here; we’ll handle it.”

“We’re going, too.” Rainbow puffed up.

“Absolutely not,” Remus said. “This could be dangerous.”

“Could be?” Ted asked. “Must you diminish the situation?”

“I want a wand!” Bella chirped.

“We can help,” Twilight said firmly. “We have the most experience dealing with the Crusaders.”

“I don’t care,” Sirius replied just as firmly. “You are all pregnant. I’ll gladly fight by your sides when that isn’t the case, but for right now I need you to stay safe.”

“We need to protect our stallion.” Twilight stomped a foot, almost losing her balance in the process.

“No. And that’s final.” Sirius laid down the law.

“I can help. Just give me a wand!”

“That’s not how it works,” Rainbow stated, arms crossed. “We can’t let you go into danger by yourself.”

“That’s how it works around here,” Sirius countered. “Pregnant women stay out of the way of danger.”

“You don’t just have yourselves to think about.” Remus added soothingly. “You have to think of your children.”

“Wand! Wand! I wanna help! Give me wand!”

“I’m going,” Maud deadpanned.

“We weren’t planning on stopping you,” Ted said as Nissy, Grace, and Alice belatedly entered the room.

“You can’t expect us to just sit around and worry,” Twilight growled.

“I’m good at dueling! I can protect them! Give me a wand!”

“That is exactly what I expect you to do,” Sirius said, unmoved. “You have the most important task. You have to keep our children safe.”

“We’re grown m . . .” Rainbow started to protest.

“No! And that’s final,” Sirius snapped, his magic rolling off him in waves. “This is not open for discussion.”

“But . . .” Twilight started.

“Give me a wand!”

“No! Stay!” Sirius thundered.

“We’re not do . . .” Rainbow growled.

“Stay!”

Twilight sighed, handing Bella her wand. “Fine. We’ll do it your way this once.”

“At least take Marble. She can protect you,” Pinkie added.

Nissy looked in the corner at the cowering woman. “Or not,” she said before turning toward Ted. “What did we miss?”

“The Crusaders happened.” Rainbow informed her. “Mr. Loudmouth here won’t let us go help with the cleanup.”

“He’s right in this case,” Grace said. “You need to think of your children.”

“You humans have got it so backward,” Twilight grumped. “Even with us being pregnant.”

“Ooooo! This is powerful.” Bella swished her reluctant acquisition a few times. “Let’s go kill something!”

The teacher’s lounge at Hogwarts was starting to resemble the staging room for a major operation. Though, to be fair, that was exactly what it was becoming. The atmosphere was already grim as specialists poured out of the floo, and it was only getting more so as the preliminary scouting reports all came back negative.

“This is ridiculous.” Amelia spoke up after receiving an all-clear patronus from the third team scouring the halls of the castle itself. “We need more information.”

“That’s a given,” Professor Snape snarked from where he was standing between his two wives. “It’s not like we have half the DMLE crawling around the castle with no idea what they are searching for.”

“I’ve sent Lord Black and a few men to question the first-years,” Scrimgeour stated. “Answers should be forthcoming.”

“Good idea.”

“It shouldn’t be long,” Scrimgeour continued. “Even if they are panicked, interviewing a bunch of children can’t be that hard.”

“I sincerely fear we must promptly rally; for truly Murphy’s scoreboard just got a tally.”

“Phst,” Scrimgeour scoffed. “Now you’re just being silly. They are only children after all.”

Sighing, Applejack licked her finger before miming drawing another tally mark for Murphy in the air.

“What in the bloody blue blazes was that?” Sirius demanded staring at the mangled form of the auror who had taken the initiative of knocking on the trunk that was supposed to contain the Crusaders. It had already taken longer than he had hoped to get this far as they had had to convince the rest of the students to remove the barricade.

“That,” said a curse breaker, who had decided to tag along, “was a textbook example of a defensive trap.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Yes,” said the healer who had rushed to the unfortunate victim. “It looked a lot more vicious than it actually was. I’ll have him up and about in a minute or two.”

“Where did they learn that?” an AFO asked. “Is that something they teach here?”

“In the restricted section, if I don’t miss my guess,” said Sirius. “And no, that is not part of the standard curriculum.”

“Someone check and see if there are any more nasty surprises,” the AFO suggested.

The curse breaker was waving his wand. “I’ve already removed two more, just let me finish up the last one and we’ll be good.”

“That was fast,” the AFO noted.

“It’s all rather amateurish.” The curse breaker shrugged. “Effective only if you don’t know what you are looking for.”

“I’m feeling old,” Sirius said. “My first thought was to shudder at what they’ll get up to once they get a little practice.”

“Welcome to adulthood,” the healer muttered, helping the auror to his feet.

“It should be safe to knock now.” the curse breaker said, lowering his wand.

“Well go ahead then,” added the AFO, gesturing at the wizard.

The curse breaker shook his head. “You might still need me, and there is the slim chance I missed something.”

“I’m starting to understand this response to a bunch of worked up children.” the AFO grumbled as he took a few steps forward to rap on the top of trunk. He gagged as a hidden pressure plate triggered a spray of n-butyl mercaptan.

“Go ‘way!” came a voice from inside.

“Lavender!” Sirius spoke up as the auror doused his AFO partner with tomato juice. “Open the lid immediately! We need to ask you some questions.”

“Is it safe?” came Neville’s question.

“You haven’t gotten in yet?” Professor Snape demanded as he and his wives walked into the room.

“We’ve just gotten past the traps,” the auror said a little shakily. “For the record, the rumors attached to these kids are not exaggerated.”

“Open up!” Sirius demanded again, ignoring the banter in the background. There was a soft click before the lid popped open. “That’s better,” Sirius said before descending the now-exposed stairway.

Soon, everyone was standing in a comfortably-appointed sitting room, glaring as the children cowered at the attention.

“Not to burst your bubble, but what is the new trouble?” Zecora asked.

“Well . . .,” said Sweetie Belle.

“You see . . .” added Harry.

“It’s just . . .” finished Ginny.

“Girls!” Applejack snapped. “And Boys! Out with it!”

“Well,” Hermione dithered. “We just thought.” She broke off, trying to figure out how to explain the situation.

The adults all continued to glare as the children fidgeted.

Applejack sighed. “Ah kin already tell this is going to be a doozy. Please tell us so we kin fix whatever needs a fixin’.”

Apple Bloom spoke up. “Harry was telling us about his friend Hagrid. Well, we all knew him, met him may a times. But we got ta thinking, since he loves animals so much, we should introduce him ta Fluttershy.”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Seamus added.

“I’ve met Fluttershy; she’s a dear,” Sirius said. “And I know Hagrid; he may look scary, but he’s harmless.”

“Ya’ll have nothin ta fear from Fluttershy.” Applejack nodded. “She’s hoofey in a pinch, but she don’t go looking fer no trouble.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “We thought the same thing.”

“They hit it off really well,” Parvati noted.

“Too well,” Scootaloo added.

“They started talking,” Sweetie Belle said.

“And we started backing away,” Luna said.

“Those two are scary together,” Abagail stated.

“I don’t see how,” Sirius said. “True, Hagrid can be a little enthusiastic when it comes to his creatures, but . . .”

“Likewise, with Fluttershy.” Applejack chuckled. “She kin get along with tha most surprisin’ O’ beasties.”

“Tell me about it.” Sirius chuckled. “She had tea with the boggart in the cellar. Don’t ask me how that’s possible.”

“I’ve seen Hagrid wrestling with a hidebehind on the forest edge before. Broke his heart when the Ministry insisted that the thing had to be relocated,” said the auror.”

“I am not sure if anybody should care, but Fluttershy is friends with a big bear.”

The adults in the room all stopped as a thought hit them at the same time, and eyes grew wide with understanding.

“Oh no,” the curse breaker whispered. “There are two of them.”

“They were discussing how to teach acromantulas how to dance the tango when we made a break for it.” Ron shuddered.

“I see I am going to be spending the entire night brewing calming potions.” Professor Snape sighed.

It was a rather large group that headed to the gameskeeper’s hut. More than one person was grumbling how everyone had gotten worked up over nothing, and at least one witch was grumbling that there was nothing to get worked up over.

Scrimgeour, therefore, may have been a bit rough when he banged on the door of the hut. “Hagrid! Are you in there? We’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Yeah, I’m here. Jus’ o’ sec,” came the voice of the half-giant just before the door was opened. “Oh’ there sur’ o’ lot of ye,” he said, taking in the small crowd outside his home. “How kin I be o’ help?”

“Hagrid, we’ve really don’t have anything of import . . . Sweet Merlin! WHAT IS THAT!?” Scrimgeour replied.

“Do you like?” Fluttershy asked from inside the building. “Discord just got him for us. Isn’t he cute?”

“Cute!!!!????” came the cry from several in the party.

“How many eyes does that thing have?” Sirius demanded.

“And the tentacles?” Bella added before dropping.

“Did Bellatrix just faint?” someone demanded.

“I think it’s the meds she’s on,” Sirius said. “Or the potions.”

“Wait! She had a wand! Who gave Bellatrix a wand?”

“Forget the wand! What is that thing?”

“’Ere now.” Hagrid said. “It’s mostly harmless. Don’t be getting’ him excited now.”

“Seriously! Who gave Bellatrix a wand!”

“Are those claws on the end of its tentacles?”

“They look like hooks.”

“How many teeth does it have?”

“Teeth! How many mouths does it have?”

“Bellatrix fainted!”

“It’s furry and has big eyes. I can kind of see how someone could think it cute.”

“Hagrid called it ‘mostly harmless’. That’s the same way he describes a full-grown dragon!”

“She fainted! Bellatrix fainted!”

“And she has a wand!”

“Is it growing?!”

“Those ain’t tha teeth o’ a herbivore!”

“I see the theme; we should not scream.”

“It’s definitely growing!”

“How many teeth does it HAVE?”

“Calm down, everyone!” Hagrid requested.

“You’re scaring him,” Fluttershy said; she really needed to learn how to raise her voice.

“Bellatrix has a bloody wand!”

“Would you stop worrying about that? She’s out cold.”

“I never thought I’d say it, but she’s the only sane one here!”

“WHAT IS THAT THING!”

“Where did it come from!”

“Look out! It’s attacking!”

“The tentacles! Watch the tentacles!”

“Let me throw a Bella at it!”

“With the wand?”

“Yes, with the bloody wand!”

“You’re scaring him,” Fluttershy repeated. She wasn’t heard that time either; though to be honest it had less to do with her lack of volume and more to do with the fact that was when the screaming really started.

The next few minutes were a blur, and several people spent the night in St. Mungo’s. To be fair, the main lesson they all learned is while the quality of mercy is not strained, when pushed too far, Kindness is downright terrifying.

Oh… and it was generally acknowledged that the Crusaders did have something resembling survival instincts though no one could really define it better than that.

Chapter 34: Breifings, Bounc... Hey, What Happened to my Mango?

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The aurors' ready room was a marvel of wizarding physics. It was ordinarily a relatively cozy space, enough for a standard squad of eight. However, as more space was needed, a simple charm could double the size. With the all-hands meeting that had been called, this had been repeated until the entire DMLE could be accommodated. This was far from standing room only; with the exception of the raised dais at the front of the room, every square inch of floor space was covered by some form of seating. Given the variability in delays from the published meeting time, the wizards were not inclined to stand in anticipation. Instead, they preferred to use the chair conjuring charm that was part of the standard Hogwarts curriculum so that they could recline instead. To be honest, not everyone was quite so relaxed, but with seating ranging from wingback chairs, to overstuffed beanbags, to simple stools and even cloaked loveseats that promoted propagation, everyone had made seating to fit their mood. Thus, when Amelia entered, she found her way blocked by officers lounging in a vast array of colorful cushioned comfort.

As she cleared her throat, her subordinates quickly rectified the situation and did their best to appear professional.

“Finite!”

“Finite Incantatem!”

*Whump!*

“You could have let me stand up first!”

“Next time, just banish your own seat!”

Hiding a smirk, Amelia strode to the podium with the majestic grace and dignity of an emperor penguin failing a field sobriety test. Once the room had come to order, she spoke up. “Let us make this quick.” She said, “We all have jobs to do, but it is imperative that some general information be shared to avoid future mishaps.”

Once she was sure she had everyone’s undivided attention, she flicked her wand, and a large white screen unrolled itself from the ceiling. Amelia nodded, and some muggle technology was used to make a pair of images appear on the newly revealed surface. Some magic may have been employed as well, since the room hadn’t needed to be darkened for everyone to get a clear view.

“This,” Amelia said, gesturing with her wand, “is Knight Elemental Fluttershy in both her human and pony forms.”

“Daaaaaw!” cooed more than one of the assembled humans.

“To be more specific,” Amelia said, ignoring the outburst, “she is Knight Elemental, Kindness.”

Members of the combined wizard and muggle law enforcement continued to coo.

“She looks harmless,” Amelia continued.

“That’s an understatement,” someone ventured.

“I was thinking 'gorgeous'… at least her human form,” added another.

“As I was saying.” Amelia raised her voice slightly. “She looks harmless, and if you encounter her, you will be tempted to focus on the ‘Kindness’ portion of her title. We are here today so that I can inform you that the ‘Knight Elemental’ part is no laughing matter.”

Quiet met that statement until someone had the nerve to say, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Amelia said with a grim nod. “As the name implies, 'Knight Elemental' wields the element in combat."

Snickering filled the room. "Kindness? In combat?"

Amelia shrugged. "Even love can be a lethal weapon. Fair warning, if you happen to be both stupid and cruel enough to engage her in hostilities, you will be spending the night in St. Mungo's.”

Stunned looks were the response she got for that statement.

“After you are discharged and somehow survive the crushing guilt for your vile actions, you will most likely find her husband waiting for you.” Amelia continued, projecting an image of a horridly mismatched wizard. “And that is a whole new level of ‘Sweet Merlin, I bollixed that, badly.’”

Muttering swept through the officers in attendance.

“Assuming that you are unlucky enough to survive that particular encounter,” Amelia fixed the room with a hard glare. “it will be my turn, and I will make your life a living hell.” She paused to let her statement sink in. “Are there any questions?”

“No ma’am.” An officer answered for the crowd. “The message, ‘do not annoy the adorable little yellow pony’ is well and truly received.”

“She may not be a five X creature, not being a known wizard killer, but trust me, wrestling a nundu nude and without your wand would be a wiser pastime,” Amelia emphasized. “If she has cause to glare at you, you are going to wish you were facing a basilisk.”

The director waved her wand again and the images changed to a pretty white unicorn and a beautiful purple-haired woman.

“This is Knight Elemental, Generosity.” Amelia said. “She is the one who broke every bone in Albus Dumbledore’s body -- twice. She is also Lord Greengrass’ second wife. Any questions?”

A wave of ‘no ma’ams’ rose from the assembly.

Amelia nodded before waving her wand again. This time an orange Stetson-wearing pony and blonde with huge tracts of land graced the screen. “Knight Elemental, Honesty,” Amelia said. “Confirmed to have the ability to put you through a two-foot-thick stone wall if you push her past her limits. Any questions?”

Another round of ‘no ma’ams’ was had.

Nodding again, Amelia changed the display. “Knight Elemental, Magic,” she said when a purple unicorn and her human form were displayed. “If she bursts into white hot flames, fleeing is advised. She has also, on one occasion, transfigured a wizard into a toad, a transformation that could not be reversed by medical personnel, I might add. Any questions?”

“No ma’am” was once again heard from all.

Amelia’s gaze turned to stone as she changed the display once more. “Knight Elemental, Laughter, Pinkie Pie Black.” She said sternly, “We are not going to learn what happens when she gets mad. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am!” was the chorus.

“We are not exactly sure what she is capable of.” Amelia admitted. “More worryingly, we are not exactly sure of what she is not capable of.”

Seeing that her audience was properly impressed, Amelia changed the images once more.

“Knight Elemental, Loyalty.” She said, “We infer from her braggart nature that she is the weakest of the Knight Elementals and is therefore confrontational to mask her insecurities. That being said, she does bear the Knight Elemental rank and is not to be taken lightly. It also needs saying that these individuals are extraordinary examples for ponies. Many of you can already attest to their rank-and-file members having prowess comparable to that of an average wizard. Whereas, we have further intelligence stating these knights are the ponies their princesses turn to in times of trouble. As far as we know, there are only six of them. However, if, say, hypothetical Knight Elemental Snuggle Bunny puts in an appearance, I would strongly suggest that each and every one of you treat that individual with the utmost respect.”

The next exhibit was two group shots. One was of young human children in Hogwarts robes, the other, a jumbled pile of pint-sized ponies. “These,” Amelia said, “are the current crop of first year Gryffindors. They are also collectively known as the Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

At the sight of them, Laughter glibly romped through the amassed officers.

“Where did the pink pony come from?” someone asked in shock.

“I’m pretty sure that’s one of the Knight Elementals,” said someone else.

“Did she apparate?”

“I didn’t hear an apparition pop.”

“Hello, everyhuman.” Pinkie stood on her hind legs and happily waved.

“Lady Black,” Amelia called out from the podium. “What brings you here today?”

“I don’t know.” Pinkie shrugged. “It just felt like my cue.”

“I see,” Amelia said. “And may I ask exactly what it was you thought you were doing just now?”

“I was glibly romping through the amassed officers.” Pinkie said. “Duh.”

“You were glib… Why?” Amelia asked.

Pinkie pointed up with a hoof. “Because that’s what the narrator says.” She then looked up and squinted. “Wait a sec. I misinterpreted that sentence. My bad.”

“What?” Amelia and several others asked.

“Got to go,” Pinkie said as she trotted out the door. “See ya.”

There was much blinking after the pony left the room.

“What just happened?” an AFO asked after a while.

Amelia sighed and placed her hand over her face. “That was just Pinkie being Pinkie.”

“What?” asked the AFO. “Are you serious?”

“No, that would be my…”

“Lady Black!” Amelia snapped. “Please!”

“What?” Pinkie sank back down onto all four hooves after having been on her back pair. “It needed to be said.”

“No,” Amelia said. “That joke is so tired that a crate full of pepper up wouldn’t do it any good.”

“Didn’t you just walk out that door?” an auror asked.

“Yuppers.” Pinkie nodded. “Look, I’ll do it again.” With those words, she trotted out the doorway once more. However, before she was gone, everyone heard her mutter. “Somepony needs to be more careful with that shift key.”

“As many of you may have surmised.” Amelia said after the door was closed. “That was Knight Elemental, Laughter. The term, ‘security risk’ doesn’t even begin to cover what she’s been observed capable of. Furthermore, as I stated earlier, we are not going to find out what she does when she’s angry. I for one, have galleons on such an incident giving us a new definition for the term ‘death by chocolate’.”

With those words Amelia did a quick scan of the room, then took the time to search behind her podium. Looking up again she noticed a heavy-set Korean auror in the front of the crowd wearing a bowler. With a flick of her wand, she summoned the hat, looked inside and even shook it a few times. Satisfied, she banished the metal-brimmed accessory back to the man.

“What did you do that for?” The auror asked as he caught his headgear.

“Past experience, Random Task,” Amelia said, scanning the room one last time.

“She couldn’t be hiding inside my bowler.” The auror chuckled.

“The phrase you are looking for is ‘shouldn’t be able to, yet somehow does anyway’.” Amelia corrected.

“Oooo,” stated the auror, looking inside his own hat.

“Right.” Amelia said, standing straighter. “Back to the subject at hand. These are the Cutie Mark Crusaders.” She pointed to the images once more.

“A bunch of kids?” The newest AFO who had transferred in that morning, forgot his place and called out.

“Newbie!” shouted somebody in the back.

Ignoring the dig, the AFO continued. “What are they going to do? Sic a dragon on us?”

Amelia sent the man an incredulous look. “Funny you should mention such a thing. They’ve been known to do exactly that.”

Professor McGonagall wasn’t known for being late for class. However, with the additional responsibilities she now held, it was inevitable that it happened occasionally. Therefore, it was a rare occurrence for her students to be in the room, waiting on her instead of the other way around. She was only mildly surprised to find every one of them doing so sitting on top of their desks.

“I see,” Professor McGonagall said as she made her way toward her own desk, amused but not impressed. “How did you manage this?”

“Some of us don’t need our rings to transform anymore,” Miss Brown said. “Basically, it was only the Ravenclaw boys who are new to it.”

“I’ve got wings!” Mr. Corner called out to the class, brandishing his new appendages.

“Do not let Extra Security see those.” Professor McGonagall advised with a sigh. When she reached her desk, she continued. “On that note, you should all be made aware that due to recent developments, being an animagus is no longer an automatic outstanding for your N.E.W.T.S.” She looked around the classroom. “For obvious reasons. So do not slack in this class.”

Bitter Ring was not sure what to make of her new duty station. It had recently become a prerequisite for a posting at the palace; thus, it wasn’t an opportunity to be denied when it arose. Still, she didn’t see how the newly half-built facility was supposed to prepare her for being a palace guard. The locals were friendly and welcoming enough, a trait she heard was in direct opposition to the attitudes the stuck-up nobles around the palace held.

In truth, it had been boring so far. Mostly boring, actually, with only a few highlights. She spent her days standing to the side of the entrance to the compound, staring at trees with the occasional pony traffic. But basically, it was trees as far as the eye could see. She had been told that would be her task until she was ready to join the patrols. The criteria for deciding when she was thus qualified had never been disclosed. So, yes, boring. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for being a palace guard and this boredom was the way they weeded out those too antsy to stand around the palace all day long.

She was so bored that she decided to check out a book from the local library just to break the monotony. Maybe she could find something to point her in a direction that would allow her to join the patrols. That brought her to her current situation.

“I’d like to check this out,” Bitter Ring said, laying a book on the desk. She was only slightly surprised when a form requesting her personal information was slid toward her. Sighing, Bitter Ring took a quill into her mouth and started the tedious task of paperwork. She was only halfway done when she couldn’t take it anymore. Spitting out the quill she turned to the next pony in line who looked to be a local resident. “Your librarian is an owl,” she said accusingly.

“Who!”

“You,” Bitter Ring stated plainly.

The stallion she had so abruptly addressed blinked and chuckled before saying. “The owl is not what he seems; actually, he’s just the assistant.”

“Assistant?” Bitter Ring asked skeptically.

“Yes.” The stallion nodded. “Truth be told, our librarian has been shirking her duties. Owlicious has become a regular feature around here.”

“But… an owl,” Bitter Ring pressed.

“Yes.” The stallion repeated as if daring her to say something more.

“Whatever.” Bitter Ring turned around once more to pick up her discarded quill. “After the snake, I really can’t be bothered by an owl.”

It was at that time a senior guardspony, who happened to be observing the exchange, spoke up. “Private what is your name?” He asked. “I’ll be telling your sergeant that you are ready to join the patrols.”

Remus looked more than a little ruffled when he wandered into the sitting room, finding his best friend reading the Daily Prophet. “Sirius,” he asked, “what exactly is that purple potion, Bella takes regularly?”

“Do I look like a healer to you?” Sirius replied without looking up.

“Well, whatever it is, they need to cut back on the dosage,” Remus complained.

“Why’s that?” Again, Sirius refrained from looking up.

“Because, I can only take so many pepper up potions.” Remus replied. “Whatever that potion is, it is making Bella really affectionate. She’s wearing me out!”

“Is that why she just sauntered through here with a smug look on her face?” Sirius asked unnecessarily.

The class had progressed without much difficulty, despite the first half devolving into a lesson on changing a matchstick into a needle while in pony form. Even that wouldn’t have been an issue if Mr. Boot hadn’t tried using his newly acquired horn. Luckily his wand had a heartstring core so that was one obstacle handily avoided.

When the bell signaling the end of the session rang, everyone was already back in their human forms and thus, only the usual chaos prevailed as the students packed their bags in preparation for leaving. As they were engaging in that activity, Professor McGonagall spoke up. “Do not forget to leave your homework on my desk.” She reminded the children.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” Mr. Weasley spoke up before retrieving a parchment from his bag. He snapped his fingers and was suddenly standing next to the teacher’s desk where he deposited his work assignment. Then he snapped his fingers again and was instantly next to his own desk.

“Ron, stop showing off,” Miss Granger scolded.

Professor McGonagall blinked then turned to address the nearest Gryffindor. “Mr. Discord?” she asked.

“Yes.” Confirmed Mr. Potter. “He said we could hold onto it as family magic, or in this case, herd magic.”

“He did, now did he?” Professor McGonagall winced.

“He sure did,” Miss Bates said, stuffing her book into her bag. “It was really nice of him.”

“Alright, let’s head out,” Miss Bloom called out. “Bye Professor.” With that, she snapped her fingers and was gone.

This was followed by several more snapping fingers, then the room was devoid of Gryffindors.

Sighing, Professor McGonagall made her way to her own desk and took a muggle device out of one of the lower drawers. With yet another sigh, she pressed the stop button.

Draco looked at the scorch marks on the castle wall and sighed. “You really shouldn’t be able to breathe fire in your human form,” he told his cousin.

Spike put a hand behind his head and gave a sheepish grin. “Believe it or not, it is actually harder to control when I’m like this.”

“Oh, I believe it,” said Silver Spoon. “You need to practice your control.”

“How does one practice not breathing fire when spooked?” Spike questioned.

“Yeah, we’ll just strike sneaking up behind you and shouting ‘boo’ from the list of approved activities,” Ralph quipped.

“Someone is losing points for this.” Diamond Tiara commented offhandedly, looking at an abashed Tracey.

The Muggle Studies Professor blinked and found that he was hugging something white and cuddly. It took a few seconds for the situation to register before he gasped and quickly took a few steps back.

“So, who tickled Spike this time?” Celestia asked with a smirk.

“I heard someone shout ‘boo’ just before I was engulfed in flames,” the Muggle Studies Professor stated with a shake of his head.

“Ah, I see,” Celestia said eyeing the new human in the room. “We were just getting ready to adjourn for lunch. Would you care to join us?”

Lunch wasn’t anything special that day, with the sole exception of the addition of mangoes to the menu. This led to an interesting development or two. From where she was sitting, Professor McGonagall could see Miss Parkinson somehow hunched over a platter of the fruit while munching away. It was notable that there was a vacant circle of self-preservation around her as her housemates were known to harbor that trait.

Surprisingly, there was a similar area around Misses Lovegood and Bates at the Gryffindor table, where the two were sharing a platter of their own, sharing being a relative term since mutually protecting from everyone else was a better description.

At the Hufflepuff table, Torin and his friend from Ravenclaw were doing something similar, which was an oddity for his house, which was known for its sharing.

With trepidation, Professor McGonagall turned toward the Ravenclaw table and saw that Mr. Corner had somehow acquired three full platters of the fruit and had a similar no-go zone around himself.

His housemates were looking at him in shock, and Professor McGonagall distinctly heard one of them say. “Ooookaaaaay… it would appear we have another bat-pony.”

“He growled at me when I scolded him for coming over and stealing our platter,” a girl complained.

“Scary,” added another, waggling her fingers for emphasis.

Sighing, Professor McGonagall turned and looked at Extra Security, who was in turn eyeing Mr. Corner in a calculating manner, ignoring the mango platter sitting in front of her.

“Don’t even think of it.” Professor McGonagall warned her.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Extra Security said.

“I mean it,” Professor McGonagall said sharply.

“We are not going to risk anyone getting upset,” Extra Security said dismissively.

Professor McGonagall sighed again; she was doing a lot of that today. “He’s going to get an invitation to spend the summer in Equestria.”

“Him and his parents.” Extra Security nodded. “And any siblings he may have.”

“Was this what you had in mind when you suggested mangoes be added to the menu?”

Extra Security gave her a look asking if she were mental. “I am a thestral.”

Professor McGonagall glared at her.

“Don’t worry; concerning the colts and fillies, we are not going to cross any of the lines you have set for us,” Extra Security stated, bringing the conversation back in line.

“See that you don’t,” Professor McGonagall said primly.

“It is much more beneficial if we work with you.” Extra Security nodded happily. “Thanks to our stall in Diagon Alley, the fact that humans are ready all year round, and what your doctors call a frankly ridiculous fertility rate, we have twenty-seven mares pregnant at this time.”

“Yes,” Professor McGonagall said. “I am well aware of your predicament and why you so readily cede to our demands.” She took a bite of her own meal, and swallowed before continuing. “I understand that you were the one to suggest that Professor Snape stay in her human form for the duration of her pregnancy.”

“Yes.” Extra Security nodded. “The children of pony/zebra unions are often unable to have foals of their own. Hopefully, her staying human will alleviate that problem.”

“An understandable precaution,” Professor McGonagall admitted. “How very altruistic of you.”

“I wish I could claim as much. This increases the likelihood of another viable foal with bat pony genes, and the suggestion bought me a lot of good will from their herd.” Extra Security continued to watch Mr. Corner attack his, and everyone else’s mangoes. “Being in Applejack’s good graces is also a desirable position.”

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to become intimate with another wall,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I would very much love to forget that day.”

“Then the lesson would be lost.”

“No chance for an obliviate, then?” Extra Security asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Pity that.”

“It is a policy not to obliviate injuries when stupidity is a factor,” Professor McGonagall said.

“So harsh.” Extra Security pouted before finishing with. “Don’t even think of it. Touch that and fingers will be broken”

Professor McGonagall looked down and saw that Professor Goodman’s hand had been inching toward the mango platter. The male Professor Goodman that is; the whole instant marriage thing was playing havoc with the naming conventions around the school.

“Don’t threaten my stallion,” Berrytwist growled.

“His fingers… your fingers… I don’t care which,” Extra Security stated.

“Keep a civil tongue,” Professor McGonagall said. “Else, I will ensure that mangoes cease to be a menu option.”

“But…” Extra Security sputtered. “They are mangoes!”

“This is getting ridiculous,” Professor Goodman said, the female one this time. “Accio mango!” Marcy then deposited the fruit on Richard’s plate. “There you go.”

“Hey!” Mr. Corner complained loudly.

“You’ll get sick if you eat all of those.” Professor Marcy Goodman told him.

“Totally worth it,” Mr. Corner said, and Professor McGonagall noticed Misses Lovegood and Bates nodding their heads in agreement.

Standing abruptly, Professor McGonagall called the attention of the entire hall. “Students.” She declared “New rule. Those of you of thestral persuasion shall be forthwith limited to four mangos per meal. Mr. Corner, since you have well exceeded that limit, you are done. You as well, Miss Parkinson. And don’t think I’ve forgotten those of you at the Hufflepuff table. Miss Bates, cease stuffing those in your carry all, that was not an invitation for you to horde them for later. Miss Lovegood, what happened to the pile that was right in front of you a second ago?”

“They’re in my hair.”

“In your… did Lady Black teach you that?”

“No ma’am.”

“Then how?”

Miss Lovegood shrugged. “It seemed like a good time to learn.”

“Miss Parkinson, you just heard me telling Miss Bates not to do that. Do not think you are exempt. Put them back on the platter.” Professor McGonagall turned her attention back to the Hufflepuff table. “Shrinking them and stuffing them in your pockets shall not be allowed either.”

“I take it back.” Marcy said. “It isn’t getting ridiculous, it’s already there.”

“Miss Security!” Professor McGonagall caught her with her hand midway to her own bag. “I was just berating the students for doing that. What kind of example do you think you are providing?”

“Um… proper foraging techniques?”

It wasn’t long after classes were done for the day when Professor McGonagall summoned the first-years of her house. She wasn’t surprised, despite being a little dismayed when they literally popped into her office.

“Y'all wanted to see us Professor?” Miss Bloom asked for the group.

“Yes,” Professor McGonagall said from where she was standing in front of her desk. “First of all, when it comes to apparition, it is rude to appear inside someone’s personal space. In the future, the same concept shall apply to your new ability.”

“Yes ma’am,” Miss Bloom said respectfully, as Professor McGonagall surveyed the remaining Gryffindors. She noticed that Miss Lovegood was looking a bit too smug.

“Just a moment Miss Bloom.” Professor McGonagall said swishing her wand. “Accio mango.”

*Pop!*

“Miss Lovegood,” Professor McGonagall said placing the fruit on her desk, “I thought I asked you to remove all the mangos from your hair.”

“I may have missed one.” Miss Lovegood replied.

“Accio mango.”

*Pop!*

“Accio mango.”

*Pop!*

“Accio mango.”

*Pop!*

“Accio mango.”

*Pop!*

With a sigh, Professor McGonagall glanced down at the three mangos on her desk before continuing.

“Accio mango.”

*Pop!*

“Accio mango.”

*Pop!*

“Accio mango.”

*Pop!*

After a sudden thought, she stopped mid-cast. Slowly, she looked down and saw the single mango sitting on her desk. With a frown, she turned her gaze to the rest of the Gryffindors. As a group the remaining children pointed toward one of their members.

“Um… burp?” said Miss Bates questioningly.

“Miss Bates, empty the mangoes from your bookbag onto my desk.”

“Awwww!”

“Now, Miss Bates.”

*Thump!* *Thump!* *Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!*

“Thank you, Miss Bates. You may return to your position.”

“Couldn’t I just have one?”

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes at the young girl. “You shall be lucky if I do not start removing points for your behavior.”

“You can have the points if I can have the mangoes.”

With a sigh, Professor McGonagall look down at her fruit-free desk. “Miss Lovegood,” she said dangerously.

“I think it might have been Dean.”

“Leave me out of this.”

“Accio all the mangoes in Miss Lovegood’s hair.” A good number of pops followed that statement. Flabbergasted, Professor McGonagall said, “These have to weigh more than you do. In fact, I am quite sure that there weren’t this many in the Great Hall during lunch.”

“I may have found the kitchens,” Miss Lovegood said dreamily.

“When it comes to mangoes, there is something seriously wrong with bat ponies,” Miss Weasley said.

Not taking her eyes off of two of the girls, Professor McGonagall summoned a house elf. A different kind of pop was heard before she said, “Hello Tiffy, would you mind relocating these somewhere wayward students cannot find them.”

“Tiffy can.” The elf nodded. “Tiffy be glad Professor Kitty be finding half of the missing funny fruit.”

“Half of? … Miss Lovegood, empty the remaining mangos out of your bag.”

“Aww!”

Not too long after that, the elf happily left with the plentiful pilfered produce.

“Children, we need to address your newly acquired disdain for the space between point A and point B. However, there needs to be one more participant for this conversation. Miss Bloom, I understand you are willing to stand and take any punishment directed toward your herd first, is that correct?”

“Yes ma’am,” Miss Bloom said warily. “If’n my herd needs… Yowwwch!” She cut off as a stinging charm hit her dead center of her chest. “What were that fer!”

“It did seem rather excessive,” Mr. Discord agreed, tilting his head and looking at the young girl.

“You really need a better way for us to get in contact with you.” Professor McGonagall tapped her wand on Apple Bloom’s chest, removing the pain. “Either that or stop ignoring my owls.”

“Ah…” Discord tapped his chin with a gloved finger. “That was rather unorthodox thinking. I must say that I approve.”

“Ah don’t. That hurt.”

“Be that as it may, Mr. Discord, we must discuss your teaching the students your particular method of transportation,” Professor McGonagall said.

“My method of transportation?” Mr. Discord tsked. “Oh no, no, no. If I did that, dear Celestia would attempt to murder me. She does seem to be of the opinion that ponies and chaos magic do not mix very well.”

“Then what, pray tell, did you teach them?” Professor McGonagall suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Well, they did ask me to teach them my method, but as I said, that was not the wisest option.”

“What did you teach them?” Professor McGonagall suppressed the urge again.

“You see, a discussion of how they could achieve their desired results in another manner was had. That was when Miss Granger mentioned that owls were doing something similar to what they wanted to do and a good portion of their herd does have wings. She really is quite brilliant.”

Professor McGonagall decided right there and then that she was going to have to break out the fire whiskey after she found out where this was headed.

“I, of course explained, that the owls were going back and forth between dimensions as well as taking advantage of the discrepancies in the time betwixt the two.”

“Betwixt?” Professor McGonagall said, caught off guard.

“Hehe,” Mr. Discord chuckled. “There really is not a word you would recognize to properly describe what I just glossed over. Suffice to say it would take several hours of lecturing and a vast expansion of your vocabulary just to achieve a marginal increase in your comprehension.”

“Could we schedule that lecture for later?” Miss Granger asked while the rest of the first-years, barring Misses Patil, Lovegood, and Belle all groaned.

“When you are older.” Mr. Discord winked before continuing his explanation. “Anyways, to copy what the owls were doing would essentially be teaching them to dimension hop, something even I consider to be a disaster waiting to happen, if not an actual disaster in of itself.”

“Discretion? From you?”

“I have no desire to explain how the backbone of time got stripped off a reality or two, just to name one possible outcome,” Mr. Discord said. “Well, truthfully, most would consider that to be impossible, but we all know what these children think of that word.”

“I do have the empty whiskey bottles to prove it.”

“Remind me to bring you a cask of Klingon blood wine; that will curl your toes.” Mr. Discord smirked. “As I was saying, the initial idea had merit but needed tempering. That was when I realized I was working with individuals who have an innate feel for two separate dimensions. I did not need to teach them to dimension hop so much as skip, so to speak. Instead of going from one spot in this dimension, traversing the distance, then ending in another, they are leaving this dimension, bouncing off Equestria and returning to a different point in their starting dimension. Thus, they gain one of the benefits of cross dimension travel while still being tied to this dimension.”

Professor McGonagall did pinch the bridge of her nose at this point. “Why would you teach children this?”

“Do you have any idea how much chaos I reap every time I give them even the tiniest of new toys? Granted they always end up with a stable balance in the long run, but I am getting a net profit.”

“Considering what Lady Black has told me of your nature, I can’t say that I can fault your logic.” Professor McGonagall continued to rub the bridge of her nose. “Wards can do absolutely nothing here. The children are just avoiding them completely.”

“True true.” Mr. Discord smirked.

“Could you not enjoy this quite so much?”

“I could not stop if I tried.” Mr. Discord continued to smirk when suddenly there was a flash of purple light and a scroll appeared floating in front of the two adults. “Ah Karma, why do you hate me so? This will probably be an attempt to teach me not to gloat.” Mr. Discord said reaching for the new object.

“What is it?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“It is from the consortium,” Discord said unrolling the scroll, “something that is not good simply on that merit alone. Let us see now, dear sir, ma’am or turg it has come to our attention that you have recently perfected a new method of travel. Unfortunately, you are not the first to use this approach, for you see it causes…” At this point Discord stopped for a few seconds to run his eyes over the next paragraph. “…eddies” he finally continued. “Which are very destructive to the surrounding dimensional fabric.”

“Wait a minute.” Professor McGonagall interrupted. “I feel that you left something out there.”

Mr. Discord nodded. “It actually says, for you see it causes harvatiuon glurb justmiculate verkub olverqayinkg kijongmun gar gibnat…”

“What?”

“Which is why I choose to paraphrase.”

“Oh.”

“Basically, it says bad things happen when you do this and this is why bad things happen,” Mr. Discord stated.

“We’ll go with eddies, shall we.”

“Yes, now where was I?” Mr. Discord turned back to the parchment. “Blah, blah, irresponsible, blah, blah, unforgivable, blah, blah, dunderhead.” He blinked at that word before continuing. “We extend this opportunity for you to remove the knowledge of this technique from all those in possession of it. If you lack the means to remove said knowledge a representative can be made available to do so. Failure to comply will force us to send dedicated assassins to ensure...” Discord stopped reading and re-rolled the scroll. “Right then, Harry may I borrow your wand.”

“Yes sir.” Harry said taking it out of its holster.

“Would they really send assassins against children?” Professor McGonagall pursed her lips in worry.

“After reading what happens with just an occasional casual use of this ability, I cannot say that they are over reacting.” Mr. Discord swished Harry’s wand a few times. “In fact, they are being more than gracious, giving us this chance to correct the problem. I shall not begrudge them the threat made without malice. Now where were we? Ah yes. Obliviate.”

A bright flash of light filled the room.

*Pop!* *Pop!* *Pop!* *Pop!* *Pop!*

Five mangoes removed themselves from Luna’s hair.

“Mr. Discord,” Luna said, stooping to retrieve the fruit. “I seem to have forgotten how to keep things in my hair.”

“I am sorry, my dear.” Mr. Discord said. “I was targeting new abilities gained within the last twenty-four hours that do not relate to classwork.”

“May I have it back?”

“I am afraid that not only did I remove the ability, I removed the capacity to relearn the ability.”

“Oh, pooh.” Luna pouted.

At those words, the scroll, which Discord was still holding, leapt to hover in midair. It bowed once before disappearing in a flash of purple light.

“That was weird.” Said Mr. Finnigan.

Discord frowned. "While it helps me barely avoid perfect order. I was not responsible for that display."

Chapter 35: Sufficiently Short on Surprises

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No matter the dimension, the first day of the weekend was always a favorite for school children. It was a day to forget about homework. It was a day to get a few extra hours of well-deserved sleep – unless, of course, there was something fun planned. When plans existed, there was no time to be wasted on sleep, regardless of what parents or neighbors might think of impromptu notifications. One quartet of boys having a sleepover was living proof of that. One of their numbers had invited the rest to join him for a glimpse of the magical world – a night in a suburban wizarding house, hiding in plain sight in a stodgy old neighborhood.

What was mundane to magicals was marvelous to muggles. In all honesty, the adults should have known better than to expect anything less than the sheer pandemonium that had ensued. There was no way the children could be sufficiently admonished for nearly giving the boggart in the basement a heart attack. The going rumor, however, was that it had been mollified by being offered the starring role in the haunted house that the boys were planning for the coming Halloween.

The quartet had found their adventure unexpectedly accelerated when, in a desperate bid to preserve her sanity, Hector’s mother had summoned Owlowiscious at 2:07 a.m. and stuffed the boys into the bird’s pouch with orders to drop them off at Sweet Apple Acres for the foreseeable future.

Big Macintosh had set them to work mucking out pens and slopping the hogs in the hours before breakfast was ready. Even knowing that humans could become quite adept at milking the cows, the large red stallion came to the conclusion that in this case the risks outweighed the rewards. Overall, youthful energy and novelty made short work of the chores.

After earning their keep, Granny Smith treated the boys to two types of pancakes – buckwheat flapjacks with butter and real maple syrup, and baked apple pancake with raisins and hints of cinnamon and cloves. There was nary a hint of artificial flavors, colors, or preservatives. The elderly green mare could not help but beam as the boys showed their appreciation for her cooking.

Swallowing his last bite, Hector said, “Granny, I’m going to show my mates around Ponyville. I want to introduce them to Crisp Lick; she’s always going on about meeting humans.”

“Ah don’t see how that could be a problem,” Granny said. “I reckon y’all would need to put in some serious effort ta cause half the trouble mah granfilly and her friends kin manage.”

“We aren’t looking to cause trouble, ma’am.” Brad, one of Hector’s friends, said. “We just want to look around.”

“Yeah,” Geoffrey said as he craned his neck over the offerings. “Hector has been saying that he can change into a pony, and he’s yet to prove it.”

“I keep telling you; my mum threatened me with a year’s worth of grounding if I do that at school.”

“Well, we aren’t at school now,” Wilbur said, munching piggishly on the last of his pancake. “Show us, already.”

“I was getting to that,” Hector said with a grin.

“Ah see somepony likes funning with his friends,” Granny said, giving Hector the eye. “Be mindful that y’all kin take it too far if’n yer not careful.”

“I just didn’t want to show off.” Hector pouted, standing up before shrinking to his pony form. “See, it isn’t that big of a deal.”

“That’s the truth.” Geoffrey stated, towering over the little unicorn. “You’re tiny,”

“He’s jus’ the right size,” Granny said, pushing herself up from the table. “Y’all wait here a sec an’ Ah’ll go rassle up some bits. Ah reckon y’all will be wanting to have yer lunch at the Sugarcube or one o’ the other cafés in town.”

It has been noted before that the residents of Ponyville were used to sights that would be considered unusual anywhere else in Equestria. Three colts playing ball as they walked down the main street really had no reason to be on that list. True, they were human colts -- something not yet seen in town, but they held a surprise factor of zero. Still, everypony couldn’t help but stop and watch as they were clearly having fun. Their ball . . . not so much.

“This isn’t funny!” Hector cried out as he caught some hang time.

“Yes, it is; you should see yourself flailing about,” Brad said as he caught the furry ball and immediately tossed it to Wilbur.

“Just you wait until I get my feet back on the ground!” Hector got out as he went from Wilbur to Geoffrey.

“We’ll just have to keep you in the air then.” Wilbur said, awaiting his turn.

“I’m gonna be sick!”

“I thought ponies could fly!” Brad retorted. “It’s good practice!”

“I’m not a pegasus!”

“Should we do something?” Hallowed Candle asked as she watched the airborne unicorn foal.

“Nah,” Taro Root said as she also watched. “I’m pretty sure this counts as colts acting like colts.”

“Isn’t it bullying?” Umber Shine asked as her head tracked the movement.

“Nah,” Taro Root repeated. “They wouldn’t be doing it in front of everypony if it were. You can tell they’re all friends.”

“You better not complain when I barf all over you!”

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Vanilla Cream said. “He doesn’t seem too upset.”

“That actually looks like fun,” Cloud Kicker commented.

“Says the mare with wings.” Cherry Blush grimaced.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Cloud Kicker countered. “He ends up in a snow bank?”

“I’m more worried that he’ll bounce off the ground a few times,” Hallowed Candle said.

“Totally worth it.” Cloud Kicker shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt that much.”

“I think we are just going to label your attitude as ‘one of those pegasus things’,” Vanilla Cream quipped.

“What are you doing to him?!” a voice near ground level yelled.

“Oh, hey there Crisp Lick. How’s it going?” Hector asked as he rode the airwaves.

“Are you all right, Hector?” the young filly asked as she watched her friend being tossed around.

“Aside from the urge to bite someone when I get down, I’m fine.”

“Crisp Lick?” Brad asked as he took his turn to lob Hector. “She’s the girlfriend you’ve been telling us about?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend who happens to be a girl.”

“Okay, this is entering familiar territory,” Taro Root muttered.

“Despite the flying unicorn colt?” Umber Shine asked.

“Some things are just universal,” Cloud Kicker said.

“Put him down!” Crisp Lick demanded, stomping a forehoof.

“We’re not going to drop him,” said Geoffrey. “You should try it.”

“I’m not going to try it! You need to stop right . . . Eeeeeeeek!” Crisp Lick found her sentence cut off as Geoffrey scooped her up, and she suddenly found herself headed toward Brad’s arms with much less ground under her hooves than was her liking.

“Okay, this is going to get out of hoof,” Umber Shine said as she watched the human colts add another ball to the rotation.

“You got to admit, it is kind of funny,” Taro Root countered.

“Eeeeek!”

“I don’t think Crisp Lick is having fun,” Vanilla Lick said.

“Just give her some time for the shock to wear off,” Cloud Kicker said.

“Totally a pegasus thing,” Cherry Blush commented.

“Eeeeeeeek!”

It was at that time that Wilbur looked down, prompted by an unexpected tapping on his leg. There was an itsy bitsy pegasus foal looking up at him with awfully big eyes -- awfully hopeful, big eyes. He looked up again in time to add momentum to both Crisp Lick and Hector before he reached down to grab what could only be a baby pony.

“Weeeeeeeeee!”

“Eeeeeeeek!”

“Oh, come on!”

“Yup, totally a pegasus thing,” Cherry Blush repeated.

“Watch the little one. He’s a whole lot lighter than the other two,” Brad commented after a throw.

“She’s a filly,” the smallest foal’s mother said from where she was watching. “You colts be careful, now.”

“Yes ma’am,” the three human colts chorused

“Weeeeeeee!”

“Eeeeek!”

“This really isn’t so bad.”

“Okay . . .” After about a minute, it was surprisingly Cloud Kicker who stepped out into the middle of the roundabout. “It’s time to stop; I can see your forelegs are starting to shake. You’re getting tired.”

“Aaaaaw!” the human colts complained, even as they immediately stopped tossing ponies around.

“You’re just too heavy, lard butt,” Geoffrey said as he sat Hector down on the ground.

“You do realize you are getting flying lessons once I learn how to control my horn,” Hector shot back.

“Whaaaa!” The pegasus baby was making her displeasure known as Brad handed her over to her mother.

“Here you go ma’am,” Brad said. “I don’t think she’s happy that we stopped.”

The mare smiled up at the boy. “She had fun. When I next need a foalsitter, I’m coming for you and your friends.”

“Um.” Brad wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Hector,” Crisp Lick said with shaky legs.

“Yes?” Hector quickly trotted over to her, making sure she didn’t fall over.

“Just so you know, your friends are gonna get bucked to the moon,” Crisp Lick said. “And back.”

“I’ll help,” Hector said as a large group of foals, who had been hiding on the sidelines, made themselves known.

“That looked interesting,” Yew Leaf, a filly from Cheerilee’s class stated bravely.

“I was thinking; terrifying,” Peppermint Twist corrected.

“It was fun,” Wilbur said, bending at the waist to make it easier to talk to the small ponies.

“Your hooves never left the ground.” Zipporwill trotted over to look up at the human.

“You have human colt friends,” Yew Leaf accused Hector as she pointed a hoof at one of the boys.

“Are they our age?” Peppermint Twist asked.

“Guys,” Brad said as he hurried over, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “We need to make a run for it before we get some babysitting jobs.”

The Muggle Studies professor was walking down the hall, chatting with two of his colleagues as the three of them enjoyed their free time.

“Ah, such a nice, peaceful, and quiet day,” the Muggle Studies professor said with his hands in his pockets.

“Great,” Berrytwist said. “You just jinxed us.”

“I hardly think so,” the Muggle Studies professor countered. “Besides, I deserve a quiet day. I am taking the seventh-years to the mall tomorrow.”

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” Berrytwist shook her head.

“His timing was a little off,” Professor Trelawney stated. “He needs some practice.”

Berrytwist sighed. “What do you . . .”

Professor Trelawney held up a hand to halt her. “Wait for it.”

Berrytwist sighed again, this time joined by The Muggle Studies professor.

A second later they heard the scream. “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“Nice doppler effect,” the Muggle Studies professor stated, looking down the hall. “I didn’t know that Miss Aloo had a scooter.”

“Me, I’m wondering how they talked Miss Granger into riding in that wagon,” Berrytwist added.

“She does have a pair of lungs,” Professor Trelawney noted.

“Oops! Pardon us, professors!”

“Okay, the thestral-drawn wagon is slower than the pegasus slash scooter-drawn one,” Berrytwist noted dryly.

“Howdy Professors!... See ya, Professors.”

“I’m surprised the pegasus-drawn wagon is in last place,” the Muggle Studies professor said.

“Technically, the first-place wagon was drawn by a pegasus,” Professor Trelawney corrected. “She just had the added benefit of the scooter.”

“Where’d they get the little red wagons?” The Muggle Studies professor mused.

“Seriously?” Berrytwist asked. “There is absolutely nothing stopping Miss Patil from teleporting wherever she likes. I’m just surprised that it took them this long to remember that flying ponies can pull wagons.”

“Hurry up, Pink Boy! We’re falling behind.”

“Seamus, I swear I’m gonna dump this thing over and you can walk! And, it’s fuchsia!”

“Oh look. Two ponies are faster than one,” Professor Trelawney observed.

Gordon had lucked out, and he knew it. Granted, he always thought he’d find a nice hen someday and settle down. Heck, his mother had drilled that requirement into him as an unavoidable fact of life. Her insistence in the matter may have lent a little toward his decision to spend some years in Canterlot. Okay, to be fair, it may have lent more than a little. After all, the odds of him finding somegriff with the desire to acquire him in a city full of ponies were pretty slim.

Tonks had been a surprise. And, wasn’t that an understatement? He had known he had liked her when he thought she was just a colorful pony. And, wasn’t that a concept in of itself? She stood out as ‘colorful’ amidst a race whose normal hues ranged from bright and cheerful all the way to diabetic seizure waiting to happen. And yet, Tonks had been sunshine compared to their moonlight. How many times had he had to remind himself that griffins don’t do herds? It had practically become his motto.

Yet it was undeniable that those words had fallen upon the deaf ears of fate. Was fate normally deaf? She was probably just ignoring him. Hens tended to do that when they didn’t want to acknowledge a valid argument.

There had been something there that everycreature around them had almost instantly recognized. No matter how much he had tried to deny it, the others wouldn’t allow the two of them to just be friends. Not that he had wanted to limit himself to that, but wow, the mothers on both sides had pulled out all stops.

Fortunately, it turned out that Tonks had similar feelings for him. In truth, odds where they would have eventually gotten together without all of the prodding. The only real obstacle had been worrying she’d back out once he let her know that griffins mated for life. It had been a relief when her reply had been that witches marry for life. After that, things had gotten intimate and Gordon had gotten a surname. Now he was living in an apartment with a pseudo herd. In truth, they were just two separate mated pairs, trying to keep Clementine out of the claws of some herd-happy mares. The good news was that they had a solid legal basis for rebuffing the desperate. The bad news was that the new arrangements were now drawing mares with more exotic tastes.

There were benefits that came with being with Tonks as well as some drawbacks. The worst of which was her second name, a name he was forbidden to utter, despite it being her personal, nonfamily specific, designation. He had tried once and that had resulted in him flying lopsided for a week; meanwhile, she had a new favorite quill for her collection. Never again would Gordon be skeptical of her qualifications for being a griffin hen.

But the pros far outweighed the cons. While he would have been happy with just the companionship, the perks of her otherworldly origins were nothing to sneeze at. Take the VCR, for example. Tonks’ father, who was also named “Tonks” but “Ted” as well as “Edward” – human names are so confusing. Anyway, the older male was more than happy to send Gordon tapes of a game called “football”. The young griffin may have become a wee bit obsessed with the humans kicking that ball around.

He was devouring the latest offering an owl had recently delivered when Tonks stepped out of their bedroom with a weird look on her face.

“Gordon,” she said, and he snapped his gaze in her direction, instantly alerted by the strange tone she had used.

He hadn’t realized he had moved from his seated position in front of the telly before he was standing a hair’s breadth from her. “Tonks! Is something the matter? Of course, something is the matter. You look like something is the matter. Are you all right? Are you hurt? You don’t look all right. I’m gonna fly you to the hospital.”

“Gordon,” Tonks said again, ruffling the feathers of her griffin form, “I’m fine.”

Gordon tilted his head in confusion. “Then what?”

“I just . . . That is . . . Look, you’d better come in here and see for yourself.”

Worriedly, Gordon followed his mate into their bedroom only to freeze in shock when he saw what was lying in the middle of their bed. “Is that an egg?”

“Yeah,” Tonks said managing to blush through her feathers. “That’s an egg.”

Gordon stared at it for a second before looking at Tonks. “Where’d you get it?”

“Where’d I get it?” Tonks’ voice was verging on shrill. “Where do you think I got it from?”

Looking back at the object, Gordon said, “It’s just . . . It’s an egg.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” Tonks growled. “Believe me when I say its appearance was a startling surprise.”

“But . . . But . . . an egg.”

“Yes, Gordon, an egg,” Tonks said. “You are going to be a father.”

“But . . . But . . . an egg!”

“Gordon, there is no other possible candidate.” Tonks was getting angry.

“But we’ve never had relations in our griffin forms,” Gordon complained.

“Two words . . . 'sharp' and 'pointy',” Tonks instantly retorted.

“Mom says that’s the best part.”

“I have some reservations about your mother.” Tonks informed him.

“Understandable,” Gordon said, looking back at the bed. “But . . . an egg?”

“Yes Gordon, an egg.”

“But . . . But . . .” Gordon took a deep breath before collecting himself. “Tonks, griffins don’t lay eggs.”

“What?” Tonks asked in surprise.

“Our fronts may be avian but our backs are all feline.” Gordon turned to look at his mate. “You know, the part with all of our reproductive pieces.”

“Griffins give live birth?”

“Yes.” Gordon nodded.

“As in, beaks and all?”

“Of course,” Gordon answered.

“What is it with Griffins and sharp items invading that region?” Tonks demanded.

“It can’t be that bad.” Gordon shrugged only to receive a withering glare from Tonks. “Okay, okay, point taken.”

“Was that supposed to be a pun?”

“No. No.” Gordon hastily assured her before turning back to look at the egg. “Aren’t we supposed to sit on it or something?”

“How should I know? Humans don’t lay eggs either.”

The pair continued to stare at their future child. “Maybe we should get a doctor to look at it.” Gordon said after a pause. “At the very least, your mother.”

“I am not looking forward to her reaction when I have to tell her about this,” Tonks said.

“I thought you cast spells to prevent pregnancies,” Gordon ventured.

“Well, apparently the charm doesn’t take egg laying into account,” Tonks huffed.

“I’m not trying to assign blame,” Gordon said slowly. ‘I’m just trying to come to terms with it all.”

“Sorry Gordon.” Tonks wilted where she stood. “It just came as a surprise. The shock hasn’t worn off yet.”

“We’re going to be parents.” Gordon stated the obvious.

“Yeah . . .” Tonks stared at the egg. “Question. Do griffin babies eat solid food or drink milk?”

“A little of both,” Gordon said. “Why do you ask?”

Tonks winced. “I just realized sharp and pointy was going to be applied to another portion of my anatomy.”

“What is with you and your fascination with those two words?” Gordon asked.

“I happen to like the thought of my flesh being unbroken.”

Gordon sighed. “I can understand that.”

“We are sooooo going with bottle feeding.” Tonks informed him.

Lord Greengrass was having a wonderful day. Truth be told, most of his days were wonderful at this point. Despite his first marriage being arranged, he had found himself with a loving and attentive partner; one who had given him two beautiful daughters. Now he was lucky enough to have two such partners, a pair of women who were as affectionate to himself as they were to each other, proving that, of all things, family was his greatest treasure.

It was, therefore, not a sacrifice to be spending the afternoon being entertained by his wives modeling fashions for him. Rarity had opened a new store in the pony city of Canterlot, and they were eager to get his opinions on some of the wares they would be offering; a pastime that was somehow both overtly cute and glamorous at the same time, since they were doing it in their pony forms.

It was starting to become incomprehensible how much he owed Lord Discord. Not only was he responsible for his youngest daughter being cured, it was also his indirect actions which led to Lord Greengrass meeting his second wife. And those weren’t the only boons the rings had ended up bestowing. Though Lord Discord had been quoted saying that he had not intentionally included such enchantments, it was apparent that the rings had an effect on fertility. Prior to the transformations, the lord and his first wife had been devastated by the news that complications with Astoria’s birth had left the lady sterile, yet here she was with child for a third time. That had been a pleasant surprise.

Currently, his women were showing off a pair of flowing gowns. The one his first wife wore was white with purple highlights, matching the coloring of his younger wife perfectly. Meanwhile, Rarity was wearing something golden, which, in turn, matched his first wife’s coat. They were beautiful, glowing with happiness and the lives that were growing within them.

It was almost a shame when the family owl appeared and started hooting for attention. Tearing his gaze away from his wives, Lord Greengrass noted that the rune on the owl’s pouch denoting passengers was glowing slightly. Almost absently, he reached out with his wand and tapped the rune. “Ex dimittere,” he commanded.

There came the expected distasteful noises as two ponies were disgorged; Linda Blair would have been proud. The first passenger was obviously male; he landed on his back with a wuff. The second, looked female as well as startled, flailing her hooves helplessly as she unintentionally headbutted the stallion’s proof of gender on her way down, playing out Tonks’ nightmare scenario.

That horn had to have hurt!

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeee!” squealed the stallion in a voice much too high for his frame.

“Mother! Father!” Rarity called out, rushing forward. “Father! Are you all right?”

“No,” squeaked the stallion in a forced soprano.

Rarity turned to her sister wife. “Call a healer,” she commanded in a no-nonsense voice.

An hour, a few spells, a barrage of potions, and a massive amount of soft tissue regeneration later saw them all sitting around a table with tea set out before them.

“Well, now that that is over with,” Rarity said using her magic to pour everyone a cup. “My dear herdmates, I’d like to introduce you to my parents, Cookie Crumbles and Hondo Flanks.”

“A pleasure,” Lord Greengrass said with a nod as Rarity went on to introduce him and his first wife.

“Please call me ‘Magnum’,” Rarity’s father said after the pleasantries. He still had a grimace on his face despite the healer assuring him he’d made a full recovery already.

“So, Mother, Father, while it is always a pleasure to see you, to what do I owe this unexpected surprise?” Rarity got directly to the point.

“What a silly question,” Cookie said. “We received a letter telling us that not only was our daughter married but was expecting a foal. Of course, we hauled tail and got our horns to Ponyville as fast as we could gallop.”

“You galloped all the way to Ponyville?” Lady Greengrass queried.

Cookie gave the golden unicorn a questioning look before answering with a chuckle. “It’s just a saying; we took the train, of course.”

“Ah,” Lady Greengrass acknowledged. “I apologize. I should have realized.”

“So, this is your stallion?” Magnum asked, eyeing the human man. “Exotic.”

“Where are my manners?” Lord Greengrass said, shrinking down into a blue earth pony. “It would be more polite for me to take this form.”

“Magnum didn’t mean anything by that,” Cookie said with a nod of approval. “Who our daughter loves has always been and always will be her decision and her responsibility.”

“I assure you; no offense was taken,” Lord Greengrass said smoothly.

“So . . .” Magnum turned toward Lady Greengrass. “Are you able to change, too?”

“Yes,” Lady Greengrass said. “I was born human, the same as our husband.”

“Human, hmm?” Cookie mused. “That explains a few things. So, our Rarity has herded with humans.”

“Yes mother,” Rarity said. “I am quite happy with the arrangement.”

“Good,” Magnum said. “As long as you are happy.”

“Which brings us to the main reason for our visit,” Cookie said with a suddenly serious tone. “Do they know?”

Rarity looked ashamed at that question as she tentatively reached out and tapped her teacup with a hoof. “Humans don’t react that way,” she said after a few seconds.

“That’s a relief,” Cookie said with a hard glare. “But you haven’t answered the question.”

Rarity continued to tap her teacup with a contemplative look on her face.

“So, we won’t be needing to take Sweetie back with us?” Magnum asked.

“No, why would you?” Lady Greengrass replied. “She is welcome here, and it wouldn’t do to interrupt her schooling.”

“We feared . . . complications,” Cookie returned warily.

“As stated, Rarity’s little sister is always welcome,” Lord Greengrass said. “There will be no complications.”

Cookie looked at the earth pony, narrowing her eyes before turning to her daughter. “You need to tell them. They are your herd, and you can’t keep secrets like that.”

“I was planning to . . .” Rarity winced. “. . . when the time was right.”

“Oh.” Lord Greengrass’ ears tilted forward as realization hit and he gave his younger wife a thoughtful gaze. “I see.”

“I’m sorry.” Rarity’s ears and face wilted. “I know I should have told you before this. It’s just . . .”

“Hush.” Lord Greengrass cut her off. “Apologies are neither warranted nor necessary.”

“You must think me a terrible mare,” Rarity said with tears in her eyes.

Lady Greengrass perked up before jumping out of her chair to hurry over and give Rarity a hug. “Oh, that’s why you were telling us those stories. You wanted to gauge our reactions. It makes sense now.”

“Truly.” Lord Greengrass nodded. “Rest assured, I would never have reacted in such a distasteful manner.”

“You would have made a wonderful Slytherin,” Lady Greengrass said, nuzzling Rarity.

“You’re not mad?” Rarity wailed as she broke out in tears.

Lord Greengrass would have been disappointed if she had done so in public, but in private, it was a different matter. With all the dignity he could muster, he left his own chair and trotted over to comfort his wives. Dignity was strained in this form as he did have to pick himself up off the ground; trotting was something he also needed to practice. “There, there.” He said after he managed to put his front hooves around his women.

“So?” Magnum asked cautiously. “We’re all good then?”

With his forelegs still encompassing the mares, Lord Greengrass turned to look at the other stallion. “Lady Rarity is my wife,” he said. “That is no mean statement. For better or for worse, her successes are my successes. Her failures are my failures. Her joys are my joys. Her woes are my woes. Her means are my means. Her troubles are my troubles. And most importantly . . .” Lord Greengrass looked between Cookie and Magnum before giving a serious smile. “Her family is my family."

He gave Rarity a kiss. "Your daughter is my daughter.”

Chapter 36: Slow Slothful Saturday

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It was quiet . . . too quiet. Grace couldn’t be happier. She knew that, by all rights, she should feel guilty about having fobbed off all of the children on the Apples. Strictly speaking, having the boys pop in unannounced had not been fair to either Big Macintosh or Granny Smith. However, Grace was sure that there were more than enough chores to let the boys work off their excess energy; after all free labour is free labour, no matter how you slice it.

Because the makers of mischief and mayhem had been banished, the occupants of stately Black Manor had been able to attend more mundane matters. Fluttershy had finally been able to put her new certification to the test as she had been summoned to placate the boggart in the basement. It had taken more than a little arm-twisting to convince the local chemist of the legitimacy of her license. It had taken practically turning him into a human pretzel to wrangle enough Fluoxetine to start an experimental series of treatments on the semi-corporeal magical being. Twilight was sure to get her report on the new therapy published in “Magical Maladies Monthly”.

The day had already settled back to routine when Owlowicious arrived just after lunch. As the bird landed on the back of a dining room chair, Twilight called out over her withers, “Grace! The colts are back!” She then turned to her pet. “Good to see you, Owlowicious. How are things going at the library?”

“Who,” said Owlowicious, nonchalantly.

“That’s good,” replied Twilight. “Is there anything that needs my attention?”

“Who.”

“Good. Good. And no pony is giving you a hard time, I hope.”

“Who.”

“That’s good as well. I suppose you’ve earned a bag of owl treats.”

“Who!”

“Or, maybe, half a bag. We wouldn’t want you getting fat or anything.”

“Who!” came the indignant reply.

“This is so surreal,” Grace said, entering the room. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over watching a purple unicorn having a casual conversation with her owl.”

“Who? Me?” Twilight looked up in surprise.

“Yes, you.” Grace smirked. “And you are even beginning to sound like your pet.”

Twilight shook her head before saying, “You should try it. Getting a pet might just be what you need.”

Grace snorted. “I have a boy. I’ll end up looking after whatever pet he may acquire.”

“You’re hoping it’ll be a dog. Aren’t you?”

“More than you can imagine,” Grace said. “If he brings home any snake, let alone a giant one, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop screaming.”

“I’m pretty sure Diamond Tiara’s pet is one-of-a-kind,” Twilight stated.

“Here’s hoping he doesn’t get creative, then,” Grace replied.

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you let his friends and him out of the pouch?”

“You haven’t already?”

“I figured you’d like the privilege.”

“You mean responsibility.”

“That, too.”

Grace smiled as she took out her wand. “What are you going to do when you have a boy of your own?”

“Panic,” Twilight said. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to do a lot of panicking -- probably some whimpering as well. I just hope he doesn’t need asbestos diapers, too.”

“At least you’re being honest about it,” Grace said placing her wand on the pouch. “Don’t worry; it really isn’t all that bad. Ex dimittere.”

The pouch made its usual sounds as it disgorged three boys and their equine accompaniment.

“How many foals is that?” Twilight asked, looking down from her chair.

“I know turnabout is fair play, but this is . . .” Grace started.

“About right.” Twilight finished for her. “I count four extra foals.”

“Oh, it’th the librarian,” Peppermint Twist said in recognition.

“He’s the one who carried us here; so, he shouldn’t be a surprise,” said Somnuther. “Perhaps we should be saying hello to the pony and the human.”

Startled, Grace said, “Wow! I never knew Bogart-Bacall Syndrome was real.” She then turned to Twilight. “You really have been slacking off at your job.”

“Who,” added Owlowicious as Twilight’s ears wilted.

“Are we really in the human world?” asked Crisp Lick.

“Yeah,” Hector confirmed.

“Eh, it’s not as exciting as ponyland,” Brad said with a shrug.

“Not true,” Wilbur countered. “We are in a magical house, remember?”

Yew Leaf shook herself before saying, “Magic, smagic. I want to see these lorries you were telling us about.”

Grace took a deep breath before saying, “Hector, I see you brought some more friends. Perhaps you’d like to introduce them?”

“Oh,” Hector said with a blush. “This here is Yew Leaf and Peppermint Twist. They are part of Cheerilee’s class.”

“Actually, I came to thee Apple Bloom and the girlth,” Peppermint Twist admitted. “I haven’t talked to them in a while; thought I’d take the opportunity.”

“I’m sorry Twist,” Twilight said. “They are at their school, which is quite a way away. You won’t be able . . . You know what? We can take the floo. I’m sure Professor McGonagall won’t begrudge you a weekend visit.”

Peppermint beamed at the indulgence.

“And this is Crisp Lick and her brother Somnuther. I’ve told you about them.” Hector finished his introductions.

“Yes, I’ve exchanged a letter or two with their mother,” Grace said with a smile. “How is she, by the way?”

“Busy,” Somnuther said.

“Cherry Berry has purchased her new broom,” Crisp Lick added. “Mom says there are some serious discussions to be had there.”

“Which is why she didn’t make too much of a fuss when we asked to go with Hector,” Somnuther finished.

Twilight said, “Hector, why don’t you show them the house? I need to write a letter to send back with Owlowiscious. Afterward, I’ll take Twist to Hogwarts, but it will take a bit of time.”

“Okay,” Hector said cheerfully. “Come on, guys; follow me!” With those words he led the children from the room.

After they had left earshot, Twilight asked Grace, “Sooooo, how does it feel to meet your future daughter-in-law.”

Grace chuckled. “You are seeing things that aren’t there.” She asserted, “They are too young to be thinking along those lines.”

“Maybe,” Twilight said, “but that filly has marked her territory. It will only be a matter of time.”

“Marked her territory?” Grace smirked. “What’d she do? Pee on my son?”

“Fillies aren’t that kind of catty, but she has marked her territory.”

“Don’t be silly,” Grace replied. “Like I said, they are too young.”

“It’s like Nymphadora with Gordon,” Twilight insisted. “That filly has marked her territory.”

Grace blinked at Twilight a few times. “You’re serious.”

“Ignoring the typical pun, yes, I am,” Twilight said. “You didn’t think Pleasant Thoughts started writing you just because she wanted a pen pal?”

“That’s absurd. They are too young.”

“And that filly has marked her territory.”

“You keep saying that,” Grace said exasperatedly.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you,” Twilight returned.

“And I still say you are being silly. They could find someone else.”

“Bigger herd that way,” Twilight agreed.

Grace sputtered, unable to find words.

“A blind mare would walk up to Hector, and she would say, ‘This colt has been marked.’” Twilight told Grace.

“They are too young,” Grace insisted.

“They are.” Twilight nodded. “Nothing inappropriate is going to happen anytime soon, but that filly has marked her territory.”

“Is that normal for ponies?”

“A filly doesn’t usually get this lucky that early,” Twilight said. “But it is not unheard of.”

“I don’t believe you.” Grace actually stomped a foot. “Like I said, you’re just see . . .”

That’s as far as she got before a shrill scream shook the house.

“And . . .” Twilight said, “. . . they made a beeline right for the boggart.”

“Fluttershy is going to be so upset.” Grace sighed.

Sirius and Remus were the first to arrive in the basement and were amused to find the children confronting a very large snake.

“So,” Remus asked, putting his wand away, “whose biggest fear is Diamond Tiara’s pet?”

Three foals lifted their hooves in acknowledgement.

“Eh,” Twist said. “He’th nowhere near as big ath the original.” She turned toward Hector. “I thought you thaid thith would be tharry.”

“He did scream,” Hector retorted. “I’ll wager he took a fright at the very least.”

“I’m scared,” Yew Leaf said. “Does that count?”

“You’re not running away in terror,” Nissy said, entering the room. “It’s obvious that you’ve been spending a lot of time in Ponyville.”

“Is it possible for a boggart to have a nervous breakdown?” Sirius asked Remus as he studied the shaking, large pseudo-reptile.

“I have the feeling we are about to find out.” Remus shrugged. “For a house with a boggart, Riddikulus gets remarkably little use around here.”

“Why’s he so small?” Bella asked as she sauntered in.

“I guess he does have his limits.” Remus shrugged.

“Since when is an elephant-sized snake considered small?” Geoffrey asked. “That’s a big snake.”

“That’s not a big snake,” Crisp Lick countered. “Diamond Tiara has a big snake.”

“Crocodile Dundee flashback anyone?” Bella asked her second question.

“You’ve been watching too many of Ted’s videos,” Sirius noted.

“I can’t believe the children are still harassing the boggart,” Nissy said.

“I can’t believe the children are capable of harassing the boggart,” Alice Longbottom noted as she arrived.

The large snake whimpered piteously at being ignored.

“I sent Owlowicious for Fluttershy,” Twilight said as she put in an appearance. “It shouldn’t be too long before she comes a-flapping.”

“I’ve got to say,” Ted said when he arrived to observe the boggart, “whatever she got from the chemist is doing something. He hasn’t fled back into his hidey hole yet.”

“How do we know he’s a he?” Bella asked.

“I don’t know,” Nissy said. “How do you tell the gender of a boggart?”

“Do they even have genders?” Remus added.

“Eh, this is getting boring,” Hector said. “Come on; I’ll show you the potion’s lab.” With that, he and the rest of the children left.

“Is that safe?” Ted asked as he watched them leave.

“Should be,” Twilight answered with a shrug. “It’s not like Sweetie Belle is in there or anything.”

It was a dank, slimy recess of the castle where the small, white, well, at the moment, mostly white, unicorn sneezed suddenly.

“You okay?” Parvati asked in response to the sudden noise.

“Yeah, just got something in my nose for a second there,” Sweetie Belle replied. “Hoof me the pipe wrench, and we’ll be cooking with gas.”

“Twist!” Twilight yelled from her spot standing next to the fireplace. “Come along; it’s time to go!”

“You’ve got the yelling at children in the next room aspect of parenting down pat,” Grace commented, also in her unicorn form.

“I’ve had good role models,” Twilight said. There came the sounds of hooves on wooden flooring completely masking those of small human feet.

“Already?” Wilbur asked as almost every child in the house came to see one of their own off. “Are we losing one of our little ponies so soon?”

“I’ll have her back by supper,” Twilight promised.

Meanwhile, Grace was looking back and forth between Crisp Lick and her son. After a few rotations she turned to look at Twilight while pointing a hoof at the pair. “Ah?” she asked.

“Oh.” Twilight looked at the other mare, prancing in place. “You can sense it now! Wow! This opens a whole new level of understanding! Do you have to be a pony to see it? Or now that you’ve seen it, will you be able to while human? Don’t tell them; they haven’t figured it out yet. Statistically, it’ll be years! Isn’t it wonderful? There really hasn’t been a way to measure it before; it’s always just been there, but with the unique perspective of an unaffiliated species perhaps we can finally quantify a qualitative quality. “

“Ah!” Grace interrupted, stabbing her hoof at the pair for emphasis.

“Oh, just look at them and smile knowingly.” Twilight waved a dismissive hoof.

“You do realize how disruptive this is to my entire world view?” Grace demanded in a voice somewhat higher than her norm. Numbly, she looked back at the pair and said, “Take my hand. What’s done cannot be undone.”

“What are you talking about?” Both Crisp Lick and Hector asked simultaneously.

“Nothing,” the mares in the room responded in kind.

“I just need to go have a lie down,” Grace muttered. “To bed, to bed. What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.”

“This is no time to quote Shakespeare,” Twilight protested. “We need to take you to my lab and make a full body scan – with probes, plenty of probes!”

“No,” Grace said firmly.

“This is an opportunity that has never been recorded.”

“No,” Grace repeated.

“Just think of the possibilities! You’ll become the harbinger of har . . .”

“You were taking twist to see the Crusaders.” Grace reminded her.

“For science! For equanity!” Twilight rallied.

“You promised,” Grace countered.

“But . . .” Twilight wilted. “Science!”

“Floo. Now!” Grace commanded

“All right,” Twilight griped as she floated the required measure of powder into the flames. “Three Broomsticks,” she called out. When the flames turned green, she addressed Peppermint Twist. “Why don’t you go first?”

“Go firtht?” Peppermint asked.

“She wants you to walk into the fire,” Hector said with a grin.

“The wanthth me to do what!!!???” The last word was said three or four, maybe five octaves higher than the rest. And the word “screeched” wouldn’t be out of place substituting for the word “said”.

“Hurry now,” Twilight said as a magenta hue surrounded Peppermint, hefting her in the required direction. “We wouldn’t want to waste the powder.”

“No!!!!!!” Peppermint protested just before the flames flared up; a second later they returned to normal, sans pony.

“Twilight,” Grace scolded, “that wasn’t very nice.”

“What?” Twilight asked. “She’ll be perfectly fine.”

“’Traumatized’ is the word you are looking for,” Grace said. “She’ll be perfectly traumatized.”

“I guess that was a bit mean,” Twilight admitted. “I should probably go and apologize.”

“You think?” Grace narrowed her eyes at the other mare.

“Okay. Okay. That was wrong,” Twilight admitted. “In my defense, I may be associating with too many pranksters as of late. I’m sure that will get voted as ‘harmless fun’ by the members of this household if push comes to shove.”

“You are learning some bad habits,” Grace sighed.

“What happened to Peppermint?” Crisp Lick asked, sitting on her haunches with her eyes open wide.

“She just took the floo,” Hector said. “It’s how wizards get around. It is perfectly safe . . .”

“. . . if not traumatizing,” Grace said. “Especially when no warning is given.”

“I said I was sorry,” Twilight said as she levitated another measure of powder into the flames. “Three Broomsticks!”

“No, you haven’t,” Grace scolded. “And you should be telling Peppermint that, anyways.”

Twilight only nodded as she cantered toward the green flames. When she got close, the flames blazed purple, and she was pushed back by some unseen force. “What?” Twilight gasped, now on her own haunches as words of fire resolved themselves in the hearth.

“An individual significantly along in her pregnancy has attempted the use of this system. This action is ill-advised due to the complications it may induce. We suggest the Knight Bus as an alternative method of transportation. Congratulations, mother to be. If that was supposed to be a secret, oops!”

“The Knight Bus?” Twilight exploded. “Are they nuts?”

The laughter was still going strong when Madam Rosmerta approached the pony who had come to a skidding halt on her common room floor. “Are you all right dear?” she asked with mirth in her own voice.

“Wha juth happened?”

“Your first trip through the floo, I’d wager.” With her wand, Madam Rosmerta targeted the trail of urine leading from the fireplace. “Scourgify.”

The pony seemed to consider those words for a second. “Thloo?”

“No, dear; floo.”

“Thath what I thaid.”

“Sorry dear.” Madam Rosmerta put her wand away. “Shouldn’t you be in school? It’s not a weekend where we are expecting students.”

“I came to vithit the cruthaderth,” Peppermint Twist said. “Twilight ith taking me to thee them.”

“She should be along shortly then.” Madam Rosmerta nodded. “Now stand up; I’d like to clean your underside as well. You don’t want to stain that pretty fur of yours.”

“Thorry.”

“Scourgify.”

“Give the lass a butterbeer,” one of the patrons who had managed to stop laughing called out. “On my tab. Fair exchange for the entertainment, I’d say. Besides, it’d be a good idea to replace some of the liquids she just lost.”

This brought another round of merriment from those watching the exchange.

“I don’t think I like the entertainment around here.” Peppermint cringed.

“Watching others have their first go at the floo is always good for a laugh,” Madam Rosmerta said as she went to draw a mug of butterbeer. “Rare though it may be. And the lot of you need to stop picking on poor children.”

“I can’t thay I thee the appeal,” Peppermint said, trotting behind the tall human.

“On the stool with you now,” Madam Rosmerta admonished. “Can’t have you behind the counter.”

Hopping up onto the proffered furniture, Peppermint asked, “How long until Twilight geth here?”

“I’m surprise she isn’t here already,” Madam Rosmerta said. “I’d guess she mispronounced her destination. Not to worry; she should be along soon enough.”

“You don’t suppose ponies are as bad as house elves when it comes to butterbeer?” a customer mused as Rosmerta placed a mug in front of the small occupant of the stool.

“We’re about to find out,” replied another.

“I wouldn’t be giving it to her if they were,” Madam Rosmerta said. “I’ve managed some gossip with Tom. They love the stuff; it’s mead and cider you have to watch them around. Especially the cider, so I hear.”

“And mangos,” offered the customer who had put Peppermint’s drink on his tab. “I hear they go crazy over mangos.”

“That’s only those bat-shaped ones,” another patron countered. “I wouldn’t advise getting between them and one of those muggle mango-flavored smoothies.” He winced to show that this tidbit of knowledge came from personal experience.

“Thith ith good,” Peppermint said with foam on her muzzle.

“You’re not going to attack anyone to get a bottle?” the patron with batpony experience asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“There are reasons the words ‘Oops. I dropped my mango’ are banned in Diagon Alley. Some blokes were having a spot of sport with that one.”

“Couldn’t have been that bad,” Madam Rosmerta tsked.

“Turns out, them teeth ain’t just for show. Had some worrying that we just found out how vampires originated.”

“Serves ‘em right,” said a patron.

Whatever he might have added was cut off as Twilight appeared in a flash of light. “That takes care of that,” she said as the room stared at the now-present unicorn.

“Did you just apparate through my wards?” Madam Rosmerta asked.

“Teleported,” Twilight corrected as the pub owner scowled at the reply.

“What took you tho long?” Peppermint asked with her muzzle half buried in her mug.

“The floo wouldn’t let me use it since I’m pregnant,” Twilight said, annoyed.

“You apparated while pregnant?” Madam Rosmerta snarled. “Are you trying to splinch your baby?”

“Teleported,” Twilight corrected.

“Mark, floo St. Mungo’s and have them send a splinching expert on the double,” Madam Rosmerta snapped at the patron who had bought Peppermint her drink.

“There’s no need. Like I said, I teleported, not apparated.”

“Now, Mark!” Madam Rosmerta commanded when the wizard in question hadn’t yet gotten to his feet.

“That really isn’t necessary. You can’t splinch when you teleport,” Twilight protested.

“Are you a healer?”

“Well, no.”

“Mark, if I don’t see your head in the floo in the next three seconds, you can expect reductos in your general direction,” Madam Rosmerta informed the wizard.

“Right, right.” The wizard made a dash for the fireplace.

“Thath a big human,” Peppermint whispered to her chaperone as the pair of ponies followed Hagrid through the halls of Hogwarts. “Not ath big ath Diamond’th pet, but thill big.”

“I swear, you mention that snake every other sentence,” Twilight returned.

“Have you theen him? If you have, then you know he ith worth mentioning every other thentanth.”

“I can’t argue with you there,” Twilight admitted as they came upon another human in the hallways.

“Professor,” Hagrid greeted. “Dun mind us now; Lady Black has brought a guest fer the first-years. Seeing how it’s the weekend, I thought I’d jus’ show them along meself.”

“Twilight.” The human turned and nodded at the unicorn mare. “I hope you haven’t brought a new Crusader to fill their ranks.”

“Peppermint Twist isn’t as rambunctious as the girls,” Twilight said. “But she is a good friend. How are Applejack and Zecora?”

“They are doing fine,” the human replied, nodding toward Peppermint. “I am sure you’ll want to have a get-together of your own once she is with her friends.”

“That would be perfect.” Twilight beamed. “Thank you.”

“I’ll never understand how someone as cultured as you could be interested in the mutt,” the human commented.

“I wish the two of you would let bygones be bygones,” Twilight huffed. “By the way, ‘cultured’ is a word best left to describe Rarity.”

“Perhaps, but I do not find you uncouth, despite your lack of taste.”

Twilight sighed. “You realize we are going to take Dan’s advice and lock the two of you in a small room for a weekend without your wands.”

“That would be ill-advised.” The human actually snarled a little with those words.

“You are leaving us few options . . .” Twilight countered. “. . . you and Sirius both.”

“I fail to see why you continue to make the effort along these lines.”

“Even if you weren’t married to Applejack and Zecora, it would still be my duty to show you the value of friendship.” Twilight gave him a smile. “Despite how grumpy you portray yourself, don’t think I can’t see the progress you’ve made.”

“I may have to rescind my words over you not being uncouth.”

“I love you, too.”

The human sighed. “Once more, I shall tell you in no uncertain terms, we are not combining herds. It is bad enough that Limestone has all but wormed her way into the one I am currently a member of.”

“Good; you can be grumpy together.” Twilight smirked.

The human smiled slightly. “I cannot say that I find the inevitability an unpleasant thought.”

“I can’t wait to tell Applejack you said that,” Twilight squealed happily.

“Please don’t,” the human said. “She does not require the ammunition.”

“Professor Snape! Professor Snape!” The pair were interrupted by an older human filly hurrying down the hall. “You must come quickly! They need your help prying ponies out of the plumbing!”

“Will the wonders never cease?” Professor Snape asked as he followed the retreating form of the schoolfilly.

“Come on,” Twilight said over her shoulder as she fell in line. “The Crusaders are this way.”

“I could have gueththed that for mythelf,” Peppermint Twist commented as she dogged their heels.

“Well?” Sirius asked when Grace trotted into the study.

“Fluttershy says he needs to be exposed to some fear to boost his confidence,” Grace said. “Apparently the lack is not normal and is very harmful to his self-image.”

“I could have told you that,” Remus said.

“Oooo! Oooo!” Pinkie said, bouncing on the couch, having returned from the bakery not too long ago. “Idea!”

“An’ this here is the bathroom,” Apple Bloom said sweeping her hoof widely.

“Our current destination,” The not-so-bright orange unicorn filly filled in for her.

“That’th a nith tub,” Peppermint Twist said with admiration. “I can’t wait to take a bath.”

“You and me both,” the blue pegasus filly said. “Whose idea was this, anyway?”

“We did manage to retrieve what we were after,” the grey bat pony filly said dreamily.

“And were promptly shown that a summoning charm would have been a better choice,” countered the pink, er, fuchsia when not covered in slime, pegasus colt.

“We are going to have to change the water like three or four times,” whined the mini and female incarnation of Big Mac.

“I’ll jutht wait until the water ith clearer before I join you,” Peppermint said, happy that her friends hadn’t changed too much.

The troops were lined up for some special last-minute training. If the truth were told, the screams of terror coming from the tent were unnerving, to say the least.

Unceremoniously, the latest batch were ushered from the pavilion, and those in line could tell that there was more than a little haste in their hooves as they did so. They assembled in a huddled group as they waited their assessment.

“Creepy crawleys! The creepy crawleys!” the biggest mare of the group suddenly broke out when the silence was too much for her.

This proved too much for one of her squad mates, who promptly fell on the ground, howling with laughter. “I can’t believe it,” he managed to get out between guffaws. “Big bad Battle Axe is frightened of spiders.”

“There were so many of them!” the afflicted mare protested, still shaking where she stood.

“Spiders!” cried out the stallion rolling on the ground.

“Oh, be quiet, Mr. I Flee at the Sight of Puppies,” another member of the squad said.

“You be quiet. You’re just lucky it couldn’t do a creditable impression of the snake.”

“Are you telling me that isn’t a reasonable fear?”

“Fall in!” their sergeant called out, trotting up to stand in front of their formation. “Overall, I am not too disappointed in your showing.” Some of the ponies stood straighter at the praise. “Black Luck, you only took three steps back before you found your spine. Good job.”

“Thank you, sergeant,” Black Luck barked. “That was uncanny, sergeant.”

“It is an experience,” the sergeant said. “It is great training, and the Element of Kindness says it is doing wonders for her friend.”

“All things considered; I have to wonder how she manages to hold onto the title of Element of Kindness,” one of the squad called out.

“I’m pretty sure she’s being kind to the boggart.” The sergeant said. “Be grateful she provided such a unique and useful training aide. Besides, we now have an explanation as to why Battle Axe was screaming in the shower that one time.”

“Stuff it, Sarge; they have way too many legs to be natural.”

“Also,” the sergeant continued as if Battle Axe hadn’t spoken, “Puppybane, I would not have placed bits on you being able to hit that note.”

“They have teeth, Sarge, pointy little teeth.”

“Back in line,” the sergeant barked. “I won’t have the officers saying that a little fear is enough to keep this company down.”

“Yes, Sergeant!” the ponies called out, though it was obvious they were less than enthusiastic to obey.

As they awaited their turn, Bitter Ring looked at the pony standing next to her. “This does not bode well.”

A blood-curdling scream followed by a muffled thud grabbed the sergeant’s attention. “What? Nopony is supposed to be in there!”

He galloped to the tent and threw back the door flap. The victim lay on the ground twitching as the others in the tent looked on guiltily. The sergeant groaned. “Which idiot let the field trip from Ponyville in here?”

Chapter 37: Relationships Reconciliation and Really?

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Hufflepuff House was not a place for the ambitious, the brainy, or the bold. By contrast, its members were loyal, hardworking, and humble. Nothing that could be considered pretentious or elegant made it past the common room’s entrance portal. Therefore, it should have come as no surprise that even the individual dormitories spoke not of conquest, not of academia, and not of high adventure. Instead, it spoke of home; it spoke of hard-earned rewards from earnest effort. Even a blind man could see that the legendary Helga Hufflepuff had preferred contentment and practicality above everything else. Somehow, however, she seemed to have also neglected furnishing individual desks for studying. Perhaps she had realized they were more hindrance than help. Through either design or desire, most, if not all, of the Hufflepuffs preferred nesting on the floor to complete their schoolwork.

It came as no surprise that Ruby found herself atop a mound of blankets, pillows, and comforters, surrounded by open books, parchments, journals, and a flurry of loose notes as she prepared for her upcoming N.E.W.T.S. After all, she was a Hufflepuff; it was not in their nature to take half-measures on anything of import. Despite the urgency of her task, there was likewise no justification for enduring any more discomfort than absolutely necessary.

She was in the perfect Zen-like studying state, balanced between concentration and relaxation when the dorm rooms door banged open, dragging her back to reality. “You’ve got a visitor!” Gloria chirped happily as she entered.

Looking over her shoulder with more than a hint of irritation, Ruby saw who Gloria was escorting. “You!” she spat.

“Only the lonely,” confirmed the pony. “At this point I have to wonder if your mother ever taught you how to say hello.”

“Hello,” Ruby said sullenly. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up, Shadow Flow.”

An eyebrow rose upon hearing that greeting. “Hello Ruby.” Shadow Flow glided in, gracefully touching down before lowering herself to the floor just a couple feet away from the girl. “It’s nice to see you again.”

It was Ruby’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“Are we going to get snarky now?” Shadow Flow’s ears flatten a bit. “I was hoping to avoid anything like that.”

Ruby sighed and then closed the book she was holding. “No, you’re right. That was petty. I apologize.”

Shadow Flow fixed her gaze on Ruby, obviously not expecting that reply. “Apology accepted.” She paused for a second. “I think giving you your space and letting you cool down was the correct decision.”

Ruby thoughtfully tapped her book in the palm of her hand. “What do you want?” she finally asked.

“To talk,” Shadow Flow answered.

Silence filled the room and after a minute, Gloria started to hum a game show song indicating a thirty-second deadline. Suddenly reminded of the other individual in the room, the two females turned to look at the one who had dared to breach the quiet.

“Don’t mind me,” Gloria said. “I just thought the two of you needed a nudge.”

Shadow Flow chuckled. “Thanks, Gloria; it was getting awkward.”

“Of course, it was.” Gloria shrugged. “You both know you owe each other a real apology, and since you aren’t Gryffindors, you’re too afraid to just get on with it.”

“Go on. Go watch the telly,” Ruby commanded.

“This is much more interesting,” Gloria said, plopping on the floor. “Besides, I need to stay to make sure we’re not sending Shadow home as pony puree.”

“I’m not that violent,” Ruby protested.

“Pony pudding, then.” Gloria shrugged. “Or maybe a pony popsicle.”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop giving her ideas,” Shadow Flow snarled.

Ruby smirked. “You needn’t worry,” she said showing way too many pointed teeth for Shadow Flow’s liking. “I’m not going to hurt anyone.”

Shadow Flow eyed her warily.

Sighing, Ruby put down her book. “Look, I admit, I overreacted when we first met. I’m not proud of it, and Gloria is right; I owe you and the rest who got hit, an apology.”

“That was not,” Shadow tilted her head slightly, “something I was expecting to hear from you.”

Absently, Ruby brought her hand up to rub her left cheek. “My mum slapped me. She never slapped me before. I’m told I received a swat on the bum when necessary -- but a slap? And then she broke out in tears. I thought she broke her hand or something. The slap wasn’t that hard; I thought she hurt herself.” Ruby sighed. “Those tears hurt worse than the slap.”

“Oh Ruby,” Gloria said sympathetically.

“She’s never slapped me before.” Ruby looked at Shadow. “I crossed a line and I need to get back on the right side of it.”

Shadow looked down and tapped a forehoof on the rug on which she was lying. “We crossed a line as well.” She finally said, “We were skirting it by pony standards, but by the way humans see things, we went over by several lengths.”

“Oooh, that begs the question,” Gloria said. “How far over the line did Ruby go by pony standards?”

Shadow thought for a second as the two human girls inwardly cooed at the cute expression on her face. “That depends on how you look at it,” she finally said. “If you see it as a mare stopping other mares from joining her single mare herd, well, that is way over the line. On the other hoof, if you look at it as a mare trying to stop other mares from taking away her marked stallion . . .” Shadow sighed heavily. “In that case, she was well within bounds. In fact, her restraint is commendable -- from that point of view.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry I took it as far as I did,” Ruby said.

“I’m not letting you be the emotional sacrifice here,” Shadow said. “We were wrong, snatching Torin like that without bringing you along for the ride.”

“Not, ‘We were wrong snatching Torin in the first place’?” Ruby asked.

“No.” Shadow said. “It was never our intentions to harm anypony, but we couldn’t let Torin go without approaching him in some manner. We couldn’t give up on the promise of another generation or three.”

“That’s still rather cold,” Gloria stated. “It’s more than a little materialistic. He’s a person, not an asset to be traded or sold.”

“The elders are aware of that,” Shadow said. “I think that’s why they gathered so many of us younglings together. They want real family connections to go along with a more diverse gene pool. I wish things had been different, allowing myself and the rest of the herd the opportunity to fall in love with Torin under better circumstances.”

“You love Torin?” Ruby asked in surprise. “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s not just physical?”

Shadow snorted. “The changeling, who still swears up and down that she isn’t a changeling, knew what she was doing.”

Ruby looked downtrodden. “I never stood a chance.”

“I do not understand you,” Shadow said. “Larva already told you that you two were meant to be.”

“Are you still chipping away at that?” Ruby growled.

“I’ve got a hammer in one hoof and a chisel in the other,” Shadow responded. “Seriously, the elders are still hoping to persuade another changeling to help. What Larva managed to accomplish in her short time with us is beyond amazing.”

“Have you talked to Clouded Hope yet?” Gloria asked. “I’m sure she can put you in touch with some other changelings if you ask nicely.”

“Clouded Hope?” Shadow asked.

“She’s a first-year, who’s given up the pretense of not being a changeling.” Gloria said. “Keeps handing out jars of love honey, because flushing it down the toilet has become a hassle.”

“Love honey?” Shadow asked.

“The tasty pink stuff.” Gloria nodded. “You got to be careful though. More than one upper-year is expecting after consuming more than their share of the stuff.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Shadow pressed.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Ruby said. “It doesn’t force you to obsess over anyone like a love potion does. It does, however, amplify what’s already there.”

“I’ve noticed you refuse to eat any if Torin happens to be in the room,” Gloria said offhandedly, looking at Ruby.

“What does it matter?” Ruby asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve lost.”

“Aaaarrrrgh!” Shadow jumped up and flapped her wings. Somehow her torso stayed put as she repeatedly stomped the ground with all four legs.

After the pony seemed finished blowing her gasket, Gloria asked, “Feel better?”

“No.” Shadow said flopping back onto the floor. “What’s wrong with you Ruby? Why does it have to be win or lose?”

“You wouldn’t understand?” Ruby said.

“I just told you I don’t understand,” Shadow snapped. “Apparently, I’m stupid or something. Please explain to me in small, simple words.”

Ruby opened her mouth to reply but didn’t get the chance as the door to the dorm room opened to reveal a woman’s silhouette dominating the doorway. As the three were recovering from the surprise interruption, the woman said. “You are going to need this.” With that, the woman tossed something that landed in the midst of the three girls. They all looked down to see a copper ring. When they looked up again, it was only to witness the door closing as if they had never been disturbed.

“Who was that?” Shadow ventured.

“That was Professor Trelawney,” Ruby said, looking back down at the ring, but making no move to reach for it.”

“Professor Trelawney?” Shadow asked.

“She’s the Divinations Professor.” Gloria informed the pony. “She has gotten really scary lately; let me tell you.”

“That is more than a bit of an understatement,” Ruby said. “Recently, she put the entire first-year Gryffindor class in detention for a week -- for apparently no reason, at that, and no one complained, not even the Gryffindors who got detention.”

“I remember that. She headed off to find the other professors right after. I was in the Great Hall when she stomped up to the headmaster and told him -- told him, mind you, not asked. Told him that the cake was bad enough and that homemade silly string was going on the banned list immediately,” Gloria seemed gob smacked over the memory.

“Kind of makes you wonder about cake and silly string,” Ruby said.

“Right until common sense catches up with your thoughts, at which point you have to admit that you’d really rather not know,” Gloria finished.

Shadow looked down at the ring. “She really derailed our conversation.”

“She probably planned that,” Ruby said. “Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

“Okay, let’s back up,” Shadow said. “Ruby, why do you insist on setting yourself up for a world of regret?”

“World of regret?” Ruby snorted. “I regret nothing.”

The other two looked at her for a second before Gloria asked, “Did you convince yourself? If so, then you’re at least one for three on that try.”

“All joking aside,” Shadow said, “you will have to live with a heart load of regret if you continue down this path. You should at least allow Torin to rut you a time or two, if nothing else.”

“Woah!” Gloria said. “That came from, like, out of nowhere.”

“What do you mean?” Shadow asked. “She’s always going on about how Torin created the herd for sex. Ergo, if she’s so focused on losing her sex toy, we should let her play for a bit.”

“Torin is not my sex toy!” Ruby protested hotly.

“Which is exactly the point I was trying to make.” Shadow smirked. “Thanks for saying it for me.”

“That was mean,” Gloria stated.

“Now that I think of it, you should let him rut you as well,” Shadow said.

“What?” both of the humans said at the same time.

“It is becoming clear that the two of you are a package deal.” Shadow mused, “I should adjust my tactics accordingly.”

“I have no clue where you got that idea from,” Ruby said as Gloria did her best impression of a stunned fish.

“Are you telling me that Gloria has never thought of coupling with both you and Torin?” Shadow asked.

As one, they both turned to look at Gloria. Was she more a mullet or a goliath grouper?

“What exactly are you playing at?” Ruby demanded of Shadow Flow.

“Hammer.” Shadow held up a forehoof. “Chisel.” Up went the other.

“Wait!” Gloria finally managed to get out. “Ruby, tell her it doesn’t work that way.”

“I’ve been trying to tell her!” Ruby screeched. “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time!?”

“The way I see it, you’ve been asserting things as fact without having the supporting evidence to back up your claims,” Shadow said.

“That’s . . . That’s . . .” Gloria sputtered.

Ruby looked at her sideways and managed a smug smile. “Not so funny when you’re looking at it from this side, is it?”

“Sooo,” Shadow interjected. “Ruby, exactly what is it you want out of life?”

“Was that rehearsed?” Ruby asked snapping her head back toward the pony. “’Cause, it sure sounded like it was rehearsed.”

“The girls and I may have gotten together and brainstormed on how this conversation was going to go,” Shadow admitted.

“Are we really doing this?” Ruby asked.

The bat pony stared back at her with a serious look.

“I guess we’re doing this,” Ruby slumped where she sat.

“W-what?” Gloria sputtered. “Just like that? After all of the bitching and moaning? Seriously, just like that? Am I the only sane person in the room?”

Both of the other two stared at her with mouths half open until Shadow Flow said, “We are going to need a new irony gauge.”

“’Cause the one we had just overloaded,” Ruby finished for her.

Gloria threw them both a dirty look for their efforts.

“Sooo,” Shadow interjected a second time. “Ruby, exactly what is it you want out of life?”

“Really?” Ruby asked.

Shadow shrugged. “Can you blame me for trying to get this conversation back on script?”

“No, but we could get back on the topic of Gloria shagging Torin,” Ruby said. “I’ve never seen her flustered before, and I’d kind of like a repeat performance.”

“I think we have more important things to discuss than sex,” Shadow said. “That’ll come in its own sweet time.”

“Ahhhh.” Gloria groaned. “I can’t believe you made that pun.”

“What pu . . . Ahhhhh.” It was Shadow’s turn to groan.

“And, Ruby, I never thought I’d hear you say anything about anyone shagging Torin except yourself,” Gloria said.

“I’m not allowed to joke about my ex’s love life?” Ruby shrugged. “Like, I haven’t gotten over him or something.”

“I dare you to say that after sitting across from him and eating a jar of love honey.” Gloria smiled at her friend.

“I’d like to see you right next to her eating a jar of your own,” Shadow said.

Gloria gave Shadow a contemplative look before saying, “All right, fine. If Ruby’s in, so am I.”

“What?” Ruby squeaked. “I may be quoting someone but, seriously? Just like that?”

Gloria sighed and settled herself more comfortably. “Ruby, do you have any idea how long it would take you to count the single guys in our year who aren’t planning on visiting Equestria this summer, intent on finding a herd of willing and beautiful women? I’ll tell you; not very long. After all, it takes practically no time to count on one hand. If I’m going to end up having to share, it might as well be with someone I happen to like and trust. Sharing a man whom I also like and trust is a bonus.”

“What?” Ruby said, “This is the first I’m hearing about anyone making plans like that.”

Gloria grinned. “I can’t imagine why anyone would avoid bringing up the subject in your presence.”

“Am I winning?” Shadow asked. “It feels like I’m winning.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Ruby muttered.

“Speaking of winning and losing, you have stated that you’ve lost. This isn’t true. We are willing to compromise; even if you consider us the winners. Wouldn’t you like to have a partial win?”

“Shadow Flow.” Gloria pointed a finger and waggled it. “You need to learn when to go off script and improvise.”

“It was working so well; I was afraid to,” Shadow admitted.

“I just have to ask,” Ruby said. “Whose idea was it to trick us into the herd with rutting? Instant marriage that it is and all.”

“Ah . . .” Shadow’s eyes went wide. “Believe it or not, I forgot all about that.”

“Sure, you did.” Gloria smirked.

“No. Really. Believe me. I forgot.” Shadow winced. “Besides, you could go human on human. I understand for humans, casual rutting isn’t unheard of, with no obligations afterwards.”

“Would that work now that Torin can go pony?” Ruby asked.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t,” Shadow said.

“You have no idea, do you?” Gloria accused.

“Not a clue,” Shadow admitted.

The bright, crisp afternoon in Canterlot was practically electric with anticipation. School had let out for the day, and the colts and fillies were milling about as they gathered in their cliques. In their midst, a tan pegasus colt read a map that a blue unicorn colt held in his mouth. The two earned sideline glances as the unicorn said around gritted teeth, “Are you sure we’re in the right spot?”

“I don’t know,” admitted the pegasus. “Clouded Hope’s friend’s handwriting is atrocious.”

The unicorn replied, “We may have a bigger problem on our hands; how can we tell which ponies are the right age? Maybe we should have just waited like everybody else.”

“Don’t be daft -- early bird and all that,” the pegasus said, walking up to a colt who had a book levitated in front of his face. “Hey mate.” The tan pegasus nudged the bookworm gently on his side. “Question for you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

The book lowered itself as the other colt studied the pegasus who had just accosted him. “That’s a Trottingham accent if I’ve ever heard one. How may I be of assistance?”

“We were wondering. What are the ages of the ponies leaving the school?” the accented pegasus asked.

The bookworm’s eyes widened slightly. “That is a weird question.”

“We are a bit weird,” the unicorn said soothingly after spitting out the map.

“Okay,” the bookworm said. “Well, everypony you see is around sixteen to eighteen, depending on the grade they are in -- except Graded Acumen. She’s only eleven, but has advanced enough to be graduating at the end of the year. Can’t miss her; she’ll be the one with a stack of books five times her height.”

“Thanks, mate,” the pegasus said.

“So . . . jackpot?” the unicorn said, coming to stand next to his friend.

“Jackpot,” his friend affirmed.

“Sooooooo, what do we do now?” the unicorn asked.

“I dunno. Stand around in sheer terror over the realization of what we’re planning?”

“Good,” the unicorn said. “I was afraid I was the only one doing that.”

“You two are definitely weird,” said the bookworm.

“We really haven’t thought this through,” said the pegasus.

“How hard can it be?” The unicorn huffed. “All we need to do is look for pretty ponies.”

“You mean like those over there?” The bookworm pointed.

The unicorn cringed. “Correction. All we need to do is look for pretty ponies who aren’t so obviously high maintenance enough to break the bank inside a week.”

“What exactly are you trying to do?” the bookworm asked.

“Were hunting for herds,” the pegasus said offhoofily.

“And on that note, I should probably be making a gallop for it,” the bookworm said. “Curse this morbid curiosity.”

“What about those three over there?” The unicorn pointed at three fillies chatting not too far away.

“That’s Stark Winter, Shuffle Toes, and Raccoon Rocket. I know they are graduating this year; so, eighteenish.”

The pegasus raised an eyebrow. “Raccoon Rocket?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” the bookworm said. “I didn’t name her.”

“Well, she is a pinto, and I can kind of see the resemblance,” the unicorn said. “That is, if raccoons happened to be yellow and black.”

“Be that as it may, it’s showtime. Go over and chat them up,” the pegasus said as he nudged his partner.

“Me?” the unicorn asked. “This was your idea.”

“And you were the one to pick them out. So, it’s on you.”

The three colts all stood staring for a minute. “Well,” the unicorn said, “I think it is obvious why neither of us were sorted into Gryffindor.”

“You mean besides having common sense?” asked the pegasus.

“That, too.” The unicorn agreed.

“What’s Gryffindor?” asked the bookworm.

“I’ll explain later. We should probably focus on the girls before they decide to wander away.”

“Have I mentioned; you two are weird?”

“I’m sure it’s just cultural differences butting heads,” the pegasus said before prodding the unicorn. “Get on with it, Stet; make us proud.”

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled the unicorn. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.” Throwing his withers back, he made a show of strolling over to the mares who had stopped talking to watch him approach. “Ladies,” he said. He then took a half step back astonished at his own boldness.

The pegasus trotted up next to him and prodded his barrel a few times. “Yup, broke,” he declared after getting no response.

Stark Winter looked at the colts before warmly addressing the bookworm. “Hey there, Staunch Cipher, who are your friends?”

The pegasus was the one to answer. “My name’s Alwin; the statue here is Stetson. Pleased to meet you.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the masked filly replied. “I’m Raccoon, and these are my friends Shuffle and Stark.”

Alwin replied, “Ah, but the pleasure is surely ours. After all, meeting lovely ladies such as yourself is the quintessential essence from which dreams are made of.”

The three fillies looked at each other, confused. “Ladies?”

Staunch Cipher said, “In the context of things, I think he meant ‘fillies’.” The three fillies took on a pinkish hue as Alwin’s words sunk in. Staunch Cipher continued. “Laying it on kind of thick there. Don’t you think?”

“Ah, I got that from a book,” Alwin admitted. “Too much?”

“Maybe just a little,” Stetson said. “They’re still in shock.”

“You’re one to talk,” Alwin replied. “Why’d you freeze up there? It’s not like you’ve never asked a girl on a date before.”

“Those were just trips to Hogsmeade,” Stetson protested. “That’s a long way from ‘Hello, could I interest you in forming a herd’?”

“A herd?” Shuffle Toes stood up tall on her hind legs and looked around as if expecting to find a hidden camera. “Funt, are you there? Is this a joke?”

“More like an ill-thought-out plan,” Stetson said. “The more I think on it, the more I see things going sideways.”

“So, you just want to slink back to the common room with our tails between our legs?” Alwin asked. “In this case literally.”

“You can’t just tease somepony with a herd, then run away laughing. That’s beyond cruel.” Stark narrowed her eyes at the colts. “What kind of sick ponies are you?”

“Ooooh, we messed up,” Stetson said. “We were just looking for a herd. Never stopped to think what you pony girls would make of it.”

“You really are looking for a herd?” Raccoon’s ears shot forward.

“Yeah, and apparently just walking up to the first group of pretty ponies we see is not the way to go about it,” Alwin said

“Technically, they are the second group,” Staunch Cipher helpfully added.

“That plan isn’t ill-thought-out; it’s absurdly ridiculous,” Shuffle Toes said.

“Shut it, Shuffle,” Raccoon snapped. “Don’t scare away the three willing colts.”

“Three?” Staunch Cipher’s eyes went wide. “Don’t drag me into this. I’m just an innocent bystander.”

“I mean, it’s not like there isn’t a timeless way to go about this,” Alwin said. “It’s called dating. You know, get to know them first. See if you’re compatible. It’s not like we’re on a deadline.”

“A date?” Stetson asked.

“Of course, a date.” Alwin huffed. “You didn’t think we were just going to walk up to a group and say ‘You. Me. Herd. Let’s go shag.’”

“I can’t tell if I’m really happy to hear you say that,” Stark said, “or really disappointed.”

“Shag?” Shuffle asked.

“It’s a Trottingham term,” Staunch Cipher explained. “It means to rut.”

“Oh.” Shuffle covered her mouth with a hoof and managed to turn redder.

“This would be a heck of a lot easier if we had a changeling,” Stetson said.

Alwin facehoofed. “It’s not like we don’t have one hanging out in the common room. We are borrowing her owl, after all. Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”

“I just now thought of it.” Stetson sent Alwin a glowering look.

“Changelings are real?” Raccoon asked. “I thought they were just rumors.”

“Yep, they’re real,” Stetson said as Alwin stuck out a hoof for a large owl that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “You have to watch out for their love honey though. It is deceptively potent. One minute, you’re munching crackers, and the next, you’re in the broom closet with your childhood friend doing things you never dreamed of before, and then, the very next, you’re in front of her parents trying to explain why she’s pregnant.”

“Ah!” Stark interrupted. “Your friend was just eaten by a teleporting bird. Aren’t we going to talk about that or maybe do something else sensible like run around in terror?”

“Don’t worry; he’ll be back in a minute or two,” Stetson said dismissively.

“So, this childhood friend of yours? You got her pregnant?” Raccoon prodded, though she was scanning the area, on the lookout for hungry birds.

“Not me.” Stetson hurriedly shook his head. “It happened to a pair of our housemates.”

“I can’t imagine having to explain that to my parents,” Shuffle said.

“From what I understand, they were beyond ecstatic when they found out the two went from friends to baby on the way in the blink of an eye,” Stetson said. “Threw a party and everything. An actual party.”

Stark narrowed her eyes at Stetson, “You don’t have any of that love honey on you?”

“Nah.” Stetson shook his head. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know. Looking for a herd and able to get your hooves on something that makes mares want to claim you,” Staunch Cipher said.

“Nah, the stuff doesn’t make you feel anything that’s not already there,” Stetson replied. “You do have to watch out for any suppressed feelings you may have, though.”

“Still sounds dangerous,” Raccoon said.

“It really isn’t.” Stetson shrugged. “We’ve been eating it by the bucket loads. Only three or four couples came around as a result.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Stark admitted.

“Then again, Betty and Veronica were a real surprise, let me tell you,” Stetson said. “Especially after they dragged Archie and Reggie in and told them to deal with it. Lucky blokes.”

“It’s back!” Raccoon and the other native ponies reared back as the owl landed in front of Stetson.

Heedless of their alarm, Stetson said, “Let’s see now. Horn goes here.” He bent down and placed his horn on the pouch the owl was wearing. “Ex dimittere.”

“That’s it,” Staunch Cipher said after the owl’s pouch had noisily relinquished its meal. “I’m done.” With those words, he trotted away.

“What’s that?” Stark demanded tersely, unwilling to abandon her chances with a willing pair of stallions.

“What’s what?” Alwin asked as he and Stetson looked around searching for the spectacle that had the mare worried.

“That!” Raccoon pointed her hoof.

“Hi.” said the monster on two legs.

“That?” Stetson said. “That’s just Clouded. She’s a first-year.”

“What is she?” Shuffle asked.

“A first-year,” Stetson repeated.

Clouded rolled her eyes; then a ring of green flames flashed from her feet to the top of her head. “Better?” the filly asked, looking up at the three older fillies.

With her mane standing on end, Stark said, “I’m not sure. I’m really not so sure.”

Clouded sighed and turned toward Alwin. “So, exactly what was it you wanted?”

“We’d like your help making a couple herds,” Stetson said.

“A couple?” Shuffle sounded disappointed. “You and Alwin aren’t a package deal?”

“We’re close,” Alwin said. “But we aren’t that close.”

“I don’t know,” Clouded said. “You could make it work, with a little effort.”

“Not happening,” Stetson said.

“I think the two of you would be very happy sharing seven or eight mares between the both of you.” Clouded pressed.

“Seven or eight?” Racoon and Stark squeaked as Shuffle’s mouth dropped open.

“That’s not how humans do things,” Alwin said.

“Humans don’t normally have more than one female at once,” Clouded countered. “Think outside the box. You can continue your bromance in an acceptable setting, and no one is asking you two to get physical with one another.”

“They could still kiss? Right?” Shuffle asked hopefully.

“What?” Stetson and Alwin both exclaimed.

“Two stallions kissing is just so hot,” Shuffle supplied.

With an unspoken agreement, Alwin and Stetson both took a measured step away from each other.

“Sooo . . .” Clouded said. “My job is to convince you two that being in the same herd is what you want?”

“No.” Alwin said hastily, “We brought you so we could each find a herd that we could be comfortable with.”

“Their original plan was to find a group of mares and go up to them and say, ‘You, me, herd, let’s shag.’” Raccoon constructively informed the filly.

“That would get the job done.” Clouded nodded. “Though, I don’t doubt the medical ponies would be irate over the heart attack victims you’d be sending their way.”

“That wasn’t the plan,” Alwin protested.

“It’s sounding better, every time I hear it.” Shuffle shrugged. “I say we just go with it and rework it if it doesn’t pan out.”

“Have you explained to them that mating with you means a lifelong herd that nopony can back out of?” Clouded asked Stetson.

“That hasn’t come up yet,” Alwin admitted before the unicorn could respond.

“Seven herdsisters and two stallions?” Raccoon said. “I think we could make that sacrifice.”

“Alwin and I haven’t agreed to be in the same herd,” Stetson reminded the group.

As one, the three unicorn fillies glared at the unicorn colt. Clouded Hope grinned. “Can you colts feel the connection.”

“And suddenly,” Stetson said, sweating, “I completely understand why my dad always backs down when Mum gives him that look.”

“Also suddenly, I have become very worried over exactly what we are getting ourselves into,” Alwin added.

Clouded Hope said, “There’s only one way to find out.” Standing on her hind hooves, she put her forehooves to her mouth and shrilly whistled. “Everypony! Herd audition for these two fine colts.”

As the crowd formed, Alwin and Stetson gulped as they suddenly discovered how it felt to be a gazelle in the midst of a pride of lionesses.

Chapter 38: Running Recon and Reunions

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As he felt his heart breaking, Randy could not help but think back to the time that he had believed that he was destined to die of boredom. Life, it seemed, would be no more than a monotonous muddle with one school day seamlessly oozing into the next. Mere words could not express the chagrin he had felt when he’d been told that he’d have to transfer to a boarding school – until he learned it was a magical boarding school.

Magic was cool! Beyond any doubt, magic was very cool, just like the castle. It was literally a dream come true. Granted, they weren’t yet living inside the building, but the tent set up in the courtyard was also cool. There were even ghosts! That was cool. The ghosts themselves, though, were actually kind of boring. The movie about the ghost exterminators in New York City was a complete lie. There wasn’t even an iota of ectoplasm to be had in the entire castle.

The coolest thing, however, had to be his new best friend. They were practically peas in a pod with the way they just seemed to click. The best part was that his friend was an actual fire-breathing dragon. Granted, Spike was a baby dragon, but some things were meant to start small. Dragons were beyond cool.

What wasn’t cool was the funk his little purple buddy was currently experiencing. When he had first heard the news, Spike had broken out in tears, right there in the common room. No one would have dreamed of teasing him after that outburst. First, he was just too freaking cute to have any of that bad karma directed his way. And secondly, well, fire-breathing dragon. What more needed to be said on that matter?

So here they were, wandering the halls, the two keeping quiet with the exception of an occasional sniffle coming from the shorter of the pair.

After an eternity, Spike asked, “Why?”

“Hmm?” Randy replied.

“Why did she do it?” Spike asked. “Doesn’t she like me?”

“Mate,” Randy said, “I don’t see why it’s a problem. Don’t ponies do herds with more than one bloke in them?”

“Yeah, but dragons don’t.” Spike sniffed. “We’re greedy like that.”

“She isn’t a dragon, though,” Randy reasoned.

“She could have let me known.” Spike ignored the point. “How could…” He didn’t finish the sentence, letting out a miserable sigh instead.

“I think that’s why she sent you that letter,” Randy said. “Better than you going home only to get clobbered when you make some offhand comment about her getting fat.”

“She wouldn’t get fat,” Spike said with a hint of anger in his voice. “She’s perfect. She’s beautiful. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a mare.”

“She’s also ancient,” Randy said.

“She’s not!”

“She’s like, what? Twenty-five? Thirty?” Randy shrugged. “It’s all right to have a crush, but that’s as far as it’ll go. She probably sees you as a lovable little brother.”

“I would be good for her,” Spike insisted.

Randy gave a short laugh. “You’re not even finished with school. You’re not mature enough to be good for her.”

“I am mature!” Spike protested. “I had all kinds of responsibilities before coming here.”

“You are literally a baby dragon,” Randy scoffed. “By that definition alone, you aren’t mature.”

“You don’t understand,” Spike said. “I wanted to marry her someday.”

“Yeah, right,” Randy snorted. “That would be like me going up to Professor McGonagall and asking her to marry me. She’d laugh right in my face; she would.”

“I don’t think McGonagall knows how to laugh.”

“You have a point,” Randy said. “She’d give me a stern look and let me know how foolish I was.”

“You think I’m being foolish?” Spike glared at Randy. However, because of his lack of height and general cute appearance, it didn’t have the intended effect.

“I don’t know. It’s not like you’re throwing a fit over a girl four times your age, or anything.”

“We could make it work.” Spike protested.

“Or you could focus on someone your own age,” Randy suggested. “It’s not anything like we’re in a castle chock-full of girls or something.”

“They would be too much trouble,” Spike stated.

“And this Rarity isn’t?” Randy asked.

“It wouldn’t be the same.”

“No, I reckon it’d be something new.” Randy shrugged.

“I’m telling you right now; the girls around here will be the death of us,” Spike stated.

“I don’t doubt it,” Randy said. “I’m sure girls would be the number one cause of death, if anyone bothered to keep count. I don’t know why anyone gets it in their heads that being around girls is a good idea.”

“Half the humans we hang out with are girls,” Spike noted.

“Nuh uh.” Randy shook his head. “They’re just blokes who are a little bit lacking.”

“I dare you to say that to Diamond Tiara’s face.”

“Umm,” Randy said. “How about we don’t?”

“You’ve never had a crush,” Spike said accusingly.

“Of course, I haven’t,” Randy replied. “I’m way smarter than that.”

“The sheer number of Ravenclaws with crushes proves that using brains can’t cure heartache.” Spike said dryly.

“Common sense, then,” Randy countered.

“Which definition of ‘common’ are you using?” He shuddered. “I edited Twilight’s research paper; less than four in a million never have one.”

“Will power?” Randy ventured.

“You realize I’m laughing my tail off the moment you meet a filly you like,” Spike deadpanned.

“Not happening,” Randy said. “I’ve seen the bother it causes. Why would I put myself through that?”

“How many ‘I told you so’s’ do you think I’m racking up from this conversation?” Spike wondered out loud.

“None,” Randy said confidently.

“I’m just waiting for you to say something like ‘fillies are icky’.”

“That’s just childish,” Randy said. “And, we’ve already established you are the immature one around here.”

“You’re not exactly full grown yourself, you know,” Spike returned.

“Low blow,” Randy accused.

“When I’m like this, all my blows are low,” Spike said. “Being small means, I can’t aim very high.”

“In a way, that is more worrisome than your fire breath.” Randy took a step backwards, painfully aware of exactly what parts of his anatomy were the perfect height for the apex of Spike’s shoryuken.

He needn’t have worried though, Spike stood still and silent for a good minute before saying, “You’re right.”

“That’s not news,” Randy quipped.

“Just because Rarity joined a herd, doesn’t mean I can’t join later.” Spike continued as if his friend hadn’t spoken. “She’s worth it, worth sharing.”

“I still say she’s too old for you,” Randy said.

“Age shall be no boundary,” Spike said sagely.

“At least you know what you want,” Randy said.

“I’ve known from the moment I saw her,” Spike noted.

“You’re hard-headed,” Randy noted.

“It’s the scales; don’t you know?” Spike said. “Much more protection than mere flesh.”

“There you are!” a voice called out causing the boys to turn around to look back the way they had come. Down the hallway and rapidly approaching were Diamond Tiara. Draco, Silver Spoon, Daphne, and oh yeah, Tracey was there as well. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two.”

“Spike needed some alone time.” Randy said.

“Why is my ‘I told you so’ sense tingling?” Spike asked too quietly for anyone but Randy to hear.

“We heard,” Daphne said as the other children drew close to the pair. “One of your housemates came and told us that Spike has received a letter that upset him.”

“Something about the love of his life going off and getting pregnant by somebody else,” Tracey said sympathetically. “We thought he could use some friends right about now.”

“Thanks, guys,” Spike said. “I was feeling down, but Randy reminded me that I wasn’t out of the game yet.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Diamond Tiara said. “She’s old enough to be your mother. Heck, she went to school with my father and uncle.”

“You have an uncle?” Silver Spoon was surprised by the statement.”

“Had,” Diamond Tiara said. “He got eaten by a quarray eel.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Daphne replied.

Diamond Tiara shrugged. “Happened before I was born. I never met the stallion.”

“Still, that’s rough,” Tracey said.

“Water under the bridge.” Diamond Tiara shrugged. “My point is that by the time Spike is ready, she’ll have grandfoals already.”

“Somehow, that math doesn’t add up.” Randy commented. “If you stop to think…” That was as far as he got before Diamond shot him a withering look. “Ah, the point still stands though.”

“Why is everypony trying to make me give up on Rarity?” Spike whined.

“Because we care about you,” Daphne said. “Besides, my father isn’t one for sharing.”

“Your father was the one who got Rarity pregnant!” Spike all but shouted.

“They’re almost the same age,” Daphne said. “Which just goes to show that Lady Rarity is old enough to be your mother.”

“Dragons don’t lay eggs until they are at least five hundred and forty years old,” Spike informed her. “So, she’s not old enough to be my mother.”

“Okay,” Tracey drawled. “That puts a whole new spin on things. Could we just skip the arguing and commence with the hugging until he feels better?”

“Or we could just let him sulk until he works it out of his system,” Draco said sullenly.

“You’re going to live five hundred years?” Silver clutched at an important fact. “How long do dragons live?”

“A lot longer than that,” Spike said smugly. “You have to live for a long time if you want to take century-long naps.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Diamond said, producing a parchment from somewhere. “I’ve got just the thing to make you feel better.” She thrust her prize towards the two boys. “Here, sign this,” she commanded.

Randy looked warily at the proffered object. “Is that?” He scrunched his brows together. “Spike I think we should run. Don’t you think we should… Spike wait for me! Bloody hell! How can you move so fast with those stubby little legs?”

“Darn it!” Diamond stomped a foot as she watched the pair flee. “How did the Crusaders make this look so easy?”

“Hey guys!” Gloria said as she backed into the common room, stopping at the doorway. “You’ve got to get a load of this.”

Her words drew the attention of everyone as a recognizable voice came from the direction Gloria was pointing her wand. “I swear if you don’t put me down! This is embarrassing!”

“Hush!” Gloria said. “You’re ruining the big reveal.”

“I can walk on my own,” snarled what was assuredly Ruby’s voice.

“That’s debatable.” Shadow Flow’s voice came from a similar direction. “You’re clumsier than a new born foal.”

“Now that everyone is watching.” Gloria finished backing into the room, levitating a pony. “Ta da!”

“Ooooooooooh!” came the collective gasp from her fellow Hufflepuffs and a few muggleborn houseless.

“That’s new,” Cedric Diggory was the first to say.

“Okay. That’s just wrong,” said Hanna Abbot.

“I’ll say,” Susan Bones noted.

“You can see right through her,” added Ernie Macmillan.

“No.” Hanna shook her head. “I meant; she’s ruby.”

“Of course, she’s Ruby,” Craig Dunn said. “We recognize her voice.”

“Wait!” cried Linda Chaddesley. “Did anyone else just have a dose of déjà vu? I just had an intense feeling of déjà vu.”

“Gloria put me down!”

“So? What is she? A ghost pony?” one of the muggleborn asked.

“Don’t be daft.” Another muggleborn scolded him. “Ghost aren’t red.”

“She’s ruby,” Hanna said.

“That’s just weird,” Linda Chaddesley said, looking around in confusion. “Don’t tell me no one else felt that.”

“She’s solid.” Shadow came forward and tapped a hoof against one of Ruby’s dangling legs. “So, not a ghost.”

“Shouldn’t she, like, have organs?” Justin Finch-Fletchley asked.

“Put me on the bloody ground!”

“This is good news,” Cedric said. “Now Hufflepuff has the one and only ghost pony in the castle.”

“Being a ghost is not something to celebrate.” Gloria berated the boy.

“She’s not a ghost,” said Susan Bones.

“Course not, she’s red,” said the second muggleborn.

“She’s ruby!” insisted Hanna.

“Seriously,” spouted a frustrated Linda Chaddesley. “That has got to stop, whatever it is.”

“I’d really like to be let down now!”

Alwin looked over the edge of the carpet and marveled at the view.

“How is it that your so calm?” Stetson asked from where he was cowering at the center of the carpet covered by five shivering unicorn mares.

“I got wings. Don’t I?” Alwin asked, still enjoying the view.

“Sure, but you have no idea how to use them,” Stetson countered.

“I’m sure I’d figure something out before hitting the ground.” Alwin shrugged. “Besides, these things have charms that prevent you from falling off.”

“Then why are they illegal?” Stetson demanded.

“Broom makers want a monopoly,” Alwin deadpanned. “They are completely legal here in Equestria.”

Herd candidate Burnished Argent said, “I still can’t believe you know Knight Elemental Rarity. Not everypony has a flying carpet just lying around their boutique.”

Herd candidate Mossy Ledge replied, “She did mention it was a Hearth’s Warming gift.” She gave a pointed look at the diminutive pilot. “I’m more surprised that changelings are real. What did Knight Rarity mean that you were almost killed?”

Clouded Hope shrugged. “It was a misunderstanding. Changelings are supposed to announce themselves before they enter another hive’s territory. I got dragged into Canterlot before I could do that.

Stetson said, “Wait a minute. Why didn’t they try getting you when we were in Canterlot?”

Clouded replied, “I had time to make arrangements. Besides, the local queen knows I’m much more valuable to her alive.”

Burnished Argent grumbled. “Are you sure we need to go to Cloudsdale? Being off the ground is just unnatural.”

Clouded said, “The herd balance is off without pegasi. Besides, we’re too young to get into Las Pegasus.”

“Do another loop de loop!” Alwin commanded, still looking over the edge.

“No!” exclaimed the six ponies huddled as close to the center as they could manage.

“If I did that, I wouldn’t doubt that Stetson would refuse to scourgify the unicorn barf off of me a second time.” Clouded shook her head.

“I’m pretty sure their stomachs are empty now,” Alwin asserted.

“Not a risk I am willing to take,” Clouded said. “I am literally the smallest target on this thing, and not a one of them missed.”

“Spoilsport,” Alwin muttered.

“Do you want to fly this thing?” Clouded raised an eyebrow at him. “They can target you instead.”

“Sure!” Alwin said.

“No!” thundered the six traumatized unicorns.

“So, no loop de loop then?” Alwin asked dejectedly. “The enchantments really are good enough to hold everyone on.”

Stetson shot a stinging hex that caught Alwin on the snout.

In short order they landed at the welcome center of a city, which as its name implied, was located floating on clouds.

“Wow, this is impressive,” Alwin said, stepping off the carpet.

“You’ve never been here before?” Stark Winter asked with incredulity. “I was under the impression that all pegasus visited here at least once.”

“I’m more interested in him not knowing how to use his wings,” Racoon said. “I was going to say something at the time, but held my tongue. I wanted to get on solid ground first.”

“This ground is surprisingly solid.” Alwin tapped his hoof on the cobblestone sidewalk they were on leading from their landing platform. Then, just to prove his point, he started off the path towards a group of ponies standing not too far away. “It’s so soft,” he commented. “But firm enough to stand on.”

From behind him, Stetson said. “That’s amazing. I can’t wait to whooooops!”

In front of him, the four ponies he had been approaching went wide eyed as one of them dove through the ground as if it were made of, well, clouds.

“That was neat.” Alwin turned back toward his group. “Don’t you think, Stetson? Stetson? Where’d he go?”

“Important note,” Clouded said. “Unicorns cannot walk on clouds without the proper spell being cast first.”

“That wasn’t the brightest move I’ve ever seen,” Mossy Ledge, a filly Clouded had added to the group, commented.

“This goes right up there with the not knowing how to fly comment,” Racoon added.

“Hmm, we may have forgotten to mention that Stetson and Alwin are human-born,” Clouded said. “Today is their first day as ponies.”

“Human?” Shuffle Toes asked.

“Oh,” Stark Winter said. “I’ve heard tell of those. They make ideal pony stallions. My aunt’s herd bought one before they shut down the market. I can’t believe we get a pair of them.”

“You really aren’t letting go of the two blokes in a herd thing? Are you?” Alwin asked as the tan mare who had dove through the ground returned, carrying Stetson.

“You foals need to remember to stay on the path!” the mare snapped, depositing Stetson next to the unicorn fillies, who were not venturing anywhere near the edge.

“Thanks for the save,” Clouded said as everypony else was at a loss for words. “I’ll keep them in line from here on out.”

“Why is that coming from the mouth of the youngest filly here?” one of the other mares still standing on the cloud asked. She was a nice shade of purple.

“I’m the only pony with common sense,” Clouded stated.

“I’m not going to fall through if I lose concentration or anything?” Alwin interrupted, looking down at the not so solid ground on which he stood.

“No,” said the mare who had rescued Stetson. “Why would you?”

“See what I mean?” Clouded questioned.

“Lack of ignorance is not the same thing as having common sense,” Stetson said, walking to the boundary between solid and not so solid. With an eager hoof he prodded the clouds.

“Says the pony who hasn’t learned his lesson yet,” Mossy Ledge said. “Get back away from the edge.”

“Speaking of,” the tan mare said, “you seem rather ill informed to be visiting our city.”

“We’ll learn,” Alwin stated.

“Hopefully without anypony going splat.” Shuffle stated.

“So, what prompted your visit?” the purple pegasus mare on the cloud prompted as Racoon and Stark dragged Stetson away from the edge by his tail.

“They are looking for three pegasus mares to fill out their herd,” Clouded stated. “We thought the best place to look would be Cloudsdale.”

“You are looking for members to add to your herd?” asked the tan mare. “I’m tempted to introduce you to my daughter. After you demonstrate having some brains, that is.”

“I’m all for that,” Stetson said. “After we get something to eat. I’ve emptied myself from both ends; so, I’m more than a little puckish.”

Alwin did a facehoof. “And back home, all we have to worry about is the birds.”

The café was nice enough, more than adequate for a quick meal and a break from their search. It was a respite that was sorely needed considering they had been about their mission for quite some time now. It was a substantial undertaking. Day after day of worrying had turned into week after week without relief. For all their effort, their quarry was nowhere to be found, no matter how far they strayed from their home.

Their time together was not completely fruitless. They had become closer; their love for one another grew deeper. If it were not for the hole in their hearts, the experience would have been wonderful. If only their goal hadn’t been so devastatingly elusive. If only they could be assured the one they were searching for was hale and hearty. If only they weren’t consumed with uncertainty.

After another day of dead ends, the pair were indulging in a quick spot of tea when a stranger sat at their table without asking permission. Compounding the odd nature of the intrusion was the fact that the intruder was a young boy, who couldn’t have been more than nine years old.

“Hello?” Janice still hadn’t gotten over her awkwardness concerning people she didn’t know, but she was more than willing to make an attempt at an exception for the seemingly lost child.

“Hello,” the boy responded looking down at the table, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Are you lost?” Victor asked. “Do you need our help finding someone?”

“No.” The boy sighed heavily. “This is where I need to be right now.”

“Are your parents around?” Janice looked around the restaurant, expecting to see the boy’s family watching the encounter.”

“My mother knows where I am,” the boy said somewhat bitterly, still looking down at the table.

“She doesn’t approve.” It wasn’t a question; Victor was making a statement.

“She thinks this is an unnecessary complication,” the boy admitted.

“What exactly is ‘this’?” Victor asked, not unkindly.

The boy opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, unable to continue.

“Take your time.” Janice soothed. “I’ll order you some tea. It’ll calm your nerves.”

“No.” The boy shook his head, still looking down. “I don’t need tea. I… I need to tell you.”

“Tell us?” Victor asked, gesturing for their waitress to bring some tea despite the child’s words.

“I..” The boy seemed to consider his next sentence. “You need to stop looking.”

“Stop looking?” Janice examined the boy with trepidation. “Do you know for whom we are looking?”

“She...” The boy was having difficulty finding words. “She never really existed.”

“Never existed?” Victor scoffed. “She changed our lives for the better. It’s a disservice to say she never existed. Do you know where she is?”

“She…” The boy started before changing midsentence. “Ponies. They weren’t the only creatures to come here from Equestria.” He still wouldn’t look either of the adults in their eyes.

“I’ve heard tell of at least one griffin,” Victor admitted. “What does that have to do with anything?”

The boy fidgeted. “A hive full of others came in secret,” he said after a few seconds. “She was one of that hive.”

“Was?” Janice asked, fear in her voice.

“She never really existed,” the boy repeated.

“That isn’t open for debate,” Victor said firmly. “Can you tell us where she is?”

“She...” He stopped before going further. Deciding he had had enough, the boy started to get out of his chair. “This was a bad idea.”

“Don’t go!” Janice pleaded. “Please don’t go! We need to know. We need to talk to her. We need to let her know we love her.”

“She knows,” the boy said, settling back in his chair with some reluctance.

Victor took a deep breath. Exhaling it slowly before speaking. “Don’t be scared. We aren’t mad at you. We are excited, since you are the first lead we’ve had in forever. Please tell us what you know. I can promise we won’t yell at you.”

The boy looked at Victor with wide big brown eyes before dropping his gaze once again. “The others… who came from Equestria. W.. They are called changelings.”

“Changelings?” Victor mused. “From what I heard; the griffin was in the company of a changeling.”

The boy snorted at that comment. “Ironically enough, she’s an imposter. She was born human.”

“Why is that ironic?” Janice asked, hoping to keep the boy talking.

“Changelings are master shapeshifters,” the boy said, failing to hide the pride in his voice. “They can be anypony, anything within certain size limits.”

“Impressive.” Victor sat back in his chair, hiding a grin. “Are you saying Darla is one of these shapeshifters? Why did she run?”

The boy sighed. “Changelings. W… They feed on love. Not by choice, but necessity. That means they have to gather food. Most of their methods are considered to be unethical, since subterfuge is a common tactic.”

Victor nodded. “Janice needed someone to love and our changeling was more than willing to provide an outlet.”

The woman in question nodded. “The pink puke. Darla wasn’t sick, was she?”

The boy shook his head. “No, that was love honey. It was being sent back to the hive. You have so much spare love to share.”

“And what of me?” Victor asked. “I was rather bitter at the time, hardly a fitting source of love, if I were to guess.”

“You are a perfect match for Janice,” the boy said. “You just needed to be washed up and hugged a few times.”

“So, she ran because we were going to take her to a doctor and she was afraid of being found out,” Victor concluded.

“Essentially.” The boy got out of his seat fully this time. “That’s why you need to stop looking. No one was supposed to get hurt and you don’t have to worry about a girl who never really existed.”

Janice’s hand shot out and grabbed the boy’s wrist before he could walk away. “You exist.”

“Whatever form you take,” Victor added. “You exist.”

“Please,” Janice all but pleaded. “Come back home.”

Darla looked at the hand holding his wrist then up into the eyes of the woman who gripped him. With awe in his voice, he asked. “You would still want me around?”

The couple nodded with tears in their eyes, confident that their family would be returning to the big and not quite so empty house together.

Janice had found what she had been missing.

Chapter 39: Routine, Revalation, and Round up

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The castle had changed very little over the years, a true testament to the wizards’ creed of “good enough is good enough”. For a very long time, those in charge had been old men and women terrified of progress. They had hoarded their comfort and power and clothed it in the pretense of tradition. They had gone so far as to mandate the use of quills and parchment long past the point where their use was anywhere near practical. Again, they cited tradition, all the while ignoring the hypocrisy they displayed when they forced muggleborns to abandon their own heritage of using sensible biro and line paper. It was no exaggeration to say that those old conspirators were so desperate to hold onto the past that they were willing to sabotage their own children’s futures in an effort to do so.

It was, therefore, ironic that that selfsame castle was a concentrated epicenter for the change sweeping the country. Already, there were classes being taught to help the students cope with the non-magical world. In the past, those of muggle descent told of the wonders of being in a magical shopping center for the first time. In the present, that wonder was matched by the purebloods gushing over the joys of having field trips to a muggle mall. In short, what was once an icon for stagnation had become the symbol for development. What’s more, the attitudes of the inhabitants were testaments to the adaptability of humankind, magical or not.

This was proven by the fact that no one blinked twice at the entourage calmly making their way toward one of the exits. No one could claim that seeing ponies traverse the halls was now anything but normal. At the beginning of the year, such a spectacle would have stopped everyone in their tracks; today it didn’t warrant so much as a shrug. Nor was it notable that two of the ponies bore birds of prey on their backs, one a snowy owl, the other a fierce falcon. To be fair, the lama, unicorn mare, beaver, koala, and octopus that were tagging along still secured second glances, but that was as far as that went.

As they walked, the pink . . . er, fuchsia pony said with some surprise in his voice, “Hey, wait a minute. I just realized it’s only us blokes this time.”

Neville swiveled his head as he trotted with the octopus on his back. “You’re right,” he confirmed. “I can’t remember the last time one of the girls hasn’t been within shouting distance.”

“Oh, good,” Ron said, herding the koala back toward the group. “It’s about time we had a break from them. We are becoming much too girly as it is.”

“Girly?” Dean asked, looking at Ron. “In what way are we becoming girly?”

Ron, in turn, gave him a deadpan look. “That’s rich, coming from Mr. Pink Boy. It is.”

“Hey!” Harry warned as Dean responded with his customary “Fuchsia!”

“Dean can’t help being pink,” Seamus started.

“Fuchsia! Damn it!”

“Language!” admonished Harry.

“I don’t see how that makes the rest of us girly,” stated Seamus.

“Can’t you see what you just did?” asked Ron. “A real bloke wouldn’t give a damn about . . .”

The others said sharply, “Language!”

Ron huffed. “See? Girly. Also, look at all the studying we do. We would have time for fun if the girls weren’t always nagging.”

“Studying makes us girly?” Neville asked. “It’s almost like you haven’t met someone like, I don’t know, your brother Percy.”

“He’s being nagged, too,” Ron countered. “Three wives and all.”

“He was like that before he met them.” Seamus huffed. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they don’t want him studying as much as he does, which just goes to prove your point is pure bunk.”

“Speaking of Percy’s wives,” Dean asked. “How are they doing? Living in Hogsmeade is probably still strange for them.”

“They’re adapting,” Harry replied. “Gracious’ boss has stopped giving her a hard time whenever she corrects the prepared forecast. Although, she’s still complaining that the job wasn’t what she was expecting when she answered the request for a weather person. That, and I think she’s getting tired of flooing to the Burrow every morning to commute to work. Says Ron’s mum won’t let up on hinting about grandkids.”

“Grandfoals,” Neville corrected.

“Mrs. Weasley would call them grandkids,” Seamus observed.

“Yeah, but Harry is telling it from Gracious’ viewpoint, and she’d use ‘grandfoals’,” Neville countered.

“See?” Ron pointed an accusing hoof. “Right there. You started gossiping. That is girly by definition.”

“We weren’t gossiping.” Harry snorted. “It was a valid question seeing as Percy’s wives were brought up.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Ron said. “I still say all of this studying is girly.”

“I promised my mums I’d do the best I could,” Harry said sternly. “It’s not my fault you’re lazy.”

“Lazy?” Ron managed to turn red despite being yellow. “You are the prime example of being girly, what with all the cooking you do.”

“My relatives forced me to cook for them,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “It’s not my fault that I’ve developed a knack for it.”

“Besides,” Seamus said, “if Harry didn’t do the cooking, Sweetie would find excuses to do it.”

Everypony, including the full-grown mare following the colts, shuddered at that.

“How can you mess up overnight oats?” Harry asked. “It’s impossible to mess up soaking oats in cold milk. I stood there and watched her incinerate it, and I still have no clue how she managed that disaster.”

“Don’t remind me,” Neville whined. “I’m liable to lose my lunch just thinking about it.”

“That’s nothing but an excuse,” Ron persisted, not letting the subject drop. “Apple Bloom can cook. She’s pretty good at it. Why aren’t you letting her do the girly work?”

The other colts all groaned. “Ron, let it go. We’ve taken a vote, and neither you nor Apple Bloom are to make any comments concerning what boys or girls are supposed to be doing. You two are complete opposites, and your arguing is just plain irritating,” Seamus said.

“Though, I got to admit, the look on Apple’s face when you tossed her was priceless.” Dean snickered. “Whatever possessed you to do that?”

“Payback and all that,” Ron said. “Now, we’re even.”

“You’re just lucky that Lavender got between you and Bloom after she hit the wall.” Neville shuddered. “I have the feeling you were about to have a firsthand example of just how fragile that wall was.”

Harry shuddered as well. “Lavender’s scary. Her yelling about not throwing colts . . .” He shuddered again.

“Her yelling is what impressed you?” Dean asked. “What did it for me was the big hole in the floor she made with Apple Bloom’s body.”

“Nah.” Neville shook his head. “Apple Bloom shook that off like it wasn’t anything. The reason she looked so pathetic was the yelling. That hurt her a whole lot more than the pounding.”

“Then the way Sweetie, Hermione, and Parvati tore into all three of you for using violence to prove your point . . .” Harry said. “And the fact you made Luna cry…”

“Just so you know, Ron,” Neville growled. “If you ever repeat that feat, I’m gonna pull a Lavender and use you as a pickaxe.”

“It’s official,” Dean said, looking at Neville with wide eyes. “All earth ponies have a thing for hitting poor defenseless surfaces with people who upset them.”

Kreacher had been the house elf for House Black since time immemorial. He had seen more than his fair share of debauchery and perversion. However, nothing had prepared him for the level of disgust he now felt toward his current master. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he had no doubt that the master had lain with beasts, and that the perversion had spread to the rest of the house.

The master’s cousin was living in sin with one who, by all rights, should be relegated to the Forbidden Forest. The pair had now sequestered themselves with what Kreacher could only assume was an egg. They had been most upset when he had suggested that they let him make an omelet with the offending object. Since then, the pair had refused to let it out of their sight.

The rapping at the front door broke Kreacher out of his reverie. No one was expected that morning, and the notice-me-not charm should have warded off any casual callers. Intrigued, Kreacher prepared his most powerful repulsion charm and went to the peephole.

The elf nearly lost his balance as he fell back in shock. Steeling his nerve, he looked again. The hulking figure in a red bellboy’s uniform was still there, squinting through glasses at a scrap of paper in his hands.

Kreacher said harshly, “What do you want?”

Looking up, the figure said in a rich baritone, “Gorillagram for . . .” He squinted at the paper. “. . . Nymphadora Tonks.”

Kreacher half-breathed a sigh of relief. The lowland gorilla was not a hallucination. Curtly, he said, “Slide it through the slot.”

The gorilla replied, “I’m sorry. This message needs to be delivered in person.

The house elf was about to give a stinging retort when a wicked grin came to his lips. He could finally have a measure of revenge. That, and he wasn’t entirely sure what angering a five-hundred-pound gorilla might entail; he wasn’t in the mood for any serious cleaning.

The tension in the honeymooners’ suite filled the room like a fog. In the middle of the bed, nestled in blankets and hot water bottles was an egg. A griffin cock and hen were on opposite sides of the bed, deep in study. The cock was perusing “Practical Poultry” when the hen flung “Breeding Better Balut” with a measure of disgust before picking up “Hopeful Herpetology”.

The two jumped at the knock on their door. Kreacher said, “Visitor for Mistress Nymphadora.”

Gordon and Tonks looked at each other.

“Were you expecting anyone?”

“Jinx!”

The two shared a quick laugh before turning to the door. Tonks asked, “Who is it?”

An unfamiliar voice replied, “Gorillagram.”

Gordon asked, “What’s a gorillagram?”

Tonks shook her head. “No clue.”

The two shrugged and, in a flash of light, assumed human forms. After opening the door, they stumbled back as one at the sight of the messenger. So focused was their attention they barely heard when, with a hint of glee, the elf said, “Kreacher will let you be. Birdie and buggy be talking with walking rug.” They didn’t bother to acknowledge the small snap of fingers that advertised his retreat.

The gorilla entered the room and closed the door. There were a few seconds of silence before, in a voice a few octaves higher than normal, Tonks asked, “What do you want?”

Grinning, the gorilla took a pitch pipe from one pocket and a sheet of flimsy paper from another. Middle C came from the pipe as he blew. He pocketed the pipe and raised the paper to his eyes. His voice wasn’t all that bad when he sang, “I hear you from far away! Your constant yammering is driving me insane! Stop your moaning, stop your whining! All your worry is giving me a migraine!”

The two stood and stared at the oddity, failing to find words for the situation in which they were suddenly immersed.

In return, the gorilla glared at Gordon and then at Tonks before sharply saying, “What’s wrong with you? It’s just an egg! One. Egg. Not even a proper clutch!”

Tonks blinked, open her mouth, thought better of it after reminding herself she was speaking to a gorilla and then asked, “What? How do you know?”

“I can hear you screaming day and night. What sort of queen are you?”

“She’s a queen of hearts,” Gordon said, “at least for me. Who are you?”

The gorilla sighed and rolled his eyes. “What are they teaching the nymphs these days. All right, let’s cut the crap.” In a flash of green light, the gorilla was gone. An alto voice continued, “It’s time to chat changeling to changeling.”

Gordon looked at the new form, then looked at his wife. “Can you do that?”

Tonks shrugged. “I can turn into a griffin, a pony, and a pineapple. I don’t see why a gorilla would be off the table.”

“We are having a conversation here.” The other changeling in the room said, “Let’s get on with it; my drones are getting annoyed with all my demands for aspirin.”

The bonded couple looked at each other and then as one turned into their Equestrian forms.

Chrysalis snarled at Tonks. “Didn’t your mother teach you the facts of life?”

“Yes, but keep in mind,” Tonks replied, “humans don’t lay eggs!”

Chrysalis groaned. With a crack of displaced air, a puzzled Hufflepuff first-year appeared. Looking around, she said, “What . . . Mother?”

Chrysalis roughly pushed Clouded Hope next to Tonks. “You two, sit. It’s time for THE TALK.”

Tonks looked at the little girl in shock. “How’d you get her through the wards?”

With another roll of her eyes Chrysalis said. “House elf. If you want in somewhere, tell your house elf to talk to their house elf with promises of no harm being intended and Bob’s your uncle as the locals like to say.”

“You have a house elf?” Tonks asked unnecessarily.

Chrysalis snorted. “Have I got a house elf? Have I got a house elf? I have loads of house elves. Can’t get rid of them. They want to work and some enterprising nitwit, who shall not be named, got it in her head to form teams to make messes of houses just so the elves could clean up. I don’t know what to say. It’s a vicious cycle. My children throw outrageous parties. They are making a game of chucking breeding pairs of humans at each other. Then it’s free love for everyling. The next morning, the elves come in and clean up, all the while munching on the excess magic my children apparently leak.”

“Sounds like a win for everyone,” Tonks said cautiously.

“You would think so,” Chrysalis said. “At this point I’ve gone far past ‘too good to be true’, rolled right over ‘when is the other horseshoe going to drop?’ and am currently sitting in terror just knowing karma is waiting in the eaves ready to pounce.”

“How dreadful,” Gordan said sarcastically.

“You are too young,” Chrysalis said. “When there is this level of fun and games, the bubble has to burst at some point. Have you seen an elf on love honey? It’s amusing -- probably dangerous, too.”

“Probably?” Tonks asked.

“Definitely,” Chrysalis amended. “I’m cringing in anticipation over that one blowing up in my face. Then, you have the audacity to come along and start constantly crying over not knowing what was going to happen after a big burley male sticks his Richard in your private parts. I was a nervous wreck before you opened your mental mouth, and you sure aren’t helping any.”

“That was somehow both crude and childish at the same time,” Tonks said sullenly.

“I can be more graphic if you like,” Chrysalis said.

“No, no.” Pinkie took another hoofful of popcorn out of the cardboard container she was holding and stuffed it in her mouth. “You’re skirting the rating as it is,” she said around her mouthful.

All of the occupants of the room turned to stare at what was supposed to be an empty corner.

“What?” Pinkie asked, reaching for more popcorn.

The two girls accompanied by a pony watched the procession with wary concern. After the objects of interest rounded a corner, Ruby said. “That was about half of the first-year Gryffindors being followed by a zoo.”

Shadow hummed. “It is my understanding that their house has a literal zoo when it comes to their familiars. I suppose it is just time for walkies.”

“That would be my guess, and hope,” Ruby said.

Gloria suddenly broke out giggling, drawing the attention of the other two females.

“What?” Shadow asked. “Care to share with the rest of us?”

“It just.” Gloria giggled. “I was marveling how the words ‘what could possibly go wrong with that?’ have been removed from all of our lexicons.”

“A unicorn, a lama, a koala, an octopus, a falcon, and an owl followed five young ponies innocently down a corridor. That is the perfect beginning for either a joke or an incident report,” Ruby stated.

“Aren’t you just being paranoid?” Shadow asked.

The two human girls turned and gave the pony pointed stares.

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me like I’ve just uttered the stupidest phrase uttered in the last fourteen moons.” Shadow stared back.

The girls returned the unblinking gaze.

“They are just foals.” Shadow reminded them.

The girls didn’t break eye contact.

“You are starting to scare me,” Shadow admitted.

The girls’ lips thinned.

“Should we be expecting explosions?” Shadow took a step backward.

“Don’t jinx us,” Gloria snapped.

“Yes,” Shadow noted. “You are definitely scaring me.”

The two human girls still refused to blink.

“Okay.” Shadow stamped a hoof in frustration. “Now you are just hazing me. Seriously, what could possibly go wro . . .” She trailed off when the door to the room they had been about to enter swung open and the Divination Professor hurried out, levitating a muggle fire extinguisher while displaying a determined look on her face.

“Never mind,” Ruby said after the teacher rounded the corner. “It looks like things are well in hand.”

“You would think that the actual fire breathing dragon would be responsible for the most fires around here,” Gloria said with a shake of her head. “If that pink one looks at you cross-eyed, you are liable to sprout flames out of your nostrils.”

“I’m glad Professor Babbling did whatever she did to those extinguishers,” Ruby said. “I was getting tired of our potions classes being burn paste review.”

“Soooo,” Shadow said, still staring down the hallway. “We were going to find somepony who might have a clue on what’s up with Ruby?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said, looking into the teacher’s lounge as Professor Trelawney hadn’t bothered closing the door behind herself. “Professors Snape, may we bother you for a minute?”

Shadow looked around Ruby’s legs and saw three adult humans sitting on a couch looking comfortable together. “Which one is Professor Snape?” she asked curiously.

“They all are,” Gloria said cheerfully walking into the lounge.

“That there ain’t quite right,” the large blonde human female said. “Ah’ve only helped out in Herbology class those few times.”

“Lessons the students still praise as being invaluable,” Professor Severus Snape stated from his seated position between the two women. “It is a well-earned titled despite not being employed often.”

“Ah have too many titles as it is.” The blonde Professor snape blushed.

“Titles aplenty you do seem to cram, though the Whomping Willow just calls you Ma’am,” said the Professor Snape with a mohawk.

“Lest we stray too far off topic,” said the original Professor Snape. “Why have you three decided to interrupt my personal time with my wives?”

“Just a quick question,” Gloria said hastily.

“A question that couldn’t wait until our normal class time?” An eyebrow was raised.

“We aren’t exactly sure of how impactful it might be.” Shadow stared at the imposing human without a hint of fear and with more than a little hunger. “Better to check too soon rather than too late.”

The blonde chuckled. “Ah’ve come out on the wrong end of that thar statement too many times ta argue. What has yer tails in a knot?”

“It’s Ruby’s pony form,” Gloria said. “We think the ring she has malfunctioned.”

“I share your concern. Better to ask than to burn.”

The blonde professor sighed. “An’ the day has been going so well. Let’s have a gander at the disaster war dealin’ with.”

Ruby took a deep breath, pulled her arms close to her chest and shrank.

“I can see why you were distressed,” the male Professor said, leaning forward for a closer look.

“Regrettably warranted is your fear. Never have I seen a pony so clear.”

“She’s a crystal pony.” The blonde professor leaned back into the couch. “Nothing ta worry ‘bout.”

The two other professors gave the blonde questioning stares. In turn she shrugged and gave a little smile.

“My reputation is now blacked. My previous statement I retract.”

“Your cause for concern has been addressed, you may leave.” The male professor looked pointedly at the still-open door.

Lavender’s older brother Dale had found himself in a funny predicament, a wonderful yet still funny predicament. His employment fell well outside the realm of anything he had ever predicted. He was working for, of all things, ponies. In truth, the way he had gotten the job was unusual. His mother had barged into the sitting room where he had been calmly and innocently playing video games, told him to go to work, and then proceeded to stuff him into the new pouch the family owl sported. Ever since then he had been the shop assistant for Mystic Books.

It started as easy work, too -- mainly shrinking packages for delivery. This evolved into being a sales person / delivery boy as he took over the bulk of the interactions between the shop and the businesses of Diagon Alley, an arrangement that earned him a hefty salary. Yet, the biggest perk of his new job turned out to be the owner’s niece, Crystal Cache. From day one, whenever they were not busy, the pony had demanded ear scratches and belly rubs, so much so, that he was finding that he spent a lot of time indulging her whims -- time where he enjoyed their many conversations while getting to know one another. If only she weren’t a pony.

That’s how he found himself in the corner with Crystal crawled halfway onto his lap when the owl arrived.

“Do not bother with the getting up -- either of you,” Mystic Books said with a grin as she trotted past the pair on her way to meet the bird at the counter. “After all, it must be true that I pay you to cuddle on the floor so that the customers may gaze in wonder.”

“You have to admit, we do increase your custom by doing just that.” Dale smirked

“Oui,” Crystal nuzzled Dale warmly. “So many voyeur. We should charge admission.”

“So many times, I have been asked how much that service costs.” Mystic Books placed her horn on the owl’s pouch. “A human never need go hungry on the streets of Canterlot. All she would require is a sign that said ‘belly rubs two bits’. Ex dimittere.” After the pouch mimicked a Technicolor yawn, she continued. “Welcome, my friend. Have you come to collect your son? If so, you must first drag him out from under my niece.”

Mrs. Brown got to her feet and smiled warmly at the pair in the corner. “They are still at it,” she observed.

“Oui,” Mystic Books said.

“Dale,” Mrs. Brown said, tossing something small. “Catch.”

“’Ello Mum. What’s this?” Dale asked as he plucked the object out of the air.

“Your sister’s ring,” Mrs. Brown said. “I had her owl it to me since she doesn’t require it anymore.”

“A ring?” Crystal said looking at the object Dale held. “C’est fade. As you say, it is not impressive.”

“Is this what I think it is?” Dale asked.

Mrs. Brown nodded. “Put it on and think ‘pony’.”

“Why would he . . . Magnifique!” Crystal enthusiastically hugged the new pony.

“There now,” Mrs. Brown told her son. “You can’t say I’ve never done anything for you . . . besides, feed you, raise you, pay for your schooling, and, oh yes, give birth to you.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Dale said, finding his hooves for the first time. “This is something I’ve been meaning to as . . . Woah!” He found himself moving backwards due to the hold Crystal had on his tail.

“Come over here,” Crystal said with a mouth full of tail. “Tu es à moi.”

With those words, Mystic Book and Mrs. Brown watched the door to the backroom slam shut.

“Je n'y crois pas,” Mystic said. “You just gave my niece your son? Oui?”

“Don’t kid yourself,” Mrs. Brown said. “They were at most only one or two days away from seeing how well they fit together as human and pony.”

Mystic Book looked up at her human friend then back at the closed door. “You think?”

“All he does is talk about her,” Mrs. Brown said after a pause. “Besides, I don’t know what all my friends are talking about. Finding a suitable daughter-in-law for one’s son isn’t that difficult. I’m one conversation and approximately two minutes away from achieving that goal.”

Mystic’s ears shot forward and her head rose several inches. “That was a quick two minutes? Non?”

“They must have skipped the conversation,” Mrs. Brown said. “Your niece is a screamer.”

“So, it would appear.” Mystic agreed.

The pair stood there watching the door to the backroom when the door to the outside opened and the bell announced customers – well, maybe not customers, seeing as the three unicorn mares who entered came forward with their ears pointed in the relevant direction and their eyes opened wide. They stopped, standing near the two females and joined the watch.

“They are . . . enthusiastic. Non?” Mystic commented.

“They’ve been holding it in for a couple weeks now,” Mrs. Brown said. “After the first month, don’t expect this level of activity more than once or twice a week. After another couple months, even that will die down. Maybe once a week from that point forward.”

The eight mares in the shop all looked at the lone human with varying levels of shock. The stallion baker from next door, gave a sidelong glance with envy as he jotted down orders for refreshments.

“I still cannot believe you just gave her your son and said go have fun.” Mystic shook her mane in disbelief.

“I’m sure it was a lot more mutual than that.” Mrs. Brown said as fourteen pairs of pony ears refocused on the door. “Yup, she is definitely a screamer.”

“You seem to be . . . most pleased with yourself,” Mystic said.

Mrs. Brown shrugged. “Your niece is a good person. Exactly what Dale needs in his life. Besides, she will keep him in line.”

Whatever, Mystic was going to reply was cut off by the front door opening admitting a pair of royal guards.

“We’ve reports of somepony screaming bloody murder,” One of them said as they rushed toward the egress to the back of the shop. There they slammed open the door. Pausing after they took one look inside it was a few seconds before stoically one produced a video camera. Stunned, his partner needed another moment to recover his senses sufficiently to cuff the other on the back of the head.

The videographer said, ‘What? It’s evidence.”

With one burst of telekinesis, the other dragged his partner out of the shop closing the door behind them. “Celestia didn’t have those imported from the human world for that.”

“Carry on,” said the videographer before they left and twenty pony muzzles turned away from the spectacle of the retreating pair.

“Is this not a bit much?” Mystic asked glancing at the clock.

“His father was much the same in our youth,” Mrs. Brown said as the noises emitting from the backroom died down, guaranteeing she had the attention of the twenty-four mares in the store.

“Is so?” Mystic asked. “You will be introducing me to your husband? Non?”

“Sure, I talk about you enough that he already . . .” Mrs. Brown stopped mid-sentence and threw the pony a weird look. “Oh!”

“You seem surprised,” Mystic said.

“It’s just. Well . . . Humans don’t . . . I mean I like you . . .”

Mystic’s ears shot back towards the doorway. “Et encore?”

“She’s still a screamer.” Mrs. Brown sighed as the thirty or so mares watched the door.

One of the others took an eraser to a chalkboard she had set on an easel. “Three minutes even! So close and yet so far. New odds, everypony! Who wants a piece of the action?”

“You do not want me to meet your stallion?” Mystic asked, her ears wilting as she ignored the distraction.

“No! No!” Mrs. Brown shook her head. “I want you to meet him. You’re my friend. It’s just that what you were implying . . . I don’t even have a problem with that. It would be a good present for him, and I may have indulged when I was younger. But you have got to remember with the mess magic makes, if we did that, it would be for forever.”

“I understand,” Mystic said. “I have always been as you say a mare by herself. There is no place for one like me next to a stallion.”

“Don’t say that. There are plenty of stallions that would love to be with you,” Mrs. Brown said.

“Non.” Mystic shook her head. “I have not had the pleasure of kissing one, let alone being that near one.”

“You’re kidding me,” Mrs. Brown said.

Mystic shook her head.

“Wow!” Mrs. Brown said. “This really is a different world. I mean, there was this one time where I may have had too much to drink and woke up in bed with three of the ugliest blokes I have ever laid eyes on.”

All forty-two equine heads snapped to stare at her with their mouths hanging open. Only years of muscle memory kept them from dropping their cake and cider.

“And you are never to tell my husband I said that,” Mrs. Brown said firmly.

“Three at once?” Mystic asked in awe.

“I told you I was drunk. You know, as in too drunk to remember.”

“Three at once?” Mystic repeated in awe.

“Okay. Okay. I may have remembered,” Mrs. Brown relented. “I may even have enjoyed myself at the time. But I’m serious. You can never tell my husband about that.”

“Three at once?” Mystic repeated in awe.

“And they may not have been that ugly, even without the drinks in me.”

“By yourself?” Mystic asked.

“It’s all in the past. Forget I even mentioned it,” Mrs. Brown said with a little panic in her voice.

Suddenly, the door to the backrooms slammed open and a distressed voice called, “Mum! Come quick! Crystal just passed out for no reason!” The eyes of forty-five mares couldn’t have gotten any wider had they tried.

Mrs. Brown sighed. “Were you using a pepper up!”

“I have a few in the back for emergencies,” Dale admitted. “I may have taken one so I wouldn’t disappoint her.”

“Well, enervate her and give her one! She’ll be fine!”

The door to the back slammed shut. The bookie announced, “Five minutes, thirty-seven seconds!”

A collective groan of disappointment came from the other forty-seven mares before they turned their attention to the two having a conversation.

“Mystic.” Mrs. Brown had some pleading in her voice.

“Non. Non. I shall not be telling your husband about your conquests.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Brown gave a sigh of relief.

“Really? Three at once?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Brown sighed as she looked around. “When did it get so crowded in here?”

More than half a hundred heads turned back towards the door at the sound of excitement coming to a head.

“Fifty seconds!”

Grinning, Mystic held up a slip of a paper with that time.

“How?” asked Mrs. Brown.

Mystic replied, “I knew she had it coming.”