Magic Mirror On The Wall, Who Is Mightiest Of Them All?

by Snakeskin Ducttape

First published 23rd of November, 2020

Sunset Shimmer ends up at Hogwarts rather than the Equestria Girls world.

When Sunset Shimmer left Celestia's tutelage, she entered the magic mirror that had shown her dreams coming true, but instead of ending up in a simian mirror-version of Canterlot, she ended up in a strange school of magic, an esoteric, arcane, and clumsy kind of magic, but a potent one nonetheless.

Disoriented, and her mission somewhat derailed, Sunset is nonetheless determined to become an alicorn. She has glimpsed eternity, and will continue to pursue it. Whether the magics of the school of Hogwarts will aid her or not remains to be seen.

Put simply, this is my attempt at making a power fantasy entertaining. Read more about it here.

Thanks to ssokolow for his help with the story.

Back to School

A destitute orphan moving to live in an opulent castle is in for many experiences, some with a stinging feeling of familiarity, others not, some filling one with elating feelings of hope and opportunity, others… not.

Princess Celestia sighed, as she sat on her balcony, deep in melancholy and worry despite the refreshing night breeze.

She thought back to her own humble origins, a family of ordinary peasants long ago, when Equestria was different, darker, and that word, peasant, was commonly used.

She searched in vain for something she could use to relate to her wayward student, shared experiences, longing, something to help impart the wisdom she had learned all those centuries ago.

But she mentally kicked herself at every idea. Orphans aren’t similar to each other just because they’re orphans. Something else was needed.

Sunset Shimmer’s headstrongness had become an iron will, and eventually an indomitable determination. Her desire for knowledge and power had become ambition, and eventually obsession.

All points against Sunset’s character, to be sure, but…

Celestia sighed again.

… Not everypony can gracefully see the path to becoming an immortal alicorn, and then be denied it, even temporarily.

Celestia could. In her great wisdom, forethought, and patience, granted to her by her nigh-incomprehensibly long life, she could stand to wait, and let ascension into an alicorn come when she was ready.

The bitter irony was not lost on her.

She looked up into the night sky, to the fabled Mare in the Moon, and saw her sister staring back at her.

Lessons had to have been learned. It could not all have been in vain.

She stood up, she would send for Sunse– no! She would go to Sunset. The young archmage’s behavior could be infuriating beyond words, and could send even the most unflappable of ponies bristling, but humility was needed. Patience, and understanding, and love, was needed. She did love Sunset Shimmer.

That was when the alarms on the forbidden section of the castle tingled inside her mind.

“No!”

—

The core faculty of Hogwarts reached the innermost chamber.

“And this room is where I will be placing my contribution,” Albus Dumbledore said, calmly.

“While we appreciate the vote of confidence, this is You-Know-Who we are talking about,” said Pomona Sprout. “Any... danger course we will be able to think up will be useless against him.”

“Certainly not,” Dumbledore kindly asserted. “And false modesty is of no use here.”

“I have to also voice the same concerns,” said Filius Flitwick. “It will, at most, be a delaying tactic.”

“Ah, but a little delay can mean so much. And besides, he cannot be everywhere at once, he did have his cadre of followers for a reason.”

Dumbledore did not glance at Severus Snape, Flitwick and Sprout did however, as did Minerva McGonagall, though it was barely perceptible. Snape’s expression did not change.

“And so that will be your task between classes. A bit of… homework, as it were,” Dumbledore added, jovially, as they turned around and started walking back towards the entrance. “My old friend has entrusted us with the safety of his great accomplishment. Let us not disappoint him. Walk with me if you will, Severus. Minerva, please join us at the mirror.”

“Yes, professor Dumbledore,” McGonagall said.

The staff of Hogwarts filed out of the corridor on the third floor, and walked their separate ways, except for Snape and Dumbledore, who calmly strolled down the hallways together.

Dumbledore broke the silence. “Despite the circumstances of the Dark Lord’s temporary demise, we must assume you are of course still in his favor.”

Snape’s expression hardened. “... I have not spoken to him since before his… misfortune.”

“You are valuable to him however, or so he is convinced.”

“He is vindictive.”

“Yes… but you were not alone in clearing the path he walked. Blame can be shifted onto others.”

Snape’s mouth twitched as he fought down both a smile and a snarl as he realized who Dumbledore was talking about.

“Even so, be mindful of what you do and what you say. His servants will do their best to cloak their allegiances. Use that, and do not let them reveal to you that they are out to do his bidding.”

“Of course,” Snape said, with not a hint of emotion in his voice.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, until they reached the empty classroom, in a far corner of the castle, where Minerva McGonagall was approaching them.

“I trust I am not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” Dumbledore said, in a kind voice, as they entered the room with the mirror of Erised. “I assume another barrage of owls sent to the young mister Potter won’t be of any use?”

“No, as expected. Rubeus is ready to leave tonight. I’m sure he will be convincing enough.”

“As am I,” Dumbledore chuckled.

“Unseemingly demanding of the boy,” Snape sneered.

“You know it is not him,” McGonagall chastised Snape, who said nothing.

“Ah, but we must leave the subject of non-magical relatives for now,” Dumbledore said, and stood with his back placed against the mirror, and Snape had to sidle a bit to not get a clear view of it himself.

“Now, as for my plan concerning this–”

That was as far as Dumbledore got before the mirror started glowing intensely, instead of showing what it normally showed, there was a whirlpool of lights and mists, before a blinding light positively exploded out of it, making the two wizards and the witch avert their eyes.

When next they looked, the mirror was back to normal, and Snape had to jerkily avert his eyes from it. That was easier than expected, as there was something else demanding their attention. At the foot of the mirror was something that made even the unflappable Albus Dumbledore open his mouth in surprise for several seconds before he shot forward with a worried frown.

A young girl, with an eye catching mane of fiery red hair with blond streaks running through it, was sprawled on her belly, wearing a set of robes and a shoulder bag, her head to her side, revealing a troubled expression.

Dumbledore quickly drew his wand and wordlessly motioned it over the unconscious girl, his free hand a small distance from her mouth to confirm her breathing.

“Albus?” McGonagall said, in a worried voice.

“Alive, and seemingly unharmed.”

“Who is she?” Snape asked, evenly.

“I do not recognize her. Minerva?”

“No,” said McGonagall. “How could she…? That was not apparition, or phoenix fire, and it was not a house elf.”

“No,” Dumbledore concurred. “Regardless, I believe the medical wing is our next destination.”

Showing a surprising strength, Dumbledore lightly picked up the young girl, and walked out of the classroom, his staff in tow, with only Snape stopping in the doorway to cast one more suspicious glance at the mirror.

—

Poppy Pomfrey liked her job, but disliked actually doing it. It meant, after all, that there was demand for it. Nevertheless, she dutifully patched up the students, and sometimes faculty, of Hogwarts through the years, mending scrapes and lesions, setting bones right, restoring mis-aligned teeth…

... Neutralizing mis-brewed love potions, moving ears from heels back to the head, re-inserting brains into skulls, and once, safely removing a schooner from a nostril.

“Madam Pomfrey?” Dumbledore had gently called from the entrance to the medical wing.

Poppy Pomfrey had looked up from her weekly issue of Time Travelling Monthly and seen the man in question and the reason he was coming to visit. A quick glance at his face had told her she did not literally have to spring into action however.

“Really, headmaster. The semester has not even started yet.”

The headmaster chuckled to himself in his office. Now that the mysterious girl was being cared for, he felt confident that recognising the levity in the situation would not be tasteless.

It had been established that the girl had magical talents, or the wards of the castle would have informed him otherwise. That was good, because it meant he did not have to turn her over to muggle authorities and let them take care of it, even though he had more confidence in their abilities than many others born into the magical world.

Of course, it also meant that it fell to him and his staff to locate the girl’s family.

She looked somewhat like a Weasley with her fiery hair, but Dumbledore felt confident she wasn’t one, as all but two of the Weasley children were attending or had attended Hogwarts. Even so he had penned a quick letter to Molly to affirm the whereabouts of her remaining two children, and not to worry if they were present. The inquiry included Ronald, in case he was under a shapeshifting spell- like the girl, he was supposed to be rather tall after all, like Percival and William.

The headmaster brought the bag the girl had carried with her up to his desk, and gently opened it. She had not had a wand on her person, nor did it seem one was in here.

The contents still gave him pause however. A book and some coin were not the most unique of contents to find in a shoulder bag, but these were not ones Dumbledore was familiar with.

The book was a fairly stout one, with a picture of a red and yellow sun on the cover, the colors matching the girl’s hair. Dumbledore inspected it closely, and there was magic on it.

Whatever spell was on it was powerful, but Dumbledore did not recognise it. Being a rather well-informed wizard, and an old one, and well-schooled in many forms of magic even for his age, Dumbledore was somewhat taken aback by how utterly unfamiliar it felt.

It could have been one he had missed in his many years of study of course. It wasn’t impossible, just… unlikely.

Unlikely to the point where he felt confident enough to dismiss that possibility. Another possibility was that it was particularly old, and from a culture of magic he wasn’t familiar with. In his myriad quests over his life, the older magical arts of Mali for example had never become very relevant.

So if not particularly old, then some magical culture he was particularly unfamiliar with. He opened the book, and saw the contents.

Everyone tended to develop their own style of cursive writing, and some ended up being tricky to decipher, but he did not suspect that this… graceful, to say the least, style of writing was the result of sloppy crow’s feet style of jotting down words. This was a foreign language.

He gently tapped his wand against the pages, and again, and again, a myriad of translation spells slid past the signs on the page, not recognising any of it as forms of communication.

Dumbledore sat deep in thought for a moment, before reaching into the bag again and retrieving one of the gold coins. On it was more writing he did not recognise, and more particularly, the side profile of a serene-looking unicorn with closed eyes, an impossibly lustrous mane, and an incredibly long horn.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair.

An unfamiliar culture indeed.

After a while, he rose to his feet, and walked over to a large, stout cupboard.

Inside, there was a chamber that was larger than the furniture. In that chamber was only one thing- an open book resting on a pedestal, with page after page filled to the brim with names.

At the bottom of the current page was a name that had not been there the day before.

—

Sunset Shimmer was sprawled across a bunk in the medical wing, snoring loudly, her hair looking like a grenade had gone off in it.

To Sunset, waking up and starting to function did not happen at the same time as she gained the ability to form conscious thoughts.

She sat up, smacked her lips loudly to try and dislodge some half-dried saliva, and raised her hand to use digits she had never had before to dislodge the eye-boogers from the bridge of her nose as she blinked her eyes out of sync.

She didn’t remember going to bed with a white curtain like in a hospital around her. In fact, she didn’t remember going to bed at all.

She looked down on her unfamiliar body, and figured that might have something to do with it, before she let herself fall down on her pillow again, not caring enough to get up until she gets ten more minutes.

After a short while, her eyes shot open, and she sat up with lightning speed, but was too scared to actually look at herself.

Eventually, her still murky eyes looked down on her body again. She decided to deal with this later, and went right back to sleep.

Immediately after that, or so it seemed to Sunset, she was awake again, this time she didn’t have the comforting haze of half-wakefulness to shield her from what she had seen before, and deciding that third time's the charm, she made another attempt at inspecting herself.

“Okay, okay, different body. It feels… okay, not in pain. Hmm, no hooves. Paws?” Sunset whispered to herself, as she held her appendages in front of her, and flexed her jaw as she felt around it with her tongue. “No. No tail, no muzzle. These aren’t paws, they’re hands. Some sort of… simian, without a coat.”

After a few moments, she figured out the trick with opposable thumbs, and lifted the cover off of herself. She wasn’t a minotaur, as she had another version of hands at the end of her hindlegs, further showing that she was a simian.

“At least I seem to be a hygienic version of one,” she said to herself.

She actually had to admit that she looked better, a lot better, than she thought she’d look if somepony told her she’d wake up as a species that looked like cousins to great apes.

Her new body had distracted her for too long from her primary concern. She brought her hoof… hand, up to her forehead, and felt the absence of a horn.

This was a setback, but not necessarily more than a temporary one. She closed her eyes, and focused inward.

Her magic was still there. She focused on it, and it stood ready to respond. Without a horn, however, she’d need another outlet... another focus. It wasn’t a trivial task, but just about any part of the body could function as one. It took time, and knowledge, and willpower, but it could be done, and Sunset Shimmer was not some… fumbling novice- in fact, scratch that. Even when she was a fumbling novice, she could run circles around most anypony with her magic.

A pair of voices from beyond the curtain broke Sunset out of her musings.

“... Looks like a perfectly healthy young girl,” a mare said. “I would guess eleven years old, a little tall. The only two strange things I could find were her slightly pointed ears.”

Sunset’s brow creased. That was an old earth pony tongue. Not that it would present a problem of course. It was an efficient and comprehensive language enough.

“Hmm, I must admit I did not inspect her ears through her hair,” a stallion, definitely an older one, said. “Mayhap there’s some goblin blood in her.”

“Physical inheritance might not be my expertise, but judging by the rest of her I would think not. I’d say a nymph is more likely.”

“Perhaps,” the stallion said, sounding amused. “And the other?”

Sunset quietly put the quilt back over her and settled in to listen.

“Well, she’s… you must have noticed, professor, she looks lithe enough, but she is somewhat heavier than one would expect.”

Sunset’s eyebrows rose up from that comment, before falling back down into a scowl.

“May I speak with her?”

Sunset let her head burrow into her pillow again, and she closed her eyes, pretending to be resting.

“I will see if she is awake.”

Sunset heard the curtain being pulled back, and frowned a little at the light washing over her face.

She opened her eyes to see the mare looking at her with a concerned face, and the stallion a little ways behind her.

She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the light, before sitting up and focusing on the two.

“Good…” Sunset glanced out the window, “... day.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” the mare said.

“I said, I-uh mean,” Sunset said, quickly shook her head, and switched to the old earth pony language. “Good day.”

Dumbledore cocked his head slightly. That had been a very scant few words, but he did not recognise the language before she had switched over to English.

“Good day, young miss,” the headmaster said, smiling amicably. “And welcome, unexpected as your visit may have been.”

Pomfrey and Dumbledore couldn’t help but find the girl’s poised manners intriguing, as she calmly glanced around. “Thank you, sir. May I ask where I am?”

“You are in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in the medical wing to be specific.”

Sunset frowned slightly.“Medical wing?” she asked, and frowned a little more. Hogwarts?

“That’s right,” the mare almost-barked, and moved forward to lean over Sunset. “And I’ll have you lying still until I can see you’re unharmed, I will.”

Sunset, in her confusion, let herself be pushed back into a lying position. These creatures looked less like apes by the minute. Their balance and center of gravity being wholly different among many other things, and as with sapient creatures she knew from Equestria, they had a dignified bearing.

“If it helps, I feel fine,” Sunset said, not counting the wholly unfamiliar feeling of only having had a few minutes of conscious time with her current body.

“That’s good, so now we only have to worry about problems you might not feel.”

Sunset squirmed a little uncomfortably. Problems with her body were things she could identify and take steps to rectify. Problems with the mind were trickier. How do you fix a problem when the problem is you not realizing you have a problem?

“Look into the light, please,” madam Pomfrey said, and held up the tip of her glowing wand.

Sunset fought the desire to frown in thought as she did as she was told. This meant that they were magicians, able to actively control the arcane powers, like herself.

“Are you seeing this correctly, dear?” madam Pomfrey asked, a little concerned.

“The light at the end of the… your wand? Yes.”

Madam Pomfrey paused a little, and intensified the light. “Is this bright to you?” she asked, straining her own eyes.

“A little,” Sunset said, not showing any signs of discomfort.

Madam Pomfrey dismissed the light from her wand, and held out a finger in front of Sunset. “Please follow this.”

There was no indication from Sunset that she had stared into a normally uncomfortably bright light, and her teal eyes followed the finger in a relaxed manner.

“Well I… have to say that you seem healthy enough.”

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore said, as Sunset sat up in her bed. “I feel we have delayed introductions long enough. As I said before, welcome to Hogwarts, I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster, and this is my colleague, and the matron of the medical wing, Madam Poppy Pomfrey.”

“Thank you, and pleased to meet you, Albus Dumbledore, Poppy Pomfrey. My name is Sunset Shimmer,” Sunset said, nodding in recognition at the two creatures, just then realizing her name probably sounded as strange to them as theirs did to her, except the name Poppy. At least she hadn’t forgotten to translate it as she said it.

“That is a lovely name, Miss Shimmer,” Dumbledore said, assuaging her worries. “Tell me, how did you come to be here?”

This made Sunset pause. Recent developments back in Canterlot taught her to hold her cards close to her chest, but no effort was required to make her seem ignorant of the answer to this. How had she come here?

She looked down on the sheets covering her as she thought. “I… don’t know.”

“Curious, as neither do we,” said Dumbledore. “Now, may I ask where your parents are?”

“I don’t know. I never knew them,” Sunset said, shortly and easily.

Dumbledore smiled sympathetically at her, even though she showed no signs of sadness. “I apologize. Any other guardian or caretaker then?”

Sunset had noticed that she was of a somewhat smaller physical stature than these two individuals, and if they worked the way most animals worked, in that they stopped growing larger in adulthood, she could presume that she was now physically younger than she had been as a unicorn. It was hard to say how young, but probably not a small child- she suspected there would be more comforting language and reassurances if that was the case.

“Yes, a… tutor,” she said, and had to struggle not to let out a growl as she thought back to Celestia, who had taken her in, comforted her, taught her, trained her, loved her… then let Sunset catch a glimpse of the path to immortality, and denied it to her.

“A tutor? Of… magic?” Dumbledore asked.

“Well, yes, among other things,” Sunset said.

“Where is he, or she?”

“At… her home I suppose.”

“And where is that?”

There were several reasons Sunset didn’t want to tell these people who she was and where she came from. It was clear that she was now on another world, or even another plane of existence, and she had no idea how people here would respond to that. If she believed that, being locked away in a mental asylum might be the least unfriendly thing they’d do.

But really, the main reason Sunset to hold her cards close to her chest was that she had revealed her plans and intentions before, and been stopped from pursuing them. She would not make that mistake again.

“Uhm, it’s…”

Thinking fast about the etymology of the word for her home nation in the language she was currently using, she decided to try and confuse this... Albus Dumbledore.

<<Canterlot,>> she said, in Modern Equestrian.

Dumbledore cocked her head at the alien, but still beautiful name. “I see, and where is that?” he asked, in a kind voice.

<<Equestria.>>

Sunset thought she saw something glimmer in Dumbledore’s eyes, but perhaps it was just a trick of the light, as she also felt a little mentally scrambled, which was understandable considering her situation.

“Never heard of it,” Poppy Pomfrey noted, making Sunset high-hoof herself in her head.

“I assume you’d like to return there?” Dumbledore asked.

Her mind still racing, Sunset went for an answer that didn’t close off any paths while still sounding believable.

She let her gaze fall again, and nodded mutely. “... Yes, but… I’m not sure how to.”

Dumbledore slowly nodded as he considered the facts. “I see. Please forgive me for being blunt, but you are currently new in this land, with no guardian and no means, no?”

Sunset glanced up at his eyes, behind his half-moon spectacles, before her eyes fell down again. She nodded sadly to herself, and to her surprise found it wasn’t all an act.

“Then perhaps you’ll be pleased to know that you are considered eligible as a student at this school.”

Sunset looked up at the headmaster, and considered him for several seconds.

“What do you learn here?”

“The subjects for the first year students, which is what you would be, and there are seven years here, would be the practical subjects involving the direct implementation of magical abilities, they are Charms, Transfiguration, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, use and indirect handling of magical resources, which are herbology and potions, the theoretical subjects of Magical History, and Astronomy, and of course Flying lessons.”

That last part made Sunset pause, as she realized she still had no idea what the species she now found herself as was called, or if there was just one type like gryphons, or many kinds like ponies. Were there winged ones as well?

She focused on the matter at hand, and simply decided to keep her ears open to pick up as much as possible.

“I see,” she said, nodding to herself. “What’s the catch?”

Dumbledore cocked his head and considered the question for a moment. “Oh, well, there are of course certain rules when attending the school as a student, and conducts that are enforced. You will of course be expected to attend classes, obey curfew, and show respect and deference to the staff and faculty. Of course, besides the education you’d be receiving, there will also be a dormitory available during the semesters, including the winter holidays, as well as free meals, access to the school library, postal services, various things like that.”

“And what would this cost?”

“Nothing but your time and effort, should you wish it.”

Sunset looked at the headmaster for several seconds. “It sounds amazing. In fact, it sounds too good to be true,” she carefully noted. “And you know what they say about that I assume?”

Dumbledore simply smiled. “If it worries you, I’m sure some benefits can be stripped out for you.”

Sunset smiled wryly. “... Alright then, deal.”

“Wonderful!” Dumbledore said, and clapped his hands together. “I shall set my deputy headmaster to confirm the paperwork. When it does, I’m afraid you are going to have to start referring to the faculty as ‘sir,’ ‘ma’am,’ or ‘professor,’ so I recommend you get used to it soon.”

Sunset nodded. “I understand, professor.”

“Splendid. We will talk more later. Now, I’ve kept Madam Pomfrey from shooing me out of her wing for far too long.”

“You have indeed,” the mare said, and pushed at Dumbledore towards the door. “Not let the poor girl rest before lunch.”

The two… individuals, walked away. Walked, not swinging in branches and vines, Sunset noted.

As their footsteps echoed away into the hallways, Sunset simply shook her head in disbelief. “Second strangest morning I’ve ever had,” she said to herself, and set to familiarise herself further to her new body.

She gently heaved herself out of bed and set her feet on the floor, before immediately pulling them back up into the bed again. “Gah! That’s cold.”

She noticed the… black, vaguely L-shaped leather tubes on the floor, and assumed that the… whatever the hind hands were called, feet if she remembered correctly, goes in them. As she figured out how they worked, she noticed a bag on the table beside her bunk, and a small mirror.

Sunset looked into it, before nodding to herself, and her messy hair. “So this is how I look,” she said, and shook her hair into position. “Not bad.”

She opened the bag, and noticed it had the contents she had left Equestria with. It, like herself, had probably changed shape to be a little more appropriate.

Of course, she could also feel the scent of the old stallion inside it, and on her book. She immediately felt a little better about the previous conversation, as it was clear that she wasn’t the only one not revealing everything.

—

“Is something wrong, headmaster?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, not at all,” Dumbledore said, relaxing his expression and giving his medical witch a relaxed smile. “I’m just trying to decide whether I’d currently like a lemon sherbet or a lemon popsicle.”

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. It was impossible to get straight answers out of the man when he was like this.

But he was deep in thought. The girl was hiding something. Of course, Dumbledore had worked in a school for the better part of a century, that children hid things were not exactly news to him.

But it was the way she hid them that was so intriguing, and perhaps worrying, if indeed it was she hiding them.

Dumbledore had always been accepting of the flaws in others, except when it came to actual malevolence and evil. His potions teacher, for example, had flaws that would outrage the most serene of souls, but Dumbledore tolerated them, because he did not want to be a hypocrite, and he was not above some morally questionable actions himself. Always for what he felt was the greater good of course, but never forgetting that they were just that, morally questionable.

Speaking of his potions professor, the girl reminded Dumbledore of Snape, both with how similar, and how different they were, when speaking with them.

Specifically when it came to the shields they had over their minds. Trying legilimens on Snape, or, for lack of a better term, ‘read his mind’ was like finding a tome with an imposingly stout iron lock on it.

Trying to read Miss Shimmer’s mind however, for the short time he had tried it, was like finding oneself in a messy bookstore at an airport, and you only knew a little bit of the language, and whenever you saw something you recognized, it gave you instructions to look elsewhere, which led to instruction to look elsewhere, which after several steps told you to go back and take a left instead, until it felt you were trapped in a maze, and you also had a plane to catch.

It was all he could do to not grunt in frustration when he managed to pull out, thankfully unharmed.

If this was a spell placed on her by someone else… Perhaps it was a good thing that her ending up in Britain, or even in this world, which was a notion Dumbledore couldn’t help but toy with, was a fluke. If it was she herself that was behind those fiendishly clever defences…

Dumbledore would just have to get to know her well enough to judge her character by traditional means.

An event as this could have come at a better time. Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts, and there was still much more planning and preparation to be done.

Whether the girl would be a factor, and if so, what kind, remained to be seen.

But… Dumbledore was dedicated to the protection and wellbeing of his students. A little more paperwork and that would include the young Sunset Shimmer.

Unique-Horn

Sunset knew that she was in a castle without anyone having told her. She knew castles, or at least knew them enough to be able to tell this much. She had lived in one for years after all.

She walked over to a window, the shape of her footwear helping her figure out that she ought to walk on her pastern, which felt both odd and natural at the same time, and looked out into the enormous courtyard.

Relatively enormous at least. While it was an impressive castle, with towers and wings and crenellations and battlements and flying buttresses for days, she’d seen bigger.

It was a small town of a castle- very impressive, and yet, Sunset couldn’t help but feel a little sting of nostalgia for Canterlot castle, a large town of a castle, and not just a castle, a palace as well.

Sunset shook her head. Her analysis was clear, she went through the mirror shortly before it went dormant for over two years. It would have been closed for hours now, so no point in getting homesick. This is where she would be in the foreseeable future.

She really ought to get on with realigning her magic focus, but she could forgive herself if she took some time out from this strange experience.

Then again, she was Sunset Shimmer, and she wasn’t going to gain greater power by just doing nothing. With a furrowed brow, she sat down on the bed again, closed her eyes, and started on the long process of redirecting her flow of magic power towards other parts of her body.

There was something special about unicorn horns. There was nothing like them in all of Equestria, but they were also mostly keratin, just like hair and claws. A unicorn’s horn was better at channeling magic, that is true, but an artist of Sunset’s skill could paint with a boomerang, in a storm.

Slowly, gently, Sunset began guiding her magic, the potential for remaking the world, from the part of her that was beyond the material, to her physical body, and making an opening, just a trickle, towards her hair and the claws on her fingers, and she couldn’t help but show a smirk as she felt it working.

“Miss Sunset Shi–” the voice of a mare Sunset didn’t recognise said, and then cut off.

Sunset opened her eyes to see an elder mare, tall and with her mane in a tight bun, staring at her with her eyes wide.

“... Yes, ma’am?” Sunset said, as her fingernails stopped glowing and her mane did the same while coming to rest around her head the way gravity intended.

The mare rallied, and cleared her throat.

“Miss Sunset Shimmer, I am Minerva McGonagall, professor and teacher of transfiguration here at Hogwarts.”

Sunset gently inclined her head towards the tall mare. “Pleased to meet you, Professor Minerva McGonagall.”

Sunset noticed the barest hint of amusement, maybe, on the teacher’s face.

“And you, Miss Shimmer, though you need not use your teacher’s full name, their surnames will suffice.”

Sunset nodded in an easy way, but inside her mind was rabidly cataloguing everything she needed to blend in on this world.

“Now, Madam Pomfrey has given you a clean bill of health. If you are well you will follow me.”

Sunset nodded, relieved that she had already figured out the mystery of the boots before this, and stood up, ready to follow the supremely tightly wound hair knot, and her mane.

The two walked in silence, clearly intended to be uncomfortable for Sunset, which really made it less so for her. Sunset smirked to herself– teachers who wanted to make students’ lives miserable always loudly telegraphed their intentions to her, informing her who to be on her guard around.

The castle wasn’t as luxurious and opulent as Canterlot Castle, not by a long shot. In fact, it was barely that at all, but it was impressive, the sense of history she thought herself sensing deep in the stone, the armors on the walls, and the paintings of people who followed them with their eyes.

Still, it could do with a few personal towers. Sunset had one in Equestria. You can’t be a proper wizard without a tower.

“Ah!” someone said to their side. “Have classes started early this semester?”

Sunset looked to her side, and was too shocked to cry out by what she saw, only barely staying upright as she backpedalled away from the anathema of all that is good in the world.

“Not quite, Friar,” said Mcgonagall, and looked back at Sunset, who was staring at the phantasm with eyes wide, trying not to make it too obvious that she was pressing herself against the wall. “One student simply found herself here early.”

“I see,” the floating, silvery image of a portly friar said happily, and put a piece of equally silvery bit of cheese in his mouth. “That’s a relief- I couldn’t remember any sorting ceremony yet. Almost afraid my mind was going there. Well, welcome to Hogwarts then, feel free to ask us anything.”

The friar seemed to be busy with other things, presumably that passed over cheese, as he didn’t stop to talk more, just nodding his head and smiled at Sunset and floated on through a wall.

“... What was…?” Sunset tried.

“That was The Friar, the ghost of House Hufflepuff,” said McGonagall, staring a little impatiently at Sunset.

The words sunk in, and Sunset rapidly relaxed. Ghosts. Reflections of minds left behind and lingering in the mortal realms. Rare but harmless, indeed often helpful, unlike the true living dead, the collective memories of which still haunted Equestrians despite not appearing again since ancient history.

Still, Sunset thought to perhaps take some more care to not underestimate this world. It clearly had surprises and powers of its own.

Sunset coughed a little, and straightened up. “Well, sorry for the interruption,” she said, and stood ready to continue again.

“... Quite,” McGonagall said, looking at Sunset for a moment more, before continuing.

They briskly walked up towards a gargoyle at the end of a hallway, which stepped aside to reveal a circular staircase behind it. Sunset thought this was very elaborate, perhaps needlessly so, since the merits of simple doors hadn’t been lost on these creatures, as she saw one at the top of the stairs.

That Sunset essentially had to walk with another set of hands pointing forward at the end of her legs proved a little tricky when it came to stairs, and she had to take great care to not stumble over the steps. It was a strange design choice, Sunset thought, to have such clearly hoof-friendly elements in the architecture of a building for creatures so adapted to living in trees. Better perhaps to have some sort of ladder?

“Are you well, Miss Shimmer?” McGonagall asked, looking back at Sunset and her slow, deliberate ascent.

“I’m fine,” Sunset said, a little tersely, just as she figured out that walking on her front footpads, as Harmony intended for her, was acceptable in the case of stairs. “Thank you.”

The door opened just as the mare took the last steps on the stair, with Sunset following her into a circular room, filled with silvery instruments, paintings, bookshelves, esoteric knick-knacks, and old people.

Headmaster Dumbledore was sitting behind a desk, also filled with magical paraphernalia, with one tiny person and one huge person on the other side of the desk.

“Ah, Minerva, and Miss Shimmer. Please, come in,” Dumbledore said. “Miss Shimmer, allow me to introduce Professor Filius Flitwick, professor of charms, and Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and game here at Hogwarts. Filius, Rubeus, Miss Sunset Shimmer.”

“Pleased ter meet ya,” the giant said, holding out a hand in greeting like gryphons would their talons, which Sunset shook.

“Likewise,” Sunset said, amazed at the range of size among these creatures.

“So, the mysterious child,” the other one, Flitwick, said in a cheerful tone, as he shook her hand as well. “I understand you’ve had some previous magical training? I hope you won’t upset the house prestige system too much, although I guess some mixing up would be in order… ah, please don’t tell Severus I said that.”

Sunset half-raised her arm at one of the books on a shelf, and her hair was briefly buffeted as if by a breeze and a slight glow appeared around her hands as the magic power shot through them.

The book shot straight into Sunset’s hand, and she held it up to her face to inspect it. “Yes, but I don’t recognize any of this, so I suspect I’m not too far ahead.”

She looked up from the book when she noticed the silence. All the old people were looking at her silently, McGonagall clearly trying to hold back surprise, Hagrid’s mouth hanging open, while Flitwick and Dumbledore looked amused.

“Hoho!” The short one said, turning to Dumbledore. “We’ll have our hands full with this one.”

“Indeed we may,” he agreed. “Well, Miss Shimmer, we have withdrawn an amount of money from a fund for those without means, which will cover basic books and materiel for you first year of school, and if you accept, funds to cover lodging and meals for the remaining three days before school at a lovely inn called The Leaky Cauldron, whereupon you will, as stated before, be granted access to a dormitory, and provided meals.

“Now, of course, I assume you will be wanting a guide to help you with your purchases in an unfamiliar location, and who can provide further instructions on how to get back here in time for the school term to start.”

Sunset did think that would be helpful, but she also felt she was just barely able to keep up her facade of being from this world, and a member of… whatever species she was, as it was, and was eager to get out from beneath an authority’s gaze and observe from a more comfortable distance.

Three days should be more than enough to familiarize herself enough to shop for school books and a uniform on her own.

“I think I’ll be fine actually,” Sunset said, in an as neutral tone as she could manage.

“Well o’ course yer will be,” Hagrid said, kindly. “But galleons ‘s scarce with student funds. Wouldn’t do ter have someone short-change ye and ye’ll not ‘ave enough for a wand.”

“Indeed, it would be prudent for someone to accompany you,” McGonagall added, and Sunset thought her voice seemed warmer than before.

But what made Sunset really pause was Dumbledore, who stared at her in silence for several moments, with an expression Sunset had seen before, but had trouble placing, but he seemed… sad?

“If that is your wish, we will not force our presence upon you.”

Something turned inside Sunset. “Well, gee, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. If anyone wants to help me shop, go ahead.”

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore said. “Hagrid here is busy helping another expected student. Minerva?”

“I am… available,” she said, a little hesitantly.

“As am I, if we can take a few hours off from comparing notes,” Flitwick said.

“Of course.” Dumbledore nodded.

“Thank you,” McGonagall said.

“If you are free to leave right now, Miss Shimmer, then so am I,” the small creature said cheerfully.

—

After they had left, Dumbledore leaned back into his chair and thought about this strange development.

Secrecy, power, and independence. He had seen this before. Hopefully the girl’s polite demeanor wasn’t all a front, like one of Dumbledore’s greatest regrets.

—

Sunset stumbled slightly as she stepped out of the fireplace, and stood there for a moment, staring dead ahead and wondering if what she thought just happened actually did happen. It did, and it was the strangest, clumsiest form of magical travel she had ever seen.

“Ah, The Cauldron,” Flitwick said, stepping out behind her. “Hello, Tom.”

They were standing in a… rustic… old bar, thought charming in many ways. Lanterns and oil lamps lit it up, though barely, revealing tables and booths in the dim, orange light, with hooded and robed figures all around, not looking up. Stepping out of fireplaces were apparently commonplace.

An old stallion stood behind the counter, washing a mug. “‘Ello, professor,” he said in a clear voice, despite his lack of teeth. “Wha’ brings ye ‘ere?”

Sunset wondered if everypony in this world except her looked really old.

“Some relaxing shopping,” Flitwick said, and gestured to Tom to come closer.

Flitwick stood up on a chair, and leaned in to whisper into Tom’s ear.

Sunset was a little distracted, and not for the first time, by her ears being stationary, despite the whispered conversation.

Still, she figured out what the conversation was about. Flitwick mentioned Dumbledore, the word “stay”, and Tom’s eyes flicked towards Sunset and shot up, before nodding solemnly at the tiny teacher.

A part of Sunset wanted to speak up and say that they didn’t need to throw sympathy at her, but then again, she was technically an orphan. Either way, no good could have come from it.

“Sunset Shimmer, this is Tom, the innkeeper of The Leaky Cauldron, where you’ll be staying for a few days. Tom, this is Sunset Shimmer.”

“Aye, pleased ter meet ya.”

“Likewise,” Sunset said.

“Well, we must get going,” Flitwick said. “We’ll see you later, Tom.”

“Aye.”

They walked out into the courtyard in the back, with Sunset looking around and taking in the sights all the time, though she was more focused on the magic that permeated the place. There were clearly illusion spells all around, though none that affected her, as well as transformation spells ahead of her.

“Now, please pay attention,” Flitwick said, and drew a wand from his robe, tapping it on a specific set of bricks, making the wall open up and reveal a busy street. “This is Diagon Alley.”

Sunset hadn’t really memorized what he had done, but it didn’t really matter, the spell was obvious and the bricks were so stained with magic she couldn’t overlook it even if she tried.

Her eyes were instead drawn towards the street in front of her. A long, winding path, lined with shops and businesses that went on and on.

Flitwick let her have a moment, standing patiently and smiling at Sunset taking it all in.

And Sunset did need a moment, though she was perhaps more calculating than one would suspect.

Sunset strongly suspected that the creatures of this world couldn’t detect magic as she could, or they’d take steps to clean out the layers, sediments really, of decaying old spells, and raw magic power that was coating everything, slowly evaporating over generations.

It was actually quite worrying, like if someone never, ever cleaned their bathroom, year after year, decade after decade. Luckily it was just strange, rather than unhygienic, and didn’t put a damper on Sunset’s appetite.

Still, it had to interfere with magical research, and even many normal spells. Sunset strongly suspected that the street had been straight at one point, and was becoming more and more twisted. Or perhaps that it had been a round circuit, and was slowly straightening out.

It didn’t seem to bother anypony here though, so it probably wasn’t a problem. Still, you could never keep Canterlot so magically dirty that it warped streets, however slowly- it was built on the side of a mountain after all.

Sunset was also now fairly sure that there was only one type of… whatever she was. She saw no wings, no horn, or nothing else that put them apart from each other besides size. There were no flying creatures in the sky either.

Suddenly, a mare in a black robe and a funny hat appeared next to Sunset and Flitwick with a bang, practically spraying them with excess magic.

She walked past them as if she hadn’t noticed them, and perhaps she hadn’t, but Flitwick seemed undisturbed by the display.

Sunset changed her mind. Floo travel was not the worst way to travel magically. That was. It was almost fascinating, being so sloppy, unsafe, and accomplishing less than proper teleportation.

“Ah, yes, that was apparition, which you’ll no doubt learn yourself in a few years–” Sunset balked at the thought “–You still have your shoulder bag? Good. Now, please come along,” Flitwick said, and noticed that Sunset hadn’t moved. “Miss? Are you quite alright?”

Sunset had stopped in the opening in the brick wall, and looked around her suspiciously, before registering the teacher’s words. “Y… yes, I’m alright,” she said, and carefully strode past the wall into Diagon Alley.

“Now, I have seen you do some magic without a wand, which isn’t exactly unusual, but you will of course need one for any magic that requires control and sophistication, and I suggest we do so first, and I can go take care of some financial business while you pick one out.”

“Yes, professor,” Sunset said, glad she was walking behind him, as she was rolling her eyes so much she was starting to get dizzy.

Sunset reined herself in though. Flitwick was an interesting enough stallion to listen to, as he enthusiastically told Sunset tidbits of history, political drama, and a few personal exploits about the places they passed.

Apparently, the people who knew of and could wield magic were in a vast minority in this world, taking great care to hide themselves from non-magical humans (“muggles”. Strange term) and every magical man, woman, and child were bound by ancient conventions to never reveal magic to them

Humans, men, women, boys, girls, and children- Sunset mentally printed the word down and let out a sigh of relief. Finally, she knew the most basic terms for the people of this world. She was a girl, rather than a mare or a filly.

There were other things she was soaking up like a sponge as well, like how everyone, another helpful term, were dressed at all times, which made sense with the lack of coats, and how they were apparently omnivores, and so on.

Many differences to be sure, but none in truly fundamental ways. These beings, humans, they had language, arts, culture, and commerce. They used the insides of their heads to think, they breathed air, ate food, some lived in cities, some out in the country, the sky was blue, clouds were white or grey, gravity held people on the ground, and they existed in three dimensions. She could get used to this

Sunset still wondered what the point of hiding themselves from non-magical beings was, but figured she’d have to wait before getting the answer to that.

“Here we are. Garrick Ollivander, of the Olivanders.”

“And this is the finest store for wands, which is one of the cornerstones of the magical way of life?” Sunset asked, looking at the small and sort of shabby place.

“Indeed,” Flitwick said, and opened the door. “Come along now.”

The inside of the small store was dusty and little dark, with shelves going to the ceiling, all filled with neat little packages.

“Why, Filius,” a elderly stallion… man, suddenly said, from the teacher’s side, making him jump a little into the air. “I have to assume you’re not here for a new wand. You always showed great responsibility when it came to that.”

Sunset had to struggle not to shake her head at the sight of yet another old person.

“No, I am here with the young Miss Sunset Shimmer, a soon-to-be student.”

Ollivander turned to look at Sunset, freezing on the spot.

“Well, I shall be back momentarily,” Flitwick said. “Don’t worry about payment my dear, that will be covered.”

“... Yes,” Ollivander said, a bit distractedly, as Flitwick exited. “Yes indeed.”

Sunset stood her ground as the wandmaker gently raised a hand, and strode up to Sunset as if she was a scared rabbit he was sneaking up on, despite her looking straight at him.

He gently brushed a finger against her hair, humming to herself.

“I don’t want to be rude,” Sunset said, a bit coldly, “but I was led to believe that I could get a wand here.”

Ollivander pulled back his fingers as if Sunset’s hair was suddenly red hot. “Yes… yes indeed,” he said to himself, before turning and taking a look into Sunset’s eyes, then smiled a little and swished back to a shelf behind the counter.

“A wand is the limb of a witch or wizard,” Ollivander said, searching through the shelves (Sunset still thought it was strange that “wizard” was a gendered term). “A channel for their inner magical abilities. I favor the phoenix feather, the dragon heartstrings, and of course the hair of unicorns, which is what I think of when I see you, my dear. Curious. Every part of a unicorn is filled with powerful magic. Difficult to make them part with their hairs of course, but always a pleasure to work with. Wonderful creatures. Yes, absolutely wonderful.”

Sunset folded her arms. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said, before she could stop herself.

Ollivander’s wide-eyed gaze shot towards Sunset, making him look like a startled owl.

He quickly tiptoed back up to her, taking a lock of her hair in his hand and inspecting it closely, before looking into Sunset’s eyes, startled.

“My lady!” he gasped, and just continued looking at her for a moment. “... How?”

Sunset shrugged casually, and realized she had just lied. She did feel a bit more favorably inclined towards Ollivander. “Long story, but I’m gonna make the best of it.” She raised an eyebrow at the man. “It’s not a problem I hope.”

“No,” Ollivander said, forcefully, then calmed down. “No, it is not, but perhaps I may…?”

Sunset reached up to her head, and pulled out three long strands of hair between her thumb and index finger, which she held out to Ollivander.

Confidence seemed to come back to Ollvander, and he smiled and set to work. Sunset found herself a little surprised as he raised her arms and measured the span of them, and her height, even her girth, all the while talking to himself.

“Hmm, strong, healthy, and no wonder. Powerful, of course, and quick. Nothing to ease the use is required, in fact perhaps the opposite. Unusual… of course. Holly, maybe, but perhaps… redundant. Yew… maybe, or perhaps something… yes, something… exotic.”

He stalked towards the back of the store, clutching the three hairs. Sunset leaned over the counter to see him bent over a desk, digging through a box.

“Yes, yes, here,” he muttered to himself, and walked out of Sunset’s sight.

For about fifteen minutes, all she heard was the tapping and knocking of wood on wood, with the occasional mumbling from Ollivander, before he emerged again, a wand in his hand.

“Here,” he said, and held it out to Sunset. “Post oak, eleven and a half inches, thick and stout. Difficult to wield for most, but… perhaps not for you.”

Sunset gently took it, and it felt warm, familiar and… ready. Ready for her to use it to alter reality around her.

It wasn’t vital, she could get along fine without it, but it was one tool among many on her quest, which she hadn’t given up on. If anything, her resolve was only stronger.

She gave it a little flick, and a red and golden feather gently appeared at the tip.

Ollivander leaned forward to look at it. “Despite appearances… not a phoenix feather,” he said, smiling almost conspiratorially at Sunset.

At this point, Flitwick entered the store, with a jovial look on his face. “Ah, all done?” he asked. “Seven Galleons.”

Flitwick reached up and put the coins in a neat little stack on the counter, and Ollivander gave them the merest nod of recognition. “Thank you, Filius,” he said, and gently reached for Sunset’s hand, which she held out for him. He carefully took it in his own, and bowed very slightly. “It has been an honor.”

“Thank you,” she said, surprising herself with how she meant it.

Flitwick’s looked back and forth between Sunset and Ollivander, surprised, as they exited the store.

“Made an impression on him then?”

“I suppose so.”

Sunset held out the red and gold feather, and twirled it slightly in her fingers. No indeed, it was not a phoenix’s feather, and it wasn’t real either… but one day.

The books had to be bought second hoof… hand, and Sunset was glad that Flitwick had come with her by now, as he was obviously a popular figure in this place, being familiar and on friendly terms with just about every store-owner and most of their employees, and so they were very willing, almost eager, to dig up the best books despite their tight budget.

Of course, he didn’t say anything out loud, but the fact that the professor asked for the cheaper options made everyone look at Sunset with sad eyes, nodding solemnly at the professor.

“Poor dear,” said Madam Malkin, who was less reserved in her sympathy than others, muttering to herself as she measured Sunset. “Foul business it was. Absolutely horrid. Hells take them all I say.”

Sunset was memorising it all as best as she could without understanding what she was referring to. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be inappropriate, and perhaps even a little sympathetic, to act stoically when being reminded that she was an orphan.

And… it was technically true.

“... And left destitute. Well, I’ll not have a girl as pretty as you leave the store with rags, I’ll whip up something fetching, don’t you worry.”

“... Thank you,” Sunset said. It hadn’t yet turned into asking who her parents had been and how that “foul business” had affected her, and luckily it didn’t before she could leave the store.

Sunset thanked the proprietor, and grabbed her bag from the corner, which was filled with so many books it weighed more than Flitwick. He looked on in astonishment as she threw it over her shoulder like it was filled with feathers.

“Professor?” Sunset asked, as they walked down the street, Sunset’s new clothes in a package underneath her arm and a wide, pointy hat on her head. “Everyone here seems… uhm… actually, do any of my books cover recent history, some… ten, fifteen years ago?”

“Indeed they do. I believe that Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts covers what you’re wondering about.”

“Thank you.”

Sunset could only hope she hadn’t revealed too much about herself with that little inquiry. Flitwick didn’t press her on it though.

“And here we are,” Flitwick said, as they returned to the yard behind The Leaky Cauldron. “I’ve made all the arrangements with Tom, the innkeep you’ll recall. The fund has covered your stay up until the first of September, three days from now. You’ll have a room here and four meals per day until then. All your papers are in your bag I hope? Booklist, letter of admission?”

Sunset nodded, patting the bag.

“Good. Now, you are free to come and go as you like, both in Diagon Alley and muggle society, though I recommend you do not stray too far. London is a large and sometimes scary place,” Flitwick said, and his eyes became stern, though not unkind. “And you are of course not allowed to do magic around muggles, or there will be severe consequences. You are technically allowed to discuss magic subjects with them, though I don’t recommend it. The poor dears won’t understand and will probably think you’re funny in the head.”

Sunset kept herself from frowning in thought. Even on just one shopping trip she had picked up a lot of disdain for non-magical humans, and even the kind and patient Professor Flitwick didn’t seem to have very high thoughts about them.

“And of course follow the rules of underage magic. You also have the instructions on how to get to King’s Cross Station?” Flitwick asked.

“Yes.”

“Good, that should be everything. I realize it is a little frustrating to be stuck here, right by Diagon Alley, with no funds to entertain yourself. As a professor, it would be inappropriate to play favorites, but less so if it’s a secret. So… here.”

With a pleasant tinging sound, Flitwick flipped a golden coin at Sunset, who managed to catch it in her lap. “It’s not much, but it’ll buy you a meal on the Hogwarts Express. It’s a long ride.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sunset said, once again not having to fake any emotions.

“That should be everything. I’ll see you in a few days then.”

“See you, professor,” Sunset said, as Flitwick stepped into the fireplace and vanished.

Tom, who had stood patiently behind her, approached a little closer. “‘Ello again, Miss Shimma’, oi’ll show ya to ye room.”

Tom, like many others in this place, reminded Sunset of particularly rustic earth ponies. The urban kind you got in the really old parts of Fillydelphia.

She let herself fall down onto the bed, breathing long, heavy sighs of relief at having gone through the entire shopping round without any real hiccup. She calmed herself with making a list of things she needed to do, and starting to assign priorities.

She needed to find out more about the world, and figure out how to do that, as well as developing a feel for things in general, common names and such, pastimes, more human-specific terms and various things needed to blend in.

Start studying the subjects at school. That was a given. There was also the matter of the wand, a strange kind of magic not common in Equestria, with its own spells and rules and…

… That’s right. Speaking of spells, this had to come first.

She sat up and magically inspected herself. True enough, the sensation she had felt when passing through the hole in the brick wall was indeed from a spell. It was a strange one, but only because Sunset wasn’t very used to construction techniques in this world.

It was a surveillance spell, which fed information about magic readings on and around her to somewhere else- most likely that much-talked-about Ministry of Magic.

“Cast a spell on me, will you?” Sunset said, and held out her hands.

Magic power surged through her fingers as she prodded the weave of the magic.

Sunset strongly suspected that very few, if any, humans could detect and analyze magic like she could, since there were very few protections against tamperings with the spell. That did of course make Sunset inspect it even closer, in case a function like that was trickilly hidden, but no, it wasn’t.

With a few snips and some redirection, the surveillance spell was altered to only send negatives.

This was probably illegal, but Sunset felt as justified as she could. If people could cast spells on her without her consent, she could do what she wanted with them. If she wasn’t to tamper with it, the authorities should have informed her of it. How was she to know?

With a pleased smirk, Sunset was about to inspect her wand closer, when there was a knock on the door.

“Miss Shimma’? Dinner is ready.”

Wands later. It had been quite a day.

Meeting New People And Old People

The next morning, Sunset was sitting down in the restaurant area, Tom apparently didn’t mind that students were studying there, reading her books, a wallpaper of sound behind her, made up of muttered conversations, clinkings of cutlery, and the crackling of the fire.

Suddenly, the room was absolutely silent, as everyone was focused on something by the entrance.

Sunset leaned to look around the fireplace blocking her view, but by then, there was a crowd doing that instead.

Rubeus Hagrid was there though, which was hard to miss, looking amused at something next to him, about his knee-height. He saw her and waved at her. A little distracted by her curiosity, she waved back.

It was clear that someone named Harry Potter was there, which is what caused the stirr. After about fifteen minutes of fawning, bowing, and handshaking, Hagrid eventually had to lead a thin colt… boy, towards Diagon Alley.

He caught her eyes as he looked around, and she nodded in recognition towards him.

Curiosity flared up inside her, and she dug out the history books Flitwick had mentioned, checked the index, and saw that he was a central player in about a quarter of the book.

A quick summary at the earliest mention told Sunset that some ten years ago, some frighteningly powerful wizard called “the dark lord” emphasis on the, something else that might deserve some research, had for some reason personally gone to kill Harry Potter’s family. Despite being powerful enough to wage war against magical society as a whole, he had killed Harry’s parents, but failed to kill Harry Potter himself, and had perished in the attempt.

Sunset looked up at the doorway to the alley that Harry and Hagrid had recently gone through, intrigued.

Not that going up and getting a close look would’ve done much. He didn’t look like he had time to stop and talk anyway, and if he can kill really powerful wizards as a baby, then perhaps he was best studied from a distance.

Shortly after the buzz surrounding Harry Potter had died down, a black-clad trio stepped through the fireplace, a stallion, a mare, and a colt. Of course, everyone here was clad in black, but most didn’t have silver chains and linings adorning their clothes. Their manes, “hair” around here, were immaculate, and held flat against their heads.

Sunset would know their kind no matter what universe she was in. Rich people. A certain flavor of rich people too- second-place rich people.

In the grand pyramid of society, all the tiers are instinctively unwilling to accept those from below into their tier. It was particularly amusing higher up, where people had more power to prevent others from ascending, but where those just below were relatively few and could be very useful and accumulate a lot of favors.

“Important” people could be practically bred for, and spend their entire lives doing very little other than juggling favors and parcels of, mostly imagined, privilege, power, and recognition.

It took years before Sunset realized just how cleverly Celestia had boxed in the nobility. Common ponies didn’t realize the sheer amount of favor currying and drama that went on in the high echelons of society, and the nobility didn’t realize that they were but a weight, although be it one she had lessened considerably, on Equestrian society as it slowly and with consideration marched ever onwards towards greater heights of power and harmony.

So long as the nobles had their manors, and medals, and fancy restaurants that commoners were not allowed to visit, and their special boxes in the theatres, Celestia only needed to prod and rearrange matters ever so slightly to keep noble society a self-perpetuating bubble of isolation, barely affecting the countless lives of her little ponies.

“Witness now, the folly of well-dressed dancers,” she once said, in a strangely dramatic manner, as she stamped a counter-proposal to build a new bridge somewhere in Canterlot.

From that came a flurry of activity, whisperings, favor-currying, meetings disguised as dinner parties, and even a wedding or two. It was… dizzying, and all from a well-placed smidgen of red ink on a paper.

Sunset shook the thoughts of Celestia out of her head. She didn’t need to dwell on her now.

Point was that these rich people were powerful and wanted others to know it, displaying it in that manner Sunset was very familiar with by now.

Their clothes and bearings shouted “we are the most powerful!”, but which Sunset knew to mean “We are not quite as powerful as we would like you to think and we really don’t want you to realize that.”

The stallion… man, glanced at Tom, who nodded and smiled at him, but was ignored as the trio instead walked up to a… frankly ugly mare, or woman, whom they greeted as a friend.

The colt… boy, seemed wholly uninterested. The woman addressed him briefly, but only gave her a short reply, then walked off, looking bored.

Either way, Sunset figured it wasn’t her business, and went back to reading.

Apparently, many of the enemy agents and combatants during the dark lord’s war had been cleared of charges due to being coerced and magically influenced. Sunset felt the inquiries had been wrapped up rather quickly for such a complicated state of affairs.

She became aware of a presence, and looked up at the boy standing next to her

“... Hello?” she ventured.

“Hello. What are you reading?”

“Modern Magical History,” Sunset said, angling the cover so he could see it. “Why?”

The boy shrugged. “Just curious,” he said, and sat down. “I’m Draco Malfoy.”

Sunset felt she had missed a few steps in their acquaintanceship. “Sunset Shimmer.”

“That’s a strange name,” Draco said, without any compunction. The conversation wasn’t getting easier for Sunset to follow. “That book’s on my list. Are you a first year?”

“In a few days, yes,” Sunset said, still not having turned to face Draco properly.

Draco hummed, and looked around. “Are you alone? I don’t see anyone else. You’re not a Weasley are you?”

Sunset gave up, and simply leaned back and went along with this. “I have no idea what that is.”

“Good,” Draco said, and was silent for a few moments. “Do you play quidditch?”

Sunset did know what quidditch was, vaguely. “No.”

“Oh. What house are you going to be in?”

From what Sunset knew, this wasn’t something one would know before they started in the school. “I don’t know yet.”

“Mmm. I’m going to be in Slytherin. That’s where my parents were. What house were your parents in? They weren’t muggles, were they?”

They were not. Sunset Shimmer could trace her lineage back to the ancient house of Platinum, the proud history of which dated back to before the founding of Equestria, thousands of years ago.

Of course, even to this day about half of all ponies in Equestria could do so in some way. House Platinum had been vast before it very slowly and gradually faded, but that was beside the point.

“No.”

“Good–” Sunset narrowed her eyes a little “– So you’re reading textbooks? I guess that’ll have to do for most. It’s so unfair that we can’t do magic outside of school, isn’t it?”

Sunset could agree on that. “Yes it is.”

“My father has been pulling strings and letting me practice at home. Should put me ahead of most, perhaps even some second years. You’ll see, I’ll be the top of the class.”

Sunset nodded silently at Draco, searching for words and being completely lost as to who he was and why he was talking to her. “I’m sure I will.”

“Come along, Draco,” the woman said, glancing at Sunset past her nostrils.

Sunset couldn’t have been offended even if she wanted to. She was too busy trying to figure out what the hay was with these people.

“Bye,” the boy said.

“... Goodbye?”

Sunset watched them leave, and remembered seeing Hogwarts: A History, in the bookstore yesterday.

She got up, stretched, and decided it was time for some on-hands research.

Quick glances out the windows were all that was required to see that the clothes she had arrived with would blend in much better than the school uniform in the muggle world.

She walked up to her room and emptied her bag, walked down and nodded at Tom, and stepped out onto the streets.

There was a lot of slow sauntering and leaning against lamp posts involved in understanding the non-magical world.

This was actually more alien than the magical world had been, despite being the “default” society, which she couldn’t count the magical one as being, since it stayed hidden.

The self-moving vehicles were the most eye-catching, and the automatic traffic wardens, but what Sunset found particularly intriguing was a stallion in a business suit walking by in a hurry, talking and listening to a plastic brick. Instant long-distance communication without magic.

This city, London, was loud, dirty, and smelled pretty bad, but it was still impressive, especially since no magic had been used in its construction.

Sunset would’ve been hard-pressed to not learn as much as possible about this world instead, and what it had to offer, if not for the fact the road to becoming an alicorn lay with magic.

She paused outside a small café, and read the menu. A coffee and a pastry, five-hundred and fifty units of money.

That could be a good introduction into learning about muggles. But where to get some money?

She leaned against another streetlamp, looking like she was lazily waiting for something, but keeping an eye on the counter inside the small establishment.

After witnessing a few transactions, Sunset nodded to herself, impressed. Both printed and minted money.

Walking in slowly expanding circles, with The Leaky Cauldron as the center, Sunset came across another interesting sight.

A small line in front of a window in the wall, surrounded by panels of stainless steel.

People would stand in line in front of the strange device, press buttons do something with plastic cards, and money would come out of a slot to the side.

Sunset once again lazily leaned against a lamp post, only getting strange looks from people who were moving on, to make sure she got the concept correctly.

Automated bank tellers. Between this, the traffic wardens, and the self-propelled carriages, muggles must free up so many hooves… hands, that their economy must be soaring.

Sunset had to shake her head and laugh to herself. That witches and wizards looked down on muggles must be ignorance, or perhaps even jealousy.

After the line had faded, Sunset glanced around the street, and approached the machine.

With a slight glow around her hands, she magically felt around inside the machine. A series of steel arrangements locked the hatch to the money, making it near impossible to rob, at least without magic.

Sunset looked around again, a little nervously, but no one was around or thought she looked out of place.

After a little while, Sunset pulled out a handful of bills. Ten units of money per note, so three hundred of those. She figured that should be enough to experiment with a café visit without getting into trouble.

Sunset walked away from the machine, looking at the money note.

“Bank of England... pounds... more old people?”

—

“‘Ello, luv,” the portly woman behind the counter greeted Sunset as she walked in. “Fancy a cup’a?”

Sunset’s minds started racing, trying to figure that one out. “Uh, yes, thank you, and ah… a blueberry muffin.”

“Roight you are, luv. Your parents about?”

“Uh, they’re… I’ll probably be done here before I need to worry about them.”

“Oh? Doing somethin’ borin’ then?”

“Uh yes, they’re… at the maritime museum,” Sunset ventured.

“Oh!” the woman winced in sympathy. “Well you just make yourself comfortable here. Did you bring homework?” She looked at Sunset’s shoulder bag.

“Uh, yes, in a sense. Oh, by the way,” Sunset said, and fished out the handful of notes.

The lady drew for breath, and quickly lowered Sunset’s hands back into the bag again. “Oh don’t you go ‘roun showing that in London, dear,” She said, and deftly fished one ten-pound note from between Sunset’s fingers.

“‘Ere you are, dearie,” she said, giving Sunset her change back. “New to the place are ya? Let me guess… California?”

Sunset reached for the first thing that came to mind. “Close enough,” she said.

“Always wanted to go. Not to Los Angeles mind, too much concrete for my loiking. I think San Francisco might be more for me. But oh well, London ‘ad to do.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not going anywhere,” Sunset improvised, while logging more terms to research.

“Roight ye are,” she said, and smiled at Sunset. “An’ ‘ere’s ye muffin.”

“I have a… strange question,” Sunset suddenly said.

“Mm?”

“If… you were a visitor from another world, and you were trying to blend in, right here and now, what would do next to learn about the world?”

The woman looked at Sunset with a confused expression for a moment, teapot still in her hand.

“Ye got me there, luv. Hmm, go ‘round the corna’, look at the used bookstore, see if they got any o’ them encyclopedia."

That did it. If even muggles like this one thought that fast, that was all the confirmation Sunset needed to decide that muggles were not to be trifled with.

—

The books came down with a heavy thud on the bed. The man at the store had stared in disbelief at Sunset swinging the bag over her shoulder. That was another strange thing she had noticed people doing.

She lay down on the bed, and spread the books out around her, taking one of those clever muggle pens with their internal ink-cartridges in her mouth, filling up a little notebook.

Looking up London and England had led to her learning about the United Kingdoms, and Europe, the countries in it, the continents, the countries in those, the geography of the world, and the humans that inhabited it.

Looking up humans had led to different languages, ethnicities, some quick history, and modern society.

She needed more research, but at least she felt she could pass as a muggleborn without trouble now. She knew about football, bobbies, what the different kinds of footwear was called, and that “apple” referred to both food and a brand of thinking-engines.

Between her books and her school supplies, her bag needed to be bigger on the inside than the outside, which was simple enough, and she decided to make it lighter as well.

Sunset took another foray into Diagon Alley to visit Gringotts, a bank run by diminutive little creatures called goblins, who looked a little like perpetually angry versions of Flitwick.

She walked up to a counter, where one sat, not looking up as she approached.

She knew this game, she played it with Cadence sometimes, so she simply waited.

After several minutes, the goblin put down the paper. “Can I help you?”

“You can if you can switch British pounds for Galleons,” she said, and put the money down on the counter.

The goblin looked at the bills, quickly counting them before looking up at Sunset again. “Do you have an account with us?”

“No.”

“Wizards and witches must be of age to open accounts with Gringotts.”

“Do I need an account to make the exchange?”

“... No.”

“Then I’ll take the money to go.”

“Gringotts will not be held responsible for money lost outside of our vaults,” the goblin said, forcefully.

“Naturally. I am ready to make the exchange.”

A pile of gold coins were deposited on the counter, a currency which Sunset had developed a bit of a reference for the value of, and Sunset had to put on her coldest straight face to put them in her bag slowly and calmly walk out of the bank.

It wasn’t until she was several buildings away from Gringotts when her eyes finally shot wide open and she leaned against a wall, taking deep breaths. In the end, all she could do was say, “... whoops.”

She had to be more careful. No one knew of it of course, unless she had underestimated the muggles as much as the witches and wizards had of course, but still, committing jail-worthy offences without knowing spoke poorly of her ability to lay low.

She took a few calming breaths, and walked in Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore.

She had noticed by now that she did catch a few looks from people, especially those close to her age, but she forced the feeling of unease down. It was just nerves.

She found the book on Hogwarts’ history, and set to reading.

Finally, what the boy had said made some sense. Ravenclaw for smart and quick thinking people, Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious, and also blood purity- big thing among them. Gryffindor was for brave people, not bad in itself but Sunset wasn’t sure why they made a house out of it, and Hufflepuff for those who work hard and value fair play, a house that people apparently looked down on, which spoke volumes.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t want to go to Hogwarts!”

Sunset looked up to see a tall woman, an old one as usual, in a green dress and… a stuffed vulture, in her hat, glaring at a boy around her own physical age, walking through the store.

“No, I do! Someone here must know.”

“What would your parents say if they knew you forgot the list of books for your first year?”

Sunset thought the odds were that they probably would have asked if they could borrow someone else’s list, as she reached into her bag without looking up from her book.

As the two walked past, she held the booklist out between her fingers over her shoulder.

“I…” the woman stopped as she noticed Sunset, holding the list. “... Thank you, my dear. Neville, what do you say?”

“Thank you,” the boy, Neville, mumbled.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Augusta Longbottom,” the woman said, holding out her hand.

Sunset closed the book, and shook the hand. “Sunset Shimmer.”

“Are you starting your first year at Hogwarts as well?” she asked.

“I am.”

“Are your parents with you, Miss Shimmer?”

No, they passed away.”

“... Ah. I apologize,” Augusta said.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Well look closely, Neville. It pays to study.”

The boy stared down on the ground, blushing. Sunset felt a vicarious sense of indignation when seeing him.

“It’s the magic that requires the most work anyway, and we’re not allowed to practice that,” she said.

“Oh, you’re allowed a little spell or two around adults,” Augusta said.

Sunset raised her eyebrows, and pulled out her wand. With a small swish, Neville’s booklist came floating out of his back pocket.

“Not quite forgotten I guess,” Sunset noted.

She was a little worried that Augusta would be indignant or angry, but both she and Neville just stared at her in silence.

“What?”

“Silent magic, and not even at Hogwarts yet,” Augusta said.

“Oh,” Sunset said, and mentally kicked herself. Of course that would draw attention to her as well. Now she’d have to learn what all the spells were called, and start saying them out loud whenever people were looking.

Augusta looked at Sunset for a moment longer, before giving the book list to Neville in a much kinder tone. “Go ask the clerk to help you with the books, Neville, there’s a good lad.”

“So, Miss Shimmer,” Augusta said, making Sunset wonder just what kind of faux pas she had committed now. Then she relaxed a little, and continued in a much more conversational tone. “Any house you favor?”

“At Hogwarts you mean? Not really.”

“Which one were your parents in? I don’t recognise your name.”

“They didn’t attend Hogwarts. I’ve moved here recently.”

“I see. Well, a marvelous place, you will have many fine memories from going there, I’m sure. However… there are unsavory aspects to the place. The children bring the bad sides and prejudices of their parents with them.”

That made perfect sense in this place, Sunset thought. There were a lot of prejudices going around, along with unchecked ambition, and a government that her admittedly limited dealings with had not been positive.

She nodded in understanding, still not sure where Augusta was going with this.

“You clearly have talent, to the point where your fellow student, including older ones, will be interested in them.”

Of course. Sunset knew about that. Celestia, early on in her education, shielded her from those elements, but only while she taught her to recognise and defend herself against them.

Augusta glanced towards Neville. “My grandson… might not have that problem.”

“He might have later,” Sunset noted, with her arms folded. “But I’m not interested in causing trouble for your grandson. I’m going to Hogwarts to learn.”

Augusta nodded. “There are those who will want to cause trouble for you then.”

“I understand,” Sunset said. She wanted to scoff at that notion, she could avoid being noticed if she wished, but then again, she had made a few minor mistakes already. It might only be a matter of time before she made a larger one. She slowly nodded, and looked up at Augusta. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Shimmer,” she said, and turned to join Neville in picking out his books.

Sunset turned to look out the window, seeing Harry Potter and Rubeus Hagrid walking past, who waved happily at her. Sunset found herself smiling for some reason, and waved back.

She thought it was strange that Augusta Longbottom had strongly indicated to someone much more magically powerful than her grandson that his talents were lacking.

It wasn’t until she had paid for her book and was halfway back at the leaky cauldron that she realized that she had probably revealed quite a lot about herself to someone clever enough, few though her words had been, and to someone old enough to perhaps be associates with the faculty at Hogwarts. It was a maybe, but it was an interesting maybe all the same.

“Hmm... not bad,” she said to herself, and kept walking.

—

The day had come to go to Hogwarts. The previous day had largely been spent by Sunset reading up on Hogwarts and the magical world, but she had also visited King’s Cross Station, and mapped out a route for her to teleport there. She didn’t quite have enough control over her magic with her hair to do it in one go, so she had found an appropriate rooftop halfway between The Leaky Cauldron and the station.

She packed her bag, double checked that she had everything, thanked Tom on the way out, and walked into an alley.

Less than three seconds later, she stepped out from another alley and walked across the street to the station.

She counted the platforms, and once she reached nine, she saw Harry Potter standing next to a stocky woman with red hair, a whole clan of redheads in fact, pushing a trolley with a very heavy-looking luggage, and a birdcage with a somewhat impatient-looking owl.

Sunset shook her head, finding it a bit irresponsible for people with magic to dangle a magical solution in front of youngsters who weren’t allowed to solve it that way. Oh well.

Harry vanished into the brick barrier that separated the tracks.

“Huh. That answers that,” Sunset said to herself, and sauntered up towards the barrier as the red haired people casually walked in through the magical entrance.

“Ma’am,” she said, nodding at the woman and her remaining child, the only girl in the group, and gestured for them to go first.

“Oh, no you go ahead, dearie,” the woman assured her.

“Thank you,” Sunset said, and stepped through the portal, finding herself just under a low-hanging cloud, created from a scarlet red locomotive to her side.

All around her were hundreds, possibly over a thousand, children of various ages, and parents seeing them off, and catching up with each other.

Cats and owls hooted, children laughed in excitement, some cried at the thought of leaving their parents for almost a year. Sunset couldn’t blame them.

“Are you alone as well then, dear?” The red-haired woman asked Sunset from her side, having come through the portal.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not the first one we’ve seen today without their parents.”

“Oh. Yes, I am,” Sunset said, and shook her head with a small smile at the expression of the woman and her child. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Now that’s impossible,” she started, before noticing one of two identical boys up to something, and stormed off towards them. “Fred, where did you get that hubcap!?”

Sunset was left with the smaller, red haired girl.

“... Hullo,” she said, nervously.

“Hello. Are you starting Hogwarts as well?”

“No… next year.”

“Hey mum, guess what?” Sunset heard one of the boys say in the distance. “That black haired boy? He’s Harry Potter!”

The girl gasped, and ran up to the identical boys to ask them more.

Sunset only found the innocent impertinence amusing. That stuff was almost refreshing after spending too much time in Canterlot Castle. Celestia herself vanished a few hours every week, sometimes more, and Sunset always strongly suspected that she was simply slumming it, tossing darts with some working class types somewhere or something.

Sunset kicked herself, wondering why she kept making herself think of Celestia again and again.

She strolled along the platform, the dim and chatter helping her take her mind off her old teacher, she noticed Augusta and Neville.

She was squeezing Neville’s shoulder comfortingly, and he answered to whatever she was saying and nodded with a slightly somber look on his face.

Then Augusta vanished with that abominable teleportation spell, making Sunset flinch.

Neville started hauling his heavy, wheeled luggage up the stairs to the train, but not making a lot of progress until Sunset walked up and lifted the bottom with one hand.

“Oh! Th-thank you, uhm… Sunset?”

“Correct. Neville, right?”

“Uhm, yes, that’s right.”

The conversation was cut off before it could even start by a brown haired girl slamming into Sunset. Or rather, running into and bouncing off of Sunset, who barely stumbled.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” she said, from the floor.

“Uuh,” Sunset said, trying to think up some witty response, before realizing she didn’t care, and simply walked off. “Whatever.”

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“I can tell,” Sunset said, not looking back.

A whistle sounded, and Sunset figured she’d might as well find a seat before she’s the last person to do so.

She opened a door to a compartment where a bunch of older girls sat, chatting animatedly, with one seat free.

“Is that seat taken?” she asked.

“Uh, yes!” one of them hissed at her, like she had just asked if the woods is the bear’s bathroom.

“How nice for you.” Sunset shrugged, and moved on.

Sunset walked up to and glanced through the window to the next compartment, where more older children were talking excitedly.

In the next, there were children closer to her age, her new age that is, but the compartment was full.

Sunset sighed in frustration, then looked out the window, making sure that they were leaving the city, then glanced around to make sure no one could see her, and teleported up onto the roof of the car.

The wind caught her hair and the sunlight caressed her cheek, and the smoke from the locomotive was far too high to bother her.

Sunset had been cooped up in her room at the inn so long, or in a tightly packed city, that she felt she was going stir crazy. She missed her tower. Her big tower that she had all to herself.

She spread her arms and danced back and forth, breathing in the fresh air, before throwing up a magical shield to stop her clothes from blowing away as she started changing into her school uniform.

She paused halfway though, and eased up on the shield, relishing in the refreshing sensation of the wind on her skin rather than just her cheek. Poor humans. Sure, they made some swanky looking clothes, as expected by people who constantly wear them, but that was the thing- they always wore them. It was comfortable in many ways, but also restrictive.

She sat down for a moment and simply enjoyed the sight of the countryside whooshing past, before slipping into her uniform. She paused at the second last piece of clothing though, her cheeks glowing red, and not from the fresh air.

Leggings.

Tight, striped cotton leggings that would be visible thanks to her skirt.

Sunset had never felt as daring in her life as when she put those on, to be worn in public, but… it was included by Madam Malkin, who had said that Sunset was leaving with a pretty uniform no matter how little it would cost. They were probably not as eye catching, or at least not in the same way, as they were in Equestria.

Sunset settled down on the roof again, closed her eyes, and concentrated some more on re-focusing her magic to flow through her hair and nails, to regain the same control she had as a horn.

She held out her hands, and created a concentration of raw magic power between them. A glowing, volatile-looking orb of energy that could reshape the world, in a limited way at least, for those that knew how to wield it.

After a long while, when the whistling of the wind and the groaning of the train engine had completely faded from Sunset’s senses, she decided it was enough, and the world gently came back as she came out of her meditation, the ball of magic fading into nothing.

She was surprised to notice the tears that had flowed down her cheek, and the slight aching in her chest, as the memories of learning these exercises, and who had taught them to her, lingered in her thoughts.

She took a deep breath, and shook it from her mind. Luckily, she had something to distract her, as she noticed when she stood up, having pinned her tail under her heel.

“Wait. Tail?”

Sunset glanced back, and noticed a red and blonde tail sticking out of her skirt.

“Ah! Wha-what?”

She quickly calmed down, and analyzed the situation. Of course, channeling magic through her body like a unicorn, rather than through her wand, made her automatically take on a more appropriate and agreeable form for it. One with more of her long hair would certainly be helpful for that.

Of course, if she could change herself, she could change herself back. A quick application of magic, and the tail vanished back into her, to her relief.

The sun had moved quite a bit across the sky, and Sunset figured it was time to head back inside. Fighting down at the thought of someone having seen her, she grabbed her bag again, took a deep breath, leaned down over the edge to look into the window so see if anyone was there.

Neville was there, with a girl walking in front of him with a determined, almost militant gait. She did a double take when she saw Sunset, then gasped and held her hands in front of her mouth with her eyes wide when she saw Sunset, backing into a wall.

“Uh oh.”

Thinking for a moment, she decided to simply tap on the glass to see if they’d help her open it. She could do it herself of course, or even just teleport down, but decided to reign in her displays of magical prowess for now.

Neville and the girl had a quick back and forth before the girl nervously reached up and opened the top window.

Sunset slipped through it, still with her bag over her shoulder, angling herself and landing on her feet.

“Thank you,” she said, briskly.

“Are you MAD!?” the girl shouted. “What were you doing up there!?”

“Changing,” Sunset simply said. “Hello, Neville.”

“Uh, h-hello.”

The subject of clothes made Sunset glance at the girl’s legs, seeing that she wore cotton tights under her own skirt. Sunset instantly felt a lot better, seeing someone else in daring clothes.

“You can’t walk around on the roof of the train!” the girl said. “Go find a seat!”

“Sure I can, and you’re not in any seat,” Sunset pointed out.

“That’s because we’re looking for Neville’s toad, Trevor.”

Sunset looked at Neville’s face, the amazed expression of seeing Sunset went back to sadness and worry.

Some emotion that Sunset didn’t care for stirred inside her.

“... Where do you usually keep him?” she asked.

“Uh, my, uh, my pocket,” Neville said, showing the side of his robe.

Sunset walked up to a startled Neville and pulled the side of his robe up to her nose, taking a few deep sniffs, before letting go of the robe and sniffing around the corridor.

“... He’s back there,” she said, pointing where they had come from.

“What are you trying to pull?” the girl said. “We’ve already looked there.”

Sunset shrugged. “I’ll go get him then.”

The girl struggled for words for a moment. "Well... we'll keep looking," she said, trying to make it sound forceful.

“You do that,” Sunset said, as the girl marched in the other direction.

“You can go with her, Neville. I’ll catch up,” Sunset said, as the boy seemed torn on who to follow.

True enough, in a luggage compartment, under a piece of a robe hanging out from a luggage, was a toad, patiently looking at the wall.

Sunset glanced around, then arcanokinetically floated the toad out of the tight space and into her hand, and marched back after Neville.

The girl from before was leaning into a compartment, having a conversation, with Neville not being seen.

“And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know,” she said, and closed the door.

“Heya, here’s Trevor. Where’s Neville?” Sunset asked.

The girl turned around and looked at the toad in Sunset’s hand. “Where did you find him?” she demanded.

“Under some robes by some luggage,” Sunset said, shrugging.

“Well, I… uhm… thanks,” the girl reluctantly said, and held out her hand. “I’m Hermione Granger.”

Sunset placed Trevor in her hand. “Sunset Shimmer.”

Hermione looked down at Trevor with a dismayed look, when a voice sounded through the train. “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

Sunset opened the door to the compartment, where Harry Potter and one of the redheads from before were changing into school uniforms, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Oi!” the redhead shouted, indignantly.

“Hello to you too,” Sunset said, and tossed her bag onto an empty seat. “Just putting this here so no one tramples it.” Then she looked at the pile of candy and empty wrappers between them. “... Want some sugar with that?” she asked, but the boys just stared at her.

She closed the door again, and walked over to one of the doors and waited, where Harry and the Redhead joined her in silence.

She wondered why they were looking so nervous, and was about to ask when the train came to a stop and the doors opened.

Hundreds of children filed out, all dressed in black school uniforms, with Rubeus Hagrid towering over everyone, calling out, “Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here! All right there, Harry?”

Hagrid kept shouting instructions for the first years to follow him, and Sunset simply calmly followed the crowd, seeing Neville overjoyed when Hermione handed him Trevor with a relieved look on her face.

They walked down a slope towards a bank with boats, and there, in the distance, was Hogwarts. Sunset had to admit it looked pretty good in the starry night, with its many windows lit up.

The boat ride, where the boats moved by themselves naturally, was uneventful, but Sunset did start to feel a little nervousness. Probably because just about everyone around her absolutely reeked of it.

They disembarked and walked up a large grass field towards the castle, up some steps to an enormous door, where Hagrid knocked three times, and the door opened to reveal Professor McGonagall, who said she’d take them from here.

Walking along the stone corridor, the other students looked around in fascination and delight. Sunset had already seen parts of the castle, but had to admit that it was impressive nonetheless.

They came to a halt in a hall that served as a hub for either going outside, to the different wings of the castle, or through a set of doors that were currently closed, but which contained the great eating hall for the entire school, judging by the hundreds of voices coming from within.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, and proceeded to tell them shortly about the houses of Hogwarts, that there were dormitories for them with common rooms, that there was a competitive system where the houses gained and lost points depending on the performance of their members, and that, and this is what caught Sunset’s interest, there was a sorting ceremony, but she failed to specify what it entailed.

Sunset felt that was a bit of a jerk thing to do, since after McGonagall left and told them to stay put, everyone around Sunset squirmed in nervousness, to the point where Sunset could smell it again.

“How exactly do they sort us into houses?” Harry asked the redhead.

“Some sort of test, I think. Fred says it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

“Maybe they’re finding out who is no good and sending them back?” Neville suggested, dismayed.

“Are there a lot of Hogwarts dropouts?” Sunset asked, giving him an even look.

“Uhm… no?”

“That should tell you enough.”

Sunset suddenly jumped at the shrill scream coming from somewhere behind them, turning around and giving them a venomous look, but all their attention was aimed at the ghosts coming through a wall.

Sunset reluctantly had to admit that she was relieved she knew about the ghosts of Hogwarts. She even recognised the current speaker.

“Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance.”

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost… I say, what are you all doing here?”

“New students! About to be sorted I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff. My old house, you know,” he said, and waved at Sunset when he recognized her.

People barely had time to register that before McGonagall had returned and sharply ordered them to follow her.

Inside the great hall, four very long tables, one for each house presumably, were laid out with plates and silverware for all the hundreds of students already sitting by them, and more for the as-of-yet unsorted first years.

Hundreds of candles floated above them, and the ceiling was transparent, or at least that’s what Sunset thought until she heard Hermione whisper about it.

Besides the four house tables were a table on the far side, where the faculty sat. Dumbledore in the middle, with an empty seat next to him, for McGonagall presumably. Sunset also recognized Flitwick and Hagrid, but there were many more that were complete strangers to her. Mostly old people, as usual.

McGonagall led them up to a stool with a very old and ragged-looking hat on it. All of the students looked at it expectantly, when it suddenly burst into song, singing from a tear over the brim.

Sunset was mildly impressed at the end. She knew all it sang about already by now, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

She didn’t care overly much about being sorted in front of everyone, but she figured at least everyone in the room had already gone through it, so it wouldn’t be a unique experience.

McGonagall started calling out their names in order of their last names, to come up and put the hat on, which shouted out the house for all to hear.

There was a pretty even distribution of students among the houses, with the different houses cheering on their new additions.

Hermione ended up in Gryffindor, and so did Neville, to Sunset’s mild surprise. Draco, the boy she had the strange conversation with at the Cauldron, if it could be called that, ended up in Slytherin very quickly, as did the girl who had bumped into her on the train.

The great hall was filled with whispers however, when it was Harry Potter’s turn, and everyone craned their neck to see.

The hat needed a moment of consideration, whereupon it shouted out Gryffindor.

After the roar of applause, and some more students, McGonagall said, “Shimmer, Sunset.”

Sunset strode up towards the stool, sat down, and had the big hat lowered over her eyes, whereupon a deep and smokey voice spoke in her head, sounding amused. “... Well well,” it said, and chuckled. “Isn’t this interesting? Let’s see here, besides being a unicorn, what are you? Clever and witty, oh yes, and brave too–”

“Am I?” Sunset mentally asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes you are and you know it. Now to just balance where you belong and what you want. Hard working like few others, very dedicated, to the point where you’re outright ambitious, and cunning besides, and I know what house that sounds like.”

“Verily,” Sunset interjected. “So… Hufflepuff, please.”

The hat was quiet for a moment, before it responded, still sounding amused. “Oh, thought you were being really clever there, weren’t you?”

“I’d say so,” Sunset calmly responded. She liked this hat. “If we get any say in this ourselves, Hufflepuff must be the house for the ambitious and cunning, and Slytherin for the dunces. I mean, what kind of cunning and ambitious person outright declares to the world that’s what they are by joining Slytherin?”

“Ah, but you forget that I have the ultimate say in this, and I balance more than you know.”

“Alright, fine, is Slytherin for me then?”

“Oh it would be, it very much would be, if I didn’t know things you didn’t. Now, allow me to savor the moment when I surprise such a clever little filly.”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

And Sunset was indeed surprised, having to shake her head when the hat was lifted from it, and went to join the gold and red adorned house that was currently applauding her- which Sunset found she didn’t mind.

Draco Malfoy sulked.

Soon after, the redhead was sorted into Gryffindor, to the extra spirited applause of his equally red-haired brothers, whom he sat down next to, and Sunset finally realized what a Weasley was. The conversation with Draco Malfoy made slightly more sense to her now.

She ended up sitting with the Weasley twins on one side, and the other girls of her year on her other.

Some other kid was sorted into Slytherin, and then Dumbledore stood up as McGonagall collected the sorting hat and stepped away.

“Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

“Aaaw, that’s cute,” Sunset said, as she joined in the applause. “He’s doing that thing where he’s pretending to be kooky in a disarming way.”

And then, suddenly, a banquet had appeared on the tables.

Sunset, along with everyone else, dug in.

In her determination to blend in as a human, she had resigned to eat meat, since it was a staple in about half of all meals in the day.

She thought she would find it outright disturbing, eating the meat of her fellow living creatures, but it wasn’t actually so bad. The interesting tastes, textures, and feeling of nourishment helped, but so did the fact that she had never heard of the animals she ate, such as beef, pork, or bacon.

A few minutes of listening in made her learn the names she hadn’t memorized yet. She didn’t strike up a conversation with anyone, nor did anyone with her, but her intense listening to her classmates while looking at her food probably made it seem like she was ravenous, which, frankly, she was.

The ghost of Sir Nicholas De Mimsy told them about the house rivalry, and how Slytherin had been winning for the past six years. It turned out that Hufflepuff had been coming in last. This intrigued Sunset, making her curious if it was because they concealed the results of their hard work from the faculty, or if they were in cahoots with them.

“Sho… hh-wh-hoo a’ uu?” one of the Weasley twins asked Sunset past a mouth full of fried potatoes.

“Sss-mm…” Sunset started, and sped up her own chewing to make place in her mouth. Human mouths couldn’t hold nearly as much as pony mouths. “Sunset Shimmer.”

The twin took his time to swallow his food before continuing. “We heard that part, but what’s your story?”

“Oh, nothing special. Moved here recently, so the whole thing with Hogwarts is a little new to me.”

“You French? You don’t sound French.”

“... Nnno?” Sunset guessed. She knew what France was, but the encyclopedia hadn’t mentioned any dialects or accents.

“Huh, well, I’m Fred Weasley, this is my brother George, and Ron, Percy,” Fred said, pointing at the collection of red haired boys, who all waved back.

“Pleased to meet you all,” Sunset said, though secretly she felt there had been far too much talking the past few days, and not enough uncovering the secret paths to unlimited power.

Oh well, at least the food was nice.

“Where were you going to get your magical education before moving here?” Percy asked.

“Oh, I would’ve learned some at home,” Sunset said, trying to sound boring.

“Oh really?” said Percy. “I can’t imagine that’s as comprehensive as having a whole faculty of experts.”

“Depends on the teacher,” Sunset said, trying not to sound too defensive, while something inside her stung.

“She can do silent magic,” Neville excitedly pointed out, drawing several looks who were then redirected at Sunset.

“Uhm… very little,” Sunset lied.

“That’s still really impressive,” Percy pointed out.

Luckily, by now it was time for dessert, which materialized in front of them all at once, matching the main course in extravagance.

The conversation quickly turned into who was familiar with the wizarding world and who wasn’t.

The Weasleys, Neville, a boy named Seamus Finnigan, and two girls named Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, were born into the wizarding world and didn’t know much about muggle society. Hermione Granger and Harry Potter had been raised by muggles, and Dean Thomas had one foot in each world.

It was assumed by the people around her that Sunset was born into the magical world as well, which Sunset could only hope wouldn’t cause trouble later.

Sunset set to inspecting the faculty while she expanded her stomach what little more it could take with chocolate ice cream. There were more teachers than she thought at first, and figured there must be more subjects later on, as there were more teachers than subjects she had bought books for.

After a while, the desserts vanished, and Dumbledore stood up to address the hall. “Ahem! Just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest on the grounds is strictly forbidden to all pupils…”

Sunset logged that as a potential place for research in peace.

“... And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.

“I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.”

Sunset’s brows creased. “But… aren't there classes pretty much all day?”

“That’s right. Technically, there is no time between classes,” George said, and put a hand on Sunset’s shoulder, leaning against his twin and sobbing happily. “They grow up so fast!”

“Alright, alright,” Sunset said, and turned her attention back to Dumbledore and what he was talking about. Quidditch and a dangerous corridor.

Quidditch? A distraction at best. Certain death somewhere on the third floor? That might warrant a quick inspection.

Then it was time for bed. Percy led them through some corridors, there was something about a mischievous ghost beneath Sunset’s notice, and they approached a painting sensitively enough named “the fat lady”, who let them into the Gryffindor dormitories if you told her a password. Sunset rolled with it.

“Ah, now this is more like it,” Sunset said, as they entered the Gryffindor common room. “Maybe that hat wasn’t wrong. A proper tower.”

Sure, she had to share it with others, but at least it was a tower.

She climbed the stairs that Percy pointed out, entered a dormitory for the first years, and spotted her bag by the foot of a four poster bed.

She quickly checked the bag to see that everything was still in there, and then simply collapsed face-down into the bed, clothes still on.

Hermione might have been in an argument with Lavender and Parvati, but Sunset couldn’t be bothered with it even if she wanted. Within seconds, she was snoring into her pillow.

Author's Notes:

I totally forgot that there's a whole month in the book that Harry spends back at Privet Drive after going to Diagon Alley. Oh well, it's changed here. Shouldn't changed much.

Back To Basics

Author's Notes:

Alright, some author's notes here. I just want to point out that I decided to try out Rowling's quasi-montage style of writing, and I'm not sure the results are stellar. I might change back to something closer to my style later. Hope you'll enjoy it regardless.

Sunset’s jerked her head up from her pillow mid-snore, as the sunlight spilled in through the room. <<Wuh? Turnips,>> she said in Equestrian, before realizing where she was and what she was.

She stumbled out of bed, with Hermione being the only other one up yet, all the other girls were still sleeping or groaning in protest at the early hour.

Sunset knew however, that morning came whether she wished it or not. She knew that because she had asked the actual mover of the sun several times to make it come up later, but to no avail. If anything she suspected that Celestia raised it sooner every time she asked.

“You’re going to get sores, sleeping in your clothes like that,” Hermione pointed out, as Sunset stumbled across the room.

She aimed one eye, shortly followed by the other, to see that Hermione seemed to be wearing some sort of special sleeping getup.

“... ‘Mmma ge’ one a’ that,” Sunset mumbled, stumbling out of the door, registering that Hermione asked what she said but forgetting the answering part.

Sunset found herself waking up more and more as she walked down the corridors to the great hall for breakfast, yawning and stretching on the way.

She sat down with a thump next to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and reached for some cereals. “Morning.”

“Morning,” they both said in response, before going back to whatever they had been talking about.

Apparently, Harry had a lot of questions about magic, which Ron answered as best as he could, which was kind of lackluster. Sunset didn’t blame him. He wasn’t educated yet, after all.

“Did you see him? The boy with black hair?” some girl asked as some people walked past.

Harry himself just stared down on his plate, taking a deep breath.

“Hey,” Sunset said to him, and held out her hand to him and Ron in greeting. “Sunset Shimmer.”

“Harry Potter.”

“Ron Weasley.”

“I saw you a few days ago in The Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley,” Sunset noted to Harry. “You were with the groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid.”

Harry stared at her for a moment, before he recognised her. “And I saw you in Flourish and Blotts. You know Hagrid then?”

“Not as such, I’ve only met him shortly. So you’ve defeated some really powerful wizards then?”

Harry scoffed, but in a nervous way. “That’s what everyone says. I don’t remember. And it was just one.”

Sunset didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed. “Oh. Well, if you figure out how you did it, please don’t try it on me.”

“I uh… I don’t think defeating powerful wizards is something any of us can do just yet,” Harry nervously offered.

“Speak for yourself. Oh well, hopefully they’ll teach us how to do it properly around here.”

“I wish I had her confidence,” Ron muttered to Harry, as Sunset emptied a pot of coffee, and set to reading her transfiguration book.

When classes rolled around, it was time for Transfiguration. Sunset’s view on McGonagall hadn’t changed, she was strict and punitive for no apparent reason, meaning it was because she enjoyed it.

All Sunset needed was to keep her head down and focus on learning, and finally she was supposed to learn wanded magic. From a teacher that is, she had already practiced some on her own.

It was to her disappointment that their first task was to transform a matchstick into a needle.

McGonagall doled out a pack of matches for each student, who set to waving their wands at it and speaking magic words.

Sunset looked around, to see that everyone was busy with their own stuff, and, just to experiment, she poked at it with her index finger, the nail of which was glowing teal.

It immediately changed shape, which no one had managed yet with their wands. Only Hermione’s were slowly changing with each more concentrated and deliberate casting.

Sunset picked up her wand. If she wanted to not draw attention to herself, she would do the motion, and speak the words.

She had to stop when she got halfway through the motion though, as she felt the magic course through her, but it wasn’t quite how she was used to it.

It took a few attempts of slower and slower casting, but Sunset felt she started to understand enough to form a preliminary hypothesis.

Wand magic didn’t use her magic, it used magic around her, plucked it from around her and gave her limited control over it through the spell.

If that was the case, wand magic could be interesting indeed. It would have severe limitations, such as needing highly specialized formulas for even minor magic spells, as well as all the variations, but it seemed to Sunset that it would function as a very efficient equalizer, enabling those with little magic, or much magic but little control over it, to use cast powerful and sophisticated spells, at the expense of difficulty to learn.

It was a preliminary hypothesis, but, intrigued, Sunset silently cast the complete version of the spell, the mechanics of which she has been studying all this time, on a matchstick, turning it into a needle.

McGonagall hovered between the students, observing and measuring with a strictly neutral face. When she reached Sunset’s place, Sunset quickly shoved the two needles under her box of matches to hide it, and pretended to struggle with no results on her next one.

McGonagall wasn't to be fooled though. She slid the box to the side, and saw the needles underneath. Sunset looked up at her with an innocent face and shrugged.

“... Five points for Gryffindor,” she said, to Sunset’s desperate negatory waving and hissing.

Some of the students looked at her, confused, but didn’t seem to have heard McGonagall’s doling out of points.

Except for Neville, who looked at her in amazement.

“How did you do that?” he asked in a quiet voice.

Sunset groaned internally. Oh well, at least Neville was already aware that she could cast spells silently.

“Ehm…magic?”

Neville started paying close attention to Sunset, to try and notice her secret. It proved a bit of a problem for Sunset, who tried wandering the castle, getting a feel for activity and hiding places as she looked for good teleportation-spots.

And at lunch came one of the great challenges for Sunset. This time, she was sitting in the great hall, when students from all years started pouring into the great hall at irregular intervals, and Sunset saw what so many of the girls were wearing.

Leggings, and thigh high socks, everywhere.

She stared down at her warm porridge, wishing it was ice cold.

Charms were similarly tricky to Transfiguration. Sunset made the mistake of thinking about the levitation charm they were learning while her wand was lying next to her on the table, sending a whole sack of feathers that Flitwick had brought into the air as she cussed under her breath.

None of the other students could figure out what happened, but Flitwick glanced at Sunset with amused suspicion.

Luckily, Defence Against the Dark Arts was, as of yet, strictly theoretical, although it also meant it was utterly boring, just like Magical History, and neither raw magical power, nor skill at spell-slinging, helped when it came to Herbology.

Then came Potions.

Sunset had been annoyed at Professor Quirrell, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, for being a poor teacher, wasting her time. That paled in comparison to Snape, the Potions teacher, who was outright hostile to Sunset’s academic pursuits, as well as anyone else’s.

At first, Sunset had been glad that Harry Potter was so famous and drawing the teachers’ attention, but she made an exception for Snape, who raised her hackles so much she had bring up her potions books and focus on reading it to keep herself from walking up to Snape and flatten his nose across his face.

Which she strongly suspected she’d be able to. Sunset had noticed that her general pony magic, as distinct from her unicorn magic specifically, was something she had kept as a human. She hadn’t managed to get a precise comparison yet, but it was clear that other humans would not have been able to pick up two other humans at the same time and swing them by their legs and throw them across the great hall, and that they would likely not be able to shrug off the experience very easily.

Regardless, Snape did let up on his oh so drawn out mockery of Harry and they could get to working on some potions, finally.

Sunset had been looking forward to this, as potion making wasn’t something she had studied very closely at Canterlot, but Snape made it very hard to concentrate. She figured she’d have to practice on her own in her spare time.

“Shimmer!” Snape barked. “You will pay attention to me when I speak!”

Sunset stopped focusing on her potion- something Snape had been very adamant about how you shouldn’t do, especially since she had been the odd one out and wasn’t paired up with anyone- to compliment Draco Malfoy’s slug in front of the entire class.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Sunset’s potion survived the lapse of focus. She would have liked a reason for Snape to criticize her for something he had ordered her to. That would be an interesting letter to send to the school board.

Neville and Seamus weren’t so lucky though. Their cauldron melted, and sent a corrosive liquid all over the floor, burning people’s shoes.

Sunset simply lifted her feet and continued working.

Snape redirected the blame onto Harry though, which was both unbelievable and expected at the same time, and Sunset hadn’t even been in the same room as Snape for an hour.

She could have said loudly that it was not only poor behavior from a teacher, or any professional, or any adult really, but that this was grounds for an evaluation by an education inspector… but she didn’t.

<<Lay low. Don’t draw any attention to yourself,>> she mumbled.

In the end, Sunset’s potion was adequate. Not quite as good as Hermione’s, but close enough. At least to herself, she ignored Snape and didn’t register what he said about it.

Sunset planned on going up to the owlery and send a request to Madam Malkins, asking for a catalogue to order some sleepwear through, but put that off for later and went back to the Gryffindor dormitories, climbing the stairs, and collapsing on the bed.

All the other girls were out at the moment, so Sunset was left alone with her thoughts.

The verdict was in: McGonagall was competent and knowledgeable, while Flitwick and Pomona Sprout were kind, helpful, and knowledgeable. Quirrell was a useless lump, Binns was a waste of time, and Snape was a… Sunset didn’t even know the words.

It was so much better In Canterlot. At least it used to be, before Cadence came along and demanded all of Celestia’s attention.

Celestia knew everything, and she was kind, and funny, and helpful, and encouraging, and on some evenings, she and Sunset would curl up under a blanket in front of the fireplace with a big chocolate cake and… and…

The tears were flowing freely down Sunset’s face.

What was she doing here? Why did she ever leave? Her tower, her library, the beautiful sights of Canterlot spread out before her, and the castle gardens, and the kitchen, and the royal guards who spoiled her and…

… She had been happy before she saw that mirror, but what she saw in there could not be unseen.

Would she leave all over again if she was back in Canterlot?

Yes. The call of ascension was not something Sunset could ignore. She wouldn’t be herself if she did.

But she still missed Canterlot.

She rose up and walked over to a window, looked down at the edge of the forest, and saw that no one else was within sight.

With a small flash, she teleported down behind a tree, and stepped out to walk along the edge of the forest, lost in somber thoughts.

“Shimmer?” a gruff voice said.

Sunset turned and saw the giant shape of the groundskeeper, holding a giant axe, and realized she had wandered all the way to his house. “Oh. Hello, Mister Hagrid.”

“Somethin’ the matter?” he asked, with a worried look on his face, and Sunset realized he could probably tell she had been crying. “Homesick?”

In a sense, that was exactly it. An eleven year old child, or older child for that matter would say no and mean yes, not wanting to appear weak or immature. Sunset found that she didn’t care, and sighed. “Yes.”

“Well, need some firewood, and then I’ll put the kettle on. Yer classmate, Harry, is comin’ over fer some tea. Perhaps you’d like some too?”

Their presences would pale to Celestia’s but…

Sunset growled at herself, and sighed, before looking up at Hagrid.

“... Sure. Thank you, Mister Hagrid.”

“Oh, just Hagrid will do. Now just gimme a minute, I’ll be done right quick,” he said, and lifted up an entire trunk and placed on a wide stump.

He didn’t get the chance to use it though, as Sunset stepped up and gently pulled the axe away from him, and he stepped back with an amused expression, and then further back when Sunset started swinging.

<<Stupid, stupid, STUPID!>> she roared at herself, as she hacked the trunk into smaller and smaller pieces. <<Why- did- you- leave, you- dumb- goat!?>>

After the trunk was in pieces slightly too small for proper firewood, Sunset stopped, and stood there, panting, until she felt a giant hand on her shoulder.

“All better?”

She nodded, and took a few calming breaths.

“Got quite an arm on ye there,” Hagrid said, looking at the destruction around him, and bending down to pick up the pieces.

“Well… yeah. Whatever,” Sunset said, then shrugged, and helped him collect the firewood before he invited her into his house.

Hagrid’s house was more like a giant hut, with one big room in it, drying meat hanging from the ceiling, big and sturdy furniture, and a boarhound who obviously thought Sunset’s face was delicious.

“No, Fang!” Hagrid said, as he tossed some of the firewood Sunset had just chopped onto the embers in the fireplace and then hung the kettle over it. “You tell me if he’s botherin’ ya, ye hear?”

“It’s okay,” Sunset said, and pulled Fang up onto the couch and held him. She’d magic the slobber away later.

“So what’s botherin’ ya?” Hagrid asked.

Sunset sat in silence for a moment, with Fang becoming a little uneasy at being held like he was, which was all part of Sunset’s nefarious scheme of revenge.

“... I don’t know,” Sunset said, staring into the fire.

“Well somethin’s botherin’ ya.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t ‘ave t’ tell me, but it don’t do no good just dwellin’ on it.”

“Mmm.”

“Also, Fang’s gettin’ a little worried there.”

“Mmm. He shouldn’t have licked my face then,” Sunset said, making Hagrid chuckle.

There was a knock on the door, making Fang break free as new targets became available. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

They settled down and talked about their first week there, and the rest of the staff.

Apparently no one there liked Mrs Norris, the cat of Filch the caretaker, who had indeed stalked Sunset as she walked around and looked for good teleportation spots, out of sight of the paintings and hopefully the ghosts too, since the native kind of teleportation didn’t work in Hogwarts.

Filch had indeed thrown Sunset some pretty suspicious glares when Sunset had shaken Mrs Norris by teleporting a few floors away.

Hagrid didn’t act convinced that Snape hated Harry though, but Sunset strongly suspected that it was because while he was fine with agreeing that Filch was just a pain in the flank, extending that to a teacher was a little too inappropriate.

Sunset knew that sitting here greatly increased the risks of developing… camaraderie, even friendship, but… she supposed it had to happen eventually. At least this way she was ready for it.

“Hey, sorry for ignoring Snape when he harasses you,” Sunset said to Harry, on their way back up to the castle.

“Don’t worry about it, no one else is doing anything. No one can do anything.”

<<... If you only knew,>> Sunset muttered to herself.

—

Sunset had already decided that Quidditch was not for her long before she even got to Hogwarts.

If she wasn't any good at it, it would be a waste of time pursuing it. If she was good at it, it could draw attention to her, and in either case it would be a distraction.

Still, flying broomsticks was on the curriculum, she might as well learn that.

In the morning, the usual swarm of owls came down to land on the breakfast table, which Sunset questioned the cleanliness of, but most of them were well-mannered.

She paid her owl the postage for getting a catalogue sent to her, and Neville got a glass sphere with a white smoke in it from Augusta.

“It’s a remembrall!” he said, and explained that the smoke in it turned red when you’ve forgotten something, which it did halfway through the explanation.

Sunset rolled her eyes. Not at Neville, but at the concept. Everything in this world had to be magical, even things that were more easily solved by a notebook and a pencil.

“How pedantic is that thing?” she asked. “Does it stay red until further notice? Like, if you forget something unimportant that you never take care of, does it turn useless?”

That was when Draco Malfoy walked by and snatched it up, looking really pleased with himself.

Ron and Harry jumped up, and Sunset was almost disappointed that McGonagall was there immediately to prevent anything from happening, because Sunset suspected that since they didn’t know any real magic yet, it might mostly look like a pair of sea lions puffing their chests out and blaring at each other.

In the afternoon, Sunset stood with the rest of Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s first-years stood outside the castle, with brooms neatly laid out on the ground for all of them.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Madam Hooch, who looked like an old gryphon, said. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, Hurry up.”

Sunset was skeptical. She was all about flying, she had sworn to herself that she would fly, but not like this.

“Stick out your right hand over your brom, and say, ‘UP!’”

“UP!”

Harry’s shot right up into his hand, but few others managed it. Ron and Malfoy were slightly behind, while Sunset’s waited for a moment before it reluctantly floated into her hand.

When everyone had their brooms in hand, and Madam Hooch had instructed on how to hold it, and corrected Malfoy, she told everyone to kick off, fly a few feet and then come back down again.

Sunset wondered how much magical control and power had to do with it, because Neville clearly wasn’t in control of his broom.

Before anyone else had kicked off, he started floating up into the air, swaying back and forth, higher and higher.

“Come back, boy!” Madam Hooch shouted, sternly.

Very reluctantly, Sunset prepared herself to cushion his fall magically, but she didn’t get the chance to. As predicted, Neville slid off, and fell towards the ground.

The thing was that between Neville and the ground stood Sunset.

<<Oh, manure.>>

She held out her arms to try and catch him, but was off by just a few inches, and ended up with him right on top of her, his wrist striking her head and producing a worrying ‘crack’, and hammering them both to the ground.

“Come on, move over. That’s it,” Sunset heard Madam Hooch said, as a pained-sounding Neville was pulled off from, and she sat up, and looked over to Neville with a worried face.

She didn’t get much of a chance though, as Madam Hooch grabbed her by her cheeks to hold her still as she looked into her eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, urgently.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she assured her. “I think Neville is worse off.”

Madam Hooch took another moment to make sure Sunset didn’t suddenly have a seizure, or something, then turned her attention to Neville.

“Broken wrist. Come on, boy, it’s all right, up you get. You too, Miss Shimmer.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re going to the hospital wing. As for the rest of you, leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch’. Come on, dear.”

Sunset didn’t really care for the idea of broomstick flying anyway, so it was all the same for her.

“Sorry, Neville,” she said, a little weakly, but he just whimpered in response.

When they got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey marched out of her office.

“What seems to be the problem?” she asked loudly as she approached.

“Mister Longbottom fell off his broom and landed on Miss Shimmer here,” Madam Hooch said, and gently led Neville over to a cot that Madam Pomfrey indicated.

“Lie down here, good lad. Miss Shimmer, how do you feel?”

“Fine, really,” Sunset said.

“Well, sit down anyway. How far up was he when he fell?”

“Twenty feet,” Madam Hooch said.

“I see.” Madam Pomfrey pulled out her wand and aimed it at Neville’s arm. After a few seconds, he stopped crying, looking at his wrist in astonishment, and flexing the fingers, before Madam Pomfrey stopped him.

“Now you just lie down there and rest, you hear? And don’t exert yourself while I’ll check on Miss Shimmer.”

She walked up to Sunset and aimed her wand at her eyes, shining a bright light at her.

“I didn’t tell you to stay out of trouble when you left last time, Miss Shimmer, but I feel it was strongly implied.”

“It couldn’t be helped.”

“I’m sure. Well, either you’re lucky, or you’re made of pretty sturdy stuff. Still, I’d like you to stay here for a few hours.” Pomfrey turned to Madam Hooch. “Thank you, Rolanda. I’ll take it from here.”

Madam Hooch nodded, and briskly walked out.

A further quick inspection of them both, and Pomfrey was satisfied they wouldn’t spontaneously pass away on the spot.

“Wish I had a book so I could study a little. I don’t suppose you could lend me one of your medical books?” Sunset asked Pomfrey.

“No, and there will be no wand waving in the hospital wing,” she said, sternly. “Now rest.”

“Oh well,” Sunset said, as Pomfrey walked back into her office.

“... Hey, sorry for landing on your head.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. Sorry for putting the strongest part of my skeleton against your wrist.”

“Uhm… that’s okay.

“Wait… you’ve never been to the hospital wing before,” Neville eventually pointed out, but Sunset just had to smile apologetically at him, before settling in with her hands behind her neck to wait.

—

It wasn’t until the sun was starting to set that Madam Pomfrey let them go, saying they’d have time to get back to their common room in time for curfew.

That didn’t matter, because the fat lady had quit early that day it seemed.

“Great,” Sunset muttered at the painting of an empty sitting room.

“What do we do now?” Neville asked, scared, looking around in the darkness, as the sun had set during their trek from the hospital wing.

“I’dunno,” Sunset said, shrugging. “Break in? Climb a window? Ask a teacher?”

“We can’t break in! And we can’t be seen by a teacher, we’re out past curfew! We’ll be expelled!”

“If they want to punish us for their own faulty arrangement, I want them to find us,” Sunset said, who had been spoiling for a fight, even a verbal one, since Snape first opened his mouth.

“Hmm. Alright, I’m going up to the owlery, and send one of the owls over to someone in there to get them to open up for us.”

Neville’s eyes lit up. “That's a great idea!”

“Alright, you stay here, and then let me in when I come back.”

Neville’s smile melted away.

“Don’t leave me here!”

“Then come with me.”

“B… but what if… Professor Snape…”

Sunset looked around, and shrugged in frustration. Even in the dark of night, this place wasn’t the least bit scary. Even the undead weren’t dangerous around here.

But Neville’s scared face, and more tellingly, his scared scent, softened Sunset.

“... Alright, fine,” she said, and sat down, leaning against the wall. “We’ll wait here. Who knows, maybe we’re not the only Gryffindor rule breakers tonight?”

A grateful Neville sat down next to Sunset, giving off a nervous scent.

“... Show me your wand form,” Sunset said.

“W- what?”

“Your wand, take it out and show me a spell. Show me lumos.”

“B- but I don’t know that one.”

“This is what we call practice, Neville. Now go on.”

Neville pulled out his wand, a bit reluctantly, and held it out in front of him.

“It’s a lighting spell, Neville. Come on, ‘lumos’.”

“Lumos.”

Nothing happened.

“Go on, again, and focus.”

“Lumos.”

Nothing.

“Are you sure it’s the right one?”

Sunset pulled out her own wand, and said, “lumos,” lighting up the entire hallway as though with an arena light.

“Wow,” Neville said, before Sunset dismissed it with the opposite, ‘nox’.

“How do you and Hermione know so much magic?”

“I can only speak for myself, but I’ve practiced, and I’m guessing she has too.”

“How much?” Neville asked, almost despairingly.

This wasn’t going where Sunset wanted it to. “As much as I can, but don’t worry about that. Go on, again, ‘lumos’.”

“Lumos.”

Still nothing.

Neville let his wand hand fall to his side. “It’s no use. I’ll never be as good as you with magic.”

“Who cares?” Sunset said, making Neville look up at her, confused.

“Look, nevermind what I’m doing, focus on what you’re doing. Do it again.”

Neville tried again, but with no result.

“Good,” Sunset said.

Neville glanced at her, confused. “What do you mean, ‘good’? Nothing happened.”

“You practiced. That’s good.”

Neville sighed, and put his wand away. “It doesn’t feel good.”

“It will when you get results,” Sunset assured him.

“But it takes forever,” Neville complained.

“Well, what else are you going to do for seven years?” Sunset said. “Besides, you have more than seven years. People don’t stop practising when they leave school.”

Neville gave a non-commital grunt. “But you’re much more talented than I am.”

Sunset sighed. <<Probably…>> “Maybe at some things, but you’re the best at herbology.”

“What is that? You talk in another language sometimes.”

Sunset shrugged. “Sorry, that’s enough about me for now. I’m gonna get some shuteye.”

“... Alright.”

Neville sat there in the darkness for a moment, before glancing sideways at Sunset.

To his amazement, she had already fallen asleep, resting her forehead on her knees.

—

Sunset woke up to an argument in the night, and nudged Neville awake.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione, all dressed in pyjamas and dressing gowns, were standing in the dark, and having a hissed argument about something.

“Wha- what’s going...ooo- on?” Sunset asked, yawning, and stood up.

“Wha- what are you two doing here?” Hermione asked. “Weren’t you in the hospital wing?”

“Oh yeah, how are you?” Harry asked.

“Fine. Madam Pomfrey fixed up my arm right away,” Neville said.

“And you?” Hermione asked Sunset, who just shrugged.

“I didn’t need to be there, I was just dragged there, and then the fat lady was gone by the time we got back here.”

“Well she’s still missing,” Hermione said, staring angrily at the painting.

“Alright, look, we’ve got somewhere we need to be. We’ll see you later,” Harry said.

“Don’t leave us!” Neville said, and turned to Sunset. “Sunset! Don’t let them go!”

“Well, alright,” she said, and started following them, with Neville nervously following behind. She most of all wanted to go to bed but with the choice between uncomfortable and bored, and uncomfortable and seeing what the hay these clowns were up to, she’d pick the latter.

“If any of you get us caught, I’ll never rest until I’ve learnt that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and used it on you.”

Harry cut Hermione off from her instructions on how to use that, and gestured for them to follow.

By now, the moon had come out, and was casting interesting shadows through the high windows onto the suits of armor and paintings with sleeping painting-people in them.

Harry and Ron were at the front, and Neville and Hermione were in the middle, all hunched over as they silently crept along, with Sunset bringing up the rear, strolling along normally. She wasn’t very worried, as she couldn’t hear or smell anything other than her classmates ahead of her.

They went up a staircase to the third floor, and snuck into the trophy room, which Sunset knew as a poor teleportation spot.

“What are you even doing?” she asked Ron, who hushed angrily at her.

“We’re going to fight Draco Malfoy,” he whispered. “He’s challenged Harry to a duel.”

“The weird rich kid in Slytherin? What for?” Sunset said, humoring him by whispering too.

“Because he’s a git!”

“So why here, and in the middle of the night? Why not just blast him out on the grounds if he’s up for it?”

“I can’t believe it!” Hermione angrily hissed. “Is everyone in our entire house set on breaking the rules, or is it just our year?”

“He’s the one who picked the time and place,” Harry protested.

“That’s not an excuse!”

“Just so you know, there’s a smelly old man out in the corridor,” Sunset noted, nodding at the door on the far side of the room.

They all looked at Sunset as if she had declared the sun to be purple, before they heard a voice. It was Mister Filch and Mrs Norris.

“Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.”

Their eyes shot up, and Harry waved at them to get out of there. They all crept as quickly as possible out the nearest exit, into a corridor with suits of armor lining the halls.

“This way,” Harry mouthed, and they crept along the corridor.

Neville couldn’t take the pressure though. He yelped in terror at the sound of Filch coming nearer, and broke into a run, which lasted about one second before he slammed into Ron, sending them both flying into a suit of armor.

Sunset had to squint as the deafening sound of a collapsing set of armor echoed through the whole castle, and possibly to the nearby village.

“Run!” Harry yelled, and Sunset had to grab Neville and Ron by their collars and drag them until they got their bearings enough to run on their own.

As they ripped through a tapestry, Sunset had to admit that this was rather fun, and with very little risk. If push came to shove, she could just vanish on the spot to just about anywhere else in the castle, most appropriately the Gryffindor common room, and go straight to bed.

Of course, she might feel bad about leaving her classmates there, so the question became whether she should bring them along or not.

After running through enough corridors and hidden passages, they found themselves outside the charms corridor.

“I think we’ve lost him,” Harry gasped, leaning against a wall at a T-intersection.

“I… told… you,” Hermione gasped, clutching her side and wheezing. “Malfoy tricked you, you realize that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you. Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.”

“We’ve got to get back to Gryffindor Tower, quickly as possible,” Ron said.

“If Malfoy told Filch who was going to be in the trophy room, Filch knows we’re going to Gryffindor Tower and he'll be waiting for us somewhere, so slowly and carefully might be better than as quickly as possible,” Sunset noted.

“Alright, fine, good plan,” Ron admitted. “Let’s go.”

They were just about to, when a nearby door handle rattled, and Peeved started floating through the door.

Sunset grabbed the others, and threw herself down the intersection, out of view of Peeves, making them yelp in alarm.

“Oh? Who’s the-ere?” Peeves sing-songed.

“Go,” she whispered at them, and lifted them up again, running down the hallway.

“Students out of bed? Naughty naughty…” they heard Peeves continue behind them as they raced around another corner.

“This way!” Harry hissed, and they raced down the corridors in an attempt to lose Peeves.

Suddenly, they came to a halt in front of a pair of glowing eyes at another T-intersection. Mrs. Norris was looking straight at them, before turning around and running to the right.

“She’s gonna get Filch,” Neville groaned.

“Back! Back!” Harry hissed.

“No,” Sunset said, a delighted look on her face from the excitement. “He’s not here yet. Let her run away, and we’ll go to the left.”

“How do you know he’s not here?” Ron demanded.

“Because his smell is always at least two hallways ahead of him? Seriously, can’t you tell?”

“No? I mean, I know he smells bad, but…”

“Whatever, let’s go.”

They darted down the opposite way that Mrs. Norris had gone, before coming to a halt, Harry and Ron letting out the same expletive as they saw Peeves in the distance, and threw themselves down a side passage, Ron’s robe catching on a gauntlet of a suit of armor, and pulled at it as he ran.

The suit momentarily lost the grip of his halberd, and loudly clinked the suit next to it with it, making the second armor turn his helmet to the first one with a metallic groan, looking affronted.

“Oooooh!” they heard Peeves say, delighted, down the corridor, and they ran to the end of the passage, into a locked door, smelling of wet dog.

Ron’s face was an illustration of despair. “This is it! We’re done for! This is the end.”

“Oh, move over,” Hermione grunted in frustration, grabbed Harry’s wand, and whispered, “Alohomora!”

It was just in time, as they piled through the door as it opened and shut it.

“Just stay quiet,” whispered Harry, as they pressed their ears towards the door and concentrated.

“Oh where are you, little students?” They heard Peeves call mockingly out in the corridor. “You, did you see any ickie students here?”

They heard more groans of suits of armor either nodding, or shaking their heads.

“Well, where?”

More metallic sounds, before Peeves grunted in frustration, presumably at some very unhelpful instructions.

“Fine! I’ll remember this!” he shouted, floating away.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione let out a collective sigh of relief.

“I think we’ll be okay. Get off, Neville! What!?”

Neville pointed at something behind them, and Sunset realized that they were in the third floor corridor, and why it smelled of wet canine.

And inside that corridor was a giant, three-headed, gargantuan dog, all the heads of which were sniffing and looking at them.

<<Cerberus?>> Sunset asked, astonished.

This wasn’t good, although it didn’t change her plans much. They would flee on foot, or Sunset would grab them and teleport out of there, dealing with the fallout of that at another time, because Cerberus was not to be meddled with.

Sunset would probably be able to take on the guardian of Tartarus if fully prepared and there wasn’t a risk of collateral damage, but it would have been a proper battle, which she didn’t feel like at the moment.

Harry fumbled at the doorknob, and pulled them all backward, falling out into the corridor, and Harry quickly stood up and slammed the door shut, before the rest stumbled to their feet, and raced down the corridor.

“What was that!?” Ron said loudly, before Harry and Hermione shushed him up.

“And we still need to get back,” Hermione said, her heart beating loudly.

Sunset looked around, and through a window, on the other side of the courtyard, she saw an orange light making its way down another corridor. Filch, with a lantern.

“There.” She pointed at the light. “If we hurry, we can beat him to the stairs to the entrance hall, and get to Gryffindor tower before he notices anything.”

Even the still stunned-looking Neville nodded, and they set off at top speed across the castle.

“Where on earth have you all been?” the Fat Lady asked, as they reached the end of the corridor on the seventh floor.

“Never mind that! Pig snout, pig snout!” Harry panted, and the portrait swung forward.

They stumbled into the common room, panting and wheezing. Even Sunset was a little out of breath.

“What do they think they’re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up on a school?” Ron finally said, outraged. “If any dog needs exercise, that one does.”

Hermione glared at him. “You don’t use your eyes, any of you, do you?” she said. “Didn’t you see what it was standing on?”

“The floor?” was Harry’s suggestions. “I wasn’t looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads.”

“No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It’s obviously guarding something.”

Sunset was impressed. She hadn’t been thinking of looking at the floor either.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could have been killed, or worse, expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going off to bed.”

“No we don’t mind,” Ron muttered after her. “You’d think we dragged her along, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, that was fun,” Sunset said, and yawned. “But I think I’m going to turn in for the night too.”

“Yeah, g’night,” Harry said, as Sunset climbed the stairs to the girls’ dormitories.

“Honestly, those two,” Hermione whispered, as Sunset entered the dorms. “It’s like they don’t even realize they were almost caught.”

“Not your problem though, right?” Sunset noted.

“But imagine how many points we’d lose if Filch found us!”

“What? Points? Oh right, those. Whatever, who cares?”

“I care!” Hermione said, indignantly. “Everyone cares!”

“Really? Huh. Goodnight.”

“... Goodnight.”

Mare In The Mirror

“Now, can anyone tell me what requires less magic but more control,” McGonagall said in one class. “Transforming wood into cast iron or into pure iron?”

Even Hermione’s hand stayed down.

“Miss Shimmer?”

“Pass,” Sunset said, leaning back in her seat.

“Anyone else?”

Sunset leaned over and whispered, “cast iron,” into Neville’s ear, and then started raising his arm up for him enough that he nervously raised it himself the rest of the way.

“Mister Longbottom?”

“Uhm, c… cast iron?”

“Very good,” McGonagall said. “Can anyone say why?”

Sunset pretended to adjust in her seat to whisper some more.

“The, uhm, c-carbon in the wood is e-easy to t-transform into the carbon in the… cast iron?”

McGonagall looked suspiciously at Neville and Sunset, before nodding concedingly. “Very good. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

The rest of the class was spent transforming more small wood articles into metal. Those who wanted could instead try their wands at the somewhat trickier paper to metal, but only Hermione and Sunset were on that level.

Sunset kept her work secret though, keeping her book propped up on the table, blocking the view of the other students, and pretending to be reading from it whenever McGonagall glanced over her shoulder.

She had put in some serious concentration to not conflate the two types of magic, her witch’s magic and her unicorn magic, and let her supreme grandmaster arcanist-level unicorn magic do all the work. It meant that she sometimes had to practice to get the spells right, sometimes up to three times!

Class ended, and everyone started packing up and heading down to lunch.

“That was very kind of you, Miss Shimmer,” McGonagall noted, sitting behind her desk and going through some notes.

Sunset stopped packing, as the rest of the class filed out. “Excuse me?”

“Helping Mister Longbottom like that. The house competition can be a stressful factor for many students. It can be very good for one’s confidence to contribute.”

“Oh. I guess. How do people even keep track of them?”

McGonagall looked up over her paper. “The large hourglasses outside the great hall, Miss Shimmer.”

“Oh is that what they are? I wondered why everyone kept staring at them all the time.”

McGonagall looked at Sunset for a moment, before she sighed and shook her head. “Run along now, Miss Shimmer.”

“Professor.”

—

“... Hellooo? Sunset?” Lavender Brown asked during lunch, with her and Parvati Patil looking eagerly at Sunset.

“Huh? What?”

“I said, what happened last Thursday?” Parvati asked

“Uuh, flying lesson?” Sunset asked, puzzled

“No, after that. What were you and Hermione doing out past midnight?”

“Oh, that. It was just this thing about meeting Draco Malfoy.”

“Hermione is seeing Draco Malfoy?” Lavender immediately asked, with almost predatory excitement.

“No no, it was Harry.”

Lavender and Parvati’s eyes lit up. “She’s seeing Harry?”

“No? At least I don’t think so,” Sunset admitted.

Their eyes lit up more than Sunset thought possible. “Harry is seeing Malfoy?”

“He was gonna, in the trophy room.”

They leaned in closer, and Sunset felt like she was staring at hungry hyenas. “So what were you and Hermione doing?”

“I was just getting back from the hospital wing. Hermione was gonna stop Harry from the thing with Malfoy. Something about a duel.”

“Hermione was going to duel Harry for seeing Malfoy?”

“Ugh, no!”

“She was gonna duel Malfoy for seeing Harry?”

“No, Harry and Ron were going to duel Malfoy, and Hermione was going to stop them,” Sunset said.

You could see the gears turning inside Parvati and Lavender’s heads as they mentally analyzed this information in detail, comparing it to the images in their heads.

They obviously found reality wanting, and went back to whatever they had talked about before bringing Sunset into the discussion.

Sunset shook her head, and went back to her sandwich, at least until a package slammed down in front of Harry a little further along the table.

“Oooh! What’s that?” Parvati asked. “Harry grew up with muggles, so they wouldn’t send owl posts.”

That reminded Sunset that she needed to place some orders of her own. Not only some new clothes, but extra potion supplies to practice with on her own, as well as a lot of books, as she was halfway finished with most of the ones from her current year, and wanted alternate books, especially when it came to potions, to cross-reference with for the best results.

She quickly pressed the rest of her sandwich into her mouth, and walked out towards the owlery, chewing all the while.

Hogwarts castle was a strange mix of the comfortable and luxurious, and the drab and even sometimes decaying, but the afternoon sun did a good job of putting some life and light into everything as Sunset moved through the halls.

On the way, she saw Draco Malfoy walking with his two friends, Grab and Coil or something, looking grouchy.

“I’m going to tell father about this! If Potter can play seeker then…” Draco went quiet when he saw Sunset, then turned and hissed to his friends. “Go back to the common room or something. Go on!”

Sunset nodded absentmindedly at the trio as they split up, and it took a few moments before she realized that Draco was starting to walk alongside her.

“Oh. Hey,” she said.

“Hello. So, you ended up in Gryffindor?” he said, in a light conversational tone. Or perhaps a forced conversational tone, it was hard to tell.

“Yep, and you ended up in Slytherin,” Sunset said, as she kept walking, being fairly certain of the colors by now. “You said you wanted that back in The Leaky Cauldron, right? Congratulations.”

“But, you know, you would’ve fit in Slytherin too,” Draco pointed out.

“So the hat told me.”

“... Do you think students are allowed to change houses… if they fit in more than one?”

“I don’t know actually,” Sunset said, mildly curious about that as well. “Don’t see why not.”

“Where are you going?”

“The owlery. I just need to send some letters. How about you?”

“I, uh, need to send some letters as well.”

“Oh.”

Sunset glanced at the boy next to her, weighing whether she should turn around with an excuse about how she had forgotten her letter.

“Who are you sending letters to?” Draco asked.

“Madam Malkin,” Sunset said, happy to listen to anything other than uncomfortable silence. “I don’t have a nightgown, so I have to order one.”

“Oh,” Draco said, turning pink after a moment. “Well, I’m sending a letter to my father, to ask him for a broomstick.”

Sunset glanced sideways at Draco, as she ascended a flight of stairs. “A broomstick? Oh, right, a broomstick. Cool.”

“Yeah, it is. My father has a lot of pull, you know? Could probably get me on the quidditch team.”

“I’m… sure you’ll do great.”

“Yeah, I will. I’m really good at flying, you know? Oh, wait, you haven’t seen. Yeah, that clumsy Longbottom saw to that,” Draco spat.

“Yeah, I guess he did,” Sunset said, and opened the door to the Owlery, a dimly lit room, with high ceilings, always opened windows, and dozens of owls ready to take one’s mail to wherever. Like in Equestria, mail here was carried by wings, but you couldn’t have a conversation with the mailmare here.

Sunset still wasn’t all that used to owl mail, but the horned owl patiently held out a leg and waited for Sunset to finish tying a package to it, filled with a letter specifying order and sizes, a return address, and payment.

Meanwhile, Draco kept talking about his family, and quidditch.

“We live in a manor, see, so I have a lot of space to practice flying. I’ve actually flown around muggles before. Never been caught though.”

“Uhuh. Madam Malkin, and Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley, okay?” Sunset asked the owl, who hooted in response, and flew out the window.

“I guess you gotta cheer for Gryffindor, but maybe you wanna see the matches from the Slytherin stands?”

“Uhuh, I, uhm, wait…” Sunset said, some part deep inside her jumping up and down, yelling and waving its arms to stop her from talking more before she agrees to anything she’ll regret. “... Oh! Uh, yeah if I see you… sure. I’ll uh… just leave you to send your letter in peace.”

“Okay,” Draco said, smiling absentmindedly, reaching inside his robe for a letter he had forgotten didn’t exist, as Sunset closed the door.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and with a small flash, she teleported away to behind the juniper bushes behind greenhouse four, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

—

Charms and Transfiguration lessons were actually becoming more interesting as they left the introductory parts, and started actually doing some more magic.

Sunset had to rein herself in pretty seriously though, as it became clear that everyone but Hermione didn’t need three attempts before mastering each spell, but three lessons on average.

During transfiguration, Sunset could prop up her book and keep others from seeing how she was mastering switching places of objects, vanishing spells, and some conjuration, and all the while, McGonagall’s attention and praise were aimed at Hermione. She had tried coaxing some more esoteric magical knowledge out of Sunset, but Sunset didn’t want to play.

What was more frustrating was Charms lessons. A few transfiguration effects were clearly flashy and drew attention, such as conjuring fire, but they were in the minority unless you performed feats on greater objects. The majority of charms however, were bright and colorful, or had lasting effects.

Sunset resigned herself to mostly reading while pretending to struggle with the lessons, hiding other books that she had received from Diagon Alley.

Potions, too, were something she was practicing more in her spare time, although there were difficulties when it came to that as well. Turns out that there were many restrictions on where and when potions could be brewed, including the Gryffindor common room, which especially frustrated Sunset as it seemed the rules were meant to force people to brew potions in Snape’s presence.

Sunset had set up her potion kit on a low table with a long couch beside it, drawing some looks from some of the others in the common room, notably Lavender and Parvati.

“What are you doing?” Parvati asked, looking up from their Astronomy homework, as Sunset picked up her five potion books, and flipped them all up to cover the same potion.

“Practicing,” Sunset said, and shrugged.

“Don’t let Hermione see all of those,” Lavender noted. “She’ll eat herself to death.”

Despite herself, Sunset couldn’t help but snigger a little.

Unfortunately, Sunset didn’t have time to get more than halfway through the relatively simple potion before Percy came down from the boys’ dorm.

“You can’t brew potions in the common room, Sunset,” he said, making Lavender and Parvati look up from their end of the couch. “You can only brew potions in the dungeon.”

“Says who?” she asked.

“Says the rules.”

Sunset looked over at the board with the rules posted on it. There was nothing there about not being allowed to brew potions.

“Which one?”

Percy puffed himself up, and went over to fetch the list of rules.

“Here,” he said, pointing at it. “Students are not allowed to practice magic that is disturbing or distracting to their fellow students.”

“Too fuzzy,” Sunset said, and focused on the potion again. “Besides, I need time to practice away from Professor Snake.”

“Professor Snape,” Percy insisted.

“Whatever.”

“Oh give it a rest, Perce,” Fred said, as the twins came up and leaned over the couch’s backrest. “What are you brewing anyway?”

“Paste of skin mending,” Sunset said.

“What’s with all the books?” George asked.

“I’m reading up all the variations for how it’s made to get a feel for the best results.”

George gave a low whistle at the five different tomes laying spread out across the table and couch.

“What do you need skincare for anyway?” Parvati asked, with a hint of accusation in her voice.

“That’s a good question,” Fred noted, and slowly poked Sunset in the cheek. “Doll face.”

“I don’t. I’m just choosing one that’s safe to get wrong,” Sunset said, ignoring the prodding.

Percy cleared his throat. “Regardless, you have to stop.”

“You know, Perce, you might have better luck if you try asking politely,” George noted.

“Yeah. Oh, what a nightmare, us having to teach you manners,” Fred said, grinning. "What's the world coming to?"

Percy gave the twins a venomous look, before taking a deep breath.

“Sunset, could you please not brew potions in the common room?”

“I’ll stop after this one. How about that?”

Percy, obviously taking victories where he could get them around the twins, nodded reluctantly. “Thank you,” he said, and walked away.

“Thanks,” Sunset said to the twins, when Percy was out of earshot.

“No problem,” they said, and jumped over the backrest to sit at either side of her.

“What happens if I add this?” Fred said, and reached for some nettles.

Sunset sighed, but noticed that a part of her didn’t mind all that much.

—

Sunset continued exploring the castle, now during lunch while many were busy eating, trying to get a feeling for who patrolled where and which floors were most empty at which times during the week.

“What are you doing here!?” roared an angry voice behind Sunset.

Sunset wasn’t surprised, as Filch’s scent announced his approach from a great distance, and lingered for many minutes after he was gone.

“Looking around,” Sunset calmly said.

“Oh yes? What for?” Filch said, leaning in and boring his nasty little eyes into Sunset, or did his best in any case.

“I want to know the layout of the castle.”

“Oh yeah!? Thought you’d sneak into the forbidden parts of the castle, didn’t you?” Filch growled, making another valiant attempt at intimidating the young girl in front of him.

“No I’m planning on staying far away from your quarters, thank you,” Sunset said, raising one eyebrow at Filch,

Filch hesitated, his gleefully malevolent sneer had changed to simply malevolent. Clearly, young students not being afraid of him was not according to script.

“You just get back to your common room, and if I ever see you here again…”

Sunset bobbed her head back and forth, as if she was weighing his words. “If you insist, but first we should go see Professor Sprout and tell her that you’re overriding her job as an educator, and then I shall have a written document, signed by you, where you explain your motivation to keep me from my education.”

Filch looked like he was going to crack his remaining teeth, when a cheerful voice called out from behind them.

“Oh, hello there, Argus, and Miss Shimmer,” said Professor Flitwick, as he walked down the corridor.

“Hello, professor,” Sunset said, cheerfully.

“What are you talking about if I may ask?”

“This ‘ere first year was snoopin’ around,” Filch said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards Sunset.

“True, but that’s an unflattering way to describe it,” Sunset noted. “And the old man here was assaulting me with his breath.”

Filch’s face twisted even further as his sneer intensified. “You better shut yer mouth or I’ll lock you in the dungeons and throw away the key.”

“A wasted gesture,” Sunset noted, before Flitwick jumped in.

“Now now, Argus, we’re all friends here. Now, Miss Shimmer, you need to get to class soon, correct?”

“I have a few minutes, but yes, herbology.”

“I’m headed outdoors myself. Perhaps you’d like to keep me company?”

“Since you so kindly offer,” Sunset said, and the two of them left Filch glaring at their necks.

“You shouldn’t antagonize Mister Filch,” Flitwick noted, but without any real accusation in his voice.

“Indeed, and I haven’t,” Sunset pointed out, walking slowly enough so that Flitwick didn’t have to jog to keep up. “He was the one doing the antagonizing, I was nothing but respectful.”

Flitwick sighed. “Yes, he was, wasn’t he? I could argue that you were handing him rope to hoist himself with, but that still doesn’t take blame away from him. Frankly, you are a clever young girl, Sunset, so let us skip the semantic exchange and the details of who did and should be blamed for what, and say that I would appreciate it if you held yourself to a higher standard than Mister Filch holds himself to.”

Sunset looked at Flitwick, surprised by the straightforwardness of his request. In a sense it was not a reasonable request, but it was phrased very politely.

“That might be difficult, but if I avoid him, that problem will be bypassed.”

Flitwick chuckled, as they moved outside with a trickle of students who were also moving towards the greenhouses. “That will be keeping with a school tradition of sorts. Very well. Run along now, Miss Shimmer.”

“Professor,” Sunset said, and walked towards class.

—

Herbology went as usual- Ron Weasley was an oaf, Harry Potter only slightly better, Hermione Granger was flustered that book reading only helped so much, the other girls screeched and squirmed every time something interesting happened, and Neville Longbottom was without a question the best in class.

The flesh-eating plants they were handling were very young, and very few of them could bite through their protective gloves. In fact, they looked pretty harmless, cooing and looking happy when petted right, but Ron still managed to get one stuck to his thumb.

Professor Sprout gave Neville five points to Gryffindor for removing the plant from Ron without damaging it as she bandaged Ron’s thumb.

As Sunset looked at the scene unfurling, one of them chomped down on the side of her wrist, but she managed to keep from yelping in surprise.

Later, during lunch, Sunset was dabbing the small wound with a napkin, curious and a little disturbed about the sight.

Not that a tiny wound like that worried her, but it didn’t look like she was used to.

The little plant had drawn blood.

It was red.

She dabbed her finger against the wound, and tasted it. It didn’t taste different than she expected.

“Sunset? Are you okay?” Harry asked. Her behavior obviously seemed weird to them.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. I’m fine,” Sunset said, and finished her toast.

“Well we’d better get going,” Ron said. “Don’t want to be late for history of magic.”

“Actually, I kinda do,” Harry noted

“Yeah I guess so. Doubt Binns would even notice,” Ron scoffed.

Ronald had a point. As Sunset walked down the hallways towards Professor Binns’ classroom, she improved a little spell to create an invisible shield which muffled the sounds coming from one general direction.

It did wonders to keep her from having to listen to the ghost’s droning voice. Unfortunately, the subject was still extraordinarily boring.

Actually, that wasn’t true. History could be very interesting, it’s just that her textbook was an incredibly boring one.

It certainly didn’t measure up to having one of the central figures behind so much history close to hoof, willing to answer questions.

What was going through the mind of the highest political figure in the land as they signed important, long-lasting treaties? Well, for Sunset, Celestia had always been there, ready to answer, often with a playful little wink.

—

Decades of being a teacher had honed Minerva McGonagall’s senses to spot things amiss to a razor sharpness. As she walked down the great hall, on her way to teach the third years, she turned her head to look at the vacant seats of her house’s table, and spotted a discarded napkin. She had very nearly missed it.

She picked it up and inspected it, and a shiver ran down her spine. Her gaze swept across the great hall, a quarter filled with casually chatting students, eating, some of them studying. Everything looked normal.

Minerva McGonagall hoped that her magical knowledge had failed her. That she had misjudged what she saw. She hoped what was on the napkin was fake, or a prank, though it would have been in supremely poor taste.

The napkin was stained with a silver substance.

Unicorn blood.

—

“Today, you will be brewing the paste of skin mending,” Snape said, bored, as the chalks, by themselves, listed up the reagents and some insipidly short instructions in a minutely small and very sloppy font on the blackboard in the distance. “If done correctly it will turn into a weakly green foam which will float up to the surface of the liquid in your cauldron, where it can be collected and pressed into a paste.

“It is a simple potion, and one quick to make so I shall assume that even the simplest of you will be able to succeed.”

“This also means that you will work by yourselves,” he said, smirking at Parvati and Lavender who had started shuffling towards Sunset, knowing that she had already perfected it. “Begin.”

Sunset shrugged, and read through the instructions again, when inspiration struck her.

She arranged the reagents carefully, the nettles, the salt, and ground up leeches, but she changed one small detail.

Instead of using a silver knife to shave flakes of beeswax with, she used a copper knife.

She kept everything else the same, and paid extra close attention to how it differed from how it had turned out when practicing on her own.

As she stirred, she looked around to see how others were faring. Only Neville seemed to lack confidence in his potion, while Hermione’s was already shaping up to perfectly fit the description in the book.

Sunset’s own turned out to look weak, with only small amounts floating to the top, like most others in the class, with Snape floating among the students and berating them.

Sunset studied her potion closely in fascination, brought up her notebook, and started meticulously logging the results. She didn’t know exactly what to make of it, but it was an interesting result nonetheless, which she felt would deepen her understanding of potion-making in the end.

“Miss Shimmer, you used a copper knife to shave the beeswax, didn’t you?”

“Uhuh,” she said, only paying the most bare of attention to Snape, as she looked at foam that struggled to stay afloat, fascinated.

“Shimmer, I will have your attention!” Snape barked.

“Mmmm… uh, yeah, sure, you got it.”

Snape glared at Sunset for a moment longer, before he drew his wand, and Sunset brought up an invisible shield around herself, still focusing on her potion. If he threw the first punch, he’d be in for a surprise.

“Then the results will be less voluminous and of reduced effect, and you have failed,” Snape said, and waved his wand.

Very unceremoniously, the concoction vanished, leaving Sunset with an empty cauldron.

She looked up at Snape, radiating disapproval at his colossal stupidity.

“I. Was. Studying. That.”

“The potion failed, Miss Shimmer, and I removed it, you will have to start over.”

Sunset had had enough. She had shown Snape far more respect than she should have, but this was too much.

She could contain her disdain for Snape in that his physical form would leave the classroom in one piece, but his ego should be… no, needed to be destroyed.

“Wow, yeah, start over. That’s so smart. You’re really earning your salary, professor. Can I leave early today? I need to go up to talk to the headmaster and recommend he gives you a raise.”

To Sunset’s immense satisfaction, Snape’s smirk vanished, and he leaned down towards Sunset’s face, but retreated again when Sunset did the same.

His expression instead became sickly sweet.

“Detention, Shimmer, you will be in this classroom Tuesday evening at eight.”

Sunset simply shook her head at the thought that he could force her to do anything, and went back to studying potions.

She felt the gazes of her classmates, and looked up to see them staring at her with wide eyes and shocked smiles.

All the boys except Neville quietly mouthed the word, “brilliant,” along with some expletives mixed in.

A surprised Sunset couldn’t help but scoff in amusement.

—

Sunset walked behind Filch, as he stalked through the corridors.

A trio of second year Ravenclaw girls looking through a magazine were some of the victims of his foul mood, as he yelled at them for loitering.

Sunset raised her arms and yawned loudly. Neither Filch, nor the other girls, had seen her.

To wizards, illusion magics were a subset of charms, rather than a discipline of itself. It had the same advantages and disadvantages that all wand magic had, with the further setback of being… not quite underdeveloped, but close to it, in Sunset’s mind.

Satisfied that her spells that made people ignore her were just as effective here as back home, Sunset set to wandering the castle some more, looking for a really good spot for practicing some more flashy magic.

It was either that or try and teleport far away to some lonely mountain top or something, as she had scanned through her intermediately advanced spellbooks for some fire magic. Can’t be a proper wizard, or witch, as this world called her, without knowing how to shoot fireballs.

The castle had so many rooms, and it was strange how many of them were actually in use, which is why it was a doubly good thing that her illusion magics were fully functional. Some were used in classes of course, but some were meeting-rooms for the ghosts, some were storage for dark creatures that Quirrell hadn’t deigned to show them, one was not a classroom, but the office of some teacher Sunset hadn’t met yet.

In one, however, there were tables and chairs stacked on top of each other in the corner, and a large mirror, its surface surrounded by ornate silver, in a corner.

It was old and weathered, but with some proper care and polish it looked as if it could be restored to pristine condition.

What was really intriguing about it for Sunset though, was that it was magic. Very magic.

Sunset slowly approached it, reading the inscription above the glass.

‘Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi’

The strange phrase gave Sunset pause for a few moments, before she figured out the puzzle.

“Heh… my heart’s desire, eh?” she said, and looked into the mirror.

Her mirror image stood in front of her, a small, confident smirk on her face.

Sunset looked on in fascination as fiery red and yellow wings sprouted from her back, and spread wide, her smile widening and her eyes becoming hungry for more.

A radiant light surrounded her, and Sunset knew that the power was coursing through her mirror image, absolute tempests of magic, oceans of power, and control to match.

Then her smile fell away, as a tall, and stunningly beautiful woman stood behind her.

She was dressed in a white silk toga, with a golden tiara, and a lustrous, radiant and rainbow-colored mane of hair, reaching down to her knees.

Through the mirror, she locked eyes with the real Sunset, and gave a proud smile, completely unabashed by the tears gathering in her eyes.

Sunset tried glowering at her mentor through the image, but couldn’t manage anything other than a wounded frown.

“You don’t care,” she said, in a low voice.

Celestia put a hand on Sunset’s shoulder, gently shook her head, and while the mirror image couldn’t make a sound, it was still clear what it wanted to say.

‘Always.’

“... No,” Sunset insisted. “You tried to keep me from it!”

But Celestia’s smile only grew more serene, as she slowly shook her head and leaned forward with a gently insistent look.

‘Always.’

Sunset stood there for another moment. She tried focusing on the wings, and the power, but Celestia’s serene, comforting… infuriating presence soured it all.

Her breathing grew more and more shallow, as her eyes blurred with tears, and she tore her gaze away and stormed towards the door.

She stopped just before walking out, her heart beating in her chest, and threw one more wounded look at the mirror.

“You said you’d teach me everything!” she accused the mirror image of Celestia.

But Celestia just stood there, as calm as before, still smiling encouragingly.

‘... Always.’

Tears flowing freely down her face, Sunset stormed out of the room, a deep ache in her chest.

A Little Bit Of Adventure

The Defence Against the Dark Arts class was particularly odd for Sunset the next Monday.

Quirrell stood in front of the class, pointing at an image of a very ugly horse-like creature hanging from the wall.

“The M-M-Mare, or M-Mara, often th-ttthhhought to be a c-c-c-ousin to the th-thestral, i-is a wwwwicked creature that ssssneaks up on p-p-people while they sleep and ssssit o… on them. They are r… rare in these p-p-p-parts, and so their motivations are nnnnnot entirely understood. S-s-s-some say that they g… gain something from this, w… while others say th-that they are simply doing it f-f-for p-pleasure.

“It isssss said however, that the mare has ssssserious c… c-c-compulsive t-tendencies and her th… thought pattern is v… very easily dist...distracted, and one n… need o… only toss a ha… h-h-handful of f-flax seed onto the f-f-floor to distract her through an entire n-n-night, as she c-c-c-counts them´. His-historically however, r… religious people, preferred to sh… shear the tail of a c-c-c-cow, and put the ha-hairs so that they st-st-st-stuck out of a psalm book, and p-p-p-place it on the w-windowsill of the b-b-b-bedroom.”

Luckily, at that point, Professor McGonagall chose to knock on the door, distracting Sunset from the bizarre tales.

“Y-yes, M-M-Minerva?” Quirrell asked.

“I would like a quick word, Quirrell,” she said.

“But of c-c-c-course,” he said, as he walked out towards the hallway, to have a whispered conversation.

Sunset shook her head, doubly wishing she could’ve sat this lecture out. She wasn’t sure if she ought to be offended on behalf of thestrals, or if the lecture was too absurd.

The rest of the class was taking a mental breather, as while no one wanted to say it, and it wasn’t like he could help it, listening to Professor Quirrell could be pretty exhausting.

“Y-you d-don’t say?” Sunset heard Quirrell say from out in the hallway.

“I do, and the headmaster agrees to keep this quiet.”

McGonagall’s voice was cut off by Parvati and Lavender gossipping, and Sunset had to discreetly lean her chair closer to the door.

“I ssssee. Hmm, g-good plan.”

“Yes, so please keep your eyes open.”

“Of c-course. Thank you for t-t-telling me.”

Sunset let her chair come back into a normal position. Maybe it was just the boredom of listening to lectures about entry-level magic, or maybe the other girls and their thirst for gossip was a bad influence on her, but Sunset regretted not casting some spells to let her listen in on the whole conversation.

—

Later in the day, Sunset placed her piece of cardboard against the wall outside of the potions classroom, and walked in without knocking.

Snape looked up, annoyed at what he no doubt considered insolent manners.

“... Sit down,” he said.

Sunset shrugged, and did so.

Snape got up and put down a small, empty bowl in front of Sunset, followed by a large bowl of something black and hairy. A bowl full of dead spiders.

“You are to collect the eyes, and place them in the empty bowl.”

“Got it,” Sunset said, in an easy manner.

Snape looked at Sunset suspiciously, but she just looked back in a slightly amused manner, as if asking if he was going to be looking at her all day. It was important not to say that out loud though, at this time.

Snape turned around and walked back to his desk, and as he did, Sunset’s hair and nails momentarily lit up, as she unleashed several prepared illusions on the spot where she sat.

Snape didn’t react though, even as Sunset magically floated in a large sheet of cardboard, and went to work on illustrating it.

When she was done, she calmly walked out the door to the corridor. Snape’s brows creased ever so slightly, but he didn’t look up. To him, there was an annoying student sitting quietly and suffering in front of him. Everything was as it should be.

Sunset walked down the corridors, leaving the classroom behind, and shaking her head. “... Idiot.”

By now, Sunset was more than halfway through the second year’s spells. She had no problem with charms and transfiguration, but potions did take longer to practice of course, so she was only a few months ahead on that, and wouldn’t say no to more repetition, to make sure it stuck properly in her head. Similarly, Sunset only felt so confident about her skills when reading about herbology, and preferred to learn practically as well.

The big gaps in her learning were the so-called defences against the dark arts. It was a strange subject, and a bit unfocused. The first year’s book had been dull, to say the least. It mostly covered the philosophy about what is and is not considered dark magics, the proper forms and justifications of defense, and then a little bit of practical knowledge about aggressive creatures and a few weak shield spells.

Sunset made a note to ask Fred and George to take a look at their book, and see if things got better.

The dark magics themselves, as the first year’s book to defend against it described them, seemed to be mostly charms with grim and morbid flavors. Sunset presumed that perhaps they’d earn their reputation when they became a little more advanced than what her fragile, eleven year old sensibilities were judged to be capable of handling.

While Sunset did enjoy all kinds of learning, magical lores especially, there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she should be looking into anything that has to do with ascension into alicorns.

The path to becoming one would of course be highly esoteric, and so it might prove useful to study all fields of magic, as the key might be hidden in obscure, arcane lore that only makes sense if you combine them all.

Maybe.

It seemed like a logical conclusion at least.

Sunset knew that Celestia hadn’t been born an alicorn. She had managed to ascend somehow, and she was a master of every kind of magic Sunset could think of. The most logical thing would be to follow in her hoofsteps.

Even so, it might do to research this world’s menagerie of magical creatures. Sunset had gathered from Ollivander that unicorns in this world, and presumably pegasi and earth ponies as well, were very reclusive, and Sunset felt that in a society this focused on remaining unnoticed by their non-magical counterparts, there would be a greater presence of her kind. If these people knew more of unicorns, and pegasi, and earth ponies, they would be talking about them much, much more.

Sunset felt a bit of vicarious pride for her counterparts in this world. Clearly, they were even greater at keeping their societies hidden than even witches and wizards.

One more thing Sunset felt might be worth investigating would be if there were any alicorns in this world. It was no guarantee however. Alicorns were rare- Celestia and Cadence being the only known ones, with only a small number of others appearing in legends. It was possible, likely even, that there simply were no alicorns here.

And if there were, Sunset would keep her observations secret. Revealing her intentions only once had been bad enough.

So the library was the next step.

Sunset hadn’t been in there much yet, but she was familiar with Madam Pince, the librarian, by reputation. She glared at Sunset suspiciously, but like with Filch, Sunset not being intimidated by angry old people probably just made her angrier.

There were only a few students left, as most were trickling back to their dorms for the day, but a quick perception filtering charm meant Sunset would remain undisturbed, as she started looking through the shelves containing books on magical creatures.

Of course, her plan was cut short by Madam Pince putting out the lights and closing up the library, so Sunset grabbed a book on transformations, quickly dispelled the charm that would trigger an alarm if it was taken out of the library, and left for the Gryffindor common room.

The fat lady’s portrait swung open, and Sunset plopped down on a couch next to the rest of the first years.

Around her, people were studying, laughing, playing games, eating snacks, and socializing in various ways. The fifth and seventh years were frantically studying for their major exams, the ones that determined the grades that any employers would look at, while lower years were acting more casually.

Sunset had to admit that the constant low-key chaos of the common room, and the open fireplaces and fuzzy carpeting which so far succeeded to chase away the increasing chill outside the windows, provided a cozy blanket to study under.

“Weren’t you supposed to be in detention?” Hermione asked, looking up over a long astronomy essay, and sounding a little accusatory.

“Yep. I left,” Sunset said.

“What did Professor Snape say?”

“Nothing.”

—

Professor Snape, meanwhile, was sitting in the dungeon, correcting tests of his sixth year students, struggling not to smile as one of the Gryffindor students’ answers could be interpreted as incorrect, which, when Snape was the teacher, resulted in a failed test.

He glanced up to see the insufferable brat dutifully bent over her tasks, and sneered in frustration.

—

The book Sunset had borrowed was not overly helpful for Sunset’s ultimate goal, as it said nothing about ascending closer to a godlike status. The agelessness of “vampires” did enable them to greatly hone their powers, though many kinds of magics were unavailable to them for some reason.

Animagi were an interesting little note, and the concept of werewolves seemed kind of disturbing, but there was nothing about alicorns, or anything that resembled alicorns.

Sunset slowly closed the book, her mind feeling numb, but still disappointed and frustrated, as one gets from pursuing the truly mysterious. Aimless pursuits of magic and power was easier than this, just learning in itself was progress.

Sunset needed a break if she wanted to stay in control of her emotions. She slowly rose up, and walked up to the dorms, and went to bed, idly wondering if anyone had tried getting her attention during the time she had sat in the common room.

—

Snape had grown bored with tormenting Sunset, and although he would never admit it to anyone, including himself, it was because she refused to display any signs of anguish at her grueling task.

He rose up from behind his desk, and strode down towards Sunset, his robes billowing exactly right, thanks to many years of practice.

Sunset didn’t look up, and Snape wordlessly reached for the bowl of insect eyes to inspect Sunset’s work.

Not that there was much to inspect, as the bowl turned out to be a cardboard standee that fell over once his hand came near it.

Snape’s expression was absolutely stone-like, as he slowly turned to face Sunset, who kept looking down at the table.

“I assume you think this is highly amusing,” Snape said, slowly and deliberately, with a slight hiss to his voice. “I assure, I will cure you of that notion.”

What Sunset’s reaction to that might have been, Snape didn’t find out, as the figure in front of him turned out to be a cardboard standee that fell over once Snape’s breath came near it.

—

The next morning, Sunset stumbled into the great hall, trying to get her eyelids to move in synch, collapsed into a chair by the Gryffindor table, and started shoving sandwiches and coffee down her stomach, when she slowly noticed the flying pumpkins with candles in them, and the generally black and orange decorations everywhere.

<<... Nightmare Night?>> she said, confused.

“What?” asked Dean Thomas, two seats away from her.

<<What?>>

“What?”

Sunset shook her head, and switched over to English, as it was called here. “I mean, what?”

“... What, to what?” Dean asked.

He and Sunset stared at each other for one very confused moment.

“Uh… I don’t know,” Sunset eventually offered.

“... Me neither.”

“Sunset Shimmer,” Sunset heard McGonagall say, and looked up to see her head of house approaching.

McGonagall was a very strict individual even in casual situations, so the fact that she clearly had to put some effort into it now told Sunset that she was unhappy.

“Yes, Professor McGonagall?”

“I’ve just had a word with Professor Snape,” she said, coming to a halt and staring down at Sunset, which Sunset suspected would have worked better to keep other students mild and meek. “He said your behavior during detention was most unbecoming.”

“He would,” Sunset noted, dismissively, and shoved half a sandwich into her mouth.

McGonagall stiffened, and took a deep breath. “Miss Shimmer, you are to show your teachers the proper respect, or you will have to face detention with me as well. Tomorrow, after class, you will report to Professor Snape’s office for another detention.”

Sunset struggled with the food in her mouth as she considered her options.

“Hmm, ‘ow ‘m I f’po’f ‘t ge’ ou’ ‘f f’i one?”

“Miss Shimmer, table manners,” McGonagall implored, in a pained voice. “Swallow, and then stop eating until our conversation is complete.”

Despite herself, Sunset found this to be reasonable.

“Mmmng… I was just thinking to myself, and I said, how am I supposed to get out of this one?”

“You are not supposed to get out of detention!” McGonagall said, a pained look on her face.

“Oh, right, but the thing is that the detention was undeserved.”

“I’m afraid that’s not for students to decide,” Mcgonagall noted, in a terse voice.

“Why not? I’m smarter than Professor Snake, and I have a superior sense of both justice and morality.”

Sunset was certain that McGonagall would take a dim view of this jab, but she felt like she couldn’t help herself. Straight and forthcomingness ought to be a virtue worthy of an alicorn. Or something like that.

To her surprise, McGonagall hesitated, before she put on a completely neutral face, and simply said, “Miss Shimmer, you are to report to Professor Snape’s office tomorrow evening after classes,” before walking away.

Sunset shrugged, and tried refocusing on her breakfast, when she noticed Dean Thomas staring at her.

“What? Oh yeah, also, what’s with all the decorations?”

—

The day of “Hallowe’en” was apparently some sort of day associated with the dead. From what Sunset could gather, it had something to do with communicating with loved ones who had left the world for the next one, which Sunset thought sounded nice, but it was also oriented around horror, dread, and frights, from evil spirits and other dark creatures.

It didn’t perfectly mesh in Sunset’s mind.

“Miss Shimmer? How are you today?” Flitwick asked.

Sunset looked up from her charms textbook, in which she was scribbling notes in the margins, in Equestrian, just in case anyone else got a hold of it. Everyone else was practising the current charm.

“What?” she asked. “Uh, yes I’m fine, thank you for asking. How are you?”

Flitwick chuckled at the response, but nodded his head towards Sunset’s book. “I am as well, it’s just that you’re not practicing, and we’ve started with the exciting parts. There is no problem, is there?”

The “exciting” parts were levitation, which when used as a charm, was more efficient than a unicorn’s inherent arcanokinesis in terms of energy spent, but still very limited. Sunset, as well as virtually every other unicorn, had levitated things before her earliest memories.

“Uh, no, I’m just… making sure I got the theory right.”

Meaning she was jotting down some of what she remembered from magical theories back from Equestria, in case this world’s wand magic could be combined with it for amplified results. It would probably be a long way off if it was possible, but that just meant it was best to start early with it.

“May I see your wand form?” Flitwick asked, politely.

“In… in a minute,” Sunset nodded, hoping to seem placating.

“Very well,” Flitwick said, seeming a little disappointed, when he noticed that Hermione Granger had managed to cast a well-executed spell on her feather, raising it into the air, and clapped. “Oh well done! Everyone see here, Miss Granger’s done it!”

“Thank you, Hermione,” Sunset said under her breath, grateful that she stole Flitwick’s attention.

There was a feast that evening. It wasn’t very out of the ordinary for Sunset, since she was still getting used to human food in general. It was still decent though, and Sunset was grateful that these people always served either bread, or potatoes, in some form, at every meal.

Sunset was slowly chewing her food while looking up at the cloud of bats zooming back and forth across the great hall. Sunset liked bats. They were silent, and ate much more distracting little buzzing creatures. They ate a lot of them.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had their heads together, gossipping. Since Sunset had never seen them apart except when, thankfully, they finally fell asleep during the night and quieted down, she had to assume that from the start of the semester until now it has been one continuous conversation, and judging from their expressions, gasping, and giggling, it had to be a riveting one.

Dean Thomas was trying to describe a non-magical sport to Seamus Finnigan, whose puzzled look was the stuff of legend.

Percy was distracted by a conversation, and Fred and George were putting fingernail clippings into the sauce on his plate, Harry and Ron were talking about… something.

Still, something was missing.

“... Hey, where’s Hermione?” Sunset asked the table in general.

“Oh, she’s been crying in the bathroom,” Parvati said. “Ever since Ron pointed out she doesn’t have any… you know.”

Sunset oh’d and nodded in fake understanding, then settled down for some quality time with her fried potatoes.

Sunset did in fact not know, and she hadn’t heard Ron say anything. What didn’t Hermione have? Brains? Talent? Drive? She had the second most of that in school.

And what about that made her so upset now, of all times? She clearly wasn’t a comfort eater, because the butter had fried the surface of the tubers in front of Sunset absolutely expertely.

Sunset looked around some more, and nodded in epiphany. It was a day of remembering the dead. Crying on a day like this meant that Hermione probably didn’t have a family, and that she might be a pretty spiritual person.

In the orchestra of a thousand forks and knives against plates, and countless conversations, Sunset was looking up at the enchanted roof as she chewed, wondering if she should be feeling anything about her own biological family.

She had never known them, but there were aspects of magic that incorporated familial bonds, like tales of curses and blessings that could travel down the generations, and divinations that could trace people through their family members.

This was one of the few times Sunset thought about what she might be missing out on, not having a biological family.

Cadence had said that biology doesn’t make families though, and that only love was required. Sunset didn’t really want to admit it, but she did appreciate Cadence’s attitude when it came to that, and grudgingly, had to admit that in this particular instance, Cadence might know more than Sunset.

Sunset figured that if she ever got the chance, perhaps she’d arrange it so that Cadence and Hermione met, just in case they were good for each other.

That’s when Professor Quirrell came running in through the doors, panting, straight up to Dumbledore’s seat, almost crashed into the table, and gasped, “Troll, in the dungeons… thought you ought to know,” before collapsing.

A collective, panicked roar went out through the great hall, before Dumbledore let out a short string of explosions from his wand, and silenced everyone.

“Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!”

Percy shot up as if he just realized he was sitting on a thumb tack.

“Follow me! Stick together, first-years!” he shouted, and things to the effect of him protecting people if need be and following his lead.

It felt a little rich to Sunset that Percy considered her a first year, but she couldn’t really blame him. She quickly shuffled her mouth full of potato, and joined the torrent of students quickly and orderly moving out of the great hall and towards the Gryffindor tower.

“Sunset?” Neville asked. “What do we do if the troll comes?”

Sunset looked at Neville, confused, and swallowed her mouth full of food. “It’s already here, supposedly. Oh, you mean if we run into it on the way. I guess Percy will handle it.”

“Do you think he could?” Parvati asked, nervously.

“Nope,” Sunset said, simply.

Not that she knew much about trolls, but if the entire staff was spread out to chase it off, she doubted a not-yet fully educated teenager could take it on.

They got to the portrait of the fat lady, and started climbing in, which took some time since the whole Gryffindor house was climbing in there.

A group of third years came jogging up behind them.

“Ah,” Fred said, pleased. “At least the troll won’t be able to fit through here.”

“Glad you could join us,” Percy said, tersely. “Alright, everyone straight to bed! No lollygagging!”

The door to the girls’ first year dorm room closed, and Parvati and Lavender immediately started babbling to each other, probably about trolls and what was happening. As they talked, Lavender looked out the window towards the dark grounds, only vaguely realizing that that wouldn’t tell her anything, and turning back to Parvati.

Sunset was disappointed. She still had the taste of the dinner in her mouth. All this because some stupid troll. No one was even in danger.

Sunset cocked her head. Something about that notion wasn’t quite right. Something was missing.

“... Oh.”

Hermione.

Sunset opened the door again, and saw that the stairs were abandoned.

“Where are you going?” Lavender asked her.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sunset said, closed the door behind her, and vanished with a flash.

It was a bit of a risk, teleporting like that, and an even greater risk teleporting around to the various girls’ toilets all willy-nilly, but Sunset figured, that despite herself, she would probably feel pretty bad if Hermione got crushed by some monster when she could’ve done something.

Sunset appeared in a booth of the third set of restrooms she teleported to, and jumped out of it, fingernails glowing.

“Hermione!?”

Nothing. Sunset teleported to the next restroom…

… And immediately regretted doing so.

Sunset felt as if she had been punched in the face, hard, from the stench alone, and stumbled out of the booth, both hands over her face and her eyes screwed up, barely able to see anything, only barely noticing that Ron, Harry, and Hermoine was standing in the room as well.

<<Ough, Tartarus!>> Sunset whimpered, and looked up through tear-filled eyes at the absolutely foul creature in front of her.

Twelve feet tall, with a thick, leathery hide, a both monstrous and dumb-looking face, a great tree trunk as a club in it’s great hands, and an unbelievable stench shooting out from it.

<<... You are one ugly rudderbucker.>>

It raised its club and roared. Sunset was going to conjure up a shield, but the troll’s breath hit her like a train, quickly followed by the club.

The tree trunk sent Sunset flying into the door leading out into the hallway, knocking it off its hinges, and she collapsed on the floor, on a bedding of splintered door.

Honestly, it was kind of a relief to get away from the source of the smell. That she couldn’t tell if it was worth it was a little worrying.

Sunset tried sitting up, but her head swam as if she had just tried drinking a club full of minotaurs under the table, and she collapsed again as her arms gave out.

There was some screaming, and roaring, a loud thud, and the sound of half a dozen feet approaching.

A hand gently touched Sunset’s face. From the scent, though the troll’s smell was still almost overwhelming, Sunset could tell that McGonagall, Snape, and most prominently, Quirrell and his garlic, were there.

“Miss Shimmer,” McGonagall said. “I need to know how you feel.”

Sunset blinked her eyes a few times, trying, and mostly failing, to focus on Minerva McGonagall’s face.

“... Like a hundred knuts,” she said.

Sunset felt herself being magically lifted onto something softer- a stretcher that hadn’t been there before.

“What were you doing?” McGonagall said over her shoulder, aimed at Harry and Ron. Sunset could tell that she was struggling to keep her voice down.

“Hermoine, uugh, in the toilet,” Sunset said, and tried sitting up on the stretcher, but McGonagall’s hand kept her down. “Went to warn her.”

McGonagall’s face softened after a moment, and she looked over at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Miss Granger, Mister Potter, and Mister Weasley, you will go straight back to your dormitories, and we’ll talk more about this tomorrow. Miss Shimmer, lie still, please..”

Sunset’s eyesight stabilized enough to see that her classmates were looking at her with a deeply worried expression, which Sunset felt was unwarranted. It wasn’t like she had never taken a blow to the head before.

As she was carried past them, she weakly raised an arm and cried, or at least muttered, “Adventure!”

That’s when she decided to take a nap. Totally of her own volition.

Author's Notes:

Been crazy busy lately, but I managed to find a few small moments where I could write, and this is the result. Perhaps it's a little unfocused, but that's what not being able to have a schedule will result in. Maybe things will stabilize soon, but... well, it's just a maybe.

A Season of Generosity

Sunset woke up with a dry mouth, sore lower back, cold feet, cramping toes, and numb arm, which was strange because the only thing she expected to wake up with was a headache.

She yawned, and stretched, before looking around to see that she was in the hospital wing, which was a location she was getting familiar with.

Someone had changed her into her pyjamas and tucked her into a hospital bed, or at least tried to before Sunset had tossed around too much. It was probably Madam Pomfrey, who Sunset could see moving around in her office.

Sunset felt that her academic pursuits were really getting needlessly delayed by all the visits to this place, and figured that perhaps she could pull a trick similar to what she pulled with Professor Snape, but figured that at least this was more comfortable than the dungeon.

She did dismiss the notion of beating a retreat, however, when she looked to the little table to her side and noticed the bandage on a metal tray.

It had silver blood on it.

Sunset’s eyes shot open, and she quickly reached for it.

It made no sense. She had checked that she had red blood, just like humans, and not the type she was used to as a unicorn.

Quickly scanning around and making sure that there were no other bloodstained articles around, she settled down to inspect it.

A magical inspection comparing herself, and the stain on the bandage, showed that she was under magical effects that the stain was not.

“Oh,” Sunset said, as she formed a likely sounding hypothesis.

She reached with a finger beneath the fresh bandage on her forehead, and pulled it back with a small glob red blood on it.

She placed it on the tray, and pointed her finger on it, sending a moderate amount of raw magic power through it.

It quickly turned into a silver color.

<<Much like… tail, sufficient amounts of magic suppresses... transformative effect... from mirror. Separated blood… reverting…>> Sunset said, looking around for something to make notes with, and not finding anything.

She grunted in frustration, before wiping up the glob of silver blood with the old bandage, and teleporting it away to the roof.

It was just in time, as Madam Pomfrey came marching out of her office.

“What are you doing up, and awake?” she demanded.

“Uuh… I’m showing signs of dehydration, and I’m trying to rectify it?” Sunset offered.

“Are you now?” Madam Pomfrey said, not sounding at all impressed by the notion that people could take care of their problems themselves.

“Uh… yes, my foot is cramping up.”

“Very well,” Madam Pomfrey said, and pulled out her wand, with which she conjured up a glass of water and offered it to Sunset, who gratefully took a sip out of it.

“Thanks. Say, can I get out of here now?”

“No,” Madam Pomfrey said, and looked around, suspiciously. “What happened to your old bandage?”

“Oh, uh… the… seagulls took it,” Sunset said, hoping the audacity might help

Madam Pomfrey simply stared at Sunset for a moment, then grabbed a chart and quill from the foot of the bed..

“... Patient... shows… signs... of... delirium,” she said, writing as she walked up and forced Sunset down into a lying position.

“What? No, that was a joke!”

“How is your sense of humor?” Pomfrey asked, one eyebrow raised

“Uh… good?”

“Patient’s... judgement... greatly... impaired. Recommended... further... stay.”

“Oh come on!”

“You were sent through a closed door by a mountain troll. I’m not taking any chances,” Pomfrey said, looking at Sunset with a strict expression for a moment, before it slowly softened. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

She looked down at the chart again, jotting something down and shaking her head. “I’m not sure how, honestly.”

Sunset also took a moment to calm down, and settled back into the bed. “Well… thank you.”

“That’s alright. Oh, that reminds me, you have some visitors that are eager to meet you if you’re well enough.”

Sunset blinked at Pomfrey. “I have? Who? Uh, sure, I guess I am.”

“Very well.” Pomfrey walked over to open the door leading out of the hospital wing, and said, “You can come in now, but keep it down,” before turning around and walking back towards her office.

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger, nervously but eagerly poked their heads around the corner, to see Sunset lying in the hospital bed, looking at them, confused.

“Uhm, hi,” Hermione said, as they walked up to her. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess,” Sunset shrugged.

“How are you even still here?” Ron asked, his eyes wide.

“I’dunno. By not leaving?” Sunset offered.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, with impressed and slightly disturbed expressions.

“But that thing hit you on the head with its club!” Harry protested.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Sunset said.

“How did you even get into the girls’ bathroom?” Hermione whispered. “I didn’t see you in there.”

“No, you were in the great hall,” Ron said. “I saw you, and so did everyone else.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Sunset said, playing for time. “After Professor Squirrel mentioned the troll I…”

Sunset stopped. This conversation was heading towards revealing that her capabilities dwarfed those of her fellow students, and from what she could tell, most or even all of the staff, which was something Sunset didn’t feel ready for just yet.

“I… started looking for you, Hermione. I think it was Parvati who said you were in a bathroom, so I went over to the bathroom and then… I don’t remember much.”

That was technically true, since there were only a few moments before McGonagall and the others had found her and she decided to take a nap.

“We were worried,” Harry said, a little cautiously.

Sunset opened her mouth, and then closed it again.

In response to those words, she wanted to laugh off what a strange situation she had gotten herself into, but that didn’t quite feel right.

Sunset smiled equally cautiously at Harry. “Well, it turned out okay it seems.”

“Thank you,” Hermione suddenly said.

“What for?”

“For… trying to help me.”

Sunset scoffed lightly. “Yeah, trying. Oh well, at least no one got hurt. Badly that is.”

Harry and Ron chuckled a little nervously, but Hermione was giving Sunset a steady look.

“... None of us saw you come into the bathroom.”

On the inside, Sunset squirmed uncomfortably.

“Uh… I don’t know. I ran through the corridors, something something, then the stench, and then knocked on the head.”

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again, making Sunset whoop in victory internally. Hermione probably didn’t feel comfortable pressing her in this situation.

“So what happened after the knock to the head?” Sunset suddenly asked. “You all seem okay.”

“We actually knocked it’s head!” Ron said, excitedly, before Hermione shushed him, reminding him that he was in the hospital wing.

“How?”

“Ron cast a levitation spell on the troll’s club, and then let it fall right on top of his head,” Harry said, sharing a grin with Ron.

“Only after you rushed forward like a madman with your wand,” Ron insisted.

“It was a really well cast spell,” Hermione said, approvingly.

Sunset, however, silently filed this for her re-evaluation of Harry.

He had somehow killed a really powerful wizard when he was a baby. Was yesterday’s troll battle another indication of great power, a sound tactical mind, forcefulness translating into raw force, or simply great fortune?

All of these hinted that Harry was not someone to be trifled with- even the last option.

Especially the last option. One should not lightly make enemies with Fortune’s pets.

“Well done,” Sunset said, and had to admit she meant it. “What do other people say?”

“About the spell?” Ron asked.

“About you beating the troll.”

“Uuh, I don’t know,” Ron said.

“We came to see your first thing in the morning,” Harry supplied.

“We… didn’t think you’d be up by now,” Hermione said, then continued, in a much more quiet voice. “We were afraid you’d never get up.”

Sunset looked at the trio, a little nervously, and decided to not inform them on how she almost blew up her tower, and a chunk of the castle, when she was a little filly.

“It… wasn’t that bad,” Sunset insisted, a little weakly.

Thankfully, she was saved by Madam Pomfrey, who came marching out of her office.

“Alright, that’s enough. Patients need rest, and they’re not getting any while you’re hovering about.”

“Wait, can you get my books from Gryffindor tower?” Sunset asked them before they were ushered out.

“You are going to be resting, not working,” Pomfrey ordered.

“It’s just reading,” Sunset insisted.

“Oh alright. Just books, no brooms or anything.”

—

Hermione was able to retrieve Sunset’s bag from the girls’ dormitory, and luckily didn’t peek inside it, or she might’ve gotten curious about how the inside of it looked.

“I don’t know how you walk around with this all day!” Ron had grunted, as he dumped the bag onto Sunset’s bed, not knowing that he was carrying around almost an entire shelf of books with a spell to partially lessen the weight on it.

Sunset’s swift recovery didn’t convince Madam Pomfrey that she was actually fit to leave the hospital wing. Of anything, it made her more suspicious.

Sunset suspected that it might be because Pomfrey was unfamiliar with that, and it made her suspicious. She decided to keep her mouth shut though, and keep to the story she gave her classmates: that it simply looked worse than it was. Which was, in a sense, the truth.

Neville had come by too, to awkwardly offer his well-wishes. From what Sunset could tell, it was genuine, rather than just because he missed her advice during class.

After that, it wasn’t long before Sunset was restless. She was well aware of how the body requires some light exercise to focus the mind, but luckily, she was Sunset Shimmer, a unicorn with a mind like a razor, and an iron will.

… She let the third volume of the standard book of spells fall down on her lap with a thump.

“Still no wand waving I hope,” Pomfrey remarked, as she guided a feather duster with her own wand, cleaning off the flower vases in the window.

“No,” Sunset said, and leaned back and tried listening to the coming and goings in the corridors, but all was silent, until she picked up on some distant cheering. “What’s that noise?”

“Quidditch,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Oh.”

Pomfrey paused, and regarded Sunset as she stared up into the ceiling listlessly.

“... If you promise to keep out of trouble, I’ll discharge you this afternoon.”

Sunset stared at the medical matron for a moment, before nodding. “I… always try my best,” she said, leaving her to wonder just how much of a lie that was.

“Do better,” Pomfrey said, and walked back into her office.

The idea of getting out of the hospital wing did cheer Sunset up somewhat, partially because she figured that the longer she stayed in there, the more serious her now non-existent injuries would seem and the more attention would be aimed towards her.

So it was to her relief when Pomfrey said that she was free to go, some hours later and a lot of distant cheering later.

As Pomfrey walked back into her office, Sunset thanked her, and slipped out of her pyjamas, and started pulling on her school uniform which lay, folded and cleaned, beside the bed.

Before she was halfway through though, she noticed Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, eyes wide.

Sunset glanced around for what could be so alarming to the strange boy, but didn’t spot anything, and slowly continued dressing. “Uuh… hello,” she said.

“H-h-h-h-h-hiii,” Draco said.

Sunset figured that perhaps he was doing an impersonation of Professor Quirrel, which might have been in poor taste, but he was pretty good at it.

She slipped her top over her head, and briskly stood up. “There we go. Madam Pomfrey is in her office if you need to see her. You look like you have a fever.”

Malfoy went from impersonating Quirrel to impersonating a drowning fish. “Uh, n-no, I’m… good.”

Sunset nodded, and slung her bag over her shoulder. “And so am I, I’ve been told, so I’m out,” she said, glad to finally be up and about again, and walked towards the door.

To her mild surprise, Draco followed her.

“Were you looking for someone in there?” she asked, as she walked down the corridor.

“Uh, y-yeah. You.”

“Me?”

“I uh… heard you were there, and wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. Thank you.”

Draco suppressed a small gasp and looked absolutely feverish, making Sunset wonder if he was perhaps scared of being seen as sickly around others, and that’s why he claimed to not wanting to see Madam Pomfrey.

“So uhm… that’s why you couldn’t come to the Slytherin stands?” Draco ventured.

Sunset glanced at him. “Slytherin stands?”

“During the… the game. The quidditch game.”

Now it was Sunset’s turn to stammer. “The quidd… oh! Uh, yeah, exactly. Couldn’t leave. Doctor’s orders.”

“Oh. Uhm, how did you end up in there anyway? Some idiots from Hufflepuff said that you and that Harry Potter fought a troll during Hallowe’en.”

“That’s not true,” Sunset said, making Malfoy nod in satisfying vindication before she continued. “I just got hit over the head. Harry and Ron were the ones who knocked it out.”

Malfoy slowed down, and gaped at Sunset for a moment, before catching up, his face contorted in rage, grumbling something incoherent.

“So he was the one who got you in trouble?” Draco hissed.

Sunset recoiled a little. “I wouldn’t say that. Actually, I guess he got me out of trouble. I hate to think what would have happened if Harry and Ron hadn’t been there, with me…” Sunset grimaced at her… thinking back, rather embarrassing display that night. “... out of commission, and a troll who clearly didn’t like me right there.”

Draco’s breathing slowed down to a more normal pace, but Sunset could still smell some pretty strong emotions emanating from him.

“... What do you even see in him?” he eventually asked.

“See in him?” Sunset repeated.

Draco’s eyes shot wide open. “Uh, I mean, uhm, why are you friends with him?”

“Friends? I don’t know, I…”

She stopped in the middle of the corridor, staring straight ahead for a long moment, before her gaze shifted out towards the clear blue sky.

Sunset had been friends with others back in Equestria, but… she wasn’t blind to the fact that there were far more people who simply put up with her than wanted to be her friend. She didn’t care either. Celestia had been all the company Sunset needed. And Kibitz of course, he could be interesting as well at times.

It was clear that Celestia hadn’t been entirely happy with the state of things, and had tried to change Sunset’s number of friends. Most notably with Cadence.

Sunset hadn’t acknowledged Cadence as her friend, but she hadn’t acknowledged her as not her friend either. Sunset tried not to acknowledge Cadence at all.

But… Harry and Ron had… saved Sunset’s life. And Sunset… didn’t find that nearly as humiliating as she thought she would.

“... I… don’t know,” she finished, lamely.

“I think it would be better if you weren’t,” Draco said.

Sunset was too lost in thoughts to pick up on the forcefulness in Draco’s voice, and just kept walking, though slowly.

What did she have to gain from tying herself to others? For that matter, what did she have to lose?

Well, time for one thing. Being friends with someone demanded time, which she could spend on other things, most notably finding out how to become an alicorn.

And they’d probably drag you into their conflicts, which would be another distraction. Sunset didn’t know if Harry had any conflicts, nor Ron, Hermione, or Neville for that matter, but the risk that they’d get into them eventually was very high.

And what would the benefits be? That Harry, or anyone else, would help Sunset out when she needed it? Irrelevant. Sunset doubted that a single student in this school knew more about the relevant subjects than she did, and she doubted she’d get into any violent exchanges. This society had been in a state of outright war from internal enemies a mere decade ago, and she hadn’t seen, or even heard of, any violence during all her months here, and that’s ignoring her relative power.

“... Maybe,” Sunset finally muttered.

But something about that felt strange, and she simply could not figure out why.

About that time, she realized that they were at the intersection east of the great hall, where Gryffindor students and Slytherin students would go in different directions, which reminded Sunset to scout out the lower levels of the castle more thoroughly when she got the time.

“Well uh… thanks for coming to see me,” she ventured.

That seemed to cheer Draco up, and he tried, and partially succeeded, at smirking confidently at her.

“Yeah, I’ll… see you around then?”

“Most likely,” Sunset said, and walked on towards her common room.

—

Sunset climbed into the Gryffindor common room to see some sort of celebration going on, and it smelled like it as well.

It felt like she was intruding on something though, as several students nudged others and pointed at Sunset, earning her several curious looks.

She scanned the room, before spotting the other first years lounging around in some sofas and armchairs, and cautiously approached them.

“Uh, hello, Sunset. How are you?” Lavender asked, smelling a little nervous.

“I’m uh, fine.”

“You’re out already?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. Madam Pomfrey said it wasn’t that bad. Must have been lucky,” Sunset shrugged, and let her bag fall down on an empty seat on the couch, where it sank into the cushion.

The scent of nervousness evaporated, they all looked at each other. Dean and Seamus nodded at each other, impressed.

“Tough,” they nodded.

Suddenly, Fred, or George, lightly bumped into her from the side. “Hey, sleepyhead. You done with your monster wrangling? Have a drink.”

Sunset, confused, took a bottle of pumpkin juice, furiously combing her brain for what the occasion might be, before it came to her.

“The game went well then, I take it?”

“Yeah. No studying for anyone tonight,” George, or Fred, said, from Sunset’s other side. “Youngest seeker in a hundred years, winning the game on his first match.”

“It was incredible,” Neville piped in. “He caught the snitch without using his hands.”

Harry, for his part, smiled that awkward smile of one who isn’t used to so much praise, but who isn’t entirely willing to unabashedly bask in the glory, nervous of what might happen if he did.

“Well done. Too bad I couldn’t see it,” Sunset said, thinking it was a reasonably nice thing to say.

“Thanks.”

“It was really impressive,” Hermione said, nodding in agreement.

Sunset scanned the room, noting the lively and relaxed conversations all around, and how no one was currently studying.

Instead, the common room was filled with a sense of camaraderie, with laughter and cheering.

Cautiously, she lifted her bag out of the couch again, and turned to the stairs.

“You’re not staying?” Ron asked.

“I just… need to get rid of this,” she said.

At the foot of the stairs, Sunset cast a quick perception spell to make her classmates not think about her, before walking up and collapsing in her bed, levitating her books and notebooks in front of her.

Sunset knew that anyone else would have wanted to stay down by the celebrations, and join in the festivities, but a part of Sunset had felt very uncomfortable by the idea. Repulsed even.

Relations. What a waste of time.

Still, for some reason, as Sunset lay in her bed, for some reason, she wished for a sleeping draught.

… All the more reason to study potions in her downtime.

—

The next morning, Sunset was heading towards the exit out of the Gryffindor common room to have breakfast, walking between Hermione behind her, and Lavender and Parvati ahead of her, who, for some reason, were gossiping- something Sunset had never seen them do before, except all the time.

“Oh, Sunset,” Percy said, as he walked past them, looking important. “McGonagall put up a list for people who want to stay at the school during the holidays. If you want to stay, you need to put your name on it.”

Sunset didn’t have time to thank him, which was just as well because she suspected she couldn’t muster the energy to sound anything other than snarky in response to his tone, and instead just shrugged, and walked over to the notice board and scribbled her name on the roll of paper before continuing towards breakfast.

“You’re staying over the holidays?” Hermione asked, conversationally.

“What? Oh. Yeah.”

“Don’t want to go home to your family?” Hermione asked.

It was clear that Parvati and Lavender were listening in, thanks to the sudden absence of whispering and giggling. Sunset felt like pointing that out to them, but figured that it might be easier in the future if they didn’t know how they gave themselves away.

“No, they, uh…”

Sunset searched her brains frantically, and disguised her thinking by taking a big spoonful of porridge, chewing it very slowly.

They’re dead? Sunset groaned at the thought of sympathetic coos she’d receive, like Harry sometimes got. It’s all the same to them? Technically true, but it sounded too much like a call for attention. They’re on vacation? Lies like that have a tendency to catch up with you in highly awkward ways.

Eventually, Sunset swallowed, and just shook her head and shrugged. “I’m just staying.”

Sunset’s expression was calm, but her mind raced. That was too little. It wasn’t satisfactory- on the contrary, it was intriguing! Emergency! Emergency!

“Uhm… how about you?”

“Oh, I’m going home for a bit. I can’t wait to tell my parents all that I’ve learned,” Hermione said, enthusiastically. “It’s just a shame I’m not allowed to show them yet.”

“Mhmm,” Sunset nodded in sympathy, while internally, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

—

Sunset could tell that Snape was in a foul mood, and had decided that she didn’t need to get his attention, so resorted to shrouding herself in a magical perception filter every potions class.

It didn’t make her imperceptible, she figured that if no one could tell she came to class she might get into trouble, but it did deflect the attention of anyone who didn’t have sufficient reason to focus on her, and with the distraction of two houses of first year students, was the case every time.

… Until it became time to work in pairs.

Everyone shuffled over to their preferred working partner, except Crabbe, who ended up looking around himself awkwardly, as the rest of the class settled in to work on their projects.

Sunset stopped grinding her herbs, when she noticed that Snape was looking back and forth, scowling, between Crabbe, the list of students, and the classroom at large.

Suddenly, he looked at Sunset, his eyes narrowing even more, as he studied her for several moments.

“Shimmer, you will work with Crabbe,” he said, in a strangely reserved voice.

Just like that, the effect was broken, and the rest of the class glanced at her, not quite knowing why they were surprised at noticing her.

Sunset sighed, and collected her cauldron and supplies, before walking over to Crabbe and sitting down next to him.

“Hello,” she said, in a polite, if cool, tone of voice.

Crabbe nervously looked back and forth between Sunset and Draco, who was giving him a stern look for some reason, before giving an uncertain grunt in response.

“... I concur,” Sunset said, and nodded gravely, and looked at their collective reagents laid out before them. “Are you good at cutting slugs?”

“Uh…”

“Alright, I’ll do it, you measure up the powdered roots,” Sunset said, as she brought up a slug and a knife, and started cutting, occasionally making a stirring motion with her finger in the direction of her mortar and pestle, making them move magically.

As she finished, she looked up to see that Crabbe hadn’t moved at all.

Sunset raised her eyebrow at him. “Having trouble there?”

Then she saw where he was looking; at the mortar and pestle moving by themselves at her occasional encouragement.

Sunset sighed to herself, and simply took the powder and measuring instruments, and Crabbe’s work for him, not having the energy to worry about her, in this world, unusual capabilities.

It helped a lot that she had finished up the entire first year book of potions in her spare time, and had just started on the second year’s book.

One phase in the making of the potion was to stir in a particular pattern, as one alternated mixing in the three separate ingredients, divided in very small packages, in different intervals. Hence, why this was a potion to be worked on in pairs.

Of course, that was child’s play for someone with Sunset’s level of arcanokinetic control, but she felt she should at least offer him to contribute some.

“Alright, I’ll stir, and you be ready with the nettles and root, and I’ll put in the slug parts,” she said.

“Uhm… alright,” Crabbe offered, which Sunset thought was the first time he had heard him actually say words.

Sunset stirred in the rhythmic manner that the book described, and tossed in the slug parts in the right order, having to stop Crabbe from tossing the ingredients in too early.

“Stop,” she simply ordered, as Crabbe’s hand suddenly was unable to move, until Sunset released it a few seconds later. “Proceed.”

Snape threw an occasional glance in their direction, but wasn’t as nasty as other times. Sunset figured that he was either preoccupied with other matters, or the fact that she had been forced to work with Crabbe made it so that he couldn’t sabotage her efforts without dragging one from his own house down as well.

Sunset couldn’t care less about the grades, but it was nice to be able to do some school work without constant interference for a change.

Of course, it also meant working with Crabbe, which was not ideal, his big, meaty hands making a mess of everything, forcing Sunset to hurry up and do as much of the work as possible to keep it from being ruined.

So it was to her mild surprise when their potion was finished half an hour before everyone else.

“... I guess we’re done for today?” Sunset noted to Crabbe.

“... Ook?”

That was probably Sunset unconsciously perceiving him as an ape rather than the more human sounds he probably made. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, as Snape came over to inspect their work.

He stirred the potion slightly, looking at it critically for a moment.

“... Acceptable,” he said, emotionless. “You may leave.”

Sunset silently packed her bags and left. She didn’t feel like fighting with Snape today, and apparently the feeling was mutual.

She walked up to the Gryffindor common room, which was practically empty as classes were still going on, and slouched into an armchair in front of the fireplace, a troubled scowl on her face.

Just like his friend, Goyle, Crabbe was tough. Crabbe was quiet and stoic. Crabbe exuded, or tried to exude, an air of confidence and danger.

The mildest of scowls from Celestia could send rich and powerful ponies into a state of abject terror.

Crabbe just came across as stupid.

Sunset felt like she learned something that day.

—

When the holidays started, Sunset woke up to find her dormitory abandoned, save for herself.

The areas surrounding Parvati and Lavender’s beds were missing only a few articles, including the girls themselves, but were otherwise as messy as they were before. This was in contrast to the skeleton of Hermione’s organized chaos, with all her reading and studying material being gone along with her, and left only some scattered quills and a bag of potions supplies.

This was more like it, or so Sunset felt. She magically floated into the air, and flicked her hands across her body, pulling her pyjamas off and sending it into a neatly folded pile on her bed, which also made itself, before making a reverse gesture, aimed at her normal clothes, which similarly zoomed up and put themselves on her.

She snapped her fingers to summon up a small ball of magic power, and whirled her finger at it, forming it into an armchair, which she floated into, and sat down.

Months of cooping up her arcane prowess had made her magic feel outright antsy, and she finally had more than a brief window to let loose.

She languidly stretched, the armchair leaning its backrest back to accommodate her, before it floated over to the window, allowing her a good view of the castle ground and the surrounding woods and hills.

Sunset liked staring at landscapes from high altitudes, a part of her felt she belonged in the air.

After a few moments, she magically turned the armchair around, and floated out of her dorm, and down the stairs, a content smile on her face.

It wasn’t until she was halfway across the common room when she heard voices behind her, coming from the stairs to the boys’ dormitory.

<<Manure.>>

She floated the chair down onto the floor with a thud and jumped out of it, just as Ron and Harry were coming around the corner, looking around for what made the noise.

“Mmmornin, Sunset,” Harry said.

“Uh, good morning.”

“Yeah, mornin’. What’re you up to?” Ron asked.

“Uhm… practicing how to make my winter cape billow the way I want it to.”

“Ah, roight.”

That seemed to be a perfectly adequate explanation for the two, and they continued after Sunset, down towards the great hall to get breakfast.

“Anyway, you gotta see some of Doctor Fillibuster’s fireworks,” Ron gushed at Harry. “Fred and George traded some from Lee Jordan, his dad got his hands on a whole crate once.”

Harry looked dreamily up into the ceiling. “Yeah… I’ve only seen fireworks a few times, from the windows.”

“Why?” Ron asked.

“Eh… the muggles always buy the biggest pieces they can, but they tell me to go inside as soon as Dudley notices I’m out as well.”

“Why?”

This time it was Sunset’s turn to ask, as she looked back at them.

Harry shrugged. “They don’t like me.”

The books had mentioned that Harry’s parents were killed by the Dark Lord, so it made sense if he lived with more distant relatives. She felt a twinge of familiarity with Harry, and remembered the frustratingly stifling orphanage, and its one, single, battered novice-level spellbook - although she was lucky it was there - as it had led to getting the attention of royalty.

Sunset gave Harry a scrutinizing look. If the muggles were the reason he was so short and scrawny, the ponies back home would be very upset with them, with his looks being a constant reminder of mistreatment. Harry filled half the criteria for a timeless handsomeness. Canterlot was the heart of Equestrian fashion, and while the styles changed seemingly every season, a big and strong colt or stallion with wind-swept mane was a constant when it came to good looks.

Sunset walked into the great hall, where only a few scatterings of students were present. A few older Hufflepuffs were lazily giggling at the shapes they were making with their oatmeal, and a second year Ravenclaw looked like she had caught a cold.

It was strangely nice, a calm contrast to the life and energy that was normally felt during breakfast. She sat with her chin in her hand, lazily chewing her breakfast as collected her additional findings about potions in her potions book, scribbling little notes in the margins, cataloguing the ways she had found to optimise the processes.

After finishing her meal, Sunset walked the corridors, not deep in thought, as she kept hitting shallow loops while trying to think.

How does one become an alicorn? Doing what Celestia did. What did Celestia do? All kinds of things, learning all manners of magic being among them. Is that the wisest course of action, or is that just what Sunset was biased towards because she liked learning magic? What else did she do? Defeat evil tyrant… after becoming an alicorn. Good thing too, because this world’s evil tyrant was already dead.

Celestia… has a sweet tooth? Unlikely to be related to immortality.

Celestia… taught students? Less unlikely than sugar but… still not good enough.

Celestia was nice and fair? No she wasn’t, not when it didn’t suit her.

Sunset sighed in frustration, and stared out the window towards the snow-covered grounds, the mountains in the distance, and the forbidden forest.

Some people preferred people knowing when they broke the rules, and chuckled to herself when she thought of what Fred and George might be getting up to now, during winter, not having classes to distract them and far fewer eyes on them.

Sunset however, preferred breaking rules on the quiet, when no one saw her enter, and no one saw her leave.

She pulled her black winter cloak out of her bag and fastened it around her shoulders, before waving her hand at the breastplate of an armor next to her, instantly polishing it to a mirror sheen for her to inspect herself in.

The armor moved its helmet to look down at Sunset a little indignantly.

“Yeah, suck it up,” she said, satisfied with the way it billowed around her, and walked out towards the ground, waving her hands under her cloak once again, this time at her feet.

She walked out into the light snowfall, her soles pressing down on the surface as if she was made of feathers, and made her way towards the forest.

The grey brightening effect of the snow in the middle of the day helped light up the interior of the forest as well, but Sunset could see how the effect lessened further in.

Gryphons and other races could have strange perceptions of ponies. One had to travel a bit into the land to find Equestrian cities, so the gryphons living near the border saw mostly rural, practical ponies, and how they had so effectively tamed and befriended the land, working with the forests to keep them healthy as it provided them with forage and wicker and various other commodities.

Others might see the ponies as highly urbanized, as Sunset was. Living in cities that could stretch out into the horizon, but even so, the land remained befriended, rather than controlled. Having a love of nature was simply part of being a pony. Even city-raised unicorns, like Sunset, who would often be considered among the least in-tune with nature, felt a friendship with the land, which was certainly reflected in Canterlot, with it’s frequent dots of parklands, big and small. It was often unclear where the royal gardens ended and the actual palace began, as the honeysuckles and rose bushes cheerfully crept up to greet the ponies walking through the marble walkways.

Sunset felt a comfortable sense of excitement as she walked deeper into the dark, half-wild forest.

The coniferous woods were interrupted here and there by snowy clearings and other large trees like oaks, and some quaint burrows and downs.

Eventually, the snow started to make way for soft moss, and the climate started shifting from winter and becoming autumnal.

Sunset stopped, and a small, excited smirk grew on her face. Something lived here that was capable of manipulating the weather, and it looked like they had not felt like introducing winter just yet.

She crouched low, and quickly leapt from cover to cover, in a merry game against an unseen quarry.

Deeper and deeper she went, an unreserved smile always on her face in the dark woods, so deep that not even winter had penetrated it. From bushed to ravines, to rocky outcroppings she scurried, eager to see some of her kin.

She stopped in the cover of a large tree, and crouched down when she saw a hoofprint in the moss next to her boot. They seemed to breed them large around here, like that officer cadet in the royal guard, Shining something.

Sunset let out a playful roar in her mind, and stood up to sniff the air.

There was magic, there was life, and there were hoofprints. This felt promising.

Movement in the distance made her want to angle her ear towards the direction it had come from, and she took a step to the side to see what had made the sound.

When she walked out from behind the tree, what she saw made her blood freeze, and her smile melted away in an instant, before she threw herself behind the trunk next to her and carefully peered out from behind it.

In the distance, in an opening in the trees, were indeed hoofed creatures. Two of them, moving slowly and deliberately, eyes scanning back and forth around them, bows at the ready, and chests made up with crude, profane markings.

Centaurs.

Sunset couldn’t help but hiss under her breath, as they caused her mood to fall far and hard.

“What are they doing here?”

They looked suspiciously in her direction, and Sunset carefully slid back behind the tree, leaning her back against it.

Suddenly, the forest didn’t look as inviting and full of opportunities, and Sunset’s chest heaved from the disappointed, heavy breathing.

As the soft sound of sneaking hooves approached, she melted away into the forest, heading back the way she came, her cloak held tightly around her.

Closer to the school, the terrain became much more even, and with some light magic on her cloak, she quickly made her way out of the forest, where he stopped outside of the treeline, and turned to face the forest, a look of deep disappointment on her face.

She let out a sad sigh, and walked on top of the snow back up to the castle.

She had taken several steps into the castle, crestfallen, when she felt a hand grab her by her collar and yank her face to face with Argus Filch.

“Out for a stroll in the Forbidden Forest are we?” he hissed in her face.

Sunset let out another sigh, this time a frustrated one. She did not feel up for this at the moment.

“Ugh, I don’t know. Are you?” she asked, trying to lean away from his breath.

“You’d best behave, little girl, I’ve seen you come out of the woods I have, just now.”

Sunset thought for a second, then calmly said, “then there should be a trail in the snow.”

Filch looked out through the open doors, and spied futilely across the pristine, white snow in confusion.

He was about to bark something else accusatory at Sunset, when Professor Snape suddenly spoke from their side.

“Ah, another Gryffindor who thinks that rules do not apply to them I see. What has she done this time, Argus?”

“She’s been out in the forest, she has,” Filch said, grinning at the professor.

Sunset grunted to herself, and put her hands behind her back under her cloak, flexing her fingers as, unseen to the teachers, magic swirled around them.

“Caught her coming back,” Filch continued. “Bet she’s stolen some… some…”

But Filch’s expression faltered, becoming confused and unfocused, as Sunset seemed to want to slip out of his mind, and the surrounding excitement lost their context without her.

He let go of Sunset’s collar, who carefully took a few steps back, while Snape looked at Filch impatiently.

“Stolen some what, man?” he demanded.

“I… don’t know…”

Sunset kept waving her fingers behind her back, encouraging the two men to lose interest in her, to ignore her.

Even Snape seemed to falter for a moment, but there were so few distractions, and the situation drew attention to her, that his eyes darted around the entrance for a moment, before finally focusing on Sunset again, as she felt the half-formed tapestry of illusions shatter.

<<Ugh, sloppy.>>

Snape looked at Sunset, his otherwise neutral expression having just a hint of distress, before it hardened into its default sneer.

“To the headmaster’s office, Shimmer,” he barked, and just like Filch, grabbed her collar to push her in front of him, although he found himself equally dragging himself behind her.

“Could you people stop abusing my cloak?” Sunset protested, and threw it to rest behind her back. “I only have one.”

Snape prodded her between shoulder blades, and she marched on with a dejected sigh.

It had been a bad day, full of disappointments, and now, for wanting some freedom and time for herself, Sunset was being harassed by a vindictive clown, who tried his best to threaten her, even though they both knew that he wasn’t allowed to hurt her, and she knew she could crush him in an instant.

It was a bit like being threatened by small children. It seems funny at first, but eventually it’ll just be frustrating.

They quickly made their way up to Dumbledore’s office, where the gargoyle in front of the stairs stepped out of the way, and Snape calmly knocked on the door.

The door opened, revealing Albus Dumbledore on the other side, a relaxed smile on his face, as Rubeus Hagrid looked up at the door, a bowl of mint candies in one hand, with one of them halfway to his mouth.

“Ah, Severus, and Miss Shimmer. Do come in. The holidays are treating you well, I hope?”

Before Snape could speak, Sunset said, “pretty good, thank you, professor, and likewise. Hello, Mister Hagrid.”

“‘Ello there,” Hagrid said, smiling politely, and put the bowl back on Dumbledore’s desk.

“So, can any of us be of service?” Dumbledore pleasantly asked.

“I have caught this young student casting spells on me,” Snape said, coldly. “A very serious overstepping of Hogwarts rules, and which demands swift and harsh punishment.”

Sunset scoffed. Her tolerance for this was running thin.

Dumbledore’s smile became patient, and he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers and nodding at Snape.

“Very well, Severus, describe the event.”

“Miss Shimmer was entering the great hall, when Argus Filch caught her, having seen her exit the Forbidden Forest–” Sunset scoffed to herself “– and when I inquired about the situation, I felt a clear effect of mind-affecting magic, much like a confundus charm, which leads me to ask where such a young student learned such magic, and why she felt it appropriate to use it on a teacher.”

Sunset said nothing, but prepared an evaluation of Dumbledore in her head.

“Miss Shimmer, would you like to say anything regarding this?” Dumbledore asked, invitingly, passing the first hurdle.

Sunset folded her arms, and looked out the window. “It’s a lie,” she said, simply.

Snape’s hard expression shifted ever so slightly to become far more threatening. “Impertinent. There are ways to find out what spells a wand has cast.”

“Knock yourself out,” Sunset said, pulling out her wand and flicking it at Snape, offering the handle part to him.

“Ah, but Miss Shimmer,” Dumbledore said. “You have shown to have a great aptitude when it comes to wandless magic. I think another approach will be needed.”

“I’m all ears if it gets me out of here.”

“There is the potion answer to the question,” Snape said, in a sickly sweet voice.

“Oh? Do share,” Sunset said, spinning around and facing Snape.

Snape smiled predatorically, and pulled out a small vial of clear liquid from within his robes. “This… is veritaserum. One drop of this will be enough to make anyone tell their deepest secrets.”

Hagrid looked shocked. “Now ‘old on ‘ere.”

Dumbledore placatingly held up his hand. “Severus–”

“Accepted,” Sunset declared, loudly, putting emphasis on every syllable, and walked over to a cupboard, waving her hands as she did, and opened it to reveal a pitcher of water and two empty glasses, which she brought over to the headmaster’s desk.

Dumbledore looked taken aback, but only for a second, not enough for anyone to notice, before Sunset put the glasses on his desk, and filled them both halfway up, before pulling out a scrap of paper from her robes, and a muggle pen, and scribbled one sentence on it.

“Potion,” she ordered, holding out the glasses in front of Snape. “Pour one for yourself, if you dare.”

Snape continued to stare coldly at Sunset, before he poured a drop into one glass.

Sunset scoffed, and said, “figures,” before walking up to Hagrid and handing him the note.

Then she emptied the glass with the truth potion in it in one gulp.

“Read the note,” she ordered, before anyone else could say anything.

Hagrid looked at Sunset for a second, his mouth hanging open, before he managed to rally. “Oh, ahem. Ah, have yer, Sunset Shimma, ever cast aner margic on Professah Sev’rus Snape?”

Sunset could practically feel how the synapses in her brain fired without her approval, and slid past several steps to skip straight to speaking.

“No.”

She had, after all, only used illusory magic on herself.

She scoffed at the room at large, and before anyone could say anything else, she turned to the door.

“We’re done here,” she said, and stormed out of the room.

She quickly walked down the stairs and rounded two corners, before she stepped inside an empty classroom, and vanished with a small flash, reappearing in her dormitory.

She unfastened her cloak, and hung it on one of the posters of her bed, before collapsing into the mattress.

Sunset could feel herself calming down, but that didn’t completely help. Something beside her high temper was a problem.

She puffed up a pillow, and rolled over to the side, where her eyes came to focus on her bag, lying half-open, with an old, familiar book inside it. A reminder of better times. The best of times in fact.

She carefully sat up, and pulled the book into her lap, before carefully opening it and turning to the latest page written on it.

What she saw made her heartbeat pick up and ache in her chest.

Rows and rows of writing. The first ones were shakely, panickely written, then calmer ones, and finally ones with big splotches from tears smearing the ink.

Sunset where are you?

Sunset please answer me!

Please are you okay!?

Sunset I’m worried

Please answer

Come back. Please.

Sunset. I’m sorry. Please come back. I beg you.

I understand if you’re Sunset, I take back everything I said. Please come back, so we can talk. I’m sorry, I was wrong.

You don’t have to tell me anything, but please, I just want to know you’re okay.

I’m sorry, Sunset. I’m so sorry.

Please answer.

I miss you.

I’m still here. I hope you’re okay, and I hope you’ll answer soon, even though I don’t deserve it.

I miss you so much.

Just one word. Please.

I love you.

Sunset only managed to stare at the text for a few seconds, before she automatically reached for the pen in her robes, and brought it to the page. She tried protesting, but it felt as if her hand moved on its own.

I’m in a magic school on another world as a student.

I’m not okay. I’m not hurt, but I miss you, I miss everything. I’m so angry with you but I still miss you so much.

I wish I could come back, but I can’t. I want to talk too, and I was wrong as well.

Sunset tried shaking her head, but her hand just kept moving.

I love you too.

Sunset stared down at the page, trying to shake her head, or voice any sort of protest, as her vision blurred.

She blinked a tear from her eyes, which fell down on the page, smearing a spot of ink, just like Celestia had.

She punched her fist into her thigh, again and again, getting weaker every time, as she bent over the book, the tears flowing freely from her eyes.

When she next opened them, she saw what she both feared and longed for most in her life.

Sunset?

Yes.

Celestia wrote Sunset’s name, then paused, shakily continuing as she searched for words.

Sunset I am sorry. I’m sorry for what I said, and I hope you’ll forgive me. If not now, then some time. Why are you not okay? Is there any way I can help? Can you come back?

Sunset managed to take a deep breath, but then her hand moved again, writing quickly and steady, and Sunset didn’t know if she liked the idea of coming across as cold with her firm writing or not.

I think I forgive you, but I don’t know. I regret leaving, I miss the castle, and Canterlot, and Equestria, and I miss you. I’m under the effect of a truth potion, and I don’t think you can help. I don’t know how to get back. I don’t know how I got here.

The book was still for a moment, before Celestia continued.

I’m sorry. It’s not right of me to ask questions of you then. Why have you taken a truth potion?

The potions teacher over here. He accused me of casting spells on him, and he suggested using a truth potion to make me admit it, and I got fed up with his attitude and accepted. I hadn’t used any magic on him by the way.

Oh my little Sunset. You need to be nicer to your teachers. You’ll give them ulcers.

He’s earned it.

Celestia paused once again, and her writing started coming across more steadily.

Sunset, will you be okay? Tell me if there is anything I can do to help.

I’ll be fine. I just miss you, and I’m happy we got to talk. I hope we can do it again. I think that will help.

Of course, my little Sunset. I’m here for you.

Sunset. I’m sorry about the rea why you I’m sorry, but I can’t actually make you an alicorn. I can’t make anypony an alicorn. I was hoping to guide you to finding the path yourself, just as I did.

Sunset sat in silence for a moment, before nodding to herself, heavily.

I think I always knew that, deep down.

I still have to try though. I don’t know if I can not try.

Of course. Sunset, when I took you in, it wasn’t just because you had more power than half my faculty put together. I saw more in you than that.

I can try and help you, but in the end, it’s you who will find the path to becoming an alicorn. I’m convinced you can do it, but whether you do it or not, please know that I’m proud of you.

Thank you, princess.

And now, I feel a little bad about asking you all these questions when you can’t refrain from answering.

Please, be safe. And if you need my help, tell me.

Sunset chuckled to herself.

I’m Sunset Shimmer, remember?

You certainly are.

One last thing, Sunset.

Are you making any friends?

Sunset paused.

I don’t know. Maybe. I think so.

Good. Everypony needs friends, Sunset.

And Sunset. Happy Hearth’s Warming.

Happy Hearth’s Warming.

Sunset gently closed the book, then opened it again, staring at Celestia’s words until the sun started setting, reading them over and over, a small, relieved smile on her face.

Finally, she leaned back, curled up and resting her head on her pillow, resting a hand on her book and making sure it was always there. It was the most restful sleep she had had in a long time.

—

Twilight Sparkle carefully walked through the halls of Canterlot Castle, towards Celestia’s personal suite, a book hovering in front of her.

She hesitated when she saw the stone-faced guard in front of the door, staring straight ahead, but then he turned his eyes towards Twilight, and gave her a kind, encouraging smile. Even if the royal guards hadn’t found the princess’ new student so endearing, they’d still treat her with the utmost respect. Shining Armor, her brother, was noble and kind, but had an absolutely fearsome side.

Twilight smiled too, in relief, and nervously entered Celetia’s quarters.

“Uhm… princess? Where are you?” she asked, as she closed the door.

“I’m in here, Twilight,” Celestia answered from another room.

Twilight walked up to the dimly lit room, and let out a gasp at what she saw, and started backing away again.

The princess was crying.

She didn’t get far though, as Celestia looked up and smiled at Twilight through her tearful eyes.

“It’s alright, Twilight,” she said, and held out a hoof invitingly.

Twilight walked up and let herself be embraced by her teacher.

“What’s wrong, princess?” she asked.

Celestia just closed her eyes as she lay a wing over her young student. “Nothing is wrong, Twilight. Nothing at all.”

She opened her eyes, and looked at what Twilight had brought with her. “Have you found an interesting book?”

“Uhm, yes. I wanted some help to understand it but… uhm… I don’t want to bother you,” she said, fiddling her hooves nervously.

“You don’t bother me, Twilight,” Celestia said. “Quite the opposite.”

Twilight smiled, bashfully. “Uhm, okay. Princess, why were you crying if nothing’s wrong?”

Celestia chuckled, interrupted by a single sob. “Because I’m happy.”

Twilight looked up at Celestia in amazement. “Really? Why?”

Celestia’s embrace tightened for a moment. “We can start with your book if you’d like, or I can tell you about another student of mine.”

Reflections in the Dark

Sunset woke up alone and without presents, on the local holiday of celebrating with family and friends, and receiving gifts.

It was the best morning she’d had in many moons.

She looked at the book which was still lying next to her pillow, and rested her hand on it.

It was back to being a very precious object, and Sunset languidly stretched in bed as she thought up ways to enchant the book to never be in danger.

She stepped out of her bed and out of her pyjamas, savoring how cozy the dorm was, and appreciating the presence of the fireplace. As she woke up from the slightly chilly air, she aimed her hand at the fireplace, collected some of the heat, and coated her uniform with it before slipping into the now warm clothes.

She set to wandering aimlessly through the corridors of the castle, savoring the refreshing feeling of the cold air on her face while she magically kept her clothes warm, a serene smile on her face as she let her subconsciousness process yesterday’s developments.

The saddle was back on Sunset Shimmer. Celestia had confirmed it: Alicornhood, eternity, was within her grasp.

Sunset paused. Something was missing about that.

… Ah yes, of course.

She stretched her arm out, and dramatically clenched her fist, shaking it slightly as she brought it to her face, a determined expression upon it.

… Alicornhood… Eternity... was within her grasp!

Much better.

Sunset let out a satisfied sigh before wandering on.

“There you are!”

Sunset almost jumped at the sound of Madam Pomfrey’s voice.

“Miss Shimmer!” she said, very loudly, as she stomped through the corridor towards Sunset. “Would you care to explain the rumors I’ve heard?”

Sunset’s mood fell. Had she missed a piece of bloodied bandage during her last visit to the hospital wing?

Just play it cool, she thought to herself.

“What rumors would that be?”

“That you willingly drank veritaserum!” Pomfrey demanded, coming up to Sunset and looking down at her.

Sunset internally let out a sigh of relief, and shrugged at the medical witch.

“Maybe you should bring it up with your colleagues who make false allegations towards me,” Sunset suggested.

“Oh I will, you can count on that,” Madam Pomfrey said, angrily. “And now, you are to come with me, or I shall see you restrained.”

“Fine, fine,” Sunset conceded, and marched after Madam Pomfrey, who marched at a breakneck pace. “Just take it easy. You’re making me, a minor who apparently needs medical attention, exert herself.”

“Then let that be a lesson!” Madam Pomfrey barked, although she gradually slowed down. “And you don’t need physical rest, you need the aftereffects of the potion neutralized.”

“There are aftereffects?” Sunset asked.

“There can be, and I’m not taking any chances. Some wizards and witches have trouble clearing out some of the components, increasing the risk of mis-medication in the future, and with your propensity for hospital visits, young miss, you will require a thorough scrubbing.”

“Hey, except for the thing with the troll, I’ve never actually needed to spend time here,” Sunset said, as they entered the hospital wing once again.

She strictly speaking didn’t need medical treatment that time either, just a lie down would have sufficed, but Sunset kept that to herself.

Madam Pomfrey stopped and let out a shivering sigh, and nursed her temples. “Trolls. First year students fighting trolls. Merlin, help me,” she said, and looked at Sunset, her shoulder slumping and her demeanor softening significantly. “Please, sit down.”

Sunset felt that was enough sass for now, and did as she was told, sitting on the edge of a hospital bed.

“So uh… what does this involve?” Sunset asked.

“Nothing to worry about,” Madam Pomfrey said, and brought a brown glass bottle up from a cart and placed it on the nightside table, as well as a small bowl with what looked like small tufts of hair.

She started carefully dropping individual pieces of hair into the bottle and gently shaking it around.

“So… humans can have trouble clearing out veritaserum?” she asked.

“Some, yes.”

“Well then, I shouldn’t–” Sunset said, with a confident smile, before stopping herself. “... Uhm… I shouldn’t skip out on that.”

Madam Pomfrey looked at Sunset with an eyebrow raised, and Sunset looked away sheepishly, her eyes wandered to the rows of books inside Madam Pomfrey’s office, visible through the window that made up an entire wall.

“So what you need to become a healer is in those books?” Sunset probed.

“Most of it,” Pomfrey said.

“That might be useful. Think I can take a look at those?”

“No. I’ll not have first years running around practicing medicine on each other.”

Madam Pomfrey finished up the simple concoction, and looked up to see Sunset with her wand out, levitating several large magnifying glasses from the small carts next to the bed, and a mirror, in order to read the titles on the books from where she sat.

“Medical… maladies… volume four,” she slowly read, squinting her eyes to see the distant font.

Sunset looked up at Madam Pomfrey, and sheepishly waved her wand again. “Crepinde,” she muttered, making the mirror and magnifying glasses float down to the floor.

Madam Pomfrey didn’t have the energy to scold Sunset anymore, and simply shook her head. “You are impossible,” she said, as she held out the bottle to Sunset.

“That’s good, isn’t it? It’s like the far opposite of being easy,” Sunset said, and took the bottle, emptying it in one swig, and then looking at it. “Hmm. That was better than I thought it would be. What is this?”

“Butterbeer,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Now you’d best get along to the feast.”

“Oh right, it’s rist… k-kist... mess… that thing,” Sunset said, and stood up. “Thanks again.”

Sunset heard the sound of another bottle opening as she rounded the corner.

—

The feast in the dining hall was honestly pretty much the same food as was always eaten during the dinner, only more kinds of meals at once, and a lot of it.

Then again, that’s how feasts worked in Equestria as well, with the general mood and energy helping with the general understanding that this was supposed to be an evening of much eating and quaffing, or as it often played out, stuffing and binging.

The Weasleys and Harry had all gathered in the middle of the Gryffindor table, somewhat reluctantly In Percy’s case, and everyone seemed very welcoming of Sunset.

It was rather nice, really, listening to Fred and George’s intentionally stupid-sounding laughs as they pulled at magical present-tube-things with spells on them to fit larger gifts than normally possible inside them.

With the food and drink, and the soothing development yesterday, Sunset drifted into a sort of haze of content-ness, like a budgerigar relaxing in the surrounding cacophony.

“Have one,” Fred said, and handed Sunset a present.

Sunset pulled it open, producing the same blast as the other ones, and found a set of bouncy balls with that increased velocity with each bounce.

Sunset raised her eyebrows at that, before hiding it away inside her robes. “Potent.”

She got a good few hours of studying in the common room, since Percy was up in the boys’ dorm and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys were out on the grounds, having a snowball fight.

After such a lazy day, Sunset was lying awake in bed, unable to sleep. Not that she minded. There were several days off left, and even if there weren’t, she only needed a fraction of her mental capacity to master spells.

The curtains of her bed facing the fireplace were drawn, and the cozy, orange fire chased away most of the wintery cold of the dorm, while leaving just enough to make it extra cozy to take shelter underneath her comforter.

She had to admit that while the curriculum was often so very simple, or useless, there must have been something that felt straining about her life at Hogwarts, as it was very nice to have a holiday.

The soothing calm was shattered by a blood-curdling scream.

Somewhere, in the distance, something very bad had just happened.

Sunset was out of the bed in less than a second, landing on her feet in a wide stance in her nightgown, as her comforter was still coming to rest behind her.

Her wand was in her hand and her nails were glowing, as she forced her adrenaline to focus her rational mind rather than her instincts.

The sound had come from another wing of the castle, but she had to be sure that it was not a distraction.

She leapt out of her room, and swooshed down the stairs in quick, bounding steps, wand raised high, and eyes and ears quickly scanning her surroundings.

The common room was empty and quiet in the low, red light of the ember in the fireplace, and she silently bounded up the stairs to the boys’ dorm.

The door quickly swung open, the wind from that scattering wrappings from presents and candies, as Sunset jumped in, head on a swivel.

But all was still, except for the snoring from Ronald, the volume of which was quite impressive for an eleven year old.

There was no Harry however.

Sunset narrowed her eyes as she thought, then cast an obfuscating spell on herself, before she vanished, and reappeared in the large hallway on the fifth floor of the wing the sound had come from.

The patter of quickly walking feet echoed from around the corner. By contrast, Sunset’s bare feet silently darted towards the sound, and came to a halt by a corner that she stopped by, and listened.

“You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library– Restricted Section,” said Filch, his usual cocktail of smells accompanied by Snape’s sour ones.

“The Restricted Section? Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them.”

They set off towards the corner Sunset was pressed against, but with them as focused as they were on their destination and fleeing or hiding shapes in the darkness, it was easy enough for Sunset to just relax, calmly lean against the wall, and watch them pass her by with a slightly amused expression, completely oblivious to her presence.

Sunset was calming down. The faculty was out patrolling, and as low as her opinion was on the particular specimen she just witnessed, she had to assume that they’d at least try to keep tragedies from happening.

Besides, if there was danger afoot, she’d obey the rule in this particular case and let those two walk into it first if they so wished.

When she paused to think about it though, she realized that it was probably just a student breaking curfew, and the scream had been an alarm.

… A part of Sunset felt strangely challenged by that.

She also suspected she knew which student.

To her amazement, she could feel Harry’s normally slightly nervous but mostly neutral scent, right from where Snape and Filch had just stood.

Carefully, she crept forward to the door that was only slightly ajar. She couldn’t help laughing to herself from Harry’s daring. Snape hated Harry, and Harry had been standing mere feet away from him, after curfew.

She pushed the door open ever so slightly, and there he was, looking at a mirror. He spun around with a shocked look on his face, and Sunset barely had the presence of mind to duck behind the corner.

He saw through her illusion that easily? That was impossible. Snape’s senses were as slippery as he himself looked, and even his perception could be grappled by Sunset. Perhaps Harry really was a force of nature, killing Dark Lords as a baby and all that.

“Mum?” she heard him whisper.

That was when Sunset realized what room she was standing outside. She peeked around the corner again, and saw him standing with a hand on the glass of that mirror, the one showing one’s true desires, looking up at, to Sunset, unseen figures standing behind him.

“Dad?”

Sunset’s mouth fell open slightly, as Harry slowly raised his other hand, and rested them both against the mirror’s glass.

She felt strangely humbled from standing there, witnessing this, before her shoulders sagged, and she slipped away, rounding another corner before vanishing in a flash, and reappearing beside her bed in the Gryffindor girls’ dormitory.

She slid into bed, adjusted her cover, and settled down to rest.

The coziness of the room was as glorious as ever, but it didn’t hold the same appeal it had done only moments before.

Sunset shut the curtains, turned over, and slowly fell asleep.

—

Sunset could hear Harry and Ron sneak out of Gryffindor tower the following night, but decided not to follow them.

She noticed that Harry’s mood was very muted, and since there were so few students in the common room, that really helped dampen the mood. He would be lost in thoughts most of the time, and barely touch his food.

“What do you think?” Fred asked in a low voice from the couch, glancing back at Harry sitting by himself. “Go fish.”

George put on the sou-wester and lowered a miniature fishing rod into an aquarium on the table to try and coax some cards swimming around in it to nibble at the hook.

“He’s obviously worried about his academic achievements,” Percy said, his nose deep in a book of ministers of magic.

“Mm, of course,” said George, not looking up. “That’s what orphans usually think about during Christmas time.”

Percy didn't look up either, but his face did turn slightly more red.

Sunset was curled up in an armchair next to them, reading the last parts of The Standard Book of Spells, volume 2, with the cover switched out with the previous volume.

“Have you noticed anything, Sunset?” Fred asked.

Sunset knew of his nightly excursions, but preferred not to lie unless necessary. “Hmm… some. Nothing interesting though.”

That night, she heard Harry make half an effort at sneaking down out of the tower, while she lay in bed, pondering.

A part of her simply shrugged and encouraged Sunset to roll over and fall asleep.

But Harry was making so much noise he was bound to get caught sooner rather than later.

On the other hand, why would she care? They weren’t friends, and even if they were, he'd be better off making other ones.

Though he might not be able to make friends if he was expelled.

…

Sunset threw off her covers, stepped into her fuzzy slippers, and teleported to an empty classroom a short distance from the room with the mirror.

She reckoned that she was probably not doing anyone any favours. At least if there’s any truth to the notion that a good deed is only a good deed if it’s a sacrifice.

Walking carefully up to the room with the mirror, Sunset paused when she heard voices.

She took a few quick steps forward, and like before, lurked outside the threshold and listened in. It was Headmaster Dumbledore, speaking in a calm voice.

“... However, this mirror gives us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.”

Sunset kept absolutely still.

“The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to live, remember that.”

With a few steps around a corner and a flash, Sunset was back in the girls’ dorm in Gryffindor tower, where she slipped back into bed.

She didn’t sleep however, she just stared up at the bed canopy, without seeing it.

<<... It is possible. I will do it.>>

—

A few days into the new year, the student body came back, and took away the soothing solitude of the girls’ dorm.

“Hi, Sunset!” Lavender Brown said, during the evening meal. “How was your holiday? Did you do anything fun?”

“We visited Lavender’s parents,” Parvati said. “Their house is huge! And Mrs Brown works at the ministry, so we could do magic around her.”

“So what did you do? Anything exciting?”

Sunset was just looking at them, a bit of sandwich in her mouth. She had learned that it was best to until they were both quiet for a few seconds before answering, so you could be reasonably sure that the duo was actually waiting for an answer.

“Oh, nothing much I guess. I… studied.”

Finishing the spell-books for the following year and getting well into the second year of potins, but she kept that to herself.

“Wow, that’s great,” Parvati said, in a thick voice. “Did you spend your holiday at Hermione’s?”

“No? Why, what did she do?”

“She studied.”

Sunset had to admit that she walked into that, and looked over at Hermione, her head together with Ron and Harry in a conspiratorial manner.

“They’ve gotten chummy, haven’t they?” Lavender Brown. “I wonder what they’re whispering about.”

“Mm, sports?” Sunset suggested. “Harry plays, right?”

“He’s the chaser!” Parvati said, a little indignantly. “You know, on our team?”

"Seeker," Lavender said, under her breath.

Sunset just stared at her, confused. “You drink him?”

“What?”

“... Nevermind.”

—

Walking towards the library, Sunset drew nearer to a loud cackling echoing through the hallways.

She rounded the corner to see Malfoy and his… whatever they were, Crabbe and Goyle, laughing loudly.

“Did you see him?” Malfoy said, which Sunset felt was a bit redundant, as she could tell they clearly had. “He looked like he was gonna cry!”

Crabbe and Goyle let out that particular guffaw of someone who has the opportunity to both laugh at something they find genuinely funny, and score points with their superiors by doing so.

Sunset had heard this before. She reckoned that there was a two third’s chance that it would soon turn slightly awkward as all three of them tried to milk the opportunity just a little too long.

That turned out to not be the case though, as Malfoy turned to see Sunset walking in their general direction, and immediately stopped laughing.

Crabbe and Goyle immediately followed his example, and waited for orders from a slightly pink Malfoy.

After a short moment of doing a sort of mix between clearing his throat, trembling, pulsating, and fidgeting, he signalled to his cronies to lean in, before whispering something to them and sending them away.

They marched off while casting slightly dismayed and nervous glances behind them.

Malfoy managed to look preoccupied for a moment despite not doing anything as Sunset walked past him, and then hurried to catch up to her.

“Good day, Sunset,” he said, trying to seem formal. “Did you have a good holiday?”

“Hello, and…” Sunset paused as she thought about what day it was that she had finally made contact with Celestia. “... Yes, I did. How about you?”

“Well, you know, it was ordinary. We had some relatives over, had a large dinner, and the rest of the time I could just relax while our servant made sure I was comfortable. It can be quite demanding, you know, being the heir to an important house such as ours.”

“Mmhm, I can imagine,” Sunset said, while internally rolling her eyes.

She had come across people who tried to impress her before. Little lords and ladies with noble titles waiting for them many years into the future, flaunting their families’ manners and values, who wanted Sunset to accompany them so they could flaunt their mansions as well. Or sports brutes who accompanied her in vain attempts to hold open doors or whatever in ways that showed off maximum amount of muscles.

It hadn’t been too bad though. She wasn’t old enough to get that sort of attention very long before Cadence showed up, and almost all attention was aimed at Ms Perfect Pink Pretty Princess and her pristine, polished, plump posterior.

A concoction of emotions inside Sunset tried to stir, but that had currently settled into an almost tar-like substance, and only rumbled.

Halfway out of Sunset’s throat, a growl died down to a sigh. Everyone’s eyes had been on Cadence, and… that was a good thing. Sunset didn’t need attention, she only needed herself, and her mind. Cadence had unwittingly been doing her a favor if anything.

“...lo? Sunset?”

Sunset almost jumped when she remembered where she was, and what she was. She looked at Draco’s worried and uncertain face, and realized that she was scowling ever so slightly, which was probably in many ways worse than a loud snarl and bared teeth.

She apologetically relaxed her expression, and glanced away. “Sorry, I was… miles away.”

A part of Sunset had caught a scent it knew it wanted more of, while other parts of her were wrestling the first part down, and firmly held Sunset’s face in both hands and told her that she had given that up. There was dignity and wisdom in detachment.

“That’s uh… that’s okay. So… what about it? I’ll be on the rightmost side of the Slytherin stands, and we can watch the match together?”

Dignity and wisdom. Prudence. Discipline. Worthiness. Authority. Strength. Self-sufficiency. Cunning. Mystique. Impressiveness.

“... Sure.”

Malfoy smiled, widely, and stepped back, his expression turning nervous. “Alright, great. I’ll… see you then,” he said, then turned around and hurried off.

Sunset was left standing in the corridor outside the library, not remembering why she was even there, and turned around and thumped her head hard against the stone wall.

<<... Stupid!>>

Author's Notes:

Brought to you by Raid: Shadow Legends

Well here it is. This is what I was trying to write on while working the most intense job I've ever had, which I'm guessing had been authorized to suspend at least a dozen workplace and labour regulations.

I'unno. I guess it was okay. For there to be stronger chapters, there has to be weaker ones, or maybe the constant stop-and-start of how I tried writing this wasn't doing it any favour, or... maybe I'm just running out of ideas. I hope it's not the latter one.

I still hope you enjoyed it.

And Now: Sports

There was a scent of nervousness in the air all over the school that grew stronger as the weeks went on. It was slowly sinking in for a lot of students how they had performed at the midterms, and that the finals were going to be even more demanding.

Especially around Harry, Ron, and Hermione there was an almost excited tinge to the scent, as they sat with their heads closely together over books from the library.

Sunset studied too, or tried to at least. Alone in the dorm, she lay with her first year spellbooks in a pile with her in bed, flipping through one of them only long enough to read the name of the spells, making them all activate with so-called silent magic by incanting them in her head and waving her wand.

“Light, colored light, sticking light, warmth, cold, levitation, magic tack, launching small objects…” Sunset took a deep breath as a hairband from Lavender’s nightstand bounced into the wall. “... Lock locks, unlock locks, ♪fold it up and put in socks, if your socks are full of rocks, take those out and put in box… es♫.

“... Eugh.”

Sunset let her hands fall down, as she stared listlessly into the wall.

There comes a point where studying the same thing over and over becomes too much, and Sunset tossed and turned in bed as she tried expressing her frustrations.

She glanced over at the clock to see that it was almost time for the afternoon meal. It was a good thing too, because if nothing else had distracted her, Sunset suspected she would’ve walked down to the lake and started melting the sand into glass just for the hay of it.

As usual, it was potions that were tripping her up, since it took so much time to practice. It’s not like she hadn’t gone through the entire first year of potions yet, but that was far behind where she was in other subjects.

So it was a good time that Percy was so busy these days, so she could get away with practising some.

Sunset paused as she started rising from the bed, wondering why she was thinking like a student who wanted high grades.

Sunset didn’t need grades. She didn’t value grades. She valued knowledge. Knowledge would lead her to her destiny. Grades were for impressing people who valued grades.

She walked down the stairs and out into the castle corridors in that particular disorientation of someone between events in life.

There were things to do of course. There were always things to learn, but right now, at this moment, she didn’t have the energy to learn more, but there was also no real entertainment to relax with.

She found herself sauntering into the classroom that had housed the mirror she had seen Celestia in, and found it empty.

“Miss Shimmer?” the voice of professor McGonagall rapped across her cochlear. “What are you doing here?”

Sunset turned around to see her head of house looking at her with a stern and slightly suspicious look.

“Oh, uh, there was a mirror here, but I forgot that Dumbledore said it was gonna be moved.”

One of McGonagall’s eyebrows raised up like a lioness poking up over the savannah grass.

“Uh, I mean, uhm… that’s what I heard,” Sunset said, trying to rally.

Sunset had an uncomfortable feeling that the eyebrow was going to pounce any second.

“I’ve just… been studying too hard,” Sunset said, slumping a little.

McGonagall’s expression slowly softened ever so slightly, and spoke in a much more casual tone.

“Your results on the transfiguration midterms were quite good, and likewise professor Flitwick and professor Snape gave you close to the highest score as you already know, so I… see no pressing concerns regarding your education.”

“So you’re saying perhaps I should relax a little?” Sunset asked.

McGonagall searched for words for a moment. “I rarely advise students not to study, but I hold that some variation can be good for you. Clears the mind.”

Sunset nodded to herself. Turning parts of the bank of the lake into glass might not be prudent, but she was itching to do something.

“You’re probably right,” Sunset said. “Thank you, professor.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and miss Shimmer,” McGonagall said, as she was about to move on. “It has been brought to my attention that you have had one small error, in every midterm, that has kept you from receiving a perfect score in every subject.”

“Ah, noticed that?” Sunset muttered, mostly to herself, and continued before McGonagall could interrupt. “Well, things might be perfect without flaws, but it’s not complete without them.”

Sunset turned around on her heel and marched away before McGonagall could ask her about that. Frankly, she actually had no idea what that meant, but she remembered something like that being said, long ago, when Celestia and Kibitz were talking about something.

Maybe McGonagall was right. Maybe Sunset needed to clear her mind a little.

She slipped into another unused classroom, and stared out across the landscape. The last of the snow had just thawed, although at this temperature, the soil would remain wet and muddy for a long time, especially with this drizzle that had been going on and off for two days.

During the holidays, she hadn’t needed to worry much about teleporting back and forth across the castle, or magicking things around in her dorm, but it was much riskier now when the castle was alive with activity again.

Still, just this once, Sunset felt like throwing caution to the wind… although it was best to do so somewhere else.

With a flash, she vanished, and reappeared on a hilltop far away. She turned around, and saw the now small castle in the distance.

With another flash, she appeared on another hilltop, this one bald, and completely obscured by the previous one.

She looked around, and saw a boring, inhospitable, and uninviting patch of grassy mud and soil, completely lacking in personality.

Sunset hopped in place for a moment, took a deep breath, and stretched her arms, legs, and every part of her body, before holding out her hands, throwing up a magical shield, and gathering her magic.

Tiny discharges of lightning zapped between her fingers, and her hair was buffeted by an ethereal wind, as the power gathered and grew, and grew, and grew.

…

The inhabitants of Hogsmeade, and both the faculty and student body of Hogwarts, looked up in curiosity and mild alarm, as they felt the ground softly quake, and a deep rumble rolled over them, before all became silent again.

…

Sunset stood still, and listened to the wonderful symphony of pebbles and tufts of grass raining down around her.

When almost all was quiet again, except for a slight hissing, she opened her eyes again, to observe her handiwork.

The crater in front of her was steaming as the rain and moisture in the soil slowly tried to spread to the dry, very warm, and partially melted hole in the ground.

“Aaaah… I needed that,” Sunset said, in Equestrian, as she took to slowly walking around the perimeter of her handiwork, as she absentmindedly waved a finger while deep in thought, catching the fine rain in a small orb, suspended in the air.

She had covered all the spells of the first and second year, and had been studying more of the same level besides. As stated before, potions was slower, especially since she was cross-referencing five different books on the subject, and dodging Percy, but she was still ahead of the class.

The key to immortality was with magic, Sunset was sure of it, but where in magic? Which field? At what level?

Celestia couldn’t turn Sunset into an alicorn. This all but established that there was no specific spell or such for it.

Sunset had to admit that if that was the case, there would probably have been a few by now, besides Cadence.

Somewhere, in the vast wilderness that was the study of magic, was the key to ascension. How does one find it where so many have failed?

Why, do better than everyone else, of course.

So if one was to find themselves looking for something very specific in a very vast area, how does one go about it?

Sunset twirled her fingers as she walked in a circle, staring out across the landscape, making two orbs of water orbit each other, before they stopped, and melded into one.

The water was smoothened out into a disk, and a small wave started spreading out from the center of it, in a widening spiral.

In this metaphorical wilderness of mysteries and study, a metaphorical search pattern was required.

Sunset stood still for a moment, before freezing the disk of water into ice, and dropping it on the ground, where it shattered into fragments.

She observed it for a moment, before nodding to herself, and vanished in a flash.

No one stopped her, as she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room and the girls’ dormitory.

Inside, she fished out the notebooks she had bought in the muggle store, and her spellbooks, and sat in her bed with them, and drew the curtains.

There, she started her handiwork of combining her books into one, and compressing the pages to make it thinner.

Waving her fingers, she started cutting up the muggle paper and adding the material to create wider margins.

Then, she started writing.

—

“Why is everyone so high strung?” Sunset asked Seamus during breakfast.

“‘Cause this is it! Gryffindor against Slytherin, and Harry caught the snitch the last game.”

Sunset looked over at Harry and saw that he was dressed in a different uniform, along with Fred, George, and a few others Sunset didn’t know.

Harry was slowly nibbling at a piece of toast while staring blankly ahead of him. The others in the team, Fred and George, three girls, and another boy, were faring only slightly better, actually managing to put food in their mouths while doing the same. The oldest boy was fidgeting while trying to wind himself up for an inspiring speech that never seemed to start.

“Oh that’s right,” Seamus said. “You missed the last game.”

Sunset squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. She had agreed to meet Malfoy during this game.

“I guess I did.”

The scent in the air didn’t do her composure any favors.

The team rose up and walked stiffly towards the doors.

“I guess it’s time to head out,” Seamus noted.

Sunset grabbed one piece of toast in each hand and one in her mouth, before joining the crowd that was milling out of the castle and down towards the great pitch in the grounds, with its tall stands and viewing platforms.

That quidditch took place in the air was something Sunset had figured out already, since flying broomsticks were involved.

She had actually flown during the spring’s flying lessons following the one where she ended up with a Longbottom on top of her.

It hadn’t been anything special. Sunset could already fly on her own with magic, and while the speed that some brooms could reach could’ve added some spice, the practice-brooms had been thoroughly ‘throttled’ to keep incidents like the one with Neville to a minimum. The brooms used for sport or quick transport were supposed to be quicker.

She noticed Neville walking next to her, slightly more uncomfortable than other times.

“What’s up?” she asked, finishing her second piece of bread.

“Oh, uh… nothing. Just… flying makes me nervous.”

“Ah, yeah, we’ve established that,” Sunset shrugged, making Neville blush. “But you’re not up in the air. What’s the problem?”

“Yeah but… Harry is.”

Sunset glanced at Neville as they walked into the wooden structure. “Yeah… I suppose he is,” she said, as she ascended the stairs.

Several floors worth of stairs later, Sunset found herself standing on a bench-covered platform, alternatingly decorated with the colors of the four houses.

She made her way through the milling crowd and was about to take a seat at the edge of the red and gold section, when a figure was suddenly standing next to her.

“There you are,” Draco Malfoy said, a slightly hard smile on his face. “Come on, let’s watch from over here.”

Sunset suppressed a sigh, and followed the rich boy, who smelled even more nervous than Neville, to where his two constant followers were standing behind them.

Sunset looked out over the field and saw the players on the ground, walking slowly towards each other, with Snape roughly in the middle.

“What’s Snape, or Professor Snape, doing out there?” Sunset asked.

“He’s the referee this time,” Malfoy said, grinning. “So Gryffindor doesn’t stand a…”

Malfoy cleared his throat, but Sunset wasn’t really paying attention. She was leaning against a support for the awning above.

The two team captains shook hands, and then the game started with the blow of a whistle.

The players flew into the sky and started dodging and weaving past each other, trying to get a large ball through the opposing team’s hoops, and dodging two smaller balls while two members from each team, Fred and George in the case of Gryffindor, tried to smack them at the opposing team members.

Sunset thought that was a little careless for humans, who it was clear were much more fragile than ponies, or herself in her current form.

Malfoy kept alternating between cheering for Slytherin, and glancing at Sunset nervously.

“So what’s Harry up to?” Sunset asked, noticing that Harry was just looking around the field.

“He’s trying to find the golden snitch... or so I hear,” Malfoy scoffed.

“And what’s that?”

Malfoy looked at Sunset. “The little golden ball with wings. You know, if you catch that you end the game? Don’t you know quidditch? You said you weren't a muggleborn,” he pointed out, with a little bit of worry and accusation.

“I’m not. I just haven’t paid attention to sports,” Sunset said, as Ron and Hermoine took their places in front of them on the stands, arguing about something under their breaths.

Sunset could feel the hostility radiating from Malfoy towards the two, while he glanced uncertainly at Sunset.

Spotting an opportunity to get out of this, or at least make it more pleasant, Sunset started gently waving her fingers, and started slipping from people’s perceptions.

Before long, Malfoy had stopped glancing at her, and was instead sneering at Ron and Hermoine behind their back. He pulled out his wand, and poked Ron in the back of his
head with it.

“Ouch!”

“Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’ see you there,” Malfoy said, and looked back at his cronies for confirmation that he was doing well.

“Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?”

Ron just gave Malfoy a look of contempt, and turned back to the game, where Snape was giving his brother a penalty.

Sunset sat down and simply looked at the game.

It wasn’t changing her mind on sports, but she had to admit that it was a nice change of pace to be surrounded by screaming teenagers who all exuded an uncomfortably intense smell of excitement.

It made her appreciate her alone time and researching even more.

A few minutes without a jab was obviously too much for Malfoy. “You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team? It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasley’s, who’ve got no money. You should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.”

In isolation, Sunset felt that was decent as far as insults go, for a young boy.

“I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” Neville stammered, trying and failing to look cross.

Sunset had to struggle to not bury her head in her hands, as the three Slytherins around her guffawed.

“You tell him, Neville,” Ron said, not looking away from the game

“Longbottom, if brains were gold, you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something

Ron turned around, and did a much better job than Neville at looking fierce.

“I’m warning you, Malfoy! One more word–”

Without taking her eyes off the game, Hermoine pulled at his shoulder. “Ron! Harry!”

“What? Where?”

Something exciting was apparently happening, since the crowd’s cheering reached a crescendo. Sunset spared the pitch some of her attention, and saw that Harry dove towards something, presumably the snitch.

Malfoy clenched his jaw as he saw Harry rapidly closing in on a Gryffindor victory, and squirmed in place as he glanced desperately around for a release for his frustrations.

“You’re in luck, Weasley,” he said, trying to not sound hurt and desperate. “Potter’s obviously spotted some money on the ground!”

Ron didn’t even spare Malfoy a warning look before he jumped over his seat and pounced Malfoy to the ground.

Crabbe and Goyle looked on in confusion for several seconds before they reached for Ron, only to be stopped by a desperately furious Neville tackling them back, to moderate effect, resulting in two rapidly squirming piles of fists, grunting, and screaming.

Sunset sighed, but logged this event in her brain for some future analysis, should she ever get more interested in studying social interactions.

The rest of the crowd didn’t notice, as they were too focused on the game. Hermione was jumping up and down with the rest of their classmates, when the already intense cheering erupted to maximum capacity.

Harry was cruising around the pitch from the lingering velocity of his dive, his arm raised in triumph.

Seamus and Dean were screaming into the air at the top of their lungs like a pair of sea lions, while Hermoine was jumping up and down and shrieking together with Parvati Patil.

“Ron! Ron! Where are you!? The game’s over! Harry’s won! We’ve won! Gryffindor are in the lead!” she shouted.

By now, the Gryffindors were storming down the platform towards the pitch, and Sunset looked over to see that the double scuffle had developed at an alarming rate.

Ron’s nose was lightly bleeding, while a whimpering Malfoy was trying desperately to fend him off so he could nurse his black eye.

Crabbe and Goyle looked up in confusion at the sudden shift in atmosphere, an unconscious Neville underneath them.

Without realizing, or perhaps not caring, what had just happened, Hermoine grabbed Ron and pulled him down with her towards the pitch, quickly followed by the almost as enthusiastic Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

Crabbe and Goyle looked up in surprise as Sunset dropped her illusions around her right in front of them, and they quickly backed away when she stepped up towards Neville.

“Well, you sure showed him,” she said, drawing attention to the enormous difference in mass between the two ape-like figures, and the one all-but-scary looking Neville.

Malfoy looked angry and humiliated from his beating, and only seemed more confused and worried when Sunset slipped back into his senses, and realized she had seen and heard everything.

This was one of the many reasons Sunset didn’t want to get involved with others- it kept putting her in situations where she didn’t know what to say or do. She decided to fall back to just doing what seemed rationally most important right now, with a dispassionate demeanor.

“Well, I’ll see you boys later,” she said, as she gently picked up Neville and draped his unconscious form over her back, before descending the stairs, roomy now that everyone had hurried down them, and exited towards the castle.

Despite the unconscious boy on her back, this was probably the best time of Sunset’s day so far. The noise about things she didn’t care about was bad enough, but staying calm with all those scents and smells of excitement was really taxing, and now she was finally away from it, the castle being practically empty except for a few ghosts looking at her curiously.

Of course, there was also Madam Pomfrey.

“Miss Shimmer! What is the meaning of this!?”

“Calm down. You shouting makes me not want to go here,” Sunset muttered.

Author's Notes:

Another chapter. Sorry it's so short. I've been feeling a little out of it lately, very unenthusiastic in general, and I'm not sure how what to do about it.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this, and... I almost wrote that you should like, comment, and subscribe, which makes me reflect on the nature of propaganda.

When The Sun Sets

Sunset Shimmer was feeling very above it all when it came to life as a first year at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, not weighed down by the same concerns as the witches and wizards in training she was sharing classes and dorms with.

All around her at the dining hall table, students had their noses deep in books and notes, rolls of paper and bags with even more books in them.

Being above it all was good, because if she wasn’t, she would’ve started feeling very isolated by now.

She chomped down on another piece of toast before emptying her glass and refilling it, then emptying it once again. The orange juice was especially good this morning.

“Uuuuurgh!” Ron moaned loudly, as he let his book drop to the table, making the others around him look at him in annoyance.

But it was futile. Ron’s temporary surrender triggered the same reaction in everyone, and everyone gingerly put their books back into their bags and rested their chins in their hands. Even Hermione put her books down, though without the same exhausted expression.

“Don’t you need to study?” Harry asked Sunset, with just a hint of accusation.

“I’m memorizing,” she lied, and tapped the side of her head. “Can’t read all the time. You have to process it too.”

“That sounds good,” Seamus said, and grabbed a fistful of bacon.

In truth, Sunset was trying to deal with a problem that the school didn’t teach her to solve, and that was what she was going to do in less than three months.

“Where do you people live?” she asked the table in general.

Ron raised an eyebrow in her direction. “What do you mean?”

“Where do you live when you’re not attending Hogwarts?” Sunset asked.

“With my family?” he suggested.

“And where is that?” Sunset asked, with overdone patience.

Running out of way to deflect the question, Ron grunted slightly. “Devon,” he said, and noticed the expectant silence, and not just from Sunset. “My family has a house out in the country. Mind you, most wizard families live out in the country.”

“Country, eh?” Sunset said, to herself. “Like a manor?”

Ron looked offended for a moment, before noticing how genuine Sunset’s expression was. “Hrm, hardly. It’s a cottage we’ve built five more cottages on top of, and an attic. Thought you could ask your friend Malfoy that.”

Sunset wasn’t paying attention to the accusation in Ron’s voice, and caught him off-guard when she nodded in approval. “A tower, then? I’ve always said you can’t be a proper wizard without a tower.”

Unnoticed by Sunset, a look of surprised satisfaction slowly grew across Ron’s face.

The attention shifted clockwise towards Hermoine, who simply said, “We live just outside London, and we don’t have any towers, but then again, my parents are muggles.”

“But do you have any turrets?”

“Uhm, well, yeah... one,” she admitted.

“That counts, in a pinch.”

“Why? Do you live in a place with a bunch of towers?” Ron asked.

“There were a few around,” Sunset said.

Which was true in a sense, Canterlot Castle, and the city as a whole, largely consisted of towers- square, round, thick, thin, tall, and taller.

“That makes sense when you think of the muggles I live with, they hate magic, and there are no turrets in their house,” Harry said, and turned to Ron and Hermione and mumbled, “I’d like to know if living in a tower would make my cousin healthier or just always tired.”

Sunset remembered Harry mentioning that before, but hadn’t felt comfortable pressing him on the subject. “Why do they hate magic?”

“They hate anything that isn’t normal. Normal to them that is. They want to seem as normal as possible.”

“Yeah? Where does one live to seem as normal as possible?”

“A suburb in Surrey.”

Sunset was mentally cataloging all the options for residence as her classmates listed off where they lived. Neville, as Sunset pretty much knew already, lived with his grandmother in an old wizarding house, though not an overly distinguished one, as old wizarding houses were quite common. Lavender and Parvati similarly lived in not-quite-as-old wizarding houses, Seamus lived in a muggle village in Ireland, and Dean in Manchester.

“Well, what about you?” Ron asked.

“Oh, London,” Sunset said, airily, being the closest to the truth with her having lived there for a few days.

Not that she was worried about it, but Sunset still had to solve the problem of being, frankly, homeless.

There were many solutions though. For example, with a little work, she could compress soil and do some magical chemistry to create an underground house just about anywhere, but something told her that the best approach was to try and live as normal as possible during the summer.

When breakfast was over, they made their way to Flitwick's classroom, and all of Sunset’s classmates, except Hermoine, were becoming so spent from all the studying in general, that they struggled with basic housekeeping spells.

This obviously followed a pattern that Flitwick was used to, because he patiently kept trying to jam the information into the overstuffed brains of the students.

“Come now, keep stirring,” he said, as the class, chins in hands and eyes drooping, waved their wands to manipulate a dozen rags to clean the blackboard. “Weasley, Finnigan, you’re trying to move the same rag.”

Ron and Seamus jolted to attention, making the rag in question tear in two.

And so it went, the days rolled on sluggishly, on from the winter and its cozy snow, and firmly into the season of rain and grey skies. Regions where the weather is left unattended could result in some long and mediocre springs, and that was definitely the case here.

Sunset had adjusted the spells she coated her clothes in accordingly to account for the moisture in the air, so that she stayed warm and dry, but she still missed living in a place with a dedicated weather team keeping things tidy so she didn’t have to teleport out to catch some rays the few times she could.

It sounds like you are keeping busy, but how do you actually feel?

While everyone else was down in the common room or library, studying, Sunset was sitting in her bed with her book propped up against her knees.

She poked her lower lip with her pen.

Fine, I guess, but also

I don’t know. Not fine.

Because fine is not good enough?

Sunset’s mouth fell open slightly from that, before sighing and slumping a little.

Even when on another plane of existence, Celestia could, appropriately enough, read her like a book.

No.

You’ve always wanted so very much, Sunset. That’s one of the things that makes you you.

Sunset almost shied away from the text, even though she could feel the gentleness of Celestia’s tone through her words.

That sounds

I don’t know

it sounds bad. It sounds like a flaw.

It can be, but so can most traits. The loyal and the generous can dedicate themselves to unworthy causes, the honest can be cruel, the kind can be smothering. You know this.

And what about me?

We must all be vigilant against that which prevents us from turning into our better selves, whether from without, or within. When one has powers such as yours, one must be more sagacious than most, my little Sunset.

Sunset considered the conflicts in school she had managed to stay out of.

I think I’m doing well enough. Some of the students here really dislike each other. I’ve stayed out of it.

That is good, but remember that so many words of wisdom conflict for a reason. Words of peace might lose their meaning when swords are drawn, but few have been saved by apathy.

Sunset rolled over in frustration, and lay her book in front of her, and scribbled in lazy frustration.

I wish I could just get it over with.

Celestia seemed almost amused.

No you don’t. You like challenges.

Yeah I do, but

Sunset paused, and looked up into the bed canopy, searching for words.

You wish you could know if you’ll succeed, when all is said and done.

Yes

So do we all, but the future cannot be truly known. What we can do is hone our wisdom and skill, and use it the best way possible, and that is true for everything. From the smallest task to when the fate of the world rests on your withers.

Sunset knew what Celestia was talking about. In her extensive research, she had found hints of a great darkness coming to Equestria, which Celestia had defeated once before, but never spoken to anyone about.

Sunset knew that if she became an alicorn, she’d have to face this darkness as well.

She didn’t have her research notes, but her best estimates gave them around 307 years before the darkness returned.

And now, I have a great test for you, Sunset. One I am not sure you will appreciate.

This piqued her interest. What test could Celestia have for her when she was on another plane of existence?

Alright? What is it

The book was still for several moments, before it finally reacted.

I have a new student.

Sunset’s mind… went blank.

Celestia could take on another student if she wished. Of course Celestia would take on another student, but that didn’t mean that she was throwing Sunset away. But it did mean that she was throwing Sunset away. Celestia was betraying her. But she had already thrown Sunset away in favor of that pink, girly monster. But she hadn’t- Celestia had said that she loved Sunset. Celestia saying that she loved Sunset conveniently placated her, it was a distraction, a way of shutting her up. Sunset didn’t care. Sunset was furious. Sunset was disappointed. Sunset would weather this with dignity. Sunset would prove her sagaciousness by being understanding. Sunset could take care of herself. Sunset would slam the book shut and never open it again. Sunset would say that she understood and never contact Celestia again in the vain hope that she could somehow make her pain known.

Sunset felt all these options rush through her head all at once.

Sunset… was surprised by how none of them seemed to stick..

I see.

The book was still with apprehension for several moments.

Sunset? Are you still there?

Yes.

Are you angry with me? I understand if you are.

...

I don’t know.

Do you want to keep talking?

Sunset had to pause again before she could continue.

I don’t know that either.

If you don’t, I just want to say that this does not mean that I don’t love you, and it does not mean that I have given up on you, or that you are less deserving in any way, it simply means that I ran across another unicorn filly with great talent.

I know that.

Yes, but I want you to know that with your heart, not just your head.

Sunset struggled to keep her composure. Not outwardly, that was easy, but internally.

That can take much longer, I know.

And I know how frustrating it is to be probed about one’s feelings before coming to terms with them.

Sunset’s eyebrows knitted together slightly.

You don’t say?

What I am saying is that I understand if you would rather talk another time.

Sunset’s scoffed.

That sounds like a challenge.

I am just trying to be understanding, Sunset.

You’re also really irritating when you do this.

I know, and I am sorry.

Sunset’s expression eased, and she let out a sigh.

Yes. I would rather talk another time.

Take care, my little Sunset.

Sunset’s pen hovered over the page for a moment, before she decided to just close the book.

She stood up, and walked out of the dorm, doing her best to not draw attention to herself as she crossed the common room and walked out into the castle corridors. She wanted to try and clear her head with a walk, not talk with anyone.

When she was alone with her thoughts, her gait slowed down into a frustrated saunter.

A part of Sunset told her that Celestia had the right to take on new students. To hold that against her was stupid.

Another part told her that Celestia should’ve just left her at the orphanage if she was going to toss her aside that freely- she would’ve been better off on her own.

A middle part between those two suggested that what Sunset really wanted was just for Celestia to acknowledge that this would hurt Sunset’s feelings.

The angry part of Sunset sneered at that, saying that if she wanted to spare Sunset’s feelings, she shouldn’t have gotten a new student. Better yet, she shouldn’t have held Sunset back like she did.

But Celestia did acknowledge that Sunset would be hurt. Besides, it was Sunset who left.

Which just meant that Celestia knew that what she did would hurt Sunset, yet she did it anyway. It was also Celestia who took Sunset under her wing, making her emotionally dependent on her, which was why she was hurt.

The cold part of Sunset scoffed, and meant that it made no sense to both be sad about Celestia’s decision and feel that they would’ve been better off without ever having known her in the first place. Celestia hadn’t done anything wrong.

Which was all grand and noble, but didn’t stop it from hurting.

Sunset slumped with her shoulder against a wall, frustrated with herself, and wishing she could just get this over with already.

“Sunset?”

Sunset turned around to see Neville standing behind her, fidgeting.

“Hey, Neville”, she sighed. “What’s up?”

“Well, uhm, Madam Pomfrey said that you helped me up to the medical wing and I, uh, thought I should say thank you and then I… well uh… noticed you looking… sad.”

Sunset nodded along with Neville's stuttering presentation, and let out a bitter half-laugh.

“I guess,” she said, hanging her head slightly, and slumping back against the wall. “It’s stupid.”

“Why?”

Sunset raised her head again, and looked up into Neville’s round face, full of genuine concern.

“It just…”

But that was as far as she got before she had to stop and think about why it was stupid.

“I… it’s just not… it’s… I’m… I’m just jealous.”

Now it was Neville’s turn to struggle for words.

“Y-you? Wh… why would you be jealous?”

Sunset looked up at Neville, somehow not seeing that question coming, before laughing and shaking her head. “Yeah… why would I?” she asked herself.

Sunset had been so lost in thought, so uninterested in the world around her, that she managed to miss the smell of Argus Filch creeping up on them, and putting one hand on each of their shoulders and spinning them around, with some difficulty in Sunset's case, to face him, making Neville jump in alarm.

“What’re you two whisperin’ about then, eh?” he sneered.

But this time Sunset was not in the mood. She placed her hand on Neville’s shoulder, and used her frustrations and anger as a focus.

She scowled at him, locking eyes with him, and like the other times, she slipped out of his focus, and this time she took Neville with him.

Neville’s scared expression gradually made way to worry and uncertainty, as Filch demeanor changed from threatening, to unfocused but angry, to confused and annoyed, and finally to disoriented. He wordlessly let go of them, and slowly backed away, almost stumbling as he sauntered off, ignoring them completely.

Neville’s eyes followed him with worry and disbelief, before he turned to Sunset.

“What was that all about?”

She shrugged, casually. “Maybe he’s been drinking.”

That made sense to Neville, who nodded sagely.

“I’m hungry,” he said. “Are you?”

“... Yeah.”

When at the Gryffindor table, Sunset was resting her cheek on her fist while nibbling on a piece of toast.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Neville ventured.

“No,” Sunset mumbled. “And I’m guessing you don’t actually wanna hear about it.”

Neville was quiet for a few more moments before speaking again. “Maybe you should write home?”

“I did write home.”

Neville immediately opened his mouth, but closed it again, understanding, at least a little more.

After a moment of uncertainty, Neville carefully said, “you… said your parents were gone, right?”

That got Sunset curious, and she lazily yanked her head in Neville’s direction, who recoiled a little until he noticed her expression.

“When did I say that?” she asked.

“In the… in Diagon Alley,” he said. “You know, when you were talking to my grandmother.”

Sunset thought back to that interesting time when she had just arrived in this world. “Oh yeah… I probably did.”

“So… who did you write to?”

Sunset didn’t smile, but something about this conversation at least wiped away some of the melancholy from her face.

“My teacher.”

Neville’s eyes did that search pattern thing that people sometimes do when processing new information. “Oh. So that’s why you’re so good at magic?”

Sunset shrugged and mumbled something non-committal.

Neville smiled in amusement, and Sunset realized that this was probably the first time she had ever seen him do so.

“But you are,” he insisted. “You’re probably even better than Hermoine.”

“Allow me some modesty,” Sunset said. “But… yes, she taught me magic, among other things. At least the magic I didn’t teach myself.”

“... Did you have a row?”

Sunset stared at the table for a few minutes, idly brushing off some crumbs down onto the floor.

“... Yeah.”

“And that’s why you’re sad?”

“Who says I’m sad?”

“Well, uhm… you’re… crying.”

This made Sunset look up. She brought a finger up to feel a wet stream on her cheek.

“Oh, great, have I been doing that for long?” Sunset muttered, and lazily grabbed a napkin and roughly wiped her face in it.

“Uh, no.”

Sunset looked up at the enchanted ceiling, a part of her curious why they magiced it to display the sky above instead of just making it transparent, before letting out a long sigh.

Neville was a scaredy cat, but something made him sit there and gently try and understand an aloof girl like herself, the demographic with possibly the highest chance of them all to abuse his concern, taking it and throwing it back into his face for some kind of twisted self-satisfaction.

She had to admire his guts at least.

“She wasn’t just my teacher, she was my mentor, my only real friend, and the closest thing I had to a parent, and now she has another student.”

Neville opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Sunset looked at him curiously, to see if he had more questions, but he just looked away. It seemed like his mouth would stay closed this time.

At least the conversation was distracting.

“And you lived with your grandmother, and you were shopping with her as well. Same deal as with Harry?” Sunset asked.

“No-yeah-uhm… well, no.”

He looked up at Sunset’s curious face, and she realized that this was not a happy topic.

“They… can’t take care of me,” he finally said, reluctantly.

Sunset turned back to her food. This would have to be enough on this topic for now.

“Hey,” she eventually said. “I’ve found some good spots to practice potions where no one notices. Wanna practice with me some time?”

A smile tugged at Neville’s mouth. “S-sure.”

—

Sunset entered the first year girls’ dormitory in Gryffindor tower again, and sat down on the bed, placing her book in her lap again.

She didn’t know whether she wanted Celestia to respond right away, or some other time, but she decided to write anyway.

What’s her name?

To her trepidation, the book lit up just seconds later.

Her name is Twilight.

Twilight Sparkle.

Tell me about her.

Author's Notes:

Another short chapter. I have to say that I'm struggling a bit here. I've said before that I want Sunset to be isolated from Harry & Friends' story until it has time to kick off because there's going to be an irreconcilable conflict in storytelling if she's with them- she's too powerful, she's gonna stop the story from happening if she's where the action is.

This all means that there's gonna be long parts where she "has nothing to do" so I have to make stuff up for her, and there's surprisingly little to be had in the early books that's not revolving around Harry & Friends uncovering Voldemort's plots.

You know the production triangle? Where there's Time, Quality, and Cost, and you can't have all 3? In the case of this story, there's Time, Entertainment, and Story-Consistency. I can write something that's entertaining and which has no real plot holes, but that's gonna take time, or I can write something fast that has short-term entertainment value, but it's going to be real hard to avoid writing myself into a hole when doing it like that, etc.

This is all a little discouraging, because it was all so much easier early on in the story, where there's so much worldbuilding to work with that's not in close orbit to Harry's story. The first book loses all peripheral vision in the later parts. Except for Hagrid's subplot, it's all Snape and Voldemort all the time. Hopefully there's more to work with in later books.

I can see why so many people write smut on this site. Just have some characters bump uglies and you're fulfilling the primary goal of the story.

Totally forgot to give Snuffy cred for pre-reading this chapter, so I'm gonna say it twice. Snuffy helped. His name is Snuffy.

Dark Whispers

It was a testament to the consistency of Sunset Shimmer’s character that she hadn’t yet registered how often she was staring out into space while nibbling at her breakfast, deep in thought, while people were trying to get her attention.

“Miss Shimmer?”

So Celestia had a new student?

One of the many things Sunset felt about that was a sort of dignified indignation. She was Sunset Shimmer. She didn’t need anypony else. Orphaned, cast out, impoverished, and with no social network, she was still the most capable, skilled, dangerous, and mysterious wiza- witch in this school. Hay, let’s not be modest, possibly this entire world. She would laugh in the face of any hardships the universe threw at her.

“Miss Shimmer.”

She did feel a little phony though, considering she had been so eager to make up with Celestia the day before.

But it would make it all the sweeter when she finally became an immortal alicorn and–

“Miss Shimmer!”

Sunset jumped in her seat, and looked up at the face of the impatient-looking Professor McGonagall.

“... Yes, professor?”

McGonagall had a talented face, which managed to look very ordinary and impatient at the same time. “Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you in his office.”

“Got it.”

There was a moment of silence as every eye around her was aimed directly at her.

“... Oh, now?”

“Yes, Miss Shimmer.”

“Fine, fine,” she said, and reached for her mugs. Trolls. Professors. There were a lot of interrupted meals around this place.

Sunset first emptied her coffee, then tea, then juice, in one movement each, then grabbed her sandwiches and stood up, and walked after McGonagall. Her classmates were still staring at her, so she made sure her robe swished just right.

As they walked, Sunset kept chewing on her bread. Judging by how fresh it was, it was either produced in the castle, or very close to it, and by people who knew what they were doing. Sunset didn’t want to engage in tribal stereotypes, even flattering ones, but it made her think of Equestria. Every restaurant, noble kitchen, and eatery in Canterlot wanted at least one earth pony present. For luck.

It made her consider perhaps looking into cooking herself. An alicorn embodied the strength and abilities of all the pony tribes, although Sunset felt that Cadence was sorely lacking in her unicorn-ness. Perhaps somehow trying to understand all of them, knowing what it truly meant to be one of all of the tribes, could be part of the road to ascension.

Minerva McGonagall glanced back at the young student walking so calmly and carefree behind her.

Not that she’d ever suggest that there was anything wrong with that, but… Professor McGonagall had been a teacher for a long time now, and learned her trade several decades ago. It didn’t sit perfectly right with her that a student, a first year student no less, could be led to see the headmaster, and not show the least bit of apprehension. Especially when that headmaster was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Right now she would’ve settled for Sunset putting effort into looking calm, and not chewing on a sandwich while idly lolling her head and staring out the windows, clearly in a world of her own.

They came to the Gargoyle guarding the stairs up to the headmaster’s office, which seemed to snap Sunset back to reality.

“Oh right, why were we here again?” Sunset asked.

“Chocolate chip ice-cream,” McGonagall said, in order to allow her passage.

“Hm? Oh, no thank you. I just ate,” Sunset said.

Minerva kept her head aimed straight ahead, to hide her strained expression from her student, until there was enough room for her to ascend the stairs.

Sunset followed McGonagall as she walked up to the door and knocked, whereupon it was opened by a bit of rare, wandless magic from Headmaster Dumbledore.

“Ah, Minerva, and Miss Shimmer, do come in” he said, from behind his desk, and waved his wand to summon a pair of comfortable chairs. “Please, sit down.”

“Thank you,” Sunset said, matching Dumbledore in playful politeness, as they took their seats.

Sunset was starting to suspect that she was visiting this office more often than many of the faculty. It was a good office. It had a large fireplace, and the walls were lined with richly dark wooden shelves and tables, upon which rested grimoires and arcane instruments aplenty. As a fellow wizard, or witch, Sunset approved. It could’ve done with some more cushions and armchairs though.

Also there were the portraits who kept staring at them. Sunset felt they were inferior to stained glass windows depicting great triumphs.

“Now then, Miss Shimmer, I have some questions I would like to ask you,” Dumbledore said.

Normally, Sunset would’ve been a bit apprehensive in this situation. She hadn’t warmed up to the idea of revealing anything about herself, about actually being a unicorn from another plane of existence on a quest for power and ascension into a higher, supreme being. Not to mention that the country’s most prominent wizard, who had seen more concerning her unique situation and abilities than anyone else except possibly for Garrick Ollivander, was sitting in front of her and being coy about wanting to ask questions.

Sunset figured she must’ve just happened to have had a superior night’s sleep, and woken up on the right side of the bed, because she nodded calmly. “Ask away.”

“It concerns your living arrangements for the summer.”

In her head, Sunset turned towards the camera and gave it a smarmy grin.

“Sure. What about them?”

“Am I to understand that you have no one providing you with a home, or means to support yourself, when school ends?” Dumbledore asked, some of the playfulness leaving his demeanor.

“Ah, see, strictly speaking the answer is negative,” Sunset said. “In the spirit of what you’re asking, however, you are technically correct, but no worries. I’ll be fine.”

The two teachers were silent for a moment.

A part of Minerva McGonagall, which she did her best to suppress most of the time, was glad she hadn’t scolded Sunset for whatever reason that morning. Despite herself, she did worry for her students.

“Miss Shimmer,” she started, managing to sound certain but not feeling it. “This matter can not be ignored.”

Sunset lolled her head as she thought. “Hmm… I’m not sure about that but… if we don’t?”

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. “Perhaps it’s time that you told us more about yourself, and where you came from. <<Canterlot>>, was it?”

Sunset stiffened up, but did her best not to show it. “You remembered,” she noted, impressed. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured out more yet, no offense.”

And she was surprised. There had been a very slight nagging feeling in the back of her mind that Ollivander would tell others about her being a unicorn, but then again she didn’t know what Ollivander and Dumbledore’s relation was, if they had any. Perhaps they were unfriendly rivals. Or perhaps Ollivander had understood that Sunset wanted to keep her secrets, and had not shared them.

Dumbledore smiled. “None taken, of course, but the issue remains. Are you certain there is no place for you between semesters?”

Sunset shook her head as she prepared herself for that peculiar game of honesty and omission. “I can’t go back where I came from when I got here, but I can make my way alright.”

“I’m afraid I must object to that approach,” Dumbledore said. “I would also like to know how you came to be here. Your method of travel puzzled me, to say the least.”

Sunset was silent for a moment, looking out at the blue sky as she thought. “... I walked through a magic mirror, and then I woke up in the hospital wing.”

“May I ask why?”

Sunset and Celestia’s relationship was on the mend, but this still wasn’t a happy topic, especially to talk with others about. “... I saw something in the mirror that I wanted to come true.”

“Which was?”

Sunset chewed lightly on her tongue before answering. “... I’ll be keeping that to myself.”

McGonagall struggled to not seem exasperated. “Miss Shimmer, we are your teachers. You can trust us.”

Sunset had so many responses to that, like telling them their assistance was starting to feel very intrusive, that it wasn’t welcome, and asking if the same applied to Snape.

“That’s very kind of you,” she said, politely. “But it’s not very interesting.”

“Oh I disagree, Miss Shimmer,” Dumbledore said. “But if you do not wish to continue pursuing this topic, we shall not force it. However, this still leaves your time during the summer. If you have no alternative, I recommend we look for a suitable foster family.”

Sunset groaned on the inside. This was a kindness she didn’t need. She opened her mouth a few times, trying to seem flippant.

“You will require a legal guardian, Miss Shimmer,” McGonagall noted.

Sunset paused. “... Wait… what about wizards who have muggle legal guardians? They can’t be expected to enforce magical laws around their charges.”

The two teachers exchanged a look, before Dumbledore spoke. “In the case of muggle guardians, the underage witch or wizard will primarily be monitored by the Ministry of Magic, guided by the judgement of the remote monitoring agents.”

Sunset’s eyes shifted sideways as she considered this. “That… sounds wildly unfair.”

“... I’ll leave my own thoughts on this matter unvoiced,” Dumbledore admitted.

Sunset felt that this conversation had too many pauses for emphasis, but another one was called for at this moment. “... So that means that when you say I require a legal guardian, you mean that your personal values and conscience want me to have a safety network in terms of emotional support and economic safety, not that the state apparatus demands that I have one in terms of accountability.”

Dumbledore sat still for several moments, and McGonagall’s mouth even fell open slightly, making Sunset worried she had had pushed too far, and seemed too alien to them. She relaxed her posture, smiling in an ever so slightly meek manner. “If you’re worried that there’s going to be a bunch of reports of me breaking magic laws if left to my own devices, don’t worry. There won’t be.”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “I could believe that, Miss Shimmer, but as you alluded, there is also the ethical matter of leaving a minor without means.”

“And I can’t assure you in any way?” Sunset gently probed.

There was a moment of silence, before Dumbledore picked up a small metal tube from the desk and opened it. Inside was a slip of paper. “We would all feel better if you at least took this. Write a message on this paper, and burn it, and it will reach me,” he said, before placing the tube on the other side of the desk.

Sunset thought that felt fair. She took the tube, fully intending to check for monitoring spells later on. “Alright. That’s very kind. Thank you.”

“And please don’t be afraid to use it. We can give you more.”

“Got it.” Sunset drummed her fingers on her knees. “So… was there anything else?”

Dumbledore gave Sunset a kind smile. “Nothing more for now, Miss Shimmer,” he said, before holding out a bowl of white and red sweets. “Mint candy?”

“Please,” Sunset said, taking a piece, and noticed something she was surprised she had missed until now. Perched above a wide brass bowl was a phoenix, looking at them with a dignified bearing.

Sunset walked over to the male phoenix and, blocking the view from the teachers, lit a small flame at the tip of her finger, and held it out in front of the fiery bird. “Hello there. I’ve somehow managed to miss you the last times I was here. What’s your name?”

The bright red bird’s bearing became a lot more playful, and he trilled melodically as he gently rubbed his neck and cheeks against the finger, enjoying the feeling of the flame licking his plumage. The suggestion of fire-based communication meshed with Dumbledore having a phoenix companion.

Before Dumbledore could supply the name, Sunset responded to the bird’s trill. “Fawkes? That’s a pretty name. I should get going, but next time I’ll try to remember to bring some treats. Let me guess; cod? Extra extra well done?”

Fawkes trilled happily and puffed his plumage in anticipation, before Sunset walked towards the door, and McGonagall walked up to her.

“Miss Shimmer, I strongly urge you to reconsider.”

Sunset sighed and tried to keep from shuffling her feet, before looking up at McGonagall with an apologetic face, and holding up the tube she got from Dumbledore. “I’ll keep it in mind, okay?”

McGonagall nodded in defeat, but Sunset stopped in the doorway and looked back. “By the way, thank you,” she said, and gestured to their surroundings in particular. “For everything.”

“Think nothing of it, Miss Shimmer,” Dumbledore said, and actually smiled, making Sunset feel a lot better before she descended the stairs again, thinking that perhaps she had misjudged McGonagall.

McGonagall closed the door, and turned to her headmaster.

“Albus, please. We must do something.”

“We cannot force her into a foster family,” Dumbledore said in a calm voice. “We both know the Wizengamot inheritance law.”

“A misguided law made by old fools to protect estates from imagined usurpers,” Minerva insisted. “A muggle foster family then.”

“She can deny that too, and I think she knows it. I’m not willing to go very far attempting to deceive someone like her, nor placing her in a muggle family with too much resentment in her heart.”

Minerva said nothing.

“I think we have done all we can for now,” Dumbledore continued, and shook his head as he sank into his chair, deep in thought. “Sunset Shimmer is no ordinary eleven year old.”

“That much is obvious,” Minerva almost barked as she looked at the door Sunset had exited through, impatient with the world in general, before she turned to Dumbledore, registering his silence. “Albus?”

He was staring straight ahead, his fingers steepled, for several moments before he turned to his deputy headmistress. “What do you think of her?”

“What do I…? Well, she… is quite capable in class, very capable in fact, though she doesn’t try to show it. I wouldn’t call her modest though- even around teachers she is blunt and aloof, almost impertinent.” Minerva paused, and sighed to herself. “But she is kind, in a certain way. Despite her demeanor, Mister Longbottom has benefitted from her instructions.”

“Good.”

Minerva gave Dumbledore a questioning look.

“Her kind side seems genuine, and she has little interest in manipulation or coercion,” Dumbledore explained.

Minerva’s eyes widened in shock. “Albus! You cannot mean to compare her to… to him!” She almost spat the last words out.

“I have met two others in my life who have shown extraordinary ability so young, would a third be so strange?”

Minerva glanced back at the door. “I see a troubled young girl when I see Sunset Shimmer. I don’t believe I’m looking at a monster.”

“He wasn’t a monster in his teachers’ eyes either, but then they did not possess your judgement of character,” Dumbledore offered kindly. “Nor Hagrid’s,” he added, thoughtfully.

Minerva coughed slightly impatiently. This wasn’t the time, nor was it ever time she felt, to be taken by compliments. “But something still worries you,” she noted.

Dumbledore nodded. “Unless I’m losing my touch, something tells me that Sunset Shimmer is hiding something very profound.”

Fawkes landed on the backrest of Dumbledore’s chair, and he reached up to scratch his beloved phoenix’s feathers around the neck. “Like how she knew your name.” Dumbledore suddenly felt the heat lingering around Fawkes’ neck, and his mouth opened slightly. “And how she did this.”

—

The talk with Dumbledore and McGonagall had left Sunset with a lingering feeling of discomfort.

And it wasn’t just that either. The scent of nervousness was everywhere, except possibly around Fred and George, creating what felt like a miasma of unease, and Sunset kept picking it up as if it was something insidious.

Everyone except Hermione had underestimated just how much studying this school required of them. Hermione studied feverishly at all times regardless, and she appeared to have infected Harry and Ron as well. Everyone was always bent over a book, mumbling to themselves and staring with tired intensity at the pages, but those three were tense as thestrals at a dog whistle testing facility.

Whenever she let her guard down, Sunset felt herself gradually being pulled along and almost caring about grades and teachers’ approval.

It was most unpleasant. She stopped whenever she realized what was happening. It was also a welcome reprieve whenever she could read what Celestia had written to her, it was just that in this general situation, there was just so little going on, she felt she had nothing to share.

“Pheeew! What is that smell?” she asked one morning, as she descended from the dorms into the common room, along with the trickle of students heading down to the great hall.

She looked at the source, a sickly-looking Ron who self-consciously hid his hand inside his robes. Flitwick later threw him skeptical looks throughout the class, which was no wonder considering Ron’s hand was green, swollen, and looked very painful. It also smelled like intentionally funky cheese that had gone off.

By the afternoon, Harry and Hermione had taken a stumbling and feverish Ron to the hospital wing before coming back to the common room. They didn’t study though, and Sunset did indeed think they looked like they needed a break. They just sat alone and sometimes whispered short phrases to each other that were incomprehensible without the context.

Sunset turned back to her journal, as she lounged with her legs over one of the armrests, and her back against the other one.

And so he’s in the hospital wing.
By the way, how is Philomena doing?

You said the healer was quite skilled, so I hope you’re not worried.
She is as well as always. She misses you though, and your fire magic.

You’re the alicorn of the sun. You can heat her up too.

And I do, you know how much she likes to cuddle in the fireplace, but still, she liked you. Likes you, I mean. Still fireproof in your current form?

Yep. I took care of that ages ago.

And your living arrangements during the summer?

I’m not worried. I have several ideas.

Good. You’ll forgive me if I’m still a little concerned.

Sunset poked her chin as she thought.

Oh, you want reassurance.

Please.

I’ll be fine. I’ll keep writing, and if I actually need help, which I won’t, I’ll write to Dumbledore.

Good. Thank you, Sunset.

“What language is that? It’s not English,” Sunset heard Harry say behind her.

It took a moment before Sunset’s mind was pulled back to Earth, and she almost jumped when she realized that Harry and Hermione were looking over her shoulder.

“What- nothing!” she blurted out.

“The language is nothing?” Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.

Sunset’s eyes darted back and forth. “Yyyes.”

Harry looked at the book, curious. “And it’s writing itself?”

Sunset snapped the book closed. “No?”

“I’m pretty sure it was.”

“Eh, you know… magic castle. Weird sights everywhere,” Sunset said, waving her hand, painfully aware that her classmates were all glancing at her, their minds jumping at the smallest distraction from their studies. She searched desperately for another subject. “So what happened to Ron?”

“Nothing!” Harry said, at the same time as Hermione said, “Dog-bite.”

Now it was their turn to have the curious gazes of their classmates aimed at them, and look around for inspired changes of subjects.

“You know… magic castle. Weird stuff everywhere,” Harry suggested.

Harry, Hermione, and Sunset, all looked at each other and nodded, feeling that these were valid responses, until Hermione quickly stood up.

“I think we have some business in the library,” she said.

“Yep,” said Harry, standing up as well.

“And I need to check something in the dorms,” Sunset said, as they all quickly left to do their own thing.

—

A few nights later, Sunset woke up from the sound of Hermione coming in through the door and lying down in bed. As she was falling asleep again, she heard what sounded like soft sobbing coming from Hermione’s bed, but it was too late, Sunset had lost consciousness.

The next day was Sunday, and as was usual, the student body slept in to varying degrees, and trickled into the great hall over a great span of time.

There were unusually few students at the tables though. Many were instead clustered around the hourglasses indicating the house points.

Several times a week, Sunset had gotten mildly curious about the house points and told herself that she should take a look at it, and see what she contributed, or perhaps who was winning, but every time, for months, she had just forgotten to look closer. Something about it just couldn’t hold her interest.

A more curious thing was Neville shambling in and sitting down by himself, far away from anyone else, looking down at his empty plate. Looking nervous was Neville Longbottom’s default expression, but this was different. His eyes were puffy and red, and his posture was particularly slumped.

Sunset slowly chewed her breakfast as she looked at him thoughtfully, before grabbing the rest of her food and walking over and sitting down next to him.

He tensed up, worried, as if she’d be hostile in some way, before he slowly slumped again.

“So what’s up?” she asked.

Sorrow in itself didn’t have a particular scent, perhaps because it wasn’t a particular emotion, but there were several mixtures of other scents, like worry and nervousness, fatigue, and a sort of tired tenseness, among others, that ponies could identify as sorrow.

He threw a quick glance at her elbow, before looking away, almost as if struck.

“Something happen?”

Neville quickly shook his head in minute movements, before continuing to just stare at his plate.

“Alright fine,” Sunset shrugged, and pushed her plate with a so-far untouched marmalade sandwich up in front of Neville. “Eat though.”

A pair of older boys, probably Ravenclaws, walked by, glaring at them.

“Nice job, Longbottom,” one of them said.

“Yeah, brilliant,” the other agreed.

“Keep walking,” Sunset calmly ordered them without sparing them a glance.

“Oh, are you defending him?” one of them demanded, as Sunset turned around and leaned back against the table. “I suppose you thought it was a great idea to–”

Sunset flicked her head slightly, a lock of her hair glowing for a blink of an eye as it forced just a small amount of the older boy’s saliva down the back of his throat.

He bent over, sputtering and coughing, while his friend tried to tend to him, before casting an alarmed glance at Sunset.

Sunset gave them a meaningful look that made them move on, before she turned to Neville again.

“Seriously, eat,” she insisted.

He looked at her, not sure if he was supposed to be astonished or not, before carefully taking a bite out of the sandwich.

“So what happened?”

It took a moment before he mumbled an answer. “I was out past curfew.”

“Yeah I know. I was there, remember?”

“No… again.”

“Alright. And?”

“I… got caught… by McGonagall.”

“Yeah? And then?”

“She… gave me detention and… she took away fifty points.”

“Oh.” Sunset only barely managed to keep herself from asking if that was a lot, and spun back around in her seat. “So what were you doing? Also, keep eating.”

Neville took another small bite. “Harry and Hermione were out past curfew, doing something, and I heard Malfoy was going to tell on them, and I went to warn them.”

Sunset suddenly remembered Hermione’s sobbing last night.

“Alright, I think I got the picture.” Sunset sighed and lazily looked around the hall as she tried to figure out what to say. “... So you tried being nice and it bit you, and now everyone is mad?”

Neville nodded. “I bet you’re mad too.”

“Nope. I really couldn't care less about points and stuff.”

Neville looked up at her in amazement. “But you earn almost as many points as Hermione.”

Sunset shrugged. “I guess. I still don’t really care though.” She sank deep into thought as she considered what Neville had said. “And here I was starting to warm up to McGonagall.”

It was a conundrum for Sunset. She could be the toughest and most capable person in the castle all she wanted, but if she started making friends, she felt she should put some effort into helping and protecting them. In fact, she could probably get Neville out of trouble as it was. She could solve whatever detention or task that was assigned to Neville for him. She could even force some more red sand into the Gryffindor hourglass and log it as Neville Longbottom having earned fifty points, attributed to because I say so, signed by Sunset Shimmer.

But Sunset wasn’t sure she wanted that. And even if she did, was that the right thing to do? She couldn’t quite figure it out, but something told her she’d be taking on responsibilities by doing so. Could she alternatively just sit by and do nothing?

Not even any middle ground she imagined seemed right to her, they all veered too much in one direction.

What could she tell him? Not to worry about it? That would only be relevant if he didn’t care for the company of others, which he did. Encourage him to do better? Sunset could think of few more condescending things to say, especially since he had just tried to help.

She looked around and saw that the students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff were occasionally casting Neville the stink eye, and even more at Harry and Hermione, who had just sat down by the table a little ways away as well, huddled together and not looking up. The Slytherins on the other hand were just smirking at them.

Sunset figured that she could at least provide some passive support by sitting next to Neville. She had already had breakfast, but reached for some oatmeal anyway, so she looked busy. “Alright, keep eating, and then we’re gonna practice some spells.”

—

McGonagall’s default facial expression was one of slightly impatient disapproval, which intensified just a little bit whenever she looked at Harry, Hermione, or Neville, while in class.

It was one of those subtle things that spoke of poor traits for a teacher according to Sunset. Showing noticeable disdain in a way that left the target unable to counter or defend themselves without looking touchy or paranoid.

Then again, considering what Snape got away with on a regular basis, McGonagall was being outright gentle.

Still, Sunset could see her faltering somewhat in her mission to disapprove of Neville, who was slightly ahead of the class this lesson, except Hermione and herself, as Sunset had managed to map out the order of the spells that McGonagall had them practice and prepared Neville for it.

McGonagall looked up to see Sunset staying behind as the rest of the class filed out.

“Yes, Miss Shimmer, do you have a question?” she said, trying not to sound hopeful.

“That’s right, Professor,” Sunset said, leaning against a table. “I’d like to know what Neville will be doing for detention.”

McGonagall fought to not purse her lips. “I’m sorry, Miss Shimmer, but I cannot reveal that.”

“Alright then, I’d like to do it instead of him.”

McGonagall was still for a moment. “I’m afraid that is out of the question.”

Sunset was silent while trying to figure out the best approach from here. McGonagall spoke first.

“I’m sure you realize why we cannot allow students to take each others’ places at detention. I don’t understand why you would want to either.”

Sunset drummed her fingers on the desk for a moment. “I believe you. Goodbye, professor,” she said, and turned around and marched out.

As the days went by, the students’ deep annoyance with Harry, Hermione, and Neville died down, probably in large parts because it had to take a back seat to the last minute studying before the finals.

It still meant that there was a lot of tension and annoyance in the air in general all over the castle, and Sunset could tell that the three of them felt that all short tempers and scowls they encountered were personal.

Even Fred and George studied more than usual, and with so few sources of levity left, Sunset did so as well.

“So have you given up on studying potions in your free time?” George asked.

Sunset glanced up from her armchair to check that Percy was sitting on the other side of the common room, writing furiously on a roll of paper, with a book and notes splayed over the footrest next to his feet.

“Of course not, I’m just doing it where no one else can see.”

“That’s the spirit, learning and breaking rules at the same time,” Fred said. “You’re a girl after my own heart.”

“Oh and mine is so aflutter,” Sunset said, in a bored voice.

“Hah,” George said, while a grinning Fred punched him in the shoulder.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you two studying as well,” Sunset noted.

The twins looked at each other. “And here I thought we were being so sneaky,” George said.

“Aye, she can destroy our reputation with a word,” Fred said. “However can we dissuade her?”

“Show me a trick you’ve learned,” Sunset suggested.

The twins shrugged, and looked over the backrest of their couch at Percy. “Alright, watch this,” George said, and pointed his wand at Percy’s footrest while muttering something under his breath.

Percy scrambled in shock as the footrest started squirming violently and emitting loud squeals.

The whole room turned to look as the footrest acted like an angry pig, squealing and squirming, and spilling all of Percy’s notes over the floor.

He fumbled for his wand, and after a few attempts he managed to disenchant the piece of furniture and make it return to an inanimate footrest, before scanning the room with a highly indignant look as nearly everyone else in the room looked back at him questioningly.

Except Fred and George, who had retreated behind their backrest and were huffing and biting down on fistfulls of their robes in an attempt to keep from guffawing loudly.

Sunset grinned widely. “Nice.”

—

That evening, Sunset was lounging in her bed with a book, reading by candlelight, as Lavender and Parvati came in.

“Where was Hermione going?” Lavender asked Parvati.

“To detention,” she said. “Pretty strange if you ask me, punishing them for being out past curfew, and then having them be out past curfew.”

Sunset nodded in agreement to herself.

“I wonder what she was doing out anyway? She’s such a teacher’s pet, and it was the second time,” Lavender said, as they were changing into their sleepwear.

“Do you know, Sunset?” Parvati asked.

“Can’t say I do, and neither did Neville,” Sunset said, not looking up from her book.

“Well, goodnight, you two.”

“Goodnight,” Parvati and Lavender said back, as the two other girls slipped into their beds, pulling the curtains partially closed, leaving enough open for their own candlelight and bringing up their own books for last minute study.

Sunset stood up and paced back and forth in the room, before standing over by a window and looking out across the dark castle grounds.

In the distance, four figures, the tallest of them with a lantern, were walking towards the edge of the forest, where the unmistakable shape of Hagrid stood with a lantern of his own, with Fang waiting next to him.

Sunset still couldn’t sort it out. Why would it be her problem, she wondered. But just ignoring it didn’t sit right with her either.

After several moments, she sighed to herself, and concentrated on becoming as uninteresting as possible. While Parvati and Lavender were practically begging for their senses to distract them, they were also not exactly the most observant people in the world, and didn’t look up when Sunset walked out.

A flash of light later, and Sunset felt the crisp night air as she looked at the two lantern lights in the distance from the greenhouses. Filch and Hagrid conversed about something before Filch turned and left, then Hagrid was talking with the students, Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Draco, for a few moments, before they turned towards the forest and walked in, with Draco being very careful to be in the middle.

Filch kept turning around and looking towards the forest with a giddiness Sunset couldn’t help but roll her eyes at. She kept her sensory redirection spells active, first to avoid Filch detecting her, and when she entered the forest, to avoid Harry and Fang from noticing.

The forest was dark and damp from mist, and illuminated by only a few strands of starlight peering through the high canopy. She could feel the forest feeling her presence, curious, happy, and… something else.

She didn’t stop to try and converse with it though. Talking with forests could be a notoriously drawn out process, and most ponies, even earth ponies, needed a long time of familiarity to understand anything really clear and insightful, especially from a larger body of woods.

Even so, she let it know she was listening as she followed the lantern light in the distance, Hagrid’s rumbling voice conversing softly with the others about something. Her classmates were clearly moving too fast for their comfort, as Hagrid’s careful, stalking steps translated to a stride for the much smaller humans.

The forest felt friendly to Sunset, but there was a hesitance to its happiness at her presence.

“What do you mean?” she whispered to her surroundings in general, as she kept her eyes on the people in the distance.

Hagrid stopped, then crouched down and showed the others something before talking meaningfully with them for a moment.

After a while, he took out another lantern, handed it to Draco, and the party split into two, with Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid going one direction, and Draco, Neville, and Fang going another.

Sunset hurried ahead to what Hagrid had shown, and let out a small gasp at the sight, before rushing ahead and carefully dipping her fingers in the silvery substance on the forest floor.

A pool of unicorn blood, shining in the starlight.

This explained to Sunset why there was a job to do in the forest. She looked at the pool, wanting to stay and inspect it closer, to see if anything could be learned from it, but the lantern lights were disappearing behind the undergrowth. She stood up, and followed Neville and Draco, who were clumsily following the trail on the ground.

After she had caught up enough that she was sure she wouldn’t lose sight of them, she realized something, and paused, slowly placing a hand on an oak. It made sense now.

The forest was worried about her.

She patted the oak gratefully to let it know she understood, then pulled her cloak tighter around her.

Doubling her efforts to stay hidden, both magicaly and physically, Sunset crept behind Malfoy and Neville as they nervously looked around, their lantern shining like a flare and revealing them to any potential threat around instead of crouching low and letting the moonlight show them the trail of blood. Only Fang made a proper effort to stay hidden.

Draco muttered something unintelligible to Neville, who held the torch high, but it seemed Neville managed quite the comeback, because Malfoy just slunk back and seemed to simply stalk Neville.

After a while, he slipped behind a tree and let Neville continue without him, and when Neville realized he was alone except for Fang he started looking around wildly, before Draco jumped out with his cloak held out like a big bat and shouting at Neville.

Neville shouted as well, and dropped the lantern as he fell to the ground, pulled his wand, and started waving it around wildly, sending red sparks into the air.

Sunset could only groan in frustration at the scene. She leaned against a tree and scowled in their general direction as Draco laughed at Neville.

Before long, the huge shape of Hagrid came rushing through the undergrowth, and much like a boar, surprisingly quick and quiet for someone of his stature.

“‘S goin’ on ‘ere!?” he barked, prompting a mumbled explanation from Neville.

“Ruddy idiot,” Hagrid muttered at Draco, and ushered them in front of him, leading them back to where he had come from, fuming.

Sunset followed at the same distance as before as all five witches and wizards, and their hound, regrouped, and split up again, this time with Harry, Malfoy, and Fang going to follow the trail Sunset had just left.

Deciding to hedge her bets on the trail that Malfoy wasn’t following, Sunset set off after Hagrid, Neville, and Hermione.

“I’m sorry, Mister Hagrid,” she heard Neville say.

“‘s alright,” Hagrid muttered. “Jes keep yer eyes on the trail.”

“Did you see the centaurs as well?” Hermione asked Neville.

Sunset froze. Images of the tattooed creatures chasing ponies with bows and arrows through the forests flashed through her head.

“No. You met centaurs?”

“Aye,” said Hagrid. “They’re strange ones. Never bin able ter figure out what they want. Outsiders cannae understand ‘em and what they want. Ask me, they like it that way.”

Sunset didn’t have any trouble believing that.

After a few minutes of silent walking, a terrified scream came from the direction Harry and Malfoy had gone.

Hagrid and the others noticed it a few seconds later, but by then, Sunset was already off in that direction, the forest lifting its branches and leaves just as she was about to pass through, as she used her magic to jump between branches and on top of thickets.

The thumps of hooves were sounding in the distance, just as Malfoy came running at top speed down a trail, fang just ahead of him, still screaming at the top of his lungs.

Some sort of commotion was going on further into the dark woods, but then it suddenly stopped.

Sunset kept running, and after a few moments, the sound of hooves galloping away from her could be heard.

Then, she came across a clearing.

There was no Harry, and no centaur, or any other foul creature.

What was there though, was a body.

A dead unicorn, Canterlot-white in both coat and mane, lying on the ground, silver blood forming small pools on the forest floor from wounds all over its body.

The tension instantly flowed out of the forest. Whatever happened here mere moments ago chased away the danger- whatever it was.

Sunset would’ve chased after the sound of the hooves, but she couldn’t help but offer the forest her support by being present.

It was a disgusting sight, the pure results of knowing evil and cruelty, but Sunset didn’t feel anger, she was preoccupied by the sadness of the woods washing over her, and its gentle but deep sorrow as it mourned a dear friend.

She walked over and sat on her knees in front of the unicorn, brushing his mane out of his eyes. At the very least, his expression was peaceful.

Sunset didn’t know how long she sat there, but eventually she stood up. The forest knew this stallion, she would leave the honoring of his mortal remains to it.

She walked towards the castle, the threatening atmosphere now gone from the woods, and it was just a moonlit forest, watching over her as she walked.

She reached the edge of the forest. It bid her farewell, and with a flash of light, Sunset was back in Gryffindor tower.

Hermione wasn’t there, but a quick peek down into the common room revealed her, along with Harry and Ron.

Confident that no students had been hurt at least, she went to bed, and fell into a deep but numb sleep.

Author's Notes:

Well, this took a while. It's been really hard to write lately, so I hope this is to people's liking.

Not much left of book one in the source material. I'm gonna say it plain right away, there won't be an exciting climax for the first school year in this story, and we're gonna move right onto the summer holiday. At least that's how I'm imagining it now.

A Long Way Left To Go

You mentioned that there had been outright war a decade earlier?

The rest of the school were still deep in their studies, letting others assume that any lingering brooding on Sunset’s part from seeing the corpse in the woods was just her way of expressing stress.

She looked at the spine of the most informative history book on her bedside table, sweeping her memories of what it said.

Eleven years ago now I suppose, but yes.
Although I’m not sure how a war in this society would play out. The magic population is not large enough for battles for one thing, so those are out.

I imagine it would look much like civil unrest.
What I wanted to get to however, is that I’m curious what you think of that world. Seeing a murder within a year of arriving is worrisome, but with a war so recent in its history, many evils and tragedies would be lingering, waiting to unfurl, even as more benevolent forces struggle to rebuild for the benefit of all.

While I can help you, you are the only pony who can judge that world, and what you should do for the next many moons.
I cannot lie, I worry for you, Sunset, but I also trust your judgment.

Sunset hummed as she tried collecting her thoughts.

I think you’re right about the effects of war. Remember Hagrid? He was very upset at even the thought of a hurt unicorn, even though it was a very different being from himself. People here are not so callous as one might fear from hearing this.

Yes, you mentioned the poor stallion was different. Can you tell me more?

He had smaller eyes, was larger, and looked more feral than what is normal on Equestria.

Interesting. I would’ve liked to see him or his kin, preferably alive and well, and see if I recognized them, but I suppose it will remain a curious little detail.
Now, my little Sunset, I’ve promised myself to make more time for you, but if I don’t attend to some courtly business, I’m afraid Kibitz’ mustache will start fraying.

It’s okay. Tell him I said hi, and that I found his bangs.

The book was still for a moment.

“Very droll, young mistress,” he says back, and wonders if they were next to your humility. Now, let us respect our elders, even when we’re many centuries older than them, and let Kibitz have the last word.
Goodbye for now, Sunset. With love.

With love.

—

Finals were finally upon them. The heat was sweltering for all students who didn’t have the foresight or skill to use magic to regulate their body temperature, which to Sunset seemed to be everyone except herself.

It played out much as expected. McGonagall was strictly refusing to indicate anything with her expression as Sunset transformed mice into snuff boxes, and Flitwick was brimming with encouragement and congratulated Sunset as she made pineapples dance across a desk.

Snape was no doubt seething at Sunset’s perfect forgetfulness potion, and Binns had a list of boring history statements with dates and keywords missing that they were supposed to fill in.

Sunset’s classmates cheered as the final minute of the final exam came to a close, and filed out of the classroom, talking to each other with that particular kind of relief at finally having escaped something stressful and not really threatening at all.

“So how did you do, Sunset?” Dean Thomas asked, drawing her into the conversation he was in the process of pulling the whole class into.

“I believe I passed,” Sunset said, evenly.

“Tsh, yeah. You never have any problems with anything,” Seamus Finnigan said, making Lavender and Parvati nod with an expression on their faces that Sunset couldn’t identify.

“If only,” Sunset said, wistfully.

Most of the rest of the class tried talking loudly about the finals, speculating about the details about thresholds for passing and failing, until Hermione’s overbearing opinions on the entire subject exhausted everyone.

Sunset slowed down to walk next to Neville, nudging him with an elbow.

“Well?”

“Uhm… I’m not… I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Naturally,” Sunset said. “Wanna speculate?”

“Uh… no?”

Sunset nodded. “There’s wisdom in that,” she said.

The entire school was trickling out of the castle to relax on the grounds, saunter across the lawns, or skip stones across the lake. The exception was the older students who had more subjects and more extensive tests.

Sunset followed the example of many other students, and found a tree to sit in the shadows of, lying in the grass of a slope and looking down across the grounds to the lake.

Humans didn’t determine the weather. This went without saying for humans without magic, but wizards and witches didn’t seem very interested in doing so either, and like their non-magic counterparts, used shelter instead when the whimsy of the weather was disagreeable.

It led to a lot of dreary days, but this was not one of them. The sun was shining, the sky was blue with just enough spontaneously occurring clouds to make for interesting shapes to look at, and the mountains were a comforting, lively green in the distance.

It took a while before Sunset figured that the relief of the students, and the scent of that, might be affecting her, but she decided not to fight it. Today was a good day to relax.

She heard a bumblebee buzzing close by, and held out her hand in front of her face.

Her nail glowed slightly, and gathered up some stray pollen from the flowers growing here and there around her, collecting it into a small glob on the tip of her finger.

The bumblebee landed on her hand and eagerly started eating and gathering as much as it could, as fast as it could.

“Shhh, relax,” Sunset encouraged it, and gently placed her other index finger on the back of its thorax. “It’s okay.”

The poor creatures would work themselves to early deaths if left to their own devices, their limited capacity to perceive and interpret the world making them plan for the worst at all times, and achieving it on an individual level.

Both out in the country, and in gardens in the cities, beekeeping ponies spent a lot of time simply calming their bees down. It led to each bee being slightly less productive per day, but much more productive over their lifetime, as they lived much longer lives.

After a few moments, the bumblebee worked less frantically, and gathered up the pollen in a more relaxed way.

Once it had gathered almost everything, a shape plopped down next to Sunset, causing the bumblebee to take flight back to wherever its hive was.

“So how did you do at finals?” Draco Malfoy asked.

Sunset chuckled to herself.

“What?” Draco asked.

“Nothing,” Sunset said, amused by Draco’s consistency when it came to starting conversations. “I think I did okay.”

“Yeah, you would,” Draco said. “You’re from a powerful family.”

Sunset cast him a sideways glance, wondering how he came to that conclusion.

“I’m an orphan.”

Draco opened his mouth, before looking away for a moment. “Oh. I’m sorry. But, uh… what I mean is that your family must’ve been powerful magically.”

“Possibly,” Sunset said, looking back up into the sky. She slowly started looking Draco over, magically, to try and discern how powerful he was. It was hard to truly tell, much like it was hard to tell how strong someone actually was by looking at their bulk, but it worked to some degree.

Sunset felt that Draco had an above-average amount of magic power, for a wizard, but not freakishly so. What was interesting was that he, like all wizards in this school, was training to master a type of magic where one’s inner magic strength rarely had any impact on the results. This was very obvious in the case of Hermione, who had a below-average amount of magic power, and still won more house points than all of Gryffindor’s third year students put together.

“So where do you live if you… if your family is, ehm…”

“Gone?” Sunset suggested.

“Yeah.”

“I used to live with a… a woman,” Sunset started.

“A witch?” Draco quickly asked.

“She could do magic if that’s what you mean,” Sunset said. “But I left, joined Hogwarts, and for… reasons, I can’t stay with her for now.”

“So what will you do during the summer?”

Sunset wondered if McGonagall and Dumbledore had finagled Draco into trying to pull information out of her.

“I’ll make do,” she said, as she casually pulled her wand out of her inner pocket, and held it out in front of her. “Aurus.”

Puffs of water vapor started spilling out of the wand, and in the warm air, it quickly dispersed, until Sunset said, “Glacius,” making it cool down and form mist hovering over the ground, rolling down the soft slope she was resting on.

Draco looked on for a moment, before he too pulled out his wand. “My father taught me this one,” he said, and aimed at the mist. “Anguis Figura.”

Sunset lazily looked at the utter lack of effect, not noticing Draco’s blush.

“Anguis Figura,” he repeated, this time making the effect form into a snake formed from mist, large as a boa.

It slithered down the slope with great speed, making a pair of Ravenclaw girls shriek and jump up when they saw it move past them.

Sunset sniggered, and Draco smirked, as the harmless shape continued towards the lake, slithering out over it.

“Glacio,” Sunset said again, making the vapor snake turn into a solid, snake-shaped chunk of ice, which plopped into the water and lazily floated along the bank to some onlookers’ curiosity.

“My parents would be impressed by what you can do. I’m sure they’d like to know more about you,” Draco said.

Sunset thought back to hazy images of a richly dressed couple with elitist expressions seen on the other side of The Leaky Cauldron main dining room, and tried not to let her skepticism show.

“It’s just a few tricks I ran across,” Sunset said.

Down by the bank, a group of second year Hufflepuffs had fished the ice-snake out of the water, and one of them was making a big show out of swinging it over his head and smashing it into pieces on the ground.

Draco was silent for a moment.

“That’s a very Slytherin thing to say,” he eventually said, smirking a little. “Cunning, you know?”

“I suppose so,” Sunset said, watching the other student pick up chunks of the formerly snake-shaped sculpture and throw them out towards the water, trying to skip them across the surface. “I’m still not sure what the point is with the whole house system. No, wait, I suppose it’s meant to be motivational to have it be a competition.”

She thought back to an afternoon in Canterlot, when Celestia was holding court. To the side of the hall was a flight of stairs in the wall, cleverly hidden in plain sight, leading up to an overlook. One of several, which provided one with views of the hall, much like a box in a theater. Only they were hidden behind a tapestry that only a select few ponies could see through, like Celestia’s security detail, Sunset Shimmer, Raven the secretary, and of course, Kibitz.

Kibitz. If there was a pony more dedicated to his task than Celestia or Sunset, it would be him. A high-functioning, world-class workaholic, he tended to sit in these and quietly preside over the proceedings, except one time when Sunset had finagled him into showing his considerable skill in chess, which in Equestria had three dimensions.

Sunset had decided beforehand to not bristle at any defeat she suffered at his hooves, but it was still difficult to keep her face straight as she felt Kibitz playing with her and dangling layers upon layers of traps and distractions disguised as opportunities and openings, even as he barely focused on the game, and mostly looked at Celestia and listened to the droning of the court.

“Ask yourself if you think there’s a difference between winning, and winning with style,” he had said, as he checked Sunset, without even looking at the board.

Lying in the shade outside of Hogwarts castle, Sunset smiled easily at the memory, lazily watching a set of giant tentacles rising out of the water and batting the ice-chunks to the cheers of the students by the bank.

“I think it’s also useful to know who belongs where,” Draco ventured.

“I guess… maybe,” Sunset admitted.

“Did you say the sorting hat said you could belong in Slytherin?” Draco carefully asked.

“Yep.”

“Good.”

Sunset chortled, making Draco blush.

“I mean, uh… it’s good that we- uh, you’re… cunning,” Draco hurried to say.

“You better be too or else it speaks poorly about me that you’ve noticed,” Sunset noted.

Draco struggled with that one for a moment, before smiling a bit. “Yeah. My whole family has been in Slytherin. Got to keep up the legacy, you know?”

“Can’t say I do, but I can imagine,” Sunset said, and remembered that she hadn’t reciprocated to Draco’s probing. “So how did you do at the exams?”

“I believe I did well,” Draco said, nodding regally. “I’d be surprised if I didn’t get the highest grade in all subjects. Professor Snape is a friend of the family, you know?”

“He certainly approves of you in potions class, I know that much.”

They sat in silence as Draco fumbled for things to say, watching the tentacles splash water at the students by the bank, making the girls shriek and retreat and the boys laugh and cheer for the creature to do it again.

“I’m… sure he approves of you as well,” Draco ventured.

Sunset scoffed while smiling.

“I mean… he’s, ehm… a little harsh, but you’re still learning a lot from him.”

Still smiling, Sunset shook her head. “Nope. It’s all me. Like just about everything here.”

Draco fell silent, and after a while, he stole a glance at the side of Sunset’s face as she kept looking out over the water. Something about her made him keep searching for things to say, but not finding anything.

This made him internally frantic, rather than angry, though he didn’t notice.

—

The next night, Sunset had heard Hermione sneak out of the dormitory again. This wasn’t suspicious in itself, as the common room was still open to the students after curfew. It was the half-loud thump that was odd.

Still, Sunset went back to sleep.

It wasn’t until the next morning, when Sunset sat down by the Gryffindor table, that she noticed that the student body was absolutely buzzing with whispering and gossiping.

Sunset glanced around and noticed a few missing faces, and realized that her brain was already picking out the puzzle pieces with the flat edges.

“Where’s Hermione?” she asked.

Her classmates looked at her. “Haven’t you heard!?” Parvati asked.

Sunset looked at her. “... Yes… I know everything, I’m just talking about it because everyone else is and I don’t want to be the odd one out.”

Parvati shot Sunset a glare before Lavender and Dean spoke up instead.

“Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville are in the hospital wing,” was what you would get if you combined their sentences into one and pruned it appropriately.

“They say dark wizards snuck into the castle, and they dueled them,” Seamus supplied.

“Nah, I heard it was You-Know-Who they fought,” Dean said.

“Oh come off!” Parvati interjected. “Four grown wizards couldn’t fight him, four first-years definitely can’t.”

“Ah!” Dean said, holding up a finger and leaning past Lavender to address her. “But he kicked it when he tried killing Harry the first time, didn’t he? Why not this time too?”

“Excuse me, isn’t he dead?” Lavender noted.

Dean shrugged. “Who knows with wizards that powerful? They say only Dumbledore could fight him.”

“Yeah, and is Dumbledore immortal?” Parvati asked.

“He might be,” Dean said, shrugging. “We don’t know. Or maybe he doesn’t wanna do what you need to do to become immortal. Evil, dark magic and all that.”

“You need evil magic to become immortal?” Sunset asked, skeptically.

“Sure, otherwise, we’d have heard about it being taught in school, wouldn’t we?” Dean noted. “It stands to reason.”

Sunset shook her head. “So what happened to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville?” she asked.

“I heard that they fought dark wizards until Dumbledore saved them, and then they collapsed,” Lavender said.

“I heard that they all got horrible scars everywhere,” Seamus said.

“I heard that they all got dark magic inside them so now they need to suck magic out of witches and wizards to stay alive,” Dean said, in an excited voice.

Sunset glanced around at them. “And you all heard this from where?”

That made them all glance down at their plates again. “From… people.”

“I see,” Sunset said, and looked around. “Where’s Fred, George, and Percy?”

“They came in while we were eating and put some food on trays, and then went out again,” Parvati explained.

“In the direction of the medical wing?” Sunset asked, to which the others nodded. “With food for about four people?” and they nodded again. “Right. Good.”

Breakfast proceeded quietly after that, with some quiet ire being leveled at Sunset for bursting such a fine gossip-bubble.

Sunset herself was glad that her classmates were all alive. She felt challenged enough that there had been some sort of battle right under her nose that she managed to miss. If people had died it would’ve been too much, something would’ve had to be done, flanks would’ve had to be kicked.

Hermione and Neville came back around lunch, and were immediately pelted with questions by students of all ages and from all houses, except Slytherin, although everyone could tell they were trying to listen in on every word. It actually looked pretty funny as a long table of people were all glancing in a way that was no doubt supposed to be discreet in the direction of Hermione and Neville.

It didn’t really do anything to quell the rumors. Quite the opposite in fact.

For a brief moment, some of the more sensible rumors were in the lead, that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had found out that a dark wizard had infiltrated the castle as part of some nefarious plan, and maybe Neville was with them, it was unclear, and that said evil wizard was defeated, possibly dead. Also, it was said that Professor Quirrel of all people was the dark wizard all along. He certainly was nowhere to be found, although others said that he had also fought against the dark wizards, and had died or been sent to a place called St Mungo’s hospital in the aftermath.

But soon enough, the rumors started to mutate again. The Dark Lord’s former followers had all assaulted the castle to steal something that could resurrect their master, Harry Potter had all fought them single-handedly, Hagrid had sent the castle menagerie against them, Salazar Slytherin had woken up in a secret crypt as a vampire, Albus Dumbledore’s evil twin had tried to take the headmaster’s place during the night but was defeated, or perhaps even succeeded and no one could tell, the faculty had all been replaced by body-doubles, and so on.

There was also the fact that Fred and George, ever struggling to keep straight faces, were pouring copious amounts of fuel on the fire, saying that no, it wasn’t just The Dark Lord’s servants, but the whole ministry of magic, which had been infiltrated and turned to evil, that Harry fought, and that Ron had led a board of giant chess pieces to battle against them alongside him.

Curiously, Percy did nothing to try and stop them doing this.

Like the Manehatten stock exchange, the rumors and speculations grew to such ridiculous heights that a critical mass of people pulled out and rejected the whole thing out of hand, and the illusion shattered almost instantly. Sunset had sometimes wondered what it would’ve looked like if Celestia didn’t use her influence to surreptitiously keep redirecting all the funds back into repayment plans just before it happened. A thousand years old ruler makes sure she heads off economic collapse.

So, finally, the rumors simmered down into more sensible but longer-lasting levels. Some villain had been in the castle during the night, Harry Potter and his friends had snuck out, and… all was well the next morning. To many, that spoke volumes.

What caught Sunset’s attention however, was what her classmates had spoken of, that it stood to reason that immortality could only be obtained through dark magic.

Sunset played with the idea that evil magic was what had led to Celestia’s immortality, perhaps as an unwilling experimental subject, or perhaps she had been a villain who had a change of heart, but she dismissed that idea quickly. Sunset knew Celestia too well, and besides, if powerful magics were required to become an alicorn, then Cadence, and her, in Sunset’s opinion, bottomless ineptitude at magic, made no sense. But perhaps something like a combination of wizarding magic and pony magic could be possible, replacing the evil aspects of dark wizarding magic with more agreeable supplements from pony magic. It was too early to tell, but Sunset filed it away as something to consider in the future.

So a few days passed, Harry came out of the hospital wing, and it was time for the feast to celebrate the end of the school year.

Harry arrived among the last students, and for once, Sunset noticed the student house competition that everyone kept going on about, since the hall was awash in Slytherin green and silver.

Apparently, Gryffindor had come in last, and Slytherin first, before Dumbledore handed out one hundred and seventy points to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville, at the last minute, changing the decoration to Gryffindor red and gold.

Sunset joined in the applause aimed at her classmates, but she refrained from cheering. She let others do that.

“We wouldn’t even have needed those points if Snape hadn’t docked so many points from you,” Dean told Sunset, grinning.

“He did?” Sunset said, mildly surprised.

It was an evening of excellent food, and Sunset couldn’t help but let the scent of high spirits influence her around the table, before one more night at the castle.

The next morning, the first years took the boats over the lake, towards the train station.

Sunset still wasn’t sure why only the first years took the naval route, and it seemed like no one else knew either. Some said that children under the age of twelve were not allowed in the village of Hogsmeade, which the road towards the station skirted along, some said that was because the villagers kept vicious monsters that feasted on too young people. Hermione said it was just tradition.

The train ride was fairly uneventful. Sunset ended up in a compartment with Parvati, Lavender, and Neville. After listening to their gossip for about an hour, Neville followed Sunset’s example, rolled up his cloak to use as a pillow, and slept most of the way. Before long, she pulled off her robe, revealing her more muggle-appropriate attire underneath.

“See you after the summer then?” he asked, as they stepped off from the train.

“Probably, yeah. Unless I get myself expelled before then,” Sunset said.

Augusta, Neville’s grandmother, was there to collect him on the magical train platform. Neville hurried up to her, and waved goodbye to Sunset. Augusta nodded to Sunset in the distance, who nodded back, before Sunset set off towards the exit leading to the rest of King’s Cross.

She had straggled behind, and was surrounded by people and students she didn’t know, and before long, she felt like she had given everyone the slip without even intending to.

“So… where to now?” she said to herself, looking around the people milling around, looking at the large signposts showing which trains would be departing from which platform, buying snacks from the kiosks, reading newspapers, and waiting on benches.

Adjusting her shoulder bag with all her school supplies in, she sauntered away, looking for something promising.

Looking out a window, Sunset spotted a section of the street with the self-propelled vehicles parked, large ones, with their destinations displayed in large, glowing letters on their fronts.

One of them was going to Surrey, which sounded familiar.

“How much?” Sunset asked the large, sweaty man in uniform behind the wheel, bringing up her bag.

“Two quids,” he muttered, clearly not in a good mood.

Sunset fished out two one pound coins, and handed them to the man, who had a little device print out a receipt and ticket for her, before nodding his head to her to take a seat.

Sunset sat down in a factory-made polyester seat, and waited. She’d be worried the vehicle wouldn’t travel before nightfall, if not for the sporadic boarding of other people, and when the bus was nearing capacity, it rumbled to life, and slowly rolled out onto a larger road, before picking up speed.

Sunset pulled out her book, but only sat with it in her lap, thinking about what to write to Celestia.

Sunset would be fine, of course. She had her magic, she was smart, and observant, and she didn’t need anyone else.

But she still couldn’t help but feel that the summer would be kinda boring compared to life at Hogwarts.

She’d just have to make it interesting.

Author's Notes:

I think that... yes, the delay since the previous chapter wasn't actually that long. A cause for celebration?

Too bad my job left me feeling a bit under the weather today. I'll try and stay enthusiastic when responding to any comments, but I might have even more trouble than usual coming up with something other than a generic thank you. Rest assured that I mean it where applicable

Oh right, like I stated previously. there was no real climax to this year, but don't worry, the story is not over yet.

As of writing this, I'm trying to come up with a title while falling asleep in my chair.

In An English Country... Suburb

A long train ride followed by a moderately long ride on another, track-less sort of transport, and it was evening before Sunset arrived at Surrey.

The vehicle had exited the great city of London, traveled through a sort of dip in building density, and then entered an area of moderate urbanization again.

Uneven patches with houses of various sizes made way to denser, more orderly zones of townhouses.

Some of the humans around Sunset gave her strange looks when they realized she was suddenly holding a wooden mug, which she had kept from Hogwarts, filled with gently steaming hot tea.

Sunset pondered her options as the house-covered landscape, illuminated in the evening sun, slowly passed through her window.

Finally making a decision, she put her mug inside her jacket where it seemingly vanished, and disembarked away from the town center.

Most muggles had come home, and were relaxing in their houses and backyards. The scent of burning charcoal and sizzling meat and vegetables could be smelled from several directions, and the odd passerby gave Sunset polite, if slightly aloof, nods.

There was a hard border zone for buildings and a partially kept field beyond. Copses of trees of various sizes were placed in that random way that nature tends to arrange things when left to its own devices, and between them the field was clearly mowed roughly and on occasion as opposed to a garden, enough to keep saplings from establishing themselves.

On the border of this area was a playground in a large sandpit, empty until Sunset walked into it. Swings and park benches were out in the open, but a playground fort made of wood, with a wide metal slide going down from it, was partially obscured by young oaks… by oak standards at least.

Sunset sat on the slide, set her shoulder bag down beside her, and pulled out her robe, throwing it around her like a blanket.

She looked around the area, so calm and empty in the light of the quickly setting sun, to make sure she was alone.

With a few waves of her hand, her nails glowing, dry twigs and a newly fallen limb from a tree floated towards her from the feet of nearby trees and shrubs, forming into a pile in front of her.

Not that she actually needed kindling, or even fuel, but she felt it best to make it look genuine in muggle lands. She clenched her fist, sucking out the moisture from the wood and levitating it above her hand before tossing it into the sand, then fired a jet of orange flame towards the pile of wood, which lit up into a cozy fire within seconds.

She retrieved a bag, formerly for onions for potions class, and pulled out some other things from Hogwarts, in this instance a fork and some toast.

As she was holding the toast over the flame, a voice called out. “What’s that you’re doing there?”

Sunset looked up to see a woman with graying hair looking at her, dressed in a robe and ill-fitting rubber boots, with a grocery bag of what seemed like tin cans in her hand.

Sunset suddenly felt a lot less sure than she did mere seconds ago. She had figured that some muggles were going to be easy to deal with compared to the faculty at Hogwarts, and the students on top of that, but now, confronted with a nosy muggle, she stumbled.

“Uh… enjoying the fire, I guess.”

“Well!” the woman said, and stomped up towards Sunset. “I’ll be…”

The woman suddenly stopped when she got close enough to get a proper look at the young girl.

Sunset would’ve liked to believe she just looked that impressive, but felt it was risky to assume that, and just sat there in silence.

“... I’ll be… happy to have your name, young miss,” the woman suddenly said.

“Uh, it’s… Sunset. What’s… yours?” Sunset said, very much caught off-guard.

“Oh, my name is Arabella,” the woman said. “May I ask why you’re lighting fires in the playground?”

This was not according to script at all, Sunset felt. Even Flitwick would probably softly admonish her for something like this.

“I was… reheating some toast,” she said, giving the fork a little wave.

Arabella opened her mouth slightly. “Where are…” she started, before she realized she was whispering, and cleared her throat. “I mean… where are your parents, Sunset?”

Sunset tried putting on an indifferent facial expression, which came across as a lot less casual than she intended.

First at the orphanage, and then at Celestia’s school, most ponies she met knew she was an orphan. Here though, she understandably had to repeat that fact to people quite often.

“Gone,” she eventually said. “You know… dead.”

Arabella’s mouth hung open slightly longer, before she clearly put effort into pulling herself together. “And where do you live? Who cares for you?”

“Eh…” Sunset said, grasping for explanations and words a lot more than she had intended, before noticing that her slice of bread was blackening at one end.

She grunted in annoyance, and inspected the blackened piece, before putting it in her mouth. “Mmm… you know,” she said, between chews. “I’m making do.”

This clearly did not satisfy Arabella, who nodded slightly to herself.

“I… have a couch,” she said, making Sunset raise an eyebrow in her direction. “If you want to sleep on it I mean.”

“Oh,” Sunset said, making her feel both grateful and flustered. “That’s… very nice of you, but I’ll be fine out here.”

“... What if I insist?”

Sunset smiled up at her. “That would speak well of you, I suppose, but really, I’ll be fine.”

Arabella looked at Sunset for a few more moments, before nodding to herself, a little sad. “Well… alright,” she said. “But… then I will insist that you come and visit if you’re ever hungry.”

That was a direction Sunset felt she wanted to take this conversation in. It was both a possible boon in the future, and a possible closer to the conversation.

“That’s very nice of you,” she said, and smiled at Arabella. “Where do you live?”

Arabella pointed down the road. “Take the right over there down Wisteria Walk, on the left hand side, in number seventeen.”

“Great. Thanks,” Sunset said.

“Not a problem. You try and have a pleasant evening now, Miss Sunset.”

“I will. You too.”

Arabella nodded, and walked off to where she had pointed.

Sunset let out a sigh of relief, and finished the rest of her piece of bread.

She thanked Harmony that had gone so smoothly. For a moment there it looked like she might’ve had to cast perception manipulation spells on both Arabella and a bunch of muggle law enforcement officers. While she felt confident she could pull that off, she didn’t want to risk it before knowing more about their organization and capabilities, and more importantly, she just didn’t feel like it. Something made Sunset feel drained and a little wistful tonight, perhaps it was all the traveling today, but she was not in a fighting mood.

She looked around herself carefully, before picking up the little bonfire with her magic and moving it closer to the little playground fort, and pulled the fallen larch limb and snapped it in pieces to make more fuel.

A quick spell cleared the dust, sand, and cobwebs from the structure, and she lay down on the planks, partially protected from the elements, and wrapped her Hogwarts robe around her like a blanket. Placing herself staring closely into the little pyre and holding her hands in the fire and idly playing with the flames, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

—

It took several minutes of waking up before Sunset realized her brain wasn’t just doing a very poor job of dreaming.

No one had found Sunset this morning, which was no wonder considering the thick mist that blanketed everything around her.

That’s when she noticed that her shoulder bag, which she had been using as a pillow, was vibrating slightly.

“Mmmmmm…” she groaned, and gingerly raised herself up a bit, shook the ashes from her hand which had laid in the fire as she slept, and fished the book out of the bag.

She flipped through it to the relevant page, where Celestia’s usual, elegant writing greeted her.

Happy birthday, Sunset Shimmer.

Sunset just looked at the message for a while.

“... Oh.”

She took out a pen from her bag, and set to writing, a bit gingerly.

Thank you.

Back in Canterlot, Sunset had preferred to not make a big deal of her birthdays, and after Cadence had arrived, she preferred to not celebrate them at all.

She did relent when Celestia threw together something with a cake and some attention given to Sunset, and in return Sunset tolerated Cadence’s presence, but it was nothing compared to the lavish festivities when the pink terror had a birthday of her own.

Sunset did her best to not think of her birthdays, but now she suddenly missed them.

How are you? I’m sorry I can’t be there for you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.

It’s okay. It’s nice to talk with you anyway. No, I just woke up and I’m just

Sunset struggled with the next bit.

I’m just lying here.

The book was still for a moment.

Where?

In a playground.

Sunset thought she detected a bit more firmness to the text being formed in front of her eyes.

Sunset, have you been sleeping rough? On your own birthday?

Sunset chewed the stale saliva in her mouth and tried blinking the sleepiness from her eyes.

Celestia would scold her for this and be worried, which was bad, but she couldn’t really do anything about it, which helped. This made telling the truth feel somewhat better.

Yes. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine, I can magic myself comfo

Sunset.

I wish I could help you, but I can only offer advice and make requests, and my advice, and request, is that you go and find somewhere comfortable, and treat yourself to something nice

Well I kind of planned that anyw

I insist that you take care of yourself, and I request, most sincerely, that you always remember:

I love you.

Sunset stopped, and after a moment, realized that her vision wasn't blurry because she was still waking up.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, sniffling slightly.

I love you too.

The following words formed at a bit more hesitant pace.

Now I want you to go to treat yourself. I wish that I could be there with you, more than you can imagine, but I want you to know that I’m thinking about you.

We’ll have a cake when you come back. A big one.

Sunset smiled, and sniffed only once more.

Okay. I’d like that.

Now get going. I’ll write later.

Okay.

Sunset shut the book, and put it back in her bag, taking just a few more moments to get her emotions sorted out.

To her dismay, she realized that schadenfreude had helped motivate her to admit that she was, at least on the surface, vulnerable, uncomfortable, and worthy of sympathy.

She realized that she hoped that Celestia would think of that when the birthday, or whatever big event, surrounding Cadence came up. Or perhaps even better, that Cadence would find out and… something. Feel bad perhaps.

Sunset gingerly stood up, feeling tired, sore, cold, and guilty, when she had been hoping to feel sorry for herself.

She very reluctantly removed her Hogwarts robes, stuffed them in her bag, and immediately cast a slightly overdone heating spell on her clothes, from her shirt to her thigh high socks, which made her exude quite a lot of vapor as she walked across the playground, feeling much more comfortable, but only physically.

Bleary-eyed and unfocused, she took to wandering the streets of… wherever she had ended up.

Rows and rows of identical houses continued on in the distance, or at least that was the assumption, since one could barely see the upcoming house in this mist.

Sunset thought the morning was remarkably quiet until she realized it was just after sunrise on a saturday.

She didn’t mind being alone, at least normally, but she would’ve liked some more comfort, and something to do. She could of course conjure up mattresses and cushions to make herself comfortable, but she suspected that that would make muggles ask where she got them and why she was dragging them around. In turn, she could always use magic to slip out of their perceptions, but that would require concentration and continually looking for people to neutralize, which was suboptimal.

Sunset continued sauntering down the street, her hands held behind her head as she stretched the kinks out of her spine.

The option to just teleport into the wilds and compress soil into a little bungalow and furnish it with conjured articles was also an option, but while she could hide her magic from this magical ministry she had yet to interact with, if someone were to track her down it could lead to suspicions. Again, she could use magic to slip out of people’s thoughts, but she was concerned that would also lead to a runaway project. Again, this was suboptimal.

It was then she noticed that one of the houses had activity in front of it. A whole family by the looks of it was carrying out bags of various kinds out into their auto-vehicle, filling up the rear storage compartment.

She cast a limited perception filter on herself, and walked up to the mother, who was stacking the pile of bags in a more efficient way.

After several moments of consideration, Sunset nodded to herself.

“Going on vacation?” she asked, innocently. “If so, where and how long?”

“Yes, to our summer house in France. We plan on being there for two months,” the mother said, not even consciously aware that she was speaking with someone, until one of her children caught her attention. “Steven! Go to the bathroom before we leave, and brush your teeth,” she ordered, as she walked back into the house.

“Perfect,” Sunset said, and smiled to herself as she walked across the road and took a seat on a stone fence.

Thirty minutes later, the mist was slowly clearing, and the family’s vehicle rumbled away down the road.

Sunset hopped down from the fence and walked towards the backyard of the house whose family just left, which was obscured by a tall wooden fence, casting a cleaning and silencing spell on her boots.

The door there was child’s play to unlock with magic, but Sunset still waited on the precipice.

Was she really going to take advantage of someone else’s property?

What was her motivation? She needed a place to sleep. She wanted privacy and shelter from the elements. She certainly didn’t want to go and ask Dumbledore for help, as she suspected that might come with strings attached.

What were the cons? Perhaps it was a little undignified. A little bit amoral too.

What were the pros? She could always use her magic to clean up after herself and not leave a trace. She might even be able to help in some way.

She struggled with herself for a moment more, before reminding herself that she was an orphan without any income.

And, of course, Celestia was worried about her, and insisted that she take care of herself.

That made her take the first step into the house.

She listened carefully as she stepped into the living room, constantly wanting to aim her ears in different directions.

The large room was comfortably furnished, though with some strange devices that Sunset had never seen before. She recognized one of the communication units hanging from a slot on the wall, but the large box with the darkened window that the couch and armchairs were aimed at puzzled her.

Aside from that was a dining area, and a kitchen with a serving bar that partially separated it from the rest of the room, the only door, other than the one she had entered through, led to a hallway, with the front door on the far side, shoes and boots resting, semi-organized, on a low shelf.

Sunset kept creeping through the empty house, the bottom floor revealing a washroom with futuristic-looking laundry machines in it, two storage areas, and a closet for outer-wear.

Up the stairs was where the risk increased, Sunset felt, as it was clearly the rooms for the individual humans. Even on other planes of existence, the posters with the bold, sharp-looking fonts in chrome, and the ones with the pink hearts, kittens, and cursive writing, told her which room belonged to a colt and which one belonged to a filly.

One interesting feature was in the colt’s room, which was a poster of four lean-looking stallions (men, Sunset reminded herself) dressed in ragged clothes, sharp-looking accessories, and more importantly, very voluminous manedos, looking fiercely at the camera.

“Mmm.” Sunset found herself approving, squirming a little where she stood.

Sadly, she had a job to do, and turned back to securing the house.

Other than that there was a spare bedroom, another bathroom, and a large, carpeted room for the parents, and an attic which was clearly rarely used. A quick search through the closets also revealed enough garments to rival a true Canterlot clothes horse.

Suddenly, Sunset heard the front door click open, and cursed her luck.

The family had probably agreed to lend their house to neighbors or friends from out of town while they were away.

As the sound of footfalls rapidly ascended the stairs, she wondered if perhaps these humans had some cleverly hidden technology-based intruder-sensor she wouldn’t have been able to locate with her magic.

She dropped to her stomach, rolled under the parents’ bed, which had drapes hiding her from sight, and spied out from underneath them to the corridor at foot-level, readying a whole array of spells.

“And don’t forget your sister’s toothbrush as well!” a man’s voice called from downstairs.

The colt, boy, probably a few years older than she looked, rapidly stomped past outside, entered the bathroom, and after a moment of clinking sounds, hurried back.

“Got ‘em!” he called, and descended the stairs again.

The front door closed, followed by the sound of it locking.

Sunset stayed where she was for a moment. The carpet was fluffy and soft, and so it was a good hiding place for if they came back.

After several minutes though, Sunset carefully rolled out from underneath the bed again, and did another quick inspection of the house, before letting out a sigh of relief, and lay down on the couch in the living room, recuperating from her poor sleep that night.

She forced herself to stay awake, in case something like with the occupants happened again, but after an hour, she felt much safer.

She also felt really hungry.

A small pile of muggle money was spread around the bottom of her bag. Sunset wished she knew how much it was and how far it could get her, but she’d just have to find out.

Gathering up the notes of money, she noticed her Equestrian coins, and took one out, looking at Celestia’s serene face.

Inspecting the room around her, Sunset then looked back at the depiction of her old teacher.

“I hope you had something like this in mind.”

A sudden thought made Sunset pause, and she chuckled to herself.

“Well that and a chocolate cake. A big one,” Sunset said, and nodded to herself. “Time to find out how muggles do groceries.”

—

A human grocery store reminded Sunset more of one of Canterlot Castle’s supply cellars than the city markets in that it was clean, well-lit, sturdy, confidence-inspiringly free from odors, and perhaps a little lacking in character. It was comfortable in a sense though.

Sunset started by scouting the whole store. Past the isles with vegetables and fruits was the bread.

Sunset inspected one of the bags, mumbling to herself.

“Wheat flour, water, vegetable oil, sugar, salt, etc… sounds, uh, familiar.”

The food in the wizarding world had been largely what she was familiar with from being a pony, with a few notable differences like animals, both land and aquatic ones, and a lack of hay, and it seemed like muggles ate the same things that witches and wizards did.

And so the fridges with the meat were something Sunset was curious about.

“What is a ‘beef’ anyway?”

She walked slowly through the aisle, her eyes scanning the little transparent plastic boxes in the glass fridges, when she noticed the sign for exactly that; Beef.

When she saw the outline of a cow on the package, she paused.

“... Uhm…”

She looked around, but the hour was still early, and not many muggles were shopping.

Sunset walked to the most quiet corner of the grocery store she could find, and pulled out her old encyclopedia out of her bag, starting with the one covering the letter “B”.

A few minutes later, she had gone from beef, to cows, which had not included any mention of sapience. That had led her to look up ponies, which was a subsection of horses, and had a picture.

The feral, clumsy-looking animal was looking into the camera, not comprehending.

Sunset looked at the picture for a long while. A distant relative, genetically speaking? Maybe. But she couldn’t see any real kinship with the creature.

She closed the book.

“It’s just shapes,” she said to herself. “If a human came to Equestria and turned into a pony, she wouldn’t freak out when learning that there were unintelligent primates in the world.”

She decided to give meat a miss for now though. The chefs at Hogwarts knew what they were doing. She’d let them handle cooking that.

An hour later, Sunset was walking through the house she was… borrowing, looking through the windows from all positions indoors and checking which ones needed to have the curtains drawn to keep the neighbors from seeing her. Luckily, the tall wooden fence meant that the ground floor was entirely safe, and so was most of the backyard.

The technology-based stove was something she decided to learn some other time, but the pots and pans were, thankfully, of the traditional kind.

A short while later, she had finished a big bowl of vegetable stew, and was slicing up a chocolate cake with strawberries, singing a birthday song to herself in Equestrian, and was surprised at how much better she was feeling.

The mysterious box demanded attention though. Taking a large slice of cake in her mouth, she got up and bent down in front of it.

Five of the six sides were patterned plastic, and one side, the one aimed at the couch, was glass, with a half-opened panel hiding an array of buttons next to it.

Sunset hesitated, and decided to press the biggest one.

A low burst of distorted sound shot out of a set of speakers hidden beneath the patterned plastic, and after a burst of light, a woman in a suit appeared in the window, looking at Sunset with a stack of papers in her hands.

“And in other news, the dismantling of the Berlin Wall continues,” she said.

“What!?” Sunset yelled, falling back on her behind and spraying the carpet with chocolate cake.

The woman inside the box continued, undisturbed, having just mentioned that someone was at… whatever site she was talking about, with more information.

“Hello?” Sunset said, wiping the crumbles of cake from her mouth.

Suddenly, instantly, and without ceremony, the woman, and the entire room she had been in, was replaced by an outdoor, urban scene, where a man with a black, fuzzy stick was suddenly staring at Sunset instead.

“That is correct, Janet. As you can see, the demolition is still ongoing, this is good timing as there is currently not a lot of noise, this being a lunch break.”

“Who are you?” Sunset ventured. “What happened to the other one?”

The man obviously had a job to do, because he ignored Sunset and briskly moved on to present another person, standing next to him.

“... with some locals making sure to benefit from this still on-going event,” he said, and moved the fuzzy stick closer to the face of another man, who nodded in confirmation.

“Ja, zhere iz a lot of people who come to zee the dismantling,” he said, in what Sunset swore was a Greifenhausian accent.

“Und wer bist du?” Sunset tried, but he was more interested in talking about his pub.

“... so it became zomesing of a trend to vatch zhe vall come down while having a drink. Zhere’s less parking space right now, but to me, it’z vorth it.”

“Haaalloooo? Können Sie mich höööreeen?”

Suddenly, the room with the woman came back. She was still there, looking out the window. “Thank you, Robert, and prost from the UK to the people of Berlin. And now, the weather, with–”

“What’s going… oh,” Sunset said, and looked behind her.

There was no projector there, but she was already grasping the concept.

She stood up as another human, presumably a muggle, showed a map of the British Isles, with little pictures of suns and rain clouds showing what the weather was predicted to be in the coming days.

“Huh,” Sunset said to herself, not having thought about how if no one could control the weather, naturally there’d be people who would have to predict it and share the predictions.

As the human described the weather, Sunset inspected the rest of the box, looking at it, listening to it, and sniffing it.

There were no moving parts as far as Sunset could see though.

If she had owned the box, she would have been more willing to prod and poke it, but as things were, she would stick to just using it in the way she was, which she was fairly certain was its intended purpose.

That jungle of black and gray cables behind the device was also quite intimidating.

“That’s really cool,” she said, and nodded to herself.

After a few more moments of inspection, Sunset sat down on the couch with a spellbook, and noticed that the excited, but oh so boring discussion of sports that followed the weather analysis reminded her of her classmates around the Gryffindor dinner table, providing a blanket of chatter that helped her drown out the world as she went through more third year spells.

With a chocolate cake, a comfortable couch, and some study material, Sunset felt a lot better than she had this morning. A good night’s sleep and all would be well again.

However, the single-unit projector box proved quite the distraction. It turned out it had different programs organized by time slots, and near the evening, Sunset at first scoffed as she looked up from her book, eyebrow raised at the silly-looking puppets dancing very unconvincingly across the screen, but then the song started.

“♫It’s time to play the music! It’s time to light the lights!♪

♪It’s time to meet the muppets on The Muppet Show tonight!♫”

Sunset found herself tapping along with her foot, and a, to start with, uncertain smile slowly grew on her face.

There was no more studying done that night.

—

Sunset played it safe the first two nights, and slept underneath the double bed upstairs, hidden from view. But no threat appeared, no people walked in through the door, and no one would have found her snoring on the couch and called the city guard while she was asleep.

She was also careful with the lights, so that the neighbors wouldn’t notice that there was someone in the house. Luckily, the days lasted longer in the summer, which gave her plenty of daylight hours to work with.

With a bit of discipline, she forced herself to go outside, which was easier now that the sun was shining, unlike the last two days which had been cold and rainy for the middle of summer.

And it was pretty nice feeling the fresh, outdoors air again.

Sunset walked in a semi-coherent pattern in the afternoon sun, having stuffed everything in her bag again and carrying it with her in case someone came to the house while she was away.

A part of her felt it was unworthy to be skulking around in other people’s houses when they were away, but that part was almost completely silenced by necessity, and replaced by a feeling of excitement and nervousness.

It was fun, in a sense, but she’d also be glad to be back at Hogwarts, even though she’d miss some of the muggle inventions. Particularly that pinnacle of technology-based entertainment, the interactive excitement box, the little adventure-engine, the Super Nintendo.

Past houses, playgrounds, parks, transportation-stops, and small businesses, Sunset walked, her stroll punctuated by the occasional nod and “hello” to people out strolling as well, or walking their dogs.

“Oi, find a rock or something,” a voice sounded from a little ways away.

“No way, D! People will know it’s us,” another voice said.

“You stupid? We don’t go here anymore,” the first voice said.

Sunset climbed a small set of cobblestone stairs in the shade of some trees to reach a fenced-in area, with a large building, with wings, playgrounds, and empty stands for those two-wheeled vehicles she had seen around.

Sunset recognized it as a school, empty during the summer.

A small ways away, in front of a glass door, stood a collection of boys, and Sunset could smell, and gag at, the scent of nervous bravado even from where she stood.

These boys were scared, and had been for so long that it was as if their scent had been permanently discolored.

Not even Neville smelled like that.

The largest one, an obese example, pointed at a sign on a utility hatch with a picture of a lightning bolt that read ‘No Entry Allowed’ and said, “take that down.”

One of the other boys, one with a permanently scrunched up face, chuckled. “A’roigh, why?”

“I want it.”

The scrunched up boy brought an abused multi-tool out of his pocket, and started stabbing at the small space between the sign and the hatch.

“Heh, remember when we chased your cousin through the swings?” another one, with a very ape-like posture, said.

“I remember you missin’ him with the swings and hitting y’self ‘stead,” the boy with the tool interjected.

“Little git’s bloody quick,” one said. “Where he at, if he ain’t at Smeltings?”

“St, Brutus’ Centre For Criminally Incu… Incubat… Insecurable Boys,” the obese one said.

“Shame. Good for a lark.”

“Oi! Someone’s comin!” a runty specimen said, as he spotted Sunset casually strolling up to them.

Scrunchy-boy let go of his tool, still lodged in between the sign and the hatch, as the group turned around to see Sunset.

“Who-oi! Whatchu wan’ then?” ape-boy said.

Sunset shrugged. “I’dunno. I just thought it would be fun to see you get electrified from that,” she said, nodding to the utility hatch.

Sunset had spent an hour inspecting all the muggle tools in the house she was in, amazed by how much electricity was running through the building, and how safe it was, assuming you didn’t stab at the boxes containing the arcane arrangements with a blunt tool of course.

Not that the boys were in any danger from what they were doing specifically, but Sunset felt it could be a good idea, and fun too, to let them think otherwise.

“Yeah? Who you den?” scrunchy-boy demanded.

“Sunset. You?”

“Whu?” the obese one said.

“Sunset. That’s my name. You?”

The boys tried to straighten out their posture and unfold themselves to greater stature, which didn’t really have much effect, as they seemed to collapse in other areas in proportion.

The obese one spoke up instead. “‘M Big D, this is Piers, Den, Mal, Gor,” he said, indicating the others.

“Right.” Sunset nodded, and looked expectantly at Piers, the one with the tool. “Well go on, Piers, Big D, the rest of you, I’m expecting a show.”

“Oi who do you think you are?” one of them, Gordon, Sunset thought, said.

“Sunset, remember?”

But the so-called Big D just put a placating hand in front of Gordon, and nodded to Piers.

“Yeah, ain’t no trouble,” Piers said, and started stabbing and bending at the ‘No Entry Allowed’ sign again.

It was almost a shame that the sun was bright and lively in the sky, an amused Sunset thought, as she put her hands behind her back and balanced back and forth on the balls of her feet while she prepared an illusion.

Suddenly, there was a bang and a bright light, or so it seemed to the boys, that shot from the metal hatch, momentarily engulfing the metal tool that Piers was holding.

He jumped back with a startled cry, dropping the tool from his hands, and himself onto his rear, as his friends took a step back in surprise.

“Ah! Aaaah! It got me!” he shouted, looking at his absolutely unaffected hand with terrified eyes.

Sunset was chuckling to herself, as Piers stumbled to his feet, and staggeringly ran away in a panic-like state.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Big D said, and started a sort of waddling jog after Piers.

His friends gave Sunset a look of equal amounts terror and impressedness as she smiled at them, and then hurried after their friend.

Sunset thought that maybe she had misjudged them ever so slightly, if they were actually concerned for their friend.

“Thank you!” Sunset called after them.

Sunset walked up to the dropped tool, and picked it up.

It was a pair of foldable pliers and cutters combined, with small tools folding into the handle, like a knife, a little saw, a small pair of scissors, and screwdrivers.

“Cool.”

She looked around to make sure she was alone, and then waved her fingers at it, channeling a quite impressive wizarding spell, which smoothed out the dents in the metal from careless use.

Sunset pocketed the multitool, and sauntered on with a pleased smile on her face, having prevented minor vandalism, and hopefully taught a group of children to respect electricity.

“Helping people is fun.”

Author's Notes:

I've never been to the UK, so I've guessed and assumed a bunch of things about the place, and what the suburbs there look like.

Back Amongst Lions

The days rolled on for Sunset Shimmer as she spent hours every day on the muggle couch, resting, eating, studying, researching on their coffee table, and entertaining herself.

The arrangement had whole arrays of pros and cons to weigh, which made it all feel fairly unusual. Among the negative aspects was that she always had to keep a low profile. She did so at Hogwarts as well of course, but at least there she could stroll around mostly freely and not sneak out of the backdoor, and only when she was certain no one was watching. Interestingly she was able to use her unicorn magic much more freely than at Hogwarts, as magic without wands were rare phenomena for witches and wizards that she did not want to reveal to them that she could do.

She wasn’t completely isolated, with people on the street casually greeting her, that Arabella woman asking her how she was doing every time they walked by each other, and of course she could write to Celestia. Not to mention that Sunset was used to long periods of time spent isolated in a study and researching away. Even so, she had to admit that at times she was perhaps, hard as it was to imagine, feeling a little lonely.

Sunset was also never able to get truly comfortable and really let her guard down. She kept all her possessions she wasn’t actively using in her shoulder bag, always ready to grab it and disappear.

But there were good parts too. The muggles had entertainment aplenty, and some magical scrying also revealed that the water outlet for the muggle family’s garden hose had a defect far inside the wall which could easily get a lot worse, an expensive and complicated affair to address for those without magic, which Sunset fixed for them and felt a lot better about the whole thing. She also refreshed the high wooden fence where rot had started setting in, hardening it without needing oil or other treatment to make it last for several more years.

Her potions research was also coming along nicely, especially when the people on the television, which was a term she had learned, talked sport, as she found chatter that she didn’t need to listen to strangely comfortable at times, like around the Gryffindor table in the great hall. She had studied several potions that were of the level of several years ahead of where she was expected to be, and like she usually did, she tried alternative, more effective ways to make them, and jotted down her results in the margins of her potions books. However, it was quite costly when it came to supplies, so eventually, her potion studies ground to a halt.

Sunset also refrained from invading the muggles’ private space too much. She didn’t look more in the family’s private rooms, and mostly kept to the couch and the kitchen, but they had left some magazines out. One of them was a strange example, and after some confusion, Sunset figured out it was a collection of advertisements.

Some of them taught Sunset new terms, and after some research with her set of encyclopedias, learned some more information about human clothes and their functions. Especially undergarments, which was something that Sunset was missing several years of experience with.

And so Sunset found herself walking through a drizzle down the streets of Little Whinging, when Arabella called out to her from her garden.

“Hello! Sunset!” she said, waving to her from behind a currant bush, clad in a plastic robe and a sou'wester.

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Figg,” Sunset called back, trying not to seem sufficiently stand-offish, having learned her name from her mailbox.

“What are you doing out in the rain?” she asked, walking up to the waist-high wooden fence separating them.

Sunset shrugged. “I was just gonna do some shopping.”

“But you’re going to get soaked,” Arabella protested.

“I actually find it refreshing,” Sunset noted.

Arabella shook her head to herself. “May I ask what you’re going to be shopping for?” she asked.

“Uh, clothes.”

Arabella nodded. “I see. Well, why don’t you come in and have a cup until it stops raining? So your new clothes don’t get wet. I’ve put the kettle on, it’s enough for two.”

Sunset raised her eyebrows slightly, but just shrugged. “Well, alright,” she said. She had declined several times already, and it was starting to seem rude.

“Oh, good. Come on inside, dear,” Arabella said, and opened the gate to her house and encouraged Sunset to follow her.

She led Sunset into her house, which was practically the same in terms of layout as the place she was occupying, but the decor was quite different.

Whereas the other house was bright and relatively free of decorations, Arabella’s walls were a dark green that ate much of the light spilling in from the windows, with the abundance of decorations, trinkets, and various paraphernalia eating the rest. A jungle of little vases, small tables with odd decorations, and paintings, greeted Sunset when she entered, as well as the overwhelming smell of cats. Not so much the cats themselves as their kibble and their litter boxes.

“Do come in,” Arabella encouraged Sunset, and let her into the kitchen and lounge. “Feel free to sit down.”

A large armchair was the most free space available, and Arabella put down a teacup and saucer in front of Sunset, pouring from a cast iron pot into it.

“Milk? Sugar?”

“Please,” Sunset said.

Arabella joined her in turning her tea into liquid candy, and sat down opposite her.

“So, how has summer been treating you so far?”

“Pretty good,” Sunset said, as a cat started rubbing himself against her leg. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m doing as well as I always am. Seen anything interesting this summer?”

Sunset idly rubbed the cheek of the tomcat after it had jumped up into her lap, while another took his place down by her legs. “Well, yes, but I’m fascinated by the strangest things.” Sunset had learned from the television that muggles were so comfortable with their inventions that they took them for granted.

Arabella took a sip of her tea, which made Sunset feel a lot more easy about doing the same. Not that she really believed that there was something unwholesome in it.

“Mmm. So do you learn a lot from school?”

Sunset managed to grasp a decent deflection on the first try. “Yeah, you know, the skills you need in life, but I suspect it’s also about teaching you teamwork and social skills, which are only partially learned in the classroom.”

‘And which Hogwarts probably actively works against,’ Sunset thought to herself.

A third cat jumped up into Sunset’s lap, and a fourth one was suddenly standing with her front paws on Sunset’s head and her hind paws on the backrest. She had to put the teacup down in order to pet them all, as they rubbed their cheeks against every inch of Sunset between looking out the window.

“So do you get what you want out of your education?”

That made Sunset pause, and wonder why she had never been asked this by her teachers.

“That’s… always hard to say,” she ventured. “But I hope it will in the end. Hands crossed.”

“... You mean fingers crossed?”

“Uh, yes, of course,” Sunset said, surrounded by cat purrs.

Arabella looked at Sunset for a moment, as the younger girl stared out the window while idly scratching the chins of her beloved cats.

“How long have you been in Little Whinging?”

“I met you the day I arrived,” Sunset said. “So that long.”

“Oh. Well, have you made any friends yet?”

For a fleeting moment, Sunset wondered if this woman wasn’t a projection that Celestia had managed to send through the planes of existence.

“No, I’ve uh… mostly kept to myself,” Sunset said, feeling something sting somewhere inside her, but she couldn’t figure out why. And it wasn’t even a cat sharpening a claw on her.

Arabella nodded, with what Sunset felt was a very guarded expression on her face. “Understandable. There’s no need to involve yourself with people if you don’t want to.”

Sunset felt confident in dismissing the possibility that Arabella was a creation of Celestia.

“I guess I ran into some boys a while back?”

“Boys?”

“Yeah. Five of them. They were messing around at a school. Not the brightest bunch.”

“Ah. I see. They didn’t give you any trouble then, I hope?”

Sunset shook her head, making the cat on her shoulder glare at her. “Not really.”

“Good. There’s no need to involve yourself with those boys,” Arabella said. Her voice was neutral on the surface, but there was a tiny hint of venom below it.

Sunset had idly wondered what grade of troublemakers they had been, which this was something of an indication of.

She hadn’t been worried though. With her superior physical capabilities, not to mention her magic, they couldn’t actually have hurt or even inconvenienced her in any real way.

“Don’t worry, I’m not interested,” Sunset assured her, again staring out the window along with the cats.

“Ah, the weather is clearing up,” Arabella noted, seeing the sun peeking out from behind the passing rain cloud.

“Yes. I should probably get going,” Sunset said, and started lifting cats from herself, not wanting to miss the effect of the rays shimmering in the freshly fallen rain on the leaves and grass.

“Well thank you for your company, Sunset. Do feel free to stop by any time,” Arabella said, brightly.

Sunset paused, not knowing how to react to that (which gave the cats another chance to jump up in her lap).

“Thank you,” she said, standing up with two cats in each arm, and setting them down gently on the floor. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Not to worry, and good luck in school,” Arabella said, accepting a cat that had jumped up and climbed up Sunset’s skirt as she had walked outside.

“Thank you,” Sunset said again, and walked on towards the settlement’s center.

—

After some longer-than-anticipated experiments and research, Sunset had figured out the mysteries of women’s undergarments, and also felt confident she could magically adjust their size and prevent wear and tear, so she didn’t have to go through that again.

Back at the muggle house, she checked the calendar and the clock again. It was nearing two months since she had moved in, and while a part of her was worried about when she had to bail, another part wished to get it over with so she could spend some time in some other place than the living room couch without intruding more than she already had.

A quick repair spell cast on the family’s refrigerator to stop it from making a strange sound was the last favor she did them before planning on moving on. She only wanted to look into one intriguing video cartridge first.

Even with their accurate and high-fidelity video capture technology, the muggles appreciated drawn animation. The movie was about one who might be the last of her kind, and her quest to find others like her.

The protagonist was perhaps a little delicate, Sunset felt, but the subject matter intrigued her.

One timeless creature had just freed another, the first fair and ethereal, the other a foul monster.

“Don’t look back, and don’t run,” the protagonist said. “You must never run from anything immortal, it attracts their attention.”

“Huh?” Sunset said, and was about to start asking the television questions, like she did months ago, before she thought more about that statement.

It was true. She had run away from Celestia, whereupon she had gotten much more attention from her.

And the more she tried avoiding Cadence, the more Cadence tried to spend time with her.

The events on the screen in front of her were fiction, true, but what spawned the tale? Where did the characters and what they claim come from? Intuition? Imagination? Experience?

Was it in Celestia’s nature to pay attention to Sunset after she ran away? Could she not help it? Did she realize it? Was it all because of some cosmic mandate?

Sunset shook her head. It was all a coincidence. Probably.

“No, I cannot turn you into something you are not,” the protagonist said, in response to something her new friend said.

“... But he can do it himself, I hope is what you mean,” Sunset said.

The story continued, with twists and turns and mysteries abound.

Then, the villain appeared. If that was what he truly was, gloomy and dour as he was. Still, he had the bearing of a true dark lord. Regal, intimidating, and able to capture Sunset’s ear and attention with his voice alone.

When accused of being cold-hearted for wanting to do what he felt was right, and only caring about his magic, the wizard among them had angrily shouted that he wished he only cared about his magic, but that wasn’t true.

In the end, their task was done, and the world was set right, but as with any long journey, all involved felt both elation and hardships, their hearts both wounded and soothed.

Perhaps it was just because it had given her several new ideas to think about, but Sunset wanted a long walk. She cleaned out all traces, except for the small repairs, of her ever having been in the house, and slipped out of the backdoor.

She wandered through the orange light of the low, setting sun, her mind on a journey of its own, when she finally found herself standing near a bus station (another useful term she had picked up from the “telly”), and got an idea in her head. An idea attractive in its plainness.

A much more friendly and concerned driver than last time accepted her payment for a trip back to London, and Sunset stared blankly at him when he expressed concern for her mental and physical well-being, before she realized that, if you only craned your neck and squinted just a little bit, she would seem kind of waif-ish.

She chuckled, and assured him with a smile and a thanks, and took a seat.

Halfway out of Surrey, she noticed a flying car zooming off to the west, high in the sky.

“Wow, I’ve been observant, haven’t I?” she said to herself with a small smile, and leaned back into the seat.

—

The door to the Leaky Cauldron wasn’t locked, and Sunset stepped in to see the light even more dim than usual, with Tom the innkeep being the only other soul in the dining and bar area, looking up at Sunset with a look of concerned surprise on his face, cleaning out a mug with a rag.

“Good evening, Mister Tom,” Sunset said.

“Aye, evenin’, Miss Shimma’.”

“This is a bit of a short notice, but do you have a room vacant?” Sunset said, as she moved towards the bar.

She frowned slightly to herself when she realized this should’ve been a stormy night, and she should’ve been removing a rain-heavy traveling cloak with a confident flourish.

Oh well. Some other time perhaps.

“Aye, Miss Shimma’,” Tom said, smiling as he held his arms out invitingly to the stairs. “Same one as las’ toime. Will the school be coverin’ it?”

Sunset shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Don’t worry though,” she said, and held up a pair of gold galleons between her fingers. “I’m good for it.”

Tom nodded. “Aye. Will ye be wantin’ some suppa’?”

Sunset considered this, and nodded. “Yes, thank you. Something simple. Tea and some bread.”

“Hrm… bread’s stale, miss. Don’ feel roight charging ye fer for warm water wi’ some leaves.”

Sunset shrugged. “Don’t then, because I was wondering if I could help out in the kitchen, to help cover my bills.”

Tom raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m not a good enough cook to serve guests, and I’m not experienced in housekeeping, but I’m pretty sure I can make cutlery sparkle.”

Tom considered Sunset for a moment, then nodded. “Aye.”

—

Tom’s toothless grin, and his way of speaking, might’ve been off-putting to a highborn young mare like Sunset, but she found him to be a big sweetheart.

Highborn in a sense at least. In some places in Canterlot you couldn’t throw a horseshoe without hitting one of the “common nobility”- a pony distantly related, or not, to a faded noble line, or several, who made no claims and had no interest in the aristocracy, especially when everypony around them could say the same.

Tom had Sunset “help out” in the kitchen, a greasy, smokey, and in places charred, place, with cast-iron stoves, cupboards, and basins of soap-y water, with doors and trap doors leading to larders, and of course barrel-filled cellars.

Tom managed to cook food, serve drinks, clean dishes, and care for his rooms, all by himself, and keep a cheerful disposition.

Still, he seemed to like Sunset helping out, especially with her working quite fast and efficiently with magic when no one was looking.

He reminded Sunset of a unicorn with an earth pony’s disposition. Many saw unicorns as being the primary scholars of Equestria, studying magics and stars in towers, and if not that, then clerks, or tradesponies in relatively “clean” trades, such as hairdressers.

Some, though, led a lifestyle more like a typical earth pony, farming, or doing hooves-on work, with or without magic, like running an inn.

Tom was much like that to Sunset, using magic to do his labor.

“Don’ know how ye do it, lass,” he said, as Sunset pulled out the last plate from the, unknown to Tom, scalding hot water of the washbasin, polished to a mirror sheen.

“You just have to beware of the elbow grease,” Sunset said, nodding at the water pouring down the old pipe with a slurping sound, leaving only soap suds behind. “The grease goes there, not on elbows.”

Tom laughed at Sunset’s intentionally bad joke. “Well yeo’ve done enough f’ t’day, lassie. Ye be on ya way now. Dinna’s at foive.”

“Looking forward to it,” she said, and exited the kitchen.

Her daily chores were so short she had to use magic to get anything done. Tom didn’t seem comfortable keeping her at work for more than a few hours per day.

Sunset made sure that she still had muggle money in her bag when she entered the same cafe she entered almost a year ago, where the same muggle woman stood behind the same counter.

“Oh, don’t I recognize you, dearie?” she said. “Oh that’s right! California.”

Sunset just felt pleased with her ability to now blend in with muggles that she just smiled as she took a seat.

“The very same. Tea and blueberry muffins, please,” Sunset said, and noticed that there was a television set aimed at the customers, currently turned off. She glanced at the clock, and aimed a finger at the telly. “Oh, and speaking of California, can we turn that on?”

The muggle glanced at the clock herself, and gave Sunset a confirming smile. “Oh he is ever so good, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Sunset said, as the screen came alive before the woman retrieved the drink and pastry.

In front of her, her new hero appeared on screen.

The most relentless bloodhound the forces of order and justice had ever seen calmly sauntered along the luxurious surroundings.

Evil has been done, and not with strength, but with cunning the likes of which lesser people cannot even comprehend, the champion of the wronged stepped up to the challenge.

Sunset figured that it was all pretend, but she didn’t know if she was disappointed or relieved from thinking that.

But it wasn’t his indomitable and highly successful pursuit of justice that made Sunset admire him. It was that no one saw these traits when looking at him. No one knew what they were seeing when they looked at him.

The short man on the screen fumbled for his wallet, and spoke around the bundle of dried leaves in his mouth.

“Uh… Lieutenant... mm… Columbo… Homicide.”

Sunset’s eyes were glued to the screen, as her tea was put in front of her.

—

One morning shortly after arriving at the Cauldron, Tom had a letter to Sunset, from Hogwarts, containing her list of necessary school supplies and such.

She could’ve used her partially accidentally ill-gotten funds to buy it all ahead of time, but buying all before she supposedly had money to afford might raise suspicions.

“Tha’s lookin’ awfully hot there, lass,” Tom said, looking down at the scalding hot water with Sunset’s hands submerged in it, as she cleaned the plates. “Wonderin’ ‘bou’ maybe givin ye a raise if ye ‘ave t’ work like tha’.”

Sunset, of course, could rest her hands in bonfires. Warm dishwater was of little concern to her.

She raised an eyebrow in Tom’s direction. “Have you gotten a letter from Professor Dumbledore, or McGonagall?” she asked.

The old innkeeper squirmed a little where he stood, looking awkward.

Sunset shrugged. “You can if you want, but I’ll be working harder if you do.”

“Is jus’… Oi hear books ’re gonna be expensive this year.”

Ah yes, that Gilderoy Lockhart figure. Sunset tried not to judge books by their covers, which the title was arguably a part of, and the titles were awful.

“I’ve done the math,” Sunset assured him, having repurposed the back of an old transfiguration essay to balance her income with the cost of the books and other sundries.

Inspiration suddenly struck Sunset.

“Arh, well, tha’s good t’ hear. Ye look all done now, lassie, so ye just take tha’ plate on the counter there and hand it to the boy by the table, then ye’re done for t’day.”

“Thank you,” Sunset said, and wiped her scrunched up fingers on a towel before doing as instructed.

She walked up to the older boy sitting by the table, looking out the grimy window at the muggles passing by, and set the plate of steaming hot food in front of him.

“Here we are. Enjoy,” Sunset said, making the boy look up at her, slightly startled.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, and looked at her. “Uhm… don’t you go to Hogwarts?”

Sunset took in the boy’s appearance, and the first thing that came to mind was whether his hair was naturally layered with a wild lock sticking out above his forehead, or if he was just really good at making it seem natural.

“That’s right,” she said. “Do you?”

“I do,” he said, smiled, and held out a hand. “Cedric Diggory.”

Sunset politely shook his hand, and nodded. “Sunset Shimmer.”

“Oh that’s right. I’ve heard about you. You’re that Gryffindor girl who keeps making Professor Snape so angry. I hear you’re really good.”

“At making Professor Snape angry?” Sunset said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I mean… Well, that too, but I meant magic. Uh, please, have a seat,” Cedric offered.

Sunset accepted the invitation, trying not to frown at this development. “Thanks. Who… is saying that I’m good at magic?”

“Well uh… everyone, I guess.” Cedric shrugged.

“Everyone?”

“Uh… The collective ‘they’, I guess.”

Sunset wondered how that rumor came to be, considering that Sunset suspected that Hermione’s right arm was longer than her left one, considering how much she stretched it waving it around every time a teacher asked a question.

“Uhuh. Well don’t believe everything you heard,” Sunset said, and gestured at the plate she brought out. “Don’t let me keep you from eating.”

“Oh, right,” Cedric said, and started cutting into the fried fish. “So… why are you serving food in The Leaky Cauldron?”

Sunset wondered why she didn’t feel more defensive at this personal inquiry, and figured that maybe she was just feeling soft today.

“Just trying to make ends meet,” she said, and shrugged.

“Hah!” a girl suddenly shrieked loudly from right next to Sunset and Cedric, making both of them jump in their seats.

They looked up to see a bitter-looking girl pointing a finger at Sunset with a look of triumph on her face. “You’re just a waitress! Wait ‘til I tell him!”

The loud girl turned on her heel and walked out towards Diagon Alley, in a fast and spirited march.

Sunset and Cedric spent a long moment looking at the exit to the back of the inn.

“Who was that?” Cedric asked, mirroring Sunset’s thoughts exactly.

“No idea.”

“Okay? Strange. Uh, anyway, so uh… what’s your favorite subject?”

Sunset blinked, grateful that he brought them back to sensible subjects so readily.

“Hmm, Good question. Charms and transfigurations are… comfortable, for me, but I like learning about potions. You?”

“Surprised you like potions,” Cedric noted, with a wry smile. “We had potions after you last year, and we could tell. Anyway, I think charms too, and flying of course, even though we only had that the first year.”

“Ah, well, bummer I guess, only having it for one year.”

Cedric smiled easily. “Yeah, but you know, I get to fly anyway.”

Sunset cocked her head at him. “Why?”

“I’m… on the quidditch team. The Hufflepuff quidditch team,” Cedric pointed out.

“What? Oh, oh yeah,” Sunset said, as some memories came back to her. “I remember now.”

Sunset started looking for a way to extricate herself from this conversation. She didn’t feel very guarded right now, and she was talking with one of the cunning Hufflepuffers. Maybe that’s why she didn’t feel very guarded? Was Cedric just that good at drawing information out of people? It would make sense.

They were suddenly interrupted once more, this time by a brown-haired man with an unkempt beard sitting down with a loud thump next to Cedric.

“What’s this then?” he said, and put his arms around Cedric’s shoulder, and chuckled at him. “We leave our Ced alone for one minute and already the girls are flocking around him.”

Cedric tensed up like a rookie guard ordered to stand outside Celestia’s private chambers, and looked down at the floor.

“That’s not it,” he said.

“Isn’t it?” the man said, incredulously. “It certainly looks that way.”

Cedric cleared his throat. “Uh, Sunset, this is my… dad, Amos.”

Sunset held out a hand, with an utterly neutral expression. “Charmed.”

“Yes, there’s a lot of charm around here,” Amos said, and shook Sunset’s hand. “And I know where it comes from.”

“Da’,” Cedric hissed, warningly.

“Well, there’s no use denying it. I mean, it’s not the first girl you’ve had come up to you–”

Cedric suddenly stood up. “It was really nice meeting you, Sunset,” he said, loudly, but with genuine politeness. “Perhaps we can talk more in school?”

Sunset, also quite willing to end the conversation, stood up and nodded. “Yes, that might be best,” she said, and walked up the stairs to her room.

Sunset distracted herself by going over her finances one more time, which reminded her of her plan she had come up with earlier, but which had almost been lost thanks to the conversation with Cedric.

She penned a letter, tucked it in her sleeve, and made a quick detour to the wizarding postal office before bed.

The next day, Sunset woke up to the sound of a desperate-looking owl, panting softly as it tapped on her window.

She quickly got up and eased the heavy load from the grateful bird.

“Sorry about that,” she said, and filled the wash basin with water, then opened the heavy package as the owl descended on the refreshment.

Inside was a set of every book required for her second year, the Gilderoy Lockhart ones new and shiny, the other ones less so to a varying degree.

Honorable Madam.

We find your terms agreeable and are pleased to conduct this transaction. As a favor of goodwill, you will find your requested articles included in this parcel, whereas we will accept your end of the bargain when we meet in person, or at least one part of it.

Half the price, and one favor.

Yours
Fred and George Weasley.

ps: Do not tell anyone about this. Mum has ears everywhere.

Sunset smirked. Fred and George did everything as one. They even read at exactly the same pace. Why have more than one set of books?

Sunset, relieved, sat down with her new books to try and distract herself from the conversation with the elder Diggory.

And they certainly did that.

She was also starting to suspect that not paying full price for them was a good idea.

—

A set of Hogwarts school uniforms floated above Sunset in bed, while a bolt of black cloth was being magically cannibalized to provide more fabric for the getup, making it larger and undoing the wear and tear.

The magic fed the uniform until it was better than when she had received it, leaving only half a bolt.

Sunset glanced at the old clock on the far side of the room, and stood up, magically floating her uniforms down into her bag, and slinging it over her shoulder.

It was still early, but Sunset had decided that this was a good time to leave anyway. Her stay at The Leaky Cauldron had further hammered home what a small community the British magical world was. From experience, Sunset could travel to King’s Cross in moments, but she didn’t want Tom, and any people he might talk to, to know that.

She walked down into the dining area, where her employer, sort of, was already standing behind the bar.

“Leavin’ fer school, lassie?”

“Yep. Thanks for everything, Mister Tom,” she said, smiling at him.

He chuckled to himself. “I shou’ be thankin’ you, lassie. Fine work, says I.”

Sunset gave Tom an abashed smile. “Don’t mention it then. Can I have a sandwich to go?”

“Aye.”

She waved goodbye to Tom, and exited the door towards the streets of London, walking down the sidewalk towards the train station, chewing on her simple breakfast.

Then, of course, she ducked into an alley, and a short while later, walked out of another alley, much closer to the station.

Stepping through the barrier towards the magical train station leading to Hogwarts, Sunset found herself alone, except for the operators on the train.

As before, steam spewed out of the red locomotive, blanketing the station, or the magical section of it, in fog.

It was quite cozy, actually, sitting alone in fog thick enough to make her difficult to spot, and even more to identify, to whoever would arrive next.

Still committed to her mission, Sunset nevertheless felt that she had developed a bit more patience during this past year. Her correspondence with Celestia had been a great balm, dispelling a lot of the bitterness regarding her goal, and so her pursuit lost a lot of the angry energy she had felt before.

Even so, there was a lot of pent up potency inside Sunset Shimmer. She was still determined to keep her true nature hidden from the wizarding world. After a year of laying low at school, Sunset had, perhaps foolishly, expected to be able to temporarily cast aside the restrictive cloak of incognito she shrouded herself in.

Her tower in Canterlot Castle was a marvelous, dizzying flux of magical projects and research. Tables and workstations were covered in enchanted crystals and alchemical instruments bubbling away. Pegasi were advised to stay floor-bound when Sunset was there, for the air was thick with floating tomes and grimoires as Sunset reclined in the air, hovering between bookshelves and endless piles of paper rolls spread out across wall, floor, and ceiling, covered in arcane scripts and notes.

Now, Sunset had a book.

It was freeing, in a sense, not having her old research available and being forced to stay modest, and therefore more focused, in her research, but it was also frustrating to keep herself… “normal”, her capabilities hidden.

Now it was back to school again.

At least she’d have a whole year of magical training as an excuse, if anyone were to notice her skills.

She figured that she must have dozed off, as to her, it seemed that only moments later dozens of shapes were moving close to the train.

People were arriving through the magical barrier, forming clumps of children and parents, talking, fuzzing, hugging, and crying.

Sunset sauntered onto the train, idly wondering if she would’ve hugged Celestia or cried into her dress if she was here right now, moment of reunion notwithstanding.

She opened the door to the first compartment she walked past, which was empty, and she plopped down onto the much more comfortable couch and put her boot-clad feet up on the opposite seat, making her boots shimmeringly clean with a wave of her hand.

She rested her hands behind her head, and closed her eyes.

The chatter continued outside, with some of it moving onto the train.

The door to the compartment opened, and Sunset picked up the scent of two young girls standing nervously in the doorway.

“Uhm… excuse me, is this seat taken?” a meek voice said.

“Nope,” Sunset said, not opening her eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go,” the other whispered. They carefully closed the door again, and moved on.

Sunset Shimmer, Grandmaster Arcanist of the Golden Towers, knew she looked cool, really cool, with her outfit and confidence where she sat.

Her posture sagged a little however, when she decided that yes, she would’ve given up her coolness for the chance to hug Celestia and perhaps cry a little into her dress.

The quiet and authoritative dignity that came from not having anyone to do so with was her consolation prize.

And to be honest, it was a consolation.

… Just not right now.

The door opened again, revealing the scent of another young girl.

Sunset opened her eyes to see a blonde girl with her wand behind her ear looking at her.

“... Hey,” Sunset said. She still felt a little emotionally raw, but managed to refrain from extending barbs with her bearing, and instead went for something armored.

“Hello. Why are you alone?” the girl said, in a dreamy voice.

Sunset was caught slightly off-guard by this.

An inner part of Sunset raised her eyebrows at this, and warned Sunset to walk softly around this little figure, though she couldn’t understand why.

“... I’m not. You’re here,” Sunset noted.

The girl looked down at herself, as if remembering that she had a physical shape. “You’re right,” she said, and looked up at Sunset again. “You want to be alone, don’t you? I’ll leave.”

Before Sunset could say anything, the blonde girl turned and walked away.

“... When was the last time I had a normal conversation?” Sunset asked herself.

As if in response, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil appeared in the doorway, clearly looking for either an unoccupied compartment, or one with someone they were familiar with, which they had just found.

“Sunset!” they both shouted at the same time as they entered the compartment.

“How have you been?” Parvati asked, as they plopped down onto the seats.

Sunset shrugged. “Pretty good. Didn’t get as much done as I thought I was going to when summer started. Don’t know where the time went actually.”

“Tell me about it,” Lavender said, and brought up a pocket mirror from inside her robe and started checking her make-up, talking as she did. “I got home, we went on vacation, then I got home again, and then I visited Parvati, met Padma, and then, it was practically time for school to start. Really fast. Oh well, could’ve lasted longer, but it’s gonna be fun to get back, don’t you think?”

Sunset had to agree with that, and noted that, while inane, this probably qualified as a normal conversation, and she nodded. “Yeah, I… agree.”

“Anyway, Parvati’s parents both work as herbalists, growing herbs in their garden, and it was so beautiful,” Lavender gushed.

Sunset nodded along, interjecting some uhuhs and mhms for a while, until Lavender and Parvati gradually shifted towards just talking with each other.

The door opened, and Hermione Granger entered, with Fred and George Weasley, and also someone who was clearly their younger sister, whom Sunset vaguely remembered meeting a year prior.

“Hi, Hermione!” Parvati and Lavender said, enthusiastically. “And you guys.”

“Greetings and salutations, fair ladies,” George said, putting a handkerchief on his head, only to pull it off and bow low.

The younger redhead scowled at him, and pushed him hard enough to almost fall over.

He didn’t seem to mind, and just smirked at her.

“Hello,” Hermione said, looking frustrated. “Have any of you seen Harry and Ron?”

The three girls shook their heads.

“Not at all?” Hermione insisted.

“No. Weren’t they with you guys at the station?”

Fred shrugged. “We got through the barrier to the platform, and then we couldn’t find them. We thought maybe they rushed past us to get on the train.”

“Maybe they got lost on the way,” George suggested. “Wouldn’t put it past them. It’s, what, twelve feet to the train from the barrier?”

The youngest redhead looked up at her brother with concern. “Do you think they’ll get to school? What if they never get there.”

“They’ll be fine,” George said, waving her concerns away. “Anyway, we’re gonna leave you ladies now.”

“What, me too?” his sister asked.

“Can’t be helped,” Fred said, shrugging. “Lee Jordan says he has something to show us. Can’t let the uninitiated partake in the cloak and dagger stuff.”

Hermione shot them a glare. “I hope it’s not against the school rules.”

“I’m sure you do,” Fred said, and turned to the compartment in general. “Anyway, this is Ginny, our little sister. Don’t make her mad- she bites,” he said, making Ginny scowl at him.

They started walking out, before George paused. “Oh, and Sunset, we’ll conclude our business later.”

Sunset clicked her tongue and winked while pointing at him.

“What business?” Hermione asked, suspiciously, after the twins left.

“The cloak and dagger kind,” Sunset shrugged. “Anyway, nice to meet you, Ginny. How were your summers?”

They had apparently had nice summers. Hermione’s parents had been a little disappointed that Hermione wasn’t allowed to show any of her magic powers to them.

Ginny told them about how Harry had come to live with them for a few weeks during summer. Apparently he had been prevented from sending letters to his friends, perhaps by his muggle family, who disliked him.

Sunset half-listened between jotting down information in her book, and going through old research notes. That Harry was disliked by his family was something she had heard before, and found somewhat intriguing, considering how he was a celebrity, something of a hero, in the magical world.

The conversation thankfully progressed almost entirely without Sunset’s input for some time, and she pretty much stopped working, instead just basking in the unremarkable chatter around her.

A small part of her nagged her, saying that was budgerigar-behavior, but she ignored it.

This continued until she heard one of the girls say, “don’t you think, Sunset?”

Sunset jolted to attention, and quickly ran through the last few phrases of the conversation in her head. With a rising feeling of dread, she suspected it was about boys in school.

“Uhm…” she said, when her savior opened the door.

“Oh, uh, hello,” Neville Longbottom said, looking apologetic. “Everywhere else is taken.”

“Hey, Neville,” Sunset said, relieved, and gestured at the empty seat on the far side from her. “Sit down.”

“Thanks,” he said, equally relieved.

Lavender and Parvati started looking back and forth between the others in the car, talking in low voices to each other and shaking their heads in disbelief.

“What are you two whispering about?” Hermione asked.

They immediately stopped, and looked innocent. “Nothing,” they insisted.

“Where’s the food cart?” Parvati asked. “I’m hungry.”

“There’s a food cart?” Sunset asked.

“Uh, yes. Don’t you know?” Lavender asked.

“No, I missed it last time.”

“How?” Parvati asked.

“She was up on the roof,” Hermione said, disapprovingly.

“What? No way,” the two other girls said.

“It’s true,” Neville said, and turned to Sunset. “Why were you up there?”

“Didn’t get any friendly vibes from people,” Sunset said, shrugging.

“You don’t like unfriendly vibes?” Parvati asked, and chuckled.

“‘Course I don’t.”

“Strange thing for you to say,” Lavender noted.

“I am super friendly,” Sunset confidently declared, putting her hands behind her head and leaning back.

“What…? To people you think deserve it or something like that?” Parvati asked.

“No, in general,” Sunset said.

“Oh yeah? So what did you do during summer?” Parvati asked, smirking.

Sunset’s eyes narrowed and shifted back and forth. “Hmm, a riposte- A well-landed blow, madam,” she replied, in a highborn voice, and openly started tapping her chin as she thought. “I guess you got me. I have no comment.”

The four others were not swept up by her attempted humor, and just stared at her in silence for several moments.

“Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?” Neville asked.

Sunset shot him an apologetic smile, and just shrugged. “I just don’t. Don’t take it personally.”

“You know you’re not making anyone curious, right?” Hermione noted.

“Too bad, because my personal life is absolutely riveting,” Sunset said, smiling easily at her.

That finally got a chuckle from Parvati and Lavender, and they turned to Neville, making the conversation about their summers.

The food cart came by, and Sunset ordered a few cauldron cakes and some juice.

From this, Sunset also started suspecting that Lavender, or rather her family, was well off, since she got a large pile of sweets for her and Parvati, and had enough left to share to the others.

Sunset was offered an animated chocolate frog. “Thank you… oh, that’s kinda cute,” Sunset said, before she stopped, a slightly disturbed look on her face. “Hmm… doesn’t feel right eating something that’s trying to get away,” she said, and fell into deep thought as she considered the chocolate construct, and her other eating habits as a human.

“You don’t like it?” Lavender asked, a little concerned.

“What? Oh, uh, no it’s not that. I’ll just…” she tried thinking of the best approach to this, before simply biting off the head of the frog, rendering it immediately inanimate.

To her surprise, there was a certain sense of satisfaction to that, which weirded her out a little.

<<Huh… thrill of the hunt, maybe?>> she muttered to herself.

“What?” Parvati asked. “What does that mean?”

“What? Oh, nothing. Sorry.”

“She speaks other languages,” Neville noted to the others.

“See? You do know things about me,” Sunset pointed out.

“I don’t know what that language you speak is,” Neville pointed out, a little apologetic.

Sunset finally yielded. “Okay, fine, what do you wanna know?” she said.

Parvati and Lavender jumped at the chance, and Sunset couldn’t tell for sure, but she felt that maybe they were being intentionally kind by showing interest.

“Where are you from?” Parvati asked.

“Far away,” Sunset simply said, making the two of them roll their eyes.

Neville also paid attention, and though she pretended not to, Hermione had stopped reading.

“How come you’re so good at magic?” Lavender asked.

“I’m not that much better than anyo–”

“Oh stop, you are. We all know it.”

Sunset grunted, somewhat dissatisfied. “I have some prior training,” she admitted.

“Yeah, but plenty of purebloods have that.”

Sunset shrugged. “Sure, but… well, who can say? Is it raw talent? Maybe, but then what is raw talent? Is it having the disposition to study the field in question?”

“Why are you spending so much time with Draco Malfoy?” Hermione asked, in a neutral voice, not looking up from her book.

Parvati and Lavender glanced at Hermione, before sitting down and pretending to not be paying such rapt attention.

“To put it simply, he seeks me out. I don’t really know why,” Sunset said, shrugging.

Hermione sniffed, while Lavender and Parvati looked amused.

“See, you all know loads about me,” Sunset noted.

“Uhm… Sunset?” Neville asked, looking nervous.

“... Yes?”

“Can you help me find Trevor?” Neville asked, looking through the pockets of his robe.

—

Like the last time, Sunset left her shoulder bag on a seat on the train. Previously she hadn’t been very concerned with her book linked to Celestia. Now she was more skeptical, but relented when she remembered that it had been properly handled a year ago.

She stepped off the platform into the quickly darkening early night, along with her classmates.

In the distance, Hagrid was rounding up first-year students to take them across the lake, while prefects were rounding up the rest of the students.

The chattering crowd moved sluggishly up a wide set of stone stairs to a road lined with carriages, with no beast of burden seeming to pull it.

As they approached a carriage, a very sudden nervous scent emanated from Neville, and Sunset looked back at him in confusion.

“What?” she asked.

“Wh… what are those?” he asked, pointing at the carriages.

Sunset was about to point out the obvious, when she caught another scent, this one not so much with her nose as with her magic.

She looked around in the dark blue sky for shapes swooping past, or slightly glowing eyes watching from the trees and shrubs, but couldn’t spot anything, the crowd and their talking around her didn’t help.

“... The mountain dwellers,” she said to herself.

“What? What mountain dwellers?” Neville asked.

Sunset shook her head, not having realized she had said that in English. “Nevermind. Where are they?” she said, still looking around with narrowed eyes.

Neville pointed to the front of a carriage, where Sunset finally spotted her.

Dark coat, leathery wings, slitted eyes, and wicked-looking tufts of hair on the top of her ears.

“There you are. Good eye, Neville.”

She noted that it looked to the thestrals from Equestria much like the passed away unicorn looked to herself in her true form. She was larger, had a more feral-looking appearance, and also had the more unthinking patience of a dumb beast.

Intrigued, Sunset walked up to the magical horse, with a nervous Neville following slightly behind.

She let the thestral sniff her hand, feeling the scent of slight relief that animals, and others frankly, exuded when strangers turned out to be friends.

“Hello,” Sunset said, and started scratching the dark mare behind the ear, making her lean into Sunset’s hand.

Sunset put her other hand against the side of the mare’s mouth. “It’s okay, I allow it.”

Neville backed away a step, and made a nervous sound when the thestral opened her mouth, revealing a set of sharp fangs.

However, Sunset just readily pricked her thumb on a fang, and held her now slightly bleeding hand in front of the mare, who started gratefully licking the blood off with a long tongue, closing her eyes and focusing on the sensation.

“Thank you,” she said, giving the dark creature an affectionate pat on her neck.

“Come on, Neville,” Sunset said, as some people, notably her classmates, were giving her strange looks as they moved into the carriages.

Neville carefully stepped up, and Sunset gently took his hand and started guiding it towards the thestral’s mouth.

“It’s okay,” she said, as Neville made a weak protesting sound. “It doesn’t hurt. Just gently put your finger against the fang.”

Neville, barely believing himself able to, pricked his thumb against the fang, just as Sunset had, and to his amazement, felt no pain whatsoever.

Like with Sunset, the shadowy mare started licking Neville’s small amount of blood from his digit, closing her eyes again.

He looked on in fascination as the dark horse-like creature, which had looked outright nightmarish just moments before, now seemed so gentle and affectionate.

“She likes you,” Sunset noted.

“Oh,” Neville said, and laughed nervously.

“Say thank you.”

“Uh, thank you,” Neville said, and looked questioningly at Sunset.

“Letting you know that your blood tastes good is a compliment. She’ll share it with her colony, marking you as a friend.”

“Is that… good?”

“Is it good being friendly with a colony of very, very sneaky, magic, vampiric equines?” Sunset said, smirking at Neville. “It’s certainly better than being their enemy.”

They let the thestral have a few more licks before taking their place in the carriage, Neville alternating between looking at Sunset in fascination, and glancing out the window towards the other thestrals pulling the carriages.

They passed through the gates of Hogwarts, and came all the way up to the entrance hall before the carriages stopped.

The students all disembarked, and formed a crowd which moved much more rapidly towards the castle, a much more familiar environment.

Sunset didn’t have as much time to spend with the member of the mountain tribe who had pulled her carriage, and simply pulled off the scab from her finger, and offered her that.

“I know you don’t need normal food like the rest of us, but I’d get some anyway. Put some meat on your bones,” she said, patting the mare who was gratefully chewing down the dry piece of blood on the side, before joining her classmates, a Slytherin student she had forgotten the name of giving her a worried look.

The throng of students flowed into the great hall, and towards the tables of their houses, where the canvas of chatter reached a crescendo as hundreds of young wizards-and-witches-in-training were reunited after a summer apart.

“Where are Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked, impatiently, as she looked around. “And where’s Professor Snape?”

Sunset glanced around, and true enough, the potions master was absent from the table at the far end of the hall.

Suddenly, Hermione gasped, and said, “There he is!” in an excited whisper.

Sunset looked around for Harry, Ron, or Snape, but couldn’t see them.

“Where?”

“There!” Hermione squealed, pointing at the teachers’ table.

Sunset finally understood who Hermione meant. “Uuuh… oh.”

Sitting at the spot where Quirrell had been last year, was someone whose face Sunset had grown quite familiar with in the previous few weeks.

The perpetually smiling Gilderoy Lockhart gave cheerful little waves towards the large number of students he spotted waving at him first.

Albus Dumbledore suddenly appeared, and calmly took his chair.

Through no magic, but presence alone, the student body followed his example, and it was just in time, as the new first years nervously marched in through the door.

“Hermione’s right, where are those two?” Parvati asked. “They’re going to interrupt the ceremony.”

As if summoned by her words, the combined sound of a loud roar and screech, as if caused by a crashing comet, announced the arrival of a muggle automobile, soaring across the sky above the enchanted ceiling of the dining hall, with the two panicked voices of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley mingling with the strained cacophony caused by the flying vehicle.

A short moment after they had passed by, a loud crashing sound came from the darkened castle grounds, as the vehicle smashed right into a tree.

The entire student body, and most of the teachers, stood up to look through the great portal leading out to the grounds, where the flying car was struggling to disentangle itself from a very angry tree.

There was a great mixture of reaction from the student, ranging from gasps of horror, to laughter and applause, to some scowling disapproval.

“I say! Good show!” Fred and George shouted, as they stood up and loudly clapped their hands. Their friend Lee Jordan had doubled over from laughter, Percy was scowling deeply, while Ginny’s eyes were wide as she held her hands over her mouth.

Sunset glanced around the room, and only just managed to spot an amused smirk on Dumbledore’s face before he willed it dour. Hagrid was looking on with shocked concern, and Gilderoy Lockhart’s smile had stopped reaching his eyes, and had turned confused and troubled.

Minerva McGonagall swished her wand, closing the doors to the hall, marking an end of the spectacle with a loud, booming noise, making everyone sit down again.

“That’s enough of that,” she said to herself, before placing the sorting hat on the stool that Sunset had sat on a year prior.

From there, the sorting proceeded as before, with the seam of the hat bursting into song. The difference of course being that people were quite curious about the flying car, and the two occupants of it, with a lot of excited whispering.

When the sorting was over, Gryffindor had enough students to make up for the ones who had graduated last year, notable among them were, as expected, Ginny Weasley, who was sitting next to her brothers. There was also a very short boy who kept asking if Harry Potter was in the flying car, and what he was doing there.

Sunset, who had ended up sitting around the same people she had been sitting with on the train, continued as she had for the past few hours, idly joining in the conversation when prompted, and otherwise enjoying the food.

It was, of course, a less special evening for her than the one a year before, when she had first been introduced to the school as a student.

Overall, Sunset was glad to be back, especially on a night such as this, where the scent of excitement and high spirits washed over her, soothing her on a deep level.

After a five course meal and a walk up to Gryffindor tower later, Sunset collapsed onto her four poster bed. She’d never criticize the way Tom ran his inn, but he didn’t have beds as luxurious as this. A couch couldn’t compete with this, and certainly not the bare planks of a playground.

“Well, at least they’re not expelled,” Hermione said, disapprovingly, as she stepped in through the door.

Lavender and Parvati eagerly wanted details, and Sunset would’ve been curious too, if she hadn’t fallen asleep at that very moment, face down into her pillow, still fully dressed.

Author's Notes:

Proofreading credit goes to Snuffy (actually, what even is a prereader, proofreader, editor, and script doctor? What's the difference between them?)

This took a while to write. I've been operating on a very low mojo-level lately. The busy season is also coming up, so I wouldn't expect much writing for a while. I wish I could've had Sunset react to more muggle culture too. Oh well. There are more summers coming.

Early Witch Gets the Pixie

There was a snort from Sunset’s bed, as she lifted her head from her pillow. <<Rhubarbs.>>

What followed felt naggingly familiar to her, though she couldn’t put her finger on why, as she stumbled out of bed already dressed in her clothes, muttering incoherently to Hermione about needing to wear a nightgown while swaying down the stairs towards the great hall, and collapsing next to Harry and Ron by the Gryffindor table.

“Morning, Sunset,” Harry said.

“Mmmrnin,” she responded, trying to get both her eyes to look at Harry at the same time.

Her head swung back towards the table, and she probed, bleary eyed, for her quarry.

Ron filled up a mug of coffee and pressed it into Sunset’s hands, which had been grasping in confusion around the plates of food, before acting on deeply ingrained muscle memory, and swallowed half the mug’s content in one gulp.

Relieved, Sunset slumped, and rested her cheek in one hand as she poured another cup and grabbed a hard-boiled egg.

“Thank you,” she sighed in relief, as her brain started working enough to simply be considered exhausted rather than non-functional.

“Had a nice summer?” Ron asked, smirking.

Sunset let out a double yawn, and nodded, eyes closed. “Yeah. You guys?”

“Yeah, pretty good,” Ron said, noncommittally.

“Same here. Better than usual, actually,” Harry said.

“Good.”

Sunset let the boys turn back to their original topic, which didn’t last long before the owls started to arrive with the mail.

A general sense of concern rapidly blanketed the table, and Sunset wished it would go away, as it encouraged her to wake up, which was far down on her list of things she wanted right now.

A slice of bacon was her next visit, when suddenly a voice absolutely boomed in her ears.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to stare, as a woman started shouting at magically enhanced volumes from a letter Ron had received.

“... STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY’D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET HOLD OF YOU. I DON’T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT–”

That was as far as it went, before Sunset, cheek still in one hand, and with an annoyed expression, grabbed the letter and tossed it into a juice pitcher, where it bubbled angrily but impotently at Ron, only muffled parts of words being discernable.

“... Thanks,” Ron said, relieved.

“Mmm,” Sunset mumbled, and took another bite of her bacon as the pitcher hissed and sputtered.

The summer was still clinging to life on the whole, but on this day in particular, it was a refreshingly gray day, with a hint of an invigorating chill in the air, that Sunset savored as they sauntered towards the greenhouses on the grounds for a herbology lesson with both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

A slightly bruised and unusually annoyed Professor Sprout was trudging up towards them with a turquoise-clad Gilderoy Lockhart next to her.

“Oh, Hello there!” Lockhart said, loudly. “Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don’t want you running away with the idea that I’m better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several exotic plants in my travels…”

Between the breakfast and the fresh mountain air, Sunset assumed she had woken up properly, but Lockhart’s words made her hesitate. She looked blarily at the smiling man, wondering what kind of a conversation she missed that made this sound reasonable.

“Greenhouse Three today, chaps!” Professor Sprout said, noticeably struggling to sound normal.

Sprout’s word choice was one of those things that Sunset sometimes struggled with when speaking English, and which possibly applied to other human languages as well, as Sunset noted that none of them were wearing, much less actually were, loose fitting leg-hoses.

The class started moving towards Greenhouse Three, anticipation building in the air. Professor Sprout unlocked the door, and they all shuffled inside.

Herbology class, and especially Professor Sprout, reminded Sunset a little of the royal apothecary greenhouses in Canterlot, no-nonsense and sometimes dour ponies expertly handling exotic and often dangerous plants with a steady and practiced hoof.

“Harry, I’ve been wanting a word,” Professor Lockhart said from just outside the greenhouse. “You don’t mind if he’s a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?”

Harry looked very uncomfortable, as Lockhart said, “That’s the ticket!” and shut the door.

The class looked through the windows with confusion and sympathy at Harry’s expression, as he tried putting as much distance between himself and Lockhart without actually stepping away from him.

“What is he talking about?” Seamus wondered out loud.

“Merlin only knows,” Sprout muttered, before putting in effort to look more neutral.

After a few minutes, Lockhart turned with a swish and strutted away.

Harry entered, and Professor Sprout was clearly eager to take her mind of what had just happened, and began promptly.

Going by what she had learned during the last year, when combining magic and horticulture, humans had access to many inherently magical plants, while ponies more often used magic when interacting with otherwise mundane plants. She didn’t want to propagate stereotypes, but she felt that a lot of earth ponies would really like to learn from Professor Sprout.

It was quite a fascinating lesson. Professor Sprout demonstrated the care of young mandrakes, a plant that Sunset had never seen before, and while it was not her favorite subject, that she was seeing things that no pony had ever seen before was more than enough to keep her interested.

Other than that, it went as usual. The teacher would ask a question, Hermione would raise her hand and answer correctly, the teacher would smile and give her points, and then they’d start learning.

The young mandrakes were plants, hence why they were learning about them in Herbology, but their roots looked like chubby little creatures, with the leaves forming what looked like great bushes of hair. They needed to be re-planted into larger pots, complicated by the fact that their screams were dangerous, at least when they got older.

Everyone except Neville struggled greatly, though Sunset did note that simply using sheer strength helped.

“Well done, you two,” Sprout told them, as they all removed their earmuffs, and gave them some points. Sunset didn’t pay attention to how many.

“These things were kinda gross,” Dean Thomas noted after class, as they were walking back up towards the castle. “They looked like little babies.”

“Human babies look like that?” Sunset asked, before her face froze.

“Well, sort- uhm… have you never- wait, what do you mean, ‘human babies’?” he asked, making several others also give her befuddled looks.

Sunset stared at him, stone faced, before simply saying, “nothing- oh, look, something interesting,” and pointing towards a cloud.

Everyone turned to look, and just kept marching.

“No, seriously, what do you mean by that?” Dean insisted, as they caught up with her again.

Sunset’s eyes shifted back and forth for just a moment. “I… misspoke, okay? I’m tired.”

By now, her classmates were all giving her uncertain looks.

“I thought you were a muggle-born,” Seamus blurted out.

“You don’t think so anymore?” Sunset asked, trying to sound casual, and to cut this conversation off at the pass.

“Well…” Seamus started. “It goes without saying, you can’t be a full muggle-born if you’re a halfbreed or- uhm, I mean, if, uh…”

“If one of your parents is a magical creature,” Parvati supplied.

“What makes you think along these lines?” Sunset said, making another, even more feeble, attempt.

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. It would explain your ears,” he said, as they marched into the castle.

“My ears?” Sunset said, giving him a questioning look.

“Yeah, they’re all pointy. Makes you look like a giant fairy.”

“Ron!” Hermione said, giving him a stern look.

“What?” he said, looking back at her, confused.

“That’s not- you don’t- ugh, forget it,” she said.

“Is that… common?” Sunset asked, carefully, as they re-entered the castle. Aside from Flitwick, and maybe Hagrid, she thought all humans looked very similar to each other, at least compared to ponies, although perhaps not as much when compared to Gryphons.

“What is?” Dean asked.

“Having, uh… or… being mixed… species? Mixed genus, perhaps?”

“Now you do sound muggle-born,” Lavender noted.

“Not exactly common, but it happens,” Ron said, shrugging.

“Huh, I see,” Sunset said.

That’s as far as the conversation could go, as the boys and girls separated to get a quick wash to get the grime off before making their way to transfiguration.

Mixed species and mixed genus couples were nothing that raised an eyebrow in Equestria, and would at most lead to some politely curious questions. It wasn’t exactly a free-for-all, with different species preferring different geographies, which limited their ability to mingle comfortably, but mixed-species offspring seemed to work a little differently in Earth’s magical world than it did in Equestria. Sunset was reminded of a pair of siblings, one an earth pony and the other a thestral, one of the grandparents of which was a thestral as well.

Taking on partial traits from another species, which is what she figured her classmates had been talking about, was extremely rare, and the data from when it happened was limited.

Also, Sunset didn’t care about what her former schoolmates said. Diamond dogs and ponies could not interbreed: Trot-weilers were a myth.

In the transfiguration classroom, McGonagall was her old, prim self, and without welcoming the class back, handed out beetles for everyone to turn into coat buttons.

Sunset ended up by herself, which she didn’t mind. She knew of this spell from before, but hadn’t practiced it, mainly because she hadn’t bothered going out and looking for beetles or other suitable animals.

“♪I’d ask my friends to come and see… an octopus’ garden with me, badum bum bum bum…♫” she sang quietly to herself as she calmly transformed the beetle back and forth, with her wand, nails, and hair when no one was watching.

She gave the beetle a rest, and dug out her book, the one where she was cataloging all her research, and started writing down the differences between the spell when cast with her wand and when cast with her hair.

The topic of how bridged her two different types of casting magic were, since it was her hair in the wand, was also something that perhaps could do with some research.

“Miss Shimmer, why are you not practicing?” McGonagall demanded.

“Because I feel I know the spell, professor,” Sunset said, politely but coldly.

“Let me see then.”

Sunset put her book down, and easily cast the spell on the beetle, remembering to vocalize the spell, turning it into a coat button.

Before McGonagall could say anything however, Ron’s wand made a sizzling noise, and let out a large amount of dark smoke.

The class coughed and sputtered, but the foul smell sat particularly bad with Sunset, who immediately conjured a slightly glowing forcefield around her.

“Is everything quite alright, Mr Weasley?” McGonagall said, testily, as the smoke cleared.

Ron let out a few more coughs. “Y-yeah, professor… or, uhm, no. I think I need a new beetle.”

McGonagall turned around and went to retrieve a new beetle, when she noticed the faint glimmering around Sunset, distorting the air around her slightly.

Sunset gave her a long and utterly neutral look, before she snapped her fingers, and the shield vanished.

Sunset was the first person out of the classroom when it was time for lunch.

The caffeine was wearing off, and Sunset mostly wanted to take a nap. Perhaps an eight hour long one, before turning in for the night. She forced herself to eat an okay lunch, before sauntering out towards the courtyard, and even managed to almost walk in a straight line.

Not paying attention to her surroundings, she found herself standing to the side of Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a small, camera wielding Gryffindor first year Sunset felt she should probably have remembered since she would’ve seen him sorted the evening before.

“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos, Potter?” Malfoy loudly asked, making Sunset jerk her head up with the volume of his voice.

“Everyone queue up! Harry Potter’s giving out signed photos!”

“No, I’m not,” Harry said, angrily. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

“Are they worth money?” Sunset wondered, peering over Malfoy’s shoulder. “If so, I’ll take one.”

Malfoy turned around, and seemed to be caught off-balance by… something.

“You’re just jealous,” the small first year insisted, which Sunset had to admire since she was pretty sure the humans around him could physically handle him the way she could normal humans.

Malfoy rallied, and smirked at Sunset before turning back towards the others.

“Jealous? Of what? I don’t want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don’t think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself.”

Sunset silently weighed that. True, scars, non-magical ones at least, had no direct utility, but there were certainly rangers coming back from tours at Far Watch, and monster wranglers coming back from Tempest Valley, that sported some really dashing scars, used to great effect by going out to places in Canterlot where singles hang out, and pretending to not know how cool it made them look.

The argument had apparently gone on without her, because wands were being drawn, but Gilderoy Lockhart suddenly appeared, and how he could’ve gotten this close without people noticing him in robes like that, Sunset had no idea.

“What’s all this, what’s all this? Who’s giving out signed photos?”

Before anyone could say anything, he put his arms around Harry’s shoulders.

“Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!”

Sunset winced at Harry’s expression.

“Come on then, Mr Creevey,” Lockhart said. “A double portrait, can’t say fairer than that, and we’ll both sign it for you.”

“Will that be worth money?” Sunset asked.

“Shut up, Sunset,” Harry muttered.

“Nice one,” Malfoy said, having moved to Sunset’s side.

“I was being serious,” Sunset pointed out, shrugging.

“So, how was your summer, Sunset?” Draco asked, his hands behind his back and an overdone dignified expression on his face.

The bell rang, and the crowd started to quickly disperse and move towards the classes.

“Fine, yours too, I hope,” Sunset said, hoping that was polite enough as she walked backward towards the great hall. “See you later.”

Malfoy just stood there, opening and closing his mouth several times before slumping a little.

Sunset and her classmates had all previously met the teachers in all their subjects before, with the exception of Gilderoy Lockhart, and so there was a sense of anticipation in the air, although the observant would notice a mix of flavors. On one hand, there was genuine excitement at the idea of finally learning from this esteemed champion of good and justice, and on the other there was a more… carefully curious kind of anticipation, and the person who exuded that the most was Harry, who, when the class filed into the classroom, sat in the back and built a sort of fort of Lockhart books and hid himself behind them.

When the whole class was sitting down, Lockhart grabbed Neville’s copy of his book, and held it out in front of him. The portrait on the cover winked.

“Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times Winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile-Award… but I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!”

Sunset tried to share a look with Hermione, but found her staring at Lockhart, transfixed.

“I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books. Well done. I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken in…”

He started handing out papers, before going back to the desk. “You have thirty minutes. Start… now.”

Sunset looked down at the questions, then let out a sigh.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favourite colour?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?

His books had actually been fairly thrilling at times, and at some points informative. She did know, from reading about them earlier, that humans cursed with lycanthropy found silver to be very painful to touch and even uncomfortable to be near when they were transformed, and Lockhart’s accounts of when he had used silver against werewolves seemed very accurate. However, it’s not like she had never ran across a Daring Do knock-off in her life, and it was less that there were clear signs of self-aggrandizement so much as it was the books’ main feature. The difficulty was separating the… embellishment, from plain fiction, but in either case it cast doubt on the factual correctness of the rest of the text.

Tired, grumpy, and with a slight stomach ache, mostly stemming from her tiredness, Sunset decided to answer the questions, not as best as she could, but as best as she fancied.

1. Whatever he’s wearing at the time.

The second one required some thinking.

2. To avoid colic.
3. To be hired as a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

To the side, Hermione was scribbling away at a blistering pace, blushing frequently. Sunset sniffed the air, then felt very mildly nauseous, and regretted sitting next to her.

And so Sunset kept writing the answers as best as she could, while idly coming up with names that rhyme with her teacher’s name, like Tilde-Soy Dock-Smart, Build-a-Toy Shock-Wart, and so on, but she soon ran up against a wall, when nothing sounded better than Filled-Ahoy Block-Fart.

40. What attire do you think compliments Gilderoy Lockhart’s Billy-Boy Pockmark’s smile the most?

40. Any robe in his favorite color.

Thirty minutes later, their new teacher was standing in front of the desk, looking through the quiz results, shaking his head an tuting to himself.

“Hardly any of you remembered that my favorite colour is lilac. I say so in Year With a Yeti. And a few need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully. I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples, though I wouldn’t say no to a large bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky!”

He gave them an overdone wink, and Sunset felt herself go slightly numb from disbelief, or perhaps as a defence mechanism to disassociate with a reality that hosted someone this awkward.

Around her, people were either sharing her expression, or quivering with silent laughter. At least all the boys were.

“But Miss Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions. Good girl.”

Far down in some corner of Sunset’s mind, she realized that it might’ve been a bad idea to make fun of the teacher on the actual quiz, before she realized that she had probably forgotten to write her name on it.

“In fact… full marks!” Lockhart continued, as he flipped to the end of Hermione’s papers. “Where is Miss Hermione Granger?”

Hermione carefully raised her hand.

“Excellent! Quite Excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, to business…”

From behind the desk, he produced a large cage, covered with a dark cloth.

“Now, be warned. It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm.”

Sunset sighed again, mellow from boredom-induced serenity.

She realized that if Lockhart really did have something dangerous or scary underneath that cloth, she would’ve been set up like a world class chump, but still she couldn’t muster any enthusiasm.

“I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them.”

Lockhart swished the cloth off, revealing–

“Yes! Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!”

Sunset blinked, first with one eyelid and then the other, as Seamus let out a loud guffaw. The tiny creatures inside fluttered about, hissing and snarling at the class while rattling the bars. Sunset thought they looked a little like evil breezies, and the thing was that no matter how evil a breezie was, it would still be a breezie.

“Yes?” Lockhart asked, beaming in Seamus’ direction.

“Well they’re not- they’re not very dangerous, are they?” he managed, between laughs.

Lockhart wagged his finger smugly at Seamus. “Don’t be so sure! Devilish little blighters they can be!” he said, and put his hand on the door to the cage. “Right then. Let’s see what you make of them!”

He opened the cage, and the pixies immediately shot out like a swarm of angry bees. A swarm of angry bees with little hands, and a determination to wreck everything around them.

The girls shrieked, and so did the boys, as the blue little creatures zoomed about with books, inkwells, and every other loose object they could find, throwing them at students who took cover underneath their desks.

Sunset shrouded herself in a forcefield, just like she had in McGonagall’s classroom, and leaned back in her chair, looking at a pixie trying to gnaw through her shield with its little fangs.

“Come now, round them up, round them up! They’re only pixies!” Lockhart shouted, then swung his wand around and shouted, “Peskipksi Pesternomi!” to absolutely no effect. The only thing he managed was to have his wand stolen and thrown out a window.

“Sunset! Help!” Neville said, loudly but carefully.

Sunset looked up to see him hanging by his robe in the chandelier. She stood up, pulled out her wand, and carefully lifted him off before dropping him into her outstretched arms.

“Uh, thanks,” a blushing Neville said, looking into Sunset's very sleepy eyes as he clambered onto his feet.

Sunset sighed again, and pointed her wand at the cage they had come from.

It started flying through the air on the side, the hatch smacking continuously like it was a frenzied beast, hungry for pixie flesh.

The foul little creatures let out a yell of warning, and tried to avoid the wireframe monster, but to no avail. The cage shot forward, and whenever one of the pixies caught its attention, it suddenly got just too slow to avoid the rattling maw.

The class, and Lockhart, looked up in amazement at the show, and before long the last pixie was back in the cage, with the hatch closed, and back on top of Lockhart’s desk. The pixies shouted in fear and indignation before the piece of cloth was magically lifted up and thrown over them.

The whole class slowly emerged from under their desks and gave Sunset a collective, stunned look.

“... Well! You can’t argue with the results, but I daresay the method could use some improvement. I had a somewhat more efficient solution in mind,” Lockhart said, still smiling widely while looking at the slowly blinking Sunset.

“Yeah, we saw,” Ron muttered to Harry.

“If I were you, I would’ve–”

But that’s as far as he got before the bell rang, and Lockhart’s smile took on a more relieved character.

“... But it would take far too long to explain it before supper. I know you’d all love to stay, but we’ll continue this before long. Class dismissed.”

Sunset’s bag flew from the backrest of her chair into her hand, and she swung it over her shoulder before turning around and walking out the door.

Halfway down the corridor she realized that she was surrounded by her classmates.

“Wicked! Where did you learn to do that?” Dean asked.

“Self taught,” Sunset yawned.

“All like, zoom!” Seamus agreed.

“My gran’ and I saw her do magic before we even started at Hogwarts,” Neville told Parvati and Lavender.

“That was really quite good,” Hermione noted.

“Can you believe him though?” Ron asked Harry, as Hermione helped them magically mend their books which had been damaged in the classroom.

Out of pure habit, Sunset went into the dining hall and sat down at Gryffindor table, surrounded by her classmates, still asking her questions.

If she had had more presence of mind, she would’ve gone straight to the Gryffindor dormitories. which became very clear when she slowly tipped to the side and collapsed against Lavender, snoring loudly.

“Yeah… she didn’t sleep very well the first night here last year either,” Parvati told the rest of the class.

Author's Notes:

So here's a chapter, finally. It took a while, I've been a bit under the weather, but I was finally able to write again.

This chapter was more source material + an extra character than a lot of previous chapters have been, but I still felt it was for the best, with some character interactions, as well as some introductions that needed to be made. I hope you all like it.

Pre-read by Ssokolow

Out of the Bay

Sunset’s book of research notes looked like an ordinary book, but it wasn’t.

After a trip to a stationery store in London for purchasing of cheap yet perfectly adequate quality material, it now looked like it only had a hundred pages to write in when closed, but when you opened it and started flipping through the pages, suddenly you found thousands of them, blank, lined, graphed, and anyone looking through it had a strangely easy time to find what they were looking for, thanks to some additional spells.

Sunset stood in a currently unused classroom, with the chairs and tables stacked against the wall, and a until recently dusty blackboard against the far wall.

She flipped through her book and tugged at one scribbled paper, which made it come away easily, and started unfolding it more times than seemed possible, until it was large enough to cover the entire board, whereupon she fastened the paper against it, and started studying it.

A chaotic collection of scribbles and notes in Modern Equestrian, rough illustrations, and lines criss-crossing between them was her attempt to map out what she knew of alicorns, why she was certain that magic was the key to becoming one, as well as, and this was of course the part with the least amount of information, how one goes about making it happen.

In fact, there was no information about it.

“It can’t just be knowing enough magic,” Sunset said to herself as she paced slowly back and forth, shooting glances at the map. “Celestia said that Starswirl was her teacher, and he wasn’t an alicorn.”

She played with the idea that Celestia had lied to her, but dismissed it. Celestia was not entirely opposed to misdirection, but she did not lie like that.

With a thumping sound, the book she had borrowed from the library came down on a table, and she flipped it to the section she was after.

“The unicorn is a magical creature which roams the wilds of large parts of Eurasia. It resembles a horse with a horn on its head, but possesses an otherworldly grace that humans have difficulty describing, and are found to be hauntingly beautiful- why, thank you,” Sunset said, raising an eyebrow, as she read to herself. “Uhm… does it say why? Eeh… strange.” She flipped a few pages to skim ahead, but shrugged, and continued from where she had left off.

“The unicorn is a being of purity, goodness, and healing. Uh, sure, why not? Although it is recommended to avoid their ire, as they are quite dangerous when provoked or when woods and creatures under their protection are threatened. Yeah, watch out. One of their most distinguishing abilities is that they are very difficult to capture. Interesting. Adult unicorns are averse to the close presence and especially touch of men and… boys? And… prefer the touch of… young maidens… oooo-kay?”

Sunset blinked a few times before flipping the page back to make sure she hadn’t accidentally started reading about something else, before clearing her throat.

“... Although unicorn foals accept the touch of men and boys, as well.” Sunset looked down at her young body. “Uh… I guess we’ll see how that turns out. The… unicorn has several magical properties, most notable among them for wizardkind is that their hair, either from their tail or their mane, can be used as a core of wands. The horn of a unicorn is believed to be the channel for their magic- you don’t say? Poaching of unicorns is highly illegal- yeah I should hope so, although it is still known to occur, as powdered unicorn horns can be diluted into immense volumes and still remain a powerful ingredient in potion-making… yeah- touch me and you’re gonna buckin’ lose something,” Sunset muttered, slightly disturbed, and took a few breaths before she continued.

“Even more peculiar is the blood of a unicorn, which looks like liquid silver, and functions as an extremely potent restorative for humans.” Sunset blinked at the text. “However, drinking a unicorn’s blood will affect the drinker with a curse. Very few accounts exist of drinkers of unicorn blood sharing the experience of the curse, although it is generally agreed that the effect is quite horrific.”

Sunset stared at the book for a long while.

“... Huh.”

“Oh, hello, Sunset.”

Sunset’s hands half-shot out towards her own book in a jerky motion, before she realized that the speaker, Draco Malfoy, couldn’t read any of it, as it was written in Equestrian, and while he might get curious about the language, the damage was already done.

“Hello, Draco,” Sunset said, trying to get her mood to return to normal through force of will.

Draco was strutting into the room, uninvited, although Sunset couldn’t really say he couldn’t, seeing as how she was just occupying a random classroom.

She did notice that he looked rather pleased.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Studying. Researching,” Sunset said, waving it away as uninteresting. “Just a little… project.”

“Mm, I see,” Draco said, and his smile grew. “I’ve just been made Slytherin’s seeker.”

“For the quidditch team you mean?” Sunset said, feeling pleased with herself for following along so closely.

“Yep. My father bought a set of Nimbus Two-Thousand Ones, for the whole team.”

Sunset made a quick search of her memories for price tags she had seen in Diagon Alley, and gave a low whistle.

“That’s quite a sum,” she said, and continued to herself in a low voice, “I could live on that for years.”

“It really is, but my father has that kind of money,” Draco continued, not having heard Sunset’s last few words.

“So I’ve heard,” Sunset said, nodding.

“Oh, yes, how was your summer? Your ehm… you couldn’t live with your family anymore, right?”

Sunset nodded. “That’s a kind way of saying it.”

“So where do you live when you’re not at school?”

“I rented a room at The Leaky Cauldron,” Sunset said, speaking the truth, though not all of it.

“Really? We went through there and I didn’t see you,” Draco noted.

Sunset shrugged. “I must’ve been out.”

“Mmm. But… you know… I could always ask father if you can stay with us, if you’d like.”

Sunset froze, and weighed her options.

On the one hand, judging by Draco’s family’s wealth she’d be living in the lap of luxury, with the finest food, servants taking care of her, and probably more than one library full of magical lore.

On the other hand, yeah, definitely no on that.

“Sounds better than a dusty old inn, doesn’t it?” Draco continued.

“I’m not unaccustomed to luxury,” Sunset said, and waved around at the stones of the walls. “This isn’t the first castle I’ve lived in.”

“Really?” Draco asked, looking curious. “What kind of castle? And where?”

Sunset took a breath as she pondered how to respond to this. “Eh… just… a castle, far away.”

“Who else lived there?”

The high princess of Equestria and its militaries’ supreme commander, the immortal guardian of all her people, the alicorn of the sun and thus the lifebringer to her lands, and the highest executive of the united homeland of all pony tribes, which brings stability to surrounding lands with its sheer presence, and prosperity with its friendliness. Other than that, countless ambassadors and foreign dignitaries, Equestria’s High Command, pretty much the entire royal guard, as well as members of other branches of the military which uses the castle as their headquarters, not to mention innumerable functionaries; everything from the chief royal landscape architect to Celestia’s personal spymasters. Add to that how the CSGU is technically within the castle grounds, so that you can also count professors, researchers, and the students attending the finest education in the land. All that and more.

… Oh… and Cadence.

“Uh… quite a few others.”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “Wizards and witches?”

Sunset nodded. “Students and practitioners of the arcane arts, certainly, and many other magical beings.”

“And where was it? What country is it in?”

This was becoming tricky for Sunset. The muggles had explored the surface of their world quite thoroughly, and while wizardkind seemed to be rather slow on the uptake when it came to their non-magical counterpart’s discoveries and advancements, she assumed that they at least knew that all the lands above sea level were mapped out.

“A, uh… land that rarely makes contact with the rest of this world,” Sunset ventured.

“But where?”

Sunset chewed her lip. “It’s uh… not a matter of distance, per se.”

Draco was about to ask more questions, when a large, black shape swept into the room.

“Ah, Draco, and Miss Shimmer,” Professor Snape said, managing to sound very cold towards Sunset.

“Professor,” Sunset said, neutrally. On the inside, she was beating herself for her sloppiness, wondering how she could’ve missed his scent, and how much he overheard.

“Hello, Professor. Thank you for kicking the Gryffindor team off the quidditch patch for us,” Draco said, before catching himself and glancing back at Sunset, who was trying to look as casual as possible while reaching up and trying to detach her messy research-map from the board.

Snape smiled. “I thought it would be best if there were fewer… unknowns during the next game. Speaking of which,” he said, and walked up to Sunset’s map, and grabbed one end. “What is Miss Shimmer up to?”

“Researching,” Draco proudly supplied.

“Yes. Researching,” Sunset echoed. She already didn’t like Snape, and the recent discoveries made her all the more wary of the wizarding world in general, and especially him.

Snape glanced at the open book. “About unicorns, I see. Denizens of the deep woods?” he said, and turned to the large paper still partially attached to the blackboard. “And of subjects I don’t recognize as school work. How curious. I wonder… if perhaps the work of Miss Shimmer finds itself completely within the boundaries of school rules. I know her house has a particular penchant for stepping outside that.”

As he spoke, he grabbed the edge of the paper as if to help Sunset with removing it, but didn’t let go of it, instead holding it firmly.

“None of any rules I know of. Thank you, professor,” Sunset said, as she tugged the paper out of his hand, making him glance down at the paper he hadn’t expected to be enchanted to make it ripping-resistant.

As Sunset quickly folded the paper up the size of her book, now falling under the definitions of grimoire, Snape kept going. “Then again, in my experience, Gryffindors can be counted on to not even know the rules in… the… first… place,” he said, as Sunset rapidly thumbed through a few thousand pages of her book, which she had emblazoned with her cutie mark on the cover, to find the proper place to insert the rolled up paper.

Snape’s eyes narrowed, while Draco’s went wide. “We haven’t learned any spell like that so far,” Draco said. “Did you learn it on your own?”

“Yeah. Just a little studying in my spare time. Good day, Professor,” she said, as she moved out of the classroom.

Draco hurried after her.

“Oh, and you should have seen what happened earlier on the quidditch pitch. That clown Ron Weasley was going to cast a hex on me to throw up slugs,” Draco gushed, and Sunset further committed to always being ready to cast a shield spell on herself. “But his spell backfired and it hit himself instead!”

“Ew,” Sunset winced.

“I know! It was hilarious!” Draco said, laughing.

“Why would he try to cast that hex on you in the first place?”

Draco waved that away with a slightly sneering expression. “Probably something to do with that Hermione Granger not enjoying being called what she is.”

“... Overly enthusiastic in class?”

“Uh, yes. Precisely.”

“Well… sounds like quite a bit of drama,” Sunset carefully ventured. “I’m not sure if I'm glad or sad that I missed it.”

“Yeah, you really should’ve that Weasley with the slugs coming out of his mouth,” Draco giggled.

Sunset shook her head. “Not before breakfast and, uh… frankly, not after either,” she said as they came to the great hall. “Well, I’m going back to the tower. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. See you.”

Sunset sauntered along the corridors towards Gryffindor’s tower, taking her time as she figured out what to do next. She still had research to do, but she shelved that plan, not liking the idea of Snape walking in on her doing the exact same thing again after she just packed up in front of him.

Coming out of a bathroom with an impatient expression was Ginny Weasley, who shot an annoyed look at the door.

She turned and saw Sunset walking by right next to her, and jumped in surprise. “Oh! Hey, Sunset.”

“Hello, Ginny,” Sunset said. “What’s up?”

Ginny lowered her voice. “Hrmm… that ghost in there.”

“Oh,” Sunset said, and they kept walking before she continued. “Yeah. That’s Moaning Myrtle.”

The smaller girl looked back at the bathroom door before they rounded a corner. “She was acting like I was out to get her.”

Sunset shrugged. “That’s nice of you. I mean, being miserable is what makes her happy,” she said, at Ginny’s questioning look.

“So… Do you just hurl insults at her whenever you see her?” Ginny asked, skeptically.

“No, but I’m not really in the business of making people happy either.”

Ginny gave Sunset a sideways glance, then smirked.

“So you’re in the same class as Harry? Uh, Harry and Ron? And Hermione?”

“That’s right.”

“Oh… What’s it like?”

Sunset glanced at Ginny. “What’s it like being in the same class as Harry, Ron, and Hermione?”

“Uh, No, I mean, uh… What's class like?”

“Hmm… They’re, uh, they’re fine. About half of them are anyway. Hey, don’t you know all about this? How many older brothers do you have? Five?”

“Six. But like you said, they’re all brothers.”

“What? Are you wondering if it’s different for girls?”

“Well… no, but… I’m just wondering what someone who isn’t my brother says.”

Sunset quickly had to think up what would make more sense for someone who wasn’t already well-trained in the arcane arts studying their first year at Hogwarts.

“Hmm… If you take a few hours every week to try and stay ahead of schedule, everything will go much easier.”

“That sounds like Percy.”

Sunset recoiled. “What a horrible thought. I mean, don’t worry about grades at all. I don’t. You just won’t have to worry about teachers hovering over you if you stay ahead. But don’t get too far ahead.”

Ginny giggled, but before she could say anything, Sir Nicholas floated through a wall, holding a roll of paper and looking agitated.

He paused when he saw them, and floated up to them.

“Ladies, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I must ask, do you consider me to be decapitated?”

“Yes,” Sunset curtly and truthfully answered, having heard of Nick’s denial to join the Headless Hunt, and not missing a beat.

Ginny glanced at Sunset, much less certain, and answered nervously. “Uh… yes? Yes.”

Nick took a breath, and tried to look dignified. “I thought so. Thank you,” he said, and gave a stiff flourish with his hand, before continuing on through a wall.

“... Wow. A lot of the ghosts have issues,” Ginny noted, as they moved on.

“I think it comes with the territory.”

“And the moving stairs, and the changing corridors, and the hidden passages, and the passwords, and Peeves!” Ginny continued. “Why is it like this? No one told me.”

“It’s a strange castle, and I think people like it that way,” Sunset said, as she waved a curtain away to reveal a secret passage that Ginny hadn’t learned of yet. “Probably a sort of hazing mentality, where you try and keep initiates on their toes. I’ve never understood it myself, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Was it hard getting used to it?” Ginny asked, sounding a little nervous.

Sunset glanced back at Ginny as they emerged in a corridor leading to Gryffindor tower. “Whatever the answer is, I should say no.”

“Can you believe how Ron and Harry arrived though?”

Sunset chuckled to herself. “Those clowns. Yes I can believe that.”

Ginny smiled at herself and played with a lock of hair. “Is Harry getting into trouble a lot?”

“Uh…” Sunset thought on this for a moment. “There were some rule-breaking, some detentions, and some rumors that they fought dark wizards, so yeah, I guess so. You know all about that, don’t you? Ron was with him and Hermione.”

“Yeah, yeah he uh… sorta told us about it?”

“Sorta?”

“Well, Fred and George just heckled him whenever he tried telling the story.”

“Oh. Yeah they would.”

Sunset found the conversation mostly comforting, but there was a tenacious sound in the back of her head she was only vaguely aware of, until an inkwell bounced off her head, and spilled its content over her hair and robes.

Ginny put her hands in front of her mouth, and gave Sunset, who was staring ahead and looking coldly unamused, a horrified look.

A loud cackling sounded above them, and they looked up to see Peeves the poltergeist floating above them.

“Students- poo-dents! Who dents them? Why it’s Peeves, with ease, and tricks up his sleeves! Aaahahahaaaa…”

Peeves shrieked with laughter as he floated through the ceiling.

“Oh… are you okay?” Ginny asked Sunset.

Sunset took a deep breath, and nodded, spilling more ink onto her clothes. “I’m fine,” she said, and stood in silence for a moment. “I’m going to wash this off,” she said, and turned around and marched off towards the showers.

Not that she actually needed a shower, but she felt this was an appropriate time as ever to have one. It also allowed her to make sure she didn’t miss any spots when the magicked the ink out of her hair and clothes, which was easier when disrobed and with access to a mirror.

Once cleaned off and dressed, she stepped out into the corridor again, and considered what had just happened.

Perhaps she was biased when she felt that this world was more dangerous than Equestria, but perhaps she wasn’t. And if she was not, she had just been ambushed in a dangerous place. It was by a prankster, sure… this time.

And the reason she was ambushed was because she had been socializing- being friends with people.

Sunset took a deep breath as she contemplated this, walking through the corridors of the castle, unseen by students and teachers, down into the dungeons, and into the empty potions classroom. There she retrieved a small, used potions bottle from the trash bin by Snape’s desk, and walked out again, up towards the third floor of the southwest wing, a part of the castle with low activity, but which Sunset knew was the favorite haunt of House Slytherin’s ghost.

“My Lord Baron,” she called out towards a somber-looking ghost floating through a wall, catching him before he vanished through another one.

The Bloody Baron looked at Sunset in surprise, before turning and elegantly floating up towards her, taking off his wide, ostrich feather-adorned hat with a flourish and holding it to his ruffled, silver blood-stained shirt while bowing.

“My lady,” he wheezed, as he righted himself, and held out his hand invitingly, which Sunset accepted, then gently brushed his ethereal lips just above her knuckles, sending an icy chill up Sunset’s forearm. “What can the Baron of House Slytherin do for a friend?”

Sunset raised her eyebrows. “A friend?”

“A member of House Gryffindor,” the Baron explained.

“Oh? I’ve detected a sense of unfriendly rivalry between the houses,” Sunset noted.

“Oh, verily,” the Baron sighed. “The low spirits of the ghosts of Hogwarts are not just because we are dead. We remember a time when the disciples of its founders did great things together, the wisdom of the houses combined.”

“Even Gryffindor and Slytherin?”

“Especially Gryffindor and Slytherin. But enough of such matters. The bitterness will fade and come again. We have seen it many times. Now, how can I be of service?”

“I’d just like to find Peeves.”

The Baron’s expression darkened, and Sunset noticed that his hand slowly started moving towards the hilt of his sword. “Has he overstepped himself once more?”

“Perhaps. I’m not sure where the line is, but I’d like just one word with him.”

“Mmm, I sense that honor is at stake. I shall… speak… with him,” the Baron said, and moved as if to float away.

“Actually, I was hoping to take care of this myself,” Sunset interjected.

The Baron stopped, and gave Sunset a scrutinizing look, and not altogether wholesome look.

“The stones of this castle whisper of one of great ability who walks its halls once more. I would urge you to consider the nature of mastery, and to not forget to look inward.

“Peeves is lounging around outside the astronomy tower. I can hear his self-congratulatory cackle even now.”

Sunset, for her part, was also giving the Baron a not-entirely-friendly look, before taking some effort into breathing out the tension, and nodding at the ghost.

“Thank you, Lord Baron.”

The Baron’s expression also softened, and he gave another bow. “I unlive to serve.”

—

Sunset indeed only had one word for Peeves. That word was “Stay.”

She sauntered up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower, contemplating the nature of factional animosity. Was quidditch, the house cup rivalry, and the actual physical divide between the houses during spare time a product of tribalism, or the other way around?

Many times during her life, Sunset had been exposed to the sentiment of her needing to have friends, and not just from Celestia. If she humored those wishes, what was actually being asked of her?

What kind of friends did she need? How many? How encompassing were her friendships to be?

The people wishing her to have friends would scoff at the idea of rejecting friendship altogether. Sunset would consider the opposite, to be friends with everyone in all realities to be even more ridiculous, so the correct number would be somewhere in between that.

… And could, would, or should she reject people who were enemies with each other? If yes, wouldn’t that mean picking sides in conflicts she had no interest in? If not, who would it fall to to solve hostilities between her hypothetical friends? Herself, probably, and it was not something she looked forward to.

Sunset took a deep breath, still not convinced of the worth of the whole idea.

“Password?” the fat lady asked.

Sunset paused.

“Do you feel that your relation with the students is a little too transactionary?” Sunset asked her.

The fat lady hummed to herself in her seat, and called to someone outside the frame of the painting. “Violet! When was the last time a student expressed concern for me?”

“Nineteen-eighty-six!” a voice came from the side.

The fat lady turned to Sunset. “Not too transactionary, but see it as a credit to yourself that you ask if you wish. Why do you ask?”

Sunset shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe I’m exploring new sides of myself?”

The lady chuckled. “You’ve got quite an old girl inside you, don’t you?”

“Some people have a strange relation with time. No requests then?”

The fat lady hummed, and selected a bottle from the collection on the table in front of her. “Perhaps find a painting of a lime. I hear it works well with this,” she said, and lifted a wicker-wrapped bottle. “Gift from the governor in the west before he passed away from dropsy.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Sunset said, as the Fat Lady opened up her portrait, and walked into the common room, passing by Ginny, sitting next to her brothers.

“Hey, Sunset,” Ginny asked, looking up from her Standard Book of Spells. “Did you get it all out?”

“Yep,” Sunset simply said.

“Get all of what out?” Fred asked.

“Uhm… Peeves was…”

“What?” George pressed.

“He… dropped a bottle of ink on Sunset.”

The twins grinned at each other. “Oooh, and we missed it.”

“More exciting things have already happened since,” Sunset noted, and turned around to walk up the stairs to the dorm, fishing out the old potions bottle from her robes, and smirked a little at the contents. “Hasn’t it?”

Peeves, for his part, was still trying to figure out what was going on, which was difficult when squeezed into a container a fraction of one’s volume.

“I think I’ll keep you in here for a few days,” Sunset noted, mostly to herself, as Peeves wouldn’t hear anything in his little habitat. “See if you learn anything from it. If you don’t, then you’ll wish you were dealing with the Baron instead of me.”

Author's Notes:

Yeah, this took a while. There've been a lot of distractions, and this wasn't a super easy chapter to write. There's not a lot in the source material to work with for a chapter such as this, so here's some water-treading disguised as progress.

Pre-read by ssokolow, Snuffy, and Blue Horizon.

Taste For Blood

If one was not sold on the concept of cooperation, one could simply consider the weather. Rain could be very annoying, and wind could be very annoying, but it’s when they join forces that truly miserable weather happens.

Sunset Shimmer still wasn’t sold on the concept of cooperation, but then again, she barely felt the effect of the terrible weather as she walked through the less visited utilitarian parts of the castle grounds, as magic made the water almost boil and rapidly evaporate from her, giving her a shroud of thick steam.

She was out in what others would consider awful weather after a first year student in her house, one Colin Creevey, had drawn attention to how Sunset was the tallest girl in her class, and Sunset had felt everyone studying her.

A thatched stable was in the rear portion of the castle, and the fact that it was two stories told Sunset what kind of creature inhabited it. She walked up and opened the half door, stepping out of the rain and letting herself dry off for a few moments as she looked around.

The bottom booths were empty of denizens, and instead filled with piles of hay. Not hay for food either, but for frolicking in. Ramps led up to a second story with its own booths, with a great opening alcove in the middle for anyone up there to look down at the first floor.

Sunset narrowed her eyes, and put one hand in front of one of them.

“Oh, of course. There you are,” she said, finally noticing the dozens of thestrals looking curiously at her from the upper floor. Thestrals do not voluntarily rest on ground level.

Their eyes showed unabashed curiosity as she retrieved her silver knife, normally in her potions kit, from a pocket inside her cloak, and started to prick herself in her fingers.

As little globs of blood formed on the top of her digits, the thestrals’ attention grew more focused, and many of them considered leaving the comfort of their loft to inspect further.

“Come on down, snacktime,” Sunset said, and placed her knife back into her cloak, holding her hand out.

Silently as moonlight on still water, the dark equines slipped down the opening of their loft, and surrounded Sunset like a great cloud of dark smoke, with dozens of slightly reflective eyes in it.

It would have been a quite unnerving image for one unfamiliar with thestrals, but Sunset knew better. She held out her hand, and the ones closest lowered their heads, and three silken tongues started rapidly lapping up the delicious treat.

Sunset smiled and petted one who was looking over her shoulder at her leaking fingers. “Don’t worry, there’s enough for you too,” she said, as the three currently feeding ones, a bit reluctantly, backed away to make room for their friends.

“Hold on, let me just…” Sunset said after a while, and massaged her lower arm and hand to replenish the flow. “That’s it. You feel fine, don’t you? You’re not getting cursed.”

The one by her shoulder put a leather wing around her and leaned into her petting, when suddenly, the door opened, and a giant figure stepped in.

“Huh? Wus goin’ on ‘ere?” Rubeus Hagrid asked, slightly pressingly.

“Oh, hello, mister Hagrid,” Sunset, and gave him a slightly sheepish look over her shoulder. “I just thought these colts and fillies might like a snack.”

Hagrid took a moment to digest what was happening, an alarmed look on his face, before it instead turned into an amazed one.

“By Merlin, I ain’t never seen anythin’ like this,” he said, and chuckled a bit nervously. “Most students who can see our thestrals ain’t too keen on gettin’ close.”

Sunset sniffed the mane of the one with his wing around her, then turned back to Hagrid. “Why? They smell perfectly clean to me.”

Hagrid was quiet for a moment, before letting out a loud guffaw.

When he calmed down, he walked up close to Sunset and placed the bucket, filled with blood, on the stone floor. “Feedin’ time,” he said.

Only half the thestrals, mainly the ones who had already had a taste of Sunset’s blood, disengaged from the cauldron to feed from this new source.

Hagrid looked on in befuddlement at the lukewarm interest of the thestrals.

“What’s in the bucket?” Sunset asked, glancing at it over her shoulder.

“Rooster blood,” Hagrid said, and tried spying past the bundle of heads over Sunset’s hand. “What’s tha’ ye got there, lass?”

The dark equines eagerly followed Sunset’s hand, as she brought it up long enough to show Hagrid before letting them keep feeding, the blood being lapped up before it had time to revert back to a silver color.

Hagrid stood in silence for several seconds, before he spoke again, a bit carefully. “Ye’ve eh… grown up ‘roun’ thestrals, have ye?”

A small frown slowly grew on Sunset’s face, aimed away from Hagrid, as she kept petting the stallion on his neck.

“... There were some around, yeah.”

“Who’d’ye, erm… how come ye can see ‘em?”

Sunset glanced back at Hagrid with a confused look on her face. “I’m… just used to them, that’s all. Neville’s the one with the sharp eyes. He spots them instantly.”

Hagrid nodded slowly. “Does he?” he said, and stood in silence for a while, before shaking whatever he had been thinking about away. “Anyway, seems yer a new favorite. Never seen ‘em prefer anythin’ other’n what I feed ‘em.”

Sunset tutted, and the one by her shoulder finally got his taste. “Dessert first eh? I’ll try and time it better next time.”

“Ye don’t need ter feed ‘em though,” Hagrid said. “I do that.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Also, I know they only really need blood, but I would still give them some vegetables and things, put a little meat on them.”

Hagrid looked a little sheepish. “They, erm… never been interested in anythin’ else.”

Sunset kept scratching the chins of the one feeding on her. “Oh, picky are we? You a spoiled boy, mm?” she cooed.

“So, erhm… are ye goin’ ter pick Care of Magical Creatures fer next year?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Erhm, next year. Ye’ve got ter pick more subjects, ‘n’... Care of Magical Creatures is one o’ ‘em.”

“Oh, right, I forgot that,” Sunset said, and gave it some thought.

She wanted to turn into an alicorn. If she succeeded, and she had all intention of doing so, it would be a transformation of sorts, and transformation, the way Hogwarts taught its subjects, fell under the category of transfiguration.

Obviously, something as monumental as ascension to alicornhood wouldn’t be covered by something as banal as a transfiguration formula, but still, expanding her portfolio of knowledge on the subject of transfiguration might help in the end, if it required her to come up with her own magical solution on how to ascend, and the same sentiment could apply to knowledge of magical creatures in general.

“... Yeah… I think I will,” she said.

Hagrid smiled underneath his big, bushy beard, before looking out at the still ongoing torrential downpour.

“Doesn’t look like it’ll let up anytime soon,” he said. “Would ye like me ter walk ye up ter the castle? I’ve got an umbrella.”

“Uh… yes I would, thank you,” Sunset said, grateful for a chance to imply to a member of the staff that she couldn’t solve absolutely everything herself.

As they walked through the gray shower, Sunset spied Hagrid’s cottage in the distance.

“How’s your house doing in this weather?” she asked, loudly, to make herself heard over the noise of the heavy rain.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Hagrid said, waving her concerns away. “Have ter keep the fire lit at all times, but other’n that, ’s no problem.”

“Right,” Sunset said, and noted that the piled up firewood was still getting fairly soaked despite the roof over it.

It was a little far away to do a thorough job, but she still surreptitiously waved her index finger in the direction of Hagrid’s hut, drawing out a lot of the excess dampness out of both the firewood and the inside of the hut, forming it into floating balls of water that she let fall onto the wet ground, undetectable by anyone after the fact, and helping Hagrid keeping his home dry.

“Well, thanks for the shelter, Mister Hagrid,” Sunset said, shaking off the rain that had landed on her cloak regardless, as they entered the castle.

“Aye, happy ter help,” he said, smiling easily, before walking back into the rain towards his home.

—

The rainy weather persisted for weeks, and while many from her home would’ve been horrified that it was allowed to go on like this without any weather teams clearing it up, Sunset found herself actually enjoying it in a sense.

The damp chill was permeating and being felt most everywhere in the castle, but that also meant that the shelters from it, the heat from the fireplaces in the common rooms and dormitories, were all the more cozy- sanctuary from the slowly encroaching cold and dark.

One less pleasant thing about this time was that, perhaps in part thanks to the weather, flu and colds were running rampant, and many students and a few of the staff were walking around with runny noses.

Sunset had realized too late that she was infected, and had come down with one of the sicknesses herself. It didn’t last very long though, since even before Madam Pomfrey had coerced her into drinking her pepperup potion, Sunset used the fact that her body could handle vastly greater temperatures than the virus, heating up her body and purging them all quickly and neatly.

What damage it had done did leave her tired though, and she welcomed an excuse to curl up in an armchair, wrapped in a blanket, in front of the fireplace in the common room. To practice potions she would have had to sit upright, so that was out, but practicing transfiguration and charms only required her waving her wand-arm out of her cocoon, like a textile cephalopod.

“Whatcha doin’?” Dean asked, leaning over the backrest, as the rest of her classmates, sans Harry who was out practicing Quidditch, were filing in from the portrait hole.

“Examining the components of magical formulae, specifically the effect of movement from the caster, in detail,” Sunset said, waving her baton-like wand, then glancing up from underneath her blanket and seeing Dean and Seamus’ blank faces. “By which I mean what effects the swishing has when casting a spell.”

“What do you mean, ‘effect’?” Dean asked. “It… it makes the spell go.”

“'Makes it go’, yes I suppose that’s not incorrect,” Sunset granted, and then considered the two boys for a time.

“What?” Seamus asked.

“Oh, just thinking about stuff. What I could say to you in response to what you just said, whether I should, if that’s good for anyone, or immediately satisfying, and what it would mean if it were, and so on.”

“What are you on about?” Ron asked, as the rest of her classmates settled down into the nearby couches and armchairs.

“Nothing,” Sunset said. “Just that while ‘it makes it go’ is all good and well for understanding magic, I’d recommend being ready to examine things on a deeper level.”

“What’s that got to do with the wand movement?” Hermione asked.

“... Ron, show us Wingardium Leviosa,” Sunset said.

“What?”

“... Oh yeah, you’re right,” Sunset said, remembering Ron’s busted wand, and pointed at the discarded junk lying on the table in front of them. “Lavender. Show us Wingardium Leviosa on that candy wrapper.”

A bit uncertain about what trick Sunset had up her sleeve, Lavender waved her wand and said, “Wingardium Leviosa.”

The candy wrapper floated up into the air, and hovered above the table.

“Right. So it was about a year ago you got the hang of this. Your movements were much slopper this time.”

Lavender shot Sunset a slightly wounded look. “I’ve been practicing other stuff! Other spells.”

“Yep,” Sunset agreed.

“So… you know, it goes without saying it wouldn’t be as good this time.”

“Yes, exactly.”

There was a confused and somewhat tense silence around the table.

Sunset decided to help them along on their way. “And my point is that it still worked. I suspect the reason why it still worked is a subject that will come up in later years.”

All her classmates looked down at their books and wands in confusion, except Hermione, who gave Sunset a long and somewhat intrigued look.

—

Friday meant double potions, which was something Sunset had braced herself for. She just got the feeling that some lingering irk of Snape’s would manifest in a bad mood, but Harry was the lightning rod for Snape’s whims so long as Sunset managed to keep her head down.

Sunset felt that there was something in the air, like a gathering storm, or dozens of frustrated people trying not to be the first one to blow up and make a scene, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

Maybe it was discharges of miscast cheering charms evaporating from the walls, or perhaps a nervous cat was always just a corridor ahead of her, but Sunset felt that there was something.

“Madam Shimmer,” a wheezing voice spoke as she exited the potions classroom, making her jump.

She took a breath to calm herself. “Lord Baron,” she said, as her classmates looked at her, wondering what business she might have with Slytherin’s ghost.

“Great is your prowess and laudable are your skills, but the time has come. When one takes freedom from another, the line between justice and crime can be unclear. The… creature… needs its freedom.”

The Baron gave Sunset a small nod, who bowed and floated away through a wall.

She let out a sigh, afraid that he would’ve revealed more about her skills to her classmates, but thankfully it probably wasn’t very bad.

The Baron was right however. Sunset had completely forgotten Peeves.

Her classmates started moving on, glancing back to see if there was anything more revealed, when Draco walked up to her.

“What did he mean?” he asked.

“Uh… just a little side project,” Sunset said, smiling apologetically at him. “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I guess the feast starts soon. We should probably get rid of our books.”

“Yes. I’ll see you there,” Draco said.

“Yeah, see you,” Sunset said, knowing full well that they sat at different tables.

“What was that about? What needs its freedom?” Harry asked Sunset as she caught up with the rest of her house.

“Ah, nothing,” Sunset said.

“And why are you always chumming with the Slytherins?” Ron said.

“I wouldn’t say I am,” Sunset said, struggling for a way to say that Draco was just following her without being rude about it. “I’m just… going about my own business.”

Ron looked at her cautiously. “Yeah… right.”

Sunset finally realized something. “Hey, why aren’t you all excited?” she asked Ron. “It’s a feast tonight. You love feasts.”

“Can’t go,” Harry said. “Promised Nick we’d attend his death party.

“Oh… uh… that’s interesting,” Sunset said, as tactfully as she could manage. “Uh… get souvenirs.”

“Right,” Ron muttered.

Sunset hurried up to the dormitories ahead of Hermione and the siamese gossip duo, and retrieved the old potions bottle with Peeves squeezed into it from the drawer in her bed’s end table.

“You’re lucky, you know, and probably ungrateful too,” Sunset said, and opened the window, casually dropping the bottle to the stone tiles far, far below. “Enjoy your freedom.”

Over the past year, Sunset had somehow picked up that Harry and Ron weren’t friends with Hermione until Halloween, one year ago, when that changed thanks to the troll incident.

Sunset double checked that her spell that blocked scents was fresh in her mind, in case more trolls showed up.

There were a few more hours until the feast was to begin, and the feeling of tension and unease was still lingering in the castle, even in Gryffindor tower. Sunset looked out the window she had just pushed Peeves’ little habitat out of, and decided to take a walk along the grounds, which were empty despite the weather having cleared up.

She slipped out through the open front gate of the castle, and started prowling along the castle grounds, along the gardens and greenhouses, through overgrown stone patios, around copses of trees, and by the gates leading out of the castle ground.

The tension was easier here, barely perceptible. One option could be to try and ask the Dark Forest, though she suspected that it wouldn’t tell her anything that she didn’t already know.

She wandered, deep in thought, along the banks of the lake, when a fiery red shape streaked past her in the gathering dark of the evening. Sunset congratulated herself on keeping her composure, unlike with the Bloody Baron, and spied out over the surface of the water to see a slightly glowing shape zooming low enough to touch the water, and then ascend again.

Sunset smiled, and called out to it.

“Fawkes!”

A melodic cry was let out, but was aborted after a second, and he banked around and headed towards Sunset, who held out an arm for him.

He landed on it, and trilled in greeting.

“And good evening to you too,” she said, and looked around to make sure she was alone, before conjuring a flame in the palm of her hand that she let the phoenix bask his plumage in. “Are you out hunting?”

Fawkes lightly spread his wings and cried playfully, making Sunset nod in understanding. He did look a little sagged.

“Mmm, getting a little long in the beak then?

Fawkes squawked, and puffed up his plumage.

“Of course you still can, but…” Sunset looked around again. “No one has to know if you got a little help.”

The phoenix gave Sunset a scrutinizing glare, then let out a mumble-like trill.

“Right. Let me just…” Sunset spied around her again, and walked out towards the water.

As she approached the surface, her hair glowed, and the water formed a thick walkway of solid ice for her that she walked on top of.

Some ways out onto the darkened waters, she willed the ice to form into a wider platform, and walked over to the edge, staring down into the depths.

After a moment, Fawkes let out an eager squawk.

“I see it.”

The ways of marine life are complex and fascinating, but the life of a single fish is a fairly simple one. Swim out of your egg, chew at things that are probably food, spit it out again if it turns out to not be food, flee from the unfamiliar and some of the familiar, lay eggs or fertilize eggs, then pass away and turn into food for other aquatic creatures.

There’s more to it than that, but not much, and if it had any more cognisant capacity, it would’ve let out a mildly curious “huh,” the split second it had to react if it was to be flash frozen in the middle of going about its business.

Sunet levitated out the fish, frozen in a sphere of ice, from the water.

“Well, look at that,” Sunset said, floating the ice sphere closer to herself and Fawkes. “Some sort of bass? If there was a sou’wester around, I’d say I’ve earned it.”

Fawkes spread his wings and trilled eagerly.

“Alright, keep your tail feathers on,” Sunset said, and sauntered back to shore. “Do you want it cleaned out or do you take it as-is?”

Fawkes whistled.

“Right. Good. Because I’ve never cleaned a fish before.”

Sunset knocked the surrounding ice from the cold fish, and conjured a fire mid-air underneath the fish, and refocused all the heat towards their catch, cooking it at great speed and dripping boiling juice out of it on the shingle below.

“Like this, right? And a little charred?

Fawkes whistled encouragingly.

“More? Okay.”

Once the bass was almost completely blackened on the outside, Fawkes trilled again.

“Dinner is served.”

Fawkes turned his head and whistled at Sunset.

“Yeah, I suppose it’s time to head back to the feast. And now you have one as well. Here, let me just put a temporary lightening charm on it. It should last up to Dumbledore’s study.”

Fawkes trilled again, and nuzzled Sunset’s cheek.

“Alright, you’re welcome,” she said, smiling. “He wouldn’t neglect you when there’s a feast in the castle, right?”

Fawkes trilled, and lifted off to grab the fish in his talons, and flew away to the castle.

“I thought he wouldn’t,” Sunset said, and walked back towards the Great Hall.

“Hello, Sunset,” Neville said, when she walked up to her classmates sitting around the table, and scooted to the side, making room for her. By the looks of things, she was the last to arrive.

“Thanks,” she said, and sat down next to him.

“So where are the clowns?” Fred asked in the general direction of Sunset’s year.

There was a pregnant pause, before everyone realized what he was talking about.

“Oh, them,” Sunset said, as she grabbed a pumpkin piece appetizer. “Apparently, Nick is throwing a party and they were invited.”

“Huh. Alright,” Fred said, as his sister walked up in almost a daze, sat down next to him, and grabbed a fork and started poking her plate before realizing there was nothing on it. “Hey, Ginny. You look like you’ve been in Professor Kettleburn’s medicine cabinet.”

“Huh? What?” she said, looking up at her brother.

“Ginny,” Percy said on the other side of the twins. “Did you take the potion I gave you?”

“Easy, Perce,” George said. “She did. She needs a feast. We all need a feast. Where is it?”

As if on cue, it materialized in front of them. Sunset almost forgot to inspect the brief display of magic like she had the last few feasts, but she was fairly certain that the food was magically transported from inside the castle.

“Now that’s more like it,” George said, and grabbed a plate of pork, emptying half in his plate, and the other half on Ginny’s.

The buzz of talking around them was replaced by the buzz of eating, and Sunset realized that she was no longer feeling the tension from before. Whatever caused it might have vanished, or the feeling of elation emanating from the people around her was overpowering it, but she was grateful it was gone.

Sunset dug in heartily. Cadence had said that Sunset needed more love in her life, that she needed to show more of it. Sunset disagreed. Sunset had plenty of love, and she showed it, especially to fried potatoes.

“Want some fried potatoes with that?” Parvati said in a smarmy voice, holding out the plate with refills.

“Yes, thank you,” Sunset simply said, and dumped the rest onto her own plate.

“So how come none of us were invited to Nick’s party?” Dean asked. “I bet ghosts really know how to really have a Halloween party.”

“Oh don’t even think about it,” Lavender said, shaking her head. “My great great great great–” she stopped briefly to count in her head”–great great great aunt is a ghost, and trust me, you don’t want ghost food.”

“Okay,” Dean said, shrugging.

Neville was looking around for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, which Sunset grabbed from her side for him.

“Potion of Thirst Quenching?” she offered, making Seamus snigger.

“By the way, ease off on the eating, Sunset,” Lavender suddenly said, a bit sharply.

“Why?” she asked, around the mouth full of food.

“You snore, and it’s worse when you eat a lot,” Parvati said.

Sunset just shrugged. “There are solutions to this, you know.”

“Like what?”

“We’re in a school for magic, you know.”

After the dessert had left the table, McGonagall intercepted a speech from Lockhart, and the student body started pouring out into the corridor, simmering with contentedness.

Sunset was picking her teeth, when suddenly everything was quiet and still.

She craned her neck to see around an older girl, and saw what everyone was staring at.

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger, all stood frozen, their bodies turned towards the wall, but their heads turned to stare at the silent crowd.

From a torch bracket on the wall, Mrs Norris, Filch’s cat, was hanging by her tail, looking as if she was frozen in place, and above her, in huge letters, were written the words, all in capital letters.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Sunset glanced around. A part of her wanted to elbow her way forward and take a closer look, but a louder part of her insisted to keep her head down, and blend into the crowd.

“Enemies of the heir, beware!” Malfoy read from the crowd on the other side of the corridor. “You’ll be next, Mudbloods!”

Sunset gave him a skeptical look, but for once, thankfully, Malfoy’s attention was somewhere else.

“What’s going on here? What’s going on?” Sunset heard Argus Filch shout, pushing his way through the crowd.

Sunset stepped aside, not looking forward to what was to happen next.

When Filch saw his cat, he stepped back in horror, and Sunset could smell the despair, quickly followed by rage, as he babbled in despair.

“My cat! My cat! What’s happened to Mrs Norris!?

“... You!” he yelled at Harry. “You! You’ve murdered my cat! You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll–”

As a wide-eyed Harry was about to take a step back, there was another voice from behind them.

“Argus!”

Sunset turned to see Dumbledore striding towards them, and made more room for him and the cadre of faculty members following him.

Dumbledore briskly walked past everyone in the corridor and took Mrs Norris into his arms.

“Come with me, Argus. You too, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger.”

Lockhart jumped up with his usual smile, somewhat inappropriate considering the mood of his surroundings. “My Office is nearest, Headmaster, just upstairs, please feel free…”

“Thank you, Gilderoy.”

Dumbledore, Lockhart, McGonagall, and Snape, all left in the direction of Lockhart’s office, while Flitwick stared after them for several moments, before he turned to the students.

“Well, there’s no reason to stand around here, everyone. Bedtime calls,” he said, in a carefully neutral voice.

The sea of students started moving, and Sunset walked deliberately slowly past the source of all this drama, giving the letters a long look as she did.

“Come on,” Lavender said, grabbing Sunset’s arm and pulling her along.

Someone else who was moving slowly was Draco, just a bit ahead of her.

Before he turned around a corner, he caught Sunset’s eye, and an excited smirk grew on his face.

As soon as they were out of earshot of any teachers, the student body exploded in excited and alarmed chatter.

“What was that!?”

“Did you see her hanging like that?”

“Well, of course, everyone hates Filch.”

“But what does it mean?”

“Do you think Potter or Weasley killed Mrs Norris?”

“Watch it, you’re talking about my brother.”

“What’s the Chamber of Secrets?”

“It’s a Slytherin that did it. It’s always a Slytherin.”

“... But don’t hurt the cat.”

“But the three of them were just standing there.”

“Keep in mind that Granger is really skilled. I’ve seen her doing third year transfigurations.”

“I think the whole chamber-business is just to throw people off.”

“We shouldn’t forget the teachers. They’re the most powerful witches and wizards in the castle.”

“Well I’ve heard of the Chamber of Secrets.”

“Hah! Keep an eye out for people acting odd? That’s half the castle.”

With a feast in their bellies weighing them down, the students didn’t stop in the common room to gossip, and instead kept going up the stairs to the dormitories.

Lavender closed the door behind them, and let out a sigh, relieved to be back in the safety of the dorms.

Sunset could understand. There were a few times she really appreciated the luxurious bedroom, with the warm light from the fireplace dancing lightly around, and this night was one of them.

“What do you think happened?” Lavender asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think Harry or Ron or Hermione did it,” Parvati said.

“No. Especially not Hermione. Even if Harry or Ron wanted to do anything, she wouldn’t let them,” Lavender agreed.

“What do you think, Sunset?”

“I agree,” Sunset said, climbing into bed and reaching for her book. “Besides, I’m guessing Nick will provide an alibi.”

“That’s right,” Lavender nodded eagerly, as she too lay down. “But what happened to Mrs Norris?”

“Frozen in place,” Sunset said, jotting down that as a note for things to research. “Well, goodnight, you two.”

“... Goodnight.”

Author's Notes:

Pre-read by Snuffy, Ssokolow, Blue Horizon.

Something Insidious

“All students! I will have your attention!” McGonagall called out during breakfast. “I have an announcement to make concerning the incident yesterday!”

That last part made the buzz die down immediately, and every eye in the hall was aimed at her.

“Those of you that weren’t present yesterday will no doubt have heard that Mrs Norris, the cat of caretaker Argus Filch, was attacked, and a message written on the wall at the same location. Mrs Norris has been petrified”– Sunset frowned in confusion –” but is not dead, and a treatment for petrification is being worked on as we speak. Professor Sprout will be taking care of the acquisition of the necessary ingredients, whereupon Professor Snape will concoct the potion. Needless to say, interruptions of any kind in their work will not be tolerated.

“There are no suspects as of yet, and rumors and speculations among yourselves will not be helpful, and you are to refrain from concocting or sharing them…”

Sunset rolled her eyes.

“... If you do have information regarding the incident, you are to inform a member of the faculty. If the guilty party would care to admit to their wrongdoings, we will accept them doing so in private. This is no time for panic, or the facilitation of panic, and you will all be expected to conduct yourselves in the same orderly manner as you always are. That is all.”

The silence continued for almost three seconds, before the same hushed but excited buzz that McGonagall had interrupted continued, even more intense than before.

McGonagall’s eyebrow twitched, and she took a slow, deep breath before rolling up the paper she had been reading with very stiff motions.

“Petrified?” Parvati whispered.

“Why were people talking about a beast before?” Neville asked, in a nervous voice.

“Because a beast was obviously in the Chamber of Secrets,” Dean said.

“How long has it been in there?” Lavender noted, skeptically.

There was a tense pause as people’s minds raced to come up with an answer fast enough to keep the gossip train going.

“Maybe since before the school was made,” Seamus suggested.

“Well… shouldn’t it have… you know… starved?” Neville asked.

There was another frantic pause before Dean came up with an explanation. “Maybe it doesn’t need food,” he said, but this didn’t sit well with the others.

“Maybe it petrifies itself to conserve energy,” Sunset said.

She meant it as a joke, but Seamus pointed at her and gave her a smile of recognition, as if it was a really clever piece of insight.

Neville urgently turned to Sunset. “What creature petrifies things?”

“Uh… cockatrices, gorgons, The Silent Choir…”

“What’s The Silent Choir?” Seamus asked.

“What? Oh, uh… it was an army, like, back in mythical times, of animated stone soldiers that turned people to animated stone soldiers like themselves with their breath, press-ganging them. Anyway, they’re supposedly all gone. And that’s another thing. I didn’t get a good look at Mrs Norris, but she didn’t look petrified to me.”

“Oh you’re an expert, are you?” Parvati asked, skeptically.

“No,” Sunset said, airily. “But it looked more like some sort of stasis effect.”

“That’s what petrification is, innit?” Seamus noted.

“Not the way I know it.”

“What creatures have… stasis effects, then?” Neville pressed.

“Well… I don’t know,” Sunset said, shaking her head slightly, deep in thought. “Spontaneously, I’d say changelings, but… that’s not entirely right either.”

“Changelings?”

“Yeah, changelings.”

When they kept looking at her with blank looks, she figured that maybe they were called something else on this plane of existence, and continued. “Master infiltrators. Very dangerous. They're insectoid people that can alter their voice and appearance, steal your identity or the identity of people around you, and they keep their victims in pods… you know, in stasis,” Sunset clarified.

She noticed the silence in her immediate vicinity, and looked around to see her classmates staring at her with horrified looks, figuring that in that case changelings did not exist here, or people would know about them. Neville especially was white as a sheet.

“Uh, look, the thing with changelings is that you never know when they’re around, but even so, don’t worry, we don’t actually have any changelings among us.”

“H-how do you know?” Neville asked.

“Ask me for our secret phrase,” Sunset simply said.

“Wh-what secret phrase?”

“Exactly. We don’t have a secret phrase,” Sunset said. “A changeling wouldn’t know that… you know, unless they’ve been among us for a long time.”

When the silence persisted, Sunset continued a bit more forcefully.

“There are no changelings around, okay? Besides, they don’t leave their victims around to be found, with warnings in public places written in big, glowing letters. You don’t get any less changeling-like than that.”

Everyone looked up at the looming figure of Minerva McGonagall standing over Sunset with a displeased look on her face.

“I believe I made it very clear that no rumors were to be spread, Miss Shimmer,” she said, in a tense voice.

“That’s what I’m saying,” Sunset said, exasperation creeping into her voice, as she looked at her classmates. “There are no changelings at Hogwarts, trust me on this.”

McGonagall opened her mouth, but shut it again, surprised by her own reaction to those words. When she rallied again, she simply nodded, and strode off.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been sitting quietly in the corner, but now Hermione spoke up.

“These changelings… do they come from the same place as you?”

“Uuuh… I think they have spawning chambers rather than nurseries, but other than that… sort of, I guess,” Sunset deflected

“But they can’t do magic, can they? Like wizard magic?” Ron asked.

“Sure they can, like the famous archmage… uh… his name is kinda hard to translate,” Sunset said, thinking, before giving up. <<Hocus Locust.>>

“Whoa, that sounds dangerous,” Dean noted about the foreign tongue.

—

Sunset sat in the far back of the classroom during History of Magic, with her eyes shut from deep concentration.

She had tried to set up a magical arrangement where her quill would act as a stenographer to Professor Binns as he let out a relentless, homogenous, and utterly mind-murderingly boring stream of historical facts, but it failed. Sunset found it to be a little like a muggle television machine when they just showed static, and her quill apparently agreed, since it frequently stopped working unless she tried listening too, and continuously helped it along and willed it to keep writing.

The attendance of the warlock convention of 1289 was the highest in eight years, and the first topic was- er… oh. Miss… er…?

Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets.

(Insert onomatopoeia that conveys a sudden shock of activity as a dozen students sit up to take notice)

Sunset’s brow furrowed, and she opened her eyes to read what she thought she wrote.

“My subject is History of Magic. I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends,” he said, before clearing his throat and continuing on. “In September of that year, a sub-committee of Sardininan Sorcerers –”

Hermione waved her hand again, and Sunset magically set her quill down, intending to listen and not just record for later analysis.

“Miss Grant?”

“Please, sir, don’t legends always have a basis in fact?”

Binns was staring at Hermione as if he was struggling with the concept of having a conversation, which, Sunset realized, was not completely unlikely.

“Well…” he eventually said. “Yes, one could argue that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale…”

But the pregnant silence was deafening, and this much attention seemed to, for lack of a better phrase, breathe life into Professor Binns and his presentation. By her unspoken command, Sunset’s pencil magically made a note in the margins about that, and that perhaps magically the effect of which could be synthetically reproduced.

“Oh very well,” Professor Binns eventually reletented. “Let me see… the Chamber of Secrets. you all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago- the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution.”

What followed was a small summary of how, after a period of training magically gifted children as expected, Slytherin had a falling out with the others, especially with Gryffindor, over the selection of students, and how Slytherin wanted to only train children of purely magical families. Slytherin had left the school, but had a hidden chamber in the castle, only known to himself, and that only his heir would be able to unseal it, and reveal some horror within, to enforce Slytherin’s will.

“The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course,” Binns said, a bit impatiently. “Naturally, the school has searched for evidence of such a chamber many times by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible.”

“Sir!” Hermione insisted, her hand in the air. “What exactly do you mean by the ‘horror within the chamber’?”

“That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the heir of Slytherin alone can control.”

Sunset was leaning back in her seat. <<So there is a monster?>> she muttered to herself.

“I tell you, the thing does not exist. There is no Chamber and no monster.”

Seamus was the next to speak. “But sir, if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin’s true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?”

“Nonsense, O’Flaherty. If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven’t found the thing–”

“But Professor,” said Parvati. “You’d probably have to use Dark Magic to open it.

“Just because a wizard doesn’t use Dark Magic, doesn’t mean he can’t, Miss Penny–”

“Why is the tale so ludicrous?” Sunset interjected, in her most calm and confident voice.

Binns paused, and looked at Sunset, who met his gaze steadily.

“Because… the nature of the tale makes it obvious,” he said.

“Why?” Sunset said, only slightly too fast and pressingly for comfort.

“The… the likelihood of it being true is just too minute.”

“Yes but can you explain further?”

Binns pulled himself up to a greater height, which was quite easy seeing as he could float. “I do not entertain stories and myths, I deal in facts, and there are no facts that support the existence of the Chamber.”

“You don’t know of any facts that support the claim, which makes your position on the subject a respectable one,” Sunset said, and calmly waved a hand to indicate the room at large. “But what we clearly want to know is if there are any facts that disprove the whole subject. If there are none, the legend remains our only point of data, wouldn’t you say? Are there any positive or negative facts on the subject?”

Binns had been in the process of puffing himself up even further, charging up a retort, when Sunset finished speaking.

“Y… yes, that… is correct, there are no facts regarding it whatsoever, and so it does not exist. Now… uhm… oh yes, the matters discussed in 1289…”

People stayed awake for a few more minutes after the whole exchange, but no more than that.

Sunset, however, stopped taking notes, magically blocked out the sound of Binns’ voice, and sat in deep contemplation for the rest of the class.

When the bell rang, the class didn’t bother waiting until they were out of earshot before talking about secret chambers and monsters.

“We knew it, we totally knew it. There’s a monster somewhere in the castle,” said Dean.

“Well stop sounding so excited about it,” Lavender said.

“I’m not, I’m just saying we knew it.”

“What are we gonna do, Sunset?” Neville asked in a nervous voice. “What if the monster attacks us?”

Sunset looked at him, and something about his expression made her feel something she didn’t care for, even though she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what. She decided to look confident, and shrugged. “If it tries to hurt me it’ll be the last mistake it ever makes. If it has a nice coat, maybe I’ll make a new cloak out of it. Do you feel like taking it on?”

Neville quickly shook his head while giving Sunset a scared look.

“Alright, so if it attacks you, just come find me,” Sunset simply said.

“You wanna fight it?” Seamus said, having overheard what Sunset and Neville talked about.

"Sure."

“Why?”

“If it’s gonna run around attacking people it’s best to fight it early before it mentally wears everyone out. Besides, there’s only room for one monster in this school, and that’s me,” Sunset said matter-of-factly.

Her classmates continued throwing glances at her until they made it to the next class.

Sunset’s icy bravado wasn’t just attitude. Her studies between classes came to a momentary but complete halt, as all her spare time was spent shoring up her magical defenses.

Every morning, she surrounded herself with magical shields of the variety that wouldn’t stop her from functioning normally, but the whole petrification thing worried her. She believed the faculty when they claimed to be able to cure the so-called “petrification”, but she didn’t want the attention or the humiliation that would come from being petrified. She partially regretted her confident statements after class a few days ago, but she tried cutting herself some slack, and acknowledging that it was easy to get antsy from holding back for so long.

Luckily, Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender hadn’t noticed the myriad of protective spells she placed on the door and windows to the dormitory.

“What are you doing?” The Fat Lady asked, in a genuine tone, as Sunset, wand in hand, inspected every stone in the wall separating Gryffindor Tower from the rest of the castle.

“Seeing if there are any secret backdoors into the place I sleep,” Sunset answered.

“Oh, well, I’ve been looking at this corridor for over three hundred years, and I can count on a closed fist the number of times anyone has gotten into the tower from where you’re standing without walking through the entrance.”

Sunset was about to thank the Fat Lady for that, when she paused. “Wait, does that mean it’s happened one time, or zero?”

“Zero.”

“Okay then, excellent.”

“I assume you’re asking because of the rumors of monsters running rampant through the castle,” the Fat Lady continued, in a conversational tone.

“Yep,” Sunset said, still inspecting the stones closely.

“And you’re confident that you have the capability to find flaws in the castle’s protective measures that the faculty has overlooked?”

“Certainly not,” Sunset said, airily.

The Fat Lady looked surprised for a moment, before scoffing at Sunset’s attitude, smiling all the while.

“If you listen to the stones rather than look at them, you might hear whispers,” the Fat Lady said. “Whispers about powerful individuals walking the halls.”

“Oh? Who?” Sunset said, standing up and looking casually at the portrait.

The Fat Lady shook her head. “It’s just rumors.”

Sunset smirked, and nodded. “Just rumors indeed,” she said, and walked inside.

—

The second year students were lounging around the table by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, doing homework.

“What is a ‘mudblood’ anyway?” they heard Colin Creevey ask Ginny Weasley one set of couches away, which led to a discussion amongst themselves, since Dean Thomas wasn’t very clear on the concept either.

Neither was Sunset for that matter, but didn’t say as much, content to listen to the others explain it to Dean instead.

“But it’s all nonsense,” Ron said to the whole thing. “Plenty of muggleborns who’re as powerful as any witch or wizards, and plenty of purebloods who aren’t.”

No one said anything, but most of them glanced very quickly at Neville, who withdrew into his armchair slightly.

Sunset’s eyes narrowed, and she lightly tossed a paper aeroplane at him.

“No, not you,” she said, matter-of-factly, and meaning it.

Not that every pony in Equestria could do it, but scholars of magic, like Sunset, eventually learned to spot magic, raw magic.

It was often an imprecise discipline, like learning to use a new sense that you don’t exactly know the location of, but one could develop it.

Sunset had much left to learn when it came to the topic, but even in a place as Hogwarts, with so much interference, she could get a fairly good measure of a witch or wizard’s raw magic power.

The adage that looks could be deceiving applied here too, for example, a skinny person could be deceptively strong, and it could be hard to tell how easily one got results from exercise, but it mostly gave you a good idea of what to expect from someone.

Not that it mattered much when it came to witches and wizards, with their exclusive training on magic requiring a focus, and specifically the wand, which evened the playing field so very greatly, and one needed to have Dumbledore’s level of power to make a great difference.

Neville looked up in surprise at Sunset, while the rest squirmed slightly and tried to seem distracted.

“But I’m… not so… I’m the worst in class,” Neville weakly protested.

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean that you're magically weak,” Sunset said, still looking into her potions book.

That made the others look at her, curious. “It doesn’t?” Parvati asked.

“Nope,” Sunset simply said.

“How do you know?” Lavender asked.

"Because I can tell that Neville doesn’t have below average magic power,” Sunset said, and shrugged.

“How?” Dean asked.

Sunset shrugged again. “You just learn to, eventually.”

“Oh, come off,” Ron said. “You mean that you can tell how much magic all of us here have got?”

Sunset looked up from her book. “It’s not always completely accurate, but yes.”

“Oh yeah? What about Dumbledore?” Dean asked.

“He’s got tons,” Sunset simply said.

“So, what, are people like Malfoy right when they say that being a muggleborn makes you less of a wizard?” Ron asked, with something hard to his voice.

“I certainly wouldn’t say that,” Sunset noted, especially since she was fascinated with muggles’ ability to make do with less.

“Oh yeah? So are muggleborns weaker?”

Sunset leaned back, and concentrated.

Average amount of magical power was, as perhaps expected, the most common reading of the individuals around her. Harry was a bit above average, Dean was slightly below, but not so much that it would be noticeable when using wands.

A few individuals stood out as being more powerful than others, though non freakishly so, like Dumbledore, whose power could be felt from across a large room, but Colin Creevey and Hermione, who Sunset knew to be muggleborn, did have noticeably less raw magic power.

“Yeah, it seems so to me,” Sunset said.

Sunset barely noticed that Ron’s expression had darkened quite a bit.

“Seems to me that you’ve been hanging out with your Slytherin friends too much,” he said.

“Who?” Sunset asked, once again trying to read her book.

“Like Malfoy.”

Sunset tried to remember if Draco had said anything to the same effect about Gryffindor students, but she couldn’t place it.

“Why?” she simply asked.

“If you think that wizards are better because they’re purebloods, you need to stop spending time with them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever start thinking like that,” Sunset noted, starting to feel annoyed.

Ron took a deep breath, puffing himself up where he sat, looking angrily at Sunset. “If you go ‘round saying that muggleborns are magically weak, that is what you think.”

Sunset gave him a very unamused look, before scoffing, and standing up.

“I’d be more concerned about what it says about someone who asks questions without intending to listen,” she said, coldly, and walked up to the dorms to turn in early

—

The next day was a Quidditch match, and Sunset waited until she was the absolute last person heading down towards the pitch before she broke off from the crowd and headed back into the castle. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, and even less to be surrounded by people screaming about some ceremonialized display of very specific kinds of physical prowess.

Besides, it also looked like it was going to rain.

Even most of the faculty attended Quidditch, so for a few hours Sunset had the run of the castle, except for the easily spotted Filch. She was about to include Mrs. Norris, but remembered herself.

It was time for monster-hunting.

Except, Sunset had to admit, frustratingly, she didn’t know whether there were actually monsters in the castle.

A cat had been locked in stasis magic, a threatening message had been left on a wall, and three suspects, unlikely ones at that, had been found at the scene. These three pieces of information were the only facts Sunset had to work with.

After that came rumors. Hearsay, speculation, and sensationalism.

Maybe the Chamber of Secrets was real, maybe it was like someone said minutes after the event, that it was a way to throw people off.

Then, of course, there was the fact that someone who could rival Dumbledore in skill and magic had tried to kill Harry as an infant, and died from the attempt.

That was always interesting, and more so now that Sunset was trying to figure out who or what could do magic not taught in the school.

Just how much more was there to Harry?

The most straightforward way to pursue that mystery was to familiarize oneself with Harry and establish his capabilities as a person, rather than as a wizard.

The problem was that something like that would take a lot of time, and Sunset didn’t consider herself very good at it. She also just didn’t know Harry very well.

Oh, he certainly carried himself normally enough, but Sunset had encountered unpredictable people as early as when she was at the orphanage. One particular matron stood out in that regard, presenting herself as a kind and patient mare, but who gleefully jumped on the foals with, probably pretended, indignant rage at the slightest missteps when it came to orderly conduct.

Years afterward, Sunset had still toyed with the idea of fabricating evidence of crimes that would have the matron sent to Tartarus.

Back at Hogwarts, Sunset sniffed the air, and ducked down a secret passageway to avoid Filch. He really was child’s play to avoid without his cat spying for him.

Sunset slowly sauntered through the halls of the castle, eyes closed and magical senses reaching out to feel the stones of the castle themselves.

After two probings of the third floor, Sunset had to pause, and grunt in frustration to herself.

That Hogwarts was magical was an understatement. The castle was saturated with more enchantments, lingering magic effects, and spilled potions than Diagon Alley.

In London, Sunset had run across a large chipboard attached to a brick wall in an out-of-the-way area of a park.

Not that it had been easy to discern that it was a chipboard, since it was covered in garishly colored shapes and letters from spray paint.

Graffiti, the Manehattaners called it. Sunset was considerate enough to take on a dismissive attitude towards the artform, since that was what made its practitioners happy.

The point was that between the layers upon layers of texts and illustrations, some very old creations could sometimes be gleaned, poking out from between phrases written as if made up by balloons or dissolving bubblegum or what have you, and that was what it felt like to Sunset as she scanned the castle for magic, again and again.

The first two times Sunset combed the fourth floor, she also didn’t find anything, and was almost ready to give up when something responded to her probing.

“Oh?” she said to herself, and turned to face a great mirror, large enough for three or four people her age to stand abreast in front of.

She stepped up and lightly tapped it, but it was stout and massive enough to not give away anything from sound. However, Sunset was sure the mirror held a secret.

She leaned forward, and almost pressed her nose against it as she inspected it, when she noticed that looking at it from a sharp enough angle revealed a handle in the reflection on the far side.

Curious, she reached out where the reflection showed that the handle would be, and felt the invisible object.

She pulled, and the entire mirror gently and quietly slid outward like a great door, with hardly any force required.

Sunset was distracted from congratulating herself, that she almost forgot what she was doing in the first place.

In front of her was a secret chamber. The actual Chamber of Secrets, mayhap?

She glanced around, wondering if perhaps she should warn a member of the faculty, before shaking her head. She wasn’t particularly interested in talking with anyone, and she doubted anyone was particularly interested in talking with her.

Drawing her wand, she stepped into the darkness, and closed the door behind her.

She was plunged into the blackest darkness, but she figured that could be a good thing. Any adversary in here would be just as blind unless they had the ability to see in complete darkness, and if cockatrices were on the loose, they would be outright feeble against someone of Sunset’s abilities if they knew to keep their eyes closed.

Sunset sniffed the air for a moment, sensing nothing but stone and dust. No hint of anything alive in here, no bedding, no filth, and no fear or excitement in the air. Nothing like mildew either.

She walked forward, sensing a wall of stone in front of her, and still nothing else.

If there were any monsters in this chamber, it was being very, very discrete.

She gently raised her wand, and shouted, “LUMOS!”

The tip of her wand seemed to explode as if the sun itself was held there. If anything in here relied on sight, and which wasn’t a unicorn with a penchant for fire magic and who had been the personal student of the princess of the sun, it wouldn’t have been able to open its eyes for several minutes.

Instead, Sunset found herself staring at an old stone chamber, empty save for a cave-in right in front of her.

“... Oh,” she muttered to herself, deflating a little.

While it was an interesting find, this would simply not be the secret lair of a legendary archmage.

Still, Sunset aimed her wand at the cave-in, and started guiding the stones back into the ceiling, repairing the damage.

Eventually, this revealed a set of circular stone stairs, leading down into the utter darkness.

Shrugging, Sunset cast the light from her wand onto the stairs, and started to descend.

“Hmm, this must be inside the western wall,” she noted to herself, as walked down and down.

“... And definitely leads underground,” she said, after descending more than four floors.

Eventually, she reached the bottom, which resulted in a stone tunnel on a level grade, just as dark and plain as before.

It wasn’t a scary type of darkness, it was a sterile type of darkness, and Sunset walked on through the plain stone tunnel.

Although she was naturally curious about this find, the novelty was wearing off quite rapidly, walking through the featureless dark.

Just as she started playing with the idea that the tunnel was playing some trick on her and she wasn’t making any progress, she reached a smoothened cliff wall. Apparently she had reached the end of the passage.

She put her hand on the wall, and as she expected, it slid outwards, just like the mirror had, and she found herself staring at the green mountains around Hogwarts, wet from the rain, with the castle in question in the distance, and the village of Hogsmeade down a couple of slopes.

The door was a part of a bare cliff wall, and gently slid shut behind her, leaving a small handle-like shape in the rock for those who knew where to look.

Sunset nodded to herself. “Okay. Slightly interesting find,” she said. It wasn’t that useful to know who knows teleportation, but it might still come in useful one day.

With a flash of light, she was gone, back at Hogwarts.

—

Sunset’s want to socialize with her classmates had never been very strong, and it had been even weaker since yesterday, so she remained unaware that her house was celebrating their victory in the quidditch match in the common room as she continued her inspection of the castle.

By the time the sun had started to set, she was outside, walking along the walls with her hand on the stones, when she spotted Malfoy trudging out through the doors, angrily kicking some pebbles and not noticing her.

Sunset could empathize, and she slipped around a corner so as to not bother him, and continued with her work there.

Draco, however, had decided to move towards where Sunset was, and she heard him carefully walking up behind her.

“Hello, Draco,” she said, not turning to look at him.

“How did you know it was me?” he said, sounding a little surprised.

“I know everything,” Sunset answered, ominously, before turning around and facing him with a slightly amused expression. “You’re also the only one in our year who wears cologne.”

“Oh,” Draco said, glancing down at his robes and surreptitiously giving them a whiff.

“So what’s eating you?” Sunset asked, while a part of her wondered if one was supposed to be comfortable with having to always be concerned about people if one decided to make friends.

“N… nothing,” Draco muttered.

“That’s good then,” Sunset said, conversationally.

Draco grunted, and muttered, “the match.”

“Didn’t go well?”

“You… didn’t see it?”

“Actually, no,” Sunset said, having turned back to the wall.

“Really?” Draco asked, and strangely enough Sunset thought he sounded a little hopeful.

“No. I was, uhm… busy.”

“With what?” Draco said, intrigued.

“Uh, more research,” Sunset said.

“Like what you’re doing now?”

“Yes- uh, I mean… yeah, I guess,” Sunset said, turned away from the wall and shrugged.

“What are you researching anyway?” Draco said, looking at the plain piece of wall that Sunset had been looking at.

“Just… trying to find the secrets of the castle,” Sunset said.

Draco gave Sunset a long, and strangely neutral look. “Right,” he eventually said, and nodded. “Finding anything?”

“Uh… something. Maybe. Secret passages and such.”

“Really? Where?”

“I said maybe,” Sunset pointed out, looking slightly apologetic. “They’re well-hidden.”

Draco nodded absent-mindedly, and just looked at Sunset while clearly lost in thoughts.

This went on for a few moments, before Sunset started to feel a little weirded out.

“... You okay?” she asked.

This brought Draco back to reality, and he nodded his head. “Uh yeah, uh… I’ll… leave you to it then,” he said, and started turning around.

“Oh, right. Goodbye then,” Sunset said, as Draco walked back towards the great hall, only casting a brief glance at Sunset.

Sunset shook her head and sighed, and realized that the past few weeks, she had started feeling more comfortable about her abilities to socialize like a normal person.

Now, she felt as though she should throw out all her gathered data and start over, or just give up.

—

The next morning, the rumor was very rapidly spreading that Colin Creevey, the first year with the camera, had been attacked during the night as well.

A sense of unease was spreading across the student body, and the teachers similarly were clearly trying to not seem as tense as they actually were.

“Professor McGonagall?” Sunset asked, during transfiguration. “Is Colin Creevey petrified just like Filch’s cat, so he’ll be cured?”

“Yes,” was McGonagall’s short answer, before moving on to the lesson.

It seemed to Sunset that if this kept going for much longer, her default manner of breathing would be slow heaves of rumination, and her default expression would be one of deep pondering.

Potions were, as always, the subject that took the most time to stay ahead of class in, and she was only now approaching the end of the third year’s concoctions. This was of course because she had to find quiet corners of the castle to practice in, and because brewing a potion was a project. However, she did find several ways of more efficiently using the ingredients, as well as other techniques of handling the potions, such as other sitting patterns and alternate temperatures of brewing, which she scribbled in the margins of her book.

Sunset had also saved all her potions and stored them away in her bag when practicing on her own time, and she now worked on sewing little pouches into her cloak, complete with cushioning enchantments to keep them from breaking and spilling, so that she always had a set of possibly useful concoctions ready.

The chances of actually being attacked by someone, or something, which could put you in a magical stasis, and possibly worse, was starting to seem more and more likely. Having a set of potions might not be useful if an attack happens, but it would probably not hurt.

It did prove to be useful when Sunset’s hand was splashed with Swelling Solution from Goyle’s cauldron exploding, and she had a Deflating Draught ready.

“You want some of this?” Sunset asked, holding the potion out to Neville sitting next to her.

“Uh, I think it missed me,” he said, patting himself down for symptoms.

When Snape fished out a piece of firework from Goyle’s cauldron and slowly swept across the classroom with his gaze, Sunset felt strangely impressed.

“Someone likes to live dangerously,” she noted to Neville, just before the bell rang.

Life at Hogwarts gradually changed, along with the weather, over the next week. People tried to not show it, but there was something in the air. The feeling of discomfort that Sunset had been absorbing was back, and stronger than before.

One of the changes that Sunset couldn’t help but be intrigued by was the same thing that every student found interesting, which was a planned dueling club.

Having students aged 10 to 18 engage in mock combat should be an interesting sight if nothing else.

—

I agree with your assessment about petrification. Have you seen examples of petrification from beasts we have in Equestria as well? Or have you read any accounts of them?

Yes, and cockatrices’ petrification are described exactly as the cat’s condition.

What a strange quirk. I can’t think of why that might be

The book was still for a moment, before it continued.

, and Twilight says she doesn’t know either. And you say that there’s a second victim now?

Be careful, Sunset.

I’ll try to be smart instead.

That will do.

Now, what upsets you?

Sunset opened her mouth slightly, before shutting it again.

I’m not upset.

I think you are, even if you don’t realize it.

In that case, I don’t know why.

If you ever want to talk about it, don’t be afraid to contact me.

Okay.

But now, the dueling class is about to start, so I’ll let you go back to Twilight.

Celestia’s next words came slowly, as if she wanted to rush to say something, but wasn’t sure what.

That is good of you to say. I’m happy.

Sunset almost felt happy just from that too, but mostly unsure.

Good, I think. Why?

The book was still for another moment, before the words came again, steadily.

Nothing. Never mind.

I love you, Sunset.

Now go and see what you can learn about combat with wands.

Now it was Sunset’s turn to be still for a moment, before responding as well.

Right.

Love you too.

Sunset closed the book, and sat in her bed in silence for several moments, before rising up and walking down to the Gryffindor common room.

She paused at the precipice of the Fat Lady’s portrait, and leaned against the wall, deep in thought about Celestia’s words.

A cat and a student lay in the hospital wing, petrified, as it was called in this world. It wasn’t a good time to saunter through the hallways absent-mindedly.

After several minutes though, she managed to clear her head, and made her way towards the Great Hall.

Sunset would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about a wizarding dueling club. She hadn’t yet seen actual human wizarding combat. The only spells used offensively she had seen were jinxes and hexes, subcategories of charms, used by students to annoy each other, making each other slip, covering others with feathers, and things of that nature.

The tables in the hall had been removed, and instead there was a great scene at the far end. Almost the entire student body was facing the scene or milling around to try and find a good spot.

Sunset leaned against the wall next to Fred, George, and Ginny.

“Ginny, Stooge One, Stooge Two,” Sunset said in recognition.

Fred and George opened their mouths, and looked at each other, before shrugging.

“Good one. We got nothing,” Fred said.

“Has anything interesting happened yet?” Sunset asked.

“No. Filch was sweeping the scene just now, but no one else has showed up,” Ginny said.

When Gilderoy Lockhart and Severus Snape walked out on the stage, Ginny’s expression changed to one of concerned disbelief, while Sunset, Fred, and George rolled their eyes and chuckled.

“This ought to be good,” George said.

“Gather round, gather round! Can everyone hear me? Can you all see me? Excellent!” he said, swishing his robe.

Sunset was disappointed. The key to making your robe swish right is to make it swish without making it seem like you’re making it swish.

Lockhart continued. “Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club…”

“I would’ve loved to see Dumbledore’s expression when he did,” Fred said, under his breath.

“... to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions- for full details, see my published works.

“Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,” he said, holding out a plum-clad arm in the sour-looking Snape’s direction, smiling. Sunset could see herself smiling in Lockhart’s place, but she couldn’t see how Lockhart himself could do so. “He tells me he knows a tiny bit about dueling himself, and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry. You’ll still have your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!”

Sunset glanced at Fred and George, and could only guess from the stunned smiles on their faces at what was going through their minds.

Things proceeded as if it was a duel of honor from there, with Snape and Lockhart bowing, sort of in Snape’s case, towards each other, before calmly aiming their wands at each other.

“As you can see…” Lockhart said, and very foolishly if this had been actual combat, turned his head away from Snape to address the crowd. “... we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.”

“Do it, do it, do it,” Fred and George chanted under their breaths, while Ginny silently giggled at them.

“One… two… three…”

Even though Lockhart was the one doing the counting, he had barely started to move when Snape had finished shouting, “Expelliarmus!”

A flash of red light shot from Snape’s wand, and made Lockhart’s wand fly out of his hand, while also knocking him back so hard he flew into the wall behind him, sliding down to the floor.

Fred and George clapped, along with several others.

“It feels wrong, since it’s Snape, but…” George said, and shrugged.

Somehow, Lockhart was smiling when he walked back up on the stage, trying not to show how gingerly he walked.

“Well, there you have it! That was a Disarming Charm- as you can see, I’ve lost my wand. Ah, thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…”

Sunset was almost as amused glancing at Fred and George as they struggled for words. Their favorite pastime was making fun of people who took themselves seriously, but this was beyond their capabilities.

“Enough demonstrating! I’m going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you’d like to help me…”

Snape had gone off to one end of the hall, while Lockhart was taking the one that Sunset was in.

Fred and George glanced at each other, and then Sunset, before starting to shuffle away from her.

“Ah, Mister and Mister Weasley,” Lockhart said, approvingly. “A mirror match it is then. Interesting. And Miss Shimmer. Let’s see if we can find someone in your own year…”

At Lockhart’s words, people silently started scurrying away like when you lift a stone and uncover a whole society of creepy crawlies who are afraid of the light.

The one who hadn’t been very fast on the uptake was a Slytherin student who was left standing with a metaphorical spotlight on him.

“Ah, Mister Zabini! You and Miss Shimmer will pair up!”

Sunset casually walked over to Blaise, who stared at her with wide eyes.

“Hello,” she said, and after a moment, he managed to nod at her in return.

Blaise kept nervously glancing over his shoulder, towards Malfoy who was giving him a warning look, until he was called over by Snape who wanted to pair him up with Harry.

“Wands at the ready!” Lockhart shouted. “When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent- only disarm them, we don’t want any accidents.”

A nervous looking Blaise Zabini carefully raised his wand, while Sunset didn’t bother, and just held her wand casually at her side.

Lockhart started counting. “One, two, three.”

It was Armageddon, localized to the dining hall in an old castle somewhere in Scotland.

Hundreds of young witches and wizards, cramped together, were trying to perform hundreds of duels, most of them with poor conduct.

Several students had indeed tried to disarm their opponent, but they quickly joined the one who hadn’t bothered in trying other spells to try and cause some sort of effect.

Friends were knocking each other over, and enemies were flailing at each other and trying to make magic happen the way they wanted, and everything in between.

Throughout it all, Blaise Zabini and Sunset just stood there. Sunset waiting, and Zabini frozen.

“I said disarm only!” Lockhart shouted.

Sunset’s demeanor was keeping Zabini so off guard she had to make sure she wasn’t exuding some sort of threatening aura of pure magic power, which she wasn’t.

“... Well?” she said, loud enough to be overheard from all the other fighting.

Zabini took a deep, rushed breath, and raised his wand.

By now, not the entire hall, but several nearby combatants, had given up trying to properly duel, and waited for a sort of reset from the professors. They now turned to watch Blaise and Sunset.

"E-expelliarmus!" Zabini shouted, and swung his wand.

Sunset was ready for it, and every other spell that second year students knew, and casually swished her wand in a small motion in front of her.

A golden aura could be seen for just a moment in front of Sunset, as Zabini’s red stream of magic impacted into it, taking a fraction of a second to grow brighter.

All sound vanished from the great hall for barely a moment as an ethereal shockwave accompanied the relaunching of the magic projective, which flew back at Zabini, much faster than it had come towards Sunset.

Sunset’s eyes grew wide when she realized what was happening. She had been sure she wouldn’t overdo it, but she also hadn’t had the chance to properly practice with wizarding magic.

The magic hit a shocked Zabini, and launched him clear across the room, towards the door leading out to the central junction of the castle.

Several people were knocked off their feet from the shockwave, and the stage on the other side of the room lifted from the floor for a moment.

Sunset shot out her hand, magically opening the doors to give Zabini more room to zoom across, and lifted a tapestry next to the door to catch him with.

When Zabini was out of danger, Sunset made sure to use her wand, as she floated him back into the room, and placed him, knees shaking, in front of herself.

She tried to assume a casual demeanor as she searched for words. “... That looked like a disarming charm. Well done,” she offered.

Snape and Lockhart were looking over their shoulder, utterly still, and trying to figure out what had happened.

They had apparently missed the most bombastic parts of the spectacle, which Sunset was thankful for, but Sunset still wished she would have done the whole thing differently.

After a moment, Lockhart finished to feebly tend to the lightly injured students, before looking around.

“I think I’d better teach you how to block unfriendly spells,” he said, and scanned the room. “Let’s have a volunteer pair. Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?”

Now Snape spoke up. “A bad idea, Professor Lockhart Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox.”

Neville looked down at his feet, and Sunset thought that Snape was lucky she felt that she had enough attention for one day, since this would be a prime opportunity to cast a tarring and feathering spell while making it look like it came from someone else.

“How about Potter and Malfoy?” Snape continued, smiling.

“Excellent idea!” Lockhart said, and gestured them over, as the students made way for them in the middle of the hall.

Snape whispered something to Malfoy, which made him grin excitedly.

Similarly, Lockhart leaned down and whispered instructions to Harry, and dropped his wand during them.

Sunset was getting exhausted just looking at him.

Lockhart backed away, with a big, expectant smile on his face.

“Three, two, one!” he shouted.

Malfoy had started early, and when Lockhart was finished, Malfoy shouted, “Serpensortia!”

Harry took half a step backward with an unsure scowl on his face, as a great snake shot out of Draco’s wand, and landed on the floor, already raised and ready to strike.

The crowd stumbled over itself in an effort to move away from the snake.

“Don’t move, Potter. I’ll get rid of it,” Snape said, in a smug voice.

But before he could do anything, Lockhart stepped up. “Allow me!” he shouted, with a pleased look on his face, and waved his wand at the snake.

It shot up several feet above the heads of the crowd, before landing a little bit aways, once again raised up, and facing Justin Finch-Fletchley, clearly very annoyed, and eager to work out some aggressions.

Sunset raised her hand to cast a shield around Justin, when she realized that there had been a steadily growing, almost otherworldly hissing sound reverberating through the hall.

Everyone else seemed to notice as well, and managed to turn their gazes away from the snake, and noticed that Harry was standing with his hand out, pointing at the snake, and spitting the odd sound out with a strangely commanding tone.

The snake was ready to strike, when Harry let out a short, stern-sounding hiss. It stared at Justin a second longer, and then calmly lay down on the floor, looking patiently at Harry.

The crowd had been absolutely silent, and Sunset shared the sentiment, as she tried to absorb every detail of the episode, when Justin broke the spell.

“What do you think you’re playing at!?” he shouted, then turned and ran out of the hall.

Snape stepped up to the snake and waved his wand, making it vanish with a puff of smoke, before he turned to silently look at Harry, his face utterly impassive.

All around the hall, people started to mutter and whisper, glancing at each other when not staring at Harry. Some of them took a few steps back to put some more distance between themselves and him.

Harry’s gaze was mostly kept by Snape, until he noticed the mumbling around him.

Ron and Hermione quickly walked up to him with long strides, and whispered in his ear, before dragging him out of there.

Every eye in the hall followed them as they turned in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

Sunset did as well, deep in thoughts, before the crowd finally started to move, shuffling out of there while talking amongst themselves.

“Parselmouth,” was the word Sunset heard whispered over and over.

All the attention Sunset had attracted during her own duel was seemingly gone now, which she was grateful for, but what had drawn it away left a very ominous feeling in the air.

Author's Notes:

This was a hard chapter to get through. A long line of things like obligations, low motivation, and illnesses made the writing start and stop many times. In addition, there was not a lot of room for additional characters to do much during the events of the source material, with scenes that needed to play out.

I might be unavailable during much of next week, so if I don't respond, don't feel ignored.

Cred to Snuffy and ssokolow for feedback

Red On Silver

“People are asking me about you,” Neville said to Sunset in a low voice at lunch.

“Oh yeah?” Sunset said, almost scoffing. “Who?”

“Some older students. Some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs too. I didn’t tell them anything.”

"Good. Thanks. Be especially careful with the Hufflepuffs. You never know what they’re up to.”

Neville levelled a confused look at Sunset, before shifting it towards the Hufflepuff table.

“Although most people are talking about Harry,” Neville said, quietly enough so only Sunset could hear him.

“Yeah, let’s get people to focus on him instead.”

“Hmm,” Neville muttered, unsure. “I don’t think he likes it either.”

Sunset glanced a few seats down the table, where Harry was flanked protectively by Ron and Hermione. With an annoyed and weary frown, they silenced a group of first year Ravenclaws who had been whispering amongst themselves and pointing at Harry.

“I guess so,” Sunset said. “So being able to speak snake is a bad sign then?”

Neville nodded, both of them being careful not to glance at Harry. “Yeah, supposedly only dark wizards can do it.”

“And he didn’t learn it here, because people would’ve noticed if he sat around with a snake dictionary, and he’s not allowed to study magic where he lives, which means he was born with it?” Sunset asked, to which Neville nodded. “And there are innate abilities which mark you as evil then?”

“Uhm…” Neville said, sounding a little uncomfortable. “Yeah… people see it as that.”

Sunset looked at him. “Do you?”

“Uh… well… no, I guess. I mean, maybe if it was someone in Slytherin, but… it’s Harry.”

“And the rumours that he’s the one petrifying people?”

“Well… we kinda suspect the monster that Professor Binns was talking about, right? Sounds more likely than Harry doing it, don’t you think?”

“All I know is that I’m not the one petrifying people, but as for what I think…”

Sunset stared straight ahead with a pondering scowl as she chewed her food.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had slipped away one night late last semester and gotten up some pretty adventurous stuff, right under Sunset’s nose. The information on the whole thing was really sparse, but the most consistent rumours were regarding a dark wizard searching for something in the castle.

Harry might indeed have powerful, innate capabilities, which would mesh with the historical fact that the dread Lord Voldemort had become the dead Lord Voldemort (a name which Sunset had found particularly hard to suss out) when he tried to kill Harry.

There was also the possibility that whatever the dark wizard last semester had been looking for had found its way into Harry’s possession, be it a thing or a piece of knowledge, possibly a weapon or somesuch.

After those considerations came the question of motive. Why would Harry walk around and petrify cats and students? Did he perhaps not mean to? Did he unleash dangerous magics around him at random, not being in control of his actions?

Or was it not Harry at all?

“... I really have no idea.”

“Mm,” Neville nodded, sounding sombre.

“By the way, bummed out that the herbology lesson was cancelled?” Sunset asked, glancing up at the enchanted ceiling, which showed the blizzard outside.

“Uh, yeah. A little,” Neville admitted.

Sunset shrugged. “Maybe you could ask Professor Sprout if she wants help with the mandrakes.”

Neville looked sceptical as he searched for words. “Ehm… No.”

“Why not? You get on with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but… still no, for the same reason you don’t ask if you can help Professor Flitwick.”

“Touché,” Sunset said, and felt her respect-metre for Neville move ever so slightly, and chewed her food as she considered the last few days’ development.

“... I wonder if being able to talk to snakes includes being able to talk to anguidae,” she said.

“What’s an anguidae?” Neville asked.

“A legless lizard.”

Neville’s eyes shifted around for a moment. “... Wouldn’t that just be a snake?”

“No actually, the same way ferns are not shrubs.”

Neville gave Sunset a long look. “Lavender is right, sometimes you really do seem like a muggleborn. Or just like a muggle.”

“What do you mean?” Sunset asked, curiously. “Do you know what muggles talk about?”

“Uhm… kinda. Professor Marchbanks is friends with my gran and comes over for tea sometimes, and she’s an examiner in the evaluation authority, including Muggle Studies. So she has read tons on muggle topics.”

“Ah. Well, what I wanted to get to is that if Harry can talk to legless lizards that look a lot like snakes, he should be able to speak to all reptiles… A lizard-wizard.”

Neville hanged his head in exhaustion, but Sunset just looked pleased with herself.

After her meal, Sunset took to listlessly wandering the corridors, pondering on the rumours that were building around herself.

On one hoof... hand, she had intended to keep a low profile. On the other hand, gaining some attention might have been bound to happen, and if it were, mysterious might have been one of the better things to be perceived as.

Or… Sunset at least hoped she was perceived as mysterious. The private kind, where people learn that there’s no point in prying.

Speaking of mysteries, there was the whole thing with Harry, and the petrifications, as well. Sunset frowned, and not for the first time, as she considered the whole affair. She had been classmates with Harry for over a year, and she still really had no idea if he could be behind it, no idea what to make of him at all really.

She wondered if that was a shortcoming of hers, and how much she should care if it was.

With ominous timing, she heard Peeves the poltergeist cry out from one floor down, “ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!”

Sunset turned on the spot and sprinted towards the stairs, her wand drawn, clearing them with one big leap and rounding a corner and aiming her wand straight forward, just as Professor McGonagall rushed out through a door, barely missing Sunset, and followed by her students spilling out right behind her.

“Sunset! Miss Shimmer!” McGonagall yelled, trying to sound stern.

“Yes, professor?” a focused Sunset said, not looking at her, but straight ahead as she rounded another corner with McGonagall right behind her, drawing her own wand.

“Miss Shimmer, you will stay behi–” McGonagall was interrupted by the sight of Nearly Headless Nick, petrified and turned so dark so as to almost no longer be transparent, and Justin, whom Sunset remembered from the Duelling Club, lying on the floor, also petrified, with Harry Potter standing as if ready to fight or flee in the middle of the corridor.

Sunset only had about a second to appraise the scene, before not only McGonagall’s class, but many more students, rounded the corners.

They quickly rushed forward to get a better look at the two petrified individuals, filling the hallway with alarmed chatter and blocking Sunset from examining them up close. Instead she just put her wand away with a slightly frustrated frown.

Before the student body had a chance to stampede, McGonagall let out a loud bang with her wand, which silenced everyone, until a moment later when another Hufflepuff student pointed at Harry with a shaking finger.

“Caught in the act!”

“That will do, Macmillan!” McGonagall said, and ploughed a way through the crowd with her presence as she walked up to Nick and Justin, and made a quick inspection of them.

Professor Flitwick made his way through the crowd from the opposite direction, not having the physical presence to make the students move out of the way ahead of him, and shortly thereafter being joined by Professor Sinistra.

“Minerva?” Flitwick asked, with a sad but grim tone.

McGonagall simply nodded, and they had a quiet conversation, before she drew herself up to her full height.

“All students, classes are cancelled for the rest of the day,” she said. “Return to your dormitories, in groups of three or more. Macmillan, you will assist Professor Sinistra in moving Sir Nicholas to the medical wing.”

The crowd lingered for one more moment, before they started moving away, just as Flitwick started levitating Justin after Ernie and Professor Sinistra.

Sunset made sure she was among the last to leave, trying to get more good looks at the petrified student, and ghost, but learned nothing she didn’t already know, and left Harry and McGonagall standing alone in the corridor.

The terrified scent coming off from Harry left Sunset with an uneasy feeling in her guts. It took a moment before she realised that she wanted to help, with the problem being that she had no idea how.

—

Harry had come back to the common room shortly afterward, and had immediately been flanked by Ron and Hermione, who had sat him down between themselves on a sofa and focused on studying astronomy with him, all three of them looking very busy and not in the mood for questions.

The whole affair with the latest petrification had led to even more people signing up for spending the holidays away from Hogwarts during the holidays.

“Are you staying, Sunset?” Lavender asked, as she packed her suitcase.

“Hm?” Sunset asked, looking at Lavender while lying on her bed, fully clothed.

“Are you staying? You’re not packing.”

“Oh… I don’t know. I guess. Not sure where else t–” she said, before catching herself and shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Lavender looked at Sunset with a worried expression.

“... I… could ask my parents if you could stay with us.”

The hesitancy in Lavender’s voice hinted to Sunset that it might not have been as simple as that, which made her appreciate the gesture a little bit more.

“It’s okay,” Sunset said, giving Lavender an apologetic smile. “But thanks anyway.”

Parvati spoke up instead. “Maybe Neville coul– ah!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Lavender, who had just thrown a pair of folded socks at Parvati. “I slipped. Can I have those back?”

It was another one of those mysterious, unspoken conversations that Sunset had never gotten the hang off. A lot of mares and fillies back in Canterlot worked the same way.

Whatever they spoke about, Sunset wouldn’t have to care about it tomorrow, and until classes started again.

Putting her book down, Sunset turned over in her bed and did her best to shut the world out, and didn’t realise that she did almost nothing the rest of the day, until she heard Hermione come back into the dorm, and quietly slip into bed.

—

The next morning, Sunset woke up to find that she was alone in the dorm, Hermione having already slipped out.

For some reason, Sunset liked that, but she couldn’t tell exactly why. It wasn’t as if she disliked Hermione. In fact, she often appreciated how Hermione openly tried to attract the teachers’ attention.

Even so, the stillness was rather pleasant, and Sunset rubbed her thumb and index finger together, magically re-igniting the charred logs in the fireplace, and just lying on her side and staring into the fire through an opening in the curtains of her poster bed for a long while.

Eventually, she slipped out of bed and into a cheap pair of slippers she had bought in London, enchanted to be softer and warmer than mundane ones.

She waved her finger again, heating up her nightgown, and staring out the window across the snow-covered castle grounds, listening to the wind whistling outside and enjoying the comforting solitude for a bit longer, before making her way down the stairs.

“Morning, Sunset!” Fred, or possibly George, called from the couch in front of the bigger fireplace in the common room, waving her over.

Sunset shrugged to herself, figuring that at least there was another fireplace here to enjoy, and went over to sit down next to Ginny, who had wrapped herself up in a blanket and drinking hot cocoa with whipped cream in it with her brothers.

“Happy Christmas, Sunset,” Ginny said, looking a little tired.

“Happy Christmas,” Sunset said, sitting down. “Bad night?”

“Eh… I guess so. I’m not sure.”

“That’s what the cocoa is for,” George said, and brought his wand and incanted a spell to warm up a fourth mug that stood on the table before handing it to Sunset. “This was for Percy, but I guess he’s out doing important things.”

“Probably polishing his prefect badge,” Fred added, as Sunset accepted the mug.

“Here we are, trying to be nice, and he doesn’t show up,” George said, and shook his head.

That made Sunset stop herself before taking a zip, and look at the cup.

“... So… there’s no laxative or anything in this, then?”

“No, but that is a wonderful idea. Thank you,” Fred said, sounding solemn and dignified.

“No presents?” Ginny asked Sunset.

“Oh, uh… no, sorry, I forgot,” Sunset said, looking a little sheepish.

“I meant for you,” Ginny clarified, giving Sunset an apologetic smile.

“Oh, uh… no,” Sunset said, and noticed the charred remains of gift wrappings in the corner of the fireplace.

The Weasley siblings were quiet for a moment, as Sunset sipped her cocoa, which she realised had liberal helpings of sugar in it.

“We could ask mum to make you a sweater,” Fred eventually offered, cautiously.

Sunset looked at the burgundy wool affair on the twins, and smiled a little ruefully.

“They do look cozy,” she offered, as tactfully as she could.

“By the way, what’s Ron’s problem?” Fred asked.

“Ron has a problem?” Sunset said.

“Yeah, with you.”

“Uuh… oh. I don’t know,” Sunset said, shrugging. “I guess he took a dim view of something I said, and now he thinks I dislike muggleborns.”

“Do you?” Ginny asked, a little cautiously.

“Nope,” Sunset simply said.

“Oh, so you’re not ordering around the monster either?” George said, smirking.

“No, that would be news to me,” Sunset said.

Ginny withdrew a little into her blanket and sipped her cocoa, giving off an uncomfortable scent that Sunset picked up on.

Sunset couldn’t blame her. There was something irking her as well. She was wrapped in a soft blanket, sipping cocoa in front of a fire, in a tower, with falling snow and low temperatures outside. All should’ve been well in the world, and yet, for some reason, it wasn’t.

“By the way, where are Harry… and Ron and Hermione?” Ginny asked.

“Don’t know. Still in bed?” Fred suggested.

“Hermione was gone when I woke up,” Sunset noted.

“Oh… don’t know then. Not worried that the monster has attacked them, are you?” Fred asked Ginny.

“No,” Ginny simply said, and looked surprised at herself, but no one said anything, so she just continued to stare into the fire.

It was a shame to waste such a nice moment, but something kept irking Sunset, so she thanked the twins, walked up to the dorm and changed into her uniform, taking care to magically heat it up, and checked her book.

Happy Hearth’s Warming, Sunset.

Sunset sat down on her bed, and brought out her pen.

Happy Hearth’s Warming, Princess.

Celestia obviously had her own book ready, because she answered promptly, making Sunset feel even worse to a small degree, as she didn’t feel herself appreciating Celestia being there for her.

How are you, my dear student?

I don’t know. Not very good. I’m not sick or in pain, and as far as I can tell I don’t have any reason to not feel good, but I just don’t.

We all feel that way sometimes, Sunset. Are you feeling shut in, perhaps? Do you need a break from your routine?

Sunset pondered this for a moment.

Maybe. Why do you ask that?

It’s just a hunch. Or maybe I’m speaking from my own experience. It might be worth considering.

Maybe it will. Thank you.

You’re welcome.

Celestia tactfully encouraged Sunset to go about her day, and Sunset figured that Celestia could tell how much Sunset was struggling with idle chit-chat.

She walked out into the corridors of the castle, slipping by the great hall to collect a slice of bread to eat as she sauntered through the halls.

Where did her feeling of discontent come from, she wondered.

One obvious nominee was the attacks that the students had suffered.

Sunset wondered, and not for the first time, how many more incidents would be acceptable before the authorities, this Ministry of Magic she had yet to have any direct dealings with, stepped in.

If their approach were to call in law enforcement or a military force, or whatever was the equivalent among wizards, Sunset would just have to redouble her efforts to not attract attention, which she didn't relish the idea off.

On the other hand, if the school were to be shut down, well… Sunset figured that she could still just make her way in this world, and learn its magic from books instead. However, before she figured that, she felt a fairly strong sense of dislike. She didn't like the idea of the school shutting down.

That trail of thought looped back to the question of why she felt so listless.

What she wanted, really wanted, of course, was to be back in Equestria as an alicorn. But that wasn’t happening yet. She still didn’t know how one becomes an alicorn. And that, she realised, was really taking its toll.

She had seen herself as an alicorn in Celestia’s mirror. She wanted to be an alicorn, and she wanted to be one now. Or rather, she wanted to be done with it.

She wanted…

“Hello, Sunset.”

Sunset jumped, having failed to notice Draco’s cologne, and looked up from the stone tiles to see a smirking Draco Malfoy walking up to her.

“Hello, Draco,” she said, mildly surprised at how steady and normal her voice was. “What’s up?”

Draco’s smile washed away from realising something. “Oh, yeah. Have you seen Crabbe or Goyle?”

Sunset shook her head. “No. Why?”

“They were acting odd. We were just talking, when suddenly they looked at each other and rushed out of the common room.”

“Oh. No, I haven't seen them. Maybe they needed to go to the bathroom?”

Draco nodded, letting out a small sigh. “They probably did,” he said, and rallied. “Anyway, how are you?”

Sunset shrugged. “Not sure. A little down, maybe.”

“Why?” Draco asked, cocking his head slightly.

“I don’t know, I’m trying to figure it out,” she said, and explored her previous trail of thought a little. “I’m just not making a lot of progress.”

“On what?” Draco asked.

“Erm… studying, I guess.”

He gave her an amused smile. “It’s the holidays, you know.”

Sunset opened her mouth, and if she hadn’t felt so listless, she might also have felt like she deserved a slap over the head. “Yeah… I guess it is,” she said, and scoffed at herself in wry amusement. “Maybe I should’ve left too.”

A part of her wondered if Celestia had been shaking her head while she read Sunset’s complaints.

“To do what?” Draco asked.

“I don’t know. Go somewhere or do something else for a change?”

Draco shrugged questioningly. “What’s stopping you?”

Shrugging in turn, Sunset said, “I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”

Draco folded his arms and looked pleased with himself. “I could help you out.”

She looked at him questioningly. “How?”

“I have floo powder with me.”

Giving that some thought, Sunset slowly nodded. “... Ah… Would we get into trouble for leaving? I didn’t sign up on the list of students who would be absent.”

Draco smirked confidently. “My father is on the board of governors.”

Sunset was about to ask him if by that he was implying that no, they would not get into trouble, but realised that the answer was obvious.

She turned her head to look out a window, considering the offer.

Maybe Celestia was right, Sunset thought. Maybe she did need a break from routine. To just shelve everything she would normally ruminate on, go away, for even just half a day, and not worry about it at all for a short time.

Eventually, she just shrugged.

“Yeah… sure. What did you have in mind?”

Draco’s smirk halfway morphed into a more normal smile. “We could go to Diagon Alley.”

Sunset looked outside into the gently falling snow, which reminded her of that snowy day when Filch had caught her coming back from the forest, almost exactly a year ago now.

She wondered if it was wise to break rules once again, and immediately reminded herself that she was Sunset Shimmer. She can avoid trouble, and when she doesn’t avoid it, she gets herself out of it.

Besides, if Draco’s father sat on the board…

“... Sure,” Sunset said. “Where’s a good fireplace?”

Draco’s eyes lit up, and he immediately started talking very quickly. “We shouldn’t do it in a common room. There’s a storage room on the third floor with a fireplace in it.”

“Oh yeah,” Sunset said, having remembered seeing that at some point.

“You go there, I’ll be back really quickly with some floo powder!” Draco said, turned around, and ran down the hallway.

Sunset gently sauntered back to Gryffindor tower, collected her bag, and shoved her muggle-appropriate jacket into it, before making her way to the third floor.

She was getting pretty good at avoiding people when the school was operating normally. Now though, she didn’t see a soul. Not even a ghost floated past, and Sunset figured that they might be having another party, just like Nick had thrown together, only this time for the holiday.

Pushing open the door, Sunset stepped into the room, which was filled with old chairs, desks, cabinets, and other things of that kind, stacked along the walls and in the centre.

Luckily, the fireplace was not blocked, meaning there would be no trace of people in the thick dust of the room. Sunset had put a spell on her boots to keep them from leaving tracks, just in case, and hoped that Draco had thought of the same.

It turned out that he did not, as Sunset learned less than a minute later, when a slightly panting Draco stepped into the room with a green velvet bag in his hand.

“I, hah, left a note for Crabbe and, hah, Goyle. If anyone asks, they’re gonna say that we’re still in the castle somewhere.”

Sunset nodded. “Good thinking.”

“Shall we?” Draco said, and held out his arm invitingly to Sunset, and handed her a pinch of the magical ash.

She stepped into the fireplace, and said, “The Leaky Cauldron,” as she dropped the ashes.

After a short moment of magical travel, Sunset stepped out of the fireplace at The Leaky Cauldron, and could’ve sworn she felt a faint, extrasensory chant about green flames.

As she was taking in the sight, Draco stepped out behind her.

The Leaky Cauldron was as it usually was. Dark, dingy, but in a very cozy way, lit by candles and oil lamps, and of course fireplaces, where dark, hooded figures huddle around and gossip about… whatever it is dark, hooded figures gossip about.

Tom the innkeeper surreptitiously scurried up to them, cleaning a dirty mug with a rag as he did.

“Why, Miss Shimma, ‘n young masta’ Malfoy,” he said. “Passing through, or can I get ye sumthin?”

Sunset was about to answer, when she noticed Draco holding out his hand invitingly.

“I’ll let you decide,” he said.

Sunset shrugged. “Sure. Do you have some sort of pie ready, Tom?”

“Aye, blueberry.”

“A blueberry pie then, thank you.”

They took a seat in a far corner, while the hard, hooded figures followed them with their gazes in a slightly sinister manner. Sunset didn’t care though, as those garments were obviously made for looking sinister in corners of dark taverns, made for showing off. Besides, her nose told her that several of them were enjoying a blueberry pie of their own, and if there’s anything that Sunset was less afraid of than fashion victims, it was fashion victims eating blueberry pies.

Sunset Shimmer was good at many things, but initiating smalltalk was not something she had that much experience in, and so she simply made herself comfortable on the wooden bench.

Draco, on the other hand, kept smirking and glancing at her.

“So… how has the year been treating you, Sunset?”

Sunset’s brow creased as she pondered this.

She liked learning human style magic, with wands, and she had to admit that there were some nice people at Hogwarts. Neville was not such an intruding presence, Flitwick was a bit more inquisitive, though still very supportive, and Sunset had to admit that Fred and George could be quite entertaining, as could Parvati and Lavender, if perhaps not as intentionally.

So far however, this second year, there had been a sour taste mixed in. She was frustrated with her lack of progress on her grand quest lately. Not to mention, the scent of terror from the students had been permeating the castle endlessly for months now, and was definitely affecting her as well.

Also, students had been attacked. That was bad too.

Sunset had never been one for marking territory, but she was all for giving anything muscling in on her castle a piece of her mind, which was quite the event when given by a unicorn archmage.

“Eh… so-so,” she said. “How about you?”

Tom arrived, and quietly presented them with two plates with half a pie on each.

Sunset started eating immediately, preferring that to talking.

“Quite good. It’s been an exciting year, don’t you think?” Draco said, taking a piece of pie into his own mouth.

“I guess.”

After a moment, Draco noted, “you don’t seem entirely pleased about something.”

“Yeah,” Sunset muttered. “... I haven’t made the progress in my… research that I was hoping for.”

Sunset glanced up from her meal and saw that Draco was smirking while looking at her.

She wasn’t a fine-tuned social sensor, able to discern minute detail in tone and faces, nor did she care to- That was Cadence’s field, but she felt like that smirk wasn’t a demeaning or malevolent one.

They ate in silence for a moment, before a still smiling Draco spoke.

“I hope you make some progress. Maybe I can help?”

Sunset looked up, mildly surprised with herself. She hadn’t even considered whether or not a wizard could help her.

She didn’t think one could, but there was also nothing written about alicorns. In Equestria, the books that dealt with alicorns were second hoof, third hoof, and even fourth hoof accounts on Princess Celestia, with the occasional, fussy passage or reference to other alicorns, or perhaps even just one single other alicorn long, long ago.

Sunset had reminded herself many, many times of what she had seen, in two separate magic mirrors, and what Celestia had said to her, because she really was in uncharted territory with her grand mission.

The sheer amount of theories, hypotheses, and mere hunches on the subject she had considered was staggering to herself when she thought back on it, but while their books had not yielded any fruit, looking into what human wizards- other human wizards, could do, for her, wasn’t something she had considered.

If she did look into it though, perhaps Draco wouldn’t be the best choice of wizard.

“Maybe,” she offered, tactfully, and just as she was about to take another bite, a slight chime was heard from her bag.

“What’s that?” Draco asked, stretching to look at the bag laying beside Sunset on her wooden bench.

Sunset gave her bag a look, thinking to herself, and realised why she had been feeling so down lately.

She hadn’t spoken to anyone about herself for the better part of two years. Always having her guard up, always watching her words, always keeping her head down.

Now, she was tired.

She knew she should've made some excuse. She knew it was folly to let someone see so much, but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She sighed, and brought Celestia’s book out.

Draco looked at the glowing book with interest, which only deepened when he saw the words forming themselves on the page.

Hello again, Sunset.

Yes, I’m writing again. I don't know when you will read this, but I hope you are feeling better.

Before Celestia could continue, Sunset set her pen to the page.

Hello, Celestia.

I’m reading it right now. And I’ve made an attempt to feel better, but we’ll see how it goes. Thanks for checking in on me.

I’m glad to hear that. Let me guess: You are not alone.

Sunset’s mouth fell open slightly, as she stared at the page. She could practically feel Celestia’s smirk through the pages

“What is that?” Draco asked. “Is it writing itself? Those aren’t letters.”

“They are, just different ones,” Sunset said, happy to have more confirmation that people here couldn’t read Modern Equestrian, as she thought about what to write.

I know where you keep your stash of cookies.

Sunset immediately shut the book, and put it back into her bag as she stood up. “Shall we?”

Draco dropped the subject of the book that apparently writes itself, and stood up as well.

As they walked over to the counter, Sunset brought out a silver sickle out of her bag, but Draco stepped up first, and with strangely sweeping motions, brought out two of his own while standing on the platform in front of the bar, which made him seem taller.

He smiled confidently at Sunset, and gestured invitingly to the back door.

Fighting back an amused smile, Sunset walked out to the entrance to Diagon Alley, Draco following behind her, until he stepped up to the brick wall and opened it with his wand, to once again invite her to step in first.

Both The Leaky Cauldron’s backlot, and Diagon Alley, were covered in snow, grey, slushy, and thoroughly stirred on the ground, and mostly white and undisturbed on other surfaces.

Cloak- and fur clad Wizards and witches were milling around, alone or in groups, in much higher spirits than at Hogwarts, talking about their plans for the evening, or just the gossip of the day.

Draco started walking with long, confident steps through the alley, swishing his cloak around him and mostly masking the oddly excited scent he was giving off.

“So, where would you like to go first?” he asked.

Sunset slowed down as she considered this. There was only one thing she knew she wanted, and that was not something that was available for purchase.

Of lesser importance were more potion supplies, but going by the recipes from her books, she was at the end of what she could do with affordable reagents.

“Not sure. Maybe I’m just happy to get out for a bit.”

“Do you want to look at quidditch supplies?”

Sunset was fine with that, and opened her mouth to ask if Draco wanted to look at quidditch supplies, and foresaw a line of questions where Draco responded that he’d do what she wanted, and an awkward back-and-forth about who is willing to do what for whom.

That reminded Sunset of Cadence, and she simply shrugged and nodded while fighting back the urge to gag.

They entered the quidditch store, which like all wizarding interiors Sunset had seen except for Hogwarts, was candle-lit and covered in wood-panelling, which Sunset found to be an amusing contrast with muggle sports stores.

It turns out that, unlike what Sunset had worried slightly about, Draco did not seem to want to draw a bunch of attention to themselves. Sunset had noticed many patterns when it came to rich people, but she had never quite managed to decode their minds.

“What’s your favourite team?” Draco asked, as he lazily sifted through quidditch gloves.

“I don’t really know any teams. I barely know anything about quidditch,” Sunset said, reading the label on a wax jar.

Thankfully, Draco didn’t push her to pick a favourite, and instead just said, “mm, mine is Pride of Portree. Father is a big sponsor of them as well.”

Sunset just nodded, and they continued their browsing in silence.

After a while, the tension was clearly growing. Draco wanted something, and Sunset couldn’t tell if she was the one who needed to do or say… whatever it was that needed to be said, or if it was Draco himself.

He kept glancing at her, but then looked away and seemed to focus on the quidditch products.

“Can I help you, sir, miss?” a store clerk suddenly said, standing to their side.

Draco looked slightly peeved for just a moment, before Sunset spoke up in an even voice. “Nothing for me, thank you. I’m just browsing.”

When the clerk looked at Draco, he just shook his head, and turned back to the wares.

After a while, Draco nodded towards the door, and they exited in silence.

“So what do you think about what’s been happening in school?” Draco asked, as they slowly sauntered through the snow.

“With the attacks, you mean?” Sunset said.

“Uhm, yes… a-and in general,”

“It’s got everyone frightened,” Sunset said, forgetting to keep the small but noticeable amount of vitriol out of her voice, as by now she was mightily tired of the scent of worry and terror emanating from her fellow students, but took a moment to steady herself. “I guess I can’t blame anyone.”

“You’re not frightened though.”

“No, not really. You don’t seem frightened either.”

“I’m not. Then again, we’re both pureblood,” Draco pointed out.

“That’s true…” Sunset said, and looked through the window of a petstore, unsure where to go from there.

Draco scoffed. “And some say that Harry Potter is the one behind it all.”

“Mm, that doesn’t sound very likely to me either.”

Sunset could practically feel Draco tensing up for a moment, before he stepped forward, and asked, in a low voice, “who do you think it is?”

Sunset shook her head. “No idea.”

Draco stepped back again slightly, and they continued down the alley. “You’d think all the mu… muggleborns would have been sent home or left by now.”

“That might be safest,” Sunset agreed. “Maybe that’s what whoever is doing it wants. No one has died yet.”

Draco nodded, and kept looking at Sunset as they walked. “No one has, has they. That’d still be good though, them all leaving.”

Sunset raised her eyebrow as she glanced at Draco. “You’re really against muggleborns being taught at Hogwarts, aren’t you?”

He seemed to falter for a moment, before drawing himself up to a regal posture, or at least an attempted regal posture.

“I think it would be best for wizards and muggles to stay separate.”

“Right, and I guess almost every witch and wizard agrees with you, considering the whole statute of secrecy, but that leaves the question of muggleborn witches and wizards,” Sunset said, in a conversational tone.

“What about them?”

“You’re not in support of muggleborn witches and wizards being taught at Hogwarts. If they’re not, it’s either: teach them somewhere else, or not teach them at all, and since muggleborns still display magic even when not trained, that’d lead to constant breaches to the statute of secrecy.”

Draco gave Sunset a long look as he searched for words.

“... So what do you think?”

That almost caught Sunset off guard, but only almost.

If she were really honest, she felt that something was flawed about the wizarding society. It was hard to tell how serious that flaw was, but it felt like it was deep.

She suspected it might’ve been, or come from, a lack of vision. Wizards and witches existed, and nothing; no one and no force of any kind, were in a position to say that they should not, but was that all they did? Just… be? It almost felt like it. They hid away in their ancient enclaves and studied old, old magics, with some leisure activity and the occasional interfamilial drama, and of course wars, every now and then.

Sunset figured that perhaps she was biassed, being a pony of Equestria, and therefore being born with Harmony as an eternal guide, which encouraged ponies to pursue thoughtful benevolence in all aspects of life.

The wizarding society seemed to lack anything like this, and not only that, but did not even bother pursuing any meaning or vision.

Sunset scratched her ear as she considered Draco’s question. Something, some… half-forgotten lesson, told her that this was not the time to say what she had just been thinking to Draco, and instead shrugged.

“... I’m a sort of outsider myself. Could I really demand that this other kind of outsider be treated differently, but not me?”

“Yes you can,” Draco insisted a little too quickly, before internally stumbling. “You… You’re a pureblood. You… you’d be welcome among my family, I know that.”

That made Sunset pause. That was quite the thing to say, for nobility.

… Actual nobility that is, rather than someone like Sunset; a lost scion in a sea of lost scions.

“... Thank you.”

Fighting to not show relief on his face, Draco smiled.

“Is that it though?” Sunset asked, as they kept walking. “I’m welcomed because I’m vouched for?”

“Uh, well… yes?” Draco said, sounding uncertain.

Sunset just nodded in understanding. That was indeed how the nobility worked in her experience.

“Mmm… So where do you want to go next?”

Draco was looking off to the side, where the face of Garrick Ollivander could be seen smiling at them.

“I think we’re invited somewhere.”

Draco and Sunset looked at Ollivander for a moment, before stepping in through the door to his shop, Sunset surreptitiously pulling out a few hairs from her head.

The elderly wand-maker hurried up to them through the cramped interior.

“Aah, young Mister Malfoy, hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches, and of course…”

He reached Sunset, and carefully held out a hand, a gesture which Sunset reciprocated, and gently took hers in his own, and bowed down, relaxing for several seconds.

“... My lady. You warm my heart with your presence,” he whispered. “The results… Powerful, lively, even wild, and yet… such control. Among my very finest. I thank you again for such an opportunity, Lady Shimmer.”

“You’re very welcome,” Sunset said, smiling at him.

His face seemed to light even more, and his eyes widened when she opened her hand, and unseen by Draco, offered more hair to Ollivander.

“My… my lady… I… you honour me.”

Sunset just gently pushed the offering into his hand, and he swelled with pride.

Draco, having watched the exchange without any context, stood with confusion written all over his face.

He leaned in to try and get a look at what Ollivander and Sunset were exchanging.

“What’s that?”

The wandmaker suddenly turned to Draco, and studied him as if seeing him for the first time.

“... I see…” he said to… someone, possibly himself, in a low voice.

He snapped his fingers with his free hand, and the magical, self-measuring measuring tape, which Sunset had been momentarily beset by a year and a half ago now, floated up to measure Draco as Ollivander paced around him, inspecting his features closely, leaning in to inspect his neck and forehead, and mumbling to himself.

“... I see, I see, I see. Of course, and the change, and…” Ollivander chuckled to himself as he inspected the confused Draco. “Almost like a… yes. How… interesting.”

Draco had given up his attempt at overly dignified bearing, and just stood there, confused by the whole event.

“What is?” he asked.

Ollivander stepped in front of him, and gave him a scrutinising look. “... But would it not be…?” he said, stopped, and then pulled himself up to give Draco a much more ordinary look. “Young mister Malfoy,” he said, suddenly outright colloquially. “Would you agree to lend me your wand for a moment?”

Draco had almost pulled it out from underneath his robes when he looked up at Ollivander again. “What do you need it for?” he asked, but something made him pull it out and offer it regardless.

With a smooth, sweeping motion, Ollivander turned on the spot, his cloak swishing as he did so, and taking Draco’s wand out of his hand.

“For your wand’s sake,” he said, as he glided into the back of the store.

Draco looked at Sunset for some sort of reassurance, but Sunset, for some reason she couldn’t quite put her hoof on herself, didn’t feel suspicious at all. In fact, it was all somewhat amusing, so she simply shrugged.

Draco looked as if part of him wanted to storm after Ollivander and demand something from him, but a far greater part was very unsure of what to do, so he just carefully leaned over the counter, trying to see what was happening.

They could hear Ollivander mumble to himself between the tapping of wood on wood, like lightly striking sticks, or as it were, wands, against various surfaces on various points.

A slightly wide-eyed Draco turned to Sunset.

“What is he doing?” he whispered.

Sunset just smiled as she shrugged, and waved his concerns away.

Before Draco could ask again, Ollivander came gliding back out into the store.

“Here we are,” he said, and presented Draco’s wand to him.

Wary, Draco took the wand again, and held it tight this time.

“What did you do?” he asked, barely holding back an accusatory tone.

Ollivander drew himself up to his full height and eyed Draco critically, nodding slightly to himself.

“Something that will aid you, if you let it.”

Draco eyed his wand, and felt its weight and texture.

“This… is my wand,” he said.

Ollivander nodded. “Hawthorn. Ten inches. Pliable… Unicorn hair.”

Sunset opened her magical senses, and felt her own signature in Draco’s wand.

She frowned a little as she considered this, but couldn't think of anything about the idea that would be detrimental to herself, so she simply nodded slowly.

“And My Lady’s wand is to her liking?” Ollivander said, turning to Sunset.

She nodded, and brought out the polished and gleaming wand, and held it up to eye level.

Ollivander nodded as he looked at the wand. “Wonderful. Wonderful. Good. Excellent. One could hardly hope for a better connection… unsurprisingly,” he noted, with some humour in his voice, and turned his eyes towards Sunset. “There are no improvements to be made here.”

“Then I suppose we should get moving,” Sunset said.

Ollivander smiled, and held the door open for them. “It has been my pleasure.”

Sunset nodded at him as they exited the store, and she and Draco set out to walk along the avenue again.

Draco still held his wand in his hand, and looked at it curiously.

“What happened back there?” he asked.

Sunset just shrugged. “Who knows? He’s not exactly the most forthcoming figure there is.”

“But you seemed to know what was happening.”

Sunset shook her head. She knew one thing which was happening, but she kept that to herself. “Not really. I just tried not looking confused.”

Draco shook his head, and put his wand away. “But what was that you gave him? And why did he like you so much?”

Sunset waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, just some materials from home I happened to have lying around. It’s common where I’m from, but he still appreciates it. And… well, when I first met him he said I reminded him of something, or someone. I didn’t ask him more than that.”

As he walked, Draco looked at Sunset for a long while.

“... I thought you…” he said, and trailed off.

“You thought what?”

“Uh, that you… actually, nevermind,” he said, and stared ahead. “So… you… like muggles then?”

Sunset shrugged. She knew Draco didn’t like muggles. She didn’t know exactly why, but it was clear that he didn’t like them. She could pander to him, she could challenge him, or she could simply give him the truth.

“I don’t know. I’ve met, like, two muggles I think. That’s not really enough to form an opinion.”

Draco tried masking a sigh of relief. “I see.”

“They were okay though. And muggles have some good entertainment.”

“Do they?” Draco asked, sceptically.

“Yeah. Wanna see?”

Draco looked at Sunset as if she was going to pull out something entertaining from her robe. “Where?”

Nodding towards the Leaky Cauldron, Sunset said, “Right over there.”

He gave her a confused look, and she held back an amused chuckle. “I’ll show you.”

They walked back through the wall to the backlot of the inn, through the dining hall, and out the doors to the mundane, muggle-populated London.

Draco looked back and forth, his eyes scanning the streets up and down.

“How many muggles are there in this city?” he asked, sceptically, and looking a little uncomfortable. “There must be thousands.”

Sunset had barely spent eighteen moons in this world, and already she was surprised at Draco’s knowledge, or lack of knowledge, of his world. “Quite a few thousand,” she said, and started walking down the street.

“Where are we going?” Draco asked, hurrying after her through the snow.

“I saw a cinema this way.”

“What’s a cinema?”

“It’s a… theatre-like arrangement, where you play back recordings of images, kinda like the pictures in the newspaper, or Lockhart’s books, but with sound.”

“How?” Draco asked, incredulous.

“Oh uh… you capture a series of images onto a sort of film in the shape of a reel, and project them onto a large screen,” Sunset explained.

“And that’s what muggles do for fun?” Draco said, stumbling over a lump of snow.

“Not just muggles. There were cinemas where I’m from too, and there were no muggles there.”

“No muggles?” Draco immediately asked.

“Nope,” Sunset confirmed.

“... Really?”

“Really. No one who can’t do magic in some form, and being magical is the default way of existing and I don’t know of any exceptions.”

“... Must’ve been nice,” Draco noted.

Sunset gave Draco a sideways look. “... What would quidditch be like if Pride of Portree was the only team there is?”

Draco looked confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just something to think about.”

Draco searched for something to say, when he suddenly stopped, and looked around.

“Who is that singing?”

Sunset looked at the record store they were standing next to, with music coming from the door that was held partially open by a doorstop.

“In there,” she said.

Draco narrowed his eyes and peered in through the glass.

“♪… they’ve got rivers of gold,

but the wind goes right through you, it’s no place for the old

When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve,

you promised me Broadway was waiting for me♫

“... I can’t see anyone singing.”

Sunset, who had been enjoying the song, said, “They have speakers in the ceiling.”

Draco turned to Sunset. “Why do they have that? How can muggles have that?”

Sunset shrugged. “They’re not magical, they’re machines.”

Draco stared, sceptical, through the window of the store for a few more moments, before moving on.

They moved on through some small streets of London, with several people they passed turning around and looking at them.

After a few more moments of walking, they reached the place that Sunset had in mind. Muggles were standing around, talking to each other and being sociable. Through a pair of double doors, a line was formed in front of a booth, where some bored people were selling tickets.

“This is what I was curious about, and these would be the feature showings,” she said, indicating the wall of posters.

Draco looked around himself, uncomfortable with the strange looks people were giving them, until he spotted one poster.

“This looks like the doorknob to the rear entrance of the west wing of our mansion,” Draco said, pointing at a poster with a very evil-looking stone carving of a face. “What’s it about?”

The title was a simple one, and Sunset had heard the name before, but had to wrack her brain before remembering the entry for it in her muggle encyclopaedia. “Oh, right. It’s a story about a vampire.”

Draco looked taken aback. “These people don’t know about vampires,” he said, drawing some strange look from people standing around outside the entrance.

“The ones who made this production do,” Sunset noted.

Draco looked at the poster, clearly curious, when a man standing next to them turned to face Draco.

“‘ere, you two from a theatre group then?”

Draco turned to the man, surprised, before his face contorted in annoyance. “I’m not a thespian, cretin! I’m an aristocrat!”

The man recoiled slightly, before he turned to Sunset instead. “Is tha’ method acting?”

Sunset shook her head. “No, but… think of it as if it were.”

The man nodded in understanding. “Roight, gotcha. Oi know a moon cadet when Oi sees one,” he said, and moved on with his friends.

“What did he mean by that?” Draco asked Sunset.

“Don’t worry. Think of it as a compliment.”

“... Right. Well, what do we do now?”

Waving her finger inside her cloak, Sunset weaved a simple illusion to make the two of them uninteresting to the muggles around them. “We go in and watch the movie,” she said, looking at the time tables. “We’re just in time.”

She led them past a sparse collection of muggles in winter clothes, and attendants of the cinema, towards the correct showing, magicing a container of popcorns into her hand as she did.

Inside the dark room, Sunset had to strengthen the illusion when Draco loudly asked, “Is that it?” regarding the silver screen on the far end.

“Yep. C’mon,” Sunset said, and led them up to some empty seat far up in the theatre.

They sat down, and Sunset surreptitiously weaved a temporary silencing spell around them, preventing anyone from hearing what they said.

“... Is anything supposed to happen?” Draco asked, impatiently.

“Yeah yeah,” Sunset said, placatingly, keeping her eyes on the screen. “It’s about to start.”

A soft, dark, oppressive rhythm rang through the theatre, and a large, exotic building, wreathed in smoke emanating from around it, appeared on the screen, before the symbol from the top of the building fell upon rocks, smashing it to bits.

Draco’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Sunset for some sort of confirmation that this impossibility was actually real, but Sunset was looking straight ahead, already soaking in what was happening.

Then a silken voice told the gathered onlookers what was happening.

“The year: Fourteenhundred and sixty two; Constantinople had fallen…”

“Is he the vampire?”

“Uh… don’t know yet,” Sunset mumbled.

They couldn’t discern any vampires yet. A prince kissed his bride goodbye, exited the holy place they were in, to be greeted by a cheering army, and the oppressing, tense music already reached a crescendo as a blood red night sky outlined the silhouettes of battle quickly devolving into a massacre.

Sunset felt it was a good thing it was mostly abstract, because she could practically hear Draco tensing up in his seat, his eyes in terror and gripping the arms of his seat until his already pale knuckles were completely white.

Sunset, meanwhile, hadn’t looked away for a minute, munching popcorns as the prince wept over the death of his bride that happened in his absence.

The holy man apparently said completely the wrong thing, and the prince raged.

“Aceasta este recompensa mea pentru apărarea bisericii lui Dumnezeu!?”

“Nu întoarce spatele lui Hristos!”

“Voi învia din propria mea moarte și voi răzbuna pe a ei cu toate puterile întunericului!”

Sunset read the translation on the bottom of the screen, and a delighted shiver ran down her spine. “Oooh…”

“This isn’t real, is it?” Draco nervously asked, as torrents of blood poured from the statues and candles of the temple.

Sunset slowly shook her head, eyes glued to the screen.

She thought that perhaps it spoke to her because she was a unicorn of Equestria. It hadn’t happened for a long time, but her people had met their share of dark lords.

Dracula was undead, and the civilizational memory of the undead, true undead, still haunted Equestria.

The subject of blood, however, piqued her curiosity.

Sunset kept munching on her popcorn as the movie progressed, with Draco tensing up any time something interesting happened.

The story moved to London, almost a hundred years before the time that Sunset and Draco were sitting there. Sunset thought it looked familiar. Draco didn’t notice the difference at all.

The presence of the undead vampire prince twisted the environment around him. It became the opposite of Sunset’s homeland. The environment dimmed, shadows grew long, the beasts became restless and violent, and a general malaise settled upon the land.

Sunset remembered the book she had read at Hogwarts, which told her that a unicorn’s blood curses the drinker.

The tradition of clothes was something Sunset had picked up on quickly, and when a recent vampire victim squirmed in her bed, she got a further hint of what would happen if she didn’t follow that tradition. Draco absolutely radiated an embarrassed heat at the sight of just a little skin. Sunset still didn’t understand what the big deal was, but humans apparently did.

It was several moments after Dracula had arrived in London, when the movie had lost some tension, when Draco managed to speak again. “V-vampires can’t do that, can they?”

Sunset only just managed to hold back a small laugh, as right now he reminded her of Neville.

“Don’t know,” she noted. “We have people who feed on blood where I’m from, but I’ve never met an undead one.”

Draco nodded, and tried steeling himself.

“He can appear as mist, as vapour.”

“Ooh, good idea,” Sunset mumbled to herself.

Both the dark prince, and his main hunter, was enthralling Sunset with their performances, and as the blood flowed like violent rivers, Sunset’s looked on in fascination, before she realised that Draco looked like he was about to faint.

“Too much for you?” she asked.

Draco tried and failed to look affronted, or defiant, or something. “N-no!” he insisted.

When Sunset held out the popcorn basket to him, he wordlessly declined.

Sunset couldn’t help but let out a short, “whoa,” to herself, as the vampire hunter carried the three decapitated heads of his enemy’s monstrous servant in his hands, and wondered if there were similar scenes when monsters were fought back home.

After the tale had concluded, Sunset walked out of the cinema with a slightly shaking Draco, who was eager to get back out into the sunlight again.

Sunset was quietly thinking to herself about the similarities between vampires, as depicted on this world, and Celestia, and wondered if there were any similarities, and if Celestia’s mere presence had an effect opposite to that of the ancient vampire lord.

“Well that was fun. Should we head back to school?” she asked.

“What!? Oh! Uh, yes… N-no, uhm… I was thinking that uhm… you might want to have dinner… at my home?”

Sunset surprised herself by not instinctively scrambling for excuses to decline.

Perhaps it was because Sunset hadn’t really spent much time with anyone for weeks. She talked a fair bit with Neville, and sometimes with Lavender and Parvati, but mostly in the dorms. Something kept people from talking with her, and Sunset wondered if it was the quiet ire that Ron had levelled at her, or if she had finally pushed people away.

Was she, Sunset Shimmer… lonely?

She strongly hoped not, but besides that, Draco was nobility, and the nobility likes to flaunt, often through magnanimousness and grace. To deny them a chance to do so could lead to such headaches, and Celestia wasn’t around to shield Sunset from that.

“Oh you are under no obligation to entertain me.”

“Uh… well, no but… I’m offering anyway.”

“In that case, thank you.”

There were a few moments of disbelieving joy on Draco’s face before he managed to get it under control, and instead looked pleased and dignified.

“Let’s go then.”

They walked back through the snow to The Leaky Cauldron, and Draco stepped through the fireplace first in order to show Sunset where they were meant to go.

Sunset followed Draco into the fireplace with a pinch of floo powder in her hands, and said, “Malfoy Manor!”

The green flames engulfed her, and she stepped out into the spacious vestibule of what was obviously a mansion.

Draco was standing a little to her side, looking gracious. “Welcome to my home,” he said.

“Thank you,” Sunset said, looking around.

The floor was polished marble covered in red and purple carpets, with a staircase leading up to an alcove which, just like the ground floor, had several doors leading into different wings of the building.

The walls were richly decorated, and lined with things like a finely crafted grandfather clock, paintings which were currently unoccupied or just depicting landscapes or other manors, and very old shields and swords.

The windows were largely covered by thick, expensive looking drapes, and the panes themselves were covered in frost, so that the daylight spilling in was very muted. The effect was further amplified by the fact that most of the material, such as the walls and railing, were woods like cherry and ebony, which ate a lot of the sunlight.

Sunset also noticed that, while old and expensive beyond anything she had seen on this world, except for Hogwarts, the old toughening enchantments on the objects were by now rather weak, and couldn’t keep the surfaces quite as pristine anymore.

Her attention shifted from the environment to a small, strange creature scurrying up towards them from behind the stairs. It was of the same general configuration as humans, with a face and the same number of limbs with fingers and toes on the end, but that was where the similarities ended.

For starters, it only barely reached her waist. Other than that, Sunset thought it looked like a mix between a bat and a tarsier. Oversized ears and enormous eyes, as well as looking slightly emaciated.

Walking around without clothes wasn’t something Sunset, a unicorn, normally raised her eyebrows at, but the creature was dressed in a pillowcase, with holes for the arms and head.

“Young Master!” it, or rather he, said in a squeaky voice, and Sunset felt he was trying to hide how nervous he was at this surprise, giving Sunset a fearful look before he turned to Draco again. “Young Master is home again, and with a guest.”

“Of course I’m home!” Draco barked at the small creature. “Now go–” Draco stopped himself and cast a very minute glance at Sunset “... go and tell father that we have a guest, Dobby.”

“Oh yes, sir! Dobby goes, sir!” the apparent Dobby said, sounding relieved, as he bowed and scurried off. “Master will be so pleased! Finally meeting his gue–”

Dobby stopped himself, and threw Draco and Sunset a scared look, before ducking into the room he was heading for.

Draco tensed up, and fought back a blush, before turning to Sunset.

“That was Dobby, our house elf,” he said, sounding important.

Sunset had only read very briefly about house elves from an old book which didn’t explain much, and had logged the term as a low priority topic.

“I see,” she said, neutrally, noting that Dobby was clearly a servant, and that Draco had neglected introducing her and Dobby to each other.

Instead of voicing this, she looked around at the decor.

Draco jumped on the chance to change the subject.

“Anyway, this is Malfoy Manor,” he said. “One of them anyway.”

An eyebrow of Sunset raised up. “One of them?”

“Yeah. We have a few summer houses, some other holdings. A mansion here and there. It caused a problem when Floo powder was invented, since ‘Malfoy Manor’ could mean so many places, so this is our only mansion with access to the floo network, to avoid confusion. It’s okay though. Some of them we hardly ever go to.”

“Oh really?” Sunset said.

“Yes. So… would you like a quick tour?” Draco offered.

A slight delay to Sunset’s response put Draco just slightly off-guard. “Yes please.”

He smiled, and invited her up the stairs.

They stepped into one wing of the mansion, just as dark and richly decorated as the vestibule, and Sunset could practically smell the very old, very vast wealth.

She tried comparing it to Canterlot Castle, but it didn’t lend it itself to that. The Malfoys clearly had very large piles of money lying around, and properties aplenty, while Celestia in many ways didn’t really need money. Celestia had money, of course, being not only the executive administrator of the state and naturally having learned a lot about the art of economics through her life, but one of the strongest aspects in the fabric of Equestrian society, and her nature as an immortal princess gave her more influence than the rich ponies who spent their money trying to accumulate influence ever could.

A noble pony trying to change something about society would spend wealth in an attempt to gain power and influence, such as putting on high society shindigs, and the best way to do so would be to host it at the castle, and when she had finally started to wrap her head around it, Sunset had realised that the one who gained the most influence was always Celestia herself, eclipsing the power that the noble who spent their money organising it at her castle gained.

But where Sunset admitted herself to always being outclassed was the fine manipulations during a ball or gala. Celestia always arranged things so that wealth flowed out towards the general populace, and the nobles, no matter their general dispositions, always left with smiles on their faces.

“... This is the long gallery,” Draco said, holding open a door and stepping into a, naturally, long room lined with portraits, cabinets, and glass display cases. The portraits all looked on passively at the pair, just like the portraits of previous headmasters at Hogwarts, and the cases held all manners of magic paraphernalia. From an old, grime-encrusted coin, to a ruby-adorned gold sceptre, to a pair of old glasses stained with blood which was somehow still red and wet, to some sort of bone that Sunset couldn’t place.

“Father’s collection goes back centuries, back to before the statute of secrecy,” Draco proudly supplied.

Sunset, meanwhile, could feel the magic radiating off the mementos, old enough to be treasures. Some seemed simple, if well-crafted, some of them Draco and his family probably couldn’t tell had faded long ago, and some, Sunset was sure, were outright sinister, but it was hard to say.

“Very impressive,” Sunset said, leaning forward to look at an impossibly thin wine glass as she struggled with making smalltalk. “Do you know how long it goes back?”

“Uhm, actually no,” Draco admitted. “It’s all in the family chronicles, but we can’t read the old ones, unless you happen to speak French?”

“... En fait, je pense que oui,” Sunset noted, who could speak with gryphon dignitaries from several territories in their native tongues.

“Very impressive,” a new voice said, and Draco and Sunset both turned to see someone whom Sunset had only seen fleetingly over a year ago.

Draco very much looked like a younger version of his father, having the same hair, style of clothing, and air of ever so slightly overdone superiority, but he did not have his father’s poised demeanour.

Sunset internally groaned as she rushed to remember how formal diplomacy worked. She didn’t know Lucius, but his posture and demeanour spoke volumes. Playing it off too modestly could be interpreted as demeaning if Lucius didn’t speak that language as well, so Sunset simply inclined her head slightly and calmly.

“Thank you, sir.”

He swept up to Draco and Sunset with somewhat long strides, and extended an arm, which Sunset reciprocated, and Lucius didn’t shake it, but simply gently took it in his own as he locked eyes with Sunset, putting on a look which told Sunset that he was only curious about her, but that if she was observant, she’d notice he was scrutinising her quite close.

“Welcome to our home,” he said. “I am Lucius Malfoy.”

“Sunset Shimmer. Thank you for having me,” Sunset responded without missing a beat.

Lucius smiled, and let go of Sunset’s hand, and instead put an arm around Draco’s shoulder.

“Hello, father,” Draco said, looking up at his father with a deep affection underneath that slightly stiff response.

“Welcome home, Draco. I hope school has been treating you well.”

“It has, and has offered additional excitement lately.”

“Mmm, you are of course referring to the tragic attacks?”

“Yes. They are quite the mystery,” Draco said, and looked at Sunset with… Sunset had trouble interpreting his look, but perhaps a knowing smile.

Lucius, however, did not share that expression. He just looked at Sunset with the same amount of polite standoffishness as before.

“Quite,” he said, and held out a hand invitingly to Sunset. “And now, dinner is ready. I hope you’ll join us, Miss Shimmer?”

“Thank you,” Sunset said, inclining her head, and followed the two similar figures out of the room.

Through the half-lit hardwood corridors, Lucius led them back to the entrance hall, and into another wing, to a large dining room, where a great, long table stood, adorned with silver candelabras, a silk tablecloth, and various other fineries.

From an entrance on the opposite form which Sunset had come from, the woman that Sunset had also seen briefly a year before entered, glancing back and waving her hand.

“And do have the dessert ready afterward, Dobby,” she said, and turned to see Sunset.

Doing a poor job of hiding a scrutinising look behind a neutral expression, she walked up to her son and put one arm around her, and he tried not to lean into her embrace.

“Hello, Draco dear,” she said.

“Hello, mother.”

“So, who is this you’ve brought for dinner?” she asked, again doing a poor job of expressing surprise.

“This is Sunset Shimmer from school, who I’ve… mm, anyway,” Draco said, interrupting himself. “Sunset, this is my mother.”

“Narcissa Malfoy. A pleasure,” she said.

“Sunset Shimmer. Charmed,” Sunset said, nodding her head while doing her best to convey the idea that she had just curtsied.

Narcissa nodded, and invited Sunset to take a seat at the long side of the table.

“Dobby!” Narcissa called out, and the small creature scurried out of the kitchen at breakneck speed, panting slightly as he did, and pulled out the chairs for them to sit down in.

Sunset’s eyes followed Dobby as she sat down, and he bowed before returning to the kitchen.

Lucius was seated at the short side, with his wife and son to either side, and Sunset seated beside Draco, and subtly arranged it so that she happened to sit a little bit further away from them than they were to each other.

Just as Sunset wondered who was going to strike up which kind of conversation, if any, Dobby came out of the kitchen with a plate with four small helping of soup and salad, and gracefully doled them out to the four people around the table.

“Thank you,” Sunset said, in a terse but curt manner, which Dobby smiled nervously at, and which Draco looked curiously back and forth between them.

As soon as Lucius started eating, so did Sunset. And it was a nice soup too, and the right season for warm appetisers.

“So…” Lucius said, after the soup was finished, and he was leisurely chewing on a piece of crisp salad. “Miss Shimmer, we have been introduced, and you have seen our house, parts of it at least. Will you reveal a bit about yourself?”

At this point, Dobby staggered out of the kitchen under the weight of a giant silver cloche, and Sunset took the time to prepare some answers as the little creature climbed a little stool to put the main course on the table.

He removed the lid to reveal some sort of cooked fowl surrounded by cooked tubers, before wordlessly bowing, and pausing for a short moment as if to make time for some sort of comment, but when none came, a tension lifted from him, and he hurried back into the kitchen.

Lucius and Narcissa both brought out their wands, and Lucius started with floating his plate up to the main course, and cutting a serving up to himself, while Narcissa did the same for herself and Draco.

After that, Lucius turned to look at Sunset, with a hint of a smug expression on his face, before noticing that at some point, someone, presumably Sunset, had done the same for her, with a slight focus on the plants.

He and Narcissa gave her a slightly suspicious look, before digging in.

“Now, where were we?” Lucius said, between bites. “Ah, yes, we were talking about you, Miss Shimmer.”

“We were in Diagon Alley earlier,” Draco eagerly supplied. “Ollivander called us into his store, and Sunset gave him some rare materials for his work.”

“Mm?” Narcissa said, inclining her head in what almost looked like polite interest at Sunset. “You have been travelling then?”

Sunset bobbed her head slightly as she thought. “In a sense.”

“From where?” Lucius asked.

“Oh, far away. I don’t really talk about it,” Sunset said, slightly apologetically.

“And your family is still there?” Lucius asked, and the slightly confused look that Draco gave him told Sunset he already knew the answer.

“No, they passed away,” Sunset said.

“Mmm, that is tragic,” Lucius said, and took a small sip of wine. “But you seem well-versed in the ways of magic.”

“Naturally. I grew up around it, and I was trained in it.”

Slight smirks grew on Lucius’ and Narcissa’s lips, before they hid it again.

“But I’m surprised,” Lucius said, conversationally. “You seem like a natural Slytherin student, and yet you are in Gryffindor house.”

“Thank you,” Sunset said, inclining her head towards him. “Though I don’t want to seem dismissive of local customs, the gravity of one’s school house might be in part lost to me.”

“No such tradition where you are from then?” Narcissa asked.

Sunset shook her head. “No.”

“There are no muggles where she’s from,” Draco said, watching his parents closely for their reaction.

Lucius and Narcissa cast a quick glance at each other. Lucius then reclined in his chair as he studied Sunset.

“... Interesting.”

“She never reveals where she’s from though,” Draco told his parents in a conversational tone, and shrugged, before turning to Sunset. “Hey, the book that writes back to you, is that where you’re from?”

That took Sunset slightly by surprise. She was so used to playing verbal cat and mouse that she wasn’t ready for such a straightforward question.

“Uh… as far as you know?”

Draco smirked, and looked at his parents, when he noticed that they were both absolutely still, staring intently at Sunset, Narcissa’s fork halfway to her mouth which was hanging open.

“Uh…” Draco started.

Lucius and Narcissa cast a glance at each other, before Lucius jerkily turned his head towards the kitchen. “D… Dobby!”

A second later, Dobby ran out of the kitchen and stopped in front Lucius, bowing deeply. “M-master?”

“How is…” he said, trying not to speak through gritted teeth. “... the… dessert coming along?”

“A-almost ready, master! Nearly done!” Dobby said, bowing low again.

“Good… good. S… see that it’s ready on time,” Lucius said, distracted, and waved Dobby away again.

“Yes, master! At once, master!” Dobby said, and bowed again before running back into the kitchen.

Lucius took a deep breath, and turned back to the table, seeing Draco staring at him with wide eyes.

“What… book is that?” he said, very obviously trying to sound politely curious.

Not at all sure what to make of that reaction, Sunset pulled out her and Celestia's connected book from her bag under the chair, and held it up for them to see.

Lucius and Narcissa looked like they put a gargantuan effort into not showing how relieved they were at the sight.

“... Fascinating,” Lucius said, smiling politely at Sunset and Malfoy. “... I, myself, am quite the collector of magic. Magical items, in fact. But you knew that already. Draco was showing you part of my collection earlier.”

Sunset felt it was best to move on from the display moment earlier, and put her book away again. “Yes, I didn’t get a close look, but it seemed… extensive.”

“Mmm, I cannot take full credit, of course,” Lucius continued in a conversational tone. “I inherited a large part of it.”

At this point, Dobby came out of the kitchen, wobbling slightly less from the lighter burden than the earlier ones, and climbed up on his little stool to place the dessert on the table. Some sort of crème brûlée, but with extra everything, artistically arranged.

“Thank you,” Sunset said shortly to Dobby (she was the only one to do so) who bowed deeply at her after staring in surprise for a moment, before bowing deeply and scurrying back into the kitchen.

“Are you heading back to Hogwarts later, Draco?” Narcissa asked.

“Mhm,” Draco nodded, mouth full of dessert.

“No need to leave just yet. Perhaps Sunset would like another look around?”

Having been educated by Princess Celestia, and indeed partly raised by her, Sunset had practice, training, and experience with social grace.

She just didn’t have much of a talent in it.

An excuse to leave soon would be welcome, as the pressure of being a guest of the aristocracy could be intense.

Even so, she gambled that resisting their grace within the limits of politeness could just draw things out, so she simply braced herself and looked politely expectant.

“Do you wanna see my room?” Draco said, before realising something. “Or perhaps the library?”

“I’m always willing to learn things,” Sunset said, relieved.

After the three course meal, Sunset and Draco went back to the central hall, when suddenly Dobby ran up behind them.

“What, Dobby?” Draco asked, anger and annoyance on his face.

Dobby recoiled, and turned to Sunset. “D-Dobby apologises, but… Dobby did not offer to… care for… the young mistress’ luggage,” he said, and looked up at her with a wretched expression.

Sunset looked down at her shoulder bag. Normally. she would be unwilling to surrender it, but something about Dobby’s pitiful demeanour made her relent.

It would do no good to deny Dobby a chance to look good in front of his master by turning his help down, or depositing it somewhere herself, so she quickly cast a quick charm to lighten the weight on it further, and held it out to the house elf.

“Thank you, Dobby,” she said, and Dobby quickly took the bag in his arms and bowed again, before hurrying back to where he came from.

“Normally he’s much more thorough,” Draco said, disapprovingly, before they continued on.

The Malfoys’ library was as big as the publicly accessible part of Hogwarts’ library. The difference was the welcome absence of Madam Pince, and fewer large tables for study, instead having more things like desks and lecterns.

It was also as dark as the rest of the Malfoys’ manor, with ebony bookshelves, populated with books bound in dark leather.

“Father has quite the collection of books as well. Bet you haven’t seen a library this impressive privately owned, have you?” Draco asked.

“That’s true, I haven’t,” Sunset lied, taking in the sight and pretending to be more impressed than she was.

“The ministry has many laws restricting what kind of artefacts that can be privately owned, but it’s not as strict when it comes to books.”

Sunset turned to see Draco having a smug look on his face, when she noticed something on the wall behind him.

“What’s that?” she asked.

Draco turned to see an old, large map on the wall, behind a wheeled board covered in dusty old papers.

“Oh, that. That’s just a map of Malfoy holdings,” he said, a little dismissively.

Curious, Sunset walked up and studied it.

It was a yellowed old paper, large enough to cover a school blackboard, showing the entire British Isles, with little illustrations representing the larger cities, as well as a dozen or so little pictures of castles and mansions.

“That’s our summer house,” Draco said, pointing to one near the coast. “That one is a castle which we mostly use to store furniture in. That one might be destroyed, I’m not sure. That one actually used to be the seat of the family long ago. I’ve never been there myself though. That one is lent to the ministry until further notice. I’ve never been there either.”

Sunset nodded at Draco’s words, while focusing on memorising the locations of the little illustrations on the map.

“And that one…” Draco said, stopping to think.

“... Is also empty,” Narcissa finished for him, standing behind them. “Your great uncle lived there, working on potions.”

“Oh right,” Draco said, having turned around to see his mother. “I’ve never been there either, I think.”

“No. We send Dobby to check in every now and then, but the enchantments keep it fresh. It’s a smaller house, but quite livable. He made a good living, being a potions master. The talent must run in the family,” Narcissa noted, smiling at Draco. “Professor Snape tells us you have quite the head for potions as well.”

Draco gave a proud smile, turning to Sunset, who had to nod in agreement. Snape constantly praised Draco’s works in front of the class. While the praise probably helped give Draco the confidence to do well, Sunset figured that there was underlying talent to back it up.

“Sunset also does well in potions,” Draco offered. “Though Professor Snape, uhm…”

“Keeps any praise to himself, and just as well,” Sunset finished.

Narcissa looked amused. “It is a good idea to have friendly relations with the faculty of Hogwarts, especially if the roles were to be switched around at any point. One never knows how long Dumbledore stays headmaster, for instance. A friendly letter to Professor Snape could… help him see you in a new light.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Sunset said.

“Such self-sufficiency,” Narcissa noted. “You would do well to accept the occasional gift.”

“That could be a dangerous topic for my standing,” Sunset pointed out. “I arrived here with no token of appreciation for the hospitality.”

Narcissa looked mildly impressed. “Then perhaps we should turn to other traditions? If boons are mere gestures, perhaps… accepting something to serve as a reminder of your visit to our house?”

Sunset was about to nod in a graceful manner, when Draco suddenly smiled, grabbed her sleeve, and pulled her with him. “Great! You can have my favourite broom!”

Thankfully, Draco’s room was in the same wing as the library, so the awkward pulling didn’t last very long. Draco pulled Sunset into a large room, just as richly decorated as the rest of the house, but with comics and other light, and magical, reading stacked carefully on the nightside table, as well as a large, interactive quidditch game. Sunset strongly suspected that it was Dobby who kept the room tidy.

“Here,” Draco said, opening his closet and pulling out a broom. It was far more fancy than the rickety old thing that Sunset had gotten her limited practice on at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t quite Harry’s Nimbus Two Thousand either. He held it out for Sunset. “It’s not a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, but it’s still a Comet Two-Ninety.”

Sunset waited for a short moment before accepting it. “Thank you.”

“I could give you some pointers on how to fly,” Draco said, as they walked out to the grand entrance hall.

“In winter?” Sunset gently deflected.

“Okay, maybe not,” Draco admitted.

In the hall, Lucius and Narcissa were waiting for them. Lucius put his arm around Draco again, and Narcissa hugged him, and handed him a big paper bag which Sunset could sense the scent of sweets and candies coming off of.

“Have a good time in school. Write to us,” Narcissa said.

“Yes, yes,” Draco said, and disengaged, embarrassed.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Sunset said, nodding towards Lucius.

“Our pleasure,” he said, and looked around for a moment, before snapping his fingers with an annoyed look on his face.

From a corner, Dobby scurried up, and bowed in front of Sunset while offering her bag.

“Thank you,” she said, curtly.

Dobby’s eyes lingered on Sunset for a moment, as if wanting to say something, but instead he looked back at Lucius, who gave Dobby a stern look, making him scurry off again.

“Well, come on,” Draco said, and moved into the fireplace with a fistfull of floo powder. “Hogwarts, third floor.”

A moment later, Sunset followed him, and they stepped out into the same mostly unused room.

“Well, that was fun,” Draco said, as they walked back out into the corridor, Sunset having her new broom over her shoulder.

“It was,” Sunset said, not sure if she was lying or not, though she could feel the relief of soon being able to be alone.

As they reached the part of the corridor where they’d separate to reach each others’ common rooms, Draco stopped, and searched for words.

“Well I, uh… I… had fun…”

Sunset kept herself from pointing out that he had already said that.

“Mhm,” Sunset said, desperately searching for something polite to say. “Thank you for the broom.”

Draco’s face lit up in relief. “Oh, yeah, no problem. I, uh… should see if those two have turned up yet.”

“Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around,” Draco said, and half-turned around while taking a step back.

“Yep, see you later,” Sunset said, and turned around herself.

As she rounded a corner, she let out a sigh, and paused to look out at the white, snow-covered landscape while enjoying the silence.

Sunset thought about Draco’s parents. She thought there was something strange about their behaviour, but then again, Sunset thought so about most witches and wizards, and Draco Malfoy especially. It would make sense if his parents were strange in similar ways.

Dobby had also been the first house elf Sunset had seen, and she didn’t know if he was being treated poorly, or if he smelled scared because he was just always nervous, like Neville, or if Sunset’s presence had broken his routine and he didn’t like that.

That sudden tension from Lucius and Narcissa around the dinner table was also strange, but before Sunset could think too hard on that, something broke her out of her pondering.

“MISS SHIMMER!” Professor McGonagall yelled angrily, making Sunset jump.

Her head of house stomped up towards her from the end of the hallway. “Where have you been!?”

Sunset took a moment to calm herself, a little peeved at McGonagall seemingly trying to give her a heart attack.

This was, admittedly, not a good look, at least not for anyone who cared about school rules, as Sunset had been gone for several hours, and she didn’t know how long McGonagall had been searching for her. Besides, a broom that Sunset didn’t previously own was resting on her shoulder.

Sunset hummed as she pondered on how best to answer this.

“Getting some fresh air,” she finally said.

McGonagall stopped in front of her, looking down what little difference in height there was between them. “Did you leave the school grounds, Miss Shimmer?” she asked, sharply.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” Sunset calmly asked.

McGonagall puffed herself up. “That attitude is most unbecoming, Miss Shimmer, and unless you provide me with a good explanation regarding your whereabouts, I shall put you in detention.”

Sunset narrowed her eyes, slightly. “I get the feeling that it won’t matter much what I say.”

McGonagall was already matching Sunset’s expression, but narrowed her eyes further. “Twenty points from Gryffindor, and you are to report to me tomorrow evening for you detention assignment.”

Sunset stared at her ostensible teacher for a drawn out moment, before speaking calmly again. “Then if there is nothing else,” she said, and turned on her heel and walked back to the Gryffindor common room.

—

Lucius Malfoy sat behind his desk in his study, deeply focused on his task of putting the stack of torn out, blank pages in a new leather binding.

The relief when Dobby had entered with the girl’s bag as ordered, and Lucius had retrieved the tome from inside it, had been absolutely immense.

It hadn’t been the book that Lucius had been so worried about, but Draco’s words had left him too intrigued not to investigate.

Looking inside had revealed many pages covered in arcane signs that he had no knowledge of, but the different styles, sizes, and colours of the letters hinted that, just as Draco said, whoever wrote in the book wasn’t just writing for themselves. Draco claimed the girl was skilled in magic, and she was communicating with someone, or something.

The writing was not English, but the girls spoke English, and so it was a reasonable assumption that whatever was in the book could communicate in English as well.

Lucius had gotten confirmation that the book was magical when he had carefully but quickly cut out a fistful of the deceptively large amount of pages from near the end of the book, where the pages were blank, and the book had reconstituted itself, removing any hint of damage, though leaving Lucius with a collection of magical pages in his hand.

With some careful spellwork, the pages were bound in protective leather, and multiplied right before his very eyes until it was the size of a proper tome.

Intrigued, Lucius opened the book, and studied in closely for several minutes, before he picked up a quill, dipped the top of it in an inkwell, and put it to the first, blank page.

—

On another plane of existence, Princess Celestia walked up to the glowing book, and opened it.

But it wasn’t where she had left off writing to Sunset where words were forming.

Mildly confused, she rapidly flipped the pages until she reached the glowing one, and raised her eyebrow at the words forming.

I, Lucius Malfoy, of the esteemed and highborn house of Malfoy, demand that you reveal your secrets.

“Oh do you now?”

Author's Notes:

This was a real pain to write. I've been struggling to write for ages, enthusiasm has been low, and it was a frustrating chapter to get right, with many things needing to play out the right way, but also be open-ended enough, and it turns out I have real trouble writing British nobility. Not to mention that a lot of the characters featured here does not really have a lot on the way of characterization in the source material.

Also, I did my best with the movie, but I don't speak Hungarian.