Chapters Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 1: A Fine Day in Ponyville
The sun was shining bright, held aloft in the sky by Celestia’s unfathomable and possibly unholy alicorn-god power. The weather was bright and cheerful, with puffy white clouds positioned just so by a crew of Pegasi devoted to the absolute engineering of all atmospheric phenomena in Ponyville and the surrounding districts. That job apparently paid well, as Rainbow Dash’s enormous mansion could be seen drifting on the far horizon, hemorrhaging rainbows from improperly maintained rainbow tanks. Either that, or, considering how the distant house was made of scraps of cloud, it was quite possible that Pegasi were not even paid at all.
Several of these thoughts occurred to Sweetie Belle as she trotted through one of the central access paths that ran through Sweet Apple Acres, whistling to herself as she enjoyed the day. She was just coming back from school. It being Saturday, of course, she had spent an hour in an empty schoolhouse before realizing that no pony was going to show up. For the third time that month.
As she composed her song, taking careful mental note of the tones and frequencies that worked and those that did not, Sweetie Belle came across Applebloom’s significantly older brother. He was standing at the foot of an enormous tree, one with a trunk at least twice as thick as he was. Sweetie Belle stopped to stare at him, and then looked up at the enormous tree.
“Wow,” she said, getting dizzy from looking up so high. “That’s a big tree!”
“Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh, smiling bashfully.
“Are you really going to buck that?”
“Eeyup.”
“Wow. That’s not going to be easy. But everypony in town says you’re the best at bucking, though. Apart from your sister, of course. The attractive one, I mean.”
“Eeyup.”
“You must really love bucking.”
“Eeyup.”
“I guess that’s why your cutie mark is tangentially related to your ability to buck.”
“Eeyup.”
“And Applejack’s too. I’m surprised you’re not bucking with her right now.”
Big Mac shrugged. Applejack was, no doubt, off doing some manner of royal princess-assisting.
“I see. Well, if she keeps up with all that business, you’re going to have to teach Applebloom how to buck.”
“Eeyup.”
Sweetie Belle smiled. “You’ll also transfer most of the farm’s bits to me, right? A good seventy- -I mean ninety percent of them? And about eighty or so gallons of cider?”
Big Mac frowned. “Nope.”
“Darn it. I thought I would get you that time,” said Sweetie Belle, giggling. She started to trot off again. “Well, good luck with your applebucking! Remember to buck every single one of those apples!”
“Eeyup,” laughed Big Mack.
As Sweetie Belle vanished from sight in the direction of the Cutie Mark Crusader’s tree house, Big Mac smiled- -and then looked around suspiciously. From behind the unusually large tree, a pink colored sheep poked her head out.
“Is she gone yet?”
Big Mac took her by the hoof and twirled her, then lowered her into a dip as she blushed profusely.
“Big Mac!” she giggled. “You’re such a romantic!”
“Eeyup…”
Sweetie Belle approached the Cutie Mark Crusader’s clubhouse. Every time she saw it, she felt the same feeling. Surprise, largely, at the fact that it had not fallen in yet. Yes, it had been built by Applejack- -probably- -but it also spent a great deal of time housing Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle was amazed it had not yet burned to a crisp.
Upon entering, Sweetie Belle found her two primary friends already in attendance. Sitting against the back wall in one corner was Scootaloo, a bottle of butterbeer in one hoof and about thirty in various stages of fullness or emptiness surrounding her. She was staring somewhat blankly across the room, where Applebloom was working intently on something under a pair of bright lamps.
“Hey,” said Sweetie Belle, putting down her saddlebag.
Scootaloo looked at the bag, and then up at Sweetie Belle. “You went to school again, didn’t you.”
“No,” said Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo raised one eyebrow, and Sweetie Belle sighed. “Yes…”
“Sweetie Belle!” said Applebloom, turning suddenly. She was wearing a surgical mask, which she promptly pulled down to reaveal a wide grin. “You’ll never guess what I did!”
“Is it another crime against common decency that normally gets ponies banished to the Everfree Forest?”
“No! That only happened that ONE time- -”
“Three,” corrected Scootaloo. “It happened three times.”
“At least one of those was on a technicality! But no, I’m pretty sure this is legal!”
“‘Pretty sure’?”
Excitedly, Applebloom picked up an object from the table she had been working on held it up triumphantly.
“And…it’s an apple,” said Sweetie Belle.
“It’s a pretty good looking apple,” admitted Scootaloo. “I’d eat it.”
“Just an apple? HA!” Applebloom set the apple on the table and picked up a cleaver, slamming it down with frightening force and splitting the apple in half. She held up the halves, and it was immediately apparent that instead of smooth white flesh, the apple was orange and segmented on the inside.
“See?” she said. “It’s an apple on the outside, but an orange on the inside! Now you really can compare the two!” She laughed manically.
“Congratulations, Apps,” said Scootaloo, lifting a nearly empty bottle of butterbeer in a toast. “You’ve sinned against nature. Again.”
“Applebloom,” said Sweetie Belle, calmly, “you do know you need to open the windows when you’re making potions, right? The fumes aren’t good for you.”
“The fumes make me strong! Windows are a communist plot! I have papers that prove it! There were wizards and aliens and- -”
Sweetie Belle picked up one of the aplorange halves with her magic and tossed it gently against Applebloom’s forehead.
“Ow,” she said, rubbing the spot of the mild impact. “Oh…I went over the top again, didn’t I?”
“Eh,” said Scootaloo. “I’ve seen worse.”
Applebloom blinked, and noticed that Sweetie Belle was wearing a necklace.
“What is that?” she said.
“A necklace,” said Sweetie Belle.
“I can see that. I’m not stupid.”
“Well…” added Scootaloo.
Sweetie Belle poked at the necklace. It was made of a combination of silver and some kind of black-colored metal that contrasted perfectly with her astoundingly white coat. It contained several gemstones, all deep crimson. “Do you like it? Rarity just got it for me.”
“Got if for you? Doesn’t she usually make things?”
“Not everything. She found it when we went antiquing last week.”
Scootaloo shuddered violently. “Antiquing…”
“It’s…pretty?”
“It’s totally goth,” said Scootaloo. “Not quite your style, Sweetie Belle.”
“I don’t know, I like it. Maybe I’ll start wearing more black to go with it…”
“And maybe I’ll build a rocket to Zebrababwe.”
“We already did the math on that, Scootaloo,” snapped Applebloom. “With their current inflation rate, you’d never be able to afford enough fuel to get back! That, and where are we going to get that much titanium?”
“I just watched you hybridize an apple and orange for an hour and a half! I think we could- -”
“Stop the arguing!” exclaimed Sweetie Belle. “My mellow is being harshed!”
Applebloom and Scootaloo both looked at her, and then burst out laughing.
“Where in Equestria did you hear that?!” cried Applebloom, collapsing from spasms of humor. “That- -that hasn’t been a saying since Twilight’s hair was in style!”
Sweetie Belle sighed and waited for them to calm down. Once they had, she continued with what she had actually come to say. “So,” she said. “Putting that behind us. And never, ever mentioning it again. Are you two going to the show tonight?”
All the humor seemed to be sucked out of the room. “What show?” asked Scootaloo.
“The ‘Still Repentant but now Largely Reformed Trixie’s Demonstration of Various Manifold Magical Acts it’s a Working Title Get Off my Back’,” said Sweetie Belle, having to take a deep breath immediately after finishing the statement. “Because I am, and I was wondering if you two wanted to come.”
“I don’t know,” said Applebloom, frowning. “I don’t really like Trixie. She’s mean and weird…and she lives in a trailer.”
Sweetie Belle raised one eyebrow. “And just how many of your family live in a trailer.”
Applebloom was about to protest, but her expression fell. “Almost all of them…” she admitted. “But it’s not just one trailer anymore! Uncle Road got an addition after the flood washed it into his yard!”
“I’ll go,” said Scootaloo, shrugging. “My only plan for today was to sit here and get butter-battered. Besides, it’s always fun to see Snips and Snails totally geek out over her. I’ll bet you five bits they’re cosplaying as her.”
“They’re not cosplaying as Trixie. That would be ridiculous.” Sweetie Belle turned back to Applebloom. “So, are you up for it?”
Applebloom sighed. “Yeah…but if she tries to turn me into a stallion, I’m a gonna run.”
“I don’t think I’d mind that,” said Scootaloo. “I think I’d look good as a dude.”
“You’d be Tender Taps, Scoots. We all know it.”
Scootaloo sighed. “Yeah…and it would probably make my relationship with Rainbow Dash even more awkward than it already is.”
“Nobody’s going to turn you into a dude. That spell’s actually really hard. Trust me,” said Sweetie Belle. “Trixie can’t do any real magic. It is absolutely impossible for something to go wrong...”
A crowd was already gathering as Sweetie Belle and her friends approached the stage that Trixie had set up from her hobo house.
“I don’t know why you’re so interested in this,” said Applebloom. “I mean, it’s just fireworks and stuff. They’re a might shiny, but not really, you know, substantial.”
“It’s better when you know the spells,” said Sweetie Belle. “I like trying to figure out exactly what she’s doing, and with Trixie’ it’s not hard.”
“So your lessons with Twilight are going good, then?” asked Scootaloo, trying to avoid being stepped on by the ponies who were substantially taller than her.
“Excellent, actually. Especially with Starlight.”
“Starlight? You mean the mare who stole and bottled all those cutie marks like some kind of fresh jam?”
“Alegedly bottled,” said Sweetie Belle. “And she’s actually a really good teacher. Twilight knows all the books…literally. I’m pretty sure she memorizes them. And then talks at you. Starlight, though, she just has a way of showing you how to do it.”
“Not to mention she has enough magic to power a small starship,” added Scootaloo.
“We already went over this, we’re NOT building the rocket!” Applebloom continued with her initial conversation. “It just makes me uncomfortable…the fact that she STOLE cutie marks? AND hangs out with Trixie? It makes my skin crawl.”
“That might be the acariasis,” said Scootaloo. “I had that last month. Rainbow Dash bathed me in mayonnaise…I probably liked that a little bit more than I should have…”
“Oh, we’re here!” cried Sweetie Belle, rushing forward through the crowd to get to the front. As she pushed past the various ponies of Ponyville, she saw that Snips and Snails- -both already in the front row- -had, in fact, dyed themselves blue and were wearing silver wigs.
“Ha!” said Scootaloo. “You owe me five bits! More butterbeer for Scootaloo! Yisss!”
“We all know you’re going to spend it on mayonnaise,” muttered Applebloom.
Sweetie Belle was not paying attention, though. Starlight was already stepping out onto the stage, dressed in her extremely tight magician’s assistant outfit. All eyes were on her- -some viewing with exceptional vigor- -as she addressed the crowd.
“Lady’s and gentlecolts!” she said, her voice magically amplified. “Presenting, for your viewing pleasure, for your shock and amazement, the greatest and most powerful pony to walk Equestria short of Celestia herself- -the Magical Trixie!”
There was a somewhat deafening explosion as a smoke bomb exploded in the center of the stage, and Trixie appeared out of it in a flash of light. It was certainly a dramatic entrance, but Sweetie Belle was watching closely. There was no actual magic; just a smoke bomb and a small magnesium flare. The entrance was effective, though, and Trixie managed to get at least half of the crowd’s eyes off of Starlight.
“Behold!” called Trixie, her starry cape and hat fluttering in an artificial breeze. “The Great and Powerful Trrrrixie!”
The space around her erupted with the crackling multicolored magic, a minor fireworks show of whirling shapes and colors.
“Oh wow,” said Applebloom. “That sure is pretty! Way better than last time! I’m actually impressed!”
“Eh,” said Sweetie Belle. “It’s an optic diffraction motivated by a linear telekinetic field. She didn’t even use a fractal motivation scheme. It’s basic.”
On the stage, Trixie frowned and glared at Sweetie Belle. “There appear to be some doubters in the audience tonight,” said Trixie, sounding more than slightly annoyed. “No matter! The Great and Powerful Trixie always delivers!”
She took a step back, and her magic surrounded her. The area seemed to darken, but Sweetie Belle noticed that it was actually just a byproduct of Starlight manipulating the spotlights that lit the stage. This time, instead of forming sparklers and random bursts of energy, Trixie formed the energy around herself. This was actually mildly impressive- -until Sweetie Belle understood the trick.
The mass of magic condensed and formed itself into a slightly washed-out image of an ursa minor. The crowd gasped, and some backed away in fright. The trio of flower ponies who owned the florist shop fainted as the construct took a step forward and growled. Snips and Snails watched with their eyes as wide as saucers and the jaws more slacked than normal.
“Sweetie Belle,” squeaked Applebloom.
“A noncondensed polarized construct,” said Sweetie Belle. “And at that size? It’s probably not even hard.” Sweetie Belle focused her own magic and a translucent blue butterfly shot out of her horn. It fluttered up to the ursa minor and sat on its nose, causing it to sneeze. The sneezing, of course, was a nice touch- -but doing it caused Trixie to lose concentration and for her construct to collapse.
“See?” said Sweetie Belle.
Trixie smiled. “A butterfly? Indeed impressive.”
“But not as impressive as Trixie,” said a second Trixie, suddenly standing beside Sweetie Belle and putting her elbow on the filly’s back. Upon seeing Trixie duplicated, the crowd nearly jumped out of their skin and cheered. Trixie performed a twirl and struck the duplicate with her magic, causing the surface image to dissipate- -and revealing the fact that it was, in fact, Starlight.
“Come on, Sweetie,” said Starlight, leaning in and whispering. “Don’t be rude. Trixie’s been rehearsing this for months.”
Sweetie Belle, however, suddenly shimmered. Her white coat vanished, replaced with orange- -and Scootaloo shivered as the holographic coating over her body dissipated. “Ugh,” she said. “Why did I just have the strongest possible urge to crochet?”
“And that was the so-called ‘miss-matching-mask spell’,” said Sweetie Belle, reclining on Derpy’s back as Derpy derped with extreme prejudice. “That one, actually, is impressive.”
“Come on, Sweetie Belle,” said Starlight, somewhat more harshly. “I will throw you out if I have to. And I am more than capable of teleporting you to YakYakistan.”
“Oh no,” said Trixie. “The Great and Powerful Trixie thrives on competition…this is going to be good.”
Like a true showpony, Trixie immediately worked Sweetie Belle into the act. The audience seemed to eat it up, watching the two ‘duel’ with one another as they repeatedly tried to outdo each other. Sweetie Belle quickly found that it was not easy. Trixie was actually far better at performing magic than she had expected, utilizing many spells that Sweetie Belle thought that only Starlight could perform effectively. That, and Trixie was of course better at making hers showy- -even though Sweetie Belle’s were more technically accurate.
All the while, though, Trixie seemed to be getting more aggressive and angry. She clearly did not like even the thought of being upstaged, though. The more Trixie got upset, the more her magic became stronger- -but the more Sweetie Belle noticed that something was not quite right. When Trixie would try to add flourishes to her own spells, a seam would become apparent- -an indication that her magic was actually more often than not being assisted by an external force.
“Well,” said Trixie, finally stepping back. “You’re actually pretty good. For a filly.”
“And you’re pretty good…for an old mare.”
“The Great and Powerful Trixie is not OLD! She is young and svelte and definitely NOT slightly overweight and developing gray hair!”
“I’d review the last one,” chuckled Sweetie Belle.
Trixie smiled deviously. “Well, then, I suppose if you’re going to try to steal Trixie’s spotlight, she’s going to have to…punish you.”
“Really? With what? Some red-and-blue sparks?”
Trixie stepped forward to the very edge of the stage. “Oh no. The Great and Powerful Trixie is going to perform her greatest and most powerful spell yet! But first she needs a volunteer! A Pegasus!”
“Ooh ooh!” cried Rainbow Dash. She shot up from the ground, pulling another much more pastel pony from the group. “Take her! Take HER!”
“Rainbow Dash, no!” squealed Fluttershy. “I can’t- -put me down! Too high!”
Rainbow Dash hardly listened, though, and she dragged Fluttershy through the air, depositing the yellow Pegasus pony on the stage beside Trixie. Fluttershy squinted in the bright lights and immediately cowered, as she was known to do. “Please, Trixie,” she squeaked. “Just don’t turn me into a stallion…”
The crowd, however, had other ideas. Every mare- -and several stallions- -suddenly broke out into a chant.
“But-ter-SCOTCH! But-ter-SCOTCH! But-ter-SCOTCH!”
“Oh dear,” said Fluttershy, covering her head. “Not again…”
“Oh no,” said Trixie. “For this next trick, the Great and Powerful Trixie will change a unicorn into a Pegasus- -and a Pegasus into a unicorn!”
The crowd suddenly fell silent, and then gasped in awe- -before breaking into cheering and another chant.
“Flut-ter-CORN! Flut-ter-CORN!”
Over the noise and commotion, Sweetie Belle saw Starlight suddenly pull Trixie away.
“We haven’t rehearsed for that trick,” she whispered harshly. “It isn’t ready!”
“Well, we can’t leave the audience wanting! Have faith, oh faithful assistant!”
Starlight winced, but nodded. She stepped back and then began moving Sweetie Belle and Fluttershy to their positions.
“Let’s see how you do with wings instead of that nubby, blunt horn,” said Trixie in a low voice as she brushed past Sweetie Belle, flicking the younger pony in the face with her tail.
“But I like my wings,” said Fluttershy, who, despite not wanting the attention she was getting, submitted completely to Trixie’s will.
Trixie took her place at the head of rear of the stage and stamped her hoof. A number of magical symbols suddenly appeared on the stage, draw in blue magic. Runes, polygrams, and astrological mechanisms crisscrossed the wood, and Sweetie Belle immediately knew that something was wrong. Not only was this beyond her, but this was beyond Trixie- -way beyond. This was the kind of magic that only Starlight and Twilight knew.
Before she could say anything, however, Trixie began the spell. Magic rushed out of her horn and into the schematic below her. It rearranged itself, forming circles beneath each of the three ponies. Sweetie Belle immediately felt something happening. Her body felt light, and within a few seconds she was being lifted off the wooden stage. Something felt strange in her horn, and in her back. To her surprise- -and panic- -the spell was working.
Then, suddenly, something went wrong. The spell shifted in an unpredicted pattern, immediately becoming asymmetrical. Trixie, who had been portraying an air of confidence, suddenly let her façade fall and revealed the fact that she was, in fact, terrified of this level of magic. She was staring at Sweetie Belle, and Sweetie Belle looked down- -to see the gemstones in her necklace spontaneously reconfiguring. Unseen mechanisms were assembling the front section of the necklace into a cube of black metal and red stone.
A burst of red magic shot out of the necklace and contaminated the spell heavily. Sweetie Belle saw it arc across the expanse, drawn to Fluttershy. It hit her, and everything around her suddenly shifted to mixtures of orange and scarlet instead of blue. For just a moment, Sweetie Belle thought she saw something through the haze of the magic. It was Fluttershy- -but it was also not. It was pale and sickly, with glinting red eyes and sharp teeth.
Her attention was immediately drawn to the center of the triangle, though. The fragments of the spell were beginning to compensate, forming an incomplete version of a Starswirlian mechanism- -and to Sweetie Belle’s horror, it was converging with the red light to form a singularity.
Then the power of the spell suddenly became self-sustaining and increased exponentially. The uncontrollable chain reaction led to a complete destabilization, and in nearly an instant, the spell collapsed, imploding with a force so great that it pulled most of the now awe and panic struck crowd into the space it had once occupied.
It was gone in an instant, leaving only a massive and perfectly cut hole in the stage and having blackened the ponies nearest to it, including Starlight. The crowd fell aboslutly silent, and looked at the empty void where the three ponies had once stood.
They were now completely and entirely gone.
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 2: Humphrey Dinklehuegen
The door slowly creaked open.
“Wow. It sure smells in here.”
Humphrey Dinklehuegen- -or Humph as he was more commonly known to the several individuals who actually knew of his existence or bothered to care- -said the exact same thing every time he entered his home. His reaction was not out of compulsion so much as of perpetual amazement: he had no idea how his house managed to smell different- -and generally worse- -every single time he entered it.
He flicked the switch on the wall, and the lights did not come on. Surprised, he flicked the switch several more times, wondering if he had a wiring problem. Then he remembered that, as a wizard, his house was not connected to the power grid.
“Oh,” he said, saddened. He closed the door behind him and let the whole front area of his house fall dark. It was nearing nightfall, but more importantly, it was Britain, and as such was perpetually cloudy. This left Humph in the dark most of the time.
The first thing he did in this darkness was to take off his trousers. He then took a step forward- -and promptly tripped over his wire-spool coffee table. This resulted in a great crash as he knocked the piles of mail off of it and fell to the ground, swearing with various British curses that were probably unintelligible everywhere else in the world.
“Stupid bloody coffee table! I don’t even like coffee! I would turn you into firewood if my fireplace wasn’t already filled with old tires and that one gnome- -you know what?” He whipped out his wand. “That’s the last time you trip me! REDUCIO!”
A bolt of violet light shot out of the tip of his wand, striking the wire spool. It shuddered, and then grew at least thirty percent. Humph almost panicked, but then it promptly shrunk down to the size of a tater tot.
“Ha! Take that, spool! Humph is victorious!” He paused. “And…no longer has a table. Darn it.”
Slightly saddened by this turn of events, Humph stood up and fumbled his way around the room, finding the various torches that he left sitting on his various pieces of second-hand furniture, flicking each one on as he went. Within several minutes, the room was filled with various spots of bright light.
Humph sighed, and then sat down on his couch. He stopped, holding his arms out as the internal architecture of the seat creaked and gowned, shaking and vibrating with the strain of his butt. Humph was by no means fat, but he was pretty sure that the innards of the couch were made of wicker, the worst possible structural element for just about anything.
The couch stabilized, though, and leaned forward, emptying out a small burlap sack. Several smartphones tumbled out onto the floor. Normally, Humph would have placed these on his wire-spool, but it was indisposed at the moment meaning that he had to use the worn hardwood floor instead. Once they were out, he turned them over, observing the various notes tied around them indicating their owners and their extensively shattered screens.
He pointed his wand at each of them. “Reparo, reparo, reparo, reparo, reparo dinero- -” The last one burst into flames with a small explosion, and Humph watched it burn. Then she shrugged. “Eh. Four out of five isn’t bad. Better than usual, even. And that’s like…” He counted on his fingers. “16K. In rubles, which is…” He counted again. “One hundred ninety pounds. I think. That’s some heavy cash.”
In celebration, he leaned back on the badly stained couch. It creaked again, but once again did not fall. Even if it did, it was not as though it cost anything. He had gotten it from the dump. Apparently, it had once been to Hogwarts. From the smell of it, it had probably belonged to the Hufflepuffs. Which, of course, meant that the couch had more magical training than Humph ever would.
Humph waved his wand in the air. There was a small burst of energy, and a leek appeared. It dropped into his hand, and he sat in the near-darkness as he ate it, trying to remember the spell to get his coffee table back to its right and proper size.
Once he decided he did not know, Humph stood up and finished his leek. He then walked over to the back hall of his rather crooked and unleveled home and entered his study. This area of his home was actually well lit, with all of the light coming from a quartz jar hung from the ceiling. It contained a writhing mass of living fiendfyre, something he had accidentally conjured while he had been attempting to create a spell to summon bootleg maple syrup. It was not happy to see him- -it was never happy to see anything. And if the jar ever broke, Humph would probably be burnt to a crisp along with half of England. It made light, though, and he had never quite figured out what to do with it apart from keep it as a pet.
Sitting down at his desk, Humph opened one of the many used textbooks that littered his office and got to work on his rack of potion-making equipment. He flipped through the pages of the textbook he was using. He had several, but this particular one was the best. It had apparently once belonged to someone named “Goyle” who barely had the coherence to write his own name without putting the “G” backward. It was torn in places and filled with every manner of stain- -including one that Humph hoped was a crushed chocolate frog wedged somewhere in the eighth chapter.
It was better than the “Prince” copy, though. Someone had written in all the margins there with highly impractical and pretentious modifications to the recipes and equipment. Humph had barely been able to cobble together a proper distillation apparatus from rusted muggle car parts, let alone afford an actual cauldron. The Goyle copy was far more practical for his use.
“Let’s see,” he said. “Six months to brew…well that’s a fat NOPE.” He looked up at the equipment which had been running all day. “If I purposefully contaminate the main line with bacteria, I can accelerate the fermentation process. And the sixth and twelfth distillations steps aren’t necessary…and I can probably replace filtered tincture of thyme with pickle juice.” He picked up a half-drank bottle of pickle juice, drank half of it, and then poured it into the top of the reflux apparatus on the machine. It smoked wildly and released a choking gas.
“Should make a smell like fresh raspberries…no, but close enough. Might have been phosgene. Oh well.” He turned the stopcock at the end of the device and let out the prepared potion. It dripped slowly, but eventually collected in the small glass container. Humph held it up to the light of his pet fyre. “The book says it should also be a clear to golden color…and this is cloudy green.” He shrugged. “Eh. I’m ninety three percent sure this is proper Felix Felicis. This time. Gonna turn my ‘L’ up to 10.” He popped the cap off the container and swallowed the contents.
“Hmm,” he said, grimacing. “Tastes like…somebody stored cosmoline in an old boot. With a hint of…mint.” His eyes widened as his stomach gurgled. “Yep…I just poisoned myself. Again.”
What came next was a blur. Humph felt himself sprinting through his house and out his back door, nearly slipping on the uneven and crumbling stone step as he entered his backyard. He ran through his mandrake patch, desperately trying to hold the potion in long enough to get past the rock wall that bordered his back yard proper with the forest beyond.
Eventually he made his way through the twilight and to somewhat secluded spot on the edge of the forest. When he finally deemed the spot suitable, he began to produce a technicolor yawn of the most intriguing of colors.
This lasted for some time, and Humph finally stopped retching.
“I knew…owww…that I should have skipped the THIRD distillation step…”
Almost as soon as he had said this, a resounding explosion echoed through the forest. There was a brilliant flash of blue light, and Humph felt something land on his back, flattening him to the ground.
“Huh- -what- -who?” cried an unfamiliar female voice. “I’m- -I’m alive! HA! The Great and Poweful Trixie is indeed great and powerful! See?”
“SEE?” cried a much smaller but equally female voice. “Do you have any idea- -a STARSWIRLIAN MECHANISM- -that spell- -do you have any idea- -”
“Oh rellllax,” said the first voice.
“I’m trying,” said a very soft third voice. “But I’m having a hard time. On account of the intense and soul-shattering terror.”
“You can trust the Great and Powerful Trixie. She knows what she is doing.”
“It wasn’t even your spell!” cried the youngest voice. “That was Starlight’s magic and you know it!”
There was a gasp. “How dare you accuse Trixie of- -”
“And STOP reffering to yourself in the third person! It’s REALLY annoying! You’re just lucky I still have my horn or I’d- -”
“You mean that little nub? Trust me, you would hardly even notice if you were missing it.”
“MY HORN IS AN AGE APPROPRIATE SIZE!”
“Trixie’s horn was at least twice as long and hard at your age.”
“Um…I hate to disrupt your horn measuring contest,” said the soft voice, sounding completely sincere, “but…did one of you…you know…spill your oats?”
“Um…no,” said the first voice. “Not this time.”
“Me neither,” said the other. “But I think I am sitting on something…”
Humph sat up, reaching behind him and removing something soft from his back. Confused and still bleary from having drank an extremely spoiled potion, he blinked and looked down at the small animal he was holding. He quickly realized that his hands were beneath the forelegs of a small white unicorn.
“Oh,” she said. “Hey.”
Hump looked over his shoulder. There was another unicorn behind him, a blue one wearing a cape and a hat. There was a third that was pale yellow in color who was looking up at Humph with terrified blue eyes.
A pair of extremely high-pitched girly screams tore through the late evening. One came from the yellow small horse, and the other form Humph. He tossed the white unicorn over his shoulder and dove head-first into a conveniently placed nearby hedgerow. Only after he dove in did he realize that “hedgerow” was basically French for “rocky thing overgrown with lots and lots of roses”.
“ACK! THORNS! This was a bad idea! BAD IDEA!” The situation only got worse from there. Something began to tug at his feet. “NUUU! NO WANT! NO WANT! This is worse, WORSE I TELL YOU WORSE!!”
He could not resist being pulled out of the shrubbery, though. He writhed and tried to escape, only to find that his legs were covered in some kind of blue gelatinous substance projected from the blue unicorn’s horn.
“Wow. It sure is ugly,” said Trixie, grimacing.
“For once I agree with you,” said the white unicorn, rubbing her rump from where she had been thrown. “And it smells really funny…”
Humph curled into a ball and started rocking. “It happened…it finally happened…”
“What happened?” asked the pale yellow horse, poking her head out from behind the blue one. “Is something…something wrong?”
“I died,” wept Humph. “I’m dead! I poisoned myself, and I died!”
Trixie smirked. “You mean because Trixie looks like an angel, you think you’ve gone to heaven? Yes, this praise is indeed worthy of Trixie.”
“Heaven? No! I went to the other place!”
Trixie looked shocked, and the white pony snorted as she tried to suppress laughter. “The…the other place?”
“YES! I’ve died, and now all the women are horses, and it makes me feel confusing feelings about myself that I’d rather not know about! I’ve never even got to kiss a girl- -and now- -now I’m going to have to kiss a HORSE!” He started balling.
“Well, you’re certainly not going to be kissing me,” said Trixie. “And calling me a horse is a little insulting…”
“Aww,” said Fluttershy, her sympathy immediately overcoming her fear. She stepped forward, and Humph nearly dove back into the shrubs behind him. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You’re…you’re not?”
“Oh no. I would never hurt a helpless animal. Or…you.” She sat on her haunches and spread her front legs in the air. “Do you need a hug? Hugs make everything better.”
Humph leapt forward and squeezed so hard that Fluttershy audibly squeaked. She still managed to hug back, though, if only weakly.
“I’m so sorry, tiny horse! I didn’t mean to kill myself! I’m sorry! You smell like cat pee!”
“Um, side note,” said the white unicorn. “You’re not dead.”
“I’m…not?”
“No. But with as hard as you just squeezed Fluttershy…”
“I’m…okay,” she wheezed in response.
“I’m…I’m alive? I’m alive. I’m ALIVE!” Humph stood up suddenly, cheering for his newfound lack of decesement. “I’m alive! Thank you tiny horses, I’m alive! And...pantsless.”
“Eh,” said the white unicorn. “We’re all naked, so it’s not that big of a problem.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Trixie. “Trixie is wearing a hat and a cape.”
“Fluttershy, any clue what he is?”
“Um…no. I’ve never seen anything like him before.”
“I am Humph,” said Humph.
“A hump?” said Trixie. “That makes Trixie even more uncomfortable.”
“No. H-U-M-P-H. With a silent –H.”
“So, Hump.”
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“I’ve never seen a hump before.”
“There’s a speed hump outside of the schoolhouse. It’s nearly offed Scootaloo, like, seventy times. I try to tell her that that’s not what the ‘speed’ in ‘speed hump’ means, but she never listens to me.”
“No, you don’t understand,” said Humph. “My name is Humph. I’m a wizard.”
“A wizard?” said Trixie, her eyes lighting up. “What a coincidence. I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, am also a wizard- -”
“No you’re not!” said the white pony. “You can’t even do simple tricks without Starlight holding at least two of your hooves! TWO!”
“I beg to differ. I performed excellently for years until that bit- -”
“Fluttershy,” said Fluttershy, stepping forward. She raised a hoof, and Humph took it.
“Pleased to meet you, Fluttershy.
“Sweetie Belle,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Trixie,” said Trixie. Then, catching herself: “I mean the Great and Powerful Trixie!”
Humph giggled. “You all have funny names.”
“Oh, yeah. Says the guy named Hump.”’
“There’s a silent H in it! Oh well.” Humph spread out his arms. “Okay. You might as well get it over with.”
“Get what over with?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Eating me. That’s what you’re here for, right? Go ahead. I know I deserve it. I’m probably pretty tasty, too.”
“We’re not going to eat you! Why would you even think that?!”
“Well…” muttered Fluttershy. “I was thinking of taking just one bite. Just a little one.” The others glared at her. “What? He smells like leeks. And I’m hungry.”
“I can get more leeks if you want them,” said Humph. “And I have an ornery gnome, if that’s something tiny horses eat.”
“Ponies,” corrected Sweetie Belle. “We’re ponies.”
“And unicorns.”
“I’m not,” said Fluttershy, raising a hoof. Humph knelt down and pushed her hair back.
“I see,” he said. “You’re a hornless unicorn.”
“No,” said Fluttershy, spreading her wings. “I’m a Pegasus.”
“Wings? Horse-feathers!”
“Literally.”
“Well, that’s just weird. And ridiculous. But, hey, there’s a strong possibility that I am just hallucinating madly. I mean, unicorns can’t talk.”
“I only know one unicorn who can’t talk,” noted Sweetie Belle. “That weird albino who hangs out with Octavia…”
“Don’t know what that means,” said Humph, pointing. Then, almost at random, he started walking. The ponies looked at each other, and then followed him. Mainly because they did not have much else to do.
“Mind the mandrakes,” said Humph.
“Mandrakes? Are they edible?” asked Sweetie Belle, salivating slightly.
“Dunno. Probably. They were supposed to be beets. I think Ivan gave me the wrong seeds…”
The ponies came into view of Humph’s house, and Trixie stopped. She looked up at the crooked, poorly made and slightly mossy brick structure and stuck her tongue out.
“Please tell me this is an outhouse or something.”
“No, the outhouse is there,” said Humph, pointing. “I moved it out because…well…reasons. This is the in house.” He pulled on the door and it came off the hinges. “Oop. I’ll glue that later. Probably.” He paused at the door.
“What is it?” asked Fluttershy.
“I just realized. I have hardwood floors. Your hooves are probably going to scratch it real bad.”
“No they’re not.”
“Really? Three horses clip-clopping in my house?”
Fluttershy spread her wings and took flight, hovering level with Humph’s face. “But look how soft my hooves are!” She poked Humph in the face. Then poked him again. And again.
“That is a soft hoof,” he admitted. “And it’s weird that it’s the same color as your weird horse fur. Usually unicorn hooves are gold colored.”
“Not a unicorn.”
“My sister sometimes has golden hooves,” said Sweetie Belle, “but usually only when she makes them out of edible dust. I say usually because, well…I’ve eaten more than a few boots.”
“Really?” said Humph. “So have I. They make great broth.” He turned toward his house. “Alrighty, then. Soft hooves are okay. Just don’t slip. I’d hate for one of you to break a leg. I don’t know horses too well, but I know there’s usually only one treatment for that.”
“There is?” said Sweetie Belle. “What is it?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” said Fluttershy. She landed and followed Humph into the house. It was actually unusually dark, and smelled strange.
“And…light,” said Sweetie Belle, igniting her horn and producing a blue glow throughout the room.
“I can do that too!” Trixie lit her own horn, also filling the room with light.
“So can I!” Humph drew his wand. “Lumos!” A jet of flame shot out of his wand and lit something on fire. The ponies jumped back and stared at him. “That’s weird,” he said. “The fire almost never goes out of that end…” He shrugged, and then pointed the wand at his crotch. A pair of camouflage shorts appeared. “Magic pants,” he said. “Now who wants a leek?” He waved the wand again and several leeks appeared, dropping onto Trixie and Fluttershy’s head.
“You can conjure pants AND food?” asked Sweetie Belle, seeming immensely interested and taking a leek.
“Pft,” said Humph. “No! You can’t conjure food! And the pants are only temporary.”
“Then where did the leeks come from?”
“There’s a muggle grocery a few miles away. I just summon them from there. Don’t know why it only works on leeks though. Except that one time I got a potato. That was a gooooood day.”
“Town?” said Fluttershy, looking nervously across the room. “What town?”
“Yes,” said Trixie. “I’ve been all over Equestria- -”
“In her hobo cart,” added Sweetie Belle.
“In my hobo cart- -I mean, Trixie’s Great and Powerful cart! But I’ve never been here. Where are we?”
“Uh…somewhere between Wigglesworth and Tosside, I think,” said Humph. “A little more north, though. Or south. I can never remember which.”
“Wigglesworth?” snorted Trixie. “That’s not a real place.”
“It is. It’s over there somewhere.” Humph pointed. “Or there…”
“I have a worm friend named Mr. Wigglesworth,” said Fluttershy.
“Really? I have a worm friend too. I don’t know his name. The doctors say he irritates my bile duct, but I just say it’s a fluke.”
Groans erupted from all three of the ponies. “But that doesn’t explain what happened,” said Trixie. “That spell was foolproof!”
“Clearly not, because you were involved,” said Sweetie Belle. She whispered loudly. “And by that, I mean you’re the fool.”
“I get it,” said Trixie, darkly. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Really? Because I saw that spell, and if you were willing to even get near that thing, you might just be touched in the horn. I mean, did you see what it did?!”
“It wasn’t supposed to do that. Starlight and I- -”
“Meaning all Starlight.”
“- -Have been working on that trick form MONTHS. It worked…on paper.”
“I’m not paper.”
“But something happened. There was…interference.”
Sweetie Belle paused. “Yeah. There was. I saw it too.” She looked down at her necklace, which was now much more narrow in shape. The gemstones had clustered into a mechanical cube in its center.
“Sweetie Belle,” said Fluttershy, “that necklace, can I see it?”
“Sure,” said Sweetie Belle, removing it only to find that it had left a mark around her neck. “Great,” she said. “The one disadvantage to having a beautiful and perfect white coat. Everything stains.”
“You should try having a silver main.”
“Not until I’m at least seventy.”
“You little- -”
“Sweetie Belle,” said Fluttershy, her unusual seriousness causing the room to almost physically chill. “Where did you get this?”
“My sister found it at a garage sale or something. I don’t know where it came from exactly.”
“Of course,” sighed Fluttershy. “Rarity picking out something because it ‘looked pretty’ with absolutely no idea of the consequences. This isn’t the first time. It won’t be the last.”
“I don’t get it,” said Sweetie Belle. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” said Fluttershy- -even though she was a terrible lier and it was highly apparent that she knew far more than she was letting on. She gave the necklace back to Sweetie Belle. “Just keep this as safe as possible, okay? It’s a very old artifact.”
“Old? How old?”
“As in it predates your species.”
Humph suddenly snorted himself awake. “Huh? What? Where did I go…” He looked around the room. “Oh. I’m still hallucinating. Hello pretty ponies.”
“Humph,” said Fluttershy, now sounding slightly more calm but still serious. “Have you ever heard of Equestria?”
“No.”
“It’s where we’re from. And from what I can tell, we are very, very far away from it.”
“Clearly. Because I’ve never seen a unicorn, let alone one who can talk. Or one with wings.”
“Not a unicorn. But that aside. Do you know a way to help us get home?”
Humph’s eyes went somewhat cloudy, and he leaned against a wall. He thought for a moment, and then replied. “Nope.”
“Well, great,” said Trixie. “That’s just great.”
“Hey,” said Sweetie Belle, picking up a tiny wooden spool from the floor. “Has somepony been sewing?”
“I’m not exactly known for being smart,” said Humph. An idea appeared to occur to him, though. “But we can talk to Sunflower! She knows all sorts of stuff!”
“Sunflower?”
“I know. Weird name. But she knows what she’s talking about, unlike me. She even went to Hogwarts, I think. Until they gave her das boot.”
“That means ‘the boat’,” pointed out Sweetie Belle.
“A wizard school for rich people. But if anyone here will know, it’s her. She’s probably still awake, too. If not, she’s about to be. Come on, let’s go!”
Author's Note
I generally imagine his name as being pronounced "Hump".
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
The region that Humph lived in was a heavily forested combination of fields and deep woods. It was extremely rural and secluded, with the houses connected only by a long dirt road. Sunflower, it seemed, lived up a large hill and far set back from the road. Her seclusion was initially frightening- -especially to Fluttershy, who would not release Trixie’s neck- -until they reached her house.
As dilapidated and mouldening as Humph’s house was, Sunflower’s was well-kept and cheerful. The house itself was large but built into the forest, a combination of stone and brightly-painted wood that made a pleasant cottage. Smoke was rising from her chimney in the cool night, and in the moonlight it was possible to see that she also had a barn at the edge of a large field in the distance.
They approached the front door, which was unusually tall and wide compared to those that had been on Humph’s house. It was also relatively high off the ground, reachable by a concrete ramp.
“Okay,” said Humph. “I’m not going to lie. Sunflower scares me. A little. And she can be mean.”
“Mean?” said Fluttershy, quivering. “How mean?”
“Oh, not that mean. Just…well, let me do the talking.”
Humph stepped up to the door, stopped, and cleared his throat. Then he proceeded to pound on the door with every limb he had as though he had suddenly entered a frantic panic.
“Sunflower! SUNFLOWER! WAKE UP!”
Almost as soon as he touched the door, the top section opened. The reason it was so large, it seemed, was because it was the type that was separated into an upper and lower component. Another human appeared, her head and torso visible through the open door. Her skin was much darker than Humph’s, and she was wearing a neat blue blouse. She did not look happy.
What Sweetie Belle noticed, however, was that two things were slightly odd about her. One was that her ears were much longer and more pointed than Humph’s were, and that she seemed unusually tall. Sweetie Belle assumed that she must have been standing on a platform on the other side of the door, perhaps to see out the upper port without opening the lower.
The sudden opening of the upper door took Humph by surprise. He was knocked in the head- -hard- -and went tumbling headfirst into the shrubs that bordered the concrete ramp, at which point he promptly disappeared into the greenery.
“Dinklehugen,” said the woman in a harsh, authoritative voice. “It’s almost a quarter to nine! If this is anything like the last time you asked me for late-night help- -”
“I told you! I had fallen into a box of produce!”
“That’s what they all say- -” Sunflower looked around the door at Humph. “What are you doing in there? Get out of my stinging nettles!”
“Nffms?” said Sweetie Belle, speaking through a mouthful of the pointy greens.
“Nettles?” squeaked Humph.
“Yes nettles, I use them for…” Sunflower paused, and for the first time seemed to notice the three ponies standing on her doorstep. “Dinklehugen,” she said, slowly, “what did you do?”
“Why would you assume I did something?”
“Because I have two unicorns and a winged…thing on my front stoop.”
“Pegasus,” said Fluttershy.
“Correction. Talking horses. On my ramp.”
“I’m just glad you can see them too. I thought I was tripping balls of prodigious diameter.”
“Oh, I can see them.” She sighed and put her hand on her forehead. “Just when I thought I could get some rest…maybe read, go to be early.” She groaned. “I guess I’m a part of this now, though. So be it.” She unlatched the lower door. “Horses. You can come in, if you want. I’ll get you tea. If Dinklehugen can extricate himself, I won’t kick him in the face if he tries to enter.”
“Thank you very much,” said Fluttershy. “It’s very kind of you.”
“Aww,” she said. “Aren’t you adorable.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” asked Trixie, suspiciously.
“I don’t know yet.”
Sunflower pushed the lower door open and turned around, walking away and leaving the ponies to enter. They started too, feeling a bit more confident and comfortable around her over the slightly off weirdo now stuck up to his ankles in a nettle bush beside them- -until they saw the part of Sunflower that was below the door.
Her human waist terminated in against the deep chestnut body of a horse. She was a centaur.
The ponies hesitated. None of them wanted to follow her, with Fluttershy shaking and looking as though she was on the verge of either all-out collapse or attempting to run.
“Are you coming in or not?” called Sunflower. “You’re letting the stupid in.”
Hesitantly, Sweetie Belle stepped forward. Trixie, not wanting to be outdone, pushed Sweetie Belle out of the way and entered first. Fluttershy remained, quivering on the front step, but Humph had by this time freed himself from the nettles. He spat out several snails, and then picked Fluttershy up.
“Come on, wingyhorse.”
“O…okay…”
The house was not actually intrinsically terrifying, though. Some elements of it were modified for centaur habitation, but for the most part, it was an ordinary dwelling that seemed to be meant for humans like Humph. The floors- -normally wood- -had been covered with a nonslip surface, and some of the doors had been enlarged to accommodate Sunflower’s stature. In all, though, it was warm, well-lit, and welcoming, if weirdly neat.
Sunflower led them farther back into the house to an area that was immediately recognizable as a combined kitchen and dining room.
“Sit,” she said, pointing at an extremely low table with several cushions around it.
Trixie and Sweetie Belle looked at each other, but then did as they were told. It took them a moment to figure out how to use the cusions, but when they finally did, they were both pleasantly surprised.
“Hey,” said Sweetie Belle, “this is actually really comfortable!”
“I know,” said Trixie. “Way better than all the wooden chairs and stools in Equestria. It’s almost as if- -”
“It were designed for someone with a horse body?” said Sunflower, who was pouring tea at her counter.
“Tea? This late at night?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“We’re all English here. It’s always time for tea.”
Humph followed them in and set a now mostly fear-stiffened Fluttershy on a cushion. He himself then sat down on one of the others. It was as awkward for him as it was comfortable for equines, and he almost seemed to be partially eaten by the soft material.
“Squishy,” he said. He sat up and picked up a book that had been hastily placed on the table. “What’s this? ‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’?” He looked up at Sunflower. “I didn’t know you were into biographies.”
“Ugh,” said Trixie. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not like nonfiction.”
“Then the ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie is an ignorant twit,” said Sunflower. “That book is excellent. Even if it does focus on those arrogant meatheaded Gryffindors.”
“Wait, what did you call Trixie?”
No one answered, and the room mostly fell silent as Sunflower finished what she was doing. Sweetie Belle noticed that Humph was somewhat more fidgety than normal, and at first she attributed this to him sitting on a cushion instead of a chair- -but then she realized that there was more to it than that.
“So,” said Humph as Sunflower. “I…um…like your tail?”
Sunflower pivoted suddenly, pressing her rear against the counter and blushing profusely. All three of the ponies looked at Humph, dumbfounded that he had just said something like that out of the blue.
“Why- -why would you say something like that?” cried Sunflower angrily.
“I was just- -I just mean- -it looks good- -”
“You DON’T say something like that!”
“She’s right,” said Trixie. “I mean, what are you, some sort of pervert?”
“I didn’t- -I’m not- -”
“Even I know you’re not supposed to just talk about a mare’s tail,” said Sweetie Belle.
“It’s just downright rude. I’m sorry,” said Fluttershy. “Why, if somepony were to talk about my tail…” She shivered.
“I don’t understand!”
“You don’t- -gah, how can you be that stupid?” said Trixie, looking as though she were about to attack. “If you’re looking at her tail, it means you’re looking at her BUTT.”
“The unicorn is right!” exclaimed Sunflower. “Why would you be looking down there? Do you have any idea what it’s like not being able to wear pants? Oh wait…of course you of all people do.”
“Wait,” said Sweetie Belle, confused. “So…butts are bad? Um…why? When Tender Taps got his cutie mark, he spent like four hours shaking it in the face of every pony he could find. He even got taken in by the town guard for it…”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” said Fluttershy.
“I’m sorry,” said Humph. “I didn’t mean to look. I mean, it’s not like your butt is bad or anything, it’s really horsey- -”
Everyone groaned. “Just keep digging, why don’t you?” muttered Trixie.
To her credit, Sunflower contained her anger well. She walked over and set the tray of tea on the table. Then she walked behind Fluttershy, snatched the book from Humph’s hand, and slapped him. It was not a trivial slap, either. It was booming, and Humph was thrown backward by the force.
“Ow!” he squealed.
“Honor restored,” said Sunflower. “I have the hindquarters of a horse, you pervert. If I catch you looking at my tail again, the next one is going to be a hoof, and you’re going to wake up in the ravine. Got that?”
“Okay. Okay…” Humph took a deep breath. “I’m neither going to look at nor mention your horse butt.”
“Good,” said Sunflower, gently lowering herself onto a cushion at the end of the table. She took a deep breath, then straightened her blouse and took a cup of tea on a saucer. She gently sipped it. As she did, the ponies started to edge away from her slightly.
“What?” she said. “It’s like you’ve never seen a centaur before.”
“No…” mumbled Fluttershy. “We have…”
“Can…I have some tea?” asked Humph.
“No. No tea for you.” Sunflower glared at Humph, and he looked supremely dejected. She sighed. “So. I was going to read my books and go to bed early tonight, but guess what? Now I can’t. I’ve got three tiny talking horses sitting around my table drinking tea, and you. Now are you going to explain why you insist on ruining my night, or are you just going to sit there and stare like the idiot you are?”
“Why are you so mean?” whined Humph. He put his head down on the table with a hollow thunk, and then lifted it up and- -within less than two minutes- -explained the entire situation at ultra-high speed. Most of it was bizarre asides about his potion making and how this was not like the last time when he had seen fluffy snakes shooting out of the ground or that one time when he really did see a flaming toad, but Sunflower did not interrupt him. She just sat there and listened attentively with a look of mild disinterest.
Trixie also attempted to give her side of the story, but it was so long winded and voluminous that Sweetie Belle was forced to summarize. Sunflower listened to them as well, and when they had finished, she took a long pause.
“Hmm,” she said at last. “This isn’t good.”
“Isn’t good?” squeaked Fluttershy. “That’s almost as bad as…bad! Oh…why is there never good news when something like this happens?”
Sunflower put down her tea. “Right. You three?” she pointed. “You’re not unicorns.”
“Well, I know Fluttershy isn’t,” said Sweetie Belle. “And Trixie is basically an earth-pony with a growth at this point, but- -”
“Not what I mean,” said Sunflower. “You are not like OUR unicorns.”
“You have unicorns?” said Humph. “I didn’t know you were into- -”
“Does your house have lead plumbing?”
“Yes.”
“Well then stop drinking the water. Idiot. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” asked Fluttershy timidly.
“I meant that you are not like the unicorns we have here. In this world.”
“This world?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Compounded with the fact that you claim to have never seen a human. They’re basically vermin, they’re everywhere. What you’re describing sounds like a transdimentional jump.”
Fluttershy sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Transdimensional jump?” said Trixie, as if she were offended. “Preposterous!” she leaned over to Sweetie Belle. “Because I totally know what that means!”
“No you don’t. But that doesn’t make it non-preposterous. If that’s a word. But transferring to a non-derivative reality without any kind of catalyst or artifact? That’s not possible. It just isn’t, not even for Starlight- -”
“The artifact is right there,” said Fluttershy, pointing at Sweetie Belle’s neck.
“I noticed that too,” said Sunflower. “That thing feels…wrong. It’s not normal.”
“It’s just a necklace….that could hijack a spell and force a compensatory Starswirlian response…” Sweetie Belle face-hooved. “Ow!”
“So can you help?” asked Humph.
“No,” said Sunflower, curtly.
“But why not?”
“Because this is WAY beyond me. It’s way beyond anyone. Crossing the boundaries of reality…it makes making a horcrux look like sneezing into a bucket. Which is actually a step in the process, if you were wondering.”
“Really?” said Humph, writing that down on a small pad.
“The point is, I can’t do anything about it.”
“Then how are we supposed to get home?” asked Trixie.
The room fell silent. No one had an answer.
“You know,” said Humph, after a moment. “If that’s all it is…”
“ALL IT IS?” cried Sweetie Belle. “I’m trapped in another reality, and I’m 11! I can barely even remember to clean my room, let alone do- -do any of this!”
“Calm down,” said Sunflower, putting her hand on Sweetie Belle’s back. Sweetie Belle promptly recoiled.
“Don’t touch me, and don’t tell me to calm down! This is the LEAST calm situation I can possibly think of!”
“I have seven hundred and eighty two less calm situations I can think of,” said Fluttershy. “This isn’t that bad.”
“What I was going to say,” said Humph, “was that I think I might know a guy.”
“A guy?” said Sunflower, raising one eyebrow. “You know a guy with experience with that level of magic?”
“Maybe…but they’ll be asleep now. Probably. We can go tomorrow.”
“Fine,” said Sunflower. “And the ponies will stay with me tonight.”
“What? No, I have more than enough room- -”
“I’m not leaving young, naïve pony women- -one of whom is a minor- -with a man named ‘Hump’. A man who, might I add, is not currently wearing any trousers.”
The ponies and Humph looked down and saw that Sunflower was right. “Wow,” said Sweetie Belle. “They really are temporary.”
“My barn is both finished and furnished,” explained Sunflower. “I know it must seem rude for me to suggest that sentient creatures like yourselves should stay in an outbuilding like common mules, but I assure you, it is quite comfortable.”
They did not protest. None of them would say what they were all thinking: that there were probably free rooms in Sunflower’s main cottage. Not one of them, though, felt comfortable with even the possibility of sleeping near a centaur. It had barely been six months since Tirac had ravaged their own land, and they could see the same glimmer in Sunflower’s yellow eyes that had been in his.
“That’s very kind of you,” said Trixie, the only one who actually seemed interested in sleeping in a barn. “Being a celebrity, I’m used to luxurious accomidations- -”
“You mean the one-room hobo cart?” added Sweetie Belle.
“Yes, and my one-room hobo car- -HEY!”
“Is it okay that I sleep naked?” said Fluttershy.
“Fluttershy,” said Sweetie Belle. “You’re naked right now. You’re a pony.”
“I’m not sleeping right now, though.”
“I sleep naked,” said Humph.
“…and that’s a thought I can’t unimagine,” said Sunflower, darkly. “Thank you very much for that.”
“Right,” said Humph, standing up. “Well, I have stuff to do. Probably.”
“What kind of stuff,” asked Sweetie Belle.
“STUFF! The kind that doesn’t involved houseguests, apparently.” He looked dejected and started walking toward the door. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well. And whatever you do, don’t look at Sunflower’s horse butt.”
Sunflower stood suddenly, but Humph was already sprinting. He exited the cottage and immediately slipped, returning to the stinging nettle patch.
“Idiot,” muttered Sunflower.
Author's Note
Why is she named "Sunflower"? I'll leave it to you find out what that's a reference to.
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
A bright sunbeam shown on Sweetie Belle’s face, and she stirred.
“Come on Rarity…I wanna sleep…” Unable to resist the light, though, Sweetie Belle eventually woke up completely. She blinked and smiled- -until she remembered where she was. “Road apples,” she swore.
For a moment, she had thought she might be back in her own bed in her own dimension. Which was not to say that the cot she had been given was uncomfortable. She had slept on worse, and the blankets were soft and smelled of lavender. Not the fake lavender, the real stuff.
Shifting her body, Sweetie Belle got out of bed. She shivered slightly; it was chillier than it had been before. Even slightly colder, though, the “barn” was far from the drafty wooden building that sat on Applebloom’s farm. It certainly was large, and superficially looked like a barn from the outside. Inside, though, it seemed to be mostly dedicated to Sunflower’s various hobbies. As Sweetie Belle exited her stall, she passed a large storage area filled with food and dried herbs, as well as a rack of perfectly labeled and organized astronometrical equipment.
“That’s a lot of sextants,” said Sweetie Belle, passing several workbenches, all organized and perfectly neat. She paused only when she saw one area where a number of scraps and fabric were present- -and where a large and ornate saddle was set on a working stand where Sunflower had apparently forgotten to put it away.
Trixie still seemed to be asleep. Weirdly, though, she was not in her bed but beside it in a pile of straw. She was hugging a large portion of the straw and smiling.
“Oh Starlight,” she said to herself, “yes, Trixie’s coat is super soft. No, I don’t mind if you touch it…”
“Oi!” yelled Sweetie Belle, striking Trixie on the flank with a weak static spell. The sound was surprisingly large, and Trixie squealed as she awoke with a start.
“What- -where- -who- -it wasn’t me! Trixie is innocent!”
“Wake up,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Awake? Trixie isn’t- -” Trixie seemed to be realizing where she was, and looked down at the straw she was holding. She groaned and then threw the ball of material at Sweetie Belle. “I was having the best dream! And this time Luna wasn’t there to make me learn ‘lessons’. Why did you wake me up?”
“Because it’s time to wake up. The sun just came up.”
“Sun- -Trixie does not wake up until at least four! PM!” Trixie rolled to the side and under her cot. She then reached out with her magic and pulled her remaining straw around her, sealing off the space beneath the bed.
Sweetie Belle shrugged. She went to the end of the barn and then outside. The air hit her, and although it was definitely cold, it felt good. The sky was still gray and everything was wet, but it was not actively raining. The grass in the outer fields looked so green and even slightly tasty.
Ignoring the grass- -Rarity said it was uncouth for ponies to eat grass- -Sweetie Belle began to sing. Her song echoed off the dew-covered trees and broke the misty silence. She continued for several minutes as she woke up, and then reduced her volume as she trotted past Sunflower’s greenhouse and outdoor gardens back toward the centaur’s house.
The song terminated with a flourish as Sweetie Belle approached the back door. She knew that centaurs were evil, but Sunflower seemed more perpetually perturbed than explicitly diabolical. Sweetie Belle was still on the fence about her, but decided that it would at least help to try to be friendly.
She knocked gently on the back door. “Sunflower? Are you awake?” She spoke loud enough to be heard, but not enough to wake her up if she was still sleeping.
There was a click of hooves behind the door, and Sweetie Belle suddenly felt nervous. She had an urge to run back to the barn, but the door opened before she could begin the sprint.
Sunflower opened the door, and Sweetie Belle froze, not out of fear but out of surprise. The somewhat terrifying centaur of the night before had been replaced with one who looked surprisingly ordinary. She was dressed not in a heavily starched blouse but a baggy T-shirt, a green and silver scarf, and a set of high socks.
“Oh, Sweetie Belle,” she said. “You’re up. I’m surprised. Usually children like to sleep in.”
“I’ve always been more of a morning person.”
“Well, come in,” said Sunflower, gesturing. “I’m making breakfast right now. I’m not really sure what you eat, but I’m assuming that you’re a vegetarian. You can help if you want.”
“That’s not the best idea,” said Sweetie Belle. “My cooking has been described as…superfund.”
Despite this, she followed Sunflower into the cottage.
“I apologize about the temperature,” said the centaur, walking to the nearby kitchen. “I don’t heat at night. It consumes too much wood, and technically, as a centaur, I could walk around naked in the middle of winter without much caring. Like the rest of them.”
“It’s fine,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Say, was that you singing a few moments ago?”
“Oh,” said Sweetie Belle. “You heard that? Yeah. It’s something I’m really passionate about. I’m actually positioning myself for a music career back in Equestria.”
“Well, with a voice like that, it should not be terribly difficult for you. It was wonderful to wake up to a sound like that, and not Dinkelhugen screaming at inanimate objects or Ivan having lit himself on fire again.”
“Ivan? Who is Ivan?”
Sunflower poked at some potatoes in a pan. “He lives over in the ravine where muggles dump trash. He’s a bit…addled? Or sozzled? Or a combination of the two. I don’t know. Just don’t go near him.”
“Noted,” said Sweetie Belle, feeling slightly nervous that a deranged weirdo worse than Humph might have been wandering the woods while she slept. “You don’t seem to like your neighbors much.”
“It’s not that I actively dislike them. Ivan mostly keeps to himself, and Dinkelhuegen spends most of his time in the muggle town. Or bothering me. They’re not ideal, let’s just say that. But it’s not like I can move.”
“Why not?”
Sunflower sighed. She leaned back from the stove and gestured toward her lower body. “Have you perhaps not noticed the horse part where I should have hips?”
“So? I’m all horse.”
“Yes, and in a society of horses, that’s fine. But what would your people think if I were to walk down your streets?”
“They’d…” They would be afraid, but Sweetie Belle did not want to say that.
“That’s right. They’d go running. Pull in their welcome mats, hide the fillies and colts. Well, guess what? Muggles would do the same if they saw me. If I were even legally allowed to go near them. And wizards…to them, I’m just a dumb animal.”
“You don’t seem like a dumb animal. You don’t look like Trixie at all.”
Sunflower did not laugh. “Yeah…”
The room fell silent, and the silence became extremely awkward. Sweetie Belle sat down and tried to find something to talk about.
“So…” she said. She noticed Sunflower’s scarf. “Is that from a sports team?”
Sunflower looked down at the scarf. “Oh…I forgot I had this on.” She took it off and folded it neatly. “But yes. I know I’m too old to be following student quidditch, but I have a soft spot for the Slytherin team.” She smiled nostalgically. “I actually tried out for it, too. I can’t fly a broom worth beans, though, and apparently beaters aren’t supposed to kneecap other players when no one is watching. They kicked me out after a week.”
“You were a student? Where?”
“You seriously- -oh. Sorry. Interdimensional unicorn. I mean Hogwarts. It’s the primary wizarding school of the United Kingdom.”
“Oh. We have something like that in Equestria. It’s really hard to get into, though.”
“I would only surmise, yes. Hogwarts is not easy to get into either. Just look at Dinklehuegen. He never went. Most wizards don’t.”
“But you did.”
“Yes. And I did spectacularly until they kicked me out.”
“You can’t have done that well if you got das boot.”
“That means ‘the boat’. And Hogwarts doesn’t give a snill’s earlobe about how well you do in classes. As soon as they found out I wasn’t human, they kicked me to the curb like the trash they claimed I was.”
“Wait- -you hid that?” Sweetie Belle pointed toward Sunflower’s horse butt. “It can’t be a very good school if they didn’t notice, you know, the nine hundred pounds of horse.”
“I only weigh eight hundred and seventy pounds, thank you very much. And that’s only because Dinklehuegen is actually slightly competent at baking. But no. I hid that aspect of myself.”
“How?”
“Polyjuice potion. Gallons of it. For almost two years. Until my genetic source, well, let’s just say ran out. I think they were kind of already getting suspicious. My wand, after all, was just a stick. Potions, astrology, divination, magical history, alchemical theory, rune translation, herbology, animal husbandry, wizardic law, I could do them all better than any human student there. Or historically, short of Granger. But not anything that required a wand.”
“But if you couldn’t do the classes- -”
“That wasn’t the problem. I could have gotten through without it. Claimed I was a squib if I had to. But a Centaur? No. Expelled.” She sighed. “The other Slytherin tried like heck to keep me, though. That’s one thing people always forget about us, we’re intensely loyal to each other. You have to be when you’re the best. They even started pulling strings with their parents, but Headmaster McGonagall’s hands were tied. Not that she even really tried. The Ministry wouldn’t let a ‘filthy non-human’ associate with their precious future drones.”
“At least you got two years.”
“Optimism. That’s new.”
“I’m not saying it was right. But you did lie to them- -”
“I did what I had to do to get what I shouldn’t have to fight to get. Trickery, manipulation, so what? There’s a reason I was put in Slytherin house.”
There was a slight commotion from outside. Sunflower leaned down and looked out the window. “Bloody…what is she doing?!”
She moved quickly, pushing past Sweetie Belle. Sweetie Belle followed her out the door and into the woods behind the house.
Outside, somepony was singing. Not in words or even notes, like Sweetie Belle had, but in bird song. Sweetie Belle looked up to see Fluttershy prancing about between the trees, laughing with a swarm of bizarre, perfectly spherical golden hummingbirds.
“By Merlin’s gravel-filled left ureter,” said Sunflower, stepping forward. “Those…those are golden snidgets!”
“Aren’t they just adorable?” said Fluttershy. “They’re so fat!” One of the birds quibbled angrily. “Oh, sorry. I mean fluffy, and quite physically fit underneath their extremely glossy and well-preened feathers.”
“But they’re nearly extinct! Especially this far north- -how did you- -”
“Oh, they were so afraid at first. Not nearly as much as I was. But they saw me training the other birds, and- -”
“Other birds?”
Fluttershy whistled. Hundreds of birds descended from the trees and onto and around her. Then, adding to them, an enormous buzzard dropped down and landed on Fluttershy’s back. It hissed angrily at Sunflower.
“Gregory!” said Fluttershy, her legs shaking from the weight of the warty and ugly bird. “There’s no need for such harsh language!” The vulture actually looked somewhat ashamed. Fluttershy turned to Sunflower and Sweetie Belle. “He just has the most darling family! We had breakfast together. I helped regurgitate it for his adorable little featherless chicks.”
“Um, eew,” said Sweetie Belle. “Seriously. EEW.”
“So I guess you won’t be having breakfast with us,” said Sunflower.
“Oh, I’d hate to be rude. I’ll be there, just in a few minutes.” The buzzard flapped its wings, and began to carry Fluttershy off. Her cloud of small spherical snidgets followed her as she was removed.
“Um…okay,” said Sunflower. She looked down at Sweetie Belle. “Is that…normal?”
“Not at all,” said Sweetie Belle. “Not at all…”
With breakfast eaten, the three ponies made their way back to Humph’s house. The walk was not especially grueling, but it was long, and being filled with Sunflower’s unusually delicious cooking- -or in Fluttershy’s case, whatever it was that vultures ate- -the sun was already mostly up by the time they reached the house.
“It looks even worse during the day,” bemoaned Trixie.
“Dilapidated. Yes,” said Sweetie Belle. “And what kind of a weirdo lives in a house way out on the outskirts of town?”
“Ahem,” said Fluttershy.
“I think that answers your question,” said Trixie. She yawned. “Can we hurry this up? Trixie needs her beauty sleep.”
“She needs a LOT of it, clearly,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Indeed, she does- -HEY!”
When they reached the house, though, Humph did not answer his door. Confused, the ponies made their way to the rear. At first, they did not see anything- -but then a shout echoed through the midmorning quiet.
“COME BACK HERE YOU SO I CAN SWAT YOU!”
Almost as soon as Humph yelled, a large number of rotund, hairy rodent creatures jumped out of his garden and started sprinting awkwardly across the ground, their long pale locks trailing behind them as they waddled.
Humph leapt up on the other side of the garden, standing on his rock wall and waving a flyswatter, his eyes wild with rage. “Get out of my garden!” He leapt down, chasing the creatures away from his precious mandrakes.
Almost as soon as he did, Fluttershy shot up into his face. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she demanded.
“I’m flushing the haggis out of my garden! Look what they did to the foliage, and my roses!”
Sweetie Belle looked to where he was pointing. “Um…that’s silverleaf nightshade.”
“Well that explains why the rose hips tasted so…toxic.”
“That doesn’t give you an excuse to chase these adorable little creatures!” Fluttershy picked one of the fleeing things up, and then recoiled. “Smelly creatures!”
“I know. Those are haggis. They’re what haggis is made out of. And come on, what damage am I going to do with this?” Humph raised the fly swatter.
“You’re scaring them half to death! You could try to be a little nicer!”
Humph sighed. “Nicer? You want to see what happens if I try to be nice? Fine.” He threw down his flyswatter and stepped into the middle of the garden. “Oi, haggis!” he said, spreading his arms. “Would you please leave my mandrakes alone?”
The haggis looked up at him, then at each other, and then up at him again. Without warning, they all leapt on him, tackling him to the ground.
“EEEEEEPPP!” he screamed several octaves higher than even Sweetie Belle could manage. “They’re touching me they’re TOUCHING ME!!”
“No, little haggis, please,” said Fluttershy. They were not listening. “Please don’t- -now listen- -I don’t want to be assertive unless I absolutely have to.” The haggis still did not respond. “HAGGIS!” cried Fluttershy. They stopped devouring Humph and stared at her. She spread her eyes wide, and the haggis immediately became stupefied and dropped off.
Humph sat up. He was covered in scratches but largely unharmed. “What did you do?”
“Oh my… I believe I may have used the Stare…”
“Are you done using it yet?” asked Sweetie Belle, her eyes covered. She lowered her hoof, and realizing that Trixie was rather stiff looking, poked her. Trixie fell over, completely stupefied like the rodents.
It took nearly half an hour to carry out and stack the frozen haggis at a distance, and to unthaw Trixie. After that, Humph fetched some new clothing form inside his house and led the trio of ponies to his garage. When he threw it open, the ponies gawked.
“Have you ever cleaned this?” said Sweetie Belle. “In like, a century?”
“No,” said Humph as a spider the size of a cat squirmed out of the garage, causing Trixie to scream and jump and Fluttershy to coo as it crawled up onto her head.
“Hold on,” said Humph, stepping into the mass of dusty junk. “I just got to…ow- -wait! No- -eew, how old is that…when did I get a washing machine? Oh, there it is…nope MOVING! Oh, okay, there.”
The entire contents of the garage collapsed, and Humph was pushed out. He stood up, holding an extremely dust and worn push broom out in front of him. “Tada!”
“A broom? Are we going to sweep?”
“I think it’s clear that he doesn’t do that,” said Trixie, still cowering from the large spider on Fluttershy’s head that was beginning to lay eggs.
“This isn’t a sweeping broom…I think. It’s a flying broom!”
“Flying broom,” said Sweetie Belle. “Seriously? You actually expect me to believe that?”
“Oh, come on,” said Humph, straddling the broom. “The Chief Broomden is a classic broom model! And so sturdy! And it can even go three knots in a five knot tailwind!”
“What’s a knot?” asked Fluttershy.
“I don’t know! Isn’t it great?” Humph kicked his foot, and the broom released a thundering clatter. A plume of dust came from its worn bristles, and it lifted off the ground slightly. “Come on! It’s broomtastick!”
Sweetie Belle looked at the others, and then got on. “Whoa!” she said, grabbing onto Humph’s back. “It’s vibrating! That is a WEIRD feeling!”
“I know, right?”
“Is that…is that really necessary?” said Fluttershy, looking at the broom suspiciously. “Can’t we walk? Or do something…safer? And less terrifying?”
“Well, I would, but I ate all my floo powder. So no.”
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 5: Knockturn Alley
The broom sputtered and dropped. It was losing altitude, and there was not much Humph could do to slow it. He was not a mechanic by any means and had more comprehension of how air conditioners worked than how brooms operate, and trying to charge it with his wand had only resulted in uneven idling.
Fortunately, he was already overhead of his destination and began to lower the broom into a side alley, striking several trashcans as he landed before the broom’s braking mechanism kicked in and threw him over the front and into a puddle.
“Smooth,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Thanks. I practice. Why, if I had actually been rich enough to attend Hogwarts, I’d probably have been a seeker. Because I’m that good. And now quite damp as well.”
Sweetie Belle and Trixie got off the broom. Sweetie Belle nearly collapsed, and Trixie began to stagger across the wet cobblestones.
“Whoa…Trixie feels like her parts are misaligned…”
“The last time I’ve been vibrated that much was…I’ve never been vibrated that much!” said Sweetie Belle. “How do you not get saddle sores from that?”
“Buns of steel,” said Humph, still lying in a puddle. “Only way to ride a broom.”
Fluttershy had not left the broom. She was still clinging to it, hanging beneath it and trembling as she cried quietly.
“Fluttershy,” said Sweetie Belle. “You can get off now.”
“Too…high…” she squeaked. “To high!”
“You do realize you’re a Pegasus, right?” said Trixie. “I mean, didn’t you grow up in Cloudsdale or something? In the SKY?”
Fluttershy opened her eyes and looked at her wings. “Oh. Yeah.”
She slowly got off, and Humph pulled himself out of the puddle.
“Aren’t you going to lock it up or something?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“No,” said Humph, as though he had never considered that. “I’ve never had to before. Nobody’s ever tried to steal it.”
“I wonder why,” muttered Trixie.
Humph just shrugged and walked to the end of the alley. The ponies followed, having a minor amount of trouble walking across the cobblestones without slipping. Not much in the human world seemed to be designed for hooves.
“And there we have it!” said Humph, emerging from the minor alley into what could only be described as yet another alley.
Sweetie Belle looked up at it, and was astounded that the world could get any drearier than it already was. It was late in the afternoon, but here it seemed to be almost night. Uneven, dark, stained buildings stretched up and out over the street, blocking out the dingy gray sky overhead. Most of them seemed ominous and threatening just by virtue of their imposing structure. On the street below, a number of hooded and cloaked figures limped and stumbled about the uneven streets.
“What. The. Literal. Hay,” said Trixie. “This place is a dump!”
“A dump? This is Knockturn Alley! The greatest congregation of wizarding shops in all of Britain!”
“Well,” said Fluttershy, “I’m going back on the broom…”
Sweetie Belle grabbed her tail with magic, preventing her from leaving. “And why exactly are we here?” she asked, pulling Fluttershy along with her.
“You’ll see,” said Humph, stepping out into the alleyway proper.
“Is it safe?”
“Safe? Of course it’s safe! Nobody here would ever even try to hurt you!”
A hulking cloaked mass shambled by, its body completely concealed but releasing a number of groans and clicks that made it sound like some kind of massive insect.
“Except him,” said Humph, pulling Trixie out of the way. “Or…them. Don’t mess with them.”
Completely ignoring the question of what exactly had just passed them- -or why it seemed to be trailing a viscous fluid- -Humph strode down the street. Trixie followed, and then Sweetie Belle did. As soon as Fluttershy realized that she was alone, she burst into tears and chased after them.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie actually has a great deal of experience in places like this,” said Trixie, falling in step with Humph.
“We all know your track record with magical artifacts,” said Sweetie Belle.
“And I apologized for that!”
“You enslaved two children and forced them to pull a cart with no wheels.”
“They enjoyed it! And wheels cannot be trusted!”
“It’s true,” said Humph. “I once knew a guy. He was a wheel, he could roll and could feel, but no one could stop him turning.” Humph stopped and looked around. “Now…where am I?”
“You don’t know?” Trixie did not seem happy about that fact.
“I know generally, but this place tends to shift slightly. Sometimes stores get misplaced. Oh, hey! There’s Borgin and Burkes!”
Sweetie Belle looked over her shoulder at a shady door with thick, dark-brown windows and a molding sign. “Is that where we’re going?”
“Oh no, that’s just a store. But they always have the coolest stuff. I can’t afford any of it. Actually, Ivan did want me to get him a Toe of Glory. Maybe just a…” he stopped himself. “No. Not right now. Busy.”
He turned on his heal and walked past a witch who was looking up at what appeared to be nothing in particular, mumbling to herself. Sweetie Belle backed away from the strange woman, wondering how Humph did not at all seem to notice the intrinsic threatening nature of this place. She supposed he was either extremely brave, extremely jaded, or extremely thick. By this point, she was leaning toward the third option.
Eventually, Humph led them to another dingy, narrow building. This one was set slightly off from the path and was decorated by a number of vases or urns set just outside it. The sign said “Moribund’s”. Sweetie Belle watched as a young wizard with a dark cloak and a green scarf approached, turned the handle, and, upon finding it locked, left.
“I think it’s locked,” said Trixie, looking through one of its thick windows at an orange light far back in the shop as Humph walked up the steps toward the door.
“Of course it’s locked,” said Humph. “Almost everything here is locked, even when its open.”
“That’s kind of stupid. No. That is actually fully stupid.”
“No it isn’t,” said Humph. “A lot of these places sell some pretty heavy-duty stuff. If just anyone could walk in, well…in the hands of a competent wizard, half this stuff could be used to take over the world.”
“So…” said Sweetie Belle. “You can open the door because you’re not a competent wizard?”
“Of course!” Humph grasped the door handle and pushed the door open. “Hey, wait a minute- -”
Trixie pushed past him. “She’s right, you know. The only competent wizard here is Trixie!”
The inside of the shop was not much different from the outside- -gloomy and vaguely sinister. The door led into a hallway that had apparently once belonged to a house, with a set of stairs leading up into the darkness overhead right next to it. Humph ignored those- -and considering that there were a pair of luminescent eyes standing at the top of the stairs, that was an acceptable course.
Instead, he led them through the narrow and creaky hallway to a large open and windowless room. It was filled with vases and urns, all of various colors but indeterminate purpose. On the far end, behind a desk, stood a shopkeeper. He was not at all pleasant looking. His skin was jaundiced and his eyes cloudy. His jaw was partially open and drooling. Even his clothing seemed to be suffering from whatever sickness was afflicting him, and his suit was worn and dirty. He did not seem to notice their entry, but instead continued to repeatedly gouge a line in his desk with a knife.
“Oh,” said Sweetie Belle, grabbing her nose as a wall of smell hit her. “It stinks in here!”
“It smells worse than Fluttershy in here!” gasped Trixie.
“I don’t smell that bad,” said Fluttershy. Then, with eyes downcast. “No…I do. I’m sorry.”
Humph approached the shopkeeper. The man’s cloudy eyes looked up at him and he stopped gouging.
“I’m here to see the brown pottery,” he said.
The shopkeeper stared at him, drooling. Then he pointed with one long, bony finger at a door to the back room.
“Thanks,” said Humph, putting a coin down on the table. He started toward the door, and Sweetie Belle saw the shopkeeper stare at the coin, pick it up, and eat it.
“And what exactly are pots going to do to help us get back home?” asked Trixie.
“Pots help with everything. After all, one of the most famous wizards of all time was a potter.”
Humph pushed through the door and into a narrow hallway. On one side, it did, in fact, lead to a room filled with a great number of pots and urns of every shape and size. Humph ignored those, though, and approached a heavy iron door in the back. As he did, he pulled out his wand. When he was close enough, he shoved it into a hole in the center of the door.
“It’s wandlocked,” he explained. “Whatever you do, don’t stick your finger in there. Tried that. Oooh boy, they were angry with me.”
The mechanism in the door clicked and rotated around the wand, and there were several loud clinking sounds from inside. Then it opened, and Humph pulled his smoking wand free.
“There we go,” he said, entering the darkness on the other side and descending a spiraling, damp stone staircase. He stopped. “Oh yeah. Almost forgot.” He pointed his wand at his head and flicked it. There was a flash of light, and a brown fez appeared.
“A fez? Seriously?” said Trixie. “The worst possible hat?”
“But I thought fezes were cool,” said Sweetie Belle.
“They are,” said Humph. “But unfortunately it isn’t really optional. The Brotherhood has a pretty strict dress code. Gotta wear a fez.”
“Brotherhood?” said Fluttershy. “What kind of brotherhood?”
“Do I get power armor?” said Sweetie Belle, excited.
Humph smiled, but did not answer either question. He led them deeper down the staircase, descending what seemed like hundreds of feet around and around the sturdy but well-weathered brick of the stairs. Eventually they reached the bottom, and the hallway expanded into a system of darkened stone tunnels, like the remnants of some forgotten castle- -or a long-buried crypt.
“Lumos!” said Humph. A beam of fire shot from his wand. “Oh butt nuggets!” he said, shaking his wand. “Why does that always happen?”
“What were you trying to do?” said Sweetie Belle.
“Lumos is supposed to make light.”
“Really? Lumos.” Sweetie Belle’s horn suddenly ignited with much brighter light than normal, and it concentrated into a small white sphere of light at the tip.
“Hey! That’s not fair!” said Humph. “You don’t even have a wand!”
“You barely even have a horn,” said Trixie. “Lumos!”
Instead of igniting with bright light, Trixie’s horn sparked and fizzled with its normal blue light. “What? Why didn’t that work?”
“I keep asking myself the same thing,” said Humph. “At least it wasn’t the Fiendfyre this time…”
“Why do I smell dead things?” said Fluttershy suddenly.
The answer was revealed quickly. Two figures emerged from the darkness and into Sweetie Belle’s light charm. Both of them looked somewhat similar to the shopkeeper on the upper level, with pale, yellowed skin and dead eyes- -except they were dressed in rags and profoundly thin. One of them appeared to have been stitched together from parts with several different skin tones.
“What- -what are those?” cried Trixie.
“The undead,” said Fluttershy, oddly not concerned at all.
“Inferi,” said Humph. “They’re inferi.”
From between the two reanimated bodies, a wizard stepped through. He was slightly shorter than Humph, and dressed in flowing black robes. He too wore a brown fez.
“We- -we don’t want any trouble,” said Sweetie Belle. “We’ll just be going now- -”
Humph stepped forward and without warning punched the other wizard squarely in the nose. The wizard was knocked backward and caught by his reanimated assistants. He then steadied himself and punched Humph in the nose equally hard.
“What- -what are you doing?!”
Both the wizards raised their arms, their index fingers extended. “Long live the Brotherhood!” They both said in unison.
“What- -what just happened?” said Trixie, noticing that both wizards were now smiling.
“Humph,” said the other wizard, pulling out a pair of glasses from his pocket and placing them on his nose. “It’s good to see you. Even if you are only barely a brown-hat.”
“Hey, I resurrected that one owl that one time.”
“Yeah, I know. One owl. One time. Frankly, Humph, you’re not much of a necromancer.”
“Necromancy?” said Sweetie Belle, now extremely interested.
The wizard bowed ornately. “Vincent Rosenblatt, Chief Operations Supervisor of the Brotherhood of the Brown Finger, at your service.”
“The…brown finger?”
“Well, we were going to call it the ‘Black Hand’, but that was taken. By the Serbians.”
“You’re actual necromancers? Really?” said Sweetie Belle, almost jumping with anticipation.
“And you’re a talking unicorn,” said Vincent. “That’s new.”
“I’ve never met a real necromancer before! I mean, of course I’ve snuck a few looks at Twilight’s books on the subject, but most of the tomes are locked up tight!”
“Same here. Which is the purpose of the Brotherhood, after all. To experiment and perfect the forms of magic that the Ministry of the Fun Police and Hogwash deem too ‘uncouth’ to be performed.” He squatted so that he was close to eye level with Sweetie Belle. “You seem really interested in this sort of stuff. I think you’re an okay candidate. Tell you what. We’re having a seminar downstairs on incorporating muggle neuroscience toward the end of resurrecting a functioning body without a soul. Do you want to go?”
“I- -I can? Really?”
“Sure.” Vincent produced his wand and tapped Sweetie Belle’s head. A green fez appeared. “There you go. And feel free to check out our library.”
Sweetie Belle adjusted her fez, and then looked up at Humph, as if asking for permission.
“I’m not your dad,” he said. “I hope. Go ahead.”
Sweetie Belle smiled and ran off, giggling. “Necromancy!”
“Does that stuff actually work?” asked Humph. “The reanimated brain stuff?”
“You mean a biologically functional body without a soul? Yes, actually. We’ve had a success recently. It lasted a full fourth seven seconds before it tore itself apart. The problem is the motivator spells. Or that they’re smart enough to know what they are. Eh.” He shrugged. “But that’s how it goes.”
“And your work on that horcrux?”
Vincent sighed. “I tried to split my soul, but…” He lifted his fez, revealing a plume of bright red hair.
“Ah. I see. Say, I’ve always wondered. You aren’t a Weasely, are you?”
“Only tangentially. But half of England is at this point. I think I went to a family reunion, like, once. Potter was there. I recall him being a huge square.”
“I hear his wife is hot, though.”
“Considering that she would be some kind of distant cousin, I don’t feel comfortable commenting on that.”
“Why?” asked Trixie.
“Yeah,” said Humph. “I mean, you are English. As in Wuthering Heights- -”
The inferi recoiled in fright. “Don’t speak that name here!” hissed Vincent.
“I’m just saying. Isn’t that how you purebloods keep the blood, you know, pure?”
“Was there something you wanted, Humph?”
“Yes,” said Fluttershy, stepping forward. Her presence caused the undead to recoil even farther. They started moaning as if they were on the verge of sprinting away.
“Whoa,” said Vincent, turning around. “I’ve never seen them do that around anything.”
“These weird little horses are interdimensional travelers. I was wondering if you might- -”
Vincent’s expression hardened. “Interdimensional travel? Did you seriously just say that?”
“Um…yes?”
Vincent stared at Humph, and then at Fluttershy and Trixie. “Right. Follow me.”
He led them through what was now quite apparently a long-buried castle toward one of the large and drafty back rooms. It was only slightly modernized, with lanterns hung from the ceiling and several tables placed around with various equipment and books scattered about.
The inferi waited outside as Vincent entered, and he flicked his wand at the lantern, causing it to grow brighter. “Right,” he said, turning around and putting his focus on Trixie. “Let’s check out the metadata.”
“Wait,” said Trixie. “Trixie did not give you permission to- -” Vincent flicked his wand at Trixie, and she started to glow with a dim golden color. “Ack!” She cried. “Tingly! TINGLY!”
The glow concentrated and jumped off of Trixie’s body, assembling into text that hovered over her. Vincent pulled up a chair and sat down, adjusting his glasses and reading the information. “Try to move less,” he said.
“Do you have any idea how weird this feels?! It’s like- -like- -”
“Yup,” said Vincent, flicking his wand again and terminating the spell. He pointed at Trixie with his free hand. “That unicorn is not from this reality. Not even from a reality anywhere near here. If you envision parallel realities as having physical location, which they don’t but- -approximation. Timey wimey. Blah blah blah.”
“Can you get us home?” asked Fluttershy.
Vincent leaned back and took off his glasses. “Alright. Listen. Transdimensional travel is big bokum bad.”
“I thought you were supposed to be experts in forbidden magic.”
“Yes. In magic that’s forbidden because of societal prejudice. Reality magic is…it’s just on a different level. Literally no one specializes in it, because you can’t. It’s not that somebody locked it away, it’s that it so frigging dangerous that nobody has survived it long enough to write it down.”
“We managed it,” said Trixie.
“You were lucky. Wizards have tried to cross dimensions, but…” Vincent paused. “Okay. I’ve actually looked into this a little. As it turns out, almost every reality you can reach? They’re all uninhabitable. Or hostile in ways you can’t even comprehend. Have you ever heard of the Veil?”
Fluttershy’s expression sharpened to an extent that caused Trixie to actually take a step back. “What do you mean ‘Veil’?”
“It’s a portal. Nobody knows who made it, or how long ago. The Ministry of Magic was literally built on top of it to keep it contained. It’s the only known portal left…and it doesn’t go anywhere good.”
“So…so we’re trapped here?” said Trixie.
“No,” said Fluttershy. She looked up at Vincent. “Can you get me a copy of that metadata?”
“Sure, but I don’t know what you want with it.”
“I know how to build a portal.”
The room went silent.
“Um, since when?” asked Humph.
“That literally does not make any sense,” said Trixie. “You’re a…veterinarian? Crazy cat lady? What even is your job, actually?”
“Trust me,” said Fluttershy. “I can do it. My father taught me how. I think maybe he knew that something like this would happen. But I’m going to need parts, and it will take me some time.”
Vincent leaned forward. “You mean you actually know how to make a version of the Veil?”
“In a sense.”
Vincent smiled. “Well, if there’s anything the Brotherhood of the Brown Finger can do to help, I’m more than willing to devote resources to this. We’ll even let you build it here.”
“Wait a minute,” said Trixie. “Didn’t you just say this stuff was really, really, really dangerous? That you didn’t want to research it?”
“I only said that because we don’t have someone who actually knows what she’s doing. If we had a Veil, just think of all the stuff we could do! I mean, send a robot through it, poke it with a stick- -oh, the possibilities!”
“Good thing we’re in the shopping capital of Britain, too,” said Humph. “If you need something capable of opening an interdimensional doorway into a realm of talking horses, you can probably find the pieces in Knockturn alley.”
“Great,” said Vincent, standing. “Now who wants lunch? I have soooooo much blood pudding! And everybody loves blood pudding!”
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
It was starting to rain. Being England, it of course was raining perpetually, but in Knockturn Alley it seemed to rain even more. Never hard enough to be stirring, but drizzly enough to cast gloom over everything to fit the scene.
Sitting against one of these buildings was a small girl dressed in a dirty, overly large dress. She sat huddled, watching people walk past. Most of the people walking past her- -and a few things that were quite clearly not even closely related to people- -either failed to notice her or took active steps to ignore her. That was fine with her, of course. There were generally only two kinds of people who inhabited Knockturn alley: old purebloods who had fallen out of their money and status, or the new breed of wizards scrambling to take their place on the top by whatever means necessary. This girl did not want to associate with them any more than she had to; it was not her job.
With it raining, though, she was starting to get wet. She remained sitting, though, until she was sure that the sector was clear. Then she stood up. Almost as soon as she did, she looked across the alley to see- -for the briefest of moments- -something that should have been impossible.
Far on the other side, she saw a man. He wasObsentsiblya wizard, despite wearing what were clearly muggle clothes. He was wholly uninteresting ,though. What mattered were the three colorful creatures at his side. Even from a distance, it was quite obvious that they were unicorns.
The girl ducked behind one of the buildings but moved forward along the wall quickly. She was not fully sure what she had just seen. There were a lot of strange things wandering the streets of Knockturn Alley, but unicorns were not nor had they ever been one of them.
She passed around the building, following her training exactly. She needed to move quickly but be unapparent and unseen. As she did, she reached for a small camera in her coat pocket. When she looked around the edge, she snapped several pictures in rapid succession. They definitely were unicorns, and they were following the man’s lead, walking with him as he was shopping. He seemed to even be talking to them- -and they were not running away or anything.
Of course, in her rush and confusion, the girl had forgotten to turn off the flash on her camera. One of the unicorns pivoted suddenly, a pale yellow one. It met eyes with her, and as soon as it did she felt an unusual feeling. Something ran through her head, and then progressed to pure terror, as if she were staring at something horrible beyond comprehension.
She quickly ducked away, though, and took a breath. She waited to hear the sound of hooves, or the flashes of green light that usually accompanied her fowling up and getting noticed. Neither came, though, and when she looked back, the wizard and his unicorns were walking off toward Borgin and Burke’s.
The girl considered for a moment, and then started running. This was not part of her mission, but it was definitely something that the boss would want to know.
It did not take her long to move through the labyrinthine streets. It took a combination of instinct and mathematical skill to move through the Alley effectively, but this girl had both of those as well as a significant amount of experience with this area. Within seconds she had reached an off-alley. A group of wizards and one ancient looking witch were exiting, looking around with great suspicion as they tucked several items into their long robes.
Farther back in the dark alley, a man in a long trench coat was leaning against a wall. His oversized hat and dark glasses almost perfectly disguised his face. In fact, the only part of skin showing was his ankles sticking out from beneath his coat.
“Hey, little girl,” he said as she approached. “How old are you? Looking to go to Hogwarts? Well, guess what?” He pulled several long sticks made of diverse wood from his pocket. “I’ve got several fashionable universal wands. Hand-crafted and imported. As good- -no, better- -than what you can get at a Diagon wandshop with no matching required.”
“Marvin,” she said.
“Not intesested in wands, then? Okay. I have a spare Hand of Glory, if you might be interested. Fresh-made. Think it used to be a Death-Eater, so you know it’s good.” He pulled out an extremely tiny hand that had quite obviously come from a monkey. “Lets you see in the dark. You aren’t afraid of the dark, are you, girl?”
“Marvin,” said the girl again, this time more impatiently.
“Or how about this? 6.5x52 Carcano ammunition. Genuine magical bullets! Or even…” He leaned closer. “Just in stock for one time only, illegal in forty seven countries and banned in the rest- -a genuine bona fide Downpoker!”
“MARVIN!”
The girl took a step back and her body expanded. Her arms swung around and cracked as the joints snapped and reconfigured, her bones extending and warping as she shifted. Within seconds, she had become a ruddy, middle-aged woman wearing a now appropriately sized but still dirty dress. “It’s me, Marvin.”
“Maggie?” said Marvin, startled. “Darn it, why didn’t you say something?!”
“I was trying. But your terrible sales pitch kept getting in the way. And come on, Marv, you know I’m a metamorphomagus. We’ve been working together for, like, eight years. How did you not recognize me?”
“It’s not my fault! It’s these glasses I have to wear! I can’t see a bloomin’ thing!”
“Just open up.”
Marvin sighed, and then acquiesced. He removed his hands from his pocket and flashed open his trench coat. Maggie crouched down and peered through the resulting portal, and then stepped through.
Like its unusual entrance, the organization that Maggie had come to work for did not operate like a normal store. Most of the external dealings were handled by Marvin or other salesfolk on the street. They dealt with low-level sales and operations. Only a select few wizards and witches were actually allowed inside the shop itself.
Even for those that were, the actual store was small and not optimized for actual merchandising. There were no glass cases of unusual kitsch objects, or morbid but cheap artifacts dangling from the ceiling. If people wanted that kind of junk, they could just go to Borgin and Burke’s or one of the countless other specialty stores on Knockturn alley. Anyone who came to British Empire Imports and Exports did not need displays. They came knowing exactly what they wanted.
There were only a few shoppers present on this particular day. Maggie passed a young and harsh looking witch examining a crate of vanishing Kalashnikovs that had been brought out to her, and behind her a pair with a clerk being explained the specifics of operation of a large and threatening steel golem. Across the store, a crate of vials of agony fluid- -enough to take out a small city- -was missing, apparently having been sold earlier in the morning. And then, of course, there was a regular, a man with no name who only ever asked for “antiquities”. Maggie did not know what the “antiquities” were, and she did not want to.
Working the front room was not her job, though, and she proceeded toward the back room, stopping only to tap on a large round glass jar of freshly prepared homunculi. Watching them dopily react and start to run around and climb over each other always made her giggle slightly, which calmed her down just a little when she needed to not make a complete fool of herself in front of her employer.
She then proceeded to the back room. As she passed through the door, there was the momentary disorientation and timeliness of having crossed a substantial distance seamlessly. The primary warehouse was actually located in the Cardiff, usually.
The warehouse was enormous and dark, filled with racks and shelves of varying sizes and construction that housed various things that were either being stored or prepared for sale. The whole place smelled old, with a mixture of the oil of the muggle machinery that had once inhabited the place and the old, sour smell of evil wizarding artifacts.
Not wanting to linger, though, Maggie walked quickly through the cavernous facility.
“So,” said a deep voice as Maggie passed a narrow passage between two large shelves, “I’m pretty sure I have a brain tumor.”
“It would explain why your head is so swollen,” said another.
“Wait, swollen? My head isn’t swollen?”
“Oh please, I can hear your beanie screaming from here.”
Two men emerged from between the racks, each carrying one side of an enormous boxboard egg container.
“Maggie!” said the smaller one, who was clearly struggling with his half of the crate.
“Lester,” she said, “and John.”
“Does my head look swollen?” said John.
“Ehh…no?”
“That’s a yes,” said Lester. “It used to be normal size, but then it just swolled up!”
“It’s not big!” said John, pushing the box backward. It ran into Lester’s chest, knocking him down so that his end fell on top of him. Maggie gasped.
“Careful!” gasped Lester. “Do you have any idea how much basilisk eggs cost?”
“Do you have any idea how durable they are? I could shoot one out of a cannon and it would be fine.”
“Just be careful,” said Maggie. “Use a cart or something.”
She turned back to her brisk walk, leaving the two to decide what to do with the eggs, and she crossed the rest of the way toward the part of the warehouse that had been demarcated by masking tape as “office space”. It seemed to have at one time held some sort of large piece of muggle equipment, with a high platform being left over that had a view of the entire warehouse. That was where the boss had set up his personal office. A few tables had been set up beneath it, and presently a few wizards were playing cards. One enormous half troll sat with them- -with the other half often assumed to be giant, based on both his ugliness and intelligence- -grinning at the pieces of cardboard that they had given him in place of real cards.
“Hey Maggie!” said one, waving. Maggie waved back halfheartedly and took a breath, starting toward the rickety metal stairs that led to the boss’s office.
It took her several minutes to reach the top, and when she did, she saw that her supervisor was indeed present, sitting at his desk. That area was well lit with a bright yellowish light, but the rest- -being above the lights strung on the racks below- -remained relatively dark and ominous.
The boss looked up, almost as though he were coming out of a conversation. His steely eyes narrowed. “Magmarian,” he said. “What are you doing here? I’m expecting a runner with two cases of dragon kidneys coming in and you’re leaving your sector? And of all the times- -with the Ministry sticking its long and nubby fingers square up my ar- -”
“Sir, I found something,” said Maggie, her voice shaking almost as much as she was. She was never one for speaking to authority figures. “Something incredible- -”
“Incredible? I’m incredulous. If it’s anything like that ‘glowing frog’ you found that turned out to be a glowing toad- -”
“No, no! It’s not like that at all! I was on the street- -”
“Doing your job. Which I pay you for.”
“Yes. I know. But I saw UNICORNS! I- -I saw a man, a wizard, with tame unicorns!”
“Impozzible,” said a deep but vaguely female voice from behind Maggie. She jumped, letting out a small yip of surprise. She had not realized that another person was present- -or, more horribly, that she must have interrupted an official conversation.
She pivoted to see a figure rise from the boss’s couch, standing in the shadows. It stepped forward, and even Maggie was immediately aware that it was not human. It was enormous and quadrupedal.
“Zere are no unicorns,” said the voice in a heavy German accent. “Zey are extinct. I should know. I helped make zem dat way.”
She stepped forward into the light, and Maggie nearly fainted. She found herself staring into a pair of narrow, slit-like pupils in an enormous white-feathered avian head. She saw a pair of feather-coated legs, and talons beneath them- -but not in the rear. That part of her body more closely resembled that of a lion.
“G…g…griffin,” she squeaked. “B- -boss, there wasn’t a griffon on any of the manifests- -”
The griffon reached forward. It was a remarkably swift motion- -far faster than a human could move- -but seemed to take her no effort. Maggie immediately found a razor-sharp claw held directly beneath her chin.
“Now,” she said, calmly. “Would you, little human, care to explain to me why you zink dat I would be on a manifest? As though I am ze import? Do I look like a hippogriff to you?”
“A…a little?”
“This is Gisla,” explained the boss. “From our PSoviet branch. A personal friend of mine, and our new comanager.”
“I- -I didn’t know griffons could talk!”
“Of course we can talk,” said Gisla. “Why would you zink we can’t? Zat we are simply dumb animals, perhaps, as the goblins or ze centaurs? Nein. And you would do well to remember zat, no? As I can very, very, oh so easily remove…” She tapped her claw against Maggie’s chin. “…some of the more…unattractive elements of your face.”
“Un…understood, ma’am.”
“Carefly, Gisla,” said the boss, almost halfheartedly. “She’s an asset. Kind of. She’s a metamorphomagus and one of our few Hogwarts graduates. What house was it you were in again, Magmarian?”
“H- -Hufflepuff. Class of- -of- -’01.”
Gisla stared at her for a long moment, then cocked her head and lowered her claw. “You are too soft, Eugene.”
“We’re in the business of business, not killing,” said Eugene. “But Gisla is right. There are no unicorns left. They were hunted to extinction. Gisla oversaw the harvest in some of the last preserves in Eastern Europe.”
“They’re- -they’re extinct?”
Eugene sighed. “Magmarian, do you have any idea how much unicorn blood is worth?”
“I’m not fully up to date on the exchange rate, but- -”
“Fifteen million galleons an ounce.”
Magmarian’s jaw dropped. “Fifteen…fifteen million….why?”
“Because of what it can do. And how illegal it is. There is nothing- -NOTHING- -that heals like unicorn blood. Even phoenix tears. Those only cure disease, but unicorn blood lets you ignore disease. It makes you far, far better than human. Or so the nubs stupid enough to try to use it claim.”
“Idiots,” said Gisla, passing Maggie and slapping her in the face with her tail. “But if zey want to spend zeir money to live a cursed existence, it is only to our benefit. Or was.”
“Adding to that, there are no ‘tame’ unicorns. There never were. That’s not possible.”
“Especially in ze company of a man,” said Gisla. “Only ze maidens such as yourself can even hope to approach them.”
“Maiden- -?”
“What you are saying is impossible,” said the boss.
“But- -I have pictures!”
Gisla and Eugene both paused, and then stared at her.
“Okay, then,” said Eugene, leaning forward and smiling. “Now I’m interested. You’ve tickled my fancy.”
“Eew,” said Gisla.
“Queit, you. Go get the pictures developed. We’ll have a look in two to three wizarding business days.”
“I don’t have to,” said Maggie, fishing out the camera from her pockets. It was annoying because pockets tended to shift when she changed shape, and it took her a moment to find the one containing the camera. “It’s digital.”
“Digital?” said Eugene. “So it’s a muggle camera?”
“Oh no, it’s a wizard camera. The pictures move and everything.”
“Zo…it takes ze video?”
“Well, it does that too, but…let me just show you.”
She turned on the camera and showed the pictures to her employers.
“No frigging way,” said Eugene, taking the camera from her and clicking through the pictures. “Gisla, are you seeing this?”
“Ja,” she said, herself seeming surprised- -though of course it was difficult to read the expressions of a being whose face consisted mostly of feathers and a beak.
“Right,” said Eugine, looking up at Maggie, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Did you get a trace on them?”
“Yes. The camera flash had the spell built in.”
“And clearly some severe red-eye,” said Gisla, pointing at the yellow colored horse.
“Who cares?” said Eugene. He pulled out a pad, and a quill leapt from his drawer and began writing. “I’m going to dispatch a procurement team. Maggie, you get to lead.”
“M- -me?”
“Um, yeah? Because everyone else is busy.”
“Oh…”
“And take Liu with you.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “L…Liu? Boss, I don’t think that’s really necessary. It’s just a retrieval mission- -”
“She needs the experience,” said Eugene. He then leaned forward and looked intensely serious. “That, and you’re going to need her.”
“Why would I need her?”
Eugene pointed toward the pictures. “Tell me. You went to Hogwarts. What kind of caliber wizard do you think it would take to tame a unicorn? To have the confidence to just walk down the street with them, flaunting them, in Knockturn Alley of all places?”
“I- -” Maggie had not thought about that.
“Not to mention the fact that if something like this turns up, the Brotherhood probably knows about it too.”
“Brownfinger?” said Gisla, nearly laughing. “An organization of old coots and Hogwartz rejects?”
“Mostly, yes, but half of them are bat-butt crazy. Do you know who invented the instant-insanity curse? They did. By accident. And by practicing it on each other.”
Maggie gulped. “You don’t think…”
“I do think. Either he’s in it, or they’re about to pay him a visit. The messy kind. And whoever that guy is,” he pointed at the wizard in the picture, “he’s some kind of high-level schmuck. Could be Ministry, eccentric, even an old Death Eater. Total bad-news bears any direction.”
“D..death Eater?”
“Or a breeder,” said Gisla.
“Let’s not get our hopes up. Three alone is enough to gross ten times our annual take.” He leaned forward and smiled at Maggie. “So don’t mess up, won’t you? And try not to die.”
Maggie shivered, dumbfounded. She wished she had just stayed outside and done her job.
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
"Ack!" cried Humph. "My finger! I've gotten my finger stuck in my nose!" There was a pause, followed by a much more nasal and more panicked response: "No! Now both are stuck! Fluttershy, help!"
Sweetie Belle sighed, and then reached out with her magic, closing the door to one of Humph's spare rooms to block out the annoying sounds of him being, in total, an idiot. She could still hear him complaining, but the sound of the heavy rain on his poorly thatched house mostly drowned him out. Sweetie Belle turned her attention back to the several open books laid out in front of her. Sweetie Belle was not sure why, but Humph had a surprising number of varied and heavily used texts. They seemed to be, apparently, textbooks, with the majority of them being on an incredibly basic level.
These books were greatly unlike the magic she was used to. She had of course seen magical books before, but the vast majority of them were as thick and dry as Rarity's exorbitantly well hidden dandruff. They were the sort of things that Twilight had memorized by heart and Starlight understood intuitively. Human magic, though, was profoundly more practical. Although Humph had books on theory- -that were heavily annotated and doodled with rude drawings- -almost everything he had read like instruction manuals. The idea of simply speaking the name of a spell was completely novel to Sweetie Belle, but proved profoundly effective.
She looked at one of the books, then lifted her head and looked around the room, eventually setting her sights on a damp cardboard box on the far side of the room.
"Defindo," she said, charging her horn at it.
The box immediately split neatly in half. From somewhere else in the building, Humph called out. "Did somebody just touch my box?"
"And..." said Sweetie Belle, reading a different portion of a different book. "Reparo!"
The box ignited with energy and the clean cut within it sealed shut. There was no skill or thought involved; Sweetie Belle just had to say the right words.
"Neat," said Sweetie Belle. She looked up the next spell. "Hmm...confringi- -"
She was interrupted by Trixie opening the door. Like always, Trixie looked unhappy. "What are you doing in here?" she said, her eyes narrowing on the various books surrounding Sweetie Belle. "Playing with your horn, maybe?"
"Actually, yes," said Sweetie Belle. "If you must know, I'm learning. Something you, clearly, haven't spent much time doing."
"Oh, what? Reading some musty old books? Or are you even old enough to read?"
"I am. Are you?"
"The Great and Powerful Trixie? Of course! I've delved so deep into the mystical arts, you're tiny filly brain can scarcely understand the extent of Trixie's power!" Trixie levitated a book and held it in front of her. She frowned, and then turned it over. "Um...is this even in Equestrian?"
"Uh, no. That one's in Aramaic. You need to cast a translation spell to read it."
"Oh. Sure." Trixie's horn brightened, and a green plume of sparks burst form it- -which Sweetie Belle already knew was not at all what a translation spell looked like."
"Ah, yes," said Trixie. "I see. Interesting."
"Okay then," said Sweetie Belle, deciding to call her bluff. "How about you show me what you can do?"
"What I can do? Oh, the Great and Powerful Trixie can- -"
"Duplicate that book."
Trixie's eyes widened, and she blinked. "Excuse Trixie?"
"Duplicate it. It's a simple charm. Gemino. Just point your horn at it and say it. It should make two. Or more, if you really are 'Great and Powerful'."
“Oh. Fine,” said Trixie. She set the book on the ground and focused her horn on it. “Gemino!” she said. Her horn sparked and flashed, and the room exploded with an explosion of fireworks. Sweetie Belle cast a shield spell around herself, but it hardly helped with the sound. When the explosion eventually concluded, the book remained where it was, singed but unduplicated.
“You tricked me!” said Trixie. “That’s not a real spell!”
“Gemino,” said Sweetie Belle.
Trixie was immediately flattened by hundreds of exact clones of her hat. For a moment, the pile of hats was still. Then Trixie burst out, taking a deep breath and coughing out a tiny hat.
“See?” said Sweetie Belle. “Easy. Maybe if you actually read the books instead of, what is you actually do with them? Eat them?” Sweetie Belle was promptly knocked back as a book was thrown into her face. “Hey!” she cried.
“Why do you keep doing that?” snapped Trixie, suddenly angrily.
“Do what- -you were the one who threw a book at me!”
“Because you deserved it!”
“No I didn’t! I didn’t do anything- -”
“Do you think I’m not trying? That I haven’t tried? ‘Oh, yes. That Trixie, she can’t use REAL magic, she must be a lazy slacker who never even applies herself. She certainly doesn’t spent ten hours a day practicing her spells and routines, working her horn to the bone. All she can do is make sparks and lights!’”
Sweetie Belle gaped. “But- -”
“See, I tolerated you at the show. When you tried to upstage me and humiliate me- -at my own show! I took that in stride, trying to be nice. But now, every chance you get, you make fun of me. Why? Because I’m not as able to do magic as you?”
“But you could be,” said Sweetie Belle, protesting. “If you just- -”
“What, practiced more? I’ve been practicing for TWENTY YEARS. Even with Starlight’s lessons, I. Just. CAN’T. And somehow you’re actually good at it- -do you know what that’s like for me? Look at you! Your cutie mark is a musical note! You’re a SINGER!” Trixie flipped her cape over her side and exposed her rump. “Look at mine! Magic wand! I have a MAGIC cutie mark, and I can barely magic the cockroaches out of the cheap cart I can barely afford!”
“I didn’t realize. I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know. Didn’t know? How could you not know what you were doing? That’s all ponies ever do. Make fun of me, humiliate me. I should be used to it…but I was finially starting to get my life together. I had a friend, I had fans, and now…” Trixie was starting to sob. “Now I’m stuck here, and I’m never going to get back!”
Trixie wiped her face with one of her hooves and started to turn away, but Sweetie Belle stood up.
“Wait,” she said.
“If you’re just going to laugh at me for crying- -”
“No,” said Sweetie Belle. “I…” She sighed. After all the years of being berated every day by various bullies for not having her cutie mark, she wondered how she could not have realized what she was doing. “I was being really hurtful to you, and I’m sorry. Actually…” She suddenly started to feel horrible, “I’ve been a huge jerk. I mean, if a pony had interrupted me at a recital like I did to you at your show? I mean…” She hung her head. “I’m sorry, Trixie.”
“Well,” said Trixie, at least you know. “But I probably should have told you sooner. It’s sometimes hard for me to admit that I’m actually weak at magic.”
“Maybe I can help?” said Sweetie Belle. She pushed at a book with her hoof. “These human spells are really, really easy to do for a unicorn. Gemino’s not actually easy at all. Maybe we can practice together?”
Trixie looked suspicious for a moment, but a small smile crossed her face. “If you think you can keep up, sure.”
Across the house- -which was not extremely far, seeing as it was a rather small house- -Fluttershy leaned over a system of artifacts and components surrounding Sweetie Belle’s necklace.
“Did you hear an explosion?” she asked.
Humph leaned forward from his chair. “Yeah,” he said, listening to the wicker creak dangerously. “That happens a lot around here. I usually just ignore it.”
Fluttershy seemed to nervously acknowledge that loud noises were, apparently, commonplace in this world. She pointed at one of the many boxes that they had taken back from Knocturn Alley. “I need the opal now.”
“Sure,” said Humph, snapping a latex glove onto one hand. He reached into the tissue paper and removed a gaudy Victorian necklace with a gleaming opal in the center. “One super-cursed necklace.”
“Thank you,” said Fluttershy, taking the necklace in a hoof. She turned it over and then clamped her teeth around the central stone, pulling it free of its casing and inserting it into the small but magically complicated device she was building. “Rarity would be so angry if she saw me doing this.”
“Don’t know who that is, but don’t worry. There’s a pretty easy spell that turns charcoal into diamonds. Diamonds or pain, generally. I’ll just make a few and put them in there, then sell it back at a profit.”
“What about the curse?”
“It was in the opal. See, watch.” Humph removed his glove and tapped the necklace. His entire body convulsed and spasmed as he jerked away. “NOPE. Still in there. Ow. My insides. I think my liver is where my duodenum used to be!”
“Oh my, do you need to go to a doctor?”
“No way, I don’t have insurance. Besides, I get worse curses when I fall asleep on my wand. No really, don’t do that.” He leaned over Fluttershy’s pony shoulder. The device she was building consisted of, essentially, a cubic container around the red cubic gemstone aggregate within. It required some real heavy-duty ingredients and parts, though. “Is that thing actually going to be strong enough to punch a hole through to another reality.”
“No, of course not. You were listening to your friend, I’m sure. Even if I did have something with that power, there would be no way to know where we were going. Sweetie Belle and Trixie would not survive.”
“So…what is it, then?”
“When an adorable wolf puppy is separated from his pack, he howls for his family. This works on a similar principle.”
“Ah,” said Humph. “I have no idea what that means.”
“You’re a powerful wizard, aren’t you? What did those wizards say? You resurrected an owl?”
“Well, sort of. Want to see?”
Fluttershy turned away from her work with the most stern and serious of expressions on her face. “I’ve never wanted to see anything more in my entire life. Except breezies in tiny dresses with tiny hats. Because that would be frigging adorable.”
Humph smiled and stood up. He reached over a dusty shelf of various rusty artifacts, sending a small herd of homunculi fleeing in terror as he disturbed their territory. He removed a shoebox from the top shelf.
“This is great,” he said, setting the box on the table and popping it open. “Fluttersy, meet Awl.”
Several flies flew out of the box, and Fluttershy covered her nose against the strong odor. She looked in to see a small and grimy gray owl. His feathers were unpreened and greasy, and his beak was slightly open with his tougue lolling out. Both of his misty yellow eyes were facing different directions.
“Um…is it dead?” asked Fluttersy.
“WHO,” responded Awl, suddenly shaking himself back awake. He rose, shaking off dandruff, and stepped to the edge of the box. Though he spread his wings to fly, he promptly fell forward flat on his face. “WHO,” he said, seemingly unaware both that he was not flying and that he was long dead.
“Um…”
“I know, right?” said Humph. “He’s great. Never needs to eat or anything. An Inferi owl.”
“Named Awl?”
“Awl is a good name for an owl. All our owls should be named Awl for all I know.”
“I can’t argue with that logic,” said Fluttershy, poking at the owl. It hooted again, and then beat its wings extremely fast until it reached the edge of the desk and fell off. Humph reached down and grabbed it, shoving it into his pocket.
“And you brought it back to life?”
“Eh…I kind of cheated.”
“Cheated?”
Humph nodded. “I used magic yeast. It’s great for necromancy. It helps the dead rise.”
“So…you’re not really much of a wizard? Oh, sorry. That sounds insulting. I didn’t mean- -”
“No, it’s true. I’m a bit of a dullard. I didn’t even get into Hogwarts.”
“Hogwarts? That’s the school, right?”
“Yup. The only wizarding school in the entire United Kingdom. That’s one school for an entire country. I mean, do the math. Hogwarts has four houses, and if each year has 100 students in each, that means there’s only 400 per year.” He laughed. “If that’s how many wizards are alive in one year, our population would be, what, 40K, tops? And I’d really like to think we didn’t fight two wars over ruling the a population the size of Perth. The Scottish one, not the Australian one.”
“I see. So it’s very selective, then.”
“Most definitely. There’s only three ways you get into Hogwarts: being a pureblood, gifted, or rich. Or I guess you can cheat like Sunflower did. I mean, I guess most wizards are home-schooled. A few go to private schools. Even the Brotherhood takes some students.”
“So the Brotherhood trained you.”
“Oh, no. I went to the WandMart, got a wand for seventy rubles, and just sort of…well, guessed.” Humph shrugged. “That’s what most of us do.”
“Well, what counts is that you’re trying,” said Fluttershy, assembling what she was building into a cubic puzzle box.
“Is it done?” said Humph.
“Oh no. Far from it. I still need to tinker with it. It could take a while. How long does your species live for?”
“Um…nine hundred. Five thousand tops.”
“Ah. You might want to consider having children.”
They suddenly fell silent, staring at each other. That was when they heard the sound of footsteps outside.
“What…what was that?” whispered Fluttershy, suddenly shaking and looking terrified, holding the puzzsle box to her chest.
“I don’t know,” said Humph, also shaking. “That’s not a haggis.”
He stood up and leaned through the door, looking down the dark hallway. For a moment, he thought that it could be Sweetie Belle or Trixie, but they were both down the hall in a room that had used to be a bathroom until Humph had sold the toilet.
The footsteps suddenly continued. Wet and squishing, barely aduable through the rain. Even as quiet as they were, though, Humph could hear them circling the house. Many, many sets.
Fluttershy grabbed his leg, and he wished he had a giant leg to grab. He was terrified.
“Get out your wand,” she whispered.
“Right,” said Humph, drawing his wand and pointing it into the darkness.
“Um…doesn’t it go the other way?”
“Oh,” said Humph, realizing that she was right. He turned it around and started to walk through the hallway. Fluttershy, not wanting to be alone, squeaked and followed him.
“Maybe it’s just an animal,” she said, her voice quaking. “Some adorable, lost animal who wants to come in from the rain.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” said Humph. “Just a…large number of very, very heavy, bipedal animals. Lurking around my house…in a thunderstorm…yeah…”
Through a window, Humph suddenly saw a figure move quickly behind the dirty glass. He almost fainted, and was glad he was wearing magic trousers. He had not seen it closely, but it was most definitely NOT an animal.
Then, suddenly, with a flash of lightning, the back door swung open. Through the surge of light, Humph could see innumerable deformed humanoid figures standing beyond the door, silhouetted by the flash behind them.
He screamed, and Fluttershy screamed. They both hugged each other tightly, and Humph pointed his wand at them. In his confusion and absolute terror, he performed the only spell he could think of. A leek flew out of the end of his wand and struck the nearest of the figures.
“What is it?! What’s wrong?!” cried Sweetie Belle, bounding into the room, her horn bringing more consistent light to the darkness.
When the figures were lit, Fluttershy fainted instantly. Sweetie Belle shrieked, and Trixie, who had come running behind her, looked as though she were about to be sick. Humph, however, laughed at how stupid he had been.
“Oh!” he said, dropping Fluttershy like a sack of limp potatoes. “Oh, of course!”
“WHAT ARE THEY!” cried Sweetie Belle, her voice almost beyond Humph’s range of hearing.
“Mandrakes,” said Humph. The warty, fat, dirty roots wandered through his door. They were roughly in the same size and shape of men, but hairless, lumpy, and asymmetrical with leaves growing out of their heads. “Their garden soil doesn’t drain well. When it rains a lot, they like to come inside.”
Without speaking, the mandrakes wandered over to Humph’s couch and began to sit down. Humph followed them, but instead of going to the couch went to the old television across from it. He waved his wand and flicked it against the battered fake-wood surface, and the cathode-ray tube hummed to life. At first, there was just static, and the mandrakes began to grumble.
“Hold your horseradishes,” he said, punching the television repeatedly in the side. “Almost- -got it- -stupid- -tubes- -there!” The TV resolved on a blurry black and white image of several figures running around a field chasing a white and black checkered ball.
“What is that?” said Trixie. “It looks super boring.”
“Football,” said Humph. “They really like England for some reason. Heaven only knows why. Oh, and it looks like the game is almost over too.” The root men did not seem to care, and congregated around the television, watching intently. “Eew…they tracked mud. Now I need to find a mop. Or…” He pushed Fluttershy with his foot toward the mess.
Just as she was starting to absorb moisture, every window and door in the house suddenly burst open and armored, cloaked wizards rushed in. In at least one case, one appeared to be thrown through a window with enough force to injure himself. The others, though, remained relatively competent, immediately pointing their wants at Humph.
“Holy butt nuggets, it’s the 5-0!” cried Humph, putting both hands in the air. “It wasn’t me, the tax form got lost in the mail! For the past eight years straight!”
“Wh…what?” said Fluttershy, waking up groggily. “Why am I wet?” She looked up at the wizards surrounding her. “Oh…I missed something, didn’t I?”
One of the wizards stepped forward. He actually looked pretty epic, with a long wizardly coat but also armor that looked as though it might have enchantments that would actually be useful for blocking some of the effects of spells. He even had a muggle riot mask to protect his face. In other words, armor that was actually potentially effective for combat- -not swirling, loose robes and masks that left the user’s eyes completely open to blinding spells.
“Give us the unicorns,” he said, reaching toward Sweetie Belle.
Humph, though, was not paying attention to the wizards. His eyes had instead been attracted toward the television in the corner. The mandrakes had apparently not noticed the intrusion. They were leaning forward at the edge of their seats, their potato-like eyes opened as wide as they could as they stared in awe as a skinny and lone forward neared the goal. Humph had never been able to get anything except the Venezuelan broadcast, so the language was in Spanish, but he could tell what was about to happen. He saw the forward fake, and the goalie go the wrong way.
“EARS! COVER! NOW!” he cried just as the ball went into the net.
About a half mile away, Sunflower had just settled down from a hard day of leatherworking. She was sitting in front of her fire with a glass of expensive wine and a Harry Potter biography, reading, as was her custom. She was calm and relatively happy, when suddenly every window in her house cracked and her wine glass shattered from the resulting cheering.
She looked down at the glass, and then growled in anger. “HUMPH!”
In a different direction, a man standing up to his armpits in a deep mud puddle suddenly turned toward Humph’s house. “Ivan hears a noise…” he said to himself- -or to the aliens that lived in his pockets, as they tended to listen to his thoughts. He took a long swig from a now completely shattered glass bottle as he began to pull himself out of the mud and make his way toward the origin of the sound.
Meanwhile, Humph and three ponies sprinted out of his backdoor and into the slowing rain.
“You’ll never take my money alive!” cried Humph at who he was assuming was a Ministry Tax squad.
“Reucio porto!” cried Sweetie Belle, pointing her horn at the back door. It immediately puckered closed, trapping a few of the wizards who had not been mandrake-paralyzed inside. They waved their wands, blasting various colored spells in all direction, but were quickly overtaken as the mandrakes collapsed into hooliganism.
They had not escaped, though, as a number of wizards suddenly appeared out from the woods. A beam of red light shot past Humph, but he slipped in the mud and it barely missed. He lifted his wand and pointed it at the nearest attacker.
“Reducio skullis!” he shouted. A beam of violet light shot from his wand and struck the wizard in the face. His head immediately reduced in size, his protective mask falling off as he began to run around, flailing his arms.
“My head! I have a tiny head!” he screamed in a ridiculous, high-pitched voice.
“Get back in the fight, you git!” ordered another. “He’ll never be able to hit it now!”
While that wizard was distracted, Humph rotated and targeted him. “Dysfabricus!”
There was a puff of smoke, and the wizard’s clothing vanished completely, leaving him completely nude in the cold British rain. He squealed like a stuck pig and covered himself, dropping his wand and trying to duck behind a tree.
“Alarte Ascendere!” screamed another wizard.
“Oop!” said Humph, ducking. The spell missed him and struck Fluttershy instead, sending her screaming and crying into the air.
“Help!” she wailed.
“Wings, Fluttershy, wings!” called Sweetie Belle.
Fluttershy spread her wings and hovered. “Oh,” she said.
“Sweetie Belle, do something!” cried Trixie, jumping out of the way as a wizard leapt forward.
“Uh- -um- -uh- -Ronijami Diosis!”
An enormous ultra-bright rainbow shot out of Sweetie Belle’s horn, knocking several wizards back as it struck them and sent them flying. Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, was thrown backward with tremendous force and knocked into Trixie and Humph.
Humph, now covered in ponies, lifted his wand through the mass of slightly damp unicorn and pointed his wand at a nearby wizard. A white beam of light shot out, striking him in the chest. He stepped back, but then felt his chest and realized nothing was wrong.
“Ha!” he said. “Misfire!”
“Says you,” said Humph, grinning. “I just gave you magical scabies!”
“You- -oh, you’re gonna get it Deatheater- -” He raised his wand, but as he did a corona of blue light formed around it and Trixie plucked it from his hand. “Ack!” he cried. “I am disarmed! Mercy! MERCY!”
Trixie looked at the wand in amazement, and then at the wizard. She broke out into an enormous grin. “In this world, the Great and Powerful Trixie really IS great and powerful!” She swung the wand at the wizard. “Wingardium leviosa!”
The wizard lifted into the air and blubbered as he started to float away.
“TO THE MOON!” cried Trixie, laughing manically.
Several wizards then rushed the group. Sweetie Belle, now recovering from her Dio charm, looked up and blinked. “Protegioconfringo!” she screamed.
A shield perimeter formed around them- -and then exploded. Sweetie Belle and Humph watched in amazement.
“Epic,” they both said at the same time.
“Epic later, run now!” said Trixie, pushing them forward.
They raced into the woods, with Humph mostly sprinting ahead and tripping over various trees, rocks, and haggis.
“Wait!” said Fluttershy, dropping out of the sky and running. She was clearly out of breath. “Even though I spent so much time running from things- -+WHEEZE+- -I’m notoriously unathletic! I need to- -EEEK!”
A wizard leapt from a tree, reaching for Fluttershy.
“Now I’ve got you, tiny horse!” she shouted. Before she could reach, though, a swarm of spherical golden birds poured out of the trees and surrounded her, pecking at her with their tiny beaks.
“AHHH! NO! The snidgets, not the snidgets! NOOOOO!” Her voice trailed off as she was carried away by the swarm.
“Um…thank you!” called Fluttershy.
Something moved in the brush, and Trixie zeroed in on a wizard. She raised her newly acquired wand and shot off one of the only spells that Sweetie Belle had taught her. “Accio!”
“Trixie, that won’t- -”
Sweetie Belle’s admonishment was drowned out by the sound as Trixie’s spell hit the wizard in the crotch and, as he was dragged forward, his voice quickly rose approximately twelve octaves until only dogs and Fluttershy could hear it.
“Careful!” said Humph. “If you had hit his spleen, you could have- -” He fell over a stump with a loud thump. “Stupid forest obstacles!” he complained. “Can’t see- -LUMOS!” A jet of flame shot out of his wand, igniting several wizards in his path who were forced to teleport out to escape the flames.
“Oops,” he said, standing and picking up Fluttershy. “Come on! We have to get to Sunflower’s! It’s the only thing I know how to do when bad things happen!”
The whole operation was going downhill, and fast. Maggie had no idea just how powerful this mysterious unicorn-tamer would be. She had done everything by the book, setting a perimeter and sending an advanced assault force in under the cover of a thunderstorm. They should have been able to take him down easily- -except somehow he had taken out the entire assault team and fought his way through the inner perimeter.
“Yes!” she said into her magical headpiece as she ran through the forest. “Backup! I need BACKUP! The target is moving, and we can’t do BUTTS to stop him!”
“It will take time to deploy a secondary team, but Liu is inbound,” said the voice on the other side.
“Crap crap crappity crap crap CRAP,” swore Maggie. She was one of the only ones left on the first squad, and the rain was now working to her disadvantage. She could hardly see through the rain, even with the enhancements she was making to her eyes. The target was never supposed to be able to get into the forest- -once concealed in the trees, he would be impossible to find.
Then, suddenly, Maggie bumped into something that was not a tree. She fell backward, and so did the man she had just run headlong into.
“Ow!” she cried.
“I’m so sorry,” said the man, sitting up. He and Maggie looked at each other and blinked.
“YOU!” cried Maggie, realizing that she was looking at her target.
“Tax collector!” cried the man. He raised his wand. Maggie’s had been knocked out of her hand, and she was defenseless. “Alohamora!”
A beam of yellow light struck her, and all that happened was that her sinuses felt slightly clearer. She paused, wondering why he had used an unlocking spell on her.
“DELETRIUS!” she yelled, firing her wand at him just as he was standing.
“Descendo!” retorted the man, pointing his wand at himself and causing him to slam into the ground with immense force in time to dodge the spell. From below, he pointed his wand at her. “Dimunuendo!”
“Protegio!” She cast a shield, but there was no impact apart from a violet surge. Maggie looked around, confused, as her target had apparently vanished. She wondered if he had apirated without her noticing, when suddenly she saw the leaves near his former position rustling. To her astonishment, she saw him- -now six inches tall- -trying desperately to sprint away from her.
“Oh, it’s a good thing I put my stompin’ boots on today!” she said, chasing after him.
Suddenly, another voice called from the brush beside her. “Engorgio!”
The man suddenly enlarged to his normal size directly below Maggie, grabbing her stomping foot on the way up and tilting her onto her back. The wind was knocked out of her as she fell, and a sharp pain went through her mouth.
“OWF!” she cried. She grasped for her mouth and felt liquid that was not from the rain. “Myth tung! You made me bith my tung!”
“I’m so sorry,” said the man.
“You’re abouth to be,” said Maggie, standing up- -and putting her wand away. She was tired of doing this by the book and now she was angry.
She directed her metamorphomagus magic inward, causing herself to shift. Her muscle mass increased exponentially, and she felt her clothing rip as her bones extended and hardened. Within seconds she was towering a meter over the man, her face contorted into a wild grimace.
“Supermutant!” cried a blue unicorn below. From above, Maggie could now see her true targets, a trio of small horses. They were here- -and for some reason, they could talk.
“Lacurnum inflamare!” shouted the smallest of the unicorns. She appeared to be actually competent, and a well-formed blast of flame shot out of her horn. Maggie did not bother to dodge or block; instead, she thickened her skin into an inflammable shell and withstood the blow. As she did, she reached down and snapped a tree off at the base. Just as the man she had been fighting was standing, she bashed him in the chest with the tree, sending him flying backward ten feet and into a tree with tremendous force.
Maggie immediately cringed. She despised actually hurting people. Dueling with magic was one thing, but with a blow like that he had surely sustained internal injury, with the least possible being bruised or broken ribs. Fortunately, Maggie knew some amount of magical first aid and could heal him once the unicorns were secured.
Except he did not even seem to notice. Even after both blows, he seemed to experience no pain or to even notice that he had just sustained injury.
“Tell me, pretty lady,” he said, raising his wand. “Have you ever met...a level 23 cromniomancer?!”
He waved his wand and something appeared. At first, Maggie reacted defensively, reaching for a wand. As it turned out, though, all he had summoned was, of all things, a leek.
“Sweetie Belle!” he said, tossing it to her.
“Macroherbivicus!” squeaked the small pony.
The spell hit the leek, and it instantly grew to enormous size- -and then began moving. It pulled itself toward Maggie on a set of tentacle-like roots, reaching for her. From a brief teaching position at Mahoutokoro, Maggie knew that it was now time to be absolutely terrified.
The tentacles wrapped around her limbs, and as it turned out, the enormous onion was stronger than she was by far. Her targets seemed to realize this too, and they started to retreat.
“NO!” bellowed Maggie. She shifted again, this time returning to normal size and causing the roots to loosen. As she did, she reached for her wand. “Polydefindo!”
The leek was instantly shredded, and she swirled through its remains, targeting the group just as the man turned around to face her. “STUPEFY!”
A burst of red energy shot out of her wand, and it struck the first to unicorns, rendering them paralyzed instantly. The pale-yellow unicorn was out of the initial range of the spell, but leapt into its path at the last second to protect her master. She too fell stiffly to the ground.
The man looked down at the ponies, and then up at Maggie. “That was so mean!” he said. “What did they ever do to you? Ponies don’t even pay taxes!” He then raised his wand and smiled a broad, mad smile. “I guess it’s just one on one now, though.”
Maggie did not know why, but that smile terrified her. She knew instantly that this was not an ordinary wizard, or not even anything close to one. Then, as she watched, the end of his wand started to spark and drip writhing, liquid fire. Maggie’s eyes widened in fear, because she recognized the spell. This man was insane enough to be preparing to produce Fiendfyre. Even with all the rain, nothing would stop that spell. It would consume him, her, the ponies, and the entire forest, even the muggle villages near it. This man was a true dark wizard, and Maggie instantly knew that she had to stop him.
She did not know why it came to her mind, or what caused the long-forgotten spell to surface in her consciousness. She could have cast a shield, or apirated, or even disarmed him, but the fear took hold of her and she raised her wand, acting with complete conviction.
“Avada kedavra!” she shrieked. A blast of green light shot from her wand and hit the man in the chest. His eyes widened as he looked down, and then they went hazy as he fell backward onto the dirt below.
Maggie cried out in horror at what she had just done. It was too much. Those staring, open eyes- -she could not bear to look at him. She crouched, closing her eyes and covering her ears as she burst into tears. She kept telling herself that she had to do it, that there was no other choice- -but she knew that there had been. She had just murdered a man. She was a killer.
It took her several seconds to regain her composure enough to talk. Still with her eyes closed- -she had never seen a dead body, not even when the Dark Lord had taken Hogwarts in her third year- -and she did not want to see one now.
“O…okay,” she said. “Unicorns, you’re…you’re going to come with me. Back to base. I need to…” She needed to open her eyes. It took her several seconds just to get the courage to face that idea, and then several more to actually force herself to look at her handiwork.
Instead of a body, though, she saw a pile of clothes in the shape of a human. She stared at this, confused.
“Did he…did he just Obiwan Kenobi me?”
Then she realized that the ponies were gone as well, and looked up just in time to see him sprinting away in only his underwear, carrying all three stiff ponies through the woods.
Numb and completely dumbfounded, she got up to chase him- -only to fall flat on her face. She saw that not only had he just survived the unsurvivable killing curse, but he had used a knotting spell to tie her bootlaces together. This man was indeed an extremely powerful and dangerous dark wizard.
Author's Note
If it looks like I'm not taking this seriously, well...
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Humph was extremely out of breath by the time he reached Sunflower’s house. He was not used to extended physical activity, and ponies were surprisingly heavy, especially once their initial stiffness faded into stupefied limpness. He had managed to carry Fluttershy and Trixie under each arm, but had been forced to put Sweetie Belle around his neck. She had fallen off several times on the way.
With no hands available to him, Humph decided to ram the door with his head so as to knock. Before his decidedly thick skull could impact the hard oak of the door, though, it swung open and Hump felt himself trip and tumble into warmth of the cottage.
The door slammed behind him. “Dinklehuegen!” shouted Sunflower in a stern, angry voice. “What the name of Merlin’s saggy left earlobe did you DO? It’s a bloody hornet’s nest out there!”
“Problem,” said Humph. “Chased…ponies…stupefied…”
“Stupified?” Sunflower swore. As Humph was pulling himself up, She crossed into a cabinet and pulled it open. After a moment of searching, she pulled down a small bottle. Checking the label, she returned to the ponies and knelt down, pouring a few drops of it into each of their mouthes. At first, nothing happened- -but then they awoke with a start.
“What- -what the hay was that?” cried Trixie, coughing. “It tastes like- -”
“Like ground pearl and moon sugar mixed with vinegar? Yeah, it’s a potion of dispel,” said Sunflower, standing up. As she did, she splashed some of it into Humph’s face.
“HEY!” he said, rubbing his eyes. “What was that for? I’m not stupefied!”
“Well, you could have fooled me! Now do you care to explain why there is a veritable swarm of wizards outside, and why I’m not in my cozy socks in bed right now?”
“They- -they tried to take me,” whispered Fluttershy as she quivered on the floor. “I’ve- -oh sweet Celestia, I’ve never been so scared…”
“Oh, Fluttershy…” Sunflower reached down to comfort her, but Fluttershy recoiled out of her grasp. Sunflower sighed, but looking visibly disappointed at Fluttershy’s obvious centaur fear, she pulled away. “Right,” she said as she started walking quickly toward her kitchen. “Firstly, are you all okay?”
“Fluttershy’s really shaken up,” said Sweetie Belle. “And I feel really bruised…but we’re okay.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Trixie, holding up her wand. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has a great and powerful wand now! I can totally take them!”
“Not likely,” said Sunflower. “And you?”
Humph pointed his wand at himself and cast a new set of clothes. “We got into a fight with a pretty nasty witch. I was about to flare her with a lumos spell but she hit me with some kind of spell. I think it was one of those stupefy ones, but somehow it misfired.”
“Or it just couldn’t do any more than what’s already been done.” Sunflower entered her kitchen and turned to the group. “You all need to get out of here. Whoever those guys are? They’re not going to play nice.” She reached to a high cabinet and pulled down three small glass bottles. “Dinklehuegen, get them to muggle territory. They won’t dare take the fight into a populated area like that.”
“Um, in case you haven’t noticed, ponies?”
“Polyjuice potion,” said Sunflower, pressing the vials into Humph’s grasp. “Optimized for equines. I don’t have any that’s safe for you, though.”
“Not a problem. I’ll just change into an animal.”
Sunflower’s jaw dropped slightly. “You- -you’re an unregistered animagus?”
“Registered? You have to be registered for that?”
“Of course you have to- -you know what? Never mind. Can you apirate?”
“What, you mean like Bon Scott?”
The whole room went silent. Then Sunflower regained at least part of her composure. “Apirate. Not aspirate you git. And that’s not even funny.”
“Oh. Then no. I can’t do that.”
Sunflower put her head into one of her hands and then turned toward a drawer beneath her immaculately clean granite countertop. She pulled the drawer out, slamming it hard enough to extend it even farther than it normally would. “Fine, then,” she said. “You go, I’ll hold them off. Rendezvous point is your summer home. Got that?”
“Wait!” said Sweetie Belle, jumping forward. “You can’t do that! They’re really tough, and you don’t even have a wand or- -”
Sunflower pulled a pair of large semiautomatic pistols out of the drawer, as well as a large rifle that she slung over her back.
“WHOA WHOA WHOA!” said Humph, jumping back. “You- -you can’t have guns! This is Britain! That’s against the law!”
“I’m a centaur. I don’t exactly need to follow muggle laws.” She attached a holster to herself and chambered a round in one of the pistols. “And don’t be a hypocrite. You have a magic stick in your pocket that can instakill anyone whenever you want. It only makes sense for a stunningly attractive single mare trained heavily in long-range marksmanship to have a way to defend herself. From a small army. Of Wizards.”
“But- -you shouldn’t hurt them!” said Fluttershy.
“Trixie disagrees,” said Trixie.
“Relax. They’re loaded with magic bullets.”
“Magic bullets?”
“Yes. The kind filled with lead azide.”
“But you’re a centaur, shouldn’t you be using a bow and arrow or something?” asked Humph.
Sunflower pistol-whipped him. “That’s racist! What’s next, you want to put a bit in my mouth and make me pull you on a carriage?”
“Um, I wouldn’t mind doing that, actually,” said Fluttershy.
“Besides. An arrow is way more brutal than a good .45.”
“But I don’t feel comfortable with this,” said Humph. “I don’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way for- -”
“Well, you should have thought about that before dragging your problems here.” Seeing the look of genuine concern on Humph’s face. “I’ll be fine. In fact, I get it. You need me. Because I’m the only competent person you know.”
Humph suddenly burst into tears and hugged Sunflower. “Oh sunflower!” he cried. “Thank you, thank you so much!”
“Get- -off,” she said, pushing him away. From across the house, the sound of someone knocking hard on the filled the air.
“Oi! Open up!” called a gruff voice from the other side.
Fluttershy squealed, and Sunflower stepped over her toward the door, drawing her pistols. “And it’s not just for you. I would be kicking myself if I let those adorable little ponies get hurt. Now get them to safety.”
“But- -”
“Just go, Humph.”
After a moment of hesitation, the knocking at the door got harder, and Humph obeyed. He and his pony friends escaped out the back door, retreating into the woods behind Sunflower’s house. They had not gotten more than one hundred feet when the sound of gunshots rang out, followed quickly by wizards screaming and the explosions of spells as they returned fire.
“She’s- -she’s going to be okay, right?” asked Sweetie Belle. “Right?”
“Of course,” said Humph. “Of course she is.”
They made their way deeper into the forest, and the gunshots continued but began to fade as they got more distant from Sunflower’s cottage. The rain how now mostly subsided into a drizzle, and though cloudy it was still a few hours away from complete sunset.
The wizards pursuing them seemed to have been distracted by Sunflower, and they had lost track of their original targets. Noticing this, Humph paused for a moment, crouching in some shrubbery. He looked around, trying to see if he saw signs of a wizard.
“What do you think they want with us?” squeaked Fluttershy.
“It’s best not to think about that,” said Humph.
“But- -but what if they want- -”
“He said not to think about it!” said Trixie, sounding extremely nervous as well. “I don’t want to think about it!”
“They’re probably going to try to eat us,” said Sweetie Belle.
“But I’m not tasty!” protested Fluttershy. “Not at all!”
“Oh, come on. Everyone knows you’re the most tender mare in all of Ponyville. I bet you’d taste amazing.”
“Eating ponies?” sneered Trixie. “Don’t be morbid. That’s just ridiculous.” She paused. “Why does Trixie’s rump suddenly feel so…strange?”
The group turned around and looked at Trixie’s rear. Behind her, a gray-skinned man with an absurdly long and pointy nose was gnawing on her flank.
“EEEEEEP!” squealed Trixie. She jumped around, trying to shake the man off, but he was apparently suctioned on to her cutie mark quite well. “Get it off get it off get it off! Trixie is not food! Humph, HELP he’s biting MEEEEE!”
“Eh, don’t worry,” said Humph. “He’ll never be able to break the skin. He’s the epitome of British dentistry.” He looked down at the man, and the man looked up at him- -or nearly did. Neither of his eyes faced the same direction. “Why are you doing that, Ivan?”
Ivan released Trixie and stood up suddenly. He was much taller than Humph, and looked even stranger standing up than sucking on a pony’s flank. His nose was at least as long as his head was tall, and his dopily smiling mouth was framed by a poorly shaved squares chin. He also seemed to be wearing some kind of trench coat. He smiled more broadly, and revealed that he had at most two teeth.
“Ivan is being attempting to taste the delicious richness of the unicorn blood!” he said with an almost indecipherably thick accent. He smacked his lips and frowned. It became immediately apparent that he had no eyebrows. “But right now, tastes like…fur. With hint of the blue berry.”
“The Great and Powerful Trixie is NOT blueberry flavored!” Trixie looked at the gum-marks on her butt. “And this had better not get infected.”
Ivan continued to smile for a moment, then suddenly furrowed his eybrowless brow. His nose began to sniff the air, and his mismatched eyes turned, peering into different directions into the woods.
“What is it?” asked Sweetie Belle, just as the sound of footsteps trampling through the bush became apparent.
“Ivan smells…CAPITALIST WRECKERS!”
He drew his wand, which was not so much a wand as it was an exorbitantly long cruciform bayonet in a wooden knife handle. “Подкаменная Тунгуска!” he cried, pointing the wand in their general direction. The atmosphere collapsed with a crack and then exploded in a detonation brighter than the sun. All the trees immediately near the blast radius were stripped of their leaves or knocked down. Humph grasped the ground next to Fluttershy, but Sweetie Belle was not fast enough. The force of the blast picked her up and threw her backward, knocking her into Trixie and taking the pair of them away. Ivan, meanwhile, remained standing and staring directly into the explosion and grinning contently.
When the explosion cleared, all that was left was flattened trees and the smoldering bodies of moaning wizards. There was no crater, oddly enough, but the destruction was substantial.
“Ivan loves the smell of radiation in the morning,” said Ivan. “It smells like reactor number four.”
“Aw, man,” said Humph. “I was going to put a hammock in those trees. And it’s evening.”
“Is always morning for Ivan,” said Ivan, pulling a labels glass bottle from his coat and taking a sip. He turned on his heel and started walking. “You come with Ivan now. You will be the safe from the wreckers at Ivan home.”
“Are you crazy?” said Trixie from where she landed.
“No. Am Ivan.”
Ivan’s home was, quite literally, a dump. It sat in a relatively steep-walled ravine where people had apparently been dumping trash for many years. Various muggle artifacts were strewn from the area above: old furniture, appliances of every shape and size, several rotted or charred mattresses, tires, steel frames of old cars, and a surprising number of toilets.
“You actually live here?” said Trixie, sticking her tongue out at a pile of leaking, rusted barrels.
“Indeed,” said Ivan. “Is good home. Nice view of river.”
“You mean this?” said Sweetie Belle, pointing at the oily, swampy creek that ran through the center of the ravine.
“Da,” said Ivan. “And there are being the great many things for Ivan to use!” he reached into a toilet that was filled with dirt and yanked out an anemic looking beet. He promptly took a bite of it. “Mmm…tastes like Lysenkoism…”
“So, what, you just live in a pile of scrap?” said Trixie, sarcastically.
“Niet,” said Ivan. “Ivan lives there.” He pointed at a building that could only be described as a pile of scrap. It was tiny, with tilting walls made of various porous pieces of old wood held together with tape and barely supporting its corroded tin roof.
“That’s where you live?” said Fluttershy, sounding like she pitied him a great deal.
“That’s disgusting!” gagged Trixie.
“Oh, yeah, says the pony that lives in a hobo cart.”
“It’s not a hobo cart! And at least it has a roof.”
“Roof is bourgeois,” said Ivan, shaking his head. “Plate of Soviet steel much better. When Soviet steel not available, bonnet of car work great much adequate.”
“That’s not the hood of a car,” said Humph.
“Ivan did not have the bonnet of the car,” shrugged Ivan.
A nearby toilet suddenly exploded, and Humph turned around to see wizards cresting the hill behind him.
“There they are!” he screamed, sending up a flare even though he was less than a mile from muggle neighborhoods. “Get them!”
“Collect the tiny horses and get into glorious house now!” said Ivan, sprinting into his shed. He slammed open the door, at which point it fell off. Sweetie Belle had been the closest to him and entered first, finding a room that had a dirt floor and a mattress in one corner that looked in worse condition than those that were outside the shack.
“This isn’t going to hold them off!” she cried, panicking.
“Is not being the problem,” said Ivan. He reached down and pulled a mouldened tarp off the floor, revealing a heavy steel hatch. He pulled it open, then picked Sweetie Belle up and tossed her in. Humph, meanwhile, grabbed Fluttershy- -who was now once again immobile with fear- -and leapt into the void.
“Trixie does not like this plan!” shouted Trixie as spells rebounded off Ivan’s shack.
“Tiny horse is free to be remaining with the wreckers,” suggested Ivan.
Trixie looked back at them, and then jumped down the hatch after her comrades. Ivan followed as well, closing the hatch behind him. Once inside, he pointed his bayoneted-wand at the metal. A complex runic symbol erupted on the rusted steel and shifted shape, locking it in place.
“There,” said Ivan, smiling. “Door is triple deadlock sealed. Even sonic-screwdriver man would be having the impossible to the getting of in, now. Ivan would know. Keeps foiling Ivan’s plans.”
“But what if they just cut through the door?” said Sweetie Belle. “You know, with magic?”
Ivan laughed. “Silly tiny horse! Outer surface of door is covered in genuine kosmolin! Is indestructible against any and all of the magics! And the rust!”
“Um, I don’t mean to be rude,” said Fluttershy, “and I do hate to interrupt, but…where are we?”
“I was about to ask the same thing,” said Humph. They appeared to be standing in a dark, moist cave dug into the rocky and trash-impregnated soil beneath Ivan’s shack. It was not by any means small, and the darkened tunnels seemed to go on forever.
“Is Ivan’s project,” said Ivan, beaming with pride. “Dig hole, make place to wait out impending nuclear annihilation, and emerge for Soviet victory and the glorious rise of global communism!”
“Um…you know the Soviet Union collapsed, like thirty years ago, right?”
Ivan laughed. “Silly not-Ivan! Always with the jokings! The Soviet Union can never be the falling! Is Soviet Union!”
“You know, my best friend used to be a communist,” said Trixie.
Ivan slapped her on the back hard enough to knock the wind out of her. “This is good thing, then!”
Sweetie Belle looked up at the hatch. She could hear distant thumping as the wizards tried to get in, and cries of pain as their spells rebounded off the cosmoline coating and back toward them. “But if the door’s closed, how are we supposed to get out now? I don’t want to live down here forever! It’s so…dirty.”
“Not to worry,” said Ivan. “Ivan is having a portkey in basement. It is being leading to the Ivan’s automobile. You can borrow.”
“Really? I can borrow the Ivanmobile?”
“Would Ivan lie to you?”
“Yes. You tend to do that. A lot.”
Ivan just laughed and raised his wand. The tip ignited with a bright red glow, and he started to walk into the darkness. The others followed, having no other option.
The hole, though, got at least slightly more advanced as it got deeper. Lower levels were reinforced with poorly hardened concrete and sometimes cinderblocks combined inelegantly with stones to form primitive masonry. Hand-drawn propaganda hung in a number of places, and it was quite apparent that Ivan lived down here like some manner of humanoid potato.
Then, from the darkness, something suddenly bounded forward. Trixie screamed and jumped into Humph’s arms. “WHAT IS THAT THING?”
The creature came into Ivan’s light. “Ibin home! Ibin home!” it said, overjoyed. Ivan smiled and reached down, picking it up. It was roughly the size of a soccer ball, but less spherical and covered in thick brown fuzz. It was roughly animal like, but really more of resembled an enormous talking kiwi fruit.
“Aww,” said Sweetie Belle. “Look, Fluttershy, Ivan has a pet. Isn’t that- -”
“That thing is an abomination,” said Fluttershy, darkly and without hesitation. “It is a crime against all animal life. Why would you even let that touch you?”
“No am abomination! Am Kiwi!”
“This is being Ivan’s familiar,” said Ivan. “Is being some manner of vegetable. Or so Ivan thinks.”
“Yu hab pwetty wingies,” said Kiwi, his eyes growing as he looked at Fluttershy. “Be nyu fwend?”
Ivan laughed, and removed yet another glass bottle from his coat. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a sip.
“What is that?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Is Ibin’s potion,” said Kiwi.
“Indeed,” said Ivan. “Potion makes Ivan strong.”
“Are you a hundred percent sure you’re actually a wizard?” asked Trixie, still holding on to Humph.
Ivan became highly serious. He took several large steps forward toward a rolled-up curtain poster on the wall. He pulled the metal ring at the bottom, and the ponies- -and Humph- -gathered around to look.
“Have the looking at Ivan’s family tree,” said Ivan, proudly, pointing at the chart.
The ponies took a long look at it. “Ah,” said Sweetie Belle. “So…it’s a palm tree.”
“Yes! Ivan is son of Ivan Ivanovich, who his himself son of Ivan Ivanovich before him, and Ivan Ivanovich before even him, going all the way back to Ivan Ivanovich! Ivan is purest pure blood wizard in the existence!” He beamed, with both of his eyes still facing opposite directions.
“Clearly,” said Trixie. “Trust me, that’s MORE than apparent from looking at you.”
“Da! Thank you, tiny horse! Ivan even attended the Institute of the Durmstrang when was only little Ivan! Well, until they kick Ivan out. Mostly, had been living in snowbank outside and wandered inside one day.” Ivan laughed. “But if got more education than that, Ivan would not be being the proletariat anymore!”
“Ibin am bestes wizud EBUH!” proclaimed Kiwi.
“Ivan is being wizard!” said Ivan, raising his bottle of potion high and taking yet another sip. He then blinked. “Now what was Ivan doing?”
“Taking us to the portkey. In your basement.”
“Ivan has basement? Since when?”
“Um…since you dug it?”
“Oh. Oh! Yes, it is being this way, in the lower levels.”
The complex was immensely deep and immensely poor in structure. In some places, the ceiling was held up by sticks. In others, it was held up by two sticks held together with duct tape. The entire place seemed constantly on the verge of collapse, and Ivan seemed completely oblivious to this fact.
That was until they got to the final level. As soon as they approached the large, rusted blast door to that section, Ivan’s demeanor changed. His expression got more steely, and he stopped talking.
“What’s wrong?” said Humph.
“Nothing,” said Ivan, pointing his wand at the door. The handle spun, and it creaked as it opened. “Nothing at all.”
The room on the other side was slightly cavernous, with oddly square walls something like a narrow concrete beam running through the center. On either side was a pool of black-looking water. Ivan’s light did not illuminate the dirty water terribly well, and his red-colored lumous charm did not reach the edges of the room.
The first thing Sweetie Belle noticed as she entered was a profound feeling of cold. Not normal cold, like on a snowy winter day. It was a different kind of cold, one that went much deeper, into her bones. She shivered, but it only grew worse.
Something moved in the darkness beyond Ivan’s wandlight. Sweetie Belle screamed, jumping behind Fluttershy, who was for some reason extremely calm. A dark, cloaked figure drifted silently past- -and then another- -and then more.
Sweetie Belle wanted to ask what those horrible, dead-looking things were, but instead a different question came out. “Why…why do I feel so bad?”
“Trixie…Trixie feels it too,” said Trixie, her voice catching. “Like…all the humiliation, the bullying, the constant lonliness and anger, like it’s all coming back to me all at once.”
“It’s like how afraid I was before I got my cutie mark, that I’d never find my destiny, that I’d never be able to be a real pony…and how I felt when they made fun of me…”
The dark emotions only became precipitously worse.
“They are dementors,” said Ivan, his voice calm and measured. “A great many live down here. Propagate, as rot. They feed on happiness.”
“Huuhuuu,” muttered Kiwi. “Wowsest heawt-huwties…”
“How- -how do you deal with this?” said Sweetie Belle, collapsing from the emotional pain as the dark figures suddenly seemed to grow closer, as if they could see her sudden torment.
Ivan stopped. “Ivan is Soviet. Am used to it.” He took a long swig from his bottle of potion. “Have learned to cope.”
“And what about you?” said Trixie, also collapsing but looking up at Humph and Fluttershy. “How…”
“I don’t know,” said Humph, shrugging. “I don’t feel anything. They’re just sort of…there.”
“Neither do I,” said Fluttershy. “Not a thing. At least not pain…” Her mouth turned up into a tiny but entirely genuine smile. “Defiantly not pain…”
The dementors started to come closer. Sweetie Belle knew something was wrong. They were sensing her and Trixie, and they were becoming increasingly agitated. Within Ivan’s light, she could count at least thirty of them- -and then fifty. The entire room was infested.
She realized that she was starting to black out. Every good emotion she had ever felt was leaving her, and she found herself wanting to sleep. To leave the world behind. There was no point in persisting in something so painful.
Then she focused on one single memory. The one that they would never take from her, from the day she had first gotten her cutie mark with her two best friends.
“E…Expecto PATRONUM!” she cried.
Her horn ignited with silver light, and something luminescent leapt forth from her. It’s silvery form bounded out onto the concrete bridge, and its light forced the dementors away. The oppressive sensation of their presence lessened, and Sweetie Belle stood up.
Humph was gawking. “Sweetie Belle, you just- -you just cast a patronus!”
“Yeah,” said Sweetie Belle, rubbing her head. “It was in one of the books…I didn’t think it actually had a practical purpose. She shook her head, clearing the lingering depression, and looked at the magical construct before her. It turned around and its tiny useless wings fluttered as it smiled.
“Um…Sweetie Belle?” said Fluttershy. “Why does it look like Scootaloo?”
Sweetie Belle realized that it did. It was almost an exact copy of her friend in silver instead of orange. Her face scrunched. “No reason.”
“Is it weird that a pony’s patronus is a different kind of pony?” asked Humph.
No one answered. Then, all at once: “No, that’s totally normal.”
Ivan continued on his way, with patronus-Scootaloo walking beside him to ward off the now peeved creatures still following them silently. Beyond the pool of water, the room started to slope slightly and split off into a number of smaller rooms lit with electric lights. Some of them seemed to be used for storage, and one apparently contained the distillation equipment for Ivan’s potionmaking.
At last, they were led to the final room containing the portkey. They stopped and looked up at it.
“Oh my,” said Fluttershy.
“Is that what I think it is?” said Sweetie Belle.
“No! No, definitely not!” said Fluttershy, covering the younger pony’s eyes.
“You are liking?” said Ivan. “Ivan had surplus wood, and carved it himself. Was protest, Ivan thinks, but cannot remember for what.” He shrugged. “Or Ivan had too much potion.”
“Eh,” said Trixie. “Trixie is not impressed.”
“How does it work?” asked Fluttershy.
Ivan smiled. “You just touch it.”
“Eew, no!” said Trixie. “Trixie is not touching an enormous wooden- -”
The ceiling suddenly shook, and several pebbles started falling down. Ivan looked up. “Hmm,” he said, calmly. “It seems they are being have had breached the perimeter.”
“What- -but you said the door was indestructible!” cried Trixie.
“Dey must hab mewted de kosmowine!” cried Kiwi.
“It MELTS?”
“How are you thinking Ivan got it on the door? Of course it melts.” An expression of realization came over his face. “Ohhh…that is probably not being best of security measure, is it?”
“What do we do?” said Sweetie Belle.
“What? Is simple, no? You take portkey. Ivan and Kiwi defend the Motherland.” Ivan nodded, and Kiwi leapt of his shoulder and scampered down the hall.
“Ivan, are you sure?”
Ivan slapped Humph on the back, and then grabbed the collar of his shirt with a deadly serious expression on his face. “The capitalists have come to undermine Ivan’s Glorious Revolution. Ivan has never been being more sure of anything since someone asked ‘more potion, Ivan?’” Having mentioned his potion, Ivan took another sip, and then started walking off.
“Meet me at my summer home!” called Humph.
Ivan looked up at the ceiling, stroking his squarish chin. “The wind conditions are being potentially favorable. If trajectory is high…da. Ivan sees what Ivan can do.” He then disappeared into the hallways, drawing his wand and lighting his path as he left.
“We can’t leave him,” said Sweetie Belle. “He just can’t! Not after Sunflower, we can’t- -hey, what are you doing?!”
Humph picked her up and held her over his head. “Saving your life!”
He brought her down and tapped her against the tip of the portkey while the other two touched the base. Space distorted ,and they flew off to the portkey’s destination.
They materialized somewhere else, in a place that Humph quickly realized was a stand of trees attached to a dirt road that he knew connected to the muggle part of town. To his left was Ivan’s car- -a beat up, rusted out knockoff Yugo.
“Get in,” said Humph, pointing at the car.
“Trixie is NOT getting in that thing,” said Trixie. “The ones in his front yard looked safer than- -”
Humph threw open the door and shoved her and the other ponies inside. He then took the passenger seat.
“What’s that smell?” said Sweetie Belle, holding her nose as she sunk into the moist, torn seat and a number of small insects fled from her weight.
“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” said Fluttershy.
“Seatbelts!” said Humph, attaching his own. “You’re going to need them!”
“Do you know how to drive this thing?” said Trixie.
“What? No, of course not. I’m a wizard, I don’t know how to drive a car.” He pointed at the empty driver seat. “That’s why I’m not over there.”
Trixie gaped. “Then how the HAY are we supposed to get out of here?!”
Humph smiled. “You forget, this is Ivan’s car.” The vehicle shuddered as its engine hummed to life. “It’s Soviet. And in Soviet Russia, car drive YOU!”
“SECTUMSEMPRA!”
Ivan was thrown back into a bookcase filled with musty, ancient tomes. He was already battered from having absorbed direct, unblocked hits from numerous spells of every type imaginable. He was bruised and battered, but this was the first time he had actually fallen down.
The wizard commander approached, standing over Ivan. Beside him were several other wizards, with one seeming to be a troll of some kind who was grinning viciously.
“What is that smell?” said the ranking wizard. “And what- -why aren’t you bleeding?!”
Ivan reached up and touched his face. He pulled away his hand to see a waxy fluid seeping from his wounds. “Ah. Ivan has followed the example of Comrade Lenin and replaced all blood with the kosmolin. Ivan does not bleed. Is very best antioxidant.”
“You don’t bleed, eh?” the wizard smirked. “Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t crush every bone in your body.” He raised his wand. “Deletrius!” A surge of energy struck Ivan in the chest. He was knocked back once again into the bookcase, with the wind knocked out of him. “That was a weak one. The next one takes your torso off. Got that? Now tell me, you reject, WHERE ARE THE PONIES?”
Ivan smiled, and then turned his head and spat. “Ivan will never betray friends to the capitalist horde.”
“Then you’re not any use to me. Delet- -“
“Ibin!” squeaked Kiwi from the top of the shelf. “Quick! Take yu potion!” The tiny animal kicked two enormous gallon-size bottles completely filled with the clear fluid down off the top of the bookcase. The wizards watched in confusion, and Ivan shot up, grabbing one bottle in each hand. He lifted them both to his mouth and with three long gulps drained them completely. He then threw them to the floor on either side, shattering them.
“What the heck did you just- -DELETRIUS!”
Ivan backhanded the incoming spell, deflecting it and causing it to fly into the chest of one of the several attacking wizards, sending him flying backward with a cry.
“What the- -Blorg! Smash!”
The troll laughed stupidly and stepped forward, his head scraping againt the dirt above. He had a wand, but instead chose to use his fists. As his enormous fist came in, Ivan caught it, stopping the troll in his tracks. He then slung him through a cinderblock wall.
“Potion make Ivan STRONG!” he screamed as he tore off his shirt.
“Holy nuggets!” cried one of the wizards. “Shirtless Soviet! SHIRTLESS SOVIET! I’m too young to die!!” He and several others promptly sprinted off.
Kiwi jumped down into Ivan’s grasp, and Ivan tapped his wand against the creature, transfiguring it into a fuzzy ushanka hat. His eyes were now narrowed into tiny black points, and both were facing the same direction. He began to walk toward the wizards.
“Don’t- -don’t just stand there!” said their leader, his eyes focused on Ivan’s bayoneted-wand. “STOP HIM!”
All of their wands ignited, but Ivan was barely slowed. Stupification spells, paralysis spells, they just rebounded off his gray, cosmoline-enhanced flesh.
“Fine,” said the leader. “Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” He raised his wand. “Avada Ked- -”
Ivan reached out and crushed the wizard’s wand, causing it to fizzle and spark as it died.
“This is why a proper wand is made of Soviet steel,” whispered Ivan, raising his own wand. The wizard paniced, and tried to run away- -only to find that Ivan was holding his hand too tightly to escape.
Ivan leaned forward and pointed his wand at the wizard. Then, gently, he spoke the name of Kuzma’s mother.
The Yugo was already drive erratically when the shockwave hit. It picked up the rear end and nearly turned the car over, bathing it in intense white light. The car quickly compensated, though, with its wheel cutting to the side. Humph gripped the so-called “Jesus-handle” even tighter, even though his deathgrip had long-since severed if from the place where it was taped on.
He looked behind them and saw an enormous mushroom cloud rising from where Ivan’s home must have been.
“What was that?!” cried Fluttershy.
“Kuzma’s mother,” said Humph. He turned back to the road- -only to see a person standing directly in the center of the road and directly in their path.
He cried out- -as if the car would actually listen- -but being Soviet, it did not stop or slow. The girl did not seem to care much, either. She just stood there, her hands in her coat pockets, until the car had almost reached here- -at which point she raised one foot and slammed it down onto the hood.
The car stopped instantly, and Humph was thrown forward. He was disoriented for a moment, but when he regained what little sense he had, he saw the girl still standing there. She was young, possibly fifteen, and Asian- -and her foot was imbedded in where the Yugo’s engine had just been.
“Oh, my head,” said Trixie. “I think Trixie has the whiplash.”
“This is why we wear the seatbelts,” said Humph.
“Oi,” said the girl, her voice muffled through the windshield. “You gonna get out of there or what?”
Humph could immediately tell from her accent that she was profoundly Scottish. That made him nervous, because his knowledge of the Scot language was limited at best.
“I think she wants us to get out of the car,” he said. “That, or haggis. I have no idea. Either way, I’m getting out.”
“Humph, don’t!” said Fluttershy.
“Oh, come one. She’s just a kid.”
“A kid who just stopped a car going at top speed with her foot,” added Trixie.
“It’s a Yugo. In all fairness, it wasn’t going very fast. Just be glad it wasn’t a Pinto, we’d probably be toast by now.”
Humph opened his door- -or rather, caused it to fall off- -and stepped out. The ponies hesitated, but followed him as well.
“There you are,” said the girl, pulling her foot out of the wreck. She was quite obviously associated with the other wizards, even though she was just wearing a long black coat instead of armor and a mask. “Right. Last chance, dude. Hand over those unicorns, or…well…if you’re as stupid as you look, you’ll find out right quick.”
Humph took a second to translate her Scottish into English, and then responded. “I assure you, there is no haggis here. Also, these ponies are sentient creatures. I can’t just ‘hand them over’. They have free will. I mean,” he turned around, “if you guys want to go with her, you can.”
“I’m not a unicorn,” noted Fluttershy. “And, if I might be so impolite as to be assertive, I say- -HAY NO.”
“Go through all of that just to lose?” said Sweetie Belle. “No way!”
“I say fight her,” said Trixie, brandishing her wand. “I need more wands anyway!”
The girl smiled and stepped back down the dirt road slightly. “I love it when they resist.”
She pulled her hands out of her pockets and spread her arms. Then they suddenly shifted, pulling back at an impossible angle, and her body began to distort. Her size increased exponentially, and her formerly pale Scottish skin became dark and scaly, then fully armored. Her face drew out into an enormous snout, and her mouth became wide and full of teeth. In less than fifteen seconds, she had grown almost fifty times her previous size into a fully adult dragon.
“A dagron animagus,” said Humph, in awe as the dragon stepped forward toward him, screaming with a plume of fire as she spread her wings. Then Humph laughed. “Oh, this is going to be fun!” He raised his wand, but was promptly crushed by the creature’s foot. Sweetie Belle barely managed to shove Fluttershy out of the way, and Trixie jumped the other way, assisting her motion instinctively using her wand.
The dragon ground Humph into the ground, and then pulled its foot back. Humph stood up from the footprint, apparently undamaged. “Oh yeah?” he said, sounding disorientated. “Well just wait until I…” He raised his wand, and the front end dangled by a thread from the back. “Oh,” he said. “Wand broken…well then…”
He threw the wand down, and then spontaneously tore off all his clothing in a single motion. “Well, if you want it that way, I’m going to go full Angus McFife on your scaly dagron REAR!” At that point, with no wand and no clothing apart from his leopard- print underwear, he charged the dragon.
Sweetie Belle watched as he latched onto its foot, and as the creature took flight. This was terrifying, but somehow more amazing than anything she had ever seen. The only dragon she had ever seen personally was Spike, and he was smaller than her and completely non-threating. This dragon looked way more awesome.
Still, this was not good, and Sweetie Belle started to shake Fluttershy, who was now cowering on the open ground, her face covered with her hooves as she shook in fright.
“A dragon,” she moaned. “Why did it have to be a dragon?”
“Fluttershy! Come on! Pull yourself together!”
“Can’t! Dragon! Giant, enormous, fire-breathing, pony-eating dragon.”
“But you already defeated a dragon once!” chided Sweetie Belle. “Rarity told me so!”
“But that was different- -that was a tired, sleepy dragon. This one- -this one actually hates us! We’re done for I- -I’m too afraid!”
“Well then tell me how to stop it!”
“I- -I don’t know! I DON’T KNOW! All I did was yell at it!” She then broke down into tears and sobbing that made whatever else she was saying- -if anything at all- -completely uninterpretable.
“Yell at it,” said Sweetie Belle to herself. An idea occurred to her, a spell from an extremely ancient and dusty book in a nearly unreadable language that Humph had been using as a doorstop.
Sweetie Belle turned to the dragon, which was now high in the air and turning to come down toward them. She wanted to run, but instead took a deep breath, filling her disproportionately large lungs with air. Then, just as it got in range, she yelled at it.
“JOOR’ZAH-FRUL!” she screamed at her highest possible volume. As soon as the spell left her, her already incredible singer’s voice spread out from her in a surge of blue magic, gathering momentum as it raced toward the dragon. The dragon seemed confused, but it was too close to dodge. The spell hit it, causing it to twist in the air as its wings contorted and tore. It flapped futilely, but then spiraled into the ground.
“YEAH!” cried Humph, who suddenly appeared on the thrashing creature’s neck, straddling it and trying to ride it. He looked like a speck against spikes and scales, but somehow he was holding on even as the dragon got more aggressive in its incapacitated state.
Sweetie Belle collapsed to her knees. Whatever kind of spell she had just used, it had drained almost all of her magical energy.
“Trixie!” she called. “I can’t- -I can’t do another spell!”
“Then- -then what am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, just do SOMETHING!”
Trixie looked up at the creature nervously. She only knew two, three spells tops, and none of them would be even remotely effective against a dragon or really anything at all that she was either not trying to levitate or draw toward her. So she said the first random thing that came to her mind.
“Herpicus Derpicus!” she shouted.
Something shot out of her wand. Whatever it was spiraled toward the dragon and struck it in the head. At first there was no response. There was no explosion or surge of light, and Trixie momentarally paniced- -but then she saw the dragon slow, and its eyes start to look in different directions. As that happened, it started to shrink, turning back into a human.
Once it was reasonably close to being a girl again, it started screaming.
“What- -what did you do to me?!” she screamed. “My brain- -I can’t- -why can’t I THINK? I’ve been ADDLED!”
The then collapsed, derping hardcore on the dirt road as Humph sat on her shoulders.
“Woo!” he said, raising his fists into the air. “Trixie, you just defeated the dagron!”
“I- -I did? I mean, of course I did!”
“Trixie, that was epic!” said Sweetie Belle, limping her way toward the other pony. “How did you know how to do a spell like that?”
“Well, the Great and Powerful Trixie is both great and powerful, so it simply came to her!”
“Excuse me,” said Fluttershy, inching toward the others. “I hate to be a buzzkill. I really do. I’m so, so sorry, but- -”
“Just spit it out already!” said Trixie. “Or Trixie might have a mind to derp you too!”
“Um…oh…please don’t threaten me, it’s just that…I think the dragon girl was a distraction.”
Humph looked up to see that they were now surrounded by wizards. Most of them were hardly in any condition to fight. Some were charred or slightly singed, and others were limping or holding onto each other. One was scratching himself with great vigor. Worst of all, they had completely surrounded the group.
“Oh crap,” said Humph. He got off the semi-comatose dragon girl and held the ponies close. “Well, I didn’t want to do this, but I’m going to aspirate us.”
“Aspirate, what does that even- -”
“You’re going to want to hold your breath. The last time I tried this, I ended up in an industrial vat of pudding. I’m pretty sure I still smell like tapioca.”
“Wait, what- -”
Humph took an enormous breath, and then space warped as he pulled the three ponies and himself out of danger and off toward somewhere else.
Author's Note
For those of you who don't recognize him, Ivan is a kind of mini-crossover. He's a character from a very different (but oddly similar, for some reason...) part of the internet.
Remember, he's a caricature of SOVIETS, not Russians. Or else this would probably be super offensive.
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 9: The Muggle World
When Humph disapperated, he dropped several inches onto moist ground. He immediately felt nauseous, and from the looks on their faces, so did his passengers.
“What the hay was that?” cried Trixie.
“I aspirated,” said Humph. He looked around. They were standing on the side of a muddy swamp, surrounded by ominous trees covered in Spanish moss. “Which means I teleported us.”
“To where?” asked Fluttershy.
“Not sure,” said Humph. “I learned the part about leaving, but never the part about arriving to anywhere specific.” Several large insects floated by his head. “Well, at least it’s not Detroit.”
A banjo sounded from the distance.
“Well, that’s not good,” said Humph.
The bushes behind him rustled, and a man in dirty overalls stuck his head out of the shrubbery.
“Them’s some might pretty horses you’ve got there,” he said, smiling as he looked at Fluttershy’s tail.
Humph and the ponies screamed and grabbed each other, apirating yet again to elsewhere. The man in the bushes watched, and then looked disappointed. “Why do all the pretty ones always go and tel’port away from me?”
They emerged from intermediate apiration space again, this time in an empty building.
“Where are we now?” asked Fluttershy.
Humph’s eyes widened. “Oh no! Could it be? Is this- -DETROIT? Or worse- -CLEAVELAND?” He sniffed several times, then seemed to calm down. “Nope. It’s Liverpool.” Fluttershy burst into tears.
“So, what now?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Liverpool is muggle territory,” said Humph. “So…that’s good. They wouldn’t dare follow us in here.”
“What’s a muggle?”
“A human who can’t use magic. They outnumber wizards one to ten thousand, have profoundly more advanced technology, economic capacity, socially advanced society, and weapons that make even the worst of wizard curses look like a stiff breeze. Also, they’re not allowed to know about wizards or magical creatures. For some reason.”
“So, basically the earth ponies of the human race?” said Sweetie Belle.
“I don’t know what that is, but yes.”
“It sounds terrifying,” said Fluttershy. “I don’t want to go!”
“Well, we have to. I have a second home, and we need to get there. There’s no way I can aspirate us, because I’m as liable to put us on the moon as I am to actually get us anywhere useful. I materialized inside a wall once. I think I died.”
“But then how are we going to get there?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“The bus.”
“Oh…”
“But first, we need to be disguised. Here.” He produced the three bottles of polyjuice potion. “Drink these. It will make you look human.”
“Is it safe?” said Sweetie Belle, levitating a bottle toward her with her horn.
“Sunflower doesn’t make bad potions. She isn’t, well, me. Trust me, she’s been making this stuff since she was an adorable little filly. She uses it every time she wants to go anywhere where there are muggles or wizards.”
“Being a centaur? Yeah, I could see that,” said Trixie, opening her bottle and drinking it. She immediately nearly coughed it back up. “Oh sweet Luna’s German shepherd hips! That is DISGUSTING!”
Fluttershy took a sip and smacked her lips. “Why does it taste like goblin urine?”
Humph shrugged. “I think it’s an ingredient.”
Sweetie Belle looked at the other two, clearly not wanting to drink the foul solution, but peer pressure eventually overcame her better judgement and she took a swig.
They just stood there for a moment, and Humph wondered if it was actually working. Then they all collapsed on the ground and started screaming.
“Don’t worry, that’s normal!” cried Humph over the noise.
“But it feels so WEIRD!”
Their bodies began to shift. Their muzzles became shorter and their ears less pointy. Their torsos reconfigured, and their legs extended as their coats retracted back into their bodies. Humph watched, slightly grossed out by their bizarre half-horse intermediate step. It took less than a minute to complete, though, and after all the joint cracking and complaining stopped, the three stood up from the floor- -and each promptly fell right back down.
The polyjuice potion had indeed worked, providing each of them with a human form represented from Sunflower’s library of hundreds if not thousands of genetic samples. Sweetie Belle had been rendered as a young dark-skinned girl with silvery hair, and Trixie as a sharp-featured middle-aged woman with extremely dark eyes and black hair. Fluttershy, meanwhile, had been converted into a tall, thin woman with soft eyes and strawberry blonde hair.
Humph looked at them- -and then, after several seconds, realized that something was wrong. “GAH!” he cried, slapping his hand over his eyes. “CLOTHES! I forgot the CLOTHES!”
“Trixie still has a cape and hat,” said Trixie.
“That does not count! In fact, that makes it WORSE!”
“Oh dear!” cried Fluttershy, covering herself with her newfound hands. “I’m naked- -in public! It’s my worst fear ever!”
“Fluttershy, you’re always naked in public,” said Sweetie Belle. “And with a body like that? I’d hardly be ashamed.” She looked down at her own. “I mean, look at me. I totally dig the color, but why did I end up looking like a kid? Does that mean Sunflower keeps a bottle of potion that makes her look like an eleven-year-old, or did I just go to my actual age? I mean, Trixie clearly did.”
“Hey! Trixie is not actually this old!”
“Still super awkward!” cried Humph. “Put some clothes on! I can’t- -this is so WRONG!”
“Look who’s talking,” said Sweetie Belle, noting the fact that Humph was still in his underwear. She sighed. “Hold on, I’ll cast a clothing spell.” She leaned forward, making a face, but no magic came out. Her eyes widened. “What?” She reached up suddenly to her forehead. “M- -my horn!” she squealed. “It’s GONE!”
“Humans don’t exactly have horns,” said Trixie. “Though, looking at Humph right now…”
“I’ve been UNHORNED! I- -I’m like an earth pony!”
“It’s not that bad,” said Fluttershy.
“Oh yeah? Tell that to your wings!”
Fluttershy turned around and lifted her hair. The polyjuice potion had not compensated entirely for them, and she still had a pair- -they were just extremely tiny. “Oh my,” she said, her inch-long wings fluttersing from her back. “Well…I suppose I can relate better to how Scootaloo feels now.”
“I can’t do magic without my horn!” cried Sweetie Belle.
“And my wand got totally pwnt!” said Humph, still covering his eyes.
“Trixie’s wand didn’t,” said Trixie, pulling hers out of her hat. “Trixie can do the spell.”
“Great,” said Sweetie Belle. She took a breath. “I have confidence in you, though, Trixie.” She then told her how to perform the spell.
Trixie pointed the wand at Fluttershy, who squealed and tried to escape. She was unable to, though, and Trixie shot a bolt of pale yellow energy at her. Fashionable blazer, olive skirt, and a pair of leggings and boots appeared over her body. Trixie then pointed the wand at herself, giving herself a set of black jeans and a blue blouse but keeping her cape and hat. She then fired at Sweetie Belle, whose body was immediately covered in a skirt and midriff-exposing T-shirt.
“Awesome!” said Sweetie Belle.
“Woops,” said Trixie. She shot again, and the shirt expanded to cover Sweetie Belle’s entire torso while her skirt expanded to mid-calf.
“Aww,” said Sweetie Belle, disappointed.
“Your turn, Humph,” said Trixie.
“Not necessary,” said Humph. “It wouldn’t help anyway. Just because they’re not going to go all-out on us doesn’t mean they’re not going to be looking for us. And they already know what I look like.”
“Then…what?”
“This.”
Humph’s body shifted shape, and he began to shrink. His body rapidly condensed until he was on all fours, and he resolved into a dog-like creature with a long tail and a striped back and rear.
“What the hay is that supposed to be?” said Trixie.
“Oh. My. GERSH!” cried Fluttershy, grabbing both Trixie and Sweetie Belle and literally throwing them out of her way. “That’s- -that’s a thylacine! You turned into a thylacine!”
Humph, now as an animal, smiled and leapt forward into Fluttershy’s arms and began to lick her face. “Oh, stop! You’re just so adorable!”
“What’s a thylacine?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“They are super-rare predatory marsupials in Equestria,” explained Fluttershy. “They were almost extinct, but through careful conservation efforts we were able to bring them back to a healthy population! I can only assume that they’re commonplace in this word! No one will ever even know he’s out of the ordinary!”
And, as far as they knew, they were completely normal and blended in perfectly. Two woman and one young girl who clearly had never walked on two legs in their entire life, with one wearing a wizard hat and cape, walking down a Liverpool sidewalk with a thylacine.
“Oh dear!” said Fluttershy, nearly falling over as she tried to balance. “I though Twilight was joking when she said how hard this was! Oh dear, oh my!”
“Ha!” said Trixie, managing to walk semi-competently. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is better at walking than any purple alicorn ever will be!”
Several passing people stared at her as she shouted that particular line, but they largely continued on their way.
“There’s so many people!” noted Sweetie Belle.
“I know!” said Fluttershy. “I’m so afraid! Why are they all looking at me?”
“Frankly?” said Trixie. “You totally lucked out on the potion draw there. Even Trixie think’s your totally hot. For a human, anyway.”
“Eep!” squeaked Fluttershy, closing her arms over her chest. “I’m not hot, I’m Fluttershy!”
A passing woman suddenly bumped into her, and she would have fallen if Humph had not reared on his hind legs to steady her from behind.
“Oi, watch it!” said a greasy, long haired woman with a heavy French accent. She was walking with a tall disinfested blonde man, and both had striking blue eyes. “You little- -I’m gonna EAT YOU!”
“Noooo! Don’t eat me! I’m not delicious! I’m not delicious at all!”
“We’re sorry,” said Sweetie Belle, stepping forward. “We’re not from around here. Can you tell us where the nearest bus station is.”
“Bus? Yeah,” said the man, his accent American. “It’s that way about five blocks. If you wait an extra hour, you can get one of those neat two-deckers. Or the ones with the bend in the middle.”
“I’m about to bend her in the middle!” said the woman, lunging at Fluttershy. “And your little dog too!”
The man put his hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Bob,” he said as he lead her away. “This is Britain, remember? You’re not even allowed to be here.”
“Fine,” she muttered as she allowed herself to be led off.
“M- -muggles are scary!” said Fluttershy, on the verge of tears. “I don’t like it here!”
“Well, the wizards are worse,” said Sweetie Belle, quietly pointing to a space where several robed figures appeared out of an alley. They were quite blatantly wizards, but seemed not to realize it.
Humph looked back at them, but then started walking in the opposite direction quickly. The others looked back and followed him.
“How did they find us?” muttered Sweetie Belle.
“How am I supposed to know?!” retorted Trixie. “Just keep walking.”
“That’s easier said than done!”
They continued to stumble down the street, taking a minor detour to duck out of sight of the wizards. They thought they were in the clear when a voice called out from behind them.
“Oi!” said a gruff voice. The group froze, and turned around, expecting to see a wizard bearing down on them. Instead, they saw a man in a fluorescent chartreuse vest and a silly hat towering over them. “Stop right there! Police!”
“Uh…we’re already stopped,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Don’t you talk back to me, I am the Law!” He pointed at Humph, who was currently urinating on a fire hydrant. “I got reports of a dog walking around without a leash? And what do I find? A dog without a leash!”
“Oh my,” said Fluttershy, picking Humph up and hugging him under his armpits. His tail started to wag. “We’re so sorry! But just look at him! He wouldn’t do anything bad at all!”
“It’s still against the law! And…wait a minute…” a slow realization crossed his face. “I don’t think that’s a dog at all! Mi instincts are telling me its- -a WILD ANIMAL! And that’s against the law!”
“But you are the law, aren’t you?” said Sweetie Belle sarcastically. “So, just change yourself or something.”
The man glared at her. “You’re a bit less pale than we normally see around here, aren’t ya?”
“Excuse me?”
“And them two don’t look like your mother, soooo…” He pulled out a nightstick. “British police aren’t allowed to carry guns, so I guess it’s beating time!”
Trixie slipped her wand into her palm and fired a bolt of pale white energy at the man. It struck him, and his eyes widened as he dropped his club.
“Sweet mother of Mary’s mother, also named Mary! I’m late for my proctorological examination! I have to get to my dentist, right NOW!” He promptly sprinted off, shouting to the sky. “Doctor Granger! Doctor Granger! Don’t worry, I’m coming!”
“What did you just do?” said Sweetie Belle.
“I don’t know,” said Trixie. “But whatever it was, it worked. I think.”
They made it to the bus without incident. Getting on it, though, was more difficult. Trixie fell of the stares at least three times, and Sweetie Belle twice. Then they quickly found out that they had no money, and that they were not allowed to bring a “dog” onto the bus with them. With hardly any effort, though, Fluttershy managed to convince the driver to let them ride for free, in part because the driver’s eyes never left her chest as she acted demure and otherwise adorable.
The ride itself was long, though. Humph spent most of it with his head out the window, clearly pretending- -or not pretending at all- -to be a dog, even though he was actually a marsupial. Fluttershy eventually fell asleep hugging him, while Sweetie Belle listed spells from memory and tried to get Trixie to learn them.
It was quite a long time before the breaks of the bus hissed and it came to its final stop. Fluttershy awoke with a start, and Sweetie Belle and Trixie looked out the windows only to see that they had long since passed civilization. In fact, they had long since passed the countryside. They were deep in the deepest deaths of the moors.
“This is worse than the creepy swamp,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Not really,” said Humph. They all turned to him, seeing that he was now sitting in the bus seat as a human, with Fluttershy still hugging him. “There’s no banjos here.”
“It’s not exactly the banjo that makes it scary,” said Trixie.
“Oh yes it is,” said Fluttershy, hugging Humph tighter.
They left the bus and started walking down a dirt path as the bus trundled off toward Liverpool or wherever it was going. The sun was just starting to rise, and the grassy land was cool and misty.
“Is this place safe?” asked Trixie, looking around.
“As safe as a moor can be,” said Humph. “Don’t worry. This is as far away from anything as you can get short of Butte Nowhere in the USA. Wizards don’t come out this far, and the nearest village is about twelve miles away.”
“And you have a house out here?”
“Well, yeah. All wizards have at least two houses. That way we have somewhere to hide when the fit hits the shan.”
They walked up a tree-lined walkway and crested a small hill. The ponies, fully expecting a less-well-furnished version of Ivan’s shack on the other side, gasped at the sight. Sprawling before them was an enormous modern house surrounded by thinly planted pines.
“That- -that’s your house?”
“Who did you steal it from?” asked Trixie.
“No one,” said Humph, shrugging. “I bought it.”
“With what money?! You’re poorer than I am!”
“No,” said Sweetie Belle. “You’re poorer than Scootaloo!”
“Probably, but it’s not hard. I’m a wizard, remember?”
“So what?” said Trixie. “I’m a wizard, and I’m not rich!”
“Take a look,” said Humph, flicking a gold coin to Trixie. “Galleons. They’re made of gold. Three grams each. That’s ninety pounds if you melt it down and pawn it to muggles.”
“And they just let you do that?”
“Oh no. They’re enchanted. It’s impossible to damage them by any magical means, including melting them down.”
“So how do you do it?”
“Blowtorch.”
“Oh.”
“That, or I just use that gemino thing. It doesn’t work on galleons or gold, but…100 ruble coins aren’t made of gold, are they? And then of course there’s the white-collar crime. About twenty years ago, the Ministry got super obsessed with hunting down muggle-borns and completely understaffed the financial crimes division. Laundered my Grindenwald cash, and, well, smelted it.”
“Twenty- -how old exactly are you, Humph?”
Humph paused, confused. “You know…I’m not entirely sure…”
They continued to walk down the path, and as they did, the polyjuice potion started to wear off. Trixie, Sweetie Belle, and Fluttershy began to shrink and become increasingly quadrupedal until they were once again ponies.
“Oh, thank Cadence,” said Sweetie Belle, shaking off her skirt. “Don’t tell my sister, but I HATE wearing clothes.”
“Really? Me too!” said Humph.
“I didn’t mind so much,” said Fluttershy. “But I’m glad I’m a pony again.”
As they were talking, and object suddenly fell from the cloudy sky and hit the ground with a sickening thump. Fluttershy screamed and hid behind Trixie.
A heavily charred Ivan sat up, derping substantially and smiling.
“Ivan, you made it!” said Humph.
“Da!” said Ivan. “Trajectory was being the great much good! For time, Ivan was being the greatest of cosmonauts!” He removed his hat and pulled a fresh trench coat from it. He put it on, buttoning it, and tapped the hat with his wand, turning it back into Kiwi and replacing it on his head. He then reached into one of his pockets and removed a bottle of potion, which he immediately started drinking.
“Do you want to come in?” said Humph, pointing to his front door, which was now in sight.
“No,” said Ivan, shaking his head. “Ivan is not exactly being the indoor Ivan.”
“He no know how to use da wittew box,” whispered Kiwi.
“Besides, is being such great of day. Ivan thinks Ivan will enjoy outdoors. View looks so much different from not-orbit.”
Humph shrugged, and they walked to his house. He opened the door- -it was not locked- -and entered the house. Sweetie Belle was immediately struck both by how big it was, and how empty it felt. Even the smell was strange, like stale are and fresh paint.
“Wow,” she said, entering and crossing the marble floor. “This place is great! Why don’t you live here?”
“Why? Because it’s in the middle of nowhere. So lonely. I like my other house. It’s near my friends.”
“I’m sorry,” said Fluttershy. “That we messed it up for you.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem,” said Humph. He crossed into another room which, the ponies quickly realized, had an astounding view of the sea beyond it. He opened a drink cabinet, but instead of removing a glass of whatever was in there, he pulled out a straw.
“First order of business is getting a new wand,” he said. Without warning, he reached out and plucked one of Trixie’s tail hairs.
“OW! Hey, what did you do that for?!”
“Unicorn hair is magical,” said Humph, sliding the silver thread into the straw and crimping the ends with his teeth. He pointed the resulting red-plastic device at himself and swirled it. New clothes appeared over his body. “And there we go!”
“You do realize you just took a massive dump on three thousand years of wandlore, right?” said Sweetie Belle.
“Pff. Wandlore is made up junk anyway. All wands nowadays are just particleboard around magic polyester fibers. Unless you’re one of those super-rich Hogwarts types who can afford one of those craptastic ‘hand crafted’ wands. This is a step up from the last one, actually.” He walked toward a window- -not the one facing the ocean- -and opened it. “Second order of business…” He removed Awl from his pocket and tied a note around the undead bird. Then, without warning, he chucked the owl out the window. It sailed through the air and out of sight before plummeting to the ground. In the distance, Ivan cried out in surprise as he was struck.
“Wh- -what did you do that for?!” shrieked Fluttershy.
“I need to send a letter to Vince. He’s my only contact not on the run right now. Don’t worry, we’re pretty much brothers. I can trust him.”
“That’s not what I mean- -you just threw a helpless owl!”
“Well he can’t take off on his own! And besides, we wizards have been using owls to send letters since at least e-mail was invented. Trust me, he’ll get there. And he definitely needs the exercise. He eats way to- -oh. Wait. He doesn’t eat. Dead and all. But he’ll still get there.”
Before Fluttershy could continue to yell, a knock came at the door. Everyone froze.
“Is that…Ivan?” suggested Sweetie Belle.
“Ivan never knocks,” said Humph. “He says it’s bourgeois. That’s someone else.”
They looked at each other, and the knock came again. Humph started walking toward the door.
“You can’t be serious!” said Trixie. “Don’t open it!”
“Why?” said Humph, reaching the door and grabbing the handle.
“What if its THEM?”
“Well, then, they’re coming through the windows soon anyway.”
He threw open the door. An unusually tall blonde woman with short-cut hair looked down at him. She did not seem at all happy, and despite her model-like appearance, her presence was palpably intimidating.
“Hello,” said Humph. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s me, you idiot,” she said.
“I don’t know any ‘Mi’- -”
She slapped him. “Sunflower, you idiot.”
“Oh. Oh! Well come right- -”
“Wait a minute!” Sweetie Belle stepped forward, blocking the woman’s path. “How do we know that you’re Sunflower? You could be her using polyjuice, but you could also be one of THEM pretending to be her!”
“Wow, you’re right!” said Humph. “I didn’t even think of that! And wait a minute, you just slapped me! Only Sunflower is allowed to do that because I’m secretly attracted to her. So if you’re not her- -” He paused. “Oops. Because if you are…”
“You need to tell us something only Sunflower would know,” said Sweetie Belle.
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Sweetie Belle thought for a moment. “In your barn. Next to where you keep the sextants. You were working on a project. It was there when I was, an object. What was it?”
“Next to the sextants…that would be…” The woman’s eyes widened and she suddenly became as red as a beet. “Oh no- -”
“What was it?”
“Forget it!” she said, turning on her heel and starting to walk away. “I’m not Sunflower! Not at all! I’ll just be going!”
“Sunflower!”
Sunflower turned around again, then mumbled something.
“What was that?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“It was a…hfmfmfs.”
“A what?”
“A…a…” She took a deep breath, and then screamed at them. “It was a SADDLE? Okay? I like leatherworking, is there something wrong with that?! And so what if I sometimes put it on and prance around like a common mule? So what if I like having little jingle bells hanging from it?! It makes me feel pretty!” She pointed at Humph. “Don’t judge me, Dinklehuegen!”
“I’m not judging you,” said Humph. “What you do in your spare time is your own business. It just…I don’t know, it sounds so lonely.”
“Lonely? What do you mean ‘lonely’?”
“That you have a pretty saddle but no one to ride in it.”
Sunflower blushed even harder, and Sweetie Belle saw her reaching for a holster under her jacket. “Okay! Okay! It’s you!”
“Yeah,” muttered Trixie. “I don’t think anyone else could possibly be that tsundere…”
Sunflower was allowed to enter the house, and unlike the ponies she clearly had no difficulty walking on two legs or even the set of stiletto heels she was wearing.
“Wow,” said Trixie. “And I thought Fluttershy won the polyjuice lottery.”
“Ha ha,” said Sunflower, throwing back her waist-length and perfect yellow hair. “Funny.” She turned to Humph and held out a small purse-like container. “I picked up something on the way here. You have got to see this.”
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 12: Vince
Night had fallen, and Humph was sitting alone in a large room in the only chair that this particular house contained. This room had probably been intended as a grand ballroom by its original owner, but now it stood empty and dusty. Humph would not have minded hosting a ball, but it would be difficult to populate considering before the ponies he had had tops four friends.
The only source of light was the bright moon outside and the embers in the fireplace across from him. A book was sitting next to him, unopened. Unlike Hogwarts graduates, he had a greater than fourth grade reading level, but at the moment he just had no urge to read.
There was a patter of hooves from the hallway outside. Humph looked over his shoulder to see Fluttershy enter the room.
“Oh,” she said, realizing that he was there. “You can’t sleep either?”
“I don’t sleep,” said Humph. “I never have.”
“Oh,” repeated Fluttershy. She crossed the room and sat on the floor next to Humph. “I do sleep, but I couldn’t now. There’s too much howling outside.”
“Werewolves,” said Humph, pointing through one of the tall windows at the full moon. “And possibly a few wolfwears.”
“Werewolves? Really?”
“Yeah. There’s a ton of them in the moors. I’m not really sure why.”
“Is Ivan going to be okay out there?”
“Ivan? Oh yeah. Of course. The werewolves don’t go near him.”
“Why?”
“Because in Soviet Russia, werewolves get bit by YOU. That and I think that potion of his repels wildlife.”
“He gave me some of his potion. It didn’t taste good.”
“Really? What was it like?”
“It tasted like blood,” said Fluttershy. “But to me, everything tastes like blood.”
“Everything?”
“Every. Thing.”
“Well, that sucks,” said Humph, turning back to the fireplace.
“Are you waiting for something?” asked Fluttershy.
“Vince. He should be here any- -” There was a sudden surge of fire from the fireplace, and a red-haired wizard stepped out without any apparent injury. “- -minute.”
“Humph,” he said, sounding genuinely concerned. “I got your message and got over here as soon as I could.”
“Did you bring back Awl?” asked Fluttershy.
“What?”
“The owl. Did you bring it back?”
“Oh. That thing. Yeah.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the reanimated creature. It was as dead as usual, but it hooted loudly before he tossed it to Humph. Humph caught it and handed it to Fluttershy.
“You know, it’s kind of weird,” said Vincent. “Almost anyone can make a human inferi. It’s not even hard. But almost nobody can make an animal work. And you somehow did it backward.”
“Don’t you have an army of undead hounds?”
“Of course, but I’m me.” Vincent walked up to where Humph was sitting and pointed his long, black wand at the ground. A chair sprung up from nowhere and he sat down. Then, pausing, he cast a spell that produced a cushion for Fluttershy. “So, the situation’s pretty bad, isn’t it.”
“Yeah. Smugglers.”
“I know.”
“You know?” said Fluttershy. “How?”
“Because the Brotherhood has ears all over the place. I mean, we’ve even got at least five inferi working in the Ministry. Thought they would just, you know, tend the boilers, but one of them is actually on his way to becoming minister through promotions. Really says something about our politics when a brainless corpse can climb the latter that easily.”
“What have you heard?” asked Humph.
“Bad things,” said Vincent, his expression suddenly becoming serious. He leaned forward. “I’ve got news from a plant, a deep one.”
“Like a cabbage?”
“Like a- -no, not like a cabbage. It’s a dracaena. Come on, Humph, this is serious.”
“Sorry.”
Vincent paused, and then leaned in closer. “Word is, those smugglers? They’re acting under the orders of a Death Eater.”
“So?” said Humph.
“So?! It’s a Death Eater!”
“Yeah, and they’re the dominant political party right now. They control, like, a third of the Ministry.”
“No, not the sanitized Death Eater Party. I mean a real one. Mask, dark clothes, the whole shebang.”
“What’s a Death Eater?” said Fluttershy, stroking the feathers of the dead but still moving owl that she was holding. “It doesn’t sound good. Not at all.”
“They’re the remnants of an old political movement,” explained Vincent. “Followers of Lord Voldemort.”
“Wait, who?” said Humph.
Vincent’s eyes widened and his jaw fell open. “Wait. You’re joking?”
“No, I’m not joking,” said Humph, defensively.
“You’re- -you’re serious?” Vincent put his head into his hand. “Of course. Of all the people, I actually expect this out of YOU. Which is a little frightening. You know, He Who Must Not be Named? The Dark Lord? Come on, Humph, you were alive when it happened, I now you were!”
“Wait…the Dark Lord is named Voldemort?”
“Who did you think everyone was talking about?!”
“I don’t know! Nobody ever said his name! I assumed the ‘Dark Lord’ meant Zargothrax!”
“Zargo- -no, you imbecile, the Dark Lord is Voldemort! VOLDEMORT! How did you even get ‘Zargothrax’ out of that? He’s been dead for millennia!”
“Voldemort,” said Fluttershy. She shivered. “I don’t like that name.”
“Of course you don’t. Nobody likes it.”
“What did he do?”
“See, you this makes sense. You’re an interdimensional horse. Voldemort ran a political movement over the end of the last century. Pureblood supremacy and all that nonsense. He was super popular. He got killed, though. Twice. By the same dude.”
“Who?” said Humph.
“You- -exactly how thick are you?”
“I’m not thick!” protested Humph. “I just don’t follow current events much! But I kind of know what you’re talking about now. Wasn’t this Volemert some sort of Grisenwald knockoff?”
“Voldemort. And yes. Basically. Except whereas Grisenwald was inept, Voldemort was obsessive about pointless things. Like attacking schools for some reason.”
“And fighting for a population the size of Perth,” added Fluttershy.
“That too.”
“But what would Death Eaters want with unicorn blood?”
“Yeah,” said Fluttershy. “It’s not made of death, so I assume they don’t want to eat it.”
“My source says that one cell of Death Eaters is…” Vincent sighed. “They’re…actually trying to resurrect the Dark Lord.”
“Well that’s stupid,” said Fluttershy.
“What?”
“He got defeated. Twice. He clearly wasn’t very good at whatever he was doing.”
Vincent paused. “You know,” he said after a moment. “That’s not a bad argument. I mean, he did get defeated by a baby.”
“A baby?” said Fluttersy. “Seriously? Who gets killed by a baby?”
“Voldmort, apparently.” Vincent shrugged. “They say a killing spell rebounded. And no human life survives a killing spell, even a glancing one. Wizard rules.”
“I’m just surprised you came up with a spell for killing. I mean, it’s just so…horrible. We don’t have anything like that at all in Equestria. We use magic for the benefit of ponykind.”
“Exactly the spirit that the Brotherhood of the Brown Finger is devoted to. Which is why we don’t take kindly to Death Eaters wasting out potential.”
“Aren’t, like, half of us former Death Eaters, though?” asked Humph.
“The operant word being ‘former’. The pink-fez’s put me in charge of checking the ranks, and I did. None of them are active Death Eaters. It’s not one of us. Unless it’s you, but frankly, well…”
“I hope it’s not me,” said Humph. “That would be terrible. I hate hurting things.”
“Trust me, it’s not. You’re tops a Discomfort Licker, hardly a Death Eater at all.” He became more serious. “But this is really an issue. We can’t have that blood falling into their hands. You need to keep those ponies safe.” He turned to Fluttershy. “Are you almost done with your gate?”
“No,” said Fluttershy. “It’s almost done, but I need more time and more parts.”
“I brought some of what you requested,” said Vincent, producing an envelope filled with various things. “But half the stuff you listed just doesn’t exist in this universe. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” said Humph. “We’ll find workarounds. There’s always a way.”
“Not if your ponies get stolen,” said Vincent. He stood up. “And it’s going to be a nightmare for us if Moldy Voldy gets back on his feet. The Ministry won’t bother to pursue him at all, they’ll just scapegoat us like they always do.”
“Can you help us?”
Vincent smiled. “Help you? I’m going to give this place protection enchantments that make the security around Hogwarts look like the American border. The northern one. I’ve got this one that will make people’s skeletons try to crawl out their mouths, and I’ve been just dying to use it!”
“Thanks, Vince,” said Humph. “Just watch out for Ivan.”
“Ivan? You mean the one that lives near you? The Soviet?”
“Yeah. Sunflower’s here too.”
“Good to know,” said Vincent. “I’ll try not to wake her up. I don’t really want to get horse-kicked in the face. Again.”
“You get used to it,” said Humph.
“But do I want to?”
Vincent laughed and started toward the door, removing his wand and beginning to mumble as he walked, shooting spells in apparently random directions. Fluttershy watched him go.
“Um…how old is he?” she asked. “Without the fez and dark castle, he looks- -”
“Super young? Yeah, he’s like, seventeen. A real prodigy. Could have gone to Hogwarts if he wanted to, or, since he’s mostly a Weasely, Durmstrang. Pureblood and all. Thing is, nobody’s as good at necromancy as he is. And they don’t take too kindly to that, well, anywhere.”
“He’s kind of cute,” said Fluttershy. “And it really is nice of him to take his time to come here in the middle of the night to help protect us.”
“Why don’t you go tell him that?”
Fluttershy blushed profusely and hugged Awl tightly, crushing the bird slightly in the process. “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. Besides, he’s, well, a he.”
“Oh,” said Humph. Then. “Oh. How can you tell?”
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 13: The Unicorn Hunt
It was a sunny day, and Fluttershy sat at a folding table beneath a brightly lit and open window. Several birds were sitting on the sill, and they were watching her work as rodents scampered around the base of her chair.
“Hey, Fluttershy?” said Trixie from behind. “Have you seen Humph? Trixie is starving, and needs peanut butter crackers!”
“He went to the store in the village,” said Fluttershy, adjusting one facet of the puzzle box. “He’ll be back in two hours. Assuming he doesn’t fall down a hole or something. That happens to me sometimes.”
“But can’t you just, you know, fly out?”
Fluttershy paused. “Um…yes. That’s what I do. Definitely.”
Trixie, having nothing else to do, walked up to Fluttershy’s side and looked at the project she was working on. “Is that thing almost done?”
“Oh, it’s done,” said Fluttershy. “Except for one piece.”
“Piece? What kind of piece?”
Fluttershy set the box down and sighed, spitting out the screwdriver in her mouth. “It needs a transmitter. It’s not powerful enough now. In Equestria, you would just use a crimson resonator from the Crystal Empire. But here, they don’t have anything close.”
“So…it doesn’t work?”
“Not until I can figure out a way to make it louder. We’re so far. She can’t hear it from here.”
Trixie was about to ask what exactly that meant and then pretend to have at least some idea about the magic that Fluttershy, a Pegasus, knew for some reason how to use, but she got distracted by a smell.
“Do you smell that?” she asked.
“I told you. I have a lot of animals. The smell doesn’t wash off easily.”
“No, not that. That smell…it smells like oats. Really fancy ones.”
She sniffed around the room, and then eventually made her way onto the desk and out the window. Fluttershy just watched in mild amusement that quickly became nervousness. Something felt wrong, and she flapped her wings, taking flight and following Trixie out the window.
“Trixie! Come back!” she called. “We’re not supposed to be outside! And there’s enchantments here that can make your skeleton try to climb out your mouth!”
“But I’m so hungry!” called Trixie, trotting quickly toward the grove of windbreak trees that surrounded Humph’s summer home. “I just want to see if- -yes! SCORE!”
Trixie ran forward to where a sack of oats had been hung from a tree. Strung next to it was a round, white object.
“And look! A salt lick too!” She leaned forward and started licking the donut-shaped lick. “Mmm…so salty…”
“Trixie, this isn’t right,” said Fluttershy, her eyes darting around as she wondered why the lick and the treats had been hung at exactly pony-head height. “We have to get back inside.”
“Oh please, Fluttershy, you’re just so paranoid! I mean, who would put a salt-lick out unless they wanted you to lick it? It’s not like- -”
There was an almost inadiable “thwick” sound, and Trixie jumped suddenly. “OW!” she cried, “something just bit me!” She looked down at her rump and saw that she had most certainly not been bitten. A small projectile syringe was sticking out of her rump. “Gosh darn it,” she said as her eyelids began to droop unevenly. “Trixie just had her…shots…”
Trixie collapsed. As she did, there was another “thwick” and Fluttershy felt a sharp pain in her own rump. She looked down to see a dart sticking out of it. She waited several seconds, but nothing happened. There was another sound, and then another, and then a whole group. Within seconds she had at least ten darts sticking out of various parts of her body.
“Well, that’s just rude,” she said.
An enormous griffon with a dart rifle suddenly stood up from a nearby shrub. “Why the ell aren’t you going down?”
“GRIFFON!” cried Fluttershy, and promptly fainted from fright.
“Oh,” said Gisla. “Well, eez one way to do it, I suppose.”
On the other side of the house, Sunflower- -now back to her normal centaur form, wearing a plaid shirt and bomber jacket- -stood over Liu, who was still bound but ungagged.
“You know you’re not wearing any pants, right?” said Liu.
“I am more than a little aware of that, yes.”
“Must be drafty. Having it all hanging out like that.”
“You have no idea.”
“I’m a dragon half the time. I know what it feels like, trust me.”
“Yes, but you’re a wizard half the time as well.”
“True.” Liu leaned back. “At least I’m not a dirty horse-rumped halfbreed with an overinflated ego despite being nothing more than a magical beast.”
“No,” said Sunflower, retaining her cool. She was used to hearing that type of insult. “You are clearly more of a horse face than a horse rear.”
There was a sound of heavy boots from across the room, and Ivan entered. “Sunflower,” he said. He stopped and looked at Liu. “Oh. Who is being that?”
“Just a horseface animagus Scot,” said Sunflower. “Ignore her. What is it, Ivanovich?”
“What is- -oh. Yes.” Ivan reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a well-carved stick. “Ivan find this on ground outside.”
Sunflower’s eyes widened. “Is that…?”
“Tiny inferior capitalist wooden magic stick? Ivan is thinking so. Does not know how it got where it was being, or why was on the ground.”
“It was there because someone lost it,” said Sunflower, realizling what the wand implied. She rushed toward one of the windows, being careful not to put her face too close to it, and drew a pistol. “That means there’s wizards out there. They’ve found us!”
“Told you,” said Liu, smiling.
“What?” said Ivan, approaching the window carefully. “But Ivan was outside for so long, saw nothing of consequence petrificus totalus.”
Sunflower’s body suddenly stiffened and she fell hard onto her side. She looked up, still conscious but fully paralyzed, to see Ivan pointing the wooden wand straight at her. He smiled, and his body began to warp. Within a few moments, instead of a long-nosed, derp-eyed gray man, a woman was standing in Ivan’s clothing where he had been.
“Mag!” cried Liu. “Holy nuts, that’s actually you?!”
“Of course it’s me,” she said. “The Soviet’s already been neutralized, and two unicorns have been acquired.”
“Well then what are you waiting for? Cut me free!”
The woman raised her wand and pointed it at Liu. There was a flash of light as the bindings holding the girl broke, and Liu stood up, rubbing her wrists.
Sunflower struggled to reach for her gun, but she was completely bound and unable to move. She could still think, though, and still feel pain- -even though she was light for a centaur, eight hundred pounds never fell easily- -and it also appeared that she could talk still.
“Mag…Magmarian De’Aquienz?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”
“You were a sixth year when I was a first!”
“But…you’re a centaur. Centaurs aren’t allowed to go to Hogwarts.”
“Yeah, they kicked me out. Sunflora Smith?”
Maggie’s eyes widened with recognition. “You kneecapped me during a quiddich scrimmage!”
“Yeah, well, I WAS trying out for beater- -”
“I was in the hospital for a week, and had to graduate on crutches!”
“Well, it’s not my fault you have brittle bones!”
“You two know each other?” said Liu.
“She’s the girl who used to violently defend a corner of the library,” said Maggie. “We- -we went to Hogwarts togather.”
“Whoa, you actually got into Hogwarts? I thought that was just a rumor!” She looked at Sunflower and then at Maggie. “How did Maggie De’Aquienze and a centaur get in and I didn’t? Well, nevermind.” She crossed the floor and kicked Sunflower hard in her horse chest. It hurt, substantially, but Sunflower suppressed her desire to scream. Showing pain was showing weakness.
“No! Don’t do that!” said Maggie, pulling Liu away.
“She bound me and gagged me and stuffed me in a sack! And broke my wand! I’m going to both sets of her ribs if- -”
“NO.”
“And just who are you to tell me what to do? You run observation and intelligence. You’re not the boss of me!”
“No, but Gisla is. And we’re on a schedule. But if you want to explain to her that the evaq failed because you wanted to torture a helpless centaur- -”
“Fine, fine!” said Liu, giving up. “Just don’t tell Gisla. I need a good performance review for the next quarter. Real bad.”
“Then we need to go. Now.”
Liu started walking, but Maggie hung behind for a second. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t tell that to me,” spat Sunflower. “Tell that to the innocent ponies you’re going to bleed for profit.”
Out on the far edge of the windbreak, Sweetie Belle was coming back from a stroll on the moors. She sung as she walked, taking inspiration from the land around her. She was, of course, still terrified of what was going to happen to her and beginning to feel more and more homesick, but she had decided to make the best of what this world had to offer. The seemingly endless plains had a certain poetry about them, and a certain sadness.
She entered the grove of trees, and immediately felt that something was off. There were enchantments surrounding the house, which she knew. They were optimized for humans, not her, so they were not normally a problem. Now, though, almost all of them seemed to have been turned off.
Then she heard something rustling in the bushes. She froze, suddenly terrified, and hid behind a small shrub.
“My lungs feel funny,” said a voice. “It’s an embolism, I’m dying.”
“It’s allergies,” said another voice.
“To what? I’m not allergic to anything!”
“To the moor grass! Look at it, it’s everywhere!”
“How would you know? You only attended half a semester of medical school before they threw you out!”
“And how much medical school did you attend? I know that the head bone is connected to the knee bone, and that’s all I need to know.”
“That doesn’t help my embolism! Or the brain tumor!” The lower of the two voices sighed. “I bet its testicular cancer. It’s metastatic testicular cancer, isn’t it?”
“Well, I’m not about to check.” The higher but still male second voice inhaled sharply. “Oh wow, look at that!”
There was a rushing of footsteps toward where Sweetie Belle was hiding, and she held her breath.
“Leave the plants, Lester. We’re here to catch a tiny horse. Not a tree.”
“But this is a genuine battlegorse! And it’s so little! Did you know that they can grow fifty meters high? Hold on, I’m totally going to take it.”
The shrub near Sweetie Belle rustled and was pulled from the ground. Sweetie Belle looked up to see a pair of wizards dressed in camouflage standing over her. The two parties stared out for a moment, and then the larger of the two yelled.
“TINY HORSE! GET IT!”
Sweetie Belle fired a stun spell, but the larger wizard blocked it. He then swung his wand. “Serpentsortia!”
A snake flew out of the tip of his wand and struck Sweetie Bell in the side. It immediately flopped to the ground and stared up at her with mismatched eyes.
“The derp-herp!” cried the smaller wizard. “What the heck is that supposed to do?!”
“I panicked, okay? I’m better with guns than wands!”
“Then use the gun!”
By the time they came to that conclusion, Sweetie Belle was already at least five meters away. A small explosion went from behind her, and she felt projectiles whizzing past her head.
“After her!” cried Lester. He and John immediately started sprinting through the spiny underbrush, with John brandishing a shotgun as he followed.
Chasing the tiny horse was not easy. There was a significant amount of underbrush and she was very small. For a moment, they pair of wizards through that they had lost her. Then, suddenly, something silvery white crossed their path.
“There!” cried Lester, bounding over a stump after the shape. “Come on! If Gisla finds out we let her get away, your tumor is going to be the least of our problems!”
The horse was fast, and Lester was forced to jump and dive for her when he got close enough. He landed on several rocks and an aggressive thorn bush- -and dropped his battlegorse- -but he felt his hands wrap around something pony-sized.
“HA!” he said, standing up. “I got her!”
John came from behind, wheezing. “How are you- -able to run- -like that? Don’t you eat- -a diet of- -just beans or something?”
“Magic beans,” corrected Lester. “Look! Tiny horse!”
He held out the silver-colored horse to John, and the horse just smiled back and fluttered her tiny useless wings.
“Wait a minute,” said John. “Lester, I don’t think that’s a unicorn. That’s a patronus!”
“Patronus?” Lester moved the pony back toward him and examined it closely. “Who the heck has a chicken for a patronus?!”
The patronus began to dissolve, and Lester and John were left without a pony.
Humph whistled as he walked up the dirt path to his summer home. Or at least tried to, because he did not actually know how to whistle. He was only minutes away when something jumped out of the grass on the side of the path. He screamed like a little girl and nearly dropped the bag he was carrying, only to realize that it was Sweetie Belle.
“Sweetie Belle, you almost gave me a heart attack!”
“Humph, quick, wizards- -”
“Do you want any biscuits?” he asked, opening his bag. “I have biscuits. And cookies. And this.” He pulled out a bottle of fluorescent orange pop. “I got Liu some Irn-Bru. They drink that, right? I just feel really bad having her tied up, and considering she’s a teenager it’s probably totally inappropriate. We basically kidnapped her and all- -”
“HUMPH!” shouted Sweetie Belle. “Wizards- -we’ve been invaded!”
Humph’s eyes widened as he realized what had she meant. He dropped the bag, snapped open the Irn-Bru and chugged it. He then picked up Sweetie Belle and sprinted back to his house.
Irn-Bru was certainly no Ivan potion, but the combination of caffeine and Ponceau 4R made him able to move much quicker than normal and he reached his summer home in twenty seconds flat. The first thing he noticed was that just outside his door, Ivan had been frozen solid, entombed in a block of ice. He was still reaching out toward a bottle of his potion- -also frozen, and sitting on the ground just inches away from his fingertips- -but had been unable to reach it when he had been solidified.
Next to him, Kiwi was weeping and desperately and futilely trying to claw through the ice with his tiny paws. When he saw Humph and Sweetie Belle, he looked up with his eyes wide and fully of tears.
“Pwease nice mistuh, hewp Ibin! Hab wowsest cowdie-huwties!” He sobbed. “No wan Ibin to take fowevew sweepies! He am Kiwi onwy fwend! Huuhuu!”
“Is he…dead?” asked Sweetie Belle in shock.
“Oh no,” said Humph. “Ivan’s Soviet. Sort of. He’s actually from Cleveland, but that’s not the point. The point is, he can’t be harmed by any form of snow or ice. He’s just stuck.” He pointed his wand at the ice, and a beam of light shot out. The ice was immediately transfigured into a flurry of white dog hair, and Ivan lurched forward as though he had hardly noticed. He grabbed the ice containing his potion and lifted it.
“Why potion is so cold?” he asked. He shrugged and drank some of it. “Eh. Is not frozen, so is not really the cold.”
“Ibin!” cried Kiwi, hugging Ivan’s leg.
A look of realization suddenly came over Ivan’s face. “Wizards!” he said. “Ivan was attacked! They got to the inside!” He pointed at the door to the house, which had been blasted open. Both Humph and Sweetie Belle’s hearts sunk.
Humph rushed into the house. There was no sign of a struggle, apart from the door having been opened. He could tell that something was wrong, though.
“Sunflower!” he cried. “Sunflower, where are you!”
“In…here,” called a voice weakly from farther back in the house.
Sweetie Belle and Humph rushed to the room where they had been holding Liu, and as soon as they arrived, they saw Sunflower paralysed and tipped onto her side next to the cut ropes that had been holding their captive.
“Sunflower, what happened?” cried Humph, his voice cracking.
“Petrification spell. Can’t move. I need a counterspell.”
“Right,” said Humph, raising his wand.”
“NOT from you. Let her do it.”
Sweetie Belle stepped forward and charged her horn with the counterspell. As soon as she engaged it, Sunflower was released and gasped for breath. “They took…they took Trixie and Fluttershy. I couldn’t stop them. They had a metamorphamagus, they came up from behind, I didn’t- -”
“It’s going to be okay,” said Humph.
“How is it possibly going to be okay? Are you even listening?” Sunflower stood, slipping on the tile floor and nearly falling. Humph rushed to her side to help her, but she pushed him away. “I thought you said Rosenblatt put protection enchantments on this place!”
“He did,” said Sweetie Belle. “They’re all turned off. They must- -they must have cut them!”
Sunflower swore. “How did they even know we were here?”
“They must have tracked Liu,” reasoned Sweetie Belle. She looked at the pile of rope where the dragon animagus had been.
“Or there was being a spy,” said Ivan, entering the room slowly while continuing to drink a half-frozen bottle of his potion.
“Or,” said Sunflower, angrily stomping toward Ivan. “You let them in without even TRYING to warn me!”
“Ivan can not help it! Ivan was magiced!”
“It must have been a coordinated attack,” said Sweetie Belle. “They took down you two to get the three of us alone. I barely got away. I think they were counting on me being in the house…” Sweetie Belle shivered when she thought about what might have happened to her if she had been with Fluttershy and Trixie- -and then she felt terrible when she realized she was considering herself lucky for avoiding a horrible fate that her compatriots were no doubt currently experiencing.
“Do you know where they went?” said Humph.
“No. I didn’t see. I couldn’t even reach my bloody gun.”
“Do you have any way to track them?”
Sunflower’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly serious. Deathly serious, even.”
“They just took down a centaur, a Soviet, a competent unicorn, and a Fluttershy in less than ten minutes. Are you seriously considering trying to try to get them back? Just walk in there and take them?”
“Sure, why not. Harry Potter once walked into Gringots and stole a bunch of gold, I should think I can do at least this.”
“That event is a lot more complicated than that! And Potter was- -and is- -actually, you know, skilled.”
“And I’m not?”
“No!”
“Well,” said Humph, crossing his arms. “If you can’t track them, then I’ll do it myself.”
“One, you can’t. You have no idea how. Two, I didn’t say I can’t track them.”
“Wait,” said Sweetie Belle. “You can?”
“Of course I can. When I acquired the Scot I shoved an Origin Stone down her throat. I’m assuming she hasn’t passed it quite yet.”
“Origin Stone?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Ivan is not liking the Origin,” grunted Ivan. “Prefers the hot water vapor a great much more.”
Ignoring Ivan, Sunflower continued. “It’s a magical object.” She reached into her pocket and produced a rounded, palm-sized stone with several holes cut into it. “This is the Mother Stone. It will always seek out the Daughter Stones. Of course, unless they are complete morons they’ll probably check her.”
“So, it’s useless?”
“No. Despite their competence, I’m assuming they are, in fact, morons. Seeing as none of us are dead.”
“Ivan might be,” said Ivan. “Heart has still not started beating. Has trouble pumping the kosmolin, Ivan thinks.”
“Just drink more potion,” suggested Sweetie Belle.
Ivan derped. “Da. This, Ivan can be doing!”
Sunflower directed her attention to Humph. “But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out if we do what you’re proposing.”
“You don’t have to come. I can do it myself. After all, I have a wand.” Humph raised his wand, and it accidentally shot a projectile into the ceiling that caused several pieces of plaster to fall. “Oop. Sensitive wand.”
“I figured as much,” muttered Sunflower. “But I’m definitely not letting you go alone. You’re just not competent. I am. You would be dead in ten seconds flat without me.”
“You mean…you would be sad if I died?”
“Not sad,” said Sunflower, blushing. “Just…I would miss you. Sort of. And I’d feel terrible for not having pulled your non-horse butt out of the fire when it would barely even be hard.”
“I’m coming too,” said Sweetie Belle. “They’re my friends, and I need to help them. That, and I’m the only one here who knows how to use magic properly aside from Ivan.”
“Ivan does not know how to use magic,” said Ivan. “Mostly, points Mosin-Nagant bayonet at the things, and magic is happening.” He shrugged. “Ivan not understand. Not need to. Am pureblood.”
“Eh. Pretty much what I do, too,” said Humph.
Sunflower sighed. “We’re going to die, aren’t we.”
“Probably,” said Sweetie Belle.
Author's Note
"Battlegorse" is a song by Hammer King (or, spelled properly, HAMMER KING). Gorse is a plant. So...heavy metal shrubbery?
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 14: Things get Worse
Chapter 14: Things get Worse
Fluttershy and Trixie sat on a cold metal table in a white, chilly room lit by oppressively bright fluorescent lights. Their manes and tails had been shaved to a fraction of an inch to make wands out of, and they were both shivering from fear and from the unusually low temperature.
“What- -what do you think they’re going to do to us?” asked Trixie.
“I think we both know what they’re going to do to us,” responded Fluttershy.
As she spoke, the locks on the heavy door near them clicked. They both clutched each other in fright.
“I’m never going to see Starlight again, am I?”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
A wizard stepped into the room. He was so enormous that he had to duck to get through the door. His head was completely shaved, and his dark eyes were sunken in a dark, sharp-featured face. He was wearing a stained apron and carrying something threatening as he slowly inched forward toward them.
Fluttershy squeaked and closed her eyes. Trixie gasped and sputtered as Fluttershy squeezed the air out of her. She continued to hold on until she felt an enormous, calloused hand gently pat her head.
“Aww,” he said in the most bizarrely out-of-place voice Fluttershy could possibly have imagined. His voice was still male, but unusually high and soft. “You’re trembling! You don’t need to be afraid!”
“Y- -yes, I do!”
Through her partially closed eyes, the saw the man take a knee so that he was eye-level with her. “Come on, tiny horse, you can trust me. I’m a certified veterinary phlebotomist. I know what I’m doing.”
“Phle…phlebotomist?”
Fluttershy partially opened her eyes and saw that the “threatening object” he had been holding was in fact a butterfly needle, some tubing, and several small vials, the exact same thing she would see at any doctor’s office. Trixie seemed to see the supplies as well.
“So,” she said, “You’re not going to hang us upside down by our feet and- -”
The wizard got pale. “What? No, why would you even- -whoa!” He took a seat on a wheeled stool that almost bent under his weight. “Oh no, just the thought of doing that to you two adorable little ponies makes me queezy.”
“Are you going to pass out?” asked Fluttershy.
“No, no,” he said, calming down. “I just hate the thought of hurting animals.”
“We’re not animals!” protested Trixie. “We’re ponies!”
The wizard blinked, clearly not understanding. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insulting.” His eyes fell to the cold aluminum bench beneath them. “Wait, they didn’t even give you blankets or anything?”
“No,” said Fluttershy. “They just shaved us and…and…” she wiped a tear from her eye.
“Aww, don’t cry,” said the wizard. “I’m really sorry. And a little angry. I promise I’ll talk to Mr. Lancaster. But…” He put on a pair of gloves and got the needle. “If you don’t mind, well…”
“You can’t have Trixie’s great and powerful blood!” protested Trixie.
“Aww, don’t be like that.” The wizard reached into a paper bag he had brought and pulled out a cookie. “I have biscuits and orange juice for when you’re done.”
Trixie began to salivate. “Cookies, you say?”
“Yes. They’re peanut butter flavor. I made them myself.”
“Peanut…butter?”
The wizard nodded, smiling.
“Well, Trixie certainly does want a cookie. But it had better not hurt.” She extended one of her front legs, and the wizard went to work. He was indeed experienced at his job, and after a few seconds Trixie winced and a silvery fluid began to fill the first of several vials.
“Um,” said Fluttershy. “Excuse me, Mr. Wizard.”
“Otto,” said the wizard. “Otto Bartereus Kynd. And what’s your name?”
“Oh, I’m Fluttershy.”
“And I’m- -ohh- -Trixie,” said Trixie.
“Are you feeling faint? I can stop and come back later if you want.”
Trixie shook her head. Fluttershy continued. “Well, I hate to be a bother, but…” She spread her wings. “I’m not a unicorn. I’m a Pegasus pony.”
Otto stared at her wings. “So you are! I don’t know how we missed that. I mean, you don’t even look like a unicorn!”
“Finally, somebody actually noticed,” said Fluttershy. “So…do I need to get my blood drawn?”
“Well, no,” admitted Otto, “but I think we should get some anyway, just to check the chemistry and make sure you’re healthy. Is your family prone to diabetes?”
“Diabetes? Oh no. Just everypony around me. For some reason.”
“Well, we’ll check anyway.” He sighed. “Because, well…I don’t know how to say it, but you’re never going to leave here again. I’m sorry.”
The warehouse had what could be best described as a basement. It had originally been intended as a kind of storage area for supplies relating to the operations of the warehouse- -pallets, forklift parts and repair tools, boilers- -but had since been modernized. It was now filled with a significant amount of equipment, most of it related to the processing and manufacturing of various goods and products. The equipment did not simply consist of obsolete wizarding cauldrons and buckets and so forth; it contained a number of parts pinched from the best universities of the country, including centrifuges.
It was here that Trixie and Fluttershy’s blood had been processed, validated for purity, and in Trixie’s case packed on anticoagulant and enchanted ice in an aluminum briefcase that Eugene Lancaster now held. He was not alone. Beside him sat Gisla, her eagle-like head held higher than his despite resting on her haunches. Maggie and Liu were also in attendance. Eugene would have preferred more of his employees to surround him for the sake of safety, but Liu was the only one brave enough and Maggie the only one easily cowed enough to actually come.
“So,” said Liu, crossing her arms. “They say this guy is pretty tough.”
“Shh,” said Eugene. “Don’t talk, if you can avoid it. We’re already not on good terms with him, and we need this to go off without a hitch.”
“Well, as long as Mag doesn’t pee herself this time.”
“Hey! Who told you that?” protested Maggie.
Maggie’s embarrassment was almost immediately replaced by fear as the room suddenly became silent and cold. A dark mist seemed to seep in from beneath the centrifuges and supercold freezers, and then it condensed and resolved. The tall Death Eater Rott emerged from the void.
He paused, standing perfectly still. He made absolutely no motions. Even though everyone in the room could hear his breathing, his chest did not seem to rise and fall. The only element of color on his person came from the threatening red stone on his chest, and everything else was black and silver. Maggie nearly urinated again, but Liu stepped forward.
“Hey,” she said, even as Eugene motioned for her to get back with his eyes. “So. You really are a Death Eater. Super cool. Are you guys recruiting new members? Because if you are, I’m totally willing to join.”
Rott did not respond for a long moment. Then, just when Liu was about to repeat herself, his masked face slowly turned toward her. He did not speak, nor did his masked face produce any expression- -but the atmosphere of the room seemed to shift. Even Liu felt it, and she took a step back. “Sorry,” she mumbled, returning to Maggie’s side.
The Death Eater slowly turned back to Eugene. “My…blood,” he rasped.
“I have it,” said Eugene. He stepped forward and opened the case. Rott stared into it for a moment, and then reached out with his long, gloved fingers and removed one of the several small vials. He looked at the tiny glass cylinder and the almost luminescent silvery substance within.
“Validation,” he demanded.
“A- -a report,” said Maggie, presenting Rott with the laboratory testing parameters of the blood. Rott just stared at her.
“Eez not what he means,” said Gisla. She snapped her claws. A door on the far side of the room opened, and Fluttershy and Trixie were led in, both on leashes held by Otto. “Az you can see,” said Gisla. “The blood has indeed been extracted from a living unicorn.”
Rott stared at the pair of ponies, causing them to become as nervous as everyone else in the room. Then he spoke.
“Only one,” he said, putting the vial back in the case. “There are two….unicorns. Blue one…and white one.”
“We only managed to capture these two,” said Eugene. “But the supply is more than adequate- -”
“Need. MORE.”
“We can’t take any more,” said Otto. “She’s already bordering on anemia, it would go against the protocol- -”
“And trust me,” said Trixie. “The Great and Powerful Trixie’s blood is indeed both great and powerful, as she is. You probably don’t even need that much.”
“NO,” hissed Rott, silencing them both. “Blood from TWO unicorns. Was promised…blood from TWO unicorns.”
“We will be able to produce more soon,” said Eugene. “With the unicorn in our possession, we can produce an unlimited amount.”
“NO,” said Rott. He went silent again. Then he turned to the ponies, causing them to recoil in fear. He raised a finger and pointed at Fluttershy. “Bring her…to me.”
“I don’t think- -” started Otto.
“Just do it,” said Eugene.
Otto grimaced, but then acquiesced. He brought Fluttershy forward.
The Death Eater stared down at the yellow mare, and then spoke directly to her. “I need…the blood of two unicorns. I was promised…two unicorns. Where is the other?”
“Oh,” said Fluttershy, shaking. She then spoke to herself. “Be brave, Fluttershy. Be. Brave.” She took a deep breath and stared directly into Rott’s face. “I’m not going to tell you anything!” she said.
Rott paused. “Yes, you are.”
“No! You’re being so mean to us, I don’t have to tell you anything!”
From his robes, Rott drew a slightly corroded wand. “So…be it.” He raised the wand and pointed it at Fluttershy. “Crucio.”
Fluttershy screamed and fell over, convulsing on the floor.
“NO!” cried Otto, rushing forward. “Don’t!”
Gisla reached out a claw and held him back. In his haste, he had released Trixie, but she could hardly run. She just stood, watching in horror, on the verge of being sick. She found she could not move. The look in Fluttershy’s eyes was just too much.
Rott maintained Fluttershy’s agony for several more seconds, and then lifted his wand. The spell terminated, and Fluttershy was left lying on the floor, breathing hard and sweating.
“Now,” said Rott, slowly. “Tell me where the white unicorn is.”
Fluttershy muttered something in response.
“Louder,” ordered Rott. Fluttershy muttered again. “LOUDER.”
Fluttershy lifted her head and looked into the inky pits of his eyes. “I said: MORE.”
“Crucio.”
Once again, Fluttershy screamed in agony and fell onto the floor, shaking and twitching. This time, though, Rott held the spell for much longer. After nearly a minute, he released it. By this point, Trixie was pretty sure she could see Fluttershy smoking.
“Oh YES!” said Fluttershy, moaning not with agony but with pleasure. She rolled onto her back. “Yes, Rainbow Dash! HURT ME! I’ve been such a bad, bad pony! Punish me, Rainbow Dash, PUNISH ME!”
“Wait, are you enjoying that?” said Trixie, simultaneously confused and mildly disturbed. “I’m confused now. Is that what the spell’s supposed to do?”
“No,” said Maggie. “It’s supposed to be the worst pain you’ve ever experienced! It’s been known to make wizards go mad!”
“Worst?” said Fluttershy. “Well, clearly you’ve never spent time in Twilight’s extra-special castle dungeon. But honestly, I think this would work better if you put some blinders on me. And a bit. And a really, really tight saddle. And some rubber boots. And then hit me in the cutie mark with a riding crop. That might get the information out of me. Try that.”
Rott just stared at her. “This is…unanticipated. But not insurmountable.” He drew his wand, but instead of pointing it at Fluttershy pointed it at Trixie instead. Trixie gaped and started to try to run, even though there was nowhere to go.
“Cruci- -”
Gisla moved surprisingly quickly, swiping her claw across Rott’s face with enough force to knock his mask away and to interrupt his spell.
“Gisla!” cried Eugene. “What are you doing?!”
“That is one of the last two unicorns in existence!” she growled. “She is priceless! I will not allow a genetic inferior such as yourself to jeopardize our company’s future!”
The blow had not apparently injured Rott, even though it would have been strong enough to do significant damage to a normal person. He slowly turned his head back. When the group saw his face, Maggie cried out in fright.
“Holy duck,” gasped Liu in simultaneous amazement and fear.
It was quite obvious that Rott was not alive. His skin was sallow and gaunt, with several patches of mold covering the otherwise dry and yellowed surface. Both of his eyes were sunken and blind. With his mask removed, it was clear that he was an inferi.
Slowly, he raised his wand. His mask was drawn toward him, and he caught it.
“You would…do best to forget what you have seen,” he said. His mouth- -which was sewn shut- -did not move. Rather, the magic that animated him seemed to produce sound externally.
The atmosphere distorted again, and several more identical Death Eaters arrived. Each one wore the same mask, robes, and red crystal brooch. From the slight sour smell of formaldehyde that filled the air, it was immediately apparent that all of them were inferi as well.
Rott replaced his mask. “We will…remain,” he said. “We need….the blood.”
View Online
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 15: Nobody is Qualified for Any of This
In one corner of the Import and Export warehouse, two mooks had been assigned to patrol the various entrances and exits to ensure that nothing went wrong during the blood transaction. Of course, being mooks, they were not doing any of that. Instead, they were standing off to the side of one of the warehouse’s atria and comparing wand length.
“Ha!” said Mook #1. “Mine IS longer!”
“Well mine is thicker at the base!” retorted Mook #2.
“Thicker around the- -no it isn’t! You’re lying!”
“No I’m not, look! See! Thicker!”
“Oh yeah, well- -it’s still shorter! And that means you have a stunted personality!”
“And a long one means that you’re compensating!”
“Compensating? For what?!”
They both paused. Neither actually knew what that meant. As they stood perplexed, one of the proximity charms went off, sounding a series of annoying but minor beeps.
“What was that?” said Mook #2.
“Relax,” said his partner. “It’s the protection charm, but with that sound, it’s nothing big. Not human sized. Probably a bird. Or a marmot.”
“Marmot?”
“Oh yeah. We get marmots in here all the time. Remember that one spring where it rained?”
“No.”
“Well, marmots. Marmots everywhere. I swear, we ate marmot for a month.”
“What’s a marmot?”
“Kind of like that thing.” The mook pointed toward a brown hairy creature awkwardly climbing through an improperly sealed vent. It seemed to be having a great deal of trouble, and then suddenly fell approximately four inches and landed on its back, squealing and crying as it struggled.
“Wait a minute,” said Mook #1. “I don’t think that’s a marmot.”
“You’re right…I think that’s a sheep!”
They both immediately started drooling and approached the creature. By this time, it had managed to roll itself onto its side and face them, smiling.
“Hewwo nice mustuhs!” said the sheep. “Am Kiwi! Be nyy fwends?”
“Aw, it wants to be friends! Isn’t that- -COME HERE YOU LITTLE WOOLY!”
He lunged forward, and the sheep just barely managed to slip past him.
“Get back here!” shouted Mook #1 as he chased after it. “I’m gonna make a shepherd’s pie outta you!”
“Nuuuu!” cried the brown sheep as it waddled away. “No am fow shephewd’s pie! Am made fow huggies and wuv!”
The pair of mooks chased it into one of the empty front rooms. It took several attempts, but seeing as it was slow and not especially smart, they eventually managed to corner it in a dark and empty room.
“There we have it,” said Mook #2. “Come here, sheepy sheepy sheepy…”
“Do you know what we do to sheep in the United Kingdom?” said Mook #2, drooling heavily now.
“N…no…” squeaked Kiwi.
“Well, you’re about to find out!”
They lunged, but as they did, something tiny jumped out of the fur on the sheep’s back. They saw it drop to the floor, and then enlarge itself into what both of them perceived as a sheep with less hair and a horn sticking out of its head.
“Stupify!” shouted Sweetie Belle. Two bolts of red light shot out of her horn, striking the mooks in their respective heads and rendering them unconscious.
Sweetie Belle stopped to admire her handiwork, and then turned to Kiwi. “Are you okay?”
“No,” said Kiwi, covering his eyes. “Am twaumatized!”
“Oh, well, you’re not even a real animal anyway, so, um…that’s okay? Maybe?”
A second object jumped from Kiwi’s fur, and Sweetie Belle pointed her horn at it. “Engorgio!” she said. Almost as soon as the beam struck the insect-sized Ivan, he began to return to normal size. When he reached his normal height, he looked down at the glass bottle he was holding.
“Это хорошее зелье!” he said. He reached down and picked up Kiwi, tapping the creature with his wand and turning it into the Ivanhat, which he then placed on his head.
“Are you ready for this?’ said Sweetie Belle.
“Da,” said Ivan. He reached into his coat and removed a tiny bottled filled with a fluid that was glowing vigorously with blue-green light.
“What is that?” asked Sweetie Belle, taking a step back.
“Is Ivan’s most powerful potion! Distilled from a water from the basement of Chernobyl reactor and potatoes grown in Dzerzhinsk!” He pointed at the potion with one of his free fingers. “Ivan died to get the ingredients in this potion! Then drank potion, and came back! Twice! Or so Ivan thinks. Does not know. Potion is extra strong, for the emergency use only.”
“Well, let’s hope we don’t have to use it.”
“Ivan does not hope. Ivan only Ivans.”
With that, Ivan walked off to complete his part of the mission. Sweetie Belle set to work moving the boxes and old folding chairs in the room out of the way until she had cleared a space. Once she deemed it adequate, she charged her horn and projected a signaling runeset on the ground. Into this she placed a small, round stone and stepped back.
Almost instantly, the air distorted with a small pop. Humph and Sunflower both disapperated, and Humph slammed into the concrete floor. Sunflower, looking slightly green, doubled over and very nearly spilled her oats.
“Bloody heck, Dinklehugen!” she moaned. “You call that apiration? THAT? I’ve had abdominal surgery less disorienting!”
“Sorry,” said Humph. He dusted himself off and stood up.
“Did you hit turbulence?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“When don’t I? We took a few…er…detours. Let’s see, Greenland, Novosibirsk, Detroit, somewhere with chickens, a swamp- -oh, and Clyde says hi.”
“Clyde?”
“The weird swamp hillbilly. I think he said hi, at least. Sunflower kicked him in the head pretty hard.”
“He tried to touch my butt,” she said, crossing her arms. “He deserved it.”
Humph looked up at Sunflower. She had once again undergone a wardrobe change, this time to a short black tank top worn under a tactical vest that held several pistols.
“What?” she said.
“You’ve got a real Lara Croft thing going on there.”
“Focus, Dinklehuegen.”
“Oh, I am.”
“On the mission, I mean. Not on me.”
“Oh.”
“Do I need to leave you two alone?” asked Sweetie Belle, raising an eyebrow.
“Niet,” said Humph. “I’m fine for now.”
“Do you know your parts?”
Sunflower drew a pistol and chambered a round. “Shoot wizards. Save our friends. Get out without dying.”
“Wait, what are we dyeing?” asked Humph. Sweetie Belle and Sunflower glared at him. “Kidding! Sort of,” he said. “Well, that’s a lie. But…” His body warped and shrunk as he converted himself to his thylacine form.
“Holy- -” Sunflower swore repeatedly, trying to stay as quiet as possible. “A THYLACINE? A- -a THYLACINE? Seriously?!”
“Is there something wrong with that?” said Sweetie Belle.
“Only that they’ve been totally extinct for almost a century, and- -” She sighed. “You know what. No. I don’t even care at this point. With the level of intelligence of these dullards, they’ll probably think he’s a dog.”
“Wait…he’s not a dog?”
“You know, if I could reach you, I’d slap you lightly in the back of the head right now.” Sunflower turned to Humph. “And it’s not like you’re adorable or anything, but that’s actually a mildly competent transformation. Now go. Hopefully this works.”
Thylacine-Humph nodded and slinked off through the shadows, following his nose toward the scent of pony.
A group of wizards was playing cards on the floor of the main warehouse, as was their custom. On this particular day, though, their poker game had a new player. The wizards were all sweating and shaking as they pooled their last remaining knuts in a bet against the game’s leader: a mandrake wearing a green visor cap.
“How is he this good?” whispered one of the wizards to a witch sitting beside him.
“It’s that poker face,” she said, her hands shaking. “Those beady little eyes…I just can’t- -I fold!” she cried.
“Not me,” said the wizard on her other side of her. “Full House!”
The mandrake stared at him- -or pretended to, as it was likely blind. Then it put down its cards: a Straight Flush.
“What- -how did you- -what did- -GAH!”
“Come on! He’s counting cards!”
“With what? He doesn’t even have a brain!”
“That means- -that means we’re losing to STARCH!”
The mandrake smiled as it reached forward and collected its winnings.
“Privet!” said a voice behind them. Every wizard suddenly turned at once, standing up and drawing their wands at a smiling, long-nosed, gray-skinned man in a trech coat and ushanka hat. The troll of the group took a moment to recognize Ivan, but then he burst into tears and hid behind a short wizard.
“YOU!” cried a wizard. “You’re that madman from the other day!”
“Yeah! That’s him!”
“I have radiation burns because of you!”
“I’m sterile because of you!”
“Wait, what?”
Ivan just continued to smile. “Comrades,” he said, taking a serious expression. “Ivan has come to say how sorry he is being for the events of that occurred in recent.” He sighed, and looked extremely downtrodden. “Ivan sometimes gets the carried away, and forgets that tiny leetle British wizards are not as durable as strong Soviet ones. British wizards, they like tiny, baby witches. So very fragile.”
“You’re not helping your case.”
“But Ivan is being here to apologize! Has brought the gifts to make the better!” He reached into his coat, causing all of the wizards to lean forward, preparing their spells. Instead of drawing his wand, though, Ivan produced twenty six bottles of his potion.
“What is that?” asked one of the wizards.
“Is Ivan’s magic potion! Passed down from Ivan Ivanovich to Ivan Ivanovich since Ivan Ivanovich! It is being the great much good! Two hundred and six proof!”
The wizards looked at each other, and then reluctantly agreed to be friends if it meant free potion. About forty seconds later, they had shared half of one bottle and were completely passed out. Ivan had drank the remaining twenty five, and then become locked in a heated debate over the merits of Lysenkoism with the mandrake. The mandrake, of course, was not actually able to talk above a series of low grunts and meaningless muttering, but Ivan did not seem to realize this.
Two figures passed by Ivan and into the warehouse. One was a small unicorn, her body mostly disguised with a disillusionment charm. In the other direction, a thylacine moved swiftly through the shadows.
In between the shelves, John and Lester were inventorying a crate of live lethifolds and a small silo of horseradish seeds.
“Darn it,” said Lester. “There’s six less than there were a week ago.”
“Do you think they’re eating each other?”
“They had better be. But…just to be safe, I think we should avoid sleeping for a few months.”
“Agreed.” John looked to the side, lifting down a small model of a winged unicorn. As he did, he saw a thylacine pass by, stopping for a moment to stare at him before moving on. “Lester,” he said. “I think my tumor’s acting up! I think I just saw a Tasmanian tiger!”
“Welcome to my world,” muttered Lester. He groaned and grabbed his stomach. “Oh…I shouldn’t have tried to eat that battlegorse…”
Sweetie Belle, still concealed, edged past them. She knew the limitations of her spell; she was not really invisible, but just covered with a glossy chameleon sheen. Since this was not the first time she was covered in some kind of sheen, she knew enough to stay in the shadows where the distortion around her body was less noticeable.
As she crossed between two shelves, a wizard holding what appeared to be a head in a jar of greenish fluid started down the path next to her. The head swiveled, eyeing Sweetie Belle suspiciously and winking. The wizard, though, did not see her. Unfortunately, he was on a collision course with the young pony.
Sweetie belle was forced to squeeze through a narrow gap between two shelves. As she did, her flank brushed against a precariously placed steel bucket. She hardly noticed, and as she passed, the bucket tipped and suddenly came crashing down onto the hard concrete floor below.
As soon as the bucket struck the hard surface, two more identical buckets spilled out of the top. When they emerged, two more buckets spilled out of each of them, and so on. Sweetie Belle was immediately covered in a deluge of pails.
John rushed around the corner and cried out. “Mah buckets! Who spilled my buckets?! Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take to get them back in there? Why do we even have this?!”
As he lamented the spillage of the enchanted buckets, he noticed a small distortion in the pile trying to pull its way out. For a moment, he thought it was just the tumor, but then he lifted his wand.
“Incarcerous!” he yelled, and a distortion shot from his wand that rapidly resolved into a rope, binding the object. It squealed and fell, sliding down the buckets onto the floor. “Intruders!” shouted John, “Lester, sound the alarm!”
Lester obliged, shooting an alarm spell into the center of the warehouse. It exploded into a plume of light, and a klaxon started to sound.
From above on a catwalk, Humph watched these events unfolding. As soon as he saw what was happening, he shifted back into his human form. “Well,” he said to himself. “Guess we aren’t going to do this sneaky-style.” He stood up, and cupped his hands around his mouth. “HEY!” he yelled, drawing the attention of the entire warehouse. “Mandrakes!”
The mandrakes- -who by this time nearly outnumbered the conscious humans in the warehouse- -all looked up at him. Humph smiled, and then continued. “You see all these guys? Guess what? They support SCOTLAND NATIONAL!”
The mandrakes watched, and then turned to the wizards surrounding them. Being wizards, the wizards had no idea what Humph was talking about. The mandrakes, though, did, and after several seconds they screamed in fury and piled onto every nearest wizard, pummeling them with their rooty fists. Those who were not incapacitated by the initial sonic blast were quickly overrun by vegetable hooliganism.
Sweetie Belle, taking advantage of the chaos, turned to John and Lester, both of whom had also taken advantage of the chaos to lunge at her.
“REDACTUM SKULLUS!”
A blast of light struck the pair. Both of their heads rapidly shrunk. Lester took the brunt of the spell, and his head shrunk to the size of a plum.
“My head!” cried John. “It’s finally normal sized!”
“And mine is tiny!” squeaked Lester, feeling his tiny head between two fingers. His voice was comically high pitched. “How am I supposed to wear a hat now?!”
“Incindeo!” cried Sweetie Belle, directing the spell backward at herself. It ignited around her, searing away the ropes that bound her and sending a tidal wave of buckets out into the main corridor between the shelves, tripping several wizards in the process. It had the unfortunate aspect of overwhelming her disillusionment charm, and as it cleared she was left standing in the middle of a small crater unhidden.
“YOU!” peeped Lester. “I’m going to- -”
Before he could attack, several small explosions rang out throughout the warehouse. Sweetie Belle at first thought that they were spells, but then she heard the whine of bullets and saw the secondary explosions of the bullets detonating on whatever they came in contact with. She turned to see Sunflower- -who had formerly been instructed to take up a sniping position- -galloping through the crowd of confused wizards, bashing some out of the way and trampling others under her hooves.
John ducked to cover, but Lester drew his wand as bullets landed around him.
“Ha! You’ll never hit my tiny head!” he called as loudly as his comically diminutive head and mouth would allow.
“Accio stunod!” called John, pulling Lester away with magic.
From above, Humph now started running across the catwalk he had been standing on. The wizards below were completely confused and startled, having no idea what was going on. More, though, were rushing into the main room expecting a fight. A small group of them had started up the stairs after Humph- -after all, he had been the first to announce his presence- -and he was contemplating a way to stop them with the limited number of spells he actually knew how to do properly.
That was when he spied what appeared to be an enormous egg carton immediately next to the nearest staircase that the group was approaching. “I wonder if there are actually eggs in there,” he said to himself. He raised his wand. “Gestatimus!”
A spiral of golden light left his wand, and as soon as it struck the egg carton the lid suddenly started to move under its own volition. Within seconds, a number of baby snakes burst out, attacking the wizards who were nearby.
“Snakes!” cried one, “why did it have to be SNAKES?!”
“Huh,” said Humph, watching. “I guess there were eggs.”
In the rooms below, Eugene turned his head quickly at the sound of the klaxon. “What- -now? NOW? Why did I even hire those Mooks in the first place…” All around him, the various inferi collectively known as Rott were working with his equipment, beginning to process the unicorn blood into whatever it was they were using it for. Several of them were just standing around doing nothing, and this infuriated Eugene. “Aren’t you going to do something?!” he cried.
One of the Rotts turned toward him slowly. “It is…not our concern.” The inferi then went back to operating a centrifuge.
Eugene swore under his breath. The only other individuals in the room were Gisla, Maggie, and Liu. He turned to the three of them. “Get up there!”
“Finally,” said Liu, cracking her knuckles. “I’m going to smash some heads in!” She immediately charged up the stairs and out before Eugene could stop her and remind her that she did not currently have a wand. Gisla, meanwhile, seemed to actually understand the significance of what was going on. Somehow, a group had managed not only to breach the security of the Central Warehouse but they were actually conducting a battle in the middle of an array of priceless artifacts. There was no telling who they were- -Ministry, Brownfinger, any number of criminal organizations, or even Rott’s rival Death Eaters. In his gut, though, Eugene knew that it had to be the unicorn-tamer.
“I’m going to need to use some supplies,” said Gisla.
“Use anything. DO anything. Just keep them from getting down here!”
Gisla nodded and raced after Liu. Maggie went to follow her, but Eugene stopped her. “Maggie,” he said.
“W- -what?”
“Take this.” He reached into his pocket and removed a long, dark colored
“What is that?” said Maggie.
“A military prototype. The Americans made them. It’s elder. With a small ‘e’. Take it.”
“I- -I can’t take your wand! You need it, boss!”
“Need it? What the heck am I supposed to do with it?” His eyes narrowed. “You seriously don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“I’m a muggle. You could give me the real Elder Wand and I wouldn’t even be able to make it spark. Trust me, you’re going to put this to good use.”
Maggie was wholly surprised. Not that her boss was a muggle, that actually made sense. Instead, she was astounded that he actually trusted her enough to give her an artifact that she knew was worth far more than she ever would be.
“I won’t mess up. You can count on me.”
“You had better not.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Because if you do, you’re not going to make it back.”
In a different room, Fluttershy and Trixie perked up, hearing the sound of commotion from outside their locked stable.
“What was that?” said Fluttershy.
“It’s nothing,” said their guard. “They probably tried to steal Blorg’s pudding again. Those idiots.”
Trixie knew better, though. She was not sure if the sound upstairs was a rescue or an attack, but something told her it was the former. She reached out with the magic of her horn and pulled the wizard guard’s wand out of his pocket.
“Hey!” he cried. “Dirty horse, give me that back!”
“Obliviate!” she said, pointing the wand at the wizard’s head. A silver beam struck him in the forehead, and he slowed before stopping a few feet from the pair of ponies.
“Um…” he said. “Where am I?” He looked down at the ponies. “And who are you?” He paused. “Actually…who am I?” He paused, as if trying to remember. “I feel like decades of childhood trauma have been erased, and I certainly don’t feel a need to prove myself by engaging in illegal smuggling to try to win the approval of my apathetic father. So…I’m going to go get a job as an accountant. As soon as I remember where the door is.”
“Defindo,” said Trixie, cutting the leather reins that held her and Fluttershy to their housing. She then started toward the door, but collapsed.
“Trixie!” cried Fluttershy, moving to help the other pony up.
“The Weak and Anemic Trixie is feeling a little…woozy,” said Trixie. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone for the extra cookie…”
“Hold on,” said Fluttershy, lifting Trixie onto her back. Then, with great difficulty, she pulled her newfound friend toward the door to the stable.
“Alo…hamora,” whispered Trixie, unlocking the door. Fluttershy reached up to turn the knob, only to find that a doorknob was impossible to turn with hooves. She struggled for a moment before turning to the unicorn on her back. “Trixie! I can’t do it on my own!”
“Need more…peanut…butter…” moaned Trixie.
The door handle then spontaneously turned. The door swung open, and Otto stepped in.
“Otto!” squeaked Fluttershy, stepping back. “Please, don’t- -”
“Hurry!” he said, gesturing toward the door. “While they’re distracted! Go!”
“You- -you want us to escape?”
“Of course! Quickly, there isn’t much time!”
Fluttershy was shocked, but quickly came to hers senses. She would normally have been petrified to be in this situation, but with Trixie anemic, it all came down to her. She nodded, and pushed her way through the door.
“Be free, tiny horses! Be FREE!” called Otto after them.
By this time, spells and bullets were flying everywhere through the warehouse. Sweetie Belle had surrounded herself with a number of autonomous charms and jinxes that she ran simultaneously, striking from every angle in a way that any being lacking a magical organ sticking out of his or her forehead would hardly even be able to comprehend, let alone accomplish. Behind her, Sunflower had ducked behind cover and was nowhere near out of ammunition. Humph was being Humph.
Ivan, meanwhile, stood in the center of the chaos, periodically sipping on his potion. He enjoyed the pretty colors of the spells going off, and he only seldom had to dodge a passing curse. It did not especially concern him.
Then, from across the room, a small Asian Scot emerged from a door to the lower levels and locked eyes with Ivan. She immediately recognized him, and her expression hardened. She then completely ignored the spells around her, pushing past her comrades. When any of them got in her way, she picked them up and threw them.
When she was within range, she started sprinting. Within seconds, she was moving quickly, and she expected the long-nosed man in her path to run or try to dodge. That would make it fun. Instead, he just kept standing there, smiling, and it infuriated Liu to no end. She sprinted even faster, and he still did not budge. Then, with all her strength, she punched him in the gut.
Normally, getting punched in the gut by a fifteen year old girl would only be mildly painful. Liu was somewhat unique in more than one way, though. As one of only a few dragon animagi in history, she had unique attributes that other animagi did not. One was that her strength partially carried over to her human form. A full-strength punch could crack through reinforced concrete. Against a human target, it was a death sentence.
The blow struck Ivan, but he still did not move. Liu felt it connect, but it was like punching solid steel- -or extraordinarily dense wax. It did not matter, though. The impact may not have sent him flying backward, but that just meant that his organs had absorbed enough force to crush a truck engine block like an aluminium can. She smiled, knowing that she had just gotten her revenge.
“Hm,” said Ivan, Liu’s fist still in his gut. “Ivan is feeling the hungry…wonders if would be making the borsch for lunch…”
Liu’s eyes widened. “How- -how are you still alive?!” she cried. “How are you not even in pain?!”
Ivan nonchalantly took a sip of his potion. “The magic,” he said, dismissively. Then his expression hardened. “You cannot hurt Ivan in such a way. Am Soviet. Eat Mosin-Nagant for breakfast. Without any miwkies.”
Liu jumped back. She had heard about a race of Soviet wizards, but had never seen them for herself. She reached for her wand, only to find that it was missing. This compounded her disorientation, but her next course of action immediately became clear to her. Her shock quickly faded, and she laughed. “Oh boy,” she said. “This IS going to be fun!”
Her body warped, and several nearby wizards were thrown out of the way as she metamorphosed into a full-grown, fire-breathing dragon. Ivan looked up at her, and felt his hat quiver with fear.
“Yes,” he said. “That is correct, leetle friend. It is time.”
He reached into his pocket and removed the tiny bottle of glowing potion. He flipped off the lid and downed it. Barely seconds passed before he flexed and hulked out of all his clothing, leaving him three times his previous size, twenty times his previous muscle mask, and dressed only in an ushakna, seven gold watches, and a hammer-and-sickle belt buckle around what was left of his trousers. The force of the communism was so strong that he simultaneously sprouted Brezhnev eyebrows and a Stalin moustache.
Ivan stared at his opponent, his eyes narrowed to black points for the first time in a long time. Then he roared wildly toward nothing in particular as he charged the dragon.
As Ivan entered a magical fistfight with Liu, across the warehouse, Sunflower ducked for cover behind a rack of strange metal spheres and crystalline skulls as she reloaded. She cursed herself for not having taken ponyjuice potion before entering the fight; although she was stronger and faster in her natural form, her body was a much larger target. She had only narrowly avoided a disintegration spell that had scorched part of her side, as well as several smaller spells that had left scratches on her front legs.
Her reprieve in cover was short lived. A witch was attempting to flank her. The woman, clearly, was an idiot. Sunflower raised one of her pistols, and was about to pull the trigger when she hesitated. There was just no sport in doing it at point-blank range.
“Is that a gun?” laughed the witch. “Seriously? I guess it’s true! You’re just a dumb animal! You centaurs are no better than common horses. I mean, what’s a gun supposed to do against me? I have MAGIC!”
“You’re the one taunting a woman with a gun.”
“WOMAN!” chortled the witch. “That’s RICH! You’re just a BEAST! In fact, I’ll even give you a chance. Just surrender. My kids would love to have a new pony to pull their sleigh at Chistmastime.”
Sunflower just sighed and pulled the trigger on her gun. The witch raised her wand.
“Protego,” she said, feigning a yawn. The bullet struck the shield, but since the spell had been lazily and sloppily constructed, it did not compensate for the explosive charge in the end of the bullet. The second explosion shot a feedback wave through the witch’s wand, splintering it instantaneously.
“W- -what?” cried the witch, now on the verge of tears. “That was an heirloom…”
“Have you ever heard the expression ‘Why didn’t Potter just use a Gun’?” Sunflower gently kicked the witch out of the way. “Now go away, new muggle, I have work to.”
As a griffon, Gisla did not have any innate magic. She could not use a wand, nor could she cast any manner of spell. Of course, that had never been necessary for her kind to lord over humanity for millennia as de-facto gods. When she entered the battle, she immediately approached a large and unassuming crate. With one quick swipe of one of her claws, she tore through the wood and the contents spilled out onto the floor.
Reaching down, she picked up on of the weapons. She dusted off the top surface, seeing her father’s noble seal still ingrained in the metal of the weapons’ stock. From the other side of the box, she picked up a modular magazine with an Unlimited Ammunition charm. Even after seventy four years, they were still just as functional as the day they had been created.
“Ehre sei das ein wahres Königreich,” she said to herself as she rounded a corner and opened fire.
The wizards in the room were smart enough to jump out of the way. A few mandrakes were not, and they were shredded into the equivalent of mashed potatoes. A few bullets even sprayed into Liu and Ivan, both of whom were locked in combat, but neither seemed to notice. They were not Gisla’s primary target anyway.
She concentrated fire on the area where she knew where the centaur was hiding. As she advanced forward, she licked her lips, savoring the smell of the gun as it heated up and anticipating the taste of freshly roasted centaur. That is, if there was any usable meat left.
Sweetie Belle barely managed to duck out of the way in time to avoid the bullets. Her momentary lapse in concentration caused her spells to shut down around her. As they did, she realized just how exhausted she had become. Her special talent was not for magic, after all. The only way she was able to do so much was because human magic was so incredibly easy. She was just a filly, though, and she immediately realized that the other side was playing for keeps. This terrified her, and for a moment she froze.
As she did, though, a wizard was slung down from the catwalk above. His arms, it seemed, had been replaced with his legs and his legs replaced with his arms. It was an unfortunate and unpleasant sight. Worse was the fact that he landed on a mandrake, and it whined in anger and annoyance. This time, Sweetie Belle did not have time to cover her ears. She heard the sound it made.
She was not paralyzed, though. In fact, she immediately realized that the sound was not even that complex. It was really just a matter of seven independent notes, all of which existed in a kind of harmonic vibrado with upticks on every third sixty-fourth note. Several of them were far, far higher than the range of human hearing and several were far lower. All were within Sweetie Belle’s natural vocal range.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “I can make that sound!”
Turning away from the struggling mandrake and the now partially frozen man with the mismatched limbs, Sweetie Belle took a deep breath- -deeper than any she had ever taken- -and leapt out into the gunfire.
Before any of the bullets could hit her, she screamed. She hit the combination of notes necessary to create a mandrake cry perfectly, and the result was immediate. Many of the wizards who had ducked to avoid Gisla’s machinegun fire suddenly froze in awkward positions, and at least five soiled themselves. Then the wave hit the unusually large and aggressive looking griffon across the room, and she was knocked back. She struggled for a moment, reaching for her feather-hidden ear holes, but Sweetie Belle continued the cry. Within ten seconds, the griffon’s legs began to stiffen. She fell forward, her red-hot gun clattering away from her. Just for safe measure, Sweetie Belle continued the blast for another twenty seconds- -and then passed out from lack of oxygen.
Trixie was heavy. Unusually so, as a product of poor diet and general excess. Fluttershy, being extremely soft and not at all muscular, was having extreme difficulty moving her through the hallways that lead to their escape. Moving TOWARD the sound of fighting also went against every cowardly instinct she naturally held as well.
That was when she heard something slithering in the dark shadows of the unlit corridor. Fluttershy squeaked in terror, and backed toward a small area lit by a dim and flickering indandescent light bulb.
Whatever it was moved again, and Fluttershy thought she saw it. She nearly fainted. Then something as tall as she was approached her from the shadows.
Fluttershy nearly fainted- -until she saw that it was a truly gigantic, long-fanged snake. It was not alone, either; there were several more behind it.
“Oh,” said Fluttershy, laughing at how silly she had been. “It’s just an adorable little creature.” She then looked them in the eye and addressed the snakes in their native language.
The snakes, surprised to have found a parselmouth, looked at each other, puzzled. Then they explained to Fluttershy that they had just been hatched and were both confused and scared and had no idea where their mother was, or why they had not been born from chicken eggs. Fluttershy did her best to calm them down.
Once that had been settled, she explained her situation. The baby basilisks were more than sympathetic and agreed to help. A pair of them took Trixie from Fluttershy and helped carry her. As Trixie was transferred, she stirred. “Oh Starlight,” she said, hugging the snake’s back. “Yes I will marry you and Twilight, even if you have really clammy dry skin…”
Wizard dueling was not Humph’s specialty. He had never had cause to fight anyone, and spent most of his time with muggles. As such, his reaction speed and repertoire of abilities was not highly varied.
A wizard approached him from the front, and Humph raised his wand.
“Take a leedk!” he cried, firing several of the onion-like vegetables at the approaching wizard. The opponent was surprised, at first, but then started to push through the vegetables before dicing them with his wand- -until Humph accidentally summoned a sack of frozen oranges that beamed the wizard into unconsciousness.
“Oops,” said Humph. “Sorry, I didn’t- -wait a darn dirty minute, who keeps FROZEN oranges?!”
Ignoring that, he leaned down to pick one up. As he did, the space above him distorted as a disintegration spell grazed his back, vaporizing a hole in the wall near him.
Humph looked at his own wand. “That wasn’t me,” he said, hoping it was not. He stood up and turned around to see a familiar witch pointing a long, sparking wand at him.
“Oh, hey!” said Humph.
“Lacarnum inflamare!” shouted the witch. Her wand sparked and she was forced partially back by the immense recoil, but as she spoke a six-foot-wide sphere of fire shot from her wand.
“Extinguishus!” said Humph, raising his own wand. Water shot from the tip of his wand in a torrent- -or at least he thought it was water until he smelled the signature aroma of petrol. The result was a small detonation that disrupted the fireball before it could reach him. Although he was singed, he was otherwise fine.
“Defodio!” screamed the witch, advancing forward.
Humph tried to dodge, but instead slipped on an orange. When he fell, a random spell shot out of his wand. Those, in his opinion, were always the best kind.
It struck the witch in the ankle, immediately turning her over as it raised her up by that limb. She cried out and blushed as she grabbed at her long skirt to keep it from falling open.
“Oops,” said Humph. “Sorry!”
The witch gracefully shifted, freeing herself from the spell. She raised her wand and opened her mouth to fire another ridiculous spell, but Humph reacted quickly, summoning an especially fat leek in her open mouth. As she tried to remove it, he jumped down from the catwalk and started sprinting.
“No you don’t!” she shouted, leaping after him.
“Obscuro!” retorted Humph, pointing his wand over his shoulder. A blindfold appeared over the witch’s eyes, and, unable to see, she landed hard against the ground and several buckets.
Humph, meanwhile, shifted into his thylacine form and ducked between two large bookcases. Maggie managed to get her blindfold off just enough to see this happen. She stood up, repairing her broken bones and tendons and shifting her own body into that of a thin pre-teen girl. She used her wand to resize her clothing and dashed after Humph, using her now smaller form to navigate the passages that her adult body would be too fat to get through.
At this point, Humph was at a disadvantage. As far as he knew, thylacines were not able to talk, nor could they hold wands- -let alone would he be able to find out exactly where his went when he transformed- -but Maggie was still able to cast spells with ease. Bolts of light in every color shot past Humph, and he skittered around on the floor trying to avoid them.
For a moment, he thought he had lost her, and he came skidding around a corner and nearly ran into Sunfower. He barely managed to stop, and then only by converting himself back into his human form.
“Oh, Sunflower, thank goodness! I’m getting chased by a crazy witch with some kind of super-wand and an average bust size! Well, mayble just a little bit below average- -but that’s not the point!”
“Don’t worry,” said Sunflower. “I’m on it.”
“Oh, by the way,” said Humph, standing up. “I don’t know how you do it, but throughout this whole fight, how are you keeping your tail so perfect? It looks amazing!”
“Oh,” said Sunflower, looking back at her tail. “Thank you. I’m glad you like- -”
She was silenced by a sudden punch to the face. She screamed and took a step back, the sudden surprise agony causing Maggie to revert to her normal form.
“HA!” said Humph. “I knew my inkling was inkle! I was thirty percent sure you were a fake! You may be cute, but you’re no Sunflower!”
“I think you broke my nose, you bloody git!” said Sunflower.
“Oops. Sorry. Hold on.” Humph raised his wand. “Reparo!”
The resulting detonation knocked them both back, with Maggie flying into a shelf and Humph tumbling across the floor and barely avoiding getting stepped on by Liu, who Ivan was now forcing to hit herself with her own hand.
Humph did not miss a beat, though. He raised his wand just as Maggie raised hers. “Duckiflors!” he cried. A bolt of golden light struck Maggie’s wand, and it instantly shimmered and shifted, exploding into a duck.
“Wh- -WHAT?” shouted Maggie. “How is that possibly reasonable?!”
“Wow,” said Humph, looking in amazement at the crimped straw that he called a wand. “That hair really IS great and powerful!”
Maggie dropped the duck and reached for her original wand. By the time she got it out of her robes, though, Humph was already on top of her- -literally. He held her hand back, and she punched him repeatedly. Being unable to feel pain, though, Humph hardly noticed.
They rolled around for several minutes before Maggie cried out.
“Wait a minute!” she said. “Hold on! Stop! I’m starting to enjoy it!”
Humph stopped. He was straddling her, and he looked down at the place where their bodies met.
“Is that what I feel?” he said. “Um…are you…”
“A woman? Well, I’m a metamorphomagus, so I can go either way…”
“Ah…so that’s…”
“Yeah.”
They both blushed. “Do we really have to do this?” asked Humph.
Maggie blushed even harder and her eyes widened. “Do- -do what?” she sputtered.
“Fight,” said Humph. “I mean, I’m just here to save my friends.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah. My pony friends. Trixie and Fluttershy.”
“The unicorns? They’re…your friends?”
“Fluttershy’s a Pegasus, but yes. Friends. I mean, what did you think? They’re sentient creatures, not livestock.”
“Oh,” said Maggie. “So…you’re not an evil dark wizard?”
“Nope. Just a necromancer. And even then, only marginally.”
At that point, Sunflower rounded the corner, firing several shots into the direction of the nearest wizards. When she took cover, she saw Humph straddling a familiar woman and immediately froze.
“YOU!” She cried. “What- -what are you doing?! Get off her, you pervert!”
“Oops,” said Humph, blushing and standing up.
“‘Oops’- -if I had more than one clip left, I’d shoot you! And I’m going to shoot here right now!”
“Actually,” said Humph, watching a silent black mist creeping over the ground. “I think we have a bigger problem.”
He leaned out of cover and looked out into the battlefield. A number of wizards were lying and moaning in various stages of magical injury, mostly as a result of Sweetie Belle’s paralyzing scream. On the far end of the room, Ivan and Liu had converted back into their human forms and, though bruised and battered, continued their fight in the most wizardly way possible: by taking turns slapping each other in the face.
The mist grew increasingly thick, though, and in the distance several tall black-cloaked figures emerged.
“Oh, great,” said Maggie. “NOW they show up.”
Sweetie Belle, who was just starting to regain consciousness, looked up to see a dark figure crossing silently toward her. He turned his head slowly in her direction. His face was covered in a silver mask, but Sweetie Belle could hear him so clearly that it was as if his mouth were mere inches from her ears.
“The…unicorn. Our blood.”
The figure reached out a long-fingered hand, and Sweetie Belle immediately felt as awake as she ever had.
“Repelo- -inamicum!” she choked. She had badly strained her voice, and the highest she could speak was barely above a whisper. From the shimmer of the spell that surrounded her, though, it appeared that it worked, at least weakly.
As soon as she called out the name of the spell, she heard a different spell from behind her.
“Accio adorable!”
Sweetie Belle felt herself picked up and drawn quickly out of the dark-cloaked man’s reach, pulled backward into Humph’s grasp. The figure’s head slowly turned as she moved, its dark, unseen eyes never leaving her.
Then it stepped forward. There was a wave of distortion as Sweetie Belle’s spell suddenly became visible and it burned into the man’s surface. As far as Sweetie Belle knew, no living thing would be able to pass the barrier.
This man, however, did. A moment after passing, he sort of slumped to one side. Then the red gem below his hood sparked, and he returned to his normal state. The others behind him immediately began to advance as well, with each passing through the spell with only a few moments of hindrance.
“Bloody blood!” cried Sunflower, raising her pistols and unloading them into the nearest of the advancing dark wizards. Each bullet struck, but the figures did not even try to dodge. They just absorbed the bullets, hardly noticing any form of injury.
“What- -what in the name of vibrating broomsticks ARE THEY?” cried Sunflower angrily as she finally ran out of bullets.
“Sweetie Belle,” said Humph, still holding her. “Can you do that sonic screech thing again?”
Sweetie Belle shook her head. “No,” she croaked. “I’ve lost my voice!”
“So you’re a little hoarse?”
Groaning, Sweetie Belle conjured a magical silver hand and slapped Humph.
“It won’t work,” said Maggie. “They’re inferi Death Eaters. You can’t hurt them. In fact, I would say all three of you are totally stuffed.”
“But I’m not hungry at all,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Wait a minute,” said Humph, dropping the unicorn he was holding. “Inferi? That means they’re already dead!” He grinned wildly and turned toward the advancing horde. “That means I can use my most powerful spell!”
“I just told you,” said Maggie. “A killing curse won’t work on them. They’re already dead!”
“Just watch,” said Humph stepping forward.
“No, you idiot, get back here!” cried Sunflower.
“Don’t worry about it, this’ll be easy. You might want to cover your ears, though.”
“Wait,” said Sweetie Belle, “why?”
Humph approached the Death Eater. He raised his wand, but so did his opponent. Before Rott could speak, though, Humph called out his spell.
“Expelliarmbus!”
The resulting explosion was so powerful that it sent Sweetie Belle flying backward into Maggie and even knocked Ivan and Liu- -both of whom were totally oblivious to the Death Eaters- -to the ground. The force was so great that it even shattered Sweetie Belle’s perimeter spell. Strangely, though, there was no explosion. Before Sweetie Belle had been thrown by the force, she had just seen the Death Eater vanish, his body imploding into a plume of black soot.
The other Death Eaters stopped, looking to the small crater where their comrade had once been standing.
“What- -what in the name of all that is holy did you just do?!” cried Sunflower, her volume in part because of her temporary deafness.
“The ‘expelliarmbus’ spell,” said Humph, looking back at her. “It causes every molecular bond in a person’s body to simultaneously decompose. Full intrinsic subtraction in any material object. Neat, huh?”
“That- -that’s NOT what it does! How did you even THINK that is POSSIBLY the correct action of a spell called ‘expel’-‘i’-‘armus’?!”
Humph looked confused. “Wait…you mean this isn’t what it’s supposed to do?”
“NO!”
Humph looked at his wand, then back at Sunflower. “But isn’t that the spell that hairy kid used to murder that Grindenwald-knockoff political revolutionary back in ’96?”
“What are you- -NO! NO, you IDIOT! Well, he did, but that’s not the point! It was supposed to be a beautiful display of righteous pacifism where he used a purely defensive, nonlethal spell after offering his mortal enemy a chance at redemption!”
“Uh…no. According to your books, he systematically murdered the guy by hunting down every single one of horcruxes and destroying his immortal soul one piece at a time. They brutally murdered a dude without even taking the time to hear out his ideology.”
“Kind of like you’re doing here?” noted Sweetie Belle.
“No! I’m not killing anyone! Expelliarmbus!”
Another Death Eater vaporized. One lunged at Humph, though, but Sweetie Belle leveled her horn at it. “Expelliarmbus!”
The Death Eater exploded in a plume of ash. Sweetie Belle was shocked that she was able to do that, but suddenly felt her confidence rise to Trixie-high levels. Using it for that purpose, though, was wrenching for her insides and immediately made her feel nauseous and drained.
Humph, meanwhile, just continued to do it with impudence. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself. More Death Eaters were coming, though, and Sunflower finally decided to act.
“Come on,” she said, picking up Sweetie Belle and putting the unicorn filly on her back. “Can you do a shield? Around me?”
“Y- -yes, I think I can.”
“Do it.”
Sweetie Belle did, and before the spell was even complete, Sunflower charged forward. She trampled several wizards in the process, but managed to kick a Death Eater in the face, knocking away his skeletal mask and revealing the gaunt skull beneath. As disgusting as having something like that touching her hooves was, she still pressed forward, picking up Humph and slinging him over her back before charging forward, leaving Maggie behind to watch.
“ACK!” squealed Humph, his eyes widening. “Too high! TOO HIGH!”
“You idiot, do you have any idea what an honor this is for you? Now run defense or- -”
“Too high! I’m going to fall off!” He slid forward and wrapped his arms exceedingly tightly around Sunflower’s midriff. As insulting as it was, the centaur found that she actually somewhat liked it.
“If your hands move any higher, I really WILL throw you off,” she warned. “Sweetie! Looks like it’s up to you!”
Sweetie Bell nodded and expanded her shield, charging it with offensive portions of spells that lashed out at the dark wizards. Although she was not able to vaporize them and keep the shield at the same time, she was at least able to knock them back or sometimes light them on fire.
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 16: The Death Eater
Sweetie Belle was not sure where Sunflower was going until they reached a large door on the far side of the warehouse, one that led to a lower level. As they passed, Humph actually managed to be mildly useful and closed the door with his wand. Sweetie Belle, copying the sealing spell that Ivan had used on his mysterious floor-hatch, locked it.
Sunflower slowed to a trot, and Sweetie Belle- -aware of the irony of an equine riding another equine- -jumped off. Humph had to be thrown.
“Oh wow,” he said, curling into a fetal position. “I’ve fantasized about that hundreds of times, but it is SO much more terrifying in real life!”
Sunflower helped him to his feet, and then punched him square in the nose.
“That’s for thinking dirty thoughts about me!” shouted Sunflower. “And for not appreciating me permitting you to ride me!”
“I’m getting mixed messages,” said Humph, holding his nose and doubling over.
“What about Ivan?” said Sweetie Belle, suddenly realizing that they had forgotten him.
“He just fist-fought a dragon,” said Sunflower. “He’ll be fine.”
Sweetie Belle agreed with a nod, and the group slowly started walking in the only direction that was available to them- -down. This led them to an underground area that appeared to have been subdivided from a large, single storage room or a parking structure.
Almost the first thing they ran into was an enormous, well-lit laboratory. Several of the machines were running, and a sharp-featured man was standing in it. As soon as he saw them entered, he just turned around and shouted at them. “Who the bloody heck are you?”
Sweetie Belle paid little attention to him, though. Across the room, she saw a different entrance- -and saw Fluttershy enter, out of breath and followed by a horde of immense snakes, one of which was toting Trixie.
“Fluttershy!” cried Sweetie Belle.
“Sweetie Belle!” replied Fluttershy. Tears of relief flooded to her eyes. She started to run forward, only to be stopped as a black mist began to fill the room.
“Oh no,” said the man who had already been there. “Not this again…”
Several tall figures stepped out of the darkness- -and then many more than several. Humph raised his wand, and Sweetie Belle her horn. As they did, though, the figures stepped back, clearing an area in the center of the floor. As they did, the black mist condensed.
A new figure emerged. He was dressed in a similar dark cloak, but his mask was far more ornate. Unlike the others, he was the height of a normal man. The crystal brooch he wore was larger than the others, and shaped like a star with curving arms.
“Wait a minute,” said Sunflower, her eyes narrowing as she took a defensive stance. “That’s an Origin Stone!”
The Death Eater- -the only human among countless mindless, undead drones- -took several steps forward and then stopped, standing still.
“Of course,” he sighed, his voice distorted through his mask. “Of course you would do this, Humph.”
“Do what?” demanded Sweetie Belle, her confidence still high from her newfound power to eliminate physical objects with barely a thought. “Aside from make a ridiculously expensive mess that he can’t possibly ever pay to clean up?”
“What? No, I can totally pay for it!” Humph leaned to the non-Death Eater man and whispered loudly. “No I can’t! I don’t have any money!”
The Death Eater reached up to his face and took hold of his mask. He removed it and pulled back his hood. The entire room gaped.
Humph lowered his wand. “Wait…VINCE?”
“Vincent,” corrected Vincent. “And yes. It’s me. I mean, the whole ‘army of the undead’? Do you really think there’s any other necromancer that can accomplish that? I mean, you sure can’t.”
“Yes I can!” Humph once again leaned toward the man. “No I can’t!” he whispered.
“Why do you keep telling me things?”
“Well, it’s not the worst twist,” said Sweetie Belle shrugging. “I mean, it’s not like any of us were replaced with a clone by a greasy space cannibal.”
“That’s oddly specific,” said Sunflower. “And profoundly idiotic.”
“I think I might have been replaced,” said Humph. “I’ve just been so ichy lately…”
“Excuse me,” said Vincent. “Death Eater here. And you aren’t the least bit afraid?”
Fluttershy raised her hoof from behind him. “I peed a little,” she volunteered. “I mean, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Wait,” said Humph. “So, you’re the Death Eater? Like, seriously?”
Vincent nodded. “I have been. This whole time. I would have been in the war if I had been born at the time.”
“So…you’re the one who wanted to bring that Voldemort guy back to life?”
The strange man in the room’s eyes widened. “Wait,” he said, turning toward Vincent angrily. “You didn’t say anything about that!”
Vincent shrugged. “Well, what did you think I needed all that unicorn blood for?”
“But that won’t work!” said Sunflower. “It’s impossible! His horcruxes were destroyed! There’s nothing left to resurrect!”
Vincent smiled. “Well, yes. But only if you believe that magic is the epitome of human ability, or the lie that the soul is essential for human life. With our self-imposed exile, we’ve been left to live in the intellectual squalor, wallowing in archaic ideas that we are ‘better’ than muggles. While Grindenwald was perfecting his killing curse and undead army? They were making the atom bomb.”
“What’s an atom bomb?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Ask Ivan later,” said Humph.
Vincent continued. “We have more than enough genetic material to bring him back through modern cloning. The trouble is integrating his lost engrams back into the shell to reconstruct his mind. That process needs to be done by magic. And the only way for the Dark Lord to survive is to replace his blood with, well, yours.” He leered at Sweetie Belle.
“But why?” said the man, stepping forward. “The Dark Lord was a monster! A madman! You’re standing here telling me you’re going to use muggle technology to bring him back? Hypocrite!”
Vincent just laughed. “You misunderstand what I’m trying to create. I don’t need a leader, a pointless moral figure to rally around. He won’t have volition, or free will, or a soul. His only purpose will be to give me access to his knowledge.” His expression suddenly hardened. “Because that FOOL Potter, in his complete ignorance and ARROGANT views of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ destroyed the greatest mind in a generation. I mean, think of the things Voldemort could have taught us. The limits of the dark arts, and how to transcend them. A means to unify life and death!”
“And you- -I can’t believe it,” said the man, “I- -I was going to sell you the blood!”
“Oh, no,” said Vincent. “You were going to give me the blood, and then I was going to murder you all.” He shrugged. “In fact, if it hadn’t been for that little white filly, you’d be a Death Eater by now.” He motioned toward one of the Rotts standing around him. Vincent then raised his wand, pointing it toward Humph. “And I was hoping to do it without the Brotherhood catching on. I was hoping to keep this as my personal project and stay nice and squeaky clean. But, you know, these stooges can’t be trusted with this. And neither can you. Avad- -”
“Interuptus!”
Vincent paused. Then he started again. “Avada- -”
“Interuptus!”
Vincent angrily lowered his wand. “Stop that! You’re not even casting a spell, you’re just saying ‘interuptus’!”
Vincent’s wand suddenly burst with a bizarre surge of orange light, the result of him holding it while saying Humph’s spell name. Sweetie Belle was not sure if that had been intentional or not; based on past experience, she leaned toward believing that it was dumb luck.
She did not waste her chance, though, and neither did Humph. She ducked to the left, and he to the right.
“Stupify!” she called.
“Alohamora!” called Humph.
Vincent handily deflected Sweetie Belle’s spell, and did not bother to dodge Humph’s spell. When it hit him, though, his robes burst into flames, a side-effect of Humph performing the unlocking spell profoundly incorrectly.
“Accio SPINE!” screamed Vincent, flicking his wand toward Humph.
Sweetie Belle responded by summoning a large cactus to block the spell from reaching Humph. As soon as the spell hit it, the various needles shot out of it surface and flew toward Vincent, forcing him to repel them with a flame spell.
“Legilimens!” shouted Humph as Vincent was distracted. The spell struck him in the head. Vincent screamed madly, reaching for his head. His inferi faltered for a moment, and Sweetie Belle saw his Origin Stone spark.
“The IMAGES!” screamed Vincent. “Centaurs in socks! Why? WHY?!”
Eugene backed up to Sunflower. He looked at the guns on her tactical holster. “You’re good with guns, right?”
“You can bet your muggle but,” she said.
“Here.” He removed a coin from his pocket and flipped it. A Vanishing Kalashnikov appeared. “Use this.”
“Soviet guns are crap,” said Sunflower. Somewhere, Ivan shivered. “But it will work.”
Vincent, now stumbling, pointed at Humph. “Get him!” he shouted, just as Sunflower opened fire. The inferi shielded Vincent and rushed toward Humph, who fired several leeks at them.
Sweetie Belle sprung into action, sliding across the floor and reaching out not with a human spell but with her default magic. She grasped the Origin Stone around Vincent’s neck and tore it free. It went surprisingly deep, and removing it was apparently not pleasant for the man. Once it was removed, though, his inferi jolted and then collapsed.
“Give me that back, you little- -ACCIO KALASHNIKOV!”
Sunflower’s gun was pulled free of her hands, and Vincent vaporized it.
“Hey!” said Humph. “That’s not fair! You should at least- -”
“AVADA KEDAVRA!”
Green light shot from Vincent’s wand and struck Humph in the chest. Sunflower screamed, but Sweetie Belle had no idea why. Humph’s eyes widened, and then he collapsed backward into a pile of inferi before lying still on the ground.
“HA!” shouted Vincent. “I WIN! You were a terrible necromancer anyway, you know you deserved that! And now- -”
His eyes widened and his words caught in his throat as Humph groaned and started to stand up.
“Does one of these inferi have keys in his pocket?” he said, rubbing his rear. “Because I think I felt them. At least, I hope those were keys.”
“How- -how- -” Vincent looked at his wand. The spell had been performed correctly, as he had performed it countless thousands of times. Humph had not dodged. It had been a direct hit. Shaken but undeterred, he pointed his wand at his former friend again. “Avada kedavra!”
Another beam of green energy struck Humph in the chest. Humph shook slightly, but this time he did not fall. “WhoHOOhoo,” he said. “That feels really, REALLY weird!”
“But that’s- -that’s IMPOSSIBLE!” screamed Vincent. “No one survives that curse! No human being can block or avert it! No human can survive!”
“Oh,” said Humph. “That probably explains it, then. I’m not actually human. I’m an evolutionarily advanced boggart.”
The whole room went silent for almost a minute. Then Sunflower shouted.
“You’re WHAT?”
“A boggart,” said Humph, shrugging. “I mean, I always have been.”
“And you didn’t tell us this WHY?”
“Well, it’s one of those things I knew but that I forgot I knew. You know, like what the capital of North Dakota is.”
“You forgot- -you- -you are a- -” Sunflower fell silent. “You know what? You know what? With the way this has been going, I can’t even withstand to be incredulous anymore.”
“So,” said Sweetie Belle. “You’re a boggart…named Humphry?”
The entire room took a second to get the joke, and then they all groaned at the same time. Even Fluttershy’s snakes, all of whom had been patiently watching, hissed in disapproval.
“But that doesn’t make any sense! At ALL!” cried Vincent. “You should be my worst fear, then!”
Humph’s voice dropped several octaves. “But I’m already your worst nightmare!”
“Riddikulus,” said Sweetie Belle, pointing her horn at Humph. An oversized straw sombrero appeared on his head.
“And now I’m wearing a silly hat,” said Humph. He reached up and touched the brim. “Hmm…this his actually really high quality.”
“Avada kedavra!”
Another green blast hit Humph, and he did not even respond this time except with a sigh. “Come on, Vince. Give it up. I’m a being made out of magical protoplasm. You might as well be trying to kill a dementor or a poltergeist. Or like trying to get mould out of grout. I’ll just keep coming back.”
Vincent glared at him, but then lowered his wand. “I don’t know if you’re telling the truth. I don’t know what you are, actually. But you’re not immortal. I’ll figure something out…so you’ll have to wait.” He turned sharply toward Fluttershy and Trixie. “So, onto the next one! Guess what? I only need the UNICORNS!” He raised his wand and pointed it at Fluttershy. “Avada- -”
Fluttershy’s young basilisks apparently took grave offense to this. One leapt forward with incredible speed and strength. It sailed through the air, and Vincent’s eyes widened as he barely managed to deflect it- -only for another one to sink its fangs into his upper shoulder and another to attach to his leg. Fluttershy cried out in confusion and fear and ran wildly into the room, trying to get away from danger.
“Expulso!” said Trixie, barely conscious but still managing to raise her wand in the magic from her horn. A small explosion knocked Vincent forward, and he slammed into a counter. The snakes were dislodged by the blast, but the damage had already been done. Several wide holes were visible in his neck.
“Holy crap!” cried Humph as Vincent went into convulsions, barely managing to hold himself up on the counter. He approached his friend, but Vincent forced himself away. “Come on, Vince, we have to get you to a hospital! Right now!”
“Marvin can get to St. Mungos in five minutes,” said Eugene, stepping forward. “If we can stop the bleeding- -”
Vincent nearly passed out, then suddenly burst into sardonic laughter.
“Vince?”
“Don’t bother,” he said, his voice cracking as his body began to fail. “There’s only one cure for basilisk venom…” He flicked open a small metal briefcase. “But there’s also one cure for death itself!”
With his one working hand shaking badly, Vincent reached into the case and removed a vial of silvery fluid. He bit the lid off with his teeth and spat out.
“Vince, wait,” said Humph. “Don’t do anything rash!”
“Rash? HA! I’m being quite logical, in fact. This may be my best idea ever! It all makes sense now, I can’t see why I never saw it before! Venom of a basilisk, blood of a unicorn- -unstopable death, and unstoppable life. I don’t think Voldemort will miss one vial.”
Before anyone could stop him, Vincent tipped the glass vial to his mouth, swallowing the contents.
“Hey!” cried Trixie, despite her weakness clearly offended by the sight. “That’s Trixie’s blood! I didn’t give you permission to do that!”
Vincent ignored him, and threw the glass against the ground, shattering it. He then stood up straight, no longer showing any signs of weakness or poisoning. As he flexed his now repaired arm, the color from his face began to fade. His skin became pale, then white, with even his freckles disappearing. His blue eyes became washed out to gray, then to silver, and his red hair began to grow and whiten.
Sweetie Belle took a step back. She was not sure if the others could feel it, but she knew that Trixie could- -as unicorns, they were more sensitive to magic than other creatures. The creature that had been Vincent was almost hemorrhaging magic now. Sweetie Belle could almost feel the heat- -it was like he was burning up inside.
“It’s perfect,” said Vincent, lifting his head and smiling as his features reconfigured into an almost hyperbolically perfect version of a human face. He looked down at the hole from the basilisk fang. It was still there, but it had blackened. The wound was still poisoning him; he was just unable to die from it. “I never knew it would feel like this! The junction between Life and Death!”
“Vince, what have you done?” whispered Humph.
Vincent’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to Humph. He raised one of his hands, and a blast of white light shot out, flinging Humph backward with tremendous force. Humph struck a column of equipment so hard that a running centrifuge that he hit cracked and destabilized, tearing itself apart and dropping onto the floor next to him.
The strength of the blast apparently surprised Vincent as well. He looked down at his hand, confused, and then laughed. He removed his wand. “Well,” he said. “I won’t be needing this anymore, will I?”
He clenched his fist around the wand, and it sizzled and disintegrated into embers from his magic. He began to walk toward Humph, and as he did, he began to convert his black robes into white.
“Impedamentum!” shouted Sweetie Belle. The spell hit Vincent, but he did not even bother to react. The corona of magic surrounding his body. Trixie also managed a few weak blasts, but hers were even weaker than Sweetie Belle’s. At this point, nothing was able to stop the wizard.
“Oh my coccyx,” said Humph as he sat up. He leaned back, looking up at the beautiful wizard now standing above him.
“I’m going to kill you now,” said Vincent. “I’m going to kill them all. All except the unicorns. Them I’ll bleed. But don’t worry. I’ll dissect you. Find out what you really are. Or maybe I’ll just bring you back as an inferi and make you my personal piñata.” He raised one of his hands, and it began to charge with green light.
“HUMPH!” shouted Sunflower. “DO SOMETHING, YOU IDIOT!”
“Something?” said Humph, his eyes falling on the pieces of the broken centrifuge. He reached out and plucked a vial that had been spinning down out of it. “How about I fight me some fire with fire?”
Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened. “Humph, NO!” she cried. She started to rush forward, but she was stopped by the strong grip of an unusually cold hoof on her shoulder. She looked up to see that Fluttershy had stopped her.
Humph popped the lid to the blood vial and swallowed the contents. Almost as soon as he did, he shivered. “Whoa,” he said. “That was a REALLY unexpected flavour. Not bad, but…weird.”
He barely got that sentence out when his body exploded with transformation. One of his arms cracked and twisted as it shot out, bending and warping, his skin hardening to hideous cracked plates and exploding with vicious bone spines. The rest of his body seemed to fold around himself as his torso grew in a horrible asymmetrical fashion, exploding forth with course hair and slimy, gelatinous skin. Even his face warped, with his mouth splitting wide open with jagged, yellowed teeth as his upper face burst apart with crimson, glaring eyes. Within seconds, he had morphed into a horrid abomination, something vaguely the shape of a gorilla but much larger and badly distorted by mutation. He had gone from a man to a drooling, wheezing and supermuscular monstrosity.
Trixie, upon seeing this THING, fainted. Sunflower vomited. Sweetie Belle had to avert her eyes.
“What- -I don’t understand!” she said. “Trixie’s blood made Vincent beautiful, so why did it do that to Humph?!”
“Because that wasn’t Trixie’s blood,” said Fluttershy, calmly. “It was mine.”
“Gah,” gurgled Humph, trying to speak though his oversized and crooked mouth as well as several that had formed along his neck and right arm. “Can’t- -can’t resist- -the urge!”
Vincent smiled. “So you feel it too? The endless bloodlust. The HUNGER.”
Humph screamed and stepped back, grasping his face with his disproportionatly long arms. “The URGE! K- -k- -”
“Killing.”
“KINDNESS!”
Vincent’s jaw dropped, and Humph pulled back his arms.
“W- -what?!”
“Overwhelming compassion! A love for all living things!” Humph scooped up the terrified baby basilisks in his arms and hugged them. “I- -I’ve never felt such an urge to be so polite and helpful to anypony in need! “
Vincent’s expression of confusion immediately turned to one of profound anger. He sighed. “And I thought I would have an ally. Oh well. I may not be able to kill you, so I’ll just banish you to the Void. Easy enough, right?”
He raised his hand and struck Humph with a spell. Humph simply absorbed it without taking any damage or harm. If anything, his body got more swollen and broke open with more bony plates and steely organic armor.
“Don’t just stand there!” called Sunflower. “Pummel him!”
Vincent turned around angrily and fired a bolt of green light at the centaur. It barely got two meters, though, before it struck Humph, who had interposed himself almost instantaneously between Vincent and Sunflower. Once again, he absorbed it and become bigger and more ugly.
“You ought to treat women with respect and caring,” he said. “But at the same time, acknowledge the fact that they are equally people and can be independent and strong as well.”
“So unicorn blood makes me a god and makes you spout platitudes? So be it.”
Vincent shot forward and struck Humph in the gut with a magically charged punch. The impact did absolutely nothing except cause him to sprout two globular, multi-jointed arms from his back.
“And you should treat others exactly as you would want them to treat you!” shouted Humph, returning an identical punch to Vincent’s body. His eyes bulged out, and Sweetie Belle heard a crack from within the man’s body. At the same time, she noticed that he was staring to change as well. Vincent seemed to have grown taller and thinner. Instead of being well-proportioned, he was now gaunt.
Vincent leaned back and then screamed, pushing a tremendous amount of magic forward. Humph dodged, and it punched an enormous hole through the top of the room at an oblique angle, vaporizing everything in its path until there was nothing but a charred channel to the warehouse above. Ivan and Liu leaned forward and looked down.
“I’m a superior being!” shrieked Vincent, striking again and again at Humph. Most of the blows missed, but the ones that did only made Humph stronger. Meanwhile, Vincent’s magic was beginning to weaken. He was now substantially taller than a human, and his skin had become tight and dry. His silky white hair had become coarse and straw-like, and it was beginning to recede. “I am BETTER! I’ve always been smarter, STRONGER! Everything else, everyone one else- -they’re all WEAK! Even YOU!”
“Prejudice is the result of focusing solely on your own strengths and the weaknesses of others,” said Humph, dodging a blast of flame. “And it’s a waste of potential! Instead, we should pool our strengths to overcome our mutual weaknesses and work together!”
“I will not have my world contaminated by INFERIORS! My work will create so much benefit, can’t you see?! I alone can solve every problem that we have ever faced!”
Humph planted his feet against the ground and lunched forward. “All problems can be solved by understanding- -” He struck Vincent’s magical corona, doing no damage to his physical form but degrading the shield that surrounded him. “Empathy!” - -another blow, and Vincent was knocked back. “And KINDNESS!” A third blow, and Vincent’s shield was mostly gone. Humph, now towering over the thin, aged man, spread his arms wide. “And remember.” He slammed his hands closed around Vincent, who barely managed to summon his remaining magic in time to produce an egg-shaped projection around himself.
“Huggies” - -Humph pushed his arms in farther, causing Vincent’s shield to begin to crack- -“make everything”- -he increased the pressure, and Vincent was now desperately trying to keep Humph from touching him. Then Humph took a deep breath and slammed his arms togather. “BETTER!”
The hug had such force that the shockwave knocked everyone in the room down and was so beautiful that it caused Ivan’s hat to cry.
When the smoke finally cleared, they saw Humph- -now completely clothesless- -standing in the center of the room in his human form. He was hugging, but it appeared that Vincent had managed to slip out at the last second. He stood a few yards away, breathing hard and shaking. He was no longer human. He was now at least eight feet tall, but his tattered, rapidly mouldering robes surrounded a skeletal frame. His hair had now almost completely fallen out, and skin was somehow wrinkled and tight at the same time, stretched across features that were barely recognizable as those of a human being.
“I- -I need more!” he gasped, lunging toward the case containing Trixie’s blood. Trixie, though, reached out with her magic and pulled the box toward her. “That’s mine!” she said.
“No, it isn’t!”
Vincent started toward Trixie, but several snakes, Fluttershy, and Sweetie Belle blocked his path. In his weakened state, he actually stopped and recoiled, his silver eyes looking around wildly. He seemed confused, even afraid, and he started clawing at the rapidly spreading poison marks on his shoulder and legs.
He turned to Humph, who was staring back at him. “It’s not…over,” he rasped. “It’s not over.”
There was a pop and he vanished as he aparated away.
Author's Note
Does a twist add to the plot, or does it just give the audience a purple-nurple?
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
“Here,” said Sweetie Belle, levitating the red crystal in her magic. Sunflower had confirmed that it was indeed an Origin Stone, but one of a quality that was beyond anything she had ever seen. It was not one of the crude modern ones, but one formed in timeless antiquity from an age where arcane knowledge and strength had been far stronger that it would eventually become.
Fluttershy took the crystal in her hoof and opened the puzzle cube she had been constructing. With a few quick motions, she affixed it into the transmission matrix. A stone that had allowed one man to command an army of the dead, to the point where he could project his own magic and voice through them- -it was the final piece.
“It’s done,” she said, looking up.
“And so am I,” said Humph. He stood up and wiped his forhead. The spell necessary to activate the portal required a blood sacrifice, and Humph had just finished arranging blood pudding into a pentagram on the floor of a dark stone room in the Brotherhood of the Brown Finger’s basement.
“Trixie?”
“Hold on,” grumbled Trixie, who was in charge of painting the various diabolical runes that were meant to surround the blood pentagram.
“Are you sure you want to go?” said Sunflower.
“We have to go home,” said Fluttershy. “It’s not that we want to leave, but…”
“I know,” she said. She knelt down, and the three ponies hugged her. ‘
“I hate to be crass,” said Eugene, who was standing beside Maggie and watching from a slightly longer distance, “but it’s probably for the better. You two are the last sources of unicorn blood in this universe. If you stay, there will always be a risk of the Dark Lord returning. Vincent is still out there, and he’ll be back eventually.”
“But what about my blood?” said Trixie. “You seem to be, well, keeping it.”
“Don’t worry,” said Maggie. “We’re using a straw-byer to trade it into the Ministry. They’ll destroy it so it can no longer be a threat to our world.”
“Yeah, and with the price hit from that, we’re barely going to break even after the amount of damage you did to our stocks. John and Lester are STILL packing those buckets back into each other.”
“Yes, but we’ll still get a profit selling all of his inferi,” noted Maggie. “They are VERY high quality. We’ve already had several requests from members of the Brotherhood.”
There was a sniffling sound from next to her, and Ivan suddenly burst into tears. “Ivan so sad to see tiny horses go!” He buried his head into Maggie’s shoulder, and she looked profoundly uncomfortable. Kiwi, who was sitting atop Ivan’s head, patted the man. “Dewe dewe Ibin, it otay! Dey goin home nao!”
“What is that smell?” said Maggie, clearly trying to hold her breath.
“Is potion,” said Ivan, holding out a bottle. “Want to the being having some?”
Trixie stood up, cracking her back and returning to Fluttershy. “I’m done,” she said. “I painted all your weird letters.
“Excellent,” said Fluttershy. She looked out at the group. “Thank you all so much,” she said. “But this is…well…going to get just a little dicey. And you’re going to see some things you’d rather not see. So please stand back.”
Fluttershy stepped into the blood pentagram and shifted the puzzle box, chaning the way the surfaces interacted with the various dark magical elements within and Sweetie Belle’s necklace. When she was done, she set it in the center- -and as she left the perimeter, it began to shift and change on its own.
Suddenly, it stopped, having solved itself, and rose into the air. The ground shook, and the ancient stone on either side suddenly lifted from the floor, pulling itself apart and reassembling itself into a large arch. The arch then seemed to fill, not with anything solid but with SOMETHING. Whatever the ethereal material was, it quickly became almost opaque and formed what looked curiously similar to a curtain.
“The veil,” whispered Sunflower. She turned to Humph. “Can…can you hear that?”
They listened. Maggie shivered, and Ivan looked pale.
“No,” said Humph. “I don’t hear anything.” He approached the gate. “Ooh, it sure is shiny though!”
He reached out and tried to touch it, but Sunflower slapped his hand out of the way. “What the heck, Humph? What are you trying to do?! That’s a gateway to the afterlife! Whatever goes in doesn’t come back out! And…well…” She paused. “I’d hate for you to…you know…get dead.”
“Aww,” said Humph. “I’d hate for you to get dead too!” He hugged her waist.
“Ahk! Too close! Public display of affection! Not here, you idiot!”
Humph released her. “I don’t know that boggarts have an afterlife, though. I think we just…keep going.”
“You’re sticking to that story, then?”
Humph nodded. “That’s what Gellert told me. And he always seemed to know what he was talking about.”
The group looked up at the portal for a few seconds longer.
“Is that it?” said Sweetie Belle. “Is that the way home?”
“Well…no,” said Fluttershy. “I don’t know how to open a portal home.”
“Then what’s that, then?”
“You’ll see, unfortunately. But I’m afraid the spell’s not complete. It still needs one more ingredient.”
“What?” said Eugene. “If we have it, I’ll get it for you. Consider it an apology for everything I put you though.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” sighed Fluttershy. “The final part of the spell requires participation from an uncorrupted mare.”
Trixie looked toward Sweetie Belle, but every other person in the room looked to Trixie. After a few moments, she seemed to realize that she was being stared at and sputtered. “M- -ME? Uncorrupted, no- -I’ve been corrupted! More than once!”
Fluttershy raised one eyebrow, not amused.
Trixie grumbled. “Hmmph, fine. But you SO owe me!”
“Stand here,” said Fluttershy, directing Trixie to a demarcated spot in the center of the pentagram, near the edge of the portal. Trixie took her place, eyeing the portal itself nervously.
“So…now what?”
“Boop,” said Fluttershy, shoving Trixie into the afterlife.
Trixie’s eyes widened and she cried out in terror, tying to claw her way out as her rear half was pulled into the ephemeral void.
“What- -why?!”
“I’m sorry, Trixie. It’s the only way for HER to come.”
“But I- -”
Several narrow, pale, long-fingered hands suddenly pushed through the shimmering surface, almost instantly beginning to corrode as they struck the air outside of their normal realm. They reached out and grasped Trixie, grabbing at her mane, body and legs. More and more hands came until Trixie finally lost her grip and was dragged screaming into the afterlife.
Everyone stared in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened or to accept that Fluttershy had just performed a pony sacrifice. Before they could even speak, though, the surface of the arch hardened into a mirror-like solid, and Fluttershy approached her reflection and began the final portion of the summoning spell.
She began in a low tone, speaking a language with such a bizarre cadence and consonant system that even Sweetie Belle doubted that she could replicate it.
“Phlaaghen, nherneglhenthag dor’alehkdada. Vos ielahra na’dlhaquefvlg. Ia! Shub-Niggarath vlark-dak-knaldkadakan!” Her tone then shifted to her normal voice. “Ia, Mater, iube haec perferri mare de virgine. Hue ades, aeterno perditoris Avelon genuit filiam eius matrem, dominam stupris obscuris creatori omnium principium et finis, perussi animarum.” She closed her eyes. “RISE.”
She opened her eyes, and so did her reflection. Sweetie Belle screamed. The eyes looking back at her were not Fluttershy’s blue ones. They were solid crimson.
Fluttershy’s reflection then stepped forward, even though she had taken a step back. It touched the edge of the mirror on its side, and the surface of the mirror began to distort as it pushed through. There was a sound like a the cracking sound that came from the bottom of frozen lakes in the deepest cold of winter, but it was not from the mirror. It seemed to come from nowhere at all, and everywhere at once.
The pony emerged, now fully materialized. She still somewhat resembled Fluttershy; her hair, though red and longer, maintained roughly the same shape Fluttershy’s. Her coat, though, was pure gold, and despite being an earth-pony, she stood as high and as thin as a Canterlot unicorn. In fact, she was profoundly beautiful- -save for her eyes. They were pure red. There was no sclera, no pupil, no iris. Just red.
The eyes swiveled and looked down at Fluttershy. Sweetie Belle did not know how she knew where the mare was looking, seeing as her eyes were homogenous scarlet globes. There was just a bizarre sense of where she was focusing her attention.
The mare smiled, and before her teeth reverted to a vision of perfect dentistry, Sweetie Belle thought she saw hundreds upon hundreds of jagged fangs.
“Flutterbutter!” she squealed, looking overjoyed. “You actually summoned me! How’s my little fatty doing?”
Fluttershy sighed, and then almost growled her greeting. “Hello, mother.”
“Mother?” said Humph, nearly on the verge of laughing. The mare, not being amused, shot him a glance that caused him to grab his chest. “HERK! My immortal soul!” He promptly fell over. Sunflower, who was standing beside him, just let him fall.
“Difficult to tell, I know,” said the mare. “Considering how she looks right now. I’d swear to myself that she inherited her father’s genes. Oh, by the way, fatty, your father says hello.”
Fluttershy’s expression softened slightly. “Dad? How’s he doing?”
“He’s as shiny and fresh as the day I gave birth to him. We’re going on a date later.” She inhaled sharply and smiled. “You should totally come with us! It would be a double date! As in, me dating you both.”
“Don’t be crude, mother.”
“Aww. Somebody’s butthurt!”
“I’m not butthurt.”
“You totally are.” She looked around the room. “Actually, come to think of it, where in the name of me am I? This doesn’t look like Equestria. Namely because Celestia’s not trying to vaporize me. Not that she could, though. I mean, you think you’re fat, you should see rump on that mare. But oh sweet me, I’d like to cover her in frosting and- -”
Fluttershy cleared her throat loudly.
“Killjoy,” sighed the mare. “I’m going to take a guess and say this is the Wizarding World. I mean, I can see that guy’s wand through his darn pocket.”
“Wait, what?” said Humph, sitting up.
“Not you.”
“Oh.”
“I do love this world, though,” said the mare. “They have enough magic to solve every single problem on their planet, and about two percent of the population hordes it all and uses it to murder each other in the name of blood purity. It’s hilarious!”
“How is that funny?” snapped Sunflower. “And who even are you?”
“Oh. Please allow me to introduce myself.” She bowed. “I’m a mare of wealth and fame. I’ve been around a long long time and stole many a man’s soul and faith!”
Ivan seemed visibly agitated, and suddenly stiffened into a salute. “H- -hail Satin!”
“Ah,” said the mare, smiling. “Somebody here knows me!”
“The only reason I called is because I need a ride home,” said Fluttershy in a huff.
“What? Go home? To boring old Equestria? Wouldn’t you rather conquer this world? Rain death and fire from above, subvert their governments and devour their souls?”
“Mother, I’ve gone over this with you and I don’t want to talk about it again. Not here in front of my friends.”
“Well, then, may the me take your soul. Oh wait, you don’t have one. Demon and all.”
“Demon?” said Sweetie Belle.
“Mother!”
“Oh, please. Someone has to say it when you have this butt-ugly form all the time.” She looked to Sweetie Belle. “Watch this.” She leaned forward and took Fluttershy in her hooves. Before Fluttershy could resist, the larger mare kissed her on the lips. What she released was not Fluttershy at all.
The shape was the same, but much thinner. Instead of a pleasant pastel, she was a pallid color. Her hair was crimson, and her wings ragged. What was most striking, though, were her pure red eyes. Identical to her mother’s. It was the exact form that Sweetie Belle had momentarally seen her take when Starlight’s spell had gone wrong and sent them to this world.
“MOTHER!” squealed Fluttershy, baring several rows of pointed teeth.
“But you look so ADORABLE as a demon!”
“Agreed,” said Humph. “I mean, you’re just so cute, you even make the CUTEST little monster…thing.”
“See? The weird heap of protoplasm agrees with me. What…are you anyway? It’s really freaking me out.”
“Boggart.”
“Ah. That explains it. I’d probably spill my oats if I, you know, actually had a stomach.”
“Speaking of stomach,” said Fluttershy, shaking herself and reverting to her normal form. “Trixie?”
“Trixie? What’s a Trixie?”
“Give her back.”
Fluttershy’s mother whined. “But you sacrificed her! She’s mine now!”
“Mother. Don’t make me have to use the Stare.”
The golden mare protested for a moment, and then acquiesced. “I should never have taught you that. Hold on, this is going to get messy.” She opened her mouth, and as the group watched in horror, she vomited out Trixie whole.
Trixie slid onto the floor, covered in slippery mucous. Her eyes were wide and she was curled into a ball, shivering. “Trixie…has seen things…”
“Oh please. Just be glad you’re not my type. Such an ugly color. I like them…” Her eyes flicked over to Sweetie Belle. “White.”
“She’s eleven, mother.”
“So? What’s your name, you adorable little filly?”
“Sweetie Belle,” said Sweetie Belle.
“What a cute name. You, I like. Not quite ripe yet, though. But hey, an offer: how about a scholarship to the University of Tartarus?”
Sweetie Belle’s eyes sparkled. “Scholarship? Higher learning?”
“Of course. We have an excellent music program.” She leaned forward. “And I can even give you some personal lessons,” she whispered.
“What kind of lessons?”
“Oh, trust me. I’ll show you things you didn’t even think were possible- -and a few things that, theoretically, aren’t!”
“MOTHER!”
“Fine, fine! Sheesh, I try to help a filly go to a good school and you yell at me! Element of Kindness my perfectly shaped interdimensional butt!”
“It is pretty perfectly shaped,” admitted Humph. Sunflower slapped him. Hard.
“So, yeah,” said the mare. “Well, let’s get this over with. Sure, I’ll take you back. Hold onto your respective socks.”
“But…I’m not wearing socks,” said Trixie.
“Then that means your naked.”
There was a distortion of red light, and a small implosion. Then, just as easily as they had come, they were gone.
Across the dimensional expanse, Starlight and Twilight were working together to create a Starswirlian construct. It closely resembled a small sphere of ticking, clock-like components, and both of them were sweating and breathing hard from concentration.
“Hold the left membrane!” shouted Twilight.
“I’m trying!” replied Starlight, “but we’re losing stability at a geometric- -”
The construct imploded, and sent both of them flying into the crowd of ponies who were watching.
“Holy me!” shouted Twilight, sitting up and rubbing her smoking horn. “That didn’t work at ALL! That was the Spike of spells!”
“Well then we try again,” said Starlight, standing up.
“Star, we’ve been planning spells and doing math for, like, almost a week now! It hasn’t worked yet!”
“Well maybe you need to swallow a soul gem!” snapped Starlight.
“I’ve already eaten seventeen! SEVENTEEN! And one of them was a Grand! I sound like a rock tumbler when I try to walk, I can’t fit any more!”
“Well you had better find room! Trixie is still out there, somewhere, and so is Fluttershy and Rarity’s sister, and it’s all my fault!”
“Hey guys!” said Rainbow Dash, flying in. “I totally have an awesome idea! See, check this out, all we have to do is- -”
At that point, a massive dark portal opened above the crowd. The sound of billions of tormented souls filled the air, and several ponies of weaker constitution fainted. Three ponies suddenly dropped out of the portal and onto the crowd, nearly crushing poor Lyra in the process. Everypony else stepped back.
“HA!” said Rainbow Dash. “Am I awesome or what? My plan totally worked!”
“Worst way to travel EVER,” said Trixie, standing and brushing off her hat and cape and making sure that her pair of wands were both intact. “A public bus would have been better. And I’m pretty sure your mother slapped my- -”
“TRIXIE!” Starlight shot across the ground and tackled her friend in a hug. “Trixie! You’ve come back!”
“Of course I’ve come back! Nothing can keep the Great and Powerful Trixie from her very best friend! All I needed to do was create a counterspell and- -” She looked to Sweetie Belle, who was glaring at her. “And…well…get some help. A lot of help.”
“Well I’m glad you did,” said Twilight, embracing Fluttershy. She addressed Sweetie Belle. “You need to get to Carosel Boutique. Quick. Rarity’s been crying so hard that I don’t think the drainage system can handle it for much longer.”
“Oh Twilight!” said Fluttershy, hugging her friend. “It was such a terrifying place, but you’ll never believe how brave I had to be!”
“Well, I’m sure you will be telling us all about it later. But first, you need to get back to your house. Like, right now.”
“Oh! My animals! They’re probably so hungry!”
“Well, no…we put Pinkie Pie in charge of feeding them, so- -”
“You WHAT?!”
“Well, I tried assigning Rainbow Dash, but they tried to cook her alive again, so- -”
“She can’t even manage her own diet! How is she supposed to feed animals?!”
“Why do you think I told you to get over there?”
“I will, I’m on my way right now, but first- -” She hugged Twilight again, and this time even Rainbow Dash bothered to come down and join in on the hugging action.
“Aww,” said Humph, wiping a tear from his eye. “This is such a touching ending!”
Every pony fell silent and looked at him. Then Fluttershy looked up at where her mother’s portal had already closed.
“Oh crap,” she said.
Author's Note
Remember, kids, Satin and Avalon are not actually blood relatives. Sort of. So it's okay.
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Eugene looked over his desk at Maggie, and then sighed. He looked up at her again, and once again sighed. He just had no idea where to start.
“Would you like me to deal with her?” offered Gisla from across the room.
“No,” he said. “Just…no.” He looked up at Maggie. “Do you have any idea just how bad you screwed up, Magmariane?”
“I- -I don’t think it was that bad,” she said, meekly shaking. “I mean, nobody died.”
“Nobody died? Nobody died?! You bet your shape-shifting rear that nobody died, because if they had, Gisla would be having you as a soup right now! Do you have any idea the losses we just took?”
“We encountered…” Maggie gulped. “Unanticipated resistance.”
“Unanticipated- -do you have any idea how much time off I’ve had to sign for?! We have fifteen cases of mandrake paralysis, at least twenty instances of spell damage- -half of us now have magical scabies, and you KNOW how hard that is to get rid of. At least one man was shot in the buttocks, Blorg won’t stop crying, and half of our crew went up against a Soviet wizard without any radiation shielding at all! Do you have any idea how much the insurance is going to cost?!”
“I filed that in my report- -”
“And who gave you authorization to use enchanted armor?! That was a shipment meant for export in two weeks, and now more than two thirds of it is COMPLETELY RUINED!” He leaned back. “Not that we’re even going to get it out now! Ninety percent of our workforce is down, just in time for the holiday season! Do you know how much overtime I’m going to have to give John and Lester?”
“But if we hadn’t had armor, the injuries- -”
“Not to mention,” said Eugene, leaning as a mandrake approached him and attempted to touch his face. “The search and rescue mission brought back MANDRAKES!”
“They’re not actually mandrakes,” said Maggie as Eugene pushed the man-like root away. “They’re partially hybridized. With lumpers, I think.”
“Great. So we can’t even use them. Just great.”
“Not to mention,” said Gisla, standing up and glaring at Maggie, “Zee obvious elephant in ze room.”
“What’s that?”
“We lost Liu. Not only did they take her down, but she’s gone. Somehow, someone captured her right out from under our noses!”
“That is not what I mean. The dragon animagus is of little consequence.”
“Little consequence- -do you have any idea how rare they are? Most of them can just turn into squirrels or dingoes or something! She was my chief heavy-hitter!”
“No. What I mean is, this leetle girl failed to retrieve the unicorn blood.”
Maggie hung her head in shame, then stiffened as she felt a griffon claw around her shoulders.
“And,” continued Gisla, “if she were one of my operatives in Prussia, do you know what would become of her? I’ll give you a hint.” She extended a long talon near Maggie’s carotid.
“W- -wait! Mr. Lancaster, you- -you can’t! Please!”
“And why shouldn’t we?” said Eugene. He put his elbows on his desk and then his head in his hands. “You almost had them- -do you have any idea what this cost us?”
“I can get them back,” said Maggie. “Please- -”
“Even though they somehow had the foresight to dispel your tracking charm? Yeah. You can, and you will. But this time Gisla will be leading the operation. I can actually trust her.”
Gisla lowered her claw. “Unicorn hunting was formerly a hobby of mine. Until the extinction. It will be done.”
“It had better,” said Eugene. “Because I already found a potential buyer. I was going to bring him in today to pick up the blood, but now I’m going to have to reschedule the appoint- -”
The internal alarms in the warehouse suddenly went off, indicating that there was a breach of perimeter. Eugene looked up, confused, and then stood. As he did, the air around them seemed to darken, and the darkness instantly congealed. There was no sound of a normal apiration, but instead a dark-clad figure emerged from the shadow.
He walked to the desk, and Maggie wet herself. He was not only taller than her, dressed in an immense black robe fastened with a blood-red brooch, but she saw his face- -or rather, failed to see it. Beneath his hood where his face should have been was a silver, skeletal mask. The dark wizard in the woods had been one thing, but Maggie had been able to dismiss him as something innocuous. A genius hermit, perhaps, or a retired auror. With this man, though, there was no doubt. He was clearly a Death Eater.
Even Eugene looked nervous, but hid it well. He stood up. “Mr. Rott,” he said, holding out his hand. “Pleased to finally see you in person.”
Rott said nothing. He just stood there, and Maggie was amazed by the sudden silence that filled the office. It was the kind of distorting, oppressing silence only caused by thick fog. The only sound that she could hear was the heavy breathing of the Death Eater standing beside her.
Then he spoke. His voice was ragged, like what Maggie would expect from a dementor if they could talk.
“My…blood. Where is it?”
Eugene steeled himself. Without taking his eyes off the hooded figure, he spoke to Maggie. “Magmariane? You’re free to go now. Prep yourself for the next op. Gisla will be briefing you in three hours.”
“Y- -yes, sir.” As she turned, a black-gloved arm shot out and grabbed her shoulder. She squeaked in terror and saw her boss reaching for his wand.
“You,” said the Death Eater. “What…did you see here?”
“N- -nothing!” said Maggie.
“She is one of my best intelligence officers,” said Eugene. “I was even considering her for a promotion until about an hour ago. Trust me, as a member of our organization, discretion is a key element of her personality.”
The Death Eater continued to hold on, as if considering. Then he released Maggie, and she ran away, trying to disguise the fact that she was crying.
Rott turned back to Eugene. Gisla had begun to circle him from behind before joining Eugene’s side. Though not a wizard, she was far stronger than any human and was prepared to fight if she was needed.
“My…blood,” repeated Rott.
“There’s been a technical difficulty in the supply chain,” said Eugene. “I don’t have it. Not now. But I will.”
Once again, Rott paused. He still stood nearly still, but with the combination of his mask and his lack of motion, it was impossible to read him. Eugene was sweating.
“I need that blood,” he said. “WE need that blood.”
“I know, I know- -”
“Is this…an attempt to…increase the price?”
“No. We’re actually considering a discount if- -”
“Do not toy with me, half-blood,” snapped the Death Eater. “You have…no idea of the significance of that blood, what the…ritual would accomplish.”
“Nor do I care to know. Remember the confidentiality agreement. I don’t ask, and you don’t tell. It’s better that way if the Ministry comes for either of us.”
“The Ministry is weak. They are of no consequence.”
“Easy for you to say, but I can’t just take off a mask and go home. This company is my bread and butter. And our reputation is important to us. We don’t have the blood now, but we know where the unicorns are. We’ll get it for you. You have my word.”
“Mine as well,” said Gisla. “And though you humans are true and pure liars, ze word of a Griffon is worth far more.”
Rott did not reply, but continued his heavy breathing. “Three days,” he said at last. “Four miles.”
“Excuse me?”
“Three days,” he repeated. “Four miles. Bring me my blood in three days or I….kill every living thing within four miles…” he raised his gloved hand and pointed, “of you.”
“You can’t be serious,” said Gisla. “That would be impossible!”
“It is not. We assure you.”
“But we’re in the middle of a muggle city, you can’t- -”
“You vastly misinterpret…the nature of death,” said Rott. He stepped back and began to dissolve into shadows. “Three days, four miles. Our New Dark Lord will repay you kindly if you succeed and…bring devastation if you fail.”
He vanished, and the dark fog slowly faded. Eugene put his hands on his desk and nearly collapsed.
“Death Eaters,” said Gisla. “You fool. You intend to do business with their kind?”
“Well excuse me,” said Eugene angrily, “but didn’t your father make his fortune selling magical weapons to the Nazis?”
“Death Eaters and Nazis are entirely different zings.”
“Uh, no, they aren’t. They’re basically the SAME thing.”
“Nein. Nazis, zey are predictable. Easy to understand. Death Eaters? Not so. You have no idea what zis ‘Rott’ is planning, what he could do with ze unicorn blood once he has it.”
“And it’s not my job to know. Or to care.”
“Let me rephrase. It is not possible to know what he will do to us once he gets it.”
“Pay us. I have confirmed that he is in possession of several hundred million galleons. If this works, we’ll make twenty times what we have in the last five years in one hit.”
“And if we don’t?”
“That’s why I’m putting my faith in you, Gisla. It was a mistake to send Mag. She’s not experienced enough. You are.”
“I did give him my word. Even if he is not worth it. But I give ze same promise to you. I shall retrieve ze unicorns. Of this, you can be sure.”
“I hope so,” said Eugene. “For all our sakes.”
Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses
Chapter 11: Every Wizard has a Summer Home
Sunflower reached into the bag and pulled something far larger than should have reasonably fit into it out of its opening. As she roughly dumped the contents onto the floor, Sweetie Belle gasped. It was not actually an object, but a girl, bound and gagged.
“It- -it’s HER!” she cried, stepping back as she recognized the dragon-girl from before.
“You know her?” said Sunflower, re-synching the bag and returning it to her coat. “To get out, I stole one of their clothing. I found her injured and decided I would confiscate her.”
“And you fit her in that little thing?” said Trixie.
“The bag? Oh. It’s bigger on the inside. They’re commercially available.”
“I got stuck in an outhouse like that once,” said Humph. “A blue one. After the curry festival. Oh boy, its owner was NOT happy.”
The girl writhed and shouted into her gag, pulling herself slowly across the white tile floor of a large but completely empty room.
“But what if she tries to become a dragon again?” said Fluttershy. “What if she tries to eat us?”
“I injected her with a magic-limiting potion,” said Sunflower. “So she won’t be able to do magic for some time. That, and I snapped her wand.” Sunflower held up the several small pieces. “Repeatedly.”
“Wow,” said Humph. “You really are a Slytherin.”
“You bet your sweet butt.”
Sunflower, still in her human form, knelt down and sat the girl up. It was immediately apparent that one of the girl’s eyes had been permanently forced to look in a separate direction than the other.
“Her eye,” said Sweetie Belle.
“That? Yeah. Someone hit her with a derping spell. I’m guessing that was you?”
“Actually, it was the Great and Powerful Trixie,” said the Great and Powerful Trixie.
“Oh. Well, most of the stuff with her brain is cleared, but not all of it. I’m afraid part of the brain damage is permanent.”
With that, she removed the girl’s gag, which was actually just a piece of duct tape. Sweetie Belle winced from the sound it made, but a torrent of Scottish swearing immediately followed it.
“Hold on,” said Humph, “I know how to talk to them!” He squatted down, and the girl stopped yelling but not glaring at him- -or as close to at him as she could glare. Humph just stood there for a moment, and then raised his hand in a gesture of greeting. “Hoots, man!” he said, slowly.
This was followed by what Sweetie Belle assumed was the worst possible language in the Scottish language. It eventually resolved into something marginally understandable. “You dirty Anglo git, how dare you talk to me like that- -we do NOT say that it’s not even a normal phrase I’ll have you know that I’m a member of the Changs and one of us almost graduated from Hogwarts not that it matters if I get out of this I’ll eat you and allllll of your horses- -”
“She says she wants haggis,” said Humph, translating.
“Why did you attack us?” said Sunflower. “Who are you? Who do you work for?”
The girl immediately went silent.
“Not going to talk, then?” said Sunflower.
“You’re not going to get a thing out of me. I ain’t talking.”
“Fine, then,” said Sunflower, sounding annoyed. “We do this the hard way.” She looked around the room. It was mostly empty and completely unfurnished- -like the rest of the house- -save for a lone halogen lamp apparently left behind by the painters. Sunflower crossed the room and picked it up, removing the heavy metal pole from the center.
“Dinklehugen, is this floor sealed?”
“Of course it is.”
“Good. Because it’s about to get really messy.”
She carried the pole back to the girl and pointed it at her. “I’m going to hit you with this, and you’re going to be in a lot of pain until you tell me who you are. You’ve got that?”
“Do your worst.”
Sunflower raised the pole.
“Wait!” said Trixie.
Sunflower paused. “If you don’t like it, don’t watch.”
“Don’t be stupid. That will leave marks.” She drew her wand. “There are much better ways to do this.”
Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened. “Trixie, you can’t- -”
“Oh, I can. And I will.” She leveled the wand at the girl, and for the first time the girl’s eyes flickered with a glint of fear. “I would never be able to perform the spell on my own, but with this wand…” She smiled. “This will teach you to try to eat the Great and Powerful Trixie! I’m so going to enjoy this.”
“I- -I won’t talk!” said the girl. “You can torture me until I go insane I won’t- -”
“RICKTUSEMPRA!”
The girl jolted as if she had been shocked, and then began to writhe as the spell took effect. She fell on her side, shaking violently, trying to resist its effect- -and then burst out laughing when she could no longer hold back.
“Stop- -the tickling- -the TICKLING!” she gasped.
“Tell Trixie what she wants to know, and Trixie will stop.”
“Never!”
Trixie flicked her wand again. Another silver beam hit the girl and she roared with laughter and released a girlish squeal. “Tell Trixie what she wants to know, and the tickling will stop.”
“No, I can’t- -” She squealed again, trying to get her arms free to block the magical tickling. “I can’t- -OKAY! OKAY! Just stop the tickling! Just STOP!”
Trixie lowered her wand, and the girl was left on the ground breathing heavily. “Now remember,” said Trixie. “If I even think you’re lying to me, you get the tickling again. You’ve got that?”
“Fine,” said the girl, sitting up. “But if anyone asks, you used the crutaciatus curse on me and I lasted for two hours. If anybody found out that I got tickled into submission…”
“That doesn’t sound like an answer.” Trixie raised her wand again.
“Wait! My name is Liu Chang. I work for the British Import and Export company.”
“Wait- -imports?”
“And exports, yes.”
Trixie looked to Humph, and Humph shrugged.
“Smugglers,” said Sunflower. “You’re smugglers.”
“We’re legitimate businessmen! Who happen to deal in stolen/illegal/apocalyptically dangerous artifacts.”
“But then why were you after us?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Isn’t it obvious? For the unicorn blood, of course.”
“B…b…blood?” said Fluttershy, who promptly fainted.
“Yeah, that’s about right for an English reaction to the mention of the word ‘blood’,” said Liu.
Sweetie Belle looked distressed. “Why- -why would you want our blood?”
“It is a very powerful magical substance,” said Sunflower. “Powerful to the point of foolishness. Even I’m not daring enough to try to use any of that- -it’s the only centaur tradition that I actually still follow.”
“What does it…do?”
“It lets you ignore your own death,” said Humph, darkly.
“What it does doesn’t matter,” said Liu. She looked at Sweetie Belle, who was only a few years younger than herself. “I mean, how much blood do you have, a pint? You could be made of solid gold and be worth a hundredth of the amount of blood in you.”
“But I need my blood! It’s what makes me so adorable!”
“She’s not getting any blood,” said Trixie, trying to comfort the younger unicorn. “We won. They’ll never find us here.”
“Don’t be so sure,” said Liu. “When it comes to money, we’re persistent. I will get free. And we will take your blood. Every. Last. DROP.”
Sweetie Belle started crying, disturbed by even the thought of someone being after her blood. She had no idea that it was magical, or that they would be willing to capture her and bleed her just for the sake of money. It was extremely deponyizing.
“It’s going to be okay,” said Trixie.
“No it isn’t! My- -our blood! They want our blood!”
“That’s not that bad,” said Humph, picking up the piece of tape that had been covering Liu’s mouth. He replaced it where it had been. “She could have been after your horns or something.”
“Those are also a valuable alchemical reagent,” said Sunflower. “They’ll probably take those too.” This did not comfort Sweetie Belle at all, and she cried harder. Even Trixie was starting to look shaken. “I mean- -”
“Just stop,” said Trixie. “You’re not making us feel any better.”
“Sorry.”
It took several hours for Trixie and Sweetie Belle to calm down. Humph put them in one of the upstairs rooms, the only one that actually had a bed. They had both fallen asleep very quickly. Fluttershy, meanwhile, had redoubled her efforts on her portal device now that she was completely aware that the wizarding world was entirely hostile to her and her friends.
Humph opened the door and checked on the two unicorns. They were both asleep, and though adorable, it was clear that Sweetie Belle was still having bad dreams. Humph sighed and closed the door.
“So,” said Sunflower, who had suddenly appeared behind him and was still maintaining her unfamiliar human form. Humph nearly jumped out of his skin, which, as a wizard, was entirely possible for him to do. “Are they going to be okay?”
“Not if their blood gets ganked, no,” said Humph. “They’d be dry little husks!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare them. It’s just…I’m not good with people. Even pony people.”
“It’s okay. I think. They’ll get over it. But we need to get them back home as soon as possible. I mean…their blood. Their goshdarn blood. Why would somebody even try to do that? They’re sentient creatures!”
“You mean the species that drove our unicorns to extinction? Yeah. This is completely unexpected.”
Humph just sighed, and started walking down the hall.
“And what are we going to do with the girl?” said Sunflower.
“What do you think? We’re going to let her go as soon as the ponies are safe.”
“Let her go- -do you know what she is?”
“A smuggler. She won’t have any reason to bother us once her goal is gone. And we can just go home, and continue this like it never happened.”
“Do you really think that will work?”
“No,” said Humph. “But I like to hope.” He stopped at a window and looked out at the sea and the fields that surrounded his empty, nearly unfurnished secondary home. Sunflower approached him from the side and also looked out the window.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For capturing the Scot?”
“No, no, that actually made things worse. I mean for helping us get out of there.”
“You owe me,” said Sunflower. “You owe me BIG.”
“Yeah,” sighed Humph. “I guess I do.”
They stared out the window for several minutes longer, and then Sunflower seemed to shift. She turned toward Humph and took a deep breath. “So. You think I’m attractive?”
“Yes. Of course,” said Humph. “I assumed that was obvious.”
“Well…my human form will last for about one more hour. So we can…if you want to…”
“What?”
“Snog?”
Humph blinked. He did not actually know what that meant, but he had a few guesses. “What?”
“I don’t mind. If you want to. But if you do, you’re going to have to hurry. I know you like this body. The source used to be a model before she expired. By your human standards, I’m extremely attractive right now.”
“Eh…not really.”
Sunflower glared. “What?”
“It’s just that, well, you look so much better as a centaur. The pointy ears, the big yellow eyes, the dark skin, the punk-rocker haircut. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. That’s just the you I expect to see.”
“I have a horse attached to my body,” said Sunflower, slowly.
“And that’s not a bad thing. It’s just a part of you.”
“Are you saying you’re attracted to horses? What are you, some kind of pervert?”
“Well, come on, it’s not like you’re an actual horse! I mean, all that brown fur. And do you remember that one winter when you didn’t shave your legs and you got those little fetlock ploofs? That was frigging adorable.”
Sunflower blushed heavily. “You- -you thought my fetlock tufts were cute?”
“And it’s not even that. It’s not what you look like that matters. It’s that every time I need help, you’re always there for me. Sure, you yell at me and sometimes hit me, but any time I have a problem you don’t even question it. When I’m panicked and don’t know what to do, you always do. And you…well, you actually tolerate me.”
“So…what?”
“So? Well, nothing. Unless you want to go to Knockturn Alley sometime. With me. They have a few killer bars. Sometimes literally. Without the polyjuice.”
“You’d actually want to spend time with a centaur?”
“I already spent time with a centaur. I am right now, even if you don’t look like it.” Humph paused. “But we can still snog. After you change out of that weird-looking blonde form. And maybe I can even ride in your saddle?”
Sunflower slapped him, hard. She then turned and stomped off. Before she turned the corner, though, she called out.
“We’ll see.”
