Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student

Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student
Something Wicked

Hogwarts had less homework, and a smaller chance of dying if he failed a test. Theodore Nott still considered Equestria a superior place to learn. There was considerable incentive to get everything exactly right, and enough time to relax between study sessions in a very pleasant environment.

“More shaved ice, Leaf?” Theodore propped his feet up on a second cushion, enjoying a little afternoon sunshine in a delightful small cafe of sorts that sold ice, and only ice, in a bewildering array of flavors. It made a far more comfortable place to review his growing collection of notes than the crystal castle, and with fewer interruptions by star-struck servants who wanted to bask in his presence.

“I’m good.” New Leaf nosed a cushion over next to him and settled in to observe his note-review, placing a half-full crystal glass of some green drink to his side. There was still a sense of unresolved tension in the muscles beneath the unicorn’s coat with the occasional tremor making little waves of teal and glittering silver down his flanks. It made him more comfortable when Theodore put a hand on his shoulder or around his neck and gave him the occasional good-natured tease.

“You don’t want that cute mare to walk by again?” said Theodore while rubbing Leaf’s tense neck. “They’re giving us refills for free, after all.”

“Nothing’s free,” he mumbled. “They just want us around to protect them in case one of Sombra’s traps goes off.”

There were small drink stands in London who made sure they gave free coffee to aurors, so the semi-bribery concept was not foreign to Theodore, but he had never experienced it from the other side. The dark temptation of corruption was undeniable, but he was determined not to yield in the slightest, so he had tucked a short stack of crystal bits into a pocket on his robe. On their way out, he was going to give them to the proprietor regardless of his protests and make haste to get away before he wound up getting another free drink or twelve.

“You have to relax occasionally,” said Theodore. “If you get all tied up in studying and never stop, you miss enormous things. Like the way your city streets wobble,” he added, pointing down the crystal street and waving his finger back and forth as he tracked the eves of various buildings.

“Crystal focuses sunlight. Long flat surfaces make unexpected hot spots as you walk.”

Rather than respond, Theodore took a long drink from his shaved ice and chewed thoughtfully. Some muggle buildings in large cities had the same issue, but the Crystal Empire buildings were more reflective, and there was the possibility of multiple reflections. That raised the potential of a destructive cascade, and if the entire city were arranged in just the right order…

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” New Leaf had a discouraging squint with both of his ears tucked back, an expression which only grew more dour as Theodore explained his idea in probably far too great detail.

“No,” said Leaf. “Sombra believed in the power of darkness to overcome light. And suppose it could be done. How would you ensure this giant light weapon would only be used properly?”

That was a question that really did not have an answer, or at least a good one. It was worth a bit of travel through the city afterward so the flavored ice had a chance to digest and a few idle thoughts about how little work it would take to adjust the city into a weapon. It was not until they were ready to return to the castle that he noticed something odd.

“The sun is reflecting off the buildings in a pattern,” he mused. “That leaves shadows where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“Like there,” said New Leaf. “Oh, no.”

Theodore was off like a shot, charging into the alley with his wand extended and a quick blitz of dueling spells. The shadow twisted around as it fled, nearly invisible against the other shadows in the alley. It almost worked. The creature hissed as it flew, darting between cover while Theodore tried to get in a good shot.

“It’s like the shadows in the laboratory where Peaks’ crew vanished,” he snapped. “Don’t let it touch you.”

“Really?” New Leaf let off a barrage of unicorn magic that cut off the shadow’s retreat, then ducked as the shadow spat something at him. “Do something!”

“It’s shrugging off most of my attacks! Incarcerous!” Swirling ropes condensed out of the shadows and wrapped around the creature…then passed right through it, much like most of Theodore’s spells had so far.

“Protego!” The rapid splat of darkness was barely deflected upwards as Theodore tripped into the muddy alley dirt. The shadowy creature snarled in rage and turned on them both, but bounced off New Leaf’s unicorn shield as he interposed his body between them.

Regular wizard magic was failing, and the shadow creature was gaining more confidence. It was a foolish action worthy of a Gryfindor to go chasing a hostile monster into an alley, a failure of his Slytheren past that was likely to get him killed. There was little Theodore could do except bet on a long shot.

“Nemisul!”

He had studied the Equestrian spell and made some adjustments to it, but actually casting it was different than anything Theodore had ever tried before, forcing his magic into unfamiliar territory, and yet somehow familiar at the same time. Dark threads engulfed the creature in a burst, coiling and twisting like a tornado as it grew in power until it ignited into a blaze of white light that illuminated the dark alley like a lightning strike.

Leaving an empty alley containing nothing but a panting wizard and a panicked unicorn.

“It’s hiding,” blurted out New Leaf with his horn lit to a blinding hue and looking around the alley in a fit of terror.

“It’s gone,” said Theodore. He cast several more detection spells, then a light to illuminate every inch of the alley in bright green. “Totally gone. I can still sense its trail, like the slime a slug leaves behind, but it just… stops. What was that?”

“An umbrum.” New Leaf backed up and flickered his gaze in all green-lit corners of the alley, but at least the magic around his horn began to dim. “They’re terrible monsters from a dimensional fissure. Celestia sealed it permanently, but some of them were trapped here.”

“Obviously.” Theodore cast a few more detection spells around the alley before putting his wand away.

“You were stupid to chase it,” added New Leaf. He turned off his magic with a snap.

“True.” Theodore began walking back in the direction of the crystal castle, only to have New Leaf bite down on the edge of his robe and give it a sharp tug.

“So. That spell. It works, obviously.” The uncomfortable unicorn turned away from Theodore, then back to look up at him.

“You want me to teach it to you? I barely managed it this time. Panic is an excellent motivator, I suppose.”

New Leaf nodded. “Not today, though.”

“Yeah, that’s enough excitement for now.” Theodore patted New Leaf’s sweat-soaked shoulder. “Lunch?”

“Lunch is good,” said New Leaf. “Back in the castle.”

“Back in the castle,” confirmed Theodore.

Maybe they had some sort of Equestrian Firewiskey there.

Sweetie was getting used to drinking pumpkin juice. It was sweeter than she expected, and had certain similarities to when Pumpkin Spice would emerge from her house to terrorize… or bless Ponyville with a yearly tribute to the stuff. Even Pinkie Pie tended to hide in the bakery during Spice Week, as it had come to be known, and more than one tourist stopping by the small town wound up in the hospital emergency room with a mixture of shock and pumpkin overdosing.

Much of the rest of the food at Hogwarts had some interesting parallels to Equestrian cuisine, but not in volume. Rarity had taken Sweetie to one of the most prestigious restaurants in Manehattan once for a seven-course meal, and then they had hit a corndog pushcart for real food afterward so they would not starve to death.

Hogwarts fed the students. Tables groaned with pastries, pies, and cakes, racks of meaty ribs and slices of roast, chicken in every form the fowl could take from egg creams to barbeque, and mysterious sausages that were different every time she tried one.

Sparrow was a bold adventurer in the field of gastronomic excess, and had taken on a nearly formal competition with George Chuffnell about how many of the dishes they could sample together. Wycliffe was the near-opposite, and only ventured away from the category of ‘boiled’ when tempted. That left Sweetie as the middle ground of the table, experimenting with the new foods as prompted and passing on anything that seemed too meaty or odd to Wycliffe, who ate whatever he was given.

“Are you sneaking food back to the dormitories again,” chided Wycliffe to George Chuffnell, who was putting something in his pocket. “If you’re hungry in the middle of the night, you can just ask the house elves for a snack.”

“Really?” Sparrow bounced on her bench, which was quite an achievement considering the bench was made out of solid oak.

“Well, you don’t ask them. That’s against the rules here. Probably,” hedged Wycliffe.

“You’re hiding something,” said Sweetie. “You’ve got that look.”

“Well… My brother said you can make arrangements with the Hufflepuffs and lower down a basket from the Gryfindor common room, out the window over by the globe. They have access to the kitchens. It’s probably easier to just take advantage of house elf tendencies.”

“Using begging eyes?” asked Sweetie. “That works at home.”

“No. You look around your room and say things like, ‘I know I brought a honey-cake back from the Great Hall. I put it down, and now I can’t find it.’ Then you’ll find it.”

“It’s magic?” asked Sweetie.

“It’s cheating,” said Sparrow.

“It’s how you deal with house elves,” said Wycliffe. “Provided it doesn’t go against the rules they have been given. Every magical creature has its own behavior, and you need to know what it is before you deal with them.”

“Good to know somebody’s listening to their teachers.” Dean Thomas dropped onto the bench next to Wycliffe, lifted his pointed hat, and ruffled his hair. “Even if it is the smallest and most tasty of the Gryffindors this year.”

Sweetie liked Dean Thomas. He was tall and handsome for a human, with a hair-thin white scar tracing down the ebon darkness of his cheek that really made him stand out. In addition, he was the Head Boy for Gryffindor this year, having returned to finish up the year of school he missed last year when Voldemort was causing so much death and destruction.

There had been several other Gryffindor students who had trickled in over the last week, looking a bit skittish at the concept of returning to a place where so much had happened to themselves, but Dean had been right there when they came through the door, clapping them on the shoulder or giving the occasional hug. Katie Belle, the other Head Girl for Gryffindor, was in a similar ‘returning’ situation with one significant difference: Quidditch. She had stated quite loudly that she was done with the sport, done forever, and she was going to get through this year — again — if it killed her for real. Again.

It really warranted a question, but Sweetie did not want to ask just yet.

“Anyway,” continued Dean as he put Wycliffe’s hat back on and snugged it tight. “You lot have got Hagrid in your ‘sampler’ Care of Magical Creatures class before noon. I just wanted to let you know, he’s been… a little enthusiastic about giving us exposure to creatures, even under normal circumstances.”

“It’s worse now?” asked Kim Byng, who despite being the only other female Gryffindor in their year, had been fairly quiet around Sweetie Belle to the point where she just blended into the background noise at times.

“Well…” Dean hesitated, then admitted in one long burst of words, “He wanted to bring one of the acromantulas from the Dark Forest in for the Seventh Years to groom. Said it would ‘teach them up’ on how to handle some of the more misunderstood creatures. Turns out they travel in swarms, and there was no way he would wind up with just one of them, so he brought fire crabs for them instead. That should have been acceptable since Fifth Years learn how to tend to them, but he brought giant fire crabs instead, and… Well, the hospital wing has quite a few burn cases now.”

Sweetie perked up. “The potions book had a recipe for burn cream. We could—”

“Your cauldron is still locked in one of the unused classrooms,” said Dean. “Professor Slughorn is working on a potion to turn it back, but he keeps getting bitten. Anyway, Hagrid has been talking about how he has a new creature for your ‘sample’ class this morning, something that’s cute and adorable and shouldn’t harm a fly.” Dean shuddered. “When you come back from class, the hospital wing is second door on the right in the main corridor.”

Sweetie bounced on her bench. “And we can visit and cheer them up!”

“Through our bandages,” muttered Wycliffe.

* * *

“I don’t think a direct approach is going to work,” mused Theodore. He ran one hand over the city map that they had put together, touching the various sigils and glyphs that marked locations of Sombra’s hidden installations along with new marks for shadow sightings. “Several of these seem tied together, and from the pattern, I’m fairly certain we’ve missed some here, and here while we were shadow hunting last week,” he added, touching the map on unmarked places. “Breaking those links will weaken or strengthen the rest, so we don’t want to start cracking them until we know where they all are.”

“Agreed,” huffed Granite Peaks. “I was too impatient, and pushed my crew too hard.”

Theodore took a moment to look at the portrait he had painted of the mixed unicorn and griffon crew. “At least we know they’re alive.”

Since there was not even a hint of movement among the individuals, none of their life essence had escaped from the dark crystal trap, which he preferred to think of as a good thing instead of the possibility that the trap completely consumed the souls of its victims. If he had been working from a wizard photograph, the parallel would not have worked since photos captured a reflected image of a particular time instead of a bit of unused soul. Wizarding photographs could wave and move about for centuries, regardless of the corporal status of their subjects. The Equestrian cursebreakers were alive. He had to believe that, or he would be so rattled it would be difficult to move forward.

“For now,” said New Leaf, “I think we should destroy what shadows we find and avoid any activity in that immediate area until we have a better idea about what happened to your crew.”

“To keep it from happening to us,” said Theodore.

“To keep from hurting them more,” said Leaf. “The previous crew documented traps that are designed to cripple their target, then kill whoever goes to rescue them. If the trap draws on the power of its captives, we could kill them ourselves by simply prodding at the exposed parts of the spell.”

Granite Peaks gave off a roughly positive grunt. “Traps are useless if your bait dies. Seal off the corridors we find using your monkey spell, investigate the other portions of the city you think might have more of his workings, and leave my crew in limbo until we have answers. I hate this plan, but it’s all we have.”

The older unicorn pushed himself away from the table with a grunt. “I’ve been too close to this ever since they got captured, so I’m going to get some outside perspective. There are artifacts at the Ponyville School of Friendship that were involved in some dark magic ritual which nearly destroyed magic across the whole country. Maybe they’ll shed some light on this, or one of the other leads that Twilight Sparkle sent me will pan out. Might even be able to catch Starswirl and ask his advice, if I can make sense of it. I want you to remain here, seal off all of the locations we’ve found, and carefully poke around the rest of the city to see what I’ve missed.”

“What if we find something?” asked New Leaf in a very small voice.

“Deal with it, one way or another.” Granite Peaks put a set of his notes to one side and scratched lines on a new map of the countryside. “Don’t limit yourself to the city once you have all the sites sealed. The mines should be safe as anything, but check anyway. There are a few other sites that deserve some poking, too. You never know what you’ll find if you look where nobody has checked before. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Until then, use your initiative and try not to destroy the city.”

It irked Theodore, but not enough for him to say anything about it until he was standing on the balcony of his room, watching the distant southbound train pull out of the station.

“I wonder if Granite Peaks is a relative of Headmaster Dumbledore,” he mused. “Dumping this on us, with no support, is just hanging a millstone around our necks and throwing us in the lake.”

“Princess Cadence said to ask if we needed any help,” said Leaf, who was standing beside him with his front hooves on the balcony railing.

“The only cursebreakers I know of are back at home,” considered Theodore. “There’s the older Weasley boy… No, the Wizengamot fought too hard against sending me here, so they’d never let anybody else in, even if he would talk to me. What untapped resources do we have in Equestria that Princess Pretty Pony can convert to our cause?”

“Granite Peaks’ team had about every experienced cursebreaker and thaumaturgic trap specialist he was able to dredge up,” admitted Leaf. “Since they’re gone, nocreature else is going to step up. Well, if we sent them a bunch of bits, the griffons would find some more volunteers, but I don’t think they’d be very effective. The Diamond Dogs we had fled for home within a day, and Peaks would never agree to have any Minotaurs help.”

“Why?” pressed Theodore immediately.

“I… don’t know,” admitted Leaf. “He was set against the idea when I first arrived and won’t even talk about it.”

It was worth some thought, although without context, it was very little thought indeed. He got up instead, and headed for the suite door. “Let’s go see what Princess Cadence and Prince Amor have to say on the subject. Maybe they can write a few letters for us, find some eccentric minds that Granite passed over. Besides, I’ve always wanted to meet a minotaur.”

“You need to be more careful about what you wish for,” cautioned New Leaf. “The first thing a minotaur will do upon meeting you is to compare how much you can lift. The second will be an attempt at wrestling.” The unicorn gave the wizard a long look up and down, much as if he were estimating how far Theodore would fly when thrown and frowning slightly when Theodore chuckled instead.

“I should introduce one to Hagrid,” he said.

* * *

Care of Magical Creatures seemed to be a bit peculiar to Sweetie’s position as exchange student, much as if Equestria had some sort of Care of Wizards and Witches class with unicorn teachers. Sweetie was trying her best to feel comfortable in her human form, which was a little difficult when the whole class tromped out into the nearby forest, feeling small beneath the towering walls and immense trees. The sound of birdsong and the wind in the leaves far above made her homesick, and a little hyper-focused on looking for strange and dangerous creatures. Like the teacher.

She had seen Hagrid before, and she had kinda-sorta found herself thinking of him as Fluttershy’s bear friend. But he was a professor, and in charge of a very important class for humans. There were a lot of magical creatures in this world, most of which avoided non-magical humans, but wizards had to control the creatures who did not, and protect the creatures who would be wiped out without their assistance. Wycliffe had told her about golden snidgets, and how they had first been cruelly used in a wizard game called quidditch. His home was on the edge of a magical wildlife sanctuary where the skittish birds and several other creatures also made their homes. Greedy wizards and ignorant humans were both quite hazardous to their safety, and there were dozens of small and large natural preserves set aside across all of their country. Some were official, others created by wealthy individuals, and a few made by loose associations of loners and outcasts who generally preferred to keep to themselves, and saw no problem in keeping endangered creatures safe in the process.

Hagrid certainly did not look like an endangered creature. His furry coat was a human kind of coat that came off when he was in the bright sunshine, like this morning. He still had the wizard tendency to odd clothes to cover his bulk, but Sweetie was at a loss to think of any clever combination of dress to make him look more normal, or display his extraordinary height and width in a flattering fashion. He probably could braid his beard, but it looked so tangled and twisted that she had to recall their one time trying to braid Pinkie Pie’s mane.

That had ended poorly. And pink.

The immense professor towered over even the Seventh Year students, but Wycliffe told her that he was part giant, which gave Sweetie a little bit of a hornache when she tried to think about how big a regular giant was, and exactly what the process of bearing offspring would have involved.

“Aright, all ye gotta make a bit of a circle here in the grass an’ be quiet. I gots quite a bit of a treat for you, something I’ll bet non of you’ve seen before. Yes, Mister Nott?”

Wycliffe’s hand had shot up almost immediately as they sat down in the fresh grass, and the small human cleared his throat respectfully. “Professor Hagrid, this creature you’re going to show us. It isn’t dangerous, is it?”

“Oh, we ain’t lost a student in my class ever,” scoffed Hagrid through his beard. “Even yer brother only got bit a bit last year. A week in the hospital wing and he was good as ever.”

“Well…yes…but we are First year students,” said Wycliffe with frequent glances into the nearby dark forest

“Young and tender,” volunteered Sparrow. “What, do you think we’re going to be wrastlin’ alligators?”

“Them’s for the Third Years,” said Hagrid. “An’ they ain’t exactly alligators, since they got six legs and a spiked tail. Now I don’t want you to get all excited over creatures you’re not going to be trusted with until years from now.”

“Whee,” murmured Wycliffe beneath his breath before Jill Wyvern’s hand went up like a shot.

“They’re not spiders, are they?”

“No,” said Hagrid, sounding terribly disappointed. “Maybe later. Yes, Miss Lily?”

Sparrow put down her hand, held up a pamphlet, and asked, “Is it one of these forest creatures from the Ministry’s list?”

That got the professor’s attention. “As a matter of fact, yes. They’re actually critters a lot like the ones in your home. If you’all will remain seated and quiet, I’ll go get them. Remember, no sudden moves or loud noises. They’re quite timid. Rolf, keep an eye on them until I get back.”

With that, Hagrid stood up and walked into the nearby trees, vanishing in seconds other than the rustling and crashing of his passage.

“I’m quite excited at this,” said a sandy-haired Seventh Year boy who had accompanied them to the outdoor class. “Hagrid and I went through a lot of work to get their trust, particularly after what happened last year.”

“You mean with… Voldemort?” asked Sweetie quietly. “I thought he only harmed peoples.”

The slender Seventh Year boy shook his head slowly and spoke with great reluctance, as if he did not talk much. “He destroyed several species which had survived for centuries under wizard protection. Dark wizards have always destroyed or exploited creatures for their own goals. Ever since Grindelwald drove the quilin into extinction, Dark wizards have no problems killing the few and precious, particularly if they can gain some advantage with their deaths. Voldemort disturbed a great number of creatures from their ecological niches, and my grandfather has been trying his best to help them find safety again.”

“Are you going to go help him when you graduate?” asked Lady Rose, a First Year Hufflepuff who had the most magnificent curly blonde mane and a slim face with high cheekbones that made other girls scowl whenever an oblivious boy would walk past them in her direction.

“I have to get high enough N.E.W.T. scores for the Ministry to permit it.” His pale face gained a few worry wrinkles as he glanced up into the forest. “This counts as extra credit. Hagrid was very secretive about what he has prepared, so I can’t tell you.”

“And Headmaster McGonnagal wanted somebody responsible to keep an eye on him,” said Agitha firmly. “That’s obvious.”

Sweetie really wanted to defend Hagrid, but she was fully aware of being ‘kept an eye on’ in far too many ways back in Ponyville. It had always been with good intentions, even if the Cutie Mark Crusaders did not do that much damage. After they got their cutie marks, of course. It did make her appreciate the big professor even more, and she had to wonder if he had a special talent of speaking with animals since this was his job.

Thoughts of inviting Fluttershy to the castle during winter break were interrupted by the rustling of leaves in the forest, and a peculiar sense of mirroring as unicorns began to step out of the concealing shadows. Lots of unicorns.

They were graceful creatures, even if they did not look exactly like Equestrian unicorns. As they continued to emerge individually or in pairs, she could tell they were tall and short, long-legged and relatively stubby, with windswept manes of all lengths, but each and every one of them were terribly nervous, like Sweetie whenever she got out on stage. Several of the unicorns only advanced a few steps into the clearing, and the most adventurous of the bunch barely got her tail into the sunlight. At first, Sweetie thought they were all white, and whispered to Wycliffe, “They look a little like that time my friends all did laundry and mistook the bleach for detergent.”

“Look closer,” whispered Wycliffe back. “They have subtle color gradients when they’re younger, but equalize out when they get older like the herd stallion there.”

The white stallion was far larger than Prince Blueblood, but not nearly as tall as Celestia. He had the same arrogant attitude as Blueblood, and looked down his long nose at all of the First Year students with equal disdain. Well, except for Sparrow, who was holding several carrot sticks in one hand.

“Snuck them out of breakfast,” she whispered to Sweetie. “I thought I might need a snack— Hey! Those are for the unicorns.”

Sweetie gave her a long look. Sparrow corrected herself. “Our unicorns.”

“We want to show them the carrot sticks are not tainted,” said Wycliffe, who picked out a stick for himself and started crunching.

“Well. It doesn’t give them many, but…” Sparrow bit down on a carrot stick of her own, then held the remainder out to the nearby stallion, who leaned ever so slightly forward but still out of reach.

“I guess they’re like cats,” she said, taking a step forward only to have the unicorn stallion step backwards just as far, as well as all of the other unicorns. Several other steps and motions got her no closer. “A little too much like cats, I think.”

“Wait. I’ve got an idea,” said Sweetie, taking off her shoes and putting down her bookbag.

Agatha Volant raised one perfect thin eyebrow. “I’m not certain how witches behave in your horse world, but we do not take our clothes off in the woods here. We’re civilized.”

“I wasn’t going to go naked,” said Sweetie, only to immediately backtrack. “Not in a people way. I want to show them they’ve got nothing to fear from us. Watch.”

There was a familiar swirl of magic and Sweetie was back on normal hooves. It did not seem to relax the human world unicorns one bit, though. The tall stallion gave out a very Blueblood-like shriek, whirled in place with the forest mossy floor scattering in all directions under his frantic hooves, then he bolted into the woods with the rest of the unicorn herd following close behind. In less time than it took Sweetie to blink the bits of mossy dirt out of her eyes, the clearing was empty of unicorns. Well, except her.

“What in tarnation happened!” said Hagrid as he stomped out of the wood. “Just had ‘em calmed down fairly much and they went kiting off into the— Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Professor Hagrid,” said Sweetie, who was still trying to blink some moss out of her eyelashes before she could change back. “It was my fault. I changed, and they must have gotten surprised.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize, young lady. Or filly,” said Hagrid, who looked remarkably distracted, like Rainbow Dash with two plates to snitch toast from. “Uh, you would’nt mind stayin’ like that for a bit, would’ja? On account of the unicorns most probably are miles away by now, and I ain’t really got nothing else to teach. I mean until next year when you get this class for real. Then we’ve got some real fun creatures to work wit.”

“Hagrid,” cautioned the slim Seventh Year student.

“And nothin’ with stingers or poison bites until after mid-year like Headmistress McGonagall said,” continued Hagrid, looking a bit discouraged. “Don’t really understand it. Unicorns are’nt exactly safe either, with that horn and the way the whole herd will turn on you if they’re threatened.”

“Or if you bring too few sugarcubes,” said Wycliffe.

“Exactly! Take a point for Slythern, then. I mean Gryffindor,” he added quickly, shaking his head. “You look too much like your brother at that age. Couple of differen’ peas inna pod. Yes, if you you take sugarcubes into a herd, you better have enough for all of ‘em, an a few extra, just in case.”

The big professor dug around in his heavy clothes and produced a small lump of sugar, which he held out to Sweetie. Briefly.

“Thank you,” said Sweetie while chewing.

“Ain’t used to unicorns who can talk back,” admitted Hagrid with growing enthusiasm. “Powerful magic creatures, they are, and more intelligent than you would think. That’s why they’re so hard to catch. Bunch of unscrupulous wizards are more than happy to hurt them for their own profit. I understand young Mister Nott knows all about that, since he grew up on the edge of a wildlife sanctuary that has unicorns in it.”

“Yes, Professor Hagrid. Although I understand my father never permitted anyone from Hogwarts to visit, and I suspect that same restriction will remain even after he…”

“Dies,” said Sparrow after a far too long moment, which she spent by putting one reassuring hand on Wycliffe’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We got you.”

Hagrid’s large head lowered, and he knelt to bring himself somewhat vaguely down to Wycliffe’s height. “We all lost friends to… I still can’t say his name.”

“Voldemort,” said Wycliffe firmly. “I wish he had stayed dead.”

“He’s dead now, and ain’t coming back.” Hagrid patted Wycliffe on the shoulder, which was probably less reassuring than he wanted because the small boy practically bounced under the impact. “Wizards ain’t much for forgiveness. Dumbledore was. He trusted me back in Hogwarts as Keeper of the Keys and Groundskeeper when all the governors of the school threw a fit. Trusted Lupin and most of the Defense Against Dark Arts professors ‘cept Umbridge, and the less said about her the better. Takes a big man to trust someone who’s gone against you before. Even trusted Snape, and—” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Harry said I shouldn’t speak poorly about him. Let’s get back to something more interesting. Miss Belle, can you show me your hoof, please.”

It was a lot little embarrassing to be used as a classroom example, even outdoors, but the lesson was fascinating as it went on. Sweetie learned a bunch about human unicorns, their lives in the Dark Forest, and how similar they were to her. The colours even meant different things for their herds, which of them held what roles, and that the herd stallion was an elected position, of sorts, which Hagrid did not want to tell much about.

The lesson even gave Sweetie a hint of why she was having trouble keeping her shoes on when changing forms, because one of the Ravenclaw students said she already had shoes, and the changing of forms had to put the shoes somewhere.

The theory sounded sensible, but there was no practical way to test it at the moment since Sweetie was not about to pull out the nails to take her silver shoes off. Maybe at the end of the year when she returned home. The silver-iron shoes with various intricate enchantments were tricky to fit, and she always enjoyed a day or two barehoofed in the summer while Shoeshine made adjustments to her measurements for a new set of shoes. But only for a short time, because bare hooves were softer than solid floors, and tended to crack over time.

They were just getting ready to end the class and head into the castle for lunch when the slender Seventh Year student looked off into the forest and said, “Hagrid, there’s something headed this way. It sounds like a lot of them.”

“A lot of what?” asked Sweetie as she tried to get her left trainer laced. Nobody was paying her any attention, though. A low rumbling shook the ground under her rear, much like George Chuffnell’s stomach right before lunch only louder. Still, she did not want to jump to her human feet and look because the other First Years had taller people between her and whatever was making the noise.

Then a crash of hooves sounded all around them, and centaurs appeared out of the forest with spears and nocked bows. They were huge and terrifying to Sweetie, because all she could think of for a moment was Tirek and his terrifying attack on Ponyville, but they were different in a way too. The thoughts raced through her mind in the moment between one breath and the inevitable scream, which all came to a crashing stop when Sparrow proclaimed “Cool!” at the top of her lungs.

It gave her a moment to think, and since Wycliffe had suddenly grabbed onto one of her hands, her thinking process was not working well at all, but it was a school, so Sweetie thought as much as she was able. At a second glance, these centaurs were far closer to humans than the sole terrifying example Sweetie had seen in Equestria. They did not have horns, or Tirek’s hefty build, and they all could use a good manecut with a few hours in a spa. Some wore clothing, shirts or vests mostly, and not of very good quality, but they all seemed to know Hagrid, and not in a nice way.

“Where is it?” thundered the largest of the centaurs, pointing a spear at Hagrid, even though Sweetie could notice he kept at a respectful distance.

“Where’s what?” shouted Hagrid right back, stepping up directly to the spear’s point.

“Where is the unicorn you have stolen?”

“I ain’t stole no unicorn, Ronan! Ask ‘em,” he added, sweeping one huge hand in the direction of the unicorns hiding behind the ring of centaurs.

“Ahhh, Professor?” said Wycliffe cautiously. “I believe they mean Sweetie Belle.” Wycliffe seemed to notice that he was holding her hand and dropped it like Sweetie had become white-hot, although he stayed right by her side like Sparrow.

“Oh,” said Hagrid gruffly. “Yeah. About that. It’s a bit complicated, Ronan.”

“Show ‘em, Sweetie.” Sparrow held her elbow and helped Sweetie untie her shoes. “It’s really cool.”

At first, Sweetie could not change with so many accusatory eyes staring at her, but after a deep breath and some appreciation for her friends, she let the magic sweep over her again until she could look up at the big centaur from a different point of view.

“See!” declared Sparrow. “So cool.”

Ronan looked perplexed, like he was still angry but did not know who to yell at, much like Trixe did at times. “This is some sort of trick!” he thundered, pointing his spear at Sweetie and raising it…

…before freezing in place.

Every unicorn was pointed at the big centaur, gathered around him in a practical circle of sharp horns, some of which were glowing dimly in the bright sunlight. Even Hagrid had a pinkish umbrella jabbed nearly into Ronan’s bare chest, and a fierce scowl that matched his rough voice.

“Yer not going to threaten my student, are you? There’s all kinds of bad things that’d come of that, and I don’t think the Headmistress would appreciate the Ministry getting involved.”

Ronan backed up a step, careful not to point his spear at Sweetie again. “It’s still a trick,” he rumbled.

“Ain’t no trick here other than her makin’ such a fuss at the Ministry when she arrived,” responded Hagrid while putting his umbrella back under his clothes despite it being larger than where it was being stored. “Professor McGonnagal said you never saw that bunch in such a tizzy, although they didn’t threaten her. Ain’t never had no students from Equestria before, an’ you go scaring her outa a year’s growth.”

“Equestria,” said Ronan like it was some sort of profanity. “Impossible.”

“That word don’t mean much around here.” Hagrid gestured to Sweetie, and she moved up beside him with no small amount of nervousness. “Brought a changeling along with her by accident. Might just make him a history teacher. Had a centaur as a Divination teacher a year or two back, if’n you remember that. Ministry threw a fit over that, too. Worse than when Dumbledore hired me.”

By this point, Ronan looked very much like a pony who had gone out on thin ice, and heard a very unwelcome noise. “I mean it is quite impossible for a unicorn from Equestria to cross the Great Barrier. No unicorn in our history has achieved that impossible feat, save The Bearded One.”

“Three,” said Sweetie. “Well, if you count Princess Celestia and Princess Luna as unicorns.”

“Four,” said Sparrow. “Clover the Clever was on that tapestry, so she must have visited with Starswirl back when the school was built.”

“The Great Barrier has remained unbroken since that time,” insisted Ronan.

“Oh, and Philomena,” said Sweetie. “She’s a phoenix.”

“And my brother is in Equestria, assisting with their conflict against a particularly dark wizard named Sombra,” said Wycliffe quietly. “He’s dead, but still causing them problems. Like Voldemort here.”

“Unproven,” scoffed Ronan, although the rest of the centaurs were exchanging doubtful looks between them, and the unicorns were milling about quietly.

Sparrow pointed at Sweetie. “You need more proof? She has a journal so she can write home. Maybe we can talk one of the princesses into a school visit.”

“You can?” said Hagrid with considerable interest. “That’d be… Well, we should clear it with Headmistress McGonagall first. D’ya think they could bring any creatures with ‘em? Professor Blatt mentioned something about a maulwurf. Sounded pretty interesting, an’ the Seventh Years need something nobody’s seen before to shake them up.”

There was a bump from behind, and Sweetie felt a familiar nuzzle as one of the unicorns barely brushed her nose against her flanks. As if it had been a trigger for several other reluctant unicorns around her, she was quickly inundated with curious noses bumping into her and sniffing. Generally, Sweetie Belle had little experience with such intimate contact. Well, not completely, but nothing she was going to admit to her human friends.

“Stop it,” she said with a giggle. “Mister Ronan, can you get them to stop— No, get out of my saddlebag.”

“They’re after the Necco wafers I gave you at breakfast,” said George Chuffnell. He dug a tube of the candies out of his own robe pocket and started peeling off the little sugar disks, then gave it up as the unicorns began to cluster around him too. He broke the tube of wafers in half and gave some to Sparrow, who began to portion them out to various nosy noses also.

Sweetie lit her horn up and floated the tube of candy up above their reach, trying her best to perform the delicate task of removing the discs one at a time instead of wholesale. It was difficult, because she was clumsy with the unicorn spell after practicing human magic for the last few weeks. “Mister Ronan, can you help me with this?”

She would have gotten Hagrid to assist, except he was handing out little lumps of sugar already, and Ronan did not have anything in his hands but the spear. The centaur took the paper roll of candy discs she floated over reluctantly, and had a look of perplexion that Miss Cheerilee always used to wear on days when class was not going the way she expected. He removed one of the discs, examined it closely, then placed it in his mouth with a scowl.

“They do not seem like poison, but they taste like chalk,” he muttered.

“Crunch ‘em,” said Sweetie, who was fending off a rather enthusiastic unicorn colt about her age and feeling just a bit overwhelmed. Eventually, she just threw the last little colorful candy discs out into the crowd and announced, “And that’s it. Done. Ma’am, please don’t do that,” she added to an older unicorn mare, who had decided that Sweetie’s poofed-up mane needed a good dose of mom-spit to flatten it out. Thankfully, the colt stayed out in the herd, but Sweetie was stuck trying to avoid being groomed for a few minutes while the crowd thinned out or at least until George Chuffnel spoke up.

“As much fun as this is—here you go—we’re going to miss lunch, Professor Hagrid.”

“Aye, can’t miss that,” rumbled Hagrid. “Ronan, you satisfied that our student belongs here, and not out in the forest?”

The puckered expression on Ronan’s face did not change, but the big centaur nodded with one long look at where Sweetie was fending off the mother unicorn and her attempt at grooming. “Yes,” he grumbled.

“You know, if’n you had just asked Firenze,” continued Hagrid, “I’m sure he could’a told you that Sweetie’s visit was written in the stars or sumptin like that. Of course, that’d mean you’d have to apologize for kickin’ him out of your herd.”

“Urk! Excuse me,” managed Sweetie between the mother unicorn’s licks. “Starlight Glimmer said apologizing gets easier with practice, and she’s practiced a lot since she became a teacher at Twilight’s school. Some of the students said Firenze was the best Divination teacher they had, and I’d love to meet him.”

Without saying another word, the big centaur turned and moved into the forest, with the rest of his herd following reluctantly, and the unicorns right behind. Likewise after a few more words, Hagrid gathered the students together and herded them in the direction of the castle and a lunch delayed.

None of them noticed the young centaur at the edge of the forest, watching them leave while holding onto a half-nibbled candy disc in one hand.