Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student

Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student
Ex Owl Post Facto

“It ain’t safe down here.” Trudging through the crystal mines should have made Gneiss look fierce while protecting his two insane trapbreakers, if he had not been twitching at every unexpected noise during the entire expedition. And with three ponies and one wizard walking on rock-strewn crystal floors, there was far too much noise and jumping for any of their nerves.

“Granite told us to look through the caves,” insisted Theodore, who had not felt so uncomfortable underground since the Carrows had taken a few select students down into the basilisk cavern for a look at the skeleton of Slytherans’ monster. A brief look. At a distance.

A rock fell somewhere far outside of the dim ring of light cast by firefly lanterns and Theodore Nott’s wand. The noise made Shale almost jump out of his armor, bump into his fellow guard, and stand panting in place while looking in all directions at once. “He didn’t say to drag us through them,” growled the terrified guard through clenched teeth.

“You’re supposed to be protecting us in case of any monster attacks,” said Theodore quietly, keeping his ears on the Supersensory Charm he had cast when they had entered the mine. “Shining Armor said you two were the bravest guards in the whole castle. The rest of the guards will see you as an example, and it should stiffen a few spines protecting Their Highnesses. Right?”

Gness gave out a low huff of frustrated breath. “I’m all in favor of leaving and sealing these caverns up, like you did at the Breach.”

“Except,” prompted New Leaf.

After a moment, Gneiss reluctantly continued, “Except there may still be some citizens hiding down here.”

“Maybe,” said Theodore, still keeping his wand at hand. “Have you noticed anything unusual since we came down here?”

“No,” said Shale almost as if he were preparing to bolt for the surface and leave them all behind. “It’s just like the mine was during Sombra’s reign. I spent enough time hiding down here already, and when he dragged the whole empire into shadow…”

Three crystal ponies all shuddering at the same time made a peculiar noise, which felt oddly comfortable to Theodore. He raised his lit wand, lowered it, and swept it across in a wide arc before asking, “What do you not see that you would if I did this outside?”

“Shadows.” New Leaf abruptly began looking around like somebody’s Niffler had gotten loose in Gringotts. “There’s no shadows.”

“Because the crystals are all reflective,” continued Theodore. “Any light bounces around to the point where the shadows vanish. Even a small light will do.”

Gneiss got a better jaw-grip on his lantern and muttered, “Unless the light goes out. I never did understand why so many ponies fled to the mines since Sombra’s helmeted minions controlled the miners but…” He remained silent for a time while they walked. “These shadows you’ve been finding and banishing in the city. You think they’re another kind of Sombra’s minions?”

“Allies,” said Leaf. “Hiding in the shadows where his soldiers dared not go. If anypony tried to hide from him in the city, they walked right into them.”

Theodore nodded. “Except in the mines. Which is why we are here. Mostly.”

“We’ve been walking for hours,” said Leaf, who had not stopped his constant glances in all directions. “Can’t we go back to the surface now?”

“After one more thing.” Theodore raised his wand and announced, “Nox Maxima!”

As night fell, Headmistress McGonagall was just beginning to get the tiniest hope that this year at Hogwarts might actually run through the whole year without a major disaster or worse. Of course, it had only been a few weeks since the memorable Sorting, but when you start with exceedingly low expectations and nothing catches on fire…

Well, except Potions class. If only one of the First Year classes could be conducted through to the end before an explosion, fire, or unexpected transformation, it would be a great relief to Madame Pomfrey also. The experienced healer had begun to sit outside the Potions class in a plain wooden chair with a bag at her side, ready for any inadvertent poisoning, allergic reaction, or detonation that was sure to occur. She even wore the old tin pot helmet her grandmother had been issued in the Great War, chin strap cinched down and the red cross symbol freshly repainted by the three students most likely to be at the center of her weekly efforts.

How Sweetie Belle had managed to flood the entire corridor outside of the Potions classroom with vanilla pudding was still a mystery to all, students and faculty. Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey could swim.

McGonagall had just placed her pointed hat onto the bedstand for a good nightly brushing when she became aware of an addition to the portrait of her great-aunt at the side of the bed. An ebon alicorn with a mane of swirling stars was tucked under Auntie Alis’s elbow, trying her best to evade the old woman’s fingers and look serious despite the beginnings of some intent mane braiding.

“Is something wrong?” asked McGonagall. “Are the students in danger?”

The painted alicorn looked… pensive, at best, but she shook her head as best she could while Auntie Alis braided. The Tantabus licked her lips, placed one hoof on the bridge of her nose, then made some motions outside of the picture frame that resulted in a far smaller dark alicorn popping out of the painting in a rush. The little alicorn bounced off the table, fluttering ineffectually until she landed on the bedroom rug with a thud.

That immobility only lasted a moment before four tiny hooves propelled the Equestrian… whatever she was in the direction of Minerva’s bedroom door and through. It was fairly obvious that the Headmistress was supposed to follow, particularly due to the fact that the portrait now displayed an image of the Owlery, and several people who most certainly did not belong there.

* * *

Professor Sinistra had not even begun to get ready for bed by the time Minerva swept into her quarters in the Astronomy Tower, which was good because otherwise she would have been dragged onward to the Owlery in her unmentionables. The little alicorn who had been guiding her path did not like the detour, and danced like she really needed to use the litter box until both professors were scurrying up the long staircase, wands in hand while in pursuit of a long-vanished tail.

“Ah, Athena and Aurora,” came a smooth voice from the owl-scented darkness once they reached the top of the stairwell. “Be at peace. I mean you no harm. I am a friend, and come seeking a… favor, at the behest of an old friend.”

“Friends don’t break into Hogwarts in the middle of the night,” snapped Minerva with her wand leveled, just like Professor Sinistra at her side. “Show yourself, or else.”

“Of course, Headmistress. Just hear me out before doing anything rash.” The darkness of the Owlery receded slowly, revealing four small students, three familiar, and one not. Well, one Nott and three girls.

“Good evening, Headmistress McGonagall,” said the girl in the middle with a short curtsey. “I am Hennessy Donnachaidh, by adoption. This is my grandfather, Vlad.”

The girl was remarkably unremarkable, with dark brown hair cut short above the shoulders and very dark eyes, even darker than Zenobia Worplesdon. Minerva had her pegged for a Ravenclaw at first glance with the way she handled herself and the stuffed book-bag sitting on the Owlery floor at her side.

The grandfather was a vampire, and just as easily identifiable as such despite the tiny dark alicorn curling up around his feet like an affectionate cat.

“Ladies,” he said with a long, graceful bow to the two professors. “My apologies for the lateness of the hour and the interference with your students, but I come on a matter of great urgency.”

“He wants Hennessy to attend Hogwarts,” chirped Sweetie Belle, instantly shifting from her relaxed and tranquil stare to the normal level of energy that Minerva had learned to dread. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“As long as she doesn’t suck anybody’s blood,” added Sparrow, who shifted emotional states just as quickly.

Vlad seemed as taken back by the sudden change in their behavior as Minerva, and he looked back and forth between students and professor without any words for a moment, although Wycliffe continued his absent stare into nothing. The vampire even looked down at the tiny alicorn playing with the laces on his shoes in search of an explanation which was not immediately forthcoming.

“Were we still supposed to be looking all vacant?” asked Sweetie. “I mean when Wycliffe left the common room he was all vague and stumbling like my sister when she’s sleepwalking into the kitchen for a snack.”

“And I said,” declared Sparrow triumphantly, “that he looked like a vampire had charmed him. And I was right! So we followed him up here.”

“And pretended to be zombies too,” said Sweetie.

By the look on the vampire’s face, he was feeling much like McGonagall at the moment, so she put the misbehaving students to the back of her mind and turned back to Vlad. “We cannot accept a vampire as a student.”

“Understandable.” The tall vampire stood without changing his confident stance a bit as he continued, “Therefore, I see no problem here at all. Tell me, Professor. How would you define a vampire?”

“Ooo!” said Sparrow, waving her hand. “I know! I know!” At McGonagall’s brief nod, the slender First Year rapidly continued, “They’re undead creatures of the negative material plane, so a hit from them can drain two levels, or a bite too, and if you’re drained below first level, you become a vampire spawn under his control. They can turn into a wolf or a big bunch of bats, and they have double the normal amount of treasure for their level. Oh, and they can dominate characters unless they make a will roll. Like Wy failed, obviously.”

By the time Sparrow had finished, Vlad was pinching the bridge of his nose and looking down at the Owlery floor, whether to keep from laughing or crying, it was difficult to tell. “Professor,” he managed after a few breaths, “Is the Defense Against the Dark Arts position still available? Because Hogwarts desperately needs a competent instructor in that regard.”

“These are First Year students,” said McGonagall with a bit of restrained ire. “Vampires are a third year subject, and besides that, the school term has just barely begun. Why did you not bring your… prospective student to my attention earlier?”

It was a bit of a shock for McGonagall to realize she had slipped from a firm ‘No’ in regard to Miss Donnachaidh into a certain consideration of the impossible. Then again, she had a unicorn from another dimension as a student already, and a Death Eater’s son in Gryffindor.

“If Headmaster Dumbledore was still here, most certainly. As it is, I was forced to rely on the most inconsistent sources of information.” Vlad removed a sheaf of newspapers from his prim black suit jacket and leafed through some of the pages until he found the article he was looking for. It featured an extraordinary photograph of Wycliffe’s memorable Sorting, complete with Argus Filch clinging to a ceiling beam in the Great Hall. “The Daily Prophet has been a reliable source in that regard, mostly from what it does not say. There is no mention of Wycliffe Nott here other than in a list of students uncategorized as to their House, for example. And then there is this.”

The tall vampire removed a photograph from inside of his suit coat and released it in McGonagall’s direction, where it floated slowly until it reached her fingertips. The photo was familiar, even though there had not been enough time in the day to get a copy from Dennis Creevey, so she had put off the task until it had blurred into the background. Holding it in her hand and looking at all of the happy Gryffindors waving back made something deep in her heart give out a little twinge of pain, good pain that came with memories of her own Hogwarts class. Witches and wizards long gone except for the imprint they left on the world, one of which was her own job as Headmistress. And then the Order of the Phoenix, which had burned until only a few coals remained.

“If the school can find a place for the son of a Death Eater—” the vampire turned the page to a different article “—if the Ministry of all places can send a Death Eater’s son as emissary to a foreign wizarding country, then perhaps it is time for my Poppy to return to the world where she belongs.”

“I see,” said McGonagall even though she did not. Thankfully, Professor Sinistra asked the question in her stead.

“The world where she belongs?” The dark face of the Astronomy professor creased into an unaccustomed frown. “You mean another dimension, such as Equestria?”

It was the vampire’s turn to be perplexed. “Equestria?”

A short explanation later from the Headmistress and the vampire was even more confused than before. “I had always considered the stories of Starswirl to be legends from the origins of Hogwarts,” he mused. “I may be old, but not that old. And you say this creature is a splinter of the goddess from that world?”

“Goddesses I surmise would be considered mostly inaccurate by them,” said McGonagall. “Still, I would not underestimate the alicorns, or that creature… You know, we still do not have a name for her.”

“The Seventh Years call her Woona,” said a very quiet voice from the staircase behind McGonagall. “She seems to enjoy it. Good evening, Headmistress. Professor.” Luna Lovegood emerged out into the moonlight from her stance in the doorway, wand held absolutely still and pointing at the vampire during every step. “Terribly sorry to interrupt, but Woona left the dormitory in a great hurry, and now she’s tied your visitor’s shoelaces together.”

Two witches, four students of various admittance standards, and one vampire all looked down at once.

“Your Equestrian… witches left a guardian for your school,” said Vlad as his shoelaces untied themselves and returned to their original knots. “She does not seem very impressive.”

That seemed to strike a note of ire in the little alicorn, and she stared up at the vampire with a low growl as the wind began to pick up. At first, McGonagall thought that was the extent of the tiny fragment of Nightmare Moon, but clouds outside of the Owlery began to boil in the sky, and the moonlight spilling in through the wide open windows intensified to a blinding degree.

“Moonlight is merely reflected sunlight,” said Luna calmly. “Perhaps you should move out of the way.”

“Enough!” commanded the vampire. He looked down at the small dark alicorn and added in a much gentler tone of voice, “Please?”

The brilliant moonlight cut off immediately and the clouds outside of the Owlery started a slow return to normal, leaving the vampire to kneel down and take a much closer look at ‘Woona.’

“Size is not an indication of power, as my Hennessy will prove,” he said after a moment. He scratched behind Woona’s ears as she seemed to want, then stood back up. “Appearances can be deceiving. When Tom Riddle first began his ill-advised venture several decades ago, he used his power to… influence several of my less-trustworthy peers.”

“I thought vampires were all kinds of powerful,” said Sparrow. “They’ve got like two pages in the manual.”

“In some regards, yes. In most regards, most certainly no.” Vlad reached out with a thin and pale hand, rested it on the young girl’s shoulder, and smiled when Hennessy patted it gently. “Riddle forced many creatures to do his will, some more willingly than others. Henny’s parents were slain by one of the more loathsome of the lot, and he expected me to finish the distasteful job. Instead, I swept her away, hid her from the conflict, and attempted my best to restore her from both of their corrupted grasps. Unfortunately, I was unable to break her curse until they both died for good this time. There are a few remnants of the curse remaining, but nothing serious, and I expect her to grow into whatever remains as she continues her education with her own kind.”

“Remnants,” said McGonagall flatly, although she lowered her wand slightly. “Be specific.”

“Nothing serious, as I said. An aversion to blood of any kind, thankfully. Perhaps a flair for the dramatic. An attitude, which is understandable. Her age has begun to progress again, which is a blessing if you have ever lived with a young ward for several decades. Other than those few things, she is as much a witch ready for an education as she was the day before she was cursed.”

He reached inside his dinner jacket again and produced several documents, which floated on their own over to the headmistress. “She can not be enrolled under her birth name, quite obviously. The Ministry would throw a fit, and the Daily Prophet would be overjoyed to smear both the school and herself.”

“Hennessy Donne,” read McGonagall by the light of her wand. “From Romania, of course. Why not enroll her in Durmstrang?”

“You mean, why Hogwarts?” said Vlad smoothly. “Once again, I must pass the blame onto the departed. To be brief, Headmaster Dumbledore made me promise. I swear, it sounded like he intended on holding your post until he was older than myself.”

“One thing upon which we can agree,” murmured McGonagall under her breath as she leafed through the documents. “Her books and things?”

“Already passed to the house elves,” said Vlad. “They’ve alerted Madame Pomfrey so my ward can stay this evening in the hospital ward for observation, as I’m certain you would require. The paper—” he tapped his copy of the Daily Prophet “—says that several new students who were unable to arrive in time for the first day of class will be Sorted tomorrow, correct?”

“Correct.” McGonagall put the papers back in order and gave the vampire a long look. She wanted to ask how she was to contact Vlad in case of whatever, but there was a pale brownish bat the size of a terrier hanging upside-down from the bottom of a nearby owl’s cage, which made the question moot. “Miss Lovegood, please take our new prospective student to the hospital wing for observation this evening. And Mister Nott, who looks like he could use a bracing tonic or two.”

She turned slightly to look at Sweetie and Sparrow, who took their unspoken cue to support Wycliffe on his unsteady way to medical treatment, following behind the Ravenclaw Head Girl like obedient puppies. She expected Vlad to be gone when she returned her attention to him, but he remained in the same moonlit spot, just as impassive but perceptably more relaxed. It was probably because he had given in to the Dark Force of Cuteness and had picked up Woona for a good ear-scratching.

“Thank you, Headmistress. Clan Donnachaidh owes you a great debt.”

“One problem, one objection from the Ministry—” started McGonagall, only to be interrupted by a raised pale hand.

“I will use every bit of my mundane influence to calm the worries of the Ministry, without the use of any magic, of course. Other than a few minor bribes or investments. I am just relieved that my precious Poppy has a safe place during these dangerous times.”

“Safe is relative, I suppose.” McGonagall shook her head and put away her wand. “At least one parent in the world considers inside this place to be more safe than outside.”

“Oh, it is, Headmistress. Your errant student, Mister Riddle, did not merely make a power vacuum in the wizarding world. As your world went on, vast dark forces have been set against each other in a disturbance of equilibrium that had been in place for centuries, like a huge clock made of glass and tense springs.”

“And one mad wizard wandering around inside with a hammer,” said McGonagall. “Is it really that dangerous for you? It’s been—” McGonagall counted briefly. “Good heavens. She’s old enough to have her grandchildren attending Hogwarts.”

“Regardless, it is time for her to move on from my care. The world has become far more dangerous than your school,” said Vlad. “The known is always less dangerous than the unknown, and there are things which no living creature has encountered let loose upon the world again.” A faint smile emerged onto Vlad’s pale face. “And they all fear the young man who destroyed Voldemort twice. The man who came from this school. That you trained. You are a dangerous woman in their eyes, She Who Was Named From Athena, Daughter of Zeus. Guard them all well from danger.”

Nox should have extinguished all lights within the near vicinity, leaving the crystal mines around them completely engulfed in darkness.

Except there was a dim glow to one side, as Theodore had begun to expect.

“Come out,” he commanded sternly with his wand leveled. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

To his shock, New Leaf stepped in front of his wand, a flickering silhouette in the darkness. “No,” he said quietly. “They’re afraid. Threats will only drive them further into the mines. You don’t have to come out if you want to stay hidden. We’ll leave what food and water we have for you.”

“Sombra,” came a raspy voice from out in the darkness. “Dead?”

“Absolutely.” New Leaf began to take bottles and packages out of his saddlebags and put them on the ground. “Dead and gone. We’re destroying his traps and laboratories, one at a time, until every scrap of his influence is gone forever. The ponies in the city are still just as frightened as you.”

“Doubtful.”

New Leaf’s laugh was bitter and brief. “You should have seen this human when he saved Shining Armor. We were both terrified, but he didn’t hesitate a moment. Now the mares around the city look at my human friend like he’s Shining Armor’s weird younger brother. I swear, some of them want him as a mate.”

That triggered a laugh, a strange yipping-like bark of irony that was echoed in several pony-like giggles.

“Have seen Armor Shining. That not him. Know Sombra dead. Pups still fear.”

Theodore’s eyes had adjusted enough to make out the vague dog-like shape at the center of the faint glow of a firefly lantern, and several small pony foal silhouettes around it. “Kids,” he murmured. “Trapped down here.”

“Not trapped. Want stay with me. Protect them. Found when Granite lost crew. Not leave.”

“You’re one of Granite’s crew?” The Supersensory Charm helped Theodore see better in the dark, but the larger shape did not look much like a pony. “You’re protecting these foals?”

“Yes. Safe here. No shadows.”

“Children need the light.” Theodore took a deep breath, filled with dust and stale air. “We learned that in our school. Terrible things attacked the children there, but the teachers protected us as we grew up. They taught us to take our fears and use them as weapons against those who wanted to harm us. A shield to protect, and a wand to strike. Bring them with us into the city and I promise, I will protect them like the teachers protected our school.”

Generally poorly, with significant losses, and occasional successes.

“We should go,” said New Leaf, his horn lit with a dim light that barely illuminated their small group. “They’re not going to leave.”

“Yes, they are.” The odd shape moved forward, urging several small foals in front of it. “You are good talker. The pups fear. They should learn from one who had eaten fear. Come, small ones. Let us see the light of your city again. You will be afraid, but eat it like this brave one. It will make you strong. Like him.”

The absolutely last thing Theodore expected was for the larger shape to be vaguely dog-like, dressed in a few cloth rags and walking mostly on its back paws, or her paws, as he realized when he saw the line of shriveled dugs tracking down both sides of her chest. A lifetime of wizard habits had him removing his cloak and turning his back, transforming it into as close to a shirt-vest-cover-thing as his lessons could manage, then handing it nearly backwards to the dog-creature as she drew near.

“Magic,” breathed one of the little foals, who he could see was a unicorn now that it was closer.

“Young unicorns were afraid of using their magic when… he ruled,” whispered New Leaf. It shook Theodore somewhere deep inside, and he lowered himself to one knee.

“The young should never be afraid to use their gifts,” he said to the cringing reddish foal, whose pale pink horn stuck almost comically out of its tangled mane. While still not looking at the dog, he reached out, slowly as not to spook the child, and unwound a few matted strands of its mane. “In our world, it is a terrible crime to stop a young wizard from using their magic. It can hurt them in ways far more terrible than children should hear.”

“Dogs know pups should dig,” said the dog-creature. “Keep paws strong. Grow. Like flowers.”

There was relative quiet while the odd group began to pick their way back out of the crystal mines, following Gneiss and his knowledge of the various paths. The pony children were almost mute, clustering around the dog to the point where Theodore had problems counting them. It was only when they reached the outside and the late afternoon sunshine that he could tell there were only eight of them, six which were unicorns.

The dog was holding one paw over her eyes and blinking vigorously, which made Theodore conjure a second pair of sunglasses for her. “Here,” he said. “This will help, Miss… I didn’t get your name.”

“Not have real name since left pack.” The dog put on the glasses with a bit of fumbling and looked around, still half-hunched over and looking even worse in the light where the mange and tangled coat was visible. “Have only called word.”

She said the word.

It was a rather impolite word, although accurate for a female dog. Still, he could not in good faith use it on a brave creature who displayed such loyalty to children not even of her own kind, and it tripped a deep memory of his own. Of eyes he could barely remember, and a gentle voice reading a bedtime story. His father disapproved, since it was from a very muggle author, but it had pirates and redskins, flying children and impossible adventures, and it held him entranced for many nights when he should have been going to sleep.

“Naa,” he drawled. “Can’t call you that, Mum.”

“Not mum. Diamond Dog not have name like that,” she said with flattened ears and looking away.

“Actually, may we call you Nana? It’s a… respected name for somebody in your position.” Theodore carefully mouthed the word to the tiny ponies trailing along with them and nodded vigorously until they caught on.

“Nana,” said the red-headed unicorn foal, quickly followed by the rest of his tiny peers. “Nana, Nana.”

“I think it is a far better name than… that one,” he replied with a quick nod and smile to his diminutive co-conspirators. “Let’s get the children to Princess Cadence before you try to argue any more, Mum.”

“A mum is also a flower, like you said,” volunteered New Leaf, who seemed a little confused by the name-switching. “You were working for Granite Peaks before the… event. Would you like to work with us again? It would protect the foals outside of the mines.”

There was no real response, even after they met in a blur with the perky pink Princess Cadence and saw the children off to rediscovered parents or caregivers. It was an intensely busy time with ponies coming and going, and he had lost track of the question until he walked back into the workroom where the Sombra-clearing project planning was in full messy array.

“Is much progress,” said the dog, looking at the string-covered map. “How many more dead?”

“None,” said Theodore. “Granite Peaks’ crew was the last, and they’re still in some sort of magical stasis. We’re fairly sure they’re alive, but we have no idea how to get them back out.”

“Huh.” The dog reached for one of the scrolls Theodore had isolated, and cringed back when Theodore grabbed her wrist before she could touch it. Nana’s coat was softer than he expected, with most of the tangled fur licked smooth, and had enough strength in the muscles under that warm coat to throw Theodore across the room if she had wanted. She was far more different than the crup dog Theodore had wanted as a child, and with those muscles, could be far more dangerous.

“There’s…something on that particular scroll. Not quite sure what, but…”

The dog-creature snorted and pawed at her face, much like Theodore found himself doing when sleep had been eluding him for several days. “Like trap on parchment. Warned Granite about passage. Also trap. All trap. Traps have traps.”

“Wait a minute. The passage where the trapbreakers got caught is just a trap? No way through?” Theodore grabbed his set of maps. “Soundings say there are more passages beyond it.”

“Not through it,” said the dog.

Although he wanted to object, it made sense. The cage trap in the castle had been designed to catch people… that is ponies attempting to evade fixed defenses. There were only so many paths which concealed an invader from unwanted observation, but in the passages beneath the castle grounds, an invader would be seeking the tyrant’s weakness, breaking in doors, searching libraries, attempting to free prisoners. It brought an arctic chill up his spine to think of some brave Gryffindor pressing forward in a doomed attempt to do all the classic hero-actions and getting sliced and diced in return, as well as any poor sucker who accompanied the fool.

Textbook heroes in the Crystal Empire would have a very short book. Perhaps a pamphlet.

Granite Peaks and his crew had been progressing in a heroic straightforward manner, burning out the protective runes, breaking down barriers, pressing forward to the cheese in the trap without regard that Sombra would have visited his laboratory without any burning, breaking, or pressing. It was a very Slytherin way of thinking that Theodore had recently neglected, and worse, it was exactly why he had been selected for this task.

“Nana,” he started rather distractedly, “you worked with Granite before. What would it take to keep you here as part of our crew? We need your expertise.”

Theodore finished unrolling the map and pinned it down on the table with several empty potion bottles while Nana hesitated, almost as if she were going to dash away in fear. She pawed once at the map, looking back and forth while breathing in short pants. Finally, she took a deep breath and shook her head vigorously, making her floppy ears flap about.

“No. Not good. Got others trapped. Why me?”

“Because Granite Peaks did not listen to you. It’s mostly his fault the crew was trapped. I will listen to you, and quite obviously you listen to me. That’s a rare quality where I come from. Also, the kids trusted you. How many weeks did you stay with them when you could have returned to the city? Eating mushrooms and lizards. Staying in the dark.”

During their brief stop at the castle, Princess Cadence had found more clothes for the Diamond Dog somewhere, and Nana touched the sunglasses she had tucked into one of a multitude of pockets. “Dark good for dog. Too much light bad. Sneak out at night. Gather pony food. Some ponies leave food at mine. They hope. Many hope too much.”

“There are… dead ponies in the mine,” said Leaf in what was certainly not a question.

“Yes.” The dog sniffled and wiped her nose on the baggy red vest, making Theodore determined to find her a sizable kerchief. “Old ponies come to mines. Take them out. Grieve. Howl in pony way. Return again. Leave food for pups. Written words. Pups afraid of ponies. Stay. You not pony. Eat fear. Not much afraid. Leave with you. Brave.”

“Nana, I assure you that I am just as afraid of the things Sombra left behind as any of them,” said Theodore in an unexpected burst of honesty. “I learned to use that fear, which is why I’m here. With your help, we have a better chance at making life safe for those foals.”

“Hmm. Is difficult.” The dog took out the sunglasses Theodore had conjured and ran them through her short, blunt fingers with practiced ease. “You know of magic well. Make these. Smart.”

“Smart in some ways,” said New Leaf, who seemed to be angling his body to stay as much between the Diamond Dog and Theodore as possible. “Dumb as a brick in others. He needs a keeper.”

“Mmmm,” said Nana as she put the sunglasses away and looked over the map. “Stay for a while. Until you no need. Then go.”

“Thank you, Nana,” said Theodore. “We’ve got a long job in front of us.”

“Very long,” agreed Nana. “Probably kill us.”