Harry Potter and the Harmony Kingdom

Celestialys Sol Newstar, better known to her subjects as simply Princess Celestia, was finishing up her paperwork for the afternoon.

A decade of navigating bureaucracy and endless scrolls of paperwork had honed her skills to near perfection, and yet, she couldn't shake the weary feeling that it would never be enough. Even today, she found herself working ahead, as much for her own peace of mind as for the recently reinstated Princess Crescenta Luna Newstar—her younger sister. Luna, having returned after a millennium-long absence, still found herself adjusting to the workload, and Celestia had taken it upon herself to shield her from the overwhelming tide of responsibilities that came with ruling a kingdom.

Celestia stifled a chuckle, recalling Luna’s wide-eyed fascination when she was first introduced to the radio. The simple wonders of the modern world were a constant source of joy, even in times of tension.

Yet, despite the seemingly peaceful lull in her day, there was an ever-present ache at the back of her mind.

Her prized student, Twilight Sparkle, had yet to send her daily letter. The "Friendship Report," as Twilight had fondly called it, had always been punctual, but now, for the first time, there was silence. The knot in Celestia’s stomach tightened.

Though she was accustomed to waiting, her worry was not like the gentle worry of a mother watching over a child. This was something deeper—an ancient, predatory feeling that told her something was wrong.

Her thoughts shifted to the young mares and their mission. Perhaps it had been too hasty to send them to face such a dangerous trial. Celestia knew the importance of the Elements of Harmony, but she also knew their limits. She had argued for caution at the war council, but the pressure was too great. The factions in Griffonia were restless. The continent was bracing for war, and the Crystal Empire, now under the support of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, was bound to stand beside Equestria. The stakes were higher than ever before, and all of Celestia’s diplomatic efforts had begun to unravel.

The only hope that remained was Twilight and her friends. If they could succeed in removing the dragon that had taken residence on Silverpeak Mountain, maybe, just maybe, it would calm the simmering unrest in Griffonia. She hoped it, though deep down, Celestia was not sure if anything could still prevent war.

As the sun began to dip lower, signaling the time for Luna’s rise, Celestia felt the familiar surge of magical energy. A familiar warmth in the air. The magical flames that heralded the arrival of a letter from her student.

She sighed with relief, grateful for the distraction, as the scroll materialized before her.

But when she unfurled the parchment, the smile she wore faltered, and then fell completely as she read.

To Her Majesty Princess Celestia:

It is an honor to be able to communicate with you, Your Majesty, though I wish the circumstances were happier.

I write on behalf of your student, Twilight Sparkle, to convey the good, the bad, and the terrible news.

The good news is that the dragon that had nested on Silverpeak Mountain and threatened to blanket your kingdom in soot has been effectively removed, with no harm to those involved. Although, it is possible the dragon suffered some psychological distress at the hooves of the Pegasus known as Fluttershy.

The bad news is that most of the soot fell into the Everfree Forest. It is feared that the magical vegetation in that area may react unpredictably to the contaminants, and new anomalies may arise from it.

The terrible news, however, is that Twilight Sparkle… is no longer with us. She sacrificed herself to save Fluttershy from a rock avalanche during the dragon's expulsion. Her body was recovered, though the funeral has been postponed as we await word from her family. Young Spike is being sent to live with his grandparents in the meantime. I will see to it that the Golden Oak is properly cared for.

My sincerest condolences.

Nimbus Firebolt – World Traveler – He Who Was Not Fast Enough.

Celestia’s heart froze. She read the letter once, then again, but the words did not change. Twilight Sparkle, her most beloved student, had perished.

Her mind struggled to process the reality of the words on the scroll. Twilight had always been more than just a student—she was a part of Celestia’s heart, a reflection of the very magic that defined Equestria.

With careful grace, Celestia folded the scroll, her expression unreadable, before storing it in a drawer locked with the magic of sorrow. She didn’t need the letter to remind her—she knew.

She moved silently through the palace halls, her hooves echoing against the marble floors like the toll of a distant bell. The guards she passed knew better than to speak. They saw the hollow look in her eyes and offered no words of comfort. They did not know the weight she bore.

When Celestia reached her chambers, she sealed the door with a whispered spell, ensuring that the outside world could not intrude on her grief. She allowed herself to collapse, to fall onto the cold floor of her room.

And then, for the first time in centuries, Princess Celestia cried.

She cried for the life lost. She cried for Twilight, whose journey had been cut short. She cried for the countless lives she had watched pass through time, knowing that each was precious, and each would inevitably fade.

She cried for the wars yet to come, for the blood that would be spilled. She cried because she was immortal, destined to watch the world change while she remained the same.

She cried for the countless souls who had come and gone, knowing that she would always be there to send them to their final rest.

She cried… because, like the sun that she raised every morning, she was destined to shine alone.

And in that moment, Celestia felt the weight of eternity press down on her like never before.

[Harry POV]

Harry carefully arranged the stack of books, his hooves moving with a practiced precision as he tidied the bookstore. The smell of old paper and wood lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of lavender that came from the dried flowers hanging near the window. Each book he touched seemed to weigh heavier than the last, as if the very act of organizing them was a way to stave off the grief that clung to the space.

He had promised Princess Celestia in his letter that he would take charge of the bookstore, and so he did. It was his responsibility now, though it felt more like a burden. Cleaning and organizing the shop was an attempt to restore some semblance of order to the chaos left in the wake of its former owner’s passing.

Most of the items he found were books—books on magic, history, and science—but there were also things that belonged to a life lived: an advanced chemistry set, a set of brushes for painting, and photographs of a family that was no longer there. The store had once been a place of bustling energy, a haven for those seeking knowledge, but now, it was a shadow of itself, heavy with the absence of its caretaker.

The atmosphere of the place was thick with sorrow. Even the ancient tree that stood tall in the corner, its branches heavy with age and wisdom, seemed to mourn the loss. It was as though the very wood of the place knew that its most recent owner would never return, and that knowledge seeped into the air like a chill.

Harry sighed, his eyes lingering on the collection of items that had once been part of someone’s life. He was no stranger to loss—after all, life was full of fleeting moments, the inevitable ebb and flow of friends and loved ones.

His hooves paused on the last remaining photograph. In it, Twilight stood with her friends, all of them laughing and carefree, their smiles as bright as the sun. They were standing by the fountain in the middle of the village, their faces framed by the soft light of an afternoon sun. The image felt painfully out of place in the quiet, dim bookstore. It was a snapshot of a happiness that no longer existed.

Harry grimaced, the weight of it pressing on his chest. The faces of the ponies in the photograph were etched with such life, such promise. And now, only memories remained.

It seemed that, more than ever, the ones who left behind these holes in the world were always the ones who took the easy way out. They were the ones who had their time, who had their place in the sun, and left without a second thought. It was those left behind who had to carry the burden of that absence. It was the ones who stayed who had to pick up the pieces and pretend they could move forward.

Harry gently set the photo down, his hooves trembling slightly as he pulled away. He couldn’t look at it any longer, not with the same level of certainty that he once could. Not now, when the weight of the loss felt too great.

The silence of the room pressed in on him, the shadows of the past hanging just out of reach. He had a responsibility to fulfill, a duty to honor. But for now, just for a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of feeling the grief. The sadness, the weight of it, would never leave—not for him, not for any of them.

And as he stood in the middle of the bookstore, surrounded by books and memories, he realized something else. This was what it meant to be a pony—this was the price of living in a world where time never stood still, where those you loved would eventually fade away.

You were left to carry the weight, not just of your own loss, but of the collective sorrow of all those who had gone before. And sometimes, the only thing you could do was to carry on.

The other mares... not all of them had taken their friend’s death well, and Harry knew it firsthand, thanks to his ability in Occlumancy.

It seemed that for Applejack, the farm mare, it wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed death up close. She’d held herself together remarkably well, though her stomach churned with every step. Her teeth were gritted, her eyes narrowed with determination, as she focused on the mission at hand. There was no time for weakness.

Rarity, the fashionista, had barely managed to keep her composure. The sight of so much blood and gore had pushed her to the brink of vomiting, but with an impressive force of will, she kept her mind occupied. She turned her thoughts to fabric, to stitching together the broken pieces of her mind, masking the horror with thoughts of design, anger, and fashion. It was a coping mechanism, one that had served her before.

Pinkie Pie, the party-loving mare, was the one who seemed most affected. The youngest of them all, barely a teenager, she still held onto a shred of innocence that had been violently shattered in that moment. Seeing someone’s head crushed so brutally was no way to lose your innocence. Pinkie’s bright, bubbly personality had been replaced with something far more distant, her once vibrant energy sucked away. She was practically catatonic now—her body moving naturally, responding automatically, but her mind was gone, lost somewhere in the darkness. Her large, wide blue eyes stared blankly into nothingness, making her appear more like a ghost than the mare she used to be.

Thankfully, Rarity, despite her own pain, was there to offer some form of comfort to Pinkie, though it was clear that it wasn’t enough to pull her out of her stupor.

Fluttershy, the gentle yellow pegasus, was the one who had suffered the cruelest blow—no comfort was offered to her. Instead, she was verbally obliterated by Rainbow Dash. Their childhood bond had dissolved long ago, replaced by friction between their vastly different personalities. What had once been a deep friendship had become something more strained, their interactions filled with barely suppressed resentment.

It seemed that Rainbow Dash had reached her breaking point. In a fit of raw frustration, she finally lashed out, her words biting and sharp, fueled by years of pent-up anger and disappointment. She had always been the stronger of the two, both physically and mentally, but she couldn't bear the passivity that Fluttershy had come to embody.

“THE ONLY REASON I STAYED IN THIS TOWN WAS BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO WEAK TO BE ANYTHING MORE THAN A HERMIT WHO LIVES IN THE FOREST BECAUSE TALKING TO YOUR OWN SHADOW MAKES YOU PEE! I’VE GIVEN UP MANY OF MY OPPORTUNITIES AND DREAMS BECAUSE I KNEW YOU’D NEVER BE ABLE TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF! I HAD TO STAY UP DAILY TO MAKE SURE NO VERMIN WOULD COME NEAR YOUR DAMN BURROW AND EAT YOU ALIVE WHILE YOU SLEPT SURROUNDED BY YOUR ANIMAL ‘FRIENDS’! AND YOU… YOU… YOU—ARHGK!”

Rainbow Dash couldn’t continue. Her rage hit a wall, and with a strangled cry of frustration, she flapped her wings and flew off at high speeds, disappearing into the distance with no destination in mind.

No one tried to stop her.

Applejack was the first to regain her composure. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her eyes calculating. She knew what had to be done, even if it wasn’t what any of them wanted.

"Girls, I don't like this, but we have no other choice. We gotta move on. I know after what happened, none of us wanna, but if we don’t finish the mission, we won’t have a home to come back to." Her voice was softer than usual, the thick southern drawl barely audible, as though the words themselves pained her.

Rarity took a slow, steadying breath, letting it out in a long exhale. She reached for a small towel, wiping the blood-spattered mask from her face, and nodded solemnly, her resolve hardening.

Pinkie mechanically nodded as well, her gaze fixed on the grisly sight of their fallen friend’s headless body. Her once bouncy pink mane had fallen limp, straight and dull, as though the very essence of her personality had drained away.

Fluttershy could do little more than nod weakly. Her face was so low it almost touched the ground, her long mane hiding her tear-streaked face. Thick drops of sorrow fell to the dirt below.

With a final look filled with sorrow, Applejack resumed the march, the others following behind her, with Fluttershy trailing at the rear, her steps slow and hesitant.

Harry had been watching all of this from the shadows, silently observing the aftermath of their tragedy. He had arrived too late to prevent the catastrophe, but at least he could ensure they made it back safely. His presence was barely needed, as the mares, emotionally drained, did not respond well to the elder dragon’s apathetic answers when they asked him to move from their path.

It was Fluttershy, of all ponies, who finally snapped. In a moment of surprising fury, she let out a terrifying roar that startled both her friends and the dragon. Without hesitation, she launched herself at the dragon, her hooves using his own tail as a weapon to strangle him, delivering a blow that no one would have expected from the timid pegasus.

"YOU'VE BEEN A REALLY BAD DRAGON, YOU KNOW? NOW DO ME A FAVOR AND... VFUCK OFF AND NEVER COME BACK!"

The dragon, caught off guard, quickly retreated, especially with the tiny but fierce pegasus using his own tail as a strangulation device. He hastily retreated, as Fluttershy’s roar echoed in the air—a deep, long, painful cry that seemed to shake the very mountain itself.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, Fluttershy collapsed, her strength spent in the heat of her fury. Her body gave way to exhaustion, and she fainted, her unconscious form falling limp in the air.

With the mission completed, the group began their descent down the mountain, Applejack carefully carrying Fluttershy on her back. It was at that moment that Harry, cloaked in invisibility, revealed himself. Using a complex blend of Glamour and Occlumency, he disguised himself.

[Excerpt from Jacqueline Appleton's (Applejack) Journal]

We were walking down the mountain, each of us quietly preparing ourselves to bring Twilight’s... body back, just so we could leave this day behind us.

As we neared the disaster site, I saw a figure in the distance, standing near Twilight. With a subtle gesture, I stopped the others.

The pony was cloaked in brown—common attire for those who traveled great distances. His fur was a muted gray, and his mane was dark, almost black. From this distance, I couldn’t make out the color of his eyes.

Rarity and I exchanged a look, something we didn’t need to put into words. It was strange, but we always seemed to understand each other without speaking. Together, we started moving cautiously toward him.

To be honest, the white one had surprised me.

Most ponies, when they encounter death for the first time, falter. I always figured she’d be the first to break under the weight of it. But there she was, standing tall. Life has a funny way of surprising you like that.

For Pinkie Pie... I could only pray to Princess Celestia to give her strength.

For now, Pinkie was still walking with us, physically responding to our movements. But her eyes... there was no one home. No light. It was like her soul had already checked out, leaving behind only an empty vessel.

She won’t be the same after today. If she ever comes back from this... I hope she doesn’t end up like Uncle Caramel. Trapped in your own mind, unable to break free from your own misery and illusions... It’s a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Fluttershy will change, too, but how? I guess that’s something only the goddesses know.

Even in her sleep, she was crying.

I couldn’t say if it was because of Twilight’s death, or losing her oldest friend, or simply because of her own... weakness. Maybe it was a bit of everything.

As we got closer, I could see the strange unicorn's horn glowing—a dull green. Not quite right.

Normally, unicorn magic has a shine to it, almost like glitter in the sun. This one? Nothing but a weak, flickering glow.

Then Rarity gasped, and I focused on what the unicorn was doing.

I don’t know how to explain it, but for a moment, everything seemed to move in reverse.

Blood flowed upward, bones shifted back into place, and fur regained its flawless sheen.

And there she was. Twilight Sparkle. As pristine as if she had just been born. But still... not really her. She was dead, her chest unmoving, yet somehow her body was restored—head intact, as though it had never been severed.

Rarity stood frozen, her hoof still raised to her mouth, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

I, too, was taken aback, but something inside me pushed me to move forward. Slowly, I approached the stallion. His ears twitched at the sound of my hooves before he turned to face me.

His eyes were a shade of green darker than mine. Up close, I could see he was nearly as large as Big Macintosh.

We locked eyes for a moment before he spoke, his voice low and soft, carrying an accent I couldn’t place. His lips curled into a sad smile.

“Friend of yours, I imagine?”

"Yup," was all I could muster. What else could I say?

The stallion laughed, a soft, almost melancholic chuckle. He returned his gaze to Twilight’s body, his expression unreadable.

Twilight looked... peaceful. It wasn’t the same as before, when her mind was always churning, always on the edge of stress. Now, she looked like she was simply sleeping, serene. The only thing that gave it away as a lie was the paleness creeping into her face.

We stood in silence for a long while, the wind the only sound between us. The soft rustling of leaves, the distant call of birds.

Eventually, Rarity stepped forward, leading Pinkie behind her. The stallion nodded at them with the same sad smile, and Rarity returned the gesture, but her smile was far from sincere. Pinkie only blinked, her vacant gaze still fixed on the lifeless form of Twilight.

A few more seconds passed before the stallion spoke again.

“...You’re from Ponyville, correct?”

We nodded.

“Then allow me to accompany you. I know you probably don’t want a stranger tagging along after such a tragedy, but you’ll need someone to help carry the body back. You have two who are... unwell, and both are clearly exhausted. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to leave you alone.”

His offer was genuine, and his concern for us was palpable. Maybe it was foolish to trust him so quickly, but after everything that had happened, we were all too drained to question it.

We wrapped Twilight’s body in the blanket that Rarity had brought, and the stallion used his magic to levitate her gently. We began the long walk back down the mountain, our steps slow, our minds heavy with the weight of what had occurred.

The journey back was eerily quiet. No more words were exchanged. The silence felt suffocating, but there was nothing else to say.

When we reached the outskirts of town, we parted ways. Rarity decided to guide the stallion and Pinkie to the town hospital, where the morgue was located.

As for me, I headed straight for my farm, Fluttershy’s unconscious form still resting on my back.

The bed never looked so inviting.
Chin´agamadre