Twilight coughed into her hand before beginning, straightening her posture as she addressed the visitor.

"So. Harry James Potter, correct?" she asked, slipping seamlessly into what her brother often referred to as her "politics mode."

"That's correct," Harry confirmed, instantly recognizing the shift in tone. He, too, adjusted his stance, stepping into what he privately called his own "diplomatic mode." Years of dealing with wizarding politics had trained him well, and he knew the importance of matching the formality of his counterpart.

The other mares watched the exchange in silence, their curiosity evident, but none dared to interrupt the formalities unfolding before them.

Twilight took a deep breath before rising to her hooves, the practiced elegance of her movements displaying her royal tutelage. Understanding the protocol, Harry followed suit, standing as well. The air between them grew thick with unspoken tradition and power.

"As the sole heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Midnight, I, Twilight Sparkle, extend our deepest gratitude for your invaluable aid during the Nightmare incident," Twilight declared, her voice steady and regal. "If there is anything within my power to grant, do not hesitate to request it."

She punctuated her words with a deep bow, a rare sign of formality that made the weight of the moment all the more significant.

Harry, for his part, did not respond immediately. He understood the gravity of such declarations. Words spoken in these circumstances were not mere pleasantries; they carried weight, influence, and binding intent. He took a moment to weigh his response carefully, ensuring that his request aligned with both necessity and propriety.

Finally, he inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her words before speaking.

"As the head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter and Peverell, I, Harry James Potter, accept the gratitude offered. In return, my request is simple yet vital: I seek safe haven within your lands for the foreseeable future. As a foreigner in this realm, I stand without ally or home, and such sanctuary would grant me the stability to find my footing in this unfamiliar world."

The room held its breath as the words settled, the significance of the exchange not lost on any present. Twilight's eyes met his, searching for deeper meaning, but she found only sincerity and calculated precision. A request for sanctuary—politically delicate, but not unreasonable given the circumstances.

A moment later, Twilight nodded, a small yet decisive motion.

"Then it shall be granted."

They shake hands and with that, the first true accord between their worlds was sealed.

"What in the Buking name of Celestia was that?!".- Dash the crash ruin the moment like a stone through glass.

"Politics Dash/Lass/Dear/Silly/sugar-cube/Rain".- All the present entone at the same time in a deppand tone making the rainbow mare to sweat nervously.

"Ha! Jinx! Now you all owe me a soda!" Pinkie exclaimed.

The girls, except for Dash, groaned, but Harry just chuckled.

(Nice to see some things stay the same no matter the world.)

Rarity took the opportunity to step forward, batting her lashes. "Now that the formalities are out of the way, darling, how about a proper introduction? A dashing stallion like yourself must have quite the tale to tell—especially if you managed to hold off a goddess." She finished with a flirtatious wink.

Applejack rolled her eyes. She was more than used to Rarity's habit of flirting with anything that so much as breathed.

The stallion in question chuckled once more.

"Well, as you might have heard, my name is Harry. Harry James Potter. Freelance investigator, licensed healer, wizard, fool and hero wannabe extraordinaire. In short, just a bloke who's been dealt a bad hand by life, people, and fate—but still tries to make a difference. Preferably in a positive way."

"Well, ya certainly did, sugarcube. You sure did," Applejack agreed with a nod.

The mare, however, noted that the stallion was rather humble—if a bit self-deprecating.

"And that’s exactly what I want to understand…" Twilight said, her tone shifting to something more formal. "How did you do it? No—better question: how was it even possible?" She hesitated for a moment before uncovering her gloved hand. "... And is it reversible?"

Fluttershy, Rarity, and Pinkie gasped in surprise.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash hissed in sympathy.

Harry frowned. His vision wasn’t the best without his glasses, but even he could see that something was wrong.

It was an odd and unpleasant sight.

Twilight’s hand wasn’t deformed, nor did it have any abscesses, but where her fur had once been a brilliant purple, it was now a dull, lifeless gray.

It was as if the color—no, the life—had been drained from the limb.

Harry’s emerald eyes sharpened, turning almost reptilian as he extended a hand cordially.

"May I?" he asked.

Twilight, both cautious and intrigued by the self-modification magic he had displayed earlier, extended her hand.

Harry took it delicately, his magic-enhanced vision flaring to life as he examined it.

Normally, magic flowed through a being like a river of fiery, colorless energy, coursing through pathways that mirrored the bloodstream—overlapping with, but distinct from, the actual blood vessels. This was why blood magic had been the first ever discovered; humans had to cut themselves to cast even the simplest of spells, like Repulso.

Wands and other foci merely served as guides, allowing magic to be directed and controlled, preventing it from scattering chaotically.

That was how it worked for humans.

For these hyper-evolved equines, however, magic functioned differently.

It still coursed through pathways across their bodies, yes—but it wasn’t contained.

Magic permeated their very being, from their coats and fingernails to their blood and bones.

For wizards, magic was an ability—something that could be stripped away without being fatal.

For ponies, magic was life itself.

Without it, they wouldn’t just weaken.

They would die.

"Can you move them?" Harry asked gently, pushing aside the surge of self-loathing that always arose when he harmed someone—even unintentionally.

Twilight nodded and flexed her fingers.

Muscles and nerves responded as they should, but magic did not flow.

Her entire hand had become an anti-magic zone. Even the briefest contact with his poisonous blood had caused significant damage to these beings. It was fortunate he had control over it.

"They respond normally, no delay in input… but they feel strange," Twilight observed, her voice clinical, almost detached. "I can sense them, I know they're there, yet… they feel empty. Numb."

It sounded like a scientific report, merely an intellectual curiosity to her.

At least, that was how it appeared at first glance.

But Harry knew better.

She was curious, yes—but also unsettled. Not hopeless, though. Hermione acts the same way sometimes…

"You also seem different, darling," Rarity commented after a brief moment of deliberation.

Twilight blinked. "How so?" she asked, tilting her head.

"You seem more… calm?" Fluttershy spoke up softly for the first time since entering the room.

Pinkie nodded rapidly. "Yup! You’re way more relaxo and plaxo!"

Twilight frowned in thought.

"...You're right. All three of you are. I just feel… less explosive?" she murmured, as if realizing it herself for the first time.

"Well, if anyone knows, it's the old man. So! What did you do, bastard?" Rainbow Dash demanded, shooting a glare at Harry.

He ignored her. His focus had shifted to something on Twilight’s wrist.

"Dash, please behave," Fluttershy scolded, giving her childhood friend a look that made the pegasus back down—for now.

"Old man? What in tarnation bit ya to make that assumption?" Applejack asked, a bit confrontational.

It was rare to find someone as honest as her family was.

And that’s exactly what this bizarre stallion was—honest.

When he described himself, he wasn’t downplaying his abilities on purpose or trying to hide something.

He genuinely believed he was exactly as he said—nothing more, nothing less.

(A fool… Guess that’s what ya gotta be if ya go against a god and still dream of bein’ a hero…) Applejack thought.

"What? Did he enchant you like Jaime Cúmulo?" Dash teased, never one to back down from a challenge. Her tone was the kind that would’ve gotten anyone else punched in the face.

Silence fell over the room.

Rainbow Dash paled as her friends stared at her blankly.

"Who?" was the unspoken question on every mare’s mind.

Then—

"OH MY! OH MY!"

Rarity shattered the silence with a glass-shattering squeal, her hands flying to her cheeks.

"Dashy! I didn’t know you knew Cúmulo! Oh, we simply must discuss this over tea—no! Coffee! Shaken, but not stirred!" she gushed, grabbing the athlete’s hands in excitement.

Rainbow, for her part, could feel every ounce of her rude and cool persona melting away like an ice cube in the desert.

(My street… creed… ruined…) she lamented internally, fully aware that while Rarity wasn’t one for gossiping behind anypony’s back, she had a remarkable talent for loose lips when it came to less important secrets.

It was only a matter of time now.

The rest of the mares chuckled—except for Twilight, who merely raised an eyebrow, still not entirely used to this kind of camaraderie.

"Well, that was entertaining," Harry remarked, humor lacing his voice as he finally pulled away from Twilight’s wrist. "But I’m done here."

The ponies blinked and turned their attention back to Twilight’s hand.

The color was steadily returning, the lifeless gray giving way to vibrant purple once more. Meanwhile, Harry casually wiped something off her wrist with a napkin.

"Good job!" Pinkie cheered before tilting her head curiously. "But what did you do?"

Harry smiled at the energetic mare, his slit pupils making the expression look almost predatory.

"I just removed… well, my blood, from her system," he explained. "I forced it out through her sweat. Since the venom in it wasn’t active— as it had a different objective—her magic should return to normal quickly."

He held up the napkin. In the center, a dark stain glistened, reeking of metal and acid.

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. Shifting them always left them dry—snakes, after all, couldn’t exactly blink.

When he opened them again, they were back to their usual round, kind emeralds.

"Now, regarding her attitude change..." Harry mused before tilting his head slightly. "Hmm… answer me this—when you were a youngling, did you ever experience magic surges? And I mean really powerful ones."

Twilight considered the question briefly before nodding.

"Now that you mention it, yes. I had them quite frequently—or at least, that's what my family told me." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I think… yes, during my first magic surge, I transmuted my parents into potted plants… and then back, thankfully."

Her friends all stared at her with raised eyebrows.

Harry, on the other hand, simply nodded, his expression turning more serious.

"I see… Well, this might sound like a load of bollocks, but you might have had a case of Magic Overflow."

[To be continued...]

Author's Note

Author’s Note: For anypony wondering, I’ve aged up the main cast.

TL;DR: The Mane Six and other characters are now in their 20s.

I’m not exactly sure how old they were at the start of the series, but given that they act like adolescents—both literally and figuratively—I’d estimate their original ages to be around 15 to 17, give or take a few years. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity seem to be the oldest, as they have established jobs.

Applejack’s situation is a bit unclear, but it’s likely that Big Mac was the real owner of Sweet Apple Acres after their parents passed.

Pinkie Pie is not an employee or a helper—she’s an apprentice. This could mean she wasn’t even old enough to have a part-time job when she started working at Sugarcube Corner. It’s also very likely she ran away from home, considering how gloomy and restrictive her upbringing was for someone as energetic as her.

Twilight, on the other hoof, is a recent graduate from a school for geniuses. Who’s to say she didn’t graduate years ahead of schedule?