Elements of Harmony
Chapter 26: The Sorting
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LONDON, FOURTH EARTH
"Are you sure?" Fluttershy asked, looking at the bare stone wall between platforms 9 and 10 at King's Cross train station.
Twilight nodded firmly. "That's the one."
"If you're all so scared it won't work," Rainbow Dash said, "I'll go at it first. With a running start."
"Uh, you sure that's smart?" Applejack asked. "If it ain't the place, you're gonna smack right into the wall and spill all your stuff."
"At least I only have this much," Rainbow Dash said, patting the cart upon which her few suitcases containing books, supplies, and uniforms, as well as the cage for Tank, were perched. "Not like Rarity."
"We didn't even have a reason to shop for clothes at all," Twilight pointed out to Rarity. "How do you STILL have the most luggage?"
"Well, if you add in the beautifying potions, the Shield Hats, and everything Opalescence needs for a comfortable life…" Rarity ticked off the contents of the mountain of suitcases teetering for balance on her cart.
Rainbow Dash returned her attention to the wall. "I'm gonna do it."
"Don't!" Fluttershy gasped.
"It'll work!" Twilight insisted.
Rainbow Dash turned her cart toward the wall, charging at it with full speed. The cart touched the wall, and for an instant, five hearts stopped; then the cart phased right through, and Rainbow Dash disappeared to the other side.
"Told you," Twilight said with a smirk.
One by one, the others crossed the wall to find a new platform, one labeled 9 ¾. Here, a bright, shining train of a somewhat maroon shade was parked, steam rising from the pleasantly old-fashioned engine. This was the famous Hogwarts Express. Witches and wizards milled about in cloaks; groups of teens and preteens gathered in some corners to catch up with friends and in others to part with parents.
"Dropping glamour in three…two…" Twilight snapped her fingers, and the six were visible to everyone present as Kentaurides. There were some murmurs and some who stared, but for the most part, the crowd left them alone. They were able to board the train and find a compartment with little trouble.
Sliding the door of the compartment closed, Pinkie Pie gave a noticeable pout.
"What's wrong, Pinkie Pie?" Fluttershy asked.
"What if we don't make any friends at Hogwarts?" Pinkie worried. "What if nopony likes us?"
"That won't happen," Twilight stated, matter-of-factly. "We make friends wherever we go, remember?"
"And more importantly," Rarity added, "we'll have each other."
The train jolted. Then it began, ever so slowly, to chug out of the station.
"Ooh, we're moving!" Pinkie cried, bouncing up and down in her seat. "WE'RE MOVING!"
And so the journey began.
THE RAILWAYS OF THE UNITED KINGDOM, FOURTH EARTH
A candy trolley moved down the hallway of the Hogwarts Express, and Pinkie Pie, never one to miss the presence of candy, practically threw open the compartment door to make a few purchases. She brought her haul back into the compartment, spreading it out over the small table as Twilight closed the door behind her.
Rainbow Dash had fallen asleep, and it was determined that the others could talk as loudly as they wanted and not wake her, so no precaution was taken to be quiet—quite the opposite, as one had to speak rather loudly to be heard over her snoring. "What did you get?" Twilight asked.
"More chocolate frogs and Every Flavor Beans!" Pinkie announced. "They were my favorite! Hey, did any of you ever get to try any of these?"
"Admittedly no," Rarity said. "The chocolate frogs look nice."
"They are!" Pinkie handed one over. "Unwrap it!"
"Well, all right." Rarity unwrapped the sweet…only for it to jump onto her face as though it were a real, living frog. "EEEEWWWW! GETITOFF GETITOFF GETITOFF!"
"It's not a real frog!" Pinkie insisted, peeling the frog from Rarity's face and biting it in half. "It's only chocolate, see?"
Fluttershy, seeing the chocolate frog go limp in Pinkie's hand, fainted.
"Can I see one?" Twilight asked. "I kinda want to make sure they're not really sentient." She unwrapped one of her own, catching it by the leg to watch its movements. After a while, she determined that the movements were in a distinct, set pattern and contained none of the spontaneity of a living being. She snapped her fingers before it a few times, flashed a purple light before its eyes, and even yelled "HEY!" at it. The frog didn't react. "It's just an animation charm of some kind," she deduced. "Enough to make it move around a little bit and make some noise. But it isn't actually alive." With that conclusion, she bit into it.
"You gotta read the card, too!" Pinkie insisted, handing a shining card over to Twilight. "You too, Rarity!"
"Why, what is this?" Rarity picked up the card. "Where did this come from?"
"They're inside the wrappers!" Pinkie explained. "You collect them! They talk about witches and wizards from this world's history!"
"You mean that this whole time," Twilight said, astonished, "there were clues to the history of this world…HIDDEN IN CANDY WRAPPERS?" She glared at Pinkie. "AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"
Pinkie just shrugged sheepishly.
Twilight turned her attention to her card. The picture upon it, featuring a brunette, pale-skinned witch in medieval robes with flowing sleeves, moved as much as the portraits in McGonagall's office had, showing more signs of real life than the chocolate frog. She glared at Twilight with menace. Twilight made a mental note not to tear a chocolate frog card, ever, as she read the name and biography provided. "Morgana le Fay: The child of the Duke of Cornwall and Igraine. She was a dark witch, and very powerful." She shuddered. "I've read that name before. Dark and powerful…is a bit of an understatement." She tucked the card away safely. "Who's on yours, Rarity?"
Rarity's card was of a newer print, with a clearer-looking picture of a teenage boy, dark-haired and bespectacled, who was at first startled to see someone looking at his picture before shrugging and smiling. "Harry Potter," Rarity read. "The first and only known wizard to survive the Killing Curse, earning the title 'The Boy Who Lived.' Youngest Quidditch player in the last century after gaining the spot of Seeker in the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in his first year at Hogwarts in 1991. There's a lot more, but the last sentence reads, most famously for his defeat of the most dangerous dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort, in 1998." She put down the card. "This very year."
"Will we meet him at Hogwarts?" Pinkie asked.
Twilight shook her head. "1991 to 1998 is seven years. He's graduated by now."
"That's mighty important," Applejack noted. "Killin' off the guy who was makin' things difficult for this world in general. Reckon that's why they gave him a card in the same year."
"But he looks rather ordinary," Rarity said, looking at Harry's photograph.
"Back home, so do we," Applejack argued.
"Anypony wanna try the beans?" Pinkie said, offering up a bag of brightly colored jelly beans to change the subject. "They're literally every flavor! LITERALLY!"
"I get it," Twilight said. "So instead of peppermint and cherry, you can get spinach or ground beef. I'll take some." She reached into the bag, pulling out a few beans. She lay one on her tongue, biting into it. Suddenly, her face contorted.
"Did you get a sour one?" Rarity asked with concern.
Twilight swallowed hard. "No," she said at last. "Sweaty socks."
"I told you!" Pinkie insisted. "EVERY flavor!" She popped one into her mouth. "Mmmmm, chili pepper!"
"How do you even know what sweaty socks taste like, anyway?" Applejack asked Twilight.
"Don't ask," Twilight grumbled.
DEATH CITY, DEATH'S DOMAIN
The moon rose high in the violet sky, and upon its crescent, a face was clearly visible—a face with a bulbous white eye and a grinning, toothy smile. They said that on violent nights, blood would drip down from between the teeth. Below the moon, a city made of angular buildings, twisting roads, and tall towers rose, casting a great shadow. If someone with a very astute sense of aura were to walk around the city, that one might notice a certain aura that covered the entire city out to a certain point, marking off a border. It was beyond this border that the four Death Eaters appeared.
"Death City," Horvath remarked. "Still no less of a bizarre place."
Voldemort stepped back, visibly afraid of the aura that marked the border of the city. "Medusa won't be within the city walls," he pointed out, anxious to move on.
"I don't understand," Quirrell said, quite perplexed. "What is this place?"
"Shall I explain as we move on?" Horvath asked Voldemort.
"Moving on would be most convenient," Voldemort asserted. He turned and began to walk away from the city. Bellatrix hurried to catch up, attempting to stay right at her master's side.
As Horvath and Quirrell began to walk, Horvath grunted in derision. "I see that Bellatrix is once again after something she cannot get. Disgusting, really."
"I want to know more about this place," Quirrell reminded him. "It's…rather off-putting."
"This is where Death lives," Horvath began. "Oh, don't look at me like that. This isn't the Underworld. Haven't you read anything? Death only takes the souls there. Whatever happens after that is in the hands of completely different gods. The city is actually fairly new to this world. It used to be a lot smaller. Just a black and white house called Mon Repos, if I remember correctly. Everything was black and white. Death preferred it that way, before he started having to make a decent world out of his domain."
"I'd heard that Death was a woman," Quirrell interrupted. "That is to say…at least how she appeared in the story of the Peverells…though I could be wrong…"
"She is a woman," Horvath replied. "And a man. It all depends on who's looking. Everything changed for Death here after he had to turn this world into a place to lock away one of the Old Ones. I doubt it was the same Old One as what brought you back."
"So there are more of…that."
"Many more. Compared to what exists in the multiverse, we sorcerers are mere insects. Imagine how low that makes the nonmagical."
"So this place," Quirrell concluded, "is everything Lord Voldemort fears…"
"Correct. Death is his eternal enemy."
"How did he make an ally here?"
"By looking for the sorcerer in Death's Domain that had the most to gain out of harming Death."
"That makes sense. Still, it's strange to see him so…uncomfortable."
"If he were put off by discomfort," Horvath sneered, "he wouldn't have begun what he began. If you're put off by discomfort, you'd best leave now, bodily sacrifice notwithstanding."
"I'm not uncomfortable," Quirrell asserted. "Lord Voldemort is."
"And why do you care?"
"That is enough," Voldemort said, turning to face both Horvath and Quirrell. "I would prefer that we do what we came here to do with as little discussion of…that…as possible." His eyes flickered briefly to the great city that had been situated atop the resting place of the Old One, the city that belonged to the final enemy Voldemort wished to conquer. Someday, he vowed, he would. Death was too strong to attack directly, even after all that had happened with that Old One…but it was only a matter of time. It was funny, Voldemort thought, that the Old One Death had vowed to seal within Death City, below the great castle that had been built up from Mon Repos in order to house humans of conventional mindsets, might have been related to the Old One that had manipulated the Resurrection Stone. The two definitely weren't the same. Medusa had reported on the Old One within Death's Domain. It couldn't have been more dissimilar.
"I was only remarking," Quirrell said, "that you seemed—"
"Are you doubting my capability to lead?" Voldemort asked Quirrell sternly.
"No," Quirrell said softly.
"Then I shall ask you to be silent." Voldemort turned to resume walking, his thoughts scattered. Though he'd been able to come up with a simple enough response, Quirrell's sentiment had caught him off guard. If what he had expressed wasn't really doubt, which was likely, it must have been concern. Why should he show concern? He'd only been a pawn in the past. A valuable pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. And amongst the ranks of Death Eaters, concern was a rare commodity…and caring seen as a weakness. Surely Quirrell knew that, Voldemort pondered. But then again, if it was concern—a protective urge—who was Voldemort to look a gift horse in the mouth?
"I don't doubt you," Bellatrix began, interrupting Voldemort's train of thought. "I never did, you see. I always knew—"
"I shall ask you to be silent as well," Voldemort hissed at her.
Bellatrix crossed her arms and pouted as the group walked on.
Voldemort forced his thoughts away from Quirrell, thinking upon the irony. All this, this city, the reformation of this world, Death had built in response to the Old One. First he (or she, for as Horvath had pointed out, it was all based on who was looking) had acted out of fear that such an Old One would rise, gathering warriors of repute, and then he had acted in response to his own allies becoming Old Ones…and one of the very sort Death had feared the rise of. An anti-Death, if one will. And finally, after Death's Domain had lost the purity of its black-and-white solitude, transforming entirely into this disorganized civilization of mortal vice and virtue alike, all for the sake of keeping the Old One trapped…that Old One, Asura, had broken free. And for that reason, though Asura was just as dangerous as Death even to those who admired him and spat at the name of Death, Asura remained out of the corner of Voldemort's mental eye, an option especially prominent in the absence of Morgana le Fay.
The name of Morgana le Fay was—and is—known across many worlds, and held—and holds—the appeal of millions of followers, even if not all Morganians were united and many were even at odds. A large percentage of dark witches and wizards pledged allegiance, even worship, to her name, and dedicated themselves to following her path. Morganians were not a united faction, but they were a network spread across the cosmos. This network passed information, and anything that could possibly be of importance to the business of a Morganian did not go unnoticed. In this way, through careful inquiry, a Morganian could easily obtain most desired information by mining through gossip.
Voldemort, Horvath, Bellatrix, and Quirrell found themselves in a town outside Death City, separated from it by a stunning strip of featureless desert but still within Death City's shadow enough that Voldemort's anxiousness was still visible. Here, they asked around, gingerly until they knew they were speaking to trusted sources. It began with a bookshop owner with a casual interest in magic. That led them to a sympathizer to witch concerns who dealt in alleys. From there, actual witches were found, witches who hadn't a clue of where Medusa was but had seen her at this place at that time, and knew who else had been there at the moment. Eventually, gossip pinpointed Medusa's exact location, and the four Death Eaters made their way there. No matter how she tried to hide from existence—as it was clear she was trying to do—Medusa could not escape the Morganian information trade.
They found her in a cellar, albeit a well-furnished one. The walls were black and lined with shelves that contained flasks of black liquid. The tables were laid out with laboratory equipment including syringes. Medusa herself sat in an armchair, looking over a book. She flicked her eyes upward when the four marched into her domain.
"I should have known you would find me," she said coldly without a hint of surprise. Then she grinned.
"I had thought you dead," Voldemort began.
"He seems to be thinking that of most of his associates as of late," Horvath added.
"How is it that you never seem to stay dead when killed?" Voldemort inquired. He looked Medusa up and down. When the two had first met, she had been blonde, keeping her hair bound in a braid that trailed down the front of her chest. She was partial to wearing a hooded black dress, the sleeves removed to show off the polka dots on her arms that formed into a pointillism tattoo of a constricting snake. Now her hair was black, a consequence of having assimilated someone else's body. It was still twisted into its usual braid. Medusa's new wardrobe was a somewhat more seductively cut black dress, purloined from the same person who'd given her the black hair, with no hood, but her arms were still bare and still held the polka-dot patterns of the snake.
"I have secrets," Medusa replied. "You well know this."
"And yet, knowing of my goals," Voldemort said, ice creeping into his tone, "you refuse to share them with me."
"It is not a method in which you could take part anyway."
"How do I know you are not lying?"
"What use would it be for me to betray your trust now?"
"Has their relationship always been this way?" Quirrell whispered to Bellatrix.
"It's what happens when two big egos clash," Bellatrix responded.
"The kishin Asura," Voldemort said simply.
"A setback," Medusa replied. "Death's little soldiers got in the way. And your projects? The war on Hogwarts?" Her eyes flicked over to Horvath. "The Rising?"
"Each of us was stopped by meddling forces," Horvath answered. "Of course, we do not need le Fay to—"
Medusa laughed. "You, claiming le Fay is unnecessary. Going against all that we have stood for, denouncing the woman who gave all of us our inspiration…did she break your fragile heart?"
"That will be enough accusation," Horvath snarled, gripping his cane more tightly.
Medusa stood. "Do you mean to use that against me?" At first, the shapes that emerged from her back seemed like shadows, but soon it became clear that they were black arrows—manifestations of the magic she controlled.
"You might want to step back," Bellatrix told Quirrell. "If these three start fighting, we can say goodbye to our second chance at life."
"ENOUGH," Voldemort told Medusa and Horvath. "There is no use in quarrelling. All three of our efforts have failed. Hogwarts stands, and remains in balance between the pure and the impure. The only force powerful enough to destroy Death is no longer an option for us. The sorceress that inspired us and could have overturned all our deaths is also out of the picture. It is clear that we must rise again. I plan to lead us to a future where all of what has happened can be reversed."
"Lead?" Medusa laughed. "You were never able to lead me, and you aren't able to lead me now. What is your plan? To waste our time on building your Horcruxes once more?"
"Not all of us can be so fortunate as to return from the dead of our own volition," Voldemort replied, careful not to show his anger. He knew that Medusa was a match for him, and engaging her in combat would be a step backward in his goals.
"You never said how it is that you are alive," Medusa pointed out.
"There was an Old One," Voldemort answered. "Not the kishin…something more…shall we say, playful."
"Playful?" Medusa's brow raised. "That describes none of the Old Ones I have ever met. What else was he like?"
"He took the form of a draconequuus. He was able to manipulate the Resurrection Stone so that it reversed death permanently. He took the stone with him after assembling my team the way he wished it."
"I look forward to meeting him," Medusa stated. There was no room to doubt that she would find this strange draconequus eventually.
"Then shall we come to a compromise?" Voldemort asked. "Neither of us shall assume the position of 'leader'…and instead, we shall join forces to reach our goals together." This was a blatant lie. No matter what Medusa said, Voldemort knew he would be in charge.
"I could tolerate that," Medusa said. This was also a blatant lie. No matter what Voldemort did, Medusa would find a way to pull the strings.
"I do intend to seek Horcruxes," Voldemort told her. "What would you have us do in your name in exchange?"
"Nothing," Medusa said. "Once you are as immortal as I am, that will be all we need." This was also a blatant lie. Now that Medusa saw the benefit in betraying Voldemort's trust, she was going to take advantage of it. Her own plans formulated.
"Have you anyone to bring to our faction? Eruka, perhaps? Free?"
"I would rather see neither ever again. They were useful…and their usefulness has run out."
"You're all right with this?" Bellatrix asked Horvath. "The two of them claiming leadership?"
"To argue would be to invite death," Horvath replied. "And I am not as concerned with leadership as they are."
Voldemort and Medusa approached each other, clasping right hands. "Then it is done," Medusa said. "We will work together again. Where are we making our base?"
"On Fourth Earth, at Riddle House," Voldemort answered. "We have yet to determine bases in Fifth Earth or Death's Domain if at all."
"I shall meet you there," Medusa said.
"What reason do you have for waiting?" Voldemort asked with suspicion. "Why can you not merely travel with us?"
"It would take me a while to pack my belongings," Medusa said. "After all, unlike Horvath, I have an established life on my world."
Horvath chose not to respond. She had chosen a poor way to attempt to aggravate him, and he knew that was all she was trying to do—aggravate him.
"Can't we just hurry it along?" Bellatrix asked. "We've got more to do before we can start setting up plans!"
"Then I shall let you…gather your belongings," Voldemort told Medusa. "But I would ask you to remember the consequences of betraying me."
"I know them well," Medusa said with a grin. "You have no need to worry about me."
"Then I shall see you at Riddle House."
"Indeed."
Voldemort turned to Bellatrix, Quirrell, and Horvath. "We must return," he told them. "There is much yet to be done."
"But what else could we possibly do?" Quirrell asked.
"Implementation of failsafes," Voldemort said before the four arranged into position for Apparition. They disappeared from Medusa's view, having most likely gone back to Fourth Earth.
First, Medusa considered her own failsafe. It came up from inside her body, up her throat, and she slid it about on her tongue before opening her mouth to take it and hold it in her hand. She had never been an ordinary witch—not by the standards of Fourth or Fifth Earth, and not even by the standards of the witches of Death's Domain. Neither of her sisters had either. And it was all due to this. A black sphere, the size of a marble shooter, with the design of a snake curling around it. A long needle-like protrusion stuck out from one end, and Medusa balanced it on her fingertip for a while. It had yet to fail her, and since she had absorbed the body of her sister Arachne, she had another one safely inside her in case this one was destroyed…her own version of Horcruxes.
She swallowed the black sphere again, keeping it safe. She then set about packing. It was true enough that she wanted Voldemort and his Death Eaters on her side. As a league, they would be strong enough to help her with her plans. She also had strong interests in domination of Hogwarts and in the Rising, which she did not yet believe a lost cause. And it was true that she had special plans for them, plans they couldn't possibly be aware of. However, she regarded the hunt for Horcruxes as a waste of time, a wild goose chase. It would simply divert Voldemort long enough that he wouldn't notice her actions until it was too late. At that point, though, he might just thank her, if all went well. As it was still only an experiment, that was a rather large "if".
This was why Medusa took a satchel filled with several phials of the black liquid on her shelves. In a special case, she locked away a syringe. This is what she hadn't wanted the others to see. They'd learn soon enough, anyway.
HOGWARTS, FOURTH EARTH
By the time the Hogwarts Express reached its destination, the sky had gone completely dark. The train pulled into a halt, and Twilight could only say, "Well…here we go."
The six left the train to meet a crowd of students disembarking the train and moving about every which way. Throughout the tumult, a gruff and very loud voice was heard barking out: "Firs' years this way! Firs' years this way!"
"I guess we go that way," Applejack said before leading her friends in the direction of the voice.
The calling out led them down to the lake, where many preteens dressed in black robes were getting onto small boats as directed by a very large man—about eleven and a half feet tall, and proportionately wide. His hair and beard were black and shaggy, making him appear even larger and more imposing. Every now and then, he would take a break from directing students into boats in order to call out, "Firs' years this way!"
"Excuse me," Twilight said, walking up to the man, "we're first years…technically…and I was wondering—"
"Oh, you must be the Elements o' Harmony!" the man said gladly. "McGonagall told me all about you."
"All…?" Twilight replied.
The man winked. "Jus' enough that I know why you're here. It might seem unconventional, but I don't put too much stock in convention nowadays. Name's Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts and Professor of Care of Magical Creatures. You won't be needin' that course this year, though. I'm hopin' to see you around the grounds. But in the meantime, welcome to Hogwarts!" He gestured to one of the small boats. "Go on an' get inside. They know where they're goin'."
"Thank you!" the six chorused happily before getting into one of the boats. The boat shuddered, then moved away from the coast of its own accord, heading out across the lake and toward Hogwarts castle, whose windows were lit up brightly against the night.
"He seemed nice," Applejack commented. "I wouldn't mind seein' more of him around."
"He said he was a professor of classes about magical creatures," Fluttershy pointed out. "I hope that means he cares about animals."
"I'm sure it does," Twilight pointed out. "I mean, why would you teach a whole class on them if you didn't care?"
As the boat passed between other boats of first years, snippets of conversation could be heard:
"That man was huge! You don't suppose he's a giant, do you?"
"Look at that boat…what are centaurs doing here? I thought they never left the Forbidden Forest…"
"What is THAT?"
Enough of the last statement caused the six to look up at what was causing so much chatter. The Starlight was still anchored in the lake, next to the castle. Students were taking notice of its presence.
The small boats reached the other side, and everyone disembarked to get up on the bank next to the castle. Hagrid had also crossed on his own boat, and moved to the front of the crowd to guide them into the castle. The other students all seemed to have disappeared.
The trek to the castle doors from the banks of the lake seemed much different at night than it did during the day, as though it were a completely different castle in a completely different landscape. Even crossing the threshold of the great wooden doors, after Hagrid knocked three times and they opened of their own accord, seemed alien to the Equestrians. They filtered into the atrium along with the other students, past the great hourglasses, and toward another set of great wooden doors. Hagrid knocked again, and these doors also opened. Beyond them, it was suddenly visible where the rest of the student body had gone.
The Great Hall seemed impossibly large. This was only bolstered by the fact that the ceiling appeared to phase into the sky—it wasn't clear where the ceiling ended and the sky began, but looking directly up gave a view of a slightly clouded, star-studded blackness and a bright white moon.
"I was hoping you'd all appreciate that enchantment," Hagrid said to the six Equestrians specifically.
"It's…gorgeous," Twilight said almost breathlessly.
Below the skylike ceiling, the hall was taken up by four tables, and black-robed students sat at all of them. The tables were set with gleaming golden flatware and goblets. Looking down the center aisle, the group of first-years saw the faculty table, where McGonagall sat at the place of honor in the center. McGonagall, upon seeing the students gather, rose from her seat.
"You'll wait here," Hagrid explained, "until you're called up by alphabetical order. Then the Sortin' Hat picks yer house for yeh."
"In front of everyone?" Fluttershy whimpered.
By this time, McGonagall had already placed an old, weather-beaten, pointed hat upon a stool before the faculty table. "Get ready now," Hagrid said. "It's about to do its song."
"A song!" Pinkie cried happily.
And, lo and behold, the hat shifted of its own accord, and one of the creases in it formed a mouthlike feature from which its song came. Thus, it sang:
"When I was young and barely sewn,
A Sorting-Hat-to-Be,
Godric took and set me down
And this he said to me:
'Hat, we've had our troubles,
But our troubles will be through.
I've fought so hard and I've made sure
They shall not trouble you!'
And so I took my post here,
As Sorting Hat most proud,
And thus I used the founders four
To separate the crowd.
For Hufflepuff, the kindest ones
Were chosen to be gold;
For Gryffindor, the crimson
Was bequeathed upon the bold.
For Slytherin, ambitious ones
Were given to the green,
And Ravenclaw's most brilliant blue
To the smartest ones I've seen.
Yes, I missed the founders,
But as they went, others came,
And though they all were different
Every friendship felt the same.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald
Once graced this very hall.
There then came the Marauders four;
And I sorted them all!
And even once, so way back when,
I must admit it's true,
I gave my blessing and my sorting
Both to You-Know-Who.
Darkness fell when those I sorted
Chose it as their way.
But others still I sorted
Chose a path as bright as day.
One night, it became clear to me
That Gryffindor had lied.
He had not vanquished trouble.
The poor man had only tried.
But trouble does not come alone,
And that's what makes me smile.
For friendship and adventure
Were returning all the while!
And so remember, when you think
The battle has been won:
It may be that the worst and best
Have only just begun!"
After that, a silence fell over the Great Hall. No one knew quite what to make of the Hat's song.
"Um…did I miss something?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"The Sortin' Hat always makes up its own songs," Hagrid said softly. "They're different every year. And they're always about what it thinks we should be thinkin' about. Pretty sure that after we won the war, the last thing anyone wants to hear is that isn't really over."
McGonagall stood by the hat, speaking in a way that was such enchanted that her voice filled the enormous Hall. "Speculation is all fine and good in its time and place," she said, "but with no evidence, at this point, it will just lead to unnecessary worry and unpleasant gossip. If you must fixate on anything the Hat has said here, please remember that it also said the best has just begun, and that with bad comes good. And with that, I do not wish to hear this turned into any ugly rumors! Now, we shall commence the Sorting."
"And we're already off to a great start," Twilight sighed sarcastically.
McGonagall began to read off a list of names: "Aardman, Veronica." One of the first years, upon hearing her name called, rushed to the front of the Hall. She set the Hat upon her head and sat upon the stool; it considered her for a brief moment before yelling out, "RAVENCLAW!"
Immediately, one of the tables burst into applause as Veronica joined them. This was evidently the Ravenclaw table.
Soon enough, the call rang out: "Apple, Applejack." Applejack began her walk down the Hall, and as with the boats, she heard several confused whispers:
"Who is that?"
"Isn't she a little old to be a first-year?"
"Is she…is she a centaur?"
"What's she doing outside the Forbidden Forest?"
"Has the entire staff gone barmy?"
Ignoring them all, Applejack made her way to the stool, picking up the hat and placing it on her head before sitting on the stool. Her friends watched her from the other end of the hall. They observed as the hat sat there, perfectly still, for a while. Then, clear as a bell, it yelled out, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Applejack laid down the hat and moved to the table that had burst into applause. Ironically, as soon as she sat down among the other Gryffindors, she found that attention was not focused on her. Everyone seemed to care more about another student sitting down at the other end of the table: a young woman with bushy, somewhat unkempt brown hair and a straight posture that indicated a level of high professionalism.
Seats were switched around; a redheaded student moved so that she could sit across from Applejack. "Hey," Applejack said, "I know you. Ginny Weasley, right?"
"And you're Applejack from Madam Malkin's," Ginny replied with a broad smile. "So, how does it feel to be part of the student body?"
"Weird," Applejack admitted. "Everypony here—"
"I'm sorry, 'everypony'?"
"Uh…sayin' from the Forbidden Forest."
"I see!"
"Well, everypony knows I'm not your usual kinda student, and I think they're hung up on that."
"Well, don't listen," Ginny advised. "Everyone here should know better than to gossip or be surprised at unconventional things by now. Goodness knows enough has happened."
"So what's the deal with—"
Before Applejack could finish her question, she heard the call ring out for "Dash, Rainbow!" "Uhh…hang on a second. I gotta watch this," Applejack told Ginny. The pair turned their attention to Rainbow Dash.
The hat only sat on Rainbow Dash's head for about five seconds before calling out "GRYFFINDOR!"
"YES!" Rainbow Dash rushed to sit by Applejack. "This is officially the cool house!"
"Two of us made Gryffindor," Applejack observed. "Not a bad start."
"Maybe we'll all luck out and get in the same house!" Rainbow Dash theorized.
"Ain't likely," Applejack reminded her. "Courage is our strong suit, but I don't know about theirs."
"Oh," Rainbow Dash said, suddenly realizing who she sat across from. "Hi, Ginny! What's up?"
"And before you answer," Applejack interrupted, "I wanna ask that you include what's makin' everypony all hyped up about that mare—uh, that woman over there."
"That's Hermione Granger," Ginny explained. "She was a hero in the war, especially in the battle here last year. She was supposed to be a seventh year then. McGonagall said that she, Harry, and Ron didn't have to finish finals because of their actions, but Hermione insisted on coming back! Luna and I didn't even know! We were all good friends, you see."
"Harry as in Harry Potter?" Applejack asked.
Ginny nodded. "And Ron as in my brother."
"How many brothers you got?" Applejack teased.
"Six," Ginny answered. "I know, you're either astonished or you think it's funny…"
"Naw," Applejack replied. "I come from a big family myself. Though I got more cousins than siblings."
"You should probably go sit by Hermione and catch up," Rainbow Dash told Ginny.
"Well, you should meet her too," Ginny said. "I know she'll be interested in meeting both of you. Come on!" She rose, and Applejack and Rainbow Dash followed her.
The three sat down in a row, finding room in the crowd gathered around Hermione. "Oh, Ginny," Hermione remarked gladly, "you're back!"
"I ran into some friends I met at Diagon Alley," Ginny explained. "Applejack and Rainbow."
"Are you Kentaurides?" Hermione asked them—not derisively, but genuinely curiously.
"Yeah," Rainbow Dash answered. "We're here under special circumstances."
"Me too," Hermione said with a smile.
"We decided to come see what things were like outside of the Forbidden Forest," Applejack told Hermione.
"Well, I hope you can learn everything you were hoping to," Hermione replied. "I've always wondered what things were like in the Forbidden Forest, myself—"
Applejack and Rainbow Dash exchanged nervous glances, sure she was going to ask about their lives in the forest they knew nothing about.
"—but I know it's a private subject, so you don't have to answer anything."
"Maybe we'll let you in on some stuff later," Rainbow Dash said. "Kind of a…rain check."
"Perfectly understandable." Hermione nodded. "I take it you're first years because that's where your magic level is. Oh, I didn't mean that as a bad thing…it came out rather wrong. I'm not saying you're not skilled; what I'm saying is—"
"No, you're right," Applejack answered. "We don't know that much about magic at all."
At this point, the list of names came down to "Majesty, Rarity!" Applejack and Rainbow Dash turned to watch Rarity's sorting expectantly.
Rarity lowered the hat upon her head, thinking about how it was quite an ugly thing, even though it certainly meant well enough, and could do with some patching.
I think I am quite fine as I am, the hat said within Rarity's head.
Startled, Rarity nearly fell off the stool.
I have an idea where you should go, the hat said. I see your dreams. Your goals. You wish to give to everyone, but you want what you give to be unique and carry your mark. You want to know everyone's name, and you want everyone to know yours. Yes, I know where you belong…but before I choose, I want to know where you think you belong.
Well, Rarity replied in her thoughts, I'm certain that wherever you choose for me will be just perfect.
Are you sure, the hat asked, that is your answer?
Well, yes, Rarity replied stubbornly. Why would I want to change it? I know I'm good enough to be wherever you place me!
In that case, the hat said, I'll stand by my first decision, and you'll be right at home in…"SLYTHERIN!"
"WHAT?" Rarity shrieked, nearly falling off the stool.
"You gave me full judgment," the hat said quietly.
"WELL, I DIDN'T THINK YOU WERE GOING TO PUT ME THERE!" Rarity yelled, shaking the hat.
"Miss Majesty," McGonagall ordered, "if you would please take your seat!"
Rarity put down the hat and stormed toward the Slytherin table, where everyone was cheering the addition of a new arrival, even if they didn't quite understand why she was there. "Whyyyyyy?" she moaned to herself. "Why do I have to be in the evil house?" She slammed her head down on the table and refused to lift it.
"Pie, Pinkie!" At this, Pinkie hopped up the center aisle, springing off all four legs. She eagerly put on the hat, and the hat made a few contorted faces before yelling out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
"ALL RIGHT!" Pinkie cried out. "GO HUFFLEPUFF!" She ran, cheering all the way to the Hufflepuff table.
When "Posey, Fluttershy" was called out, Fluttershy slowly, gingerly made her way up to the Sorting Hat. She placed it on her head ever so lightly. It didn't take long for the hat to proclaim her a "HUFFLEPUFF!"
At this, Pinkie leapt up and down in glee, hugging Fluttershy as the latter joined the table. "THIS IS GONNA BE SO AWESOME!" she squealed.
It then came down to "Sparkle, Twilight!"
"Here goes nothing," Twilight breathed.
"I bet it's Ravenclaw," Rainbow Dash whispered to Applejack, Ginny, and Hermione. "She's all about reading and doing smart stuff!"
"But so's Hermione," Ginny replied, "and she's here in Gryffindor."
"I was considered for Ravenclaw," Hermione admitted, "but now that I'm here, I know the Sorting Hat made the right decision."
"What if she's in Slytherin?" Applejack asked. "I mean, Rarity already is…Slytherin can't be all bad, can it?"
"Not all bad," Ginny parroted, though not convincingly.
The hat took its sweet time with Twilight, going over all her thoughts. You know, it said, you have a little bit of everything in you. You have quite the ambition when it comes to your studies…ambition that would fit very well in Slytherin.
Okay, Twilight replied in thought. So…am I a Slytherin?
I wasn't finished, the hat said rather crossly. You also have devoted most of your life to your friends and preserving your relationship with them. Definitely something Helga Hufflepuff would value.
All right, Twilight thought.
But then again, the hat continued, you have taken the lead in a great many adventures…yes, I can see that well enough. I know the stories you aren't telling the others here. And you've shown a great deal of courage, worthy of Gryffindor.
So…does that mean…Twilight wondered.
But most of all, the hat concluded, you thirst for learning and knowledge. Yes, given the dilemma, you would save a friend's life rather than stop a book from being burned, but deep within you, your greatest desires are to learn more. And you hope that your time here will further that exact desire. Yes, I know now…you are most definitely suited for "RAVENCLAW!"
Twilight got down off the stool amid clapping and cheering from the Ravenclaw table. She took a seat next to Luna Lovegood, who awaited her with a smile.
"I'm so glad you've joined us," Luna said in her usual dreamy tone. "You'll learn everything here, from how to solve riddles to how to proof your things from Nargles."
Twilight didn't ask whether or not Nargles were real. She simply smiled. "Thanks, Luna. I'm glad to be here."
The Sorting wrapped up when the last name was called. For the first few times she was summoned, "Way, Ebony" didn't come into view. Then a rather gruff-looking, gray-haired man in a shabby cloak stormed up the center aisle, followed by a tabby cat wearing a tiny blue bonnet and little silver spectacles that hooked up behind her ears.
"Miss Way," he growled, "is refusing to adhere to the dress code of Hogwarts. She's not allowed in until she removes her ridiculous attire and puts on a robe. If they're good enough for everyone else, they're good enough for her! Now, if Dolores Umbridge was still running this school, I'd have her in the rack right now—"
"But she isn't, Mr. Filch," McGonagall reminded him sharply, "and I will not have any of my students subjected to torture. Especially your method of torture."
"Um…who's that?" Twilight asked Luna.
"Argus Filch," Luna replied. "He's the caretaker, and he's also in charge of discipline. He isn't exactly the most fair. You'll also want to watch out for the cat, Mrs. Norris. They can communicate."
At last, Ebony Way turned up, though she still wasn't wearing a uniform, instead wearing a black tee with the words "The Promise Ring" scrawled across it, along with several other flamboyant black accessories too numerous to detail. "Ughhh!" she yelled so the whole hall could hear. "What is the deal with you all and your preppy robes anyway?"
The Sorting Hat pronounced her a Slytherin, and Rarity saw no reason to lift her head from the table.
At that, the Sorting Hat was removed, and the ceremony over. "Before we begin the start-of-term feast," McGonagall said, standing at her seat, "I have a few announcements to make. I regret that my opening words will not be quite as…unique…as those of fondly remembered past headmasters. In any case, there are a few things you must all know this year.
"First of all, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has once again been filled, and given recent events, hopefully, he will last longer than those who previously occupied the position. May I introduce Ermond Ricksmith."
Ricksmith, a rather unremarkable-looking wizard who appeared to be around thirty, stood and gave a slight bow. "I promise to give this position my all," he said before sitting back down.
"Thank you, Ricksmith," McGonagall said. "On the same note, as I am now acting headmistress, the role of Transfiguration professor has also been filled—by Felina Grintcliffe."
Felina, a gray-haired witch with many lines upon her face, simply gave the Great Hall a nod.
"Second," McGonagall continued, "you may have heard rumors or noticed that a certain student has returned to Hogwarts to complete her final year—even though I have maintained that she is exempt from having to do so, given her past actions. I hope you will all make Hermione Granger feel as welcome this year as you have in the past."
Before McGonagall could finish the sentence, the entire Great Hall burst into upbeat applause, complete with cheering and whistling.
"What the hay did you DO?" Rainbow Dash asked Hermione with a wink.
"It's a long story," Hermione replied. "Believe me."
When the Hall settled down, McGonagall began again. "Third, some other rather unorthodox students have become enrolled at this school. Applejack Apple, Rainbow Dash, Rarity Majesty, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy Posey, and Twilight Sparkle have been initiated as first-years, and despite their age, they will be educated as first-years. I expect you all to treat them as you would any fellow student."
"That's nice!" Pinkie said to Fluttershy. "I'm glad she's—"
"It is also vital for you to know," McGonagall went on, "that they represent the Elements of Harmony, and are in their own right heroes. Draw from this whatever conclusions you will, but I will not put up with any mistreatment directed toward them regarding their origin."
A hush fell over the Hall as most of the students tried to figure out exactly what that meant. Twilight was practically horror-stricken, as McGonagall had basically alluded to their interdimensional travels without explicitly stating such.
"Elements of Harmony," Hermione muttered. "I feel as though I've read that somewhere, but I can't quite remember…well, aside from that. Headmistress McGonagall referred to you as heroes."
"That's also a long story," Applejack said. "Maybe we'll tell you some about it…later."
"And with that," McGonagall said, "I think this year, it is time to re-instate the tradition of singing the Hogwarts school song. The tune, as usual, is up to you." She raised her wand, firing a gold ribbon from it into the air. The ribbon twisted until it formed a set of floating lyrics. Everyone then took off singing, each at a different pace, but none were so loud or so fast as Pinkie Pie:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please!
Whether we be old and bald,
Or young with scabby knees!"
She carried on until the very last word, which she held out long enough ("And learn until our brains all ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!") that everyone else could catch up and finish the song.
"Let the feast," McGonagall then announced, "begin!"
The plates and goblets filled up with extravagant food of all sorts, from soups to roast meats to complex side dishes. All four tables dug in with gusto.
Rarity felt a bread roll hit her on the side of the head. "Are you just going to stay like that all day?" a voice asked her.
Rarity lifted her head to view a set of identical twin girls with dark hair sitting before her. "You don't understand," she said. "I wasn't meant to be a Slytherin!"
"The Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes," said the girl who'd thrown the bread roll.
"And not everyone in this house is as evil as you'd think," said the other. "Bloodlines notwithstanding. I'd prefer you remember that."
"But what Slytherins were ever actually good?" Rarity whined. "And what does this say about ME? Oh, of all the worst things that could happen, this is THE! WORST!—"
"There was Severus Snape," said the girl who'd thrown the bread roll. "He did sacrifice his life in the war for Hogwarts. And he played double agent between here and Voldemort's Death Eaters."
"I didn't think anyone said that name," Rarity pointed out.
"Our parents were his followers," the second twin said grumpily. "We got used to it. But before you get any ideas, nobody ever asked us what WE thought of the whole deal. WE never wanted any part of Voldemort's plans. And who was more ashamed than US when our parents turned up to torture students during the takeover?"
"I'm sorry," Rarity said sympathetically. "That must be difficult."
"Almost impossible to live down," the second twin said coldly.
"Well, I'm not about to judge you on that," Rarity said, "though if either of you attempts to torture me, we may run into a problem."
"We've got no interest in torture," the first twin said. "Just in keeping our noses clean."
"Well…since this is the house of ambition," Rarity said, "what else do you want?"
"To accomplish something great without living in the shadow of either of our parents," the second twin answered. "And something that doesn't involve murder, torment, or bigotry. Someday, people are going to look at us and think of us for what we are and not what our parents did."
"It's already sort of happened with you," the first twin pointed out. "After all, you are Prefect."
"I'm sure you'll be able to do it," Rarity said with a nod. "All you need to figure out is what you want to be remembered for—your destiny, if you will. I just realized, I never caught your names."
"Flora Carrow," said the first twin.
"Hestia Carrow," said the second, the one who was Prefect. "You were Rarity Majesty, correct?"
"Yes."
"Well, welcome to Slytherin," Hestia said, a smile cracking her face for the first time.
RIDDLE HOUSE, FOURTH EARTH
"Can you believe it?" Pettigrew moaned, pacing back and forth. "That frail twig of a man gets chosen, and I get left behind because of ONE MOMENT of weakness? And what else was I supposed to do? They saved my life! It doesn't weigh in against all I've done for the Dark Lord! I brought him back to physical form! I GAVE MY RIGHT HAND FOR—"
"No one cares," Scabior snorted. He'd pulled Pettigrew aside to have a discussion, and hadn't expected Pettigrew to just begin railing on his rank situation again.
"All right, then," Pettigrew groaned, "what was it YOU had to say?"
"It's about what that dragon creature said when he brought us back," Scabior answered. "That we wouldn't WANT Snape or the Malfoys? Well, there's nothing we can do about Snape now. He's dead. Voldemort killed him himself. But did YOU ever hear whether or not the Malfoys died with us? Did YOU ever hear of any of them being punished? And why don't we want them with us after all the work THEY did? Something's fishy to me about all this."
"I hadn't given it much thought, and I don't much care," Pettigrew snorted. "If Lucius were here, he'd probably be ranked above me too. Prissy pretty boy—"
"So you want to know what happened to the Malfoys, do you?"
Scabior and Pettigrew turned to face the doorway, where the young Vincent Crabbe had entered the room. "I'll tell you what happened to them," Crabbe sneered. "Traitors, all of them. Draco was a sniveling coward to the very end. I was in the Room of Requirement with him when we found Potter. He kept trying to talk me out of killing Potter's little friends. He and his family were already cowards. Slipping out of grace."
"Think about it," Scabior added. "We thought we'd won once Potter was good and dead, but as it turns out, he was alive and kicking the whole time. And who reported to us that he was dead to begin with? Narcissa. Lying bitch."
"But…our meetings at Malfoy Manor," Pettigrew pointed out. "And Draco was almost the one that killed Dumbledore!"
"'Almost' for a reason," Crabbe snapped. "You really think that little git could go through with it?"
"And here I thought you were his friend," Scabior taunted Crabbe with a grin.
"I was, back when I thought he had something resembling a spine," Crabbe replied coldly.
"Well, then, it's obvious what we have to do, isn't it?" A grin slowly crawled across Pettigrew's face. "We should track down Lucius and pay him a little…visit. See if he really was on our side, or if he was a bloody traitor. And either way, it might be nice to…" Pettigrew drew his wand, tapping it into his hand meaningfully. "Eliminate the competition…"
"You worry about your little power grab on your own time," Scabior spat. "If Lucius is with us, then he should, in fact, be with us. But I've got a feeling he deserves just as much punishment as you want to dole out to him."
"Then shall we?" Pettigrew asked, raising an eyebrow. "Crabbe?"
"I've got better things to do than risk blowing our cover on a revenge mission," Crabbe snorted.
"Or you're afraid," Scabior challenged. "But it isn't as if we need you."
"We'll let you know how your little friend is getting on, we promise," Pettigrew added. "Right up to the moment when we kill him."
"If necessary," Scabior growled.
Then the two Apparated away.
Voldemort, Bellatrix, Quirrell, and Horvath appeared in the atrium. "Welcome back," Rowle greeted. "Mister Horvath."
Horvath nodded. "Rowle." As a second wizard entered the room, he nodded towards him too: "Macnair."
"My lord," Macnair said, "Pettigrew and Scabior have—I thought you were bringing back Gorgon?"
"She will be along," Voldemort answered. "What have Pettigrew and Scabior done?"
"Left to find Lucius Malfoy, as Crabbe's son reports it," Macnair finished. "Surely you can't—"
"Trust Pettigrew not to fail? Of course not. But Scabior is another matter. He'll keep him in line," Voldemort said. "Besides…I'm rather curious to see what they bring back as to news about the Malfoys…I had long suspected Lucius of being on the verge of turning on us, but I was never quite sure. If he did indeed abandon us…then retribution will be necessary."
"Of course, my lord," Macnair said before bowing and leaving the room.
"Has anything else noteworthy happened in our absence?" Voldemort asked Rowle.
"No, of course not," Rowle answered. "I—oh, Miss Gorgon!"
All heads turned to see the Apparition of Medusa, carrying her black case. "You," she replied—she'd never bothered with learning the names of those she deemed unimportant.
"Then are we gathered?" Rowle asked.
"Not quite yet," Voldemort replied. "There are three beings yet I would seek out. It will, however, take some time to find out what has become of them and where I can find them. I would advise that you begin collecting information…immediately."
"Of course," Rowle said. "On whom?"
And Voldemort told him.
HOGWARTS, FOURTH EARTH
Gryffindor Prefect Nigel Wolpert led the members of his house up several flights of stairs. "I'd be careful," he warned first-years. "They like to change."
Rainbow Dash and Applejack stared in awe as some of the staircases shifted position at random. "No problem," Rainbow Dash said. "I could just fly over all of it."
"There's just so much…castle," Applejack found herself saying as she took in the voluminousness of the building's interior.
"We're here," Wolpert announced, standing before an oil painting, a portrait of a voluptuous woman seated in repose.
"What's the password?" the portrait asked.
"Consonantiam," Wolpert said, and the portrait swung aside. "You hear that? The current password is 'consonantiam'."
He then slipped through the passage the portrait had revealed. One by one, the other Gryffindors followed him, including Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Hermione, and Ginny.
They arrived in a spacious common room lit by a blazing hearth. Puffy-looking chairs and couches were scattered throughout the room. Alcoves branched this way and that to reveal a reading room, a restroom, and two stairways.
"You'll find your things in your rooms," Wolpert said, "pets included. Boys that way…girls that way."
"C'mon," Applejack said to Rainbow Dash. "Let's go up and check on Winona and Tank."
The two ascended the stairway to the girls' bunks, finding large beds with canopies and bedcurtains awaiting them. Their luggage was piled at the end of two beds, and Winona and Tank were kenneled there. Applejack released her dog, and Rainbow Dash also allowed her tortoise a chance to move about.
"So this is Gryffindor," Applejack remarked.
On the way to the dungeons, Rarity sighed melodramatically. She wasn't only traveling with Slytherin; she had to listen to the argument of two first-years. One was the stubborn Ebony Way from the end of the Sorting Ceremony; the other, she didn't recognize at all.
"I can't believe they're making me wear stupid robes," Ebony grumbled. "Everyone here is motherfucking preps." Rarity winced at the language.
"Are you always this much of a brat?" the other witch asked. "What was your name, Ebony Way?"
"Actually, my full name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way."
"There is no way that's your actual name."
"ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME?"
"How can I not? You're so easy to make fun of."
"Whatever. Prep. You probably listen to stupid prep music. I bet you don't even know who The Promise Ring is."
"No, but do you even know who the Weird Sisters are?"
"A bunch of preps!"
"You know, I thought you MIGHT be cool because of what you've got going on in your hair, but I was wrong." Rarity observed that this young witch had a short haircut, dark brunette with blonde highlights to contrast her tan-colored skin. She made a striking contrast to Ebony, who had paper-white skin and long, black hair that ended in a stripe of red. "Besides, Rarity has cooler hair. Hey, Rarity. How'd you get all that purple going on?"
"Please leave me out of this," Rarity grumbled.
"If we could all stop arguing," Hestia snapped, stopping before a segment of blank stone wall. "We're here." She turned to face the dark gray bricks. "Serpentine," she told the wall.
The wall obeyed the command, sliding aside. "It only opens if you know the password," Hestia informed the group as they moved into the common room.
Rarity had to admit that the room was fantastic. She had expected it to be somewhat cold and damp. Instead, while it wasn't the warmest room, it was quite clean and proper, with elegant wooden molding on the mantel and carvings of snakes on the walls. Green lamps gave the room an eerie glow; leather sofas basked in the glow.
As the students moved to the bedrooms to unpack, Rarity, deciding Opalescence could last a little longer in her kennel, flopped down onto one of the leather couches, stretching out her Kentauride body to fill the length of both cushions. There she lay, eyes closed, until she heard a voice:
"Hey. You okay?"
Rarity opened her eyes to see the witch with the brunette-and-blonde hair hovering over her. "Oh," she said, lackluster. "Hello."
"I saw you had your head down on the table after being Sorted," the witch said. "I was right after you. And now you're, well, here. So what's up?"
Rarity sighed. "Please don't take this the wrong way," she said, "but I was hoping for a somewhat different result than this."
"Oh, I get it," the girl replied. "You're freaked out because of the stories about Slytherin being evil and stuff. Well, it's not all really true. You-Know-Who had a bunch of supporters in all the houses. And Slytherin had some heroes."
"So I've heard. Snape, right?"
"Yeah. You could be like him, you know."
"I'm hoping."
"Don't let a few bad apples give Slytherin a bad name," the witch said with a grin. "We're the ones who are gonna make ourselves known, you know? And we can change what everybody thinks. Me? I'm gonna be a hero some day. Get everyone equal rights. So can you stop moping around? Also, you might want to get upstairs if that's your cat that keeps making noises like it's going to bust open its kennel and kill everybody."
Rarity flashed the witch a small smile. "I suppose." She got up off the couch. "Thank you, by the way. I'm Rarity. Rarity Majesty. And you are…?"
"Steveny Nichols," the witch replied. "Stevie, for short."
Rarity and Stevie walked upstairs to find their room. Rarity released a crabby Opalescence from her kennel, watching as the cat haughtily padded up to her pillow and lay there, and then began to organize the rest of her things. It was then that she noticed the carvings in the bedpost.
"What's this?" she wondered out loud. The other Slytherin first-year girls gathered around her to see the sets of initials carved into the bedpost: W.S., S.S., M.S., C.U., G.W., B.B., N.B., and many more.
"I guess the other girls put their initials here," Stevie guessed.
"It's vandalism, though, isn't it?" Rarity asked.
"Yeah," Stevie said with a shrug. "Still pretty cool."
"We should put ours," Ebony suggested, "so they KNOW we were here."
"Not yet," Rarity advised. "I'm guessing these initials were put here after the students made memories together. We should add our own only if we have sufficient enough of a year worth remembering."
"Got a point," Stevie said with a nod.
Looking at the carved letters, Rarity realized that she would never get to add "R.M." unless she lightened up and made the best of the situation. Perhaps the others were right. Perhaps being a Slytherin wasn't the worst possible thing. And this Snape was probably one to admire as an outstanding example of Slytherin ambition. She would have to learn more about him.
"Now," Rarity announced, "let's get our things unpacked and organized, shall we?"
Through a tunnel opened up in a large barrel in the kitchen corridor by tapping the rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff" on the side, there was a round, low-ceilinged room with a blazing hearth and windows enchanted to show views of dandelions. Copper lanterns contributed to the light. All in all, the room was comfortably warm; this was the Hufflepuff Common Room.
"ALL RIGHT!" Pinkie Pie cried, bouncing up and down around the perimeter of the room. "Time to PAR-TAY!"
"I don't know about you," Fluttershy said to Pinkie as her fellow students looked on, "but being so warm and having eaten all that food, I feel a little…" She climbed onto a yellow-and-black sofa and yawned. "Sleepy."
"Okay," Pinkie said quietly. "But tomorrow, we can really have fun, okay?"
Prefect Anthony Otterburn hobbled into the room, holding his foot. "That rabbit upstairs kicked me in the toe!" he complained.
"Yeahhhhh," Pinkie informed him, "Angel does that…"
"…and your owl will be up in the Owlery in the West Tower," Luna Lovegood explained to Twilight. "You can send messages with him if you want."
Twilight thought back to the fireplace onboard the Starlight. "I don't really have anyone here I can send messages to," she said, "and when I do need to send a letter, I can't get it where it needs to go by owl."
The Ravenclaws climbed the spiral stairway until they came upon a stretch of wall upon which there was a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. The Prefect reached out to take hold of it, knocking thrice.
"You have to answer a riddle to get in," Luna whispered to Twilight; Twilight's face immediately lit up.
"What goes around the world," the eagle asked the Ravenclaws, "but stays in a corner?"
"A STAMP!" Twilight screamed; all turned to look at her. "Um…sorry. I just really like riddles…"
"Correct," the eagle said, and the wall slid aside.
"Can I have another one?" Twilight asked.
"You should probably wait until the next time you have to come into the common room," Luna advised her. "I remember when I first came here. I had the knocker ask me riddles all day. The others eventually pushed me out of the way so they could get to the door."
"I see." Twilight nodded sheepishly.
Twilight then gasped at the appearance of the room upon entering it. The entire common room was blue, with stars painted on the ceiling. Arched, Gothic windows provided a portal to seeing outdoors. Bookshelves lined the walls.
"It's…perfect!" Twilight squealed.
As most moved to organize their luggage, Luna asked, "Twilight, can you stay back a moment?"
"Um…sure…" Twilight waited until she and Luna were alone in the common room.
"It just seems to me," Luna said, "that your story is a little strange. I know you might be afraid that it will be too strange for everyone else. I just wanted to say you don't have to worry about me. I've heard a lot of strange stories. I won't doubt you."
Twilight turned away nervously. As much as she appreciated the gesture, she still wasn't sure whether or not she could trust Luna. "I…well…thank you. It…is a little stranger than I said. But I can't really tell you about that right now."
"It's all right. I understand."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
On the other side of the school, however, deep into the night, the secret was revealed.
Applejack and Rainbow Dash had waited up in the common room after the others had all gone to bed, and they chatted quietly about the castle, the journey there, and what was ahead. Thinking they were alone, they were startled to hear footsteps.
Hermione entered the common room, followed by Ginny. "I remembered where I'd read about the Elements of Harmony before," she said—softly, so as not to wake anyone. "It was in a book that speculated on other dimensions. You wouldn't happen to be from another world, would you?"
Caught by the truth, Applejack and Rainbow Dash exchanged glances nervously.
"I can see why you wouldn't want that out," Hermione said. "This place hasn't had the best history with interdimensional relations. You can barely even find any reading material on the matter. What I had just mentioned the Elements of Harmony in passing and said they were powerful."
Applejack sighed. "I ain't gonna lie anymore. You're on the nose. We ain't from around here at all."
"But you have to keep that a secret!" Rainbow Dash hissed, already upset that the cat was out of the bag.
"Don't worry," Ginny said. "We won't tell."
"We certainly understand the need to keep a secret," Hermione added.
"But this does change things," Ginny pointed out. "Why are you here?"
"Because we're trying to get stronger in order to deal with everything out there," Applejack answered, "and this is the best place to learn about magic."
"Well, that's certainly quite true," Hermione admitted. "Forgive me if this isn't something you should be talking about, but what exactly is out there? I know you wouldn't be here unless something was going on. Something that could affect this school."
"Well…we're still working out the details ourselves," Rainbow Dash said, "but we know this much. There's a witch of some kind named Maleficent who's trying to use darkness to mess everything up. There's a Changeling who's hopping from place to place and taking on different identities so she can ruin the people she's taking the looks of. And there's a prophecy saying that everything's going to go all chaotic, and we might be the ones that have to stop it."
"And let's not forget," Applejack reminded Rainbow Dash, "Discord might be involved in all of this."
"Chrysalis was making that up!" Rainbow Dash snapped. "He isn't back!"
"An enemy of yours?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah," Applejack answered. "And of yours too. If he's really out and about, if he gets here, he ain't gonna stop until he's made a giant joke out of this entire castle. A dangerous joke where people could get hurt."
"But it's just a rumor," Rainbow Dash asserted. "Something somepony made up to scare us."
"I see," said Hermione. "I do want to warn you to be careful. After all, the last time someone told me a rumor that a powerful enemy had returned…it turned out to be very true."
"So where are you from?" Ginny asked.
"It's a long story," Rainbow Dash answered. "But, if it's all right with Applejack, I wanna strike a deal with you. If you have the time, we'll tell you everything that happened to us and how we got here…if you tell us all about this war that happened with Voldemort."
"Sounds fair to me," Applejack agreed. "If you don't mind stayin' up late, that is."
"I've definitely got time," Hermione said, sitting down in an adjacent chair. Ginny nodded and also took a seat.
"Well," Applejack began, "it all started back in Equestria…"
WILTSHIRE, FOURTH EARTH
A gnome crawled about the hedges of the driveway of Malfoy Manor, pausing every now and then to dig in the perfectly trimmed lawn.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The gnome was startled to find itself lifted off the ground. It spun round and round in the air beneath the dark evening sky before it was flung away forcefully.
Lucius Malfoy, a tall man with cascading blonde hair, pocketed his wand disdainfully. It was always a chore keeping the gnomes from tearing up the front lawn.
A voice startled him: "Lucius."
Lucius turned to see two hooded figures, hoods positioned and enchanted as such that their faces were completely obscured, looking at him. "You are Lucius Malfoy," one of them said in a low, raspy voice—a disguised voice. "Are you not?"
"I am," Lucius answered coldly. "What do you want from me?"
"You are a follower of the Dark Lord," the voice continued, "are you not?"
"That is long behind me," Lucius answered matter-of-factly. "What is your business knowing of my past?"
Instead of giving a verbal answer, the two hooded figures drew their wands. Lucius' heart rate quickened in fear as he heard one begin to recite the Killing Curse: "AVADA—"
Lucius Apparated; the cry of "—KEDAVRA!" and streak of green light that followed hit empty air.
"You think he was telling the truth?" the other hooded figure—Pettigrew—asked. "You think we should have told him who we were?"
"If we had," the first—Scabior—replied, "then he would not have answered honestly, even if he didn't believe our return. Now we know that he and his family are indeed traitors. I think we both know the punishment they deserve."
Narcissa Malfoy, the wife of Lucius, sat across from their son, Draco, at the table in the manor dining hall, a dark cavern of marble. Whatever the pair had been discussing, it was interrupted when Lucius appeared in the room.
"What's wrong?" Narcissa asked upon seeing Lucius' pale face and anxious expression.
"Someone has just made an attempt on my life," Lucius answered.
"But who would do that?" Narcissa wailed.
"Obviously, someone who does not believe we have severed ties with Voldemort's régime, and someone who believes we deserve to be punished for our association with him," Lucius theorized. "We aren't safe here. They appeared in the driveway."
Draco stood. "If they want to harm us," he said, drawing his wand, "I'll show them—"
"No," Lucius snapped. "They'll outdraw you. We have to retreat."
"But—" Draco attempted.
"We will discuss this later," Lucius said, "and that is final. Now come with me."
Narcissa and Draco each took one of Lucius' shoulders as he Apparated away from the manor, taking his family with him.
Pettigrew and Scabior appeared in the dining room not long after. "Search the house," Scabior commanded Pettigrew. "They've got to be hiding away in here somewhere."
"And if they aren't?" Pettigrew asked Scabior.
"Then we'll find wherever those cowards run to," Scabior hissed.
Chapter 26:
· I decided to go with the moving Chocolate Frogs, even though the books don't make much description of that, because it's just more fun. And besides, it's wizard candy. It has to be more than just ordinary chocolate.
· Also, Chocolate Frogs ARE NOT alive. I want to make that very clear because I tend to get into the "What Measure is a Non Human" debate a lot, and I want to erase all notions that one is sadistic for biting off the head of a Chocolate Frog.
· The Chocolate Frog card in the HPverse actually says MORGAN le Fay. I changed it to Morgana because I like that spelling better.
· Harry Potter did become a Chocolate Frog card. This is canon. However, the card describes his work after Hogwarts. I decided that for the sake of exposition, they made his card the year after he became important by defeating Voldemort and they edited it to include his later work as he grew up. Because I know they'd want to honor him somehow.
· "Will we meet him at Hogwarts?" Not YET, Pinkie Pie. But it's not a Harry Potter storylet without Harry Potter. All I'm saying.
· No reason for Twilight knowing what socks taste like. It's just a Noodle Incident.
· And now the intro of Soul Eater stuff begins. So I've seen the whole anime and read a lot of the manga, but haven't finished the manga. So it's going to be a bit of a crapshoot with what I include from each continuity because there are things I like about both. Also, when I wrote this, before the manga was technically over, I intended for it to take place after the manga ended. However, I'm not too happy with the direction the manga's ending went (as a friend who reads it spoiled it to me at my request). So I'm either going to cut it off at an earlier time period manga-wise or just run a huge Fix Fic when I get there.
· Canon: Death himself lives in Death City, and his (well…here, more like "xyr") soul's aura surrounds it all.
· My implication here is that the world of Soul Eater (which they keep calling Earth, but trust me—THERE IS NO WAY THAT PLACE IS EARTH) was once the "Death's Domain" of the Discworld books. In that continuity, the entire world is black and white, and it's small. There's just the house, Mon Repos, and it's bigger on the inside. What happened is that I had Death change it because of the appearance of Kishin Asura (the Bigger Bad of SE), who forced him to tie himself to Death City and start training Weapon Meisters to fight the Kishin. This then changed Death's Domain from the little world we see in the Discworld books to the larger world populated by humans in Soul Eater.
· Also, my Death is composite since there are so many representations of him/her. The personality will even subtly change depending on what fiction I want to reference. That's why gender of Death "depends on who's looking". So: Death from Discworld? This Death. Death from Sandman? Same person. Death from Soul Eater? Same person. (Yes, I know it's Kid as of the end of the manga. I can still work with that.) Grim from the Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy? Same person. Reaper that accidentally took Howard to Monkey Hell in The Mighty Boosh? Same person. Just go with it.
· Medusa's entire scheme in SE is to raise the Kishin Asura so he will be more powerful than Death and spread madness and chaos the world over. I feel like Voldemort would be on board with this because it screws Death over.
· There are many "lost" people I want Voldy to be able to find, but I don't have a tracking method. So I'm going with a gossip underground.
· The other thing about Medusa is that she never seems to die. I love putting her and Voldemort together…also, I'm aware she's Killed Off for Real in the manga. But my headcanon is that you just can't freaking kill her. (You're starting to see how much I AU things when I want them to go differently. Or just bullshit them to make it look like they could have been canon.)
· That black liquid in Medusa's lab? In SE canon, that's called "black blood". If it's injected into someone, it makes them go crazy, and if you cut someone who has black blood, it can be weaponized. This will be relevant later.
· I'm going with the manga-based event of Medusa stealing and possessing her sister Arachne's body, which caused the change of hair color and outfit.
· The thing about Medusa and Voldemort is that neither would actually "submit" to someone else's order. So I decided they should each have a relationship where they THINK they're in charge.
· The sphere Medusa coughed up is something anime-related, but NOT part of Soul Eater. It's my idea of how Medusa has come back from ridiculous deaths like being sliced into pieces.
· I wrote the Hat's song myself. Which is why some of the lines are just out of meter.
· Oh yes. I am going to be poking fun at My Immortal by putting Ebony in this. I will say one thing: in 1998, Good Charlotte didn't exist (well, they did, but they were small-time and their first record wasn't released until 2000). So Ebony's obsession has to be The Promise Ring, which was pretty much the one emo band of the 90's. (And if you MUST know: I like GC much better than The Promise Ring, though I'm not as familiar with either of those as with other bands.)
· Why does Mrs. Norris have those ridiculous accessories on? Because when I first read the books at age 7, I pictured her with a bonnet and glasses. I have no idea why. There was nothing that could lead me to that conclusion. Rowling would probably hate it. But I like the idea that Filch dresses up his cat.
· I had to fill in the staff. Ermond Ricksmith is my OC. His first name was originally "Esmond," which means "protect," but as I went on, it kind of transformed into "Ermond" by accident, so I decided to keep it uniform as Ermond. His last name is a combo of Alan Rickman (actor who plays Snape) and Maggie Smith (McGonagall). Felina Grintcliffe is not my OC, but her name is my original. There's a background witch, one of the seven registered Animagi, who can turn into a black cat. That's her. "Felina" means "cat". "Grintcliffe" is from Rupert Grint (Ron) and Daniel Radcliffe (Harry).
· It bothers me that the first book is the ONLY time they ever sing the school song. So we're going to have it back.
· Hestia and Flora Carrow are Rowling's, not mine. They're the daughters of Amycus and Alecto Carrow. Since they have names of benevolent goddesses, there's fan speculation that they aren't as bad as their parents. And because I want to deny the notion that Slytherin really IS an "evil house", I'm going to run with that. Also, their age is unknown, so I made them fifth-years so I could know who one of my Slytherin Prefects was.
· Every time I make a "gave my right hand for power" joke, take a shot.
· I'm not sure, but I might accidentally have convinced myself that Pettigrew/Scabior is a good idea.
· So I'm not sure if Voldemort knew how much the Malfoys were betraying him. I mean…Narcissa's lie was REALLY obvious after Harry got up and started fighting again. And Voldemort did call Lucius out many a time. But he did situate his HQ at Malfoy Manor. So I'm not sure.
· Nigel Wolpert is also not mine. Needed a prefect for that password. Which is, BTW, Latin for "harmony".
· Welcome to the first use of hard swearing in this fic. Ebony's actions here, if you aren't familiar with My Immortal, are based on the fact that she has a ridiculously long and Gothic name that no wizarding parent would REALLY give their child, the fact that she's always described as wearing merch from emo bands instead of the uniform, and the fact that she hates "preps" and swears a lot when talking about them.
· Here's where I start punching Wizards of Waverly Place in the face. I've repeatedly tried to watch it only to be turned away by how much I don't like it. And when I saw this arc, this sealed my dislike of its moral system, and I knew I had to use this somewhere. Stevie Nichols is a "villain" from WoWP. She's a wizard there (they use that as a gender neutral term in that canon) who wants to upset the system present where only one child per wizarding family can have powers. Which, to me, sounds like a fight for equal rights. But it's seen in that canon as a horrible renegade act. And she ends up being KILLED because of it. So I've brought her back here as a good character, albeit a Slytherin because she always was a troublemaker. But…why is she only eleven? How can this be, when Voldemort knows about Alex Russo? How does this relate to WoWP canon? All shall eventually be revealed… Oh, and for reference, here, she has a British family and thus an accent.
· All the initials on the bedpost are references. Some are crossover and some aren't. You get to guess.
· And yeah…I'm a Malfoy sympathizer for all three after the seventh book happened. They did their penance, and they show enough compassion for each other that I believe they have human emotions.