Wizard Ponies, Dear Reader: Deleted and Future Scenes From HPMOR
Chapter 1: Wizard Ponies, Dear Reader: Deleted and Future Scenes from HPMOR
Ponies are invisible to the naked eye. Not all of them, obviously. Just the magical ones.
Oh, you don't believe me? Well, have you ever seen one?
Like I said. Magic ponies. Don't think too hard about it.
But even magical ponies interact with light in much the same way we nonmagical apes do. The reason you can't see ponies has to do with something called the Prohibition of Star Swirl the Bearded. Magick, the wild, unruly cousin of magic, was once loose in the world in much the same sense that alcohol is loose in the liver of a drunk. The world pawed and groped at Mars and, when it had really had too much, Venus. It fell out of its orbit, occasionally vomited its excess, and, like a drunk, it sought its cure in ever more magick.
In those days wizards and ponies got along about as well as two drunks fighting over one jug of wine. Wizards, in the inimitable fashion of humans, couldn't see anything with four legs and a tail as people. Ponies perhaps more reasonably abhorred the monsters who ate meat when they could have just as easily sustained themselves on vegetables.
Conflict was rife in the world. An economist was born at the height of the chaos to bring cooperation and order.
(as the prophecy foretold)
His name was Star Swirl the Ugly.
(His mother was very literal-minded)
When he grew in years, he became known as Star Swirl the Doesn't Like Fillies, Star Swirl the Booger-Eater, Star Swirl the Hey Maybe Fillies Aren't So Bad….
And then…he read a book. An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of All This Dumb Fighting, by Adele Smith.
Star Swirl grew. He became Star Swirl the Peach Fuzzed, Star Swirl the Mustachioed, Star Swirl the Sick Sideburns, Bro, Don't Shave Them Off.
Then he let things grow out a bit. Somepony called him Star Swirl the Bearded. It stuck.
Star Swirl grew in magick and economics. He mastered fourth-dimensional manipulation and game theory and came to two conclusions:
1. Ponies and humans needed to stop fighting or their would be a second Depression like the one that sunk Atlantis beneath the waves of Time, and also the regular waves.
2. Sometimes, especially when ponies are being really dumb, better outcomes can be realized by restricting the choice set and constraining ponies.
(Star Swirl the Bearded checked his math and deduced the same logic could be applied to humans)
Star Swirl needed magick. He approached the ponies and told them of the Pyramid.
The Pyramid worked like this:
Star Swirl the Bearded recruited two ponies, who gave him some of their magick. They went out and recruited two more ponies each, who gave some of their magick up the Pyramid to Star Swirl. Those four ponies went out and recruited eight….
Join the Pyramid, he said. Guaranteed Returns! Just Look at the Chart! I Got Two, and Cotton Dancer Says She Knows Someone Who Wants In, and If You Can Recruit Just Two….
And so it went until the Pyramid of Star Swirl the Bearded stretched out over the world like the shadow of a financial system…
…Teetered…
…And crashed down.
With all the ponies' magick within his horn, Star Swirl cast the spell.
The earth blurred—
Warped—
Folded—
Over itself.
A world for ponies. A world for humans.
You have wandered the meadows of Equestria. You napped in a raging river, walked through walls, and passed by the ponies….
They passed you by too.
Star Swirl the Bearded heard that a human wizard, some guy named after a fish, tried something similar.
Well. Nothing he could do about it now.
So the ponies lived in their world and the humans in ours. But Star Swirl's spell wasn't perfect. Not every pony had joined the Pyramid, not all magick was gone. Some remained, and when the ponies who held it died, it sunk into the earth and was absorbed by the grass and trees. They grew into a forest, thick with long black thorns that brooked no entry.
A thousand years passed. Few ponies remembered Star Swirl the Bearded, and even fewer knew of the spell he cast.
But one econopony did. She read the ancient books of the High Shelves That Require the Creaky Ladder. She saw the signs. And she went to the forest.
There she saw the earth begin to crash into itself.
Twilight Sparkle did not run into the forest. She was a responsible pony, trained by Princess Celestia and forged on many a harrowing adventure. She went back to Canterlot and reported what she had seen. Then she gathered her friends and went into the forest.
Spells don't last more than a thousand years. Everypony knows that.
"AAAAAAHHH!"
Twilight ran out of the forest, led by Rainbow Dash and followed closely by the other ponies. On the edge of the clearing they collapsed on top of each other, panting for breath.
"I am never going into the Everfree Forest again," Twilight gasped. "Nothing good ever happens there."
She peeled herself off of Applejack's sweaty coat and gazed up at the distant gloomy structure. It looked a lot like a castle.
Beneath the moonlight glints a tiny fragment of silver, a fraction of a line...
(Black robes, falling)
...blood spills out in liters, and somepony screams a word.
Transformed into one of the benches in the car of the Hogwarts Express (ponies have strong backs), Twilight smiled as the brown-haired girl concentrated on the task before her. She remembered having been much the same as a filly in the Canterlot Academy.
But her attention was on the boy. He bore the same Cutie Mark as one of the Bearers did in her world.
Coincidence? She couldn't be certain. She would watch this boy….
The silver-haired boy, the probably Element of Finance, Twilight had decided, was going on and on about blood purity again.
(Twilight had thought the lightning-marked boy was the Element of Finance for obvious reasons, but now she realized he was most likely the Element of Information or perhaps the Element of…whatever Pinkie Pie's Element was, exactly.)
The brown-haired boy didn't argue directly. Instead, he talked about Science.
Twilight preened. She liked Science. But it was all utterly silly. As if it mattered whether a pony was a pureblood unicorn or not! Twilight's own parents certainly hadn't been magically puissant.
Now species, species mattered a great deal, no matter what Fluttershy said. Darn dirty dragons.
"This is so much fun!" Pinkie Pie squealed.
"Calm down, Pinkie," Twilight said. "We have to think of strategies for the human girl, the Element of…Goodness to use in the upcoming battle. She must win, or the boy will grow into too much of an insufferable jerk."
(After some reflection and three sleepless nights wracked with stomach pains, Twilight had conceded the possibility that the Elements in the human world didn't have to match up directly with the Elements in the pony world. Still, it rubbed her the wrong way, like the human supply-and-demand charts that placed price on the vertical axis and quantity on the horizontal.)
"No way!" Pinkie Pie said. "I'm definitely siding with General Chaos."
"Ponies for Dragon!" Rarity cheered. She blushed when Twilight glared at her. "What? That Malfoal has quite the fashion sense."
From the herd of thestrals—Fluttershy cared for them with a singular intent that made Twilight realize how long they had been gone from Equestria, but the thestrals were dumb if convenient animals and Twilight paid them little attention—Twilight watched the boy challenge the Dementor. And fail.
A number of things happened after that.
Wow, Twilight thought. That kid needs friendship lessons.
The Defense Professor regarded the boy. Had he himself been so quick, so sharp at that age? He couldn't remember. It had been so long since there had been anyone to compare himself to.
He probed the boy's mental state. Scattered. Inexperienced. Naive.
The Defense Professor intended to do something about that.
He allowed himself a small smile, the briefest twitch of his lips. It would go right to the boy's head, of course. Muggles were almost as insane as wizards, but their magicians understood that the people who sit up front and watch the magician's every move suspiciously are the ones most easily fooled.
He cast thirty spells of detection and ward. They needed to talk, after all.
On a whim, the Defense Professor considered a thirty-first spell, one that had not been cast in a thousand years. It served no purpose anymore, but it would be good to impress proper caution upon the boy.
He cast the spell.
His eyes widened.
"WHAT THE F—"
"Ponies?" Harry shrieked.
Twilight sighed. At least he wasn't fainting anymore. Or screaming about sentient carrots.
"Yes," she said. "Ponies."
"Let me at them!" Rainbow Dash shouted, straining to pull her tail out from Applejack's strong jaws. "They're hurting her! All of them, just ganging up and no pony is doing anything!"
"She has to do this on her own," Fluttershy trembled.
"No she doesn't! We could help her!"
"We need—" Fluttershy's voice cracked. She swallowed and spoke hoarsely. "The Element of Good must be strengthened in trial. Alone."
"Says who? That old man was right! If everypony saw us helping her, then maybe they wouldn't be afraid, then she wouldn't be alone—"
"I don't think so." Fluttershy looked away. "I'm the Element of Rationality. We—Harry and I, we think—"
Rainbow Dash started to speak. A choked sob cut her off.
"For crying out loud, Fluttershy, that isn't fair," Rainbow Dash muttered. "Fine, we'll do things your way. But we're still going to be there to guard them every step of the way!"
Shining Armor threw his hoof around Severus's shoulder.
"Dude, that's a total bummer," he said. "You should meet my girlfriend sometime. She's a great matchmaker."
Luna sat across from the old wizard who gazed at her from behind half-moon spectacles that glinted like teardrops.
"You are not turning evil," she said firmly. "Believe me. I have been there."
"That was brilliantly executed," Princess Celestia admitted. "I have trolled many a pony, but never quite like that."
She offered her hoof. "Brohoof?"
Professor Quirrell extended his fist solemnly.
"Brohoof."
"I'm sorry," Twilight whispered. "It was my fault. If you want to blame somepony, blame me."
"I don't want to blame anypo—anyone," the boy said. There was something…missing in his voice that reminded Twilight Sparkle of Nightmare Moon. "I don't blame you. Only myself."
He stood up.
And walked past her.
Twilight held back a sob. Not being blamed by that boy hurt worse than her ribs being shattered into a dozen pieces.
It was a long time before she left the dead girl's side.
Twilight raced through the forest, her heart hammering in her chest like the drumbeat of a funeral march played much, much too fast. The…thing was after her, the blurring, twisting darkness. It had no shape, no form, nothing to attack. She could only run.
Ponies are not built for distance running. No creature is, except man….
Twilight tripped over something. She tumbled painfully through the vine and bramble and slammed into the thick trunk of a tall oak tree.
She risked a look back.
It was a pony. Dead.
Twilight ran. But the slithering shape of darkness cut her off. A stitch in her side like the ticking of a bomb marked how much longer she could keep running.
She didn't have much time left.
Twilight held her horn high, though she trembled. Her lavender mane blew in the ghostly wind that haunted the Everfree Forest.
"I know it doesn't mean a thing to a monster like you!" she gasped. "But you do not murder me! I choose to go to my death! I choose it, and that makes all the difference—"
The cold office of the Defense Professor was lit only by a dim blue flame. Princess Celestia's face was taut. Heavy bags sagged below her eyes.
"It was necessary," she said dully. "Our—students—both of them, had to—"
She cut off.
The Defense Professor did not say anything. He did not move at his desk. He looked for all the world to be dead.
"Before the earth crashes into itself," Princess Celestia said, "We must escape this world. Even so…even so, she was my dearest and most faithful student. I loved her like a daughter." Now she allowed the tears to fall freely.
The Defense Professor jerked in his chair.
She glared at him. "I suppose you will say that it is just an act! That I am merely playing a role! But she was—to me, I—"
But the Defense Professor said nothing at all.
We are caught up with the present time. The future spreads out before us, an exponentially multiplying maze of possibility that even Pinkie Pie would find daunting. But we must choose.
The best guess then, and let the consequences be on my head. Or do you think that you should be blamed?
If you can bear it, then read on….
"It is not yet the time of our meeting," said Professor Quirrell. "I take fifty Quirrell points from you."
Harry hesitated, then nodded. "Professor Quirrell, I intend to prevent the end of our worlds."
"Impossible," said the dry voice of the Defense Professor.
"Zero and one are not probabilities," Harry said. "They're certainties, and Bayesians don't deal in certainties. There's always a chance of everything."
"Foolish. Even now you do not understand the need to concentrate on the survival of your own values."
"It's more like I can't accept the end of two planets full of sentient creatures as an outcome," Harry said.
Harry waited, but Professor Quirrell didn't answer. He turned to the door and stopped.
"I am going to solve magic, become God, and fix everything forever," Harry said. "Just thought you ought to know."
He walked out.
Princess Celestia and Professor Quirrell readied themselves before the boy.
"I've transfigured a number of prisms," Harry said. "I understand that rainbows are good for this sort of thing. Come on, Professor Quirrell, get away from her!"
Princess Celestia's horn glowed threateningly. "Little wizard, you cannot hope to think that a pile of artificial rainbows can defeat me."
"No, I don't," Harry said. "I need Alicorn magic."
Her eyes widened. "My sister? But—"
"No," Harry said. "I really don't like teachers who mistreat their students. I thought I'd give her a chance to say her piece."
Lightning cracked in the sky. From the tip a lavender whirlwind of magic thick as an oak tree and bright as a star spiraled to the ground. It glowed—
And faded.
"Impossible!" Princess Celestia screamed.
Twilight Sparkle folded her wings behind her.
"Told you," Harry said to Professor Quirrell.
"I've become an Alicorn princess," Twilight said. Her eyes were fixed on her mentor. "But you are no longer fit for the throne."
Princess Celestia's eyes were wide, but her voice was low and threatening. "I don't know how you did this, but you are only a half-baked econopony with untrained Alicorn magic. If you think you can beat me—"
"It won't matter."
The Defense Professor's voice cut through everything else. His expression as he gazed at Harry was unreadable.
"Mr. Potter," he said. "I am King Sombra."
Harry stared, frozen, as his brain caught up with his ears.
"Could you please clarify?"
"It is as I said. I am King Sombra. I killed you parents. I killed Ms. Granger, and I thought I had killed your pony ally as well."
Harry's jaw dropped. "Wait, you mean you're a bad guy?"
Twilight facehoofed. "Darn it, Harry!"
The Alicorn Princess and the Master of Death stood together…
…No. You don't stand in space.
But they were together, all the same, floating in the endless expanse of dark, where enormous spinning gas balls of fire and light were only distant specks of diamond.
"Do it, Harry," Twilight said. "Save our worlds."
"Everything is going to crash together," Harry said. "Not just the worlds—I think Hogwarts is going to land right on top of Sweet Apple Acres, and I'm not sure what that means in practice—but our two civilizations. It won't be easy."
"You save them," Twilight said, "And I'll teach them how to cooperate."
Harry nodded. He pointed his wand at the sun.
"Expecto Patronum Gigaia Terebra Confractus!"
Harry slumped to the ground as the light and power of a thousand stars left his body. He looked up and caught a glimpse of a familiar clump of long brown curls just before her body landed on his.
It was only the light body of a healthy and very much alive twelve year-old girl, but he was only an eleven year-old boy, so to him it felt a lot like being squashed by a wet and hairy elephant.
Beside the two of them sat a silver-haired boy. He gasped as unnaturally bright flowers burst into existence all around him.
"This is the merging of the human and pony worlds," he breathed.
He winced at a loud crashing sound.
"Harry!"
The Boy Who Lived And Made Damn Well Sure Everyone Else Did Too managed to partly free himself from Hermione. "What?"
"A barn just landed on Hogwarts."
Twilight beamed at the sight of the friends reunited. Immortality, rationality, and economic wealth were all great, but friendship was what really mattered most.
Speaking of which….
Something blue and flying crashed into her. They rolled and tumbled along the dirt. Twilight landed on her back, gazing up into a familiar face that grinned through the tears.
"Twilight!" a group of voices called.
Twilight looked. They were there, running toward her through the field of grass that wasn't quite sure if it was supposed to be Flobberworm food or a pony's garden.
"Girls!" she said. "I'm so happy to see you!"
"Twilight!" they cried. "We thought you were—"
It was a happy ending.