Meanwhile, in a world inhabited by ‘human shaped’ life forms…

Albus Dumbledore tried not to meddle in Harry’s life. No, really, he did.

After seeing the child of his late, beloved students first walk through the doors of the Great Hall, he knew he had robbed the young boy of the joys he should’ve had during his childhood, all for the sake of some prophecy. It was a realization that pained the old man to this day.

Oh, how far he’d fallen, how similar he’d grown to his onetime friend, Gellert, in that regard…

He tried, oh, Merlin, how he tried, to give Harry some semblance of happy memories to make up for lost time, but it all came crumbling down, year after year.

In Harry's first year, Albus had been directly responsible for the presence of the Philosopher’s Stone, the very artifact that Voldemort risked coming to Hogwarts to steal, on a night that nearly cost Harry Potter his life. If there was ever a more powerful image to drive home the fact that all of his plans, any thought of conditioning the boy to be a weapon, should be discarded, it was the memory of that night; the memory of a child, bloodied and bruised from a battle with an older, far more powerful wizard, laying unconscious in the Hospital Wing.

Second year was no different, the poor child was forced, along with his friends, to solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and faced the monster of Slytherin alone.

Perhaps even more horrifying was third year, in which Harry had learned that his parents’ friend, Sirius Black, had betrayed them and revealed their location to Voldemort. The boy had spent months hating the man who had, in effect, taken everything from him, only for the curtains to be pulled back, revealing Sirius to be an innocent man, framed by Peter Pettigrew, a man thought murdered by the falsely accused Sirius.

Albus closed his eyes, fighting back the sting of tears as he began to feel his true age; another innocent life had been in his hands, and had nearly been cut down far too young.

Just like Arianna…

Albus composed himself, returning his focus to the four heads of houses of his esteemed institution, and placed his trademark grandfather smile upon his face. “Has there been any sighting of young Harry since last evening?” He asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Professor McGonagall replied, her Scottish burr thick with worry for her wayward student. “I’ve asked every student in my house, even some in the others, none have seen hide or hair of him since his last class yesterday!”

Nods of confirmation from Professors Flitwick and Sprout only served to send the Headmaster’s hopes crashing down. He sighed, breaking his façade and bringing a hand up to message the bridge of his nose; he’d overestimated Harry’s ability to cope with the pressures of the Tournament and suspicion of his peers as the faculty tried to identify the one who managed to slip his name into the Goblet.

The opinion of the students, foreign delegations, tabloids – the only reason he hadn’t barred Rita Skeeter from attending all proceedings was due to some ridiculous rule involving the press having reasonable access to the Champions – and the general public had no sway over the Hogwarts staff, each and every one of them, even Professor Snape, no matter how much he might try to deny it, knew that Harry hadn’t approached the Goblet.

The fact that Harry Potter was, once again, the victim of someone else’s machinations didn’t sit well; disregarding the fact that they were being made to seem incompetent, the boy’s safety was at risk! The Triwizard Tournament wouldn’t be easy for seventh year students; a fourth year had almost no chance of survival!

But all they could do now was identify the one behind it all and pray that their student could survive…

Breaking his silence, Severus Snape looked up and spoke in his drawling voice. “Perhaps the boy needed a bit of time to himself. Away from prying eyes and the gossip of the rest of the insipid dunderheads of this school.” Albus gave him a look of questioning, curious to know where his trusted spy was going with this. “Potter is clearly feeling the strain; the majority of the student body turning on him again, ridicule from foreign delegations on top of being entered into the most dangerous spectacle of our world. As unpopular as it may be, and as much as I am loathe to say it, perhaps this is his manner of coping.”

McGonagall turned to face the Potions Master with a heated glare. “Are you suggesting that we leave the poor boy to his own devices again?”

“Would you have him brought back to be the subject of ridicule?” he asked coldly. “He is still a child, this level of stress will have an effect on his mentality.”

“It almost sounds as though you’re concerned for him, Severus,” Flitwick chipped in, a wry smirk on his lips.

“I simply don’t want that insufferable brat to blow up my classroom because he suffered an emotional breakdown! If that means he stays as far away from the rest of the mouth breathing buffoons that make up the student body, then so be it!”

“Still, that’s a rather well thought out case you’ve put forth. Almost as if you’ve been thinking about it at great length…”

The Head of Slytherin House felt a heavy scowl fall across his face. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I don’t care what the brat does, if it means less of a mess for me to deal with, so be it. He can go frolic with a herd of pastel colored ponies if it means I don’t have to deal with James Potter’s spawn!”

---

Meanwhile, in a world populated by ‘pony shaped’ life forms…

“Dude… that’s gonna leave a serious mark!”

“Vinyl! Show a little compassion! The poor thing was just run over!”

“Excuse me! Give him space! He’s coming around!”

“Say, Twilight, why exactly were you two together? Do you know him?”

“He’s been at the library since I met him last night, he’s not from around here,” that voice. It sounded so familiar, a bit muddled, but familiar. “Harry? Harry can you hear me?”

Twilight Sparkle. That was her name. Twilight Sparkle the purple unicorn.

“Ah, if I may, Miss Sparkle, I should probably do a quick scan, just to be sure he doesn’t have a concussion. Poor fellow took that hit head on… err, no pun intended.”

“I’m so sorry! I was trying to slow down but I was already in mid jump! I didn’t see it… him, I mean, until too late!”

The cacophony of voices talking around him, coupled with the rather annoying sound of a whirring, buzzing bit of machinery wasn’t helping the pounding headache that Harry woke up to. With a groan, he opened his eyes, squinting as a bright blue light fixed on the end of a silver base bombarded his retinas. Some sort of flashlight, perhaps?

“Knock that off!” He grumbled, snatching the odd looking flashlight away from the chestnut colored stallion. Upon closer inspection, he seemed to be wearing, of all things, a green tie around his neck. “Not helping with that stupid thing!”

The stallion in question gave a huff of annoyance, snatching his property back and giving Harry a thwack on the head. “Oi! Don’t disrespect my sonic screwdriver!” He scolded, waving the odd looking bit of machinery around as if it were a baton. “Now, hold still! I wasn’t done checking you for injuries!”

The wall eyed pegasus from before tapped him on the shoulder. “Uh, Doctor, I don’t think hitting him on the head is going to help with the pain… at all.”

“Oh, dear, quite right! Sorry about that! I just get a bit titchy when people, I mean ponies – I still can’t get over that – make fun of this little beauty. She’s pulled my tail out of the fire many a time, that she has!”

“Doctor Turner?” Despite the pain and fuzzy feeling in his head, Harry could’ve sworn he saw the stallion’s lips quirk upwards into a smile that showed equal amounts amusement and mystery. No, that couldn’t be right. He had to be seeing things. “Could you please focus on the issue at hoof?” Twilight demanded. “How is he?”

“Oh, sorry! I was doing it again, wasn’t I? I’ll stop, right now, it won’t –“

“Doctor!”

“Right! Well, according to the scan, he’s not concussed, so there’s good news. It seems that our young daredevil here managed to flap her wings just enough to slow herself and that marvelous scooter of hers down to a point where he was just knocked silly for a moment. Remarkable feat, really, I mean, she was in mid air and she hasn’t even learned how to fly yet!”

“Hey!” Harry’s attention was drawn to a young, orange-coated filly with a magenta mane; who was currently glaring daggers at the stallion. “I’m learning at my own pace!”

“Oh, sorry, was that rude? That was rude, wasn’t it, Derpy?” His companion gave him a flat look, but nodded all the same. “Oh, sorry, Scootamoo –“

“Scootaloo!” She cried indignantly, ignoring the snickers of a white-coated mare with a two-toned, electric blue mane and large, black-rimmed glasses with purple lenses.

“Like I was saying, Scootaloo, my sincerest apologies.”

As comical as one might think the scene playing out in front of him may be, Harry felt a bit out of the loop. “Uh, could someone or somepony or whatever explain what just happened for the benefit of those of us who weren’t conscious?”

Predictably, that drew all conversation to a halt. The filly, now identified as Scootaloo, lowered her gaze and shifted her hooves nervously. “W-Well… I was just… y’see –“

“Scootaloo,” Twilight said gently. “Take a deep breath and tell Harry what happened. He won’t yell at you, right Harry?”

If he had any thoughts of shouting – which he didn’t – the look on his friend’s face left no room for debate. He nodded and gave what he hoped was an easy smile.

Scootaloo seemed to regain her nerve, and gave him a look of utter contrition. “I’m sorry!” she blurted out, eyes brimming with tears. “I was just trying a new trick on my scooter,” she gestured with her left hoof to an orange scooter laying in the road, just out of arms reach. “I used the lid of one of Roseluck’s flower crates to jump, but I didn’t see you until it was too late!”

As painful as being used as a landing pad might be, he really couldn’t find much fault in a child, or a filly, in this case, trying to have fun. If anything, he felt a bit guilty for stepping in her way; knowing that you’ve accidentally hurt someone is one thing, doing so in a crowd is far worse.

Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked into her eyes, wincing as the tears began to spill out and roll down her face as she prepared for the strange creature she’d hit to shout himself silly.

She was in a place he was all too familiar with.

Before he had a chance to ease her nerves, another filly, this one with a yellow coat and red hair, with a large pink bow sitting on the top of her head, stepped forward. “Please don’t be mad, mister!” she begged. “Scootaloo ain’t a bad pony, honest!”

This must be a friend of his unintentional assailant. Best to nip this thing in the bud before it got out of hand. “I’m n –“

“Really! She’s not!” Another filly added, this one was a unicorn filly with a white coat and lavender and pink swirl mane, as she stepped forward and put a hoof around the nervous pegasus’ shoulders. “She was just trying to show us a new trick! It’s all our faults really!”

Immediately as the little unicorn finished, the trio of fillies, in unison, gave looked at him with the most innocent, vulnerable wide eyes imaginable.

Harry bit his lip, trying with every fiber of his being not to let any embarrassing sounds escape his lips as he was met with the most dreaded manipulation tactic: the puppy dog eyes.

He already felt bad enough that Scootaloo looked ready to cry, this just wasn’t fair.

“I’m not mad,” he hastily assured them. “I’m just… well, I’m just in pain.”

The unicorn with the large shades snorted. “In pain he says! Yeah, I’d be in pain too if I were used as a landing pad!” A grey-coated mare with a pink bowtie gave her a sharp jab to the ribs, coupled with a heated glare. “Alright, alright! Yeesh, can’t anypony around here take a joke?”

Another mare, this one with a cream coat and a blue and magenta mane silenced the complaining pony with a glare. “Somepony getting run over isn’t funny, Vinyl! He and Scootaloo are both very lucky they weren’t hurt too badly in that crash!”

“But they weren’t, so, for the love of blueberry muffins, drop it,” Derpy cut in, effectively ending the argument. Harry couldn’t help but notice that one of her eyes seemed to focus on him while the other focused on something slightly to his right. She gave him a friendly smile and greeted him. “Anyways, hi! I’m Ditzy Doo! But my friend here,” she gestured to the Doctor with a hoof. “Likes to call me ‘Derpy’! All my friends do! What’s your name?”

Harry stood up, wincing slightly as his knees protested his movement. “Harry Potter,” he replied. “Nice to meet you, Ditzy.”

“Same to you! And you can call me Derpy too!” The face splitting grin she gave him was as infectious as the fillies’ puppy dog eyes were lethal; he felt his own lips twitching of their own accord before they curved up into a smile of his own.

In an instant, that grin turned into a look of utter seriousness as Derpy regarded him carefully, both of her golden eyes focusing and boring deep into his own emerald green irises. “If you don’t mind, I have a really, really, super important question I have to ask.”

“Er, I suppose it’s fine,” he said slowly, looking to Twilight for support, but finding that she had lowered her head to console and assure little Scootaloo that she wasn’t in trouble. Harry was on his own here, though he couldn’t really find fault with his friend for trying to help an upset foal. He’d have to deal with these inevitable awkward questions about his heritage sooner or later…

“Do you like muffins?”

Or not.

Harry stared blankly as his mind tried to catch up with her innocent question, one of the few he wasn’t prepared to answer. The ponies crowded around rolled their eyes playfully and laughed; the white unicorn even gave Derpy a light push with her hoof and teasingly commended her for asking such a ‘ground breaking question’.

They were definitely taking his presence better than he expected. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry answered hesitantly. “Er… Yeah. Muffins are great.”

Derpy’s face-splitting grin was back as soon as it had vanished. “I knew it! New muffin buddy for life!” She cried happily, throwing her hooves around his neck and giving him a tight hug. “Ooh! Ooh! What’s your favorite? Is it strawberry or blueberry or chocolate chip or raspberry or –“

“Whoa there, filly!” The spikey maned unicorn laughed as she pulled Derpy back with a bit of telekinesis. With his focus turned on her, Harry noticed that her entire look practically screamed cool. With spikey two-toned mane and matching tail, she was the embodiment of what every muggle rock star tried to portray. “Give the guy a little room to breath! Anyways, muffins aside,” she said teasingly. “The name’s Vinyl Scratch, aka the magnificent mistress of music, DJ-PON3!”

The mare with the pink bowtie rolled her eyes, smiling despite her annoyance with her friend. Contrary to Vinyl, her mane and tail, both a dark brown, were sleek, neatly combed and properly maintained, giving her an air of refinement. “I seriously think you have a thing for alliteration,” she chided.

“And the one who just used a word that I don’t know the meaning of is Octavia Philharmonica, but I just call her Octy, or Tavi, or Octy-slash-Tavi!”

“Help me,” Octavia deadpanned. “Somepony, please, just put me out of my misery.”

Harry watched awkwardly as the byplay continued, Vinyl playing the part of melodramatic, annoying friend while Octavia tried in vain to instill some semblance of dignity to the conversation. A laugh from the mare with a blue and magenta mane drew his attention away from the bantering duo. “Don’t worry about those two, they’re always like this,” she giggled. “I’m Bon Bon, I run a local confectionary down the street!”

“And I’m Berry!” A grinning mare with magenta coat and mane threw in. “Berry Punch! I make and sell berry jams!”

A light chuckle from the Doctor drew the young wizard’s attention back to the only stallion of the group. “Ah, yes, what marvelous jams they are!” He praised, earning a blush from the mare in question. “I don’t believe I’ve formally introduced myself, sorry about that, really should remember introductions first, then sonic, then brilliant –“

“Doctor,” Derpy interrupted with exasperation. “You’re rambling again.”

“- Right, well, good point! I am the Doctor!” He finished, without missing a beat. “Hello!”

Harry waited for the stallion to finish his introduction and give his actual name, but the odd, brown-coated pony simply smiled expectantly, as if he were waiting for something. “Err… “ Harry had a feeling that he was about to bite on whatever bait was being left, but he just couldn’t help it. “Doctor who?”

“Time Turner,” Derpy cut in with a roll of her eyes, the first time Harry had seen both of her eyes match up since waking. “He just likes to be mysterious.”

“Yes, yes, that’s what they call me here,” Turner grumped, disappointed that his introduction had been suitably ruined by his friend.

His sudden shift in mood came as a surprise to Harry, who turned to Derpy with a look as if to say “What’s wrong with him?”

Fortunately, Derpy knew exactly how to deal with a moody Time Turner. “Doctor,” she said, poking him with a hoof. “If you stop being frowny and moody I’ll let you have an English muffin! Even if they do taste like cardboard,” she muttered the last part under her breath, just loud enough for Harry to catch. But Doctor Turner was focused on something else.

“Ooh! Can I put butter on it?” Was this guy serious?

She sighed. “Yes, you can have as much butter as you want.” The joyous squeal that came from the stallion was just too much, of all the things Harry had seen, talking dragons and ponies, fillies riding on scooters, this particular stallion was definitely an oddball.

“Go on,” Harry’s attention shifted to Twilight as she gently nudged Scootaloo forward with her muzzle. “Don’t be afraid, he’s really nice.”

Fortunately, Harry caught on quickly, a first, considering his typical awkward nature when it came to socializing. But, then again, he’d seen that deer-in-the-headlights look when he stared at his own reflection, so he had a feeling that he could understand her nervousness.

She was probably feeling the same as he did whenever he dropped a plate at the Dursleys’. Not something he wished on anyone, or anypony for that matter.

Harry crouched down, bringing himself to her eye level and trying to make himself as unintimidating as possible. “Hello, again,” he said softly.

Scootaloo flinched slightly, still a bit unsure of his temperament. “H-Hi,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

With a sigh, the young wizard decided to nip this in the bud. Really, this needed to stop before he earned a reputation for scaring little fillies. “If I remember, I said I wasn’t mad at you. You don’t think I was lying, do you?”

“Of course not!” She cried in protest. “I just –“

“Then stop worrying about it,” he interrupted casually. “Yes, it hurt. I’ll probably have a rather nasty bruise from it, but accidents happen.”

Torn between relief and compulsive need to apologize for yet another one of her tricks going wrong, Scootaloo stammered, looking between Harry and the ground several times, unsure of what to say or do in front of the strange creature she’d run into.

Her salvation came in the form of the yellow filly from before stepping forward and nudging her slightly. “See? Ah told ya he wouldn’t be mean, Scoots!” She crowed happily in her southern drawl. “Harry’s a nice – uh – no offense, mister, but what in tarnation are ya?”

There it is! Straight from the mouth of a young foal!

It seems that the universal truth about children saying exactly what was on their minds applied to alternate worlds or dimensions as well.

Oh, well. He’d been waiting for that one, anyway. “I’m a human,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Oh, horseapples, I owe Lyra thirty bits” Bon Bon muttered, much to the amusement of quite a few of the adults. Even Twilight rolled her eyes and smiled at the mention of the absent mare. Harry had a feeling that he was missing a rather well known joke, but let it slide.

The new species name had, naturally, attracted the full attention of the trio of curious fillies. “What’s a human?” the white unicorn asked innocently.

How best to explain this? “Something that walks on two legs and looks a bit like me,” he replied, giving as simple a description as possible.

“But where’s your coat?” Scootaloo threw in.

“We don’t have much hair, most of it’s on our head.”

“So ya’ll have manes like us but not full coats?”

“I suppose that’s about right, yes.”

“Coooooooooooool!” The trio gaped in perfect unison, down the same shared look of wide-eyed awe. Harry couldn’t help but feel the urge to make a rather embarrassing sound at how utterly adorable the unintentional quirk was, an urge he resisted valiantly.

World of multi-colored, talking ponies or not, there would be no emasculating noises coming from this human, thank you very much.

Shifting back to the topic at hand, Harry couldn’t exactly say that he found anything about his explanation or presence “cool”. Though, in retrospect, he could see where they were coming from; they were talking with a member of a supposed fictional species, similar to how he was currently standing among a bunch of talking ponies.

Shocking initially, but there was a definite sense of awe in each exchange, from his conversations with Twilight and Spike to his rapid-fire introduction to the townsponies. Truth be told, it was all quite surreal.

Even more so to a trio of young fillies, he imagined with a smile. These three were so happy and full of youthful innocence, something he had been stripped of. But he could hardly hold that against them, what did they know?

They thought he was “cool” just because he was something new. For once, he wasn’t the center of attention because of something that happened when he was a baby, because of something that cost him his parents. Here, he was being treated relatively well and looked at as something special because he was, by definition, unique. He wasn’t Harry the Boy Who Lived; he was Harry the human boy.

Sure, that would earn him some stares and odd questions, but both were expected. As he’d already stated, the citizens of Ponyville had every right to be stare a bit, at least they had legitimate cause for confusion.

As opposed to staring at him because he had an oddly shaped scar or the rare ability to converse with snakes…

A light hoof to his left forearm jolted Harry from his distracted state; he really needed to stop that or he’d start talking to himself. Well, more than he already did, anyways. Focusing his gaze back on the fillies before him, he found the owner of the offending hoof to be the yellow filly, who seemed to be awaiting some sort of reply. “Sorry, got lost in thought,” he said sheepishly.

She rolled her eyes and gave a light huff. “Ah swear, grown ups do that a lot,” she complained. “We were tryin’ ta tell ya our names, Mister Harry!”

“Just Harry,” he laughed. “Sorry, it’s a habit of mine. What did you say your names were?” Almost instantaneously, the three fillies brightened up and jumped into a neat row, as if they’d practiced this all before.

“Ah’m Apple Bloom!” the one who had poked him out of his brief stupor chirped.

“Sweetie Belle!” The white unicorn threw in with a little jump of excitement.

Having gotten over her fear of punishment, Scootaloo gave a cocky smirk and flutter of her wings. “And I’m Scootaloo! And together, we’re…”

“THE CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!” The trio cried in perfect, practiced unison.

Again, the surrounding ponies chuckled, some in amusement, others with some nervousness, at some sort of inside joke and dispersed, seemingly deciding that they could go about their business now that things had been sorted out. Harry was left at a loss for words as he stared blankly at the fillies who were grinning innocently up at him. He shot Twilight a questioning look, but was only given a smile and gesture towards the ones who’d greeted him in the first place.

Twilight wanted him to get his own answers. She wasn’t going to spoon feed him, he had to interact and get familiar with the locals on his own, albeit with her watching from a safe distance in case he stuck his foot in his mouth. Time to see if he could avoid the proverbial landmines.

“Er… nice to meet you all,” Harry replied hesitantly, more concerned with the way they identified themselves than anything. “What exactly are you –“

“Hey! Twilight said you’re new, right?” Scootaloo cut him off excitedly. “You’ve never been to Ponyville before?”

“Well, no, I’m not from around here. But could you –“

This time, Sweetie Belle interrupted him in much the same manner as her winged friend. “So, today is your first day in town?”

“Yes, but –“

“Well, somepony needs ta show ya around,” Apple Bloom said with a decisive nod.

“Well, Twilight was showing me –“

Despite his attempts to be heard, Harry found himself in the awkward position of being ignored by three little fillies. “Are ya’ll thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“As sure as I’ve got feathers!” Her partners in crime, who turned to Harry in such perfect unison that it nearly caused him to take a cautionary step back, mirrored Scootaloo’s excited grin.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS, TOUR GUIDES! YAY!” The teenage wizard winced at their volume, certain that this was part of the reason the townsponies were sharing knowing grins when they saw the young trio focus their attention on him.

The fact that Twilight seemed to be suppressing her own giggles should have been a big hint.

Fortunately, his horned friend chose that moment to intervene on his behalf. “Now, hang on a moment, girls,” she chided, still smiling broadly at the Crusaders.  “You can’t just drag Harry all over town without asking.”

Or not. The moment Twilight finished speaking all three little fillies hit him with another dose of their dreaded puppy dog eyes, crushing his resolve almost instantly. “W-well, Twilight was already giving me a tour…” his voice trailed off, as the fillies’ eyes somehow seemed to grow bigger and started to shimmer. This just wasn’t fair at all. Seriously, this had to be against the Geneva Convention.

Oh, wait. Wrong world.

“Er… well… you could always help, if Twilight’s not against it…”

“It’s fine with me,” the mare replies instantly, earning another cheer from the Crusaders. “We might as well start here, girls. This is the town square, Harry. Ponies come from far and wide to set up stalls and sell their products here.”

Looking around, Harry noticed that the town square was, as she described, set up in the style of a farmer’s market, with a few permanent shops set up along the perimeter. Everything from fruits to vegetables to building supplies were on display, ponies wandered between stalls, comparing products and haggling prices with the salesponies.

“Mah family has a stand set up here, too!” Apple Bloom chipped in, pointing a hoof towards a stand in the middle of the road, which had several different kinds of apples on display. From vibrant red to light green, big to small, the stand had them all and, though Harry didn’t consider himself a connoisseur of fruit, they looked absolutely spectacular. Not the slightest sign of discoloration or blemish on them. There was just one thing missing.

“Hey, isn’t it Applejack’s day at the stand?” Scootaloo asked, reaching up and scratching her ear with a hoof, in a display of flexibility Harry hadn’t thought possible for a pony.

“Yeah, she should be there,” Apple Bloom replied, tilting her head in confusion. “Ah know for sure that she’d never leave without a reason, and never without havin’ Big Mac come and cover for a bit.”

“APPLE BLOOM!” As if on cue, a shout rang out from directly behind the group, causing the fillies and Harry to jump in surprise, while Twilight simply turned around, used to her friend’s loud demeanor when she’d been angered.

In stereo, the Crusaders winced and shared a worried look. “Uh oh,” they muttered as an orange-coated mare with white freckles on her muzzle, forest green eyes and blond mane strode forward, her Stetson tilted, serving to accentuate the stern glare she was giving the trio of fillies.

“Uh, hey, sis,” Apple Bloom greeted, nervously shuffling her hooves in the dirt road as her older sister stood before her. “What’re you doin’ away from the apple stand?”

The older mare snorted. “Ah was deliverin’ some apples to the Cakes, since they can’t leave the foals alone for more ‘n two seconds before they start causin’ trouble, then Ah nearly got bowled over by Pinkie when she grabbed me and started chatterin’ away about some big party she was gonna put on for some new feller tonight!” Because she was so focused on Apple Bloom, the new mare didn’t notice Harry giving Twilight a nervous glance at the mention of the inevitable ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party. She continued on, oblivious to the human’s presence. “When Ah finally managed to get her to let me go, Ah ran into Vinyl and Octavia, who told me that you three ran over some poor pony in the middle of the road!”

“We didn’t run over a pony!” Sweetie Belle objected fervently.

“Ponyfeathers you didn’t!” She spat, stomping a hoof in agitation. “Vinyl told me that ya’ll knocked down some new feller named Hairy! Knocked the poor stallion out cold from what she said!”

Scootaloo stepped forward to defend her friends. “They didn’t run him over, I did!” She admitted. “But, technically, I didn’t run over a pony!”

“What in tarnation are you talkin’ about? Ah know mah hearin’ ain’t so bad that Ah don’t know when Ah’m told you ran somepony over!”

“Applejack,” Twilight interjected, choosing that moment to come to the fillies’ aid. “They’re telling the truth. Scootaloo ran Harry over on her scooter, but he’s not a pony.”

“Twi, ya’ll are makin’ less sense ‘n Pinkie on a sugar rush!” Applejack said, quirking a brow in disbelief. “What did she run over then? A dog?”

“Er, no, she ran into me.”

Applejack turned at the sound of a new voice, fully intending to apologize for the Crusaders’ antics and assure him that she’d be having a word with them about causing trouble in town, but she stopped short at his appearance.

Her mouth hung open, her eyes widened at the sight of the strange… thing in front of her. “Buh… Who… How… What?!”

Twilight couldn’t help but giggle at the stunned look on her friend’s face. “Harry, this is Applejack, one of my friends. Applejack, this is Harry.”

As the country mare gaped, trying and failing to find the words to properly reply, but too focused on Harry’s rather alien appearance.

“I think you broke her, Twilight!” Scootaloo snickered, earning a light hoof from Apple Bloom.

“Watch it, that’s mah sister!” She chided, not bothering to hide her amusement at her sister’s shock. “Even if she does look mighty funny like that! Ya’ll have to hang out with us more, Harry!”

“But, Ah don’t…” Applejack stammered, finally finding her voice. “Ah coulda sworn Vinyl said he was a pony!”

“Well, she wasn’t lying when she told you that somepony had been run over,” Twilight paused, raising a hoof to her chin to consider her wording for a moment, before turning to Harry. “Though, I really can’t say ‘somepony’ when you’re involved, can I? What was that you said earlier? ‘Someone’?”

“Can we discuss linguistic differences later?” Harry asked, nervously eyeing the new mare, taking notice that she looked much stronger than any of the ponies he’d encountered so far.

“But it’s important to know how to refer to you! Otherwise, everypony will get confused!”

“Maybe, but I think I’d like to not get bucked in the head right now.”

Harry’s offhand comment was enough to jolt the stunned mare out of her shock and straight into indignation. “Now, hold on there, mister!” She said, stepping forward and pointing a hoof at his chest. “Ah don’t very much appreciate you talkin’ like Ah spend my time goin’ around hurtin’ ponies or whatever you are! Ah’ll admit, Ah was surprised and the way Ah acted was a might rude, but ya’ll surprised me with yer… well… ya’ll look rather…”

Seeing her struggle to find the proper wording, Harry decided to help supply a few adjectives. “Weird? Abnormal? Freakish?” The teenage wizard noticed that the ponies, especially Twilight, were giving him some rather odd looks, almost as if they were horrified that he would describe himself as such. “What? I was thinking of the normal ones –“

“Excuse me?” Twilight snapped. “That’s how you normally think of yourself?”

“No, it’s just sort of what I expected when we started walking around,” he paused and turned to Applejack. “Am I wrong?”

“Well… uh… Ah wouldn’t say ‘freakish’, mister… but… well… ya’ll do look a lot different than us.”

“Well, yes, I’m obviously not a pony, I’m not even from this world,” he admitted.

Applejack tilted her head curiously, in a manner almost identical to the way Apple Bloom had earlier. “Then, if ya don’t mind mah askin’, what exactly are ya?”

“I’m a human.”

“A human?” He nodded once. “Yer pullin’ mah leg, right?”

“Not at all.”

She groaned, stomping her hoof on the ground again. “Aw, hayseed! Ah owe Lyra thirty bits!” Before Harry could ask about why ponies were complaining about owing somepony named Lyra money, Applejack gave him a look of mock irritation. “Why couldn’t you be a diamond dog?”

“Applejack!” Twilight scolded lightly, failing to stifle a grin at her friend’s loss.

“Oh, hush, you!” She laughed, giving her friend a gentle shove, which nearly took her off her hooves. “Ah’m only havin’ a bit of fun!” Her laughter only increased as Twilight leveled her with that half-lidded, deadpan look that the townsponies had affectionately dubbed the ‘stern librarian’ look.

It was a look that quite a few had been subjected to whenever they brought a book back damaged in the slightest or late. Twilight Sparkle took any job given to her seriously, especially if they came from Princess Celestia.

Still chuckling, Applejack turned her gaze back to Harry. “So, where exactly are ya from if not Equestria?”

“Well, it’s hard to explain,” he said awkwardly.

“Is it far away?” Sweetie Belle asked excitedly.

“I’m not sure, but probably.”

“Where is it?”

“Like I said, I’m not sure. I don’t even know where this is.”

“This is Ponyville, silly!” Scootaloo laughed. “In Equestria!”

“Well, I know that, I mean I don’t know where Equestria is in relation to where I’m from!”

“Well, tell us where yer from, Harry!” Apple Bloom chipped in. “Ah’ll be we could find it on a map if you told us! Maybe yer not a pony, but ya do have a bit of a Trottingham accent, maybe that’s where yer from!”

Harry shook his head with a sad smile, appreciative of the little fillies’ attempts to help, but resigned to what he already knew. “I’m afraid not. I know I’m not from here. The place I’m from was called England, and while I can’t say I know all the countries or cities in my world, I’m sure that I’ve never heard of places like Ponyville, Canterlot, Trottingham or even Equestria.”

“But… that means…” Scootaloo began, eyes shining with sympathy for Ponyville’s newest resident.

“Yer all alone?” Apple Bloom finished sadly.

Twilight shook her head and stepped forward. “No, he’s not,” she replied evenly, giving a smile to the trio of fillies. “He’s got me, he’s got Spike, he’s got the ponies who saw him in town today and he has you.”

“Darn right,” Applejack nodded. “Ya’ll ain’t a pony, but if we can have dragons ‘n donkeys ‘n zebras in Ponyville, a human’s more ‘n welcome in mah book!”

The feeling of warmth in his chest was similar to that of the one Harry felt when the Weasleys had welcomed him into their home during the summer before Second Year. Acceptance like this was something he didn’t have experience with; though he really did try not to focus on it too much, there was a distinct difference in the way these ponies treated him and the way his own people did during times of crisis.

The ponies admitted that he was foreign to them, but they didn’t seem to have a problem reserving judgment for now.  And while Applejack’s reaction to him wasn’t as accepting initially, her blunt honesty about the reason for her shock was quite refreshing.

Perhaps for the first time since arriving, Harry could say that he didn’t feel as worried. Sure, he’d been knocked out by a little filly on her scooter, fell headfirst into a dragon, caught the attention of royalty just by being here and had a rather interesting meeting with the townsponies, but he hadn’t been tarred and feathered yet. And that was definitely a plus.

Maybe he could give this place a chance for a while; if they at least gave him the benefit of the doubt for the time being, then waiting for Princess Celestia, whoever she might be, to find a way to send him home might not be such a bad thing.

And maybe…. What the hell was that whistling sound?

“WOOOAAAAAH!” This time, Harry threw his hands up to protect his face and ducked low, hoping that whatever was headed for him go hurdling overhead, relatively safely, sparing him further injury to his head.

His efforts were rewarded by a cyan bullet hitting him directly in the stomach, driving all the wind from his lungs, lifting him off his feet and sending him flying backwards as its momentum carried both forward, before hitting the ground in a painful tangle of limbs, clothes and feathers.

“Owwwww, sheeeeeeesh!” The mare groaned, rubbing a hoof over the bump forming on her head. Wincing slightly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Oh, dang, you alright du – WHAT THE HAY?!” She leapt into the air, flapping her powerful wings to keep her hovering above the groaning teen.

As Harry lay on his back, groaning and clutching his now aching stomach as he tried to hold down his meager breakfast, he came to one conclusion:

The pegasi definitely had it out for him.