Summary- Harry has never really had an easy life, even after the war is over. This really shows and was seriously starting to effect Harry; both mentally and physically. That is until Harry finds a certain book in the black Library. One that looks as if it had been through botched attempt at destroying it and then upon failing at that hidden away in a far corner; where it hopefully would never be seen again. A Book that promises a new, fresher, happier start with a rather simple ritual. Harry having nothing to lose and almost everything to gain decides to attempt said ritual. But there had to be some reason the Black family seemed to be so eager to get rid of the book they had right? My Little pony/ Harry potter crossover.
A.N: Okay my sister all but begged me to try to write this, or at least a crossover like this, so I am going to and I hope it turns out okay. Please know everything I am writing about my little Pony I have read about or heard about from other sources. So until I find a way to get more information updates will be real slow. As for pairing it's what every my sister wants or whatever I can fit in best.
Chapter one
Harry was staring blankly at the fire roaring in the fire place of Grimmauld Place, a glass of Scott in his hand, wondering just when everything went to hell. No, not wondering because if he was honest with himself Harry knew just when everything thing took a turn for the worst, and surprisingly it, unlike what he would have excepted when he was younger, it all started to go downhill AFTER he had defeated Voldermort. Which in the end wasn't nearly as bad as Harry had feared it would have been, wasn't nearly as bad as everyone thought it would have been. In fact, Harry had been able to beat the Dark lord by the time he was sixteen; nearly a year ago today to be truthful.
You see, once Voldemort had first come back Harry had immediately put himself through hell and back. Pushing his body to and past its limits; both in magical and Physical terms. Especially, after he had found out that Dumbledore had no plans what so ever in training him and that the Majority of the Order of the phoenix, who followed him like sheep, agreed with him in that regard.
Because of this Harry all but ran away the very second he had gotten back from his fourth year and then spend the next two years both running from both the death eaters, as well as order member, while getting in the harshest and the most effective training possible; be dammed the cost or the consequence it may have cost him.
As a result of all of this training, as well as having the advantage of surprise, the final battle ended up being a little bit anticlimactic. Especially when you considered the fact that that Voldemort's body was basically held together by magic and blood, Harry's blood to be exact, and the fact that Harry was in no way limiting himself to only magic.
Though that is not to say that during the battle that Harry, and those he cared about, got away completely unscathed either. Because despite the fact he had all of the training he had put himself through, and had some of the best fighters in the world doing said training. The dark Lord was still Voldemort and he was still an utterly brilliant, though completely insane, magical dueler who knew a lot of nearly forgotten magic that was extremely hard to counter.
Fortunately, the same could be said about Harry. Who had traveled all over the world, similar to what Voldemort had done when he was younger, and had learned his own types of forgotten magic. Only Harry had went a lot further then the Dark lord had ever had thought of. Going to places like Japan, China, Russia, and Egypt instead of stay close to his homeland like Tom had. Not only that but Harry was the head of at least four ancient houses and had the books that those houses had squirreled away; with knowledge only for said family line hidden in them.
But despite this The Dark lord had a lot more experience then Harry did and Harry had to fight for his victory, had to bleed for his victory. In the end, after Harry had finally been able to end the battle between him and the dark lord, with a purifying spell from ancient Japan, he had ending up with several, rather painful, injuries. Several of which had taken months to end and despite everything he had tried ended up scarred. These being the scar he had on his face that went from the tip of his now nearly completely faded lightning bolt scar to his chin; passing over his eye but not damaging it. As well as a thick crisscrossing couple of scars a crossed his chest. There way a couple of really light others both those scars where the deepest, most physically painful and noticeable.
But that wasn't nearly the worst thing that had happened to him during that matter; not even close to it. No, the worst thing that happened to him didn't leave any physical scars on him; much to Harry's everlasting regret. But the mental and emotional scar it left ran extremely deep. What had happed was that just after watching Voldemort's body fall to the ground Harry heard a very familiar cry come from behind him.
Hearing this pain filled cry Harry quickly spun around praying as hard as he could that it wasn't as bad as it sounded as he did so. Only to feel as if his very blood had turned to ice once he got a good look at where the scream had originated from. Because there laying on the ground surrounded by a puddle of her own blood was Luna, one of the very few people Harry had bothered to keep in contact with during the last two years, and the only person Harry willingly considered family. Worst yet looking at her injury it looked as if she had been hit from behind, with only the light side being behind her.
Seeing Luna in this state Harry had quickly forgotten about everything around him, including his own injuries, and instead threw himself next to his sister in all but blood and began to cradle her bleeding, now dyeing, body close to him. As he did this Harry cursed himself and everyone else around him because he hadn't thought to learn any healing spells while he had been on his two year training trip. If he had then maybe he could have been able to save his little sister; if he had then maybe he could have been able to save Luna's life.
Another effect of what was now called the final battle, as well as all the trauma Harry had faced both before and after the war, was the fact that Harry's hair was now pure snow white; all except his bangs which stubbornly remained a pitch black color.
Sighing tiredly and running his hands through said duel colored hair Harry put down his glass of Scott and looked away from the bringing fire in front of him as tears began to burn his eyes. Instead Harry shook his head and tried to bring himself off the thoughts of his sister's death and back on track.
Or to be more precise Harry began to think of why things seemed to have gotten worse after Voldemort's death instead of better; at least for him it seemed that way. Harry, thinking on this threw himself back in his worn but comfortable chair, before he began to think of where he believed it all start. Or at least where he felt it all started.
It was shortly after he had finished of Voldemort for good, and had had his little sister died in his arms, just a day or two afterwards in fact. When, in all their self-righteous glory, the order of the phoenix appeared before him, with the oh so great Albus Dumbledore leading them; all but looking down their noses at him the entire time.
See this, and already having a good idea as to just what they were going to say to him, Harry took a deep breath and recalled some of his training under a certain sensei in Japan; a certain sensei that taught him to control his anger and taught him how to properly meditate. Knowing that at the moment he really couldn't afford to lose his temper; no matter how much he longed to.
Once he was completely centered and was able to temporarily push all the chaotic emotions he was feeling at the moment, mainly because of what had happened to Luna, Harry opened calm emerald green eyes before turning to face what Harry knew was going to be a real test on his control. Harry was proven correct, and he knew he was going to have to fight with ever once of control he had not to lose his temper, when Dumbldore decided to open his mouth.
"Harry, my boy…" Harry hearing this calmly, in a rather chilling tone, interrupted before the Headmaster could go any further knowing he had to nip a certain something the bud before it could get started.
"Headmaster, I would rather you call me Mister Potter, I don't currently feel… comfortable enough with you calling me my boy; after all it has been a long two years since I had last seen you and we didn't part in the best of terms now did we." Harry after saying this, and mental adding that he would never be comfortable with the old coot calling him my boy, Harry waited for the response he knew he was going to get. He didn't have to wait long. Because his mouth hadn't even finished shutting from his earlier statement when one of the order members, one of the younger ones, began to shout out at him; ignoring the unimpressed raised eyebrow that Harry was giving him as he did so.
"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO THE HEADMASTER, HE IS ALBUS DUMBLEDORE. IF HE WANTS TO CALL YOU MY BOY, FOR MERLIN KNOWS WHY YOU UNGREATFULL CHILD, YOU SHOULD BE HONORED. FURTHERMORE…" Whatever else the order member, whose name Harry honestly didn't care to know, was going to say was cut off as Dumbledore stepped forward and raised a hand; signifying that he wanted to speak. Seeing this Harry rolled his eyes, something he found himself wanting to do again when he noticed the order member, who had been yelling at him, looking at the headmaster in awe before stepping down; throwing what he obviously thought to be a dirty glare at Harry as he did so.
"My…Harry I didn't mean to sound so disrespectful if that is what you are getting at…" As he said this Dumbldore gave Harry a look that said he thought Harry himself was being rude beyond all reason and that he was just humoring him, this caused Harry to take another steadying breath as he waited for Dumbledore to continue; knowing he would need that calming breath real soon seeing as the twinkle had returned to the headmaster's eyes as he began speaking.
"It is just that I was there when you were born, I was real close friends with both your parents, and I have been calling you my boy as long as I can remember. But if you feel as if you are uncomfortable with that small thing, I guess I can give into that. After all you will be giving a lot in return so it would only be fair if I return that small favor to you as well wouldn't it….Harry." Hearing this and hearing the fact that Dumbldore was still being way too personal with him Harry felt his eyebrow twitch slightly before he could calm himself down. Still Harry did have enough control over his emotions that his tone did stay composed as he spoke to the old goat in front of him; along with his merry men.
"Mr. Dumbldore, I respectfully asked that you called me Mr. Potter seeing as I don't feel as close to you as you say my parents were; please respect this request. " Here Harry tuning out all the screaming the order he was giving gave a chilling look to the headmaster and waited until he got a most unwilling, jerky nod from the old coot before continuing; ignoring the fact that all of the wizards, and witches, in front of him looked to be inches from curses him in some way as he did so.
"Now could you please explain to me what you mean when you say you BELIEVE that I will be giving up a lot in return for being called by my rightful name?" As he said this, and stressed believe as hard as he could while still remaining his cool, Harry continued to give Dumbledore a hard, icy calm star, unwilling to let anything go; having learned better during his training. But it seemed that the headmaster was completely unruffled by Harry's look, or the fact that Harry had his wand back in hand looking ready for an attack, because he simply clapped his hands and in a way too cheerful sounding tone, to Harry, he answered.
"Why Harry..." This got him a such a chilling glare that Dumbldore actually stumbled a bit over what he was saying before he corrected himself.
"I mean Mister Potter, I am talking about the fact that you are planning on taking an oath of obedience to me, and my order here, so that you can go back to Hogwarts. Where you will make up the years you have so foolishly missed, as well as your future ones, something I am sure Miss Hermione here would be extremely helpful in that regard….after you beg for her forgiveness that is, it was quiet cruel of you to leave her like you did; especially over such a minor disagreement. After all you will need the grades, so that you can go and work as an Auror like it has been planned; my…I mean Mister Potter."
Harry hearing all of this, from what he now thought of as the seriously and completely obviously irrational crackbrained old coot, dropped his poised, almost serene, look in to one of complete and utter shock before shaking his head rapidly to clear it of said emotion. Once he did this Harry clenched his jaw tightly, holding almost desperately onto the now extremely fragile control he had over his temper, as he all but bit out; his tone sounding rather stained as he did so.
"Head Master, I have to respectfully ask you…..are you out of your bloody mind?! There is no way I am every going to take make an oath to your or you order of the fried chickens; let alone one of obedience. AS for Hogwarts. I don't need to go there. During my travels I took all the testing I needed to graduate, and just to make sure I took them all several time in several places. Ranging from France, to Russia, to Egypt, to Japan, so I doubt there will be a problem there. Since I will NOT be going to Hogwarts then there will be no need for Ganger to help me in the least bit. As for begging for her, or Weasley's forgiveness, you can bloody well forget that. It wasn't a minor disagreement and nothing you, or they can say, will ever get me to think of them in the light I did before. They all but stabbed me in the back when I found out just what they were planning on doing with me. As for being an Auror, that maybe you plan for me, and when I was younger I MAY have agreed with it. It's no longer what I plan to due…in fact I am think of being a healer of some sort; as a way to pay respect to those I believe deserved it." This said Harry spun around and apparated away before anyone could react. Going to one of the houses he had inherited from his godfather; who had unfortunately died during Harry training trip in a failed attempt to draw Harry out. Too bad for the one trying this that Sirius had actually cut ties off from Harry, a year into his training, for that exact reason; no matter how much it had hurt the two of them to do so.
As he thought of that exact memory Harry found himself sighing once again as he rubbed the bridge of his nose; trying to strive off a headache that he knew was coming. Yes, he was pretty sure that was one of the main, if not the exact, reason why things had gotten so bad for him. Yet, at the same time, Harry knew that if he could go back to that exact moment when that had happened there wouldn't be much he would change; except the fact he might have flicked them all the bird as he apparated away.
Harry realizing that he wasn't getting anywhere by losing himself in his thoughts of the past, and what could have been, pushed himself out of his chair. Where he had first sat down, in an attempt to relax for the first time in weeks, and instead began to walk off to where he knew where the black Library was. Knowing that since he wasn't able to get his mind to stop thinking on the past and relax for once then at least he could attempt to keep it occupied so he doesn't get lost in thought.
Once Harry had gotten to the Library he began to look around for something that caught his attention. Walking past shelf after shelf of battle magic, defense magic, and healing having already memorized all the books the Blacks had of them. Not that knowing healing magic helped Harry any now. Especially not, seeing as no one was willing to hiring him or even be healed by him because of all the rumors that the so called light side had spread about him.
Harry not wanting to get lost in any thoughts, about how he was continuously refused to be allowed to heal others, kept on walking. Heading through the large library he was in, easily dodging around the still dangerous obstacles he insisted on keeping in said library. Mainly because of all of his training he had been through, which was something Harry made sure he still keep up and even increased despite the fact that the dark lord was dead. After getting passed all the traps he had set up, and had asked Kreautre to set up, Harry began to make his way to the far corner of the library. A place he had as of yet hadn't gotten the chance to explore.
Once he got there Harry began to look through the shelves that were now in front of him for a book that would catch his attention, and would hopefully pull his mind from the past. Harry spent a good thirty minutes thoroughly going through all the books in front of him and yet he still didn't find anything that caught his attention. Feeling a bit anger about this Harry tossed the last book he had in his hand back into the shelf it had come from; a bit roughly.
Only to pause and look with a raised eyebrow at where said book had landed. Because it seemed that despite how hard, as well as how accurately, Harry had thrown it into the self the book wouldn't go in it. Seeing this a feeling a growing sense of curiosity Harry walked over to the book shelve and lifted the book he had thrown back up before placing it down on a nearby table and reaching into said shelf to see what was block the earlier book from going in.
But then before Harry could actually put his hand into the shelf Harry froze and wondered to himself why he was putting his hand into a shelf in the BLACK library when he couldn't see what was back there. Knowing the Black's as he did, and Harry knew them more then he wanted to, there could, and most likely would, be a deadly trap back there. This thought caused Harry to jerk back his hand and instead called up a ball of light on the palm of his hand, one of the first wandless spells Harry had learned, and use said ball of light to see just what was in the back of the shelf.
Doing this caused Harry to see a rather beat up, almost burnt looking book, shoved in the very back of the shelf; almost completely hidden from view. Seeing this Harry cursed silently to himself over his paranoia and summoned the book to him; still unwilling to put his hand in the dark shelf despite the fact he could now see the back of said shelf.
Harry quickly, and easily, caught the mysterious book as it came flying from the back of the shelf it had been hidden in. Before flipping it over and looking at the cover hoping the title would be able to explain why the Black family had seemed so determined to keep it hidden and out of the way. Once he did Harry felt his eyes widen and a spark of hope that he hadn't been able to feel in at least a year began to burn in his chest. Because there on the cover of the book in his hand read the title: New worlds, new hopes.
Harry wasn't sure just why the Blacks had hide this book but at the moment he honestly couldn't bring himself to care because if the book sounded as helpful as the title suggested he was going to use it; be damned the consequences. Because after all what did he really have to loss if it did all turn bad? He had no friends, Neville the only one he had been willing to call a friend besides Luna turned his back on him and blamed him completely for Luna's death. He had no family, all the people he considered family was dead, and in all honest he really had not future. Not unless he planned to live the one Dumbldore planned out for him completely; something Harry would never be willing to do….Plus if the Black's hide the book like they did there must have been a reason right? It couldn't have been too bad or else they would have used it or given it to Voldemort right? I mean they did try to hide, get rid of Sirius, and look how he was…
Keep this in mind, and deciding to throw caution to the wind, Harry opened up the book and began to read it. Only to drop the book after getting a chapter into said book; with tears forming in his eyes as he took in all the information said chapter had. The book was about a ritual, one that could take him to a new world, a place where he wasn't called Harry Potter, the boy who lived to turn coat.
Seeing this harry quickly flipped to the page said ritual was on and literally unable to bring himself to care about what type of world he could be sent to, only caring that it was a different world, Harry began to create the ritual necessary to go to the new world. Ignoring the training he had received, as well as the gut feeling he was getting, that said to read further in the book as he did so.
Once Harry finished the ritual Harry looked from the book to the runes he had one the ground making sure it was all correct before desperately activating said ritual; it was time for his new start, his new hope. As Harry thought this, and has the ritual activated, Harry felt a large burning pain and was completely blinded by a bright white glow. A glow and burning pain that both got so bad that Harry wasn't able to keep his hold of his consciousness; no matter how hard he tried.
Groaning slightly Harry began to wake up, and immediacy jumped up as he recalled just what he had done before he had passed out. Or at least he attempted to jump up but only found himself falling head over heels for some reason. Only to freeze and stare wide eyed as he notice just why he had fallen back down.
Or to be more precise Harry stared wide eyed had the hooves he had instead of feet. Seeing these hooves in place of his hands and feet Harry felt the blackness that he had just escaped from close back in on him and before he passed out Harry couldn't help but think:
'Perhaps I should have read more of that book before I did that ritual…'