Disclaimer: What can I say? I don't own it.
Summary: Harry decides he wants to try Animagi, and persuades Hermione to help... this changes them... a lot.
Chapter 20: The Rollout Started Before
Barty Crouch Jr.'s day had not been a good one so far.
It had started out normally enough with some Polyjuice and the painful process of getting that daft old auror's wooden leg and magical eye put in place. It didn't help that those places wouldn't exist if not for the Polyjuice, and though the Polyjuice itself was largely painless, trying to use implants that his normal body wasn't prepared for hurt, much more than it would have otherwise.
Of course, dealing with that pain gave him an even more surly attitude than he normally would have had, so it was, in that way, easier to pull off the 'Mad-Eye Moody' act. It was also just as well that he was a self-trained occlumens, as he'd felt the old man Dumbledore, brush against his mind more than once. The old codger seemed satisfied with what he saw, or felt or whatever, but Barty had taken up his practicing again, if only to not show vulnerability. He had no illusions that if the old man wanted he could tear into his mind faster than his master could have him dead.
Or, well, perhaps not that fast, but pretty quickly. He knew it was his acting that was keeping him alive, not his skills, though thankfully it was well within 'Alastor's character to work obsessively on something like Occlumensy, so if anything the old man seemed more satisfied when he undoubtedly realized what Barty was doing.
But that wasn't why his day had gone so badly. No, it was because of the Potter brat.
All year he'd been trying to help the boy from the background, trying to ensure that he won in the end. But although his efforts had seemed to have been in vain up to the final task, he was confident he'd be able to ensure victory within the confines of that last task, especially when the old man confided in him what that task would entail: All he would have to do was ensure that Potter got to the cup first.
This meant he would have to intercept the other two champions, holding them off long enough for Potter to do what he was supposed to, hopefully without getting himself killed.
So he'd been in the Hedges when the first champion entered. Watching her with his stolen Beholder Eye, Barty decided that the cup was in no danger from Fleur Delacour, at least for the time being.
Not long after, Viktor Krum entered. He wasn't doing much better, and was in fact much less... graceful on land than the other.
But then came the part he'd been dreading, waiting for Potter. He could do nothing else, and though it turned out to be unnecessary, he was on a hair-trigger to... delay the first two teens so they didn't get to the cup too soon.
It was Krum that he was still watching when Potter entered. He was almost alarmed that Potter seemed to be taking to the maze without a care in the world, going this way and that, getting turned around and generally getting more and more lost.
It was partly because of this observation that he decided to act; checking with the Beholder Eye, he caught Krum with an Imperio and started leading him, with purpose, toward the girl.
And then, as he had that eye turned back on Harry, he saw it; Harry changed. The Beholder Eye suddenly had trouble seeing him very clearly, but it saw clearly enough: He was a pink blur, speeding through the air off the ground and eating up maze terribly quickly.
He'd been warned about Potter's Animagus form, that he turned into a pink kitten, of all things, but this... this he hadn't been expecting! Hadn't been prepared for! How could he have missed it!? Even with the slight blurring of the Beholder Eye's vision, he should have been able to get something of this!
In his shock, he dropped Krum like a puppet, stunning him for good measure; in the back of his mind he remembered the magical fog of the first task, which prevented any form of scrying, even the Beholder Eye, and the way the boy seemed to melt into the water during the second. Doubtless both were the fault of this... undoubtedly magical Animagus form.
But mostly, his mind was screaming at him with something almost akin to panic: His master didn't know! Potter was headed directly for his master, who was vulnerable, and his master didn't know about the unknown, and possibly great power that Potter may have had to bring to bear!
He tried to console himself with the thought that perhaps Voldemort had known, and simply not seen fit to tell him, but he knew that was an excuse: He should have seen it, in retrospect. Why else would Dumbledore guard knowledge of Potter turning into a small pink kitten so closely? So closely as to hold it dear to his chest even from his 'old friend', until said 'old friend' had basically needled it out of him?
Even after explaining about 'Harry's change, never had the old man mentioned anything like that! And that, if nothing else, should have been his first clue. Secrecy plus nothing to hide equals something to hide. It was something Alastor himself would have said, and now Barty Crouch Jr. was beating himself over the head for missing it.
He was also doing his best to stealthily make his way back out of the hedge-maze; Dumbledore allowed him to be there, 'just in case', but it still wouldn't be good to be caught there when things inevitably went bad. He was expected to leave as soon as he was sure nothing was going wrong.
He tried not to think about the fact that Potter's form was still somewhat blurry when he returned to human form to send sparks up for Krum. He tried not to choke on his spittle when the boy battled the Skrewt, or the Sphinx, though seeing him kill that full-grown Acromantula with a single kick to the forehead sent him into a coughing fit that had Dumbledore giving him concerned looks.
When the boy finally disappeared, he snarled angrily, signaling to Dumbledore, if no one else, that something was 'wrong'. Dumbledore was enough, of course, and the near bedlam that came after that lasted long enough for him to skive off to "check the perimeter while those bloody bugs do their work", though it was also a chance to get reacquainted with the Dark Mark that he was very happy to see successfully return.
That meant his Master had returned. It meant that, unforeseen magical Animagus aside, Voldemort had returned to the fully living, and hopefully the Potter brat would be killed.
After making sure his mark was suitably hidden, he returned, giving his very-well-thought-out excuse for 'how could this have happened'. He didn't need to put much thought into it, just make it sound obvious to the old man. So long as he sounded unhappy about it, the coot bought it completely.
And then the boy came back. Except it wasn't the boy. It was that... pink thing. And this time, with both eyes focused on it, he could make it out. It was even less threatening when seen clearly, and at the same time all the more frightening.
The boy and several of the judges made a fuss, which he tried to stay out of, until he saw his opportunity and tried to lure the 'boy' away.
Perhaps if he hadn't been so impatient. Perhaps if he hadn't been so worried. So angry. So stupid as to try to 'act' for an unusually perceptive 'child' that may not have been a child at all, while also trying to keep the same act up for the adults around, especially Albus Dumbledore...
Perhaps, but that was in the past. Dumbledore had... gently requested they return to the castle. He knew exactly what that meant, and wasn't about to go without a fight.
The jig was up, so he nodded solemnly and, as discreetly as possible, whispered "Cruci-OOF!" And as he sat, magically bound to a chair with one leg and one eye still missing, he had decided that the absolute lowest point of his day, no, of his year had been getting tackled to the ground by a small girl who skipped half her meals to stay in the library.
It was only three days before his final task that Harry found himself wandering the upper floors on the Castle's North side. If he'd been the type to wax poetic, he might have wondered if he were hoping the Astronomy Tower might help him find answers to his quandary.
After aimlessly walking for a while in corridors that were about as empty as the space between a certain blonde's ears, Harry finally stopped before a familiar painting.
In it there was a knight, who would periodically fall off his horse, try to remount his horse, try to right his horse (who didn't seem particularly interested in standing again), and whom babbled nonsense non-stop.
It was Sir Cadogan, who had for a short time, been the doorkeeper for the Gryffindor dorms, and whom Harry had always found to be rather entertaining.
With a smile, Harry recalled the first time he'd 'met' Sir Cadogan. He'd been exploring the tower in his Animagus form, which at the time was still rather new to him, and everything had still felt so... big. It was marvelous.
Also, he'd had yet to realize that he saw better in the dark than everyone else, so he didn't at the time realize that he by all rights shouldn't have been able to see where he was going.
Regardless, he'd been wandering the halls for some time, and had come this way to see if he could scout out where the classroom might be. It was a good idea, in retrospect, but he hadn't been thinking about that at the time, simply wanting to have a look around.
He remembered hearing a voice shouting from around a corner, going on about 'foul beasts' and 'fair maidens' and what-not. It had been somewhat confusing, so he'd sought out the source, and found Sir Cadogan, whose horse had fallen asleep and was ignoring his rant about what a knight's 'true duties' were.
Harry found the remainder of this rant entertaining, so he sat himself down on the floor nearby and listened for a while. He didn't remember the rant proper, but it amused him so that was enough, until Sir Cadogan cooled off a bit and noticed him.
"What? Foul beast! Sneaking up unseen, from the dark no less! What say you!" He'd drawn his sword, fumbling awkwardly with it on the way out as he tried to point it menacingly, instead looking like he didn't know whether to play golf or baseball with it.
"Mew." That was, at the time, all that Harry could think to say. Also all he could say.
"What is this? Come forth, cowardly knave, that I may see thee! Or shall ye stay among the dark with the ghosts and goblins!?" At this point he'd gotten his sword under control again, only for his helmet to fall over his eyes, making him stumble about, "What sorcery!? Bring back the light, dastardly beast!"
Giggling, Harry stood up and approached, but since he hadn't learned to fly yet he couldn't really get a whole lot closer than the floor, which wasn't really satisfactory. So at about the point that the knight had gotten his helmet back in its proper place, Harry decided to jump up high enough to greet him face-to-face.
So he did, bounding easily high enough to put both paws against the grass to either side of the knight, who reacted by yelping and falling on his rear, shouting angrily by the time Harry landed.
"Unseemly beast! What be ye? Some form of dragon! It is the responsibility of any True Knight to slay any dragon he happens upon! Have at thee!" Getting back to his feet, Sir Cadogan had gotten back up and started swinging his sword, to which Harry responded by jumping up and patting the painting again, which made the knight slash some more, and on and on it went until Harry got bored, and Sir Cadogan had decided that he was a 'worthy adversary'.
All of this was very fondly remembered, and Harry would always have a special place in his heart for Sir Cadogan, even though he suspected that if there had ever been a 'real' Sir Cadogan, the painting was likely a very poor portrayal.
Which led to Harry being here, standing before Sir Cadogan again, watching the knight fumble with the straps holding his horse's saddle in place. He'd apparently gotten bored with trying to strike up conversation with Harry, who had yet to react to anything the painting had to say.
A lot of the paintings did that of late, either getting bored with trying to talk to him, or angry at him for not responding.
It wasn't really like he was trying to be rude or anything! It was just... it was as though they were trying to talk to him from across the room. A very crowded room.
A very crowded and noisy room, except there was no actual noise and they were right in front of him.
For, as Harry had discovered, he could now understand anything that just about anybody or even anything said, no matter the language... but he could no longer understand the paintings.
It hadn't happened right away. It had taken a while, but over time their 'talking' simply became background noise, and now, finally, he could no longer distinguish them from background noise.
And, he now suspected, this was probably why he'd had so much trouble with the Golden Egg. He'd been able to hear the noises it'd been making just fine, he'd simply been unable to make them out. He now suspected that if he'd still been human, he might not have had that trouble. If something had a mind and an intent that he could interpret, he could understand just about anything, but paintings were magically animated... well, paintings. And the egg had been a recording. Neither had true minds, though paintings appeared to, so he'd been unable to understand them.
In retrospect, it made perfect sense.
And so, with an apology that he wasn't entirely sure what he was making for, Harry's eyes drew to the floor with thought, and he walked away in silence.
"Leave me."
Voldemort sneered as yet another sniveling underling bowed his way out of his throne room, simpering and whimpering like some sort of unseemly dog.
He had given his underlings the... talking to that he felt they deserved. They had, as a group, been dressed down and, when he didn't feel that was enough, he'd chosen a few that he particularly disliked, and Crucio'd them just to the point where their minds almost turned to mush.
Though stopping himself was a close thing. He had to acknowledge that if he hadn't had the self-control that he'd forced himself to learn over the years, the self-control that had allowed him to survive oh so many years as a bodiless wraith, only just barely able to overpower the minds of small animals for the simple anchorage that their bodies provided, he would have lost a few of them.
Though he also had to admit that it wasn't... entirely their personal failings that had him in such a... state.
He couldn't explain it. Mostly because he hadn't yet allowed himself to dwell upon it, but he... sensed that his encounter with the Potter boy had ended in a... spectacular cock-up.
There was simply no other way to describe it. Everything had gone wrong from moment-one. And it seemed to have all started with Wormtail.
Wormtail, who had happily told his master about the 'Pink Beast' that Potter now turned into from time to time, and seemed to enjoy doing so on a regular basis.
Wormtail had described this 'Pink Beast' as being a cat, which Voldemort had understood as being the root for the rat-faced man's dislike of the boy's animagus form. So, Voldemort hadn't inquired any further, and had simply moved his plans a bit to better prepare for this.
After all, adding anything related to an animal into the mix for a very... sensitive potion, whose purpose was effectively his own reincarnation, could have far reaching, completely unknown effects.
It required the bone of his father, for it would make him his Father's Son, and it was in the bones that family ties were bound. It required the flesh of his servant, for it would make him his Servant's Master, and the flesh of one's servants was a master's right to do with as he pleases. And importantly, it required the blood of his enemy, for it was in blood where animosity was held, and in blood where enemies and... friends were kept. It was in this that the boy's blood held the sacrifice of his mudblood mother, because it was the blood that remembered this tie, so of course taking the boy's blood to have this protection for himself, as well as to circumvent said protection was vital. As it was, the same spell that had all-but killed him now protected him, and only the boy could get by it, being the only one to bear the same protection.
It tied them together, he knew that, this was part of why he made a point to plan, and attempt to follow through with the boy's death. It was too bad that he had tried to revel in his victory; if he had known, he would have simply killed him as soon as the ritual was finished and be done with it.
But again, this hadn't happened, and again it came down to information. Information he hadn't had.
And, as he'd gathered first from Wormtail's screaming as the fat, balding man tried to tearfully gasp between bouts of the Cruciatus, and later from tearing the man's mind to shreds with his most beautifully vicious Ligillimency to date, Wormtail hadn't actually known about the magical nature of the boy's Animagus.
Somehow, by some strange twist of luck, either Potter hadn't shown any such predilections before Wormtail had been run off, or the... rat's cowardice had prevented him from ever witnessing it.
It was probably the latter; from witnessing the man's memories of that year, Voldemort could quite easily see that the rat had spent most of his time hiding from cats, including the one in question, and from that fool Sirius Black, whom Voldemort now almost, almost wished had succeeded in offing his 'old friend'.
Now, it was true that adding the blood of an animal to the ritual in place of the blood of an enemy would have unknown results. Would it turn him into the same as the animal in question? Would it have the opposite effect, turning him into some sort of dog, in a fit of Yin-and-Yang madness? Would it turn him into another of a cat's enemies, and make him into a rat? It would have been fitting, considering where the 'flesh' part of the scenario had come from.
Ultimately, it would have been up to the forces of Magic to determine how such a mix-up would have come out, and anything could have happened from becoming a tree to ceasing to exist, which might have happened if Magic determined that the boy didn't have any enemies. (He was, for this reason, glad that the public had easily impressed upon the boy that they two were enemies. He didn't relish the idea of becoming nothing, or worse, becoming a bratty teenaged spit-spawn as might have happened if the boy's greater enemy happened to be one of his classmates.)
But after seeing that... creature in action, making a fool of him and all of his active Death Eaters, who even in laziness were still a force to be reckoned with, he would have been perfectly willing to take the risk if he'd known.
If he had known.
But no, instead he went out of his way to make sure that possibility wouldn't happen. Making sure Wormtail was in position ahead of time had been uncomfortable, since his infant body couldn't take care of itself and didn't much like being ignored, even if only for a moment.
Then, instructing Wormtail to use that spell the moment the portkey landed 'just in case', while successful, had contributed, though he suspected that Wormtail would have done it anyway upon seeing that form, if only because of the memories associated with it.
And, of course, it had all gone according to plan. The boy arrived, was forced back to natural form before even realizing anything was amiss, and the ritual was completed before his infant body had gone through what would have become an embarrassing display of puking all over himself and needing to be cleaned up.
He'd felt his power rise again, he'd become more than just his adult form, he'd become the monster that the boy had imagined him to be, and he'd become the fearful, imposing figure of his servant's nightmares, and he'd become the deeply detestable demon that his father undoubtedly thought of him as.
And all of this he reveled in. He didn't just feel whole again. He felt... deeper than that. He felt even more unholy than he could have ever imagined. He was a greater monster than he ever could have become naturally.
But, despite the risks, if given a chance to revise his plans, if given the chance to go back and try it with that animal form... he would have.
He would not have become that animal, he would have become that animal's enemy, which he had no idea what that enemy might entail, but it would have had to be nightmarish to be the enemy of something that could make fools of his entire assembled menagerie of Death Eaters, soft ones or not, let alone with him there, more powerful than ever yet still seeming like a child trying to levitate a feather.
And so, he had to cool himself off. He had to calm down. He had to accept that things had not gone... optimally.
He had to revise his plans. He had to see how he could... make the most of the situation.
And, his only real decision was that nothing could wait. He could not take time to build his power back to full again. He could not wait to woo more allies to his side. He could not afford to let the Potter brat grow even more in power, as he undoubtedly would if given half a chance.
No. Potter had to die.
Immediately.
End Chapter 20
No matter how much I try, I just can't seem to write any more for this chapter, which is part of what took so freaking long. I've never dealt with angst well, and this is really where it gets started so I always dreaded it. To be fair, it was actually the Ron/Hermione part that took the longest, as they refused to be written, but then when it finally did it turned out too long. Good news is that this means another chapter should be on the way soon, bad news (other than it taking so long) is that this chapter's too short now, so here's a half-Omake-half-possible-story-teaser. Hope you like it! ^^; Or skip it if you don't, which how would you know if you skipped it? *confused now*
Pink Twilight
When all was said and done, when Voldemort had been taken care of, when England was safe(ish), and when life had simply sort of... continued, Flash/Harry finally, eventually settled into a sort of routine.
And then every once in a while he would, in a fit of spastic hyperactivity, randomly decide to do something so completely different that he left everyone wondering where he'd gone, only to return after some major adventure that only he knew about.
Now, though, he was settled into his place in the Forbidden Forest, merrily patrolling the eaves of the trees, which were in their brightly colored, late Autumn plumage.
Not that he noticed the colors. Even if his color vision worked just fine, it was now quite dark so even a human wouldn't be able to see much other than shadows and the sharp lines of sleeping branches, some trees bare already and others still holding onto leaves that rustled and blew in any light breeze.
To a human, it would be creepy, even freaky, and with the added knowledge of the sorts of things that inhabited the Forbidden Forest, it would be easy for even a brave human to be on-edge, frightened, nervous, scared.
Flash, though, barely noticed any of it. Flash was satisfied that the Acromantulas were keeping to their territory, and was just thinking that he might go see how the centaurs were doing when, in the distance, he spotted a lone centaur patrol.
The centaur had stopped to see something, as it had tickled his sensed several moments ago; it wasn't to say that he was especially good with premonitions or anything of the sort, but when something at the edge of his perception had triggered his more primal reactions, that sense that most magical beings shared, he found himself curious.
So, carefully, he found where the feeling was coming from so that he could inspect it. He kept his shortbow in hand, his sword always strapped to his back, ready to be drawn at any time, his legs and back taught and ready to spring away at any time, though some part of him spoke, whispered, that whatever was coming was trustworthy.
Still, he kept his guard up, even as the feeling developed into something he could see. It started as a small, violet light, not unlike the light that the Forest Guardian used, albeit of a slightly different color.
The small point of light grew, expanding into a ring of the same violet color, although as it grew more colors appeared inside, creating a chromatic display of rings that went through the full spectrum including, at the very outer edge, a form of ultraviolet that centaurs could see which humans could not, not that this individual knew that humans couldn't see 'quelt', having never asked.
As he watched the pool of magic, it slowly resolved itself into a simple, sparkling purple that lit the clearing it had appeared in. Curious, he looked to the sky for a moment, wondering if this were some form of omen that he should report to his superiors.
The stars foretold no omens, however, good or ill, so he resolved to wait and see what would come of this particular anomaly.
Eventually something did, finally, happen, and he found himself confused.
Weren't unicorns usually silver?
He was confused for several moments before, in the light of what was obviously a portal, he took a second look as what came through. It was not a unicorn, as it had wings. And was smaller than normal.
And bright purple. Although really, the color may have been an illusion due to the color of the portal behind... her. Definitely a her. Her build may have been strange to him, but she was horse-like enough for him to tell, even without needing to catch her scent.
She also turned her eyes, gigantic and brightly lit with some unknown force (magic, most likely) on him, surprised and visibly confused, her posture changing just slightly to include nervousness. She was, if not frightened, at least confused by him, so he decided to put her at ease.
Taking a risk, he gave her a quick bow, his hind hooves accidentally kicking a fallen log behind him as he did, "Well met, fair lady." He did not bow deeply enough that she could take him by surprise if she charged him, but when he came back up it seemed to have done the trick, as she had relaxed visibly, the portal winking out of existence behind her. "My name is Sapphrone, of the Black Forest clan."
She bowed as well, her wings opening wide, showing off the fact that they were much, much smaller than those of any Pegasus he'd ever heard of, "I am Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria."
Introductions over, Sapphrone got down to business, "It is good to meet you, but for the safety of my clan I must ask: Come ye in peace?" His hands tightened unconsciously on his bow and arrow, a subtle sign that he was quite serious in his inquiry, and judging by her eyes, she noticed.
Quickly, so as not to insult him or test his patience, she responded, "I come in peace. I'm on a mission, to search for someone."
Sapphrone was curious at that, but many passed through this forest for one reason or another; it alone held perhaps more Nature magic than anywhere else in all of England. "I see. And who might you be looking for?"
"Harry Potter."
With a rustle of leaves, Flash scrambled back to his perch in a tree nearby. She was looking for him? Why?
"And why might you be looking for that one?"
"You know him?" She seemed excited from what Flash could tell, "Could you tell me where he is? He's been lost to us for a long, long time. I'm here to bring him home."
Flash watched as Sapphrone absorbed this and, eventually, came to the decision that he would allow it. "If you search for him, simply stay here, he will find you."
"What? How can you be sure? Wait!" Sapphrone, however, had already started out of the clearing, turning his back on the newcomer in a show of tentative trust that centaurs typically didn't give. Doubtless he'd be reporting this to Starcall, possibly even Crystal, though on his way out he gave Flash a hidden look, as though to say 'Will you approach her? Or leave her?'
And then he was alone with a nervous... Pegacorn? Harry wasn't really sure what to think she was, and his instincts didn't know what she was either, so he did the only thing that a curious kitten could think to do: Get closer.
As he approached silently from the trees, Flash noted that the little... pegacorn seemed to be getting nervous. Maybe she just didn't like being alone? Maybe she was antsy and couldn't sit still for very long, like he couldn't?
It didn't even occur to him that his home seemed very frightening to those that couldn't see in the dark very well.
Still curious, Harry fluttered into the canopy of the tree to her back, so that he was now just above her; this tree still had some leaves, though, so when he landed they fluttered a bit, spooking her.
"Who's there!?" Twilight spun around faster than she had in... well, a few days, actually. Pinkie had a tendency of popping up behind her at her most lax moments.
But it wasn't Pinkie behind her, it was just another spooky tree. Why, oh why did she have to appear in the middle of a dark and spooky forest? Why did it have to be dark? Why couldn't Pinkie be there to laugh away the spooks like she always did?
And she would, too. Even in another world, away from everything she knew, Pinkie would be as upbeat as ever, and just thinking that brought a smile and small, nervous laugh to Twilight's muzzle.
But, as her eyes were brought back to the bare, barely lit branches above her, the trees that seemed to be closing in on her, and the darkness that was trying to suffocate her, she couldn't help but despair that nervous laughter wasn't going to cut it.
But instead of panicking like she wanted to, she huffed irritably and reminded herself that she had magic!
She closed her eyes to concentrate, and after a few seconds her magic flared from her horn and now, just above her, there floated a bright, white light, strong enough to light up the clearing and show all the trees as just regular old trees.
Satisfied, she smiled, only to nearly jump out of her skin when she heard a giggle from just behind her, "Eeep!"
Quickly turning around, magic flaring again, she frantically searched for what'd scared her, except there was nothing there. "That's so cool!"
"Who's there!?" The magic clinging to her horn intensified. She may not have been one for very long, but she was still an Alicorn, no disembodied voice was going to scare her!
"It's me!" It sounded young. And actually, there was something else strange about it, like it was a record saying it, but wasn't actually a record, like it was fake and genuine at the same time.
Turning around again, she searched the clearing again, still trying to find where the voice was coming from, "Where are you?"
"Right up here!" She looked up and was met, face-to-paw, with something just as pink as Pinkie Pie.
Of course, being as the foot was practically stepping on her, that meant that her horn had passed literally less than an inch from its skin, a realization that instinctively made her flinch back, the magic around said horn going defensive again. "Err.."
Twilight then had the strangest sense of 'been-here-before' when the creature noticed her looking at it and looked back at her. She still wasn't sure what she was looking at, but while it had huge, bright green eyes, its most striking feature was the fact that it was bright pink, and floating! No wings! No obvious magical discharge! Just floating!
It smiled brightly, reminding Twilight of a certain pony that had been on her mind only moments before, "Hi!" That voice still sounded both real and fake at the same time, but the creature didn't seem to notice, instead exuberantly pointing at her Light Guardian, "That's so cool!"
Quickly he whipped around it, poking it and prodding it, as though trying to determine what it was, "Does it follow you around? How do you make it come off your wand like that? Is it magic? Or is it just a Special Ability? Can you teach me how to do that? Do I have to be a pegacorn to do it? Oh! Is that what you are!? A pegacorn!?" The creature zoomed straight into her face, emerald green eyes gazing expectantly into hers, looking like a curious foal and giving her a chilling feeling that she had actually met this world's Pinkie Pie.
"Er, no, I'm an Alicorn." The creature tilted its head curiously.
"What's an Alicorn?"
"I am." She frowned, backing away for a bit of space, "And yes, it is magic."
"Ooh Ooh Ooh! Does that mean you can teach me!?" It waved its foreleg in the air like an excited filly trying to get the teacher's attention. "I'm really good with magic! I bet I could learn it real fast!"
Twilight shook her head, "You would need a horn to do it." She couldn't help but smile at the little 'aww' this caused, but decided to try her luck at getting down to business, "You wouldn't happen to know where Harry Potter is, would you?"
This seemed to make it very happy, "Yeah! Yeah-yeah-yeah! I'm Harry Potter!" The creature seemed very pleased with itself after saying this, still just floating there like some kind of ghost.
Twilight, though frowned, unamused. "No, you're not."
It frowned petulantly, "Yes I am! Watch!" It then fell to the ground, glowing brightly with every color of the rainbow before growing several times its previous size, taking an upright stance while stretching until it was taller than her by at least several hooves.
Then the light faded and in its wake was a smiling, green-eyed human with messy black hair and a faint mark on his forehead.
"See? Told you."
She blinked at the random change for several seconds; she noted that he'd randomly produced clothing to cover his spontaneously human form, for some reason taking on the form of thick robes with an emblem of some animals crawling over a capital 'H'. She was sure it had some significance, but to her it was barely worth notice.
Still frowning slightly, she shook her head, "No no, Harry's an Alicorn, like me. Harry isn't even his real name."
The human blinked curiously at her, his protests dying on his lips at her assertion. "An Alicorn, like you?" She nodded decisively.
"Yes, like me. A horn and wings, just like mine." She nodded at her wings, which if she was honest she still wasn't used to having, let alone using, before another bright flash caught her attention, only for another face to be shoved into hers.
"Like this?"
"Eep!" Surprised, Twilight fell back on her rump, wings flaring as she fell, trying to keep her balance.
The reason for her surprise was obvious, though, given that she was now looking at some crazy mirror-image of herself, except in pink. "See? I'm like you now!" The mirror-image pranced in a small circle for a few moments, her grin and coloring making her look far more like Pinkie Pie than Twilight Sparkle, a comparison seared even more strongly into the poor mare's brain when the mimic stopped with a confused look on her face, bright green eyes looking contemplatively off into space, "Although, you said Harry wasn't his real name?" She tilted her head before looking the real Twilight in the eyes, her mane fluttering to the side, its single purple streak mirroring the real Twilight's pink stripe.
Suddenly self-conscious but not wanting to show it, Twilight blew a strand of her mane out of her face before standing, shaking the jitters from her frame, "His name is Prince Emerald Dream, and I've come to retrieve him."
"Aaahh, okay, I guess it's not me, then, 'cause my other name's just Flash." She nodded sagely, as though some great, perplexing mystery had been solved, before brightening considerably again, "But hey! I can totally help you look! I'm really good at looking for things! Especially people!"
Twilight waved the offer off, "No, thank you. But tell me, just what sort of creature are you!? How can you change forms like that, are you a Changeling?"
Flash blinked, returning to his natural form, "Huh? I dunno what a Changeling is," he shrugged, getting a mental image of a deformed, green version of the pony before him before getting all happy again, brightly announcing that, "I'm a Mew!" He took a very roguish stance, grinning while waving a finger, "It's kinda what Mews do. That and whatever else an' stuff."
To Harry that was that, and his sage nod was all that Twilight needed to know that this 'Flash' felt he'd described everything she would need to know.
It wasn't enough, her natural curiosity rearing its ugly head, but then she reminded herself that she had a mission and became all business again. "Right."
Shaking her head, she attempted to think of what might have gone wrong. The first thing she could think of was the simplest, and most likely explanation. She had, quite simply, not taken into account that there might possibly be more than one 'Harry Potter' out there, and without a real way of choosing between them, magic had simply chosen one and led her there.
It wasn't a perfect theory, but it was at least something to work on, and since this particular avenue didn't seem to be producing results, she decided there was no reason to hang around. "Right, okay. I'm sorry, but since the Harry I'm looking for isn't here, I'm going to go home and try again; I'm sure I'll be able to fix the tracking matrix with a bit of tweaking. I'm sorry to have disturbed you Mr. Flash." She flung her head back, discharging a bit of magic to get her portal started before focusing her concentration of forcing it to do what she wanted, causing it to grow.
"Aww, you're leaving? You won't stay for a little while?"
"No, I'm sorry, I really need to find Prince Emerald, it's very important so I can't delay."
"Okay," He sounded so down that she felt kind of bad leaving him behind. "I'll see you later Alicorn lady!"
She smiled as he waved brightly at her, giving him one last nod before turning to her now fully formed portal, "I'm sure you will. Farewell." She then went through the portal, feeling it close behind her as she greeted Princess Luna, who was acting as anchor for her return portal, as well as guard for her as she studied and utilized the magics required for inter-dimensional travel.
Now quite tired, Twilight warmly greeted the elder Alicorn, "Princess Luna."
"Greetings, Twilight Sparkle. I presume you were unsuccessful in your search?" Twilight was glad to see understanding in the elder pony's eyes, but still sighed with disappointment.
"No. I found A Harry Potter, but not the correct one. I did not account for there to be more than one; hopefully it won't take too long to find a way to narrow my search."
"Ooh! Oooh ooh! I can help if you want!"
Twilight froze, seeing Luna's eyes tracking something just over her shoulders, and dreading the next few words from her mouth, "And who might this be?"
Looking over her shoulder, Twilight gasped, hopping away from the pink ball of energy, "You! How did you get here!?" She ignored Luna chuckling lightly behind her in favor of frowning at 'Flash' giggling in front of her, "Did you follow me through my portal? I can't guarantee I can get you back home!"
"Na-uh!" He shook his head vigorously, happily assuring her that he was still fine, or didn't care, Twilight couldn't tell. "I told you! I'm really good at finding people! And! And-and I told you I'd see you later! Right?"
Twilight stuttered in something between mortification at the idea of others meeting this strange creature, and in mortification of what his presence in Equestria might mean; she didn't think it would survive two Pinkie Pies! "W-wha, b-but, w-why, you!"
"My, Twilight Sparkle, such an interesting friend thou hast found."
Dread creeping up on her, Twilight could only switch her gaze back and forth between the two figures near her, until she finally groaned, bowing her head to the inevitable.
She only hoped Equestria would survive the night.
Just a little not-totally-plot-important-but-still-technically-h appens teaser for a storyline I've been tossing around in my head for a while now. Over the course of the storyline it crosses MLP with about a bazilliondy different things (actually, only three so far that I can remember), one of which obviously being Harry Potter. Mew!Harry being the closest it gets to being crossed with Pokemon, of course.
Also, while it probably doesn't need to be said, if you have objections to MLP:FiM... er... how are you still here? It's been twenty-plus chapters of Harry flying around as a bright pink ball of childish energy, if MLP:FiM is objectionable how could you have stomached the rest of the random stupidity I've spouted out already?
If you like MLP:FiM, however, or at least tolerate it... or even don't care, I hope you at least found this little Omake-like-thing amusing. ^^; Next chapter will be far, far more serious, I'm afraid, and probably the one after that, too. Not much left in this story at this point, here's pulling for me to actually finish it before the next decade. ^^;
Also: Sorry 'bout that.
Alex Ultra: Never Doubt The Pinkie
LATER