Short shorter yet shorter...heheh...oops?
I really am grateful for all the attention I've seen this story getting, both here and on Ao3. It just doesn't seem possible, but it's happening!
Review Response Time!
Sunshinemoonpop: The answer to your question lies below.
Dunkaccino: Again, answered in the chapter for you!
Boots: Your first question has awoken the headcannon monster. At Hogwarts, there is a magical book that has the names of all of the school's potential applicants written down shortly after their births. When the name is written down, it also locks in a specific magical signature to that name. Eleven years later, when the owls are sent out, they are sent looking for that exact magical signature. As the owls bring back the letters, they are scanned by magic, picking out the signatures that have replied and, if a staff member is requested, sent to the headmaster. When Harry became Mistral in this story, his magical signature was altered, making it seem like he was no longer Harry Potter. HOWEVER! His magical signature, while not similar enough for an owl to find him, is still barely close enough to Harry's that the admittance magic had a stroke and believed that both signatures were accepted. As for the second question...we'll see :)
This review from EmpoleonNerd wasn't really a question, but it made me laugh for about five minutes straight after reading it: COME ATTEND PAPYRUS'S ADVANCED PUZZLE CONSTRUCTION FOR CRITICAL MINDS CLASS!
Also, thank you to Ender the multiverse Detective, Arashi - IV of VI, HourglassMadness, Guest, MangaArtist36, Firehedgehog, Spyash2, crazy dragon ninja, Omegafrost, DarkKitsuneFluffy, xfoxgamerx, AlloraStar217, Pikadrew9000, silentstrixe, and Nlou for reviewing! It really does mean a lot to me!
Bumbles stood up once more as the last of the desserts vanished from the tables. Immediately, the Great Hall fell silent. Swiftly, Papyrus gave Mistral one last hug, hooked his arm around Sans, and rushed up to his place at the head table.
"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered," Bumbles announced. "I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He glanced at a pair of identical humans sitting at the Gryffindor table.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Mistral flinched, knowing that he would always be breaking that rule.
"As you may have heard, over the summer a species that has been trapped underground for quite some time has resurfaced. To help integrate them fully into society, it has been decided to have several of these 'Monsters' both teach and learn here. They are just as human as you or I, and are to be treated as such.
"On that note, there are a few changes to our staffing this year. Taking over for Defense Against the Dark Arts is Professor Quirinus Quirrell." A man with a turban wrapped around his head stood up for a brief moment before sitting back down. "To teach a new elective for third years and up, Monster Culture, we have Professor Toriel Dree-"
"Just Toriel," Toriel cut off the headmaster, her expression strained. "Just Toriel is perfectly fine."
He nodded. "Professor Toriel. Our last two new additions, Professors Papyrus Fortissimo and Sans Pianissimo, shall be working together to teach Soul Magicks."
Papyrus was practically glowing as he jumped to his feet. His soul projected his theme loudly, letting it echo through the room. "HELLO! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND THIS IS MY BROTHER, SANS! SAY HELLO, SANS!"
Sans, who was still sitting, waved lazily. "hello, sans."
The energetic skeleton groaned. "WHY MUST YOU ALWAYS DO YOUR BEST TO GIVE A TERRIBLE FIRST IMPRESSION?"
"because you tell me to put more backbone into it."
"THAT DOESN'T MEAN SHARING YOUR HORRIBLE SENSE OF HUMOR WITH EVERYONE WE MEET!"
Sans put a hand over his ribcage in mock-hurt. "come on, my puns aren't bad..." He slowly pulled a piece of paper with 'puns' written on it in comic sans.
"NO! DON'T YOU DARE, SANS!"
Riiip. "they're tearable."
Papyrus began screaming.
Bumbles cleared his throat, silencing the two skeletons. Papyrus sat down and his theme awkwardly died down. "Continuing on, Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams would contact Madame Hooch.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Mistral grinned and pulled a small phone out of one of his cloak's many inner pockets and texted Sans.
mistral: 50g says once undyne hears, she goes and takes whatevers there head on :)
big bro: bet paps not me. i know when its not worth it :P
mistral: k
Grinning mischievously, he texted Papyrus.
mistral: 50g says once undyne hears, she goes and takes whatevers there head on :)
tall bro: MISTRAL, YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT YOU GAMBLING!
Nope. Mistral stopped that conversation right there. He didn't need to feel his brother's crushing disappointment. Instead, he texted Alphys.
mistral: 50g says undyne does something potentially dangerous in the 1st 20 mins shes here
alph: you're at a school I accept
Mistral grinned before texting Sans once more.
mistral: got alph
Sans chuckled, earning a glare from Papyrus
"This is the Common Room. You will be spending any time not in classes, at meals, or in the library, here. Dormitories for boys are up the staircase to your left. Girls, the same on the right. Any questions?"
"w-what about f-frisk?"
"What about Frisk?"
"frisk needs a room, too."
"Frisk, are you as boy or a girl?"
"they're neither."
"Mistral, was it? I believe Frisk can speak for...himself. Frisk, you're a boy, right?"
"no, they're not."
*You say that you will room with Mistral.
"y-you sure, frisk?"
You should at be with at least one person you know while we're here.
"...thanks..."
Through the first week, it was discovered that, yes, monsters could mimic the wizards' version of magic to an extent. Monster Kid was given a pass on the rule against magic in the halls so he could levitate whatever couldn't fit in his bag. Toriel didn't have many children in her class, but she was more than happy to teach those who were there. Papyrus showed Mistral the location of his and Sand's living space during breakfast on the first day, and all three skeletons had taken to eating their meals there.
On the first Tuesday of the school year, a high-pitched yell broke the morning stillness. "HELLO, CLASS, AND WELCOME TO YOUR FIRST MANDATORY SOUL MAGICKS MORNING EXERCISE CLASS!"
Practically everyone groaned at the sheer amount of energy Papyrus had so early. Said skeleton was wearing his jogboy outfit, and seemed too cheerful. The class had almost every Hogwarts student gathered, save...
"Where are the bloody monsters?" a redheaded first year asked, irritation obvious in his voice.
The curse went completely over Papyrus's skull. "MONSTERS AND HUMANS AREN'T THE SAME, FROM WHAT I'VE HEARD. HUMANS CAN BENEFIT FROM EXERCISE AT ANY AGE, BUT THE MONSTERS ENROLLED HERE ARE TOO YOUNG FOR IT TO HELP THEM, SO THEY ARE NOT HERE."
One of the older redheads raised his hand. "Is their age something that should stop us from pranking them?"
Papyrus shifted awkwardly. "IT WOULD BE BEST TO NOT INCLUDE THEM...BUT IF YOU MUST, BE SURE NOT TO INVOLVE MAGIC."
A pale, blonde first year snorted. "What makes the freaks so weak?" he jeered.
For the first time since he had come to Hogwarts, Papyrus snapped. "SAY WHAT YOU WILL ABOUT ME, BUT DO NOT." Papyrus marched up to the student. "CALL." His skull froze in a dark glare. "MY BROTHER." His right eye socket lit up orange. "A FREAK. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
The human whimpered something about his father.
"Do you understand?"
The human ran for the castle, screaming in terror.
Almost immediately, Papyrus's cheery disposition had returned. "NOW THAT THAT IS OUT OF THE WAY, LET'S BEGIN!"
"Why the bloody hell do the monsters get to sleep in while we don't?"
"You heard the skelly, Ron-"
"-honestly, do you want to scar-"
"-little versions of our dear old-"
"-Professor Papyrus-"
"-for the rest of their lives?"
That afternoon, Mistral was the first one to enter the classroom chosen for Soul Magicks. He sat at one of the desks near the front of the room and swiftly fell asleep.
Slowly, more Gryffindors trickled in. Most steered clear of the student that had yet to show his face, but Frisk and the human from the train happily sat by the sleeping skeleton. The seconds ticked by, bringing the class closer and closer to starting.
Fourteen after one came, and there was still no sign of either of the elder skeletons. At exactly 1:15, the door flew open and an almost 8-bit bass line began blaring. "HELLO, HUMANS AND MISTRAL!" Said skeleton jolted into awareness, nearly falling out of his seat. Entirely ignoring his brother's antics, Papyrus marched to the front of the room and wrote his name on the classroom's blackboard in large, uppercase, papyrus-font letters. "I APOLOGIZE FOR SANS NOT BEING HERE, BUT THERE ARE SOME THINGS THAT NOT EVEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM ABLE TO CONTROL."
The Gryffindors seemed torn between shock and laughter. Almost no one could tell whether he was joking or not. Finally, the female from the train raised her hand. "Professor Fortissimo?"
Papyrus leered in the direction of the door, as if trying to see something through the wooden panel.
Mistral cleared his nonexistent throat. "hey papyrus!" he called out. "a human's got a question for you!"
"HEY! IN CLASS, I AM PROFESSOR PAPYRUS!" the older skeleton corrected indignantly.
"the human's still got a question." Frisk could hear the deeply hidden amusement in Mistral's voice.
"OOOH! YES, HUMAN? WHAT IS YOUR QUESTION?" Papyrus closed the distance between himself and the human in two strides. He posed heroically before the desk. "I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL DO MY BEST TO GIVE YOU AN AGREEABLE ANSWER!"
The human leaned away nervously. "Y-yes, I was wondering if you could t-tell us the course aims?"
"tibia honest, we're winging it."
All heads turned to the short skeleton sitting in the front of the class, his feet up on the teacher's desk. "I AM VERY GLAD THAT YOU ARE HERE, SANS, BUT THE RULES OF HOME ALSO APPLY HERE."
Sans flashed his perma-grin to the class before closing his eye sockets. "ok."
Papyrus groaned. "THAT MEANS YOU CANNOT HAVE YOUR FEET UP ON THE FURNITURE."
Mistral grinned under his hood as Sans repeated, "ok."
"MOVE YOUR FEET!"
"ok." Sans's feet shifted an inch to the right.
"YOU KNOW THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT! PUT THEM BACK ON THE FLOOR!"
Sans complied. "ok."
"AND DON'T PUT THEM BACK!"
Feet up. "ok."
"SANS!"
Frisk grinned. Passive aggressive arguments?
Mistral smirked back. "you can't escape them that easily."
"Dumbledore's mental if he thinks those monsters can teach us anything!"
"I, for one, think that Professor Sans and Professor Papyrus need to focus more if they want to teach us properly. They don't even have a set plan in place!"
*You say that Sans and Papyrus are great teachers.
"yeah! they're both trying their...well, papyus is trying his hardest!"
"Who asked you three, anyway?
A white sock was discovered right outside the Great Hall as students and teachers alike began filing in for dinner. When Toriel noticed it, she kindly informed someone who would do something about it...who then grabbed the person responsible and held him over the sock as though he was a dog being shown the bad they had done.
"SANS! PICK UP YOUR SOCK! IT IS BAD ENOUGH THAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS AT HOME!"
"ok, paps."
"NOW, SANS!"
"i'll do it later."
"NO, YOU WON'T!"
"shame. guess it's staying there, then."
Filch came around later to pick up the sock only to find it impossible to pick up.
It was still there the next morning, despite the nonstop efforts of teachers (read: not Sans or Papyrus) to remove it.
At Hogwarts, each teacher seemed to have their opinions on the monsters in their classes. Some, like Professor Sprout and Professor Sinistra, didn't seem to care what race their students were so long as they worked hard. Professor Flitwick had made sure to treat his less-than-human students nicely, giving them more leeway than humans if they were unable to perform a certain charm.
During the first Transfiguration practical lesson, Professor McGonagall kept a close eye on the monsters. To Mistral (and Sans and Papyrus, when they both tried), it was simple enough to transfigure a pin into a needle. Later on, however, he found out that both Monster Kid and Fire Girl were unable to shape their magic in such a way to get it to work. McGonagall was able to spot their inability and allowed the two to drop the course.
When the dreaded Potions class finally came, Mistral was nervous. During his time studying in the library, he always heard the older students warning the first years of his favoritism of Slytherins, and of his hatred of Gryffindors. Not only that, but Mistral had no idea how the human would react to monsters, so he would have to remain on guard for most of the class period. If only Fire Girl and Monster Kid didn't have Potions Friday afternoon...
Professor Snape, the Potions master, was a tall, pale human with greasy, black hair. He seemed to glare at all of the Gryffindors equally, so Mistral was thankful for that. When he got to Frisk, however, he paused. "Frisk Dreemurr," he said, "our new celebrity, seeing how Harry Potter was unable to grace us with his presence this year."
Frisk smiled and had a text box appear over the workstation they were sharing with Mistral. *You tell Professor Snape that you are here.
The professor remained emotionless as he stared at them. After a few moments, he broke his gaze and continued down the list. Finally, he reached another name that pulled Mistral from his thoughts. "Mistral Pianissimo...Gryffindor's monster."
Mistral nodded, grateful that his hood was up and able to block the stares he knew were directed towards him. "i am here," he said simply.
"Mr. Pianissimo, I do not allow students' faces to be hidden during class," the teacher hinted.
"i...i'd prefer to have my hood up, professor snape."
Almost everyone watched the exchange with wide eyes. If Mistral won the argument, a student would have gotten away with talking back to Snape. If Snape won, they would, for the first time, be able to see Mistral with his hood down.
"That was not a request, Mr. Pianissimo."
Mistral narrowed his eye sockets, not that anyone was able to seem more than his pupil lights. "i am leaving my hood up."
"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Pianissimo," Snape said coldly.
"i apologize," Mistral spat in an equally cold tone, "but i don't care about points."
Snape frowned almost imperceptibly. "You will take off your hood, Mr. Pianissimo."
"i will leave it up, Professor Snape."
The professor glared daggers at Mistral. The skeleton met his gaze for a few moments before having to break it. Hesitantly, he brought up his gloved hands and pulled down his hood.
Almost immediately, Mistral felt almost every set of eyes in the classroom land on him. A quick glance around the room told him that the Slytherins were disgusted, and the Gryffindor reaction was...mixed. A human girl that Mistral recognized as the one he had pointed in Frisk's direction on the train looked fascinated, while the others were either shocked or amazed. Frisk merely stared at their friend worriedly. Unconsciously, Mistral began reaching to pull his hood back up.
"Hood down, Mr. Pianissimo."
Flinching, Mistral let his hands fall into his lap.
It was official. Snape was a mean human.
"...do you think it eats?"
"Eats? How do you think it moves?"
"It's bad enough that there are two skeletons teaching one of the classes, but I have to share a room with a bloody corpse!"
"I think it's rather interesting. How would it be held together? How does it think, because skeletons obviously don't have brains."
"Who asked you, Hermione?"
Golden beams lit up the hall in a perpetual twilight, almost as though signifying the end of a long day. Mistral thought it seemed almost poetic; the journey of the Brother Killer was coming to a close. Either they would press on, finishing their eradication of the monster species, or they would die. Again.
Mistral clearly remembered watching Sans kill them well over a hundred times, but whenever their soul shattered, the world would warp back to a point before the Brother Killer entered the entrance to Hotland.
At the thought of his eldest brother, he absentmindedly started rubbing the cuff of the blue, dusty hoodie he wore under his cloak. Mistral's other arm reached out from his cloak's comfort to latch onto the end of the pale red scarf wrapped around his cervical vertebrae. To think, his brothers had been laughing with him merely hours before, only to be nothing.
The dull, steady thud of footsteps echoed down the sunlit corridor, and Mistral forced a solemn tune to begin playing. "do you love being killed, dirty brother killer?" the skeleton taunted, feeling only slightly drained.
The footsteps stopped. Mistral looked up, his eye sockets void as they met two red orbs.
"because of you, monsterkind is as good as extinct. you remember sans, right? that second brother you killed?"
No response.
"he was lazy, yes, but he was a good brother. he tried his best to keep me happy...brought me and papyrus, my other brother, all over the underground for spontaneous trips. i knew what he was doing, though..."
An irritated glare was directed at the skeleton. He pointedly ignored it.
"of course, sans couldn't keep me away from the human this time. he just had me promise to not confront you...i guess i've been breaking that one, huh? the way i see it, this is going to end in 1 of 2 ways: 1, you dust me and go on to destroy everyone else. 2, i dust you, you stay dead, and i fall down in a few days."
Silence.
"hey, don't look so shocked. my brothers are d-dust, and they were the only ones that c-cared a-about me." Mistral's voice wavered, as though stating it made it seem more real. "what do i have to live for with those who c-cared about me, huh?" Tears had started running down his skull, his right pupil glowing a sickening green.
The music playing stopped. Suddenly, a foreboding tune, Bonetrousle, Sans's relaxed theme, and a lone trumpet all began playing at once in a symphony of discord. The parts fought for control before stopping completely, then playing as a song that Napstablook had told Mistral was called The Song That Might Play When You Fight Sans.
The Brother Killer's soul was ripped from their chest, immediately flashing from red to green. Through sheer determination, they forced a magical shield to appear on their arm to protect them from Mistral's attacks. Without warning, Mistral's left pupil lit back up and they were sent flying into the bone-covered ceiling. There was a small ding as their soul shattered.
"please," Mistral muttered, "let me fall in peace."
Reality warped. The Brother Killer stalked into the hall, a scowl set on their face. The knife in their hand gleamed menacingly despite the thick layer of dust covering it.
"...you know, i've had people, no, humans, call me a lot of different things before I fell down here. boy, monster, worthless, freeloader...there's bone title that i believe is better suited for you, though. Freak." Mistral's pupils vanished and a grin eerily similar to Sans's froze itself onto Mistral's face. "I know now that I am not as freak, because one of the true freaks of the world is standing before me. And I am not going to left you f***ing pass."
The four songs began playing once more. This time, however, the one song that didn't seem to fit was trying to overpower the others, throwing them all into disarray. Sans's theme backed off within seconds while Bonetrousle and the trumpet piece (which was something that Mistral thought he should have remembered) began fighting for dominance.
As the songs warred with each other, Mistral fell to his knees, screaming in agony. His soul, a pale green, upside-down heart with a faint line down its center, was forced out of his rib cage.
Confused, they checked him. "Mistral," the voiced recited. "3ATK, 1DEF. His soul is tearing itself apart."
The skeleton's soul was, in fact, beginning to splinter and stretch, distorting the small, weak thing. Mistral's vision blurred for a moment before clearing. Standing before him were Papyrus, Sans, and a sad-looking skeleton with two deep cracks in his skull. Both Sans and Papyrus remained in place, but the third skeleton stepped forward and gripped Mistral's shoulders. "I AM PROUD OF YOU, BUT YOU MUST REST NOW...SON."
Wearily, Mistral smiled. "yes, father." He walked towards his brothers, each step making his head feel clearer and murkier at the same time. He leaned into his brothers' welcoming arms, too far gone to feel his body disintegrating.
Mistral was dust before he hit the floor.
Mistral jolted upright in his bed, blue and green tears falling freely. He yanked his cloak up from its position as a blanket and wrapped it snugly around his shoulders. Even with his cloak's comfort, the soft snoring of the several humans also in the room set Mistral on edge. He just couldn't stay there.
With a nervous shiver, Mistral vanished from his dorm.
So...nightmares are a thing. The songs that play during said nightmare (not including The Song That Might Play When You Fight Sans) are: Dark, Darker, Yet Darker Reorchestrated, Bonetrousle, sans, and At Vance - Beethoven, 5th Symphony.
Sans nicknames you one time and Mistral makes it official. Congratulations, Headmaster Bumbles.
The sock thing hit me while I was writing the scene for the Soul Magicks class (which was originally supposed to be before the Mandatory Soul Magicks Morning Exercise class). Sans and Papyrus are good at commandeering the plot, but I'll allow it so long as they let me finish the scene properly.
I HAVE A NEW LAPTOP NOW! WOOT! Expect updates to...not really speed up, but be a bit better quality and a bit longer.
Now that the aforementioned event has happened, I can actually get tumblr to work more smoothly now, so that means I'll actually be updating more at this site: darkphoenix512. tumblr. com
I apologize for the dorm dialogue, but I honestly struggled with that. I tried, please don't yell at me too much...(slowly fades from visible spectrum)