Harry Potter and the Carnivorous Pony

“Where’s Seamus?” Ron asked Harry as they changed into their pajamas late that night. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him since the Hogwarts Express.” It was true. The common room had been unusually quiet, with Dean spending the night in the hospital wing and Neville asleep on his four-poster bed. Harry had just began to reply when a great thumping, clattering, and shouts of “Ow! Bloody—ow!” reached their ears. Neville sat bolt upright and was hit in the face by his shoe (which Ron, having found under his bed, had tossed carelessly towards him) and fell off the bed. Ron and Harry, the only two both present and uninjured, rushed down the steps and saw Seamus hopping towards them on his left leg.

Ron stared. “What the bloody hell are you doing?” he asked. “Will you quit jumping like—that’s not what I meant!” he said quickly as Seamus tripped over an armchair and fell into the fireplace.

“Help—me!” he coughed. Harry pulled him out of the ashes.

“Seamus,” Harry grunted, half-throwing his friend into a maroon wingback armchair, “would you mind—what happened?” he said, stunned.

Ron had noticed, too. “Blimey! What happened?” he repeated, gawking at Seamus’ lack of right leg.

“You tell me!” Seamus exclaimed emphatically. “I was on my way to the hospital wing to see Dean when I heard Hagrid whistling just outside the front doors. I thought I’d just step out to say hi, you know, be friendly and all that, but I had just reached the door when I heard hooves and felt something slam into my side. Then I felt teeth bite down on my leg, and I looked and saw this massive black horse thing leaning over me and—and—well, I blacked out.

“Madame Pomfrey heard me yelling and carried me back to the hospital wing, but when I asked her about the horse thing and how it got in, she said she hadn’t seen anything. Anyway, she stopped it from bleeding, but she can’t replace my leg. She says regrowing bones is one thing, but flesh is a different story.” Seamus stopped, looking confused and proud at all the attention he was receiving.

“How did you get up here, though?” Ron asked. “I mean, one leg and everything, must be bloody well near impossible to climb stairs.”

“It is. I convinced Madame Pomfrey to use a Hover charm on me, and I got halfway up here when that idiot horse found me again!” He jumped up, promptly falling over again and landing on the floor. “So I fell and started to run—I mean, hop back to the common room. And—er—here I am,” he concluded.

Just then Hermione flounced down the stairs, awakened by the noise. “What is that awful noise?” she called, then, seeing Seamus on the floor, added, “and what are you three doing?”

“Seamus’s gone and lost himself a leg,” Ron said. The three of them pestered him with questions until two in the morning, but to no avail. The mystery of the carnivorous pony remained at a standstill until breakfast, when Hermione bustled into the Great Hall, a massive book in her hands. “Thestrals!” she exclaimed, slamming the book down on the edge of Ron’s plate and catapulting his bacon onto Dennis Creevey. Ron muttered an apology and turned to Hermione.

“What was that?” he said, dazedly plucking more bacon from the basket.

“Thestrals!” Hermione shoved him over and sat down impatiently. “I was in the library researching Erumpents for some extra credit work, and I came across this. Look! ‘Thestrals, though only visible to those who have seen death, are among the most brilliant and terrifying magical creatures in the world. Thestrals have teeth as sharp as knives used to rip flesh from bone and—oh, this is absolutely revolting, but it all fits! Harry’s seen Sir—seen someone die, that’s why he can see them.”

“And what makes you think I can see them?” Harry said, indignant.

“Here it says they pull the so-called ‘horseless carriages’ at Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. There’s a picture of one here, I can’t see it, though, the only death I’ve ever seen is my rabbit Snuggles.”

Ron chortled, spitting pumpkin juice onto Seamus, who had been trying without success to sit on the bench without kicking anyone or falling over. “If you don’t eat more politely, Ron, you’ll be losing a lot of friends.” She moved to a sit considerably far from Ron’s spewing range.

“So this means,” Ron said thoughtfully, ignoring the sniggers induced by Hermione’s comment, “Seamus had seen someone snuff it?”

“Obviously, Ron,” Hermione sighed. “One of you will have to ask him, but do it carefully; you don’t want to offend him."

"Oi! Finnigan!" Ron spit bits of egg onto Lavender Brown, who looked utterly disgusted. Hermione hissed, "Ron, I didn't mean now!" but drew her head away as Seamus approached.

"You know that pony thing you saw? Apparently only people who've seen death can see it. Who died?" Hermione made a noise of frustration. Seamus looked away and blinked.

"It's hard to talk about. I was seven years old, and me dad—he bought me a flobberworm. Algie, I called him." Seamus sniffed, wiping his eyes. "One day he got out of his cage and I—I stepped on him." He paused. "I think I'll go back to the common room now," he said softly.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione said disdainfully, "you have about as much tact as a flobberworm! And you, Harry—" she turned to him. "You should have stopped him! Honestly, I don't know what's wrong with you two!" Hermione sputtered scathingly, prancing out after Seamus.

"What's she got against flobberworms?" Ron asked Harry. "Seamus reckons they're good pets… I never knew he was so pathetic, though. Mind you, he's always been a bit off his rocker…"

"But the horse—it can't be a thestral, can it?" Harry interjected as Ron paused to shove an entire pumpkin muffin into his mouth.

"Mth ghmmt?" Ron attempted to say. Harry inferred this meant something along the lines of "Why not?" and didn't wait for his ginger friend to chew before continuing. "Hermione's rabbit died, didn't it, and she saw it happen. But she can't see the thestrals. Seamus can see them, and the only thing he's ever seen die is a flobberworm. It just doesn't fit."

"Yeah, mate, well, why don't you just ask Seamus if he saw the things pulling the carriages?" Ron said. "Then you'll know for sure whether or not what he was was a thestral."

Harry stared at the reason spouting from his normally dim comrade. "Ron, you're bloody brilliant! What happened to you?" he said in awe. "I've got to go!" Harry sprinted to the common room, ignoring Ron's calls of "What do you mean, 'what happened?'" Walking in on Ginny and Dean snuggled cozily in the same armchair, Harry once again suppressed his urge to interrupt their rendezvous by throttling Dean with his bare hands and instead ran to the dormitory. He threw open the door with a dramatic gesture just as Seamus was coming out. "Seamus, we need to talk! Come on, get up," he added, impatiently watching him stand. "And when are they going to get you a fake leg? This falling all over is really irritating me."

"Next week, I hope," he said. "What was it you needed to talk about?"

"Did you see the thestr—the things pulling the horseless carriages yesterday evening?"

Seamus looked as if Harry had just asked him to dance the polka around the Great Hall in nothing but a kilt. It was strange seeing someone missing a leg and covered with bruises more uncomfortable than normal.

"Er, Harry, you do realise that the horseless carriages, well, they're horseless, don't you?"

"Right, yeah, of course," Harry lied. "And one more thing. Was the horse you saw… well, did it look like a skeleton?"

"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" Seamus said uncertainly. "It was just a black horse with huge wings. That's it."

"Thanks a lot, Seamus," Harry grouched. He returned to the common room and to his surprise found Ron and Hermione returning from breakfast. "Ron—why are you back already?" Harry queried.

"Hermione came back down just after you left, to get that book she left in the bacon grease. I told her what you were doing and she really wants to know—"

"Did he see the thestrals after all?" she squealed anxiously. "What did he say?"

Harry felt guilty as he imagined her excited face falling when he told her they hadn't actually discovered Seamus's attacker. "He can't see them. Listen, Hermione, I'm going to need to ask you a favor. Ron and I've got Quidditch tryouts, but you have a free Saturday, and since classes haven't started yet, could you research flying horses for me in the library?"

Harry hadn't seen her that happy since she punched Malfoy in the face in her third year.