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Transfigurations was another tedious class, with a lot of technical note-taking and warnings. Even the fun part was a bit boring. Now that they had all mastered changing a match into a needle, they worked on speeding up the process and making the needles fancier than before. For some reason, Professor McGonagall seemed tense whenever she looked at Harry and the fillies, as if she expected something to explode at any moment.

Harry couldn’t help but wonder if the Headmaster had told her about the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ reputation back in Ponyville that Rarity had recited that first day at the Weasleys’ farm. Of maybe he had shown her the letter from the Princesses.

Still. They were in her classroom. Under her supervision. And this wasn’t Potions, after all. What could the CMC possibly do in her class that would cause a commotion? He stopped a moment and looked at Scootaloo’s concentrated stare at her needle. Sweetie Belle seemed to be staring out the window, until Harry noticed the faint flashes of reflected light. On closer examination he thought he could see the stitched outline of a carousel forming up on the curtains. Apple Bloom was staring at the ceiling, apparently lost in thought. Then he noticed that she had acquired a box of matches from somewhere and was launching the finished needles at a wooden beam overhead. When he looked closer, he could see she was building a tiny wall of needles that formed her initials.

He sighed. Who was he kidding? They were the CMC. They could turn anything into a disaster if given only a few minutes inattention by the adults. He looked around the room carefully, checking for any hidden jars of sap or other things that could draw the attention of his herd-mates and become a lesson in how to turn harmless objects into chain-disasters.

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/406279/57/if-wishes-were-ponies/57-communication-thats-the-key