Bella Broomstick #2: School Spells

My foster parents dropped me at Person school for the very first time.
“Have a brilliant day, Bella!” they said as we found my new classroom at Merrymeet School.
My cuddly foster mom, Aunty Rose, f lung her arms around me and gave me a huge, squeezy hug. Sometimes she smells of strawberries. This morning it was peaches and cream. . . . I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how delicious Person lotions and potions can smell. I used to live with mean witchy Aunt Hemlock in the Magic Realm. Her idea of a gorgeous potion was a grow-your-own-wart cream!
“Don’t get up to any mischief, Bella!” My foster dad, Uncle Martin, held up his hand for a high five and then wiggled his fingers like we always do.
“See you later,” I said, trying to sound brave as my new teacher, Ms. Marker, showed me to my seat. The last time I had been in a classroom was to take the entrance exam for Creepy Castle School for Witches and Wizards. I nearly exploded the whole dungeon by mistake.
At least there won’t be any magic here at Merrymeet School, I thought. But as Ms. Marker finished taking attendance, she gave us a different kind of task.
“I want you to write a story, class,” she said, pointing to the title on the board.

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

Tumbling terrapins! What was I supposed to write about? Could I describe the time Aunt Hemlock took me and her magic chameleon, Wane, to pick fungus in the deep, dark Forest of Doom?
Or the time I was taking a bath in the swamp and accidentally washed my face with a toad?
Perhaps not! Nobody here in the Person World is even supposed to know I am a witch.
After ten minutes, all I had managed to write was my name.
 I twiddled my fluffy pink flamingo pen. I was so busy thinking about what to say, I didn’t even notice I had started to doodle on the empty page. . . .
“What’s that?” Piers Seymour, the nosy boy who lives next door to me, peered over from his table.
“Nothing!” I said, quickly crumpling the paper into a ball. Aunt Hemlock says if any Persons find out I really am a witch, they’ll boil me in a pot. Or worse, she’ll drag me back to the Magic Realm to live with her.
I reached for a fresh sheet of paper. But it was hopeless. I still couldn’t think where to start my story.
“Finished, Ms. Marker!” Piers Seymour’s arm shot up in the air. “Shall I check through for spelling mistakes and then copy my story over neatly?”
“Good boy,” said Ms. Marker. She looked so pleased; I wished I could make her smile like that. But after living next door to Piers for just one week, I knew he wasn’t really a good boy at all. He was the sort of Person who bullied kittens and stamped on ladybugs just for fun.
“I’ve done two whole sides, Ms. Marker!” Piers boasted, waving his pages in the air. “And Bella hasn’t written a thing.”
“Oh dear.” Ms. Marker frowned. But before she could say anything else, a girl with long pigtails flying out behind her skidded through the classroom door.
“Sorry! The bus was late,” she said. With a friendly smile, she slid into the spare seat beside me. I recognized her at once as the same girl I had seen on my way home from town a few days earlier. She had been singing songs with her little sister, and I had hoped at once that we could be friends. I didn’t know her name, though, because she had missed morning attendance. I would have to wait to find out.
Piers was still smirking at my empty page.
“What are you going to write, Bella Broomstick—or should I say Bella Broomthick?” he hissed under his breath. I know he thought he was being very funny, but it wasn’t the first time I’d heard that Bella Broomthick joke. Mean young witches and wizards used to say it all the time when my spells went wrong in the Magic Realm.
“Don’t pay any attention to Piers. I bet your story will be brilliant,” whispered the smiley girl as we all got back to work.
“But what if I can’t think of anything to write?” I asked in a low voice.
“Then make it up! I always do,” she giggled. I could see she had already written three sentences of her own.
I certainly wasn’t going to write about the day I failed the exam to get into Creepy Castle School for Witches and Wizards and made the teacher so angry his head fell off.
That was when Aunt Hemlock had banished me to the Person World. She cast a spell on Aunty Rose and Uncle Martin so they would let me live with them (even though they are not my real aunt and uncle— and they have no idea that I am a witch, of course), and—
“Crazy comets!” I gasped out loud. “That’s where I’ll start my story.”
I began to write as fast as I could.

Bella Broomstick, Monday, September 3
What I Did on My Summer Vacation
I came to live in Honeysuckle Cottage when Aunty Rose and Uncle Martin agreed to foster me. They are the nicest, kindest Persons in the whole world. They even let me adopt a little gray kitten called Rascal. I have my own bedroom with roses on the wallpaper, and Uncle Martin makes delicious breakfasts, like French toast sticks. Aunty Rose took me shopping at the Sellwell Department Store in town. She bought me lots of lovely new clothes and my fluffy flamingo pen.

Just so long as no one ever finds out this pen is really a wand, I thought, looking up and smiling at the class goldfish that was swimming around in its little glass bowl. My life had changed so much since I’d left the Magic Realm at the end of the summer. All I wanted now was to be a normal, non-magic Person and make some new friends at school.
The little goldfish pressed his lips up against the glass. Don’t look so worried! You’ll be fine! he mouthed, talking to me in Goldfish Gulp (which is a language I understand quite well).
Thank you! I mouthed, answering in perfect Goldfish Gulp too.