Short Stack

A Magical Misfire

"Hand me your wand and tell me what happened," Principal Woodson said.

Grover clutched the bag containing the shattered remains of an intricately patterned vase closer to his chest. "Please don't expel me, sir," he said between sobs.

"This is just a precaution. Even I have a hard time controlling my magic when I'm upset." Principal Woodson smiled reassuringly. "I'll give it back once you've had time to calm down."

The boy pulled out his wand and handed it over. The wand was so hot to the touch that it left angry red marks on both wizards' hands.

"That must have been quite a spell you cast for your wand to feel like this."

"It was an accident," Grover muttered.

"I believe you. May I see the vase, please?" Principal Woodson opened the bag and extracted a shard as thick as his finger. "I'm surprised you managed to break something so sturdy."

"I was trying to fix it, but-" Grover gulped. His mouth opened and closed, but not a sound came out until he eventually managed to whisper, "It broke."

Principal Woodson examined the bag of shards, but nothing indicated that anything had been wrong with the vase prior to its shattering aside from its design. Its scribble-esque swirls and clashing colors seemed like something even a preschooler would deem too garish and messy. "What were you trying to fix? This looks like it was a fine vase, although its pattern is too ornate for my taste. Mrs. Laurel likes that sort of thing though."

Grover trembled at the mention of his transfiguration teacher's name.

"Not to worry. Mrs. Laurel may be a bit strict," Principal Woodson gave Grover a knowing wink, "but I'm sure she'll calm down once we get her vase fixed and maybe put a few flowers in it for good measure."

The boy's face grew as red as a philosopher's stone as he muttered something under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"She is the vase!" Grover dissolved into a blubbering mess as tears flew down his face.

Principal Woodson got up and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "There, there. It'll be okay. At least you didn't turn your teacher into a dog like I did when I was your age. She kept barking at me for weeks!" A chuckle broke through the sobbing. "Now, why don't you go sit outside for a bit? Once you've had some time to calm down, I'll send you to your next class with your wand."

By the time Grover returned to Principal Woodson's office, Mrs. Laurel was back to her usual cranky self, although she smelled of superglue. 

Word Count: 438

This was originally published in Daily Science Fiction on January 24, 2019. 

For this story, I wanted to explore some of the inevitable consequences that would come with teaching kids magic. I originally considered ending this story on a much darker note since, glued back together or not, I imagine being shattered can't possibly be good for someone. I'm really glad I decided to end this on a much lighter, more humorous note instead. Poor Grover went through enough stress as is!