Chapter Text
SIMON
(HUMAN)
THURSDAY
I hate Disney spells.
We have a unit on them in Magic Words every year, and it’s always everyone else’s favorite. The students get all nostalgic, and everyone walks around the grounds belting out “A Whole New World” and “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” together. There are competitions to see who can cast the best no one’s quick as Gaston or swift as the coursing river, and it’s one of the few things we bet on.
It’s generally a grand time. What’s not to love?
Except for the fact that I’m shite at them.
According to Miss Possibelf, Disney spells are some of the most powerful in existence, not only because everything Disney is consistently popular with Normals, but also because the caster has the power of the nostalgia and emotional connection born of hearing a song a hundred times growing up.
But I don’t have that. I saw a few old VHSs at some point, probably, but who cares? (Have you seen Dumbo? Who would want to watch that more than once?)
The point is, I don’t remember a happy childhood when I cast hakuna matata. I just say it like I would any other spell, and it falls flat.
Magic Words isn't my favorite class on any day, but during the Disney unit, I loathe it.
At least I can cast the more recent ones, though, as much as I can anything. (I refuse to use let it go on principle, though, because Baz cast it on me a million times during third year. He was constantly making me drop shit: my food, my wand, my toothbrush. Thought it was bloody hilarious, the git.)
But I get through it every year. Until this year, which somehow reaches a new low.
Because we’re studying Disney spells when Agatha breaks up with me.
The weather is absolutely gorgeous, the sky a rare robin’s egg blue, and the fucking love song from Tangled warbles up from her (totally illegal) mobile on the ground next to my head.
“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” she declares, gripping her wand and staring intently at her notes on the origins of Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo.
“What, study? I agree. Fuck Disney.”
“No,” she says, chewing her lip. “This. Us. I think we should break up. Permanently.”
Her face looks upside down from this position, and for a second, I’m sure that I’ve misheard, that her words have been twisted around, too.
“What? Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be a couple anymore. And I don’t think you do either.”
I swing myself up into a sitting position, and the sudden rush of blood into my skull does nothing to help clear my head.
“Sure I do.”
“Why?”
I shrug, and Agatha sighs, waiting.
“Because you’re my future,” I say. “We’re each other’s future. Right?”
It’s clearly not the correct answer, because her eyes go sad. “That’s not a reason. It’s just...a checkmark on one of your lists. Got the future settled. Done,” she says, waving her wand in a little zig-zag like she’s checking off a box.
“That’s not true!” I grit out, ignoring how closely the statement aligns with how I think of her.
“Okay. Tell me why you want to be with me.”
The panic causes my mind to go entirely blank. My magic starts to itch, coming to life beneath my skin, as my brain races to think of something she wants to hear. All I can muster is a series of half-thoughts I dismiss as quickly as they arrive. We’re supposed to be together. It makes sense. Your hair is soft. I like your family. They all seem stupid and pointless, and as seconds pass in silence, her cheeks grow rosier. I don’t know if it’s from anger or embarrassment, but I don’t want to cause her either one, and I run my hands through my hair, trying to think harder.
“See? You can’t even give me one.”
“Just because I’m not good with words-”
“Actions speak louder than words, Simon! And yours haven’t exactly been encouraging lately.”
I bluster. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the fact that you barely even notice when I’m around! I’m used to Penny coming first, but lately you pay more attention to Baz than you do to me! Even when he isn’t here!” I start to break in, to say that’s different. If Agatha had a nemesis who was missing for the first bit of school and came back with a mysterious limp, she would be just as obsessed with finding out the truth. And it’s not like I don’t always spend a good bit of my time every year following Baz to make sure he’s not up something nefarious. It’s just good sense!
But she continues without letting me get a single word in. “If you want to break up, I can take it. I just wish you’d get the balls to admit it instead of pretending you want this and then ignoring me. I deserve better than that. So, what do you want, Simon? Do you want a checkmark? Or do you want me?”
Her. Right? Of course it has to be her.
But I can’t seem to make myself say it.
My mouth doesn’t work. My tongue is heavy behind my lips, my teeth an ivory cage.
“Just say what you mean ,” she casts with eyes flashing, and just as quickly, they round with horror, and she drops her wand. “Shit. Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
I stand and wipe my hands on my trousers.
“I think you’re right. Let’s not do this anymore.” I’m not sure if it’s the spell or the conversation that has yanked the words from my throat and released them into the air. I don’t know the spell, but Agatha’s not a very powerful magician, and I didn’t feel compelled.
But that would mean they came from me.
“And at last I see the liiiiight ,” her tinny speakers sing, and she’s blinking up at me, and I don’t know what to feel. My stomach is a jumble of conflicting emotions and staticky magic looking for an outlet, so I just grunt a wordless goodbye at her and stalk off toward the Wavering Wood.
And now here I am, tromping around aimlessly through the trees and wondering what the hell is happening. I don’t want to break up with Agatha. I want to stay with her and have Christmas with her family every year and have everything settled. I don’t know where this part of my story is supposed to go if she isn’t in it.
I don’t really want to emerge until she leaves, so I follow the trail farther in than I usually take it, gripping my wand just in case I run into anything unexpected.
Then I realize I’m humming the Tangled song, and I scowl.
I switch to a different song that had played earlier. I’d never heard it before, and Agatha explained that it was from a movie about posh French cats, which sounded hilarious. And it would be fun to be a cat. Lounging around, basking in the sun. No pressure, no worries about studies or magic or confusing girls. What’s not to like, really?
I hum the tune as I walk along. I don’t really remember most of the words, but I eventually get to the chorus, and the only lyrics I know tumble out of my mouth:
“ Everybody wants to be a cat ,” I sing, soft and probably off-key, but it makes me smile.
And then everything goes black.
SIMON
(CAT?!?!)
THURSDAY, PART TWO
When I open my eyes, the world is blurry.
Not completely. Not the things close to me. In fact, I notice a beetle crawling along the forest floor a meter away with perfect clarity, and for a moment, I have an urge to grab it. Then I realize I have much bigger priorities than some beetle, but when I look around, trying to find the Humdrum in the distance, everything is a blur.
And the forest isn’t as colorful as I remember it. It still seems green, just...less. Less vibrant. Like something has sucked some of the color away.
Is the Humdrum stealing color along with magic now?
It has to be a Humdrum attack. Nothing else makes sense. I’ve never passed out in my life, not unless you count the blackouts I get after going off, and this is nothing like that. But I don’t see any creatures, and I don’t feel that staticky Humdrum sensation. I do feel odd, though.
For the first time, I try to move, to shift something besides my eyes, and I am suddenly aware that everything doesn’t just feel odd. The way my body moves is wrong . I feel lithe and strong and too-flexible, like my joints aren’t in quite the right places anymore.
And then I look down.
And I scream .
Except it doesn’t emerge as a human scream.
An awful, blood-curdling sound emerges from my mouth that sounds a lot like a yowl. Like a cat.
Because I am a fucking cat .
I leap to my feet and frantically twist my body around to inspect myself as much as I can. I have brown, stripey fur. Paws. A tail.
“ Meow, ” I say, except that in my head, it’s an extremely resounding fuck .
Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.
My heart is beating too fast, but I don’t know if it’s panic or if that’s how cats’ hearts normally beat. I don’t know. I’m definitely panicking. I’m also definitely a cat. I’m alone in the woods, and I’m a cat .
Or maybe I’m just inside a cat. Like Penelope can do. Maybe I accidentally stumbled across a cat and somehow cast myself into it? Except I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works at all. But it’s the only thing I can think of. What was the last thing I was doing before I woke up?
I try to concentrate, but it takes a few seconds before I can focus. I was upset about Agatha, and I went into the Wavering Wood and I was singing stupid Disney songs and…then nothing.
A purple butterfly catches the edge of my eye, and I whip my head toward it and focus. It’s so close, I would just need...I catch myself and give myself a mental shake.
Merlin and Morgana.
This is. Actually happening.
And what is this, exactly?
It can’t be a Humdrum attack, because I don’t feel him. People get turned into animals all the time in Disney, I’m pretty sure. I’d think this was someone’s idea of a hilarious prank if it had happened anywhere but the Wood.
Suddenly, I forget about the butterfly, because the fact that I’m in the Wavering Wood catches up with me. And while it has plenty of harmless insects to chase while I wait for this spell to end, there are also lots of bigger and meaner creatures that make their homes out here.
Just imagining running into a worseger has my back arching, and I feel my ears move to lie flat against my head.
I cast around to get my bearings and notice that I’m lying just off the trail, thank Merlin. I hop over to it and start toward Watford. Good. Step one complete. No problem.
It’s just what to do when I get to school that’s an issue.
My first thought is to go find Penny, but she’ll be gone until Sunday night. Of all the weekends for her cousin to get married.
I make a foreign, annoyed sound in my throat, pausing at the edge of the Wood to think. I don’t want anyone catching sight of me until I have a plan. I could go to Agatha, but she’s allergic to cats. And I’m bad enough at communicating with her in human form; I can’t imagine it would go well if I tried as a cat.
Then I see Baz striding across the grass, dressed in his practice gear. (I frown. He’s still hurt; he shouldn’t be playing. Plus they don’t usually practice on Thursdays. I would’ve skipped studying with Agatha if I’d known, and then I wouldn’t be in this mess.)
But if I can follow him across the grounds and slip in behind him...at least I know our room is a safe place to wait.
It’s getting dark, and I have no desire to come across a chimera when I don’t have a sword. Or a wand. Or magic at all.
Do I still have magic?
Even if I did, I left my wand back where the...the transformation happened.
But I don’t have time to go back. Baz is getting away.
I hurry after him, and I’m surprised by how quickly this body can move. I’m caught up to him within seconds, and I have to hold myself back to stay a decent distance behind. The key will be to follow him close enough that I can get in the door to Mummers when he opens it but not so close that he notices me.
He pauses, and I sink down low into the grass.
Then he moves again, and I follow after him, a little farther back this time. He’s almost to the door when he whirls around so fast, it’s a blur. I scamper to hide behind a close tree, but it’s too late. He’s seen me.
He frowns and walks a few steps toward me. My heart leaps in my chest, and my fur stands on end. Maybe his vampire senses can tell something’s off. Maybe I’m actually a cat with a human face - I have no idea. But I think he realizes no matter how, and I start shouting.
Baz! Baz, it’s me! Simon! Your roommate! I’m yelling as urgently as I can, but all that emerges is a series of highly stressed meows.
He crouches down. “Poor thing. How did you get out?”
I try to release a frustrated huff, and it turns into a sneeze.
Baz gives me the softest look I’ve ever seen him give anyone. (It’s weird. His mouth even curves up the tiniest bit, and not in a cruel way.) For a minute I lose track of what I want to tell him because I’m so thrown, and he scoops me into his arms and straightens. It comes flooding back to me then...followed immediately by a flood of fear.
He can’t know I’m me. He would kill me in ten seconds flat. Would probably even do it with some feline-inspired spell just to be a twat. (There’s got to be one. Curiosity killed the cat, probably.)
Baz is toting me into Mummers with him, and the terror grows. Maybe he does realize it’s me.
Or maybe.
Maybe he’s a vampire , and he’s just excited dinner came to him for once.
Fuck a nine-toed troll.
I yowl and struggle to get free just as the door shuts behind him, contorting my body and unleashing my claws in an explosion of panic.
“What the-” He startles and drops me, and I land on my feet and scamper toward the door.
“Crazy cat.”
I keep my back toward the door and stare at him, hissing, tail in the air. Is he going to leave me here and go to our room? Or will he try to chase me?
I won’t be able to outrun him, but I instinctively ready my claws.
Baz turns away, but instead of heading up the stairwell, he continues to the first door past it. His knock is loud and decisive, and he waits until Rhys opens the door.
“Your cat got out.”
Rhys’s face - which had already gone slack with surprise at seeing Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch standing at his door - reddens. “What cat? I don’t have a cat. That’s against the rules.”
“Everyone knows about your illegal cat, Rhys.”
(I didn’t. I’m thinking this must be less a everyone-knows thing and more of a super-vampire-senses thing.)
“Oh.”
“I don’t care. Just here to return her. Consider it my good deed of the day. Enjoy your tearful reunion.”
Baz turns to head up the stairs, and without his lanky form in the way, Rhys’s gaze falls on me. He wheels a little closer and looks confused.
“But- that’s not Sabrina.”
Baz pauses with his foot on the second step.
“Beg pardon?”
“Sabrina’s in here. With me. And she’s not a tabby.”
Baz appears fully puzzled for the first time, looking first at me and then back at Rhys.
“Then who’s this?”
Rhys shrugs. “Beats me.”
“Oh. Well. Sorry to disturb you.”
Rhys looks like he wants to answer but isn’t quite sure how to, so he just nods, wheels himself back inside his room, and shuts the door.
Baz’s gaze finds me again, and I arch.
He narrows his eyes.
Here it comes. I’m going to be dinner. It’s finally come to this. He’s going to murder me and not even know it. Some end for the Chosen One.
I’m trying to remember the layout of Mummers, to think of where the best hiding place would be. There’s no way I can outrun him forever, not in an enclosed building. Hiding is probably my best option. Then Baz’s face does that confusing softening thing. “If I pick you up again, will you promise to leave some skin?”
He isn’t looking at me like he wants to eat me. He’s looking at me like-
like he likes me.
Which is a thoroughly disconcerting look to get from your mortal enemy, let me tell you.
It’s so confusing that I let him pick me up, and as he starts up the steps, I can’t help wondering if this is a good choice or if I’m being carried off to the world’s most humiliating doom.