Chapter Text
Witch blood was prominent in her DNA. There had been many, many generations of powerful spellcasters in Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s family. Unlike most children of witches, she prayed that the magical abilities skipped her generation. Not that it wasn’t an honor to carry on the family tradition, but such powers being bestowed upon her probably wasn’t the best idea. Marinette was many things: kind, determined, stubborn, self-aware… but coordinated was not on that list. She was madly clumsy. An overthinker… Traits that made spellcasting a little more complicated.
Typically, the magic began manifesting around age ten, and (much to Marinette’s relief) she had been encroaching on age sixteen with no sign of witching abilities. Sabine kept insisting that her daughter was simply a latebloomer, despite Marinette’s silent protests. Not that she didn’t want to make her mother proud. Sabine was essentially a prodigy. Most of those in the Cheng family were. What if she didn’t live up to the generations of power witches her family heired? What if she was the worst spellcaster her family had ever seen? That’d be utterly humiliating!
Luckily, with her father being human, the odds of Marinette’s abilities manifesting became less and less the older she got. With her being almost six years out from the usual developmental age, she was convinced she was in the clear.
…Until she woke up hovering over her bed, that is.
Marinette gasped in a panic, glancing around the room in distress. Multiple items floated in the air along with her: her sewing kit, mannequin, yarn, cell phone… Desperate for some semblance of gravity, she quickly clutched her comforter and watched as her stuffed black kitty cat hovered past her face.
Big mistake.
As soon as she moved, whatever spell her body conjured up instantly stopped. Marinette let out a shout and flailed as she came plummeting back down on her mattress. All of her belongings crashed to the floor, hitting the hardwood with a loud clatter echoing through the bakery.
Marinette sat in stunned silence for a moment, gaping at the disastrous mess scattered across her room.
Oh hell no…
“Marinette!?” her parents called from downstairs.
There were frantic footsteps beneath her room. Sabine's head popped through the trap door. “Marinette! Are you alright!?”
“This cannot be happening!” Marinette groaned, popping backwards onto her bed in a huff.
Her mother seemed to assess the situation rather quickly. Sabine quickly scanned the room, seeming to notice the mess and her daughter’s distress. Eyes lighting up, her hands covered her mouth in surprise. “Oh, hun! Did your powers manifest?”
“What’s that?” her father’s frame popped up behind Sabine. “Did I hear you right, dear!?” Tom’s eyes beamed with pride as he looked up at her. “My daughter! A witch! I never thought we’d see the day! You know what this means? A celebratory breakfast!” He seemed positively giddy as she heard him start back down the stairs.
“This is not something to celebrate, Papa!” she called out, but the plea fell on deaf ears as her father started down towards the kitchen.
Tom’s voice bellowed through the home. “I always knew my little girl was special!”
Sighing, Marinette massaged her temples. This was not happening. This was not happening. Despite how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, Marinette knew she felt different. A different she couldn’t describe.
“Marinette, sweetie…” her mother began, Sabine’s eyes were gentle and sympathetic. “I know this is scary and you weren’t expecting it at this point. This–well–your age is not an ideal time for powers to manifest. I know that teenagers at your age can be more sensitive.”
Dramatic. Hormonal. Difficult.
Despite how Sabine tried to sugar coat it, Marinette knew what her mother was implying. Powers manifesting when still a child was easier to deal with. Children were perceptive, pliable enough to mold into obedient spellcasters. Teenagers? Not so much. Marinette was fully aware of all the ups and downs going on in her life. Hobbies, friends, schoolwork… not to mention constant bullying from Lila and Chloe. And–well–her massive crush on Adrien.
Dammit! She just wanted to be normal! She just wanted to work up the courage to tell the boy she liked (and had been friends with for the last two years) how she felt! This was going to complicate everything!
Ugh, what was she going to tell Alya!?
“Hon, just come downstairs to humor your father. We’ll properly discuss our next steps as a family, okay?”
With a deep breath, Marinette gave her mother a timid smile. “Okay, Maman…”
Sabine returned the gesture with a small nod. “Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, too.”
When her mother closed the trap door, Marinette stared in a moment of stunned silence. Processing what her new life was going to be… full of spells and potions and catastrophe. There was no going back. She’d never be just a normal human again.
Marinette snatched the pillow from behind her, shoving her face in, and let out a frustrated scream.
Wrong move, apparently.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the bulb in her lamp exploded. The pop was loud enough for her parents to, once again, hear the commotion happening in her room.
“Sweetheart!?”
Great.
Just. Great.