Onward imagine — got inspired and decided to go ahead and write it! In this the reader looks like an elf (so like Ian and Barely) but the rest is up to you guys. (Also, her pet, Merlin, is a girl, in case anyone is curious. I once played a gender-bent Merlin in a play—it was pretty epic—so I thought it'd be fun to include it here.)

I slip on my worn down sneakers as Mom continues to tell me all about how nice it is to be back in New Mushroomton. We used to live here when I was just a toddler, but now that my parents got jobs as professors over at Willowdale, we're back. I'm thankful for it. It's been over a year since I felt the change—felt magic reawaken.

At first, I didn't know why things felt different. All I knew is that one day, I felt more out of place than I had in my whole life, which is saying something. It's not hard to feel like you don't belong when you're clearly an elf in a family of a vampire and a satyr. Not to mention the distant pixie cousins. I always knew I was adopted, but it never really bothered me. Not until the weirdness started happening.

I was was little when it started. People would always comment to my mom on what a beautiful child I was. Others wouldn't start to change until I spoke, and some don't seem to be affected at all—unless they heard me sing, and even the most stubborn people melted. Unfortunately, those people are few and rare between, often hosting some sort of disdain or reason to dislike me without bothering to know me.

Still, most usually swarm and shower me with praises and their various forms of affection for the figment of me they have in their head. There have even been a few times where it crossed a line and got terrifying. Each time it happens, I feel like another little piece of me fades. Mom and Dad say that it's probably something to do with whoever my parents were, and that's also where I got my magic—and the curse.

But maybe things will be better here. After all, when we came back, I felt like I had come home—even if I barely remember it ever being so. It just felt right, like Ive always belonged here.

"You sure you're good to go to school?" Mom asks as she pours her morning coffee. "I know how stressful it is for you, and I really don't want to get another call about you causing trouble."

"I'll be fine, and for the record, it's not my fault I'm cursed."

"Sweetie, you're not cursed." She retorts with a frown.

"Really? Why else do disasters follow me literally everywhere I go? Even though I have my magic entirely under control and do everything possible to avoid them?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure there's a better explanation than a curse."

"You're a scientist, Mom, you have to say that." I sigh and slip my backpack on. "But you can't deny that magic is real, which means that things like curses can be as well."

"And you've definitely been spending too much time with your Dad."

"It's your fault for marrying a historian who specializes in ancient magic—curses included." I laugh and toss my bag over my shoulder. "Well, I'm off to school."

"Have a good day, and don't forget we have dinner with the Lightfoot's tonight."

"Um, who are they again?"

"Some of our old friends from when we used to live here. You used to be best friends with their boys." She waves at me, "I'm sure you'll remember them when you get reacquainted tonight. So don't be late getting back from school. I'll need your help making something to take over."

"I'll do my best." I call over my shoulder and offer our dragon, Percival, a pat on the way out. He wags his thick tale and tries to chew on my laces. I have to toss his ball to distract him long enough to escape without slobber soaked shoes.

I can't help but smile as I walk to school. It's weird, but I swear I can feel magic in the air. It's like a warm sweater on a chilly day and a million other things all at once. I feel silly for hoping that maybe things won't be so crazy in a place like this.

Maybe I can not be everyone's center of attention for once. I mean, it'd be nice to have a little bit of normal for once. It feels like an impossible dream.

The thought only seems to be confirmed as I approach the school. Everyone I pass seems to quiet down for a moment before they erupt in whispers and watch me go. I keep my head down assuming they were just curious about the new girl.

I navigate my way to my locker amidst the friends reuniting and telling each other all about their summer vacations. Mine was spent locked in my room trying to learn some new spells and packing up for the move here. Not that I'm complaining, it was nice spending some time alone and learning more about myself and my magic.

My hands shake as I put my bag inside and head for my first class. Most people don't take notice of me though, and those that do are mostly curious to get to know me. The strangest part is, hardly any of them have the dazed look that most people get when the curse creates the interest, and I find myself smiling and making friends throughout the day.

I continue through my day making acquaintances and trying not to get lost on he way to classes, which happens a few times. My brain doesn't always do well with remembering directions, and I make it to my last period well past the bell.

Everyone's eyes dart to me as I slip in through the door and collapse in the nearest empty seat. The teacher offers a teasing smile as she offers me a book. "Glad you finally found your way to class, Miss—?"

"L/N." I mumble as I accept the class textbook from her. She doesn't tell me which page to turn to, and I'm pretty sure there have already been notes given that I've missed. I look back at the clock and feel my stomach sink when I realize I missed more of class than I thought.

Someone next to me quietly offers me his notebook, where the page number and meticulous notes are written down. I look up at him in confusion, and I swear my cheeks burn and head fills with cotton.

The boy just smiles and waits for me to start copying it all down. I feel silly, but my hands won't stop shaking as I do. Maybe it's the kind look in those brown eyes or something else. All I know is that I feel all nervous and giddy when he looks at me. Is this what all the other girls were talking about when they had crushes?

I brush the thought aside and focus on making it through the class without earning any more attention from my classmates or the teacher. Still, I can't shake the nagging feeling that there's something so familiar about the cute boy next to me. It's like that moment when someone tells you about a book, and you're sure you've read the story but can't quite place it.

The feeling and the giddiness in my chest only increase every time I catch him glancing over at me. It makes my hands start to get sweaty. I've never had a crush on anyone but celebrities, which I'm not sure counts since you only know what you see online and such. It's funny, with how 'drawn' to me people seem to be, no one has seemed to take that kind of interest.

When the bell rings, a part of me wants to linger and talk to the boy for a second, but I can't. Mom was very clear that I had to come home right after school. I'm tasked with making something to take over to the Lightfoot's tonight, which means Dad must be teaching late, otherwise it'd be his job. So, instead of talking to the nice, cute boy, I have to bake for people I don't even remember.

Of course, I'll have all year to get up enough courage to talk to him, and knowing me, it will probably take that long. Despite the popularity that seems to constantly follow me like a lost dragon, I'm not the best at talking to people.

I head home with my head split between deciding on what to make and wondering if I have any other classes with that cute boy and missed him. Percy is waiting when I walk through the door. "I know, buddy. I missed you too."

He runs around my feet until I toss one of his toys for him. "Hey, hon. How was school?" Mom asks as she looks up from a stack of papers.

"Better than I expected." I tell her as I set my bag down by the door. "How was your the start of your third week teaching at Willowdale?"

"Wonderful. I have plenty of bright, enthusiastic students. They're all so eager to learn and try new things. It reminds me why I decided to become a professor." She smiles and begins to tell me all about today's lab experiments and discussions. Mom smiles as she animated tells me every detail, "And, I just realized I need to write the outline for tomorrow's lecture."

"I'll get started on the cake!" I call over my shoulder and tie my hair back. Merlin, our little griffin, judges me from her spot on top of the cabinets as I walk around the kitchen getting all the ingredients together. I peek into the hallway to make sure Mom's study door is closed before pulling my shrunken staff from my necklace. "Magnora Gargantuan." I whisper and watch as it grows to full size.

I close my eyes, feeling the magic thrumming in my veins and staff. In my head I picture all the ingredients coming together and turning into a finished cake. I've learned that with certain spells, you have to feel; others you have to see it in your mind. "Tasketa Finito."

The air in the kitchen swirls, and I can feel flour dusting against my clothes and face. It takes me a second to gather enough courage to open my eyes. It's risky business, but I don't have the time to finish a cake and my first day of homework. "Please, please, please, work."

In front of me sits a beautiful cake, iced to perfection. Normally, I'd make it myself, but I still have to get ready for dinner, finish my homework, and a whole list of things. It takes me a minute to put the cake in a container to get it ready—and out of reach of the mischief makers—Merlin and Percy.

I head up the stairs and into my room. It's cluttered with boxes from the move and my usual papers and books precariously stacked around the room. Not that I mind, I seem to do better with a little chaos and no matter the mess, I can always find what I'm looking for—with or without magic.

"Okay," I throw open my closet doors—one of the few things I've actually unpacked besides my books, "I need something that makes everyone second guess whatever negative stuff they've heard about me."

Merlin weaves herself through my legs and purrs happily. I scoop her up my in my arms, fingers brushing over her feathers. "What do you think, sweet girl? Which one should I wear?"

The little griffin makes a chirping noise as if to think about it for a second before she uses her tail to hit one of my more casual dresses. I pull it out and nod. It's nothing special, but it should be enough to make a good impression—after all, my mom said Laurel's new husband is the sheriff, so he's probably seen my record, which looks worse from everything that happened before we left New Faeland.

Maybe I can prove to them—and myself—that this really is a new beginning for me.

I look myself over in the mirror, smoothing down my dress and fidgeting. It just doesn't feel like me, and tonight is already bound to be uncomfortable. I instinctively fiddle with my shrunken staff hanging from my necklace. It's my nervous habit that I can't seem to break, but that's probably because it's one of the few thing that makes me feel calm and safe.

Merlin startles me out of my thoughts by knocking a book off my desk and crashing into an open box. I scowl at her, but she just smiles—clearly proud of herself for getting my attention like she wanted.

"Have you ever heard of 'meowing?' It works just as well, Merlin, and it doesn't destroy my books. You know they're old and fragile." She just takes the scolding without a care as she butts up against my crossed arms and purrs. "No, you don't get to cute your way out of this."

I pick the old book up out of the box to check it for any damage when something else catches my eye. My favorite jacket lies wrinkled and forgotten with a bunch of clothes I haven't unpacked yet. It's soft and worn under my fingers. Threads are hanging from the multitude of patches I sewed on over the years. Each one is from a band I saw perform or places I've seen. It's memories and pieces of my life in a single piece of clothing.

Despite the troublemaker vibe it gives off, I can't help but slip it on and feel confident—like I found the one thing I was missing for tonight. It's kind of a reminder that who I am is not just who I want to be, but who I was up to here. Hopefully the Lightfoot's will decide what to think of me without basing opinions on my looks. If not, then maybe they weren't the people Mom and Dad wanted them to be.

"Hon, are you almost ready? We gotta go soon." Mom calls from the hallway.

I pause for a second, fingers wrapping around my staff as I look myself over one last time. "Yeah, I'm ready."

She looks up as I rush down the stairs. "You look wonderful, sweetheart." Dad nods in agreement as he hands her the cake container to slip on his jacket. "I know you probably don't remember, but I think it'll be so nice for you to catch up with Barley and Ian."

I just shrug and head out to the car. Mom seems to have this dream that it will be like no time has passed at all, but I hardly remember anything about life here. I mean, I was only seven when we left.

Still, maybe tonight will spark something. It would be kind of nice to be actually know someone around here besides the inevitable group that will form around me. But I'm not going to get my hopes up about it. All I'm hoping is that it's not insanely awkward.

Mom and Dad happily chat about class lectures and old memories as we drive the few streets to the Lightfoot's. I mostly just look out the window and wait for tonight to be over already, but of course, it's only just beginning. It's a fact I'm painfully reminded of when we pull up in front of a house that feels vaguely familiar.

It's one of the cute little mushroom houses, and I swear I remember playing in a tree house here. Sure enough, just barely visible is a large tree with leaves turning orange for the fall season. It's only small pieces of it. All I remember is the overwhelming feeling of happiness that it brings to the surface.

I follow loosely behind my parents as they walk up to the front door and knock. A second later it swings open to reveal a woman beaming as she wraps each of my parents in a hug before her eyes fall on me. "Y/N!" She cheers and looks me over, "You've certainly grown up and into a lovely young woman."

It's hard to put on a polite smile, but I force one on anyway. "Come in, dinner's almost ready and the boys are getting cleaned up. They went on another one of their adventures to celebrate Barley's first week of college classes."

"Oh, where's he going?" Mom asks with a vibrant curiosity.

"Willowdale." Laurel replies with a proud grin. "He wanted to be close, and since it's where Wilden and I went, it was a perfect fit. He's actually a history major, so I'm sure you'll have him in some of you classes, D/N."

"It's always nice to see young minds interested in history. After all! History is the—"

"Basis of our culture today and helps pave the road for the future." Mom and I finish with him. He always says that when someone brings up history. Well, that and a hundred obscure facts that hardly anyone knows and the stories from the digs we've been on over the years.

My mind starts to drift after we're introduced to Colt—Laurel's husband and town sheriff. He offered me a semi distrusting look before Laurel nudged him and changed the topic before it could drift to my past record. I just pretend to listen and nod as the adults dive into their conversation.

It's interrupted a few minutes later by the pounding of footsteps from the stairs and loud laughter. A split second later, a large guy with scruff and a worn demon vest stumbles into the room. He looks around apologetically. "Sorry. Um—Ian's gonna be a minute."

Laurel and Colt just smile and introduce us as if the whole thing is normal. "Barley, you remember the L/N's, right?"

Cue the polite exchanges that make me wanna yawn. Well, until he turns to me and bows dramatically, "You too, m'lady."

"Um, thanks?" I question with no idea what's going on. Barley doesn't seem to mind and takes it in stride.

He sits down next to me, practically bouncing with excitement. "You probably don't remember, but we used to play in the backyard. I would be the knight, and you always insisted on being the princess, who was also a—"

It dawns on me, the memory of playing in a tree house becoming clearer now as I finish, "—A wizard! I remember now. I insisted on being a princess wizard because I wanted to be royalty without being the damsel in distress."

"Exactly!" Barley laughs, and I shake my head wondering how I could have forgotten that. "Dude, you listen to Sailing With Sirens? And Medusa?"

"Yeah. I've actually seen them perform." I look at his jacket to see a similar array of patches sewn on his vest. "We actually have some pretty similar music taste."

He grins excitedly, which I'm pretty sure is his natural state, but he doesn't get the chance to say anything as another guy walks in. "Sorry, I had to—" His voice goes quiet as he looks at me, and I feel my palms go clammy.

Of course, the cute boy from school today just had to be my childhood best friend that I barely remember. As if this night wasn't already going to be stressfully awkward, now I have to add on 'talking to my new crush' to list of things to handle.

This is gonna be interesting.