"Smells goo—" begins and ends a voice outside on the cobblestone street, as the scent of baked goods mingles in the air with the fumes billowing out from Harry's workshop.
Inside, three fresh-baked fairies zip around the room like angry wasps, trailing sparkles and leaving scorch marks on the ceiling. What went into the kiln as clay figures have emerged as real, living fairies—and they are absolutely furious about the heat!
"Now, now, let's all stay reasonable!" Harry pleads, ducking as a teacup whizzes past his head.
One fairy, her skin still glowing orange-hot, perches on his prized collection of spell books and fixes him with a blazing glare.
"It was BOILING in there!" she shrieks, her wings humming with indignation.
"It was only fifteen hundred degrees!" retorts Harry, but it doesn't help.
Another fairy is systematically turning his potted plants into hybrid clucking chicken-plants.
A third one simply spins in place, emanating a high-pitched whine.
"What'll it take to appease you all?" Harry sighs, reaching for his well-worn list of fairy appeasements. "Ice cream? A tiny palace? Please don't say goat transformations again, ah... please remind me your names?"
"Name’s Ember!" shouts one fairy, with flame-red hair and sparkling emerald eyes. She flutters closer to Harry, her eyes blazing with indignation. "You think you can just bake us alive and serve us plain cookies? We demand a feast fit for fairies! How about a chocolate fountain? And make it quick—before I start turning your books into toads!"
"Call me Flick!" follows another, this one with tousled black hair and shimmering silver wings. He zooms around in a huff, creating small gusts. "You call this an apology? I nearly melted in that kiln! How about a magic potion to cool us down? Or maybe a trip to the enchanted forest for a proper fairy party? Or else I might just turn your garden into a swamp!"
"Well, we can't have that," Harry says, looking around. "By the way, do either of you know where the third fairy went?"
Just then, the bell above the front door rings as it swings open.