'FINE!' I yelled, slamming the door shut with as much strength as I could muster, before throwing myself onto my bed and sulking.

'And don't come down until you're ready to apologize!' my mum hollered after me, her accent making it sound amusing and downright scary at the same time. She has never lost her strong welsh accent, even though she moved down from Wales when she was twenty and has lived here ever since. By here I mean Englefield Green, Egham, Surrey, England. Pretty near London.

I angrily snatched up my iPod and jammed the earphones into my ears, turning the music up loud to drown out my anger and pent-up frustration. Which, if I can't control it, can manifest itself in a very physical, rather scary way. I tried to focus on the lines of the song, the rhythm and the beats in the bar, the different instruments in the background and the tone of the voice, but I was just so angry and frustrated it didn't work nearly as well as usual. Doors nearby slammed, making the whole house rattle; my door flew open and several books shot off my shelves and hit the opposite wall. I shut my eyes and opened them; they shone bright gold. Before things could get any worse dad and Aunt Morgana appeared in the doorway, my aunt rushing over and sitting beside me, stroking my hair and muttering to me, trying to soothe. Dad replaced my books with a glance and looked into my eyes with his own shining brightly, and mine died down.

'Sorry,' I said, embarrassed. Aunt Morgana sighed sympathetically.

'It's going through puberty,' she sighed. 'It's much harder to control.' Dad, however, was looking at me with barely hidden pride.

'You're going to be so powerful,' he said, smiling at me. I was half pleased, and half annoyed. Having magic is cool, and I would never be normal, but having the most powerful warlock ever as your dad means there is a hell of a lot of pressure on you.

After fussing a while, they both left me in peace. Peace was a rare commodity in this house; not only did my parents and two younger sisters live here, Aunt Morgana, Aunt Gwen and Uncle Arthur live here too. They have done for nearly five years. In fact, it was five years ago on Halloween, and that was a month ago. It feels like they've been here forever.

If one of my sisters isn't coming in to bother me, then someone else is coming in to look at themselves in my huge cupboard mirror, or to borrow something. I sometimes think I'd get more peace in Piccadilly Circus. I've been clamouring to my parents for a lock, but mum won't let me get one. She knows that if I do, although the magicians in the house would be able to get in even if it was closed, she wouldn't be able to. And I understand, but it doesn't stop me feeling annoyed.

I fall out with my mum the most. As she's not a warlock, like dad, sometimes she can't understand what I go through. Like the temptation of using it against people who deserve it. That's what got me into trouble in the first place. The other day, at school, one of the idiots who some girls fawn over made my friend cry. When I get angry, I can't control my magic very well, as you saw before, and I was very angry. Suffice it to say two of them ended up with broken arms and legs, and who was blamed? Well, actually, no one, because it looked like an accident. The Ping-Pong table fell on them, which baffled the teacher, as it seemed to have been picked up and lobbed over the room. Of course, the only other person in the room was me. Mum got talking to the teacher and knew immediately what had happened. She knows I'm as weak as a pigeon, and that there was no way I could have lobbed the table using my hands. But I didn't need them.

Well, that was yesterday. Today I tripped one up, a huge, solidly-built rugby player. I took him down. It looked like I was amazingly strong, and I did get the blame for that, but Mum knew.

'2-4-6-8, ain't never too late,

Me an' my radio driving on through the night

3-5-7-9, on a double white line,

Motorway sun coming up with the morning light.'

I sang along with my iPod, ignoring the pile of homework that sat in a corner of my room. I just wasn't in the mood, and why bother with it when it could do itself at night, while I was asleep? I could even make sure there was the required amount of mistakes present.

'Jen, can I borrow your…'

'No,' I said, immediately. Alle pouted and walked straight into my room anyway.

'You don't even know what I was going to ask for,' she grumbled at me. I sat up and looked at her, taking out an earphone.

'You want to borrow my laptop,' I said. She pulled a face at me. Charming.

'Actually, I wanted to borrow your iPod charger. My iPod's run out of battery.' I sighed heavily, before switching off my own and getting up.

'Use your magic,' I said tiredly. 'It works just as well.' I had to figure all this out by myself. My sisters are lucky they've got me.

Alle is four years younger than me, roughly. My birthday is Armistice Day, and her's is Halloween. Marta is a spring bunny, born on April 25th, and is about 3 years younger than Alle. At the moment she is 9, Alle is 12 and I'm 16, and enjoying the delights of magic in puberty.

'Mum says go down and pick your advent calendar,' Marita, or Marta for short(er) burst into my room. She's the odd one out of the family, with brown eyes like mum. She's also got brown hair. Alle and I are both pale, with dark hair and bright blue eyes, like dad.

'Why does everybody feel the need to come into my room!' I cried, frustrated, throwing my hands up at the ceiling. 'I can't go down,' I told Marta. 'Mum told me to stay up here.' I knew that sounded stupid- a sixteen-year-old, scared stiff of her mother, but I never liked people being angry at me. I'm a bit of a wuss.

'Go and apologise, then,' Marta said, as thought it was the most obvious thing in the world. I glared at her. Apologizing meant swallowing my pride, something I hated to do.

'I'd go now, if I were you,' Alle said conspiratorially. 'Before Uncle Arthur comes home and nicks the best one. We've already chosen ours.'

I compared the horrible idea of getting the worst calendar, with the bad picture and chocolates, to apologizing, and made my decision.

'Alright, I'm coming down,' I said, jumping off my bed and pretending not to notice when Alle quickly swiped my iPod charger.

I made up with mum quickly- she never really likes falling out with us, and has to be one of the best tempered people I know – and I managed to get a decent calendar for my troubles. Mum always buys a load from Tesco's, and it's first come first serve. The quality of your calendar is based on the type of chocolate and the picture on the front. Uncle Arthur and Marta always have an argument about who has the best, one that she always wins, despite being younger. Much, much younger, although to be fair Uncle Arthur was asleep for most of his life.

Mine was decent; it had reindeer on the front and was Cadbury's, so I was happy. I retreated into my room with my prize and quickly put it out of sight. We were supposed to keep them in the kitchen, but I had yet to put my name on it and didn't want anyone to take it by mistake. Then I relaxed back, dreading the next day of school when I would have to face the music from the boy I flattened. I couldn't use magic to protect myself again. For one, it would be too obvious, and also dad and Morgana would be able to sense it, and I had a sneaking suspicion so could Marta. Alle was not as powerful as us, despite looking almost the mirror image of dad. Marta, despite her features being completely different to Dad's, is the most powerful. She was doing magic from the womb. I'm sort of in the middle, which is ok. If I have to go through this now, I dread to see what Marta will be like at puberty. Hopefully I'll have moved out by then.

Uncle Arthur arrived home from work, and he and Dad both raced into the kitchen for their calendars. It is always funny to watch them messing about as though they were kids, but Morgana says they never properly grew up. These little scuffles always end up with Arthur winning, because Dad isn't allowed to use magic.

When I watch them having a laugh, or getting out of their cars in their suits, it can be hard to believe that in front of me are King Arthur and his trusted advisor, Merlin the great magician. We watched Disney's the sword in the stone a few years ago, and god did it make us laugh.

I sat in my room for the rest of the evening, dreading the coming morning. I had, as usual, a constant stream of visitors, starting with Dad, who came into to quietly compliment me on my use of magic, and Arthur, who commented on how like my father I was.

'He used magic against me, you know,' he told me. I did know. I had heard the story many times, but I smiled and nodded and tried to look interested all the same. I do love Uncle Arthur. Sometimes you can really see the King in him. At the moment everyone's very excited because Aunt Gwen is pregnant. She and Arthur had been trying for so long everyone thought she couldn't have kids, but it happened eventually and Uncle Arthur was over the moon. Unfortunately he became very overprotective of Gwen, more so than he was before, and is starting to grate on everybody's nerves, even Gwen's, and she is probably the most patient woman in the world. I was talking to Aunt Morgana, and she said Gwen had to be, or she would never have survived marrying Arthur.

Tea dragged out, as everyone gathered in the dining room for the fish pie Mum had made. I mainly sat and played with the mush on my plate, letting those around me do most of the talking. There had been a slight incident when Marta, who hated salmon, found some on her plate. She made a fuss, and it was discovered that she seemed to be the only one with the salmon, so I swapped with her, mainly because I was too tired to put up a fuss.

Dad noticed my unusual silence and he nudged my arm.

'What's up, Jennie?' he asked quietly, filling me a small glass of wine. I loved wine, but Mum didn't like me drinking a lot, especially on a school night. I sipped it pensively.

'Nothing,' I said, unconvincingly. Dad gave me a look.

'You're usually the one doing all the talking!' he pointed out. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong,' I said again, and he left me to my wallowing. I had a feeling that he hadn't given up, however.

That night I hardly got any sleep. Tossing and turning, the red light on my digital clock showed the minutes and seconds ticking away before I had to go and face him again.

Tom Harris. The most popular boy in the year, best in every sport, even pretty clever in lessons, considered somewhat of a hottie, and the most insensitive b*****d I had ever met. How I longed to show him just how powerful I was, how I could squash him with a mere look… but I could never do it. I had to keep quiet about my ability. Dad said that magic breeds distrust and questions. When it was time for Arthur to take his rightful place as King, he told me, would be when we could be ourselves. But until then…

I highly doubted Arthur would ever be King. Politics had changed since he had reigned, and, to be honest, we didn't need him. I told Dad this.

'They woke up for a reason, Jennie,' he said. 'I don't know what the reason is, but there is one, and we will find out soon enough.

Great, I thought. That's something to look forward too.

The next morning I was so tired from the night before it wasn't hard pretending to be ill. Mum believed me; she fussed over me for a good part of the morning before she had to go and work. She works from home, as she needs to stay near the Knight's house. They live next door, and they're all really nice. A bit confused with modern technology, but a pleasant bunch. My favourite is Sir Bedivere. He's always pleased to see us girls, anxious to tell us what new thing he's found out.

Dad knew, though. He came in before he left for work, and sat on the end of my bed.

'If you don't face them today you'll have to do it tomorrow,' he told me. I sighed, not even trying to keep up the pretence of illness.

'I know,' I groaned. 'I just… didn't want to today.'

'They might not be as bad as they seem,' Dad said. 'Arthur turned out pretty good.' I smiled. Dad had told us all about the bully Arthur had been when he'd first met him.

'I'm not as brave as you,' I complained, 'and there's no way I'll save this guy from an evil witch and be promoted to his manservant.'

'I should hope not,' Dad laughed. 'But you never know,' he got up from my bed and grinned at me. 'They might not be who you thought they were.'

I enjoyed my day of freedom in bed. Mum occasionally came in with toast and tea, which was nice, and I worked my way through my library books. Aunt Morgana visited me and brought magic books; Aunt Gwen popped in with chocolate, some clothes she'd seen while out shopping for the baby and bought for me, and lots of chat. Both my Aunts are so different; Morgana solemn and taciturn, Gwen lively and mothering; it amazes me what such good friends they are.

Unfortunately the day went much quicker than if I'd been at school, and all too soon I was preparing for bed, dreading the next day. Dad had warned me that if I was ill yesterday he'd tell Mum I'd faked it. I knew I had no choice.

At about midnight I gave up trying to sleep, slipped on my tracksuit bottoms and fleece before sneaking quietly out the house, nicking Arthur's bike and cycling off to the woods. When I reached the hazel tree I opened it with a few whispered words and a flash of my eyes. I left the bike by the tree; no one came into these woods at night, and if they did steal it I could easily get it back with magic. Then I magicked a ball of blue light and made my way into the passage, through the cavern where the others had slept for the past thousand years, down a further tunnel until it opened out into a large cavern, with a river running through the bottom. Sitting up on the huge rock in the middle, as though expecting me, sat the great dragon.

'Young warlock,' he rumbled at me. I sat down, and poured out my worries. The dragon had retreated to his past prison when he realized mankind could and would kill him if they got the chance. Hard dragon scales are no match for guns and bombs.

'What should I do?' I asked, pitifully. The dragon looked at me thoughtfully.

'Face your fears,' he said. 'You are powerful, Jenna. No one can take that away from you. And Merlin will condone the use of magic as self-defence.' He flew away, ending the meeting. I was slightly happier – he had practically given me the go-ahead to use magic against Harris. I cycled back, surprised to find that no one had noticed my disappearance. Relieved, I quickly changed and got back into bed, and I slept better than I had for the past few days.

-

I walked into the classroom with my head slightly bent down, but luckily for me, the only people in there were my friends and my form teacher.

'Hello Jenna,' Miss Butler said, cheerily. 'Are you feeling better?'

'Yes thank you,' I muttered at the floor. She smiled at me, and then walked out the door, telling us she had to go do a teachery thing and she would be back in a few minutes. Of course, she always says that, but ends up coming back just as registration finishes.

'Hey Jen,' Alice Mason, one of my best friends, said as I sat down beside her. Georgina Davies and Kim Bradford, my other best friends, repeated the greeting.

Alice Mason had been the one Tom Harris had been insulting. The first time he had I'd thrown a table tennis table at him, but unfortunately had missed and hit his best friend, Ben Johnson. The next day, he'd done it again, so I'd tripped him up, quite obviously, in the middle of the corridor. Both the boys were in my class. Lucky me.

They wouldn't know that it was me behind the flying table, but they would know that I was the one who threw Harris on the floor. I think he was quite shocked. I've always been very quiet at school, only having a few select friends. It's easier to be anonymous when I could so easily reveal who I am with a slip of the tongue.

'Thanks for tripping Harris up the other day,' Alice said. I grunted.

'I didn't know you had it in you!' Kim said, laughing. We rowed together at the school boat club and often joked about how we were the weeds of the team. Kim was even smaller than I was, and I had inherited my mother's shortness and my father's beanpole-like-ness, which was not a good mixture unless you wanted to look like you could be blown over by a breath of wind. I was about average height, but as most of the girls in my year wore huge heels and the boys were all freakishly tall, I looked tiny.

'No problem,' I told Alice. 'It was my pleasure, actually.'

'You know he's not going to be happy,' Georgie said, the timid one of the group.

'I know,' I said, sadly. 'But he can't do anything to me in class, can he?' The others just looked at me, and I sighed. 'Oh hell.'

Everyone was in the classroom when the buzzer sounded. Everyone except for Miss Butler. I felt a slight twinge of guilt when Ben hobbled in on his crutches. Ben never said anything really. He was pretty quiet, for Harris' friend. He never caused trouble in class, either.

'Sorry I'm late, guys!' Miss Butler swanned in late, and hastily took the register. I scrambled to get out of the classroom first. I had Geography in Woburn village first period, all the way over the other side of the school, and I wanted a head start.

I had no trouble for the whole of the school day, and I was wondering whether Harris had either forgotten or decided I was below his notice. In any case, I had made it to the end of the day without being hurt, which was a plus.

I was just leaving the school, lugging my heavy bag that seemed to contain all the books I owned. I wasn't worried about the ludicrous amount of homework I'd been set; I complained along with my fellow classmates and groaned with the best of them, but I never did my homework. At least by hand. We live near the school, and I always walk- mainly because I hate being in traffic. When I reached the lights, however, I heard someone call my name out from behind me. I whipped around, which was probably a mistake. I should have ignored him.

'Oi, Emery!'

Dad had changed his druid name slightly to become his real name a few hundred years ago. Emrys became Emery, but he kept the name Merlin, however many strange looks he received. I thank God nearly every day he gave us normal modern names, not ye olde Camelot ones. I think my mother might have put her foot down at some of his suggestions.

'What?' I asked, as I saw Harris and a load of his mates strutting towards me. My voice, which was trying for nonchalant, came out as a slight squeak. I tried not to watch Ben limping along, as it made me feel really guilty.

'I still need to repay you for the other day,' he said, looking down at me from his six foot height. I opened my mouth to disagree, feeling the magic inside of me rush to protect.

'Err, Tom? Why can't you just let this go?' Ben sort of half-lifted a crutch, and I nodded furiously. Harris just smirked, and then lunged for my bag.

I'm embarrassed to say I did scream like a girl, but when you see a six foot guy launching himself at you it's something you don't take with a small grin. He dashed across the pedestrian crossing and stood in the island in the middle of the road, holding my bag out. I stood and watched him, aghast, as he began to empty my bag out onto the pavement, unable to reach him as the traffic had suddenly decided to all come past at that moment. I watched in horror as my book fell out, the one I'd found in my locker today, the one I'd thought I'd lost. My magic book. It stood out from the school books like a sore thumb and it made Harris stop and dump my bag on the floor. He bent over and picked the leather-bound tome up, opening it to reveal yellow parchment covered with spells and potions Aunt Morgana had taught me.

'What's this?' he sneered, flicking though it. 'A magic book? You freak.'

The other boys cheered and jeered at Harris as he waved it at me.

'Give that back,' I said, through gritted teeth.

'Or what?' he smirked at me. 'You'll cast a spell on me?' And then he chucked it into the road, in front of an oncoming van. I swore and ran out to get it, not caring about the van. I could stop it.

But it stopped before it reached me. A familiar beeping sounded, and I looked back to see Ben standing by the lights. He'd pressed the button. A wave of relief rushed through me. I wouldn't expose myself today, not now. I shot him a grateful look, and Harris just snorted at him and stalked off with the rest of the crew, leaving crippled Ben behind. I crossed in front of the impatient van driver and began to pack my stuff on the island in the middle.

'Here,' Ben said, hobbling over the crossing when the green man appeared and starting to pick up some of my stuff that was strewn across the floor.

'Errr… thanks,' I said, confused. Ben was Tom's friend, so him helping me was slightly strange.

'What Tom did was out of order,' he said as he handed me back my chemistry book. I took it and smiled hesitantly. He smiled back.

'Look, I'm sorry about your leg,' I said, before I had time to think about what I was saying.

'What do you mean?' He asked. 'It wasn't your fault. It was just my bad luck.' I gulped.

'Errr, nothing. Just forget I said anything,' I mumbled hurriedly, before hoisting my bag back onto my shoulder and pressing the button to cross. But just as the light turned to green and I was about to walk across a hand caught my arm. I turned to look at Ben.

'I want to make it up to you,' he said, his nut-brown eyes clear and earnest. 'How far away do you live?'

'Just around the corner,' I said, looking at him quizzically.

'Then, I'd like to walk you home,' he looked down at his crutches and grinned. 'In the loosest possible sense.'

o0o

'What's this?' my dad said, amazed, when he poked his head into my room later that night. I frowned at him.

'I'm just doing my homework,' I said. 'It's not like it's a big thing.'

'You never do your homework,' Dad said, coming in and inspecting my books. I shrugged.

'I just felt like it,' I said, feeling like nothing could ruin my good mood.

'Ahh, Marie Curie. I met her, you know,' he said, smiling. I sighed.

'You met everyone.'

'I know,' Dad grinned, before studying me carefully. 'You look happy.'

'Is there a law against it?'

'No. Why are you doing your homework?'

'Errr…'

'And I want the real reason,' he said, mock-sternly. I sighed.

'Fine. Mum said I should try and do some properly.'

'So you are?'

'Yup.'

'Since when did you do what your Mum says? You hate doing homework!'

'I'm just in a good mood,' I said, packing my physics books away and switching on my computer. I'd forgotten how much of a waste of time homework actually was.

'I told you once you faced it you'd be fine,' Dad said, and then he left, grinning like a fool. 'And your good mood is probably due to the fact a boy dropped you off home today.'

'Who told you that? You were at work!' I said, my good mood evaporating rapidly.

'A little bird,' he said quickly, before beating a hasty retreat. I chased after him, but stopped on the landing.

'MARTA!' I yelled.

'Uh oh.'