Lucrianza Orange pretended to smoke a candy cigarette. To the twelve sticky under-tens clustered around the van she was sitting on, this made Luce the Epitome of Cool. It was rather flattering. Nevertheless, Lucrianza would have much preferred to be the Epitome of Not Having To Supervise Her Baby Sister's Party While Their Parents Went To The Shops To Buy More Paper Plates.

Lucrianza was far too Cool to lower herself to being considered Cool by a bunch of grubby kids. Lucrianza was a Witch.

She really wished her parents would understand that this meant that she shouldn't have to baby-sit. They really were being far too nonchalant about the whole thing. Cavalier, even. Blighters.

"Oi! Don't do that, you little creep!" One of the boys had started throwing liquorice allsorts at one of the sister's birthday presents, a goldfish in a round tank that Katherine had already, very proudly, named Princess Lady Sparklyfins Planet. True to its name, the finned beast was sparkly and rotund, although it had been so far impossible to determine whether it really was from royal fishy lineage. Peace was restored as the little twerp fled the wrath of the flicked candy-ciggy butt. Thank God Katherine hadn't noticed- she would have screamed blue murder again and heaven knew Lucrianza didn't want the twitchy neighbours calling the cops again. So embarrassing. Stupid kid. The last time had been when Sarah lost the head off one of Kathy's dolls and the pair of them had kicked up such a racket, the one screaming because her Barbie had been decapitated and the other because accidentally decapitating a Barbie doll when trying to give it a haircut can be a very distressing experience for a little girl. The cops had been around for hours making sure there weren't any recently-deceased bodies stuffed down the back of the sofa before they left. Lucrianza herself had spent the rest of the week searching through her parents' study trying to find papers that would prove once and for all that she had been adopted. Her parents could keep denying it if they pleased- Luce knew deep within her bones that she wasn't like the rest of her family. Even if she did have her grandmother's elbows.

Well, the letter had proved that, hadn't it? Magic. Magic from her toes to the tips of her ears. And going to a good private Magic school that her dad had found out about. Of course she would have preferred to go to Hogwarts, or whatever it was- apparently it was a castle!- but her parents wanted to keep her close, so they'd rooted around until they found her a spot at Madame Sprocket's School for Young Witches. There, she'd be taught all sorts of wonderful magic as well as old stuff like maths and grammar, which her mum and dad thought were important.

"Hey! I warned you!" Liquorice allsorts rejected in favour of jaffas, the little snot was at it again. Drastic action needed to be taken. Lucrianza might actually have to get up and kick him.

Oh, fine.

Heaving herself off the bonnet of the white minivan with much dramatic resentment, Lucrianza Orange prepared to pad over to the pressie table and give young Alex Mann a right smack around the head. Then he knocked the fish-tank over.

Lucrianza decided to walk a bit faster. Almost a sprint, in fact, except not as undignified as a sprint. More a sort of cool, casual series of leaps ending in a magnificent dive wherein she failed to catch the bowl as it smashed to the ground, unloading its contents over the head of another pre-pubescent partygoer.

"AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Oh, crappity crap crap crap. Grabbing a paper cup, Lucrianza scrabbled around under the table trying to retrieve the desperately flipping fish. It wasn't easy with one screaming wet girl attached to her left leg and one screaming sister girl attached to her right, wailing at Luce to "savefishy savefishy savefishy!". Dammit. There, it was in the cup. No water in the cup. Water in jug, good. Bad! Lemonade in jug!

This is bad. This is very, very bad. Fish spinning in circled of ever-decreasing radius. Water, water… orange juice coke milkshake more lemonade no water why no water? Do parents not understand dental dangers of fizzy drinks?

Oh dear. Fish dead.

Ew.

"Uhh, cripes, uhh, Kathy. . ."

"Where's Princess Lady you put her inna cup let me see her is she all right LUCEEEEEE. . ."

"Nah, she's uhh, not in the cup eh Kath. Um, is she still under the table? Go have a look, huh?" Oh, no. This wasn't going well at all. Maybe she could lock herself in the van until the parentals came back. . .

"Yes she is I SAW you I SAW you put her inna cup is she all right I wanna see her! Lu-!"

What a good idea that had been. Brilliant, in fact. Katherine's terrified squawks were inaudible from in here, especially with the radio turned on. Lucrianza slouched down in her seat, half-hoping that if she stayed quiet and invisible her little sister would be distracted by a piece of cake or especially desirable sweet and forget about Princess Lady Sparklyfins Whatsit. In the meantime, the corpse in question was safely stowed in the glovebox and this song was rather nice. . .

Siobhan and Paul Orange were driving happily down Currance Lane when they heard the unmistakeable noise of a distraught daughter. Somewhat less happy, Paul plied the accelerator and Siobhan pulled the paper plates out of the shopping bag- perhaps the children wanted their pieces of the birthday cake already? As they reached the driveway, however, a most distressing sight met their eyes-

Their daughter Katherine was centre stage, bawling her eyes out and wailing something incomprehensible. The party guests had retreated behind the food table and various trees, as was usual when Katherine began screaming. She had very good lungs. Genetically good lungs, in fact- each of her parents claimed she had inherited them from the other's side of the family. The guests were lucky in that her tantrum this time was not directed at them; that honour was reserved for the Oranges' white family van. Actually, it was looking a bit yellow today. . .

Siobhan and Paul looked on in horror as the van bulged and bubbled, the headlights oozing to the sides and glooping into large, bulbous. . . eyes? The white, no, yellow paint started flaking as the frame of the car softened and rounded, the boot flexing out and the tyres disappearing altogether. The windows clouded over and grew golden and scaly as the vehicle completed its transformation.

The two Oranges stood transfixed. Their van had turned into a giant goldfish.

Lucrianza was not at all amused.