~~~Chapter 12~~~
This godmother of hers, who was a fairy, said to her, "You wish that you could go to the ball; is it not so?"
"Yes," cried Cinderella, with a great sigh.
"Well," said her godmother, "be but a good girl, and I will contrive that you shall go." Then she took her into her chamber, and said to her, "Run into the garden, and bring me a pumpkin."

"Isabelle!" Alec called from the car outside. "Can we go yet?"

Isabelle sighed, and leaned out from her bedroom window. "I haven't done my hair yet!" she called. "You and Jace go now, and Magnus can drive me when I'm ready!"

Alec made a show of rolling his eyes before yelling, "Jace, get out here! You'd better not be doing your hair as well!"

"Coming!" came the reply, and Isabelle heard Jace's feet stomp down the stairs before he left the house and got in the car.

Alec beeped the horn once, and drove off. Isabelle rolled her eyes. Boys had no patience.

She returned to her mirror, twisting her hair around experimentally before deciding to leave it out.

Isabelle touched up her eyeliner, added a dab of lipstick, and surveyed herself with a smirk.

Perfect.

She picked up her phone and called Magnus. "Can you swing by and pick me up? Then we have to get Clary as well."

"I'm just doing my hair," came the muffled reply. "Be there in five."

Isabelle smiled as she put down her phone. Finally someone else who had their priorities straight.

Magnus finally pulled up in his weird car and Isabelle got in, taking care not to rumple her dress, which was red and definitely not modest. Isabelle had shaped it up herself, and it accented all the right things in all the right places. She looked fabulous.

Magnus was wearing a simple white shirt and dress pants - and a shimmering gold jacket that was so glittery that it hurt to look at for too long. His hair was spiky and glittered up to match.

They grinned at each other. "You look amazing - but what else would I expect?" Magnus winked.

Isabelle returned the wink. "And you look almost as good as me."

"And that's what you consider the nicest compliment?"

"Yep."

She directed him to Clary's house, and they pulled up in the front drive with no trouble.

Isabelle told Magnus to wait in the car and rung the doorbell. "Clary? You there?"

She rung it three times before she heard footsteps, and then Clary's voice from the other side of the door. "Isabelle?" She sounded horrible, choked up like she had been crying.

"The one and only." Isabelle confirmed. "Clary, are you okay?"

"Izzy, I'm really sorry, but you'll have to go without me."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"No, really. I'm not going."

"Open the door, Clary."

Silence. And then, "Do I have to?"

"Clary, open the door or I am going to break in." Isabelle commanded.

There was a muffled sigh, and the door swung open. Clary stood in the doorway, still in a baggy t-shirt and jeans. Her hair was messy, and her eyes were red and puffy. "Isabelle - "

"What happened?" Isabelle barged inside before Clary could stop her. "Is it your stepmother? Are you okay?"

Clary looked like she was about to cry again. "Isabelle, I'm fine, but I really need you to go."

"I'm not leaving unless you're coming with me."

Then Isabelle caught sight of Clary's stepmother's salon room, and the mess inside it. "Clary, is that your - "

"Tapestry." Clary said in a dull voice. "And my dress is ripped up, too."

Isabelle stared at the ripped fabric, crumpled on the ground, and the beads and sequins and feathers strewn around it.

"Kaelie and Seelie thought it would teach me a lesson." Clary said quietly. "I can't go to the ball, Isabe - "

Isabelle grabbed Clary's chin, so that Clary had no choice but to meet her eyes. "Clary, you cannot let those bitches tell you what to do, do you hear me?" she said fiercely. "You are talented, and smart, and strong, and brave, and beautiful, and you are not going to bow down for anyone."

Clary stepped away. "Don't, Isabelle."

Isabelle opened her mouth again, but Clary held up a hand. "Did you know what Kaelie called my mother?" she asked unevenly. "A bitch. Camille told me my mother abandoned me, dumping me on my father, who in turn dumped me on Camille. She thinks I'm a curse on her, she thinks I'm the reason my father left her."

Isabelle shook her head. "That's sick."

Clary's eyes flashed. "I'm starting to wonder if Camille's right. Maybe I'm nothing more than a - "

"No." Isabelle stepped forward, taking both of Clary's hands in her own. "Clary, no. Your stepmother might blame you, but don't you dare blame yourself."

"But - "

Isabelle shook her head forcefully. "Maybe Camille's making it up. She only knows one side of the story. And maybe - maybe not. But - listen to me Clary - it doesn't matter. Frankly, I think your parents are damn unfortunate not to have you in their lives! Clary, your family and step-family aren't your masters. We're not talking about them, we're talking about you, and you are as much of a curse as I am ugly!"

Clary gave a weak chuckle at that.

"I am so glad to know you, Clary," Isabelle continued, "so is Simon and Alec and Magnus and especially Jace. And you are going to show your stepsisters exactly how little they mean to you by coming with me, fixing up your dress and tapestry, and barging the hell into that ball!"

"Isabelle, there's no time, I can't fix - " Clary began.

Isabelle grinned. "I've wanted to be a fashion designer since I was about five. Well, that, or a weapons maker. Trust me, I can fix your stuff in no time. I'll be your damn fairy godmother. And don't you worry, we are totally going to make Kaelie and Seelie pay as well."

Isabelle opened up the front door again and stepped outside. Clary hesitated for a moment, rubbing the tear stains off her face, before grabbing her things and following Isabelle.

"I knew you'd see sense." Isabelle said smugly.

Clary gave her a watery smile. "You can be a very persuasive."

Clary stopped dead just outside her house. "What is that?"

Magnus was grinning at them, leaning against his car. His very bright car. "Isn't she amazing?" he asked, stroking the bonnet lovingly.

"It's orange." But 'orange' was an understatement. The car was bright orange, and sparkling with glitter.

"I painted her myself." Magnus said proudly. "She's called… the pumpkin."

Isabelle scoffed. "Because it's fat and orange?"

Indeed, the car was quite large - and strangely sphere-shaped. Magnus glared at Isabelle. "If you don't like her, you can walk."

"No, she's beautiful." Isabelle said quickly.

They climbed in, and sped back to Isabelle's place. Isabelle grabbed her sewing machine, some pins, and ordered Magnus to make her a coffee.

Isabelle surveyed the dress and tapestry with a frown. Then she looked up at Clary. "I have an idea. Let's combine them."

Isabelle sewed and stitched and ordered Clary around, and she and Clary worked tirelessly while Magnus supplied coffee. The dress had ripped right through the middle and the tear was too big to be simply stitched up again, so Isabelle used the black fabric of the tapestry and sewed the two together. She tried to convince Clary to put on some high heels, but Clary was not budging from her sharpied sneakers, and Isabelle gave up with a sigh.

Less than half an hour later, Clary stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself.

Her dress was exquisite. She could see the sewing lines where it had been patched together, but the 'mismatched' look worked, like the dress was cooler for having been ripped and sewn up again. Like it was better for having been broken.

The black fabric shimmered with beads and sequins and lace from the tapestry, and the feathers were on the back, in the shape of (considerably smaller than before, but still awesome) wings. The painted angel girl was carefully sewn on Clary's back, the sequins and beads making the savage rip in her face look artistic and beautiful.

The black colour gave Clary's hair a more fiery glint, and made her eyes light up in green. Isabelle fussed around with Clary's hair for a while before finally leaving it out in soft curling waves.

"Damn, Clary." Magnus said cheerfully. "You look amazing, darling."

Isabelle gave Clary a once-over and then grinned. "Told you I could fix you up."

Clary tried to thank her, but she couldn't find the words, and Isabelle waved her away. "The night isn't over yet, Clary. Let's get going."

She picked up her makeup bag, glanced at Clary, and put it back down. "You don't need it." she decided.

And then they all clambered back into the pumpkin. Clary knew she had nothing to show to Mr. Fell, but she didn't mind so much any more. She was going anyway, to prove something to Kaelie, Seelie, and herself.

And she was going to meet Christopher.

Clary's stomach flipped with nerves.

Magnus flicked on the radio and cranked up Taylor Swift, and they drove off into the evening.

"Let's do this thing." Isabelle said determinedly.

Isabelle and Clary are one of my favourite friendships, I wish there was more of it in the books. Also, yes Isabelle is the fairy godmother if you hadn't guessed already. Hope this chapter was a lot better and you guys don't hate me anymore ;)

- s.i