"That is absolutely out of the question!" Madame Morrible glared down at her older stepdaughter, surprised by the audacity of her request. "You, attend the royal ball? Are you entirely out of your senses, you worthless piece of work?"

"But, Madame," Elphaba said humbly, keeping her head low. "Won't Nessa require my assistance?"

"I will take care of Nessarose for that night," Madame Morrible said sharply. "I want her to present herself as well as possible. This might be her best chance at a good match, and the last thing she needs is your disgusting face scaring away any potential suitor."

"Still, the prince's announcement clearly states that every maiden in the kingdom is invited to attend the ball…"

"And I clearly state that you are to remain at home. That is final. Say one more word about it and I swear, I'll make you wish you were never born."

And so, on the night of the royal ball, Elphaba braided her little sister's hair, helped her put on her beautiful gown, kissed her on the forehead and watched as Nessarose waved at her through the window until her carriage disappeared behind the nearby hill. As soon as it was gone, Elphaba quickly put on her shoes and cloak, drew her hood over her face and rushed through the cold night into the familiar clearing in the woods.

She hadn't visited the place in many days, and when she entered it now, her mind was flooded by memories of the time she had spent there with Yero. Attempting to light a candle with her trembling hands, she accidentally dropped the match; and as it went out, she sank down to the ground herself.

"I am so sorry, mother," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I wish things were different. I wish I was different. I wish my life would change."

And suddenly the scorched match lit up once again, flickering with faintly blue-colored sparks. Elphaba gasped in fear and leapt backwards as the flame grew stronger and stronger; and finally, out of the thick cloud of fog, there appeared a glowing figure, hovering slightly above the ground.

"Well, it is about time, Elphie!" she said in a bubbly voice, and Elphaba, still terrified, gaped at her with shock and awe. She had blond, almost gold curly hair, wore a puffy blue gown, sparkling with glitter, and a tiara atop her head, and in her hand, she held a large silver wand. "I thought you would never make your wish! But now that you finally have, I can make you my new project!"

"Who in the world are you?" Elphaba coughed out, and the woman giggled softly.

"Why, I am your fairy godmother, of course! You may call me Glinda, if that helps."

"It… really does not."

"Well, Elphie, much as I would love to catch up with you, you do have a ball to attend!"

She was dreaming. There was no other explanation. Either that, or she had simply gone insane, having spent too much time on her own. Why else would she hallucinate this brightly glowing, bubbly blonde who claimed to be a fairy of sorts?

"Now, it's time to get to work!" Glinda announced, giving Elphaba's rugged clothes a rather unsubtle critical look. "First, I shall transform your… simple frock… into a magnificent ball gown!"

She waved her wand in a few circular motions, sending down a rain of sparkles; and as Elphaba looked down, she was shocked to see her old frock turn into a rich, silky gown, flowing elegantly all the way down to the ground. She had never worn anything remotely as beautiful and sophisticated as this dress; and the soft, cool silk felt strange against her skin, so used to coarse and scratchy wools. Still, there was one thing about the garment that most certainly did not appeal to her.

"You can not be serious," she mumbled, examining the heavy fabric whose deep, emerald color was a nearly perfect match to the tone of her own skin. She looked up dubiously, but, seeing Glinda's disapproving glare, decided not to complain. "That is… thank you."

"Now," the enchantress said, a blissful smile slowly returning to her face, "it's time for my specialty – shoes!"

She waved her wand once again, and when Elphaba lifted up her skirt, she saw her trusty worn-out boots transform into beautiful dainty slippers, richly decorated with jewels.

"I can't walk in heels," she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, and Glinda let out another pearly giggle.

"Don't worry about that, Elphie. These are magic slippers! You won't have any trouble walking in them, I guarantee. They are made especially for you – they won't fit anyone else in the world." She approached Elphaba and raised her wand to gently tapped it against the top of her head.

"And now," she said with a triumphant smile, "for the finishing touch."

Elphaba felt a wave of warmth spread from the top of her head, down her neck and arms, and through her whole body; felt herself transform in a way she could neither explain nor understand, but somehow, she knew it was important, certainly more important than any magical shoes or ball gown she could receive.

"Why, Miss Elphaba," Glinda gasped happily, summoning a large silver mirror with a single wave of her wand. "Look at you! You're beautiful!"

Elphaba hesitantly stepped up to the mirror, and when she looked at her reflection, her eyes grew as wide as carriage wheels. Subconsciously, she took another step forwards, reaching to touch the silvery surface, but she stopped before her fingers touched the glass. Her fingers. Her pale, soft, creamy hand, attached to a pale arm; a long, white neck, a porcelain face with softly pink-tinted cheeks…

"I…" she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, struggling to believe that the reflection she saw was really hers. The person looking at her from the mirror was not a monster. She was just a girl. She was normal. No, more than that, she thought in disbelief. She was beautiful.

"You're welcome," Glinda exclaimed in a self-satisfied voice, but her smile faded when she noticed the tears streaming quietly down Elphaba's cheeks. "Oh, Elphie, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Elphaba shook her head. How could she even begin to explain what she was feeling? What it did to her to see herself looking – for the first time in her life – like a person? She had always dreamed of a different life; a life where her skin was not green, where her sister was not crippled, her mother was not dead, her family was not cursed because of her. And although Glinda's spell did not change all of these things, it gave Elphaba the slightest taste of what that life would be like.

"I'm sorry," she choked out and wiped the tears away from her cheeks. "It's… I'm… This is all better than I could ever dare to wish for. Thank you."

The enchantress seemed slightly confused, but did not press for an explanation. Instead, she clapped her hands, and there, out of thin air, a sparkling bubble started to form around Elphaba.

"No better way of getting places than by bubble!" Glinda smiled. She waved her hand upwards and the bubble, to Elphaba's surprise, started rising, carrying her up into the sky. She was already a few feet in the air when she heard Glinda's voice call her name. "One more thing, Elphie! You must leave the ball before the last stroke of midnight! When the clock strikes twelve, the spell will wear out; the magic will dissipate and you will go back to normal! Don't forget! After midnight, everything will disappear! Well…" she flashed Elphaba another self-satisfied grin. "Everything other than those slippers. Like I said: shoes are my specialty, and these are yours to keep! So long now, Elphie! Have a wonderful night!"

Elphaba looked down at Glinda's figure, getting smaller and smaller every second, and tried to wrap her head around what had just happened. She stroked the silky fabric of her dress, took a long look at the slippers on her feet, then brought her pale hand before her eyes. It could not be possible… Or was it?

Real or not – at that moment she was living the dream. And that dream would only last until the last stroke of midnight.