The Last Dragon’s Baby

1. Dancing the failure off

Alma

“Alma,” professor Emeritia called me, bringing me back from my reverie and almost making me jump out of my seat. 

Gods! After last night, I was still a bit tired. Not that I was partying or anything like that, it was that blasted dream andevery time I had that blazing dream, I couldn’t really rest well. Lucky me it has been happening more often than ever before.

I should at least be awake today, but no amount of coffee could help, and I tried hard. Today, more precisely now, was the moment I’ve been waiting for the last four years, ever since I entered the door of this school for the first time. This was the day I would receive the results of my final test and graduate from the Royal British School of Potion Craft and Herbology, becoming an official potion crafter. After this, I could finally start working at my parents' shop with them.

Four long years of study, boredom and exploding concoctions: that is how long one studies to become a potion maker. And that was pretty much what I had been set to be for my whole life: my parents and everyone who came before them were potion makers, and I, of course, couldn’t be any different. My choice of wanting to follow this path—or not— was irrelevant. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t ever a choice since witches could be conjurers, healers, elementary (those who could manipulate one or more natural elements) and potion makers, though it mainly depended on our family line and natural predisposition.

“Alma? Should I teleport you here?” professor Emeritia called me again, and she didn’t sound very happy.

I went towards her and took the scroll in my hands before my eyes met her lilac ones. My normally rigorous professor gave me a look of sympathy. A cold shiver danced down my spine, and I swallowed hard. 

Dang! Something was wrong! 

I opened the scroll and my eyes opened wide as I read the words in red, ‘Insufficient’, ‘Disapproved’, 40% of the total grade and I needed a 60% at least. 

I failed! 

A deep sigh left my lips and my numb legs took me back to my seat. 

Covering my shocked face with my hands, I was hit with realisation; I didn’t waste only four years, I wasted twenty-two years! In essence, I wasted my whole life! 

I was raised, born to be a potion maker, yet I couldn't be one. What would I do with my life now? I wasn’t being dramatic since I was about to become the outcast in the family and the joke of the wizard community. 

Shame on me, shame on my family, shame even on my pet cat! 

“Hey, Alma! We are going to celebrate tonight! No more school, we are free beeches!!” my friend Niki squealed as she threw her report-scroll up and caught it casually. 

“I don’t think I will,” I muttered without looking at her, I was still in shock. 

I was royally and magically scr*wed. 

Like every good friend, my best friend could read me like a report-scroll, and before I could say anything else, she was by my side. 

“What happened?” she asked softly, before placing a soothing hand on my shoulder, “What is wrong? Is it Oliver again? Seriously, if that piece of frog-sleep-potion did something to you, he will get what is coming for him!” Niki frowned. 

Well, it was a good guess. Oliver and I were together for a few months, or at least I thought so. He had different ideas about relationships, commitment and not thrusting his tongue into other girls’ mouths. In other words, he was a huge i***t! 

“No, it’s not about him,” I muttered and opened the scroll to show her how scr*wed I was. 

“What the…? It must be wrong! No one ever failed this course… It has to be wrong, Alma. You are no dump-ling and you did the potions right, no? I mean, you had a few incidents and accidents, but it wasn’t that bad,” Niki started speaking without even catching a breath. 

“It’s not wrong. I knew that I wasn’t the best, but I didn’t expect that. Sadly, it is not wrong, Niki.” I sighed, casting my eyes down. 

She was right, no one ever failed Potion School, at least not before me. It wasn’t as hard as Elementary School or even Healing School. I guess I was special, in the worst sense of the word. 

Soon, Niki’s arms were wrapped around me, in a bear-best-friend-hug.

“It’s okay. You can always try again,” she uttered softly, trying to comfort me. 

Her words made an avalanche of thoughts swirl in my mind. Try again and spend another four years of more green substances exploding on my face!? Well, just the thought of it seemed bad enough. But it would probably be much worse than that! I wasn’t even sure if they would accept my re-admission. It was the first time it happened in the history of this school! And it was common knowledge that the other magic schools didn’t accept re-admissions, so why would the school of potion be different? 

I would be a useless witch, almost like a human!  

“I probably can’t,” I replied, looking at the green floor. 

“We can see about that tomorrow, now we should tequila you!” my friend smiled, “Come on, the guys said that they are leaving soon, we are clubbing!” she insisted. 

“I am not in the mood to celebrate,” I sighed, looking away. 

“I am waiting,” Niki’s crush told her, she looked at him motioning that she was about to come. 

“You shouldn’t stay alone either. That wouldn’t do anything to improve your mood! You need to shake it off, Alms!” Niki argued, calling me by the nickname she gave me years ago when we first met.

“It is surely better than being with my parents once they hear the news,” I added and Niki hissed. 

“You are right! But hey, don’t think about it! Just take a nice warm bath and sleep,” she told me before planting a kiss on my head. 

Niki was the best. 

~ * ~

The night had already fallen and the brightness of the blue sky faded, exposing shades of black as I walked home, hearing the buzz of the human world around me: noisy cars, chatting people and the annoying clatter of a construction site. 

We, witches and wizards, lived among the humans and had our buildings and houses among theirs, using glamorous and spells to hide our special things. My parents had a potion shop which was concealed with the facade of a Halloween shop for humans, the door to our family’s main business was disguised by glamour and only those with magic flowing in their veins could see such a door and access the real potion shop. 

My parents will be so disappointed by their disaster of a daughter. I couldn’t face them! I could hardly face myself. 

I breathed in and out deeply, halting on my tracks before I turned around and started roaming about lost in my thoughts. 

I wanted to be alone. 

But I couldn’t keep sulking on my own misery: Niki was right, this wouldn’t help at all. 

I had to shake it off, and what is the best way to do it besides dancing it off? 

I stopped by the first club I spotted. It looked quite fancy, I had found myself in an upper-class neighbourhood, so I shouldn’t expect anything different. I looked down at my clothes—tank top and jeans—and realised I wouldn’t be let inside. 

So I went behind a bush like a little lost animal and snapped my fingers, performing a little simple spell that even I could make more or less properly. I changed my casual outfit to a black fitted mid-thigh dress that hugged my waist, and a pair of high heels. I put my hair up in a messy updo and used the only makeup items I had in my purse,  lipstick and Niki’s forgotten mascara. 

Here goes nothing! 

Entering the club, I went straight to the bar and ordered the human’s special potion to forget: shots. I gulped down two shots of tequila without even pausing to breathe. 

I had to set my mind free, at least for a few hours. 

After two more shots, I went to the dance floor with a long drink in my hand, losing myself in the rhythm of the music, and allowing my body to sway was the best I could do. My body moved in sync with the music, and I let it fill my mind completely as if it were the only thing in existence: beat and lyrics, pure poetry in movement. 

I closed my eyes, my lips twisted in a smile and my hips rolled on their own accord, possessed by the exhilarating and intoxicating combination of alcohol, very loud music and the psychedelic blinking lights. I was entranced until I felt a pair of hands on my waist. I sipped the last bit of my cocktail and spun around annoyed, narrowing my eyes at the human boy and shoving him away with my big scowl and my words. 

“Please leave me alone!” I said firmly, my words vibrating through the beat and conveying their meaning well. 

The guy hissed and cursed under his breath, “You are not fun!” 

I grabbed another drink before dancing to the beat of a faster and hotter song. The people around me were pairing up, but I wanted to dance by myself, having only the rhythm itself as my partner and letting it take me to new heights. 

My plan to dance by myself was going well. I felt empowered by the music and the freedom of my body, dancing like an independent woman; or should I say like the pathetic failure that was too ashamed to be around her friends? No,let’s go with the independent woman. 

Except it all changed when my eyes met his. 

A hazel-amber eye and a blue one. 

This combination shouldn’t even be allowed for humans to have, it looked way too magical! 

Yet he had it, and those amazing eyes were fixed on mine, attracting me with a magnetic force. 

The music couldn’t sway my hips anymore, I felt heavier, compelled by this stranger’s glare. My flustered body and intoxicated mind only wanted one thing: to hold on to that look and get lost in his eyes. 

 ***

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