Teen Witch: Enhancement

One afternoon after school, Esme was practicing casting a tricky spell when her phone buzzed, breaking her concentration. The incantation collapsed, and she was lucky to avoid an absolute catastrophe. Once the magic had dissipated, she turned her attention to her phone with an impulse to hex the person who had texted her, but she restrained herself until she had a chance to read the message.

Is this Esme? was all it said. It was an unfamiliar number.

Who is this? She replied.

It’s Pete.

Who???

Peter Johnson from science class. I sit behind you.

She vaguely remembered him,

an unremarkably ordinary boy.

What do you want?

Could you make something for me?

Something?

A spell?

What makes you think I could do that?

People talk.

What kind of spell?

Can you make me bigger?

Puberty should handle that all on its own.

Not all over.

Where?

Down there.

Your feet?

🍆 He posted the emoji of an eggplant.

You want help gardening?

She was enjoying toying with him now.

No. Higher.

Your legs?

Between them.

Ah. I see.

Well?

How much bigger?

Twice as big?

OK.

But, you know girls really don’t care about that

as much as boys think they do.

Besides, you’re still a growing boy.

Can you do it?

She was ready to refuse.

But, then the budding businesswoman in her stepped in.

If you pay me for it, she wrote, then I think I can.

$100?

$140

OK

When do you want me to come over

to cast the enchantment?

Can’t you just make me a potion or something?

I can, but why?

I don’t want anyone to know you did it.

I can’t let them see us together.

That could take a while.

If you have it ready in a week, I’ll give you $20 more.

She sighed. Fine. Give me a week.

I’ll need to do some research.

I’ll let you know when it’s ready.

OK. Don’t tell anyone.

I won’t. Later

Later

Esme was breaking some rules, and she knew it. She was much too young and inexperienced to be selling her magic, especially to someone as random as Peter Johnson from science class. However, she had her eye on a new dress, and $160 would be enough to afford it. Anyways, she always enjoyed a magical challenge, and she had no doubt that some wizard at some point had devised a potion for just that purpose. She would just need to do some research, which would require a lot of traveling, and she would need to do a lot of spell casting once she found the knowledge she needed. A week might be a bit of an optimistic deadline, but she was confident she could be ready by then if she hurried. The money would be incentive enough for her to rush to get it done.

***

A week later, almost to the minute, Peter texted her again. The boy had not spoken to her once in school, not even made eye contact with her.

Is it ready? he wrote.

Sort of, she replied, now regretting her haste.

Is something wrong?

I brewed up a potion to do what you want.

OK

I would give it to you,

but I must have made a miscalculation

with my measurements.

What does that mean?

The potion is too potent.

I tested it on a mouse,

and the results were pretty extreme.

Oh?

I diluted it and tested it again,

but it was still very strong.

It might not be safe to use

unless you are very careful with the dose.

Will it do what I want it to do?

Yes

I’ll take it.

Should I bring it to you at school?

NO!

Where?

Drop it in my mailbox tonight?

He posted his address.

Leave the money inside the mailbox.

$120?

$160!

Right

Only use a teaspoon of it.

There will be potion left over,

but don’t take anymore than that.

You’ll notice the changes when you wake up

the day after you take it.

What do I do with the rest of it?

Sell it? Do what you want with it,

but DON’T overdose on it.

Is a teaspoon the small one?

Yes

OK, I’ll leave you the money.

$160

Yes

Later

Later

Esme poured the purple potion into a glass phial about the size of a hot dog. She stopped it shut with a cork and tied a tag around it with a penciled note that read, “One teaspoon only.” Then, once the sun had gone down, she rode her bike over to Peter’s house. The autumn air was getting cooler, but it was still comfortably warm enough for her to go without a jacket. Peter lived in what could be considered a small mansion. Seeing it, Esme realized that she should have asked for even more money. The money they had agreed on was waiting in the mailbox. She counted it and then replaced it with the phial. As she rode home, she planned out her next shopping trip for that dress.

***

Peter texted her early in the morning a couple of days later:

HELP!

What’s wrong? she asked,

already knowing what the answer would be.

You made it too strong!

I warned you. How much did you take?

1 tablespoon!

I said 1 TEASPOON!

I even left you instructions.

I thought a little more wouldn’t hurt.

How big did it get?

It’s hanging down to my knees!

Isn’t that what you wanted.

It’s too big.

I can barely fit it in my pants now.

Everyone is going to see the bulge.

What do you want me to do about it?

Hold on. He wrote.

Then, there was a long pause before his next message.

My friend just texted me.

It’s even worse for him.

Explain.

He paid me to drink some of it with me last night.

I thought he only had two teaspoons of it.

He took more?

He said he took another whole tablespoon

when I wasn’t looking.

How big?

He said it’s almost down to his ankles.

I see.

Esme had to fight the temptation

to make jokes about tripods and third legs.

Help us!

What do you want me to do about it?

Fix us!

I don’t know if I can.

Hold on.

Again, there was a long pause.

Oh God! You’ve got to help us right now!

What is it?

My little brother just woke up screaming for me.

He said he drank the rest of the bottle

after overhearing me talk about it with my friend.

Oh no.

It’s bigger than he is!

I don’t even think he can move on his own now.

That’s not good.

Help us! Come here now!

My parents will be waking up soon.

I don’t have any way of fixing you right now.

What? Can’t you do something?

I only made an enhancement potion,

and that took days to brew.

I might be able to enchant you back to normal,

but mixing potions with other spells

can have unpredictable results.

You could end up very small or even get bigger.

We need help now!

I would have to do some research

to find a way to reverse the effects safely.

Then, actually making an antidote potion

could take days to brew as well.

What do we do now?

I can’t hide this.

Esme thought about their plight.

And, once more the businesswoman in her awakened.

I can do the research and brew the new potion, she replied.

I can even brew you a different potion

to make your parents forget about this.

OK. That would be good.

It’s going to cost you, though.

The ingredients will not be cheap.

I’ll pay anything.

Yes, you will.

She was already envisioning a whole new wardrobe

that she could afford after this.

What do I do about my parents until then?

Make something up,

but don’t mention my name.

If you do, then I won’t do anything to help you ever again.

Understand?

OK. I won’t. I promise.

Good.

Now, don’t text me again until I text you.

I’ll let you know when I have your potions ready.

It may take a while, so be patient.

Please be quick.

Later

Later

Esme set down her phone. She considered dusting off her crystal ball so that she might watch poor Peter try to explain things to his horrified parents. Instead, she started planning her trip. There were various arcane libraries she would need to revisit, as well as gardens in secret locales. Some of these places were beyond the boundaries of this world and took some effort to reach. Unlike the last trip, though, she was going to take her time. As a matter of pride, she was determined to get the antidote right, no matter how long it took. Peter was desperate, but he would have no choice but to wait for her until she was ready.