This is being written for my friend Mephy who may be drawing this as a manga for me... I apologise if my writing isn't very good, but I'm keeping it simple for the most part and moving the story along without my usual long-winded descriptions. I wasn't going to post this here, but I got bored. -shrug-

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Hewitt wiggled in place, fidgeting nervously with the ends of his large, floppy sleeves. Only two boys stood before him now, the line stretching out endlessly behind as more and more arrived to receive their test. Today was the day the great wizard, Mr. Heath, came to pick out the boys who were ready and able to learn wizardry.

Way up, beyond the high steps leading up to the school, Heath stood at his pedestal, waiting for the next in line. Hewitt watched with envy as Nyle Allard, a boy he had known vaguely for his entire life, climbed up the pearly white steps.

Now only one boy stood between him and his destiny. Hewitt had been practicing his magic all summer, learning small charms from the Young Wizard book series, eating vegetables to keep his energy up, forming tiny balls of flame to fit in his palm... all very impressive for his age, if he could say so himself. Twelve years old and he could already do all the basics!

Hewitt had even saved up his allowance to buy a full wizard outfit just for the occasion! A dark blue robe with yellow and green stars- why he looked like a little Merlin, pointy hat and all! He even bent the end of the hat to give it that fetching wrinkle the famous wizards always had in the pictures. All the other boys had the plain black or brown robes, how dull. You could find those anywhere.

The last boy left him, leaving Hewitt to stand anxiously in the front of the line. The bright, lovely sun suddenly seemed all too hot, making him tug at the neck of his robe and glance to the side at the crowd of parents waiting for their sons to return with their victory of rejection. He searched for his mother’s tell-tale frizzy brown hair, eyes grazing the top of the mass, but found no sign of her....

Well, she must have gotten lost in the back somewhere- after all, she promised to come and wait for him today.

Hewitt chewed his lip, blue eyes wide as he finally saw someone at the top of the stairs wave for him to come up. Smoothing a hand back over honey brown hair to check that his little ponytail is neat, he straightened his thin shoulders and marched forward with what he hoped was confidence. He was ready for this- he was born to be a wizard, just like his father- his mother had even dappled in magic at one time, so it was only natural that he would go to a school as well.

Despite his resolve, Hewitt felt his legs wobble as he reached the first step- Lack of exercise, he assured himself, he wasn’t scared.

Halfway, his entire body was shaking, face flushed as a few mothers cooed at him encouragingly, cheering him on and telling him there was nothing to be frightened of; it was just a little test. He wanted to correct their assumption. He wasn’t scared, he was shaking from... from excitement, of course!

As Hewitt reached the top and Mr. Heath came into view, a middle-aged man with a built-in frown, his blood ran cold, leaving his face pale and scared as he approached the pedestal. The other boys who’d already passed stood in rows behind the looming man in black robes. Hewitt suddenly felt self-conscious in his own overly-large blue outfit, feeling ridiculous with his bright stars and pointy hat compared to the countless flat-tipped ones surrounding him. He could feel his magic withering in his veins, cowering from the intimidating figure Heath made.

“Nash, Hewitt?” Heath drawled slowly, hard gray eyes roaming over a large roll of parchment that fell in a wave at his feet.

Hewitt swallowed, staring up at the tall white pedestal and looking very tiny. “Y-yes sir, that’s me-”

“Well, don’t stand there babbling, show me what you got.”

He cringed from the blank, cold gaze of the elder wizard, stepping back unsteadily to give himself room for his demonstration. Right. His demonstration, he’d prepared it for weeks- what was it again? Oh- right- fire transfiguration.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Hewitt raised shaking hands, palms upward, and clenched his eyes closed in concentration. Think warm, warmer, warmer, hot, hot, hot-hot-hot-hotter-hotter! A Small flame grew in his hands and he slowly cracked his eyes open as it twisted, forming into a small bird of fire. It trilled, shuffling over his fingers before taking off into the air.

Hewitt allowed himself a small, triumphant smile and looked over at Mr. Heath expectantly. The smile died at the unimpressed frown wrinkling the man’s already-harsh face. The bird exploded into sparks as hisconcentration faltered,and disappeared as his heart dropped into his stomach. It... wasn’t good enough. He'd failed, hadn't he?

“Is that all, Nash?”

“I…. It was...”

Heath gestured towards a thin man standing by the stairs. “Next.”

“W-wait!”

“Boy, you can’t afford our classes- we only accept the best in our school. You want to learn magic, go to a witch, cause you perform like a woman- NEXT! Nile, Harper!”

Hewitt stared up at the pedestal, crushed, as scattered snickering came from the lined-up boys. Someone tapped his shoulder and he looked up with teary eyes at the thin man. “C’mon, kid... You can try again next year.”

Head bowed, he let the man guide him to the side of the stairs to walk around the crowd and down the hill... His mother never showed- she hadn’t come after all. Scrubbing at his eyes, he ran home.