Chapter 28: Practical Application
Our favorite trio continued their magic lessons in a field hidden with warding magic, and Stolas dismissed a barrier seal.
Danny arrived moments later, brushing a twig off his shoulder. Octavia trailed behind, adjusting the strap of her black-stitched satchel and mumbling something about having a perfectly good nap.
Today, Stolass was going over illusions. Stolas turned and extended a clawed hand toward the air beside him. With a smooth motion, a second Octavia shimmered into existence. Her expression was bright with uncanny realism. The illusion gave an enthusiastic wave before bowing and vanishing with a flick of Stolas's wrist. "To master illusion, Daniel, is to bring the image within the mind's eye into reality. It may come off easy to some, but the spell needs focus and a clear mental image. Typically, the more intimately you know the subject, the better the result. For example, it is easier to imagine an accurate image of a family member than a complete stranger." His gaze swept between Danny and Octavia. "Let's begin. Your first subject: yourselves."
Danny stepped forward and stretched his shoulders. "Okay… This shouldn't be much different from art class," he muttered, closing his eyes. Instead of putting thoughts to paper, it was a magic construct. He tried to picture himself with blue eyes, black hair, a white shirt, and red shoes.
Tracing a symbol in the air, he whispered the spell. Light shimmered in the grass ahead… and what appeared was akin to an artistic caricature of himself that he could get at the pier. The illusion had a giant bobblehead, a stretched grin drawn like marker scribbles.
Octavia blinked once, then snorted. "I mean… It could be worse."
Danny stared. "Not what I was going for."
Stolas coughed lightly, clearly suppressing laughter. "Your mental image may be a bit exaggerated. Why don't you try Octavia?"
Danny groaned and waved the illusion away. "Alright, okay."
Octavia playfully squared the size of her face with both hands. "Remember, my head is this big."
This time, Danny focused on Octavia. He let the magic flow, but a few stray thoughts seemed to take shape in the back of his mind. Like it or not, this was how his subconscious sometimes saw her.
As the illusion shimmered into view, it was far more accurate than his previous attempts, but now it had swung wildly in the other direction. To any observant adult, it was the unmistakable image of how a young man sees their crush.
Illusion-Octavia wore a magenta dress and a tiara. She seemed to have a soft, golden glow around her. Her eyes sparkled, her feathers were neatly brushed, and she smiled softly. There was just enough tilt in her head to make her look impossibly sweet. The whole image radiated the word 'adorable.' "Hi, Danny!"
Danny just stared at it, totally silent for a second. One could practically see the moment it clicked. His eyes shot wide open. Almost instantly, his ears turned bright red. He coughed, waving his hand as if he could just make it disappear.
The illusion waved again. "Bye, Danny!" It then disappeared.
"Okay," he laughed awkwardly, "that one was... uh... better." He tried to brush it off.
"My, my," Stolas drawled from somewhere nearby, his voice practically dripping with amusement and mischief. "Didn't my Via look simply delightful? Just like her last birthday party."
Danny hid his face in his hands, not wanting to see his best friend's reaction.
Octavia stared at the spot where the illusion had just vanished. Her expression hovered somewhere between surprise, curiosity, and flattered. When she looked back at her friend, Danny was hiding himself.
It gave a warm feeling that he still saw her akin to an actual princess. After a moment of thought, she walked behind Danny and hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. "It's nice to see you still think highly of me." Danny relaxed in her grasp.
"Well… yeah. I guess. It's… uh… that lasting impression I have." Danny refused to meet her eyes, still busy studying the of grass near his feet.
Octavia seemed to be enjoying herself now. "So, should I start dressing like that more often, but I think the background lighting is a you-only feature?"
She let the silence hang there for a second, enjoying watching him blush. Finally, she rolled her eyes with a smile. "You're such a dork."
"Yeah, well, you can be one too, sometimes."
"Then we can be dorks together. Dorks together strong."
Stolas shook his head and clapped in amusement to get their attention. "Oh, woe is me. Both my beloved apprentice and daughter are dorks. Whatever shall I do?"
Both kids separated and blew a raspberry at him, saying that he was a dork just like them too.
This was one of the few times Stolas took being called a dork as a compliment. He straightened up. "Let's move on and see how well you can copy me."
Danny and Octavia exchanged glances, then turned toward him with identical looks of concentration.
Danny's illusion came first, a mostly accurate Stolas, robes, and feather patterns roughly in place. The stance was close, almost regal, but the details were off. His legs were too long, his eyes too wide, and his chest puffed.
Danny tilted his head. "Not bad, right? Little... owl-heavy, maybe."
Octavia's illusion followed a second later. This copy was accurate, matching Stolas's clothing at home for casual use.
Stolas's expression softened. "Octavia… that was remarkable."
She gave a small shrug, though a hint of pride tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"You've known me since you were small. That kind of closeness makes the image clearer."
He turned to Danny, whose illusion was now waving stiffly.
Danny scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, okay, still working on the... proportions."
"Getting there," Stolas said with a nod. "You're starting to think like an artist. Magic reflects the mind," Stolas said quietly. "And illusion magic, more than most, reflects how well you see with memory and emotion."
Danny nodded slowly and sank into the grass. Octavia settled beside him, leaning back on her hands.
#
It had been several months since Danny finally got to practice magic. The first few weeks had been spent testing out spells, pushing past the structure of Stolas' lessons to experiment on his own. By now, the smaller spells came pretty easily. So far, things were looking good.
It was quiet at the Fentons' place tonight. Danny was sprawled on the couch, legs kicked out, flipping through channels without watching anything. Beside him, the human-disguised Octavia sat cross-legged, absently running her fingers through her dark hair. The TV was the main light source..
Danny sighed, clicking the remote even faster. "Man, why is there never anything good on?"
Octavia barely looked up from the bowl of popcorn between them. "Maybe because you're skipping everything before giving it a chance?"
Danny smirked but kept clicking. "We're on a quest, Octavia. Searching for only the finest cinematic masterpieces."
She gave him a deadpan look. "If by 'masterpieces' you mean low-budget disaster films, then sure."
Danny ignored her and kept flipping. Octavia shifted, propping her chin on her palm. "At this rate, we're gonna spend all night scrolling."
"Hey, I can tell when a show's gonna suck just from the intro."
Octavia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and I bet you just skipped something halfway decent five channels ago."
Danny snorted. "Yeah, right."
She grabbed more popcorn. "Hey, you made me watch that awful sci-fi horror thing last time. What was it called… Space Beasts vs. Mega-Fang?"
Danny grinned. "A classic! You just don't appreciate true cinematic genius."
"Oh yeah, nothing screams 'genius' like guys in rubber suits and CGI so bad I wanted to claw my eyes out."
"You're being dramatic," Danny said, still grinning as he finally stopped flicking channels on some cheesy action movie. A terrible-looking explosion filled the screen, followed by a dude doing a ridiculous slow-mo dive away from it. Danny's smirk widened. "Oh, now this looks promising."
Octavia groaned. "Absolutely not."
Danny turned to her, feigning offense. "What? This has 'cinematic masterpiece' written all over it."
Octavia snatched the remote from his hand and started flipping through channels again. "You have the worst taste in movies."
Danny stretched lazily, letting her take the remote. He flicked his fingers, muttering a quiet incantation. The popcorn bowl on the table wobbled, then lifted an inch into the air, floating slowly toward Octavia.
She raised an eyebrow but waited.
With another flick, the popcorn inside the bowl turned an unnatural shade of neon blue.
Danny smirked. "Try it. I think I got flavor control down."
Octavia plucked a piece from the bowl, studied it, then popped it into her mouth. After a thoughtful chew, she nodded. "Cotton candy? Nice!"
Danny leaned back, looking smug. "Told you I'm getting better."
They settled into a comfortable rhythm, throwing casual jabs and half-watching whatever movie ended up staying on. The kind of easy, rare quiet that didn't come often in Danny's life.
Octavia nudged him with her foot. "So, are we actually gonna pick something, or are we just gonna sit here talking all night?"
Danny shot her a lazy grin. "I dunno. Talking is also fine."
She rolled her eyes but smirked anyway. "You're the worst."
"And yet, you're still here."
Octavia shook her head, but her expression softened. "Yeah. I guess I am. Never said it wasn't enjoyable."
Danny let the moment hang for a beat before casually grabbing the remote back. "Alright, fine, we'll pick something." He scrolled through a few more titles before pausing.
"Ooooh, how about Ghostbusters?" pointed the girl
Danny gave her a flat look. "Octavia."
"What?"
"My parents hunt non-existent ghosts for a living."
"Maybe, but might be fun to see what they could be like if they were real."
Danny sighed, grabbing another handful of popcorn. "Fine..."
#
At some point, Octavia did this big stretch, arms way up over her head, letting out a little sigh before kinda flopping onto her side. Like it was no big deal, she just rested her head on Danny's lap, wriggling a bit to get comfy.
Danny blinked down at her, surprised. That was new. And honestly? He didn't mind.
Danny's mind was elsewhere anyway, his fingers idly tracing the cover of his grimoire lying on the couch next to him. Ever since making the Pact, he'd been practicing like crazy, itching to try stuff beyond Stolas's lessons. He'd started small, but the more he figured out, the more he wanted to see what else he could do.
"Hey," Danny muttered, keeping his voice down, "I was thinking… maybe I could, like, start using magic at school? Nothing big, you know? Just… small things to help me out here and there."
Octavia didn't say anything for a second. Then she let out this long sigh, shifting just enough to look up at him. "Danny," she said, and her voice had that warning tone.
"What?" He shrugged, a half-grin playing on his lips. "It's not like I'm gonna try and hurt people."
"Dash?"
"Hurt people unjustifiably?"
"Not much better than you might think."
"I'll be totally harmless."
Octavia exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a second before giving him that knowing look. "You need to be careful. I've seen way too many demons too reliant on their magic."
Danny raised a brow. "Really? Isn't that the point of using their magic?"
Octavia propped herself up on her elbow. "You think that now, but trust me, it's easy to get carried away."
Danny tilted his head, thoughtful. "I mean… yeah, I get that. But Stolas keeps telling me magic is a tool. Why not use it to make life easier?"
"Because it's a tool that can make you lazy," Octavia said bluntly. "You start relying on it for small things; before you know it, you're using magic for everything. That's when it becomes a problem. I've seen some fat demon royals just lazing away on a couch as they use their magic to do everything around the house."
"Ew, gross."
"Yup. And if you've ever seen a royal stripped of their magic, they crumble. They can't do anything for themselves."
Danny opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He wasn't planning to get reckless, but she had a point. He sighed, relenting. "Fine, I'll be careful. I'll keep it small."
Octavia studied him briefly, then shook her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "You're gonna learn the hard way, I can already tell."
Danny shrugged, not knowing the future. "Probably."
She sighed but let it go, resting her head back on his lap. "Just… don't do anything stupid."
Danny chuckled. "I'll try."
#
The two eventually reached a comfortable quiet. The movie continued, mostly ignored, as Danny's fingers absentmindedly drifted to her hair, combing through the soft strands.
Octavia hummed softly, eyes half-lidded. The sensation was… nice. Relaxing, even. She let herself sink into the moment, content in their quiet comfort. Neither of them said anything and didn't have to.
Chapter 29: Group Project
Monday Morning
Casper Middle School
The brisk Monday morning air drifted through the open front doors of Casper Middle School. Students shuffled in with backpacks slung over one shoulder as the halls filled fast with chatter and slamming lockers.
Danny Fenton rubbed his eyes as he strolled down the hallway. He lazily high-fived Tucker, who matched his groggy pace.
"Morning," Danny mumbled. "When we're older, can we just vote to cancel Mondays?"
"Only if we replace them with permanent Saturdays," Tucker replied, adjusting his glasses.
Danny opened his locker, sifting through his stuff for an English assignment. He smoothed it out as best he could and tucked it into his folder.
"Got your homework done?" Tucker asked, raising a brow.
"For once, yeah," Danny said, puffing his chest slightly. "Took forever to fix that grammar sheet. Who invented compound sentences?"
A chime crackled through the intercom, signaling the start of homeroom/study hall. Students peeled off toward their classrooms as doors began to close.
Inside Room 2B, students slid into their seats as Mr. Cobble went through his usual morning spiel: the cafeteria running out of chocolate milk, another plea to sign up for band, and the weekly reminder not to treat lockers like garbage cans.
Danny slouched in his seat near the back, between Tucker and the window, barely listening. As the announcements ended, Mr. Cobble glanced at his watch.
"Alright, I need to step out for a minute, restroom," he said, already halfway to the door. "Try to act like you've got basic self-control."
As soon as he left, half the class started drifting out. Danny stayed behind, packing up his things at an easy pace. No rush.
Then the door clicked shut behind one of the last kids.
He heard it before he saw it, Dash Baxter's smug little chuckle.
Danny winced.
"Fenton," Dash drawled, stepping into view with his usual two-man goon squad. "You look really confident today. Got your homework done and everything?"
Danny tightened his grip on his folder. "I'm not looking for trouble, Dash."
"Good," Dash said, cracking his knuckles. "Because trouble just found you." Ever since Halloween, Dash had been a bit distracted from targeting Danny. However, such peace wouldn't last forever. Old habits die hard.
Dash yanked the folder from Danny's hands with a quick snatch and pulled out the assignment. Before Danny could say anything, he heard the rip, then another. Dash tore the paper to pieces, letting the shreds flutter to the ground like snow.
The cronies laughed on cue.
"Oops," Dash said mockingly. "Guess you'll be staying up real late tonight."
Danny's fists clenched. His shoulders tensed, but instead of reacting, he glanced at the hallway just beyond the door. Empty. Quiet.
A slow grin curled at the edges of his mouth.
He raised one hand subtly, fingers tracing a sigil in the air as he whispered a single, practiced word. The bullies were too busy enjoying themselves to notice.
Then, from just behind Dash, came a voice. "Mr. Baxter."
Dash froze mid-sneer.
All three turned, and there stood Mr. Cobble, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in classic teacher judgment.
"Care to explain why you're still in my classroom?" he asked.
Dash paled. "Uh, we were just leaving!" he blurted.
One crony tripped over a chair leg in his rush to escape, while the other yelped and darted for the hallway. Dash scrambled after them, fumbling with the door before practically diving out into the corridor.
The door clicked shut.
Danny exhaled a small laugh as the illusion shimmered and faded away. He crouched to pick up the pieces.
Right on cue, the real Mr. Cobble stepped back into the room, drying his hands on a paper towel.
"Everything alright in here?" he asked casually, glancing around. He just saw Dash and his delinquent friends run down the hall and away from him.
Danny looked up, all innocence. "Yup."
1st Period – English/Language Arts
Students trickled into Mrs. Arling's English class, backpacks slung low and Monday energy set to minimum. The walls were covered with faded motivational posters about reading and grammar puns so corny they made Danny quietly groan. There were also portraits of classic authors, most of whom looked like they'd been personally offended by joy. A quote from The Raven loomed over the whiteboard in looping cursive: "Darkness there, and nothing more."
Danny slid into his usual seat in the middle row, clutching the two halves of his torn homework. His heart thumped as he glanced toward the front of the room. Mrs. Arling wasn't there yet, probably still in the teacher's lounge printing something.
He unzipped his backpack and slipped the crumpled pages onto his lap, careful not to draw attention. The tear was clean but obvious, and the crease from Dash's little "gift" back in homeroom hadn't faded. Danny held the pages side by side, fingers twitching slightly.
Alright, just like Stolas showed me. Focus on the whole, not just the tear.
Keeping his hands low, he pressed the paper edges together and whispered the spell under his breath. A shimmer of energy sparked across his fingertips. The edges of the paper glowed faintly, then began to mend, fibers reweaving with precision as faint silver threads danced across the surface.
Seconds later, the worksheet was intact again. No tape. No damage. No trace it had ever been torn.
Danny let out a quiet breath and grinned. "Yes," he whispered, pumping his fist subtly under the desk. He slid the perfectly restored homework onto the surface of his desk, just in time for Mrs. Arling to clap her hands at the front of the room.
"Good morning, everyone," she said cheerfully. "Hope you all had a restful weekend, because we're diving straight into reading. Today, we're starting a new unit on Gothic fiction."
A few groans drifted across the room like lazy thunder.
Except from the far-right corner, where Sam Manson sat with her usual unamused expression, arms crossed, dark eyeliner sharp, and her black choker snug against her neck. She raised her hand before the handouts were halfway around the room.
"This version's completely watered down," she said flatly. "The original had way more atmosphere and psychological tension."
Mrs. Arling gave her a long look. "Thank you for that… insight, Sam. Let's stick with the classroom version."
Danny smirked but kept his head down, flipping through the first few lines of the story. It followed a young traveler arriving at a crumbling estate full of shadows, secrets, and whispers in the walls. Normally, a story like that would grab his attention, especially with how weird his life had gotten lately, but his focus slipped.
His pencil drifted across the corner of his notebook, sketching spirals and half-formed shapes without thinking.
Halfway through the period, Mrs. Arling clapped her hands again, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Before we move on... pop quiz time!"
Danny winced. 'Of course.'
She handed out half-sheets with grammar and comprehension questions from last week's reading. Danny glanced down at his restored homework and silently thanked himself for skimming it over breakfast.
2nd Period - Math
As the bell rang and students spilled into the hall, Danny made his way toward Mr. Hendricks' math class. He dodged a pair of kids tossing paper balls across the lockers and sidestepped someone freestyling loudly about pi.
He slid into his seat and reached into his backpack, only to feel something cold and unpleasant squish between his fingers.
"Ugh! Gross!" he muttered, pulling out his math homework. The paper was soaked, edges curling and ink already starting to smear.
His water bottle had apparently leaked during the last period. 'Seriously? First Dash, now this?'
Danny glanced around, making sure no one was watching too closely. He tucked the soggy worksheet under his desk, focused for a second, and whispered the incantation. A faint shimmer passed over the page. The dampness vanished, the paper dried and flattened, and the ink reappeared crisp and intact.
Tucker, sitting nearby, leaned over and squinted at Danny's now-pristine homework. "Didn't that look... wet, like, two seconds ago?"
Danny shrugged casually. "Nah. Must've been the lighting."
Before Tucker could ask more, Mr. Hendricks clapped his hands at the front of the class.
"Alright, let's get started. We'll begin by going over the homework, yes, I know, try to contain your excitement. After that, we're diving into fractions and how they relate to decimals."
A collective groan rumbled across the room.
"And yes," he added without missing a beat, "this will absolutely be on the test. No escape."
The class worked through a few problems together, converting improper fractions, simplifying, finding decimal equivalents. Then Hendricks passed out a worksheet and broke the class into small groups.
Danny's group included Emma, a quiet girl who kept her eyes on her paper, a kid who wouldn't stop drumming on the desk with his pencil, and of course, Tucker, who was already breezing through question three.
"If I finish fast," Tucker said without looking up, "I get more time to play Dino Duelers. Efficiency, bro."
Danny nodded absently, only half listening. While the others worked through the problems, he was already in his own head, trying to visualize the fractions using magical patterns, hoping that layering the math over spellwork diagrams might help him remember it better later.
It wasn't the weirdest study technique he'd tried lately. But if it worked, he wasn't going to question it.
3rd Period – Physical Education
Students trudged into the Casper Middle School gym like they were headed to a sentencing. The smell of floor polish, sweat, and old sneakers clung to the air like it was baked into the walls. At the center of it all stood Coach Brenner, a broad-shouldered ex-wrestler whose whistle seemed surgically attached to his mouth. His sun-faded ball cap looked like it had survived a dozen summers, and maybe a few forest fires.
Before the games started, students stopped by the lockers to change. Danny approached his locker with caution, bracing himself as he pulled it open.
He gagged.
A wave of stench hit him like a wall, rotten egg and mildew, strong enough to make his eyes water. He recoiled, hand covering his nose.
"Oh man, what died in here?"
Inside, a half-crushed sandwich container oozed egg salad across the door. A note, barely clinging to the plastic, read: From your pal, Dash. Judging by the smell, it had been there for days.
Danny glanced around, then muttered a short incantation under his breath. He flicked his fingers in a small, circular motion.
A faint shimmer swept across the locker. The foul stench lifted, replaced by the crisp scent of lemon and pine. The sandwich was still there, gross as ever, but at least now it didn't smell like something that had clawed its way out of a swamp.
"Small wins," Danny muttered, shutting the door and walking off toward the court.
With any luck, today's biggest challenge would just be avoiding a basketball to the face.
"Let's go, people!" he barked, voice sharp as ever. "High knees! Lunges! Touch your toes, not your ankles! This ain't a tea party!"
Students groaned but obeyed, scattering across the gym floor and easing into the usual warm-up routine. Danny lingered near the back of the formation, doing just enough to stay under the radar. It wasn't that he hated PE, it was that Dash and his crew treated it like a full-contact sport, even when it wasn't.
After stretching and jumping jacks, Coach Brenner called out the day's options.
"Basketball and volleyball rotations are set up. If you owe me laps or haven't finished your fitness test, the pacer's running."
Coach blew his whistle and split them into teams. Danny ended up on the side opposite Dash and Bryce, which honestly felt like a small victory in itself. The last thing he needed was to be shoved around by Dash in a "friendly" scrimmage.
But today, as he jogged across the court and passed by midcourt, he felt a different kind of curiosity stirring in the back of his mind. Stolas had always warned him not to use magic casually, but… 'What if I actually used a spell… just for a little edge?'
The ball came his way on the rebound. Danny caught it cleanly, bounced it once, and glanced toward the hoop. He was just over the half-court line, way too far to make a shot under normal circumstances. A defender closed in. No time to dribble forward.
"Might as well try," he muttered under his breath.
He whispered the incantation quickly and quietly. A faint shimmer passed behind his eyes, barely noticeable. He planted his feet, pivoted, and launched the ball in a high arc.
The moment it left his fingers, he felt it. Like something inside him had guided the throw, smoothed the angle, tightened the release, and measured the distance perfectly.
The ball sailed through the air in a clean curve, dropping through the net with a flawless swish.
For a moment, the gym fell silent. Even the sound of sneakers squeaking and bouncing basketballs paused as heads turned. Bryce blinked. Even Coach looked up from his clipboard, brows raised in mild surprise.
"Nice shot, Fenton," someone muttered nearby.
Danny couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. It was small, subtle, but full of quiet pride. 'Huh. So True Strike works on sports, too.'
He jogged back into position as the game resumed, heart beating a little faster, not from the run, but from the spark of realization. 'That… opens up a lot of possibilities.'
Was it cheating? Yes. Did Danny expect to do this to become some sort of all-star sports jocky? Hell no. Danny just wanted not to weigh the team down and contribute just a little.