Magic

James knew his parents were going to be very angry. He’d been told simply to tidy the house. He wished he’d just listened to them. Parents had a knack for being right in the vast majority of situations but he didn’t listen and now the problem was worse – or at the very least not greatly improved.
He’d tried to conjured a helper but somehow it had all gone wrong. Instead of a servant to sweep and clean he’d managed to create a dancing fish. The fish was green with blue dots and looked like it was made from garish bed sheets. The fish had started to sing Russian Opera.
James was only fourteen but the reversing spell had made him old and fat, the fish popped into being with a pool of water which soaked the carpet – trying to rectify that created two birds. They had glorious red, yellow, and, blue plumage. Thank fully they just sat on his shoulder and didn’t attempted to lend their voices to the opera.
James stroked the top of his lip and discovered he’d also managed to sprout a mustache. He did the only thing he could – stare at the fish and try to think before performing another spell. He turned to the stack of books behind him. They at least had avoided the water.
“I don’t suppose you two know anything about magic?” He said, ostensibly to the birds, but they were just birds.
“More than you it would seem,” the bird on this left shoulder said.
“Indeed,” said the bird on the right, “you really should pay attention in class.”
James looked between the two birds. “You too can talk?”
“Obviously.”
“Quite so.”
“Why did you come into being when I tried to reveres the spells?”
“Because your pronunciation of the spells is stupendously bad,” the one on the left said.
“So you can help me?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The birds turned to face each other. They tweeted and sang for several minutes. Then they flew from his shoulders and hovered next to the fish. “That’s enough, thank you,” said the left-hand bird.
The fish stopped singing.
“You know,” the right hand bird said, “you really should learn pronunciation. And that sometimes MAGIC IS NOT THE WAY!”
James took a step back. “Dad?”
Suddenly the birds transformed into his parents. They were still dressed in their evening best. “You are in so much trouble this time young man!”
“Yes, dad,” James said.
“Not only,” his mother said, “do you transmogrify us into birds but you teleport Mr Fragflum’s singing fish from the town hall. You will be grounded for two months for this. Now were heading back to the town hall. Clear up. Without magic!”
James watched as his parents placed a hand on the fish and they were gone in a flash. So was the water and James was left with the untidy house.