The Wizard Hat That Was Too Big

Fern was the youngest wizard in the tower. On her seventh birthday, the old wizard Bartholomew gave her a present: a tall, starry, pointy hat.

Fern put it on. It slid right down over her eyes, past her nose, and stopped at her chin. "It's perfect!" she said, from inside the hat.

"You'll grow into it," said Bartholomew.

Fern wanted to try a spell straight away. She pushed the hat up, waved her wand at a teacup and said, "Teacup, float!" But the hat slid down again, and she couldn't see.

The teacup didn't float. The cat did. It drifted up to the ceiling, looking very surprised.

"Oops," said Fern. "Cat, come down!" The cat came down. So did all the books from the top shelf, thump, thump, thump.

Bartholomew chuckled. "Magic needs two things," he said. "Practice, and being able to see what you're doing."

So Fern rolled up a sock and stuffed it inside the hat. Now it stayed on her head, just above her eyebrows.

Every day she practiced. Day one, the teacup wobbled. Day two, it hopped. Day three, it floated just a little. Day four, it floated all the way up, and back down, without spilling a drop.

"Well done," said Bartholomew. "Shall we try something harder?"

Fern grinned. She pointed her wand at the cat. "Cat, purr," she said. And the cat purred, which, to be fair, it was going to do anyway.

⭐ The End ⭐