The Magic Cafe

Genevieve flitted out of the kitchen, the metal tray on her forearm jangling as the contents bounced on it. With a wave of the fingers from her free hand, the sign magically flipped around and the door swung open, the bell pealing canorously as she met the faces of her customers.

"Welcome to Magic Bakery!"

She turned around promptly and left as the customers rushed in. When she was back in the kitchen, she swallowed thickly and looked at the moving ingredients pouring over one another into a drifting bowl, the jars and bags swooping around the room. "You're managing perfectly fine , especially with your magic, okay?" she chastised herself. At that moment, the bag of flour jerked violently and sent the white powder flying into the air, just as the bell on the counter rang. Genevieve sighed in exasperation, darting through the door to greet the customer as she pinned her unruly hair up.

When she returned, eyes already heavy with exhaustion (a customer had loudly reproached her for one of the growing spells she put in her blueberry muffins as their 8 foot child crouched behind them) she dashed over to the potion cabinet and rummaged through the glasses. They clinked together as she snatched out a potion reading 'growing potion for plants', her eyes widening as she scrutinised the smaller text. 

Genevieve's antagonised groan resonated throughout the bakery, a few customer's heads turning towards the swaying kitchen door.

You'll never be able to take care of your mother like this, her mind derided. I'm not even a full-blood witch, forgive me for trying, she sourly retorted.

Genevieve's mother, the previous owner of the bakery, lay upstairs. Often Genevieve would look at her immobile body, almost expecting it to leap up and lift Genevieve back up on her back, her ringing laugh echoing around the shop as she did when her daughter was younger, but as time went on and her condition worsened, rendering her almost unable to even move her face, Genevieve's hopes grew less and less. Her face had barely aged-her eyes grew softer, Genevieve could see on the occasion that she opened them, and her solemn, unmoving face seemed to add a few years, but she looked so healthy that Genevieve's heart melted just a little every time she laid eyes on her mother and eventually realised she wasn't going to recover soon.

Curse her being a half-blood witch. Not only was she considerably weaker and clumsier, but her mother could have been alive if she was more powerful. Now she had to run a whole shop, selling her attempts at potions and spells in the form of baked goods to others to buy medicine for her mother at the age of only sixteen. 

Genevieve's hand trembled as she pressed the buttons on the till, her eyes tearing up. We'll never survive like this. The suspiciously customer glanced at the girl who was almost in tears, but grabbed their healing spell cookies and left swiftly. 

Genevieve closed for the day, somberly rolling down the curtains.  She was cleaning up the flour disaster in the kitchen, humming softly as she swayed around. The light had dimmed, the bakery once more becoming tranquil and still. She smoothed down her pink frilly apron, and set down her baker's cap.

Until a series of clashing rubbish bins and a yelp thundered across the kitchen. Genevieve tiredly raised an eyebrow, shuffling over towards the back door and peering around it. A flash of red hair appeared near the spilled garbage, and then the head of hair appeared again, in front of Genevieve. She looked down to see a boy, with his head sheepishly tilted down. He has antlers, must be a hybrid, she mused as she peered at him. The boy flushed in embarrassment. 

"I'msosorryyouseeIwasn'tspyingIwasjustcuriousandIneedworkand my- you see- antlers-"

"That's fine," Genevieve said warmly. "Just clean it up with me." 

She felt his wide, doe-like eyes examining her fearfully as she picked up all the old milk cartons, and chuckled quietly. "So, you said you need work?" Genevieve said, turning to the scrawny hybrid. He nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with a rubbish bag dangling dumbly from his antlers. She grinned at him, her hand outstretching.

"Well I need help, so you're temporarily hired for Magic Bakery by me, Genevieve!" 

His face brightened, and he beamed so brightly Genevieve was slightly stunned in the dark lighting. He bounded over, eagerly grabbing her hand and shaking it roughly. "I'm Mitsu, you don't need to worry about a single thing if I'm working for you!" He yelled joyfully, springing up and down. Genevieve smiled back at the suddenly energetic boy, leading him inside as the back door swung back shut, the small amount of sunlight left slowly ebbing away.

It had turned out, in fact, that Genevieve would have to worry about a considerable amount of things with Mitsu around. A test baking session had resulted in simple 'hair colour change' cookies turning out to be more of a.. batter? Genevieve had just stopped the fervent assistant from putting the sludge into the oven, and she silently decided he would just have to do other tasks as the boy bashfully scraped the mixture into the bin. A potion task decided Mitsu wasn't exactly built to be a wizard. 

Genevieve looked pityingly down at the redhead as he shamefully cleaned up. Perhaps he was just nervous-he didn't seem like he had a place to go to, and after all such he was such a young kid looking for work, and didn't seem too fortunate. She paced over to him and crouched down, her hand resting on his shoulder. Mitsu's face turned towards her, his expression one of mingled glumness and disappointment. 

"I'm sorry for bothering you, I'll go now." He mumbled, picking himself up. Genevieve watched him, and then burst into peals of laughter, her golden hair bouncing on her shoulders. Mitsu swiveled around, his head tilting in confusion as his scarlet hair swayed in the wind. 

"I haven't even fired you yet! Come with me." Genevieve quipped, grabbing his arm and dragging him back in. 

The next day, Genevieve was whistling merrily as she slid a tray of dough into the oven, the clanking noise slightly muffled as it settled inside, the girl rushing over to prepare lemon tarts. And Mitsu? Word goes around that the witch who owns the cafe near the town square has a new assistant-a sprightly reindeer mascot, who is a tad clumsy, yet just as lovable. They're doing incredibly well! But we'll leave the two to their own adventures from now own, as they'll figure out how to work things out. Pleasure doing business with you!