Fairy School Drop-out

by Meredith Badger

  FAIRY

  SCHOOL

  Drop-out

  FAIRY

  SCHOOL

  Drop-out

  BY

  MEREDITH BADGER

  Fairy School Drop-out

  published in 2006 by

  Hardie Grant Egmont

  85 High Street

  Prahran, Victoria, 3181, Australia

  The pages of this book are printed on paper approved by the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC), which promotes responsible management of the world’s forests.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means without the prior permission of the publishers and copyright owner.

  A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia

  text copyright © 2006 Meredith Badger illustration and design copyright © 2006 Hardie Grant Egmont

  Cover and text design by Sonia Dixon Design Illustrations by Michelle Mackintosh

  Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group

  5 7 9 10 8 6 4

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter twelve

  Chapter One

  If you happened to look through the kitchen window of 27 Raspberry Drive at 7:50 last Friday morning, you would have seen something so totally normal you wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Mrs Knottleweed-Eversprightly was rushing around, trying to find her toolbox before she flew off to work. Mr Knottleweed-Eversprightly was there too, making sandwiches at the kitchen bench. Kara, the baby, was in her high chair, drooling as usual. And Kara’s big sister Elly was eating her muesli and reading a comic book before she headed off for school. It was, in fact, all very dull. You might have even yawned a bit before you went on your way because the scene in the kitchen was so boring. Maybe you would’ve told yourself that you should really stop staring in other people’s windows, because you never saw anything interesting anyway.

  But if you had been a bit more patient and had stayed looking in the window a little longer, you would’ve seen something very strange start to happen. Not the sort of thing that happens in the average household at breakfast time at all. At 7:55, Elly’s muesli bowl began to quiver. Two minutes later it started rocking from side to side. At exactly 8 o’clock, the muesli bowl hopped across the table seven times, splashing milk around as it did. Elly tried to pin it down with her spoon but the bowl kept sliding out of the way. Then at 8:01, the bowl floated up into the air.

  ‘Stop that!’ Elly said crossly, trying to grab it. ‘Come back here immediately.’

  But the muesli bowl continued floating higher and higher until it was positioned directly above her head. Elly had a feeling she knew what was coming next but there was nothing she could do except squeeze her eyes shut. Sure enough, the bowl tipped upside down and Elly found herself covered in sultanas and oats, with a river of cold milk flowing down the back of her neck.

  Kara laughed and banged her spoon on her highchair. Elly removed a bran flake from her ear and glared at her baby sister.

  ‘You did that on purpose,’ she said. ‘Everyone else might think you’re cute and innocent but I know better. You’re too smart for your own good.’

  Kara did what any baby would do. She drooled some more. But this wasn’t ordinary drool. Kara’s drool sparkled like it was filled with tiny crystals.

  Mrs Knottleweed-Eversprightly rushed into the room.

  ‘Elly, have you seen my ...’ she started, but stopped short when she saw her breakfastcovered daughter.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked crossly. ‘There’s no time for messing around. You have to leave for school in a minute.’

  ‘It wasn’t me, mum,’ explained Elly. ‘It was Kara.’

  Mrs Knottleweed-Eversprightly shook her head sadly. ‘Oh, Elly.’

  Elly knew what her mum was thinking. ‘But it’s true!’ she protested. ‘Why won’t anyone ever believe me that Kara knows magic? We’re fairies after all, aren’t we? We’re supposed to do stuff like that.’ It made Elly grumpy that no-one ever believed her. To make matters worse she could feel a cold, mushy bran flake sliding down her back.

  Elly’s mum sighed. ‘Kara’s far too young to know any magic.’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t me,’ grumbled Elly, but there was no point arguing. The most annoying part was that Elly knew there was no way she could’ve made the bowl rise like that, even though she was much older than Kara and was already going to one of the best fairy academies in Fairydom. In fact, Elly had already been to three of the best fairy academies in Fairydom – but unfortunately, she’d also been expelled from two of them. Both times it had been because of things she’d done accidentally, although no-one believed her. That was the problem with coming from a famous fairy family – everyone assumed that you knew exactly what you were doing when it came to magic.

  Elly was prepared to admit that the first time she was thrown out of school was because of something silly she did. The drinking fountain in the toilets at Dandelion Grove School was broken so Elly had jammed her wand onto the button to make it work. It did the trick, but probably a little too well. Water spouted up into the air so strongly that it broke through the roof and surged through to the classroom above. Elly still thought it was unfair that she got blamed because a teacher happened to be standing exactly underneath the water as it burst through. Miss Pinkleberry had been lifted by the water up through the ceiling of the classroom. A wet fairy finds it difficult to fly so poor Miss Pinkleberry was forced to bounce up and down on the jet until someone rescued her.

  At Crystal Dell School the problem had been because Elly caught a flyrus. A flyrus is like a virus, except it affects wings and makes anyone who catches it fly backwards. Unfortunately, they are highly contagious and before long the whole school, including the teachers, were all flying backwards and bumping into each other. Elly was sent home to recover but when she was well again the Head-Fairy suggested it might be best if Elly found another school. Elly thought this was mean. She hadn’t meant to catch the flyrus after all.

  Now she was at her third school – The Mossy Blossom Academy for Young Fairies. It had taken lots of effort by her parents to convince the school to take her. Madame Silverwings, the Head-Fairy, had already been warned about Elly.

  ‘This is your last chance,’ her mother warned Elly on her first day. ‘No other school will accept you if you’re thrown out again and then you’ll never get your Fairy Licence.’ Elly promised to try hard. And she was trying. It was just that things didn’t always go the way she planned.

  ‘Get changed, Elly,’ said her mum as Elly trudged upstairs. ‘And don’t forget your wand!’ she called after her.

  Uh-oh ... Elly scrambled around in a pile of clothes until she found her wand. There was a great big dint in the handle. Elly gave it a shake and turned it on. The wand played its usual startup tune but it sounded a little wonky. The star at the top was dim, too. Elly shook it again and the wand made a sound like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on. Great. The last thing Elly needed was a wand breakdown on top of everything else.

  ‘Elly! It’s time to leave!’ called out Mrs Knottleweed-Eversprightly.

  Elly quickly tried to brush the muesli out of her hair and pulled on a clean school uniform. In the first year at Mossy Blossom, you had to wear a knee-length, baby-blue tutu. There was also a wreath of flowers for your head and soft blue sl
ippers with big blue bows for your feet. Elly hated the uniform. She hated the itchy tutu and she hated the scratchy wreath. But most of all she hated the stupid shoes with those dumb, floppy bows. Elly’s slippers were now splattered with milk. She took them off and pulled on her favourite red boots instead. Much better!

  Her mum called again, impatiently. ‘Come ON, Elly!’

  Elly grabbed her skateboard and shoved it in her bag before dashing downstairs. Her mum caught her for a quick hug and a wet kiss as she rushed out the door.

  ‘Be good,’ she said.

  ‘Of course!’ Elly replied, hoping her mum wouldn’t look at her feet.

  ‘And fly with the Fairy Flock this morning, OK?’ called Mrs Knottleweed-Eversprightly as Elly dashed off. ‘It’d be nice to have one week where your Head-Fairy didn’t call me up about some rule you’ve broken!’

  ‘See you later!’ called Elly over her shoulder. Maybe she could pretend she hadn’t heard that last bit ...

  Chapter two

  Now, maybe you’re reading this and thinking that Elly and her family don’t sound like real fairies. Perhaps you think you’re an expert because you’ve read all the fairy books and seen all the fairy movies. Well, forget all that stuff, because it’s probably wrong. Most humans wouldn’t recognise a fairy, even if there were one living right next door to them. And there might well be. For some reason, most humans think that fairies live in toadstools. Let’s get one thing straight right from the start. They don’t. They live in houses, just like humans. Don’t believe it? Have a look at the size difference between a fairy and a toadstool:

  Would you want to live in a toadstool? Exactly. Neither would a fairy.

  1. Although fairies are naturally very small (about the size of a ten-year-old’s hand) they can stretch themselves up to human proportions using an Anatomical Resizing Machine. They have to do this every week, however, because fairies soon start shrinking back to their normal size.

  2. Humans often live in the same streets as fairies without realising. This is just the way fairies like it. Imagine if humans knew that they had fairies living next door – they would be constantly hassling them to grant wishes and fix things. Fairies prefer to choose for themselves whose wishes – and which wishes – they grant.

  3. Most fairies aren’t born knowing magic. They learn it at school. Then after three years’ study, they receive their Fairy Licence which qualifies them to do spells.

  4. To avoid being recognised, fairies keep their wings tucked away under their clothes or hidden in special wing-hiding backpacks. Sometimes, if you look carefully, you can see the slots in their clothes where the wings usually pop through.

  5. There are boy fairies as well as girl fairies. Boy fairies can’t fly or do magic but they are often excellent cooks. And here’s a fairy fact that might really surprise you:

  6. Not all fairies like being fairies.

  Elly was one such fairy. She didn’t just not like being a fairy, she hated it. She hated it more than paper cuts. More than cold baths. More than jam and anchovy sandwiches. What exactly did she hate about it? Everything. The stuff she was meant to wear. The things she was meant to learn. But most of all, she hated flying. Flying might look like fun but Elly found it tiring and boring. Besides, skateboarding was so much more fun.

  Elly had spent a lot of time working on her skateboard. She only had the standard fairy model – the Star Grazer I – but it was even faster than a Star Grazer III because of all the extra work she’d done on it. She’d saved up for rainbow speed wheels that spun so fast they left a rainbow pattern behind them on the path. As a finishing touch, Elly had painted a cool silver comet across the board. Skateboarding was definitely Elly’s favourite way to get around.

  So the moment she got around the corner from her house Elly got her skateboard out of her bag. She was just about to ride off when she remembered what her mother had said: Catch the Fairy Flock to school.

  The Flock was another thing Elly hated about being a fairy. It was the way most fairies got to school, travelling in one big group disguised as a cloud. The passengers had to wear cloud coats – floaty, white garments that looked like they were made from cotton-wool, with slots in the back for wings to stick through. As the Flock passed overhead, fairies waiting on the ground flew up to join it. From a distance the Flock looked just like a soft white cloud, drifting across the sky. Most humans wouldn’t think twice about it. But then most humans aren’t very observant. If they paid more attention they would notice that some clouds travel very rapidly across the sky. If they listened more carefully they might even hear voices seemingly coming from nowhere, saying things like ‘Ow! Stop pushing!’ and ‘Wait ... this is my stop!’

  Elly couldn’t decide what to do. She knew she should do what her mum said, but catching the Flock was terrible. As she stood there deciding, she heard a voice behind her. Not a very pleasant voice.

  ‘Well, if it isn’t the fairy school drop-out,’ it said. ‘Thinking about travelling the normal way today, are you?’

  Without even looking Elly knew who it was. Gabilotta Cruddleperry, also known as Gabi. Gabi was Mossy Blossom’s star pupil and one look at her explained why. Her hair was perfect, her cloud-coat was perfect and her neatly packed bag was undoubtedly filled with perfect homework. For some reason, Gabi had taken a dislike to Elly right from the first day of school. This might’ve been because Elly had accidentally made Gabi grow a big bushy moustache during their first spelling lesson. Elly had apologised, of course, and had removed the moustache (which curled up magnificently at the ends) the moment she worked out how. But things were never the same after that.

  Seeing Gabi helped Elly make up her mind.

  ‘Actually,’ said Elly, putting her skateboard on the ground again, ‘I’m going to ride.’

  Gabi frowned. ‘It’s against the Fairy Code, you know.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ said Elly. ‘Where does it say that?’

  ‘Page 539, paragraph two,’ replied Gabi. ‘It says: The only way in which a school-fairy should travel to and from school is by flying or walking. You should know that. After all, wasn’t it one of your ancestors who wrote the Code in the first place?’

  Elly shrugged. ‘Maybe.’ It was hard to keep track of her family’s achievements sometimes. They’d all done so much.

  A puffy white cloud appeared on the horizon, moving fast. The Fairy Flock. It looked like a particularly wriggly, squirmy cloud today. Elly jumped on her skateboard.

  ‘Don’t get your wings scrunched!’ Elly called to Gabi as she zoomed down the street. She didn’t have to turn around to know that Gabi was watching her leave, shaking her head in disapproval.

  Chapter three

  When Elly arrived at school, her friend Sapphire was waiting for her. Sapphire was the perfect name for her because she had the biggest, bluest eyes you could ever see. Elly sometimes teased her that she looked like the sort of fairy humans drew pictures of. Saphie was just as smart as Gabi but was much, much nicer.

  ‘Hi, Saphie!’ said Elly, quickly shoving her skateboard in her bag.

  ‘Hi!’ said Saphie. ‘Did you get my wandmessage? I sent one last night reminding you about this morning’s spelling test.’

  Elly fished out her wand, which was looking worse than ever. There were even some bite marks from where Kara had been chewing on it. Elly clicked a button and the wand whined unhappily. Finally, after a lot of spluttering, Saphie’s face appeared in the centre of the star. She was urgently mouthing words but no sound was coming out.

  ‘I think it’s broken,’ explained Elly, as Saphie’s wand-message dissolved into static. She shook the wand again and it made a sloshing noise.

  ‘I must have dropped it in the bath,’ Elly frowned.

  Saphie took the wand and checked how much power it had. It was almost empty. She looked at her friend and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘It’d probably help if you remembered to charge it up occasionally,’ she grinned.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed
Elly ruefully. ‘That’s true.’

  Before starting Fairy School, Elly had thought it would be cool to have a wand, but that was back when she thought all you needed to do was wave one around and say a few weird words for the magic to work. But it turned out that wands were much more complicated than that. It took lots of practice to make them work properly. They came with manuals that were almost as thick as the wands were high, and were about as easy to read as flying backwards through a hailstorm. Elly had lost her manual ages ago anyway, and ever since then she’d just been guessing how to use it. Guessing incorrectly most of the time, as it turned out.

  Saphie tugged Elly’s arm. ‘Come on,’ said Saphie. ‘We have to hurry. You know Mrs Clovercloud likes us to be early on spellingtest days.’

  Elly snorted. ‘Mrs Clovercloud likes us to be early every day. She also likes us to stay late. In fact, if she had her way we’d sleep in the classroom overnight.’

  But Saphie was already in the air, wings fluttering.

  ‘Come on,’ she urged. ‘Let’s go.’

  The two girls flew around the corner and straight into something warm, squishy and lemon-coloured. For a moment, Elly thought they’d flown right into an enormous custard tart, but the reality was far less pleasant.

  They’d flown right into Mrs Clovercloud. She frowned.

  ‘Fairies! What does the Fairy Code say about flying around corners?’

  Elly sighed. The Fairy Code was the first book fairies received when they started school. It was three times as thick as the wand manual and, as far as Elly was concerned, even less interesting to read. It described how fairies were expected to behave and what to do in emergencies. By the end of three years at school, all fairies were supposed to know the Code back-to-front. It was even worse for Elly because some ancient relative of hers was supposedly one of the original authors, and so everyone thought that she already knew it back-to-front.