Zoe Gibson was ascending the staircase with her own haul of shopping bags when she heard it. Her brother's bedroom door was just at the head of the staircase, and he'd left his door just slightly ajar, so it was not difficult to make out his voice as she approached the final stair: "I wish that any clothing I wear would fit."
Zoe could only smirk. Unlike her brother, she had no problems going shopping with their mom, and actually enjoyed it. The two had sort of an unspoken agreement, that mom would pay for basic clothing, like T-shirts, jeans, sneakers, and the like, and if Zoe wanted any of her "creepy zombie clothes," as her mom called them, then she was free to use her own money to buy them. But it was still important to Zoe to make sure that she got the right cut, and the right shade, in her clothing. A burgundy tank top would be perfect under the black mesh shirt that she'd found at Goodwill, but a lavender V-neck would never do.
So while Zoe's clothes always fit, she was used to hearing Jon complain about the fit of is own. It was the next sentence that made less sense.
"Yes, it worked! They fit now! Wait, am I a little bit taller?"
Zoe peered through the gap in the door. He was. Jon was maybe an inch, inch-and-a-half, taller than he should be. Did he have magic?
Zoe's mind raced. She knew just enough about magic to know that something very powerful was afoot. But, as she looked down into the bags she was holding, she realized that she might not have to use any magic of her own if she wanted to have a little fun.
