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Poppy put her hands on her hips and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Seriously, Cat, I don’t believe this.”
    â€œI’m really sorry. It’s washable ink. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”
    â€œAnd what’s in the cupboard?” Poppy said, as another muffled thud came from inside.
    â€œClothes, Mamma, that’s all.”
    â€œReally!” Poppy looked like she didn’t believe a word of it. “Let’s see, shall we?” And marching over, she flung open the cupboard door. Cat’s white winter jacket flapped out, waving its arms about and flopping across the floor like a giant puffy ray. It was considerably calmer than the last time Cat saw it, and she gave a sigh of relief.
    â€œYou should have seen my jacket yesterday, Mamma. It was really out of control.”
    â€œThis whole thing is out of control,” Poppy said, holding out her hand. “You have no idea what you’re doing, Cat. I need you to give me the wand.”
    â€œMamma, no! Please, please, please don’t take my wand.”
    â€œMagic isn’t a game, Cat. Now give me the wand before someone gets hurt.”
    â€œBut will you let me try out for Ruthersfield?” Cat pleaded. “I know I can get better if I practice and take lessons.”
    â€œCat, I’m sorry. This affects the whole family. The answer’s still no.” Poppy stepped toward her daughter and gently took the wand from Cat’s hand. “I know this seems tough to you right now, but one day you’ll understand.” She shoved the wand in her apron pocket as if she couldn’t bear to touch it, and her voice grew tight. “I will not have magic in this house.”
    â€œYou’re taking away my dream, Mamma.”
    â€œOh, Cat,” Poppy murmured, opening her arms wide. But Cat stepped away. She didn’t feel like being hugged right now.

Chapter Eight
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Peter Helps Out
    C AT HAD HOPED HER MOTHER might have reconsidered overnight, but she knew as soon as she entered the kitchen the next morning that nothing had changed. Le Nozze di Figaro , one of Marie Claire’s favorite operas, was playing loudly, while Poppy stood over a tray of cupcakes, piping swirls of creamy frosting on top. Her body looked stiff, as if she was holding herself tight, and she worked with a fierce intensity. Marie Claire sat at the table with her chin in her hands, staring out the window, and Cat got the feeling they had been discussing her. She helped herself to a bowl of cereal, ignoring the fresh muffins and croissants, and sat down beside Marie Claire.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Marie Claire murmured. She patted Cat’s hand and whispered, “Give your mother time, Cat. This is hard for her. It is bringing back memories she would rather forget.”
    As soon as Cat got on the bus, she could tell that most of the kids already knew what had happened in the bakery the day before. They were whispering and pointing as she walked down the aisle, and Cat was surprised to see Anika sitting next to Karen Miller. Anika always saved the seat beside her for Cat.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Anika said, fiddling with a strap on her backpack. “My mum’s a bit worried about me, you know, getting too close to you at the moment.”
    â€œWhy?” Cat said, hovering in the aisle.
    â€œSit down,” the bus driver shouted, and Cat took the empty seat opposite.
    â€œWhy?” she said again, leaning over toward Anika.
    â€œBecause you’ve got the magic gene,” Karen Miller announced. “Maxine Gibbons told my mum.”
    â€œI’ll bet she told everyone’s mum,” Cat muttered.
    â€œIt’s just that my parents are a little afraid,” Anika said. “They think because you attacked Maxine with a flying éclair, you might do something to us.”
    â€œBut I didn’t attack her,” Cat said. “Well, not on purpose. I was just trying to