“Yeah, magic, I’m a Witch, why?” Clara said nonchalantly. Ophelie was livid and flabbergasted (she didn’t think of this word often, but such a situation warranted it). Her friend, Clara, had said magic? She knew the world had magical users, of course, it was common knowledge after all, but it was rare.

  Few people could wield magical energies to their will, and most of them were weak, some telekinesis at best, maybe a fire starter, nothing more. Those born with magical talent were rare, and usually picked up at sixteen years old to train in magical theory, in case you were strong enough the State (or worse, the world) needed you.

  But she was twenty, and she assumed so, her friend was as well, what the hell was she doing in a Drama University when she potentially had enough power to bend the rules of society in her favour? Ophelie calmed herself, Clara was her friend, she wouldn’t use her or use magic on her without her consent she was safe.

  Clara saw how Ophelie reacted and cringed “I’m sorry Ophelie, I swear it’s nothing too important, yeah it’s magic and yeah I have… more power than everyone would think I would, but it’s okay, I will protect you really, believe me” She smiled softly and side-hugged her friend, who started crying softly.

  —

  After ten minutes — or maybe an hour — Ophelie stopped weeping and fell on her crush’s lap. She sighed “You really can wield magic? And what were you talking about with my body, you can alter other people’s bodies? It’s a little… dangerous” Ophelie whimpered.

  “Yup, and well, it’s more complicated than that. I can alter other people’s bodies sure, but only with their conscious and unconscious consent, and then I can only make modifications which don’t contradict their internal image.” She explained, deep into magitheory.

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  Ophelie stopped her “Internal Image?” she asked, she had no idea what her friend was talking about. An internal image, magic, consent, it ringed up in her ears as she tried to parse and understand, but her mind was throwing parsing errors after parsing errors.

  Clara smiled softly “Yeah the Internal Image of a person is their… well it’s how their mind, which is an abstract simplification of reality, trust me consciousness and being sentient is weird in magitheory.” she stopped herself from rambling, “Sorry I’m rambling, what I’m saying is, you, your mind, your consciousness, whatever you want, contains an image a map of your ideal body, influencing all your choices. If your body isn’t synchronised with your internal image then it causes the magical internal-external body desynchronisation syndrome better known as Gender Dysphoria or Body Dysmorphia.”

  Ophelie needed a minute, or ten, to comprehend what Clara just dumped on her. Body maps. Internal images. Gender Dysphoria and Body Dysmorphia. She was utterly lost, and her head was spinning faster than the Earth.

  Clara just picked her friend up, hugged her completely, and petted her, until she calmed down. It took a few more minutes before the witch continued “Sorry for dumping all of this information on you, the bottom line is, I get it, I saw my parents help a lot of trans folx too, so I can help you.”

  —

  They started their movie night, to make some time for Ophelie to make up her mind. They were on their second movie, the 2034 remake of a sappy sapphic film, they were both transfixed as the love interest and the main character were approaching each other.

  Ophelie lay entirely on Clara’s body, not that the weight was a problem for Clara — she was pretty light and small. They were both eating some popcorn and unbeknown to them, they both really wanted to kiss the other. But for now, they were cuddling and munching some popcorn.

  Clara giggled suddenly, “What?” Ophelie said, waking up from a light slumber, her friend was comfortable.

  Clara smirked “Nothing ba- Ophelie, you’re really cute. I was lightly monitoring your stress levels with you know magic and I see they are much better now. Are you ready to decide?” She finished smiling at her small friend.

  Ophelie blushed, “Will-” she tried, “Will you see my, well, my internal image?” she finished, her face a deep crimson.

  Clara laughed out loud, like, really she laughed like her life depended on it. “Honey, I am the one making the spell, if I can’t see your internal image how would I be able to pull it?” she smirked, sending flutters down Ophelie’s stomach.

  With a tiny, high, voice the latter consented to the spell. Clara looked deeply into Ophelie’s eyes, conveying raw feelings over a non-existent link, but somehow she understood and nodded.

  The spell finished with Clara kissing her.