Alice Hoffman Practical Magic Novels & Stories

Rebranding for acceptance. “I would like everyone back behind me because the spell I need to cast it like a net so I can be sure to affect it as a whole. I don’t want to catch anyone in that net.” Alfred could hear shuffling behind him as he waited. When silence reigned behind him, Alfred began casting the first spell. It took time to lay the spell down where piece by piece, but in the end, he’d magically hogtied nicely the golem if he said so himself. “There we go, now to put it into hibernation.”

‘you’ll see them flying on broomsticks, putting on black hoods, with protruded caps, they are very wicked and seeks to harvest our blood if we let them, but we can resist them’ Dike said as they approach to cross the territory of witches. He then asked everyone to bring out from their bags the portion given to them by the Oracles, ‘don’t waste it, when a witch approaches you, stay composed and make sure it gets close enough then you pour this portion on the witch and it will dematerialize before your eyes, but remember, don’t waste it and don’t use it unless it’s necessary. If you waste yours, you are gone’ he added.

I could improve my magic only after practicing what she told me a few times. On the weekdays, I decided to go home straight from work and spend every afternoon and evening practicing magic. Every time I planned to practice, I had to create a shield that would block any outsiders from glimpsing at what I was doing and hearing my words. Grandma decided to help me in my conspiracy, and even used code words to communicate with me… As much as I loved her for trying, it only made it much harder to understand her since she never consulted the meaning of the words before using them…

“So, are you excited as I am for our first day of practical magics?” The question, delivered with enough effervescence to power a small city, snapped me out of my half-eaten oatmeal. Farrah didn't just sit; she plopped down in the seat opposite me, practically vibrating with suppressed energy. Her strawberry blonde hair, usually a wild halo, seemed to literally bounce around her face, framing those wide, baby blue eyes that were practically shining with all the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning.

Like now, with Alice butchering supernatural terminology while ignoring actual parent words. "You're a terrible influence," Sarah teased, rescuing her daughter from Luna's grasp. "Teaching babies about defensive magic." "I didn't teach her! She just absorbed it through proximity!" Luna protested. "I'm very careful about age-appropriate content in my classes." "Uh-huh. Which is why a seven-month-old's second word is a magical term." Sarah kissed Alice's head. "You're lucky she's adorable." Alice chose that moment to create a tiny flicker of energy around her fist. Not a shield, barely even visible, but definitely supernatural.

- She advances in my direction and I run away without turning my back on her. —I remind you that I can hear you, and I can smell you, you filthy witch. I don't see you but I know exactly where you are. - she hisses.- If I get close enough I'll kill you with a single stab... what do you think of that ? I will be ... good to you. She smiles widely in my direction and all the blood freezes in my veins. She's right, if she gets too close I'll be screwed. And I cannot recite a poem to deprive her of each of her senses, one at a time, it would take me too long, magic has its rules...

“Killian. If you won’t let me strike, then you have to end this yourself. Before it’s too late.” The vault’s second claw ripped free. The crypt thundered with its laughter, shaking the bones from the walls. Killian lunged not at Daryl, nor at Harlow — but at the altar. He slammed both hands onto the stone, pouring his will not into fighting the shadow, but into reshaping it. His blood hissed where it touched the fissure, red sparks flying as his veins lit up. The First roared — not in triumph, but rage. The altar cracked wider. Not into the vault, but into itself — its bindings unraveling. Killian’s blood and Daryl’s, mingled, forced the magic to turn inward, eating its own foundation.

I was sitting on the porch with my dad and he was trying to teach me an old tactic that the Alphas usually use to keep a prisoner still with magic. Magic. It was old, time immortal magic. It was the kind of magic that should not have faded, the kind that I should have preserved. I shouldn’t even have avoided it for that long. It had faded in my memory, but being the Alpha, I could easily summon it. I inhaled deeply, trying to seek that deep calm that came with the command of the spirit. “You will stay here and wait for me,” I said to the prisoner.

It gives Arvin a chance to flee from his hands and shape-shift back into a human. Finn tries to move, but Alice and her entire coven step forward. There are so many witches here, and they are all focusing on bringing Finn down to his knees. "Down!" With her flaming red mane and green gown, Alice is commanding the fairy with her hands glowing with her powerful magic. "You're not allowed to move—not on my watch!" I take the form of a human and scream at the top of my lungs. "No, Alice, what the hell are you doing!"

Did she just say magic? With a bone-chilling howl, she charges. Her jaws gape, fangs glinting as they aim for my throat. But at the last moment, an invisible barrier flares around me, repelling her with brutal force. Alice yelps in surprise as she’s flung back, tumbling across the clearing. I stand impassive within the shimmering sphere, my ethereal shield a testament to the hours of preparation, the relentless honing of my powers. “You mastered how to use your powers,” Alice growls, shaking her head in disbelief.