Cinderella’s fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into this, Drawn by horse to take her to the ball.

I exist to sit in water, but you’ll panic if any gets in.

I am dirty when you're clean, I get wet as you dry.

I rise without climbing, I fall without fear. I tell you the heat When warmth lingers near. Glass or digital, silent and slim, I measure the fever beneath your skin. What am I?

A slender stick of ancient lore, channeling power with a flick, it casts spells with a flourish, a wizard's trusty trick.