The three boys are walking up to the eighth-floor Advanced Warding class, bookbags hanging off their shoulders. They stride past heavy tapestries and statues that nod hello, and moving portraits of roiling oceans or storm-struck planets on a dark background of the sky.

Nicholas is joking about buying a herd of sheep when he hears a loud bark. He turns around, finding that Stavros has fallen back and now Hearth stands in his place. He’s either being lazy or he wants a hug. Nicholas grins and grabs the bottom of his jumper, pulling it outwards.

Hearth takes a few running steps and jumps, claws scrambling at Nicholas’ thighs and stomach as Hearth drills up into his jumper, head popping out through the collar. Nicholas quickly pulls his jumper down and then braces it with his linked fingers, making a seat for Hearth.

The fluffy red tail still poking out wags excitedly and Hearth snickers, eyes squinted shut with a wide smirk on his face, twisting this way and that, nuzzling into Nicholas.

Nicholas coos, bouncing the fox a bit. “You get cuter every time I see you.”

They continue the walk, now with Nicholas hugging a fluffy animal. They end up talking the long way around without any shortcuts, so Nicholas gets another ten minutes until he has to dump out Hearth on the ground.

All three boys then step around the corner to see the class already gathered outside the locked classroom door, a mash of other students chattering loudly. They find a spot on the opposite wall near the large windows beaming cheery sunshine against the pale stone and lighting up the shining flecks in the building.

Rafael takes a seat on the thick stone windowsill, back to the sun-warmed glass. Stavros leans against the wall with his arms crossed and Nicholas finishes off their little triangle but stays turned out towards the hallway.

“Musa, you have the time?” Nicholas asks jokingly, kicking up a foot and nudging it into the nearby boy’s shin, then gets distracted and digs around in Musa’s bookbag for the ferret the Famure student has.

Musa looks at the drawn-on watch on his wrist, in sparkly white gel pen so it stands out on his dark skin. “Oh, says one. Need to draw some new batteries, sorry.”

“Imagine that,” Stavros muses. “You could have drawn anything, and it still looks trash.”

“This is a collector’s edition,” Musa argues and turns his arm so Stavros can see the incredibly well-drawn ahegao face on the watch, the rolling eyes pointing at one o’clock.

Stavros tilts his head a bit to see better. “Can you draw one of Raffy?” he jokes.

“No,” Rafael says.

“That’ll cost you,” Musa allows. “You know your cousin?”

“Which one?”

“The one that looks like she could eat me? I heard she ditched the new boyfriend last week.”

“Phaedra?” Stavros huffs out a laugh. “Nah, man, you stick with jerking it to your paper girlfriends.”

Musa raises an eyebrow and it disappears up into his shaggy black hair, styled into what Musa would call anime protagonist vibes. “Could draw you one of Nicky and Rafael going at it. What are you into? Your face tells me rough and mean, but soft domestic aftercare.”

“Damn, you got it in one,” Nicholas says, impressed as he re-emerges from Musa’s bag with a chubby ferret held to his chest. “Literally Ross’ entire personality.”

Stavros splutters in genuine outrage.

“Do Raffy next!” Nicholas cheers excitedly, stroking the ferret’s head gently with a thumb.

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Musa looks Rafael up and down then lets out a low whistle. “Boy’s a freak but he’ll make you breakfast in bed.”

Nicholas is wheezing.

“Thank you, I think we’re done,” Rafael says and picks up the ferret, dumping it back into Musa’s bag. “Ross, you might want to put on your game face.”

The other three follow Rafael’s lines of sight to see some students a year above coming down the hallway with particularly intent gazes.

They’re a group of year-eleven Pull The Void students, whose power is based on something or someone outside of the dimension. They always look a little messed up when they’re casting, and right now the boy heading towards them is dazed, eyes wide and expression slack.

He’s a good actor, just a pity his friends are giving him away, clustered together and watching intently from further back. Musa takes a big step back to watch with the rest of the class.

Stavros is no stranger to people approaching him, not when he looks like the kind of Greek hero who gets carved into marble, all flawless cold beauty. His blond curls are up in a bun today with his wand shoved through it and his grey eyes are bright because he knows this is going to be funny.

The Pull sways right up to Stavros, the hall hushing as they catch on to something happening. He stares straight through Stavros, voice deep and breathy. “They watch with a thousand eyes. They speak with his voice. Adam sees you-”

“You can just say you have a crush on him,” Nicholas cuts in, slinging an arm over Stavros' shoulders.

“I mean thanks, but you're not my type,” Stavros says candidly, putting his arm around Nicholas’ waist.

The Pull pauses, the vacant stare dropping off his face. “Who is your type?”

Stavros nods sideways. “You're looking at him.”

Nicholas flashes a quickfire grin, the one Stavros says makes him look like a sweet summer prince, and rakes a hand through his messy hair with his head slightly turned at the perfect angle to show off all his charming boy-next-door handsomeness.

“So you are together then,” the Pull confirms.

“We are when you're around,” Stavros retorts.

Nicholas barks out a laugh. “Shit, okay, we're just going to come straight out and tell him he’s average then?” Nicholas smiles at the Pull. “You're okay I guess, if you weren't also the kind of person to joke about my dead best friend just so you can get some dick.”

The Pull jerks back like he's been hit. “It wasn’t a joke! I was trying to comfort you, asshole. Sorry for trying to be nice.”

“You’re several weeks too late for that,” Nicholas says cheerfully. “How about you go find someone in your own league? I know a good garbage bin. I’ll even set it on fire for you.”

“Nicky!” Stavros cries in exaggerated shock and then quickly turns to the Pull. “I’m so sorry, he’s still really affected. Thank you, but you can do better than me. I'm not worth it, just ask your friend Nicole.”

The Pull whips around to see Nicole, the girl with short black hair and warm brown eyes, who had come closer with the other friends when they saw the conversation turning ugly.

Nicole blinks. “I - don't know what he's talking about!”

“Let's discuss this later,” hisses another friend and helps drag everyone off to class or free time, wherever it is they're actually supposed to be.

“Wow, that was embarrassing,” Rafael muses, not even pretending to be nice.

There are a few giggles from the rest of the class. Some of them send off whispered messages to their friends in other classes and the paper cranes flap frantically down the corridors.

Nicholas leans into Stavros and whispers. “Yo, that Nicole looks like she could be my sister.”

“Oh, what a coincidence,” Stavros says evenly.

“Why is someone already running away when I haven't even started class?” asks Ms Connell as she walks up with a thin stack of papers in hand, frowning at the Pull students ducking around the corner.

“Stavros and Nicholas were bullying someone like always,” Jules says immediately, from where he'd been lingering in the background like a bad smell.

Stavros scoffs. “You're such an ass kisser, Jules. Get over here, I want to see if you can eat ass too.”

Nicholas cracks up laughing, having to yank away from Stavros so he can brace a hand on the wall, folding over with his other hand on Rafael’s knee. Musa sucks in a sharp breath and holds the giggle but the grin slips out onto his face.

Rafael stares at Stavros in shock. “What?!”

Stavros raises his hands but can't explain himself because he's laughing too hard.

“Thanks, now I need to look up a spell to erase my memory,” Ms Connell deadpans. “Priya, what happened here?” she asks, picking out a nice, quiet student.

Mariana isn't in this class - otherwise she would have stepped in to defend the poor guy from Stavros' wicked ways and this would already be a fight.

“The Pull said something about, um, Adam. And they got into an argument,” Priya says quietly.

“One point from each of you involved in the argument,” Ms Connell says. “And five extra from the one who started it.”

There's the faint sound of lightly clinking crystals, the actual points kept in the dining hall but the sound is to make sure you know you fucked up. A few moments later the Pulls come running back around the corner to argue their case.

Nicholas takes off his glasses and wipes his eyes with his sleeve, still laughing.