All three professors were waiting in the Flavor classroom when the students arrived on the first day after break.

“Greetings, Aspiring Bakers!” Professor Genoise waved them in. “Take your seats.”

“No time to dilly-dally in the second term,” Professor Puff said dryly as the five first-years hurried to their work-stations.

Professor Honeycomb was as cheerfully welcoming as ever. “It is delightful to see you all. I look forward to hearing about your time away, but alas, my esteemed colleagues are correct. Time is precious this term.” The magical chime rang, and she bowed to Professor Genoise. “Please begin, Basil.”

He returned the bow, then faced the class. “Congratulations to you,” he said, each word as clipped and precise as his neatly trimmed beard. “You have successfully completed your first term at the Royal Academy of Magical Baking. I hope you used the break to savor that accomplishment because this term will provide no chance to do so.”

Professor Puff took up the conversational baton smoothly. “Whatever carried you through the first term will not be sufficient for the second. You cannot rest on your accomplishments. Instead, you must build upon them. Growth is the only way forward.”

“And our job is to help you grow,” Professor Honeycomb joined in. “First term was about setting a baseline. We now have a thorough understanding of your individual strengths and weaknesses, and can structure this term’s curriculum accordingly.”

“The schedule will be a tad different,” Professor Puff explained. “Each Monday morning, in this room, we will hold a mini-exam.”

Caramelle drew in a sharp breath. Lyra pretended not to notice or care that her former roommate already looked more stressed than ever.

“We spent a good deal of first term talking about community,” Professor Honeycomb reminded them. “I trust you were listening. This term, your ability to work with others will be an important factor in your progress, or lack thereof.”

Professor Genoise nodded. “Each of us will be assigning you a major project every week, due on Monday morning. But we do not expect you to complete three projects a week on your own.”

“We have put you in two groups,” Professor Puff announced. “Each group will work together on these three projects and present the results on Monday mornings. The third-years will cast preservation spells on Sunday nights as part of their rounds.”

Professor Honeycomb beamed at the class. “We took care, when assigning these groups, to put you with partners who would complement your unique baking skills.”

“Aspiring Bakers Crumble and Fondant are one group.” Professor Genoise gestured to Ginger and Mac. “Berry, Meringue, and Treble are another.”

Lyra turned around to look at Boysen, who winked at her with one of his signature whole-face grins. She grinned back, then glanced across the aisle at Caramelle.

The Meringue was staring pointedly straight ahead. Her posture was so rigid, Lyra thought a strong gust of wind might snap her in half.

Slowly, icily, Caramelle raised her hand.

“Yes, Aspiring Baker Meringue?” Professor Genoise said.

Caramelle’s voice was as frosty as the air around her. “I would prefer to work alone.”

The professors were silent for a moment.

“Is that allowed?” Lyra asked.

“It is.” Professor Honeycomb shook her head. “Though we do not recommend it. I call it inadvisable.”

“But not impossible,” Caramelle countered. “I know there is precedent. Didn’t Apprentice Baker Coulis work alone in his second term of the first year?”

“He did,” Professor Genoise replied slowly. “I trust he shared with you how difficult it was.”

Caramelle reached up to stroke the Stellar Enchantment Pin attached to her hat. “I am not afraid of hard work.”

“You will be expected to complete all three projects every week,” Professor Honeycomb warned her. “There will be no extensions or grace given because you are working alone.”

“I understand.”

Professor Puff studied Caramelle, her gray eyes unreadable. “Are you absolutely certain, Meringue?”

“I am.” Caramelle held Professor Puff’s gaze steadily. “I can do it, Professor. I need to. I believe it will be important for my growth. Please allow me to try.”

Another beat of silence followed, then Professor Puff nodded. “Very well. Aspiring Baker Meringue will be her own group, and will complete all the assignments alone each week.”

Lyra was torn between relief and concern. She was excited to partner with Boysen, and she certainly didn’t relish the prospect of working closely with Caramelle ever again. But she had been Caramelle’s roommate for three months. She knew exactly how the auburn-haired girl responded to stress, and how hard she pushed herself.

Even in her anger, Lyra had been a little worried over vacation, thinking about Caramelle alone in Pestle this term. Now, with three major projects to complete every week, completely on her own… Lyra honestly didn’t know how Caramelle would survive.

Lyra shook her head.

Not my problem, she told herself firmly. Not anymore.

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“Very well.” Professor Honeycomb wiped her hands on her apron, as though ridding herself of any guilt for Caramelle’s imminent demise. “Any other questions or concerns?”

The other four students shook their heads.

“Excellent,” Professor Genoise said. “Since there is no project due this morning, we will spend this time going over your first term exam cakes.”

“We put a preservation spell on all of them immediately after the exam, to ensure they would survive over the break,” Professor Puff said. “The Apprentice Bakers are bringing them up from the kitchens as we speak. Ah, here they are.”

Razz appeared at the door, bearing a cake in each hand. Lyra recognized Boysen’s globe and Ginger’s honeycomb instantly. Hyacinth followed with Caramelle’s resplendent creation and another, equally impressive, which must have been Mac’s. Finally, Cardamom entered, carrying Lyra’s vanilla disappointment reverently in both hands.

“Thank you, Apprentice Bakers.” Professor Honeycomb directed them to line the cakes up on her teacher’s work-station counter. “Let’s take these one at a time, shall we?”

“Beginning with Aspiring Baker Fondant,” Professor Genoise said, waving a delicate hand at Mac. “Please join us, Fondant, and tell us which flavors and spells you used from first term to recreate your final entrance exam cake.”

Mac shuffled forward, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“The original was a coffee genoise sponge with marzipan filling. Fondant on top, with a drizzle of tempered chocolate.” He glanced at Caramelle, cleared his throat, and looked at his shoes. “For Flavor, I added a coating of caramel buttercream, and caramel drizzle with the chocolate.”

“Inspired choice,” Professor Honeycomb said approvingly. “The caramel’s richness enhances the delicacy of the marzipan, and the coffee keeps it from being too sweet. Though you still need to work on your ratios, Fondant. That’s my goal for you this term. You’ve learned to listen to your instincts regarding which flavor to add. Now you can start refining how much flavor to use.”

Mac nodded. “Thank you, Professor.”

“For Texture, I believe you used Master Chiffon’s Aeration Charm?” Professor Puff inquired.

“Yes.” Again, Mac glanced at Caramelle. “The advanced version.”

Professor Puff’s stern mouth curled up in the slightest of smiles. “You came a long way last term, Fondant. There is still ample room for improvement, but this was a competent demonstration of that spell.”

“Thank you,” Mac said again. “I’ll keep practicing.”

“I know you will.” Professor Puff turned to Professor Genoise. “But the Presentation was the real star of the show. Right, Basil?”

“Absolutely.” Professor Genoise gestured to the three perfect tiers, covered smoothly in fondant. An intricate network of chocolate and caramel was drizzled over the whole thing, like a draping of lace. “I believe you employed Master Glaze’s Shine Spell?”

“That’s right,” Mac said. “Fondant can be a bit… boring. I like the extra sheen the spell provides, especially with the drizzle.”

Professor Genoise waved his hand again over the cake. “Stunning. And considering this was the only spell you were allowed, even more impressive. No cleanliness spells, but still fairly neat. And I agree: Master Glaze does provide that extra shot of glamour to elevate your choice of ingredients. Well done, Fondant.”

Mac was so pleased, he couldn’t speak. His eyes shone behind his glasses as he shook Professor Genoise’s hand.

“Not to say you can’t still grow,” Professor Genoise admonished him. “You are quite talented, but as Professor Puff said earlier, we cannot rest on our accomplishments. Knowing what you are capable of, I expect you to push yourself even further this term.”

“Of course, Professor. And thank you.” Mac returned to his seat while the other students, led by Boysen, clapped raucously.

The round of applause for Caramelle was more subdued, though still very polite. Lyra forced her face into an expressionless mask as Professor Puff praised the cake’s peerless Texture. She managed not to look smug when Professor Honeycomb observed that the Flavor was adequate, but imbalanced, due to an overabundance of caramel.

Tell me about it, Lyra thought.

But then Professor Genoise said, “Am I correct in deducing that you used Master Glaze’s spell also, Aspiring Baker Meringue? Like Aspiring Baker Fondant?”

“Yes,” Caramelle said, without a glance at Mac. “Apprentice Baker Coulis advised it, and worked with me to master the execution.”

During two weeks of vacation, Lyra had managed to forget this particular detail of deception. Now, stomach roiling, she struggled to maintain her calm mask.

How many times had the Pestle roommates practiced Madame Temper’s Chant of Precision together? How many times had Caramelle sworn that Master Glaze’s spell was too fiendishly complicated for her taste?

How many times had she lied?

Cardamom’s smooth voice cut across Lyra’s inner rant. “Aspiring Baker Meringue has made wonderful progress.” He smiled at Caramelle. “I am confident in her abilities to excel this term.”

“Only thanks to your excellent tutelage,” Caramelle said sweetly.

Lyra’s head felt like a tea kettle on high boil. She managed to join in on the second round of applause as Caramelle returned to her seat, but she kept her eyes on the professors, her posture as rigid as any Meringue.

Why are you still surprised? she asked herself. The Meringue is not to be trusted. And to think you were WORRIED about her!

In that moment, Lyra vowed not to waste any more emotional energy on Caramelle’s wellbeing. If The Meringue wanted to run herself ragged and let her ambition literally drive her into the ground, so be it.

Lyra was done.

Her inward fuming made it difficult to concentrate on Ginger’s cake. She was dimly aware that the reviews were mixed. Professor Honeycomb loved the Flavor, but the other two professors had grave concerns. Apparently, Ginger’s ‘daring’ style was a bit too audacious for Professor Genoise, while Professor Puff lamented her lack of attention to Texture details.

Lyra refocused just in time to hear Professor Puff say, “Baking is, indeed, a creative endeavor. But it also requires exactitude.”

“And discipline,” Professor Genoise added. “One must learn to make the box before one can think outside it.”

“Was it fun?” Ginger asked. She was, Lyra saw, taking it all like a champ. “I mean, fun to look at? And tasty?”

“Very tasty,” Professor Honeycomb said. “No complaints about the Flavors you chose, or their ratios. Your instincts are spot-on.”

“And the design is… fun,” Professor Genoise admitted. “Alas, fun is not enough.”

To Lyra’s surprise, Professor Puff gave Ginger a warm, encouraging smile. “Fret not, Crumble. You and Fondant will be a great help to each other this term. You can coach him in Flavor, and he can do the same for you in Presentation. And you can both work together on your Texture.”

Ginger returned the smile bravely, her head held high. “Mac is great. We’ll work hard.”

All three professors began the round of applause this time. Lyra was starting to feel better, until she saw Caramelle roll her eyes as Ginger passed. That sent another wave of rage crashing into Lyra. She spent most of Boysen’s turn floundering between indignation and anxiety on Ginger’s behalf, only emerging when Boysen returned to his seat amidst general acclaim.

It’s fine, she thought, fighting against a stab of guilt. I’m sure everyone loved him.

Turning around, she caught his eye. His grin confirmed her suspicions.

Yup. Another huge success for the Flavor King. Not sure why they don’t just move Boysen right along to the second year. He’s definitely good enough.

She gave him a thumb’s up, promising herself she’d get the details from him later.

“Aspiring Baker Treble,” Professor Genoise called, snapping Lyra’s attention back to the front of the room.

Her heart sank. There was her cake, sitting frumpily on the counter like a textbook example of ‘failure.’ She couldn’t stand the thought of that sorry excuse for a dessert being evaluated privately, let alone publicly.

Not that she had a choice in the matter.

Sure enough, the Presentation headmaster indicated the spot on the platform Boysen had just vacated, his gracious voice only emphasizing the impossibility of refusal.

“Aspiring Baker Treble, would you join us?”