As soon as the Meringues vanished through the door, a bespectacled head popped out from the room Boysen had left.

"Are they gone?" asked the head, in an anxious voice.

"It's safe, Fondant!" Boysen called. "C'mon out and greet the girls!"

The short, thin form of Macaron Fondant crossed the common area, his tan second-year apron already just as floury as Boysen's. His eyes shone behind his glasses as he gazed at Caramelle. "Greetings, girls!"

"Hullo, Mac — oof! Berry!" Lyra's greeting was cut off as Boysen tackled both her and Caramelle in a distinctly floury hug.

"We have a welcome feast to get to!" Caramelle shouted, twisting to extricate herself from the lanky boy's long-armed embrace.

"And plenty of time to prep for it," Boysen proclaimed. "At the academy, it's more important to start second year right."

"By making a royal mess?" Lyra asked, finally managing to push free and looking down at her flour-covered tunic with dismay.

Boysen winked at her. "Absolutely."

"Are you really making one of Lord Nougat's recipes?" Caramelle demanded.

"Of course!" Boysen clapped a floury hand over his heart, the picture of wounded innocence. "What, you think I would cover myself and Macaron in flour just to make your worthy parents shove off?"

"Yes," Caramelle and Lyra answered simultaneously.

Boysen placed his other hand on his forehead and turned to Mac. "Something's happened to the girls, Fondant. They've both lost all faith since last we saw them."

"You mean since Wednesday?" Lyra reminded him.

"Yes." Boysen nodded solemnly. "All the more alarming."

"He really was baking," Mac assured them. "He was already covered in flour when I got here. I just jumped in to help."

Caramelle backed slowly away from both flour-dusted boys. "That's… dedication. For both of you."

"Just when did you arrive?" Lyra asked Boysen.

He gave her one of his most winsome smiles. "Dawn. Thereabouts."

She shook her head in rueful admiration. "And you just jumped right in? Couldn't even wait for the first day of class?"

"Couldn't wait another salty second." Boysen sighed. "You know Mom kept the padlock on my experiment shed all summer. She said I would get plenty of baking time this year, and I should 'soak up some rest' so I wouldn't burn out."

Caramelle echoed his sigh. "I wish my parents operated out of that philosophy. I think I did more baking this summer than second and third terms combined."

"I'm so sorry." Lyra gave her a quick side-hug. "Honestly, I was surprised they even let you come to our weekly Whisk Whiz dinners."

"Those dinners were the reward for getting all my work done. And the constant threat of punishment. If I failed to complete any assignments, I wouldn't be allowed to go." A strange gleam arose in Caramelle's eyes. "Not that I would have let that stop me. My parents are going to have to learn sooner or later. This is a new Caramelle they're dealing with."

She tossed her head, as if trying to shake off the summer's parental burdens. Lyra noted with a private smile that Caramelle's auburn coils stayed as firmly in place as her mother's. Clearly, the 'new Caramelle' valued Self-Presentation spells as highly as the old one.

"Did it help at all that it was the Berrys?" Mac asked tentatively. "They're… important in the baking world."

"Oh yes," Caramelle replied. "If it had been a less established family hosting, Mother and Father would've put their foot down. But they can't be seen snubbing the Berrys."

Lyra glanced mischievously at Boysen. "However strongly they disagree with the family's principles?"

"That's right. I just got a long lecture on 'tradition' and 'the honor of our baking legacy' every week, before I left and as soon as I came home. They were so afraid I might get infected by the company I was choosing to keep. Then extra practice of all the hardest Texture spells the next day." Caramelle threw up her hands. "It's like they want me to hate baking!"

"All the more reason for a little floury intervention," Boysen broke in, turning the winsome smile on Caramelle. "You're welcome, Meringue."

Mac sniffed the air, then held up a hand. "Um, Boysen? You might want to check the oven."

"Right!" Boysen spun on a heel and dashed towards his room, yelling over his shoulder. "C'mon, all ye doubters. Come see Uncle Nougie's magic at work!"

Lyra and Caramelle followed at a safe distance, using Mac as a shield against the flour cloud Boysen had left in his wake.

"You know we all get our own rooms this year, right?" Lyra asked Mac. "You don't have to share with Boysen."

"Oh, this isn't my room," Mac replied, waving a hand towards a door on the left. "I'm set up over there. In Choux."

Lyra looked at the door he had indicated, noting the small drawing of a profiterole. "So, the first floor rooms were all named after kitchen implements. And the second floor is…"

"Types of pastry." Caramelle pointed back to the door in the opposite corner. "Mother and Father set me up in Filo."

"Because it's the most complicated and difficult type of pastry to make?" Lyra guessed.

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Caramelle simply sighed again in reply.

"So Mac's in Choux, you're in Filo…" Lyra looked at the door Boysen had vanished into, which bore a drawing of a cinnamon roll. "And this is Puff?"

"That's right!" Boysen popped his head out. "So you see why I had to start baking immediately. When Uncle Nougie just gave me his new recipe for pain au chocolat, and then I move into a room named after that very pastry type… the culinary gods have spoken."

"But… Puff. Won't that be confusing?" Lyra asked. "We have a Professor Puff already."

"The academy was here long before she arrived," Caramelle pointed out. "Second year curriculum focuses on pastry, so of course the dorm rooms would be named like this."

Lyra stared at her. "Second year focuses on pastry?"

"Almost exclusively," Mac said glumly. "And I thought first year was hard…"

Caramelle patted her auburn coils. "Pastry is wonderful. It's all about precision. As long as you get the equations right, you have nothing to worry about."

"Spoken like a true Texturist." Boysen gestured with one long arm across the common room at the only remaining door. "You'll be in Shortcrust, Treble. But for now, all of you come into Puff and receive the gift of Uncle Nougie's genius."

Lyra was glad to see the layout of the second floor rooms were nearly identical to the first floor. There was the couch and armchair set around a magical fire pit, just to the right of the door. The kitchen area took up just as much of the room as she remembered. There was the door in the left hand wall leading to the bathroom Boysen would be sharing with Mac. The only difference was the one bed, instead of the two included in every first-year room.

She ran a hand lightly over the back of the couch in Puff's 'living room' area as they all trooped after Boysen into the kitchen. With all the other changes to contend with this year, it was nice to encounter something familiar.

Even nicer was the tray of pastries waiting on the counter. They were golden-brown in color, gleaming with a freshly applied eggwhite wash. Each was about the size of Lyra's palm. Even without cutting into them, Lyra could tell the layers of pastry would be flaky and light. Best of all, at least to Lyra's mind, melted chocolate was oozing decadently out both ends of every pastry pouch.

"They look perfect, Boysen." Lyra inhaled deeply, smiling in delight. "And what is that I'm smelling?"

"That's what makes it a new recipe." Boysen carefully handed a pastry to each of them. "First assignment of second year. Let's whip those rusty Flavor instincts back into shape. Taste, and tell me what you think Uncle Nougie added."

The other three students obediently took a bite, each closing their eyes to concentrate fully.

"Is it… double chocolate?" Caramelle guessed.

"Coffee?" Mac raised the large pastry to his nose and sniffed. "Coffee AND double chocolate?"

Boysen's grin was mischievous. "That's two. Treble? What song do you hear?"

Lyra's eyes were still closed. The layers of pastry had been every bit as flaky and light as she imagined. It took her a few moments of chewing just to get past the Texture delights and pay attention to the Flavors. She swallowed slowly, listening hard to both her gut and her mental musical senses.

"Yes to coffee," she said finally. "And to double chocolate. But there's something else. Something very faint… just a hint of…" Her eyes flew open. "Cayenne pepper!"

"Ten points for Treble!" Boysen applauded, showering them all with another coating of flour. "These are Uncle Nougie's Spicy Mocha Pockets. A dash of cayenne pepper works with the coffee to enhance the chocolate flavor. Well done!"

Caramelle turned her 'Spicy Mocha Pocket' over in her hands, inspecting it from every angle. "Your pastry is good, Boysen. Could work in a bit more layers, but the ones you have are so airy. What spells did you use?"

Boysen received the compliment with a bow. "No spells. With a new recipe, I prefer to do it straight a few times. Get the hang of it without magic."

"Not even a Texture spell?" Caramelle's eyes widened. "Truly impressive."

"Start second year right," Boysen said, giving Lyra another wink. "Right?"

She took another huge bite from her own Spicy Mocha pocket and spoke while chewing. "I'll say. If this year will teach me to make things like this… sharps and flats, I'm ready."

"I think you mean, 'sweet and savory', you're ready."

Lyra waved her half-eaten pocket in his face as a reply.

Meanwhile, Mac was staring at the tray of pastries, his own treat forgotten in his hand. His eyes shone behind his glasses. "Just think of how amazing these would look with a little frosting. Or a ganache drizzle… yes, that's it. And Master Glaze's Shine Spell, at the Expert level, of course… and —"

Boysen stepped in front of him, holding out both long arms to block his view of the tray.

"Hands off, Fondant. Whip up your own batch to unleash your Presentation zeal upon."

"Of course!" Mac looked appalled. "I would never touch another baker's creation. Not unless specifically requested."

"That's right." Caramelle turned to Mac, bestowing one of her sweetest smiles. "Macaron is a true gentleman."

Mac stared at her, apparently having forgotten how to speak. Boysen took the pastry from his friend's hand and shoved it into his open mouth.

"Not to worry," Boysen said smoothly. "I'll share the recipe with all of you. We can all apply our particular expertise to Uncle Nougie's brainchild. I'm particularly excited to see what Treble's songs will do. Imagine a Spicy Mocha Pocket prepared to the tune of Madame Hazelnut's Deepening Spell!"

Caramelle shook her head. "I doubt we'll have much time for that. Didn't your brother say second year was the hardest? Even more than third year?"

"Razz exaggerates," Boysen replied.

"But Hyacinth doesn't," Lyra reminded him, thinking of the academy's latest Texture specialist graduate. "And she said the same thing. I think we're in for a rough year."

"But we've got Enjoyment to look forward to!" Boysen threw his arms to either side again, this time in exultant anticipation. "A whole new baking discipline, and we get to pioneer it!"

"That's part of what worries me. It's all going to be new this year." Lyra looked at Caramelle, who was nibbling daintily at her Spicy Mocha Pocket. "Is that true, what your parents said? Does half the board not agree with the addition of Enjoyment as a baking discipline?"

Caramelle took far too long to swallow. Lyra suspected this was mostly due to the girl's reluctance to answer, rather than her enjoyment of the pastry bite.

"I'm afraid so," Caramelle finally replied. "And the other half only agreed on a trial basis. It all depends on what happens this year."

The hum of anxiety that had been playing in the background of Lyra's mind all morning crescendoed into a full-on symphony.

"So… it all depends on us?" she asked, her voice sounding quiet against the raging internal chorus.

Caramelle nodded. "And they'll be watching. Trust me, half of the board will use any excuse to interfere and put a stop to the whole thing."

"C-can they do that?" Mac stammered.

Boysen whistled. "When your dad was talking about 'intense board involvement at the academy', I thought he was joking."

"My father doesn't 'joke'," Caramelle said bitterly. "Neither of them do. They'll be here the whole year, waiting for us to fail. Watching us. Watching me."

Mac's eyes suddenly flashed behind his glasses.

"Well, so will we," he declared. "Be here, I mean. Not the watching part. Or — or the failing part. But we will be here with you, Caramelle."

"Fondant's got it." Boysen placed a floury hand briefly on either side of his friend's face, leaving dusty fingerprints behind. "We may be out of Whisk, but we are Whizzes still, and forever. The Puff Whizzes will see it through."

"It?" Lyra echoed.

"The year, the work, the sharp vigilance of a bunch of stuffed baking fossils. All of it." Boysen chose a Spicy Mocha Pocket from the tray and took a huge bite for emphasis. His eyes widened.

"Thisisreallygood," he mumbled around a huge mouthful of chocolate and pastry.

Lyra smiled. "Of course it is. It was made by a Puff Whiz."

"A Puff… Paragon?" Caramelle suggested.

Boysen's eyes widened further. He couldn't produce any more words without choking, but his wild gestures indicated his full approval.

"The Puff Paragons it is." Lyra started to reach for another Spicy Mocha Pocket, then forced herself to turn away. "But for now, I'll be paragon-ing in Shortcrust for a minute. Then down to the academy kitchen."

"The kitchen?" Caramelle asked. "We still have a few hours until the welcome feast."

"Exactly," Lyra replied, already at the door. "I know a chef and a flying squirrel who could probably use some help with the preparations."

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