It wasn't the pastry's fault. Lyra had to keep reminding herself of that.

Choux pastry hadn't asked to be discovered. The first paris-brest recipe hadn't forced itself into existence. If fault lay with anyone, it was with the intrepid bakers of yore who had set out into the unknown pastry wilds so long ago, charting new territory just as Lyra and her friends hoped to do with Enjoyment.

And Lyra couldn't even blame those long-ago bakers. Not with a good conscience, anyway. No doubt their intentions had been as pure as hers. Neither could she deny that the results of their labors were deliciously important to the baking world. Well-made choux pastry was a little puff of rapture. A perfectly executed paris-brest was nothing short of exquisite.

Lyra swallowed hard as she added butter, water, and milk into the saucepan on the stove, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

Nope. For this afternoon's cornucopia of anxious distress, she could blame only herself. Despite her best efforts and her friends' faithful counsel, Lyra hadn't fully embraced this type of pastry. She had settled for an uneasy peace with choux in general, and with paris-brest in particular.

Now the piper had to be paid. Quite literally.

Setting the jug of milk down, she found her eyes wandering briefly around the room. Mac was rolling out dough with uncharacteristic vigor and focus. The glowing dome of purple Presentation magic over his counter was so big and intense that Lyra couldn't even see her friend's hands.

One corner of Lyra's mouth turned up in a tiny smile. She knew Mac had been every bit as scared of pastry as she was, but that had just made him work harder. It seemed like all his dedication was paying off.

Her gaze drifted to the work-station closest to the professors' platform. Caramelle was bent low over a saucepan, blue Texture sparkles drifting up in a swirl around her auburn coils. Clearly, 'The Meringue' was having no trouble at all with her exam assignment.

The sight didn't make Lyra fume in envious resentment like it had in the past. Instead, it caused the other half of her mouth to turn up, completing her smile.

They had certainly had some rough times the previous year, but the air around Caramelle vibrated at such a different frequency these days. It was difficult to resent the budding Texturist's success when the girl worked so hard. Even more so when she loved the discipline of baking so genuinely.

Finally, Lyra's eyes settled on Boysen, who had his back to her. He was crouched in front of the oven set into his work-station, his hands resting gently on the door. She realized he must be in the baking stage of his shortcrust recipe. Green light pulsed around his fingers as he sang the Flavor Shortcrust Spell, so softly that Lyra couldn't discern which filling variation he was using.

'Boysen While Baking' had always been a source of endless fascination for Lyra. A transformation occurred whenever he became fully absorbed in a project. Every muscle in his tall, lanky form went absolutely still. Even the air around him seemed to slow down, circling in a focused way that was somehow comforting. Everyone fortunate enough to be in his vicinity was simultaneously soothed and inspired.

At least, Lyra always was…

A bubbling sound slowly intruded upon her senses. With a start, she realized she had been staring at the Flavor King's back for… as long as it took for milk to come to a boil. Trying to convince herself that the flush on her cheeks was merely the result of standing over a warm stove, she removed the pan from the heat and reached for the flour.

No matter the weather, the show must go on, she thought as she measured flour into the pan. Or the 'choux', in this case.

Taking a deep breath, she began singing the Choux Charm for Texture:

"Stir, and add, and stop when there's enough That's how magic's born from simple 'stuff'"

As always, Lyra had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. The Choux Charm for all three disciplines was the most mundane spell she had encountered yet at the academy. No one knew who had first invented the charm, but Lyra guessed that some bored baker from history had just repeated these lines to themselves often enough to imbue the words with magical power.

At least the recipe variations added some level of interest to the otherwise dull charm. Though Lyra and Mac had grumbled long and loudly about the difficulty of adapting the spell to so many different recipes, neither could deny that some were downright fun to sing. Lyra's favorite was the profiterole version. Singing the straightforward melody so quickly and bouncily made her feel like puffs of joy were exploding in her mouth.

The paris-brest variation wasn't nearly so amusing, but it was the one Lyra was most proud of. It had taken several rounds of trial-and-error to find the most suitable tempo. The dough had to be light enough to rise, but sturdy enough to pipe two concentric circles with a third on top. Then the whole ring had to be cut in half horizontally, like a hamburger bun, without losing any of its layers.

It was Caramelle who had helped her crack the Texture part of the charm. Singing at a slow, steady tempo while stirring in the flour resulted in a firm yet flexible dough, especially if you could drop the melody down by several keys. Lyra found it worked best if she imagined herself piping out those pesky circles, and then matched her stirring and singing to that pace.

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The same worked for the crucial 'adding in the eggs' process. Lyra merely sang through the charm again at the same low octave and steady pace while slowly pouring beaten eggs into the dough. If she stopped adding eggs as soon as the song was finished, the dough was almost always at the right consistency.

Almost.

Lyra's heart sank at the watery blue shade of the Texture magic bubbling around her finished dough. It was definitely choux, of course. The charm had worked. But it wouldn't be nearly the level of sparkling quality expected of a second-year student at the Royal Academy of Magical Baking.

The sound of pen scratching against parchment made Lyra look up sharply. To her surprise and relief, the Apprentice Baker standing by her station was neither the intimidatingly muscled Florentine nor the pale, vindictive ghost that was Eclair. Rye Galette was writing diligently in a notebook, glancing around the room every so often to gather details. Catching Lyra's eye, he gave her a nod and a friendly grin.

Lyra returned both nod and grin with a heart already bouncing back from the depths. Just as the sight of her three colleagues had braced her to begin the paris-brest, Rye's cheerful presence pushed her forward to the recipe's next stage.

A chime from the clock reminded her that she didn't have time to wallow anyway. The exam was halfway over, and this choux wasn't going to pipe itself.

The next two hours passed in a blur of soft singing and rapidly moving hands. Lyra tried to ignore the seconds slipping away as she piped the dough into three circles, singing the Presentation Choux Charm at the paris-brest tempo. She tried to ignore her own disappointment when the burst of purple light wasn't quite as vibrant as she remembered from when she'd performed the spell in class. She tried to ignore the mounting stress caused by Florentine's apparent determination to spend the rest of the exam writing furiously right next to Lyra's work-station.

It helped that the Flavor portion was as fun as ever. Not even choux weirdness could spoil the satisfaction Lyra felt whenever she got to activate her Flavor instincts, especially when the Flavors in question were as delightful as hazelnut and vanilla.

Lyra popped the pastry into the oven and sang the Flavor Choux Charm over it with gusto. Then she switched to the Deepening Spell from Madame Hazelnut herself as she whipped up the mousseline, keeping one eye on the oven and both ears listening for the complementary melodies of the mousseline's assigned Flavors. It was hard to keep her voice at a respectful low volume, but the vibrancy of the green sparkles that burst from the finished mousseline was worth every effort.

Just like there was no time to wallow, though, there was also no time to savor the Flavor exultation. The baked pastry went straight from the oven to the magical cooling drawer. This gave Lyra time to prepare a caramel glaze for the finishing touch.

As soon as the pastry was cool enough, it was time for assembly. For this, Lyra turned to her old Presentation friend: Madame Temper's Chant of Precision.

The familiar tune forced Lyra's rapidly beating heart into a calmer rhythm. Sure, the clock was ticking away, but Madame Temper had never let Lyra down. This was the first Presentation spell she had ever learned. She had used the beginner level of the chant to grand effect in the entrance exam that won her a place at the royal academy. Lyra was confident the advanced version would help her over this last pastry hurdle.

Carefully, she inserted a serrated knife into the choux ring, holding the blade parallel to the counter. Carefully, she sliced all the way through, then rotated the ring until she had a clean top half and bottom half. Very carefully, breathing only so much as was necessary to keep singing the chant, she piped hazelnut mousseline in swirls onto the bottom ring. She reached the end of Madame Temper's chant at the same moment she placed the upper choux ring half on top to complete the 'sandwich' effect, smiling at the tingle of purple Presentation magic surging through her fingertips.

And not a moment too soon. Professor Puff's calm voice was announcing that only five minutes remained in the exam.

Lyra mentally thanked every spice in the cabinet that she had already plated the quiche. It needed no further attention. She had just enough time to transfer the paris-brest to a waiting platter and drizzle caramel glaze over it, singing one round of Master Glaze's Shine Spell as quickly as she could. The burst of purple sparkles felt a bit haphazard, but it would have to do. She moved both platters to the end of her work-station, placed the bowls in the sink, gave the counter a single swipe with a cleaning cloth, and collapsed onto her stool just as Professor Genoise raised his hand.

"Time is up, Aspiring Bakers! We shall be coming around for evaluation now."

The professors went to Caramelle first. Even from several feet away, Lyra could tell her friend's chocolate eclairs were absolute dreams of perfect pastry Texture. If she squinted, she could swear she saw blue sparkles still swirling around Caramelle's hands, though the Texture spells had surely been completed hours before.

Lyra caught Caramelle's eye and smiled as the professors nodded vigorously at each other. Another Meringue success for the books… but this time, without the scheming and sabotaging. Or a nervous breakdown.

Second year… might be all right, she thought.

Boysen was next. The professors didn't speak, but their rapture over his crullers was obvious. As for the shortcrust recipe, the smell of his lemon coconut tart had been making Lyra's mouth water all afternoon. She had no doubt the Flavor King was living up to his title today.

Then it was Lyra's turn. Professor Genoise beamed and bounced over her quiche nearly as brightly as Professor Honeycomb. Professor Puff gave her a slow smile after the first bite. The paris-brest, on the other hand, received no such overt reaction. They simply examined, tasted, nodded at each other, and made notes.

Lyra forced herself to keep smiling. After all, they hadn't looked disappointed. There had been no frowns or narrowed eyes. Considering what choux pastry had put her through, she could be grateful for a few quiet nods.

Finally, the professors arrived at Mac.

Professor Honeycomb actually squealed. Professor Puff applauded. Professor Genoise took off his chef's hat and gave Mac a deep bow.

Lyra just stared, speechless. Macaron Fondant, who went pale at even the mention of the word 'pastry', had created a resplendent croquembouche: a tower of perfect profiteroles. The lofty structure was light, layered, airy, and held together exquisitely by a lattice of whipped cream and expertly drizzled caramel. Both it and his cherry chocolate tart radiated the glow of an undeniably high-level Presentation spell.

She glanced at her classmates. Boysen was grinning at Mac and waving his hands in silent celebration. Caramelle had actually gotten off her stool and crept closer, trying to get a better look at the gorgeous creations. Her mouth was hanging open in awe.

The professors lingered at Mac's work-station for several minutes before returning to the platform. Their deliberations were even shorter than usual. Absolutely no one was surprised when Professor Genoise raised his hand once more.

"Second-years, we are thrilled to reward the first term Stellar Enchantment Pin… to Aspiring Baker Macaron Fondant!"

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