The Royal Academy of Magical Baking

"Take your seats, Aspiring Bakers," Professor Genoise called as the other two professors entered the Presentation classroom. "That's all for this week. I shall confer briefly with my colleagues, that we may then proceed with our traditional end-of-week meeting."

Boysen caught Lyra's eye and mouthed the word 'tribunal.' She stifled a laugh.

Settling onto her stool, Lyra took a moment to appreciate the simple beauty of the scene. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, somehow even more magical in early summer than it had been in spring, or winter, or the autumn before that. Each season at the academy held its own beauty. Come what may, Lyra was grateful to have witnessed them all.

The beauty outside the building, of course, was far surpassed by the beauty within. Lyra's gaze drifted over each of her three companions, all perched on their stools. She let her eyes wander to the professors, huddled together in whispered conference.

Idly, she stared at the notes Professor Genoise had written on the board, then his silver baking spoons gleaming on the counter, then the plate of Mac's entremets the professor had shown to the class as a demonstration of excellence in 'edible illusion' spells.

I'm… content, she thought dreamily. Right now, sitting in this room, I feel at home.

Her thoughts drifted to the weekend ahead. Ginger was coming for Whisk Whiz Recreation that night. She had promised to bring a special treat from her parents' bakery, since the term was almost over. Lyra wondered what form that night's festivities would take…

Professor Genoise clapped his hands briskly, then spread his arms wide.

"Congratulations on the conclusion of another week," he proclaimed, and Lyra had to stifle another laugh. Somehow, Professor Genoise found opportunities for grand ceremony in even the most mundane occasions. It was an admirable trait, especially in a Presentation master, but Lyra also found it could be amusing in certain scenarios.

Such as the end of class on a Friday, when all the first-years really just wanted to get their homework assignments and escape.

Professor Genoise continued, oblivious to any hidden mirth in his audience. "But not just any week, of course. This, as you are doubtless well aware, is the penultimate week of third term, and thus of the entire year."

Professor Puff took up the thread. "One week from tomorrow, you will take your final exam. I do not need to remind you that this event holds special significance. Your performance in this exam will determine which three of you will advance to the second year."

"So the exam itself has to be special," Professor Honeycomb said. "We have designed it to showcase your individual strengths and challenge the weaknesses we've sought to address this year. Anyone care to guess what the nature of the exam might be?"

Boysen raised his hand. "Our old exam cakes, but with assigned spells for each discipline?"

"Close, Aspiring Baker Berry." Professor Honeycomb beamed at him. "You're going to make each other's exam cakes!"

Four students stared blankly back at her.

"Each… other's?" Caramelle echoed weakly.

Professor Honeycomb directed her radiant smile at Caramelle. "That's right! The versions you made for the second term exam, with those exact recipes and spells."

"We analyzed all of your various growth journeys over this past year," Professor Puff explained. "You each will be assigned the cake of a fellow student who excels at your weakest point."

"You all know your own exam cakes," Professor Genoise pointed out. "I'd imagine you're rather bored of them by now. This way, you have the opportunity to shed those stale recipes and try something new!"

All three professors smiled at the students. Clearly, they found this plan as satisfying as one of Chef Flax's four-course dinners.

Mac raised his hand tentatively. "You… you mentioned our 'weakest point'?"

"Indeed, Aspiring Baker Fondant," Professor Puff replied. "For you, that is Texture. Though you have made remarkable progress this year, you still struggle with the necessary concentration and exactitude. That is why you have been assigned Aspiring Baker Meringue's exam cake."

Mac looked like he had just seen the ghost of all the recipes he'd ever failed to complete. "M-M-Meringue?" he stammered.

"Correct." Professor Puff's gray eyes gleamed with a rare hint of mischief. "Texture is Aspiring Baker Meringue's strength. The spells she employed for her exam cake should be a healthy level of difficulty for you."

Mac opened his mouth, but no words came out. His shocked gaze turned slowly from Professor Puff to Caramelle and stayed there, as if pleading for help.

Caramelle, however, was focused on her own troubles.

"If Macaron is doing my exam cake," she said slowly, "then I'll be making… what?"

"You are so adept at challenging yourself, Aspiring Baker Meringue," Professor Puff said fondly. "Almost to your detriment. Your diligence certainly reached dangerous heights towards the end of second term. I believe, and my colleagues agree, that you have demonstrated admirable moderation this term. Even so… with you, we need not test your mastery of high-level spells."

Professor Genoise leapt in. "We had to approach your exam from the other end. For such a 'virtuosic' baker, what could be more challenging than simplicity?"

"So you'll be making Aspiring Baker Treble's cake!" Professor Honeycomb clapped her hands as if unable to contain the secret any longer. "Just vanilla, with a hint of boysenberry. Oh, you're going to do marvelously, Meringue! It will be a thrilling challenge for you. I'm sure of it."

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Caramelle clearly did not share the professor's confidence, but she dared not object. She merely pressed her lips together tightly and gave a sharp, very Meringue-ish nod.

"As for Aspiring Baker Treble," Professor Genosie went on, "I confess we were momentarily at a loss. Throughout the year, you have both excelled and struggled with all three baking principles."

"I would say your most consistent weak link has been Texture," Professor Puff admitted. "But not to the same degree as Fondant. It was more important for him to take on Meringue's recipe."

"Fortunately, Aspiring Baker Berry's cake combines difficult elements from Presentation and Texture, as well as Flavor." Professor Honeycomb clapped again, bouncing slightly on the tips of her toes. "So you'll be making his cake!"

Lyra froze. A sudden vision leapt up in her mind of Boysen's exam cake: a perfect cerulean sphere, carefully balanced and covered with gorgeous swirls of whipped cream clouds…

She tried to swallow, but a lump the size of that impossible cake seemed to have lodged in her throat.

"That means Aspiring Baker Berry will be making Aspiring Baker Fondant's cake." Professor Genoise stroked his neatly trimmed gray beard. "Which is what I would have assigned him anyway. Berry's exam cake is impressive, but he is nowhere near Fondant's level in Presentation."

Professor Honeycomb sighed. "It all worked out so perfectly. Like it was meant to be."

"You say that every year," Professor Puff observed calmly.

"Because it's true every year!" the Flavor headmistress shot back. "It's still a lovely surprise."

Professor Genoise smiled indulgently at both his colleagues, then turned to the first-years.

"There will be no homework this weekend, and no test on Monday. We wish you to have a full week to consult with your exam cake's original creator and practice the recipes."

He spread his hands again in a grand ceremonial flourish, but Lyra no longer found it so amusing.

"We have the utmost confidence in you all, Aspiring Bakers. Go and study, that you may prove this confidence justified. Good luck!"

—

"This is it," Mac announced. Caramelle's recipe book was open on the counter in front of him, and he was staring at it with calm despair. "This is how I go."

They had all gathered in the first-floor common area kitchen after dinner for Whisk Whiz Recreation, but no one felt particularly festive.

Boysen slammed Mac's notebook shut with a groan. "Not if I get there first, Fondant. And I will. Unless there's a spell to turn me into a 'majestic' Presentation expert in seven days."

"You're one to talk," Lyra retorted. "Care to explain why the Flavor King chose a third-year Presentation spell for his exam cake?"

"I told you." Boysen shrugged helplessly. "It's the only one I knew at the time."

Lyra glared at him as she flipped through the seven pages of 'Madame Patisserie's Shaping Spell: Fifth Spherical Edition.' "Well, it's a doozy."

"Trick I learned from my brother Straw. Find one really impressive Presentation spell, and practice it for years until you get it right. If it's flashy enough, and if you focus on keeping your bakes tidy, people won't notice you're pretty hopeless otherwise. In Presentation, I mean." Boysen shrugged again. "Blame Straw."

Lyra continued glaring. "I do. Doesn't mean I can't blame you too."

"You'll be fine, Lyra." Caramelle sighed, holding Lyra's stack of notes listlessly in one hand. "It's me you should be worried about."

"You?" Lyra felt hysterical laughter and equally hysterical tears surging up her throat at the same time. She managed to swallow both before replying, "But my cake… it's all basic. Intermediate level, except for Master Glaze. You could do each and every one of those spells in your sleep. Backwards."

"That's just it," Caramelle cried, her voice rising swiftly to a plaintive wail. "There's nowhere to hide. It's like Boysen was saying. If it's flashy enough, people won't notice any little defects. But your cake isn't flashy, Lyra. It's just good. It's so, so good. And I'm not good. I'm… virtuosic."

She spat the word out like it was an unwelcome grape seed. Then she turned to the counter, thumbing furiously through Lyra's papers with shaking hands.

Lyra exchanged glances with Mac and Boysen. The air around Caramelle was approaching 'Meringue Malady' frequency levels. But before they could intervene, Ginger laughed.

"Poor Aspiring Bakers." Hopping up onto the counter, Ginger pinned the rest of Lyra's notes down with one hand, putting an end to Caramelle's rifling. "It's almost like the professors know what they're doing. It's an exam! It's supposed to be challenging, right?"

"This isn't challenging," Mac said woefully. "It's… it's…"

"Cruel," Caramelle finished.

"My, my. Sounds like Flax went a little heavy on the drama sauce in tonight's dinner." Ginger selected one of the frosted profiteroles she had brought for the group and took a bite, chewing noisily as she spoke. "Lyra, what's the name of that theatre guy your family is friends with? Thespy, right? Tell him he's got four new actors to work with."

"This is serious, Crumble," Boysen said sternly.

"Of course it is. It's baking." Ginger threw a profiterole at him, cheering when he caught it. "Something all four of you are incredibly good at."

"I'm not good," Caramelle repeated sullenly. "I haven't had time to be good. I've been too busy showing off. 'Virtuosic'… might as well just say 'fraud' and be done with it."

Ginger silenced her by shoving a profiterole directly into her mouth. "Spun sugar. That's what that is."

Turning to the others, Ginger spread her hands and continued in her best 'Professor Genoise' imitation voice.

"The Royal Academy of Magical Baking is a place of growth. And how can one grow without being challenged? All of you — yes, even you, Meringue — are good bakers. I am confident you can rise to this exhilarating challenge, and show the world that —"

Caramelle suddenly rammed a particularly large profiterole into Ginger's mouth, returning the favor.

"Thanks, Caramelle," Lyra said. Then she sighed. "Though Ginger is right."

"Of course I am." Ginger swallowed the pastry with remarkable ease and grinned. "You all are acting like this exam is some terrible hardship. Sure, I'm glad it's you and not me. I'm thrilled to be out of it, honestly. But you all love baking. You're all incredibly talented. So just… go be incredible at the thing you love. Doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

"Nope." Boysen shook his head, returning Ginger's grin. "Not so bad at all."

Caramelle took a profiterole in her hand. She seemed to be examining it closely, but her eyes had a faraway look in them.

"Stop whining," she said slowly, "and start baking."

Ginger raised both arms in silent victory.

"Stop whining. Start baking." Mac took off his glasses and wiped them on his apron before settling them firmly back on his face. "Sounds like a battle cry."

"Sounds like a song," Lyra corrected.

Ginger nodded in agreement. "A 'song' is more like it. Not a lot of 'battle' vibes in the Whisk Whizzes. Which is another point: you all know you're going to be helping each other this week, right? It's not like you have to struggle through these new recipes on your own."

"They're not even new," Caramelle pointed out. "We've seen each other practicing all year. Every exam."

"Heed The Meringue," Ginger proclaimed. "She speaks the truth."

Boysen rolled his shoulders and shook out his hands in a business-like manner. "Stop whining, start baking. Great song. I can't wait to hear the theme Treble writes for it."

"Don't hold your breath, Flavor King." Lyra placed all seven pages of his globe-cake's Presentation spell on the counter in front of him, one by one. "First you're going to help me come up with a tune for this."

"Yes, ma'am," Boysen said meekly. Then he shot Ginger an apologetic smile. "I don't think there's going to be much 'recreation' happening tonight. Sorry, Crumble."

"Are you kidding?" Ginger settled back into her perch on the counter, sorting idly through the profiteroles. "This is way more entertaining. I should have brought popcorn."

Boysen looked at Lyra. Lyra looked at Caramelle. Caramelle looked at Mac, giving him a radiant smile.

"Stop whining?" she whispered, as if offering the first half of a secret code.

Macaron Fondant drew himself up to his full height of five feet five inches.

"Start baking," he declared solemnly.