I Learned Magic for All the Wrong Reasons

Rhea called Professor Helena while Dante compared the two photographs again. The animal was wrong, but the carrier number matched. He asked the professor whether transport had stopped the pickup for the carrier itself, or only placed a hold on the animal.

Professor Helena checked with transport while they waited outside residence. Six minutes remained when she called back: the animal’s hold had never reached the separate collection order. The carrier was now blocked too, and the countdown had stopped.

Dante saved both confirmations. He had stopped a collection order by asking the right question. The professor still needed to find whoever arranged it. For tonight, the animal was safe, his feet hurt, and Posey had brought honey for their movie.

In the downstairs common room, Mr. Glint inspected Posey’s honey through his enormous glasses while students dragged chairs around the worn sofas. His long rabbit ears lifted at somebody’s offer of syrup, and he told them that feeding an artist cheaply was how people ended up watching a two-hour advertisement for better honey.

Dante chose the sofa’s end so Posey could reach her drink without climbing over anyone. He arranged her cushion and offered the blanket. A military commander might appreciate his preparation, although the mission was sitting beside a girl.

”I wasn’t sure whether you’d remember,” she said, putting the honey receipt in her notebook. ”It’s been a strange day, but I was looking forward to this bit.”

He told her he’d remembered, then asked whether she felt any better. Posey said the nurse wanted another check tomorrow, but she was allowed to enjoy a movie without somebody asking how tired she felt during every scene.

Posey rested her hand over his good wrist. ”Could you tell me if you’re comfortable? I was hoping to stay like this.” He admitted he had already lost the detective’s name, and she whispered that she hadn’t asked about the movie.

Jett demanded a film with an educational purpose. Rhea suggested a lecture about listening to medical instructions, which earned her a cushion she caught with her tail before it reached her face.

Anika arrived with two drinks and gave one to Posey. She took the space on Dante’s other side after asking whether he wanted her there, then settled close enough for him to remember the kiss in thoroughly unhelpful detail.

Anika’s hand settled on his knee. Of course this was manageable, Dante told himself. Men of destiny probably handled two attractive women and a detective film daily. He forgot which character had been murdered and hoped neither woman asked.

During a pause, Posey showed Dante Professor Artemis’s corrections to her mood-potion work. He asked about the smaller dose, and she explained that making someone quieter didn’t prove they felt safer, which brought back Jett being told to cooperate through a bed speaker.

”Could Friday movies be our regular thing?” he asked afterward. ”Even when nobody needs supervising, although apparently that might limit our options.”

Posey wrote it beside tennis and turned the notebook toward him. Anika offered to judge their film choices, prompting Posey to tell her, very sweetly, that judges could buy their own honey.

Posey tucked the blanket around their knees while Anika removed Jett’s shoes from the sofa. Dante reached for snacks and met Posey’s fingers instead. He accepted the bowl, already revising his definition of victory to include sitting completely still while someone wanted him there.

When the credits finally moved across the wall, Posey stayed while the others carried the dishes away. Dante asked if he could kiss her, keeping his hand loose around hers while he waited. ”I was hoping you still wanted to,” she said, and moved closer without needing him to pull her.

Their first kiss was awkward enough that he started an apology, but she smiled against his mouth before he finished. He forgot the clever thing he had planned to say and kissed her again, slowly this time, letting the quiet belong to them. When she rested her forehead against his, he wanted to keep this moment private, something neither a camera nor a borrowed voice could have.

Posey’s fingers stayed against his shirt after the credits ended. His inner voice began explaining that this had always been inevitable. He stopped it before the explanation ruined anything. She had chosen to kiss him again, and he wanted to remember that without pretending he’d controlled it.

”You’re thinking very hard,” she whispered. ”Was it that bad?”

”I’m trying to look like a man who knew this would happen,” he admitted. Her laugh came quietly against his shoulder, and he decided honesty had earned better results than most of his performances.

Mr. Glint cleared his throat beside the honey jar. ”The next screening costs extra if I’m expected to provide romantic lighting afterward.”

Posey helped Dante fold the blanket before taking his hand toward the hall. He carried it to the sofa’s arm, then followed her past the doorway, where the brighter light made her pink cheeks impossible to miss. She stopped beside the wall rather than letting go, keeping him close enough that he didn’t have to guess whether she wanted him there.

”I wasn’t asking you to leave,” she said. ”I just thought we could have a minute without the audience.”

He asked for another kiss and felt her smile before she answered. This time he didn’t rush to prove he could do it better. Her hand settled at his neck while his rested at her waist, and for a while he forgot to worry about what happened after being wanted.

When they separated, he considered calling it another assessment. The line sounded clever inside his head, where lines rarely faced consequences. Posey had trusted him with her evening. He wanted her to hear that he’d enjoyed it, without making her part of a performance she hadn’t agreed to.

”I liked tonight,” he told her. ”I’d like the next one too, even if I actually have to watch the film.”

”You could try watching some of it,” she said, brushing her thumb over his fingers. ”I’d rather you didn’t stop looking at me altogether.”

He walked her to the stairs, pleased when she kept his hand until they reached her floor. They said good night without turning it into a promise about forever. Back in his room, Dante set his alarm for the sports demonstration and discovered that getting ready for tomorrow felt different when someone had asked to see him again.

Early Saturday morning, he met Jett outside the sports center for the dry-land demonstration Professor Bell had mentioned. The nurse had approved watching and trying the slow balance exercise without casting, provided both men kept their injured hands clear.

Breakers banners hung above cheerleaders practicing in the lobby. Jett claimed he was supporting university culture until Rhea suggested doing it with his mouth closed.

Dante spotted Martin fitting the familiar floor stand beside the practice mat. Professor Bell checked the empty belt while Anika and Posey took seats beyond the marked boundary, both attending as spectators after their follow-up appointments.

A replay showed a receiver bracing underwater, and Professor Bell explained how the dry belt copied a gentle sideways push. Dante volunteered after confirming his permission, wanting to understand the game through something other than watching.

Martin checked the belt over Dante’s shirt. Dante asked where to land, then stepped onto the mat with his injury clear. A natural athlete would probably know already, but he could become one after instruction.

The first push of air moved him half a step. He bent his knees, shifted his weight, and stayed upright while Jett provided commentary that would have earned a punch from a healthier friend.

Professor Bell approved another attempt at the same force, telling Dante to move his feet sooner. Before restarting, Dante checked the red release button with Martin while the stand was inactive, making volunteering feel less like pretending he couldn’t be frightened.

On the next push, he bent his knees early and held his footing without tightening the safety line. Jett cheered like a commentator watching history. Dante grinned, willing to agree. Then Professor Bell ended the exercise, and Martin pressed the release while Dante was still enjoying getting something right.

The air stopped, but the line stayed bright. Martin pressed again, then reached for the power switch while Professor Bell told Dante to remain still on the mat.

The stand clicked and pulled him backward. Dante caught his balance, prepared to call the stumble a deliberate test, until another pull stopped the words. He had finished the exercise. Whatever this was doing, nobody had asked him to continue.

Martin switched off the supply, yet the blue line tightened again. Professor Bell drew a low barrier behind Dante’s legs, speaking over the scrape of the stand as its feet dragged across the floor.

Dante tried the belt catch himself, finding it locked under the pull. Martin told him to stop pulling at it and reached for the yellow isolator on his cart.

The line snapped taut before he got there, throwing Dante sideways against Professor Bell’s barrier. His breath went out as the belt bit beneath his ribs, and the stand kept dragging him toward its metal base even after every light on the control panel went dark.