The Next Day
The common room smelled like stale coffee and nervous energy.
Derek was sprawled across the couch, his staff leaning against the armrest, a half-eaten piece of toast balanced on his chest. His phone sat on his stomach, the screen displaying a half-finished assignment with a blinking cursor that mocked him.
"I have to submit this by nine," he said, not for the first time. "Nine. That's less than two hours."
Cora was doing stretches near the window, her sword propped against the wall. She didn't look at him. "Just pray Alistair is done with us by then. If not, say bye bye to your grade."
"That's not funny."
"It's a little funny."
Sera was on the floor, back against the wall, scrolling through her phone. She didn't look up. "It's a lot funny."
Mason sat at the table, methodically cleaning his gauntlets with a cloth. He said nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
