"Hedge-witch. Someone who studies and uses magic outside the law. Very punk rock."

"You can do that? Badass. Maybe I'll suggest it to Skye. She's not really doing magic, just investigating stuff."

“There’s more ways to learn magic that’s not Brakebills. Your sister plays it smart, she won’t even need this place.”

"Cool. How do you know all this stuff? It sounds like you don't need Brakebills."

Oshin laughs, and tries to subtly scratch her legs. “I’m mostly kept here so the Dean can keep an eye on me. He’s an old...mmm. We’ll say family friend.”

"Is this some mob stuff I shouldn't ask about if I don't want his goons to kneecap me?"

Oshin giggles, shaking her head. “Nah, nothing shady. Just...the truth is very long and complicated. Be more interesting if it was a 1950’s gangster type drama.”

"Can I pretend it's that? More fun that way."

He loses. It was pre-determined, really. He shouldn't be upset. He likes Oshin. He knew he would lose. He's not any good at magic.

It's stupid to kick the grassy field of the Welter's board. First of all, it doesn't make him feel better about losing or being a piss-poor excuse for a magician. Secondly, he stubs his toe and that just makes him curse out loud, where Oshin can hear him instead of letting him sulk in private.

"Shit! Fucking- shit shit, ow, stupid- shit."

Stupid.

“Uhhh, hey, woah there. What’s your foot ever done to you?”

"Dunno. Nothing, really. That's the problem."

Stupid. He wonders idly if there's someone he can punch who deserves it. God, but he misses video games. And wrestling. And his parents.

“...right. You know that you’re not, like, doing awful? I’ve been doing magic longer, I do have an advantage.”

"Sure. Sorry about that. Go again?"

It still hurts, but that's fine. He's ignored worse.

She should probably get him to talk about what’s putting the sour look on his face, but she doesn’t really know how to to do that. She barely gives her own emotions their due.

Instead she grins, and pushes back over to her side of the board. “You’re on, Quinn.”

They play on. Dermot loses both games, without throwing a tantrum, and then they're out of time.

"Same time next week?"

Oshin snorts. “I’ll check my very busy schedule of nothing. See you next week!” 

He heads back to his dorm room and has a quiet night in. His roommate is out all night, every night, partying- how the hell are other people making friends so easily? He used to have friends. Nothing noteworthy happens.

Thistle nervously pets her hearing aid while she waits outside the classroom. It reminds her of that first day, after the test, when she stood in front of the teachers and somehow managed to produce a rippling image of what each of them were thinking of. 

She's terrified. 

"Come in!"

Thistle opens the door, and slips inside. The office is...not what she is expecting. 

Yes, there is a desk, and a chair, but there is also overcrowded bookshelves, framed photos on every wall of the professor and what must be her family, cushions on the floor in piles, and against the back wall, huge glass cupboards. They are full to the brim with strange looking objects, spheres, oddly glowing spears, a piece of cloth that ripples in light that it seems to make itself-

-and rising from one pile of cushions, the professor herself. She is over six foot, muscled, and holds herself like a warrior. 

But her face is soft and kind as she beckons Thistle over. "Ah, yes, good morning. Please, come make yourself comfortable. Tea?"

"No-" Thistle coughs, as her voice squeaks and rasps. "No, thank you." 

She takes a seat in front of the desk. 

The professor tilts her head, but says nothing to Thistle's decision. She sits in the high-backed leather chair all professors seem to have, and folds her hands in front of her, on the desk. 

"You seem afraid."

Must all the professors here speak so bluntly? 

Thistle squares her shoulders, leans back in her chair, and schools her face into something neutral, if a little piercing. "And now?" 

Surprisingly, the professor lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh, you are very good at that. I take it not many people get to your heart."