"Oh I'm in some isekai hotspot? That's actually really clever, as a thing to exist. ...given the givens of how I got here I expect I will unfortunately end up having more people than that knowing about me but also given some other givens I expect it'll work out fine anyway.

"Is there a special history class for 'Transfers', then? Or, like, a book or a website?"

"Anonymous online classes are offered; one of the best is conducted by this very institution, though you wouldn't be taking it on the record for obvious reasons. As far as your normal history requirements, I can adjust your schedule as necessary to account for any points of friction. I would love to know more about how you got here and why you expect it to be difficult to keep secret. Though I understand if you wish to keep that secret; these things are often very personal."

"It's less that it's secret and more that it's... awkward?" He hums, swaying his legs back and forth. "I expect things are going to happen that will cause me to become entangled with other people in... narratively interesting ways? And I would find it an awful story if my arrival here caused anything like unprecedented horrors so that's not going to happen, probably, and instead whatever problems would come up because of a couple too many people knowing about me will just happen to not come up."

Unless it'd be funny. Or insert long list of caveats here. But he thinks those would be worrying and overall he expects it'll be fine anyway.

"...hah. If that's how it works for you, then that's how it works for you, I suppose. That kind of thing isn't unheard of, but it's much rarer than a simple isekai, as you say. Still, do try not to spread your secret too widely. It's not just the people upholding the status quo who get nervous about an unusually open Transfer."

"Oh don't worry about that I have reasons of my own to not want to spread it too widely. I know we've just met so it's a big ask to say 'trust me' but trust me I'm pretty sure it just won't be a problem."

"Well. I can't necessarily trust, but I can have faith, and I suppose I will."

He takes the admission form. "I'll get this all entered in. Why don't you go to the dormitories? You'll be in Bradley Hall, room 17. I hope you don't mind that you'll have a roommate, not that I can do anything about it if you do."

"I don't mind at all." He pauses then takes a metaphorical step back to consider whether and how to ask... okay no particular intuitions. "Are there any, ah, fraternization rules?"

"This is an English public school, child," Dean Abrams says with an air of faint exhaustion. "There is nothing you can do within these walls that has not been done a thousand times before you. -but don't be too loud after lights out and don't scandalize your more timid peers."

Somehow he thinks that won't be a problem.

"What, ah, other actual rules are there? Is the uniform mandatory, for example? I'm from my Earth's America so I don't really know much about English schools."

"The uniform is mandatory, yes, and you're entitled to a boy's uniform, a girl's uniform, or any bizarre hybrid of both that you prefer. - speaking of which I've put you in a boys' dormitory because you said male pronouns and not to worry about it, if I was wrong about that it's a quick enough fix. The other rules are relatively straightforward, no violence no stealing no swearing where a teacher can hear you - if you're American then you should be aware that chapel and prayers are optional even though unlike American schools we have them - generally don't make an ass of yourself. That kind of thing. You'll get a handbook."

"A handbook, excellent." He's not going to be blatantly supernatural and change into the rapidly coalescing version of the uniform in his head but he's feeling tempted by it.

Dean Abrams hands over a campus map. "If there's nothing else, I'm happy to help you with any problems that come up but I do also have a job."

"I think I have no more questions, but thank you!" So off he can go, map in hand, to find his dorm.

Show of hands, who wants to bet his roommate will be cute and/or hot? Peter actually thinks it's not that likely to be the gorgeous boy from earlier just because that'd make the cast too small but on the other hand maybe the story is about the gorgeous boy—well, about Peter with the gorgeous boy—so he'll be there. Who knows! An exciting mystery.

(Being Astolfo is kind of turning him into a bit of a manic pixie dream girl. He, like, kind of expected it would, but it's still taking him a little bit by surprise just how enthusiastic he seems to be about playing this role.)

If anyone wanted to bet: well, the bet has been resolved.

"Cheers!" says the atrociously handsome young man who is currently lounging in the room to which Peter was directed, before he looks up, takes in Peter's general vibe, and grins in bafflement. "I'm not going to insult you by implying you've got the wrong dormitory, but I will say I've had quite a few roomies over the years and you are by far the pinkest."

"I do strive to be very pink, it's true. I'm Peter! Nice to meet you!"

"Oh, that won't do at all. Can't you be an Alex or a Sam, maybe a Blue? It just seems like such a waste to put all that energy into confusing people and then give the game away the second you introduce yourself. Plus we've got a Peter, he's three years ahead. I give your name two out of five. I'm Howell, actually I'm Hywel but English don't bother to say it right and you sound American so the odds are worse still, Howell Jenkins."

"I am offended. It's a pleasure to meet you, Hywel. I may be American but I'm not uncultured."

"Hah. Well, you've gotten points for trying. And an extra point for not fucking it up. So that's three points already. I do hope you're keeping track, you don't get to redeem points for valuable prizes if you forget you had them."

Hywel rolls off the furniture item he'd been lounging on, crashes to the floor, and hops to his feet. "Are you moving anything in? You don't seem to have anything but the clothes at-best-technically on your back. If you've got a steamer trunk somewhere out there I'll lift it, though, I'm hench."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about them, they'll be here when I need them. Except for the uniforms, I need to figure something out for those—I mean, I know they're providing me with those, but I need to look hot in them."

"Is that going to be a particular challenge? You look like some kind of succubus in a Sailor Moon outfit, and I've never found a well-fitting school uniform to detract from someone's appeal."

"Careful, Hywel, you keep saying things like that to a boy and he might think you're flirting."

"I am a committed pervert, relentless flirt, serial monogamist at large - et cetera. I don't do serious with roomies, though, I'll say that up front."

"It does sound like a recipe for social disaster," he agrees. "I'm sufficiently full of myself to hold the firm belief that negative consequences will never happen to me but I understand that others are not so privileged."

"Yeah, no matter how full of myself I am, I've tried it enough to know I'm not that kind of special. So if you want to share some fascinating magazines, or you sprain your wrist and need a gentleman's touch, or something, I'm open, but no penetration literal or emotional."

The Peter of the before-times would have snorted at this. The present Peter giggles, instead, sounding adorable even to his ears. He always thought he was kind of cute, don't get him wrong, but now he's downright smoochable, if he can say so himself.

"Surely there'll be some emotional penetration; if nothing else I'd like to at least try to be friends!"

But he's been standing there doing nothing for too long now so he decides he'll start exploring the actual room, see how much space he has, etc etc etc.