Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

There didn’t seem to be any way to position his weight without feeling the muck in his diaper clinging to his skin. If he sat back, everything squelched forward, and he really didn’t want it going forward. When he sat forward, it mushed up the back and made him fear a blowout–and the only situation that might be more publicly humiliating than a visible dirty diaper would be a visibly blown out diaper.

Of course, constantly wriggling back and forth wasn’t helping any, but he couldn’t help himself. Everything about this was new and deeply unpleasant.

Jen, sitting next to him, seemed to fidget almost as much as he did, even though she had no particular reason to–fiddling with the loose threads of her scarf, she played them between her fingers so much he thought she might pull the garment apart.

The eyes of nearby girls kept glancing his way. He could hear comments being whispered, and the giggles that followed those comments almost immediately–jokes and rumors at his expense.

He’d have to do something about that eventually, but for now, Daniel tried to listen to the orientation, the reason he’d come here.

The dean had conceded the stage, giving way to a woman in her mid fifties with silvery patches covering much of her skin–her hands, her right ear, even a part of her face. She’d begun her introduction a few moments ago, and Daniel had to play back his memory for a moment to catch himself up.

(Professor Sora Saito, potion master.)

Someone a couple rows ahead whispered, “Is that a skin condition?”

A second girl shook her head. “No, I heard it’s from an alchemical accident.”

A third, “I heard she lost a bunch of parts in the war and had to replace–”

A fourth, “What war?”

A fifth, “Shut up!”

Daniel shook off the chatter, focusing on the presentation. “...Freshmen should know, there will be no brewing outside of class hours while you’re here at Alphabeta. You will only make the potions required for your lessons, and only under the supervision of myself or one of my teaching assistants. Junior and Senior students may be given a pass for unsupervised brewing, but only for specific needs.”

Leaning forward, she scowled at the whole student body, as though each of them had personally wronged her. “You will not free brew under my watch. Potions will by made by the book. If you don’t, and I find out, you could get seriously injured.”

“Jeez,” Jen muttered. “Is it just me, or did that sound like a threat?”

One of the girls in front of them shot a glare over their shoulder, making a face at Daniel.

(Oh, come on–I’m not even the one who talked!)

He shrugged sheepishly, and after an exaggerated show of sneering and wrinkling her nose, the girl looked away.

While Professor Saito stepped away, a familiar face stood from the row of chairs at the back of the stage. Velma–or, she’d be Professor Blackburn now, the teacher who’d been in charge of grading their entrance exams.

“Most of you know me,” she said, looking out at the room. “You can refer to me as Professor Blackburn, or simply Blackburn, and I’m here to make sure you’ve got friends.”

That got a round of chuckles–even Daniel smirked, though he didn’t totally get the joke.

“In all seriousness, your coven is going to be more than just a friend circle. Many of the freshmen have requested to be in a specific coven–and my returning students know you’re going to be disappointed to see that I’ve denied most of your requests. We’re not building cliques here, and we’re not interested in turning covens into gossip circles.” She waited for that moment to pass. “Your coven will be a second family to you, and you don’t get to pick your family. The team building tools you develop together will be crucially important, and they need to go deeper than mere friend relationships–as such, you will not be allowed to switch to a different group except in extreme circumstances, as it would not be fair to the other women in your coven.”

(Women,) Daniel thought, pursing his lips. (Not everyone in my coven will be women, though.)

Chances are, this speech had been written months prior, if it wasn’t recycled every year word for word. It didn’t surprise him that the language hadn’t been changed just for him, but he wondered if that, too, was a veiled threat. They were only concerned with fairness towards the women in the student body, not Daniel.

(Is Blackburn against me too?)

Maybe he was being paranoid, but the dean had all but publicly condoned bullying Daniel a moment before, so he felt justified in his paranoia.

“Your coven assignments will be posted outside the hall when we’re done here. Disregard your preconceptions. Some of you will be assigned to a coven with women you can’t stand–and, I got permission from the Dean to say this: Tough shit, suck it up and find someone else to complain to. If you can’t make friends, you don’t belong in my class, or this institution. Thank you.”

Velma’s voice was amplified through the hall by magic; she had no mic to drop. Still, her point had been made, and she stepped back, glancing around. Clearly confused, she looked to Dean Madrigal, seated at the end of the row of teachers.

“Where’s Glinse?” she asked, voice still carrying. Glancing out at the student body, she waved a hand, silencing the spell so that she could confer privately.

Standing, the dean walked up to the center of stage, pulling the amplifying spell onto herself. “On the subject of the Voxavin league,” she began, and Daniel could just barely notice the annoyance in her tone. “We’ve been selected–”

A side door–the same door Daniel had made his humiliating entrance through, in fact, flew open, and a pale woman hurried in. She didn’t raise her voice or cause a stir, but the dean’s silence drew all eyes onto the woman, watching as she scurried onto stage. She was tall, and had a frame like she spent a lot of time watching other people exercise–Daniel pegged her as a gym teacher.

Accepting a harsh glance from the dean, the woman walked up to centerstage.

“Greetings, hello, I’m Catherine Glinse.” She paused, as though expecting a reaction. When she didn’t get one, she continued, losing a bit of steam. “I’ll be coaching you through Voxavin.”

That, at least, got a reaction–interest from a lot of the girls, particularly the freshmen, who leaned in keenly. It also confirmed Daniel’s guess–Voxavin was, for all intents and purposes, Witch Gym.

“All of you are required to participate in Voxavin practice, though you won’t be required to play in the league if your coven doesn’t wish it. The sport has an illustrious history amongst Witches, and we carry that tradition forward. Not only is victory in Voxavin one of the highest honors and greatest achievements a witch can achieve, it’s crucial to your education, your Coven. The skills you learn playing with your sisters of magic will stay with you for the rest of your life, and–if you’re lucky–you’ll end up…” She trailed off for a moment, gazing into the middle distance. “Three of the past seven high covens had members who were collegiate Voxavin champions. This could define your future.”

She started to turn away, but stopped when the dean cleared her throat.

Turning back, she added, “Oh and we’re hosting the school games this year. Try to win, it’s embarrassing when the host school gets beaten. Good luck.”

While Daniel gawked at her presentation, and how poorly put together it’d been, Jen leaned over and whispered to him. “Why do you suppose she was late?”

Daniel shrugged. (Laziness? Or–)

He went cold, realizing Jen’s implication.

Someone had been behind that door, after all, ranting about power.

Was Catherine Glinse their mystery voice?

The thought tickled at the back of his brain, distracting him through the rest of the presentation–a few other teachers introduced themselves, explaining details of their job that wouldn’t be obvious at a glance and generally giving an overview of what to expect.

Daniel was so distracted, he even stopped fidgeting in his seat. It was like breathing–while it’d been on his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, his attention drawn to every detail of the discomfort. Now that he’d been distracted, it fell back into the white noise of the world around him.

(I need to learn more about Catherine Glinse.)

When the ceremony ended, girls everywhere stood, shuffling out in an excited rush. Daniel just turned to Jen, hoping she might know more about the world of Voxavin. “Do you know–”

“Come on,” Jen said, apparently unaware that he’d spoken at the same time. “We have to go find out what coven we’re in!”

Daniel blinked. “Oh, yeah, but–”

“Oh,” Jen said, mistaking his hesitation. “I…oh! Right, your, um. Uh–can’t you just tie your jacket around your waist?”

Blinking, Daniel said, “Er…I didn’t–I was distracted, okay?”

“Well, no time like the present,” Jen said, lowering her tone. “I mean, it’s not like anyone will forget, but at least they won’t be able to see your, y’know…diaper.”

The extra emphasis she gave the word, speaking in a stage whisper, made Daniel more self-conscious rather than less, but he didn’t raise the point. “I…yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks.

“I mean, it’s something, right? And something’s better than nothing, so, yeah. You’re welcome!”

Shrugging out of his uniform jacket, Daniel was faced with a question–it wasn’t a skirt, he couldn’t fashion it to cover things completely, he had to pick–hide the back, or the front? The bottom of his diaper would be visible from one angle for another. He could have asked for Jen’s jacket, too, but that just felt awkward, so he chose to cover up the back, letting his jacket drape over the drooping diaper seat.

“Now come on!” Jen insisted, grabbing him by the hand and pulling Daniel towards the exit, leading him through a sea of students, pushing forward in her haste to find out who they’d been assigned with. “You were saying, by the way?”

“Huh?” Daniel asked, struggling to keep up. He would never in a million years get used to the feeling of walking around in a fully loaded diaper, let alone speedwalking in one.

“Earlier–you said, ‘Do you know,’ what were you asking if I knew?” Jen clarified.

Trying to keep his head low and avoid the sneering glances directed his way, Daniel said, “Oh, you did hear–do you know much about this Glinse woman?”

“I think she’s been the coach here for forever,” Jen explained. “But I dunno–okay, find our names!”

Daniel looked up as they stepped out into the hallway. The outer chamber was as grand as the actual assembly hall, and large illusions were cast up on the far wall, an enormous list of names, separating the girls into their covens.

“I think Glinse might be the voice we heard,” Daniel said.

“Oh, sure,” Jen agreed, nodding as she read through coven lists. “I mean, maybe–what’s your last name, so I don’t get you confused? Oh, wait, I guess there’s not many ‘Daniel’s up here, but still.”

“It’s Aster,” Daniel supplied automatically.

“Aster, Aster…oh, there I am!” Jen said, pointing excitedly. “I… oh. I don’t know any of those people.”

Daniel hadn’t really expected that there’d be such a giant coincidence, but he still felt a twinge of disappointment to not be in Jen’s coven. She’d been nice to him, the only friendly face he’d really met in the school so far.

He found his own coven a moment later, reading off the names: Soga Asami, Hazel Saunders, Mathilde Travere, Radha Gole, and Cassandra Clay. Like Jen, he didn’t know them. These were the strangers he’d be stuck with until he got into a proper Warlock college.

He’d just have to hope he didn’t end up in a group with five Rachels.