Chapter Text
It was a normal morning. Well, a magical normal morning.
The campus gates stood open, students spilling in with loud chatter and bursts of stray spell sparks. Oscar stepped through quietly, hugging his bag strap with one hand as if anchoring himself. No one really noticed him, since his presence was calm, barely a ripple in the noisy crowd.
He preferred it that way. Teleportation magic made him stand out enough. He didn’t need attention on top of it.
He navigated the courtyard with a light touch of spatial awareness guiding him, avoiding bumping into people without even thinking about it. He paused near the entrance hall, scanning the signs for class assignments.
A few students whispered about his hair, maybe, but Oscar ignored them, walking with his usual unbothered expression. He moved through the hall and slipped into the first-year assembly room, picking a corner seat where he assumed no trouble would find him.
Trouble arrived anyway.
Charles Leclerc burst through the doorway with his cloak on fire. Not symbolically—literally burning from the hem upward. He patted it with both hands, eyes wide, muttering in a fast panic that no one understood.
“C’est pas vrai! I did not do anything. I swear I did not even touch it too hard,” he said, voice sharp with frustration as the fire sputtered brighter.
A teacher rushed forward and doused him with water magic before Charles could catch the curtains. Charles blinked, dripping and embarrassed, then tried to straighten himself like nothing happened.
Lando Norris followed a second later, walking in with a trail of glowing magical cats floating around him. They purred loudly, flickering like small illusions made of soft light. He grinned as students stared. “Relax, they’re temporary,” he said, waving his hand as one hopped through a desk. “I’m testing something.”
The teacher gave him a warning look, and Lando mouthed an exaggerated apology before sitting down next to Charles, who was still dripping onto the floor.
He laughs as he sat next to Charles, teasing his not-so-pretty wet hair covering his blue eyes. Maybe he chose that seat randomly, or maybe not.
Then the room fell silent as Max Verstappen entered.
He didn’t do anything dramatic, but he had the sort of presence that made people instinctively step out of his way. His expression was flat, serious, and unintentionally threatening. He scanned the room like he was already bored of everyone in it, and students whispered about him before he even took a seat.
Max sat alone in the middle row, arms crossed, looking like he was daring someone to bother him.
Oscar watched all three with a neutral stare, not reacting even when Lando’s illusion cats wandered near his desk. He simply moved his leg aside so they wouldn’t pass through him. Charles wrung out his cloak loudly. Max narrowed his eyes at the noise. Lando tried to poke one of Max’s shoulders with a glowing cat just to see what would happen.
The teacher asked for quiet. No one listened.
Their eyes finally met when the seating arrangement was announced.
“Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Max Verstappen; front center,” the teacher called.
Oscar lifted a brow. Charles froze mid-wring. Lando whispered, “Oh this is going to be fun.” Max exhaled like he was already tired of everything.
They took their seats together, four strangers forced into one row. They look at each other, trying to decipher each other’s magic before they could somehow land in an ugly joke.
Oscar’s magic was subtle but precise. Teleportation was not flashy, but the strain of folding space twisted at the edges of his calm. Charles wielded the unpredictable fire magic, his temper flickering like the flames he conjured, always on edge but fiercely protective.
Lando’s illusions, light and playful, masked a mind that was quick and sharp, always watching, always teasing. While Max carried a quiet force in his combat magic; strong, relentless, but with an unspoken discipline that kept his power tightly controlled.
Each one was different, but fate was about to weave their paths tightly together.
And just like that, the most chaotic group in the school had been formed, without any of them wanting it.
The first class of the day was Combat Theory, and it took approximately three minutes for Max and Charles to start arguing.
Charles slammed his hand on the desk, eyes blazing. “The textbook is missing a line, right here, in the fire-containment section. It says nothing about the secondary flare-up. It’s incomplete. Merde, Verstappen, how can you not see that?”
Max raised an eyebrow, folding his arms with a smirk. “You’re just reading it wrong, Leclerc. It’s clearly there, you’re just not paying attention.”
Charles leaned forward, voice sharp. “Tu déconnes, Max? You don’t even understand fire magic well enough to judge. This is basic!”
Max’s smirk deepened. “And you’re overcomplicating it like always. Maybe if you actually read carefully instead of panicking like usual—”
Lando chuckled, kicking Charles’s chair lightly. “Oh là là, fire and ice, huh? This is better than any soap opera.”
Oscar’s pen scratched across the paper quietly, unfazed by the rising tension.
Charles, cheeks flushed, muttered under his breath, “Can we please just get through this without Max acting like he’s the expert on everything?”
Max’s eyes narrowed, voice low. “Maybe because I am.”
Lando grinned wider, clearly entertained. “Would you two shut up for one second? Oh, right, you can’t!” Lando laughed, kicking Charles’s chair lightly.
“I am not the one who started it,” Charles snapped.
“You absolutely did,” Oscar said, still writing.
It was the first time he spoke to them, and it stunned Charles long enough for Max to smirk in victory.
Class did not improve from there.
When it moved to practical demonstrations, Lando made an illusion of Max with an exaggerated angry expression and sent it walking around the classroom. Max saw it within seconds and turned slowly toward Lando with a look that promised retribution.
“Take it down,” he said quietly, which was somehow more threatening than shouting.
Lando raised both hands. “It’s friendly teasing. You need to relax.”
“I am relaxed,” Max said in a tone that absolutely was not relaxed.
Charles snorted loudly, which made Max glare at him too. Oscar stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the entire situation unfold like he was observing wildlife.
Their powers clashed almost as loudly as their personalities.
Charles’s flames flared with the same intensity as his words, burning hot and wild. Max’s magic wasn’t just raw strength, it was precision honed by relentless practice, the kind that demanded respect.
Lando’s illusions danced in the air, lighthearted but sharp enough to unnerve the most stoic opponents. Oscar’s teleportation was the quietest, but perhaps the deadliest, a magic that moved through space itself, requiring cool calculation and immense control.
Despite the tension, it was clear none of them would be easily ignored.
The teacher eventually intervened before Max could transform Lando’s illusions into dust. After class ended, the teacher called them over and spoke with a tone that tried to sound positive.
“You four… have potential. And issues. But potential.”
Max rolled his eyes. Charles straightened like he was being praised. Lando whispered, “We’re being punished.” Oscar stayed silent.
Then the sentence dropped.
“You will be assigned to the same training group for the rest of the semester.”
Max stared at the teacher like he’d misheard. Charles looked horrified. Lando fist-pumped. Oscar blinked once, the only sign of reaction. Their fate as a group was sealed before any of them understood how complicated it would become.
Their first real mission arrived the following week, a beginner-level creature hunt in the school’s practice forest.
The assignment was simple. Track a few rogue mana critters, capture them, and return unharmed. They walked into the forest in a loose formation that said none of them trusted each other, but none also wanted to admit it.
Lando led with enthusiasm he absolutely did not have the skills to support. Illusion cats scouted ahead of them, glowing faintly between the trees. Charles kept a small flame conjured for light, muttering every few seconds about not wanting to set anything on fire accidentally.
Max walked behind them, arms crossed, commenting only when someone did something inefficient. Oscar stayed near the middle, observing everything quietly with the sort of focus that made him look detached.
The first creature appeared sooner than expected. A small razor-backed ferret lunged out of the bushes, aiming directly for Lando’s leg. Charles shouted something. Max moved to intercept. Lando tripped over a root. Oscar sighed.
The creature managed to scratch Lando’s ankle before Max grabbed it by the scruff and pinned it to the ground.
“Stop moving,” Max muttered as Lando tried to kick him away for no reason other than embarrassment. Charles helped tie the ferret with magical bindings, still talking too fast.
Lando sat down on a fallen log, inspecting the thin line of blood on his ankle. “It’s fine. It’s small. I don’t need—”
Oscar crouched beside him before he could finish the sentence. He placed two fingers lightly near the scratch, and a soft glow pulsed from his hand. The wound closed instantly, disappearing without a trace.
Lando blinked in surprise, lifting his foot to check. “That was fast,” he said, impressed. “You didn’t even chant.”
Oscar shrugged. “Didn’t need to.”
“Healing powers too, huh,” Lando grinned, poking at his now-gone scar. “Thank you Oscar, that was practical.”
Oscar stood, turning away from Lando, pretending to look at the now-tied-up ferret hanging on Charles's arm. “No problem,” he murmurs.
None of them notice the slight downward tilt of Oscar’s head afterward. They were too focused on the ferret and the next steps of the mission.
“Let’s keep moving,” Max said, already walking ahead.
“Next time, do not jump toward the creature,” Charles scolded Lando.
“I didn’t jump toward it. I fell.”
“That is worse.”
Oscar followed behind them, quiet and steady, ignoring the brief wave of weakness already fading from his limbs. It wasn’t bad this time. It never was, not with small wounds. He knew how to conceal it.
And no one thought to look twice.
Each of them had their own way of facing danger.
Charles was impulsive but brave, ready to charge in and control the flames with passion and chaos. Max stayed steady, calculating every move like a seasoned warrior, a protective wall between the group and harm. Lando’s illusions softened the edges of their fights, distracting and deceiving enemies with a mischievous grin. And Oscar? He was the calm center, bending space and time to shield his companions, absorbing damage that might have destroyed them all.
Their strengths and weaknesses formed a delicate balance; one that would soon be tested beyond anything they could imagine.