No.

...he looks around in a bit of a panic but his low-light vision reveals no one. Try again?

Still no.

...how about...

Elf ears.

Elf ears.

No ears?

Elf ears. 

"Oh I bet the authors think this is really funny."

"It's a compelling hypothesis," Ed agrees, still facing away.

"You can look," he sighs. "I can get rid of the ears as my other self but not this self."

"You must admit they wouldn't enhance that American footballer look," Edmund says. "They are nice. Pity about the problems."

"I do not like hats. They're uncomfortable. —I mean, I bet they're not uncomfortable anymore, but they've never been my style."

"Sellotape the tips against the sides of your head, grow your hair out?" Edmund suggests. "I wonder if you could use an Alice band for that..."

"Next time I think about doing something dumb and impulsive like this talk me out of it," he sighs. Then he stops walking. "Okay, I need to figure this out before we get back to the dorms."

"I'm trying! You didn't get anything else with your ears, did you? Because if you're a sorcerer now, that at least expands the potential solution space..."

"No, sorry, I don't mean to blame you for it, this is on me. And, ah, no idea? How would I even tell, I used to play wizards not sorcerers on Pathfinder..."

"Uh... point at a patch of pavement that's nowhere near either of us and think very hard about blasting it with something? Acid, ice, electricity... there isn't a fire cantrip I don't think..."

"Ice's probably best."

Ice?

A faintly luminous blue-white beam shoots from his index finger; the air chills a bit, and where the ray hits, the pavement accretes a shaggy chunk of ice and snow from the sudden condensation of humidity in the air around it. Also, under the ice the concrete has split open from the instant, violent temperature swing.

Edmund beholds the cracked slab and the ice, already sublimating into fog in the early-autumn warmth. "...next time I tell you to do something stupid and impulsive," he begins.

He covers his face with a hand and laughs a bit, nervously. "Right. Okay. Right. Okay. Yeah. Okay. Um. I think under most circumstances this would kind of be really cool."

"What was that thing you did earlier?" Ed asks abruptly. "The door to nowhere, where you got the shirt. Was there a place there? Because - it seems like anywhere else would be a better place to test all this. Unless it was a maternity ward, or something."

"Oh. There... was a place there. I'm not sure I'm allowed to take you there. It sounds like the kind of thing the plot wouldn't like, like skipping steps in the story. But I guess I can try bringing you with and if I can't then I could try testing stuff out myself? If nothing else I can definitely get Pathfinder and D&D books there to see if there's anything there for a level 1 sorcerer that could help."

"I think that it might help to have me there for the testing, and certainly I'd love to see the place, but I also think you're clever and you can work out most of it yourself if you need. Check if you've got illusions, is the main thing I'd advise."

"Roger that." They can find a door, right, and if he opens it...?

Milliways!

"Alright, I'll turn around and you can try again?" Edmund proposes. "That usually helps..."