“Are you sure you’re performing it correctly?”
“Certain.” Victor’s curt response held a slight edge to it, though his body language remained casual and relaxed. No quicker way to irritate Victor Vincenzi than by doubting his ability to perform any spell, charm, or complex task with exceptional ease. And though it was true that the expecto patronum charm had been his achilles heel and he was willing to confess it, it didn’t mean he was willing to discuss it. He didn’t need to remember the boggart that taunted him as a third year student, taking the shape of his father with the deepest look of disappointment in his crystal blue eyes as he looked away from his son, ignoring his presence with posture that echoed defeat.

That had been a rather unpleasant truth for the boy to share, and yet, Cavendish didn’t award them any of their clothes in return, or even unlocked the door. What the bloody hell did the man want them to confess? He must be trying to get at something.

“My turn,” decided Victor suddenly, sitting up in the armchair and seeming to recover some of his usual grace and poise. “…What’s the worst dream you’ve ever had?” He needed some comic relief after the cruel reminder of his failure at a simple charm, and a story about Mondai waking up in a sweat after dreaming about failing her NEWTs sounded just like the kind of thing he needed to hear. Also, he might secretly want her to suffer from unpleasant memories too.