Though he may have seemed distracted by the scene unfolding in the handheld mirror - Vince hopping up from the bed and gasping dramatically at Airi’s accusation, denying it with all determination he could muster - Victor was actually paying very close attention to Ned’s description of his nightmares. Normally he would’ve dismissed it all as a result of Ned’s overactive imagination and recent mental breakdown, but the persistence of the awful nightmares were beginning to look suspicious.

“You know I’m not a believer in Divination, but have you considered speaking with Professor Sturmhond about an oneiromancy?”

The bushes near the two Slytherin boys shook slightly with the sudden motion of Robert MacGhilleseatheanaich III sneezing loudly into his cupped hands, which did nothing to cover the sound. “Crap! OoOoh, c-crap.” Robert scrambled to his knees and quickly began to crawl away on the dirt floor.

“…Where do you think you’re going?” Unfortunately for the nerd, only apparition would’ve been able to save him at that point. And he didn’t have his license yet. Robert had only made it a couple yards away from the bushes when he felt something flat and heavy step on his back and press him to the floor, so his chest was against the dirt. The proximity to the dirt only caused the allergy-prone nerd to fall into a violent coughing fit accompanied by more loud sneezing.

Disgusted, Victor pulled his foot off from the nerd’s spine. “I asked you a question, MacGhilleseatheanaich.”

From his spot on the floor, Robert adjusted his glasses over the bridge of his nose, not daring to turn and look up at his tormentors. “I-I-I-I—I w-wa-was I—I was j-just—just pass-passing b-by…”