Labrador Retriever. Victor had the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes as he thought, how fitting. The intelligent, gentle and loyal creature summed up Airlia Mondai quite perfectly. "No. But it suits you." Beautiful as the girl was, a swan would simply be too graceful for a witch who had a habit of forgetting simple spells if a certain Slytherin stared at her too intently.

Of course, Victor should have completely expected for the question to be aimed back at him. Still, he felt a little caught off-guard. Must've been the firewhiskey, it wasn't like him to be so easily surprised or to make slip-ups like this; and one thing Victor had never meant to discuss was his patronus.

But with Cavendish's threat of total nudity still lingering on him, the boy knew he had no choice.

"I don't have one," he replied simply, his gaze finally leaving Mondai's to stare absentmindedly at the record player on one side of the desk instead, from which Professor Drake's voice continued singing. "I've... never been able to perform the expecto patronum charm."

"Thanks," Airi said, a touch of irony in her voice, she wasn't quite sure it wasn't a compliment, but neither was she sure it was. Airi found herself smiling at Victor, and as she did, she realized that it had been some time since she had done anything other than glare at the boy in front of her. More and more they seemed to be at odds with one another, and the funny thing was; Airlia wasn't sure it was a bad thing. Arguing was something the Ravenclaw usually avoided at all costs, but something about Victor made her strangely confrontational, which she actually kind of.. Liked (though she was never going to admit that).

Curiosity was Airi's thing, it always had been, and when it came to Victor, her curiosity was boundless, because though she had known the boy for years, there was still so much about him she didn't know. What was his favorite color? What did he like to do with his spare time? Why did he give up Quidditch? (He had been an exceptionally good beater, and was the most graceful flier) It was funny the amount of things she DIDN'T know about Victor Vincenzi... His patronus would be a nice place to start.

Airi blinked as Victor confessed that he didn't have a patronus, Wait, what? Airi's eyes widened very slightly as surprise over took her. "You've.. Never been able to perform the charm?" How was this possible? This was Victor after all, Victor who mastered every skill with annoying ease, this just felt wrong, like the planets were out of alignment or something. "Are you sure you're performing it correctly?" Airi asked, slightly incredulous.

“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.

"Certain,"
Airi cringed, there was now a hard edge to Victor's voice, which before had taken in on a relaxed, chill tone, and Airi knew she'd stuck her foot in her mouth. The big had clearly taken offense to her previous words. She shouldn't have said anything, she should have kept quiet, but Airlia hadn't been able to help herself from blurting out the first thing that came to her mind, and now their little moment of ease was gone.

"I didn't mean it like that.. It's just that.. I was surprised because you usually, well you're impossibly clever and you accomplish everything you set your mind to, which is totally annoying by the way, and it's just.. So... Strange to hear that you have trouble with something..." She was rambling, damn firewhiskey was catching up to her, making her chattier, and apparently making her even more honest.

Airlia, like Victor, had noticed that regardless of how embarrassing the stories the two students told, or how much clothing they lost, they were neither rewarded with amenities or with their freedom and again, like Victor, she had come to the conclusion that Cavendish was trying to get them to confess something special... What if he was waiting for Airi to spill her feelings? The very thought of doing so made the Ravenclaw's stomach turn. No no, it was not coming to that.

Airi had started slightly at Victor's sudden words, she had been lost in thought, and it took a second for the girl's drunken brain to process his question. "The worst dream I've had? Well, I can't really remember the WORST... " Airi honestly replied, running her finger around the rim of her glass, her cheeks tinging pink as she recalled the memory of last nights awful dream. "But... I had a really awful one last night, I dreamed that... Well, I was at a dinner party and I was wearing this lovely dress, except it was made of cake, entirely of cake and -" Airi shivered with disgust. "- and Gianluca was chasing me, trying to eat my dress off me with this disgusting perverted smile a-and you were there... Laughing down at me from a throne.... Of naked woman, of all things, it was ridiculous and I don't know why it scared me so damn much," Airi said, her face bright red as she finished her little story. Merlin this was embarrassing.

In the midst of all the craziest of the second part of Airi's Dream, she had completely forgotten the bit about the creepy dementor like being with toothed eyes and grey, skeletal hands.

Though he seemed disinterested, Victor paid close attention to Mondai’s ramblings. In her moment of drunken chattiness, she had confessed a few truths that would have flattered the boy, had he not been placed in such an uncomfortable position already. The fact that Mondai, a brilliant mind that he secretly respected - only intellectually - thought of him so highly - ’you’re impossibly clever and you accomplish everything you set your mind to’ - was actually… well, very flattering. And not in the way his peers’ compliments fed his ego; their compliments weren’t flattering, they were just praise he expected and knew he deserved. Mondai’s positive review, on the other hand, was something he felt accomplished to have earned.

Still, Victor said nothing.
Instead, he brushed Mondai off with disinterest and denied her a verbal response. His attention shifted to her following story, which sounded even more absurd (and creative) than he’d expected.

“Gianluca was chasing after me, trying to eat my dress off…”
This hadn’t happened since the time Mondai had shown deep disturbance and horror over the rumours of her and Victor spending a night together - the boy was laughing. Laughing like a child who’d just heard a joke for the first time, the sound of it echoing bright and lively throughout the mostly empty room. Leave it up to Mondai to have nightmares that involve Gianluca’s insatiable appetite.

And, just when Victor Vincenzi seemed like he could finally summon a patronus based off Airlia’s dream alone, she continued - “…you were there, laughing down at me from a throne of naked women.” Victor couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard in his seventeen years of life. Actually, he had probably never laughed this hard. Whether it was triggered entirely by Mondai’s dream, or if the firewhiskey had anything to do with it, he wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t stop, and Victor Vincenzi seemed childlike as he laughed himself to the point of tears, which clouded his usually cold crystal blue eyes. His lightly tanned complexion had turned an unusual shade of pink, and no matter how hard the boy tried to force the laughter away by pressing a fist to his curved lips, he simply found himself falling into a new fit of laughter.

An hour had passed and Victor was still laughing.

Airi wanted to shrug off Victor's disinterest, she didn't want to worry that she had offended him, or possibly hurt his feelings, after all the boy hardly cared when it was her feelings being hurt, in fact he seemed to make that his top priority these days. But Airi wasn't like Victor, she couldn't stop herself from caring and though she let the matter lay, she knew it would be bothering her for some time. Taking one last swig of her nearly depleted firewhiskey, Airi tried to put her little mistake behind her.

Airi had been prepared for a wry insult, or some cheeky comment about her view of him. She hadn't been prepared for laughter, because he was laughing at her again, fully, joyfully, like a man who hadn't a care in the world, and Airi was torn between two emotions: Surprise, plain and simple, and reluctant amusement. "I-it wasn't that funny," She said, though Airi knew the exact opposite was true. It was funny, properly funny and the more she thought of how ridiculous it was the harder Airi had to try to keep from giggling herself.

There was something strangely endearing about seeing Victor Vincenzi grow pink with amusement, in seeing him let go of his usual control, and had Airi not been trying so very hard not to laugh, she might had been thinking about how sweet and almost innocent the boy seemed in that moment.

Victor's laughter was surprisingly pleasant, and totally infectious in it's enthusiasm and before Airlia knew it she was laughing right along with him. It was just like when they'd been in jail, and he had asked her about her flirting skills, she had been so taken aback then, she had honestly thought Victor had been going mad. The memory of all this intensified Airi's laughter, and she was clutching her sides, unable to do anything else as she laughed away. "Trying to eat my dress," Airi blurted out, tears in her eyes as she remembered that particularly stupid part of her dream.

It took Victor a few long moments to seize control of the amused laughter that insisted on escaping his lips, and by the time he was able to pull on a straight face, his cheeks and sides felt unpleasantly sore. Aw man. Throne of naked women. He had to make an astronomical effort not to burst out laughing again as he thought about it.

“That’s an interesting image you’ve got of me in your mind, Mondai,” the boy observed casually, both amused and intrigued by what must’ve been her opinion of him. Certainly her subconscious wouldn’t have placed him in that scenario if she thought of him as a studious boy or something equally innocent. Who did she think he was? Ned Hall? It was almost offensive.

And it was Mondai’s turn now.
But Victor was too intrigued now, and anyway he didn’t really care to respect the girl’s turn. “What is your impression of me?” he asked, looking eerily serious after the laughter attack had died down and the room was quiet once again. In the background, Professor Drake’s album came to a full stop after playing its last note. The room was as silent as a closed church.

Her sides and jaw were aching uncomfortably but Airlia didn't care, she wasn’t thinking about her discomfort, or the fact that she was half-naked, or even about how atrociously Slytherin Prince had treated her earlier. The only thing on her mind was how handsome Victor looked when he was at ease.

“That’s an interesting image you’ve got of me in your mind, Mondai,”
Oh if he only knew exactly what her impression of him was, he would probably sneer at her, make some cruel comment maybe, or maybe not... Airi didn't know and she had no intention of finding out anytime soon, no thank you. "Don't flatter yourself, it probably doesn't have anything to do with you," Airi replied, a short laugh leaving her pink lips.

And then he asked her what she thought of him and all the amusement and lightheartedness Airi had felt in the last ten minutes or so was sucked right out of her. The Ravenclaw tried to keep her face impassive, tried not to show her anxiety, but it was hard enough to control her emotions when she was sober, let alone when she was drunk and dead tired.

"What's my impression of you?" Airi repeated, trying to buy herself a little time as she thought of a way out of telling him the whole truth. Damn Cavendish! Damn Cavendish and his stupid, stupid inappropriate detention, forcing her into this horrid situation. "I think.... I think you're very clever... That you're the most hard working person I know, and I admire you... " Airi slowly said, blushing deeply, flustered beyond words. Please don't take my skirt, please don't take my skirt..

“It’s got everything to do with me,” replied Victor simply, his expression still serious. The comment hadn’t been meant as a sassy comeback, but as an honest observation. Mondai seemed to have an… interesting image of him in her mind, and for once the boy was actually interested in hearing her thoughts and opinions on a matter that wasn’t an upcoming test or a new charm they’d learned in class.

Clever, hard-working and admirable.
He wasn’t sure why, but Victor felt just the slightest hint of disappointment with Airlia’s response. These were positive qualities, he knew, but… part of him had hoped there would have been more.

Little did the boy know that, as he leaned back into the armchair with an air of defeat, the girl sitting across from him had just lost her skirt. And now Airlia Mondai sat before him in only her lacey bra and matching bottoms. Fortunately for her, the desk between them kept this secret hidden from the Slytherin.

Airi only rolled her eyes at Victor's words, she wasn't going to debate him on the subject of whether or not her dream had something to do with her view of him, because he was right, it totally did and debating it would only lead to dangerous territory, to an examination of her feelings; something Airi had managed somehow to avoid all night (thank merlin). She watched with relief as the boy leaned back in his chair, the feeling lasted all of two seconds, because quite suddenly Airi was aware of a chill around her hips.

Her dark eyes widened, and Airi looked down hastily to to see to her horror that Cavendish had taken her skirt, leaving the girl in only her matching, lacy undies and bra. Not only was she now nearly bear in front of the object of her affections, but now it would be obvious that she had lied. She felt like she couldn't breath, like her chest was collapsing in on itself.

In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Nope, it wasn't working, she was still freaking out, and now she was hyperventilating, damn it, damn it, damn it. This was literally the girl's worst nightmare, and she couldn't believe it was happening to her. Be calm Airlia, be calm, relax.

This was the actual worst, and as Airi slowly looked up, she tried her best not to show her mortification, but it was impossibly evident from the blush on her cheeks and the nervous way she clung to the table. "Um... I uh... W-why don't you go check the door," Airi said, trying to sound casual. She was silently praying that the door had opened while neither of them where paying any attention and that she would be able to get out of the cursed office before Victor could notice something amiss.

Victor was immersed in his own thoughts, his brow furrowed deeply above distant blue eyes which stared intently at nothing in particular. He was only snapped from his reverie when Airlia spoke up, suggesting he go check the door. Victor gave her a look. Why would the door suddenly decide to open now? Then again, Cavendish had made it obvious that his goal was to make the kids be honest and get along. And Airlia’s genuine compliments might have been enough for the man.

Without a word, Victor got up to his bare feet and walked over to the door. Unsurprisingly, it remained lock.

“I’m starting to believe he intends to keep us here until classes begin in the morning,” said the boy with a hint of irritation as he turned away from the door. But instead of walking back to Cavendish’s armchair, he moved toward the desk with the firewhiskey. There, he poured himself a glass and took a long sip before turning back to Mondai. “Perhaps we should le—” Victor nearly spit out his drink when he finally looked at the girl. Was she nude?! After a moment, he realized she just happened to be in undies.

…So her skirt was gone. She had… lied about something? Or told a half-truth?
With a wicked smile adorning his lips, Victor took in the sight of her exposed lower half before speaking again, “Hiding something, Mondai?”

Airi watched with bated breath as Victor soundlessly rose from his seat, and crossed the room to check the door. Please be open, please be open, for Merlin's sake. Airi silently begged, anxiously biting her lip as she waited for the verdict. Unfortunately for the tiny brunette, the door was indeed still locked.

At Victor's words, Airi let out a bitter, nervous laugh. "He would pull something like that," Airi distractedly said, still trying hard to appear calm and casual. Airilia had expected Victor to return to his seat, she hadn't expected him to come to stand beside her. Oh no, oh no, oh no, this was really bad, really really bad, all he had to do was look down an- and he was looking at her.

Airi flushed red as Victor's eyes looked over her form, he had been speaking, but had stopped mid sentence and was now smiling wickedly down at her in a way that made Airi's stomach twist in knots.

"Hiding something, Mondai?"
His words cut through her like a dagger and Airi desperately wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor beneath her and to just stop existing. "I... " Airi began to say, folding her hands over her lap to try to keep her modesty (it was completely ineffective). She had to answer honestly, there was no way around it. "Yes, yes, I'm hiding something" Airlia said, too petrified of losing the rest of her clothing to even try lying now.

Victor was almost giddy. Holding something over Mondai’s head always caused a thrill within him; to see her squirm, flush, grow unbearably and helplessly miserable… it filled his entire being with absolute pleasure. She just made it so easy. Not like that git MacGhilleseatheanaich that always found some way to slither out of his grip. Pathetic little worm.

As Mondai confessed that she was indeed hiding something, Victor’s serene smile grew. He knew exactly what he needed to do: ask. Just ask. As soon as he asked her the question, she would have no choice but to answer. Finally, Cavendish’s dirty tricks came to his advantage. “It must have been something… terribly embarrassing, to risk losing your skirt over it,” Victor commented casually, taking another sip of firewhiskey before setting the glass down on the professor’s desk. Staring intently at the nearly-naked sitting girl, he continued, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, “Tell me... what are you hiding, Mondai?”

Airi had never seen Victor look so happy before, it was like Christmas had come early for the Slytherin boy and his gift for being such a good boy? Airi's deepest darkest secret, of course. The Ravenclaw closed her eyes as Victor casually, smoothly commented on her attempt to hide away her secret, he was playing with her, teasing her, before going in for the kill. Airlia shivered, and though she was sure that the question was rhetorical, she didn't want to take any chances and quickly answered it. "Yes, it was very embarrassing," Airi honestly said, looking up at the boy with pleading eyes that practically begged him to drop it.

But he didn't.
"Tell me... What are you hiding, Monday?"
Her heart was beating away in her chest with all the speed and agitation of a caged pixie. She was so angry, not just with Cavendish and this stupid situation, but with herself for not being clever enough to avoid it, and lastly, but most importantly; with Victor and the pleasure he was surely taking from all this. "You want to know what I'm hiding? Fine! Fine!" Airi breathlessly said, nervously swallowing as she gathered her nerve to say what she had to say. "Here's the truth, I like you Victor, as in, I like, like you," Airi said, glaring up at him, she had intended to shut up after that, but her anger and distress was getting the better of her and soon the words were flowing from her mouth like water.

"I don't know how it started, and I did everything I could to stop it. I told myself time and time again that it was foolish, that having feelings for you would complicate so much of my life and- and I knew you wouldn't return these stupid feelings and I-I don't expect you to, after all, you, you don't care about anyone, and I'm positive you don't care about me,"Airi finished, taking a very long breath. She closed her eyes, mortified by her own words and wishing for release from all this.

Mondai’s terror was so painfully obvious and raw, that it almost felt like some physical being Victor could see, taste, or touch. And he loved it. He absolutely loved the ease with which he could bring these emotions out from the poor girl who had never really done anything to deserve so much distress. Innocent Mondai, who usually just went on about her days without bothering a single living soul… how did she manage to bring out the worst in him? Not quite as much as Robert McGit, but close enough.

Victor remained completely silent, his lips still curved into that emotionless, cold smile as he watched Airlia give in to the command. And her words brought a slow death to his pleased expression. “I like you Victor, as in, I like, like you.” Now expressionless, the boy stared down at the girl that glared hatefully up at him. Suddenly, the silence of the room felt so heavy he could almost feel it pressing against him. …Had he heard correctly?

But Mondai made sure there was no doubt to what she meant.
Victor listened, stunned, as the girl confessed everything that was left to say. And for once, no quick, witty remark tried to force its way past his lips. No, instead there was only silence. After a long moment of it, the boy seemed to reawaken, and his first instinct was to do what came most naturally to him - to dismiss the girl completely, to make some cruel and cold comment that would further infuriate her. He knew what he had to say; just a few words, just a single insult, and he could break her into a million little pieces. Because she was right - Victor Vincenzi didn’t care about anyone.

But then he remembered the words on the board and his lack of clothing. And he knew, if he went with his instinct, Cavendish wouldn’t hesitate to take his boxers. The cruel comments and the insults… they wouldn’t have been true.

“…Very well.”
With that, Victor turned away and settled at the desk with the firewhiskey. However, he didn’t refill his glass.

The silence was deafening in it's entirety. It was somehow worst than if he had been insulting her, at least with the insults she knew where she stood, instead of holding her breath for a sign. Her eyes were still closed tightly, it made it easier to pretend she was dreaming if her eyes were closed. Airi couldn't believe it, she couldn't believe she had just confessed her affection for Victor Vincenzi. He was going to lord this over her forever, the Ravenclaw could feel it in her bones, oh yes, Victor would get nothing but pleasure from teasing her about these strange feelings she held for him.

Airlia took a deep breath and opened her eyes, looking up to an expressionless Victor, searching his eyes and his features for a sign, an indication to what he was feeling, but as usual the boy's expression was inscrutable.

And then he spoke exactly two words and walked away from her, like nothing had ever happened. "Very well? T-that's it, that's all you have to say?" Airi asked, unable to keep the words from flying out of her lips. She felt angry and incredulous, but under that was a feeling of loss, an empty ache within her where Airi had nurtured that little grain of hope that Victor might just return her feelings. It was gone now, because it was very obvious that her little confession had disgusted him, why else wouldn't he look at her.

But, he had helped her, he had squished those stupid rumors for her and had pulled her out of the way of a rampaging banana, not to mention carrying her up to Ravenclaw tower... There was no way he had done all these things without caring about her. Airi needed to ask him, now, where he couldn't slither out of the question. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died in her throat as confetti began shooting from the ceiling.

"Wha-" Airi began to say, but she was cut off as the voice of Cavendish boomed through the office with boisterous joy.

"Well done children! You have passed my little test and our free to go!! Enjoy a life without the burden of lies! Now Get Out Of My Office!!"

Airi slowly removed her hands from her ears, turning to face Victor with a look of surprise on her features.

Victor seemed to have developed a deep interest in Cavendish’s blackboard as he gazed at it intently, like it was some fascinating work of art. In reality, he was simply avoiding looking at Mondai. “That’s all you have to say?” Did he have to answer that? Would Cavendish take his boxers if he didn’t? Because, truth was, Victor himself wasn’t sure of the answer to that question. What he had wanted to say were lies, so there was no point in speaking his mind.

He regretted looking at her the second he saw her. She seemed furious and disbelieving, but most of all, she seemed a little… disappointed? Saddened? It was at that moment that it dawned on Victor that, secretly, Mondai had wished he would have returned her feelings. With this realization came that strange feeling again, the same feeling that had overtaken him when they were crossing the castle gates, when Airlia cried as she confessed the rumours to him. That feeling of… needing “to do something about it.”

“Airlia, I…”

And then Cavendish’s voice echoed throughout the room at a deafening volume, startling the Slytherin as he looked up to find colourful bits of confetti falling from the ceiling like coloured snow. That bloody blastardo… Still, Victor couldn’t bring himself to be upset. Was this true or just another one of Cavendish’s dirty tricks? Were they really free? Victor looked past Mondai, at the door, and his eyes widened at the sight: the door was ajar. All they had to do was walk out. This was it. It was over.

This also meant he didn’t have to answer Mondai’s question or confess whatever stupidity he was about to spill just a minute ago. He was free to go, and free to continue with the cruel lies that brought him so much comfort (naturally, Victor learned nothing from this lesson). “Looks like your little confession got us out of here, Mondai,” he said, back to his usual cold, smug self. Flashing the girl a pleased and mocking smile, Victor began to make his way toward the door when Cavendish spoke again—

“Oh, and children - please don’t forget your clothes in the broom cupboard in back of the room! Wouldn’t want our janitor to sell those fine Italian leather shoes for merchandise of the herbal kind, would we, Mr. Vincenzi?” Cavendish’s laughter echoed throughout the room like the cackle of a madman. It totally was, actually. But he continued, his voice muffled, “That was great, wasn’t it, Drakey?” “Nawh man, I dunno, that was kinda cruel, dawg.”

Victor couldn’t believe his ears. Cavendish was absolutely out of his mind. He literally was a madman, and all the boy wanted at that moment was to find him and shove him out the nearest tower window. “Maledetto blastardo,” he muttered under his breath as he turned away from the door to walk over to the broom cupboard. As the man had predicted, his and Mondai’s clothes lay in a neat folded pile, looking fresh out of the laundry.

Airi hadn't expected this to hurt so much, after all, it wasn't a surprise that Victor didn't feel the same as she did, in fact that was the only thing Airi had really been certain of. Nonetheless, the confirmation of this fact was making her chest ache painfully. Airlia wished desperately that she could take back the whole night, and along with it every truth she had spilled; she wanted to take back her words of admiration, and the kiss and most importantly her confession. But she couldn't, Airi would just have to live with this.

She was still glaring at the boy when he turned his attention from the blackboard to herself. Was it Airi's imagination or had his features softened? It reminded her of how he had looked when he had tried to comfort her about the rumors, even his voice as he spoke, held none of it's previous coldness and- her name, he was speaking her first name. Airi held her breath, waiting for the boy to finish, but then Cavendish had interrupted and the moment was gone.

“Looks like your little confession got us out of here, Mondai,”
Airi glowered, anger and hurt welling up in her all at once again as the boy went right back to his usual cold and arrogant ways. The nerve!! How could he tease her so easily after she had bared herself to him!? Victor was the devil, Airlia was certain of it. "You are the absolute worst, Victor Vincenzi," The girl said, furious beyond all words. She wanted to punch him in the throat, or choke him with his own necktie, both would have been impossibly satisfying.

Airi barely listened to what Cavendish was saying, she was lost in her own mind, consumed by the depth of her storming emotions. The brunette closed her eyes tightly, trying to calm herself, because she really did not want to start crying right then and if she didn't calm herself she would be doing exactly that.

Their clothes? Oh right, she was practically naked, she had somehow forgotten this, but somehow it didn't matter quite as much to the girl anymore, though, she still wasn't about to stand up and let Victor see her properly. Airi pulled out her wand and silently accioed her clothing, which zipped quickly through the room and landed in her lap, she hurriedly pulled on her pristine blouse and though she had to raise her hips off the chair, she managed to get her skirt on without standing and further embarrassing herself (which was a small victory, but helped nonetheless). "Cavendish is evil,"

Victor was pulling on his trousers and adjusting his belt when Mondai spoke, accusing him of being ‘the absolute worst’. The words were like music to his ears. “That’s what I strive for,” he replied casually. Didn’t she know already? Victor Vincenzi wasn’t one to be bothered with feelings or emotions, especially the loving kind. Unless you were a Vincenzi yourself - or perhaps Hall - chances were the boy would let you drown. Like that little boy in his childhood memory.

The boy pulled on his crisp, white dress shirt as Mondai managed, with surprising ability, to pull on her clothes without ever leaving the chair. This slightly disappointed Victor, but he made no comment about it, proceeding to adjust the cuffs of his shirt as the girl expressed her opinion of their blastardo professor.

“He won’t be getting away with this,” said Victor, more to himself than to the girl. He would definitely have a talk with the headmaster about this, possibly start a petition to get the madman fired. There was no way someone this absolutely insane could be allowed to be a professor. That Drake git, too.

“I suggest you get up from that chair if you want to get out of here, Mondai.” Victor flashed her a mocking smile, poking fun at her determination to remain seated, before moving away from the broom closet and making his way out of the room, buttoning his shirt and adjusting his tie as he walked out into the corridor.

What the boy hadn’t expected, though, was for their classmates to be standing outside. It seemed Cavendish had kept them locked in the room all night, and morning classes were beginning already. But Victor was used to the attention, so he paid no mind to the stares and whispers that followed him down to the dungeons. Little did he know this was just the beginning of yet another rumour.

"He won't be getting away with this,"
No, of course not. No one made fun of Victor Vincenzi and got away with it, he was a prince of Slyhterin house and the heir to the Vencenzi dynasty! He needed to be feared, and respected, but not loved, no that was an icky, uncomfortable thing Victor surely had no time for. Airi sarcastically thought, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder with an air of obvious agitation. The young girl wouldn't feel normal or at ease again until she was out of the older boy's presence.

Airi clenched her fists as Victor teased her again, and though her wand hand itched to curse the boy into oblivion, she resisted it. He wasn't worth going to Azakaban over, totally wasn't worth it. Airi couldn't even think of how to respond to him, she was far too angry, and far too upset and she had once more retreated into herself in an effort to save herself from further pain and embarrassment. The young girl stood up, watching Victor silently as finished buttoning his shirt and adjusting his tie, looking as cool as ever. The blastardo, he didn't even have the decency to look like he had been drinking or was sleep deprived, the git.

Airi didn't even tell Victor good bye or good night as she walked out behind him, completely oblivious to the stares and whispers of her peers as she made her way to the tower, eager to sleep off her awful night.


Ned was sprawled out on a couch, alone in the Slytherin common room with only a copy of Emma (which he had bewitched to look like Quidditch Through the Ages) to keep him company. The common room was quiet, unnervingly so (Ned had turned off his trusty boom box after listening to Yeezus for the 7893636th time that day) but Ned found he was liking this strangely empty feeling in the air.

It matched how he felt on the inside; empty, numb, cold. Ned hated it, hated the lack of feeling, but it was the only thing he could do, only way that he could cope with his failure, and his embarrassment.

The Slytherin growled to himself as he pushed away these treacherous thoughts. He didn't need this sappiness, he was Ned Hall, heir to a long line of strong, savvy business men and wizard aristocracy, and Ned Hall didn't go through emotional turmoil over a girl, Ned Hall didn't suffer through heartache and he most certainly didn't pine over beautiful Italians who thought of him as their brother. No, nope, that wasn't Ned.

And as Ned thought of all this, he fell off into a light doze of troubled sleep.

By the time Victor reached the Slytherin Common Room, he was all dressed up in his usual uniform attire, looking as prim and proper as ever. Despite having spent the entire night up, the boy didn’t feel sleepy. He was tired, that was true, but he wasn’t as sleepy and eager to drop dead on his bed as he had expected. Instead, he was buzzing with energy, with an eagerness to meet someone who didn’t have shoulder-length dark brown hair and kissable full pink lips. He’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime.

The sight to greet Victor as he stepped into the underground Slytherin common room was an unexpected one. It wasn’t like Hall to fall asleep on a couch when he had a perfectly comfortable bed waiting for him upstairs. But nothing was normal these days, starting with his best mate who suddenly seemed to think he was a popular American rapper who thought he held the same level of importance as Jesus himself.

With an exhausted sigh, Victor plopped down on an armchair near the fireplace, across from the couch where his best mate lay, sprawled out like a child who’d spent too much time out in the playground.

“Hall,” he called out to him in an even tone of voice. Seeing that it held no results, he raised the volume slightly, “Hall! Wake up, you bloody blastardo.”

Ned's dreams were full of dark, shadowy figures with cruel hands and a voice like ice that cut through him like a knife. The figure repeated itself over and over, but no matter how hard Ned tried to understand what the figure wanted, the words were never clear enough for him to grasp. "Hall, Hall.... " it was saying his name now, and the voice had changed, had lost some of it's ethereal chill and sounded much more familiar, almost like... Almost like...

"Hall! Wake up, you bloody blastardo,"
Ned jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest, his eyes wide and unseeing, still caught up in the dream that had so frightened the boy. It took Ned a few seconds to realize that it was the ever pristine form of his best mate before him and not the horrifying ghost figure, but once he did, he relaxed. "Damn Victor! What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?" Ned asked, clutching at his chest. He would have been amused by all this had he not just had the daylights scared out of him.

Ned looked about the room, and was pleased to see that his little display of cowardice had gone unseen (and thank goodness for that, it would have totally messed with his aloof reputation). "What was so important you needed to wake me up for?" Ned grumpily asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he settled back comfortably into the couch.

What had that dream been all about? Ned couldn't remember distinct details, but he recalled something about about grey hands and a hooded figure that had left his skin crawling...

Victor raised a single eyebrow as Ned jumped on the couch with such force, it was a miracle he didn’t end up rolling right off onto the cold stone floor. “I take it you were having a bad dream,” he said, ignoring his friend’s question about the heart attack. It wasn’t like Hall to wake up so startled; Victor was used to him either taking his time to wake up, usually with a smile on his face brought on by the veela beauties that occupied his dreams. Whatever he was dreaming with this time, however, was definitely not a veela.

As the English boy questioned his rude awakening, Victor replied simply, “I just finished Cavendish’s detention.” It had only taken what, like ten hours?

"Yeah... I guess... Funny, I can't remember it now," Ned said, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. It had seemed so important that he remember the dream, as if it held an answer to some unasked question. Whatever, it probably didn't matter and like most strange things in Ned Hall's life, he casually shrugged it off.

"Just got done with the detention?" Ned repeated, his usually sharp mind moving slowly from his cat nap. It took him a few seconds to remember that Victor hadn't come back to their dorm last night, and even longer to remember that the boy had spent the evening doing penance for his crimes. "Oh yeah... Wait... What the hell kind of detention goes on all night?" Ned asked, frowning at the ridiculousness of this statement. It was then that Ned remembered another key component to all this...

Victor hadn't been punished alone, oh no, he had been accompanied by his lovely lady Saint Airlia. Yeaaahhh, Ned doubted it had been the detention detaining the Slytherin Prince all that time. "Or was it something else keeping you up all night? Huh? Did Your basilisk visit any secret chambers last night, Vicks?" Ned said, smirking broadly.

Victor furrowed his brow slightly as Ned dismissed the dream that had obviously left him so disturbed. Hmm. Funny, first Hall decides to turn into Ned West, then he starts having nightmares (because the boy knew this wasn’t his friend’s first time awakening from a dream in a startled state). Still, Victor didn’t question it. Yet.

“A Cavendish ‘special detention’, apparently,” replied Victor, hatred obvious in the way he spit out the professor’s name like it was some filthy thing. Just thinking about the man brought back sweet daydreams of murder. For once, it wasn’t Robert MacGhilleseatheanaich who occupied his mind.

At Ned’s next comment, Victor glared at the boy. He understood just what he was getting at; after all, he and Vianna were partially responsible for spreading the rumours that had begun to haunt him and Mondai the past week. “No.” The boy’s expression turned more thoughtful as his eyes became distant, looking back on the past numerous hours he had spent locked in a room with their Ravenclaw friend. “But I did learn a few things…” Like how Mondai was secretly an Avril Lavigne fan and looked ridiculously amazing in lacey undergarments. But, most importantly, “She likes me, mate.”

Little did Victor know this piece of information had been absurdly obvious to most by now. And for once, he was the clueless one of the group.