What on earth was Vince saying? His spoke with such sincerity and true affection and Airlia confused by this sudden display of affection, looked to Vianna, only to see her own amusement mirrored back at her. Was Vince really this amazing of an actor or was he actually crushing on some boy? "Y-your Romeo?" Airi echoed, her eyes wide.

The boy, er, girl then launched into a monologue filled with nauseatingly sweet sentiments, and just as Airi had begun to accept Vince's homosexuality as fact: He named the beautiful boy whose features he had described with such loving detail.

Himself, Vince Vincenzi was talking about himself. Airi fell face first onto the bed. Because she was done. Done. Done. She couldn't even begin to express just how ridiculous tVince was at the moment. Not only was he in a maid's uniform three sizes too small, but he was actually pretending to be in love with himself. What Even.

"I'm sorry, the person you're trying to reach no longer exists," Airi said, though it sounded rather muffled as she still had her face pressed against the bed covers. She couldn't even begin to think of a clever way of answering Vince back after what he'd just said.

Vianna placed a hand over her mouth to hold back the giggles that escaped her lips. Airi’s disbelief and resignation to the situation only seemed to add on to the hilarity, from the Italian’s point of view. This sleepover had made a sharp turn toward the absurd and the insane.

Vince wasn’t as amused, though. Actually, he was confused. Why was Airi giving up on life all of a sudden? Was his question - ‘who do you like?’ - more than she could bear? Did she really like his brother THAT much? Mannnnn. This was going to be a loooong night; once the girls finally confessed their undying love for Nector, Vince was sure the confessions would last all night. In one swift movement, the boy snatched Vianna’s bottle of butterbeer from her hand and took one giant gulp. When he offered the bottle back, she refused it.

“I’m sorry darling, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” he said understandingly, petting Airi’s back consolingly. He didn’t realize he was actually the source of her distress.

Vianna looked from Vince to Airi and back. “I have an idea!” she said suddenly, a bright smile lighting her face. “Who wants a mani and pedi?!” she asked, hopping off the bed to fetch the manicure set that conveniently happened to be sitting on a countertop in the bathroom.

Vince gasped dramatically, blue eyes wide. “Oh, I do! I do!” Girls were supposed to really be into that stuff, yeah? He’d best act interested.

What was wrong with the universe? Who had knocked it out of whack? Why did she seem to suddenly attract weirdness? All of these questions were echoing about in Airi's head as she lay stiff as a board on the bed. She blatantly refused to be part of this nonsense any longer, Maybe she ought to just lay like this until all of existence was once again back to normal....

Airi stiffened as Vincerella patted her on the back in a manner she supposed was meant to seem comforting and kind, instead, the action only seemed to exaggerate just how weird this situation had become. Airlia mumbled something indistinct that sounded vaguely like the word "ridiculous", but nothing more.

A mani and pedi?
Actually, that did sound nice, and Airlia couldn't remember the last time she'd taken out the time to do her nails, plus, a coat of polish would be a welcome change from her currently ink-stained fingers. Airi raised her hand, face still planted firmly against the blanket. "Meeee," She said, speaking at the same time as Vince, their voices overlapping. The Ravenclaw raised up her head, a small, but amused smile on her face. At least the boy was committed, she had to give him that. Recovering slightly from her earlier gloom, Airi rose from the bed, and crossed the room to sit next to Vincerella.

Well, if he wanted to be a girl, who was she to stop him? Smirking slightly, Airi took in his features with a playful scrutiny, her eyes lingering particularly long on the slightly unkempt eyebrows, and his, er, her stubble. "I think we should give you a make over Vincerella... I mean, you're already a gorgeous girl, but with me and Vi's help, you're bound to grab the attention of Vince," Airi said, a small, but mischievous glint in her eyes.

Vince watched as Airi seemed to come back to life, leaving Vianna’s bed to join him on her own. He watched as she examined him closely, and for the first time that night he felt a little insecure about his act. Oh no; Airi was one of the brightest minds in the school, no doubt she’d notice immediately if something was off?! But, much to his relief, the girl didn’t seem to realize his true identity - no, instead she proposed the idea of giving him a makeover to capture the heart of his crush, Vince Vincenzi.

“Oh, Airi, you’d do that for me?!” asked Vincerella sweetly, placing an oversized hand on the Ravenclaw’s leg, just above her knee. Hey, they were girl friends now, right? This meant he got touching privileges. Smirk.

Vianna walked out at that moment, setting the kit down on the bed and joining the other two. She watched the mischievous look on Airi’s face and the hopeful sparkle in Vince’s eyes. “Did you guys just scheme something without me?!” she asked with mock offense, gasping loudly and bouncing onto the bed.

Airi had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Vince was sillier than she thought, he really believed that he had them fooled, goodness gracious. "Of course I would," Airi amusedly replied, she'd been smirking slightly as she'd spoke, but a second later the smirk had evaporated because Vince had inappropriately positioned his hand on her leg.

OHMYGOSHVINCENO. VINCEWHATAREYOUDOING. VINCE STAHP.
Airi knew that little smirk, it was one that had absolutely no business being directed her way, certainly not! But she certainly couldn't just push him off, not without alerting him to Arianna's suspicions (Vince was dull, but he wasn't that dull, maybe she could slowly, and subtly dislodge his hand without his noticing?

Airi squeaked in surprise as Vianna reentered the conversation, mockingly accused herself and Vince. Laughing equally at her own silly reaction and Vianna's words, Airi shook her head. "Only giving Vincerella here a make-over... I think we should start with these unruly eyebrows," Airlia said with a nod.

“A make-over? Ohmygosh, that’s an excellent idea!” Vianna squealed delightedly, clapping her hands with excitement. AW MAN. This was going to be a riot. Vince had no idea what he was getting himself into… “Ah!” the girl hopped up from the bed suddenly. “We need some background music first!” With that, she made her way over to the stereo and placed her favourite CD album inside (don’t ask me where they’re getting all these things from) - Marina and The Diamonds’s “Electra Heart.”

“Now we may begin,” she announced with a mischievous little smile, pressing play and running back to the bed as Marina’s “Primadonna” began filling the room with her melodious voice and upbeat music.

Vince didn’t look half as excited as the girls anymore, though. Oh no, not when Airi was going on about doing something with his “unruly eyebrows.” This got the boy’s hand to fly from her leg to place its fingers over one of his eyebrows instead. “Wha—what do you mean? M-my eyebrows are fine…”

Vianna shook her head determinedly, sitting on her knees and crossing her arms before the boy, sort of blocking his path should he decide to dart forward and toward the door. “No way, Vincerella! No offense, but those are men’s eyebrows you’ve got there.”

Vincerella gasped. It could’ve been taken as a gasp of offense, though it was mostly one from shock. If his eyebrows looked too manly, then… he might begin to look suspicious! And then the whole plan would come crumbling down - oh no, we can’t have that! He still had to get the girls to confess their undying love for Nector!

“Al—alright, and… what do you suppose we do, then?”

Vince really had no idea what he'd agreed to, when Arianna were done with him, he'd be almost unrecognizable, and not necessarily in a good way. Yes, the eyebrows first, then his beard and maybe they'd have a go at his legs too, they would look so much lovelier waxed.

"Isn't it just?" Airi said, watching fondly as Vianna energetically hopped off her bed, declaring excitedly that they couldn't begin without music. It was adorable how happy the girl got when she was plotting, it was almost enough to make Airi forget about The man-hand on her leg. What was it with people indecently assaulting her lately? First Gianluca, then Robert (sort of) and now Vince? Was she putting out some weird vibe or something?

Or maybe she was thinking too much on it, the gesture was probably an accident! Vince didn't think of her as an actual lady with lady bits, he thought of her as a brain. Mentally shaking her head, Airi turned her attention back to the siblings. "Yes, let's," Airi said, nodding her head in time to the infectious beat of the song.

Airlia couldn't contain her laugh, Vince looked like he was about to make a run for it! "We wax them of course," Airi said, speaking matter of factly. "And then a bit of plucking... And we really must do something about your cuticles... "Airi said, fussing over Vince's manicured hands, tutting loudly.

"That bear- I mean, that peach fuzz has to go too," she said, turning to Vianna with an conspiratorial look in her eyes. "What do you think, Vi?"

“WAX?!” Ooohhoho no, oh no… Vince was NOT going to be putting hot wax on his beautiful face and tearing his eyebrows from his skin! That was… medieval! For Merlin’s sake, they were witches, hadn’t they figured a less brutal way to do these kind of things already!?

Vince was so shocked with the torture he had just agreed to, that he didn’t keep up with Airi’s long list of things they were planning to… “improve.” From her spot on the bed, Vianna giggled mischievously, nodding her head in agreement with the Ravenclaw. “Yes! I think we should do all the waxing first - y’know, get the worst out of the way first, and then give hi—her a manicure.”

Pulling out her wand, the girl summoned some hot wax, popsicle sticks, and waxing strips (again don’t ask me where all this stuff is coming from). “It’ll be quick, I promise. Just… lay down and think of pretty things,” said Vianna soothingly, standing from the bed and not-so-gently shoving her brother down onto the bed, gesturing for Airi to hold him down should he decide to run. “Pretty things like, y’know… Vince. And how much better he’ll like you once we’re done with you.” Smirk.

From the bed, Vince looked up at his little sister with large, horrified blue eyes. This was definitely not part of the sleepover daydream he’d created in his head.

"Surely you've waxed before?" Airi said, badly faking her surprise at Vincerella's exclamation, her eyes were far too wide and little o shape of her mouth kept trembling with amusement. It was a good thing Vince was so oblivious otherwise Airi would have totally blown their cover by now.

"Yes, I am complete agreement Doctor Vincenzi," Airi said, crossing her arms over her chest, Trying to keep her feature calm, but she was beginning to fail. She watched with restrained amusement as Vianna pushed Vince forcefully on the bed (The girl had the worst bedside manner, honestly).

Airi needed to stop giggling, really needed to stop giggling and hold Vince down like a good nurse (where did all this doctor stuff come from? Airi didn't know, but it was fun.... ). "Vince won't be able to keep his hands off of you, we promise!" Airi said, though it didn't sound very sincere. She Loomed over the boy, her hands gripping his arms to keep him in place.

"Best if you keep your eyes closed, sweetie,"

Vianna bit at her bottom lip to keep herself from giggling at the look of horror on her brother’s face, and the sight of Airi holding him down on the bed. Perhaps his idiotic idea to crash their girls’ night out wasn’t so bad after all. It did give her a chance to get back at him for the years of ruined relationships at his and Victor’s hands. Vianna just hoped the oldest Vincenzi was watching and took this as a warning sign.

“Wha—wai—wait, I’m not ready yet!” Vincerella complained as Vianna began to gently place the hot wax on one of his eyebrows. “Hold—hold on! Vianna!”

But the girl had turned deaf ears to his pleas, taking a waxing strip and pressing it hard against the hot wax. With Vince flailing about and screaming to be let free, the girl grabbed a little edge of the paper and pulled in one swift motion.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”

Strengthened by the brutal pain and burning on his right eyebrow, Vincerella shot himself upward, sitting up on the bed with both hands covering his face. “BLOODY HELL! Merda! Fa male! Maledetto blastardo!” A long string of curses mixed in English and Italian followed before the boy dared to pull his hands from his face.

Smiling serenely, Vianna took a step closer to her brother and handed him a handheld mirror. “Look how much prettier you are without that caterpillar over your eyes, Vincerella!”

One look at the neon red spot where his right eyebrow had once been, and the boy’s blue eyes rolled back. He fell backward onto the bed, the mirror slipping from his limp fingers and landing ungracefully on his face.

Airi hadn't expected this level of panic. Vince was acting as if Vianna was coming at him with a sword and not some paper and hot wax. It was taking all her strength to keep the flailing boy in place (why she hadn't just used a stick charm, Airi didn't know), as he tried, unsuccessfully, to reason with a vengeful Vianna.

He was freaking out, and Airlia, sweet thing that she was, was beginning to worry that he was going to pop a blood vessel with all the screaming and thrashing he was doing. Airi was about suggest that they leave off, lest the boy- er, girl, be injured, when Vianna laid the paper down over Vince's masculine eyebrow only to viciously rip it off a second later.

Airi's hands were on her ears as Vince let out a scream to reveal a mandrake. Oh Merlin, Vianna had actually waxed off the boy's entire eyebrow. Torn between laughing hysterically and feeling a little bad for her part in all this, Airi could only stand by quietly with her hands pressed to her mouth

At Vianna's words, Airlia couldn't help laughing, though a second later the laugh gave way to a loud gasp as Vince's eyes rolled back, before he proceeded to faint in the most dramatic of fashions.

"Did he just- did he- really?" Airi said incredulously. "Who faints over an eyebrow!!??" This was ridiculous! Who fainted over something this fixable and shallow? Vince apparently. "I don't even know anymore." Airlia added, shaking her head with disbelief at Vince's lack of nerve. So much for Gryffindor Bravery...

Vianna smirked triumphantly when Vince fell over, knocked out cold like a bludger had just hit him in the face. As Airi expressed her disbelief over the situation, the Italian had no choice but to give in to the burst of laughter that escaped her lips. OHMYGOODNESS, this whole thing had been completely absurd! Ridiculous!

“Don’t worry about it, you know my brother faints over everything,” she assured the Ravenclaw, rolling her eyes at the lifeless form of her brother. With an amused smile, she proceeded to sit beside him on the bed, using his outstretched arm as pillow and his legs as a resting place for her feet. “I’m almost certain, though…” started Vianna in a low, careful whisper - “Vince didn’t come here alone. The other two must be lurking about somewhere, probably waiting for his report.”

Naturally, Vianna was able to accept her brother's fainting as easily as she accepted everything, something the Ravenclaw deeply admired, especially because she had a tendency to almost overreact in certain scenarios. "I suppose... I'm still checking for a pulse though, just to be safe.' Airlia said, leaning over Vince's large frame and pressing her fingers to his neck. Yep, still alive, okay she could relax now.

Airlia smiled with light amusement as Vianna used Vince's unconscious body as a makeshift pillow, actually it looked pretty comfortable, and after a seconds thought, Airi imitated her friend's sitting arrangement. "Hmm?" Airi turned to face Vianna, her dark eyes inquisitive as Vianna stated that Nector must be lurking nearby, awaiting Vince's report. "You're right... They wouldn't trust Vince enough to be too far off... Actually, it's kind of creepy," Airi said, frowning at the thought of the two Slytherin's watching them without their knowledge.

"I don't understand them at all, If they really want to know how we feel, they should just be asking us," Airi said, sighing deeply.

Vianna watched with amusement as Airi, ever the responsible and careful Ravenclaw, checked Vince’s pulse. It was a shame the boy was knocked out cold, or else he would’ve rather enjoyed having the girl draped on him using him as a pillow.

“You’re right,” muttered Vianna, absentmindedly tugging at Vince’s fingers. “It is creepy… Absurd, the lengths they go to to avoid talking to us,” she said, rolling her crystal blue eyes. “That’s all this is about, really. It’s not so much about wanting to know as it is just trying to avoid all possible conversation with us…” If the boys were really so eager to gather information from them, they would’ve simply conversed with them. But they were stupid and immature and apparently couldn’t be bothered with that simple task.

“We ought to teach them a lesson,” said the girl softly but determinedly, her brows furrowing as she stared at the TV. She’d almost forgotten all about Patrick Bateman until his beautifully sculpted face graced the television screen. “After we finish the movie, yeah?” she added as an afterthought, a grin lighting up her face.

Airlia was staring at ceiling, it was painted to look like a darkened night sky, and as Vianna spoke, the Ravenclaw traced constellations whilst listening to her with quiet intent.

She sighed deeply at Vianna's keen observation, struck by the truth of it. The boys weren't out looking for ways to woo them, they were trying to avoid them. It was... Well, it was stupid and the more Airlia thought on it, the more annoyed she became. "They're idiots... I've lost complete patience with both of them," Airi frowned and slipped a hand distractedly through her dark locks, still laying rather comfortably on Vince.

"Agreed," Airlia thoughtfully said, and though she was paying close attention to Vianna, her mind was elsewhere. "Honestly though, I feel like we should have expected this, of course the boys are stalking us, it's kind of the group thing," Airi said, with a thin, ironic smile,

"I like the way you think Vianna Vincenzi," Airi jokes, her dark eyes turning to the tv screen as Patrick Bateman started to dance in a rain jacket while Paul Allen drunkenly sat, unaware of his fate... "Oh this is the best part!" Airi excitedly said, jumping up and grabbing two butter beers before hurriedly slipping back onto the bed and handing one to Vianna.




Airi was tipsy, just a bit. It was probably that bottle of Firewhiskey that had done it and as the movie ended with Patrick Bateman’s monologue: Airi was filled with contented warmth. It was funny, but it seemed all she’d needed to feel like herself again was some girly talk, lots of junk food and a few drinks. “What’d you think? Did you like it?” Airi asked, turning to Vianna with an expectant smile on her face. She was a bit worried she might have hyped up the movie too much....

Meanwhile, across the way...

Ned had fallen into a light doze, and was leaning with his head against Victor's shoulder, completely oblivious to the world around him. Normally, Ned wasn't much prone to randomly falling asleep in odd places, but he'd had a long week and watching two beautiful girls watching a movie was only a quarter as exciting as it sounded. "The Geraniums look nice... " Ned murmured, speaking incoherently in his sleep.

And then Ned began to dream...

A figure, cold, and dark, with twisted gnarled limbs had appeared in the Shack, it did not move, it did not speak, it merely stood there, and waited. The children, they had desecrated his home, turned it into a place of immoral decadence. The Wraith would make them pay for that. Make them pay for their transgression and their arrogance but, the Wraith could not do this alone, he needed a medium, a being of magic whose anger or resentment he could feed off of.

The Wraith had lived for many years and through out it's time it had leaned the most valuable trait of all.

It had learned patience.

The boy muttered incoherently, unable to wake himself from the nightmare, his hands reached out and grabbed for the nearest object, which just happened to be Victor's arm, which he now clung to, like a child with it's teddy.

The movie had been disturbing.
Very disturbing. And the fact that Airi’s favourite part had consisted of an innocent man being hacked to death with an ax, only troubled Vianna further. But. BUT. Despite the slight worry for her friend’s mental health, triggered by her enthusiasm over the movie’s most violent scenes, Vianna enjoyed it. Patrick Bateman was an interesting character; a performer, a deeply troubled but intelligent man. And he would certainly become an unforgettable in the girl’s mind.

“Wow.”
Vianna blinked at the TV screen as the credits began to roll, her eyebrows raised high on her forehead. “That was… slightly frightening. But… bloody amazing,” she concluded, turning to Airi with large blue eyes before her expression broke into a smile. Wow. WOW.

By now, enough time had passed for Vince to return to consciousness, and he was pleasantly surprised to find himself with two girls draped over him like he was some sort of huge body pillow. Well, only one girl excited him. The other he’d rather do without. And for this reason, the boy casually stretched, pretending to be in a deep sleep. In the process, he shoved Vianna so far to the edge of the bed, the girl almost rolled to the floor; while his other arm remained perfectly content under Airi’s weight, though his hand re-adjusted to rest on her thigh, his fingers just very slightly slipping under her nightgown.

Snore.

“Bloody git! Even asleep he’s annoying,” muttered an irritated Vianna as she sat up straight on the bed, glaring down at her brother’s seemingly sleeping face.



Like Vianna, Victor was disturbed. Unlike Vianna, Victor did not enjoy the movie.
Just what the hell did Mondai see in that creepy git Bateman that had her squealing so delightedly on almost every scene? As the title of the movie revealed already, the man was a psychopath. And a serial killer, for Circe’s sake! Who knew the seemingly-innocent girl had such a taste for… dark, twisted things?

Victor was distracted running a mental analysis over Bateman’s character when he felt something suddenly cling on to him for dear life. He’d almost forgotten Ned was there with him, having been so consumed by the movie and the girls’ reaction to it. “What the bloody hell are you doing? Wake up, Hall!” With one effortless wave of his arm, the boy knocked his friend off himself and onto the dirt floor.

“We’ve lost Vince,” he reported, as if this was a military mission they were on and his brother had been taken away by the enemy. “And Mondai and my sister have developed a sick attraction for American murderers…”

American Psycho wasn't exactly a feel good movie, and with it's rather intense violent and obscene scenes, well... It wasn't exactly slumber party fare, and Airlia had begun to worry that her choice had been a bad one. It probably hadn't helped that she herself had been most enthusiastic during the violent scenes, pledging her undying love for Patrick Bateman without a thought.

"Wow,"
Airi bit her lip, uncertain whether it was wow, that movie was awful and what is wrong with you or- Bloody amazing. "Oh, I'm so glad you liked it! I was sure you'd hate it.. Not too mention you'd start thinking me mad," Airi said, laughing lightly from her spot on the bed, feeling much more at ease now.

The Ravenclaw giggled as Vince sleepily stretched out, nearly pushing off his sister in the process. It seemed even asleep Vince was trying to annoy the youngest Vincenzi and judging by the look on the girl's pretty face, it had worked. Airi slowly became aware of a warm sensation on her thigh, just beneath her polka dotted nightgown and for a second, she believed it to be the duvet beneath her. Except that the duvet had callouses... Like the kind you get from broom racing...

With a loud, undignified, and very embarrassed squeak; Airlia jumped up from the bed and away from Vince's roaming fingers, her face so red it was nearly coloring the roots of her hair. "Something tells me he isn't s-s-sleeping" Airi said, embarrassed out of her mind.



Ned gasped, his breath catching uncomfortably in his chest as he was rudely awakened by his head hitting the dirt floor. It wasn't painful, but the shock of having woken so violently, and the remnants of his disturbing dream had the boy shaking. "The Bloody Hell!" He croaked out, his bright eyes searching the area frantically before falling on the familiar, calming form of Victor Vincenzi.

"Merlin Vick, you couldn't have woken up a little gently?" Ned said, his eyes narrowing. Bloody inconsiderate git, Ned was only sleeping on this stupid dirty floor because of him (actually it was because of Vianna, but whatever). "What'd you mean we lost Vince?" Ned asked, slowly coming back to himself, the memory of the dream fading fast. "And what's this about a murderer?"

Vianna jumped in the bed when Airi let out a high-pitched squeak that nearly shattered the girl’s ear drums. “What’s wro—” …Not sleeping? As the Ravenclaw voiced her suspicion, Vianna turned to the snoring boy that remained still on the bed. Though, even “asleep” the disappointment was clear on his features. Airi was right. Their new little friend Vincerella was wide awake beneath her closed lids.

“Oh, Vincerellaaaaaa,” said Vianna in a singsongy voice, slowly picking up a pillow and suddenly bringing it down upon the boy’s face. A startled Vince jerked suddenly, covering his face with his arms as his sister continued to mercilessly attack him with the pillow. “Time to wake up, silly!”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Vince exclaimed, holding on to his wig for dear life.



Victor ignored Ned’s initial complaints, watching in the handheld mirror as Vianna beat up Vincerella, who seemed to have come back to his/her senses. “They waxed his eyebrow off, knocked him out,” explained the boy. “Now they’re beating him with pillows.” He set the mirror aside and looked at his friend with a questioning eyebrow, ignoring his last question. “What happened to you, anyway? You’ve been having nightmares every night these past few weeks,” he pointed out, brows furrowed. It wasn’t the first time he found a sleeping English boy clinging on to his arm for dear life in the middle of the night.

Still blushing, Airi silently nodded, further asserting her previous statement that Vince, or rather Vincerella was quite awake (she was rather glad Vianna hadn't asked how Airlia had come to this conclusion).

And then Vianna was hitting Vince fiercely with a pillow while the boy cried out against his attacker and everything felt right again in the world. "Vince, you know, we know it's you under that wig, right?" Airi said, grinning amusedly.


"Ouuuuch," Ned sympathetically said, rubbing his own eyebrows as if making sure they were still in place, maybe it was a good thing that it had been Vince and not himself in there after all. Ned frowned, the aforementioned eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully over his head as his contemplated Victor's words. "I dunno.. I just keep seeing these really bizarre dreams, the same thing every night. A hooded figure, withered hands," Ned shivered, his mind assaulted by visions of the nightmare creature. "It looked like a dementor, but, different," He added, reaching into his coat pocket and bring out a flask of firewhiskey, taking a long swig.

In the distance, Ned could swear he saw an inky blackness moving closer to where the two boys were seated, and for a mad a moment, Ned thought it was the figure from his dream....

And then it sneezed pathetically and Ned knew exactly who it was. "We have a stalker," Ned whispered, nodding his head toward the inky blackness that barely hid a very annoying nerd...

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…”

Ned barely paid the scene in the mirror any mind, though watching Airlia hopelessly trying to prove how Vince wasn't a woman named Vincerella should have had the boy in stitches, he just didn't feel very amused. He gave a humorless laugh as Victor began speaking, saying that he wasn't exactly a believer in Divination, before going on to suggest he look into it. "I don't know mate... You really think it's that serious?" Ned asked, scratching his head thoughtfully.

Ned watched the exchange between MacGhilleseatheanaich and Victor with coldly amused eyes, paying especially close attention as McGit spluttered and sneezed, sounding like a broken car starting up. Of course, McLoser deserved this harsh treatment for thinking he could pull one over on the Slytherin Princes and crawl away unscathed.

Ned chuckled coldly as Victor repeated his question, but remained silent as watching Victor bully anyone was something of a treat for the blond boy, and it was doubly true when that someone was a secretly spying McGit.

"Don't lie McGit, you aren't good at it," Ned coldly said, smirking down at the nerd's small frame. Yeah right, did he really expect them to believe that he'd just been casually crawling around Hogsmeade? What an idiot. "You were spying again, admit it and maybe we won't hurt you," No promises, though.

Robert MacGhilleseatheanaich III felt a shiver run down his spine as the two Slytherin boys continued to demand an explanation, their voices dripping with thirst for murder. With great effort, the Ravenclaw nerd struggled to push himself off the dirt floor with his toothpick arms, which shook uncontrollably from the strain. With a heavy sigh, he managed to sit up on the floor. Adjusting his glasses, he got a clear view of the two pair of cold blue eyes glaring down at him. UGH, did they ALWAYS have to look so cool?! It always seemed to increase his stutter.

“O-O-Oka-okay, I-I-I w-was sp-spying… p-p-p-please do-don’t kill me,” he pleaded, bringing his hands up in supplication. Victor felt nauseous just witnessing the nerd’s new level of pathetic. Just when he thought Robert couldn’t be a bigger embarrassment to himself and the entire human population, he managed to surprise him.

“Why?” Victor leaned in closer, which caused Robert to bring his arms up in instinct; but instead of kicking the nerd in the face as Robert probably expected, Victor grabbed one of his arms and pulled him up to his shaky feet in one swift motion. It was amazing, even his sister probably had more muscle mass than the pathetic nerd. “This isn’t the first time you spy on us, MacGhilleseatheanaich — what’re you playing at?”

Robert cowered, his entire body shaking from a mix of cold and fright. The Vincenzi dementor was so close to his face he could feel his breath warming his own cold, pink cheeks. The Ravenclaw refused to meet his eyes, looking at the bushes instead as he said, “I—I—I've b-been ha--having th-the same dre--dreams as N-Ned,” he stuttered out, finally daring to look up past the Italian crushing the bones in his arm and at Ned instead.

What A bloody loser. Ned was repulsed at how quickly MacGhilleseatheanaich gave in to Nector's demands, not even attempting to put up a fight like a real man would, and he was begging. ugh, what a pathetic waste of oxygen.

How long had McGit been following them? Since they'd snuck out of the castle through the secret tunnel? Ned was angry with himself for not noticing the bespectacled twerp earlier. Ned leaned in behind Victor, eager to hear from the nerd's explanation for his creepy behavior.

Thankfully, the streets of Hogsmeade were still happily deserted and there was no one around to pay witness to the boys rough treatment of the weaker Ravenclaw, or to save him from their cruel clutches. "Oh, **** me, just what I needed! A gateway into this wankers mind!" Ned said, raising his hands to the heavens. McGit wasn't lying, Ned could tell, he could see it in the idiot's watery eyes. Why, Why in name of all that was holy and sacred, did he suddenly have some weird spiritual connection to Robert ****ing McGit? What had he done to deserve such an embarrassing fate?

"Are you doing this? Did you do something to make this happen you little twerp?" Ned asked, moving Victor aside and coldly approaching Robert, his eyes lit up with anger. He harshly poked the Ravenclaw in the chest. "How did you even know I was having these dreams? Well?"

Despite the dark of the night, the grounds seemed to glow, as they lay eerily silent under sheets of white snow, illuminated by a beautiful full moon. The night outside was serene and quiet, but inside the castle was a different story…

Elegant but lively classical music filled the Great Hall as students, professors, parents and other sponsors stood in groups, sharing laughs and smiles over glasses of white wine, champagne, and - for the more daring - firewhiskey. The Hall was a flurry of luxurious fabrics that sparkled under the dim candle lights; women kept their clutch purses tucked safely under their arm to better accommodate drinks in one hand and greetings to strangers and old friends with the other. The men, both young and old, were all uniformed in their finest black tuxedos, their hair usually gel’ed in one way or another. At least that was the case for those who still had hair.

The night was only starting and it was easy to tell from the relaxed yet excited atmosphere in the room. The dinner tables had not yet been made to appear, so guests had more wandering room as they listened to the band play and sipped on their drinks. From the professors’ table on the dais, Headmaster West watched over the scene, distractedly munching on some late-arriving croissants and sipping wine from a large golden goblet.

Mr. and Mrs. Vincenzi stood by the entrance leading to the Entrance Hall; Mrs. Vincenzi greeting some of the other parents whom she recognized from exclusive tea parties during the couple’s stays in London, while Mr. Vincenzi busied himself tasting all the different wines and judging which was best or worst (and naturally, he praised the Italian wines while cursing the French). “Oh mio amore, come here, come here!” Mrs. Vincenzi urged her husband, turning around toward him and dragging him by the arm. “Let’s go say hi to Neddy’s parents, the wine can wait.”

As always, the Alumni Gala hosted by Hogwarts was the most lavish, and elegant affair of the year, with an exclusive, but widely ranged guest list that included famous and successful former students, star athletes, foreign ministers and dignitaries and of course, the occasional rapper and/or pop star casually dropping by. The drinks were endless; the hors d’oeuvres of excellent quality, and the conversation between the excited guests was lively and full of wit.

But all Claudius Hall cared about was the fact that his IPhone had absolutely no bars in this damned castle, something his gorgeous wife Georgina was finding a little too funny. “Do you really need to be checking emails right now?” She asked, her rich voice filled with unspoken laughter as she gracefully led her husband through the throng of guests, taking time to wave here and there to friends and colleagues while her husband pointlessly shook his phone.

“I’m supposed to get service everywhere. That’s why I pay the hundred and seventy-five pounds a month,” Claudius replied, tucking his phone into his breast pocket. The bespectacled man calmed himself, raising his chin in that elegant and refined way that brought him so much distinction from other men, meanwhile his wife continued to quietly laugh at him.