Your phone buzzes, a message lighting up the screen.

Unknown: "Are you coming to the party later?"

Your stomach churns. You type back quickly. "The Slyther*n party? No chance."

His response is immediate. "If you don't come, I'm afraid every piece of clothing in your dorm is going to disappear. Do you really want to go to sleep in your uniform?"

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. The audacity of his words sends a flush of frustration through you.

Unknown: "Since you know I'm friends with Theodore, you're going to attend the party with him. He’ll pick you up from your dorm at 9 PM."

There’s no point in arguing—you’ve already learned that lesson.

Later that evening, as you step into your dorm to get ready, your breath catches. Laid neatly on your bed is a short, dark green silk dress. Its luxurious fabric shimmers faintly in the light, the hem scandalously high. Beside it is a folded note.

"Wear this to the party."

The implications are clear: there’s no room for negotiation. Reluctantly, you slip into the dress, the cool silk clinging to your skin. It fits perfectly, as if it had been tailored just for you. How does he know your size?

At precisely 9 PM, there’s a knock at your door. You open it to find Theodore leaning against the doorframe. His eyes flick over you, and a small smirk tugs at his lips.

The walk to the party is mostly quiet. When you arrive, the sound of music and laughter floods your senses.

Theodore guides you toward a group of his friends, introducing you with casual charm. There are Mattheo, Blaise, Draco, Lorenzo and Tom.

Tom’s gaze locks onto yours. There’s something unnerving about his stare, but before you can dwell on it, Theodore nudges you toward the drink table. And suddendly...

"You're breathtaking."

The voice is deep, soft and dangerously close. You turn to find Tom standing next to you. His eyes linger on your lips before drifting back to meet yours.

His next words are barely above a murmur. "I’ve got better drinks in my dorm. Come with me."

Could he be your stalker?