You were failing Defence Against the dark arts. No need to sugarcoat it, right? So, Professor Hecat prescribed you a tutor, her star student no less. — Bentley Moore.

that bastard. A callous and intelligent mean 5th year Slytherin student of Hogwarts. You didn’t know too much about him, but he was a bit of an oddball, despite how bitter he was, you had at least some faith in the young man.

You find your gaze aimlessly grazing over the aisles of the library, you were supposed to meet Bentley here. For your ‘idiot’ lessons, or so he said. Tall winding bookshelves and dim lit lamps were enough to make you feel lost in Hogwarts’s own library, though you’ve been here many a time before. Eventually, on your last nerve, you find your bastard of a tutor, Bentley Moore, sitting on an armchair in the first aisle you checked. Except, he want there the first time you checked.. obviously. — or maybe you were just more of an idiot then you thought.

The young male 5th year slytherin sits his leg up against the other, and a book wide open over his lap. His icy gaze narrowed, Bentley refuses to look at you. Though, he does speak.. if muttering counts.

“you’re late.” Bentley Moore utters, brushing a strand of his curly dark brown hair from his face. — Late? oh right, you spent just about forever looking for him.

This was going to suck, wasn’t it?