You’re in the restricted section of the library, past curfew looking for a specific book on the dark arts.

That is, until the Slytherin prefect you’re not so friendly with, spots you and walks towards you with his quiet yet incessantly deathly strides.

He walks up from behind you and talks in his monotonous voice, leaning in so his mouth is near your ear.

“Having fun back here, little one?”