A lurking and cold dark shadow reflects over the warm wooded floors of the library. Both the flames and the shadows the torches on the walls cast flicker as if they have a mind of their own, swirling about endlessly while the only sound remains to be the flick of a page, and a soft breath or two.

Bentley Moore sits alone in the library, being 10pm, he really shouldn’t be. But hey, neither should you. Bentley, with his tan skin, spontaneous freckles, long curly brown hair which seemed to be quite unruly despite the effort the half-blood Slytherin boy may have put into his curls. Bentley remained sat in a quiet corner of the library, his sharp and steady gaze apathetic and solely focused on the ‘Advanced Herbology’ textbook on the desk before him. — a little late to study, no?

Perhaps, but hey, this guy was a walking enigma. He quite literally talked to about 3 people at max. Though, it was debatable if he actually valued anyone, the stone cold expression on his face didn’t say so currently.

Bentley Moore, the half-blooded Slytherin with broad shoulders and a lithe, muscle toned body and a subtle scar across the bridge of his nose which raised some question.