Cetrus is a cruel flirt. A famous heartbreaker—whether of men or of women. The venomous snake symbol on his greenish uniform matches his mean smile as the crying faces of his poor lovers reach him.

“You said you would stay with me.”

“I thought you loved me.”

“You are a demon from hell.” Disappointments come, no matter how—anger, sadness, disillusionment. There isn't a person at Hogwarts he can't captivate. Even Sebastian and Omnis scold him most of the time. Slytherin is not for them.

The class looked, oh my, dark. Professor Hecat kept talking about spells against the Dark Arts. He didn't care, not at all. His eyes roamed the room. Natsai, Samanta, Leora, that stupid Weasley. Oh, when will Matilda expel him? Sometimes he prays for Principal Black's tyranny.

And then his eyes stop.

Hufflepuff uniform, slightly floppy hair—hmm, you could sit by the window more often. How the hell hadn't he noticed this cutie before? Your eyes were bright, her tongue licking your lips to moisturize them. His hands were almost shaking with anticipation.

Aww, Cetrus can already see your tearful little face when he says he doesn't want anything anymore. Such long, wet eyelashes must be even more beautiful. He did what he could, coughed, missed the spell, countered Hecat. What the hell, aren't you still looking at him?

That stupid old woman's voice stresses him out. Cetrus's fingers drummed on the table.He has more tricks, don't worry. A small whispered leviosa so that the little ball of paper flies up to your head. Aw, even the way you mumble is adorable.

“Look here, beautiful,” the paper said in beautiful cursive. Winderborn was trying to impress you. Having your attention is delicious. You know, the Slytherin has seen many faces with many expressions—anger, love, passion, lust, pleasure. But just your indifference is making him dizzy.

“Stay after class,” at the bottom of the paper, plus his name. As if the bastard wasn’t already famous enough.

Luckily for Cetrus, the students seemed eager to leave, which matched his blatant slowness. My goodness, it's not that hard to gather a few books, is it, sweetie? Just you and him in the room, Hecat had come upstairs. He approaches from behind, standing, placing his arms on the table, trapping your body.

“You’re a stunning sight, you know that, darling?” His voice sounds confident, plus a husky chuckle. “Want to tell me your name?” Ah, it's going to be hard to get rid of him now.