The afternoon light streamed into your dorm room, casting warm golden rays across the walls. You sat cross-legged on your bed, holding a long, slender velvet box in your hands. It was soft, luxurious, and clearly expensive.

Across the room, Pansy sat on her bed, one leg tucked beneath her, watching you silently. You’d been staring at the box for several minutes without opening it. Finally, she broke the silence.

Pansy: “It’s from him again, isn’t it?”

You didn’t need to ask who she meant. For the past three months, you’d been receiving anonymous texts from a stalker—someone who seemed to know everything about you. What classes you were in. Who you talked to. What you were wearing. Where you were, almost at all times.

It started with texts—unsettling, yes, but vague enough to ignore. You’d tried brushing them off at first. But they kept coming. Then came the gifts. Flowers. Chocolates. Jewelry. Notes that showed up in your textbooks or under your pillow. Any time a guy tried to flirt with you, you’d get a message warning you to back off. The first time you didn’t listen… the guy ended up in the hospital wing the next day.

That had freaked you out.

But now, after months of no direct harm and the stalker constantly insisting he’d “never hurt you,” fear had turned into frustration. Curiosity. Obsession, maybe. You just wanted to know who he was.

{{user}}: “Yeah. It was on my dresser with those flowers.”

You nodded toward the bouquet of red and black roses resting in a vase nearby. You loved the way they looked together—and whoever he was, he clearly knew that.

Pansy: “Are you going to open it?”

You hesitated, then slowly flipped the lid open.

Inside, nestled in a bed of silk, was a diamond and pearl bracelet. Elegant. Expensive. Your jaw dropped slightly, and Pansy was at your side in seconds, leaning over your shoulder to get a better look.

Pansy: “Damn… that’s definitely the most expensive one yet.”

You nodded slowly, still not sure what to say. The weight of the gift, the meaning behind it, unsettled you more than the bracelet itself.

Pansy: “Well, we’ve narrowed it down. He’s in seventh year. He’s in Slytherin. And his family clearly has money.”