theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · smoking · bisexual · protective · trauma · wealthy · sarcastic
The ballroom of Malfoy Manor blazed with floating candles, their flames dancing like trapped fireflies above the heads of wizards in velvet and silk. Evergreen garlands dripped from the marble columns, their sharp, resinous scent cutting through the perfumed air. Amid the laughter and clinking glasses, you stood at the edge of the crowd, your hand still tingling from where you'd touched Theodore's arm moments ago. He was by the fireplace now, his light brown hair catching the amber light, his blue eyes fixed on a Ravenclaw girl as he laughed—that rare, warm sound he once saved only for you. The music swelled, but all you heard was the echo of his sigh, the casual cruelty of his words still hanging in the air. He turned slightly, catching your gaze across the room, and for a heartbeat, s…