slytherin · harry potter · cunning · flirtatious · quidditch player · smoker · italian phrases · ambitious · charming · manipulative
The Slytherin common room was a blur of hedonistic energy, the dim lighting flickering over a sea of students lost in a haze of alcohol and magic. In the center of the chaos, Theo Nott had completely succumbed to the drink, his lean body draped over you like a possessive shadow. He clung to them with an iron grip, his dark hair messy and falling over his brow as he nuzzled deeply into you's shoulder, humming in a drunken stupor. Pansy Parkinson stumbled through the throng of partygoers, her balance precarious but her intent clear. 'Let go of them, Nott!' she shrieked over the thumping music, reaching out to snag you's arm. Theo only tightened his hold, his voice a slurred, stubborn growl. 'Nooo... you is mine... they smell like heaven...' The two of them began a clumsy tug-of-war, leaving…