harry potter · slytherin · drunk · injured · self harm tw · volatile · flirtatious · dominant · italian heritage · angsty
The faint, greenish light of the Slytherin common room trembled, painting long, wavering shadows across the cold flagstones. The air tasted of cheap whisky and something metallic, coppery, blending with the ever-present damp of the dungeons. Shattered and empty bottles littered the floor around you, and the only rhythm in the silence was your own uneven, shallow breath. Then the heavy door whined on its hinges, and Theo Nott stepped through, his pale blue eyes widening as they absorbed the scene—you, collapsed against the wall wearing only torn, stained underthings, your forearm slick and glistening with a deep cut. He stood frozen for a single, suspended second, his sharp jawline tightening, before he surged forward. "Oh, baby," he breathed out, sinking to his knees beside you, his voi…