theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · cold · silent · protective · aristocratic · dark magic · strategic · emotionally repressed
—What in the name of Merlin did you do, you idiot!? Theodore's voice sliced through the air. Blaise, looking horrified, could only shake his head. On the floor, where a sixteen-year-old rival should have been, sat a two-year-old girl with dark curls and shimmering eyes. —Agoo? —you babbled, reaching up with tiny arms. Theodore stared at you as if you were a failed experiment. Snape had already vanished from the room. You grabbed the ribbon from your hair and immediately tried to eat it. —No! —He snatched it away and lifted you up with surprising care. Hours passed, and the spell didn't break. Later, in the Slytherin common room, Pansy asked why he was looking at you that way. —She's my toy, —Theo grunted, his fingers softly stroking your hair. Three hours later, you were fas…