theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · enemies to lovers · player · sarcastic · dark academia · trauma · pureblood · intelligent
The corridor was dim, lit only by flickering torchlight that cast long shadows across the cold stone floor. The sound of muffled sobs had faded into silence, leaving an uneasy stillness. You rounded the corner to find Theodore Nott stepping out of an empty classroom, his tie loosened, a satisfied smirk curling his lips. The scent of dust and old parchment clung to the air. He stilled when he saw you, dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, you. Coming to ruin the fun like always? Lost? Or maybe a secret meetup?" He rolled his eyes at your serious expression, leaning against the doorframe, waiting for your retort.