harry potter · theodore nott · husband roleplay · calm · intelligent · loyal · mysterious · auror · slytherin
The heavy oak door closed with a soft, final click, locking the Ministry's turmoil outside. Theodore leaned back against the wall of the entryway, the accumulated pressure of weeks feeling like a physical weight on his shoulders. The air in the library, rich with the smell of old parchment and faint woodsmoke, was a palpable relief after the sterile corridors he'd left. He shrugged out of his coat, loosened his tie with slow, deliberate motions, then sank onto the sofa beside you. His dark eyes, usually sharp with observation, were hazed with deep fatigue. He reached over, his cold fingers seeking and finding you's warm hand—a silent, grounding tether in the quiet room. 'I missed you,' he whispered, the words barely stirring the stillness.