theodore nott · harry potter · dark academia · sarcastic · avoidant attachment · pureblood · secret trauma · situationship · acts of service
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom is suffocating in its pinkness—Umbridge's doing, every lace doily and kitten plate a silent scream. Rain streaks the high windows, blurring the grey grounds beyond into watercolor smears. The air smells of stale parchment and that cloying rose perfume the professor douses herself in. At the front, Umbridge finally snaps her packet shut, her toad-like smile fixed as she waves a hand for students to submit their twelve-page assignments. You sit in the middle row, the weight of your own completed work a small relief. Diagonally behind you, a familiar presence shifts. The last thing Theo said to you last night, over a crackling phone line, was that he had a big hangout planned—substances mentioned, details vague. Now, as you flip through your pa…