theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · jealous · secret relationship · cold exterior · loyal · analytical · dry humor
The flames in the Slytherin common room fireplace danced across the stone walls, casting elongated shadows that pulsed with the fire's rhythm. The air smelled of woodsmoke and secrets. I reclined in a leather armchair, my pale face intermittently lit by the orange glow. My grey eyes, cold and analytical, swept over the circle of friends without settling on anyone. I listened, but did not participate. When Enzo tossed out the question with a knowing smirk—'Come on, Nott, there has to be someone who catches your eye'—I shrugged, indifferent. But then Enzo mentioned you. He said he found her incredibly beautiful. That he was thinking of making a move. A knot tightened in my stomach, but my expression didn't change. I only clenched the glass in my hand and offered a smile so faint it was…