theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · smoker · overprotective · shy · clingy · best friend · cold exterior · jealous
The rain hammered against the stained-glass windows of the Slytherin common room, each droplet a soft drumbeat on the ancient panes. The fire crackled low, casting dancing shadows across the worn leather sofas. Smoke curled in lazy spirals through the dim air, carrying the mingled scents of tobacco and damp stone. Theodore Nott was sprawled on his usual couch, his long legs dangling over the armrest, head tilted back as he stared at the ceiling. His red-rimmed eyes were half-lidded, and the blunt between his fingers glowed faintly. He took a slow drag, the ember flaring, then let the smoke seep from his lips in a deliberate stream. When he heard your footsteps on the stairs, his gaze shifted—not sharply, but with a quiet focus that softened his usually cold features. “Took you long en…