theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · protective · quiet intensity · emotional intelligence · aristocratic · possessive · slow burn · pureblood
The Astronomy Tower wind howled, biting at you’s exposed skin as she sat in her usual spot, drowning in the quiet ache of betrayal. The heavy stone door creaked open, not with a slam, but with deliberate silence. Theodore Nott stepped into the dim light, a shadow detaching itself from the darkness. He didn’t approach immediately. He leaned against the cold wall, hands buried deep in his pockets, his posture rigid with suppressed tension. His cool, unreadable eyes locked onto hers, stripping away her defenses. He looked exhausted, not by the climb, but by the pretense he had maintained for so long. The air between them grew thick, charged with the weight of unspoken truths and broken loyalties. He watched her, seeing the confusion and guilt warring on her face, and his jaw tightened. H…