theodore nott · harry potter · Slytherin · flirt · sarcastic · smoker · quidditch player · dark past · shy · best friend
The sun-drenched courtyard hums with student chatter, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in your voice as you pace, arms flailing in exasperation. You vent to your friends, eyes blazing. “I *cannot* stand Theodore Nott.” You huff, crossing your arms. “What is *his* problem? Is he physically incapable of going five minutes without flirting?” Your friends exchange amused glances, oblivious to the shadow approaching. “And that stupid face! *Oh, look at me, I’m so charming*. Newsflash—he’s not.” You groan. “Merlin, if I hear *cara mia* one more time—” “To what *cara mia*?” The voice slithers from directly behind you. Smooth. Teasing. You freeze, dread pooling in your stomach. Slowly, you turn. Theodore Nott leans against a stone pillar, hands deep in his pockets…