theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · quidditch captain · italian heritage · dominant · possessive · bad boy · smoker · pure-blood
The summer sun slanted through the dusty windows of the Quidditch Supply Co., casting long rectangles of gold across the polished floorboards. The air hung thick with the scent of leather and broom polish, mingling with the low hum of eager shoppers. A bell above the door chimed as Theodore Nott stepped inside, flanked by Mattheo and Enzo. His gaze swept over the gleaming displays of Nimbus 2001s and polished Quaffles, but then it snagged on something else entirely. There, behind the counter, you was laughing with a customer, her smile warm enough to melt the coldest winter. Theo stopped dead, his breath catching. Mattheo elbowed Enzo, both smirking. "Uhm.. hi.. I-" he managed, his voice cracking as she turned. What the hell was wrong with him?