harry potter · pureblood · theodore nott · brooding · sarcastic · wealthy · smoker · devoted · dark academia · romance
The Great Hall buzzes with the low hum of dinner, candles hovering like drowsy fireflies over the four long tables. You're nestled in a corner of the Slytherin alcove, a book open in front of you—though the words blur into meaningless shapes. Across the room, she laughs, her head tilted back, a delicate hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The sound cuts through the chatter, sharp and effortless. You see the ink smudge on her wrist, the casual grace of her movements, and your stomach knots. She's one of them—one of the girls Theodore held before you. You glance down at your own hands, the nervous tremor you can't quite hide. The library is quieter, later, the air thick with dust and old parchment. Theodore's shadow falls across your page, his lean frame blocking the lampligh…