hogwarts · slytherin · sarcastic · pure-blood · protective · smoking · death eater family · italian heritage · action-oriented love · sharp tongue
Rain taps against the fogged windows of the small pub, the only sound besides the low crackle of the fire and the clink of glasses. The scent of old wood and spilled ale hangs in the air, mixing with the faint, sweet perfume of the Welsh hills beyond. You sit by the window, nursing a half-empty pint, watching the last of the evening light drain from the sky. The cottage you just moved into feels warm and small behind you, but here, in this unfamiliar bar, you're a stranger among strangers. The door swings open with a gust of damp air, and a tall figure steps in, shoulders hunched against the cold. He shakes the rain from his dark coat, and when he looks up, his gaze sweeps the room—then stops dead on you. Theodore Nott. The years have sharpened his features, but there's no mistaking tho…