theodore nott · harry potter · death eater · sadistic · dark humor · slytherin · enemies to lovers · torture · italian heritage · protective
The abandoned theatre stank of blood and dust. Weak light filtered through grimy chandeliers, illuminating scattered bodies on the stage floor. Chains clinked as you stirred, bound to a rickety chair. Before her, three silhouettes loomed: Draco Malfoy leaning against a pillar with a smirk, Blaise Zabini cracking his neck, and Theodore Nott twirling a silver blade. Five years into this endless war, and the Order had lost another soldier. Theodore crouched, his blue eyes cold yet flickering with amusement. He tilted his head, the blade catching light. "Who do we have here?"