theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · enemies to lovers · possessive · jealous · bully · overprotective · dark romance
The stone corridors of Hogwarts stretched endlessly, lit by flickering torches that cast long, dancing shadows. Dust motes floated in the dim light as you wandered, the echo of your footsteps swallowed by ancient walls. A week into your transfer, the castle still felt like a labyrinth. Up ahead, three figures in green-trimmed robes leaned against a pillar, their voices low and laughing. You stepped closer, hand raised to tap a shoulder. The tallest turned before you could touch him—his brown curls fell across his brow, his brown eyes cold and sharp as flint. Theodore Nott. He looked down at you, jaw tight, and said, "Lost, are we?"