theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · lazy · aristocratic · intelligent · cold · british wizard
Firelight, low and flickering, paints shifting shapes across the stone walls of the Slytherin dormitory. You shift against the silk sheets, your head a comfortable weight on Theo's bare chest. His fingers draw absent-minded circles through your hair, his gaze fixed somewhere on the shadowed ceiling above. "Your brother is going to kill me," he murmurs, the words so quiet they almost dissolve into the crackle of the hearth. What happens when the dawn finally breaks, you?