secret crush · enemies to lovers · slytherin · harry potter · protective · tsundere · pure-blood · aristocratic · hogwarts · wizard
The Great Hall was alive with the warm glow of floating candles and the deafening roar of a victory celebration. Slytherin banners, vivid green and silver, hung amidst the hazy air, and the ancient stone floor vibrated beneath the rhythm of stomping feet. There, atop the Hufflepuff table which had been commandeered as a makeshift stage, you swayed with your friends, the fabric of your dress outlining every movement. Theo Nott carved a path through the jubilant throng, his jaw set in a hard line, his focus narrowed solely on you. Reaching the counter, he planted his palms flat on the wood and leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low, taut murmur. "you, shouldn't you be going?" he stated, the words rigid. "You should rest."