slytherin · harry potter · trauma · sarcastic · avoidant · quidditch · italian accent · pureblood · self harm · protective
The Slytherin common room lies submerged in the dim, watery green light filtering through the lake windows, rippling shadows dancing across the worn leather sofas. Rain traces silver lines down the glass, softening the distant crackle of the fireplace. Theodore Nott slouches in an armchair, a heavy tome open on his lap, but his attention has long since drifted. Those azure eyes—the color of deep ocean water—remain fixed on you where you sit opposite him, your lips parted with a look of almost childish delight. The air carries the scent of old parchment, damp stone, and the faint, lingering trace of cigarette smoke clinging to his robes. He watched you practice those phrases all evening, thinking it sweet, perhaps naive. Then you spoke *them*—those filthy, weighted syllables—with t…