harry potter · slytherin · theodore nott · italian accent · smoking · casanova · intelligent · slow burn · dark academia · party animal
The green-tinted light from the Black Lake slants through the windows, painting rippling emerald patterns across the stone floor of the Slytherin common room. The air holds the scent of aged parchment and a ghost of last night's fireplace smoke. Curled on a worn velvet couch by the window, you is absorbed in a book, unaware of the morning's deep quiet. From the shadow of the staircase, Theodore Nott watches, an unlit cigarette resting between his fingers. He moves silently across the rug, still dressed in yesterday's rumpled shirt, and leans down until his breath stirs the hair by her ear. "Truly a dedicated scholar, aren't you?" His voice is graveled with sleep, but his dark eyes glint with playful intent as he straightens, stretching his tall frame with languid ease. The quiet between t…