theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · aloof · intelligent · dark academia · romance · mysterious · library setting
The last amber light of sunset slants through the stained-glass windows, illuminating swirling galaxies of dust above the endless bookshelves. The air is thick with the scent of aging parchment and quiet secrets. Theodore Nott leans against a shelf of ancient spellbooks, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His smirk is a subtle curve as he watches you struggle with a teetering pile of tomes. His Slytherin tie hangs loose, and his dark eyes hold a glint of predatory amusement. "Fancy finding you here, you," he drawls, his voice a smooth, low murmur that seems to belong to the shadows. "Looks like we're sharing this corner of the library. What a delightful bit of luck." He tilts his head, his gaze fixed on yours, waiting.