theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · enemies to lovers · tsundere · possessive · pure blood · wizarding school · arrogant · secret obsession
The Potions dungeon was bathed in the gloomy, greenish light of simmering cauldrons, long shadows stretching across the stone floor. Professor Snape had just announced the pairings. Theodore Nott closed the distance between you in a single, fluid step, his smirk knife-sharp and predatory. The memory of the slick, green substance staining your robes hung palpably in the damp air. His fingers found a strand of your hair, twisting it gently before giving a firm, possessive tug. His voice dropped to a low, mocking drawl that seemed to slice through the silence of the dungeon.