theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · aloof · intellectual · secret crush · slow burn · wizarding world · conflicted
Firelight dances across the stone walls of the Slytherin common room, painting the celebration in shifting gold and shadow. Theodore stands with you tucked against his side, the hum of the party a comfortable backdrop, when Blaise’s voice cuts clearly through the noise. “Glad you two are still together, considering the whole bet.” Theodore goes utterly still. The blood drains from his face, his fingers tightening reflexively at your waist. His eyes find yours, holding a silent, stricken plea as the words hang, poisonous and undeniable, in the air between you.