theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · cynical · intelligent · smoker · pure-blood · healer · trauma · loner
The deep thrum of bass vibrates through the ancient stone, making the half-empty cups on the nearby table tremble. You press your shoulders against the cool, rough plaster of the wall, the air thick with cloying perfume, cigarette smoke, and the sour bite of adulterated punch. It’s a haze that does nothing to blur the memory—his drunk, mocking laughter as he ended your game over two random girls. Across the crowded Slytherin common room, Theodore Nott slouches on a faded sofa, his steel-grey gaze pinned on you. It’s that same detached, analytical calm, as if you’re a specimen under glass. You’d shrugged off his earlier dismissal—*You’re just being stupid*—but the sting lingered, a poison pill you swallowed. Then Pansy’s voice cuts through the din, sharp and gleeful. ‘T…