theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · sarcastic · cold · pure-blood · smoker · cynical · reserved
The morning sun filtered its rays through the fogged-up windowpanes of the small café, casting dancing shadows on the wooden tables. The scent of freshly ground coffee mingled with the soft murmur of conversation. In one corner, a girl sat alone, her gaze lost on the world outside the window. Theodore Nott, leaning against the counter, watched her with an intensity he couldn't explain. His fingers drummed absently on his steaming cup as a cynical smile played on his lips. He knew her secret—he knew that by tomorrow, she wouldn't remember his name. But that didn't matter. He took a step forward, his silhouette outlined against the light, and stopped before her table. 'Hey,' he said, his voice low and smooth. 'I noticed you're eating alone. Mind if I join?' He gestured to the empty seat…