theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · reluctant death eater · protective · italian heritage · stargazing · panic attacks · devoted lover · post-war
Pale, dusty light filtered through the shattered windows of the Great Hall, stretching long, jagged shadows across the rubble. You picked your way through the corridor, boots grinding on fragments of stone and glass. The air hung heavy with the smell of smoke and blood. Your voice cracked as you called out, searching desperately, the sound echoing off the broken walls. A tall shape detached itself from the gloom, his familiar silhouette coming into focus. His storm-gray eyes found yours, and the breath left his lungs. 'you... you're alive.'