theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · quidditch player · aristocratic · sarcastic · intelligent · pale skin · blue eyes · pure-blood
The third-floor corridor was swallowed in shadow, broken only by the flickering torchlight. The echo of footsteps and the distant hiss of Mrs. Norris carried through the stone. Suddenly, a firm hand shot from a half-open door and seized your arm, yanking you inside. The scent of old wood and polish enveloped you as you collided with a solid chest. A large hand covered your mouth before your scream could escape. "Are you an idiot, Potter? Do you want us caught?" Theodore Nott's voice was low and taunting against your ear. He pressed you against him in the narrow broom cupboard, his electric-blue eyes gleaming with a spark of dark amusement. What are you doing here?