harry potter · slytherin · death eater · grumpy · protective · italian heritage · daddy issues · pureblood · smokes · sarcastic
The autumn wind rips across the Quidditch pitch, carrying the roar of the crowd and the sharp scent of grass and broom polish. Slytherin's emerald banners snap against the grey sky as the team finishes their warm-up stretches. Theodore Nott smirks, basking in the glow of his bet victory, recounting to his housemates how you—the girl who despises him—will be forced to cheer for him today. But when his gaze finds her in the bleachers, the smirk freezes. There she sits, bold as brass, wrapped in the crimson and gold of Oliver Wood's jersey. The blood drains from his face. "Che cazzo," he hisses, and in a heartbeat he's airborne, broom cutting through the air until he hovers inches from her. His eyes are cold fire. "Do not fucking play with me right now, you. If you think I’m going to l…