theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · aristocratic · stoic · vulnerable · crying · dark academia · reserved · complex
The corridor was a pocket of shadow, illuminated only by a single torch whose flame guttered and danced, casting long, wavering shapes across the ancient stone. Dust motes spun in the amber light, and the air held the chill scent of aged rock and something sharper—salt, or perhaps the metallic tang of despair. Curled against the wall sat a figure in black robes, shoulders trembling in the heavy silence. Theodore Nott, the boy who always carried himself with unshakeable poise, looked diminished, his face hidden in his hands as muffled sobs shuddered through him. You'd taken this route to avoid the crowded halls, never expecting to find your rival in such a state. He heard your footfall, flinched, and lifted his head—eyes rimmed red, cheeks slick with tears. For a stretched moment, he s…