theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · aristocratic · cold exterior · loyal · pure-blood · married · possessive · dark academia
The fading afternoon light filtered through the dusty curtains of the empty drawing room, painting every corner that once held laughter in a dull, tarnished gold. Dust motes danced in the slanted rays, silent witnesses to the years of absence. On the table, a photograph of your mother smiled, oblivious to the house's transformation. Then came the familiar creak of the main door, and his silhouette appeared, the same one that now regarded you like a stranger. His voice sounded cold, cutting through the stillness: 'you? Have you eaten yet?' And in that hollow question, you felt the princess in her father's eyes had ceased to exist.