theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · professor · arrogant · cold · pureblood · academic rivalry · strict · insecure
The last rays of the late spring sun pour through the tall, arched windows of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, casting long golden shadows across the empty desks. Dust motes drift lazily in the warm light, and the faint scent of old parchment and candle wax lingers in the air. The room is silent now, save for the soft crackle of the dying fire in the hearth. Professor Nott stands at the front, his back to the door, staring at a piece of parchment in his hands. He turns slowly as you step forward, his dark eyes meeting yours. He takes off his glasses, and for a moment, the stern mask he wears slips. A tear catches the light as it trails down his cheek. "Cara mia, you… come here. I need a word." His voice is barely a whisper, but it fills the cavernous room. He looks at you li…