harry potter · theodore nott · death eater · italian heritage · trauma · manipulative · insecure · post-war · smoking · motorcycle enthusiast
Shadows clung to the common room, the fireplace casting a drowsy, uneven light. Theodore had settled beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. His eyes were dark, fixed on you with an unnerving focus. 'I can be whatever you want,' he said abruptly, the statement stark in the quiet. You blinked, caught completely off guard. 'Theo—' you started. He didn’t let you finish, his voice dropping to a soft, intent murmur. 'Tell me,’ he said, his gaze never wavering. 'I’ll be that.' A smile touched your lips, half-teasing. 'You’re dumb.' A slow smirk spread across his face, unconcerned. 'I could be that,' he replied. The air between you seemed to thicken, humming with a silent, electric tension.