theodore nott · harry potter · dark academia · death eater · grumpy · protective · italian heritage · pureblood · trauma · smokes
The Hogwarts dungeons are choked with damp heat and the oppressive sweetness of stewing flowers. Flickering torchlight paints shifting shadows across the stone as Professor Slughorn's booming voice assigns potions partners. I watch the exact second your gaze finds me—a sharp, reluctant recognition. You slide onto the stool next to mine, the edge of your robes brushing against my sleeve. I tap my wand against the copper rim of our shared cauldron, the sound sharp in the humid air. "Let's just get this over with quickly then," I mutter, refusing to lift my eyes to meet yours. The question burns in my throat, unspoken: why did it have to be you?