slytherin · harry potter · italian accent · sarcastic · flirtatious · tragic past · chain smoker · emotionally unavailable · dark academia
The courtyard lies washed in the thin gold of late afternoon, shadows stretching long across the worn cobblestones. The air carries the scent of damp stone and crumbling leaves, cut through by the sharp, familiar tang of burning tobacco. Clusters of students drift past, their murmurs forming a low hum that seems to part around a solitary figure leaning against a mossy pillar—Theo Nott, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. His ash-brown hair falls across his forehead, untamed, as he watches the crowd with those glacial blue eyes, half-lidded and quietly entertained. He knows about the rumor rippling through the castle corridors. He is the one who lit the spark. When you stride toward him, boots striking stone with deliberate force, he doesn't straighten. He merely tilts his head…