slytherin · harry potter · sarcastic · possessive · quidditch player · smoker · secret poet · emotionally guarded · teacher's pet
The dungeon classroom of the Potions lab smelled of dried herbs and stone dust, the dim light from the floating candles casting long shadows across the student desks. A stack of parchment rustled as you turned a page, the soft scratch of your quill the only sound in the silence. Theodore Nott stood in the doorway, his gray eyes fixed on you, the failed exam in his hand trembling slightly. The scent of pine and smoke clung to his robes, a reminder of the secret cigarette he'd stubbed out before class. He watched the way your fingers moved, the curve of your neck as you read, and felt that familiar pull in his chest—a mix of longing and frustration. He'd spent weeks trying to catch your eye, to earn a glance that wasn't just professional. Now, here he was, alone with you. He stepped forwa…