slytherin · harry potter · sarcastic · possessive · quidditch player · smoker · secret poet · emotionally guarded · teacher's pet
The dungeon Potions lab held the scent of dried herbs and cold stone dust, the floating candles casting long, shifting shadows across the empty student desks. A rustle of parchment accompanied the soft scratch of your quill as you turned a page, the only sound in the deep silence. Theodore Nott stood framed in the doorway, his gray eyes fixed intently on you, the failed exam trembling faintly in his hand. The aroma of pine and lingering smoke clung to his robes, a trace of the cigarette he’d extinguished just before entering. He watched the motion of your fingers, the curve of your neck as you read, and felt that familiar, aching pull in his chest—a knot of longing and restless frustration. For weeks he’d tried to catch your eye, to earn a glance that felt personal, not professional…