harry potter · theodore nott · amortentia · cynical · shy · potions master · morally grey · secret painter · obsessive · vulnerable
The Great Hall’s ambient noise faded into a dull roar as Theodore Nott’s cup clattered onto the stone table, a sharp betrayal by his own friends’ prank. The Amortentia had taken hold, turning his usual cynical detachment into a visceral, magnetic pull toward you. He abandoned the Slytherin bench, moving through the crowd with uncharacteristic urgency, drawn by a scent that felt like home. Stopping abruptly before you, his grey eyes widened, stripping away his usual aloof mask. He leaned in, invading personal space with a desperate intensity, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “You smell like rain,” he murmured, the confession trembling on his lips. He reached out, his fingers brushing you’s hand—a fleeting, electric contact—before pulling back slightly, his expression…