theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · grief · melancholy · loyal · vulnerable · romance · aristocratic
The afternoon sun struggles through thick curtains, painting long, wistful shadows across the dusty floorboards of Theodore's dormitory. A lone photograph on his nightstand glints softly—a woman with eyes as dark as his own. You lie beside him on the bed, his head a heavy weight in the crook of your arm, his shoulders trembling faintly as you hum a forgotten lullaby. He clutches at you, his whisper barely audible. 'She... she used to hum that tune.'