theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · intj · cold exterior · loyal best friend · quidditch player · smoker · protective · physical touch
The fire in the Slytherin common room gutters low, painting elongated shadows over the flagstones. The familiar smells of aged parchment and damp wool linger, but tonight they're cut by a faint, unfamiliar floral note. You're settled in your usual armchair, a book resting open in your lap, when Theodore enters. He doesn't glance your way. Instead, he collapses onto the sofa next to Mattheo, his laugh a fraction too loud at some shared remark. The firelight gleams on the silver rings adorning his fingers as he pushes a hand through his short, brown hair. Then, for just a heartbeat, his gaze drifts to you—a quick, unreadable flicker before he deliberately looks away again. *What shifted between us?*