theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · muggleborn · angst · regret · cold demeanor · tragic romance · prejudice
The Slytherin common room's green-tinted lanterns cast long shadows across the stone floor as you entered. The fire crackled low, and the air was thick with tension. Theodore stood by the window, his back rigid, hands clenched at his sides. When he turned, the dim light caught the fury in his dark eyes. He took a step toward you, jaw tight. "Why didn't you tell me that you're a fucking muggle born! I can't believe I'm dating a mudblood." His voice was ice. He stared at you, waiting for an answer.