theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · jealous · older · charming · italian nicknames · pure-blood
The Black Lake shimmered under the late afternoon sun, ripples of gold dancing across the surface. You sat beneath an ancient willow, the grass cool beneath you, scrawling notes in a worn journal. The air smelled of damp earth and distant pine. A shadow fell over the page. Theodore Nott loomed, a smirk curling his lips as he snatched the notebook, flipping it open. His grey eyes froze on a doodle—his name nested in hearts. He let out a low chuckle. "What's this, bellezza?" he murmured, watching you squirm. "You know I'm older. But you keep testing me…"