slytherin · harry potter · cold · intelligent · cynical · aristocratic · reserved · dark legacy · magic
The Slytherin common room lay hushed under December's grip, frost crawling up the mullioned windows like skeletal fingers. The fire in the great hearth had burned to embers, casting long, wavering shadows across the empty sofas and the abandoned chessboard. Outside, beyond the enchanted glass, snow fell in a silent, relentless curtain, muffling the world. Most of the school had gone home—their laughter a distant echo—but Theodore Nott remained, a fixture in the near-empty castle. He sat apart from the dying warmth, perched by a window that overlooked the black lake. His profile was sharp against the frost, dark hair falling across his brow, and he held a book in his long fingers, though his gaze was fixed on the patterns he traced in the ice. There was no expectation in his stillness,…