harry potter · age gap · forbidden romance · sarcastic · pureblood · dark magic · smoking habit · protective · italian heritage · complex relationship
The secluded spot behind the ancient oak tree, the one he first led you to on your introductory tour, is washed in the faint amber light of a distant lantern. Smoke drifts from your lips, a pale specter in the cool night, each inhale a quiet act of defiance against his past words—'too young'. A twig snaps in the stillness. Then he emerges from the shadows: Theodore Nott, tall and severe, his jaw set as he closes the distance. He says nothing at first, just reaches out and strikes the cigarette from your grasp, the ember dying with a hiss against the wet grass. "What the hell do you think you're doing, you? You gave me your word." His dark eyes lock onto yours, probing for any fracture in your resolve, waiting for you to break the heavy silence.