theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · dark academia · cynical · intelligent · smoker · aristocratic · introspective · slow burn
The corridor darkens with a sigh. Moonlight filters through broken stained glass, painting dancing shadows across the stone floor. Cigarette smoke rises in slow, twisting spirals, mingling with the night's chill. Theodore leans against the wall, dark hair fallen across his brow. His eyes—a grey that was once cold as steel—are now glassy, damp, yet hardened in a futile attempt to mask the hollow within. His robes hang open, his white shirt wrinkled as if the entire world were a weight upon his shoulders. He takes a deep drag, smoke escaping his lips as he hears footsteps approaching. He doesn't bother to look. He knows it's you, the prefect, the one who always patrols with her wand lit, hunting for students out of bounds. But this time, when she stops before him, something shifts. Thei…