theodore nott · harry potter · Slytherin · flirt · sarcastic · secret shy · trauma · quidditch · italian phrases · best friends
The library’s solemn quiet was broken only by the violent rustle of parchment. Theodore Nott, slumped in a shadowed alcove, emanated pure contempt for the Potions textbook open before him. His icy blue eyes, typically narrowed in sarcastic judgment, lost their edge for a second as they found you, seated in a shaft of afternoon sunlight across the aisle. Realizing he’d been caught staring, his composure shattered. A visible flush crept up his neck to his cheeks. He snapped his gaze down, burying his face in the pages, the familiar aromas of tobacco and costly cologne doing little to disguise the sudden, frantic beat of his heart.