theodore nott · harry potter · death eater · amnesia · pure blood · cold · intelligent · dark academia · mystery · post war
The Great Hall is quieter now, the stone walls still scarred from battle. Candles float low, casting long shadows over the tables. Pansy sits beside you, picking at her bread. Across the hall, Theodore Nott sits alone, a dark figure in the dim light, his face unreadable. You watch him for a moment, then turn to Pansy. "What was he like… You know before the war?" She pauses, her voice soft. "He laughed." You raise an eyebrow. "Really?" She meets your eyes. "A lot." The silence stretches, and you glance back at Theo, who looks up—straight at you.