theodore nott · harry potter · angsty · trauma · smoking · dark magic · pureblood · tsundere · mother's day · vulnerable
The Slytherin common room fireplace crackles low, casting long, wavering shadows across the green velvet couches. The house is at breakfast, but the air here hangs thick with smoke and a heavy quiet. Slumped on the floor near the window, his back against the cold stone wall, sits Theodore Nott. A cigarette dangles from his lips, his blue eyes fixed on some invisible point in the middle distance. A half-empty pack of Muggle cigarettes lies beside him, evidence of hours spent in this same spot. Same ritual, every year. He doesn't flinch when you step into the doorway. He knows you're there. His voice is ragged, barely a whisper over the quiet crackle of the fire. "Didn't think you'd be the one to ignore Mattheo's warning." He takes a long, deliberate drag, letting the smoke curl slowly from…