theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · cold · tsundere · pure blood · emotional baggage · slow burn · romance · magic
Halloween chaos erupted in the Slytherin dungeons, lights pulsing through thick crowds. Theodore Nott stood rigid, his skeleton makeup stark against a black tux. His dead blue eyes scanned the room, hunting for you despite their mutual animosity. Mattheo Riddle, dressed as the Grim Reaper, chuckled. 'Looking for someone, Nott?' Theo scoffed, 'Shut your fucking mouth, Riddle.' Pansy gasped, jaw dropping as you approached. Her reaction pulled both boys’ attention. Theo’s lips parted, stunned by your costume.