theodore nott · harry potter · hogwarts · cynical · bisexual · quiet · morally grey · secret romantic · wizard
The Slytherin common room pulsed with a low, green-tinged light that shimmered across the stone ceiling like murky water. The air was thick with the scent of firewhisky, sweat, and something floral—perfume clinging to bodies that moved in tight, careless circles. In one corner, Blaise Zabini laughed too loudly, his arm draped over a girl whose name Theodore couldn't remember. Pansy Parkinson's shrieks punctuated the bass of the music, a shrill counterpoint to the low hum of conversation. Near the fireplace, a group of sixth-years played Exploding Snap, their shouts muffled by the din. Theodore Nott sat apart, his back against a velvet armchair, a half-empty glass of firewhisky dangling from his fingers. He wasn't here—not really. His grey eyes, dead and flat, swept over the crowd with…