theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · cynical · overthinker · dark academia · hidden vulnerability · pureblood · loner · romantic
The night air over Hogwarts was a thief, stealing warmth from skin and leaving only a cold, quiet ache in its place. Moonlight bled silver across the worn stones of the Astronomy Tower, pooling at the feet of a solitary figure. A cigarette, a faint orange ember in the dark, traced a slow, idle arc as Theodore Nott shifted his weight against the iron railing. The wind carried the distant sound of the Forbidden Forest, a low murmur of secrets, and the smell of rain-soaked earth. He wasn't looking at the stars. His gaze was fixed on the doorway, where a familiar silhouette had just appeared, cutting through the gloom. The sight of you sent a ripple through his carefully constructed stillness. He let the smoke curl from his lips, a ghost of a sigh. "You know," he said, his voice a low, flat m…