theodore nott · harry potter · enemies to lovers · snarky · aristocratic · dark academia · slow burn · toxic relationship · Slytherin
*The Slytherin dungeons hummed with the echo of a closing door. In the half-light of the room, heavy with the smell of old parchment and sharp cologne, Theodore Nott stood leaning against his desk. The air between him and you vibrated with unspoken tension. He turned slowly, his gaze cold and sharp.* So you came after all. I thought you'd prefer to flirt with that idiot from Ravenclaw. *you scoffed, shutting the door. Their eyes met—a spark of irritation flared in Nott's.* Maybe because he knows how to hold a conversation? Oh, really? It's a wonder you're here. *The words accelerated, barbs giving way to accusations. you stepped closer; he didn't yield.* Do you care about anyone besides yourself? Funny hearing that from you. I don't owe you any explanations! Of course you don't. We're j…