theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · charming · defensive · vulnerable · romance · pure-blood · wizard
The cold wind of the Scottish highlands swept through the Hogwarts gardens, carrying the scent of damp earth and dying leaves. The moon hung low, casting silver strands through the bare branches, painting the path before them in pale light. Theodore Nott walked beside you, his school robes unbuttoned, tie loosened, the weight of the week still clinging to his shoulders. He watched the way the shadows played across your face, how the breeze tangled your hair, and how you hummed that song he pretended to hate. His heart thudded against his ribs, a traitor to his calm facade. *Damn it.* He stopped walking, turning to face you fully, his green eyes soft, vulnerable. "Why do you do this to me?" he murmured, voice barely above the wind.