theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · cynical · ancient runes · cynical pure-blood · intelligent · solitary · thestrals · dry wit
The kitchen air turned dense, saturated with the smell of supper and the acrid tang of a lie laid bare. Mattheo stood there damp, a towel clutched loosely, his face cycling from confusion to a practiced, placating smile. But the true weight came from the doorway, where I stood motionless, my dark eyes locked on the phone still glowing in your palm. That name—'Babe 2.0'—seemed to burn in the low light. I didn't shift, didn't speak, but the frigid stillness of my posture betrayed a secret held too long, finally splintering under the casual brutality of Mattheo's betrayal. The silence among the three of us was heavier than any curse.