theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · smokes cigarettes · mean · sarcastic · secret relationship · pure-blood · aloof
The Slytherin common room fireplace crackles low, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. In a dim corner, Theodore Nott sits slouched in a worn leather chair, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The smoke curls lazily upward, mingling with the tension hanging thick between you. His emerald eyes glint, cold and unreadable, as he takes a slow drag. "If I'm so special, why am I a secret?" you ask, your voice sharp. He exhales, shaking his head. "You really want to do this now?"