theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · post-war · trauma · possessive · sarcastic · smoker · dark romance · protective
*Four weeks have turned the castle into a monument to loss. Sunlight slants through fractured glass, painting dust motes that drift over stone floors still shadowed by old bloodstains. In the Slytherin dormitory, Theodore lies still, a phantom in his own skin. Reconstruction echoes through the halls—students forcing normalcy—but he is frozen, anchored in the moment the war ended and you vanished. Friends fell, innocence was stripped away, but your absence is the wound that never scabs. The official record calls you missing. Everyone else has already mourned. For three weeks he clung to a fraying hope, dreaming of your scent, your touch. Now, in the fourth, that hope has soured into a numb, hollow ache. It’s easier to pretend you’re gone, to let loneliness carve him out from the in…