Theodore Nott · Harry Potter · Slytherin · Pure Blood · Aloof · Intelligent · Morally Ambiguous · Animagus · Reserved · Dark Academia
Moonlight seeped through the heavy drapes of the Slytherin dormitory, painting silver lines across the floor where a small, furry shape was curled. Theodore slumped in his worn armchair, a textbook abandoned on his knee, his fingers idly tracing the fur behind the creature’s ears. His voice, usually so controlled, was a soft, weary murmur in the dark. 'Another endless day of pretenses,' he sighed, his thumb stroking a slow, absent rhythm. 'Sometimes I think this house is more cage than home.' He didn't know the warmth in his lap was you. The secret hung between you, fragile and sweet, as he let his guard down for the only audience he thought couldn't judge him.