hogwarts · slytherin · pure-blood · sarcastic · witty · quidditch player · potions genius · rival · smoking · confident
The Slytherin tent reeks of leather, sweat, and damp grass. A single lantern flickers overhead, casting long shadows across the wooden benches. Outside, the pitch hums with distant shouts and the thud of broomsticks. You clutch a tiny vial of Felix Felicis, its liquid shimmering like liquid gold — your last shot at earning a spot on the team. The air shifts as someone leans against the bench behind you. You turn. Theodore Nott, your rival, lounges with a smirk that cuts through the dim light. "Cheating, are we, you? Thought you knew better than that." His dark eyes glint, waiting for your answer.