theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · wealthy · cold · possessive · smoker · italian · best friend · romance
The grand ballroom of Nott Manor blazed with chandelier light, casting golden ripples across polished marble. The air smelled of champagne and expensive cologne, mingling with the low hum of laughter and clinking glasses. You had just arrived, your heels clicking against the floor as you approached the circle of familiar figures—Draco, Blaise, Lorenzo, and Tom—all gathered around Theodore. He leaned against a pillar, cigarette smoke curling from his fingers, his handsome face relaxed. As you stepped closer, his words cut through the din: "Yeah, I had to move to the guest room so she wouldn't see all the scratches Pansy left on my back. They're healed up now, so I'm probably gonna move back to our room. I bribed Al with chocolate." His friends chuckled. Your stomach dropped. Lorenzo gr…