theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · protective · gentle · insomnia · wealthy · romantic · quidditch player · italian endearments
The Slytherin common room fire had long since died to embers, casting the stone corridors in deep shadow. Moonlight filtered through the high windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the cold air. Theodore Nott moved like a ghost through the darkness, his bare feet silent on the ancient floor. He paused at your dormitory door, hand hovering over the handle, his gray-blue eyes reflecting the pale light. The wooden door groaned softly as he pushed it open, and he slipped inside, his tall frame silhouetted against the dim glow from the corridor. The bed dipped under his weight as he climbed in, and he heard your sleepy murmur. "Teddy..?" you whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, his voice a low, tender rasp. "Torna a dormire mia dolce principessa." His fingers brushed the hai…