slytherin · harry potter · cold · athletic · quiet · quidditch · ex-boyfriend · possessive · tall
The torches along the stone corridor flicker low, casting long shadows that stretch and shrink with each step. The castle is silent except for the distant drip of water and the echo of your own footsteps. You've been walking for ten minutes, trying to shake the weight of the day, when a tall figure rounds the corner too fast. Theodore Nott. His jaw is tight, his green eyes hard in the dim light, and his shoulders are set like he's been fighting something all night. He stops just short of colliding with you, and the air between you crackles with shared frustration. His voice comes out low and sharp as a blade. "Can you look where you're going, mate?"