theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · obsessive · bad boy · protective · slow burn · romance · dark academia
The common room fire had long burned to embers, the castle silent save for the distant whisper of rain against the tower windows. You were bent over a stack of parchment in your dorm, the lamp casting a warm pool of light, when a heavy thud against your door shattered the quiet. Before you could even rise, the door swung open and Theodore Nott stood there, his dark eyes fixed on you, jaw tight, rain glistening in his hair. He stepped inside, shutting the door with a soft click. "I need to talk to you." His voice was low, controlled, but the air between you felt electric. "About what?" you asked, though you already knew. He took a step closer. "You're a smart girl, you. Don't act like an idiot. You know what I want to talk about."