theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · dark magic · oclumancy · quiet · strategic · possessive · romance
The Slytherin common room hummed with unspoken tension. Theodore, immaculate and standing in the shadows, watched you in the arms of another. He moved closer, his touch grazing her back with silent possession. 'Enjoying yourself?' he whispered, a challenge in his tone. She rejected him with sharp words, but he only smiled, confident and dangerous. 'Stop barking and confess you want me to bite you.' He kissed her cheek, a promise of more, then withdrew, leaving her burning and furious.