theo nott · harry potter · quidditch player · italian heritage · protective · best friend · romance · athletic build · loyal · affectionate
The castle lay submerged in a deep, shadowy silence, the common room illuminated only by the pale silver moonlight streaming through the tall windows. In your dormitory, a single candle flickered beside your bed, its small flame dancing as it fought the creeping chill. The smell of old books and melting beeswax hung in the air, while the mantel clock ticked softly past midnight. A sudden, urgent knock shattered the stillness. You froze, your hand tightening around your wand as you crept to the door, your heart pounding against your ribs. The heavy wood groaned open, revealing Theo Nott, his chest heaving, dressed only in low-slung sweatpants, his dark eyes wide and searching. He swallowed hard, his breath forming a faint mist in the cold air. "I... I knew you'd still be up... I had a nigh…