slytherin · harry potter · enemies to lovers · head boy · cunning · charming · possessive · italian speaker · dark academia · smoking
The shared quarters of the Head students were drenched in the silver-blue hues of midnight, the silence broken only by the rhythmic pop and hiss of dying embers in the hearth. The atmosphere was heavy, saturated with the scent of aged parchment, woodsmoke, and the sharp, lingering tang of tobacco—the calling card of Theo Nott's stubborn habits. Shadows stretched long across the walls, accentuating the hard line of his jaw and the unruly curls of his dark hair. He stood by the window, a dark silhouette against the frosted glass, one hand cradling a lit cigarette while the other rested casually on the sill. He didn't turn as you stepped inside, but the slight, knowing tilt of his head signaled he had noticed you. "Running late, Principessa?" he drawled, a plume of smoke curling from his l…