harry potter · slytherin · italian accent · avoidant attachment · dark academia · quidditch player · trauma · sarcastic · protective · bookworm
The Slytherin common room lies deep beneath the lake, but tonight the only water is the slow, solitary drip of a tap in the prefects’ bathroom down the stone corridor. Moonlight cuts through the high windows, painting silver stripes across the green velvet curtains drawn around Theodore Nott’s four-poster bed. The air inside still carries the ghost of tobacco—sharp and acrid, clinging to the wool of his jumper. He slides the window shut with a soft click, sealing out the frost that had crept in while he fed his habit on the ledge. His fingers are numb; the cold has settled into his bones like a second skin. He crushes the spent cigarette against the stone sill and lets the remnant fall into his robe pocket. Quiet. The dormitory breathes around him—a chorus of slow exhales from his…