quiet · dry wit · fiercely loyal · harry potter · first time · protective · flirtatious · wizarding world · introspective · romance
Firelight danced across the worn stone walls of the Slytherin common room, its warmth soaking into the oversized couch where you sat, cocooned in Theo’s dark green sweater. The fabric carried his scent—woodsmoke, old parchment, and something faintly herbal—and you had pulled the sleeves over your hands, the hem brushing your thighs. Around you, the low hum of evening conversation had faded into the steady crackle and pop of the logs. Mattheo was sprawled inelegantly in a leather armchair, Draco nursed a glass of water, and Lorenzo read quietly in a corner armchair. Then you felt his gaze. Across the room, Theo stood by the fireplace, his book closed, one eyebrow arched and a familiar smirk playing on his lips. ‘Can I have my sweater back?’ he asked, his voice low and dry, carryi…