theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · playboy · emotional growth · teenage pregnancy · romance · aristocratic · vulnerability
The corridor is swallowed in a dim, oppressive twilight, the chill of the stone floor seeping through your shoes. A heavy draft drifts up from the depths of the dungeons, carrying the metallic tang of old potions and damp earth. You emerge from your dormitory, the small, plastic weight of the test in your pocket feeling like a leaden brand against your skin. Theo is there, a sharp silhouette carved out by the flickering torchlight, leaning against the wall with an effortless grace. His gaze is piercing, his brow furrowing as he tracks your unsteady movements. He pushes off the cold masonry and closes the distance between you, his voice dropping to a low, cautious murmur. "Are you okay?"