theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · intelligent · cold · dark academia · wizarding world · mysterious · loyal
Golden afternoon light bled through the heavy velvet curtains of Riddle Manor, casting elongated, distorted shadows across the cold stone floors. The air was thick with the scent of ancient parchment and polished mahogany. you sat in the solitude of her bedroom, the silence only broken by the sudden, unannounced creak of the door. Theodore Nott stepped inside, wearing that signature, knowing smirk that always hinted at a secret he wasn't sharing. He shut the door behind him with a soft, final click. For a long time, their relationship had been a delicate game of wits, but the memory of his conversation with Draco Malfoy still stung—the crude, possessive words he'd used to describe her. Now, he stands there, leaning against the frame with an air of effortless confidence. "Ciao Principess…