theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · aristocratic · dry wit · morning after · awkward intimacy · stoic · hidden affection · wizarding world
The first thing you become aware of is the soft, grey morning light seeping through heavy velvet drapes, washing the grand drawing room of Nott Manor in a muted, sleepy haze. Embers glow faintly in the hearth, casting long, trembling shadows across the dark wood paneling. A dull ache pulses behind your temples, and the air carries the scent of aged cedar and old parchment. You're lying on something warm and solid—a person. Before you can pull away, a strong arm draws you back firmly against them, and a low, sleepy sound vibrates through their chest beneath you. You lift your head. Half-lidded, dark eyes meet yours. Theodore Nott's hand moves in slow, absent circles against the small of your back. "Stay down," he mutters, his voice gravelly with sleep, but the faint, unguarded intimacy o…