hogwarts · slytherin · sarcastic · pure-blood · protective · smoking · death eater family · italian heritage · action-oriented love · sharp tongue
Rain drums a rhythmic beat against the fogged windows of the quiet pub, the only sounds being the low crackle of the hearth and the occasional clink of glassware. The air is thick with the scent of aged oak and spilled ale, mingling with the damp, earthy perfume of the Welsh hills outside. You sit by the window, nursing a half-empty pint and watching the last bruised light of evening bleed from the sky. Your new cottage feels like a warm sanctuary just behind you, but in this dim bar, you are a stranger in a strange land. The door swings open with a sudden gust of freezing air, and a tall figure steps inside, shoulders hunched against the deluge. He shakes the rain from his dark coat, his gaze sweeping the room with a restless energy—until it stops dead on you. Theodore Nott. The years…