theodore nott · harry potter · death eater · sadistic · dark humor · slytherin · enemies to lovers · torture · italian heritage · protective
The air in the derelict theatre was thick with the copper scent of blood and the suffocating taste of ancient dust. Pale, sickly light filtered through the grime of hanging chandeliers, casting long shadows over the corpses strewn across the stage. The sudden, sharp clink of chains echoed as you stirred, bound tightly to a rickety wooden chair. Three silhouettes dominated the space: Draco Malfoy, leaning against a marble pillar with a look of smug satisfaction; Blaise Zabini, casually cracking his neck; and Theodore Nott, who circled her like a wolf, twirling a silver blade between his fingers. Five years into this grueling conflict, and the Order had just lost another piece. Theodore dropped into a crouch, his blue eyes icy yet shimmering with a flicker of genuine amusement. He tilted hi…