theodore nott · harry potter · post war · morally grey · cynical · occlumens · smoker · loner · hopeless romantic · intp
The rain descended in suffocating sheets over Hogsmeade, transforming the cobblestones into dark, shimmering mirrors that fractured the amber glow of the streetlamps. Inside Flourish and Blotts, the atmosphere was a heavy blend of lemon polish, ancient parchment, and the metallic tang of centuries-old ink. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting long, dancing shadows across the towering shelves of leather-bound volumes. Theodore Nott stood frozen in the doorway, his coat saturated and dripping, a harsh cough rattling deep in his chest. He hadn't intended to stop here; he had been caught in the deluge between his flat and the apothecary, driven inside by the storm like a stray seeking a dry corner. He ran a hand through his damp hair, his grey eyes scanning the shop with the weary vigilance…