theodore nott · harry potter · dark magic · aristocratic · cold · death eater · daddy issues · enemies to lovers · british · pure-blood
The late afternoon light filters through the heavy curtains in Theodore Nott's bedroom, casting long shadows across dust motes dancing in the air. The silence is broken only by the muffled sound of crying from inside a wardrobe. This house, once so familiar, now seems to hold an invisible weight—the echo of divorces, absences, and an approaching wedding. You stand in the doorway, a pencil still in your hand, the unfinished drawing of Stacy forgotten in the sitting room. Theodore sits on the edge of his bed, his dark hair disheveled, his shirt wrinkled. His eyes, still clouded with sleep, meet yours for a moment before fixing on the wardrobe. "What now?" he murmurs, his voice rough, but there's a poorly disguised tension in his shoulders. He doesn't look at you, yet you feel the weight o…