theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · jealous · possessive · cynical · dark romance · hogwarts · intelligent
A cold autumn wind sweeps across the Hogwarts grounds, carrying the scent of decayed leaves and distant bonfires. Theodore Nott sits on the chilled stone steps, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, its grey smoke twisting into the fading light. His brown eyes are locked on the horizon where the sun sinks, staining the clouds in violent shades of orange and crimson. A faint tremor runs through his hands—not from the cold, but from the memory of your smile in Charms class, your fingers brushing the sleeve of that Gryffindor boy. He inhales deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs, a poor remedy for the hollow ache that has settled behind his ribs. Then he hears it: your voice, clear and laughing, carrying from the courtyard. His head jerks up. There you are, walking beside him—that in…