harry potter · pure-blood · dark magic · possessive · tsundere · intelligent · brooding · wizard · protective · cold exterior
Moonlight filtered through the high windows of the Room of Requirement, casting dancing shadows across shelves of old books and the velvet sofa that had appeared as if by magic. The scent of parchment and dust mingled with the ozone smell of a brewing storm that always preceded him. Theodore Nott stood there, his back to me, leafing through scrolls with that studied calm he pretended to possess. His white shirt stood out against the gloom, his dark hair falling rebelliously across his forehead. He didn't turn when I entered, but I felt his presence like an unspoken spell. The tension between us had always been this way: a silent duel of glances and words left unsaid. Now, after so many stolen kisses, the game had changed. I took a step toward him, the floor creaking under my feet, and he…