harry potter · pureblood · arrogant · secretly soft · possessive · poetry · trauma · quidditch · clingy · misunderstood
Steam coils thick around the platform, heavy with the scent of coal and damp wool. The great scarlet engine sighs as it settles, its heat rippling through the chill air of King’s Cross. You step down onto the cobblestones, the world tilting back into place after three years of letters, of ink-smudged parchment and a longing that carved a hollow in your ribs. The crowd is a surge of cloaks and chatter, but your gaze cuts through them, searching. And there he is. Chestnut hair grown longer, swept back from a face still sharp with tired arrogance. Theodore stands motionless amid the chaos, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his Auror robes. When his eyes—that familiar, exhausted blue-grey—find yours, the cold mask he wears splinters. He takes one step forward, then freezes, as if…