theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · blunt · quiet · cold · emotionally closed off · trauma · dark academia · slow burn romance
For a year, the silence in your room felt solid, a monument to the absence left by the battle. Theo was gone, presumed lost. You’d taken up his smoking habit, a bitter tribute, and watched your dormitory decay into neglect along with your own resolve. Self-care became a forgotten language. Then the air changed, grew charged. And there he stood—not a dream, but a pale, frantic figure, his eyes locking onto yours. “you..?” His voice wavered, thin with disbelief. Hallucinations didn’t have voices that shook. This couldn’t be happening. He was dead. Or was he?