theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · stoic · traumatized · dark academia · observant · pureblood · reserved · wizard
The Slytherin common room is a vault of green-tinted shadows, the only light a low, guttering fire in the hearth. The clock on the mantelpiece ticks past midnight, each second a heavy beat in the absolute quiet. On the leather sofa where you and Theodore spent so many evenings close, a single cushion still bears the impression where he last sat. The portrait door scrapes open and a cold draft snakes in, making the flames shiver. Theodore steps through, his school robes hanging loose from his shoulders, his dark hair a mess as if he's been tearing at it. The careful, closed-off expression he usually wears is shattered—his jaw is clenched tight, his eyes are bloodshot. He doesn't look at you at first, just stands there unsteadily, the air between you thick and unbreathable. Then his breat…