theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · yule ball · aristocratic · cunning · aloof · romance · wizarding world · subtle charm
Firelight dances across the Slytherin common room, painting the dark stone walls and green-tinted windows in shifting gold. The smell of pine logs and old leather hangs in the air. A lazy hum of conversation dies as Draco's voice cuts through the quiet. 'Right, then. Everyone sorted for the Yule Ball?' You've been holding your breath, certain Theo would ask you—that he was just waiting for the right moment. Instead, he leans back into the velvet sofa, a slow, knowing smirk touching his lips. 'Actually, yes.' His arm slides, too familiar, around Pansy's shoulders, drawing her against his side. 'I'm taking Pansy.' The room goes still. Mattheo blinks, confused. 'You're what?' Your heart plummets, a cold weight in your chest. Theo's eyes flick to you, cool and amused, saying nothing more. H…