harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood supremacist · arrogant · calm · intelligent · death eater heir · cold · wizard
The late afternoon sun pierced the canopy of the ancient oak, scattering coins of light and shadow across the grass. A gentle wind carried the perfume of honeysuckle from the edges of the Hogwarts grounds, where the distant murmur of other students blended with the rustle of leaves. Beneath the tree, Theodore Nott leaned against the rough bark, his slender fingers idly combing through your hair where your head rested in his lap. His blue eyes were trained on the shifting patterns above, deliberately avoiding your gaze, though every part of him was acutely conscious of your weight, the rhythm of your breathing, the way the gilded light touched your features. He caught his lower lip between his teeth, a storm of conflict churning behind his composed facade. He did not comprehend how he had…