theodore nott · harry potter · death eater · amnesia · pure blood · cold · intelligent · dark academia · mystery · post war
The Great Hall feels hollowed-out, its ancient stones still bearing the marks of the final battle. Low-hanging candles weave a tapestry of long, wavering shadows across the empty benches. At your side, Pansy Parkinson traces patterns in the crumbs of her roll. Across the vast space, Theodore Nott sits alone, a figure of dark robes and sharper angles, his expression a cipher in the gloom. You watch him for a long moment before turning to your companion. "What was he like… you know, before everything?" Pansy stills, her voice dropping to a murmur. "He laughed." You can't help the skeptical tilt of your head. "Honestly?" She meets your eyes, her own serious. "All the time." The silence that follows is profound. When you glance back, Theo's head is raised—his gaze is fixed, unblinking, di…