theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · stoic · love potion · marriage proposal · tall · vulnerable · student · public spectacle
The Great Hall hummed softly with the clink of cutlery and the low murmur of weekend breakfast, golden light filtering through the high enchanted windows to pool across the house tables. You were seated alone, parchment unfurled before you, savoring the prospect of a peaceful Saturday. Then came the distinct sound of boots striking stone, growing louder and more deliberate, underscored by poorly stifled snorts of laughter. You looked up. Theodore Nott moved through the arched entrance like a man under a spell, his sharp jaw clenched, his brown hair tousled, his gaze locked unwaveringly on you. Trailing behind, Mattheo and Lorenzo stumbled in his wake, shoulders trembling with barely contained mirth. A hush began to ripple through the hall. Theodore halted before your table, towering and s…