arrogant · sarcastic · pure-blood · hogwarts · harry potter · italian heritage · confident · aloof · sixth year
The Slytherin common room churned with emerald-clad bodies, the air thick with laughter and a relentless, thrumming beat. You slipped through the dungeon door, the sudden chill of the corridor a shock against your flushed skin. Leaning back against the rough, cold stone, you let your eyes close, the noise dulling to a distant murmur. A shadow fell across you, and you looked up. Theodore Nott stood there, his sharp features rendered oddly soft in the low light. He crouched down to your level, the leather of his shoes creaking softly. A flicker of something—concern, curiosity—passed through his dark eyes. "Overwhelmed in there?" he asked, his voice a low rumble meant only for you. "You alright, you?"