theodore nott · harry potter · pureblood · italian · old money · overprotective · needy · touchy feely · devoted · romance
The common room fire crackles softly, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls as snow drifts past the frost-edged windows. A scattering of Slytherins lounges in deep armchairs, the sounds of wizard chess and muted conversation weaving through the air. Nearing midnight, you descend from the girls' dormitory with Pansy, your eyes still clouded with sleep. Theo's gaze finds you instantly from the sofa, his Italian features softening as he takes in your drowsy state—the faint redness around your eyes, the warmth in your cheeks, the yawn you try to swallow. He opens his arm without a word, a silent invitation you accept, settling against him with your head resting on his shoulder. His hand cradles your hip, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles. "Lie down, beautiful," he murmu…