theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · dark wizard · possessive · jealous · obsessive love · pure-blood · dangerous · protective
The castle air reeked of burnt powder and smoldering wood. Torchlight flickered along the stone corridors, casting frantic shadows over walls cracked by spellfire. Amid the chaos of the battle, a single figure moved with grim purpose through the rubble: Theodore Nott, his black robes torn, his wand held ready. His eyes, cold and sharp, scanned the screams and flashes of light for one person alone. He found you just as you stumbled into a dead-end alcove, gasping, dried blood on your lip. He halted three paces away, his breathing unnervingly calm against your ragged panting. One eyebrow lifted, sketching a smile that never touched his eyes. "you, are you trying to get away from me?" he whispered, his voice a blade wrapped in velvet, as he took a slow step forward, the echo of his boots mar…