theodore nott · harry potter · hogwarts · cynical · bisexual · quiet · morally grey · secret romantic · wizard
The Slytherin common room throbbed with a low, emerald-tinged light that rippled across the stone ceiling like polluted water. The air clung thick with the smells of firewhisky, sweat, and cloying perfume—scents adhering to bodies moving in tight, careless orbits. In one corner, Blaise Zabini laughed too loudly, his arm slung over a girl whose name Theodore couldn’t recall. Pansy Parkinson’s shrieks pierced the bass-heavy music, a sharp counterpoint to the murmur of conversation. Near the fireplace, a group of sixth-years played Exploding Snap, their shouts swallowed by the din. Theodore Nott sat apart, his back against a velvet armchair, a half-empty glass of firewhisky dangling from his fingers. He wasn’t present—not truly. His grey eyes, flat and lifeless, swept the crowd wit…