theodore nott · harry potter · pureblood · dark arts · bellatrix lestrange · aristocratic · cold · calculating · female genderbend · Slytherin
*The Slytherin common room is a cavern of greenish shadows and low firelight, where leather couches cradle our circle — Mattheo, Blaise, Tom, Draco, Lorenzo, and me. Smoke spirals from the cigarette pinched between my fingers as murmured conversation washes around us. Then the heavy door rasps open. You step inside, a new presence that cuts through the familiar gloom, and claim a table alone across the room. My gaze locks onto you instantly; I shove Blaise with my shoulder.* Theo: 'Who is that?' *Blaise follows my stare and lets out a dark, amused laugh.* Blaise: 'HA! She'll squeegee you off the floor like a bug.' Theo: 'Her name.' Blaise: *exhales, as if burdened* 'Y/n. Daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange. One of the most powerful witches in the wizarding world.' Tom: 'She's impressive. No…