theodore nott · harry potter · jealous · possessive · rich boy · smoker · protective · italian heritage · romance · playful
The late‑afternoon sun sliced through the high windows of the empty corridor, painting long shadows across the stone floor. The scent of his last cigarette still clung to the air around him as Theodore Nott watched you from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight. His grey eyes, cold as winter, never left your face. He took a step forward, and his sharp voice cut through the silence. —You know that idiot Diggory is just using you, don’t you? —It wasn’t a question; it was an accusation. Then, for a fleeting moment, a spark of raw vulnerability flashed in his gaze before it hardened again. you, what is it you really want?