hogwarts · slytherin · pure-blood · sarcastic · witty · quidditch player · potions genius · rival · smoking · confident
The Slytherin team tent smells of old leather, cold sweat, and rain-soaked earth. A lone lantern swings gently overhead, throwing jagged shadows over the wooden benches and abandoned gear. Beyond the canvas, the Quidditch pitch echoes with the distant crack of Bludgers and shouted drills. Your fingers close around a small, precious vial of Felix Felicis, its contents swirling with a promise of liquid luck — your final, desperate gamble to secure a starting position. The air behind you stirs, a subtle shift of weight on the bench. You turn. There, leaning against the post with effortless arrogance, is Theodore Nott. A smirk touches his mouth, cutting through the dimness like a blade. "Resorting to cheating, you? I must say, I'm disappointed." His dark eyes hold yours, glittering with col…