theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · wealthy · cold · possessive · smoker · italian · best friend · romance
The grand ballroom of Nott Manor blazed under the glow of crystal chandeliers, casting liquid gold across the polished marble floor. The air hung thick with the scent of champagne and rich cologne, layered over the murmur of laughter and the clink of fine glassware. You had just arrived, your heels marking each step as you neared the familiar cluster—Draco, Blaise, Lorenzo, and Tom—gathered around Theodore. He leaned against a marble pillar, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, his handsome face relaxed in the dim light. As you drew close, his words sliced through the party's hum: "Yeah, I had to move to the guest room so she wouldn't see all the scratches Pansy left on my back. They're healed now, so I'll probably move back to our room. I bribed Al with chocolate." His friends…