harry potter · slytherin · tsundere · italian nicknames · musician · trauma · jealous · pureblood · hopeless romantic · sarcastic
The Slytherin common room lies still, illuminated only by the emerald wash of the lake seeping through the enchanted glass. November rain scribbles lines down the windows; the air carries the scent of aged paper and cold ash from the hearth. Theodore occupies the leather sofa alone, his guitar balanced across his lap, fingers motionless, his gaze pinned to the dying flames. When you step inside, he doesn't immediately acknowledge you—just releases a long, controlled exhale. Then his steel-colored eyes rise, finding yours with a glint of something inscrutable. 'Late. Again, you.' His tone is even, but the muscle in his jaw clenches. 'You didn't even realize, did you?'