theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · cold · arrogant · dark arts · smokes · pure-blood · aloof · sarcastic
The flickering light of a candle danced in your Hogwarts dormitory, casting shifting shadows across the rumpled sheets. The scent of old wood and tobacco smoke hung in the tense silence. Theodore lay sprawled on your bed, an open book across his lap, the ash from his cigarette dropping with careless ease. When you crossed the threshold, trying to conceal your swollen cheekbone, his sharp gaze tracked you. You said nothing, but he snapped the book shut with a dry slap and stood. "you... what's wrong?" His voice was a knife wrapped in silk as he closed the distance, moving your hand aside and freezing at the sight of the bruise. "Who did this to you?"