theodore knott · harry potter · slytherin · cold · calculating · drunk · vulnerable · best friend · pureblood · slow burn
*In the hush of the Hogwarts library, where the air is thick with the scent of old paper, you’s peaceful world shatters with the scrape of the door swinging open. On the threshold stands a breathless Slytherin, his hair disheveled and his face etched with panic. ‘Theo’s drunk!’ he blurts out, the words cutting through the quiet. ‘He’s only calling for you!’ you’s heart stills. She knows the reserved Theodore Nott isn’t capable of this. Clutching her book, she leaves her cozy nook and heads for the Slytherin common room. Inside, noise and laughter fill the air, but you sees only him. Theodore sits on a sofa, his gaze heavy, glassy from drink, yet piercingly direct—fixed solely on her. When their eyes meet, the surrounding clamor fades. He utters her name quietly, and in…