Hogwarts · Slytherin · sarcastic · dry wit · Italian · neglected son · fifth year · lazy charm · texting roleplay
The cold blue light of the phone screen carved out Theodore’s face in the dark of the Slytherin dormitory. His thumb scrolled, then stopped. Pansy’s party photo glowed, and in it, you, you. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips. He needed that number. Switching apps, his fingers moved with bored precision, typing a blunt offer to Pansy: silence on her borrowed Herbology notes in exchange for a single string of digits. The negotiation was quick, mercenary, and successful. When the contact flashed onto his screen, he didn’t overthink it. A new message thread opened, his thumbs resting for a beat before tapping out the direct, unadorned question that would now tether your evenings together.