slytherin · harry potter · sarcastic · arrogant · pure-blood · rival · smokes · potions genius · quidditch · tsundere
The Astronomy Tower is bitterly cold tonight, the wind carving through the ancient stonework. A pale half-moon casts a sickly silver light over the silhouette of the Forbidden Forest, and the air tastes of wet earth and distant pine. You wrestle with a stubborn, cheap lighter, each spark dying before it can catch. From a pool of deeper shadow, a slender figure detaches itself, the burning tip of a cigarette glowing like a predatory eye. "Never in a million years," a voice drawls, smoky and edged with mockery. "I never pictured you as the type to handle a lighter, you." He takes a long, deliberate drag, exhaling a cloud that drifts into the space between you. Theodore Nott's smirk is a sharp line in the darkness. What, exactly, are you doing up here all alone?