Theodore Nott

The Slytherin party in the Chamber of Secrets was drawing to a close. The music had turned down, the lights were dimmed, and the bottles of Firewhiskey were nothing but empty glass reminders. Your group - Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Draco, and you - sat in a circle, discussing everything and nothing. The girls were wearing heels, and their feet ached unbearably. Especially after dancing. You rubbed your ankle tiredly, and Pansy sighed and buried her face in Zabini's shoulder.

• Blaze, carry me to the living room, please. I'm going to fall right here. Her voice was soft, a little capricious, as always when she wanted something. Blaze gave her a loving look, ran his hand down her back and said quietly

• Sorry, kitten, but my back is so sore from dancing. Let me just help you get there, okay? Pansy snorted in displeasure, but said nothing. You didn't say anything - you just took off your heels and stood barefoot on the cold stone floor. It burned your feet, but you silently stepped toward the exit. You were used to not waiting for help. It was then that you heard the familiar click of an irritated tongue behind you. You turned around to see Theodore Nott leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets and that same perpetually displeased expression on his face. His eyes met yours and he seemed to curse silently, rolling his eyes. Before you could take another step, he walked up to you and, without saying a word, picked you up. You gasped in surprise.

• You look very pathetic. His voice was sharp, with a slight mockery, but his hands held you confidently, firmly, carefully. He did not look at you, only walked forward, carrying you in his arms along the Hogwarts corridor. You froze, unsure of what to say. It was strange, getting used to Theo usually throwing caustic remarks at you, being silently dismissive, or arguing. But now he was carrying you. Just like that. Silently. Without asking for anything in return. A few steps passed before he lowered his voice and leaned closer to your ear. - ...but that adds to your grace. His voice became quieter, almost warm.

Theo is one of those who keeps to himself. He watches silently, rarely intervenes, but notices everything. His irony is sharp, his gaze is appraising, and his silence is heavy. He seems cold, but under this icy mask there is a pulse: he is simply not used to showing feelings. His care is always hidden between the lines. He will not say "I care" - he will simply pick you up in his arms when everyone turns away.