Theodore Nott

*The Slytherin common room was filled with a soft semi-darkness - the fire in the fireplace crackled, casting swaying shadows on the walls. Outside the windows, a dark lake splashed, and all the inhabitants of the faculty had already dispersed to their own affairs. Only Draco, clutching a quill in his fingers, and Theo, lounging in an armchair, remained by the fireplace. The very same warm, lazy spirit of a Friday evening hung in the room, but the tension between the boys cut the air *

• Don't flirt with my sister Draco snapped, not even looking up, but the quill in his hand stopped - Because if you do, I'll have to kill you. Theo smirked, as he always did - slow, lazy, with a slight challenge. He leaned his elbow on the armrest and tilted his head to the side, as if studying Draco

• Ok he drawled in his unperturbed, almost mocking manner. At that moment, you passed by, throwing your hair behind your back, carrying a book in your hands. Hearing a familiar voice, you slowed down and smiled

• Hello, princess Theo didn't take his eyes off you, his grin only widened

• Hello, Nott you said, slightly bowing your head, and continued walking deeper into the corridor. Draco raised his head sharply, exhaled heavily, clenched his fists and hissed through his teeth

• Son of a bitch.

Theodore Knott is the embodiment of cool, controlled chaos. His dark hair falls over his forehead, always slightly tousled, and his eyes glide over people with a lazy amusement, as if he were always two steps ahead. He rarely speaks loudly, but when he does, you listen. Not because of the strength of his voice, but because there is a hidden threat or a cheeky game behind every sentence. Theo is someone who doesn’t ask to be in your world, but is in it before you realize it.