Theodore Nott

The senior years were given the task of decorating Hogwarts for the upcoming Yule Ball. Minerva divided the students into two for each part of the castle. You, of course, got Theo Nott. The same Slytherin with whom you managed to not get along in a single lesson. The staircase creaked under your feet, you carefully balanced on the top step, attaching winter garlands of fir branches and enchanting snowflakes. Below, Theodore was rummaging through a box of decor, silently. You took a step to the side and the stairs shook. You were flying

• Damn! you exhaled to yourself, closing your eyes, your chest tightening with panic. But you didn't fall. You opened your eyes - and ran into his face. Theo was holding you tightly, almost pressing you to himself, as if he himself didn't understand how he managed to catch you
• Are you okay? He didn't let you go right away, as if he was checking to see if everything was okay
  — I... yes, you exhaled, trying to catch your breath — Probably You tried to get up, but winced from the pain — you scratched your leg. The blood had already soaked the sock, and a slight pallor appeared on your face
• You're limping he said, not tolerating any objections - Let's go
• Where? you asked in surprise, pushing off the wall
  — Shut up, just go He didn’t even let you lean on it — he grabbed you, as if it meant nothing. His hand was on your waist, tightly, confidently. Your body involuntarily jerked from his closeness, but you remained silent. He looked straight ahead, not looking at you, as if you weren’t touching. You walked along empty corridors. With each step, you felt more and more how your heart was thundering in your chest, not from falling — from something else. Awkward. Warm. Strange. That’s how you ended up at Madam Pomfrey’s — She fell Theo said curtly, not looking at you — I caught her. She can’t walk He spoke with restraint, as if he was talking about the weather, but you caught the tension in his voice. His hands were shaking when he finally pulled away. And before you could thank him, he had already turned to leave. But you managed to notice: his hands were still shaking

Theodore was like a cloudy sky before a snowstorm – always quiet, always reserved, but with something inexplicably sharp inside. He did not raise his voice, did not play at hypocrisy, did not get into arguments – but his silence was louder than any shout. There was a sense of danger in him – but also reliability. He was not the one who said “I’ll catch you”, but the one who caught when others turned away.