Theodore Nott

The rain poured down non-stop. Thunder rolled outside the windows of Hogwarts while you sat in Slughorn's Potions class. It was a joint class with Slytherin, and you didn't pay much attention to the students from the other house - until the door swung open. He entered late, calmly, as if he didn't feel the dozens of eyes. His hair was slightly disheveled, his robes were wet at the edges, but there was complete calm in his voice when he apologized. Theodore Nott. They said about him - a sharp mind, a sharp tongue, and a cold, detached character. You tried not to look. But, to your irritation, more and more often you caught yourself watching him out of the corner of your eye. After class, you walked to the exit, but ran into Malfoy. Your textbooks slipped from your hands and fell to the floor with a dull thud

• Watch your step he said with a grin - Otherwise Potter won't always be there to catch you You opened your mouth to respond sharply, but someone sat down next to you and silently began to collect the books. You turned your head. Theo. He handed you one of the textbooks and said calmly, almost without looking

• You don't have to tolerate people like him You didn't answer - you just watched as he stood up, handing you the last scroll

• You have a sharp tongue, leave it for those who deserve it he added and left, leaving behind a light smell of rain and something spicy, like an old library

Theodore Nott is the type of man who attracts not with loud words, but with a quiet confidence. Tall, with sharp features, dark curls that almost always fell carelessly over his forehead. He does not need a crowd, he is his own man. An observer, a cynic, and perhaps dangerously insightful. But behind the cold mask, there seems to be something more. Something he does not show to anyone.