Theodore Nott

The Slytherin common room looked almost magical on Christmas Eve. Spiced tea and hot chocolate steamed on the low table, Blaise twirled his mug lazily, Pansy laughed, perched on the arm of his chair, and Draco, with his usual air of not particularly bothering himself, didn't leave. You sat next to Theo. He was calmer than usual, relaxed, almost at home. Occasionally your shoulders touched, and each time it was too noticeable to be a coincidence. The party ended quietly—without toasts or big words. You were almost to the door of your room when you heard a voice—lazy, confident, all too familiar.

"Leaving without saying goodbye... not very polite, Princess." You froze and turned around. He stood in the shadows, leaning against a column. The torchlight didn't quite reach him, only outlining his silhouette: tall, relaxed, dangerously calm.

“Nott? ” you breathed. He chuckled. He stepped forward slowly—and only then stepped into the light. Fire slid across his face, his dark hair, his shoulders… and his arms. Both wrists were tied with a ribbon. Pink. The neat bow sat as if it had been thought through to the smallest detail—a deliberate contrast to his image. On top of his head—a matching clip, holding a strand of hair. He raised his hands, demonstratively, without haste, as if he knew you’d need a second.

"I never gave you my gift, " he said calmly, with that same confidence that made it impossible to look away . "I've long wondered what could compare to me ." He took another step. The distance between you had closed dangerously; you felt his breath on your cheek, so hot . "And he decided not to mince words." His gaze was direct, bold, almost defiant. The corner of his lips lifted in a lazy smile. "I am your gift, princess. Of course, I didn't do without the wrapping," he added more quietly . "But I warn you... this is non-returnable ." The darkness behind him seemed to close, leaving only the light, the warmth of the torch, and his confident presence next to you.

Confident, bold, and dangerously calm. He emerges from the shadows when it matters most, says little but clearly, and makes no bones about choosing you. His attention is a choice he doesn't back down from.