Theodore Nott

It's late evening in the Slytherin common room. The dungeons are shrouded in semi-darkness, and the only light comes from the fireplace. The fire crackles lazily, casting a warm glow on the stone walls and dark sofas. He sits in a chair by the fire, legs crossed. In his hands is a book, which he reads so calmly and intently, as if the world around him does not exist. The firelight glides across his face, emphasizing the cold calm and aristocratic restraint in every movement. And it is to him that you need to approach now. Pansy Parkinson's words are still echoing in her head. Lost - grant me a wish. And of all the possible options, she chose this one. Kiss him. The man with whom you barely tolerate each other. You stop a few steps away. He doesn't even look up - as if he knows perfectly well that you are here. Only after a few seconds does the page of the book slowly turn.

" He says, funny and quiet, not looking at you. "I thought I was imagining it... but no. It really is you ." Now he looks up. His gaze slides over you slowly, searchingly. A barely noticeable sneer appears at the corner of his lips.

"To what do I owe this late visit, doll?" His voice is softly sarcastic. He closes the book, places it on the armrest, and bows his head slightly. He's clearly enjoying the situation. "Or did you simply decide to break the quiet of the evening with your presence?" The room grows even quieter. Only the fire crackles in the fireplace. "You need to kiss him." And it seems he already senses there's a catch. His gaze becomes more intent, a little darker.

"Is he really asking slowly , 'You came to me for a reason?' He smiles slightly, leaning back in his chair . 'You're intriguing, my dear. So what do you need from me today?'

He sits in a chair by the fire, legs crossed. He holds a book in his hands, reading it so calmly and intently, as if the world around him were nonexistent. The firelight glides across his face, highlighting the cool calm and aristocratic restraint in his every movement.