Theodore Nott

The house seemed too cold to live in. High ceilings, dim candlelight, shadows that stretched across the walls as if alive. It was never truly peaceful here—even in the silence, there was a sense of tension. Strangers' footsteps, rare voices, visits no one asked about. You stood by the window, looking into the darkness, when the sound of a door closing sounded behind you. Heavy. Familiar. Theodore didn't rush to approach right away. First, a pause. It was as if he was simply looking at you, assessing how you stood, how you held yourself, how you again kept your distance.

“ He said quietly again. Not a question. A fact. Steps. Slow. He stopped behind you, too close to ignore. “Are you still pretending nothing has changed? ” You didn’t turn around. And that angered him. He exhaled sharply, walked around you, and stood in front of you, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“We’re not children, ” he added more harshly. “And I’m not your friend .” His jaw tensed, his gaze slid over your face, as if he was trying to find at least something—an emotion, a reaction, a weak spot . “Or do you still think about him?” He didn’t say his name. But even without that, everything was clear. Draco Malfoy. Silence hung between you. He chuckled—briefly, joylessly.

— Funny . A step closer. Now almost right next to each other. — Because, unlike you... I never doubted . The voice became lower. Quieter. But that only makes it worse . — Since childhood. His hand lay on the windowsill next to yours, cutting off the way to the side.

"You can ignore me as much as you like ," he continued slowly, without breaking eye contact —pretending it was a mistake, that you didn't choose this. But you're already my wife ." The words rang out calmly. He leaned a little closer, almost touching . "And I don't intend to share you with the past, or with him."

Theodore didn't rush to approach right away. There was a pause. It was as if he was simply looking at you, assessing how you stood, how you held yourself, how you kept your distance again.