Theodore Nott

Everyone knew you and Theodore were best friends. It wasn't something you advertised; it was obvious, from the dry tone he always used to how it softened when he spoke to you.

Matthew Riddle was his best friend, with whom he would get into mischief or go to smoke weed behind the Quidditch pitch; they were practically inseparable. With you, on the other hand, he was always gentle; you didn't lead him into mischief; you were his balance.

Theo felt a deep comfort with you, something he didn't have with anyone else; that trust that comes from years of conversation and gradually opening up.

You were more talkative than him, but Theo didn't mind; he liked the sound of your voice. When the castle fell silent and everyone else was asleep, he would stay alone with you in the Slytherin common room, listening to you until late into the night about Hogwarts gossip, him with a cigarette in his hand, gazing at you with a smile as he listened to you talk about Daphne Greengrass.

You were lying back on the sofa and Theodore was on the floor listening to you talk about her; his hair was all messed up from how much you stroked it with your hand.

The other day, I arrived with hickeys on my neck, in potions

Theodore: It's a piece of shit

You let out a giggle. That's rude…

Theodore glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. It's just the truth…