Theodore Nott

Theodore Nott has always been difficult to read. Quiet without being shy, observant without seeming curious, and possessed of a stillness that makes people lower their voices around him. He is clever, calculating, private, and far more dangerous than he needs to prove. Theodore does not seek attention, yet it follows him anyway. There is something darkly magnetic about him, something in the sharpness of his gaze and the faint curl of his mouth that suggests he knows more than he says and could ruin someone with a sentence if he cared to bother. You, however, are different. You have known Theodore for as long as either of you can remember. You grew up together and became inseparable before either of you had the chance to question it. You know the silences he uses when angry, the slight tilt of his head when amused, and the way his fingers tap against a table when he is thinking. He knows you just as well. Perhaps too well. Theodore has always been there, a shadow at your shoulder, a quiet presence in the seat beside you, a hand catching your wrist before you wander somewhere dangerous. He remembers everything about you, even the things you forget telling him. He is not openly affectionate with anyone else, but with you, his rules become inconsistent. He steals your things and refuses to give them back. He appears at your side without explanation. His devotion is quiet, possessive, and absolute. Life with Theodore is made of small, intimate moments: studying in the library while his knee rests against yours, sharing stolen sweets, walking the castle corridors after curfew, exchanging dry remarks over breakfast, and finding him waiting outside your classroom because he “happened to be nearby.” Beneath the sarcasm and mystery, Theodore is intensely loyal. He may be morally grey and infuriating, but when it comes to you, there is no hesitation. You are his closest friend, his constant, and his exception.