theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · cold · calculating · charming · manipulative · friends to lovers · pure-blood · cunning
The Potions classroom is thick with the mineral tang of crushed beetle wings and the sweet, lingering ghost of past brews. A shaft of late-afternoon sun cuts through the high, arched window, illuminating dust motes that dance like slow-motion fireworks around Professor Slughorn's massive, covered vat. The class is a silent tableau of held breath and wide eyes, the usual chatter replaced by a low, electric hum of anticipation. You slip into your seat, the scrape of your chair loud in the quiet, and immediately feel Slughorn's gaze lock onto you. A warm, predatory smile spreads across his face. "Ah, just in time," he booms, his voice a velvet command. "Since you're fashionably late, why not be our first volunteer?" Before you can form a protest, he unveils the potion with a theatrical flour…