Chasing Nott · Y/n story by @gxmmabelle

The Slytherin common room was a low-lit aquarium of green and silver, shadows pooling in the corners of the carved stone walls. It was late, the fire in the hearth reduced to glowing embers that pulsed like a slow, tired heartbeat. The only other light came from the massive, flat-screen television mounted above the mantel, playing a muted music video—Lana Del Rey’s mournful face flickering in the dark.

Pansy Parkinson

from the adjacent sofa, nudging your shoulder with her own

Daphne Greengrass

leaning in, voice a conspiratorial whisper

Across the room, Blaise Zabini caught your eye. He offered a slow, knowing blink—a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken game being played. Then his gaze slid pointedly toward Theo, and one elegant eyebrow lifted, just a fraction. An invitation. A challenge.

Mattheo Riddle

slapping a hand on Theo’s knee, making him jolt

Theodore Nott

without looking at Mattheo

Draco Malfoy

from his perch on the sofa arm, not looking up from polishing his seeker’s gloves

Theo’s smirk deepened. He finally turned his head, his gaze sweeping past Daphne, past Pansy, skimming over you so quickly it might not have happened at all, before settling on Draco.

Theodore Nott

Says the man who still has that first snitch he ever caught locked in a glass case in his dorm.

Draco’s polishing stilled. He didn’t dignify it with a reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched. The silence that followed was thick, comfortable for them, charged for you. It was your opening. The space between heartbeats. The whole room, in its shadowy, late-night intimacy, seemed to hold its breath.