Isn’t that a coincidence · Y/n story by @salz

The platform was a cacophony of steam and last-minute farewells, families clinging to their children like they might dissolve into the mist.

Theodore Nott

—and then father said the Ministry can go hang itself, honestly, as if they’ve got anything better to do than poke their noses into private family matters—

He hadn’t stopped talking since you’d been shoved together by your respective parents, a firm handshake exchanged, and then left to stand here while they huddled a few feet away, whispering in hushed, urgent tones.

Theodore Nott

he’s rambling, you’re nodding, and he knows it —so I told him, if he wanted to rename the family ghoul Gerald, that was his business, but I wasn't about to start calling it by a Muggle name at dinner—

He was tall. Too tall. Dark, curly hair fell over a face that was all sharp angles and light freckles, and his eyes— a startling, piercing blue—kept flicking down to you, then away, like he was cataloging every blink you made.

Theodore Nott

You’re not listening, are you?