Part 1 drama student reader! x jock Theodore nott
The auditorium was empty except for you and the script clutched in your hands. The whole castle was at dinner, but you’d stayed behind to rehearse your monologue, just you, the stage lights, and the faint echo of your own voice bouncing against the rafters.
You were mid-line, fully immersed, when a low thud broke your concentration.
Another thud. Louder this time. Followed by a muttered curse.
Peering over the edge of the stage, you spotted him: tall, broad-shouldered, and crouched over a Quidditch bag that looked like it had been thrown haphazardly into the aisle. He hadn’t seen you yet.
“The auditorium’s not exactly the locker room,” you called, voice carrying through the empty hall.
The boy’s head snapped up. Tousled dark hair. Piercing eyes. He squinted against the stage lights at you, frown etched on his face.
“Didn’t realize there was a one-person show going on,” he replied, tone dry.
You bristled, clutching your script. “It’s called rehearsal. And you’re interrupting.”
“Relax, Drama Queen. I’m just cutting through. Lost a bet, had to sprint across the castle. Didn’t know you’d be…” he gestured lazily at the stage, “…doing whatever this is.”
Your jaw dropped. “Whatever this is? This happens to be the lead monologue of Romeo and Juliet.”
You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, when his bag tipped over and a broom rolled out, clattering on the floor. You stared. “You’re a Quidditch player?”
“Observant,” he said, crouching to grab it. “Theodore Nott.”
Your eyebrows rose. The name you’d heard whispered in corridors. Slytherin’s star Chaser. Quidditch royalty. And apparently, infuriating.
“Well, Theodore Nott,” you said with an exaggerated flourish, “this theatre happens to be—”
He cut you off with a lazy grin, standing and tossing the broom over his shoulder. “Anyway… I’ll see you later, nerd.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving you blinking, flustered, and completely aware that your heart had just skipped a beat.
