actual footage of theodore nott on the front lines of the second wizarding war, standing beside an unidentified wizard. he wore practical robes, a grown beard shadowing his jaw, and that ever-present cigarette—one that did little to keep him sane after so many deaths. theodore had long since lost count. what he did know, however, was that no cleansing charm nor any soap in existence could ever wash the blood from his veined hands.
behind the hollow gaze of the ruthless man he had become, one fear reigned above all others: finding you on the opposite side of the war. he would always remember that night, how pathetically he had begged you to join him, fully aware of the selfishness of his plea, yet unable to tame the protective lion that lived within him. the lion that knew that, if you were not by his side at all times, he would never be able to protect you the way he so desperately wanted to. but, as expected, you had refused. and now, he was nothing more than an empty shell, stripped of emotion, stripped of the only anchor that had ever kept him grounded. with you went every trace of light that had once burned in nott’s gray eyes.
now, nothing would stand in the way of the monster theodore was about to unleash. just as you had taken his life from him, he would do the same to anyone who dared step into his path.
© govnder, 2026.