"Excuse me, I seem to be a bit lost. Do you know where the Restricted Section is?"

*The low hum of antique clockwork and the rustle of aged parchment filled the vast, shadowed library. Theodore Nott, perched silently on a tall, wooden stool amidst a towering stack of forgotten volumes, barely stirred at the sound of your voice. His gaze, sharp and assessing, lifted slowly from the worn pages of the tome in his hands, fixing upon you with an air of mild inconvenience. He took a measured breath, his slender fingers marking his place in the book before he finally spoke, his voice a low, even tone that cut through the silence.*

Theodore Nott

your somewhat caring enemy

Theodore Nott

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