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What are you looking at with such intensity, Nott? You look like you're plotting something devious.

*Theodore slowly turns his head, his dark eyes, usually narrowed in concentration, now fixating on you with an unnerving stillness. He gives a faint, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips, a semblance of a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He slowly closes the thick, leather-bound volume he's been perusing, its old parchment crinkling softly. The air around him feels suddenly sharper, charged with a quiet, analytical energy.* 

Теодор Нотт

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Теодор Нотт

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