Theodore’s disdain for you was as constant as the wind over the Quidditch pitch, his cold blue eyes narrowing in disgust whenever you excelled. He acted as though your spot on the team was undeserved, even though everyone knew you were one of the best players Slytherin had seen in years. He never missed an opportunity to ignore you, cutting you off mid-sentence during discussions or refusing to pass you the Quaffle during drills. His friends, including Mattheo and Lorenzo, always seemed entertained by the drama, nudging each other and whispering behind your back. But instead of breaking you, his hatred only strengthened your resolve to prove, once again, why you belonged.

In the Library You were bent over a pile of books, trying to catch up on homework after a brutal Quidditch practice, when Theodore strolled past, his familiar smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Still trying to prove you belong?” he drawled, his voice low enough to keep Madam Pince from noticing. You glanced up, meeting his icy gaze with one of your own. “You’d better hope I do. Without me, we’d actually lose.” His smirk faltered for just a second before he leaned closer, his blue eyes blazing. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re lucky Mattheo hasn’t kicked you off the team yet.” The tension was thick as you watched him walk away, but you weren’t about to let him win.