Chapter Text
Theodore Nott is the wannabe bad boy, sorted into the Slytherin house at the ripe age of 11 years old.
He was often cognitively challenged, far behind his peers academically. But despite his mental challenges (by "mental challenges" I mean stupidity), somehow, much to my surprise, Theodore's idiocy made him charming, or maybe it's just his pretty privilege.
In his first week of being at Hogwarts, he already managed to befriend the pureblood prince, Draco Malfoy. One can argue that befriending the Hogwarts prince was the only reason that Theodore wasn't dragged through the mud for his... lack of proper Slytherin mannerisms.
"Theodore Nott!" the child exclaims, holding out a sticky hand.
Come on, Theo, at least wash your hands once in a while.
With a look of utter disdain, Draco Malfoy shakes it, gagging. "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy"
No need for the theatrics, Draco, you aren't a character in a James Bond movie.
Theo shakes his hand with the utmost excitement, causing Draco's body to vibrate with the force. With a sneer, Draco pulls his hand away, smoothing his robes. This only causes the stickiness to spread.
"You idiot! You ruined my robes. I'm telling my daddy on you!"
Theodore looks horrified, and he reaches out to wipe the stickiness away with his already sticky hands. Sounds counterproductive if you ask me.
Draco scrambles away, "Don't touch me, you filthy animal!"
Theodore was spared the humiliation of having to respond to that statement, as a prefect came to collect all the first-years to find their dormitories.
As the children oohed and aahed at the moving staircase and talking portraits. Theodore Nott is standing, lost, as he got distracted by a particularly attractive seventh-year Ravenclaw prefect and ended up accidentally following the Ravenclaws to their common room.
Theodore paces in the corridor for, well, he didn't particularly know how much time passed. Since he didn't have a watch, and didn't have the competence to ask for one.
A passing Ravenclaw prefect found him wandering and coaxed him from the Ravenclaws section of the castle and dropped him at the dungeons with a pitying look.
Theo fell asleep out in the corridor. He begged and cried to be let in, but no such luck. No password, no entry.
Who knew they'd be such sticklers for that rule? Well, Theo now knows.
I really bet he wishes he'd let that prefect go now, doesn't he? He wasn't about to pull her anyway.
Oh, and right on time, here's Filch.
"Nott?" he gives Theo a smile that shows his missing, yellowing teeth, "out after hours are we? Detention. For a week."
With that, he hobbles away, muttering something about first years being out after hours, to his cat, Mr. Whiskers or whatever his name is.
With that end to his night, Theo curls up into a fetal position in a nearby alcove and spends his first night at Hogwarts, cold and alone.
....But at least he's full and fed!
That's gotta count for something!