[Completed]
An alchemist who poisoned himself, an assassin who stabbed his own heart, an arsonist who burned herself, and a hero who couldn't defeat his inner monster.
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( A re-enact of Hades...
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Chaos in a school full of teenagers was habitual, for the most part in the late 1970s, Hogwarts was filled with it, orchestrated by four Gryffindor pranksters. One morning the Slytherin's quidditch team were attacked by wild baby mandrakes thrown inside their changing room. The incident was swooning, to say the least, while the four devils were laughing with proper earmuffs on the commentary stands.
But that morning, the four had become three — worse two. One was sick for his regular lunar cycle visit to the Hospital Wings and one broke a bone in during their attempt to sneak out to the Hog's Head pub for a few pints of fire whiskey. Potter huffed, his head spun from the cascading alcohol that remained in his blood.
"Ah fuck!" Prongs peered down to his plate, stabbing his morning bacon despite the imaginary fairies stubbornly stuck on his vision. Sirius sat across him with an unbothered expression, as if he was immune to hangover's kiss with his unfinished plate of egg. Instead, he was folding a paper crane. His tongue barely stuck out, that he claimed for concentration.
"Eat up, Prongs." Padfoot pointed, eyes still on his paper toy, "It will make you feel better."
"She's coming." James groaned at the sight of the muggleborn witch. Cherry red hair swayed on her back, and James's deer eyes motioned to her elegant figure. There was something about the muggleborn's demeanor that made the Potioneer's heir was smitten to her. Fleamont Potter nearly suspected that he was on Amortentia.
Although, the witch only spoke to him when her rapacious sentence involved the term 'toe-rag' to refer his being. Four years straight, and James Potter was accustomed to the calling. Sirius once referred his attitude as stupid. For each time, the Potter boy's eyes met hers, he lost himself in her — jade-green pairs that filled with annoyance — yet it made his heart stupidly skipped a beat.
The muggleborn caught a sight of him and the Black heir. Since their last fight of Severus she tore her gaze away, settled herself and Marlene on the Ravenclaw's table with two familiar 5th years. Oddly unlike their habitually post-fight interaction, the queen of peeling James Potter's arrogance had a frown on her face. And he couldn't decipher was it from disappointment or could it be regret?
The Gryffindor's King shook his head at the thought of Lily Evans saved him a soft spot beneath her toe-rags facade she plastered on him. Yet, had it not because of that fight, James Potter wouldn't be a best friend to Ogden's fine brew of firewhiskey the previous night. Mumbling nonsense at his drunken state, Sirius had to shove Remus's clean sock to shut him up before he threw up rainbows of compliment to the girl in their dorm.
