Five and Cicero both sat down on one of the dark wooden chairs that surrounded a table, which held an intricately decorated moss green table cloth - a selection of expensive looking desserts and drinks sitting in polished glass cups.

They were the second group to arrive, Abraxas, Avery and Riddle already seated on the opposite side - Slughorn happily placed at the head of the table, all the students dressed in their pristine Slytherin winter uniforms - green seemingly shimmering in the brightly candle lit room.

Moments later two other dark haired boys walked in, the other two Slytherins that Five had encountered on the train many weeks ago.

They gave a nasty scowl, hidden from the jolly professor, and sat on the same side as their Lord.

"Professor, I'm sorry to say that my sister - Camilla, won't be joining us this evening. She's scheduled to be giving tutoring lessons to her friends at this time and day of the week."
The platinum blond beside the little assassin said, the large man replying with a mellow 'how unfortunate', not sounding as disappointed as he should have.

The professor obviously felt the growing tension between the group of Slytherins, speaking up in the hopes of breaking it - or at least making it less intense.

It had partially worked, the next half hour consisting of chatting and eating - Five not touching the food and instead taking little sips of butter beer.

The two dark haired boys were introduced as Antonin Dolohov and Mulciber - giving a forced greeting to the old teen in order to not be scolded.

The little meeting seemed to of lasted hours to Five for them to be finally dismissed, gaining little valuable knowledge during the discussions, other than the latest gossip of teachers retiring, or people mysteriously vanishing or found brutally tortured and killed - the boy already knowing that at least half of it was caused by the Temps commission.

They all politely said their goodbyes to the professor, the old teen promptly dispersing off to the library - unknowingly earning the attention of a specific snake.

—

It had been three hours, and Riddle had just finished patrolling the dark and mysterious hallways of Hogwarts - deciding on visiting the library in the hopes to find any interesting books in dark arts, the best subject in his opinion.

Cicero on the other hand, had become a little bit worried and went to the same place in the hopes to find his assassin friend - Five, after finding that a bottle of his pure malt fire whisky (that he had somehow bought off the barmaid) and his pillow missing from their dorm.

Riddle had walked in - the library remaining available until ten thirty on the weekends - greeting the kind old librarian before vanishing behind the tall filled shelves.

Cicero also greeted the librarian, entering about a minute or three after the prefect - searching for the brunet.

When the raven haired boy had reached the final shelf in the non-restricted section of the large place, he had come across an old greying wall of complex equations that were nearly impossible for him to decipher, all neatly scribbled on, and a little boy with an empty glass bottle and a clean white pillow - loosely held in his hands as he leaned against the corner wall.

Riddle sighed, and before he could do anything else the sound of a familiar voice and footsteps neared.
He slid into the shadows and out of sight, Cicero laughing slightly at the sight of his wasted friend - the loosely clutched bottle rolling out of his grasp.

"There you are." He looked around for a bit, before bending down and attempting to pick up his friend - failing miserably no matter how light he was because of his small slightly weak frame.

The platinum blond huffed, nearly screaming as the figure emerged from the shadows.
"Need any help?" Riddle asked, using this time to his advantage.

"Really? That's something I never thought I would hear."

"Do want assistance or not Andre? We don't have all night." He asked, annoyance lacing his voice.

"Yes, yes please. That would be very much appreciated Riddle." He quickly replied, moving back to allow the raven haired boy to scoop up Five.

He was shocked, Riddle, this boy was still growing - yet he felt lighter than a three year old, his weight slightly concerning.

No matter, he needs to focus on the task at hand.
Figuring out what was going on in that mind of his - it was like everything was set out for him perfectly, the chance, the situation.

Riddle took a glance into Five's mind, carefully carrying him bridal style through the empty halls - Cicero tailing him closely.

Grey ash swirled around, a young brunet leaning against a piece of debris with a look of agony on his face - clutching his leg tightly, which was disfigured and seemingly broken at the middle.

He took several labourers breaths and struggled slightly as he pushed it back in place with a shout, and an ominous crack.

The prefect quickly pulled himself out the Five's memory, shocked but not physically showing it.

What had happened?

Riddle desperately wanted answers.

The little assassin in his arms fidgeted a fraction, opening his tired droopy eyes - loosely hugging the pillow in his arms.

He gave a lopsided grin, leaning back a little and eyeing Cicero.
"Hah, you know what's funny?" He asked suddenly, the blond shaking his head as Riddle looked down curiously.

"I'm going through puberty." Five scoffed softly.
"Twice."

Cicero internally cringed, feeling bad for the boy in Riddle's arms - puberty was already bad enough, but to have to go through it twice...
He couldn't even imagine how annoying it would be.

"And I..." he started, the blond jogging forwards and walking directly in front of the prefect, backwards so he was facing Five.

"... I drank the whole bottle, didn't I?" The drunk assassin asked, chuckling airily and tiredly. 

"That's what you do, when the world you love goes bye bye poof, it's gone." Five's outer arm was waved in an arc, before groping for the pillow the rest against his inner arm.

"You know, Riddle - when you found me bleeding out in the shadows, that was when Hazel and Cha Cha were called to kill me." His voice continued to crack at random times due to the lack of control over his body.

"Who?"Riddle asked, deciding on trying to weed out any information he could - Cicero quietly walking backwards, occasionally glancing behind himself muttering about how he hated code names.

"Ah the best of the best." He replied casually.
"Except for me of course." Drunk Five added rather smugly.

"The best of what?"

"Missions given out by the commission- you know, Delores always said she hated when I drink.

She said it made me surly." He laughed out, gripping the white object in his arms tighter - grinning almost insanely.

"I'm surprised you're not dead yet, Hargreeves - that was a lot pure whisky."
The brunet in his arms chuckled again.

"If I was in old body I would of had two."

Old, body?

"With how you're going Five right now, someone would have to be with you to protect you." Cicero added jokingly.

"Protect me? I don't need anyone's protection, Cicero." The drunk assassin tried to sit up a fraction.

"Do you have any idea of how many people I've killed?"
Cicero had to resist the urge to tape the boy's mouth, not entirely sure if not drunk Five would of actually liked Riddle to know all of this.

"No." The blond whispered out.

"I'm the four frickin' horsemen."
His tired voice cracked randomly again.

"The apocalypse is coming."
He said with as much seriousness he could muster in his drunken state, finally turning to the intrigued prefect carrying him.

"You know... your eyes look pretty, like a deep unexplored forest." He muttered out, eyes giving out and closing - the boy's world going black as he passed out.

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