the misfits were certainly a riveting four to be in the presence of. their sempiternal pranks and typically childish natures were capable of keeping an individual sharp witted, if not cautious. it certainly did wonders for the reflexes.

the self proclaimed casanova of the entirety of hogwarts, silas orion black, was currently in distress. he had occupied himself with throwing a temper tantrum in the gryffindor common room following his first advanced-potions lesson.

“my fucking brother was in there,” silas proclaimed, indignation staining his voice like the residue of a pomegranate. “why was he in there?” he demanded, launching himself onto a velvet armchair.

tousled gossamer curls obscured his features slightly, casting a shadow over his petulant expression. it was moments like these, when the older black brother was brooding sullenly, that he bore resemblance to rhydian.

“oh. i forgot to mention that he’d be there,” raemus neutrally began, setting down his tower of revision guides on a nearby coffee table before slouching into one of the settees. he fiddled subtly with his worn jumper.

“what happened?” jaimes interjected as he swaggered into the common room after them, flanked by peter. both silas, you, and raemus opted to completely ignore the inquiry.

“excuse me?” silas shot raemus an accusatory glower.

“last year, erm. in potions class. your brother, rhydian, he did so well that they decided to put him in an advanced class,” raemus elucidated, albeit reluctantly.

“and you thought now would be a good time to tell me? bloody hell, moony. prongs, have you heard this?” silas lamented, before glancing towards you as though you had orchestrated this predicament.