» ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ꜰᴏx || ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ

Part 32

"Andre, you do realising that underage drinking is against the law." Tom said as he placed the passed out assassin on his bed, resisting the urge to ruffle his chocolate brown locks.

The warm canary yellow lights were dimly lit, giving a luminous glow to the dorm that Cicero, Five and Marcus occupied - the pixie haired boy sleeping soundly on his top bunk.

Cicero nodded nervously, fiddling with his fingers behind his back absentmindedly.
Riddle smirked inwardly, continuing to speak to the blond before him.

"And as prefect it is my duty to report any rule breaking." He took a necessary and rehearsed pause, allowing the boy to get desperate for any solution to keep his dear friend out of trouble.

"But, I'm willing to - not turn your friend in, for a certain something." Cicero looked up hopefully.

"The book extra ordinary. From what I've seen no wizarding shop has the book, and there's something I need to check."

The platinum haired boy suddenly hurried to his four poster bed, diving beneath it and pulling out his brown leather trunk - accio-ing his spare copy after a few second of riffling through his belongings.

"I always keep a spare in case my other gets lost - here." He stood up, passing Riddle the book - who gladly took it with a blinding grin.

"Keep it." Cicero finished quickly, the prefect thanking him before turning on his heel - and leaving the dorm.

The raven haired boy silently stride down the steps and n front of the large oil portrait of Salazar Slytherin, the white haired man resting peacefully in the near silence that the night provided.

As the fire crackled the boy read through the book efficiently - apart from the strangely long prologue, the first seven chapters consisting of who each Hargreeves child was, and what they meant to the pathetic ordinary girl.

He finally flicked a thin page after a good half hour - reading through chapter five with great interest.

—

Chapter 5 : The fifth Hargreeves

• Number 5 •
'Number Five'

Number Five, another one of my loving adoptive brothers.

He was a cold and intimidating person with a glare that could paralyse you on the spot.
A ruthless master combatant that could take down any fully grown adult, bringing them down onto their knees and begging for mercy.

He never took in a name, he couldn't really - he wasn't present when our Android mother finally decided on naming us all.

Five seemed to be a heartless. logical fifteen year old to many others - and he could be.
But underneath that harsh attitude of his, he could be kind.

Besides Allison, he was the only other sibling who comforted me - telling me everyday that even if I was mundanely ordinary, I was still unique in my own way, and that my ordinariness didn't matter to him at all.

That I was still his sister, adopted or not.

His power is time-space manipulation. Sometimes called 'blinks' or 'spacial jumps'.
This allows him to travel through space and time at a terrifying pace, as well as teleport objects without any physical contact.

I still remember the day of the bank robbery, in which a rather large man had attempted to shoot him - finding that his pistol had been replaced by an office stapler that was soon used to dig the sharp piece of metal into his own scalp.

"That's one badass stapler!" I remember him saying smugly.

He always pushed himself when it came to his special ability, immediately trying to see how far he could go, how long he could continuously blink for without collapsing into a tired heap onto the floor.
He would force himself to exhaustion, showing just how dedicated he was to finding his limits - and pushing past them.

These jumps were his spacial jumps, Five was forbidden from doing the jump he so desperately wanted to do - feeling as though he were tethered to the ground by a heavy chain without the allowance of even scratching the surface of time jumping.

I miss his comebacks and sarcastic comments, I miss his comfort and his strange love for coffee and peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.
I miss him blinking in and out of spaces, scaring the living daylights out of every single one of us.

I miss him dearly.

The day he disappeared was a day that etched itself into my mind, scarring by me.
He wanted to time travel during meal time, our adoptive billionaire father who bought us saying that he wasn't ready for the dangers it bought- making him aggravated, causing him to rebel against him.

He had run away.

We all secretly kept our fingers crossed beneath the table - frozen in our wooden seats - and hoped that Five would return.
Maybe he just wanted some fresh air, we thought - praying that he would come back with his sarcastic comments and call us all wimps for thinking that he wouldn't return.

He never did.

I love my brother so dearly, and that sibling love went as far as to me keeping at least two of the brightest lights on, and a plate of his favourite sandwich for the next three years - in case that he would return at night and disappear again, thinking that we weren't here for him anymore.

Scared and all alone.

To this day I still hope that he returns to us, to me, to our family.
His disappearance had effect us all a lot more than we showed, as if his shadow had loomed over everyone and placed a heavy blanket over us.

The empty seat at the dining table, the lack of playful insults and dimpled grins that were both cute and threatening, the unoccupied desk in the neat and tidy room we all studied in leaving an empty void in our souls - the biggest gap being in mine.

Even if the chances are slim.
Even if it has been several long and tedious years of me being sad and disappointed that he hadn't returned.

It has been seven years.
I have faith that he will come back.

One day.

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