❝𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴...❞
~*~*~*
Lily Evans was the first ever witch not to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in attempt t...
This chapter is dedicated to the adorable Buttercup who I've been talking a lot to over the past few days and she's an absolute sweetheart! Power_Puff_Princess ♥️♥️♥️
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(1st September 1977)
Sirius Black had a talent for the dramatics. He'd always been partial to a good bit of flare where least necessary, or most mundane, or rather anywhere he saw fit.
James Potter, on the contrary, elected to go about things in an more too-the-point way and conducted most things with a level of frankness and respectable candour. However even the most forthright of characters could appreciate when some things called for a touch of The Arts...
Until that moment, the four marauders had been seated on their respective four posters, leaving the one nearest the bathroom as empty as it always had been (a student of their age hadn't been there to occupy that bed and so over the years they'd demised various aliases that their roommate could have been, their favourite being a time-traveller from Alabama that hadn't made it back on time to be sorted). And it was while each marauder took solitude in the quiet that James found himself smirking while he pulled a small badge out from his pocket and begun throwing it between each hand like he liked to do with his snitch.
However this badge was by no means one the other boys would recognise. It was not silver and bronze like the MPP badges Mary had made for each member, nor was it the red and gold Quidditch Captain badge he'd worn on the corner of his uniform jumper for a couple of years. No, this badge was different. It was slightly bigger and it was all gold, on the front were gleaming letters that read Head Boy.
It didn't take long for Peter to look up from the Marauders Map to see James toying with this mysterious trinket and enquire what it was. "Prongs?"
"Pete?"
"What's that?"
James' smirk grew as the other two boys perked up their attentions to the only thing mildly interesting they'd seen in the past hour. "This?" He tossed the badge into the air once more, flipping it like a galleon.
"No, the tattoo on your forehead."
Sirius snorted just as Remus caught on as to exactly what James was holding: "Who did you nick that off?"
"I didn't."
"You definitely did. You've often been light fingered, Prongs. One might even call you a kleptomaniac– you've had the same stolen snitch for three years!"
