SABAISM | H. POTTER

FOUR. | FIRST DAY OF CLASSES

Gemini had always been a heavy sleeper. She intended to use that as her excuse, praying Minnie wouldn't decapitate her for being late. Her untied shoelaces thudded against the stone floor as she sprinted through the castle, with Ron and Harry trailing closely behind. They were precisely twenty minutes late to Transfiguration. She was sure Hermione had tried to wake her, but in all her life, only Dad had ever succeeded.

The trio had coincidentally converged in the common room, all rushing to their first class. Of course, Gryffindor's first lesson of the year had to be with Professor McGonagall. As they dashed inside, Gemini's eyes landed on the familiar tabby cat lounging on a mahogany desk, and she winced at the sight.

"Whew," Ron started, "Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we were late?" Gemini grimaced; what a dunderhead. The feline sprang off the desk, transforming into Professor McGonagall. The boys gaped in awe, while Gemini smiled brightly at their teacher.

"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. But perhaps if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter or Miss Lupin-Black into a pocket watch, one of you might arrive on time," McGonagall chided. Well, there went that lie.

"Sorry, Minnie," Gemini apologized, her cheeks flushing. They hurried to find seats, eager to avoid any more negative encounters with the formidable professor.

Her face lit up at the sight of Hermione, who had saved her a spot up front—of course. Once they settled in, McGonagall began her lecture. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex, dangerous, and valuable magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Use it skillfully, and it may, one day, save your life. Make a mistake, and you could find yourself with a toad's head and a monkey's tail."

Although the day began on a rough note, nothing could possibly match what awaited them in Professor Snape's Potions class.

The students buzzed with excitement, sharing their experiences amidst bubbling cauldrons, all in attendance at this marvelous castle. Suddenly, the entryway flew open, and Severus Snape strode in. Sitting to Harry's right, Gemini raised a mocking eyebrow at her friend—was he being overly dramatic? But before Harry could react, Snape began his lecture: "There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to enjoy the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. However, for those few who possess the predisposition, I will teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death—"

He paused, fixing his gaze on Harry, who was hurriedly jotting down notes. "Then again, maybe some of you came to Hogwarts possessing abilities so formidable you feel confident enough not to pay attention."

Gemini jabbed Harry in the ribs as Snape's glare focused on him.

"Mr. Potter, our new...celebrity," Snape sneered. "Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood? You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry shrugged at each query hurled his way, while Hermione's hand remained raised, persistently trying to answer.

From the bitterness of his admission, Snape looked both disgusted and victorious. "Pity," he drawled. "Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?" Resigned, Harry returned to his parchment rather than retaliating. All he wanted was a reprieve from his relatives, and this professor certainly wasn't helping.

Gemini, however, couldn't hold back. "Clearly Hermione knows the answer. It seems a pity not to ask her, but you were too caught up in bullying a child. Also, I just find it rather amusing how your greasy hair shines in this lighting, sir. Do you use product, or are you always this bedraggled?"