SABAISM | H. POTTER

FIVE. | NOT EXPECTED

Gemini Lupin-Black had always known she was a magnet for mischief. Trouble seemed to find her the way a Niffler found shiny things—inevitably and with a certain chaotic glee. But as she followed Professor McGonagall's brisk, no-nonsense stride through the echoing corridors of Hogwarts, Gemini wondered if she'd finally overdone it. If McGonagall expelled her after only a few days into term, that would be a record to remember—for all the wrong reasons.

She winced, imagining the disappointed look on Remus Lupin's face, the way his gentle eyes would cloud with concern and a touch of sadness. But he would be quietly devastated. The thought sent an involuntary shiver up her spine.

On the surface, Gemini kept her expression neutral, her chin tilted up in defiance, but inside, her heart thudded against her ribs like a trapped Golden Snitch.

Beside her, Harry Potter walked in silence, his green eyes darting between Gemini and the back of McGonagall's tartan robes. He looked as nervous as she felt, his knuckles white where he clutched his schoolbag. They exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them: at least they wouldn't face whatever was coming alone.

The castle's corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and beeswax polish. Portraits whispered to one another as they passed, and the occasional suit of armor clanked in greeting—or warning. Gemini tried to focus on the familiar details: the flicker of torchlight on stone, the distant chime of the clock tower, the way her shoes scuffed against the flagstones. Anything to distract herself from the growing sense of dread.

Finally, McGonagall halted before a sturdy oak door, its brass handle gleaming. The plaque read DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS in elegant, curling script. Without hesitation, McGonagall rapped sharply and pushed the door open, interrupting the stammering lecture of Professor Quirrell.

"An iguana is an inessential-ingredient—" Quirrell was saying, his voice wobbling like jelly on a plate. He froze mid-sentence, his eyes wide behind his turban as McGonagall swept into the room, her presence commanding immediate silence.

"Excuse me, Professor Quirrell. May I borrow Wood for a moment?" McGonagall's tone brooked no argument.

"W-Wood?" Quirrell echoed, his gaze flickering nervously between McGonagall and his students as if expecting someone to produce a literal log. Gemini's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Was McGonagall about to whack them with a stick? She stifled a giggle at the thought.

A tall, broad-shouldered boy with tousled brown hair stood up from the back row, his Gryffindor tie slightly askew. He looked every inch the Quidditch player, with an easy confidence in his stride. "Yes, Professor?" he asked.

"Come along, Wood," McGonagall said, her voice brisk. She beckoned Harry and Gemini with a curt nod, and the trio followed her out into the corridor, the door swinging shut behind them and muffling Quirrell's anxious mutterings.

Once they were alone, McGonagall turned to scrutinize them, her sharp eyes glinting behind her square spectacles. Gemini felt as if she were being weighed and measured, her every secret laid bare.

"Potter, Lupin-Black, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I have found you a Seeker and a third Chaser," McGonagall announced, her lips twitching in what might have been the ghost of a smile.

For a moment, silence hung in the air, thick with disbelief. Harry's mouth fell open in astonishment, Oliver's eyes widened in shock, and Gemini felt a rush of disbelief and elation that left her dizzy. There was no way this was real. First years never made the house teams. It was unheard of.

Oliver recovered first, his face breaking into a grin. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "We've been looking for a new Seeker since last year. And a third Chaser? That's fantastic!"