SABAISM | H. POTTER

SIX. | PLAYING QUIDDITCH TO PLAYING SNAPE

Quidditch was the one thing that could turn Gemini Lupin-Black into a morning person. She was notorious for burrowing under her duvet and ignoring the world until noon, but the promise of flying high above the Hogwarts grounds, wind in her hair and sunlight on her face, was enough to make her leap out of bed before dawn. Just as reading would keep her awake into the early hours—her nose buried in a battered copy of 'Hogwarts: A History' or the latest Muggle detective novel—Quidditch was her sunrise, the thing that made her heart race with anticipation.

On this particular morning, the castle was still shaking off the last remnants of sleep. The corridors were quiet, echoing only with the distant clatter of house-elves preparing breakfast in the kitchens and the occasional hoot of an owl returning from its nightly hunt. The air held that unmistakable scent of dew and old stone, tinged with the faintest aroma of toast drifting up from the Great Hall. Gemini felt alive, her senses sharpened by excitement and the crispness of the early September air.

She and Harry were scheduled to meet Oliver Wood at midday for their first official Gryffindor Quidditch practice. The anticipation thrummed in her veins. She was already dressed in her school robes, though she'd swapped the usual black for a battered red jumper with a gold lion knitted across the front—a hand-me-down from her cousin Tonks. Her broomstick, a slightly scuffed but well-loved Cleansweep Seven, rested against her shoulder, and her wild mahogany curls were tied back in a messy ponytail that bounced with every step.

Harry was waiting for her in the common room, pacing nervously in front of the fireplace. He kept glancing at the clock above the mantel, as if worried it might suddenly leap forward and make them late. His own broom—a loaner from the school—was clutched in his hand, and his green eyes were wide with a mixture of excitement and terror.

Gemini grinned as she approached, her heart light. "Morning, Potter," she teased, dropping her bag onto an armchair and stretching her arms over her head. "You look like you haven't slept a wink."

Harry offered a sheepish smile, running a hand through his perpetually untidy hair. "I didn't, really. I kept dreaming I'd fall off my broom or crash into the Whomping Willow."

Gemini snorted, her laughter ringing through the empty common room. "Relax. The only thing you'll crash into is me, and I promise I'm much softer than a tree."

He laughed, but the tension in his shoulders remained. Gemini could see the nerves flickering behind his eyes, the way he chewed his bottom lip and shifted from foot to foot. She recognized the feeling—she'd felt it herself before her first flying lesson, before every big moment that mattered.

They made their way through the castle, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stones. The halls were beginning to fill with students heading to lunch, their voices a low hum of anticipation. Some glanced at Gemini and Harry with curiosity, whispering behind their hands. News traveled fast at Hogwarts, and everyone seemed to know that the two first years were about to make history.

As they stepped out onto the grounds, the sunlight bathed them in gold, warming their faces and making the dew on the grass sparkle like diamonds. The Quidditch pitch loomed ahead, its towering stands empty for now, the hoops casting long shadows across the field. Gemini inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of cut grass and the faint tang of broom polish.

Harry kept stealing glances at Gemini, his brow furrowed in thought. She caught him looking and raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

"What's on your mind, Harry?" she asked, her tone light.

Harry flushed, his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of pink. "Nothing. You just look... even more beautiful without makeup," he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper.