SABAISM | H. POTTER

EIGHT. | GRYFFINDOR VS. SLYTHERIN

The Great Hall buzzed with energy as the Gryffindor Quartet sat anxiously at the breakfast table the next morning. The enchanted ceiling above was a swirling canvas of pale November clouds, sunlight streaming through the tall windows and painting golden stripes across the long tables. The hall was alive with the clatter of silverware, the flutter of owl wings, and the low hum of hundreds of students chattering in anticipation of the first Quidditch match of the season.

Harry sat slumped over his plate, absently stabbing his pancakes with the tip of his fork. He barely noticed the sweet aroma of syrup or the buttery warmth rising from his breakfast. His mind was elsewhere—on the match, on Snape's dark, watchful eyes, on the strange events that seemed to follow him since he'd arrived at Hogwarts.

Across from him, Hermione leaned in, her bushy hair haloed by a shaft of sunlight. She wore a look of concern, her brown eyes soft. "Come on, Harry. You'll need your strength for later," she coaxed gently.

Ron, meanwhile, was already halfway through a mountain of toast and sausages, but he paused long enough to nudge Harry's elbow. "Take a bit of toast, mate," he urged, his voice muffled by a mouthful of food. "You'll feel better."

Gemini, sitting beside Harry, was the picture of energy and appetite. She eagerly devoured a plate of crispy bacon, her silver eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched her friends. She licked a crumb from her finger and grinned. "Harry, if you eat something, I promise I'll kiss you on the cheek. Just a little peck. I want to win my first match, after all."

The effect was instantaneous; it was as if she had cast a charm. All heads at the table turned toward Harry as he suddenly began shoveling pancake after pancake into his mouth, syrup dripping down his chin. Gemini raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Merlin, Harry. I meant something to fill your stomach, not to make you sick!"

Harry flashed Gemini a sheepish smile, his cheeks flushed pink. He'd felt a spark ever since that shared hug a few days ago, and now he was desperate for another excuse to get close to her. There was something about her presence—her laughter, her confidence—that made him feel lighter, braver, as if he could face anything.

Sighing as if she couldn't help herself, Gemini leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Harry's cheek before returning to her breakfast. Harry froze mid-bite, his eyes wide, nearly choking on a mouthful of pancake. Ron's eyes widened in astonishment, and Hermione's lips twitched with a knowing smile.

At that moment, Professor Snape swept into the hall, his dark robes billowing behind him like a thundercloud. His sallow face was unreadable, but his black eyes glinted with something cold and calculating. He paused by the Gryffindor table, his gaze falling upon the Golden Quartet, and he drawled, "Good luck today, Potter. You as well, Black. Though, now that you've proven yourselves against a troll, this little game of Quidditch should be a piece of cake... even if it is against Slytherin." With that, he limped away toward the head table, his every movement radiating disdain.

"That's Lupin-Black!" Gemini called after him, irritation dancing in her silver eyes. "Honestly, after all this time together, he still doesn't know my name. No wonder he can't find a partner."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, but Harry quickly turned serious. He leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. "That explains the limp," he murmured, glancing after Snape. "Last night, I think Snape let the troll in as a distraction to get past that three-headed dog. He got himself bitten. That's why he's limping."

Gemini pondered this, her brow furrowing. "But why would anyone want to get near that dog?"

"Remember that day in Gringotts?" Harry said in a hushed voice. "Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. He mentioned it was Hogwarts business—very secretive. I think it's what the dog is guarding, and Snape wants it."