SABAISM | H. POTTER

TEN. | BACK TO HOGWARTS

Gemini had always enjoyed reading, but only when it was for pleasure or curiosity. If a book didn't spark her interest, the words seemed to crawl across the page, slow and torturous, as if the sentences themselves were rebelling against being read. The Hogwarts library, with its towering shelves and the faint scent of parchment and dust, was usually a sanctuary for her—a place to lose herself in stories and secrets. But today, the atmosphere was thick with reluctant engagement. The four Gryffindors sat hunched over their textbooks at a heavy oak table, each struggling with their own distractions.

The lamps overhead cast golden pools of light on the wood, illuminating the spines of ancient tomes and the occasional drifting speck of dust. The silence was punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages, the occasional scratch of a quill, and Madam Pince's sharp gaze as she patrolled the aisles like a hawk.

Harry found himself too distracted by Gemini's beauty to focus on the text in front of him. He'd been staring at the same paragraph for at least ten minutes, the words blurring together as his eyes drifted across the table. Gemini sat opposite him, her hair twisted up in its familiar knot—her wand poked through the mahogany curls, keeping them at bay. Yet, a few rebellious strands always managed to escape, falling across her brow and flirting with her eyes whenever she bent over her book. When she concentrated, her nose scrunched up in the most adorable way, and Harry found himself captivated by the sight.

Her uniform was rumpled, but she wore it with such effortless charm that it seemed intentional—a fashion statement rather than carelessness. Her tie was loose, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and her skirt slightly askew. She looked as if she'd just tumbled out of bed and into a whirlwind of magic, and Harry couldn't help but think she was the most enchanting girl he'd ever seen.

He was caught in the act of admiring her when she suddenly looked up, her eyes meeting his across the table. Harry's cheeks flushed a deep, mortifying red, and he fumbled for something to say, desperate to cover his embarrassment.

"Uh... I wanted to say thank you for the Christmas presents," he blurted, his voice awkward and too loud in the hush of the library. "They were really great."

A warm smile spread across Gemini's face, her eyes crinkling with genuine pleasure. "I'm glad you liked them!" she replied, her voice soft and sincere.

Before Harry could say more, Ron's voice broke in with exaggerated enthusiasm, shattering the delicate moment. "I can't believe I now have all the trading cards!" he exclaimed, waving a handful of chocolate frog cards. "Fred and George were so jealous!"

Gemini snorted in laughter, the sound bright and infectious. "Well, they shouldn't be. I gave them some amazing gifts too." She winked, and Harry felt a familiar pang of dread twist in his gut. Why had she given George a present? She didn't spend nearly as much time with the twins as she did with him and Ron. Was there something he was missing?

Before his thoughts could spiral, Hermione stormed over, a large leather-bound book in her arms. She dropped it onto the table with a loud, resounding thud that startled everyone within a ten-foot radius. A cloud of dust rose from the cover, and Madam Pince shot them a murderous glare from across the room.

"I should've had you looking in the right section all along!" Hermione declared, her cheeks flushed with triumph. "I checked this out for some light reading."

"Light?" Ron grimaced, eyeing the hefty volume as if it might bite. The book was nearly as thick as his forearm, its spine creaking ominously as Hermione opened it.

Hermione shot him a withering look. "Of course! Listen to this: 'Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!'"

Confused, Ron and Harry shared a glance, their brows furrowing in unison. "The what?" they echoed, their voices blending together in perfect synchrony.