SABAISM | H. POTTER

THIRTEEN. | FACING VOLDEMORT PT.1

As the moon cast its silvery light over the ancient turrets and spires of Hogwarts, the castle seemed to breathe in the cool night air, its stones whispering secrets of centuries past. Shadows stretched long and thin across the hallowed halls, pooling in corners and dancing along the walls as the four Gryffindors crept down the winding, spiral stone staircase. Every step echoed in the silence, their hearts thudding in their chests—a chorus of excitement and trepidation.

Harry led the way, his emerald eyes glinting with determination beneath his unruly fringe, glasses reflecting the faint glow of torchlight. Ron followed close behind, his tall frame tense and awkward, ginger hair almost glowing in the moonlight. Hermione's bushy hair bounced with every cautious step, her face set with a mixture of worry and resolve. Gemini, her curls wild and untamed, moved with feline grace, her wand gripped tightly in her right hand, ready for anything.

The castle at night was a different world—alive with mysterious creaks, the distant hoot of an owl, and the ever-present sense that something unseen was watching. The four friends moved as quietly as they could, but their progress was halted abruptly by a sudden, unmistakable sound—a deep, throaty croak that resonated through the corridor.

"Trevor!" Harry exclaimed, his voice barely more than a whisper, but anxiety lacing every syllable. He spun around, scanning the shadows for the source of the sound.

"Shh! Quiet!" Ron hissed, his voice barely audible over the crackling of a nearby fire burning low in a wall sconce. His blue eyes darted nervously, and he instinctively pressed himself against the cold stone wall.

Gemini rolled her eyes, exasperation evident in every line of her face. "This is just great. We're going to be sold out by Neville's toad," she muttered, her tone a mix of annoyance and resignation. She could almost picture the headlines: 'Gryffindors Foiled by Amphibian Accomplice.'

Just then, a shadow detached itself from behind a battered old armchair. Neville Longbottom emerged, his round face pale and anxious, clutching Trevor to his chest. The firelight flickered across his features, casting him in dramatic relief.

"Neither should you," Neville said, his voice trembling but resolute. "You're sneaking out again, aren't you?"

The four friends exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering between them. Gemini couldn't help but admire the dramatic flair Neville exuded, standing there with his chin lifted, fists clenched, and Trevor squirming in his grasp.

"Now, Neville, listen—" Harry began, his voice soothing, trying to reason with their classmate.

"No! I won't let you!" Neville protested, stepping forward with surprising courage. "You'll get Gryffindor in trouble again. I—I'll fight you!" His voice cracked, but his determination was unwavering.

Gemini sighed, recognizing the futility of the situation. She stepped forward, her expression softening. "Look, Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this," she said sincerely. She raised her wand, her voice gentle but firm. "Petrificus Totalus!"

A jet of silvery light shot from her wand, striking Neville squarely in the chest. He froze, his arms snapping to his sides, legs locking together. With a soft thud, he toppled backward onto the thick, faded rug.

Ron stared, eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear. "You're a little scary sometimes," he gulped, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Brilliant but scary," Harry added, blinking in astonishment. He gave Gemini a swift nod. "Let's move."

They whispered hurried apologies to the immobilized boy as they passed. Gemini, unable to suppress her compassion, knelt beside Neville and gently slid a pillow under his head. "Say what you like, Ron. You really sound like a mother," she teased, glancing up with a wry smile. "There you go, Neville. You won't wake up with a crick in your neck. Don't worry; it only lasts a few minutes...maybe an hour at most."