SABAISM | H. POTTER

NINE. | THE VOICES

"Bloody hell," George Weasley moaned out in pain; his hands desperately cradling his now bruised cheek, which had been left a vivid shade of purple contrasting sharply against his fair skin. Just moments before the unfortunate collision that led to this unfortunate event, the Weasley twins had embarked on what they considered a spirited quest to locate their enigmatic friend, Gemini Lupin-Black. They had found her lounging on a sun-drenched windowsill in the quietness of the fifth corridor, her nose buried deeply in a novel filled with tales that whisked her away to distant realms.

Truth be told, when Gemini was lost in the pages of her book, she revealed an entirely different side of herself—a gentle, sweet demeanor that seemed to be shaped more by the genteel Lupin genes that ran through her veins than by the mischievous streak her companions had grown accustomed to. In those moments of tranquility, one might hardly recognize the feisty young woman who frequently quipped and pranked with precision, always ready with a quick-witted retort.

As the twins approached, they appreciated her blissful distraction, exchanging teasing looks before launching at her in a coordinated ambush, hoping to catch her off guard. However, the lilting laughter erupted from their lips turned to stunned silence as Gemini let out a startled cry and reacted on pure instinct, delivering a powerful punch that landed squarely on George's cheek. Now, the unfortunate consequence of their jovial surprise had left George wincing in pain, a striking post-punch starburst of color blossoming rapidly beneath the freckles on his face, turning it into a comical galaxy of expression.

"Goodness, Georgie! I would apologize, but I have endlessly warned you both to not do that. You never learn," she chided, her voice tinged with mock exasperation. As her eyes flickered to his blackening bruise, a pinprick of guilt formed in her chest—a fleeting moment that swiftly dissipated amidst the bubbling effervescence of her mischief-loving spirit. Fred could hardly contain his laughter, the sound ringing out loudly in contrast to his brother's pained grumbling. It was evident he had managed to escape injury for once, and the pleasure he derived from George's plight was palpable.

"Shut up, Gred! She can pack a punch," George retorted, feigning indignation while trying to suppress a grimace. "Gem, we only went off to find you because we need to prank outside of our regular schedule. Merlin, we just thought it'd be, you know, off character of us to lamely walk up to you before setting out on an adventure."

The initial flicker of guilt sparked within Gemini was quickly extinguished, replaced with a bubbling enthusiasm that began to rise within her like yeast in a well-made dough. "You should have just started off with that! Well, tell me what we are doing today," she urged, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The two Weasleys exchanged identical, goofy grins before launching into their plan, reveling in her infectious energy; it was as if she had been destined to be their triplet all along.

"Right. This evening we are going after Filch. He's got our map and we need it back," Fred began, his tone serious but laced with enthusiasm.

Ah, yes—the Marauder's Map. A treasure of Hogwarts, albeit one that had become the apple of Filch's eye, a squib who had cornered the boys into surrendering it far too easily. The twins had introduced the map to her last year after she playfully dyed Professor Snape's hair an outrageous bubblegum pink. They believed her worthy of knowing about the enchanted parchment, a creation of her very own parents and their friends during their school years. It was a secret she kept close to her chest, treasuring the connection it offered her to her heritage.

Gemini raised an eyebrow. "You idiots! How did he get it back?" she questioned, her indignation genuine. They had already been through this escapade far too many times; the map was fast becoming a relic of tug-of-war between the trio and Filch.