SABAISM | H. POTTER

TWO. | SOUL SUCKING

At thirteen years of age, Gemini had grown accustomed to the tenacious, almost ominous focus she received from the magic folk that surrounded her, all ages subsumed under their wary eyes. Yet, the perceptible gasps that rippled through the crowd as she strode into the bustling scene at Platform 9¾ were an untrodden extension of that scrutiny. It was clear they had all become acutely aware of her mother's audacious escape, and it was even more evident that they harbored suspicions about her own potential for "ill intent." What did they suppose? That Mummy breaking free meant the girl would embark upon a similar path of treachery? What nonsense, cluster of twits.

Disregarding the collective eyes that bore into her like a pack of wolves circling a solitary gazelle; the girl confidently waltzed through the parted crowd at Platform 9¾, her chin held high in stubborn defiance. Gemini's unwavering strut was a challenge to any unspoken remarks that might ricochet off the walls of their minds; she executed her ingress across the platform with a fluid grace that surprised even herself. Though solicitous ideations still consumed her brain, twirling like a tempest in the back of her mind, her outward exterior remained an impenetrable facade while she awaited the entrance to the beloved Hogwarts Express. Admittedly, it was rather surprising that a multitude of insults were not hurled in her direction; perhaps they were that terrified of a mere child, they dared not provoke the daughter of a notorious escapee.

Just as she was preparing to board the Hogwarts Express to reunite with her father and friends; Draco Malfoy's taunting voice sliced through the tense silence that followed in her wake. She had been so close to elusive serenity. "Black," the platinum-haired boy sneered, swaggering forth like a peacock displaying its plumage, "You're doing alright then?" The Gryffindor cast a disdainful glance down at her cousin; antipathy radiated clearly from her stormy gaze, but deep within her silver orbs, there also flickered a hint of unexpected sympathy.

"Draco," she cooed, her voice dripping with a honeyed sweetness laced with sarcasm, "Would you like to put me down in an attempt to elevate your own stature? Are these jeers part of some ill-advised endeavor to feel more like a 'Malfoy'? I'll let you in on a little secret, dear cousin: acting as yourself is infinitely liberating; do yourself a favor and stop trying to bottle it all up. You know exactly what I mean." She allowed a small, mocking pause before adding, "Oh, and to answer your question, Malfoy, the young Lupin-Black is particularly fine today. Thanks for asking." She couldn't help but assume that the boy was secretly grateful his usual entourage of minions was nowhere to be seen during that interaction. No matter how much enmity bubbled beneath her surface towards the false persona he constructed, she'd never be cruel enough to outright expose him. Now, that certainly didn't mean her recurring jabs were off the table; especially considering that he continued to lead Fred Weasley on like a puppet on strings.

Draco's typically pale face flushed a deep carmine, the color of ripe crimson berries. "So, Black," he snarled, the words dripping with contempt as he attempted to draw attention back to their tense exchange, "I've been meaning to ask... do you have any severed fingers locked up somewhere? You know what they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Maybe if she hadn't already made the resolute decision to abandon her tendency to sulk... maybe then his outburst could have penetrated her carefully constructed armor. Instead; a wicked smirk curled across Gemini's features, one that spoke of well-rehearsed retorts and hidden daggers.

"Yeah, actually," she retorted with an air of mock candor; causing the onlooking eavesdroppers nearby to lose color in their faces, "It's just the one, though." Before Draco could fully comprehend the implications of her nonsensical admission, her glimmering, ring-clad middle finger shot up defiantly for all to see. An undignified choke escaped his throat, muffled and disbelieving.

"Oh, and Draco," Gemini leaned in closer, invading her cousin's personal space, "If the apple doesn't fall far from the tree... well, with all the kneeling your father demonstrated for Voldemort, it's no wonder you've become quite the champ at being on your knees." Her silver optics sparkled with mischievous delight as she turned on her heel, a whirlwind of defiance, rushing onto the train, leaving Draco paralyzed, mouth agape in utter shock.