Avery and Mulciber watched the figure emerging from the shadows, their hearts trembling slightly. "What do you want?"
Gloria raised her injured hand. "Don't you know that doing stupid things comes with a price?"
At these words, a momentary flicker of fear crossed their eyes. Desperate to hide it, they deliberately raised their voices, shouting at her in the hope that someone might hear. "Aren't you afraid of being caught by the professors?!"
Gloria frowned and raised her wand. "Quietus."
With the Quietening Charm, the two boys instantly noticed how faint their voices had become. They exchanged a panic-stricken look, realizing for the first time the true, lingering terror of the situation. Gloria said offhandedly, "How could I be? Unlike you lot, I'm not foolish enough to bully people without bothering to cover my tracks."
"Aren't you worried we'll tell the professors and get you punished?!" Avery snarled. His voice was barely a squeak, but he tried to roar it anyway to warn her and to mask his own reluctant fear.
Gloria stared at the two of them and let out a dry, scornful laugh, as if she had just heard some colossal joke. "Does your family teach you nothing besides arrogance and conceit? Do you actually dare go running to the professors? Confess without being asked? Go on, then."
"Tell the professors what you did—bullying a classmate with dark curses. That's ironclad proof; they'll find out for sure."
"Do you know you've already exhausted the patience of everyone in Slytherin? If the professors find out you also accidentally injured a fellow housemate—given how much Professor Slughorn values me—how many points do you suppose will be deducted because of you?"
Indeed, Slughorn, Head of Slytherin House and Hogwarts's Potions master, was a thoroughly shrewd man who placed special importance on students with exceptional grades and illustrious family backgrounds. This was an open secret throughout Slytherin.
"When you've swallowed a bitter pill, why broadcast it to the world? Besides, who in Slytherin is going to pick a fight with the Sisyphus family's heir apparent on your account? Isn't it better to leave yourselves a way out? What possible good does offending me do you?"
"Whether from the standpoint of your family's interests or my own, it's just... utterly foolish."
With that, she pointed her wand at them. "Silencio."
Avery and Mulciber were now completely silenced.
The Full Body-Bind Curse? No—the Silence Charm!
That was a fifth-year spell, yet she wielded it with such fluency.
With a flick of her wand, Gloria cast the Multi-Strike Curse to summon a barrage of sharp feathers that pierced them all over. The boys tried to scream, but not a sound came out. Stinging Jinxes erupted across their backs and hands, only to be casually treated with a hasty mending charm.
Again and again, the process repeated three times before Gloria finally stopped. She looked down at the two shivering wrecks, their eyes filled with terror and supplication. A flicker of something crossed Gloria's gaze.
Wretched screams, worthless tears, and blood pooling on the floor—the memories crashed over Gloria with overwhelming force. She gripped her wand with white-knuckled intensity, cast one last glance at the pair, and lifted all the curses.
"Get lost."
Gloria paid no further attention to the two figures scrambling away in a panic. She covered her eyes, desperately fighting to keep herself from reliving those ugly remnants of the past. She crouched down, enveloped by the darkness, silent and still. Flashes of imagery crossed her mind, though they soon faded into nothingness save for a stretch of cold, empty stone wall.
Suddenly, she fell into an embrace—a warm embrace. Gloria froze. The comfort it offered made her feel a reluctant sense of attachment and reliance. Without raising her head, she instinctively reached out and clutched at a fold of fabric. She was always unable to hold onto anything; it had always been that way, which was why she feared joy in any form. Yet she had been lonely for so long, and this time, she wanted to grasp hold of something, to keep it.
"Sirius Black."
Gloria named the person before her without hesitation. She knew it was him. It was bizarre, yet undeniably true.
She could always recognize him.
The darker the place, the brighter the stars shone.
Sirius didn't answer. He simply tightened his arms around her in silence. He had no idea what had happened to Gloria, knowing only that right now, she was fragile.
She possessed a helplessness he had never imagined. A feather-light kiss brushed against Gloria's hair, masked by the shadows.
Sirius had stolen a second kiss from the girl he liked.
He wanted to listen—to hear her voice, to hear her vent her grievances, her hurts, and her sadness.
Yet he was a Gryffindor; he could display his bravery openly, but the person in his arms could not.
After an unknown length of time, Gloria opened her eyes, rubbed her cheek lightly against Sirius's neck, and withdrew from his embrace. Sirius took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
"I'll walk you back, Si—" Sirius paused for a fraction of a second, looking into her eyes as he said her name. "Gloria."
Gloria started slightly. She neither rebuked him nor answered, simply turning to walk forward in silence. Sirius followed behind, his gaze fixed entirely on her. For a fleeting moment, he wished this path would stretch on endlessly, longer and longer still.
Only when they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room did he stop, intending to watch her go inside before leaving. Gloria stood by the door and said his name once more.
"Sirius."
This time, she dropped the surname.
"See you tomorrow."
As he walked down the corridor, the smile on Sirius's face was impossible to suppress. It was a magnificent beginning.
Sunlight once more bathed the entirety of Hogwarts, though Gloria had not expected that following her psychological torment of Avery and Mulciber, news would reach her that the two boys had been beaten half to death and thrown into the Hospital Wing. She paused mid-page, looking up at Beverly with a blank expression of bewilderment. But as she thought back to the person who had abruptly appeared last night, a single eyebrow arched upward in sudden comprehension.
Gloria's guess was correct. This was indeed the handiwork of two members of the Marauders, who had stumbled across the two bruised and battered wrecks wandering near the Slytherin common room.
Though curious as to who shared their antipathy toward the pair and had enacted private revenge, they hadn't simply let them go on account of their miserable state. Instead, with a tacit understanding, they had put away their wands and chosen to dish out some old-fashioned physical justice.
Then, showing a rare burst of mercy, they had dumped the two semi-conscious boys right outside the Hospital Wing. On his way back, Sirius had happened to cross paths with Gloria, and he had sent James ahead so he could seek out the young girl dwelling in his thoughts. He was endlessly grateful for that decision.
He figured he now knew whose handiwork that act of retaliation had been: a helpless little viper.
As the new week began, the Marauders stopped hunting for trouble. Instead, they constantly huddled together to scheme about something. During Herbology in particular, a Hufflepuff student swore that they were staring hard enough to burn holes straight through the Mandrakes. The student glanced from the Mandrakes to the notorious Marauders, utterly bewildered as to what could possibly be so fascinating about the plants. Were they edible? Decorative? The poor badger didn't understand and decided to keep well away.
During the final Herbology class of the day, Professor Sprout asked Elodie and Gloria to stay behind to help. Once they finished and started back, Gloria doubled back to retrieve a book she had left behind—never expecting to stumble upon such a bizarre scene.
The rest of the students were already in the Great Hall eating dinner, yet here, right by the doorway of the greenhouse, the infamous Marauders were piled up in a precarious stack. Gloria remembered that Mandrakes were kept right near the entrance, so were they... trying to steal plants?
A spark of mischief glinted in Gloria's eyes. She softened her footsteps, crept quietly closer, and spoke up just as Sirius and James were about to reach for the leaves.
"What are you lot doing here?"
Hearing the familiar voice, Sirius froze, his body stiffening as he took an involuntary step back. James, thrown off balance by his guilt, stumbled backward from Sirius's retreat and slammed right into Peter Pettigrew. Peter let out a gasp of pain, lost his footing, and went crashing to the floor, dragging James down with him. Remus, standing at the very back, tried to lurch forward to catch them, only to be bowled over in a tangled heap.
In the end, apart from Sirius at the front and Remus at the rear, the other two ended up flat on their backs.
Gloria surveyed the wreckage before her, fighting hard to press down the corners of her mouth, though her eyes brimmed with irrepressible amusement. She looked down at the boy standing directly in front of her with a smiling expression.
"Cough, cough. Sirius... and Potter, what sort of performance are you putting on here?"
She didn't use the other two's first names or surnames; after all, she was only well-acquainted with these two.
The moment she finished speaking, James—flat on his back on the floor—opened his eyes wide. He stared in shock at Gloria, then turned to gawk at Sirius, his expression a comical mix of intense gossip, envy, and astonishment. He shot Sirius a look that practically shouted:
*No way, mate! What did you do? It's only been a single night, and you're already on a first-name basis?! What on earth happened last night?!*
Sirius looked slightly guilty. He didn't particularly want to lie to the girl he liked, but this secret was of monumental importance; he couldn't speak of it.
In truth, even if they said nothing, Gloria knew it was a secret best kept under wraps. She hadn't expected an answer to her question anyway—it clearly had something to do with that pot of plants.
So, after asking, Gloria simply walked past them to retrieve her book, paused, and threw a glance back at Sirius.
"I'd imagine you lot know that if you want Mandrake leaves, you shouldn't touch their roots. I really don't want to wake up tomorrow to the news that the Marauders have checked themselves into the Hospital Wing. That would be far too embarrassing, wouldn't it?"
Gloria offered an offhand smile. In truth, she wouldn't mind seeing such a sight—it sounded rather amusing, after all.
Still, she had no intention of letting these boys discover her petty streak of mischief. Besides, wonder what was for dinner in the Great Hall? Oh, Bailey must have saved her a plate.
Gloria walked toward the Great Hall, lost in thought, while behind her, the three young men stared at one another in mutual bewilderment. Was that... a false alarm?
As for why there were only three—
Well, you certainly couldn't expect Sirius to participate in a group discussion among his mates while Gloria was still within sight.
Acting as though a sudden thought had struck him, James slung an arm around Sirius's shoulders and demanded with feigned indignation, "Confess. How on earth did you get so close to a Sisyphus? I'm not even on a first-name basis with Evans yet!"
Sirius gave him a look of supreme disdain, batted his arm away, and wore an expression of smug pride.
"That's called natural talent."
With those words, he successfully plucked three leaves, exchanged a glance with James, and pressed onward past Peter's timid gaze and Remus's worried look.
Grinning broadly, James bumped fists with Sirius. "First official Marauder operation—complete success! Come on, Remus! Let's go sort out that little furry problem of ours."
"Are we really sure about this? It's just... so dangerous."
"Oh, stop worrying. We're the Marauders!"
"Yeah, how cool is this?"
"Do I really have to take part? This... this really is pretty dangerous."
"Don't you dare chicken out on us, Peter!"
The four youths vanished into the distance amid the chatter of the setting sun, their red cloaks billowing behind them—the very picture of youthful vitality and untamed spirit. It would become, within the limited span of their futures, an eternal memory.