"𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙮"
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IN WHICH ~ Jupiter Cassiopeia Lestrange thought she could escape her family's dark legacy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but in her second year, Tom Riddle's diar...
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"And he looked at me like there was something worth looking at."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
-HARRY-
Harry spun faster and faster, elbows tucked tightly to his sides, the whirling fireplaces flashing past him in dizzying blurs. He clenched his jaw against the growing nausea and shut his eyes, hoping it would stop soon. Finally, as he felt himself slowing down, he threw his hands out to brace himself, skidding to a halt just in time to avoid a face-first tumble onto the Weasleys' kitchen floor.
"Did he eat it?" Fred asked eagerly, reaching down to pull Harry to his feet, his grin barely contained.
Harry straightened, steadying himself. "Yeah," he said, brushing some ash off his robes. "What was it?"
"Ton-Tongue Toffee," Fred said proudly. "George and I invented them. We've been looking for someone to test them on all summer..."
The tiny kitchen burst into laughter, and Harry's eyes roamed the cozy, familiar space. Ron and George were lounging at the scrubbed wooden table, laughing along with two red-haired men Harry hadn't seen before but instantly recognized—Bill and Charlie, the oldest Weasley brothers.
Yet, even with the lively scene before him, his thoughts slipped to someone else. Since the holidays began, he'd found himself thinking more and more about Jupiter. Her letters had become something he looked forward to with increasing anticipation. She wrote about her trips to Muggle London and, just last week, had sent him a copy of the photo of their parents she'd managed to make. He found himself staring at it a little too often, studying the familiar warmth in her mother's eyes—the same eyes Jupiter had inherited. Her letters always managed to evoke her voice, her laugh, her smile, and he was beginning to feel an odd, restless ache whenever he pictured her.
"How're you doing, Harry?" one of the brothers asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. The shorter, stockier one extended a hand, and Harry took it, surprised by the rough calluses beneath his fingers. This had to be Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania.
Charlie's broad, good-natured face was freckled and sun-worn, giving him a rugged, almost tanned look. Muscular arms hinted at his physical job, and Harry noticed a large, shiny burn on one of them—probably a memento from a dragon encounter.
Bill rose to his feet and offered his hand next. He was nothing like Harry had expected. Knowing Bill worked for Gringotts and had been Head Boy, Harry had assumed he'd be a bit like Percy—serious and strict. But Bill was, without a doubt, cool. Tall and lean, with long hair tied back and a fang earring, he looked more like a rock star than a banker. Even his dragon-hide boots added to his unorthodox look.
