"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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"Adventure begins at the end of the roads we know."
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"Harry!" Jupiter hissed, holding a flickering candle inches from his face. Shadows danced across his features as he twisted and shuddered in his sleep, lost in yet another nightmare. She knew this feeling all too well; he was dreaming of Voldemort.
"Are you okay?" she whispered urgently.
His eyes snapped open, and he jolted upright, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to orient himself. His hand fumbled across the nightstand for his glasses, which he finally shoved onto his face. Blinking, he squinted at her as if he wasn't quite sure who she was.
"Oh. Jupiter." He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing.
"Did you seriously not know it was me?" she asked with a slight laugh, retreating just a bit to give him space.
"'M blind," he muttered, still groggy.
"Wake up!" Hermione's sharp whisper came from the other side of the room, where she stood at Ron's bedside. She leaned in close, candle in hand, practically inches from his face. "Wake up, Ronald!"
Ron tossed and turned, groaning under his breath. Hermione gave him a firm shove, causing him to jolt awake, wide-eyed as he stared at her.
"Bloody hell!" he yelped, grabbing at his Chudley Cannons blanket to cover his bare chest.
"Honestly, get dressed," Hermione snapped, placing her candle on his nightstand. Harry rubbed his scar, wincing.
"Voldemort?" Jupiter asked softly, catching his gaze, and he nodded.
"Come on, Ron!" Hermione barked from the doorway. "Your mother has breakfast ready!"
Ron rolled his eyes, mumbling something unintelligible, and collapsed back into his bed.
"Get up!" Jupiter ordered, grabbing a pillow and swatting him over the head.
"Ow!" he whined. "I thought you'd be nicer than her."
"You thought wrong, Weasley," she smirked, tossing the pillow aside and striding out.
In the kitchen, Ginny slumped into a chair, rubbing her eyes. "Why do we have to be up so early?"
"We've got a bit of a walk," Mr. Weasley said brightly, barely looking up from the Daily Prophet as he sipped his tea. The whole room let out a collective groan, Jupiter and Hermione included.
"Walk?" Harry asked as Mrs. Weasley piled his plate with bacon. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"
Mr. Weasley chuckled. "No, no, that's miles away. We only need to walk a short way. But it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to gather without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup—"
