"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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"A lot of people will look at you, but only a few will see you."
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"Hey, Jove!" A familiar voice called from behind as Jupiter sat slumped on the couch in the common room, idly poking her Divination homework. She looked up to see Naomi, who was practically dragging Christina Farraway down from the dormitory with a gleeful grin.
"Hey. Where are you two off to?" Jupiter asked, pushing aside her half-hearted attempts at inventing creative ways she could meet her demise. It was a lot less fun making up fake fortunes without Ron and Harry. She guessed they'd gone to Hagrid's or were somewhere outside—anywhere but here, thankfully. Harry was the last person she wanted to see.
"It's nearly seven! The feast has already started, and the champion selection is about to begin. Are you coming?" Naomi said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Er—yeah!" Jupiter said, quickly standing up from the couch. She'd been hiding from Harry longer than she'd realized. "Mind if I sit with you guys?"
Naomi nodded enthusiastically as they started toward the portrait hole.
"What, did you and Potter break up?" Christina asked with a smirk as they clambered out.
Jupiter nearly choked. "Er—we were never together. I just... don't want to be near him right now, if that's alright."
"You're always welcome to sit with us," Naomi said, smiling warmly and elbowing Christina in the side. "Right, Chris?"
"Yeah, I suppose," Christina muttered, nimbly hopping over one of the trick steps. Christina and Naomi were an odd match as best friends—Jupiter had never met two people more opposite, except maybe Ron and Hermione.
"I appreciate it," Jupiter said with a laugh as they stepped into the Great Hall. The tables were already filled with food, and the Goblet of Fire had been moved to a grand spot in front of Dumbledore's chair, its blue flame dancing mysteriously. Fred and George, thankfully clean-shaven again, seemed to be taking their failed entry attempt well, happily collecting bets from students on who would be chosen.
"Ooh, I hope it's Angelina!" Naomi said as they sat down at the end of the table, far from Jupiter's usual spot. The change felt strange, as though the whole Hall had subtly shifted. Despite her appreciation for Naomi's company, she couldn't help but miss the usual seats by Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"It better be her," Christina muttered, resting her chin on her hand. "I'd transfer to Durmstrang if a Slytherin got picked. Or worse, a Hufflepuff. Can you imagine how unbearable Cora would be if Diggory actually got chosen?"
"Oh, very insufferable," Naomi said nonchalantly, smoothing a napkin over her lap. "Still, I'd quite like to see Diggory as champion. He's already brilliant on a broom, so he'd be incredible in the tournament, I bet. What about you, Jove?"
