"𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙮"
-
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...
A/N thank you all so much for 50k reads! this means the world to me, and i am so grateful for everyone who interacts with my writing! <3333
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I know you want my touch for life, if you love me right then who knows? I might let you make me Juno."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"Ron, you look like you're about to pass out in your cereal," Jupiter said, kicking Ron's foot underneath the breakfast table in the Great Hall. He was staring straight down at it with pursed lips, wide eyes and green, sickly-looking skin.
"Tryouts won't be that bad, mate," Harry reassured him, his voice shaky as he tried to hold back a laugh at Ron's state. "I don't know what I'm doing, and you've already been on the team."
"That bad?" Ron gawked, finally pulling his terrified eyes up from the bowl below him. "That bad?" He repeated. "One wrong move and I'm off the team! Who knows whos gonna show up for my spot?"
"Maybe," Hermione chimed in from across the table, glancing at Ron over the top of her book, "but you know you've got more experience than anyone trying out today, and you saved nearly every goal during the cup. You're just psyching yourself out."
Ron didn't look comforted. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously across the table. "What if I trip over my own broom, or—or miss every shot?" He buried his face in his hands, groaning.
Jupiter leaned across the table, prodding him lightly with her fork. "Oh, come on. You don't trip over your broom unless Fred or George curse it. You'll be fine."
"But what if they did curse it at home?" Ron muttered, dropping his hands and casting a paranoid look up and down the table. "You know, for laughs?"
Ginny sauntered over just then, balancing her own breakfast plate and raising an eyebrow at Ron. "Don't tell me you're still getting jitters over tryouts? I'm telling you, if you don't pull yourself together, McLaggen's going to try and muscle his way into Keeper again. And he's not half as good as you are," she said, matter-of-factly.
Ron straightened up, suddenly looking even more nauseous. "McLaggen? He's trying out?"
"Probably," Ginny replied with a shrug, ignoring the panicked look on his face. "But you know he's awful at judging speed. I watched him nearly knock himself out running headlong into a goalpost last week. He's all muscle, no skill."
Harry grinned, shooting Ron an encouraging look. "See? No need to worry about McLaggen. Besides, Hermione's right; you've already proven yourself. You're solid."
With that, they all stood to head down to the pitch, and as they crossed the hall, Jupiter stood on her toes and draped her arm over Ron's shoulder. "Honestly, Ron, if you mess up, we'll all just boo at McLaggen until he cracks under the pressure. You'll have us as a backup."