"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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"We understand death only after it has placed its hands on somebody we love."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
-HARRY-
The castle was eerily still. The chaos of battle was gone—no flashes of light, no thunderous explosions, no desperate cries. The bloodstained flagstones in the abandoned entrance hall bore silent witness to the horrors that had unfolded. Shattered emeralds glittered amongst the rubble—broken marble, splintered wood, and the jagged remnants of the banister, which had been blasted apart.
The Great Hall was unrecognizable. The House tables had vanished, leaving the space crowded with survivors huddled together, arms draped over one another in shared grief. On the raised platform, Madam Pomfrey worked tirelessly with a group of helpers to tend to the wounded. Firenze lay among them, his flank dark with blood, trembling and unable to rise.
In the center of the Hall lay the dead, lined up in a grim row. Harry couldn't see Fred's body through the huddle of Weasleys surrounding him. George knelt by his brother's head, while Mrs. Weasley draped herself over Fred's chest, her body shaking with inconsolable sobs. Beside her, Mr. Weasley stroked her hair, his face streaked with tears that fell silently, endlessly.
Without speaking to Harry, Ron and Hermione slipped away. Harry watched as Hermione approached Ginny, whose tear-streaked face was swollen and red, and pulled her into a tight embrace. Ron joined Bill, Fleur, and Percy, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders. As Ginny and Hermione moved closer to the family, Harry's gaze was drawn past them, and he caught sight of the bodies lying next to Fred.
Remus and Tonks. They looked so peaceful, as though they were simply resting beneath the bewitched ceiling, the stars twinkling softly above them.
The Hall spun around Harry, shrinking into itself, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp. He staggered back from the doorway, unable to hold himself upright. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't bear it. The thought of seeing the rest of the bodies—the full toll of lives lost because of him—was unthinkable.
He could not bring himself to face the Weasleys, not now, not when he could still feel the weight of his own failure pressing down on him. If he had surrendered sooner, Fred might have lived. Others might have lived.
His chest ached as he turned his gaze away, refusing to take in any more of the scene. He would not look at the rest. He could not. He wasn't sure his heart could survive it. He needed to find Jupiter, he figured she'd be helping Madam Pomfrey seeing as she wasn't at Lupin's side.
A hand grabbed his shoulder just as he turned away, causing him to instinctively jump. "Harry," said Hermione, her grip on him constricting. He faced her to see that her eyes were red and swollen, and she appeared as if she had a secret to confess.
