"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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"May the hard things we endure only make us more gentle."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
-JUPITER-
As the weather grew colder and December drew nearer, Jupiter became more hopeful that her quest would remain unsuccessful, though the idea of Draco's ticking clock loomed over her mind like a dark cloud waiting to strike.
The days blurred together, cold and distant, like the world was closing in on her. Despite everything, there was a flicker of hope—a tiny, stubborn ember she clung to. The war had yet to end, and she was determined not to be another casualty of it.
She glanced at the horizon, her breath visible in the chill of the evening air. Her heart, though heavy with the weight of her decisions, still beat with resolve. Voldemort may be watching, but she wouldn't let him control her, not without a fight.
Godric's Hollow.
It was the one place Harry would never willingly go. She knew that much. He wouldn't be foolish enough to return there; it was too obvious, too connected to his past. The place where it all began—the very site of his parents' deaths. Voldemort would expect him to seek solace there, to try to uncover more of his history, to seek out the answers he didn't have. But Harry wasn't that naive. He would never willingly walk into the lion's den. Hermione wouldn't let him.
At least, that was what Jupiter told herself.
She couldn't stay in one place too long. If she did, Voldemort would notice. He would learn that something wasn't quite right, and he would tighten his grip on her even more. No, she needed to move. Quickly, decisively. And though Godric's Hollow seemed too obvious, it was the perfect place to fool Voldemort. The very last place Harry would go, but the first place his enemies would expect.
Jupiter took a deep breath, focusing her mind. The familiar sensation of Apparition swirled around her, the magic tugging at her like a hidden current pulling her into the unknown. With a sharp snap, the world around her spun, disorienting her for a brief moment before she felt solid ground beneath her feet.
The air smelled of damp earth and the crispness of winter's approach. She had arrived.
Godric's Hollow was eerily quiet, the landscape bathed in the pale light of the moon. It was a village frozen in time, as if it had been untouched by the war, untouched by the darkness that loomed over the world. The small cottages were still and silent, their windows darkened as if no one had lived here for decades.
But she knew better.
She stepped lightly across the cobblestone streets, her footsteps muffled by the snow that had begun to fall. She moved carefully, her eyes scanning the surroundings, constantly aware of how vulnerable she was. Every crack of a twig, every rustle in the trees made her jump. Voldemort's influence was everywhere, and it was suffocating.
