"𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙚."
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IN WHICH ~ Jupiter Lestrange battles the haunting grip of Tom Riddle's malevolent diary as she unravels long-buried truths about her family, herself, and her growing feelings...
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"Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if it's not in the way we expected."
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"Professor Trelawney just told me—" Jupiter burst into the nearly deserted common room, her voice tight with urgency as she hurried toward Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were huddled together, eyes on a letter.
Ron looked up, his face twisted with anger. He handed the letter to Jupiter, his hand trembling. "This came from Hagrid," he said.
Jupiter's stomach dropped as she read the familiar, scrawled handwriting:
Execution's set for sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. Don't want you to see it.
—Hagrid
"We've got to go!" Jupiter argued, her voice rising. "Hagrid can't be alone."
"Sunset, though," Ron sighed, slumping back against the arm of the sofa. "We'd never be allowed, especially you and Harry."
"If only we had the cloak," Harry muttered, burying his face in his hands.
Hermione's gaze sharpened, and Jupiter could practically see the lightbulb flashing above her head. "Harry, how do you open the statue?"
Harry looked up, a bit surprised. "You tap it and say 'Dissendium,' but—"
Before he could finish, Hermione had already darted through the portrait hole, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Fifteen minutes later, Hermione returned, her expression triumphant, the silvery cloak tucked carefully under her robes.
"Hermione, what's gotten into you lately?" Ron gawked, a flicker of admiration in his voice. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney..."
Hermione's lips curled into a small, proud smile as Ron beamed at her.
The cloak barely covered the four of them, and walking so close to Harry made Jupiter's pulse quicken, though having Ron pressed up against her other shoulder took the edge off. Their footsteps were soft on the grassy path as the sun began its descent, casting a warm, orange glow over the grounds.
When they reached Hagrid's cabin, Harry knocked. The door creaked open, and Hagrid's bearded face appeared, looking drawn and pale.
"Hagrid, it's us," Harry whispered, and Hagrid jumped slightly before ushering them inside.
"Yeh shouldn' of come!" Hagrid hissed, glancing anxiously over their shoulders as he closed the door. "Wan' some tea?"
Hagrid's eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and his massive hands shook as he reached for the kettle, spilling a bit of water in the process.
