Jupiter | Harry James Potter

x ; promises, promises

A/N

kinda short chapter, but trust you will be fed.

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Harry, Ron and I walked back to Gryffindor Tower as Hermione left to go to the library in a hurry. After every lesson, Hermione would take off towards the library with no explanation.

"Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harry asked as we ap- proached the Fat Lady.

"Yeah, probably," said Ron. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he? And Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later. Look at his dustbins. Balderdash."

I continued to stay silent out of the fear that if I opened my mouth, it might turn into sobs. The memory of Bellatrix's punishment remained in the front of my mind as if it had happened yesterday.

The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and we climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.

"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" Harry asked.

"I s'pose," Ron groaned. I just nodded, and they headed up to their dorm, while I hurried to mine and grabbed my copy of Unfogging the Future as quickly as possible. Any moment I spent alone pulled me closer to breaking into tears.

I found a table near the fireplace in the corner of the crowded common room and took my seat. I placed my head in my hands, covering my eyes with my fingers as I let a few tears fall to relieve the pain in my swollen eyes.

"Jupiter?" Harry's voice murmured as he sat next to me, and Ron took the chair across. "Are you alright?"

"I will be." I sniffed, wiping the tears from my burning cheeks as I opened my book. "Let's just get through this."

After an hour, the common room had grown loads quieter, but it still contained the occasional laughter and chatter from the few who weren't exactly tired yet. Our prediction charts were nowhere near accurate, but none of us seemed to care.

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight." Ron said, scribbling on his chart.

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet." Harry sighed, dipping his quill in more ink.

"I'll just win the bet, then." I shrugged.

"Yeah, you two'll be betting if I win or lose my fight." Ron snickered.

Just then, Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill. Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an
empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.
"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" Hermione asked. I put down my quill as I made my final prediction: I'll die by being burned at the stake on Friday.

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.