❝𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝.❞
Jupiter Black has been isolated from the outside world her entire life up until the age of thirteen. During a duel with her mother, Jupiter tragically witnesses her death and flees from h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 9
I WALK QUIETLY OUT OF MY DORM. I hold my hand on the banister and be careful to make no noise. I meet Harry where the spiral stairs join and we walk down quietly, arms pressing together with each step. My stomach flutters. I swallow. Harry takes my cold hand, interlocking our fingers.
He brushes his thumb against my index finger, it makes me straighten my back. I bite my tongue to stop my hair turning pink. What is he doing to me? We make it to the bottom step and Harry whispers out Sirius' name.
I spot two newspapers on the coffee table, one page with Harry's face on it and the other with my own. I grab the one with my face on it, opening the folded paper.
Jupiter Blackage Twelve, begging for recognition from her rival- Harry Potter! Her eyes filled with jealousy at the attention he's been having, whilst she's had none— her rage against the boy known from her traumatic past as her father is the notorious murderer Sirius Black! Will she set to finish what her father started?
I tug Harry along with me and throw the newspaper into the fire as my hair turns red in rage. "I hate that woman." I grit out and the fire hisses out. My gaze snaps to it, frowning with my head tilting. I move to crouch down in front of it, watching as my father's face burns itself onto the logs.
"Sirius? How—?" Harry gets cut off. "I don't have much time, so let me get straight to it. Did you or did you not put your names into the Goblet of Fire?" I shake my head. "No, my handwriting was forged, I think it was Karkaroff... or Moody." I say to my father, and Harry's head snaps towards mine at the mention of our teacher.
"Now tell me about this dream of yours. You both mentioned Wormtail and Voldemort." He says to the both of us. "But who was the third man in the room?" Sirius asks and I recall the memory in my mind. Memories of the Quidditch World Cup linger, and the man who casted the Dark Mark.
"He casted the Dark Mark. I don't know his name, but he looks similar to..." I trail off but sigh, it can't be. I can't possibly be right. "Voldemort was giving him a job to do. Something important." Harry tells him, holding my hand still. "And what was that?" Sirius asks.
"He wanted... us. I don't know why. He was gonna use this man to get to us." Sirius is silent. "But, I mean, it was only a dream, right?" I shake my head. "Can't have been if I had the exact same one." Sirius throws me a look from the fireplace.
"Look, the Death Eaters at the World Cup, your names rising from that Goblet these are not just coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore." He whispers out. "What are you saying?" Harry asks him. "I'm saying the devils are inside the walls. Igor Karkaroff? He was a Death Eater. And no one, no one stops being a Death Eater."
No one stops being a Death Eater.
"Then there's Barty Crouch. Heart of stone. Sent his own son to Azkaban." A door opens in the distance and my head snaps to the noise. "I think one of them put our names in the Goblet. And I still think Professor Moody is suspicious, he openly told the class that I survived the three unforgivable curses, but how would he know?"
"How would he know that they were used on me? No one knows except people I trust to know." I can hear footsteps. "I haven't any idea who put your names in the Goblet. But who ever did is no friend to you. People die in this tournament." Harry swallows harshly.
"I'm not ready for this, Sirius." He tells him. "You don't have a choice." My father says to him, looking between us, then at our joined hands. Shoes run down the stairs quickly. "Someone's coming." I mumble and hear footsteps approaching quickly down the stairs.
"Promise me you'll keep each other safe?" Sirius says to us and I nod. "I promise." I tell him and Harry agrees with a squeeze of my hand. We move away from the fireplace. "Who were you talking to?" Ron asks Harry. "Me." I say to the ginger.
"Who else?" I ask him. "I heard voices, another voice." Ron tells us, wrapping his dressing gown around his body. "Maybe you're imagining things. Wouldn't be the first time." Harry says to him. "You're probably just practicing for your next interview, I expect." I scoff and fold my arms over my chest.
My hand chills from the lack of Harry's touch. "Yeah because we have nothing better to do than to get slandered by Rita Skeeter." I say her name with disgust and he scoffs, walking back up the stairs. I turn back to the fire but Sirius has disappeared.
