Jupiter | Harry James Potter

prologue

Strolling down the seemingly endless corridor, I encountered a boy who exuded a sense of tranquility, showing no signs of distress about departing from his family. He appeared entirely at ease. Clad in an oversized shirt and snug shoes, his unkempt black hair formed a disheveled bowl cut with unruly tufts sticking up at the crown, while a strip of tape held together his shabby glasses. Beneath the tattered spectacles, his strikingly green eyes contrasted vividly against his olive-toned complexion and dark hair. This slender figure was unmistakably Harry Potter. Without hesitation, I promptly pulled open the door.

"Want some company?"

"Sure."

For a fleeting moment, his gaze met mine before quickly shifting back to the window. The platform had vanished from view, replaced by the swiftly passing emerald hills of London.

"Jove Lestrange." I held my hand out as I took the seat across from him.

"I'm-"

"Harry Potter."  I smiled as he shook my hand.

"How'd you know?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at me.

"Lucky guess." I joked.

"Was it the scar?" Harry asked. "I didn't know you could see it." His hand quickly went up to his bangs to fix them.

"You actually have the scar?" I gasped. "Can I see it?"

"Oh. Yeah." He pushed his black fringe up to show a lightning-shaped scar.

"That's brilliant!" I grinned. "That's from Voldemort?"

"Yeah, it is," he said. "You're saying his name?"

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you anything. My mum just talks about him a lot, so I'm pretty used to it." I said.

"It's alright. I don't get why people are scared of the name. I mean, he got killed by a baby so I don't know why they're scared of him," Harry shrugged. "Why does your mum talk about him a lot?"

"Dunno. I tune her out when she talks about him. She talks about you more though." I laughed. Of course, I knew exactly why my mother was obsessed with him, but I decided that Harry didn't need to know why as well.

"Me? Why?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"That's right! You don't know about my family yet. I forget you're new to the whole magic thing." I said. I silently prayed that my face wasn't as red as I thought it was, but it was most certainly a deep shade of maroon.

"What's wrong with your family?"

"That's a long story. Let's just say I won't be telling my mum that I'm friends with you." I shrugged, leaning back into the cushioned seat with my arms crossed.

"We're friends?" He asked. I wasn't quite sure why he was alright with that, but I didn't dare ask. It almost felt too good to be true.

"Yeah. 'Course we are! Why wouldn't we be?" I laughed. Harry's eyebrows raised in disbelief and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I've just never had a friend before," Harry said. The little smile he had faded slowly and his lips pushed together while I fought back a disbelieving laugh.

"I find that hard to believe," I scoffed. "You're Harry Potter for Merlin's sake. Who wouldn't want to be friends with you?"

Before he could answer, the compartment door slid open.

"Harry Potter?" A boy asked, his mouth wide open. He had bright red hair like a tomato and a face that resembled one. His round face was covered in freckles that spread down his lanky body to his bony hands. The only thing that really caught my eye was the large stripe of dirt that rested on his pointed nose.  Well, that's a Weasley.